COACH
"Hothead Hayden"
by David A. Ball
TEASER
FADE IN:
INT - COACH'S OFFICE - DAY
HAYDEN SITS AT HIS DESK, SHUFFLING PAPERS. WE HEAR LUTHER AND DAUBER LAUGHING HYSTERICALLY O.S. FROM THE HALL. LUTHER AND DAUBER ENTER. THEY TRY TO STIFLE THEIR LAUGHTER, BUT EVERY TIME THEY LOOK AT EACH OTHER, THEY START TO GIGGLE.
HAYDEN IS SMILING, EAGER TO JOIN IN ON THE MOOD.
HAYDEN
What's so funny?
LUTHER AND DAUBER IMMEDIATELY STOP SMILING. THEY LOOK WORRIED.
LUTHER
Nothing.
HAYDEN
Aw, come on, guys. I could use a good joke this morning.
LUTHER FIDGETS.
LUTHER
It's nothing. Just some stupid cartoon someone clipped out
of the school paper and pinned to the hall bulletin board.
LUTHER LOOKS AT DAUBER. THEY BOTH HAVE TO STOP THEMSELVES FROM LAUGHING.
HAYDEN
(GETTING ANNOYED) Well it was obviously funny enough
to get a laugh out of you two.
DAUBER
You won't think it's funny, Coach.
HAYDEN
Oh yeah! And since when did you develop this amazing psychic
ability to determine what I think would be funny or not?
DAUBER
Since the cartoon's about you, Coach.
LUTHER
(TO THE AIR) Oh, boy.
HAYDEN GETS UP AND WALKS AROUND THE OTHER SIDE OF HIS DESK.
HAYDEN
About me? What, like all the stupid things I have to
put up with . . . and things like that?
LUTHER
Well, more like . . . kind of, um.
DAUBER
It's a satirical look at your quick temper
and volatile sideline antics.
HAYDEN
Huh?
LUTHER
(BLURTS OUT) You chew the shoes off the ref and
spit out the cleats like machine gun bullets.
HAYDEN
That's it? That's what you guys were so afraid to tell me?
LUTHER
Well, that and the part where the top of your head
blows off so high, the people in the bleachers start
tossing it around like a beach ball.
LUTHER AND DAUBER BURST OUT LAUGHING.
HAYDEN
I can't believe you guys. What, did you think I was
going to be a big baby about it and throw a fit or something?
DAUBER
Well, we uh.
LUTHER
Sorry, Hayden.
HAYDEN
I like a good joke just as much as the next guy.
HAYDEN WALKS OVER TO THE DOOR.
HAYDEN (CONT'D)
Even if the joke is on me. I'll just go over to the bulletin
board and judge for myself whether or not I think it's funny.
HAYDEN EXITS. LUTHER AND DAUBER EXCHANGE LOOKS. A BEAT LATER, WE HEAR A LOUD CRACK FROM DOWN THE HALL. COACH RETURNS WITH TWO BROKEN HALVES OF THE BULLETIN BOARD NESTLED UNDER ONE ARM. HE THROWS THEM IN THE VICINITY OF THE WASTE PAPER BASKET.
FADE OUT
ACT I
FADE IN:
INT - COACH'S OFFICE - DAY
HAYDEN SITS AT HIS DESK WHICH IS COVERED WITH SEVERAL WEEK'S WORTH OF THE SCHOOL NEWSPAPER. HE'S EXAMINING THE "HOTHEAD HAYDEN" CARTOONS IN EACH ONE OF THEM WITH A LARGE MAGNIFYING GLASS.
LUTHER LOUNGES ON THE SOFA, LEISURELY FLIPPING THROUGH THE COMICS SECTION OF ONE OF SEVERAL PAPERS STACKED NEXT TO HIM. HE'S TRYING TO HOLD IN HIS LAUGHTER, BUT IT KEEPS COMING OUT IN STIFLED BURSTS.
HAYDEN HAS HAD ENOUGH.
HAYDEN
You're supposed to be trying to read the signature,
Luther. Not the cartoons.
LUTHER
(Laughing) I can't help it, Hayden. This one has you with
the steam coming out of your ears so fast, the play is
interrupted cause someone thought the ref blew the whistle.
HAYDEN DROPS THE NEWSPAPER AND MAGNIFYING GLASS IN FRUSTRATION.
HAYDEN
Now I know why cartoonists scribble their name
You can't kill them if you don't know who they are.
LUTHER
It's just a cartoon, Hayden. I don't see
what the big deal is.
HAYDEN
Luther, what have I been talking about every day
for the last two months?
LUTHER
I don't know. I wasn't listening.
HAYDEN
The Hula Bowl, Luther. My chances of coaching at
the Hula Bowl this year.
LUTHER
That's the one in Hawaii, right?
HAYDEN
Yes it's in Hawaii, Luther. Where else would they
play the Hula Bowl, Detroit? (BEAT)
LUTHER
What's Hothead Hayden got to do with the Hula Bowl anyway?
HAYDEN
Will you stop calling it that.
LUTHER
Well, that's what it's called. (HOLDS UP PAPER AND POINTS)
See? Right there . . . Hothead Hayden.
HAYDEN
I know what it's called, Luther. I just don't want to hear it.
(SLAPS THE PAPER) This is exactly the kind of
slander that blew it for me last year. You remember why
I wasn't chosen to coach the All-Stars last year.
LUTHER
Yeah. Because you're a hothead.
HAYDEN
No. The All-Star Committee thought I was a
hothead thanks to all the nasty things Walter Dix wrote
about me in the school paper.
HAYDEN HOLDS UP THE SCHOOL PAPER THEN TOSSES IT BACK ON HIS DESK.
LUTHER
Because you're a hothead.
HAYDEN
Luther!
LUTHER
(UNDER HIS BREATH) Hothead. (ON HAYDEN'S LOOK)
Well, a rational man doesn't try to drown the head of the
school paper in a bucket of Gatorade just because he asks
him a question in the middle of a football game.
HAYDEN
It was a stupid question.
LUTHER
What do you think of the game?
HAYDEN
It was forty-nine to three!
LUTHER
That's amazing. Do that again.
HAYDEN
Do what?
LUTHER
When you got mad, you looked just like Hothead Hayden
. . . except you didn't have little mushroom clouds coming
out of the veins in your head.
HAYDEN
Luther!
LUTHER
There. You just did it again!
HAYDEN
Will you forget about Hothead Hayden. Geez.
This is exactly what I'm talking about.
If the All-Star committee catches wind of this,
they're still going to think I'm a hothead . . . and
Dix knows it. He's obviously printing this cartoon
just so he can blow it for me again!
LUTHER
If you really think it could ruin your chances with
the All-Stars, why don't you just go down to the
journalism department and talk to Dix.
