[Starts on a black screen]

JACK (V.O.): People were always asking me, did I know Tyler Durden.

[Fades in to the social room, top floor of a high rise building at night. Tyler has one arm around Jack's shoulder; the other hand holds a handgun with the barrel lodged in Jack’s mouth. Tyler is sitting in Jack's lap. They are both sweating and disheveled, both around 30; Tyler is blond, handsome; and Jack, brunette, is appealing in a dry sort of way. Tyler looks at his watch.]

TYLER: One minute. *looking out window* This is the beginning. We're at ground zero. Maybe you should say a few words, to mark the occasion.

JACK: ... i... ann....iinn.. ff....nnyin...

JACK (V.O.): With a gun barrel between your teeth, you only speak in vowels.

[Jack tongues the barrel to the side of his mouth]

JACK: *still distorted* I can't think of anything.

JACK (V.O.): With my tongue, I can feel the rifling in the barrel. For a second, I totally forgot about Tyler's whole controlled demolition thing and I wondered how clean this gun is.

[Tyler checks his watch]

Tyler: It's getting exciting now.

JACK (V.O.): That old saying, how you always hurt the one you love, well, it works both way.

[Jack turns so that he can see down -- 31 STORIES]

JACK (V.O.): We have front row seats for this Theater of Mass Destruction. The Demolitions Committee of Project Mayhem wrapped the foundation columns of ten buildings with blasting gelatin. In two minutes, primary charges will blow base charges, and those buildings will be reduced to smoldering rubble. I know this because Tyler knows this.

Tyler: Look what we've accomplised. *checks watch* Thirty seconds.

JACK (V.O.): Somehow, I realize all of this -- the gun, the bombs, the revolution -- is really about Marla Singer.

CUT TO: Interior Church Meeting Room

[Jack's face is pressed against two large breasts that belong to...Bob, 45, a moose of a man. Jack is engulfed by Bob in an intense embrace. Bob weeps openly.]

JACK (V.O.): Bob had bitch tits.

[Men are paired off, hugging, talking in emotional tones. Near the door, a sign on a stand: "Remaining men together."]

JACK (V.O.): This was a support group for men with testicular cancer. The big moosie slobbering all over me was Bob.

BOB: We're still men.

JACK: Yes. We're men. Men is what we are.

JACK (V.O.): Six months ago, Bob's testicles were removed. Then hormone therapy. He developed bitch tits because his testosterone was too high and his body upped the estrogen. That was where my head fit -- into his huge, sweating tits that hung enormous, the way we think of God's as big.

BOB: They're gonna have to open my pec's again to drain the fluid.

[Bob hugs tighter; then looks with empathy into Jack's eyes.]

BOB: Okay. You cry now.

[Jack looks at Bob.]

JACK (V.O.): Wait. Back up. Let me start earlier.

CUT TO: Interior Jack's Bedroom

[Jack lies in bed, staring at the ceiling.]

JACK (V.O.): For six months. I could not sleep.

CUT TO: Interior Copy Room

[Jack, sleepy, stands over a copy machine. His Starbucks cup sits on the lid, moving back and forth as the machine copies.]

JACK (V.O.): With insomnia, nothing is real. Everything is far away. Everything is a copy of a copy of a copy.

[Other people make copies, all with Starbucks cups, sipping.
Jack picks up his cup and his copies and leaves.]

CUT TO: Interior Jack's Office

[Jack, sipping, stares blankly at a Starbucks bag on the
floor, full of newspapers and fast food garbage.]

JACK (V.O.): When deep space exploration ramps up, it will be corporations that name everything. The IBM Stellar Sphere. The Philip Morris Galaxy. Planet Starbucks.

[Jack looks up as a pudgy man, Jack's boss, enters, Starbucks
cup in hand, and slides a stack of reports on Jack's desk.]

BOSS: I'm going to need you out-of-town a little more this week. We've got some "red-flags" to cover.

JACK (V.O.): It must've been Tuesday. he was wearing his "cornflower-blue" tie.

JACK: *listless management speak* You want me to de-prioritize my current reports until you advise of a status upgrade?

BOSS: You need to make these your primary "action items."

JACK (V.O.): He was full of pep. Must've had his grande latte enema.

BOSS: Here are your flight coupons. Call me from the road if there are any snags. Your itinerary...

[Jack hides a yawn, pretends to listen.]

CUT TO: Interior Bathroom in Jack’s Condo

[Jack sits on the toilet, cordless phone to his ear, flips through an IKEA catalog. There's a stack of old Playboy magazines and other catalogs nearby.]

JACK (V.O.): Like everyone else, I had become a slave to the IKEA nesting instinct.

JACK: *into phone* Yes. I'd like to order the Erika Pekkari slip covers.

[Jack drops the open catalog on the floor.]

