{\rtf1\ansi\deff0{\fonttbl{\f0\fnil\fcharset0 Courier New;}}
\viewkind4\uc1\pard\lang1033\f0\fs20 GET SHORTY SCRIPT \par
Screenplay by Scott Frank \par
Based on the novel by Elmore Leonard \par
BLACK \par
MAN'S VOICE: Looks fuckin' cold out there. \par
EXT. VESUVIO'S RESTAURANT -- MIAMI DAY \par
It is cold. People walk by hugging themselves, pulling up their collars, etc. \par
INT. VESUVIO'S RESTAURANT -- SAME TIME \par
CHILI PALMER, late thirties, sits in a booth with TOMMY CARLO, a low level mob type. Chili smokes a cigarette, stares out the window at the people on the street. \par
TOMMY: Guy on the radio said it's gonna get down to thirty-four. \par
Chili watches a woman on the sidewalk pause to tighten the scarf around her neck . . . She looks in the window, sees Chili looking out. \par
TOMMY: Thirty-four -- that's freezing, for Christ sake. (then) Yo, Chili, you're spacin'. \par
Chili turns and studies Tommy a moment, then . . . \par
CHILI: They're closing the Granview. You know, theater down on Biscayne? \par
TOMMY: Yeah, the guy owes Momo a few G's. \par
CHILI: What I'm thinkin' is maybe Momo could buy it. \par
Tommy looks at him. \par
CHILI: Momo could buy it, I could run it for him. Show some Cagney films. \par
TOMMY: What's Momo gonna want with an old place, shows old movies people don't care about no more. Outside of maybe turnin' it into a porno house, I don't think he's gonna give much of a fuck. And you already got a job. \par
Chili looks back out the window again. \par
CHILI: Yeah. \par
We hear LAUGHTER O. S. and then FOCUS on the window so that Chili can now see a GROUP OF MEN reflected there, sitting at a table nearby. We hear MORE LAUGHTER and now Chili turns and looks over at . . . \par
RAY "BONES" BARBONI \par
Mob guy: tall, loud suit with lots of jewelry. As he gets up from the table, the other men around the table follow his lead as he finishes up some jokes . . . \par
MOB GUY: . . . so the guy says, I'm not the tailor, I'm the undertaker. \par
The men laugh again, more out of respect than appreciation. Ray Bones turns, sees . . . \par
CHILI and Tommy sitting in their booth. Tommy, sucking on a toothpick, waves. \par
TOMMY: Ray. How you doing? \par
RAY BONES: Okay, Tommy. You? \par
TOMMY: Okay. \par
Bones focuses on Chili, waits for acknowledgement. But Chili turns back to the window. Always the peacemaker, Tommy smiles at Bones again . . . \par
TOMMY: You believe this weather, Ray? Miami Beach, for Christ's sake. \par
RAY BONES: (ignoring him) Chili Palmer. (smiles) Chilly outside. Chili inside. It's a regular fuckin' chili-fest. Hey, waiter -- give Mr. Chili Pepper a big fuckin' bowl of chili! \par
Again the men all laugh respectfully at Ray Bone's stupid joke. Chili smiles the best he can at the idiot . . . \par
CHILI: Good to see you, Ray. \par
He turns back to the window, watches Ray Bones in the reflection, still cracking up as he and his men head for the front of the restaurant. Tommy looks at Chili for a moment, then stands up . . . \par
TOMMY: You done starin' out the window, I'll see you back at the office. \par
Chili nods, but still doesn't turn from the window. He merely watches in the glass as Tommy turns up his collar and steps out into the cold Miami day. \par
TOMMY: Jesus. It's freezin'! \par
Chili then puts out the cigarette, nods to the waiter who comes over with the check. \par
INT. RESTAURANT COATROOM -- A FEW MINUTES LATER \par
From inside the tiny room. A couple of ratty rain coats and an old flight jacket hang to one side in immediate f.g. as Chili steps into the doorway and freezes. He looks o.s. and whistles . . . \par
CHILI: Hey. \par
A moment later the MANAGER, an old Italian guy in a black suit, joins him in the doorway. \par
CHILI: What happened to my coat? \par
The Manager peers into the room . . . \par
MANAGER: It's not one of these? \par
CHILI: You see a black leather jacket, fingertip length, like the one Pacino wore in Serpico? You don't, you owe me three seventy-nine. \par
MANAGER: Maybe you don't see my sign? \par
The manager points to a sign on the wall: 'WE CANNOT BE RESPONSIBLE FOR LOST ARTICLES.' \par
CHILI: Look, I didn't come down to sunny Florida to freeze my ass. You follow me? You get the coat back or you give me the three seventy-nine my ex-wife paid for it at Alexander's. \par
The Manager looks o.s., and begins speaking in Italian. Chili reacts as we hear the name RAY BARBONI mentioned a couple of times. \par
MANAGER: Explain to him how Mr. Barboni borrow the coat. \par
A WAITER joins Chili and the Manager in the doorway. \par
CHILI: Ray Bones took my coat? Just now? \par
WAITER: He didn't take it. He borrow it. See, someone took his coat, you know . . . (indicates flight jacket) . . . leave this old one. So Mr. Barboni, he put on this other coat that fit him pretty good. \par
CHILI: You mean my coat. \par
WAITER: He was wearing it, you know, to go home. He wasn't gonna keep it. \par
CHILI: My car keys were in that coat. \par
MANAGER: We call you a taxi. \par
CHILI: Lemme get this straight. You aren't responsible for any lost articles like an expensive coat of mine, but you're gonna find Ray Bones' coat or get him a new one? Is that what you're telling me? \par
MANAGER: Mr. Barboni a good customer. (making sure to add) Works for Jimmy Capp. \par
CHILI: I know who he works for. Where's your phone. \par
INT. TOMMY CARLO'S CAR -- DAY \par
Tommy drives. Chili stares straight ahead, rubs his hands together, tries to stay warm . . . \par
TOMMY: You sure it was Ray Bones took the coat? \par
CHILI: That's what the guy said. \par
TOMMY: (nervous now) Tomorrow, I see on the TV weather, it's gonna be nice and warm. You won't need the coat. \par
Chili points out the window. \par
CHILI: This is it. \par
EXT. VICTOR HOTEL -- DAY \par
As Tommy pulls up out front. \par
INT. CAR -- SAME TIME \par
Tommy looks up at the hotel as Chili takes a pair of leather gloves from top of the dash, opens the door. Tommy looks over at him. \par
TOMMY: Hey, Chili. (Chili pauses) Get your coat, but don't piss the guy off, okay? It could get complicated and we'd have to call Momo to straighten it out. Then Momo gets pissed for wasting his time and we don't need that. \par
CHILI: Don't worry about it. I won't say any more than I have to, if that. \par
EXT. STAIRS -- DAY \par
Chili pulls on the gloves as he goes up the stairs to the third floor. \par
EXT. DOOR -- DAY \par
As Chili knocks on the door three times. He waits, pulls the right-hand glove on tight, so that when RAY BONES opens the door, Chili nails him. One punch. No need to throw the left. \par
RAY BONES: Jesus . . . Oh, God . . . \par
Chili then steps over him into the room and grabs his coat from a chair. He looks over at Ray Bones bent over, blood running from his nose and mouth, blood all over his hands, his shirt. \par
RAY BONES: Fuck, man . . . \par
Chili walks out. Doesn't say one word to Ray Bones. \par
EXT. BARBER SHOP -- DAY \par
A warmer day. The sun is shining. All is quiet. \par
INT. BARBER SHOP -- SAME TIME \par
The place is empty except for FRED and ED, the two old barbers sitting in the chairs, reading newspapers. \par
ED: You been there, haven't you? \par
INT. BARBER SHOP BACKROOM -- SAME TIME \par
A room Tommy and Chili use as an office. Chili sits at the desk making entries in the collection book. We can hear the two old barbers talling o.s. . . \par
FRED: (O.S.) Paris? Yeah, I been there plenty times. It's right offa Seventy-nine. \par
ED: (O.S.) Hell it is. It's on Sixty-eight. Seventeen miles from Lexington. \par
FRED: (O.S.) What're you talking about, Paris, Kentucky, or Paris, Tennessee? \par
Silence. No answer to the question. Chili look up from the collection book, listens a moment to nothing. \par
He opens the desk drawer and pulls out a .38. He aims the gun at the open doorway . . . \par
OVER CHILI'S SHOULDER \par
As Ray Bones, a bandage on his nose, appears in the back hall, then the doorway to the office, his face showing surprise to see a gun aimed at him . . . \par
Ray Bones begins firing the big Colt auto in his hand, maybe before he's ready, the gun making an awful racket, when Chili pulls the trigger, shooting Ray Bones along the top of his head, creasing him from hairline to crown. \par
Chili calmly gets to his feet. Aims once more -- probably lower this time -- but doesn't fire as Ray Bones grabs his head and stumbles out of there. \par
RAY BONES: (O.S.) Somebody call 9 fucking 111. \par
EXT. MIAMI HARBOR -- DAY \par
Ray Bones, a bandage on his head now as well as his nose, sits on a cigarette boat with his boss, JIMMY CAP and two bikini clad BABES, both of whom rub lotion on Jimmy. \par
JIMMY: Whatta you want me to do Ray? Go to war over a fuckin coat? You're lucky the guy didn't kill you. The coat was a Christmas present for Christ's sake. \par
RAY BONES: You gotta do somethin', Jimmy. This man's got no respect for us. \par
JIMMY: He's got no respect for you, and I don't gotta do shit. Chili Palmer don't work for me, he works for Momo up in Brooklyn. So as long as Momo's around, nothing happens to Chili Palmer. You understand? \par
As an angry Ray Bones sits back, we . . . \par
FADE TO BLACK \par
EXT. BROOKLYN STREET -- NIGHT \par
We TILT DOWN to REVEAL a dark Brooklyn street as a black Cadillac pulls to a stop in front of an older building. \par
VOICE: Momo. We're here. \par
Two big guys, BODYGUARDS, get out of the car. One of them opens the back door for a huge man, MOMO, who gets out of the car and looks up at the dark building . . . \par
MOMO: You check this place out good? If I'm going up alone, I don't want no surprises. \par
BODYGUARD: I checked it out, boss. \par
INT. BROOKLYN TENEMENT BUILDING -- NIGHT \par
Momo eyes the bodyguards -- both nervous -- then starts up the steps. We follow Momo as he enters the building, goes up the dark stairwell . . . up one flight . . . we're behind him the whole time . . . \par
When he gets to the top floor, Momo pauses to catch his breath, before moving on down the hall to a door. Momo knocks. \par
VOICE: Yeah? \par
MOMO: It's Momo. \par
VOICE: Come in. \par
Momo slowly opens the door . . . when, suddenly, the apartment is FLOODED WITH LIGHT so that we see a room full of PEOPLE, a banner on the back wall reading 'HAPPY SIXTY-FIFTH, MOMO!' \par
EVERYONE: Surprise! \par
Silence as Momo drops to his knees, gurgles something we can't understand and falls over. Suddenly a dozen faces are looking down on us as we then . . . \par
CUT TO: EXT. BARBER SHOP -- DAY \par
A beautiful day in Miami. \par
CHILI: (V.O.) So what're you tellin' me, you're never gonna go to sleep again? \par
INT. BARBER SHOP -- DAY \par
Chili and Tommy each sit in a barber chair, reading the newspaper while Fred and Ed sit nearby playing checkers. \par
TOMMY: No, I said I'm never goin' to bed. There's a difference. See, the article says most people die in their beds. I figure long as I stay outta bed, I'm safe. \par
CHILI: That's the dumbest thing I ever heard. Where do you sleep? \par
TOMMY: In an armchair. Or I go to a coffee shop, sleep there. Sit in a booth, pull my hat down. \par
A car pulls up. Chili's no longer listening to Tommy, but now watching as Ray Bones and a BLACK GUY get out of the car. \par
TOMMY: How many people you hear ever die in a coffee shop? \par
Tommy looks over as Ray Bones -- smaller bandage on the top of his head -- and his man enter the shop. \par
RAY BONES: You cut straight hair in this place, or just fags? \par
CHILI: Hey, Bones, looks like you're gonna have a nice scar up there. Maybe these guys can fit you with a rug, cover it up for ya. \par
Ray Bones eyes Chili, then nods to Fred and Ed. \par
RAY BONES: Why don't you geezers take your game over to the park. \par
The two guys leave as the Black Guy steps up to Chili . . . \par
BLACK GUY: This man is the man, you understand what I'm saying? He's Mr. Bones, you speak to him from now on. \par
Chili exchanges a look with Tommy, watches as 'Mr. Bones' goes down the hall into the back office, then turns to the black guy . . . \par
CHILI: You can do better'n him. \par
BLACK GUY: Not these days. Not less you can talk Spanish. \par
Ray Bones comes out with the collection book open, looking at all of the names of who owes what. \par
RAY BONES: You got a miss. Leo Devoe. Guy's six weeks over. \par
CHILI: He died. \par
RAY BONES: How'd you know he died, he tell you? \par
Ray Bones checks his man to get some appreciation, but the guy's too busy looking at the hair rinses and shit on the connter. \par
CHILI: Yeah, he told me. \par
RAY BONES: Personally? \par
CHILI: Yeah, Ray, he personally told me he got killed in that Get Away Airlines' jet went down last month. \par
RAY BONES: What Get Away jet? \par
CHILI: It was in the Herald. \par
RAY BONES: Yeah, well, maybe the guy took out flight insurance. Check with the wife. \par
CHILI: Hey, it's your book now. You want to check it out, go ahead. He's got a dry cleaning business out on Federal Highway. \par
Tommy gives Chili a look as the Black Guy comes over to Chili, stands next to him. Ray Bones steps over to Chili . . . \par
RAY BONES: Momo's dead. Which means anything was his now belongs to Jimmy Capp, including you. \par
Tommy watches as the Black Guy picks up a pair of scissors, runs his hand along the edge . . . \par
RAY BONES: Which also means when I speak, I'm speakin' for Jimmy. So e.g. as of now, you start affording me the proper respect. \par
CHILI: 'e.g.' means 'for example', Ray. I think what you wanna say is 'i.e.' \par
RAY BONES: Bullshit. E.g. is short for 'ergo'. \par
CHILI: Ask your man here. \par
Ray Bones looks at the Black Guy. \par
BLACK GUY: Best a my knowledge, e.g. means 'for example.' \par
RAY BONES: E.g., i.e., fuck you. The point is, I say jump, you say okay. Okay? \par
TOMMY: (for Chili) Yeah, Ray. Okay. \par
Ray Bones then nods to his man who grabs Chili, holds the point of the scissors to Chili's throat . . . \par
RAY BONES: You owe me the dry cleaner's fifteen grand plus the juice which is what another, uhh . . . \par
CHILI: Twenty seven hundred. \par
RAY BONES: Exactly. You either get it from the wife or out of your own pocket, I don't give a fuck. You don't ever hand me a book with a miss in it. \par
Ray throws the book at Chili and walks out, his man right behind him. Chili looks over at Tommy. \par
TOMMY: I told you not to -- \par
CHILI: Don't say a fuckin' word. \par
EXT. FAY DEVOE'S BACKYARD -- DUSK \par
Where Chili sits with FAY DEVOE -- thirties, attractive, in a sundress -- on her patio. They each have a drink . . . \par
FAY: I hate the dry cleaning business. I hate being inside all day, around all those machines. \par
CHILI: Must be hot. \par
FAY: You have no idea how hot it is. \par
She looks at him. Touches her drink to the side of her face. Chili finishes his drink, sets it down. \par
CHILI: I was wondering, Fay, if Leo had any life insurance. \par
FAY: I don't know of any. \par
They sit there in silence a moment. Fay reaches over, puts a hand on his leg . . . \par
FAY: I trust you, Chili. I think you're a decent type of man, even if you are a crook. \par
CHILI: Thank you Fay. \par
She finally looks at Chili . . . \par
FAY: I wish he really was dead, the son of a bitch. \par
EXT. LAS VEGAS -- NIGHT \par
The strip. Mesas Casino. \par
CUT TO: CLOSE UP OF PHOTOGRAPH \par
Leo Devoe. Standing with Fay at Epcot Center. \par
DICK: (V.O.) That's him all right. \par
PULL BACK TO REVEAL INT. DICK ALLEN'S OFFICE -- NIGHT \par
A sign on the door reads "DICK ALLEN, CUSTOMER RELATIONS." A bank of video monitors show the floor of the casino. Chili sits across the desk from DICK ALLEN -- lots of jewelry, a giant NEON COWGIRL out the window behind him. \par
DICK: Called himself Larry DeMille. Hit on every showgirl in town. Would tell 'em he was the 'Martinizing King of Miami'. What a moron. \par
He returns the snapshot to Chili. \par
DICK: Anyway, you want this guy, he's in L.A. We put him on a flight after he spanked one a my cocktail girls in the Keno room. \par
CHILI: Leo spanked a waitress? \par
DICK: Apparently, way it went, he invited her to come to Santa Anita to play the ponies with him. She told him what to do with that and he gave her one on the tush. My guess, he's by his lonesome at the track right now. \par
Chili nods. \par
DICK: Hey, Chil? Since you're goin' out to L.A. anyway. \par
CHILI: What've you got? \par
DICK: Guy owes us a hundred and fifty grand, sixty days over; a movie producer. \par
CHILI: Movie producer? Yeah, why not. \par
As Dick Allen reaches for a pad of paper, we hear THE SOUND OF AN AIRPLANE OVER. . . . \par
EXT. LAX RENTAL CAR LOT -- NIGHT \par
It's raining as we TILT DOWN from a LANDING AIRPLANE to a National Car Rental BUS arriving next to a tan MINIVAN. Chili eyes the car a moment, then turns to the driver. \par
CHILI: What is this? \par
ATTENDANT: An Oldsmobile Silhouette. \par
CHILI: I reserved a Cadillac. \par
ATTENDANT: Yeah, well, this one's the Cadillac of minivans. \par
CHILI: You're kidding me, right? \par
ATTENDANT: Hey, you want La Tierra Rent-A-Car just over there, but I think all they got are Rabbit convertibles. \par
Chili gives the driver a look then gets out of the bus, standing there in the rain, his seat getting wet, nowhere to go. He turns and stares at the minivan . . . \par
EXT. KAREN FLORES' HOUSE -- NIGHT \par
All the lights are out, save the BLUE GLOW of a television coming from one of the downstairs rooms . . . \par
WOMAN'S VOICE: (loud whisper) Harry? \par
INT. KAREN FLORES' BEDROOM -- NIGHT \par
As KAREN FLORES, pretty, endowed, sits up in bed wearing a Lakers T-shirt, nothing else. She looks at the big shape lying under the covers beside her. \par
KAREN: Harry. \par
The shape deesn't move. She shakes it. \par
KAREN: Harry, God damn it, somebody's downstairs. \par
The shape stirs, rolls over, and we see HARRY ZIMM, balding, overweight; a movie producer. He sits up. \par
HARRY: What's wrong? \par
KAREN: Be quiet and listen. \par
HARRY: I don't hear anything. \par
We hear VOICES downstairs. \par
KAREN: Shhh -- there. \par
And now LAUGHTER . . . \par
HARRY: Sounds like the television. \par
She looks at him . . . \par
KAREN: When I came upstairs, you stayed to finish your drink. I told you to turn off the TV when you were through. (an afterthought) Come to think of it, I also told you you could sleep in the maid's room. \par
HARRY: Yeah, well I turned off the set. I used the remote control thing and laid it on the floor. You know what could've happened? The dog came in and stepped on it, turned the TV back on. \par
KAREN: I don't have a dog. \par
HARRY. You don't? What happened to Muff? \par
KAREN: Harry, are you going down, or you want me to? \par
He grunts, gets out of bed. Starts looking around the room for his clothes. Harry looks out the window . . . \par
HARRY: Anyone skim the pool? It needs it. \par
KAREN: Harry -- \par
HARRY: I'm going. \par
INT. HALLWAY -- SAME TIME \par
The MONOTONE VOICES become louder and more distinct as Harry moves down the curved staircase in his shirt and boxer shorts. One of the voices is familiar . . . \par
We can see this is a nice place as Harry crosses the entry hall to a doorway, the FLICKERING LIGHT of the television emitting from inside the room. \par
Harry listens at the door. Yeah, it's David Letterman. \par
INT. KAREN'S STUDY -- SAME TIME \par
Harry moves into the glow of the big Sony, the rest of the room dark. On the tube, Dave is interviewing actor Martin Weir when suddenly the screen goes black and the desk lamp comes on. Harry jumps . . . \par
HARRY: Jesus Christ! \par
Chili leans into the light, keeps his tone quiet, controlled. \par
CHILI: Harry Zimm, how you doing? I'm Chili Palmer. \par
Harry presses a hand against his chest. \par
HARRY: Jesus, if I have a heart attack, I hope you know what to do. \par
CHILI: Where you been, Harry? \par
Harry lets his hand slide down over his belly, taking his time, wanting to show that he has it together now. \par
HARRY: Have we met? I don't recall. \par
CHILI: We just did. I told you my name's Chili Palmer. \par
Harry stares back, trying to figure out who this guy is. \par
HARRY: You're in pictures, right? \par
Chili smiles. Doesn't say anything. \par
HARRY: Did you stop to think what if I had a heart attack? \par
CHILI: You look okay to me, Harry. Come over here and sit down. Tell me what you been up to. \par
Harry takes one of the canvas director's chairs by the desk. He looks at a bottle of Dewars sitting there, runs a hand through his hair, thinks about a drink . . . \par
CHILI: Harry, look at me. \par
Harry brings his hand down. \par
HARRY: I'm looking at you. \par
CHILI: I want you to keep looking right here, okay? \par
HARRY: That's what I'm doing. \par
CHILI: You know Dick Allen, Mesa's Casino? \par
HARRY: Dick Allen's a very dear friend of mine. How far you want to go with this? \par
CHILI: We're there, Harry. You signed markers for a hundred and a half, you're over sixty days past due and you haven't told anybody what the problem is. \par
Harry looks at Chili. \par
HARRY: Jesus Christ, what're you, a collector for a fucking casino? You come in here, walk in the house in the middle of the fucking night? I thought you were an actor, auditioning, for Christ's sake. \par
Chili nods, almost smiles . . . \par
CHILI: Is that right? That's interesting. You thought I was acting, huh? \par
Harry pushes out of the chair, looks down at Chili. \par
HARRY: We'll see about this . . . \par
Harry grabs the phone, punches the 'O'. \par
HARRY: Operator, how do I get Las Vegas Information? \par
CHILI: Harry, lemme give you some advice. \par
Chili leans forward, hangs up the phone with his index finger, casually reaches for the rereiver . . . \par
CHILI: You don't want to act like a hard-on, you're standing there in your undies. You know what I'm saying? What you want to do is sit down and talk to me. \par
Harry sits down. Chili hangs up the phone. \par
CHILI: A marker's like a check, Harry. \par
HARRY: I know what a marker is. \par
CHILI: They don't want to deposit yours and have it bounce. That annoys them. So your dear friend Dick Allen's been calling, leaving messages on your machine, but you never get back to him. I happen to be in Vegas on another matter, and Dick asks me as a favor would I look you up. I follow you over here, see you in the window with this woman, looks a lot like that actress Karen Flores, was in Grotesque, except she's not blond anymore . . . \par
Harry's gaze moves to the bottle of scotch on the desk . . . \par
CHILI: You're not looking at me, Harry. \par
HARRY: Why do I have to keep looking at you? \par
CHILI: I want you to. \par
HARRY: You gonna get rough now, threaten me? I make good by tomorrow or get my legs broken? \par
CHILI: Come on, Harry -- Mesas? The worst they might do is get a judgment against you, uttering a bad check. I can't imagine you want that to happen, man in your position. \par
HARRY: Fuckin' basketball game. \par
Harry reaches for the bottle of scotch and pours himself drink. \par
HARRY: Tell Dick Allen I'll cover the markers in the next sixty days at the most. He doesn't like it, that's his problem. The prick. \par
Harry starts to take another drink, looks at Chili, not moving. \par
HARRY: So, you want me to call you a cab? \par
Chili shakes his head, keeps staring at Harry, but with a different expression now, more thoughtful, curious. \par
CHILI: You make movies, huh? \par
HARRY: I produce feature motion pictures, no TV. You mentioned Grotesque, that happened to be Grotesque Part II that Karen Flores was in. She starred in all three of my Slime Creatures releases you might have seen. \par
Chili nods, leans forward on the desk. \par
CHILI: I think I got an idea for a movie. \par
INT. KAREN FLORES' BEDROOM -- NIGHT \par
Karen is sitting up in bed, listening. We hear the muffled sonuds of Chili and Harry talking downstairs. She gets out of bed . . . \par
INT. HALLWAY -- SAME TIME \par
Chili and Harry's conversation gets louder as Karen descends the stairs. She peers into the study, but they're not in there . . . \par
INT. KITCHEN -- SAME TIME \par
Chili sits with Harry at a butcher block table, a bottle of Dewars and a couple of glasses now between them. \par
CHILI: Yeah, Leo wore these little plaid hats -- Miami, middle of the summer, this guy thinks no one's gonna notice he's balding, he wears a fuckin' hat. \par
Harry looks up past Chili, smiles. \par
HARRY: Karen? \par
Chili turns aronud and sees her standing in the doorway now, her arms folded across that chest, the Lakers T-shirt coming down just past her crotch. \par
HARRY: Karen, say hello to Chili Palmer. Chili, this is Karen Flores. \par
CHILI: Karen, it's a pleasure. How you doing? \par
KAREN: How did you get in the house? \par
HARRY: He's telling me an idea for a movie. It's not bad so far. (motions with his glass) Sit down, have a drink. (to Chili) Tell Karen, let's see what she thinks. \par
KAREN: Maybe you didn't hear me. \par
CHILI: The door from the patio, in back. \par
KAREN: You broke in? \par
CHILI: No, it was open. It wasn't locked. \par
KAREN: What if it was? \par
Chili doesn't say anything, just watches her, likes the way she's handling it. \par
HARRY: You want to hear this idea? It's about a dry cleaner who scams an airline out of three hundred grand. Go on, tell her. \par
CHILI: You just did. \par
HARRY: I mean, the way you told it to me. Start at the beginning, we see how the story line develops. \par
Chili looks at Karen. She leans in the doorway. \par
CHILI: Well, basically, this guy owes a shylock fifteen thousand, plus he's a few weeks behind on the vig, the interest you have to pay. \par
KAREN: I know what a vig is. \par
HARRY: It's the kind of situation, you don't pay, you get your legs broken. \par
CHILI: Or the guy thinks he could get 'em broken. You have to understand the loan shark's in business the same as anybody else. He isn't in it to hurt people. He's in it to make money. \par
EXT. LEO DEVOE'S HOUSE -- DAY \par
As we see Chili talking to Fay on the front porch. \par
CHILI: (V.O.) But the dry cleaner, we'll call him Leo, he's scared, doesn't know any better, so he takes off -- \par
INT. KAREN'S KITCHEN -- NIGHT \par
As Harry jumps in . . . \par
HARRY: That's Miami. He's going to Vegas. He's got a few bucks and he's thinking it's his only chance. \par
INT. AIRPLANE -- DAY \par
We see a fidgety LEO DEVOE, a little guy in a crummy suit and a little green hat sitting there in coach, looking around. \par
CHILI: (V.O.) Leo gets on a plane, ready to go, but the plane sits there at the gate, doesn't move. \par
Behind Leo sits a BRAT with his MOM and DAD. The parents are trying to entertain the kid with the G.I. Joes, other stuff they've brought along, but the kid spots Leo's hat as Leo looks up to listen to an announcement . . . \par
CHILI: (V.O.) They annonnce over the PA there's some kind of mechanical problem, they'll be there maybe an hour, but keep your seats in case they get it fixed sooner. \par
Leo gets really uncomfortable now . . . \par
CHILI: (V.O.) The guy's nervous, in no shape to just sit there, sweat it out. So he gets off the plane . . . \par
As Leo gets up from his seat, the kid knocks off Leo's little green hat, and we . . . \par
CUT TO: INT. MIAMI AIRPORT COCKTAIL LOUNGE -- DAY \par
As Leo downs a drink, looks around for the waitress . . . \par
CHILI: (V.O.) Goes in the cocktail lounge and starts throwing 'em down, one after the other. \par
He 's motioning to her for another, when we see a PLANE taxi past the window in the b.g . . . \par
CHILI: (V.O.) When the plane pulls away from the gate. \par
INT. KAREN'S KITCHEN -- NIGHT \par
As Harry interrupts. \par
HARRY: Without him. The guy's so out of it he doesn't even know it's gone. \par
CHILI: That's right. As a matter of fact . . . \par
INT. COCKTAIL LOUNGE -- DAY \par
A shit-faced Leo struggles to keep his head up as he watches the waitress look out the window and gasp . . . \par
CHILI: (V.O.) He's still in the lounge when a plane blows up on the runway . . . \par
We see a BIG FIREBALL in the b.g. as Leo's head hits the table. \par
INT. KAREN'S KITCHEN -- NIGHT \par
As Chili lights a cigarette. \par
CHILI: So when the guy finds out it was his flight, he can't believe it. If he'd stayed on that plane, he'd be dead. Right then he knows his luck has changed. If everybody thinks he's dead he won't have to pay back the fifteen or what he owes on the vig, four and a half a week. \par
Chili offers the pack to Karen. Karen doesn't move. \par
KAREN: The interest is four hundred and fifty dollars a week on fifteen thousand? \par
CHILI: That's right. Three percent. \par
KAREN: But a week. That's a hundred and fifty percent a year. \par
CHILI: A hundred and fifty-six. Some'll charge you more'n that, go as high as six for five on a short-term loan. So three a week's not too bad. \par
KAREN: A real bargain. \par
She shakes her head, keeps her arms folded. Chili watches her, likes the way she's giving it to him. \par
HARRY: Keep going. \par
CHILI: Well, since Leo's name was on the passenger list . . . \par
INT. AIRPORT HANGER -- DAY \par
As an FFA OFFICIAL leads Fay, a black veil over her face, amongst tables full of charred items . . . \par
CHILI: (V.O.) They bring his wife out to the airport where they're going through personal effects, whatever wasn't burned up. Leo's bags were on the plane, so the wife tells 'em what to look for, things only she would know about. \par
FAY REACTS as the FFA guy points to a LITTLE GREEN HAT on one of the tables. She grabs it, clutches it to her chest, pretends to faint. \par
INT. KAREN'S KITCHEN -- NIGHT \par
As Karen finds herself listening, despite herself. \par
CHILI: A couple days ago by, people from the airliner come to see his wife, tell her how sorry they are and all that their plane exploded and offer her a settlement, the amount based on what he would've earned operating the dry cleaner's the rest of his life. Leo had some kind of trouble with his kidneys, so they were giving him about ten years. \par
KAREN: How much is the wife offered? \par
Chili starts to speak, but Harry cuts him off. \par
HARRY: Three hundred grand, and they take it, money in hand, babe. The guy has his wife cash the check and he takes off for Las Vegas with the dough. Gets there, he's supposed to call her, tell her when to come out. But she never hears from him again. \par
Meanwhile, the guy's hot, runs the three hundred up to half a million . . . \par
CHILI: He comes to L.A. . . . \par
Harry raises his hand to stop Chili. He's rolling, turns to Karen now . . . \par
HARRY: It drives the guy nuts, he's winning but can't tell anybody who he is. You show in a back story his motivation, his desire to be famous, you know, pal around with celebrities, the headliners doing the big rooms. Now he's got the dough to buy his way in, mix with celebs and he can't resist . . . \par
Harry then turns back to Chili. \par
HARRY: So he comes to L.A. . . . \par
CHILI: I don't know about his wanting to meet celebrities, that's something new. But, yeah, he comes to L.A. Then after that, I don't know what happens. \par
Chili looks at Karen. Patient. Not moving. \par
HARRY: That's it? That's your movie? \par
CHILI: I said I had an idea, that's all. \par
HARRY: That's half a movie, with holes in it. Maybe forty minutes of screen time. You don't even have a girl, a female lead, and on top of that, there's no one to sympathize with, you don't have a good guy. \par
CHILI: The shylock's the good guy. \par
HARRY: The shylock? He's barely mentioned. And it's not believable the wife would get a settlement that fast. \par
KAREN: Harry doesn't realize it's a true story. \par
They both look at her now. \par
KAREN: That Miami flight that went down, it was on the news every day for about a week. Harry must've been busy. \par
HARRY: That's where you got the idea? \par
CHILI: Part of it, yeah. \par
HARRY: Wait a minute, you're not the guy, are you? The dry cleaner? \par
CHILI: You mean, Leo? \par
HARRY: You wouldn't be talking to me if you were. \par
CHILI: I'm not the guy, Harry. \par
HARRY: But you work for the casino? \par
CHILI: I'm out here looking for Leo. I just looked you up as a favor to your dear friend, Dick Allen. \par
HARRY: So you don't work for the casino? \par
KAREN: Harry, for God's sake . . . \par
They both look at her. \par
KAREN: He's the shylock. \par
She's staring at Chili again. Harry turns to him. \par
HARRY: Is that right, that's what you do for a living? \par
CHILI: What I did till recently. (looking at Karen) After I get done here I'll think about what I'm gonna do next. \par
KAREN: With your experience, you could always become an agent. Right, Harry? \par
HARRY: Yeah, that's what we need. More agents. \par
KAREN: Well. I got an audition tomorrow. \par
HARRY: No problem. You go on off to bed. \par
Karen looks at the two of them sitting there. Not about to move. \par
KAREN: What I'm saying, Harry, is I want you and your new buddy to get out of my house. \par
HARRY: Oh, yeah, sure. \par
CHILI: Nice meeting you, Karen. \par
She just looks at him, turns and walks out. Chili watches her go. Harry watches Chili, pours the last of the scotch into Chili's glass . . . \par
HARRY: I imagine in your line of work, there were times you had to get rough, you know, say one of your customers stopped paying. \par
CHILI: They always paid. \par
Harry nods, thinks a moment, then . . . \par
HARRY: You pack a gun? \par
CHILI: Not really. \par
HARRY: What does that mean? \par
CHILI: Maybe a few times I have. \par
HARRY: Ever shot anybody. \par
CHILI: Once. \par
HARRY: Really? You ever been arrested? \par
CHILI: I've been picked up a couple times. Loan sharking. Racketeering. But I was never convicted. I'm clean. \par
HARRY: Racketeering, that covers a lot of ground, doesn't it? \par
Chili looks at him. \par
CHILI: Why don't you get to the point, Harry? You want me to do something for you. \par
EXT. FAY DEVOE'S HOUSE -- MORNING \par
As a Cadillac Eldorado pulls up out front and Ray Bones and his man get out, check out the neighborhood . . . \par
RAY BONES: Hi, I'm Ray, a friend of Chili Palmer's. \par
INT. FAY DEVOE'S HOUSE -- MORNING \par
Fay watches as Ray Bones and his man go through her things. \par
RAY BONES: Have your spoken to Mr. Palmer since your husband . . . you know, blew up? \par
FAY: Maybe once or twice. \par
RAY BONES: (coming over) What was it you talked about? \par
FAY: Oh, nothing really? This and that. \par
Ray Bones hits Fay Devoe in the face. She drops to her knees and cries out. Ray Bones crouches down in front of her, puts a hand in her hair. \par
RAY BONES: Fay . . . (pulls her head up) Fay. \par
She looks at him. Afraid now, her nose is bleeding. Ray Bones smiles at her, strokes her hair. \par
RAY BONES: Fay, I want us to be friends. And friends don't hit each other, 'less they have to. (she nods) So whatta you say we start all over and you tell me exactly what the fuck is goin' on? \par
EXT. SUNSET BOULEVARD -- MORNING \par
As we BOOM DOWN from a massive billboard for the movie Bonaparte starring Martin Weir as Napoleon and begin tracking with Harry's eight-year-old, battered Mercedes . . . \par
INT. HARRY'S CAR -- SAME TIME \par
Harry drives, all the while gesturing with a lit cigarette. \par
HARRY: These guys, my investors, they run a limo service, came to me originally, put money in a few of my pictures and did okay, they're happy. So they come in on another deal -- this was back a few months ago when I was planning what would be my next picture, about this band of killer circus freaks that travel around the country leaving bodies in their wake. The characters, there's this seven-hundred-pound fat lady who has a way of seducing guys, gets them in her trailer -- \par
CHILI: Harry, look at me. \par
Harry looks at him. Chili takes away his cigarette. \par
CHILI: You're trying to tell me how you fucked up without sounding stupid, and that's hard to do. Let's just get to where you're at, okay? You blew the two hundred grand the limo guys gave you in Vegas on a basketball game and you haven't told 'em about it. Why not? \par
HARRY: Because they're not the type of guys would take it with any degree of understanding or restraint. The first thing they'd do is break my legs. \par
CHILI: You got that on the brain, Harry. If you're so scared of 'em why'd you take their money to Vegas to begin with? \par
HARRY: Because I need half a million to buy a script. \par
CHILI: For a movie? \par
HARRY: A blockbuster. But quality. No mutants or maniacs. This one's gonna be my Driving Miss Daisy. \par
CHILI: What's it called? \par
HARRY: Mr. Lovejoy. \par
CHILI: Mr. Lovejoy? That's the title? \par
HARRY: It's not bad when you know what it's about. \par
Harry pulls to the curb, faces Chili . . . \par
HARRY: Murray Saffrin, guy who wrote it, did all my Grotesque pictures, had it in a drawer for twenty years. He shows it to me one day, tells me he's got a star interested, would I produce it. \par
CHILI: Who's the star? \par
Harry points arross the street to the Cafe Med where we see a RED FERRARI convertible parked out the front. We see MARTIN WEIR and a WOMAN with jet-black hair sitting at a table . . . \par
HARRY: Two time academy award nominee, Martin Weir. \par
CHILI: Martin Weir. He played the mob guy that turned snitch in The Cyclone. \par
HARRY: One of his best parts. \par
CHILI: No, his best part was the cripple gay guy that climbed Mt. Whitney. \par
HARRY: Ride the Clouds. Good picture. \par
They watch Martin and the girl a moment . . . \par
CHILI: She looks familiar. \par
HARRY: She's a rock star. Every day, same time, they come down here and have breakfast. He has the egg white omelette; she has the banana pancakes. He sits facing west so he can see his billboard. She faces east so she has an excuse to wear the shades. \par
Harry pulls out, starts driving again . . . \par
HARRY: Anyway, Murray has this shrink, who also happens to be Martin's personal trainer's shrink. Murray gives the shrink the script and the shrink gives it to Martin's trainer who reads it to Martin while they work out, and Martin flips. Loves it. \par
CHILI: So what's the problem? \par
HARRY: The problem is Murray. He and a few other blocked screenwriters went river rafting down the Kern a few weeks ago. Murray never made it back. \par
CHILI: He drown? \par
HARRY: Heart attack. Apparently they brought a couple hookers along. \par
Chili nods, looks up at an ANGELYNE billboard . . . \par
HARRY: Doris, Murray's widow, finds out about this Martin Weir thing and says since Murray and I never had any written contract, she wants five hundred grand for the script. \par
CHILI: So you're thinking what if I was to put you next to my dry cleaner. Ask him if he wants to invest his money in a movie. \par
HARRY: That, or I'm thinking what if some tragic accident were to befall the widow Saffrin -- \par
CHILI: I'm not gonna pop her, Harry. \par
HARRY: Just a thought. \par
CHILI: But I could talk to the limo guys. Tell 'em to leave you alone for a while. Make the point in a way they'd understand it. \par
HARRY: You don't even know these guys. \par
CHILI: Harry, I probably know 'em better than you do. \par
HARRY: What do you get out of this? \par
CHILI: Let's see how we get along. \par
EXT. PARKING LOT -- DAY \par
BO CATLETT, black, tall, put together in a tan outfit: suit, shirt, tie, lies on the hood of a BLACK STRETCH LIMO, his back against the windshield, reading Daily Variety, a headline proclaiming 'BONAPARTE STANDS TALL AT THE B. O.' We hear the sonud of an AIRPLANE and he checks his watch. \par
He casually folds the newspaper as a 747 screams past directly overhead and we . . . \par
PULL BACK TO REVEAL: LAX -- DAY \par
As Bo Catlett pounds twice on the fender . . . \par
BO CATLETT: That's us. \par
INT. SOVEREIGN TERMINAL -- DAY \par
Bo Catlett walks through the terminal. We hear the arrival of the Miami flight annonnced over the PA as Catlett stops at one of the gates. \par
We see a plane pulling into the gate through the glass as Bo Catlett checks out the other people waiting to greet the flight . . . \par
Like, for example, the YOUNG DUDE in jeans and a wool shirt hanging out. \par
Bo Catlett studies him a moment, then sits down in one of the chairs. He looks over at . . . \par
A BIG MAN, bearded, wearing a loud Hawaiian shirt, and carrying a three-year-old GIRL in his arms. The girl licks an ice-cream, spilling some on Daddy's shirt . . . \par
Bo Catlett looks over as disembarking PASSENGERS start coming through the gate. \par
As a LATINO MAN gets off the plane and glances around. He looks uncomfortable in the loose-fitting suit, like a migrant dressed for Saturday night. \par
The Latino Man lays his TICKET ENVELOPE on top of the trash container near the gateway . . . \par
INSERT -- TICKET ENVELOPE \par
The name Y. PORTILLO printed on the outside. The big man with the little girl picks up the ticket and walks away. \par
As the LATINO MAN heads straight for Bo Catlett. \par
BO CATLETT: Don't say nothing to me. Sit down and act like you're waiting for somebody supposed to meet you. \par
LATINO MAN: The fock you taking about . . . \par
Hitting the word hard, like Tony Montana in Scarface. \par
LATINO MAN: They nobody know me here, man. Give me the focking money. \par
BO CATLETT: Sit down. Now be looking. Man over to your right in the blue wool shirt hanging out . . . the other way, derecho . . . \par
Bo Catlett hunches over to rest his arms on his thighs, so that the Latino Man is now between him and the dude in the wool shirt. \par
BO CATLETT: That's a federal officer, most likely DEA. He moves his leg look for the bulge. You savvy bulge? That's his backup piece . . . Hey. Try it without looking right at him if you can. \par
The Latino Man, trying to be cool about it, checks out the dude in the wool shirt. Sure enough, there's a bulge down near the guy's ankle. \par
BO CATLETT: What's your name? \par
LATINO MAN: (nervous now) Yayo. Portillo. \par
BO CATLETT: Alright, Yayo, you know he's there, now forget about him. Now I'm gonna get up. Soon as I'm gone, you sit down in this same seat I'm in. You feel something under your ass it's the key to a locker where your half a million is. Along with some product we're returning \par
Nervous now, Yayo is staring at the guy with the wool shirt. \par
YAYO: You suppose to give me the focking money yourself. \par
Bo Catlett gets up, adjusts his suit jacket, smoothing the long roll lapel. \par
BO CATLETT: Try to be cool Yahoo. I told you where it is. Do it how I told you and have a safe trip home. Or as you all say, vaya con Dios, motherfucker. \par
Bo Catlett walks off, leaving Yayo sitting there, confused now, not quite sure what to do. \par
CLOSE ON HAND HOLDING TICKET ENVELOPE \par
The name Y. PORTILLO written on the jacket. \par
PULL BACK TO REVEAL: BAGGAGE CLAIM -- DAY \par
Where the Big Man in the Hawaiian shirt waits by the carousel. His LITTLE GIRL HOLDS THE TICKET ENVELOPE. The man grabs a case from the carousel and walks to the door. He tears the baggage claim stub from the envelope and hands it to the SECURITY GUARD. \par
EXT. BAGGAGE CLAIM -- DAY \par
As the Big Man and the little girl walk to the black stretch parked at the curb, RONNIE WINGATE, an aging surfer in a suede jacket and running shoes, holds the door open for them. \par
RONNIE: Like fucking clockwork, eh Bear? \par
BEAR/BIG MAN: Don't cuss in front of Farrah. \par
The Bear hands the case to Bo Catlett who sits in the back of the limo . . . \par
GIRL: Hi, Bo. \par
BO CATLETT: How you doing, sweetie? \par
As Ronnie gets in back with Bo Catlett, The Bear puts his daughter in a toddler seat up front, then gets behind the wheel. \par
GIRL: Here we go! \par
EXT. HARRY'S OFFICE -- DAY \par
Two stories, part of a block of white store fronts on Sunset near La Cienega. \par
INT. HARRY'S OFFICE -- DAY \par
Light filters through venetian blinds, illuminating a desk stacked with folders, magazines, scripts, papers, unopened mail, hotel ashtrays, a brass lamp, a clock and two telephones. \par
HARRY: I once asked this literary agent what type of writing brought the most money and the agent says, 'Ransom notes.' \par
Chili stands looking over some of the old photographs as Harry goes through the mess on the desk. There are some of Karen, Harry with a much youger, blonde Karen. Harry with giant bugs, Harry shaking hands with mutants and maniacs, and so on. \par
HARRY: Here it is . . . Mr. Lovejoy. \par
Harry hands a script to Chili. Chili examines the cover, the first time he's ever held a movie script. He opens it to the middle . . . \par
CHILI: Lovejoy sits behind the wheel, watching the bar across the street, getting his video camera ready for action . . . (looks up) What's he doing? Following a guy? \par
HARRY: Read it. It's a grabber. \par
Chili looks out the window as we see a long black stretch limo pull up to the curb down on the street . . . \par
CHILI: Hey, Harry? I think your investors are here. \par
EXT. HARRY'S OFFICE -- SAME TIME \par
As the Bear opens the door for Bo Catlett and Ronnie . . . \par
INT. HARRY'S OFFICE -- SAME TIME \par
As Harry moves away from the window. \par
HARRY: Jesus . . . \par
Chili tosses the script on the desk, moves between a pair of fat red leather chairs. \par
CHILI: All right, Harry, make sure the limo guys sit here, not over on the sofa. \par
Harry is tugging the string to lower the blinds behind the desk. \par
CHILI: No leave 'em up, we want the light in their eyes. I'll be at the desk . . . but don't introduce me, let it go, just start talking. You're gonna be here, behind 'em when they sit down. \par
HARRY: They'll be looking at you. They don't know who you are. \par
CHILI: That's right, they're wondering, who's this guy? You don't tell 'em. Understand, Harry? Do not tell 'em who I am. \par
Harry glances off as we hear RONNIE SINGING down the hall. \par
RONNIE: (O.S.) In the year 2525 . . . if man is still alive . . . \par
HARRY: So what do I say to them? \par
CHILI: You don't say any more'n you have to. You say, 'Well, I'm glad you assholes stopped by, so I can set you straight.' \par
HARRY: You're kidding, right? \par
RONNIE: (O.S.) If woman can survive . . . \par
CHILI: You tell 'em the movie's been postponed. Say, till next year, if you want. But don't tell 'em why or what you're doing. Understand, Harry? You don't tell 'em anything about Mr. Lovejoy. \par
And the door opens. Chili sits behind the desk, watching the two of them come into the office. Ronnie singing . . . \par
RONNIE: They may find . . . \par
He looks about the office . . . at the old photographs . . . \par
RONNIE: Harry, what year is it, man? We enter a time warp? I feel like I'm back in Hollywood of yesteryear. \par
Harry waves them right into the two cracked red leather chairs facing the desk. Chili watches as Catlett comes first. Sitting down, he nods to Chili who ignores him. \par
HARRY: Have a seat . . . right over here . . . \par
Ronnie sits down in the chair and hooks one leg over the arm, swings it up and down, his motor running on some chemical. He too stares at Chili. \par
HARRY: This is my associate, Chili Palmer, who'll be working with me. \par
Harry already forgetting his instructions. Chili can't believe it. The limo guys nod to Chili and Chili nods back, trying to catch Harry's eye. \par
HARRY: I want to make sure there's no misunderstanding here. Despite rumors you might have heard, your investment in Freaks is as sound as the day you signed your participation agreement. \par
Ronnie has his face raised to the ceiling. \par
RONNIE: I can hear you, but where the fuck are you, man? \par
BO CATLETT: (looking at Chili) What I been wondering is where's he been. \par
RONNIE: Yeah, where've you been? We haven't heard from you lately. \par
Harry comes around to stand at one side of the desk, his back to the window . . . \par
HARRY: I've been off scouting locations. Interviewing actors in New York. \par
Chili's gaze moves from Ronnie the fool to Bo Catlett the dude, the man composed, elbows on the chair arms, his hands steepled in front of him. \par
HARRY: The main thing I want to tell you, the start date for Freaks is being pushed back a little, a few months. \par
Ronnie stops bouncing his leg. \par
RONNIE: A few months? \par
HARRY: Maybe longer. We need prep time. \par
RONNIE: Hey, Harry? Bullshit. We have an agreement with you, man. \par
HARRY: We're gonna make the picture. I've just got another project to do first, that's all. One I promised this guy years ago. \par
Chili shakes his head, he can't believe he's hearing this. Ronnie sits up straight. \par
RONNIE: I want to see your books, Harry. Show me where it is, a two with five zeroes after it in black and white, man. I want to see your books and your bank statements. \par
CHILI: Hey, Ronnie? Look at me. \par
Boom. Ronnie looks over. So does Bo Catlett for that matter. \par
CHILI: You have a piece of a movie, that's all. You don't have a piece of Harry. He told you we're doing another movie first. And that's the way it's gonna be. \par
RONNIE: Excuse me. But who the fuck are you? \par
CHILI: I'm the one telling you how it is. That's not too hard to figure out, is it? \par
Ronnie turns to Bo Catlett, the man not having moved or changed his expression the last few minutes. \par
RONNIE: Cat? \par
Bo Catlett takes his time, gives it some thought. He looks at Harry . . . \par
BO CATLETT: What's this movie you're doing first? \par
CHILI: Harry, let me answer that. \par
Catlett looks at Chili again. \par
CHILI: But first I want to know who I'm talking to. Am I talking to you, or am I talking to him? \par
BO CATLETT: (beat, smiles) You can talk to me. \par
CHILI: That's what I thought. So let me put it this way \par
Now it's between them. The guy studies Chili, thinks about whether or not to make a move, when Harry steps in, reaches over the desk and picks up a script . . . \par
HARRY: This is the project, Mr. Lovejoy. I'm not trying to pull anything on you guys. This is it, right here. \par
Chili looks at Harry, wonders if there's a way to shut him up without punching him in the mouth. \par
RONNIE: Mr. Loveboy? What is it, Harry, a porno flick? \par
He reaches for the script. Harry backs away, holds the script to his chest. Bo Catlett notices this. \par
HARRY: It's nothing. It's fluff. Nothing you'd be interested in. \par
Bo Catlett eyes him a beat, then pushes out of his chair . . . \par
BO CATLETT: Harry, you think we go to see your movies? I've seen better film on teeth. Makes no difference to me which one our money's in. So how 'bout you take our twenty points out of Freaks and put 'em in this other one, Mr. Loverboy. \par
HARRY: I can't do it. \par
BO CATLETT: You positive about that? \par
HARRY: It's a different kind of deal. \par
Bo Catlett nods, gets up. \par
BO CATLETT: Okay. Then be good enough to hand us our money back, or you think about us coming in on this new one. \par
RONNIE: By Friday, man, or you're fuckin' dead as disco. \par
Ronnie opens his coat so that Harry can see a gun tucked in his belt . . . \par
RONNIE: You hear me? \par
Bo Catlett gives Ronnie a look. \par
BO CATLETT: Take your time, Harry. (closes Ronnie's jacket) We're not animals. Are we, Ronnie? \par
Bo Catlett glances once more at Chili then follows Ronnie out the door. Harry stares at the door a moment, senses Chili staring at him . . . \par
HARRY: What? \par
CHILI: I don't know, maybe I wasn't clear. But I thought . . . I told you to keep your mouth shut. \par
HARRY: I had to tell 'em something. \par
CHILI: Never say anything unless you have to. \par
Chili shakes his head as Harry sits down in one of the chairs, fumbles for his cigarettes. \par
CHILI: You tell me you want these guys off your back. Next thing I know, you're saying yeah, maybe they can have a piece of Mr. Lovejoy. I couldn't believe my fuckin' ears. \par
HARRY: I said I'd think about it. What does that mean? In this town, nothing. \par
CHILI: That's the difference between you and me, Harry. I say what I mean. I want something from someone, I ask 'em straight out. I want Martin Weir, I go get Martin Weir. I don't fuck around with his trainer's shrink. \par
HARRY: His shrink's trainer. \par
Chili looks at Harry. \par
CHILI: Take me back to my car. \par
EXT. LAX -- DAY \par
As a plane touches down on the runway . . . \par
INT. SOVEREIGN TERMINAL -- SAME TIME \par
Yayo, now soaked with sweat, is still here. He stands watching a row of lockers. He stares at one of them . . . \par
CLOSE ON LOCKER. \par
The number C-18. We PUSH IN . . . \par
YAYO \par
starts to move for it . . . then looks off at . . . \par
A MAN IN A SUIT \par
as we quickly TILT DOWN to the guy's ankle, looks like a bulge there. We then . . . \par
WHIP PAN TO \par
A WOMAN, dressed casually in slacks and a blouse. We TILT DOWN to her ankle, hmmm, is that a bulge? We . . . \par
WHIP PAN TO \par
A TENNIS SHOE, tapping to some unheard rhythm and what looks like a bulge near the ankle. We TILT UP this time to reveal A LITTLE KID, listening to a walkman. \par
YAYO \par
obviously losing it now, rubs his eyes and quickly walks off to a row of payphones . . . \par
EXT. KAREN FLORES' HOUSE -- DAY \par
Chili's minivan is parked outfront. \par
TOMMY: (V.O.) Where you been? I been callin' all over for you . . . \par
INT KAREN'S HOUSE -- THE STUDY -- SAME TIME \par
Chili sits at the desk on the phone. \par
TOMMY: (PHONE) Ray Bones is looking for you. He's got some kinda bug up his ass, can't sit still. \par
INT. BARBER SHOP -- DAY \par
Tommy on the phone. \par
TOMMY: I hate to say I told you, but I did. I told you don't start nothing with him that time. \par
INTERCUTTING TOMMY & CHILI: \par
CHILI: You said don't say nothing and I didn't. \par
TOMMY: No, you just broke his fuckin' nose instead. \par
CHILI: You gonna start that again? You're just like him, all you got room for in your brain is one fuckin' thing. \par
TOMMY: All I know is he came by the barber shop, all fuckin' undone, wanting to know where you were staying in Vegas. I told him I don't know. I still don't. \par
CHILI: How'd he know I was in Vegas? You tell him? \par
TOMMY: He already knew it. \par
CHILI: Yeah, well, I'm in L.A. now. \par
TOMMY: Whatta you doing out there? \par
CHILI: I'm going into the movie business. \par
TOMMY: What're you talking about? You wanna be a movie star? \par
CHILI: I'm thinking about producing. \par
TOMMY: How you gonna do that? You don't know shit about making movies. \par
CHILI: I don't think the producer has to do much, outside of maybe knowing a writer. \par
TOMMY: Hey, Chil? I think you're fulla shit. \par
INT. KAREN'S ENTRY WAY -- SAME TIME \par
As Karen, dressed as a B-movie queen, press kit under one arm, steps inside, freezes as she hears . . . \par
CHILI: (O.S.) . . . call me soon as you know when Ray's coming out. \par
INT. STUDY -- SAME TIME \par
Chili is scribbling something on a piece of paper as Karen comes into the room. Chili looks up at her as he hangs up, smiles at her. \par
CHILI: Hey . . . Karen. How ya' doin'? \par
KAREN: What're you doing here? \par
CHILI: I wanted to come by, apologize for coming into your house like I did last night. \par
KAREN: Lemme get this straight, you broke in again to apologize for breaking in before? \par
CHILI: No, no . . . you let the patio door open. You gotta stop doin' that, all the nice things you got around here. \par
KAREN: Yeah, well make sure you lock it on the way out. \par
CHILI: Rough day on the set? \par
KAREN: I spent all day crawling out of a grave. The costumer kept bitching 'cause I was ripping my nylons -- \par
CHILI: Ripped nylons work. Makes the shot more real. \par
KAREN: (regarding him) . . . That's what we finally decided. \par
CHILI: Like in Bride of the Mutant, when you played the whole end with that torn top. \par
She looks at him. \par
KAREN: You saw that one? \par
CHILI: Yeah. When you turn to the camera to tell the alien mother that her time on earth is finished . . . when you give us all that look, Joan Crawford wishes on her best day she had that much presence. Not even in Mildred Pierce -- which by the way was a better book than a movie -- did Crawford even touch the intensity you had in that look. \par
KAREN: (beat) Yeah . . . that was a good scene. I mean, for a horror movie. \par
CHILI: For any movie. \par
KAREN: I know I'm better than what I've been doing the last ten years, walking around in a tank top and fuck-me pumps, waiting till it's time to scream. \par
CHILI: Man, can you scream. \par
KAREN: Yeah. It's a real gift. (beat) I'm just saying it'd be nice, one time in my career to get the chance to say one great line. You know, like in that Bette Davis picture, Cabin in the . . . \par
CHILI: Cotton. \par
KAREN: Yeah, you know when Bette comes up to the guy on the porch, gives him a flirty look and says, 'I'd kiss you, but . . .' \par
CHILI/KAREN: 'I just washed my hair.' \par
KAREN: Yeah. \par
CHILI: That is a great line. \par
Chili looks at her. \par
CHILI: How come you stopped making movies with Harry? \par
KAREN: I married Martin. That was a full-time job. \par
CHILI: You read Harry's new one? He says it's the best thing he's ever read. \par
KAREN: He must mean after Slime Creature 3. \par
CHILI: That why Harry came over last night? See if you could help him get Martin in his movie? \par
KAREN: Harry's dreaming of a forty-million-dollar production he'll never get off the ground with a star he'll never sign. With or without my help. \par
CHILI: Harry told me Martin loves it, he flipped. \par
KAREN: Yeah, well Martin is known for his flipping. He flips over a script, and when the time comes to make a deal, he flips out. \par
CHILI: Tell you what, I'll stop by Harry's office and pick up a copy for you. \par
KAREN: Don't go out of your way. \par
They consider each other a moment . . . until Chili finally checks his watch. \par
CHILI: Well, I gotta have a talk with Leo, my runaway dry cleaner. \par
KAREN: Right. See how your story ends. \par
CHILI: Yeah. Right. (then) Listen, Touch of Evil's phying near my hotel. You wanna go check it out? Watch Charlton Heston play a Mexican? \par
