Doing Time on 'The Longest Yard' Page #2

---

of expertise to offer.

Captain, what would you say

to Mr. Crewe looking in,

giving us the benefit

of his experience?

I think that's a real good idea, warden.

We can use all the help we can get.

Well, then, it's all settled.

What you say, Paul?

I appreciate the offer,

but I'm gonna have to pass.

Now, I can assure you

that your time here will be a whole

lot easier if you just participate.

I just wanna do my time

and go home. Nothing else.

If you'll excuse us, Mr. Crewe.

Captain Knauer, you can stay.

Sit down!

I used to love

your underwear commercials.

Thank you very much.

My ex-husband wore the

same brand of tighty whities.

He didn't fill them out

quite as well as you, though.

Special effects. Hollywood.

Not all me.

Oh, I doubt that very seriously.

Well, then get him enthusiastic,

damn it!

Come on, get up.

How'd it go in there?

We all set now?

Oh, yeah, we're real tight.

Only the finest for you, superstar.

I was just playing.

I ain't gonna forget you, Crewe.

Hey, yo, you owe me money

on that game, punk!

Better watch yourself, Mr. Football!

B*tch!

Yeah, you better run, woman.

Yo, football.

Take a seat.

Thanks.

You know, I have never seen

one inmate just walk in here

and be unanimously hated

by the entire population.

- I ain't never seen it.

- How'd I get so lucky?

You could have robbed banks,

sold crack,

stole your grandmama's pension,

and nobody would have cared.

But shaving points off a football game?

Man, that's just un-American.

- You play football?

- Me? No.

I suck so bad, they used to pick me

after the white kids.

Used to be mad too. It's like, "l can't

believe I picked a nigga that can't play."

- Caretaker.

- Paul Crewe.

Whatever your pleasure,

I can facilitate.

You need weed, you need meth--

Hey, you need Prozac, I'm your man.

I know how you white boys

always deal with that depression.

I mean, me personally, I don't

understand what you white boys

all depressed about.

Hey, you're white. Smile.

And for a small fee,

I can even get you McDonald's.

- Really?

- Yeah, that's right. Mickey D's.

My man Cheeseburger Eddy

got the hookup.

Cheeseburger Eddy?

That's right.

We can get our McFlurry on.

Enjoy it, fat man.

What about the love

of a beautiful woman?

Well, you're gonna have

to lower your standards

on the beautiful part

and on the woman part.

Hey.

Let's just stick

with the cheeseburgers.

Oh, they ugly now, but in eight months,

he gonna look like Beyonce.

No, thanks.

Now, here's the most important part.

You can't let these guys scare you.

You can't let them punk you.

Because if you do that, you gonna

end up being somebody's b*tch.

Don't want that.

Thanks for the advice.

Hey. Let me take that tray

out for you.

I ain't done eating yet.

Oh, you're not?

I'll give it back to you, then.

You're dead!

Hornet's Nest!

Everybody stay down.

Stay quiet!

Come on, Crewe, get up.

Get up, superstar.

Yes, sir.

You think you can do anything

you want around here, don't you?

Well, you are no different

than any other piece of sh*t

that calls this place home.

Really? These guys think

you're a dumb redneck too?

Girl, that's your new boo.

You better cut that sh*t out.

It's getting old.

That's gonna cost you.

Looking forward to it.

Wake up, Sleeping Beauty.

Hey, superdick.

Warden's wondering if your stay

in the hotbox has changed your mind.

How long have I been in here?

One week. Wanna go for two?

How'd you find these guys anyways?

Recruitment, boy.

When college stars don't get drafted,

they need a place to go.

A job, money, security.

Who drank all the damn Gatorade?!

Damn it!

And apparently steroids.

Look, seems like you got all the talent

you'd want. So why do you need me?

Well, now, you might

find this hard to believe,

but there's folks here in the prison

league don't care for me very much.

- You, warden?

- They thought it might be amusing

to schedule the defending

league champs as our first game.

And me? Well, I thought

an old pro like yourself

might have some training-camp tricks,

drills, insights to offer up.

Give us the competitive edge.

All right. Relatively simple.

You need a tune-up game.

A tune-up game?

Yeah. In college, we'd start every

season against Appalachian State

or some slack Division ll team.

Kick the living sh*t out of them.

Get their confidence up.

You know something, Paul?

- You've just given me an inspiration.

- That's great. What?

You're gonna assemble a team

to play the first game against us.

And you, Mr. Crewe,

are gonna be the quarterback.

I don't think so.

Let me tell you something.

In my prison, to get along,

you gotta go along.

I just wanna do my three years

and be done.

Three years is before

you assaulted Captain Knauer.

Now, you could be with us

for a very long time, Mr. Crewe.

Fine, I'll do it.

Good choice.

But one condition, though.

Gotta promise me to keep

Captain Knauer off my back.

It's a deal.

Now, you got four weeks

to assemble a team and train them.

What, are we gonna have a half-hour

a day to practice with a Nerf ball?

Oh, I'll make sure my boys allow you

sufficient freedom, within these walls,

to get your team in shape.

What's this? "Football 'tree-outs."'

What the hell is a "tree-out"?

"Tryout," you half a meatball.

- What's this football thing about, man?

- Crewe's getting a team together.

- To play against who?

- The guards.

Now, I don't know about y'all,

but I occasionally have the impulse

to physically assault one of our

finer correctional officers.

Yeah? Well, how the hell

we gonna get to do that?

Just show up at the "tree-outs,"

you big, dumb b*tch.

Do the girls get to play?

We're playing footballs,

not balls-balls.

This is bullshit. Just another chance

for the guards to beat on us.

Don't you idiots get it? We could get

a free shot at the guards.

This is our turn.

We could beat up on them.

We could kill them.

Kill them.

You know MVP

sold his own teammates out.

What do you think

he's gonna do to you fools?

And that's the truth.

With some cheese on it.

There ain't no meat loaf

between these buns.

Yo, man, that's my flier, man!

I worked hard on it!

You see? He ran like a little b*tch,

right? You saw that, right?

Yo, team needs you.

Team needs you.

You sh-- You come to the tr--

Come to the tree-outs.

Crappy field, sh*t-ass equipment...

Hey, man, at least we got some

world-class players over there.

Forty-five.

Forty-six.

Forty-seven.

He might make the team.

Well, if we gotta cut him,

you're doing it.

Forty-nine.

Fifty.

- All right, man.

- Good job, man.

Well, well, well.

You a football player?

Oh, no. I never played

no football, mister.

So, what happened? You read the flier,

thought it looked like some fun?

- Oh, I can't read.

- Oh, don't worry.

Reading's for rich people.

So you know, we're putting together

a football team. Love you to join.

Will you teach me to football?

Sure we'll teach you to football.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes