The Pitch: A Sudden Dissonance

"Battlefield Earth"

Studio Executive is on the phone, while John Travolta waits silently in a chair near SE's desk.

SE (into phone): “She's taking the house? Where am I supposed to live?”
(pause)
“What about all my...”
(pause)
“So there's nothing I can....”
(pause)
“They're my kids, too! Where are they supposed to sleep when they're with me?”
(pause)
“WHAT?! NO NO NO NO NO! We agreed! I would get to see them on weekends and we'd split the holidays. How the fuck did....”
(pause)
“That makes me a bad husband, not a bad father! The judge already granted me...”
(pause)
“Well it sounded pretty fucking final to me!”

Studio Executive holds the phone away from his ear for a moment, closes his eyes, and sighs deeply. He puts the phone back to his ear.

SE: (into phone) “Okay, look what's the bottom line here? Where do I stand once this all goes through?”
(long pause)
“I....I....I don't..........”

Studio Executive stares off into nothing, letting the phone slowly fall away from his ear, eventually just letting it rest on his desk, still off the hook. Tears begin to form in the corners of his eyes, as he continues staring into his own private abyss. He slowly begins panning his eyes across the room, for no apparent reason, just a desperate attempt to find something worthwhile to occupy his view, and perhaps momentarily distract him from his pain. His eyes fall upon John Travolta, still sitting silently, awaiting his turn to speak. Studio Executive seems startled, as if he had completely forgotten that another person was in the room.

SE: “Yes, John. I'm sorry to have interrupted you. What were you saying again?”

JT: “I want to make a movie based on a novel written by the same guy who founded my religion.”

SE: “What religion?”

JT: “Scientology.”

Studio Executive stares blankly at him.

JT: “The one with alien ghosts.”

SE: “Yeah, now I remember. Fine. Whatever. Just tell Sharon on your way out that it's greenlit and she'll get all the.....details......worked.....whatever. I just need a few moments alone.”

JT: “Sure thing.”

John Travolta walks happily out of the office, as Studio Executive cradles his forehead in his hands and slowly begins to sob. Somewhere between the sobs, the off-the-hook phone starts beeping.