“The Opening Bell”
from Daniel F. Sullivan and John Nuckel
The script so far
More released weekly
THE OPENING BELL – Final Draft
By Daniel F. Sullivan
EXT. QUINN’S OLD TYME TAVERN – PHILADELPHIA – DAY
A dive Irish bar tucked away in the cramped and crooked streets of downtown Philadelphia.
JACK FARRELL (O.S)
Another Jamo, Sir Quinn.
INT. QUINN’S OLD TYME TAVERN – PHILADELPHIA
A medium-built 42 year old, wearing a porkpie hat, jacket and tie, chewing on a lit cigar, JACK FARRELL is at the bar.
Behind him is a buffet with corned-beef simmering in trays under bright lights. Jack sits on an uneven, wobbling bar
stool. At first he tries to correct it by shifting the stool position. After that doesn’t work he moves to another stool,
which also wobbles. Finally he gives up and intentionally rocks back and forth on the stool, enjoying it.
QUINN, a black bartender, early 40s, ex college football player, approaches.
QUINN
What’ll it be, Jack?
JACK FARRELL
A new barstool.
QUINN
Sorry, don’t have any in stock. Youmight try sitting on another.
JACK FARRELL
I did already. Just wondering where my tip money goes to. You can’t buya decent stool for once?
QUINN
Sounds like Unhappy Hour. Time for Jack to start busting balls.
JACK FARRELL
Shot of Jamo, my friend.
Quinn pours Jack a shot of Jameson. The TV above the bar is showing a rebroadcast of the news from the night before, the 1976 Democratic National Convention, Governor Carter delivering his acceptance speech as the Democratic presidential nominee.
JIMMY CARTER
(on TV)
With this kind of united Democratic Party, we are ready and eager to take on the Republicans, whichever Republican party they decide to send against us in November.
JACK FARRELL
(mutters, as he downs his shot)
Bullsh*t.
JIMMY CARTER
(on TV)
Nineteen seventy-six will not be a year of politics as usual. It can be a year of inspiration and hope, and it will be a year of concern, of quiet and sober reassessment of our nation’s character and purpose.
JACK FARRELL
Goddamn peanut farmer. Can you believe this garbage?
JIMMY CARTER
(on TV)
And I guarantee you that it will be the year when we give the government of this country back to the people of this country.
QUINN
(turns down TV volume)
He’s a nuclear engineer, Jack. Pretty smart, if you ask me.
JACK FARRELL
All politicians are the same. I don’t give a damn if he’s a nuke engineer or a ditch digger.
(puts his glass out for a refill)
QUINN
Jack, my good friend, you’ve had enough.
JACK FARRELL
Yes, I’ve had enough of this bullsh*t.
(points to the TV screen with his empty shot)
About time we elect someone with balls.
QUINN
You’re right, Jack. How’s the family?
JACK FARRELL
Don’t change the subject on me.
QUINN
I’m not, I’m just asking. How’s your daughter? Haven’t seen her for a while.
JACK FARRELL
She’s on a sophomore semester abroad at University College London, for mathematics. I couldn’t be more proud of her. One of these days she’s gonna take the Philly floor and turn it upside down.
QUINN
Like you, huh Jack?
JACK FARRELL
Oh, better than me. Mark my words. Micki Farrell is going to take the industry by storm. She’ll be the Queen of the Market. You’ll see …
PUSH IN ECU on Jack’s eyes, which are lit-up, from booze perhaps, or from exuberance and pride about his daughter. As we watch they seem to widen with clairvoyance, as if he was looking into the future….
SMASH CUT TO:
ECU on another set of Eyes, and as we ZOOM out we see…
CLOSE ON MICKI FARRELL
A young black woman. Her eyes are inflamed, passionate and intensely focused on something. As we ZOOM OUT further…
INT. – THE FLOOR OF THE CHICAGO BOARD OPTIONS EXCHANGE – DAY
BOOM!
A piercing bell sounds. It’s the Opening Bell in the S&P 500
Pit.
TITLE: 2004
There is pandemonium in the pit as traders push, shove and shout, jockeying for position. Micki is deep in the crowd, defending her space, surrounded by men twice her size. She is 40 years old, wears a pair of gold half-rim eyeglasses with a glittering gold lanyard, and an orange and black jacket with trading sheets in her pocket and in her right hand her buy @ sell tickets, like most everyone else. Unlike everyone else, her jacket is trim, fits her nicely and looks stylish. Despite the work uniform, she is clearly attractive and fit. Micki is shouting and shoving along with the others but she stands out as a super confident player and a woman. And yet, no one on the floor gives her quarter. She is one of them, a warrior and it is a daily battle to hold her ground. Although the chaos of the floor makes it hard to actually tell what is going on, it appears that she is making a trade with a fellow market maker. She then looks across the floor and shakes her head with disappointment at…
CLOSE ON BOBBY
A very young black man, mid-twenties. He is Micki’s clerk. He is inhaling a cheesesteak hoagie. He sees Micki signaling him to come over. He doesn’t quite know what to do with the sandwich but quickly shoves it into his pocket. He runs out onto the floor, meets Micki.
BOBBY
Yes Mam.
MICKI
Where have you been! I’ve been looking all over for you!
BOBBY
Sorry, I was hungry.
MICKI
We’re all hungry. You know the rules, no eating on the floor. Go check this trade. I just bought 100 of the December 100 calls at 9.
She hands him a trading ticket. He wipes his hands on his pants and takes it.
BOBBY
(half-swallowing his food)
Umm, uh yeah. Gotcha.
He runs off. Micki shakes her head and with one eye following Bobby and the other in the crowd as she makes another trade.
We follow Bobby weaving and dodging his way through the crowd, he shoves the ticket into his pocket. Suddenly a loud roar erupts. An order is announced in the pit. Bobby gets swallowed in the mayhem of traders rushing over to the broker who made the announcement. He almost ends up being knocked to the ground. He regains his balance, notices another clerk waving to him, pointing to his phone, which is blinking. He goes over and picks up then looks around to make sure no one notices he takes the sandwich out of his pocket and takes a bite. He doesn’t notice that the ticket Micki gave him is stuck to the backside of the sandwich. It lingers there for a moment, dangling on a spit of oozing cheese, then it drops to the ground. A passing clerk steps on the ticket and it sticks to the bottom of his shoe. The passing clerk and the ticket are gone.
INT. CERES CAFE – DOWNTOWN CHICAGO EARLY EVENING
Located in the North lobby of the Historic Chicago Board of Trade Building, the cafe is bustling with activity, mostly men still in trading jackets, slamming drinks and talking as if they’re still in the pits, reminiscing about the trading day. Micki enters, full of fury. She hardly acknowledges coworkers and colleagues who greet her. She approaches a corner booth occupied by SEAN FARRELL, a big broad-shouldered broker in his late forties; CONNOR FARRELL, a quiet, modest, educated man in his early fifties and JACK JR FARRELL, 44 years old, gregarious and good looking. They are all white men, so when Micki approaches, it comes as some surprise when she says:
MICKI
Hello big brothers.
The men reply: “Hello Sis” and “What’s up Mick,” very casual and familiar. Micki hugs them one by one as Sean stands and she slips into the booth between him and Connor.
SEAN
What’s shaking, Mick?
JACK JR
Looks like you got stood up again by Mr. Wrong.
CONNOR
Or you got caught on the other side of a sh*tty trade.
MICKI
Wrong Junior. Right Connor.
(hailing a passing Waiter)
Charlie, my usual please.
The Waiter nods and scurries off.
SEAN
So what happened?
MICKI
I fired Bobby Holland.
JACK JR
About time.
SEAN
What he do this time?
MICKI
He didn’t check a trade and now I’m hung on a hundred lot.
JACK JR
How much is it going to cost you?
MICKI
Six thousand. Not the end of the world. Bottom line, it should have never happened.
The brothers all agree, at the same time there is a sudden roar at the bar. They look over and a handful of traders are raising shots, birthday toasting the only woman sitting at the bar.
SEAN
Who was on the other side of the trade?
MICKI
Nadler.
SEAN
Shit, don’t sweat it, Sis. He’s a good man. He’ll let you out of the trade. If not remind him I know where he lives.
The Waiter serves Micki her drink, it’s a tall glass, a Hurricane. She sucks it down.
JACK JR
Whoa Sis, slow down.
MICKI
(swallows hard)
Boys, I need some advice and support.
SEAN
Shoot.
MICKI
I wanna get out.
(off their reaction)
Off the floor. I’ve had enough.
The brothers are surprised, and speechless, while looking at one another…
JACK JR
This will be a shocker to dad.
MICKI
No, I don’t want to get out of the industry. I just need to get out of the pit. I’m tired of the smell of it, the taste of it. I’ve got voices screaming in my head in the middle of the night
(her voice rising in volume)
Quarter bid at thirty five! I’ve got fifty at eighty! I’ll sell you ten at twenty! TAKE’EM SOLD!”
She slams her drink to the table. The entire cafe goes dead silent. All eyes are on Micki. She has just made a scene. Her brothers are mortified, except for Jack Jr. who stands and applauds her.
JACK JR.
Bravo!
A few other diners at other tables also stand and applaud.
Someone else yells out “Take’em!” Another one screams “SOLD!”
The room erupts in laughter. The drinking traders at the bar get another round and raise their glasses to Micki. The place goes nuts.
SEAN
(the voice of reason)
Okay, okay. Junior, sit the f*ck down.
Jack sits. The room calms down. Micki’s hands are shaking. She’s nervous.
MICKI
C’mon guys, you know the score, electronic trading is going to make us all obsolete. I don’t want to wait until they pull the plug on us. I want to get out.
SEAN
You wanna open that hedge fund you been talking about.
MICKI
Yes, and I’ve got a backer.
(off their stunned looks)
I’m going back to Philly.
JACK JR.
What? Who’s the backer?
SEAN
Gus Balint?
MICKI
Nope, no more two-dollar brokers for this girl.
The brothers all laugh. They all know Gus too well.
CONNOR
Steve Burnett?
MICKI
Connor, you’ve always been the smart one in the family.
(off his inquiring look)
Bingo. Steve Burnett.
JACK JR.
(impressed)
No sh*t. My very first boss.
Sean is not so impressed. In fact, he’s a bit ticked off.
SEAN
Jeez, Mick, why Burnett? Why you going back to Philly?
MICKI
Gotta be close to the money.
JACK JR
When?
MICKI
Soon. I already trademarked a name for the fund.
(off their collective inquiring looks)
The Bushkill Group.
The brothers now look confused and concerned, as if Micki has gone off the deep end. Except for Jack Jr…
JACK JR.
Wasn’t that the name of Patrick’s rock band?
MICKI
That’s right. I want to pay homage to our little brother. Respect and cherish his memory.
Micki dabs her eyes with a napkin, holding back tears, then takes another gulp of the Hurricane.
JACK JR
I think it’s a great idea, Sis. We’re all going to be replaced by computers. I say f*ck’em all.
CONNOR
I agree. A hedge fund is a very good idea.
Sean hasn’t said anything. Micki looks at him.
MICKI
Sean, what do you think?
SEAN
(shakes his head)
Honestly? I think it’s a bad idea.
MICKI
Okay. What? Why?
SEAN
I don’t know what, but here’s why. You’re an awesome options trader. You’re one of the best in the S&P pit. Better than anyone I know.
You can make a shit load of money before they close us down. Why give that up?
MICKI
It’s a big break, Sean. Burnett’s one of the wealthiest men in the world.
SEAN
I understand, but why are you leaving mom and dad?
MICKI
Cmon Sean, don’t throw that guilt trip at me. That’s not fair.
SEAN
Okay, whatever. Just don’t ask me to deliver the news to them.
MICKI
I’m not asking you to do that. I’ll do it myself.
(takes a sip of her drink)
Look, I’ve given this a lot of thought. This is something I’m going to do. I’m just asking you to understand and support me. I love you guys. I have to do this.
The Farrell brothers take this in, in silence, mixed emotions. It’s serious. It’s family.
INT. NORTHSIDE CHICAGO APARTMENT – BEDROOM – NIGHT
A room of glass overlooking Lake Michigan. Everything is white – walls, furniture and a big four poster bed. Micki is lying in it, half naked, under a blanket. A pale body lies next to her, DONNIE JACKSON, around 50 years old, an older white man but in tip-top shape, athletic, chiseled and handsome. He turns over and burrows his face into her cleavage. She stirs.
MICKI
Donnie?
DONNIE
Yes.
MICKI
Do you think I’m making the right decision?
Donnie takes a deep breath, considers her question.
DONNIE
Starting a hedge fund is no joke. It’s risky. The competition is fierce. Especially for a woman.
MICKI
Extra especially for a black woman.
DONNIE
Yup, extra especially for a black woman.
MICKI
I get that. But think about it – I’ve been navigating financial markets for years now. I’ve got a knack for it, and I’m not afraid to take calculated risks.
DONNIE
True, you got skills. But, starting a hedge fund involves a lot more than just trading.
Losing interest in shop talk, Donnie rolls on top of Micki and starts kissing her neck. She giggles, she’s obviously ticklish.
MICKI
So what’s your OKCupid schedule like tomorrow, Donnie?
DONNIE
Cut it out.
MICKI
Seriously, let me know I wanna work around it.
DONNIE
I am not on OKCupid anymore. Since I met you.
MICKI
Right. So you said. I’m not either.
DONNIE
Right. So you said.
MICKI
Donnie, why are you such an ass sometimes?
DONNIE
Aren’t all brokers assholes? It comes with the territory, no?
MICKI
My father’s not an ass.
DONNIE
Speaking of your dad.
MICKI
Nevermind, I’d rather not.
DONNIE
You brought him up. And your mother.
MICKI
(pushes him away)
Stop right there.
DONNIE
You promised, one day you said you’d explain how you became a Farrell. One of the fighting Irish Farrells.
MICKI
Now’s not the time.
DONNIE
Good a time as any.
MICKI
Why are you so curious?
DONNIE
Well, cos it is curious. Black girl adopted by a white family. Doesn’t happen everyday.
MICKI
It happened a long time ago.
DONNIE
You were a baby.
MICKI
Yeah, one month old.
DONNIE
Wow. What else?
MICKI
Nothing else. That’s all there is to it.
DONNIE
Oh, come on girl, tell me more, you promised.
MICKI
Some other time, Donnie. Not now.
Please.
(off his look)
Let’s just say, it was one of those things that happened. It wasn’t my decision. But it was the best thing that ever happened to me.
DONNIE
Okay, I hear you. But I’m gonna hold you to it.
MICKI
Why does it have to be explained? Why does everybody have to know? Why can’t it just be?
DONNIE
Because it’s different. You’re different.
MICKI
(defensive)
What do you mean?
DONNIE
You’re special. You know that don’t you? You’re a special woman. Rare. One of a kind. And that’s why I dig you so much.
Micki smiles, he’s flattering her. She knows it, but she can’t help appreciating the compliments, the attention.
MICKI
Okay Mister Barry White, you can cut the charm offensive.
DONNIE
(mimicking Barry White)
Can’t get enough of your love baby…
MICKI
(laughs)
Stop!
She slaps him affectionately. He embraces her, they wrestle playfully, and naturally their frisky bed frolick turns sexual…
CUT
INT. THERAPISTS OUTER OFFICE – DAY
Sign on the door reads, Dr. Shahina Malaika Addae PHD.
DR. ADDAE (O.S)
Late again.
INT. THERAPISTS OFFICE – CONTINUOUS
Dr Addae is dressed in a hijab, colorful kaftan and sandals. She sits in a chair, a bit haughty. Micki sits opposite her on a plush couch.
MICKI
The story of my life.
DR ADDAE
Let’s start today with the story of your life.
MICKI
Again?
DR ADDAE
Yes, and I’ll explain why.
MICKI
What, starting with today?
DR ADDAE
No, not today, go back, all the way back.
MICKI
All the way?
DR ADDAE
Yes, let me help you.
(takes a breath)
This beautiful baby black girl abandoned by her mother,
DR ADDAE (CONT’D)
in an orphanage. A white mother looking for a white child falls in love with the little black baby, and after much encouragement from the adoption agency, the white family takes her home.
MICKI
Yes, that would be me.
DR ADDAE
What’s missing in this story of your life?
MICKI
A lot, actually.
DR ADDAE
Yes, indeed. We’ve been searching for your birth mother all these years. Haven’t we? Psychologically as well as physically, correct?
MICKI
Yes.
DR ADDAE
Who have we forgotten?
Micki ponders the question a few beats.
MICKI
My father?
DR ADDAE
Of course, your birth father.
(Micki nods)
The fog of adoption is thick in you, Micki. You do not know who you are yet, nor where you stand. Why?
MICKI
My father.
DR ADDAE
Yes. You need to consider him.
MICKI
Are you saying I have a father complex?
DR ADDAE
In a sense, yes. You’ve been focusing on your birth mother, while leaving your father behind, in the gloom.
Micki breathes deep, taking this in.
MICKI
But I thought you said it was the separation from my mother that was so critical. Didn’t you say, my avoidant attachment style was based on the loss of my birth mother?
DR ADDAE
Yes, largely, but at this point in your life, you need a balance. In order to build your attachment security and to repair it, we need to enhance the attachment promoting qualities and imagery of both parent figures.
MICKI
This is so confusing. How can I have an image of my birth parents if I’ve never even met them?
DR ADDAE
That’s the challenge.
MICKI
But what about my dad?
DR ADDAE
Jack?
MICKI
Yes, I’ve got a great image of him and my mom.
DR ADDAE
Of course you do. But that’s not why you’re here. You are here to penetrate the fog.
MICKI
Right.
Micki sinks into the couch, sighing deeply, full of resignation. This stuff is hard…
FADE OUT TO:
Stay tuned for the rest of the script of The Opening Bell.
Stay tuned for the rest of the script of The Opening Bell.
Contact the author and JLN
Meet Daniel Sullivan and John Nuckel the writters behind our first Audition “The Front Runner”.
Daniel F. Sullivan
Chief Executive Officer – Mogator Media Capital
Daniel F. Sullivan is a seasoned professional with over 20 years of experience working on trading floors. He has worked on notable exchanges such as the PHLX, CBO, CBOT, and CHX.
Starting as a runner and clerk, Danny quickly advanced in his career and became a well-loved figure among his peers. He was recruited by Jeff Yass to join Philadelphia Trading, which later became Susquehanna International Group.
Danny later founded his own brokerage firm, DF Sullivan & Company, and joined HTG Capital Partners in 2008. Currently, he is involved in the entertainment industry as an independent producer, combining his financial expertise with his creativity.
John Nuckel
Writer – Producer – Mogator Media Capital
John Nuckel worked on the American Stock Exchange from 1984-2001. He was a clerk, a broker and a specialist. Since leaving the floor six novels.
His first novel, The Vig was a commercial and critical success. The sequels to the Vig were GRIT and Blind Trust. They make up The Rector Street financial thriller trilogy.
John’s Volunteer series. Drive, Harlem Rhapsody and Dakota are New York City based historical fiction. Harlem Rhapsody was an Amazon best seller upon its release.
He’s written two short stories. The Garden and The Victory Grill. The Victory Grill has been adapted to a short film titled Seeking Comfort.
John has been published in the New York Times; business insider.com, the Martha’s Vineyard Times and other publications.
Disclaimer: This script and all related content, including but not limited to dialogue, characters, and plot, are the sole property of Mogator Meda Capital and are protected under applicable copyright laws. This work has been registered with the Writers Guild of America (WGA) and/or the United States Copyright Office at the Library of Congress. Unauthorized use, reproduction, distribution, or adaptation of this material without express written consent is strictly prohibited and may result in legal action.
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