JACK (V.O.): If I saw something like clever coffee table sin the shape of a yin and yang, I had to have it. Like the Johanneshov armchair in the Strinne green stripe pattern...

CUT TO: Interior Living RoomDining Area/Kitchen

[The armchair appears. Pan over next to armchair…]

JACK (V.O.): Or the Rislampa wire lamps of environmentally-friendly unbleached
paper.

[The lamps appear. Pan over to wall…]

JACK (V.O.): Even the Vild hall clock of galvanized steel, resting on the Klipsk shelving unit.

[The clock appears as the shelving unit appears on the wall.]

JACK (V.O.): I would flip through catalogs and wonder, "What kind of dining set defines me as a person?" We used to read pornography. Now it was the Horchow Collection.

[A dining room set Appears. Jack, the cordless phone still glued to his ear, walks into frame and continues.]

JACK: No, I don't want Cobalt. Oh, that sounds nice. Apricot.

[Jack opens a cabinet, takes out a plate.]

JACK (V.O.): I had it all. Even the glass dishes with tiny bubbles and imperfections, proof they were crafted by the honest, simple, hard-working indigenous peoples of wherever.

[He rummages through the refrigerator. It's practically empty. Jack takes out a jar of mustard, opens it and uses a butter knife to eat it.]

CUT TO: Interior Doctor’s Office

[Jack, eyes puffy, face pale, sits before an intern, who studies him with bemusement.]

INTERN: No, you can't die of insomnia.

JACK: Maybe I died already. Look at my face.

INTERN: You need to lighten up.

JACK: Can't you give me something?

JACK (V.O.): Red-and-blue Tuinal, lipstick-red Seconals.

INTERN: You need healthy, natural sleep. Chew valerian root and get some more exercise.

[The Intern ushes Jack to the door. They step into the hallway. The Intern walks away from Jack, picks up a chart.]

JACK: I'm in pain.

INTERN: *facetious* You want to see pain? Swing by First Methodist Tuesday nights. See the guys with testicular cancer. That's pain.

[The Intern moves into the other room. Jack stares after him.]

CUT TO: Exterior First Methodist Church

[Jack heads for the front door.]

[Jack stares at a group of men, including Bob, who are all listening to a group member speak at a lectern. The speaker has pale skin and sunken eyes -- he's clearly dying.]

SPEAKER: I... wanted three kids. Two boys and a girl. Mindy wanted two girls and one boy. We never could agree on anything.

[The Speaker cracks a sad smile. Some men chuckle, happy to lighten the mood.]

SPEAKER:
Well, she had her first child a month
ago, a girl, with her new husband...
And, Thank God. I'm glad for her,
because she deserves...

The speaker breaks down, WEEPS UNCONTROLLABLY.

Jack watches. A couple of the men go up to the speaker,
comforting him, leading him away. A LEADER takes the stand.

LEADER:
Everyone, let's thank Thomas for
sharing himself with us.

Jack, uncomfortable, joins EVERYONE ELSE:

EVERYONE:
(in unison)
Thank you, Thomas.

LEADER:
I look around this room and I see a
lot of courage. And it gives me
strength. We give each other
strength.

Jack looks around. Many of the men are sniffling, sobbing.
Jack squirms in his seat.

LEADER:
It's time for the one-on-one. Let's
follow Thomas's example and open
ourselves.

Everyone gets out of their chairs and begins pairing-off.
Jack stands, uncomfortable.

LEADER:
Can everyone find a partner?

Bob, his chin down on his chest, starts toward Jack,
shuffling his feet.

JACK (V.O.):
The big moosie, his eyes already
shrink-wrapped in tears. Knees
together, invisible steps.

Bob takes Jack into an embrace.

JACK (V.O.):
Bob was a champion bodybuilder. You
know that chest expansion program you
see on TV? That was his idea.

BOB:
...using steroids. I was a juicer.
Diabonol, then, Wisterol -- it's for
racehorses, for Christsake. Now I'm
bankrupt, divorced, my two grown kids
won't return my calls...

JACK (V.O.):
Strangers with this kind of honesty
make me go a big rubbery one.

Bob breaks into sobbing, putting his head on Jack's shoulder
and completely covering Jack's face. After a long beat of
crying, Bob raises up his head, looks at Jack's NAMETAG.

BOB:
Go ahead, Cornelius. You can cry.

They look at each other. Slowly, Jack's eyes grow wet.

JACK (V.O.):
Then... something happened. I was
lost in oblivion -- dark and silent
and complete.

Bob pulls Jack's head back into his chest. Jack tightens
his arms around Bob.

JACK (V.O.):
I found freedom. Losing all hope was
freedom.

Jack pulls away from Bob. On Bob's chest, there's a WET
MASK of Jack's face from how he looks weeping.

