Above the Line (2025) Movie Script
1
["Carol of the Bells,"
ominous instrumental]
["Carol of the Bells,"
ominous instrumental]
-[narrator]
Ah, there she is.
Good old Hollywood.
Sold as a land of dreams,
this is a deeply backwards town
for the majority.
Fablers and thespians flock
to the twinkling lights,
where they fight
to make believe,
until a select few rise up
and metastasize
into the gatekeepers themselves.
When some reach new heights,
they withhold a helping hand
and instead spit
on the fellow creatives below.
-[host] Hey everyone, welcome
to Entertainment Evening.
We have lots to unpack
for you tonight,
including a red carpet
altercation...
-[narrator]
But on Christmas Eve,
a sextuplet
of struggling artists
will have their fortunes altered
by an unexpected
and mysterious holiday gift.
[banging on door]
[door creaks open]
[distant dog barking]
-[Dame]
Dear distinguished guest,
you are cordially invited to...
-[Princess] ... a remarkable
and exclusive evening
that will forever
change your life.
[screams]
-[Spaceman]
Enclosed is your golden ticket.
-[Cowboy] And a $1,000 preview
of a fortune to be had.
[laughs]
-[Ghost] Inscribed on the ticket
is your pseudonym,
call time, and address.
You are Ghost.
[phone pings]
["Deck the Halls" on radio]
-[radio DJ] Lastly, there are
three rules for the event.
Don't bring cell phones,
don't discuss
your personal lives
and don't be late.
See you tonight.
-I bet some pretty famous people
Uber up here, yeah?
-They don't ride UberPool.
-[awkward chuckle]
Right. Right.
Right.
Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la!
Hey, what's the craziest thing
you've seen while driving?
Okay, okay, I got one.
[clears throat]
I once saw a pigeon fly out
of a woman's bag.
Now this is a true story.
So I'm sitting up here
in the front seat.
Now, two women
who don't know each other
are sittin' in the back.
Now, grocery bag lady
falls asleep,
and no sooner does she do that
than bang!
A pigeon flies out,
and this guy is flapping,
and he is going crazy.
And the old lady sitting
next to her,
she grabs the pigeon,
snaps the bird's neck
real casual,
and puts it right back
into the grocery bag.
And the craziest part
about this
is grocery lady
never even woke up.
Made me realize
how much we miss
just by closing our eyes.
-Shit...I remember
that monologue
from Leonard Kahn's class.
-What are you talking about?
-Yeah, went there in 2017.
Did the same monologue.
You're good.
You gotta slow it down though.
-Uh-huh. Uh-huh.
On, um, on which part?
[car tires screech]
Thank you for the invitation
to...
Thank you. Thank you.
[foreboding music]
Good day. Thank you so much
for this surprise invitation
to your humble abode.
No one says that.
[doorbell rings]
Hello. Good day.
It's nice to meet you.
It's nice to be
at your sophisticated
and yet humble abode.
-Mm-hm. You're late
and you sound Mormon.
-Yeah. No, no, no.
Sorry.
My--my driver dropped me off
-a little bit down the road.
-Oh!
He doesn't have it.
-Oh no, no.
No, no. I have it.
-[Dame] The card?
-Yeah, I have it.
Yeah, it says--it says--
it says I'm a Hero.
Yeah, yeah, yeah. Oh!
-All right, hold on.
Read the sign.
Wipe your hooves.
-Oh. Yeah.
It's a little tarpy
in here though.
-Yeah, a lot of tarps.
Very American Psycho .
-Whooh. Yeah, I'll say.
-Hey.
-[Hero] Hello, everyone.
-Here. Drink this,
but drink it slowly.
We don't have a lot
of alcohol here.
Okay, guys, this is Hero.
He's late.
Hero, this is everyone.
They've been waiting.
Go ahead,
introduce yourselves.
-My card says I'm a Ghost,
but I'm not a ghost.
-Yeah, no, I'm the spaceman.
-[Hero] Great.
-I was a goat , though,
in a past life in Scotland.
No, but I'm here
in front of you right now.
-Hi. Princess.
-Howdy. Cowboy.
-And I'm the Dame.
-So, uh, you coordinate
this rendezvous?
-No. No, I--I wish.
-[Princess] Well,
this is it then. Us six.
-Oh, and how do you know that?
-There's six chairs.
-[Hero] Right.
Okay, right, that--
yeah, math checks out,
everybody.
Um, so does anybody know
each other, or is-
-No.
-Nope.
-[Dame] Mm-mm.
-No one knows anything,
but clearly this is a game show.
So I just want
to put out right now,
when we do split up into teams,
I just want to let you know
that I'm very lucky.
I'm unusually lucky.
Like, every dog I've ever known
has lived more than 15 years.
Fifteen years! Ha!
That's unheard of.
-I doubt it's a game show.
-Maybe this is a cult thing.
-Honestly, I thought it
was another intervention.
So I've already won.
-You know, they might
be single-filin' us
through that Great Blue Door.
-[Princess] Hmm?
-Uh--
-A Blue Door is a cow's entrance
to a slaughterhouse.
-See, they don't know
where they are
before they get popped
right between the eyes.
[imitates eye popping]
[distant ringing]
-Ah!
Hang on, what is that?
-What is that?
-Come on.
Hey, hey, hey, guys, come on.
Rule number one
on the invite is no cells.
-[Cowboy] You brought your
cell phone with you, didn't you?
-No, you saw me leaving
the apartment.
-Then what's ringing?
Is it in your sock?
-Did you bring your phone?
-It's not my fucking phone!
-I didn't bring my phone.
-Okay, rule number two is don't
talk about your personal lives.
What--what is happening
right now?
-Well, you--you--you did say
the dog thing.
-[Ghost]
But dog's not the same thing.
-Dog is not personal life.
-[Dame] Quiet!
-All right, well,
he's my brother.
-He's always up my ass.
-[indistinct] telling them--
-They would have figured it out
eventually.
I don't know
what you want from me.
-You got to shut your gizzard.
-Jesus Christ.
-Everyone, shut up!
-Listen.
-Shut up!
[device ringing]
-God, it's still sealed.
-Is it in there?
-Oh, wait.
[device ringing]
-What does the card say?
-"Saddle up for a wild night."
[woman vocalizing
"Carol of the Bells"]
-Think someone's supposed
to come in?
-Yeah, right.
Well, you missed your cue.
[chuckles] Saddle up.
Nobody?
Come on, come on.
That was an amateur clue.
Any of you guys could have made
a better clue than that clue.
-Maybe there's something
under one of our chairs.
-Maybe it's like a sexual thing
and we're supposed
to partner off?
[laughter]
-[Dame] Oh, my God.
-What?
-[Cowboy] Fun fact, he actually
took dialect classes
to get rid of his accent,
but he does call
in reservations
as Matthew McConaughey.
-Oh God, why?
-Because this town
is chock-full of smug folk,
and it is my way
of keeping pace.
-[Princess] How clever.
I mean, I just assumed
we're all in the industry.
-[Hero] You're actress?
-Yeah.
But I just dropped my manager,
and I'm actually saving up
for some new headshots, so-
-[Ghost] All right.
I bet I could guess
everybody's jobs.
-[Dame] So,
overconfident producer?
-[Hero] Wait, wait, guys.
I don't think we should be
talking about our lives.
-Okay. So, producer, actress...
-Hm.
-Writer, and...
directing duo.
-Mm. Nope.
-Yeah.
-[Dame]
Who never agree on anything.
-Yeah.
And actor.
-Ha! No.
-Bad actor.
-No, listen, you don't know
anything about me.
-Who has thin skin.
-Okay, fuck off.
-[laughs]
-[clears throat]
Let's figure out what, uh,
saddle up means.
-It doesn't have anything to do
with the chairs.
-The welcome mat!
-Jesus!
-Oh! The welcome mat!
-We're all idiots.
-You want another one of these?
-Yeah, fill her up.
-All right.
-[Hero] The welcome mat.
The welcome mat.
It's the welcome mat.
It's, um--oh, okay.
"Wipe your hooves!"
Oh! Guys, it says
"Getting warmer."
Getting warmer.
Getting warmer.
-Getting warmer.
Oh, they got a barbecue.
Smokehouse out back.
-[murmurs] Warmer.
The sun. The sun.
The solar eclipse?
-Riddles are my nightmare.
-Fireplace.
-[Spaceman]
I was just going to say that.
-The fireplace. Yes.
That's brilliant.
Oh my- That's it.
That's it. Yes.
Um, oh, there's, uh...
there's nothing.
-Look under the logs.
-What?
-Here. Try this.
-You're going to love it.
-Thank God.
-The thingy under the logs.
-No. There's--there's--
there's nothing in-
Holy shit. It's a safe.
-How did you see that?
-[Cowboy] What kind of safe?
[safe beeping]
-[Hero]
Two hours and four minutes.
Guys, it's a safe,
and it's open.
Look, look, look, look, look.
-[Spaceman] Wait, what?
-[Cowboy] Any dinero in there?
-[Dame] What is that note
screenplay thing even say?
-The font's too small.
Give me the logline,
what it says.
-It looks like they'll give us
a shit ton of cash
if we steal five
Best Picture Awards
from some producer.
-More specifically,
"Return the five awards
"to this self-locking safe
by midnight tonight,
"and another hidden safe
will be remotely opened
"containing a life-changing
amount of money.
One million dollars each."
-Holy shit.
-Huh.
-Yeah, I'm gonna go ahead
and say this sounds a little
too good to be true.
[rap music]
-Whooh! I am in!
Come on now.
Only awards I ever got
my hands on
was the Omaha Horror Fest
Audience Award,
so yes, I am in.
-Well, you can be in,
but I'm out.
Ain't no bullwhip
or no crescent moon
that's gonna pull me
into this business.
-Come on.
-Hey, we actually agree
on something.
-Yeah. I mean, [scoffs]
I'm fucking out.
-I'll take my grand--
-Dame, you're kidding me.
and head to Vegas.
Please.
Hero. Princess.
Come on.
-Come on, give me-
-[blows raspberry]
-Really?
You guys, five to one?
We just gonna chicken exit
out of here
and just let me get the six mil
by myself?
-Okay, well, hold on.
Can you read me back the thing?
Start from the top.
-"Exterior mansion,
1400 Kings Road--Night.
We see six struggling
filmmakers--
[glass shatters]
-That's Jack Woodrow's house.
[glass shatters]
-[Cowboy] Jack fucking Woodrow?
-[Spaceman]
Darth Vader of Hollywood.
-Now that is a big bad buck
on our bowstrings,
ladies and gentlemen.
-Hold on. How do you--
how do you know it's his house?
-Yeah, how do you know that?
-I've been there.
-Oh, how--how have you been
to Jack Woodrow's?
-My real passion
is being a caterer.
I just act to pay the bills.
Get the fuck back.
-Are you sure about this?
-Yeah.
-And everyone knows
Jack Woodrow's awards
mean everything to him.
-Everything.
-I'm sorry, I, uh...
who's Jack Woodrow?
[toilet flushes]
[distant birds chirping]
[soft piano music]
-[sighs]
-[Jack] You know,
this is Orson Welles' old house.
-Oh, wow.
It's beautiful.
-The decorations are-
-[Jack] Can't take any credit.
Ex-one bought all of it.
Ex-two rearranged it.
-[soft chuckle]
-Did you practice
your acceptance speech?
In the bathroom?
-Oh, the award. Yeah.
No, I mean- Is it real?
-Oh-hoh-hoh.
Look, you're nervous.
It's okay, I get it.
But stop.
Let's just talk.
Emma and Jack.
We're both filmmakers.
-Okay.
-You like Citizen Kane ?
-Of course.
-You're leaning on the table.
-I'm sorry.
[knock on table]
-One from the archives room
at the beginning.
Hmm?
I used to own the sled, too.
But I gave it to Leo
as a wrap gift.
I'm gonna remake it.
-The sled?
-The movie.
-Right. Yeah.
Remake the perfect movie.
-Almost perfect.
No one's in the room
when he says "Rosebud."
Do you meditate?
-Sometimes.
-Ikea. Adult Legos.
Break for my brain.
Don't have to do anything
except follow instructions.
But, uh, your script
whisked me away.
-That's- wow.
Thank you.
-How did you get it to Mary?
-I knew she was your
longtime assistant,
and I Twitter stalked her.
-[laughs]
Sounds desperate.
-Me and my--my roommate
took shifts.
-Ah, ah, ah.
Tell me about you.
-Well, my script,
Self-Made Woman ,
is sort of autobiographical.
-So you sculpt like
the main character?
-No. I-
-Ah, so you're unconfident
in your artistic abilities,
and you haven't yet stood up
to the lover
who broke your heart?
-I meant more of
the East Coast upbringing.
-[laughs] Ah.
We're finished.
Let's break some stuff.
Safety first.
Take the first whack.
-A...Are you sure?
-Oh, I'm sure.
-Okay.
[strains]
-You can do better than that.
That's all you got?
Come on, let it out.
-[strains hard]
-There we go.
That's what I'm talking about.
Come on.
-[strains hard]
Whoa, it feels good!
-You're a natural.
-[chuckles]
-Let me show you how it's done.
[strains hard, laughs]
Mary will set up
agency meetings.
They'll negotiate
your end of the deal.
-This was incredible.
Thank you so much.
-Emma...
speak up when you know
you're right.
This town will carve you up
if you don't defend yourself.
-Okay, I will.
His assistant never called.
I never got in with an agent.
Jack blocked
all of my pitch meetings,
and then two years later,
he won his fifth
Best Picture Award.
-For Self-Made Woman.
-Did you sue him?
-I tried, but he's pretty
freaking powerful
and pretty freaking famous,
which makes me wonder,
how do you not know who he is?
-Okay. Okay, yes.
How the hell would I not know
who this guy is?
Okay, I'm just trying not
to reveal
that much about myself.
I mean, you guys don't know
how much money I have,
how many cars I drive,
who I know.
-Your tag's hanging out.
-Hero, it says everyone
must participate
or the plan will fail.
-Okay. Okay, but can't I ask
some questions?
I mean, can't I try to poke
some holes in this?
Like--like this guy
who's supposed to pay us,
I mean, what's their motivation?
-I mean, it has to be someone
with a well of hatred
for Jack that's as deep
as their pockets.
-Like a bitter
independent financier?
-It's six million in cash.
-So a bitter studio exec.
-More like Studio Head.
-Everybody gets
a damn code name.
-Right, right.
And the so-called Studio Head,
they expect us to rob
a Bel Air mansion
with a map of the house,
some directions,
and those ratchety things?
-All right, look.
I don't know any of you.
So I'm gonna be
raw-dogging this heist
with a bunch of strangers.
But this "Studio Head"
didn't invite us here
because we're on movie posters
or fucking Fallon .
No, we got invited here
because Hollywood fucked us.
So let's fuck it back.
-Hell yeah.
[dramatic music]
-Oh, God.
Guys...Guys, it's robbery.
-Yeah.
Here's to being millionaires.
-Midnight is the deadline.
The garage is this way.
Let's roll.
-[Dame] I'm driving.
-[Ghost] Come on. Let's move.
-[Cowboy] Let's giddyup.
-Hero. Come on.
This could change your life.
-Yeah. Not like this.
-What?
Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey!
Hey, where are you going?
We need you.
Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey.
Come back!
You're supposed to be the hero.
He just runs away!
[exhales]
[car engine starts]
So he ran away.
-Why the hell
didn't you stop him?
-He's gonna go to the cops.
-No, he won't.
-He needs the money.
-Great.
If you don't think he'll rat,
then get in the fucking van.
-No! No!
-Come on,
we got less than two hours.
-No! No, no.
We are not going.
The Studio Head's plan
states six people,
and I have to be
the distraction outside.
-Well, then we'll have
four people
trying to steal five awards.
-No, it's easy.
Someone'll just have
to cut dirt and snatch two.
-[Ghost] No, no, we can't.
The house is too big.
-[Cowboy] But we've got
all this kick-ass heist gear.
-Well, if the place is too big
and we don't have enough people,
-then how are we even gonna-
-Stop!
I did UCB for a few months.
-What is that?
-Improv school.
I was pretty good.
After I take the first award,
I'll improvise a way
to take the second.
-Well, we're fucked.
-[sighs] Princess?
[car engine revs]
-[whispers] Fuck. So stupid.
-Saddle up.
Oh, we do it live
Drinking [indistinct]
with my boutique
Already too much time
with my mama
Made chicken [indistinct]
Something about this women
[indistinct]
I'm fucking
with my [indistinct]
Welcome to the big leagues
Party all night, gonna
show up on the big screen
We get the job done
[indistinct]
Yeah, you don't qualify
for Lebron
We don't stand in line
[music stops]
Oh, magnetic little doohickeys.
How fun is that?
Big leagues
Party all night, gonna
show up on the big screen
We get the job done
[indistinct]
Yeah, you don't qualify
for Lebron
We don't stand in line
Welcome to the big leagues,
gotta be dressed clean
[indistinct] big screen
[indistinct]
I was on my end scene
[birds chirping]
-[man] Mr. Woodrow?
-Boomer?
-[man] Mr. Woodrow, you here?
-Boomer?!
-[man] Mr. Woodrow?
-God damn it!
[indistinct] fucking assistants
does it take
to answer the goddamn door?
-[man] Mr. Woodrow?
-This better be fucking good.
This better be fucking great!
Ten frickin' minutes to myself.
-Mr. Woodrow!
Hey, man!
-What the fuck!
-[Ghost] Wow.
Love the robe.
I'm your two o'clock.
Ben Donaldson.
Film producer.
Like you.
-My office assistant,
Boomer, set this up?
-Listen, I had to pinch myself
when I got the call.
[laughs]
-Well, he's fired.
-Oh.
-What the hell are you doing
with your upper torso
in my living room
and your ass souring
Helen Hunt's view
from her back porch?
-Oh yeah,
she's your neighbor? Wow.
-Heidi/Dawn!
-[Heidi/Dawn] Si?
[gasps]
-I know, right?
Heidi/Dawn, this is an intruder
and probably registered
sex offender,
and he has a movie he wants
to pitch me, I'm sure.
-True. The movie, uh,
not the sex offender part, Dawn.
-Intruder, this is Heidi,
or Dawn, my weekend maid.
-It's Monday, I'm Dawn.
-Can you grab the cordless
and dial 9-1?
We're gonna let the intruder
pitch his movie,
and if you get bored,
hit the last 1.
-We'll have him arrested.
-No, no, that's not-
-If I get bored, I'll shoot him.
-Whoa, whoa, wait.
-Go!
-Oh no, whoa, no, whoa, no!
-No, that's not-
-I'm drifting off.
-Giant flying jellyfish
over Japan!
-Well, that was just a random
assortment of nouns.
-It's the next great
scary genre.
We can make six movies minimum.
Vampires, aliens,
zombies, ghosts-
they're all played out,
Mr. Woodrow.
The genre needs
some fresh ideas.
-And this,
this Mad Libs pitch of yours
is the new horror staple?
-Giant flying jellyfish
over Japan are real.
[laughter]
-You certainly have
an entertaining
amount of conviction.
-Well, thank you.
Look, Mr. Woodrow,
I'm a huge fan, okay?
I know all of the legends
about you.
The--the Twister rap party.
-Oh yeah, yeah.
That's, that's why Helen
moved next door.
-Okay, uh,
the assistant graveyard.
-Graveyard's a strong word,
but we added a headstone today.
-Ah, Boomer.
Um, your Fridge Scripts.
-What's this one?
-The Fridge Script.
It's the next
Best Picture winner
that you're gonna greenlight.
Yeah.
You keep it in there on ice,
so to speak,
and then you save it
until you think it's gonna be
a weak awards season,
and then boom.
You whip it out, you make it.
That's how you got both
of your Best Picture awards.
-[chuckles] That's a
very creative wives' tale.
Completely false.
[bottles clink]
No script.
A lot happens
between green-lighting a script
and winning Best Picture.
-Yeah, but you make it all
not even matter
because of the way
you campaign.
-Could I campaign an award
out of the jellyfish thing?
[foreboding music]
-You could make a lot of money.
-Yeah.
-Mm-hm.
Get an even bigger house.
[foreboding music continues]
-It's great to meet you.
My office will be in touch.
-[Cowboy] So he stuck
a six-shooter in your face
and annexed the bee
in your bonnet?
Just like Princess.
-He bought it right then
and there.
-[Spaceman] Fucked on the terms?
-[Ghost] Tremendously.
And guys, really, like,
read your contract
before you sign it, okay?
And--and look up
the big words.
[blows smoke]
All right, let's get
to our spots.
-How many of those stupid movies
are there now?
[buttons beeping]
-[cackling]
Oh, Mr. Clooney,
you got your Jesus holidays
mixed up.
The bunny one comes in April.
-I got eyes
on that skeezy dinosaur.
Action, boys.
[socket wrenches thumping]
-God damn it.
-Very funny little prank,
George,
but, uh, bunny's going
to have to freeze tonight,
'cause I'm not fucking throwing
out my back picking it up--
Jesus, fuck!
You're in the rabbit, George?
Wow.
-[Spaceman] Spaceman in.
-Ghost attempting entry.
-Cowboy in.
Well, I'll be.
-Damn.
-Hello, pretty little lady.
[awards music on speaker]
What the...?
-Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!
-What the shit is that?
-Is that awards music?
-Shit, shit, shit,
shit, shit, shit!
-Bro, what the fuck did you do?
-Guys, what the fuck
is going on up there?
-[laughs]
-Ghost is struggling,
but persevering.
[music stops]
-[chuckles] Thank you,
sweet baby Jesus
and Indiana Jones.
-Ghost has entered the building.
Ah! Say hello to Daddy.
Ghost clear.
-Spaceman out.
-Cowboy clear.
-Dame's got the first one.
Heading to Jack's bedroom
for the second.
-[Cowboy] Gotta whip up
another minute, Princess.
-Hey, George.
You coming in for a drink?
-I'm not George,
you naughty boy.
-Oh! Mrs. Clooney.
-[woman] One second, Jack.
[eerie music]
-[sniffing]
[gentle piano music]
-[Jack] Stop!
What the hell are you wearing?
-Just something fun.
-Looks more desperate
than seductive.
What role are you after?
-Ian Somerhalder's girlfriend
in this new episode of--
-A guest star?
A TV fucking guest star?
You only get to take me
on your merry-go-round
so many times before I get sick
of your saddle.
-[chuckles]
Come on.
We're just having
some fun, right?
-This is a transaction.
-I thought
we actually connected.
-Fuck.
[sighs]
Carry yourself
with a little more confidence.
Open your eyes to the situation
and come to the table
with a little creativity.
What is that?
Is that from Target?
[slap thrown]
[laughs]
Whooh, such raw intensity.
I feel like I'm in Teen Wolf.
[laughs]
[slaps hard]
[foreboding music]
[cigarette sizzles]
-[coughs]
-Don't waste your energy
trying to draw a lawsuit.
And please,
get the fuck out of my house.
-No, no.
-[Jack] I'm serious.
You're uninspiring.
You're not talented enough
to even waste a Viagra on.
Get out.
Every second
you're in my house
is a year I make sure
you don't book another role.
One, two,
three, four,
five.
Say goodbye to your 20s.
Six...
Don't forget your shit.
Seven, eight, nine...
ten.
-[scoffs] What the fuck
is wrong with you?
-Toodle-oo.
[cigarette sizzles]
[door creaks open]
-[singing] Jingle bells,
jingle bells,
jingle all the way.
Oh, what fun it is to...
-Go home.
-How old are you?
-[Spaceman] You okay on time
out there, Princess?
-Negative.
-Let's see who's really
in there.
[suspenseful music]
Clooney wouldn't waste
his fucking time
on this Mickey Mouse nonsense.
-Wait, Mr. Woodrow!
-[Jack] Not tonight.
-Everyone, get out.
Now!
-I'm out of the barn.
-Ghost fucking crushed it.
-[straining] Shit.
[buttons beeping]
-[alarm voice]
Bathroom window open.
- Dame, what's going on?
Jack's fucking inside.
-I'll hightail it
and check in on her.
-Oh, son of a bitch.
I'm stuck!
[distant thud]
[suspenseful music continues]
Ugh! Come on!
[buttons beeping]
Come on.
I'm out!
-[alarm voice]
Timed alarm activated.
-Babe?
-[Princess] Dame,
where the hell are you?
-Babe?
-Something's not right.
I'm heading back in.
-Oh, Christ.
[sighs]
Come here. Come on.
[strains]
Bathroom tile can be scrubbed.
[body thuds]
We got business, motherfucker?
-[screaming]
-Jesus!
[straining]
[glass shatters]
-[strains]
-[Jack grunts]
[somber music]
-[woman] Five-oh gonna do
shit about this?
-Barbara was shot at noon.
We can expect a retaliation
by six o'clock, but then-
-[Jack] Thank you.
We've seen enough.
-Oh, no, no.
Um, there's-
there's- there's-
there's more to the scene.
Uh, do you have any notes?
I can- I can try it again.
-I can see you're trying
to get a job.
-What?
-Thank you for coming here.
-No, no, no, no, no, no, no.
It's okay.
I'm...I'm gonna do it again.
Come on. Okay.
Um, a retribution by, uh,
six o'clock.
Um, a retaliation
by six o'clock.
We should be expecting one--
we should be expect-
Goddamn it!
Come on.
Come on, man. Why?
Why did you interrupt me?
Why did you do that?
I mean, why can't people
in this town
just have some respect?
Why can't you be good
fucking people?
[glass shatters]
-Who's next?
[distant car honks]
[trophy clanks]
-[Ghost] Success.
-[Dame] Don't worry,
the cameras are off.
He shuts them all down
with an app on his phone
whenever a girl
comes over alone.
-So whoever set this up
must have known that then, huh?
-Don't look at me.
-You're suspect.
-Oh! Oh, oh, oh.
Damn. No Fridge Script.
-[Princess] Here, lean her back
so she doesn't throw up
on herself.
Okay, good.
-Wait.
Is she one of the cops on SVU ?
-What? No.
I don't... Chicago Fire , maybe.
-Mm. I've never seen it.
Outer Banks .
-You watch Outer Banks ?
-It's a really good show.
-Clock's ticking.
Is he still out?
-I don't know, but he looks
annoyingly comfortable.
-Just looked around.
She's right.
All the cameras are off.
-Yeah, but he saw my face.
-[Jack] I saw crow's feet.
-[scoffs]
-The bird tracks
weren't fresh either.
Means we had a night,
what, maybe ten years ago?
-Hey! I will fucking kill you!
-Tell me your name first.
[slap]
-Oh, damn.
-Oh, boy.
-I'm gonna need more than
just your initials.
- Riverdale?
-No. We weren't supposed
to bring those.
[security device alarming]
He had a fucking silent alarm?
-Yeah, rooster's crowing
pretty loud to me.
[phone ringing]
-Hello, security company.
-They need me to say a password.
-[Dame] Oh, shit.
-Shit, just leave them.
-No, he's seen my face.
-Well, if we don't answer
that phone call,
sheriffs are on their giddyup
towards us.
-Yeah, and if we answer,
he's not gonna say
the right password.
-We are not leaving.
He's gonna remember me.
-Go hide out or something.
-No, I'm not giving up
my fucking career.
-What fucking career?
-Okay. That's it.
Get out of my way.
-Whoa. No, no, no, no.
Dame, don't do that.
No, no, no.
Don't do that.
-Ho-ho-ho,
you fucking idiots.
-Just settle down.
Well, new plan.
[gun cocks]
-What the fuck, man?
-Wait, stop.
-No.
-Think about this.
-Oh, I'm thinking about it.
-Why'd you bring a gun?
-Why'd I bring--?
Some guy you don't know pays
you to go to a strange house
in LA, wouldn't you pack?
-I was and I didn't!
-Well, I did.
Give me that.
-Look at me, Jack.
-Who the fuck are you?
Doggy door guy?
-Donaldson.
Ben Donaldson.
-The jellyfish movies
are still going strong.
-Oh, I know.
Say the password.
-It's actually "jellyfish."
[slams table]
-Yeah. Oh, yeah? Okay.
-[AIT Security] AIT Security.
Am I speaking
with Mr. Woodrow?
Hold the line, please.
Jack, say the password.
Let these people go.
They're good people.
You know what?
Forget about them.
You saw my face.
You know me.
I made you lots
and lots of money,
and you can find me,
and you will.
And I'm gonna take credit
for this whole mess.
My idea. My execution.
I acted alone.
-[AIT Security]
Mr. Woodrow, are you there?
-This is Jack Woodrow.
-[AIT Security]
What's your password, sir?
[suspenseful music]
-Rosebud.
-[AIT Security]
Thank you, Mr. Woodrow,
and happy holidays.
[phone beeps]
-You made the right choice,
Jack.
My office will be in touch.
[gun thumps]
[upbeat action music]
-Fucking idiots.
-We gotta go.
-All right.
[car revs]
-[choking]
-[Officer Hastings]
All right, you're living up
to the stereotype, Dalt.
-[laughs]
Listen, they've got
the softest TP
in any public restroom
north of the 10.
-Which China Donuts is this?
-Oh, a true gentleman doesn't
shit and tell, Hastings.
-Typical.
You know, you LA cops
are just like the rest
of the people out here.
Always looking out
for yourselves.
Where's the loyalty?
-Enjoy your Christmas Eve,
Hastings.
And when that liquid laxative
kicks in,
try not to get a rash
with that bush-league TP.
-That's just really
fucking criminal, Dal.
Come on, come on.
Which one is it?
-Yeah, yeah. You're breaking up.
You're breaking up, Hastings.
Sorry, losing you.
-[Officer Hastings]
Nice try, Dal.
Oh my God, you are smart.
-Hm.
-[911 Dispatcher] Car 127,
car 127 -- we have a 459A
at Beverly Hills,
address is 1400 Kings Road.
-Great. On it.
-[911 Dispatcher]
Just a burglar alarm.
Dispatch wants a Girl Scout
to go knock on the door.
You're in the area.
-I'll see if he wants
any Thin Mints.
-[911 Dispatcher]
Merry Christmas, 127.
-Merry Christmas, Maureen.
[siren wails]
["Deck the Halls"]
Oh boy.
Deck the halls
with boughs of holly
Fa-la-la-la-la,
it's Christmas time
'Tis the season
to be jolly
Fa-la-la-la-la,
it's Christmas time
[car tires screeching]
[car honking]
-[Cowboy] Damn it!
What was that?
What the fuck just happened?
-Shit! Oh, God.
-[Ghost]
Where the hell are they...
where the hell
are they going?
-[Dame] Hey, where the hell
are you going?
The van's stuck.
We need to leave.
-He's not dead.
-I don't give a fuck.
-Well, we can't just leave him
here like this.
-Hey, come on,
we got to get out.
Come on, go, go, go, go, go!
Tick-tock, motherfuckers.
-[Officer Dalton grunts]
-It's almost midnight.
-[Officer Dalton groans]
-[Dame] Come on, come on!
-Hey! Hey! Hey!
Stop! Freeze!
LAPD! Oh!
Ground on the hands!
-Oh God.
-Get on the ground, ma'am!
Get on the ground!
-Okay, okay. I am.
-[Dame] Jesus.
-Ma'am, get on the ground!
-Okay. [chuckles]
-I'm barely over 30.
-Ma'am!
-How about you quit it
with the ma'am shit?
I'm going. I'm going!
You got bitch wrists.
I can see them from here.
-[Princess] Dame, shut up!
-What about our rights?
-Okay, ma'am,
we don't need to read you
your Miranda rights
unless you're being questioned.
They just do it every week
on The Rookie.
-I fucking crushed a self-tape
for that show.
-Okay, a little help here,
please.
Thank you.
Okay, here we go.
Easy does it.
Everything's gonna
be just fine.
All right, and you in here.
Okay, head in.
Yep. Okay.
How many people in the back
of the van, ma'am?
-Okay, now you're
questioning me?
-I'm gonna need an answer.
-[indistinct chatter]
Whoa, whoa, whoa,
whoa, whoa, whoa.
-LAPD! Get out of the van!
-[indistinct chatter]
[gunfire]
Oh!
-[Dame] Oh!
-[Princess] Guys.
-[screams]
Guys, what the hell was that?
-[Princess] Guys!
-[Dame gasps]
-Oh, shit.
-Okay.
-Hey, man.
-[Officer Dalton] We cool?
-We're totally cool.
-[Officer Dalton]
Come out with your hands up.
Nice and slow.
-Super slow.
-[Officer Dalton] Nice and slow.
-Let's go. Let's go.
-[Officer Dalton]
That's not slow-
-hey, come back here.
-Come on.
-What the shit happened
in there?
-Drive safely
and I'll tell you [indistinct]
-[Dalton] You're under arrest!
-Okay, okay.
How the fuck do I drive this
with an airbag?
Why are you covered in blood?
-Hey, hey, hey!
-[Ghost] Let's go!
-Okay, okay.
-[Princes]
What about the brothers?
-[Dame] Fuck the brothers!
-[Ghost] And that's a curb.
-No, no, no, no!
Not again.
[playful music]
Hah!
[quirky music]
This is not good.
-You fucking idiots.
Stop the car.
Please stop the car.
-Your makeup's running, hun.
Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la
-Yeah, you might--you might
wanna slow down over here.
Just a little bit.
-It's fine.
-[Ghost]
Red light, red light.
Hey, that's a red light.
[car tires screech]
-[screams]
-[Ghost] Unbelievable.
