Owen Wilson - Bottle Rocket Scene 7 lyrics

[EXT. ALLEY. DAY] [Dignan gets out of the car.] DIGNAN: Anthony! [Anthony looks back. He stops running.] DIGNAN: Wait up. [Dignan jogs down the alley. He stops a few feet away from Anthony.] DIGNAN: Where you going? [Anthony points down the alley.] ANTHONY: Just walking Hector. [Dignan looks down the alley. He looks at Anthony. Pause.] ANTHONY: When'd you get back? DIGNAN: Ah. Couple days ago. [Pause.] DIGNAN *under his breath*: You want to shake hands. [Anthony puts his hand out. They shake. Pause. Anthony looks down the alley.] ANTHONY: Who's in the car? DIGNAN: That's Applejack. You want to meet him? ANTHONY: Sure. [They walk to the car.] DIGNAN: This is Applejack. [They shake.] ANTHONY: Nice to meet you, Applejack. APPLEJACK: You're Anthony? ANTHONY: Yeah. APPLEJACK: I hear you're a good thief. [Anthony shrugs and smiles. He nods.] [EXT. HAMBURGER PLACE. DAY] [A hamburger place with no other customers. Anthony, Dignan, and Applejack are sitting at an outdoor table. It's cold and their jackets are zipped up tight.] APPLEJACK: I'm just sitting at this bar drinking my drink when this fine chick walks by. She was a living doll. And the big motherf**er who came in with her sees me looking, when he walks by he steps on my foot. Doesn't say sh**. Just takes a seat with his lady. Well, I holler out to him, If I was as big as you, ain't no way in the hell you'd of stepped on my foot like that. He just laughed. He says, Little man, take your foot and put it in your pocket. I said, No, how about I take my foot and I stick it up your a**? Man, we went to war right there. I hit him so hard I knocked his nuts in his watchpocket. But this motherf**er wouldn't go down. Then all the sudden, out of nowhere, Dignan came up behind him and smashed a bottle on his head. And that big old boy went down. That's how I met Dignan. Good cat to have on your side. He'll go to war with you. He don't give a f**. [Applelack and Dignan slap hands.] DIGNAN: Applejack would of got him anyway. This was just the quicker war. ANTHONY: You really hit a guy with a bottle? [Dignan takes a little notebook out of his pocket.] DIGNAN: Pretty much. He kind of fell into me. But wait a second. [Dignan opens the notebook on the table.] DIGNAN: I want you to look at this. ANTHONY: What is it? DIGNAN: It's big, Anthony. Real big. It's called Hinckley Cold Storage. ANTHONY: What's Hinckley Cold Storage? [EXT. HINCKLEY COLD STORAGE. DAY] [Anthony, Dignan, and Applejack are standing in front of a ma**ive structure with ladders and towers and huge doors. Applejack's car is parked behind them. There are trucks lined up along the loading docks. A big sign says Hinckley Cold Storage.] DIGNAN: Mr. Henry has an inside source. We call him Steve. That's where we get our information. ANTHONY: Who's Mr. Henry? DIGNAN: You'll meet him this afternoon. He's helping us set it up. APPLEJACK: Did you ever hear of the S. Cooper Trust robbery? ANTHONY *shakes his head*: Uh-uh. APPLEJACK: S. Cooper Trust,in San Francisco? ANTHONY: Uh-uh. DIGNAN: Mr. Henry pulled that job in 1965. It's famous. Applejack was the wheel man. Did you use this same car, Applejack? APPLEJACK: Hell, no. This is a '72. I was driving a '63 Pontiac. ANTHONY: What exactly is this place? Freezers? DIGNAN: Right. Freezers. Imported foods. [Anthony stares at Hitckley Cold Storage.] APPLEJACK: Let's go, Abdul-Shabazz. ANTHONY: Abdul-Shabazz? DIGNAN: Just a nickname. [EXT. WAREHOUSE. DAY] [Anthony, Dignan, and Applejack are standing on the sidewalk at the front door of an old warehouse. Dignan knocks on the door, then tries the bell. They all wait.] ANTHONY: What time did he say to be here? DIGNAN: Right now. [Dignan looks in the window. He tries the door. It's locked.] APPLEJACK: I can knock a man out with a six inch punch. ANTHONY: What do you mean? APPLEJACK: Feel this. [Anthony puts his hand up. Applejack does a short, hard jab. Anthony shakes his hand out.] ANTHONY *whistles*: You could give somebody a concussion. DIGNAN: Let me feel that. [Dignan puts his hand up. Applejack nails it.] DIGNAN *grabbing his hand*: Ow. sh**. [A drop of water hits Dignan on the head. He looks up. More water falls on him. He gets out of the way. Everyone looks up. There's a man on the roof. He laughs, hysterically. They stare up at him.] MAN: How's the weather down there? DIGNAN *pause*: Mr. Henry? MAN: Come on in! DIGNAN: It's locked. MAN: No, it's not. [Dignan shrugs. He goes over to the door. Mr. Henry pours some more water on him.] [A minute later: a steel garage door opens and the man steps outside. He is tall, about sixty years old with white hair clipped short and a trim goatee. He wears black trousers, black shoes, no shirt, and a string of animal teeth around his neck. This is MR. HENRY. He puts a towel around Dignan's shoulders and pats him on the back.] MR. HENRY: Dignan. Good to see you. Good to see you Applejack. *looks at Anthony* Who are you? DIGNAN: This is Anthony Adams, Mr. Henry. MR. HENRY: This is no good. [Mr. Henry stares hard at Dignan. He looks to Anthony. He looks back to Dignan.] MR. HENRY: This is no good, bringing him here. What are you thinking? What the sh**, man? Are you crazy? [Mr. Henry stares at Dignan. He looks to Anthony.] MR. HENRY: I'm pulling your leg. Abe Henry. [They shake hands. Mr. Henry points to ROWBOAT, a tall, older black man standing in the doorway. Rowboat wears a white windbreaker.] MR. HENRY: This is my business manager, Rowboat. ANTHONY: Nice to meet you. MR. HENRY: That's a sharp jacket. ANTHONY: Thanks. [INT. WAREHOUSE. DAY] [The second floor of the warehouse is one huge room painted all white. Mr. Henry and Anthony are playing ping-pong. Dignan watches. Rowboat-and Applejack are on the far side of the room playing chess.] ANTHONY: It's hard to get much spin with this kind of paddle. MR. HENRY: It's called a racquet, Anthony, and you're holding it wrong. That's ghetto play. Hold it like this. [Anthony changes his grip. Mr. Henry serves. The ball clicks back and forth. They're both solid players. Anthony whips a shot crosscourt and wins the point.] MR. HENRY: You know, your form is for sh**, but you've got a hell of a talent. ANTHONY: Thanks. [Mr. Henry serves. Anthony returns. Mr. Henry suddenly fires a scorching shot down the line. Anthony watches it click past him. He looks to Mr. Henry.] ANTHONY: Nice shot. [Mr. Henry smiles. He looks to Dignan.] MR. HENRY: Is he in? DIGNAN: I don't know. Are you in, Anthony? [Anthony stands there silent. He looks to Applejack and Rowboat. He looks to Mr. Henry. Then Dignan.] ANTHONY: Yeah, I'm in. [Mr. Henry puts down his paddle. Stares at Anthony. Smiles.] MR. HENRY: OK, kid. Let's go talk about cops and robbers. [INT. WAREHOUSE. DAY] [The ground floor is crammed with cars. Some have been taken apart. Some are shiny and perfect. Anthony and Dignan walk among the cars and junk with Mr. Henry. They've each got coffee in a styrofoam cup.] MR. HENRY: Every once in a while some cat comes to me. He wants to know how I made it. How did I become a success? The first thing I tell them is: follow your instincts. Let your instincts guide you. The second thing I tell them is, for Christ's sake: you got to know your grammar. ANTHONY: Grammar. DIGNAN: What do you mean grammar? MR. HENRY: The basic grammatical rules of robbing. ANTHONY: You mean like techniques? MR. HENRY *nods*: Technique. That's right. Seventy-five percent of your job is crowd control. Seventy-five percent. Do you believe that? DIGNAN *pause*: Yes, I do. [EXT. ROOFTOP. DAY] [On the roof of the warehouse. They're standing near the edge, looking out. Mr. Henry is smoking a joint. He's got on a black beret. Anthony and Dignan are listening to him talk.] MR. HENRY: On the other hand you got to have the right equipment. I don't care if you're Harry Houdini. You can't pick a lock without a hairpin. [Dignan nods.] ANTHONY: I'd like to live in that place. Hinckley Cold Storage. MR. HENRY: Yeah. Convert it into lofts. OK. Pop quiz. What's the single most important aspect of your job? DIGNAN: The grammar? MR. HENRY: Crowd control. Crowd control. Wake up, guys. DIGNAN: Oh, yeah. MR. HENRY: You're going to need a boxman for this one. But that can be arranged. ANTHONY: You mean a safecracker? MR. HENRY: Yeah. And I'll tell you who we're going to want: Kumar Banijamali. DIGNAN: Is he good? MR. HENRY: He's damn good. [INT. KUMAR'S ROOM. DAY] [KUMAR is about sixty-five with white hair. He's short and wears a pale-green bu*ton-down shirt, dark trousers, and sandals. His room is small and has everything he needs in it. Books. Little TV. Possessions from all over the world. Kumar sits on his bed. Anthony and Dignan sit in wooden chairs. Kumar stares out the window. They sit for a long silence.] DIGNAN: So what do you think of the plan, Mr. Kumar? [Kumar shrugs. Pause.] DIGNAN: We'd love to have you on the team. [Kumar nods. He looks at a plant growing by the window. Silence.] ANTHONY: What is that? An orchid? [Kumar shakes his head. Sighs deeply. Long pause. Kumar suddenly stands up and unbu*tons his shirt. He throws it on the bed. He undoes his trousers and takes them off. Anthony looks at Dignan. Kumar takes off his socks, then his shorts. He is naked. He walks over to his dresser and takes out a small satchell. He looks around the room. Right at Anthony. He walks quickly toward him. Anthony gets nervous. Kumar grabs Anthony's shoulder and lifts him up a little. He pulls a towel out from underneath Anthony. He puts his hand on Dignan's shoulder as he walks to the door, into the hall.] KUMAR: Good plan. [He goes out. Anthony and Dignan sit there for a minute. They're a little disoriented.] DIGNAN: What do you think? ANTHONY *nods*: He seems pretty good. [INT. BOB'S HOUSE. NIGHT] [The foyer of Bob's house. The doorbell is ringing. Bob walks in wearing a velour robe. He opens the front door. Anthony and Dignan are standing on the dootstep. Dignan and Bob shake hands. It's a little awkward.] BOB: Hey, Dignan. How's it going? DIGNAN: Not bad. BOB: Come on in. What you been up to? DIGNAN: Not a whole lot, Bob. [They walk through the house.] BOB: It's too bad about what happened on the road. DIGNANL: Yeah. It is. ANTHONY: Let's not even talk about it. BOB: It was stupid. DIGNAN: Right. It was extremely stupid. BOB: I don't expect an apology and I don't even want one. I just want us to -- DIGNAN: I can't f**ing believe this guy. An apology, Bob? BOB: Man, I don't want to go into this. ANTHONY: Yeah. Let's keep it -- BOB: Cause you would of let my brother rot in jail. DIGNAN: You said 48 hours! BOB: I never agreed to that. DIGNAN: Bob, you're lying! BOB: Bullsh**. DIGNAN: All right! Backyard! Right now! [Dignan walks straight to the back door and goes out. He stands on the deck.] DIGNAN: Let's go, Bob! [Anthony gets up and tries to calm Dignan down.] ANTHONY: Dignan. Take it easy. DIGNAN: Bob! [Bob is slowly moving toward the back door.] BOB: No, Dignan. This is stupid. [Bob is standing just inside the back door.] ANTHONY: Yeah. Dignan. Look. Let's just -- [Dignan grabs Bob's shirt and pulls him out the door.] ANTHONY: Stop, Dignan! [Anthony breaks them up. He stands in front of Bob, shielding him.] ANTHONY: He doesn't want to fight. DIGNAN: Get out of the way. ANTHONY: No, Diqnan. This isn't -- [Dignan gets around Anthony and lands a glancing punch.] DIGNAN: Come on! BOB: I don't want to fight you, Dignan. ANTHONY: Dignan, we're friends. Take it easy. [Dignan lands another punch. He