Most Likely To.

INT. ELEVATOR - DAY

TOM is standing in an elevator with the doors

open. He sees BILL approaching.

TOM

Going up?

Bill enters and the doors close. They both

face forward. Bill seems nervous.

TOM

What floor?

BILL

Huh? Oh, uh, twenty-three.

Tom pushes the button and they both wait,

occasionally looking up to see what floor

they've passed. Bill steps in front of

Tom and presses the emergency stop button.

TOM

Whoops! That's the emergency stop button

there, buddy. It's a common mistake.

I'll fix it.

Bill sticks his hand into his coat pocket like he

has a gun.

BILL

Don't touch that button.

TOM

Hey, what's going on here?

BILL

Give me your wallet and shut up.

TOM

You're holding me up on an elevator?

You don't hold people up on an

elevator. This is New York City.

Hold me up on the street, like
everyone else.

BILL

Just give me your damn

wallet and be quick about it.

Tom starts handing over his wallet.

TOM

Okay. Okay. Take it easy.

Tom takes a hard look at his mugger.

TOM

Wait a minute. Bill? Bill Richardson?

Syracuse? Class of '89?

BILL

Holy cow. Tom Dawson. Son-of-a-bitch.

TOM

How the hell are you, Bill?

BILL

What do you mean how the hell am I?

I'm holding you up on an elevator.

How the hell do you think I am?

TOM

Well, Bill, this isn't like you.

I mean, you held some kind of

distinction in college. You were

voted...

BILL

(interrupting) Yeah, yeah, most

likely to succeed. Don't remind me.

I've had that ghost chasing me around

for the past eighteen years. You'll

never know the pressure behind being

voted most likely to succeed.

(beat) By the way, what were you voted?

TOM

(proud) Class clown.

BILL

Well, no pressure there, right Tommy

boy? I mean, class clown. What do

you have to worry about? Acting stupid

in public? The class expects it of you.

Playing the fool? Come on. It was

your destiny. But try living up to

most likely to succeed. I mean,

it's not like I didn't try.

I tried running an advertising agency.

Okay, my only client was some guy

who made cosmetics for animals,

but I tried. What does the class clown

have to worry about? How many pencils

he can stick up his nose?

TOM

What? You think making people laugh

is easy? Try farting on command.

Besides, didn't you marry Jenny Lewis?

Our Homecoming Queen?

BILL
Oh, yeah, beautiful Jenny with the

gorgeous figure. She got so tired

of waiting for me to be a success,

she ran away with the fry cook from

the Waffle House.

TOM

That's nothing. Remember Betsy Gordon?

BILL

The Class Pig?

TOM

That's her. She's currently

Mrs. Tom Dawson.

BILL

Get out of here. She was voted

most likely to go down on anyone.

TOM

Yeah. Anyone but me. Wait a minute.

I read somewhere, recently, that you

got some kind of citation.

BILL

Yeah. For vagrancy. The mayor issued

it to me personally. What do you do?

TOM

Me? Oh, I have a talent agency.

I found out there are a lot of

talented class clowns out there.

I book them into colleges, mostly.

BILL

Say, uh, Tom, you wouldn't have an

opening for me, would you?

TOM

Well, what kind of talent do you

have? Do you tell jokes?

BILL

No.

TOM

Dance?

BILL

No.

TOM

Play a musical instrument?

BILL

Not really. I can sing a little.

TOM

Well, let's hear.

BILL

(excited) Really?

TOM

Sure. Go ahead. I'll audition you

right here.

Bill sings a chorus of "FEELINGS" and not too

very well at that. Tom looks at him in disbelief, presses the "DOORS OPEN" button on the elevator and hands his wallet over to Bill. Bill throws it back at Tom.

BILL

I don't need a pity wallet.

TOM

Then the hell with you.

BILL

Alright, fine, you bastard. You just

wait. Someday, you'll be out on the

street, just like me. With nothing.

Alone. Nobody will give a damn

about you, Mr. Fancy Talent Agency.

You can go screw yourself!

Bill exits. Tom looks out.

TOM

So, will I see you at the reunion?

FADE OUT.

THE END