Bullet Head

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1

[heavy breathing]

[thunder rumbles]

[rain patters]

[truck beeps]

[heavy breathing]

[animal snarls]

[footsteps]

[panting]

MAN 1:

Come here.

Yeah.

Good boy.

MAN 2:

Evening, sir.

[metal door sliding closed]

[machinery rumbling]

[animal panting]

[crowd shouting]

MAN 1:

Watch me.

Watch him.

[crowd cheering and shouting]

AUDIENCE MEMBER:

Just do it! Kill him!

MAN 1:

We're the competition.

PIT WORKER:

Good evening, sir.

[barking]

[dog growling]

Sit.

[dogs barking]

PIT BOSS:

Release your dogs!

[dogs snarling]

[police sirens wail distantly]

MAN:

Eddie...huh? Hey.

[car horn blares]

[men shouting]

[loud crash]

Eddie.

Yo.

Eddie.

I don't think

he's listening.

Eddie?

Why don't I hold onto that

for you.

Whole precinct's out there.

But they're looking

for four guys in a Cadillac.

We can split up the money,

just go solo on foot.

You got a 200-pound mag drill

in your back pocket

you been holding

and not telling us about?

The car is hidden from the

street unless they get close,

but we're sitting ducks

down here if they do.

[metal creaking]

Municipal storage facility.

Anyone with a car

owe you a favor?

Short notice,

short money?

Not in my Rolodex.

GAGE:

What the f***'s a Rolodex?

Don't talk for a while, okay?

Watch yourself.

A lot further to fall.

STACY:

Car troubles.

Yeah.

Wild card came up a deuce.

Take us a day

to crack it.

I can make you whole then.

Right. Right.

What'd he say?

He said we're

all over the news.

Told us we're on our own

till nightfall at best,

and that he'd need

at least 50% hazard pay

to think about

sticking his neck out.

He said, "Call back

an hour before sundown."

He'll know if he can send a van,

if it's cooled off by then.

F***ing sundown?

What?

You stupid

piece of sh*t.

No one told me

there was alarms.

Yeah, that wouldn't

have mattered

if you stuck

with the f***ing safe

instead of making a detour

to the pharmacy section

on your own initiative.

I saw an in,

I took it.

Look, I can-- I can flip dope.

That's good loot.

You f***ed us!

No. We should have

had pieces.

Pieces? This was a soft in,

soft out.

This is no guns needed.

This is candy from a baby.

You going

to shoot a cop?

I don't know

who I'm going to shoot.

You watch that.

Look, we got the safe

and we got out.

That's a f***ing score.

Oh, yeah. Why don't you

tell that

to our wheelman's wife?

I'm sure she'll be

very proud of us.

Maybe you give her a couple

hundred from your cut

for the casket.

Yeah, I-- I didn't need

to bring you in.

To your low-rent

box store job? Huh?

We'll be lucky if we pull

30K from this sh*t-show.

If you even give us a chance

to f***ing crack this safe.

Thanks for the lead, ace.

F*** you.

F***, you're stupider

than your f***ing cousin.

Morons.

What?

What the f***?

He's sick.

Christ.

What the f***

would you know?

Son, I've spilled more dope

than you'll ever live to shoot.

Look, I...

I just didn't have my wake-up

this morning, all right?

So you figured you'd nab one

while we were on the clock?

Just let me get well.

All right?

Come on, man.

It's...

WALKER:

Your show.

I should let you

f***ing sweat it.

It's the small bottle.

It's yellow powder.

Yeah.

[drops bag]

They got a sink

in here?

WALKER:
Have we been here

longer than you have?

Yeah, whatever.

Stay away from

the street-side windows.

And don't go

the f*** outside.

Ah, f...

[panting]

You said this was

going to be easy.

Come on.

Almost there.

[traffic ambience,

cars passing distantly]

STACY:

Sometimes I pretend

the sounds of cars passing by

are waves on some little black

sand beach, far away from here.

GRACE:

You don't have to pretend.

[echoing]:

Let's fly away.

[helicopter flying overhead]

I f***ed up.

Taking down rinky-dink scores

with punks that can't keep their

hands out of the cookie jar

long enough to finish

the main course?

I dropped the ball, Walker.

I'm sorry.

WALKER:

I've seen this.

Guys gets shaken up, you know,

partner dies,

their kid gets sick.

Maybe their wife

balls someone else,

and they start making

their own chaos.

Walker...

There are only three kinds

of last score, Stacy.

The kind where you serve life,

the kind where

you're served a bullet,

and the kind--

The kind where you walk away.

Man's got to know

what he is.

Yeah?

What are you?

You know, I did this score

when my kid was little.

Christmas Eve,

I couldn't have been, what, 25?

Pet shop job.

I knew this guy,

he was the manager.

Says there's going

to be 5 grand in the safe.

I guess these places

do good on holidays.

You know, what with the kittens

and bunnies, and all that.

I'm counting on this score

to put something under the tree

for my little girl, so I go,

you know, I crack this safe.

It's a four-number,

mechanical combo.

Eyes and ears only.

I am so proud of myself.

I pull this thing open...

There's nothing.

Not a note.

Turns out this manager's

a f***ing degenerate

like everybody else,

and he's already dropped

all the money it at the track.

[door closes]

Remember, my little girl

has been listening

for sleigh bells all week,

so I go looking for

a bunny or a cat to get her.

But all they got left

is puppies and fish.

So I find this fish.

Tropical one.

Beautiful.

Bright yellow.

Different than the others.

Perfect.

I grab the whole tank.

Must've weighed 60 pounds,

cord hanging off the back.

And I'm about to take off.

And I stop and think,

"Am I really about

to walk out of a job

with one goddamned fish?"

So I go fishing.

Long shrimp-looking ones,

leopard-type guys,

big old black ones

with those big bubble eyes.

Just dropping them in the tank

with Yellow.

I'm pretty happy

how this worked out, you know?

I never would've come up

with this on my own.

It would've been a teddy bear,

or a doll if I was

really flush.

But this,

this is inspired.

So I slip in, I set up this

tank right under the tree,

because I just got to see

the look on my daughter's face

when she sees this.

But lugging that aquarium

around is hard work.

I'm out as soon

as I hit the chair.

Then I wake up,

and there's this screaming.

Nothing like that sound.

Sound of your own kid,

just screaming.

[girl screams]

All these fish are dead.

All bloated up

like some East River dump job.

All except

that yellow tropical.

Turns out that freshwater fish

don't make it in the salt.

Me, I'm a freshwater fish.

I know I'm in

the right tank.

Maybe we should go check on

that kid before he, you know,

takes a selfie

up on the roof.

Posts it to Instagram.

F*** you.

Testost-- F***.

[heavy breathing and snarling]

[footsteps]

[dog whining]

[chains rattle]

[doors creak]

[door closes]

Shame.

He's finished.

I'll handle it.

We'll be back

for the count.

[dog whines]

Come on.

[chains rattle]

[thunder crashes]

Up.

Stay.

[footsteps]

[water lapping]

[metallic click]

[electricity powering up]

[electricity crackles]

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