Hyphen-to-hyphen

[The scene: New York City, 6 West 25^th St. The 40/40 Club, ESPN on the screen. Owner Jay-Z sits in comfortable chair in his private room at rear of club, joined by Yankees superstar third baseman Alex Rodriguez. Both are taking a break from their celebrity charity poker tournament taking place in front of the building. Rap music blares from off-stage. Atmosphere is tense.]

Jay-Z: ...all I'm saying is...

A-Rod: I hear you, darn it!

Jay-Z: Yo, don't you fucking take that tone with me, son. I'll slap you back down to the port of Miami. You wan' try me?

A-Rod: Oh, god, no! I'm sorry, Jay! Forget I said anything.

Jay-Z: That's better. Now sit your silly ass down.

[A-Rod sits, awkwardly folds legs.]

Jay-Z: Now, as I was saying, we've got ourselves a problem here.

A-Rod: I really do know how to play poker. That's not an act. Seriously, I win money all the time. I'm going to be fine out there.

Jay-Z: Not the cards, you mother ... with you, Alex. With your image. With your public image. Maybe you noticed, but we ain't doin' very well with all that.

A-Rod: Yeah, I know.

Jay-Z: Damn right you do. The whole city knows, not to mention all your chicos back home on the island. They be laughing at you all the time. I seen 'em.

A-Rod: I was born in New York, actually.

Jay-Z: Yeah, whatever. Don't interrupt me. As I was saying, you got a major public image debacle going on, and I'm very much a part of it. [Gestures off-stage.] They know we close. They know we talk about all this shit. They know I got that counsel, that role. I'm starting to look like I can't get you up to speed, and that's reflecting poorly on my own talents, you know.

A-Rod: Well, I wouldn't ...

Jay-Z: I swear, just open your mouth again. One more time. My point is that there's some changes coming up between me and you, some very ... sizable changes. Okay?

A-Rod: Can I talk?

Jay-Z: Yes

A-Rod: Um, what kind of changes?

Jay-Z: For one thing, this it with the dual ventures and such. I ain't goin' down with a dude getting' run out of town by his own fans. That ain't me. I'm the CEO of a record company. Fuck the charities, they can have the money. I got to keep up appearances.

[Enter poker tournament host Cedric the Entertainer, who walks to wine rack and selects bottle. Walks back toward door, pauses and turns. Looks at both men, and begins to cackle loudly for 10-15 seconds, slapping thighs and stomping feet. A-Rod buries head in hands. Cedric hoots several times, composes self and departs.]

Jay-Z: Hah. That's some funny shit. Anyway, like I said, I'm cuttin' you off until you learn how to act like a damn man. Letting people get up in your face, crying in the back of the club, just watching Memph Bleek jack your chain. That's weak, dog. It's weak. We talked about this for months, how to stand up for yourself, and I don't see nothing in return. It's like you deaf or retarded or something.

A-Rod: I really like the material on the loveseat. It's chamois, right?

Jay-Z: [Sighs] Yes, Alex. Yes it is

A-Rod: Well, it's just lovely.

Jay-Z: Okay. Okay. I set up a deal last week with Scott and them. You gonna be traded to Anaheim for, for ... [Checks list in pocket.] ... some dudes named Ervin Santana and Brandon Wood. It's gonna go down like a month from now, and we can talk on the phone then. You gonna like California. Lot of, you know, colors and shit there. Lot of sun and fun. Lots of ladies. [Chuckles.]

A-Rod: It's just ... I'm not sure I'm ready to go.

Jay-Z: No. No, you ready.

A-Rod: Look, I know I've been screwing up, right? We talked about the pressure, and it's not even that any more, although Jason keeps laughing at me about the sweat stains on my Under Armor. They're all black and smelly, and Don was yelling at me during batting practice all during the playoffs. He said I smelled like John Kruk's feet.

Jay-Z: Ew.

A-Rod: But it's not the pressure any more. I figured out a way to deal with that. I don't read any newspapers, I don't listen to talk radio, and nobody talks to me about it, either. I don't go online to look at anything other than fabrics, and I have ear plugs in when I'm up to bat. I can't hear anything. I don't care about the boos.

Jay-Z: So what?

A-Rod: So, it doesn't matter about that, Jay! The bigger problem is that I still want everyone to like me. And they don't! They're not going to like me any more in Los Angeles, either. Going there won't solve anything! Plus, I'd have to find a new dry cleaner, and cancel the renovations, and fly my tailor out there all the time, and that's just a big hassle. Maurice won't fly coach either, or at least that's what Meredith tells me. He just hates the meals. Oh, and the flight attendants' outfits.

Jay-Z: You're right.

A-Rod: I am?

Jay-Z: Yeah. Nobody is gonna like you no matter where you go. I see that now.

A-Rod: Oh, it's hopeless! [Throws self onto floor.]

Jay-Z: Naw, not yet. We got one more thing to try.

A-Rod: [Looks up with watery eyes. Mascara has run.] What? What could it be?

Jay-Z: We gonna have to freak it to the other side. That's cool. We ain't tried that yet.

A-Rod: I don't understand.

Jay-Z: Look, you got to see it like this. You want everybody to like you, right? Well, if they won't do that, then you got to go in another direction. You got to make everyone respect you instead of love you. You got to ... switch it on them.

[Busta Rhymes bangs through door with glass in hand, appears drunk.]

Busta: Flipmode! Flipmode is the greatest!

Jay-Z: What did I tell you? Get the fuck out of here!

[Busta Rhymes stumbles backward, off-stage.]

Jay-Z: You got to just seem like you in complete control at all times. And you can be whatever. You can be a crazy bastard, or rude, or just come off like a straight asshole. And it's cool, because you doing something else, you giving people a different side of you. Even if they don't go with it, it's something else.

A-Rod: Do you really think that could work? [Sniffles.]

Jay-Z: Man, I don't think so. But how about this? We gonna give it one more shot here in New York.

A-Rod: Fabulous!

Jay-Z: Now, you get out there any you just do some nonsense and be a dick. I don't care. Act like you don't give a shit what anyone thinks about anything, and you gonna punch a motherfucker who looks at you funny. Go tell them reporters 'Fuck Derek Jeter' and 'I ain't goin' nowhere' and 'You gonna have to kill me first.' Be hard. Let them hate you. It's gonna be like playing a character.

A-Rod: I really think I can do it. Maurice was telling me he reminds me of this actor he knows, and that I have very similar features. And I've really always liked the theater. Remember that time we went to see 'Jersey Boys' together?

Jay-Z: You know that wasn't me. Alright, we done here. Go try something. We'll talk later.

A-Rod: Thank you sooooo much, Jay. I owe you big time.

Jay-Z: Yeah. Damn. [Pulls out Treo, calls office.] Linda. Set up an appointment for Beans to go fuck up Derek Jeter. Yeah, legs are gonna be fine. And the face, if you can. I'm trying to help Alex get his ... alright. You're the best, Linda.

A-Rod: Here we go!

[Exeunt.]