-You got blood
on the fucking dash!
-You drove like a moron!
-Just shut up and get the vodka!
-Why, why, why?
-Okay, okay, okay.
-Why, why, why the fuck
did you steal the car?
-We got this.
-No, we don't.
-Okay, you need to get
your shit together, sister!
And you! What the fuck?
You need to get
your shit together.
-No, no, you need to get
your shit together.
-My shit is together.
Clean the fucking car.
-Goddamn it.
-[Princess] All right,
let's wrap this up.
We have four minutes
till midnight,
and this safe
automatically locks,
and these have to be in there.
-Oh, we--we just close one door
and blindly assume another's
gonna open?
-But that's
what the instructions say.
-Come on.
-No.
-This is our leverage.
-What?
-I am taking these [indistinct]
the fucking safe.
-No, no.
That's how we get paid.
-You still think
we're getting paid?
Please. I'm keeping these.
-What are you gonna do?
Auction them on Deadline?
-Okay, what are you,
like a fresh transplant
or something?
-Hey, I have six years in LA.
-Okay, so you haven't been here
since you were a teenager.
You didn't get knocked up,
you didn't raise a kid here.
-You're a parent?
-Wow. [scoffs]
-I'm--that...
-Wow.
-was not meant to be an insult.
-Well, it felt like one.
-It wasn't meant to be.
-Okay.
-You know what,
I may have crossed a line.
-That monster, he saw my face.
Everything is gonna get
fucked up for me now.
Everything is gonna change.
And we put our only
bargaining chip in the safe,
and then it's out
of our fucking hands.
-We're fucked.
-Okay.
We robbed a house.
We stole a cop car,
thanks to you.
-Okay.
-And now we have three minutes
to fucking deliver.
So can you just quit it
with the fucking
broken actress sob story
and finish the job?
Please.
-Okay. God.
-Thank you.
[safe beeping]
-[Princess] [gasps]
What the hell is this?
-Is this a fucking joke?
-[Dame] Where are the awards?
-Ghost.
-That trout fucker!
Where'd you go,
you creepy sack of shit?
-Two minutes
till the safe locks.
Ghost!
-Ghost! Shit! Fucker!
[safe beeping]
-Ghost!
-Hey, what's up?
-[screams]
-Ow! What the shit?
Stop that, please!
What the hell?
What-- What are you guys doing?
-The bag!
The bag is filled
with garden gnomes,
you fucking dickhole!
-What the fuck happened
to the awards?
-What--awards?
Where did you get the gnomes?
-Why are we talking
about gnomes?
I went to the neighbor's house
to use the garden hose.
-Oh, so you were in a yard.
-The bag! There was a bag
that had trophies in it,
and now there are no trophies,
there are gnomes!
-You punched me in my face,
you're rambling on about gnomes.
Imagine if you were me
in this scenario.
[safe beeping]
-Yes. No, he's right.
He didn't switch them.
He would've ran.
-Thank you!
-Cowboy and Spaceman!
-Jack saw the stars align
with your film.
Subdued pageantry.
Unwavering vision.
He adored it.
-We're just happy Mr. Woodrow's
taking a leap on this, truly.
-Why, of course.
-Certainly, it's not exactly
in Jack's wheelhouse, you know.
Grounded sci-fi, that is.
-Well, I've been
Jack's assistant
for a long time,
and I can attest
he's immeasurably appreciative
that you chose him.
-Well, I gotta say,
we were definitely the hot pony
of the parade.
-Yeah, Sam Hartfeld,
he plumped us
with a 62-ounce porter,
hoping we'd sell with him.
Sam is sci-fi royalty.
-Yes.
-But, uh, we are just truly
so, so very excited
to be working
with Mr. Woodrow, ma'am.
And with yourself.
Come here.
-Oh, oh.
Okay, that's enough.
We're all excited.
-Now, Mary, don't tell Jack,
but we got him some Salt Lake
Bar-B-Q sauce,
and we're gonna give it to him
at the end gala tonight.
-Jack flew back
to LA last night.
-S--uh, sorry, Jack wasn't
planning on being here?
-The following statements
about to be said
in this Austin Embassy Suites
on March 13th
are not to ever,
ever be repeated.
-You're kind of-
you're dancing around
the barrel race here, Mary.
-Jack bought your movie
to spite Sam Hartfeld.
-What?
-It will never,
as long as Jack's alive,
be seen by anyone.
-Oh, what about all that
flannel mouthin'
about eating sushi
at the premiere?
I mean, we talked about that.
-Your film is the movie
Sam could have
ostensibly catapulted
into an awards contender.
Jack knew that.
Jack resented that,
so he bought it.
But Jack already has his horse
in the Best Picture race
this year.
-Give us the
fucking briefcase, Mary.
-Just take solace in the fact
you're not the first.
-Oh, fuck not the first, Mary!
-Give us the contract now, Mary.
-Oh, Jesus, bitch!
I'm gonna-[grunting]
Ah, fuck! God!
-Sorry.
-[Spaceman] Stop it! That hurts!
-You can't pepper spray people
like that, you fucking psycho!
-[indistinct] you're such
a fucking idiot!
Oh, goddamn it!
-We gotta get a lawyer.
-Oh, fuck.
We worked on this
for five fucking years, man.
-I'm sorry, partner.
-I can't believe this shit.
We used everything
Dad left us.
-I will make this up to you.
Somehow.
-[Dame] Thirty minutes
until we're millionaires,
ladies and gentlemen.
-This is top five of my top five
Christmas Eves ever.
-Really?
-Yeah.
-Did you have
a difficult childhood?
-[Ghost] No.
[car tires screech]
-Whoa, whoa, whoa.
-[Princess] Dame, slow down.
-Slow down!
-Take it easy, Dame.
-[Princess]
Holy shit, [indistinct]
-[Dame] Stop backseat driving!
-[Cowboy] Dang it!
[car honking]
-[Dame] Fucking pigs!
-What the hell was that?
-What was that?
-[Cowboy] Ow.
-[Ghost] What the hell?
Damn it!
[car honking]
Where the hell are they--?
Where the hell are they going?
-[Dame] Hey, the van's stuck!
-We need to leave!
-We're stuck?
What do you mean we're stuck?
-[Dame] We got to go!
Get out! Tick-tock,
motherfuckers!
-[Officer Dalton]
Get on the ground, ma'am!
-[Dame] I'm barely over thirty!
-It's the fucking cops.
-Shut the fuck up!
-[Dalton] How many people in
the back of the van, ma'am?
-Uh-uh. Hell no.
Not on Christmas Eve,
motherfuckers.
-Put it the fuck away!
-What are you doing?
-I'm telling you to shut up!
-[Officer Dalton]
Whoa, whoa. LAPD!
-No, no, no, no!
-[Dalton] Get out of the van!
-What are you doing?
What are you doing?
-Get down, man!
-Stop it!
[gunshot]
My bad.
You okay?
-I'm gonna kill you.
-[groans] No, listen.
No. Listen.
It doesn't have
to be like that.
Don't--stop.
-[Cowboy screaming in pain]
-It doesn't have
to be like that.
-You shot me!
-It was an accident.
Complete accident
that your brother did.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
You okay? You okay?
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.
-Oh shit.
There's so much blood.
-It's fine.
-[gags] Oh God.
-But a little plump.
-Oh God.
Do you think I was shot?
Did I get shot too?
-No. Ghost took the duffel bag.
-Can you walk?
-Yeah.
-Let's go.
One, two, three.
-[grunts]
-[Officer Dalton]
You're under arrest!
-Other side.
-[Cowboy] What about the money?
-[Spaceman] Screw the money.
We'll never make it back
in time.
[Spaceman] Fuck.
[long beeping]
-Shit, the safe!
-Freeze! Freeze!
-Hey, hey, hey.
-Whoa, whoa, whoa.
-Get on the fucking ground!
Right now!
-Okay.
This Christmas sucks.
-Answer this
next question right,
and we could
all come out winners.
What did you take
from Jack Woodrow's?
-We're not talking
until we get a lawyer.
-We took his awards.
-[Dame] Hey, shut the fuck up.
-Best Pictures?
-[Ghost] That's right, buddy.
All five of them.
It was impressive, right?
-Tell me more.
-Lawyer!
-Okay, this is off the record.
-[Princess] Take a drink.
-Excuse me?
-A statement is inadmissible
in LA County
if the police officer
has traces of alcohol
after interrogation.
-No shit?
-What are you, a lawyer?
-A well-researched screenwriter.
-Two years AA.
Not gonna happen.
-Oh, congratulations.
-That's amazing.
-Thank you.
-I hear they give you back rubs
and blowjobs after three.
-Oh, aren't you clever.
-Just give us a fucking lawyer,
asshole.
Come on.
What? Oh no.
No, no, no.
-See that?
Now see what you did?
-[Princess] What is he doing?
-[Ghost] No, no, no.
Hey, two years, man.
Don't, don't, don't.
Don't. Goddamn it.
Dame just drop kicked him
off the wagon.
-Oh damn, I forgot
how good that was.
Jack's awards go.
-Wow, what did he do to you?
-Jack Woodrow made
my favorite movie,
Self-Made Woman .
-Hey.
-Bravo, Princess.
-[Officer Dalton]
So where's the award?
Give me the Self-Made one,
and I will let you go.
-He's like a bona fide fanboy.
-Yeah, this girl wrote
that movie.
-[Officer Dalton]
No, I don't think so.
Jack Woodrow's sister
with Tourette's did.
-Jack's got a sister?
-Oh, she was so brave
doing her acceptance speech.
-Fuck that cunt
swap bitch licker.
-Okay then.
-[Ghost]
I think she has Tourette's.
-I don't have Tourette's.
-Hm.
-[scoffs]
You sly little slut.
-[Princess] What?
-[Dame] Yeah.
Oh my God,
you're the Studio Head.
You have the awards.
Oh my God.
-[Princess] What?
-Yeah. I see it now.
You hate Jack
even more than I do.
-You.
-I don't.
We were supposed to put them
in the safe.
-Oh, what's that we're talking
about here?
-Is he still drinking?
-Somehow Ghost knew about,
even though he was halfway
across the room.
-Uh, excuse me, I have no clue
what she's talking about,
Your Honor.
-[Princess] Uh, you know exactly
what I'm talking about.
-No, I don't.
-Yes, when he was making
your drink over there.
-Yeah.
-He told Hero to look
under the logs.
-Yeah.
-How could you see it
from all the way over there?
-Shit. How did you see the safe
from all the way over there?
-Wait, wait, wait.
Let's stop this, okay?
How the hell am I the one
that's being stared at
from the back of your heads
over here?
-You set us up.
-I didn't set anybody up,
Princess.
Dame is the one that wanted
to kill him.
Dame set this whole thing up.
-Not everybody
has fucking royalties
from the Jellyfish franchise.
-I didn't get back end.
-[Princess]
So you did set this up?
-[Ghost]
I didn't set anybody up.
Listen, I did check every nook
and cranny in this motherfucker
to make sure that there
were no CIA bugs,
and that's how I found out
that the safe
was under the logs, Princess.
-[Dame sighs]
-So I have nothing else to say.
-[exhaling]
-Right. Okay, fuck it.
You know, my money, my guess.
You want to know?
You really want to know?
Hero is a tremendously
guilty character, okay?
I mean, really, where's he been
this whole night?
Case closed, Your Honor.
-I'm sorry, who's Hero?
-Well, someone has the awards.
-Hm.
And who would that someone be?
-[Princess]
Ghost, playing stupid.
-Or the brothers took them.
-Okay, I'm so sorry.
Could we just back up?
Who are the brothers?
-[snoring]
-[Spaceman] Tracy!
-Fuck! God!
-[Spaceman] Hey, Tracy!
-The fuck, man?
-Hey, T.
T, we need your help, man.
-What the hell?
Hey, my snacks!
What the hell is going on?
-Why are you bleeding?
-Oh, fuck. Oh shit.
-I took a lead plumb
while clipping a bandit's horns.
-You know what the fuck
he's talking about?
-Yeah, no, he got shot
during a heist.
-A heist?
-Yeah.
It's a long story.
Hey, do you know how
to remove a bullet?
-I'm not that kind of doctor.
I'm a podiatrist.
-Well, everyone we know
in the city's in movies.
-Okay, so you come
to the Muggle's house.
-Please, please, T.
Come on, help us out.
Look at it. Please?
Okay, come on.
-Okay, first of all,
how are we supposed
to play pickleball on Friday?
You know what?
All right, guys, all of this
is not fucking cool, all right?
I'm a little stoned right now.
I work on feet, all right?
I don't know how to remove
a fucking bullet.
-You want any of this?
-Yeah, please.
Thank you.
-Oh, shit.
-Well, let's learn
from the best.
-I never know what the fuck
he's talking about, man.
-Oh, this time I don't know.
I don't--
- ICU Blues, man.
-Oh, [indistinct].
So good.
-[coughs]
-[Tracy] Oh yeah.
Give me that.
Give me that shit.
-[coughs]
[heart monitor beeping]
-We need distal control
of this artery
or she'll flatline.
-Holy sakes alive.
That's--that's the fancy lady
from JW's house.
ICU Blues ,
that's the show she's on.
-[sighs]
It's in God's hands now.
-Rewind, rewind, rewind.
Let me see that again.
- [man] I just didn't want
to have to tell him.
-Pause it, pause it, pause it.
All right.
Logan, give me the tweezers.
-Tweezers?
-[Tracy] Yeah.
-Tweezers.
-Hey, uh, hey, T,
I gotta ask you a question, pal.
You think this is gonna put
a hitch in my giddyup?
-Well, the bus driver
did have a cane
at the end of the episode,
but it didn't look permanent.
All right.
-Tweezers.
-Okay.
All right, good.
All right.
Here we go.
-[groaning] Before you get
after this business now,
I want a pour of that whiskey,
please and thank you.
-Yeah, that's a good idea.
I'm going to need
to drink this too.
Ah. All right.
All right.
On three, baby.
-Good. On three.
-Here we go.
-[Tracy] Three.
-Uh-huh.
-Three...
two...
one.
-[grunting]
Shit! Oh, God!
-[Tracy] I can feel it.
I can feel it.
-[gags]
-[Cowboy grunting]
I hate you, T.
I hate you.
[laughter]
-[Cowboy] Look at you.
-[Tracy] Yeah.
This is over between us
- The head trauma
your wife endured
still could have happened
even if you were
in opposite seats
when the tandem bike crashed.
Her coma is not your mistake.
- I can't lose her.
- It's gonna be okay.
It's gonna be okay.
-He choked the toilet.
-Fucking rat!
-You know what?
Guys, I still
do not want to know
where or who you were
screwing with tonight.
I just got one question.
Who's gonna give you
a fucking million dollars?
-Good question.
See, we branded them.
-They're Studio Head.
-What?
-Yeah, the Studio Head gave us
a grand just to show our faces.
-[Cowboy] Mm-hm.
-That's just a grand.
-Yeah, but a grand each.
-Huh. Yeah.
-[laughing]
-You know, we, did rob a house.
Never took anything
for ourselves.
-Yeah, but we took the trophies.
-Yeah, we don't have them.
I mean, we should go back
and nab other goods.
-No! No, we're not going back.
-Yeah.
-Hell, yeah.
-Yeah huh.
-What?
-Yeah huh. Yes. Yes, we are.
Non-negotiable, man.
This is my chance to make up
South Best to you.
This is our real shot
at getting our contract back.
-[grunting] Fuck!
-We could take that
Fridge Script
that you ramble on about.
We could take the art.
-We could take--
-No. Hey, hey.
There's nothing in the fridge.
I checked, okay?
-Take the fridge.
-Well, then the art.
-Take the whole fridge.
-The painting, man.
Fuck the script, man.
I don't care about the script.
I want the movie, man.
I want our movie.
-What has gotten into you?
-A goddamn 38, brother.
I got shot.
- She woke up from the coma.
-You can take my car.
After you unclog my toilet.
Nasty motherfucker.
-Brother, the timing
of your bowels
is crazier than [indistinct].
I'll tell you what,
we got a lot of shut
before JW busts out of them
lovemaking restraints.
We got all day.
-To be clear, it is not Jack
who I'm worried about.
The Studio Head set us six up.
They are calculated.
They knew everyone's histories.
They knew where everybody lived.
They rigged a house with
a scavenger hunt full of clues,
set us all up to be there,
and they knew we
were desperate enough
to hop along for the ride.
No, it is not Jack
who I'm worried about.
I'm worried about the psycho
who organized this whole night.
[ominous music]
-[Dame] You sly little slut!
Oh my God,
you're the Studio Head!
-Emma, speak up
when you know you're right.
This town will carve you up
if you don't defend yourself.
-Okay. I will.
-Let's see
who's really in there.
[car honks]
[phone ringing]
Not tonight! [cackles]
-Fuck!
[gunshot]
[indistinct] Ah!
