MASTERMIND SCREENPLAY - PAGE 14
- A big concrete block of a strip joint. Sign promises sports television and an all-you-can-eat lunch buffet.
- Sparsely populated with somewhat icky PATRONS and the STRIPPERS not good enough for the night shifts. Delgado sits at the stage eating lunch, staring up at either the a stripper with track marks or at the Cubs/Dodgers game. Possibly both.
- BRAD (O.S.)
- If you were anybody else, I’d say you were a rude, stuck-up asshole.
- DELGADO
- I am.
- BRAD (30s, FBI poster boy) takes a seat beside Delgado.
- BRAD
- We were having cake. Big “Congrats, Brad” on it and you walk out and come here. Real d-bag move, Tony.
- Delgado nods. He takes out a fold of singles. Delgado reaches out and pushes it down.
- DELGADO
- Don’t. Then she’ll never leave.
- Brad takes the advice.
- BRAD
- You think it should have been you getting the A.D. gig instead getting this close to a four-bagger?
- Holds his fingers imperceptibly close together.
- DELGADO
- Don’t you?
- BRAD
- Yeah. I do. Mastermind aside, you are one bad-ass G-man.
- Brad snags a french fry.
- BRAD (CONT’D)
- Them using that Mastermind crap against you, that was bullshit.
- DELGADO
- They said I was casting a bad light on the Bureau. That I basically planned the Lavulite job for him. That I failed to-- Masterschmuck saved me from his bomb because he thinks it’s better to have me chase him than not.
- BRAD
- None of the rest of us could even keep up with that comic-book reject.
- (bites off some fry)
- Oh my God, this...really good.
- DELGADO
- I don’t come here for the talent.
©2025 Michael Patrick Sullivan
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