The Paperboy Page #2

Oh, my God.

He's a fine motherf***er that's trying to f***

you. "Ever there was an angel in the world,

"my angel,

it must be you,

but no angel would do the

things I dream that you want. "

Your angel, his angel.

Mm-hm.

That's hot.

He say, "If you truly exist,

I may become a religious man. "

Ah!

"All my life, my heart

has tried to find a place

I cannot name... a home. "

You need to find

yourself a young one.

He'll f*** you

real good.

[laughing]

He says

I'm his home. Hm.

Got a hundred

different men

writing her

from the penitentiary.

That's her man.

Oh, no.

This is my man.

This here's the one.

M m-hm.

(Anita, off) Ward came

home to investigate

the conviction

of Hillary Van Wetter.

The town wasn't

too happy about it

and neither was his papa.

((Yardley) Oh, sh*t. Ugh.

(Yardley)

Ward...

[British accent] there's

a horse in the parking lot.

(Ward, southern accent)

It's our ride home, Yardley.

[laughing]

Uh, where is everybody?

[groaning]

It's Sunday.

People's either at home

or at church.

It's a shithole.

[approaching car]

Hey, man.

Hey, you.

[chuckling]

(Jack)

How you doing?

Jack, meet Yardley Acheman. Hey.

My little brother, Jack.

The swimmer, right?

Yeah, he's our driver now.

Right, good.

Here, let me get these.

That's my typewriter.

You've gotten big, boy.

Just be careful

with the typewriter.

Got all pumped up.

Is that from swimming?

Not anymore.

[thud]

No! No! No!

Yardley's real particular

about his suits

and his typewriter.

Well, it's very expensive.

Yes. Thank you.

[groan]

How do I get in?

Watch your head.

Watch your head.

Don't touch my head. (Ward) Tell

him where you're from, Yardley.

[sigh]

London.

Ah!

When I came here...

from New York,

I was interviewing

for the job...

and I was in advertising in New York

and I mentioned that it was

simply different in New York.

So how'd you get

from New York City

to the metropolis

of Lately, Florida?

[phone ringing]

Jansen residence.

So I came down South and

I interviewed at the paper.

(Anita) W.W., Miss

Roberta's on the phone.

No, no, no.

We don't take phone

calls. (W. W.) Anita...

Who's Miss Roberta?

No calls, Anita.

(W. W.) What part of

London you from, Yardley?

Um, all over London.

Is there a good dry

cleaning here? Excuse me?

[clears throat]

Dry cleaning.

Dry cleaning?

Yes.

You ain't gonna eat that,

are you? (Jack) uh-uh.

How you gonna win those

swimming meets if you don't eat?

I'm retired.

Retired. Jack, you ain't even

tired enough to be retired.

(W. W.) How is it exactly you guys work?

I mean, like that boy

drowned at his initiation?

Well, Yardley's the writer...

And I'd guess you'd say

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes