GET A LIFE SCRIPT -- PRISONER OF LOVE 28. 12/14/91 "PRISONER OF LOVE" (206) Writer: Charlie Kaufman / Director: David Mirkin When his pen-pal Irma Jane Cooley is released from jail, Chris falls in love and convinces her to move in. Unfortunately Irma starts rebuilding her criminal empire, and Chris becomes her hostage when the police raid the place. Irma .............. Nora Dunn Policeman #1 ...... Don Sparks Policeman #2 ...... John Putch GUS' KITCHEN CHRIS -- Oh. Rise and shine sleepyhead. Hm. Moowah. (kisses Gus laughs) Remember what our fourteenth president Ben Franklin said "Early to bed early to rise.........oh.....I don't know something something something that rhymes with kite" love Ben Franklin. GUS -- Get out CHRIS -- Oh (laughs) You kidder. (laughs) No, it's time for me to perform that most wonderous of morning tasks: the opening of the morning mail. (laughs) GUS -- Look kid, I got sorta faced last night, so have a little compassion or I'll send your lips down your throat in a clump. CHRIS -- (laughs) Oh stop (laughs) You.....got faced, (laughs) come on. Oh, damn, no ho ho, this is all wrong. Ah ho ho, my hat of the month selection, I specifically requested the alternate this month, the charming yet provincial Peruvian gaucho hat. This is the eighth derby I've gotten in a row. Boy, well, try as you might, they just won't let you quit. Ah. Oh, hey, here's something from the state penitentiary (laughs) my old friend, Irma Jane Cooley. (laughs) It's always nice to hear from one's female prison penpal, don't you agree? GUS -- No, I don't believe they should be allowed to communicate with the outside world. I think they should be locked up forever to rot in their own filth. CHRIS -- You know, but for a slight twist of fate, I too could have been a woman behind bars, a thought that I find sobering but not without a certain quaint appeal. GUS -- Awh, all guys want to be broads behind bars, you're nothing special. CHRIS -- Exactly. And that's why I want to help these good prision folk. I mean, people that have fallen on hard times deserve our love and our compassion. (reads letter) Ho, this lice-ridden, piece of sub-human trash is getting parolled today and she wants to come here. GUS -- Keep her out of my tub or your a dead man. CHRIS -- I'll keep her totally out. Oh sure, she'll be coming to just say howdy-do Mr. Penpal, but before we know it she'll be moving her tattooed-cigarette-grubbing butt into our own personal Oz. GUS -- I like tattoos on a broad. CHRIS -- Chris.....whatever my middle name is Peterson has a plan. You know what I'm gonna do? I'm gonna go to my room and I'm gonna make it look so scary that even a person who doesn't scare very easily is gonna be ....very very scared. GARAGE CHRIS -- Yes Gus yes, please come in. In fact, why don't you stay awhile....if you can. (laughs) GUS -- I gotta tell you kid, I'm not exactly moist with terror. CHRIS -- Well that's just because you haven't looked closely enough yet. (clears throat) Tell me Gus, can you see anything that might.....oh, I don't know......be slightly unsettling to one's nerves? (clears throat much and stands next to box with "A TIGER IS IN HERE" written on it) Roar. It's okay, it's okay, don't run away. Stay, stay right where you are. There's not really a tiger in this box, but doesn't it look exactly like their could be a tiger in this box? Guess what, if that doesn't scare her, let's see her get by this. Woo wooo. Say hello to Mr. Ghostie. (laughs) It's okay, it's okay, it's just me. And now, the ultimate terror, I'm gonna need your help with this one Gus, if you'll just plant yourself right here, uh huh, and that's perfect. (laughs) Hm hm. Mm. A balmy hamper breeze. Sweet. GUS -- (coughs) Jeeze, there goes my one good lung. CHRIS -- Works like a charm. (door knocks) Oh she's here. She's here. Places everyone, places. Okay, good luck to us all. Boo ooo. woo. IRMA -- What kinda crap is this? CHRIS -- (fall in love with her music see her in a white gown) Oh, fair lady, you sir are the most exquisite creature my puny mortal eyes have ever beheld. (kisses her hand) IRMA -- Yeah well, you're kinda gross. I can see why you wear a sheet. Jeeze, it smells bad in here. CHRIS -- Oh well I can fix that. Gimme a second here, I can fix that, no problem. (sprays air freshener and shuts off hamper breeze) I love you. IRMA -- You look different than your picture. CHRIS -- Oh yeah uh, (laughs) confession time. Ah, (laughs) you know, that picture I sent you wasn't really of me. No it was of ah, Hardy Boy extraordinare Parker Stevenson. (laughs) I kinda just drew a beard on.(laughs) IRMA -- Look, I just dropped by to say a quick hello, borrow like five-hundred bucks and get the hell outta here. CHRIS -- No, no you can't, you have to stay here. You have to, I insist, in, in fact here, you can take the bed. I won't need it...as long as I can just...crouch in the corner and.......stare at you all night. IRMA -- What the hell, I got no place else to go. But I swear, if you so much as lay a finger on me Ill rip your throat out so fast it'll be screaming "uncle" in my fist. CHRIS -- You know when you talk like that ,it is so hard for me to believe you are a hardened criminal. I mean, you talk like everyother girl I date, with just a little dash of my grandmother thrown in.(blows kisses) PETERSON KITCHEN CHRIS -- Mother, Father, may I introduce...Irma. IRMA -- Hey nice digs. You got any furs around honey? FRED -- Irma, that sounds like the name of some broad in the slammer. CHRIS -- (laughs) Oh no my grossly misinformed friend no. Irma is just recently just out of the slammer. GLADYS -- It's a pleasure to meet you dear. We'd invite you for coffee with us but frankly Mr. Peterson and I have no use for pathetic bighouse scum like yourself. CHRIS -- Jeeze Mom, everytime I bring home a con, it's always the same talk. (laughs) No, Irma and I have been penpals for years and now that she's hit the streets...well we've, we've fallen madly in love. GLADYS -- Are you sure she's your type dear, she looks a bit butch? CHRIS -- What? What am I? Am I hearing wedding bells in Chris Peterson's future? Well now let me get off my high horse here, and ah, hands the reigns over, as it were, to ah, my lovely bareback rider. Jeeze I really have a way of painting pictures with words, don't I? IRMA -- I am only too anxious to begin my life anew as a productive member of society. And what better way than to help my fellow citizens, especially the elderly and infirmed, with their checkbooks, retirement plans and monthly budgets. CHRIS -- Allright, so if you'll just hand over your account numbers and pin codes. FRED -- Over our dead and rotting corpses. GLADYS -- We may be old dear but we're not stupid. CHRIS -- Come one honey, let's waltz our way out of this sewer of petty distrust and close-mindedness. Huh, come on lee dee dee dee dee (Irma knees him in the groin) Oh. See you've upset her so much that she doesn't want to dance. FRED -- What a shame. She looks like she could cut a mean rug too. CHRIS -- (sobs) Is there anyone your evil sarcasm hasn't crushed? GARAGE CHRIS -- Dee dee deedle um etc. Oh. Idyllic life. Huh, A man comes home from a leisurely morning of fishing and eating grass, finds his woman hard at work on her little crafts projects. (laughs) What are ya working on there honey? Let me take a look at that. IRMA -- Don't touch the hundreds jerk. The inks not dry yet. CHRIS -- So sorry. Oh hey Irma, I see you've upgraded your stereo system, perfect. You know I only wish you had someway of protecting all this stuff, it's.....(sees a wall of guns) Oh, I see you do. IRMA -- Ain't you got something to do? CHRIS -- Yes, I do as a matter of fact. Now that you mention it, I have got a lot of loose ends to tie up before our June wedding. Now let's just see here. I think probably we're gonna want to put the Rabbi on the revolving platform right about here. IRMA -- (answers phone) Eeyavole. Right, I'll take all thirty kee's. CHRIS -- Hey, hey what's this? Oh honey, did you get me that sack of horse manuer that I had my eye on? IRMA -- Don't look in that! CHRIS -- Well why whateh........ Hey, there's a man here. Oh, shh, he's sleeping. STREET OUT FRONT (Police screech up) GARAGE CHRIS -- Oh no it's the police. It's the police. They must have found out I was fishing without a license. Here stuff these in your pants, mine are full. STREET COP#1 -- Irma Jane Cooley? This is the Greenville Police Department. The building is surrounded. Come out with your hands up. GARAGE CHRIS -- You know I am so sick an tired of people hassling poor innocent ex-cons at the drop of a hat. I'm going to give him a piece of my mind, jeeze. IRMA -- That won't be neccesary.