Jerry Maguire Page #7

RAY:

What's wrong, mom?

DOROTHY:

First class is what's wrong. It

used to be a better meal. Now

it's a better life.

She pulls out the Mission Statement, aware that she's been

listening to its author. She opens it and begins to read.

INT. LAX AIRPORT TERMINAL -- MORNING

Jerry Maguire exits the plane a few steps behind Bobbi Fallon.

JERRY:

(quietly, like a

coach)

You'll know when you see him.

You'll know when you see him.

Bobbi scans the crowd. She spots Monkeyface, large and burly

in tiger-print sweats. He looks like Mickey Dolenz. He

holds flowers.

_

16.

WOMAN:

Oh my God, you're right. I know.

(Jerry smiles)

He's not The One. He's not the

One.

Jerry's face falls. Bobbi Fallon moves into the embrace,

faking it. Jerry moves ahead, turning back to see the doomed

couple. Melancholy now, he continues forward through the

crowded airport and the expectant faces of those waiting for

loved ones. Music.

INT. LUGGAGE AREA -- MORNING

Dorothy looks through the rubber flaps of the luggage

conveyor belt. She clutches a cup of coffee. In the

background, other SMI agents' grab their bags and exit.

DOROTHY:

Ray! Ray!

Maguire enters picture, joining her as she looks into the

dark depths behind the flaps.

JERRY:

Can I help?

DOROTHY:

Oh. Hi. I work in your office.

I was on the junket to the

conference. I'm --

JERRY:

I know who y6u are. You're

Dorothy Boyd. You're in...

wait... you're in Accounts. You

have the middle cubicle toward the

back with that poster of Albert

Einstein morphed onto Shaquille 0

Neal's body.

DOROTHY:

(surprised)

Hmm. Pretty good.

JERRY:

Now what did you lose?

DOROTHY:

My son... my mind...

Over her shoulder, Maguire sees Ray rounding the corner,

riding the luggage conveyor belt like Washington crossing the

Delaware.

_

17.

JERRY:

Well, while I go look for him, why

don't you hang onto this curious

gentleman behind you --

Dorothy turns, is greatly relieved to see Ray, and snatches

him off the belt. She bends down into his face. She speaks

softly but intensely, with no frills.

DOROTHY:

Remember "imagination?"...

remember what that means? Well,

this is one of my bosses so you

will now IMAGINE me screaming at

you right now. Do NOT do that

again. Ever ever EVER.

She rises, shifting back to being a somewhat relaxed young

woman of 26. It's a transition she makes, oh, 500 times a

day.

DOROTHY:

(continuing)

Well, thanks.

JERRY:

Well, take care.

DOROTHY:

And have fun at your bachelor

party.

Jerry pauses just a moment, but it's long enough. Dorothy

freezes.

DOROTHY:

(continuing)

Oh no.

JERRY:

No no. I knew.

DOROTHY:

(slow sigh)

Nnnnn. I just killed the surprise.

JERRY:

No, I'm just... anxiously looking

past it. I already had my

bachelor party. It was called "my

twenties." See you later.

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