НАЗВАНИЕ: Fargo (1996)
ГОД: 1996
СЦЕНАРИСТ: Joel Coen and Ethan Coen
ИСТОЧНИК: ScriptSlug (PDF) — https://www.scriptslug.com/script/fargo-1996
URL: https://assets.scriptslug.com/live/pdf/scripts/fargo-1996.pdf
СКАЧАНО: 2026-10-12 11:50
ПРИМЕЧАНИЕ: текст чужой, для личного изучения. Не распространять. Не исполнять.
======================================================================

                                  F A R G 0

                           Original screenplay    by
                          Joel Coen and Ethan    Coen




            November 2,




.·.   ---
(
\ ·
                                                                                               --


                                          FARGO

           The following   text   fades   in over black:
                This is a true story.   The events depicted   in this film
                took place in Minnesota in 1987.    At the request   of the
                sur.rivors the names have been changed.    OUt of respect
                for the dead, the rest has been told exactly    as it
                occurred.

           FLARE TO WHITE

           FADE IN FROMWHITE:
           Slowly the white becomes a barely perceptible     image: white
_,,..      particles
           whispers.
                      wave over a white backgound.
                       Ominous music builds.
                                                       A snowfall.   Wind
                                                 With a low chord, a car bursts
           through the curtain    of snow. The car is equipped with a hitch
(          and is towing another car, a brand·new blue Cutlass      Ciera with
           the pink sales sticker    still showing in its rear window.
           As the cars roar past,  leaving        snow swirling     in their    draft,   the
           title of the film fades in:                                 .
                                          FARGO

           Gre~n highway signs point the way to MOOREHEAD  ~~nnesota/FAR.GO
           North Dakota; the roads for the two cities diverg~;   a sign says
           WELCOME  TO NORTHDAKOTAand anot~er just after   says NOWE?ITERIN~
           FARGOND POP. 44,412.
           The car pulls   into   a Rodeway !nu.

           LOBBY
           A man in his early forties,    balding and starting to paunch, goes
           to the reception  desk.    The clerk is a woman of about the same
           age.
                                 Clerk
                      And how are you today,        sir?
                                          ~..an
                      Real good now.        !'m c~~=king   in,    ~~-   Andersor..
\
    '- ·
                                                                                2

      As she types    into   a computer:
                                 Clerk
                 Okay Mr. Anderson, and you're still  planning
                 on staying with us just the one night then?
                                    Anderson
                 You bet.


      HOTELROOM
      The man turns    on the TV; it       shows the local   5:00 news.
                                 Dave Moore (anchor)
                 --whether  they will go to summercamp at all.
                 Katie Jensen has more.
                                     Katie
                 It was supposed to be a project     funded by the
                 city council;     it was supposed to benefit
                 those    Fargo/Moorehead   children wh~ would
                 otherwise    not be able to afford a lakeshore
                 summercamp. But nobody consulted       city
                 comptroller    Stu Jacobson ...

      RED   LOBSTER
      Anderson sits alone at a table eating the surf 'n turf.  M..1zak
      plays.  A middle-aged waitress approaches holding a pot of
      regular coffee in one hand and decaf in the other.
                                     Waitress
                 Can I wann that      up for ya there?
                                     Anderson
                                    {absently,
                 You bet.
      The man looks    at his   watch.


      THROUGH
            A WINDSHIELD
      We are pulling   into the snowswep: parking let of a one-story
      brick building.     Broken neon at th~ top of the building
      identifies   it as the Jolly Tro~ 1 1·avern. J.. troll, also in nee: ..
      holds aloft a champagne glass.
(._
                                                                                                  3

       INSIDE
       The bar is downscale even for this town.        Country muaic plays on
       the jukebox.     We track toward two men seated in a booth at the
       back.   One man is short,     thin and young. The other man is older,
       dour.   Tl.e table in f rent of them is littered    with empty longneck
       beer bottles.     The ashtray    is full.
       Anderson   approaches.
                                             Anderson
                   I'm uh, Jerry            Lundegaard.     Uh,   Shep Proudfoot         said--
                                             Younger Man
                   Shep said        you'd     be here at 7:30.           What gives,
                   man?
                                             Lundegaard
                   Shep said        8:30.