HAYDEN
There's no talking to him. The guy's just plain got
it out for me. No, Luther. The best way to solve this
problem is at the source. No cartoonist, no cartoon.
That's why I got the whole team scouring the campus
looking for the little doodler right now.
LUTHER
I don't see what the harm is in trying to talk to the guy.
You're not even sure that Dix is behind this. It could be
just a big, fat coincidence. Dix has probably forgotten all
about it.
HAYDEN
Luther, would you forget if someone dumped five
hundred pounds of fertilizer in your office?
LUTHER
(BEAT) Nitrate or manure?
TWO FOOTBALL PLAYERS BARGE THROUGH THE DOOR, CARRYING A NERDY LOOKING STUDENT BETWEEN THEM.
PLAYER #1
We got your cartoonist, Coach.
HAYDEN
Way to go, men. (GIVES LUTHER A KNOWING LOOK)
THE PLAYERS DEPOSIT THE FRIGHTENED STUDENT INTO AN EMPTY CHAIR IN FRONT OF HAYDEN'S DESK. PLAYER #2 PALMS THE SUSPECTS HEAD SO HE WON'T RUN AWAY.
PLAYER #1 (CONT'D)
We found him sitting in one of our classes,
drawing pictures in this notebook.
PLAYER #1 HANDS COACH A NOTEBOOK AND A PENCIL. HAYDEN LEERS AT THE STUDENT AS HE OPENS THE EVIDENCE.
HAYDEN
Think you're pretty funny. Well, we'll just
see who gets the last --
HAYDEN LOOKS IN THE NOTEBOOK.
HAYDEN (CONT'D)
This is a geometry notebook! (BEAT) Get out of here!
THE PLAYERS PICK UP THEIR SUSPECT AND CARRY HIM OUT THE DOOR.
PLAYER #2
(TO PLAYER #1) I told you that wasn't Coach's head.
HAYDEN TOSSES THE NOTEBOOK OVER HIS SHOULDER AND HEAVES A GREAT SIGH AS WE . . .
CUT TO:
INT - WALTER DIX'S OFFICE - DAY
WALTER DIX SITS AT HIS IMMACULATELY KEPT, ANTIQUE DESK, TYPING ON HIS IMMACULATELY KEPT, ANTIQUE TYPEWRITER. HE NOTICES A SMUDGE ON HIS IMMACULATELY CLEAN, ANTIQUE DESK LAMP, WIPES IT WITH HIS EMBROIDERED POCKET HANDKERCHIEF, AND BEGINS METICULOUSLY FOLDING IT WHEN WE HEAR A RAP ON THE DOOR (O.S.)
HAYDEN STICKS HIS HEAD INTO THE OFFICE, RAPPING ON THE DOOR JAMB TO GET DIX'S ATTENTION.
HAYDEN
(SNIFFS) Got the smell out.
WALTER DIX STANDS UP AND WALKS AROUND TO THE FRONT OF HIS DESK.
DIX
Coach Fox. Come in. What brings you here?
HAYDEN WALKS IN, A LITTLE UNCOMFORTABLE.
DIX (CONT'D)
You're not planning on fertilizing my office again?
HAYDEN STARTS TO EXPLAIN. DIX TAKES IT FOR THE BEGINNING OF AN APOLOGY.
DIX (CONT'D)
Forget it. No need to apologize. It's ancient history.
Gone. Finito. (BEAT) It's like it never even happened.
AN ELDER COLLEAGUE OF DIX'S ENTERS CARRYING A SMALL, WHITE PAPER BAG AND A CUP OF COFFEE.
COLLEAGUE
Here's your coffee, Stinky.
THE OLD MAN HANDS HIM THE BAG AND CUP OF COFFEE. DIX GLARES AT HIM.
DIX
(ICE COLD) Thank you.
THE COLLEAGUE TURNS TO LEAVE, LOOKS UP AT HAYDEN, POINTS AT HIM AND BURSTS INTO LAUGHTER.
COLLEAGUE
Oh, you must forgive me young man. But seeing you
standing there is akin to running into Dagwood Bumstead.
COLLEAGUE BURSTS INTO LAUGHTER AGAIN AND WIPES THE TEARS FROM HIS EYES AS HE EXITS. HAYDEN GRINS AND BEARS IT.
DIX
Pay no attention to him. He's a doddering idiot.
Been here too many years.
HAYDEN
Isn't that your father?
DIX
When you're ripe, it's time to go. (ALL BUSINESS)
Now, what can I do for you, Coach Fox?
HAYDEN
It's about this cartoon, Walt.
DIX
Hothead Hayden? Yes. Very funny. The students love it.
HAYDEN
I want it out of the paper.
DIX
I'm afraid I can't do that.
HAYDEN
Why not? You're head of the school paper.
If you say it's out, it's out, right?
DIX
It's not that easy. There's a very creative
and sensitive young cartoonist to think about.
HAYDEN
(UNDER HIS BREATH) I think about him every day.
DIX
I can't disappoint him and pull it just because
you have a problem with it, now can I?
HAYDEN
Sure you can. (MULLS IT OVER) Okay. Okay.
I tell you what. Just give me his name and address
and I'll go talk to the lad.
DIX
And intimidate him. Forget it, Coach Fox. The cartoon stays.
HAYDEN
Aw, geez, Dix. You were just as stubborn last year
and it didn't get you anywhere . . . except hip deep
in cow patties.
DIX
(SLIPS) It got you out of the All-Stars.
HAYDEN
So you are trying to screw up my shot
at the Hula Bowl. (BEAT) Why a cartoon, Dix?
Why not go all out and lie about me with another
one of your smear campaigns.
DIX
(WRINKLES HIS NOSE WHILE GESTURING TO HIS OFFICE)
You were not the only victim of a smear campaign. And they were not lies.
Simply modest exaggerations. Unfortunately, the school board did not concur
HAYDEN
You said I forced my mother to eat yellow snow!
DIX
No matter. To avoid any future chastisement, I have
settled on lampooning you, Coach Fox. As satire, Hothead
Hayden is protected fully by the First Amendment to the
Constitution. With it, I have the right to say anything I want
about you. And, if my little cartoon can in any way impede
your happiness, Coach Fox . . . then it stays in my paper.
HAYDEN
If it stays, then you better make it smaller because
you're going to need to make room for an obituary column!
DIX
Oh by all means, follow through on your macho threats.
I'd just love the physical evidence to support an article
about you in my paper.
HAYDEN
So, that's your game. Well it won't work, Dix.
Because until the All-Star committee announces
their decision next week, I'm playing it cool as a cucumber.
DIX
(LAUGHS) Ha! You are going to hold your temper for a week?!
That's a laugh. You couldn't keep cool if you sat on a popscycle.
HAYDEN
Watch me.
