The Boondock Saints Page #19

The boys put their faces close to his and demask. They start

laughing but Rocco just lays there, wide-eyed, in shock.

They boys saunter to the bar. Rocco takes a long beat.

ROCCO:

What did you do?! F***in'... what

the f***in' f***! Who the f***, f***ed

this f***in'? f***. How did you two

f***in', fucks?......... F***!!!

CONNOR:

Certainly illustrates the diversity

of the word.

The brothers laugh.

ROCCO:

What the f*** are you doing here?

What, huh!? WHAT? WHAT? WHAT? ANSWERS!

I WANT F***IN' ANSWERS!

CONNOR:

(slaps his face)

Get a hold of yourself, man.

Rocco is silent and surprised. Murphy, also surprised, looks

at Rocco. All is quiet.

MURPHY:

Yeah, get a hold of yourself.

Murphy jokingly slaps Rocco a second time. Rocco instantly

jumps on Murphy, cursing and punching. The brothers burst

into laughter as they subdue Rocco. As he calms down, they

release him.

CONNOR:

Listen, we gotta get outta here now.

We'll take separate exits and meet

at Rocco's.

Murphy puts the two suitcases in his duffle bag and the two

brush by Rocco who is still unsatisfied with his explanation.

ROCCO:

F***!

BACK TO PRESENT INT. ROCCO'S APARTMENT NIGHT

Rocco has removed his hotel jacket.

ROCCO:

Anybody you think is evil?

CONNOR:

Yes.

ROCCO:

Don't you think that's a little

psycho? A little weird?

CONNOR:

Weird, huh?... Know what I think is

weird? Decent men with loving families

go home every day after work. They

turn on the news and see rapists,

murderers, and child molesters all

getting out of prison.

MURPHY:

Mafiosos getting caught with 20 kilos

and walkin' on bail the same day.

CONNOR:

Little girls catchin' stray bullets

in their heads, playin' hopscotch in

their front yards. And everyone thinks

the same thing... Someone should

just go kill those motherfuckers.

MURPHY:

Kill em all. Admit it, even you've

thought about it.

Rocco ponders this as the boys continue to clean their

weapons.

ROCCO:

You guys should be in every major

city.

The boys chuckle. Rocco steadily works himself into a humorous

frenzy.

ROCCO:

This is some heavy sh*t. This is

like Lone Ranger-heavy man. F*** it!

There's so much sh*t that pisses me

off. You guys should recruit 'cause

I am sick and f***in' tired of walkin'

down the street waitin' for one of

these a**holes to get me, y'know?

MURPHY:

(chuckling)

Hallelujah, Jaffar.

ROCCO:

So you're not just talkin' mob guys.

You're talkin' anyone, right? Even

like pimps and drug dealers and all

that sh*t?

The boys look at each other and nod.

ROCCO:

Well f***, you guys could do this

every day.

MURPHY:

We're like 7-Eleven. We ain't always

doing business, but we're always

open.

CONNOR:

Nicely put.

INT. ROCCO'S APARTMENT NIGHT ONE HOUR LATER

The three are partying hard. There's a pizza surrounded by

Guinness cans as they whoop it up, sitting at the round table.

Rocco wears one of the masks. They're all drunk. The house

cat is lounging on the table comfortably.

ROCCO:

You f***in' guys. You ruined me. I'm

f***in' done. Permanent package boy.

MURPHY:

Who says that? You could take credit

on it.

ROCCO:

What are you serious?

MURPHY:

Yeah, f*** it. If you think about

it, it's all you can do really. You

can't tell him it was us. Go in

braggin' and sh*t.

CONNOR:

Climb the corporate ladder, boy. Don

Rocco.

ROCCO:

F*** it! I'm doing it. I deserve it.

I've been working for those fat

bastards since I was in high school

and look at this place.

The boys nod in agreement.

ROCCO:

(working into a frenzy)

They're f***in' me man! Hey, they

can suck my pathetic little dick.

And I'll dip my nuts in marinara

just so the fat fucks can get a taste

of home while they're at it. That's

it, it's done, I'm doing it.

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