UPPER CLASS MEN

A short screenplay by Jonathan Harris

(INTERIOR - Day - A beautifully appointed bath room on New York City's Upper East Side. Early Saturday morning after a huge party the night before. A woman is passed out in the tub. She is fully dressed in an inexpensive party dress. BRADLEY ENTERS: late twenties, good-looking, son of a prominent, conservative U.S. Senator. MARTIN ENTERS: (pronounced Marteen): late twenties, good-looking, Latin, effete. Both men are very wealthy and slightly hung-over. Bradley notices the woman in the tub.)

BRADLEY

Who's this?

MARTIN

No one probably. Knowing your friends.

BRADLEY

I've never seen her before.

MARTIN

A friend of Paolo's, I'd say, judging by the shoes. Paolo will go with anybody. He says he's immune to the inanity of the American lower classes. I have a news flash for Paolo.

BRADLEY

(nudges her with his foot)

You. Person. Wake up, please.

MARTIN

I will grant poor people a certain amusement, particularly from a distance, but, in my experience, no one is immune to the fried-food familiarity with which the American poor are singularly blessed. I need a shower.

(Martin turns on the shower)

That should do something.

BRADLEY

And something should be done.

MARTIN

(Speaking to the woman)

Wake up, Cinderella. Prince Charming is a ponce.

(They both look at her. No response.)

BRADLEY

She holds her water better than her hooch, I gather.

MARTIN

I think Paolo is a fairy.

BRADLEY

She's not moving.

MARTIN

Give it time.

BRADLEY

Paolo is too fashionable to be a fairy. Fairies are out. They haven't been in since Noel Coward drew breath. Even then they were only tolerated. Like bad servant's at a friend's party.

MARTIN

I find bad servants intolerable.

BRADLEY

I'm sure they feel the same toward you. Assuming they even have feelings. Which, judging by the scullery maid's daughter currently housed in my father's tub, is not a safe assumption.

MARTIN

No sign of life?

BRADLEY

Nary a twinge.

MARTIN

Perhaps she's dead.

BRADLEY

Perhaps she can't be dead. Perhaps we have a car coming in 30 minutes to take us to the Hamptons with the others. Perhaps father will be home in one hour.

MARTIN

And perhaps if your father finds me here again, he'll cut you off completely again.

BRADLEY

Perhaps she can't be dead.

MARTIN

Perhaps we find out.

(The both look very closely at her. CLOSE UP: Her drenched face. Very dead. Martin takes some tissues and, as if touching excrement, slowly raises her left arm. The body is stiff and quite devoid of life.)

Ring the servants.

BRADLEY

Why?

MARTIN

I need a drink.

BRADLEY

Is she dead?

MARTIN

Completely.

BRADLEY

(panicking)

WHAT? SHE CAN'T BE! SHE'S....I....I DON'T EVEN KNOW HER! MY FATHER IS...

MARTIN

A fat Senator who should be shot...

BRADLEY

NO! HE'S HOME! TODAY! NOW! SOON! WHAT? SHE CAN'T BE!

MARTIN

Please refrain from emotional self-indulgence until I've had a spot of vodka.

BRADLEY

You...are you sure? I mean...she might just be...well...you know....passed out! Something!

MARTIN

"Something" is the better bet.

BRADLEY

BUT I DON'T EVEN KNOW HER!

MARTIN

I've never seen a dead poor person. Are they all this wet, I wonder?

BRADLEY

(To himself)

Pause...breathe...don't panic...go to your quiet place...

(He sits on toilet, closes his eyes, breathes deeply. The phone in the bath room rings. Bradley screams)

MY GOD!

(He automatically picks up receiver)

Yes...?

MARTIN

(Looking at body)

I can see what Paolo saw in her.

BRADLEY

(On phone)

Darling...yes! Yes, we were just setting out.

MARTIN

Definitely cocksucker lips.

BRADLEY

Soon...soon. I have a...problem. No! Nothing serious...Just a...uh...stubbed toe...

MARTIN

And a dead whore.

BRADLEY

Soon, love. What? Why, yes, of course...see you then...la!

(Bradley hangs up phone)

God...

MARTIN

Who.

BRADLEY

Patricia. From her car.

MARTIN

And?

BRADLEY

They're wondering...

MARTIN

Yes?

BRADLEY

Could we bring more cocaine.

MARTIN

Always.

BRADLEY

Yes.

MARTIN

Now...

BRADLEY

Yes?

MARTIN

What to do with the...uh...

