The Onion Field

Campbell!

- I'm sorry. You wanted me?

- I'm Karl Hettinger, your new partner.

Ian Campbell.

Welcome to the felony squad.

I thought they were woofing me

when they said I could find you here.

I was just bouncing

a few notes off the walls.

If I do it at home,

the neighbors call the cops.

I don't know how you can stand it.

This place gives me the crawlies.

It's like a tomb.

A piper plays where he can.

It's in me blood, you know, laddie.

- Strange music. What's it called?

- Cha Till MacCruimen.

It's an ancient funeral dirge.

And that means,

"MacCrimmon will never return."

- Ian?

- Yeah?

How long have you been

hanging around in cellars?

Talk to anybody about it?

Hey! Youngblood!

Jimmy Youngblood!

- Say, old thing, how you doing?

- Jimmy, my man! When did you get out?

- Yesterday.

- Damn! Ain't that a mother?

Hop on up and let me

have this boy clean some skates.

They could do with some help.

I could do it my own self, if it's okay.

Like they say,

once a shine boy, always a shine boy.

Go ahead, help yourself.

My man, buy yourself a trip to Hawaii.

You look like new money.

Guess your ship came in.

Sure did. Jimmy, meet my partner.

- I'm Greg Powell.

- This is a homeboy, Greg.

Always called him Youngblood.

Everybody on East Sixth Street

got an alias.

- Youngblood your righteous name, Jimmy?

- Good as any, ain't it?

Now, a man's name ain't important.

Being a loyal, standup guy,

that's what's important.

And any friend of Billy's, etc., etc...

Say, Jim...

You know, those kind of look

like jailhouse hot dogs.

You just got out of the slammer,

didn't you?

Seems like everybody in LA

got a thing for shoes these days.

Used to be p*ssy before I went away.

Greg, my man, come on,

let's go do our business.

Jimmy, see you around.

Say, brother, how about loaning me 10 scoots

till I get myself together?

Go see the car wash boss.

He pays minimum wages

to any ex-con who wants a job.

Minimum wage?

I expect more than that

for watching flies f***.

Say, Jim, now,

I just got out 10 months ago, myself.

Paroled from Vacaville.

And I know how you're feeling about now.

- Like, thanks for the loan.

- Hell, Jim, that ain't a loan, it's a gift.

Billy, give him $5 more.

Sh*t, what do I look like,

the Bank of America?

Man, go see the car wash boss.

He pays minimum wages.

- Where you staying, Jimmy?

- A little hotel on Sixth and Wall.

- How you planning to make money, Jim?

- Same way you guys make yours.

See you around, Jimbo.

Catch you later, Greg.

Cornpone, jive-ass, peckerwood.

Think you're gonna like felony, Kars?

It beats wearing a blue suit.

Beats writing traffic tickets.

It might be boring most of the time,

but who knows?

There might be something

right around the corner.

Something?

Not thrills,

but something other folks don't see.

What if it's something

you don't understand?

I don't know.

It doesn't matter, I guess,

just as long as it's something.

To be there is the thing, partner.

Yes, sir?

- You feel like another piece?

- I finally got my weight below 200.

I'll get it for you.

At least you're tall enough to carry it.

Married life's making me feel

like an avocado with feet.

That's just a little excess

adipose tissue.

What were you going to do

before you became a cop?

You'll never guess.

I was a premed student.

I could have guessed.

There you go.

- What did your dad do?

- He was a doctor.

He died when I was a boy.

My mother and I always figured

that I'd become a doctor, too.

College dropouts sure end up

in the strangest jobs.

When I worked vice,

I busted that pig for beating up a whore.

There's a guy that could use a doctor.

Dr. Smith & Wesson,

for a frontal lobotomy.

- A large cheese to go.

- Come back in 20 minutes, okay?

I'm a fellow dropout.

Let me guess. Engineering.

Agriculture, beer, and poker,

not necessarily in that order.

My life's ambition was to own a farm.

Truck crops.

You know, smogless sky, clean earth...

clean people, all that corny stuff.

And acres of dewy, wet...

fat, ripe tomatoes.

- Tomatoes?

- Tomatoes.

Police work's so noisy.

- Tomatoes are so...

- Quiet.

- Yeah.

- Yeah.

Bet you never thought

you'd see me again.

No, like, I meant to look you up.

It's only been two days.

I ain't made a sting yet.

- I'll pay you and Billy back.

- Hell, Jim, I told you, that was a gift.

That ain't why I'm here.

- This sure is a dump, Jimbo.

- Yeah.

It ain't forever.

My parole officer paid for a week.

- By then, I should have...

- Come on, get your clothes on.

- We are going somewhere.

- Yeah?

- I thought I'd go look my old partner...

- I won't take no for an answer.

I got a feeling about you.

I think I can help you

make some real money.

Real money, Jimbo.

Lollipop?

Youngblood, what you doin' here?

- Greg brung me.

- Yeah.

We all don't need nobody else

working with us, you understand?

Jimmy, this here is my little woman.

- Hi, Jimmy.

- You fix us a whiskey and 7-Up?

- Okay, honey?

- Okay, buns.

Honey, buns. Just sit down, Jim.

So, Billy...

My woman says

you took that roll of $1 bills...

I had stashed in the bedroom.

- Bullshit.

- Yes, it's true. She can't find it.

And furthermore, I've been told,

you gave her a pat on the fanny today.

I don't care about the pat.

We're sort of a family here.

I'd appreciate you don't make it a habit.

- Greg, please...

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