Headquarters. Unless you want to haul Ricky Smith to Washington to do card tricks. (Beat) You know what's really strange?
BRADY
You mean apart from this whole fucking day?
HELEN
It's like none of this has anything to do with Larry Johnson's murder anymore. It's all changed.
BRADY
That's what I was talking about in the Fix-It shop. This investigation isn't following the regular pattern. Usually a case gets more focused with every lead you track down. But this one just keeps going and going.
HELEN
Agreed. It's like, Larry Johnson ... then the magic shop ... then Ricky ... I feel like we're on some kind of weird scavenger hunt.
Helen seems on the brink of something, but can't quite articulate it.
HELEN
It all seems so random ... but somehow deliberately random ... like this is all some kind of excuse to ... to--
COUNTERGIRL (O.S.)
Good evening, folks!
Brady and Helen look up sharply. A young COUNTERGIRL Is standing there. She is tall and very attractive, hut wearing too much makeup, giving her face a waxy appearance.
COUNTERGIRL
Would you like to try the meatloaf tonight?
BRADY
Uh ... yeah, sure.
COUNTERGIRL
And for you, ma'am?
Helen is a little out of it, still trying to hold onto her last thought ... to no avail.
HELEN
Just some coffee for me, thanks.
The countergirl walks away.
BRADY
What were you saying, Sweeten?
HELEN
I can't remember now. Probably wasn't important.
BRADY
Well, I'm going to visit the Men's. Don't eat my meatloaf.
He stands up and walks toward the back of the diner.
INT. DINER - BATHROOM
Two stalls, both with closed doors. One urinal. Lots of white tile.
Brady enters. He steps up to the urinal, starts to unzip his fly, and looks down. The urinal is cracked and broken--unusable.
BRADY
Whoops.
He turns toward the stalls. He pushes on the first door, but it's latched--someone's using it.
BRADY
Sorry, buddy.
He pushes the other door, which swings open.
INT. DINER
Helen sitting at the counter, all alone in the diner. Her CELL PHONE RINGS. She answers it.
HELEN
Helen Sweeten ... What's that? ... I'm sorry, I can barely hear you ...
INT. DINER - BATHROOM
The sound of BRADY URINATING echoes against the tiled walls.
CU ON BRADY - his face goes from slack contentment to a scowl. His nose twitches as he sniffs the air.
BRADY
(to himself)
Aw, Christ!
(calling out)
Hey, you all right in there, buddy?
His face screws up as another wave of the stench hits him.
BRADY
Oh, mother of god!
INT. DINER
Helen on the phone.
HELEN
... I'm losing you, could you ... ah, shit!
She snaps the phone closed.
INT. DINER - BATHROOM - ON BRADY
Brady is holding his breath now. He shakes off and leaves the stall without flushing. He quickly runs his hands under some hot water.
BRADY
Mister, I think you need to see a doctor about that.
He grabs a few sheets of paper towel and leaves.
The CAMERA PANS DOWN to peer under the stall door. In the still occupied stall we see a pair of shiny black shoes, like the kind that come with a rented tuxedo. They FLOAT STRAIGHT UP AND OUT OF SIGHT.
INT. DINER
Brady comes back, drying his hands with the paper towel. Helen is obviously upset--somewhere between worried and pissed off.
BRADY
What's the matter with you?
HELEN
I got a call from the section chief, but the connection was pretty bad and he got cut off.
BRADY
Did he have any news?
HELEN
He sounded pretty shaken up, something about the Syrian situation. And I'm pretty sure I heard the word "nuclear."
BRADY
Nuclear ... as in nuclear bomb nuclear?
HELEN
I don't know.
Helen crinkles her nose and then looks at Brady.
HELEN
I guess that bran muffin finally kicked in, eh?
BRADY
What?
(he sniffs his jacket)
Aw, man! It's in my goddamn clothes!
HELEN
I think I might have to move down one seat. No offense.
BRADY
It's not me. Some guy in the bathroom. You know how they say red meat stays in your colon for seven years? I think this guy was letting all his go at once.
He removes
BRADY
You mean apart from this whole fucking day?
HELEN
It's like none of this has anything to do with Larry Johnson's murder anymore. It's all changed.
BRADY
That's what I was talking about in the Fix-It shop. This investigation isn't following the regular pattern. Usually a case gets more focused with every lead you track down. But this one just keeps going and going.
HELEN
Agreed. It's like, Larry Johnson ... then the magic shop ... then Ricky ... I feel like we're on some kind of weird scavenger hunt.
Helen seems on the brink of something, but can't quite articulate it.
HELEN
It all seems so random ... but somehow deliberately random ... like this is all some kind of excuse to ... to--
COUNTERGIRL (O.S.)
Good evening, folks!
Brady and Helen look up sharply. A young COUNTERGIRL Is standing there. She is tall and very attractive, hut wearing too much makeup, giving her face a waxy appearance.
COUNTERGIRL
Would you like to try the meatloaf tonight?
BRADY
Uh ... yeah, sure.
COUNTERGIRL
And for you, ma'am?
Helen is a little out of it, still trying to hold onto her last thought ... to no avail.
HELEN
Just some coffee for me, thanks.
The countergirl walks away.
BRADY
What were you saying, Sweeten?
HELEN
I can't remember now. Probably wasn't important.
BRADY
Well, I'm going to visit the Men's. Don't eat my meatloaf.
He stands up and walks toward the back of the diner.
INT. DINER - BATHROOM
Two stalls, both with closed doors. One urinal. Lots of white tile.
Brady enters. He steps up to the urinal, starts to unzip his fly, and looks down. The urinal is cracked and broken--unusable.
BRADY
Whoops.
He turns toward the stalls. He pushes on the first door, but it's latched--someone's using it.
BRADY
Sorry, buddy.
He pushes the other door, which swings open.
INT. DINER
Helen sitting at the counter, all alone in the diner. Her CELL PHONE RINGS. She answers it.
HELEN
Helen Sweeten ... What's that? ... I'm sorry, I can barely hear you ...
INT. DINER - BATHROOM
The sound of BRADY URINATING echoes against the tiled walls.
CU ON BRADY - his face goes from slack contentment to a scowl. His nose twitches as he sniffs the air.
BRADY
(to himself)
Aw, Christ!
(calling out)
Hey, you all right in there, buddy?
His face screws up as another wave of the stench hits him.
BRADY
Oh, mother of god!
INT. DINER
Helen on the phone.
HELEN
... I'm losing you, could you ... ah, shit!
She snaps the phone closed.
INT. DINER - BATHROOM - ON BRADY
Brady is holding his breath now. He shakes off and leaves the stall without flushing. He quickly runs his hands under some hot water.
BRADY
Mister, I think you need to see a doctor about that.
He grabs a few sheets of paper towel and leaves.
The CAMERA PANS DOWN to peer under the stall door. In the still occupied stall we see a pair of shiny black shoes, like the kind that come with a rented tuxedo. They FLOAT STRAIGHT UP AND OUT OF SIGHT.
INT. DINER
Brady comes back, drying his hands with the paper towel. Helen is obviously upset--somewhere between worried and pissed off.
BRADY
What's the matter with you?
HELEN
I got a call from the section chief, but the connection was pretty bad and he got cut off.
BRADY
Did he have any news?
HELEN
He sounded pretty shaken up, something about the Syrian situation. And I'm pretty sure I heard the word "nuclear."
BRADY
Nuclear ... as in nuclear bomb nuclear?
HELEN
I don't know.
Helen crinkles her nose and then looks at Brady.
HELEN
I guess that bran muffin finally kicked in, eh?
BRADY
What?
(he sniffs his jacket)
Aw, man! It's in my goddamn clothes!
HELEN
I think I might have to move down one seat. No offense.
BRADY
It's not me. Some guy in the bathroom. You know how they say red meat stays in your colon for seven years? I think this guy was letting all his go at once.
He removes
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