Ernest Goes to Jail Page #4

and I'd get my feet off his desk

because you know how he feels

about his famous golf trophy.

Yeah.

You know, by the way,

I had a real nice time

the other night.

I think it was

really good for me

to just get away from work

and just have some fun.

Yeah, I had a nice time,

too, baby.

"Baby"?

Ernest, sometimes

you can be so weird.

Good morning, Miss Sparrow.

Good morning.

And what are we doing

behind the bank presidents desk?

I was just gonna

leave you a note.

About what?

About, um...

Uh, Ernest wants to

formally apply

for that clerk's job.

Yeah, yeah, thats it.

Ha. I see...

Ernest the clerk.

Hmm. What a great idea.

Well, now you don't have to

leave a note, do you?

So get out from there!

Whats the matter with your hair?

Is that some sort

of punk thing, huh?

I was just trying something new.

Just look at you.

You are a poor excuse for

a member of the human race.

You and that big nose

and ugly face

have caused so much trouble

around here,

I should be given a medal

for tolerating you.

I would choose my words

differently if I were you.

Oh? Should I use

smaller ones?

How 'bout this?

No!

Now get out of my office,

both of you!

Oh, I'm sorry, Ernest.

He promised he wasn't

gonna do that.

Well... well, who cares

what he thinks anyway?

I'm really proud of you

for trying.

I mean, you're starting

to take stock of yourself.

When you were in there

talking to Mr. Pendlesmythe,

it was as if you were

a whole different person.

What do you mean?

Well, I-I mean

that I'm proud of you.

Ernest, do you have any idea

how long you've made

me and Bobby wait in that van?

7.5 minutes.

I want to tell you

something about time.

My time is worth money,

and I don't think you

make that kind of money

to pay me for my time.

Now, lets put the hammer down.

Okay, today will be

your first test as Mr. Nash.

Don't worry, fellas,

you are talking

to a consummate actor,

a brilliant interpreter

of character and nuance,

a professional practitioner

in the style and method

of the great Stradivarius.

Man:
Bring the sheets

back over in the corner.

Just pile them up.

Yeah, just throw 'em anywhere.

Man 2:
Hey, Jesus, don't

over stuff the machine again.

Man 3:
Hey, Bill, we need

more starch over here.

Man 4:
All right,

come on.

You got something on your shirt?

Ah heh heh heh heh.

Today's the day, Nash.

My boy's ready.

Not now, Vinny.

Mr. Nash doesn't have

anything to prove.

Everybody's waiting.

You're not gonna

chicken out now, are you?

I don't know the meaning

of the word "chicken."

Man:
If you lose

this one, Nash,

we're gonna run things.

I know you've

never lost, Nash... yet,

but my man Spider here

is gonna change all that.

Okay?

- Go!

- Grrr!

Ernest:
Wait a minute!

I wasn't even ready!

Thats not fair!

Listen,

where I come from, mister,

you're supposed to say,

"Ready, set, go."

Thats the official way,

and I want a rematch.

Nash, you're a glutton

for punishment.

You're in

way over your head, man.

They're gonna figure you out.

He was just lucky.

I can take this guy.

Man:
Okay, here we go.

Ready... set...

go!

Come on, man!

Come on, baby!

Come on, Spider!

Come on, baby!

Come on, Spider!

Come on, man!

Right there, right there,

right there!

Come on, Spider.

Come on, baby.

Smoke?

Man:
Aw, man!

That was close.

Next case.

Man, why don't you

shut your mouth?

The real Mr. Nash

don't say much.

Well, maybe he ought to, right?

I mean, after all, I'm just

reaching for the character.

What do you know about the pain

an actor must go through...

You straighten up,

or I'll show you pain,

and don't you forget

your loved ones on the outside.

Chuck:
Ernest, Ernest,

we're sorry.

Bobby didn't know

the mace can was loaded.

Bobby, how many times

do I have to tell you...

Yuh! Get off me, you mutt!

Get out of here!

This is pathetic.

This guy's better off in jail.

Whoa! Ugh!

Ugh!

Oof!

Eee!

I will effect my escape

using a bar of soap,

a common, ordinary

household spoon,

and a tin of shoe polish.

Thank goodness

I paid attention in art class.

Don't worry, Charlotte,

I'll save you.

Your hero is on his way.

Hey, screw!

Yeah, you!

Come here!

What now, Nash?

Open the door or I'll waste ya.

Ah heh heh heh heh.

Assault rifle on a rope,

the perfect gift

for the mercenary

who has everything.

Ah ha ha ha ha.

Ah ha.

Man:
Shut up!

Chuck:
Mr. P.!

Mr. P., could I have

just one moment

of your time, sir, please?

I want to introduce you

to our latest arsenal

in the war against crime.

Look...

Eh! Mr. P.,

its very, very special.

Well... all right,

but I'm late for dinner.

Great. You'll eat.

Just follow me, please, sir.

Okay, can I have you

here, please? Thank you.

You won't be needing this.

Lets... lets go.

Lets open up.

Open up. Thank you.

Bobby...

Please.

Mr. P., do you have

that funny, little acidy taste

in the back of your throat...

like that?

Uh-huh.

Can you taste it?

Do you know what that is?

Unh-unh.

Fear.

Thats what your common,

class-X criminal

would be feeling at this moment

if he were in your situation.

- Oh.

- Bobby...

its only a simulation.

- - I don't

think I'd touch those bars, Mr. P.,

unless you want

200,000 volts of electricity

jolting through your body.

Think about that.

Bobby...

Mr. P., uh, have a nice dinner

and a... and a good

nights sleep... sir.

Eh, he's had a real hard day.

Ernest:

Don't worry, Charlotte,

I'll soon be flying

into your arms

with my superior knowledge

of mathematics and geometry.

The square root and angle

of your lower hypotenuse

times the angle of your pi...

and that sort of thing.

Let the countdown begin.

3... 2... 11/2...

1... 3/4...

zero... fire!

Whaaaaa!

You see, casting

is all in the wrist.

Its a sport of kings,

a game of inches.

And as soon as your game fish

takes the bait,

'tis important to give the line a

sharp tug in order to set the hook,

and then quickly reel it in.

Ha ha ha ha!

Ah heh heh heh heh heh.

I was gonna throw it back,

honest.

Nooo!

That ought to hold ya.

Don't you have anything

in a pastel blue?

Accessories are so important.

Accessories!

The way they run

this institution is an outrage

for a poor, tired, old,

lonely woman like me,

her only son a felon,

though not a terribly

successful one.

Young man...

Young man.

Young man, could you please

open that gate?

I left my car running outside.

Ma'am, can you tell me how

you got through this gate?

The visitors' area is on

the other side of the prison.

I brought him up

as best I could,

but sometimes a bad seed

falls from even

the most fragile flower.

Ma'am, you're not going

through this gate.

Is this the way you treat

your mother?

Is this the kind of abuse

that poor woman must endure?

Well, I guess my mother

is a little bit mad...

Mm-hmm. You ought to be

in the slammer

with the rest of these misfits.

If you had any remorse

at all for the horror

you put your own mother through,

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