FIGHT CLUB
By Jim Uhls
PG 1
SCREEN BLACK
JACK (V.O.)
People were always asking me, did I know Tyler Durden.
FADE IN:
INT. SOCIAL ROOM - TOP FLOOR OF HIGH-RISE - NIGHT
TYLER has the barrel of a HANDGUN lodged in JACK'S MOUTH. They
struggle intensely.
They are both around 30; Tyler is blond, handsome, eyes burning with
frightening intensity; and JACK, brunette, is appealing in a dry sort
of way. They are both sweating and disheveled; Jack seems to be losing
his will to fight.
TYLER
We won't really die. We'll be immortal.
JACK
oor -- ee-ee --uh -- aa-i --
JACK (V.O.)
With a gun barrel between your teeth, you speak only in vowels.
Jack tongues the barrel to the side of his mouth.
JACK (still distorted)
You're thinking of vampires.
Jack tries to get the gun. Tyler keeps control.
JACK (V.O.)
With my tongue, I can feel the silencer holes drilled into the barrel
of the gun. Most of the noise a gunshot makes is expanding gases. I
totally forgot about Tyler's whole murder-suicide thing for a second
and I wondered how clean the gun barrel was.
Tyler checks his watch.
TYLER
Three minutes.
Jack turns so that he can see down -- 71 STORIES.
PG 2
JACK (V.O.)
The building we're standing won't be here in three minutes. You take a
98-percent concentration of fuming nitric acid and add three times as
much sulfuric in a bathtub full of ice. Then, glycerin drop-by-drop.
Nitroglycerin. I know this because Tyler knows this.
Jack manages to SHOVE Tyler away. Then, he leaps onto him and they
fall onto a table, then roll off onto the floor. The gun falls and
slides. They wrestle with each other, then dash for the gun. Tyler
gets there first and grabs the gun. DURING THE ABOVE:
JACK (V.O.)
The Demolitions Committee of Project Mayhem wrapped the foundation
columns of this building with blasting gelatin. The primary charge
will blow the base charge, and this spot Tyler and I are standing on
will be a point in the sky.
Tyler drags Jack back to the glass wall and forces him to look out at
the city skyline.
TYLER
This is our world now. Two minutes.
JACK (V.O.)
Two minutes to go and I'm wondering how I got here.
MOVE IN ON JACK'S FACE.
SLOWLY PULL BACK from Jack's face. It's pressed against TWO LARGE
BREASTS that belong to ... BOB, a big moose of a man, around 35 years
old. Jack is engulfed by Bob's arms in an embrace. Bob weeps openly.
His shoulders inhale themselves up in a long draw, then drop, drop,
drop in jerking sobs. Jack gives Bob some squeezes in return, but his
face is stone.
JACK (V.O.)
Bob had bitch tits.
PG 3
PULL BACK TO WIDE ON
INT. HIGH SCHOOL GYMNASIUM - NIGHT
All the men are paired off, hugging each other, talking in emotional
tones. Some pairs lean forward, heads pressed ear-to-ear, the way
wrestlers stand, locked. Near the door a temporary sign on a stand:
"REMAINING MEN TOGETHER".
JACK (V.O.)
This was a support group for men with testicular cancer. The big
moosie slobbering all over me was Bob.
BOB
I owned my own gym. I did product endorsements.
JACK
You were a six-time champion.
JACK (V.O.)
Bob, the big cheesebread. Always told me his life story.
BOB
We're still men.
JACK
Yes. We're men. Men is what we are.
JACK (V.O.)
Bob cried. Six months ago, his testicles were removed. Then hormone
therapy. He developed bitch tits because his testosterone was too high
and his body upped the estrogen. That was where my head fit -- into
his sweating tits that hang enormous, the way we think of God's as big.
Bob hugs tighter, then looks with empathy into Jack's eyes.
BOB
Maybe it's just seminoma. With seminoma, you have a hundred percent
survival rate.
The Leader steps forward and signals everyone.
LEADER
Okay. Group hug.
PG 4
Everyone converges into a cluster with arms thrown around shoulders,
making a big mass of sobbing, smiling goodwill.
JACK (V.O.)
No. Wait. Back up. Let me start earlier.
INT. JACK'S BEDROOM - NIGHT
Jack lies in bed, staring at the ceiling. He hears VOICES from beyond
the wall. A FLY buzzes over his face. He swats at it, missing.
JACK (V.O.)
For six months. I couldn't sleep.
INT. DOCTOR'S OFFICE - DAY
Jack, eyes puffy, face pale, sits before the Doctor, who studies him
with bemusement.
DOCTOR
No, you can't die of insomnia.
JACK
Maybe I already died. Look at my face.
DOCTOR
You need to lighten up.
JACK
Can you give me something?
JACK (V.O.)
Little red-and-blue Tuinal, lipstick-red Seconals.
DOCTOR (overlapping w/ above)
You need healthy, natural sleep. Chew valerian root and get more
exercise.
The Doctor ushers Jack to the door. They step into the
INT. HALLWAY
Where the Doctor starts moving away from Jack, picking up a chart on a
door.
JACK
I'm in pain.
PG 5
DOCTOR (facetious)
You want to see pain? Swing by Meyer High on a Tuesday night and see
the guys with testicular cancer.
The Doctor moves into the other room. Jack stares after him somberly.
MOVE IN ON JACK'S FACE.
PULL BACK TO WIDE ON:
INT. HIGH SCHOOL GYMNASIUM - NIGHT
Jack stares at a group of men, including Bob, who are all listening to
a group member speak at a lectern. The speaker has death-white skin
and sunken eyes -- he's clearly dying.
SPEAKER
I ... wanted to have three kids. Two boys and a girl. Mindy wanted
two girls and one boy. We never agreed on anything.
The Speaker cracks a sad smile. Some men chuckle, happy to lighten the
mood.
SPEAKER
Well ... she had her first girl a month ago ... with her new husband.
Thank God, because she deserves ...
The speaker breaks down and WEEPS UNCONTROLLABLY. Jack is riveted. He
barely breathes. CUT TO:
INT. GYM - LATER
A Leader herds people into pairing-off.
LEADER
Find a partner.
Bob starts toward Jack, shuffling his feet. Jack watches him, still
moved by his experience, face full of intense empathy.
JACK (V.O.)
The big moosie, his eyes already shrink-wrapped in tears. Knees
together, invisible steps.
Bob takes Jack into an embrace.
JACK (V.O.)
He pancaked down on top of me.
PG 6
BOB
Two grown kids ... and they won't return my calls.
JACK (V.O.)
Strangers with this kind of honesty make me go a big rubbery one.
Jack's face is rapt and sincere. Bob stops talking and breaks into
sobbing, putting his head down on Jack's shoulder and completely
covering Jack's face.
JACK (V.O.)
Then, I was lost in oblivion -- dark and silent and complete.
Jack's body begins to jerk in sobs. He tightens his arms around Bob.
JACK (V.O.)
This was freedom. Losing all hope was freedom.
Jack pulls back from Bob. On Bob's chest, there's a WET MASK of Jack's
face from how he looked weeping.
JACK (V.O.)
Babies don't sleep this well.
INT. JACKS' BEDROOM - NIGHT
Jack lies sound asleep.
JACK (V.O.)
I became addicted.
INT. SMALL PROTESTANT CHURCH - NIGHT
Jack moves into a "group hug" of sickly people, men and women. In view
is a sign by the door "Free and Clear".
JACK (V.O.)
I felt more alive than I've ever felt.
INT. OFFICE BUILDING BASEMENT - NIGHT
Jack pulls back from a group hug of more sickly people. They pair-off.
Jack stands with a weeping middle-aged WOMAN. He gingerly takes her in
his arms, pats her back. He begins to cry along with her. In view is
a sign by the door: "Onward and Upward".
PG 7
JACK (V.O.)
If I didn't say anything, people assumed the worst. They cried harder.
I cried harder.
INT. CATHOLIC CATHEDRAL - NIGHT
Jack is in an embrace with a YOUNG MAN. They are both weeping.
JACK (V.O.)
I wasn't really dying. I wasn't host to cancer or parasites; no, I was
the warm little center that the life of this world crowded around.
INT. PUBLIC BUILDING CONFERENCE ROOM - NIGHT
Everyone settles in their seats and a Leader takes the microphone.
LEADER
Okay, everyone, close your eyes. Imagine your pain as a white ball of
healing light. Go down your secret path to your cave and join up with
your power animal.
EXT. ENTRANCE OF CAVE (JACK'S IMAGINATION)
Jack walks up to the entrance and out comes a PENGUIN. The penguin
looks at him, smiles.
PENGUIN
Slide.
EXT. STREET - NIGHT
Jack walks out of a doorway, saying goodbye to people. He walks down
the sidewalk, his face shining with peace.
JACK (V.O.)
Every evening I died and every evening I was born. Resurrected.
CUT BACK TO:
PG 8
INT. HIGH SCHOOL GYMNASIUM - *RESUMING*
Jack still hanging in an embrace with Bob.
JACK (V.O.)
Bob loved me because he thought my testicles were removed, too. Being
there, my face against his tits, getting ready to cry -- this was my
vacation.
MARLA SINGER enters. She has short matte black hair and big, dark eyes
like a character from Japanese animation.
MARLA
This is cancer, right?
She raises a cigarette to her lips. The men gape at her, dumbfounded.
JACK (V.O.)
And *she* ruined everything.
CUT TO:
INT. HIGH SCHOOL GYMNASIUM - LATER
Everyone paired-off. MOVE THROUGH ROOM and catch snippets of
intimate, painful CONVERSATION.
FIND JACK'S FACE as it stares, over Bob's shoulder, eyes full of deep
hostility.
JACK (V.O.)
Liar. Faker. Liar.
MOVE THROUGH ROOM, hearing more CONVERSATION.
FIND MARLA'S FACE, over the shoulder of a MAN she's being embraced by,
SMOKING, blowing smoke rings.
JACK (V.O.)
This ... chick ... Marla Singer... did not have testicular cancer. She
had no diseases. She was a liar. I saw her at "We Shall Overcome," my
melanoma group Monday night ...
INT. SMALL PROTESTANT CHURCH - NIGHT
Marla sits with the group, smoking, while a member speaks. Jack glares
at her.
PG 9
INT. CATHOLIC CATHEDRAL - NIGHT
Everyone sits with eyes closed while a speaker takes them through a
meditation. Various COUGHING around the room. Jack's eyes open and he
glares at Marla. Her eyes are closed and she's smoking a cigarette.
JACK (V.O.)
... at "Seize The Day," my tuberculosis group Friday night.
CUT BACK TO:
INT. HIGH SCHOOL GYMNASIUM - RESUMING
Jack continues to glare at Marla. Her eyes briefly catch his, then
roll. Another puff of the cigarette.
JACK (V.O.)
Marla -- the big tourist. The faker. With her there, I was a faker,
too. Her lie reflected my lie. And all of a sudden, I felt nothing.
With her there, I couldn't cry.
INT. JACK'S BEDROOM - NIGHT
Jack, fully clothed, lies on top of his bed, holding a cordless phone
to his ear. He stares at the ceiling and swats at a fly.
JACK (V.O.)
So, once again, I couldn't sleep.
Jack hears something on the phone. He sits up.
JACK
I've been holding for thirty minutes.
Spread all over the floor by Jack's feet are INVOICES for CREDIT CARDS.
JACK
Yes, that's right. Yes, but I transferred part of my balance to my
Visa to get the lower rate. Oh, wait. No, it wasn't your Visa. Okay,
I transferred all of the MasterCard ... to ... (MORE)
PG 10
JACK (CONT'D)
Look, can I just come down in person? I live here -- in Wilmington.
Yes, all my credit cards have main headquarters here. No? Why not?
Why can't I speak to an account rep? No, wait, don't put me on --
Jack reacts to being put on hold.
INT. BATHROOM - MOMENTS LATER
Jack sits on the toilet. He digs through a magazine rack. IKEA
catalogues, Pottery Barn catalogues and more of the kind. Jack opens
an IKEA catalog and flips through it.
JACK (V.O.)
I had become a slave to the IKEA nesting instinct. If I saw something
like the clever Njurunda coffee tables in the shape of a lime green Yin
and an orange Yang --
Move in on PHOTO of the tables. CUT TO:
INT. JACK'S LIVING ROOM - NIGHT
Completely EMPTY.
JACK (V.O.)
I had to have it.
The Njurunda tables APPEAR.
INSERT - PHOTO OF SOFAS
JACK (V.O.)
The Haparanda sofa group ...
INT. JACK'S LIVING ROOM - NIGHT
The sofa group APPEARS.
JACK (V.O.)
... with the orange slip covers by Erika Pekkari. The Johanneshov
armchair in the Strinne green stripe pattern.
The armchair APPEARS.
PG 11
JACK (V.O.)
The Rislampa/Har lamps from wire and environmentally-friendly
unbleached paper.
The lamp APPEARS.
JACK (V.O.)
The Vild hall clock of galvanized steel.
The clock APPEARS.
JACK (V.O.)
The Klipsk shelving unit.
The shelving unit APPEARS.
INT. BATHROOM - RESUMING
Jack flips the page of the catalogue to reveal a full-page photo of an
entire kitchen and dining room set.
JACK (V.O.)
I would flip and wonder, "What kind of dining room set *defines* me as
a person?"
Jack drops the catalog down, open to this spread. PAN OVER to the
magazine stack -- there's an old, tattered PLAYBOY.
JACK (V.O.)
It used to be Playboys; now -- IKEA.
INT. JACK'S KITCHEN AND DINING ROOM - CONTINUOUS
-- Looking exactly like the photo in the catalogue. Jack walks in with
the cordless phone still glued to his ear.
JACK
I want to transfer my balance to get a lower interest rate.
Jack looks over the whole kitchen, dining room, and the living room
beyond.
JACK (V.O.)
The things you own, they end up owning you.
