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Tomorrow the Green Grass
by matt dupont (dupac4life_nee@yahoo.com)

Rated: R   Genre: Comedy   User Review:

Harold Pauter discovers the cure for baldness, and quickly leaves his wife. He drives to Reno to flaunt his new mane and pick up women.

This screenplay is copyrighted to its author. All rights reserved. This screenplay may not be used or reproduced without the express written permission of the author.


HAROLD, 8, sits at the kitchen table while his MOTHER, PAM
POUTER grabs a soda out of the fridge, and fills a glass
full of ice.
Harold is wearing a Dr. Pepper t-shirt and a Minnesota Twins
hat with short red shorts with a white line on each side.
The summer sun shines through the kitchen as Chris Evert
plays Hana Mandlikova on the kitchen television and Pam
tries to follow.
Harold, go bring this to your Dad.
He's going to give himself a heat
Can't you?
Harold grabs the glass and half empty can. They hear a loud
banging noise from the garage paired with undecipherable
shouting. Harold looks up at his Mom with apprehension.
Oh, now. Don't worry about him, he
won't yell at you. He's just
yelling at the lawnmower.
Harold forces a smile, and makes his way downstairs to the
Harold has trouble getting the door open and closed because
he is trying to keep a hold on the glass and the soda can.
He finally shuts the door.


He looks over and sees his FATHER, MR. PAUTER fumbling with
the riding lawnmower. He has the engine cover removed and is
sweeping dried grass from around the motor.
Simon and Garfunkle's "The Boxer" PLAY from the outdoor
The flying dust and grass circle Mr. Pauter's head, making
his eyes water. He squints hard and squeezes his nose.
Harold watches in anticipation.
Mr. Pauter looks over at Harold, and motions for him to stay
put. He puts the cover on the motor and starts it
successfully. He lets it run for a second, causing more
particles to fly around. He shuts it off, and grabs his
                       MR. PAUTER
Ahhh, great, thanks. You didn't
get yourself one?
Harold shakes his head no.
                       MR. PAUTER (cont'd)
You can have what's left in the
Mr. Pauter pours the glass full, lets the foam settle a bit,
and pours more. He gives the can to Harold. Harold finishes
Mr. Pauter swipes his messy,long thinning hair over to cover
his shimmering sweaty head. He puts his hand on Harold's
shoulder proudly.
Harold looks up at his dad, and then at the lawnmower.


Harold sits on the front edge of the riding lawnmower's seat
in front of Mr. Pauter. Together they outline the border of
the back yard. Branches from bushes brush their faces.
Mr.Pauter deflects most of them with his arm, protecting
The lawnmower passes in front of the backyard deck, where
Pam Pauter is watching from and waving excitedly. Harold,
ecstatic, waves back.
A loud CRACK sounds from the mower. A golf ball from under
the lawnmower sails and beams Pam in the eye, knocking her
over. She lets out a blood curdling scream.
The sound of the lawnmower continues, as we Dissolve to:
In the midst of chipping golf balls over his pool at a large
plastic garbage can, a grownup Harold stares in the
distance, as he returns from a heavy daydream.
Harold is staring in the general direction of a MEXICAN, who
has just shut off the blades on his mower. He continues
towards the fence door to leave.
With the fading sound of the mower, he hears PARROTS nearby
in the canopy. Branches rustle.
Where in god's name do these... I
mean for Christ's sake, these
noisy sons of-
Harold is now 33. His face is ruggedly handsome, and his
dark hair is thin, scraggly and receding.
He tries to locate the parrots, but is blinded by the
morning sun breaking through the trees. They squawk louder
to his dismay. He looks down at the ground in frustration as
if they were making noise intentionally in spite of him.


                       HAROLD (cont'd)
It's always something.
With golf club in hand, Harold drops a ball upon a tuft of
grass and swings as hard as he can towards the trees where
the parrots clatter. The ball ricochets off the base of a
palm tree and cracks back into his shin.
Fuuuck...yep! yep! -- of course!
(he jumps around, and tries to rub
off the pain)
God dammit.
He limps inside through the screen door to the kitchen.
      (to Laura)
Those goddamn birds are killing
me. Ya know? You move to a
secluded area, so you can avoid
fricken antagonistic and
distracting noises that may
disturb your concentration...that
you need to work and live and-
Take it easy Harold- What
Nothing. I mean, this is my home.
This is my office. This is
everything. And now CAAAAACK,
(he makes the noises while
flapping his arms), and I can't
even see the goddamn things.
LAURA Pauter looks up at him annoyed. She has natural good
looks and wears little makeup.
My Mother says she'd kill to have
parrots in her backyard. All they
have are sparrows and


                       LAURA (cont'd)
barn-swallows, and they try to
dive at her head when she changes
the bird bath. Be thankful.
Yeah, well you tell her that her
wish may come true. As soon as I
start popping these menacing
...technicolor crows...she just
might be receiving some bulky
fed-ex packages. I'm sure she can
find space in her backyard for
Harold enjoys seeing his wife's face light up, but becomes
With pinky finger extended, he gently scratches the top of
his head. He is pained by the inconvenience of having to
waste time being so cautious with his fragile hair supply.
Well. Have a good day at work. I
better get working myself. You
know how I can let the time slip
by joking around too much.
Laura's glow fades. She's disappointed, but resilient. She
turns and bends down, grabs her things and walks towards
Come here you little whiny brat.
Laura pulls Harold towards her and gives him a kiss goodbye.
He tenses up.


Harold scratches his head again, pauses a beat, then
nonchalantly backs away, looking down and scratching the
back of his head where the hair is thick.
Oh, and hun? Could you be sure to
grab the mail on the way in when
you get home. I probably won't get
a chance.
She pauses and then sighs.
Sure. Hermit boy.
She readjusts her bags onto her shoulder as she walks
towards the garage.
Harold watches her leave, rolling his eyes at the comment.
Harold finishes his shower, then towel dries his hair with
all the care of handling an infant.
He is preserving the last of his fading crop, again being as
cautious as possible.
He blots his body and glances in the mirror at his head.
      (to his hair)
Yeah, thanks guys. Just throw down
your weapons and run away. Fricken
cowards. Well I'm not done
fighting, and where will you be?.
At the bottom of my sink, and I'll
be...I'll be somewhere else you
miserable deserters.
(laughs it off)
Harold trots down the stairs, stopping by the kitchen for a
cup of coffee, and continues down another flight of stairs.


When he reaches the bottom, the room lights up
automatically, revealing what looks like a cross between a
bachelor pad, and a laboratory.
In one part of the room, a custom seat resembling a dental
chair has several cameras aimed at it. A monitor floats
above the chair from a cable in the ceiling.
Harold walks past this, and sets his coffee on a table in
front of a comfortable looking white leather couch in
another part of the room. This is more casual, and has a big
screen t.v. and entertainment center.
He puts a wireless keyboard on his lap, and puts on a
headset with mic. His t.v. is hooked up to his computer, and
he clicks on the videophone function. The screen reads
"Calling Dook", and shows a still photo of his friend DOOK.
He answers, and we can see him at his desk. He's 32, bald,
and Asian, and looks much younger than Harold.
      (slight accent,
       trying to sound
Hey, the guy finally calls me
back, huh? Must be excited for the
Weekend? I've been up to my
eyeballs with topical mix packs.
I'll probably work straight
through again.
Great. Concocting more guacamole
looking head packs. Give yourself
a break. Take Laura on a vacation,
or somewhere. Do something. Don't
you ever feel bad for her being
locked up? Geez.


Oh, sorry. What are you going to
do, take your 25 kids to...public
Harold gives a dry smile.
Don't kid yourself buddy, if you
don't give her a baby soon, you're
going to have more than just no
kids around.
Dook shoots him a wise look. Harold sips his coffee and
readjusts his keyboard.
Anyway,I did call for a reason.
I've fed-exed a package of
SUPERLID 24a. I want you to try
No way. With the last stuff,my
hairline moved back three inches.
You call that a hairline?
You said it was only a half inch.
I lost half an inch during the
Vikings playoff loss last season.
Just try it, and don't just throw
it away. I know you were lying
last time about using it, because
I screwed up on your address and
it was returned to me. "Oh yeah,
it was really tingly". (mocking
Dook looks a little shocked at being busted.
The guy doesn't even tell me when
he catches me in a lie. How
cunning and patient of you.


                       DOOK (cont'd)
(a beat)
Fine, I'll really try it, but
after a skin test of course.
Call me.
Through the stairwell, Harold hears a racket. He shuts off
the t.v., and whips off his headset.
The parrots are at it again.
He looks at the ground, and back up. He shakes his head in
anger, and rushes to the storage room next to the stairwell.
Inside Harold's storage room there are neatly put away
tennis rackets, golf bags, and taped up boxes.
Similar shelving on another wall hold various tools. In the
corner between the shelving units is a blue vinyl rifle
Outside of the storage room door, Harold emerges, box of
ammunition in one hand, rifle w/case in the other.
He has what looks like a thick layer of guacamole covering
the balding areas of his head. He doesn't seem encumbered by
Harold walks towards the sliding glass door that leads to
the backyard pool area.
With rifle case and ammo box, Harold fumbles with the door,
finally getting it shut, and walking toward the trees
bordering the backyard.
He sets the rifle down on a patio chair, and puts the ammo
on a table.


      (looking up in the
Helllllooo? What, is this some
sort of cacklefest out here?
After loading the rifle, he looks up at the trees, which are
flowing from a breeze and shimmering from the sun. The
parrots have quieted.
      (to parrots)
Ahhck! Ahhck!. Where are ya, ya
noisy bastards. Plenty of noise
when I'm inside working.
Harold is discouraged and heads back inside.
Harold sits in front of an expensive microscope checking the
molecular struture of one of his own hairs.
The green topical solution on his head has fully dried, and
looks like crusty Halloween face paint.
The hair under magnification looks ordinary.
The answer must lie within. Why
would it fall?
With a tong-like utensil, he manipulates the object in order
to view different angles.
He holds a remote, which has a cord that is connected to the
microscope. With each manipulation, he clicks the button.
The cord is connected to a camera that is shooting pictures
of the scopes view.


Harold places newly developed pictures on a lit florescent
screen, illuminating them. He steps back and inspects each
Harold dries his newly washed head, having washed off the
green mixture.
Quick montage follows, showing Harold poring a beaker of a
green substance mixing in with pure protein and added
ingredients in a bowl, and conducting a skin test.
A: He sits on a desk chair next to an all purpose large
metal sink mixing the solution up in a bowl.
B: On an area of skin on his tricep, he shaves it
completely, and dries it off.
C: He applies some of the mix, the size of a silver dollar.
He wraps gauze around his arm and tapes it.
Be the one.
Harold stands up, wipes sweat from his brow, then lightly
scratches the top of his head.
He shakes his head and sighs, trying not to lose his temper.
Not now!
He frantically looks for a scratching utensil, resisting for
a moment the urge of giving it a full hand scratch. He grabs
a long cue-tip and pulls the cotton off.
He leans back against the counter next to the sink.


      (fighting the itch)
Harold tries scratching his head with a de-cottoned swab. It
doesn't do the trick, so he uses his nails, and begins a 45
second scratching frenzy. He moans in ecstasy.
                       HAROLD (cont'd)
Oh man...oh oh god..
The frenzy winds down after several moments, and Harold
sighs loudly.
He tries to fix his thin frizzy mess of a hairdo with his
hand to straighten it back out. Growing agitated, he brushes
fallen hairs off his nose and face. .
He grabs a fallen hair from his eyebrow and inspects it in
the light above.
Of course...of fucking course!
Harold looks down at the white floor hesitantly.
He bends down and sees 60-70 hairs scattered about on the
floor. Angrily he swipes at them with both hands, and
He stands up to find Laura peeking around the corner holding
back laughter.
      (surprised and
What the hell are you doing!?...
What's so goddamn funny!?... Get
the hell out of here!
I just came down to tell you I-
Harold, red-faced and disheveled continues swiping, trying
to fix his hair.


I don't care, go up-fucking
stairs. You think this shit is
funny? Fuck you.
I wasn't even laughing at that.
You looked so cute.
Oh did I? Go. Please.
Laura looks ready to cry, and flees up the stairs.
Harold leans against the counter and tries to gain his
Harold, 6, sits in the living room with his dad Mr. Pauter
and his Mom Pam during Christmas. Mr. Pauter is in the midst
of opening a present, when a sneeze attack takes over.
When he sneezes, his comb-over flies in all directions, but
most falls right in his face.
With a cotton hankie in one hand working his nose, the other
hand tries to sweep his hair back over his bald head.
Harold is on his side laughing, and his mom covers her
mouth, but is laughing just as hard.
Mr. Pauter tries to defend himself verbally, but is overcome
by oncoming sneezing episodes that disrupt his defense.
Harold smiles and laughs, as he cherishes the memory.
Looking apologetic in the direction of the stairwell, Harold
takes a deep contemplative breath. After a moment he slowly
walks upstairs to find his upset wife.


Laura, sulking, sips a beer on a rocking chair and glares
out at the the setting sun.
Harold opens the door, also drinking a beer. He mopes in
with his head down, feining guilt.
You startled me down there.
(a beat)
You know how I can be when I'm
startled. Gosh.
But why? You're losing your hair.
Get over it. You know that I could
give a shit about your f-ing
hair...and the fact that that
doesn't comfort you at all bothers
me. Especially when it's just the
two of us that live here. Who are
you trying to impress?
Look, I'm real close to a
breakthrough, and I-
You're missing the point. We don't
need money. As far as I'm
concerned, I don't see why you
need hair if it's not something
that bothers me-
It bothers me okay. I don't
bother you about wanting to have
kids so damn early-
We're both in our 30s. How old do
you want to be when our kids are
in high school? 70? I don't know
how long you expect me to make
sacrifices for you, when you're


                       LAURA (cont'd)
becoming even more detached from
our marriage, and I'll be candid -
quite creepy.
Harold looks around for an answer.
Like I said, I'm really close to a
huge breakthrough...and everything
else will work its way out.
Laura, frustrated, walks out of the room.
                       LAURA (o.s.)
Well if that's our only hope, you
might as well get back to work.
Well yeah, that's what I was
trying to-
Harold stops in mid-sentence, realizing her sarcasm.
He walks to the kitchen, and opens the fridge.
      (under his breath)
Nagging bitch.
Harold walks in the lab devouring his sandwich and chasing
it with a glass of milk.
He walks over to the lab fridge, gets out the parrot
solution he made earlier, and sets it on a tray by the
camera-surrounded inspection chair.
He walks over to the stereo system, and puts on music.
He walks back and sits in the chair. He looks down at the
guaze on his wrist where he did the skin test and shrugs.


It's fine.
He clicks a few buttons and several monitors light up,
showing different angles of his head.
We see 4 different live feeds of his balding areas (front
top, back top, both sides).
      (to his hair)
Fellas, I think I have something
real special here. Hold tight.
Harold begins to apply the topical green blend to every area
of his head, except for the thick ring of hair on the sides
and back.
He applies it like an artist with a paint knife: cocksure,
accurate, and steady. You can tell he's done this before,
and enjoys the hope.
That...oguhta....do it. There.
Laura is trying to get to bed. She stares at the hallway,
waiting impatiently for Harold. She punches her fist down on
the bed, and-
Damn him.
She throws the covers off and marches downstairs. She stops
before the stairwell to gather herself.
She puts on her best pouty, manipulating face, and tries to
be sexual. She tip-toes downstairs, and stops at the top of
the lower stairwell.


Harold is startled, which pisses him off. He almost yells,
but catches himself.
      (overly nice)
Yeah hun?
Are you coming to bed pretty soon?
I was kind of hoping that we could
make up.
Harold ponders the proposition.
Um..I don't think so. I just
applied some new solution. You
know how it gets everywhere. Even
with the shower cap. Plus when I
wear it to bed I feel like a
He twists his sideburns, staring at the ground in the
direction of the stairwell. His head snaps up. An idea.
Especially after our fight
earlier, or, my episode. I just,
you know,lying up there,
apologetic and everything, trying
to sleep, or god forbid, be


                       HAROLD (cont'd)
romantic while wearing my shower
cap. Do you know what I mean? I
would never get to bed. It would
be a nightmare. I'm sorry though,
about things. You put up with a
lot of shit, and it isn't for
nothing, I promise. Things are
going to get better.
Laura toes the carpet, leaning against the wall like a
woman. She looks down at her foot, and considers. His speech
comforted her and she smiles.
      (mild baby-talk)
Alright, but do you think maybe
tomorrow night, we could go out to
dinner, and just have an US night?
Harold thinks this over.
What did you have in mind?
I mean we just went out.
Yeah, that was 6 weeks ago.


Maybe you could just pick up some
things tomorrow. Like steaks and
potatoes, and we could grill out
back and put on some music. Have
some merlot... you know, like we
used to always do. I'd love to
hear about all the kids from your
new class.
She shakes her head. Nothing is ever easy, but she'll take
Fiiiine.But promise that we will
go out, out-out soon.
Harold bites his lip to not interrupt her. He listens
nodding his head impatiently.
                       LAURA (cont'd)
Because Kerry said there's a new
place overlooking Sunrise Canyon.
It's supposed to be nice.
Okay. Night night.
Night hun. Get some rest. I'll see
you in the morning.
Laura walks upstairs.
Harold begins to clean up his lab.
Harold, shower cap on over the thick green topical solution,
is on the couch watching MIAMI BLUES starring Alec Baldwin.


He watches a scene where Baldwin is in a sunny hotel room,
and he's grooming his thick black hair with attitide, and
then lights a smoke.
Harold pours a bottle of Bushmills into a low-ball with
ice. He smiles and shakes his head, impressed with Baldwin.
The lab is dark, and the only thing lit up is the t.v. He
recites some of the lines.
      (towards screen)
(Baldwin to Jennifer Jason Leigh)
How old are? Let me check your
He does line for line with Baldwin, who is wearing a
Hawaiian shirt,gun in hand. Harold smiles, and takes a long
pull off his glass.
He looks quite relaxed from the whiskey, and is enjoying
      (a toast)
To Alec and the best hair ever.
Something I aspire to be sometime
in my life, one day.
He mumbles a couple more lines, and looking drowsy, sets
down his drink, pauses the movie, and tilts back.
He is out in seconds.
Parrots squawk in the background, and small rays of light
from upstairs filter onto the carpet at the landing near the


Harold comes to and rubs his eyes.
      (half asleep)
Oh, man, numbies, jesus, who was
that woman...and gone. Gone.
Harold snaps up, and is more awake.
He gets up and to use the bathroom. While peeing, he leans
over, rubs his eyes, and looks in the mirror. He laughs at
the shower cap that he is still wearing.
He scratches his arm, and remembers the gauze wrap around
his arm where he had applied the solution.
Oh yeah, right.
He shakes, flushes, and then unwraps the bandage. There is
stubble on his arm where he applied the solution.
      (in disbelief)
Oh come on.
He sits down on the toilet. His eyeballs dart left to right
rapidly, then down.
He laughs it off a second, then turns serious and jumps up.
We see the panning view of Harold's head from one of the
There's no fucking way, there's no
fucking way. It can't be.
Bullshit. No way.
(a long pause)
Oh my god.


The panning stops at a full view of Harold's hairline.Thick
dark stubble connecting in a straight line near each temple.
The top view shows his old thin longer hairs which remain,
which are awkward looking at the moment, but of no concern
to Harold.
Oh my god. This is insane. This is
Baldwin grade.
                       LAURA (O.S.)
Harold, are you up yet.
Harold, shaken, sits up.
Yeah! Be right up. I'm just
putting a few things away.
(he rubs his head in ecstasty, and
thinks about what to say)
Is coffee on?
                       LAURA (O.S.)
I was just about to. I just wanted
to make sure you didn't kink your
back again sleeping down there.
Harold sits up and rubs his head.
Ahh...no, it's fine. Sounds good.
Harold stands up. He looks over at Baldwin still paused on
the big screen from last night.
                       HAROLD (cont'd)
Coffee sounds real good.
                       LAURA (O.S.)
Harold breaths slowly, trying to relax. He runs to the
storage room. Frantically, he rummages through two moving
boxes full of miscellaneous crap.


He find a stocking cap. An old blue and white outdoor hockey
hat with "Jefferson Hockey" stitched on both sides.
Harold walks in the kitchen where Laura is drinking coffee
and reading the newspaper.
The morning news is on the kitchen t.v. Harold watches
non-chalantly, although he's wearing the stocking cap.
Nice hat.
      (acting somber)
Yeahhh, that topical left a slight
rash. I just don't want to expose
it to straight air until I can run
some tests, you know... rule out
any danger.
Do you want me to take a look at
it. I can apply ointment or-
She stands up motherly, concerned. She comes towards him, he
backs up.
No!...really, it's fine. Nothing I
haven't dealt with before. Isn't
that class party today
Class party? Are you alright?
(looks at him strange, it passes)
God You scare me sometimes. I've
always been worried about the crap
you're putting on your head.
Harold pours himself a cup of coffee. He smiles with his
back to her, and can hardly contain his glee.
No trust me, it's fine.


I'm fine, my head will be fine,
I've gotten rashes before. It's
not as if I'm putting battery acid
on my head or something. It's a
natural, herbal extracted mix,
it's harmless.
I know how passionate you are
about this. I'm not going to judge
you for that, but when you show up
with a hockey hat on, complaining
of a rash, I think my concern is
I'm not- I wasn't complaining. You
You have a rash, and this isn't
the first one. This could effect
our children. Great. Little babies
with rashy heads-
It doesn't work that way-
Yeah? I sure hope not.
You're right. I'll be more


You have to start thinking about-
Harold snaps.
I said I'll be more careful. Fuck!
Fuck? fuck...fuck you. I'm sick of
you talking to me that way. I
won't live this way Harold. I'm
not someone you can just abuse and
treat like garbage.
                       LAURA (cont'd)
You're driving me away.
                       LAURA (cont'd)
Do you want me to go?
Harold shakes his head, regroups.
Take it easy.
(he pauses for a beat)
No! It;s just. I don't like it
when you ride me about everything.
I had a little whiskey last night.
I'm just groggy. It's early, I
don't have all the answers. Don't
let me ruin your little day...come
He grabs her, hugs her, holds her close. He turns on the
charm. She fights him at first.


Seeee? There doesn't need to be
all this hootin and hollering.
It's Friday morning, we're having
dinner tonight, we should be
happy. Now never mind what Mr.
groggypants said or did. He's a
big retard, Okay? You get your
little butt upstairs and shower,
and I'm going to go to our room,
so I can take a short nap, and get
up on the right side of the bed,
and later we can enjoy our evening
Laura buys it.
      (cute voice)
You never talk to me like that
She kisses him, turns smiling and prances away.
Have a good day.
I will.
Harold peeks through the blinds, as Laura backs out of the
garage, and maneuvers out of the driveway.
He whips his hat off, and walks into the bathroom and grabs
one of Laura's large handle mirrors. He checks all angles of
his head in the well lit bathroom.


This is amazing. I'm back. No more
He rubs his hand through his hair, and in doing so, spikes
the old longer,stringy hairs. He grabs his clippers from
under the sink, and plugs them in.
A new start.
He mows the wispy hairs away with several fluid strokes. His
hands move like a pro.
There is a small difference in length between the side,
back, and the new hair which has already grown a quarter
He swiftly blends it all together.
      (to self in mirror)
Clean slate? Regrowth?
(laughs at himself)
Harold enters the lab. With the remote, he flips from DVD to
the message center on the big screen.
There are several unchecked video messages. He clicks on his
Mother's first.
His Mom is 62, but looks young for her age. She's portly,
has shoulder length blond hair, and a noticeable prosthetic
      (on t.v. screen)
Hellllooo. I was wondering when
you planned on moving home...just
kidding, I know you hate that. Do
you need me to put money in your
account? Don't you touch the trust
accounts, you don't need to, you
know this. I just get worried.


                       PAM (cont'd)
Anyway, if I don't hear from you
by tomorrow, I'll just go ahead
and make a transfer. Love you. Say
hi to Laura. Love you.
Harold is rubbing his hair, and barely paying attention to
the message. He is so mesmerized by his hair, he looks high.
He clicks on Dook's message.
      (on screen)
Hey, just bored and
thinking...remember at med school,
when you started dancing around
with those beakers you held up on
your head? That was so funn-
He clicks delete.
Jesus Dook. Get a new one.
Harold cracks his knuckles and smiles nervously.
Alright Dooker.
He cursors over to Dook's dial-up icon and clicks. It rings
once. He hangs up.
(a beat)
His bald ass can wait.
Harold stands up and presses the phone message desktop off,
which brings back the DVD. Alec Baldwin is still paused.
He sees this and gets pumped. He claps his hands quickly and
jumps to his feet.
He skips over to the his stereo unit, and turns on the
radio. The song "All The Way To Reno", by R.E.M. is playing.


He starts dancing slowly, matching the tempo and mood of the
All the way to Reno
(a beat)
hum hum hum, da do-do
(a beat)
All the way to Reno.
He dances in his socks, making it easy to glide around the
smooth floor. He gyrates towards the couch.
He stops and stares at the paused image of Baldwin.
He rocks his head up and down to the beat, and sings along
to the words, while rubbing his head.
His gaze suggests daydreaming. He smiles as if he's just had
a brilliant thought.
Harold grabs a few things and shoves them in a suitcase.
Harold gathers up what is left of the hair solution into a
container, then shoves it in his backpack.
The garage door finishes opening. A black Range Rover with
jet black tinted windows backs out.
Harold contemplates leaving for a moment. He leans back and
sighs, staring straight ahead at the closing garage door.


What would Jesus do?

a beat

Nah... what would Alec do?!
The Rover reverses into a turnaround. The wheels turn the
other way and it accelerates down the long driveway.
From overhead, the Rover exits the driveway.
We can see the secluded neighborhood that Harold lives in.
Large homes in the canyon separated by several acres in
every direction.
Harold listens to the radio and taps his hands on the wheel.
He fixes the rear-view mirror on himself and strokes his
hair while making macho facial expressions.
He flips the mirror back, turns down the radio and grabs his
cell phone. He presses send, listens.
      (on phone)
Mom. Hey, it's Harold.
Pam Pouter is in the middle of feeding four cats when she
stops to grab the phone.
Hey, you don't trip me!
(to a cat)
Sorry, Madison just about killed
me- Hey,I was wondering when you'd


                       PAM (cont'd)
call back.
Sorry, been working a lot. I have
good news though. I've made a huge
advance in the name of hair and
science and...maybe I'll be able
to call you more now.
Really!? So you're moving-
Christ, do you have to do this
every time we talk. When Laura and
I decide to have kids or move
home, you'll be the first to know.
      (mocking Harold)
No more questions, no more
questions. You've never have been
very good at communicating. Just
like your father. That's what
mothers do. They ask questions. I
don't like you snapping at me like
that. I'm your mother.
Harold has already had enough. He rubs his whiskers over the
receiver, creating a static effect.
I'm breaking up - listen - I
called for a reason. I'm headed to
Reno for a hair convention. I just
wanted to get back to you, because
these things can be hectic.
Harold nods his head as to agree with his Mom on the other
end of the phone, but we no longer hear Pam.


                       HAROLD (cont'd)
She won't know until she gets
home, I left her a note.
(a beat)
Screw her, she's been bugging the
shit out of me as it is.

There is a note on the kitchen counter. To the right there
is motion.
There's a parrot outside the kitchen patio door trying to
open the door with its beak.
                       HAROLD (cont'd)
She'll be fine, Mom-
Harold peers out the window at a mini-mall type outlet store
off hwy. 13.
There are several signs on the outside including, GAP,
He flicks on his blinker, and heads off the highway up the
off-ramp. He wraps up his call with his mother.
                       HAROLD (cont'd)
I just gotta get off the phone
here, there's some incidentals I
need to pick up for the weekend.
(a beat)
Harold holds the phone a foot away from his ear, as Pam's
voice from the receiver is loud.


Don't worry Mom, no benders. I
don't even drink that much
(a beat)
Alrighty, sounds good
(a beat)
Love ya too.
Harold flips the phone shut and surveys the parking lot. He
parks and hops out.
He walks in through the large glass doors of the Tommy
Bahama outlet store and scans the floor.
He is approached by SALESWOMAN,22, blond, attractive,
(makes play punching motion)
do you want me to help you find a
wardrobe for the summer or are you
just looking for a new favorite
shirt? My boyfriend has a favorite
shirt that he always wears. A bit
too much, but at least it's a
Tommy B.
(she giggles)
Harold gives her an odd look, obviously uncomfortable
dealing with such an outgoing, younger woman.
He stares, and then laughs it off to mask his awkwardness.
He rubs his hair which has grown another half inch. He cocks
his head and scratches his face, trying to look relaxed and
Sort of. I'm going to Reno but I
didn't pack any of my cool things.
I'm looking for something laid
back, but also a bit tough. Kind


                       HAROLD (cont'd)
of mysterious also. Ya know?
I think we can help you
out...(lowering her head as to ask
his name)
Harold-Harry. Babes call me Harry.
The saleswoman does a loud, quick, obnoxious laugh.
I see.
Harold realizes his cheesy line, and feels that she really
has no interest in him, so he tries to recover.
I was just playing around there, I
never say babe, I-
Don't worry, I get it all the
time. Listen cutie, clothes just
naturally look good on guys like
you. Let's get started!
Harold knows he's being played, but it's no use. He's
powerless to her youthful charms. she grabs his arm and
drags him away.
A: Saleswoman holds a black and blue flower patterned shirt.
Harold nods his head.
B: Saleswoman holds up a pair of chino pants, two close
shades of white. He points at both of them, gives two thumbs


C: Saleswoman is laughing at Harold awkwardly as he pulls a
fake gun out from his belt in the back, and crouches around
a carousel of shirts.
D: Saleswoman shows him an outfit consisting of all black:
slacks, shirt, and a light sport coat. Harold looks
E: We see Harold try on another outfit , contorting macho
faces in the mirror, and stroking his hair forward.
F: He tries on outfit 2, making even cockier expressions
than in (E). The all black looks great on him.
G: Harold has all of the clothes in his arms overflowing,
and fakes throwing them at her.
Under the heap of new clothes,he hands her his credit card
instead. She laughs and shakes her head.
Harold walks away from Saleswoman at the cash register with
several bags.
He almost gets to the doors, looks pensively, and turns
around and walks back to her.
He reaches in his pocket and pulls out a $50 bill, and hands
it to her.
Oh. We're not supposed to accpet-
No, it's fine. You probably think
I feel weird saying this, but
you've just helped me out with
much more than clothes today.
Saleswoman misunderstands, and shoots him a look like he's
hitting on her. She gasps at him condescendingly.


Harold is disappointed and angered by the mis-communication.
He baits her.
                       HAROLD (cont'd)
No, no really. Just take it. You
did a great job. You knew what I'd
look good in.
      (looks around)
Well, okay. Thanks.
There you go. Now go get that
mustache waxed...and some Altoids
wouldn't hurt.
Saleswoman shrieks, and holds her hands over her mouth.
Harold leaves the money on the counter, and walks out with a
smile on his face.
He walks to his car with an air of confidence. He goes to
put his keys in his car-
Fuck that bitch - I got hair.
Harold looks in the rear-view mirror, and looks at his hair
which has miraculously grown longer. He looks amazed,
pauses, and pinches himself.
      (to mirror)
This better not be a dream.
The Rover treks down the on-ramp.


The phone rings. Harold looks at the face display. It reads,
"missed call, Dook." He shoots a contemplative look, then
hits end.
The Rover switches lanes from hwy.13, to hwy. 80 towards
Harold opens the moon-roof. The sun is no longer directly
overhead, and is blocked by the door frame.
Some of the sun hits his neck and body, but not his face. He
tries everything he can to get the sun on his face, but
      (shaking his head)
Come on.
A bright red car off the right of the highway catches his
Harold yanks the wheel towards the off-ramp.
The Rover pulls in to a used car sales lot and parks. Harold
gets out.
He walks towards a red convertible 69' Jaguar XJ.
The interior is immaculate with red leather seats and
lacquer-covered wood trim throughout. Harold loves it.


Harold throws the keys to the Rover to the approaching CAR
GUY. He catches them without flinching.
CAR GUY, 35, wears a nice suit, and his hair is slicked
back. He flashes an accepting grin, realizing that a sale
has occurred.
      (to SALESMAN)
Which way is your office?
                       CAR GUY
Atta way chief.
Harold waits in the chair, more than content with what has
transpired today.
Salesman hurries the paperwork.
                       CAR GUY
Sign here, here, and here. This is
a business check for $10,000.00
for the trade, and the keys to
your convertible. You're stylin
Harold signs the papers, and scratches his head. His hair is
again longer, an inch and a half now, and he's amazed. It
looks unkempt.
Speaking of stylin, do you know a
place where I can get a trim...
Harold is in a barber's chair, and having his hair towel
dried. He stares in the mirror at his new hair. It's very
thick, and long enough to somewhat style it. He is in awe of


BARBER, 65, is stout and looks like a truck-driver with his
greasy slicked back hair and sideburns.
He puts away the towel, as a lit cigarette dangles from the
corner of his mouth, his eyes squinting. His name tag reads
What's it gonna be fer ya?
Harold snaps out of a momentary daydream, and remembers the
Oh. Yeah. Buddy...you wouldn't
have happened to have seen Alec
Baldwin in Miami Blues?
Buddy scratches his head, and gives it two seconds of deep
You know, Alec, one of the Baldwin
brothers. The squinty guys. The
oldest one, black hair.
(notices Barber isn't following).
Buddy thinks hard, and begins to shake his head.
Harold notices Buddy's gigantic sideburns.
Okay. Remember Elvis when he was
in the Army?
(Barber nods)
Not right when he had a complete
crew cut, but more like when it
had grown out a little bit.
Harold shuffles in his seat, really trying to get his point
across, motioning with his hands erratically.


