"The Wrong Man" continued...
{Scene: Gary walking the streets of Chicago...}
CHUCK: Youre making it up.
GARY: Well, its right here in black and white. Partner in brokerage firm found murdered late Tuesday night at the firm of Strauss & Associates....
{We see, in muted colors, how the murder happened while Gary continues to read the article...}
GARY: Vice President Philip Pritchard was shot dead.
{see someone dragging Pritchards body out of an elevator}
GARY: The bullet-riddled corpse was discovered early the next morning by his secretary.
{see Pritchards body in a chair at his desk. Employees are gathered around.}
GARY: Trading was suspended, as grief-stricken Strauss & Associates employees spent the day in mourning.
{The grieving employees are seen drinking champagne and celebrating around Pritchards dead body.}
GARY: Based on initial evidence, Police suspect a disgruntled employee is responsible.
CHUCK: Ha, ha, ha. Somebodys gonna whack Pritchard! I cant believe it took this long.
GARY: I dont want to do it.
CHUCK: Excuse me?
GARY: I dont wanna save him.
CHUCK: You dont want... You? Gary Hobson? Cub Scout to the world?
GARY: Theres not a reason in the world why I *should.* The guy made *my* life miserable, he makes *everybodys* life miserable.
CHUCK: Gary, listen...
GARY: Hes marrying my wife.
CHUCK: Your *ex* wife. *Ex.* Look, Gary, Gary. I know, Im the one who usually says ok, let this person - this angel of mercy - do the world a favor by plugging Pritchard full of lead. But...I know you. I know your style. Youre not gonna want to see Harrison, or any other sap for that matter, go to the chair for offing Pritchard. You got no choice.
{Scene change: Strauss & Associates. Gary and Chuck try to warn Pritchard...}
SAM: Nothing for you today Mr Hobson.
GARY: What?
SAM: No mail. But, about that other thing. Misfiled mail. Nothin yet, but Im on it.
PRITCHARD: Hobson.
{Pritchard starts to run away from Gary, heading to the executive washroom....}
GARY: Pritchard.
PRITCHARD: Stay away from me Hobson!
GARY: Look, Pritchard. Wait a second!
PRITCHARD: Leave me alone! Stay away from me.
GARY: I just need to talk to you a second.
{... where he locks himself in...}
PRITCHARD: Leave me alone, Hobson.
GARY: You need to hear this, its important.
PRITCHARD: I mean it!
GARY: Youre gonna get hurt.
{Chuck walks back into the scene...}
GARY: Did you hear me? Someones gonna kill ya. Today.
PRITCHARD: Dont you threaten me in my office, Hobson.
GARY: Did I threaten him?
CHUCK: Well, ah, you know, well, yeah.
PRITCHARD: I got witnesses. Fishman, you out there? You hear this?
CHUCK: Ah, yes, sir, every word.
PRITCHARD: Whats this? Shingles? Im getting shingles cause of you, Hobson. Youre gonna hear from my lawyer.
{Pritchard pulls out a phone and starts dialing...}
PRITCHARD: Get me building security.
{Scene change: Gary getting tossed out of building by two security guys.}
CHUCK: Excuse me.
SECURITY GUARD#1: Youre excused.
GARY: Im done. I did everything I could, I give up on the guy.
CHUCK: You did your best.
GARY: You know, I got plenty of people in here. People who *deserve* to be saved. Food Poisoning strikes Restaurant. Twelve Hospitalized with Salmonella Theres my afternoon. You want to give him a hand, you go right ahead. But Im through. Im finished. If I never see Phil Pritchard again, itll be too soon.
{Scene change: Kitchen of French restaurant...}
HENRI: Public is not allowed back here, this is my kitchen. Out.
GARY: Look, Im telling you, your chickens bad, you cant serve it.
HENRI: You do not tell Henri what to sell. There is *nothing* wrong with my chicken. My chicken is *good* chicken. *Robust* chicken.
GARY: Well, someone left your chicken out, youre gonna give these people Salmonella.
HENRI: Michel, was the chicken left out today?
{Michel shakes head no.}
HENRI: There you go. Now, you excuse me. I have got a full house.
