Thunderheart Page #3
- R
- Year:
- 1992
- 119 min
- 1,278 Views
FENCE MAN:
What ya got there, seventy-five
thousand?
CARL:
LOUIS (BLACK MAN)
Have the girl count it, we can't sit
around here countin' bonds, we got
things to do here.
The fence man pushes an intercom button and yells into a
speaker.
FENCE MAN:
SALLLLY!
Carl's eyes flit to Ray. Ray's eyes flit to Carl.
Louis crushes his newspaper down and lifts a big Colt Python
from his lap just as --
A section of sheetrock kicks open and THREE FEDERAL OFFICERS
bust out, each clutching a handgun, SHOUTING inaudibly.
LOUIS:
F.B.I.! Get your face on the f***in'
floor! MOVE!
Carl startled, does an almost effeminate dip down to one
knee, but that knee is swept out from under him, slapping
him flat onto plywood where he is instantly frisked down by
the fence man who is wielding a 9 mm handgun. But the white
collar criminal is more stunned by the fact that --
Ray is walking across the floor with his hands in his pockets
over to the Mr. Coffee. He pours one, and adds some milk.
Turns and watches the bust while opening a packet of Sweet
n'Low.
RAY:
Slam dunk.
LOUIS:
Beauty. Beauty...
Ray rests his weight against the coffee station, takes a
careful sip. Carl is yanked to his feet by the fence man and
he stands there, looking at Ray, baffled. Completely shocked.
CARL:
Jesus Christ, Larry, what the fu--
Larry. That's not even your name, is
it? What's your real name, you f***ing
scumbag?
RAY:
Don't have one, Carl. I have a number,
man. Just like the numbers on those
treasury checks. You stole from your
own country, Carl. Shame on you.
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"Thunderheart" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 18 Apr. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/thunderheart_415>.
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