Run Rabbit Run - Act 1

Two three Chilly Run Run, Yeah, Yes.
Right, Run Rabbit Run, written by Jesse Carter and Thomas
Beaudoin Black. We hear water running in a baptob and
the faucet shuts off. Someone's bathing super Rely on the
rabbit's foot if you must, but remember it didn't work
for the rabbit. Interior Cherry's House, Bathroom, afternoon, nineteen sixty nine.
A hazy scene of vapor clouds the beautiful bathroom of
a mid century home. Fiona Cherry, thirty, mother, natural, beauty, conflicted,
washes herself in a trance like state, sliding the sponge
in long strokes along her arms. After a moment of zen,
the door opens and in comes Killian Cherry, six years old, innocent,
shy boy. He goes to the sink and stands on
his toes to.
Wash his hands.
Killian, would you come over here please?
Killian turns and sees his mother. He walks over to
the bathtub. Fiona takes his hand and kisses it.
My sweet boy, you know how much I love you,
don't you?
Killian Nods more.
Than anything in the whole world? Can you keep a secret?
Killian Nods again?
I love you most of all.
He smiles softly. Tears run down her cheek.
Where are you crying?
Those are good tears. Honey, is your father and brother home.
Killian shakes his head.
Do you have your knife with you?
He pulls his pocket knife out of a small sleeve
secured to his belt and hands it to her.
Thank you, my love.
Not thinking too much of it, Killian turns to leave,
but she holds onto his hand.
I want you to stay with me.
Killian turns back. Fiona squeezes his hand and stares into
his eyes.
Don't be scared.
She proceeds to cut her wrists. Killian watches confused as
the blood flows on her arm. She squeezes his hand tighter,
not allowing his release.
Look at me, Killian. It's okay. Everything is going to
be fine from now on, I promise.
They stare at one another as she slowly fades away.
I love you, I always will.
Killian stands in silence, holding his unconscious mother's hand. We
hear the chime of a toy jack in the box
cranking louder from outside the bathroom. Killian's twin brother, Jamison,
six spirited outgoing, emerges in the doorway and sees the horror.
He drops the jack in the box and the metal
toy clangs hard on the floor. Killian's nose starts to bleed.
His blood drips into the bath water, mixing with his
mother's blood. Interior Police Station break room, day present. Droplets
of blood red grenadine fall into a glass of seven up.
A hand squeezes the bottle, accidentally popping the cap off,
spilling the red syrup everywhere. Mulray forty to forty five
clumsy detective tries to clean the counter, only making it worse.
God damn, I should just kill myself. He sees his
reflection in the window and deflates, tomorrow, I'll do it tomorrow.
He picks up his Shirley temple and two coffees. We
follow him through several corridors to Interior Police Station. Interrogation
room continuous. Mulray enters the drinks. The drink moans, squirts.
Mulray enters with the drinks. Monty thirty five roguish, nobody's
fool and newman forty five to fifty five female Lead
Detective Headstrong turned to Mulray, who looks as though he
survived a firing squad.
Gosh it wasn't too much trouble.
If Mulray could smack him, he would. Newman flips through
a folder and continues the interrogation.
You're absolutely certain that was the last time you.
Saw absolutely I haven't seen him since I got out.
Mulray removes the cigarette from Monty's mouth and drops it
into Monty's untouched coffee.
Hey, no, that won't lead to a friendship, easy, wildcat.
This ain't a summer camp. We're not here to collect friends.
We're here to bring down dirtbags like yourself.
Monty flips up another cigarette, catching it between his lips
like a smart ass.
You got a little something on your shirt, John Wayne.
Thanks.
Cleanliness is next to godliness, Isn't that what they say?
Our heroes can't be sloppy. You know I'm here to help.
I need your help like I need a kidney step. Well,
I was gonna say Clint Eastwood, but he's not fat
Corn the peace Stream Boys.
It says here that for over ten years you drove
for Roland on occasion.
So what I also gave my grandmother a few rides
to the grocery store.
That doesn't make me here, fucking chauffeur.
I haven't driven anything in eons. I've transferred to a
whole new mode of transportation. It's called walking. You might
want to look into.
It, Mulray fumes. Newman looks to another pile of documents.
Under no circumstances, Roland ever be allowed to operate a
motored vehicle of any kind, or terrible things will happen?
Enlighten me?
What sort of terrible things?
Monty smirks at his own words as he lights his cigarette.
The cracking of the tobacco turns to rumbling of a motorcycle.
