Pablo’s Rhino – Act One

One duderee Samory a final Yeah Pablo's Rhino written by
Craig Goodwill and Sam Ruano, inspired by a true story
fade in Exterior Pacific Coast Highway, California, Day two thousand
and three, A sensible Volvo cruises down an open stretch
of California Highway. Windows are rolled down. Wouldn't it be nice?
Plays over the stereo. We're moving closer for a look
at the driver. Interior exterior Charlie's Volvo day Good Old
Charlie Bleeker forty two, a middle aged white guy in
a short sleeve, button down collar shirt and brown tie.
Handsome if he tried harder, Charlie hums along with his
hands gripped firmly at ten and two. That was wouldn't
it be nice?
By our very own beach boys, You've got a tune
to the dial that makes you smile.
Time for on this day, we look back at nineteen
ninety three making headlines. Ten years ago today, the Space
Shuttle never launches.
Notorious drug cartel leader Pablo Escobar was gutting down by
the Feller Royals, and.
Canadian reggae was topping the charts with Snow's.
Informer informer by snow comes on. Charlie knows every word.
Kind of man.
Yeah, look at boom boom down, boom boom, then down,
look at boom boom down.
Why did you guys learn nothing from the last thing
I did? Here? Several car lengths behind him, we see
a cherry red convertible. The driver is a beautiful sun
kiss surfer girl. Her surfboard is propped up in the
passenger seat. She pulls up alongside Charlie, catching and bopping
along and smiles. Charlie's sunglasses flipped down unintentionally, but it
gets him a laugh. He plays it cool. She gestures
with her hand mimicking a surfboard as if to say,
do you surf? Charlie raised the koi eyebrow. Doesn't everybody win?
An eighteen wheeler pulls up behind Charlie and hanks for
him to speed up. Charlie crooks an eyebrow at the
surfer girl, who bites her lower lip and beckons him
to follow. She drives off. He steps on the gas
but quickly swerves to avoid the truck that just cut
him off. Great now he's stuck staring at this jerks
giant bumper sticker that reads move it or Lose it.
Charlie hawks. He tries to pass, but the truck blocks
him at every turn. The trucker chuckles and flips him
the bird. Oh you want to play, let's play. Charlie
fake's left, moves far right. The truck swerves to block him.
Charlie yanks the steering wheel left and veers into oncoming traffic.
He shrieks as the car is about to crash. Interior
exterior Charlie's Volvo Day. Charlie opens his eyes. He is
not about to die. The red convertible passes him without incident.
More honking cars pass as Charlie realizes his daydreaming is
holding up traffic. Off screen Charlie jecks's rear view mirror.
Christ now what a cop car is pulled up in
front of him? Behind the wheel is a no nonsense
female cop thirty eight we will come to know as Audrey,
Charlie's ex wife. She exits and approaches Charlie curses his
life unbelievable. Were you following me?
License and registration?
What? Seriously? Now?
What am I gonna say?
I have no idea what you're going to say?
Then why'd you roll your eyes?
Why were you following me? She lowers her mirrored sunglasses
and peaks in the back seat. We see a pile
of accounting for Dummies type of books with Charlie's nerdy
face on the cover.
Is this how you drive?
Wind? You're with our son slowly cautiously, of course.
So where are we off to so slowly?
Well to see my publisher if he must know?
So, if we're done, fine, I'll let you off with
a warning.
Oh, some magnanimous Charlie rolls up his window at Audrey
blocks it, saying, shit.
Like that is the reason we got divorced.
Okay, really because I thought it had something to do
with oh, I don't know, you suddenly discovering that you
were right lesbian.
The warning is.
This, Charlie, stay in your lane or you might get hurt.
Are we done?
Oh, we are so done. Don't forget about Ben's career day.
He's expecting you. Charlie salutes her and drives off. Cut
to interior Terrence Coleman's mansion day. A wall of mounted
animal heads stared down at Charlie. They've all been stuffed
to look like they're smiling. Charlie stares at a mount
that has a mirror in place of a head. Beneath
it is an engraved plaque that reads you could be next.
Charlie turns to meet Terrence Coleman seventies, an imposing man
in a smoking jacket with a rifle tucked under one arm.
Yellow Terrence, how's my number one off they're doing? Huh?
Another best seller in the works? Oh yeah, yeah, I
got loads of new ideas. Terrence holds up a finger
to gesture he's on a call. We notice he has
an earpiece in. Charlie shuffles awkwardly, splendid, can't wait to read.
Terrence ands Charlie the rifle I'm not really into. Charlie
holds it like a dead fish.
Fifty large for an advance sound okay, terrific, Hi, Bye bye.
Terrence steps behind Charlie and positions his arms to show
him how to hold it.
You feel that cold, hard steal as you grip the shaft,
slide your finger in Blam dinner.
He slaps Charlie on the back. The gunfire sitting a
statue blowing off its giant cock. Same higher next time.
Okay, Terrence on the phone you said you had some
important news.
Terrence turns, heal and walks out. Charlie follows exterior cliff
side terrace continuous. Terrence walks up to his butler and
hands in his robe. Charlie, you were my very first client.
You took a chance on me when no one else would,
which is why I wanted to tell you this in person.
Beneath the robe, he's wearing a full other body harness
with a studded cod piece and nothing else. His nipples
are pierced with large bull rings. Coleman Publishing has decided
to drop you. What why? The butler holds out gloves
and marksman sunglasses on a tray. Coleman puts these on.
Well, there comes a time when a man needs to
let go and let god.
Okay, I don't know what that means.
It means people aren't buying accounting books anymore. No one
wants to be caught a dummy for something they can have.
Well, someone like you do for them. Well, okay, but
you know it's actually a good thing. Because I was
thinking of switching things up, you know, uh, maybe write
a thriller, Charlie.
Charlie, come on, you're an accountant.
There are many words to describe you, but really, really,
I never said it was an autobiography. Exactly my point.
People these days cray, Romance, Adventure, Danger.
Coleman steps to the edge of a cliff. Charlie peaks,
it's a long way down. I could do danger. He
recoils at the height, clenches his heart.
Charlie, when I first started out, I was living in
a basement apartment selling zines I printed on a dot
matrix printer.
Remember those, yes, yes, I remember.
Now look at me. Much of it I owe to you.
I took your advice and invested.
I invested the royalty.
Sure, probably gotta squirrel away at all sorts, a low risk,
low kind of return.
Ideos it's called fiscal responsibility.
Coleman gives a nod to the butler who hands him
one of Charlie's books. He flips to a mark page.
This is from the forward of your very first book,
Accounting for drooling imbeciles. The most important investment you will
ever make is in yourself.
What's your point.
Well, I'm gonna do for you which you did for
me all those years ago. I'm gonna give you the
chance to invest in yourself.
So you're not dropping me.
Oh, I'm still dropping you, but with a first look promise.
So whenever you write next.
There to be different. That's it. Life doesn't come with
a safety Ned Paul, the butler yanks the skeet lever,
shooting off a disc. Coleman falls backwards off the terrace
and fires, smashing the clay pigeon the bits good luck.
The bungee cord snaps back minus Coleman. Charlie and the
butler casually peer off the ledge and cringe. We see
a parachute open up. Cut two Exterior Alta California public
school day. Charlie pulls up to the front of the school.
HiT's a drive carefully signed. He gets out in a
rush to stand it back up. His cell phone rings.
Charlie fumbles to answer it. Intercut with exterior Tropicolligue Club
Ali Day, Marcus forty two Every part. The harry chested,
gold chain wearing club owner is on the other end,
supervising a delivery of kegs being unloaded. Marcus, I can't
talk right now. Oh hello, Marcus, how's my oldest, bestest friend.
I'm fine, Charlie, thanks for asking. Listen I'm late for
Ben's career day. Oh Ben needs a job. Why don't
you say so? Can he ten barr? He's nine, so
I'm thinking no. Charlie hurries into the school men's room attendant.
Then anyway, listen, I need your input on a business thing.
What kind of business thing? Investment opportunity?
Okay, Marcus, I'm pretty swamped these days working on a
new book.
Yeah, remind me again who saved you from drowning back
in third grade? Sam did only because I pushed him
in two alleyway. A car pulls up at the other
end of the alley. Two burly Latino guys get out.
One holds a bat back on Marcus. Oh fuck, what
what's the matter? Nothing? Nothing, We'll discuss it at Sam's party,
so do not bail. Marcus walks away, slowly at first,
then briskly. The guys follow. Oh good, is that tonight?
Marcus takes off running. Okay, gotta got to talk later.
Charlie hears heavy panting on the line, so he hangs up.
Interior Out the California Public School hallway day, Charlie stops
in front of a classroom and peeks in, spotting his
cherubic son Ben eight. He waves. Ben looks up like
he've just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
The teacher twenty eight comes over and opens the door
for Charlie. Bye, am I too late?
Too late for a career Day.
I'm Charlie Bleeker, Ben's dad.
Oh you must be the donor. Ben's other moms said
you might stop by. Of course, you're welcome to sit
in donor.
Very confused, Charlie is let inside to find interior classroom day.
Carla forty two, an attractive, albeit hulking woman in a
security guard uniform, addresses the class beneath a banner that
reads career Day okay.
As head of the stadium security, Rose Jade through l
I've been in the shit. Shit sorry, I said to
shit work.
The kids giggle. Charlie's about to protest, but he looks
over at Ben, who begs him with his eyes to
keep quiet.
Anyway, where was I shit? Right?
Shit?
That's why I carry.
This bat boy. Carla lifts a pant leg to reveal
a taser. She takes it out of its ankle holster
and holds it up for everyone to see.
Fifty thousand bolls pissed your pants just this ride here,
kids about it around.
Teacher scrunch is a no smile. Carla shrugs and holsters it.
Last bit of advice before I go.
Carla leans in like it's a secret. The class leans
in too.
