THE LAST BOY SCOUT - Daily Script
THE LAST BOY SCOUTwrittenbyShane Black
Bang bang bangDown you goIt's just a job I doGenesisJust a Job to DoYou wanna be a detective? Here's what youdo: Take a trusted friend, and imagine theworst thing, the most despicable thing, thething it would never even cross their mindsto do. Then assume they've already done ittwice.Joseph R. HallenbeckPrivate InvestigatorWhen you consider that a career in pro football means maybe ten years, after which yougot no legs left, and during which you're apainkiller drug addict, a million a yearsounds about right. So when people bitchat me about the money I made, I have a patresponse: Go fuck yourself.James Alexander DixFormer quarterback,L.A. Stallions
THE LAST BOY SCOUTFADE IN:INT. DARK BEDROOMThe only light, that of a flickering TV screen.A big MAN lies, shirtless, on the bed.Watching a sports program. We hear:SPORTS FIGURE (V.O.)(on TV)Eliminating the draft? Worstthing ever happened to profootball. Already you got EricDickerson, no team's good enoughfor him. You got Dion Sanders,this guy, Bosworth, bunch ofpeacocks. Nagurski, I saw himplay for 25 bucks a game. And hewoulda played for free, you getme? He loved the game. Nowadays?Forget about it.The TELEPHONE SHRILLS in the stillness.The Man On the Bed answers it. Speaks haltingly.Hello.?Hello, Billy.this is?MAN ON BEDMALE (V.O.)Do you know whoSilence.MALE (V.O.)Kid from Ohio is looking realgood, Billie.The Man's hand unclenches. A container of pills spillsover the blanket. He stammers:MAN ON BEDI'm. I'm gonna. try realhard.MALE (V.O.)No, Billy. What you're gonna do. is rush for 150 yards againstChicago.MAN ON BEDThat's. too much. I can't.(CONTINUED)
2.CONTINUED:MALE (V.O.)You can. And you will. This is abusiness, Billy. You don't makeone fifty, you're history, the kidsteps in. No more job. and nomore pills, Billy.MAN ON BEDPlease. Just give me time.MALE (V.O.)One hundred and fifty yards.Goodbye.The PHONE CLICKS off. NFL running back Billy Cole staresstraight ahead, mouth working spastically.CUT TO:AERIAL SHOT - SNOWSTORMOVER Chicago, Illinois, as the CAMERA SPIRALS DOWN TOWARDa teeming football stadium. We hear crowd noise andmarching band music, deafeningly loud, as we SUPERIMPOSEthe legend:SOLDIER FIELD, CHICAGONOVEMBER 14INT. ANNOUNCER'S BOOTHThe BROADCAST TEAM huddles inside the quilted jackets,squinting through the snow. Speaking into headset mikes.ANNOUNCERGood afternoon and welcome toSoldier Field, Chicago, site oftoday's confrontation between theL.A. Stallions and the ChicagoBears. This is Vern Lindquistwith Terry Bradshaw, and, yes, myfriends, it is that cold.INT. LOCKER ROOM - SAME TIMEBilly Cole sits, alone, in front of his locker.Eyes glazed. Face bathed in sweat.He takes a bottle of pills from the locker. Pops three.Hisses a stream of air through his teeth as we -CUT TO:
3.EXT. FOOTBALL FIELD - DAY (FOURTH QUARTER)A deafening CRUNCH as a defensive back hammers a widereceiver, nearly decapitates him. The ball rolls free.The back recovers it.ANNOUNCER (V.O.). Big Ray Walton puts adevastating hit on Bricmont, soChicago turns over the ball with aminute and forty seconds left.EXT. SIDELINES - SAME TIMEThe injured player goes by on a stretcher, moaning.Cheerleaders jump and frolic.BILLY COLEgets up off the bench. The rest of the offensive unitsprints onto the field. Cole walks. Straight ahead,eyes front. Like a robot. His HEARTBEAT THUDS on thesoundtrack.COLOR MAN (V.O.)And so L.A. has a chance to icethe game, no pun intended. Andyou gotta be thinking, give theball to Billy Cole. He has had anoutstanding day, racking up 138yards against a tough defense.DOWN ON FIELDThe huddle breaks.The L.A. team trudges through the snow to the line ofscrimmage.Cole adopts a three-point stance.Everything happens in hyper-real SLOW MOTION:The snow falls. The receivers breeze past, in motion tobegin their patterns. Moving like gazelles.Cole's fingers paw the cold earth. Gouging it.He is like a spring. Coiled and ready.The ball is snapped.Turf and snow. Erupting.A firecracker series of POPS as linemen collide.Legs churning.(CONTINUED)