Barber leans over, his belly bulging, and stomps out his
Go head, lean on back.
Barber finishes brushing the hair clippings around Harold's
face and neck.
Harold is smoking. He shakes his head and blows smoke, like
he's just had sex.
Buddy, it's a goddamn thing of
Thank ya sir. Aint many things I
know much more about, den cuttin
hair an Elvis.
You're right about that, Buddy
boy. Pure genius. What's the
At'll be 20 fer the cut.
       southern drawl)
Fine, fine. And I'll be needing
some harr products. Some'tin
Elvis'd use I reckon.
Barber gives him a odd look, as if he thinks he may be
making fun of him.

And a pair of scissors.
(a beat)


                       HAROLD (cont'd)
Oh, and do you think I could bum a
couple more-
Harold starts the Jaguar, and revs the engine. He's got a
cigarette in each ear, and grabs one and puts it in his
He finds the lighter, lights his smoke, and readjusts his
rear-view to admire his new look.
      (to himself)
Let's get this show on the road.
Honey... don't wait up.
Laura watches as the garage door opens, revealing Harold's
vacant parking spot.
"Werewolf in London" plays. An ode to the "The Color of
Money". Harold sings along, mimicking Cruise from the movie.
Well I saw Lon Chaney, walking
with the queen...
Laura is reading the note that Harold left her. She looks
stunned. It reads:


                       HAROLD (Note)
Went to Reno for a hair-science
convention. I'll call this
evening. Sorry about tonight.

Something catches her eye. She screams. There are two
parrots sauntering around the kitchen by the table.
There is a mangled sack of bagels scattered on the floor.
      (to parrots)
Hey!Hey! Get, get, AHH! For gods
sake, how in the hell...Harold!!!-
She turns and runs out of sight. She returns with a broom.
Get. Get out.
(shooing the birds)
Harold!! God damn you!
One of the parrots heads for the door. The other takes
semi-flight, it's wingspan too large for full flapping.
She gives chase, swinging wildly. A lamp is knocked over,
and she trips on the cord.
She gets back to her feet, and the parrot lands, and walks
towards the door. It stops and looks back at her.
      (to the bird)
The parrot leaves, and she slams the door and clips the
lock. She sits against the wall and catches her breath.
Goddamn you Harold.


I saw a werewolf drinking a
pina-colada at Trader Vic's,
(a beat)
his hair was perfect...
(slicking his hand through his
hair, a la Cruise)
Harold stops singing. He sees a MAN on the side of the road
holding a sign. It reads "Pauter".
He down shifts, causing the car to skid a few feet, and
pulls over. He backs up to the MAN. It's his Father.
Mr. Pauter gets in the car, and throws the sign to the side
of the road. They speed off.
It's great to see you.You look
                       MR. PAUTER
It's good to see you Harold.
(looks him up and down)
Nice hair.
Mr. Pauter turns his head and laughs.
You don't like it? This is
mine...and boy I can't wait to
reap the rewards.
                       MR. PAUTER
Such as?
Women. Women and respect. I'm a
whole new man. I'm going to be the
man I always knew I could be. No


                       HAROLD (cont'd)
bad hats, no hiding, no being
Mr. Pauter looks at him patronizingly.
                       MR. PAUTER
You sound like a fool. I lived a
long life as a MAN, and I never
had a lot of hair. I raised a
family. I never hid. I wasn't
afraid of shit. What the hell is
your excuse?
Dad, you know my thing with social
                       MR. PAUTER
Since when?
You really don't like it? I
thought you'd be proud.
Mr. Pauter shoots him a stern look.
                       MR. PAUTER
As a matter of fact I don't.
Pauters for the most part don't
have hair as adults, and that's
the way it is. It's in our blood.
Why don't you spend the money I
left you helping people,
researching cancer for people that
are dying, or MS, or AIDS, or-
Yeah, a lot of good it did you-
                       MR. PAUTER
Hey pal, I made advances that
helped people be able to spend
longer periods of time with their
families before they passed. I was
looking for cures, forwarding the
cause. I was making an attempt.


                       MR. PAUTER (cont'd)
What's your goal? Helping people
leave their wives so they can go
put mousse in their hair and act
like they're 16-
Well... I don't know-
                       MR. PAUTER
Yeah, no shit.
Mr. Pauter looks over at Harold with concern.
                       MR. PAUTER (cont'd)
Hair doesn't make a man Harold -
never has.
Oh yeah. Well I'm on my way to
grace the female population of
Reno with my lovely locks, and
then we'll see who the hell-
Harold stops when he realizes Mr. Pauter is gone.
Yeah. We'll see.
He floors the ignition, and veers into the fast lane. To
Lights from the Hotel/Casinos lend a welcoming twinkle, and
the passing car lights shimmer as Harold makes his way down
the Reno strip. He looks around in anticipation.
Harold reaches in the glove box, grabs his phone, and sees
that he has missed several calls from Laura.
Well, I guess I better-


He punches send to call her.
Honey, sorry, my phone was off.
What? Why was your phone off?
I just got into Reno, I had to
I told you in the note, there's a
convention at the Hilton here, and
I just couldn't pass on it.
There's too much to miss. There's
a buzz going on about a cure, and
they think we're close.
Harold strokes his hair and tries not to laugh.
This is not like you. This doesn't
even sound like you. Have you been
Harold flips the right blinker, then turns into the
Peppermill Inn. He checks out two leggy blonds leaving the


Listen, I can't get into this
right now, I'm just pulling in
He holds the phone out in front of him, and stares at it.
Ah, god, this damn phone. I'll
call you lat-
He rubs his whiskers against the receiver to create static,
and presses off.
He parks in front of the valet, grabs his bags, and hands
the valet person his keys.
Walking to the entrance, he throws his phone into the trash.
At the check-in counter, the DESK MANAGER, a 45 yr-old man
with a British accent is on the ball.
                       DESK MANAGER
Your name sir?
      (off guard)
No, I, didn't make one. A
                       DESK MANAGER
Sir, reservations are to be made
erstwhile to the date of
                       DESK MANAGER
This must be your introduction
into the inner-workings of our
hotel's protocol. I do apologize,


                       DESK MANAGER (cont'd)
but as I mentioned previously-
A female ASSISTANT DESK CLERK smiles widely, while looking
up at DESK MANAGER. A fan.
Listen Liam. I received my
doctrine in medicine from UVS. I
don't know what you are trying to
prove with your pathetic attempt
at sounding overly articulate in
front of your little girlfriend
here, but smart people don't talk
like that.
Actually, I'm
A beat. Harold starts laughing, and hands him $200.
                       HAROLD (cont'd)
Listen, listen, sorry. I'm just
messing with you.
(gasps convincingly, as if
It's been a long trip.
Harold sighs and looks up at him earnestly.
                       HAROLD (cont'd)
Sir, DO you have any rooms
available? I am truly sorry for
being a jerk, but you were making
me a bit cantankerous. I do
                       DESK MANAGER
No need to apologise sir.
(smiles awkwardly, and pockets the
The only room available is the
Roman Room, but that is usually
reserved for our SPECIAL guests.


Harold reaches into his pocket as he speaks, and hands DESK
MANAGER another $200 wrapped around his platinum visa.
That's just a sign of my respect
for you...
He stares down at his name tag.
                       HAROLD (con't)
...Byron. Now I plan on dropping a
pretty sick amount of money here.
I am an unskilled poker player
with too much money, but I'm going
to need something to do while I'm
downing Jameson and waters. So in
other words, I think that makes me
a pretty special guest.
BYRON puts the money in his pocket, and grabs Harold's
credit card.
He motions to a bell boy.
Cameron. Please show Mr. Pauter to
the Roman Room. He has been
gracious enough to spend the
weekend with us.
CAMERON, 19, zips over and grabs Harold's things.
This way sir.
I do hope you enjoy your stay with
us Mr. Pauter. If there is
anything we can do to ma-
Thanks. Actually Byron, where is
the gift shop? I need spirits. I'm
feeling very spiritual.


Down that way past the Fireside
grill, and to your left. There are
several neon signs in the window.
Thank you so much. I'm already
having a great time.
(looks at Cameron)
Hey buddy, do you mind grabbing me
a bucket of ice and meeting me up
at my room?
Actually, your room has a full
sized fridge and freezer unit with
a self-making ice machine. Unless
of course you think you'll need
Harold thinks the question over for a beat. Smiles.
You know Cameron, I think I'm
going to be needing a LOT of ice
this evening.
Harold grabs one of his security keys and hands it to
                       HAROLD (cont'd)
Here's a key, I'll up there in a
(gives him a $20 bill)
Set the bags on my bed.
No problem sir.


Harold enters the elevator carrying two bags. The sound of
snack bags crinkling and bottles clanking. He struggles to
get out his security key but succeeds. "25A". He looks at
the last button, and presses "25". Top floor.
He looks over at his reflection in the the foggy-copper
mirror walls of the elevator. He cocks his head arrogantly.
Harold enters the room and is immediately impressed. He sets
the bags down on the kitchen counter. He pulls out one
bottle each of Jack Daniels, Stolichnya, Jameson, and Jose
Curevo along with some mixers and snacks and a carton of
      (to Cameron)
Hey. You mind putting these
bottles on ice in some sort of a
bowl or something. Then just lay
the snacks by the microwave. I
need to get a look at this place.
You got it.
This place is fucking sick.
All in the style of ancient Rome, the suite has a large
kitchen, dining room, entertainment area with bar and poker
table, a huge master bedroom, and a jacuzzi area. Caligula.
All of the ceilings are vaulted two stories high, and there
are drapes and gaudy Roman art sprawled about.
Harold finishes giving himself a quick tour, and returns to
Cameron, who is waiting by the door.
So Cameron. Where does a handsome
guy like myself go around here to
find chicks to bring back to my


                       HAROLD (cont'd)
new pad?
Oh. Well the phone book in the
cupboard next to the fridge has a
bunch. Just look up escorts. These
chicks are really hot from what
I've seen.
Cameron darts to get the phone book for him.
Escorts!? What do I look like,
some sort of dirtball that can't
pick up women?
No- I just-
I mean come on, look at me. Look
at my hair. You think I need to
pay woman to bang me?
      (kissing ass)
No sir, really, it was just the
way that you said it. Of course a
great looking guy like you can
pick up women. People here just
seem to prefer escorts.
Harold's listens intently, while tending to his bruised ego,
double checking in the closest hanging mirror.
                       CAMERON (cont'd)
My brother, who is a real good
looking guy, says he used to go to
Roxy's cocktail lounge and bar at
the Eldorado down the street. If
half of the stories he told are
true, I think that's where you'll
want to be.


