JACK
Yeah, well our deal is you are
not
getting to her. I'm ready to offer a temporary truce, Mr. Chavez, while we conclude our business deal.
RICKY
Now?
JACK
What's wrong with now?
Ricky looks over his shoulder.
RICKY
I am not dressed for the conducting of business, Jack. And there is the matter of criminal elements nearby.
JACK
I'm guessing they're pretty busy.
They won't be bothering us now.
RICKY
That is not entirely true...
JACK
What isn't?
Ricky steps aside.
ON GRAPE
Grape is sprawled on the ground, eyes rolled up, an enormous bump on his forehead.
BACK TO SCENE
JACK
Damn
...
RICKY
He came upon me. You had stolen my weapon, I had to find means to defend myself.
JACK
You hit him with that?
RICKY
He--made rude remarks.
He said he had never seen a---person of my racial persuasion in his shorts.
JACK
Don't imagine he had.
RICKY
I reacted quite strongly. This has been a difficult day.
Jack bends down to look at Grape.
JACK
I feel partly responsible for that.
RICKY
I am pleased that you do.
You have the box. You have the illegal monies there?
JACK
I figured you'd notice.
RICKY
And how much is inside?
JACK
I don't know. We got to get a rock or something to bust the lock.
RICKY
(amused)
No-no-no.
Ricky takes the box, puts it on the ground.
JACK
Hey!
ANOTHER ANGLE
Ricky squats down, strikes the top once with his fist, taps it once on the side.
The lid flies open.
JACK
How'd you do that?
RICKY
I am a banker, Jack.
Jack grabs up a handful of bills.
JACK
Jesus, Must be a couple hundred grand in here!
Ricky takes the money, quickly fans the stack.
RICKY
Three hundred twenty-two dollar.
JACK
What?
Jack pokes under the stack.
JACK
What is this shit?
Ricky takes a stack of baseball cards from the box, reaches in and gets another.
CLOSE ON CARDS
Ricky shuffles through them. He's got fifty, sixty cards.
RICKY/JACK
RICKY
Cards of the baseball game. Jackie the Robinson, l949...Roberto Clemente...Lou Gehrig, 1934. Joe Dimag-- They appear to be autographed as well. You like the baseball, Jack?
JACK
No. That's it?
Cecil is into fucking baseball? Got any boxers in there? Got Sugar Ray?
RICKY
No, only the baseball. I have a nephew, he likes the baseball. You don't want these...I would give them to him.
JACK
Uh-huh.
FAVOR RICKY
RICKY
They are your cards, however. I would give you---two hundred dollar, the whole bunch. You keep the cash, of course.
JACK
Fuck you will.
RICKY
I know you are greatly disappointed in this enterprise. Three hundred, I could do that.
JACK
Five.
RICKY
Four.
JACK
Cash.
No checks. Then we go to your bank.
Jack pockets the $322.
Ricky closes the box. They stand.
RICKY
Of course.
First I find some clothes.
JACK
You thought I didn't know that, didn't you?
RICKY
Know what?
JACK
That people save those cards. That the old ones is worth big bucks.
RICKY
You are a hard man to deal with, Jack.
JACK
Look out for Number One, no one else is going to.
RICKY
Si.
This is very, very true...
DISSOLVE TO:
PIGGS PARKING LOT - MORNING
Ortega pulls his old car into the parking lot. Ortega is tired, and he rear-ends Cecil's Caddie. He gets out of the car and spots a couple of dozen bullet holes.
ORTEGA
Ay, gringos again...
Ortega walks carefully around the car. Looks in the back seat.
POV ORTEGA
Cat sits inside, looking straight ahead.
His face is pale, and there's a hole in his head.
CAT
Hi, Ortega.
It's me...
ORTEGA
I see it is you. You don't look too good, hombre.
CAT
Don't feel good...
Ortega leans in for a closer look. Lodged in the center of a crusty hole is the rear half of a bullet.
ORTEGA
Okay.
This is the problem right here. You know, it is a surprise to me you are not totally dead.
Ortega shakes his head.
ORTEGA (CONT'D)
What is happening, Cat?
What is going on here?
CAT
Hosa...hosa-piddle.
ORTEGA
What? Ah-- Hos-pit-al. Well, you are an asshole, Cat, but you are a human person like myself. We have this thing in common.
EXT/INT CADDIE
Ortega opens the front door, gets in the driver's seat. Looks at the dash. Turns back to Cat.
ORTEGA
I hate to ask, but we are nearly on empty. I do not believe I can move you to my car. You have any money, Cat?
CAT
Muuu--nee.
ORTEGA
This is what I am saying.
CAT
Muu-nee.
Hosa-piddle.
ON CAT
Cat's face is filled with agony. He lifts a great paw, reaches up and digs enormous fingers into the siding of the door. Plastic rips, the door handle snaps, the panel bursts free.
Money pours all over Cat's lap, spills in a green avalanche onto the floor, out the door.
CAT
Hosa-piddle...muneee.
ORTEGA
Madre!
CAT
Hosa-piddle...
Ortega grins.
ORTEGA
Focking right. Hosa-pital it is.
Ortega quickly gets in the driver's seat. The car roars into action.
EXT. CAR
Cecil's Caddie takes off, burning rubber, throwing up dust---and money, money flying like leaves.
ORTEGA (O.S.)
Hang on back there, amigo!
LONG DISSOLVE: PASSAGE OF TIME
INT. PIGGS -NIGHT
ESTABLISHING SHOTS
The place is swinging, but Piggs has changed. The motif is now Cajun. Fake Spanish moss. Baby gators have replaced the piglets in the aquarium walls.
MOVING SHOT
CAMERA PULLS BACK as Jack comes at us through the crowd. He's still Jack, but he's a changed man---stylish hair, shiny, out-of-fashion tux and tie.
People greet him. Guys are signing baby gators. Maggie Thatch and Minnie Mouth FOLLOW him toward the front of the door. They are dressed in tacky, revealing "Southern Style" hostess outfits.
JACK
Billy, how are ya?
Sluggo, where you been, man? Maggie, the beer guy, Mick, Slick--
(Jack snaps his fingers)
MAGGIE
Freddie...
JACK
Whatever.
He don't want to deliver on time, get me somebody can. How hard is it, bring a load of beer.
MAGGIE
Got you, Jack.
JACK
Jesus, Minnie, the babe with no---
MINNIE
Boobs.
JACK
That's what they are. Coulda fooled me.
MINNIE