Angel-A
My name is Andre. Andre Moussa.
28 years old. Single. U.S. citizen.
Paris is a wonderful city, although I
don't really have the time to enjoy it.
Too much work...
I also do business in Argentina,
Chile... a bit in China.
Almost nothing in the U.S., actually.
Just my penthouse in N.Y.C.,
right above Central Park.
Let's focus on Paris...
I've made many friends here.
I used to think the French would
be angry about the Iraq war,
and this silly disagreement between our countries.
But it's not the case.
Maybe it's thanks to my behaviour.
I'm nice, generous...
I'm not too bad in bed.
Things are going well for me.
I think I can tell sincerely
that I am a nice guy.
Here you go. That's all
I can tell you about me.
Who I would like to be... would dream to be.
Because I'm lying.
To myself.
To everyone.
All day.
You really are an American piece of crap.
Do you believe we're going
to believe that story?
I'm not American. I told you...
I won my green card at the lottery.
They do that every year.
I'm from Morocco.
I don't like Arabs either!
Stop punching, damnit!
It's a misunderstanding.
I didn't have the time to explain.
Okay. You have 10 seconds.
Here you go.
If it wasn't for that, I would
have repaid you a long time ago.
And you don't have a credit card?
If I had a card, I would have gotten cash anywhere.
There's one of those banks
with the squirrel, right here.
Shut up!
Shut your mouth! When you open
it, it pisses me off even more.
No, you haven't understood.
Don't even say 'okay'.
Shut your mouth 100%.
You understand '100%'?
Don't say a single word.
Breathe. That's all.
Here you go. Good.
That must be tough.
For a f***ing American like you...
Shutting up.
You who always want to
teach lessons to the world.
No comment. Just shut up.
And quietly listen to
what I have to say.
Mamou... Do you remember
Monsieur Mamou?
You owe money to Monsieur Mamou.
40,000 Euros!
Not shitty Dollars... Euros!
And if you haven't
returned them by tonight.
I will find you, and break your fingers.
And if it's not enough,
I'll break your arms.
And your legs.
And your head.
I know that song... I like it.
You have until tonight.
And tonight ends at midnight.
After that, it's tomorrow.
And tomorrow, you'll be dead!
See you later.
Suddenly, two things had
become very clear to me.
I really had to do something.
And I definitely hated Paris.
Monsieur Frank!
Please... Monsieur Frank.
I don't really understand, Andre.
I welcome you in my home, as a
friend. Introduce you to people.
Lend you money when you're in need.
And what do I get in return?
I can explain!
Not a word. Not a phonecall.
And now you make me climb the
f***ing Eiffel tower to find you...
Do you really think I have
the time to be a tourist?
No, of course you're not
a tourist, Monsieur Frank.
I can explain... please!
Go ahead, I'm listening.
Can you ask this gentleman to
bring me back on the ground?
It would me more convenient...
I hear you just fine from here.
Hurry up, I'm running late.
I've lost my identification, my
passport and all my credit cards.
I went to the American Express offices.
Let go of him.
No, Frank! Please!
Don't let go!
Monsieur Frank!
Please!
Something to add?
Tonight.
I'm paying tonight.
On my mother's head!
I'm paying tonight.
Why should I care?
I don't know your mother.
I'm paying everything tonight.
On the whoever's head you want.
And how do you intend to do that?
You're broke, and indebted
to everybody in Paris.
I don't know. I don't know.
But I'm having a hard time thinking
I'm my current position.
You're aware that I have
men in every train station?
I know, Monsieur Frank.
So, don't try to run.
No.
That would be a very bad idea.
I give you until midnight.
Thank you, Monsieur Frank.
You have no idea how glad
I am to see you, Monsieur.
Good morning, sir.
Can I see your papers, please?
No, but don't worry, I'm American.
Did you block your credit cards?
Yes. All of them.
And now I can't get cash anymore.
It makes things rather difficult.
Life is so expensive in Paris...
I know...
But American Express can make
you a new card in 24 hours,
can't they?
Yes, but for that I need
to prove my identity.
And since I don't have
my papers anymore,
I can't prove my identity.
Ah, yes...
It's a vicious circle.
On top of that, it's Saturday.
All my friends have either gone
to the country or on holidays.
Baldwin alley, it's in Manhattan?
No. Brooklyn.
Number 720.5th floor.
You want the phone number?
No, it's okay.
I have it already.
Really?
You have this kind of
data in the computer?
Yes. I also have your
three condemnations.
Really?
Then it must have told you
that it's ancient history.
I was young...
The last one was three months ago.
Ah...
You have this one too?
That computer is powerful.
Did it tell you it was
a misunderstanding?
In the report, they call it a con job.
And you almost got
three months for it.
Yes. It's true.
And I intend to appeal when I return.
Monsieur Moussa, there is
not much we can do for you.
I suggest you go to the nearest police
station. And declare the theft.
They will give you temporary papers.
Listen, sir...
I am an American citizen.
I have rights. Written in a constitution.
For which my great-grandparents
have fought their entire lives.
I think I deserve my country's support.
Especially in such a
desperate situation.
Monsieur Moussa, your
grandparents lived in Algery.
So, maybe they fought
for independance...
But certainly not the
U.S. independance.
Keep in mind that the green
card you won at the lottery
requires that you obey some rules.
Rules written at the
back of the document
that you obviously did not bother reading.
It is clearly written that the American administration
can cancel your visa in case
of severe or repeated offense.
And in your case, you ostensibly
combine both criteria.
Now, let me give you a more
personal piece of advice.
I think that the only
person that can do anything
for you is... yourself.
Please exit the building quietly.
Or I am going to call the
marines in charge of security.
Hey, Andre!
Andre!
You've got my money, Andre?
Hey, Andre, come here!
You f***er!
Hi!
What are you here for?
Well, err...
I was thinking that... err...
I was intending to...
I can't take it anymore.
I'm at the end of the rope.
What's wrong, little fellow?
I f***ed up.
I have borrowed lots of money.
And my calculations
were slightly wrong.
Now I can't return
anything to these guys.
And if I don't do it
they're going to shoot me.
And you want to report them?
Nah... reporting them...
If I do that they're going
to shoot me even more.
What can I do for you, then?
I was thinking that... you...
Maybe you could put me in
jail for a few days...
Until I figure things out.
That's a joke for TV? Is that it?
No, it's not for TV.
Can't you see I'm about to crack?
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"Angel-A" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 25 Dec. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/angel-a_2861>.
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