Reindeer Games Page #14

RUDY:

I don't know.

GABRIEL:

The hell you don't.

RUDY:

(sighs, a guess)

Five million?

GABRIEL:

You wrote Ash that letter, you told

her that story 'bout working Christmas

Eve, bout how they'd send half the

security guys home, nobody comin, in

that night. And the rest of you got

sh*t-faced drinking hot buttered

rum. That a true story now?

RUDY:

Christmas... Eve...

GABRIEL:

You know where the guards are. You

know how to get in and out. You know

where the money is.

(nods)

We're taking down that casino,

convict. You're the guy gonna tell

us how.

Rudy turns slightly pale.

RUDY:

Hey, it's... been two years --

GABRIEL:

We got faith in you, Nick Mason.

(smiles)

You're our inside man.

INT. TRUCK STOP BATHROOM - NIGHT

Rudy slams in, letting the door smack shut behind him. It's

a tiny windowless closet. Rudy kicks a stall door, pacing.

RUDY:

...goddamn it, Rudy... goddamn it...

goddamn girl, goddamn Nick... you're

so smart, so f***ing smart...

He stalks a circle, grabs a sink, and stares at his reflection

in the mirror. He looks a wreck. He settles down.

RUDY:

Where's your Christmas dinner now...

INT. TRUCK STOP - MOMENTS LATER

A COUPLE leaves the booth behind Gabriel's crew. Pug and

Merlin reach over, steal their leftovers and dig in. Ashley

fidgets.

Jumpy regards the garlands painted on the windows beside:

JUMPY:

I've read where the retail industry

does fifty percent of its business

between December 1st and December

25th. Half the year's business, in

one month's time. It seems to me an

intelligent society would legislate

a second such gift-giving holiday,

create, say, a Christmas Two -- late

May, early June -- to further

stimulate growth and prosperity. For

who would protest such a holiday?

Taking the fifty percent model, a

Christmas Two would grow this

country's annual per capita income

by close to one-third.

Everyone stares at Jumpy.

GABRIEL:

Christmas Two.

The Indian nods. Gabriel shakes his head.

GABRIEL:

Ever since you started night school,

you been givin, me headaches, Jumpy.

Headaches.

(to Merlin/Pug)

Go see what's taking him.

INT. BATHROOM - SAME

Rudy crouches behind the door, a piece of iron pipe in his

grip, ready to strike. Listening... listening...

AS the door SLAMS open, swinging fast and BASHING him in the

head.

Rudy tags the floor, drops the pipe, knocked out.

Merlin and Pug gaze down on him, shaking their heads. Pug

spits tobacco. Hits Merlin's boots again.

INT. TRUCK STOP - MOMENTS LATER

Rudy's back, with a new facial bruise. Ashley reaches for

his hand; he pulls it away. Gabriel unfolds a piece of paper --

it's a crude map.

GABRIEL:

Here ya go, convict. We cased the

place in the fall, got the layout

down. What you're gonna do is show

us where each of these doors go,

what the upstairs level looks like,

where they got the alarms, all of

it.

MERLIN:

And where they hide the real money.

Merlin exhales some smoke in Pug's face. Pug hacks, shoves

him.

GABRIEL:

And Nick? If you even think about

setting us up, giving us some bad

information? We go down... you go

down...

(lets it settle)

Now. Christmas Eve. How many guards

are there gonna be?

Rudy surveys the table. All five waiting for him. Sighs.

RUDY:

Hell. Ten?

GABRIEL:

And which of these doors here lead

up to the security level?

Gabriel passes the map across the table. Rudy stares at it.

MERLIN:

Start talking, Nick.

Rudy's still staring.

PUG:

Start talkin

RUDY:

Who the hell made this map.

GABRIEL:

What?

RUDY:

I said, who the hell made the map?

GABRIEL:

I did.

RUDY:

This isn't the Tomahawk.

GABRIEL:

What the f*** are you talking about.

RUDY:

This is the front entrance, right?

You get through the slots, you hit

craps here, not blackjack. Blackjack's

here to here -- lined up. What's

this, the cage? Cage is over there,

hard to get to, you got it all mixed

around --

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