Get Shorty Page #16

BEAR:

Not too bad.

CHILI:

How 'bout when you went down the stairs?

The Bear touches his thigh . . .

BEAR:

I think I pulled my quadriceps.

CHILI:

So . . . how many movies you been in?

BEAR:

About sixty.

CHILI:

No sh*t? What're some of 'em?

INT. HARRY'S OFFICE -- DAY

Harry is passed out with his head on the blotter when we

hear someone POUND ON THE DOOR. He jerks upright.

VOICE:

Harry Zimm?

HARRY:

What -- who is it . . . ?

Harry, his hair a mess from sleeping on it, looks up at the

door as it opens to reveal Ray Bones standing there.

RAY BONES:

The dipshit who's never been out've Miami.

Harry wakes up quick, nearly wets himself as Bones then

casually steps into the office.

HARRY:

Mr. Barboni. Well. This is surprise . . .

Scrambling now to play it the way Chili taught him, Harry

quickly gestures to the red leather chair arross the desk.

HARRY:

Please. Have a seat. Right here in this chair right here . .

.

As Ray Bones sits down, Harry moves to the blinds and opens

them. Problem is, the sun's setting, so there's no glare at

all. Ray indicates the nice red sunset . . .

BONES:

They say the f***in' smog's the reason you have such

beautiful sunsets.

Harry just smiles, sits down at the desk, things already not

going too well, about to get worse . . .

INT. WINGATE MOTORS OFFICE -- SAME TIME

The walls are covered with posters of Porsches and Ferraris,

the kind you can buy at the carwash with severely titted

chicks sprawled on the hoods. Bo Catlett is behind a big

wooden desk on the phone.

BO CATLETT:

Whatta you mean, he faked them out?

EXT. AIRPORT PAYPHONE -- DAY

The Bear, sort of half doubled over . . .

BEAR:

He knew it was a set up. He was ready for it.

INTERCUTTING BO CATLETT & THE BEAR

BO CATLETT:

So where's the money?

BEAR:

I guess still in the locker.

BO CATLETT:

You guess? You mean you don't know?

BEAR:

I mean I don't care.

Bo Catlett looks into the outer office as a car pulls into

the garage. Three dark-shaded gentlemen step out of the car.

BO CATLETT:

Bear, I'm going to call you later.

INT. WINGATE MOTORS OFFICE -- DAY

Bo Catlett hangs up, gets to his feet as the men all look

into the office now.

BO CATLETT:

Mr. Escobar. What a surprise. Welcome to L.A.

We can now see that one of the Latinos is older, the other

two, younger, are his bodyguards. Mr. ESCOBAR, the older,

meaner one . . . steps into the office . . .

ESCOBAR:

Where is my nephew?

BO CATLETT:

Your who?

ESCOBAR:

Yayo. Where is he?

Bo Catlett stiffens . . . Uh oh.

INT. GARAGE -- DAY

As the two back doors of a limo slum shut. There's half

dozen other limos wedged in here.

INT. LIMO -- SAME TIME

Bo Catlett sits in the back, wedged in between the two

bodyguards, neither of whom has removed his shades. He faces

Escobar on the opposite seat.

ESCOBAR:

He's my sister's kid. No papa. Not too bright. Personally, I

think he's a retard. I only gave him the job as a favor for

my sister, you understand?

BO CATLETT:

Sure. Family. I know how that goes.

ESCOBAR:

He comes up here with our product. He suppose to come home

with five hundred thousand dollars. He never shows up.

Meanwhile, my sister's going crazy calling me all the time

worried about him. Me, I just wanna know what happened to my

focking money.

BO CATLETT:

Well, I don't know. I gave the man his money, sent him on

his way.

ESCOBAR:

You gave him the money?

BO CATLETT:

I gave him a key to a locker that had the money in it.

ESCOBAR:

Now why would you do that? Put the money in a locker?

