Post by paramour on Jun 18, 2014 19:42:00 GMT -5
INT. SD26 - MANHATTAN - AFTERNOON
The upscale restaurant is relatively crowded for a Wednesday afternoon. Quiet chatter fills the air as patrons enjoy their lunch and the quality service that a competitive marketplace in New York City demands.
Seated alone at a table is IAN CROUCH, a columnist for New Yorker magazine. He watches the front entrance in anticipation of his lunch guest, not knowing exactly what to expect. The "Metropolitan Mistress" is how she had come to be known, and more recently, a less dignified moniker had been cast upon her-- simply "The Paramour."
Suddenly, she appears. Black dress, dark hair and stunning eyes. PRISCILLA PRICE stops at the front reception and after an exchange of words, is pointed in the direction of Ian. Priscilla makes her way to the table, and Ian rises to greet her.
PRISCILLA PRICE: Please, don't get up. I am terribly sorry I am late. You know how traffic can me coming from Soho.
IAN CROUCH: Do not worry about it. I am happy you agreed to meet with me. I am Ian Crouch.
The two exchange pleasantries and have a seat.
IAN CROUCH: So Ms. Price--
PRISCILLA PRICE: Please, call me Priscilla.
IAN CROUCH: Okay Priscilla. I am interested in writing a piece on you, you know, given your back story in this area, and in light of your sudden announcement that you are planning to enter the professional wrestling industry. That seems a little...
Ian is at a loss for the right words. Priscilla blushes.
PRISCILLA PRICE: Surprising? I guess I know what you mean. My announcement did seem to come out of nowhere. But there is a lot about me that the public does not know. I believe that I have received a very bad rap in the news. I mean, "The Metropolitan Mistress" and "The Paramour?" Really?
IAN CROUCH: Well in all fairness, Priscilla, are you not the woman who came to light for breaking up more than three dozen marriages.
Ian holds his breath. He doesn't know what kind of response to expect, and he braces himself for a tongue-lashing.
PRISCILLA PRICE: Ah, the media. You know better than anyone that you can't believe what you read.
IAN CROUCH: Are you saying that those pieces were not true.
PRISCILLA PRICE: What I am saying is that yes, I have had some back luck with me, but to call me a home wrecker? That seems a little harsh. I went into each and every one of those relationships with the best of intentions.
Priscilla reaches across the table and puts her hand on Ian's hand-- the hand with the wedding band.
PRISCILLA PRICE: It just seems like all the best men are taken.
An awkward moment of silence creeps in as Ian gulps uncomfortably, and begins to become flush. After a moment, Priscilla breaks the silence by breaking into laughter.
PRISCILLA PRICE: I am just kidding, Ian. But honestly, I am not as bad as those pieces make me out to be.
IAN CROUCH: So the stories that you have been seducing married men at the bidding of well known divorce attorney Marty Sunshine are unfounded?
PRISCILLA PRICE: Marty and I go back a long way. We're friends. We've done business together. He has a tremendous mind, and he is going to be my mentor as I enter unchartered territory in Ladies All-Star Wrestling. But Ian, you make it sound like a conspiracy of epic proportions.
IAN CROUCH: But why wrestling? What qualifications do you have to enter into combat sports.
Priscilla takes a deep breath.
PRISCILLA PRICE: Ian, I need a make over. I have been depicted so poorly in the press that I cannot walk down the street without the stares and the whispers. I need to show the world that I am more than a girl who makes poor decisions when it comes to men.
IAN CROUCH: Well they all seem to have a common denominator, in that they all seem to be rich, unhappy and marrr--
Priscilla politely cuts him off.
PRISCILLA PRICE: To answer your second questions concerning my qualifications, I will say two things. First, this is not my initial introduction to the industry. As you journalists like to point out every time you decide to write about me, I was a former valet a few years back to a wrestler by the name of Damian Cole--
IAN CROUCH: Valet? That's an interesting way to put it-- my records suggest that you were having an affair with him while his wife was pregnant with their second child.
PRISCILLA PRICE: You know, Ian, it is not very becoming of you to take potshots at a man like Damian Cole when he is not here to defend himself. Anyway, during our time doing business together, we were able to spend a lot of time grappling--
IAN CROUCH: Is that what you're calling it these days--
PRISCILLA PRICE: And he taught me a lot. Second, because of the damage to my reputation caused by this media-created scandal, I have found myself over the last several years the victim of multiple affronts by women claiming that I have destroyed their marriage-- as if I have the power to do that. As a result, I have spent the last several years training various forms of self defense-- particularly boxing and the martial arts, and I feel that I--
Suddenly, Priscilla is interrupted by a pretty woman, blond, mid 30's. The woman is a little shaky, but undeterred in her confrontation.
WOMAN: Excuse me, Ms. Price?
Priscilla gives her most polite smile.
PRISCILLA PRICE: Yes?
The woman smacks Priscilla right across the face, causing quite a scene. All of the chatter from the neighboring tables comes to a halt, as all eyes are fixed on Priscilla and the woman.
WOMAN: That's for sleeping with my husband!
PRISCILLA PRICE: Your husband? I'm sorry, you're gonna have to be a little more specific.
Whack! The woman slaps Priscilla across the face again!
WOMAN: My husband's name was John Ferris. Our son is John, Jr., and you tore our family apart!
Priscilla rubs her check and smiles, putting forth good efforts in maintaining her composure.
PRISCILLA PRICE: John? I'm sorry, but you're still gonna have to be more specific.
The woman sends a third opened hand at Priscilla's face. This time, Priscilla catches her hand at the wrist. Her calm demeanor disappears, her eyes narrow, and she speaks in a hushed but darker tone.
PRISCILLA PRICE: Listen here, I don't know who John is. I am not saying that because I am trying to deny sleeping with your husband-- the truth is, I probably did. I am saying that because he apparently meant so little to me that I didn't bother to remember his name. No why don't you get lost before John Jr. is coming home to zero parents instead of one parent.
Priscilla lets go of her wrist. Mrs. Ferris is trembling. The manager is approaching the table.
Mrs. Ferris picks up Priscilla's glass of water and splashes it on her. Priscilla does not flinch.
MRS. FERRIS: I hate you. I hate you!!!!
The woman is having a full blown tantrum, screaming at the top of her lungs, which is magnified by the maintenance of Priscilla's composure.
The manager escorts the woman from the restaurant.
Ian Crouch takes it all in, speechless by what he has just witnessed.
Out of nowhere, Priscilla and Ian are approached by the worm himself, divorce attorney MARTY SUNSHINE, ESQ.:
MARTY SUNSHINE: Priscilla, he doll, fancy to meet you here!
Marty nods at Ian Couch. Meanwhile, Priscilla looks at Ian. She knows he is studying the situation, and so she feigns surprise.
PRISCILLA PRICE: Marty, what a pleasant surprise. Off all the places...
MARTY SUNSHINE: Well I have to say that Mrs. Ferris's behavior was absolutely appalling just now-- and to think that she is in the middle o a child custody battle. I don't know, the judge and the custody expert certainly are not going to be too happy when they hear that Ms. Ferris cannot control her temper in a public setting. Isn't that right, Lenny?
Marty turns his attention to the gentleman seated at the table adjacent to Ian and Priscilla:
The man is LENNY FIELDSTNE, Marty Sunshine's go to two-bit private investigator. He is holding his camera phone.
MARTY SUNSHINE: Did you get it Lenny?
Lenny presses play, and we hear the audio of the interaction with Mrs. Ferris losing her shit on Priscilla.
LENNY FIELDSTONE: Hell hath not fury like a woman scorned.
FADE TO BLACK