Runaway Bride Page #2

MAN (cont'd)

I've witnessed far more treacherous and

nefarious exits than that. At least

she castigated you in private.

IKE:

Not as private as I thought.

Ike turns slightly, giving the man his back.

IKE (cont'd)

Kevin, you've got some napkins?

BARTENDER:

Writing or wiping?

IKE:

Give me a pen.

The Bartender gives him cocktail napkins and a pen. Ike starts

making notes. Ike looks up from his writing. The Man gets up

and starts throwing darts.

MAN:

(throwing darts hard)

Ah, come on. They deserve it. They

love you, they hate you, they're hot,

they're cold, they're high, they're

low...

IKE:

... They're up, they're down. It's

really fun making this list with you,

but I've got a column to go write.

BARTENDER:

Ike.

MAN:

(undeterred)

But you don't have a really superb idea!

Well, there's a girl from my hometown

you could write about.

Ike moves to the Bartender and pays him.

BARTENDER:

(to Man)

Excuse me, we don't need any new ideas.

MAN:

She likes to dump grooms right at the

altar. They call her "The Runaway

Bride".

Both Ike and Bartender turn and stare.

MAN:

She performed the travesty seven or

eight times. Right at the altar she

turns around and runs like hell.

Bolts.

Ike turns and heads for the door. The Man calls after him,

getting up from his stool without stopping his enthusiastic

story.

MAN (cont'd)

Adios. Plows down the aisle, knocking

old ladies out of her way like the

running of the bulls at Pamplona. And

guess what?

IKE:

I give up.

MAN:

She has the next victim all lined up.

She's twirling another body on the

spit.

Ike stops in his tracks. He turns back around in spite of

himself.

MAN:

(beginning his story)

Imagine if you will, a small town in

Maryland...

CUT TO:

INT. IKE'S APARTMENT - DUSK

Ike sits at his computer, cassette player with Miles Davis PLAYS

next to him as he types away reading his handiwork to himself.

IKE:

(reading)

"Today is a day of profound

introspection, I have been accused

of using this column to direct bitter

diatribes at the opposite sex! This

uncomfortable accusation has plunged me

into at least fifteen minutes of

serious reflection, from which I have

emerged with the conclusion that, yes

-- I traffic in female stereotypes."

EXT. USA TODAY OFFICE - DAY

FISHER walks through the main office reading the paper.

FISHER:

"But how can one blame me when every

time I step out my front door I meet

fresh proof that the female archetypes

are alive and well? Te mother, the

virgin, the whore, the crone; they're

elbowing you in the subway, stealing

your cabs, and overwhelming you with

perfume in elevators."

Rate this script:1.5 / 2 votes