BO CATLETT:

Because there were a zillion DEA guys hanging around the

terminal.

ESCOBAR:

(flat)

A zillion, huh? That's a lot.

Escobar studies him a moment. Bo Catlett shrugs.

BO CATLETT:

Maybe your nephew panicked, took off.

ESCOBAR:

Where's your partner, the jumpy one? Why isn't he here?

BO CATLETT:

He's around someplace.

ESCOBAR:

I hear he's around Palm Springs. Dealing our product.

Product we sold to you for five hundred thousand dollars.

(then)

Why do you keep talking to me bullshit? I think maybe I have

Ramon and Ceasar staple your tongue to your chin. What do

you think?

Bo Catlett barely glances at the bodyguards, smiles the

gleamy smile to the Latin guy in front of him . . .

BO CATLETT:

You know, you speak very good English, Mr. Escobar.

ESCOBAR:

I went to UC San Diego.

(then)

We're gonna spend the weekend at the Universal Sheraton.

We're gonna take the tour. See the shark. Check out the

Miami Vice Action Spectacular. After, we'll come here, get

our money.

One of the bodyguards says 'Your nephew' in Spanish.

ESCOBAR:

Oh, yeah, and Yayo, too.

INT. RONNIE WINGATE'S PORSCHE -- DAY

As Ronnie zigzags in and out of traffic, giving people the

'look' as he passes . . . on the carphone.

RONNIE:

His f***ing nephew?

INT. WINGATE MOTORS -- SAME TIME

Bo Catlett on the phone . . .

BO CATLETT:

You get to town, you go straight to the bank, raid the limo

account.

INTERCUTTING RONNIE & BO CATLETT

RONNIE:

I'm already in town, but it don't matter. We got dick in the

bank. We dumped it all in Harry's movie.

BO CATLETT:

What I'm sayin' is the man wants his money and he wants it

now.

INT. HARRY'S OFFICE -- DAY

Ray Bones impatiently listening to Harry . . .

HARRY:

I'm talking about you, Ray Barboni, owning a piece of a

major motion picture. How big a piece is up to you. What I'm

saying, you could invest part of the three hundred Palmer

owes you or you could invest all of it. It's entirely up to

you . . .

Bones leans forward . . .

BONES:

Where's Leo Devoe? Where's Chili Palmer? Where's my f***in'

money?

HARRY:

Ray. Look at me.

Uh-oh . . . Ray's heard that one before . . .

BONES:

What?

HARRY:

Look at me, Ray.

BONES:

You say look at you?

HARRY:

That's correct. Look at me.

Bones shakes his head, stands up . . .

BONES:

I tell you what . . .

And in one fast move, Ray Bones grabs the phone off the desk

and slams it into Harry Zimm's surprised face . . .

BONES:

F***in look at that, a**hole . . .

Bones then yanks the phone out of the wall and throws it

down at Harry . . .

BONES:

And have a peek at that . . .

Ray Bones pulls a pair of black leather gloves from his

pocket and steps around the desk . . . begins kicking the

living sh*t out of Harry Zimm . . .

BONES:

You know, Harry, this is the exact f***ing thing I needed

after the f***ing plane flight. My ass fell asleep . . .

(kick)

. . . seven times. I need a little f***ing . . .

(kick)

. . . exercise.

Harry tries to push himself to his feet, but Ray Bones

stomps on Harry's hands . . . breaking them . . . and Harry

falls back down . . . Bones crouches down . . .

BONES:

You got a big problem, Harry.

Bones grabs him by the hair, picks him up and throws him

arross the room into the wall of pictures, many of them

coming off their hooks and falling on top of Harry.

BONES:

Hey, Harry . . . Harry. Don't you pass out on me. Look up

here . . .

Harry, a crumpled heap, looks up and we see his bloody

pummeled face as Ray Bones quickly crosses the room. He

steps on Harry's neck with his shoe, pinning him to the

floor . . .

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