HAYDEN WALKS TOWARD THE DOOR.
DIX
Care to make a little wager on that?
HAYDEN TURNS AROUND.
HAYDEN
No.
HAYDEN WALKS THE REST OF THE WAY TO THE DOOR AND BEGINS OPENING IT. DIX SEEMS NERVOUS.
DIX
(DESPERATE) I thought you wanted Hothead Hayden out of my paper.
HAYDEN STOPS, CLOSES THE DOOR.
HAYDEN
(INTERESTED) What'd you have in mind, Walt?
DIX
You control your temper for one week. No ranting,
no raving, not so much as a cross word. Succeed, and
Hothead Hayden will be permanently stricken from the
school paper. Fail, however, and you owe me.
HAYDEN
How Much?
DIX
Precisely what it cost to replace my 18th Century, Persian
rug you so callously defiled. . . five thousand dollars.
HAYDEN
Five thousand dollars?! What was it, a flying carpet?!
DIX
(PREPARES TO SIT AT HIS DESK)
Well, if you don't think you can do it.
HAYDEN
(THINKS ABOUT IT) You've got a bet, Dix. On one condition.
DIX
Yes?
HAYDEN
Hothead Hayden's out of the paper . . . starting today.
DIX
(BEAT) Agreed.
HAYDEN HOLDS OUT HIS HAND TO SHAKE ON IT. DIX IGNORES IT, AND INSTEAD, SETS THE ALARM ON HIS WATCH.
DIX (CONT'D)
There. Exactly one week from . . . this . . . second.
DIX PRESSES A BUTTON ON HIS WATCH AND WE HEAR THE BEEP-BEEP TONE OF HIS ALARM WATCH.
DIX (CONT'D)
I envy you, Coach Fox. To be so blissfully ignorant
to one's own limitations. You actually believe you can
control that CroMagnon temper of yours. Oh, you'll
make a pitiful attempt to be sure. But with no outlet
to vent your primitive frustrations, rage will build up
inside of you like steam in a tea kettle.
(MORE)
DIX (CONT'D)
And when you finally do unload on some poor,
unsuspecting slob--mark my words, Coach Fox--
I'll be there . . . getting it all down on paper.
Then you will learn that the pen truly
is mightier than the sword. (IN HAYDEN'S FACE)
Now get out of my office . . . you barbaric, dimwitted,
sophomoric twit!
HAYDEN BITES HIS LIP, THEN ROLLS HIS TONGUE IN HIS CHEEK, TRYING TO CONTROL HIS TEMPER. WITHOUT A WORD, HE TURNS AND WALKS OUT OF DIX'S OFFICE. DIX SITS DOWN AND BEGINS WORKING.
A BEAT LATER, HAYDEN STICKS HIS HEAD IN FROM THE HALL, SMILING.
HAYDEN
See you later, Stinky.
CUT TO:
INT - COACH'S OFFICE - DAY
HAYDEN SITS AT HIS DESK, WRITING A LETTER. DAUBER ENTERS.
DAUBER
Morning, Coach. You're in early.
HAYDEN
Yeah, I thought I'd get a jump on my acceptance
letter for the All-Star coaching position.
DAUBER
(EXCITED) You mean you made it? That's fantastic, Coach.
HAYDEN
Well, I'm as good as in, Dauber my boy.
I conned old Stinky into dropping that
cartoon about me.
DAUBER
Professor Dix? How'd you manage that, Coach?
HAYDEN
It was easy. I got him to bet me that I couldn't
control my temper for a week. He can't print
Hothead Hayden unless I lose the bet.
DAUBER
And what does Stinky get if you lose?
HAYDEN
Five thousand dollars.
DAUBER CRINGES.
DAUBER
Ooh wee. That's a lot of money to bet on something
you've never done before. Do you think you can do it?
HAYDEN
That's the beauty of it, Daub. I don't have to.
I could scream at you right now and Dix would
never even know it. (BEAT) Go ahead. Do
something stupid so I can yell at you.
DAUBER
AW. I don't know, Coach. Stupidity is usually
a pretty spontaneous thing.
LUTHER ENTERS WITH THE SCHOOL NEWSPAPER IN ONE HAND. HIS OTHER HAND IS THRUST AROUND A BULGE IN HIS JACKET POCKET
LUTHER
You're not going to like this, Hayden.
HAYDEN
Aw, don't tell me the weasel is still
printing that stupid cartoon.
LUTHER HANDS HIM THE PAPER.
LUTHER
It's worse than that.
HAYDEN READS THE PAPER.
HAYDEN
Catch Coach Fox Photo Contest! Five hundred dollars
to the first person to submit a photo of Coach Fox
blowing his top!
HAYDEN PULLS THE PAPER CLOSER TO HIS FACE TO MAKE SURE HE'S READING IT RIGHT. WE SEE THE FLASH OF A FLASHBULB AND HEAR THE SOUND OF A CAMERA SHUTTER AS LUTHER SNAPS A PICTURE A FRACTION OF A SECOND TOO LATE. HAYDEN REACTS BEHIND THE COVER OF NEWSPAPER.
HAYDEN (CONT'D)
(BEHIND THE PAPER) That better have
been ball lighting, Luther.
HAYDEN LOWERS THE PAPER TO PEER OVER IT. BUT EVERY TIME HE DOES, LUTHER SNAPS ANOTHER PHOTO.
SFX: CAMERA SHUTTER AND FLASH.
HAYDEN (CONT'D)
Luther!
HAYDEN DUCKS BEHIND THE PAPER.
SFX: CAMERA SHUTTER AND FLASH.
HAYDEN (CONT'D)
Luth--
HAYDEN DUCKS. LUTHER TRIES AGAIN, BUT MANAGES TO GET ONLY THE NEWSPAPER.
SFX: CAMERA SHUTTER AND FLASH.
HAYDEN (CONT'D)
Luther!
HAYDEN SLOWLY LOWERS THE PAPER AND PLACES IT ON HIS DESK, PROTECTING HIMSELF WITH A BIG, PHONY GRIN. SOON AS THE PAPER REVEALS COACH'S FACE, LUTHER RELEASES A VOLLEY OF SNAPSHOTS. WE SEE A SERIES OF FLASHES AND HEAR THE SOUND OF A CAMERA SET ON AUTOMATIC.
HAYDEN PICKS UP THE GOLD PEN HE WAS USING TO WRITE HIS LETTER, HOLDS IT UP FOR LUTHER TO SEE, AND SNAPS IT IN TWO, SMILING ALL THE WHILE FOR THE CAMERA.
HAYDEN (CONT'D)
That was your neck, Luther.
LUTHER LOWERS HIS CAMERA.
LUTHER
No, that was your Cotton Bowl Cross pen!