4.CONTINUED:The ball floats through the snowy air. Pitch-out toCole.He takes it on the run. Tucks it under his arm.Behind him, the quarterback bites the dust, leveled.Cole turns the corner. Picks up a blocker.Feet pounding. Arms pumping.Up ahead, the free safety barrels toward him.hard.Low andCole does not blink. He reaches beneath his jersey.Pulls out a GUN.Pumps THREE SHOTS into the free safety's head.The bullets go straight through. On the back of hishelmet.A mixture of blood and fiberglass.Cole keeps going, jogging for the end zone.Around him, sound. Fury. Impact. Confusion.Another defensive back. Straight ahead.Reacts with almost comical terror. Dives to one side.Cole FIRES. Blows out the guy's knee. Ends a career.Keeps going.We are now in full-scale panic.The players are fleeing the field. Shouts. Pandemonium.A few brave men gather around the fallen players.POLICEare on the field now. Running full out. They've gotriot guns, cocked and locked. Sprinting through thesnow.Cole crosses the goal line.Drops the ball.Turns, facing the cops.Touchdown.His eyes are insane.The crowd is screaming. People are running back andforth like extras in the Keystone Cops.The first TWO BLASTS from the cops' RIOT GUNS go high andwide. One SHOT BLOWS APART the base of the goalpost.The forty-foot-high monument pitches over, collapsinglike a wounded giant. Lands in a shower of snow and ice.Cole is oblivious to the bars crashing around him.smiles and says:He(CONTINUED)
5.CONTINUED:COLEI'm going to Disneyland.Puts the GUN to his helmet.FIRES.CUT TO:EXT. L.A. STREET - IN SHADOW OF FREEWAY - MORNINGWe SUPERIMPOSE the legend:WEST LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIADECEMBER 20Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. America, and all the ships atsea. Welcome to another lackluster morning in SouthernCalifornia. Palm trees limp. Windless silence. 80degrees at 8:00 AM.CAMERA CRANES DOWN PAST a huge, rotting billboard. Onthe billboard, a girl in tight jeans. Grabbing her ownbutt. A surprised look on her face. Yes, honey, that'syour butt.MOVE IN ON a tiny, weather-beaten bungalow. In theshadow of the 405 Freeway. A shingle hangs from awrought iron post: JOSEPH R. HALLENBECK, CONFIDENTIALINVESTIGATIONS.On the lawn, a late-model Plymouth.The sprinkers come to life. Fling water across the car.ANOTHER ANGLEInside the car, a lone man is asleep, arms akimbo.Sprawled across the seat. Half-empty bottle of SeagramsV.O. RADIO on, playing tinny JAZZ music.Picture the tiredest, meanest, grouchiest son of a bitchself-hating loser you can.Now give him a two-year-old suit from C & R Clothing.Such is the aforementioned HALLENBECK.ANOTHER ANGLETHREE neighborhood KIDS have gathered around the car.Enjoying the spectacle of a sleeping drunk.One tosses a baseball from hand to hand. One picks hisnose.(CONTINUED)
6.CONTINUED:KID #1Dude's trashed.KID #2Shit, we should do something tohim.Kid #3 continues mining for nose eggs.entire fist is up there. Pause, then:It looks like hisKID #3I know where there's a deadsquirrel.ANOTHER ANGLE - BUNDLE OF PAPER TOWELS - SOME MINUTESLATERwith a tail sticking out.The youngest Kid holds it aloft reverently.Looks in the open car window at Hallenbeck.Still snoozing.Dead to the world.Do it.KID #1They heave the squirrel into the car and run away.A pause. Another pause.Nothing happens.The sprinkler goes round.ANOTHER ANGLEHallenbeck snores. The mashed squirrel perches on hischest. A shadow falls across him as -KIDSreturn, scratching their heads.Goddamn.Staring in at him.KID #2Dude's trashed.KID #3Take his bottle.Kid #1 smiles nervously.patience.Reaches in with infiniteTrembling hand inches closer and closer -And closes on the bottle as, without warning --
7.HALLENBECKsits bolt upright and grabs the Kid and stuffs a .38revolver in the Kid's face and cocks it.HALLENBECKHey, motherfucker.The Kid, of course, shrieks.And the light of sanity dawns in Hallenbeck's eyes.He sucks in a deep breath. Releases the struggling Kid.Swears under his breath. Watches the boys flee interror. Notices a dead squirrel in his lap. Scowls.Heaves it out the window. Pumps a Camel into his mouth.Lights it. Rescues the bottle of Seagrams.Thus begins his morning.He opens the car door. The sprinkler douses him.He gets out. Stands on the lawn.One of the Kids, the toughest one, is standing on thesidewalk.KID #3I'm not scared.Hallenbeck scowls.HALLENBECKYou're on my property, kid.KID #3Sidewalk belongs to thegovernment.Hallenbeck stares at him.Excuse me.Smiles weakly.HALLENBECKHe leans over and vomits on the lawn.One hand gripping the car fender.The sprinkler goes round and round.EXT. MALIBU BEACH FRONT - MORNINGA redwood beach house, mellow in the morning sun.There was a party here last night.Banners. Balloons and streamers. Tawdry in the light ofday.
8.INT. BEACH HOUSE - SAME TIMEA plush bedroom.Sun streams in the window.A YOUNG MAN sits, straddling a backwards chair.foot, bare-chested. Blond hair, perfect tan.He is nursing a beer.Bare-Smoking and staring at --BEDwhere a tawny golden girl lies, serene and innocent.Like a sleeping kitten. Rumpled sheets, one breastexposed. No tan line.The man takes a drag off the cigarette, studies thesleeping girl. Meet Jimmy Dix. Twenty-seven years old,former National League heartthrob.He shakes his head and mutters:JIMMY (YOUNG MAN)Jesus, kid, if only you weren't sodamn ugly.He gets up and goes into the head. Pulls out a glassvial. Dips a coke spoon with practiced ease. Sucks itup a nostril.For one moment, he catches his own eye in the mirror.FLASH CUT TO:FLASHBACK - FOOTBALL FIELDSeventy thousand people screaming.Jimmy in the middle. Younger Jimmy.It's a night game at the Coliseum.Fresher Jimmy.He's the quarterback.The snap. Jimmy fakes the draw. Rolls right.him, all is impact. Sound and fury.He targets a receiver and unleashes a rocket.yard toss, hits the guy between the numbers.AroundSixty-JIMMY'S FACECovered with dirt and mud. Blood, too.Young and proud. Seventy thousand voices tell him he'salive. He makes a difference.
9.BACK TO PRESENTAlone in the bathroom. leaning on the counter.down. A voice calls softly from the bedroom:HeadSLEEPY VOICE (O.S.)Jimmy, are you still here.?Pause, then:I don't know.JIMMYHe looks up at his reflection. Glazed eyes, beardstubble. Crows' feet around the eyes.Yeah.JIMMYI guess I am.He sniffs, clearing his nose.INT. WEST L.A. BUNGALOW - MORNINGHallenbeck opens the door and shambles in.Dark. Depressing. Sprawl of furniture. Stack afterstack of sports magazines. Drop all your belongings outof a plane. They will land like this.He flicks on the light. Crosses to the couch and flopsdown. Plucks a bottle of aspirin from an end table.Next to the bottle, we see -TWO FRAMED PHOTOGRAPHSside by side. In one, younger Hallenbeck is kissingyounger bride. Smiling.In the other, the President of the United States presentsHallenbeck with a medal. They are both smiling beneaththe Presidential Seal.BACK TO SCENEHallenbeck scowls and chews three aspirin.Swallows.The PHONE RINGS. He groans. Chain-lights another smoke,stubs out his old one. Chins the receiver and says:HALLENBECKHallenbeck Investigations.(CONTINUED)
10.CONTINUED:MALE (V.O.)Hey, Joe, Mike Miller over atSwerdlow. You got a minute?Mmmmm.HALLENBECKMALE (V.O.)Mmmmm? What's mmmmm? Jeez, yousound fucking terrific. What'dyou do last night?HALLENBECKSat in the car. Looked at the sky.Got hammered.How bad?MALE (V.O.)HALLENBECKI killed a squirrel and don't evenremember.MALE (V.O.)That's bad, Joe.HALLENBECKTell me about it. Look, I crawledout of a perfectly good bottle toanswer the phone, what the fuck doyou want?MALE (V.O.)Still takin' charity?HALLENBECKNo pride here. What'cha got?MALE (V.O.)Stripper in West Hollywood. Livesalone. Very hot. A three on myfinger scale. Means I'd cut offthree of my fingers if God wouldlet me sleep with her.HALLENBECKMake her a one on your nose scale.Improve your looks.MALE (V.O.)Eat me. Deal is this: She's gota psycho, threatens her over thephone. I'm gonna rape you, cutyou, the usual crap.(MORE)(CONTINUED)
11.CONTINUED:MALE (V.O.) (CONT'D)She thinks he's following her.I'm up to here, you got plans?HALLENBECKI was gonna smoke some cigarettes.MALE (V.O.)Can you postpone?HALLENBECKThese are really good cigarettes.MALE (V.O.)She goes onstage at seven.two hundred bucks, Joe.It'sHALLENBECK(sighs)Gimmee the address.Terrific.okay? Tryif you canpart. Notokay?MALE (V.O.)And, Joe, big favor,to. fix yourself up,manage it. Look thelike the last time,Hallenbeck catches his reflection in the mirror overthe TV. His face is ashen grey. Hollow eye sockets.Blotchy skin.HALLENBECKGimmee the address.EXT. BUNGALOW - MORNINGHallenbeck emerges into the blinding glare. His tie iscrooked. His cuffs are too short. He looks like agrouchy bear.He looks up at the girl on the billboard.HALLENBECK'Morning, gorgeous.Gorgeous does not respond:Coy.Very coy.Hallenbeck slides behind the wheel of his Plymouth.the IGNITION. Phil Woods' SAXOPHONE fills the air.looks at himself in the mirror.KEYSHe(CONTINUED)
12.CONTINUED:HALLENBECK(softly)Nobody likes you. Everybody hatesyou. You're an asshole and you'restupid. You're gonna lose.(pause)Smile, you fuck.He stretches his mouth into a grimace.Pulls out into the street. Off he goes.CUT TO:INT. MALIBU BEACH HOUSE - MORNINGJimmy Dix leaves the bedroom. Pads barefoot down a halllittered with beer cans, food wrappers. A sleeping guy.Stops at a door, peeks in: all-night poker game inprogress. Four bleary-eyed men. Unshaven. Stack ofwrinkled money on a card table.JIMMY'Morning, boys.They all grunt. One of them, name of HENRY, looks up athim. Holds out a half-smoked doobie:Hey, Jimmy.this?HENRYYou want some ofJIMMYNo, man. Why do you think theycall it dope?(beat)Henry, did I do anything last nightthat I should know about?HENRYYou puked a couple times. Pointedat some lady's tits. Chased a dogfor a half an hour. Fucked acongressman's daughter, shit onsomeone's car.JIMMYNo, man, I meant something bad,that I should know about.(CONTINUED)
13.CONTINUED:HENRYNope.(frowns)My ass hurts, I think I had gaysex last night. I don't remember.When are you gonna come look atmy gun collection?Mmmm.Soon, Henry.JIMMYOne of the other PLAYERS looks up, says:PLAYERAre you Jimmy Dix? Played for theStallions?JIMMY'86 and '87, that was me.PLAYERHell, I think the league gave youa raw deal.Thanks.floats.JIMMYWhat the hell, shitI'll be back.I hope so.I'll be back.Everyone plays cards.Leaves.PLAYERJIMMYNo one looks at him.He frowns.INT. LIVING ROOM - MINUTES LATERJimmy is seated in the devastated living room. Puttingon shoes. He hears a COMMOTION outside: A woman screaming. Water splashing. He frowns, puzzled. Gets up.Pads out onto a redwood deck.EXT. REDWOOD DECK - SAMEA six-foot behemoth is seated in a jacuzzi at the far endof the deck. He is dunking a terrified female head underthe water and laughing.Jimmy clears his throat.(CONTINUED)
14.CONTINUED:Ho.Ray.JIMMYThe MAN looks up, annoyed.RAY (MAN)What the fuck you want, Jimmy?JIMMYWhat's with the girl?She surfaces, sputtering and screaming.beneath the surface again.Ray thrusts herRAYBitch won't blow me.JIMMY(pause, then)Too early in the morning, Ray.Let her go.RAYFuck you. She's not coming uptill she starts blowing.Jimmy swallows hard.Ray.Says:JIMMYLet her go.RAYFuck you, loser. What are you doingat a league party, asshole? You andol' Dex Manley should get together,swap stories about gettin' booted.Jimmy controls himself with an effort.JIMMYRay, she's gonna drown.RAYNot if she blows me.Jimmy's eyes are smoldering. He steps to the right.Casually scoops up a football lying on the deck.JIMMYLast chance, Ray.Go spit.RAY(CONTINUED)
15.CONTINUED:Fine.JIMMYJimmy turns, as if to walk away.Instead, he spins back and launches the football.It sings, that's how hard he throws it. And when itsmacks Ray in the face, something breaks. It ain't theball.The big man howls. Clutching his flattened nose.The girl comes up for air. Gagging and choking.Jimmy is at her side instantly. Pulls her out of thewater.JIMMYGet out of here. Go.She goes. He leans over and grabs Ray by the hair.The guy is bleeding. Delirious.Jimmy yanks until their faces are inches apart.JIMMYBest arm in the National League,you son of a bitch. Remember that.He lets go. Ray sags, semi-conscious.The poker players come running as Jimmy walks back inside.EXT. COAST HIGHWAY - DAYJimmy gets into the car. Takes out his vial.Spoons some powder, sucks it up.A voice in the background: "Hey, someone shit on my car!"EXT. SUBURBAN NEIGHBORHOOD - DAYJoe Hallenbeck slides his Plymouth to the curb in frontof a cozy stucco dwelling. Gets out, crosses the lawn.A fat NEIGHBOR is watering shrubs next door. He waves.NEIGHBOR'Morning, Joe, how's it going?HALLENBECKMy ears are burning, Andy. Evenas we speak, someone, somewhere iscalling me an asshole.You're funny.NEIGHBORHALLENBECKI'm playing Tahoe on the 15th.
