Charlotte for Ever Page #2

Dolores Haze is wanted.

Distinctive marks: red lips,

brown hair.

will be fifteen soon.

Occupation - A starlet.

Where are you, Dolores,

what magic carpet is flying you away.

Which star are you?

What carriage - moped, motorcycle -

is waiting at your door?

Who are you dancing with, my darling,

in your blue jeans and old shirt,..

I'm watching you out of the

corner of my eye.

Lolita...

She didn't close her grey eyes

when I was kissing her closed lips.

Do you know the "Green sun" perfume?

You're French, I suppose?

It's over Lo, I'm dying

from remorse and hate.

But I'm raising my hairy fist again

and I'm crawling at your feet.

Hey, sergeant! There she is.

Cuts the shine of shop windows

sweeping away by the storm. It's her...

Sergeant, give me my Lolita back.

With her fierce look and softlips.

She weights no more than 90 pounds.

My car broke down.

The last step is the hardest one.

I will die on the side of the road, Lolita.

The rest is literature.

Nabokov.

That's right.

Have you read it?

Stole it from the library.

I've read Miller too.

Tropics. Listen,

baby, it's too early for you.

It's plain porn.

It's never too early

to not be an idiot.

I also got through

Apollinaire's "11 Thousand Virgins".

Prince Vibescu. Countess.

Isn't that cute of you!

Adelaide told me.

She is very interested in sex.

I thought you didn't

see each other anymore.

I see her

when she comes out of here.

Isn't she pretty?

Such tits at her age they'll be hanging

down soon. I give her two years tops.

Did you feel her up or something?

She has no talent for Latin or Greek.

But it's money for us.

But there should be money left from mom.

Yes. Cash.

Dad, you're just an alcoholic,

and I'm not in a rush to become an orphan.

You think I'm a pyromaniac and a murderer.

What can I say?

You were driving the Porsche.

That's it, I'm f***ing done!

Maybe I was driving

but I was sober that day.

That's what you're saying.

I haven't showed you police records

just because it's hyperrealism...

you can't stand it. Take that!

Mom.

Mom.

You crashed into a tank truck! It exploded

because of you!

Admit it if you're not a complete a**hole!

Say it one more time

and I'll send you to boarding school.

Good and I won't see

your ugly face anymore.

Shut up!

Your hand. I'm sorry.

Yes, it's burned.

You understand now? Do you?

I tried to drag mom out of pile

of metal and burned my hand.

You understand?

You don't understand anything, stupid.

Don't call me stupid, damn it.

Give me a kiss.

No, you're not stupid.

You understand now, I don't know.

Well, children, I got to go.

Charlotte, remember,

time heals and washes away your grief.

Stan, you're the man

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes