Get Shorty Page #14

CHILI:

Rough business this movie business. I may have to go back to

loan sharking for a rest.

Harry doesn't say anything. Karen looks at him.

KAREN:

Harry, what're you still doing with those guys?

HARRY:

He happens to be loaning me five hundred grand, no strings,

I write any kind of agreement I want.

CHILI:

Is he giving you a check or cash?

HARRY:

Cash. It happens to be waiting right at this moment in a

locker at the airport.

KAREN:

A locker at the airport? Jesus Christ, Harry. Tell me you're

not really that stupid.

CHILI:

The guy's setting you up. You pulled out of their Freaks

deal so he's paying you back.

HARRY:

Oh, is that right? I'm being set up? Then how come Catlett

said I should send you out to get it, since you haven't done

a f***ing thing for me since you got into this . . . except

showing Bo Catlett my script?

Chili looks at Karen, smiles, shakes his head . . .

CHILI:

Okay, Harry, I'm wrong. You're not the one he's setting up.

HARRY:

I mean, at least Bo's invested in three of my movies.

KAREN:

Harry, we spoke with Martin.

HARRY:

'We?'

KAREN:

Chili and me.

Harry looks at the two of them, differently now . . .

HARRY:

Really.

CHILI:

Yeah, he wants us to talk to Buddy, set up a meeting.

HARRY:

A meeting with who? You and Karen?

KAREN:

Harry --

HARRY:

Man's in town two days, thinks he's David O. f***ing

Selznick.

Karen and Chili look at each other as Harry finishes his

drink.

HARRY:

So how 'bout it, Mr. Selznick, do I make my deal with Bo? Or

you gonna finally help me out, have a word with your dry

cleaner when you find him.

CHILI:

I found him.

Harry looks at him.

CHILI:

Forget about Leo's money, Harry.

HARRY:

You have it?

CHILI:

Harry, if I gave you Leo's money you'd have Ray Bones all

over your ass and then you'd be in a whole new kinda

trouble.

HARRY:

Who?

CHILI:

Ray Barboni. Guy from Miami, owns Leo now that Momo died.

HARRY:

Who the f*** is Momo? Jesus, these f***ing names . . .

CHILI:

Tell you what, Harry, tomorrow morning, when the airport's

crowded, I'll go check it out. If I don't see a problem,

I'll pick up the money . . .

KAREN:

I wouldn't get my hopes up, Harry.

Harry thinks a moment, lays the key on the table, but keeps

his hand on it.

HARRY:

Maybe I oughta talk to this Ray Bones character myself. See

if he wants to invest in my movie.

CHILI:

Don't waste your time, Harry. The guy's not much of a movie

fan. Now c'mon, gimme the key.

Harry finally lifts his hand.

EXT. HARRY'S OFFICE -- NIGHT

A light on upstairs . . .

HARRY (V.O.)

Bones. B-O-N-E-S.

INT. HARRY'S OFFICE -- SAME TIME

Harry sits at his desk, the phone cradled to his ear, a

half-empty bottle of scotch in front of him.

OPERATOR:

(PHONE)

I show a 'Dem Bones Barbecue' in Dade County, but that's

all.

HARRY:

Oh. Wait a minute. That's not his real name. It's uh . . .

uh . . . yeah -- try Barboni. B-a-r-b-o-n-i.

INT. RAY BONES' APARTMENT -- NIGHT

We start CLOSE ON A TELEPHONE . . . THE PHONE RINGS and we

BOOM UP to reveal a CLOSED DOOR across the room . . .

INT. BATHROOM -- SAME TIME

Ray Bones nests on the can, humming off key, reading Weir'D

Tales, Martin Weir's autobiography. He looks up, listens to

the PHONE RING.

BONES:

F***.

The phone KEEPS RINGING. Bones thinks about it a moment,

then tosses the book aside . . .

BONES:

F*** f*** f*** f*** . . .

INT. FRONT ROOM -- SAME TIME

As Bones bursts out of the john and grabs the phone.

