Oral Office Update

ORAL OFFICE UPDATE
or...
the Arkansas Hillbillies

Arkansas Hillbillies Theme -- to the tune of the Flat/Scrugs Beverly Hillbillies theme...

Let me tell you story 'bout a man named Bill
Arkansas Gov who liked cheap sex and pills
Then one day he was looking for some poon
And a phone call came from Carville and his goons
"You can get that nomination. For President, that is....
A Democrat. In Washington DC"

The kinfolk said, "Bill, get your ass in gear
There's toilets, running water, and a fridge that's full of beer"
They said "inside the beltway is the place you oughta be"
So they pulled in lotsa favors and moved to old DC
Washington, that is...
Movie stars...cocaine bars...

The Arkansas Hillbillies!

(banjo riff)

Go to INT, White House. CLINTON coming down the stairs dressed like a hillbilly. He hollers out...

CLINTON: Hey Chelsea -- you done laundered that money yet?

CHELSEA: (hollering back) Almost, Pa!

Hillbilly CLINTON enters an enormous livingroom space where freshly-washed, still-wet, dripping money is hanging from a clothesline. CHELSEA is pinning up more, taking bills from an old washtub...

CHELSEA: (wiping back her hair) I reckon that about does it, Pa.
CLINTON: I surely do appreciate it.
CHELSEA: Pa...how come folks got a problem with what we's doing? I heard on the television set some folks think laudering money's bad!
CLINTON: Wellllll....I don't know about that, Hon. Way I see it, I reckon we gotta keep it clean. Specially with this here investigation. Old Ken Starr can get mighty peculiar.
HILLARY: (coming down stairs) Ken Starr -- that varmint! Don't even name that goldurned name in my house! Somebody oughta investigate him!
CLINTON: Don't get all het up, Hillary. I reckon he's just doing his job.
HILLARY: And I reckon he ain't. Trying his level best to put you in the pokey when all's you're trying to do is make this a decent country for hardworking ordinary people! Going after you when there's real corporate crime that needs a good investigator -- and Michael Moore cain't do everything, now can he?
CLINTON: No, I reckon he cain't.
HILLARY: Somebody especially oughta investigate them newfangled HMOs what's done a foul deed to plenty of sick folk and all what need good doctoring and some of my medicine -- but that ain't none of Ken Starr's concern! (holding up fist) I oughta give him some of this medicine.
CLINTON: Now Hillary...
HILLARY: Now Hillary nothing! You can sit here jawing all you want. I'm fixing to go out and tend to some sick folks in sore need of my ministrations! Somebody's got to do something, and you ain't gonna stop me.
CLINTON: I wouldn't dream to try.

She storms out.

CHELSEA: She's a regular Florence Nightingale, ain't she Pa?
CLINTON: (shaking head in admiration) She is at that. She is at that.


Cut to EXT, starfield. We hear a low, throbbing, thrumming noise due to the assholic convention of sound in the vacuum of space. A metallic sphere emerges into view: it looks like the Death Star out of Star Wars. It comes closer. In one quadrant, an enormous crack'n'peel label announces "VAST RIGHT WING CONSPIRACY." Underneath, in smaller letters: "your ad here."


Go to: earth. EXT, rooftop. MINISTER FARRAKHAN squinting through a battered Tasco telescope.

FARRAKHAN: Goddamnit, I knew it! It's the cracker flying saucer! How come nobody believed me 'bout the cracker flying saucer?


INT: cavernous imperial audience chamber inside the VAST RIGHT WING CONSPIRACY STAR. NEWT, STARR and SCAIFE enter. The enormous, shimmering holographic form of Nixon's face appears before them. They kneel before their undead Emperor...

SCAIFE: (in Darth Vader costume) We await your bidding, O master.


Back to Earth--

INT, hospital room. HILLARY leaning over a hospital bed where LOUISE (the one from the HARRY and LOUISE insurance commercials) lies suffering. Soap opera organ music through the whole bit...