16.INT. HALLENBECK'S HOUSE - SAME TIMEHallenbeck enters and crosses the living room.A woman, forty-ish, once beautiful, appears in the bedroomdoorway. Wearing a terry cloth robe. This is Joe's wifeSARAH.SARAHI thought you were in Las Vegas.I was.HALLENBECKSARAHWhere did you sleep?Office.HALLENBECKHe brushes past her and crosses to the bed.a big stuffed cat toy smiles benignly.On the pillow,HALLENBECKHey, Furry Tom.He sits on the bed. Lights a cigarette. Opens the nightstand and removes a speedloader for his .38. Starts toload the gun.SARAHHow much did you lose?HALLENBECKI wasn't there to gamble.doing a skip trace.I wasSARAHHow much did you lose?Fifty bucks.HALLENBECKHe suddenly notices a sheet of paper on the night stand.A crayon sketch. He picks it up, frowns:What's this?HALLENBECKSARAHDarian's class drew holidaypictures. That was hers. Herteacher wants to see us, Joe.
17.CLOSE ON DRAWINGIt's a picture of Santa Claus, except this Santa has long,stringy hair, bloodshot eyes, and grotesque talons. Alittle girl's severed head is clutched in one hand.Underneath, in block capitals, is written: SATAN CLAUS.BACK TO SCENEHALLENBECKSatan Claus. Kid's got some talent,don't you think?It's hideous.Her voice is ice cold.SARAHJoe turns and regards her levelly.HALLENBECKYou okay, Sarah.?SARAHI'm tense. I couldn't get tosleep last night.HALLENBECKHmmmm. Well, I think the kidwill be fine. Boys still teaseher about the headgear?SARAHAre you kidding? Brace Face, that'sthe latest. Little bastards.HALLENBECK(under his breath)She'll be fucking them by thetime she's fourteen.SARAHWatch your Goddamn mouth, Joe.HALLENBECKWell, Christ, you let her wearenough makeup. The kid looks likea goddamn raccoon. She comes inlate at night, I think, 'Christ,a burglar.' I almost shot hertwice.SARAHYou're not funny. All the girlsat that school wear makeup.(CONTINUED)
18.CONTINUED:HALLENBECKYeah, but they don't apply it witha paint sprayer. And for yourinformation, our neighbors thinkI'm very funny.SARAHGo live with them.HALLENBECKDon't tempt me.He tosses the holstered .38 on the bed.the bathroom.Stalks intoINT. BATHROOMDamn raccoon.HALLENBECKHe sighs, tosses his cigarette butt in the toilet.Walks back out into the bedroom.INT. BEDROOMHe kneels, looks under the bed.Frowns.Straightens and says, very conversationally:HALLENBECKWho's the guy in the closet?Sarah stops dead.Spins and stares at him.Excuse me?SARAHHALLENBECK(frowns)Oh, that's right, you sometimesforget that I'm a detective.(lights a cigarette)See, first I noticed how tense youwere, but I let that pass. ThenI noticed there was steam in theshower like someone was just inthere, but meanwhile your hair iscompletely dry, you follow? So.Why the steamy shower?(MORE)(CONTINUED)
19.CONTINUED:HALLENBECK (CONT'D)Because someone else was in there,right, and since he's not underthe bed you must have stuck him inthe closet when you heard my key inthe door a day early. Tah-dah.Please, no applause.A silence hangs between them.her head.Sarah just stares.SARAHWell, nothing changes.still a lunatic.ShakesYou'reHALLENBECKMmmmm. I'm sorry, honey, I don'tenjoy being observant, but someone'sgotta do it.(beat)What's his name?Please leave.SARAHI have to get dressed.HALLENBECKIt's okay, I've seen you naked. So,apparently, has someone else. What'shis name?SARAHYou want me to open the closet, Joe?Huh? You want me to indulge yourfucking paranoia, I'll throw thedoor open, is that what you want meto do.?HALLENBECKIs this a trick question?SARAHI'll do it, Joe. Okay? And thenwe'll both know you're a psycho,is that what you want? Huh?An awkward pause.No.Finally Hallenbeck scowls and says:HALLENBECKWe won't open the door.Thank you.SARAH(CONTINUED)