Karen looks caught, doesn't answer right away. \par
CHILI: Maybe some other time. \par
He turns to go, then turns back to her . . . \par
CHILI: 'He tried to make love to me and I shot him.' (then) Another great Bette Davis line. \par
Karen looks at him. Surprised. He smiles at her. \par
CHILI: See you around. \par
EXT. BEVERLY HILLS HOTEL -- NIGHT \par
Leo Devoe, dressed in a sporty plaid ensemble, complete with little matching hat gets out of a cab, and walks to the front entrance. He tips the doorman, gives him a grin. \par
DOORMAN: Evening, sir. \par
LEO: And a good evening to you, too, sir. \par
INT. HOTEL HALLWAY -- NIGHT \par
As Leo the high-rolling dry cleaner bounces down the hall, unlocks his door . . . \par
INT. LEO'S HOTEL ROOM -- NIGHT \par
Dark. Leo enters, heads for the bottle of Chivas on the desk. Has one straight out of the bottle, ahhh, before pulling a fat wad of cash out of his jacket, tossing it on the desk like it's change from the cab fare. \par
He then takes off the jacket, unbuttons the shirt, reaches for the Chivas again, when we hear . . . \par
CHILI: (O. S.) Look at me, Leo. \par
Crash. Something glass hits the floor. Probably the Chivas bottle as Leo nearly has a fucking coronary . . . \par
Leo looks over as Chili turns on the light behind him. But what catches Leo's eye is the BRIEFCASE sitting on the couch beside Chili. \par
CHILI: I wouldn't think you're that dumb, leave over three hundred grand in the closet, underneath the extra blanket, but I guess you are. \par
LEO: I didn't know where else to keep it. (then) Where would you? \par
CHILI: You're here a while, what's wrong with a bank? \par
LEO: They report it to the IRS. \par
CHILI: You don't open an account, Leo, you put it in a safe deposit box. Dip in whenever you want. \par
Leo nods in his sporty hat and undershirt, thinking it over, what to do the next time he scams an airline. \par
CHILI: You've been losing. \par
LEO: I'm up twelve grand today. \par
CHILI: From when? You left Vegas with four-fifty? \par
LEO: Who told you that? \par
CHILI: Now you're down to three-ten in the case. You must've cooled off quite a bit since you got here. \par
LEO: How'd you know I was here? \par
CHILI: Here's another tip \par
Leo looks away, raises his preshaped plaid hat and recocks it, then. . . \par
LEO: It was Fay, wasn't it, told you about the money. She tell you my whole life history, for Christ's sake? \par
CHILI: I wouldn't let her if she tried. Why I'm here, Leo, basically, is to save your ass. \par
LEO: How? By taking my money? \par
CHILI: You can keep what you won today. That's yours. \par
LEO: It's all mine. \par
CHILI: Sit down, Leo. \par
Leo sits down in the arm chair, stares sadly at the briefcase. \par
CHILI: I don't know how you got this far, you're so fuckin' dumb. But now you're through. I'm gonna explain to you why and I hope you're not too dumb to understand what I'm saying. Okay? \par
Leo nods. \par
CHILI: Ray Bones is now the man you're dealing with. Ray Bones finds out what you did, he's gonna want everything you have. And when I say everything, I mean even that sporty little hat if he wants it. Then after he takes all you got, he'll most likely hit you with some kind of heavy object if he doesn't shoot you, just so you won't tell on him. \par
Chili lets that sink in a minute. \par
CHILI: I won't do that. Take your stuff or hurt you. You have three-ten in the case, right? I'm gonna take the three hundred you scammed off the airline, but the rest of it, the ten grand? I'm gonna borrow that and pay you back sometime. \par
Leo's squinting at him now . . . \par
LEO: You take all my money, but you're borrowing part of it? \par
CHILI: At eighteen percent, okay? And don't ask me no more fuckin' questions. I'm leaving. \par
He picks up the briefrase as he rises from the sofa and Leo gets out of his chair. \par
LEO: But you won't know where I am. I don't even know where I'll be. \par
CHILI: I'll find you, Leo . . . \par
Chili reaches for the door, opens it and looks back at Leo . . . \par
CHILI: You leave a trail like a fuckin' caterpillar. \par
INT. HALLWAY -- SAME TIME \par
As Chili starts for the elevator. Leo steps into his doorway . . . \par
LEO: Wait a minute. What's this eighteen-percent-a-year shit? You want to borrow ten, the vig's three bills a week. Fifteen for the vig plus the ten, that's twenty-five big ones you go a whole year, buddy! You hear me? \par
Chili stops, turns around. As he starts back, he sees Leo's scared look just before he slams the door shut. Chili shakes his head, starts back for the elevator. \par
EXT. GRIFFITH PARK -- NIGHT \par
Chili drives a dark road up into the park. He rounds a corner, and we see an explosion of light up ahead as we come upon . . . \par
A MOVIE SET \par
Chili pulls in behind a row of trailers. He gets out of the car and heads for the set where Harry is now looking up at the sky and yelling at someone . . . \par
HARRY: How's anyone gonna see anything from way up there? \par
CHILI: Hey, Harry. \par
HARRY: Yeah, Chili. Hi. (looking up) You're fifty feet in the air! \par
The DIRECTOR -- early twenties, dressed like a frat boy -- sits on a crane about fifty feet above the set . . . \par
DIRECTOR: Harry. I'm gonna boom down real fast, get a subjective p-o-v. \par
CHILI: Listen, I talked to Karen. She's gonna think about helping you out. \par
HARRY: Yeah, but whose point of view? \par
DIRECTOR: Whatta you mean, whose point of view; The audience's point of view. \par
HARRY: Get down here. I wanna talk to you. Come on . . . right now . . . (to Chili) She's gonna talk to Martin? \par
CHILI: She's thinking about it. I just need the key to your office. I just told her I'd pick up a script. \par
Harry tosses Chili a key-ring. \par
HARRY: It's the red one. Take it off the ring. \par
Chili sits down in one of the director's chairs that sits off to one side. He starts to take the key off the ring . . . \par
VOICE: Your name Vicky Vespa? \par
Chili looks up at a bored-looking ACTRESS standing there in a blood-soaked nightie. \par
CHILI: Excuse me? \par
ACTRESS: I asked you, is your name Vicky Vespa? \par
CHILI: No. \par
ACTRESS: Then get the fuck outta my chair. \par
Chili sits forward, sees her name printed on the back. He gets up. As she sits down, we see an ICE PICK sticking out the other side of her head. Chili sits back down next to her in the chair with HARRY ZIMM on the back. \par
HARRY: (to the director) What're you doing? I thought I told you to get down here? \par
The kid nods to the camera operator who lowers the crane as we BOOM WAY UP. . . \par
HARRY: All these camera moves and weird angles and shit are gonna distance us from the emotion of the scene. \par
DIRECTOR: What 'emotion?' Girl just got stabbed in the ear with an ice pick. \par
HARRY: She's scared! Fear is an emotion! (then) Look, kid, if you remember anything from your time working with Harry Zimm, let it be the three key words to filmmaking. \par
The kid fiddles with the crane controls. \par
DIRECTOR: Yeah? What three words, Harry? \par
HARRY: Pick 'n' Save. \par
DIRECTOR: Hm? \par
HARRY: You heard me, Pick 'n' Save. \par
Harry turns so the rest of the crew can hear him . . . \par
HARRY: Now I'm gonna tell you a little story, happened to me years ago when I was so broke I had to go to the Pick 'n' Save over on Vine to buy a lousy candybar for my dinner. \par
Chili watches the crew stop what they're doing and listen. \par
HARRY: I'm standing in line waiting to pay my two bits when I overhear this lady, call her Mildred, talking to the cashier about a movie. \par
The Director gives a look to his assistant like 'Jesus, you believe this shit?' \par
HARRY: So Mildred says to the cashier, 'I saw the new Streisand picture.' (gets into it the way Mildred did) 'God, I just love it at the end when she brushed Robert Redford's hair off his forehead the way she did when they were together, and the way they gave each other this look that said they still loved each other, but knew they couldn't be together. That look was so . . . romantic.' \par
DIRECTOR: That's great, Harry. So what's the -- \par
HARRY: What she did not say was, 'I just loved the way the director moved the camera so much it made me fuckin' seasick.' All she cared about was that look. All she remembered was that look. And why do we remember things in movies? Because we can see them. \par
Harry's right in the guy's face now . . . \par
HARRY: So . . . keep this fuckin' camera down here on the ground and shoot this scene, so we can see what the fuck is goin' on, before I get someone over sixteen to fuckin' shoot it for you! \par
Harry walks over to Chili, sees Chili sitting there. Chili tosses Harry his key ring. \par
CHILI: Here's your keys, Harry. \par
HARRY: Get the fuck outta my chair. \par
EXT. HARRY ZIMM'S OFFICE -- NIGHT \par
As Chili pulls out front, gets out of the minivan, he looks up, sees a light on in Harry's office. \par
INT. CORRIDOR -- NIGHT \par
Chili walks down the hallway, dark except for a light on at the end of the hall . . . \par
INT. HARRY'S OFFICE -- NIGHT \par
Bo Catlett, reading glasses, script open in front of him, looks up from Harry's desk as Chili steps into the office. \par
BO CATLETT: This ain't bad, you know it? This Mr. Lovejoy. Needs a better ending but yeah, I can see why Harry wants to do it. \par
Chili says nothing, sits down in one of the red leather chairs. \par
BO CATLETT: You understand I knew Harry was lying, saying this wasn't any good, but holding on to it, man, like you have to break his fingers to get it from him. \par
CHILI: That's funny, I was just wondering what I was gonna break of yours to get it away from you. \par
Bo Catlett smiles at him, doesn't give up the script. \par
BO CATLETT: I'm just explaining to you what I'm doing here. Case you think I come to rob the place, rip off any of this dusty old shit the man has. \par
CHILI: I'd never make you as a burglar, not in that outfit. \par
Bo Catlett sits back in the chair a moment, watches Chili light a cigarette . . . \par
BO CATLETT: Harry called you his associate, but what does that mean? I never heard your name or read it in Variety or The Reporter or anyplace. \par
CHILI: It's what he said, I'm his associate. \par
BO CATLETT: You must bring something heavy to the deal. \par
CHILI: That's right, me. \par
Bo Catlett picks up a piece of paper off the desk . . . \par
BO CATLETT: Says here you're getting Martin Weir for the part of Lovejoy. \par
CHILI: Yeah, we're getting Martin. \par
BO CATLETT: No shit, come on. How you gonna do that? \par
CHILI: I put a gun right here . . . (touches the side of his head) . . . and I tell him, 'Sign the paper Marty or your fuckin' dead.' Like that. \par
BO CATLETT: I wonder, would that work? (then) You know who I see for Al Roxy? Harvey Keitel. The man could do it in his sleep. \par
CHILI: Harvey Keitel. Yeah. Maybe. He was pretty good in the movie Fingers. \par
BO CATLETT: I missed that one. Or, hey, you know who else? Morgan Freeman. You know Morgan? \par
CHILI: Yeah, Morgan Freeman. But he's a colored guy. \par
BO CATLETT: So what? Where's it say in this script he's white? Color is what the part needs, man, somebody to do it has some style. The way it is now, Ronnie could do it, play himself, some cracked out asshole. (then) So whatta you think of the script? \par
Bo watches as Chili picks up a copy of the script, begins flipping through it. \par
CHILI: Title's the first thing's got to go. And the guy's name. I mean, even this writer's name, Murray Saffrin is better than Lovejoy. \par
BO CATLETT: I'm with you on that. And don't you think it needs a good female part? Increase the romance angle. \par
Chili flips through the script, sees a name . . . \par
CHILI: There's Ilona. \par
BO CATLETT: What about her? \par
CHILI: Get something going there. \par
BO CATLETT: With Ilona? You know how old Ilona is? \par
CHILI: She's . . . young. \par
BO CATLETT: Young? She's fuckin' nine-years-old, same age as Lovejoy's kid. Bernie. One she calls Bernard. Have you read the script? \par
CHILI: Yeah, I read it. I was just thinking you could make her older. We might even be able to get Karen Flores. \par
BO CATLETT: Who? \par
CHILI: She's been out of movies a few years, but she's good. Real good. \par
Bo Catlett studies Chili a moment, smiles . . . \par
BO CATLETT: You know what I'm thinkin'? (leans forward) You wanna make the girl older. I don't like the ending. We could do that, you and me, sit down and write the script over where it needs it. \par
Chili fips through the script a moment . . . \par
CHILI: You know how to write one of these? \par
BO CATLETT: There's nothin' to know. You have an idea, you write down what you wanna say. Then you get somebody to add in the commas and shit where they belong, if you aren't positive yourself. Maybe fix up the spelling where you have some tricky words . . . although I've seen scripts where I know words weren't spelled right and there was hardly any commas in it at all. So I don't think it's too important. Anyway, you come to the last page you write in 'Fade out' and that's the end, you're done. \par
CHILI: That's all there is to it, huh? \par
BO CATLETT: That's all. \par
Chili sits forward, stabs out his cigarette, exhales into Bo Catlett's face . . . \par
CHILI: Then what do I need you for? \par
Bo Catlett starts for the door. \par
BO CATLETT: I really think I can be of service on this one. \par
CHILI: Yeah, well, we need a ride somewhere, we'll let you know. \par
EXT. NUART THEATER -- NIGHT \par
As Karen walks up to the box office. A Touch of Evil on the marquis. \par
INT. MOVIE THEATER -- NIGHT \par
Not so full. Chili sits in the middle, watching the final scene as Orson Welles gets blown away, falls into the oily river. He can't take his eyes off the screen . . . \par
Karen comes in, starts up the aisle, looking for Chili. She spots him, just as he mouths the dialogue along with Marlene Dietrich . . . \par
MARLENE DIETRICH: (O.S.) He was some kind of man. \par
Karen smiles, decides to wait a moment. Chili, lost in the movie . . . keeps mouthing the dialogue. \par
MARLENE DIETRICH: (O.S.) What does it matter what you say about people? \par
MORT MILLS: (O.S.) Good-bye, Tanya. \par
MARLENE DIETRICH: Adios. \par
As Tanya/Marlene Dietrich resumes her slow walk away, Karen sits down at the end of the row. People start getting up to leave. Chili turns to a GUY a few seats away from him . . . \par
CHILI: Wow, huh? \par
The guy gives Chili a look, puts his arm around his DATE, and quickly starts up the aisle so that Chili can now see Karen sitting there at the end of the row . . . \par
CHILI: You been here the whole time? \par
KAREN: I just caught the end. \par
She gets up, they start up the aisle together . . . \par
CHILI: You know, Welles didn't even wanna do that one. Some studio made him do it. He owed 'em one and all his own movies lost money. (walking out now) But, hey, sometimes that's when you do your best work, you got a gun to your head . . . \par
EXT. NUART -- NIGHT \par
As Karen and Chili exit the theater, stand there a moment. \par
CHILI: I got you a copy of the script. \par
KAREN: I already read it. Harry left a copy at the house. \par
CHILI: What do you think? \par
She starts walking. \par
KAREN: I think it's not horrible. \par
CHILI: I don't like the title. Or the main guy's name. \par
KAREN: Then you've read it? \par
CHILI: Not yet. \par
KAREN: You and Harry'll make a great team. (then) I'm gonna make a deal with him. \par
CHILI: There a part in it for you? \par
KAREN: I don't want to act in it, I want to produce it with Harry. Especially if I help him get Martin. \par
CHILI: Sounds fair. \par
KAREN: What do you get out of it? \par
He stops, looks at her. \par
CHILI: That why you came over here, to ask me that? \par
KAREN: I want to know. \par
CHILI: Why does anyone want to be in movies? \par
KAREN: Yesterday, you were a loan shark. \par
He starts walking again . . . \par
CHILI: I was never much into it. All that bullshit having to do with respect. It's bad enough having to treat those guys like they're your heroes, having to smile when they make some stupid remark they think's real funny. \par
KAREN: And you think the movie business is any different? \par
CHILI: Yeah well . . . I like movies. I figure if I help Harry make one, I'll find out what you have to do outside of have an idea and raise the money. That doesn't sound too hard. I was in the money business and I get ideas all the time. \par
They stop at her car. \par
KAREN: I'm talking to Martin tomorrow morning. I told Harry I'd meet you and him at Abiquiu afterward. (opens her door) This might work, you never know. \par
He stands there, watching her drive away. \par
EXT. HARRY'S APARTMENT BUILDING -- NIGHT \par
Just above Franklin in the Hollywood Hills. A realtor might call it Chandleresque. We call it old and cheap. \par
INT. HARRY'S APARTMENT -- NIGHT \par
Continuing on the old and cheap theme. Harry stands behind the wet bar pouring himself a strong one. He looks at himself in the smoke-tinted mirror squares, downs the drink in one and pours himself another. \par
A KNOCK AT THE DOOR. \par
Harry looks at the door. \par
HARRY: Who is it? \par
WOMAN'S VOICE: Me. \par
HARRY: (lower) Fuck. \par
WOMAN'S VOICE: I heard that. \par
Harry moves to the door and opens it to reveal DORIS SAFFRIN -- fiftyish, fur coat, hair up so that we can see the nifty necklare. She leans in the doorway . . . \par
HARRY: Hello, Doris. \par
DORIS: Harry Zimm. You look like a wet kiss. \par
And she plants one on him. Walks into the apartment. Looking good for her age. Hell, for any age. \par
DORIS: Well, aren't you gonna offer me whatever it is you taste like? \par
HARRY: Come on in. \par
Doris goes to the window. Harry goes to the bar, pours them each a drink . . . \par
DORIS: What a spectacular view. \par
HARRY: Yeah, lovely. Last night I watched two guys carjack a Camero down on the corner of Argyle there. (hands her the drink) What do you want, Doris? \par
She drinks, never taking her eyes off him. \par
DORIS: I miss Murray, Harry. \par
HARRY: Yeah, me too. He was a helluva good writer. And I would know. I discovered him. Made him what he was. \par
DORIS: What he was, was a hack, couldn't get a job writing for anybody but you. (off Harry) I'm being honest. He was a lousy writer, but he was a good husband. I just didn't know it until too late. \par
Harry finishes his drink, pours himself another . . . \par
HARRY: Yeah, well, twenty-twenty hindsight and all that. \par
Harry takes a big, noisy pull off his drink as she moves to the bar . . . \par
DORIS: I hate being alone. The house is so quiet. So lonely. It needs . . . (studies him) A man's touch. \par
And with that, she opens up the fur coat to reveal that she's wearing nothing but a garter belt and high heels. \par
HARRY: Nice garter. \par
She sets her drink down, moves in, wraps her arms around his neck . . . \par
HARRY: I'm not sure how I feel about this, Doris. \par
DORIS: (reaching down) You seem to feel fine about it. \par
HARRY: I mean morally. Murray was my friend. \par
DORIS: Murray's dead. \par
She kisses him . . . Harry pulls back . . . \par
HARRY: So this means you've reconsidered our deal on Mr. Lovejoy? \par
DORIS: No. But now that you mention it, I did talk to a handsome executive at Paramount the other day . . . who just happened to get his hands on the script. \par
