Raising Arizona Page #2

ANGRY BLACK CON:

Yeah, but Doc Schwartz is sayin' you

gotta accept responsibilities. I

mean I'm proud to say I got a

family... somewheres.

HIGH ANGLE CELL:

Looking down from the ceiling. In the foreground, lying on

the top bunk, hands clasped behind his head as he stares off

into space is MOSES. Moses is a gnarled, elderly black con

with wire-rimmed spectacles. On the lower bunk, also with

hands clasped behind his head and staring off at the same

spot in space, is Hi.

VOICE OVER:

I tried to sort through what the Doc

had said, but prison ain't the easiest

place to think.

MOSES:

An' when they was no meat we ate

fowl. An' when they was no fowl we

ate crawdad. An' when they was no

crawdad to be foun', we ate San'.

HI:

You ate what?

MOSES:

(nodding)

We ate San'.

HI:

You ate sand?!

MOSES:

Dass right...

PAROLE BOARD ROOM

Hi faces the same three PAROLE OFFICERS across the same table.

CHAIRMAN:

Well Boy, you done served your twenty

munce, and seeing as you never use

live ammo, we got no choice but to

return you to society.

SECOND MAN:

These doors goan swing wide.

HI:

I didn't want to hurt anyone, Sir.

SECOND MAN:

Hi, we respect that.

CHAIRMAN:

But you're just hurtin' yourself

with this rambunctious behavior.

HI:

I know that, sir.

CHAIRMAN:

Okay then.

HIGH SHOT:

Of a 7-Eleven parking lot, at night, deserted except for

Hi's car which sits untended, its engine rumbling.

VOICE OVER:

Now I don't know how you come down

on the incarceration question...

Hi backpedals into frame with a shotgun and a bag of cash.

VOICE OVER:

...whether it's for rehabilitation

or revenge.

He spins and grabs his car-door handle. Locked. He tries the

back door. Locked.

VOICE OVER:

...But I was beginning to think...

As we hear the wail of an approaching siren, Hi takes it on

the heel and toe.

VOICE OVER:

...that revenge is the only argument

makes any sense.

FLASH:

On Hi against the mug-shot wall.

ED:

Turn to the right!

SHERIFF (O.S.)

Don't forget his latents, Ed!

CLOSE ON HI'S HAND

We see his right hand being efficiently manipulated by Ed's

two hands:
She is rolling each of his inked fingers into the

appropriate space on an exemplar sheet.

HI (O.S.)

Hear about the paddy-wagon collided

with the segment mixer, Ed? Twelve

hardened criminals escaped.

Ed's hand lingers on top of his. Hi's other hand enters to

rest on top of hers.

HI (O.S.)

Got a new beau?

ED (O.S.)

No, Hi, I sure don't.

Hi slips a ring off his own finger and slides it onto Ed's.

HI (O.S.)

Don't worry, I paid for it.

LOW ANGLE CELL BLOCK CORRIDOR

The surly Mopping Con has now worked his way up to the

foreground.

Hi is being escorted past him to his cell.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes