BLACK:

MAN'S VOICE

Looks fuckin' cold out there.

EXT. VESUVIO'S RESTAURANT -- MIAMI DAY

It is cold. People walk by hugging themselves, pulling up

their collars, etc.

INT. VESUVIO'S RESTAURANT -- SAME TIME

CHILI PALMER, late thirties, sits in a booth with TOMMY

CARLO, a low level mob type. Chili smokes a cigarette,

stares out the window at the people on the street.

TOMMY:

Guy on the radio said it's gonna get down to thirty-four.

Chili watches a woman on the sidewalk pause to tighten the

scarf around her neck . . . She looks in the window, sees

Chili looking out.

TOMMY:

Thirty-four -- that's freezing, for Christ sake.

(then)

Yo, Chili, you're spacin'.

Chili turns and studies Tommy a moment, then . . .

CHILI:

They're closing the Granview. You know, theater down on

Biscayne?

TOMMY:

Yeah, the guy owes Momo a few G's.

CHILI:

What I'm thinkin' is maybe Momo could buy it.

Tommy looks at him.

CHILI:

Momo could buy it, I could run it for him. Show some Cagney

films.

TOMMY:

What's Momo gonna want with an old place, shows old movies

people don't care about no more. Outside of maybe turnin' it

into a porno house, I don't think he's gonna give much of a

fuck. And you already got a job.

Chili looks back out the window again.

CHILI:

Yeah.

We hear LAUGHTER O. S. and then FOCUS on the window so that

Chili can now see a GROUP OF MEN reflected there, sitting at

a table nearby. We hear MORE LAUGHTER and now Chili turns

and looks over at . . .

RAY "BONES" BARBONI

Mob guy

tall, loud suit with lots of jewelry. As he gets up from the

table, the other men around the table follow his lead as he

finishes up some jokes . . .

MOB GUY:

. . . so the guy says, I'm not the tailor, I'm the

undertaker.

The men laugh again, more out of respect than appreciation.

Ray Bones turns, sees . . .

CHILI and Tommy sitting in their booth. Tommy, sucking on a

toothpick, waves.

TOMMY:

Ray. How you doing?

RAY BONES:

Okay, Tommy. You?

TOMMY:

Okay.

Bones focuses on Chili, waits for acknowledgement. But Chili

turns back to the window. Always the peacemaker, Tommy

smiles at Bones again . . .

TOMMY:

You believe this weather, Ray? Miami Beach, for Christ's

sake.

RAY BONES:

(ignoring him)

Chili Palmer.

(smiles)

Chilly outside. Chili inside. It's a regular fuckin'

chili-fest. Hey, waiter -- give Mr. Chili Pepper a big

fuckin' bowl of chili!

Again the men all laugh respectfully at Ray Bone's stupid

joke. Chili smiles the best he can at the idiot . . .

CHILI:

Good to see you, Ray.

He turns back to the window, watches Ray Bones in the

reflection, still cracking up as he and his men head for the

front of the restaurant. Tommy looks at Chili for a moment,

then stands up . . .

TOMMY:

You done starin' out the window, I'll see you back at the

office.

Chili nods, but still doesn't turn from the window. He

merely watches in the glass as Tommy turns up his collar and

steps out into the cold Miami day.

TOMMY:

Jesus. It's freezin'!

Chili then puts out the cigarette, nods to the waiter who

comes over with the check.

INT. RESTAURANT COATROOM -- A FEW MINUTES LATER

From inside the tiny room. A couple of ratty rain coats and

an old flight jacket hang to one side in immediate f.g. as

Chili steps into the doorway and freezes. He looks o.s. and

whistles . . .

CHILI:

Hey.

A moment later the MANAGER, an old Italian guy in a black

suit, joins him in the doorway.

CHILI:

What happened to my coat?

The Manager peers into the room . . .

MANAGER:

It's not one of these?

CHILI:

You see a black leather jacket, fingertip length, like the

one Pacino wore in Serpico? You don't, you owe me three

seventy-nine.

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