Nadine Page #3

of a time to stop!

(POLICE RADIO CHATTERING)

Hang on, darlin'.

(NADINE EXCLAIMING)

(TIRES SCREECHING)

(WHOOPING)

(GUN FIRING)

(NADINE SCREAMING)

(CRICKETS CHIRPING)

You mind tellin' me what the

hell was goin' on back there?

Well, sort of like this.

One of the girls

down at the shop,

and don't ask who it is,

'cause I ain't gonna

tell ya.

Anyway, this guy Escobar

took some, uh, pic...

I mean, some

art studies of her...

What you mean

is this old boy talked her

into posin' bare-ass for

a bunch of pictures?

And that b*tch's ass

is not all they've done.

Vernon Hightower,

you got a dirty mind.

For your information,

Mr. Escobar was in the Army

with Hugh Hefner of Playboy

magazine fame.

How about that?

He pulled that one on her?

He didn't pull nothin'.

I knew those gals in the shop

wasn't the smartest things

in the world,

but I did give 'em

more credit than that.

And I'll bet you,

that she's got

a husband

that's even dumber

than she is.

Hmm.

Are you tellin' me that

we nearly got ourselves

killed...

I swear,

I never saw anything

like the way you drove that

car tonight, Vernon. Never.

Uh, mostly luck.

I mean, the way you went

90 miles an hour backwards,

without gettin' us killed.

And then you

stopped the damn car.

I couldn't believe it.

"Goddamn, Vernon, what

a hell of a time to stop!"

I didn't say it like that.

(CHUCKLING)

Yeah, you did.

I did not.

Here I am,

sittin' around

like we was still...

(SIGHS) Listen,

you can't drive

the Ford on account of

the police

will be lookin' for it.

Oh, no, okay, I won't.

I know this,

this old boy

who owes me a favor

and I'll take it over

and have him paint it.

That'd be real nice.

I guess

I'd better be goin'.

You're lookin' real good.

(CLEARS THROAT)

No, I mean,

you know, it looks like,

you're eatin' real good.

Not too much or anything.

(STUTTERING)

What I mean is

that you look

real good.

You look real good, too.

Real good.

Well, I better

get on my horse.

Renee's gonna

be kinda worried.

Well, here.

Let me get you

some ice, okay?

I'll be right back.

(SIGHS)

Ugh.

(SIGHS)

Oh, boy.

Hmm.

(EXCLAIMING)

(CAR DOOR CLOSING)

(CAR ENGINE STARTING)

(SIGHING)

(SNIFFLING)

It don't do no

good to cry whatsoever,

so you might as well quit.

(SIGHS)

It does you no good to

talk to yourself either.

(SCREAMING)

(THUNDER RUMBLING)

(FROGS CROAKING)

BUFORD:
Reverend,

I told you the last time

you were in this place

that I would not,

I repeat, not tolerate

any handlin' of snakes

on this premises.

(SNAKES RATTLING)

What the holy hell

is this?

Sir, we'd surely be grateful

if you wasn't to make

them mad.

What I mean is, that way

they ain't gonna be no

use to anybody.

Listen to me, you pinhead.

I'm gonna keep this box

right here in my office

under lock and key

until you pissants

are out of town.

Now get out!

(SNAKES RATTLING)

Miss Hightower,

I'm Buford Pope.

Would you please come in?

(DOOR CLOSING)

I want to apologize

for bringin' you here in

this crude and vulgar way,

but how come a nice

girl like you would let

a low-life like Ray Escobar

take some indecent pictures

of her?

Believe me,

I'm startin'

to regret it.

Nadine... You don't mind

if I call you Nadine,

do you?

Nadine, I've got reason to

believe that you were at

Ray Escobar's today,

lookin' for

these photographs.

I've also got

reason to believe

that you've come across

somethin' else while

you were there.

And I'm just about positive

that whatever it was that

you found,

it belongs to me.

Now, is it possible

that you have

that somethin' else

we're talkin' about on you?

Well, I might.

Floyd?

(SNAKES RATTLING)

Nadine,

we've got ourselves

a little problem.

(DOGS BARKING)

(DOORBELL RINGING)

(MUSIC PLAYING)

Why, you miserable

son of a b*tch.

You got some nerve

showin' up here.

If I wasn't otherwise

occupied right now,

I'd come out there,

and I'd whip your butt.

I swear... Dwight,

I don't see

why you're so hot under

the collar there, pard...

You owe me $450,

not countin' legal fees

of $370 and change.

You're lucky I don't

get the sheriff on you.

Yeah, Dwight?

I'm your own family.

Don't that count

for somethin'?

We are third cousins

once removed, period.

My mother

does not remember ever

layin' eyes on your daddy.

Well, I just thought

I'd come by to tell you

that your third cousin

once removed is gonna

be a jillionaire.

I just thought

you might want

to know that.

Vernon, you don't

have diddly-squat.

You owe me

$820 plus interest,

the bank is about to foreclose

on that chicken sh*t bar

of yours,

and now you're talkin'

about bein' a jillionaire.

Har-de-har-har.

(GRUNTS)

Where'd you

get this thing?

You wouldn't happen to have

a cold beer in the icebox,

would you?

I'll lay odds you didn't get

a hold of this by legal means.

I ought to

call the police.

You do that, pard.

WOMAN:
Sweetheart?

Hey! Good for you, cousin.

(CLEARS THROAT)

How much you figure

land along that highway's

gonna be worth an acre, hmm?

A lot.

That sounds reasonable.

I figure, right now

it can't be worth more

than $500 to $600 an acre.

A few

thousand dollars

in the right place,

I might end up

with enough money to get

the Blue Bonnet on her feet.

Then watch my dust.

Can I have my

picture back,

please?

Now, Vernon,

that ain't gonna do

you the least bit of good

unless you can

afford to buy the land.

You don't have

a pot to piss in.

Well, that's why

I've come to see you.

I figured, with you being

a fancy lawyer and everything,

you might have some

designs in that direction.

Well, I'll tell you what.

You let me have

the rest of those maps,

I'll see how much cash

I can raise,

and whatever profit I make,

I'll cut you in for sure.

How about that?

Hmm.

No.

No, I don't think so.

Damn.

Let's try this on for size.

You're a lawyer,

you call up some of

your rich friends

and raise,

mmm, let's say, $50,000.

Then I'll let you

have these photos.

WOMAN:
Dwight, hon?

I'll be right in, darlin'.

Vernon, this better not be

another one of your swindles.

Hey, Dwight, I swear,

this time everything's

strictly on the up and up.

(SIGHING)

No, sir. I ain't

telling you where Vernon is.

You can

break my arms, my legs,

it won't do a bit of good.

(RATTLESNAKES RATTLING)

The only Vernon Hightower

I know

runs a dump out

on South Lamar called

the Blue Bonnet Lounge.

He ain't the one.

Why don't you boys

go out there and

pick him up?

Don't shoot him,

unless you have to.

(VERNON WHISTLING)

(MUSIC PLAYING)

Good evening there, Boyd.

Sorry I'm late.

How's business?

Not so hot,

Mr. Hightower.

We only took in $6

in change so far tonight.

Well, that's all right.

I got a feelin' we're about to

turn a financial corner here

any minute.

You want a beer? Hmm?

Sure.

(LAUGHS) You know,

I've been thinkin'.

You know what we

need around this place?

A new sign.

Somethin' in neon.

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