The Boondock Saints Page #18

CONNOR:

We're doing some serious sh*t here.

Now, get a hold of yourself, a**hole.

MURPHY:

A**hole!? I'm not the rope-totin'

Charlie Bronson wanna-be that's

getting' us lost!

CONNOR:

Sh, sh! F*** you!

Connor grabs Murphy's shirt.

MURPHY:

No, f*** you!

The boys get into a close quarters battle. An occasional

insult is thrown as feet kick and fists fly. They begin to

get tangled in their own rope. The seam of the duct breaks

and a tangled mess of rope and MacManuses pour out.

INT. PLAZA HOTEL SUITE NIGHT

They crash through the ceiling right above the fat man's

head. The rope gets caught and slams the boys to a halt,

hanging them upside down, back to back about six feet above

the floor. They are turning in circles. The boss is balled

up in the fetal position on the floor. The shocked Russians

say only a word or two in panic before the MacManus brothers

react, reaching for their guns. The Russians start to reach

for their guns. It's too late. The boys draw and fire as

they spin. Taking four shots apiece.

There are eight dead Russians. Chests explode as they fall

back on the couch in a loose circle. One victims is blasted

over the couch.

They notice the fat man directly beneath them. Murphy grabs

his Rambo knife, reaches up and cuts the rope. They land in

a heap, scramble over to the doomed man and place him on his

knees. They each put a gun to the back of his head and recite

this prayer in perfect unison.

BOTH:

And shepherds we shall be. For thee,

my Lord, for thee. Power hath

descended forth from thy hand that

our feet may swiftly carry out thy

command. So we shall flow a river

forth to thee and teeming with souls

shall it ever be. E nomini patri, et

Fili e spiritu sancti.

With the silenced pop from their guns we cut the sound and

go to black and white. (Slo-mo) Choral music starts with

Latin script being read in the background. They take their

rosaries out. They slowly walk around, mumbling prayers as

they care for the dead. They gently turn over the bodies

that were on their stomachs. They brush the hair back from

the victims faces. They place pennies in the eyes of al the

corpses. When they finish their ritual, they pull off their

masks and look at each other. They start to grin and look

around. They work each other into a healthy chuckle.

CONNOR:

(looks up)

That was some good f***in' rope.

They both laugh.

MURPHY:

That was way easier than I thought.

CONNOR:

Aye.

MURPHY:

On TV ya always get that a**hole

that jumps behind the couch.

CONNOR:

Yeah, and ya gotta shoot at him for

ten minutes.

MURPHY:

Oh, we're good man.

CONNOR:

Yes, we are.

They are already striding for a suitcase full of money.

Murphy picks up a wad of bills.

MURPHY:

I love our new job.

Just then, there's a knock at the door. They snap into action.

They stand at each side of the double doors, looking through

the peepholes. They see Rocco on the other side dressed as a

hotel employee. He wears a polyester shirt with gold trim

and a name tag that reads Jaffar. He has a good cart in front

of him.

They look at each other and grin. Murphy nods. As they open

the door, Murphy grabs the food cart and pulls it in.

Connor seizes the mortified Rocco and pulls him in, slamming

the door shut behind him. They run, dragging him and then

throw him in the midst of the bodies. They put their guns

right in his face.

ROCCO:

Oh, God! Don't kill me! We're on the

same side! The boss musta sent you

in as back up, huh? Oh, sh*t, please!

I'm Rocco. I'm the funny man.

(almost crying)

They call me the funny f***in' man!

CONNOR:

(attempting to hide

accent)

Where's your gun?

ROCCO:

Chest pocket.

(they take it)

Sh*t!

CONNOR:

This is a six-shooter.

MURPHY:

(hiding accent)

Nine bodies.

CONNOR:

Oh, you're good. What were you gonna

do? Laugh the last three to death,

funny man?

ROCCO:

Poppa Joe said there was only two.

In and out.

(trying to make friends)

Boy, you guys sure did a good job.

You're good, huh? Cool masks. Where'd

you get them?

CONNOR:

Let's do him right here.

MURPHY:

Right now.

ROCCO:

(screaming like a

baby)

Don't kill me. Oh sh*t, please no.

I'm Rocco. I'm the funny man!... the

funny man... the funny.

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