JACK
Shut the fuck up.
ORTEGA
I am taking the chances, dancing in the--
Jack loses it, lunges at Ortega
Rhino holds him off.
RHINO
Hey--hey--hey!
JACK
Watch your mouth. Close it, I'll close it for you.
Rhino glares at Ortega.
RHINO
You got something to do?
Ortega doesn't answer.
RHINO
Jesus...
Rhino stalks off through the door to the dining area. Dead silence in the kitchen.
ORTEGA
I am only the kidding and joking about, Jack. One must not take affront when the humorous patter is coming from a friend.
JACK
Yeah, well we're
not,
so keep the humor to yourself.
Rhino comes back in,
RHINO
(to ortega)
Got orders. Get out there.
Ortega makes a face, as Rhino takes over the cooking. Ortega leaves quickly through the door to the dining area.
WAN'S DINING AREA
Ortega waits on a COUPLE. They are bewildered by his Zapata outfit.
MALE DINER glances at the menu again.
MALE DINER
Is this a ory-intal place or what?
ORTEGA
Si, it is indeed.
MALE DINER
Doesn't look like any I ever been to.
ORTEGA
You are familiar with the customs of the Chinese peoples?
MALE DINER
No, I'm not.
ORTEGA
I did not think so...
KITCHEN
Ortega re-enters.
RHINO
What?
ORTEGA
He wants to give the menu further consideration.
RHINO
Shit...
(beat)
Rhino stacks plates on Jack's tray.
RHINO
Garlic shrimp, lemon chicken, hot and sour. Don't goof around. Cecil don't like it cold.
Jack looks pained.
JACK
Aw, let Ortega do it. Cecil don't like me, you know that.
RHINO
I don't like you either. Get the fuck out of here.
Jack starts off with the tray, looks pained.
PIGGS: CECIL'S TABLE
(It's as if Cecil has never stopped orating)
CECIL
..A man wearing a shirt one color, the collar's different from the rest?
What you are seeing is a person of the New York persuasion. This is how you tell.
Cecil looks up at Cat.
WIDEN SHOT
Cat nods. Grape and Hutt return. Cecil frowns. He smells trouble.
CECIL
What?
HUTT
Nothing, no big deal.
GRAPE
Ol' boy called him a fag.
Said he was wearing funny shoes.
CECIL
Who was that? You know who it was?
GRAPE
Skinny guy.
Short hair, leather jacket.
CECIL
Like an aviator jacket.
GRAPE
Like that.
A topless waitress stops by with drinks.
HUTT
There's no problem, Mr. Dupree. What the guy said, doesn't mean a thing to me.
Cecil looks overly grave, deeply concerned.
CECIL
It means something to me, Mr. Hutt.
You are a guest of mine here.
That boy showed no respect to you.
Same as you're showing no respect to me.
HUTT
Hey, come on...
CECIL
My guess is, you being an asshole, this is a social dis-order, this is a personal failing in yourself, and has nothing to do with Mr. Ambrose Junior and me...
Hutt tries to speak.
Cheers from the crowd drown him out.
CECIL (cont'd)
(leans forward)
What do you think, Mr. Hutt Kenny, would I be correct in saying that?
HUTT
Now that isn't right, Mr. Dupree.
CECIL
Get me a Coors, Cat. Get our guest another drink.
HUTT
Nothing for me.
No one pays any attention to him. Cat leaves.
ANOTHER ANGLE
Jack enters the frame. He sets down his tray on another table, gathers up bottles, etc. Starts passing out dishes to Hutt and Cecil.
AROUND THE TABLE
Cecil, easy going. Doing a reasonable LBJ act for Hutt, while he scribbles on a piece of paper.
CECIL
This is a simple operation, Mr. Hutt. You folks are selling, I'm buying. What's so hard about that? And as
I
will be handing
you
a great deal of money...
CUT TO JACK:
His blank "waiter" expression changes on the word MONEY.
OVER THE SHOULDER
POV JACK.
Cecil's hand, making notes: Scribbles, doodles, but the numbers $75,000 are scratched out, and $100,000? is underlined, with a question mark.
ON HUTT
HUTT
(to Grape)
Nothing for you?
GRAPE
In here?
Cecil is pissed at being interrupted.
CECIL
...as
such
,I feel I am entitled to some assurance you people will carry off this delivery in a smooth, efficient manner. That you will manage not to fuck up the works.
FAVOR HUTT
Alabama Straight plops down in Hutt's lap. He grins at that.
HUTT
Don't have to worry about a thing. Be hunky-dorry, Mr. Dupree.
CECIL
Be what?
GRAPE
He says it'll be okay.
CECIL
Then why don't he just say it?
Cecil looks up quickly, stabs Jack with his eyes, catches him looking at the scribbling. That CHILLING friendly smile again.
CECIL (cont'd)
Well, my heavens, Jack, what do you think you're doing?
JACK
Uh...suh-serving your dinner, Mr. Dupree.
CECIL
Well suh-serve it, then.
Laughter
Cecil looks at his plate; a slight smile crosses his features.
CECIL
What exactly was it you went up for, Jack? Mo-lesting sheep or what?
More laughter. Jack sweats.
CECIL (cont'd)
You eat a lot of Chink food down at Huntsville, Jack? They serve a lot of who-nan, sheky-wan?
JACK
No sir, they don't do that.
CECIL
(Cecil points to his plate)
Then I don' guess you know what this is.
JACK
It's, uh--
CECIL
Get it out of here. Take it back.
JACK
Sir?
GRAPE
You hear him? He says take it back.
JACK
Yes, sir. I'll just---
Cecil glances up, a look that strikes Jack dumb, as his Lone Ranger birthmark turns almost black. He SLAMS his fist down on the table so hard it rattles plates, knocks a glass to the floor.
CECIL
Then DO IT!
Jack fumbles around, stumbles, tries to get stuff up as fast as he can.
ON TABLE
Everyone enjoys this.
CECIL
Son of a bitch is going to give me a stroke, I swear...
At that moment, he looks out over the crowd, seems to see something of interest.
CECIL
You all will excuse me a moment?
He gets up, leaves.
MOVING SHOT
People speak to Cecil as he passes, walking toward the front door. One of the TOPLESS WAITRESSES is holding a pink piglet
while a COUPLE OF GUYS tp sign it.
ON CAT
He is bringing drinks back, but spots Cecil, sets drinks on a table and follows Cecil out.
He passes a PRETTY GIRL.
PRETTY GIRL
(to cat)
Hi, big fella.
Cat doesn't notice her. She shrugs as he passes her by.
CUT TO:
SMALL JANITOR'S CLOSET
Jack is sweating, throwing up. Splashes water on his face, looks at himself in the mirror. Feels it all coming up again.