All Roads Lead Home
" When he gave us
our air rifles,
Atticus wouldn't teach us
to shoot.
Uncle Jack instructed us in
the rudiments thereof.
He said Atticus wasn't
interested in guns.
And Atticus said to Jem,
'I'd rather you shot at tin cans
in the backyard,
but I know you'll go
after the birds.
Shoot all the blue jays you want
if you can hit 'em,
but remember it's a sin
to kill a mockingbird."'
Cody, take them feed sacks
to the barn.
I think you want a ranch hand,
not a son-in-law.
You know, with you
I'd settle for either.
Where is my granddaughter?
Where is she?
Come here, you.
Come here, you.
Yeah, there we go.
Easy, Dad.
She's not one of your roustabouts.
Well, she's a Banyon,
isn't she?
At least partways.
Best part, right, Grandpa?
You're not just whistling Dixie.
It's in your blood, little one.
And now listen, since you've
proven so astoundingly proficient
at naming horses,
like that little spindly-legged
rockhead of a colt out there...
- Apache Wind.
- Apache Wind.
Since you did that so much better
than I expected,
I find myself humbly in need
of your nomenclative
services once again.
Whoa!
Not just so quick.
There is a protocol
to be observed.
You know the naming of a horse
or a son or daughter
or a granddaughter,
you know,
it's not just a name.
I mean, a name's got
to mean something to you.
It's got to say,
"This is who I am in the world.
I am a force
to be reckoned with."
Okay.
Mom, a puppy!
A puppy?
That's not a puppy!
Belle, that is 25 generations
of the best breeding and bloodlines
and bearing that's ever
gone into four legs.
- That there is...
- Atticus.
- Who?
- Atticus.
Oh, Mom,
can we keep him, please?
Just a second, Belle.
I mean, I paid a lot of money
for this dog.
And he's gotta make me
some puppies
so that I can make
my money back.
Now what we could do
is you could visit him
anytime you want
and when the time's
a little righter,
you could have the pick
of the litter.
- Is that a deal?
- Deal.
Okay.
Well, somebody's gotta do
some work around here.
- Bye, Dad.
- Mm-hmm.
"I asked Miss Maudie about it.
'Your father's right,' she said.
'Mockingbirds don't do one thing
but make music
for us to enjoy.
They don't eat up
people's gardens,
don't nest in corn cribs.
They don't do one thing,
but sing their hearts out for us.
That's why it's a sin
to kill a mockingbird."'
I love you, Cody.
Belle.
I love you, baby.
Cover up, honey.
Oh, my God!
- Daddy...
- Shh!
" And God shall
wipe away all tears
from their eyes,
and there shall be
death no more.
Neither sorrow nor crying,
neither shall there be
anymore pain.
For the former things
have passed away."
Here you go.
Four, eight, a tenth.
Shoot, the man don't even
have a stopwatch.
He's got a stopwatch.
It's in his head.
You ought to taste
his three-minute eggs.
You did good today,
Apache Wind, real good.
That's a beautiful horse, Hock.
And our consortium
is agreeable to your stud fees,
but we are a tad concerned
about your proposed
ownership percentages of the colt.
Frankly, we'd just as soon own
the two-year old outright.
That... that ain't chicken feed.
You know,
I can't read this right now.
I don't have my specs.
Oh, Mrs. Wimmer,
I am so sorry.
Oh, faddle, Lillian. Mr. Magoo
and I have nothing but time.
Isn't that right, Magoo?
Come on inside. Come on.
Mrs. Wimmer, Magoo isn't due
for his parvo booster
for another three months yet,
and even though I love seeing you,
as I told you yesterday,
he's the perfect picture of health.
Okay, just a quick look.
Come here, buddy.
How about some kisses?
You wanna give me
some kisses?
Oh, you're so cute.
You're so cute.
Oh, Magoo!
You did it again.
It's okay.
I have never seen
such concentration.
I wish she'd apply it
to her book work.
Hey, Belle,
you know who was asking
for you today?
Who?
Nobody!
You guys called me out here
for another crazy cat lady?
We'll just have to...
Why should we have
all the fun?
- 17 so far.
- There's one more through to the back.
Guys, I don't have time for this.
I've got my daughter's thing...
- This cat got a name?
- She calls him Mrs. Snuffles.
It's through there.
Mrs. Snuffles!
