ÿþ <HTML> <HEAD> <TITLE>Reservoir Dogs</TITLE> <meta name="Reservoir Dogs" content="Reservoir Dogs Screenplay" /> <meta name="keywords" content="Reservoir Dogs, movie, script, film, screenplay" /> <meta name="description" content="The screenplay to Reservoir Dogs" /> </HEAD> <BODY BGCOLOR="#FFFFFF" TEXT="#000000"> <BR /> <p> <BR /> </p><CENTER> <B> Quentin Tarantino's<BR /> <p> RESERVOIR DOGS<BR /> </p></B> </CENTER><p> <BR /> </p><p> <BR /> </p><p> <BR /> </p><p> <BR /> <CENTER> <B> October 22, 1990<BR /> </B> </CENTER></p><p> </p><HR WIDTH=75% /><BR /> <p> </p><CENTER> <B><BR /> This movie is dedicated to these following sources of<BR /> <p> inspiration:<BR /> </p><p> <BR /> TIMOTHY CAREY<BR /> </p><p> ROGER CORMAN<BR /> </p><p> ANDRE DeTOTH<BR /> </p><p> CHOW YUEN FAT<BR /> </p><p> JEAN LUC GODDARD<BR /> </p><p> JEAN PIERRE MELVILLE<BR /> </p><p> LAWRENCE TIERNEY<BR /> </p><p> LIONEL WHITE<BR /> </p></B> </CENTER><p> </p><HR Width="75%" /><BR /> <p> </p><p> <B>1 INT. UNCLE BOB'S PANCAKE HOUSE - MORNING<BR /> </B></p><BLOCKQUOTE><p> Eight men dressed in BLACK SUITS, sit around a table at a<BR /> breakfast cafe. They are MR. WHITE, MR. PINK, MR. BLUE,<BR /> MR. BLONDE, MR. ORANGE, MR. BROWN, NICE GUY EDDIE CABOT,<BR /> and the big boss, JOE CABOT. Most are finished eating and<BR /> are enjoying coffee and conversation. Joe flips through a<BR /> small address book. Mr. Pink is telling a long and<BR /> involved story about Madonna.<BR /> </p><p> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> MR. PINK <BR /> "Like a Virgin" is all about a<BR /> girl who digs a guy with a big<BR /> dick. The whole song is a<BR /> metaphor for big dicks.<BR /> <p> MR. BLUE<BR /> No it's not. It's about a girl<BR /> who is very vulnerable and she's<BR /> been fucked over a few times.<BR /> Then she meets some guy who's<BR /> really sensitive--<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> --Whoa...whoa...time out Greenbay.<BR /> Tell that bullshit to the<BR /> tourists.<BR /> </p><p> JOE<BR /> (looking through his<BR /> address book)<BR /> Toby...who the fuck is Toby?<BR /> Toby...Toby...think...think...<BR /> think...<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> It's not about a nice girl who<BR /> meets a sensitive boy. Now<BR /> granted that's what "True Blue" is<BR /> about, no argument about that.<BR /> </p><p> MR. ORANGE<BR /> Which one is "True Blue?"<BR /> </p><p> NICE GUY EDDIE<BR /> You don't remember "True Blue?"<BR /> That was a big ass hit for<BR /> Madonna. Shit, I don't even<BR /> follow this Tops In Pops shit, and<BR /> I've at least heard of "True<BR /> Blue."<BR /> </p><p> MR. ORANGE<BR /> Look, asshole, I didn't say I<BR /> ain't heard of it. All I asked<BR /> was how does it go? Excuse me<BR /> for not being the world's biggest<BR /> Madonna fan.<BR /> </p><p> MR. BROWN<BR /> I hate Madonna.<BR /> </p><p> MR. BLUE<BR /> I like her early stuff. You know,<BR /> "Lucky Star," "Borderline" - but<BR /> once she got into her "Papa Don't<BR /> Preach" phase, I don't know, I<BR /> tuned out.<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> Hey, fuck all that, I'm<BR /> making a point here. You're gonna<BR /> make me lose my train<BR /> of thought.<BR /> </p><p> JOE<BR /> Oh fuck, Toby's that little china<BR /> girl.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> What's that?<BR /> </p><p> JOE<BR /> I found this old address book in a<BR /> jacket I ain't worn in a coon's<BR /> age. Toby what? What the fuck<BR /> was her last name?<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> Where was I?<BR /> </p><p> MR. ORANGE<BR /> You said "True Blue" was about a<BR /> nice girl who finds a sensitive<BR /> fella. But "Like a Virgin" was a<BR /> metaphor for big dicks.<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> Let me tell ya what "Like a<BR /> Virgin"'s about. It's about some<BR /> cooze who's a regular fuck<BR /> machine.<BR /> I mean all the time, morning, day,<BR /> night, afternoon, dick, dick,<BR /> dick, dick, dick,<BR /> dick, dick, dick, dick, dick,<BR /> dick.<BR /> </p><p> MR. BLUE<BR /> How many dicks was that?<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> A lot.<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> Then one day she meets a John<BR /> Holmes motherfucker, and it's<BR /> like, whoa baby. This mother<BR /> fucker's like Charles Bronson in<BR /> "The Great Escape." He's diggin<BR /> tunnels. Now she's gettin this<BR /> serious dick action, she's feelin<BR /> something she ain't felt since<BR /> forever. Pain.<BR /> </p><p> JOE<BR /> Chew? Toby Chew? No.<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> It hurts. It hurts her. It<BR /> shouldn't hurt. Her pussy should<BR /> be Bubble-Yum by now. But when<BR /> this cat fucks her, it hurts. It<BR /> hurts like the first time. The<BR /> pain is reminding a fuck machine<BR /> what is was like to be a virgin.<BR /> Hence, "Like a Virgin."<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> The fellas crack up.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> JOE<BR /> Wong?<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> Fuck you, wrong. I'm right! What<BR /> the fuck do you know about it<BR /> anyway? You're still listening to<BR /> Jerry-fucking-Vale.<BR /> </p><p> JOE<BR /> Not wrong, dumb ass, Wong! You<BR /> know, like the Chinese name?<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Mr. White snatches the address book from Joe's hand. They<BR /> fight, but they're not really mad at each other.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Give me this fucking thing.<BR /> </p><p> JOE<BR /> What the fuck do you think you're<BR /> doin? Give me my book back!<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> I'm sick of fuckin hearin it Joe,<BR /> I'll give it back when we leave.<BR /> </p><p> JOE<BR /> Whaddaya mean, give it to me when<BR /> we leave, give it back now.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> For the past fifteen minutes now,<BR /> you've just been droning on with<BR /> names. "Toby...Toby...Toby...<BR /> Toby Wong...Toby Wong...Toby<BR /> Chung...fuckin Charlie Chan." I<BR /> got Madonna's big dick outta my<BR /> right ear, and Toby Jap I-don't-<BR /> know-what, outta my left.<BR /> </p><p> JOE<BR /> What do you care?<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> When you're annoying as hell, I<BR /> care a lot.<BR /> </p><p> JOE<BR /> Give me my book.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> You gonna put it away?<BR /> </p><p> JOE<BR /> I'm gonna do whatever I wanna do<BR /> with it.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Well, then, I'm afraid I'm gonna<BR /> have to keep it.<BR /> </p><p> MR. BLONDE<BR /> Joe, you want me to shoot him for<BR /> you?<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Shit, you shoot me in a dream, you<BR /> better wake up and apologize.<BR /> </p><p> NICE GUY EDDIE<BR /> Have you guys been listening to K-<BR /> BILLY's super sounds of the<BR /> seventies weekend?<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> Yeah, it's fuckin great isn't it?<BR /> </p><p> NICE GUY EDDIE<BR /> Can you believe the songs they<BR /> been playin?<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> No, I can't. You know what I<BR /> heard the other day? "Heartbeat -<BR /> It's Lovebeat," by little Tony<BR /> DeFranco and the DeFranco Family.<BR /> I haven't heard that since I was<BR /> in fifth fuckin grade.<BR /> </p><p> NICE GUY EDDIE<BR /> When I was coming down here, I was<BR /> playin it. And "The Night the<BR /> Lights Went Out in Georgia" came<BR /> on. Now I ain't heard that song<BR /> since it was big, but when it was<BR /> big, I heard it a million-<BR /> trillion times. I'm listening to<BR /> it this morning, and this was the<BR /> first time I ever realized that<BR /> the lady singing the song, was the<BR /> one who killed Andy.<BR /> </p><p> MR. BLUE<BR /> You didn't know Vicki Lawrence<BR /> killed the guy?<BR /> </p><p> NICE GUY EDDIE<BR /> I thought the cheatin wife shot<BR /> Andy.<BR /> </p><p> MR. BLONDE<BR /> They say it in the song.<BR /> </p><p> NICE GUY EDDIE<BR /> I know, I heard it. I musta zoned<BR /> out whenever that part came on<BR /> before. I thought when she said<BR /> that little sister stuff, she was<BR /> talkin about her sister- in-law,<BR /> the cheatin wife.<BR /> </p><p> JOE<BR /> No, she did it. She killed the<BR /> cheatin wife, too.<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> You know the part in "Gypsies,<BR /> Tramps and Theives," when she says<BR /> "Poppa woulda shot his if he knew<BR /> what he'd done?" I could never<BR /> figure out what he did.<BR /> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE><p> The table laughs. The WAITRESS comes over to the table.<BR /> She has the check, and a pot of coffee.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> WAITRESS<BR /> Can I get anybody more<BR /> coffee.<BR /> </p><p> JOE<BR /> No, we're gonna be hittin it.<BR /> I'll take care of the check.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> She hands the bill to him.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> WAITRESS<BR /> Here ya go. Please pay at the<BR /> register, if you wouldn't mind.<BR /> </p><p> JOE<BR /> Sure thing.<BR /> </p><p> WAITRESS<BR /> You guys have a wonderful day.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> They all mutter equivalents. She exits and Joe stands up.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> JOE<BR /> I'll take care of this, you guys<BR /> leave the tip.<BR /> (to Mr. White)<BR /> And when I come back, I want my<BR /> book back.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Sorry, it's my book now.<BR /> </p><p> JOE<BR /> Blonde, shoot this piece of shit,<BR /> will ya?<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Mr. Blonde shoots Mr. White with his finger. Mr White<BR /> acts shot. Joe exits.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> NICE GUY EDDIE<BR /> Okay, everybody cough up green for<BR /> the little lady.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Everybody whips out a buck, and throws it on the table.<BR /> Everybody, that is, except Mr. White.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> NICE GUY EDDIE<BR /> C'mon, throw in a buck.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Uh-uh. I don't tip.<BR /> </p><p> NICE GUY EDDIE<BR /> Whaddaya mean you don't tip?<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> I don't believe in it.<BR /> </p><p> NICE GUY EDDIE<BR /> You don't believe in tipping?<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> (laughing)<BR /> I love this kid, he's a madman,<BR /> this guy.<BR /> </p><p> MR. BLONDE<BR /> Do you have any idea what these<BR /> ladies make? They make shit.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Don't give me that. She don't<BR /> make enough money, she can quit.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Everybody laughs.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> NICE GUY EDDIE<BR /> I don't even know a Jew who'd have<BR /> the balls to say that. So let's<BR /> get this straight. You never ever<BR /> tip?<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> I don't tip because society says I<BR /> gotta. I tip when somebody<BR /> deserves a tip. When somebody<BR /> really puts forth an effort, they<BR /> deserve a little something extra.<BR /> But this tipping automatically,<BR /> that shit's for the birds. As far<BR /> as I'm concerned, they're just<BR /> doin their job.<BR /> </p><p> MR. BLUE<BR /> Our girl was nice.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Our girl was okay. She didn't do<BR /> anything special.<BR /> </p><p> MR. BLONDE<BR /> What's something special, take ya<BR /> in the kitchen and suck your dick?<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> They all laugh.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> NICE GUY EDDIE<BR /> I'd go over twelve percent for<BR /> that.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WRITE<BR /> Look, I ordered coffee. Now we've<BR /> been here a long fuckin time, and<BR /> she's only filled my cup three<BR /> times. When I order coffee, I<BR /> want it filled six times.<BR /> </p><p> MR. BLONDE<BR /> What if she's too busy?<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> The words "too busy" shouldn't be<BR /> in a waitress's vocabulary.<BR /> </p><p> NICE GUY EDDIE<BR /> Excuse me, Mr. White, but the last<BR /> thing you need is another cup of<BR /> coffee.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> They all laugh.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. WHITE<BR /> These ladies aren't starvin to<BR /> death. They make minimum wage.<BR /> When I worked for minimum wage, I<BR /> wasn't lucky enough to have a job<BR /> that society deemed tipworthy.<BR /> </p><p> NICE GUY EDDIE<BR /> Ahh, now we're getting down to it.<BR /> It's not just that he's a cheap<BR /> bastard--<BR /> </p><p> MR. ORANGE<BR /> --It is that too--<BR /> </p><p> NICE GUY EDDIE<BR /> --It is that too. But it's also<BR /> he couldn't get a waiter job. You<BR /> talk like a pissed off dishwasher:<BR /> "Fuck those cunts and their<BR /> fucking tips."<BR /> </p><p> MR. BLONDE<BR /> So you don't care that they're<BR /> counting on your tip to live?<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Mr. White rubs two of his fingers together.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Do you know what this is? It's<BR /> the world's smallest violin,<BR /> playing just for the waitresses.<BR /> </p><p> MR. BLONDE<BR /> You don't have any idea what<BR /> you're talking about. These<BR /> people bust their ass. This<BR /> is a hard job.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> So's working at McDonald's, but<BR /> you don't feel the need to tip<BR /> them. They're servin ya food, you<BR /> should tip em. But no, society<BR /> says tip these guys over here, but<BR /> not those guys over there. That's<BR /> bullshit.<BR /> </p><p> MR. ORANGE<BR /> They work harder than the kids at<BR /> McDonald's.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Oh yeah, I don't see them cleaning<BR /> fryers.<BR /> </p><p> MR. BROWN<BR /> These people are taxed on the tips<BR /> they make. When you stiff 'em,<BR /> you cost them money.<BR /> </p><p> MR. BLONDE<BR /> Waitressing is the number one<BR /> occupation for female non-college<BR /> graduates in this country. It's<BR /> the one jab basically any woman<BR /> can get, and make a living on.<BR /> The reason is because of tips.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Fuck all that.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> They all laugh.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Hey, I'm very sorry that the<BR /> government taxes their tips.<BR /> That's fucked up. But that ain't<BR /> my fault. it would appear that<BR /> waitresses are just one of the<BR /> many groups the government fucks<BR /> in the ass on a regular basis.<BR /> You show me a paper says the<BR /> government shouldn't do that, I'll<BR /> sign it. Put it to a vote, I'll<BR /> vote for it. But what I won't do<BR /> is play ball. And this non-<BR /> college bullshit you're telling<BR /> me, I got two words for that:<BR /> "Learn to fuckin type." Cause if<BR /> you're expecting me to help out<BR /> with the rent, you're in for a big<BR /> fuckin surprise.<BR /> </p><p> MR. ORANGE<BR /> He's convinced me. Give me my<BR /> dollar back.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Everybody laughs. Joe's comes back to the table.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> JOE<BR /> Okay ramblers, let's get to<BR /> rambling. Wait a minute, who<BR /> didn't throw in?<BR /> </p><p> MR. ORANGE<BR /> Mr. White.<BR /> </p><p> JOE<BR /> (to Mr. Orange)<BR /> Mr. White?<BR /> (to Mr. White)<BR /> Why?<BR /> </p><p> MR. ORANGE<BR /> He don't tip.<BR /> </p><p> JOE<BR /> (to Mr. Orange)<BR /> He don't tip?<BR /> (to Mr. White)<BR /> You don't tip? Why?<BR /> </p><p> MR. ORANGE<BR /> He don't believe in it.<BR /> </p><p> JOE<BR /> (to Mr. Orange)<BR /> He don't believe in it?<BR /> (to Mr. White)<BR /> You don't believe in it?<BR /> </p><p> MR. ORANGE<BR /> Nope.<BR /> </p><p> JOE<BR /> (to Mr. Orange)<BR /> Shut up!<BR /> (to Mr. White)<BR /> Cough up the buck, ya cheap<BR /> bastard, I paid for your goddamn<BR /> breakfast.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Because you paid for the<BR /> breakfast, I'm gonna tip.<BR /> Normally I wouldn't.<BR /> </p><p> JOE<BR /> Whatever. Just throw in your<BR /> dollar, and let's move.<BR /> (to Mr. Blonde)<BR /> See what I'm dealing with here.<BR /> Infants. I'm fuckin dealin with<BR /> infants.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> The eight men get up to leave. Mr. White's waist is in<BR /> the F.G. As he buttons his coat, for a second we see he's<BR /> carrying a gun. They exit Uncle Bob's Pancake House,<BR /> talking amongst themselves.<BR /> <p> <BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><B>2 EXT. UNCLE BOB'S PANCAKE HOUSE - DAY<BR /></B><BLOCKQUOTE> <p> CREDIT SEQUENCE:<BR /> </p><p> When the credit sequence is finished, we FADE TO BLACK:<BR /> </p><p> Over the BLACK we hear the sound of SOMEONE SCREAMING in<BR /> agony.<BR /> </p><p> Under the screaming, we hear the sound of a car HAULING<BR /> ASS, through traffic.<BR /> </p><p> Over the screams and the traffic noise, we hear SOMEBODY<BR /> ELSE SAY:<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> SOMEBODY ELSE (OS)<BR /> Just hold on buddy boy.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Somebody stops screaming long enough to say:<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> SOMEBODY (OS)<BR /> I'm sorry. I can't believe<BR /> she killed me. Who would've<BR /> fuckin thought that?<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> CUT TO:<BR /> <p> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><B>3 INT. GETAWAY GAR (MOVING) - DAY<BR /></B><BLOCKQUOTE> <p> The Somebody screaming is Mr. Orange. He lies in the<BR /> backseat. He's been SHOT in the stomach. BLOOD covers<BR /> both him and the backseat.<BR /> </p><p> Mr. White is the Somebody Else. He's behind the wheel of<BR /> the getaway car. He's easily doing 80 mph, dodging in and<BR /> out of traffic. Though he's driving for his life, he<BR /> keeps talking to his wounded passenger in the backseat.<BR /> </p><p> They are the only two in the car.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Hey, just cancel that shit right<BR /> now! You're hurt. You're hurt<BR /> really fucking bad, but you ain't<BR /> dying.<BR /> </p><p> MR. ORANGE<BR /> (crying)<BR /> All this blood is scaring the shit<BR /> outta me. I'm gonna die, I know<BR /> it.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Oh excuse me, I didn't realize you<BR /> had a degree in medicine. Are you<BR /> a doctor? Are you a doctor?<BR /> Answer me please, are you a<BR /> doctor?<BR /> </p><p> MR. ORANGE<BR /> No, I'm not!<BR /> </p><p> MR. WRITE<BR /> Ahhhh, so you admit you don't know<BR /> what you're talking about. So if<BR /> you're through giving me your<BR /> amateur opinion, lie back and<BR /> listen to the news. I'm taking<BR /> you back to the rendezvous, Joe's<BR /> gonna get you a doctor, the<BR /> doctor's gonna fix you up, and<BR /> you're gonna be okay. Now say it:<BR /> you're gonna be okay. Say it:<BR /> you're gonna be okay!<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Mr. Orange doesn't respond. Mr. White starts pounding on<BR /> the steering wheel.