Phone Booth_2002

PHONE BOOTH by Larry Cohen FADE IN: NEW YORK CITY - AERIAL VIEW OF DOWNTOWN MANHATTAN - DAY MULTIPLE STREET SCENES - DAY The sidewalks crowded as usual. A sea of humanity. People come and go -- always in a hurry. Oblivious of one another. A TRAFFIC JAM -- A STREET being torn up by construction workers; A SANITATION TRUCK loading up refuse; VENDORS PEDDLING nuts and salted pretzels; PANHANDLERS blocking a passerby. Intimidating. Demanding. Almost mocking. We're surrounded by the teeming life of the city as we've come to expect it -- complete with a cacophony of sound. MULTIPLE CUTS -- Phone kiosks and phone booths on the East Side and West Side -- uptown and down. One frustrated caller has lost his money in the slot and he takes it out on the equipment -- smashing the receiver violently against the coin box until the instrument splinters into a dozen pieces.
    NARRATOR
    There are 237,911 pay telephones in the five burroughs of the city of New York. Many of them are still in working order.
    DOZENS OF QUICK CUTS -- NEW YORKERS on the phone in extreme close up. We don't hear the words. Only the facial expressions inform us that these are human beings under tremendous pressure. Life in the city is wearing them down. MULTIPLE SHOTS - JUST MOUTHS Lips jabbering into receivers. Cross-cut against one another.
    NARRATOR
    Despite increased usage of cellular devices, an estimated four and a half million New Yorkers and two million visitors still utilize pay telephones on a regular basis. At thirty-five cents a pop... for the first three minutes.
    ANGLE ON CORNER IN MID-MANHATTAN - DAY There's a phone booth situated on the southeast side of the street.
    NARRATOR
    You're looking at the telephone booth at the corner of 45th Street and 8th Avenue in the heart of the Manhattan theatrical district. It has been scheduled to be removed and replaced by a kiosk. It's one of the few remaining phone booths
    left in the city.
    CAMERA MOVES IN on the irate caller in the booth -- a very well-dressed gray-haired lady -- totally conservative in appearance.
    WOMAN IN BOOTH
    (into receiver)
    You have lied to me for the last time, you lowlife prick bastard! I don't ever want to hear the sound of your fucking voice again.
    (listens)
    Yes, well fuck you, too!
    She slams down the receiver and exits. The booth remains vacant for a brief interval.
    NARRATOR
    At least three hundred calls daily originate from this booth. The coins are collected twice a day. This booth has been burglarized forty-one times in the last six months.
    Someone is approaching the booth, fishing in his pocket for coins. This is STUART SHEPARD, snappily dressed, his hair styled and his nails manicured. Here is a man who clearly takes excellent care of himself. He sports a Donna Karen suit and silk Armani tie. He's about to step into the booth when he's accosted by a middle-aged man in a soiled apron who's run out of a nearby restaurant and has finally caught up with him.
    MARIO
    Stu, we got to talk.
    STU
    Wish I could accommodate you, Mario, but this is my busy time of day.
    MARIO
    How come you cross the street every time you go past the restaurant?
    STU
    Why don't I stop in later for some lunch?
    MARIO
    There's no more drinks or free meals until the restaurant starts showing up in the columns like you said.
    STU
    I'm doing my level best for you people.
    MARIO
    One lousy mention in the Post and you expect to eat for six months!
    STU
    I got the food critic from the Village Voice all lined up to give you a review.
    MARIO
    That's what you tell me last July. And he never shows.
    STU
    I was allowing you time to expand the menu. Wallpaper the bathrooms, for God sakes. You get only one shot with these fucking critics and I don't want you to blow a rare opportunity.
    MARIO
    You the one blowing it. How long you think you can fuck everybody?
    STU
    Hold on right there. I've got a very excellent reputation around this town.
    MARIO
    So how come you take two nice suits of clothes from Harry and never get his daughter on David Letterman?
    STU
    Hell, I'm not an agent. I'm a publicist.
    MARIO
    Mister, you're nothing!
    STU
    Believe me, Valerie's on the waiting list to audition. Harry's got no complaints. He just let me pick out this tie the other day.
    MARIO
    That Harry's a damn fool!
    STU
    Mario, please let me make this up to you. How about I arrange for the opening night party for this new off-Broadway show I'm handling -- to be held at your place with local TV coverage on nine and eleven? I mean I had it promised to another client -- who actually pays me money. But it isn't firmed up yet. And I could throw it your way. Maybe.
    MARIO
    What is involved?
    STU
    You'd toss in the buffet for say seventy or eighty. The producers would supply their own vino, of course. I'd deliver you a truckload of celebrities. And if they like the food, they'll all come back, naturally.
    MARIO
    What celebrities?
    STU
    You want Liza Minelli? An Oscar winner. Or Douglas Fairbanks, Jr.?
    MARIO
    Is he still alive?
    STU
    I saw him last night going into the Four Seasons. I'll bring you over a whole VIP list when we come by for dinner.
    MARIO
    How come everybody wants to eat but nobody wants to pay?
    STU
    You can't think small like that. Hey, you still feature musicians Fridays and Saturdays?
    MARIO
    At least they work for their meals.
    STU
    What about Harry's daughter as an extra added attraction? She'll belt out five or six showtunes -- two sets a night -- and it won't cost you a fucking nickel.
    MARIO
    How come?
    STU
    Star Showcase! Let me handle setting that up. And when she eventually goes on Letterman, she'll announce I'm currently appearing over at Mario's fine supper club. Right over CBS she'll say that, Mario.
    MARIO
    You're full of shit. You know that? All bullshit!
    STU
    That's just a vulgar word for PR.
    (placing an arm around him)
    Mario, you can't hurt my feelings. Even when I was a kid and they hurled certain invectives my way, it never bothered me. Other kids would fall apart if anybody called them a fucking name. Me, I just loved the attention! 'Shit-for- brains' -- that's what the bigger kids named me. And I answered to it. Hey, 'shit-for brains' reporting for duty. Everybody loved me for that. I could take abuse. After a while, I kind of wore them down. There was nothing more they could say to me. So they
    stopped. I kind of missed it.
    MARIO
    I'm sorry I even talked to you.
    STU
    I'll bet your loving wife put you up to this. She saw me pass by and she sent you out in the street. But I don't hold it against you personally -- you still serve up superior veal chop.
    (entering phone booth)
    Now I got urgent business to conduct, Mario.
    He slides the booth closed in Mario's face. The frustrated restaurateur glares at him through the glass before giving up and walking off -- talking to himself as he goes up the block. INSIDE THE BOOTH, Stu inserts his thirty-five cents and dials.
    STU
    Hello, Mavis, sweet creature.
    MAVIS' VOICE
    Where have you been? Do you think I have nothing to do but wait around for you to call?
    STU
    I'm only a few minutes late, loveliest individual on earth.
    MAVIS' VOICE
    Stu, I'm so lonely. When can I see you?
    STU
    Good news in that arena. Kelly goes into rehearsal as of Monday. You know how dedicated she is. By the time she gets back from dancing her ass off, she goes right to sleep. We'll have both our days and certain nights. Not to mention when they take the show on the road.
    MAVIS' VOICE
    How long is that for?
    STU
    Four to five weeks -- minimum.
    MAVIS' VOICE
    Maybe I should quit my job so we can be together full time.
    STU
    I wouldn't do that.
    MAVIS' VOICE
    Sometimes I think if I have to give one more fucking manicure...
    STU
    That's how you met me.
    MAVIS' VOICE
    I never saw a worse set of nails. Bit right down to the quick.
    STU
    I'm much better groomed since you've been looking after me.
    MAVIS' VOICE
    I'm glad you admit it.
    STU
    Even Kelly remarked on it when I first met her.
    MAVIS' VOICE
    She could care less how you look. She's only interested in pushing her own career. Some wife you're stuck with!
    STU
    The marriage is not without its compensations. Do you imagine I could afford that apartment on what I'm earning? Not with everybody cutting back on the publicity. Not to mention a million college graduates coming into the profession trying to cut me out. And one thing you can't expect from your clients is loyalty. They get
    a couple of bad notices, they dump you. Goodbye.
    MAVIS' VOICE
    Don't go.
    STU
    I wasn't saying goodbye to you. I was saying how the clients try to give you the wave off without even a month's notice.
    A conservative businessman now stands outside the booth waiting to use it. He deliberately glances at his watch a few times to demonstrate his impatience. This bothers Stu who slides the booth open a crack.
    STU
    (yelling)
    What? Is your watch busted? It's twenty after eleven and I'm gonna be occupied indefinitely with my transaction. So get out of my face!
    He closes the booth up again and turns his back to the gentleman who gives up and departs.
    STU
    Sorry, honey. There will be no further interruption.
    MAVIS' VOICE
    Why must you always be calling me from some booth?
    STU
    On account of that phone records are regularly subpoenaed in divorce proceedings. And I don't want some entry showing up on my cellular bill either. She gets the mail. She looks these items over. Sometimes she even dials up a strange number to see who it is.
    MAVIS' VOICE
    Then she suspects something.
    STU
    It's only because her last husband, the choreographer, ran around on
    her. She can't get that out of her head. That's how she caught onto him. The phone bills.
    MAVIS' VOICE
    She hasn't developed much skill at holding a man.
    STU
    You know what a self-fulfilling prophecy is? She was so sure I was going to find me a woman that she finally drove me back to you. I thought I'd feel all guilty about it -- but I guess it hasn't kicked in yet.
    (beat)
    Still, I wouldn't do anything to hurt her. Basically, Kelly's a decent individual.
    MAVIS' VOICE
    What about hurting me? Like last time?
    STU
    Hurt? You were glad to be rid of me.
    MAVIS' VOICE
    For a while I was, 'til I took stock of what was around. You're the lesser of many evils.
    STU
    That's about the nicest thing you ever said.
    MAVIS' VOICE
    I'll have it engraved.
    STU
    We've been up front with each other from the beginning. Let's keep it that way. How about a drink? Say seven o'clock? The Monkey Bar?
    MAVIS' VOICE
    Meet me in front. I don't like walking in there unescorted.
    STU
    Yeah, you're great enough looking to be mistaken for one of those thousand dollar a night girls.
    MAVIS' VOICE
    It happens all the time lately.
    STU
    And wear that short black number I bought you from Bendel's.
    MAVIS' VOICE
    Again? I don't know if it's me or that dress you like.
    STU
    Have a good day. Make plenty of tips. And leave the whole evening open. She thinks I've got Knicks tickets.
    He hangs up. Then whips a tiny cellular phone out of his jacket pocket, flips it open and dials. Someone answers on the first ring.
    COLUMNIST (V.O.)
    Speak!
    STU
    (into cellular)
    It's your boy Stuart. When was the last time I called you for a favor?
    COLUMNIST (V.O.)
    The column is already full.
    STU
    I just need one line. Anybody you wanna say was seen dining out at Mario's Stromboli restaurant.
    COLUMNIST (V.O.)
    Maybe you don't hear so good? I got no space for you.
    STU
    Who's asking any favors? I'm offering reciprocal information.
    COLUMNIST (V.O.)
    Since when were you ever a reliable source?
    STU
    Check it out. Tony award-winning producer Willie Beagle tossed his wife back into rehab again following her third attempt at diving off the terrace at their plush eighteen room residence at the San Remo. I got it from the doorman.
    COLUMNIST (V.O.)
    I got it from their maid yesterday. It's in the paper today. Or don't you bother to read my shit?
    STU
    Louis, my intentions were entirely honorable.
    COLUMNIST (V.O.)
    I'll drop your item in sometime next week. If you promise not to call me for a month.
    He hangs up. Stu looks pleased as he folds the cell phone and tucks it away. Then he starts to vacate the booth. The phone rings. And rings. Curious, he picks up the receiver. There's a voice on the other end of the line. A DISTINCTIVE MALE VOICE.
    VOICE
    Don't even think about leaving that booth.
    STU
    What?
    VOICE
    Stay exactly where you are and listen carefully.
    STU
    I've got a heavy day, mister.
    VOICE
    You know better than to disobey me.
    STU
    I don't know you at all.
