Shawshank Redemption Page #4

26INT -- RED'S CELL -- NIGHT (1947) 26

Red waits at the bars. Smoking. Listening. He cranes his head,

peers down toward Andy's cell. Nothing. Not a peep.

HEYWOOD (O.S.)

Fat-Ass...oh, Faaaat-Ass. Talk to

me, boy. I know you're in there. I

can hear you breathin'. Now don't

you listen to these nitwits, hear?

27INT -- FAT-ASS' CELL -- NIGHT (1947) 27

Fat-Ass is crying, trying not to hyperventilate.

HEYWOOD (O.S.)

This ain't such a bad place. I'll

introduce you around, make you feel

right at home. I know some big ol'

bull queers who'd love to make your

acquaintance...especially that big

white mushy butt of yours...

And that's it. Fat-Ass lets out a LOUD WAIL of despair:

FAT-ASS

OH GOD! I DON'T BELONG HERE! I

WANNA GO HOME!

28INT -- HEYWOOD'S CELL -- NIGHT (1947) 28

HEYWOOD:

AND IT'S FAT-ASS BY A NOSE.'

29INT -- CELLBLOCK -- NIGHT (1947) 29

The place goes nuts. Fat-Ass throws himself screaming against

the bars. The entire block starts CHANTING:

VOICES:

Fresh fish...fresh fish...fresh

fish...fresh fish...

FAT-ASS

I WANNA GO HOME! I WANT MY MOTHER.'

VOICE (O.S.)

I had your mother! She wasn't that

great!

The lights bump on. GUARDS pour in, led by Hadley himself.

HADLEY:

What the Christ is this happy sh*t?

VOICE (O.S.)

He took the Lord's name in vain!

I'm tellin' the warden!

HADLEY:

(to the unseen wit)

You'll be tellin' him with my baton

up your ass!

Hadley arrives at Fat-Ass' cell, bellowing through the bars:

HADLEY:

What's your malfunction you fat

f***in' barrel of monkey-spunk?

FAT-ASS

PLEASE! THIS AIN'T RIGHT! I AIN'T

SUPPOSED TO BE HERE! NOT ME!

HADLEY:

I ain't gonna count to three! Not

even to one! Now shut the f*** up

'fore I sing you a lullabye!

Fat-Ass keeps blubbering and wailing. Total freak-out. Hadley

draws his baton, gestures to his men. Open it.

A GUARD unlocks the cell. Hadley pulls Fat-Ass out and starts

beating him with the baton, brutally raining blows. Fat-Ass

falls, tries to crawl.

The place goes dead silent. All we hear now is the dull

THWACK-THWACK-THWACK of the baton. Fat-ass passes out. Hadley

gets in a few more licks and finally stops.

HADLEY:

Get this tub of sh*t down to the

infirmary.

(peers around)

If I hear so much as a mouse fart

in here the rest of the night, by

God and Sonny Jesus, you'll all

visit the infirmary. Every last

motherf***er here.

The guards wrestle Fat-Ass onto a stretcher and carry him off.

FOOTSTEPS echo away. Lights off. Darkness again. Silence.

30INT -- RED'S CELL -- NIGHT (1947) 30

Red stares through the bars at the main floor below, eyes

riveted to the small puddle of blood where Fat-Ass went down.

RED (V.O.)

His first night in the joint, Andy

Dufresne cost me two packs of

cigarettes. He never made a sound...

31INT -- CELLBLOCK FIVE -- MORNING (1947) 31

LOUD BUZZER. The master locks are thrown -- KA-THUMP! The cons

step from their cells, lining the tiers. The GUARDS holler

their head-counts to the HEAD BULL, who jots on a clipboard.

Red peers at Andy, checking him out. Andy stands in line,

collar buttoned, hair combed.

32INT -- MESS HALL -- MORNING (1947) 32

Andy goes through the breakfast line, gets a scoop of glop on

his tray. WE PAN ANDY through the noise and confusion...and

discover BOGS DIAMOND and ROOSTER MacBRIDE watching Andy go

by. Bogs sizes Andy up with a salacious gleam in his eye,

mutters something to Rooster. Rooster laughs.

Andy finds a table occupied by Red and his regulars, chooses

a spot at the end where nobody is sitting. Ignoring their

stares, he picks up his spoon -- and pauses, seeing something

in his food. He carefully fishes it out with his fingers.

It's a squirming maggot. Andy grimaces, unsure what to do with

it. BROOKS HATLEN is sitting closest to Andy. At age 65, he's

a senior citizen, a long-standing resident.

BROOKS:

You gonna eat that?

ANDY:

Hadn't planned on it.

BROOKS:

You mind?

Andy passes the maggot to Brooks. Brooks examines it, rolling

it between his fingertips like a man checking out a fine

cigar. Andy is riveted with apprehension.

BROOKS:

Mmm. Nice and ripe.

Andy can't bear to watch. Brooks opens up his sweater and

feeds the maggot to a baby crow nestled in an inside pocket.

Andy breathes a sigh of relief.

BROOKS:

Jake says thanks. Fell out of his

nest over by the plate shop. I'm

lookin' after him till he's old

enough to fly.

Andy nods, proceeds to eat. Carefully. Heywood approaches.

JIGGER:

Oh, Christ, here he comes.

HEYWOOD:

Mornin', boys. It's a fine mornin'.

You know why it's fine?

Heywood plops his tray down, sits. The men start pulling out

cigarettes and handing them down.

HEYWOOD:

That's right, send 'em all down. I

wanna see 'em lined up in a row,

pretty as a chorus line.

An impressive pile forms. Heywood bends down and inhales

deeply, smelling the aroma. Rapture.

FLOYD:

Smell my ass...

HEYWOOD:

Gee, Red. Terrible shame, your

horse comin' in last and all.

Hell, I sure do love that horse of

mine. I believe I owe that boy a

big sloppy kiss when I see him.

RED:

Give him some'a your cigarettes

instead, cheap bastard.

HEYWOOD:

Say Tyrell, you pull infirmary duty

this week? How's that winnin' horse

of mine, anyway?

TYRELL:

Dead.

(the men fall silent)

Hadley busted his head pretty good.

Doc already went home for the

night. Poor bastard lay there till

this morning. By then...

He shakes his head, turns back to his food. The silence

mounts. Heywood glances around. Men resume eating. Softly:

ANDY:

What was his name?

HEYWOOD:

What? What'd you say?

ANDY:

I was wondering if anyone knew his

name.

HEYWOOD:

What the f*** you care, new fish?

(resumes eating)

Doesn't matter what his f***in'

name was. He's dead.

33INT -- PRISON LAUNDRY -- DAY (1947) 33

A DEAFENING NOISE of industrial washers and presses. Andy works

the laundry line. A nightmarish job. He's new at it. BOB, the

con foreman, elbows him aside and shows him how it's done.

34INT -- SHOWERS -- DAY (1947) 34

Shower heads mounted in bare concrete. Andy showers with a

dozen or more men. No modesty here. At least the water is good

and hot, soothing his tortured muscles.

Bogs looms from the billowing steam, smiling, checking Andy up

and down. Rooster and PETE appear from the sides. The Sisters.

BOGS:

You're some sweet punk. You been

broke in yet?

Andy tries to step past them. He gets shoved around, nothing

serious, just some slap and tickle. Jackals sizing up prey.

BOGS:

Hard to get. I like that.

Andy breaks free, flushed and shaking. He hurries off, leaving

the three Sisters laughing.

35INT -- ANDY'S CELL -- NIGHT (1947) 35

Andy lies staring at the darkness, unable to sleep.

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