Lethal Weapon Page #2

RIGGS:

And if I separated the fat one's

shoulder... he'd probably scream...

No doubt about it. We know from the look in Riggs' eyes

he's nuts. He wants the fight, badly, all four of them

at once ...

And then Punk #1 springs...

Big mistake.

Needless to say, mincemeat is made of the four meddlesome

dog-torturers.

The beach is littered with their writhing forms as Riggs

does, finally, what he set out to do:

Unties the dog.

Starts to go.

As he does, he pats his shirt ...

Pats his jeans ... Realizes his wallet has flown free

during the fracas.

Scoops to retrieve it from its resting place on the sand,

where it lies open, and as it lies open, yes, folks, that

is a badge we see.

Riggs, we realize, is an officer of the law.

He lights a cigarette and notices the collie, seated.

Frowns:

RIGGS:

Okay, skeezix. Go on. Get outta

here.

He begins to walk away. The dog remains close at his

heels. Following him.

RIGGS:

No, no. Don't follow me. I'm an

a**hole. Go away.

The dog sits obediently and Riggs walks away.

He can't help it, looks back over his shoulder...

Sees the dog watching him with a beseeching expression.

Pitiful.

RIGGS:

Aw, sh*t.

He signals the dog.

RIGGS:

Awright. Move it. Let's go.

The COLLIE BARKS happily and dashes toward him through

the surf, kicking up sand and water.

As they shuffle off against the palm-lined skyline, we

hear, supered, Riggs' voice.

RIGGS (V.O.)

So. You live in the area? What's

your major ... ?

And so on as we ...

CUT TO:

2 OMITTED 2

thru thru

4D 4D

5 EXT. MURTAUGH'S HOUSE - PRE-DAWN 5

Palm trees cast shadows on the lawn. Toys, lots of them,

littered across the lawn. A Big Wheel, a G.I. Joe figure.

Christmas lights are strung across the eaves.

CUT TO:

6 INT. HOUSE - BATHROOM SAME 6

A real gun, a .38 Police Special, dangling in its holster

from the back of a chair. Next to it -- A real

badge, gleaming in the light. It identifies its owner

as LAPD Robbery/Homicide.

7 ANOTHER ANGLE 7

A birthday cake comes INTO FRAME. A set of matronly

hands places it directly in front of -

8 DETECTIVE ROGER MURTAUGH 8

Seated in the bathtub. He groans, throws a towel over

himself, and mutters in mock indignation: Roger is

tough:
An old-fashioned fighter, wears his past like a

scar. Piercing eyes; cynical. He is surrounded by his

family; wife and three children, names and ages as

follows:
TRISH: Roughly thirty-eight. She used to be a

stunner. NICK:
Ten years old. Precocious. CARRIE:

Age seven. Eyes like saucers. Adorable. RIANNE:

Heartbreaker stuff, Seventeen. Takes your breath away

folks. The cake is a real beauty.

CARRIE:

Make a wish, Daddy.

RIANNE:

Go for it, Dad.

MURTAUGH:

(smiles)

Go for it, huh...? Okay, I'll

go for it.

He blows out the candles. Applause. His gaze lingers

on -- the cake. Or rather, the message scrawled atop it

in icing:
WELCOME TO THE BIG 50

The presents arrive.

CUT TO:

9 EXT. SIMI VALLEY - MORNING 9

The scorched landscape stretches out beneath a latticework

of high-tension power lines. only scrub grass

grows here. Rusted railroad tracks wander into the distance,

and nestled beside them, like the last stop before

death -- sits a lonely trailer home. Battered TV

antenna. A dirt yard which houses a beat-up pickup

truck. Dead garden sprouting weeds. The ground begins

to tremble ... like an earthquake, RATTLING the POWER

POLES, as, without warning -- An express TRAIN BLASTS

BY CAMEPA and streaks past the trailer at seventy miles

an hour.

10 INT. TRAILER HOME 10

Now we are inside, the RUMBLING FAINTER ... And we are

looking at a tired, chiseled face. Etched with line and

shadow. Eyes closed, as the shadows from the speeding

train strobe across DETECTIVE SERGEANT MARTIN RIGGS.

Morning is not a good time for Riggs. The CLOCK RADIO

suddenly BLARES to life: "Silver Belllls ... It's

Christmas Tiiime in the City..." Riggs snaps awake

instantly. Alert. Tense. Face bathed in sweat.

11 ANOTHER ANGLE

He is not alone. In the doorway sits a thoroughly

loveable black Labrador. Sitting stock still. Star3.ng

at Riggs, watching him sleep. Tail going thump-thumpthump

on the carpet.

Riggs sits up. Stares at the dog.

RIGGS:

Sam, today is the first day ...

of the rest of my life.

He lights a cigarette.

Coughs and hacks.

Inhales.

The TRAIN THROBS by outside, rattling his skull ...

CUT TO:

12 INT. MURTAUGH HOME - SAME TIME 12

And it is a typical morning for Detective Roger Murtaugh.

Chaos. The TELEVISION BLARES. Young Carrie Murtaugh

wails like a banshee. Her brother Nick tells her to

shut up. Trish Murtaugh is burning eggs in the kitchen.

Roger Murtaugh enters then, fixing his tie. The following

dialogue is fast and furious, tossed over the shoulder

as Murtaugh scurries to and fro, getting dressed:

MURTAUGH:

Honey, what's this on my tie?

She looks.

TRISH:

An ugly spot?

MURTAUGH:

Thanks. Sharp as a pin.

TRISH:

I'm thinking of going on 'Jeopardy.'

MURTAUGH:

Don't take any questions on cooking.

TRISH:

Thanks. I love you, too.

Carrie is still shrieking. Tears stream down her face.

MURTAUGH:

Hey, kid, turn off the waterworks,

okay?

CARRIE:

(points to Nick)

Daddy, he changed the channel!

MURTAUGH:

NOOOOOO.

NICK:

She's a crybaby, Dad.

MURTAUGH:

Mind your own busines.

(nods toward the TV)

That's illegal.

NICK:

What's illegal?

MURTAUGH:

Can't put a dead body in an

ambulance. This 'Kojak'?

NICK:

'Starsky and Hutch.'

MURTAUGH:

Huh. It's illegal. Never put a

dead body in an ambulance, son,

you got that?

NICK:

Sure, Dad.

MURTAUGH:

Honey, where's the spot remover?

(turns to Carrie)

Young lady, stop crying or I'll

give you something to cry about.

Damn.

He dabs at his tie. Carrie screams. In the kitchen

Trish drops the eggs, swears. The PHONE RINGS. Carrie

screams.

MURTAUGH:

That's it. I'm gonna give you

something to cry about.

He grabs a copy of Newsweek and hands it to her.

MURTAUGH:

Starving children. See? They

haven't eaten, it's very sad.

Cry.

He moves away.

CARRIE:

Daddy, you're weird ...

MURTAUGH:

Thank you, Carrie. Hear that,

honey, the children think I'm

weird.

TRISH:

They're bright children.

(hangs up the

telephone)

Honey, you know a man named Dick

Lloyd? Don't step in the egg.

MURTAUGH:

Where's my thinking? I should've

checked the floor for egg. Dick

Lloyd ... ?

(beat)

Jesus, Dick Lloyd. What's he want?

TRISH:

The office called. He's been

trying to reach you for three days

now.

MURTAUGH:

I haven't talked to him in... sh*t,

twelve years? No, wait a minute,

that would make me fifty years old,

that can't be right.

TRISH:

(smiles)

You're not getting older, you're

getting better.

MURTAUGH:

Inform the children of this.

(kisses her; heads

for the door)

Forget the eggs, I'll eat later.

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