BONES:

What?

INTERCUTTING HARRY & RAY BONES

Phone to his ear, Harry downs another drink, sits up.

HARRY:

Ray Barboni?

BONES:

Who is this?

HARRY:

Are you the guy they called Ray Bones?

BONES:

Depends. Who's this?

HARRY:

Who is this? I'm the one telling you the way it is, okay,

a**hole? That's who I am. Now you want your three hundred

grand or don't you?

BONES:

What three hundred grand?

HARRY:

The three hundred grand a guy named Leo Devoe scammed off an

airline. The three hundred grand Chili Palmer now has in his

possession.

Okay. This gets Bones' attention.

HARRY:

Hello? You there?

BONES:

Yeah, I'm here. I just don't like the anonymous crap. It

means your either chickenshit or not for real.

HARRY:

Yeah? Well, trust me. I'm very for real.

BONES:

Okay. So who are you?

HARRY:

I work for Harry Zimm, alright?

BONES:

Who?

HARRY:

Harry Zimm. The man happens to be a major Hollywood player.

BONES:

Never heard of him.

HARRY:

Maybe that's because you've never been out've f***in' Miami,

dipshit. Maybe it's time you got on a plane, flew out to

L.A. and took a meeting with Mr. Zimm.

Bones sits down, trying to put this together . . .

BONES:

So, what, this Zimm guy asking for some kinda finders fee,

that what we're talking about here?

HARRY:

Hey, Zimm doesn't ask for dick. Zimm tells you the way it is

. . . or else.

BONES:

Or else what?

HARRY:

Or else use your f***ing imagination.

Harry hangs up at the other end. Bones stares at the phone.

CONTINUED:

INT. HARRY'S OFFICE -- SAME TIME

He sits there a moment, also staring at the phone.

HARRY:

Motherf***er.

He then realizes his hands are shaking, grabs the bottle and

pours the rest of the scotch down his throat.

EXT. LAX -- SOVEREIGN TERMINAL -- MORNING

Busy. Travelers moving along the sidewalk. Here comes Chili

. . . he enters the terminal and we . . .

INT. SOVEREIGN TERMINAL -- DAY

CUT TO:

A ROW OF LOCKERS

All with keys sticking out of them except one. We push in on

that one . . . C-18.

CHILI:

stands between rows of lockers on either side of him. He

studies them a moment longer, then looks up at the ARRIVALS

MONITOR. He starts writing something on a CARD as we push

past him . . . pushing in on #83 from NEWARK . . .

INT. AIRPORT GIFT SHOP -- DAY

As Chili buys an L.A. LAKERS T-SHIRT and a BLACK CANVAS

ATHLETIC BAG. He pauses to check out the magazine rack,

Martin Weir is on the cover of everything including his

hardback autobiography "WEIR'D TALES". He grabs a copy . . .

Chili puts the book and the T-shirt inside the athletic bag,

puts that inside the papergift shop bag, and then looks

around . . .

A SCRUFFY LOOKING KID

Eighteen or so, checking out the skin magazines as Chili

comes up behind him.

CHILI:

You want to make five bucks, take you two minutes?

The kid looks at him, but doesn't answer.

CHILI:

You go over to those lockers over there and put this in

C-17.

The kid still doesn't say anything.

CHILI:

It's a surprise for my wife. But you have to do it quick,

okay? While she's in the can.

That sonuds like it makes sense, so the kid nods . . .

KID:

Yeah, okay.

Chili gives him the paper bag with his purchases, a five

dollar bill and three quarters. He watches as . . .

The kid walks over to the row of lockers . . . puts the

quarters into C-17, opens it, puts the stuff inside, pulls

the key and then walks back over to Chili, and hands him the

key . . .

CHILI:

Thanks.

EXT. AIRPORT -- DAY

As a plane touches down . . .

INT. SOVEREIGN TERMINAL -- DAY

As Chili watches the last few passengers come off the plane.

He watches them come through the gate until he's standing

there by himself.

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