Smokin' Aces Page #31

MARGIE:

You sure you don't want me to call

an ambulance honey? I think it's

crazy you not going in... y'got what

looks like hypothermia and real bad

frostbite. They could wind up

amputatin' if y'don't get it treated.

Warren sits in the chair next to Elmore and begins mimicking

him, shaking epileptically, doing his doofus bit, tucking

three fingers away, waving a stump, belly-laughing...

MARGIE:

Warren! Now you go and practice your

nunchucks now, leave us be for a bit

Shug.

Warren scowls, getting up, in super-slow motion, making sounds

with his mouth as he stands, robotic whirs, buzzes, clicks --

Margie chuckles at her grandson, she can't help it --

Then, in a blur, Warren snaps, abruptly slamming the nunchakas

on the table, the rebounding portion of the weapon almost

hitting Elmore in the face. He bolts the room before Grandma

can scold him, his titters echoing off like taunts...

MARGIE:

...M'sorry about that boy, his momma

abandoned him going on a year now,

his daddy, my boy Dale -- Gulf War

vet, s'over in the Reno-Washoe

Correctional facility -- got some

"clarity" issues. He did some home

invasion sodomy-torture type stuff,

wrote a buncha bad checks, got hisself

consecutive life terms -- shipped

off to Soledad there in California.

(beat, scribbles

something down)

-- reminds me, I got that care package

I need to send off --

(beat, continues lament)

Anyhoo, m'husband Bill took the

coward's route, n'committed suicide

by hangin' 'bout nine months back.

Ever since then, little Boogie there's

been the man'a the house!

(beat, gnarled grin)

And we make a darn cute couple I

think!

Margie, cackling again -- the facade of sanity showing serious

signs of strain... Elmore pulls the ammo box across the table.

Stenciled on the side: "177th Airborne Division -- Charlie

Company - Reckon" He cracks the lid.

MARGIE:

I don't think that's been opened

since my husband died.

Inside, army memorabilia and bric-a-brac; patches, service-

tags, dog-earred b&w polaroids, ancient titty mags, (which

make Margie horribly uncomfortable) Saigon bottled beer and

most importantly, a .357 Colt Python.

Elmore lifts it, looks it over, feels the heft, drops the

chamber -- it's loaded. He sifts some more, palms loose

bullets at the bottom of the box. He cracks a blackened grin,

rolling the pistol's chamber and snapping it shut as we...

CUT TO:

A padlock being locked and secured.

CAMERA PULLS BACK TO REVEAL:

INT. NOMAD HOTEL -- LOBBY

Elevators and access doors locked down indefinitely. Casino

and hotel patrons file out in less than orderly fashion.

Craps players, pissed that their "hot streaks" have been cut

short, harangue police and sheriff's personnel in passing.

Barflys and blackjack habituates, accustomed to staying in

one spot for months on end, have to be manually removed.

The four call girls, trying to argue their way past security

and onto one of the elevators, realizing they're not getting

anywhere near the Penthouse level. Messner coordinates the

Nomad's exodus, continually adjusting his earpiece, trying

to contact Carruthers, two agents flank him.

MESSNER:

(to agent)

I want you to locate Agent Carruthers

now.

(beat, to another

agent)

The guests that aren't able to leave

need to be confined to their suites.

And under no circumstances are they

to venture out, for any reason. Have

the staff make calls to that effect.

The pimply Casino Employee is at the center of an intensive

on-spot interrogation being conducted by a group of agents.

Messner arrives, stares at the kid.

MESSNER:

This him?

FBI AGENT:

(nodding, then to kid)

Alright Ricky, I want you to explain

to Agent Messner exactly what happened

and do it slowly please.

The kid, head bobbing, gnawing fingernails, cuticles mangled.

CASINO EMPLOYEE:

Yeah, ye-- I -- uh, there were,

earlier, there was that guy Carrut--

MESSNER:

-- Agent Carruthers. Do you know

where is he now?

CASINO EMPLOYEE:

He uh -- he asked about -- I'm -- he

wanted to know whic-- what floor

security was on, then I saw him get

on the elevator with the other agent.

MESSNER:

(quick, thrown)

Wait a minute, what other agent?

(beat, to others)

What other agent?

FBI AGENT:

I have no idea. It wasn't anybody

from our office.

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