Now THAT is what I was talking
about. I knew I liked you.
Harold folds a $20 in half and places it in Cameron's sport
Escorts. You have a good night
(he pats him on the back)
Thanks. Good luck.
Harold primps in front of a full large vanity mirror outside
of the bathroom.
Music plays from the entertainment room. Harold is dressed
in his all black outfit from Tommy Bahamas.
He sips a cocktail while dancing side to side. He makes cool
faces in the mirror, and fixes his hair. He is full of
                       MR. PAUTER
Well aren't you a piece of work.
Mr. Pauter appears several feet from Harold and shakes his
head in disgust.
Hey, Can't you see I'm primping.
Harry boy done good Dad.
                       MR. PAUTER
Look, if this hair of yours is
making you feel like you need to
sew some oats or something, fine.
Who am I going to tell? But if
this is some long term thing, I
completely disapprove. Laura
doesn't deserve this shit. She's


                       MR. PAUTER (cont'd)
put up with a lot from you.Your
tantrums...taking her from all her
friends and family...all the
I don't really care right now.
What do you do, constantly watch
Mr. Pauter ignores the question, and points his finger at
                       MR. PAUTER
Is this what you think guys with
hair do? They go out drinking and
sleep around? You didn't need hair
to do that.
Lets not get to carried away here.
I've barely been gone 10 hours.
Cut me some slack - look at my
hair. Let me have some fun with
it. I haven't even seen any women
yet. I may be a bit rusty. You act
like I'm having thirds.
Harold puts his arms up in the air to stress his point. He
takes a long swig of his drink, and listens to his father.
                       MR. PAUTER
You were focused and you had a
goal, and for that I give you
credit. Pretty amazing or lucky.
You'll end up helping other guys
like yourself who suffer from
"social anxiety", or what whatever
you want to call it. Hey, I won't
lie, it bothered me from time to
time when I was young, but if it
wouldn't have been that, it would
have been something else. People
will find anything to complain


You were a busy son of bitch.
                       MR. PAUTER
Yeah, well. What do I know about
all of this. At least you'll make
a killing with the patent. My
money wasn't going to last
(a beat)
Not the way you spend.
Harold smiles sheepishly, and lights up a smoke.
I've got plenty of money. I'm not
going public. I don't want all
that publicity. But mostly, if I
take this thing public, once again
I'm average. I'm not going to let
that happen.
Mr. Pauter takes a moment to digest this. He sits down and
scratches the back of his bald head.
                       MR. PAUTER
You're more selfish than I
imagined. All this time you spent
researching, THIS is what you had
in mind. It wasn't about helping
people, or money to help people or
your mother, it was about..this!?
Had I known you had this in mind,
you wouldn't have gotten a penny
from me.
Harold laughs. He's enjoying himself, and is hardly fazed by
the scolding. This is his time.
Relax, nothing is for sure. But
one thing IS for certain.
(he spins around)
Grab the women and children and
board up your windows. Pauter's on
the prowl.


Harold does an erratic tap-dancing move while circling
around. Smiling, he bobs his head.
Harold exits a cab, hands the driver some money, and gazes
up at the restaurant adjoined to the hotel. His confidence
from the booze and hair is apparent.
Harold strolls into Roxy's and makes a beeline for the bar.
The bar has an Italian feel, with darkish red drapes, and
stucco walls with high ceilings. The wall by the bar is made
of antique brick.
Harold sits down next to a couple who take turns making out,
and giggling. Harold grins, but avoids eye contact.
He snaps his arm up, alerting THE BARTENDER that he needs a
drink. He's cool.
Jameson and seven. Burn it.
He takes a long pull and leans back in his chair. He glances
around the bar, while stroking his hair nonchalantly: hello
ladies, I'm here.
Scanning the bar, he catches the eye of a thirty-something
gorgeous BLOND, who slightly resembles his wife.
He smiles at her and tips his drink up to her fearlessly. He
motions the bartender again. THE BARTENDER walks over.
Can you tell that stunning lady
down there that her tab is paid
for, and that she's more than
welcome to join me.


The bartender laughs a bit. He walks to her and delivers the
message. The blond smiles, grabs her purse, and makes her
way towards Harold.
      (under his breath)
He's surprised, but the booze has calmed his nerves, and he
shuffles, passes a hand through his hair and relaxes. She
I'm impressed. Thank you.
Ah, no big deal really.
Sonny Crocket, you're back.
Really? I was going more
for...forget it, here, let me-
Harold quickly stands up to pull her chair out.
What brings you to Reno?
My new Jaguar convertible.
(shoots her a brave smile)
Oh, you meant - oh right. I'm here
striclty for pleasure.
He runs his hand through his hair and nods his head: I'm
sweet. He pushes back his shirt sleeve to reveal his Rolex.
His act is painful, but working.
And you?


I met my boyfriend up here to
break it off. Nothing like a bar
to do end things.
(looks down)
It's not like I did it on the
phone or something.
(a beat)
Anyway, I'm Sofia.
Harry. Sorry, you can call me
(stares for a bit smiling)
Sofia. What an exotic name, and
well, it fits.
He grabs her hand and kisses it old school. She finds this a
little tacky but can't help but to laugh.
You're such a geek.
(laughs, thinks he's kidding)
Nice to meet you.
And you. Sorry about your
boyfriend. That's horrible.
The problem was, is that he didn't
have any class. Like you Harry...I
mean, you Do have -
      (slight laugh)
-- Enough with the formalities --
barkeep -- four shots of Cuervo.
Sofia and Harold are tipsy, and very close, enjoying each-
others company.


And I said, look you bald
cocksucker-you already pawned our
t.v. What the hell are we going to
do with a dvd player.
Harold takes offense at first, then laughs it off and rubs
his hair.
What a schmuck! But I guess if he
wasn't such a schmuck...we might
not be sitting here right now
having such a good time. Huh?
Exxxactly. You are a such a hotty,
let me tell you. Who the hell let
you go?
I did. I stuck my beak out of my
cage, finagled the lock open, and
flew the hell out of there.
They laugh together. She stares intently into his eyes.
Let's get out of here. You have a
I do -- ouch, what the fuck?
Harold looks down at the ground, and realizes he's just been
struck with a flying beer cap. He looks behind and a
striking BRUNETTE is glaring at him, and admitting guilt
with a devlish smile. She waves him over.


      (Aussie accent)
Join us for a drink, no?
Harold is smitten. He scans her table, and sees that she is
sitting with two other beautiful women. He thinks for a
moment, and then looks back at Sofia...
I'm going to have to get your
number. I didn't think they were
going to show, so I didn't mention
it earlier --
Splash. Sofia throws her drink into his face, and walks
away, but turns back quickly...
Nice try. Bigger better huh?
(throws her hair back)
I would have done the same thing,
so don't feel bad. Prick.
Sofia storms off, and Harold, still under the spell of the
brunette is unfazed. He wipes his face, and walks to the
brunette's table, as if hypnotized.
      (to brunette)
Hey, I uh, thanks for the bottle
cap, hee hee, ah, you startled me.
Oh boolshit. You were having a go
at that skank, all manly, so cut
the shy act, yeah?
(laughs boisterously)
I'm just taking the piss out of ya
cutie. I'm Monique, this beautiful
blond ditz across from me is
Candy, and the Japanese hottie
next to her is Rose. Ladies, say
hello to...


MONIQUE cues Harold to introduce himself with her arm
extending out at him, and smiling with her forehead
scrunched in curiosity.
Harry, and ah, nice to meet all of
you Monique.
Oh, I see.
Candy makes a snotty face, and Rose laughs hysterically,
while holding her hand over her face, to try and hide her
clear braces. Harold blinks, still staring at Monique and
No, I just meant since she, well,
who cares, can I sit down?
Harold begins to scoot in next to Monique, but she holds her
hand up to stop him.
Where are you going, don't get
ahead of yourself --
Oh, how rude of me. Why don't I
sing you fine ladies a song, and
if you like it, I can stay, eh?
Monique, the obvious leader of the three, glances at her
friends, as if their opinion mattered, then looks back at
Well, sing a sing sing, a
song...we're on tips and spikes.
Harold coughs to clear his throat, takes a long pull off his
drink, and coughs again. He pauses a moment to recall the
lyrics, and...


If you leave me now,
you take away the biggest part of
Ooo oo, baby,please don't go...
Harold is gaining his old confidence, and the women seem to
enjoy the song --
It comes too far to leave it all
behind, how could we let it slip
when tomorrow comes and we both
regret,the things we said
(fills instrumental horns with
ba boom ba boom boom bomp...
Candy's smile turns to a snobby glare.
Ahh, that will do, um-
I thought it was great Harry.
(a pause as she looks him up and
Do you want to party?
Laura sits at the kitchen table drinking a glass of wine.
She has bags under her eyes, and the phone is sitting
directly in front of her. She has Harold's rifle leaning
against the wall next to her for Parrot protection.
Seething, she glares at the clock and shakes her head in
disgust. She glances at the rifle, and then looks out the
sliding glass door. It's dark and scary outside. She looks
up in disbelief, and laughs angrily.


The door swings open, and Harold has his arm around Monique,
and her two friends follow behind.
Nice place Harry. It's bigger than
the opera house in Sydney
(laughs for a moment)
Monique lets go of Harold, drops her purse on the kitchen
counter, and scurries to the t.v.

She grabs the remote, and quickly walks in front of the
large windows revealing the night below. She begins to sing
a verse from ABBA's "Money Money Money."
A man like that is hard to find,
but I can't get him off my mind,
(points at Harold)
aint it sad?
But if he happens to be free,
I bet he wouldn't fancy me,
That's too bad...
Monique moves gracefully, and her sultry voice hits the
notes perfectly. Harold's mouth is agape. He shuts his mouth
and has trouble swallowing. He shakes his head to regain his
                       MONIQUE (cont'd)
...so I must leave, I'll have to
to Las Vegas or Monaco
and win a fortune in a game
my life will never be the same...
Money, Money, Money...


Monique laughs, takes a bow, and throws the remote on the
couch. She makes her way back to her friends, who are still
unsettled by the front door. Harold is putting on music.
Candy, Rose, make us all some
drinks. Harold, why don't I invite
some friends over, and we can
really get the night started. I
love a party, don't you?
She walks to Harold and grabs him by the hands, leads him
for a short dance, and stares in his eyes. Candy and Rose
head to make drinks. Harold is smirking like a virgin.
                       MONIQUE (cont'd)
Don't you like a party Harold?
What do you say??
Monique dips herself, and Harold quickly holds on to her as
she laughs. He struggles to pull her back up, and his face
is bright red.
Whatever...Whatever you want.
Monique smiles, and raises her eyebrows up and down.
A - Monique welcomes two good looking Italian men in. Harold
frowns. They walk over and give hugs to Candy and Rose.
Harold smiles in relief.
B - Monique welcomes a sexy blond woman wearing a bikini,
followed by two large men carrying a portable stripping
pole. Harold raises his eyebrows.
C - Monique greets five little people wearing roller-skates.
They all disperse, and begin skating around and exploring
the place.


D - Monique opens the door, and lets in 5 small Asian women
in matching tights. They all have different props, such as a
contortion box, silver hoops, and various items for
Harold is drunk and having a blast. He rambles on to Monique
on the couch, as her friends make out with the two Italians,
and the stripper strips, and the Asians do various tricks.
The little people play tag on rollerskates.
"Celebration" by Kool and the Gang, plays on in the
Your friends are great. Do they
come to all of your parties?
Oh, this is nothing. These are
just some friends from Reno. You
should meet my friends in Tokyo.
They're much crazier, you'd love
I lived there for 5 years. We
should go there some time.
Oh, sure.
( a pause)
Whenever. We could go tomorrow
(laughs and sips her drink)


(gets up, a bit drunk)
I need to use the ladies room. No
flirting now, you're mine Harry
She bends down and roughs up Harold's hair, and kisses him
on the cheek. She stumbles off to the bathroom.
Harold smiles and takes this in for a moment. He darts to
his room, picks up the phone and dials.
Monique looks in the mirror, less playful now, and takes out
a small pocket of white powder.
Dooker, Dooker, you're not going
to fucking believe this shit.
There's a beautiful Austrailian
women here with her hot friends
making out. I think she wants to
do me. There's midgets playing tag
and strippers and Cirque de
people. And I have hair Dook. I
wasn't going to tell you, but
you're my best pal.
                       DOOK (O.S.)


This is nuts man, I feel like I'm
hallucinating. And I'm in Reno,
and, dude, I'm like fricken
Baldwin. Hold on, I think she's
coming out of the bathroom.
( hangs up)
                       DOOK (O.S.)
What the-
(the line goes dead)
Geez louise.
Dook hangs up the phone, and then picks it back up to check
the number. He leans over on his nightstand to grab a pen,
and jots down the number.
775, huh?
Monique walks into the bedroom, seconds after Harold hangs
up the phone. She shuts the door behind her, and looks at
Harold seductivley. She walks to him.
Here, finish this.
She hands her drink to Harold, and dances to the music
playing in the main room. She slowly undoes her shirt, while
staring at Harold.
He smiles widely, then takes a long sip of the drink,
finishing most of it.
You are...unbelievable. See what
hair can do for a person? I knew
it would be like this.
Monique looks puzzled by his comments, but continues her
strip tease.


                       HAROLD (con't)
They thought they could keep
Harold down, but look at me.
Harold finishes the drink, and throws it across the room and

Monique, now in just her underwear, gets on the bed and
straddles Harold.
Relax Harry, relax. I'll massage
your body, and you think of a
happy place.
Harold stares out the window, and things become foggy. He
can barely make out what Monique is saying. His eyes
flutter, and then close.
Harold, looking a bit younger, is sitting by his pool at
home, reading the paper and drinking coffee. Laura is in the
pool trying to get his attention.
Harold keeps reading, and is hit by several rapid splashes
from Laura. He is sopped, and looks down at her. He starts
laughing, and jumps up, and dives at her. He catches her by
the leg, stands up and pretends to dunk her, then pulls her
close and kisses her.
INT. 25 A - DAY
Harold wakes up on the floor next to his bed. He rubs his
head, and looks as though he doesn't know where he is.
He stands up holding his head, and soon realizes that his
watch is gone. He feels for his wallet. Gone.


                       MR. PAUTER
Well Baldwin. Where's your
Harold looks across the room to find his father sitting in a
chair in the corner.
                       MR. PAUTER
Head hurt?
Where is everybody, what happened?
                       MR. PAUTER
I think they left Harold. That's
why you don't have a watch or a
All that production for a goddamn
watch and some cash?
                       MR. PAUTER
That was a birthday watch
Harold.Your Australian girlfriend
is probably pawning your 27th
birthday present as we speak. I'm
sure Laura will understand.
This guilts Harold, and he rubs his head, and sulks.
Laura. She must be worried. She
said I was acting weird, and then
I hung up on her and threw my
phone away. The hair, my hair. I
just wanted it so bad, and when I
finally got it. FUCK.
                       MR. PAUTER
Hey, it isn't going to do any good
telling me. I certainly wouldn't
understand, but maybe she will.
(a beat)
Oh, and by the way - You didn't do


                       MR. PAUTER (cont'd)
anything else last night, did you?
Shit! I did. I called Dook. I told
him everything.
( a moment)
He wouldn't come here would he?
Harold looks up for an answer, and realizes his Father is
not there. He ponders his question by himself, and...
Dook exits a cab. He is carrying a small piece of luggage.
He's all business.
      (to himself)
How the hell am I going to pay for
this place now? How am I going to
explain any of this to Laura?
Harold hears a KNOCK at the door. He panics for a moment.
Nobody knows where he is. He walks lightly to the door,
staying to the left of the peephole.
Harold? You in there?
When Harold hears Dook's voice, he drops down silently, and
lies still. He looks astonished: How in the hell is he
standing outside of his door?
After a moment, Harold hears a grunt, and what sounds like
Dook walking away.
My card.
Harold rushes to the phone.


                       BYRON (V.O.)
Lobby, this is Byron, how may I
assist you-
Byron, listen. I need to charge
some cash to my account. My
wallet's been stolen.
                       BYRON (V.O.)
Do your party friends from last
night have anything to do with
What? You saw me?
Yes sir. You seemed to be enjoying
yourself roundly. Oh, your watch
wouldn't happen to be missing
How did you know?
The Rolex bandits have struck
What? Speak normal.
I had a hunch last night from the
look of them, but you can never
tell for sure. It's a group of
women who scam wealthy tourists
wearing Rolexes. They surface a
few times a year, but they always
look different. They went all out
this time. I doubt you'll ever see
them again.


Really? That sounds about right.
They WERE damn good. Slimy
(rubs his forehead)
So about that cash...
Whenever you're ready sir. I
understand the trauma you must be
going through.
Yeah. Thanks.
Harold looks around anxiously. Too much is going on. He goes
to the kitchen and makes a stiff drink and pounds half of
it. He stares out of the window anguished.
Laura is pacing around the kitchen talking on the phone with
her Mother-in-law.
I just spent an hour on the
internet looking for hair
conventions, and anything related
to that, and I have found nothing.
He wouldn't answer his phone last
night, he won't answer it this
morning, and he won't call me. Did
he disappear like this before I
met him?
Well he never went to Reno-
If he doesn't call me soon I'm
going to lose it.


                       PAM (v.o.)
Harold loves you a lot. He would
never intentionally hurt you.
Yeah right. Then why am I always
dealing with SOMETHING?
                       PAM (v.o.)
He's been crazy about you since
the day he met you. He's just been
frustrated lately because he
doesn't feel things are going his
way, but he still loves you.
Thanks Pam.
(a beat)
Look, I have another call. Call me
if you hear anything and vice
versa. This could be him-
                       PAM (v.o.)
Of course.
Laura pulls the phone from her face to click over.
Laura, hey,it's Dook. Have you
heard from Hawold?
No, have you? Please tell me you


What did he say the last time you
talked to him?
He said that he was going to some
hair convention in Reno, and that
he couldn't talk. I haven't heard
from him since. Why, were you with
Dook looks puzzled. He looks down at his watch, and shakes
his head.
No. Yeah. There IS a hair
There is?
Yeah, there was a reception last
night. Harold said he wasn't
feeling well. He left early.
This morning he wasn't present for
the first speaker...so I was just
wondering if he had came back home
or at least called you - But no?
He isn't here, that's for sure.
Was he sick hungover or sick sick?
I'm sure he's okee dokee. Don't
worry about it. I didn't mean to
alarm you. I just thought he might
have went back home.
Well please have him call me the
second you see him.


Of course.
INT. 25 A - DAY
Harold paces in front of the kitchen counter with a smoke
and a drink.
Fuck. Fuck. Idiot.
(he stops pacing, then continues)
Harold goes in the bathroom and looks at his hair. It's
longer again. He runs his hand through it and messes it up.
He laughs sarcastically.
      (to mirror)
Well, you got hair now big guy.
Now what? You have a worried wife,
Dook's stalking you, and you've
been robbed by a small circus. Not
exactly what I had envisioned.
He walks to the phone and makes a call.
INT-25 A
                       HAROLD (o.s.)
Byron. I need to know if somebody
came to the desk looking for me.
Specifically a balding Asian man.
Yes sir. Twice. He just walked
away a few seconds ago.


                       HAROLD (o.s.)
Did he ask you anything specific?
(clears his throat)
asked if you were bald sir.
INT. 25A
What did you tell him?
                       BYRON (o.s.)
I said that you had tresses to die
Intersesting...and then?
                       BYRON (o.s.)
He asked if it looked like you
could be wearing a toupee.
                       BYRON (o.s.)
I said that if it was, it's the
best I'd ever seen. I said I knew
a piece when I saw one, and this
was no piece.
Where's he now?
He looked like he was headed
towards the Fireside Grill. Would
you like me to phone over?
No, that's fine, thanks.
(hangs up)


Hurriedly, Harold packs his belongings.
He grabs his things from the bathroom, glances in the mirror
and notices that his hair is becoming a mop. He gops some
gel in it, and slicks it back.
Harold approaches the front door, puts his ear against it to
listen for any movement, then creeps out.
He nearly reaches the elevator, when...
                       DOOK (o.s.)
Nice hair. Is that the real thing?
Harold turns to face him.
After your call last night I
traced you to here. If any of what
you said was true, I knew I had to
check it out.
Yeah. Well. What do you think?
(laughs, uncomfortably)
Dook scratches his bald head and gazes dreamily.
It's absolutely amazing. I can't
wait to get mine.
(a pause)
Obviously there are some tests
that need to be run, and...it
hasn't made me happy.


I'll take my chances. I mean, look
at you. Harold. You have the mane
of the great grizzly bear. I need
no tests.
Harold looks annoyed, but takes a breath, and attempts to
relieve the growing tension.
We'll talk. How about a drink?
(he motions towards his room)
INT. 25A - DAY
Dook looks around the suite while Harold makes drinks.
So-you just flew in huh, or...when
did you get here?
A couple of hours ago. How did you
manage this place? You are no high
roller. I thought it was how much
you gambled, not how much you had.
Ya know...
Yeah, I know. You've always had
money. Nothing in comparison to
the money you stand to make
though. You'll make Bill Gates
look like Jeff Bezos.
(laughs spastically)
I haven't exactly decided if I'm
going public with this anytime
soon, if ever. I could have a golf
ball size tumor in my brain. A


                       HAROLD (cont'd)
side effect. It just isn't a
homerun yet.
Let's quit the bullshit Harold.
You're trying to shut me out of
this. We've always been in this
together. You stand there with
your big hair. I've got wants and
needs too. Mother..motherfucker!
Dook stands up. He's upset and Harold takes notice and backs
Hey man. Relax or I'll slap the
shit out of you.
No you relax. I've been relaxing
with you for too long of a period.
Harold steps forward and flicks the front of Dook's glasses.
This is my thing here pal. You're
getting a little bold here, baldy.
Dook has had enough. He pulls out a gun from under his shirt
and points it at Harold. Harold looks flabbergasted.
I don't think so Harold. You
listen to me. You get me that
fucking superlid, or whatever the
hell you're calling it, and you
get it now.
( a beat as he swallows, he's
nervous and angry)
You, you fuck YOU baldy.


What are you serious? This is
nuts. This isn't you Dooker, take
a breath man.
Dook makes sure to keep his distance.
What do you know about me? I've
always been some tag along to you.
A sidekick who followed you in
college because I thought you were
so cool and funny.
Dook keeps an eye on Harold, as he grabs his drink, and sits
down, keeping the gun on Harold.
                       DOOK (cont'd)
I helped you with your homework.
Yeah, I really wanted to sit in
the dorm on weekends and write
papers for you and your friends. I
could have been playing having fun
myself playing video games, but
no. I did it. But then you started
losing your hair and your
confidence, and you started acting
like you really needed me. Really
liked me. I bought it. I did.
( a beat)
Last night when you said you had
hair, I knew that you meant it. I
also knew that it wasn't going to
help me out. I know you too well,
you selfish cock suck.
They stare at each other. Harold thinks a moment for a
Calm down Dook man. Of course I
like you? Trust me, you don't need


-Doubtful, and touching. But
standing in the same room with
it.I feel a power that's
unimaginable. This can make every
dream come true.
(a beat, he sips his drink)
Now hand it ova.
Harold moves slowly to the bedroom. He unzips a pocket on
his backpack and grabs the container that's filled with the
I guess I really don't have that
much use for it anyway.
Yeah, no kidding.
Harold tosses him the container.
Now write down the formula, and
then you're going to sign it over
to me. Contractually.
Harold looks at Dook appallingly. He grabs a pad, and with a
marker, he scribbles down the formula, tears the sheet off,
and hands it to him.
Dook reads it over. He laughs.
Parrot feathers?
You expect me to belive that?
You should. It's the truth. Right
in my own backyard. These parrots
showed up one day out of nowhere,
and were bothersome at first,


                       HAROLD (cont'd)
until, you know.
(ponders this himself, and takes a
long drink)
They must have been eating
something in my fauna. The
feathers were almost human like.
That is pretty wierd. Harold
Pauter discovers hair cure from
Parrot feathers.
(laughs for a beat)
real good.
Dook makes his way to the door. He opens it a crack and
turns around.
Well. I guess I should thank you
for everything ode pal. By the
way, I spoke with Laura earlier.
You might want to call her.
He laughs and shuts the door.
Harold screams and runs to the door, and opens it.
      (yelling at Dook)
What did you say to her?
The elevator door shuts.
Harold sits at the bar sulking his sorrows in whiskey,
talking to the BARKEEP, and smoking.
I just wanted to be happy. I had
everything I wanted. The girl of
my dreams, a career, a home. Then


                       HAROLD (cont'd)
I started losing my hair-
Barkeep raises his eyebrows, does a double-take on his hair,
looks puzzled, but continues to listen.
and it seemed as if my world was
literally closing in on me. I
avoided public places, people,
family. I was a mess. I'm still a
mess. I want the old me back,
before all this. I want my goddamn
life back. Now my wife thinks I
cheated on her-which I didn't
really - but she'll probably want
a divorce, and-
Barkeep picks up Harold's drink and wipes his place. He
grabs him a fresh ashtray.
She told you this?
No, but my asshole friend Dook
said that he had talked to her-
The same guy that stole some
invention of yours?
Barkeep continues wiping the counter, and pauses, then looks
at Harold intensely.
He didn't tell her.
Harold looks confused, sits up and pays attention.


What? How would you know?
Well the way it sounds, if I was
going to track someone down to rob
him, and I talked to his wife, the
last thing I would do is tell that
persons wife that he was cheating
on them, and where to find him.
That could get in the way. Is your
wife the jealous type?
You could say that.
Exactly. Think if he tells her
that. She's going to panic, show
up here to rip your balls off, and
muddy up his plans of a clean
Harold is concentrating hard on this theory. He takes a swig
of his drink.
He probably smoothed her feathers
over, and gave her the impression
that you were fine, and couldn't
wait to get back and see her.
Harold thinks about it for a beat. He looks convinced with
his theory, and smiles appreciatively.
I'd bet my money on it.
Harold stumbles to his feet, and throws money on the


Thanks. I sure as hell hope you're
It's almost dark, and it's windy. A parrot feather blows
across the yard.
In the background, Laura is cleaning up several things from
around the pool area. The phone rings from a table nearby.
She drops everything and darts to pick it up.
                       HAROLD (o.s.)
Laura, honey. It's me.
Harold. How are you, where are
you? I've been looking for you,
what the hell is going on?
Harold is in a robe and his hair is wet from a shower. He is
sitting on a chair and a drinking a cup of coffee.
I'm a bit peaked. I was
shit-faced, and now I'm trying to
sober up so I can come home and be
with you. I miss you, baby, this
trip has been hell.
                       LAURA (v.o.)
Shitfaced? I thought you had
It's a long story. I invented a
cure for baldness...and I just
needed some time...and I was going
to lie to you about everything, I
think I could have, but I don't


                       HAROLD (cont'd)
ever want to lie to you ever
again. I just want you to know
everything, because you deserve
it. I-
Excuse me. A cure. Come on, you're
not making sense-
                       HAROLD (v.o.)
And I met a woman here, but we
didn't even kiss really, and she
and her gang of cons drugged me
and stole my watch-
Wait, a woman you didin't REALLY
kiss did what? the watch I gave
you for your-
INT-25 A
      (continues ranting)
But it doesn't matter, because
after this whole thing, it just
doesn't matter. I found out that I
had everything I wanted. I don't
need hair, or women, or a Jaguar-
A what-
INT-25 A
And this was just something I
needed to do. For me. For us.


                       LAURA (o.s.)
Okay, you were driving around in a
Jaguar with strange watch stealing
women in Reno for US? I'm having a
hard time-.
No, try to understand. I needed to
free myself-
                       LAURA (o.s.)
Yeah, it sounds like it.
                       LAURA (v.o.)
And what's this part about finding
a cure. What is that a sly way of
trying to smooth this over. Or are
you saying that you went out and
got a toupee, and you felt like
hot shit-
NO, I really did. I have hair.
Today Dook came here and stole it,
You know what-that's just about
all that I can handle right now.
This might be over Harold. I can't
handle your bullshit anymore.
But wait-
(dial tone drones)
Harold calls back, but gets no answer. He puts the phone on
the table and stares at the ground.
Harold leans back in his chair, frustrated. He weeps softly
for a moment, then closes his eyes and passes out.


Harold's eyes bat open. He realizes where he is. He pulls
back the hair, now long enough to cover his eyes.
He gets a change of clothes, and heads to the door. He turns
back and hustles to the phone and dials. It rings a few
times. His home recording goes off.
      (to recording)
Laura. Listen, I'll be home in a
few hours. Don't go anywhere. I
love you so much. I hope you're
there. I forgot to tell you
another thing about Dook. He might
come to the house. He's after the
parrot shit in the backyard. Don't
let them in the house, they can
have it. I love you so much, don't
let anybody. I love you.
Harold hangs up, grabs his stuff, and rushes out the door.
Harold walks to the front desk. He sets his bags down, and
addresses the CLERK.
Pauter. Harold Pauter. 25 A.
Clerk types in his name. Harold looks around with
      (to clerk)
Byron isn't working today?
Clerk looks up at Harold. He points outside of the revolving
entrance doors. Byron is in handcuffs, yelling at several


What did he do?
I'm really not at liberty to speak
about it sir.
(motioning to the receipt)
Please sign here.
Clerk hands Harold the slip, along with his credit card. He
signs the sheet and hands it back, while repeatedly turning
his head to look out at Byron.
Alright then. You have a good one
now. I'm going to find out what
our good friend Byron has gotten
himself into.
Harold walks outside. In addition to Byron, he sees Candy,
Rose, and the bellboy in cuffs. They're all yelling at the
      (to police)
Screw this. All I did was take $20
for a referral. Big deal, I'm only
17 anyway.
None of them notice Harold yet. He continues to survey the
scene. He looks in the back of a squad, and spots Monique.
He walks to the car. A COP approaches him.
Sir. Please stand back.
Officer. That woman in there
drugged me the other night, and
then stole my watch and wallet.
Harold moves closer to the cop, intent on getting his point


Calm down and move back, you're
crowding me.
(a beat as he straightens his
Over there is Detective
Denninger. We've recovered several
items of evidence from the
suspects. Check with him. You can
file a complaint with him.
Thank you officer.
Harold approaches Detective Denninger.
Detective. My name is Harold
Pauter. That woman in the back of
your squad stole my watch and my
wallet two nights ago... And she
drugged me to boot.
                       DETECTIVE DENNINGER
Would you like to ah, go ahead and
press charges?
Actually I'm in a rush. If my
things are here, I'd just assume
get them and leave.
(a beat)
If that's at all possible of
course, sir.
Detective Denninger opens a security box with the recovered
items inside.
                       DETECTIVE DENNINGER
Well of course, we're supposed to
keep everything as evidence, but
nobody ever wants to stick around
to get involved. That's why this
kind of scum lingers around, but
we can't force you to do anything.
(eyeballs Harold suspiciously over
his shades)


                       DETECTIVE DENNINGER (cont'd)
Here's a wallet. Harold Pauter?
Yes sir.
Decective Denninger looks at him curiouly, then smiles.
Leans forward and whispers in his ear.
                       DETECTIVE DENNINGER
Don't worry, my best friend wears
one. It aint that good though.
(pats him on the shoulder)
      (rolls his eyes)
Thanks. How about my watch.
                       DETECTIVE DENNINGER
Hey. I have three Rolexs here.
Which one is yours?
      (points at it)
That one.
                       DETECTIVE DENNINGER
Is there any identifying marks
that we could use to properly i.d.
you to this property sir.
Yeah. There's an inscription on
the back.
Detective Denninger turns and looks at the back of it.
                       DETECTIVE DENNINGER
Go ahead.
It says...it says...
(he fights back tears)
It says. Harold, to my first and
only real love, Laura.


Detective Denninger's face tightens up.
                       DETECTIVE DENNINGER
Look, I'm going to give you your
stuff back. I'm not going to ask
you how that woman got your watch.
(he stares at Harold's wedding
But something tells me that it
won't happen again. This woman
isn't a prostitute, I know
that...or I'd haul your ass away
with her. These people are scam
artists. You're technically a
victim, even though it sounds like
you asked for it.
Thank you sir. You don't know how
much this...Thank you.
Harold puts his wallet in his pocket, then clips his watch
back on. He looks over at Byron, and his soft tone changes
to anger.
Byron, looks like you won't be
coming over for thanksgiving.
Byron spits on the ground, and looks up at him with disdain.
       scottish accent)
Git fucked ye cunt.
Good call on the "Rolex Bandit."
Maybe YOU should be a detective.
Was that the good-con/bad-con con?
Harold shakes his head and walks past him. He takes out his
valet ticket which is still in his wallet. He hands it to
the valet.


      (to valet)
Red Jaguar please.
The valet runs off to retrieve it. Harold leans against the
wall and waits. He see a YOUNGER COUPLE with a TODDLER
approaching the front of the hotel.
The MAN looks at the crowd of cops and picks his SON up and
holds him tightly. Harold is touched by this. He presses his
lips together tight. He looks at them longingly.
His car pulls up. He throws his stuff in the car, gets in,
and peels out, leaving a trail of smoke that makes Byron
Harold cruises down the highway. He has the top up. He's
listening to music and banging his hands on the steering
He is ecstatic to be on his way home, and he yells in
Harold is on the pay phone. The Jaguar is in the background
next to a pump.
      (phone, to Laura)
Laura! pick up. Laura!? Hey,
what's going on?
( a beat)
They are? Have you called the
( a beat)
I know, it's impossible to get
them out there in any less than 20
(a beat)
Laura listen. Just keep everything
locked, and you have nothing to
worry about. Our home is like a


                       HAROLD (cont'd)
federal reserve.
(a beat)
Trust me, your fine. I'll be there
in 45 min-40 minutes. Hold tight.
Harold runs over to the car and drives off.
Two geeky looking ASIAN men knock on the front door.
Laura peeks her head out of the bedroom window on the third
floor. They are both looking up at her.
I called the cops. You guys should
probably get out of here.
                       ASIAN 1
We just want what's in the lab,
Harold said it's okay.
Very funny. I'm not stupid. And
it's trespassing anyway. So hurry
up and get lost.
                       ASIAN 1
All right, all right. We're done.
We're leaving. Call off your dogs.
Ay yay yay.
Laura shuts the window, and watches the men bantering, while
they head out towards the side gate. They get in their van
and leave.
Harold cruises the windy road near his house. He passes two
police cars. He's concerned.


Harold turns into his driveway, his tires squealing. He sees
Laura at the end of the driveway with her arms folded.
He parks and gets out. He runs up to her and picks her up
off her feet.
I told you to stay inside. Did
they come?
No, it's fine, they're gone. They
were harmless.
Nice hair, oh my god.
Harold sets her down. He pushes his hair back. He looks
All that for this.
(points to his hair)
It's actually kind of a nuisance.
It must have grown an inch and a
half a day.
      (hand over her
You look like a goon, was that the
How are you? What did the cops
They said that if they catch them,
which is doubtful, that we could
get them with trespassing, but
that they didn't know if stealing
excrement was a crime. But,I mean,
you can't steal acorns if they're
not yours, can you?


God you say the cutest shit.
(hugs her)
Not so fast jackass. I think there
are some things we need to talk
Harold lets her go, and makes a mockingly serious face.
First I'd like us to have a drink.
This has been a lot to swallow,
and I need to relax.
Oh, baby, really. I don't think I
can drink another-
I wasn't asking, big-haired, red
Jaguar driving party-boy.
(notices watch)
How did you get it back.
you were making that stuff up to
make me jealous, weren't you?
I wish I was.
Let's have that drink.
Harold talks on the phone with his mother. He drinks as
Laura watches intently, leaning against the kitchen counter.
She takes a sip of her drink. She's wearing makeup, and
looks very attractive.


      (on phone)
Yeah, Mom, really. I'll tell you
more tomorrow, I'm beat. Plus me
and Laura need to talk, she's
staring at me right now.
(a beat)
Sounds good.
(a beat)
Love you too. Bye.
Harold hangs up the phone. He takes a sip of his drink. He
looks over at Laura and smiles.
So tell me again what these guys
looked like.
I don't know. They were Asian.
They were actually kind of funny.
They wouldn't have laid a hand on
me; I don't think.
Thank god. I don't know what I
would have done if any-
Vegas...probably. No, maybe you've
had it with casino towns. Cancun?
Wherever there was young women-
That's not fair. Monique the watch
stealing Australian was at least
30. You would have liked her. She
kind of reminded me of-
Laura sets down her drink.
You smart ass motherf-er.


Hey, easy with the mouth there
Mrs. Pauter. You're a married
kindergarten teacher.
You are nowhere near out of the
doghouse... and you're getting
pretty bold-
(she runs at him)
      (running from her)
I was just messing with you-
The phone rings. Harold and Laura are fast asleep. After the
third ring, Laura reaches over and grabs the phone off the
(a beat)
What! You're kidding!
(a beat)
Hold on-
Laura sits up, finds the t.v. remote. She snaps on the t.v.,
and hyperactively situates herself on the bed.
      (cont'd - on phone)
Alright alright, what channel?
(a beat, her eyes widen)
Oh my god, I'll call you back.
Laura rustles awake, a semi-sleeping Harold.
Harold! Get up. Look at this.


Harold sits up next to Laura. His eyes also widen. On CNN,
Dook sits at a long table of a news conference. The bottom
headline reads "Baldness Cure?".
What the hell? Is this a joke?
(watches more)
You ambitious little...
Harold, he can't do this. He can't
get away with this. I mean,
how...can he?
Well, technically he can, and
right now legally he can, until I-
I don't get it. You busted your
ass for this. You drove me fricken
nuts with this.
Harold alternates between looking at Laura and the t.v.
I was kind of forced into a
contractual agreement. As of
now...the rights are basically
his. I mean, plus, they have the
stuff. That's all there really was
to it. I didn't add a whole hell
of lot to the mixture. Nothing too
complex or active anyway.
A contract. How. He didn't really
have time, did he.
He had enough. He had a goddamn
contract written up. Nothing
fancy, but it looked like enough
and I signed it. I wasn't that
shocked about the contract at the
time, seeing that he WAS holding a


                       HAROLD (cont'd)
gun at me.
That sonuvabitch, I can't believe
him. How in the world-
      (listening to t.v.)
Shhhh, hold on.
They both watch attentively.
      (on t.v.)
If you'll look at this picture
behind me, you'll see that I was
virtually bald around my cortex,
as well as my entire crown. But
get a close up of my hair.
(he runs through it roughly with
his hand)
It's impervious to the elements.
This is no Rogaine folks.
There is a rumble of laughter from the crowd of reporters.
                       REPORTER (o.s.)
Why did you go to CNN with the
story, and what do you expect to
gain from this news conference?
Look. Had I tried to call one of
the big pharmaceutical companies,
they would have hung up on me, and
treating me like some nut. I knew
I would get the press with CNN,
and I knew that this would be big
news. I mean, come on. We're
talking about a cure for baldness
here. I want these companies to
know who I am, and to know that
I'm for real, and that we're about
to become a lot wealthier, whoever
I choose to be with.


Laura presses mute on the t.v.
I really can't believe the nerve
of this guy. I mean...I had him
over at my parents for dinner
once. I mean, I should call his
Honey. This IS a bit of a
different situation than normal.
This isn't a boyhood fight up at
the park. Just listen.
Harold grabs the remote from Laura and presses the volume
back on.
                       DOOK (o.s.)
So I can't really disclose any of
THAT type of information at the
present time.
                       REPORTER 2
Would you do the demonstration on
the validity of the hair again for
Dook motions to the guy to his left. The guy knows what to
do. He starts rubbing vigorously on Dook's head and also
pulling at it, while Dook's face is showing some discomfort.
As you can see, there is no way
that this could be make-up or
prosthetic hair of any sort. He's
nearly taking off my scalp as it
His PARTNER continues the display.
See!? See!?


When will a product hit the
shelves? Will you try to bypass
the FDA, and go straight to market
like metabolife did?
Noises of intense interest and questioning burst from the
crowd . Harold has had enough, and snaps the t.v. off.
I can't stomach any more of this.
Honey, don't worry
(rubs Harold's chest)
he won't get away with this. It's
just a matter of time. You'll know
what to do-
I already know what to do.
Laura's curiosity is peaked.
I'm going to...start where I left
off last night, and help make us a
(He kisses her stomach wildly, and
then looks up at her)
You've wanted this long enough,
and I think the timing couldn't be
better. We can just pack and
leave. Move back to Minnesota.
Surprise everyone. I've had my way
for a long time. Now I want to
help make your dreams come true, I
mean, we hardly even know anyone
(starts laughing)
I feel like I've been hiding you
in a prison or something. I hope
you'll forgive me.
Laura pushes Harold and gets on top of him.


Do you really mean it? I mean,
what if you change your mind, and
throw some fit in a day, and say
you were just crazy then?
No, I mean it. Lets start our real
life now. I know it wasn't
complete misery here, but I know
we could of been a lot happier. I
just felt like I needed to run
away. I didn't want people to see
me or have to deal with
anyone.Isn't that crazy? Now it
seems so stupid.Like anybody
really cares. I've hid out here
just to avoid 4-5 seconds here and
there of some jerk saying "geez
Pauter, you've sure lost a lot of
Well, it's about time. It looks
like you learned a little more
than just how to pick up trampy
woman on your little adventure.
Nowwwww. About the baby...
Harold throws her on top of him, and rips off her shirt. She
looks pleased. Turned on. Surprised.
Oh Harold.
The couple lie next to each other, half out of breath, and
staring at the ceiling.
You know, I'll miss this house.
It's just so...perfect.


Yeahhh. But we can build an even
better one. Especially the
kitchen. I already know what I
want. I'm so excited-
Oh my god. Oh my god.
Harold's sits up. He shows Laura a handful of hair lodged
between his fingers.
I knew it.
He runs his hands through his hair, which yield consistent
handfuls of hair. Lots of hair. He flickers his hand off the
side of the bed, as hair falls to the floor in bulk.
Well. Don't you think I better
call Dook and let him know?
Harold looks at Laura with a serious face. Laura looks at
him, and they both start to laugh hysterically. Harold
stands up on the bed shaking his head around, while hairs
trickle down.
Fuck this, I've been down this
road. I'll be right back.
Harold goes into the bathroom, and shaves his head with the
clippers. He looks back at the mirror and smiles.
      (to mirror)
Now there's the guy I know.
On a big screen t.v., the Minnesota Vikings play the Detroit
Lions. Thanksgiving decorum is evident throughout the room,
and in other rooms in the background.


Laura sits on a couch next to her parents. She is pregnant.
Harold's Mom, and several other family members fill the
room, and listen as Laura is in the middle telling a story.
Everyone is smiling, drinking wine, and a fire roars off to
the side.
And I really didn't know what to
do. These two Asian guys are in my
backyard, filling up bags of
parrot shit.
(laughter from everyone)
And it was just bizarre. Now, Dook
is working for Harold as
restitution, as part of the
agreement of Harold dropping all
charges. Dook said he had a
temporary lapse of good judgement,
and that Harold is the best friend
he's ever had. Harold says that
he's really been working hard.
Dook is sitting in the break room at Harold's company, CRAZY
HAIR, by himself in the break room. Looking humble, he eats
a bowl of Raviolis.

A banner on the wall near the ceiling reads "CRAZY HAIR

On the wall is a framed newspaper that reads, "CRAZY HAIR
BUILDING SECOND WAREHOUSE". The subheading reads, "Real
inventor of failed hair cure, keeps rolling with marketing
and sales of "3-Day Hair" product.
"Main Street" by Bob Segar plays on the intercom system.

Dook finishes eating a bowl of canned ravioli, and begins to
put his things away. He looks lonely.
His phone rings, and he hesitantly answers it.


      (on phone with
(a beat)
No, I told you that I wouldn't be
out of here until five-thirty.
(a beat)
Yeah, I know, but you calling
isn't helping. Make sure there's a
ice cold Saporro waiting for me,
and your taping the game right?
(a beat)
Yeah, thanks, see you.
Dook walks out of the dining area, and back into the main
warehouse. He climbs onto his forklift, which has several
full palettes of product suspended overhead.

He hits the gas, and he drives off. The warehouse is
immense, showcasing the success of Crazy Hair.
Harold has just been amazing with
everything. He's really like a
different person. Isn't that right
Hey, don't embarrass me now. Don't
ruin a good thing. I was blind,
and could not see.
(he looks at Pam with her Holiday
eye patch)
That's why the next thing I'm
going to invent is an actual
working, asthetic, prostetic eye
for my Mom.
Pam laughs, and adjusts her eye.


Hey, don't do me any favors now.
I've made it this long...But if
you have spare time...
Pam's voice fades, and music comes in. Harold takes a sip of
wine, and the glow in his eyes, matches the glow of the
house. A warmth created from good lighting, a fire, and
Something catches his eye from the dining room. He looks in
that direction, and his face brightens.
His Father is in the dining room listening in, and smiling
at Harold. He takes a sip of wine, and raises his glass to

Harold does likewise, and smiles at his Dad. He shakes his
head to say, you were right. They both drink.
The focus is back on Laura:
I'm just glad we're back, and
surrounded with people we love,
and-I feel like I'm talking too
much, but this is surreal. The
holidays were the worst part.
Either we wouldn't come here, or
we would, and then I knew we had
to come back, which was almost
harder on me. And-
      (stands and raises
       his glass)
And we're looking forward to
raising our family here. We know
we won't have far to look when we
need babysitters when we need a
second or two to scratch our
heads. We just hope that everyone
missed us, as much as we missed
you. Because if not, we'll move
right back.


                       HAROLD (cont'd)
Honestly, I couldn't be happier.
If only I had hair.
Everyone laughs, and Harold hangs his head, feigning shame
and sorrow, and looks up at Laura and laughs.


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