The Big Lebowski Page #9

BACK TO THE BOWLER

Displaying great slow-motion form as the Dude and Walter's

conversation continues over.

WALTER:

Yeah, but he's a f***ing pervert,

Dude.

DUDE:

Huh?

WALTER:

The man is a sex offender. With a

record. Spent six months in Chino

for exposing himself to an eight-

year-old.

FLASHBACK:

We see Quintana, in pressed jeans and a stretchy sweater,

walking up a stoop in a residential neighborhood and zinging

the bell.

The VOICE-OVER conversation continues.

DUDE:

Huh.

WALTER:

When he moved down to Venice he had

to go door-to-door to tell everyone

he's a pederast.

The door swings open and a beer-swilling middle-aged man

looks dully out at Quintana, who looks hesitantly up.

DONNY:

What's a pederast, Walter?

WALTER:

Shut the f*** up, Donny.

PINS:

scattered by a strike.

QUINTANA:

wheeling and thrusting a black gloved fist into the air.

Stitched above the breast pocket of his all-in-one is his

first name, "Jesus".

BACK TO WALTER AND THE DUDE

They have been joined by Donny.

WALTER:

Anyway. How much they offer you?

DUDE:

Twenty grand. And of course I still

keep the rug.

WALTER:

Just for making the hand-off?

DUDE:

Yeah.

He slips a little black box out of his shirt pocket.

DUDE:

...They gave Dude a beeper, so

whenever these guys call--

WALTER:

What if it's during a game?

DUDE:

I told him if it was during league

play--

Donny has been watching Quintana.

DONNY:

If what's during league play?

WALTER:

Life does not stop and start at your

convenience, you miserable piece of

sh*t.

DONNY:

What's wrong with Walter, Dude?

DUDE:

I figure it's easy money, it's all

pretty harmless. I mean she probably

kidnapped herself.

WALTER:

Huh?

DONNY:

What do you mean, Dude?

DUDE:

Rug-peers did not do this. I mean

look at it. Young trophy wife.

Marries a guy for money but figures

he isn't giving her enough. She

owes money all over town--

WALTER:

That...f***ing...b*tch!

DUDE:

It's all a goddamn fake. Like Lenin

said, look for the person who will

benefit. And you will, uh, you know,

you'll, uh, you know what I'm trying

to say--

DONNY:

I am the Walrus.

WALTER:

That f***ing b*tch!

DUDE:

Yeah.

DONNY:

I am the Walrus.

WALTER:

Shut the f*** up, Donny! V.I. Lenin!

Vladimir Ilyich Ulyanov!

DONNY:

What the f*** is he talking about?

WALTER:

That's f***ing exactly what happened,

Dude! That makes me f***ing SICK!

DUDE:

Yeah, well, what do you care, Walter?

DONNY:

Yeah Dude, why is Walter so pissed

off?

WALTER:

Those rich fucks! This whole f***ing

thing-- I did not watch my buddies

die face down in the muck so that

this f***ing strumpet--

DUDE:

I don't see any connection to Vietnam,

Walter.

WALTER:

Well, there isn't a literal

connection, Dude.

DUDE:

Walter, face it, there isn't any

connection. It's your roll.

WALTER:

Have it your way. The point is--

DUDE:

It's your roll--

WALTER:

The f***ing point is--

DUDE:

It's your roll.

VOICE:

Are you ready to be f***ed, man?

They both look up.

Quintana, on his way out, looks down at them from the lip of

the lanes. Over his polyester all-in-one he now wears a

windbreaker with a racing stripe and "Jesus" stitched on the

breast. He is holding a fancy black-and-red leather ball

satchel (perhaps a Sylvia Wein). Behind him stands his

partner, O'Brien, a short fat Irishman with tufted red hair.

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