| Indiscretions |
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A car drives down the main street in the business district of a small town. The town is decorated in pennants, streamers, and signs- all in shades of crimson, white, and light blue. The car pulls into an angled parking space in front of a diner. The door opens, and Casey steps out of the car. He removes his sunglasses as he closes the door. Casey takes his keys and presses a button on a small remote.
WROO-WROO!!! WROO-WROO!!! The car alarm goes off.
Casey frantically points the remote at the car and presses various buttons. He finally hits the right combination to turn off the alarm.
Casey: Stupid rental car.
Casey carefully presses another button on the remote.
BOO-WOOP!
Casey breathes a sigh of relief as the alarm is finally set. He looks around at the various town's people. Some are either staring at him because of the commotion, or they recognize him as an outsider to the community. They may be staring at him because of both.
Casey walks up on the sidewalk and pulls open the door to the diner. As he steps inside, the diner is probably thirty years old, never once having changed the decor. The waitress behind the counter wears a white uniform and greets Casey as he enters. The restaurant is about one-quarter full. Casey looks around the restaurant, and he spots a gentleman sitting alone in a side booth.
Casey makes his way over to the gentleman at the table.
Casey: Hi. I'm Casey McCall.
The gentleman stands up and shakes Casey's hand.
Gentleman: Jack Christensen. Thanks for comin'. Have a seat.
The two men sit at the table.
Jack: Didn't have a tough time gettin' here, did you?
Casey: It's hard to miss the city when it's decorated in the school colors.
Jack: All this town has is the Legionnaire. Without football, we'd be nothin'.
Casey: So you brought me down to central Louisiana to turn you into nothing?
Jack: Here comes the waitress.
The waitress comes over to take their order.
Waitress: What'll ya' have, hun?
Jack: Gimme some of the fried catfish with those hush puppies. I'll get some slaw and coffee- black- to go with that.
The waitress carefully writes down Jack's order.
Waitress: What for ya', hun?
Casey: I'll just have a coffee.
Waitress: It's lunchtime, hun. Don't ya' want something more?
Casey: Uh... I don't know... what do you recommend?
Jack: Bring 'em what I'm gettin'.
Waitress: Sure thing, hun.
The waitress cracks her gum as she leaves the table.
Jack: It's a busy part of their day. Can't keep 'em waitin'.
Casey: Thanks.
Jack: Welcome.
From beneath the seat, Jack pulls out some bound papers and hands them to Casey.
Casey: Hold on for a second there. Do you want to do this right now? In front of all these people?
Jack: They don't know nothin'. They'd already know you-ins here in Pappadeaux to do a big story on the Legionnaire. They big powerhouse team now.
Casey: But I'm not here to do that kind of story.
Jack: Like I said, they know nothin'.
Casey looks around the restaurant. All the patrons are tending to their lunches and paying no attention to the two at the table.
Casey: Just leave the papers there. In fact, why don't you keep them right over there, where you got them. At least, until we finish our meals.
Jack pushes the papers to the side of the table next to the wall.
Jack: That stuff has all the information you need.
Casey: I do have a few questions for you, though.
Jack: They be answered in the papers, you see.
Casey: No, sir. They're about you.
Jack looks mildly surprised.
Jack: What about me?
Casey: Why didn't you go to the authorities- the NCAA- about these charges.
Jack: I ain't no fool. I've got business to take care of here. I've got kids to raise. I don't want people knowin' about me. They'd drive me and my family out of town. Pappadeaux is very to themselves. But when you try to hurt Pappadeaux, Pappadeaux come back and try to hurt you.
Casey: Then why come to me?
Jack: Cause you can keep a secret. You are supposed to keep your sources quiet. There's enough stuff in these papers to help you with the investigation. My name don't need come up in this, and that's the way it should be.
Casey: I see. I also noticed you had a nephew on the team.
Jack: You just knowin' all the answers.
Casey: I wouldn't come down to central Louisiana without doing some initial investigating.
Jack: You doin' a good job. That's why I wrote you.
Casey: Mr. Christensen? Your nephew?
Jack: He don't be playin' anyway. He got a broken leg last year and dang Coach Fontenot don't play him after he get better. We stopped takin' money from them anyway.
Casey: You do realize that your nephew will still be implicated, whether he took money then or if he's taking money now? It doesn't matter in the eyes of an NCAA committee.
Jack: I know.
Casey: Just as long as you are aware of this. If the school is found guilty, they'll be placed on probation and lose scholarships. Some of these people, including your nephew, may be charged with crimes.
Jack: I know.
Casey: Okay.
Jack: This will be the best dang catfish you ever tasted.
The waitress comes over with both of their meals. She sets their mugs of coffee down in front of the two, followed by the two main dishes.
Casey looks down at his plate. The fried catfish is just that- a small whole fried catfish with head, tail, and all.
Waitress: Anything else for ya', hun?
Casey stares at his plate in astonishment.
Jack: That be all. Thanks.
As the waitress leaves, Jack immediately begins digging into his lunch. Casey just stares at his catfish.
Jack: What's the matter? Ain't never eaten catfish before?
Casey: Not when the head is still on it.
Jack: It's good and fresh. Probably caught this mornin'.
Casey pokes the catfish with his fork.
Casey: The head is still on my catfish.
With a mouth full of food, Jack laughs.
Jack: City boy.
Casey just stares at his lunch.
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Dan is leaving his office. He sees Natalie in the newsroom.
Dan: Natalie.
Natalie: Yo, Dan. We're going to have to double up on games tonight. Another full slate with the schedules. Plus, the four block is twenty seconds too long. And you sent me an e-mail.
The two begin walking and talking through the newsroom.
Dan: I can help with the games, I'll cut the twenty from Peyton Manning, and I did send you an e-mail.
Natalie: How far is it from your office to my desk?
Dan: I don't know. Probably about twenty, maybe thirty feet.
Natalie: Right. You could have just told me instead of spending time sending me e-mail.
Dan: Did I do something wrong?
Natalie: You sent me an e-mail.
Dan: It took me a minute to write it and send it off to you.
Natalie: Only a minute, huh?
Dan: Yeah. Am I being charged with something?
Natalie: No. Do you think I'm attractive?
Dan checks out Natalie.
Dan: Of course. You're beautiful. You're smart. You've got a good head on your shoulders.
Natalie: Don't I?
Dan: Yes.
Natalie: And I thought that, too.
Dan: Good for you.
Natalie: Then why hasn't he written me?
Dan: Who?
Natalie: Michael.
Dan: Your boyfriend, Michael?
Natalie: No. Michael Jordan. Of course my Michael.
Dan: I don't know.
Natalie: He's out there in California, shooting his screenplay. I am playing the part of the concerned girlfriend by sending him e-mails and leaving him various messages on his voice mail. You'd think he would have time to respond to his girlfriend because, frankly, I am very concerned about his well-being.
Dan: When was the last time you heard from him?
Natalie: Last week.
Dan: When last week?
Natalie: Eight days ago.
Dan: Eight days ago?
Natalie: See? You made it sound a lot longer than it really is.
Dan: It's eight days.
Natalie: And you know, he writes for a living. You'd think he could spare one minute to respond to one- just one- of my e-mails. But noooo, Mr. Hollywood can't spare a moment away from his precious movie to let his girlfriend know how everything is going.
Dan: Maybe everything isn't okay.
Natalie: What do you mean?
Dan: I'm just saying it's quite possible, yet I am speculating, that your boyfriend may be injured and lying in a hospital bed out there in Hollywood. He might have amnesia or something. Maybe that's why he hasn't written you.
Natalie: Or maybe my computer is unable to receive e-mail.
Dan: But I sent you an e-mail.
Natalie: Danny? On my clipboard, I have a pen attached to it. This blunt object can be used as a weapon-
Dan: Or maybe your computer is unable to receive e-mail.
Natalie: Right.
Dan: I wouldn't worry about it.
Natalie is momentarily distracted.
Natalie: Chris, Will? Make sure graphics has 22 over-the-shoulder.
Chris: 22 or 22a?
Will: She said 22.
Chris: I'm just asking.
Natalie: It's 22 over-the-shoulder.
Chris: Not a problem.
Natalie and Dan continue walking and talking down a corridor.
Dan: So, Natalie... I need to ask you something.
Natalie: Ask away.
Dan: You're a woman-
Natalie: I'm glad you noticed.
Dan: Are you going to let me ask you?
Natalie: Maybe.
Dan: Anyway, I'm wondering about living with roommates-
Natalie: You live by yourself.
Dan: I am aware of that.
Natalie: I, on the other hand, have three roommates.
Dan: Which is why I'm asking.
Natalie: Ask away.
Dan stops walking as the two reach the studio. He reaches over and gently grabs Natalie by the shoulders.
Dan: Is there a certain comfort point you reach with your roommates when it's acceptable to leave your clothing lying around while running around nearly naked?
Natalie: Do you want to come over for a pajama party?
Dan: No.
Natalie: Good, because you're not invited.
Natalie starts walking through the studio.
Dan: Wait... you guys have pajama parties?
Natalie: That's for me to know and for you to find out.
-----
Dana is walking around her office when Isaac knocks on the door.
Dana: Isaac, come in.
Isaac: Good afternoon, Dana.
Dana: It's rare that I see you in here.
Isaac: I know.
Dana: I usually see you in your office.
Isaac: Yes.
Dana: It's the other way around this time.
Isaac: I am well aware of that.
Dana: So, what brings you in here?
Isaac: The show.
Dana: Our show?
Isaac: Yes.
Dana: What about it?
Isaac: If we're going to play these games, Dana, I might as well have a seat.
Dana: I'll shut up.
Isaac: Okay. Is everything all right?
Dana: Sure.
Isaac: Everything is all right with the show?
Dana: Yes. Why do you ask?
Isaac: I've noticed over the past few weeks that you've been substituting the network's judgment for your own.
Dana: That's because they've been right.
Isaac: You've been leading with the Ryder Cup all week.
Dana: Yes.
Isaac: Because that's what the network wanted.
Dana: Yes.
Isaac: Dana? I first hired you because you were aggressive, you did a thorough job, and you had superior judgment.
Dana: I was your girl. I was your girl when we started up 6 years ago.
Isaac: What happened?
Dana: I'm not their girl.
Isaac: Who's girl?
Dana: The network's.
Isaac: What are you saying, Dana?
Dana: What I'm saying is that when I first came to Continental Corp., I was the executive producer of the anchor show. I was hired to lead "Sports Night," and the network had confidence in me that I could help build CSC. Now with the executives fawning over Sally, it's obvious that they've lost some of that confidence in me.
Isaac: I still have confidence in you.
Dana: They are just looking for a reason to replace me, Isaac. I don't think this is the time to be going against their judgment. It's important that I play ball with them. Do you know why it's important that I play ball with them?
Isaac: Why?
Dana: Because I'm not their girl.
