Strange Days Page #4
- R
- Year:
- 1995
- 145 min
- 462 Views
LENNY:
I don't deal black-jack clips! It's
policy. I got ethics here.
TICK:
Yeah, when did that start? Come on,
man! It's what people want to see,
and you know it.
LENNY:
So lay it off to somebody else.
TICK:
Come on, Lenny. I got expenses. I
got to get this rig fixed. Look at
it...
Tick holds up a zip-lock bag containing the Walkman-sized
stainless steel CORTICAL RESONANCE RECORDER, the record
deck we saw earlier in the POV. Also in the bag is the
SQUID NET, a matrix of sensors designed to conform to the
human head (this is different from playback trodes). The
whole works are covered with congealed blood.
TICK:
Give me six at least. This's a good
clip, here. Gets you pumpin'.
LENNY:
Yeah, well, the first part's okay.
Better than the usual soaps you
bring me.
TICK:
Now that is cold, Lenny. I always
bring you choice.
Lenny fishes around in a cardboard box at Tick's feet,
pulling out a tape.
LENNY:
Sure, like this low-grade sh*t here,
some girl in a fight with her
boyfriend... it's a test-pattern.
Nothing happens. I'm snorin'.
TICK:
Hey, you're always saying, 'Bring me
real life. Bring me street life.
And, like, one man's mundane and
desperate existence is another man's
Technicolor.'
LENNY:
I said that? Look, I'll take it for
five, and you'll make out okay,
because in this case it's pure
cream, you don't have to cut
anything back to the wearer.
TICK:
Ha! That's for f***ing sure.
LENNY:
What else you got?
CUT TO:
MONTAGE/SERIES OF SHOTS
Lenny in his BMW, driving through the LA streets.
Streetlights and neon flare across the windshield in a
calligraphy of light. Lenny works the cellular, gets
messages on his DIGITAL PAGER, weaves in and out of
traffic -- punches the buttons on his radio, changing
stations all the time. Raw, nervous energy: like a kid
who can't stay still. It's a hard hustle in the big food
chain.
LENNY:
Look, Jerr. I'm nothing if not a
man of my word. I'll drop the money
by tomorrow, next day latest. It's
a little crazed right now. Yeah, on
my mother's eyes, I swear. Thanks,
buddy.
(hangs up)
Prick.
(to the car ahead
honking)
What kinda move you call that?!
Lemmings.
Lenny turns up the radio. SELECTED DRIVE-BY IMAGES, as
the talk-radio provides commentary.
Lenny's car passing under glowing Santa Clauses on the
light-poles. Banners proclaiming the coming "Millennium
LA" festivities.
TALK-RADIO HOST
... it's a little after 2 am on
December 30th, 1999... the second to
last day of the whole darn century,
and the phone lines are open. Dan
from Silverlake, you're on the air.
Transition to a rougher section of town. Buildings roll
by endlessly, tagged by gangs in graphic tribal patterns.
some are burnt-out ruins.
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"Strange Days" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 4 May 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/strange_days_628>.
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