The ear came to us. It frightenedour secretary terribly.
SECRETARY:
It's true.
GAIL:
It's my son's ear. It's his. Ours.
EDITOR:
We want to offer some compensation.
GAIL:
I don't want to sell you pictures ofmy son's ear.
EDITOR:
Your son is being held for ransom.
You claim not to have any money. We may be able to make a negotiation.
CHACE:
How much money are you offering?
EDITOR:
Fifty thousand American dollars.
GAIL:
It's not enough.
EDITOR:
In the eyes of the law, we own thephotograph already.
CHACE:
Go to hell.
92.
EDITOR:
Va bene. We will leave you alonenow if you like. Enjoy the coffee.
The editorial staff files out. Then:
GAIL:
Pay me in newspapers.
(off his look) I want my son's ear on the cover of your newspaper.
EDITOR:
We wouldn't have it any other way.
GAIL:
But I don't want money. I want a thousand copies of your newspaper.
EDITOR:
And where would you like these thousand newspapers sent?
CUT TO:
A PALLET OF TABLOID NEWSPAPERS On every cover, the Polaroid image of the earless Paul Getty.
The pallet is RAISED on a forklift - EXT. SUTTON PLACE -- FRONT GATES -- DAY -- and DROPPED in front of the iron gates. The forklift lumbers off, leaving the newspapers fluttering in the wind.