    VOICE
    Are you absolutely sure?
    STU
    Who is this?
    VOICE
    Someone who's watching you.
    STU
    Get lost!
    VOICE
    Love the gray suit. That red and black tie makes a nice combination.
    Stu is taken back by the accurate description of his apparel. He looks around nervously.
    STU
    Where? Where are you?
    VOICE
    Closer than you think.
    STU
    I don't see you.
    VOICE
    There are any number of windows. Check them out.
    Indeed that street corner is surrounded by high rise buildings and hotels.
    STU
    Okay, you had your little joke.
    VOICE
    I'm not sufficiently amused. Not yet. We have more to talk about.
    Stu knows he should simply hang up but something tells him not to. Perhaps it's the strange tone of the man's voice.
    STU
    Do me a favor. Call up somebody else.
    VOICE
    But it's you I'm interested in. You know how many people use that
    booth every day?
    STU
    Why don't you tell me?
    VOICE
    Better than two-hundred people on average.
    STU
    Is that what you do? Count them?
    VOICE
    What else do I have to do? It's interesting watching people. Trying to guess who they are. And what they're up to.
    STU
    What are you -- a shut-in of some kind?
    VOICE
    You might say that. I can't go out. I might be seen.
    STU
    Somebody's looking for you?
    VOICE
    Desperately.
    STU
    The cops?
    VOICE
    Not yet.
    STU
    The ex-wife. What'd you do -- run out on child support?
    VOICE
    What kind of man do you think I am?
    STU
    Frankly, I could care less. You had your fun. Now goodbye.
    VOICE
    It's not in your best interests to hang up on me. That would make me angry.
    STU
    Isn't that just too bad?
    VOICE
    For you.
    STU
    There's ten million names in the phonebook. Pester somebody else.
    VOICE
    I never talk to people I can't see. I need to study their reactions.
    STU
    Alright, bullshit artist, what am I doing right now?
    VOICE
    Scratching your forehead with your left hand. Now you're brushing your hair back.
    STU
    Okay, okay, you got me in your scrutiny. So what?
    VOICE
    So let's talk.
    STU
    Only I got nothing to say.
    VOICE
    Oh, you will. You'll do a lot of talking before this conversation is over. And it'll only end when I want it to.
    STU
    Is that a fact? Well if you watch closely, you will see me hang up.
    VOICE
    I don't think you will.
    STU
    Why not?
    VOICE
    I interest you.
    STU
    Why should I be interested in some creep who gets his jollies spying on strangers in phone booths?
    VOICE
    But you're not a stranger, Stu.
    The sound of his own name sends a chill through him.
    STU
    Who put you up to this?
    VOICE
    You were my very own selection.
    STU
    Why me in particular?
    VOICE
    Because you're so afraid.
    STU
    Ha! What've I got to be afraid of?
    STU
    Just about everything. You have so much to hide.
    STU
    How do you figure that?
    VOICE
    Why else would a man with a perfectly good cellular bother to make calls from a pay booth?
    STU
    That's my business.
    VOICE
    I've made it mine.
    STU
    All of a sudden I'm required to give explanations to you?
    VOICE
    In explicit detail.
    STU
    What is this? Some kind of candid camera gag? Or like that thing on HBO where the cab driver is taping what goes on in the back seat?
    VOICE
    This is not showbusiness, my friend. This is reality.
    STU
    Your reality. Not mine, you lowlife fuck.
    VOICE
    Stu, you'll be made to suffer for your attitude, so let's dispense with the vulgarities.
    STU
    Now you're threatening me! Fuck you. Could that be any clearer?
    VOICE
    You're only making it easier for me to do you harm.
    STU
    Oh yeah. Right. Can you see how I'm trembling?
    VOICE
    You will be.
    STU
    Shit, this is a new one. Fucking threatening calls in a goddam phone booth. When are you going to start with the heavy breathing.
    VOICE
    I'm not the degenerate. You are, Stu.
    STU
    You don't know anything about me.
    VOICE
    Infinitely more than you know about me.
    STU
    Like what?
    VOICE
    Like the number you dialed when you first entered the booth.
    STU
    How would you know that?
    VOICE
    I'm watching through a scope and I could clearly read the buttons you pushed. I have another extension here by the window. Shall I dial that same number back for you? Would that convince you?
    Stu nervously cranes his neck, looking around at all the tall buildings that surround the street corner. STU'S POV PANNING up at thousands of windows. The Voice could be coming from anywhere. BACK TO STU IN THE BOOTH
    VOICE
    Let's see who's on the other end of the line.
    STU
    Don't.
    VOICE
    Too late.
    (beat)
    It's already ringing. I'll hold the receiver up so you can listen in.
    Stu can hear the beeping as the other line rings. Then Mavis' voice can be heard answering. Stu listens helplessly.
    MAVIS' VOICE
    Hello?
    VOICE
    Well, hello.
    MAVIS' VOICE
    Who is this?
    VOICE
    Someone who's really tight with your boyfriend -- who just called you from his favorite phone booth.
    MAVIS' VOICE
    You know Stu?
    VOICE
    Stu? Oh, I know him better than anyone. What he does -- how he thinks. How he lies.
    MAVIS' VOICE
    Who the hell is this?
    VOICE
    Stu is listening in. He knows what we're both saying.
    MAVIS' VOICE
    Stu? Is that true? Are you there?
    VOICE
    He doesn't feel like talking.
    STU
    (shouts)
    Mavis! Just hang up the goddam phone.
    VOICE
    She can't hear you, Stu. Only me.
    (a pause)
    Mavis, I'm afraid Stu hasn't been totally honest with you. But then he can't be honest with anyone, can he?
    MAVIS' VOICE
    What's your name? To whom am I speaking?
    VOICE
    You've never heard of me, Mavis. He doesn't want you to know I exist. He wishes I didn't exist. But there isn't anything he can do about that.
    (beat)
    Still there, Stu? All you can do is listen.
    STU
    Mavis -- the guy is a fucking nutcase! Hang the fuck up.
    VOICE
    She doesn't want to. She wants to know all about us. Don't you, Mavis?
    MAVIS' VOICE
    Did his wife put you up to this? That bitch, Kelly?
    VOICE
    Oh yes, the bitch wife, Kelly. My very next call.
    STU
    (yells)
    He doesn't know my wife! Don't tell him anything else.
    Outside the booth, a huge, heavy-set black woman in a too tight dress, now appears with the clear desire to use the phone. Her name is FELICIA. She taps on the glass.
    FELICIA
    Could you hurry it along?
    Stu ignores her and Felicia glares at him through the glass with hostility. Stu has no inclination to deal with anybody else. He's too distracted by the madness happening over the telephone.
    STU
    Can you hear me, Mavis? Keep your big mouth shut.
    VOICE
    Is that any way to talk to a woman you love?
    (beat)
    Mavis, is he always that abusive to you?
    MAVIS' VOICE
    You're getting me all upset. I
    don't know who you are or how you know all this --
    VOICE
    I find out things -- from watching people and listening to them.
    MAVIS' VOICE
    Just what is your relationship to Stu? That's all I want to know.
    VOICE
    Well, what do you think?
    MAVIS' VOICE
    Answer me, goddam it!
    VOICE
    Well alright. Stu and I are -- longtime companions. A pair. Two of a kind. Closer than close. Peas in a pod. Spoons in a drawer.
    MAVIS' VOICE
    You pervert!
    VOICE
    That, too.
    STU
    Don't believe a word of it. It's all lies.
    VOICE
    Too late, Stu. She already believes it.
    MAVIS' VOICE
    You can tell that scumbag never to bother me again.
    VOICE
    He won't care. He'll still have me.
    STU
    It's not true. I do care.
    From outside the booth, there's a louder rapping on the glass. Felicia really wants in.
    FELICIA
    Get done in there, mister. I got me an important call.
    STU
    Go away.
    FELICIA
    Shit I will! Finish up!
    She continues to rap on the glass as Stu tries to focus on the two-way phone call.
    VOICE
    Why don't you tell me what you think of us?
    MAVIS' VOICE
    You're both disgusting.
    VOICE
    That's what he said about you. Well, if Stu didn't have the balls to come out and tell you the truth, I felt it was my responsibility to clear the air. Goodbye now, Mavis. Thanks for your time.
    (the phone clicks off; we hear only a dial tone)
    Back to you again, Stu.
    STU
    You total asshole! How could you do that?
    VOICE
    Speaking of females, that woman hovering outside the booth -- may as well tell her that you'll be on the line forever.
    STU
    Like hell I will.
    VOICE
    I'm ready for you to take out your cellular and phone home. And this time, I'll listen in.
    STU
    There's no chance of that.
    VOICE
    Or should I call Kelly and make up something totally outrageous? You must realize by now I have a vivid imagination.
    STU
    You don't know our phone number!
    VOICE
    Are you absolutely sure? I may have been watching you on a regular basis. Keeping track of all the numbers I see you dial.
    STU
    And I'm supposed to believe that?
    VOICE
    I've put a great deal of preparation into this -- prior to actually saying hello. Now do you want to dial 832-7165 -- or should I?
    The sound of the actual number being spoken shocks him even more than the earlier mention of his name.
    STU
    What are you going to tell her?
    VOICE
    You'll do the talking.
    STU
    What am I supposed to say?
    VOICE
    Try telling her the truth.
    STU
    Look, I don't want to hurt Kelly. She's always there for me. It's just my nature to have a little 'strange' on the side. It doesn't mean shit.
    VOICE
    But you still find it necessary?
    STU
    Kind of like having a beautiful home. With everything you ever
    dreamed of. But you still need that vacation now and then. Some nice hotel room with a great view. Maybe a pool. Only you wouldn't want to spend more than a few days in any hotel. Eventually, you want to go back to your home and all your stuff. You're real glad to check out.
    VOICE
    Kelly is home and Mavis is a hotel? I'm sure they'll both appreciate that explanation.
    STU
    You're ruining my fucking life, you sonofabitch.
    VOICE
    Didn't I warn you about calling me names? It makes me vindictive.
    STU
    What else can you do to me?
    VOICE
    We haven't even begun.
    STU
    She's not home. She went out.
    VOICE
    I'll bet she's back. Now hold the cellular up where I can see it -- so I can be certain you don't misdial on me.
    (pause)
    A little higher and to your left. Now I have it in perfect view. Dial slowly.
    More violent rapping on the glass from the persistent black lady outside.
    FELICIA
    If you got you a cell phone, how come you taking up the whole fucking booth! This here's an emergency!
    STU
    There's another booth on the next block.
    FELICIA
    It's busted. Every damn phone on Eighth Avenue is busted but this one.
    STU
    Well, I'm not through! Go in a restaurant or someplace, but get away from me!
    FELICIA
    I'm gonna pull you out of that booth and snatch you ballheaded!
    She tries to pull open the sliding door to the booth but Stu jams it shut, right on her hand.
    FELICIA
    You assaulted my person.
    STU
    Let me hear from your lawyer!
    FELICIA
    You're hear alright. I'm coming back. And your ass better not be around.
    She stalks off obviously in search of assistance.
    VOICE
    Good work, Stu. Now let me see you dial. Tuck the receiver under your chin and dial your remote.
    STU
    I'm doing it.
    He punches in the digits. The phone rings -- and rings.
    STU
    I told you she was out.
    VOICE
    Let it ring.
    Then a girl's voice is heard.
    KELLY'S VOICE
    Shepard residence.
    VOICE
    Hold it close to the receiver so I can hear.
    KELLY'S VOICE
    Hello?
    STU
    Honey, it's me.
    KELLY'S VOICE
    What's taking you so long? I thought we were having some lunch at Mario's?
    STU
    Change of plan. We're not eating in that dump any more.
    KELLY'S VOICE
    How come?
    STU
    The Health Department gave them a 'C' rating -- that's how come. Here I'm trying to put the place on the map and he fucks it all up with a major roach problem.
    KELLY'S VOICE
    That's disgusting. Okay, I'll fix us a sandwich. Where are you now?
    STU
    Just in a phone booth.
    KELLY'S VOICE
    How come? The caller ID says you're on your cellular.
    STU
    Oh yeah, I am.
    KELLY'S VOICE
    But you're also in some phone booth?
    VOICE
    Explain that one, Stu.
    STU
    I only stepped in because the traffic was so loud outside.
    KELLY'S VOICE
    Well just hurry on back.
    VOICE
    Tell her you can't.
    STU
    Not for a few minutes.
    KELLY'S VOICE
    Are you sure you're alone? I hear somebody in the background.
    STU
    The guy in the next booth. He's got a bad connection and he's hollering his fool head off.
    VOICE
    You've got an answer for everything.
    STU
    I love you, baby.
    KELLY'S VOICE
    Do you?
    STU
    You know that.
    KELLY'S VOICE
    Stu -- who was that man?
    STU
    What man?
    KELLY'S VOICE
    Some person who phoned fifteen minutes ago -- just after you went out.
    STU
    I don't understand...
    KELLY'S VOICE
    This total stranger rang up and told me to wait by the phone -- because you'd be calling me in a few minutes -- from a booth. And I said what would he be doing in any phone booth?
    STU
    And what did this guy say?
    KELLY'S VOICE
    He said you'd be making phone calls. What else?
    STU
    Making calls is part of my business.
    KELLY'S VOICE
    To whom?
    STU
    Clients. People. Planting items like I do.
    KELLY'S VOICE
    Women?
    STU
    Once in a while one of them could be a woman. I just called "Elaine's" and talked to her to see who was in there last night.
    KELLY'S VOICE
    You know exactly what I mean.
    STU
    You're not going to start that shit again?
    KELLY'S VOICE
    I just feel something is wrong.
    STU
    What could be wrong?
    KELLY'S VOICE
    The way you sound. You don't sound like yourself.
    STU
    Yeah? Who do I sound like?
    KELLY'S VOICE
    Someone who's scared. There's fear in your voice like I've never heard before.
    VOICE
    See, Stu? Kelly agrees with me.
    KELLY'S VOICE
    I want you to come back home. Now!
    STU
    I told you. In a while.
    KELLY'S VOICE
    No. I want you here now. In case he calls back, I don't want to answer again.
    STU
    Why should he call back?
    KELLY'S VOICE
    I feel like he's going to.
    STU
    You're the one that sounds frightened. And of nobody.
    KELLY'S VOICE
    He's not a nobody. He knows about us.
    STU
    You're not telling me all he said. What are you holding back?
    KELLY'S VOICE
    I can't discuss it on the phone. Just get over here!
    CLICK! She hangs up.
    STU
    (into pay phone)
    Why did you do that to her? She never did you any harm.
    VOICE
    How would you know? Everybody does harm to somebody. And then they try their best to forget it.
    STU
    Maybe me -- but not her. Whatever I've done, there's no reason to take it out on her.
    VOICE
    Suppose that's the only way I can get to you? You claim you love her.
    STU
    Yeah, I do.
    VOICE
    You don't even love yourself.
    STU
    But Kelly... I would never hurt.
    VOICE
    Still you have to uphold your status as an honorary asshole.
    STU
    Listen, I've treated all my women decent. I never laid a hand on any of them, even when provoked. And I always let them down easy.
    (beat)
    I'm not ready to let Kelly go. Maybe I never will be.
    VOICE
    What if she dumps you first? What's the odds she's already taken up with somebody? One day soon you'll come home and find her gone along with the CD player and the
    VCR.
    STU
    I'm not gonna let you mind-fuck me all day! That's it. This call is ended.
    VOICE
    Not until I say it is.
    STU
    What happens if I hang up?
    VOICE
    You don't really want to find out.
    STU
    I'm dying to hear this!!! What the fuck can you do about it -- up in your fucking high window with your goddam binoculars?
    VOICE
    I never indicated I had binoculars. I said I had a highly magnified telescopic image of you that brought you up so close I could see where you nicked yourself under the chin shaving this morning.
    STU
    Oh -- while you're at it, have a look up my ass.
    VOICE
    I may very well do that, Stu. In the meantime, think about what kind of device has a telescopic sight mounted on it.
    STU
    What? You mean... like a rifle?
    VOICE
    A high-powered .30 calibre bolt action Remington 700 with a carbon one modification and a state of the art Henzholdt tactical sniperscope. And you're in the cross hairs, Stu.
    STU
    I'm supposed to believe that?
    VOICE
    There's only one way I can prove it to you. Hang up the receiver and find out. At this range, the exit wound ought to be about the size of a small tangerine.
    STU
    And you're just going to kill me for no reason?
    VOICE
    For plenty of reasons! Because you hung up. For years I hated people hanging up on me. Ex-girlfriends. Women I didn't even know. Prospective employers.
    STU
    I get hung up on all the time. You get used to it.
    VOICE
    Or else you don't. I worked for months getting people to switch to MCI -- being insulted at and being hung up on hundreds of times a day. The ones that cursed me out for invading their privacy never bothered me as much as those that clicked off without even bothering to reply.
    STU
    Then why didn't you go after one of them?
    VOICE
    Maybe you are one of them.
    STU
    Hey, I have worked in a boiler room myself peddling "Term Life." I Would never be rude to a fellow salesperson.
    VOICE
    Can you feel it on you now? The heat of it. I'm moving the strike zone down to your stomach area. Now I'm raising it up again. Directly above the chest cavity -- sliding up to the forehead just above the left ear.
    STU
    Shit -- I do feel it.
    VOICE
    Tell me where I'm going with it now.
    STU
    Across my forehead -- now back where it was before.
    VOICE
    I'm amazed how you can do that. You're amazingly accurate.
    (beat)
    Now I know what you're thinking. If I drop down on the floor of the booth and flatten myself out...
    STU
    No, I'm not thinking that.
    VOICE
    Oh yes you are. Can I crawl out using the booth as a shield? Can I crawl to that Chrysler illegally parked only three or four feet away? The shattering glass may cut me, but it'll only be superficial. Otherwise, this lunatic will never let me out alive.
    STU
    No. You will. I know you will. If I just cooperate.
    VOICE
    Where is it now? Think and feel for the warm spot.
    STU
    Below the shoulder?
    VOICE
    Which one?
    STU
    The right shoulder.
    VOICE
    Remarkable how we're in tune. You're doing far better than the others.
    STU
    What others? What do you mean?
    (no reply)
    You said 'others!'
    VOICE
    (finally)
    I'm sure you read about the Italian tourist shot dead ten days ago at the corner of Forty-fifth and Eighth?
    STU
    I saw it on the news.
    VOICE
    And where are we now?
    STU
    Oh, God. Forty-fifth and Eighth.
    VOICE
    What else do you remember about that killing?
    STU
    I don't know.
    VOICE
    Try.
    STU
    He was gunned down. And nobody was caught. And they didn't even bother to take his wallet or his watch... or anything.
    VOICE
    Now you know why. It wasn't a robbery.
    STU
    What did he do?
    VOICE
    He hung up -- so I disconnected him permanently.
    STU
    Please -- don't do it to me. You got no reason to do it to me.
    VOICE
    Don't give me reason.
    STU
    I'm not looking to. Tell me what you want!
    VOICE
    Tell me about your job.
    STU
    What's to tell? I'm in Public Relations. They used to call us "flacks." Now we're media consultants.
    VOICE
    What do you do, exactly?
    STU
    Plant items in the paper and on the tube. More important sometimes, keep stuff out.
    VOICE
    What've you kept out?
    STU
    One of my people got nailed for indecent exposure. I managed for the cops to use his real name instead of his stage name so nobody picked up on it.
    VOICE
    You saved the little deviate's ass, didn't you?
    STU
    He's in major therapy now. I swear he is.
    VOICE
    You must hang with some major celebrities. Journalists, newscasters -- those types.
    STU
    I'm real close with Larry King. And the "Hard Copy" people.
    VOICE
    Could you get him down here? Larry King?
    STU
    Why would he want to come here?
    VOICE
    Because you asked him to.
    STU
    He comes from Atlanta.
    VOICE
    Well, who could you get?
    STU
    I don't know.
    VOICE
    Wolf Blitzer?
    VOICE
    Probably not.
    VOICE
    Regis?
    STU
    Definitely no chance.
    VOICE
    You'd be offering them an exclusive newsbreak. I'm talking about more than one homicide.
    STU
    How many?
    VOICE
    I don't answer questions. I ask them.
    STU
    I gotta have the facts. They might not believe me. My record isn't too good when it comes to hard news.
    VOICE
    You're not considered a reliable source?
    STU
    On a divorce or separation, maybe. Or who's gay, or who isn't gay any more. I kind of specialize in that kind of material. I mean I could probably get you Joe Franklin.
    VOICE
    How about Cindy Adams?
    STU
    I might have a shot. Are you familiar with Liz Smith?
    VOICE
    Do you know her number?
    STU
    Want I should call her? How much can I say?
    VOICE
    Tell her you're in direct touch with a killer who's willing to speak honestly if she shows up here alone and without notifying the authorities.
    STU
    She usually likes to have a celebrity involved. If you had an actor or a sports figure held prisoner instead of me, there'd be better odds she's come.
    VOICE
    Then lie. Pick a celebrity and put them in the booth.
    STU
    Let's see. Who does she like? Who couldn't be reached to deny it?
    VOICE
    I'm anxious to see you in action. Don't keep me waiting.
    Stu uses his cellular again.
    STU
    (dialing)
    Sometimes you only get her service.
    (into cellular)
    Hi -- Stu Shepard. Put me through. I've got hard news for her. I can only talk to her directly. But say it regards -- Liza.
    VOICE
    Liza? That was imaginative.
    STU
    (into cellular)
    No, I can't call back. I'll have to lay in on somebody else. Alright, but I can't hang on long.
    (to pay phone)
    She's coming on.
    (to cellular)
    Liz, hello. Sure I'll make it brief. Killing two weeks ago in the theatre district? Turn out a sniper did the job. Yeah, a sniper with a rifle. Now he's got another victim lined up. Not just your anonymous New Yorker, but Liza. Now you can't call anybody or Ms. Minelli's dead meat and so am I. She's hostage in a phone booth right in the sniper's sights. But he says he'll talk to you and let her walk. I know it'll take balls to do this, but you're a fine and courageous newspaper woman...
    There's a click. Silence.
    STU
    Hello? Hello?
    (to pay phone)
    Either she's on her way over or she doesn't believe me.
    VOICE
    You weren't particularly convincing.
    STU
    I didn't really believe in what I was saying.
    VOICE
    Because you don't really believe my Remington is pointed at you?
    STU
    I do.
    VOICE
    You're ninety percent sure.
    STU
    At least ninety-five percent, easy.
    VOICE
    Let me erase all doubt.
    STU
    No. Don't shoot.
    VOICE
    Control yourself, Stu. Glance down at your chest. What do you see.
    STU
    Oh, my God. A dot. A fucking red dot.
    A tiny red dot now moves across Stu's chest.
    VOICE
    Like you've seen in the movies?
    STU
    The laser dot. Just before some poor bastard always gets blown away.
    VOICE
    Usually a supporting player. That lovely but by now generic special effect of the bullet piercing the forehead.
    The tiny red laser dot dances around Stu's chest and stomach -- the jumps up and remains between his eyes.
    VOICE
    This takes all the guesswork out of it. You know exactly where to expect it before I even tighten my finger on the trigger.
    STU
    Don't tighten. Don't even tickle that fucking finger.
    VOICE
    How about Geraldo? He's run his ass off to get in on this.
    STU
    You're talking about the old
    Geraldo. Look, I can try and reach cable NBC. They're hungry.
    VOICE
    I'm disappointed. I wanted to go first class.
    STU
    They do a great job. They'll haul a whole crew over to cover your surrender "live."
    VOICE
    I never expressed interest in giving myself up. There are so many other phone booths in the city. I'm just getting warmed up.
    STU
    That's entirely up to you. Your choice. I'm just trying to set you up with the proper communicator.
    (beat)
    I suppose Liza wasn't strong enough. I should've said Madonna.
    VOICE
    Now you're being creative.
    Outside the booth, the angry black woman has returned, bringing with her a gaudily dressed pimp named LEON who looks like he means business. He slams his fist against the glass, nearly shattering it.
    LEON
    Drag your baggy butt out of that booth. We got business to conduct out of there.
    FELICIA
    He been in there all day.
    STU
    I'm not through.
    LEON
    Hang up that receiver or I'll make you eat the fucking thing!
    STU
    Fuck off or I'll call a cop.
    LEON
    Do you see one around here? What you think I'm gonna be doing while you're waiting for a prowl car to get assigned? I'm about to cut you a second asshole if you don't vacate those premises.
    STU
    I can't.
    FELICIA
    He's got him a fucking cellular. What's he need to be on our booth for?
    STU
    I can't explain it.
    LEON
    I'm not interested in your explanations even if you had any.
    He withdraws a switchblade knife from his pocket but doesn't open it -- yet.
    LEON
    If I flick this, I use it.
    STU
    I'll make it worth your while to go away. How much do you want?
    LEON
    Make me an offer.
    STU
    Thirty dollars. It's all I've got in cash. Take it and go.
    LEON
    You're offering to rent my phone booth? For how long?
    STU
    I don't know. For as long as it takes.
    LEON
    What's so special in there?
    STU
    Do you want the money?
    LEON
    Is that a genuine Rolex you've got on?
    STU
    Come on, man. That's my good watch.
    LEON
    That's what it's gonna take.
    STU
    Then here. Take the damn thing.
    LEON
    And the thirty!
    STU
    Take it all.
    The pimp pockets the watch and the money. But doesn't go away.
    LEON
    Now I'm satisfied. But you still got to deal with Felicia here. I believe you spoke harshly to her.
    STU
    I apologize.
    LEON
    And did her some injury.
    STU
    An accident. I'm sorry about that, too.
    FELICIA
    The man don't sound like he means it.
    LEON
    I agree.
    (to Stu)
    Why don't you hang up a minute so we can discuss this matter at length.
    STU
    It's long distance. I can't lose the call -- I might not get them back.
    LEON
    Do I have to rip that fucking phone out of there?
    STU
    That wouldn't be a good idea.
    (into pay phone)
    Would it?
    VOICE
    Not at all.
    STU
    I gave you everything I've got.
    LEON
    That pinky ring looks attractive. Felicia might like that.
    FELICIA
    It might fit.
    STU
    You want the ring, you've got the ring. If I can get it off.
    LEON
    I can get it off you.
    Leon reaches in and grabs Stu's ring hand.
    STU
    Let go of me! It's coming loose. There.
    (he tosses it)
    Okay, Felicia, with my deepest apologies. Goodbye now.
    LEON
    What's really going on in that booth -- that escapes the naked eye?
    STU
    Nothing. Talk. That's all.
    LEON
    That your connection on the end of
    the line? Or are you dealing?
    STU
    This has nothing to do with drugs.
    LEON
    You gotta be high on something to willingly divest yourself of your valuables -- just to maintain occupancy of a fucking phone booth that the local bums piss in every night.
    STU
    I knew it smelled for some reason.
    LEON
    You look like you're ready to piss yourself.
    STU
    Because I am.
    LEON
    Maybe if the city provided decent public toilets, folks wouldn't relieve themselves in the subway stations and phone booths!
    STU
    I'll take it up with the mayor.
    LEON
    Next thing you know you're gonna claim we mugged you -- took your billfold and watch.
    STU
    No, you didn't. It was a fair and equitable deal. You had territorial rights to this booth and I paid a license fee. Fair is fair. Now leave me in peace.
    LEON
    You sure you're alright?
    (to Felicia)
    He don't look well.
    FELICIA
    Kind of pale. Even for a white man.
    LEON
    Jaundice they calls it. Probably advanced liver trouble.
    (to Stu)
    If it's cirrhosis, you better find yourself a twelve step program and quick.
    STU
    Thanks for your interest but I'm in perfect health.
    FELICIA
    So how come his hand is shaking?
    LEON
    The man is cracking up.
    FELICIA
    Lookit the sweat pouring off the sonofabitch. That's one sick mother you started up with, Leon!
    LEON
    Me? You're the one that brought me over and exposed me to all his germs.
    STU
    I'm terminal, okay? Now can I close the booth and continue my conversation?
    LEON
    I'm worried now it might be catching. All that money out of your sweaty pocket is probably crawling with some rare and incurable disease.
    STU
    Fine. Give it back.
    LEON
    What good's that? We done touched it.
    STU
    Well go wash your hands.
    LEON
    Come on now. Own up to what you're carrying. Is it some of that sexually transmitted shit? Cause in that case, we can relax.
    STU
    I'm sick of you. Now get out of my face.
    LEON
    Here we's being solicitous as to your health and you respond by heaping abuse!
    FELICIA
    Whip his arrogant ass.
    Leon reaches into the booth and grabs Stu's jacket.
    STU
    Touch me and I'll throw up on you.
    At the suggestion, Leon lets go quickly. It looks like a stalemate. Stu isn't vacating the booth and Leon and his lady are reluctant to touch him further. He does indeed look sick.
    STU
    (into pay phone)
    You can see what I'm up against here.
    VOICE
    Want me to get rid of him for you?
    STU
    What do you have in mind?
    VOICE
    I'll think of something.
    Suddenly the red dot reappears on the forehead of the pimp. Leon doesn't realize it's there. The hooker behind him has no way of seeing it. But to Stu, there's no way to miss it. He reacts.
    STU
    God -- no.
    (into pay phone)
    Don't. It's not necessary.
    VOICE
    You asked for my help.
    STU
    I'll handle it myself.
    VOICE
    You're not doing too well. I can settle it in a fraction of a second. Shall I demonstrate?
    STU
    No.
    (to Leon)
    For your own safety, mister, just walk away.
    LEON
    Now the man is turning aggressive... issuing threats upon my person.
    STU
    You're making this happen.
    LEON
    If you don't hang up and step out, I'm about to topple this booth into the gutter with you inside it.
    Reluctant to touch Stu again, Leon assaults the booth itself. He begins shaking it violently -- trying to rip it from its foundation. And the rickety booth is not too sturdy. It starts rocking back and forth. Stu is thrown around inside it, barely keeping his footing.
    STU
    (into pay phone)
    This isn't my fault.
    (shouts)
    Stop that!
    But Leon continues rocking the booth. It won't come loose -- so in frustration, he punches in a side pane of glass. The glass shatters all around Stu, who does his best to shield himself from the slivers.
    STU
    (into pay phone)
    The guy's insane!
    VOICE
    Only one way to stop a mad dog. Give me permission.
    STU
    I can't.
    VOICE
    If he forces you out of that booth, I've told you what to expect. You or him, Stu.
    Leon is smashing other panes of glass now -- one after another -- as Stu cowers inside.
    FELICIA
    Don't cut yourself, honey.
    A crowd of derelicts and street people are now gathering to watch the out of control pimp take out his wrath on the booth and its occupant.
    DERELICT
    Looks like the fucker is comin' loose.
    STREET PERSON
    Shove it out into the oncoming traffic.
    DERELICT
    What'll you bet the bus could knock that fifty feet?
    The booth is being decimated but Stu hangs onto the phone.
    STU
    (into pay phone)
    Hello? Hello?
    VOICE
    (with heavy static)
    You're breaking up. We're about to be cut off.
    STU
    I can't help it!
    VOICE
    That counts as a hang-up.
    STU
    No. It can't. That's not fair.
    VOICE
    I can still make him stop. Say the word. Can you hear me?
    STU
    Yes.
    Stu sees the red dot reappear on Leon's chest as he continues to barrage the booth with punches and kicks. Then Leon recoils, staggers a step backward. He doesn't realize he's been shot. There's been no sound of gunfire. Perhaps a silencer was used -- or the downtown traffic drowned out the solitary discharge. Leon looks confused at first. His ladyfriend has no idea he's wounded -- neither do the derelicts and street people who've assembled on the corner. Even Stu isn't sure -- until the blood starts oozing from the wound on the pimp's chest -- staining his yellow vest. He isn't assaulting the booth anymore. He's trying to keep his balance. He slumps forward, hanging onto the booth for support -- only a few inches from Stu's face. The blood runs down the side of the booth.
    STU
    (into pay phone)
    You did it!
    VOICE
    You said 'yes.'
    STU
    I said 'Yes, I can hear you.' Not 'Yes -- kill the motherfucker!'
    VOICE
    Don't try to renege on it. I was following orders.
    STU
    You're twisting it all around. I didn't do this!
    Meanwhile, Leon leans upright against the booth. Then his legs cave in and he begins to slide to his knees. Felicia runs up beside him. She sees the blood.
    FELICIA
    I warned you not to cut yourself.
    (to crowd)
    Look at all that blood. He must've hit an artery.
    She screams as Leon topples backwards onto the pavement. Now his chest wound is evident.
    FELICIA
    Oh, Jesus. What is that? Talk to me! What happened?
    The crowd tightens around the fallen body. Street people who are fascinated but not shocked.
    DERELICT
    Gunshot!
    STREET PERSON
    Yeah. Sucking chest wound right over the heart.
    FELICIA
    Somebody call an ambulance.
    STREET PERSON
    Call the meatwagon. He's fucked up.
    FELICIA
    You shut the fuck up!
    Her focus turns to Stu in the battered phone booth.
    FELICIA
    Why did you do that to him?
    STU
    I didn't.
    FELICIA
    (to crowd)
    You all saw it! He shot my man without no provocation!
    DERELICT
    Yeah. Pumped one right into him at close range.
    STU
    How could I? I don't even have a gun. Look!
    STREET PERSON
    Everybody get the fuck back! They shoot one -- then they shoot everybody in sight! Kill all the fucking witnesses!
    The crowd disperses to doorways and around the corner -- out of immediate range.
    STU
    Come back. You've got to see -- I'm not armed.
    Only Felicia remains, leaning over the pimp's body, staring helplessly.
    FELICIA
    Hang up and dial 911. Get a doctor!
    STU
    I can't hang up. That's what this is all about.
    FELICIA
    You're gonna stand there and let him die?
    STU
    (takes out cellular)
    I can use this.
    (he dials)
    Emergency. Yes. There's been a shooting at Forty-fifth and Eighth -- on the corner. A man is down. What's the difference who I am? I don't want to be involved.
    FELICIA
    (shouts)
    That's bullshit. He's the shooter. You're talking to the shooter.
    Stu quickly disconnects the cellular.
    STU
    That wasn't nice.
    FELICIA
    Go ahead -- make a fucking run for it. I hope they gun you down -- like you did him!
    STU
    I'm not going anyplace. I'm staying right here in this booth.
    (into pay phone)
    Unless you give me permission.
    VOICE
    You're attracting a lot of attention. I suppose when the police get there, you'll accuse me.
    STU
    What do you expect me to say?
    VOICE
    That's up to you. But any mention of me will not be appreciated.
    STU
    You mean...?
    VOICE
    You won't even get to finish your sentence. Oh look, that little red dot is dancing around all over you again. You saw how quickly it can happen. And how accurate I can be.
    STU
    They can't blame me -- I'm not armed.
    VOICE
    Who's going to believe that? With all those witnesses to the contrary.
    STU
    They can see with their own eyes.
    Not far away, we hear the BLAST of POLICE SIRENS drawing closer.
    VOICE
    Remember to leave me out of it.
    STU
    How can I?
    VOICE
    You'll put the proper spin on it. Isn't that your specialty? Feeding the public a story that may not have a shred of truth -- and making it totally believable?
    STU
    This isn't a story. This is real. This is murder.
    VOICE
    If you'd only dealt with the man reasonably, shown him some respect, this might not have been necessary.
    STU
    I gave him my money, my watch...
    VOICE
    But not your respect. Which is what he required of you.
    STU
    He was a fucking thief.
    VOICE
    And now he's a fucking dead thief. Do you feel better about that?
    STU
    I don't feel a bit guilty. This is all your doing!
    VOICE
    Now you're being disrespectful of me. You never learn. Your job is to deal with people -- but you're not good at it.
    STU
    Hey, I'm not taking any more criticism from some lunatic sniper who gets his kicks killing strangers.
    VOICE
    You keep insisting I'm a stranger. Probably because you don't recognize the voice. But there are cheap electronic devices available that disguise the voice. I might not even be a man. I might be one of those many women you've almost totally forgotten. One who doesn't forgive easily. One who wants to watch you squirm.
    STU
    You're a man. I know you're a man. Women don't kill with telescopic rifles. They stab you.
    VOICE
    You sound so sure of that. But you've never provoked any man as much as have the women in your life. And so many of them, Stu.
    (a beat)
    Do you even remember their names?
    STU
    I've got no time to rehash my whole life. Oh my God! The cops are here.
    Police cars are pulling up on all sides of Eighth Avenue. Traffic has suddenly been shut down. Prowl cars have now blocked the streets. PRODUCTION NOTE: Everything is seen from Stu's perspective without intercuts. Half a dozen cops now emerge and approach with drawn guns.
    FELICIA
    (pointing)
    That's him -- in the booth. He's got a gun!
    As she hurls accusations, she's lugging Leon's lifeless body out into the gutter into the center of Eighth Avenue. It's a bright afternoon. In the distance, we hear the maddening HONKING of uptown traffic that is now being rerouted, creating a huge bottleneck and raising the anger of irate motorists and bus drivers whose horns provide their simplest form of protest. It's a discordant concert that echoes the confusion and frustration which Stu now feels... As the cops surround the booth -- at a distance.
    SERGEANT
    (into bullhorn)
    Throw down your weapon and come out with your hands raised.
    STU
    (into phone)
    They're ordering me to come out.
    VOICE
    I can see that. Ignore them.
    STU
    What if they open fire?
    VOICE
    They probably won't. Look across on the east side of the street. Do you see the tourist with the home video camera?
    STU'S POV A distant crowd gathering on the opposite west side corner behind the police cars. Some tourist is capturing the event on video. BACK TO STU
    STU
    What about him?
    VOICE
    He's going to keep the police on their best behavior. So long as you don't take what could be interpreted as hostile action, you'll be safe.
    STU
    You call this safe? Six cops with guns pointed my way?
    VOICE
    You want me to reduce them to three -- or two?
    STU
    Absolutely no more shooting. Now is that clear?
    VOICE
    You can always change your mind.
    SERGEANT
    (with bullhorn)
    You know the drill. Hands clasped behind the back of your neck -- moving slowly -- step out of the booth. If we see any sign of a weapon, we will respond.
    STU
    (shouts)
    You won't, because there isn't any.
    SERGEANT
    (bullhorn)
    I repeat. Raise your hands.
    STU
    I can't. I'm on a phone call.
    Now a black POLICE CAPTAIN arrives and takes full command of the situation.
    CAPTAIN RAMEY
    You have thirty seconds to comply.
    STU
    I told you. I'm busy. Come back later.
    VOICE
    Very good, Stu.
    The cops take cover behind parked cars, keeping Stu clearly in their sights. He has no place to hide. He's in the battered phone booth in plain view from all sides.
    RAMEY
    You've been given an order.
    The Sergeant slides up beside the Captain to confer. PRODUCTION NOTE: We remain in LONG SHOT of the cops -- always from Stu's POV. But we can hear their voices and all that is said as if they were in close up. It has an odd, unreal and distancing effect.
    SERGEANT
    We're dealing with a mental case. He's looking for us to kill him.
    RAMEY
    Well he's not getting his wish.
    In the center of the street, an ambulance pulls up and a team of medics jump out. They rush to Leon's body. (Again we hear their voices close, even though visually they are far off.)
    FELICIA
    Tell me he's gonna be alright.
    MEDIC
    Step aside. Let us look at him.
    The medics push her aside -- then examine the victim. He's DOA.
    MEDIC
    Nothing we can do. Don't touch the body. They'll need it to mark the crime scene.
    Far across the street, the Captain confers with his subordinates. They are small figures on the screen but we hear them sharply.
    SERGEANT
    Same corner as two weeks ago.
    RAMEY
    Maybe it's more than a coincidence. Cover me. I need to talk to him.
    SERGEANT
    You've got your vest on?
    RAMEY
    What do you think?
    The Captain steps out of cover and boldly approaches the phone booth. He stops cautiously about fifteen feet away.
    RAMEY
    I'm not armed.
    STU
    Neither am I.
    RAMEY
    Yeah, sure. I need to know what happened.
    STU
    Can't talk about it.
    RAMEY
    Sure you can. My name's Ramey. Captain Ed Ramey. What's yours?
    STU
    Look, I don't want to be friends.
    RAMEY
    You look like you need a friend.
    VOICE
    Tell him you've already got a friend.
    STU
    (yells)
    I've got a friend, okay.
    RAMEY
    Is that who you're talking to on the phone?
    STU
    None of your business.
    RAMEY
    When somebody gets shot, it becomes my business. Let's not have anybody else killed. I want to hear your side of it.
    STU
    I've got no side of it.
    VOICE
    Don't worry, Stu. I've got him fixed right in my sights. I won't let him hurt you.
    RAMEY
    Has this happened to you before? The need to hurt someone? To put a bullet in them?
    STU
    You won't believe anything I say.
    RAMEY
    Try me.
    STU
    I couldn't shoot anybody. I'm not armed.
    RAMEY
    You're right. I don't believe you. What's that bulge in your pants pocket?
    STU
    That? That's my cellular.
    RAMEY
    A cellular? Then what are you doing in a phone booth making calls?
    STU
    Do you want to see it?
    RAMEY
    Don't reach for it, mister.
    STU
    Then how can I show it to you?
    RAMEY
    I don't need to see it. I know what's there. All these witnesses saw you use it on him.
    From behind a parked car, a HOMELESS PERSON calls out.
    STREET PERSON
    (hollers)
    Damn straight!
    Another DERELICT, crouched in a doorway, joins in.
    DERELICT
    (shouts)
    Yeah! Shot him down like a dog!
    STU
    They're all lying. Nobody saw it because it didn't happen.
    RAMEY
    A man is dead but it didn't happen.
    STU
    Not on account of me! This is like some bad dream.
    RAMEY
    You're walking through a bad dream and you can't wake up. Do you want to wake up?
    STU
    I'm trying.
    RAMEY
    And in this dream, you killed that man. He was bothering you so you iced him.
    STU
    No.
    RAMEY
    Then who did?
    VOICE
    Don't tell him, Stu. Or it'll be the last thing he ever hears. His blood will be on your hands.
    STU
    (to Ramey)
    I don't know.
    RAMEY
    But you saw it happen?
    STU
    Yes.
    RAMEY
    You were the closest one to him. You must've seen who did it.
    STU
    No.
    RAMEY
    We're trying to be honest with each other, aren't we?
    STU
    Not necessarily.
    VOICE
    I'm losing patience with this cop.
    STU
    (into phone)
    I'm handling this.
    RAMEY
    Who do you keep talking to on the phone?
    STU
    Nobody. My psychiatrist.
    VOICE
    Excellent, Stu. You're getting good at this.
    RAMEY
    What's this doctor's name? It's important we know.
    STU
    He says not to tell you. It's privileged information.
    VOICE
    Damn good reply. Now you're having fun. Admit it.
    STU
    Whatever you say.
    VOICE
    Playing it so close to the edge. I'll bet you've never felt so alive. That's how I feel when I look through the sight and select somebody.
    The Captain begins advancing a few steps closer.
    RAMEY
    I respect your right to privacy. I've been to therapy myself. The department provides it. I know it's not good form for a cop to be admitting that, but...
    VOICE
    Tell him not to come any closer.
    STU
    Stop right there. Back up a few steps. Back where you were.
    RAMEY
    If it makes you more comfortable.
    VOICE
    Tell him to read you your rights.
    STU
    I want you to read me my rights and stop asking questions.
    RAMEY
    Al least tell me your first name.
    STU
    It's my right not to have any name.
    RAMEY
    No gun and no name. You're a highly underprivileged person.
    VOICE
    Demand a lawyer.
    STU
    And get me a lawyer, too. I want a lawyer brought down here to negotiate my surrender.
    VOICE
    Brilliant, Stu. Keep winging it.
    RAMEY
    It'll be hard to find a lawyer willing to risk his life. But if you hand over the gun...
    STU
    How can I when you won't let me take it out?
    RAMEY
    We'll take it out for you -- as soon as you exit the booth with your hands raised and...
    STU
    (interrupts)
    Now we're back to that again. It's always "Get out of the booth.' 'You can't stay in the booth.' Well, I like it in the fucking booth. It's my whole world now. It's my booth and I'm never coming out.
    RAMEY
    We're not about to force you because there could be a miscalculation and then we'd never find out why this happened.
    STU
    Why is it so important to know? The guy is dead. Isn't that enough? Knowing isn't going to make him alive again. So who gives a fuck!
    RAMEY
    It's what makes the job interesting. Finding out why. Something drove you to do this. You didn't go out today expecting this to happen. It was a nice day. You were out for a walk. And then suddenly it all changed.
    STU
    All I wanted was to make a phone call. One lousy phone call for thirty-five fucking cents.
    VOICE
    Careful, Stu. Don't volunteer too much.
    RAMEY
    You got some bad news on that call.
    STU
    The worst.
    RAMEY
    Something that pushed you over the edge?
    STU
    And I've been falling ever since.
    RAMEY
    Time to land.
    STU
    When you hit bottom, you die.
    RAMEY
    I'm your safety net.
    STU
    If I tell you what you want to know -- you'll die, too.
    Something about the implied threat sends a chill through Captain Ramey. INSERT SHOT The Captain's head as seen through a telescopic sight. Ramey could be dead in an instant. PRODUCTION NOTE: The only time we deviate from Stu's perspective is when we see the sniper's POV through his scope. ANGLE BACK ON STU IN THE BOOTH, the detective fifteen feet away. Ramey decides to back off momentarily.
    RAMEY
    I'll go see about that lawyer.
    STU
    Now that's a good idea.
    The Captain withdraws back across the street.
    VOICE
    He's lucky. I had him centered in my cross hairs. I really had to restrain myself.
    We hear the approach of a helicopter. Stu peers up ward as not one but two choppers appear above the tall buildings.
    VOICE
    It's not the police. It's the media. You're news, Stuart.
    The helicopters circle above.
    VOICE
    You've never gotten this much press for any of your clients. I'm making you a famous person.
    STU
    They're just hoping for coverage of me dying in the gutter.
    VOICE
    Their presence is putting the police on their continued best behavior.
    STU
    Those cops are just looking for any excuse.
    VOICE
    Then don't give them one.
    Then, as if on cue, Stu's cellular phone in his pocket starts ringing. But he can't allows himself to reach for it. To do so might cause the police to believe he was trying to draw his gun. It rings quietly -- virtually inaudible outside the booth. Drowned out by the traffic horns, the static from the police radios and the newly introduced sound of television helicopters circling over Eighth Avenue taking video coverage of the event below.
    VOICE
    Who could it be?
    STU
    Kelly. She was worried about me.
    Stu is afraid to reach in his pocket lest the cops think he's going for a gun.
    VOICE
    Maybe she's seen this on television. It must be on every channel by now. Breaking news.
    STU
    She doesn't watch daytime TV.
    VOICE
    One of the neighbors could've alerted her.
    The cell phone keeps ringing, almost drowned out by the sound of helicopters circling overhead.
    STU
    Why are you saying this? You want me to reach in my pocket so you can see them open fire?
    VOICE
    That's an unwarranted accusation and very unbecoming in light of the good advice I've given in the past. Have I ever steered you wrong?
    STU
    God -- how I'd love to hear her voice.
    VOICE
    It might even be worth it. She's insistent, isn't she?
    The cellular won't stop ringing.
    STU
    If she knows I'm in trouble, she won't give up.
    VOICE
    Probably glued to the TV by now. I'm watching coverage on two stations now. Channel surfing.
    (pause)
    Well, there you are on two and four and five. Not any decent angles on you, though, stuck inside there.
    The cell phone continues beeping until the sound of it is maddening. Stu is still afraid to reach for it and provide the cops with an excuse to open fire.
    VOICE
    But if you'd take one or two steps outside and look up, I think they
    could get a clear picture of you.
    STU
    You said I'm not allowed to leave the booth.
    Finally the cell phone stops ringing.
    VOICE
    I might be willing to bend the rules and let you enjoy your moment of fame. Set the phone down without hanging up... and take a step or two outside. Just for a minute. Then come straight back in or I'll be forced to provide 'live' coverage that should rival the historic Zapruder footage.
    (beat)
    Nothing like an exploding head to excite viewer interest.
    STU
    No, thanks. I'll stay where I am.
    VOICE
    It was only a suggestion. Since you're convinced I'm going to plug you anyway, it can't matter much.
    STU
    If you shoot me, you give yourself away.
    VOICE
    Even without a muffler, they'd never hear the report with all this noise. Afterwards, it'd take them a good ten minutes to realize you weren't plugged by some overzealous officer. Then they'll blame the media for inciting a crackpot vigilante to come down here and do the SWAT team's job for them.
    STU
    You expected them to come. You had this all worked out.
    VOICE
    I write the scenario and you all play your parts -- as directed.
    The damned cell phone starts beeping again. Stu fights the temptation to grab for it and hear Kelly's voice for one last time.
    STU
    Poor Kelly. What she must be going through.
    VOICE
    Why don't you tell her how you feel about her?
    STU
    I'd never get the words out. Not with fifteen or twenty rounds in me.
    VOICE
    You can't be certain they'd fire. They'd see it was only a phone.
    STU
    They wouldn't wait to see.
    The cellular ringing continues jangling Stu's nerves.
    STU
    Why doesn't she hang up?
    Then Stu notices something in the crowd gathering far across the street behind the police barricades. Countless faces rubbernecking, probably hoping to see some display of violence that would end with him face down dead on the pavement. And in the midst of them -- one face familiar to him. A female, quite pretty... even in tears. It's Kelly. (We see her only in LONG SHOT -- a distant figure in bright green jacket that makes her stand out from the crowd.)
    STU
    It's her! She's not calling me. She's over there.
    VOICE
    Is she?
    STU
    The blonde girl in the green jacket.
    VOICE
    Can't miss her. Very attractive, isn't she?
    STU
    She must've heard all the commotion and come downstairs.
    The cellular is still ringing.
    STU
    It's somebody else who knows my cell number.
    (beat)
    It's you!
    VOICE
    You continue to impress.
    STU
    Why is it so important that they kill me?
    VOICE
    Because that's how I win.
    STU
    This time you won't. If you want me dead, you'll have to do it yourself.
    VOICE
    Either way I can't lose.
    STU
    It's all a game to you -- because you're incapable of feelings. You're not even human.
    VOICE
    I pride myself on that. What's so great about being human? It's the lowest form of life on this planet and I've taken it upon myself to thin the herd.
    STU
    I quit. I'm not answering back any more. I won't hang up but I'm not playing.
    There's silence now between them.
    VOICE
    Stu? Stu, don't be that way. You're taking the pleasure out of it.
    Stu doesn't take the bait. He remains absolutely silent. A stalemate has been reached. WE RACK FOCUS ACROSS THE STREET TO THE POLICE clustered behind an emergency vehicle. The Sergeant brings a civilian to meet Captain Ramey of the SWAT unit. The newcomer wears coveralls stenciled "AT&T." (Although they are very far away, we hear their voices close up as they come into sharper focus.)
    SERGEANT
    This here's Helfand, of New York Telephone.
    HELFAND
    Glad to help out.
    RAMEY
    Have you got the number of that booth?
    HELFAND
    Sure do.
    RAMEY
    Can you tap into that call?
    HELFAND
    It can be done.
    SERGEANT
    But not without a warrant. You could be violating this psycho's civil rights. Especially if he's on the line with his fucking psychiatrist.
    RAMEY
    Shit. I don't want to blow this on a technicality. Tracing the call isn't any violation, is it?
    SERGEANT
    As long as we don't listen in.
    We remain in LONG SHOT of the POLICE as they continue in heated conversation.
    RAMEY
    (to Helfand)
    Okay, we've got to know who he's talking to and their current location.
    HELFAND
    That I can handle. As long as they keep the circuit open.
    RAMEY
    I need the number and an address to go with it.
    Helfand rushes off. At the corner, we can glimpse him entering a phone company utility truck parked on Forty-Fifth Street. RACK FOCUS BACK TO PHONE BOOTH Stu remains tight lipped and silent, refusing to give his tormentor the conversation he so craves.
    VOICE
    Stuart, my friend. Do you want to see how close I can come without actually hitting you?
    Stu resists pleading because he knows his silence is more powerful. There's no glass in the left side of the booth since the late Leon smashed it all out. Nothing to shatter when the sniper squeezes off his shot.
    VOICE
    May I call attention to the yellow pages?
    The frayed yellow phonebook dangling from a chain under the telephone shudders under the impact of a direct hit. There's been no sound of a gunshot, but the damage is there to behold. Stu reaches for the phonebook. There's a bullet hole straight through it. Pieces of the .30 calibre slug have shattered into many tiny fragments and are imbedded between the pages, half-way through the thick volume. Stu pries pieces out of the pages of the directory. He looks at them in the palm of his hand.
    VOICE
    Hollow points are designed to break up on impact. It would've behaved differently if it had pierced your soft flesh. The pieces would've bounced around looking for a way out. That's where the real damage occurs -- finding an exit -- deflecting off all that bone...
    Stu wants to shout "STOP," but restrains himself. Not talking gives him some degree of power.
    VOICE
    Still the silent treatment? My father used to dish that out when he chose to punish me. Not a word spoken -- one time for over a month. I'd try and goad him to acknowledge I existed, but he stared right through me. You're bringing back unhappy childhood, Stu. That's not wise.
    Stu still declines to answer. His silence seems his only weapon. He tosses the bullet fragments out of the booth onto the pavement.
    VOICE
    Since you're ignoring me, I'll focus on someone else.
    (a beat)
    There she is -- nice and sharp. I can see the two little punctures in each earlobe and my God, what kind of a girl would have her nostril pierced?
    Stu realizes the sniper now has Kelly in his sights.
    STU
    No!
    VOICE
    What was that? Louder, Stu. We must have a bad connection.
    STU
    Leave her out of it.
    VOICE
    I didn't expect her to show up here. But since she has -- I'll improvise.
    STU
    Don't. Please don't. I'm sorry. I'm talking to you again. I'll talk all you want!
    VOICE
    It's a bad dye job. The black roots are growing in and it makes her look cheap.
    STU
    I've screwed up her life enough already. Please don't hurt her.
    VOICE
    I don't necessarily have to kill her. I could be persuaded to settle for a reasonable mutilation. Which part of her displeases you most? If she turns a bit more in profile, I'm accurate enough to remove the tip of her unpleasantly protruding nose. It's just cartilage. Any decent cosmetic surgeon will have her looking better than ever.
    STU'S POV - FOCUS SHIFTS TO KELLY in the crowd. Distant yet distinct amongst the curious onlookers. JUMP CUT CLOSER ON KELLY -- OBLIVIOUS TO HER DANGER. AS SEEN THROUGH CROSS HAIRS OF TELESCOPIC SIGHT following her as she forces her way through the crowd toward the police officers. Her face virtually fills the screen. PRODUCTION NOTE: The only time we deviate from Stu and his POV is when we see the sniper's own POV through his telescopic sight.
    VOICE
    You can see her talking to the police now. She's identifying herself as your wife. They're very interested in who you are. They're taking her over to see the officer in charge. What was his name?
    SNIPER'S POV Through the cross hairs of the sniperscope, we can see Kelly conversing with Captain Ramey. She's in a state of complete agitation. ANGLE ON STU half leaning out of the booth, staring at his wife and the cops in the distance. RACK FOCUS TO THEM -- and suddenly we can hear them clearly in spite of the distance.
    KELLY
    What do you mean psychiatrist? He doesn't see any psychiatrist.
    RAMEY
    Then who'd your husband be talking to?
    KELLY
    There was some guy that called the house this morning and said weird stuff to me.
    RAMEY
    Stu seems to be checking things out with this person.
    KELLY
    He hasn't got many friends -- I can tell you that.
    RAMEY
    Remain here, please. We may need you later.
    KELLY
    You won't hurt him?
    RAMEY
    We'll do our best not to.
    Kelly is left alone as the Captain returns to their command center. Kelly is once again a solitary target. She could be picked off without attracting undue attention.
    VOICE
    She won't even feel it when it happens.
    BACK TO PHONE BOOTH
    STU
    Take me instead.
    VOICE
    Don't distract me. Now's the time to be absolutely still. I have to hold my breath as I squeeze gently --
    STU
    No! I'm hanging up. That's it.
    Stu hangs up the receiver. He disconnects. RACK FOCUS TO LONG SHOT -- The police as they react. We see a flurry of activity across the street. Voices become clear as focus shifts.
    RAMEY
    Shit. He hung up.
    SERGEANT
    Maybe they already traced it. Anyhow, it doesn't matter. Looks like he's coming out.
    RACK FOCUS BACK TO STU -- slowly stepping out of the booth. His hands are raised.
    STU
    (shouts)
    I've giving myself up. Take me!
    SWAT OFFICER
    (distant)
    First the gun. We want to see you toss away your weapon!
    STU
    Shit. I can't.
    SWAT OFFICER
    (distant)
    Freeze where you are! Turn around and keep those hands clasped.
    (signals the others)
    Take him.
    The SWAT OFFICERS in protective gear now step out of cover and fan out as they approach the booth. TIGHTER ON STU He's just outside the booth -- expecting to feel the sniper's bullet go through him at any moment. Then the pay phone starts ringing. The sniper is calling back. RACK FOCUS AGAIN to the police. All the cops react. Particularly the Captain and the Sergeant. Their voices seem close up when they sharpen in focus.
    SERGEANT
    What is going on with these fucking phone calls?
    RAMEY
    (shouts)
    Hold your fire. Let him answer it.
    The SWAT team backs up but maintain their aim.
    SERGEANT
    Are you nuts?
    RAMEY
    Let them talk. He's not going anywhere.
    (shouts)
    He's going back inside the booth.
    Indeed we see Stu re-enter the battered phone booth and pick up the receiver. FOCUS RETURNS TO STU
    STU
    (into pay phone)
    Yeah?
    A strange voice begins chattering away in Spanish. Totally unintelligible to Stu.
    STU
    (into pay phone)
    You got the wrong number. Hang up.
    The voice, probably a Puerto Rican gentleman, rattles on in Spanish.
    STU
    Wrong number. Wrong number.
    Then the voice on the phone suddenly alters the Hispanic accent. It is the now familiar tone of his tormentor.
    VOICE
    Aw, relax, Stu. Only yanking your chain. Now can we start over?
    STU
    Those cops won't wait much longer.
    VOICE
    What else can they do? They can't afford to just shoot you like I can. Not with so much media coverage. Not unless you make some stupid aggressive move.
    (beat)
    The ABC Mobile Unit just rolled up.
    Across the street, Stu can see various TV units from local stations setting up cameras on roofs of trucks.
    STU
    Will you look at that? I must be
    going out over the network. Bet they're pre-empting usual programming.
    VOICE
    And just think -- if you survive this, your trial will be televised. And you can try and make the world believe I ever existed. I'd be your only defense.
    STU
    How are they gonna prove that I killed anybody when there's no gun?
    VOICE
    They'll plant one. The police aren't above that -- when they're desperate to convict.
    STU
    No, sir. No gun and I walk.
    VOICE
    Don't you think I took that into account? Am I a fool?
    STU
    What do you mean?
    VOICE
    Haven't I considered every eventuality? I knew they'd come and cordon off the block.
    (beat)
    And that there'd have to be a gun someplace.
    STU
    Where?
    VOICE
    It's a small booth, Stu. Have you checked every inch of it?
    STU
    (looking up and down)
    It's not on the floor.
    VOICE
    Then what's left?
    STU
    Up above.
    VOICE
    Could be. Why don't you reach up there and lift the plastic sheet -- and feel around.
    STU
    If they see me reach for something, they could open fire.
