Price, the Low-Life Professo by hotpiehot

PRICE, the LOW-LIFE PROFESSOR

FADE IN:

INT. BAR - NIGHT

(THE BAR IS LOCATED ABOUT 2 MILES FROM
A MAJOR UNIVERSITY CAMPUS. ONE TABLE ON
THE LEFT STAGE, TWO TABLES RIGHT STAGE.
ON THE TABLES, CANDLES MELTED OVER THE
MOUTHS OF EMPTY WINE BOTTLES. CHAIRS.
BAR WITH STOOLS. THE BACKGROUND GIVES
AN IMPRESSION OF ANOTHER ROOM FROM WHICH
PEOPLE ENTER OR EXIT INTO. THE MOOD OF
THE PLACE IS NITTY GRITTY, COOL, AND
ANYTHING GOES. COUPLE DANCING IN
BACKGROUND. MAN SITS AT THE LEFT
STAGE TABLE, DRINKING. FOUR PEOPLE
ON THE STOOL AT THE BAR, INCLUDING A
BLACK COUPLE AND THE BARTENDER BEHIND.
MUSIC WILL SHIFT FROM HAMMER'S "TOO LEGIT
TO QUIT" TO "HOW DOES IT FEEL TO BE A
ROLLING STONE?" TO FINALLY THE "..DON'T
KNOW MUCH ABOUT BIOLOGY, DON'T KNOW MUCH
ABOUT HISTORY..." SONG, OR APPROPRIATE
SUBSTITUTIONS. AS THE SKETCH DEVELOPES,
PEOPLE WILL PACK THE BAR LIKE SARDINES IN
A LISTERINE BOTTLE. THE DOOR OPENS. PRICE
ENTERS. HE HAS SUBDUEDLY WAVED DIRTY BLOND
HAIR. DRESS IS PROFESSORIAL SUIT AND TIE.
HIS VOICE SOUNDS LIKE ORANGE JELLO, A BIT
WOBBLY SMOOTH. HE CARRIES A LOOSE FOLDER
FILLED WITH PAPERS AND A BOOK. PROFESSOR
OF AESTHETICS AT THE UNIVERSITY, HE HAS A
NIMBLE SENSE OF HUMOR. THE LITTLE BOY
INSIDE OF HIM REMAINS, LOOKING OUT AT THE
CRAZINESS THROUGH ROSE-COLORED ZOOM LENS.)

MAN AT LEFT STAGE TABLE
(GREETS PRICE.)

Hey, man!

(SHOTS OF PEOPLE TURNING TO LOOK AT
PRICE. PRICE GOES TO THE BAR.)

PRICE
(PLACING MONEY ON THE BAR.)

Good evening, Max. Split of red, please.

BARTENDER

Hey, Price. How's it goin' ?

PRICE
(JOKING.)

Heavy, Holms. Uhh, gettin' down, man.

BARTENDER
(LAUGHS SOFTLY.)

Ookkay. Here's your red. Enjoy, Prof.

(PRICE WITH THE SPLIT, SMALL GLASS,
FOLDER AND BOOK TUCKED UNDER ONE ARM
MOVES TO THE EMPTY TABLE RIGHT STAGE
NEAREST THE BAR. HIS MOVEMENTS ARE
CONTROLLED, SMOOTH, BUT NOT YET EFFETE.)

MAN AT THE BAR

Who's that?

BARTENDER

He's a full professor of philosophy at the university.
Yeah, no lie. He's here almost every night. You figure it.

MAN AT THE BAR

Professor, huh?

BARTENDER

Yeah.

(SHOTS OF THE VARIOUS CHARACTERS IN THE
PLACE. SLEAZY-LOOKING OR MEAN OR INSANE.
THE TITLE "PRICE, the LOW-LIFE PROFESSOR"
OVERLAYS THE SHOTS AS WE FOLLOW PRICE TO
HIS TABLE. HE SETS DOWN THE BOOK, FOLDER,
AND WINE BOTTLE, SITS, POURS A GLASS OF
THE RED WINE. HE OPENS THE FOLDER AND
STARTS TO CORRECT STUDENTS' PAPERS.)

