garbage. change the channel.
i'm going to bed. vitti stands up and heads back to his cell.
what's goin' on, earl?
why?
yeah. take it easy. he notices something in the box.
hey, earl. is that my after-shave?
that's okay. keep it. go ahead.
guess who, you fuck! intercut with:
not a good time? let me explain something to you. i'm in fucking hell right now. this is not a good time.
so what does that have to do with me?
don't hang up on, sobel! they're tryin' to kill me!
he stands there for a long beat just staring, the dial tone buzzing in his ear. cut to:
'when you're a jet, you're a jet all the way, from your first cigarette to your last dyin' day' prisoners and guards stare at him like he's nuts. coyote stabs at him again, but vitti dodges and smashes him over the head with the tray.
'when you're a jet, if the shit hits the fan, you got brothers around, you're a family man'
'i like to be in america, okay by me in america' the guards drag him down and cuff his hands behind him, then carry him out stiff as a board.
'tonight, tonight, won't be just any night -- ' dissolve to:
'i feel pretty, oh, so pretty, i feel pretty and witty and bright'
'who's the pretty girl in the mirror
tony?
the rumble -- it's tonight! i have to get out of here. i don't want to die. no, chino, no! vitti's jaw suddenly goes slack and he slumps in his seat, staring forward.
'boy, boy, crazy boy, keep cool, boy! got a rocket in your pocket, keep cool-y cool boy -- ' cut to:
mommy's mad at me because i made a boom on the rug.
i see you. i see him. i see a table.
it looks like snow.
a bat. a big bat. or a weasel.
and he's got a little girl -- no, it's a little boy -- in his teeth -- and he's shakin' him and shakin' him 'cause the kid didn't wipe himself good -- and the kid is screaming because the bat-weasel ripped out his throat and the blood is shootin' out of his neck vein. that's the blood. doctor cutler looks worried.
just the pussy with the teeth.
blue. cut to:
this is a picture of a guy -- nice, hardworking guy -- comes home and finds out his wife's been screwin' this midget while he was out of town.
i think he works over the midget for a while, then he blows 'em away.
trick question, right? both of 'em. cut to:
yes.
i did. i said 'yes.'
-- whenever.
you fucking son-of-a-bitch! where the fuck do you get off sticking me with a needle?
took you long enough. i was singin' west side story for three fuckin' days. i'm half a fag already.
i call you to say somebody's trying to kill me and you hang up on me?
you're my fuckin' doctor!
me me me me! he's dead! get over it.
i'm deeply sorry for your loss.
what's the difference? you hated him anyway.
i'm not sensing it, but if you say so. ben nervously pops a pill and swallows it.
what's that?
i don't know -- take your pick. could be my old family, or could be the rigazzis. ever heard of lou rigazzi - - lou 'the wrench'?
because he twisted a guy's head off once.
off. fuckin' calabrese -- animals. and comin' from me you know that's a big compliment.
the feds are really putting the pressure on. the families are fighting each other again -- what's left of 'em. it's the fall of the fuckin' roman empire. it's world war three out there.
they knew i was gettin' out soon and the last thing anybody wants to see is me getting into it on either side.
yeah, they'll probably want to throw me a party and give me a gold watch. trust me -- nobody's lookin' forward to me being out.
me? oh, yeah, my future looks real fuckin' rosy. ben can't believe what he's gotten himself into. cut to:
i'm not gonna be here that long. jelly's pickin' me up in an hour.
don't worry about it. i'll call you tomorrow.
what are you, my father now?
i'm comin'. some fuckin' life this is gonna be. he follows ben up the stairs. cut to:
coffee?
somebody said something about coffee.
so what's the holdup?
i understand. she's uncomfortable. the whole situation's a little awkward with me bein' here -- but let's face it, emily fuckin' post she's not.
listen, i got a friend coming over. i didn't want you to be surprised.
not that kind of friend. it's a personal thing.
are you really that pussy-whipped?
i heard her busting your balls.
or?
or you're pussy-whipped.
good night, whippy.
oh, really? i didn't hear you the tenth fuckin' time. he exits. cut to:
what?
so let him get his own fuckin' girl.
actually, i'm right in the middle of someone. sheila starts to light a cigarette.
