Tin Men Page #13

80.

91 CONTINUED:
91

WING (CONT'D)

I tell you what, I won sixteen

plus on the other race, from

those winnings you can bet me

eight hundred.

TILLEY:

Eight hundred?

WING:

Yeah... I wanna bet eight hundred

on Fordnee Lane.

TILLEY:

(feeling uncomfortable)

Fordnee lane -- eight hundred.

Sam is looking at Tilley knowing that he's really in a

jam.

TILLEY:

Eight hundred.

WING:

(calling to Waiter)

Waiter, can you get me a cup of

coffee?

Tilley looks over to Sam, with panic on his face. Wing

turns back to Tilley and Sam.

WING:

You guys want anything else?

TILLEY:

(nods "no")

Er... hum... er... hey, Wing...

I tell you, I got a problem.

WING:

What is it?

TILLEY:

It's the eight hundred on Fordnee

Lane. I haven't got it.

WING:

No, you got it wrong. You take

it from the sixteen plus I won...

the eight hundred.

(CONTINUED)

81.

91 CONTINUED:
(2) 91

TILLEY:

I haven't got the winnings.

WING:

(angry)

What do ya mean, you don't have

my winnings?

TILLEY:

Wing, it was the craziest thing...

I didn't want to mention it earlier

because it was so nuts... it was

the craziest thing.

WING:

What?

TILLEY:

I don't know how to even tell you

this without being embarrassed for

myself. It was an accident...

it's like one of those things out

of the blue... it's crazy... you

can't explain it... it happens.

WING:

(to Sam)

Sam, what is he talking about?

SAM:

(quietly)

He had an accident of some sort.

TILLEY:

It happens... I don't know how...

I don't know how to explain. It's

too crazy, I swear to God, Wing.

WING:

Wait a minute... you're telling

me that I didn't win the last race?

TILLEY:

You won, Wing... you won, it's just

that you're not getting any money...

it was a fluke. I swear, I don't

know how it could have happened.

A ten-year-old couldn't have made

the mistake I made... I don't

know, I swear.

(CONTINUED)

82.

91 CONTINUED:
(3) 91

WING:

(to Sam)

What the f*** is he talking about?

TILLEY:

If there was some way I could

make it up, believe me, I would,

because you know where I stand.

There's a beat while Wing just looks at Tilley.

TILLEY:

You know where I stand, Wing. If

there was any way, believe me, I'd

make it up. I'd give you thirty

percent of what you didn't get

because it was a fluke... I'm

willing to make some kind of

retribution.

WING:

You just pocketed the God damned

money... you just took my money

and slipped it into your God

damned pocket, didn't you?

TILLEY:

No. I'd split fifty-fifty with

you, that's how badly I feel

under the circumstances.

WING:

You get this straight, you son

of a b*tch, you owe me sixteen

plus... I want sixteen plus.

TILLEY:

Am I trying to shirk my

responsibility? That's not the

way I see it... it was a fluke,

a crazy thing that happened, but

I stand behind my honor on this...

put it on my tab.

WING:

(to Sam)

What the hell is wrong with him?

What the hell is wrong with him?

He's stealing money from me...

what the hell is wrong with him?

Can you tell me?

(CONTINUED)

83.

91 CONTINUED:
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SAM:

I don't know the whole story.

WING:

You work with him, Sam... for

Christ sake...

Wing is totally frustrated.

TILLEY:

What do you mean, wrong? It was

a fluke... it was an accident.

I don't know what the hell went

wrong. It was a one-in-a-million

thing that happened to me when Iwent to place that bet. I'm

trying to do what I can.

WING:

(shaking his head)

Tilley, what the hell happenedto you?

CUT TO:

92 EXT. RACETRACK - LATE AFTERNOON 92

Tilley and Sam are leaving the racetrack and walking toTilley's Cadillac.

SAM:

Why didn't you at least give himthe six hundred that you pocketedfrom the six races he lost?

TILLEY:

F*** him! It's on my tab. At

least I've got six hundred in mypocket right now. It's like

another loan. Sam, you got tothink about today. Today, Igot six hundred bucks in mypocket. You know what I'm saying?

Yeah.

SAM:

(CONTINUED)

84.

92 CONTINUED:
92

TILLEY:

It's like some guy trying to sell

me life insurance. You think I'm

gonna take some money out of my

pocket to give to some jerk so

that somebody can take it when

I'm dead? No, Sam, you gotta

live for today. I'm gonna live

as good as I can every day. You

know what I'm saying?

As Sam and Tilley walk towards Tilley's Cadillac, BB and

Moe are walking to BB's Cadillac parked close to Tilley's

car. They see each other.

TILLEY:

(yelling to BB)

Hey, Mr. Marengay went to the

track!

BB:

Did you bother to bet, or did

you just hand your money to the

tellers?

TILLEY:

(laughing)

The sarcasm's killing me.

(beat)

I thought you were looking to

get even.

BB:

Who's your accountant, mister,

'cos I think you're down in the

debit side.

TILLEY:

Who's stuck with my wife. You or

me?

He laughs.

BB:

You want me to believe that you

were setting me up with your

wife as some kind of decoy?

TILLEY:

Decoy is the word!

There's a long beat as the two guys eye one another.

Then, almost in a soft apologetic manner, BB speaks.

(CONTINUED)

85.

92 CONTINUED:
(2)

BB:

Okay then, you win.

BB gets into his car.

TILLEY:

I win?

(to Sam)

That guy would never let me win.

He must be setting me up. The

son of a b*tch is setting me up,

Sam.

92

SAM:

For crying out loud, why don'tyou just leave it at that... youwin.

TILLEY:

I couldn't have won.

(beat)

I smell a rat.

BB's car pulls away. Tilley and Sam watch him go.

CUT TO:

93 INT. BB'S CADILLAC - DAY 93

BB's driving and Moe is in the passenger seat.

MOE:

BB, I think you're getting alittle humility in your blood.

BB:

If getting Nora is part of losing,

Thank God I didn't win.

CUT TO:

94 EXT. OLD TOBACCO WAREHOUSE - DAY 94

A temporary sign is posted on the door and a painteris filling in the name -- "HOME IMPROVEMENT COMMISSION."

CUT TO:

86.

95 INT. TOBACCO WAREHOUSE - OFFICE - DAY 95

This is the office of the Home Improvement Commission.

Desks, chairs and filing cabinets are all over the place

(not yet organized) and boxes and cartons are stacked

against a wall. ANGLE ON John Masters walking with a

file under his arm. He walks across the half-empty

warehouse where workers are renovating the space. He

approaches a table where Stanley is seated with his

feet up, nursing a hot cup of coffee. Masters throws a

file down on the table.

MASTERS:

This is good, Stan... nice work.

Stanley nods.

MASTERS:

Fossey says it should go down

very well with the city council.

Could help us appropriate more

funds. This goes a long way

to establish our credibility in

what we're trying to do.

We hear a LOUD, SAWING noise and HAMMERING echoing

through the warehouse throughout this scene.

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