PARTMENT BUILDING - DAY
Vito escorts a puzzled Eileen to the black Lincoln.
EILEEN: I'm sorry, but I didn't get exactly what's wrong with my phone line.
VITO: Don't worry, madam, you'll get explained at our office.
He helps her in the car, shuts the door behind her.
TONY: I don't like this, those idiots can't have planned it all by themselves! I bet there's Pipe and Beanie behind them!
GARRONE: No way, those two are even dumber. And they're also our best customers, we better be sure before going against them.
VITO: Now I get it, you gave them time to see who really set this up...
GARRONE: I gave them time 'cause we need the money. And for the arthritis, when I shoot my wrist hurts for a week.
TONY: Well, what if they call the police?
Garrone grins with the composure of a lifetime in crime.
GARRONE: They're too scared and they've got everything to loose, I wouldn't worry about that.
INT. DOWNTOWN POLICE STATION - DAY
A thousand phones ringing, busy cops rushing all over the place. BERNIE makes his way across the mess to keep up with CAPT. HARKINS, 50s, leather face and no time to spare.
HARKINS: I already told you, Bernie, no little checks and no courtesy visits. This is a police station, not a lonely hearts agency!
BERNIE: I know, but she never missed a date. I watched over her building for an hour and she didn't come back, my intuition tells me something's wrong with her.
HARKINS: The city's exploding and I'm out of men, if you had any intuition you should guess I got no time for your lady!
BERNIE: Well, actually we're just friends.
HARKINS: (stops by his office) Want a tip? Wait until tomorrow, buy your friend some flowers and everything will be fine.
Bernie sighs unconvinced as Harkins shuts the door on him...
INT. HARKINS' OFFICE - CONTINUOUS
...catching up to clumsy officers WOLAK and LEWIS, a Hardee's bag, and what looks just like a sachet full of coke.
HARKINS: Did you weigh it already?
LEWIS: 70, maybe 80 grand worth.
HARKINS: I bet who dumped it must have choked on his dinner! Saw any suspects around the place?
WOLAK: Well, there was this bum, the one we got the call for. (Hands Harkins the Mercedes badge) We found this near the coke, looks like he was trying to trade it for a burger.
HARKINS: Forget about the bum, okay? Contact all the ERs this side of town, get a check on last night admissions.
LEWIS: What are we looking for?
HARKINS: Cold turkeys. Maybe someone was left dry last night... (lays down the badge) and hopefully he can't wait to tell us because of whom.
CUT TO:
A BIG, BADGELESS, CHROMED GRILL
PIPE (O.S.): I'm asking you the last time, brown ass, who the fuck are those two?
EXT. HARDEE'S BACK ALLEY - DAY
The upside-down face of Samir hangs before the white SUV, Beanie holding him up by the ankles.
SAMIR: It was their first day, I swear, I never saw them before!
PIPE: C'mon, curry boy, rack your brains! You don't wanna be hung up all day now, do you?
BEANIE: The fuck, this motherfucker weighs!
PIPE: (pops out a knife) Okay then, let's see what I can cut to make him lighter...
BEANIE: Hurry the fuck up, I'm having cramps!
PIPE: Fuck it, man, you're making it a farce! You get me angry and it ends up I shoot the fucker!
SAMIR: No, please!! I'd like to help you but they already took their papers!
PIPE: They?
SAMIR: White guys, maybe Italian.
PIPE: Them motherfuckin' bastards!
Beanie drops Samir to the ground, finally catches his breath.
BEANIE: What the fuck does that mean?
PIPE: It means those wops did fuck us up!
He puts away the knife, then ponders that for a beat.
PIPE: ...or maybe they've been fucked up themselves.
BEANIE: (ever more confused) So who the fuck has got our shit?
PIPE: I don't fuckin' know, man. I just fear those two moppers aren't the pricks they'd want us to think.
INT. VIRGIL'S SMOKE SHOP - DAY
OLD VIRGIL naps on a chair, undisturbed by an intermittent buzz as EDNA, 80s, feeds the lotto machine with a tall pile of slips.
TIM stands across the counter, pieces of tissue up his nose.
TIM: Explain that again, I still hope I got it wrong.
Tod stands beside him, scraping scratchies on the counter.
TOD: Hey, what did you want me to do? Tell them my father's been fired? That he lost his last paycheck on poker and he went camping with his AA group? The only thing he's got left is the bank's car, and two weeks to give it back.
Tim stares at him in disbelief.
TIM: So you're saying a gang of criminals kidnapped my grandma, we got one day to find 80 thousand dollars and the big plan is to hope in a stroke of luck?!
TOD: It's better than nothing, isn't it?
TIM: No it's not!!
Virgil jumps on his seat as Tim pulls Tod in a corner.
TIM: My grandma's been buying scratchies since I was 3, and she never won a dime! Had she put aside the money I'd live in a penthouse by now!
TOD: You've got to calm down, okay? You're taking these guys too seriously! You think this is the first time they point a gun at me? Ever hit a gay bar on Halloween?
Tim just looks at him.
TOD: And anyway, we wouldn't be here if you didn't lose the money!
TIM: Maybe my grandma dumped it thinking it was burgers, no sense in arguing now!
TOD: Okay, you're right. Why don't we just go to the police?
TIM: Because they would kill her!
TOD: Yeah, and us too. But that won't be a problem, I bet your grandma's full of money, right?
He grins at Tim's silence.
TOD: I'm broke and we're both jobless, so this is better than nothing!
EDNA (O.S.): 326 dollars and 50 cents.
Tim shoots Tod a look as the background buzz stops at last.
TIM: I'm serious, I think we should handle this more rationally.
TOD: We got one day to find 80 grand and pay a ransom for your grandma, what the hell you find so rational about it?!
Tim keeps silent again.
TOD: Exactly, so you better stop whining and get moving! Now you don't like lotto? Well, you're lucky, 'cause I got a few more aces up my sleeve.
Funky music kicks in as we CUT TO:
A CROWD OF TENSE FACES, eyes still, no breathing...
INT. BETTING SHOP - DAY
...suddenly EXPLODING in laughter and cursing at the final sprint of a horses run.
Moving past a line of screens, Tim follows Tod amid the fuss.
TIM: Don't know what's wrong with your sleeves, man, but I don't think we're making progress.
TOD: That's because you're not an expert. This is not about luck, you know, it's a matter of skill in here.
TIM: And tell me, did you ever win something in here?
Tod sits at a table, picks up a running program.
TOD: That's right, man, just skill and intuition.
TIM: Listen, you've got to stop futzing! We're in the shit, big time, and horses won't get us out of it!
TOD: You listen! It's not my fault if we can't call the cops and you got nobody to lend that 80 grand! Nor if you want to ignore that people cash in on horses everyday!
TIM: Yeah, too bad I got 8 dollars left and you got yesterday's date on that program!
Tod looks at it: touché.
TOD: Well, I still got some money. And lucky for your grandma I don't need no program to make the most of it!
MALE VOICE (O.S.): Amen to that, my friend!
They turn to an OLD SUIT blowing smoke from a cheap cigar.
OLD SUIT: What you do need is some good tips from an expert... (a long, deep drag) and to get ready for paradise for a me
re 10 percent of your winnings!
INT. GARRONE'S HIDEOUT - DAY
Dark and dingy. Crumpled beer cans over the floor, a fan creaking on the ceiling.
EILEEN sits by a TV, glancing sulky at her watch as the bells of a church ring out through the shutters. She stands up.
EILEEN: Alright now, whatever the issue with my phone line I've been waiting far too long.
Sal and Joey keep playing cards on a plank.
SAL: Why don't you just sit down and keep waiting?
EILEEN: Because I already watched two hours of Cake Boss and I'm about to get diabetes! What game are you playing?
SAL: In your place I wouldn't think about cards, you know? Maybe you still don't get the situation.
EILEEN: Well, I get you're not from the phone company, are you?
JOEY: Wow, bags of cash apart you don't really miss a thing!
EILEEN: Bags of cash in my house, what a folly!
The mugs keep snickering as she sits down with them.