    VOICE
    They could. But you have to know if it's there. Don't you?
    STU
    I totally don't give a shit.
    VOICE
    In a narrow space, tucked just to the left of the fluorescent bulb. You can almost see it outlined if you look closely.
    Stu peers upward at the clouded plastic, now stained and dirty. There are shadows of objects above in the shallows area around the light fixture that automatically goes on when the door to the phone booth is tightly closed. Stu opens and closes the door a few times, watching the light click on -- watching the shadows around the light. Could that be an accumulation of dirt, dust, or dead insects? Or could something be stashed up there?
    STU
    It doesn't matter. I know about ballistics. The slug in that dead guy came from your rifle, not any handgun.
    VOICE
    You saw how hollow points splinter on impact. There's nothing much for ballistics to match to. The same make .30 calibre bullets are in that handgun. The prosecution rests.
    STU
    There's no gun up there. I don't
    see a damn thing.
    VOICE
    Slide your finger up under the plastic and you'll feel the cold metal surface. There are four rounds left in it. Should you decide to shoot your way out.
    STU
    I could never shoot anybody.
    VOICE
    You could shoot me, Stu. You'd do that in a minute if you could.
    STU
    And I'd fucking love it!
    VOICE
    Now you're speaking from the heart. Come on, just lift the partition a few inches and feel what's there for you.
    STU
    I'm not getting my fingerprints on your fucking weapon. What about powder residue? How are they going to explain that to a jury?
    VOICE
    Do you think that'll matter with so many eye witnesses?
    (beat)
    Do it... or should I re-focus my attention on Kelly?
    STU
    No.
    VOICE
    You carefully distracted me from her before and I let you get away with it. But if you're not going to play fairly --
    (a pause)
    There she is again. So close I feel like I could touch her.
    STU
    Get off her!
    VOICE
    Then mind me when I speak.
    STU
    Look! I'm reaching up with my left hand. I'm pushing against the partition. It's giving. I'm feeling around with my fingertips. It's filthy up there.
    TIGHT SHOT - STU'S FINGERS feel about inside the shallow space. The shriveled remains of dead flies -- a layer of dust -- and then a .30 handgun.
    STU
    I'm -- touching something.
    VOICE
    One of the finest handguns Remington makes. Lightweight, efficient and highly accurate.
    STU
    I'm not picking it up.
    VOICE
    Not right now. But eventually...
    Stu lowers his hand, still empty.
    STU
    I wouldn't have a chance.
    VOICE
    I never said you would.
    STU
    I'm not insane.
    VOICE
    But you're getting there. It wouldn't take much.
    STU
    That won't happen.
    VOICE
    You could pull the gun down, shove it in your own mouth and jerk the trigger. That's another option.
    STU
    Why would I do that?
    VOICE
    To please me. And ensure that nothing happens to Kelly. I don't necessarily have to deal with her today in the midst of a crowd of cops. I can take her out any time I like. When she goes to pull down her blinds at night or when she walks the dog first thing in the morning. What is it -- a Jack Russell?
    STU
    Okay. I know you can do it. But don't talk about that. Please.
    VOICE
    I'd rather see you remembered as the gallant gunman who tried to shoot his way past an army of police -- than as a coward who sucked the barrel. I'm doing your PR for you. Creating a final image that'll endure. The outraged New Yorker who was pushed too far. When some lowlife street person tries to invade his territory, he retaliated. And when the forces of the law closed in, he was defiant... to the end.
    STU
    Like that nerdy sonofabitch who blew those three wiseass kids away on the subway?
    VOICE
    Exactly. Nobody minded that he was a sicko. He was living out a New Yorker's pet fantasy. Can you remember that movie where Peter Finch started screaming 'I'm not taking it anymore!' And everybody picked up on it.
    STU
    'I'm mad as hell and I'm not taking it anymore.'
    VOICE
    That was it. Poor Finch got himself an Oscar for that. But he was dead by then. I mean he really died. Maybe playing that part took too much out of him.
    STU
    (softly to himself)
    'I'm not taking it anymore.' 'I'm not taking it anymore.'
    VOICE
    That's the way! Psyche yourself up. Everybody respects a man who fights back, even if he goes a little berserk in the process.
    STU
    Fighting back. That's what it's about.
    VOICE
    Exactly! We all understand the poor schmuck that gets laid off and comes back and shoots all his bosses. We all thought of doing that. But only he had the balls. The terminally ill husband who gets his policy canceled and machine guns the insurance company offices. Maybe somebody will finally get the message. You can fuck human beings over only for so long before they come back at you. I'm still holding on Kelly and she looks very concerned. I could relieve all that anguish in a fraction of a second. Shall I?
    Stu is hearing these words but thinking only of what the man on the line has done to him. His turn has come to fight back. He has an idea. If the sniper is focused on Kelly, he can't be watching Stu. Turning his back to the police, Stu slowly sinks to his knees.
    STU
    I'm on my knees begging you.
    VOICE
    Stand up, Stu. You're embarrassing yourself.
    TIGHT ANGLE -- Stu now down on his knees in the booth. He's curled up almost into a fetal position. By doing so, he hopes to hide the fact that he's reaching into his pants pocket and pulling out his cellular phone. He half expects to hear a shot ring out either from the sniper or the cops. But nothing happens.
    VOICE
    Stu -- I want you back on your feet facing me. So you can see what I'm going to do to her.
    Stu ignores the command. He's quickly dialing. He's calling police emergency. SNIPER'S POV Stu seen through the cross hairs of the sniperscope, crouched, doubled up at the foot of the booth. But the cell phone is hidden in front of him.
    VOICE
    Be a man, Stuart. Don't let them see you like this. You're an embarrassment to me.
    WIDER SHOT - THE BOOTH with Stu still kneeling. RACK FOCUS to police across the street as their voices become clear --
    SERGEANT
    (listening to transmission)
    Officer on east side of the street reports subject removed a dark metallic object from his pocket.
    We better move.
    RAMEY
    Hold all fire until you actually identify a weapon. We're doing this on fucking TV!
    RACK FOCUS BACK TO -- STU IN THE BOOTH crouched forward. The pay phone receiver dangles just above his head. The cellular remains cupped in his hand. Stu never lifts the cell phone. He keeps the palm of his hand over the speaker of the phone to muffle any sound from the other end. It rings and finally someone answers.
    EMERGENCY OPERATOR
    (faint)
    Police. Is this an emergency? Hello? Is someone on the line?
    But Stu addresses himself loudly to the pay phone which he now grips in his other hand. Hoping that his words will be picked up by the emergency operator listening via the cellular. To help in this regard, he reaches back and slides the door to the booth tightly closed. He pretends to be talking to the sniper but his words are meant for the 911 operator to hear.
    STU
    (loud)
    You've made your point. Who's going to believe I've got a sniper with a telescopic sight holding me in a fucking phone booth at 45th and 8th?
    VOICE
    It took you a while to believe it yourself.
    STU
    If you'd put a bullet in that Captain Ramey, it would've been a different story -- but you were too wise to do that.
    VOICE
    Why don't you do it for me? Wave
    the old captain back over and get him nice and close and then use the handgun on him.
    STU
    (talking loud)
    Why me? You could pick off any of those cops from your window up there. Like you did that pimp. And that tourist last week. But this time you want me to do your killing for you.
    VOICE
    And you will! To save Kelly.
    EXTREME TIGHT SHOT - CELL PHONE cupped in Stu's hand and held low. Can they hear him on the other end?
    EMERGENCY OPERATOR
    (muffled, almost inaudible)
    Can you speak up, sir? What is your name?
    Stu is concerned that the sniper might hear the voice of the emergency operator. He sets the cell phone down flat on the floor of the booth facing upward. He puts his foot over the receiving end to muffle the incoming voice. Then he stands up.
    VOICE
    That's better, Stu. Now turn around so I can see you.
    Stu talks close into the pay phone receiver now. But keeps his voice raised.
    STU
    This booth. It's my whole world -- shrunk down to four feet by three feet. Not much bigger than the size of a coffin.
    VOICE
    They can put handles on the booth and bury you in it.
    STU
    (loudly into pay phone)
    When I saw you put that bullet into that black dude, I knew you'd never let me out of this phone booth alive.
    VOICE
    You're wasting my time. Reach up and take the gun.
    STU
    (peering upward, squinting)
    Let me see you first. What harm can that do you? You're in one of those windows. I've got to know which one.
    VOICE
    No need for that.
    STU
    Being so far, I could never identify you. I don't even want to.
    VOICE
    What is it then?
    STU
    Don't worry that I'd try to point you out. You'd shut me up with one of your .30 calibre hollow points before I could even raise a finger.
    VOICE
    Why does it matter so much?
    STU
    I want to see that you exist. Like God exists. It's not enough to believe. You want to see him -- just once -- even at a distance.
    VOICE
    And then you'd take the gun down. And use it. We have a deal on that?
    STU
    Show yourself to me and I'll take the gun down. I swear.
    There's a pause as the sniper mulls it over.
    VOICE
    I don't have to make deals. And you're irritating me by trying to negotiate. God doesn't have to prove anything. He just strikes you down when he gets in the mood.
    STU
    Stop! I won't ask to see you anymore.
    VOICE
    I'm glad that's settled. But look who else has showed up?
    STU
    Who?
    VOICE
    I guess she saw the coverage on TV and just couldn't keep away.
    STU
    What are you talking about?
    VOICE
    The 'hotel' just arrived. And a very beautiful little hotel she is. Actually, I'd classify her as more of a motel.
    STU
    Mavis? I don't see her.
    VOICE
    She's too far back behind the police line. But I've got a fine shot at her from up here.
    STU
    You don't even know what she looks like.
    VOICE
    You're in an enviable position now, Stu. You get to choose between them. Tell me which one.
    STU
    I can't.
    VOICE
    Which will it be? Kelly or Mavis? Or should I simply select one?
    INSERT SHOT - THE CELL PHONE lying face up on the floor of the booth. Is anybody listening? BACK TO STU Stu looks down at the cellular. He has no way of knowing if the police operator can hear any of his words.
    STU
    I need time to think...
    VOICE
    You've got to be more in touch with your feelings. You said you love Kelly.
    STU
    I do.
    VOICE
    Then I'm doing you a favor putting you out of the way of temptation.
    STU
    It wasn't Mavis' fault. It was all my fault.
    VOICE
    Then take the third option. Reach above you and pick up the gun.
    STU
    You'll leave them both alone?
    VOICE
    There won't be much point in harming them without you around to impress.
    STU
    I'll do it.
    VOICE
    Let me see you do it.
    STU
    I need one minute. One last minute, please. Can you give me that?
    VOICE
    Don't tell me you're going to say your prayers?
    STU
    Something like that.
    WE RACK FOCUS AWAY TO LONG SHOT - THE POLICE assembled on the opposite side of the street.
    RAMEY
    They should've traced the fucking call by now.
    SERGEANT
    (listening on transmitter)
    There's something else coming in. A 911 operator says your name was mentioned by somebody that's still on the line. Somebody talking about a phone booth. And a sniper.
    RAMEY
    Patch me through. Hello, this is Captain Edward Ramey. What about that call?
    EMERGENCY OPERATOR
    The line is still open. It's originating from a booth at 45th and 8th.
    RAMEY
    We're there! Can you play me back your recording of the entire call?
    EMERGENCY OPERATOR
    I can't replay the tape while it's still running.
    RAMEY
    Then switch to another machine and play back what you've got.
    EMERGENCY OPERATOR
    It's awful faint. He's not talking
    directly into the receiver.
    Ramey begins to listen. We hear snatches of Stu's call picking up words which are at times incomprehensible.
    STU'S VOICE
    (faint)
    'Who's going to believe I've got a sniper with a telescopic sight holding me in some fucking phone booth...'
    The uniformed TELEPHONE TECHNICIAN now joins Ramey and the Sergeant.
    TELEPHONE TECHNICIAN
    Got what you wanted. The call's coming from up the street. The Hotel Broadway.
    RAMEY
    Have you got the room?
    TELEPHONE TECHNICIAN
    It's not that easy. Electronic switchboard.