                                   Younger Man
                   We been sitting   here an hour.                I've     peed
                   thre~ times already.
                                  Jerry
(·"
                   I'm sure sorry I ...              Shep told     me e:3C.         ~t
                   was a mix-up I guess.
                                             Younger t-'..an
                   Ya got the car?
                                             Jerry
                   Yah, you bet.             It's  in the lot     there.       Brand
                   new Cierra.
                                   Younger fv".ian
                   Yeah okay, well siddow:: ther..  I'm Carl
                   Rolvaag and this is mv associate    Gaear
                   Grimsrud.
                                   Jerry
                   Yah, how ya doin'.    So, uh, we all                    set on
                   this thing then?
                                             Carl
                   Sure,   Jerry,       we' re a.!.: set.       Wl:y   woi..ldn' t we
                   be?
                                  Jerry
                   Yah, no, I'm sure you are', Shep vouched for
                   you and all.  I got every confidence   here ir.
;'
                   YC!U fellas.
''•,
                                                                                             4

They stare    at him.           An awkward beat .

             . . . So I guess              that's        it     then.      Here's      the
             keys--
                                         Carl
             No that's          not    it, Jerry.
                                         Jerry
                     . Huh?
                             Carl
             The new Oldsmobile,                 plus      forty        thousand
             dollars.
                             Jerry
             Yah, but, the deal was, the car first   see,
             then the forty thousand,  like as if it was
             the ransom.   I thought Shep told you--
                                         Carl
             Shep didn't          tell     us much, Jerry.
                                 Jerry
             Well,    okay~ it's--
                                     Carl
             Except      that     you were gonna be here                     at    7:30.

                                         Jerry
             Yah, well          that     was a mix-up            then.
                                 Carl
             Yeah,    you already     said              that.
                              Jerry
             Yah . But it's   not a whole pay-in-advance
             deal;   I give you a brand new vehicle    in
             advance,   and--
                                 Carl
             I'm not      gonna debate              you Jerry.
                                         Jerry
             Okay.
                             Carl
             I'm not gonna sit here and debate.                               I will
             say this, though:    What Shep told                            us didn't
             make a whole lot of sens~.
                                         Jerry
                                                                                                           5

                      Oh no,     it's     real      sound,      it's    all   worked   out.
                                                 Carl
                      You want your             own wife      kidnapped.
                                                 Jerry
                      Yah.
     Carl   stares.          Jerry      looks     blankly       back.
                                          Carl
                      ...     You--my point is, you pay the ransom,
                      what, eighty thousand bucks, I mean you give
                      us half the ransom, forty thousand,     you keep
                      half,   it's   like robbing Peter to pay Paul, it
                      doesn't     make any--
                                         Jerry
                      Okay, it's--see      it's not me payin' the
                      ransom.     The thing is, my wife, she's
                      wealthy,    her dad he's real well off.     Now I'm
                      in a bit of trouble--
                                              Carl
                      What kind         of trouble        are    you in,      Jerry?
                                          Jerry
(_                    Well that's,     that's,  :•m net                 go~r.a gc inta,
                      inta--see    I just need money.                    Now her dad's
                      real wealthy--
                                             Carl
                      So why don't         you just          ask hirn rcr      the money?
     Grimsrud,      the dour older man who has not yet                           spoken,      no~ so!~:y
     puts in,     in a Swedish-accented  voice:
                                                 Grimsrud
                      Or your        fucking      wife you kno~.
                                                 Carl
                      Or your        fucking      wife,      Jerry.
                                          Jerry
                      Well it's    all jus~ part of this--they     don't
                      know I need it, seF.      Okay sc there's    that.
                      And even if they did. I would~'t       g~t it.     So
                      there's   that on top then.    See. these're
                      personal   matters.
                                                 Carl
                      Personal        matters.
                                                                                                 6

                                               Jerry
                      Yah.     Personal        matters      that     needn't,   uh--

                                        Carl
                      Okay Jerry.   You're tasking us to pe=form
                      this mission but you you won't ~h, you won't-
                      -aw fuck it let's     take a look at that Cierra.