LUTHER JERKS THE CAMERA BACK UP TO HIS EYE AND LAUNCHES ANOTHER VOLLEY OF SNAPSHOTS AS HAYDEN GRIMACES, TRYING TO KEEP HIS COMPOSURE.
FADE OUT
END OF ACT I
ACT II
FADE IN:
INT - TRAINING ROOM - DAY
HAYDEN AND DAUBER ARE SETTING UP FOLDING CHAIRS AND VIDEO EQUIPMENT TO WATCH THE MISTAKES THEY MADE IN LAST SATURDAY'S GAME.
DAUBER
Boy, Saturday's game sure was a stinker, Coach.
You must be planning on giving it to the guys real good.
HAYDEN
That's right, Dauber. A good coach is one that
can take a team of humiliated and defeated football
players. Bring them together when their spirits are
lowest. Show them what they did right. Show them
what they did wrong. Then humiliate them into playing better.
HAYDEN PLACES A LARGE, PLASTIC BIN ON A CARD TABLE POSITIONED NEXT TO THE DOOR. DAUBER PICKS UP HIS CLIPBOARD.
HAYDEN (CONT'D)
Actually, I'm kind of looking forward to it.
Since this silly contest started, I can't swat a
fly without knocking a camera out of someone's hand.
HAYDEN REACHES INTO THE BIN, PULLS OUT A HAND-HELD METAL DETECTOR AND GIVES IT TO DAUBER.
HAYDEN (CONT'D)
It's not even safe to blow off a little steam
in my own office . . . not with Allen Fundt in
my face all week.
DAUBER
Where is Luther, anyway?
HAYDEN
(PROUDLY) I've got him out chalking the field for today's scrimmage.
DAUBER
We don't have a scrimmage game today, Coach.
(CONSULTING CLIPBOARD) According to the
schedule, the team's supposed to be running laps.
HAYDEN
(KNOWINGLY) Ooops!
THE FOOTBALL TEAM FILES INTO THE TRAINING ROOM. HAYDEN FRISKS THE PLAYERS AS THEY COME THROUGH THE DOOR, WHILE DAUBER WAVES THE METAL DETECTOR IN FRONT OF THEM. THE METAL DETECTOR BEEPS AND HAYDEN PULLS A CAMERA OUT OF THE PLAYER'S POCKET AND PLACES IT IN THE PLASTIC BIN.
AS EACH PLAYER PASSES INSPECTION, OR HAS HIS CAMERA CONFISCATED, HE IS ALLOWED TO ENTER THE ROOM AND SIT DOWN IN ONE OF THE CHAIRS.
THE LAST PLAYER TO ENTER IS FRED, EATING A HUGE, SUBMARINE SANDWICH. DAUBER WAVES THE DETECTOR IN FRONT OF HIM. WHEN IT REACHES HIS SANDWICH, THE DETECTOR BEEPS. HAYDEN GIVES FRED A LOOK THEN LIFTS THE TOP PORTION OF HIS SANDWICH. COACH PULLS OUT A POCKET INSTAMATIC. HE SEPARATES IT FROM A TOMATO AND HOLDS IT OUT IN DISDAIN.
HAYDEN
Et tu, Fred?
FRED BOWS HIS HEAD IN SHAME AND SHUFFLES INTO THE ROOM. HE SITS IN THE LAST AVAILABLE SEAT.
COACH HANDS FRED'S CAMERA TO DAUBER THEN TURNS TO FACE THE TEAM. DAUBER ADDS THE CAMERA TO THE LARGE COLLECTION IN THE PLASTIC BIN.
HAYDEN (CONT'D)
(WORKING HIMSELF UP) I think you all know
why you're here today, and how I feel about your
performance last Saturday. Suffice it to say I wasn't smiling
on the sidelines because I enjoy a good thirty-six to three
trouncing. So now that we're behind closed doors and away
from reporters and polaroid packing pom-pom girls, I want
to tell you football players a little bit about playing football . . .
LUTHER STROLLS IN FROM HAYDEN'S OFFICE. HE SEEMS FAIRLY INNOCENT WITH HIS HANDS THRUST IN HIS SLICKER POCKETS. HAYDEN SEES LUTHER AND SUPPRESSES THE ANGER HE HAD JUST LET SURFACE.
HAYDEN (CONT'D)
(HOLDING BACK) . . . You boys try harder.
(TO DAUBER) Dauber.
DAUBER
Great speech, Coach. (TO TEAM) Okay.
You heard the coach. Now, Let's hit that
locker room with a whole new outlook.
A RELIEVED FOOTBALL TEAM RUSHES OUT OF THE TRAINING ROOM, CLOSELY FOLLOWED BY DAUBER.
HAYDEN
(AS TEAM EXITS) I want to see each one
of you on that track in fifteen minutes.
HAYDEN WALKS INTO HIS OFFICE.
HAYDEN (CONT'D)
CROSS CUT TO:
INT - COACH'S OFFICE - DAY
HAYDEN ENTERS FROM THE TRAINING ROOM. LUTHER FOLLOWS HIM. WE HEAR THE PHONE RING.
LUTHER
It's not my fault I ran out of chalk.
LUTHER WALKS OVER TO THE SOFA AND SITS DOWN. HAYDEN WALKS TO HIS DESK AND ANSWERS THE PHONE. IT'S HIS CREDIT CARD COMPANY INFORMING HIM OF UNUSUAL CHARGING ACTIVITY TO HIS ACCOUNT.
HAYDEN
(INTO PHONE) Coach Fox. (BEAT) Uh huh.
What do you mean, unusual credit activity?
(UPSET) Eighteen hundred dollars! (BEAT)
No, they're not my charges. I didn't even use
my card yesterday!
LUTHER PULLS HIS CAMERA OUT OF HIS POCKET AND BEGINS TOYING WITH THE VARIOUS CONTROLS. HAYDEN LOOKS AT LUTHER, THEN SMILES THROUGH CLENCHED TEETH IN AN EFFORT TO CHANGE HIS DEMEANOR.
HAYDEN (CONT'D)
HAYDEN HANGS UP THE PHONE.
LUTHER
Problem?
HAYDEN
No.
LUTHER
Credit card trouble, huh?
HAYDEN
No trouble, Luther. It's obviously some sort of
computer error. I don't even have the card on me . . .
I lent it to Kelly and Stuart for their trip to New York . . .
HAYDEN BARELY HAS TIME TO PROCESS WHAT HE SAID WHEN JUDY WATKINS STORMS INTO HIS OFFICE. SHE'S CARRYING A HUGE GUNNY SACK OVER HER SHOULDER.
WATKINS
Hayden Fox, I've seen you pull some pretty childish
maneuvers in my tenure here . . . But if you think crossing
off my name on the track schedule and penciling in your own
is your idea of advanced planning, then you've got another thing coming.