HARRY: Yeah, what'd he have to say? \par
DORIS: He said if Martin's interested, I could get a half a million for it easy. But don't worry, Harry, I'm still giving you until Friday. \par
HARRY: How honorable of you. \par
Now she backs away, gives him a hurt look. \par
DORIS: Harry. If you want me to go, just say the word. \par
Harry looks at her a moment, decides . . . \par
HARRY: What the hell . . . \par
. . . And pulls her as close as we then . . . \par
DISSOLVE TO: \par
EXT. HOLLYWOOD HILLS HOME -- NIGHT \par
We hear laughter, rock and roll as a NUDE WOMAN dives into a blue-lit swimming pool and swims the length . . . \par
We then TILT UP to a HOUSE ON STILTS above this one and see the lone figure of Bo Catlett standing on his deck. \par
EXT. BO CATLETT'S HOUSE -- NIGHT \par
The shimmering yellow grid of the city in the b.g., Bo Catlett, barefoot, bathrobe, leans on the rail of his deck, watching the folks frolic twelve stories down. \par
YAYO: (V.O.) Listen to me, man, I don't wan' no focking key. I wan' the money. \par
EXT. BO CATLETT'S DECK -- NIGHT \par
Bo Catlett looks inside where Yayo paces back and forth. The Bear reclines on a chaise lounge. \par
BO CATLETT: Hey, Yayo? You gonna smoke, get the hell off my seventy-bucks-a-yard carpet. \par
Yayo steps out on to the deck . . . \par
BO CATLETT: I told you where the money is. All you gotta do is go get it. \par
YAYO: No. I'll tell you something \par
BO CATLETT: That's all you know, huh? Wait here a minute, Yayo, I be back directly. \par
Yayo leans against the railing, cuts a 'now that's the way you get things done' look at the Bear. He lights a cigarette, looks o.s. and freezes . . . \par
YAYO: The fock you doing with that? \par
Bo Catlett holds a big .45 out in front of him . . . \par
BO CATLETT: I'm taking you out, Yahoo. \par
. . . and shoots Yayo in the chest, the gun going off loud, the round knocking the little Latin man back against the railing. \par
BO CATLETT: Dead focking center, man. \par
Yayo, a stupid look on his face, stumbles backwards, over the railing. The Bear reaches for him, but it's too late . . . \par
EXT. HOUSE DOWN BELOW -- SAME TIME \par
The group down here is too stoned to notice the little Colombian who falls from the deck high above like a sack of dirt, then slides partway down the slope. \par
EXT. BO CATLETT'S DECK -- SAME TIME \par
The bear looks over at Bo Catlett . . . who now calmly stares down at the motionless form of Yayo. \par
BO CATLETT: Shit, now someone's gotta climb down there and get him. \par
BEAR: You didn't have to shoot him, Bo. We coulda just beat him up some. \par
BO CATLETT: You see that? The way the man just went right over? \par
Bo Catlett takes a sip of his drink, looks at the railing. \par
BO CATLETT: Maybe we can get Chili Palmer up here. You fix my railing to give way like they do in the movies. Then I invite the man out here, have a look at my view. Get him to lean over the railing, see all the naked people down there . . . a tragic accident, officer . . . \par
Bear looks at him. \par
BEAR: Cat, that's the lamest idea I've ever heard. \par
BO CATLETT: Yeah, well, I'm bored, Bear. I wanna make movies. \par
Bear looks at him. \par
BO CATLETT: I mean, what's the point of living in L.A. if you're not in the movie business? \par
Bo Catlett leans on the railing, looks down at Yayo again. \par
BO CATLETT: And I mean high up in it. (turns to Bear) That's why Harry's gonna make Mr. Lovejoy with me, not Chili Palmer. \par
BEAR: Mr. Lovejoy? That's cute, Bo. \par
BO CATLETT: Doesn't matter what it's called, Harry's got Martin Weir and it's gonna be big. \par
BEAR: They all sound big at the talking stage. \par
EXT. MARTIN WEIR'S HOUSE -- MORNING \par
Karen pulls into the driveway in a convertible BMW. As she checks her make-up in the REARVIEW MIRROR, we see Chili pull up behind her in his rented minivan. She turns aronnd, frowns, and quickly gets out of her car. \par
He gets out of the van . . . holds up a Star Map . . . \par
CHILI: This thing's actually accurate. I bought it for ten bucks from a kid in a lawn chair on Sunset . . . \par
KAREN: You were supposed to wait for me with Harry at the restaurant. \par
Chili points to a star on the map . . . \par
CHILI: See, here it is . . . Martin Weir's house . . . right across the steet from George Hamilton. \par
VOICE: Chili, Jesus! \par
They both look to the front door where a tall, skinny WOMAN with wild, jet black hair stands. \par
WOMAN: It is you . . . \par
She comes bounding down the steps, runs over and gives him a hug . . . Karen can't believe what she sees. \par
CHILI: Nicole? \par
WOMAN: It's Nicki now. I don't believe this. \par
CHILI: Me neither. (to Karen) We know each other. \par
Karen smiles: 'How 'bout that.' Then looks at Nicki. \par
KAREN: Hello, Nicki. \par
NICKI: Karen. Shit. I didn't see you there. How are you? \par
Karen starts to answer, but Nicki's already hustling Chili inside . . . \par
INT. MARTIN WEIR'S HOUSE -- DAY \par
White everything. Way off in the b.g., a view on to the huge backyard. A pool man cleans the pool. A gardener blows the leaves. \par
Martin's extensive photography collection lines the walls. Chili steps inside, checks some of them out: most of the photographs are of Martin. \par
NICKI: Martin will be out in a minute. (to Karen) Chili was the only one at Momo's didn't hit on me. \par
KAREN: What a gentleman. \par
NICKI: You like my hair? (reaches up, touches it) Black like this? \par
CHILI: It's nice. Especially under your arms. \par
Somehow this makes Karen feel better. \par
NICKI: Martin won't let me shave. I guess I fill some need. Brings him back to the sixties or something. \par
Karen turns as we hear a TOILET FLUSH somewhere o.s. \par
NICKI: (looks o.s.) Speak of the devil . . . \par
Chili follows her gaze and we see . . . \par
MARTIN \par
as he comes down the stairs, checking the front of his trousers. He and Karen spot each other. Both look uncomfortable for a fraction of a second, then Martin hurries over to her . . . \par
MARTIN: Karen. Wow. Look at you . . . \par
KAREN: Hello, Martin. \par
He hugs her and hangs on, leaving Nicki and Chili standing there like idiots. \par
MARTIN: Mmmmm. You smell terrific. (to Nicki) She always smelled so good. \par
NICKI: (thrilled) Neat. (then) Martin, this is Chili Palmer. \par
MARTIN: Chili is it? \par
CHILI: Yesh, a pleasure, Martin. \par
NICKI: Chili's a gangster. Ran a club I used to play at for another gangster back in Miami. How is Momo these days anyway? \par
CHILI: Dead. \par
Karen fights a smile. Nicki nods solemnly . . . \par
NICKI: Bummer. (then) Well, I'll let you all get to your movie talk. Chili, make sure you say good-bye before you leave. \par
CUT TO: A PORTRAIT OF MARTIN WEIR \par
Done in cracked oils, the whole bit. \par
PULL BACK TO REVEAL: MARTIN'S LIVING ROOM \par
Martin, Karen and Chili all sit on white couches. Martin is checking out Karen, nodding . . . \par
MARTIN: I'm sitting here, I'm looking at you and I'm having these flashes. You know, flashbacks, of memories. (touches her hair) Of us. \par
KAREN: Really. \par
MARTIN: Yeah and I'm wondering, how did it go wrong? How did it all . . . slip away? \par
KAREN: 'It' didn't slip away, Martin, you did . . . when you went off to fuck Nicki in the middle of my birthday party. \par
Martin brings his hand back, nods, lost in thought . . . \par
MARTIN: Yeah. That was a good party. \par
CHILI: You know, Marty, you were good in The Cyclone. \par
MARTIN: Martin. It was a beautiful role. All I had to do was find the character's center, the stem I'd used to wind him up and he'd play, man, he'd play. \par
Karen looks like she wants to throw up. \par
CHILI: Well, you had it down cold. Watching you in the movie, if I didn't know better I'd have to believe you were a made guy and not acting. Even the fink part. I never met a fink and I hope to God I never do, but how you did it must be the way finks act. \par
MARTIN: A few weeks before shooting, I went back to Bensonhurst, just to listen to you guys. See, I'm Italian, but I grew up in Tarzana. So I wanted to pick up your rhythms of speech. \par
CHILI: We talk different? \par
MARTIN: It's more like your attitude. Your tone, your speech patterns demonstrate a certain confidence in yourselves, in your opinions, your indifference to conventional views. \par
CHILI: You mean like we don't give a shit. \par
MARTIN: Yeah. Kinda. Anyway, once I have the authentic sounds of speech, the rhythms, man, the patois, I can actually begin to think the way those guys do, get inside their heads. \par
Chili exchanges a look with Karen who sits back now. Ready to give up. \par
CHILI: Okay, I'm one of those guys you mentioned. I'm actually one of 'em. What am I thinking? \par
Martin looks at Chili . . . \par
MARTIN: Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying an actual metamorphosis takes place. That wouldn't be acting. \par
Karen looks at Martin, shakes her head. \par
CHILI: So you don't know what I'm thinking. \par
MARTIN: No, I don't. Though I have to say I'm curious. \par
CHILI: So you want to know. \par
MARTIN: If you'd like to tell me, yeah. \par
CHILI: I'm thinking of a movie. \par
MARTIN: One of mine? \par
CHILI: One we're producing. \par
MARTIN: With what? Wiseguy money? \par
Martin cracks himself up. Karen and Chili crack up with him, Karen leaning into Chili . . . \par
KAREN: Maybe this was a bad idea. \par
But Chili keeps looking at Martin. \par
CHILI: Martin, I'm not connected to those people anymore. Not since I walked out of a loan-shark Operation in Miami. \par
MARTIN: What happened? The pressure got to you? \par
CHILI: Pressure? I'm the one applied the pressure. \par
Chili sits back. Karen is starting to enjoy Chili's handling of Martin . . . \par
CHILI: You're an actor, you like to pretend. Imagine you're the shylock. A guy owes you fifteen grand and he skips, leaves town. What do you do? \par
Chili watches as the movie star hunches over, narrows his shoulders. For a few moments he holds his hands together in front of him, getting a shifty look in his eyes. Karen shakes her head . . . \par
KAREN: Oh, for Christ's sake -- \par
MARTIN: I know. I'm doing Shylock instead of a shylock. Okay, what's my motivation? The acquisition of money. To collect. Inflict pain if I have to. \par
Karen watches as Martin stares at Chili, his expression gradually becoming deadpan, sleepy . . . \par
MARTIN: Guy owes me fifteen large and takes off, I go after him. The fuck you think I do? \par
CHILI: Martin, look at me. \par
MARTIN: I'm looking at you. \par
So is Karen, for that matter. \par
CHILI: No, I want you to look at me the way I'm looking at you. Put it in your eyes, 'You're mine, asshole,' without saying it. \par
MARTIN: Like this? \par
CHILI: What you're telling me, you're tired? You wanna go to bed? \par
MARTIN: Wait. How about this? \par
CHILI: Now you're squinting like you need glasses. \par
Karen looks away now, fighting a smile. \par
CHILI: Look at me. I'm thinking, You're mine. I fuckin' own you. What I'm not doing is feeling anything about it one way or the other. You understand? You're not a person to me, you're a name in my collection book, a guy owes me money, that's all. \par
Martin nods, gives Chili a nice dead-eyed look. Karen is thoroughly enjoying Chili's manipulation of Martin. \par
MARTIN: How about this? \par
CHILI: That's not bad. \par
MARTIN: That's what I think of you, asshole. Nothing. \par
CHILI: I believe it. \par
MARTIN: I turn it on when I confront the guy. \par
CHILI: Yeah, but you haven't found him yet. (then) The guy took off for Las Vegas. \par
MARTIN: How do I know that? \par
Karen looks at Chili as he sits back . . . \par
CHILI: The guy's wife tells you . . . \par
INT. ABIQUIU RESTAURANT -- DAY \par
Two floors, the upstairs with a railing overlooking the bar. Harry, a drink in front of him, sits in a big corner booth upstairs. He checks his watch . . . \par
VOICE: Harry, how you doing? \par
Harry looks up to see Bo Catlett, dressed up as usual, standing there with the Bear, wearing a Hawaiian shirt. \par
HARRY: Bo. I'm great. Listen, I'm expecting some people -- \par
BO CATLETT: You must be makin' some big deals, doin' lunch in a place like this? \par
HARRY: I'm working on a few things. \par
BO CATLETT: Yeah, I hear you bagged Martin Weir for Mr. Lovejoy. \par
HARRY: Boy, this town. Word gets around, doesn't it? \par
Harry chuckles, takes a sip of his drink. \par
BO CATLETT: Chili Palmer told me. \par
Harry's smile goes away. \par
BO CATLETT: Last night. When he called me over to your office to talk about it. \par
HARRY: Chili Palmer showed you my script? \par
BO CATLETT: Yeah, I was wondering why he should do that. \par
INT. MARTIN WEIR'S HOUSE -- SAME TIME \par
Martin is leaning forward . . . Hooked . . . \par
MARTIN: The wife sues the airline. (nods) This is a gutsy babe. \par
CHILI: Good-looking, too. (turns to look at her) Like Karen. \par
Chili smiles at her. Martin leans forward. \par
MARTIN: So when do I meet up with the husband and give him the look? \par
CHILI: It's not that simple. You have to be careful. There's another guy that comes along, a hard-on you owe some money to. A mob guy. Wants to take you out anyway, on account of a past situation. \par
MARTIN: Okay. I'm listening. \par
Chili stops; he doesn't know what else to say. Martin waits, then looks at him a moment . . . \par
CHILI: At that point, basically, that has to be it. \par
MARTIN: You're not going to tell me the rest? \par
KAREN: Well actually, Martin the movie we came to talk about is Mr. Lovejoy. \par
CHILI: Yeah. We understand you read the script and like it . . . a lot. \par
MARTIN: Refresh my memory . . . \par
CONTINUED: INT. ABIQUIU -- SAME TIME \par
Harry drains his drink. Bo Catlett exchanges a look with the Bear, then . . . \par
BO CATLETT: Listen, Harry, how would you like to get your hands on five hundred grand? You pay me back at your convenience, no interest. \par
HARRY: You serious? \par
BO CATLETT: All I want in return is to work on the movie with you. Fact I already got some ideas on how to fix it up. \par
Bo Catlett signals the waiter . . . \par
BO CATLETT: How 'bout another one for Mr. Zimm. A double. \par
HARRY: You're gonna just give me five hundred grand? \par
BO CATLETT: We'll talk about that, Harry. But first I gotta know, how'd you hook up with Chili Palmer. \par
EXT. MARTIN WEIR'S HOUSE -- DAY \par
Karen, Martin, and Chili walk out to the driveway. \par
MARTIN: Lemme talk to Buddy, set up a meeting. \par
CHILI: Buddy? \par
KAREN: Lufkin. His . . . agent. \par
MARTIN: Yeah, Karen knows him. \par
KAREN: But you are interested? \par
MARTIN: I'm intrigued, yeah. You know what might help you, take a look at the Cylone again, the way a visual fabric is maintained even while the metaphor plays on different levels. Hey -- (nods to minivan) This your ride, Chili? \par
Chili follows Martin over to the minivan, opens the door for him. \par
MARTIN: Very nice . . . \par
CHILI: Yeah, I like it, I'm high up, I can see everything, you know? It's the Cadillac of minivans. \par
MARTIN: What's that? \par
CHILI: Compass. \par
MARTIN: Wow. (then) Mind if I take it for a spin? \par
INT. ABIQUIU RESTAURANT -- DAY \par
Bo Catlett and Harry are laughing as Harry, very drunk now finishes another drink . . . \par
BO CATLETT: He was watching Letterman, huh? Sneaky, that Chili Palmer. (signals the waiter, then) So, he ever find this dry cleaner, the one with all that money on him? \par
HARRY: Leo, I don't know. \par
Bo Catlett and the Bear look at each other. \par
BO CATLETT: I bet he did and he ain't givin' you a penny of it, help you out. Not the way I am. \par
Harry looks at Bo, can't believe what's happening to his life, thinks a moment, then . . . \par
HARRY: Assuming I go along with this, when can I have the five hundred? \par
BO CATLETT: Whenever you want it. The money's in hundred dollar bills inside one of those jock bags, you know? In a locker at the airport, waiting to be picked up. \par
HARRY: The airport. \par
BO CATLETT: It was waiting out there on another deal, one that didn't go through; one you don't want to know about. \par
Harry shakes his head, looks around the restaurant. Bo and the Bear exchange looks, then . . . \par
HARRY: I don't know. \par
BO CATLETT: It's not the kind of thing you do. \par
Another glance at the Bear, then . . . \par
BO CATLETT: That's why I was thinking you could send your boy Chili Palmer. He gets busted or hit on the head you aren't out nothing. \par
And with that, Bo Catlett calmly slides an ORANGE KEY across the table to Harry. Harry stares at it. It has the number C-18 printed on the flat orange part. \par
HARRY: C-18. \par
BO CATLETT: That's the magic number. \par
BEAR: Cat . . . \par
And they all look . . . \par
DOWNSTAIRS \par
as Chili and Karen enter the restaurant. Chili checks out the bar, sees they aren't there, then looks up at the railing . . . keeps his eyes up there as he says . . . \par
CHILI: Wait here. \par
Chili moves to the staircase, now sees the Bear in his Hawaiian shirt standing a few steps from the top. \par
Chili gets within three steps of the guy and stops, but doesn't look up, keeps his eyes fixed on the man's gut. \par
BO CATLETT: I'd like you to meet my associate, the Bear. Movie stuntman and champion weightlifter, as you might've noticed. Picks up and throws out things I don't want. \par
Chili doesn't move, keeps his eyes on the man's crotch. \par
BEAR: We think you ought to turn around and go back to Miami. \par
Chili slowly moves his gaze up through hibiscus until he's looking at the man's bearded face . . . \par
CHILI: So you're a stuntman. Are you any good? \par
The Bear grins and turns his head to the side, as if too modest to answer and will let Bo Catlett speak for him. \par
This makes the next move easier . . . the guy not even looking as Chili grabs a handful of his crotch, steps aside and yanks him off the fucking stairs. \par
The Bear yells out of pain and fear as the beefy guy rolls all the way down the stairs to land on the main floor, a few feet away from where Karen now stands. \par
Chili keeps watching until he sees the guy move, then looks up at Bo Catlett who's now coming down . . . \par
CHILI: Not bad for a guy his size. \par
Chili continues up the stairs to where Bo Catlett stands beside the table. Chili unbuttons his coat . . . \par
CHILI: I'll make you a deal. If you can get out of here before I take my coat off, I won't clean the floor with you, get your little costume all messed up. \par
Karen watches now as Bo Catlett puts a hand in his coat packet, steps right up to Chili . . . \par
BO CATLETT: You don't know me. You only think you do. \par
Bo walks past Chili, goes down the stairs. Chili watches as Bo Catlett helps the Bear get to his feet. They leave the restaurant, the Bear looking over his shoulder at Chili. \par
Even Karen is looking at him differently now as they slide into the booth with a now shocked, rapidly sobering Harry. \par
CHILI: Rough business this movie business. I may have to go back to loan sharking for a rest. \par
Harry doesn't say anything. Karen looks at him. \par
KAREN: Harry, what're you still doing with those guys? \par
HARRY: He happens to be loaning me five hundred grand, no strings, I write any kind of agreement I want. \par
CHILI: Is he giving you a check or cash? \par
HARRY: Cash. It happens to be waiting right at this moment in a locker at the airport. \par
KAREN: A locker at the airport? Jesus Christ, Harry. Tell me you're not really that stupid. \par
CHILI: The guy's setting you up. You pulled out of their Freaks deal so he's paying you back. \par
HARRY: Oh, is that right? I'm being set up? Then how come Catlett said I should send you out to get it, since you haven't done a fucking thing for me since you got into this . . . except showing Bo Catlett my script? \par
Chili looks at Karen, smiles, shakes his head . . . \par
CHILI: Okay, Harry, I'm wrong. You're not the one he's setting up. \par
HARRY: I mean, at least Bo's invested in three of my movies. \par
KAREN: Harry, we spoke with Martin. \par
HARRY: 'We?' \par
KAREN: Chili and me. \par
Harry looks at the two of them, differently now . . . \par
HARRY: Really. \par
CHILI: Yeah, he wants us to talk to Buddy, set up a meeting. \par
HARRY: A meeting with who? You and Karen? \par
KAREN: Harry -- \par
HARRY: Man's in town two days, thinks he's David O. fucking Selznick. \par
Karen and Chili look at each other as Harry finishes his drink. \par
HARRY: So how 'bout it, Mr. Selznick, do I make my deal with Bo? Or you gonna finally help me out, have a word with your dry cleaner when you find him. \par
CHILI: I found him. \par
Harry looks at him. \par
CHILI: Forget about Leo's money, Harry. \par
HARRY: You have it? \par
CHILI: Harry, if I gave you Leo's money you'd have Ray Bones all over your ass and then you'd be in a whole new kinda trouble. \par
HARRY: Who? \par
CHILI: Ray Barboni. Guy from Miami, owns Leo now that Momo died. \par
HARRY: Who the fuck is Momo? Jesus, these fucking names . . . \par
CHILI: Tell you what, Harry, tomorrow morning, when the airport's crowded, I'll go check it out. If I don't see a problem, I'll pick up the money . . . \par
KAREN: I wouldn't get my hopes up, Harry. \par
Harry thinks a moment, lays the key on the table, but keeps his hand on it. \par
HARRY: Maybe I oughta talk to this Ray Bones character myself. See if he wants to invest in my movie. \par
CHILI: Don't waste your time, Harry. The guy's not much of a movie fan. Now c'mon, gimme the key. \par
Harry finally lifts his hand. \par
EXT. HARRY'S OFFICE -- NIGHT \par
A light on upstairs . . . \par
HARRY: (V.O.) Bones. B-O-N-E-S. \par
INT. HARRY'S OFFICE -- SAME TIME \par
Harry sits at his desk, the phone cradled to his ear, a half-empty bottle of scotch in front of him. \par
OPERATOR: (PHONE) I show a 'Dem Bones Barbecue' in Dade County, but that's all. \par
HARRY: Oh. Wait a minute. That's not his real name. It's uh . . . uh . . . yeah -- try Barboni. B-a-r-b-o-n-i. \par
INT. RAY BONES' APARTMENT -- NIGHT \par
We start CLOSE ON A TELEPHONE . . . THE PHONE RINGS and we BOOM UP to reveal a CLOSED DOOR across the room . . . \par
INT. BATHROOM -- SAME TIME \par
Ray Bones nests on the can, humming off key, reading Weir'D Tales, Martin Weir's autobiography. He looks up, listens to the PHONE RING. \par
BONES: Fuck. \par
The phone KEEPS RINGING. Bones thinks about it a moment, then tosses the book aside . . . \par
BONES: Fuck fuck fuck fuck . . . \par
INT. FRONT ROOM -- SAME TIME \par
As Bones bursts out of the john and grabs the phone. \par
BONES: What? \par
INTERCUTTING HARRY & RAY BONES \par
Phone to his ear, Harry downs another drink, sits up. \par
HARRY: Ray Barboni? \par
BONES: Who is this? \par
HARRY: Are you the guy they called Ray Bones? \par
BONES: Depends. Who's this? \par
HARRY: Who is this? I'm the one telling you the way it is, okay, asshole? That's who I am. Now you want your three hundred grand or don't you? \par
BONES: What three hundred grand? \par
HARRY: The three hundred grand a guy named Leo Devoe scammed off an airline. The three hundred grand Chili Palmer now has in his possession. \par
Okay. This gets Bones' attention. \par
HARRY: Hello? You there? \par
BONES: Yeah, I'm here. I just don't like the anonymous crap. It means your either chickenshit or not for real. \par
HARRY: Yeah? Well, trust me. I'm very for real. \par
BONES: Okay. So who are you? \par
HARRY: I work for Harry Zimm, alright? \par
BONES: Who? \par
HARRY: Harry Zimm. The man happens to be a major Hollywood player. \par
BONES: Never heard of him. \par
HARRY: Maybe that's because you've never been out've fuckin' Miami, dipshit. Maybe it's time you got on a plane, flew out to L.A. and took a meeting with Mr. Zimm. \par
Bones sits down, trying to put this together . . . \par
BONES: So, what, this Zimm guy asking for some kinda finders fee, that what we're talking about here? \par
HARRY: Hey, Zimm doesn't ask for dick. Zimm tells you the way it is . . . or else. \par
BONES: Or else what? \par
HARRY: Or else use your fucking imagination. \par
Harry hangs up at the other end. Bones stares at the phone. \par
CONTINUED: INT. HARRY'S OFFICE -- SAME TIME \par
He sits there a moment, also staring at the phone. \par
HARRY: Motherfucker. \par
He then realizes his hands are shaking, grabs the bottle and pours the rest of the scotch down his throat. \par
EXT. LAX -- SOVEREIGN TERMINAL -- MORNING \par
Busy. Travelers moving along the sidewalk. Here comes Chili . . . he enters the terminal and we . . . \par
INT. SOVEREIGN TERMINAL -- DAY \par
CUT TO: A ROW OF LOCKERS \par
All with keys sticking out of them except one. We push in on that one . . . C-18. \par
CHILI \par
stands between rows of lockers on either side of him. He studies them a moment longer, then looks up at the ARRIVALS MONITOR. He starts writing something on a CARD as we push past him . . . pushing in on #83 from NEWARK . . . \par
INT. AIRPORT GIFT SHOP -- DAY \par
As Chili buys an L.A. LAKERS T-SHIRT and a BLACK CANVAS ATHLETIC BAG. He pauses to check out the magazine rack, Martin Weir is on the cover of everything including his hardback autobiography "WEIR'D TALES". He grabs a copy . . . \par
Chili puts the book and the T-shirt inside the athletic bag, puts that inside the papergift shop bag, and then looks around . . . \par
A SCRUFFY LOOKING KID \par
Eighteen or so, checking out the skin magazines as Chili comes up behind him. \par
CHILI: You want to make five bucks, take you two minutes? \par
The kid looks at him, but doesn't answer. \par
CHILI: You go over to those lockers over there and put this in C-17. \par
The kid still doesn't say anything. \par
CHILI: It's a surprise for my wife. But you have to do it quick, okay? While she's in the can. \par
That sonuds like it makes sense, so the kid nods . . . \par
KID: Yeah, okay. \par
Chili gives him the paper bag with his purchases, a five dollar bill and three quarters. He watches as . . . \par
The kid walks over to the row of lockers . . . puts the quarters into C-17, opens it, puts the stuff inside, pulls the key and then walks back over to Chili, and hands him the key . . . \par
CHILI: Thanks. \par
EXT. AIRPORT -- DAY \par
As a plane touches down . . . \par
INT. SOVEREIGN TERMINAL -- DAY \par
As Chili watches the last few passengers come off the plane. He watches them come through the gate until he's standing there by himself. \par
Okay, he turns and walks down the aisle now to the bank of lockers three high where C-18 is just about in the middle. \par
He looks both ways, takes his time until a group of people pass behind, giving him a screen, giving him just time enough to open C-17, grab the black athletic bag, and close the locker. \par
Chili gets about ten yards down the aisle, heading for daylight, when a BLACK GUY IN A SUIT comes towards him and stops right in his path . . . \par
BLACK GUY/CURTIS: Excuse me, sir . . . \par
Now there's a BIG GUY IN A PLAID WOOL SHIRT next to him, the same guy we saw when Bo Catlett was here. And Christ, ANOTHER GUY now, this one down the aisle, talking on his hand radio. The Black Guy has his I.D. folder open . . . \par
BLACK GUY/CURTIS: Curtis. Drug Enforcement. These are Agents Dunbar and Morgan, would you come with us, please? \par
CHILI: What's wrong? What's this about? \par
Agent Curtis turns and starts off: \par
DUNBAR: Let's follow him and behave ourselves. What do you say? \par
As Chili walks off with the D.E.A. guys we see . . . \par
RAY BONES \par
Coming out one of the gates. He looks at A GUY holding a square piece of cardboard that reads MR. BARBONE. \par
GUY: Mr. Barbone? Welcome to L.A. I'm Bobby, your driver. You have a good flight? \par
RAY BONES: (starts walking) I hope you drive better than you fucking spell, jackoff. My name's Barboni, not Bar-bone. \par
As Ray Bones then walks off, we see coming out a different gate . . . \par
THREE COLOMBIANS \par
All in dark suits. Two big guys in sunglasses flanking one smaller, older guy . . . \par
BIG GUY: You want to go to the hotel first, Mr. Escobar? \par
MR. ESCOBAR: I want to get my focking money. \par
INT. SMALL AIRPORT OFFICE -- DAY \par
Chili stands there while Curtis opens Chili's wallet and looks at the driver's license while Dunbar in the plaid shirt pulls the Lakers T-shirt out of the athletic bag, feels around inside. The agents glance at each other without giving any kind of sign. \par
CURTIS: You live in Miami? \par
CHILI: That's right. \par
CURTIS: What're you doing in Los Angeles? \par
CHILI: I'm in the movie business. \par
CURTIS: You're an investor, is that it? \par
CHILI: I'm a producer. \par
CURTIS: You have a card in here? \par
CHILI: Not yet. I just started. \par
Chili watches Curtis pick up the note with the Newark Flight number and arrival time written on it. \par
CHILI: I'd appreciate your telling me what this is about. \par
MORGAN: I got a John Doe warrant here. I can strip-search you if I want. \par
CURTIS: Pat him down. \par
MORGAN: Why don't I strip-search him. \par
CURTIS: Pat him down. \par
The big guy puts Chili against the wall. \par
MORGAN: Spread your legs. \par
CURTIS: What're you doing at the airport? \par
CHILI: I was supposed to meet my wife, but she wasn't on the flight. \par
DUNBAR: Why, you live in Miami, was your wife coming from Newark? \par
CHILI: We had a fight and she left me, went back to Brooklyn. I asked her to come out here, you know, thinking with a change of scenery maybe we could get back together, and she said okay, but evidently she changed her mind. \par
CURTIS: Your wife a Lakers fan? \par
CHILI: I am. I'm a fan of everything that's L.A. I love it out here. \par
He looks over his shoulder to the give the guy a smile. Curtis doesn't return it. \par
CURTIS: You can go. \par
Chili moves to the table to collect his things. Curtis watches him then . . . \par
CURTIS: By the way, you recall the number of the locker you used? \par
CHILI: It was C . . . I don't know, sixteen or seventeen, one of those. Why? You looking for anyway, a bomb or something? \par
CURTIS: Something shouldn't be there. \par
CHILI: Why don't you get the attendant to open all the lockers and take a look. Maybe you'll find it. \par
CURTIS: That's the idea. I'll think about it. \par
CHILI: That's what I'd do. (looks right at Curtis) Make sure I got the right guy next time. \par
CURTIS: Get him out've here. \par
EXT. FREEWAY -- DAY \par
The usual L.A. traffic. A black caddy in the middle of it. \par
INT. CADDY -- SAME TIME \par
As Ray Bones looks out a tinted window at the freeway. \par
BOBBY: You ever wanta go to the beach, here's the freeway you take we're coming to. \par
RAY BONES: I live in Miami and you want to show me a fuckin' beach? The sun ever come out here, or you have this smog all the time? \par
BOBBY: They say the smog's the reason we have such beautiful sunsets. \par
RAY BONES: That's what they say, huh? What a buncha fuckin' bullshit. \par
EXT. AIRPORT PARKING STRUCTURE -- DAY \par
Chili glances about, makes sure no one's around, then pulls the key for the 'right' locker out from a crack in the pavement, near the stairwell. He then goes up the stairs to \par
EXT. AIRPORT PARKING STRUCTURE -- DAY \par
ANOTHER LEVEL \par
where the Bear, in his trademark Hamaiian shirt is standing beside Chili's car. He straightens up as Chili exits the stairwell and walks up to him. \par
CHILI: I don't know how I could've missed you with that shirt on. It's the same as the other one you had only the hibiscus are a different color. Right? \par
BEAR: So you didn't have the key with you. \par
CHILI: You think I'd be standing here? You set somebody up and you want it to work, it has to be a surprise. Can you remember that? \par
BEAR: You spotted them, huh? \par
Chili looks at him, the guy's either dumb or making conversation. \par
CHILI: What, did you see it work in some movie you got beat up in? \par
BEAR: I have to ask you for that key. \par
CHILI: What, the setup didn't work so you want the key back? \par
BEAR: Catlett says if you don't open the locker the deal's off. \par
CHILI: You serious? This is how you guys do business? I can't believe you aren't dead. \par
The Bear keeps staring, but doesn't say anything. \par
CHILI: Look, there's no fuckin' way I'm gonna give you the key, outside of you point a gun at my head. Then we might have something to talk about. Now step away from the car. \par
BEAR: I don't need a gun. Where is it? If it isn't on you, it's around here someplace. \par
Chili shakes his head, tired of this, but still feeling a little sorry for the guy. He looks off in a kind of thoughtful way, turns to the Bear again and kicks him in the left knee, hard. \par
The Bear stumbles, hunching over. Chili grabs him by the hair with both hands, pulls his head down and brings his own knee up into the guy's face. This straightens him and now Chili hits him high in the belly as hard as he can, right under the rib cage. \par
The Bear sucks air with his mouth open trying to breathe, helpless now and in pain. Chili takes him by the arm . . . \par
CHILI: Lie down on your back. Come on, if you want to breathe. \par
He gets the Bear down on the concrete, straddles his midsection and reaches down to lift him up by the waist of his pants. \par
CHILI: Take deep breaths through your mouth and let it out slow . . . that's it, like that. \par
The Bear starts to breathe okay again. He checks his teeth now, feeling his nose . . . \par
CHILI: Hey, Bear, look at me. \par
The Bear looks at him. \par
CHILI: Tell your boss I don't ever want to see him again. He made a deal with Harry and a deal's a deal. \par
The Bear nods, dosing and opening his eyes. \par
CHILI: What're you hanging around with a guy like that for? You were in the movies, right? A stuntman? What's he ever done he can talk about? You feel okay? \par
BEAR: Not too bad. \par
CHILI: How 'bout when you went down the stairs? \par
The Bear touches his thigh . . . \par
BEAR: I think I pulled my quadriceps. \par
CHILI: So . . . how many movies you been in? \par
BEAR: About sixty. \par
CHILI: No shit? What're some of 'em? \par
INT. HARRY'S OFFICE -- DAY \par
Harry is passed out with his head on the blotter when we hear someone POUND ON THE DOOR. He jerks upright. \par
VOICE: Harry Zimm? \par
HARRY: What -- who is it . . . ? \par
Harry, his hair a mess from sleeping on it, looks up at the door as it opens to reveal Ray Bones standing there. \par
RAY BONES: The dipshit who's never been out've Miami. \par
Harry wakes up quick, nearly wets himself as Bones then casually steps into the office. \par
HARRY: Mr. Barboni. Well. This is surprise . . . \par
Scrambling now to play it the way Chili taught him, Harry quickly gestures to the red leather chair arross the desk. \par
HARRY: Please. Have a seat. Right here in this chair right here . . . \par
As Ray Bones sits down, Harry moves to the blinds and opens them. Problem is, the sun's setting, so there's no glare at all. Ray indicates the nice red sunset . . . \par
BONES: They say the fuckin' smog's the reason you have such beautiful sunsets. \par
Harry just smiles, sits down at the desk, things already not going too well, about to get worse . . . \par
INT. WINGATE MOTORS OFFICE -- SAME TIME \par
The walls are covered with posters of Porsches and Ferraris, the kind you can buy at the carwash with severely titted chicks sprawled on the hoods. Bo Catlett is behind a big wooden desk on the phone. \par
BO CATLETT: Whatta you mean, he faked them out? \par
EXT. AIRPORT PAYPHONE -- DAY \par
The Bear, sort of half doubled over . . . \par
BEAR: He knew it was a set up. He was ready for it. \par
INTERCUTTING BO CATLETT & THE BEAR: \par
BO CATLETT: So where's the money? \par
BEAR: I guess still in the locker. \par
BO CATLETT: You guess? You mean you don't know? \par
BEAR: I mean I don't care. \par
Bo Catlett looks into the outer office as a car pulls into the garage. Three dark-shaded gentlemen step out of the car. \par
BO CATLETT: Bear, I'm going to call you later. \par
INT. WINGATE MOTORS OFFICE -- DAY \par
Bo Catlett hangs up, gets to his feet as the men all look into the office now. \par
BO CATLETT: Mr. Escobar. What a surprise. Welcome to L.A. \par
We can now see that one of the Latinos is older, the other two, younger, are his bodyguards. Mr. ESCOBAR, the older, meaner one . . . steps into the office . . . \par
ESCOBAR: Where is my nephew? \par
BO CATLETT: Your who? \par
ESCOBAR: Yayo. Where is he? \par
Bo Catlett stiffens . . . Uh oh. \par
INT. GARAGE -- DAY \par
As the two back doors of a limo slum shut. There's half dozen other limos wedged in here. \par
INT. LIMO -- SAME TIME \par
Bo Catlett sits in the back, wedged in between the two bodyguards, neither of whom has removed his shades. He faces Escobar on the opposite seat. \par
ESCOBAR: He's my sister's kid. No papa. Not too bright. Personally, I think he's a retard. I only gave him the job as a favor for my sister, you understand? \par
BO CATLETT: Sure. Family. I know how that goes. \par
ESCOBAR: He comes up here with our product. He suppose to come home with five hundred thousand dollars. He never shows up. Meanwhile, my sister's going crazy calling me all the time worried about him. Me, I just wanna know what happened to my focking money. \par
BO CATLETT: Well, I don't know. I gave the man his money, sent him on his way. \par
ESCOBAR: You gave him the money? \par
BO CATLETT: I gave him a key to a locker that had the money in it. \par
ESCOBAR: Now why would you do that? Put the money in a locker? \par
BO CATLETT: Because there were a zillion DEA guys hanging around the terminal. \par
ESCOBAR: (flat) A zillion, huh? That's a lot. \par
Escobar studies him a moment. Bo Catlett shrugs. \par
BO CATLETT: Maybe your nephew panicked, took off. \par
ESCOBAR: Where's your partner, the jumpy one? Why isn't he here? \par
BO CATLETT: He's around someplace. \par
ESCOBAR: I hear he's around Palm Springs. Dealing our product. Product we sold to you for five hundred thousand dollars. (then) Why do you keep talking to me bullshit? I think maybe I have Ramon and Ceasar staple your tongue to your chin. What do you think? \par
Bo Catlett barely glances at the bodyguards, smiles the gleamy smile to the Latin guy in front of him . . . \par
BO CATLETT: You know, you speak very good English, Mr. Escobar. \par
ESCOBAR: I went to UC San Diego. (then) We're gonna spend the weekend at the Universal Sheraton. We're gonna take the tour. See the shark. Check out the Miami Vice Action Spectacular. After, we'll come here, get our money. \par
One of the bodyguards says 'Your nephew' in Spanish. \par
ESCOBAR: Oh, yeah, and Yayo, too. \par
INT. RONNIE WINGATE'S PORSCHE -- DAY \par
As Ronnie zigzags in and out of traffic, giving people the 'look' as he passes . . . on the carphone. \par
RONNIE: His fucking nephew? \par
INT. WINGATE MOTORS -- SAME TIME \par
Bo Catlett on the phone . . . \par
BO CATLETT: You get to town, you go straight to the bank, raid the limo account. \par
INTERCUTTING RONNIE & BO CATLETT: \par
RONNIE: I'm already in town, but it don't matter. We got dick in the bank. We dumped it all in Harry's movie. \par
BO CATLETT: What I'm sayin' is the man wants his money and he wants it now. \par
INT. HARRY'S OFFICE -- DAY \par
Ray Bones impatiently listening to Harry . . . \par
HARRY: I'm talking about you, Ray Barboni, owning a piece of a major motion picture. How big a piece is up to you. What I'm saying, you could invest part of the three hundred Palmer owes you or you could invest all of it. It's entirely up to you . . . \par
Bones leans forward . . . \par
BONES: Where's Leo Devoe? Where's Chili Palmer? Where's my fuckin' money? \par
HARRY: Ray. Look at me. \par
Uh-oh . . . Ray's heard that one before . . . \par
BONES: What? \par
HARRY: Look at me, Ray. \par
BONES: You say look at you? \par
HARRY: That's correct. Look at me. \par
Bones shakes his head, stands up . . . \par
BONES: I tell you what . . . \par
And in one fast move, Ray Bones grabs the phone off the desk and slams it into Harry Zimm's surprised face . . . \par
BONES: Fuckin look at that, asshole . . . \par
Bones then yanks the phone out of the wall and throws it down at Harry . . . \par
BONES: And have a peek at that . . . \par
Ray Bones pulls a pair of black leather gloves from his pocket and steps around the desk . . . begins kicking the living shit out of Harry Zimm . . . \par
BONES: You know, Harry, this is the exact fucking thing I needed after the fucking plane flight. My ass fell asleep . . . (kick) . . . seven times. I need a little fucking . . . (kick) . . . exercise. \par
Harry tries to push himself to his feet, but Ray Bones stomps on Harry's hands . . . breaking them . . . and Harry falls back down . . . Bones crouches down . . . \par
BONES: You got a big problem, Harry. \par
Bones grabs him by the hair, picks him up and throws him arross the room into the wall of pictures, many of them coming off their hooks and falling on top of Harry. \par
BONES: Hey, Harry . . . Harry. Don't you pass out on me. Look up here . . . \par
Harry, a crumpled heap, looks up and we see his bloody pummeled face as Ray Bones quickly crosses the room. He steps on Harry's neck with his shoe, pinning him to the floor . . . \par
BONES: Where's my money? \par
Harry can't speak; his jaw is broken. He looks sad lying there pinned beneath Ray Bones' shoe, wondering how it all went so wrong. \par
Bones pulls a 9mm from his coat pocket and aims it down at Harry's face . . . \par
BONES: Harry. I'm gonna ask you one more time, then I'm gonna shoot you, you don't tell me what I wanna know . . . \par
Harry just makes a noise. Bones aims the gun at him. \par
BONES: Where's my money? \par
VOICE: Your money? \par
Ray Bones looks over as Ronnie Wingate strolls into the office . . . Harry actually looks glad to see him. \par
RONNIE: Who the fuck are you? \par
BONES: Ray Barboni. From Miami. \par
RONNIE: What, like that's supposed to mean something to me? \par
Ronnie then puts a cigarette in his mouth, eyes Bones. Harry tries to follow what's happening from the floor. \par
RONNIE: The man you're steppin' on belongs to me and my partner. \par
BONES: He owes me money. \par
RONNIE: Get in line, bro. \par
BONES: I don't like waiting. \par
RONNIE: Tough shit, bro. This ain't Miami. You want something, talk to me. \par
BONES: Hey, fuckball, I don't need your permission. L.A.'s an open city. \par
Ronnie opens his jacket so that Ray Bones can see the .357 Ronnie's got tucked into his belt. \par
RONNIE: Yeah, well, I just closed it. \par
Bones looks at the gun, looks up at Ronnie standing there, hands on his hips, holding his jacket open. Bones raises his own gun . . . \par
BONES: You a quick draw . . . 'bro?' You better be, your piece stuck way down in your belt like that. \par
RONNIE: Whatta you got there . . . some kinda pop nine, the fuckin' Fiat of guns, always jammin' at the wrong time. \par
Okay. Bones thinks about that. His confidence a little shaken. They stand there a moment. Harry raises his hand, makes a gurgling noise as . . . \par
Ronnie goes for his gun. \par
Boom. Boom. Boom. Harry closes his eyes as Ray Bones shoots Ronnie over and over, knocking the guy backwards until he hits the door, and slumps to the floor. \par
Ray Bones stares at Ronnie a moment, then comes out of his trance, looks down . . . quickly steps back . . . \par
BONES: Don't you puke on my shoes, Harry. \par
Harry rolls over on to his side. Ray Bones deep in thonght now, picks the telephone up off the floor, sets it back down on the desk, then looks at Ronnie again. \par
BONES: Harry. I need you to do me a favor . . . \par
Harry rolls over and looks up at Ray Bones. \par
BONES: I need you to take this gun and put a pill in the bro over there for me. \par
Harry looks at the dead Ronnie Wingate, slumped up against the door, staring vacantly back at him. \par
BONES: I know what you're thinking, 'Why the fuck would I shoot him? He's already dead.' \par
Ray Bones crouches down beside him. Harry winces as Ray puts the gun in Harry's broken hand. \par
BONES: But see, the cops got these tests, tell them whether or not a person fired a gun. And I was never here. \par
Harry looks pleadingly at Ray Bones. \par
BONES: You understand, Harry? I was never here. You say I was, and I'm gonna come back here throw you out that fuckin' window. \par
Harry looks at the gun, feebly aims it at Bones. Bones frowns, pushes the gun away . . . \par
BONES: C'mon, knock it off, Harry. We don't have a lotta time here . . . \par
Harry looks up at Ronnie, raises the gun . . . \par
EXT. KAREN'S BACKYARD -- DUSK \par
Beer in hand, Chili sits in a chaise longue by the pool. Karen watches him a moment from the doorway . . . \par
KAREN: Not a worry in the world. \par
He looks over . . . \par
CHILI: Your pool needs skimming. \par
She comes over, sits down. \par
KAREN: That was Martin. He wants to have lunch tomorrow. That is, if you can make it. \par
CHILI: Depends, who pays? \par
KAREN: Definitely not Martin. Movie stars never pick up the check. They have no idea what things cost. Most of them don't know their zip code and a lot don't even know their own phone number. \par
Chili looks at Karen a moment. \par
CHILI: How'd you meet Martin anyway? \par
KAREN: Not unlike the way Nicki met him. Except it was a wrap party. Why? \par
CHILI: I don't know, I'm just havin' some trouble seeing you two together. \par
KAREN: You don't like Martin much, do you? \par
CHILI: Oh, I like him. I just think he's . . . short. I mean, he's a good actor and all, but I'm wondering what it was exactly you saw in Marty. \par
KAREN: For starters, Marty wasn't Martin back then. \par
Feeling him staring, she keeps her eyes on the sunset, and tries to change the subject . . . \par
KAREN: So what about your story. You thought of a title yet? \par
CHILI: How 'bout Get Shorty? Except that isn't a movie. That's real life. \par
KAREN: How 'bout Chili's Hollywood Adventure. \par
CHILI: That's a different story. I'm still working on that one, you know, getting the visual fabric just right. (then) Although I've added to it. \par
He looks at her, puts his drink down. \par
KAREN: Yeah? \par
CHILI: Yeah. There's a girl in it now. \par
KAREN: Really. \par
And he leans over and kisses her. \par
INT. KAREN'S BEDROOM -- NIGHT \par
Karen and Chili lie in bed together. She looks at him . . . \par
KAREN: I think you could be an actor. I know you're acting sometimes, but you don't show it. \par
CHILI: You thought I was faking? \par
KAREN: No. I don't mean that. I just meant in general. \par
CHILI: Oh. \par
The're both quiet a moment. Then . . . \par
CHILI: You don't mean a movie star? More like a character actor? \par
KAREN: Whichever. Let's talk about it tomorrow. \par
But Chili can't stop thinking about this now . . . \par
CHILI: I mean I could see myself in movies Robert De Niro had been in. Or I could maybe do an Al Pacino movie, play a hard-on. But I couldn't see myself in ones, like say the one where the three guys get stuck with a baby. They don't know how to take care of it and you see these big grown-up assholes acting cute -- \par
KAREN: Hey, Chili? Look at me. \par
She leans over and kisses him. Is still kissing him when the PHONE RINGS. They ignore it, let things heat up as we hear the ANSWERING MACHINE pick up O.S.... \par
KAREN: (V.O.) I'm not in right now. Leave a message at the beep . . . \par
A BEEP, followed by . . . \par
DORIS: (V.O.) Hi, Karen. It's Doris. Listen, doll, you might wanna come by Cedars tonight and visit Harry. He's in the emergency room . . . \par
Chili and Karen both jerk upright. \par
INT. EMERGENCY ROOM -- SAME TIME \par
As Doris leads Karen and Chili towards the triage area. \par
DORIS: I stopped by his office to see if he wanted to take me to Le Dome for dinner when I saw Harry and this other man lying on the floor. \par
Doris smiles as two UNIFORMED COPS walk past. \par
DORIS: Goodnight, Todd. Night, Louis. \par
Karen and Chili exchange a look as they follow her into . . . \par
THE TRIAGE AREA \par
Where Harry lies in bed in a pain-killer stupor. Both of his eyes are black. His face is swollen and purple. \par
KAREN: Harry . . . My God . . . \par
CHILI: What happened? \par
He raises a bandaged hand and waves feebly . . . \par
DORIS: He can't talk. He's full of Demerol. \par
Harry tries to pull away as she runs a hand through his hair. \par
CHILI: Who'd he shoot? \par
DORIS: According to Todd -- Sergeant Randall -- a man named Ronnie came by Harry's office to collect on a debt. He got rough and Harry shot him. \par
CHILI: You shot one of the limo guys? \par
Harry gives Chili a sad look. We then hear . . . \par
VOICE: Hello, hello . . . \par
They all look over as a RESIDENT walks over trailed by several MED STUDENTS. \par
RESIDENT: (enthusiastic) Okay . . . here we go. Looks like Mr. Zimm here's got a broken jaw and some neck trauma to go with those fractured hands . . . \par
Doris winks at one of the young med students as the resident then turns to her, Karen, Chili. \par
RESIDENT: Excuse me, folks . . . \par
They step back as the Resident pulls the curtain shut, blocking their view of Harry. \par
KAREN: Hey, Harry, listen, Martin wanted to meet us tomorrow at the Ivy for lunch. I'd cancel, but Martin's going to Cannes next week, so I think maybe Chili and I should still go. \par
We hear HARRY GRUNT from behind the curtain, then . . . \par
RESIDENT: (O.S.) Okay, who wants to take a crack at wiring Mr. Zimm's jaw? \par
Chili and Karen look at each other as we then . . . \par
DISSOLVE TO: \par
EXT. BO'S DECK -- MORNING \par
A PHOTOGRAPH OF HARRY ZIMM \par
Standing beside some giant mutant maggot or something. We begin PULLING BACK . . . now we can read a headline above the photograph, 'PRODUCER INVOLVED IN SHOOTING.' \par
BO CATLETT: (V.O.) Motherfucker . . . \par
As Bo Catlett sits on his deck reading the newspaper. From inside, we hear the front door open and a moment later, the Bear steps out on to the deck, with Farrah, his little girl. \par
BO CATLETT: Motherfucker . . . \par
Bo Catlett looks over as Bear CLEARS HIS THROAT, indicates Farrah . . . \par
BO CATLETT: Hey, Bear. I been calling you, man. Where you been? \par
FARRAH: Hi Bo. \par
BO CATLETT: Hey, Farrah. Hah you, little honey bunny. You wipe your feet, for you come in here? Keep Uncle Bo's carpet nice and white. \par
BEAR: You see the paper? \par
BO CATLETT: I seen it, but I don't believe it. Says Harry shot Ronnie five times. Four to the chest and one through his foot. \par
BEAR: His foot. Jeez, poor Ronnie . . . \par
BO CATLETT: Yeah, I'm really gonna miss him. \par
Bo throws the paper aside. \par
BO CATLETT: Listen, tonight, later on, I got one for you doesn't involve any heavy work. I want you to go have a look around Chili Palmer's hotel room. \par
BEAR: I can't. I got to take Farrah to Satan's place down in Costa Mesa. \par
BO CATLETT: Who? \par
BEAR: Her mother. Not that it matters because I don't work for you no more. I quit. I just wanted to come by, tell you to your face so there's no misunderstanding. \par
BO CATLETT: Whoa . . . This is the man used to jump offa high buildings? \par
BEAR: Into air bags. There's no cushion under what you're doing. I'm out of it, Cat. I'm done. \par
BO CATLETT: Bear. The Colombians are in L.A. Seems they all upset about their money. That ain't enough, as a bonus, it turns out the yoyo was Escobar's nephew. \par
BEAR: That's your problem. You shouldn't've smoked the guy. \par
Bo Catlett looks at the Bear, then smiles at Farrah . . . \par
BO CATLETT: Come here, honey bunny, come sit with your Uncle Bo. He hates being alone. \par
Bear watches uncomfortably as Farrah sits down with Bo. Bo looks up at the Bear . . . \par
BO CATLETT: Fact, he hates it so much, if he takes a fall, he ain't gonna fall by himself. \par
Bo Catlett keeps his mouth close to her ear . . . \par
BO CATLETT: He's gonna plea-deal his way out. Give up this ace stunt man now one of the West Coast dope kings, if they go easy on the Cat. \par
BEAR: Come here, Farrah . . . \par
Bo Catlett holds on to her, looks up at the Bear. \par
BO CATLETT: I heard in the Federal joints they let you spend an extra five minutes at the glass with your Daddy on Father's Day. \par
BEAR: Farrah. Come here. \par
Farrah slips off the couch, walks over to the Bear . . . \par
BEAR: After this one, I'm out, Cat, you understand? This is the last time we talk to each other. \par
BO CATLETT: Remember Harry's story about the dry cleaner Palmer was after? Guy who stole the three hundred grand from the airline? \par
BEAR: What about him? \par
BO CATLETT: I was thinking tonight you could go have a look around Palmer's hotel room while I go check out Karen Flores' place. See if he hasn't stashed it somewhere. \par
BEAR: (beat) And if we don't happen to find it under Palmer's mattress or inside Karen Flores' undie drawer? What then? \par
BO CATLETT: Just do what I told you and meet me back here at midnight. \par
And he winks at Farrah. \par
EXT. KAREN'S HOUSE -- DAY \par
Chili's minivan is parked out front. \par
VOICE: (V.O.) Sunset Marquis. \par
INT. KAREN'S HOUSE -- SAME TIME \par
Chili, dressed in his suit, on the phone. \par
CHILI: This is Mr. Palmer. I have any messages. \par
HOTEL OPERATOR: (PHONE) A Tommy Carlo called. He said to tell you that a Mr. Barboni was on his way to Los Angeles and that you should . . . (clears throat) . . . get the fuck out of there. \par
CHILI: When was this? \par
OPERATOR: Two nights ago. \par
Chili hangs up as Karen comes into the room wearing a black suit, no blouse underneath, putting on an earring. \par
CHILI: Wow. Nice earrings. \par
EXT. KAREN'S HOUSE -- DAY \par
As Karen and Chili walk out to the minivan . . . \par
CHILI: What kinda food they serve at this Ivy place anyway? \par
KAREN: Continental, but it doesn't matter. Martin won't order from the menu. \par
He opens the door for her . . . \par
CHILI: Why not? \par
KAREN: Because a movie star can never order straight from the menu. They have to think of something they have to have that isn't on the menu. \par
EXT. THE IVY -- DAY \par
As the valet drives off with Chili's minivan, a CAB pulls up and Harry -- his hands bandaged, his neck in a massive brace -- gets out . . . \par
KAREN: Harry, what're you doing? You're supposed to be in the hospital. \par
CHILI: Yeah, Harry, you look like you belong in one of your horror movies. \par
Harry waves them off points to himself as he mumbles through his wired jaw . . . \par
HARRY: . . . my project . . . \par
He then pushes past them and limps up the steps. The hubub on the patio quiets as the three of them then walk up to the Maitre D'. \par
INT. THE IVY -- DAY \par
MAITRE D': Mr. Zimm. Nice to see you. \par
Harry looks at him, not used to being greeted like this. \par
MAITRE D': Right this way. \par
All eyes are on Harry as they're led to a table. Karen sits down, looks about at all of the gawking diners . . . \par
KAREN: You're a celebrity, Harry. You shoulda shot someone a long time ago. \par
Chili watches Harry try to shake a cigarette out of the pack. Chili reaches over and helps him out. \par
CHILI: Tell me, Harry, what'd you think of Ray Bones as a person? \par
Harry goes stiff, looks at Chili as he lights one for himself . . . \par
CHILI: Only a guy like Bones would mess you up like this, break your hands for no reason. He shoot Ronnie, too? \par
Harry looks at Karen, quickly looks away. \par
CHILI: Thing I don't get, Harry, is why'd you go and do a thing like talking to Ray Bones. You don't need guys like him or Bo Catlett. \par
Harry looks at Chili now. \par
CHILI: I been here a while now and far as I can tell you're the only person in town actually making a movie instead of just talking about it. \par
Before Harry can answer, we hear a murmur and Chili and Karen look across the patio to the street, where . . . \par
EXT. THE IVY -- DAY \par
MARTIN WEIR \par
gets out of a NEW MINIVAN, exactly like Chili's rental. \par
INT. THE IVY -- DAY \par
We PAN WITH Martin as he stops off to say hello to people sticking their hands out at him to greet him, laugh at his stupid jokes . . . \par
MARTIN: Chill. Harry. \par
Chili nods as Martin smiles, leans down and kisses Karen. \par
MARTIN: Hi, sweetface. You look great. And mmmmm, you smell good, too. \par
KAREN: Thanks. \par
Martin sits down and fans the air in front of him. \par
MARTIN: Would you guys mind terribly not smoking? \par
Chili takes another drag, blows it out past Martin. Harry stabs his out, doing the best he can with two broken hands. \par
MARTIN: So. Harry. I hear you had quite an experience. \par
Harry grunts. \par
MARTIN: Well, I'm glad you're okay. And you know what else? \par
Harry watches Karen and Chili a moment longer, turns to Martin . . . \par
MARTIN: I'm glad you rejected me ten years ago when I auditioned for Eddie Solomon, the pedophile clown in Birthday Boy. Had I gotten the part. I might've gotten typecast. \par
Martin smiles at his own joke, looks up as the Maitre D' approaches. Harry turns back to Chili and Karen. \par
MARTIN: You all ready to order? I kind've have another thing after this . . . \par
Chili watches anticipatingly as Martin studies the menu for maybe a second, returns it to the waiter . . . \par
MARTIN: You know, I feel like an omelette. You think I could have a cheese omelette with shallots, but with the shallots only slightly browned . . . \par
Karen and Chili exchange looks, pick up their menus. \par
DISSOLVE TO: \par
INT. THE IVY -- DAY \par
They've finished lunch. Chili shares a bowl of ice cream with Karen. Harry sips cognac through one of those tiny cocktail straws . . . \par
MARTIN: I think the romance angle in your story is critically important, that isn't simply a jump in the sack for either of them. These two become deeply in love. \par
Harry looks up . . . mumbles through his wired jaw . . . \par
HARRY: Which two? \par
MARTIN: (ignoring him) Once their lives are in danger and you have the mob guy coming after them, it not only heightens the tension, it adds a wistful element to their love. \par