{Gary looks frustrated and accidentally sticks his hand on the hot stove-top while leaning on it...}
{Scene change: Phil, Marcia, and Marcias parents (Mr. & Mrs. Roberts) eating dinner at French restaurant...}
MR ROBERTS: Well, Ill messenger the prospectus over this afternoon, just...look at them.
PRITCHARD: No, it sounds perfect. You know, our company specializes in high-tech companies, so, it might be a good match.
{Phil notices Mrs. Roberts staring at his outbreak of Shingles...}
PRITCHARD: Squash accident.
MRS ROBERTS: Oh, that. I didnt even notice.
MR ROBERTS: Well, Im not looking for any special favors. Just know that, if you turn me down, the weddings off. Ha, ha, ha, ha....
MARCIA: Dad. No business, remember?
PRITCHARD: No, its ok honey, I dont mind. Your father and I have a lot to talk about. Now, what do you think of the Escargot?
{Scene change: Kitchen. Henri instructs man to take the chicken-ka-bobs out.}
GARY: Hes lying. He left the chicken out, and he doesnt want you to fire him.
HENRI: Are you from the department of health?
GARY: Well, no, Im not from the department...
HENRI: Then you leave. Or would you like Michel to show you the door?
GARY: Please. Just *look* at the chicken.
HENRI: Too late. Its gone.
{Scene change: Dining area. Pritchard is giving a toast. In the background the chicken-ka-bobs are being lighted...}
PRITCHARD: Heres to my beautiful Fiancee. And, her amazing parents, who have raised such a wonderful kid. Ha, ha, ha.
{In background is Gary struggling with waiter over the chicken...}
GARY: Ill take that.
WAITER: What are you doing?
PRITCHARD: Today my life is complete.
GARY: Theyre *bad.*
PRITCHARD: And I feel truly blessed.
{The flaming Ka-bobs get away from Gary and the Waiter and go flying across the room, stabbing themselves into Pritchards table, the last one catching Pritchards sleeve, pinning him to the table and catching his sleeve on fire.}
PRITCHARD: Aaaaahhhhh! Help! Help me! Help me! Help! Help me!
MARCIA: Mom...
{Mrs Roberts tosses her glass of Brandy on the fire...}
PRITCHARD: No, not the Brandy! Aaaahhhh. Aaaahhhh. Aaaahhh. Help! Someone! Help me!
{Gary rushes to the rescue, pulling a tablecloth off of someone elses table and throwing it over the flaming Pritchard, pulling him to the ground. Gary takes the tablecloth off of a stunned Pritchard and realizes, too late, who it is. As Marcia and her parents look at Gary in shock and disbelief, he tries to non-verbally explain that he didnt know it was Pritchard....cut to commercial.}
{Scene change: Chuck talking to Gary at the visiting area of the jail.}
GARY: Thats what friends do, Chuck. They bail each other out.
CHUCK: I know, Gar, but Im sorry. Its just that, Im not liquid right now. Its a temporary thing.
GARY: Temporary? How temporary?
CHUCK: A week.
GARY: A week?
CHUCK: I tried to tell them it was your first public disturbance offence, but they wouldnt budge.
GUARD AT JAIL: Gary Hobson? You made bail.
{Scene change: Gary and Chuck on their way out of police station, meeting Marcia, who has bailed him out.}
MARCIA: Its over. My engagement. Canceled. Phil called the whole thing off.
{Marcia starts to leave, Gary and Chuck follow...}
GARY: Look, Marcia. Im sorry, I...
CHUCK: What are you apologizing for? Its not your fault.
MARCIA: Yes, it is.
GARY: Its *my* fault?
MARCIA: Phil told me that he didnt want to get married if it meant he had to spend the rest of his life looking over his shoulder for you...
{As Marcia goes through a swinging door, she gives it a good push backwards, whacking Gary in the legs.}
MARCIA: ...thank you very much. Hes scared of you, Gary.
CHUCK: Its those impulses, Im tellin you.
GARY: Look, Marcia. I didnt mean to hurt the guy. It was a squash court. Its a game. And that restaurant, Im tellin ya....
CHUCK: And why were you in that restaurant again, Gary?
MARCIA: I dont know what you were doing there. But I know you, Gary. You would *never* do anything to hurt anybody.
GARY: No, I wouldnt.
CHUCK: No he wouldnt.
MARCIA: Go talk to Phil.