You ever find yourself under some tweaker, quakest way to
get him or hair off? Jamathum, light up the people,
no matter the size of that. That's some of a bitch,
but right off every time. Go ahead. I tried it
on a friend.
A few kids in the back are already trying.
Okay, that was insightful, class.
Can we all say thank you to missus Bleeker?
No, she's not. Carla sits and gives Charlie the old
finger guns. Charlie stands, coughs. Expense.
Oh okay, we have a final surprise speaker, Benjamin's paternal figure,
the event's actual dad.
Charlie nods and walks up to the front awkwardly. Just
as the bell rings, the kids dash out before Charlie
can even say Hi, Carlos. Watch Charlie in the back
as she leaves.
Hey, Chuck, looks like I stole your spot again.
Sorry dad, She kind of just showed up, I tried stalling.
You really should have been here sooner.
Ben runs off after his friends, leaving Charlie alone. Cut
to exterior Tropicali Club Night. A bouncer lets a few
people in through the double doors, past a sign that
reads closed for private event.
Oh, Stacy and I are well, we're just so happy
to have our friends and family here.
Interior Tropicali Club Night. Sam forty one, stylish with boyish
good looks, gives a speech while Stacy thirty eight, his
frisky and perpetually drunk new fiance, keeps fondling his ass,
making it even tougher for him to speak.
To help us celebrate our oh engagement like this, and
well we look forward to.
See you at Stacy sloppily nibbles on Sam's ear. The
crowd cheers for the story until he relents.
Well, okay, we were walking back to my place a
little gipsy in a gothic so I turned to Stacy
and I said, will you carry me?
People in the crowd snicker, Stacy flashes a devil's side.
Before I know it, Stacy had planned this party and.
Booked a caterer.
Sam's husky dad steps in and grabs the mic as
Sam hands and drunk Stacy after one of her friends.
Who would have thought, after all these years, my boy
walking down a man and wife man and fucking what?
People cheer. A voice from the back calls out over
the crowd, I love you. The crowd turns to see Philippe,
thirties flamboyant I'll be a tiny French man storming in
from the back. Philippe, Charlie and Marcus exchange looks, oh shit.
Crowd turns back to Sorry, do I say Philip or Filippe?
I don't think you should try to decide it, And
quite honestly, I like, if you're calling him one thing,
I'll keep calling Yeah.
Charlie and Marcus exchange looks, oh shit. Crowd turns back
to Philippe, then to Sam, then to Stacy.
You said you loved me.
I'm of what I.
Know was Sam marinates, and everyone stares takes a deep breath.
Oh fuck it, we mo showy, we we I love
this man and I'm going to drunk Stacy smashes sand
with a right hook up.
Drunk Stacy smashes sand with the right horse. Philip jumps
on Stacy's back. She swings him around, knocks Charlie in
the gut. He goes, crashing into the drink tape. Marcus
tries to intervene and gets smashed in the face by Stacy. Damn.
People stand back and.
Gone, that's my boy.
Dissolved to Interior TROPICALI Club. Later, everyone's gone loons deflated
in the banner torn. Charlie and Marcus stood at the
bar of flanking Sam, who holds a bottle of wine
over his swollen eye. They all look like they've been
through the ringer. So that went well. Charlie pat Sam
on the back.
I guess you were bound to find out sooner or later.
I've been living a lie.
Charlie and Marcus exchange a look, a beat, a crack up.
So you guys knew how.
I only figured it out a couple of months ago.
Who told you, Well, let's see your parents, teachers, Mailman
co Triley, pastor Tim Shaloomba, that foreign exchange kid back
in eighth grade. A bar man comes over and whispers
into Marcus's ear. He downs his drink and makes his
way towards the kitchen.
You know how hard it was for me to admit
I relax gay.
It's a new black. Just ask Charlie's gay black wife. Yeah.
The only reason we never said anything was because it
seemed like such a big deal to you.
So wait this time, I could have been just proud
and loud.
Refill. Sam holds up two fingers. Okay, I better go
see where Marcus ran off to. Charlie makes his way
to the kitchen. He's about to push through the swinging
doors when he sees Marcus through the portal window in
a heated discussion with two South American forty mob guys.
One of them cheves Marcus up against the wall before
exiting past Charlie. Marcus sucks in his gut and follows
them out.
Sure, yep, I'll call you.
What was that all about? That just one of my
backers telling me he's uh, he's back. Sam walks up
to them, waving an empty glass. Hey, the man of
the hour. Marcus throws an arm around both of them.
What's what the long faces?
I thought we were celebrating, celebrating what exactly our collective
midlife crises.
Sammy coming out, you being canned? Whatever? Listen, I got
three words.
For you, kill me now, All inclusive vacation.
Oh please don't tell me this has something to do
with your investment opportunities. Gentlemen, A little investment opportunity has
fallen into my lap, and there it is.
I would like the two of you to join me
on a sun filled getaway too.
Yes, the answer is yes. Oh sorry, go on Columbia, Yes, Columbia.
Are you insane? No? No, no, no, cut me out?
