Larry is putting money in a newspaper dispenser outside the grocery store. He takes a paper out, leafs through it. A GUY comes up and opens up the dispenser without paying and takes a paper out.
Larry: Hey, did you put money in?
Guy: No.
Larry: What, it just opens up?
Guy: Yeah. And I figure if they’re stupid enough to keep putting papers in a broken machine, we should be smart enough to take advantage of it.
Larry: Well didn’t you see me putting money in just now? Couldn’t you have let me know the machine was broken? You know? Saved me a couple quarters?
Guy: Everybody’s gotta learn for themselves.
Larry: Oh that’s some philosophy. Convenient for you.
Larry is in his car on his cell phone talking to Jeff.
Larry: Isn’t that just a basic rule? If you know something like that, the machine’s broken, you speak up!
Jeff (in his office): Of course!
Larry: You don’t just sit idly by while someone’s throwing money away.
Jeff: No!
Larry: It was like he had never even considered that he could use what he knew to help others.
Jeff: What are you doing right now?
Larry: I’ve got an appointment with Dr. Bartholomue.
Jeff: Oh yeah. You switched. How is that guy?
Larry: I’m not sure yet.
Jeff: Really?
Larry: I can’t get a clear read on him yet. All right, I’m pulling in now. I’ll talk to you later.
Larry is in session with his shrink, Dr. Bartholomue, who recommends a new treatment called “gun therapy.”
Larry: Gun therapy?
Bartholomue: Yeah.
Larry: I’ve heard of sun therapy, but not gun therapy, unless you mean like this-
(he puts his finger to his temple like a gun)
Bartholomue: No, no, Larry, come on-
Larry: Cause that is probably the ultimate therapy, I admit. But wow! I just didn’t expect you guys to start, you know, finally cutting through all the bolshit to the final solution. Man!
Bartholomue: Larry, come on.
Larry: No, I’m serious.
Bartholomue: No you’re not—
Larry: I’m serious, yes I am. There should be such a shrink. A guy who you go to and he helps you build up the courage to finally deal with the problem. You go in and he actually tells you the truth, you know, “Look, Dave, there’s things you don’t like about yourself and you want me to help you fix it, but, you know, my gut feeling is you’re never gonna be happy. You won’t be able to apply any of my advice. You won’t be able to change. You should really consider the path of ultimate solution, and I can help you get into the right frame of mind for you to end your life quietly and peacefully on your own terms.”
Bartholomue (serious): Larry?
Larry: All right. It’s just a funny thing to call it - gun therapy. Who came up with that?
Bartholomue: Well it’s actually something I’ve been developing and researching for a long time, Larry, and it’s really starting to show some results.
Larry: Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it was your thing—it’s just I’ve heard of Sun therapy but now Gun therapy—
Bartholomue: Gun therapy is different. It’s all about release. With gun therapy step one you go out and get a gun, a nice, safe gun—
Larry: A safe gun, what—?
Bartholomue: You know with the safety—
Larry: Guns aren’t safe. Guns kill, that’s what they’re for. You wouldn’t really want a safe one, would you?
Bartholomue: Not in gun therapy they’re not for killing. They’re used for releasing psychological pressure.
Larry: Oh, so I’ve got pressure?
Bartholomue: That’s right Larry, you’re pressured. You’re mind is overheating.
Larry: Overheating?
Bartholomue: Yes and that is creating pressure.
Larry: No, if it’s overheating, that would be creating heat.
Bartholomue: Yes and heat is pressure.
Larry: What? Heat is pressure? I always thought heat was more of a temperature thing.
Bartholomue: Heat creates pressure.
Larry: No heat creates heat. With all due respect, just because you’re a shrink doesn’t mean you’re an expert on physics. This heat is pressure stuff, I don’t know—
Bartholomue: Larry, would you stop?
Larry: What?
Bartholomue: Larry, there’s pressure, up here. You’re manifesting it right now. What you’re doing right now, that’s the pressure.
Larry: Really? What am I doing? I’m having a conversation, we’re talking. I don’t see any pressure?
Bartholomue: Denial is the first sign, Larry.
Larry (laughing): Oh here we go.
Bartholomue: And believe it or not a gun can help.
Larry: You want me to go out and get a gun?
Bartholomue: Yeah.
Larry: And what do I do with it?
Bartholomue: You take it to a firing range or go out to the desert and fire it. See how it makes you feel. Come back and tell me how you feel.
Larry: What’s it gonna do?
Bartholomue: Release the pressure.
Larry: You know, I really, I had to fire a gun, a pistol, in the movie I was in, the Scorcese movie, and I gotta tell you it didn’t—
Bartholomue: Were they real bullets?
Larry: No, it was a movie.
Bartholomue: It has to be real, Larry, not pretend.
Larry: It was a real gun going off, making a really loud noise, there’s really no difference that I can see.
Bartholomue: It has to be with real bullets, the real explosion of a bullet in the gun’s chamber, and the rocketing of that bullet out of the gun into the atmosphere.
Larry: So it’s bullet therapy, is what you’re saying.
Bartholomue: No.
Larry: Cause now it’s not the gun, it’s the bullets. It can be a real gun and a real explosion but if it’s a blank the therapy won’t work, so it’s really the bullet more than the gun. Bullet therapy.
Bartholomue: Are you done?
Larry: What?
Bartholomue: You need to trust me, Larry.
Larry: I don’t know. I don’t even know where to get a gun.
Bartholomue: Larry, how old are you?
Larry: When it comes to guns, I’m about five years old. I feel like I’m about five.
Bartholomue: That’s part of the therapy, Larry. Maybe it’s time to grow up.
Larry walks up to the counter at a gun store and looks around at the pistols in the display case. The ATTENDANT is there to help.
Attendant: Can I help you with something?
Larry (looking): Um. Yeah, I kinda like this one.
Attendant: Okay.
Larry: I like that long barrel. What’s that called?
Attendant (taking it out): That would be the 44 magnum.
Larry (holding it): Wow! This is some gun.
Attendant: So you need a gun, huh?
Larry: Yeah.
Attendant: What do you need it for?
Larry: What?
Attendant: What do you need it for?
Larry (thrown off): Is this--? Well actually I was thinking about, you know—
(He puts his hand up to his temple like a gun)
—killing myself.
Attendant (shrugging): Uh-huh. Let me go box that up for you.
(Larry’s confused. The Attendant returns.)
Larry: So you don’t mind if I use it to…you know…?
Attendant: That’s really none of my business.
Larry: That’s right, it’s not. So why would you ask me what I need it for?
Attendant (pretending to not hear him): I’m sorry?
Larry: Forget it.
Larry and Jeff are having lunch.
Larry: Is that common practice to ask what I need it for?
Jeff: Yeah. People shoot their whole families with guns. You have to screen out the bad guys.
Larry: Oh sure. Just ask and a guy and he’ll come right out with his plan to go on a killing spree.
Jeff: You told him you were gonna kill yourself.
Larry: But I’m not. If I was actually going to do it, I would have lied
Jeff: You did lie.
Larry: Yeah, you’re right.
Jeff: You shouldn’t lie. You should be honest. Tell the truth.
Larry: That’s really funny coming from you. (Smiling) God, you know, suicide has always been one of my favorite conversational topics.
Jeff (laughing): Oh yeah?
Larry: Yeah. When I think of it, it perks me up.
Jeff: It perks you up?
Larry: Yeah. People think it’s morbid, it’s not morbid. How could it perk me up if it’s morbid?
Jeff: I don’t know, maybe you’re psychotic.
Larry: Yeah. And now I’ve got a gun.
Jeff: I’m gonna start wearing a bullet-proof vest.
Larry: Don’t bother. I’d go right for the head.
Jeff: That’s nice to know.
Larry: Well I want to tell the truth more. Be honest, like you said.
Outside the restaurant, Larry sees a woman, Sandra, leaning into the passenger side of her car, her ass on full display.
Larry: See this?
(He and Jeff stand on the sidewalk checking out her ass. She straightens up and turns to the parking meter to put change in. Larry tries to stop her.)
Larry: No, you don’t have to do that. They don’t check it.
Sandra: So?
Larry: So? I’ve parked here before, many times, never paid the meter, never got a ticket.
Sandra: It’s just a little change.
Larry (to Jeff): Believe this? (To Sandra) I know, just thought I’d let you know these meters, they’re just for show, you don’t—
Sandra: What if I like paying the meter?
Larry: All right, well why don’t you bring whole jars full of change down here and just load it into all the meters and that can be your hobby. You—
Sandra: Okay.
Larry: You can come here everyday and throw your money away.
Sandra: Maybe I should.
Larry: Better yet, why don’t you walk here and bring your jar and just have a meter party, just you and your change and the pointless waste of money.
Sandra: Maybe I will.
Larry: Okay.
Sandra: Mind your own business next time.
Larry: Next time? Next time someone’s insanely paying for free parking? Yeah.
Sandra: Why don’t you go masturbate?
Larry and Jeff: What?
Larry: What’s your name?
Jeff (from in the car): Larry, let’s go.
Larry: Give me a second. I’m Larry David. What’s yours? Come on, I want to meet you, you’re…
Sandra: Sandra Kern.
Larry: Sandra. You are on my wavelength, Sandra, but I hope I’m not as insane as you.
Sandra: Insane? I’m not insane. I’m just not cheap. I follow the rules. You park next to a meter, you put change in. You see an ambulance coming, you pull off to the side, you enter a school zone, you slow down.
Larry: Don’t you speed up. I thought you’re supposed to speed up?
Sandra: You’re a cheapskate, and you expect everybody else to be. Well I’m not cheap. I’m right to not be cheap. You know what you are? You’re like the little cartoon red devil on my shoulder (only bald) whispering what a great idea it is to cheat, real clever about all the glories of cheating. I hope you feel good about yourself.
Larry (stunned): Wow. You’re right. You’re—
Jeff: Larry! Come on!
Larry: I’m just some little red devil on people’s shoulders—
Sandra: Yeah, only bald.
Larry: Hey! You don’t have to keep mentioning that, okay?
Sandra: Oh does that hurt your feelings?
Larry: You think we’re all so sensitive about it, but let me tell you what you don’t know. Being bald is easy.
Sandra: Yeah, uh-huh.
Larry: That’s right, it’s easy. But you’ll never get to find that out. You’ll have to deal with that tangled mess your whole life. Have fun.
Jeff: Larry!
(He finally gets in and they drive off, Larry craning his neck to ogle Sandra. Once she’s out of sight, he snaps out of it.)
Larry: Boy, now there’s someone I could cheat on Cheryl with.
Jeff: What? Don’t tell me that. Cheryl hates me enough already.
Larry: You’ve done it.
Jeff: What, cheated? Yeah. Don’t do it. With her? She’s insane.
Larry: Yeah.
Jeff: She did have a nice ass though.
(Larry nods.)
That night Larry is asleep next to Cheryl. He dreams: He’s a little bald red devil on Sandra’s shoulder. He’s whispering into her ear. She grins. Then she raises a pistol and fires it into Larry’s face. He screams, waking up Cheryl.
Cheryl: Larry? Larry, wake up. You’re having a nightmare.
Larry (disoriented): What?
Cheryl: You just screamed out ‘No, Sandra, no!’ Who’s Sandra?
Larry: Sandra?
Cheryl: Yes, Sandra. What happened? What made you scream?
Larry: Oh I think it was Sandra Dee.
Cheryl: The actress from the 50’s?
Larry: I was an actor, and she was in the movie. It was a surfer movie. She was gonna say the wrong line, and I tried to stop her.
Cheryl: Surfer movies are from the sixties, Larry.
Larry: It’s a dream, not a fucking documentary, Cheryl.
Cheryl: Sandra Dee was in your dream?
Larry: Yes, Sandra Dee. We were on the beach. She was looking out across the ocean, and China was coming toward us on the water. She was supposed to say “The sky is getting red.” But instead she was gonna say, “The…moon…is growing horns.”
Cheryl: What? Larry, you need to go back to sleep.
Larry: Hey, we can’t choose our nightmares, Cheryl.
(Cheryl turns over and clicks her light off.)
It’s morning. Walking through the kitchen Larry sees a jar of change on the counter. He picks it up and takes it outside to Cheryl.
Larry: Why was this sitting on the counter?
Cheryl: Why?
Larry: It’s just a weird thing to see lying around.
Cheryl: I was cleaning out the drawer.
Larry: Cleaning out the drawer. What drawer?
Cheryl: The junk drawer.
Larry: Junk drawer, we have a junk drawer?
Cheryl: Uh, yeah.
Larry: Where?
Cheryl: In the kitchen. Do you live here?
Larry: Yes I do, and evidently there’s a lot going on I don’t know about, including this, a jar of change. I had no idea we had this.
Cheryl: Whatever Larry.
Larry: Do you mind if I take this and cash it in? There’s this machine in the grocery store I see people using. It’s this machine and you pour coins in and money comes out. Bills come out.
Cheryl: Are we not doing well? Are we going broke or something? What’s the deal?
Larry: No, I just—do you mind?
Cheryl: Go ahead.
Larry: All right. I’ll see you later.
Walking into the store he sees a woman preparing to put money in the broken newspaper dispenser. He runs to stop her.
Larry: No, stop, wait.
(He gets to her in time, opens the lid)
Larry: See? It doesn’t work. You don’t have to pay. You just take one. And I figure if they’re stupid enough to keep putting papers in a broken machine, we should be smart enough to take advantage of it.
Woman: Thanks, I’d rather pay.
Larry: What? But look! You can just take one.
Woman: I’m not cheap, okay? I’m not a thief.
(She notices the jar of change, then recognizes him.)
Woman: Aren’t you Larry David? Co-creator of Seinfeld?
He looks at the jar of change, at her, thinks about it, but cannot mount an explanation. He sheepishly walks back to his car and heads to the restaurant, where he giddily begins throwing change into the parking meters. He greets people at their car doors.
Larry: Are you gonna park here?
Person: Yes.
Larry: Great! Let me pay the meter for you.
Person: Do they even check those?
Larry: No, they don’t!
(He bops down the sidewalk paying meters. At one meter, he puts so much change in it won’t take any more. Right then a mounted Police officer is clip-clopping down the sidewalk. Larry flags him down.)
Larry: Excuse me officer this meter won’t take any more change.
Officer: There’s no car there. We don’t even monitor those. What are you doing?
Larry: I’m—(noticing the horse) boy look at that horse. My God, what a beautiful animal. What beautiful animals horses are. What’s the breed here?
Officer: Arabian.
Larry: Can I pet him at all. Do you mind?
Officer: I’d rather you didn’t.
Larry (indicating the horse): What about him? He mind?
Officer: He’d rather you didn’t.
Larry: How can you tell?
Officer: See that?
(He points to the horse’s leg.)
Larry: No.
Officer: He flexes his shoulder muscle when he wants to get away from bald freaks.
(The officer clip-clops away.)
Larry: Hey! I pay your salary asshole! I’m calling the mayor. I’ll have your badge! I’ll have that horse castrated!
Larry is at home talking to Cheryl.
Larry: He won’t let me pet the horse. I pay for that horse. Taxpayer money. He’s gonna tell me I can’t pet it?
Cheryl: Uh-huh. What were you doing down there?
Larry: Oh, I was…taking a walk.
Cheryl: A walk?
Larry: Yeah. I take walks sometimes.
Cheryl: Larry, who’s Sandra?
Larry: Here we go. Look honestly it’s just some woman I saw the other day and she was putting change in the meter and just to do her a favor I told her she didn’t need to do that cause they don’t check it and she got all weird about it and we kind of argued about it—
Cheryl: About what?
Larry: I don’t know. She—
Cheryl: At what point did you find out what her name was?
Larry: Um. (thinking) She had a…vanity license plate. Sandra.
Cheryl: Maybe it wasn’t her car.
Larry: I don’t think the vanity license plate people loan out their cars.
Cheryl: No?
Larry: They’re very selfish people, the vanity people. They shouldn’t call them vanity plates. They should call them selfish plates.
Cheryl: Yeah, that really has a ring to it Larry. That really flows.
Larry (chuckling): What?
Larry and Jeff are driving out to the desert to try out the gun. They pull of to the side of the road and walk toward a huge ancient rock formation. Jeff sets a soda can on the arm of a cactus. Larry aims and fires at the can but a bird swoops down at the wrong time. Feathers go flying.
Larry: Oh no!
Jeff: Nice shot!
Larry: Oh my God look at that.
Jeff: Yeah that’s no bb gun you’re firing.
Larry: It just came in. I was shooting at the can.
Jeff: I know.
Larry: The bird flew right into the bullet.
Jeff: Unbelievable!
(looking at the dead bird on the ground)
Larry: Boy, that’s total decimation. That’s like video game stuff.
Jeff: Yikes.
Larry: You don’t think…?
Jeff: What?
Larry: Could this be…suicide?
Jeff: What?
Larry: Bird suicide?
Jeff: Bird suicide? No!
Larry: Why not? They don’t get depressed too?
Jeff: No! They can fly. They can’t get depressed.
Larry: Well, if it is, it’s one hell of a feat. To time it just right like that.
Jeff: Should we bury it?
Larry: No, just leave it.
Jeff is driving as they head back into the city.
Jeff: So how’d that make you feel firing that gun? Feel better?
Larry: I tell you I have never been so absolutely done with a shrink. Gun therapy. It’s ridiculous. I felt nothing. Maybe a little ear pain. That’s what I should tell him. Yeah, doc, I’m noticing some hearing loss. Is that a good sign?
Jeff: Ha! That’s good. You should do it.
(They pass a Police car parked in the median.)
Larry: Could we get in trouble for having a loaded weapon in the car? I mean how are you supposed to get the gun to where you’re going to fire it? You can buy the gun, but you can’t take it anywhere to fire it.
Jeff: You didn’t unload it?
Larry: Unload it? I don’t know how to unload it, only how to load it.
Jeff: What? The gun’s loaded?
Larry: I think so, yeah.
Jeff: Well unload it. You can’t have a loaded weapon in the car.
Larry: Didn’t you hear me? I don’t know how to unload it.
Jeff: Just take the bullets out for Christ sake.
(They don’t notice but a car is pulling up along side and the driver sees Larry, whose struggle with the gun makes it appear like he’s pointing it at Jeff. The shocked driver drifts back behind them and goes to his cell phone to call Police. Jeff looks over just in time to see the car drifting back.)
Jeff: Did you see that? Somebody saw you with the gun. They’re calling the police.
Larry: Calling the police? How? They’re in their car.
Jeff: Cell phone, you idiot! God! Keep the gun down. Don’t point it—
POLICE SIREN, POLICE LIGHTS.
Jeff: Oh shit. What’d I tell you? Dammit.
Larry: Oh fuck.
Jeff: Remain calm.
(They pull over. They watch behind them as the cop gets out. The cop is a gorgeous thin blond who looks like a Playboy model. She gets out in her tight uniform, her long hair flowing in the breeze.)
Jeff: Oh my God, she’s hot.
Larry: Holy shit look at her. Wow. I had no idea this was going on.
Jeff: What?
Larry: Hot cops, like her. You know, this could be fake. She could be impersonating an officer. I’m gonna ask to see her badge.
Jeff: What? Her badge? What about her tits?
Larry: Yeah them too.
(She’s at the window. She takes off her sunglasses and looks into the car.)
She: I got a call of a gun in the car?
Larry: Yeah. Could I see your credentials? I’m gonna need some proof.
She: Proof?
Jeff: Larry, what are you doing?
Larry: Shut up. I’m having a real hard time believing you’re a cop.
She: Can’t you see my badge right here? (She points to her shirt, massaging her breast in the process. Jeff begins to drool.)
Larry: Yeah, but that’s an accessory, something you get at a costume shop, a costume shop accessory. How about the papers, the picture ID?
She’s going beat red as she starts frantically searching her pockets. She doesn’t have her Police ID!
She (her voice shaking): I don’t have it on me right now.
Larry: Oh, you don’t have it on you right now. Sure, sure. I’ve heard that one before.
(She starts crying.)
Jeff (consoling): Oh, that’s okay. Don’t cry.
Larry: Oh like I haven’t seen that before, the tear card. Nope. Not gonna work, honey. Don’t even try it.
Jeff: Larry!
Larry: Nope. I’m not gonna fall for that ploy.
(Covering her face, sobbing, she darts back to her car and takes off.)
Larry and Jeff: What? What’s she doing? Can we go?
Jeff: We can go.
Larry: Are you sure?
Jeff (angered): Do you realize what you just did?
Larry: Yeah I just saved us a trip to jail.
Jeff: No. We could have blackmailed her into getting naked.
Larry: What?
Jeff: Do you realize how much trouble they get in if they get caught without their ID? She would have totally taken her top off.
Larry: Just not thinking, I guess.
Larry is taking a walk. Approaching an intersection, he recognizes Sandra, who is standing waiting for the “Walk” signal even though there are no cars in sight in any direction. He walks up and stands next to her. She looks over. They wait together on the corner as the signal never changes.
The End