JACK (V.O.):
Babies don't sleep this well.

INT. JACK'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Jack lies sound asleep.

JACK (V.O.):
I became addicted.

INT. SMALL PROTESTANT CHURCH - NIGHT

Jack moves into a "group hug" of sickly people, men and
women. In view is a sign by the door "Free and Clear."

INT. OFFICE BUILDING BASEMENT - NIGHT

Jack stands with a weeping middle-aged WOMAN. He begins to
cry along with her. A sign by the door: "Onward and Upward."

JACK (V.O.):
If I didn't say anything, people
assumed the worst. They cried
harder. I cried harder.

INT. PUBLIC BUILDING CONFERENCE ROOM - NIGHT

Everyone, including Jack, sits back in their seats, EYES
CLOSED. The Leader speaks into a microphone.

LEADER:
Tonight, we're going to open the
green door -- the heart chakra...

JACK (V.O.):
I wasn't really dying, I wasn't host
to cancer or parasites; I was the
warm little center that the life of
this world crowded around.

LEADER:
...And you open the door and you
step inside. We're inside our
hearts. Now, imaging your pain as a
white ball of healing light. That's
right, the pain itself is a ball of
healing light.

Jack, eyes closed, is silent...

LEADER:
It moves over your body, healing you.
Keep this going and step forward,
through the back door of the room.
Where does it lead? To your cave.
Step forward into your cave.

INT. CAVE - JACK'S IMAGINATION

Jack walks along, moving through an ICE CAVERN...

LEADER'S VOICE:
That's right. You're going deeper
into your cave. And you're going to
find your power animal...

Jack comes upon a PENGUIN. The penguin looks at him, cocks
his head to signal Jack forward.

PENGUIN
Slide.

The penguin jumps onto a patch of ICE and slides away.

EXT. STREET - NIGHT

Jack walks out a doorway, saying goodbye to people. He
walks down the sidewalk, shining with peace.

JACK (V.O.):
Every evening I died and every
evening I was born again. Resurrected.

CUT BACK TO:

INT. FIRST METHODIST CHURCH MEETING ROOM - RESUMING

Jack's still in an embrace with Bob.

JACK (V.O.):
Bob loved me because he thought my
testicles were removed too. Being
there, my face against his tits,
ready to cry -- this was my vacation.

MARLA SINGER enters. She has short matte black hair and
big, dark eyes like a character from japanese animation.

JACK (V.O.):
And, she ruined everything.

Marla looks around, raises a cigarette to her lips.

MARLA
This is cancer, right?

Bob and Jack stare, dumbfounded.

INT. FIRST METHODIST CHURCH MEETING ROOM - LATER

Everyone paired-off. MOVE THROUGH ROOM... FIND JACK'S FACE
as he stares... MOVE THROUGH ROOM... FIND MARLA'S FACE.
She's drinking coffee, smoking a cigarette.

JACK (V.O.):
This ... chick ... Marla Singer ...
did not have testicular cancer. She
was a liar.

INT. SMALL PROTESTANT CHURCH - NIGHT

Marla sits with the group, smoking, listening intently while
a member speaks. Jack spies on her.

JACK (V.O.):
She had no diseases at all. I had
seen her at my melanoma Monday night
group ...

INT. CATHOLIC CATHEDRAL - NIGHT

Marla sits at the end of a row, smoking. All the faces down
the row are turned toward her, incredulous...

JACK (V.O.):
... and at "Free and Clear," my blood
parasites group Thursdays.

Jack leans out further than the others, scornful.

JACK (V.O.):
-- And, again, at "Seize The Day," my
tuberculosis Friday night.

CUT BACK TO:

INT. FIRST METHODIST CHURCH MEETING ROOM - ANOTHER NIGHT

Jack watches... Marla's eyes are closed, her head on the
shoulder of the MAN she's embraced by. She opens her eyes,
catching Jack's stare. Jack looks away.

JACK (V.O.):
Marla -- the big tourist. Her lie
reflected my lie.

Marla rests her chin on the man's shoulder. Tears roll down
her cheeks. She wipes at them.

EXT. FIRST METHODIST CHURCH - NIGHT

Marla walks out, The support group's dispersing. Jack
exits amongst them. He spots Marla walking away.

JACK (V.O.):
And suddenly, I felt nothing. I
couldn't cry. So, once again, I
could not sleep.

Jack stares after Marla for a long moment. He walks away.

INT. BEDROOM - LATER

Jack, in underwear, is cross-legged on the floor, assembling
IKEA furniture, CORDLESS PHONE shouldered to his ear.

JACK:
(into phone)
No, I just can't believe that card is
declined -- Okay, okay, let me give
you a different card number.

Jack gets his wallet off the floor, pulls out another card
and, MOS over the following, he reads it into the phone.

JACK (V.O.):
Next group, after guided meditation,
after we open our chakras, when it's
time to hug, I'm going to grab that
little bitch, Marla Singer, pin her
arms against her sides and say...

INT. MEETING ROOM - NIGHT - JACK'S IMAGINATION

CLOSE ON JACK as he CLAMPS his arms around Marla.

JACK:
Marla, you liar, you big tourist. I
need this. Get out.

INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

Jack, in pajamas, stares at Home Shopping Network on his TV.

JACK (V.O.):
When you have insomnia, you're never
really asleep and you're never really
awake. I hadn't slept in four days...

INT. SMALL PROTESTANT CHURCH - NIGHT

Jack walks in and joins the crowd, looking around. People
are chattering with each other.

JACK (V.O.):
-- But, in here, in everyone, there's
the squint of a five-day headache.
Yet they forced themselves to be
positive. They never said
"parasite;" they said "agent." They
always talked about getting better.

LEADER:
Okay, everyone.

Everyone sits in chairs. Jack catches sight of Marla.

LEADER:
To open tonight's communion, Chloe
would like to say a few words.

Taking the lectern is CHLOE, a pale, sickly girl whose skin
stretches yellowish and tight over her bones. She wears a
head bondage. She clears her throat.

JACK (V.O.):
Ahh, Chloe. Chloe looked the way
Joni Mitchell's skeleton would look
if you made it smile and walk around
a party being extra nice to everyone.

CHLOE
Well, I'm still here -- but I don't
know for how long. That's as much
certainty as anyone can give me. but
I've got some good news -- I no
longer have any fear of death.

APPLAUSE from around the room.

CHLOE
But... I am in a pretty lonely place.
No one will have sex with me. I'm so
close to the end and all I want is to
get laid for the last time. I have
pornographic movies in my apartment,
and lubricants and amyl nitrate ...

The LEADER gingerly takes control of the microphone.

LEADER:
Thank you, Chloe. Everyone, let's
thank Chloe.

EVERYONE:
Thank you, Chloe.

INT. SMALL PROTESTANT CHURCH - LATER

LEADER:
Now, you're standing at the entrance
to your cave. You step inside your
cave and you walk. Keep walking.

Jack's face, eyes closed, is motionless.

JACK (V.O.):
If I did have a tumor, I'd name it
Marla. Marla...the little scratch on
the roof of your mouth that would
heal if only you could stop tonguing
it, but you can't.

LEADER:
Now, find your power animal.

INT. CAVE - JACK'S IMAGINATION

Jack finds Marla smoking a cigarette. Marla cocks her head,
indicating whe wants him to --

MARLA
Slide.

INT. SMALL PROTESTANT CHURCH - RESUMING

Jack's eyes open and turn to Marla, watching her blow smoke
rings with her eyes closed.

INT. SMALL PROTESTANT CHURCH - LATER

Everyone stands and mills about, pairing-off.

LEADER:
Pick someone special to you tonight.

Jack sees the ghastly spectre of Chloe ambling towards him.
He tries to smile. She smiles with a twisted, dying mouth.

CHLOE
Hello, Mr. Tayler.

JACK (V.O.):
I never gave my real name at support
groups.

JACK:
Hi, Chloe.

CHLOE
We've never actually talked.

Chloe's eyes are eerily bright with desperation. Jack, in
a sincere attempt at levity, chokes out:

JACK:
You look good. You ... look ... like
a pirate.

Chloe laughs, a little too much. Jack squeezes out a laugh.
Then he sees Marla, off by herself. Someone heads for her.

JACK:
Excuse me, I have to...

Jack gives a quick nod to Chloe and darts towards Marla.
Chloe watches him go.

STAY ON JACK AND MARLA as Jack CLAMPS his arms around her.
He whispers into her ear.

JACK:
We need to talk.

MARLA
Sure.

JACK:
I'm on to you. You're a faker. You
aren't dying.

MARLA
What?

JACK:
Okay, in the Sylvia Plath philosophy
way, we're all dying. But you're not
dying the way Chloe is dying.

LEADER:
Tell the other person how you feel.

JACK:
You're a tourist. I saw you at
melanoma, tuberculosis and testicular
cancer.

MARLA
And I saw you practicing this...

JACK:
Practicing what?

MARLA
Telling me off. Is it going as well
as you hoped... ?
(reads his nametag)
"... Mr. Taylor."

JACK:
I'll expose you.

MARLA
Go ahead. I'll expose you.

LEADER:
Share yourself completely.

Marla puts her head down on Jack's shoulder as if she were
crying. Jack pulls her head back up. She deadpans at him.

JACK:
Why are you doing this?

MARLA
It's cheaper than a movie, and
there's free coffee.