HILLARY: Anythin' I cin do for you, hon?
LOUISE: How can you even help me...
HILLARY: Eh, fergit it -- what's done's done and I ain't studying the past. Them companies didn't do right by you but I reckon I can.
LOUISE: You're an angel. (coughing) How's... (coughing) How's...
HILLARY: How's Harry?
LOUISE: (nodding)
HILLARY: Harry's going to.... Harry's going to be just fine, darling.
LOUISE: You're a (coughing) bad liar...Hillary.
HILLARY: Goldurn it I ain't gonna stand for it! I'll make sure you get doctored up! And Harry too!
LOUISE: You can't. (coughing) No one can. The insurance companies. The HMOs. You tried...
HILLARY: Then, by thunder, I'll try again! I'll do it, Louise -- any which ways I can!

LOUISE looks up at her. Tearful. Grateful. Near death.

Firey, militant determination clamps down on HILLARY's face...

She squeezes LOUISE's hand.


Back to our crew on the VRWCS --

NIXON: ...example of him. He fucked with insurance. Nobody fucks with insurance. Nobody. That's the fucking third rail and he touched it and now he must pay. Clinton must be destroyed.
SCAIFE: We will destroy him, O Master.
NIXON: Dig for dirt. Throw some money at some hungry reporter on that American Spectator of yours. Keep throwing shit until some of it sticks...
SCAIFE: Yes, O Master.
NIXON: Today we shall see the democratic rebellion crushed for the...

Beeping noise.

NIXON: Our total domination of the...

More obnoxious beeping. NIXON stops talking.

We still hear the beeping noise. It's some gadget in NEWT's pocket.

Everybody turns to look at him, including the enormous and enormously displeased disembodied sepulchral head of NIXON. NEWT's desperately fishing in his pockets to find the beeping gadget...

NEWT: Uh...sorry.


Earth. EXT, city streets. Lone man running...

FARRAKHAN: (running through the streets) Watch the skies! Watch the skies!


INT, White House bedroom. CLINTON and HILLARY in bed, morphing out of hillbilly mode back to their, uh, normal selves. CLINTON has a shocked expression on his face...

CLINTON: What do you mean no more nookie?

HILLARY: Not until you deal with health care.

CLINTON: But Hon...we tried that, remember? Try it again, they'll carve me a new asshole. Another one. (he shifts uncomfortably)

HILLARY: That's your problem.

CLINTON: Can't you just...

Abruptly, she turns away from him, her back an S-curve, the bumps of her spine like the ridges of a frozen mountain range, impossible, impassible. Clinton reaches out to touch her.

CLINTON: How 'bout just a massage, then?

He strokes her back. Electric sparks shoot out. He jerks his hand away.

CLINTON: Owwwww.....


The next day, EXT Washington DC. CLINTON in the Presidential limo. His driver is driving randomly around the beltway while CLINTON sits in the back, pouting, enmired the depths of sexual deprivation. He looks to the left, he looks to the right. Wherever he looks, everything seems sexual...

The Jefferson Monument. Very tit-like.

The Capitol dome. Owww.....

Washington Monument. Like an enormous, thrusting...

All those bursting cherries along the Potomoc.

He returns to the White House. SOCKS looks at him. CLINTON looks back. Smiles. SOCKS runs...


Go to: INT, White House bathroom. CLINTON taking cold shower...

CLINTON: Owww.....owwwwwwww.....goddamnit, oww. Cold showers my ass! This is supposed to work but is sure as hell ain't. Oww....


INT: hotel room. The Whitewater investigation team buried under a mountain of paper...

STARR: I can't believe this! He itemized the paperclips! Every last one of them!
FLUNKY: We've got to find something....
STARR: Then do it, OK? Do I have to do everything, people?


Go to: CLINTON in conference with JANET RENO.

RENO: ...may say you can't afford the budget for any more killer robots, but I can't afford to lose any more of my people.

CLINTON: (staring at her dreamy-eyed) Janet?

RENO: Sir?

CLINTON: Anyone ever tell you you've got beautiful eyes?

She looks at him. Blinks. Punches the shit out of him.