<BR /> <p> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> MR. WHITE<BR /> Say-the-goddamn-words: you're<BR /> gonna be okay!<BR /> <p> MR. ORANGE<BR /> I'm okay.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> (softly)<BR /> Correct.<BR /> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE><p> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><B>4 INT. WAREHOUSE - DAY<BR /> </B><BLOCKQUOTE><p> The CAMERA does a 360 around an empty warehouse. Then the<BR /> door swings open, and Mr. White carries the bloody body of<BR /> Mr. Orange inside.<BR /> </p><p> Mr. Orange still is MOANING loudly from his bullet hit.<BR /> </p><p> Mr. White lays him down upon a mattress on the floor.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Just hold on buddy boy. Hold on,<BR /> and wait for Joe. I can't do<BR /> anything for you, but when Joe<BR /> gets here, which should be anytime<BR /> now, he'll be able to help you.<BR /> We're just gonna sit here, and<BR /> wait for Joe. Who are<BR /> we waiting for?<BR /> </p><p> MR. ORANGE<BR /> Joe.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Bet your sweet ass we are.<BR /> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE><p> Mr. White gets up from over Mr. Orange and starts to prowl<BR /> around the warehouse.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. ORANGE<BR /> (yelling)<BR /> Don't leave me!<BR /> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE><p> Mr White bends back over him and takes his hand.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. WHITE<BR /> I ain't going anywhere. I'm right<BR /> here. I'm not gonna leave ya.<BR /> </p><p> MR. ORANGE<BR /> Larry, I'm so scared, would you<BR /> please hold me.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Mr. White very gently embraces the bloody Mr. Orange.<BR /> Cradling the young man, Mr. White whispers to him.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. WHITE<BR /> (whispering)<BR /> Go ahead and be scared, you've<BR /> been brave enough for one day. I<BR /> want you to just relax now.<BR /> You're not gonna die, you're gonna<BR /> be fine. When Joe gets here,<BR /> he'll make ya a hundred percent<BR /> again.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Mr. White lays Mr. Orange back down on the mattress. He's<BR /> still holding his hand. Mr. Orange looks up at his<BR /> friend.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. ORANGE<BR /> Look, I don't wanna be a fly in<BR /> the ointment, but if help doesn't<BR /> come soon, I gotta see a doctor.<BR /> I don't give a fuck about jail, I<BR /> just don't wanna die.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> You're not gonna fucking die, all<BR /> right?<BR /> </p><p> MR. ORANGE<BR /> I wasn't born yesterday. I'm<BR /> hurt, and I'm hurt bad.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> It's not good...<BR /> </p><p> MR. ORANGE<BR /> Hey, bless your heart for what<BR /> you're trying to do. I was<BR /> panicking for a moment, but I've<BR /> got my senses back now. The<BR /> situation is, I'm shot in the<BR /> belly. And without medical<BR /> attention, I'm gonna die.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> I can' take you to a hospital.<BR /> </p><p> MR. ORANGE<BR /> Fuck jail! I don't give a shit<BR /> about jail. But I can't die. You<BR /> don't have to take me in. Just<BR /> drive me up to the front, drop me<BR /> on the sidewalk. I'll take care<BR /> of myself. I won't tell them<BR /> anything. I swear to fucking god,<BR /> I won't tell 'em anything. Look<BR /> in my eyes, look right in my eyes.<BR /> (Mr. White does)<BR /> I-won't-tell-them-anything.<BR /> You'll be safe.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Lie back down, and try to--<BR /> </p><p> MR. ORANGE<BR /> I'm going to die! I need a<BR /> doctor! I'm begging you,<BR /> take me to a doctor.<BR /> <BR /> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Mr. Orange lays his head back on the mattress. Spent from<BR /> his outburst, he quietly mutters to himself:<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. ORANGE<BR /> Take me to a doctor, take me to a<BR /> doctor, please.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Suddenly, the warehouse door BURSTS open and Mr.<BR /> Pink steps inside.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. PINK<BR /> Was that a fucking set-up or what?<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Mr. Pink sees Mr. Orange on the floor, shot and bloody.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. PINK<BR /> Oh fuck, Orange got tagged.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Throughout this scene, we hear Mr. Orange moaning.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Gun shot.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> MR. PINK<BR /> Oh that's just fucking great!<BR /> Where's Brown?<BR /> <p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Dead.<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> Goddamn, goddamn! How did he die?<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> How the fuck do you think? The<BR /> cops shot him.<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> Oh this is bad, this is so bad.<BR /> (referring to Mr.<BR /> Orange)<BR /> Is it bad?<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> As opposed to good?<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> This is so fucked up. Somebody<BR /> fucked us big time.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> You really think we were set up?<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> You even doubt it? I don't think<BR /> we got set up, I know we got set<BR /> up! I mean really, seriously,<BR /> where did all those cops come<BR /> from, huh? One minute they're not<BR /> there, the next minute<BR /> they're there. I didn't hear any<BR /> sirens. The alarm went off, okay.<BR /> Okay, when an alarm goes off, you<BR /> got an average of four minutes<BR /> response time. Unless a patrol<BR /> car is cruising that street, at<BR /> that particular moment, you got<BR /> four minutes before they can<BR /> realistically respond. In one<BR /> minute there were seventeen blue<BR /> boys out there. All loaded for<BR /> bear, all knowing exactly what the<BR /> fuck they were doing, and they<BR /> were all just there! Remember<BR /> that second wave that showed up in<BR /> the cars? Those were the ones<BR /> responding to the alarm. but<BR /> those other motherfuckers were<BR /> already there, they were waiting<BR /> for us.<BR /> (pause)<BR /> You haven't thought about this?<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> I haven't had a chance to think.<BR /> First I was just trying to get the<BR /> fuck outta there. And after we<BR /> got away, I've just been dealin<BR /> with him.<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> Well, you better start thinking<BR /> about it. Cause I, sure as fuck,<BR /> am thinking about it. In fact,<BR /> that's all I'm thinking about. I<BR /> came this close to just driving<BR /> off. Whoever set us up, knows<BR /> about this place. There could've<BR /> been cops sitting here waiting for<BR /> me. For all we know, there's<BR /> cops, driving fast, on their way<BR /> here now.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Let's go in the other room...<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> The camera creeps along a wall, coming to a corner. We<BR /> move past it, and see down a hall.<BR /> <p> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><B>5 INT. BATHROOM HALLWAY - DAY<BR /> </B><BLOCKQUOTE><p> At the end of the hall is a bathroom. The bathroom door<BR /> is partially closed, restricting our view. Mr. Pink is<BR /> obscured, but Mr. White is in view.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. PINK (OS)<BR /> What the fuck am I doing here? I<BR /> felt funny about this job right<BR /> off. As soon as I felt it I<BR /> should said "No thank you", and<BR /> walked. But I never fucking<BR /> listen. Every time I ever got<BR /> burned buying weed, I always knew<BR /> the guy wasn't right. I just felt<BR /> it. But I wanted to believe him.<BR /> If he's not lyin to me, and it<BR /> really is Thai stick, then whoa<BR /> baby. But it's never Thai stick.<BR /> and I always said if I felt that<BR /> way about a job, I'd walk. And I<BR /> did, and I didn't, because of<BR /> fuckin money!<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> What's done is done, I need you<BR /> cool. Are you cool?<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> I'm cool.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Splash some water on your face.<BR /> Take a breather.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> We hear the sink running, and Mr. Pink splashing water on<BR /> his face.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. WHITE<BR /> I'm gonna get me my smokes.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Mr White opens the bathroom door, walks down the hall, and<BR /> OUT OF FRAME. We see Mr. Pink, his back turned towards<BR /> us, bent over the sink. Then he grabs a towels, and dries<BR /> his face. Mr White ENTERS FRAME with a pack of<BR /> Chesterfields in his hand.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Want a smoke?<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> Why not?<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> The two men light up.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Okay, let's go through what<BR /> happened. We're in the place,<BR /> everything's going fine. Then the<BR /> alarm gets tripped. I turn around<BR /> and all these cops are outside.<BR /> You're right, it was like, bam! I<BR /> blink my eyes are they're there.<BR /> Everybody starts going apeshit.<BR /> Then Mr. Blonde starts shootin all<BR /> the--<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> --That's not correct.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> What's wrong with it?<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> The cops didn't show up after the<BR /> alarm went off. They didn't show<BR /> till after Mr. Blonde started<BR /> shooting everyone.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> As soon as I heard the alarm, I<BR /> saw the cops.<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> I'm telling ya, it wasn't that<BR /> soon. They didn't let their<BR /> presence be known until after Mr.<BR /> Blonde went off. I'm not sayin<BR /> they weren't there, I'm sayin they<BR /> were there. But they didn't move<BR /> in till Mr. Blonde became a<BR /> madman. That's how I know we were<BR /> set up. You can see that,<BR /> can't you, Mr. White?<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Look, enough of this "Mr White"<BR /> shit--<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> --Don't tell me your name, I don't<BR /> want to know! I sure as hell<BR /> ain't gonna tell ya<BR /> mine.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> You're right, this is bad.<BR /> (pause)<BR /> How did you get out?<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> Shot my way out. Everybody was<BR /> shooting, so I just blasted my way<BR /> outta there.<BR /> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE><p> CUT TO:<BR /> </p><p> <BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><B>6 EXT. CROWDED CITY STREET - DAY<BR /> </B><BLOCKQUOTE><p> Mr. Pink is hauling ass down a busy city sidewalk. He has<BR /> a canvas bag with a shoulder strap in one hand, and a .357<BR /> MAGNUM in the other. If any BYSTANDERS get in his way, he<BR /> just knocks them down. We DOLLY at the same speed, right<BR /> along side of him.<BR /> </p><p> FOUR POLICEMEN are running after Mr. Pink. We DOLLY with<BR /> them.<BR /> </p><p> We DOLLY with a young woman on roller skates. ROLLERGIRL<BR /> is plugged into a walkman. We hear the song she's<BR /> listening to LOUD over the SOUNDTRACK. She's twirling and<BR /> skating backwards to the beat of the song.<BR /> </p><p> Rollergirl turns a corner and COLLIDES with Mr. Pink. The<BR /> man and woman CRASH to the ground.<BR /> </p><p> Mr. Pink rolls into the street, in front of a moving car<BR /> that SCREECHES to a stop, narrowly avoiding running over<BR /> him.<BR /> </p><p> <BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><B>7 INT. CAR (STOPPED) - DAY<BR /> </B><BLOCKQUOTE><p> The CAMERA is in the backseat. A SHOCKED WOMAN is the<BR /> car's driver. Mr. Pink pulls himself up from the hood,<BR /> shakes it off, and points his magnum at the driver.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. PINK<BR /> Get outta the car! Get the fuck<BR /> outta the car!<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> The Shocked Woman starts screaming.<BR /> <p> Mr. Pink tries to open the driver's side door, but it's<BR /> locked.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. PINK<BR /> Open the fucking door!<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> EXTREME C.U. DRIVER'S SIDE WINDOW<BR /> <p> Mr. Pink SMASHES it in our face.<BR /> </p><p> <BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><B>8 EXT. STREET - DAY<BR /> </B><BLOCKQUOTE><p> DOLLY with Cops coming up fast.<BR /> </p><p> Mr. Pink DRAGS the Shocked Woman out of the car.<BR /> </p><p> The Cops reach the corner, guns aimed.<BR /> </p><p> Using the car as a shield, Mr. Pink FIRES three shots at<BR /> the Cops.<BR /> </p><p> Everybody HITS the ground, or scatters.<BR /> </p><p> Mr. Pink HOPS in the car.<BR /> </p><p> Cops FIRE.<BR /> </p><p> <BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><B>9 INT. CAR (MOVING) - DAY<BR /></B><BLOCKQUOTE> <p> CAMERA in the backseat, Mr. Pink FLOORS it. SPEEDING down<BR /> the street, with the Cops FIRING after him.<BR /> </p><p> BACK TO:<BR /> </p><p> <BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><B>10 INT. BATHROOM - DAY<BR /> </B><BLOCKQUOTE><p> Mr. Pink and Mr. White still talking in the bathroom.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. PINK<BR /> Tagged a couple of cops. Did you<BR /> kill anybody?<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> A few cops.<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> No real people?<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Uh-uh, just cops.<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> Could you believe Mr. Blonde?<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> That was one of the most insane<BR /> fucking things I've ever seen.<BR /> Why the fuck would Joe hire<BR /> somebody like that?<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> I don't wanna kill anybody. But<BR /> if I gotta get out that door, and<BR /> you're standing in my way, one way<BR /> of the other, you're gettin outta<BR /> my way.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> That's the way I look at it. A<BR /> choice between doin ten years, and<BR /> takin out some stupid<BR /> motherfucker, ain't no choice at<BR /> all. But I ain't no madman<BR /> either. What the fuck was Joe<BR /> thinkin? You can't work with a<BR /> guy like that. That mother-<BR /> fucker's unstable. What do you<BR /> think? Do you think he panicked,<BR /> or ya think he's just trigger-<BR /> happy?<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> I think he's a sick fuckin maniac!<BR /> We're awful goddamn lucky he<BR /> didn't tag us, when<BR /> he shot up the place. I came this<BR /> fucking close--<BR /> (hold up two fingers<BR /> and makes a tiny<BR /> space between them)<BR /> --to taking his ass out myself.<BR /> Everybody panics. When things get<BR /> tense, everybody panics.<BR /> Everybody. I don't care what your<BR /> name is, you can't help it. It's<BR /> human nature. But ya panic on the<BR /> inside.<BR /> Ya panic in your head. Ya give<BR /> yourself a couple a seconds of<BR /> panic, then you get a grip and<BR /> deal with the situation. What you<BR /> don't do, is shoot up the place<BR /> and kill everybody.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> What you're supposed to do is act<BR /> like a fuckin professional. A<BR /> psychopath is not a professional.<BR /> You can't work with a psychopath,<BR /> 'cause ya don't know what those<BR /> sick assholes are gonna do next.<BR /> I mean, Jesus Christ, how old do<BR /> you think that black girl was?<BR /> Twenty, maybe twenty-one?<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> Did ya see what happened to<BR /> anybody else?<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Me and Mr. Orange jumped in the<BR /> car and Mr. Brown floored it.<BR /> After that, I don't know what went<BR /> down.<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> At that point it became every man<BR /> for himself. As far as Mr. Blonde<BR /> or Mr. Blue are concerned, I ain't<BR /> got the foggiest. Once<BR /> I got out, I never looked back.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> What do you think?<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> What do I think? I think the cops<BR /> caught them, or killed 'em.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Not even a chance they punched<BR /> through? You found a hole.<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> Yeah, and that was a fucking<BR /> miracle. But if they did get<BR /> away, where the fuck are they?<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> You don't think it's possible, one<BR /> of them got ahold of the diamonds<BR /> and pulled a--<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> Nope.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> How can you be so sure?<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> I got the diamonds.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Where?<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> I got 'em, all right?<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Where? Are they out in the car?<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> No, they're not in the car. No, I<BR /> don't have them on me. Ya wanna<BR /> go with me and get 'em? Yes, we<BR /> can go right now. But first<BR /> listen to what I'm telling you.<BR /> We were fuckin set up! Somebody<BR /> is in league with the cops. We<BR /> got a Judas in our midst. And I'm<BR /> thinkin we should have our fuckin<BR /> heads examined for waiting around<BR /> here.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> That was the plan, we meet here.<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> Then where is everybody? I say<BR /> the plan became null and void once<BR /> we found out we got a rat in the<BR /> house. We ain't got the slightest<BR /> fuckin idea what happened to Mr.<BR /> Blonde or Mr. Blue. They could<BR /> both be dead<BR /> or arrested. They could be<BR /> sweatin 'em, down at the station<BR /> house right now. Yeah they don't<BR /> know the names, but they can sing<BR /> about this place.<BR /> I mean, that could be happening<BR /> right now. As we speak, the cops<BR /> could be in their cars, drivin<BR /> here this minute.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> I swear to god I'm fuckin jinxed.<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> What?<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Two jobs back, it was a four man<BR /> job, we discovered one of the team<BR /> was an undercover cop.<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> No shit?<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Thank god, we discovered in time.<BR /> We hadda forget the whole fuckin<BR /> thing. Just walked away from it.<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> So who's the rat this time? Mr.<BR /> Blue? Mr. Blonde? Joe? It's<BR /> Joe's show, he set this whole<BR /> thing up. Maybe he set it up to<BR /> set it up.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> I don't buy it. Me and Joe go<BR /> back a long time. I can tell ya<BR /> straight up, Joe definitely didn't<BR /> have anything to do with this<BR /> bullshit.<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> Oh, you and Joe go back a long<BR /> time. I known Joe since I was a<BR /> kid. But me saying Joe definitely<BR /> couldn't have done it is<BR /> ridiculous. I can say I<BR /> definitely didn't do it, cause I<BR /> know what I did or didn't do. But<BR /> I can't definitely say that about<BR /> anybody else, 'cause I don't<BR /> definitely know. For all I know,<BR /> you're the rat.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> For all I know, you're the rat.<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> Now you're using your head. For<BR /> all we know, he's the rat.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Mr. Pink points OFFSCREEN to Mr. Orange. Mr. White's<BR /> expression changes.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Jesus Christ!<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE><BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><B>11 INT. WAREHOUSE - DAY<BR /> </B><BLOCKQUOTE><p> They run over to Mr. Orange, who's unconscious. The<BR /> CAMERA hovers over the action. Mr. Pink reaches him<BR /> first.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. PINK<BR /> Is he dead?<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Mr. White pushes him out of the way. He feels the pulse<BR /> on Mr. Orange's neck.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. PINK<BR /> So, is he dead or what?<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> He ain't dead.<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> So what is it?<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> I think he's just passed out.<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> He scared the fuckin shit outta<BR /> me. I thought he was dead fer<BR /> sure.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Mr. White stands up and walks over to a table.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. WHITE<BR /> He will be dead fer sure, if we<BR /> don't get him to a hospital.<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> We can't take him to a hospital.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Without medical attention, this<BR /> man won't live through the night.<BR /> That bullet in his belly is my<BR /> fault. Now while that might not<BR /> mean jack shit to you, it means a<BR /> helluva lot to me. And I'm not<BR /> gonna just sit around and watch<BR /> him die.<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> Well, first things first, staying<BR /> here's goofy. We gotta book up.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> So what do you suggest, we go to a<BR /> hotel? We got a guy who's shot in<BR /> the belly, he can't walk, he<BR /> bleeds like a stuck pig, and when<BR /> he's awake, he screams in pain.<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> You gotta idea, spit it out.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Joe could help him. If we can get<BR /> in touch with Joe, Joe could get<BR /> him to a doctor, Joe could get a<BR /> doctor to come and see him.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> During Mr. Pink's dialog, we slowly ZOOM in to a <BR /> C.U. of Mr. White.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. PINK (OS)<BR /> Assuming we can trust Joe, how we<BR /> gonna get in touch with him? He's<BR /> supposed to be here, but he ain't,<BR /> which is making me nervous about<BR /> being here. Even if Joe is<BR /> on the up and up, he's probably<BR /> not gonna be that happy with us.<BR /> Joe planned a robbery, but he's<BR /> got a blood bath on his hands now.<BR /> Dead cops, dead robbers, dead<BR /> civilians...Jesus Christ! I tend<BR /> to doubt he's gonna have a lot of<BR /> sympathy for our plight. If I was<BR /> him, I'd try and put as much<BR /> distance between me and this mess<BR /> an humanly possible.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Before you got here, Mr. Orange<BR /> was askin me to take him to a<BR /> hospital. Now I don't like<BR /> turning him over to the cops, but<BR /> if we don't, he's dead. He begged<BR /> me to do it. I told him to hold<BR /> off till Joe got here.<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK (OS)<BR /> Well Joe ain't gettin here. We're<BR /> on our own. Now, I don't know a<BR /> goddamn body who can help him, so<BR /> if you know somebody, call 'em.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> I don't know anybody.<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK (OS)<BR /> Well, I guess we drop him off at<BR /> the hospital. Since he don't know<BR /> nothin about us, I say it's his<BR /> decision.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE><BR /> MR. WHITE'S POV:<BR /> <p> C.U. OF MR. PINK.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. WHITE (OS)<BR /> Well, he knows a little about me.<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> You didn't tell him your name, did<BR /> ya?<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE (OS)<BR /> I told him my first name, and<BR /> where I'm from.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> There is a long silence and a blank look from Mr. Pink,<BR /> then he SCREAMS:<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. PINK<BR /> Why!<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE (OS)<BR /> I told him where I was from a few<BR /> days ago. It was just a casual<BR /> conversation.<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> And what was tellin him your name<BR /> when you weren't supposed to?<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE (OS)<BR /> He asked.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Mr. Pink looks at Mr. White like he's retarded.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. WHITE (OS)<BR /> We had just gotten away from the<BR /> cops. He just got shot. It was<BR /> my fuckin fault he got shot. He's<BR /> a fuckin bloody mess - he's<BR /> screaming. I swear to god, I<BR /> thought we was gonna die right<BR /> then and there. I'm tryin to<BR /> comfort him, telling him not to<BR /> worry, he's gonna be okay, I'm<BR /> gonna take care of him. And he<BR /> asked me what my name was. I<BR /> mean, the man was dyin in my arms.<BR /> What the fuck was I supposed to<BR /> tell him, "Sorry, I can't give out<BR /> that information, it's against the<BR /> rules. I don't trust you<BR /> enough."? Maybe I shoulda, but I<BR /> couldn't.<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> Oh, I don't doubt is was quite<BR /> beautiful--<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE (OS)<BR /> Don't fuckin patronize me.<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> One question: Do they have a sheet<BR /> on you, where you told him you're<BR /> from?<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE (OS)<BR /> Of course.<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> Well that's that, then. I mean, I<BR /> was worried about mug shot<BR /> possibilities already. But now he<BR /> knows: (a) what you look like, (b)<BR /> what your first name is,<BR /> (i) where you're from and (d) what<BR /> your specialty is.<BR /> They ain't gonna hafta show him a<BR /> helluva lot of pictures for him to<BR /> pick you out. That's it right,<BR /> you didn't tell him anything else<BR /> that could narrow down the<BR /> selection?<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE (OS)<BR /> If I have to tell you again to<BR /> back off, me an you are gonna go<BR /> round and round.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Mr. Pink walks out of the C.U. and turns his back on Mr.<BR /> White. Mr. White's POV PANS over to him.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. PINK<BR /> We ain't taking him to a hospital.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE (OS)<BR /> If we don't, he'll die.<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> And I'm very sad about that. But<BR /> some fellas are lucky, and some<BR /> ain't.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE (OS)<BR /> That fuckin did it!<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Mr. White's POV CHARGES toward Mr. Pink.<BR /> <p> Mr. Pink turns toward him in time to get PUNCHED hard in<BR /> the mouth.<BR /> </p><p> END OF POV<BR /> </p><p> Mr. White and Mr. Pink have a very ungraceful and<BR /> realistic fight. They go at each other like a couple of<BR /> alley cats.<BR /> </p><p> As Mr. White SWINGS and PUNCHES, he SCREAMS:<BR /> </p><p> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> MR. WHITE<BR /> <p> You little motherfucker!<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Mr. Pink YELLS as he HITS:<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. PINK<BR /> Ya wanna fuck with me?! You wanna<BR /> fuck with me?! I'll show you who<BR /> you're fuckin with!<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> The two men end up on the floor KICKING and SCRATCHING.<BR /> <p> Mr. White gets Mr. Pink in a HEADLOCK.<BR /> </p><p> Mr. Pink reaches in his jacket for his gun, and pulls it<BR /> out.<BR /> </p><p> Mr. White sees this, immediately lets go of Mr. Pink,<BR /> and goes for his own weapon.<BR /> </p><p> The two men are on the floor, on their knees, with their<BR /> guns outstretched, aiming at one another.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. WHITE<BR /> You wanna shoot me, you little<BR /> piece of shit? Take a shot!<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> Fuck you, White! I didn't create<BR /> this situation, I'm just dealin<BR /> with it. You're acting like a<BR /> first-year fuckin thief. I'm<BR /> actin like a professional. They<BR /> get him, they can get you, they<BR /> get you, they get closer to me,<BR /> and that can't happen. And you,<BR /> you motherfucker, are looking at<BR /> me like it's my fault. I didn't<BR /> tell him my name. I didn't tell<BR /> him where I was from. I didn't<BR /> tell him what I knew better than<BR /> to tell him. Fuck, fifteen<BR /> minutes ago, you almost told me<BR /> your name. You, buddy, are stuck<BR /> in a situation you created. So if<BR /> you wanna throw bad looks<BR /> somewhere, throw 'em at a mirror.<BR /> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE><p> Mr. Pink lowers his gun and walks towards White.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. PINK<BR /> So if you wanna shoot somebody,<BR /> put that gun in your mouth and<BR /> shoot yourself.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Then from OFF SCREEN we hear:<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> VOICE (OS)<BR /> You kids don't play so rough.<BR /> Somebody's gonna start crying.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE><BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><B>12 INT. WAREHOUSE - DAY - MEDIUM C.U. ON MR. BLONDE<BR /> </B><BLOCKQUOTE><p> The Voice belongs to the infamous Mr. Blonde.<BR /> </p><p> Mr. Blonde sits on a counter, drinking a fast food coke<BR /> and eating a hot dog.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. PINK<BR /> Mr. Blonde! You okay? We thought<BR /> you might've gotten caught. What<BR /> happened?<BR /> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE><p> Mr. Blonde doesn't answer, he just hops off the counter<BR /> and starts walking around the warehouse, checking the<BR /> place out.<BR /> </p><p> He doesn't look at either Mr. Pink or Mr. White, he<BR /> just eats his hot dog and sips his coke.<BR /> </p><p> This is making Pink and White nervous as hell. But Mr.<BR /> Pink tries to talk through it.<BR /> </p><p> We HANDHOLD follow Mr. Blonde around the warehouse.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. PINK<BR /> Really, how did you get away?<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Mr. Blonde walks the loft. Silent.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. PINK<BR /> You saw what happened to me,<BR /> I found a hole and booked.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Silence.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. PINK<BR /> Where's Mr. Blue?<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Blonde looks in the bathroom.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. PINK<BR /> We were hopin you two would be<BR /> together.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Blonde looks out the window.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. PINK<BR /> That was the big question we had,<BR /> what happened to Mr.<BR /> Blue and you?<BR /> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE><p> Blonde walks away from the window.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. PINK<BR /> We were worried the cops got ya.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Blonde bends down over Mr. Orange.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. PINK<BR /> He got it in the belly. He's<BR /> still alive, but won't be for<BR /> long.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Enough! You better start talkin<BR /> to us, asshole, cause we got shit<BR /> we need to talk about. We're<BR /> already freaked out, we need you<BR /> actin freaky like we need a fuckin<BR /> bag on our hip.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Mr. Blonde looks at his two partners in crime, then moves<BR /> towards them.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. BLONDE<BR /> So, talk.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> We think we got a rat in the<BR /> house.<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> I guarantee we got a rat in the<BR /> house.<BR /> </p><p> MR. BLONDE<BR /> What would ever make you think<BR /> that?<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Is that supposed to be funny?<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> We don't think this place is safe.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> This place just ain't secure<BR /> anymore. We're leaving, and you<BR /> should go with us.<BR /> </p><p> MR. BLONDE<BR /> Nobody's going anywhere.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Silence takes over the room. Mr. Blonde stops moving.<BR /> <p> After a few beats the silence is broken.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. WHITE<BR /> (to Mr. Pink)<BR /> Piss on this turd, we're outta<BR /> here.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Mr. White turns to leave.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. BLONDE<BR /> Don't take another step, Mr.<BR /> White.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Mr. White explodes, raising his gun and charging towards<BR /> Mr. Blonde.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Fuck you, maniac! It's your<BR /> fuckin fault we're in so much<BR /> trouble.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Mr. Blonde calmly sits down. He looks to Mr. Pink.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. BLONDE<BR /> (referring to Mr.<BR /> White)<BR /> What's this guy's problem?<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> What's my problem? Yeah, I gotta<BR /> problem. I gotta big problem with<BR /> any trigger-happy madman who<BR /> almost gets me shot!<BR /> </p><p> MR. BLONDE<BR /> What're you talkin about?<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> That fuckin shooting spree in the<BR /> store.<BR /> </p><p> MR. BLONDE<BR /> Fuck 'em, they set off the alarm,<BR /> they deserve what they got.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> You almost killed me, asshole! If<BR /> I had any idea what type of guy<BR /> you were, I never would've agreed<BR /> to work with you.<BR /> </p><p> MR. BLONDE<BR /> You gonna back all day, little<BR /> doggie, or are you gonna bite?<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> What was that? I'm sorry, I<BR /> didn't catch it. Would you repeat<BR /> it?<BR /> </p><p> MR. BLONDE<BR /> (slowly)<BR /> I said: "Are you gonna bark all<BR /> day, dog, or are you gonna bite."<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> Both of you two assholes knock it<BR /> the fuck off and calm down!<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> (to Mr. Blonde)<BR /> So you wanna git bit, huh?<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> Cut the bullshit, we ain't on a<BR /> fuckin playground!<BR /> (pause)<BR /> I don't believe this shit, both of<BR /> you got ten years on me, and I'm<BR /> the only one actin like a<BR /> professional. You guys act like a<BR /> bunch of fuckin niggers. You ever<BR /> work a job with a bunch of<BR /> niggers? They're just like you<BR /> two, always fightin, always sayin<BR /> they're gonna kill one another.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> (to Mr. Pink)<BR /> You said yourself, you<BR /> thought about takin him out.<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> Then. That time has passed.<BR /> Right now, Mr. Blonde is the only<BR /> one I completely trust. He's too<BR /> fuckin homicidal to be workin with<BR /> the cops.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> You takin his side?<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> Fuck sides! What we need is a<BR /> little solidarity here.<BR /> Somebody's stickin a red hot poker<BR /> up our asses and we gotta find out<BR /> whose hand's on the handle. Now I<BR /> know I'm no piece of shit...<BR /> (referring to Mr.<BR /> White)<BR /> And I'm pretty sure you're a good<BR /> boy...<BR /> (referring to Mr.<BR /> Blonde)<BR /> And I'm fuckin positive you're on<BR /> the level. So let's figure out<BR /> who's the bad guy.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Mr. White calms down and puts his gun away.<BR /> <p> Mr. Blonde returns to the persona we saw at the beginning,<BR /> talking about Madonna.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. BLONDE<BR /> Well, that was sure exciting.<BR /> (to Mr. White)<BR /> You're a big Lee Marvin fan,<BR /> aren't you? Me too. I don't know<BR /> about the rest of you fellas, but<BR /> my heart's<BR /> beatin fast.<BR /> (pause for a beat)<BR /> Okay you guys, follow me.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Mr. Blonde hops out of his chair and heads for the door.<BR /> <p> The other two men just follow him with their eyes.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Follow you where?<BR /> </p><p> MR. BLONDE<BR /> Down to my car.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Why?<BR /> </p><p> MR. BLONDE<BR /> It's a surprise.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Mr. Blonde walks out.<BR /> <p> <BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><B>13 EXT. WAREHOUSE - DAY<BR /> </B><BLOCKQUOTE><p> Three cars are parked out front. Mr. Blonde is walking<BR /> towards the car he drove. Mr. White and Mr. Pink are<BR /> walking behind. The Camera is HANDHELD following behind<BR /> them.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. PINK<BR /> We still gotta get out of here.<BR /> </p><p> MR. BLONDE<BR /> We're gonna sit here and wait.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> For what, the cops?<BR /> </p><p> MR. BLONDE<BR /> Nice Guy Eddie.<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> Nice Guy Eddie? What makes you<BR /> think Nice Guy's anywhere but on a<BR /> plane half way to Costa Rica?<BR /> </p><p> MR. BLONDE<BR /> Cause I just talked to him. He's<BR /> on his way down here, and nobody's<BR /> going anywhere till be gets here.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> You talked to Nice Guy Eddie? Why<BR /> the fuck didn't you say that in<BR /> the first place?<BR /> </p><p> MR. BLONDE<BR /> You didn't ask.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Hardy-fuckin-har. What did he<BR /> say?<BR /> </p><p> MR. BLONDE<BR /> Stay put. Okay, fellas, take a<BR /> look at the little surprise I<BR /> brought you.<BR /> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE><p> Mr. Blonde opens up the truck of his car. A handcuffed,<BR /> uniformed POLICEMAN is curled up inside the trunk.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. BLONDE<BR /> So while we're waitin for Nice Guy<BR /> Eddie, what say we have a little<BR /> fun finding out who the rat is.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE><BR /> INSERT: TITLE CARD "MR. BLONDE".<BR /> <p> <BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><B>14 INT. JOE CABOT'S OFFICE - DAY<BR /> </B><BLOCKQUOTE><p> We're inside the office of Joe Cabot. Joe's on the phone,<BR /> sitting behind his desk.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> JOE<BR /> (into phone)<BR /> Sid, I'm tellin you don't worry<BR /> about it. You had a bad couple of<BR /> months, it happens.<BR /> (pause)<BR /> Sid, Sid, Sid...Stop, you're<BR /> embarrassing me. I don't need to<BR /> be told what I already know. When<BR /> you have bad months, you do what<BR /> every business man in the<BR /> worlds does, I don't care if he's<BR /> Donald Trump or Irving the tailor.<BR /> Ya ride it out.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> There's a KNOCK on Cabot's office door.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> JOE<BR /> Come in.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> One of Cabot's goons, TEDDY, opens the door and steps<BR /> inside. Cabot covers the receiver with his hand and looks<BR /> towards the man.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> TEDDY<BR /> Vic Vega's outside.<BR /> </p><p> JOE<BR /> Tell him to come in.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Teddy leaves.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> JOE<BR /> (into phone)<BR /> Sid, a friend of mine's here. I<BR /> gotta go.<BR /> (pause)<BR /> Good enough, bye.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> He hangs up the phone, stands, and walks around to the<BR /> front of the desk.<BR /> <p> Teddy opens the office door, and TOOTHPICK VIC VEGA walks<BR /> in.<BR /> </p><p> Toothpick Vic Vega is none other than our very own Mr.<BR /> Blonde. Vic is dressed in a long black leather seventies<BR /> style jacket.<BR /> </p><p> Joe stands in front of his desk with his arms open.<BR /> </p><p> The two men embrace each other. Teddy leaves, closing the<BR /> door behind him.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> JOE<BR /> How's freedom kid, pretty fuckin<BR /> good, ain't it?<BR /> </p><p> VIC<BR /> It's a change.<BR /> </p><p> JOE<BR /> Ain't that a sad truth. Remy<BR /> Martin?<BR /> </p><p> VIC<BR /> Sure.<BR /> </p><p> JOE<BR /> Take a seat.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Joe goes over to his liquor cabinet. Vic sits in a chair<BR /> set in front of Joe's desk.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> JOE<BR /> (while he pours the<BR /> drink)<BR /> Who's your parole officer?<BR /> </p><p> VIC<BR /> A guy named Koons. Craig Koons.<BR /> </p><p> JOE<BR /> How is he?<BR /> </p><p> VIC<BR /> Fuckin asshole, won't let me leave<BR /> the halfway house.<BR /> </p><p> JOE<BR /> Never ceases to amaze me. Fuckin<BR /> jungle bunny goes out there, slits<BR /> some old woman's throat for<BR /> twenty-five cents. Fuckin nigger<BR /> gets Doris Day as a parole<BR /> officer. But a good fella like<BR /> you gets stuck with a ball-bustin<BR /> prick.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Joe walks back around his desk and sits in his chair.<BR /> <p> Vic swallows some Remy.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> VIC<BR /> I just want you to know, Joe, how<BR /> much I appreciate your care<BR /> packages on the inside.<BR /> </p><p> JOE<BR /> What the hell did you expect me to<BR /> do? Just forget about you?<BR /> </p><p> VIC<BR /> I just wanted you to know, they<BR /> meant a lot.<BR /> </p><p> JOE<BR /> It's the least I could do Vic. I<BR /> wish I coulda done more.<BR /> (Joe flashes a side<BR /> grin at Vic)<BR /> Vic. Toothpick Vic. Tell me a<BR /> story? What're your plans?<BR /> </p><p> VIC<BR /> Well, what I wanna do is go back<BR /> to work. But I got this Koons<BR /> prick deep up my ass. He won't<BR /> let me leave the halfway house<BR /> till I get some piece of shit job.<BR /> My plans have always been to be<BR /> part of the team again.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> There's a KNOCK at the door.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> JOE<BR /> Come in.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> The door opens and in walks Joe's son, Nice Guy Eddie.<BR /> Vic turns around in his seat and sees him.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> EDDIE<BR /> (to Vic)<BR /> I see ya sittin here, but I don't<BR /> believe it.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Vic gets out of his seat and hugs Eddie.<BR /> <p> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> EDDIE<BR /> How ya doin, Toothpick?<BR /> <p> VIC<BR /> Fine, now.<BR /> </p><p> EDDIE<BR /> I'm sorry man, I shoulda picked<BR /> you up personally at the pen.<BR /> This whole week's just been crazy.<BR /> I've had my head up my ass the<BR /> entire time.<BR /> </p><p> VIC<BR /> Funny you should mention it.<BR /> That's what your father and I been<BR /> talkin about.<BR /> </p><p> EDDIE<BR /> That I should've picked you up?<BR /> </p><p> VIC<BR /> No. That your head's been up your<BR /> ass. I walk through the door and<BR /> Joe says "Vic, you're back, thank<BR /> god. Finally somebody who knows<BR /> what the fuck he's doing. Vic,<BR /> Vic, Vic, Eddie, my son, is a fuck<BR /> up." And I say "Well, Joe, I<BR /> coulda told you that." "I'm<BR /> ruined! He's ruining me! My son,<BR /> I love him, but he's taking my<BR /> business and flushing it down the<BR /> fuckin toilet!"<BR /> (to Joe)<BR /> I'm not tellin tales out of<BR /> school. You tell 'im Joe.<BR /> Tell 'im yourself.<BR /> </p><p> JOE<BR /> Eddie, I hate like hell for you to<BR /> hear it this way. But when Vic<BR /> asked me how's business, well, you<BR /> don't lie to a man who's just done<BR /> four years in the slammer for ya.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Eddie bobs his head up and down.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> EDDIE<BR /> Oh really, is that a fact?<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Eddie JUMPS Vic and they fall to the floor.<BR /> <p> The two friends, laughing and cussing at each other,<BR /> wrestle on the floor of Joe's office.<BR /> </p><p> Joe's on his feet yelling at them.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> JOE<BR /> (yelling)<BR /> Okay, okay, enough, enough!<BR /> Playtime's over! You wanna roll<BR /> around on the floor, do it in<BR /> Eddie's office, not mine!<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> The two men break it up. They are completely disheveled,<BR /> hair a mess, shirttails out. As they get themselves<BR /> together, they continue to taunt one another.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> EDDIE<BR /> Daddy, did ya see that?<BR /> </p><p> JOE<BR /> What?<BR /> </p><p> EDDIE<BR /> Guy got me on the ground, tried to<BR /> fuck me.<BR /> </p><p> VIC<BR /> You fuckin wish.<BR /> </p><p> EDDIE<BR /> You tried to fuck me in my<BR /> father's office, you sick bastard.<BR /> Look, Vic, whatever you wanna do<BR /> in the privacy of your own home,<BR /> go do it. But don't try to fuck<BR /> me. I don't think of you that<BR /> way. I mean, I like you a lot--<BR /> </p><p> VIC<BR /> Eddie, if I was a pirate, I<BR /> wouldn't throw you to the crew.<BR /> </p><p> EDDIE<BR /> No, you'd keep me for yourself.<BR /> Four years fuckin punks in the ass<BR /> made you appreciate prime rib when<BR /> you get it.<BR /> </p><p> VIC<BR /> I might break you, Nice Guy, but<BR /> I'd make you my dog's bitch.<BR /> You'd be suckin the dick and going<BR /> down on a mangy T-bone hound.<BR /> </p><p> EDDIE<BR /> Now ain't that a sad sight, daddy,<BR /> walks into jail a white man, walks<BR /> out talkin like a nigger. It's<BR /> all that black semen been shootin<BR /> up his butt. It's backed up into<BR /> his brain and comes out of his<BR /> mouth.<BR /> </p><p> JOE<BR /> Are you two finished? We were<BR /> talkin about some serious shit<BR /> when you came in Eddie. We got a<BR /> big problem we're tryin to solve.<BR /> Now Eddie, would you like to sit<BR /> down and help us solve it, or do<BR /> you two wanna piss fart around?<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Playtime is over and Vic and Eddie know it. So they both<BR /> take seats in front of Joe's desk.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> JOE<BR /> Now Vic was tellin me, he's got a<BR /> parole problem.<BR /> </p><p> EDDIE<BR /> Really? Who's your P.O.?<BR /> </p><p> VIC<BR /> Craig Koons.<BR /> </p><p> EDDIE<BR /> Koons? Oh shit, I hear he's a<BR /> motherfucker.<BR /> </p><p> VIC<BR /> He is a motherfucker. He won't<BR /> let me leave the halfway house<BR /> till I get some piece of shit job.<BR /> </p><p> EDDIE<BR /> You're coming back to work for us,<BR /> right?<BR /> </p><p> VIC<BR /> I wanna. But I gotta show this<BR /> asshole I got an honest-to-<BR /> goodness job before he'll let me<BR /> move out on my own. I can't work<BR /> for you guys and be worried about<BR /> gettin back before ten o'clock<BR /> curfew.<BR /> </p><p> JOE<BR /> (to Eddie)<BR /> We can work this out, can't we?<BR /> </p><p> EDDIE<BR /> This isn't all that bad. We can<BR /> give you a lot of legitimate jobs.<BR /> Put you on the rotation at Long<BR /> Beach as a dock worker.<BR /> </p><p> VIC<BR /> I don't wanna lift crates.<BR /> </p><p> EDDIE<BR /> You don't hafta lift shit. You<BR /> don't really work there. But as<BR /> far as the records are concerned,<BR /> you do. I call up Matthews, the<BR /> foreman, tell him he's got a new<BR /> guy. You're on the schedule. You<BR /> got a timecard, it's clocked in<BR /> and out for you everyday, and you<BR /> get a pay check at the end of the<BR /> week. And ya know dock workers<BR /> don't do too bad. So you can move<BR /> into a halfway decent place<BR /> without Koons thinkin "what the<BR /> fuck." And if Koons ever wants to<BR /> make a surprise visit, you're gone<BR /> that day. That day we sent you to<BR /> Tustin. We gotta bunch of shit<BR /> you needed to unload there.<BR /> You're at the Taft airstrip pickin<BR /> up a bunch of shit and bringing it<BR /> back. Part of your jab is goin<BR /> different places - and we got<BR /> places all over the place.<BR /> </p><p> JOE<BR /> (to Vic)<BR /> Didn't I tell ya not to worry?<BR /> (to Eddie)<BR /> Vic was worried.<BR /> </p><p> EDDIE<BR /> Me and you'll drive down to Long<BR /> Beach tomorrow. I'll introduce<BR /> you to Matthews, tell him what's<BR /> going on.<BR /> </p><p> VIC<BR /> That's great, guy, thanks a bunch.<BR /> (pause)<BR /> When do you think you'll need me<BR /> for real work?<BR /> </p><p> JOE<BR /> Well, it's kinda a strange time<BR /> right now. Things are kinda--<BR /> </p><p> EDDIE<BR /> --Nuts. We got a big meeting in<BR /> Vegas coming up. And we're kinda<BR /> just gettin ready for that right<BR /> now.<BR /> </p><p> JOE<BR /> Let Nice Guy set you up at Long<BR /> Beach. Give ya some cash, get<BR /> that Koons fuck off your back, and<BR /> we'll be talking to ya.<BR /> </p><p> EDDIE<BR /> Daddy, I got an idea. Now just<BR /> hear it out. I know you don't<BR /> like to use any of the boys on<BR /> these jobs, but technically, Vic<BR /> ain't one of the boys. He's been<BR /> gone for four years. He ain't on<BR /> no one's list. Ya know he can<BR /> handle himself, ya know you can<BR /> trust him.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Joe looks at Vic.<BR /> <p> Vic has no idea what they're talking about.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> JOE<BR /> How would you feel about pullin a<BR /> heist with about five other guys?<BR /> </p><p> VIC<BR /> What's the exposure like?<BR /> </p><p> JOE<BR /> Two minutes, tops. It's a tough<BR /> two minutes. It's a hold up,<BR /> daylight, during business hours,<BR /> dealing with a crowd. But you<BR /> have the fellas to deal with the<BR /> crowd. It's a jewelry store.<BR /> They're getting a big shipment of<BR /> South African diamonds on a<BR /> certain day. They're like a way<BR /> station. It's gonna get picked up<BR /> the next day and sent to Hamburg.<BR /> When you walk through the door,<BR /> you'll know right where to go for<BR /> the rich stones.<BR /> The fellas are good, me and Nice<BR /> Guy picked em. Nobody knows<BR /> anybody else. Nobody's connected.<BR /> I don't use connected guys for<BR /> this shit.<BR /> </p><p> VIC<BR /> What's the cut?<BR /> </p><p> JOE<BR /> Juicy, man, real juicy.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Toothpick Vic smiles.<BR /> <p> So does Nice Guy Eddie.<BR /> </p><p> CUT TO:<BR /> </p><p> <BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><B>15 INT. NICE GUY EDDIE'S CAR (MOVING) - DAY<BR /> </B><BLOCKQUOTE><p> Nice Guy Eddie is driving to the rendezvous talking on his<BR /> portable car phone. The sounds of the seventies are<BR /> coming out of his car radio in the form of "Love Goes<BR /> Where My Rosemary Goes" by Edison Lighthouse.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> EDDIE<BR /> (into phone)<BR /> Hey Dov, we got a major situation<BR /> here.<BR /> (pause)<BR /> I know you know that. I gotta<BR /> talk with daddy and find out what<BR /> he wants done.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE><BR /> FLASH ON<BR /> <p> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><B>16 INT. WAREHOUSE - DAY<BR /> </B><BLOCKQUOTE><p> The Cop is standing in the warehouse with his hands cuffed<BR /> behind his back. Mr. White, Mr. Pink and Mr. Blonde<BR /> surround him and proceed to beat the shit out of him.<BR /> "Love Grows .." PLAYS over the soundtrack.<BR /> </p><p> <BR /> 17 BACK TO NICE GUY EDDIE<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> EDDIE<BR /> (into phone)<BR /> All I know is what Vic told me.<BR /> He said the place turned into a<BR /> fuckin bullet festival. He took a<BR /> cop as hostage, just to get the<BR /> fuck out of there.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE><BR /> FLASH ON<BR /> <p> 18 WAREHOUSE<BR /> </p><p> The three men are stomping the cop into the ground.<BR /> </p><p> <BR /> 19 BACK TO EDDIE<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> EDDIE<BR /> (into phone)<BR /> Do I sound like I'm jokin? He's<BR /> fuckin driving around with the cop<BR /> in his trunk.<BR /> (pause)<BR /> I don't know who did that. I<BR /> don't know who has the loot, if<BR /> anybody has the loot. Who's dead,<BR /> who's alive, who's caught, who's<BR /> not...<BR /> I will know, I'm practically<BR /> there. But what do I tell these<BR /> guys about daddy?<BR /> (pause)<BR /> You sure that's what he said?<BR /> (pause)<BR /> Okay, that's what I'll tell em.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> CUT TO:<BR /> <p> <BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><B>20 EXT. WAREHOUSE - DAY<BR /> </B><BLOCKQUOTE><p> Three cars belonging to the other guys are parked outside<BR /> the warehouse.<BR /> </p><p> Eddie drives his car up to the warehouse. He gets out of<BR /> the car, looks at the other cars parked outside.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> EDDIE<BR /> (to himself)<BR /> Fucking assholes.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Eddie makes a beeline for the front door, BANGS it open,<BR /> and steps inside the warehouse.<BR /> <p> <BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><B>21 INT. WAREHOUSE - DAY<BR /> </B><BLOCKQUOTE><p> The robbers have the cop tied to a chair and are still<BR /> WAILING on him.<BR /> </p><p> Nice Guy Eddie walks in and everybody jumps.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> EDDIE<BR /> What in Sam Hill is goin on?<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Mr. Pink and Mr. White speak together.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. PINK Hey, Nice Guy, we got a cop. MR. WHITE<BR /> You're askin what's goin<BR /> on? Where the fuck is <BR /> Joe?<BR /> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> <p> Nice Guy sees Mr. Orange.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> EDDIE<BR /> Holy shit, this guy's all fucked<BR /> up!<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> No shit, he's gonna fuckin die on<BR /> us if we don't get him taken care<BR /> of.<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> We were set up, the cops were<BR /> waiting for us.<BR /> </p><p> EDDIE<BR /> What? Nobody set anybody up.<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> The cops were there waitin for us!<BR /> </p><p> EDDIE<BR /> Bullshit.<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> Hey, fuck you man, you weren't<BR /> there, we were. And I'm tellin<BR /> ya, the cops had that store staked<BR /> out.<BR /> </p><p> EDDIE<BR /> Okay, Mr. Detective, who did it?<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> What the fuck d'you think we've<BR /> been askin each other?<BR /> </p><p> EDDIE<BR /> And what are your answers? Was it<BR /> me? You think I set you up?<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> I don't know, but somebody did.<BR /> </p><p> EDDIE<BR /> Nobody did. You assholes turn the<BR /> jewelry store into a wild west<BR /> show, and you wonder why cops show<BR /> up.<BR /> </p><p> MR. BLONDE<BR /> Where's Joseph?<BR /> </p><p> EDDIE<BR /> I ain't talked to him. I talked<BR /> to Dov. Dov said he's comin out<BR /> here, and he's fucking pissed.<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> (to Mr. White)<BR /> I told ya he'd be pissed.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> (pointing to Mr.<BR /> Orange)<BR /> What are you gonna do about him?<BR /> </p><p> EDDIE<BR /> Jesus Christ, give me a fuckin<BR /> chance to breathe. I got a few<BR /> questions of my own, ya know.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> You ain't dying, he is.<BR /> </p><p> EDDIE<BR /> I'll call somebody.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Who?<BR /> </p><p> EDDIE<BR /> A snake charmer, what the fuck<BR /> d'you think. I'll call a doctor,<BR /> take care of him, fix 'm right up.<BR /> No, where's Mr. Brown and Mr.<BR /> Blue?<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> Brown's dead, we don't know about<BR /> Blue.<BR /> </p><p> EDDIE<BR /> Nobody saw what happened to Mr.<BR /> Blue?<BR /> </p><p> MR. BLONDE<BR /> Well, he's either dead or he's<BR /> alive or the cops got him or they<BR /> don't.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> DOLLY to MEDIUM on the cop.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> EDDIE (OS)<BR /> I take it this is the bastard you<BR /> told me about.<BR /> (referring to the<BR /> cop)<BR /> Why the hell are you beating on<BR /> him?<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> So he'll tell us who the fuck set<BR /> us up.<BR /> </p><p> EDDIE<BR /> Would you stop it with that shit!<BR /> You beat on this prick enough,<BR /> he'll tell ya he started the<BR /> Chicago fire. That don't<BR /> necessarily make it so. Okay,<BR /> first things fucking last, where's<BR /> the shit? Please tell me somebody<BR /> brought something<BR /> with them.<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> I got a bag. I stashed it till I<BR /> could be sure this place wasn't a<BR /> police station.<BR /> </p><p> EDDIE<BR /> Well, let's go get it. We also<BR /> gotta get rid of all those cars.<BR /> It looks like Sam's hot car lot<BR /> outside.<BR /> (pointing to Mr.<BR /> Blonde)<BR /> You stay here and babysit Orange<BR /> and the cop.<BR /> (referring to Mr.<BR /> Pink and Mr. White)<BR /> You two take a car each, I'll<BR /> follow ya. You ditch it, I'll<BR /> pick you up, then we'll pick up<BR /> the stones. And while I'm<BR /> following you, I'll arrange for<BR /> some sort of a doctor for our<BR /> friend.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> We can't leave these guys with<BR /> him.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Meaning Mr. Blonde.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> EDDIE<BR /> Why not?<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Mr. White crosses to Mr. Blonde.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Because this guy's a fucking<BR /> psycho. And if you think<BR /> Joe's pissed at us, that<BR /> ain't nothing compared to how<BR /> pissed off I am at him, for puttin<BR /> me in the same room as this<BR /> bastard.<BR /> </p><p> MR. BLONDE<BR /> (to Eddie)<BR /> You see what I been puttin up<BR /> with? As soon as I walk through<BR /> the door I'm hit with this shit.<BR /> I tell 'm what you told me about<BR /> us stayin put and Mr. White whips<BR /> out his gun, sticks it in my face,<BR /> and starts screaming "You<BR /> motherfucker, I'm gonna blow you<BR /> away, blah, blah, blah."<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> He's the reason the place turned<BR /> into a shooting gallery.<BR /> (to Mr. Pink)<BR /> What are you, a silent partner?<BR /> Fuckin tell him.<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> He seems all right now, but he<BR /> went crazy in the store.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> This is what he was doin.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Mr. White acts out Mr. Blonde shooting everybody in the<BR /> store.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. BLONDE<BR /> I told 'em not to touch the alarm.<BR /> They touched it. I blew 'em full<BR /> of holes. If they hadn't done<BR /> what I told 'em not it, they'd<BR /> still be alive.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> That's your excuse for going on a<BR /> kill crazy rampage?<BR /> </p><p> MR. BLONDE<BR /> I don't like alarms.<BR /> </p><p> EDDIE<BR /> What does it matter who stays with<BR /> the cop? We ain't lettin him go.<BR /> Not after he's seen everybody.<BR /> You should've never took him outta<BR /> your trunk in the first place.<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> We were trying to find out what he<BR /> knew about the set up.<BR /> </p><p> EDDIE<BR /> There is no fuckin set up!<BR /> (Eddie takes charge)<BR /> Look, this is the news. Blondie,<BR /> you stay here and take care of<BR /> them two. White and Pink come<BR /> with me, 'cuz if Joe gets here and<BR /> sees all those fucking cars<BR /> parked out front, he's going to be<BR /> as mad at me as he is at you.<BR /> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE><p> Eddie, Mr. White and Mr. Pink walk out of the warehouse<BR /> talking amongst themselves.<BR /> </p><p> <BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><B>22 INT. WAREHOUSE - DAY - MR. BLONDE AND COP<BR /> </B><BLOCKQUOTE><p> Mr. Blonde closes the door after them. He then slowly<BR /> turns his head towards the cop.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. BLONDE<BR /> Alone at last.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> <BR /> C.U. COP'S FACE.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. BLONDE (OS)<BR /> Now where were we?<BR /> </p><p> COP<BR /> I told you I don't know anything<BR /> about any fucking set up. I've<BR /> only been on the force eight<BR /> months, nobody tells me anything!<BR /> I don't know anything! You can<BR /> torture me if you want--<BR /> </p><p> MR. BLONDE (OS)<BR /> --Thanks, don't mind if I do.<BR /> </p><p> COP<BR /> Your boss even said there wasn't a<BR /> set up.<BR /> </p><p> MR. BLONDE (OS)<BR /> First off, I don't have a boss.<BR /> Are you clear about that?<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> He SLAPS the cop's face.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. BLONDE (OS)<BR /> I asked you a question. Are you<BR /> clear about that?<BR /> </p><p> COP<BR /> Yes.<BR /> </p><p> MR. BLONDE (OS)<BR /> Now I'm not gonna bullshit you. I<BR /> don't really care about what you<BR /> know or don't know. I'm gonna<BR /> torture you for awhile regardless.<BR /> Not to get information, but<BR /> because torturing a cop amuses me.<BR /> There's nothing you can say,<BR /> there's nothing you can do.<BR /> Except pray for death.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> He puts a piece of tape over the cop's mouth.<BR /> <p> <BR /> COP'S POV<BR /> </p><p> Mr. Blonde walks away from the cop.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. BLONDE<BR /> Let's see what's on K-BILLY'S<BR /> "super sounds of the seventies"<BR /> weekend.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> He turns on the radio.<BR /> <p> Stealer's Wheel's hit "Stuck in the Middle with You" PLAYS<BR /> over the speaker.<BR /> </p><p> NOTE: This entire sequence is timed to the music.<BR /> </p><p> Mr. Blonde slowly walks toward the cop.<BR /> </p><p> He opens a large knife.<BR /> </p><p> He grabs a chair, places it in front of the cop and sits<BR /> in it.<BR /> </p><p> Mr. Blonde just stares into the cop's/our face, holding<BR /> the knife, singing along with the song.<BR /> </p><p> Then, like a cobra, he LASHES out.<BR /> </p><p> A SLASH across the face.<BR /> </p><p> The cop/camera moves around wildly.<BR /> </p><p> Mr. Blonde just stares into the cop's/our face, singing<BR /> along with the seventies hit.<BR /> </p><p> Then he reaches out and CUTS OFF the cop's/our ear.<BR /> </p><p> The cop/camera moves around wildly.<BR /> </p><p> Mr. Blonde holds the ear up to the cop/us to see.<BR /> </p><p> Mr. Blonde rises, kicking the chair he was sitting on out<BR /> of the way.<BR /> </p><p> <BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><B>23 INT./EXT. WAREHOUSE - DAY - HANDHELD SHOT<BR /> </B><BLOCKQUOTE><p> We follow Mr Blonde as he walks out of the warehouse...<BR /> </p><p> ...to his car. He opens the trunk, pulls out a large can<BR /> of gasoline.<BR /> </p><p> He walks back inside the warehouse...<BR /> </p><p> <BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><B>24 INT. WAREHOUSE - DAY<BR /> </B><BLOCKQUOTE><p> ...carrying the can of gas.<BR /> </p><p> Mr. Blonde POURS the gasoline all over the cop, who's<BR /> BEGGING him not to do this.<BR /> </p><p> Mr. Blonde just sings along with Stealer's Wheel.<BR /> </p><p> Mr. Blonde LIGHTS up a match and, while mouthing:<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. BLONDE<BR /> "Clowns to the left of me,<BR /> Jokers to the right. Here I am,<BR /> stuck in the middle with you."<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> He moves the match up to the cop...<BR /> <p> ...When a bullet EXPLODES in Mr. Blonde's chest.<BR /> </p><p> The HANDHELD camera WHIPS to the right and we see the<BR /> bloody Mr. Orange FIRING his gun.<BR /> </p><p> We cut back and forth between Mr. Blonde taking BULLET<BR /> HITS and Mr. Orange emptying his weapon.<BR /> </p><p> Mr. Blonde FALLS down dead.<BR /> </p><p> Mr. Orange crawls to where the cop is, leaving a bloody<BR /> trail behind him.<BR /> </p><p> When he reaches the cop's feet he looks up at him.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. ORANGE<BR /> (feebly)<BR /> What's your name?<BR /> </p><p> COP<BR /> Jeffrey.<BR /> </p><p> MR. ORANGE<BR /> Jeffrey what?<BR /> </p><p> COP<BR /> Jeffrey Andrews.<BR /> </p><p> MR. ORANGE<BR /> Listen to me, Jeffrey<BR /> Andrews. I'm a cop.<BR /> </p><p> JEFFREY<BR /> I know.<BR /> </p><p> MR. ORANGE<BR /> (surprised)<BR /> You do?<BR /> </p><p> JEFFREY<BR /> Your name's Freddy something.<BR /> </p><p> MR. ORANGE<BR /> Freddy Newendyke.<BR /> </p><p> JEFFREY<BR /> Frankie Ferchetti introduced us<BR /> once, about five months ago.<BR /> </p><p> MR. ORANGE<BR /> Shit. I don't remember that at<BR /> all.<BR /> </p><p> JEFFREY<BR /> I do.<BR /> (pause)<BR /> How do I look?<BR /> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE><p> The gun-shot Mr. Orange looks at the kid's GASHED face and<BR /> the hole in the side of his head where his ear used to be.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. ORANGE<BR /> I don't know what to tell you<BR /> Jeffrey.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Jeffrey starts to weep.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> JEFFREY<BR /> That fucking bastard! That<BR /> fucking sick fucking bastard!<BR /> </p><p> MR. ORANGE<BR /> Jeffrey, I need you to hold on.<BR /> There's officers positioned and<BR /> waiting to move in a block away.<BR /> </p><p> JEFFREY<BR /> (screaming)<BR /> What the fuck are they waiting<BR /> for? That motherfucker cut off my<BR /> ear! He slashed my face! I'm<BR /> deformed!<BR /> </p><p> MR. ORANGE<BR /> And I'm dying. They don't know<BR /> that. All they know is they're<BR /> not to make a move until Joe Cabot<BR /> shows up. I was sent undercover<BR /> to get Cabot. You heard 'em, they<BR /> said he's on his way. Don't pussy<BR /> out on me now, Jeffrey. We're<BR /> just gonna sit here and bleed<BR /> until Joe<BR /> Cabot sticks his fuckin head<BR /> through that door.<BR /> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE><p> CUT TO:<BR /> </p><p> <BR /> INSERT: TITLE CARD "MR. ORANGE &amp; MR. WHITE"<BR /> </p><p> <BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><B>25 INT. DENNY'S - NIGHT<BR /> </B><BLOCKQUOTE><p> A tough-looking black man named HOLDAWAY, who sports a<BR /> Malcom X beard, a green Chairman Mao cap with a red star<BR /> on it, and a military flack jacket, digs into a Denny<BR /> bacon, cheese and avocado burger. He sits in a booth all<BR /> alone. He's waiting for somebody. As he waits, he<BR /> practically empties an entire bottle of ketchup on his<BR /> french fries, not by mistake either--that's just how he<BR /> likes it.<BR /> </p><p> We see Mr. Orange, now known as FREDDY NEWENDYKE, wearing<BR /> a high school letterman jacket, enter the coffee shop,<BR /> spot Holdaway, and head his way. Holdaway sees Freddy bop<BR /> towards him with a wide-ass alligator grin plastered<BR /> across his face.<BR /> </p><p> CAMERA DOLLIES FAST down AISLE to MEDIUM SHOT of Holdaway.<BR /> We fear Freddy OFF SCREEN.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> FREDDY (O.S.)<BR /> Say "hello" to a motherfucker<BR /> who's inside. Cabot's doing a job<BR /> and take a big fat guess who he<BR /> wants on the team?<BR /> </p><p> HOLDAWAY<BR /> This better not be some Freddy<BR /> joke.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> LOW ANGLE<BR /> <p> looking up at Freddy, who's standing at the table.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> FREDDY<BR /> It ain't no joke, I'm in there.<BR /> I'm up his ass.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> CU ON HOLDAWAY<BR /> <p> Holdaway just looks at his pupil for a moment, then<BR /> smiles.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> HOLDAWAY<BR /> Congratulations.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE><BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><B>26 EXT. DENNY'S - NIGHT<BR /> </B><BLOCKQUOTE><p> We see through the window of the restaurant Freddy slide<BR /> into the booth across from Holdaway. Freddy's doing a lot<BR /> of talking, but we can't hear what they're saying.<BR /> </p><p> <BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><B>27 INT. DENNY'S - NIGHT<BR /> </B><BLOCKQUOTE><p> FREEZE FRAME ON HOLDAWAY<BR /> </p><p> We are frozen on a MEDIUM CU of Holdaway listening to<BR /> Freddy. We HEAR RESTAURANT NOISE and Freddy OFF SCREEN.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> FREDDY (O.S.)<BR /> Nice Guy Eddie tells me Joe wants<BR /> to meet me. He says I should just<BR /> hang around my apartment and wait<BR /> for a phone call. Well after<BR /> waiting three goddamn days by the<BR /> fuckin phone, he calls me last<BR /> night and says Joe's ready, and<BR /> he'll pick me up in fifteen<BR /> minutes.<BR /> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE><p> The freeze frame ENDS. Holdaway comes suddenly up to<BR /> speed and says:<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> HOLDAWAY<BR /> Woo all picked you up?<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> From here to end we cut back and forth.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> FREDDY<BR /> Nice Guy. When we got to the<BR /> bar...<BR /> </p><p> HOLDAWAY<BR /> ...What bar?<BR /> </p><p> FREDDY<BR /> The Boots and Socks in Gardena.<BR /> When we got there, I met Joe and a<BR /> guy named Mr. White. It's a phony<BR /> name. My name's Mr. Orange.<BR /> </p><p> HOLDAWAY<BR /> You ever seen this motherfucker<BR /> before?<BR /> </p><p> FREDDY<BR /> Who, Mr. White?<BR /> </p><p> HOLDAWAY<BR /> Yeah.<BR /> </p><p> FREDDY<BR /> No, he ain't familiar. He ain't<BR /> one of Cabot's soldiers either.<BR /> He's gotta be from outta town.<BR /> But Joe knows him real well.<BR /> </p><p> HOLDAWAY<BR /> How can you tell?<BR /> </p><p> FREDDY<BR /> The way they talk to each other.<BR /> You can tell they're buddies.<BR /> </p><p> HOLDAWAY<BR /> Did the two of you talk?<BR /> </p><p> FREDDY<BR /> Me and Mr. White?<BR /> </p><p> HOLDAWAY<BR /> Yeah.<BR /> </p><p> FREDDY<BR /> A little.<BR /> </p><p> HOLDAWAY<BR /> What about?<BR /> </p><p> FREDDY<BR /> The Brewers.<BR /> </p><p> HOLDAWAY<BR /> The Milwaukee Brewers?<BR /> </p><p> FREDDY<BR /> Yeah. They had just won the night<BR /> before, and he made a killing off<BR /> 'em.<BR /> </p><p> HOLDAWAY<BR /> Well, if this crook's a Brewers<BR /> fan, his ass has gotta be from<BR /> Wisconsin. And I'll bet you<BR /> everything from a diddle-eyed Joe<BR /> to a damned-if-I-know, that in<BR /> Milwaukee they got a sheet on this<BR /> Mr. White motherfucker's ass. I<BR /> want you to go through the mugs of<BR /> guys from old Milwaukee with a<BR /> history of armed robbery, and put<BR /> a name to that face.<BR /> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE><p> Holdaway takes a big bite out of his burger.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> HOLDAWAY<BR /> (with his mouth full)<BR /> What kinds questions did Cabot<BR /> ask?<BR /> </p><p> FREDDY<BR /> Where I was from, who I knew, how<BR /> I knew Nice Guy, had I done time,<BR /> shit like that.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Holdaway's talked enough, he's eating his burger now. He<BR /> motions for Freddy to elaborate.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> FREDDY<BR /> He asked me if I ever done armed<BR /> robbery before. I read him my<BR /> credits. I robbed a few gas and<BR /> sips, sold some weed, told him<BR /> recently I held the shotgun while<BR /> me and another guy pulled down a<BR /> poker game in Portland.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> CAMERA MOVES from a MEDIUM on Freddy to a CU.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> HOLDAWAY (O.S.)<BR /> Didja use the commode story?<BR /> </p><p> FREDDY<BR /> Fuckin-A. I tell it real good,<BR /> too.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE><BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><B>28 INT. MEN'S ROOM - L.A. TRAIN STATION - NIGHT<BR /> </B><BLOCKQUOTE><p> Freddy and Holdaway at one of their many rendezvous.<BR /> Holdaway wears an extra large Lakers sweatshirt. Freddy<BR /> sits on one of the sinks, wearing his high school jacket,<BR /> looking at pieces of paper stapled together.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> FREDDY<BR /> What's this?<BR /> </p><p> HOLDAWAY<BR /> It's a scene. Memorize it.<BR /> </p><p> FREDDY<BR /> What?<BR /> </p><p> HOLDAWAY<BR /> A undercover cop has got to be<BR /> Marlon Brando. To do this job you<BR /> got to be a great actor. You got<BR /> to be naturalistic. You got to be<BR /> naturalistic as hell. If you<BR /> ain't a great actor you're a bad<BR /> actor, and bad acting is bull shit<BR /> in this job.<BR /> </p><p> FREDDY<BR /> (referring to the<BR /> papers)<BR /> But what is this?<BR /> </p><p> HOLDAWAY<BR /> It's a amusing anecdote about a<BR /> drug deal.<BR /> </p><p> FREDDY<BR /> What?<BR /> </p><p> HOLDAWAY<BR /> Something funny that happened to<BR /> you while you were doing a job.<BR /> </p><p> FREDDY<BR /> I gotta memorize all this shit?<BR /> </p><p> HOLDAWAY<BR /> It's like a joke. You remember<BR /> what's important, and the rest you<BR /> make your own. The only way to<BR /> make it your own is to keep sayin<BR /> it, and sayin it, and sayin it,<BR /> and sayin it, and sayin it.<BR /> </p><p> FREDDY<BR /> I can do that.<BR /> </p><p> HOLDAWAY<BR /> The things you gotta remember are<BR /> the details. It's the details<BR /> that sell your story. Now this<BR /> story takes place in this men's<BR /> room. So you gotta know the<BR /> details about this men's room.<BR /> You gotta know they got a blower<BR /> instead of a towel to dry your<BR /> hands. You gotta know the stalls<BR /> ain't got no doors. You gotta<BR /> know whether they got liquid or<BR /> powdered soap, whether they got<BR /> hot water or not, 'cause if you do<BR /> your job when you tell your story,<BR /> everybody should believe it. And<BR /> if you tell your story to somebody<BR /> who's actually taken a piss in<BR /> this men's room, and you get one<BR /> detail they remember right,<BR /> they'll swear by you.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE><BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><B>29 INT. FREDDY'S APARTMENT - DAY<BR /> </B><BLOCKQUOTE><p> Freddy paces back and forth, in and out of frame,<BR /> rehearsing the anecdote. He's reading it pretty good, but<BR /> he's still reading it from the page, and every once in a<BR /> while he stumbles over his words.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> FREDDY<BR /> ...this was during the Los Angeles<BR /> marijuana drought of '86. I still<BR /> had a connection. Which was<BR /> insane, 'cause you couldn't get<BR /> weed anyfuckinwhere then. Anyway,<BR /> I had a connection with this<BR /> hippie chick up in Santa Cruz.<BR /> All and my friends knew it. And<BR /> they'd give me a call and say,<BR /> "Hey, Freddy, you buyin some, you<BR /> think you could buy me some too?"<BR /> They knew I smoked, so they'd ask<BR /> me to buy a little for them when I<BR /> was buyin. But it got to be<BR /> everytime I bought some weed, I<BR /> was buyin for four or five<BR /> different people. Finally I said,<BR /> "Fuck this shit." I'm makin this<BR /> bitch rich. She didn't have to do<BR /> jack shit, she never even had to<BR /> meet these people. I was fuckin<BR /> doin all the work. So I got<BR /> together with her and told her,<BR /> "Hey, I'm sick of this shit. I'm<BR /> comin through for everybody, and<BR /> nobody's comin through for me.