Harsh Times
(orchestration plays)
(animal screeches)
(animal screeches)
(animals screech)
(faint radio transmission)
(radio transmission continues)
(sighs)
(garbled radio transmission)
(radio transmission continues)
(yells)
(gurgles)
(gunfire)
(music plays)
Cease fire!
Cease fire! Heads up!
Man down! Cease fire!
(echoes):
Stupid motherf***er!
(gasps)
(coughs violently)
(panting)
(distant dogs barking)
(speaking Spanish)
(speaks Spanish)
S.
(goat bleats)
(distant siren wailing)
What's up, Sylvia?
Cute little outfit.
You look nice.
Mike's in
the bedroom.
Yeah?
(TV news playing)
Man, I said
you look nice.
I have a court
appearance, Jim.
Well, you just
give 'em hell.
Hey.
Spiffy duds, huh?
(door opens)
You look like
a gift-wrapped turd.
Now please leave me alone.
I have to concentrate.
I have two filings
and a deposition today.
Play nice, kids.
What up, dog?
- Nothing. Just got back.
- Cool. Cool.
How was Mexico, dog?
Oh, it was a dream, man.
- Loving my woman.
- Right.
That's it.
I'm out of here.
Those are copies
of your resum.
Pass them out like candy.
'Cause I can always
print up more.
And just call me
if anything happens, okay?
And no drinking.
Come on, baby, be cool.
Honey, I'm serious.
No drinking. Okay?
- I love you.
- I love you, too.
Good luck.
Your suit's fine, okay?
Dude, she called me
a gift-wrapped turd.
(laughing)
Don't be f***ing
with her, dude.
She's pissed.
Why is she on
the warpath? Dog...
I didn't look for work
yesterday, dude.
Sold some of her CDs,
bought a couple of 40s
and a pack of GPCs.
Caught a buzz
and watched
my Chicago Vs. Lakers tapes.
(laughs):
That's on you, homie.
We didn't even
hang yesterday.
I was out of the country.
So? My old lady still
thinks it's your fault.
Huh? Huh? Hmm?
Come on, dude, let's get
the f*** out of here
and find my ass
some employment.
It's cool you driving me around?
Yeah, dude, it's cool.
It's no trouble.
(music plays)
JIM:
Here, a**hole.
Breakfast.
Oh... ho, ho...
Dog.
No pisto for me, dude.
Today's a no-pounding day.
You heard the woman.
Good. More for me.
F*** it.
Salud.
Salud.
Man, hope they put me in
the next class or I'm f***ed.
I can't pay my rent.
Landlady's about to pull
a gauge on my ass.
What happened to all that money
you saved in the army, dude?
The tax-free sh*t?
Man, bro, this f***ing
ride cleaned me out.
I guess we drank
up the rest.
(chuckles):
Dumb ass.
(laughing)
Cops better start
paying you, dude.
You spend enough
f***ing time with them.
They better start kicking me
down some paychecks, man.
They got me hopping through
hoops, you know?
"Come in for a test."
"Come back in two weeks."
Another test, another two weeks.
F***.
Sh*t gets real,
you be hating life.
Party time will be over.
Dude, you don't know how much
I'm looking forward
to this sh*t.
You know, I'll be super recruit.
I was jumping
out of choppers
in the mountains,
taking down
hard motherfuckers,
you know?
I'll be laughing my way through
LAPD's reindeer games.
Sh*t, they're
gonna love me.
Yeah, yeah, you're gonna
f***ing love them, dude.
Ah, f*** you.
I'm going to love my old lady.
I'm gonna marry homegirl.
Import her ass.
Oh, come on, man.
Dude, what happened
to all the honeys
we were gonna pimp
with your badge, dog?
You're f***ing up the plan.
I've been thinking, you know?
Love's about sacrifice.
Only true measure of it.
What would you do for Sylvia?
Get a job.
- Mm...
- Nine to f***ing five.
Yeah.
That's love.
Hey.
Good morning.
MIKE:
So when do you officially
hand your ass over to the Man?
"Mr. Jim Davis,
we regret to inform...
I had two beers, right?
Yeah.
Going f***ing
blind or something.
Okay, this letter
says, quoting...
"no longer eligible
as a police officer candidate."
What the f*** does that mean?
Come on, dude.
"no longer eligible"? I mean,
what does that sound like?
They pulled the plug, dude.
No, no...
Why?
Oh, man, I'll bet you...
I'll bet you it's
'cause I'm white.
I bet it's 'cause
you're a dick.
No, no, no, Mike,
you don't understand.
I am f***ed.
I got to get married.
Okay? INS won't let me
bring Marta across
unless I got employment.
I promised her.
This fucks up my plan.
This is f***ing bullshit, okay?
This... these f***ing
a**holes...
These f***ing a**holes!
What the f***
is their problem, man?!
This is f***ing typical
cop hate game bullshit!
Yo, yo, f***ing
chill, Magilla Gorilla.
I mean you're trippin', dude.
Hey, what the f***
are you looking at, a**hole?!
F***ing dick.
Yo, yo,
Jim, Jim...
I'm gonna f***ing kick your
teeth down your puke hole!
You f***ing want some?
Jim, Jim, dude.
Kick back, dude.
The f***ing light is green.
Get the f*** in the car.
Man, f***.
- You're going to catch
a case doing that sh*t, man.
What the f*** were you doing?
F*** the LAPD, man.
What's up with Pasadena,
Pomona, Santa Ana and all that?
Oh, no, f*** the sticks.
L.A. City's the sh*t.
Hey, Sheriff's Department.
It's good enough for the INS
and still basically L.A., right?
Yeah, Sheriff's Department,
yeah.
They make you work
or something.
I could be cracking heads
up at the Honor Ranch.
I'll give 'em a call,
start testing.
Yeah.
That's right.
Yo, it's just
a minor setback, right?
Quit trippin', dude.
Sh*t.
Hey, you know what
I want to do?
What?
I want to get f***ed up.
Me, too, man.
I got to find a job and placate
my baby, you know.
Sylvia's going
to kick your ass?
Come on, big man,
she'll be cool.
Come on.
(Korean pop music playing)
- Bye, Nicole.
- Bye.
Let me get a couple
of singles, too, please.
Sorry, you buy whole pack.
Be cool, dude.
If I buy a whole pack
I'm gonna want
to smoke it.
I just want a couple
of smokes with my beer.
City give me $1,500 ticket.
No more.
(speaking Korean)
(speaking Korean)
A**hole.
(speaking Korean)
(yelling)
(gunshots)
- Thank you, sir.
- Thank you, sir.
Oh, sh*t.
That f***ing gangster, man.
Homeboy just ran
a six second four-forty.
Damn, the chino looked
f***ing pissed, man.
You think we'll be able
to go back there?
I hate that sh*t.
F***in' chino lookin' at us
like we were gonna bust him?
Come on, dude.
We're wearin' suits, man.
We totally look like cops.
He said he got fined
for that sh*t.
He was just being cautious.
Well, we got pisto,
we got frajos.
Only one thing missin'.
Be-at-ches.
Oh, yeah, I mean
besides b*tches, man.
Yesca?
Mm-hmm.
Bingo.
I need to feel
some reefer madness.
You sure you want
to score some bud, dude?
You haven't smoked out
since like forever, man.
I said I want
to get f***ed up, man.
F*** this purity bullshit.
Yeah... f*** purity.
Aw, man, look at this
zero-head, dog.
Stupid-ass cholo.
Look at that.
That dude's slangin', dog.
Want to get
a dime?
JIM:
No, I want it all.
Go for the stash, man.
Whoa, go, go, go.
Hey, hey, yo, yo.
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"Harsh Times" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 19 Dec. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/harsh_times_9662>.
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