David Speranza

Clean Break (excerpt)

by David Speranza

EXT. LAWRENCE HOUSE/DREW'S MUSTANG - NIGHT

Drew comes around in front of the car, blocking Frieda's path.

He kisses her.  She lets him, without enthusiasm.  When he is done, Frieda calmly takes a swig of beer and puts the bottle on the hood of the car.

                            FRIEDA
I don't know.  Tastes about the same to me.

                            DREW
                    (irritated)
What'd you ask me out here for, anyway?

                            FRIEDA
I told you, I needed some beer.

                            DREW
And that's it?

                            FRIEDA
Maybe I also wanted some company.  But 
suddenly I don't anymore.

                            DREW
Ever think maybe I wanted somethin' too?

                            FRIEDA
Don't take a genius to figure that one out.  
Guess you never heard of chivalry?

                            DREW
Heard of it.  Also heard of record players and 
8-track tapes.  Not much call for either nowadays.

Finding this faintly ridiculous, Frieda tries to push past him.

                            FRIEDA
Good night, Drew--

But Drew stops her, gripping her by the shoulders.

                            DREW
Aw, come on, Frieda--stay out and play a little, 
will you?  It's not like I got a disease or somethin'.

                            FRIEDA
                    (glaring at him)
You ever checked?

Drew's eyes flare with anger.  He crushes her to him, kissing her sloppily.  She struggles, her sixpack crashing to the pavement.

                            FRIEDA (cont.)
God damn it, Drew!  Get the fuck off!

                            DREW
Frieda, I'm not askin' for more than what was 
promised--

They struggle.  Frieda reaches out defensively for the bottle she left on the car--but only knocks it to the ground.

                            FRIEDA
I didn't...promise you... shit!

Frieda pushes Drew's face away, Drew grips her wrist, twists her arm around her back...

                            VOICE
Hey, everything all right over here?

Drew freezes; Frieda looks up to see her neighbor approaching from down the street.  She wrenches herself from Drew's grasp.

                            FRIEDA
Everything's--fine!

                            DREW
Who the fuck are you?

They both regard the man, who could use a shave but is otherwise well turned-out in a tie and sporty dark blazer.  Maintaining his pleasant demeanor, he looks Drew over calmly.

                            NEIGHBOR
Just a good citizen looking out for his neighbors.

                            DREW
Well, the neighbors are fine.  And they like to 
mind their own business.

                            NEIGHBOR
                    (to Frieda)
That true?

                            DREW
She don't need anyone lookin' out for her.

                            NEIGHBOR
No?

                            FRIEDA
No--

With that, Frieda jerks her knee up into Drew's crotch.  Drew turns to her in surprise.

                            DREW
Frieda, why'd you go and--

The pain hits.  Drew lets out a sharp breath, his eyes widening.  He clutches his balls and tumbles backwards into the Lawrence front yard.

                            DREW (cont.)
Shit...shit...

With Drew writhing on the grass, Frieda coolly retrieves the lone undamaged beer bottle, twists off the cap and downs a healthy gulp.

                            NEIGHBOR
                    (to Frieda)
I guess you do have everything under control.

                            FRIEDA
Yep.  Thanks, though.

                            NEIGHBOR
Don't mention it.  I was just out taking a walk...
                    (offers hand)
Eddie Caruso.  I'm across the street. Just moved in.

                            FRIEDA
Frieda.  Frieda Lawrence.
                    (they shake)
And that's Drew.

                            EDDIE
Hi ya', Drew.

Drew moans from the ground.

                            FRIEDA
Kinda' warm for a tie, ain't it?

Eddie glances down at the thin, dark tie at his throat.

                            EDDIE
Call it the price of style.  Too much?

                            FRIEDA
This place could use a little style.

                            EDDIE
Well, I'll leave you to your evening. Nice 
meeting you.

                            FRIEDA
Yeah.  See you round the briar patch.

Eddie turns and heads back to his house.  Frieda watches him curiously, then turns to Drew still recovering on the grass.

                            FRIEDA (cont.)
You all right, Drew?

                            DREW
--Fuck no.

                            FRIEDA
Are we done?

                            DREW
Fuck off.

Frieda nods satisfactorily, then steps past him to go inside.

                            FRIEDA
You owe me a sixpack.

---

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