Let's Go to Prison Page #3

Master of Puppets.

One money clip.

I'd like to room

with Biederman.

Empty. Cell number 433.

Sign right there.

Can I get my old sh*t?

Give it to him.

JOHN:

So fate, with a little help

from every last nickel I had,

threw me into a cell

with the esteemed

Nelson Biederman IV.

Today is the first day

of the rest

of my beautiful life.

People think

they can't imagine

what it feels like

to be in prison.

It's easy.

You know that

bolt of fear you get

when you see a cop's

flashing red lights

in your rear view?

It makes you dizzy and

kind of sick to your stomach.

Now imagine feeling that

24 hours a day

while you're surrounded

by convicted killers

who feel the exact same way.

It'd kind of put you

on edge, huh?

Well, that's life

in the machine.

Nobody's here to relax,

and once you're in,

there's only one

quick way out.

In a body bag.

MAN 1:
Dead man rolling!

MAN 2:
Dead man rolling!

Wait...

Well, be it ever so humble.

I'll just

take the top.

It doesn't seem like

they cleaned this toilet up.

It's disgusting.

MAN 1:
Hey, bro, hold it.

You got two minutes.

(CRYING)

MAN 2:
You want in on it?

Come on. What we got here?

Look, amigo, if you're

gonna make it in here,

you better smarten up.

Those pricks out there

see you like this,

you won't make it a week.

You don't wanna die

in your first week,

do you?

(SOBBING) No.

Right.

So you got to trust me.

Do what I do.

Just keep your mouth shut

and try not to cry.

It's all right to cry.

Crying takes the sad

out of you.

"Crying takes the sad

out of you"?

Hey, that sh*t may

have flown back when

you were a human being,

but you're not now.

You're a piece of meat

and you're in the grinder.

The softer you are,

the more it's gonna

grind you up,

and the more them animals

are gonna wanna eat you.

All right,

you gotta toughen up.

Show me your tough face.

Show me Nelson's

tough face.

Jesus, you look like you're

going to take a sh*t,

or something.

Hey, John.

How you doing?

Same Lyshitski,

different day.

Got some mail for you.

Bit backed up.

Couple weeks.

Who's the new guy?

That is Nelson Biederman IV.

He got to take

a sh*t or something?

JOHN:
No, he's trying

to look like bad meat.

Yeah.

Okay.

MAN 3:
Now keep it quiet

down there.

Look at this,

we can order out.

MAN 4:
I need some

toilet paper, what's up?

MAN 5:
Well, we got to you.

So now what do we do?

Hmm?

What do you mean?

What do I mean?

I mean, what are we...

What are we supposed to do?

We're doing it, man.

This is it.

We're right in

the thick of the action.

We hang out here,

go to lunch,

come back, hang out some more,

go to dinner.

You know how someone

might describe a situation

that's unpleasant or confining

as being "like a prison"?

Yeah.

This is what

they were referring to.

MAN 6:
CIlate la boca!

JOHN:
It costs $54 a day

to keep a person in prison,

which comes out to

$75 million a day nationally.

That's $28 billion a year.

When you think about it,

wouldn't it be cheaper

just to let us keep

your goddamn car stereos?

What's on the menu today,

good sir?

That's meat.

That ain't meat.

Ain't meat.

Hit me with some meat.

MAN:
Hey, come on,

hurry up.

Great American

melting pot.

You know,

20%% of all prisoners

aren't even US citizens?

About 10%% are Mexican,

2%% Colombian.

I can't

tell the difference.

How do you know

all this stuff, John?

I'm on a lot of

weird mailing lists.

See those bad asses

over there?

They're the White Kingdom.

They pretty much

run the roost.

He who controls the smack,

controls the joint,

and by "he," I mean him.

Lynard.

Don't be fooled, though.

Underneath all those swastikas

he's a real prick.

MAN 1:
Hey, hey.

You ain't gonna

eat that, right?

At exactly 12:
15,

stand up.

Why?

Just do it.

It's kind of a prank.

Oh.

We used to

do this sort of thing

all the time at prep school.

A couple of the boys

wanted to put one over

on old Professor LaRoche.

(CHUCKLING)

At exactly

the appointed minute,

all the boys would

push their books

down onto the floor.

Old LaRoche almost

had a heart attack...

Oh, sh*t. Not the face.

Not the face!

(SCREAMING)

Break it up!

Break it up!

You, fish,

who started this sh*t?

(GROANING)

Leave it alone.

(SCREAMS)

He did.

All right, Lynard,

you're going to the hole.

Lunch is over, ladies,

hit the showers! Move it!

That's gotta be the stupidest

goddamn thing I've ever seen.

Never narc on somebody.

I mean,

haven't you seen

any prison movies?

You told me to.

Yeah. I didn't mean

for you to tell the truth.

You're dead, and I'll probably

gonna get kicked in the teeth

just for talking to you.

I'm sorry.

Okay.

Listen, from now on you do

exactly as I say. Exactly.

Okay?

Okay.

Just remember,

number one rule in prison,

always look out

for your cellmate.

JOHN:
Remember,

the number one rule in prison,

never trust anybody.

Of all the fears

men have about prison,

loss of liberty,

eating bad food,

claustrophobia, Ioneliness,

none of them compare

to the prospect of

being f***ed up the ass.

So,

what's a beautiful

white boy like you

doing in a place

like this?

Three to five.

Soft time, huh?

Yeah.

I like soft things.

You know,

like, soft music,

maybe a soft

little baby duck

on Easter morning.

You like little baby ducks?

Hey, back the hell off,

Barry.

He's my b*tch.

Hey, Lyshitski,

how's it hanging?

Little to the right,

I see.

Hey, he's my property,

dickmonster.

You guys got that?

This little filly's all mine.

You can look,

but don't touch.

Juliet's a**hole's got

one name stenciled on it.

Mine.

Romeo. Romeo Lyshitski.

Capisce, amigos?

No rear entry.

That goes for you.

That big bastard's

the head of the Black G-Lords.

I don't mean to sound

ungrateful, John,

but did you have to stick

your finger up my ass?

No. Probably not.

But it happened.

You've gotta get me

out of here. Now!

Before I become

b*tch du jour for

one of the G-Lords.

I don't care how much

it costs. I want out.

Well, that's just it,

Mr. Biederman,

you don't have any money.

What're you talking about?

I have millions.

Well, the Foundation does,

yes,

but legally,

you have no access

to the Foundation's funds

unless you are chairman,

which you are no longer.

My father started

the Biederman Foundation.

My name is Nelson Biederman!

You can't fire me!

Actually, according to

the Foundation's charter,

we were required to.

So, without Foundation funds,

you don't have a dime.

Unless you've been working

a paper route on the side.

(LAUGHING)

I'm so sorry.

That's why I brought you

a Fresca.

MAN 1:
Hey, hey. Sit down.

After all,

we are a charity.

So here. Just lean in.

Go ahead.

GUARD:
No food or drinks!

Oh.

Ouch.

I'm sorry, Mr. Biederman.

MAN 2:
Hurry it up.

A lot of people waiting.

(SLURPING)

Duane!

(AIN'T THAT A KICK IN THE HEAD

PLAYING)

(CHUCKLING)

Thank you

for the pencil, John.

No problem.

Found it in the shitter.

Rate this script:2.0 / 1 vote