Jack opens a cabinet, takes out a plate.
PG 12
JACK (V.O.)
My hand-blown green glass dishes with the tiny bubbles and
imperfections, proof they were crafted by the honest, simple,
hard-working indigenous peoples of wherever.
He rummages through the refrigerator. It's practically empty. Jack
takes out a jar of mustard, opens it and uses a butter knife to eat it.
INT. BEDROOM - LATER
Jack lies on the bed, phone still at his ear.
JACK
I want to talk to a live person.
Jack reacts, listens, impatiently punches a single number; waits,
listens, punches another single number; listens. He rolls over, looks
at one of the bills on the floor and punches an entire credit card
number.
JACK (V.O.)
Next support group, after guided meditation, the white healing ball of
light, after we open our chakras, when it comes time to hug, I'm going
to grab that little bitch, Marla Singer, squeeze her arms down against
her sides and say ...
JACK
Marla, you liar, you big tourist. Get out.
Jack yawns, rubs his eyes. They stay wide open. He punches another
number into the phone. He sees a LEVITATING, STEAMING Starbucks paper
coffee cup move from side to side in front of his face.
INT. COPY ROOM - DAY
Jack stands over a copy machine. The Starbucks cup sits on the lid,
moving back and forth as the machine makes copies.
JACK (V.O.)
With insomnia, nothing is real. Everything is far away. Everything is
a copy of a copy of a copy.
Other people make copies, all with Starbucks cups, sipping.
PG 13
INT. OFFICE AREA - DAY
Floor-to-ceiling glass instead of walls. Industrial low-pile gray
carpet. Walls of upholstered plywood. There are four small offices
connected by a hallway to one large office.
INT. JACK'S OFFICE - SAME
Jack, sipping from a Starbucks cup, stares blankly at his Starbucks bag
on the floor, full of newspapers.
JACK (V.O.)
When deep space exploitation ramps up, it will be corporations that
name everything. The IBM Stellar Sphere. The Philip Morris Galaxy.
Planet Starbucks.
Jack looks up as a pudgy MAN in his late thirties, enters. Starbucks
cup in hand, pulls up a chair, and slides a stack of reports on Jack's
desk. He pats Jack's back in a superficially-friendly way.
PUDGY MAN
I'm going to need you out-of-town a little more this week. We've got
some "red-flags" to cover.
JACK (V.O.)
It must've been Tuesday. My Boss was wearing his cornflower-blue tie.
JACK (listless "management-speak")
You want me to de-prioritize my current reports until you advise of a
status upgrade?
PUDGY MAN - "BOSS"
You need to make these your primary "action items".
JACK (V.O.)
He was full of pep. Must've had his latte enema.
BOSS
Here's your flight coupons. Call me from the road if there's any
snags. Your itinerary ...
Jack hides a yawn and pretends to listen.
PG 14
JACK (V.O.)
When you have insomnia, you're never really awake and you're never
really asleep, either.
INT. SMALL PROTESTANT CHURCH - NIGHT
Jack walks in and joins the crowd.
LEADER
Okay, everyone. Chloe.
Jack catches sight of Marla, scowls at her. Taking the lectern is
CHLOE, a pale, sickly girl whose skin stretches yellowish and tight
around her bones. She wears a head bandage. OVER the beginning of her
SPEECH:
JACK (V.O.)
Chloe looked the way Joni Mitchell's skeleton would look if you made it
smile and walk around a party being extra nice to everyone.
CHLOE
My status update is ... I'm still here -- but I don't know for how
long. That's as much certainty as they can give me. I'm in a pretty
lonely place. No one will have sex with me. I'm so close to death and
all I want is to get laid for the last time. I have pornographic
movies in my apartment, and lubricants and amyl nitrate ...
The LEADER hardly knows what to do. He inches his way to the lectern,
and gingerly takes control of the microphone.
LEADER
Thank you, Chloe. Everyone, close your eyes for meditation. Go to
your cave and find your power animal.
EXT. ENTRANCE OF CAVE (JACK'S IMAGINATION)
Jack walks up to the entrance and finds MARLA -- smoking a cigarette
blowing smoke into his face, rolling her eyes in condescension.
MARLA
Slide.
PG 15
INT. CHRUCH - RESUMING
Jack's eyes snap open and turn to Marla. He glowers, watching her
smoke with her eyes closed.
INT. CHURCH - LATER
The Leader, smiling opens his eyes and looks around the group.
LEADER
Good. Now. Pair off for the one-on-one. Pick someone special to you
tonight.
Everyone stands and mills about, slowly pairing-off. Jack sees the
ghastly spectre of Chloe coming towards him. He smiles at her. She
smiles back; it takes her some time to amble to him.
CHLOE
Hello, Cornelius.
JACK (V.O.)
I never gave my real name at support groups.
CHLOE
I'm showing signs of improvement.
JACK (V.O.)
Everyone was always getting better. They never said "parasite"; they
said "agent".
She smiles at him with a twisted, dying mouth. Her eyes eerily bright
with desperation. Jack's lip trembles as he, in a sincere attempt at
levity, chokes out:
JACK
You ... look ... like a pirate.
Chloe laughs, a little too much. Jack squeezes out a laugh. Then, he
sees Marla, off by herself. Someone is heading for her. Most people
have paired-off. Jack gives a quick nod to Chloe and darts for Marla,
grabbing her. Chloe watches in sad surprise.
STAY ON JACK AND MARLA as he drags her off to the periphery. He
whispers into her ear.
JACK
We need to talk.
PG 16
MARLA
O - *kay*. Sure.
JACK
You're a faker. You aren't dying. Okay, in the brainy brain-food
philosophy way, we're all dying. But you're not dying the way Chloe is
dying.
LEADER
Tell the other person how you feel.
MARLA
You're not dying, either ...
(reading his nametag)
... *Cornelius*.
LEADER
Share yourself completely.
JACK
These are my groups. I found them!
MARLA
I saw you practicing this.
JACK
What?
MARLA
-- Telling me off. Is it going as well as you thought it would?
JACK
I'll expose you!
MARLA
Go ahead.
MEDIATOR
Let yourself cry.
Marla puts her head down on Jack's shoulder as if she were crying.
Jack pulls her head back up. She deadpans at him.
JACK
I've put in some serious time on these groups -- I've been coming for a
year.
MARLA
Must've been tough to pull off.
PG 17
JACK
Anyone who might've noticed me in that time has either died or
recovered and never come back.
MARLA
Why do you do it?
JACK
Why do you?
No answer. The Leader passes right by Jack and Marla.
LEADER
Open up. share with each other.
JACK
... If people think you're dying, they really listen, instead of just
waiting for their turn to speak. Everything else about credit card
debts and sad radio songs and thinning hair goes out the window.
MARLA
It started with a lump. I went to a breast cancer support group. The
lump turned out benign. But I still needed my Monday fix. So, I went
to lymphoma, just to check it out. Dying people are so *alive*.
JACK
It becomes an addiction.
MARLA
Yeah ...
Jack almost smiles, then turns sullen. He pulls back from her.
