Stand by Me Page #3

Go get the provisions, you morphadite.

Don't call me any|of your mother's pet names.

What a wet end you are, Lachance.

Shut up.

I don't shut up, I grow up.|And when I look at you, I throw up.

Then your mother goes around the corner|and she licks it up.

Finding new and disgusting ways|to degrade a friend's mother...

... was always held as high regard.

Ain't you Denny Lachance's brother?

Yes, sir.

Shame what happened to him.

The Bible says,|"In the midst of life we are in death."

Did you know that?

I lost a brother in Korea.

You look like your brother Denny.

People ever tell you that?

Sometimes.

I remember the year|he was All-Conference.

Quarterback, he played.

Boy, could he throw.

Father God and Sonny Jesus.

Could be some scouts|at the game tomorrow.

- I don't know, Pop.|- Dad, could I have the potatoes?

- That's what I hear, Son.|- Are you going to see Jane after the game?

I think she's a lovely girl.

- Dad, may I please have the potatoes?|- Dorothy, don't talk to the boy about girls.

He shouldn't be thinking about girls.|This is the biggest game of his life.

- Dennis, when you're there tomorrow...|- Did you read the story Gordie wrote?

Gordie wrote a story.

- It was really good.|- What did you write, sweetheart?

That's what I'm talking about.|Football takes concentration.

You start in on the girls|and his mind's all over the place.

I really liked it.

I thought it was great.

You play football?

Do you play football?

No.

What do you do?

I don't know.

Your brother, Denny,|sure could play football.

There you go, kid. $1.50 of hamburger.

You, kid! What are you doing there!|Come over here!

You, come back here, goddamn it!|I'll sic my dog on you.

Run!

Chopper, sic him! Sic him, boy!

Now he said:
"Sic him, boy."

But what I heard was: "Chopper, sic balls."

That's Chopper?

Chopper was my first lesson in the vast|difference between myth and reality.

Come on, Choppie. Kiss my ass, Choppie.

Come on, bite sh*t.

Sic balls, Choppie.

You kids stop teasing that dog!|You hear me? Stop teasing him!

Sonny, I'm gonna beat your ass,|teasing my dog like that!

Let's see you climb over this fence|and get me, fat ass!

Don't you call me that!

You little tin weasel|peckerwood loony's son!

What did you call me?

I know who you are,|you're Teddy Duchamp.

Your dad's a loony.

A loony up in the nuthouse at Togus.

He took your ear and he put it to a stove|and he burnt it off.

My father stormed the beach at Normandy.

He's crazier than a shithouse rat.|No wonder you're acting the way you are...

...with a loony for a father.

You call my dad a loony again|and I'll kill you.

Loony, loony.

I'm gonna rip your head off|and sh*t down your neck.

No, I'm gonna kill him!

You come on and try it, you little bastard.

He wants you to go over so he can beat|you up then take you to the cops.

You watch your mouth.|Let him do his own fighting.

Sure, you only outweigh him|by 500 pounds, fat ass.

I know your name.

You're Lachance. I know all you guys.

And your fathers will get a call from me.

Except for the loony up in Togus.

I'm going to kill you. I'll show you.

- Get him away from...|- You foulmouthed whoremaster.

You son of a b*tch!

You come back here.

Do you hear me?

Nobody ranks out my old man.

- My father stormed the beach...|- I said, "Come back here!"

- He stormed the beach, you f*ggot!|- Come back here.

We showed him.|Thought we were a bunch of pussies.

He ranked my old man.

I wondered how he could care so much|for his dad who'd almost killed him...

... and I didn't care about my own|who hadn't touched me since I was three.

That was for eating bleach under the sink.

He ranked my old man.

What do you care what a fat old pile of sh*t|like him says about your dad?

He still stormed the beach|at Normandy, right?

Do you think that pile of sh*t|was at Normandy?

Forget it, okay?

He knows nothin' about your old man.|He's sh*t.

Whatever's between you and your old man,|he can't change that.

Forget it, all right?

I'm sorry if I'm spoiling|everybody's good time.

It's okay.

I'm not sure it should be a good time.

- You saying you want to go back?|- No.

But going to see a dead kid,|maybe it shouldn't be a party.

If he's really bad, like all cut up|with blood and sh*t all over him...

...I might have nightmares.

All guts and eyeballs|ready to jump and grab...

Shut up, goddamn it!

I can't help it.

Sorry.

It was only a quarter to three,|but it felt much later.

It was too hot and too much had happened.

We weren't even close to the Royal River.

We needed to get moving if we were|going to make some real miles before dark.

Hold still, will you?

So what's with you|and this Connie Palermo chick?

I've been seeing her for over a month,|and all she'll let me do is feel her tits.

She's a Catholic. They're all like that.

You want to get laid|you gotta get yourself a Protestant.

A Jew's good.

A KLAM newsbreak.

We interrupt to bring you an update|on the search for...

... 12 year-old Ray Brower.

The police have expanded their search|to Mutton...

... Durham and the outlying areas.

When are they going to give up?

The kid's gone. They'll never find him.

Not where they're looking.

I was right,|they ain't never gonna find him.

Would you hold still?|You're making me f*** up the snake part.

I'll tell you how they're gonna find him.

Ten years from now a hunter's going to go|into the woods to take a leak...

...wind up pissing on his bones.

I bet you a $1,000|they find him before that.

Bet you $2,000 they don't.

- Well, a**hole...|- What's the big deal?

- Who cares?|- Would you two just shut the f*** up.

If either one of you a**holes had $2,000,|I'd kill you both.

We're back here with The Bossman.

From the racks and stacks,|it's the best on wax.

It's the Cordettes, with "Lollipop".

I got some Winstons.

Hocked them off my old man's dresser.

One apiece, for after supper.

That's cool.

That's when a cigarette tastes best,|after supper.

Right.

Do you think I'm weird?

- Definitely.|- No, seriously.

Am I weird?

Yes, but so what? Everybody's weird.

You ready for school?

Junior high.

You know what that means.

By next June we'll all be split up.

What are you talking about?|Why would that happen?

'Cause it's not going to be like|grammar school, that's why.

You'll be taking college courses,|and me, Teddy, Vern we'll all be...

...in the shop courses|making ashtrays and birdhouses.

You're gonna meet a lot of new guys.|Smart guys.

- Meet a lot of pussies is what you mean.|- No, man.

Don't say that. Don't even think that.

- I'm not going in with a lot of pussies.|- Then you're an a**hole.

What's a**hole with wanting|to be with your friends?

It's a**hole if your friends drag you down.

You hang with us, you'll just be|another wise guy with sh*t for brains.

You think Mighty Mouse could|beat up Superman?

- What are you, cracked?|- Why not?

The other day, he was carrying|five elephants in one hand.

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