<BR /> So, either I'm gonna tell all my<BR /> friends to find their own source,<BR /> or you give me a bunch of weed,<BR /> I'll sell it to them, give you the<BR /> money, minus ten percent, and I<BR /> get my pot for free." So, I did<BR /> if for awhile...<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Freddy exits frame<BR /> <p> CUT TO:<BR /> </p><p> <BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><B>30 EXT. PARKING LOT - DAY<BR /> </B><BLOCKQUOTE><p> Another empty frame, except obviously outside. Freddy<BR /> enters frame from the same direction he exited in the<BR /> previous scene, finishing his sentence. When we move to a<BR /> wider shot we see Freddy performing his monolog to<BR /> Holdaway in a parking lot. Holdaway sits on the hood of<BR /> his beat-up car. Freddy paces back and forth as he<BR /> performs his story.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> FREDDY<BR /> ...but then that got to be a pain<BR /> in the ass. People called me on<BR /> the phone all the fuckin time. I<BR /> couldn't rent a fuckin tape<BR /> without six phone calls<BR /> interrupting me. "Hey, Freddy,<BR /> when's the next time you're gettin<BR /> some?" "Motherfucker, I'm tryin<BR /> to watch 'Lost Boys'-- when I have<BR /> some, I'll let you know." And<BR /> then these rinky-dink pot heads<BR /> come by--there's my friends and<BR /> everything, but still. I got all<BR /> my shit laid out in sixty dollar<BR /> bags. Well, they don't want sixty<BR /> dollars worth. They want ten<BR /> dollars worth. Breaking it up is<BR /> a major fuckin pain in the ass. I<BR /> don't even know how much ten<BR /> dollars worth is. "Well, fuck,<BR /> man, I don't want that much<BR /> around. If I have that much<BR /> around I'll smoke it." "Hey, if<BR /> you guys can't control your<BR /> smokin, that's not my problem.<BR /> You motherfuckers been smokin for<BR /> five years, be a adult about it."<BR /> Finally I just told my connection,<BR /> count me out. But as it turns<BR /> out, I'm the best guy she had, and<BR /> she depended alot on my business.<BR /> But I was still sick to death of<BR /> it. And she's trying to talk me<BR /> into not quitin.<BR /> Now this was a very weird<BR /> situation, 'cause I don't know if<BR /> you remember back in '86, there<BR /> was a major fuckin drought.<BR /> Nobody and anything. People were<BR /> livin on resin and smokin the wood<BR /> in their pipes for months. And<BR /> this chick had a bunch, and was<BR /> beggin me to sell it. So I told<BR /> her I wasn't gonna be Joe the Pot<BR /> Man anymore. But I would take a<BR /> little bit and sell it to my<BR /> close, close, close friends. She<BR /> agreed to that, and said we'd keep<BR /> the same arrangement as before,<BR /> ten percent and free pot for me,<BR /> as long as I helped her out that<BR /> weekend. She had a brick of weed<BR /> she was sellin, and she didn't<BR /> want to go to the buy alone...<BR /> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE><p> CUT TO:<BR /> </p><p> <BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><B>31 INT. BOOTS AND SOCKS BAR - NIGHT<BR /> </B><BLOCKQUOTE><p> Freddy, Joe, Nice Guy Eddie and Mr. White all sit around a<BR /> table in a red-lighted smokey bar. Freddy continues his<BR /> story. The crooks are enjoying the hell out of it.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> FREDDY<BR /> ...Her brother usually goes with<BR /> her, but he's in county<BR /> unexpectedly.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> What for?<BR /> </p><p> FREDDY<BR /> Traffic tickets gone to warrant.<BR /> They stopped him for something,<BR /> found the warrants on 'im, took<BR /> 'im to jail. She doesn't want to<BR /> walk around alone with all that<BR /> weed. Well, I don't wanna do<BR /> this, I have a bad feeling about<BR /> it, but she keeps askin me, keeps<BR /> askin me, finally I said okay<BR /> 'cause I'm sick of listening to<BR /> it. Well, we're picking this guy<BR /> up at the train station.<BR /> </p><p> JOE<BR /> You're picking the buyer up at the<BR /> train station? You're carrying<BR /> the weed on you?<BR /> </p><p> FREDDY<BR /> Yeah, the guy needed it right<BR /> away. Don't ask me why. So we<BR /> get to the train station, and<BR /> we're waitin for the guy. Now I'm<BR /> carrying the weed in one of those<BR /> carry-on bags, and I gotta take a<BR /> piss. So I tell the connection<BR /> I'll be right back, I'm goin' to<BR /> the little boys room...<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> CUT TO:<BR /> <p> <BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><B>32 INT. MEN'S ROOM - TRAIN STATION - DAY<BR /> </B><BLOCKQUOTE><p> MEDIUM ON FREDDY<BR /> </p><p> He walks through the door with a carry-on bag over his<BR /> shoulder. Once he's inside, he stops in his tracks. We<BR /> move into a CU.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> FREDDY (V.O.)<BR /> ...So I walk into the men's room,<BR /> and who's standing there?<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> FREEZE FRAME<BR /> <p> on Freddy standing in front of six Los Angeles County<BR /> Sheriffs and one German Shepherd. All of their eyes are<BR /> on Freddy. Everyone is frozen.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> FREDDY (V.O.)<BR /> ...six Los Angeles County Sheriffs<BR /> and a German Shepherd.<BR /> </p><p> NICE GUY EDDIE (V.O.)<BR /> They were waiting for you?<BR /> </p><p> FREDDY (V.O.)<BR /> No. They were just a bunch of<BR /> cops hangin out in the men's room,<BR /> talkin. When I walked through the<BR /> door they all stopped what they<BR /> were talking about and looked at<BR /> me.<BR /> </p><p> <BR /> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE>33 BACK TO BAR<BR /> <p> ECU MR. WHITE<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. WHITE<BR /> That's hard, man. That's a fuckin<BR /> hard situation.<BR /> </p><p> <BR /> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE>34 BACK TO MEN'S ROOM<BR /> <p> ECU GERMAN SHEPHERD<BR /> </p><p> barking his head off.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> FREDDY (V.O.)<BR /> The German Shepherd starts<BR /> barkin'. He's barkin' at me. I<BR /> mean it's obvious he's barkin' at<BR /> me.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> We do a slow 360 around Freddy in the men's room. We can<BR /> hear the dog barking.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> FREDDY (V.O.)<BR /> Every nerve ending, all of my<BR /> senses, the blood in my veins,<BR /> everything I has was screaming,<BR /> "Take off, man, just take off, get<BR /> the fuck outta there!" Panic hit<BR /> me like a bucket of water. First<BR /> there was the shock of it--BAM,<BR /> right in the face! Then I'm just<BR /> standin there drenched in panic.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> SLOW MOTION<BR /> <p> CAMERA does a PAN from face to face of the sheriffs.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> FREDDY (V.O.)<BR /> And all those sheriffs are lookin<BR /> at me and they know. They can<BR /> smell it. As sure as that fuckin<BR /> dog cam, they can smell it on me.<BR /> </p><p></p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> FREEZE FRAME<BR /> <p> Back to the same freeze frame shot of Freddy standing in<BR /> front of the sheriffs. It suddenly jerks to life, and<BR /> moves to speed. The dog is barking. Freddy moves to his<BR /> right, out of frame. We stay on the sheriffs. One<BR /> sheriff yells at the dog.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> SHERIFF #1<BR /> Shut up!<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> The dog quiets down. Sheriff #2 continues with his story.<BR /> A couple of the sheriffs look over at Freddy off screen,<BR /> but as Sheriff #2 talks, turn their attention to him.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> SHERIFF #2<BR /> So my gun's drawn, right? I got<BR /> it aimed right at him. I tell<BR /> 'em, "Freeze, don't fuckin move."<BR /> And the little idiot's lookin at<BR /> me, nodding his head "Yes," sayin<BR /> "I know...I know...I know."<BR /> Meanwhile his right hand is<BR /> creepin towards his glove box. So<BR /> I scream at him, "Asshole, you<BR /> better fuckin freeze right now!"<BR /> And he's still lookin right at me,<BR /> saying<BR /> "I know...I know...I know." And<BR /> his right hand's still going for<BR /> the glove box.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> The CAMERA PANS away from the sheriffs to Freddy, up<BR /> against the urinal, playing possum, pretending to piss.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> SHERIFF #2 (O.S.)<BR /> I tell 'im, "Buddy, I'm gonna<BR /> shoot you in the face right now if<BR /> you don't put your hands on the<BR /> fuckin dash." And the guy's<BR /> girlfriend, a real sexy Oriental<BR /> bitch, starts screamin at him,<BR /> "Chuck, are you out of your mind?<BR /> Put your hands on the dash like<BR /> the officer said." And then like<BR /> nothing, the guy snaps out of it<BR /> and casually puts his hands on the<BR /> dash.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Freddy finishes his playing possum piss, and walks past<BR /> the sheriffs over to the sink. The CAMERA PANS with him.<BR /> A sheriff is sitting on a sink. He looks down and watches<BR /> Freddy wash his hands.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> SHERIFF #1<BR /> What was he goin for?<BR /> </p><p> SHERIFF #2<BR /> His registration. Stupid fuckin<BR /> citizen, doesn't have the<BR /> slightest idea how close he came<BR /> to gettin shot.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Freddy finishes washing his hands. He goes to dry them,<BR /> but there's only those hand drying machines. Freddy turns<BR /> on the drying machine. He can't hear anything the<BR /> sheriffs say now. The sound of the machine dominates the<BR /> sound track.<BR /> <p> These following shots are SLOW MOTION.<BR /> </p><p> CU OF FREDDY<BR /> </p><p> CU of his HANDS, rubbing each other getting blown dry<BR /> </p><p> SHOT OF SHERIFFS talking. We can't hear them because of<BR /> the machine.<BR /> </p><p> CU OF MACHINE<BR /> </p><p> MEDIUM OF SHERIFF ON SINK, smoking a cigarette, glancing<BR /> over at Freddy.<BR /> </p><p> CU OF GERMAN SHEPHERD<BR /> </p><p> Machine turns off.<BR /> </p><p> CUT TO:<BR /> </p><p> <BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><B>35 INT. OFFICE - DAY<BR /> </B><BLOCKQUOTE><p> CU MUG SHOT OF MR. WHITE<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> FREDDY (OS)<BR /> That's him, that's Mr. White.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> FULL SCENE<BR /> <p> An office upstairs in the undercover division of the<BR /> police station.<BR /> </p><p> <BR /> TWO SHOT OF FREDDY AND HOLDAWAY<BR /> </p><p> look at mug shot.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> HOLDAWAY<BR /> Lawrence Dimick. Let's see what<BR /> we got on him.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> CU OF COMPUTER SCREEN<BR /> <p> the name DIMICK, LAWRENCE is typed in.<BR /> </p><p> <BR /> C.U. ENTER BUTTON IS PRESSED<BR /> </p><p> <BR /> C.U. OF FEMALE COMPUTER OPERATOR, JODIE SEIGEL.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> JODIE<BR /> This is your life, Lawrence<BR /> Dimick!<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> <BR /> C.U. OF COMPUTER PRINTER<BR /> <p> printing out sheet. The noise of the printer plays loud<BR /> over the soundtrack. Jodie's hand comes into FRAME and<BR /> tears sheet from the printer.<BR /> </p><p> CUT TO:<BR /> </p><p> <BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><B>36 INT. HOLDAWAY'S OFFICE - DAY<BR /> </B><BLOCKQUOTE><p> Holdaway sits behind his desk. Freddy sits on the edge of<BR /> the desk eating a Double-Double with cheese. They look<BR /> into the CAMERA.<BR /> </p><p> We hear Jodie's voice OFFSCREEN.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> JODIE (OS)<BR /> Lawrence "Larry" Dimick. Also<BR /> known as Lawrence Jacobs and Alvin<BR /> "Al" Jacobs. This guy is Mr. Joe-<BR /> Armed-Robbery. He's<BR /> a pro and he makes it a habit not<BR /> to get caught.<BR /> </p><p> <BR /> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> MEDIUM SHOT OF JODIE<BR /> <p> DOLLY slowly into C.U.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> JODIE<BR /> He's only been convicted twice,<BR /> which is pretty good for somebody<BR /> living a life of crime. Once for<BR /> armed robbery, when he was twenty-<BR /> one, in Milwaukee.<BR /> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE><p> <BR /> C.U. FREDDY<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> FREDDY<BR /> What was it?<BR /> </p><p> <BR /> </p><p> JODIE<BR /> Payroll office at a lumber yard.<BR /> First offense - he got eighteen<BR /> months. He didn't get busted<BR /> again until he was thirty-two.<BR /> And then it was a backdoor bust.<BR /> A routine vice squad roust. They<BR /> roust this bar, out buddy Lawrence<BR /> is in there knocking down a few.<BR /> He gets picked up. He's wearing<BR /> on his person an outlaw .45<BR /> automatic, apparently his weapon<BR /> of choice. Also, on his finger is<BR /> a diamond ring from a jewelry<BR /> store robbery a year earlier. He<BR /> got two years back inside for<BR /> that.<BR /> </p><p> <BR /> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> TWO SHOT OF HOLDAWAY AND FREDDY<BR /> <p> Freddy winces.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> FREDDY<BR /> Goddamn, that's hard time.<BR /> </p><p> <BR /> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> JODIE<BR /> So far, it's the only time he's<BR /> ever done.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE><BR /> CU HOLDAWAY<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> HOLDAWAY<BR /> Was this vice squad bullshit in<BR /> Milwaukee?<BR /> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE><p> <BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> JODIE<BR /> No. The vice squad roust was in<BR /> L.A. He's been in Los Angeles<BR /> since '77.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE><BR /> DOLLY BEHIND HOLDAWAY'S DESK<BR /> <p> from left to right.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> FREDDY<BR /> When did he do this time?<BR /> </p><p> JODIE<BR /> Back in '83, got out late '86. I<BR /> found something else out I think<BR /> you two should be aware of.<BR /> About a year and a half ago, up in<BR /> Sacramento, an undercover cop,<BR /> John Dolenz, worked his way into a<BR /> bank job. Apparently before the<BR /> job they found out he was a cop.<BR /> Now picture this: It's Dolenz's<BR /> birthday, a bunch of cops are<BR /> waiting in his apartment for a<BR /> surprise party. The door opens,<BR /> everyone yells "Surprise!", and<BR /> standing in the doorway is Dolenz<BR /> and this other guy sticking a gun<BR /> in Dolenz's ribs. Before anybody<BR /> knows what's going on, this<BR /> stranger shoots Dolenz dead and<BR /> starts firing two .45 automatics<BR /> into the crowd.<BR /> </p><p> HOLDAWAY<BR /> What happened?<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> The DOLLY moves behind Jodie.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> JODIE<BR /> It was a mess. Cops got hit,<BR /> wives got hit, girlfriends got<BR /> hit, his dog got hit. People got<BR /> glass in their faces. Three were<BR /> killed, six were wounded.<BR /> </p><p> FREDDY<BR /> They couldn't pin the killing on<BR /> one of the bank robbers?<BR /> </p><p> JODIE<BR /> They tried, but they didn't have a<BR /> positive I.D. and all those guys<BR /> had alibis. Besides, we really<BR /> didn't have anything on them. We<BR /> had the testimony of a dead man<BR /> that they were talking<BR /> about committing a robbery. They<BR /> never went ahead with the bank<BR /> job.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> The DOLLY completes its circle.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> FREDDY<BR /> And Larry Dimick was one of the<BR /> boys?<BR /> </p><p> JODIE<BR /> He was probably the one.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE><BR /> ON HOLDAWAY<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> HOLDAWAY<BR /> Just how sure are you with your<BR /> cover?<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> PAN to C.U. on Freddy.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> FREDDY<BR /> Today they may know something,<BR /> tomorrow they may know something<BR /> else. But yesterday they didn't<BR /> know anything.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE><BR /> C.U. OF MR. WHITE'S MUG SHOT<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> FREDDY (OS)<BR /> What's the next step?<BR /> </p><p> HOLDAWAY (OS)<BR /> Do what they told ya. Sit in your<BR /> apartment and wait for 'em to call<BR /> you. We'll have guys posted<BR /> outside who'll follow you when<BR /> they pick you up.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE><BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><B>35 INT. FREDDY'S APARTMENT - DAY<BR /> </B><BLOCKQUOTE><p> C.U. TELEPHONE<BR /> </p><p> It RINGS. Freddy answers it, we FOLLOW the receiver up to<BR /> his face.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> FREDDY<BR /> Hello.<BR /> </p><p> NICE GUY EDDIE (OS)<BR /> (through phone)<BR /> It's time. Grab your jacket--<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE><BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><B>36 INT. NICE GUY EDDIE'S CAR (PARKED) - DAY<BR /> </B><BLOCKQUOTE><p> C.U. of Nice Guy Eddie speaking into the car phone.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> EDDIE<BR /> --We're parked outside.<BR /> </p><p> FREDDY (OS)<BR /> (through phone)<BR /> I'll be right down.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> We hear the CLICK of Freddy hanging up through the phone.<BR /> Nice Guy places the receiver back in its cradle.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> EDDIE<BR /> He'll be right down.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE><BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><B>39 INT. FREDDY'S APARTMENT - DAY<BR /> </B><BLOCKQUOTE><p> The CAMERA follows Freddy as he hops around the<BR /> apartment getting everything he needs. He puts on<BR /> his jacket and slips on some sneakers.<BR /> </p><p> DOLLY fast toward the front door knob. Freddy's hand<BR /> comes into FRAME, grabs the knob, then lets go. We MOVE<BR /> UP to his face.<BR /> </p><p> Fear.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> FREDDY<BR /> (to himself)<BR /> Don't pussy out on me now. They<BR /> don't know. They don't know shit.<BR /> (pause)<BR /> You're not gonna get hurt. You're<BR /> fucking Baretta and they believe<BR /> every word, cuz<BR /> you're super cool.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> He exits FRAME. We stay put and hear the door open and<BR /> close OFF SCREEN.<BR /> <p> <BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><B>40 EXT. FREDDY'S APARTMENT - DAY<BR /> </B><BLOCKQUOTE><p> COPS' POV<BR /> </p><p> From inside an unmarked car across the street, the TWO<BR /> COPS watching Freddy see him walk out of his building and<BR /> up to Eddie's parked car.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> COP #1 (OS)<BR /> There goes our boy.<BR /> </p><p> COP #2 (OS)<BR /> I swear, a guy has to have rocks<BR /> in his head the size of Gibraltar<BR /> to work undercover.<BR /> </p><p> COP #1 (OS)<BR /> Do you want one of these?<BR /> </p><p> COP #2 (OS)<BR /> Yeah, gimme the bear claw.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Freddy gets into the car and it pulls into traffic.<BR /> <p> Cop #1 starts the engine and follows.<BR /> </p><p> <BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><B>41 INT. NICE GUY EDDIE'S CAR (MOVING) - DAY<BR /> </B><BLOCKQUOTE><p> Nice Guy Eddie is behind the wheel. Mr. Pink is<BR /> in the passenger seat. Freddy and Mr. White are in the<BR /> backseat together.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. PINK<BR /> ...Hey, I know what I'm talkin<BR /> about, black women ain't the same<BR /> as white women.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> (sarcastically)<BR /> There's a slight difference.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> The car laughs.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. PINK <BR /> Go ahead and laugh, you know what<BR /> I mean. What a while bitch will<BR /> put up with, a black bitch won't<BR /> put up with for a minute. They<BR /> got a line, and if you cross it,<BR /> they fuck you up.<BR /> </p><p> EDDIE<BR /> I gotta go along with Mr. Pink on<BR /> this. I've seen it happen.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Okay, Mr. Expert. If this is such<BR /> a truism, how come every nigger I<BR /> know treats his woman like a piece<BR /> of shit?<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> I'll make you a bet that those<BR /> same damn niggers who were showin<BR /> their ass in public, when their<BR /> bitches get 'em home, they chill<BR /> the fuck out.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Not these guys.<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> Yeah, those guys too.<BR /> </p><p> EDDIE<BR /> Let me tell you guys a story. In<BR /> one of daddy's clubs there was<BR /> this black cocktail waitress named<BR /> Elois.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Elois?<BR /> </p><p> EDDIE<BR /> Yeah, Elois. E and Lois. We<BR /> called her Lady E.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Where was she from, Compton?<BR /> </p><p> EDDIE<BR /> No. She was from Ladora Heights.<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> The black Beverly Hills. I knew<BR /> this lady from Ladora Heights<BR /> once.<BR /> (in a stuck up black<BR /> female voice)<BR /> "Hi, I'm from Ladora Heights, it's<BR /> the black Beverly Hills."<BR /> EDDIE<BR /> It's not the black Beverly Hills,<BR /> it's the black Palos Verdes.<BR /> Anyway, this chick, Elois, was a<BR /> man-eater-upper. I bet every guy<BR /> who's ever met her has jacked off<BR /> to her at least once. You know<BR /> who she looked like? Christie<BR /> Love. 'Member that TV show "Get<BR /> Christie Love"? She was a black<BR /> female cop. She always used to<BR /> say "You're under arrest, sugar."<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> I was in the sixth grade when that<BR /> show was on. I totally dug it.<BR /> What the fuck was the name of the<BR /> chick who played Christie<BR /> Love?<BR /> </p><p> EDDIE<BR /> Pam Grier.<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> No, it wasn't Pan Grier, Pan Grier<BR /> was the other one. Pan Grier made<BR /> the movies. Christie Love was<BR /> like a Pam Grier TV show, without<BR /> Pam Grier.<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> What the fuck was that chick's<BR /> name? Oh this is just great, I'm<BR /> totally fuckin tortured now.<BR /> </p><p> EDDIE<BR /> Well, whoever she was, Elois<BR /> looked like her. So one night I<BR /> walk into the club, and no Elois.<BR /> Now the bartender was a wetback,<BR /> he was a friend of mine, his name<BR /> was Carlos.<BR /> So I asked him "Hey, Carlos,<BR /> where's Lady E tonight?" Well<BR /> apparently Lady E was married to<BR /> this real piece of dog shit. I<BR /> mean a real animal. And<BR /> apparently he would so things to<BR /> her.<BR /> </p><p> FREDDY<BR /> </p><p> Do things? What would he do? You<BR /> mean like beat her up?<BR /> </p><p> EDDIE<BR /> Nobody knows for sure what he did.<BR /> We just know he did something.<BR /> Anyway, Elois plays it real cool.<BR /> And waits for the next time this<BR /> bag of shit gets drunk. So one<BR /> night the guy gets drunk and<BR /> passes out on the couch. So while<BR /> the guy's<BR /> inebriated, she strips him naked.<BR /> Then she takes some crazy glue and<BR /> glues his dick to his belly.<BR /> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE><p> The car reacts to how horrible that would be.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> EDDIE<BR /> I'm dead fuckin serious. She put<BR /> some on his dick and some on his<BR /> belly, then stuck 'em together.<BR /> The paramedics had to come and cut<BR /> it loose.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> The car reacts badly.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Jesus Christ!<BR /> </p><p> FREDDY<BR /> You can do some crazy things with<BR /> it.<BR /> </p><p> EDDIE<BR /> I don't know what he did to her,<BR /> but she got even.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Was he all pissed off?<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> How would you feel if you had to<BR /> do a handstand every time you took<BR /> a piss.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> The car laughs.<BR /> <p> <BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><B>42 EXT. WAREHOUSE - DAY<BR /> </B><BLOCKQUOTE><p> Nice Guy Eddie pulls up outside the warehouse.<BR /> The four men climb out of the car and follow Eddie inside.<BR /> </p><p> <BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><B>43 INT. WAREHOUSE - DAY<BR /> </B><BLOCKQUOTE><p> The four men enter the building.<BR /> </p><p> At the other end of the warehouse, sitting in chairs, are<BR /> Mr. Blonde, Mr. Brown, Mr. Blue and Joe Cabot.<BR /> </p><p> We shoot this from OVERHEAD, looking down on the men.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> JOE<BR /> (to everybody)<BR /> ...So they're talkin about how<BR /> they get their wives off, and the<BR /> French guys says:<BR /> (in a bad French<BR /> accent)<BR /> "All I gotta do is take my pinky<BR /> and tickle my Fifi's little oo la<BR /> la and she rises a foot off the<BR /> bed."<BR /> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE><p> Back to Joe.<BR /> </p><p> So the dago says:<BR /> </p><p> <BR /> CU ON JOE<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> JOE<BR /> (in a good Brooklyn<BR /> accent)<BR /> "That's nothin. When I take the<BR /> tip of my tongue and wiggle it<BR /> against my Mary Louise's little<BR /> fun pimple, she rises two feet off<BR /> da bed." Then our friend from<BR /> Poland says:<BR /> (in dumb voice)<BR /> "You guys ain't no cocksmen. When<BR /> I get through fuckin my Sophie, I<BR /> wipe my dick on the curtains and<BR /> you know what? She hits the<BR /> roof!"<BR /> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE><p> Joe laughs like a crazy man.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> JOE<BR /> Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> We hear a lot of laughing OFF SCREEN.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> JOE<BR /> Ain't that a masterpiece? Stupid<BR /> fuckin Polack, wipes his dick on<BR /> the drapes.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Joe's eyes greet the new arrivals.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> JOE<BR /> You're here, great!<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Joe EXITS C.U.<BR /> <p> We now have everybody from the Uncle Bob's Pancake House<BR /> scene together again. Some sit on folding chairs, some<BR /> stand. Joe sits in front of them on the edge of a table.<BR /> A blackboard with a layout of the jewelry store is off to<BR /> the right.<BR /> </p><p> We do a 360 around the men.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> EDDIE<BR /> We woulda gotten here sooner, but<BR /> we got backed up around La Brea<BR /> and Pico.<BR /> </p><p> JOE<BR /> No hurry.<BR /> (to the boys)<BR /> All right, let's get to know one<BR /> another. With the exception of<BR /> Eddie and myself, who you already<BR /> know, you'll be using aliases.<BR /> Under no circumstances are you to<BR /> tell one another your real name or<BR /> anything else about yourself.<BR /> That includes where you're from,<BR /> your wife's name, where you<BR /> might've done time, about a bank<BR /> in St. Petersburg you might've<BR /> robbed. You guys don't say shit<BR /> about who you are, where you been<BR /> or what you've done. Only thing<BR /> you guys can talk about is what<BR /> you're going to do. This way the<BR /> only ones who know who the members<BR /> of the team are are Eddie and<BR /> myself. And that's the way I like<BR /> it. Because in the unlikely event<BR /> of one of you getting apprehended<BR /> by the cops, not that I expect<BR /> that to happen - it most<BR /> definitely should not happen - it<BR /> hasn't happened, you don't have<BR /> anything to deal with. You don't<BR /> know any names. You know my name,<BR /> you know Eddie's name. That I<BR /> don't care about. You gotta prove<BR /> it. I ain't worried. Besides,<BR /> this way you gotta trust me. I<BR /> like that. I set this up and<BR /> picked the men I wanted for it.<BR /> None of you came to me, I<BR /> approached all of you. I know<BR /> you. I know your work, I know<BR /> your reputation. I know you as<BR /> men. Except for this guy.<BR /> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE><p> Joe points a finger at Freddy.<BR /> </p><p> Freddy shits a brick.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> JOE<BR /> But he's OK. If he wasn't OK, he<BR /> wouldn't be here. Okay, let me<BR /> introduce everybody to everybody.<BR /> But once again, at the risk of<BR /> being redundant, if I even think I<BR /> hear somebody telling or referring<BR /> to somebody by their Christian<BR /> name...<BR /> (Joe searches for the<BR /> right words)<BR /> ...you won't want to be you.<BR /> Okay, quickly.<BR /> (pointing at the men<BR /> as he gives them a<BR /> name)<BR /> Mr. Brown, Mr. White, Mr. Blonde,<BR /> Mr. Blue, Mr. Orange, and Mr.<BR /> Pink.<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> Why am I Mr. Pink?<BR /> </p><p> JOE<BR /> Cause you're a faggot.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Everybody laughs.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. PINK<BR /> Why can't we pick out our own<BR /> colors?<BR /> </p><p> JOE<BR /> I tried that once, it don't work.<BR /> You get four guys fighting over<BR /> who's gonna be Mr. Black. Since<BR /> nobody knows anybody else, nobody<BR /> wants to back down. So forget it,<BR /> I pick. Be thankful you're not<BR /> Mr. Yellow.<BR /> </p><p> MR. BROWN<BR /> Yeah, but Mr. Brown? That's too<BR /> close to Mr. Shit.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Everybody laughs.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. PINK<BR /> Yeah, Mr. Pink sounds like Mr.<BR /> Pussy. Tell you what, let me be<BR /> Mr. Purple. That sounds good to<BR /> me, I'm Mr. Purple.<BR /> </p><p> JOE<BR /> You're not Mr. Purple, somebody<BR /> from another job's Mr. Purple.<BR /> You're Mr. Pink.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Who cares what your name is? Who<BR /> cares if you're Mr. Pink, Mr.<BR /> Purple, Mr. Pussy, Mr. Piss...<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> Oh that's really easy for you to<BR /> say, you're Mr. White. You gotta<BR /> cool-sounding name. So tell me,<BR /> Mr. White, if you think "Mr. Pink"<BR /> is no big deal, you wanna trade?<BR /> </p><p> JOE<BR /> Nobody's trading with anybody!<BR /> Look, this ain't a goddamn fuckin<BR /> city counsel meeting! Listen up<BR /> Mr. Pink. We got two ways here,<BR /> my way or the highway. And you<BR /> can go down either of 'em. So<BR /> what's it gonna be, Mr. Pink?<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> Jesus Christ, Joe. Fuckin forget<BR /> it. This is beneath me. I'm Mr.<BR /> Pink, let's move on.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> CAMERA leaves the team and goes to the blackboard<BR /> with the layout of the jewelry store on it.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> JOE (OS)<BR /> Okay fellas, let's get into this.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> CUT TO:<BR /> <p> <BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><B>44 EXT. BLEACHERS - DAY<BR /> </B><BLOCKQUOTE><p> Freddy and Holdaway sit on some bleachers in an empty<BR /> little league baseball field.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> HOLDAWAY<BR /> Okay, we're gonna station men<BR /> across the street from Karina's<BR /> Fine Jewelry. But their orders<BR /> will be not to move in unless the<BR /> robbery gets out of control. You<BR /> gotta make sure they don't have to<BR /> move in. You're inside to make<BR /> sure that everything goes<BR /> according to Hoyle. We have men<BR /> set up a block away from the<BR /> warehouse rendezvous. They got<BR /> complete visibility of the<BR /> exterior. So as soon as Joe Cabot<BR /> shows up, we'll see it.<BR /> </p><p> FREDDY<BR /> What's your visibility of the<BR /> interior?<BR /> </p><p> HOLDAWAY<BR /> We can't see shit on the inside.<BR /> And we can't risk gettin any<BR /> closer for fear they'll spot us.<BR /> </p><p> FREDDY<BR /> This is bullshit, Jim. I get all<BR /> the fuckin danger of having you<BR /> guys in my back pocket but none of<BR /> the safety.<BR /> </p><p> HOLDAWAY<BR /> What's the matter, Newendyke? Job<BR /> too tough for ya? No one lied to<BR /> you. You always knew we'd hang<BR /> back until Joe Cabot showed up.<BR /> </p><p> FREDDY<BR /> Oh this is great. You ain't<BR /> giving me no fuckin protection<BR /> whatsoever. But you are giving me<BR /> an attitude.<BR /> </p><p> HOLDAWAY<BR /> Since when does an undercover cop<BR /> have protection? Freddy, you came<BR /> into this thing with your eyes<BR /> wide open, so don't start screamin<BR /> blind man now. I understand<BR /> you're nervous. I wish the<BR /> warehouse had more visible<BR /> windows, but it doesn't. We have<BR /> to make do with the cards we're<BR /> dealt.<BR /> </p><p> FREDDY<BR /> I didn't say I wasn't gonna do it.<BR /> I'm just remarking on how shitty<BR /> the situation is!<BR /> </p><p> HOLDAWAY<BR /> I don't mean to be harsh with ya,<BR /> but I've found tough love works<BR /> best in these situations. We have<BR /> to get Joe Cabot in the company of<BR /> the thieves and in the same<BR /> vicinity as the loot.<BR /> We don't care about these other<BR /> bastards. We're willing to offer<BR /> them good deals to testify against<BR /> Cabot.<BR /> </p><p> FREDDY<BR /> Isn't this risk unorthodox?<BR /> </p><p> HOLDAWAY<BR /> What?<BR /> </p><p> FREDDY<BR /> Letting them go ahead with the<BR /> robbery?<BR /> </p><p> HOLDAWAY<BR /> The whole idea behind this<BR /> operation is to catch Joe Cabot<BR /> red-handed. We bust these hired<BR /> hands, we ain't accomplished shit.<BR /> Letting them go through with the<BR /> heist is a risk, but Cabot's jobs<BR /> are very clean. We got people<BR /> surrounding the perimeter. We got<BR /> a guy and a gal on the inside<BR /> posing as a couple shopping for<BR /> rings. We could replace the<BR /> employees with cops, but we'd run<BR /> the risk of tipping 'em off.<BR /> </p><p> FREDDY<BR /> That's out. They know the faces<BR /> of who works what shift.<BR /> </p><p> HOLDAWAY<BR /> These guys are professionals.<BR /> We're professionals. It's a risk,<BR /> but I think it's a calculated<BR /> risk.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE><BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><B>45 EXT. KARINA'S FINE JEWELRY - DAY<BR /> </B><BLOCKQUOTE><p> We see MOS SHOTS of the outside of the jewelry store.<BR /> </p><p> CUSTOMERS coming and going. STORE CLERKS waiting on<BR /> customers through the windows.<BR /> </p><p> While we look at this we HEAR over the soundtrack Mr.<BR /> White and Freddy talking OFF SCREEN.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. WHITE (VO)<BR /> Let's go over it. Where are you?<BR /> </p><p> FREDDY (VO)<BR /> I stand outside and guard the<BR /> door. I don't let anybody come in<BR /> or go out.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE (VO)<BR /> Mr. Brown?<BR /> </p><p> FREDDY (VO)<BR /> Mr. Brown stays in the car. He's<BR /> parked across the street till I<BR /> give him the signal, then he pulls<BR /> up in front of the store.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE (VO)<BR /> Mr. Blonde and Mr. Blue?<BR /> </p><p> FREDDY (VO)<BR /> Crowd control. They handle<BR /> customers and employees in the<BR /> display area.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE><BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><B>46 INT. MR. WHITE'S CAR (PARKED) - DAY<BR /> </B><BLOCKQUOTE><p> Mr. White and Freddy sit in a car parked across the street<BR /> from the jewelry store, staking it out.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Myself and Mr. Pink?<BR /> </p><p> FREDDY<BR /> You two take the manager in the<BR /> back and make him give you the<BR /> diamonds. We're there for those<BR /> stones, period. Since no display<BR /> cases are being fucked with, no<BR /> alarms should go off. We're out<BR /> of there in two minutes, not one<BR /> second longer. What if the<BR /> manager won't give up the<BR /> diamonds?<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> When you're dealing with a store<BR /> like this, they're insured up the<BR /> ass. They're not supposed to give<BR /> you and resistance<BR /> whatsoever. If you get a customer<BR /> or an employee who thinks he's<BR /> Charles Bronson, take the butt of<BR /> your gun and smash their nose in.<BR /> Drops 'em right to the floor.<BR /> Everyone jumps, he falls down,<BR /> screaming, blood squirts out his<BR /> nose. Freaks everybody out.<BR /> Nobody says fuckin shit after<BR /> that. You might get some bitch<BR /> talk shit to ya. But give her a<BR /> look, like you're gonna smash her<BR /> in the face next. Watch her shut<BR /> the fuck up. Now if it's a<BR /> manager, that's a different story.<BR /> The managers know better than to<BR /> fuck around. So if one's givin<BR /> you static, he probably thinks<BR /> he's a real cowboy. So what you<BR /> gotta do is break that son-of-a-<BR /> bitch in two. If you wanna know<BR /> something and he won't tell you,<BR /> cut off one of his fingers. The<BR /> little one. Then you tell 'im his<BR /> thumb's next. After that he'll<BR /> tell ya if he wears ladies<BR /> underwear. I'm hungry, let's get<BR /> a taco.<BR /> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE><p> CUT TO:<BR /> </p><p> <BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><B>47 EXT. ALLEY - DAY<BR /> </B><BLOCKQUOTE><p> It's the moment of the robbery. The alley is empty.<BR /> </p><p> In the distance we hear all hell breaking loose. Guns<BR /> FIRING, people SHOUTING and SCREAMING, sirens WAILING,<BR /> glass BREAKING...<BR /> </p><p> A car whips around the corner, into the alley.<BR /> </p><p> The doors BURST open, Freddy and Mr. White hop out.<BR /> </p><p> Freddy opens the driver's side door. A bloody SCREAMING<BR /> Mr. Brown FALLS out.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. BROWN<BR /> (screaming)<BR /> My eyes! My eyes! I'm blind, I'm<BR /> fucking blind!<BR /> </p><p> FREDDY<BR /> You're not blind, there's just<BR /> blood in your eyes.<BR /> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE><p> Mr. White loads his two .45 automatics. He RUNS to the<BR /> end of the alley just as a police car comes into SIGHT.