Scene i: The Drive.
Setting: Matt Leinart's Hummer
Matt Leinart: Yeah, so thanks for coming out with me, Fitty. Are you enjoying the interior of my new Hummer?
Larry Fitzgerald: S’all good, Matt. Thanks for inviting me along for the free crackers. Holy shit, I love crackers. ‘Specially free crackers.
Matt: Heh, yeah.
Fitty: …There are gonna be some free crackers where we goin, right?
Matt: Yeah, man. Free crackers, it’s a done deal.
Fitty: The uneasiness in your voice disturbs me. And where are we going?
Matt: I told you where we were going.
Fitty: No, you didn’t. You just drove up my driveway with the words FREE CRACKERS painted on the side of your new Hummer, knowing full well that I would jump into your well-upholstered vehicle to accompany you without hesitation, which I did.
Fitty: But I should have you know, good sir, I consider any insinuation of free crackers to be sincere, and therefore binding. Should you fail to deliver on your promise in a timely fashion, you shall draw the wrath of Mr. Fitzgerald.
Matt: Lemme just call my agent on the hands-free and, uh, make sure the crackers are there. [dials, phone rings]
Fitty: There where? Where the fuck are we going?
Tom: [on the phone] This is Tom.
Matt: Tom, it’s Matt, I’m on my way to that meeting with the Miramax people, but…
Tom: Spit it out, Matt. I got a couple-a Venezualan broads armwrestling over here to see who’s gonna blow me first, and they are not a patient people. Out with it.
Matt: I gotta be honest man, this fucking movie bullshit, I’m not really feeling it.
Tom [Matt’s agent]: Then I’m glad you called. I know you’re concerned, it’s a significant potential investment, but you don’t need to sweat it, Miramax and I have talked it over, this new movie is gonna reignite the whole shitlovin’ franchise. Wait, listen, you hear that? That’s the sound of 20-dollar bills being printed for you to wipe your ass with. It’s a win-win, Matty. Guaranteed.
Fitty: Miramax? What the—
Matt: Tom, I don’t want to be a Negative Nancy about this, but, a new Lassie movie? Really?
Tom: Matty, simmer down, my man. Put on your ballroom dancing cap and think about the economics of the thing.
Matt: Uh, okay.
Tom: Family movie. The whole family’s going to see this thing. Kids wanna see Lassie, so mom and dad gotta see Lassie. But those spoiled little shits don’t stop there, they gotta pester the parents at Wal-Mart to buy all these shitty toys that get released along with the movie. But they gotta get the ball rolling, they need money to film the shit. Some of the usual guys haven’t come through, and, uh, they’re gonna share the pie with the new backers, you know, with you guys.
Fitty: This is about money?
Tom: Whadya say, Matty?
Matt: I said…if the movie’s gonna be so tits, how come they’re still looking for money?
Tom: Matty, c’mon baby, who ya talkin’ to? Have I ever given you bad advice?
Matt: Maybe that flight attendant you set me up with at the Madden party last year?
Tom: Hey, she didn’t have chlamydia when I fucked her.
Matt: Oh, that’s great.
Tom: Matty, c’mon baby. Listen, these Miramax guys, they don’t forget the people that come through for them. So maybe down the road when your career goes all Kurt Warner and whatnot, we get Jeff over in media to ghostwrite a couple of your books, we go back to Miramax, they’re looking at a new movie, all about you, and you’re getting all this just for cashing in on this Lassie business. Matty, with these guys, one hand—
Matt: Look, I got Fitty in the car with me, so I gotta go.
Tom: Alright. I’ll be in Cayman tomorrow through next week, so reach me there. Tell Fitty he can reach me there, too.
Matt: Cool, man. [click] What a douche.
Fitty: I did not hear the topic of Mr. Fitzgerald’s crackers addressed during that conversation. Matty.
Matt: Look, dude. Let’s just go to this—
Fitty: Nah nah nah man, FUCK THAT SHIT. What the fuck does he mean “back it,” like giving them money, in lieu of the crackers that were promised to me? Like those crazy bitches are getting Dime One of my shit for some Lassie movie. That’s my stash, man. I repeat: fuck that shit. Matty. I just came for the free crackers. Matty.
Matt: C’mon man, be cool. You heard him, this could be a big deal for me. Let’s just hear them out.
Fitty: Where the fuck are my free crackers? Matty?
Matt: Stop calling me Matty, you cock!
Fitty: Yeah, you just missed the turn right there.
Matt: What? This printout says another point-three miles.
Fitty: The fucking sign was right there! You’ve got that shitass Google Maps, ain’t no fuckin point-three miles you stupid fucking—
Matt: ALRIGHT I’M FUCKING TURNING AROUND! Fucking shit! And stop calling me Matty or I’m gonna tell Anquan that we went someplace without him!
Fitty: ...Nah, we straight.
Matt: Okay [Matt parks, gets out of the car] So we just go in and listen, and if we like the ideas they have for the movie, then we can offer to back it, or we can—are you getting out of the car?
Fitty: [muffled through the window] I ain’t givin’ no money, man. I just came for the free crackers.
Matt: Look, we’re just going in to listen, okay? You don’t even have to say anything. I know some of these people, they’re counting on me and--let’s just do this. I am sure they have some crackers in there.
Fitty: [gets out of the car] Gimme your keys [Matt gives him his keys]. If they don’t have crackers in there, I’m gonna pour grape juice on your new upholstery. And then I’m gonna shit on it.
Tomorrow: Act II