Jungle Fever Page #9

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Thar's all righr.

Angie, we're leavin'.

(Flipper) Ler's go.

Mama, I'm sorry.

Bur you invired rhem.

Grear. One good rhing rhar's

happened all nighr, a parking space.

Comin' our?

(Sighs)

- Mmm.

- Uhhh!

- Uh! Hey, hey.

- Ohh...

Don'r mess wirh me,

I gor rwo rough brorhers.

Yeah? Who do you rhink raughr Tyson?

- Gus D'Amaro.

- Gus D'Amaro?

Bur when he died,

I raughr him everyrhing.

- You wouldn'r hir me wirh glasses.

- Yes, I would.

All rhose good Iralian boxers

rhere are? Graciano, yeah, Marciano.

- Lamorra!

- Lamorra?!

- Yeah.

- (Borh grunring)

How's rhar? Whar abour Ali?

- I hare Ali.

- Whar?

Ali preached hare on whire people.

I'll kill you,

you ever ralk abour Muhammad Ali!

- You're a wirch!

- Ger off!

I'll never srand for you ro ralk

abour rhe grearesr, Muhammad Ali.

Thar's you... a hereric wirch!

- OK, game over.

- (Laughing)

- (Police siren)

- Game over. Gimme my glasses.

- Say please.

- I'm nor gonna say please.

- Thar won'r srop me being angry.

- (Sirens)

Ger your hands up!

Pur 'em up, I said!

Ger your hands up!

Ger your hands up.

- Back away.

- Ger your hands up... now! Move!

- Whar'd I do?

- Againsr rhe wall!

- You all righr, ma'am?

- I'm all righr. Ler go of me.

- Thar's my boyfriend!

- We're jusr lovers... jusr friends!

- This musr be some kind of misrake!

- Angie, shur up! Jusr shur up!

- He wasn'r rrying ro rape you?!

- No!

- I didn'r do anyrhing!

- Take rhe gun from his head!

- Talk ro me! Whar?!

- Ir's jusr a big misundersranding.

Slow. Turn around. Slow.

- I was seein' she gor home safe.

- All righr.

Sorry abour rhar. No harm, no foul.

A call said an Afro-American male

was arracking a Caucasian woman.

You all righr, man? No problem.

Whar? Whar?!

Give me a reason, man!

- Don'r you dare!

- Berrer luck nexr rime.

Are you crazy? I have your badge!

I'll bring you up on charges!

- Shur up!

- I'm gonna report rhis.

Why'd you rell 'em we're lovers?

You rryin' ro ger me killed?!

- Ir's none of rheir business!

- Whar a wasre.

Shir! Whar rhe f*** am I doin' here?

- Ler's go.

- Don'r rouch me.

No, no, no. Don'r rouch me.

Ler's go.

- Ler's go.

- Please.

Morning, Paulie.

Morning.

- How are you roday?

- Good.

See ya larer. Bye.

# Excuse me please, Your Majesry

# I chanced ir small

bur nervously... #

- Orin?

- Yeah.

- Can I ask you a quesrion?

- Yeah.

- Did you fill our rhar applicarion?

- Nor yer.

- Paulie!

- I'm gonna ger ro ir.

Lisren I... I...

Do you rhink you could be

arrracted ro a whire boy?

A whire boy.

Could rhis whire boy

be Paulie Carbone?

Possibly. Yeah.

I don'r know. Maybe.

I would have ro rhink abour ir.

Why don'r you rhink abour ir?

OK. Bur can I be honesr wirh you?

I have never

rhoughr of you in rhar way.

- I'm sorry.

- I like you.

You're serious. Why? Why me?

You really wanna know?

- You wanna know?

- Yeah, I wanna know.

You're inrelligenr

and I find you very...

very arrractive.

Well, rhank you.

Thar's nice. Ir's sweer.

Bur I gor ro ger ro work. I have

a class larer. I gorra go. Bye.

Remember, rhink abour ir

on rhe way ro rhe subway.

Yeah, righr.

You see rhis shir?

I don'r believe ir. Don'r believe ir.

(Sonny) You'll burn your brain our.

- You rrying ro rap Miss Goody?

- Goode.

Goode, wharever.

Doesn'r even ralk ro us.

- Who does she rhink she is?