minding my own fuckin' business, like you should be doin'.
i've been in prison for two and a half years. what am i supposed to do?
that's what i wanted to do, but you told me i had no choice -- it was either here or sing sing.
yeah, that's what i've been jerkin' off about for eight hundred consecutive nights -- a nice home- cooked meal. ohhhh, tuna casserole.
i think you're jealous.
i didn't hear nothin' comin' out of your room.
hey, if you're really quiet, you might be able to do it without even wakin' up your wife.
i told her if i wasn't back in two minutes to start without me. i gotta go. vitti heads back upstairs.
go ahead! get out of here, you crazy fuckin' whore. vitti charges into the room, his robe open. from the reactions of everyone in the room, it's clear he's not wearing anything under it.
go back to turning tricks in jersey for all i fuckin' care. sheila exits and slams the front door. vitti sees everyone staring at him. he closes his robe.
how's it goin'? oh, we got food. good. vitti heads for the buffet.
oh, great. jew food. who do you have to fuck to get some bacon around here? the woman reacts in horror.
not you, i'm guessing.
what is it with your relatives? they tend to overreact quite a bit.
so? from the look of 'em, some of those broads haven't seen the old salcicc' in a long time. it's good for them.
what do you mean?
first i'm gonna find out who's tryin' to kill me. i'm a target. somebody could shoot right through that window -- blow my fuckin' head off. ben sees that he's in the line of fire, gets up and moves out of the way.
yeah. i'm too big for a jockey so i was thinkin' maybe a hairdresser. they'll call me mr. paul.
i like hitting a guy on the head with a baseball bat.
shylocking, bookmaking, unions, the usual --
who am i? i'm the guy who's paying you $150 an hour to play these stupid fuckin' games. you know who i am.
what do you mean, 'what am i?'
you're making me very fuckin' nervous.
i'm the boss.
you, you're good. i see what you're doing here.
you're pissing me off is what you're doing. look at me. it's starting again, the anxiety.
i don't know. who remembers that stuff?
no.
no.
no.
yeah, maybe. what did you want to be?
i am.
you wanted to look up people's assholes all day?
you must've been a lot of laughs when you were a kid. lonely, huh?
it's stupid.
yeah, i'm afraid.
okay. when i was really little -- like seven or eight -- maybe i wanted to be a cowboy.
yeah. my father gave me a cowboy suit -- you know, the vest, the chaps, the cap guns -- the whole thing. and he used to take me up to my uncle's farm in new jersey and lead me around on this pony. yippee-i-o. you happy now?
everybody. the whole family. my father loved 'gunsmoke.'
marshal dillon.
this is so fuckin' retarded.
all right. gene autry, roy rogers, the lone ranger --
yeah, i guess.
yeah, so?
i don't know. nothing happened.
i lived in east harlem! i joined a street gang when i was 12 and that was it.
what?
the dodgers moved from brooklyn to l.a. everybody took it pretty hard.
we playin' a guessing game here?
do i remember? i think about it every fuckin' day of my life. what's that got to do with it?
yeah. he did.
he always said he wanted me to go to college. i didn't even finish high school. he really starts sobbing now.
okay. okay. that's enough of that shit.
yeah, just sprinkle some fuckin' fairy dust on me.
you mean working for somebody? i'm supposed to take orders from some guy who used to get me coffee? (starts sweating and
i got stuff to do.
calm down. i'll be back.
oh, yeah? watch me. drive, jelly.
stop sweating, doc. i'll be back. vitti puts the window up.
no, i'm okay. it was an act. i had to pretend i was nuts. there were people watching me all the time.
doctors. they never woulda let me out if they thought i was normal.
you want to see crazy? just tell me who's trying to kill me. i'll show you crazy.
i can't do it, sal. i'm out of it.
sal, even if i wanted to -- the feds
i know.
yeah, i do too.
yeah, okay, i'll think about it.
i can't, sal. i gotta go talk to the boss.
'yeah, what?' that's how you answer the door?
yeah. vitti punches eddie in the mouth, sending him sprawling back into the living room. several other bodyguards are watching television, caught off guard by vitti's sudden entrance.
where is she?
how's it goin', patty?
sorry to hear about carmine. he was a good man.
i'll bet -- especially with all the talk about you being the one who put him there.
yeah, i'm sure you're very busy.
you even go near them, you crazy bitch
yeah, i been workin' out who's trying
so then you didn't have nothin' to do with it.
thanks. i gotta see a guy about a business thing.
no, this is a legitimate business.
i just want to be left alone. put my life back together -- straight up this time. put the word out, will ya? nobody's got nothin' to worry about from me.
look at the size of that trunk. you could fit three people in there. not people -- suitcases. it's a joke.
so what are you driving now? mr. macinerny we have a lexus.
it's a fancy toyota, right? the japs make good cars, but i ain't that quick to forget pearl harbor. the macinernys look doubtful. cut to:
mario, put mr. torre at table five. joey boots, an old acquaintance of vitti's, enters with a couple of his cronies.
hey, joey.
yeah.
nah -- not really. it's like -- i'm on parole, so i just -- i come in, i greet people.
you want more bread? he takes a small loaf from the breadbasket on the next table, stuffs it into the businessman's mouth and walks off.
i'll get your drinks now.
fluorescent light. makes everything look yellow. he starts instinctively casing the store. quick cut to:
what am i -- edison? i'm telling you, it's a 'g.' he glances at the surveillance cameras.
what?
i'm gonna do us both a big favor. i quit. cut back to:
you want to see the manager? here's the manager. now take a hike, you fuckin' deadbeats. the macinernys rush out of the showroom.
get a hyundai! cut to:
i can't deal with this shit. my grades suck, i'm gettin' in fights every day, and if i get suspended again my mother's gonna fuckin' kill me -- if the nuns don't kill me first.
what? vitti's mother is sitting next to him.
ma? what are you doin' here?
leaps to his feet and reaches for his gun, but instead pulls out a long sword. confused but desperate, he holds up the sword to menace the intruders, but the sword suddenly goes limp. he tries to make the blade stand up, but it just keeps dropping like a piece of soft rope. patty, eddie, and the thugs laugh contemptuously at vitti, while jelly looks on with an incredible stream of tears pouring from his eyes.
really? do me a favor, honey -- make me a sandwich.
coulda had that sandwich made by now.
okay.
hey! me, too.
ham, cheese, lettuce, tomato, mayonnaise, no onion.
where am i going? the orphanage found my real parents. they want me back. put those in the car. i'm goin' to jelly's. jelly carries the luggage to his car parked in the driveway.
for what? the more we talk the worse i get. i had that dream again.
no, the other one.
so don't!
i know what you're thinkin'. the sword is my cock and i can't get it up, but that ain't it. i saw sheila last night and i had a hard-on you could swing from.
you coulda hung wet towels on it.
wait in the car! so what does it mean? ben sits on the wicker divan.
doc -- nothing's gonna fit. that nine-to-five bullshit -- i'll fuckin' kill myself if i have to do that for the rest of my life. you know they take taxes out of your check? what the fuck is that? i'm doomed. i'm gonna end up selling hot dogs on the street. look at me. i'm havin' a fuckin' panic attack here. my heart's beatin' like a rabbit.
this is your fault.
tellin' me i have to get a job like i'm some fuckin' nobody. it was humiliating! thanks a lot.
what the hell was that?
now what are you takin'?
yeah, i know it.
for what?
no. we gettin' any real food? this is like eatin' fuckin' bait. raoul chuckles and glances uncomfortably at his girlfriend. ben laughs loudly to cover the awkward moment. he's suffering from some reaction between the pills and the booze and he's oddly thick-lipped.
why you talkin' like that?
like a fuckin' retard.
you wanna shut the fuck up?
don't admire me too much.
in two seconds i'm gonna put a fork in your eye.
yeah, sure, whatever.
that's her claim to fame. i hate to bust your bubble, but he's not from bensonhurst. he's a professional italian. he grew up in connecticut or something like that.
what's the matter with you? we got women at the table.
that's different. it's colorful.
so. i see in the paper where oklahoma! might win the tony award.
down!!! he grabs sheila and pulls her down as gunfire rakes the wall behind them. everybody else at the table hits the floor. other diners scream in terror. jelly pulls a gun and shoots back.
i think somebody's got it in for raoul.
i'm gonna ask you once nicely. who you working for?
fuck me? fine. jelly? jelly shoves the guy to the parapet at the edge of the roof, grabs him by the legs and hangs him over the side of the building. the guy screams.
i'll ask you again. who you working for? the guy keeps screaming.
who are you working for?
drop him, jelly.
pull him back up.
what's the matter with you?
i said pull him back up.
you heard what you wanted to hear.
yeah, this is real authentic.
i know who he is. they used to watch the show up at sing sing.
mate? i don't believe this! you're an english guy? you ain't even italian.
down under what?
i wouldn't wet my pants over it. they watch 'supermarket sweep,' too. raoul laughs hard.
you laugh too much.
yeah. you got a good setup here.
coupla things, though. i don't know who makes these decisions, but some of this, it don't look right.
the people mainly. i mean, you got a boss who speaks australian. what the fuck is that? and i'm guessing your
yeah, the theater. so how about if i bring in some guys that i know -- you know, more 'authentic.'
yeah. one of those trailers like the stars have.
no fuckin' way. i've had it with this job bullshit. a week of this and i'd either shoot myself or shoot raoul. but it's good cover while i figure out my next move. call the guys.
yeah, ten minutes, tell 'em. eddie devol, patty lopresti's guy, watches vitti from a safe distance. cut to:
we're gonna need a grapple or a crane with maybe a fifty-foot boom.
see what you can come up with. and we're gonna need a city bus.
how you doin', patty.
one of rigazzi's guys took a shot at me. she stops at the extras' makeup table and starts primping in the mirror.
yeah, i know. when you're a jet, you're a jet all the way.
nothing's going on. they're actors.
okay. something big is going down, but you're getting a cut. my hand to god.
i don't think so.
whatever. raoul approaches and eyes patty disdainfully.
raoul, this is a friend of mine. patty lopresti. raoul freezes, recognizing the name.
no, you're fine. but you might want to have somebody else start your car the next couple of weeks.
this is lou rigazzi.
this way. cut to:
is that right?
me? no.
thanks. i'll sleep much better.
i don't think so.
hey, doc. what are you doing here?
patty who?
who says i'm lying? i finally get a straight job and start putting my life in order and you come in here and start accusing me! that's how much you trust me?
this is what's so hard about being an ex-con. you make one little mistake in your life and people never let you forget it.
wait a second. say that again.
'i want the truth.' say it -- like you did just now.
no, strong, like before.
yeah, that's good!
no, i'm serious. that had power. i believed it. you could be an actor.
hey, you're as good as most of the bums i see around here. they have this part. you could do it.
of course. i'm gonna talk to raoul.
no, this part you could do. it's perfect. believe me. cut to:
oh, yeah. that sounds real. cut to:
hey, if you didn't want to do it, why didn't you say something?
come on -- you were great.
what, are you self-medicating again? and don't give that decongestant multi-vitamin bullshit.
i'm gonna say that's none of his fuckin' business.
you recognize that car?
the one that's been following us the last mile and a half. ben jerks his head around to look and sees a black mercedes behind him.
lose 'em.
no, they're two cars back. you gotta be a little more observant, doc. turn left. ben executes a hard, skidding left. the benz stays right with him.
broad daylight's the best time. you can see better. take a right. now!
move over. i'll drive.
backseat. now! ben tries to launch himself into the backseat but is stopped by his seat belt.
hang on.
what the fuck are you doing?
throw it! bent throws the paper out the window.
yeah, that's james bond and the 'sea hunt' guy in there, so they got a pretty good shot. they hear police sirens approaching. vitti starts walking away quickly. ben follows after him.
i gotta take care of something.
send my regrets.
so long, doc. vitti takes off running, ducking behind the rows of parked cars.
i don't have a lot of time. they're probably gonna come lookin' for me, so we'll go over everything later, okay?
look, i'm not happy about it, but if it keeps patty off my back, so be it. they're meeting us at the club. let's head out. not all at once. i gotta tell you everything? a production assistant knocks and sticks her head in the door.
no, i gotta go.
i'll talk to him tomorrow. he hands the p.a. some money.
here -- tell him you couldn't find me. vitti exits. the p.a. looks at the money. cut to:
can't really talk right now, mate. headin' out.
