Salt

SALT By Kurt Wimmer Current revisions by Brian Helgeland January 16, 2009 FADE IN: A WOMAN’S HANDS Folding a PAPER NAPKIN. Nails clipped short, no polish. SALT’S VOICE Fold the napkin into quarters... Fold the top in half diagonally. INT. SALT'S OFFICE - DIVERSIFIED PETROLEUM - DAY As EVELYN SALT checks her computer screen. She’s on a DINNER NAPKIN FOLDING website. Out her window: WASHINGTON DC. SALT (reading off screen) Fold the right side back, one third of the way down. As she does this, a NEW ANGLE and she’s unaware that TED WINTER stops outside her door, watches as she finishes the last few folds, then slides a plastic fork, spoon and knife down inside the paper napkin ‘pouch’. Very neat. WINTER Are you doing this on company time? SALT Got a big dinner tonight. I want the table just... perfect. WINTER If the taxpayers only knew. He steps in to take a closer look. Winter is 45, every inch the tough, but fair executive type. He has a briefcase-bag over his shoulder. On his way out. SALT I could’ve done a crown fold, a lily goblet. Hmmm. What do you think? WINTER I don’t really have an opinion. She pokes at it, frowns, dissatisfied. SALT It’s not very sexy. Winter looks to a desk PHOTO of Salt and her man MIKE DUNCAN. He tries to comes up with something reassuring to say. 2. WINTER It’s utilitarian. Utilitarian is the new sexy. She looks over her shoulder at him: Huh? He shrugs. WINTER (CONT’D) Walk me out. CUT TO: INT.