Chameleon Street (1989) - full transcript

Now

Have you thought about what you're
going to do on the outside?

Mmmm

Let me put it this way.

Once you get out,
will there be any more of these?

No, no. I'm through.
No more.

No more impersonations?

No.
Enough is enough.

I don't believe you.

Would I lie?

I don't think you're necessarily lying.



I don't think you're in control
of what you do or say.

I think you behave in complementarity.

Okay...

- Do you know what that means?
- No.

That means you intuit
what another person needs,

and then you become that need.

Like right now, you know my job
is to diagnose your neuroses.

"Neuroses are red,
neurosis are blue..."

[DISTORTED INNER VOICES]: Sit down...
Gotta be tight... Shut up...

For the first time, it's like...

Don't cross me...
As tired as the paint on these walls.

I'm about to suffocate.

The Chameleon is about to confess.

I think, therefore I scam.



I think the air is sweet.

I know not what I am.

I am Chameleon Street.

Autumn 1978.

Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman is out,
Mork and Mindy are in.

Platform shoes and 8-track audio tapes
are out.

Weddings and Walkmans are in.

As for my wedding, I got the whole thing
on video, you can see it later.

As for the Walkman,
people ask me all the time,

"What are you listening to?"

I play the classics.

Vivaldi, Hendrix, Debussy.
Sly Stone, Sex Pistols, Ipso Facto.

It helps relieve the boredom

when I'm installing
burglar alarms with Curtis.

Nice back.
You got that good hair, too.

You like what?

I like girls with that light
complexion look.

You're a moron.

I can't help it.

What, being a moron?

Yeah, that too.

You're the first one out there
with a dashiki talking that crap.

CURTIS: I'm a victim.
STREET: Good hair...

STREET: Nigga, you so brainwashed.

- I'm a victim, brother.
- That's your problem.

STREET: A victim.
Shit...

CURTIS: I'm a victim of 400 years
of conditioning.

STREET: Shut up.

CURTIS: The "man" has programmed
my conditioning.

Mmm-hmm.

Even my conditioning
has been conditioned.

[Curtis laughs]

But you know how eventually conditioned
hair will go back to kink.

Meaning what? Eventually you're gonna
end up dating a dark-skinned girl?

I didn't say that.
But I would think about it.

No, but really man, she is fine.

[Street sighs]

You depress me.

What is taking so long?

Why don't you blow the horn?

Yeah, right.

And the rest of the day,
all I'm going to hear is,

"Why d'you blow the horn like that
when I'm taking care of business?"

You know we got somebody new
he's gonna hire.

What, that white boy?

- Rick. Rick.
- Oh, great.

When you meet him,
I hope you don't say:

"Hello, white boy."
Just say, "Hello, Rick."

Hey man, I thought this was
an all black thing.

CURTIS: So did you all have
a honeymoon, man?

STREET: Nah, we had a moneymoon.

A moneymoon? What's that?

STREET: A moneymoon is where instead
of getting your own place,

and traveling somewhere far away,

you stay at my parents' house

and travel over to the mall
and open charge accounts

with Neiman-Marcus, Bonwit-Teller
and Saks Fifth Avenue.

CURTIS: A moneymoon!
[laughs]

[car honking]

Thanks for making my day.
Thank you.

- What?
- What'd you blow the horn like that for?

- What?
- Now...

- Man, he ain't gonna say nothing.
- Yeah, I'll bet.

Five dollars say he don't say squat.

Bet. You're on.

Lay it up. Lay it up.
Lay it up.

My money's good, punk.

That's okay. You're gonna be askin'
me for lunch money today, buddy.

[Street sighs]

I need some money, Curtis.

Yeah. Everybody needs money.

I need some money.

Man, there's lots of ways
to make money.

You need to start taking advantage
of your opportunities.

I mean, you could sell your blood.

Sell my blood?

Right. Eight dollars a pint.

Sell my blood? Man...

The blood bank!

Sell my blood.
I'll never get that low.

I've done it!

Like that's some criteria.
You drink Sterno.

STREET: Working for my father's
burglar alarm company was like

earning slave wages
in the ninth circle of hell.

We spent all our time making
cheap bets with chump change.

I don't know who was more predictable,
the J-O-B or my D-A-D.

Here he comes.

Why don't you give me
the money right now?

Watch.

[approaching steps]

What'd you blow the horn like that for
while I'm taking care of business?

[bill crinkling]

- Thank you.
- CURTIS: Yeah, right.

STREET: I married Gabrielle
in the Spring of 1978

when the dogwood was in blossom.

[TV in background]

STREET: Speaking about dogs,
I'd like you to meet Darlene

my first wife.

She was the living personification
of the question:

"Is there life after TV?"

[burp]

Kiss my ass.

STREET: All I said was,
"May I have my breakfast now, honey?"

Kiss my ass!

STREET: This is home video I shot
of Gabrielle rehearsing for a stage show

put on by Delta Theta Sigma.

That's Gabrielle. She's a Georgia peach
but we met in North Carolina

on Bennett's campus.

Gabrielle had fine assets.

Assets that Darlene couldn't even
begin to approximate.

For one thing, she was a reader,
and so was I.

And sexually, Gabrielle was responsive
with a capital 'R'.

A girl who reads Gwendolyn Brooks
and kisses me like Soulmate #1

deserves to be my significant other.

So anyway, the 70s ended
with the deadly D's:

Divorce from Darlene,
Debt and Depression.

Two years later,
the 80's didn't look much better.

Still living at home with my parents,
still listening to my brother Darren

chew his food too loud.

You see, Darren thinks he's a comedian.

He's about as funny as the last scream
for help at Armageddon.

Stop chewing so loud.

Now you see, I asked him very politely
not to chew his food too loud.

Listen.

[loud chewing noises]

Get a job at a gas station.

Shut up, man.

I'm gonna sneeze!

[laughs]
Very funny.

[children playing outside]

[laughs]

STREET: But as different as they were,
both Gabrielle and Darlene

sent me to work every morning
with the same message:

- Make some money.
- What?

Make some money.

Okay.

[train clacking on tracks]

[van screeching to a halt]

Hey, you guys, this should be a gas.

We've got seven rooms in here to wire.

RICK: Pretty cool
STREET: A gas.

C'mon, Curtis.

CURTIS: Great. All the white boys
in the world,

and your Daddy has to pick
the most happiest.

RICK: Hey, the door, man.
[door slams]

This is boring.

This is boring!

MAN: Throw your dollars down here.

[glass put down hard on table]
STREET: Shit!

MAN: Yup. That's my money.
You're gonna owe me four more dollars.

[loud laugh]

MAN: Give me some money.
STREET: What a minute,

let me try it again.

CURTIS: C'mon, man.
MAN: Double or nothing.

CURTIS: $10 man, c'mon.
MAN: Double or nothing, here.

CURTIS: Set it up.
MAN: There's five, right there.

Just get your four dollars out.

C'mon, c'mon, you can do it, baby.

It's your world, it's your world baby
c'mon, c'mon.

Get me five more dollars
together, y'all.

C'mon baby, you can do it,
you can do it!

Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!
Alright!

[cheers]

STREET: In those days, home away
from home was right here,

at the Trio.
We'd sit around and discuss

all the things dissatisfied brothers
would discuss,

mainly money.

[ringing of cash register]
Sam has a better understanding

of computers than I do.

- Cause you got a computer, right?
- I got a calculator.

- [Curtis snorts]
- Oh, shut up, Curtis.

It's really very simple, man.

Well, why haven't you done it then?

- Because I don't have a job.
- But we all know that.

This'll work man, it's got to work.

Okay. They send the checks
to a clearinghouse.

Check the checks to make sure
that they check.

- Yeah?
- Yeah.

What do you mean, check the checks?
Sounds like a nursery rhyme.

Wait, wait.

So when you put that little
pinhole prick in there,

you know they have to be sorted
electronically, right?

Right.

Those optical characters
at the bottom of the check.

You put a little pinhole prick in there,
the computer can't read it.

So it kicks it back out.

SAM: A pinhole-prick, right?

Pinhole-prick.
Yes.

- Yeah?
- It's really basic.

- Yeah?
- Just like you. Simple.

Have you done it before?

For the past three years.

SAM: You said that last time.

Been working like a charm.

Then why you wearing those clothes?

- And how come you ain't got no money?
- This is my brother's coat.

Why don't you buy some beer?

- CURTIS: Why don't you buy everybody...
- It's your turn.

[train clacking across tracks]

Man, we need some money.

[train clacking across tracks]

[package landing on table]

A kilo of weed of month, okay?

You get rid of thirty ounces.
That'll be $300.

You take 125 right off the top.
That's yours.

Plus... plus...
you can nickel and dime, man,

you can nickel and dime
any miscellaneous buds you may have.

All that is pure profit for you too.

One thing, though.

Keep in mind that this
is strictly business, okay?

You come to me, you say you
wanna make some money.

This is it.
This is your chance.

The question is,
what do you want to do?

STREET: I don't know.

I mean, thinking from a theoretical
point of view,

the question is, do I have to deal
drugs in order to make money?

Wait a minute, wait a minute,
wait a minute.

Look...

Do you want to philosophize
about this brother?

Huh? Or do you want to make
some money.

Make some money.
Mon-ey.

STREET: I had met Detroit Tiger
Willie Horton socially

and he'd been very nice to me.

My ex-high school associates wanted
to make use of the connection.

For how much?

20.
25.000.

SAM: [laughs]
You all are talking stupid.

Now you, I can understand.
But Errol, how you get so stupid?

Duhh... I take stupid pills.

[cackling laugh]

SAM: You can write the company back
and tell them they work, stupid.

Can't write. Too stupid!
[laughs]

STREET:
Twenty... five... thousand... dollars.

$50.000.
They got the money.

- You know they got it.
- You know they got the money.

STREET: And...
who's gonna write the note?

ERROLL: A-hem.
[exhales]

SAM: You can count me out.

CURTIS:
You're the one with the words, bro.

That's right. You know my spellin'
be off sometimes.

STREET:
You know how to spell extortion?

- Yeah, why?
- Can you do it, is the question.

C'mon Get a paper for this, man.

C'mon. I'll even drive you up there.

SAM: Drive.

Use your car, Sam.

[door closing]

C'mon. Let's go, let's go,
let's go, let's go.

- Let's go!
- Let's go!

[car backfires]
[tires screech]

No, let's just stay here.
[engine tries to turn over]

Relax. Let's just camp out here.
[engine keeps trying to turn over]

STREET: To this very day,
people ask me why I did I send a copy

of the letter to the Detroit Free Press
and the Flint Journal for publication.

Dear Mrs. Horton,

We have some photographs
of your husband doing acts

with several different women.

We will not release this to the press
if you pay $50.000 to us,

before banking hours close today.

Go with this man and give him the money

and nothing will happen.

Signed, Doug Street.

STREET: Okay, first of all, I had
nothing to do

with the note appearing
in the Detroit Free Press

of the Flint Journal.
It was Curtis.

Or should I say, "Judas."

CURTIS: That's right.
It was a publicity move.

I signed Doug's name and I was
going to sign mine,

but I thought it was more effective
coming from one person, you know?

STREET: The press adopted me
as a kind of media mascot

for a few days.

REPORTER: How does you wife
feel about your escapades?

[knowing laughter among reporters]

I haven't talked to her yet.

No you haven't.

STREET: Gabrielle was not pleased.

[reporters' overlapping questions]

But I was getting into it.

After that letter to the Free Press,
I leaked to the media

and that the whole extortion thing
was a means to an end,

that what I really wanted all along
was a tryout with the Detroit Tigers.

I was even interviewed by the Barber
twins, Denny and Dave.

Denny covered sports for Channel 59,

while brother Dave's Open Forum
on Channel 4 handled the big issues.

From all the reports, you certainly

seemed to impress the Tigers.
Have you heard from the front office?

Anybody in Tiger
management been in touch with you?

- You mean about a tryout?
- A tryout, a real tryout.

Uh, no, no, not yet.

- Do you think maybe they will?
- Uh, no, no, not really.

Well, I'll tell you what Doug Street,

you've certainly got a lot of moxie

and I hope things
definitely work out for you.

- Moxie?
- Moxie.

- What's that?
- I, I don't know.

My producer gave me the word
and I just tried to slip it

into the the program.

Is that like having garlic
on your breath?

I'll tell you what,
anybody that could pull off

a stunt like this obviously has
a lot of determination and drive,

and I think they deserve a chance.

This has been the Barber Beat.

[cheesy theme music]
Whoo!

Boy. The seat got hot.
You know, Willie Horton?

Personally, and I know him to be
a very understanding individual.

Let's get another record
straight while we're talking about

Mr. Horton.
You never had photographs,

Polaroid photographs
of Willie Horton with girls, did you?

To get the record straight,
that record...

Did you?

I beg your pardon?

You never had Polaroid pictures
of Willie Horton with girls, did you?

No, no.

In fact, had you ever witnessed Willie
Horton cavorting with other women?

- No, no.
- Then why?

Please tell me why

would you concoct such a licentious,
lowdown, loathsome lie?

My objective...
My objective was to...

present Mrs. Horton,
while her husband was away

with something that was so wrenching
that she would be panicked.

I wanted to press her panic button.

Then why...

This is not a big expose you're doing,

this is all a matter of public record.

Answer this question.
Why?

- Why, what?
- Would you concoct...

I wanted to get the money.

Money!

Man, we need some money.

For the money.

You're a liar, aren't you, Mr Street?

[uncomfortable cough]

STREET:
When I got home that night,

I found out that Gabrielle
had the real Evening News.

I'm pregnant.

STREET: The Willie Horton fiasco
changed my life.

It would have changed even
more if they'd pressed charges.

You know, if it hadn't been for Curtis,

my first escapade
would have gotten over.

I decided to try the sports world again,
but this time as a reporter.

From Time.

I had all her personal
statistics in the first 10 minutes.

Height, 6'2". Weight, 165.
Feet, 13. IQ, 178.

She and her twin sister Pam
had already carved a place

for themselves in women's basketball.

They'd gone to the Olympics,
been on the cover of Jet,

and the collection of Paula's
poetry was about to be published.

The way I figured it,
an interview with Paula McGee

could be sold
to Time magazine for $2.000.

She was brimming over
with the four B's.

Black, Brains, Beauty, Basketball.

All in one delectable,
6-foot 2-inch package.

Oh Lord I could just
rap to her like Barry White?

[Barry White music]

[Street imitating Barry White]: Oh,
Paula, let me pull on your pink panties.

And baby, your pert pagodas perched

like two firm pears in my fruit salad.

Got that maraschino cherry, baby.

They peek at me so prettily from
underneath your polyester Givenchy.

I began to suddenly steer
the conversation into her personal life.

Of course, the key word is subtle.

Have you ever had an orgasm?

What's that have to do
with the cover story?

Well, you know, the big picture.

Oh, oh well, it's funny you should
bring that up

because just the other day
I was talking to a friend of mine

about how women fake orgasms,
and I think that's crazy.

Yeah.

I love the haiku form.
It's so...

pure.

STREET: Paula had told her secretary
Melissa to hold all appointments.

This one's called, "Feet."

Your feet stink, your mind is rank,

I hate the way,
you're shaped like a tank.

What do you think?

Mmnh.

Maybe you should stop the tape?

Why?

Because I don't want to sound
like I'm desperate, because I'm not.

- [laughs] Maybe you are.
- No.

Even though I don't go
on the "Love Connection."

That date...
that TV dating game show?

Yeah.

But then I said if I go on the show,
and I say the reason I'm here basically

is because I don't have
anybody to date,

then it looks like I'm desperate.