Kitty-kitty-kitty-kitty-kitty.
We got you.
Why don't we go
to my office?
What about my dad?
We can talk to him together.
- Went by the school.
- Good for you.
You're supposed to wait for me.
That's the rule.
Rules change.
Mrs. Melton's pretty miffed
at you for skipping out on her.
She'll get over it.
Why don't you hop in?
I got another stop to make.
I want you to see what I got
in the back. It's pretty cool stuff.
I'd rather eat slugs.
I was thinking pizza,
but all right.
Belle, I'm sorry.
You're always sorry.
You invented sorry.
Well, you can't just let
her eat anything.
That's why they call it
cat food, Mr. Wong.
It's food for cats.
I've prescribed a low ash,
high-protein diet
and you keep giving Georgette
free range over the buffet table.
No no, no MSG.
That's good,
but no MSG hardly matters
when she's gorging herself
on dim sum and moo shu pork.
Here, kitty-kitty. Meow.
Did we ask
for your opinion?
Whew, what a day.
No kidding, right?
Are you sure
you won't change your mind?
All work and no play
makes Lillian one dull, single,
urban professional female.
It's Friday.
We'll hit Martini Corner,
a little dinner and a little music,
a little dancing.
Sounds great,
but I think I'll pass.
Oh, shoot.
The folks from
the Free Rural Clinic called.
They lost their venue.
It's been called off.
I'm sorry, Lil. I know how you like
to get out there
with the livestock,
you know, up to your knees
in the muck
and the cow patties.
- I'll see you later.
- Yeah, thanks for a good day.
You too.
- Bye-bye, Vinny.
- Bye-bye.
Come on,
have some juice.
- Hello.
- Hey.
Well, hello, Vincent,
how's my bird?
- Hello.
- Bye-bye.
Contrary bird.
- What's in the box?
- Pigeon.
Oh! There are
eight million pigeons
- in the naked city.
- And this is one of them.
- The others didn't make it.
- When worlds collide?
Yeah, head on.
So this one here seems
to have already fledged.
So I was wanting to know
if you would keep it
quarantined here
until I can take it out to
Wildlife Care, you know, just in case.
Little blood work
might be prudent.
So what do you think?
Cody, it's not a baby pigeon.
It's a full-grown diamond dove.
It's Australian.
Well, that is a long way
to come to get gassed,
little fella.
See the ring
around his eye?
Yeah. Wow.
Yeah, wow is good.
Well, I would do it myself,
- but I've got...
- Your Belle.
My Belle.
I'd like to "wring" her.
How are things?
Oh, well, I'm pretty sure
I've slipped further down
that formidable scale
of expectation,
if that's at all possible.
How long's it been now,
two years?
Yeah, almost to the day.
A girl her age
should only have
happy anniversaries.
And you?
I don't have time
Translation
Translate and read this script in other languages:
Select another language:
- - Select -
- 简体中文 (Chinese - Simplified)
- 繁體中文 (Chinese - Traditional)
- Español (Spanish)
- Esperanto (Esperanto)
- 日本語 (Japanese)
- Português (Portuguese)
- Deutsch (German)
- العربية (Arabic)
- Français (French)
- Русский (Russian)
- ಕನ್ನಡ (Kannada)
- 한국어 (Korean)
- עברית (Hebrew)
- Gaeilge (Irish)
- Українська (Ukrainian)
- اردو (Urdu)
- Magyar (Hungarian)
- मानक हिन्दी (Hindi)
- Indonesia (Indonesian)
- Italiano (Italian)
- தமிழ் (Tamil)
- Türkçe (Turkish)
- తెలుగు (Telugu)
- ภาษาไทย (Thai)
- Tiếng Việt (Vietnamese)
- Čeština (Czech)
- Polski (Polish)
- Bahasa Indonesia (Indonesian)
- Românește (Romanian)
- Nederlands (Dutch)
- Ελληνικά (Greek)
- Latinum (Latin)
- Svenska (Swedish)
- Dansk (Danish)
- Suomi (Finnish)
- فارسی (Persian)
- ייִדיש (Yiddish)
- հայերեն (Armenian)
- Norsk (Norwegian)
- English (English)
Citation
Use the citation below to add this screenplay to your bibliography:
Style:MLAChicagoAPA
"All Roads Lead Home" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 25 Dec. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/all_roads_lead_home_2518>.
Discuss this script with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In