(holds a gun to Chris's head) boyfriend. Hey you pigs. I got a hostage in here. Do anything stupid and I'll explode his head like a ripe cantalope. CHRIS -- Well yeah, that would be another way of handling it, sure..er, we could do it that way. You know honey, this is a great idea; pretending to hold me hostage. But you know what? I bet they know what I know, that you would never hurt me. IRMA -- Shut up, maggot. (hits him in the head with the gun) CHRIS -- Oooh. (laughs) Great play-acting dear. (laughs) Oh but you know what, I bet they can't see us throught the garage door. IRMA -- I told you to shut up. (hits him again) CHRIS -- Ah. Oh yes, I understand. "An actor never breaks character." Well maybe you better him me a couple more times then. (hits him two more times) Good. HOSTAGE SITE COP#1 -- Make it easy on yourself Irma, give up now. GARAGE IRMA -- I told you. Back off or jerkboy dies. CHRIS -- (giggles) HOSTAGE SITE COP#2 -- Who's jerkboy? COP#1 -- You know, that fifty year-old paperboy? COP#2 -- Oh, the bald one? Let her kill him, I hear he's an orphan. COP#1 -- Nah, he's got a couple of parents right here in town. COP#2 -- Damn. (Gus exits house. Cops open fire. Gus pulls a revolver and a massive shoot out begins) GUS -- It's Gus you imbiciles! COP#1 -- Hold you fire boys. Well if it ain't old Sgt. Psycho. How's it going compadre? GUS -- Jeeze Howie, take it easy with the ammo. You're chipping the new paint off the house. COP#1 -- Sorry Gus. It seems every crime in the tri-state area over the past week's been traced to that broad in your garage. GUS -- Yeah, no kiddin? What's the plan? COP#2 -- We're thinking tear gas. GUS -- Aw Burl, I've got venicent(?) curing in there. You know how tear gas stinks up my meat. How about mustard gas? That'll get 'em out in a hurry and it's damn tastey on dear too. COP#2 -- We ain't got any mustard gas. GUS -- Crap, the story of my life. SHARON -- (stops from jogging) Hello officers, what's all the commotion? COP#2 -- Nothing ma'am. Some dork newsboy is being held hostage by an armed and dangerous ex-con. SHARON -- Thank you god. GARAGE IRMA -- You know, I don't hear no one leaving. Maybe those bastards have got to see some of your blood flowing before they know I mean buisiness. CHRIS -- Oh well that's a good idea honey, visual aids are always effective. LIVING ROOM IRMA -- Listen up oinkers, here are my demands. A car with a civilian driver will take me and the chimp here to the airport where a private jet will be waiting to fly us to......Bolivia. CHRIS -- Oh ho ho great Bolivia! (claps) Ho boy, this is so much like the "Dating Game." Hey, we can visit the Hersey Chocolate Factory. IRMA -- Any trouble along the way and boyfriend here winds up in a can of Alpo. CHRIS -- Oh, oh for the love of Mike officers, please believe her. She's nuts, she's gonna....(snickers)...She's gonna kill me. (laughs) They're starting to buy it. I think they're starting to crumble. (laughs) HOSTAGE SITE COP#1 -- Go to hell. GUS -- (Irma breaks window to shoot) Hey, is it too much to ask for you to open a window when you want to shoot at us? Man! LIVING ROOM (everyone opens fire) CHRIS -- Hey, you know what honey? This might be a good time for me to debut my little love song that I wrote for you. (pulls out a guitar) I hope you like it. "Irma, oh Irma. You are my girlfriend. You're pretty and you smell like a girl. You've got the..." (Irma smashes the guitar to bits) Sorry, I didn't quite hit that last chord, did I? (laughs) Oh you know what sweets, I'll just take an eentsy weentsy bite of that. Composing always works up my appetite. Let me just have..... IRMA -- Buzz off! (Irma elbows Chris in the cranium) CHRIS -- Well sure honey...hey wait a second...wait. True lovers would actually share their candybars with each other, that must mean that we're not really true lovers and that must mean that I'm..I'm....Aaagh aagh Help I'm an actual hostage! I was joking before when I said she was going to kill me but I'm not joking now when I say "she's gonna kill me." Are you picking up the difference there? HOSTAGE SITE COP#1 -- Maybe we should call the newsboy's parents down to plead pathetically for their kid's life? All women are suckers for that crap right? COP#2 -- Beats me, I'm gay COP#1 -- Really? Me too. PETERSON KITCHEN (phone rings) FRED --Yeah what? COP -- Mr. Peterson? This is Captain Bectell of the Greenville Police department. I'm afraid I have some bad news for you. FRED -- Oh I knew it. GLADYS -- Who is it? FRED -- The cops. GLADYS -- Did she take him hostage? FRED -- What do you think? So what do you want us to do about it? HOSTAGE SITE COP -- Ah, we thought you and the Mrs. might come down and plead with her for your boy's life. Sometimes the sight of overwrought,weeping, crying loved ones parents can be quite effective. KITCHEN FRED -- We'll pass. HOSTAGE SITE COP -- But ah.. KITCHEN FRED -- Look buddy, if we jumped every time that kid was held hostage, we'd never have any lives of our own. GLADYS -- Better leave the phone off the hook, dear. Those policemen can be very pesky about these matters. FRED -- Good one, Gladys. GUS' LIVING ROOM CHRIS -- (crying) Oh please, please, please don't kill me. I'm too young and bloated to die. Think of all we meant to each other? IRMA -- You never meant anything more to me than any other mark. CHRIS -- Oh god, she doesn't even know my name. (crys) Hey Irma? What's that giant hairy giraffe doing over there? He's got a...(takes gun) Okay. Huh huh hu allright. Uh huh. Interesting turn of events, huh? (laughs) Yeah. Who's in the kitty litter box seat now, huh baby? That's right. The old switcheroo. The old ing-go bingo. The old flip flop-a-doodle. (laughs) I bet little Irma ain't so tough when the tables are turned, huh? (laughs) A little nervous? Huh? Huh? Probably, huh? Hm. Oh mama, I can't wait to see what it looks like when you start to beg. Hm. IRMA -- Give me that. (grabs gun away) CHRIS -- (falls to his knees sobbing) Please, don't kill me. I gladly do your bidding. Use me for your pleasure. Mm. Mmm (kiss kisses gun. pets gun) HOSTAGE SITE (Cops are playing cards) COP #2 -- Hey Captain, I've got my lodge meeting at seven, what do you say we wrap this thing up? COP #1 -- Well we tired everything Burl. Frankly I'm stumped. GUS -- Are you guys forgetting something? There used to be a guy on this force who was quite a marksman. COP#2 -- Yeah, yeah, that's right, that fat drunk guy.Who was that, again? GUS -- Me! COP#2 -- Yeah that's right. Gus was the best. Get me the high-powered rifle with the laser scope and the big exploding bullets. GUS -- Promise her anything she wants and when she exits the house I'll turn her off like a switch. COP#2 -- He's gonna kill 'er. COP#1 -- Okay Irma, you win. You've got the car, Bolivia, the works. (stifles laugh) GUS -- Say goodnight Gracie. (Gus shoots Chris) Damn, musta slipped. Sorry about that. (hits Chris) Now see, she made a move I wasn't expecting. SHARON -- Don't be so hard on yourself. You're doing fine. GUS -- (fires and hits Chris again) CHRIS -- Could you try alittle higher and if you can...to the left. GUS -- Fourth time is a charm. (shoots Chris twice more) I guess you really do need to practice to keep up the skill. (shootout begins) SHARON -- (get shot in the sneaker) That's it. This bitch is mine. GUS'S LIVING ROOM SHARON -- (Sharon storms in) I just bought these shoes. Prepare to die, slut. IRMA -- You're gonna kill me? Get real....Heloise. (Sharon and Irma do battle to "Mod Squad(?)" theme) CHRIS -- Aah ooh ooh oh oh oh ohah ladies please, please. Oh. Oh, no, girls, girls stop. Oh. I will not watch this. I will not look at this. No. that's.... Now that's childish. Somebody's gonna get hurt, now stop. Now let's not play games. Let's...oh...jeeze...oh ho hoo....no. HOSTAGE SITE GUS -- Are you deadbeats gonna let a woman do your work for you? COP#1 -- Sounds like she's got it under control, Gus. GUS -- Come on you babies. (They charge in yelling) GUS'S LIVING ROOM COP#1 -- I got her. I got her. SHARON -- Oh ga..... COP#1 -- Isn't this the one kid? CHRIS -- Ah..... yeah I think so. SHARON -- Chris! CHRIS -- Oh, oh no I'm, I'm sorry. No, when I hear her speak, no that's not her. Sorry, that's called hostage disorientation, I think. COP#1 -- Where's the other one? SHARON - Well, she got away, you idiots. You losers couldn't even hold on to the suspect after I subdued her for you. Do you realize how pathetic this makes you all look? COP#1 -- She's got a point. We better bring somebody in. I guess you're elected. SHARON -- What? CHRIS -- (laughs) Jeeze, it's funny how everything seems to work out okay in the end, isn't it? COP#1 -- It's a simple case of mistaken identity. By the time we learn in a couple of months we got the wrong broad, this whole affair will have blown over. SHARON -- I will sue you all, you brainless bastards! GUS -- Hey, I'm ah sorry I shot you so many times. CHRIS -- Yeah..(laughs) hey I forgot about that.... ho...(Chris falls dead.) (GUS switches on tv) TV -- Today's tense hostage situation thankfully resulted in only one death, 58 year-old moron paperboy Chris Peterson. Elsewhere in the news, Charo thrills a sold out house at the Greek theater.... THE END