- No, it doesn't.
- Yes. It does.

I eat chitlins.
The chitlins eat me.

Get me a stomach pump.

So what do you think?

STREET: I don't believe this.

Here she is with the world at her feet,
and she can't find a decent guy to date?

Un-hunh, something's wrong.

After three hours I begin to fantasize

about this extraordinary woman.

In another age, she would have been
a warrior goddess, an African amazon.

Go on and Serengeti me, baby.

[telephone rings]

I got something I need you to see.

I need you to come out here.

Right?

Paula excused herself
and I sat there and sat there

and sat there, blowing smoke rings.

I had misspelled the word "write,"
and whatchamacallher, Melissa,

who wrote such dumbass poetry,

she was smart enough
to call Time headquarters

and ask for a personnel confirmation.

When I married you,
I didn't think you were stupid.

I can't stand stupid men.
I can't stand stupid people, period.

Only a moron would send
a letter with the misspelling like that.

Did you watch your soap operas today?

And see,
you're cutting into my soap time

and I don't allow that.

- Which one did you want?
- Which do you think? Erica, of course.

- Susan Lucci, Susan Lucci!
- "Susan Lucci, Susan Lucci."

I don't know why you waste
your time watching that stuff.

Well, they make about as much sense

as telling people
one lie after another.

I took her to a restaurant
so she would stop pouting.

Babe loves to pout.
She's the Pouting Princess.

- [garbled] I hate asparagus...
- What?

I said I hate asparagus

- that tastes like leather.
- You just don't like vegetables.

- That's not true. I married you.
- And I married you, Mr. Potatohead.

- You know, honey?
- Mmh?

I've been thinking you could enroll
at the University of Michigan

and study medicine.

Hm you've been thinking,
that's dangerous.

You'd like to be a doctor's wife,
wouldn't you?

Yes, you take care of the patients

and then I'll take care of the pennies.

What pennies? Neiman-Marcus
takes care of all our pennies.

- Or Bonwit-Teller.
- Yes or Saks 5th Avenue.

You want another beer?

No, I'm fine.

You are extremely fine
and you know it too, don't you?

[kissing sound]

[burp]

Ah, excuse me, Miss?

I would like another Michelob Light.
And... you want anything else?

Yes.
Two pieces of pecan pie, please.

Two?

Will there be anything else?

She also wants one lifetime charge
account at Lane Bryant.

Yes, thank you.

I thought you were
gonna watch your figure.

I am.
Watch it get big.

You know when you really
think about it,

you're the one responsible
for my overeating.

- What?
- You put me under a lot of strain

with what you've been doing.

Mmh, well, you know if I'd wanted
to marry

a big, fat, greasy, chocolate,
donut-eating, Hostess Cupcake Twinkie

lard-elbowed woman,
I could have married Joy.

If I ever got that big, there's just

- more of me to love.
- More of me to love.

- Alright.
- Well?

Baby, I would divorce you so quick
your head would spin.

- You wouldn't.
- Mhm-hnh.

Would you really?

Well, why don't you
put on 50 pounds and find out?

You're awful.

I live and learn.

One Michelob Light, and two pieces
of the pecan pie.

- Thank you very much.
- You're welcome.

Excuse me.

But I was just sitting
over there admiring your dress.

Thank you.

It's nice to see
some class in this dump.

Don't you know Michelob
is for white man?

And you know that the white
man runs this world?

Is that what it says on the label?

- How much?
- How much what?

"How much what?" Come on.
Cut the comedy.

Bitch is fine.

And I'm willing to pay through the nose
when the ass has got class.

Hot honey, come on,
take a drink here, come on.

You know what I mean?
Porch monkey?

You did say "more funky." That is
what he said, isn't it? "More funky?"

Not porch monkey, more funky. Hey!
What don't you get around... okay?

What are you, crazy?

Nigger. Get your nasty
black hands off of me.

He thinks he can just like
come in here and–

Fucking let go!

[gasp]

You know that's a very nasty word,
but what's really,

pardon the expression,
fucked up, is your grammar.

"Fucking let go."

You can't say that.
You know, the rules of grammar

apply to profanity as well.

The word "fuck"
comes from the German root,

"ficken," which means to strike.

It's a verb and
can be used in a variety of ways,

both transitive and intransitive.

For example, simple aggression.
"Fuck you!"

Or simple confusion.

"What the fuck is going on here?"
And then there's apathy.

"Who gives a fuck?"

And then there's ignorance, which is
very appropriate for you. "Doh!"

Marty.
Call the police.

I can deal with this asshole!

Yeah yeah, sure, defiance,
"the fuck you can."

I ain't gonna take this shit from you!

Authority!
"Shut the fuck up."

And you can say it four
different ways: "shut the fuck up,"

"shut the fuck up,"
"shut the fuck up," "shut the fuck up."

See these are all the things
you could have said

if you weren't so

unbelievably coarse and crude
and countrified.

That's alliteration, babe.

And remember, peckerwood.

Profanity is the last
refuge of the ignorant,

the insensitive and the illiterate.

But if you're going to use it,
and I can see you are

at least get the fucking
grammar right, moron.

[smack]
[crowd gasp] [fist hit]

MAN: Let's see your muscles
instead of your mouth.

Come on boy!
Get up!

STREET: Instant replay.

Dumb broad asked me the other day,

"why didn't you punch out
that peckerwood?"

I said: "Because I was unconscious,
you extremely stupid bitch."

[train clacking on tracks]

I had so many bruises on my face,

for my next role,
I had to use a little bit of makeup.

Gabriel drove me to the hospital
and it was in the hospital

that one of my ideas
was pushed over the edge.

Let me be perfectly honest with you.

Your credentials are
just too amazing to believe.

You know this is the first
time we've ever had an intern

transfer here from Harvard Med.
It's quite an honor.

I considered Harvard myself.

Listen.

Why don't I explain how
the transitional internship works?

Then we can give
you a little tour of the hospital.

You can meet some of the other
residents and see what you think.

Yeah, that sounds fine.

I'll just finish this.
There.

Doctor Street, I'd like for you
to meet Doctor Doris McCully.

How do you do?

I was really amazed at the way
doctors are treated.

Everybody is always glad to see you.

Everybody always listens
to every word and best of all,

everybody laughs at your jokes.

The intern knows all but does nothing.

Now the surgeon knows nothing,
but does it all.

And the pathologist knows everything.
But it's too late.

[laughter]

RESIDENT:
T-max was 102.4 degrees last night.

Alright, let's keep an eye
on that temp today

and get that ultrasound
done this morning.

She could have anything
from hepatitis to a hot gallbladder.

[hospital loudspeaker paging doctor]

Have the surgeons felt her belly yet?

No, in fact, they haven't consulted
anyone. ER admitted her directly

to the floor this morning, 'cause she's
one of Doctor Callis' private patients.

DOCTOR:
Fine, I'll talk to Callis.

In the meantime,
let's get some information on this one.

Alright, that's it.
Let's go get some breakfast.

[organ music]

It was too easy.
It was too easy.

Maybe you're asking yourself,

"Well, how could he
continue to operate in Detroit

after he'd been exposed
on TV and all?"

Answer's very simple.

People forget.

Of course,
your wife ain't exactly "people,"

and my relationship now with Gabrielle
was an intricate cobweb of lies.

You mess with one, they all jiggle.

She believed I was a bona fide student
of medicine enrolled at Wayne State.

She loved me and where love leads,
belief must follow.

After all, we've got to believe
the ones we love.

Let's send Mrs. Crawford down
for a chest X-ray this morning.

And... an AP and a lateral.

- Okay, got it.
- Okay?

Mmh, let me see.

- Doctor Street, are you on call today?
- That's right, it's me.

Good.

Could you look at Robertson in 41?
She's complaining of some chest pain.

Oh.

- Yes, yes, I... I'll, I'll be right there.
- Oh, would you like a stat EKG?

Mnh, yes.