HARRY: Mob guy? \par
Harry touches his jaw. It hurts to speak. \par
MARTIN: I have to consider, I mean, as the mob guy, this is another man's wife I'm sleeping with. \par
KAREN: And after all, you have such morals. \par
Harry looks to Karen for help here . . . \par
HARRY: Mob guy? \par
Martin looks at his watch. \par
MARTIN: I have to run. But what I hope to see, they begin to have misgivings about wanting the money. It becomes their moral dilemma and they try to rationalize keeping it, but in the end they can't. Can they? \par
HARRY: What money? \par
MARTIN: (bewildered) The three hundred large. What other money is there? (then) I should keep quiet, I know, till I've read the script, but I've got a feeling about this one. I'm that shylock. \par
HARRY: Shylock? \par
Harry winces in pain. Martin turns to him . . . \par
MARTIN: Look at me, Harry. \par
Harry's already looking at him. \par
MARTIN: Whatta you think, Chill? \par
CHILI: That's not bad. I think you got it down. \par
Harry turns to Chili, and back to Martin again. Just now getting it . . . \par
MARTIN: Really, it scares me how well I know him. I could do this one tomorrow, no further preparation. (to Karen) Bye darlin' . . . you really should think about acting again. I mean, maybe we could even do something together. \par
Now Harry looks at Karen who forces a smile at Martin. \par
KAREN: I'll give it some heavy thought. \par
EXT. KAREN'S HOUSE -- NIGHT. \par
No lights on. Chili's minivan out front. \par
KAREN: (V.O.) Chili. Wake up. \par
INT. KAREN'S BEDROOM -- SAME TIME \par
Karen sits up in bed. Chili lies asleep beside her. She nudges him . . . \par
KAREN: Wake up. Someone's downstairs. \par
Chili sits up on his elbows, listens. We can hear the TV. \par
KAREN: It's Harry. Downstairs. \par
Chili sits up on his elbows, listens. \par
CHILI: You sure? \par
KAREN: He's doing the same thing you did to him, playing Letterman on TV. \par
CHILI: It's not Dave. It's a movie. \par
KAREN: Are you going down? \par
CHILI: I don't know. \par
KAREN: (getting up) You're as bad as Harry . . . \par
CHILI: I'll go. I'll go. \par
He gets up, pulls on his pants and the Lakers T-shirt he bought at the airport. \par
CHILI: Hey, Karen, you have a gun? Any kind would be fine. \par
She shakes her head. He listens to the TV, then . . . \par
CHILI: I think it's Rio Bravo. \par
INT. KAREN'S STUDY -- SAME TIME \par
The big-screen TV on loud, the big .45 in his lap. This time it's a movie, a western, not David Letterman that's on. John Wayne and Dean Martin shooting bad guys as Chili steps into the doorway and looks around; the room is empty now. Chili moves to the television and turns the volume down . . . \par
He 's about to walk out when the dark shape of Bo Catlett steps into the doorway and startles him . . . \par
BO CATLETT: I need the money. \par
CHILI: What money? \par
BO CATLETT: The three hundred grand you got from a little dry cleaner named Leo. \par
CHILI: Lemme see if I got this right, you break into Karen Flores' house, ask me for three hundred grand, doesn't even belong to you? \par
INT. KAREN'S HOUSE -- HALLWAY \par
As Karen comes down the stairs, she can see Bo Catlett standing in the doorway bathed in the flickering light. \par
BO CATLETT: (O.S.) Give it to me, I'll be on my way. \par
INT. KAREN'S STUDY -- SAME TIME \par
As Chili shakes his head at Bo Catlett . . . \par
CHILI: I can't believe the way you guys do business out here. I can't believe how fucked up your organization is. \par
BO CATLETT: Tell you what . . . \par
Bo Catlett raises the .45 . . . \par
BO CATLETT: How 'bout I give you to three, then I organize your fuckin' brains all over the wall back there. One . . . \par
CHILI: What, you gonna shoot me now, Bo? \par
O CATLETT: In just a second. Two . . . \par
CHILI: I don't believe this. \par
BO CATLETT: Three. \par
Bo Catlett is about to fire . . . when we hear a SCREAM. Not just any scream, but a completely professional one that fills the house and is all over Bo Catlett so that he starts firing before he's ready, giving Chili time to dive out of the way as . . . \par
Bo Catlett begins firing all over the room . . . keeps on firing until without thinking he blows out the TV and the room goes dark and the scream stops. Then . . . \par
CHILI: (V.O.) Karen? You okay? \par
BO CATLETT: (V.O.) She can't talk right now. \par
We hear movement, then the lump goes on and we see Chili standing beside the desk looking to the doorway where Bo Catlett now has his hand over Karen's mouth. She struggles, but Bo hangs on to her . . . \par
BO CATLETT: That's a nice scream, lady. You oughta be in movies. \par
CHILI: Alright, Bo. You can have the money . . . but it's not here. I have to go get it. \par
BO CATLETT: Okay. Fine. The meantime, I'll just hang on to her for safe keeping. \par
Chili and Karen are looking at each other now. \par
BO CATLETT: You know Laurel Canyon? \par
CHILI: I'll find it. \par
BO CATLETT: I'm at 8150 Wonderland Avenue. It's right off Laurel. \par
CHILI: (looking at Karen) Gimme an hour. \par
EXT. BO CATLETT'S HOUSE -- NIGHT \par
As Bo Catlett pulls up, drags Karen out of the car. \par
INT. BO CATLETT'S HOUSE -- SAME TIME \par
The Bear gets up off the couch as Bo Catlett shoves Karen inside . . . \par
BO CATLETT: You get the money? \par
BEAR: No. What's this? \par
BO CATLETT: Plan B. Here ya go, honey . . . \par
He shoves Karen into the bathroom and shuts the door . . . \par
BO CATLETT: Make yourself comfortable. \par
INT. BATHROOM -- SAME TIME \par
As Karen shuts the door on him. She listens a moment. \par
BO CATLETT: We gonna make a little trade. \par
She spots a copy of Martin's hardback Weir'D Tales by the toilet. \par
KAREN: For Christ sake . . . \par
INT. LIVING ROOM -- SAME TIME \par
Bo Catlett goes over to the stereo. \par
BEAR: Trade for what? \par
BO CATLETT: The money. Fuck. I gotta think . . . \par
We hear Marvin Gaye OVER . . . \par
BEAR: Jesus, Bo, what're you doing? \par
Karen sticks her head out the door . . . \par
KAREN: He doesn't know what the fuck he's doing. \par
Bo Catlett points the gun at her face . . . \par
BO CATLETT: Shut up. \par
She closes the door. \par
BEAR: So you kidnapped her? \par
Karen opens the door again . . . \par
KAREN: That's a fucking federal offense, asshole! \par
BEAR/BO CATLETT: Shut up! \par
Again she shuts the door. \par
BEAR: You get life for kidnapping. \par
BO CATLETT: Calm down, Bear . . . \par
BEAR: Calm down? We're going away for life and you tell me to calm down? \par
He taps Bo's gun . . . \par
BEAR: (ranting) Hell, why not just shoot her? Why not shoot everybody. Fuckin' shoot me. Shoot the fuckin' president? \par
BO CATLETT: Don't fade on me now, Bear. Not unless you wanna hold Farrah on your lap in a room fulla felons. \par
The two men stare at each as we hear . . . \par
INT. HOUSE -- SAME TIME \par
CHILI: So this's one of those houses you see way up hanging over the cliff. \par
They both look over at Chili, standing in the doorway, lighting a cigarette. \par
CHILI: Where's Karen? \par
BO CATLETT: (nods to the closed door) In the can. That the money? \par
Chili opens Leo's bag so that Bo can see the money. \par
CHILI: Lemme see her. \par
Bo Catlett shrugs, walks over and opens the bathroom door. Karen stands there with her arms folded across her chest. \par
CHILI: You okay? \par
KAREN: Guy's got a fucking pink toilet, for Christ's sake. \par
BO CATLETT: She's great. Gimme the money. \par
CHILI: First you and me gotta get a couple things straight. \par
Chili walks to the doorway leading out to the deck and turns around. He eyes Bo Catlett a moment, then . . . \par
CHILI: I've been shot at before -- once by accident, twice on purpose. I'm still here and I'm gonna be here as long as I want. That means you're gonna have to be somewhere else, not anywhere near me or Harry or Karen. \par
Chili sets the duffle bag down in front of him. \par
CHILI: Here's your money. Take it and leave the movie business to the rest of us, know what we're doing. C'mon Karen . . . \par
They turn to leave, we hear a LOUD CLICK as Bo raises the gun, takes a step towards them . . . \par
BO CATLETT: You broke in my house and I have a witness to it. \par
CHILI: What? \par
Chili looks at the Bear. The Bear won't look at him. \par
BO CATLETT: Only this time, no John Wayne and Dean Martin shooting the bad guys in El Dorado. \par
CHILI: It was Rio Bravo. Robert Mitchum was the drunk in El Dorado, Dean Martin in Rio Bravo, practically the same part. John Wayne, he also did the same thing in both. He played John Wayne. \par
BO CATLETT: Man, I can't wait for you to be dead. \par
CHILI: Bear, you're not really gonna -- \par
The Bear hooks one to Chili's face. Chili drops to his knees. \par
BEAR: That's for the stairs. \par
The Bear kicks him, sending Chili back into the living room at Karen's feet. \par
BEAR: Ever fallen down stairs before? It really hurts . . . \par
KAREN: Hey -- \par
Karen moves to help Chili. Bo raises the gun . . . \par
BO CATLETT: You wanna go first, honey? That's fine with me. \par
Bear picks up Chili . . . \par
BO CATLETT: Get him off my carpet, you gonna make him bleed like that. \par
The Bear knees Chili in the gut, then shoves him out on to the balcony. Bo Catlett follows them out there . . . \par
BO CATLETT: Like I say, 'I warned him, officer, but he kept coming at me . . .' \par
The Bear follows Chili out, hits him again. \par
BEAR: And that's for the airport. \par
BO CATLETT: Hey, he should have a weapon, a knife or something. \par
BEAR: We'll get it later. \par
And the Bear hits Chili again . . . \par
BO CATLETT: Okay, Bear . . . that's enongh. \par
But the Bear can't stop, keeps hitting Chili. Bo moves up to the Bear . . . \par
BO CATLETT: Hey, Bear . . . enough! \par
The Bear looks at Bo Catlett . . . \par
BO CATLETT: You keep hittin' him like that, he ain't gonna look like he broke in anymore, he gonna look like someone beat him up and then shot him. \par
BEAR: You're right. \par
And then the Bear, holding on to the back of Chili's shirt, shoves him towards Bo Catlett, who takes a step back, and grabs the rail behind behind him, and drops the gun as he gets a funny look on his face as . . . THE RAIL BREAKS AWA Y . . . \par
BO CATLETT: Fuck . . . \par
He flails a moment, grabbing at spare, but then quickly grabs on to Chili . . . \par
CHILI: Hey -- \par
The Bear tries to pull Chili back, but ends up holding a handful of Chili's shirt as both Chili and Bo Catlett go over the rail together and drop from sight . . . \par
KAREN: Chili! \par
EXT. FROM THE HOUSE BELOW -- LOOKING UP AT BO CATLETT'S HOUSE \par
As a body falls . . . too dark to see who . . . \par
EXT. BO CATLETT'S DECK -- SAME TIME \par
As Karen spots THE GUN on the deck as two hands apprar on the edge and the Bear rushes forward . . . \par
BEAR: C'mon, man, gimme your hand . . . we gotta get outta here . . . \par
Behind the Bear, Karen picks the gun up off the deck, points it at the Bear. . . \par
BEAR: Hey, Karen, don't -- \par
The Bear reaches down again and BOOM! Karen SHOOTS THE BEAR IN THE LEG. He cries out, falls back and lets go of . . . \par
CHILI \par
Who now barely hangs on to the deck. \par
CHILI: Karen! What the fuck are you doing?! \par
KAREN: Oh, shit . . . I'm sorry . . . I thought that was . . . I'm so sorry . . . \par
She comes over to the edge . . . helps the now wounded Bear pull Chili back up on to the deck. Then they all stand there looking down at Bo Catlett lying in the weeds and scraggly bushes, a hundred or so feet down, not moving. \par
Marvin Gaye singing 'Ain't No Mountain High Enongh' as Chili then steps back, looks at the railing . . . \par
CHILI: Jesus. How'd that happen? \par
The Bear starts taking bolts and nuts, old used ones, out of his pants pockets. Wiping each one on his shirt before dropping it over the side . . . \par
BEAR: Beats the shit out of me. \par
BO CATLETT'S POV -- CHILI, KAREN, & THE BEAR \par
The three of them looking down. Slowly the picture gets blurry as we then . . . \par
FADE OUT. \par
We then TILT DOWN TO REVEAL: \par
EXT. SUNSET MARQUIS HOTEL -- NIGHT \par
As Chili and Karen pull to the curb out front. She looks at him . . . \par
KAREN: Were you scared up there? \par
CHILI: You bet. \par
KAREN: You don't act like it? \par
CHILI: I was scared then, not now. How long you want me to be scared? \par
She looks off, shakes her head . . . \par
CHILI: I'll be right back. \par
KAREN: (shakes her head) Go get your stuff. \par
INT. CHILI'S ROOM -- NIGHT \par
As Chili enters, takes off his suitcoat, drapes it over a chair. He takes his suitcase out of the closet, throws it on the bed, and freezes as . . . \par
RAY BONES \par
extending the 9mm at Chili, comes out of the bathroom. \par
CHILI: You don't need that. You want to sit down and talk, it's fine with me. Get this straightened out. \par
Bones steps further into the room as Chili turns his back on Bones, walks to the sofa and sits down. \par
CHILI: How'd you get in here? \par
BONES: I told them I was you. I acted stupid and they believed me. \par
CHILI: So what brings you to L.A., Bones? \par
BONES: Don't insult me. Get up and turn around. \par
Chili gets to his feet. Bones motions with the gun and he turns to face the painting over the sofa. Bones comes over and lifts his wallet from his back pocket. \par
BONES: You're the dumbest fucking guy I ever met in my life. Let's see what's in your pockets. \par
His face still to the wall, Chili shoves his hands in and pulls the side pockets out. Bones turns away. \par
BONES: What you should've done was told me about Leo Devoe as soon as you found out. \par
Chili looks over his shoulder to see Bones pulling his suitcoat from the back of the chair . . . \par
CHILI: Why would I do that? \par
BONES: 'Cause the guy's a customer now, stupid. His ass belongs to me. \par
Bones lays the pistol on the conuter, holds the suitcoat with one hand and feels through it with the other expression changes, his eyes open wider. \par
BONES: What have we here? \par
His hand comes out of the suitcoat with the LOCKER KEY. Chili sits down on the sofa again; he can't believe how easy this is gonna be . . . \par
CHILI: Give me my cigarettes. They're in the inside pocket. \par
Bones throws him the coat. \par
BONES: Help yourself. \par
Bones then holds up the key to look at it. \par
BONES: C-one-eight. \par
Frowning now. Putting on a show. \par
BONES: I wonder what this's for, a locker? Yeah, but where is it? \par
Chili sits back to smoke his cigarette, lets it happen. \par
CHILI: I checked the bag at the airport, when I came. \par
BONES: Yeah? Which terminal? \par
CHILI: (beat) Sovereign. \par
BONES: You found Leo, didn't you? Took the poor asshole's money and put it in a locker, ready to go. (looks at him) Why haven't you left? \par
CHILI: I like it here. \par
Chili shrugs. Bones eyes the key a moment, then . . . \par
BONES: Look, there's no reason you and I shouldn't get along. Forget all the bullshit from before -- I don't even remember how it started. You took a swing at me over some fuckin' thing, whatever it was -- forget it. You owe me some money, right? Forget that too. But, you don't say a fuckin' word about this to anybody. It's strictly between you and me, right? \par
CHILI: Whatever you want, Ray. \par
EXT. SUNSET MARQUIS HOTEL -- NIGHT \par
As Ray Bones gets into a cab . . . \par
WOMAN: (V.O.) Drug Enforcement Agency. \par
INT. CHILI'S HOTEL ROOM -- LATER \par
Chili is on the telephone. \par
CHILI: I wanna speak to the agent in charge. \par
WOMAN: (PHONE) What is this in regard to? \par
CHILI: A locker out at the airport, full of money. \par
Chili waits. Then . . . \par
MAN'S VOICE: (PHONE) Who's speaking please? \par
CHILI: I can't tell you. It's an anonymous call. \par
MAN: (PHONE) Are you the same anonymous asshole called the other day? \par
CHILI: No, this is a different one. Have you looked in that locker, C-one-eight? \par
There's a pause on the line. \par
MAN: You're helping us out. I'd like to know who this is. \par
CHILI: I bet you would. You want to chat or you want me to tell you who to look for? The guy's on his way out there right now. \par
MAN: You know there's a reward for information that leads to a conviction. That's why I have to know who this is. \par
CHILI: I'll get my reward in heaven. The guy you want has a bullet scar in his head and is wearing gray shoes. You can't miss him. \par
EXT. SUNSET MARQUIS -- NIGHT \par
As Chili follows the bellboy out of the hotel. He tips the guy, then gets in the car with Karen. \par
KAREN: What took you so long? \par
CHILI: Couldn't find my toothbrush. \par
He kisses her, then starts the car. \par
EXT. SOVEREIGN TERMINAL -- LAX -- NIGHT \par
As Bones, seen only from the back now, gets out of the cab, enters the terminal. \par
INT. SOVEREIGN TERMINAL -- SAME TIME \par
As Ray Bones, still seen only from the back casually strolls through the terminal, playing with the LOCKER KEY in his hand. \par
Ray walks right up to C-18 and inserts the key, turns it, and opens the locker to reveal a BLACK ATHLETIC BAG sitting inside . . . Chuckling, he then reaches inside . . . \par
. . . then stiffens as we hear A CLICK as a RED LASER DOT hits him in the temple . . . \par
VOICE: Look at me, Boots. \par
Bones turns his head and we see that it's not the Ray Bones we know, but . . . AN ACTOR, a tough-looking guy with a scary face . . . \par
WE PULL BACK FURTHER TO REVEAL: \par
MARTIN WEIR standing there with the biggest fucking gun with laser scope we've ever seen. A BEAUTIFUL WOMAN with the biggest -- well, you get the idea -- is standing next to him . . . She screams . . . \par
WOMAN: Watch it, Steve! \par
Bullets and blood fly as the tough guy pulls a gun from the locker and begins firing wildly at Martin and the Woman and Hare Khrishna's and anybody else who happens to be in the vicinity . . . \par
Martin, the tough guy only two feet away, calmly aims his gun and pulls the trigger, but nothing happens. He shakes the gun . . . \par
MARTIN: Dammit . . . not again . . . \par
DIRECTOR: Cut! \par
PULL BACK FARTHER TO REVEAL: A SOUNDSTAGE \par
Set up like the airport terminal. Martin throws a fit about the malfunctioning prop as The Bear walks up to him. \par
BEAR: Martin, maybe you should dive or roll out of the way or something . . . \par
HARRY: Alright, let's wrap! We'll pick it up tomorrow! \par
As Karen crosses the soundstage, we track along the backs of a row of director's chairs with the names . . . MARTIN WEIR . . . HARRY ZIMM . . . KAREN FLORES AND . . . CHILI PALMER. Chili stands chatting with BUDDY LAFKIN. \par
BUDDY: But Martin already told me he loves it. \par
CHILI: Look, I don't know, Buddy, I don't think Martin's right for this new one. \par
BUDDY: Why the hell not? \par
CHILI: He's too short. \par
EXT. SOUNDSTAGE -- DUSK \par
As Karen, Chili, Harry, Martin, and Buddy all exit the soundstage. Karen and Chili get into Chili's minivan. \par
As they pull out, we see the name 'C. Palmer' painted in the space. \par
We then CRANE UP AND BACK as Harry, Martin, and Buddy each get into their own minivans . . . and we then . . . \par
FADE OUT. \par
\par
http://www.script-o-rama.com/movie_scripts/g/get-shorty-script-screenplay.html\par
\par
\par
}

    Source: geocities.com/hackmangirl1961y/moviescripts

               ( geocities.com/hackmangirl1961y)