Thunderheart Page #2
- R
- Year:
- 1992
- 119 min
- 1,286 Views
RAY:
You're my hero, Carl.
CARL:
Heroes ain't supposed to shake. I'm
shakin', man, look at me.
RAY:
Breathe, Carl. Four, nice, deep ones.
They stop at the door of a service elevator and Carl breathes.
Expanding his chest, exhaling. Ray adjusts Carl's tie for
him, his collar. He speaks quietly. Quickly.
RAY:
Anyone stops us going in, we're with
the Bowen-Hamilton Textile Company.
We have rug samples.
CARL:
Rug samples.
RAY:
We are one-dimensional, boring
peddlers of fine carpet, Carl.
Carl nods. Ray hesitates, adjusts his own collar and enters
the service elevator. Carl follows. Door closes.
BEGIN CREDITS END.
INT. GRAY BUILDING - FENCING OPERATION
Carl follows Ray into the big sparse room of unfinished
sheetrock walls. There is nothing in here but cardboard boxes,
and two people; a bearded HISPANIC MAN standing behind a
counter, writing on a clipboard. The other is a middle-aged
BLACK MAN in a purple silk shirt sitting in a chair with a
newspaper held open. He barely looks over the top of the
Wall Street Journal.
BLACK MAN:
Hey, look who's here.
RAY:
Louis, my man, what's happenin'?
Ray walks up to the counter. Carl lingers, fidgeting. Ray
sets his briefcase on the counter and click-clicks it open.
The Hispanic fence man looks inside, and begins pulling out
stacks of treasury checks.
FENCE MAN:
Clean ones?
RAY:
Immaculate.
Ray gestures to Carl and he nervously sets his briefcase on
the counter, fumbles with the first latch. The second. He
flips it open.
The fence man casts his eyes down at a neat cache of Grade A
Treasury. A lot of it. Then his eyes rise to Carl.
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"Thunderheart" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 28 Apr. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/thunderheart_415>.
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