Yeah, I'll take a stat EKG
and... right away.

[suspenseful percussive music]

You had the whole gang today.

- You have a lovely family.
- Thank you.

Doctor Street.
Here's the EKG.

Looks like Mrs. Robertson
is in normal sinus rhythm.

Mnh-hnh. Hmm.

Hmm. Hmm.

Now, Mrs. Robertson.

- Tell me exactly where the pain is.
- Right here, Doctor.

- Right there.
- Yeah.

[murmurs]

And have you ever
felt this kind of pain before?

No, never.
Came on rather sudden.

Rather sudden?

Feels like someone
put a knife in there or something.

- Feels like someone put a knife in you?
- Yes.

Mmnh.

[Velcro detaching]

Let's just...

Hmmh.
[heartbeats]

Now take a deep breath.

Ahhh!

Lord, woman, what's wrong with you?

Doctor, it hurts.

[Moans]
That hurt, doctor.

Do you see a dysrhythmia on the EKG,
Dr. Street?

Ah... Yeah.

Yeah, you mean this EKG here, right?
Yeah.

Yeah.
It could be abnormal.

Apparently, the key word here
was oxygen,

which I ordered for
Mrs. Robertson at the last minute,

and as Doctor Hardy expressed
to me the next day over coffee,

I was doing a very thorough
and professional job.

[train clacking on tracks]

I think I'll stop by just
to see how a Harvard man works.

You know there's a rumor
circulating around here that

when a Harvard man makes his first
incision, he doesn't use a scalpel,

he just orders the flesh to part
and it parts like Moses and the Red Sea.

I'll see you in O.R., 45 minutes.
You've got a hysterectomy to perform.

STREET'S TRAIN CONDUCTOR VOICE:
All aboard to Hysterectomy

passing through Flesh,

Muscle, Organ, non-stop to Uterus.
All aboard.

STREET: I had visualized myself
performing surgery many times,

but of course, there's nothing
ever quite like the real thing.

I don't know if any of you sitting
out there have ever cut a human being

open before with two interns,
three nurses and the resident physician

looking over your shoulder,
but you can take my word for it,

it's an unforgettable experience.

And people ask me
if I regret what happened.

Sure, I regret it.

06:00h. I begin to notice odd details.
I like her belly button.

I've always felt that innies
are infinitely superior to outties,

but on the other hand,
her stretch marks gross me out.

- STREET: Can we begin?
- RESIDENT: Ready.

STREET: Scalpel.

DOCTOR: Wilson. Brady.

I want you to note the speed
and dexterity of Doctor Street's work.

STREET: Oh, speed and dexterity.
What time are they going to show up?

STREET: Open.

I can't believe the amount
of blood in this woman.

Doctor Street has filled me in on
the latest gospel on glove wearing

according to the powers
that be at Harvard.

Apparently they've
discovered that surgical gloves

are more effective if
they're worn two sizes smaller.

- DOCTOR: Can I have the Hemostat?
- STREET: Hemostat.

DOCTOR: Tie?

STREET: Tie, tie.

Why is this nurse breathing so hard?
She's freaking me out.

Either she can tell
I don't know what I'm doing or

the sight of blood makes her sick.

STREET: Wipe. Wipe.

STREET: 06:20 and counting.
God, I'm drowning in my own sweat.

I can't tell what
Doctor Hardy's thinking.

Sometimes he looks puzzled.

STREET: Big refractor.

Sometimes he looks furious.

And sometimes
he just gives me a cold stare.

Oh Lord, I hope this sweat
doesn't make my mascara run.

Be looking like some
kind of punk doctor.

Wipe me.

Alright. Now.

[gasps]

- STREET: METS.
- [DOCTOR]:Suture scissors.

DOCTOR: Alright.
Let's close. Street?

Why don't you help Wilson
and Brady close.

STREET: Certainly.

And Street, after the patient
is in the recovery room,

I want to see you in my office.
Immediately.

Jane, before I suture this patient,
please give me size 6 1/2 gloves.

I hardly know what to say.
This is really quite unexpected.

But I have never
seen a resident at your level

demonstrates that surgical
savoir faire.

All I need now are some fuchsia pots.

I'll go out and buy some.

[knocking on door]

Don't answer it.

Why not?

Two guys came about
an hour ago. I think that's them.

I think that is they. When are you
going to learn how to speak English?

STREET: Don't worry.
[knocking on door]

- Wait a minute.
- Doug?

What?

GABRIELLE: You know if it's the police,
I've got to tell them the truth.

Who said it was the police?

Then why are we whispering?

You're not whispering.

Not soft enough.

- How do you do?
- Fine, thank you.

Are you Mrs. Street,
married to Dr. Douglas Street?

- Yes I am.
- We'd like to talk to the doctor.

- Is he home?
- Yes, he is.

Do you mind if we look around?

STREET: A random security check
at the hospital

had revealed my true identity.

State police had persuaded the young
lady I'd operated on to press charges.

Fraud with malicious intent.

You can go to jail for that.

[prison bell]

[thwack]

[cell door slamming shut]

STREET: I don't know about the rest
of these convicts,

but I didn't come to prison.
I come to study.

- Have you actually...?
- [gasp of surprise]

Sorry about that.

I've been wanting to ask you.
Do you actually read all those books?

Yes.

You know what
puts the frosting on the cake?

- Hunh-unh.
- I understand them.

That's Eugene.

Eugene and I both shared
a mutual admiration

for Jack Kirby and Steve Ditko,
so we'd get together and trade comics

talk comics, remember comics.

In fact, Eugene was in Jackson
because of comics.

He beat on his mother until she died,
because, well, let him tell it.

So when I get home
and go up to my room,

I say, "Mom. What hath
become of my comic books?"

I used to always talk like Thor.

- Yeah?
- Yeah.

[Street laughs]

You used to always talk like Thor, huh?

Yeah, I patterned my speech after him.

Yeah.

Sometimes I talk like Spider-Man.

- Or Daredevil. Or Nick Fury.
- Yeah.

Or the Hulk.

Of course the Hulk really didn't
have too much to say.

No. Not really.

Here you go, man.
[food plopping on tray]

-Thanks,
-That's right.

Hey brother, you better wake up.

You sleepwalking?

No man, this food is tripping me out.

Look. Watermelon is slimy.

Maybe we should stop pressing
license plates and use these for...

[smashing on table]
bricks.

[scoffs]
You don't like the rolls we bake?

- When do you bake 'em?
- 4:30 in the morning.

Get a little hard around supper time.

A little hard?
[laughs]

You have a gift for understatement.
[laughs]

Got some for you Street.
[sound of catching roll]

- What's this?
- Hot.

- Hey!
- No, we use flour.

[chuckles] Okay.
Well listen, how much do I owe you?

It's cool.

STREET: I guess because
he was Chief Cook,

Smooth got a few extra perks.

TV, stereo, hot plate, and the power
to invite a few guests over after hours.

He has access to the best
Thai stick in Jackson prison.

-GUARD: Come on Street,
-One of the guards, Larry Thompson.

He'd take you back
to Smooth's cell after lights out.

Come on here, man!
[warm laugh]

How's it been going?

You ready to finish
that game or you scared?

- Go on and sit on the beat!
- Alright.

My Mama sent me some cookies.
Like chocolate chip?

How did you know?

Hey.

Wendell, where are you?
Wendell?

[screams]

His eyes were boiling with hatred.

I told you not to play with me.

[Western movie shooting]

I didn't mean it.

[crowd roar]
Come on. Steve!

You know...

I've been real nice to you, ain't I?

Yeah man.
And I appreciate it, too.

[karate kick yell]

Strange things happen here at night.
[nocturnal howling]

Pass me that spud, will you?

[TV]: Please don't do it!
[woman screams]

WOMAN ON TV: I said, "please."

Yeah, thanks, that's enough.

TV: [Howling and cat screeching]

Yeah, I've been real nice to you.

You ain't been nice to me.

Hmm?
What do you mean?

You know what I mean.

- Uh-oh.
- You ain't crazy.

- [cough]
- Say what?

Yeah, yeah man. Like I'll be
looking out for you, you know?

Mmh-hmm.

You know how you can
look out for me, don't you?

I could smell his genitalia
as it wafted across the cell.

You don't even know me,
so put your pants back on.

Just put your pants back on.

I can get to know you.

I ain't even like that.

You're doing it with whatchamacallit.

That white boy I see you
hanging out with.

- Aldo?
- That's right.

[scoffs]

You doing it.
What's the matter you color-struck?

Saving it for all the white boys, huh?

Why don't you get
your mind out of the gutter?

You know,
I've been real nice to you, Doug.

You know what goes down.

Not me.
I don't go down.

I don't have to be nice.
[Street laughs]

What are you gonna do? Stop bringing
me hot rolls in the morning?

No, look.

Here you take this joint back.

And you keep that joint under wraps and
you cancel my order for smooth, soft,

steamy succulent, accent-on-the-sucked
breakfast buns and I'll see you later.

I'm gonna get out of here.

Where you think you going?

- Hey, hey...
- I can take it if I want it

and I want it.

Un-hunh.

Don't touch me man.
Mnh-mnh. Don't... touch... me.

What's wrong with you?

Mmm... Oh God.

Man. What the hell's
the matter with you?

I got a nervous...

A nervous disorder and
it has to do with my blood pressure.

It's alright, I got it.

- You got it.
- Mnh-mnh.

Hey, Thompson!
Hey! Thompson.

[garbled]
I...got...a nervous condition.

Nerve... nerve.. Nerve... nerve
nerve... nervous...

condition.

You epilepsy?

Oh no, man no.
It's alright. I got...

They say that I should be
on medication, but

I don't like pills so...

[Street moans]
It's alright.

- What time is it?
- 8:30, uh...

Time for you to go.

STREET: Smooth's philosophy was
if you can't lick him, suck him,

whereas the way I see it,

if you can't suck him, trick him.
Because of the trick epileptic

I was sent straight to the Big House
psychiatrist Dr. Jonathan Hand.

This is all just a vacation to you,
isn't it?

Prison? A vacation?

To you, yes, it's all part
of your grand design.

My grand design.

- You laugh.
- You funny.

Does it say in your folder
there what my grand design is?

Have you got the blueprints?

Has anyone ever told you your sense
of sarcasm is extremely strong?

Oh yeah.

Has anyone ever told
you that white people

who get caught in the rain
smell exactly like wet dogs?

This is fact, believe it or not.

I beg your pardon.
Where the...

I know, I know, I know.
But look,

have you ever been standing

in a crowd of white people,
and all of a sudden it starts to rain.

It's a very particular odor,
extremely aromatic.

Mnnnh.

You like to use humor as a smokescreen.

Look.

I'm so far ahead of you.

I know what you're about to say.
I know what you're thinking.

I know what you're writing
on those evaluation papers.

I know that you're wearing
an incredibly cheap toupee.

I mean, I could sit here and
punch all the right buttons

and make you think you're
a genius for correctly analyzing

this complex, exotic,
notorious Negro, but...

Notorious negro...

That would be a good
name for my autobiography.

I started writing my life story.

No... notorious...

The first time I went to Jackson Prison

I was there for nine months.

Mom.

Give me the phone.

Mom?

And don't call here anymore.

Mom?

And that's the way to handle it.

But anyway,
you're not so far off, you know.

You know, I give people what they want.

When I meet somebody
I know within the first two minutes

who they want me to be.

And I just cut the emotional cloth
of my personality to fit

the emotional clothing
of whomever I'm...

Conning.

DR. HAND:
Why are you smiling?

STREET:
Now you see it, now you don't.

WARDEN: We have a very good
rapport with all of our inmates here.

STREET: The warden walked
through with a group of civilians.

Will you look at this brother here?
He's so busy protecting the white woman.

He can't even
be bothered with my escape.

It's freezing out here.

I mean, I was at Yale.
It's not too far away. I got $24.

I can get a bus in Ypsilanti.

[train clacking across tracks]

The first thing I did after arriving
in New Haven, Connecticut

was get to Yale campus.

Second thing,
get a collegiate Buppy haircut.

Third thing,
get Gabrielle on the phone.

STREET:
What? Don't ask stupid questions...

I can't come back because
the Ann Arbor Police

are asking me for that
non-petition funds check

and I can't report to my parole
officer because she'll lock me up.

GABRIELLE: I can't be a part of this
anymore. I don't believe it.

STREET: What?

GABRIELLE: I don't believe
you're in your right mind, Doug.

STREET: What did you say?

Would you put your mouth
to the phone and talk louder?

GABRIELLE: And even if you are. I'd have
to be out of my mind to get involved.

STREET: While I was in prison, Gabrielle
had become a Jehovah's Witness.

Said she was tired of being a Baptist.

Now how can anybody be tired
of being a Baptist?

Lord have mercy.

Well, we don't see
eye-to-eye or God-to-God.

That afternoon I went to Cocteau's
Beauty and the Beast.

To help get my mind right.

BEAST: Alors!

STREET: I love that movie.

BEAST: Alors, cher monsieur.

Vous volez mes roses.
Vous volez mes roses.

STREET: After the movie I spend seven
minutes persuading Harkness Hall

to let me have a room even
though I don't have my ID card.

Next morning I knew what
I had to do and I was geek to do it.

Stopped by Goodwill.

Bought an $11
corduroy suit with patches...

"I'm depending on you,
son."

- Can you tell me where Harkness Hall is?
- Yeah, it's right over there.

His name: Richard Dukes.
And he was made to order for my ID.

Hey, some of your tapes
fell on the ground.

Duh!

Next morning, 8:00 a.m. Registrar.

- Okay, that's "Richards?"
- Richard,

Richard.

- Dukes.
- Dukes.

- D-U-K-E-S.
- Alright, Richard.

Left a note for Amina Tatiana
in her mailbox.

We haven't seen each other
for five years, not since I split.

Thanks to Dick's ID,

I now have total access
to the university's facilities,

including the library here.

But it won't be long before
the registrar gets hip to this game.

I've got to get another identity, quick.

[ceremonial organ music]

Walking into the library.

Like walking into a cathedral.

I approached the librarian.

STREET: Excuse me, miss.

I always feel
right at home in a library.

Well, who have we here?
Jason Goes to Yale?

I love the atmosphere in a library.

You can almost hear the sound
of thought.

Can you hear it?

And at the moment, all of my thinking
is headed in a bilingual direction.

[continued organ music]

STREET: "Do you sweat much at night?"

"Transpirez-vous beacoup
pendant la nuit?"

"I shave my armpit every day."

"Je me rase mon aisselle
tous les jours."

"Your friend is a real slut.
She gets laid by everyone."

"Ta copine est une vraie poupiasse.
Elle se fait sauter par tout le monde."

"par tout le monde."
"par tout le monde."

MAN: Excuse me sir,
there's no smoking in the lounge.

[FRENCH ACCENT]: But I have been smoking
here for the past two hours.

MAN: The people upstairs say bring the
ashtray downstairs, sir.

There's no smoking in the lounge,
as a matter of fact,

I'm taking that ashtray.

Merde.

MAN: I beg your pardon?

- Merde to you.
- What do that mean, sir.

Merde means merde.

Yeah.

Uh no, they invited me
to this masquerade ball next week.

Yeah, it's a costume ball,

and whoever has the best costume
gets $10.000 prize money.

Shoot. Gabrielle act like
she's sorry I called.

I am sorry, too.

But when I get back to my room,
Amina Tatiana is waiting.

And she wasn't sorry either.

Amina was from Kenya, from money,
from beauty and class.

I was from hunger,

but she loved and excited me in a way
no other woman has before or since.

You look incredibly beautiful.

You look incredibly beautiful.

