The Big Lebowski Page #6

BUNNY:

I'll suck your cock for a thousand

dollars.

Brandt releases a gale of forced laughter:

BRANDT:

Ha-ha-ha-ha! Wonderful woman. Very

free-spirited. We're all very fond

of her.

BUNNY:

Brandt can't watch though. Or he

has to pay a hundred.

BRANDT:

Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! That's marvelous.

He continues to lead away the Dude, who looks back over his

SHOULDER:

DUDE:

I'm just gonna find a cash machine.

BOWLING PINS:

Scattered by a strike.

THE BOWLERS:

Donny calls out from the bench:

DONNY:

Grasshopper Dude--They're dead in

the water!!

As the Dude walks back to the scoring table he turns to

another team in black bowling shirts--the Cavaliers--that

shares the lane.

DUDE:

Your maples, Carl.

Walter, just arriving, is carrying a leatherette satchel in

one hand and a large plastic carrier in the other.

WALTER:

Way to go, Dude. If you will it, it

is no dream.

DUDE:

You're f***ing twenty minutes late.

What the f*** is that?

WALTER:

Theodore Herzel.

DUDE:

Huh?

WALTER:

State of Israel. If you will it,

Dude, it is no--

DUDE:

What the f***'re you talking about?

The carrier. What's in the f***ing

carrier?

WALTER:

Huh? Oh--Cynthia's Pomeranian.

Can't leave him home alone or he

eats the furniture.

DUDE:

What the f*** are you--

WALTER:

I'm saying, Cynthia's Pomeranian.

I'm looking after it while Cynthia

and Marty Ackerman are in Hawaii.

DUDE:

You brought a f***ing Pomeranian

bowling?

WALTER:

What do you mean "brought it bowling"?

I didn't rent it shoes. I'm not

buying it a f***ing beer. He's not

gonna take your f***ing turn, Dude.

He lets the small yapping dog out of the carrier. It scoots

around the bowling table, sniffing at bowlers and wagging

its tail.

DUDE:

Hey, man, if my f***ing ex-wife asked

me to take care of her f***ing dog

while she and her boyfriend went to

Honolulu, I'd tell her to go f***

herself. Why can't she board it?

WALTER:

First of all, Dude, you don't have

an ex, secondly, it's a f***ing show

dog with f***ing papers. You can't

board it. It gets upset, its hair

falls out.

DUDE:

Hey man--

WALTER:

F***ing dog has papers, Dude.--Over

the line!

Smokey turns from his last roll to look at Walter.

WALTER:

Smokey Huh?

WALTER:

Over the line, Smokey! I'm sorry.

That's a foul.

SMOKEY:

Bullshit. Eight, Dude.

WALTER:

Excuse me! Mark it zero. Next frame.

SMOKEY:

Bullshit. Walter!

WALTER:

This is not Nam. This is bowling.

There are rules.

DUDE:

Come on Walter, it's just--it's

Smokey. So his toe slipped over a

little, it's just a game.

WALTER:

This is a league game. This

determines who enters the next round-

robin, am I wrong?

SMOKEY:

Yeah, but--

WALTER:

Am I wrong!?

SMOKEY:

Yeah, but I wasn't over. Gimme the

marker, Dude, I'm marking it an

eight.

Walter takes out a gun.

WALTER:

Smokey my friend, you're entering a

world of pain.

DUDE:

Hey Walter--

WALTER:

Mark that frame an eight, you're

entering a world of pain.

SMOKEY:

I'm not--

WALTER:

A world of pain.

A manager in a bowling-shirt style uniform is running for a

phone.

SMOKEY:

Look Dude, I don't hold with this.

This guy is your partner, you should--

Walter primes the gun and points it at his head.

WALTER:

HAS THE WHOLE WORLD GONE CRAZY? AM

I THE ONLY ONE HERE WHO GIVES A SH*T

ABOUT THE RULES? MARK IT ZERO!

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