The Big Lebowski Page #18

DUDE:

The nail polish, Walter.

WALTER:

Fine, Dude. As if it's impossible

to get some nail polish, apply it to

someone else's toe--

DUDE:

Someone else's--where the f*** are

they gonna--

WALTER:

You want a toe? I can get you a

toe, believe me. There are ways,

Dude. You don't wanna know about

it, believe me.

DUDE:

But Walter--

WALTER:

I'll get you a toe by this

afternoon--with nail polish. These

f***ing amateurs. They send us a

toe, we're supposed to sh*t our-

selves with fear. Jesus Christ. My

point is--

DUDE:

They're gonna kill her, Walter, and

then they're gonna kill me--

WALTER:

Well that's just, that's the stress

talking, Dude. So far we have what

looks to me like a series of

victimless crimes--

DUDE:

What about the toe?

WALTER:

FORGET ABOUT THE F***ING TOE!

A waitress enters.

WAITRESS:

Could you please keep your voices

down--this is a family restaurant.

WALTER:

Oh, please dear! I've got news for

you:
the Supreme Court has roundly

rejected prior restraint!

DUDE:

Walter, this isn't a First Amendment

thing.

WAITRESS:

Sir, if you don't calm down I'm going

to have to ask you to leave.

WALTER:

Lady, I got buddies who died face-

down in the muck so you and I could

enjoy this family restaurant!

THE DUDE GETS UP:

DUDE:

All right, I'm leaving. I'm sorry

ma'am.

WALTER:

Don't run away from this, Dude!

Goddamnit, this affects all of us!

The Dude has left frame; Walter calls after him:

WALTER:

Our basic freedoms!

He looks defiantly around.

WALTER:

I'm staying. Finishing my coffee.

He stirs the coffee, bopping his head in time to the Muzak,

affecting nonchalance.

WALTER:

Finishing my coffee.

DUDE'S BATHROOM

A dripping noise.

The Dude sits in the bathtub, staring stuporously, a joint

pinched in one hand, a washcloth draped over his head.

We hear the phone ringing in the other roam.

The Dude is staring at his toes, which protrude from the

soapy water, splayed against the far side of the tub.

After the Dude's outgoing message we hear:

VOICE THROUGH MACHINE

Mr. Lebowski, this is Duty Officer

Rolvaag of the L.A.P.D.

The Dude looks stuporously up, his head swaying.

VOICE THROUGH MACHINE

We've recovered your vehicle. It

can be claimed at the North Hollywood

Auto Circus there on Victory.

DUDE:

Far out. Far f***in' out.

MESSAGE:

You'll just need to present a--

The message is interrupted by loud smashing sounds, as of

someone applying a baseball bat to the answering machine.

DUDE:

Hunh?

He looks blearily at the open doorway.

A tall man dressed in black leather with a cricket paddle is

striding across the living room towards the bathroom.

DUDE:

Hey! This is a private residence,

man!

The man has entered the bathroom and, in stride, swings the

cricket paddle up to smash the overhead light. Two other

men are entering behind him.

The room is dark now except for spill from the living room;

the men are backlit shapes.

One of them holds a string at the other end of which a small

animal skitters excitedly about the floor.

The Dude looks curiously at the small, nattering animal.

DUDE:

Nice marmot.

The man with the string scoops up the marmot and tosses it,

screaming, into the bathtub.

The Dude screams.

The marmot splashes frantically, biting at the Dude in a

frenzy of fearful aggression.

FIRST MAN:

Vee vant zat money, Lebowski.

The Dude, screaming, grabs the lip of the tub and starts to

hoist himself up but the first man lays a palm on top of his

head and squishes him back into the water.

SECOND MAN:

You think veer kidding und making

mit de funny stuff?

THIRD MAN:

Vee could do things you only dreamed

of, Lebowski.

SECOND MAN:

Ja, vee could really do it, Lebowski.

Vee belief in nossing.

He scoops the marmot out of the water. It shakes itself

off, spraying the Dude.

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