HAYDEN JUMPS UP FROM HIS DESK, ABOUT TO UNLOAD ON WATKINS. HE GLANCES OVER AT LUTHER WHO IS NONCHALANTLY CLEANING HIS CAMERA WITH A HANDKERCHIEF. HAYDEN BACKS DOWN.
WATKINS OPENS THE DRAW-STRING OF THE SACK AND DUMPS A PILE OF MEN'S RUNNING SHOES ONTO THE FLOOR. BEHIND THE RAIN OF SNEAKERS CLANK A LARGE PAIR OF LOCK SNIPPERS.
WATKINS
These are the left ones. The right ones are in the lake.
WATKINS DROPS THE EMPTY SACK ON THE PILE OF SNEAKERS. HAYDEN LOOKS AT THE PILE, SLACK-JAWED.
WATKINS (CONT'D)
Don't worry, Hayden. You still have enough sneakers
for your boys to play hopscotch. Why don't
you go down to Elementary Education and kick some
pre-schoolers out of the playground.
HAYDEN WALKS OVER TO WATKINS, LOOKS DOWN AT THE OFFENSIVE PILE OF SNEAKERS, PURSES HIS LIPS, NODS, THEN LOOKS BACK UP AT WATKINS.
HAYDEN
(A CONTROLLED CALM) Judy. You're right.
I'm wrong. I apologize.
HAYDEN TAKES JUDY BY THE ARM AND ESCORTS HER TO THE DOOR. JUDY GLANCES AT THE POINT OF CONTACT ON HER ARM, THEN UP AT HAYDEN, PUZZLED.
HAYDEN (CONT'D)
I don't know what came over me. I was in a bind.
(MORE)
HAYDEN (CONT'D)
I forgot to reserve the track, so I crossed your name
off the schedule and wrote in my own . . . as if girl's
basketball wasn't as important as men's football.
(OPENS THE DOOR)
Will you find it in your heart to forgive me, Judy?
WATKINS
Are you feeling all right, Hayden?
HAYDEN
I feel a lot better now, having gotten that
burden of guilt off my chest.
WATKINS EXITS. HAYDEN STICKS HIS HEAD OUT THE DOOR.
HAYDEN (CONT'D)
(YELLING DOWN THE HALL TO JUDY)
You girls have fun with that track now.
HAYDEN PULLS HIS HEAD BACK INTO THE OFFICE AND TURNS AROUND. THIS IS THE FACE OF A MAN IN SERIOUS INNER CONFLICT. A GOOFY SMILE IS JUST BARELY CONTAINING THE RAGE THAT IS TRYING TO SURFACE.
HAYDEN BEGINS SCANNING THE ROOM, LOOKING FOR SOMETHING TO THROW.
HAYDEN
Something to throw. I need something to throw.
(LOOKS AT LUTHER WITH HIS CAMERA)
Something you're supposed to throw . . . like a football!
HAYDEN SPOTS HIS VICTORY FOOTBALL AND PICKS IT UP. HE FONDLES IT IN ANXIOUS HANDS, LIKING THE WEIGHT AND FEEL OF IT.
HAYDEN (CONT'D)
That's right, just an ordinary picture of a coach
throwing a football . . . in his office!
WITH THOSE LAST WORDS, HAYDEN PEGS THE FOOTBALL ACROSS THE ROOM. WE HEAR A CRASH AS THE FOOTBALL MEETS COACH'S TROPHY SHELF.
LUTHER
Wow! Right into your Coach Of The Year Trophy.
It's not like you get one of those every day!
LUTHER AIMS HIS CAMERA AT HAYDEN. COACH FREEZES, AFRAID TO MOVE, THE FAKE GRIN PLASTERED TO HIS FACE.
LUTHER
(LOOKS UP FROM BEHIND HIS CAMERA)
Talk about losing your head . . . that guy's skull took
off like a little brass bullet.
LUTHER CROUCHES BEHIND HIS CAMERA AND MOVES IN ON HAYDEN, AS HAYDEN BACKS STIFFLY TO THE DOOR.
HAYDEN TURNS, OPENS THE DOOR AND STARTS TO STEP OUT WHEN WE HEAR A STUDENT YELL FROM DOWN THE HALL (O.S.)
STUDENT (O.S.)
Coach Fox is a jerk!
HAYDEN FLIES INTO THE HALL.
HAYDEN
Who said--
HAYDEN SNAPS TO ATTENTION, THE BIG, FAKE SMILE REPLACING HIS ANGER JUST AN INSTANT BEFORE WE SEE A FLASH FROM DOWN THE HALL AND HEAR A CAMERA SHUTTER (O.S.).
AS IF RELEASED FROM THE FREEZING EFFECTS OF THE FLASH, HAYDEN WALKS OFF THE FRAME.
CUT TO:
INT - COACH'S CABIN - NIGHT
HAYDEN ENTERS. HE TAKES OFF HIS HAT, UNZIPS HIS COAT AND BEGINS TO PULL IT OFF WHEN HE'S SURPRISED TO SEE KELLY AND STUART SITTING IN HIS LIVING ROOM, THEIR LUGGAGE STREWN ABOUT.
CHRISTINE ENTERS FROM THE KITCHEN AND SERVES A TRAY OF HOT CHOCOLATES TO THE KIDS.
CHRISTINE
Oh, hello, Hayden.
KELLY
Hi, Daddy.
STUART
Good evening, Coach Fox.
HAYDEN STEPS INTO THE LIVING ROOM.
HAYDEN
Kelly. Stuart. What are you doing here?
KELLY STANDS AND STARTS TO EXPLAIN.
KELLY
Well --
HAYDEN (CONT'D)
Well, I'm glad you're here because you two
have got some explaining to do.
KELLY
(FIDGETY) I'm glad that your glad we're here because
we were kind of hoping we could stay for a couple of days.
HAYDEN
What?
STUART
We ran out of money and had to cut our trip short
. . . but we had already lent our apartment to some
friends, and would hate to impose on them.
HAYDEN
Well, I wouldn't want you to impose on anyone, Stuart.
HAYDEN (CONT'D)
(BEAT) Just tell me one thing, Kelly. Did you run out of money
before or after you rung up eighteen hundred dollars on my credit card?
KELLY
Dad! I can't believe you'd think us so irresponsible.
We would never abuse your credit card like that. We couldn't.
HAYDEN
Well, that's a relief.
KELLY
We lost your card three days ago.
HAYDEN IS ABOUT TO DUMP ON KELLY WHEN STUART POPS OUT FROM BEHIND HER WITH A CAMERA AND SNAPS A PICTURE OF HIM.
HAYDEN IS STUNNED. HE TRIES TO GRAB HIM, BUT STUART'S TOO QUICK. THEY BOB FROM SIDE TO SIDE, WITH KELLY IN THE MIDDLE. FINALLY, HAYDEN MANAGES TO GET THE CAMERA OUT OF STUART'S HAND.
HAYDEN OPENS THE BACK OF THE CAMERA AND PULLS OUT THE FILM.
KELLY (CONT'D)
(IN WAY OF APOLOGIZING) We could really use that money, Dad.
Especially since Stuart lost his job at the school paper.
HAYDEN AND STUART BOTH STARE AT KELLY IN DISBELIEF.
HAYDEN
What job at the school paper?
HAYDEN TOSSES STUART'S CAMERA ONTO THE SOFA, THEN MAGICALLY PRODUCES THE MAGNIFYING GLASS AND A "HOTHEAD HAYDEN" CARTOON FROM HIS JACKET POCKETS. HE EXAMINES THE CARTOON, THEN SLOWLY RAISES HIS HEAD TO GAZE AT STUART THROUGH THE MAGNIFYING GLASS.
HAYDEN LOWERS THE MAGNIFYING GLASS, A WICKED SMILE ON HIS FACE.
LIKE A CORNERED ANIMAL, STUART FURTIVELY SEARCHES FOR AN ESCAPE ROUTE AS HAYDEN SLOWLY CLOSES IN ON HIM.
HAYDEN
You're creative and sensitive, aren't you Stuart?
STUART
I'd like to think that we're all sensitive and
understanding human beings, Sir.
CHRISTINE
What are you going to do, Hayden?
HAYDEN
Only what's justified, Christine. I'm going to kill him.
STUART EYES THE CAMERA ON THE SOFA. HAYDEN SUDDENLY REALIZES WHAT STUART'S THINKING.
THEY BOTH DIVE FOR IT. STUART SCOOPS UP THE CAMERA AND SCOOTS UP AND OVER THE BACK OF THE COUCH AN INSTANT BEFORE HAYDEN'S BULK CRASHES INTO THE SOFA.
STUART TRIES TO SNAP A PICTURE OF HAYDEN AS HE CLAWS HIS WAY OVER THE SOFA. STUART OPENS THE BACK OF THE CAMERA. IT'S EMPTY.
STUART
(A QUICK SHRIEK) Eeeekk!
KELLY
Stuart. Catch!
KELLY TOSSES A CARTRIDGE OF FILM TO STUART. HAYDEN STRETCHES TO INTERCEPT THE PASS, LEANS OVER TOO FAR AND FALLS OFF THE BACK OF THE COUCH.
STUART POPS THE FILM IN THE CAMERA AND AIMS IT IN HAYDEN'S FACE AS HE SCRAMBLES UP OFF THE FLOOR.
HAYDEN FREEZES. HE PUTS ON HIS CRAZY SMILE FOR THE CAMERA, BUT HE CAN'T CONTAIN HIMSELF ANY LONGER. HE BEGINS TO SHAKE VIOLENTLY, LIKE A VOLCANO BEFORE IT ERUPTS.
HAYDEN
(LIKE A MANTRA) Five thousand dollars. Five thousand dollars.
Five thousand dollars . . .
KELLY
(TO CHRISTINE) What's wrong with Dad? Why does he
keep saying five thousand dollars?
CHRISTINE WALKS OVER TO HAYDEN, PUTS HIS HAT BACK ON HIS HEAD AND ZIPS UP HIS COAT.
CHRISTINE
Your father's just a little hungry. Aren't you, Hayden?
HAYDEN CONTINUES MUMBLING TO HIMSELF. CHRISTINE GUIDES HAYDEN TO THE DOOR AND OPENS IT. SHE PUSHES HIM THROUGH THE DOOR THEN TURNS TO THE KIDS.
CHRISTINE (CONT'D)
We're just going to go out for a bite. We'll probably
be back late so don't wait up. Oh, and Stuart. It
probably won't be necessary, but you may want to move the bureau
in front of your bedroom door before you go to sleep tonight.
WE HEAR AN UNINTELLIGIBLE GROWL FROM HAYDEN (O.S.).
CHRISTINE (CONT'D)
(NODS) Good idea.
CUT TO:
INT - THE TOUCHDOWN CLUB - NIGHT
HAYDEN AND CHRISTINE SIT AT A TABLE, HAVING JUST FINISHED THEIR MEAL. THE OTHER TABLES ARE OCCUPIED BY THE USUAL DINNER CROWD. AT THE BAR, A TRUCKDRIVER IS MOVING IN ON A YOUNG WOMAN SITTING TWO STOOLS DOWN. HAYDEN SITS WITH HIS BACK TOWARD THE BAR.
THE WAITER COMES, CLEARS AWAY THEIR PLATES, AND HEADS BACK TO THE KITCHEN.
CHRISTINE
Feeling better?
HAYDEN
Boy, I sure have to hand it to you, Christine. This was
a great idea. I really feel like I'm starting to relax.
CHRISTINE
I think you're doing a great job, Hayden. You barely
said a word to that guy in the parking lot when he tore
off your back bumper.
HAYDEN'S EXAGGERATED NOD SHOWS US THAT THE STORM IS STILL BREWING UNDER HIS CALM EXTERIOR.
THE WAITER COMES BACK WITH A POT OF HOT COFFEE.
WAITER
(TO CHRISTINE) Coffee?
CHRISTINE
No, thank you.
WAITER
Coffee, Sir?
HAYDEN
Yeah. Sure.
AS THE WAITER POURS THE COFFEE, HE'S DISTRACTED BY A COMMOTION TO HIS SIDE. THE WOMAN AT THE BAR, FED UP WITH THE DRUNKEN TRUCKDRIVER'S CRUDE COME-ONS,SLAPS HIM ACROSS THE FACE AND STOMPS OUT IN A HUFF. THE WAITER'S EYES FOLLOW THE WOMAN WHILE THE COFFEE OVERFLOWS INTO HAYDEN'S LAP.
HAYDEN JUMPS UP IN PAIN. BUT BEFORE HE CAN GET A WORD OUT, HALF A DOZEN FLASHBULBS FLASH AND CAMERA SHUTTERS CLICK (O.S.) FROM VARIOUS TABLES THROUGHOUT THE ROOM.
HAYDEN SMILES AT THE WAITER THROUGH CLENCHED TEETH. THE WAITER IS ABOUT TO WIPE HAYDEN'S CROTCH WITH A TOWEL. HAYDEN GLARES, SHAKES HIS HEAD NO. THE WAITER SCAMPERS AWAY.
HAYDEN'S FORCED SMILE SWEEPS ACROSS THE ROOM TO ACKNOWLEDGE THE PHOTOGRAPHERS, EACH OF WHOM WHITHER UNDER HIS STARE AND GO BACK TO THEIR MEALS.
HAYDEN SITS DOWN.
CHRISTINE
Are you okay, Hayden?
HAYDEN
No, I'm not okay, Christine. I've had it with this stupid bet.
If I have to stifle myself one more time I think I'll pop a blood vessel.
CHRISTINE
Hayden, You have less than two days to go. You can't quit now.
HAYDEN
Well, it's not like I haven't been trying, Christine.
(LAMENTING) I should have known this was a sucker bet.
Nobody can hold their temper for an entire week.
CHRISTINE
That's not true, Hayden. I can go for weeks
without so much as raising my voice.
HAYDEN
But you're a woman, Christine.
CHRISTINE
What's that supposed to mean?
HAYDEN
You know as well as I that women never let anything
stew long enough to boil over. The tiniest, little thing annoys them,
you hear about it. Nagging is a woman's pressure release valve.
CHRISTINE
(MIFFED) I see.
HAYDEN
Men, on the other hand, hold back their anger and frustrations
just long enough to build up the kind of pent up hostility it takes
to really do a number on someone. (PHILOSOPHICAL) God made us
that way for a reason, Christine. Look at the lion, king of the beasts.
If he had to control his temper, he'd never be able to hunt and bring
home nourishment for his mate and defenseless cubs.
CHRISTINE
The lioness does all the hunting, Hayden.
HAYDEN
Well, that's a bad example. Obviously, the female biological drive
to do the food shopping is stronger than the male need for physical violence.
CHRISTINE
I don't know, Hayden. I'm beginning to feel a pretty strong
female need for some physical violence right about now.
HAYDEN
All I'm saying is it's not natural to hold in this much hostility.
Getting mad and blowing up at people is what being a man is all about.
(BOWS HIS HEAD, ASHAMED) And, well, if I can't get mad, then I
can't be much of a man.
CHRISTINE
Oh, Hayden. Don't be silly. You're still a man.
In fact, you're more of a man.
HAYDEN LOOKS UP AT CHRISTINE.
CHRISTINE (CONT'D)
You do have a temper. And, I've learned to live with that.
WE SEE THE TRUCKDRIVER AT THE BAR MAKING EYES AT CHRISTINE IN THE BACKGROUND. CHRISTINE SEES HIM, BUT IS TRYING HARD TO IGNORE HIM.
CHRISTINE (CONT'D)
I must confess, Hayden. Sometimes a show of strength can
be . . . well . . . appealing.
THE TRUCKDRIVER STARTS MAKING KISSY FACES TO CHRISTINE.
SHE IS HAVING DIFFICULTY IGNORING HIM, SINCE HE IS IN HER LINE OF VISION WHEN LOOKING AT HAYDEN.
CHRISTINE (CONT'D)
But, being a man doesn't mean you have to . . .
HAYDEN BEGINS TO SUSPECT SOMETHING.
CHRISTINE (CONT'D)
. . . fly off the handle every time somebody . . .
HAYDEN TURNS AND LOOKS AT THE TRUCKDRIVER, THEN BACK AT CHRISTINE.
CHRISTINE
. . . looks at you cross-eyed--
HAYDEN
Is that guy bothering you?
CHRISTINE
No. Whatever gave you that idea?
HAYDEN
(ANNOYED) I don't know. Maybe one of those kisses he's blowing
hit me in the back of the neck.
HAYDEN STANDS UP AND PUSHES IN HIS CHAIR.
CHRISTINE
Hayden, please. Sit down. The man's obviously drunk.
He's probably just looking for a fight.
HAYDEN
So? I'm not man enough to defend your honor?
Is that what you're telling me, Christine?
CHRISTINE
Of course not, Hayden. It's just you've come so far.
Don't give in now. Think of everything you'll be throwing away if you do.
Think of Hawaii. Think of the beach. (SEXY) Think of my black, string bikini.
HAYDEN GENUINELY SMILES, PULLS OUT HIS CHAIR TO SIT BACK DOWN.
HAYDEN
Well, put it that way, and--
TRUCKDRIVER
Hey, bonehead. Get outta the way so I can
get a better look at my girlfriend.
HAYDEN GETS A CRAZED GRIN ON HIS FACE AND SLOWLY TURNS AROUND. CHRISTINE DROPS HER HEAD FORWARD UNTIL IT HITS THE TABLE TOP. A HALF DOZEN PHOTOGRAPHERS LEAP FROM THEIR TABLES AND POSITION THEMSELVES STRATEGICALLY THROUGHOUT THE RESTAURANT.
HAYDEN
Are you talking to me?
HAYDEN WALKS OVER TO THE TRUCKDRIVER AT THE BAR. THE TRUCKDRIVER STANDS UP AS HAYDEN APPROACHES.
TRUCKDRIVER
If the head fits.
THE TRUCKDRIVER PRESSES A MEATY INDEX FINGER INTO HAYDEN'S CHEST. THE PHOTOGRAPHERS SHIFT ANXIOUSLY. HAYDEN SMILES HIS CRAZED SMILE, LOOKS AT THE PHOTOGRAPHERS, THEN AT HIS WATCH.
HAYDEN
Boy, it's getting late. Christine, we better get going.
HAYDEN TURNS AND HURRIES TOWARD CHRISTINE WHO ALREADY HAS HER COAT HALF ON.
TRUCKDRIVER
Woman.
HAYDEN STOPS IN HIS TRACKS. CHRISTINE SLUMPS FORWARD ONTO THE TABLE AGAIN. HAYDEN TURNS AROUND AND WALKS STRAIGHT UP TO THE TRUCKDRIVER. THEY STAND NOSE TO NOSE.
HAYDEN
Would you like to call me that outside?
TRUCKDRIVER
It would be my pleasure.
THE PHOTOGRAPHERS DASH OUT THE DOOR. DAUBER AND JUDY ENTER AND JOCKEY THEIR WAY THROUGH THE STAMPEDE OF CAMERAMEN. DAUBER SPOTS HAYDEN AS THE TWO OPPONENTS ARE ON THEIR WAY OUT. HE BLOCKS THEIR EXIT.
DAUBER
Hi, Coach! Glad you're here. Judy and I thought we'd
go out to eat and see if we couldn't work out a schedule for
using the track. You know, kind of so that the right foot
knows what the left foot is doing.
HAYDEN GIVES HIM A LOOK.
DAUBER (CONT'D)
Sorry, Coach.
TRUCKDRIVER
Hey. Are we going outside or what?
DAUBER
Whose your friend, Coach?
HAYDEN
He's not a friend, Dauber. We're going outside
so I can punch his lights out.
DAUBER
A fight? But Coach, you only have another thirty six hours to
go to win your bet. What could be worth five thousand dollars?
HAYDEN
I'm defending Christine's honor.
