EXT. METROPOLITAN CITY - DOWNTOWN - LATE NIGHT

Hot summer night. The flesh district - hookers working the

sidewalks, stopping cars.

MIKE REILLY, 20s, paces a corner, restless, looking for

action ... wet hair, three-day beard, trenchcoat, sneakers,

heat-seeking weary eyes. He flashes a wad of bills in an

effort to get some attention... no one notices.

Across the street, BILL RICE, 50's, a ragged transient,

strolls over.

RICE:

Know what the problem is, kid? You're too

ugly to get propositioned.

REILLY:

Look who's talking, old man.

RICE:

C'mon, it's a quiet night.

Rice starts away. Reilly pauses, then trudges after him.

EXT. SIDESTREET - NIGHT

Rice and Reilly pull donuts and coffee out of a bag, talk

with their mouths full as they walk.

RICE:

Next week we work the park.

REILLY:

I gotta get back on top. Get off the sleaze

detail.

RICE:

You will, one day at a time. I'll be old and

grey when it happens...

They share a grin, pass a BAG LADY who wears a pie-tin crown,

holding her hand out to a PIMP getting into a Cadillac.

BAG LADY:

A small gift, sir, for the Queen ...

The Pimp ignores her, screeches off. The Bag Lady pulls out

a pad, adds his license number to a list, glances up at Rice

and Reilly.

BAG LADY (cont.)

I keep a record, see? They don't

pay, I don't forget.

Rice fishes some change out of his pocket.

RICE:

Here you go, your Highness.

BAG LADY:

Thank you, officer.

She pushes her shopping cart away. Rice and Reilly look at

each other, crack up, surprised she knew he was a cop.

REILLY:

So what'll you do? After they give you the

gold watch.

RICE:

Hell, I got a gold watch... it just don't

work. Maybe they'll give me a new fishing

pole, or something useful.

REILLY:

You don't fish.

RICE:

How hard can it be? The grand kids been

buggin' me about taking them camping.

REILLY:

You outta the city... that's a fish out of

water. What's with all this family talk

lately, anyway?

RICE:

One of these days you're gonna get tired of

fighting the shit. When that happens, you'll

wish you had family.

REILLY:

No thanks. I got close but it never woulda

worked.

They stop beside a dirty, beat-up Studebaker parked in the

alley, climb in, Reilly behind the wheel.

INSIDE THE STUDEBAKER

Cluttered with debris - clothes, boxes, personal items.

Reilly jiggles the ignition - the engine coughs and sputters,

finally turns over.

RICE:

Why don't you just shoot it and put it out of

its misery?

REILLY:

What are you talking about, it's purring like

a kitty.

RICE:

I thought you said what's-her-name's brother

was going to fix it.

REILLY:

She didn't work out, had to cut her loose.

RICE:

What was it this time?

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