20.CONTINUED:HALLENBECK(sighs)Nope. Door stays shut. Instead,what I'm gonna do is.(he scoops up the.38). I'm gonna count to three, andthen I'm gonna put a bullet inthere, and you can stop me anytimeby speaking the truth. One.SARAHIf you shoot up my house, Joe, Iwill make you eat that gun.HALLENBECKTwo. The truth is a beautifulthing.He cocks the hammer.Arm extended, hand rock steady.SARAHCall your shrink, Joe. I stillhave the number. Call him and tellhim you're losing it, I cannotfucking deal with you like this -- !Three.HALLENBECKLast chance.SARAHJoe, dammit -- !He sighs. Starts to pull the trigger.screams --And SarahSARAHJesus, no -- !And grabs the gun.Everything freezes. She looks at him.Understanding occurs.He looks at her.CLOSET DOORswings slowly open, then.And out steps a man in a bathrobe.Compact. Wiry. Hair still soaking wet.None other than MIKE MILLER, Joe's early morning phone call.We know this because Joe says:(CONTINUED)
21.CONTINUED:HALLENBECKKeeping her warmHello, Mike.for me?The gun barrel does not waver.Easy, Joe.Not an inch.MILLERDon't do nothing dumb.HALLENBECKHow as she, Mike? On your fingerscale, how was my wife.?MILLERIt just happened, Joe.happened.It justHALLENBECKYou call me from here this morning?MILLERShe said you were in Vegas. I wasgonna leave a message on the machine.HALLENBECKWhen you found out I was back.didn't you split?WhyMILLERShe said relax, he never stops homeonce he's in the office.HALLENBECKNormally I wouldn't.MILLER(stares at him)You knew?HALLENBECKI suspected. So how about it, Mike?On a scale of one to ten. How wasshe?MILLERJoe, come on, how long we beenfriends, huh?HALLENBECKHow long? Mmm. I'd say roughlyuntil you put your dick in mywife.(CONTINUED)
22.CONTINUED:MILLERYou gotta understand -HALLENBECKI know, I know, it just happened.It was an accident. Sure. Youtripped. You said, 'Whoops,' andaccidentally fucked my wife. Gee,Mrs. H., I'm sorry, just isn't myweek. Sure, Mike. Happen toanybody.(beat)I don't gotta understand anything.Sarah speaks then.Head down.Eyes averted.SARAHPut the gun down.HALLENBECKOh, right, the gun.(sighs)You're right, Sarah, I'm acting nuts.Hmmm?He pulls the trigger.The SHOT is DEAFENING in the closed room.Mike Miller screams and clutches at himself.The bullet goes high and wide. Over his head.On the wall is a framed wedding photo. The twin of theone in Hallenbeck's office. The bullet strikes it deadcenter.Blows it to pieces.Silence. The tinkle of glass hitting the floor.Hallenbeck turns. Regards his wife with hooded, lifelesseyes.HALLENBECKWhere was Darian?SARAHShe stayed at Cindy's last night.He nods.Turns and waves the gun at Miller.HALLENBECKLet's take a walk, Buddy.EXT. SUBURBAN STREET - DAYThe two men come out the back door and cut through thehedge.(CONTINUED)
23.CONTINUED:Miller's car, a Pontiac Sunbird, is parked at the curb.Hallenbeck stops in the middle of someone's yard.Holsters his gun.A neighbor's dog approaches, happily wagging its tail.Hallenbeck bends and ruffles its fur.HALLENBECKWhere you want it, Mike?or gut?HeadMILLERListen, Joe, I -(stops, sighs)Gut.Hallenbeck pats the dog. Straightens. Plants his backfoot and spins. Punches like a sledgehammer, into Miller'sgut.Miller drops to his knees. Begins to retch.Hallenbeck takes out a cigarette. Lights it.HALLENBECKIf I see you again, I'll killyou.Miller nods weakly.Gasping for breath.HALLENBECKWest Hollywood at seven, right?So.MILLERHuh.?The job.HALLENBECKSeven o'clock, right?MILLERYou still. want the job.?HALLENBECKIt's two hundred bucks.Yeah.MILLERI guess it is.He climbs to his feet, still doubled over.MILLERI'm sorry, Joe.(CONTINUED)
24.CONTINUED:Hallenbeck says nothing. Miller turns and stumbles tohis car. Hallenbeck's face betrays nothing. A dead mask.He walks back toward the hedge.The neighbor's dog runs up, a tennis ball in its mouth.Behind him, Mike Miller gets into the Sunbird.Hallenbeck takes the tennis ball. Throws it.The DOG BARKS and bounds after it.Mike Miller turns the key in the ignition.The CAR BLOWS to pieces.An ERUPTION OF FLAME.Flying glass and metal. The car becomes airborne.Engulfed in fire. Does a lazy spin. Comes down.The shockwave catches Hallenbeck.teacups.Slams him ass overWindows blow in up and down the street.Smoke and fire roll to the sky.The DOG cowers, HOWLING in fear.Beside it on the grass, the tennis ball is on fire.Hallenbeck rolls to his feet. Covered with twigs andleaves. Clothing scorched. Stares. Eyes glazed.CUT TO:EXT. SUBURBAN STREET - AN HOUR LATERA mobile crane hoists what's left of Mike Miller and hisPontiac. Policemen direct traffic, curb bystanders.OFF TO ONE SIDEa UNIFORM COP questions Hallenbeck and Sarah, who standstiffly. Not looking at each other.UNIFORM COPWhy did Mr. Miller visit your homethis morning, Mr. Hallenbeck?Joe lies easily:(CONTINUED)
25.CONTINUED:HALLENBECKHe came by to talk business. Hehad a case he was to busy to continuewith, a routine surveillance. Hefarmed it out to me.I see.about?Yeah.UNIFORM COPIs that all you talkedHALLENBECKThat's all.He looks the Officer in the eye.Betrays nothing.CUT TO:NAKED, GYRATING BODYFemale, for the record.Signaling us that we are now:INT. "BOTTOMLESS PIT" CLUB - NIGHTRowdy strip club insuggests; if it's athree drinks, everyschool sweetheart.have excessive bodyWest Hollywood. Just like the namevirus, you're sitting on it. Aftergirl on stage looks like your highWas your sweetheart fat? Did shehair?FUNK MUSIC, played LOUD. The Monday crowd stomps andclaps. Onstage a stripper grinds away with an enthusiasmusually reserved for standing in line at the DMV.Jimmy Dix sits at the bar, hooting and whistling. Behindthe bar, a black man in a wheelchair serves drinks. Hisname is HARP.Off to one side, a twenty-five-year-old BEANPOLE speaksinto a microphone:EMCEE (BEANPOLE)Flash of green buys a flash ofpink, gentlemen. So reach intoyour pockets if you aren't therealready, and reward the lovelyand talented Ms. Vixen.!The black man shakes his head.(CONTINUED)
26.CONTINUED:HARPMy son. He writes his ownmaterial, he's proud of that. Somepeople are proud, they curedleukemia. Old guy stops beatingoff long enough to laugh, my sonthinks he's Eddie Murphy.Jimmy uncaps a beer and raises it in a toast.JIMMYAlex the astronaut.Harp raises his own glass.HARPAlex the astronaut.It seems to be a common ritual between them. Jimmydrinks, thumps the bottle down. Says, resolutely:JIMMYI've had it, Harp.Had what?HARPJIMMYIt, man. I've had it.(takes a swig)I don't remember what I did lastnight. I'm an idiot, Harp, I actlike a complete dickhead. I don'thave friends. I drink too much.I fuck anything that's warm andbreathing.HARPStay on that side of the bar.JIMMY(sighs)I cheated on my girl friend again.HARPYou cheated on her?crazy.You must beJIMMYMaybe so, Harp. Maybe so.His gaze wanders across the crowded room, fixating on --
27.SCANTILY-CLAD WAITRESSWho makes her way between the tables. She is beautiful.Stands out like a teamster at a gay rights rally. Supplebody. Deep green eyes. Flaxen hair. Her name is CORY.She stops at a table against the wall. Puts down aSeagrams V.O. in a rocks glass.Seated at the table is a broad-shouldered man in a badsuit. The essence of boredom. Looks like he's beenthere three days. A cloud of smoke hangs around hishead. Mr. Joe Hallenbeck, no less.HALLENBECKThe police won't help you, huh?CORYSure. After I'm dead they'llperform the autopsy.HALLENBECKGuess you don't want to wait thatlong.Guess not.CORYHALLENBECK(scowls)They only play this kind of music?CORYWhat did you expect?Pat Boone?HALLENBECKThe Four Freshmen?CORYWhat are you, my father?HALLENBECKYes, I'm your father. Get yourclothes on.(beat)I hate this funk shit. It's gonnabe an extra hundred bucks.CORYYou're hilarious. Sit next tothe speaker, you'll get used toit. After a while you'll bescreaming play that funky musicwhite boy.HALLENBECKThe screaming part I believe.(CONTINUED)
28.CONTINUED:She smiles and moves away.Hallenbeck sips his drink.eyes.Scans the crowd with shrewdANOTHER ANGLEThe lovely Cory approaches Jimmy at the bar.on.Harp looksCORY(seductive)Hello, handsome. How'd you liketo buy me a bottle of champagne?JIMMYHow much for a bottle?CORYForty dollars.JIMMYNo thanks. Nothing personal, myseventh grade teacher was killedby a drunk driver.Tall guy?CORYSandy hair?JIMMYThat's the one.CORYI had to swerve three times toget him.JIMMYHa-ha.CORYSo no bottle, then?JIMMYFor forty bucks I'd rather drinkmy own piss.That's extra.CORYAnd with that, she leans over and moulds her lips to his.Time passes. These two know each other, it would seem.Cory pulls away. Jimmy smiles.Hi, Cory.JIMMYRough night?(CONTINUED)
29.CONTINUED:Arrgh.CORYI've had it to here.JIMMY(grins)I'll bet you have.She slaps his face.Hallenbeck.He feigns innocence.Points toJIMMYWho's the stiff?CORYHe's nobody.(beat)I have to get ready to dance.JIMMYCome back soon. I want to buyyou a drink.She smiles and moves off, swishingly. Jimmy watches hergo. His gaze wanders across the room to Hallenbeck. Hefrowns.ANOTHER ANGLENear the stage, the would-be Eddie Murphy steps up tothe mike and says:EMCEEYou know, crowd, these ladies arefine, but let me tell you the three
When you consider that a career in pro foot-ball means maybe ten years, after which you got no legs left, and during which you're a painkiller drug addict, a million a year sounds about right. So when people bitch at me about the money I made, I have a pat response: Go fuck yoursel
May 02, 2018 · D. Program Evaluation ͟The organization has provided a description of the framework for how each program will be evaluated. The framework should include all the elements below: ͟The evaluation methods are cost-effective for the organization ͟Quantitative and qualitative data is being collected (at Basics tier, data collection must have begun)
Silat is a combative art of self-defense and survival rooted from Matay archipelago. It was traced at thé early of Langkasuka Kingdom (2nd century CE) till thé reign of Melaka (Malaysia) Sultanate era (13th century). Silat has now evolved to become part of social culture and tradition with thé appearance of a fine physical and spiritual .
1. The Boy Scout Learns 2. The Boy Scout is Tested 3. The Boy Scout is Reviewed 4. The Boy Scout is Recognized Advancement is not a goal. It is a natural outcome of a planned, quality troop program. The Troop’s Advancement Policy (revised December 1, 2010) is available on the web site unde
On an exceptional basis, Member States may request UNESCO to provide thé candidates with access to thé platform so they can complète thé form by themselves. Thèse requests must be addressed to esd rize unesco. or by 15 A ril 2021 UNESCO will provide thé nomineewith accessto thé platform via their émail address.
̶The leading indicator of employee engagement is based on the quality of the relationship between employee and supervisor Empower your managers! ̶Help them understand the impact on the organization ̶Share important changes, plan options, tasks, and deadlines ̶Provide key messages and talking points ̶Prepare them to answer employee questions
Dr. Sunita Bharatwal** Dr. Pawan Garga*** Abstract Customer satisfaction is derived from thè functionalities and values, a product or Service can provide. The current study aims to segregate thè dimensions of ordine Service quality and gather insights on its impact on web shopping. The trends of purchases have
Boy Scout and Boy Scout leader, left sleeve, position 1, just below shoulder seam. unit number, cloth, green on tan, Nos. 10400 through 10408 (last digit indicates the unit number for 0 through 8); for unit number 9, order No. 10406. Boy Scout and Boy Scout leader, left sleeve, position 2, touching council shoulder emblem if veteran unit bar is not
and 3 Grades 3rd Graders Bridge to Girl Scout Juniors Girl Scout Juniors th4th thand 5 Grades 5 Graders Bridge to Girl Scout Cadettes Girl Scout Cadettes th th6 , 7th and 8 Grades 8th Graders Bridge to Girl Scout Seniors Girl Scout Seniors th 9 and 10 th Grades 10 Graders Bridge to Girl Scout Ambassadors Girl Scout Ambassadors th11 and 12th Grades 12th Graders Bridge to Adult Girl Scouting
