Going Postal
- Year:
- 2010
- 185 min
- 409 Views
gods had a sense of humour.'
'Why else would they put us all
on the back of a giant turtle?'
'Of course, l had assumed
l was in on the joke.'
'As it turns out, l, Moist von
Lipwig, am the butt of it.
Can you fax it
to Genua, please, dear?
(LAUGHS)
Bloody hell fire.
When are they gonna spend
some money on this system?
(MENAClNG VOlCE)
Good evening, John Dearheart.
Who's there?
And good night.
(SCREAMS)
Argh!
(PANTS)
Argh! Argh!
(SCREAMS)
'There is always an angle.'
'l've come to realise it's the one
thing in life you can rely on.'
'The trick is finding that angle.'
'The events l'm about to recount
may seem extraordinary,
callous, criminal, even.'
'But reflecting
on all that's happened,
in many ways, l feel blameless.'
'Perhaps you'd be more sympathetic if
l started from the very beginning.'
'You see, on the day l was orphaned,
l had only two things to my name -
the family nag,
and "nag" is being generous,
and my wits.'
'But wit, and a bit of boot polish,
can turn a nag into a horse...
..for about 20 minutes.'
'Which is all l needed.'
'1 2 horse trades later, and l had
enough cash to get into diamonds.'
$25.
ls that all?
(CASH REGlSTER RlNGS)
'Got her.'
'She'd seen a $1 00 diamond, but
she'd bought a $1 lump of glass.'
'You see, l'm a firm believer
in the saying,
"you can't fool an honest man".'
'lt was on this premise
that l built my career.' (BELL)
'Rob, trick, forge, embezzle.'
'l can't deny
l did every con in the book.'
'And when l finished
the book of cons,
l started writing
chapters of my own.'
News!
Times! Times!
Albert Spangler, chief bursar
for the Undertakers Guild.
You might be interested
in our compensation scheme
for losses incurred by the, er...
..fake bond scandal.
'Good dollars for fake bonds,
fake dollars for good bonds.'
'Switch the cash bags,
add a dash of short change,
bank on a little greed...'
'By the time we'd finished,
l was $200 up.'
'Not a fortune, but enough
for a good night on the town.'
(SNlFFS)
(GROWLS)
Albert Spangler?
Never heard of him.
But for you, l could be anyone.
Could you be lunch?
(GROWLS)
'How was l to know the City Watch's
finest sergeant was a werewolf?'
(GROWLS)
Eurgh!
'l'd been in tighter spots.'
'The mortar was soft.'
and time on my hands,
a few weeks' hard digging
and l'd be free.'
(SHOUTlNG OUTSlDE)
(LAUGHS)
(STRAlNS)
(GROANS)
(APPLAUSE)
Well done, Mr Lipwig.
You set this up.
Lord Vetinari's orders.
He calls it occupational therapy.
Occupa...
l call it torture.
Not upset, are you?
Only you've really entered
into the spirit of the thing.
Admirable,
the way you kept going,
stuffing all the dust
into your mattress.
Very tidy.
Now, you really should
get some rest.
We'll be hanging you
in half an hour.
Hanging? For one little con?
That and these.
There's got to be at least
$1 50,000 worth of fraud here.
And these are just
the cons we can prove.
Good morning, sir.
l am Trooper and l will be your
executioner for today. (CROWD NOlSE)
Don't look so worried, sir,
l've hanged hundreds of people
and we'll have you
out of here in no time.
That's what l'm worried about.
Now, before we start,
about your rope, sir.
lt sounds strange, but there's a lot
of specialist collectors out there
on the clacks.
lt's the coming thing, you know.
Worth more signed, of course.
FROM SPECTATORS)
Much obliged.
Which just leaves the small matter
of your final words.
l wasn't actually expecting to die.
Very good.
We haven't had that one before(!)
Everybody ready?
Not me. Not me.
Oh, you are a card, sir.
(LAUGHS)
l bring an edict from Lord Vetinari,
Patrician of Ankh-Morpork.
(LAUGHS) A reprieve!
He says to get on with it.
(SPECTATORS CHEER)
The last words, sir?
l commend my soul to any god
that can find it.
Very nice, we'll go with that.
(CHEERlNG)
(EXHALES)
Ah, Mr Lipwig, l see you are awake.
(STRAlNS)
And still alive at the present time.
Ooh!
You've danced the sisal two-step.
lt's a very precise science,
hanging a man,
and Mr Trooper is a master.
But only an expert
would have spotted
that you were hanged to within
an inch of your life.
The last inch being
the crux of the matter.
You see, sometimes,
when a man has made such a foul
and tangled mess of his life
that death appears
to be the only option...
..an angel appears
and offers him a change of life.
l should like you
to think of me as that angel.
l'm offering you a new life.
(GULPS)
And a job.
(SPLUTTERS)
Little sips.
Now, perhaps, l should point out
that door behind you.
lf, after hearing my proposition,
you wish to leave,
you have only to step through
that door
and you will never hear
from me again.
The job in question is to reopen
the Ankh-Morpork Post Office.
The Post Office?
Mmm.
A moment.
Oh!
(EXHALES)
'Certain death or the Post Office?'
'Hardly a choice,
more an alternative.'
'l'd seen enough of the inside
of a coffin for one day.'
You see, the really interesting
thing about angels...
..is that you only ever get the one.
Do we understand each other,
Mr Lipwig?
Perfectly. (LAUGHS)
Welcome to government service.
And the wage is $20 a week.
Not bad at all.
Please.
Oh, l almost forgot.
Your parole officer will meet you
outside in ten minutes.
Parole officer?
But l'm a respectable
member of society now.
Oh, he's a very respectable
parole officer.
(LAUGHS)
Whoo-hoo!
a second chance.'
'All l had to do was run faster
and run longer.'
'By nightfall,
l'd be in a feather bed
and, by morning,
l'd be back in business.'
(BREAKlNG GLASS)
Uh?
(BANGlNG/WOOD SPLlNTERlNG)
(BOOMlNG VOlCE) You can't run
and you can't hide, Mr Lipwig.
That's what you think.
You gotta be kidding.
Argh!
The rules must be obeyed.
A-a-a-rgh!
l have nothing but good feelings
towards you, Mr Lipwig.
What the hell are you?!
l am your parole officer
and your safety is my concern.
(SHORT SNORE)
Regrettably, we meet again.
Yet l specifically remember saying
that you only ever get one angel.
You didn't say you were gonna set
a clay monster on me.
Rather harsh.
Mr Pump is not a monster,
he's a golem.
lt walked all night,
carrying me and a horse. Quite.
You have to sleep, Mr Pump does not.
You have to eat, Mr Pump does not.
There is no escape for you.
There is only a choice between
reopening the Post Office and...
(FAlNT RUMBLlNG)
But... (NERVOUS LAUGH)
Who cares about the Post Office?
No one posts anything any more,
it's all clacks, clacks, clacks -
look at it.
Do you play Thud, Mr Lipwig?
lt's a fascinating game.
My current opponent is far away
in Uberwald and we play by clacks.
Well, that's the theory, but there
are so many service breakdowns.
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"Going Postal" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 22 Nov. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/going_postal_9116>.
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