[phone ringing]
-Ah!
-[Officer Dalton] Hey!
What's going on in there?
-[Ghost] I got the script that
we're pulling the trigger on
in the fall.
-Mm-hm.
You'd be great
as the love interest.
-[Officer Dalton]
How long does it take
to go to the bathroom?
[knock on door]
-Who's the lead?
-Do your business
and get back out here.
-[indistinct murmur]
My life is over.
[banging on door]
-Okay, time's up.
[door rattles]
[banging on door]
Hey, hey!
-Stop it, stop it!
-No, no, no.
Help me, help me,
help me, help me!
-[Officer Dalton] All right.
-No. No, no, no.
-Wait.
-You got to get more leverage.
-Okay, get back here.
Hands behind your back, please.
-Now pull that.
Pull it. Yes!
-[gasps]
-So goddamn perfect!
-[Princess] Ow! Ow!
-Yes, yes!
-[Princess] Ow! Ow!
-This is insane behavior!
-Should we make a run for it?
[grunts]
-There's some front end for you.
-Ow. Ah. Ah.
-And breathe.
Simmer. Down.
You gotta be kidding me.
Come on, stop. Please!
-[Ghost] Can you stop it?
-[Dame] No.
-Now, I take back my offer.
-[Dame] Fucked it up.
-I didn't fuck anything up,
you stupid-
-That's it!
-dick kicker!
-Everyone's going
to their own rooms.
-Okay, that's tight.
-Hey, what's your fucking play?
-Listen, lady, I just want
a freaking Best Picture award.
-Bullshit.
[gasps] You set this all up.
You're working with Hero.
Yeah.
He was your inside man,
your Gerard Butler.
I see what's happening.
He came here to make sure
everyone shows up,
and then he has us do
the fucking messy part.
[scoffs] And now he's back
at Jack's turning the place
upside down,
taking way more than
fucking statues.
-You don't know anything.
She knows everything.
-What?
-She knows we're partners.
-How?
-I don't know.
She's a lot smarter
than she looks.
Except she thinks you're a Hero
and that Gerard Butler
is in that movie Inside Man.
-That's Clive Owen.
-Yes, I know.
-Dalt,
what exactly does she know?
Start from the beginning.
-[Ghost] Yeah, Maureen.
I got another shoplifter.
Living the dream.
-[Maureen] Yeah, don't sound
too excited, 127.
[Officer Dalton exhales]
[car revs]
-[John August]
Hello, fellow screenwriters.
-My name is John August.
-Shit.
-[Craig Mason]
My name is Craig Mason.
-[John August] This is
episode 44 of Scriptnotes,
a podcast about screenwriting
and things that are interesting
to screenwriters.
-[Princess] Screenwriter
masquerading as cop.
Only in LA.
-Hey, pays the bills.
-[Princess] Most people
would just drive Uber.
This seems rather involved.
-Hmm, I get the occasional
free coffee.
-[Princess] Is it for research?
-I'm a rom-com guy.
-This is one hell
of a meet-cute.
-You're a writer too?
-In the middle of breaking
the biggest movie of my life.
[country music]
-Here you go.
Everything good?
-Exquisite.
-[bartender] Exquisite?
-[Mary] Mm-hmm.
-Hey, uh, I'm sorry,
this is so stupid
and honestly kind of rude,
but, uh, my manager and I
have a bet going
on how many Tinder meetups
happen here, so-
-Ding, ding, ding!
Guilty as charged.
-We met when he pulled me over.
-Tinder date, yeah.
-I blew a 0.14.
But then I talked him
into letting me buy him a drink
instead of booking me.
[chuckles]
-Oh, really?
He's not even drinking.
-Win-win.
-Oh. [laughing]
-Okay.
Yeah, no, not Tinder.
Way weirder.
-Now, this night's not going
to end up as a scene
in one of Jack Woodrow's movies,
is it?
-Oh, you're more of a movie buff
than you let on.
-Cops just troll Reddit a lot.
-No, this romantic DUI stop
won't end up in a movie,
but it's not above Jack Woodrow
to steal ideas.
-Should I go arrest him?
-[chuckles] I've got more
stories than you can imagine.
-Huh.
-Mm-hm.
-Another round.
-Woo! Woo!
[laughs] Fun.
-Isn't it?
-[Mary] Mm.
So there's these directing
brothers from Texas,
a producer
with a jellyfish franchise,
an actor Jack humiliated
at an audition...
-We've been working
for months on this.
This is just
a last-minute rewrite.
-Is that why you handcuffed me?
-I'm--I'm trying
to help us out here.
-Why the hell did you bring up
Self-Made Woman ?
-I'm not a good improviser.
-You pulled the AA chip
out of nowhere.
-It's a prop.
I use it for motivational
speeches at DUI stops.
-Well, don't.
A guy's been shot,
Jack is tied
to a Citizen Kane table,
and some poor actress
is strung out and unconscious.
So not all of the rules
were followed.
-Whoa! Who's strung out?
-Some actress is blacked out
at Jack's.
-[sighs]
Is she famous?
-She's not in anything you
would know.
-Oh. So on the CW or something?
-Lower tier than that.
Actually, maybe.
I haven't watched anything
on there since Buffy .
-Oh, underrated show.
-No one ever said it was bad.
-Well...
for everything
that's gone wrong-
-There is no bright side
to any of this.
-Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.
Hear me out.
The bright side is that
I tied up Dame and Ghost
in the other rooms
and they can't see you.
-No.
-No what?
-I know what you're getting at.
-No, you don't.
Don't shoot down my idea
before I've even finished
saying my idea.
You said you'd stop doing that.
-Don't even pitch it.
I did my part.
Do yours.
-You know what?
This plan has gotten
discombobulated
eighteen ways to Sunday.
Don't tell me it hasn't.
-I did my part.
I made the invites.
I chaperoned the fuckwits
through the heist.
I got them to steal the awards.
I made the switch
with the gnomes.
I put the awards in the bush
by his front door.
Now go blackmail him.
This was the plan all along.
Go get the awards from the bush,
walk in all big
and tall with your badge,
tell him you caught the guys
who robbed him,
but you're not gonna
give him the awards
until he greenlights our script.
It's an easy negotiation,
Dalton.
He knows he's lost favor
with the LAPD
ever since they had to sweep
a million MeToo's
under the rug.
He'll be scared of you, Dalton.
-What if Dame and Ghost
try to escape?
They have to know I'm here.
-Just do your fucking part,
Dalton.
-Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey.
Come on.
Come on, you can do this.
I'm more of an idea guy.
I'm not really the,
you know, so.
[somber music]
Remember what you told me.
There's no secret to Jack.
Just wants to be impressed.
[dramatic music]
[dramatic music intensifies]
-[Jack singing]
Silent night
Holy night
All is calm
All is bright
[tense music]
-Oh my God.
No.
[door latch clicks]
-[Jack singing]
Up on the housetop
Click, click, click
Down the chimney
with old Saint Nick
Hey.
-Merry Christmas, Jack.
-Baby writer
with a statue script
is going to kill me. [laughs]
-Best Picture-winning
statue script.
And no.
We're going to work together.
-Says who?
-No one, because no one
will take a meeting with me.
I don't have enough credits.
No one recognizes my voice.
Nothing I write
is based on IP.
-Maybe you're just not
that good.
-Fuck you!
-Jesus fuck!
-I wrote a script, Jack.
Biopic.
It's called Self-Made Man .
-Love the title.
-Think Wolf of Wall Street ,
but about Hollywood mogul
Jack Woodrow.
-[laughs]
You stalk my assistant
to get me a script,
and now you stalk me
to write a script?
-You're gonna sign
the title page.
Say it's your Fridge Script
and then make the proper calls
to greenlight it.
-The Fridge Script...
the Fridge Script is bullshit.
It's a marketing ploy
to give me a leg up
on awards season.
I tell people it's important
and it becomes important--
-Then make this
script important.
-What constitutes
that happy ending?
-The best biopics
have tragic endings, Jack.
I think I think me killing you
and getting caught
on Christmas Eve is perfect.
-That's not my favorite ending.
There's no secret to this town.
Cream rises,
but you turn into foam
if you can't handle the heat.
And beautiful,
you have handled it
with fucking vigor.
[determined drums]
I'll read it when the town
gets back from Christmas break.
-It's not done.
I need to rewrite the climax.
-[groaning]
[foreboding music]
[choking]
-[screaming]
-[groaning]
[Jack gasping]
[foreboding music continues]
-Rosebud, cocksucker.
[button clicks]
Ho-ho-ho-ho-ho
Up on the housetop,
ho-ho-ho
Up on the housetop,
reindeer pause
Out jumps good old
Santa Claus
Down through the chimney
with lots of toys
All for the little ones'
Christmas joys
Ho, ho, ho,
who wouldn't go?
Up on the housetop,
click, click, click
Down through the chimney
with good Saint Nick
Ho, ho, ho,
who wouldn't go?
Up on the housetop,
click, click, click
Down through the chimney
with good Saint Nick
[moans]
[phone pings]
-[exhaling happily]
Hey. Need to use the bathroom?
-Call the center.
I know you're working with Hero.
-Okay.
[radio static]
-Hastings?
-[Officer Hastings]
What's up, Dal?
-Could you stop by a house
for me, please?
1400 Kings Road.
-[Officer Hastings]
Tell me where the China Donuts
with the good TP is.
Come on, Dal.
-[whispers] Made it.
-[Officer Hastings]
Tell me where it is.
Last chance,
take it or leave it.
[door closes]
Ho, ho, ho,
who wouldn't go?
Ho, ho, ho,
who wouldn't go?
Up on the housetop,
click, click, click
Down through the chimney
with good Saint Nick
-Oh! Oh, fuck my fucking life.
[indistinct radio chatter]
Up on the housetop,
reindeer pause
Out jumps good old
Santa Claus
Down through the chimney
with lots of toys
All for the little ones'
Christmas joys
-[singing] Ho fucking ho,
let's fucking go!
Ho fucking ho,
let's fucking go!
Up on the housetop,
click, click, click
Down through
the chimney with--
[singing] Fuck you, Jack!
-[singing] Ho, ho, ho,
who wouldn't go?
Up on the housetop,
click, click, click
Down through the chimney
with good Saint Nick
-Suck my fucking ass, Jack!
-Suck his ass
while you suck my dick!
Ho, ho, ho, who wouldn't go?
Up on the housetop,
click, click, click
Down through the chimney
with good Saint Nick
[door creaks open]
[playful music]
-My name's Gia, by the way.
-Hey, hey.
Listen, you don't ever
have to do that.
I mean, you're more talented
than that.
-Can I use the bathroom now?
-Sure, Gia.
-Thank you.
-Bingo! Got our contract!
Jackpot!
My Lord in heaven,
you shit in his briefcase!
[feces splattering]
[knock on door]
-Hey, you good?
-[Dame] I'm fine!
Fuck off!
-[Ghost] Hey, hey, hey, hey.
Let's look for Hero, brother.
I can help you find him.
-Uh, no thanks.
-Goddamn it.
-Whoa!
-Don't move.
Princess, we're leaving!
Prince--what did you do to her?
-Nothing.
-Open the fucking door.
[door latch clicks]
[door creaks open]
[suspenseful music]
-Yeah.
-Are you okay?
-Yeah. What are you doing?
-You know, I'm just taking care
of business.
Don't worry about it.
-[Officer Hastings]
Hey, Dal, Hastings here.
I'm at the house.
-Okay, slow.
-[Officer Hastings] Dal.
-Go ahead.
-[Hastings] Oh my God, Dal.
You're not going
to believe this.
The awards aren't here.
-Really?
-[Hastings] I'm just joshing.
The trophies are- whatever
you call them- are here.
Who would want
those things anyhow?
They look like tacky-ass
paperweights to me.
-Okay, this is not a time
for jokes, Hastings.
-[Dame] Forget the trophies.
Let's wrap it up.
Place is spotless.
Door was slightly open.
That could have caused
the alarm,
but no one's here.
Wicked quiet.
[indistinct radio chatter]
I'm calling it a night, Dal.
Guy's got 20,000 square feet
and Bel Air Country Club
as his backyard.
I'm sure his Christmas
will be more than merry.
-Yeah, yeah.
Gotta go.
-Hey, wish her
a Merry Christmas.
Wish it.
-Merry Christmas, Hastings.
-[Officer Hastings]
Aww, you're so sweet.
-Merry Christmas, Dal.
-That's good.
That's better.
Princess, we gotta go.
-Can I just say something?
-Go fuck yourself.
-So you guys just made
this all up?
You don't have the awards
and none of you
are actual criminals?
I--I mean, except
for the holding a gun
in a cop's face part.
That feels pretty real.
-Fuck yeah, it does.
-[groans]
-Let's bounce.
-[Dame]
So who was behind all this?
-Hey, hey, hey.
-[Ghost] My money, my bet.
Helen Hunt or the Illuminati.
-[whispers]
What happened with Jack?
[soft, foreboding music]
-I improvised.
-[grunts, groaning]
-That's for not doing
your fucking job.
-[panting]
["Carol of the Bells,"
ominous instrumental]
-Oh.
Again, Jack? [sighs]
[clatters]
[gasps]
Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God,
oh my God, oh my God!
[flies buzzing]
["Carol of the Bells,"
ominous instrumental]
[camera shutter clicks]
-[host] All right everybody,
welcome back.
We have some shocking
breaking news to report.
Legendary producer Jack Woodrow
was found dead today
in his Hollywood Hills mansion
along with up-and-coming
ICU Blues actress Anna Rossi.
Both appear to have died
from drug overdoses.
Since news of his death,
several sexual harassment
allegations
came to light
early this morning.
This could mean redemption for
a number of women in Hollywood
who have courageously
come forward
with their truths.
As the producer
who was best known-
-[man] Holy shit.
Jack Woodrow OD'd
with some actress.
-What?
-[man 2] Who?
-[man 1] Jack Woodrow.
-Excuse me.
Did you say Jack Woodrow died?
-Yeah, last night.
-Ben fucking Donaldson.
Remember the name.
-Awesome.
-Yeah, it is.
-Jack Woodrow's death determined
to be an overdose.
-Oh, thank God.
-She was on ICU Blues.
-Did you shred
the Woodrow contract?
-I wiped my ass with it.
-Sam Hartfeld will see you now.
-Hey, let's sell this one
for Dad.
[pensive music]
-[Sam] Hello, gentlemen.
Great to see you again.
-It's Jack Woodrow's
coup de grce.
-Risk-reward.
That's what life's
all about, isn't it?
Are you willing
to make sacrifices
to chase your dreams, or-
In the entertainment industry,
it's populated by dragons
posing as producers.
Are you willing to keep
your moral footing,
stay true to who you are,
or-
in the face of-
just brutal and loyal as fire,
fucking breathing competition?
Or are you gonna let
your environment burn you?
Transform you until
you can spit fire back?
[sighs deeply]
I guess for me, um,
I don't think I'll ever have
what it takes
to become a dragon.
-Great. That was really great.
No, truly, it was wonderful.
You really captured the essence
of Jack Woodrow's
more humble beginnings.
- Thanks.
-He's perfect.
-Are you serious?
There's no way
we can cast him.
[knock on door]
-The next group of actors
are here.
-Got it.
-He will recognize you.
-He says he's not a dragon.
But look.
Look at his eyes.
Right there.
Look. He doesn't mean it.
He regretted not taking
the chance on Christmas Eve.
He hated being
in the waiting room
with all the other
mishmash clones of himself.
-You're guessing.
-I'm not.
We're casting him.
And if he doesn't take the role
that will launch his career,
then...then what is he?
-Talented and morally sound.
-[chortles] Come on.
Let's go pretend like
the other guy's got a shot.
["Carol of the Bells,"
ominous instrumental]
-[narrator]
And thus we witness
how the system
perpetuates itself.
One cog wrenched out
as another rises
to take its place.
The mechanisms of an old system
depend on it,
and I suppose heroes
depend on it too.
["Lucy" performed by Bria Lee]
Oh, Lucy
She's taking blood
for her tears
Oh, Lucy
Break her heart if you dare
She the type of girl
gonna slash your tires
Show up at your job and then
get you fired, my dear
Oh, Lucy
Now there's blood everywhere
Your cashmere lies
Were no surprise
Now she's a-plotting
your demise
Sleep with your eyes
open wide
Better lock all your doors
at night
She got you looking
over shoulders
Very careful turning corners
Boy, you better cover up
your tracks
And now you're turning
all the lights on
Wishing that you
never did wrong
Once she's got you,
there's no going back
Blood everywhere
She's shedding blood
Blood everywhere
Oh, Lucy
She's taking blood
for her tears
Oh, Lucy
Break her heart if you dare
She the type of girl
gonna slash your tires
Show up at your job and then
get you fired, my dear
Oh, Lucy
Now there's blood everywhere
Everywhere
[man cackling]
["Carol of the Bells,"
ominous instrumental]
["Carol of the Bells,"
ominous instrumental]
-[narrator]
Ah, there she is.
Good old Hollywood.
Sold as a land of dreams,
this is a deeply backwards town
for the majority.
Fablers and thespians flock
to the twinkling lights,
where they fight
to make believe,
until a select few rise up
and metastasize
into the gatekeepers themselves.
When some reach new heights,
they withhold a helping hand
and instead spit
on the fellow creatives below.
-[host] Hey everyone, welcome
to Entertainment Evening.
We have lots to unpack
for you tonight,
including a red carpet
altercation...
-[narrator]
But on Christmas Eve,
a sextuplet
of struggling artists
will have their fortunes altered
by an unexpected
and mysterious holiday gift.
[banging on door]
[door creaks open]
[distant dog barking]
-[Dame]
Dear distinguished guest,
you are cordially invited to...
-[Princess] ... a remarkable
and exclusive evening
that will forever
change your life.
[screams]
-[Spaceman]
Enclosed is your golden ticket.
-[Cowboy] And a $1,000 preview
of a fortune to be had.
[laughs]
-[Ghost] Inscribed on the ticket
is your pseudonym,
call time, and address.
You are Ghost.
[phone pings]
["Deck the Halls" on radio]
-[radio DJ] Lastly, there are
three rules for the event.
Don't bring cell phones,
don't discuss
your personal lives
and don't be late.
See you tonight.
-I bet some pretty famous people
Uber up here, yeah?
-They don't ride UberPool.
-[awkward chuckle]
Right. Right.
Right.
Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la!
Hey, what's the craziest thing
you've seen while driving?
Okay, okay, I got one.
[clears throat]
I once saw a pigeon fly out
of a woman's bag.
Now this is a true story.
So I'm sitting up here
in the front seat.
Now, two women
who don't know each other
are sittin' in the back.
Now, grocery bag lady
falls asleep,
and no sooner does she do that
than bang!
A pigeon flies out,
and this guy is flapping,
and he is going crazy.
And the old lady sitting
next to her,
she grabs the pigeon,
snaps the bird's neck
real casual,
and puts it right back
into the grocery bag.
And the craziest part
about this
is grocery lady
never even woke up.
Made me realize
how much we miss
just by closing our eyes.
-Shit...I remember
that monologue
from Leonard Kahn's class.
-What are you talking about?
-Yeah, went there in 2017.
Did the same monologue.
You're good.
You gotta slow it down though.
-Uh-huh. Uh-huh.
On, um, on which part?
[car tires screech]
Thank you for the invitation
to...
Thank you. Thank you.
[foreboding music]
Good day. Thank you so much
for this surprise invitation
to your humble abode.
No one says that.
[doorbell rings]
Hello. Good day.
It's nice to meet you.
It's nice to be
at your sophisticated
and yet humble abode.
-Mm-hm. You're late
and you sound Mormon.
-Yeah. No, no, no.
Sorry.
My--my driver dropped me off
-a little bit down the road.
-Oh!
He doesn't have it.
-Oh no, no.
No, no. I have it.
-[Dame] The card?
-Yeah, I have it.
Yeah, it says--it says--
it says I'm a Hero.
Yeah, yeah, yeah. Oh!
-All right, hold on.
Read the sign.
Wipe your hooves.
-Oh. Yeah.
It's a little tarpy
in here though.
-Yeah, a lot of tarps.
Very American Psycho .
-Whooh. Yeah, I'll say.
-Hey.
-[Hero] Hello, everyone.
-Here. Drink this,
but drink it slowly.
We don't have a lot
of alcohol here.
Okay, guys, this is Hero.
He's late.
Hero, this is everyone.
They've been waiting.
Go ahead,
introduce yourselves.
-My card says I'm a Ghost,
but I'm not a ghost.
-Yeah, no, I'm the spaceman.
-[Hero] Great.
-I was a goat , though,
in a past life in Scotland.
No, but I'm here
in front of you right now.
-Hi. Princess.
-Howdy. Cowboy.
-And I'm the Dame.
-So, uh, you coordinate
this rendezvous?
-No. No, I--I wish.
-[Princess] Well,
this is it then. Us six.
-Oh, and how do you know that?
-There's six chairs.
-[Hero] Right.
Okay, right, that--
yeah, math checks out,
everybody.
Um, so does anybody know
each other, or is-
-No.
-Nope.
-[Dame] Mm-mm.
-No one knows anything,
but clearly this is a game show.
So I just want
to put out right now,
when we do split up into teams,
I just want to let you know
that I'm very lucky.
I'm unusually lucky.
Like, every dog I've ever known
has lived more than 15 years.
Fifteen years! Ha!
That's unheard of.
-I doubt it's a game show.
-Maybe this is a cult thing.
-Honestly, I thought it
was another intervention.
So I've already won.
-You know, they might
be single-filin' us
through that Great Blue Door.
-[Princess] Hmm?
-Uh--
-A Blue Door is a cow's entrance
to a slaughterhouse.
-See, they don't know
where they are
before they get popped
right between the eyes.
[imitates eye popping]
[distant ringing]
-Ah!
Hang on, what is that?
-What is that?
-Come on.
Hey, hey, hey, guys, come on.
Rule number one
on the invite is no cells.
-[Cowboy] You brought your
cell phone with you, didn't you?
-No, you saw me leaving
the apartment.
-Then what's ringing?
Is it in your sock?
-Did you bring your phone?
-It's not my fucking phone!
-I didn't bring my phone.
-Okay, rule number two is don't
talk about your personal lives.
What--what is happening
right now?
-Well, you--you--you did say
the dog thing.
-[Ghost]
But dog's not the same thing.
-Dog is not personal life.
-[Dame] Quiet!
-All right, well,
he's my brother.
-He's always up my ass.
-[indistinct] telling them--
-They would have figured it out
eventually.
I don't know
what you want from me.
-You got to shut your gizzard.
-Jesus Christ.
-Everyone, shut up!
-Listen.
-Shut up!
[device ringing]
-God, it's still sealed.
-Is it in there?
-Oh, wait.
[device ringing]
-What does the card say?
-"Saddle up for a wild night."
[woman vocalizing
"Carol of the Bells"]
-Think someone's supposed
to come in?
-Yeah, right.
Well, you missed your cue.
[chuckles] Saddle up.
Nobody?
Come on, come on.
That was an amateur clue.
Any of you guys could have made
a better clue than that clue.
-Maybe there's something
under one of our chairs.
-Maybe it's like a sexual thing
and we're supposed
to partner off?
[laughter]
-[Dame] Oh, my God.
-What?
-[Cowboy] Fun fact, he actually
took dialect classes
to get rid of his accent,
but he does call
in reservations
as Matthew McConaughey.
-Oh God, why?
-Because this town
is chock-full of smug folk,
and it is my way
of keeping pace.
-[Princess] How clever.
I mean, I just assumed
we're all in the industry.
-[Hero] You're actress?
-Yeah.
But I just dropped my manager,
and I'm actually saving up
for some new headshots, so-
-[Ghost] All right.
I bet I could guess
everybody's jobs.
-[Dame] So,
overconfident producer?
-[Hero] Wait, wait, guys.
I don't think we should be
talking about our lives.
-Okay. So, producer, actress...
-Hm.
-Writer, and...
directing duo.
-Mm. Nope.
-Yeah.
-[Dame]
Who never agree on anything.
-Yeah.
And actor.
-Ha! No.
-Bad actor.
-No, listen, you don't know
anything about me.
-Who has thin skin.
-Okay, fuck off.
-[laughs]
-[clears throat]
Let's figure out what, uh,
saddle up means.
-It doesn't have anything to do
with the chairs.
-The welcome mat!
-Jesus!
-Oh! The welcome mat!
-We're all idiots.
-You want another one of these?
-Yeah, fill her up.
-All right.
-[Hero] The welcome mat.
The welcome mat.
It's the welcome mat.
It's, um--oh, okay.
"Wipe your hooves!"
Oh! Guys, it says
"Getting warmer."
Getting warmer.
Getting warmer.
-Getting warmer.
Oh, they got a barbecue.
Smokehouse out back.
-[murmurs] Warmer.
The sun. The sun.
The solar eclipse?
-Riddles are my nightmare.
-Fireplace.
-[Spaceman]
I was just going to say that.
-The fireplace. Yes.
That's brilliant.
Oh my- That's it.
That's it. Yes.
Um, oh, there's, uh...
there's nothing.
-Look under the logs.
-What?
-Here. Try this.
-You're going to love it.
-Thank God.
-The thingy under the logs.
-No. There's--there's--
there's nothing in-
Holy shit. It's a safe.
-How did you see that?
-[Cowboy] What kind of safe?
[safe beeping]
-[Hero]
Two hours and four minutes.
Guys, it's a safe,
and it's open.
Look, look, look, look, look.
-[Spaceman] Wait, what?
-[Cowboy] Any dinero in there?
-[Dame] What is that note
screenplay thing even say?
-The font's too small.
Give me the logline,
what it says.
-It looks like they'll give us
a shit ton of cash
if we steal five
Best Picture Awards
from some producer.
-More specifically,
"Return the five awards
"to this self-locking safe
by midnight tonight,
"and another hidden safe
will be remotely opened
"containing a life-changing
amount of money.
One million dollars each."
-Holy shit.
-Huh.
-Yeah, I'm gonna go ahead
and say this sounds a little
too good to be true.
[rap music]
-Whooh! I am in!
Come on now.
Only awards I ever got
my hands on
was the Omaha Horror Fest
Audience Award,
so yes, I am in.
-Well, you can be in,
but I'm out.
Ain't no bullwhip
or no crescent moon
that's gonna pull me
into this business.
-Come on.
-Hey, we actually agree
on something.
-Yeah. I mean, [scoffs]
I'm fucking out.
-I'll take my grand--
-Dame, you're kidding me.
and head to Vegas.
Please.
Hero. Princess.
Come on.
-Come on, give me-
-[blows raspberry]
-Really?
You guys, five to one?
We just gonna chicken exit
out of here
and just let me get the six mil
by myself?
-Okay, well, hold on.
Can you read me back the thing?
Start from the top.
-"Exterior mansion,
1400 Kings Road--Night.
We see six struggling
filmmakers--
[glass shatters]
-That's Jack Woodrow's house.
[glass shatters]
-[Cowboy] Jack fucking Woodrow?
-[Spaceman]
Darth Vader of Hollywood.
-Now that is a big bad buck
on our bowstrings,
ladies and gentlemen.
-Hold on. How do you--
how do you know it's his house?
-Yeah, how do you know that?
-I've been there.
-Oh, how--how have you been
to Jack Woodrow's?
-My real passion
is being a caterer.
I just act to pay the bills.
Get the fuck back.
-Are you sure about this?
-Yeah.
-And everyone knows
Jack Woodrow's awards
mean everything to him.
-Everything.
-I'm sorry, I, uh...
who's Jack Woodrow?
[toilet flushes]
[distant birds chirping]
[soft piano music]
-[sighs]
-[Jack] You know,
this is Orson Welles' old house.
-Oh, wow.
It's beautiful.
-The decorations are-
-[Jack] Can't take any credit.
Ex-one bought all of it.
Ex-two rearranged it.
-[soft chuckle]
-Did you practice
your acceptance speech?
In the bathroom?
-Oh, the award. Yeah.
No, I mean- Is it real?
-Oh-hoh-hoh.
Look, you're nervous.
It's okay, I get it.
But stop.
Let's just talk.
Emma and Jack.
We're both filmmakers.
-Okay.
-You like Citizen Kane ?
-Of course.
-You're leaning on the table.
-I'm sorry.
[knock on table]
-One from the archives room
at the beginning.
Hmm?
I used to own the sled, too.
But I gave it to Leo
as a wrap gift.
I'm gonna remake it.
-The sled?
-The movie.
-Right. Yeah.
Remake the perfect movie.
-Almost perfect.
No one's in the room
when he says "Rosebud."
Do you meditate?
-Sometimes.
-Ikea. Adult Legos.
Break for my brain.
Don't have to do anything
except follow instructions.
But, uh, your script
whisked me away.
-That's- wow.
Thank you.
-How did you get it to Mary?
-I knew she was your
longtime assistant,
and I Twitter stalked her.
-[laughs]
Sounds desperate.
-Me and my--my roommate
took shifts.
-Ah, ah, ah.
Tell me about you.
-Well, my script,
Self-Made Woman ,
is sort of autobiographical.
-So you sculpt like
the main character?
-No. I-
-Ah, so you're unconfident
in your artistic abilities,
and you haven't yet stood up
to the lover
who broke your heart?
-I meant more of
the East Coast upbringing.
-[laughs] Ah.
We're finished.
Let's break some stuff.
Safety first.
Take the first whack.
-A...Are you sure?
-Oh, I'm sure.
-Okay.
[strains]
-You can do better than that.
That's all you got?
Come on, let it out.
-[strains hard]
-There we go.
That's what I'm talking about.
Come on.
-[strains hard]
Whoa, it feels good!
-You're a natural.
-[chuckles]
-Let me show you how it's done.
[strains hard, laughs]
Mary will set up
agency meetings.
They'll negotiate
your end of the deal.
-This was incredible.
Thank you so much.
-Emma...
speak up when you know
you're right.
This town will carve you up
if you don't defend yourself.
-Okay, I will.
His assistant never called.
I never got in with an agent.
Jack blocked
all of my pitch meetings,
and then two years later,
he won his fifth
Best Picture Award.
-For Self-Made Woman.
-Did you sue him?
-I tried, but he's pretty
freaking powerful
and pretty freaking famous,
which makes me wonder,
how do you not know who he is?
-Okay. Okay, yes.
How the hell would I not know
who this guy is?
Okay, I'm just trying not
to reveal
that much about myself.
I mean, you guys don't know
how much money I have,
how many cars I drive,
who I know.
-Your tag's hanging out.
-Hero, it says everyone
must participate
or the plan will fail.
-Okay. Okay, but can't I ask
some questions?
I mean, can't I try to poke
some holes in this?
Like--like this guy
who's supposed to pay us,
I mean, what's their motivation?
-I mean, it has to be someone
with a well of hatred
for Jack that's as deep
as their pockets.
-Like a bitter
independent financier?
-It's six million in cash.
-So a bitter studio exec.
-More like Studio Head.
-Everybody gets
a damn code name.
-Right, right.
And the so-called Studio Head,
they expect us to rob
a Bel Air mansion
with a map of the house,
some directions,
and those ratchety things?
-All right, look.
I don't know any of you.
So I'm gonna be
raw-dogging this heist
with a bunch of strangers.
But this "Studio Head"
didn't invite us here
because we're on movie posters
or fucking Fallon .
No, we got invited here
because Hollywood fucked us.
So let's fuck it back.
-Hell yeah.
[dramatic music]
-Oh, God.
Guys...Guys, it's robbery.
-Yeah.
Here's to being millionaires.
-Midnight is the deadline.
The garage is this way.
Let's roll.
-[Dame] I'm driving.
-[Ghost] Come on. Let's move.
-[Cowboy] Let's giddyup.
-Hero. Come on.
This could change your life.
-Yeah. Not like this.
-What?
Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey!
Hey, where are you going?
We need you.
Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey.
Come back!
You're supposed to be the hero.
He just runs away!
[exhales]
[car engine starts]
So he ran away.
-Why the hell
didn't you stop him?
-He's gonna go to the cops.
-No, he won't.
-He needs the money.
-Great.
If you don't think he'll rat,
then get in the fucking van.
-No! No!
-Come on,
we got less than two hours.
-No! No, no.
We are not going.
The Studio Head's plan
states six people,
and I have to be
the distraction outside.
-Well, then we'll have
four people
trying to steal five awards.
-No, it's easy.
Someone'll just have
to cut dirt and snatch two.
-[Ghost] No, no, we can't.
The house is too big.
-[Cowboy] But we've got
all this kick-ass heist gear.
-Well, if the place is too big
and we don't have enough people,
-then how are we even gonna-
-Stop!
I did UCB for a few months.
-What is that?
-Improv school.
I was pretty good.
After I take the first award,
I'll improvise a way
to take the second.
-Well, we're fucked.
-[sighs] Princess?
[car engine revs]
-[whispers] Fuck. So stupid.
-Saddle up.
Oh, we do it live
Drinking [indistinct]
with my boutique
Already too much time
with my mama
Made chicken [indistinct]
Something about this women
[indistinct]
I'm fucking
with my [indistinct]
Welcome to the big leagues
Party all night, gonna
show up on the big screen
We get the job done
[indistinct]
Yeah, you don't qualify
for Lebron
We don't stand in line
[music stops]
Oh, magnetic little doohickeys.
How fun is that?
Big leagues
Party all night, gonna
show up on the big screen
We get the job done
[indistinct]
Yeah, you don't qualify
for Lebron
We don't stand in line
Welcome to the big leagues,
gotta be dressed clean
[indistinct] big screen
[indistinct]
I was on my end scene
[birds chirping]
-[man] Mr. Woodrow?
-Boomer?
-[man] Mr. Woodrow, you here?
-Boomer?!
-[man] Mr. Woodrow?
-God damn it!
[indistinct] fucking assistants
does it take
to answer the goddamn door?
-[man] Mr. Woodrow?
-This better be fucking good.
This better be fucking great!
Ten frickin' minutes to myself.
-Mr. Woodrow!
Hey, man!
-What the fuck!
-[Ghost] Wow.
Love the robe.
I'm your two o'clock.
Ben Donaldson.
Film producer.
Like you.
-My office assistant,
Boomer, set this up?
-Listen, I had to pinch myself
when I got the call.
[laughs]
-Well, he's fired.
-Oh.
-What the hell are you doing
with your upper torso
in my living room
and your ass souring
Helen Hunt's view
from her back porch?
-Oh yeah,
she's your neighbor? Wow.
-Heidi/Dawn!
-[Heidi/Dawn] Si?
[gasps]
-I know, right?
Heidi/Dawn, this is an intruder
and probably registered
sex offender,
and he has a movie he wants
to pitch me, I'm sure.
-True. The movie, uh,
not the sex offender part, Dawn.
-Intruder, this is Heidi,
or Dawn, my weekend maid.
-It's Monday, I'm Dawn.
-Can you grab the cordless
and dial 9-1?
We're gonna let the intruder
pitch his movie,
and if you get bored,
hit the last 1.
-We'll have him arrested.
-No, no, that's not-
-If I get bored, I'll shoot him.
-Whoa, whoa, wait.
-Go!
-Oh no, whoa, no, whoa, no!
-No, that's not-
-I'm drifting off.
-Giant flying jellyfish
over Japan!
-Well, that was just a random
assortment of nouns.
-It's the next great
scary genre.
We can make six movies minimum.
Vampires, aliens,
zombies, ghosts-
they're all played out,
Mr. Woodrow.
The genre needs
some fresh ideas.
-And this,
this Mad Libs pitch of yours
is the new horror staple?
-Giant flying jellyfish
over Japan are real.
[laughter]
-You certainly have
an entertaining
amount of conviction.
-Well, thank you.
Look, Mr. Woodrow,
I'm a huge fan, okay?
I know all of the legends
about you.
The--the Twister rap party.
-Oh yeah, yeah.
That's, that's why Helen
moved next door.
-Okay, uh,
the assistant graveyard.
-Graveyard's a strong word,
but we added a headstone today.
-Ah, Boomer.
Um, your Fridge Scripts.
-What's this one?
-The Fridge Script.
It's the next
Best Picture winner
that you're gonna greenlight.
Yeah.
You keep it in there on ice,
so to speak,
and then you save it
until you think it's gonna be
a weak awards season,
and then boom.
You whip it out, you make it.
That's how you got both
of your Best Picture awards.
-[chuckles] That's a
very creative wives' tale.
Completely false.
[bottles clink]
No script.
A lot happens
between green-lighting a script
and winning Best Picture.
-Yeah, but you make it all
not even matter
because of the way
you campaign.
-Could I campaign an award
out of the jellyfish thing?
[foreboding music]
-You could make a lot of money.
-Yeah.
-Mm-hm.
Get an even bigger house.
[foreboding music continues]
-It's great to meet you.
My office will be in touch.
-[Cowboy] So he stuck
a six-shooter in your face
and annexed the bee
in your bonnet?
Just like Princess.
-He bought it right then
and there.
-[Spaceman] Fucked on the terms?
-[Ghost] Tremendously.
And guys, really, like,
read your contract
before you sign it, okay?
And--and look up
the big words.
[blows smoke]
All right, let's get
to our spots.
-How many of those stupid movies
are there now?
[buttons beeping]
-[cackling]
Oh, Mr. Clooney,
you got your Jesus holidays
mixed up.
The bunny one comes in April.
-I got eyes
on that skeezy dinosaur.
Action, boys.
[socket wrenches thumping]
-God damn it.
-Very funny little prank,
George,
but, uh, bunny's going
to have to freeze tonight,
'cause I'm not fucking throwing
out my back picking it up--
Jesus, fuck!
You're in the rabbit, George?
Wow.
-[Spaceman] Spaceman in.
-Ghost attempting entry.
-Cowboy in.
Well, I'll be.
-Damn.
-Hello, pretty little lady.
[awards music on speaker]
What the...?
-Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!
-What the shit is that?
-Is that awards music?
-Shit, shit, shit,
shit, shit, shit!
-Bro, what the fuck did you do?
-Guys, what the fuck
is going on up there?
-[laughs]
-Ghost is struggling,
but persevering.
[music stops]
-[chuckles] Thank you,
sweet baby Jesus
and Indiana Jones.
-Ghost has entered the building.
Ah! Say hello to Daddy.
Ghost clear.
-Spaceman out.
-Cowboy clear.
-Dame's got the first one.
Heading to Jack's bedroom
for the second.
-[Cowboy] Gotta whip up
another minute, Princess.
-Hey, George.
You coming in for a drink?
-I'm not George,
you naughty boy.
-Oh! Mrs. Clooney.
-[woman] One second, Jack.
[eerie music]
-[sniffing]
[gentle piano music]
-[Jack] Stop!
What the hell are you wearing?
-Just something fun.
-Looks more desperate
than seductive.
What role are you after?
-Ian Somerhalder's girlfriend
in this new episode of--
-A guest star?
A TV fucking guest star?
You only get to take me
on your merry-go-round
so many times before I get sick
of your saddle.
-[chuckles]
Come on.
We're just having
some fun, right?
-This is a transaction.
-I thought
we actually connected.
-Fuck.
[sighs]
Carry yourself
with a little more confidence.
Open your eyes to the situation
and come to the table
with a little creativity.
What is that?
Is that from Target?
[slap thrown]
[laughs]
Whooh, such raw intensity.
I feel like I'm in Teen Wolf.
[laughs]
[slaps hard]
[foreboding music]
[cigarette sizzles]
-[coughs]
-Don't waste your energy
trying to draw a lawsuit.
And please,
get the fuck out of my house.
-No, no.
-[Jack] I'm serious.
You're uninspiring.
You're not talented enough
to even waste a Viagra on.
Get out.
Every second
you're in my house
is a year I make sure
you don't book another role.
One, two,
three, four,
five.
Say goodbye to your 20s.
Six...
Don't forget your shit.
Seven, eight, nine...
ten.
-[scoffs] What the fuck
is wrong with you?
-Toodle-oo.
[cigarette sizzles]
[door creaks open]
-[singing] Jingle bells,
jingle bells,
jingle all the way.
Oh, what fun it is to...
-Go home.
-How old are you?
-[Spaceman] You okay on time
out there, Princess?
-Negative.
-Let's see who's really
in there.
[suspenseful music]
Clooney wouldn't waste
his fucking time
on this Mickey Mouse nonsense.
-Wait, Mr. Woodrow!
-[Jack] Not tonight.
-Everyone, get out.
Now!
-I'm out of the barn.
-Ghost fucking crushed it.
-[straining] Shit.
[buttons beeping]
-[alarm voice]
Bathroom window open.
- Dame, what's going on?
Jack's fucking inside.
-I'll hightail it
and check in on her.
-Oh, son of a bitch.
I'm stuck!
[distant thud]
[suspenseful music continues]
Ugh! Come on!
[buttons beeping]
Come on.
I'm out!
-[alarm voice]
Timed alarm activated.
-Babe?
-[Princess] Dame,
where the hell are you?
-Babe?
-Something's not right.
I'm heading back in.
-Oh, Christ.
[sighs]
Come here. Come on.
[strains]
Bathroom tile can be scrubbed.
[body thuds]
We got business, motherfucker?
-[screaming]
-Jesus!
[straining]
[glass shatters]
-[strains]
-[Jack grunts]
[somber music]
-[woman] Five-oh gonna do
shit about this?
-Barbara was shot at noon.
We can expect a retaliation
by six o'clock, but then-
-[Jack] Thank you.
We've seen enough.
-Oh, no, no.
Um, there's-
there's- there's-
there's more to the scene.
Uh, do you have any notes?
I can- I can try it again.
-I can see you're trying
to get a job.
-What?
-Thank you for coming here.
-No, no, no, no, no, no, no.
It's okay.
I'm...I'm gonna do it again.
Come on. Okay.
Um, a retribution by, uh,
six o'clock.
Um, a retaliation
by six o'clock.
We should be expecting one--
we should be expect-
Goddamn it!
Come on.
Come on, man. Why?
Why did you interrupt me?
Why did you do that?
I mean, why can't people
in this town
just have some respect?
Why can't you be good
fucking people?
[glass shatters]
-Who's next?
[distant car honks]
[trophy clanks]
-[Ghost] Success.
-[Dame] Don't worry,
the cameras are off.
He shuts them all down
with an app on his phone
whenever a girl
comes over alone.
-So whoever set this up
must have known that then, huh?
-Don't look at me.
-You're suspect.
-Oh! Oh, oh, oh.
Damn. No Fridge Script.
-[Princess] Here, lean her back
so she doesn't throw up
on herself.
Okay, good.
-Wait.
Is she one of the cops on SVU ?
-What? No.
I don't... Chicago Fire , maybe.
-Mm. I've never seen it.
Outer Banks .
-You watch Outer Banks ?
-It's a really good show.
-Clock's ticking.
Is he still out?
-I don't know, but he looks
annoyingly comfortable.
-Just looked around.
She's right.
All the cameras are off.
-Yeah, but he saw my face.
-[Jack] I saw crow's feet.
-[scoffs]
-The bird tracks
weren't fresh either.
Means we had a night,
what, maybe ten years ago?
-Hey! I will fucking kill you!
-Tell me your name first.
[slap]
-Oh, damn.
-Oh, boy.
-I'm gonna need more than
just your initials.
- Riverdale?
-No. We weren't supposed
to bring those.
[security device alarming]
He had a fucking silent alarm?
-Yeah, rooster's crowing
pretty loud to me.
[phone ringing]
-Hello, security company.
-They need me to say a password.
-[Dame] Oh, shit.
-Shit, just leave them.
-No, he's seen my face.
-Well, if we don't answer
that phone call,
sheriffs are on their giddyup
towards us.
-Yeah, and if we answer,
he's not gonna say
the right password.
-We are not leaving.
He's gonna remember me.
-Go hide out or something.
-No, I'm not giving up
my fucking career.
-What fucking career?
-Okay. That's it.
Get out of my way.
-Whoa. No, no, no, no.
Dame, don't do that.
No, no, no.
Don't do that.
-Ho-ho-ho,
you fucking idiots.
-Just settle down.
Well, new plan.
[gun cocks]
-What the fuck, man?
-Wait, stop.
-No.
-Think about this.
-Oh, I'm thinking about it.
-Why'd you bring a gun?
-Why'd I bring--?
Some guy you don't know pays
you to go to a strange house
in LA, wouldn't you pack?
-I was and I didn't!
-Well, I did.
Give me that.
-Look at me, Jack.
-Who the fuck are you?
Doggy door guy?
-Donaldson.
Ben Donaldson.
-The jellyfish movies
are still going strong.
-Oh, I know.
Say the password.
-It's actually "jellyfish."
[slams table]
-Yeah. Oh, yeah? Okay.
-[AIT Security] AIT Security.
Am I speaking
with Mr. Woodrow?
Hold the line, please.
Jack, say the password.
Let these people go.
They're good people.
You know what?
Forget about them.
You saw my face.
You know me.
I made you lots
and lots of money,
and you can find me,
and you will.
And I'm gonna take credit
for this whole mess.
My idea. My execution.
I acted alone.
-[AIT Security]
Mr. Woodrow, are you there?
-This is Jack Woodrow.
-[AIT Security]
What's your password, sir?
[suspenseful music]
-Rosebud.
-[AIT Security]
Thank you, Mr. Woodrow,
and happy holidays.
[phone beeps]
-You made the right choice,
Jack.
My office will be in touch.
[gun thumps]
[upbeat action music]
-Fucking idiots.
-We gotta go.
-All right.
[car revs]
-[choking]
-[Officer Hastings]
All right, you're living up
to the stereotype, Dalt.
-[laughs]
Listen, they've got
the softest TP
in any public restroom
north of the 10.
-Which China Donuts is this?
-Oh, a true gentleman doesn't
shit and tell, Hastings.
-Typical.
You know, you LA cops
are just like the rest
of the people out here.
Always looking out
for yourselves.
Where's the loyalty?
-Enjoy your Christmas Eve,
Hastings.
And when that liquid laxative
kicks in,
try not to get a rash
with that bush-league TP.
-That's just really
fucking criminal, Dal.
Come on, come on.
Which one is it?
-Yeah, yeah. You're breaking up.
You're breaking up, Hastings.
Sorry, losing you.
-[Officer Hastings]
Nice try, Dal.
Oh my God, you are smart.
-Hm.
-[911 Dispatcher] Car 127,
car 127 -- we have a 459A
at Beverly Hills,
address is 1400 Kings Road.
-Great. On it.
-[911 Dispatcher]
Just a burglar alarm.
Dispatch wants a Girl Scout
to go knock on the door.
You're in the area.
-I'll see if he wants
any Thin Mints.
-[911 Dispatcher]
Merry Christmas, 127.
-Merry Christmas, Maureen.
[siren wails]
["Deck the Halls"]
Oh boy.
Deck the halls
with boughs of holly
Fa-la-la-la-la,
it's Christmas time
'Tis the season
to be jolly
Fa-la-la-la-la,
it's Christmas time
[car tires screeching]
[car honking]
-[Cowboy] Damn it!
What was that?
What the fuck just happened?
-Shit! Oh, God.
-[Ghost]
Where the hell are they...
where the hell
are they going?
-[Dame] Hey, where the hell
are you going?
The van's stuck.
We need to leave.
-He's not dead.
-I don't give a fuck.
-Well, we can't just leave him
here like this.
-Hey, come on,
we got to get out.
Come on, go, go, go, go, go!
Tick-tock, motherfuckers.
-[Officer Dalton grunts]
-It's almost midnight.
-[Officer Dalton groans]
-[Dame] Come on, come on!
-Hey! Hey! Hey!
Stop! Freeze!
LAPD! Oh!
Ground on the hands!
-Oh God.
-Get on the ground, ma'am!
Get on the ground!
-Okay, okay. I am.
-[Dame] Jesus.
-Ma'am, get on the ground!
-Okay. [chuckles]
-I'm barely over 30.
-Ma'am!
-How about you quit it
with the ma'am shit?
I'm going. I'm going!
You got bitch wrists.
I can see them from here.
-[Princess] Dame, shut up!
-What about our rights?
-Okay, ma'am,
we don't need to read you
your Miranda rights
unless you're being questioned.
They just do it every week
on The Rookie.
-I fucking crushed a self-tape
for that show.
-Okay, a little help here,
please.
Thank you.
Okay, here we go.
Easy does it.
Everything's gonna
be just fine.
All right, and you in here.
Okay, head in.
Yep. Okay.
How many people in the back
of the van, ma'am?
-Okay, now you're
questioning me?
-I'm gonna need an answer.
-[indistinct chatter]
Whoa, whoa, whoa,
whoa, whoa, whoa.
-LAPD! Get out of the van!
-[indistinct chatter]
[gunfire]
Oh!
-[Dame] Oh!
-[Princess] Guys.
-[screams]
Guys, what the hell was that?
-[Princess] Guys!
-[Dame gasps]
-Oh, shit.
-Okay.
-Hey, man.
-[Officer Dalton] We cool?
-We're totally cool.
-[Officer Dalton]
Come out with your hands up.
Nice and slow.
-Super slow.
-[Officer Dalton] Nice and slow.
-Let's go. Let's go.
-[Officer Dalton]
That's not slow-
-hey, come back here.
-Come on.
-What the shit happened
in there?
-Drive safely
and I'll tell you [indistinct]
-[Dalton] You're under arrest!
-Okay, okay.
How the fuck do I drive this
with an airbag?
Why are you covered in blood?
-Hey, hey, hey!
-[Ghost] Let's go!
-Okay, okay.
-[Princes]
What about the brothers?
-[Dame] Fuck the brothers!
-[Ghost] And that's a curb.
-No, no, no, no!
Not again.
[playful music]
Hah!
[quirky music]
This is not good.
-You fucking idiots.
Stop the car.
Please stop the car.
-Your makeup's running, hun.
Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la
-Yeah, you might--you might
wanna slow down over here.
Just a little bit.
-It's fine.
-[Ghost]
Red light, red light.
Hey, that's a red light.
[car tires screech]
-[screams]
-[Ghost] Unbelievable.
-You got blood
on the fucking dash!
