Taxi Driver: Sport and Iris

CUT TO: IRIS' ROOM - DAY

Sport stands beside the bed.

SPORT: What's the matter, baby, don't you feel right?

Iris is wearing her blue-tinted shades.

IRIS: It's my stomach. I got the flu.

Sport puts his hand on her hips. He is slowly, carefully, smoothly manipulating her. It's the stone black hustle.

SPORT: Oh, baby, there ain't no flu. You know that, baby.

IRIS: Honest, Sport.

Sport puts some slow soul music on the stereo.

SPORT: You're just tired, baby. You just need your man. I am your man, you know. You are my woman. I wouldn't be nothing without you.

Sport slowly grinds his hips to hers. Iris starts to move with him. This is what she really wanted. Her man's attention.

SPORT: I know this may not mean anything to you, baby, but sometimes I get so emotional, sometimes I think, I wish every man could have what I have now, that every woman could be
loved the way I love you. I go home and I think what it would be without you, and then I thank God for you. I think to myself, man, you are so lucky. You got a woman who loves you, who needs you, a woman who keeps you strong. It's just you and me. I'm nothing without you. I can go like this for ever and ever. We can do it, baby. You and me. Just you and me.

Sport slowly rubs his crotch into her. Iris smiles. She is happy. The music rises.