Tiara.

Tiara.

[romantic guitar music]

Anyway, I just froze.

You know, the only thing I could
think of was, you know the skunk

in the Warner Brothers cartoon,
Pepe Le Pew.

Mmh-hnh.

That's all I could
think of and I just said "Pepe."

You know, if I were
little bit stronger in French,

if I spoke as many languages as you do,
you know that's what I wish.

Then I could really get it.

STREET:
Anyway, do you know who this is?

TIANA: No, I don't think so.
STREET: Édith Piaf.

I taped it off PBS.

[speaking French]

I don't know what
the hell she's talking about,

but I got the words
and inflections down.

So, I decided to show up at one
of these orientation parties.

- STUDENT: McLuhan.
- What?

It was a good test.

MAN: whose said many a times
it's a wasteland.

TV is a vast wasteland.

STREET: I introduced myself
as Pepe le Mofo.

- TIANA: Who?
- STREET: Pepe le Mofo.

I told them I was a foreign
exchange student from Martinique.

I didn't have the Piaf
completely memorized,

but I figured if
I got lost in conversation

I could always start accusing people.
[laughs]

TIANA: Oh, I see.

My faculty advisor, Mr Shaw,

he sat me down with a few students
who claimed they could speak French.

Après moi, le déluge.
Après moi, le déluge.

Oui.

They all thought I was French.

[she laughs]

They tried to pull out
their high school French.

STREET: Everything was fine until Raoul
walked into the picture.

Raoul was a real foreign
exchange student from Belgium.

Je trouve cette chemise très laide.

J'accuse les femmes.

J'accuse.

J'accuse Jacques Brel.

J'accuse Jacques Cousteau.

J'accuse Jacques Strap.

J'accuse Jacuzzi
J'accuse Brigitte Bardot.

J'accuse Pierre Salinger.

GIRL THINKING: What the hell is he
talking about?

Je protégeais quelqu'un, hein?

Quelqu'un.
Après moi. Non?

- Oui.
- Non.

- Oui, non. Oui?
- RAOUL: Non.

Tu ne parles pas français.

How long do you think
you can keep this up?

This French facade.

What are you going
to do while you're here?

I'm going to crash this costume ball
that's being given next week.

It's being given in honor
of Phantomas Judex.

Phantomas Judex?

Yeah, Phantomas Judex.

- The French rock group.
- French rock.

Is it anything like French kissing?

- STREET: You wanna come?
- Oh.

I've got 200 pages of material to absorb
every night for the next two weeks.

But that sounds very interesting.

Douglas Street.
The Chameleon at a masquerade ball.

- Yeah.
- I would like to come with you.

- Alright!
- [she laughs]

- Listen, I'm going to come as the Beast.
- Excellent.

You know, from Beauty and the Beast.

- Yes, yes.
- The fairy tale?

- It's typecasting.
- And you...

should come as Beauty.
Black Beauty.

- Black Beauty was a horse.
- Mmmm...

Black Beauty is...

That's more typecasting.

Remember that time we were in DC.
Oh, there's your earring.

Remember that time we were in DC,

and those kids met us on the street

and they asked you
if you were the black Barbie.

I remember.

- But Doug...
- Mmh?

Maybe Gabrielle should
come with you as Beauty.

How did you know I was married?

Nancy Bankoff told me since I didn't
receive an invitation.

Bankoff.

Gabrielle wouldn't
even get a kick out of it.

She'd probably say
it was against her religion

to attend a masquerade ball.

What do you mean?

Look.

There's a lot you don't know.

TIANA:
Do you love her?

I...

I heard a great quote the other day.

Woman inspires man
to create masterpieces,

and then prevents him
from carrying them out.

- Who said that?
- Oscar Wilde.

Maybe...

Divine Oscar.

She doesn't understand what masterpiece
you're trying to create, Doug.

I'm not sure anybody
understands what you're doing.

Least of all you.

Hey, if I didn't know what I was doing,
I couldn't do what I am doing.

True, but that still doesn't
explain what it is you want.

I want...

If all of my dreams of beauty
had been crazy-glued together

into one perfect woman,
she would have been like you.

Perfect.

Would you listen to what I'm saying?

Don't you know that all my life
I've been going out

trying to find out
what this "love" is about?

- You're married.
- That's what divorce is for.

Oh no. To help you come
up with a definition of love?

Doug, that's like using
abortion as contraception.

You know you're gonna be
a very good attorney.

But could you, like, put down
the law books for a minute?

Why don't you try and talk about

what we can do
in order to stay together?

Why don't you talk about that?

- Oh Doug.
- Don't...

That's what I want.
More than anything in the world.

Mmh-unh?

But in my heart,
I know it will never happen now.

Mnh. I know.

[guillotine smashes down]
[thumping synth rock music]

[continued party music]

STREET: This whole event
is being covered by cable.

Look across the ballroom.

See that huge projection of David's
masterpiece "Marat Assassinated"?

The band members have all taken famous
names from the French Revolution.

The one who calls himself Robespierre,
that's him.

He keeps encouraging the crowd to chant,
"Marat! Marat!!"

Like Marat was some kind of hero.

These people don't even
know they're cheering a psychotic!

Long live lemmings!

SINGER: Woo!

STREET (as BEAST): Belle.
Je vous aime, Belle.

STREET: Garçon!

Yes, Sir.

I need a straw
to drink the champagne. Oui?

Need a straw.

- I will see what I can do.
- Merci beaucoup.

Va. Accélerez, va.

- Vas-tu!
- [responds in bad French]

Va, va, va.

STREET: Merci! Merci!
Merci très bien!

What'd they say?

- How much did you give him?
- Five cents.

I'm cheap, but I have class.
What did he say?

Roughly translated, and I quote:
"You skinflint. You can take

that straw and go suck lukewarm cat's
piss, you transvestite." Unquote.

Well, I wish I could
speak French like that.

An old fag.

[growls]

STREET: The guy who helped me with
my costume and makeup

also ran lights up in
the security booth, Jack Pierce.

He let us kick back there for awhile.

Comb my face, baby.
[growling purr]

Good.

[more purr-growling]

- Open your mouth!
- Ah!

My what long fangs you've got.

The better to gnaw you with, my dear.

And a lot of fillings, too.

[swallowing]

More, more! And try to get it
in my mouth, next time.

I'm trying.

Un-hunh.
Wha... Mmnh.

Ah. Mmnh.

Ah.

I'm happy.
Oh my God.

- Uh-oh. Minute's up.
- What?

Happiness flies when Gabrielle arrives.

Gabrielle?

- That's Gabrielle?
- Gabrielle.

[ambient crowd noise over video]

Do you think she'll recognize you?

I'm going to find out.

STREET: I abandoned Amina.
I haven't seen or heard from her since.

But I still see that look.

I still see that face.

She doesn't recognize me.

Or does she?

[classical waltz music]

By the time the dance was over,
I could tell she didn't know who I was.

Enchanté yourself, Belle.

My name is Gabrielle Street.
What's yours?

EMCEE:
Ladies and gentlemen,

may I have your attention, please?

The time has
come to announce our winner!

And the winner is: Douglas Street
for his costume of the Beast

and Amina Tatiana for her costume
as Beauty.

Doug won! Where is he?
My husband won first prize!

[crowd applauds]

Amina Tatiana? Who's Amina Tatiana?
Doug!

Doug, is that you?

[enthusiastic applause]

[distorted, slow-motion roar]

STREET: I don't know you
and I know you don't know me,

so let's agree to disagree if you want.

But as far as I'm concerned,
most people have

maybe two or three great
moments in their entire lives.

So get it right.

If the moment calls, give me the phone.

If the moment drops by tonight,
show him in.

Make him comfortable.
Set him up in the easy chair,

give him a cup of coffee because I am
definitely into the moment.

[wild applause and cheering]

[eerie music on top of applause]

[wicked laughter]

[piercing siren-like singing]

He told me,
"I didn't sleep with Amina."