JACK:
These are my groups. I was here
first. I've been coming for a year.

MARLA
A year? How'd you manage that?

JACK:
Anyone who might've noticed either
died or recovered and never came back.

LEADER:
Let yourself cry.

MARLA
Why do you do it?

JACK:
I... I don't know. I guess... when
people think you're dying, they
really listen, instead...

MARLA
-- Instead of just waiting for their
turn to speak.

JACK:
Yeah.

Brief recognition between them, broken as the Leader passes.

LEADER:
Quietly, now. Share with each other.

Jack waits till the Leader's out of earshot.

JACK:
(warning)
It becomes an addiction.

MARLA
Really?

Jack sighs, then pulls back.

JACK:
Look, I can't cry with a faker
present.

MARLA
Candy-stripe a cancer ward. It's not
my problem.

JACK:
Please. Can't we do something... ?

Marla starts out of the room. Jack follows her.

LEADER:
Now, the closing prayer.

EXT. CHURCH - NIGHT - CONTINUOUS

Marla gets to the sidewalk, moving quickly along.

JACK:
We'll split up the week. You can
have lymphoma, tuberculosis and --

MARLA
You take tuberculosis. My smoking
doesn't go over at all.

JACK:
I think testicular cancer should be
no contest.

MARLA
Well, technically, I have more of a
right to be there than you. You
still have your balls.

JACK:
You're kidding.

MARLA
I don't know -- am I?

Jack follow Marla into...

INT. LAUNDROMAT - CONTINUOUS

Marla walks with authority up to an unwatched DRYER. She
takes out clothes, picks out jeans, pants and shirts.

MARLA
I'll take the parasites.

JACK:
You can't have both parasites. You
can take blood parasites --

MARLA
I want brain parasites.

JACK:
Okay. I'll take blood parasites and
organic brain dementia --

MARLA
I want that.

JACK:
You can't have the whole brain!

MARLA
So far, you have four and I only have
two!

JACK:
Then, take blood parasites. It's
yours. Now we each have three.

Marla gathers the chosen garments and heads out past Jack...

EXT. SIDEWALK - CONTINUOUS

Jack follows, bewildered.

JACK:
You... left half your clothes.

HONK! Jack starts. Marla's led him into the street with
traffic barreling down.

Marla walks on, oblivious as CARS screech to a halt, HORNS
BLARING. Jack dashes, following...

INT. THRIFT STORE - CONTINUOUS

Marla drops the pile of clothes on a counter. An old CLERK
sifts through the clothes, begins writing on a pad.

JACK:
You're selling those?

Marla steps down hard on Jack's foot. He winces in pain.

MARLA
(for the Clerk to hear)
Yes, I'm selling some chothes.

The Clerk starts to ring up the assessed amounts.

MARLA
So, we each have three -- that's six.
What about the seventh day? I want
ascending bowel cancer.

JACK (V.O.):
The girl had done her homework.

JACK:
I want ascending bowel cancer.

The Clerk gives a strange look as he hands money to Marla.

MARLA
That's your favorite, too? Tried to
slip it by me, eh?

JACK:
We'll split it. You get it the first
and third Sunday of the month.

MARLA
Deal.

They shake. Jack tries to withdraw his hand; Marla holds it.

MARLA
Looks like this is goodbye.

JACK:
Let's not make a big thing out of it.

She walks to the door, pocketing money, not looking back.

MARLA
How's this for not making a big thing?

Jack watches her go. A moment, then he follows after...

EXT. SIDEWALK - CONTINUOUS

Jack hesitates, unsure, then run/walks to catch up to her...

JACK:
Um... Marla, should we maybe exchange
numbers?

MARLA
Should we?

JACK:
In case we want to switch nights.

MARLA
I suppose.

Jack takes out a business card, writes his number on the
back, hands it to her. She takes the pen, grabs his hand
and writes her number on his palm. She walks into the
street, causing more SCREECHING and HONKING. She turns,
holds up the card.

MARLA
It doesn't have your name. Who are
you? Cornelius? Mr. Taylor? Dr.
Zaius? Any of the stupid names you
give each night?

Jack starts to answer, but the traffic noise is too loud.
Marla just shakes her head, turns, and keeps moving. A BUS
moves into view, obscuring her.

JACK (V.O.):
This is how I met Marla Singer.

INT. AIRPLANE CABIN - DAY

The plane touches down; the cabin BUMPS. Jack's eyes open.

JACK (V.O.):
You wake up at O'Hare.

INT. AIRPLANE CABIN - DAY

Jack snaps awake again, looking around, disoriented.

JACK (V.O.):
You wake up at SeaTac.

EXT. HIGHWAY - DUSK

The rear of a CRASHED CAR sticks up by the side of the road.
Jack stands, marking on a clipboard. The SUN SETS behind.

