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A Scanner Darkly - A Screenplay by Charlie Kaufman

A Scanner Darkly - A Screenplay by Charlie Kaufman

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Published by fucoid
Kaufman's screen adaptation of Phillip K. Dick's novel

Kaufman's screen adaptation of Phillip K. Dick's novel

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Published by: fucoid on Jan 18, 2009
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial

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08/12/2015

Arctor, Barris, and Luckman are looking under the hood.
White smoke drifts from the oil caps. Water fizzles from the
overflow spout of the radiator.

ERNIE LUCKMAN
The linkage from the pedal to the carb
fell apart.

BOB ARCTOR
Shouldn't this locking ring hold the
nut in place?

JIM BARRIS
The idle screw has been turned all the
way out. So when the linkage parted,
the override went up instead of down.

ERNIE LUCKMAN
Could it screw itself all the way out
like that accidentally?

JIM BARRIS
No. A special tool would be needed.
A couple, in fact. I have the tools
to fix this, but back at the house.

Arctor looks over at Barris. Is Barris saying he did it?

JIM BARRIS (CONT'D)
So we'll have to get to gas station
and borrow tools from them.

ERNIE LUCKMAN
Hey, man, did this happen by accident
or was it done deliberately? Like the
cephscope.

JIM BARRIS
(still grinning)
It's hard to say.
(glances over at Arctor)
You should've cut the ignition as soon
as you realized what happened.

41.

CONTINUED:

(CONTINUED)

BOB ARCTOR
For a second I couldn't figure it out.

ERNIE LUCKMAN
(spinning and lashing out
with bost fists)
MOTHERFUCKER! Somebody did this
intentionally! They fucking almost
killed us!

Barris pulls out a snuffbox, removies a few tabs of Death,
and swallows them. He passes the snuffbox to Luckman, who
takes a few with a shaky hand, then passes the box to
Arctor. Arctor hands it back to Barris without taking any.

BOB ARCTOR

(irritably)
Maybe this is what's fucking us up,
messing up our brains.

JIM BARRIS
Dope can't screw up a carb-idle
adjustment, my friend.
(holds box out to Arctor)
You'd better take at least three of
these. They're primo, but mild.

BOB ARCTOR
Put the fucking snuffbox away!

Barris smiles, puts it away. Arctor tries to focus back on
the engine. He sways lightheadedly and supports himself
against the car. The hot sun beats down on the back of his
head. Cars whiz by, the traffic noises intensified. He
hears singing, quiet at first, but soon overwhelming. It's
awful, discordant. He looks at Luckman and Barris,
silhouetted against the sun. Luckman says something, but
Arctor can't make it out over the singing and the traffic
noise. An awful smell permeates the air. Arctor sniffs at
it. His face contorts. He feels nauseated, shuts his eyes.

ERNIE LUCKMAN
(barely audible above
singing)
Hey, do you smell something, man? A
clue? Some engine smell that --

BOB ARCTOR
(eyes suddenly wide)
Dog shit! Do you smell dog shit?

42.

CONTINUED:

(CONTINUED)

ERNIE LUCKMAN

(eyeing Arctor)

No.

(to Barris)
Were there any psychedelics in that
dope?

Barris smiles and shakes his head. Arctor studies the
engine, sniffs it.

BOB ARCTOR
It's an illusion, right? There's no
dog shit smell. How could there be
dog shit in the eng...

He spots ugly, dark brown stains around the motorblock.

BOB ARCTOR (CONT'D)

(freaked)
Dog shit! Dog shit!
(trying to focus)
Oil. Spilled oil. Thrown oil.
That's all. Maybe a leaky head gasket.

Arctor reaches down to touch the dark stain. His hand jerks
back in revulsion.

BOB ARCTOR (CONT'D)
Dog shit! Fuck! It is dog shit!

Now he looks around the engine and sees it everywhere: all
over the block, on the wires, on the fire wall. He looks
up, sees it smeared on the soundproofing under the hood.
The smell is overwhelming. He lurches away from the car,
shuts his eyes, staggers. Luckman grabs Arctor's arm.

ERNIE LUCKMAN
Hey, man, you're getting a flashback.

JIM BARRIS

(chuckling)
Free theater tickets.

Luckman guides Arctor to the driver's seat, sits him down.

ERNIE LUCKMAN
Now just take it easy. Nobody got
killed and now we're warned. It's
okay. It's okay. Everything's okay.

Arctor closes his eyes.

43.

CONTINUED:

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