LEADER
Now, the closing prayer.
JACK
Look, I can't go to a group with a faker present.
Marla's mood hardens.
MARLA
Well, I can't either.
LEADER
Oh, bless us and hold us ...
PG 18
JACK
We'll split up the week.
Marla starts out of the room. Jack follows her.
LEADER
... help us and help us.
EXT. CHURCH - NIGHT - CONTINUOUS
Marla gets to the sidewalk, moving quickly along.
JACK
You can have lymphoma, tuberculosis and --
MARLA
No, you take tuberculosis. My smoking doesn't go over well.
JACK
I think testicular cancer should be no contest.
MARLA
You have your balls, don't you? Technically, *I* have more of a right
to be there than you.
JACK
You're kidding.
MARLA
I don't know -- am I?
Jack follows Marla into
INT. LAUNDROMAT - CONTINUOUS
As she walks with authority up to an unwatched DRYER. She takes out
all the clothes, sets them on a table and sorts through them, picking
out jeans, pants and shirts.
MARLA
I'll take the parasites.
JACK
You can't have *both* parasites. You take blood parasites and --
MARLA
I want brain parasites.
She opens another dryer and does the same thing again.
PG 19
JACK
Okay. I'll take blood parasites and I'll take organic brain dementia
and --
MARLA
I want that.
JACK
You can't have the whole brain!
MARLA
So far, you have four and I have two!
JACK
Well, then, take blood parasites. Now, we each have three.
Marla gathers up all the chosen garments and heads back for the door.
She whooshes past Jack.
EXT. SIDEWALK - CONTINUOUS
Jack follows, bewildered.
JACK
You left half your clothes.
HONK! Jack starts. Marla's led him into the street with traffic
barreling down. She defiantly stomps in front of the cars, which
screech to a halt and blare their horns. Jack dashes across. Marla
heads into a THRIFT STORE. Jack follows.
INT. THRIFT STORE - CONTINUOUS
Marla drops all the clothes on a back counter. An old CLERK sifts
through the clothes, marks on a pad.
JACK
What are you doing? You're selling those clothes?
Marla steps down hard on Jack's foot. He jerks, wincing in pain.
MARLA (for the Clerk to hear)
Yes, I'm selling some clothes.
The Clerk starts to ring up the various amounts he's assessed.
PG 20
MARLA
So, we each have three -- that's six. What about the seventh day? I
want ascending bowel cancer.
JACK (V.O.)
The girl had done her homework.
JACK
*I* want ascending bowel cancer.
The Clerk gives Marla and Jack a strange look as he hands over money to
Marla.
MARLA
That's your favorite, too? Tried to slip it by me, huh?
JACK
We'll split it. You get it the first and third Sunday of the month.
MARLA
Deal.
They shake hands. Jack starts to withdraw his; Marla holds it.
MARLA
I guess this is goodbye.
JACK
Let's not make a big deal out of this.
She walks toward the door. Jack watches her go.
MARLA (not looking back)
How's this for not making a big deal?
EXT. SIDEWALK - CONTINUOUS
Jack dashes out and catches up to her.
JACK
Uh, Marla. Should we exchange phone numbers?
MARLA
Should we?
JACK
In case we want to switch nights.
PG 21
MARLA
Uh-hunh. Sure.
He takes out a business card and a pen. He writes his home number on
the back and hands it to her. She takes his pen, grabs his hand and
writes her number on his palm. She gives him a quick grin, slaps the
pen back into his palm, then saunters out into the middle of the
street, causing more screeching of tires and honking. She turns back,
holding up the card.
MARLA
It doesn't have your name on it. Who are you? Cornelius? Any of the
stupid names you give at group?
Jack starts to yell, but the traffic noise is too loud. Marla just
shakes her head at him, turns, and keeps moving away. A bus moves into
view and stops, obscuring her.
JACK (V.O.)
Marla's philosophy of life, I later found out, was that she could die
at any moment. The tragedy of her life was that she didn't.
INT. AIRPLANE CABIN - DAY
As the plane touches down for landing and the cabin BUMPS, Jack's eyes
pop open.
JACK (V.O.)
You wake up at O'Hare.
INT. AIRPLANE CABIN - DAY
Jack snaps awake again, looking around, disoriented.
JACK (V.O.)
You wake up at SeaTac.
EXT. HIGHWAY - DUSK
The rear end of a car is visible sticking up by the side of the road.
Jack stands near the car, marking on a document. The SUN SETS behind
him.
INT. AIRPORT - NIGHT
Jack walks up to a gate counter. An ATTENDANT smiles at him.
ATTENDANT
Check-in for that flight doesn't begin for another two hours, Sir.
PG 22
Jack looks at his watch, steps away and looks at an overhanging clock.
His eyes are bleary as he reads it, adjusts his watch.
JACK (V.O.)
Pacific, Mountain, Central. You lose an hour, you gain an hour. This
is your life, and it's ending one minute at a time.
INT. AIRPLANE CABIN - DAY
Jack's eyes snap open as the plane LANDS.
JACK (V.O.)
You wake up at Air Harbor International.
INT. AIRPORT WALKWAY
Jack stands on a conveyor belt, briefcase at his feet, moving slowly
with the flow of the belt. His tired eyes watch people on the opposite
conveyor belt, moving past him.
JACK (V.O.)
If you wake up at a different time and a different place, can you be a
different person?
Jack's eyes catch sight of TYLER -- who we recognize from the opening
sequence -- on the opposite conveyor belt. They pass each other.
INT. AIRPLANE CABIN - IN FLIGHT - NIGHT
Jack sits next to a BUSINESSMAN. As they have idle CONVERSATION, we
MOVE IN ON Jack's fold-out tray.
An ATTENDANT'S HANDS set coffee down with a small packet of sugar and a
small container of cream.
JACK (V.O.)
The charm of traveling is: everywhere I go -- tiny life.
Single-serving sugar, single-serving cream.
CUT TO: The hands place a plastic dinner tray down. Jack opens the
various containers.
JACK (V.O.)
Single-serving butter, single-serving salt. Single-serving cordon
blue.
PG 23
INT. HOTEL ROOM - BATHROOM - NIGHT
Jack brushes his teeth.
JACK (V.O.)
Single-use toothbrush. Single-serving mouthwash, single serving soap.
Jack picks up an individual, wrapped Q-TIP, looks at it. He moves out
of the bathroom into
MAIN AREA
And sits on the bed. He turns on the television. It's tuned to the
"Sheraton Channel" and shows WAITERS serving people in a large BANQUET
ROOM. Jack stops brushing his teeth, feels something near him on the
bed, finds it, lifts it. It's a small MINT.
INT. AIRPLANE CABIN - IN FLIGHT - NIGHT
Jack sits next to a frumpy WOMAN and they chat. Jack turns to look at
his food and takes a bite. He turns back and it's
-- a BALD MAN sitting next to him, talking. He takes another bite,
turns back and it's
-- a BUSINESSMAN sitting next to him. He takes another bite, turns
back, and it's
-- a BUSINESS WOMAN sitting next to him.