Go to black-eyed CLINTON at breakfast table, pouring mounds of saltpeter on his breakfast cereal, crunchingly eating it...


Go to, INT, Whitewater investigation team in a deeper avalanche of paper...

FLUNKY: I'm afraid she did send thank-you cards.
STARR: Dingdong darn it! Throw somebody in jail or something. A woman or somebody who's dying. And harrass a journalist while you're at it...
FLUNKY: Yes sir.
STARR: (storming out) I'm having a very bad day, people!


INT, darkened parking garage. STARR storming along in a funk...

MYSTERIOUS VOICE: Follow the pussy.

STARR: (stopping) Excuse me?

LINDA TRIPP steps out of the shadows.

LINDA: I said follow the pussy. It's all about pussy.

STARR: Get away from me!

LINDA: (grabbing him by the lapels) It's all about pussy, you little pussy -- don't you know that?

STARR: You're scaring me!

LINDA: You want the President? Clinton's a dick -- wanna catch a dick? Find the pussy. Follow the pussy.

She lets go of one of his lapels, reaches into the folds of her trenchcoat, pulls out a tape and hands it to STARR. He takes it reluctantly...

STARR: Now let me go!

LINDA grabs him by both lapels again, forces him back against a wall, puts her hideously lined, Margaret Dumontish face close to his. STARR recoils...

LINDA: Wanna have some fun?

STARR: No!

He breaks free and runs.

LINDA: Run away, little man! Run away! Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! (turning directly towards the camera and clutching a wicked witch hand at us) AH-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!

She whirls around and disappears in a puff of green smoke...


INT, office. NEWT and STARR in conference.

STARR: ...course I said, no way, honey, not this sailor. No way jose' I'm going to...

NEWT: (thoughtfully fiddling with LINDA's tape) Shut up.

STARR: Excuuuuse me?

NEWT: Maybe she's got something.

STARR: May-be.

NEWT: (twisted light glowing in his face) It's crazy, totally crazy. (pounding desk with fist) It's so crazy it just might work!


Go to INT, darkened corridor, White House -- just outside the President's private study.
MONICA walks out and softly shuts the door, a cat-that-ate the-canary expression on her face. But is it Monica? Is it really?

Mission Impossible theme...

She reaches a hand to her face. Pulls off a latex mask. And we see that it's really...

NEWT GINGRICH!

...his face a mask of lizardlike disgust. He runs to the nearest bathroom, collapses at the sink. NEWT spits out Presidential semen. Enormous quantities....

NEWT: Arrrghhh! Geh....

Desperately, frantically, he washes mouth out with every available bathroom cleanser he can find. KEN STARR enters the room.

NEWT: (brushing teeth with toilet brush) The things I do for the grand old party...

STARR: Newtie...

NEWT: What?

STARR: I've got some, well, bad news, OK?

NEWT turns, murderously. Says nothing.

STARR: Our little surveillance system?

NEWT: What about it?

STARR: Belly up.

NEWT: Belly up?

STARR: It's just...you know. (fluttering hands) Static! Static! Static! Snow! Snow! Snow!

NEWT: Nothing?

STARR: Nothing.

NEWT spits.

STARR: Let's just say I hope we're still under warranty...

Silence.

STARR: So are we up for a retake?

NEWT glares at him with pure hatred. Throws STARR the Monica-mask -- right into his gut like a medicine ball.

NEWT: You do it.


Go to INT, corridor, White House. Again, what looks like MONICA emerges from the Oval Office. Again, she reaches a hand to her face. Pulls off a latex mask. Mission Imposible theme. And we see that it's really...

KEN STARR!

STARR: (licking lips) Actually that wasn't so bad.


Go to basement. STARR hunched over TV monitor. He pops in a VHS tape titled "PRESIDENTIAL NAUGHTY BITS." NEWT, meanwhile, is lying on an army cot nursing an extremely painful coldsore. STARR hits play. Stares. Rolls eyes.

STARR: Problems!

NEWT: Arrgghhh.

NEWT looks. Somehow, unbelievably, it's a tape of Sesame Street...

KERMIT: Hi-ho! Kermit-the-frog here! And I'm still here...

NEWT: Arrrrggghhhhhhh!

Suddenly, the TV shuts off. NIXON's face appears, a ten foot shimmering hologram.

STARR: Oh. Lord Nixon. I was just...

NIXON: You have failed me for the last time.

STARR: (reacting to some invisible psychic force) Ow.

NIXON: Now listen to me, Newt.

STARR: (folding legs knock-kneed together) Owwww...you're hurting me!

NIXON: I have obtained for you a complete set of vintage dirty tricks from Operation Mongoose. Spanish Fly bon-bons. Cuban cigars dipped in pheremones. An amazing assortment of bizare pornography, not to mention cheeseburgers...

STARR thuds to the floor.

NIXON: Your feeble efforts need not go to waste. At least you've made him want her.

STARR: My little Mary hurts!

NIXON: Now it is simply a matter of bringing them together. My dirty tricks should be enough...

NEWT: (bowing) Yes, my Lord.

NIXON: But -- just in case -- we'll shut down the government and bring them to a crisis point. We'll make sure they find each other -- part of the team, understaffed, making sacrifices, shoulder to shoulder, both in it together against the world. And both extremely horny.

NEWT: Yes, my Lord.

NEWT bows, deeply reverent, eyes closed -- then open -- as he notices he's sitting with his knees in the puddle of urine leaking out from KEN STARR...


Go to, INT, CLINTON in staff meeting with Presidential interns, MONICA included, all of whom (though this may be a sex-starved distortion of Presidential perception) seem to be female and beautiful, none of whom seem to be wearing bras. It's day one of the governmental shut-down and he's just given them a peptalk.

CLINTON: ...assume additional duties. You up for it?

ALL OF THEM: (breathlessly) Yes, Mister President.

CLINTON blinks, pops a Spanish Fly bon-bon in his mouth, chews slowly, blinks again. All the women seem to be naked. He chews thoughtfully...

MONICA: Could I have one of those, Mister President? I think I want to put something in my mouth right now...

He smiles, hands her one. MONICA takes it. Slowly puts it in her mouth. Slowly, slowly chews. The other women shoot her dirty looks. One puffs up her mouth full of air, miming "No wonder she's fat." But CLINTON sees none of that. He's just chewing, chewing, chewing. MONICA does the same. They're in oral synch together...

CLINTON looks at MONICA; MONICA looks at him. Thick sexual tension. Rapid Tom Jonesish crosscutting of kissylip moues, winks, tonguelicks...

CLINTON: (getting up from the table, stretching) Well, ladies. I'd like to thank y'all for com-com-com...for being here, but I guess that's it, y'all can go. Me? (loudly) Guess I'll take me a stroll back to windowless hallway adjacent to my study in the south south-west quadrant of the White House in approximately 7 minutes.


And so it begins...


THEN:

MARILYN MONROE singing seductively....

MARILYN: Happy birthday, Mr. President. Happy birthday to you.

NOW:

MONICA: Can I suck your dick?

CLINTON leans back his head. Groaning....

CLINTON: Must...preserve...precious...bodily...fluids....


As in Porky's, NEWT and STARR have drilled a peephole into the White House and are peering in...

STARR: Ohmygod that's just awful.
NEWT: Let me see.
STARR: Ohmygod.


And so it goes on...


INT, Oval Office

ARAFAT walks into Oval Office. Sees CLINTON with fly open, dick hanging out.

ARAFAT: (Cornholio accent) Oh. A thousand apologies, affendi. Is this the customary greeting in your country?

He unzips his own fly -- but CLINTON shoves him out.

ARAFAT: Owww! The zeeeeeper!

Slams door.

CLINTON: (to Monica) Alone at last.

ARAFAT: (through the walls) Aieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

CLINTON: We have so much in common. I love Fleetwood Mac.

ARAFAT: Bactine! Someone bring me the bactine!

MONICA: And I love Fleetwood Mac.