Fade two exterior driveway day flashback. Roland sixteen, black, ruggedly
handsome with a scar, magnetic charisma, a mother fucking ease
to him, sits on a motorcycle. Monty sixteen stands next
to him, revving the throt off.
Where's the gas?
Seriously?
Roland smiles at him. Monty points to the throttle with
a discouraging look.
Are you sure you've driven one of these?
Monty gives the helmet to Roland. Roland inspects it.
Relax, if it's got handles, I can handle it.
How many times?
Roland gives the helmet back to Monty All the time
Roland revs the engine. He winks at Monty and speeds off,
riding out of the driveway when wham, he gets hit
by a car, throwing him in the air.
Oh shit.
He lands on his feet with a puzzled look on
his face. Roland shrugs. Monty charges after Roland. A classic
white Cadillact pulls up a flashback interior car day. Roland
sixteen sits at the wheel of the white Cadillac. Nervous,
he inspects all the mirrors, watches for any unforeseen disaster.
He notices a gorgeous woman in the car next to him.
He smiles and winks at her. When bam, a hot
air balloon on fire crashes down on his car. The pilot,
engulfed in flames, climbs out of the basket and runs
around in a panic. Roland gets out of the car
and shock the smoke builds.
Back to the.
Interior police station interrogation room, Monty blows a cloud of
smoke with a smirk on his face.
I guess you'll just have to use your imagination. Start
with terrible things.
Human slides photos of evidence across the table that links
roll into the current investigation.
I have to admit. These guys are clever, like leafcutter ants.
They never strip the tree bear. They harvest a little,
just enough to leave them standing, allowing the wealth to
grow back water down heroes. But the only pockets they've
been lining.
Of their own, they're all photos of small white rabbit
figurines with an R printed on its belly.
Tell me how many more of these does he have
left to hand out? He's already attached over a dozen
robberies in California alone, nearly sixty seven hits worldwide, not
counting the five jewelry stores in Manhattan just in two
thousand and eight.
Moulerace smirks and holds up a picture of what resembles
Monty in the driver's seat of a car in front
of a jewelry store.
And it appears, according to rumor, that if he so
much as sits behind the wheel of anything, all hell
breaks loose. You're a third generation race car driver. Monty
and his lifelong friend. That's pretty convenient for a man
who's kryptonite is driving.
Photo montage Monty nine driving a go cart Manty sixteen
on a dirt bike with a trophy in his arms.
Monty sixteen, drifting in a normal car with Roland taking
a polaroid in the passenger seat, smiling with cop cars
behind them.
What's your point? Why did you quit racing? I don't
need to talk about it.
Did it have anything to do with your father's death?
Monty gazes at Molray, and if you could kill him,
he would?
Is that why I'm here to talk about my father?
Molray doesn't answer.
You shouldn't believe everything you read, whereas in the paper
will never amount to the whole truth. Roland and I
no longer speak, haven't for quite some time. I don't
know what else to tell you.
Was he always this lucky?
I'll put it this way, if a cat has nine lives.
Roland borrowed the other.
Eight flashback interior elementary school classroom day. It's Valentine's Day.
Roland nine, same scar is at his school desk, smiling
ear to ear while classmates place lavish cards and candy
in front of him. It starts to pile up.
Roland grabbed Lady Luck by the tits and never let go.
She took to him immediately. She rubbed her sweet paws
all over.
Roland stares longingly at Amelia nine, strong willed Cindy Crawford's mole.
Sitting at her desk, one of the girls kisses Roland
on the cheek. Unfazed, he continues to gaze in Amelia's direction.
Monty nine watches it all unfold from his desk beside Roland.
That's what we love and hate about him all.
At the same time, Amelia catches Roland's stare and offers
him the subtlest smile. A large bully adjustively jumps up
from his chair, charging Roland, and just before he can
reach our hero, a fist punches the bully across the face,
sending a tooth flying flashback exterior elementary school entrance continuous. Roland,
holding hands with Amelia, and Monty burst out the front doors,
followed by the enraged, toothless bully and his gang. Monty
shakes the pain from his hand freeze. Roland and Amelia
have a big grin. Monty is annoyed.
He's always had this wonderful aura he just can't shake off,
and everyone else gets to.
Basket back to Interior Police Station interrogation room.
Day luck is about all he has left.
Monty puts out his cigarette in his coffee before standing out.
This has been illuminating, but I have a life. I'd
like to continue.
He heads for the door.
We may have further questions as this progresses.
As what progresses, you guys.
Are about to get your fingers clipped dipping in the
wrong cookie jar money. It's only a matter of time
before someone applies pressure on a lid roll in his slick.
But he's hardly special, just lucky, that's all.
I can't think of anything i'd rather be.
He opens the door. Monty Monty stops in his tracks.
I'd hate to see you measure new drapes for another
six by nine. If you catch a rabbit once, you
can catch him again.
He closes the door behind him. Cut to Black Super Run,
Rabbit Run, Interior Police Station lobby. Moments later, Monty exits
the men's room, adjusting his belt. He passes by Amelia
twenty seven cunning eyes Cindy Crawford Mole at the reception desk.
He stops and looks back, wondering why she looks so familiar. Suddenly,
two women charge through the front doors, disguised with ultra
realistic Hillary Clinton and Jackie O masks, both wearing dresses,
both are armed with guns, holding dirty bums as hostage.
The police officers draw their pistols.
Easy, easy, easy, now where the bump paints the floor.
No one wants a mess, especially that guy.
Hillary Clinton points her gun at the janitor, who looks
nervous gripping his mom.
See, so let's.
Keep a clean boys, guns on the floor. Now, don't
test my patience. I lost the presidency twice, and you
know we can't do that technically.
I'm not a bum.
I shut up.
The police officers hold their ring. Hillary Clinton points her
gun at Monty.
You get over here me, Hey, do you like having kneecaps?
Monty instantly walks over. Jackie O releases her bomb and
grabs Monty, pressing the gun against his cheek.
Anyone follows us, We're gonna blow up the school bus
around the corner, well till bombs.
Hillary Clinton gives a scolding look at Jackie O. The
two of them make their way out, holding their hostages.
Exterior police station alleyway continuous. Hillary Clinton places a large
board securing the doors from the outside, and then shoves Jackie.
O both of them. What the fuck I said?
THEE which implies singular only one not two.
That's dark.
Yeah, my bad.
It was in the moment and the nerves. I thought
it would be more impactful.
I just I went for it. Oh, she went for it.
Keep moving.
Hillary Clinton hands a twenty dollars bill to the bum full.
Shit.
I didn't take time out of my schedule for twenty bucks.
Schedule you said fifty. I'm a Democrat. I'll mail the rest. Yeah, sure,
just send it to my house in Dahoe.
Fuck you?
Does it look like I have a residence angered?
The bum swings hard and missus falling to the ground.
Hillary Clinton hurries away with Jackie O and.
Goes around, comes around. Motherfucker. Hell's hot and there's always Through.
Interior police station Video room day, a small group of
cops sit in front of a TV monitor. They watch
closely a surveillance video where a man gets hit by
a convertible camaro oooh. Newman enters with mulray behind, sandwich
in hand.
Where did you get this?
It was broad in a few minutes ago.
Newman watches the video again. She sees a shiny object
slide across the.
Ground, rewind that a rookie cop of bass pause it
right there, zoom in.
Newman points at the object on the screen. Mulray and
the other cops leaning closer.
What's the fuckers?
Vap? Instantly? Gasser, thirty overweight cop, bursts in. He struggles
to speak, overcome with panic.
Captain two women.
Gasser tries to collect his breath as he plops down
in a chair, removing an inhaler.
Well, go on and spill it, Gaser. Two women?
What?
Gasser holds a finger up and takes a deep pull
from the inhaler. Everyone waits for him.
Two women dressed as Hillary Clinton. Some other lady just
kiddnapped the man. You will question me in the lobby.
Onto the teeth Newman, Mulray and all the other cops
scramble for the door. Gasser notices the sandwich, rolls his
chair to it and takes a bite. He notices the
monitor and moves closer to inspect the image. Confused interior
White Van Alleyway Day sitting at the wheel Francois twenty seven,
Charming Doe Frenchman enjoys the sweet aroma of his coffee
as French music plays on the radio.
This small thinks.
A serene Folger's moment until Jackie oo violently swings the
back door open and pushes Monty inside. Startled, Francois spills
his coffee on his crouch. Fuckte, I'm sorry, I said
Crouch's not as crouch. Startled, Francois spills his coffee on
his crouch.
Fuck my dick, Go go.
Francois hits the gas as the White band peels away
Monty with his hands up.
Ladies, listen, time out, time out.
There's some sort of mistake.
You have the wrong guy. Just let me go.
I haven't seen any of your faces. I couldn't possibly
tell anyone anything. Really, I would rather just be on
my way anywhere as fine.
Hillary Clinton aims her gun at Monty's head.
Wait wait, whoa, whoa.
You don't have to do this for Christ's sake.
Tomorrow is my birthday.
Hillary Clinton peels away her mask with a voice device
stuck in her throat, revealing Roland thirty five.