DAUBER LOOKS OVER AT HAYDEN'S TABLE. CHRISTINE IS SLUMPED FORWARD, ARMS AT HER SIDE, FACE ON THE TABLE.
DAUBER
He killed her?!
CHRISTINE LIFTS HER HEAD AND GIVES DAUBER A LOOK.
DAUBER (CONT'D)
(SIGHS) What a relief!
JUDY
Hayden. Normally, I'd be all for this fight. Watching two
clowns clobber each other is just so much fun. But I saw a
side of you this week that I've never seen before. And, well,
I hate to admit it, but I liked you, Hayden. You deserve to
go to the Hula Bowl. I'd hate to see you blow it over some
stupid barroom brawl.
DAUBER
Judy's right, Coach. Fighting is no way to solve your problems.
Any differences you two may have I'm sure can be settled like
civilized human beings. You are a new, enlightened Coach Fox.
You don't need these (SHOWS HIS FISTS) to do your talking
for you, anymore.
TRUCKDRIVER
Nice speech, Stretch. Now, why don't you and Mrs. Green Giant
go can some vegetables.
DAUBER GLANCES AT HIS OWN RAISED FISTS.
DAUBER
Excuse me, Coach.
DAUBER GRABS THE TRUCKDRIVER BY THE WRIST, TWISTS HIS ARM BEHIND HIS BACK, AND FORCE MARCHES HIM OUT THE DOOR.
HAYDEN AND JUDY EXCHANGE LOOKS AS WE . . .
CUT TO:
INT - COACH'S OFFICE - DAY
HAYDEN SITS AT HIS DESK, SORTING HIS MAIL. HE PULLS A LARGE, MANILLA ENVELOPE FROM THE PILE, LEANS BACK IN HIS CHAIR AND SMILES.
LUTHER ENTERS.
HAYDEN
Hey, Luther.
LUTHER
Don't you mean hey Judas?
HAYDEN
Naw! I'm not mad at you anymore, Luther. I've learned to
accept the fact that five hundred dollars is worth more to
you than twenty-four years of undying loyalty and friendship.
LUTHER
Good. Cause I have something to tell you.
HAYDEN
(WARY) What's that?
LUTHER
I never had any film in my camera. I just wanted
to keep you honest.
HAYDEN'S BOTTOM JAW HITS THE FLOOR.
LUTHER (CONT'D)
Well, you didn't want to be known as
a big, fat cheater, did you?
HAYDEN CLOSES HIS MOUTH, THEN CLAMPS IT SHUT WITH A GREAT, FAKE SMILE. DAUBER ENTERS CARRYING A NEWSPAPER.
DAUBER
Hey, Coach. Did you see the paper?
HAYDEN
No, Daub. Do I want to see the paper?
DAUBER SLAPS THE PAPER DOWN IN FRONT OF COACH. DAUBER AND LUTHER COME AROUND TO HAYDEN'S SIDE OF THE DESK TO READ IT.
DAUBER
I made the front page!
HAYDEN DROPS HIS HEAD IN HIS HANDS.
LUTHER
What's that you're trying to jam up his nose.
DAUBER
(PROUDLY) A tailpipe.
HAYDEN SLOWLY FOLDS THE PAPER AND PUTS IT OVER TO ONE SIDE OF HIS DESK. HE PICKS UP THE MANILLA ENVELOPE.
HAYDEN
Forcing that truckdriver to eat his own exhaust was a great idea,
Dauber. But did you have to make a media event out of it?
DAUBER
I didn't have a choice, Coach. There were more photographers in
that parking lot than there were at the Ali/Frasier fights.
HAYDEN
That's all right, Dauber. It's just that, as a team, we're
going to have to be a little extra careful about our image
with the press, now that I'm an All-Star coach.
HAYDEN SHOWS THEM THE ENVELOPE.
DAUBER
Wow!
LUTHER
That's great, Hayden. What did they say?
HAYDEN
(EXCITED) I don't know. I haven't opened it yet.
LUTHER
Well how do you know you were accepted?
HAYDEN
Just look at the size of this packet. What do think, they
sent me a forty-page thesis on why they didn't select me?
DAUBER
Go ahead, Coach. Open it up.
HAYDEN
Yeah. It's probably a bunch of brochures about Hawaii.
HAYDEN RIPS OPEN THE TOP OF THE ENVELOPE AND PULLS OUT A HAND-BOUND BOOKLET AND A SINGLE-PAGE LETTER. WITHOUT LOOKING AT THE BOOKLET, HE READS THE LETTER.
HAYDEN (CONT'D)
Dear Coach Fox. We are sorry to inform you that your services
will not be required at the Hula Bowl this year. P.S. Thanks for the
book, it was a hoot. Sincerely, College All-Star Games Committee.
HAYDEN LOOKS AT THE COVER OF THE BOOKLET THEN FREEZES LIKE A STATUE.
LUTHER
Hayden?
(LOOKS INTO COACH'S EXPRESSIONLESS FACE)
Hayden?
LUTHER PRIES THE BOOKLET OUT OF HAYDEN'S HAND AND READS THE COVER.
LUTHER
Hothead Hayden . . . the book. Compiled and edited by Walter Dix.
HAYDEN GETS A CRAZED LOOK ON HIS FACE, RISES, AND SLOWLY HEADS FOR THE DOOR. DAUBER WATCHES, WORRIED. LUTHER FLIPS THROUGH THE BOOK.
DAUBER
Coach. Don't do anything rash. Remember the bet.
You've only got fifteen hours to go!
LUTHER
(LOOKS UP FROM BOOK AS HAYDEN OPENS THE DOOR)
Can I have this?
HAYDEN EXITS WITHOUT A WORD.
CUT TO:
INT - OUTSIDE WALT DIX'S OFFICE - DAY
WALT DIX WALKS UP TO THE DOOR OF HIS OFFICE CARRYING A CUP OF COFFEE AND A BAG OF DONUTS. HE OPENS THE DOOR.
WE SEE HAYDEN SITTING IN A CHAIR, THE CRAZED SMILE STILL ON HIS FACE. HE LOOKS AS IF HE'S BEEN THERE ALL NIGHT.
A VERY LARGE BAG OF FERTILIZER RESTS ON THE FLOOR NEXT TO HAYDEN'S CHAIR.
RESET TO:
INT - INSIDE DIX'S OFFICE - DAY
DIX ENTERS HIS OFFICE, CLOSES THE DOOR BEHIND HIM. HE LOOKS UP AND SEES HAYDEN FOR THE FIRST TIME.
DIX
Coach Fox! What are you doing here?
WE HEAR A BEEP-BEEP-BEEP-BEEP AS DIX'S ALARM WATCH GOES OFF AND WE . . .
CUT TO BLACK.
SFX: SOUND OF MANURE SLIDING OUT OF THE BAG AND HITTING THE FLOOR.
THE END