Moonstruck

" M O O N S T R U C K " by John Patrick Shanley Final Draft FADE IN: INT. ZITO'S BREAD STORY - DAY Several dozen loaves of golden Italian bread are standing on end in a shaft of morning sunlight. They are standing on end in bins. In the window, ZITO'S can be read in reverse. We leave the loaves and DRIFT DOWN TO a Progresso Products calendar, which hangs from the wall by a nail. The month is November. Various phone numbers and delivery dates have been penned in in a rough scrawl. Now WE GO TO a white formica counter, scuffed and pocked from long use. On the counter, in a rinsed out olive jar filled with water, are three fat red roses. The TITLE APPEARS IN BLACK SCRIPT AGAINST THE WHITE BACKGROUND. MOONSTRUCK Now WE FAINTLY HEAR THE VOICE of Zito himself, and a low TAPPING SOUND. SOME CREDITS ROLL. ZITO'S VOICE (barely discernable) Three times they cancel the order with me, and three times they come back. Who they kidding? They cheap, cheap, cheap. The other bread they get is no good. They save pennies. Everybody complain and they come back. "Zito, your bread is the best." They're like children stupid in school who cannot learn. The water. It's the water. You buy bread in Hoboken, you get Hoboken water. Hoboken water is dry. Ask anybody who knows. Ask your father. He knows. During Zito's plaintive words, WE LEAVE the roses and MOVE DOWN the counter TO a calculator being tapped very efficiently with the eraser end of pencil.