I thought you were as.
Roland squeezes the trigger and sprays water in Monty's face.
What Monty punches Roland, sending him on his ass.
Oh.
Jackie O struggles to remove her mask, revealing Tyler twenty
nine laid back stoner Tyler kisses his lucky gold ambulus
before pulling Monty off of Roland.
Tyler, really, after everything, what do you promise you this time?
Shit, Manty, you gotta cover my mortgage.
That's a fine way of showing gratitude, Monty, gratitude.
I was free to go, Roland.
If you had just waited thirty seconds, I would have
walked out the fucking door.
Silence.
Shit.
Francois suddenly jerks the wheel and the van rolls black.
An acapella iris lament fades in interior Cherry's barn. Evening,
the same iris lament plays from a record player in
exquisitely detailed wooden coffin carved from a single tree sits
in the center. Jamison Cherry, fifty to sixty, poised, piercing eyes,
lives by a strict code, sweats profusely, whittling the coffin
with a knife, a coffin dedicated to his dying father.
Blood is a bond. Make him understand.
Jamison slips cuts his hand as blood splatters. His black
great Dame looks up with concern. Jamison walks over to
the counter. He grabs a rag and applies pressure as
blood soaks through. He exits, followed by his dog. Interior
Cherry's House Kitchen continuous. Jamison enters with his dog close behind,
passing by wood sculptures decorating the rooms. He goes to
the kitchen to clean his injured hand in the sink.
As he stares at an old picture of his mother, Fiona,
with her arms around him at five years old, a
torn piece of the picture is missing. Jamison sees his
own reflection in the picture and notices a few drops
of blood on his face. He quickly wipes it off
as blood runs into the black void of the drain,
his gaze lost in thought, the doorbell rings. Jamison removes
the torn piece of the picture from behind the frame
and sets it where it once was, revealing his twin brother, Killian,
standing on the other side of Fiona. Interior Cherry's House
entrance continuous. Jamison opens the front door to find his
twin brother, Killian Cherry fifty to sixty vile. His piercing
eyes denote a dangerous instability here.
Late.
Killian looks down at Jamison's injured hand.
You're bleeding.
Jamison tightens the soaked up bandage on his.
Hand, still playing with knives. You should be more careful.
You wouldn't want to trip and fall on one. How
long has it been? I haven't been logging the days
too long? They stare for a moment in silence.
What do you want?
Jamison?
Follow me?
Jamison turns and leaves Killian on the porch with the
door open. Killian removes a pair of very dark sunglasses
and puts them on before stepping inside. He reluctantly looks
down the hall and sees the bathroom where their mother
died all those years ago.
You coming?
This breaks Killian from his trance. Interior Cherry's barn continuous.
Jamison enters, followed by Killian. Killian approaches the coffin and
all as Jamison walks past.
It, it's taking me nearly a year to finish it.
Killian studies all the details and craftsmanship, sliding his hands
slowly along the edges to inspect it closely.
Is this I wasn't sure you'd remember? Of course I do.
He loved that trade.
It's what he would have wanted.
Killian pulls his hand away. The brothers stare at each
other with a casket between them.
That's what he deserves. The doctor's just saying any day now,
I'm thinking hours. He wants to see you, Killian. He
loves you out of pity. Why are you showing me this.
I want you to be by my side when I
put him in the ground together. As he wishes, Killian
goes to exit. We're all he has.
Killian stops.
I suppose that's my fault.
Jamison approaches his brother.
She was sick. She put you in a horrible situation.
You had nothing to do with it.
I had everything to do with it.
Jamison hugs Killian. Killian allows it awkwardly. A tear rolls
down from behind his dark sunglasses.
I killed her.
Interior hospital room. An hour later, an IV drop A
heart monitor beeps. William Cherry ninety crime lord dying, lays
unconscious in bed, eyes closed, reveal of Killian standing by
his father. After a moment, Killian leans down to gently
touch forehead to forehead with his father. Feeling the touch
of his long lost son, William opens his Killian sits
back as they both stare at each other. After a moment,
Killian discreetly pulls the plug to the respiratory machine. William
slowly fades away. The heart monitor flatlines, which fades into
the sound of someone heavily urinating in a toilet. Interior
Victoria's bathroom, Morning super forty eight hours before The First
Wives kidnap Monty from the police station. A beautiful woman
Victoria thirty stunningly beautiful transsexual pastry chef Roland in Monty's
former accomplice, stands brushing her teeth. A distinct buzzer goes off,
Oh yum. She looks down, does a little shake, and
quickly zips up. She spits the toothpaste into the toilet, flushes,
and exits in a hurry. Interior Victoria's house, Continuous. Victoria
makes her way through the house as the buzzer gets
it's louder. She rushes into the kitchen and pulls out
a tray of Snickerdodle cookies out of the oven. She
places the cookies on a plate and pours a glass
of milk before exiting with both while humming a tune.
Interior Victoria's large bedroom, continuous. Victoria enters Roland is on
the bed, attempting to knot his tie. She sets the
cookies and milk on the nightstand. Roland immediately picks it
up and takes a sip, holding his knot with the
other hand. Next to him is Chloe twenty seven, sexy
wild child, painting her toenails. She sticks her foot in
Roland's face.
Ah, bruse blue, What do you think?
She nearly knocks the glass away from Roland's mouth. A
single drop of milk falls into the white fabric of
Roland's dress shirt.
Can't you see I'm currently involved? Christ's meedy?
He places the glass back down on the nightstand.
Think you're tying a tie, not solving a Rubik's cube.
You know you should be embarrassed you're.
Still at it?
I mean, are you stupid or retarded?
That's a fucked up question. Promise me you'll never say
some shit like that in public, or pretend I don't
know you.
Victoria scans the channels on the TV. Roland gets the
knot right on his tie, but the length is short.
Chloe air drives her feet, making the bed shake.
Is it true? Dolphins and humans are the only two
species that have sex for pleasure?
Can you be still?
Is it true?
Is what true?
Dolphins are really the only animal that like to fuck
just to fuck?
Roland leans in close to her face.
I know we're the only animal that fucks face to face? Now,
would you kindly keep the fuck still?
That hardly answers my question.
Allow of explosion from the TV causes Roland to look
up and see bugs Bunny in a precarious situation about
Dmita's demise, Roland's cell phone rings. He springs up.
Is it true? Sex has a smell?
Wherehere's my phone?
If sex was a candle, I'd buy three for each room.
You might want to talk to somebody about that.
Roland scrambles to locate his phone.
Can we focus? Here? Are you sitting on it?
Roland rolls. Chloe falls off the bed as he shuffles
through the clothes on the floor.
Where is it?
Hey, hey, look alive, ladies the ringing device? Let's locate
it please.
The girls make no attempt to help him.
Oh my god.
Anxious, Roland shuffles through clothes and finally finds his phone.
Hey, rolland here, hi noon, got it? Got it? Got it?
Roland listens carefully. He snatches Chloe's lipstick and scribbles an
address on the bed headboard before hanging up.
Which one of y'all still has a valid driver's.
License interior nineteen sixty nine Camaro. One hour later, the
convertible Camaro with red interior pulls up and parks in
front of a luxurious condo building. Roland is in the
passenger seat, straightening his tie in the mirror.
Fuck ties, goddamn ties are sexy.
It pulls everything together, just like a bow.
She lights a joint.
Have you gone mad?
Relax? I rolled down the window.
Roland stares at her. He grabs the joint and smashes
it out in the asstrak.
Okay, that's not necessary.
Hey, I can't have you getting high in the parking lot.
I need your wits about you. I can't emphasize how
important this meeting is.
I need this to go. Well. It's my first job
in months without Monty, and I'm fucking broke. So please
just stick to the format, will you please.
You didn't have to murder it.
I'm perfectly fine for a later, asshole.
Roland looks around for anything unusual.
All right, I'll be back in twenty minutes ish.
If anyone asks you any questions, you're waiting for your
boyfriend or better yet, your fiance. H Whatever you do,
don't wander off. I can't drive under any circumstances. I
can't be allowed to drive.
Why is that? Okay? Just terrible things.
Feeling sorry for him, Chloe kisses him hard, leaving a
red print on his lips.
Maybe you should take this with you.
Chloe whips out a chrome Desert Eagle. Roland grabs the
gun and quickly hides it from view.
Where did you get that from under my seat? Silly?
Before that, Chloe slides over onto the driver's seat.
My father, Jesus, don't be a set of balls rolling.
I've been shooting since I was six.
I don't care if you're a goddamn spy. Guns are
the quickest way to spoil your luck.
Roland pops out the clip and seats a full cartridge
of bullets, especially loaded ones. Roland slides the gun under
the seat.
I'm begging you, no more surprises.
Roland places the clip of bullets in his jacket pocket.
Okay, just keep it simple for me, all right, Like
you promise.
WHI is a pimple, I promise.
Roland gets out of the car.
Just ring back the souvenir.
You want me to take something for you.
No, I want you to steal something from me. But
it has to be special, not something generic like a
salt shaker or TV remote. That's just too easy. It
has to be something personal.
Is that?
What does it for you?
Yeah? I need a thrill here, statued him a purse.
Roland puts the purse over his shoulder and turns to
face the impressive building. He sees window cleaners high above
a cable snaps, tilting their platform as they struggle to
keep their balance. Taking it as an omen, Roland quickly
looks away, nervously, walking to the entrance. Behind him, Chloe
loads another slip in the gun and relights her smashed
joint interior luxurious condo building, lobby continuous. Roland heads through
the lobby to the elevator, where a ups woman twenty
two fit, beautiful tomboy stands waiting. They glance at each other.
Rain hails, sleep or fire?
What's up the mail?
I believe it's snow, but yes.
Through the exchange, the elevator opens. Roland steps inside and
holds the door for these ps.
Woman going up, I'll get the next one.
The elevator door closes shut. He notices the red lipstick
in his reflection of the door.
Oh. He wipes it off.
Interior luxurious building, penthouse hallway continues. Roland exits the elevator
facing a door numbered P. Thirteen. A build up of
Roland searching for pH three from casually to a frantic
run through the maze of corridors. Exasperated, Roland exits the
elevator once again. Staring at P.
Thirteen.
He notices the missing piece of the h lying on
the floor. He picks it up and holds it up,
completing the pH three door number in disbelief. When the
door swings open, revealing Bonham thirty six, Big South Pacific Man.
Roland hands over the broken piece. You might want to
extent working on it. Bonhom aggressively frisks Roland. Roland notices
a tacktoo on Bottom, which reads does not play well
with others. Bottom finds the clip of bullets.
That belongs to my girlfriend's gun.
Bottom couldn't give a shit.
I have to hide the bullets from her when we fight.
She can be vicious, you know how it is.
Bottom ushers rolling into the apartment. Interior Killian's penthouse entryway continuous.
Roland walks down a hallway with rooms on each side.
He's entered a modern brothel, plucked right out of the
red light district. Oh shit, tempted. Tempted, Roland wants to
stop and peak, but is urged along by bontom interior
Killian's penthouse kitchen continuous. Roland finds Killian cutting fruit at
the counter, wrapped around his hand as a long leather
leash attached to the back of a falconry hood covering
the eyes of falcon brute thirties Herculean in a tom
Ford suit, standing motionless, armed with brass knuckles, just waiting
to be unleashed. Sensing Roland's stare, Killian picks up a
book and recites from it like a Shakespearean play.
Where is the lightning to lick you with its tongue?
Where is the madness with which you should be cleansed? Behold,
I show you the superman. He is this slightning, he
is this madness.
Killian tosses the book over the shoulder and smiles at Roland.
And in the flesh, Sweet Jesus, the myth is true.
You're a difficult man to find, Roland. Well, in my
line of work, I find that to be a good
thing or a very bad thing. You're probably just looking
in the wrong places. And where might the right place be?
The corners, Always the corners, the view is better and
nothing can crawl.
Up your back.
Let me guess Manty is waiting in the car. Ooh,
you're good.
Killian motions to bonhom with his knife. Roland turns as
Bontom sets down a chair for him.
We're all friends. You have no enemies here.
Please excuse my guests. It was a very last minute effort.
They have a way of doing things. No judgments. Oh
I hadn't noticed.
Bottom raises his eyebrow.
The golden boy who never ties his shoelaces while chasing
all the fun, and yet manages to never fall on
his ass.
That's what they say about you.
Who's they wouldn't you like to know? All that matters
is they say you're lucky.
Killian tosses the cut up fruit into a blender.
They say a lot, don't they. I've got nothing to
complain about. I'd say that makes me lucky enough.
I know you're a man who treasures his time.
So I'm gonna ask you this just once before we
go any further. Struderman, think long and hard before you answer.
Go on, can I trust you. Let's get something straight.
You came to me.
Killian tightens his grip on the leash. The sound of
leather squeezing reverberates through the room. He slowly tightens the
slack on the leash, tugging the ring behind falcon Brute's
mask like a pin on a grenade. Roland senses the danger,
yet maintains his composure. Killian turns on the blender as
he stares at Roland. He shuts it off. Roland smirks.
I had a pet snake growing up, an African Boa.
I was about five years old, the only thing my
dad left me. Named him Marshall after him. I loved
every second of it. Before I knew it, he had
grown from five inches to four feet long. He'd even
sleep in the bed with me, and I'd fall asleep
hugging him like he was my life raft.
He'd curl up under my arms and stay warm through
the night.
At some point, around eight years old or so, I
started waking up in the middle of the night and
I couldn't find him.
He was getting bigger, so was I heavier too.
I was concerned I had rolled on him without noticing
and accidentally killed him.
But every time.
I'd find Marshall stretched out on top of the covers
as straight as an arrow. His tail would be at
my feet and his head would be just below my chin.
It went on like that for a while. I didn't
know why he was acting like that, so I looked
into it. Read a few books. You see, all of them,
whatever the age or length, would size themselves next to
their prey.
You see, Marshall was.
Sizing me up, just buying time until he could make
a meal out of me. Now, I ain't take it personal.
A snake is a snake, just as a man as
a man. It didn't matter how much I loved Marshall
or cherish his company. He only knows how to be
a snake. It wasn't malicious, but it was calculated.
So is nature.
I was torn, but it was only a matter of
time before he turned on me. I knew that, so
when I got home, I elected not to push my
luck any further. I carried Marshall myself, turned him over
to the zoo, set my goodbyes.
And left with a heavy heart. I trusted that snake
until I didn't.
I see our situation as very similar In a lot
of ways I could be Marshall. So to answer your
question for now, I suppose the odds are better if
you do.
On the table, Roland places a white rabbit figurine with
an R printed on its belly. In celebration, Killian throws
his knife into a dark board in the wall behind Roland,
nailing the bull's eye. Bottom tosses something and Roland catches it.
He opens his hand and discovers a car key attached
to a white rabbit's foot.
Downstairs, in the parking lot, third row from the back,
you will find a sixty eight Jaguar, deep purple, beautiful car.
But the Jaguar is of little importance to me. It's
what's inside the trunk.
I treasure flashback. Killian enters his living room, dancing with
a glass of Scotch in one hand and a shiny
urn in the other.
I won't bore you with the details. What I can
tell you is that time is of the utmost importance.
Killian sets the urn on the mantle above the fireplace
like a trophy. He admires it.
I had a brother, or rather I have a brother,
and it's safe to say we're built different. When our
father recently passed. God rest his soul. My brother's plans
didn't pan out with mine.
Back to interior Killian's penthouse kitchen, Killian walks toward Roland,
leaving Falcon Bruce behind.
Keep it for a couple days, that's all.
I ask.
Enough time for the oven to drop a few degrees
so I can touch the plate. I'll come for it
when the time is right, easy, breezy, nearly fuck up proof.
What did you say, brother?
Roland's panic sets in as Killian's expressive story fades two silence.
Hmmm, sounds fishy. Why me? Whyatt Because it's pie and
I know how much you like pie. All you have
to do is hold a package for him. That's it.
You need the dough. I know a baker.
He's harmless, gentle as a baby squirrel.
But listen to me.
It don't matter how much he offers you, whatever he
promises or claims, don't do a god fucking damn thing
if his brother is involved.
But run, just run run.
Killian laughs maniacally and slaps Roland's knee, breaking him from
his dad.
Do you know what the best part of winning is?
Roland? Besides winning?
Of course, the look on the other man's face when
you take his trophy. That's what it's all about.
Oh, especially in the end, Especially in the end. A
man always wears the feet right here.
You can't hide it. If his spirit is broken, it
always shows you're losing some blood.
Huh.
Killian touches his nose.
Used to get them as a kid. My mother hated it.
Killian stares at the blood lost for a moment.
Where are my manners?
Would you care for a smoothie?
I have to go to the bathroom. Is that all right?
Mmm?
Did someone plant a revolver on the toilet.
Seat for you?
Killian grabs Roland's face and kisses him hard.
I know it was Euphredo. You broke my heart.
Roland is awkwardly confused, not making the Godfather connection.
Of course, it's all right right down the hall, second
door on the.
Left, interior exterior Killian's penthouse bathroom. Continuous weary by the situation,
Roland leaves the door cracked open to spy on Killian
as he makes a call on his cellphone.
You didn't drive off, did you?
Roland sees Killian kicking the air, fighting his own shadow.
Jesus, Thank God, elephants ago, fly out of my ass
before I take this job. This guy's a few eggs
short of a carton, and by the look, he checked
out years ago.
Roland closes the door.
Ooh, goodbye Marbles.
He spots the toy jack in the box, same as
the opening scene, sitting on the shelf. He smiles, Ah,
I'm on my way down. He hangs up. He grabs
the toy and places it in Chloe's purse. Bang, gunshots
are heard from the kitchen. Terrified, Roland freezes, he scrambles
to climb out of the window onto the balcony. He
dusts himself off and sees Killian through the patio door.
