Made Page #19

RICKY:

A rose by any other name would --

RUIZ:

(changing the subject)

Come here, there's someone I want

you to meet. You like big tiddies?

WELSHMAN:

Well, who doesn't?

They walk off. Ruiz sneaks a glare.

CUT TO:

INT. LIMOUSINE - IN FRONT OF SPA - 13TH STREET - NIGHT

Ricky and Bobby are being lectured by Ruiz, who sits across

from them next to Horrace.

RUIZ:

What the f*** was you told? Don't

talk, right?

RICKY:

Unless spoken to, ain't that right,

Horrace. Didn't you say that?

HORRACE:

Don't drag my ass into this --

RICKY:

He spoke to me. You want me to dis

him?

RUIZ:

'Dis?' 'Dis?' You're not in a position

to 'dis', or 'give props', or whatever

your Real World sense of f***ing

decorum tells you to do. You're

nothing. You're wallpaper. You're

not here to make f***ing friends.

Asking a motherf***er where he lives.

And who the f*** told you 'Red

Dragon'?.

BOBBY:

We get it. We're sorry.

RUIZ:

Now that Limey motherf***er's jumpy

and wants to change sh*t around on

me. Maxie's gonna sh*t a Nokia when

he hears about... Aw, sh*t, I better

call him before he hears.

Ruiz pulls out his cell phone and steps out, slamming the

door.

HORRACE:

I'm not saying sh*t to neither of

you.

RICKY:

Why? What I say bad?

HORRACE:

What the f***, 'Red Dragon?'

RICKY:

What? Why am I bad?

BOBBY:

How bad is it?

HORRACE:

It's bad. Before you even showed up,

he said you were Maxie's 'token

goons', and not to be trusted. He

wanted to TCB alone. I was gonna

ride shotgun to keep the English

dude above board. Now he's spooked.

This sh*t's snowballing.

BOBBY:

When's it going down?

HORRACE:

Was gonna be tomorrow morning. Now,

who knows?

BOBBY:

Sh*t.

Outside, Ruiz starts his bike. Horrace slides out.

HORRACE:

See you later.

RICKY:

You really in trouble?

HORRACE:

Stop.

RICKY:

I'll tell him someone else told me.

HORRACE:

Just don't ask me no more sh*t.

Horrace closes the door and starts his bike. They ride off.

BOBBY:

You happy?

RICKY:

About what?

BOBBY:

Why you gotta make everything

difficult?

RICKY:

You too?

BOBBY:

Yeah, me too. You're a f***ing bull

in a china shop.

RICKY:

F*** this.

He opens the door.

BOBBY:

Where do you think you're going?

RICKY:

Back in.

BOBBY:

You f***ing nuts?

RICKY:

Work's over. I'm gonna party.

BOBBY:

You can't go in there. They know

you're with Ruiz.

RICKY:

You got that right.

BOBBY:

F*** you. Go then. I'm taking the

car.

RICKY:

Fine.

Ricky walks past the line with a handshake. Bobby sits,

staring forward.

JIMMY:

Where to?

CUT TO:

INT. VIP AREA - SPA - NIGHT

Ricky sits in their booth surrounded by young hot GOLD

DIGGERS. Two WOMEN are already part of the fun: BIANCA and

CYNTHIA, who we will get to later. They are dressed Manhattan

fabulous. Bobby approaches, a wet blanket on two legs.

RICKY:

Look who's back? Want some champagne?

BOBBY:

(to waitress)

Do not put this on Ruiz's tab. Start

a new one.

RICKY:

Damn right. Bring us two bottles of

Dom Champs and here, take fifty in

case I call you b*tch later when I'm

drunk.

(she goes)

Siddown, motherf***er.

(he pours him a glass

and toasts)

'Sex and paychecks.'

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