Damn you — I’ll kill you.
She starts throwing stones. He laughs,
blasts up the path–
You prick! Are you sick?! Is
this some kind of ritual —
getting your kicks! How many
girls have you done this to?
He blazes up the embankment, SAILS
through the air, drops expertly onto the
road. He fishtails to a slick stop.
Vanity is by the lake, flailing about,
throwing things, trying to get into her
He laughs heartily, wants to kid her,
rides down the road as if he’s leaving.
Having his fun, he slows, turns to go
…his smile dissolves instantly.
Vanity is in the middle of the road,
flagging down a small PICKUP TRUCK. She
hops in, slams the door. The truck
peels out, bears down upon him. He
gesticulates his arms wildly — wants
But the truck streaks past — Vanity’s
look is cold, triumphant.
(30) INT. CLUB (1ST AVE. ST. BAR) — NIGHT
MUSIC. The CLUB is PACKED! THE MODERN