Seven Psychopaths Page #2
on a highway.
No, this guy,
he's got a little bit more integrity.
This serial killer will only kill
mid- to high-ranking members
of the Italian-American
organized crime syndicate.
Or the Yakuza.
- That's a great f***ing psychopath, Billy.
-Do you think?
A serial killer who will only kill
mid- to high-ranking members
of the Italian organized crime syndicate.
Or the Yakuza. Yakuza.
I'll keep with the Mafia,
saves doing Jap dialogue.
Good idea.
That's a great f***ing psychopath, Billy.
Can I keep him?
You can if you let me help write
the movie with you.
You can keep him, Marty,
I'm just kidding you.
The daughter of a Quaker went missing.
And when she was discovered,
the slit in her throat
turned out to be the least
of the damage done to her.
Her killer, whose name shall not be noted,
could not bear
the guilt and the horror, he said,
and a year to the day of her death,
he walked into a police station
and gave himself up.
And though he asked for execution,
the judge gave him life,
and the killer was sent off to Sing Sing
to serve out his sentence.
Seventeen long years went by.
And was sincere about it. He had changed.
And if he had ever been a psychopath,
he was not one anymore.
Many more years went by
and the authorities finally realized
that it wasn't a scam,
that he did truly mean it.
That he had truly repented.
And they decided to set him free.
And he found himself a place to stay
and he determined to live a simple,
joyous life in the years now left to him.
A simple, joyous life
was not what was left to him.
This went on for 11 f***ing years,
till finally the killer went mad.
And one winter night,
while recalling a Catholic tract he'd read,
which stated that
the only people guaranteed a place in Hell
were not murderers, were not rapists,
but were those who had died
by their own hand.
The killer accepted such an idea as beautiful,
for he knew that at least in Hell
the Quaker would not be there.
So he cut his own throat open,
and the last thing that the killer ever saw
was the old man take out
a cut-throat razor of his own,
put it to his throat,
and slice.
Where were you walking him, Sharice?
The La Brea Tar Pits.
Mr. Costello, please don't hurt me.
I promise, I didn't mean to lose Bonny.
I just turned around and he was gone.
If it was a genuine error, Sharice,
if it wasn't your fault and he just run off,
why did you run off,
have us piss away 12 hours
just to find your fat ass'?
You love your dog so much, Mr. Costello,
and you're such an angry-type person,
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"Seven Psychopaths" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 28 Mar. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/seven_psychopaths_17846>.
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