Fuck you mean you're out. Charlie shrugs like it's common knowledge,
counts on his fingers.
Okay, let's see kidnapping drug card tells salted pork pick one.
The only people who go to Columbia are drug meules
and guys with hairy chest named Rico.
Okay, first off, racist. Secondly, you just described half the
big area Sam Knud's in agreement. Charlie looks back in
the direction of the kitchen and Crooks and I at Marcus.
Wait wait, wait, wait, wait, this wouldn't have anything to
do with your backer.
By chance. Marcus waves off the thought. He whips out
a pamphlet and hands it to Charlie. Yeah, I forget him.
Check the sound Raiso better deep dough. Please tell me
you did not buy a vacation resort better. I bought it. Okay,
well not yet, but my buddy Manny's making some incredible deal.
Marcus, you are insane and I have prison man love
for you.
Well, well, I'm sorry. Did you just say us it's
the deal of a lifetime. Why wouldn't I want to
cut my best friends in? Okay?
Because I thought we agreed you were going to run
these kinds of things by me from now on.
I am right now. We're taking five glorious days of
coma inducing fun in the Caribbean sun. Colombia is not
in the Caribbean. Whatever common savia. Marcus, you do not
know the first thing about running a resorce, so we
hire people to run it for us. You keep using
this word us. All right. Look, if it wasn't for me,
all you'd ever do is stay home, play with your
dolls and cry over your failed marriage.
They are reenactment figururinges websites.
You need this.
It's time to get back on the whole with an
as exactly, would you rather be an action figure instead
of play with him? Charlie considers this before coming to
his senses.
No, No, I can't just up and run off to Columbia.
I've got responsibilities. Charlie picks up the empties and walks off.
The old Charlie would have jumped out a chance like this. Well,
let me know if you see him. He's got some
explaining to do. Off Sam and Marcus watching him go.
Cut to exterior Audrey's house day. Charlie parks his car
and steps out, shocked by what he sees. In the driveway. Ben,
in full goalie gear, is duct taped to a hockey
net like a drill dummy. Well, Carla takes slap shots.
One ball hits Ben in the chest. Ben WinCE's dad, Benny,
what the hell is this? Carla turns to see Charlie approach.
Oh hate shot, still cruising around in that Oh vava,
I see, Kerla, Why the hell is my son tied up? Well,
little guy wanted to learn how to man up and
take a slapshot. He hears someone had to teach him.
Come on, dad me. Carla offers Charlie the stick, expecting
him to back down. No, no, no, this ends now.
I don't be such a milk dot, Charlie, do it
for the kid.
Charlie can feel Ben's eyes on him. He grabs the stick,
feels the balance of it in his hands. He winds
up for the shot. Carla, next time an eight year
old tells you to tie him up. Charlie releases top
left corner, nothing but net. Think like had grown up
and don't another shot, nothing but net. Just as Charlie
goes to release his third shot, Audrey comes out of
the house.
Charlie, what are you insane?
The ball flies and hits Ben's square in the groin.
He grunts, He grunts and falls forward with the net
falling on top of him.
And Kevin, have you ever been hit the balls before?
Charlie?
Are you insane?
The ball flies and hits Ben's square in the groin.
He grunts and falls forward, with the not falling on
top of him. Charlie drops the stick. They rushed to Ben.
He just Charlie, He's just a kid, Ben sweete? Maybe
are you a right?
Oh? Benny? I am so sorry. Audrey ripped through the tape.
Did you see it? I took it in the pills
like like a jam.
What the hell were you thinking?
Charlie is flamixed.
Are you responsible, Chuck? You could have seriously hurt the boy.
Charlie seethes, but decides not to turn it into a thing.
I'm sorry, buddy. Are you all right? Yea, all right?
Double bag?
Just like Carla told me, you want to see that?
A check? He's going first, just in case.
Charlie throws Carla a look, what are you doing here? Anyway?
Well, I can't buy to tell Ben I won't be
able to take him to the Civil War reenactment this weekend.
It turns out I need to work.
Okay, So first you almost kill our son, and now
you're bailing on him.
It's pretty low even for you.
Charlie takes a knee. Ben doesn't want to show he's
really not all that disappointed.
No, that's okay, I understand.
I mean, since it's for work, well yeah, the pressure's on.
But look, I'll make it up to you, all right, bud.
So I mean, is it okay?
Then if Carlo chaperone's a camping trip with the other dads.
From school, this one cuts deep, but Charlie concedes for
Ben's sake. The camping trip he forgots. Yeah, absolutely, I
just want you to have fun. Just don't let her
tiet any trees. Ben nods and they hug before Charlie
heads back to his car.
Love your dad after another exciting a counting convention chuck.
She cackles. Charlie walks off, sets a blow, voices swirl
in his head. There are many words to describe you,
but really, your Lane, would you rather be an action
figure instead of play with him? Bang? Charlie turns back
and walks right up to Carla, projecting all the swagger
and man and cargo pants can muster.
Matter of fact, Carla, I am headed to a little
country called Columbia, only one of the deadliest places on Earth.
Jungle so dense even the trees will kill you. Twenty
foot anaconda ready to swallow you up. Ben's mouth drops.
This is the coolest thing ever.
Axcesspool of cutthroat gorillas and drug pushers armed to the
teeth with automatic weapons, looking to rip out your tongue
and use it for a stamplicker.
That's where I'm going.
And if you ever time I get up again, I
will come back and show you how it's done.
We clear, carl Carla is stunned. Charlie puts his shades
back on. Surprised with himself, he walks back to his car.
Audrey catches up with him.
Hey, hey, Charlie, listen about career date.
Don't mention it. You know, I kind of felt bad
for Carla so awkward. She smiles. There's still some weakness
left between them. So Columbia really research my new book.
It's a thriller. Audrey is impressed, so he tries to
hide a smile and laugh.
What's just for a second there, I thought about when
we first met and how excited you were to write
the great American novel.
Maybe it's time to change lanes. Charlie smiles, turns to
walk to his car. Hey, Charlie looks back.
Check your blind spot.
Okay, Charlie winks and turns. His confidence descends into dread prelaps.
Screaming jet turbines take us to exterior Cartagmia Airport runway
day establishing. The plane screeches down onto a heat blurred
tarmac over traditional Cumbia music. Exterior Cartagmia Airport Arrivals exit day,
slow mo. Marcus swaggers like Don Johnson, hair slipped back,
Sam sporting a neckerchief, struts like a peacock. Charlie straggles,
covered in sweat, looking green. The front of the airport
fossils with fruit venders, beggars and touts pushing taxis and brothels.
Hmmm, not the village people I was hoping for.
Through a camera mat from a distance, the guys are
oblivious they are being photographed. Click photo of Marcus. Keep
your eyes peeled, man, He said there'd be a driver.
Click photo of Sam.
I need a fantom anyone else?
Click photo of Charlie. How about a deadman shot shot? Yeah,
now you're thinking, let me see if I can find
all right?
Do bring the car around, Marcus, here's a good man.
Marcus flips on the bird as he walks off exterior
streets of Cartagenia continuous. A couple big sweaty men standing
around an old van sniker at Marcus's approach. Hold on me, goes,
I'm looking for a car that's supposed to take me
to takes out brochure caraso perdido, bring any bells? They
all laugh. Marcus, not getting the joke, laughs along. Yeah, sure,
we take you there, Marika. The second trucker reaches behind
his back for a pistol. Excellent, excellent. Did a senior
row house send you see many rojas? He said he'd
send a car. But I guess just just say oh great,
so you do, no manny. The truckers get in their
truck and apologetically drive off. Wa way, don't you guys? Guys.
Exterior streets of Cartha Hayen, The convenience stand continuous. Charlie
glumly watches a few street kids playing soccer while he waits.
The ball rolls over Charlie's way. He stops it and
passes it back to a kid. The kid arks the
ball back to catch in the nape of his neck.
Charlie nods suitably impressed. The kid smiles and rubs his
index finger and thumb together. All right, kid, that's worth
a payesi. Charlie takes out his velcro wallet. The kid
kicks the ball right at Charlie's nose. Stunned, he drops
the wallet. The kid grabs it and takes off. He
gets about ten feet when he's yanked back hard, seconds
before a speeding truck almost hits him. Charlie comes running
to find Lucia, a stunning Colombian woman thirty four, dressed
like a female Indiana Jones with no nonsense attitude. The
police badge dangles from her neck.
Ah yeah, hummet the hemmy umm.
Charlie, still seeing stars, looks up and gets a glimpse
of her backlit by the sun, looking like an angel.
Oh that was amazing, Ara.
The kid unwillingly hands her the wallet. She lets him
go and he runs off. Lucia opens it and checks
Charlie's ID.
Charlie Bleaker, if you insist on being at target, at
least be a moving one.
Thanks, I'll remember that. Marcus and Sam come running up
to them. Lucie eyes them all tosses back the wallet.
Columbia can be a dangerous place, Charlie Bleeker, be more careful.
She walks off. But what's your name? Can I call
you endosos?
What a beautiful name in your dreams?
Charlie definitely. Sam shakes his head and leaves Charlie staring
off smitten. Exterior Cartagenia Streets Day. We follow the street
kid as he walks past a man forties gobbling a
hamburger at a curbsided cantina. The man sticks out his
foot and blocks the kid. This is Agent Knowles with
the Dea, a Miami Vice throwback with Permas double.
Where's the wallet?
Some lady, she just taught me The.
Kid tries to grab a fry nose pulls them away.
This guy Americano see see and the woman who stopped you?
Did they know each other?
Me? No? Think so. Noel slices the plate of fries
back with two thousand pesos under it. The kid grabs
it all and takes off. A thin man in a
straw hat comes out of the cantina, the camera slung
around his neck. This is Agent Martinez, forties.
And an useful more touristas in search of paradise. Courtesy
of Manny Rojas.
Exterior Cartagena Airport day. An El Dorado convertible pulls up
in front of the guys. Ernie, a skinny kid twenties
and cheap sunglasses, flashes a wide grin.
What did I when you guys done? Marcus?
Oh yeah, Marcus. Marcus is my first name.
This is Charlie and that's it.
Akomucho, Gusto, I am mar Nesto. Your driver call me Ernie.
Ernie pops the tronk, cops out and opens the doors.
Ah, what did I tell you?
First class? All the way?
I'd hate to see last.
Ernie grabs their bags and throws them in the trunk.
Oh kermanos better race always jewel.
As Charlie gets in, he spots Lucia across the street.
Hey, Charlie, isn't that.
You're a dream girl?
Oh yeah, what did you say her name was?
It was something exotic sounding and to swineyo, something like that.
Ernie laughs and they pull out and drive off.
In your dreams, Charlie, in your dreams.
Exterior Colombian countryside driving day. Ernie switches on some reggaeton
music as the guys take in the colorful Colombian city escape.
So is Colombia as dangerous as everyone says? It is?
No?
No, no, It's much safer these bat ten years, Don
Bablo left us.
Don Bablo? What was he like? Your president or something?
They all look back at him. Are you kidding? Escabar?
You tip? I knew that?
Who's Pablo Escobar?
They all look at Sam like he's got nipples for eyes.
Only, the richest, most notorious drug lord in history.
Ernie's megawatts smile is momentarily replaced by a haunted expression.
Yah Escucci.
Some say Patron was the cancer of Colombia.
Many call him the Beatron, saint.
Of pain and the warning of agony, rumors persistent, he
never died and wastes the shadows so that one day
he may rise again.
He crosses himself. Sam is still confused.
Okay, so not your president.
Cut to exterior Finker Hideaway Day, establishing angle on an
idyllic pastoral scene of a country farmhouse until we notice
the armed guards in full on camouflage. Interior Fink Hideaway,
Front Hall Day. Maria Chung forty two, a five foot nothing, spunky,
big haired ball buster of an ape woman, carrying her
yappy lasso apso like a clutch handbag, and then a rolled
up newspaper in the other hand. She opens the front door,
pushing aside an armed guard.
Move wait easy.
Rudy, a henchman, comes out to greet her, smiling nervously.
Donia Maria, Oh, we did anice, but you have so soon.
Oh your vacation.
Don't give me any of that shit. Where the head
is my husband?
Oh, don't barlow.
He's in the kitchen preparing lunch for the children.
She shows the paper to Rudy.
Did you know about this?
Why don't I am not privileged to such things? Smack
Maria swats him with the paper and then storms down
the hallway. I didn't do that again, sure smack. Maria
swats him with the paper and then storms down the hallway.
Interior Escobar Hideaway Kitchen day Baba Pablo fifty four, the
instantly recognizable mustachioed bear. Where's a frilly apron over his
Safari shirt? He stands in front of a hot stove,
chomping on a cigar, making grilled cheeses.
I know you can't hear me.
Pablo's eyes go wide. He takes a cigar out of
his mouth, chucks it out an open window, and waves
his hand to clear up the smoke.
That better not be smoke ice man.
The door pushes open and walks Maria fit to be tied.
Maria mianghill, you're back. What am I going to say?
I have no idea what you are going to say?
Then?
Why do you rub your eyes?
What has gotten you?
Sol?
Set me up? More?
Explain yourself?
She slams the paper down on the counter angle On
front page, the headline reads Escabar Dead or Alive, above
a grainy photograph of Pablo in a ball cap and
sunglasses walking through a forest like bigfoot. This is the
laicious gossip mongering. Why you pay attention?
A better question is why would I that man?
This is it the fucking so he grimaces, the word
stuck in his throat. Then okay, fine, it was me
I did it.
But Geria, I need to see my animals next to you.
They are my everything.
What about your children?
What about them?
Ten years? Ten years you have been dead, and you
come out to feed the fucking animals?
Yo, Maria, my hippos, my rhino.
They're out there in the wild, cold and alone. They
need me. I swear if.
Anything were to happen to Who is the head of
this family?
Now?
He waffles technically on paper? Who you are?
Correct? O, Joe? I am the one who's wearing low pants.
I control the production and the You can throw the cheese.
Maria storms out of the kitchen. Pablo tastes his grilled cheese.
Not bad, okay bad. Cut to exterior front gates, Pariso
Perdido Day. The car drives to security station flanked by
armed guards. Ernie waves and the cars allowed to pass
exterior pededdo day. As the sun dips below the trees,
we arrive at an old colonial villa framed by exotic
floral tapieries. O yep. As the sun dips below the trees,
we arrive at an old colonial villa framed by exotic
floral topieries and fountains framed by fruit trees and palm fronds.
There were interior pardiso Perdido Villa's day. Ernie opens the
doors to an enormous room. The guys are dumb struck.
The luxurious suite is decked out in a tropical motif,
with marble floors and gold fixtures. It screams money you
like you.
Senor Rojas forgets he cannot be here to greet you personally,
but he has instructed me to extend every courtesy.
His house is your house, hey, because of sucasa, I
just got that. The guys drop their bags. Marcus pulls
out a fiver for Ernie. Oh please, I will consider
it in nofense. Marcus pushes it back into Ernie's pocket.
Winks, okay, now if you gotbayotl excuse me, I must
confro with the shot about dinner.
Ernie turns pulls out the dirty bill like it's a
used tissue. Now this is living, screw living, This is heaven.
Charlie opens the door to an adjoining identical suite. Check
it out, adjoining room. You see. I told you guys,
man Any is the real deal. Yeah, well I will
reserve judgment. Oh crazy ship, He's gonna go down. I
can feel it.
Speaking of Sammy needs to drop a doble, so I'm
off to find the little Majajo's room.
Sam steps into the suite and starts humming Charlie's room.
Charlie unpacks, putting everything away neatly, while Marcus grabs a
Swan towel off his bed and pretends to hump it.
You time again, I think a time to wang chunk Columbian.
Stop uppy. What do you think I think you're gonna
catch swanab about buying the place? Man? I mean you're
the investment gurum.
Okay, Marcus, we've been here less than an hour. I
get you wanted to and everything, but you're not seriously
considering buying this place, are you?
Admit it? You don't think I have the business smarts
to pull this off to you?
Okay, Look, it's not like running a nightclub. The hospitality
industry is a major commitment and no offense.
Sam walks back in, fanning himself.
You should buy this place for the bidet alone.
It's liberating. Charlie doesn't think I'm smart enough to run
a resort, because you're not.
But you could pay someone to be smart enough like
you do for the bar.
Marcus is satisfied with that.
Okay, look, putting aside the monumental risk factor, the finance,
and the liability, do you even know what's around here
or anything at all about this country?
For that matter. It's called due diligence. Marcus grabs three
beers in the mini bar and tosses them out. Sam screams,
completely missing the bottle. It smashes through a window. Marcus
pulls out another. I thought you might say that, which
is why I arranged for us to go on a
little fact finding mission, you know, taking some the local culture.
How local Cut to exterior jungle mountain roads, moving jeep,
day Ernie and the guys riding a range rover through
the winding countryside. The jeep pulls into a clearing in
front of a small thatched hut with a satellite dish.
They all hop out exterior Mamo's hut.
Day okay, chicos to fully appreciate the beauty of Columbia.
You need to burd yourself of all impurities in order
to be born again.
It's true, Colombianos.
I thought impurities were the whole reason we came.
I will consider this your spiritual rebirth. Okay, LISTO, not
in the listo.
And for the record, I was told we were going
to a day spa.
Charlie pokes a wind chime of tiny skulls hanging off
a tree.
Okay, remind me again why you thought this was a
good idea. For one, this will help.
You unclench or at the very least, Loki's just so
blitch to totally forget your name. Charlie shrugs. Good point.
Interior Mamo's hut Day. The guys walk in through the
beaded curtain as a fire pit in the center, surrounded
by log benches. They sit. Huh, holy fucka duck.
It's like Satan's finer in here.
Don't be rude because he's somebody's house. Enter Mamo eighties,
very muscular for a man his age. He's naked except
for a loincloth and feathered head dress.
Okay, now we're talking.
The Mamo chants in his Mountain language as he reaches
into a pouch and blows a handful of cocaine dust
at them. Charlie lays a very wet old man sneeze
right in Marcus's face. Dude, seriously. Charlie wipes his nose,
looks around for something to wipe his hand on, but
there's nothing, so he wipes it on Sam oOoOO on Mamo.
He takes out a clay bowl and blows some cigar
smoke into it, letting the fumes waft over him. He
takes a sip and passes it to Marcus. Went in room.
I guess, sweet Jesus, he's already forgotten where we are.
Marcus takes a swig and passes it to Sam, who
gags from the smell. He drinks and passes the bowl
to Charlie. Are you feeling anything? Sam and Marcus exchange
looks and shrug either feel a thing. Charlie resigns himself
to the moment. Why do I let you talk me
into this stuff? Charlie takes a giant gulp. Everyone watches him,
and then slowly a smile comes across his face. Uh,
that actually tastes kind of kind of He falls to
his knees and wretches. Marcus and Sam laugh maniacally in
slow motion, then to join in the puking exterior shaman. Later,
Marcus and Sam ra at a water pump, trying to
wash the shit stains off their underpants. Charlie emerges born again.
Marcus and Sam go to.
Him, Charlie, we thought you were dead, gentlemen.
I am alive and ready too.
No I like wretches. Pre Lap Q Wild Columbian Party,
music Party, Montage night, Gambling Pit. Charlie, Sam and Marcus
in a boozy haze punch over a dirt pit, surrounded
by gambling farmers, all clutching bills across from them. Ranchero
pulls the draw string on a burlap sack and a
cob brustlers out. Charlie scoffs, He whistles, and a monkey
jumps into the pit, clips up on a switch blade.
The crowd goes wild. Scorpion Dan. We make our way
through a crowd of onlookers to the front of the crowd.
At the front, a shirtless Marcus is in a chugging
contest with another man as the crowd cheers them on.
We pan down to reveal scorpions clamp to each of
their nipples. The other guy swells up horribly, making Marcus
the winner. Fight cage. Sam, bare chested and spent, sits
on a stool in the corner of a chain link
fight cage. The crowd shouts his name. He does another
rail of blow. The bell dings, and a horde of
masked midget Lucca d'oro's poor in Sam howells and bats
each one away neon love Motel. Marcus's door opens and
outwalked two gorgeous women, followed by a satisfied Marcus. Next door,
a terrified Charlie runs out, followed by a humongous, sweaty woman.
Sam's door opens and out comes three gorgeous men, eight
masked midget wrestlers, the Switchblade Monkey, and a couple of
chick followed by Sam doing up his robe dissolved to
exterior truck moving through the jungle. Next morning, Ernie drives
over bumpy terrain. Marcus, Sam and Charlie are dressed in
suits looking very hungover.
Ugh, my head feels like it was shot out of
a ferret.
Remind me again what part of waking up at the
ass crack of dawn was a good idea.
Waking up this is real. You said you wanted the
wood cultural experience distant POV. And again they are being watched.
Exterior Jungle road night, Noles and Martinez sit in a
park jeep Nole's hands, Martinez a pair of binoculars scope Matt.
The jeep stops, and our weary travelers pour out. Ernie
and his helper Louise unload a duffel bag of AK
forty seven's What do you think could be arms dealers?
Back to scene?
It's possible.
Whoever these guys are, they are no amateurs.
My guess. Rojas is making a run for the throne.
Noel smiles, throws an armor around Martinez.
This is the one we've been waiting for, Marty.
We do this right.
We finally get out of this shithole country.
How do you want to handle it? We waited this long.
Let's see how it plays out.
Exterior Deep Jungle day. Charlie shuffles along, his head is pounding,
Marcus plays quick draw with an oozy Sam is busy
filating a large cigar.
Okay, I'm starting to see the appeal of these things.
Whose idea was it to wear suits in the middle
of a rainforest.
Last day, I thought it'd be nice to class things up. Plus,
we look super dope. Marcus practices his quick draws because
we are dopes. Shouldn't we at least have safety vents
or goggles or oh my god, well you quit warning.
These guys are professionals. Ernie and his helper Louise approach.
Ernie carries a rifle.
Okays, today we go through one of the most dangerous
places in the world without here Omri man rules Jez,
So what are you having, loca jungle ko?
I know right? Trudging through the jungle, Louise holds up
a fist for all to stop. He goes to the
edge of the tree line and looks in. Something big approaches.
We hear snorts. There's a mustn't think. Ernie laughs and
shakes his head Louise.
Louise says he finds a ferocious wild cow to shoot,
very very dangerous.
He ask he gets the start of this.
The maneto okay because cuts the money.
Louise makes noises to attract the beast, snorting, followed by
more russell. Ernie turns to Charlie.
Okay, Charny here's your chance.
What me? Oh oh no, no, no, no, no, I
knew I want to shoot a cow, Charlie, don't insult them,
kill a fucking cow. I give you at it. The
snorting gets louder. Louise pokes his head into the brush.
The beast tears out of the forest. It's definitely not
a cow, but a charging four ton rhinoceros. The rhinoat
butts lose, but sends him flying. Now it's headed straight
towards the guys.
Accordingly, run, run, you got run.
The rhino butt's Ernie out of the way. Sam and
Marcus die for cover. Charlie froze, time slows, his heart
pounds like a kettle drop. The rhino charges. Charlie takes
a deep breath, grips the shaft, slides his finger to
the trigger, and flammo. The rhino skids to a stop
barely a few feet away. Dead. The shot echoes through
the trees. Everyone is speechless a long beat until they
erupt elated, Oh.
My fucking god, that was insane.
Ernie slowly takes the gun out of Charlie's hand.
What just happened, Charlie, you saved us?
Okay? Then Charlie faints and falls to the ground. Marcus
rushes to his side and slaps Charlie to wake him up.
Charlie awakens and slaps him back to hell early slap fight.
What out? Okay, you're kidding?
All right it, don't you fret?
Cow?
Fuck you to be wrong, But this doesn't look like
a cow.
They turn their attention to Ernie, approaching the dead beast.
On Ernie, he cocks his pistol and carefully approaches the carcass.
That's because it's not a cow, yourse meal isino setos?
You showed a fucking rhinoceros? Oh that is so baller.
All three move in for a closer look. Ernie checks
his head and confirms it one clean shot right between
the eyes. Ah poorn, little guy. Ernie notices a tag
on the rhino's ear and stumbles back. Does the sign
of the cross? Send somebody who? Beneath of the ds?
Marcus reads the tag appropriata de Pablo Escobar. Holy shit, dude,
not just any random You just killed Pablo Escobars rhino.
Is that bad? I would say that is in a
whole other fucking time zone. From bad into Act one,