BRADLEY

Yes?

MARTIN

Yes.

(CLOSE UP: Woman's face. V/O:)

BRADLEY

What indeed.

CUT TO:

(Expensive throw rug being yanked off floor)

CUT TO:

(Over shoulder featuring Bradley speaking to maid)

BRADLEY

Yes, Consuelo...or...Caroline...or..yes...I mean, si! Whatever. We did have a party last night. Not that it's any of your business. Now, about the incinerator. I know we have one...or I assume we do...if you would be so kind as to show me where it is...there's this paper I'm writing, you see, where I have to refer to the particulars of....oh, why am I bothering with this...where's the blasted incinerator!

(Caroline/Consuelo moves off camera. Bradley follows.)

CUT TO:

(Martin in bath room mirror, shaving and humming a tune)

PAN TO:

(Body in tub. It's covered with throw rug. One arm and leg exposed. Bradley enters)

BRADLEY

I had no idea the kitchen help spoke no English.

MARTIN

They have little to say.

BRADLEY

Is she still dead?

MARTIN

(proud)

And buried.

BRADLEY

With my mother's East Indian?

MARTIN

It's a fake.

BRADLEY

So's mother.

MARTIN

That's why I thought it appropriate.

BRADLEY

(sits near tub)

I wonder who she was?

MARTIN

A climber, no doubt.

BRADLEY

Guess she slipped. Where's the coke?

MARTIN

(points)

Wipe your nose after.

(Martin glances at watch.)

You'd best get ready. We have ten minutes till the car arrives.

BRADLEY

(snorting coke)

He'll have to wait. It's a long way to the incinerator.

MARTIN

The what?

BRADLEY

The incinerator. We'll pop her down and be off.

MARTIN

"Pop her down"? You lost me.

BRADLEY

We pick her up, roll her in, and pop her down. Simple.

MARTIN

We're not leaving?

BRADLEY

After we...you know...pop.

MARTIN

One problem.

BRADLEY

Yes?

MARTIN

Your use of "we". I'll be in the car.

(Martin starts to exit)

BRADLEY

You said you'd help!

MARTIN

And I did. She didn't drag that fake East Indian in here by herself, you know.

BRADLEY

We can't leave her like this.

MARTIN

Why not?

BRADLEY

You are insufferable! I can see the headlines: POOR PERSON'S BODY FOUND IN RICH SENATOR'S TUB! Lovely.

MARTIN

What's that to do with me?

BRADLEY

Everything! You're involved.

MARTIN

Not anymore. I'll be in the car.

BRADLEY

But you touched her! You covered her with the rug! You have to help!

MARTIN

You're over-reacting. Where I come from this sort of thing is as commonplace as terrorism.

BRADLEY

And hepatitis?

(Martin freezes)

MARTIN

You wouldn't...

BRADLEY

Wouldn't I?

(Bradley picks up phone and pretends conversation)

...yes, hello, Patricia? How's the trip going, la? Good...good. Yes, we're just heading out now. Just as soon as Martin takes his AZT...Oh, you didn't know? Fancy that! Yes, he is. Has been for years now. Which means, of course, so are you. Along with half the eastern seaboard...

(Bradley looks at Martin)

...try me...

MARTIN

(pause)

I'll take the feet.

CUT TO:

(LONG SHOT - They are awkwardly carrying body through the hall)

CUT TO:

(CLOSE UP: Martin struggling.)

MARTIN

Wipe your nose.

CUT TO:

(LONG SHOT - Bradley drops head with a thump. Wipes his nose with tissue. Picks up body. They continue.)

CUT TO: incinerator

MARTIN

Then Patricia said to Allan that if he ever wrote her again she'd have him arrested.

BRADLEY

Like it'd be the first time.

(They lift her head first into incinerator)

MARTIN

I hear he slapped her around.

BRADLEY

Of course, he did. This is Patricia we're talking about.

(The body, now free from Bradley's grasp, slips easily into the incinerator with a slight push from Martin.)

BRADLEY

No! WAIT!

MARTIN

What?

BRADLEY

Mother's East Indian!

(CUT TO: Interior - back seat of limousine Bradley and Martin sit far apart. They seem sullen, possibly remorseful. Pause)

BRADLEY

Martin?

MARTIN

Yes?

BRADLEY

Do you think she was Jewish?

(They look at each other for a moment then begin laughing)

CUT TO: Exterior - day - Limo driving down 5th Avenue in light traffic)

DISSOLVE