JACK (V.O.)
The people I meet on each flight -- they're single-serving *friends*.
Between take-off and landing, we have our time together, then we never
see each other again.
INT. AIRPLANE CABIN - LANDING
Jack's eyes snap open.
JACK (V.O.)
You wake up at Logan.
EXT. CONCRETE LOT - DAY
Surrounded by cinderblock walls. Two TECHNICIANS in uniform lead Jack
to a WAREHOUSE door. They open it, revealing a BURNT-OUT SHELL of a
WRECKED AUTOMOBILE. They move into the
PG 24
INT. WAREHOUSE - CONTINUOUS
And Jack sets down his briefcase, opens it, and starts to make notes on
a FORM.
JACK (V.O.)
I'm a recall coordinator. My job was to apply the formula. It's
simple arithmetic.
TECHNICIAN #1
Here's where the baby went through the window. Three points.
JACK (V.O.)
It's a story problem. A new car built by my company leaves Boston
traveling at 60 miles per hour. The rear differential locks up.
TECHNICIAN #2
The teenager's braces locked around the backseat ashtray. Kind makes a
good "anti-smoking" ad.
JACK (V.O.)
The car crashes and burns with everyone trapped inside. Now: do we
initiate a recall?
TECHNICIAN #1
The father must've been obese. See how the fat burned into the
driver's seat, mixed with the dye of his shirt? Kind like modern art.
JACK (V.O.)
You take the number of vehicles in the field (A) and multiply it by the
probable rate of failure (B), multiply the result by the average
out-of-court settlement (C). A times B times C equals X. If X is less
than the cost of a recall, we don't do one.
INT. AIRPLANE CABIN - TAKING OFF - NIGHT
Next to Jack, a chubby, middle-aged LADY gawks at him, appalled.
LADY
... Which ... car company do you work for?
PG 25
JACK
A major one.
LADY
Oh.
Jack turns his attention to the window as the PLANE ASCENDS. The
lady's VOICE FADES. Jack sees a PELICAN get SUCKED into the TURBINE.
His face remains bland during the following:
The plane BUCKLES -- the cabin wobbles loosely. People begin to panic.
Oxygen masks fall.
JACK (V.O.)
Life insurance pays off triple if you die on a business trip.
A forceful IMPACT with the ground and people -- except for Jack --
LURCH FORWARD, some jerking against their seatbelts, magazines and
other objects fly forward.
JACK (V.O.)
No more expense accounts, receipt required for over twenty-five
dollars.
A BALL OF FIRE swoops forward from the rear of the cabin and
INCINERATES EVERYTHING AND EVERYBODY -- except Jack, who remains in his
same position in his seat, with the bland expression.
JACK (V.O.)
No more haircuts. Nothing matters, not even bad breath.
DING! -- the seatbelt light goes OUT.
*EVERYTHING IS NORMAL*.
JACK (V.O.)
Always the same fantasy. But -- no such luck.
Jack's eyes are closed. He seems asleep. From next to him, a VOICE
we've heard before.
VOICE
There are three ways to make napalm. One, mix equal parts of gasoline
and frozen orange juice.
PG 26
Jack's eyes snap open and he turns to see *Tyler*, who is staring out
the window. Without turning to Jack, he continues:
TYLER
Two, mix equal parts of gasoline and diet cola. Three, dissolve
crumbled cat litter in gasoline until the mixture is thick.
Jack's smile fades. Tyler turns to him and grins. He reaches down
under the seat in front of him and pulls up a briefcase. Jack looks at
it with trepidation.
JACK (V.O.)
This is how I met --
Tyler offers his hand, Jack takes it and Tyler squeezes firmly and
shakes hands.
TYLER
Tyler Durden. You know why they have oxygen masks on planes?
JACK
Supply oxygen?
TYLER
That's a sharp answer. The oxygen gets you high. You're taking in
giant, panicked breaths and, suddenly, you become euphoric and docile,
and you accept your fate.
Tyler grabs a safety instruction card from the seat pocket and shows
Jack the passive faces on the drawn figures. Tyler imitates the face.
Jack laughs; he is completely beguiled.
JACK
What do you do, Tyler?
TYLER
What do you want me to do?
JACK
I mean -- for a living.
TYLER
Why? So you can say, "Oh, *that's* what you do." -- And be a smug
little shit about it?
Jack laughs. He points to his own briefcase, under the seat in front
of him.
PG 27
JACK
We have the same briefcase.
Tyler pops the latches on his briefcase. A beat, while Jack's
expression turns nervous again about what's inside. Tyler swings the
lid up, revealing a full bounty of quaintly-wrapped bars of soap.
TYLER
I make and sell soap.
He gives Jack one. Jack takes it, looks it over.
TYLER
If you add nitric acid to the soap-making process, you get
nitroglycerin. With enough soap, you could blow up the world.
Jack now looks at the bar of soap nervously. He looks at Tyler, slowly
smiles and shakes his head.
Tyler takes out a blank BOARDING PASS. He takes out a small stencil,
scrapes a pencil over it, creating a seat number which looks printed.
Then, he takes out a stamp and ink pad. He stamps the pass.
JACK
Uh ... why are you going to Wilmington?
TYLER
I live there.
JACK
Me, too.
Tyler shuts his briefcase and stands.
TYLER
Excuse me.
Jack stands, allowing Tyler to pass into the aisle.
JACK
So, uh ... we should hook up sometime.
Jack hands Tyler a business card. Tyler snatches it, writes down a
number, hands it back to Jack.
JACK
Tyler, you're by far the most interesting "single-serving" friend I've
ever met.
PG 28
A beat as Tyler stares at him, deadpan. Jack, enjoying his own chance
to be witty, leans a bit closer to Tyler.
JACK
You see, when you travel, everything is --
TYLER
I grasp the concept. You're very clever.
JACK
Thank you.
TYLER
How's that working out for you? -- Being clever.
JACK (thrown off)
Well, uh ... uh ... great.
TYLER
Keep it up, then. Keep it right up.
Jack sits and watches Tyler walk up to the curtain dividing First
Class. Tyler show the bogus boarding pass to an ATTENDANT, who leads
him through the curtain.
INT. BAGGAGE CLAIM AREA - WILMINGTON - NIGHT
Utterly empty of baggage, and, except for Jack and a SECURITY TASK
FORCE MAN, utterly empty of people; quiet. The Security TFM, smirking,
holds a receiver to his ear from an official phone on the wall.
SECURITY TFM (to Jack)
Throwers don't worry about ticking. Modern bombs don't tick.
JACK
Throwers?
SECURITY TFM
Baggage handlers. But when a suitcase vibrates, the throwers have to
call the police.
JACK
My suitcase was *vibrating*?
PG 29
SECURITY TFM
Nine times out of ten, it's an electric razor. One out of ten, it's a
dildo. Sometimes it's even a *man*. It's airline policy not to imply
ownership in the event of a dildo. We gotta use the indefinite
article: "*A* dildo". Never "*Your* dildo".