INT. AIRPORT - NIGHT

Jack stands at a gate counter. An ATTENDANT smiles at him.

ATTENDANT
Check-in for that flight doesn't
begin for another two hours, Sir.

Jack looks with blearing eyes at his watch, steps away and
looks at an overhanging CLOCK.

JACK (V.O.):
Pacific, Mountain, Central. Lose an
hour, gain an hour. This is your
life, and it's ending one minute at
a time.

INT. AIRPLANE CABIN - DAY

Jack's eyes snap open as the plane LANDS.

JACK (V.O.):
You wake up at Air Harbor
International.

INT. AIRPORT WALKWAY

Jack stands on a conveyor belt, briefcase at his feet. He
watches PEOPLE MOVING PAST on the opposite conveyor.

JACK (V.O.):
If you wake up at a different time
and in a different place, could you
wake up as a different person?

Jack misses seeing TYLER on the opposite conveyor belt.
They pass each other.

INT. AIRPLANE CABIN - IN FLIGHT - NIGHT

Jack sits next to a BUSINESSMAN. As they have idle
CONVERSATION, we MOVE IN ON Jack's tray. An ATTENDANT'S
HANDS set coffee down with a small container of cream.

JACK (V.O.):
Everywhere I travel -- tiny life.
Single-serving sugar, single-serving
cream, single pat of butter.

CUT TO:

HANDS place a dinner tray down.

JACK (V.O.):
Microwave Cordon Bleu hobby kit.

INT. HOTEL ROOM - BATHROOM - NIGHT

Jack brushes his teeth in the MIRROR.

JACK (V.O.):
Shampoo/conditioner combo. Single-
serving mouthwash, tiny bar of soap.

Jack picks up an individual, wrapped Q-TIP, looks at it. He
moves out of the bathroom into...

MAIN ROOM

Jack sits on the bed. He turns on the TV. It's tuned to
the "Sheraton Channel," shows WAITERS serving people in a
large BANQUET ROOM. Jack stops brushing his teeth, feels
something on the bed, lifts it -- a small DINNER MINT.

INT. AIRPLANE CABIN - IN FLIGHT - NIGHT

Jack sits next to a frumpy WOMAN. They chat. Jack turns to
look at his food, takes a bite. He turns back and it's...

--a BALD MAN next to him, talking. Jack takes another bite,
turns back and it's...

--a BUSINESSMAN next to him. Jack takes another bite, turns
back, and it's...

--a BUSINESS WOMAN next to him.

JACK (V.O.):
The people I meet on each flight --
they're single-serving friends.
Between take-off and landing, we have
our time together, but that's all we
get.

INT. AIRPLANE CABIN - LANDING

Jack's eyes snap open.

JACK (V.O.):
You wake up at Logan.

INT. WAREHOUSE - CONTINUOUS

A giant corrugated METAL DOOR opens.

JACK (V.O.):
On a long enough time line, the
survival rate for everyone drops to
zero.

Two TECHNICIANS lead Jack to the BURNT-OUT SHELL of a
WRECKED AUTOMOBILE. Jack sets down his briefcase, opens it
and starts to make notes on a CLIPBOARDED FORM.

JACK (V.O.):
I'm a recall coordinator. My job is
to apply the formula. It's a story
problem.

TECHNICIAN #1
Here's where the infant went through
the windshield. Three points.

JACK (V.O.):
A new car built by my company leaves
somewhere traveling at 60 miles per
hour. The rear differential locks up.

TECHNICIAN #2
The teenager's braces around the
backseat ashtray would make a good
"anti-smoking" ad.

JACK (V.O.):
The car crashes and burns with
everyone trapped inside. Now: do we
initiate a recall?

TECHNICIAN #1
The father must've been huge. See
how the fat burnt into the driver's
seat with his polyester shirt? Very
"modern art."

JACK (V.O.):
Take the number of vehicles in the
field, (A), and multiply it by the
probable rate of failure, (B), then
multiply the result by the average
out-of-court settlement, (C). A
times B times C equals X...

CUT TO:

INT. AIRPLANE CABIN - MOVING DOWN RUNWAY

Jack is speaking to the BUSINESSWOMAN next to him.

JACK:
If X is less than the cost of a
recall, we don't do one.

BUSISNESS WOMAN
Are there a lot of these kinds of
accidents?

JACK:
Oh, you wouldn't believe.

BUSINESS WOMAN
... Which... car company do you work
for?

JACK:
A major one.

Turgid silence. Jack turns to the window. He sees a
PELICAN get SUCKED into the TURBINE.

JACK (V.O.):
Every time the plane banked too
sharply on take-off or landing, I
prayed for a crash, or a mid-air
collision -- anything.

Jack's face remains bland during the following: the plane
BUCKLES -- the cabin wobbles. People panic. Masks drop.