<BR /> </p><p> FIRING both .45's, Mr. White massacres everyone in the<BR /> patrol car.<BR /> </p><p> Freddy, holding the dying Mr. Brown, looks on at Mr.<BR /> White's ambush in shock.<BR /> </p><p> Mr. Brown lifts his head up, blood in his eyes.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. BROWN<BR /> Mr. Orange? You're Mr. Orange,<BR /> aren't you?<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> By the time Freddy turns his head back to him, Mr. Brown<BR /> is dead.<BR /> <p> Mr. White RUNS up to Freddy.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Is he dead?<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Freddy doesn't answer, he can't.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Did he did or not?<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Freddy, scared.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> FREDDY<BR /> I'm sorry.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> What? Snap out of it!<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Mr. White GRABS Freddy by the coat and YANKS him along as<BR /> he RUNS.<BR /> <p> They EXIT the alley and FLEE down a street.<BR /> </p><p> A car with a FEMALE DRIVER comes up on the two men.<BR /> </p><p> Mr. White JUMPS in her path, stopping the car. He points<BR /> his jun at her.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Get us outta here!<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Mr. White climbs into the backseat.<BR /> <p> Freddy starts to climb in.<BR /> </p><p> The Female driver comes up with a gun from under her seat.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. WHITE<BR /> The bitch's got a gun!<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> She SHOOTS Freddy in the stomach.<BR /> <p> On instinct Freddy brings up his gun and SHOOTS her in the<BR /> face.<BR /> </p><p> <BR /> C.U. ON FREDDY<BR /> </p><p> as he FALLS to the ground he realizes what's happened<BR /> to him and what he's done. SLOW MOTION.<BR /> </p><p> Mr White DRAGS the dead female driver out of the car. He<BR /> SHOVES Freddy in the backseat and DRIVES away.<BR /> </p><p> <BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><B>48 INT. GETAWAY CAR (MOVING) - DAY<BR /> </B><BLOCKQUOTE><p> Freddy holding his stomach and doubled over in pain is<BR /> CRYING.<BR /> </p><p> We replay the scene between Freddy and Mr. White in the<BR /> getaway car. Except this time, we never leave Freddy.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. WHITE (OS)<BR /> Just hold on buddy boy.<BR /> </p><p> FREDDY<BR /> I'm sorry. I can't believe she<BR /> killed me...<BR /> </p><p> <BR /> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> CUT FROM FREDDY IN THE BACKSEAT TO:<BR /> <p> <BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><B>49 INT. NICE GUY EDDIE'S CAR (MOVING) - DAY<BR /> </B><BLOCKQUOTE><p> Mr. Pink is behind the wheel, Nice Guy Eddie is in the<BR /> passenger seat going through the satchel with the<BR /> diamonds. Mr. White is in the backseat. The car is<BR /> SPEEDING back to the garage.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> EDDIE<BR /> (looking through the<BR /> case)<BR /> You know, all things considered,<BR /> this was pretty successful.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> I don't believe you just said<BR /> that.<BR /> </p><p> EDDIE<BR /> No, it was messy as hell, but do<BR /> you realize how much you got away<BR /> with? There's over two million<BR /> dollars worth of diamonds here.<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> I love this guy.<BR /> </p><p> EDDIE<BR /> Hey, what's done is done. We can<BR /> all sit around and have a big cry<BR /> about it or we can deal with the<BR /> situation at hand.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> The situation as hand isn't that<BR /> fuckin satchel. You and Joe have<BR /> a responsibility to your men.<BR /> </p><p> EDDIE<BR /> Hey, it's the best I could do.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> The man is fucking dying.<BR /> </p><p> EDDIE<BR /> And I'm telling you, Bonnie'll<BR /> take care of him.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> He needs a doctor, not a fuckin<BR /> nurse.<BR /> </p><p> EDDIE<BR /> Ask me how many doctors I called.<BR /> You wanna embarrass yourself, ask<BR /> me how many doctors I called.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Obviously not enough.<BR /> </p><p> EDDIE<BR /> Fuck you! You gotta little black<BR /> book, then whip is out. If not,<BR /> listen how it is. I called three<BR /> doctors and couldn't get through<BR /> to shit. Now, time being a<BR /> factor, I called Bonnie. Sweet<BR /> broad, helluva broad, and a<BR /> registered nurse. Told her a<BR /> bullshit story, upside: she said<BR /> bring him to her apartment.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> If he dies I'm holding you<BR /> personally responsible.<BR /> </p><p> EDDIE<BR /> Fuck you buddy boy! Okay, you<BR /> wanna play that way. I am<BR /> personally leaving myself<BR /> vulnerable with this Bonnie<BR /> situation. I don't think she'll<BR /> call the cops, but I don't know<BR /> for sure. But me being too nice-<BR /> a-fuckin-guy was willin to risk<BR /> it. But no fuckin more.<BR /> (he grabs his<BR /> portable phone)<BR /> I'm callin Bonnie back and tellin<BR /> her to forget it. You take care<BR /> of your friend, you know so much<BR /> about it.<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> Goddamnit, will you guys grow up!<BR /> </p><p> EDDIE<BR /> I don't need to grow up, my<BR /> friend. I am a grown up. I'm<BR /> being responsible, I'm taking care<BR /> of business.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Cut the shit! I don't think you<BR /> called anybody except some cooze<BR /> you once fucked, who happens to<BR /> wear orthopedic shoes. And I<BR /> don't think that's good enough<BR /> care for a gut-shot man.<BR /> </p><p> EDDIE<BR /> Yeah, well I don't give a flying<BR /> fuck what you think!<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> (to Mr. White)<BR /> Look, he's not sayin this bitch is<BR /> gonna operate on him. She's gonna<BR /> give him better attention than we<BR /> can until we can get a doctor.<BR /> Nobody's forgotten about doctors.<BR /> Joe'll get one in a snap. This is<BR /> something we're doing in the<BR /> meantime. I think both of you are<BR /> actin like a couple of assholes.<BR /> </p><p> EDDIE<BR /> Yeah, right. I arrange a nurse, I<BR /> leave myself wide open, and I'm an<BR /> asshole.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE><BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><B>50 INT. WAREHOUSE - DAY<BR /> </B><BLOCKQUOTE><p> MEDIUM SHOT on the door. Nice Guy Eddie, Mr. White and<BR /> Mr. Pink walk through it. They stop in their tracks.<BR /> </p><p> We see what they see. Mr. Blonde, lying on the ground,<BR /> shot full of holes. The cop slumped over in his chair, a<BR /> bloody mess, Mr. Orange lying at the cop's feet, holding<BR /> his wound. Eddie, Mr. White and Mr. Pink walk into the<BR /> shot.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> EDDIE<BR /> What the fuck happened here?<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Eddie runs over to his friend Mr. Blonde/Toothpick Vic.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. WHITE<BR /> (to Mr. Orange)<BR /> What happened?<BR /> </p><p> MR. ORANGE<BR /> (very weakly)<BR /> Blonde went crazy. He slashed the<BR /> cop's face, cut off his ear and<BR /> was gonna burn him alive.<BR /> </p><p> EDDIE<BR /> (yelling)<BR /> Who cares what he was gonna do to<BR /> this fuckin pig?<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Eddie whips out his gun and SHOOTS the cop. The cop and<BR /> the chair tip over. Eddie stands over him and SHOOTS him<BR /> once more.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> EDDIE<BR /> (to Mr. Orange)<BR /> You were saying he went crazy?<BR /> Something like that? Worse or<BR /> better?<BR /> </p><p> MR. ORANGE<BR /> Look, Eddie, he was pullin a burn.<BR /> He was gonna kill the cop and me.<BR /> And when you guys walked through<BR /> the door, he was gonna blow you to<BR /> hell and make off with the<BR /> diamonds.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> (to Eddie)<BR /> Uhuh, uhuh, what's I tell ya?<BR /> That sick piece of shit was a<BR /> stone cold psycho.<BR /> </p><p> MR. ORANGE<BR /> (to Eddie)<BR /> You could've asked the cop, if you<BR /> didn't just kill him. He talked<BR /> about what he was going to do when<BR /> he was slicing him up.<BR /> </p><p> EDDIE<BR /> I don't buy it. It doesn't make<BR /> sense.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> It makes perfect fuckin sense to<BR /> me. Eddie, you didn't see how he<BR /> acted during the job, we did.<BR /> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE><p> Mr. Pink walks over to the cop's body.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. PINK<BR /> He's right about the ear, it's<BR /> hacked off.<BR /> </p><p> EDDIE<BR /> (to Mr. Orange)<BR /> Let me say this out loud, just to<BR /> get it straight in my mind.<BR /> According to you, Mr. Blonde was<BR /> gonna kill you. Then when we came<BR /> back, kill us, grab the diamonds,<BR /> and scram. That's your story?<BR /> I'm correct about that, right?<BR /> </p><p> MR. ORANGE<BR /> Eddie, you can believe me or not<BR /> believe me, but it's the truth. I<BR /> swear on my mother's eternal soul<BR /> that's what happened.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> The CAMERA mover into a C.U. of Nice Guy Eddie.<BR /> <p> There's a long pause while he rolls over what Mr. Orange<BR /> has said. Finally:<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> EDDIE<BR /> You're a fuckin liar. Now why<BR /> don't you drop the fuckin fairy<BR /> tale and tell me what really<BR /> happened?<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE (OS)<BR /> He told you what really happened.<BR /> You just can't deal with it.<BR /> </p><p> MR. ORANGE (OS)<BR /> Okay, you're right, I'm lying.<BR /> Even though I'm fuckin dyin I'm<BR /> not above pullin a fast one. Get<BR /> rid of Blonde, we share his split<BR /> - no, scratch that, I shot him<BR /> 'cause I didn't like his hair<BR /> style. I didn't like his shoes<BR /> either. If it has just been his<BR /> hair, I'd've maybe, maybe I said,<BR /> let him live. But hair and<BR /> footwear together, he's a goner.<BR /> </p><p> EDDIE<BR /> The man you killed was just<BR /> released from prison. He got<BR /> caught at a company warehouse full<BR /> of hot items. He could've walked<BR /> away. All he had to do was say my<BR /> dad's name. But instead he shut<BR /> his mouth and did his time. He<BR /> did four years for us, and he did<BR /> 'em like a man. And we were very<BR /> grateful. So, Mr. Orange, you're<BR /> tellin me this very good friend of<BR /> mine, who did four years for my<BR /> father, who in four years never<BR /> made a deal, no matter what they<BR /> dangled in front of him, you're<BR /> telling me that now, that now this<BR /> man is free, and we're making good<BR /> on our commitment to him, he's<BR /> just gonna decide, right out of<BR /> the fuckin blue, to rip us off?<BR /> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE><p> Silence.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> EDDIE<BR /> Mr. Orange, why don't you tell me<BR /> what really happened?<BR /> </p><p> VOICE (OS)<BR /> Why? It'll just be more bullshit.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Eddie steps out of his C.U. and we see Joe Cabot standing<BR /> in the warehouse doorway. He walks into the room.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> JOE<BR /> (pointing to Mr.<BR /> Orange)<BR /> This man set us up.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> CAMERA does a 360 around the men.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> EDDIE<BR /> Daddy, I'm sorry, I don't know<BR /> what's happening.<BR /> </p><p> JOE<BR /> That's okay, Eddie, I do.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> (to Joe)<BR /> What the fuck are you talking<BR /> about?<BR /> </p><p> JOE<BR /> (pointing to Mr.<BR /> Orange)<BR /> That piece of shit. Workin with<BR /> the cops.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE MR. PINK EDDIE<BR /> What?<BR /> </p><p> JOE<BR /> I said this lump of shit is workin<BR /> with the LAPD.<BR /> </p><p> <BR /> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> MR. ORANGE'S POV<BR /> <p> Looking up from the floor at everybody.<BR /> </p><p> Joe looks down at Mr. Orange.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> JOE<BR /> Aren't you?<BR /> </p><p> MR. ORANGE (OS)<BR /> I don't have the slightest fuckin<BR /> idea what you're talkin about.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> (very calmly to Joe)<BR /> Joe, I don't know what you think<BR /> you know, but you're wrong.<BR /> </p><p> JOE<BR /> Like hell I am.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> (very calmly)<BR /> Joe, trust me on this, you've made<BR /> a mistake. He's a good kid. I<BR /> understand you're hot, you're<BR /> super-fuckin pissed. We're all<BR /> real emotional. But you're<BR /> barking up the wrong tree. I know<BR /> this man, and he wouldn't do that.<BR /> </p><p> JOE<BR /> You don't know jack shit. I do.<BR /> This rotten bastard tipped off the<BR /> cops and got Mr. Brown and Mr.<BR /> Blue killed.<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK<BR /> Mr. Blue's dead?<BR /> </p><p> JOE<BR /> Dead as Dillinger.<BR /> </p><p> EDDIE<BR /> The motherfucker killed Vic.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> How do you know all this?<BR /> </p><p> JOE<BR /> He was the only one I wasn't a<BR /> hundred percent on. I should have<BR /> my fucking head examined for goin<BR /> forward when I wasn't a hundred<BR /> percent. But he seemed like a<BR /> good kid, and I was impatient and<BR /> greedy and all the things that<BR /> fuck you up.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> (screaming)<BR /> That's your proof?<BR /> </p><p> JOE<BR /> You don't need proof when you got<BR /> instinct. I ignored it before,<BR /> but not no more.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> He WHIPS out a revolver and aims it at Mr. Orange.<BR /> <p> Mr. White brings his .45 up at Joe.<BR /> </p><p> Eddie and Mr. Pink are shook awake by the flash of<BR /> firearms.<BR /> </p><p> Eddie raises his gun, pointing it at Mr. White.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> EDDIE<BR /> Have you lost your fucking mind?<BR /> Put your gun down!<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Mr. Pink fades into the B.G., wanting no part of this.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Joe, you're making a terrible<BR /> mistake I can't let you make.<BR /> </p><p> EDDIE<BR /> Stop pointing your fuckin gun at<BR /> daddy!<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Joe, never taking his eyes off Mr. Orange.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> JOE<BR /> Don't worry, Eddie. Me and Larry<BR /> have been friends a long time, he<BR /> ain't gonna shoot. We like each<BR /> other too much.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Joe, if you kill that man, you die<BR /> next. Repeat, if you kill that<BR /> man, you die next!<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> We get many different angles of the Mexican standoff.<BR /> <p> <BR /> MEDIUMS ON EVERYBODY<BR /> </p><p> Mr. Orange holding his belly, looking from left to right.<BR /> </p><p> Joe pointing down on Mr. Orange. Not taking his eyes off<BR /> him.<BR /> </p><p> Mr. White pointing at Joe, looking like he's ready to<BR /> start firing any minute.<BR /> </p><p> Eddie scared shitless for his father, gun locked on Mr.<BR /> White.<BR /> </p><p> Mr. Pink walking backwards away from the action.<BR /> </p><p> Nobody says nothing.<BR /> </p><p> <BR /> FOUR SHOT<BR /> </p><p> of guys ready for violence. Mr. Pink in the B.G.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. PINK<BR /> C'mon, guys, nobody wants this.<BR /> We're supposed to me fuckin<BR /> professionals!<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Joe raises his head to Mr. White.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> JOE<BR /> Larry, I'm gonna kill him.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Goddamn you, Joe, don't make me do<BR /> this!<BR /> </p><p> JOE<BR /> Larry, I'm askin you to trust me<BR /> on this.<BR /> </p><p> MR. WHITE<BR /> Don't ask me that.<BR /> </p><p> JOE<BR /> I'm not askin, I'm betting.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Joe's eyes go back to Mr. Orange.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> EDDIE<BR /> Daddy, don't!<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Joe FIRES three times, HITTING Mr. Orange with every one.<BR /> <p> Mr. White SHOOTS Joe twice in the face. Joe brings his<BR /> hands up to his face, screaming, and falls to the ground.<BR /> </p><p> Eddie FIRES at Mr. White, HITTING him three times in the<BR /> chest.<BR /> </p><p> Mr. White brings his gun around on Eddie and SHOOTS him.<BR /> </p><p> The two men FALL to their knees, FIRING at each other.<BR /> </p><p> Eddie COLLAPSES, dead.<BR /> </p><p> Joe's dead.<BR /> </p><p> Mr. Orange lies perfectly still, except for his chest<BR /> heaving. The only SOUND we hear is his loud breathing.<BR /> </p><p> Mr. White is SHOT full of holes, but still on his knees,<BR /> not moving.<BR /> </p><p> Mr. Pink is standing motionless. Finally he grabs the<BR /> satchel of diamonds and RUNS out the door.<BR /> </p><p> We hear outside a CAR START. Then the SOUND of a BULLHORN<BR /> yells out:<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> POLICE FORCE (OS)<BR /> Freeze! Get out of the car and lie<BR /> face down on the ground!<BR /> </p><p> MR. PINK (OS)<BR /> Don't shoot!<BR /> </p><p> We now hear SIRENS, the SOUNDS of more CARS DRIVING UP,<BR /> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> MEN RUNNING to the warehouse.<BR /> <p> While all this noise is going on, Mr. White tries to stand<BR /> but FALLS DOWN. He somehow makes it to where Mr. Orange<BR /> lies.<BR /> </p><p> He lifts Mr. Orange's head, cradling it in his lap and<BR /> stroking his brow.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. WHITE<BR /> (with much effort)<BR /> Sorry, kid. Looks like we're<BR /> gonna do a little time.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Mr. Orange looks up at him and, with even more of an<BR /> effort:<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. ORANGE<BR /> I'm a cop.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Mr. White doesn't say anything, he keeps stroking Orange's<BR /> brow.<BR /> </BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> MR. ORANGE<BR /> I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.<BR /> </p><p> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Mr. White lifts his .45 and places the barrel between Mr.<BR /> Orange's eyes.<BR /> <p> The CAMERA MOVES into an EXTREME C.U. of Mr White.<BR /> </p><p> The SOUNDS of outside STORM inside. We don't see<BR /> anything, but we HEAR a bunch of shotguns COCKING.<BR /> </p></BLOCKQUOTE><CENTER> <p> POLICE FORCE (OS)<BR /> Freeze, motherfucker! Drop your<BR /> fucking gun!<BR /> <BR /> </p></CENTER><BLOCKQUOTE> Mr White looks up at them, smiles, PULLS the trigger.<BR /> <p> BANG<BR /> </p><p> We hear a BURST of SHOTGUN FIRE.<BR /> </p><p> Mr. White is BLOWN out of frame, leaving it empty.<BR /> </p><p> <BR /> </p><p> <BR /> <BR /><BR /> </body> </HTML>