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© Copyright 2003 Impious Productions. Used with permission.
The Fuhrman Confession
[ bottom ]
FADE IN
EXT. BUS STOP—DAY
The camera tracks a white feather as it slowly descends upon
the barren, ebony scalp of O.J. Simpson prosecutor, Chris
Darden. He is munching on some Oreos. He's clad Forrest Gump
style. Sitting beside him is a woman attempting to read the
paper. Darden picks up the feather curiously as he adjusts
his granny glasses, and puts it in his briefcase. He then
combs his imaginary hair before a pocket mirror, and
continues to munch on his Oreos.
DARDEN
(leans over to offer a cookie,
with a lisp)
Ma'am, would you like an Oreo?
WOMAN
No thank you.
DARDEN
My momma says I'm just like an Oreo.
Black on the outside, white on the
inside. I never knew what she meant.
WOMAN
I think she meant you're ashamed of your
African American heritage.
DARDEN
She's insane! My flaxen blonde hair and
blue eyes betray her denial!
WOMAN
What I would like though, is for you to
keep your skanky ass breath away from me.
(She continues reading the
paper, trying to ignore him.)
LAP DISSOLVE
TO:
EXT. SOUTHERN ESTATE—LATE AFTERNOON
Two parallel lanes of trees form a beautiful canopy of
foliage leading to a large white house, a former plantation.
A young Chris Darden is walking home from law school with
Marcia Clark. Darden is wearing orthopedic braces on his
legs, walking awkwardly. The town bully, a young Mark
Fuhrman, drives up in his old blue truck with a load of
friends. They start to chase Darden, and the passengers in
the back chuck rocks and garbage at him.
BULLY 1
Hey! It's that freshman retard from law
school. Don't let us catch ya man!
FUHRMAN
I just lost my job at the March of Dimes
for teasin' your cry-baby ass, and I
reckon a cripple whuppin' will just about
rectify this here injustice!
CUT TO-
CLARK
(terrified)
Run Chris! Run!
A frightened Darden runs with all his might, but is pitifully
hampered by his leg braces as the truck bears down on him.
Suddenly, in a newfound burst of energy, the braces fall off,
and he runs like a gazelle, miraculously outrunning the
truck. He looks back, the truck is stalling.
EXT. SKATING RINK
Outside a skating rink, a drunk French hockey player is about
to drive home as his friends vainly plead for him to
designate a driver. Moments later, Darden is run down by the
drunk hockey player's Zamboni as it hits speeds reaching up to 5 miles per hour.
INT. SLEAZY BAR, THE GARCETTI INN-- NIGHT
Marcia Clark, sitting butt naked on a stool playing folk
guitar, entertains the rowdy guests as Darden walks in and is
aghast. His granny glasses steam. Never had Bob Dylan ever
been so bastardized. In the meantime Marcia is attempting to
pass off as a study in dignity and grace. Her legs are
crossed, she carefully shields her breasts with her guitar as
she plays…. terribly. A SLOW PAN reveals a few celebrities in
the audience: Barbara Walters is moved to tears, throws her
panties. A tipsy Andy Rooney is on his knees before her,
bowing in homage before passing out on the floor.
MARCIA
(to Bob Dylan's "Blowin' in the
Wind")
How many times
must a man stab a heart
before it ceases to beat?
yes'm, how many times
must O.J. beat Nicole?.
before she runs down the street?
The answer my friend
is blowin' in the wind
the answer is blowin' in the wind
Darden picks her up against her will; one hand over his eyes
to so as not to see her nakedness. He forces her into the
truck and drives away…before stopping at a bridge...
DARDEN
I'm takin' you home, Marcia! We've got
school tomorrow!
MARCIA
Let me out!
EXT. BRIDGE- NIGHT
Clark exits the vehicle totally enraged. He chases the
troubled naked freak and grabs her by the arms.
DARDEN
I'm taking you home Marcia! I can't
believe you forgot your clothes again!
MARCIA
Let me go! I was just about to land a
contract with those Hard Crappy
producers, you damned fool! How dare you
embarrass me like that in front of them?
DARDEN
But we have a case tomorrow!
MARCIA
Let me go or I swear I'll kill you!
DARDEN
You're already killing me! With desire!