PRICE
(READING FROM THE PAPER.)

Damn, he wrote the essay in Sanskrit again!

(WRITING COMMENT ON THE PAPER.)

"I am not impressed."

(TO HIMSELF.)

Of course not.
"Your grade is an isotropic invariant.
Not hamburger. No cheap tricks.
It does not depend on the Indo- or nonIndo-
European language you use in your paper!
Write in English!"
Now here's some ancient Chinese. See how he likes it!

(AS HE WRITES, A BLACK MAN APPROACHES
THE TABLE.)

BLACK MAN

Yo, yo, hey, ma man, the Price man, what Is
yo price? This moment in time, what Is yo price?!

(LAUGHS, SWAGGERS.)

You here again? A big professor - professor
of what, if I may ask? In this low-life, hip
snappin', bugger-flyin', tom-cat housin' den
of incineration, baebby?

PRICE

Oh, it's not that bad. I'm professor of aesthetics at the university.

(AT THIS MOMENT A MAN AT THE
BAR FALLS OFF HIS STOOL.)

I find it rather, uh, interesting.

BLACK MAN

Yeah, uh-huh. And it gonna git even moe
interestin' when that dude crawls ove here
and lays puke-salad up on those exams.

PRICE

No, not exams. Students' essays on
"Schopenhauer's Ideal of Beauty Applied to
Botticelli's Venus".

(THE MAN BEGINS CRAWLING
TOWARDS THE TABLE.)

BLACK MAN

Shiit! Better hide them essays - or buy him
moe "Stud Maker Malt" to hit'em on da head!

PRICE

Ha, ha. I met him last night. That's, uh,
Mr. Hyde. Amazing man. Totally trustworthy.

BLACK MAN

What universitee you workin', man, the
universitee of da marshmellow brains or what?

PRICE

Why, it's a very prestigious place, uh, dude.
Several Nobel Prize winners are on the faculty.
In fact, Professor Jell-Kink pioneered the
quark theory of matter. But, uh, I think he's
crazy.

(THE MAN REACHES THE TABLE AND
HAULS HIMSELF ONTO A CHAIR. HE
LOOKS UP, AROUND, AND AT PRICE.
THEN APPEARS ABOUT TO THROW UP
- PRICE LIFTS AWAY HIS PAPERS AND
THE BLACK MAN QUICKLY TURNS THE MAN
AND HIS CHAIR TOWARDS THE DOOR THROUGH
WHICH A COUPLE ARE ENTERING. THE MAN
MAKES A LOUD PUKING SOUND, SCARING THE
COUPLE TO TURN ROUND AND OUT.)

BLACK MAN

Price man, how do I enroll? I gonna get a
Ph.D. foe sure, Doctor of Drinkin' !

(HE TURNS TO GO.)

You be careful, Professer Man.

(HE RETURNS TOWARDS THE BACK OF THE BAR.
PRICE RESUMES CORRECTING ESSAYS.
A MAN IN A DRESS AND WIG ENTERS FROM THE
BACK, MAKES A HALF-CIRCUIT OF PRICE'S
TABLE AND BEGINS TO READ OVER HIS
SHOULDER.)

MAN IN DRESS

I don't get this. This - vague, vague.
What's he mean, hey? Is Beautiful, like
me, in the soul, an in-glow. Foxxy luuungs.
Sexxy cells. Or pseudo-plastic-sham
slam-dunked on your face like silly putty.

PRICE
(REACTING WITH APPRECIATION,
AND WRITING - .)

"...like Silly Putty." I like that. Vivid. And -

(MAN IN DRESS PLOPS DOWN ON THE TABLE TOP.
PRICE SEES HIM FOR THE FIRST TIME.)

- huh, unusual. Unusual, yes.

(RAISES A HAND TO TAKE OFF HIS
GLASSES THEN REALIZES HE ISN'T
WEARING ANY.)

Contacts. I'm wearing contacts.

(MAN IS DRESS TAKES PRICE'S WINE GLASS
AND DRINKS. THE DOOR OPENS. TWO STUDENTS
ENTER, ONE OF THEM QUITE FAT MALE AND
THE OTHER A VALLEY GIRL BLOND.)

FAT STUDENT

Oh, wow, there's Professor Price Deepshit.
He's a genius. Let's go try to sit with him.

VALLEY GIRL

Who's he? Who's that? Why do we have to sit
with anybody? I hate this place.

(THEY GO TO THE TABLE, PASSING THE CHAIR-
BOUND MR. HYDE WHO STARES ANGRILY TO THE
CEILING.)

FAT STUDENT

Hey, professor, remember me, remember me?

MAN IN DRESS

Hi!

FAT STUDENT

I was in your Philosophy 27A class, you know,
Intro to Existentialism. I am what I do,
I really believe that.

MAN IN DRESS

You are what you eat.

PRICE

Or what you wear.

VALLEY GIRL

He's correcting papers - c'mon!

FAT STUDENT

In a bar? He's partying - .

(TO MAN IN DRESS.)

Who are you?

PRICE

No, no, that's okay. Can't deny that. Can I?
I correct, therefore I am. And -

(SIPS WINE.)

I do, uh, party. Some. Awful wine. But do I
want to live forever? Sure, why not. Whoopi,
ha, ha. Uh, what was your name?

FAT STUDENT
(SITTING DOWN.)

Mao Tsetung.

MAN IN DRESS

Wanna dance?

PRICE
(CONFUSED. TO MAN IN DRESS AND THE FAT
STUDENT.)

Pardon me?

(MAN IN DRESS BEGINS SWAYING, PERCHED
ON THE TABLE TOP.)

FAT STUDENT

Yeah, my father was a missionary in China.
He named me after - guess, huh?

VALLEY GIRL

Oh, there's Doctor Jekyll!

(SHE SWIVELS OVER TO MR. HYDE.)

I didn't recognize you. Hi!

(MR. HYDE STARES AT THE CEILING.)

Oh, you don't remember me? I had a problem,
you know, my nose was too - .

(MR. HYDE SUDDENLY RECOVERS AND
GRABS HER DOWN. THEY STRUGGLE ON
THE CHAIR.)

Dr. Jekyll - really - I paid you already!

MR. HYDE

Peanuts!

PRICE

Good evening, Mr. Hyde. Glad to see you've recovered.

MR. HYDE

Quiet, you Brain Fart!

(THE FAT STUDENT PICKS UP THE
CANDLE-BOTTLE ON THE TABLE AND
BEANS MR. HYDE UNCONSCIOUS.)

MAN IN DRESS

Eieeeeh!

(TO FAT STUDENT.)

You brute!

PRICE
(WRITING.)

"Brain Fart". That's great.

VALLEY GIRL

Yuuckk! He is deffinitely Uncoouuth for a Nose Specialist, Maaa Godd!

(MAN IN DRESS GOES TO THE
UNCONSCIOUS MR. HYDE, WIPES
HIS HEAD, PLAYING NURSE.)

FAT STUDENT
(TO PRICE.)

Can I sit?

MAN IN DRESS

Noooo!

(FAT STUDENT SITS WITH PRICE.
THE BLACK MAN AND HIS MILITANT
BLACK GIRLFRIEND DANCE IN FROM
THE BACKGROUND.)

PRICE

Surely. It's a bit early, but things pick up
when the night tiptoes on.

(MAKES TIPTOEING MOTION WITH HIS FINGERS.
FAT STUDENTS SITS. VALLEY GIRL, STILL
POUTING, FLOPS DOWN ON HIS LAP.)

You must appreciate every moment. It could be your last.

FAT STUDENT

Uh, Sartre? Heidigger? Camus?

(HE TAKES OUT A FLASK AND SWIGS.)

PRICE

Well, you're close.

(CHUCKLES.)

Mr. Hyde! That's what he told me last night.

(AT THE BAR A FIGHT ERUPTS BETWEEN
TWO MEN. THE BARTENDER KNOCKS ONE
ON THE HEAD WITH A BAT. TO THE
OTHER MAN -.)

BARTENDER

Sit! Be happy. Here -

(SLAPS A DRAFT OF BEER FOR HIM
ON THE COUNTER.)

- on the house.

BLACK MAN
(DANCING BY.)

Hey, Professer, you chillin', man!

VALLEY GIRL

I need a drink!

(SWIGS FROM FLASK.)

(THE DOOR OPENS. AN ARAB-LOOKING
MAN AND HIS GIRLFRIEND AND FRIENDS ENTER.
THEY OCCUPY THE TABLE NEXT TO PRICE'S.
THEY ARE OBVIOUSLY IN VERY PARTY MOODS.
ARAB AND GIRLFRIEND PAW EACH OTHER.)

PRICE
(OVER TO BARTENDER.)

Bottle of red, please!

(PRICE CONTINUES WRITING COMMENTS ON A
STUDENT'S PAPER. MAN IN DRESS PUTS HIS
WIG ON MR. HYDE'S HEAD. MR. HYDE IS
BARELY COMING TO.)

BLACK MAN'S GIRLFRIEND

Who that? He a census taker? Why he writin' ?
You tell him how many kids we got? We got no kids! Liaarrr!

(PRICE NOTICES THE BLACK MAN AND
GIRLFRIEND, STANDS TO INVITE THEM
WITH A GALLANT GESTURE.)

PRICE

Please join me.

(THEY COME, BRINGING A BOTTLE OF WINE.
THE BARTENDER ARRIVES WITH THE BOTTLE
PRICE ORDERED. MR. HYDE STIRS INTO
CONSCIOUSNESS, TAKES THE BOTTLE FROM
THE BARTENDER'S HAND, DRINKS, LOOKS
AROUND THE TABLE.)

BARTENDER

Watch it, pal.

(BARTENDER RETURNS TO THE BAR.
VALLEY GIRL SQUEEZES AWAY FROM
MR. HYDE, LEANS TOWARDS PRICE.)

MR. HYDE
(ABRUPTLY STANDS, LOOKING AROUND WILDLY.)

I want women, song - wine!

(FAT STUDENT SMASHES HIM WITH A CHAIR AND
DEFTLY RETRIEVES THE WINE BOTTLE OUT OF
MR. JEKYLL'S HAND, POURS WINE INTO GLASSES.)

MAN IN DRESS

Aaaaahh!

(CONTINUES TO NURSE MR. HYDE, FIXES THE WIG,
GIVES HIM WINE.)

VALLEY GIRL

You're a philosophee professor? How great!
Gee, ah neva saw youh on campas. Philosophee?
What's philosophee, may ahh askk?

BLACK MAN'S GIRLFRIEND

Who dis bitch? Yo got a dinosaur bugger
up yo nose, or what?

PRICE

A good question. Practical, yet exquisitely sublime.
Very Kierkegaard. Brave girl.
Well, it's hard to say. How many angels can sit
on the head of a pin- ?

MR. HYDE
(GRUMBLES.)

That's disgusting.

PRICE

Ha, ha. Well, basically, philosophy is about Ideas.

VALLEY GIRL

Walll, daamm - .

FAT STUDENT

That's so profound.

BLACK MAN

Succinct.

BLACK MAN'S GIRLFRIEND

Suckkk - wwwhaat?!

(AT THE NEXT TABLE THE ARAB MAN CLIMBS
ONTO THE TABLE TOP AND STARTS TO BELLY
DANCE AS HIS FRIENDS WILDLY ENCOURAGE
HIM WITH GUTTURALS AND RHYTHMIC APPLAUSE,
WHILE HIS GIRLFRIEND'S ATTENTION WANDERS.)

VALLEY GIRL

Waall, whyy, aah loove Ideaas.
Aahh'mm ah philosaphaar maasallff!

BLACK MAN

Yo dumb bitch!

FAT STUDENT
(REACTING TO BLACK MAN.)

Hey -!

(BUT HE IS IMMEDIATELY DISTRACTED. FROM
THE NEXT TABLE THE ARAB'S GIRLFRIEND
CLUTCHES HIS FAT ARM GREEDILY AND LOOKS
INTO HIS EYES WITH LUST. VALLEY GIRL GETS
UP, AGITATED, GOES TO THE BLACK MAN TO
ARGUE.)

ARAB'S GIRLFRIEND

Ara-FAT! Sexy!

(SHE AND FAT STUDENT EMBRACE, SITTING ON
HIS LAP SO HER LOOSE SKIRT COVERS HIS
THIGHS. THEY HAVE SEX, MOANING. THE ARAB
MAN AND HIS FRIENDS REMAIN OBLIVIOUS IN
THEIR CLAPPING AND BELLY DANCING.
MEANWHILE, VALLEY GIRL AND BLACK MAN
ARGUE. HIS GIRLFRIEND DANCES BY HERSELF
FOR A SHORT WHILE.)

VALLEY GIRL

Aaahh aam Not duumb! Aah aamm in college
for yor informashon! Delta, delta, chi!

BLACK MAN

Take them chives o' dogs out'o yo nose, babey!
What is yo name anyway, yo kind'na cute, bitch.

(THEY ARGUE IN THE BACKGROUND. DURING ALL
THE ABOVE PRICE HAS BEEN CORRECTING PAPERS;
PLACIDLY TAKING IN ALL THE ACTION, HUMMING,
ENJOYING HIS GLASS OF CHEAP HOUSE WINE.
THE BLACK MAN'S GIRLFRIEND APPROACHES HIM,
NOW CURIOUSLY INTERESTED. MAN IN DRESS
HELPS MR. HYDE TO HIS FEET AND THEY DANCE.)

BLACK MAN'S GIRLFRIEND

Hey, Professer, let's dance! You know how to dance - ?

(PRICE WAVES HIS HANDS NEGATIVELY. SHE
GRABS HIS FINGERS.)

C'mon! Just pretend you doin' It!

(SHE PULLS HIM FROM THE TABLE BY HIS
FINGER. PRICE, SMILING LIKE A
THOUGHTFUL LEPRECHAUN, WITH HIS HANDS
DOWN ALONG HIS SIDES, BEGINS TO DANCE
SMALL STEPS.)

PRICE

I am. Pretending.

BLACK MAN'S GIRLFRIEND

Hey, wake up! You havin' fun. Think in
that deep white, census-takin' brain yours,
you doin' It, so bump it, funky man! Dump it!
Like dis, baeebbeeyy!

(SHE SHOWS HIM. HE TRIES TO IMITATE, BUT
OF COURSE DOES NOT SUCCEED. CLOSE SHOTS
OF PRICE DANCING. THE "..DON'T KNOW MUCH
ABOUT BIOLOGY, DON'T KNOW MUCH ABOUT
HISTORY..." SONG, OR AN APPROPRIATE
SUBSTITUTION, COMES ON AND
PRICE JOINS IN SINGING IT, HOLDING ALOOF
HIS FOREFINGERS, SPEARING THEM UP AND
DOWN. WITH PRICE AS THE FOCUS, PULL
BACK TO TAKE IN MORE OF THE WILD SCENE
AROUND HIM.)

FADE OUT