The Hustler Page #3

Placing his cigarette on the wooden rim of the table, Fats rams the cue

ball into the pack, dropping the six ball into the pocket. The table is

now his. Eddie sits down unhappily. Fats plays quickly, moving from

shot to shot with studied authority, his eyes and hands working

fluidly together.

FATS:

Fifteen in the corner ...

(shot goes in)

Ace in the side.

The shot goes in. As Eddie watches, the prancing, elegant Fats

maneuvers around the table.

FATS:

Eight.

(shot goes in)

Ten ...

(shot goes in)

Eleven.

The shot goes in.

EDDIE:

(whispers, to Charlie)

Boy, he is great! Jeez, that old fat man. Look

at the way he moves. Like a dancer.

FATS:

Twelve. Cross side.

We see Fats' bejeweled fingers curl around the cue stick, the stick

then darting out to send a ball caroming off a far bank and into a side

pocket.

EDDIE (o.s.)

And them fingers, them chubby fingers. And that

stroke. It's like he's, uh, like he's playing a

violin or something.

FATS:

Nine ball.

(shot goes in)

Three ball.

Fats keeps sinking shots.

DISSOLVE TO:

9 INT. THE GAME AT AMES - TIME LAPSE

It is eleven o'clock. Eddie is up. The crowd at Ames sits stolidly in

their seats, watching each player, each move.

EDDIE:

Four ball.

The shot goes in and he lines up another.

EDDIE:

Cross-corner.

The shot is a difficult one involving a combination of balls. As it

rolls in, the crowd breaks into applause, and Fats bangs the butt of

his cue stick on the floor to show his appreciation.

SAUSAGE:

Game.

DISSOLVE TO:

10INT. THE GAME AT AMES - TIME LAPSE

A high angle of the table. Fats plays defensively, playing a safety,

leaving Eddie with little to shoot at.

FATS:

Safe.

So Eddie does the same.

EDDIE:

Safe.

Fats peers at the pack of balls huddled together, then points to one

that lies in the middle of the pack.

FATS:

Seven ball in the corner.

Big John looks around -- the shot seems impossible. Fats slams the cue

ball into the pack. The balls carom outward in all directions. Only the

seven rolls slowly into the corner pocket. Eddie slumps back in his

seat as the crowd applauds.

DISSOLVE TO:

11 INT. THE GAME AT AMES - TIME LAPSE

It is twelve o'clock, and Fats dominates the play. As he calls out the

litany of his shots, we see, superimposed over his hands and his face

and the sound of socking pool balls, the spectators, stupefied by the

action; Charlie, swallowing hard; Eddie, looking on, waiting to play;

and the bills endlessly unfolding out of Charlie's hands and floating

onto the table.

DISSOLVE TO:

12 INT. THE GAME AT AMES - TIME LAPSE

One-thirty and Fats is still shooting.

FATS:

Ace in the corner.

The shot rolls in.

CHARLIE:

(darkly, to Eddie)

Quit. He's too good.

EDDIE:

Charlie, I'm gonna take him.

FATS (o.s.)

Your shot.

EDDIE:

You miss?

(goes to the table

and chalks his cue)

Well, you don't leave much when you miss, do you,

fat man?

FATS:

(from his seat)

That's what the game's all about.

EDDIE:

Mm hm ... Two ball, side pocket.

The shot goes in. Fats pounds his stick on the floor. No one else makes

a noise.

FATS:

Very good shot.

EDDIE:

You know I gotta hunch, fat man. I gotta hunch

it's me from here on in ... One ball, corner

pocket.

(shot goes in)

I mean, that ever happen to you? When all of a

sudden you feel like you can't miss? I dreamed

about this game, fat man. I dreamed about this

game every night on the road ... five ball ...

(shot goes in)

You know, this is my table, man. I own it.

Fats allows a perfunctory bow of his head, a courtly gesture, to

Eddie's manager. Charlie looks away, avoiding his eyes.

DISSOLVE TO:

13INT. THE GAME AT AMES - TIME LAPSE

It is two-thirty. Now it's Eddie's voice we hear calling out the shots.

He circles the table, a proud, cocky smile on his face, and

superimposed over his movements we see the spectators, hunched up in

their chairs, and Fats' face, glowering, hostile.

SAUSAGE:

Rack.

The applause grows louder as the balls keep spinning toward the pockets.

DISSOLVE TO:

14INT. THE GAME AT AMES - TIME LAPSE

SAUSAGE:

Game!

Eddie beams with pride and excitement as he accepts the acclamation of

the sharks at Ames. He slaps down the chalk and returns to his seat. It

is almost four o'clock.

EDDIE:

Pay the man again, Fats.

Fats draws himself slowly out of his chair and hands the money to

Charlie.

EDDIE:

(to Charlie)

Hey, how much are we ahead?

CHARLIE:

Approximately? One thousand bucks.

EDDIE:

Fats, let's you and I shoot a game of pool for

a thousand dollars a game.

Fats hesitates for a moment, then reaches in his pocket for some bills.

FATS:

Preach! Go down and get me some White Tavern

whisky, a glass, and some ice.

EDDIE:

Preacher! Go on down and get me some bourbon.

J. T. S. Brown. No ice, no glass.

FATS:

Preach ... get it at Johnny's.

(to Eddie)

You got a bet.

They stand up, remove their jackets, and prepare to play again.

CUT TO:

15INT. JOHNNY'S BAR, THE BACK ROOM - NIGHT

As Preacher opens the door to the back room, clutching a paper bag

filled with bottles to his chest, we see six men seated around a table,

playing poker. Preacher approaches one of them and whispers something

hurriedly in his ear. The man is Bert Gordon. Except for his dark

glasses, he might pass for a conservative businessman out for an

evening with the boys, sipping milk instead of alcohol to soothe an

ulcer. He nods to Preacher who then leaves. Bert appears thoughtful

for a moment. He rises.

BERT GORDON:

Cash me in.

Bert sips his milk.

CUT TO:

16 INT. THE GAME AT AMES - EARLY MORNING

A floor full of cigarette butts surround Charlie's chair. Charlie

crushes out another on the floor and immediately reaches for more.

FATS (o.s.)

Two in the corner.

(shot goes in)

Seven.

The shot gos in. Eddie drains the last drips from his bottle of

bourbon, then looks jauntily at Bert, who now sits quietly in a chair,

watching them both.

FATS:

Ace in the corner.

He misses. Eddie squirms out of his seat, eager to play, eager to go on

winning. Bert sighs.

EDDIE:

Two ball, side pocket.

The shot goes in. Fats opens a fresh bottle of whisky.

DISSOLVE TO:

17INT. THE GAME AT AMES - TIME LAPSE

The game goes on. The hands of the clock on the wall spin around toward

eight in the morning. Ames is empty now, except for the players and the

employees. Only the voice of Sausage is heard, signaling the end of a

game.

DISSOLVE TO:

18 INT. THE GAME AT AMES - TIME LAPSE

As Fats bends over to shoot, Henry draws the Venetian blinds.

FATS:

Will you cut that sunshine out?

Bert holds a hand to his temple, unnerved by Fats' discomposure.

DISSOLVE TO:

19INT. THE GAME AT AMES - TIME LAPSE

There is a break in the action. Fats and Eddie eye each other coldly,

Fats with his glass in his hand, Eddie with his bottle. Eddie takes a

swig and returns to the game.

DISSOLVE TO:

20 INT. THE GAME AT AMES - TIME LAPSE

Bert reaches forward to hand Charlie more money. Bert replaces the

billfold in his coat pocket.

DISSOLVE TO:

21INT. THE GAME AT AMES - TIME LAPSE

Eddie, weary now, his hands resting on the table, looks up at the cool,

impassive face of Bert Gordon.

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