With an unquenchable longing whose
constant pangs are enough to make a grown
man cry…and circumcise himself!
MARCIA
(pukes on his shirt)
L-Leave me alone, or I'll make sure that
disgusting foreskin corsage you gave me
is sent to the proper authorities, and
the media!
DARDEN
See? You kept it! Don't deny your passion
for me Never again shall a Negro woman
sully my lips! Once I thought I was a
black man, so steeped in denial and white
guilt was I! But you, my sweet Hebrew
angel, you brought me to the light! Kiss
me you fool!
(Darden closes his eyes and
puckers his lips. Marcia slams
her fist into his mouth.)
MARCIA
I told you I have a boyfriend! Tammy
Bruce!
DARDEN
(hurt)
So maybe it is true. Maybe you are a
slut! Maybe our tryst under Judge Ito's
desk was not your first time!
MARCIA
(blushes crimson and slaps him)
How dare you impugn my integrity?
DARDEN
You're standing butt naked in the middle
of the street, Madonnastyle, for all to
see. Now my dog, chickens, and my
houseplants may giggle when I call myself
an attorney, granted, but you'd bring the
house down when it comes to denial.
Marcia is simmering. A high school bus full of football
players slams the brakes for a peek at Marcia's free vittles.
She leaves Darden and finds her ride home. O.S. helicopter
gunship
EXT. VIETNAM JUNGLE—DAY
It's 1967. Darden hops off a Huey to join his platoon in the
hot jungle brush, searching Charlie.
LT. DAN
Hey Darden, where's your helmet?
DARDEN
I threw it out, sir!
LT. DAN
You what?!
DARDEN
When I put it on again I realized someone
took a crap in it again, sir! I think it
was the Negroes, sir!
LT. DAN
(incredulous)
You're the only black man in this platoon
ya moron! And you want to be an attorney?
DARDEN
But that's what Fuhrman said when he gave
my helmet back to me
LT. DAN
When was that?
DARDEN
Right after he asked me for a roll of
toilet paper.
LT. DAN
Hey Fuhrman! Who crapped in the "special"
kid's helmet? You did didn't you?
Private Fuhrman is nearby, roasting marshmallows on a ten
foot burning cross. He approaches them nervously and salutes.
On his helmet he has scrawled white power and a swastika.
FUHRMAN
I must plead the fifth, sir! I refuse to
answer on the grounds I may incriminate
myself!
LT. DAN
Since you could have denied it, I'll take
that as a yes. Just for that, I'm
confiscating your Nazi polka record
collection! Dismissed! And eh, by the
way…gimmie your lunchbox.
FUHRMAN
No, please, not that…
LT. DAN
Gimmie. Now.
Fuhrman reluctantly fetches his "Hungry Hitler" lunchbox. LT.
DAN proceeds to chuck it on the ground and urinate on it.
FUHRMAN
That was an heirloom from my grandpa in
the SS! How could you?
LT. DAN
How does it feel? Not to good, does it?
Now let that be a lesson to you!
Fuhrman is devastated, and forces back the tears, lips
quivering.
DARDEN
(indignantly)
But it was the Negroes sir! Private
Fuhrman told me that a white man would
never crap in my helmet, and I believe
him!
LT. DAN
Shut up, Darden, because I find myself
hungry for a moral and justifiable excuse
to slap the shit out of a retarded man
right now….and I think this is it!
DARDEN
Yes sir.
LT. DAN
Now put some camouflage on that shiny ass
scalp of yours! That infernal glare will
give us away to the enemy, ya hear me?
EXT. JUNGLE
A Viet Cong spotter sees a bald scalp shining through the
thick jungle brush like a beacon. Immediately, Darden's
platoon is fired upon. A mortar round hits Lt. Dan and blows
off his legs. The radio man beside him is blown to bits.
Darden rushes to Lt. Dan.
DARDEN
I'll save you!
LT. DAN
Get away from me you freak, because if I
live I'm gonna court-martial your stupid
ass! This is all your fault! Do you know
how many men you've cost me? May you and
your brand new scalp buffer burn in hell,
my friend, burn in hell!!!
DARDEN
It's okay! You're gonna be alright! I'll
save you!
