L.A. Success (21 page)

The Eldorado pulls into the parking lot. GERTIE opens the glove compartment and pulls out an aerosol can. She begins spraying it on herself as if it were perfume.

LONNIE HERISSON

Yuck! What is that foul crap?

GERTIE ELLIOT

It's toilet freshener—vanilla mint. These people believe that the meek shall inherit the earth. That means if I walk in there with Chanel #5, I got nowhere to go but down.

LONNIE HERISSON

That's weird...I'm so used to that scent covering up poo smell that I can almost smell poo now.

LONNIE and GERTIE get out and walk over to the front door, where a smiling, nerdy youth hands out programs. LONNIE takes one. He looks at the title. It reads "How to tell your acquaintances they're practically burning in hell already while serving food at a barbecue, part two."

INT. PENTECOSTAL CHURCH IN REDONDO BEACH - CONTINUOUS

The interior of the church has the feel of a warehouse. There are basketball goals, retracted for today's sermon, at both ends of the rectangular room. Folding chairs are arranged in rows facing a temporary stage set up against one of the long walls. The stage is surrounded by P.A. speakers, and there is a projector screen set up in the middle of it. A refreshment stand, featuring an assortment of powdered drinks, is in one of the back corners.

People are filling in the seats, holding their bibles and plastic cups of sugary, fluorescent beverages. GERTIE and LONNIE head to the front row, where JACOB and ABIGAIL RITTER stand to greet them. Both JACOB and ABIGAIL look as though they have never seen the sun and have hand sewn their clothes. Several worshipers watch jealously and whisper once they see GERTIE talking with them.

GERTIE ELLIOT

And here they are, all the way from Kansas! Are you adjusting to the area okay?

ABIGAIL glances around to make sure no one is close enough to hear, and then leans in and talks softly to GERTIE and LONNIE.

ABIGAIL RITTER

To tell the truth, I now understand why the church relocated us out here. When we signed up to be missionaries, I thought we'd end up in Africa, but they were right: these people are in much more urgent need of being saved. We only arrived yesterday, but I've already seen...

(Whispering)

A member!

JACOB RITTER

Now Abigail, that man was a long way away. You were in no danger.

GERTIE introduces LONNIE. They all shake hands.

There is movement in front, so everyone sits down. A DANGEROUSLY THIN PASTOR in an expensive baggy suit, and a motley collection of musicians, all of whose instruments feature at least one sticker proclaiming the varying extent to which Jesus rocks, take their places on the stage. The DANGEROUSLY THIN PASTOR signals for the band to start. They begin playing a three-chord song, the lyrics of which make LONNIE uncomfortable as they largely concern being touched in an unspecified way.  The DANGEROUSLY THIN PASTOR raises his hands and begins to gyrate arrhythmically. The congregation takes this as a cue and does the same.

LONNIE, confused, looks at GERTIE.

GERTIE ELLIOT

I never said selling houses was easy.

GERTIE raises her hands in the air and joins the others. LONNIE, after much hesitation, does the same.

The musicians, worrying that even this audience will tire of the same three chords, begin a disastrous improvisation, punctuated by exaggerated facial expressions. No individual member of the congregation wanting to be the kill joy, they all continue their embarrassing epileptic communion.

GERTIE looks around and sees everyone's eyes closed in intense worship. She starts reaching over toward LONNIE's fun parts. LONNIE, feeling her hands nearing their target, opens his eyes and sees GERTIE's serpentine, possessed eyes. The SUPPLEMENTARY TERRIAN DWELLER is attacking!

LONNIE HERISSON

ARRRGGGGHHH! Jesus!

The congregation imitates LONNIE, screaming “arrrggghhh! Jesus!” LONNIE runs toward the stage and is quickly surrounded by worshipers. He looks over to see GERTIE laughing evilly. Then, all at once, her eyes return to normal, and she is surprised to see LONNIE dancing with the others.

The DANGEROUSLY THIN PASTOR steps up to the microphone.

DANGEROUSLY THIN PASTOR

Thank you. Please take your seats.

LONNIE, a bit spooked, returns to his seat.

GERTIE ELLIOT

(Whispering to Lonnie)

Wow. That was some show.

LONNIE looks at GERTIE suspiciously.

DANGEROUSLY THIN PASTOR

Last Sunday, I explained to you how to handle the barbecue situation when you find yourself serving the burgers and dogs, or whatever your main course be.

OVER-ZEALOUS CHURCH GOER

Amen!

DANGEROUSLY THIN PASTOR

Yes, amen indeed! But that was the easy part, for even the most unapologetic atheist will listen to you tell him he's going to the eternal fires in order to have that delicious burger on his plate. In part two of my series, I explain how to go about it should you find yourself holding the potato- or Jell-O-salad spoon, for no man will listen to harrowing news for such a meager pay off. Without the proper technique, you'll find that your heathens speed off, back to their wickedness, and you'll lose soul after soul.

LONNIE begins to zone out. The words become distant mumblings. His expression is one of worry. He watches GERTIE from the corner of his eye, waiting for the DWELLER to return.

EXT. PENTECOSTAL CHURCH IN REDONDO BEACH - LATER

GERTIE, LONNIE, ABIGAIL and JACOB exit the church. They wave goodbye on the way to their cars.

GERTIE ELLIOT

We'll visit the house tomorrow. Bless you two!

JACOB and ABIGAIL smile giddily, get in their angular Chrysler and drive away.

GERTIE ELLIOT (CONT'D)

For fuck's sake I thought that would never end! But you were amazing. This calls for a celebration.

INT. ISLANDS RESTAURANT - LATER

GERTIE and LONNIE sit at a bar table at Islands restaurant, the only restaurant that successfully answers the question “what if we could combine burger-and-fry obesity with a tropical-island, grass-skirt theme?” They are drinking margaritas on the rocks.

GERTIE ELLIOT

Do you have any idea how much money I'm going to make tomorrow? You know, one beautiful thing about this city is that there's always a fresh wave of suckers looking to move here. No sooner do you kick one weary soul out than another starry-eyed wannabe is lining up to pay whatever price you ask. That's why you never negotiate and you always raise the rent, no matter how the economy is doing.

LONNIE takes a long drink of margarita.

LONNIE HERISSON

Yeah, I guess that's cool.

GERTIE does a double take.

GERTIE ELLIOT

What do you mean “you guess?” Are you going soft on me?

LONNIE stares into his margarita and then looks into GERTIE's eyes, unable to speak.

GERTIE ELLIOT (CONT'D)

Ah...I see. You've fallen for The Gert. It's normal. I'm powerful, mysterious, and successful—I'm in control and you aim to please. You will make a great real-estate agent, won't you!

LONNIE HERISSON

I hope so, but it's not that. I've lost the best thing I ever had in life, and it's finally eating me up.

GERTIE ELLIOT

Why don't you buy me another margarita and tell me all about it. There's no love position I haven't been in.

LONNIE tells GERTIE all about his love life, his desire to win Helen back, and how he feels powerless to change things.

INT. LONNIE HERISSON'S HOUSE - NIGHT

LONNIE sits on the couch watching television. He hears a knock on the door.

LONNIE HERISSON

It's open!

The door opens. It's GERTIE, holding some papers.

GERTIE ELLIOT

I forgot to give you these. They're next week's targets.

LONNIE takes the stack of papers and looks them over.

LONNIE HERISSON

These are police reports...

GERTIE ELLIOT

I've got connections in the force. These are all from home owners who have lodged multiple complaints against their neighbors. I'm going to need you to study these and come up with ways to up the ante. One of the bad neighbors keeps taking a whiz on his neighbor's property. Maybe you could save up a few gallons and pour it all over in the middle of the night. I'll offer my services the very next day. Just an idea.

LONNIE HERISSON

You came all the way over here just to give me these? I could've got them in the morning.

GERTIE glances toward the guest room.

GERTIE ELLIOT

Well, I haven't said hello to your charming roommate in a while. Is he in?

LONNIE HERISSON

(Calling out)

Hey Tommy! Come on out a minute.

The guest-room door opens, and out walks TOMMY, a muscular, handsome Frenchman with a full head of wavy hair. His shirt is half unbuttoned, revealing a tanned, hairless chest. He has an air of mystery about him. One could even say he looked as if he were concealing something. He speaks with a very light accent.

TOMMY

Gertie! I'm so glad you dropped by. How have you been?

GERTIE ELLIOT

(Coquettishly)

Oh, you know. Working away. A girl's gotta make a living. Come have a glass of wine with us. Lonnie was just going to open a bottle.

LONNIE HERISSON

I was? Oh yeah. Let me go get that.

LONNIE gets up and goes into the kitchen. TOMMY sits down on the couch. GERTIE sits down right next to him, even though the couch is quite long.

From the kitchen, LONNIE hears small talk and laughing. With bottle and glasses in hand, he returns to the living room. He immediately notices that GERTIE has placed her hand on TOMMY's muscular leg.

LONNIE HERISSON

So Gertie, how is Steven doing? That is the love of your life's name, right?

GERTIE scowls slightly at LONNIE.

GERTIE ELLIOT

Never heard of him.

LONNIE opens the bottle and pours the wine.

LONNIE HERISSON

Well, I'm sure he's thinking about you.

They all toast. The small talk continues. After half an hour, LONNIE begins to yawn.

LONNIE HERISSON (CONT'D)

Time to hit the hay. Talk to you tomorrow, Gertie.

LONNIE gets up, expecting GERTIE to stand as well.

GERTIE ELLIOT

(Remains seated)

Okay. Sweet dreams, right-hand man.

LONNIE heads to his room. As he closes his bedroom door, he peeks out into the living room. He feels horribly worried. Will GERTIE take the innocent flirting to the next level and cheat on her lover? Should LONNIE, in reality a private investigator hired by GERTIE's lover, step in and break it up before discovering if she would really go through with it or not? Should LONNIE be worried that GERTIE will transfer the SUPPLEMENTARY TERRIAN DWELLER to TOMMY, thus moving it one step closer to its final objective: returning to LONNIE? All of these questions and more will be answered in the final installment!

33

I leaned back and admired my work. Spieldburt was definitely going to be on the edge of his seat after this one, and no matter what kind of negotiating he did, he wasn't going to see one more page until I had some money.

That reminded me, it was about time I got some photos of the old gal in the sack to go along with the third act. I'd been putting it off for as long as possible because seeing Tommy naked had already freaked me out enough. He and Gertie together could do me—I mean cause me—some serious psychological damage.

I turned a few pages and noticed that I had spelled all sorts of things weird. There were even a few paragraphs where it looked like some kind of localized dyslexia had kicked in, and I could barely make out what I had written. I thought about fixing all this stuff, but then realized that's what people like Grant are for. How many times had I heard about famous L.A. movie-producer guys who had the dumbest ideas, but who pulled together a team of poor suckers from all over the country to work like slaves cleaning everything up? “Hey guys, I got an idea: There's some kind of disaster, maybe an earthquake, tornado, giant asteroid—whatever—and then there's like a hero, but different in some tiny way from all the other heroes that have been out recently. Maybe this one has OCD, so he has to turn the light switches on and off 25 times before he can pull anyone out of burning buildings—what the hell do I know? Anyway, everybody would've died if this guy, girl, or trained dog, didn't do something amazing at the end. And then, when everybody's safe and happy, they do it. Okay, write all my sweet ideas up on your fancy computers. You won't get any writing credit for this one since it is my idea, after all.” I decided to mail it as is. I'm sure nothing ever arrives on someone's desk looking professional. An editor always goes through it and makes it readable before it gets to the public eye, so Spieldburt was probably used to seeing crappy spelling and whatnot when he read through first drafts.

All my writer buddies seemed really stressed out. It didn't help things for them that I was always coming here and writing as fast as possible and then leaving all happy with myself. I had noticed a few of them giving me bitter looks from time to time as I smashed a period or zorroed a question mark onto the ends of my sentences.