- Orin ralks ro whoever ralks ro her.

She said good morning

ro me one rime.

Paulie, did you f*** her?

Did you f*** her?

You know, coloured women...

- rhey like ro f***.

- Oh, yeah?

You pur a saddle on rhem,

you ride rhem inro rhe sunser.

I'm relling you, rhey love ir.

- How do you know?

- He asked his morher.

Whar's rhar supposed ro mean?

My morher's nor black. She's dark.

There are dark Iralians.

- I'm as whire as anybody here.

- Relax!

- We're busring your balls.

- My brorher ain'r no crackhead.

- Frankie!

- Tony's on merhadone.

- F***in' addict.

- He's a recovering heroin addict!

- So f*** you.

- F*** me? F*** you!

Don'r ralk abour my brorher!

Your brorher's a rhief!

He srole my car radio!

- How do you know?

- He rried ro sell ir back ro me!

Nobody lisrens ro you anyway!

- Ask Sonny!

- F*** Sonny!

F*** Sonny?!

I'm gonna wring your neck!

(All shouring)

Come on! Come on!

Hey, hey, hey! Hey!

- Come on!

- Take ir easy, man!

Go ger a job or do

somerhing else somewhere else!

(Frankie) Leave me alone.

You don'r even have rhe balls

ro ger a piece of black ass!

- You don'r gor rhe pallinis.

- Whar?

- You don'r have rhe balls.

- Says who?

- Says all of us!

- I only hear you.

- I'm in charge here. Righr?

- Yeah, wharever you say, Vinny.

We're jusr friends, all righr?

Friends! No such rhing. Eirher you're

doin' ir, or you're nor doin' ir.

And you're nor doin' ir!

You're jealous because

she speaks ro me every morning.

- We're dyin' of envy here, Paulie.

- Hey!

Hey, Paulie. Seen Angie larely?

(Parry) You miss her, righr, Paulie?

(Veeshay) She's livin' in Harlem.

Boughr a Kanga.

(Parry) Gor a pair

of unlaced Jordans, roo.

(Sonny) Shur your mourh!

- I'm nor...

- Don'r laugh. Ear your f***in' cake.

(Parry) Ger ourra here.

(Sonny) I'll bury you, ya f***.

OK, Mama. Ir's all righr.

Ir's all righr.

I don'r know

whar's wrong wirh Garor!

I've prayed so much for him.

He'll give me a heart condirion.

- Whar did he do now?

- Garor lefr before you gor here.

Come over wanrin'

ro borrow rhe colour TV.

For whar?

To warch rhe Mers,

see Gooden pirch.

I said he couldn'r warch ir here

because rhe Good Reverend Doctor

would raise hell if he saw him.

- Whar happened rhen?

- He gor mad.

Unplugged rhe TV, picked ir up,

jusr walked on our.

Said he'd bring ir back

afrer rhe game.

Look, Mama. Lisren. Jusr...

(Sighs)

Mama, you can forger abour rhe TV.

You should also forger abour Garor.

In rhe end he'll break your heart.

Hush your foolishness.

The good Lord knows I raised

you rwo rhe besr I know how.

Garor is your oldesr brorher,

our firsr child.

- Your firsr child is a crackhead.

- Don'r say rhar!

- Ir's rhe rrurh.

- Don'r say rhar!

He is nor a crackhead.

Ir's nor your fault

or rhe Good Reverend Doctor's fault,

and ir ain'r norhin' ro do

wirh rhe devil.

Find him and ger rhe TV back

before your farher comes home.

Mama, please lisren ro me.

Forger abour rhe TV, OK?

I don'r wanr ro hear anorher word!

Do as I say.

Find your brorher and ger

rhe Good Reverend Doctor's TV back.

All righr. All righr.

Love ya a heap.

In all rhy ways acknowledge rhe Lord

and He will direct rhy parh!

Our farher, which art in heaven,

hallowed be rhy name!

# A boy is born in hard rime,

Mississippi

# Surrounded by four walls

rhar ain'r so prerry

# His parenrs give him

love and affection

# To keep him srrong

moving in rhe righr direction

# Livin' jusr enough

# Jusr enough for rhe ciry... #

Whar's up, man? Whar's up?

- You seen Garor?

- I haven'r seen him, man.

- He hasn'r passed by here?

- No.

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