LT. DAN
(fighting Darden as he
struggles to lift him)
My legs! Oh my legs! Son of a bitch! My
dreams…gone now! All gone! Now I'll never
get to kick you in the face before this
war is over!
Darden picks up Lt. Dan and runs to safety.
FADE TO BLACK
FADE IN
TITLE CARD: MANY YEARS LATER....
L.A. CRIMINAL COURTS BLDG.-- DAY
INT. ITO'S COURTROOM
Marcia Clark walks up to the podium with the Sunday comics.
She prepares a cartoon to argue her next motion.
CLARK
I understand it's unusual for an attorney
to bring a newspaper to court, but
sometimes even a cartoon can be edifying.
ITO
And this cartoon will support your motion
to allow for the viewing of the autopsy
photos again?
CLARK
(earnestly)
Indeed it will. Don't let appearances
deceive you. Lizard Man is regarded by
authorities as highly cerebral material.
ITO
Please present a copy of the cartoon in
question to the defense. Proceed.
She gives the defense a copy, then puts the cartoon on a
projector as she follows the cartoon frame by frame.
(O.S. cue Samuel Barber's
"Adagio for Strings")
CLARK
In the first frame, a little boy is
watching the Simpson trial and wondering
what the forbidden "N" word is. Finally
he asks Lizard Man what it is and he says
"Nicole".
(with an overt tug at the heart
strings, she bursts into
crocodile tears; her inanities
underscored by her arms
flailing and sweeping into
air)
ITO
That cartoon is wearing thin. First it
was with the Fuhrman tapes. Now what
does this Lizard Man cartoon have to do
with the autopsy photos?
CLARK
It puts the trial in perspective on a
human level.
CUT TO
In the front row of the courtroom, Marcia has placed a STRING
SECTION from an orchestra. LS: ITO flings his GAVEL at
CONDUCTOR'S head.
ITO
(to Marcia's string section)
Will you shut up??!!!
(takes a deep breath)
Listen, Marcia, I don't want to see you
come in here with the funny pages to
argue your motions anymore; especially
when you swipe them from my paper. Buy
your own paper.
COCHRAN
Yeah, Marcia—I can assure you that your
inane and transparent motions are funny
enough as they are.
CLARK
That's totally unfair! We hear all this
whining about the defendant's right to a
fair trial. But don't the victims have
rights? The Goldmans have a right to
swim in Simpson's pool. They have a
right to take his estate even before
Simpson's guilt is determined.
Chris Darden reaches into his bag of tricks, get an onion,
splits it, and rushes over to Marcia with a yellow rubber
ducky. The prosecution lawyers huddle.
CLARK (CONT'D)
Your honor—could you give us a minute?
Chris is having trouble assembling the
tracks for his Hot Wheels...
ITO
Is this going to take forever? You know
we have a jury waiting.
CLARK
It might.
ITO
Proceed.
DARDEN
(whispers into her ears, takes
the split onion and rubs it
under Marcia's eyes)
Here—try the duck! Gloria Allred says
the duck always works for her!
(Marcia grabs the duck, still
in its original carton, and
suddenly bursts into tears.)
CLARK
I—I'm very sorry your honor! I'm
watching a dream shatter before my very
eyes...and though that dream does not
belong to me, I bleed from every pore for
the surviving victims in question.
Marcia bursts into tears and clutching the duck, she wails
like a banshee, then writhes on the floor in agony. Then she
tears out her hair and rips her clothing, climaxed when she
walks over to a potted plant and symbolically throws soil
into her face...
CLARK (CONT'D)
Forgive me for this outburst, Your Honor.
(regains some of her composure)
But just look at the duck, Your Honor!
Still in its original package. By now it
should be in O.J.'s swimming pool; in the
loving hands of Kim Goldman! But no. We
had to be sidetracked with this non-issue
like the fact that O.J. is innocent.
F. Lee Bailey immediately rises; enraged. In fact, the whole
defense table except Cochran does. They have a copy of the
same paper, and instead of "Nicole" it reads the forbidden
"N" word is "Neilsens".
COCHRAN
Objection! Move to strike that comment!
We have the same paper and it reads
differently. It's supposed to read that
the forbidden "N" word is "Neilsens"!
As in Neilsen Ratings, which is basically
what this trial has boiled down to….
ITO
Johnny, that's an insult to this court
and to our honorable, chaste, and
dignified friends at NBC, "Dateline", and
"Hard Copy".
(flashes toothy grin as he
looks into the camera)
Yes folks, check your local listings!
COCHRAN
I object!
ITO
Ahem. I digress. Council, call your first
witness.
Marcia Clark prepares to question
Mark Fuhrman on his Klanmobile's "Jew Killer" license plate.
CU: We see exhibit 23- The KLANMOBILE is a white van with a
burning cross on the roof.
The witness takes the stand as prosecutor Marcia Clark
prepares to question him.
BAILIFF
Do you swear to tell the whole truth, and
nothing but the truth, so help you God?
FUHRMAN
Silly Negro, I am God. I am truth.
BAILIFF
(shaking head)
You may take the stand.
MARCIA
Good afternoon ladies and gentle of the
jury. Good afternoon Detective Fuhrman.
(clears throat)
If you look on the monitor to your
immediate right, you will notice a
license plate on the rear of your van
that reads "Jew Killer." Does this
license plate belong to you, or was it
placed there, perhaps, by some malicious
advocate for the defendant?
CUT TO—
Defense attorney Johnny Cochran rises angrily.
COCHRAN
I object, your honor!
ITO
Sustained. Ms. Clark, please refrain from
such prejudicial speculation. Please
answer the question, Mr. Fuhrman.
FUHRMAN
Of course not. I wouldn't stick that
racist garbage on my car. Mine just says
"Aryan Power"
(suddenly grows pale, loses
composure)
I mean it says "SHALOM!" No, wait, I
don't even own a car, that's right!
MARCIA
(perplexed)
Det. Furhman, are you okay? Is something
bothering you? Did Johnny Cochran
threaten to make you his "deflowered
Aryan bitch" again?
ITO
(impatiently)
Marcia….
MARCIA
Okay, sorry…strike that last comment.
FUHRMAN
(nervous and pale, he fidgets
in his chair, and drops his
gaze)
It's the pressure. That bothers me. And
the lies. Look, I can't take this
anymore! Maybe I will tell the truth!
MARCIA
You know you don't have to do that. Just
answer the questions
FUHRMAN
I know. But I want to tell the truth.
Now is the chance for me to take a stand
for the white race.
MARCIA
You can't be a racist. I'm a Jew, Darden
is black, and we're your friends. We've
always been friends.
FUHRMAN
Oh shut up you yammering heeb. You're
both a couple of crooked-ass posers, and
I'd hate you even if you were both Aryan.
MARCIA
As you can see, ladies and gentleman of
the jury, Detective Fuhrman has a
delightful sense of humor-
FUHRMAN
First of all, I accept full
responsibility because it was my idea.
The others, like Lange and Vanatter, they
were dragged into it. Well, invited
rather.
(Fuhrman stands, points at O.J.
Simpson)
Judge Ito, you must free this man.
Whether or not he was responsible in any
way for the murders is no longer the
question here, we may never know now…and
that was the objective. I planted the
glove. I framed him. The case was ruined
from the start.
(Fuhrman slumps back into the
witness chair)
MARCIA
Your honor, I move to strike…
ITO
On what grounds?
MARCIA
He's embarrassing me.
ITO
No shit. Proceed.
FUHRMAN
I planted the glove. I called Tracie
Savage from KNBC and told her about the
blood on the socks beings Simpson's….a
week before the socks were even tested.
I framed that jigaboo out of sheer
malice, but I swear I'm not a racist!
A NETWORK EXECUTIVE shows her a chart with the lastest
Nielsen ratings. Seeing her Nielsen ratings are now in
jeopardy, MARCIA becomes desperate and quickly interrupts.
MARCIA
Your honor, I move to strike, the witness
clearly is delusional.
FUHRMAN
Oh, and I kicked his dog Kato too!!
COCHRAN
I object! The witness has just perjured
himself, exonerated Simpson, and
furthermore, admitted to cruelty to
animals! Your honor, may I approach the
bench?
ITO
Sustained. Yes, you may.
COCHRAN approaches FUHRMAN with some photographs handed to
him by F. LEE BAILEY. Cochran checks Fuhrman's shoes and
shoe size.
COCHRAN
He's not delusional! In fact, on June
13, 1995, a vet just happened to
photograph a jackboot imprint on the
dog's flank; imprints that match those on
Fuhrman's shoes this very day! We submit
that this fully explains why Kato the dog
now walks with a permanent limp.
FUHRMAN
(reviewing pictures)
It's true. That steel toe imprint is
mine The M.F. initial's—mine. I stamped
them on that mutt with a swift and well
aimed kick. But not all is lost, I think
I know the true killers.
MARCIA
And how do you know your information is
true? Where did you find them?
FUHRMAN
I was sent the bloody knives, some of
Nicole's hair, and a business card.
Would you like to see them?
MARCIA
No, we wouldn't. We know who the true
killer is. It's Mr. Simpson, wife-beating
demonic beast in the courtroom.
FUHRMAN
See, you're the one that's racist.
Simpson couldn't have done it. The
victims weren't speared or cannibalized.
COCHRAN
I object! We deeply resent that racist
comment and the one before it, but
grudgingly appreciate its impeachment
value. Please ask counsel to continue
that line of questioning.
ITO
Proceed.
FUHRMAN
Besides, there aren't any prints on the
knives. The real killers videotaped the
killing to document the hit for their
boss, and OJ wasn't in it—he was on a
plane by then. There was at least three-
one was in charge of the videotaping.
And they could afford to be sloppy
because the hit was approved by the
LAPD…and later, Garcetti.
MARCIA
Do you respect the respectable and
intelligent people of the jury to believe
that nonsense? Do you think you can fool
these noble and selfless people of the
jury?
The JURY FOREMAN is bored. He secretly grabs a pocket mirror
and aims it at Darden's shiny bald scalp to deflect the
bright camera lights. The foreman adjust the pocket mirror's
angle…
CUT TO-
And Marcia is immediately blinded. She squints and
stumbles; knocks over the court reporter.
She gets up, dusts herself, and points a bony, accusing
finger at a wall.
MARCIA (CONT'D)
(squints)
Look at the jury, Mr. Fuhrman. Don't
you know that angels walk with them in
counsel? Don't you know that they, the
honorable ladies and gentlemen of the
jury, have nothing but contempt for
liars?
The FOREMAN nods grimly, and gives her the finger. Then he
furtively takes a rubber band, rolls up a tiny piece of
paper, flattens it and forms it into a projectile. When
MARCIA is close enough and facing DARDEN near the podium,
Darden stands up to hand her some documents, and the foreman
shoots her in the butt. Assuming Darden goosed her because
of his proximity, she slaps him.
MARCIA (CONT'D)
Fresh! How dare you!
(under her breath)
Not now!
DARDEN
What the hell are you talking about?
FUHRMAN
But Marcia, did you guys see the tape of
the killers? I gave it you this morning
along with the bloody knives and
fingerprint samples from the hit men, and
I included their Interpol files,
confessions, resumes, and home and work
numbers.
SHAPIRO
(rises from the Defense table)
Your honor, we were not presented with
any of that exculpatory evidence! This
is a gross miscarriage of justice! In
the interests of common decency, please
drop the case right now and stop this
mockery of justice while we still can!
Fuhrman already confessed!
XCU: Prosecutor CHERI LEWIS reaches into her briefcase and
pulls out some files marked "INTERPOL." Meanwhile, DARDEN
quietly sets up a paper shredder under their table and gets
to work on the confessions, files. He hums loudly to drown
out the shredder, unsuccessfully of course.
ITO
Well? What did you do with evidence,
Counsel?
MARCIA
Uhhh….I'm glad you asked. Yes, Fuhrman
did give us the aforementioned tape, but
there was an unforeseen accident We sat
down to watch it…
ITO
(heaves a deep sigh)
This better be good. This just better be
good…
MARCIA
Actually, it was an accident very similar
to what happened to you. We sat down to
watch the tape and I accidentally pressed
the record button., but I can assure you,
your honor, there was absolutely no
malice intended or wrought.
Marcia goes to retrieve the video.
PAN to Darden and Cheri at the prosecution table. He leans
over to Cheri and asks her a question as she cleans the blood
off the two knives.
DARDEN
(smoothly)
Hey Cheri, Marcia told me you can't get
over my new cologne. It's called "Cruel
Ambitions" for Men.
CHERI
(puts the knives and cleaner
down, and bitterly points to
the hives and scratches on her
arms)
She's right. I can't get over the
allergic reaction its giving me. I can't
get rid of these damned hives!
DARDEN
Is that's what's bothering you? I'm here
for you, pretty baby!
Marcia finds the video and approaches the bench. She returns
to the podium.
ITO
Counsel, this is a how-to home video copy
of "Mark Fuhrman's Framing and Perjury
for Idiots."
MARCIA
No it's not!
ITO
And it's overdue at Blockbuster Video.
MARCIA.
Oh, wrong one. It's right here…
(quickly retrieves another)
Marcia approaches the bench, hands Ito the other video. He
takes a brief recess in his chamber. Then walks out.
Peeved.
ITO
Ms. Clark, please tell the court how you
managed to erase the tape from beginning
to end?
MARCIA
This happened to you with another tape in
question, your honor. It's not like
these things don't happen.
COCHRAN
I object! She erased the whole tape
without knowing it? With all due respect
your honor, this is preposterous! It was
deliberate and malicious destruction of
exculpatory evidence! You only erased a
few seconds of the audio tape wherein
Fuhrman bragged about setting up suspects
and planting weapons and drugs on them!
And you erased the copy, not the master!
ITO
(mulls it over)
Sorry, Johnny. She's got me there. A
VCR can be pretty tricky nowadays., with
all them buttons on them and stuff. My
apologies, Counsel. Proceed.
(O.S. A grinding, loud rattle.)
The sound stuns the court. The proceedings are halted.
Darden's portable paper shredder malfunctions because he
tried to shred the two bloody knives. Cheri slaps him upside
the head so hard she leaves a pale imprint of her hand.
CHERI
(seething)
You idiot! I said "I can't get rid of
these hives," not "knives"!!! What did
you think I meant?
DARDEN
(sheepishly)
What? You think I'm stupid?
ITO
Mr. Darden, what did I tell you about
beepers and paper shredders in the
courtroom?
CHERI
Your honor, Darden has a learning
disability… you'll have to…
ITO
Darden can speak for himself.
Theoretically. Now Chris, you've been
warned. Proceed.
MARCIA
Thank your honor. Mr. Fuhrman, do you
speak of your own free will and confess
to framing Simpson; or were you
blackmailed by Cochran, Douglas, and
Shapiro as they chased you down an
alleyway with chains and bats when you
refused to buy their crack?
FUHRMAN
Of my own free will. I framed him. I
took some vials from the lab and planted
the glove, and the drop on the back of
the white bundy fence. Yes, and even the
socks. That why there was no blood
spatter.
MARCIA
And the footprints?
FUHRMAN
The photos you used of Simpson were
doctored with a matte insert. I'm sure
you know that.
If they weren't, you'd have given access
to the original negatives to the defense.
You never did and will.
MARCIA
But that would make Simpson innocent of
this murder. And that cannot be. The
whole world knows that. Everyone knows
he's guilty. I know that, you know that.
FUHRMAN
Don't you understand you simp? I set him
up! There was no evidence linking
Simpson directly to the crime! If there
was, my services would never have asked
for!
MARCIA
Move to strike as non-responsive, your
honor.
ITO
Sustained.
MARCIA
Mr. Fuhrman, are you on any medication or
street drugs right now that are affecting
your cognitive abilities?
FUHRMAN
None, unless you count estrogen, which is
none of your damned business anyways!
MARCIA
So what you're telling us is that you
didn't frame Simpson.
FUHRMAN
No, you ignorant sow! I'm telling you I
did! Can't you get through your thick,
self-infatuated heeb skull?
MARCIA
I see. So let's say you're not stark
raving mad, and did frame Simpson. Does
that mean he's innocent?
FUHRMAN
Legally, yes.
The lights in the courtroom suddenly flicker and dim. To the
amazement and terror of all, two ghosts appear in front of
the jury. It's RON and NICOLE. It's a gory scene, both are
Script created with Final Draft by Final Draft, Inc.