Out Cold
Hey, everybody.
Welcome to Bull Mountain...
a slice of heaven...
nestled in the cleavage
of Alaska's high country.
It all started when a young
saw the promise
of a new life...
the old-fashioned way--
he stole it from the Eskimos.
'Round these parts,
Each year,
by droppin' his britches....
and blazing down
that mountain bare-assed....
in one of his famous
"moon-shine" runs.
Papa loved to ski...
and Papa loved to drink...
but most of all,
Papa loved to ski and drink...
at the same time.
Last year,
he died with his boots on...
Bull Mountain,
don't go changin'!
And not much else.
Nowadays, Papa's boy
runs the mountain.
the free-wheelin' spirit...
of Papa's life.
You could say that this
mountain's a lot like a woman.
Just when you think you
know every inch of her...
and you're about
to dip your skis...
into some soft, deep powder--
You got two broke legs,
cracked ribs...
then you pay
your twenty bucks...
just to let her punch your
lift ticket all over again.
News flash.
Muntz is selling the mountain.
The entire mountain?
Why would he want
to get rid of this place?
I like this place
exactly the way it is.
Maybe the buyer can supply...
the mountain
with what it really needs--
hot friggin' chicks.
Guys, you know, more girls?
Let's give Lance a chance,
all right?
Jenny, what's going on?
Jenny!
What's up, guys?
What, are you drinking
without me?
Hey, Lance.
Hey, girlfriend.
What you drinkin'?
Whatever the lady would like,
just put it on my tab.
I will have a beer, then.
And five shots of Goldschlager,
please.
Rick, you are an idiot
not to go for Jenny...
and don't give me
Are you sniffing me?
There you go.
Thank you.
Man. If I was her...
I'd be gettin' with every dude
on this mountain.
Hey, boys.
You're killin' me!
Cheers, everybody!
People.
And Pig Pen,
my poor excuse for a brother.
Our boy Rick here...
has been bitching
and moaning all week long...
I have not.
And I think it's time
that we do something...
to cheer him up.
Don't you agree?
Perhaps tonight is the night
that we crown this year's...
King of the Mountain.
Did somebody just say...
King of the Mountain?
I know you want
to defend your title.
If I must.
Good evening.
You all know the rules
of King of the Mountain.
Rule number one--
you do not talk about
King of the Mountain.
Rule number two--
there are no rules.
That's more of a guideline
than a rule.
Do not interrupt!
And now, the three-peat champion
of King of the Mountain...
Rick Rambis. Richard?
OK. Here's how it works.
Everyone must have a beer.
It's a race to the bottom.
The first one
to the statue of Papa Muntz...
with the most beer
in your glass--Pig Pen--
shall be proclaimed this year's
King of the Mountain.
And, as an added bonus...
you also win the contents
of Eric's stolen wallet...
which are, Luke?
Two bucks...
a condom...
expiration date 1 997...
and a picture
of his grandma--no!
That's Nancy Reagan.
But most importantly...
pushing, shoving,
and cheating are encouraged.
Try not to wipe out
like you did last year...
and the year before,
Thanks, Luke,
I really appreciate that.
No problem.
Pig Pen, if you would.
Strap 'em in.
On your marks, get set--
Everybody ready?
Go!
-Suckers!
-Cheater!
Not tonight, Pig Pen!
Go grand, Anthony!
Don't wipe out.
Here I come, baby!
Damn!
Coming through.
Get away from my head!
Stop!
Hey, no fair!
Nice!
Sh*t!
Ride 'em, cowboy!
Go!
Let's move it!
Don't let him pass!
We got him, Jenny!
Go!
Come on! We're gonna beat him!
Where did he come from?
His mug's empty.
The beer!
Beer? I got beer! I got it!
Come on!
If you haven't kissed up
to the king, let me know.
Goin' to drink, everybody!
Actually, I have to turn in.
I have to give Mr. Mays
a snowboard lesson.
I got fag practice in
the morning, so I understand.
Walk me home, Your Highness.
Guys, stop!
If you're planning
on coming up...
with some lame-ass excuse
to get into my house...
just so we can "hook up"...
I might let you.
