Death At A Funeral Page #8
- Not shaking her hasn't worked, has it?
- Yeah, okay.
- You shake her, and you kiss her.
I just don't know if that'll go over so well.
- Man.
- What's up?
I gotta take a sh*t.
Man, just when I had my potato...
Hey, hey, hey, Norman! I gotta take a crap!
- Look at his eyes. That doesn't look normal.
- He looks like a zombie.
Hello?
- Hello?
- Hello.
- I need the toilet, open up!
- Go deal with him.
Open the door.
- Can't you use the one upstairs?
- I'm in a wheelchair, you f***ing idiot!
How am I supposed
to get up the goddamn stairs?
- What are we gonna do?
- I don't know.
- Open the f***ing door!
- Let's put him behind the couch.
Sh*t. Man, I need the toilet. Open up.
Norman!
- Open the goddamn door!
- Just a minute. I'm trying to find the key.
I need the toilet, you fat bastard.
- Sorry, sorry.
- I'm just going across the room
to get the key, Uncle Russell.
So you could use the bathroom,
'cause I know you gotta doo-doo.
Now open the f***ing door!
Sh*t! Damn it.
What the hell is going on here?
Uncle Russell.
Get your ass out here.
Uncle Russell nothing, man. Sh*t.
Come on, Aaron, think.
- I'm thinking, I'm thinking.
- Well, you know what?
- Stop thinking and do something.
- Why do I gotta do something?
- You the one that tied him up.
- Well, somebody had to look out for Mama.
I been looking out for Mom
since you got your book deal,
You just can't get over it, can you?
You burning with jealousy, all because I left
and did what you always wanted to do?
I couldn't just leave my family.
I got Mom, I got Dad, I got a wife.
I got all sorts of responsibilities.
Don't put it off on responsibility.
You spent three years on a novel,
and you won't let anybody read it.
What you gonna do? Wait until you're dead?
What you think you're gonna be,
the Tupac of books? Makaveli?
At least I'm not some hack writing
a bunch of crap, Mr Mama's Secret.
The secret is it sucks.
Mr Black Hurt, it hurts to read that sh*t.
Mr No Ink. Mr Blank Page.
Ain't nothing there. Ain't nothing there.
At least my sh*t gets published.
That's what it's about,
just getting published?
- Don't put your hand on me, Aaron.
- I'll put my hand on you.
- Don't touch me, man.
- I'll put my hand upside you.
- Is that what you...
- I'm a hands-on motherf***er.
Punch me in the face?
No. Why would I do that
when I could do this?
- Here, look. How does that feel?
- My ball. My ball.
I'm telling Mom.
- I'm telling Mom.
- No, no.
Don't you tell Mama! Don't you tell Mama!
- Aaron, you wrong.
- I got your black hurt.
- I got your...
- Aaron.
- Go! Not now!
- What is going on?
- Get a brick or something.
- Why are you acting like this?
- Get off me. Tell her.
- Tell me what?
- What?
- Come here.
Remember the guy with the leather jacket?
Of course, yeah, your father's friend.
Okay, I don't know how to tell you this,
but it looks like him and Dad were...
Were being intimate.
- They were having sex, Michelle.
- No.
- Yeah.
- No. With him? Are you sure?
- I mean, maybe he's here making the...
- We're sure.
- is now this guy wants $30,000.
- $30,000?
Or else he's gonna start showing pictures
of them doing stuff.
- Stuff? Like what kind of stuff?
- Sex stuff.
Oh, my!
- Okay.
- Quickly!
- I got a goddamn torpedo coming down.
- Wait a minute!
Get my pants.
Get my... Take my pants down!
- You do that by yourself!
- No. How can I? I'm incapable!
I'm goddamn handicapped!
My drawers, my drawers.
- Don't leave me here...
- No, who calls them drawers?
My drawers! My drawers! Come on!
Am I there? Come on. Sh*t.
Wait a minute.
- That's the snake in my mouth.
- Wait a minute! Wait a minute!
- No! No! My hand is stuck!
- How you get your hand...
- No! No, my hand is stuck!
No, Uncle Russell! Please!
Please come off. Please come off, man.
How does something like that happen?
Oh, my...
Norman. Norman!
Jeff, please, get me a towel. Please.
- What?
- You missed a spot.
No! No! No! Please, God. No!
- Norman. Norman, calm down. Calm down.
- No! No!
I think I got some of it in my mouth.
Norman! Pull yourself together!
Would you rather be shitty-mouthed
or get caught? Think.
You right, you right.
I'm gonna get myself together.
Everything is copastetic. I'm gonna forget
about the poop in my mouth.
- I'm just gonna hold my breath for a second.
- It never was there, never was there.
- Sh*t.
- Oh, no.
How the... How the... How the f*** did he...
- Check him.
- Hey, hey, hey. Hey, buddy?
Hey. Are you okay, man?
Oh, sh*t.
- Hey, buddy.
- Check him.
- You okay?
- Wake up. Come on, wake up, little buddy.
- What's his name?
- I don't know.
- Larry, try Larry.
- Larry?
Shake him.
- Hey, hey, Larry?
- Come on.
- Yo, Larry?
- Maybe it's not Larry.
Try another one. Bert, Ernie, I don't know,
Big Bird, whatever.
I'm gonna check to see if he's breathing,
'cause that's what people
do when they're alive, right?
I'm gonna check to make sure he's
breathing, 'cause he's gotta be breathing.
Lord Jesus, please let him be breathing.
He's not breathing.
- Sh*t.
- What?
He's dead.
We're just gonna give this
guy half the money we saved.
- It's not quite that simple.
- Well, why not?
Aaron refused to pay.
- Well, how come you couldn't pay, Ryan?
- That's not the point.
Besides, the only reason
Aaron tore up the cheque
is because little man was talking sh*t
about his novel.
- Hey, hey, hey, hey, no.
- Wait. What?
Your novel?
You won't let me read your novel,
but you let that guy read your novel?
- I didn't let him.
- Really?
Really, Aaron? Really?
Thanks a lot.
Let her go. She'll get over it.
Hey. At least that white guy finally got
what he deserved.
Let me get this straight.
with a guy that could fit in his pocket,
and you're mad 'cause he's white?
I don't give a f*** 'cause...
Leave me be. I'm grieving.
Grieving.
Hey, hi.
What the f*** is he doing now?
Norman. Why are you grinning
like Louis Armstrong?
Aaron, Ryan,
could you please come to the study?
Smells like sh*t.
Excuse me.
What? Wait a minute, wait a minute.
Somebody call an ambulance.
Get an... Get an ambulance.
It's... It's... There's no point.
What do you mean, there's no point?
I mean, look at him, Aaron. He's dead.
You mean, like dead dead?
- Is there any other kind of dead, Aaron?
- What did y'all do to him?
- We didn't do nothing.
- Well, you must've done something.
When we left, he was alive,
and I was expecting to find him that way
when I got back.
He got in a fight with the table
and the table won.
- This is really bad.
- Yeah.
- Guys, what are we gonna do?
- About 25 to life.
I think I have somewhere else to be
right now.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.
Ryan, I can't go to jail. I'm not jail type.
You know how fast a rash spreads
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"Death At A Funeral" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 19 Nov. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/death_at_a_funeral_6564>.
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