The Big Lebowski Page #32

DUDE:

You don't have the f***ing girl,

dipshits. We know you never did.

So you've got nothin' on my Johnson.

DUDE:

The men in black, stunned, confer amongst themselves in

German. Under his breath:

DONNY:

Are these the Nazis, Walter?

Walter answers, also sotto voce, his eyes still on the three

men:

WALTER:

They're nihilists, Donny, nothing to

be afraid of.

The Germans stop conferring.

DIETER:

Vee don't care. Vee still vant zat

money or vee f*** you up.

KIEFFER:

Ja, vee still vant ze money. Vee

sreaten you.

He pulls an uzi from under his coat. It glints in the

firelight.

WALTER:

F*** you. F*** the three of you.

DUDE:

Hey, cool it Walter.

Walter ignores the Dude, addresses the Germans:

WALTER:

There's no ransom if you don't have

a f***ing hostage. That's what ransom

is. Those are the f***ing rules.

DIETER:

Zere ARE no ROOLZ!

WALTER:

NO RULES! YOU CABBAGE-EATING SONS-

OF- B*TCHES--

KIEFFER:

His girlfriend gafe up her toe! She

sought we'd be getting million

dollars! Iss not fair!

WALTER:

Fair! WHO'S THE F***ING NIHILIST

HERE! WHAT ARE YOU, A BUNCH OF

F***ING CRYBABIES?!

DUDE:

Hey, cool it Walter. Listen, pal,

there never was any money. The big

Lebowski gave me an empty briefcase,

man, so take it up with him.

WALTER:

AND I'D LIKE MY UNDIES BACK!

The Germans confer again, in German.

Donny is visibly frightened.

DONNY:

Are they gonna hurt us, Walter?

WALTER 'S TONE IS GENTLE:

WALTER:

They won't hurt us, Donny. These

men are cowards.

THE CONFERENCE ENDS:

DIETER:

Okay. Vee take ze money you haf on

you und vee call it eefen.

WALTER:

F*** you.

The Dude is digging into his pocket.

DUDE:

Come on, Walter, we're ending this

thing cheap.

Walter's eyes, burning with hatred, are locked on Dieter's.

WALTER:

What's mine is mine.

DUDE:

Come on, Walter!.

Louder, to the Germans, as he looks in his wallet:

DUDE:

Four dollars here!

He inspects the change in his palm.

DUDE:

Almost five!

DONNY:

(tremulously)

I got eighteen dollars, Dude.

WALTER:

(grimly)

What's mine is mine.

With a ring of steel, Dieter produces a glinting saber.

DIETER:

VEE F*** YOU UP, MAN! VEE TAKE YOUR

MONEY!

WALTER:

(coolly)

Come and get it.

DIETER:

VEE F*** YOU UP, MAN!

WALTER:

Come and get it. F***ing nihilist.

DIETER:

I F*** YOU! I F*** YOU!

WALTER:

Show me what you got. Nihilist.

Dipshit with a nine-toed woman.

In a rage, Dieter charges.

DIETER:

I F*** YOU! I F*** YOU!

WALTER:

hurls his leather satchel.

KIEFFER:

Watching Dieter's charge, is caught off-guard. The bowling

ball thuds into his chest and lifts him off his feet.

He falls back, his uzi clattering away.

WALTER:

twists away as Dieter reaches him; grabs Dieter's head in

both hands; draws Dieter's head up to his mouth, which closes

on Dieter's ear.

DUDE:

He rushes Franz but draws up short as Franz sends out karate

kicks, his leather pants squeaking and popping. Franz gives

a loud cry with each kick; the Dude leans back, throwing his

arms up, evading the kicks.

WALTER:

His jaw is still clamped on Dieter's ear. Dieter draws his

saber against Walter's side, drawing blood.

Walter doesn't react to the wound. Growling as Dieter

screams, he worries his ear, waggling his head with his jaws

clamped.

THE SABER:

Dieter drops it.

DUDE:

Awkwardly circling, evading Franz's kicks.

WALTER:

still worrying the ear. With a tearing sound his head and

Dieter's separate.

DIETER, EARLESS, SCREAMS:

DIETER:

I F*** YOU! YOU CANNOT HURT ME! I

BELIEF IN NUSSING!

Walter spits his ear into his face.

DUDE:

The Dude and Franz, both now panting heavily, have yet to

establish body contact. Franz continues to kick.

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