Stone Cold Page #2

---

Goddamn p*ssy.

Kick his ass.

Come on, Stone.

Way to go, Stone.

You beat that dude, man.

That's something I thought I'd never see.

Give me my glasses.

- All right. You were great, man.

- Yeah.

Chains, this is John Stone.

Stone, this is Chains.

- Can you get your ass out of my van?

- Chill out, man.

I heard you and Gut

tasted some tar together.

Some knuckle sandwiches.

- What club are you with?

- No club. Independent.

I want to know why your old

lady's going through my sh*t.

She's a cockroach.

She's my house mouse.

Go slice your wrist, Gut.

- Thanks, Chains.

- Come on, let's go party, all right?

I ain't gonna tell you again.

Get out of my van.

You did good at the Tit for Tat.

It showed some attitude around here.

Yeah, whatever. Come on,

get out of here.

Take my old lady and have some fun.

We'll talk business later.

If you're gonna talk to the Brotherhood,

you're gonna have to talk to me.

- I take it you don't want me in your van?

- You're right. I don't.

Relax, man. I'm gonna

show you a real good time.

No, you're not.

Why not?

Because unlike your old man,

I never thought a pretty lady

was something you just gave away.

I don't know, brother. Big boy rides in

out of nowhere, throwing his weight around.

- It smells too sweet. I don't trust him.

- I smell business.

You know me, baby. I'm a worrywart.

It's you and me, Stone. We're going

to get into each other's heads.

You might not like

what you find, Chains.

A member of the Brotherhood

murders a minister in cold blood.

Judge gives him a lenient sentence,

he's blown to bits in return.

The days of leniency

are over, my friends.

Gentlemen, the Gulfport chapter of

the Brotherhood sends its regards.

Got a little donation.

But you're late.

Tell me something. Why we should put up

with the bullshit if the Army wouldn't?

F*** the Army, man.

That's just why I deserted.

Take a look at that piece of sh*t.

I intend to appeal this sentencing

as many times as it takes

to get the death sentence.

And as the Governor of this great

state, if you choose to elect me,

I will make the war on the

underworld my first priority.

We're gonna eight-six him. Cut him off.

I'm gonna crack the Whip.

He's as good as dead.

Who are you?

Stone. I've got a package for Chains.

Tool, it's okay. Stone, man,

where have you been?

Chains has been asking about you.

You gonna prospect or what?

I'll get you something to eat, man.

What's up, brothers?

What's up, Chains?

- What's that?

- A little present.

I think you're gonna need

this when we do business.

What is it? A letter

bomb, man? Open that.

A bulletproof vest, man.

This is government-issue.

Where did you get it?

Don't play games with me, Chains.

Half my stash is government-issue.

So's every pistol in this room.

Including that piece in your pants.

You're right, boy. Let's try this on.

Gotta see how it looks.

- Turn around.

- Jump down, turn around.

I guess it works.

Chains, my man,

don't ever play games with me, Chains.

- Ice, wait!

- This motherf***er deserves to die!

He's mine!

You've got balls of steel, Stone.

You wanna prospect with the Brotherhood?

I say no way.

This is either gonna be the

biggest pork chop I ever ate

or my bulldozer.

- This is f***ing bullshit.

- What do you say?

- What's in it for me?

- Colors, man. Gut!

This may be a rag to the

walking dead out there,

but this is my flag,

my cross, my church.

And these colors don't run.

If they hit the ground even in a fight,

I will peel your skin off

with a knife dipped in sh*t.

I'm waiting.

All right, I'm game.

That was round one, citizen.

Our Pensacola chapter needs an ear.

- What do you mean, they need an ear?

- Mudfish.

You'll recognize it.

Tattooed. Wearing an earring like this.

Name and address.

Shouldn't be hard to find, even for you.

What did he do?

Crossed our territory with a

couple of keys of Bolivian flake.

You carrying? You got a gun?

What for?

So he'll hold still, man.

You're a hell of a dancer, man.

- Thanks, amigo.

- You've got some great moves.

You should be one of

those Solid Gold dancers.

- A performance like that, I'd take a bow.

- Yeah?

You know what? Don't f*** with me, okay?

No, seriously, take a bow.

Excuse me. Trash going out.

I know my rights! What do you want?

What are you doing?

Let me go! F***. What are you doing?

Police? You Federals!

What the... Let me go.

I've tattooed tits.

I've tattooed a flabby ass.

I ain't never tattooed

no corpse's ear before.

My grandfather used to take a chicken,

cut its head off, put it on the

ground and watch it run around.

I see you again, I'll introduce

you to him. Don't come back.

What comes around goes around,

you f***ing pinche gringo!

Look what the cat dragged in.

Here's your ear.

How did it go, man?

Let's just say I saved the

guy a fortune in Q-tips.

These are for you,

my lovely. Smell that.

They're not exactly to die for.

The day's not over yet, man.

Tool and Nancy have got some

collecting to do downtown. Oversee it.

- That's my gig.

- It's his now.

He's not even a member.

- Are you ready?

- Do I have a choice?

There are no golden calves here, man.

- Biloxi Police.

- Hi, baby.

What can I do for you today?

I'm sending you a picture

of a guy named John Stone.

I want you to run an NCIC on him.

- I need it yesterday, all right?

- All right. I'll get back to you.

All right.

Bullshit.

- Why you take so much?

- Don't start no sh*t.

- Come on, Tool.

- Don't f*** with me.

See you later. Bye.

What was that behind my back?

My poor brother in Vietnam.

- What was that?

- Nothing.

- You got family here or something?

- You wouldn't understand.

- Why should I explain it to you?

- What?

- You want me to give you some money?

- You know what? They work real hard.

- Take it. Get out of here.

- Thanks.

Goddamn bikers collecting in my territory.

There's that little son of a b*tch.

Oh, sh*t!

Stupid lady tried to hold back a couple

of hundred. Brother's would eat her...

Hey!

Come on, let's go.

F*** you!

Can you believe this f***ing guy?

You picked up the

wrong passenger, buddy.

Come on, what are you waiting for?

Freeze.

I'm not gonna tell you biker

pricks again. This is my territory.

Tell Chains to keep his

castles out of my sandbox.

Get in the car.

We're out of here.

- You like to tell me who the hell that was?

- His name's Domicci.

He got the money and

Chains is gonna kill me.

- How much was there?

- $400.

Here.

Take it.

- I can't take this from you.

- Just don't forget where it came from.

Excuse me. May I help you gentlemen?

There are to be no visitors

in this hall. Can I help you?

F*** off. What are you looking at?

I got something for you.

I got you pineapple pizza.

- Thanks, guys.

- What is this, a giant Q-tip?

Can you see what's left?

Let's see what's left.

They left the tool.

They left the tool!

Kill me, man. Please, Chains.

- Man, we need you.

- Don't talk like that.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes