The Boondock Saints Page #26

Rocco gets serious and nods his head. Connor replaces the

clip in his gun and hands it to Rocco. Murphy does the same.

He stands with one in each hand, aiming one gun at each door.

The boys both place a finger on the appropriate orange

buttons, as Rocco slowly c*cks his head back. With wide eyes

he thrusts his head forward. The doors fly up. Rocco fires

both guns yelling "Yeah, take it, take it!" Both the drug

dealer from outside and the pimp from the emergency room are

destroyed. Rocco then crosses his arms and fires two more

shots from each gun. On the opposing walls of each booth two

identical bullet holes appear.

ROCCO:

Wyatt-f***in'-Earp, man!

INT. SIN BIN JUST OUTSIDE THE PRIVATE BOOTH MINUTES LATER

Rocco shuts the door.

ROCCO:

You guys gotta teach me that prayer,

man. That's some good sh*t.

CONNOR:

Forget it. It's a family prayer. My

father, his father before him that

sort of sh*t.

ROCCO:

C'mon!

INT. RITZY RESTAURANT BATHROOM NIGHT

An old man appears to look at himself in the mirror of an

empty but very upper class bathroom. His eyes are very glazed

over. He puts a large leather case on the counter near the

sinks. A red and white blind stick hangs off his right

forearm.

Yakavetta enters, crosses behind him and stands next to him.

AUGUSTUS (72 years) sniffs the air. A look of angry

realization overtakes his face.

AUGUSTUS:

F*** you.

YAKAVETTA:

Hey, Augustus, I need your help, I

got a serious problem here. I'm not

screwing around.

AUGUSTUS:

I bounced you on my knee at family

reunions, for Christ sakes. Your dad

and me ran the whole east coast

syndicate you snot-nosed little prick.

And when you took the wheel, who was

beside you?

Augustus begins to remove items from his suitcase. First a

plate. He sets it down next to the sink. Then assorted

colognes, cigarettes and chewing gum. He begins arranging

them in neat rows, always feeling with his guiding hands.

YAKAVETTA:

Hey, I just...

AUGUSTUS:

Don't start with your sh*t. Don't

you talk to me. Oh, hey Uncle Gussy,

thanks for years of service. Here's

a gold watch and a job sniffing other

guys' sh*t eight hours a day. What

am I, a retired bus driver?

YAKAVETTA:

I need Il Duce.

AUGUSTUS:

The Duke?

(beat)

What did you do?

YAKAVETTA:

This kid, this package boy could

bring down the whole east coast. If

he decides to turn states he could

dismantle us... totally. But it looks

like for now, he's content with just

killing us one by one. And even worse

the kid is good at it. I mean I had

a prodigy on my hands the whole time

and didn't even know it.

Yakavetta puts an envelope of money in the plate.

AUGUSTUS:

Listen kid, I think you better

understand who you're dealing with

here.

YAKAVETTA:

Yeah. I was only twelve or thirteen

when you guys used to talk about

him, like he was a ghost or something.

AUGUSTUS:

Your dad and I used him three times

over twenty years, only when

everything went totally f***ed.

Believe me kid, you don't want this

guy unless you are 100% sure you

need him. He is... a f***in' monster.

INT. PRISON PROCESSING ROOM DAY

This is a gigantic three tiered room with guards on all tiers.

They all cock their shotguns.

A PRISONER is shackled barefoot to a small metal cart on

wheels. His hands are cuffed before him with a chain linking

his hands and feet. A guard is pulling the cart through the

prison to the parole board room by a long chain. The cons

have their mirrors out to get a better look. His face is in

shadow as he bows his head.

A metal cage is lowered around him from the ceiling. The

parole board looks him over. A stenographer sits poised

MR. COBB

(English accent)

Do you feel you have been

rehabilitated?

No response is given by the prisoner. The stenographer looks

at MR. COBB who gives her the nod. She begins typing though

no words are spoken.

INT. RITZY RESTAURANT BATHROOM DAY

AUGUSTUS:

I've had this guy in front of me,

and I couldn't tell you what he looks

like, sounds like. He is the Picasso

of assassins, kid. He plants hair

samples, blood. Puts skin under

fingernails. He is a f***ing genius.

Only one problem. He's been rotting

in prison for twenty-five or thirty

years. Don't even know if he's still

alive. Or if he's even up to it.

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