JACK (V.O.)
I had everything in that bag. Six white shirts, two black trousers,
six pair underwear, alarm clock, contact lens stuff, and ... cordless
electric razor.
SECURITY TFM (into phone)
Yeah? Oh, fuck, now a recording.
The Security TFM punches a few code numbers into the phone, waits. CUT
TO:
EXT. EMPTY RUNWAY - NIGHT
A solitary SUITCASE sits on the concrete.
KABOM! The suitcase explodes. CUT TO:
INT. BAGGAGE CLAIM AREA - RESUMING
The Security TFM still on hold, entertains Jack.
SECURITY TFM (to Jack)
You know the industry slang for "flight attendant"? "Air Mattress".
(into phone)
Yeah? Really?
The Security TFM, turns to Jack, shakes his head, hangs up the phone;
shrugs.
EXT. AIRPORT DRIVE - MOMENTS LATER
Jack waits by the curb as a TAXI approaches.
JACK (V.O.)
Things could be worse. A spider could lay eggs under the skin in your
face and the larva could tunnel around and baby spiders could burst
from your nostrils.
PG 30
INT. TAXI - MOVING - NIGHT
Along a residential street. Jack looks ahead, sees a tall grey, bland
building on the corner.
JACK (V.O.)
Home was a condo on the fifteenth floor of a filing cabinet for widows
and young professionals.
The taxi approaches the intersection.
JACK (V.O.)
The walls were solid concrete. A foot of concrete is important when
your next-door neighbor lets her hearing aid go and has to watch game
shows at full blast ...
The taxi turns a corner and Jack sees the front of the building. A
diffuse CLOUD of SMOKE wafts away from a BLOWN-OUT SECTION on the
fifteenth floor. FIRETRUCKS, POLICECARS and a MOB are all crowded
around the lobby area.
JACK (V.O.)
-- Or when a volcanic blast of burning gas and debris that used to be
your furniture and personal effects blows out your floor-to-ceiling
window and sails down flaming to leave just your condo -- only yours --
a gutted, charred concrete hole in the cliffside of the building.
EXT. STREET IN FRONT OF BUILDING
Jack, gaping at the sight above him, absently gives the Cabbie money.
The taxi pulls away. Jack stands frozen.
JACK (V.O.)
These things happen.
Jack starts toward the building. He enters the fray of people, pushes
through to the lobby. The DOORMAN sees him, gives a sad smile, shakes
his head. Jack starts for the elevator.
DOORMAN
There's nothing up there.
Jack presses the button; waits. The Doorman moves next to him.
PG 31
DOORMAN
You can't go into the unit. Police orders. They're investigating for
arson.
The elevator doors open. Jack hesitates. The doors close.
DOORMAN
Do you have someone you can call?
Jack heads back for the lobby doors. The Doorman follows.
EXT. CONDO BUILDING - CONTINUOUS
Jack walks past SMOKING, CHARRED DEBRIS -- a flash of ORANGE from the
Yang table, a CLOCK FACE from the hall clock, part of an arm from the
GREEN ARMCHAIR. His feet CRUNCH glass. He gets to a payphone. The
Doorman stays right with him, watching him. CUT TO:
CLOSE SHOT - JACK'S STOVE
Hissing.
JACK (V.O.)
Later, the police told me someone could've turned the pilot light off,
turned a burner on.
EXT. PAYPHONE - RESUMING
Jack picks up the receiver, stares at the numbers on the phone.
DOORMAN
A lot of young people try to impress the world and buy too many things.
CLOSE SHOT - JACK'S ENTIRE CONDO - KITCHEN AND LIVING ROOM
Sound of the HISS.
JACK (V.O.)
The gas then could have slowly filled the condo from floor to ceiling
in every room. Seventeen-hundred square feet with high ceilings for
days and days.
PG 32
EXT. PAYPHONE - RESUMING
Jack's fingers move over the numbers lightly, as he thinks.
DOORMAN
A lot of young people don't know what they really want.
INSERT - CLOSE ON BASE OF JACK'S REFRIGERATOR
JACK (V.O.)
Then, the refrigerator's compressor clicked on.
Click. KABLAM! SCREEN GOES WHITE.
EXT. PAYPHONE - RESUMING
Jack digs into his pocket, pulls out his business card, turns it over
-- sees the number Tyler wrote. He dials it. Its rings ... and rings.
He waits.
JACK (V.O.)
Tyler Durden. Rescue me.
DOORMAN
Young people think they want the whole world.
JACK (V.O.)
Deliver me from Swedish furniture. Deliver me from clever art.
DOORMAN
If you don't know what you want, you end up with a lot you don't.
JACK (V.O.)
May I never be content. May I never be complete. May I never be
perfect. Deliver me.
Jack sighs and hands up the phone. He starts to push past the Doorman
when the phone RINGS. Jack grabs it.
JACK
Hello?
TYLER'S VOICE
Who's this?
JACK
Tyler?
PG 33
EXT. LOU'S TAVERN - NIGHT
A small building, sitting squarely in the middle of a large concrete
parking lot. A few street lamps illuminate the lot. a freeway runs
nearby.
INT. LOU'S TAVERN - SAME
Jack and Tyler sit at a table in the very back of the room. A
half-empty pitcher of beer shows dried foam scum from the previous
refill.
Five DRUNKEN GUYS at a table at the opposite side of the bar keep
glancing over and chuckling in a potentially hostile manner.
TYLER
You buy furniture. You tell yourself, this is the last sofa you'll
ever need in your life; no matter what else goes wrong, you've got the
sofa issue handled. Then the right set of dishes. Then the right bed.
The drapes. The rug. This is how you're good to yourself. This is
how you fill up your life.
JACK
I ... guess so.
TYLER
And now your condo blows up and you have nothing.
JACK
I ... guess so.
TYLER
And now you find yourself, sitting here, feeling like it's the best
thing that ever happened to you.
JACK
... yeah.
TYLER
I don't know you, so maybe I'm wrong. Maybe it's a terrible fucking
tragedy.
JACK
... no.
PG 34
TYLER
I mean, you lost a lot of nice, perfect, neat little shit.
JACK
Fuck it all.
TYLER
Wow. That's pretty strong.
JACK
... yeah.
TYLER
Do you have family you can call?
JACK
My mother would just go into hysterics. My Dad ... Don't know where
he is. Only knew him for six years. Then, he ran off to a new city
and married another woman and had more kids. Every six years -- new
city, new family. He was setting up franchises.
Tyler smiles, snorts, shakes his head.
TYLER
A generation of men raised by women. Look what it's done to you.
JACK
To me?
TYLER
We're on our third pitcher of beer and you still can't ask me.
JACK
Huh?
TYLER
Why don't you cut the shit and ask me if you can stay at my place?
JACK
Well ... uh ...
TYLER
Why don't you cut the shit and ask me if you can stay at my place?
JACK
Would that be a problem?
PG 35
TYLER
Is it a problem for you to ask me?
JACK
Can I stay at your place?
TYLER
Yeah.
JACK
Thanks.
TYLER
-- If you do me one favor.
JACK
What's that?
TYLER
I want you to hit me as hard as you can.
*FREEZE PICTURE*
JACK (V.O.)
Let me tell you a little bit about Tyler Durden.
EXTREME CLOSE-UP - FILM FRAME
--And we can see it's a PENIS.
INT. PROJECTIONIST ROOM - THEATRE - NIGHT
Jack, in the foreground, FACES CAMERA. In the BACKGROUND, Tyler sits
at a bench, looking at individual FRAMES that have been cut out of
movies. Near him, the PROJECTOR rolls a film.
JACK
Tyler works some nights as a projectionist. A film doesn't come in one
big reel ...
Tyler speaks to Jack normally, not to the camera.
TYLER
In an old theatre, two projectors are used. I have to change
projectors at the exact second so the audience never sees the break
when one reel starts and one reel runs out. You can see two dots on
screen at the end of a reel -- this is the warning.
PG 36
JACK
He splices single frames of genitalia from porno movies into family
films.
TYLER
One-twenty-forth of a second. That's how long the penis flashes up
there. Towering, slippery, red and terrible, and no one knows they've
seen it.
Jack and Tyler watch the audience of PARENTS and CHILDREN as an ANIMAL
adventure MOVIE plays. Suddenly, children start becoming uncomfortable
and squirming. Some start CRYING. Some THROW UP.
JACK
Tyler also worked as a ...
INT. LARGE BANQUET HALL - NIGHT
Tyler moves the cart around one of many tables, ladling out soup.
Jack stands in the same position. FACING CAMERA.
JACK
... banquet waiter at the luxurious Pressman Hotel.
The GUESTS are dressed in resplendent clothes, reeking of wealth and
privilege. They command the WAITERS with snaps of the finger.
Complaints pop like gunshots. The stiff-necked CATERING MANAGER
contemptuously hawk-eyes the waiters. It's hellish.
INT. SERVICE ELEVATOR - NIGHT
Jack turns and WE PAN to Tyler, standing by a CART with a giant SOUP
TUREEN and bowls. His hands are at his open fly and he's in position
to piss into the soup.
TYLER
Don't watch. I can't if you watch me.
CAMERA PANS to original position as Jack continues TO CAMERA.
JACK
He was a guerrilla terrorist of the food service industry.
TYLER (O.S.)
Shit. I can't go.
PG 37
After a beat, the sound of WATER SPLASHING the floor. Jack peeks and
sees Tyler pouring out a water glass with one hand, the other hand at
his crotch.
TYLER
... Oh, yeah. *Oh*, yeah.
Jack turns back TO CAMERA.
JACK
He farted on creme brulee; he sneezed on braised endive; and, with
creme of mushroom soup, he ... he ...
TYLER (O.S.)
Go ahead. Say it.
JACK
Well, you get the idea.
EXT. PARKING LOT OF TAVERN - RESUMING
Tyler and Jack come out of the bar; Jack shakes his head.
JACK
What?
TYLER
Hit me as hard as you can.
Tyler leads Jack into an open area, lit by a streetlamp.
JACK
I don't know about this, Tyler.
TYLER
I don't know either. I want to find out. We're virgins. Neither one
of us has ever been hit.
JACK
You've never been in a fight?
TYLER
I didn't say that. I said I've never been hit.
JACK
That's good, isnt' it?
TYLER
Listen to me -- hit me. You're the only one I ever asked.
PG 38
JACK
Me?
Jack stares at him. The five drunken GUYS -- the same ones who stared
at them earlier -- have formed a distant perimeter, sensing a fight.
Jack glances at them, then back at Tyler.
JACK
I've ... never hit anyone in my life.
TYLER
Go crazy. Let it rip.
JACK
Where do you want it? In the face or the stomach?
TYLER
Surprise me.
Jack swings a wide, clumsy roundhouse that connects with Tyler's neck.
It makes a dull, soft flat sound. Tyler's neck turns red.
JACK
Shit. Sorry. That didn't count. Let me try again.
TYLER
Like hell. That counted.
Tyler shoots out a straight punch to Jack's chest. The impact makes a
dull, barely-audible sound and Jack falls back against a car. The Guys
whoop and clap, moving closer. Jack's eyes involuntarily well up with
tears. He and Tyler breathe HEAVILY and sprout BEADS of SWEAT on their
faces.
TYLER
How do you feel?
JACK
Strange.
TYLER
But a *good* strange.
JACK
Is it?
TYLER
We've crossed the threshold.
PG 39
JACK
... I guess so.
TYLER
You want to call it off?
JACK
Call what off?
TYLER
The fight.
JACK
*What* fight?
TYLER
I'm tired of watching only professionals. I don't want to die without
any scars. How much can you really know about yourself if you never go
at it, one-on-one?
JACK
Tyler ...
TYLER
Are you a pussy?
Jack swings another roundhouse that slams right under Tyler's ear. The
sound, soft and flat. Tyler punches Jack in the stomach. The Guys
move closer, cheering the fight. Tyler and Jack move clumsily,
throwing punches. They breathe heavier, their eyes red and bright.
They drool saliva and blood. They each hurt badly and become dizzier
from every impact.
JACK (V.O.)
If you've never been in a fight, you wonder about getting hurt, about
what you're capable of doing against another man.
Tyler and Jack keep fighting. The guys mix laughter with their cheers,
looking at each other in wondrous amusement.
EXT. CURBSIDE - LATER
Jack and Tyler sit on the curb, staring at the sparse headlights on the
nearby freeway. Their eyes are glazed with endorphin-induced serenity.
They look at each other. Laugh. Look away.
TYLER
What were you fighting?
PG 40
JACK
My job. My boss, who fiddles with my DOS execute commands. Marla, at
my support groups. Everything that's broken and doesn't work in my
life. What were you fighting?
TYLER
My father.
A pause as Jack studies Tyler's face.
JACK
We should do this again sometime.
Tyler cracks a smile, gives a sidelong glance to Jack, then returns his
stare to the night sky.
EXT. PAPER STREET - NIGHT
A street sign: "PAPER STREET". An abandoned PAPER MILL sits on one
side and only ONE HOUSE on the other, the rest of the land being
undeveloped grass and weeds. It's an old, grand, three-story gone to
seed. It looks abandoned, too.
INT. PAPER ST. HOUSE - LIVING ROOM -SAME
Tyler leads Jack up a staircase to a 2ND FLOOR LANDING, then opens the
door to a room.
INT. ROOM - CONTINUOUS
Jack steps into the room, sits down on the old bed. It CREAKS. Dust
drifts upward.
JACK (V.O.)
I don't know how Tyler found the house. He'd been there for half a
year. It was waiting for re-zoning or something.
CUT TO:
EXT. LOU'S TAVERN PARKING LOT - NIGHT
LONG SHOT - ZOOMING OUT - A group of SIX GUYS watching TWO GUYS in a
fist fight. CUT TO:
INT. PAPER ST. HOUSE - KITCHEN - MORNING
Jack, his face showing new bruises and cuts, his knuckles puffy, shoos
away cockroaches as he makes coffee with a wire-mesh strainer. He has
a happy little smile.
