Blade Runner Page #12

Deckard lights a cigarette.

The flake.

He's holding it on the tip of his finger under the

light of the console screen. He sits down, studying

it like Hamlet, contemplating Yorick's skull. But

for the HUM OF THE MACHINE, a long silence.

ESPER:

You're gonna have a fire if you

don't turn off the machine.

Absently, Deckard reaches out and flips it off. He

sits a while in the silent dark. Then goes into the

bathroom.

INT. SHOWER - NIGHT

Deckard stands in the shower, his cigarette still in

his mouth.

CUT TO:

EXT. NOODLE BAR - NIGHT

It might be 2:
00 a.m. but the joint is still crowded

as noisy taxi drivers jostle each other for seats and

jabber in Kangaroo, a crude lingual mix of Chinese,

Japanese, French and Tagalog.

Deckard is hunched over his bowl of noodles, slurping

hungrily from his busy chopsticks.

Whap! The counterman slaps a serving of fish heads on

the counter in front of a CHINESE sitting next to

Deckard.

Startled by the sound Deckard glances at the bowl of

fish heads, then turns his attention back to his

noodles.

But after two bites he frowns and turns to look at

the fish heads again.

The Chinese is eating the flesh hungrily from a head.

He cleans the skull and drops it on the plate.

Deckard stares at the heads with their blank stares

that seem to gaze at eternity.

Deckard is thinking.

The Chinese is eating.

Deckard frowns lost in furious thought. Suddenly he

reaches out and grabs a fish head.

The Chinese goes bug-eyed with indignation.

CHINESE:

(in Chinese)

What the hell are you doing, you

moronic ahng mo dim bulb? That's

my goddamn dinner you (in English)

dumb sh*t!

Deckard is peeling scales off the fish head. He grabs

his wallet, produces the flake and compares it to the

scales from the head. He ignores the ranting of the

Chinese as he stares at the flake next to the scales.

DECKARD:

Fish!

CHINESE:

(in Chinese)

What do you expect you get from

fish head, stupid?

(in English)

Elephant sh*t?

CUT TO:

EXT. ANIMAL ROW - NIGHT

An aquarium full of fish, weird looking fish, the

kind that might eat each other. They're gliding in

sinister clusters like Doberman pinschers with gills.

The CAMBODIAN LADY is a withered woman in black.

She's got a lens in her eye and she's looking at the

flake which is on the tip of her finger.

CAMBODIAN LADY:

Not fish! Snake !

And she points down the row.

Deckard looks that way and we.........

CUT TO:

MICROSCOPIC VIEW - NIGHT

We are looking at a huge enlargement of a snake scale

seen through a microscope.. but we don't know that.

It's just a grand abstract weirdness blurring and

sharpening and changing.

EGYPTIAN (OS)

The finest quality, yeeeeeeessssss.

Perfect workmanship.

Geniune artificial snake.

The flake becomes a landscape of forests and moon-

scapes. Buried deep in the texture of the thing is a

serial number.

EGYPTIAN (OS)

Serial Number 99069745xb7Y

That would indicate a Crotalus

Atrox......

CUT TO:

EXT. EGYPTIANS JOINT - NIGHT

We see the Egyptian for the first time as he takes

his eye from the viewer and points to a snake in one

of the many tanks that writhe with groggy reptiles.

EGYPTIAN:

(continuing)

... such as that one there with

the black and white ring on tail.

(making a whirring noise)

Western Diamon Back....

(whirr)

Rattler.

Deckard is looking at the ugly serpent.

The Egyptian hands the scale back to Deckard.

DECKARD:

Who made it ?

EGYPTIAN:

This quality... not too many.

DECKARD:

How many ?

EGYPTIAN:

Very few.

DECKARD:

How few ?

EGYPTIAN:

Perhaps less than I thought....

but still, more than I can remember.

DECKARD:

What helps you to remember ?

The Egyptian pushes a hand out in front of him, revolving

the thumb slowly against the next two fingers.

Deckard slips a card out of his pocket and into the

man's fingers. It's a police card. It gets a super-

cilious smile, a sigh and a shrug. And that's all

it gets. The man knows his rights. The card is

handed back. The smile remains.

EGYPTIAN:

What was the question again?

DECKARD:

The question is...

Deckard steps in closer.

DECKARD:

Are you a citizen?

EGYPTIAN:

Yes.

DECKARD:

Naturalized?

EGYPTIAN:

Yes.

DECKARD:

Your papers are in order.

EGYPTIAN:

Of course.

This guy's got it covered.

DECKARD:

You have a license for this

establishment?

He points it out with a righteous finger.

DECKARD:

Fire permit?

EGYPTIAN:

Right here.

He lifts it out of a drawer, displays it. A long

pause. The Egyptian smiles smugly. It pays to have

things covered. Deckard pushes closer.

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