Mobsters Page #6

As he uses a choke hold around Lansky's neck. Meyer's legs

kick listlessly as life drains out of his body. Suddenly

Shane's head JERKS BACK and his mouth widens in a silent

scream.

CHARLIE PULLS A KNIFE FROM SHANE'S BACK

with a violent twist, drops it into the void, and grabs

Lansky.

CHARLIE GASPS FOR BREATH

and Lansky throws up water as they surface in the middle of

melee. Shane's body surfaces beside them. The fighting quickly

dies out, and everyone falls silent. Then, as if a starter's

gun had sounded, everyone swims like hell for the pier.

AS THE OTHERS DISAPPEAR INTO THE NIGHT

Siegel, Costello, and Luciano lift the comatose Lansky up

onto the pier. Lansky regains consciousness, kicking his

legs and flailing his arms. The guys struggle to hold on to

Meyer, to little avail. Exasperated, they toss him back into

the water.

LANSKY SURFACES IN THE RIVER

Cursing and sputtering as he comes to. As Meyer climbs up

onto the pier, Bugsy breaks out laughing. Charlie and Frank

join in. Mad as a wet cat, Meyer goes nose to nose with

Charlie.

LANSKY:

I THOUGHT I TOLD YA TA KEEP YOUR

F***IN' DAGO PROTECTION!

Bugsy, Charlie, and Frank exchange a look, then, as one,

push Lansky backwards off the pier.

CUT TO:

INT:
WAREHOUSE BASEMENT - DAY

Charlie, Frank, and Bugsy are draped over sacks of flour, in

a tiny brick-walled hideout. Their bodies glisten with sweat

as they stew in their boredom. Bugsy stirs from his stupor.

SIEGEL:

How much longer we gotta be shut up

in this f***in' sweatbox?

FRANK:

Long as Charlie says.

CHARLIE:

When the stiff's an Irish, the cops

take it kinda personal.

SIEGEL:

Can't we get a couple whores over?

Contemptuous, Frank holds up his little finger and wiggles

it.

FRANK:

You ain't even a man yet.

SIEGEL:

That ain't what your mama said.

Frank leaps up.

FRANK:

You slimy f***in' kike!

Bugsy regards Frank cooly, fondling his own crotch.

SIEGEL:

Until I met her, I thought Catholics

didn't eat meat on Friday.

Frank knocks Bugsy off his perch, and they roll to the floor,

punching and kicking. Charlie doesn't stir from his spot.

CHARLIE:

(emphatic)

ENOUGH!

Frank and Bugsy back off, continuing to stare each other

down.

CHARLIE:

Just like the f***in' slammer. Lock

guys up in a room together an'

everybody goes fruity.

Frank slumps back across his flour sack, still shooting Bugsy

the evil eye. There are three quick KNOCKS at the window.

MEYER LANSKY:

hands a pot through the window to Bugsy and climbs down into

the room. Bugsy doles the contents out into bowls.

FRANK:

Where'd ya get this funny ravioli?

SIEGEL:

Ya ignorant Guinea, it's kreplach.

Charlie bites into a piece. Nods approvingly to Meyer.

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