An Ordinary Man Page #2

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save us both some time, go on.

"As key members of the

European Union prepare together,

and international

pressure mounts..."

Ugh, this is reading?

Come on, with inflection,

give it some life.

"Government officials

today conceded that

the country's effort to join

the European Union had been

hampered by the failure

to capture and deliver

into custody General..."

Oh, can't they use a

different photo, please?

"Indicted for war crimes

and crimes against humanity

by a Hague tribunal in

connection with the massacre

of thousands of

fighting-age men and boys

in the closing days of

the war under his command.

Government officials

continue to reassure

the international community

that every effort

is being made to ascertain

the whereabouts

of the fugitive military leader

whom they insist

- must be well hidden."

- Ha!

Hello, hello!

F***ing cowards can't stand up

on their own two feet.

Look at me.

Look how well hidden.

As if they're not paying

for all this themselves.

"The United States

this week officially

raised its offer

to $10 million U.S.

for any parties assisting

in the location

and capture of the general."

They'll all be out now,

cockroaches.

"Widely reviled by

the international community,

though still considered a hero

by some of his own countrymen.

Government leaders,

while acknowledging

the country's deepening

economic isolation,

refuse to speculate

as to a date

when the general's capture

and arrest might be expected."

Yeah, let them check

their calendars.

That should take

a f***ing year or so.

God forbid they should ever

have to make a decision.

What is this country of yours?

A thousand curtseys. Here's some

allowance, now go to your room.

Is that it?

After all of this?

You say nothing.

A generation of young people,

saying nothing.

All right, then you are

my silent witness.

Witness this:

I will never hide.

And I will never be taken.

Lesson two:
we cook.

[music on radio]

[music gets louder]

Go, maid.

[chuckles]

The peasant's feast,

four centuries of

life and culture,

distilled into one dish.

My dying day,

I shall eat this meal,

taste my home,

and be done.

How will you ever make

a suitable bride?

What makes you assume

I'll do the cooking?

And how do you know

I'm not already married?

I've seen your hands.

I'll never wear a ring.

Not dressed like that,

you won't.

What's wrong with this?

Nothing that can't be fixed.

So this life of yours,

these 26 lengthy years,

the highlights, please.

First chapter:

you were born, of course.

Where?

Here.

City?

City girl, of course.

And your parents?

From where do they hail?

- Same.

- City folks as well.

Now, that's convenient.

And their families?

Surely your people

come from somewhere,

a village with

their name on it?

- I never knew my grandparents.

- Really?

And your parents, you say?

I told you.

Yes, yes, you did. Ah.

How did they perish?

Car accident.

Together?

How unfortunate.

And I must say, bit unusual.

- How so?

- Well, we're not the worst drivers here.

A crack-up here and there, after

the bars close, yes, of course.

But both of them,

just like that?

That's catastrophic.

Leaving you all alone.

At what age?

- Seventeen.

- Of course.

Old enough

to fend for yourself.

Independence.

And school, why aren't

you in school?

My parents died.

Money, yes, of course,

always money.

And so we witness

the birth of a maid.

And friends.

- No friends?

- No time.

Mrs. Boscovich, no doubt,

slave-driving b*tch.

And boys.

There must be boys,

ripe specimen like yourself.

No boys, no friends, no family.

Tanja, my silent maid,

I'm afraid you are

as invisible as I am.

We're ghosts.

Lesson three.

Lesson four.

Five, please.

Very good.

Very good, maid.

Lesson six.

Six is the dog's bollocks.

Six is the sport of kings.

[belches]

Six will show what

you're really made of,

your fire,

your quality of mercy.

Never met a military man

who didn't like the game.

Napoleon himself loved playing

simultaneous games

with his marshals.

And who do you think won,

and he was just a short f***.

You are much taller

than Napoleon.

Come on, I even made

my enemies play,

and they respected me for it.

I know, you're thinking,

you're thinking, well, sure,

f***ers let you win,

otherwise you'd shoot them.

Not true, not true.

Play to win, yes,

but I respect my opponents,

even those blue-hat NATO fucks,

God love 'em.

So friend or foe,

you take me on.

- Take me on, damn it.

- I can't.

- What?

- I don't know how to play.

- Try.

- I can't.

Fight, damn it!

Worthless, worthless, you are.

Go!

If you won't fight, go.

What, are you deaf as well?

Go.

- What, you'd let me?

- Let you?

Are you a f***ing hostage?

Haven't you read?

I don't take hostages.

Go, out of my sight!

But I expect you back, maid.

You're mine now.

Worthless, but mine.

[door slams]

[music from radio]

[man on radio]

Music from the Native Suns,

guests of tomorrow evening's

Dance of Traditions

at Baron's Hall.

Doors open at 7:
00.

[ping pong ball bouncing]

[train squeals]

[music on radio]

[frying pan sizzling]

You really can't cook,

can you?

[laughs]

It's f***ing dreadful.

Hm.

Good morning.

You'll need that.

So, which of us is

the most surprised?

What choice did I have?

You kidnapped Mrs. Boscovich.

And I assume

you pay in cash?

Last night...

You didn't ask

one question, not one.

I know a thousand journalists

would cut off

their right testicle just

for the chance, both, in fact.

Yet you...

So this is the state

of youth today,

complete disinterest?

Or is it fear?

Are you afraid of me?

- It's really none of my concern.

- My actions?

And yet, aren't you

the least bit curious?

Not in the slightest?

Is he, in fact, the devil?

It's none of my concern.

No questions.

No judgment.

I don't know

if I believe you.

You see, I...

I've no such luxury.

I'm old,

and I do have questions.

I want answers, maid.

Show me your life.

You've seen mine

in all its glory.

Your turn.

The life of a city girl.

Today, I am your pupil.

[slow piano music]

[chattering]

God, were we ever

so unappealing?

Which one were you,

where is Tanja in this mix?

Nowhere. I hid.

Empty classrooms, second floor,

mostly, until lunch was over.

- Hid?

- With a book.

Why?

What, you blind?

Look at them.

Hid, every day?

That's a lot of books.

You were smart.

Too smart.

Why do you think I hid?

And where was history made?

Where did we

kiss our first boy?

He kissed me,

over by the fountain.

Drawn out of hiding,

were we?

Mm, tactical error.

I was thirsty.

He never made

that mistake again.

What was his name?

Mr. Antonovich.

The librarian.

- Pigs.

- Yes, you are.

Surely other kisses

have followed.

We're not all

perverted librarians.

No?

You've never had a boyfriend,

have you, maid?

Define "boyfriend."

Someone you share a meal

with between f***ing.

At 26...

Oh, we do have to get to the

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