Nocturnal Submission: Freestanding Edition 226

WALKER Jesus H. Christ. (smiles) Fletch, this is the greatest.

FAT SAM He’s some reporter, this guy.

FLETCH I’m out, Frank. You lost faith in me.

WALKER Fletch, I got nervous. Please….

FLETCH Forget it.

Fletch takes off his robe and drops it to the floor. Beneath the robes he’s wearing cutoffs and a Bob McAdoo T-shirt.

FLETCH I’m going to write the story. Just hold the last couple of paragraphs till ten o’clock tonight.

Fletch leaves the office.

FLETCH (to Fat Sam and Gummy) Make yourselves comfortable, guys, but don’t leave the office.

243 CORRIDOR

Fletch heads for his office. Walker follows.

WALKER Fletch!

Fletch doesn’t answer.

244 FLETCH’S OFFICE

Fletch enters the office and kicks his door closed. Walker opens it.

WALKER Fletch, you want an apology?

FLETCH You were going to can me, right?

WALKER (fumbles) Not really.

FLETCH Not really?

WALKER I was upset.

FLETCH I’m sick of this place. I’m going to try out for the Lakers. They need a power forward.

WALKER Fletch.

Fletch sits down and turns on his word processor, ignoring Walker.

Prairie
Race 8 (9:42 p.m. EDT / 6:42 p.m. PDT): #1 Hide the Hooch

Thank you. Best wishes. Goodbye. Take care now.