In the Electric Mist Page #4

Where'd we get this cannon,

Toys "R" Us?

All right, I'm going to need

floaters in there,

one face down,

two belly-up.

Use some of the fat extras.

They'll look bloated.

My dead horse?

No.

Not on the call sheet?

Terrific.

We need some blood,

blood-soaked ground,

if that's what it says

in the script.

This is not

the nightly news.

They never show the blood.

This is an allegory.

We're not shooting

the fall of Vicksburg.

This is Baghdad 2007.

Copy that.

If people don't

connect the dots, f*** 'em.

There's a Detective Robicheaux

here to see you, sir.

So you're

investigating a crime.

Seen any crime

around here?

Only crime I'm aware of is

the air conditioning in my trailer.

You could fry an egg

on the toilet seat in there.

Then I've got a lead actor

digging up skeletons

in sandbars, exactly what

I need to be thinking about

while I'm shooting a picture.

Mr. Goldman, is Mr. Julius

Balboni producing this film?

Producing?

I must've really f***ed up

in my previous incarnation.

Maybe I sunk the Tltanlc

or assassinated

Archduke Ferdinand.

I am the only producer.

So Mr. Balboni's lying.

Mr. Balboni is investing

some of his money in a motion picture.

Is that illegal?

Congratulations.

You in business with the man

that hung Fulvio Raneri's cousin

up by his colon

on a meat hook.

Do you recognize

this girl,

Cherry LeBlanc?

How you are, Hogman?

Come on up

on the porch.

Grab a chair.

You knew that LeBlanc girl,

didn't you?

I don't like to have nothing

to do with white folks' business,

but it bothers me

what somebody do to that girl.

I spoke to her about two hours

before she left the juke.

She said, "Hogman,

in the next life, me and you

going to get married."

That's what she said.

I said, "Darling, don't let the

men misuse you for no chicken."

She said, "I'm going

to have myself a town house

on Lake Pontchartrain."

Was she mixed up with somebody

from New Orleans?

Probably some white-trash pimp

told her she special,

she pretty.

Instead,

she got herself killed.

You're mixed up with

that skeleton they found

in the Atchafalaya,

ain't you?

How do you know

about that?

When somebody find

a dead black man,

black people

knows about it.

I'm listening.

A blue jay don't sit

on a mockingbird's nest.

The mockingbird will whoop

the blue jay's ass every time.

What are we talking about here,

Sam?

I'm talking

about a black man.

And he was carrying on

with a white woman

who husband

he worked for.

I think them was his bones

you dug in that sandbar.

What was his name?

Who care what's his name?

I think he got

what he asked for.

I say, "Past is past,

and don't be

messing with it."

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