EILEEN: And anyway, that could only mean trouble, had I really found one I would have thrown it away!
SAL: Oh, now that would be smart...
EILEEN: Well, you're not that smart, too, you know? You drove for an hour and I just heard the bells of my church.
Sal and Joey drop their smile as she takes the cards and starts shuffling.
JOEY: That don't mean nothing, every church has its bells.
EILEEN: Ringing a quarter hour late?
INT. GOOD SHEPHERD CHAPEL - DAY
A big plastic crucifix hangs over a fake marble altar and two rows of desert benches. A whisper resonates in the distance:
CHURCHGOER (O.S.): ...sure it's not my business, and I know ratting is a sin...
INSIDE THE CONFESSIONAL
Lulled by the voice behind the grid, an unkempt FATHER GREGOR is about to fall asleep.
CHURCHGOER (O.S.): ...but there's a reason if men and women got separate restrooms!
GREGOR: (yawns) Well, it's a new millennium, son.
CHURCHGOER (O.S.): But Father, that woman must have been 90!
This seems to wake the Father up. As does the SHOPPING TROLLEY near the offering box.
GREGOR: Go in peace now, God's mercy is everlasting.
CHURCHGOER (O.S.): Well, I'm not done yet...
Gregor's already OUTSIDE, almost running to the trolley.
GREGOR: Holy Lord, let it be an iPad!
His enthusiasm dies as he pulls a HARDEE'S BAG out of it.
EXT. CHAPEL BACK ALLEY - DAY
Gregor bursts out the backdoor, fuming like a barbecue.
GREGOR: I already told you and I won't tell you again: drop those sermons on starvation!
He slams the bag into the dumpster as a visibly drunk FATHER BORIS stands up from the curb.
BORIS: You can't throw away food, it's a... it's a sin against the law!
GREGOR: And come give me a hand, I need to get some sleep!
He walks back in as Boris pulls the bag out of the dumpster.
BORIS: Well, I'll have breakfast first.
INT. BETTING SHOP - DAY
Another race ends, another set of frozen faces exploding. Untouched by the frenzy TIM AND TOD stand at the cash desk.
TOD: Grey suit, green tie with ketchup stains, you can't have missed him!
The cashier keeps picking his nose behind a newspaper.
CASHIER: I told you, I didn't see anybody.
TIM: Sure you didn't, you were too busy drilling your nose!
CASHIER: Exactly! Now get the hell out of here or I'm calling security!
TOD: Well, maybe they could lend a hand, why don't you just call them?
TIM: To tell them what, that you gave your money to a perfect stranger?
TOD: You gave him your 8 bucks, too, didn't you?
TIM: Well, he said he was a lawyer...
TOD: With ketchup stains on his tie?
TIM: Damn it, we shouldn't even be here!
TOD: Hey, I would have insisted with lotto if you didn't start whining!
Tim is on the verge of a breakdown when the cashier knocks on the glass, nods the guys to step close.
CASHIER: You look like good guys, and as I get it you're in need of some money, am I right?
TOD: Wow, and I almost took you for an idiot!
CASHIER: Well, maybe I know someone who could lend a hand.
He nods to an OVERTANNED, SLEAZY FAT MAN devouring a lobster across the hall, flaunting golden rings the size of a tennis ball and a huge goon behind his back.
CASHIER: He's the Pope, you can tell him I sent you.
TOD: What's that, he loans money?
CASHIER: No, genius, he sells carpets.
TIM: The Pope? I don't know, seems a little shady to me.
CASHIER: Well, do as you like, I'm sure you won't have problems getting a loan from a bank.
A flash of realization sparks over Tod's face.
TOD: A bank! How the hell could we miss that?
CASHIER: Yeah, I bet you got loads of guarantees, don't you?
Tod's excitement collapses, just as Tim's face suddenly lights up.
TIM: You know what, maybe we got something after all...
CUT TO:
An undecipherable puzzle of shapes and colors, slowly shaping into a sheet of paper and a pair of DRAWN BOOBS.
MALE VOICE (O.S.): Excellent quality...
INT. BRETT'S COMIC SHOP - DAY
Sitting behind a tall stack of comics in a Green Lantern tee, BRETT moves a lens over a mint copy of Space Amazons 69.
BRETT: ...remarkable collection, Tim, my congratulations!
TOD: Yeah, Tim, way to go! (Pulls him aside) I already knew you're a maniac, seems like you're also demented! How the hell could you think we'd get 80 grand for your pornos?
TIM: They're not pornos, and I'm not that stupid! That mobster needs money, we wouldn't be alive if he didn't. Maybe if he had an advance we could come to terms with him.
TOD: You want to use your pornos as an advance?
TIM: No, Tod, I won't use my erotic comics, I'll use whatever money I'll get out of them.
BRETT (O.S.): 800 dollars, that's it!
TIM: What?!
BRETT: That's right! And I'll pretend I didn't see those sticky pages...
TIM: It's a misery, we don't go anywhere with that!
BRETT: Well, don't tell me, I thought I'd get a yacht and after 11 years in here I'm still camping! Paper's dead, guys, the big money's on the net right now... hornypeephole.com, ever heard of that?
TIM: You put up a porn site?
BRETT: Kind of. At the moment I'm rigging up with pics of my sister.
TIM: Vicky?!
He turns in shock to a pimply, hunched BEANPOLE OF A GIRL.
TIM: We were in high school together, I didn't think she was that kind!
BRETT: She's not, I snap on the sly! (Winks at Tim) And don't worry, she's still got a crush on you!
Tim shivers as Vicky smiles at him through her braces.
TOD: Okay, good luck for your maniacs' hangout, what about the comics?
BRETT: You heard the offer. You want more, we put them in the window. With a bit of luck and a couple of months we could even get to 900.
EXT. SIDEWALK - EVENING
The air is cold, few people around as dusk falls. Tod lays a beer and a Mello Yello on the curb, where Tim sits staring blankly at nothing.
TIM: It's all useless, we just can't make it.
TOD: Come on, don't be a pessimist now.
TIM: Yeah, why should I? I bet you'd be too if it was your grandma!
TOD: My grandma's dead, okay?
TIM: I'm sorry, I --
TOD: I wish it was my grandma!
TIM: 'Scuse me , I couldn't know, I... shit! I can do nothing but messes! I can't find a job, can't get a life, and for some damn reason whatever I do turns into a disaster! Kids want to kill me, dogs want to rape me, and last week I almost burned down a barber shop!
Tod sips
his beer, quite unsurprised.
TIM: There's a single person in the world who cares about me, and look at what I put her into! Man, I must be the greatest idiot in the world!
He shakes his head in despair when a grimy slipper lands right on his nape. A PAIR OF KIDS laugh away on their bikes.
KID ON BIKE: And don't come around here no more!
Tim kicks away the slipper, just the cherry on his cake.
TOD: Don't know if you're an idiot, man, but you shouldn't let them treat you like that.
TIM: Well, I'd give them a lesson if only I didn't have more serious stuff to think about.
TOD: Yeah, and I bet that's also why with an accounting degree you're auditioning for school bus jobs.
TIM: The school was looking for an accountant, too, I just didn't want to rush things up. You know the tale of the hasty cat?
TOD: I'm just saying you should take things less passively. Me too, I'm not perfect: I'm broke, and maybe I can't prepare the best mojito in the world. And yes, when I was a kid I feared somebody would jump out of the dark and eat my feet, but hey, that doesn't mean everybody can treat me like shit!
TIM: In case you didn't notice, right now my everybody includes a gang of criminals.
TOD: Well, I'll give you that... (throws down his beer) but we still got a lotto draw on our side, and a night to sleep it over and come up with something.
Tim heaves a somber sigh, gets back to void staring.
TIM: I don't think I'll sleep at all. Guess I'll just be thinking of what my grandma's going through because of me...
INT. GARRONE'S HIDEOUT - NIGHT
Eileen sits still before the gang. Tension can be cut with a knife as one by one they stare daggers at her.
SAL: Come on now, we've waited long enough, let's get this over with.
She looks at them, breaths deep... then drops down her cards.
JOEY: Impossible, ninth win in a row!
Eileen cracks in laughter as everybody grumbles.
VITO: I know there's a trick, I just need time to figure it out.
EILEEN: Oh my, you don't think I'm cheating, do you? And anyway, you'll have to wait until the next time, it's late and I really should go now.
The guys glance at each other, nobody knows what to say.
EILEEN: I'd like to stay, but my nephew will be wondering where I am. And then I've got my medicines to take.
VITO: Medicines for what?
EILEEN: Well, there's one for low pressure, one for arthritis, glaucoma, anemia... and some others I don't know what they're for!
SAL: Hey, that's quite some aches you got! I know a medicine that would just do for you...
JOEY: Yeah, maybe she could use some powdered milk!
Eileen is puzzled as the guys burst in laughter.
GARRONE (O.S.): I'm happy you're having fun...
Silence breaks out as Garrone walks up to the table.
GARRONE: ...and I see you like rummy.
He sits down. A nod at his guys and everybody's out.
GARRONE: Do you like betting, too?
EILEEN: Well, it depends on what.
GARRONE: You and me, one on one. And if I win we'll talk about my money.
EILEEN: Again?
GARRONE: I mean a serious talk.
EILEEN: What if you lose?
Garrone grins, starts shuffling.
GARRONE: Then I'll see what I can do about your medicines.
INT. HARKINS' OFFICE - THE NEXT MORNING
The sun shines outside the window, usual overactivity resonating from the hallway as Wolak sits next to JAY-D, a cuffed, dumb looking Eminem wannabe. They both look across the desk, where Harkins is carefully tasting a glass of milk.
HARKINS: Well, can't see nothing wrong with it. Tastes good, too.
JAY-D: I told you I was clean, bro!
WOLAK: (frowns, puzzled) I don't know, I was told milk is drug dealer slang for coke.
JAY-D: Yeah, especially if you bust one in front of a dairy!
Harkins shoots Wolak a look, puts the milk into a minifridge as Lewis rushes in.
LEWIS: Good news, Cap, we got three hospitalized addicts cursing over their missing pushers.
HARKINS: You talked to them?
LEWIS: We already got a sketch.
EXT. HARDEE'S - DAY
A FLYER GIRL walks down the sidewalk placing leaflets on parked cars. She turns the corner, avoids a carpet of empty cups as she moves past the WHITE SUV.
INT. WHITE SUV - CONTINUOUS
Pipe and Beanie keep their eyes on Hardee's entrance as they swallow the umpteenth ice cream.
BEANIE: Fuck it, I'm getting hemorrhoids! Why can't we just get those wops if we're sure it's been them?
PIPE: 'Cause we're not sure, Beanie. If they set this up why did they come back for those pricks?
Beanie thinks it up for a beat.
BEANIE: Why the fuck should the pricks come back here anyway?
PIPE: I bet you wouldn't, would you? And that's how they'd get you, drawing attention disappearing like that!
He throws his cup out of the window, pulls a flyer from underneath the wiper and cleans his mouth with it.
BEANIE: (keeps frothing) I'm freakin' out, man, I wanna kill some-motherfuckin-body!
PIPE: You son of a bitch!
BEANIE: Yeah, man, I mean it!
PIPE: I know you do, and maybe you won't have to wait much.
He hands him the FLYER, where a capital WATCH OUT KIDS stands over TIM'S SMILING FACE.
INT. EILEEN'S KITCHEN - DAY
Tim staggers in, tangled hair and eye bags the size of a lemon. He hasn't slept a minute and it shows.
TIM: Alright, enough with the bullshit.
He wipes off the mountain of balled-up lotto tickets on the table, lays down the phone and a 911 reading post-it. As he reaches for a rusk he spots a FRAMED PICTURE of his grandma: twenty years younger, a happy brat in her arms.
TIM: Poor grandma, I wish I wasn't such a failure...
He puts the photo back in place, right next to one of Eileen's scratchies.
TIM: ...and that we had some more luck in our life.
EXT. OLD A