GARY: Talk...Marcia, I dont think the guy wants to see *me.*
MARCIA: You owe me. I just bailed you out. Let him know that youre not gonna try and come after him.
GARY: Well, you...
MARCIA: Hes a mess, Gary. Please.
GARY: Well...
{Scene change: Strauss & Associates, after hours.}
GARY: Roger? Its kinda late, you should be getting home, huh?
ROGER: Take it to Pritchard. He keeps me here till ten oclock every night. Half of this stuff he never even reads.
GARY: Where is he? Is he here?
ROGER: You know, one of these days, someone should really teach him to treat his employees as human beings.
GARY: Roger. Maybe you should go home and get some rest before...something happens. I know what youre planning on doing, Roger.
ROGER: What? You heard Im quitting? Wow. No secrets in this place.
GARY: Youre quitting?
ROGER: Yeah. Im giving my notice tomorrow. You know what convinced me? It was your friend Fishman.
GARY: Chuck?
ROGER: He was right. I found the source of my stress. This *job.* Im not cut out for it. Im gonna go get a job in a bookstore. I *like* books.
GARY: So, youre not planning on...hurting Pritchard?
ROGER: Are you kidding? Pritchards not worth it. I mean, you know what the Dalai Lama says?
{Gary checks paper, and it still says Pritchard gets murdered....}
ROGER: All enemies are bound by the mastery of mind.
GARY: Where is he? Where is Pritchard?
ROGER: I think I saw him head down to the parking lot, just before you got here.
{Gary runs off towards parking lot....}
{Scene change: parking lot with Pritchard (who is tied up) and Sam (who is wielding a gun)...}
PRITCHARD: Please, please. Please dont do this.
SAM: Oh, I see. Suddenly its please, and its thank you. *Now* youre Mr. Polite. Well, now its too late.
PRITCHARD: Help me, somebody!!!!! Whatever you want, Sam, its yours. Just name it. Anything.
SAM: I want you to die.
PRITCHARD: Uh-huh. Anything else?
GARY: Hey, Sam!
PRITCHARD: Oh, Hobson. I dont believe this.
SAM: Hi, Mr. Hobson. I hope youre not here about your mail.
GARY: Hey, Sam? What are you doin?
PRITCHARD: What does it look like? Hes gonna kill me.
SAM: Were just having a little chat. Sorry, its...kinda private.
PRITCHARD: Dont let him hurt me.
GARY: Just try and stay calm, would ya?
PRITCHARD: Im not talking to you. Dont let Hobson hurt me.
GARY: Hey, Sam? Why dont you let him go, huh?
SAM: Cant do it. Can I, Mr Pritchard. Cant do it. You know, every week I put in for a promotion. *Every week.* All I wanna do is trade stocks.
GARY: Well, Sam, you gotta work your way up.
SAM: Ive been in the mailroom for *nine* years.
GARY: Really?
SAM: Know what I do in my spare time? I buy and sell stocks. On paper, no money, but I keep track. I made 75 thousand dollars alone this month. On paper.
PRITCHARD: What? I never knew. I had no idea.
SAM: Thats right. You have no idea. *You* have no clue, and Im still in the mailroom. Thats my life. Whens the last time you didnt get your Wall Street Journal?
PRITCHARD: I dont know.
SAM: He doesnt know. *Never.* You *always* get your Journal. Every day. Even on Thursdays, when I wash your car. Even on Mondays, when I get your *cleaning.* So whens it my turn, Mr. Pritchard? Whens my shot? You see, dont you? This is why I gotta kill him.
GARY: Hey, Sam? Why dont you give me the gun?
SAM: What?
GARY: Well, Im not saying you gotta let him go, Im, Im just saying, give me the gun, huh? Look, if anybody should settle a score with this guy, it should be me.
SAM: Why?
GARY: I worked for this guy two years. *Every single day* he let me know what a lousy job Im doing. Then my wife leaves me. Im having a hard time. Pritchard here threatens to *fire* me, so I quit. Then the day before yesterday, you know what I find out? My ex-wife is remarrying. Guess who shes marrying.
{Gary and Sam look at Pritchard.}
SAM: Youre right. *You* should shoot him.
PRITCHARD: No, dont do it. Its a trick. Hes crazy. Hes a lunatic.
SAM: You had to listen to two years of that? Thats verbal abuse. Im tired.
GARY: Look, Sam. You know, why dont you take a break. I mean, Im sure your job will be here when you get back. Wont it Pritchard?
PRITCHARD: Right. Whatever you want. Take a week, take a month. Paid vacation.
SAM: I could take some classes. Maybe get my brokers license.
GARY: I dont see why not. And Im sure Strauss & Associates, theyd pick up the bill. Wouldnt they?
PRITCHARD: Yeah, whatever it takes.
{Sam hands the gun to Gary and starts to leave...}
GARY: Hey, Sam. Get some rest. Hey, Sam! Dont worry about the mail.
PRITCHARD: Oh, leave me alone, Hobson. I promise, I promise Im not gonna marry Marcia. Ill never speak to her again.
GARY: Wrong answer, Pritchard. Now, *youre* gonna get on with *your* life, and *Im* gonna get on with *mine.* But you *will* marry Marcia.
PRITCHARD: I will?
GARY: Youre gonna *promise* me youre gonna marry Marcia, or Im gonna plug ya full of holes.
PRITCHARD: I promise Ill marry her. Now, can you untie me?
GARY: And youre gonna treat her well. Promise!
PRITCHARD: I will, I promise.
GARY: And every day, youre gonna tell yourself that youre the luckiest man alive, cause you dont deserve her, and shes *far* too good for you. Say it!
PRITCHARD: Im the luckiest man alive and I dont deserve her.
GARY: All right.
{Gary unties Pritchard}
PRITCHARD: Thank you. Can you help me up, please? So...I can just go?
GARY: Yeah. Go on. Hey, Pritchard, one more thing. Maybe you should treat your employees with a little bit more respect, huh?
PRITCHARD: Dont you push it, Hobson. I dont need you to tell me how to run a business. That *stupid* mailroom kid, he was just a bad apple.
GARY: Uh-huh.
PRITCHARD: My employees love me.
{Pritchard pushes his car-alarm remote and his car explodes.}
{Scene change: Pritchard and Marcias wedding....with Chuck monologue.}
MONOLOGUE: My good friend, the Dalai Lama, says, that a wise man never feels out of place. Of course, the Dalai Lama never went to his ex-wifes wedding.....
MR ROBERTS: Im so proud. You know, I think I might cry.
{Mrs. Roberts looks wistfully back at Gary, who smiles at her....}
MRS ROBERTS: Me too.
{Phil looks around waiting for Marcia to show up. Gary checks his watch...}
CHUCK: So, shes a little late.
GARY: Marcias never late.
MONOLOGUE: People will surprise you. Every single time. They will.
{Scene change: Pritchard on a lakeside bench...}
MONOLOGUE: Theyre like the weather that way. Theyll change on you. Give you no warning whatsoever.
{Gary approaches and joins Pritchard on bench.}
PRITCHARD: She wasnt right for me. She was getting into it for all the wrong reasons. I should have seen it coming.
GARY: You never see it coming.
PRITCHARD: Still, I guess its better I find out now, rather than three or four years down the road.
GARY: Oh, absolutely.
PRITCHARD: In a way, Im better off. Not as invested.
GARY: Thats right. You get to move on. You get closure.
PRITCHARD: I envy you, though. You had the three or four years.
GARY: Yeah.
PRITCHARD: Did you ever see her dance?
GARY: Oh, yeah. Lots of times. Hey, did she ever take you to that Salsa joint?
PRITCHARD: Yeah, once. I couldnt keep up with her, I wrenched my back.
GARY: Twisted my knee.
PRITCHARD: I really did love her.
GARY: Yeah, I know.
{Gary spies the flower guy from earlier and motions him over.}
MONOLOGUE: But even the experts cant predict the weather.
{Scene change: Garys apartment. He is putting a rose in a jar and sticks himself with a thorn...}
MONOLOGUE: Ask three different experts, you get three different weather reports. Thats why you gotta give people the benefit of the doubt.
{Gary places rose next to the Meridian, contemplates himself in mirror, then looks at his wedding band...}
MONOLOGUE: Because no one, not even a guy who gets tomorrows paper, knows everything thats gonna happen tomorrow.
{Gary removes the wedding band and places it in the nightstand drawer.}
CAT: Mrowrr....
[THE END]
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