    RAMEY
    (to Sergeant)
    Move your SWAT units to the hotel. No... wait. Any movement will alert the sniper. If he sees any of us withdraw, he may panic.
    SERGEANT
    There's another SWAT unit on the way.
    RAMEY
    Intercept them. Divert them to the hotel.
    SERGEANT
    It's done.
    RAMEY
    Send them in from the Forty-third Street side. I don't want any activity the sniper might catch sight of. He's probably high up and facing that booth. He's got to continue to believe our full
    attention is focused on the man inside -- whoever the hell that poor bastard is.
    (to emergency operator)
    Hello 911 operator, I missed some of that. Run it halfway back and repeat it.
    STU'S VOICE (REPLAY)
    (faint)
    '... Like you did that pimp. And that tourist last week. But this time you want me to do the killing for you...'
    RAMEY
    (listening)
    Jesus... he's a dead man.
    BACK INSIDE PHONE BOOTH
    VOICE
    The police seem all excited about something, Stu.
    STU
    Are they? I wasn't looking.
    VOICE
    I can't wait any longer. Say amen, then reach up for the gun. When your hand comes down, I want to see it.
    STU
    I'm too afraid.
    VOICE
    For once, be brave. Surprise yourself.
    STU
    I'm shaking all over.
    VOICE
    Guys in combat situations even shit their pants. But they follow orders.
    STU
    As soon as the cops see a gun, they'll open fire.
    VOICE
    Then I'd advise you to fire first.
    Stu's arm goes up in a supreme act of willpower. His fingers run along the two clouded plastic sheets that cover the roof of the booth. It raises up easily at the middle where two sheets join. TIGHT INSERT SHOT The space between the roof of the booth and the sheets of clouded plastic. We see the fluorescent lighting fixture covered with dust. The solitary object -- a cruel-looking weapon. Now Stu's fingertips protrude into the small space. He touches the gun, brushes back and forth, feeling the roughness of the grip. TIGHT SHOT - STU'S FACE as below he continues to hesitate -- it's agony -- The sweat pours down his forehead and his eyes are squeezed tightly shut. He can already imagine the police bullets tearing into him. A POLICE SNIPER IS MOVING INTO POSITION.
    POLICE SNIPER
    (into transmitter)
    Give me the word.
    RACK BACK TO STU - IN THE BOOTH His arm still raised. He hasn't brought it down with the gun in it. Not yet. He holds the pay phone receiver jammed up against his mouth.
    VOICE
    Hard part's over. Drop your arm and point it like you'd point your finger and squeeze.
    STU
    No. You do it. If you want me dead, then fucking murder me!
    VOICE
    Why must I keep invoking some poor
    girl's name every time we come to an impasse? I'm focused back on Kelly again. You're obviously not willing to trade your life for hers.
    STU
    I am! I'm doing it!
    He pulls the handgun down into full view. Curiously, the police do not open fire.
    STU
    There! You see it? They all see it.
    He waves the gun so nobody can miss it.
    STU
    Where are you? Damn you!!
    He drops the receiver and steps halfway out of the booth. Still the cops do not open fire. Then Stu starts shooting. Not at the police, but at the high rise buildings across the street. At the thousands of windows that look down upon him. He gets off two shots before a solitary rifle shot rings out in response. RACK FOCUS TO THE POLICE SNIPER He has fired. ANGLE ON STU The remaining glass on the south side of the booth shatters. Stu tumbles forward, sprawling out of the booth onto the pavement. RACK FOCUS TO KELLY She screams, tries to break through but cops restrain her.

INT. PHONE BOOTH
    ANGLE ON DANGLING RECEIVER as it sways back and forth. From it, we hear the voice.
    VOICE
    Thanks for such an interesting afternoon.
    THEN THERE ARE OTHER SOUNDS EMANATING FROM THE DANGLING SWAYING PHONE. A wooden door being battered open. A few incomprehensible shouts as a SWAT TEAM dashes in. Stu's stalling for time has paid off. THE SOUND OF A BARRAGE OF GUNFIRE. THE SOUND OF A MUFFLED SCREAM. The police have broken in on Stu's tormentor and there has been a rapid exchange of shots. A HAND reaches into the booth and grabs the receiver. ANGLE WIDENS as Ramey places it to his ear.
    RAMEY
    Hello? This is Captain Ramey. Somebody talk to me.
    SWAT OFFICER'S VOICE
    Yeah. We took him out, Captain. Nobody else got hurt.
    RAMEY
    What's his condition?
    SWAT OFFICER'S VOICE
    Critical. The sonofabitch took two. Probably won't survive the ride.
    RAMEY
    Get a statement from him. I'll be right over.
    He drops the receiver so that it dangles again. CAMERA FOLLOWS RAMEY to where Stu lies surrounded by cops and medics. He's stunned, but very much alive.
    MEDIC
    Don't try to sit up.
    STU
    What was that?
    RAMEY
    (kneeling)
    Rubber bullet.
    MEDIC
    You'll have one hell of a nasty welt. Busted rib. Maybe a permanent scar there.
    STU
    It couldn't hurt much more if you really shot me.
    RAMEY
    Somebody was going to and we thought it may as well be us.
    STU
    Did you get him?
    RAMEY
    Sure as hell did. Thanks to you.
    STU
    Still alive?
    RAMEY
    Barely.
    MEDIC
    We'll be giving him a hypo for the pain. It'll put him out for a while.
    Kelly is now brought over by a female cop. She drops to her knees beside Stu and tries to embrace him. The medics restrain her.
    STU
    It's okay. I'm not really shot.
    KELLY
    I was so afraid. I thought...
    STU
    I thought so, too. But we're going to be alright. Both of us.
    KELLY
    Remember how you swore up and down you'd get me on TV? Well, you did. I already got interviewed on Fox and Channel Eleven and they even want me on A.M. America tomorrow morning.
    STU
    Bet you didn't think I could deliver on that.
    MEDIC
    Will you please let go of him, Miss?
    A gurney is wheeled over from a police ambulance. The medic is about to administer the hypo but Stu pushes him away.
    STU
    No. No hypo. I want to see him first.
    The medics are now ready to lift Stu onto the gurney and cart him off. But Stu struggles against them.
    RAMEY
    Relax. The guy's dying.
    STU
    That's why I've gotta talk to him. Please!
    RAMEY
    We'll see.
    MEDIC
    (to Kelly)
    You can ride with him in the ambulance.
    The woman cop escorts Kelly to the waiting ambulance. Ramey meanwhile tries to resume contact with the SWAT team inside the hotel.
    RAMEY
    This is Ramey. Over. This is Ramey. Ten-Four.
    There's nothing but static, mixed up feedback and multiple garbled voices on the other end of the line.
    RAMEY
    Shit. Get everybody off this wavelength.
    He crosses back to the phone booth -- picks up the dangling receiver.
    RAMEY
    Hello. Hello! Pick up! Yeah, it's Ramey again. Can you hold the phone close enough so the perp can listen?
    COP'S VOICE
    He's not saying a word, Captain.
    RAMEY
    He's not about to talk to us. Maybe to him.
    Ramey looks back to where the medics are still trying to lift Stu onto the gurney.
    RAMEY
    Forget that. Stand him up.
    (to Stu)
    Can you stand?
    STU
    I can try.
    RAMEY
    Help him over here.
    The medics support Stu and inch him back to the booth. It's painful, but Stu ignores it. Ramey holds the phone up so Stu can both listen and speak.
    RAMEY
    Here. Speak up.
    STU
    (into pay phone)
    It's me. Do you hear me? Answer me.
    VOICE
    (wheezing)
    Had to have the last word, Stu.
    STU
    I finally beat your ass. Admit it, you fuck.
    VOICE
    But you'll never forget me. I gave you the most thrilling day of your life. Say thanks.
    STU
    Now you're gonna die, you bastard.
    VOICE
    I lost a lot of blood. Don't you want to donate some for me? Then we'd really be part of each other.
    STU
    Hang on. I can't wait to see you at the hospital. So I can yank your fucking air tube out.
    VOICE
    Wish I could give you that pleasure. You deserve it.
    (coughing)
    ... Only I'm out of time.
    STU
    What's your name? At least tell me who you are.
    There's more violent coughing, then silence. Then a cop's voice is heard.
    COP'S VOICE
    He's gone.
    Stu stares at the receiver.
    RAMEY
    Don't worry. We'll find out who he is. And why he picked you.
    STU
    No. You won't.
    (a beat)
    What do you want to bet you won't?
    Stu reaches over and hangs up the receiver. CLICK.
    STU
    I'll spend my whole life trying to figure that out.
    Then he sinks into the arms of the medics who lower him onto the waiting gurney. The hypo is finally administered. It kicks in immediately, relieving the pain. He's wheeled away from the booth to the waiting ambulance. Kelly is already inside waiting to accompany Stu to the hospital. STU'S POV - BEING WHEELED AWAY FROM THE EMPTY BOOTH pulling away in LOW ANGLE. CAMERA SLIDES BACK inside the ambulance with Stu. The doors shut, obliterating our view of the phone booth that was his entire world until moments ago.
    STU
    (groggy)
    Gotta sleep now. No phone calls...
    Kelly smiles down at him as the image blurs. Stu passes out -- into a deep sleep he much deserves. A SIREN BLARES. CUT TO BLACK.

Summary: Stuart Shepard is an arrogant and dishonest New York City publicist who has been having an affair with Pamela McFadden behind the back of his wife Kelly. While in Times Square, Stuart uses a public phone booth to contact Pam, allowing him to avoid detection by Kelly. During the call, he is interrupted by a pizza delivery man who attempts to deliver a free pizza to him, but Stuart aggressively turns him away. As soon as Stuart completes his call, the phone rings. Stuart answers; a man on the other end, who knows his name, warns him not to leave the booth, threatening to tell Kelly about Pam. The caller tells Stuart that he has tested two previous individuals who have done wrong deeds in a similar manner, giving each a chance to reveal the truth to those they wronged, but in both cases they refused and were killed. Stuart must confess his feelings to both Kelly and Pam to avoid the same fate. To demonstrate the threat, the caller fires a suppressed sniper rifle with pinpoint accuracy. The caller then contacts Pam and connects her to Stuart, who admits that he is married. The booth is approached by three prostitutes demanding to use the phone, but Stuart refuses to leave, without revealing his dilemma. Leon, a pimp, breaks the glass side of the booth, grabs Stuart and pummels him while the prostitutes cheer. The caller offers to "make him stop" and in Stuart's confusion, he inadvertently asks for this; the caller shoots Leon dead. The prostitutes immediately blame Stuart, accusing him of having a gun, as the police and news crews converge on the location. NYPD Captain Ed Ramey seals off the area and negotiates to make Stuart leave the booth, but he refuses. Stuart tells the caller that there is no way they can incriminate him, but the caller draws his attention to a handgun planted in the roof of the phone booth. As Kelly and Pam both arrive on the scene, the caller demands that Stuart tell Kelly the truth, which he does. The caller then orders Stuart to choose between Kelly and Pam, and the woman he does not choose will be shot. Stuart secretly uses his cell phone to call Kelly, allowing her to overhear his conversation with the caller; she quietly informs Ramey of this. Meanwhile, Stuart continues to confess to everyone that his whole life is a lie, to make himself look better than he really is. Stuart's confession provides sufficient distraction to allow the police to trace the payphone call to a nearby building. Stuart warns the caller that the police are on the way, and the caller replies that if he is caught, he will kill Kelly. Desperate, Stuart grabs the handgun and leaves the booth, begging for the sniper to kill him instead. The police fire upon Stuart, while a SWAT team breaks into the room that the caller was tracked to, only to find a rifle and a man's corpse. Stuart regains consciousness; the police having fired only rubber bullets, stunning but not harming him. Stuart and Kelly happily reconcile. As the police bring down the body, Stuart identifies it as the pizza delivery man from earlier. Stuart gets medical treatment at a local ambulance. After getting a shot from a paramedic, he starts losing conscience. The real caller passes by, warning Stuart that if his newfound honesty does not last, he will return, before disappearing into the crowd, while the pay phone rings again.