ARAFAT: No, not rubbing alcohol you fool!

CLINTON: I've got plastic hair.

MONICA: And so do I!

They both smile wickedly. Clinch. Tongue-kiss. She slides down...

ARAFAT: Aieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!

CLINTON: Wanna see my Southern strategy? (he slides down)

MONICA: No, no, no...it's my time.

CLINTON: (sliding back up) My you were raised right. But I see a way out of this, kiddo.

He reaches into a humidor stuffed with illegal, imported Cuban cigars -- thinks better of it -- reaches into another cheapo cigarbox and pulls out a White Owl...

The camera discretely pans to the window where ARAFAT is running around screaming in the Rose Garden...



Go to EXT, White House corridor. STARR and NEWT crouched down in the shadows. STARR peering in through the peephole...

STARR: Ohmygod that's just awful.
NEWT: Let me see.
STARR: Ohmygod, ohmygod.


And on....


INT, Oval Office. CLINTON and MONICA sit naked before a pentagram. Candles burn.

CLINTON: ...faust, aleph, null -- and let "do what thou wilt be the whole of the law!"

The candles flare. CLINTON turns, smiling charmingly to MONICA.

CLINTON: Anyways that's how we summon Satan back where I come from...

MONICA: Geez, Mr. President. You really know so much.

CLINTON: (looking at watch) Oh my word...the prayer breakfast. Gotta go, kiddo.

He runs out -- then runs back in for his pants and runs out again.


EXT, White House corridor. STARR peering through the peephole. NEWT still trying to get a chance...

STARR: Ohmygod that's just awful.
NEWT: Let me see.
STARR: Ohmygod, ohmygod look what they're doing.
NEWT: GImme.
STARR: Ohmygod this is...you wouldn't believe.
NEWT: (fumbling, trying to push STARR away) My turn!
STARR: If you only...oh no...oh nooo...this is priceless....this is really...

He stops. Something's occured to him....

STARR: I wonder how much people would pay to see this?

Someone taps him on the shoulder. BILL GATES.

GATES: How's about we find out? Call me Mr. Computers or Mr. MSNBC but whatever you do...call me. (smiling like a cyborg Cheshire cat) Because I really need content and I really think we can do this...together.

Cardsharplike, he hands them a business card.

STARR reaches for it. NEWT rips it out of his hand.

GATES: I love you people.

He smiles. NEWT smiles. STARR turns back to the peephole.

STARR: Ohmygod....

And so it goes on. The growing scandal. Throbbing just below the surface ready to burst at any moment...

INT, White House hallway outside the President's office. Two SECRET SERVICE AGENTS just standing there like beefeaters. Monolithic. Impassive.

MONICA walks by holding a pizza. Goes into President's office...

Next day...

MONICA walks by holding a sack of food from McDonalds.

Next day...

MONICA walks by with takeout from Long John Silver's.

GUARD #1: Something's up.

GUARD #2: You got that right.

Go to: INT, Oval Office...

MONICA and CLINTON sitting together, munching down on Taco Supremes...salsa packets and sacks from Taco Bell scattered recklessly across the room.

CLINTON: Goddamn this is better than sex.

MONICA: (mouth full) Uh-hmmm.

CLINTON: Goddamn it, I'm the President and I can eat anything I want! To hell with cholesterol! Never say diet!

MONICA: (pointing) Mmmm-mmm.

CLINTON: Oh. Here you go, kiddo.

He hands her a packet of salsa.

MONICA: Mm-ooo.

CLINTON: You're welcome.

(They continue munching...in hog heaven)

And then comes President's Day...

MONICA bursts into the hallway. CLINTON follows.

MONICA: You bastard!

CLINTON: I'm sorry, kiddo...

MONICA: My name's not kiddo!

CLINTON: Just the thought of honest Abe and little George Washington and the cherry tree. I just cain't...

MONICA: There's somebody else!

CLINTON: Hillary?

MONICA: I mean somebody else else.

CLINTON: There's nobody else else. (noticing the Secret Service agents) Oh. Hello, boys. Heh-heh.

AGENTS: Hello, Mister President.

CLINTON: Just a little old Christmas pageant we're rehearsing. Page 52.

AGENTS: Yes, Mister President.

CLINTON: Ain't that right, kiddo. I mean, Miss...

MONICA: And to think I supersized you!

She runs out weeping.

CLINTON: Great job, kid! Thumbs up! That was totally convincing.

He goes back inside the office.

Go to: NEWT and STARR in some conspiratorial office cube.


NEWT: Are we ready?

STARR: I feel like a Jr. G-Man.

NEWT: Are we ready?

STARR: Herbert Hoover was one of my role models, you know.

NEWT: Goddamnit...are we ready yes or no?

STARR: We're ready yes and no.

NEWT: Argghhhhh....

STARR: See...ever since you broke the surveillance camera, well, we don't have the smoking gun, so to speak...

NEWT: But we've got the tape.

STARR: The tape. Oh the tape.

NEWT: Oh yeah.

STARR: Linda's tape.

NEWT: That's the one.

STARR: I just forgot all about that...

NEWT pops the tape in a tape recorder. Hits play.

COOKIE MONSTER: C is for cookie...that's good enough for me! C is for cookie...that's good enough for me!

NEWT: Arrgghhhh!

COOKIE MONSTER: Cookie, cookie, cookie starts with C!

STARR: Well I guess we'll just have to get another one, won't we?

NEWT smashes the tape recorder.

I am your father search your feelings you know it to be true.

And so it goes on. The growing scandal. Throbbing just below the surface ready to burst at any moment...

INT, White House hallway outside the President's office. Two SECRET SERVICE AGENTS just standing there like beefeaters. Monolithic. Impassive.

MONICA walks by holding a pizza. Goes into President's office...

Next day...

MONICA walks by holding a sack of food from McDonalds.

Next day...

MONICA walks by with takeout from Long John Silver's.

GUARD #1: Something's up.

GUARD #2: You got that right.

Go to: INT, Oval Office...

MONICA and CLINTON sitting together, munching down on Taco Supremes...salsa packets and sacks from Taco Bell scattered recklessly across the room.

CLINTON: Goddamn this is better than sex.

MONICA: (mouth full) Uh-hmmm.

CLINTON: Goddamn it, I'm the President and I can eat anything I want! To hell with cholesterol! Never say diet!

MONICA: (pointing) Mmmm-mmm.

CLINTON: Oh. Here you go, kiddo.

He hands her a packet of salsa.

MONICA: Mm-ooo.

CLINTON: You're welcome.


And then comes President's Day...

MONICA bursts into the hallway. CLINTON follows.

MONICA: You bastard!

CLINTON: I'm sorry, kiddo...

MONICA: My name's not kiddo!

CLINTON: Just the thought of honest Abe and little George Washington and the cherry tree. I just cain't...

MONICA: There's somebody else!

CLINTON: Hillary?

MONICA: I mean somebody else else.

CLINTON: There's nobody else else. (noticing the Secret Service agents) Oh. Hello, boys. Heh-heh.

AGENTS: Hello, Mister President.

CLINTON: Just a little old Christmas pageant we're rehearsing. Page 52.

AGENTS: Yes, Mister President.

CLINTON: Ain't that right, kiddo. I mean, Miss...

MONICA: And to think I supersized you!

She runs out weeping.

CLINTON: Great job, kid! Thumbs up! That was totally convincing.

He goes back inside the office.

Go to: NEWT and STARR in some conspiratorial office cube.


NEWT: Are we ready?

STARR: I feel like a Jr. G-Man.

NEWT: Are we ready?

STARR: Herbert Hoover was one of my role models, you know.

NEWT: Goddamnit...are we ready yes or no?

STARR: We're ready yes and no.

NEWT: Argghhhhh....

STARR: See...ever since you broke the surveillance camera, well, we don't have the smoking gun, so to speak...

NEWT: But we've got the tape.

STARR: The tape. Oh the tape.

NEWT: Oh yeah.

STARR: Linda's tape.

NEWT: That's the one.

STARR: I just forgot all about that...

NEWT pops the tape in a tape recorder. Hits play.

COOKIE MONSTER: C is for cookie...that's good enough for me! C is for cookie...that's good enough for me!

NEWT: Arrgghhhh!

COOKIE MONSTER: Cookie, cookie, cookie starts with C!

STARR: Well I guess we'll just have to get another one, won't we?

NEWT smashes the tape recorder.

LINDA TRIPP appears in a puff of smoke...

LINDA: That can be arranged, my pretties. That can be arranged. Ahahaha. AHAHAHAHAHA!

STARR: Make her stop!

NEWT: God, what a woman.


INT, Oval Office. CLINTON kneeling in prayer.

CLINTON: Carter committed adultery in his heart -- and thinking's the same as doing it? The Clinton corrollary: as far as I'm concerned, I didn't do it, besides which I repent, so I don't think I'm gonna do it anymore, and that's the same as not doing it. And I defy you to list me one passage in Your Holy Word dealing with blow-jobs as adultery or defining sex qua sex. Just one...hmmm? I didn't think so. Amen.


INT, MONICA and LINDA at breakfast table. LINDA stirring tea. The spoon dissolves. MONICA doesn't notice.

LINDA: Tea?

MONICA: Oh. Like thanks.

LINDA slides the tea to MONICA who lifts it up, sips it.

MONICA: Mmmm...

LINDA: It's tannis root.

MONICA: Is that, like, organic?

LINDA: Eee-heee-heee...something like that.

MONICA: (sipping) You're really something special, Linda.

LINDA: Eh-heh-heee. Thanks, dearie.

MONICA: Thank God I gotta friend in this goddamn town, y'know?

LINDA: (wincing at the word "God") Yessss. Apple?

She hands MONICA an apple. MONICA takes it. Starts to bite.

LINDA: No, no, no...the OTHER side, yesss. It's so much...sweeter...eh-heh-heh...

MONICA, obediantly, rotates the apple, bites from the other side.

LINDA: That's it. Eat, my dear. Eat.....

MONICA: (chatty, chum to chum, talking with a mouth full of apple) Have you ever like cared about somebody but they don't like care about you? Or maybe, like, they care, but they don't, like, show it? Or maybe they're just, like, using you?

LINDA: Mmmhmmmm. (leaning forward, conspiratorial) Anyone I know?

MONICA: As if! Like if you knew you'd just like...you'd be all like, no way!

LINDA: Try me.

MONICA: Yeah. I mean no. I mean, like, I wanna tell you, but, like, I said I wouldn't and a promise is a promise.

LINDA: But a friend is a friend. It's not the same as telling someone else if you tell it to me, my pretty.

MONICA: OK. So...

We hear a loud, audible CLICK.

MONICA: What was that?

LINDA: Nothing, nothing. Just my...guess I'm just an old lady and I'm having a little problem with my pipes, dearie. You will excuse me?

MONICA: Anyth...

LINDA: I'll be all right.

INT, bathroom. LINDA removes microcassette recorder from her snatch. Opens it, reverses tape.

LINDA: Goddamnit, I KNEW I should've gotten the auto-reverse. That's what I get for being a penny pincher...

She slides it back in. Returns....

LINDA: Much better. You were saying?

MONICA: Try the P...

LINDA: Just a minute.

LINDA spreads her legs.

LINDA: Ah. That's better....


EXT, MONICA's apartment. LINDA heading out the door. MONICA saying goodbye. She seems grateful...

LINDA: Now, remember what I told you! He needs to make a commitment.

MONICA: God you're such a friend.

LINDA: Just trying to help, dearie.


CLINTON: Hey...you doing anything tonight? Aw...you know I care about you...I'm thinking about you all the time, why do you think I'm calling? So I'm just thinking if you're not doing anything, you want to come over, kiddo? Maybe we could do something. Maybe we could try something new. I'm thinking, like, y'know...you ever suborned purjury before?