The Ladykillers Page #12

DORR:

I gather there was a premature

detonation--

GAWAIN:

They can sew that sh*t back on, jack!

Like that guy his wife cut his dick

off! Just sewed that motherf***er

back on!

PANCAKE:

Of course. Simplest thing in the

world. Microsurgery--

GAWAIN:

Saw that motherf***er in a porno!

Thing still works!

Pancake is pale from loss of blood and his pontifications

lack full conviction:

PANCAKE:

Oh yes, they have remarkable abilities

in the, uh...

EXT. MUNSON HOUSE - NIGHT

Quiet.

The two women sit in the idling car, looking at the house.

From the house there is very muted bellowing.

Still looking toward the house, Mrs. Munson offers a word of

explanation to her friend:

MRS. MUNSON

They using the house to practice

music a the rococo.

ROSALIE:

Mmmm-hm.

INT. MUNSON HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

The cat, with a human finger in its mouth, sidles cautiously

to one side, warily eying someone.

VOICES (O.S.)

Get him!

The General, pluming cigarette in his mouth, tensed arms

extended outwards, sidles cautiously to cut him off.

DORR:

I propose that we get our fallen

comrade to the hospital, and the

General shall follow when he manages

to recover the severed digit.

PANCAKE:

I don't know what all the fuss is

about.

The cat jumps.

The General leaps to follow.

EXT. MUNSON HOUSE - NIGHT

The two women looking.

The front door of the house opens. Lump, the Professor, and

Gawain emerge, escorting Pancake. Just before Gawain finishes

closing the door the cat slips out.

MRS. MUNSON

PICKLES!

The door is yanked fully open and the General races out after

the cat.

MRS. MUNSON

...You catch Pickles now!

The cat races across the lawn and, with no break in stride,

up his favorite tree.

The General follows and, also without breaking stride,

clambers up the tree after it.

Tree limbs shake with activity hidden by the leaves. We hear

the hiss of the cat.

The men are bundling Pancake into the hearse. Dorr calls to

the women before climbing in:

DORR:

The house is perfectly in order, but

we need medical attention for Mr.

Pancake who, during the disturbance,

pinched his finger in a valve of the

sackbutt.

The cat leaps out of the tree and runs away down the road.

MRS. MUNSON

You let the cat out!

The General leaps out of the tree to land catlike on the

street, arms tensed, casts a look both ways, and then pursues

the animal down the road. We hear the retreating padding

footsteps of all six feet.

DORR:

The General is even now exercising

every effort to retrieve your

mischievous little pet. Please go,

go and enjoy your concert, and we

shall see you later in the evening.

Au revoir, mes dames!

EXT. MISSISSIPPI RIVER - NIGHT

A new day. The garbage scow chugs down the mighty Mississippi.

It toots its horn.

INT. MUNSON HOUSE - CELLAR - NIGHT

CLOSE ON SCHEMATIC MAP

It shows the underground complex and, stretching towards it

in a line drawn with a blunt pencil, is the tunnel. It is

now almost to the vault.

A violin bow enters to tap at the line.

DORR (O.S.)

Despite our little setback we find

ourselves on schedule to penetrate

the vault...

The bow taps at the vault outline.

DORR:

...here, this afternoon, having

successfully blasted that little ol'

rock to pieces during Miz Munson's

choir practice.

The violin bow withdraws.

DORR:

...Clark, perhaps you can run us

through the game plan for what remains

of our tunnelin'.

A bandaged hand enters frame and a finger-stump points at

the end of the penciled line.

PANCAKE (O.S.)

Of course. Why, it's child's play

now, easiest thing in the world.

Only a couple of feet separate us

from the vault...

WIDER:

The men are clustered around the map, spread out on the

sackbutt case in the cellar. Clark continues:

PANCAKE:

...Just the usual spadework until we

hit the masonry of the vault, and

then we drill through.

DORR:

And will you be able to wield the

drill with your maimed extremity?

PANCAKE:

Oh, I should think so, it's only one

finger. Inhibits me in doing finer

work, of course. I'll always have to

live with that... Ahem. Maybe, and

I'm just thinking out loud here,

maybe since, as you say, it will

present problems later...

DORR:

Yes, Clark?

PANCAKE:

Well, maybe -- and this is something

I've talked over with Mountain Girl,

and she agrees with me, so it's not

just one person's opinion -- maybe I

should get a little extra compensation

for the accident.

A long, stony silence.

PANCAKE:

...Somewhat larger share. Why, if

this were any other line of work I'd

be getting workmen's comp, wouldn't

I? Might even have a pretty good

lawsuit.

GAWAIN:

You gonna sue yaself for blowin' off

your finger?

PANCAKE:

Well that is simply asinine--

DORR:

Yes but you see, Clark, this is not

what you just called "some other

line of work."

PANCAKE:

But if it were--

DORR:

This is a criminal enterprise, not

to put too fine a point on it,

entailin' all manner a risks not

involved in honest labor. Governmental

regulations an' civic safeguards

cannot be assumed to apply to

antisocial pursuits.

LUMP:

Yeah, but he lost his finger.

GAWAIN:

We don't give a sh*t! Man can blow

his own dick off, don't make no

nevermind to us! We don't gotta pay

the man for goin' around blowin' off

body parts! Getcha head outcha ass,

man!

PANCAKE:

Look, you--

DORR:

I think that in this instance Gawain

has a very excellent point. I--

GENERAL:

No extra share!

All stop and stare at the General.

Clark grumbles:

PANCAKE:

Well, okay, majority rules, like I

say, it was just a trial balloon.

Hand's not so bad really, I even get

some phantom feeling.

GAWAIN:

You pull on your prick you get phantom

feeling. Greedy motherfuck.

DORR:

Now that that matter is settled, let

us synchronize our watches before

Gawain reports to work. In... twenty

seconds... it will be twelve-sixteen

exactly... fifteen...

PANCAKE:

It will be twelve-fifteen?

DORR:

No, in fifteen seconds -- now eleven

seconds -- it will be twelve-

sixteen... eight...

LUMP:

Professor?

DORR:

Six... five -- yes, Lump?

LUMP:

I don't have a watch.

EXT. CASINO - DAY

It is the weathered doorway to the main entrance of the Lady

Luck. A hand enters to rap.

ELRON (O.S.)

Yeah?

GAWAIN:

Me, dickwad.

A low, chesty chuckle. The door swings open and Gawain enters.

INT. CASINO - DAY

RUMBLING WHEELS ON NUBBY FLOOR

A garbage bin is being wheeled across the empty casino floor.

WIDER:

Gawain is wheeling it. He is approaching the tunnel to the

corporate annex.

BACK TO THE WHEELS

As they roll down the tunnel.

INT. CHURCH - DAY

Loud singing at the cut. We are looking at Mrs. Munson in

the middle of the choir, holding forth in song.

INT. CASINO - SERVICE HALL - DAY

Gawain leans back against the wall next to the vault door,

arms folded across his chest. Faintly, from inside the vault,

we hear the whine of a power tool. Gawain leans over and

punches the button on boom box that hangs from the rolling

garbage bin. The hallway pulses with "I Left My Wallet In El

Segundo."

INT. CHURCH - DAY

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