JACK (V.O.):
No more haircuts. Nothing matters,
not even bad breath.

The side of the plane SHEARS OFF! Screaming PASSENGERS are
sucked out into the night air, flying past the quivering
wind. Magazines and other objects fly everywhere.

JACK (V.O.):
Life insurance pays off triple if you
die on a business trip.

Jack remains in his same position, same bland expression.

DING! -- the seatbelt light goes OUT. Jack SNAPS AWAKE.
EVERYTHING IS NORMAL. Some passengers get out of their
seats. From next to Jack, a VOICE we've heard before...

VOICE
There are three ways to make napalm.
One, mix equal parts of gasoline and
frozen orange juice...

Jack turns to see TYLER. Without turned to Jack, Tyler
continues:

Tyler:
Two, equal parts gasoline and diet
cola. Three, dissolve kitty-litter
in gasoline until the mixture is
thick.

JACK:
Pardon me?

Tyler turns to Jack.

JACK (V.O.):
This is how I met --

Tyler:
Tyler Durden.

Tyler offers his hand. Jack takes it.

Tyler:
You know why they have oxygen masks
on planes?

JACK:
No, supply oxygen?

Tyler:
Oxygen gets you high. In a
catastrophic emergency, we're taking
giant, panicked breaths...

Tyler grabs a safety instruction CARD from the seatback,
hands it to Jack.

Tyler:
Suddenly, we become euphoic and
docile. We accept our fate.

Tyler points to passive faces on the drawn figures.

Tyler:
Emergency water landing, 600 miles
per hour. Blank faces -- calm as
Hindu cows.

Jack laughs.

JACK:
What do you do, Tyler?

Tyler:
What do you want me to do?

JACK:
I mean -- for a living.

Tyler:
Why? So you can say, "Oh, that's
what you do." -- And be a smug little
shit about it?

Jack laughs. Tyler reaches under the seat in front of him
and lifts a BRIEFCASE.

Tyler:
You have a kind of sick desperation
in your laugh.

Jack points to his own briefcase.

JACK:
We have the same briefcase.

Tyler turns the top of his briefcase toward Jack.

Tyler:
Open it.

Jack looks at Tyler, then pops the latches and raises the
lid to reveal quaintly-wrapped bars of SOAP.

Tyler:
Soap -- the yardstick of civilization.
(reaches in his pocket)
I make and sell soap...

Tyler hands Jack his card. "THE PAPER STREET SOAP COMPANY."

Tyler:
If you were to add nitric acid to the
soap-making process, one would get
nitroglycerin. With enough soap, one
could blow up the world, if one were
so inclined.

Tyler SNAPS the briefcase shut. Jack stares.

JACK:
Tyler, you are by far the most
interesting "single-serving" friend
I've ever met.

Tyler stares back. Jack, enjoying his own chance to be
witty, leans closer to Tyler.

JACK:
You see, when you travel, everything
is small, self-contained--

Tyler:
The spork. I get it. You're very
clever.

JACK:
Thank you.

Tyler:
How's that working out for you?

JACK:
What?

Tyler:
Being clever.

JACK:
(thrown)
Well, uh... great.

Tyler:
Keep it up, then. Keep it right up.

Tyler stands, looks towards the aisle.

Tyler:
... As I squeeze past, do I give you
the ass or the crotch?

Tyler moves to the aisle, his ass toward jack, walks away...

Tyler:
We are defined by the choices we make.

Tyler goes to the curtain dividing First Class, slaps the
curtain aside and sits in an empty seat. Jack watches.

JACK (V.O.):
How I came to live with Tyler is:
airlines have this policy about
vibrating luggage.

INT. BAGGAGE CLAIM AREA - NIGHT

Utterly empty of baggage. No people except for Jack and a
SECURITY TASK FORCE MAN. The Security TFM, smirking, holds
a receiver to his ear from an official phone on the wall.

SECURITY TFM
(to Jack)
Throwers don't worry about ticking.
Modern bombs don't tick.

JACK:
Excuse me? "Throwers?"

SECURITY TFM
Baggage handlers. But when a
suitcase vibrates, the throwers have
to call the police.

JACK:
My suitcase was vibrating?

SECURITY TFM
Nine time out of ten, it's an
electric razor. But, every once in
a while ...
(whispers)
...it's a dildo. It's airline policy
not to imply ownership in the event
of a dildo. We use the indefinite
aricle: "A dildo." Never "Your
dildo."

Jack sees, through the window, Tyler, at the curb, throwing
his briefcase into the back of a shiny, red CONVERTIBLE.
Tyler leaps over the door into the driver's seat and PEELS
OUT. jack turns away, looks at the Security TFM.

In the background, a HARRIED MAN dashes after Tyler and the
convertible, SCREAMING.

