The Ladykillers Page #11

All look at Pancake. Quiet, except for the delicate chamber

music.

Gawain's tone softens:

GAWAIN:

...You know what, man?

PANCAKE:

What, brother?

GAWAIN:

I don't vote. So f*** you.

Pancake darkens:

PANCAKE:

Why you f***ing--

GAWAIN:

And the bus you rode in on!

PANCAKE:

That's it!

He peels off his coat.

PANCAKE:

...Let's step outside, MacSam!

There is a knock on the cellar door. The men freeze

momentarily, then scramble for their instruments. The General

flips his cigarette backwards into his mouth.

Dorr turns off the boom box, then calls:

DORR:

Yes, madam?

The door opens and Mrs. Munson comes down the stairs, holding

a large plate covered by a checked napkin.

MRS. MUNSON

My friend Mrs. Funthes is here so

I'm about to go on out. I just wanted

to leave y'all with some cinnamon

cookies...

She takes the napkin off and carries the plate from person

to person; each obediently takes a cookie with a murmured

"Thank you, ma'am."

MRS. MUNSON

...Y'all sound pretty good. It'd be

nice if you'd come by the church

some day, give us a recital.

Dorr takes her by the arm and escorts her back to the stairs.

DORR:

Oh madam, you are too kind. Our music,

however, is -- how shall I put it? --

rather Roman in its outlook; many of

our pieces were commissioned by the

Holy See.

MRS. MUNSON

Oh, I see all right, but we don't

make a big whoop-dee-do about

denominations; everybody welcome at

our church. We've had Methodists

come in. Episcopals. Even had a Jew

come in once with a guitar back in

the sixties.

DORR:

Indeed. Excuse me, one moment, ma'am,

and I shall see you off...

They have reached the top of the stairs and the Professor

ushers her out but stays behind himself. He turns to address

the rest of the men below:

DORR:

...If you gentlemen can labor

harmoniously in the course of my

absence, then perhaps upon my return

we shall be prepared to explode that

vexin' ol' piece a igneous.

GAWAIN:

He's the motherfuckin' piece of

igneous.

INT. MUNSON HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

The Professor emerges from the cellar. Mrs. Munson awaits

with her friend who is likewise togged out in fancy Sunday

dress and carrying a shiny black purse.

MRS. MUNSON

Professor, this is Rosalie Funthes,

Rosalie, Professor G.H. Dorr, Ph.D.

ROSALIE:

Oh my, that's an awful lot of letters.

DORR:

Well of course in my youth I was

simply known as Goldthwait...

INT. MUNSON HOUSE - CELLAR - NIGHT

Pancake is taking the boom box off the table to clear some

space.

PANCAKE:

All right, safety meeting, let's

listen up. General, could you hand

me the prima cord and the compound

there. Before we set the charge we'll

run through our procedure.

Various paraphernalia are laid out on the table.

The cat sits in a corner of the cellar, watching carefully

and, it seems, listening attentively.

PANCAKE:

...I have earplugs for whoever wants

them. Just wedge them in your ears.

Now here we have -- not yet, Lump.

Lump stops putting in his earplugs.

PANCAKE:

...Now. Prima cord. Gelatinite. C4.

Time comes, we pack the hole in the

rock with the C4 and insert two leads.

A...

He holds up one lead.

PANCAKE:

...and B.

He holds up the other lead.

PANCAKE:

...Charge comes from a battery that

is inside this plunger. Ordinary

auto battery, you can pick it up at

Sears, easiest thing in the world...

EXT. MUNSON HOUSE - NIGHT

A black town car idles at the curb. Dorr is just escorting

the two ladies out the front door and down the stoop.

DORR:

I remember my father telling me --

and it is one of the few memories I

retain of the man, from one of his

visits home, and how I do cherish it --

he said, "Goldthwait, you are not

formed as other little boys."

ROSALIE:

Mm-mm.

MRS. MUNSON

He a man of learnin'?

DORR:

G.H. number two was self-educated;

he had no career, as such, though

the state recognized the breadth of

his readin' by making him librarian

at the state nervous hospital in

Meridian, where he was a distinguished

inmate.

INT. MUNSON HOUSE - CELLAR - NIGHT

Pancake sets down the two electrical leads and picks up a

hammer.

PANCAKE:

This is the same procedure we will

be using when we collapse the tunnel

after entering the casino vault and

returning to the root cellar.

He looks pointedly at Gawain.

PANCAKE:

...This is for your own protection,

so pay close attention. Once these

materials are combined only the

professionals may handle them. That

means me, or the General. Separately

they are harmless-completely inert.

Why, you could light this stuff on

fire, hit it with a hammer--

He swings the hammer down onto the plastique--

EXT. MUNSON HOUSE - NIGHT

--and there is the dull thud of an explosion and the house's

windows rattle in their frames.

The Professor, at the open door of the car into which the

two ladies have just sat, looks up at the house, as do the

ladies.

MRS. MUNSON

...What in the name of heaven was

that?

Dorr stares at the house, appalled.

DORR:

I'm... quite sure... that there is...

no cause for alarm...

He struggles for self-possession.

DORR:

...Why, I'm not even absolutely

certain that I heard anything at

all.

MRS. MUNSON

Didn't hear anything?!

DORR:

Well, something, perhaps, but...

Marva Munson starts to get out of the car.

DORR:

...nothing that need discompose us,

was the sense I was trying to

convey...

He urges her back into her seat.

DORR:

...Miz Munson, I will not have you

missing your musical recital. Why,

you go ahead now. Miz Funthes, you

as well, I beg of you...

He is backing up the walk.

DORR:

...I shall call the gas company, or

the water company, or whatever

subterranean utility is implicated

in this little... occurrence... I

shall see to the matter... as only a

highly educated classicist could.

At the door now, he gives the two women peering out the car

window a smiling but vigorous wave away, which they do not

heed, and then he enters.

INT. MUNSON HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

The room is filled with smoke.

Othar, slightly askew over the mantel, looks a little huffy.

We hear clomping and screaming on the cellar stairs.

Lump bursts out, shrieking:

LUMP:

Blood, Professor! Oh my God! Blood!

The General comes bounding up the stairs like a panther, a

cigarette burning in his lips. He lands catlike in the living

room, glides to the blubbering Lump, grabs one shoulder firmly

with one hand, and with the other slaps him sharply, once

forehand, once backhand.

Lump stares at him, shocked, his blubbering cut short.

More noise is coming from the stairs:

PANCAKE:

...why, it's nothing to make a fuss

about. Perfectly all right... happens

all the time...

GAWAIN:

...You gotta go find it, dipshit!

Pancake emerges from the stairwell, his hair singed, his

face and the front of his jumpsuit darkened by the blast. He

is clutching one hand with the other.

PANCAKE:

...No, no. Really, I'm perfectly all

right.

Gawain has ascended just behind to hector him over his

shoulder:

GAWAIN:

Perfectly all right? You just blew

your f***ing finger off!

PANCAKE:

Sure, but--

GAWAIN:

Well get back down there and find

it, man! I ain't pickin' up your

goddamn finger!

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