Tell Page #4

- Do you have a gun?

- I've been out for three days, don't look at me.

It would probably just bend the f***ing metal anyway.

Unless you blew the lock clean off.

That'd be pretty f***ing cool.

Ah, what the hell, it's worth a shot.

Ray... I knew you would...

Turn the TV volume all the way up.

Sh*t.

Ray.

- You can't shoot...

- Sh*t!

I didn't blow it clean off.

You told me you didn't have a gun.

How the f*** am I gonna get into it now?

You said... Why... Where

did you get the gun from?

Ah, f***.

Ray, the gun... Where

did you get the gun?

F***ing Bev gave it to me.

Oh.

She gave you that.

Yeah. Aw, b*tch.

There better be something good in here, Tell, seriously.

Ray, it's a safe.

You keep money, jewels, important stuff in safes!

Ah! Ha, ha!

Sh*t, that worked.

It's just a bunch of f***ing tax papers, man.

What the f*** is this sh*t?

- What is that?

- Uh-buh-buh-buh-buh-bah.

I was asking myself.

- I'm keeping this sh*t.

- Okay.

Yeah, it's mine.

Thank you.

Oh, oh, one-- one more thing.

This is for the bank sh*t.

Oh!

Sh*t.

Jesus, Tell, every time I see you,

you're bleeding from someplace new.

What happened?

Well...

I ran into an old friend.

And then, I ran into a shovel.

And, um...

You know, just a normal day at the office.

Ray?

What are you doing here?

I know I told you that we shouldn't

see each other anymore,

but I wanted to give you this.

What's this?

It's a photo of our son, William.

It was taken this Halloween.

Help me understand something, Bev.

I'm not allowed to see this kid.

Why is it so important for you to

prove to me that I'm his father?

Because...

I want you to know that I am telling you the truth.

I don't want you to think I would use

something like this to get the money.

I want you to believe me.

I want you to believe in me, I guess.

That needs to be cleaned better.

Sit on the bed.

Oh, hey, guess what Ray showed me today.

A giant-ass hand cannon you gave him.

He came to see me...

Ow!

Right after prison...

What was I supposed to do?

Hey, Bev, how many guys have you given guns to this week?

What did you want me to say?

"I'm sorry, Ray, I can't give you a gun

"because I've already given Tell one

You give him a .44 and you give me,

what, this little pea shooter?

Come on, Tell, you've always been a better shot than him.

That's beside the point.

Beverly, don't think I'm stupid.

You're trying to play me against your brother

in hopes that whoever is left standing in the end

shares the money with you.

Am I right?

And I'm not gonna f***ing clean it up.

I love you.

- It's good seeing you.

- You too!

Fellas, it's about time you got here to help.

I tell you what... Why don't

you guys take the dresser?

I'll carry up the pillows.

I'm calling a time-out.

Yeah, okay.

We're hungry, and we wanna get something to eat.

If you don't mind me saying,

that b*tch is your f***ing kryptonite.

Why don't you stay away from her?

You know, I would if I could.

Uh, we think you're gonna be picking up the money

at a steak place over on Melrose,

so we're gonna sit there, surveil you...

Okay, so you're gonna get a free steak out of me.

- Yeah. And a couple bottles of wine.

- Sure.

Put your hands under the table.

I don't wanna see your handcuffs.

All right, good, give me hunger.

Now put your head down like you're

a little depressed, but not that depressed.

There you go.

Ooh, yes, that's it, make me feel it.

Come on, sit down.

Gentlemen, is everything okay?

Can I get you anything else?

Can I have more wine?

Mmm-hmm, yeah.

Sorry, we can't order you anything to eat.

Three entrees on the check would stand out in accounting.

Plus, it'd be dishonest.

Hmm.

Have a roll.

You know, I figure since...

I mean, we're pals now, right, guys?

You know, what if I told you

what really happened to the bank money?

Yeah.

I'll tell you.

I had it when I got out of the house.

Then, I passed out on the street,

and someone stole it from me.

So if you guys find that person, would you tell me?

Because I really want that money back.

It's mine.

Yuk it up while you can, smart guy.

Tomorrow will be different.

F***, I already had "Yuk it up

with idiot detectives" on my calendar.

Boom, I win.

You did win. He's good.

- You're here early.

- Uh-huh.

Let's talk somewhere else, okay?

Step into my office.

Did you think about what we talked about last night?

I'm just here for my weekly.

Forget about that.

I think you're getting hung up

on the word "officer" in my job title.

I'm not a law man...

I'm a working stiff.

So if you tell me where the money is,

I'm not gonna turn it over to the police.

- What's this?

- It's my criminal record.

- I lifted it from the file.

- Whoa.

Listen, nothing too heavy.

I'm not a peeping Tom, but kind of like a peeping Tom.

I was looking, but I wasn't looking...

I was trying to steal a TV, but

she just happened to be naked.

Just stuff like that.

The money's gone...

So here, I...

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.

Just read it, okay?

Just read it.

I've already committed a felony by letting you have it.

It's already a crime.

We're doing crime right now.

So we might as well go ahead and jump out the window.

- Yeah.

- Okay?

Look, there's no "I" in "crime," man.

Is there an "I" in crime?

You really don't have that money.

No.

Hey, man, I--I'm--I'm really

sorry about yesterday,

you know, the shovel, and the bleach, and all that.

Can we just call it even?

- Sure.

- Okay, good.

Because I f***ing found something in that safe.

Get in.

Wait, Ray, Ray.

Where are we going?

My place to talk business.

Listen, there's a couple of cops...

Oh, your-- your friends won't be joining us.

I put a banana in the tailpipe.

I saw it in a movie once.

Oh, I'm staying in the back, it's f***ing awesome.

Beverly's letting you stay here?

Yeah, dude, just for a few months.

I don't know if you'd call it a guest house,

or a cabana maybe, or a detached garage unit,

or a small, independent dwelling,

but it sure beats the sh*t out of your halfway hole.

This time of day, nobody's home.

Oh, f*** yeah, chicken.

So, uh, the guy that lives here, he an a**hole?

Totally.

So this dead guy you've been cleaning up after,

he didn't kill himself.

He was taken out.

Somebody stopped the dude's clock

and made it look like a suicide.

Why would someone do that?

He wasn't just a church custodian.

At the Reynolds headquarters in Santa Monica.

So check this out.

He's up there every night

sweeping up, and poking around in people's desks

for spare change, credit cards,

whatever he could f***ing find worth lifting.

Yeah, but you don't kill a guy for that.

No, you don't.

But one night,

Mr. Paul finds himself

in the office of f***ing Vice

President of Sales Graham Huffman.

He's doing a little poking around,

and he finds these babies.

Bam!

This, my friend, is amateur porn

starring Huffman and about 27 f***ing prostitutes.

Shot right in his office.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes