Out of Sight Page #17

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EXT. RICHARD RIPLEY'S HOUSE - DAY

It's snowing pretty hard when Foley and Buddy pull up out front.

INT. BUDDY'S CAR - SAME

Buddy wipes the condensation off his window, so they can see

the house.

BUDDY:

Now that's a really big house.

FOLEY:

Jesus, look at that wall. Place almost

looks like a prison.

BUDDY:

No doubt the man's got some big-ass

security system.

FOLEY:

Time comes, we knock on the door. See

if he wants to talk about old times.

Go in the easy way.

BUDDY:

Yeah? You think he'll let us in, we

got Snoopy and the muscle-bound a**hole

with us?

FOLEY:

Who says anybody's gonna be with us?

I say we go to the fights tomorrow,

find out what the Snoop's big plan is,

then go in ahead of those guys --

alone.

BUDDY:

Let Glenn deal with the Snoop, while

we're off livin' the good life.

FOLEY:

Tell me something, Buddy. You know

anyone who's actually done one last

big score and gone to live the good

life? Cause it occurred to me that

everyone talks about doing it, but I

don't know anyone who's actually gone

and done it. Do you?

BUDDY:

(beat)

What about that D.B. Cooper guy?

Foley looks at him.

BUDDY (CONT'D)

I mean, they don't know for sure he's

dead.

(then)

Look, there's always a chance we'll

walk out've there with nothing. I say

let fate decide.

FOLEY:

Let fate decide? What're you, the

f***in' Dali Lama now?

BUDDY:

My sister believes in fate, but not

hell. That's why she stopped praying

for the lost souls since you don't

hear that much about purgatory anymore.

But every day she asks her boss to

pray I don't f*** up. Whatta you think,

you think there's a hell, Jack?

FOLEY:

Yeah, it's called Glades Correctional

Institution and I'm sure as sh*t not

going back there or any place like it.

BUDDY:

You might not have a choice.

Foley looks at him.

BUDDY (CONT'D)

They put a gun on you, you'll go back.

FOLEY:

They put a gun on you, you still have

a choice, don't you?

Foley turns back to the house. And now we hear...

MR. HEARN (VO)

I think you're gonna fit right in...

INT. RIPLEY ENTERPRISES PERSONNEL OFFICE - DAY

The personnel guy, MR. HEARN, sits behind his desk, squeezing a

grip exerciser and smiling warmly at Foley, who wears a shitty

suit and tie.

MR. HEARN

Now Mr Ripley and I have had a long

discussion about your role in the

company and it was his feeling that

you would be happiest working down

here in Miami. How's that sound to

you?

FOLEY:

Great.

Mr. Hearn pauses, looks down at Foley...

MR. HEARN

You're about a 42 long, right?

FOLEY:

What?

But Mr. Hearn walks out without answering. Foley looks at the

desktop, where a spoon sticks out of a half-eaten fruit-on-the-

bottom yogurt, which in turn sits beside a half-eaten Powerbar.

Foley shakes his head, takes out his zippo, starts to play with

it.

MR. HEARN

Okay. Let's see how she fits.

Foley turns as Mr. Hearn bounces back into the room with what

looks like a UNIFORM draped over one arm.

FOLEY:

What is this?

MR. HEARN

Your uniform.

FOLEY:

My what?

Mr. Hearn shows him the yellow patch that reads SECURITY on one

arm. Foley smiles... amused... angry... hurt...

FOLEY (CONT'D)

Are you kidding me?

RICHARD RIPLEY'S OFFICE

View. Wet bar. Huge f***ing aquarium.

RECEPTIONIST (OS)

Sir, you can't go in there...

Ripley looks up from his desk as Foley steps in, the receptionist

right behind him now.

RIPLEY:

Jack? Whoa-- what's the problem?

Take it easy, let's talk...

Meanwhile, Ripley pushes a PANIC BUTTON beneath his desk...

FOLEY:

A security guard? Are you f***ing

kidding me?

Ripley considers Foley a moment, then...

RIPLEY:

You know, I wasn't sure you'd show up.

But I was pretty sure that, if you

did, you'd throw the job in my face.

(then)

Understand something, Jack. Up to

this point, everything you've done

with your life means absolutely nothing

in the real world. Less than nothing.

Foley says nothing.

RIPLEY (CONT'D)

You're a bank robber. This is not a

marketable skill. There are no old

bank robbers out in the world living

on pensions. You know this. That's

why you're here right now.

Still Foley says nothing.

RIPLEY (CONT'D)

Today, I'm offering you a lousy job at

a lousy wage. You think you're better

than that? Fine. Show me. Show me

that you're really willing to change

and we'll talk about something better.

A lot better. But first, Jack, you

gotta earn it.

FOLEY:

How, Dick? The way you earned it? By

marrying some rich broad owns the

company, selling it off a piece at a

time, then divorcing her? What is

this Knute Rockne, pull yourself up by

the bootstraps bullshit? Back in

prison, guy like you, place like that,

you were ice cream for freaks. You

were a goddamn dumpling. Maurice and

a dozen other guys coulda bled you

till you had nothing. Till you were

nothing. I saved your ass. So you'll

pardon me if I don't wanna sit on a

f***in stool all day saying "sign in

here please" or "hey, pal, you can't

park there." Okay, Dick? I can't do

it.

RIPLEY:

Jack, I'm disappointed. I guess I

misjudged you.

Two massive SECURITY GUARDS appear in the doorway...

FOLEY:

Hey, what job he promise you guys?

GUARD:

There's two ways we can do this.

FOLEY:

Yeah? What are they?

RIPLEY:

Gentlemen. I think we've calmed down

now. Haven't we, Jack?

FOLEY:

Oh, yeah, I'm calm. In fact, I'm totally

"relaxed..."

And with that he picks up a paperweight (A LEAD FISH) and wings

it at the aquarium, shattering the glass.

EXT. RIPLEY'S BUILDING - FLORIDA - DAY

As Foley is physically thrown out of the building by the two

guards. He picks himself up. He kicks at the guards, who wave

him off, go back inside.

Foley then starts down the steps, pauses as he sees...

THE BANK ACROSS THE STREET

The one from the opening. Foley looks at it a moment, then

calmly starts to take off his tie, drops it in the gutter as he

starts across the street...

CUT TO:

INT. BUDDY'S CAR - DAY

As Buddy pulls away from the house, Foley pulls out the clipping of

Karen he tore out of the morning paper. He's written the name

"WESTIN" on it.

FOLEY:

Listen, I gotta get some better shoes,

few other things before tomorrow. Why

don't you drop me off at the Ren Cen,

we'll hook up later?

BUDDY:

Yeah, and I better call my sister.

CUT TO:
THE SNOWSTORM

It's really coming down. We then PULL BACK TO REVEAL we're

looking out of a window inside the cocktail lounge at the top of

the Westin.

A table of three young EXECUTIVE-LOOKING GUYS in suits are

laughing at something until Karen is ushered by a WAITRESS to

an adjacent table.

KAREN:

Jack Daniel's, please, water on the

side.

She turns, sees her reflection in the glass against the overcast

sky, snow swirling, blowing in gusts, seven hundred feet above

the city, down there somewhere.

EXECUTIVE GUY'S VOICE

Celeste, do us again, please, and put

the lady's drink on our bill.

She turns to see them raising snifter glasses to her, smiling,

pleasant-looking guys in dark suits.

KAREN:

Thanks anyway.

WAITRESS:

(drifting over)

They want to buy you a drink.

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