-You drove like a moron!
-Just shut up and get the vodka!
-Why, why, why?
-Okay, okay, okay.
-Why, why, why the fuck
did you steal the car?
-We got this.
-No, we don't.
-Okay, you need to get
your shit together, sister!
And you! What the fuck?
You need to get
your shit together.
-No, no, you need to get
your shit together.
-My shit is together.
Clean the fucking car.
-Goddamn it.
-[Princess] All right,
let's wrap this up.
We have four minutes
till midnight,
and this safe
automatically locks,
and these have to be in there.
-Oh, we--we just close one door
and blindly assume another's
gonna open?
-But that's
what the instructions say.
-Come on.
-No.
-This is our leverage.
-What?
-I am taking these [indistinct]
the fucking safe.
-No, no.
That's how we get paid.
-You still think
we're getting paid?
Please. I'm keeping these.
-What are you gonna do?
Auction them on Deadline?
-Okay, what are you,
like a fresh transplant
or something?
-Hey, I have six years in LA.
-Okay, so you haven't been here
since you were a teenager.
You didn't get knocked up,
you didn't raise a kid here.
-You're a parent?
-Wow. [scoffs]
-I'm--that...
-Wow.
-was not meant to be an insult.
-Well, it felt like one.
-It wasn't meant to be.
-Okay.
-You know what,
I may have crossed a line.
-That monster, he saw my face.
Everything is gonna get
fucked up for me now.
Everything is gonna change.
And we put our only
bargaining chip in the safe,
and then it's out
of our fucking hands.
-We're fucked.
-Okay.
We robbed a house.
We stole a cop car,
thanks to you.
-Okay.
-And now we have three minutes
to fucking deliver.
So can you just quit it
with the fucking
broken actress sob story
and finish the job?
Please.
-Okay. God.
-Thank you.
[safe beeping]
-[Princess] [gasps]
What the hell is this?
-Is this a fucking joke?
-[Dame] Where are the awards?
-Ghost.
-That trout fucker!
Where'd you go,
you creepy sack of shit?
-Two minutes
till the safe locks.
Ghost!
-Ghost! Shit! Fucker!
[safe beeping]
-Ghost!
-Hey, what's up?
-[screams]
-Ow! What the shit?
Stop that, please!
What the hell?
What-- What are you guys doing?
-The bag!
The bag is filled
with garden gnomes,
you fucking dickhole!
-What the fuck happened
to the awards?
-What--awards?
Where did you get the gnomes?
-Why are we talking
about gnomes?
I went to the neighbor's house
to use the garden hose.
-Oh, so you were in a yard.
-The bag! There was a bag
that had trophies in it,
and now there are no trophies,
there are gnomes!
-You punched me in my face,
you're rambling on about gnomes.
Imagine if you were me
in this scenario.
[safe beeping]
-Yes. No, he's right.
He didn't switch them.
He would've ran.
-Thank you!
-Cowboy and Spaceman!
-Jack saw the stars align
with your film.
Subdued pageantry.
Unwavering vision.
He adored it.
-We're just happy Mr. Woodrow's
taking a leap on this, truly.
-Why, of course.
-Certainly, it's not exactly
in Jack's wheelhouse, you know.
Grounded sci-fi, that is.
-Well, I've been
Jack's assistant
for a long time,
and I can attest
he's immeasurably appreciative
that you chose him.
-Well, I gotta say,
we were definitely the hot pony
of the parade.
-Yeah, Sam Hartfeld,
he plumped us
with a 62-ounce porter,
hoping we'd sell with him.
Sam is sci-fi royalty.
-Yes.
-But, uh, we are just truly
so, so very excited
to be working
with Mr. Woodrow, ma'am.
And with yourself.
Come here.
-Oh, oh.
Okay, that's enough.
We're all excited.
-Now, Mary, don't tell Jack,
but we got him some Salt Lake
Bar-B-Q sauce,
and we're gonna give it to him
at the end gala tonight.
-Jack flew back
to LA last night.
-S--uh, sorry, Jack wasn't
planning on being here?
-The following statements
about to be said
in this Austin Embassy Suites
on March 13th
are not to ever,
ever be repeated.
-You're kind of-
you're dancing around
the barrel race here, Mary.
-Jack bought your movie
to spite Sam Hartfeld.
-What?
-It will never,
as long as Jack's alive,
be seen by anyone.
-Oh, what about all that
flannel mouthin'
about eating sushi
at the premiere?
I mean, we talked about that.
-Your film is the movie
Sam could have
ostensibly catapulted
into an awards contender.
Jack knew that.
Jack resented that,
so he bought it.
But Jack already has his horse
in the Best Picture race
this year.
-Give us the
fucking briefcase, Mary.
-Just take solace in the fact
you're not the first.
-Oh, fuck not the first, Mary!
-Give us the contract now, Mary.
-Oh, Jesus, bitch!
I'm gonna-[grunting]
Ah, fuck! God!
-Sorry.
-[Spaceman] Stop it! That hurts!
-You can't pepper spray people
like that, you fucking psycho!
-[indistinct] you're such
a fucking idiot!
Oh, goddamn it!
-We gotta get a lawyer.
-Oh, fuck.
We worked on this
for five fucking years, man.
-I'm sorry, partner.
-I can't believe this shit.
We used everything
Dad left us.
-I will make this up to you.
Somehow.
-[Dame] Thirty minutes
until we're millionaires,
ladies and gentlemen.
-This is top five of my top five
Christmas Eves ever.
-Really?
-Yeah.
-Did you have
a difficult childhood?
-[Ghost] No.
[car tires screech]
-Whoa, whoa, whoa.
-[Princess] Dame, slow down.
-Slow down!
-Take it easy, Dame.
-[Princess]
Holy shit, [indistinct]
-[Dame] Stop backseat driving!
-[Cowboy] Dang it!
[car honking]
-[Dame] Fucking pigs!
-What the hell was that?
-What was that?
-[Cowboy] Ow.
-[Ghost] What the hell?
Damn it!
[car honking]
Where the hell are they--?
Where the hell are they going?
-[Dame] Hey, the van's stuck!
-We need to leave!
-We're stuck?
What do you mean we're stuck?
-[Dame] We got to go!
Get out! Tick-tock,
motherfuckers!
-[Officer Dalton]
Get on the ground, ma'am!
-[Dame] I'm barely over thirty!
-It's the fucking cops.
-Shut the fuck up!
-[Dalton] How many people in
the back of the van, ma'am?
-Uh-uh. Hell no.
Not on Christmas Eve,
motherfuckers.
-Put it the fuck away!
-What are you doing?
-I'm telling you to shut up!
-[Officer Dalton]
Whoa, whoa. LAPD!
-No, no, no, no!
-[Dalton] Get out of the van!
-What are you doing?
What are you doing?
-Get down, man!
-Stop it!
[gunshot]
My bad.
You okay?
-I'm gonna kill you.
-[groans] No, listen.
No. Listen.
It doesn't have
to be like that.
Don't--stop.
-[Cowboy screaming in pain]
-It doesn't have
to be like that.
-You shot me!
-It was an accident.
Complete accident
that your brother did.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
You okay? You okay?
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.
-Oh shit.
There's so much blood.
-It's fine.
-[gags] Oh God.
-But a little plump.
-Oh God.
Do you think I was shot?
Did I get shot too?
-No. Ghost took the duffel bag.
-Can you walk?
-Yeah.
-Let's go.
One, two, three.
-[grunts]
-[Officer Dalton]
You're under arrest!
-Other side.
-[Cowboy] What about the money?
-[Spaceman] Screw the money.
We'll never make it back
in time.
[Spaceman] Fuck.
[long beeping]
-Shit, the safe!
-Freeze! Freeze!
-Hey, hey, hey.
-Whoa, whoa, whoa.
-Get on the fucking ground!
Right now!
-Okay.
This Christmas sucks.
-Answer this
next question right,
and we could
all come out winners.
What did you take
from Jack Woodrow's?
-We're not talking
until we get a lawyer.
-We took his awards.
-[Dame] Hey, shut the fuck up.
-Best Pictures?
-[Ghost] That's right, buddy.
All five of them.
It was impressive, right?
-Tell me more.
-Lawyer!
-Okay, this is off the record.
-[Princess] Take a drink.
-Excuse me?
-A statement is inadmissible
in LA County
if the police officer
has traces of alcohol
after interrogation.
-No shit?
-What are you, a lawyer?
-A well-researched screenwriter.
-Two years AA.
Not gonna happen.
-Oh, congratulations.
-That's amazing.
-Thank you.
-I hear they give you back rubs
and blowjobs after three.
-Oh, aren't you clever.
-Just give us a fucking lawyer,
asshole.
Come on.
What? Oh no.
No, no, no.
-See that?
Now see what you did?
-[Princess] What is he doing?
-[Ghost] No, no, no.
Hey, two years, man.
Don't, don't, don't.
Don't. Goddamn it.
Dame just drop kicked him
off the wagon.
-Oh damn, I forgot
how good that was.
Jack's awards go.
-Wow, what did he do to you?
-Jack Woodrow made
my favorite movie,
Self-Made Woman .
-Hey.
-Bravo, Princess.
-[Officer Dalton]
So where's the award?
Give me the Self-Made one,
and I will let you go.
-He's like a bona fide fanboy.
-Yeah, this girl wrote
that movie.
-[Officer Dalton]
No, I don't think so.
Jack Woodrow's sister
with Tourette's did.
-Jack's got a sister?
-Oh, she was so brave
doing her acceptance speech.
-Fuck that cunt
swap bitch licker.
-Okay then.
-[Ghost]
I think she has Tourette's.
-I don't have Tourette's.
-Hm.
-[scoffs]
You sly little slut.
-[Princess] What?
-[Dame] Yeah.
Oh my God,
you're the Studio Head.
You have the awards.
Oh my God.
-[Princess] What?
-Yeah. I see it now.
You hate Jack
even more than I do.
-You.
-I don't.
We were supposed to put them
in the safe.
-Oh, what's that we're talking
about here?
-Is he still drinking?
-Somehow Ghost knew about,
even though he was halfway
across the room.
-Uh, excuse me, I have no clue
what she's talking about,
Your Honor.
-[Princess] Uh, you know exactly
what I'm talking about.
-No, I don't.
-Yes, when he was making
your drink over there.
-Yeah.
-He told Hero to look
under the logs.
-Yeah.
-How could you see it
from all the way over there?
-Shit. How did you see the safe
from all the way over there?
-Wait, wait, wait.
Let's stop this, okay?
How the hell am I the one
that's being stared at
from the back of your heads
over here?
-You set us up.
-I didn't set anybody up,
Princess.
Dame is the one that wanted
to kill him.
Dame set this whole thing up.
-Not everybody
has fucking royalties
from the Jellyfish franchise.
-I didn't get back end.
-[Princess]
So you did set this up?
-[Ghost]
I didn't set anybody up.
Listen, I did check every nook
and cranny in this motherfucker
to make sure that there
were no CIA bugs,
and that's how I found out
that the safe
was under the logs, Princess.
-[Dame sighs]
-So I have nothing else to say.
-[exhaling]
-Right. Okay, fuck it.
You know, my money, my guess.
You want to know?
You really want to know?
Hero is a tremendously
guilty character, okay?
I mean, really, where's he been
this whole night?
Case closed, Your Honor.
-I'm sorry, who's Hero?
-Well, someone has the awards.
-Hm.
And who would that someone be?
-[Princess]
Ghost, playing stupid.
-Or the brothers took them.
-Okay, I'm so sorry.
Could we just back up?
Who are the brothers?
-[snoring]
-[Spaceman] Tracy!
-Fuck! God!
-[Spaceman] Hey, Tracy!
-The fuck, man?
-Hey, T.
T, we need your help, man.
-What the hell?
Hey, my snacks!
What the hell is going on?
-Why are you bleeding?
-Oh, fuck. Oh shit.
-I took a lead plumb
while clipping a bandit's horns.
-You know what the fuck
he's talking about?
-Yeah, no, he got shot
during a heist.
-A heist?
-Yeah.
It's a long story.
Hey, do you know how
to remove a bullet?
-I'm not that kind of doctor.
I'm a podiatrist.
-Well, everyone we know
in the city's in movies.
-Okay, so you come
to the Muggle's house.
-Please, please, T.
Come on, help us out.
Look at it. Please?
Okay, come on.
-Okay, first of all,
how are we supposed
to play pickleball on Friday?
You know what?
All right, guys, all of this
is not fucking cool, all right?
I'm a little stoned right now.
I work on feet, all right?
I don't know how to remove
a fucking bullet.
-You want any of this?
-Yeah, please.
Thank you.
-Oh, shit.
-Well, let's learn
from the best.
-I never know what the fuck
he's talking about, man.
-Oh, this time I don't know.
I don't--
- ICU Blues, man.
-Oh, [indistinct].
So good.
-[coughs]
-[Tracy] Oh yeah.
Give me that.
Give me that shit.
-[coughs]
[heart monitor beeping]
-We need distal control
of this artery
or she'll flatline.
-Holy sakes alive.
That's--that's the fancy lady
from JW's house.
ICU Blues ,
that's the show she's on.
-[sighs]
It's in God's hands now.
-Rewind, rewind, rewind.
Let me see that again.
- [man] I just didn't want
to have to tell him.
-Pause it, pause it, pause it.
All right.
Logan, give me the tweezers.
-Tweezers?
-[Tracy] Yeah.
-Tweezers.
-Hey, uh, hey, T,
I gotta ask you a question, pal.
You think this is gonna put
a hitch in my giddyup?
-Well, the bus driver
did have a cane
at the end of the episode,
but it didn't look permanent.
All right.
-Tweezers.
-Okay.
All right, good.
All right.
Here we go.
-[groaning] Before you get
after this business now,
I want a pour of that whiskey,
please and thank you.
-Yeah, that's a good idea.
I'm going to need
to drink this too.
Ah. All right.
All right.
On three, baby.
-Good. On three.
-Here we go.
-[Tracy] Three.
-Uh-huh.
-Three...
two...
one.
-[grunting]
Shit! Oh, God!
-[Tracy] I can feel it.
I can feel it.
-[gags]
-[Cowboy grunting]
I hate you, T.
I hate you.
[laughter]
-[Cowboy] Look at you.
-[Tracy] Yeah.
This is over between us
- The head trauma
your wife endured
still could have happened
even if you were
in opposite seats
when the tandem bike crashed.
Her coma is not your mistake.
- I can't lose her.
- It's gonna be okay.
It's gonna be okay.
-He choked the toilet.
-Fucking rat!
-You know what?
Guys, I still
do not want to know
where or who you were
screwing with tonight.
I just got one question.
Who's gonna give you
a fucking million dollars?
-Good question.
See, we branded them.
-They're Studio Head.
-What?
-Yeah, the Studio Head gave us
a grand just to show our faces.
-[Cowboy] Mm-hm.
-That's just a grand.
-Yeah, but a grand each.
-Huh. Yeah.
-[laughing]
-You know, we, did rob a house.
Never took anything
for ourselves.
-Yeah, but we took the trophies.
-Yeah, we don't have them.
I mean, we should go back
and nab other goods.
-No! No, we're not going back.
-Yeah.
-Hell, yeah.
-Yeah huh.
-What?
-Yeah huh. Yes. Yes, we are.
Non-negotiable, man.
This is my chance to make up
South Best to you.
This is our real shot
at getting our contract back.
-[grunting] Fuck!
-We could take that
Fridge Script
that you ramble on about.
We could take the art.
-We could take--
-No. Hey, hey.
There's nothing in the fridge.
I checked, okay?
-Take the fridge.
-Well, then the art.
-Take the whole fridge.
-The painting, man.
Fuck the script, man.
I don't care about the script.
I want the movie, man.
I want our movie.
-What has gotten into you?
-A goddamn 38, brother.
I got shot.
- She woke up from the coma.
-You can take my car.
After you unclog my toilet.
Nasty motherfucker.
-Brother, the timing
of your bowels
is crazier than [indistinct].
I'll tell you what,
we got a lot of shut
before JW busts out of them
lovemaking restraints.
We got all day.
-To be clear, it is not Jack
who I'm worried about.
The Studio Head set us six up.
They are calculated.
They knew everyone's histories.
They knew where everybody lived.
They rigged a house with
a scavenger hunt full of clues,
set us all up to be there,
and they knew we
were desperate enough
to hop along for the ride.
No, it is not Jack
who I'm worried about.
I'm worried about the psycho
who organized this whole night.
[ominous music]
-[Dame] You sly little slut!
Oh my God,
you're the Studio Head!
-Emma, speak up
when you know you're right.
This town will carve you up
if you don't defend yourself.
-Okay. I will.
-Let's see
who's really in there.
[car honks]
[phone ringing]
Not tonight! [cackles]
-Fuck!
[gunshot]
[indistinct] Ah!
