Blood Simple Page #4

Marty stares down at the photograph.

MARTY:

You know in Greece they cut off the

head of the messenger who brought

bad news.

A smoke ring floats into frame from offscreen.

VISSER:

Now that don't make much sense.

MARTY:

No. It just made them feel better.

Marty rises and goes to a safe behind his desk.

Visser laughs as he watches Marty.

VISSER:

Well first off, Julian, I don't know

what the story is in Greece but in

this state we got very definite laws

about that...

Marty, hunched over the standing safe behind his desk, tosses

in the photograph and takes out a pay envelope.

VISSER:

...Second place I ain't a messenger,

I'm a private investigator. And third

place--and most important--it ain't

such bad news. I mean you thought he

was a colored.

(he laughs)

...You're always assumin' the worst...

Visser blows another smoke ring, pushes a fat finger through

the middle of it, and beams at Marty.

VISSER:

...Anything else?

MARTY:

Yeah, don't come by here any more.

If I need you again I know which

rock to turn over.

Marty scales the pay envelope across the desk. It hits Visser

in the chest and bounces to the floor.

Visser looks stonily down at the envelope; no expression for

a beat. Then he roars with laughter.

VISSER:

That's good... "which rock to turn

over"... that's very good...

Sighing, he leans forward to pick up the envelope. He rises,

straightens his cowboy hat, and walks over to a screen door

letting out on the bar's back parking lot.

VISSER:

Well, gimme a call whenever you wanna

cut off my head...

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