Garrison Keillor & Sally Dworsky:
Farewell, Minnesota, I'm bound for L.A.
In a car with my girlfriend and a screenplay.
It's only a first draft and the opening is long
And the part where they blow up the truck is all wrong
It's about two lovers from the Midwest
Who come to LA cause they're under arrest
And they are on drugs and her hair is on fire
But I could make it a comedy if you desire.
GK: Excuse me, ma'am. I'm here to see Mr. Kerjistan. I left my screenplay here over a week ago. The one entitled "Airports, Bus Depots, Rail Terminals" --
Meryl Streep: Mr. Kerjistan is in a meeting.
GK: Perhaps he left the screenplay for me to pick up. It's in a manila envelope with "Airports, Bus Depots, Rail Terminals" written on the outside in large capital letters.
MS: He hasn't left it here, I'm sorry.
GK: When will he be out of the meeting?
MS: It's hard to say.
GK: Then I'll wait.If that's okay.
MS: Don't. It's lousy.
GK: He said that?
MS: No. I did.
GK: You? You look like the cleaning lady.
MS: I am cleaning lady. And cleaning ladies are the most powerful women in Hollywood. You want something put on somebody's desk, she's the one who can do it.
GK: You read my--
MS: I've read your screenplay, "Airports, Bus Depots, Train Stations" --
GK: It's "Airports, Bus Depots, Rail Terminals"--
MS: I read it from beginning to end and to be honest with you, it's a piece of crap.
GK: You didn't like it?
MS: You can't write dialogue.
GK: What?--
MS: Dialogue. Where two or more people talk back and forth.
GK: Me?
MS: Who am I talking to? You.
GK: My dialogue.
MS: You're writing essays-- there's no drama there--
GK: Wait a minute.
MS: The scene where the woman with red hair walks into the grill and orders the grilled cheese and it reminds her of her aunt and she talks to the short order cook about mutability and change and she reads him two pages from Kierkegaard.
GK: Okay. That one time. But where else?
MS: It's a hundred and fifty pages of non sequiturs. That's my opinion.
GK: How can you say that?
MS: You've got no ear for dialogue.
GK: Says who?
MS: Me.
GK: What do you know?
MS: I know that your writing is dead. And it's repetitive.
GK: Dead. My dialogue.
MS: And repetitive.
GK: It's repetitive?
MS: Yes.
GK: You're saying, it's repetitive?
MS: I've said it three times.
GK: You know, I'd feel better about this conversation if you put down that gun.
MS: Oh. Forgot I was holding it. I thought it was a pair of pliers.
GK: I'm just sort of stunned-- (GUNSHOTS) What did you do? You just shot my screenplay.
MS: You'll thank me someday.
GK: No! Not my laptop! Not my hard drive. Please. (GUNSHOTS)
MS: Go back to Minnesota. Make a life for yourself. Forget about Hollywood.
GK: I can't.
MS: You can. Imagination is not your forte, mister. Go find a job driving a truck. You'll be happier. (REVERB) You'll be happier...you'll be happier...(SEMI APPROACHES, SLOWING. BLOWS HORN. AIR BRAKE.)
John C. Reilly (OFF): Need a ride?
GK: Where am I?
JCR (OFF): North Dakota.
GK: You heading east?
JCR (OFF): Hop in.
GK & SD DUET:
Farewell, California, hello to the prairie.
Goodbye to illusion, hello ordinary.
I will sit in my backyard beneath a small tree
And be grateful to live ordinarily.
I'll admire the birds that are gray or brown
And savor the pleasures of a small town.
I will see the beauty in the commonest thing,
Though of course I will wait for the phone to ring.