The Ladykillers Page #2

MRS. MUNSON

Well God bless ya. Don't wanna be

tried and found wantin'.

SHERIFF WYNER:

No ma'am.

MRS. MUNSON

Many many tunkalow parzen, Sheriff

Wyner. Many many tunkalow parzen!

SHERIFF WYNER:

Many what ma'am?

MRS. MUNSON

You have been tried and found wanting.

Don't want that writin' on the wall!

SHERIFF WYNER:

No ma'am--

MRS. MUNSON

Feast a Balthazar!

SHERIFF WYNER:

Mm-hm.

MRS. MUNSON

John The Apostle said: Behold there

is a stranger in our midst, come to

destroy us!

SHERIFF WYNER:

Yes ma'am.

EXT. SAUCIER MUNICIPAL BUILDING - DAY

Mrs. Munson closes the door behind her. She wags a paper fan

and mutters:

MRS. MUNSON

He's a good man. Just needs

instruction. Dog, you in peoples'

way.

The dog stirs with a whine and ambles off.

EXT. MUNSON HOUSE - DAY

With a neatly tended garden. It is the last house on a street

of other similarly modest but well maintained homes; beyond

it the street disappears down a bluff. The empty space beyond

suggests a wide river, and indeed we can see the top of an

anchored, gaudily painted paddle-boat poking over the rise.

The paddle-boat is apparently anchored at the near bank of

the river.

Mrs. Munson is entering by the gate. She stops in the garden

and stoops to pull a tiny weed marring the otherwise perfect

row of flowers.

I/E. MUNSON HOUSE - FOYER - DAY

Mrs. Munson lets herself in. A cat lopes up to her, the bell

around its neck tinkling, and leans mewing into her leg.

MRS. MUNSON

You need somethin' to eat, Angel?

INT. MUNSON HOUSE - KITCHEN - DAY

Mrs. Munson hand-cranks a can opener around a tin of cat

food.

MRS. MUNSON

Mm... gizzards...

The cat paces back and forth between her legs, leaning into

them and purring, responding to the snap of tin as the cover

comes off the can.

The can contains cubed processed gizzard in a gelatinous

medium like the stuff that clings to gefilte fish.

INT. MUNSON HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

Above the fireplace is an oil portrait of a serious-looking

black man of late middle-age with a neatly groomed mustache

starting to gray. A couple of candles sit on the mantel below

the portrait, giving it the semblance of a shrine.

Mrs. Munson enters and lights the candles.

MRS. MUNSON

Othar, I went'n complained about

WeeMack, I hope it'll do some good.

That boy hangin' by a thread! Over

the pit! Fiery pit! "I Left My Wallet

in El Segundo"!

She shakes out the match and sits in a rocker and takes up

her knitting. As she sits she gives an audible groan.

MRS. MUNSON

...Sixty-seven years of life, forty-

six years of marriage, you mean to

tell me you never one time suffered

from piles? It's the human condition,

most humans anyway. Like that ball

player said:
world's got two kinds

of folks -- them that's got piles

and them that's gonna get 'em. But

you was always healthy as an ox...

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