The Boondock Saints Page #10

DOC:

Why don't you make like a tree and

get the f*** outta here!

The locals roll their eyes at Doc's blunder.

CONNOR:

Calm down, Doc. I'm sure they're

reasonable fellows.

He and Murphy each grab a Guinness and a shot of Hennessey

and they approach the Russians with the peace offering.

CONNOR:

Listen fellas, Y'know he's got 'til

this week's end. Ya don't have ta be

hard asses, do ya?

MURPHY:

Yeah, it's St. Patty's day. Everyone's

Irish tonight. Now, why don't ya

pull up a stool and have a drink

with us?

CHECKOV:

You insult me. I would never drink

that sewage. Especially with you

people. You are fools.

Checkov slaps the beer to the floor.

CHECKOV:

This is no game! If you won't go, we

will make you go!

The boys look at each other, remembering what Mom said.

They still hold the shots.

CONNOR:

If ya want a fight, you can see you're

outnumbered. We're trying ta be civil

here, so I suggest you take our offer.

CHECKOV:

I make the offers, ass-hole.

Rocco pushes off the bar. He's had enough.

ROCCO:

(standing between the

two brothers)

Hey, there Boris. What would you say

if I told you that your pinko, commie

mother sucked so much dick...

Wham! Ivan punches him in the face. He is quickly down and

out. Connor and Murphy's faces turn to stone as they speak

the next few lines in flawless fluent Russian with English

subtitles.

CONNOR:

"Now, that wasn't too polite, was

it?"

MURPHY:

"I'm afraid we can't let that one

go, Ivan."

Checkov is completely taken aback. All the Irish are fairly

impressed as well.

CONNOR:

I don't think Ma would mind.

They clink the glasses together, throw back the Hennessey,

ball up the thick glasses in their fists, drop to one knee

and both deliver a devastating blow to each of Checkov's

quads. Murphy on the left, Connor on the right. He's down

for the count, writhing on the floor.

The boy's each take a Russian guy and start fighting as the

others start kicking and spitting on Checkov. This is a bar

brawl, lots of punches don't connect. Connor dismantles his

man quickly. Murphy is still fighting as all the Irish try

to jump in and help Murphy but Connor goes into psycho mode,

pushing them all back.

CONNOR:

Let the boy go. He knows what the

f*** he's doing!

They all back off and start to cheer him on. Murphy and Vladdy

are ripping each other apart. Vladdy backs him against a

wall and pulls back, exhausted, for one good punch. Murphy

reaches up behind his head with both hands and pulls two

bottles of wine from a wall rack. He swings them toward each

other with Vladdy's head as the mid-point. The bottles

haphazardly connect, one on each side of his head. He crumples

to the ground in an explosion of glass and wine.

There is shock and silence.

CONNOR:

Nicely done, boy!

INT. MCGINTY'S PUB NIGHT A FEW MINUTES LATER

They have Ivan Checkov tied down to the bar on his stomach.

Connor stands with an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips

next to Ivan. He pours Hennessey all over Checkov's buttocks.

They all cheer. Ivan's face is battered as Rocco wakes and

approaches. He punches Checkov in the face in complete rage.

Two friends subdue him as all chuckle.

CONNOR:

Now, like my fine brother says, on

St. Patty's everyone's Irish. And

this piece of sh*t is about to be

initiated.

As they cheer, Connor lights up his smoke and tosses the

match on Ivan's butt.

The Hennessey is instantly ablaze and Checkov is screaming

and wiggling in horror. Some just stand there stunned, but

most of the remaining onlookers leap to Ivan's aid. They

furiously pat him out and turn on Connor.

FRIEND #1

Are ya tryin' ta kill him, ya f***?

INT. CONNOR AND MURPHY'S APT EARLY NEXT MORNING

Connor and Murphy, fairly beat up, sit up on their beds.

They wear tattered bathrobes and boxer shorts. They put their

feet down into their leather boots. The boys examine the

extent of one another's injuries and reflect on their

hangovers. They both laugh and grab their heads in pain.

Boom! The door breaks open and in hobbles Checkov and Vladdy,

guns drawn. Checkov is all beat up and the ass of his pants

is burnt out. A bulky bandage covers his buttocks. Vladdy

has a large bandage around his head. The boys stand in

surprise.

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