Con Air Page #2

- What's your name?

- Odell. They didn't give me my shot last night.

Okay, you're diabetic? All right, your insulin's

on board. We'll give it to you in flight.

- Cameron Poe.

- Yes, ma'am.

You know you're still under full

restraints till you're processed...

and released from your original

prison, understand?

Yes, ma'am. As long as I make it home

on time, it makes no never mind.

- It's my daughter's birthday.

- Well, congratulations.

I got locked down three months before

she was born. She ain't never seen me.

- And why not?

- No way was she gonna meet her daddy...

in a prison visitor room

surrounded by homemade cookies and...

and love-starved murderers.

- No way.

- What you got here is a walking, talking reason to rehabilitate.

So today let's exemplify

our three operative words:

firm, fair and vigilant.

Now, let's go to work.

We off-load six in Carson City,

the rest are sheeted to Feltham.

Good. Let's go deal

with the DEA boys.

- You know this guy?

- Haven't had the pleasure.

He's a piece of work,

a real piece of work.

Duncan, good to see you.

She sure is beautiful.

Hey, beautiful? Sunsets are beautiful.

Newborn babies are beautiful.

This, this is

f***ing spectacular!

Duncan, this is Vince Larkin.

He's overseeing the transpo.

Vince,

Duncan Malloy, DEA.

Nice to meet ya. I'm sure we're gonna

have a good time working on this together.

- Hey, Willie. - Boys! - How

ya doin'? - What's up, Chief?

- You know each other? - Vince Larkin.

- Sims, DEA. Good to meet you, Larkin.

This is our file on your man,

Francisco Cindino, son of Eduardo...

prime mover of narcotics

from Colombia.

It's gonna be

an all-star flight.

This kid's a potential fountain of

information about the family business.

- Eleven and a half okay?

- Yeah.

Look at him.

Nice college boy, right?

We interrogated him for months.

He gave up nothing.

This is our last chance

before the FBl gets him.

Over my dead body

those a**holes get the glory.

We pick up Mr Cindino

in Carson City.

From then until the plane hits Alabama,

we've got two hours to get him to talk.

We got you a seat right next

to him, and he's known to be...

somewhat garrulous

in the company of thieves.

Garrulous?

What the f*** is garrulous?

That would be loquacious, verbose,

effusive. How about "chatty"?

What's with dictionary boy,

here?

Thesaurus boy, I think,

is more appropriate.

- You got your gun?

- Yeah.

- Whoa, whoa. Gun?

- We got rules, gentlemen.

- Yeah. So do we. Our agents go armed.

- No one carries on this flight.

I've got a small arsenal

in the belly of the plane.

A pistol in the cockpit

lockbox. That's it.

Other than that, we keep

the plane like a prison.

No weapon

on the aircraft, period.

My man does not get on

that plane without his gun.

Then your man

doesn't get on the plane.

Okay, Willie,

give it to him.

Give him the gun.

- Avoid eye contact.

- I got it.

- In the pen, it's a sign of aggression.

- Larkin, I got it.

Okay.

Foxtrot Charlie,

we are ready to disembark.

Waiting your go

on separatee transfer.

Well, we told you today's flight

would be special.

- That's William Bedford, aka "Billy Bedlam. "

- The mass murderer?

The same. He caught his wife in bed

with another man. Left her alone.

Drove four towns over

to his wife's family's house.

Killed her parents, her brothers, her

sisters, even her dog.

Scan him.

And who is that

good-looking brother on screen?

Nathan Jones,

aka "Diamond Dog. "

Former general of

the Black Guerrillas.

He blew up a meeting of the National

Rifle Association saying...

and I quote, "They represented the

basest negativity of the white race. "

He wrote a book in prison called

Reflections In A Diamond Eye.

New York Times called it "A wake-up

call for the black community. "

They're talking to Denzel

for the movie.

Close door number one.

This one's done it all.

Kidnapping...

robbery, murder,

extortion.

Foxtrot Charlie, perimeter is secured.

You are cleared to release.

His name is Cyrus Grissom,

aka "Cyrus the Virus. "

Thirty-nine years old,

But he's bettered himself inside. Earned

two degrees, including his Juris Doctor.

He also killed 11 fellow inmates,

incited three riots and escaped twice.

Likes to brag that he killed

more men than cancer.

Okay, open wide.

Lift your tongue.

Cyrus is a poster child for the criminally

insane. He's a true product of the system.

What's that supposed to mean? Uh, what

is he, one of these sociology majors...

who thinks we're responsible

for breeding these animals?

No, but I could point a few fingers

if it would make you feel comfortable.

Ah, look at this walking penis.

Boy, you are one skinny Negro.

- Easy man. Sh*t.

- Open up.

Oh, man, it smells like

somebody sh*t in your mouth.

He told me he loved me.

- Get out of my face.

- All right, all right. Sh*t.

- Hey, Larkin, who's that guy?

- That is Cameron Poe.

A parolee hitchin' a ride home.

He's a nobody.

Okay, let's do it.

Willie, nobody on the plane knows

your classification, not even my guards.

- Guard Bishop.

- Hey, Larkin.

Tell me, Skip, is

the U.S. Marshal Service...

in the habit of employing

annoying, wiseass bookworm creeps?

Larkin's one of the best

we got.

Yeah, well, I'd still like to

crush his larynx with my boot.

Scan him.

Face me.

- What's this sh*t?

- It's my daughter.

I don't care if it's

the weepin' mama of Christ.

There's no personal possessions

on this airplane.

Just as long as you know I'll be

gettin' that back at some point.

Are you tellin' me what I'm

gonna be doin' here, numb-nuts?

- You heard me.

- Hey, hey, hey.

Come on,

break it up.

Oh, now, look at this fashion statement.

The do-rag gotta go, homeboy.

- Right here.

- Attention, officers.

- Final check, all restraints.

- Sweet bird of freedom.

Take off

in three minutes.

What's up, man?

Oh, sh*t. What's up?

I thought you was someone else.

Pinball Parker.

Armed robber, arsonist, dope fiend. I'm

a hell of a nice guy. I just got caught.

Aw, shucks.

- All right, face me.

- I got him.

Come on.

Open.

You guys are late

for the party.

- Okay.

- Let's go, sweetheart.

What's up, Cochise?

How?

Hey, man, I'm just f***in' with you,

all right? Don't get all...

"Wounded Knee" on me

and sh*t.

You look like

you wanna scalp a n*gger.

What you lookin' at,

punk?

Nothin'. I was just

admirin' your cage.

Fits you pretty good.

Well, welcome aboard.

My, my. As I look around I see

a lot of celebrities among us.

I see 11 Current Affairs, two Hard

Copies, and a genuine Geraldo interviewee.

But I got to tell you,

gentlemen, none of this impresses me.

Because we have rules on this aircraft,

and they're gonna be enforced.

It's a lot like kindergarten.

You'll keep your hands to yourself.

You keep the decibel level down. And if

any of you should feel the need to scream...

spit or bite,

you get the treatment.

- F*** you, pig.

- Gag and bag this Nazi muffin.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes