The Hustler Page #4

MINNESOTA FATS:

You shoot a good stick.

EDDIE:

Thank you. Gee, you shoot straight pool,

mister?

FATS:

Now and then. You know how it is.

EDDIE:

(grinning)

You're, uh, you're Minnesota Fats, aren't you?

You know, uh, they say Minnesota Fats is the best

in the country out where I come from.

FATS:

Is that a fact?

EDDIE:

Yes sir, boy, they, heh, they say that old

Fats just shoots the eyes right off them balls.

FATS:

Where do you come from?

EDDIE:

California. Oakland.

FATS:

California? Is your name Felson? Eddie Felson?

EDDIE:

That's right.

FATS:

I hear you've been looking for me.

EDDIE:

Yeah. That's right, too.

FATS:

Big John! You think this boy is a hustler?

Fats and Eddie regard each other with amusement, sharing the private

joke of pool hustlers.

FATS:

Do you like to gamble, Eddie? Gamble money on

pool games?

EDDIE:

Fats, let's you and I shoot a game of straight

pool.

FATS:

Hundred dollars?

EDDIE:

Well, you shoot big-time pool, Fats. I mean,

that's what everybody says, you shoot big-time

pool. Let's make it two hundred dollars a game.

FATS:

Now I know why they call you Fast Eddie. Eddie,

you talk my kind of talk ...

(moving to the main table)

Sausage! Rack 'em up!

At his command, Ames comes to life. Players drag their chairs across

the floor and position them around the main table. Eddie, hand to his

mouth, realizes that the big moment has arrived and beckons to Charlie

for his leather cue case. The uniformed maids withdraw the cover off

the green felt top, and Sausage, the racker, begins to bang the balls

into the wooden racking triangle.

Fats is in the washroom, scrubbing his hands and nails. Eddie stands

and screws together his inlaid, ivory-pointed cue as Fats dries his

hands. He and Fats eye one another.

CHARLIE:

How do you feel?

EDDIE:

Fast and loose, man.

CHARLIE:

In the gut, I mean.

EDDIE:

I feel tight -- but good.

Henry helps Fats on with his coat. Sausage finishes racking. Fats

carefully extends his palms so that Henry may sprinkle on some talcum

powder. They are ready to start. Fats, immaculate in jacket and tie,

tosses a wad of bills -- his stake money -- onto the table. Charlie

does the same, counting the bills out one by one.

FATS:

(off the cash)

Willie, hang onto that.

Willie takes the money. Two balls are rolled to the end of the table,

and Fats and Eddie, like two duelers, prepare to shoot for the break.

In the silence of the room, they bend over their cues and softly stroke

out their shots. The balls roll down the table, bank off the far

shoulder, and slowly return toward the two players. Fats' ball hits

the closer shoulder.

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