This has no effect, so Fletch backs up a few yards, take a deep breath for courage and makes a headlong running start for the fence, using his momentum to get to the top before the dog eats him. He grabs hold and scrambles wildly for the top. He makes it. Roll over. Play dead.
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This has no effect, so Fletch backs up a few yards, take a deep breath for courage and makes a headlong running start for the fence, using his momentum to get to the top before the dog eats him. He grabs hold and scrambles wildly for the top. He makes it. Roll over. Play dead. Good boy. Fletch now grabs hold of the eave on the side of the house, and very carefully pulls himself onto it. He sighs. He shakes his head.
He smashes the window with his elbow. FLETCH He climbs into the darkened house, leaving the enraged dog to run furiously around the fenced in yard that surrounds the house. From outside, he can still hear the dog snarling and barking. The dog is now outside the den window. He goes to the file cabinet and opens it. He flips through the "S" section. He pulls it. A copy of a deed. He pulls it out. So much for your three million dollar ranch.
Then he props the deed up on top of the file cabinet, and moves a lamp into position to light it. Just as he snaps his first shot, we hear a terrible crashing sound. WINDOW The murderous Doberman has made a crashing leap right through the den window, sending glass flying everywhere, and he streaks across the room to rip Fletch into bite-sized shreds.
MASTER Fletch bolts and the dog flies into the file cabinet, knocking it over, scattering all the files over the floor. Fletch dashes for the nearest door, and runs through it just as the dog slams into it.
Fletch is now holed up in the kitchen, panting to catch his breath, feeling the full course of adrenaline pumping through his terrified veins. He sees that he can get to his car by climbing through the window. But in order to get to the window he has to let go of the door, and that would allow the dog to get in. Looking around frantically, holding the door shut against the furious slamming of the dog, he reaches for and finally grabs a mop which he props under the door knob, thus keeping the door shut.
Letting go of the door gingerly, he satisfies himself that the dog cannot get in, and he makes his break for the window.
Fletch knows he has only seconds. Standing on top of the counter, he opens the door of the restaurant-sized refrigerator next to him, and just as the snarling dog bursts into the room Fletch starts hurling food at it. A pot roast, sliced turkey with stuffing, a couple of filet mignons. The dog is momentarily distracted. Fletch pours a large bucket of cranberry sauce on the dog.
With the dog temporarily vision-impaired, Fletch bolts. The dog -- having shaken off the people-food from his hateful face -- is seconds behind and closing. Fletch makes it to his car, hops inside, and slams the door just as the dog leaps furiously at the windshield.
The dog jumps across the closed window, snarling and bug-eyed with hatred. Fletch smiles, waves at the dog, and starts taking its picture with his little camera. Gimme a smile! There you go Fletch is ready to pull out, but the dog is still leaping madly at the window.
Fletch points back to the house. He is unshaven and looks beat. Fletch comes down the hall signing "Billie Jean" is an excruciating falsetto.
Hand me that extra bottle okay? Underhill has been waiting. She closes the door in his face. He starts the engine, backs out of his reserved space, and pulls out of the lot. He puts it down, starts his car, and pulls out of the lot. He gets out of his car and opens the trunk.
Tag: Fletch screenplay