JACK:
(to Security TFM)
I had everything in that bag. My
C.K. shirts... my D.K.N.Y. shoes...

SECURITY TFM
(into phone)
Yeah, uh huh... yeah?
(pause, still on phone)
Oh...

EXT. EMPTY RUNWAY

A lone SUITCASE sits on the concrete. SECURITY PERSONNEL
keep their distance. KABOOM! The suitcase explodes.

INT. BAGGAGE CLAIM AREA - RESUMING

The Security TFM, shakes his head, hangs up.

SECURITY TFM
I'm terribly sorry.

The Security TFM hands Jack a claim form. Jack snatches it,
disgusted, takes out a pen, starts filling out the form.

SECURITY TFM
You know the industry slang for
"Flight Attendant?" "Air Mattress."

INT. TAXI - MOVING - NIGHT

Along a residential street. Jack looks ahead, sees a tall,
grey, bland BUILDING on the corner.

JACK (V.O.):
Home was a condo on the fifteenth
floor of a filing cabinet for widows
and young professionals. The walls
were solid concrete. A foot of
concrete is important when your next-
door neighbor lets her hearing aid go
and has to watch game shows at full
volume...

The taxi turns a corner and Jack sees the front of the
building. A diffuse CLOUD of SMOKE wafts away from a BLOWN-
OUT SECTION of the fifteenth floor. FIRETRUCKS, POLICE CARS
and a MOB are all crowded around the lobby area.

JACK (V.O.):
-- Or when a volcanic blast of debris
that used to be your furniture and
personal effects blows out your floor-
to-ceiling windows and sails flaming
into the night.

EXT. STREET IN FRONT OF BUILDING

Jack, gaping at the sight above him, absently gives the
Cabbie money. The taxi pulls away. Jack starts toward the
building. He pushes through the fray of people, into the...

INT. LOBBY

The DOORMAN sees Jack enter, gives a sad smile, shakes his
head. Jack starts for the elevator.

DOORMAN:
There's nothing up there.

Jack presses the button. The Doorman moves next to him.

DOORMAN:
You can't go into the unit. Police
orders.

The elevator doors open. Jack hesitates. The doors close.
Jack heads out the lobby doors. The Doorman follows...

EXT. CONDO BUILDING - CONTINUOUS

Jack walks past SMOKING, CHARRED DEBRIS -- a flash of ORANGE
from the Yang table, a CLOCK FACE from the hall clock, part
of an arm from the GREEN ARMCHAIR. His feet CRUNCH glass.

JACK (V.O.):
How embarrassing.

DOORMAN:
Do you have somebody you can call?

Jack comes to his REFRIGERATOR lying on its side. He
reaches down and takes a note: "MARLA --" and a phone
number, from under a BANANA MAGNET.

CLOSE SHOT - JACK'S STOVE

Hissing.

JACK (V.O.):
The police would later tell me that
the pilot light might have gone
out... letting out just a little bit
of gas.

EXT. PAYPHONE - RESUMING

Jack gets to a PAYPHONE. The Doorman follows, watching him.

DOORMAN:
Lots of young people try to impress
the world and buy too many things.

Jack picks up the receiver, puts in a quarter. He looks at
Marla's number a long moment.

CLOSE SHOT - JACK'S ENTIRE CONDO - KITCHEN AND LIVING ROOM

The SOUND of the HISS...

JACK (V.O.):
The gas could have slowly filled the
condo. Seventeen-hundred square feet
with high ceilings, for days and days.

EXT. PAYPHONE - RESUMING

Jack replaces the receiver. He pockets Marla's number, digs out a small filofax. He flips through the pages for phone numbers and addresses. Most of the pages are blank.

DOORMAN: Many young people feel trapped and desperate.

JACK (V.O.): Then, the refrigerator's compressor could have clicked on...

[Jack looks at the Doorman. Tyler's business card falls from the Filofax. Jack catches it.]

DOORMAN: If you don't know what you want, you end up with a lot you don't.

[The Doorman walks away. Jack stares at Tyler's card.]

JACK (V.O.): If you asked me now, I couldn't tell you why I called him.

[Jack re-deposits the quarter, dials Tyler's number. It
rings... and rings and rings. Jack sighs and hangs up the
phone. A moment, then the phone rings.]

JACK: Hello?

Tyler’s Voice: Who's this?

JACK: Tyler?

Tyler’s Voice: Who's this?

JACK: Uh... I'm sorry. We met on the plane. We had the same briefcase. I'm... you know, the clever guy.

Tyler’s Voice: Oh, yeah.

JACK: I just called a second ago. There was no answer. I'm at a payphone.

Tyler’s Voice: I star-sixty-nined you. I never pick up my phone. What's up?

JACK: Well... let me see... here's the thing...