Punisher: War Zone

First and 10 on the New York 32.

Malone hands off for a one-yard gain.

Can't establish their running game

because Washington...

- God will help you.

- God owes me a quarter pound.

Mince and mash the garlic into a paste.

- I seek...

- Go, Buster, go!

- reputed crime boss Gaitano Cesare...

... once again avoided prison when

a mistrial was declared today...

... in his eight-week long

RICO prosecution.

Allegedly responsible

for over 200 murders...

... Cesare has yet to spend one day

behind bars.

Mr. Eugene Gordlock...

... a witness who repeatedly asked

the judge to be recused from the case...

... was gunned down

just a few hours earlier.

We had the opportunity to speak

with Mr. Gordlock's mother.

They shot him right in our front yard.

My dear, sweet little boy.

The pained words

of a grieving woman...

... left all alone in a city outraged

by these developments.

But with no concrete evidence

of tampering...

... and with Mr. Gordlock

now dead...

Do I fix your makeup for you?

- What?

- Here's Billy the Beaut.

The captain should have sent me

out here with 30, 40 men...

...to raze this bloody get-out-of-jail party.

Instead, I'm stuck here with you.

Well, he might come out tonight.

As a matter of fact,

I'm sure he'll show up.

And what are you gonna do?

I'm gonna bring him in.

You know, you kill me, Soap. Let's just

say if you can make this happen...

...why would you?

He does to those bastards...

...what me and you

can only fantasize about.

Ink, keep your nose clean.

Yeah.

Sure thing, Pops.

Hey.

Look, you know, it's just...

- Take it easy in there, okay?

- Nicky, what am I gonna do?

Give the old guy a heart attack?

- Go on, beat it.

- Give me uno minuto.

You handled

the witness situation perfectly.

No sweat, Uncle G.

- You look great.

- The hell I do.

I sh*t in a bag, for chrissake.

Hey, saves you a trip to the can, right?

You came to discuss a private matter.

Down at the docks!

Right. Yeah. Cristu Bulat.

I hear he's a sick f***.

Fresh off the boat.

Cristu's bringing in a shipment

and he needs a safe port.

I've arranged for my customs guy

Simmons to be on that night.

The union boys'll be there to unload.

Our cut's 10 mil.

- We won't break a sweat.

- Ten mil?

- F***'s Cristu shipping?

- I don't know.

It's some kind of biological package.

A biological package.

I f***ing knew it.

Probably going up to the ragheads

in Queens.

- Cristu guaranteed it's leaving the city.

- We don't touch that kind of sh*t.

In case your memory's going

with your bodily functions...

...you might remember

I'm the top earner here.

- I'm not stupid.

- Stupid?

You're as shithouse crazy

as your brother, Loony Bin Jim.

I should have had the both of you

locked away.

One more word

about my brother, I swear to Christ I'll...

You'll what?

You make one move, you greasy f***.

Hey, let's just all calm down here,

okay?

I've put out a big spread out here.

So come on, boys, eat up.

We're not eating with the old shitbag,

understand?

Pittsy, pour me a drink.

What the f***?

Pittsy!

Let's go.

All right, let's split up.

Shouldn't we wait for backup?

Police! Freeze!

Listen, Billy Russoti's getting away.

Silver Rover.

You might wanna head down

to the docks first.

Sh*t, that hurts.

- What happened to you?

- Your Punisher.

He disarmed me, held me at gunpoint

then he stole our damn ride.

- Where were you, huh?

- I knew he would come.

Hey, let me get your statement.

Come on, Saffiotti, tell me everything...

How did it go down, huh?

I'm sorry about your family, Billy.

- Well, maybe it's a blessing in disguise.

- What?

It was time for me to take over anyway.

Thanks to The Punisher,

I don't even get my f***ing hands dirty.

Where's your boss, then?

- What the f***'s he doing here?

- Relax. I asked him to come.

My man. How are you doing?

- Who the f*** are these finooks?

- These are couple of my colleagues.

They are very, very gifted delivery men.

No mountain too high,

no river too deep.

All right, all right, all right, enough.

- Pittsy, get me some money.

- Time to go to work.

We're running low, boss.

We picked up 200K

from the Lucciano construction site.

I had to launder it through the Pussycat

Lounge. Like you told me, remember?

Well, bring it back tomorrow.

- You got it, boss.

- Here.

That's 20 rolls of hundreds,

that's a grand each. All counted.

Head for the port, do your thing...

... get over the security fence,

hand out the money.

Where are you going?

Would it be all right

if I take the roof instead of the door?

- Whatever.

- You're a f***ing saint.

Hey, what's the matter?

Oh, f***.

What the f*** was that?

Agent down. Repeat, agent down.

F***.

I'll check it out, boss.

- Pops!

- I'll take care of it. You get the guards.

Pittsy!

F***, you bastard. F***.

F*** you, Castle!

Come on, Castle!

F*** you, man!

F*** you, Castle, you f***ing...

F*** you, Castle! F***!

My f***ing face!

Pittsy! Pittsy! Pittsy!

F***, my f***ing face!

F***! Pittsy! Pittsy! Pittsy!

There he is!

Move! Move! Move!

Up there!

Move!

Up there!

F***!

Up there!

- FBI. Drop your weapons.

- Oh, sh*t. Sh*t.

You two, up the stairs.

Team 1, on me.

Don't move!

FBI! Put your weapons down.

We got a live one!

Take care of those

five yards in every direction.

Billy the Beaut.

Yo, you say Billy the Beaut?

- Not anymore, huh?

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes