GATTACA by Andrew M. Niccol - The Script Source
GATTACA by Andrew M. Niccol - The Script Source
GATTACA by Andrew M. Niccol - The Script Source
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88.<br />
JEROME<br />
(afterthought as he<br />
picks up his jacket)<br />
Will you be okay?<br />
EUGENE<br />
Don't worry about your little pin<br />
cushion. To be honest, I'm looking<br />
forward to having the place to<br />
myself.<br />
JEROME<br />
(seeing through the<br />
bravado)<br />
We'll still be able to talk when<br />
I'm away. <strong>The</strong> conversation will<br />
just keep getting longer.<br />
How long?<br />
EUGENE<br />
JEROME<br />
By the time I'm at the Belt, you<br />
phone and say, "How are you?"<br />
Forty-five minutes later I reply,<br />
"Not bad. How are you?"<br />
EUGENE<br />
I guess I'd better have something<br />
important to say if it takes that<br />
long to get an answer.<br />
INT. MICHAEL'S CLUB. NIGHT.<br />
IRENE and JEROME step off the dance floor of the smoky,<br />
decadent dinner club and take a seat at their table. Irene<br />
is agog at the strange assortment of PATRONS, the cigars, the<br />
laden dessert trolleys. It is all slightly off from the<br />
pristine world she is accustomed to.<br />
IRENE<br />
What is this place?<br />
JEROME<br />
(wry smile, enjoying<br />
her fascination)<br />
You've never been here?<br />
(a dessert trolley is<br />
wheeled up)<br />
Let me order for you.
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