365 lines
14 KiB
Plaintext
365 lines
14 KiB
Plaintext
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########## ### ### ##########
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Underground eXperts United
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Presents...
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[ Screenplay: In The Colosseum ] [ By The GNN ]
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____________________________________________________________________
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____________________________________________________________________
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IN THE COLOSSEUM
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Screenplay adapted from the short story "Interrogation" by The GNN.
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(c) Underground eXperts United and Underground Motion Entertainment, 1996.
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The Underground Motion Entertainment crew are
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Phearless, H.C Andersson, Martinique, Joseph, Knyttet and The GNN.
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Screen shots are available at http://www.lysator.liu.se/~chief
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and in uXu file 360
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INT. CORRIDORS
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(Opening credits while we see two men, HAROLD and SMITH, walk through
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basement corridors. HAROLD is handcuffed and wears a military uniform.
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SMITH, dressed in a police uniform, walks slightly behind HAROLD, keeping
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a gun pointed at him. Camera switch between different angles.)
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CUT TO:
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INT. CRAMPED INTERROGATION ROOM
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(HAROLD and SMITH enter a cramped interrogation room with two chairs, a
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little table, no windows. They sit down on the chairs. SMITH is nervous
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and irritated. HAROLD is calm, signs of happiness and madness can be seen
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in his face. Throughout the conversation, the camera switches between
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POV's, pans and walks.)
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SMITH
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(brings up a paper and a pen)
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Your name is Harold Warnock? Correct?
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HAROLD
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(ironically)
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Of course!
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SMITH
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(quickly)
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Watch it!
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HAROLD
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...and you're Mister Smith, yeah?
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SMITH
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You just...
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HAROLD
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Love that name.
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SMITH
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...shut your face 'till I tell you to speak? Do I make myself clear?
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HAROLD
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(to no one)
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Don't you just love this guy?
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(to SMITH)
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Who cares anyway? You're the police. I'm the criminally insane. Interrogate
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me. It's your duty, blue boy.
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(For a moment, they stare at each other, in silence.)
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SMITH
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Harold?
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HAROLD
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Yes, police officer king-pin, wassup?
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SMITH
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You're evil, Harold.
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(HAROLD theatrically shows the palms of his hands to SMITH.)
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HAROLD
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But look how _clean_ they are. So _clean._ _Clean._ As the world.
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SMITH
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There is no world, Harold. _No world._
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HAROLD
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(shaking his head)
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It's _clean._
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SMITH
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(calmly)
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_Fuck_ you, Harold.
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HAROLD
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(laughing)
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Well, I figure you're the only one around who might be able to do that.
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SMITH
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(suddenly)
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Now let me get this straight. Am I really coming through to you? Do you
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really hear me? Or am I just producing words towards some kind of human
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wall? Could I rather spend my time doing something else..?
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HAROLD
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Oh, I wonder what that would be...
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SMITH
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...What? Could I?
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HAROLD
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Sure. Sure as hell. You could need a little vacation. What about Paris?
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Moscow? London? Tokyo? Just bring a broom. Guess you need to tidy them up.
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(smiling)
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A little.
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SMITH
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For Christ sake, face the facts! You're dead! Talkin' loud won't dig any
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escape tunnels for you! Your crime.. is... is...
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(He never finish the sentence.)
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HAROLD
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Aww, who cares _now?_
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SMITH
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_You_ better.
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HAROLD
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I'm already dead, ain't I? Didn't you just say so? They... _you_... will
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give me the capital punishment, won't you? What else is there? There are
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no jails any more, no prisons, nothing. Just your gun. _Your power._
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(pause)
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SMITH
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Why did you do it?
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HAROLD
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Come on, why _not?_
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SMITH
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For starters, it's the worst possible crime one could ever commit. You've
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violated other peoples rights, your code of ethics as a soldier and...
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and... common-fucking-sense!
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HAROLD
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Let me put it this way: I wanted to clean up the place. It was dirty.
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Really, really dirty, as you know. Filthy! Dirty! Evil! Bad! Hellish!
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SMITH
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(sadly)
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But it was around!
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HAROLD
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Oh, even worse. Goddamn, like sticking your hand down the john and love
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the shit because "it's around." You must be fucking kidding, did you learn
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rhetoric in some kindergarten?
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SMITH
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(sadly)
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It's so... it's so...
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(concluding)
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You don't exist, do you? You're not for real, are you?
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HAROLD
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I am. The world is not. Thank God.
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SMITH
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Blasphemy. Suits you.
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HAROLD
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I'm not Jesus. But close, don't you say?
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(SMITH does not reply.)
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SMITH
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How did you do it?
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HAROLD
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You know how.
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(SMITH bangs his fist into the table.)
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SMITH
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(irritated)
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Answer the goddamn question!
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HAROLD
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I turned a key.
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SMITH
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You turned a key...
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HAROLD
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And the world was no more.
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SMITH
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Wonderful.
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HAROLD
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But I had to do some other things first. Hey, you know, it's not enough
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to just turn one key. No no, if you do that they will get you at once.
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Two keys must be turned. _My_ key. _His_ key.
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SMITH
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His...?
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HAROLD
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The second man. We're always two. Two men, down in the basement. Sitting
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there, all day long. Waiting. Waiting, for the miracle to come. Waiting,
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for the big men to get to the point. When they do, we turn out keys. But
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they never did. No decisions. Well, at least no _big_ decisions. Just the
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usual mumbo-jumbo. No results.
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SMITH
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Unbelievable...
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HAROLD
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Indeed.
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SMITH
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(depressed)
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Oh God...
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HAROLD
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Well, just had to get the other fella to turn the key. Then the problems
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would be solved. They would be cleaned up. Big time.
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SMITH
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And?
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HAROLD
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We sat there for twenty years. Do you understand?
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SMITH
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No. I don't. I really don't.
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HAROLD
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Oh no? Well, once day I began to consider the modus operandi. Time to try
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out some psycho tricks! Time to do something fun. So, I began to talk to
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the guy beside me.
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SMITH
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You're telling me you didn't say a word to him before that? Twenty years?
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HAROLD
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I didn't say that. I said: I began to talk to him. For real. I manipulated
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him. Get it?
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SMITH
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Go on.
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HAROLD
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I will "go on" whenever I feel for it. I can do whatever I want. Anyway,
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it took me three years. Three long years. But it was worth it. Worth
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waiting for, like a dolly bird back home or a cold beer in the sun. It
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took me three years. Then...
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SMITH
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Then...
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HAROLD
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...then he turned the key.
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(SMITH draws his gun from his holster, cocks it, and puts it on the table
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in front of him.)
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SMITH
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(crescendo)
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Then what? Then what? What happened then, Harold? When he turned the key,
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what did you do? Did you turn your key? Did you? What happened when you
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turned your key? What happened?
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HAROLD
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(slowly, devilish)
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I turned my key too... I had to do it, Mister Smith... you know that...
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SMITH
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What happened then, Harold? What the fuck happened?
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(HAROLD waves his arms, wildly.)
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HAROLD
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(crescendo)
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It said bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! It said bang! Bang, Smith!
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Bang! Bang! Bang!
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SMITH
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(formally)
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When you turned your key, you launched twenty strategical nuclear warheads
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against ten different countries. They responded to the attack at once.
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Before you were able to say Jacka Cracka Eats Shit, the world was gone!
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You hear me? In less than ten minutes, the world was gone!
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HAROLD
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(slowly, silently)
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I know, mister Smith, I know...
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SMITH
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You've destroyed everything. You're the angel-of-fucking-death, alive and
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kicking, while the world is on fire. How does that feel, Harold? How does
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that _feel?_
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HAROLD
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(devilish)
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Can you feel the cancer inside you, mister Smith? Can you feel it? It feels
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good, don't you say? It's pure. It's clean. It eats away all the dirt.
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(SMITH suddenly rises from the chair, leans over the table, and puts the
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barrel of the gun under the chin of HAROLD.)
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HAROLD
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(ironically)
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What are you going to do, mister Smith? Are you going to kill me? Oh, that
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really scares me. I'm so afraid.
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(Pause. They remain in their positions. When HAROLD once again begins to
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talk, the camera slowly zooms into his face. When the last word is
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uttered, the whole picture only contains his eyes.)
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HAROLD
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(crescendo)
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Did you search for me, mister Smith? What did you think when you saw the
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gigantic flowers of smoke arise from the ground? "I'm going to get the
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son-of-a-bitch who is responsible for this"? Did you, cop? Did you, pig?
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Well, did you? Here I am! And I've confessed my crimes! The last criminal
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on planet earth, with the last cop! Punish me! Do what the law tells you
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to do! Do it now! Now! Now! Do it! Do it now! _Now!_
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(fade to black)
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(closing credits)
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---------------------------------------------------------------------------
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uXu #344 Underground eXperts United 1996 uXu #344
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Call KASTLEROCK -> +1-412-527-3749
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---------------------------------------------------------------------------
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