I told him that's a lie.
I can see by the way

your nose is flaring, you're a liar.

STREET: I agreed to nine
months of marriage counseling.

Gabrielle got a few things
off her chest,

Bastard.
Answer me.

Answer me.

Do I love her?
Do I love her?

Do I love her?

There are men
coming up to me all the time.

They offer me everything.
Clothes, trips, jewelry.

She never cheated on me.

- And she could have. Time...
- And time...

- and time... again.
- Again.

That hurt me so bad.

Don't get me wrong because
I love my daughter very much.

It just hurt me when...

she had the baby like that
because I wasn't ready.

I know I wasn't ready,
I said then I wasn't ready.

And she's gonna make me be ready
by having the baby behind my back?

They say marriages break
down in bed first. Ours didn't.

After we were married,
we went to visit my aunt

in Burbank, California,
and we went on Newlywed Game.

We couldn't keep our hands off
each other for the whole show.

That's just the way we are.

I think our sex life
is really outstanding.

Even though he does have this little
problem with... premature ejaculation.

STREET: Diarrhea of the mouth.

[key turning in lock]
[Street chuckles]

You know I got three little letters
that'll solve all your problems.

A.D.C.

You hurt my feelings.

That's what they're for.

You damn bastard! You no good asshole!
I don't believe you!

[slapping]

Are you through?

What, are you through?

You don't have to go to the gym today.
You just worked out.

[door opening]

[door slamming against wall]

STREET: Play 509 and box it.

I need more toys.

I need more toys!

Hi, Doug.

Afecrihalu. Astou-sayn.
Astou-sayn. Astou-sayn.

[spraying]

[spraying]

There you go.
New toy. Black Barbie.

[upbeat music on walkman]

Happy now?

STREET: Gabrielle insisted that my work
with the Detroit Human Rights Commission

earned me a six-figure salary.

That's ridiculous.
It was volunteer work.

Would I go to a blood bank
every Tuesday and Friday

if I had big bucks?

CURTIS: I mean, you can sell your blood.
$8 a pint. I've done it.

STREET:
I'll never get that low.

I'll never get that low.
I'll never get that low.

- Well did you get it?
- What do you think?

- Nope.
- Nope.

Yeah, 45, 50.

- That was good work last night, Doug.
- Thank you very much.

STREET:
Let me introduce my new associates.

That's Brian Whitaker,
scholar and a gentleman.

Brian tried to help me out in the end.

RODDY:
Vitamin C goes out when you pee.

That was the voice of Roddy Pettigrew,

in whom both the ass and the hole
meet in perfect union.

Vitamin E makes me sexy.

Take a lot of those.
A lot.

But that doesn't necessarily mean
we're going to win this case.

STREET: Mr. Marshall himself.

They're sending over four
corporate attorneys

to meet with you to discuss
their client's position.

Tomorrow at 10:30.
You're gonna enjoy this one, Doug.

STREET:
Mmh. Is that a promise or a threat?

- Mr. Street?
- Speak on it, Mary.

- Your 10:30 appointment has arrived.
- Oh, is that so.

- Yes, they are here.
- Well, that's fine.

Take them into the conference room,
give them some coffee,

put out the peacock tongue dip
and the gefilte fish.

Follow me gentlemen.

- [knock on door]
- Yeah?

How long are you going to keep
these men waiting?

Five more minutes.

- They've already been waiting.
- Five minutes, that's right.

Another five minutes will make it–

Ten. That's right, Mary,
can't fool you.

[instrumental music]

- To an amicable settlement.
- [MEN AT TABLE]: Toast. Cheers.

[glasses clink]
[Chopin on piano]

STREET: Everything I did
at this luncheon was calculated

to give me the psychological edge.

They each ordered at least two drinks.
I ordered, but I didn't drink.

The Chopin lulled them,
while the alcohol dulled them.

[men consult with each other on menu]
[Chopin music]

I'll have the beef steak tartar.

WAITER: Would you care
for anything to drink, Sir?

OTHER MAN: Um, [indistinct].

STREET: Meanwhile,
I quickly analyze my opposition.

That's Barrett on the right.
He's the head honcho.

Made it to the top
and he's still dissatisfied.

He's got an ulcer, which is why he went
to the bathroom about four times.

That's Jack Griffin,
Barrett's hatchet man.

You don't play with him.

Oh yeah, this guy.
I didn't catch his name.

I think they brought this guy
along to be a distraction.

- Came straight from the dentist.
- Is that so?

Got my teeth cleaned.

MAN: I have to be at the
tanning spa tomorrow morning at 6.

Is that so?

- Did you say the tanning spa?
- Yes.

Which one do you go to?

Golden Tones, in Briarwood.

Is it very expensive?

Yes, actually.

If you're interested,
I can get you a free guest pass.

Oh no.
No, I was just doing a little research.

- On what?
- White people.

It amazes me,

that whites avidly seek after
all the accoutrements of black style.

You pickle your bodies
in gallons of tanning lotion.

You broil your pale flesh brown
in the tanning spas at great expense.

And all the while maintaining such
a marvelous contempt for black people.

You wily Caucasians.

Here's to you.

Yep.

Well, I'll tell you were phenomenal.
You absolutely were phenomenal.

I love the way you
handled those corporate attorneys.

- Four corporate attorneys.
- Four.

- Like a pro.
- Four, count 'em, four.

Like a pro. And I really liked
the eye-to-eye contact.

- Very impressive.
- That's all part of people skills.

Very impressive.
Absolutely.

- If I'm going to have any influence...
- SECRETARY: Good morning, Mr. Marshall.

Yeah.

Gonna have any influence on someone,

you've got to know
how to press their buttons.

By the way, have you noticed
how Roddy has been in the mornings?

He's been real nervous.

- Rodder?
- Yeah, he's...

- How did you notice that?
- You know, he used to pop

those vitamins and now he's into these
Rolaids and Tums.

[Street chuckles]
Well, the strain, the strain at the top.

STREET: My work as attorney
for the DHRC carried me

to considerably higher
echelons of power.

Hobnobbing with His Honor,
Mayor Coleman Young

- was an honor in itself.
- How are you doing, today, Doug?

Alright, sir, fine.
How about yourself?

STREET: My connection
with Mayor Young was tenuous,

but he did remember my name.

- No complaints. Try me tomorrow.
- Right. Very good.

STREET: You know, politics might be
interesting.

REPORTER: Mayor Young.
STREET: "Poli-tricks."

[tape rewinding]

Every evening found me
working late, but do I mind?

Reviewing video depositions is easy.

Renewing broken lines of communication
between a husband and wife,

now that's hard.

Little things like pancake syrup
get in the way.

I didn't tell you to put that
much syrup on.

But I thought you'd like it.
That's why I added extra.

[insistent knocking on door]

I have a general rule of thumb.

Avoid answering
the door whenever possible.

[knocking continues]

How do you do? Is Mr. William
Douglas Street Jr. at home?

- Yes.
- And may that be you, sir?

Yes.

May we come in for
a little musical confection, sir?

- Yeah.
- Then this is for you.

[Group hums note]

♪ This message of music
Some for your amusement

♪ It's a happy anniversary

♪ I'm wishing you the best
And a happy anniversary

♪ Through all of the madness
I should cherish the gladness

♪ That your love has given to me
So deep, so sweet, so right

♪ For a happy anniversary
Happy anniversary

♪ Happy anniversary

♪ Here's to your future, my love
To my rose...

STREET: I remember the first moment
Gabrielle realized

it was not our anniversary.

♪ ...Anniversaries
Are the time to be in love

♪ Anniversaries
Are the time to be in love

♪ Signed, T.R.

Amina.

Hey, babe.

I wonder how long Gabrielle's gonna stay
locked up in the bathroom this time.

God, this marriage has gone sour.

Sour like cottage cheese gone bad.

There's too much tension around here.

And tension kills.

No matter what I do,
she's steady on my case.

