The Ice Harvest Page #6

"so falls Wichita Falls. "

I like that.

And I'm gonna give your

p*ssy-whipped pal Arglist...

another 15 minutes

to rescue your sweet ass.

After which time I'm going to assume

his brain overruled his pecker.

Well, Bill,

that's just not enough time.

He lives way across town.

Yeah? Well, that's your bad luck.

I should be home in Kansas City...

watching my kids

open their Christmas presents!

Now I gotta waste

the whole f***ing day...

looking for that nitwit!

I'll never understand lawyers.

I mean, here they've got a license

to steal from the general public...

all legal and aboveboard,

but is that enough?

F***, no! They gotta

steal from their friends!

Anybody

but a f***ing lawyer...

would consider

the consequences, right?

That I would,

for an absolute certainty...

castrate that son of a b*tch

with a butter knife.

And that would give

a normal person pause.

But not a lawyer.

It defies the imagination,

you know.

How a woman like you could throw

in with a couple of farthammers...

like Cavanaugh and Arglist.

Cavanaugh, he doesn't

have the brains...

to pull off

something like this.

And Arglist,

he doesn't have the guts.

Maybe that's where you

came in, huh?

What did you do?

Did you encourage them both?

Suppose you do luck out...

and you get clear of Wichita

with all that money.

At some point...

you're gonna have to get rid of

at least one of the peckerwoods.

And then what do you got?

A dick with no brain?

Or a brain with no dick?

You know what, Bill?

You seem awfully tense.

And I have this idea

of what might help you relax.

You do, huh?

Mmm-hmm.

That you, Arglist?

Drop the gun.

Step away from the desk

and put your hands up.

Charlie,

don't be a f***ing idiot.

You've been watching

too many stupid old movies.

Why would I drop my gun?

I don't know, Bill.

Because I got

a big f***ing shotgun...

and I'll blow your head off?

Well, if you could do that,

you'd be me...

and I'd be a pissant lawyer

with a case of the shakes.

Jesus, Charlie,

just shoot him!

If he was gonna

pull the trigger...

he'd have done it when he came

through the door, girlie.

It's something they don't

teach you in law school.

Which is a shame,

because...

Get his gun, Charlie.

Get his gun.

He's dead, Renata.

The f*** he is! Sidney

loads that with birdshot!

Why would he? I mean...

Charlie.

...from a liability standpoint,

that doesn't make any sense at all.

Charlie!

Well, Arglist...

now you've truly gone

and sh*t in your nest!

All right, girlie.

You first.

Mr. Guerrard?

What's going on?

Come here!

B*tch!

Charlie.

I don't know why

I even bother with Kansas.

Do I hear an "amen"?

My old man tried

to tell me...

that I'd be better off

starting a church...

and letting Jesus pay

for the mortgage...

in this sorry-ass

backwards state.

I wouldn't listen.

Instead...

I put my faith

in naked women and hand jobs.

Which have a proven track

record everywhere but here.

And now I've been disfigured

by a whisky-dick lawyer...

who imagines he can kill me

with a shotgun loaded for snake.

Serves me right.

That's all I can say.

All right, girlie...

this is the one

that's gonna kill you.

Bill.

Yuck!

I will say, after this...

the holidays are never gonna

feel quite the same to me.

How's the foot?

Shorter.

You don't happen to have

any morphine...

or Demerol or anything,

do you?

Try this.

I have to give you credit,

Charlie.

You took your own sweet time

rising to the occasion...

but in the end,

you did the deed.

'Deed you did.

You really came through,

Charlie.

The odds were definitely

against it, but somehow...

you managed to be

the last man standing.

I know what I wanted

to ask you.

What?

Where are you actually from?

Originally.

Why do you keep

asking questions, Charlie?

What's it got to do

with anything?

I was just curious.

Wanted to know

where you came from.

It's a long story,

Charlie.

I think we've got plenty of time

to get to know each other better.

Don't you?

Yeah.

I guess we do.

It's just you and me now,

Charlie.

To the victor go the spoils.

You saved my life,

Charlie.

You're a different man,

just like I promised.

Can you feel it?

Yes. I can.

Charlie.

What'd you do?

Oh! Damn stupid f***!

You stupid f***ing whore!

You dumb, dumb f***!

Your mother again?

Sh*t!

Hi, Charlie. Yeah.

Who else?

Loans me her camper and fails

to mention that it's out of gas.

If you've got a gas can,

you can siphon some from me.

Charlie.

I don't want you

to take this the wrong way...

but you're about

the nicest guy I know.

I'm awfully sorry to hear

that, Sidney, but thank you.

Have a good time

with your kids at Six Flags.

Merry Christmas.

Nuts! F***!

What was that?

Nothing.

Morning, Pete. Merry Christmas.

Merry Christmas, buddy.

Where are we?

We're in heaven.

Mmm.

They got pancakes?

They got everything.

Good.

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