Lying on the floor, bleeding. Falcon Brute is standing next
to him, motionless. He notices bottom flat on his stomach,
out cold, Roland sees the ups woman in the living room,
pulling a knife out of her shoulder. Roland and ups
Woman lock eyes.
Bang, bang.
She fires two shots, shattering the glass, sending Roland stumbling
back as he disappears off the balcony. Lo exterior luxurious
condo building continuous, hanging tightly onto the purse, caught in
a flagpole. A few floors below, Roland sees his cellphone
fall from his pocket into a swimming pool.
Shit.
Shit, okay, shit, I like how you like? Looked at
the script again to see that. Roland swings side to side.
When UPS Woman appears on Killian's balcony above, Roland launches
and makes a miraculously lucky catch onto a terrace. In disbelief,
she fires at it. Roland smashes through the patio door
into interior luxurious condo building communal area continuous. Roland gets
tangled in the curtain and falls into a hot tub
occupied by a family. Roland springs up from the water,
resembling a wet ghost, gasping for air. Mortified, the parents
grab the children and hurry away.
Mommy, I'm scared.
Roland runs off through door one, struggling to remove the
wet curtain, just as two men in speedos enter from
door two and step into the hot tub. UPS Woman
emerges from the terrace in pursuit of Roland, before exiting
through door two. Roland re enters and dives head first
back into the hot tub. He pops up with Killian's
set of keys. Unknowingly, Roland bolts out the same door
as Ups woman. Exterior parking lot continuous. Roland arrives where
Chloe should be waiting.
With a car.
Chloe Chloe Bang Bang. Bullet's ricochet near him. Roland ducks
between two vehicles. He notices two bullet holes in his jacket.
He pokes a finger.
Through the hole. Just go home, leave it alone.
Roland spots the purple sixty eight jaguar or Roland kisses
the white rabbit's foot attached to Killian's keys.
Don't fail me now on three well bang.
Roland takes off, running towards the jaguar. He attempts to
open the trunk, but drops the keys. He quickly reaches
for them as the back window of the jaguar shatters.
He opens the trunk and finds a shiny urn. Not
sure what he's looking at, he quickly grabs the urn
and bolts toward a tree line next to the parking
lot as ups woman continues to fire at him. Exterior
street Continuous. Roland dashes through the tree line, emerging onto
a street where Chloe's Camaro screeches to a halt, sending
Roland onto the hood as the urn slides across the pavement.
The same footage from the police station with his face
pressed against the windshield. Roland sees Chloe sitting in the
passenger seat with an unknown man thirty behind the wheel
with a smashed joint.
In his mouth.
Roland get in the back Chloe now.
Roland hurries to grab the urn and jumps inside the car.
Get the gas.
The Camaro speeds off as ups Woman runs out from
the tree line interior nineteen sixty nine. Camaro continues, who
the fuck is he?
Sand?
We judge not to get it off.
Why are you soaking what?
A bullet shoots to the unknown man's throat, blattering blood
across Roland and Chloe.
Okay.
The car swerves as the unknown man chokes on. Chloe
freaks out. Roland wraps the steering wheel to control the car.
It stops short of smashing into a fire hydrant. Roland
struggles to roll him over on the front seat.
He's dead. I know he's dead. We're not going to
leave him here.
Roland manages to flip the unknown man over as he
disappears onto the back seat. Ups Woman runs down the
street towards Roland. She fires a shot. Chloe returns fire.
Ups Woman takes cover reluctant, Roland jumps in the driver's seat.
The camaro speeds off as ups woman fires upon them.
What what the fuck happening?
That lunicic came out of nowhere?
I had nothing to do with that. I'm on the
balcony and everything was great. Next thing I know, I'm
in a goddamn hot tub.
Bang.
Chloe gets a clean shot right through her chest. In
a tranquil state of shock, she quickly starts to fade out,
unaware she's been.
Shot hot tub?
What are you blabbing about?
Roland notices her wound. Chloe acknowledges she's bleeding.
So I'm bleeding?
Is that an urn?
I think? So?
Did you steal that from me?
Where A pie hits rolland in the face, sending the
car swerving onto a street like hoth, Roland climbs out
of the car, removing pie from his eyes. He hears
commotion on the balcony of a building close by. An
Italian couple screams at each other as the husband throws
fresh pies onto the street down below. Another man in
his underwear hangs from their balcony.
I gotta find Auntie Black.
Super, a man often meets his destiny on the road
he took to avoid it. End of first episode, h