try kickin' something. let me know how it works out. vitti starts for the door.
i don't know. you could kick a guy in the face.
just some guy! you knock him down, give him a couple quick kicks in the head while he's on the ground.
why not? because he's there and you're pissed off.
maybe once or twice. look, i got people waiting.
i don't know. you could yell real loud?
or keep your fuckin' mouth shut! who gives a shit what you do, for cryin' out loud? tony bella likes something about vitti's inflection.
what are you doin'?
okay, you can cut that shit out right now.
hey, i'm serious, asshole!
what are you doing here?
what's it look like? we're just blowin' off a little steam. what's the big deal?
al pacino? that's your real name?
anybody ever call you carol burnett?
'cause you look about as much like carol burnett as you look like al pacino. ben laughs. al pacino glares at him.
you better get out of here.
don't make me hurt you. get the fuck out of here. he walks away leaving ben frozen. ben watches as they disappear through a door leading to the back of the club. he starts toward the door. cut to:
okay, this is big and we only get one shot at it; and there's only about a million ways this fuckin' thing can go bad, so listen up. vitti pulls a street map to the center of the table and taps a spot downtown.
the federal gold depository in lower manhattan. three times a year a shipment of gold bars goes in a heavily-guarded armored truck from the depository to the vault at the federal reserve to hold for foreign governments that trade in bullion. at three o'clock in the morning -- eight hours from now --we're gonna hijack that truck. cut to:
what are you doing?
get your fuckin' hands off him! he's with me.
he's in. he's my responsibility.
okay -- everybody listen up.
check the bus. jelly exits.
if we can, i'm gonna get you out before the real shit goes down. just don't flip out on me, okay?
you said it yourself. it's my nature.
what are you, fucking jiminy cricket? i don't know what planet you live on, but here on earth it's 'might makes right.' read the papers. the guys with the guns make the rules.
enough. say one more word about my father and i'll break your fuckin' head.
i have five to three. they should start movin' any minute.
let's see your watch.
he can hear the convoy passing outside the wall.
sees the signal.
go! cut to:
let's go. he strides off to take charge. ben pulls down his mask and hurries after him, but runs right into a pole.
totally in charge, he strides up to the armored truck just as his men finish cutting through the steel plate doors. vitti yanks the doors open.  vitti and ben stare in awe at the exposed contents of the truck -- a fortune in gold bars.
get the ramp! eddie and his guys run up with a long, narrow track with metal rollers and set it up at the rear of the gold truck.
forty bars. that's all we need.
$350 an ounce, 16 ounces in a pound, 90 pounds in each bar -- do the math.
yeah?
don't do this. vitti drags him off toward the building structure.
calm down.
you're not gonna die!
for chrissake, get hold of yourself!
yeah. feel better now?
you were good. it isn't your fault.
would you just shut up about your father!
he was an asshole -- you said it yourself. what are you grieving for?
jeez, i'm sorry.
we don't have time for this.
i'm warning you -- don't do this --
there i go. you happy now? you see what you're doing here? both men are crying now.
i loved him, too. i did.
i had my hopes.
that's what patty thought, too. this scumbag's been playin' both sides against the middle.
yeah, what?
i felt worse.
those are my choices? what happened to lying on a beach in costa rica for the next twenty years? you can't let me enjoy this for five fuckin' minutes?
and then what? i'll show you. cut to:
not so good.
yeah, i know.
i told you -- i just want to be left
can't do that.
yeah.
what kind of question is that? she's cool. she's just happy to have 'the wrench' out of the way.
did he grab your balls?
i'm gonna go to ohio -- get marie and the kids -- then we'll probably disappear for awhile -- figure out all
yeah, you, too. you hung in there. that took a lot of guts.
no, you were like an animal back there.
no. i'm telling you. you're a monster. i saw the beast in you.
handle yourself? you were fuckin' john wayne.
yeah, i could tell. you're good, you.
paul, i just --
no. you are good. you got a gift, my friend. ben gives up.
so -- happy ending, huh?
are you kidding? i feel like shit. all that work for nothing. 20 million bucks.
take it easy, doc.
hey, doc! 'there's a place for us -- '