Roadgames Page #4

Year:
1981
324 Views


- According to this logbook,

you should have had a

12 hour stop over two days ago.

You don't have much respect

for the law, do ya, mate?

Well, if that young lady you

shacked up with last night

has come to any harm, we'll

know exactly who to talk to.

Won't we?

- It wasn't me.

Now, if you don't believe me

you can talk to the manager

of the motel.

- How long you had that dingo?

- Four or five years, why?

(engine rumbling)

- What's the matter?

Didn't they believe you?

- Believe me?

I'm lucky they

didn't shoot Boswell.

- Did you tell them

about our little friend?

" Who?

What?

- [Hitch] The guy in the van.

The guy...

' [Quid] I beg your pardon?

- Oh, I get it.

You know what this

means, don't you?

We're just gonna have

to get him ourselves.

- Oh, sure.

Elementary, my dear Watson.

Except our friend in the

van could be all the way

to Perth or Timbuktu for

all we know.

- I don't get you, first, you

tell everybody this story,

and now you don't want

to do a damn thing about it.

- No, not today.

- Why not today?

- Look, Hitch.

I'm not trying to lay a trip

on you, but we gotta pull

over for the night.

- Why?

- Regulations.

Nothing beside remains.

'Round the decay of

that colossal wreck.

Boundless and bare.

Alone and level sands

stretch far away.

So, you like my place?

- Needs work.

- Well, I only keep it

to impress the ladies.

- Yeah, I bet you they're

real impressed, too.

First stop on the

Pat Quid guided tour.

- Hitch, you can leave any time.

- What? Are you

gonna call me a cab?

By the way, name is

Pamela, not Hitch.

- Pamela what?

- That's all you need to know.

- I don't get it,

what's the mystery?

Are you on the

lam or something?

- What if I was?

Would you turn me in?

- Me? No.

- [Pamela] Well, I'm not.

- So, what have you got to hide?

The fact that your

somebody's daughter?

- Most girls are usually

somebody's daughter.

- But you're not just

somebody's, right?

- You're quick.

- Well, I mean you're

not what I would call the

typical hitchhiker.

I mean it's kind of obvious

that that look is not early

Salvation Army.

So, come on.

Who's your dad?

Come on!

I promise I won't

hold it against ya.

- He's in the diplomatic

service, let's call it.

- And you didn't

like the service?

- Life was incredibly

diplomatic in Canberra.

- Now, you're lookin'

for a little adventure?

- I'd go to Disneyland

for a little adventure.

What I'm looking for

is a little excitement.

What is this place, anyway?

- Oh, it's old

telegraph station.

It used to be a town of about

700 people who lived here.

- [Pamela] What happened to 'em?

- They were devoured

by the dreaded

Oryctolagus Cuniculus

- Sounds erotic.

- Listen, listen very carefully,

you can hear him out there.

Munching.

Is he animal,

mineral, or vegetable?

Or is it man?

Advancing like an army

of plastic dentures

devouring his fellow man?

- And woman!

- And woman.

- Thank you.

What is it? Kermit?

(laughing)

Cunaclum?

- Cuniculus.

- What is it, anyway?

- A rabbit.

A bunny rabbit, no, I'm serious.

In the 1800s, it was a

plague of rabbits here,

and they ate all the vegetation,

and the sand dunes

began to advance.

It's why everybody left.

I guess it's why I like it here.

- [Pamela] Rabbits?

You're weird.

- Where ya goin'?

- Use your imagination.

- Hitch.

Pamela.

Watch out for the bunnies, huh?

(harmonica humming)

(thunder rumbling)

(soft guitar music)

(lightning crackles)

(foreboding music)

(soft orchestral music)

- Hello?

[Quid] H I - Hi! e k'!

What are you doing?

- Just keepin' the passengers

cold, can you shut the door?

You'll let the cold out.

Goodbye, young porkers!

Goodbye and keep cold!

Grade 50 above,

more than 50 below.

How ya doin'?

- Okay-

- Robert Frost.

- How'd ya sleep?

- Not bad.

I can sleep on a fence post.

How 'bout you?

(Pamela grunts)

Sleep not, dream not.

This bright day, will

not cannot last for aye.

- Emily Bronte.

- Right.

- Read much of her stuff?

- Yeah, I have.

- In school?

- No, I didn't go to school.

Self-educated more or less.

What's that old expression?

Education is hanging

around long enough--

- Why do you always do that?

- Do what?

- Talk in poems.

"Do I?

- Poems are old and dusty.

You're not old and dusty.

How old are you?

- Too old.

- I don't think so.

- What's that?

- Pig in a poke, you

better start shakin'.

Today's pig is tomorrow's bacon.

- TS Elliott?

- Hi, Daddy, it's me!

No, I'm fine.

Doesn't matter where

I am, I'm fine!

Hello, Nancy.

What do you mean, get raped?

He's actually a very nice guy.

Yes, he is a truck driver...

Look, I didn't call you...

I didn't call to get yelled at.

I just wanted to let

you know I'm fine.

(alarm ringing)

No, I'm not coming

back, not now.

Look, I'll call

ya later, alright?

(alarm ringing)

(man shouting)

- What he say?

- He was very diplomatic.

Then my step hooker

got on the line,

wants to know if I've

been laying truck drivers.

See what I'm up against?

- Yeah, well, at least

they know you're alive.

Jesus, let's get out of

here, that noise is driving

me crazy!

- I gotta use the ladies room!

- Okay, make it snappy!

(alarm ringing)

- Quid!

(alarm ringing)

- Here.

Excuse me.

(Quid muttering)

(alarm ringing)

(Pamela gasps)

Wait here.

(alarm ringing)

(man shouting)

Kinda caught you with your

pants down, didn't we?

You slimy son of a b*tch!

You know, butchering

young girls is one thing,

but when you hurt my animal

you made a big mistake, pal.

What's the matter? Cat got your

tongue, you miserable stink?

(man muttering)

Word of advice, shithead,

you try anything funny,

and this dog is gonna have

your eggs for breakfast.

(clock ticking)

(Pamela gasps)

You know, there's no way out.

Except down the S bend

or through me, cowboy.

I'm talkin' to you, Mr.

Smith or friggin' Jones,

or whatever your name is!

(dog wheezing)

(sneezing)

Oh, I'm sorry, mate.

I thought it was somebody else.

I apologise, really, I...

Hitch!

(startling orchestral music)

Go to the truck, Boswell!

(screaming)

(engine rumbling)

Sh*t.

Boswell!

Look out, mate, look out!

- Watch out for the

dingo, he's vicious!

- That's right!

He'll go straight for your

crotch if you're not careful!

Hey, hey!

If you read about this in

the papers tomorrow morning,

you'll know what it's all about!

(exciting orchestral music)

You gonna go straight

for his crotch, buddy?

That's funny, he's slowin' down.

Maybe he's outta gas.

Maybe this is some

new kinda game.

She doesn't look

too kidnapped to me.

Does she to you, buddy?

What the hell is she doin'?

Psychoanalysin' him?

Hey, you don't think she'd

be stupid enough to try

and blackmail him, do ya?

Well, I don't know, Bozzy.

Maybe we been barkin'

up the wrong tree.

(horn honks)

(foreboding orchestral music)

I told ya, man, I told ya the

first time we picked her up,

she is trouble.

I knew we shouldn't

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Everett De Roche

Everett De Roche (July 12, 1946 - April 2, 2014) was an American-Australian screenwriter who has worked extensively in Australian film and TV. He was best known for his work in the thriller and horror genre, with such credits as Long Weekend, Patrick and Road Games. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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