[phone ringing]
-Ah!
-[Officer Dalton] Hey!
What's going on in there?
-[Ghost] I got the script that
we're pulling the trigger on
in the fall.
-Mm-hm.
You'd be great
as the love interest.
-[Officer Dalton]
How long does it take
to go to the bathroom?
[knock on door]
-Who's the lead?
-Do your business
and get back out here.
-[indistinct murmur]
My life is over.
[banging on door]
-Okay, time's up.
[door rattles]
[banging on door]
Hey, hey!
-Stop it, stop it!
-No, no, no.
Help me, help me,
help me, help me!
-[Officer Dalton] All right.
-No. No, no, no.
-Wait.
-You got to get more leverage.
-Okay, get back here.
Hands behind your back, please.
-Now pull that.
Pull it. Yes!
-[gasps]
-So goddamn perfect!
-[Princess] Ow! Ow!
-Yes, yes!
-[Princess] Ow! Ow!
-This is insane behavior!
-Should we make a run for it?
[grunts]
-There's some front end for you.
-Ow. Ah. Ah.
-And breathe.
Simmer. Down.
You gotta be kidding me.
Come on, stop. Please!
-[Ghost] Can you stop it?
-[Dame] No.
-Now, I take back my offer.
-[Dame] Fucked it up.
-I didn't fuck anything up,
you stupid-
-That's it!
-dick kicker!
-Everyone's going
to their own rooms.
-Okay, that's tight.
-Hey, what's your fucking play?
-Listen, lady, I just want
a freaking Best Picture award.
-Bullshit.
[gasps] You set this all up.
You're working with Hero.
Yeah.
He was your inside man,
your Gerard Butler.
I see what's happening.
He came here to make sure
everyone shows up,
and then he has us do
the fucking messy part.
[scoffs] And now he's back
at Jack's turning the place
upside down,
taking way more than
fucking statues.
-You don't know anything.
She knows everything.
-What?
-She knows we're partners.
-How?
-I don't know.
She's a lot smarter
than she looks.
Except she thinks you're a Hero
and that Gerard Butler
is in that movie Inside Man.
-That's Clive Owen.
-Yes, I know.
-Dalt,
what exactly does she know?
Start from the beginning.
-[Ghost] Yeah, Maureen.
I got another shoplifter.
Living the dream.
-[Maureen] Yeah, don't sound
too excited, 127.
[Officer Dalton exhales]
[car revs]
-[John August]
Hello, fellow screenwriters.
-My name is John August.
-Shit.
-[Craig Mason]
My name is Craig Mason.
-[John August] This is
episode 44 of Scriptnotes,
a podcast about screenwriting
and things that are interesting
to screenwriters.
-[Princess] Screenwriter
masquerading as cop.
Only in LA.
-Hey, pays the bills.
-[Princess] Most people
would just drive Uber.
This seems rather involved.
-Hmm, I get the occasional
free coffee.
-[Princess] Is it for research?
-I'm a rom-com guy.
-This is one hell
of a meet-cute.
-You're a writer too?
-In the middle of breaking
the biggest movie of my life.
[country music]
-Here you go.
Everything good?
-Exquisite.
-[bartender] Exquisite?
-[Mary] Mm-hmm.
-Hey, uh, I'm sorry,
this is so stupid
and honestly kind of rude,
but, uh, my manager and I
have a bet going
on how many Tinder meetups
happen here, so-
-Ding, ding, ding!
Guilty as charged.
-We met when he pulled me over.
-Tinder date, yeah.
-I blew a 0.14.
But then I talked him
into letting me buy him a drink
instead of booking me.
[chuckles]
-Oh, really?
He's not even drinking.
-Win-win.
-Oh. [laughing]
-Okay.
Yeah, no, not Tinder.
Way weirder.
-Now, this night's not going
to end up as a scene
in one of Jack Woodrow's movies,
is it?
-Oh, you're more of a movie buff
than you let on.
-Cops just troll Reddit a lot.
-No, this romantic DUI stop
won't end up in a movie,
but it's not above Jack Woodrow
to steal ideas.
-Should I go arrest him?
-[chuckles] I've got more
stories than you can imagine.
-Huh.
-Mm-hm.
-Another round.
-Woo! Woo!
[laughs] Fun.
-Isn't it?
-[Mary] Mm.
So there's these directing
brothers from Texas,
a producer
with a jellyfish franchise,
an actor Jack humiliated
at an audition...
-We've been working
for months on this.
This is just
a last-minute rewrite.
-Is that why you handcuffed me?
-I'm--I'm trying
to help us out here.
-Why the hell did you bring up
Self-Made Woman ?
-I'm not a good improviser.
-You pulled the AA chip
out of nowhere.
-It's a prop.
I use it for motivational
speeches at DUI stops.
-Well, don't.
A guy's been shot,
Jack is tied
to a Citizen Kane table,
and some poor actress
is strung out and unconscious.
So not all of the rules
were followed.
-Whoa! Who's strung out?
-Some actress is blacked out
at Jack's.
-[sighs]
Is she famous?
-She's not in anything you
would know.
-Oh. So on the CW or something?
-Lower tier than that.
Actually, maybe.
I haven't watched anything
on there since Buffy .
-Oh, underrated show.
-No one ever said it was bad.
-Well...
for everything
that's gone wrong-
-There is no bright side
to any of this.
-Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.
Hear me out.
The bright side is that
I tied up Dame and Ghost
in the other rooms
and they can't see you.
-No.
-No what?
-I know what you're getting at.
-No, you don't.
Don't shoot down my idea
before I've even finished
saying my idea.
You said you'd stop doing that.
-Don't even pitch it.
I did my part.
Do yours.
-You know what?
This plan has gotten
discombobulated
eighteen ways to Sunday.
Don't tell me it hasn't.
-I did my part.
I made the invites.
I chaperoned the fuckwits
through the heist.
I got them to steal the awards.
I made the switch
with the gnomes.
I put the awards in the bush
by his front door.
Now go blackmail him.
This was the plan all along.
Go get the awards from the bush,
walk in all big
and tall with your badge,
tell him you caught the guys
who robbed him,
but you're not gonna
give him the awards
until he greenlights our script.
It's an easy negotiation,
Dalton.
He knows he's lost favor
with the LAPD
ever since they had to sweep
a million MeToo's
under the rug.
He'll be scared of you, Dalton.
-What if Dame and Ghost
try to escape?
They have to know I'm here.
-Just do your fucking part,
Dalton.
-Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey.
Come on.
Come on, you can do this.
I'm more of an idea guy.
I'm not really the,
you know, so.
[somber music]
Remember what you told me.
There's no secret to Jack.
Just wants to be impressed.
[dramatic music]
[dramatic music intensifies]
-[Jack singing]
Silent night
Holy night
All is calm
All is bright
[tense music]
-Oh my God.
No.
[door latch clicks]
-[Jack singing]
Up on the housetop
Click, click, click
Down the chimney
with old Saint Nick
Hey.
-Merry Christmas, Jack.
-Baby writer
with a statue script
is going to kill me. [laughs]
-Best Picture-winning
statue script.
And no.
We're going to work together.
-Says who?
-No one, because no one
will take a meeting with me.
I don't have enough credits.
No one recognizes my voice.
Nothing I write
is based on IP.
-Maybe you're just not
that good.
-Fuck you!
-Jesus fuck!
-I wrote a script, Jack.
Biopic.
It's called Self-Made Man .
-Love the title.
-Think Wolf of Wall Street ,
but about Hollywood mogul
Jack Woodrow.
-[laughs]
You stalk my assistant
to get me a script,
and now you stalk me
to write a script?
-You're gonna sign
the title page.
Say it's your Fridge Script
and then make the proper calls
to greenlight it.
-The Fridge Script...
the Fridge Script is bullshit.
It's a marketing ploy
to give me a leg up
on awards season.
I tell people it's important
and it becomes important--
-Then make this
script important.
-What constitutes
that happy ending?
-The best biopics
have tragic endings, Jack.
I think I think me killing you
and getting caught
on Christmas Eve is perfect.
-That's not my favorite ending.
There's no secret to this town.
Cream rises,
but you turn into foam
if you can't handle the heat.
And beautiful,
you have handled it
with fucking vigor.
[determined drums]
I'll read it when the town
gets back from Christmas break.
-It's not done.
I need to rewrite the climax.
-[groaning]
[foreboding music]
[choking]
-[screaming]
-[groaning]
[Jack gasping]
[foreboding music continues]
-Rosebud, cocksucker.
[button clicks]
Ho-ho-ho-ho-ho
Up on the housetop,
ho-ho-ho
Up on the housetop,
reindeer pause
Out jumps good old
Santa Claus
Down through the chimney
with lots of toys
All for the little ones'
Christmas joys
Ho, ho, ho,
who wouldn't go?
Up on the housetop,
click, click, click
Down through the chimney
with good Saint Nick
Ho, ho, ho,
who wouldn't go?
Up on the housetop,
click, click, click
Down through the chimney
with good Saint Nick
[moans]
[phone pings]
-[exhaling happily]
Hey. Need to use the bathroom?
-Call the center.
I know you're working with Hero.
-Okay.
[radio static]
-Hastings?
-[Officer Hastings]
What's up, Dal?
-Could you stop by a house
for me, please?
1400 Kings Road.
-[Officer Hastings]
Tell me where the China Donuts
with the good TP is.
Come on, Dal.
-[whispers] Made it.
-[Officer Hastings]
Tell me where it is.
Last chance,
take it or leave it.
[door closes]
Ho, ho, ho,
who wouldn't go?
Ho, ho, ho,
who wouldn't go?
Up on the housetop,
click, click, click
Down through the chimney
with good Saint Nick
-Oh! Oh, fuck my fucking life.
[indistinct radio chatter]
Up on the housetop,
reindeer pause
Out jumps good old
Santa Claus
Down through the chimney
with lots of toys
All for the little ones'
Christmas joys
-[singing] Ho fucking ho,
let's fucking go!
Ho fucking ho,
let's fucking go!
Up on the housetop,
click, click, click
Down through
the chimney with--
[singing] Fuck you, Jack!
-[singing] Ho, ho, ho,
who wouldn't go?
Up on the housetop,
click, click, click
Down through the chimney
with good Saint Nick
-Suck my fucking ass, Jack!
-Suck his ass
while you suck my dick!
Ho, ho, ho, who wouldn't go?
Up on the housetop,
click, click, click
Down through the chimney
with good Saint Nick
[door creaks open]
[playful music]
-My name's Gia, by the way.
-Hey, hey.
Listen, you don't ever
have to do that.
I mean, you're more talented
than that.
-Can I use the bathroom now?
-Sure, Gia.
-Thank you.
-Bingo! Got our contract!
Jackpot!
My Lord in heaven,
you shit in his briefcase!
[feces splattering]
[knock on door]
-Hey, you good?
-[Dame] I'm fine!
Fuck off!
-[Ghost] Hey, hey, hey, hey.
Let's look for Hero, brother.
I can help you find him.
-Uh, no thanks.
-Goddamn it.
-Whoa!
-Don't move.
Princess, we're leaving!
Prince--what did you do to her?
-Nothing.
-Open the fucking door.
[door latch clicks]
[door creaks open]
[suspenseful music]
-Yeah.
-Are you okay?
-Yeah. What are you doing?
-You know, I'm just taking care
of business.
Don't worry about it.
-[Officer Hastings]
Hey, Dal, Hastings here.
I'm at the house.
-Okay, slow.
-[Officer Hastings] Dal.
-Go ahead.
-[Hastings] Oh my God, Dal.
You're not going
to believe this.
The awards aren't here.
-Really?
-[Hastings] I'm just joshing.
The trophies are- whatever
you call them- are here.
Who would want
those things anyhow?
They look like tacky-ass
paperweights to me.
-Okay, this is not a time
for jokes, Hastings.
-[Dame] Forget the trophies.
Let's wrap it up.
Place is spotless.
Door was slightly open.
That could have caused
the alarm,
but no one's here.
Wicked quiet.
[indistinct radio chatter]
I'm calling it a night, Dal.
Guy's got 20,000 square feet
and Bel Air Country Club
as his backyard.
I'm sure his Christmas
will be more than merry.
-Yeah, yeah.
Gotta go.
-Hey, wish her
a Merry Christmas.
Wish it.
-Merry Christmas, Hastings.
-[Officer Hastings]
Aww, you're so sweet.
-Merry Christmas, Dal.
-That's good.
That's better.
Princess, we gotta go.
-Can I just say something?
-Go fuck yourself.
-So you guys just made
this all up?
You don't have the awards
and none of you
are actual criminals?
I--I mean, except
for the holding a gun
in a cop's face part.
That feels pretty real.
-Fuck yeah, it does.
-[groans]
-Let's bounce.
-[Dame]
So who was behind all this?
-Hey, hey, hey.
-[Ghost] My money, my bet.
Helen Hunt or the Illuminati.
-[whispers]
What happened with Jack?
[soft, foreboding music]
-I improvised.
-[grunts, groaning]
-That's for not doing
your fucking job.
-[panting]
["Carol of the Bells,"
ominous instrumental]
-Oh.
Again, Jack? [sighs]
[clatters]
[gasps]
Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God,
oh my God, oh my God!
[flies buzzing]
["Carol of the Bells,"
ominous instrumental]
[camera shutter clicks]
-[host] All right everybody,
welcome back.
We have some shocking
breaking news to report.
Legendary producer Jack Woodrow
was found dead today
in his Hollywood Hills mansion
along with up-and-coming
ICU Blues actress Anna Rossi.
Both appear to have died
from drug overdoses.
Since news of his death,
several sexual harassment
allegations
came to light
early this morning.
This could mean redemption for
a number of women in Hollywood
who have courageously
come forward
with their truths.
As the producer
who was best known-
-[man] Holy shit.
Jack Woodrow OD'd
with some actress.
-What?
-[man 2] Who?
-[man 1] Jack Woodrow.
-Excuse me.
Did you say Jack Woodrow died?
-Yeah, last night.
-Ben fucking Donaldson.
Remember the name.
-Awesome.
-Yeah, it is.
-Jack Woodrow's death determined
to be an overdose.
-Oh, thank God.
-She was on ICU Blues.
-Did you shred
the Woodrow contract?
-I wiped my ass with it.
-Sam Hartfeld will see you now.
-Hey, let's sell this one
for Dad.
[pensive music]
-[Sam] Hello, gentlemen.
Great to see you again.
-It's Jack Woodrow's
coup de grce.
-Risk-reward.
That's what life's
all about, isn't it?
Are you willing
to make sacrifices
to chase your dreams, or-
In the entertainment industry,
it's populated by dragons
posing as producers.
Are you willing to keep
your moral footing,
stay true to who you are,
or-
in the face of-
just brutal and loyal as fire,
fucking breathing competition?
Or are you gonna let
your environment burn you?
Transform you until
you can spit fire back?
[sighs deeply]
I guess for me, um,
I don't think I'll ever have
what it takes
to become a dragon.
-Great. That was really great.
No, truly, it was wonderful.
You really captured the essence
of Jack Woodrow's
more humble beginnings.
- Thanks.
-He's perfect.
-Are you serious?
There's no way
we can cast him.
[knock on door]
-The next group of actors
are here.
-Got it.
-He will recognize you.
-He says he's not a dragon.
But look.
Look at his eyes.
Right there.
Look. He doesn't mean it.
He regretted not taking
the chance on Christmas Eve.
He hated being
in the waiting room
with all the other
mishmash clones of himself.
-You're guessing.
-I'm not.
We're casting him.
And if he doesn't take the role
that will launch his career,
then...then what is he?
-Talented and morally sound.
-[chortles] Come on.
Let's go pretend like
the other guy's got a shot.
["Carol of the Bells,"
ominous instrumental]
-[narrator]
And thus we witness
how the system
perpetuates itself.
One cog wrenched out
as another rises
to take its place.
The mechanisms of an old system
depend on it,
and I suppose heroes
depend on it too.
["Lucy" performed by Bria Lee]
Oh, Lucy
She's taking blood
for her tears
Oh, Lucy
Break her heart if you dare
She the type of girl
gonna slash your tires
Show up at your job and then
get you fired, my dear
Oh, Lucy
Now there's blood everywhere
Your cashmere lies
Were no surprise
Now she's a-plotting
your demise
Sleep with your eyes
open wide
Better lock all your doors
at night
She got you looking
over shoulders
Very careful turning corners
Boy, you better cover up
your tracks
And now you're turning
all the lights on
Wishing that you
never did wrong
Once she's got you,
there's no going back
Blood everywhere
She's shedding blood
Blood everywhere
Oh, Lucy
She's taking blood
for her tears
Oh, Lucy
Break her heart if you dare
She the type of girl
gonna slash your tires
Show up at your job and then
get you fired, my dear
Oh, Lucy
Now there's blood everywhere
Everywhere
[man cackling]