grabs Bob's shirt and pulls him around. Then he starts landing punches. One. Two. Then Bob nails Dignan in the shoulder. They grab onto each other and start fighting hard. They're about the same strength. After a couple of seconds Anthony tries to break it up.] ANTHONY: Dignan. Dignan. [All the sudden Dignan stops fighting.] DIGNAN: All right. Stop. [Dignan puts his arms around Bob.] DIGNAN: No fighting. [Dignan turns to Anthony. There's tears in his eyes.] DIGNAN: No fighting. It wasn't Bob's fault. ANTHONY: Easy, Dignan. It's OK. [They all catch their breath for a minute. Dignan hugs Bob again.] DIGNAN: It wasn't your fault, Bob. You had your brother. BOB: I didn't have any choice. [They stand there another minute.] DIGNAN: I'm sorry, Bob. BOB: That's OK. ANTHONY *starting to laugh*: sh**, Dignan. DIGNAN *smiles*: What the f** are we doing out here? ANTHONY: I don't know, Dignan. You went crazy. DIGNAN: I'm sorry, Bob. BOB: That's OK. DIGNAN: Look. We want you on the job. [EXT. COUNTRY CLUB. DAY] [The restaurant at Bob's country club, People are dressed for golf and tennis. The waiters wear white jackets. and black bow ties. The whole crew sits at a big table by the front window.] MR. HENRY: Let me get this straight. You don't play golf and you don't play tennis. So why do you belong to a country club? BOB: You got me. MR. HENRY *shakes his head*: You're a piece of work, Bob. [A black waiter about thirty-five, JACKSON, stops by the table.] JACKSON: How you doing, Bob? BOB: Hey, Jackson. How's it going? [Jackson refills their water gla**es.] JACKSON: You keeping out of trouble? BOBL I'm trying. JACKSON *looks at others at table*: This boy's a troublemaker. He used to tear this place apart. [Mr. Henry laughs. Bob smiles sheepishly. Jackson stands there for a minute looking around the room.] JACKSON: Your brother was up here the other day. He said you ran away from home. BOB: He said what? JACKSON: He said you ran away from home. BOB: No. I didn't run away. I went out of town. [Jackson nods.] DIGNAN: Bob. [Bob looks at Dignan. Dignan's looking across the room. There's Future Man and his friend CLAY fresh from a round of golf. They're standing on the other side of the room, looking across at Bob. They're smiling. Jackson picks up two empty plates and walks away. Future Man and CLAY walk to Bob's table.] FUTURE MAN: Fancy seeing you here, Bob. BOB: Yeah. Hey, Clay. CLAY: Hi, Bob. FUTURE MAN *smiling*: So what's shaking? BOB: Nothing much. [Future Man looks at Anthony and Dignan. His smiles fades.] FUTURE MAN: How's it going. ANTHONY: Fine, thanks. [Future Man looks at the rest of the crew. His smile comes back. Mr. Henry smiles.] FUTURE MAN: John Mapplethorpe. *shaking hands with crew across table* How are you. Hi. MR. HENRY: Good to know you, John. BOB: Jackson says you told him I ran away from home. [Clay laughs. Future Man smiles.] FUTURE MAN: I might have mentioned it. BOB: John, I'm twenty-six years old I didn't run away from home. FUTURE MAN I know, Bob. You were on a secret mission. BOB: I'd appreciate it if you didn't go around telling people lies about me. FUTURE MAN: Right. I'm sorry. *looks at Clay* You've got a reputation to think about. [Clay smiles. Bob shakes his head. Mr. Henry stands up. Everyone looks at him. He's got a cold but calm expression.] MR. HENRY: The world needs dreamers, son. FUTURE MAN: What? MR. HENRY: The world needs dreamers. To relieve the pain of consciousness. [Future Man nods. Pause. Mr. Henry doesn't sit down.] FUTURE MAN: Well, we'll see you later, Bob. MR. HENRY: Pleasure to meet you, John. FUTURE MAN *hesitantly*: Nice to meet you. [Future Man and Clay walk away. Mr. Henry sits down.] MR. HENRY: I hope this doesn't offend you, Bob. *looks closely at Bob* Your brother is a co*ks**er. [Bob smiles. They all smile.] BOB: No. That doesn't offend me.