Billy Lynn's Long Halftime Walk Page #2

Yes, I'm excited. Yes.

Talk to your client. I'll do my thing.

Okay. Thanks. Bye.

Hey, guys. Good news. Hey.

- We got interest...

- Hey, listen up.

Hey,

we got interest from a major star.

Matt Damon?

- No.

- DiCaprio.

- No.

- Matt Damon?

I just said, "Matt Damon".

Hey. Hey, this may not be a name

that comes readily to mind

to you guys, but hear me out.

- Hear me out.

- All right.

Hilary Swank.

- Whoa.

- What?

She won an Oscar playing a guy

in Boys Don't Cry.

Well, she played a girl

pretending to be a guy.

We know who she is. Who she is.

Why is she interested in us?

Because she wants to play him.

Oh, man!

I know this may not

be the ideal choice,

but let me tell you something,

if she gets attached,

other stars hear about it

and they star':
sniffing around,

and next thing you know, Mark Wahlberg.

- Dirk Diggler. Hell, yeah.

- Yeah.

So, wait, wait, wait, wait.

Is she playing him as a girl,

or as a girl playing a guy?

If Hilary Swank gets on board,

this movie gets made.

- Which means you guys get paid.

- Yeah, how much?

Well, if we get a major star

and I'm just guessing,

so don't hold me to it,

maybe 100 grand each.

F*** you. We could make that much?

Means I got a lot of work getting it made,

and then everybody get paid,

but a lot of things got to happen.

Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey! Boys!

Hundred grand's a lot of money.

Sensible ideas on how to spend it?

I don't know. Probably help pay

down my sister's medical bills.

Oh, yeah. Word up, yo.

That's true. Family comes first, man.

Like I told my moms,

I'm gonna buy her a new car.

- Oh, f*** family.

- Yeah.

I'm getting myself

a top-of-the-line Sauer 202,

couple of vintage fly rods,

spend the next three years up in Montana

just huntin' and fishin'.

Hey, what the f***, Sykes!

- Get him down now.

- Sit down, boy! Park that...

Hey, hey, hey,

everything okay back there?

- Uh, it's all good, man.

- Yeah.

- Yeah, we're good.

- Hey, Josh. Nice hair.

Yeah, man, you're looking

all spiffy and crewed up.

Who's your stylist, Papi?

Hey, Josh, what can you tell us

about the halftime, bro?

Yeah, when can I get

my lap dance from Beyonc?

- Sykes, shut!

- Hey, Josh,

- do you know Norm, like, personally?

- You're full of sh*t, yo.

For God's sake. I'm just

trying to find out,

Josh, what's expected of us, bro.

Okay, well, there's no details yet,

but knowing Mr. Oglesby,

it's sure to be a real extravaganza.

Does this Hummer come with Advil?

Oh, no, I don't think so. I'm sorry. But...

But I'll be sure you get some

when we arrive, okay?

A musical?

Are you shittin' me? Larry...

Billy, what if you don't go back?

There are a ton of ways

you could get shipped home.

Or at least out of active duty.

I mean, you're a decorated hero, Billy.

You've done your part.

About more

than just blowing sh*t up.

Larry, Larry, my boys ship out in two days,

and access becomes

extremely problematic after that,

unless your lawyers

want to parachute into a war zone.

Well, come on, let's get this sh*t done.

Sarge, you want to stop here?

Are you trying to put me in shame?

I said slow

Don't go fast

Don't you think that love can last?

- Yeah!

- Yeah!

Good.

Let me guess. Just fell off a truck?

Says a boy brought it,

but doesn't know from where.

Mister! Mister!

Hello, my friend. You want big movie?

Which one you got here?

You want big movie? Mister!

Mister! Hello!

Hey, Crack,

they got Finding Nemo.

- I love this sh*t.

- Finding Nemo.

- How much?

- Sykes!

Aren't you a little old for that, soldier?

No, Sarge, it's for, uh...

It's for my daughter.

Life during wartime.

Okay, guys,

these are your seats right here.

Got you the best row in the house.

This is Mr. Oglesby's reserved section.

Make yourself at home.

You need anything, you let me know.

I think, uh... I think she likes you.

- Don't you f***ing lie to me.

- Hey. Stand down now,

or I'll have both of you

running laps around the stadium.

- Excuse me.

- Look at all these people.

What do you think they're thinking about?

Oh, heavy stuff.

God. Philosophy.

The meaning of life.

There it is.

You look good.

You are a sh*t liar.

Thank you.

Hey, the doctor said, uh,

and I'm quoting here,

my face is 87% healed.

And check it out.

It's two more operations,

and that is goodbye, Miss Frankenstein.

How about you?

You gettin' any?

None of your business.

Yeah, well, that's a big fat no.

So you've killed for your country

and you're still a virgin.

- If that's not a sign of how f***ed...

- So, how are things here?

Don't change the subject.

You better be out there gettin' some, boy.

Are you?

Um, guess.

Some nights I'm like,

whatever, maybe I'll just go

cruise the high school boys

and be like,

"Hey, bubba, take a ride with me.

"Once you've had a girl

with a scar on her face..."

So, how are things here?

I worry about you.

I can't stop worrying about you.

I feel so responsible.

I'm all right.

Your bad.

Thanks for getting me in this sh*t, Kat.

You know what I mean.

Billy, what the f*** are you doing?

Let's see what this bad boy can do.

I'm not getting an Article 15

because of you.

If they let us Texans all drive,

there'd be no need

for PT belts and safety briefs.

Just 'cause you were conceived in a truck

- doesn't mean you got to die in one.

- Watch this.

- Oh, sh*t.

- It could save your life someday.

- F***! Stop!

- Whoo!

Oh, sh*t!

Private Lynn, you are one delinquent punk!

No excuse, Sergeant.

That is correct, Private Lynn.

There is no excuse for your existence.

You got a long, glorious history

of being a sh*t-bag, don't you?

We heard all about your

criminal butt-fuckery in Texas.

But, Billy,

you're no longer in Texas.

So speak up!

Sergeant Breem, Sergeant Dime,

I'm just bustin' my ass tryin'

to be a credit to my platoon.

What in the world led you to believe

you could join the infantry?

You know, the Army needs

flute players, too.

I want to defend my homeland, Sergeant.

Bullshit. Keep running.

Hunt down terrorists.

Well, let us know when you find them.

Bring democracy to Iraq.

Lynn, your stupidity

is robbing this world of oxygen,

and I won't stand for it!

Get to the pull-up bars.

Private, did I say recover?

I did it for my sister.

Okay, drop.

Your sister?

Continue, Private Lynn.

My sister Kathryn,

sophomore year at college,

was driving home from work.

Heavy rain.

Big Mercedes goes into a spin,

broadsides her.

Car's totaled.

Fractured leg, pelvis.

A hundred and seventy stitches

below the neck, 63 above.

- Kat was this angel.

- You're creeping me out, Lynn.

I know how you Texas boys are

about your sisters.

Stay on point, Private.

My sister came this close to death.

And then her p*ssy-boy fianc dumps her?

In the hospital?

And what did you do?

Uh...

I sort of went and f***ed up his car.

Seems like Private Lynn

has an issue with vehicles.

What kind of car?

Brand-new Saab convertible

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