The Big Lebowski Page #34

DONNELLY:

Sir, please lower your voice--

DUDE:

Hey man, don't you have something

else you could put it in?

DONNELLY:

That is our most modestly priced

receptacle.

WALTER:

GODDAMNIT! IS THERE A RALPH'S AROUND

HERE?!

POINT DUME -- DAY

It is a high, wind-swept bluff. Walter and the Dude walk

towards the lip of the bluff. Parked in the background is

one lonely car, Walter's.

Walter is carrying a bright red coffee can with a blue plastic

lid. When they reach the edge the two men stand awkwardly

for a beat. Finally:

WALTER:

I'll say a few words.

The Dude clasps his hands in front of him. Walter clears

his throat.

WALTER:

Donny was a good bowler, and a good

man. He was. . . He was one of us.

He was a man who loved the outdoors,

and bowling, and as a surfer explored

the beaches of southern California

from Redondo to Calabassos. And he

was an avid bowler. And a good

friend. He died--he died as so many

of his generation, before his time.

In your wisdom you took him, Lord.

As you took so many bright flowering

young men, at Khe San and Lan Doc

and Hill 364. These young men gave

their lives. And Donny too. Donny

who. . . who loved bowling.

Walter clears his throat.

WALTER:

And so, Theodore--Donald--Karabotsos,

in accordance with what we think

your dying wishes might well have

been, we commit your mortal remains

to the bosom of.

Walter is peeling the plastic lid off the coffee can.

WALTER:

the Pacific Ocean, which you loved

so well.

AS HE SHAKES OUT THE ASHES:

WALTER:

Goodnight, sweet prince.

The wind has blown all of the ashes into the Dude, standing

just to the side of and behind Walter. The Dude stands,

frozen. Finished eulogizing, Walter looks back.

WALTER:

Sh*t, I'm sorry Dude.

He starts brushing off the Dude with his hands.

WALTER:

Goddamn wind.

Heretofore motionless, the Dude finally explodes, slapping

Walter's hands away.

DUDE:

Goddamnit Walter! You f***ing

a**hole!

WALTER:

Dude! Dude, I'm sorry!

The Dude is near tears.

DUDE:

You make everything a f***ing

travesty!

WALTER:

Dude, I'm--it was an accident!

The Dude gives Walter a furious shove.

DUDE:

What about that sh*t about Vietnam!

WALTER:

Dude, I'm sorry--

DUDE:

What the f*** does Vietnam have to

do with anything! What the f***

were you talking about?!

Walter for the first time is genuinely distressed, almost

lost.

WALTER:

Sh*t Dude, I'm sorry--

DUDE:

You're a f***, Walter!

He gives Walter a weaker shove. Walter seems dazed, then

wraps his arms around the Dude.

WALTER:

Awww, f*** it Dude. Let's go bowling.

THE LANES THE DUDE AND WALTER BOWLING

We watch each of them glide across the floor, release, follow

through--gracefully. We have never seen them bowl before.

They are quite good. Each wears a black armband on his

bowling shirt.

BAR AREA:

The Dude walks up to the bar.

DUDE:

Two oat sodas, Gary.

GARY:

Right. Good luck tomorrow.

DUDE:

Thanks, man.

GARY:

Sorry to hear about Donny.

DUDE:

Yeah. Well, you know, sometimes you

eat the bear, and, uh.

"Tumbling Tumbleweeds" has come up on the jukebox, and The

Stranger ambles up to the bar.

THE STRANGER:

Howdy do, Dude.

DUDE:

Oh, hey man, how are ya? I wondered

if I'd see you again.

THE STRANGER:

Wouldn't miss the semis. How things

been goin'?

DUDE:

Ahh, you know. Strikes and gutters,

ups and downs.

The Stranger's eyes crinkle merrily.

THE STRANGER:

Sure, I gotcha.

The bartender has put two gleaming beers on the counter.

DUDE:

Thanks, Gary...Take care, man, I

gotta get back.

THE STRANGER:

Sure. Take it easy, Dude--I know

that you will.

THE DUDE, LEAVING, NODS:

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