Jerry Maguire Page #4

INT. LOBBY -- DAY

The lobby is filled with SMI agents. The blue Mission

Statement is in evidence everywhere. Jerry inconspicuously

turns the corner, yearns to blend in. It's impossible, the

recognition ripples through the lobby. Underling agent BOB

SUGAR, 25, is the first to grab Maguire by the shoulders.

("Finally, someone said it!") Suddenly another agent begins

to clap, then reluctantly, another. Soon, the ovation rocks

the lobby. (In a three-shot near the front desk, we see a 26

year-old female employee of SMI applauding with Mission

Statement in hand, her sleepy son at her side.) Jerry

motions for them all to stop, but clearly he could listen

forever. It is a watershed moment in his life.

JERRY'S VOICE

I was 35. I had started my life.

Swing off Maguire to find two agents standing clapping

enthusiastically near the elevator. One offers gum to the

other.

AGENT # 1 (RACHEL)

How long you give him?

AGENT # 2 (CHRIS)

Mmmm. A week.

ON AIRPLANE WHEELS

folding up into a plane, as music and credits end.

INT. AIRPLANE/FIRST CLASS -- NIGHT

We move past a snoring businessman, onto tired but

adrenalized Jerry Maguire. He sits in first-class, working

on his laptop, a pile of newspapers and magazines nearby.

The WOMAN PASSENGER next to him, 3oish, finishes up a spicy

phone conversation with her boyfriend.

_

10.

WOMAN:

Monkeyface... monkeyface,

listen... I'm not going to say it

here.... no...

Jerry continues to work, as his laptop now beeps. Battery's

low.

WOMAN:

(continuing)

... oh listen, I got you the

perfect white shirt, at this out

of the way place... no... quit

trying to make me say it!

Jerry shuts off his laptop and prepares for sleep. Trying

not to listen.

WOMAN:

(continuing)

how about if I do it and don't say

it... mmmm... see you soon...

She laughs seductively and hangs up. She is still buzzed

from the conversation. Jerry turns to her, surprising her.

JERRY:

I have to ask.

WOMAN:

(protective)

What --

JERRY:

Where'd you find the perfect white

shirt?

She laughs, it's an infectious laugh -- two strangers

enjoying the good life -- as we DRIFT BACK three rows, past

the panel separating the cool comfort of first class from the

stuffy airless and uncomfortable world of coach.

We meet DOROTHY BOYD, 26. A harried passenger on this bus in

the sky. Her clothes are part-contemporary, part mother-

functional. She is never as composed or in control as she

wants to be. Right now she is devoted to the sneezing kid in

the wrinkled white-shirt sitting next to her. It is RAY, her

five-year old son. Dorothy is covered in toys and books.

Stuffed into the side pocket is Jerry's Mission Statement.

The easy laughter from three rows ahead washes over her like

cold water, as she rings again for a Flight Attendant. The

overworked ATTENDANT arrives, pissed, snapping off the bell.

_

11.

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