Not that you're being...
particularly charming
or anything.
I guess it's the moonlight
and a bottle of Goldschlager...
that just brings out
the romance in a girl.
Can I ask you something?
You broke up with your boyfriend
this summer, right?
Are we about to have
another conversation...
about how you're still
on the rebound?
I guess not.
Look, Rick, I feel for you,
'cause I've been through it...
but it's time to move on.
The general rule of thumb
is one week of mourning...
for every six months
you were together...
so you were together,
what, two weeks?
Three weeks.
OK. Three weeks.
So, then that means--
I get it. You're right.
It's stupid.
Yes, it is.
So, you still want to hook up?
You gotta try a lot harder
than that, Rick.
So, you still want to hook up?
How's that?
Good night.
Good night.
-See you tomorrow.
-Later.
Hey, listen.
You better enjoy your reign as
King now, because next year...
I'm Queen of the Mountain, baby.
We'll see about that.
Passed out again.
Fire!
Well, boys,
what's it gonna be tonight?
Passe. Done that, took pictures.
I'm gonna need a bucket,
a paint brush...
and ten pounds of salt.
Lance, get his pants.
Where are you taking him?
Come on!
Try to hold up his fat ass.
Look at him.
Shoo!
Get!
Good boy--I mean, girl.
Good girl.
My ass is numb!
Look alive, Eric.
John Majors!
Ted Muntz. It's so good
to finally meet you in person.
Welcome to Bull Mountain.
have a saying--
Slow down there, Nanook.
You're gonna give yourself
an aneurysm.
Will you smell that, boys?
Smells like money.
This place has got
some serious potential.
I can see it now, huh?
Can't you see it?
Condominiums, eateries,
shopping, wine bars, cigar bars.
What the hell--bar bars!
Yeah, we can totally sell
This is a diamond in the rough.
That's good.
Write that down
for the brochure.
No, wait. Better yet--
"Black diamond in the rough."
You know? Sort of a ski thing.
I'm Eric Montclair.
Well, who asked you?
Just kidding, Short Stack.
So it's some mountain, huh?
Yeah,
but the name "Bull Mountain"--
it's a little too...
shitty.
You want to rename the mountain?
Yeah. Something good.
I'm gonna have
to polish this turd...
if I want to sell
my investors on it.
I mean, your hotel
looks like a Motel 6...
ate a yard sale
and barfed it out.
Muntz, there's some
really pissed off Eskimos...
outside right now, man. They
say they want their land back.
Very funny, Rambis.
Mr. Majors,
this is Rick Rambis--
one of our low
to mid-level employees.
You must be the big hotshot
Translation
Translate and read this script in other languages:
Select another language:
- - Select -
- 简体中文 (Chinese - Simplified)
- 繁體中文 (Chinese - Traditional)
- Español (Spanish)
- Esperanto (Esperanto)
- 日本語 (Japanese)
- Português (Portuguese)
- Deutsch (German)
- العربية (Arabic)
- Français (French)
- Русский (Russian)
- ಕನ್ನಡ (Kannada)
- 한국어 (Korean)
- עברית (Hebrew)
- Gaeilge (Irish)
- Українська (Ukrainian)
- اردو (Urdu)
- Magyar (Hungarian)
- मानक हिन्दी (Hindi)
- Indonesia (Indonesian)
- Italiano (Italian)
- தமிழ் (Tamil)
- Türkçe (Turkish)
- తెలుగు (Telugu)
- ภาษาไทย (Thai)
- Tiếng Việt (Vietnamese)
- Čeština (Czech)
- Polski (Polish)
- Bahasa Indonesia (Indonesian)
- Românește (Romanian)
- Nederlands (Dutch)
- Ελληνικά (Greek)
- Latinum (Latin)
- Svenska (Swedish)
- Dansk (Danish)
- Suomi (Finnish)
- فارسی (Persian)
- ייִדיש (Yiddish)
- հայերեն (Armenian)
- Norsk (Norwegian)
- English (English)
Citation
Use the citation below to add this screenplay to your bibliography:
Style:MLAChicagoAPA
"Out Cold" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 22 Nov. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/out_cold_15418>.
Discuss this script with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In