Chapter & Verse
1
(siren wailing)
My name is S. Lance Ingram.
They used to call me "L."
Or Crazy L from 118th.
Check these streets.
Check with your crew
in the joint.
Find out who I am.
(music playing)
(drums playing)
Man:
Wait for it.
A lot of our calls are for
upsizing Cisco crossovers.
Yeah.
You know, walk me
through it once, I'm good.
Okay, great, thanks.
We'll get back to you.
You have to fill out
the application online.
Once we check your background
and your references,
then we'll call you
for an interview.
- No jobs, no jobs.
- I'll work the first week
for free.
- Go away.
- No harm, no foul.
- Check it, I'm good.
- Hey, hey. Don't touch
anything.
Come on, man.
Give me a chance.
- Yes, police.
- All right. All right,
I'm leaving.
(drums playing)
Enjoy the rest of your day.
Thank you. Appreciate it.
How are you doing, sir?
Little change,
dollar, smile,
a thumbs up,
high-five.
Anything.
Thank you, ladies and gentlemen.
Have a great day.
You've been
a wonderful audience.
Man:
When I call your name,I don't care where
you are in line,
just step forward.
John Hand.
Man #2:
All that DNA bullshit.
I liked it better
in the old days when they
gave you a cup to piss in.
Keep it down, folks.
Gulp down a half
a bottle of vinegar,
your sh*t will still
come out clean.
Man:
Ingram.Print it
and sign it.
- Find a job?
- Not yet.
- It's been four weeks.
- I've been out there every day.
By rights, I should
put you on a van back
Go there. 9:
00 a.m.Supervisor's name
is Yolanda Reyson.
A food pantry?
Come on, Mr. Morris,
they had me working
in a mess hall
in the joint
for eight years.
- Then you should be good to go.
- I got two computer
certificates.
I took piano lessons.
You don't see my ass
up in Carnegie Hall.
Be there 8:
45,or I'll cuff you
on the prison van.
Fellas, curfew's at 9:00 p.m.
At 9:
05, I lock the doorand you're violated.
Have a good one.
- (chatter in distance)
- (ball bouncing)
Go, go, go, go.
All right, go ahead.
Go, go, go.
All right, these pies,
they should be sliced
and put in trays.
Come on. Let's go.
We should've been
prepping for dinner already.
What's going on over here, huh?
Excuse me.
Half the clients
you make this delivery.
Cohen, you better wake up.
You back on drugs?
Just what the clinic
gives me for my nerves.
Mm-hmm.
Santiago's out with the flu.
- And you are high
on tranquilizers.
- I'm fine.
All right, you know what?
Follow me.
Move it.
Okay, you're gonna
take the keys to
van number two
and you are gonna
handle this route.
- I needs to be out by two.
Let's go.
- I can't drive.
Oh, my goodness.
Okay, do you know
how to run a straight line?
- Yeah.
- Okay.
Then run your butt to the subway
and make the deliveries.
Make the deliveries.
(music playing)
Woman:
I know we didn't discuss
Harlem as a possible local,
but this is such
an up-and-coming--
- It's the hottest new area.
- No, no, no.
- I've heard that.
- And I love this building.
- Woman #2:
Wow.- Woman:
Beautiful views- of both Harlem
and Central Park.
- Man:
Nice.There's a rooftop garden
and a garden in the back.
- Man:
Yeah?- 1.2 million.
- Lovely.
- All right. That's great, Faye.
- This is so nice for Harlem.
- Faye?
Faye:
Everything elsearound here has been
going for much more,
so you're gonna save
yourself a lot of money.
(music playing)
(chatter, laughter)
- I think they play tonight.
- Yo, I got five on it.
Nah, nigga,
I'm talking 30.
- All right, 30, bet.
- You got 30 on it?
- 30.
- Bet on Gunners, nigga.
- All right.
I wanna see the look
on your face when them niggas
lose in the first round.
- Hey, yo, you got that hook?
- Yeah.
- Give it to Ty.
- All right.
Come here, son.
Come here, Ty.
That's you
over there.
I'll talk about it later.
Hold up, hold up.
Grab that nigga's
iPhone, too.
You heard?
Go do that.
- Man, f*** that!
- Yo. What up?
What the f*** you mean,
"what's up"?
Where the f*** you going, nigga?
Tag this motherf***er.
Hit him again!
- Let him know what's up!
- Ah!
Get him on everything!
- Come on, nigga.
- Yeah, Gunner sh*t, b*tch.
- (door opens)
- Let me see some I.D.
- You're blind.
- Are you deaf?
- It got a picture?
- Yes.
- Whose?
- Mine.
Okay, then.
This is Harlem,
you can't be too safe.
22. 23.
Yo, that was 25, son.
Where you learn
how to count, my nigga?
Man, I learned how to count
the same place as you, nigga.
That's not--
I'll show you what I got.
- Yeah, I can
get up there, nigga.
- (laughing)
- A'ight, one, two.
- (grunting)
- All the way up,
all the way down.
- Three.
What's up?
Yo, you up
there, Rodney.
Where the money at?
Where the money?
(chattering)
Excuse me.
Move your ass
out the way.
(doorbell rings)
Hello?
Hello?
Food delivery.
Bread from the Heart.
(sighs)
Ty?
Get your crackhead ass
out of my house!
Police!
Don't make me get my gun.
I'm delivering
your dinner, ma'am.
Bread from the Heart.
Well, you don't knock?
You just walk up in
people's houses?
- I don't know you.
- I did knock.
The door--
the door was wide open.
I keep telling that boy
to close that door.
- Where's Santiago?
- Santiago out sick.
I just-- I just
need you to sign
the delivery paper, ma'am.
Just get--
They put cabbage
on this plate?
That was the menu.
Y'all know I'm allergic
to cabbage.
What the hell
is wrong with you?
Bringing all this nasty food
up in my house.
- You out your damn mind.
- No, you out your damn mind.
- Crazy-ass woman.
- Get your ass out of here.
- Crazy woman.
- You just go ahead and leave!
(chattering)
Ingram.
Been looking for you.
My office.
Eh, it just shutdown on me.
- That's all?
- That's all.
I gotta get my monthly
report out tonight.
Dime.
Paperclip.
Circuit board is loose.
(computer chimes)
This will hold for a while,
but you need to upgrade.
You really know
how to fix these things.
All right. Okay.
I'll come in.
- Hey, man,
I gotta get on that...
- You out of here?
Okay, Cohan, why don't you take
Santiago's route?
I'll go.
You need to be
scrubbing pots and utensils.
I'll do that, too.
(doorbell rings)
(woman humming, gasps)
What do you want?
No salt. No cabbage.
I made the plate myself.
(sighs)
Come on in.
(music playing on TV)
(man talking on TV)
- Thank you.
- So, what you go to jail for?
The only people that
deliver around here
are junkies or convicts,
and you got too many
muscles to be on drugs.
Got locked up
for being stupid.
How much time
they give you for that?
12 years.
Did eight.
- Those are
my grandson's drawings.
- They pretty good.
They gave him an art prize
at his school.
Oh, and that's on
my granddaddy's farm,
down in South Carolina.
Oh, wait.
Let me show you this.
The Showman's Lounge.
Translation
Translate and read this script in other languages:
Select another language:
- - Select -
- 简体中文 (Chinese - Simplified)
- 繁體中文 (Chinese - Traditional)
- Español (Spanish)
- Esperanto (Esperanto)
- 日本語 (Japanese)
- Português (Portuguese)
- Deutsch (German)
- العربية (Arabic)
- Français (French)
- Русский (Russian)
- ಕನ್ನಡ (Kannada)
- 한국어 (Korean)
- עברית (Hebrew)
- Gaeilge (Irish)
- Українська (Ukrainian)
- اردو (Urdu)
- Magyar (Hungarian)
- मानक हिन्दी (Hindi)
- Indonesia (Indonesian)
- Italiano (Italian)
- தமிழ் (Tamil)
- Türkçe (Turkish)
- తెలుగు (Telugu)
- ภาษาไทย (Thai)
- Tiếng Việt (Vietnamese)
- Čeština (Czech)
- Polski (Polish)
- Bahasa Indonesia (Indonesian)
- Românește (Romanian)
- Nederlands (Dutch)
- Ελληνικά (Greek)
- Latinum (Latin)
- Svenska (Swedish)
- Dansk (Danish)
- Suomi (Finnish)
- فارسی (Persian)
- ייִדיש (Yiddish)
- հայերեն (Armenian)
- Norsk (Norwegian)
- English (English)
Citation
Use the citation below to add this screenplay to your bibliography:
Style:MLAChicagoAPA
"Chapter & Verse" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 21 Nov. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/chapter_%2526_verse_5308>.
Discuss this script with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In