All she does is nag nag, nag.
"Get a job, get a life, get a grip."

Yeah, grip this.

I don't know
if she's gonna like this toy.

It's really going to add
some spice to the game.

I wonder how much
Darren shelled out for this?

Oh God, Gabrielle is such a drag.

The only game she wants to play
is "Gimme."

"Gimme money,"
"Gimme a car," "Gimme Godiva chocolate."

"Gimme perfume."
"Gimme clothes."

Give me a break.

Danielle is getting to be
just like her.

"Gimme games."
"Gimme toys." "Gimme dance lessons."

"Gimme candy."
"Gimme Barbie."

Danielle?

Danielle?

Uh...
[sinister interior laugh]

Time to play.

Danielle?

Come to Papa.

[innocent toy piano music]

I'm going to... kill.
Yes, yes, yes.

- Daddy, look it's blood!
- Uh Huh.

Oh Daddy, why you do that?

- It's cause I'm sick.
- Sick?

I'm so sick.
I'm so...

Screwed up.

I am so insane.

So insane.

Does that tickle?

Does it tickle right there?

GABRIELLE: Why you two
so quiet out there?

Tell me. Tell me really.
Does it tickle like that?

Aha. But what about
if we tickle like this?

Oww! Oww!

Doug, what is going on?
What do you think you're doing?

Here, let me wipe that blood
off your neck.

I'm sick and tired of trying
to get these stains out.

- Oh, Mommy, you messed up the game!
- And your Daddy messed up more laundry.

Come on, it's time for you
to go to bed anyway.

And Doug, it's time for you
to go to the asylum.

This is the stuff that washes out.

GABRIELLE: Yeah, and I'm the one
that's gotta wash it out.

- Good night, babe.
- DANIELLE: Good night.

STREET:
That night in bed,

I suddenly realized she hadn't
mentioned money once.

She was finally accepting
the fact that money wasn't everything,

and even if it was,
that I didn't have any.

- Babe..
- Mmnh? What?

Can you see my eyes
moving under my eyelids?

Yes I can.

- Babe?
- What?

If you act real nice,
I'll let you kiss my booty.

Promises, promises.

Mmh, babe.
Your socks are kicking.

Kicking?
Kicking with what?

With odor.

Mmh...
[low chuckle]

STREET:
The next day I went to work fortified.

September 12th, 1985.
And I want to be very clear about this.

I am sitting on top
of the oyster that is my world.

I'm so happy all of my feelings
are registering as cliches.

I've got a song in my heart,
love on my lips, stuff like that.

I was totally
accepted by the Commission.

In fact, Mr. Marshall called me

a godsend in front
of the whole staff one day.

Speak on it, Mary.

MARY: Coffee is here. Would you care
for a sweet roll?

Mmh. Cut the sweet roll Mary,
who needs 600 empty calories?

- Send the coffee in this vicinity.
- Over and out.

Thank you...

Who knows, things might even work out
between Gabriel and me.

I hadn't told her that Mr Marshall
was about to put me on payroll-

that was going to be a surprise.

Some people call me "Mr. Wonderful,"

other people call me "wonderful,"
close friends call me...

- Doug!
- Yeah. Yeah they call me that, too.

William Douglas Street Jr.

VOICE OF DOCUMENTARY NARRATOR:
Born in a log cabin

in the backwoods of Kentucky,

young Douglas soon elevated
himself from field hand to Tiger,

from Tiger to reporter and from
reporter to doctor,

from doctor to coed,
from coed to attorney,

from attorney to Congressman,
from Congressman to President.

- I could play President.
- Doug.

Huh?

There's a state marshal
in the outer office asking for you.

He has 30 armed policemen with him.

- You are joking.
- No.

[phone ringing]

Yes Mary?

MARY: Mr. Street,
there are several gentlemen...

- here to see you.
- POLICE: Where's his office?

I'll be right out.

Fire exit.

Yeah.

[sighs]

[swoosh of guillotine]

[insistent knocking]

- William Douglas Street?
- Don't forget the Junior.

I have a warrant here for your arrest.

Would you step over here, please?

Put your hands against the wall.

Let's get rid of the cigarette.

[handcuffs clicking on]

Doug, is there anyone
you'd like me to call?

Yeah, I'd appreciate it
if you could call my wife.

The number is LV6-3600.

Gabrielle Street.
Tell her...

COLLEAGUE: Where you being taken?

Yeah, I don't know.

Where are you taking me?

You don't have to worry
about contacting your wife.

She knows where you're being taken.
She's in contact with us.

Gabrielle.

I do love you, Doug.

Gabrielle!

I do love you, Doug.

I do, I do, I do love you, Doug.

[Doug laughs]

Oh...

Freud spent a lifetime searching
for an answer to the question

"What does woman want?"

He died never having found the answer,
but I've got the answer.

I know what woman wants,
and it's not pantyhose either.

It's blood.

I do love you, Doug.

[laughs maniacally]

DETECTIVE: Shall we go?

I'd like to take something with me.

What's that?

Those two books on my desk by the lamp.

DETECTIVE: Alright.

[haunting merry-go-round music]

Once upon a time it rained 9 or 10,
maybe 9 inches in the forest

and a lot of the pathways that
the animals used

for walking around were flooded.

Have you got that?

So, like, it's a major disaster area.

And the scorpion, you see,

he's searching for some way,

any way,

to get across the stream,

which was now very much like a river

because of the heavy precipitation.

Now the scorpion being a scorpion
couldn't swim

and he was standing by the edge
of the water talking about it.

Uh-oh.

The scorpion felt enormous
psychological and

-psychosomatic
-Pressure.

How can he ever get across
the surging rivers

skedaddle back home
to his mom and his dad

and his apartment, his 45's,

and his personal computer
and his destiny?

Which is to sting your ass!

Ow.

In any case, the scorpion is so worried

he's beside himself,

his favorite position.

And then all at once a frog
appeared alongside the scorpion.

And the frog said,

- "the rain was truly radical.
- I see you later."

And then the Scorpion
said, "wait a minute,

wait a minute,
wait a minute, wait a minute!

How are you going to get across?"

And the frog said,

"I'm going to swim across."

So,

the scorpion brightened up considerably,
because he had an idea.

Okay, Frog,
you give me a ride on your back

when we get to the other side,
I'll reimburse you with some chips.

"I got your chip."

But the frog wasn't exactly a moron.

The frog was stupid.
He said, "I'm comatose.

How are you?"

And the frog said:

"If I give you a ride,
then you'll sting me and I'll die.

And then everybody
will come to my funeral and say,

'he really was a moron, wasn't he?'"

And the Scorpion said,
"Trust me."

Yeah, right.

"You know you can trust me.

Why would I sting you
when you're saving my life?"

The frog stopped and thought.
The Scorpion's logic was irrefutable.

Even Mr Spock couldn't argue with that.

It would be crazy to bite
the hand that fed you

or in this case sting the back
that bore you.

The frog said,

"Alright, hop on,

But this is going
to cost you a lot of chips."

"Oh yes, I know I know,"
whispered the scorpion, gratefully,

as he delicately positioned
himself squarely on top of the frog.

The frog leaped into the stream
with the scorpion on his back.

He had to swim real real hard,

'cause the current was against him.

When the frog was halfway across,

he began to feel a little tired,

but he kept going anyway.

This is where
those aerobics classes paid off.

And then the scorpion stung the frog
with his deadly poisonous stinger.

Big deal.

Ow-ow-ow-ow-ow!

The frog could feel
the poison numb his arms and legs.

They began to stiffen up.

"I could just d-i-e die."

"Don't worry, you will."

He began to sink.

Yikes!

Before he did, he had to ask
the scorpion one question.

"Why, why, why,

why did you do it, you fool?

Now we're both going to die!

What could you have been thinking of?

- What?
- Why?"

Right before they sank to their death,

the scorpion kinda shrugged and said:

"Well because,
it's my character."