PG 41
JACK (V.O.)
Nothing worked. The rusty plumbing leaked. Turning on a light meant
that another light in the house went out. The stairs were ready to
collapse.
CUT TO:
EXT. CONVENIENCE STORE PARKING LOT - NIGHT
LONG SHOT - ZOOMING OUT - Resuming from previous shot, getting further
away, but now with TEN GUYS around two guys fighting. CUT TO:
INT. SHOWER - MORNING
Jack, showing some new bruises, with even fatter knuckles, turns on the
water. LOUD VIBRATION from the walls. Water spits in starts, then
dribbles out. CUT TO:
INT. KITCHEN - MORNING
Tyler, in a nice suit, checks over the bars of soap in his briefcase,
then shuts it. Jack walks in, dressed in his work clothes. He picks
up a battered old saucepan with boiling coal-black coffee and sips. He
offers it to Tyler, who sips. Jack pulls a TOOTH out of his mouth and
throws it into the sink. They both walk out the door.
EXT. CINEMA PARKING LOT - NIGHT
LONG SHOT - ZOOMING OUT - Resuming from previous shot, getting further
away, but now with FOURTEEN GUYS around a fight. CUT TO:
EXT. PORCH - NIGHT
Tyler, in his waiter uniform, sits next to Jack on the lip of the
porch. They both have newer, different bruises and cuts, sit and
guzzle beer. THUNDERCLAPS. RAIN begins to fall. Tyler gets to his
feet.
INT. BASEMENT - SAME
Tyler and Jack are knee-deep in water, standing by a FUSEBOX. Tyler
opens it. He grabs two breaker switches, waits for Jack. Jack grabs
two other switches, apparently, they have to do this in a certain
order. Tyler flips his switches, then Jack flips his. CUT TO:
EXT. CONSTRUCTION AREA - NIGHT
LONG SHOT - ZOOMING OUT - Resuming from previous shot, getting further
away, but now with EIGHTEEN GUYS around a fight. CUT TO:
PG 42
INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT
Rain DRIPS from the ceiling -- some of it from LIGHT FIXTURES. Tyler
and Jack enter with LIT CANDLES. They sit down on the decrepit,
buckled wood floor. There's not one item of furniture in the room.
There are, however, THOUSANDS of MAGAZINES.
JACK (V.O.)
The previous occupant collected magazines.
They each pick up an opened magazine and resume reading, adjusting
close to the candles.
Tyler lies down next to him, setting his candle next to Jack's. Tyler
picks up a magazine.
TYLER
What are your reading?
JACK
"I Am Joe's Lungs". It's written in first person. "Without me, Joe
could not take in oxygen to feed his red blood cells".
TYLER
Sounds fascinating.
JACK
It's a whole series -- "I Am Joe's Prostate".
TYLER
"I get cancer, and I kill Joe".
JACK
What are you reading?
TYLER
Soldier of Fortune, National Geographic. New Republic. Forbes.
JACK
Show-off.
JACK (V.O.)
Every Wednesday night, after fighting like wild animals, we were too
wired to go to sleep.
PG 43
INT. CONFERENCE ROOM - DAY
In near DARKNESS as a SLIDE SHOW progresses, run by a chipper salesman,
WALTER. Jack sits, deadpan, with a PUFFY LIP and a BRUISE on his
cheek.
JACK (V.O.)
Thursday morning, my Boss didn't know what to think.
Boss blocks him from the rest of the room, gives him a dubious look,
turns back to Walter.
JACK (V.O.)
And all I could do was think about next week.
Walter advances to the next slide, showing a view of a COMPUTER SCREEN.
WALTER
The basic premise of microsofting your office is -- make things more
efficient.
As Walter continues, his sales pitched gets drowned out by Jack's
narration:
JACK (V.O.)
Walter, the Microsoft account exec, smiled at me with his steam shovel
jaw. Walter, with his smooth, soft hands. Here he was, doing his cute
little show. Maybe thinking about a free-range potluck he'd been to
last weekend, but probably not.
Walter moves to Jack and slaps his shoulder.
WALTER
I showed this already to my man here. You liked it, didn't you?
Slowly, Jack smiles. His teeth are RED with BLOOD. They GLOW eerily
in the dim light.
JACK (V.O.)
You can swallow a pint of blood before you get sick.
WALTER
Jeez, I'd hate to see what happened to the other guy.
Jack keeps the smile frozen on his face.
PG 44
JACK (V.O.)
Fuck Walter. His candy ass wouldn't last a second in fight club.
EXT. LOU'S TAVERN - NIGHT
Out of silent darkness, HEADLIGHTS appear from all directions. A
synchronous WAVE of cars PULLS UP and parks in the already-filled lot.
Young men get out of the arriving cars and wander into the tavern. We
recognize, among them, the GUYS who watched Tyler and Jack's *first
fight*.
INT. LOU'S TAVERN - SAME
The men enter; the bartender, IRVINE, calls out:
IRVINE
Drink up people. We're closing. Let's go.
The crowd consists of men and women YUPPIES: blue collar REGULARS
dressed in work clothes or like cowboys; floozy barfly WOMEN. MUSIC
plays from the jukebox.
The arriving men simply wait. And wait. Tyler and Jack enter. They,
too, stand back against he wall.
The waiting army begins to share secret looks and grins. A certain
level of eagerness can be seen among them.
Irvine looks at Jack and grins. He flips on LIGHTS. The drunken
customers squint and get the message. They gulp down their drinks,
plop down money and filter out the door. Irvine hits a button and the
jukebox loses power -- the record simply turns slower until it stops
revolving.
Finally, the last of the irritated customers leaves. One guy locks the
door. Two other guys pull down blinds. Someone else moves over to the
BASEMENT DOOR and opens it.
INT. BASEMENT STEPS - MOMENTS LATER
The grinning men march down steps; CHATTER begins.
TALL GUY
I brought my roommate tonight. Phil.
FAT GUY
Oh, yeah? Hi, Phil.
TALL GUY
He kept seeing what I looked like. Had to check it out.
PG 45
INT. TAVERN BASEMENT - SAME
A BOMB-SHELTER -- concrete floor, concrete walls. One BARE LIGHT BULB
hangs by a wire from the ceiling. Tyler nods to Jack and Jack turns on
the light. The guys mill around, finding partners. The whole mood is
very friendly. Everyone brims with eagerness, but tries to act cool
about it. CHATTER gets LOUDER.
FAT GUY
A mean uppercut.
WIRY GUY
I gotta work on my left.
SHORT GUY
*He's* got a left.
FAT GUY
Hey, you're wiping the floor with dudes who are way out of your weight
class.
TALL GUY (slapping Wiry Guy's shoulder)
Skinny guys. They fight till they're burger.
PEAKING CHATTER, then -- Tyler moves into position directly under the
light bulb. His face is partially in shadow.
Everyone spreads out, forming a circle, the light bulb for a center.
Tyler's will WIPES through the r