Bonnie and Clyde Page #9

42.

BUCK:

(like two kids

keeping a secret from Mom)

Don't say nothin' to Blanche about

it.

CLYDE:

Hey, that time you broke out of

jail, she talk you into goin' back?

BUCK:

(it is obvious he had

hoped Clyde hadn't

known about it)

Yeah, you hear about that?

CLYDE:

I won't say nothin' to Bonnie about

it.

BUCK:

I appreciate it.

CLYDE:

Yeah...say, what d'ya think of

Bonnie?

BUCK:

She's a real peach.

There is now a long pause--a lull in the conversation, as if

they asked each other all the questions and are now out of

things to say. It is too much for BUCK, the natural enemy

of silence, who suddenly claps his hands together and bursts

out animatedly:

BUCK:

Boy, are we gonna have us a good

time!

CLYDE:

(matching his merriment)

We surely are!

BUCK:

Yessir!

(a pause, then:
)

What are we gonna do?

CLYDE:

Well, how's this--I thought we'd

all go to Missouri. They ain't

lookin' for me there. We'll hole

up someplace and have us a regular

vacation. All right?

43.

BUCK:

No trouble, now?

CLYDE:

No trouble. I ain't lookin' to go

back to prison.

BUCK:

Hey, what's this I hear about you

cuttin' up your toes, boy?

CLYDE:

(ironically)

That ain't but half of it. I did

it so I could get off work detail-breakin'

those damned rocks with a

hammer day and night. Sure enough,

next week I got paroled. I walked

out of that god-forsaken jail on

crutches.

BUCK:

Shoot-

CLYDE:

Ain't life grand?

EXT. ROAD. DAY.

We see the two cars, one behind the other, driving down a

main road.

INT. FIRST CAR. DAY.

CLYDE is driving. BUCK sits next to him. No one else is in

the car.

BUCK:

And the doc, he takes him aside,

says, "Son, your old mama just

gettin' weak and sickly layin'

there. I want you to persuade her

to take a little Brandy, y'know, to

pick her spirits up." "Why, doc,"

he says, "you know my mamma is a

teetotaler. She wouldn't touch a

drop." "Well, I tell you what," the

doc says, "why don't you bring her

a fresh quart of milk every day

from your farm, 'cept you fix it up

so half of it's Brandy and don't

let on!" So he does that, doctors

it up with Brandy, and his mamma

drinks some of it.

(MORE)

44.

BUCK (CONT'D)

And the next day he brings it again

and she drinks some more--and she

keeps it up every day. Finally,

one week later, he brings her the

milk and don't you know she just

shallows it all down, and looks at

her bag and says, "Son, whatever

you do, don't sell that cow!"

CLYDE and BUCK explode in laughter.

INT. SECOND CAR. DAY.

At the top of the laugh, cut to the int. of the second car,

riding right in back of them. The atmosphere is completely

unlike the cozy and jolly scene preceding. We have dead

silence. BONNIE is driving, smoking a cigarette, grim.

BLANCHE--seated as far away as she can get from BONNIE

without falling out of the car--makes a face at the cigarette

smoke, rolls down the window for air. C.W.'s in the back

seat, just staring.

CUT TO:

EXT. GARAGE APARTMENT. DAY.

A residential street in Joplin, Missouri, showing a garage

apartment above a double garage. Camera sees BUCK talking

to a dapper gent with keys in his hand. BUCK pays him. The

man tips his hat and walks off. BUCK gestures and Clyde

drives a car into the driveway. C.W. follows, driving

BUCK's car with BLANCHE. CLYDE stops beside BUCK. BUCK

leans into CLYDE's car and says:

BUCK:

I give him a month's rent in

advance. We're all set. Let's get

inside.

CLYDE calls back to C.W. in the following car.

CLYDE:

Pull up and unload the stuff.

BUCK:

(on the running board

of moving car)

Honey-love, I'm taking you into our

first home.

BLANCHE giggles. The two cars pull up before the garage and

the people start to descend.

45.

INT. GARAGE APARTMENT. DAY.

A winded BUCK enters and puts down BLANCHE. As others

behind him carry in their things and disperse throughout

apartment.

BLANCHE:

Oh look, it's so clean, Buck. And

a Frigidaire...not an icebox!

BUCK:

He give me the grocery number.

He goes to the phone.

BUCK:

(continuing)

Lemme see, eh 4337...Operator...

please ma'm, may I have 4337...if

you please?

BLANCHE:

Oh...they got linoleum on the

counter. Ain't that clever!

BUCK:

Hello, Smitty's grocery...I'd like

to order a mess of groceries. Oh

yeah...eh 143 Hillsdale Street.

Lessee, about 8 pounds of porkchops,

4 pounds of red beans...a can of

Chase and Sandborn...uh.

BLANCHE:

Oh, isn't this something, Daddy!

BUCK:

Sshh. Uh...quart of milk...uh 8

bottles of Dr. Pepper and that's

it, I guess. No...no. Uh...a box

of Rice Krispies...Bye now.

CUT TO:

INT. LIVING ROOM. DAY.

Open on BONNIE and CLYDE. He is cleaning guns. She is

watching something off screen. We hear a clicking sound.

BLANCHE (O.S.)

My, you need a haircut, Daddy. You

look like a hillbilly boy.

46.

A look of disgust crosses BONNIE's face. CLYDE, who has

been watching her, smiles. The clicking sound increases

suddenly.

BUCK (O.S.)

Gotcha!

BLANCHE whoops. Camera cuts to see that BUCK and C.W. are

playing checkers and BUCK has just beaten him.

C.W.

Again.

BUCK:

Boy, you ain't never gonna beat me

but you keep tryin' now.

He starts to set up the game again.

BLANCHE:

Jest like an ol' man. Plays

checkers all the time and doesn't

pay any attention to his poor

lonely wife.

She ruffles his hair again.

BUCK:

Cut it out now, honey. I'm gonna

teach this boy a lesson he'll never

forget.

Camera cuts to BONNIE, watching with disgust. Then slowly,

a wicked little smile edges across her face. She watches

for a moment more, then she rises and with the most ingenuous

look she can muster up, beckons to CLYDE to follow her into

the bedroom. A little puzzled, CLYDE follows.

INT. BEDROOM.

BONNIE closes the door and immediately begins fussing with

CLYDE's hair, doing a scathing imitation of BLANCHE. Though

her miming expresses her irritation at being closeted with

the Barrow menage, it is also a peach doing an imitation of

a lemon--and it is disarmingly sensual... Indeed the mimicry

allows BONNIE to be physically freer with CLYDE, and allows

CLYDE to respond without anxiety, without self-consciousness.

We should have the distinct--if momentary--feeling that

CLYDE could suddenly make it with BONNIE.

47.

BONNIE:

(doing an unmerciful imitation)

Oh, Daddy, you shore need a haircut.

You look just like a little old

hillbilly boy, I do declare.

(she has her other

hand toying with the

buttons on his shirt,

her hand slipping

under, fluttering

across his bare chest)

Oh mercy me, oh my stars!

CLYDE laughs, and BONNIE tugs at the shirt--she kneels on

the bed over CLYDE, who quite easily drapes across it.

BONNIE:

(a little louder)

Oh, Daddy! Yore such a slowpoke!

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