         SUBURBAN
                HOUSE MINNEAPOLIS
         Jerry enters through the kitchen--rear--door,   wearing a parka and
         a red plaid Elmer Fudd hat.   He stamps snow off his feet.     He is
         carrying  a bag of groceries which he deposits  on the kitchen
         counter.
         He calls:
                                        Jerry
                      Hon?     Got the growshries.
                                               Voice
.~   ·
                      Thank you hon.            How's Farg~?

l                     Yah, real        good.
                                               Jerry

                                               Voice
                      Dad's    here.

         DEN
         Jerry   enters,     pulling     off his plaid             cap.
                                               Jerry
                      How ya doin',        Wade?
         Wade Gustafson is mid-sixtyish,                   vigorous,  with a f~::      head of
         gray hair.    His eyes stay fixed                 on the TV.
                                            Wade
                      Yah, pretty        good.
                                               Jerry
                      Whatcha watchin'            there?
                                               Wade
                      Norstars.
         Jerry   is looking.
                                                                                                        7

                                        Jerry
                     ...       Who they playin'?
                                               Wade
                     OOOoooh!
His reaction                synchronizes         with a reaction       from the crowd.

KITCHEN
Jerry walks back in,                    taking     off his    coat.     His wife      is putting       on
an apron.
                                     Jerry
                           (nodding at the living room door)
                     Is he stayin'  for supper then?
                                             Wife
                     Yah, I think          so.
Calling         through        the door:
         ...          Dad, are you stayin'               for supper?
                                               Wade
                                               (off)
                     Yah.


DINING ROOM
Jerry,         his    wife,      Wade, and Scotty,           twelve    years   old,    sit   ea:in~.
                                     Scotty
                     May I be excused?
                                        Jerry
                     Sure,     ya done there?
                                               Scot:y
                     Uh-huh.          Goin'    OUL.

                                               Wife
                     Where      are    you going?

                                               Scotty
                     Just     out.      Just    McDonald's.
                                               Jerr 1·
                     Back at 9:30.
                                                                                     8

                             Scotty
Okay.
               Wade
He just ate.  And he didn't                            finish.     He's
going to McDonald's instead                            of finishing
here?
                           Wife
He sees       his      friends  there.                 It's   okay.
               Wade
It's  okay? McDonald's?   What do you think
they do there?  They don't drink milkshakes,
I assure you!
                             Wife
It's       okay,     Dad.
                Jerry
Wade, have ya had a chance to think about,
uh, that deal I was talkin'   about, those
forty acres there on Wayzata.
                     Wade
You told       me about it.
                 Jerry
Yah, you said you'd haver    think                            about    it.       I
understand  it's  a lot of money--
                             Wade
A heck of a lot.               What'd           you say yo~ w~re
gonna put there?
                             Jerry
A   lot.      It's         a limited--
                          Wade
I know it's            a lot.
                             Jerry
I mean a parking                lo:.
                             Wade
Yah, well,           S750,000          is   a lot--ha         ha ha!
                             Jerry
Yah, well           it's     a chunk,          but--
                             Wade
I had a couple               lots,      late      fifties.        Lost       a
                                                                                                  9

                        lot     of money.      A "lot"      of money.
                                               Jerry
                        Yah,     but--
                                        Wade
                        I thought you were gonna show it to Stan
                        Grossman.   He passes on this stuff before                   it
                        gets kicked up to me.
                                       Jerry
                        Well you know Stan'll   say no dice.     That's
                        why you pay him.    I'm asking~      here, Wade.
                        This could work out real good for me and Jean
                        and Scotty--
                                               Wade
                        Jean     and Scotty     never      have to worry.


          WHITE
          A black  line        curls through the white.   Twisting             perspective
          reveals  that        it is an aerial  shot of a two-lane             highway bordered
,I'-'     by snowfields;         one moving shape is a car.
(_
          INSIDE THE CAR
          Carl    Rolvaag      is driving;     Gaear Grimsrud       sits    next   to him.
          After     a long beat:
                                                Grimsrud
                                                 (softly)
                        Where is         Pancakes Hause.
                                               Carl
                        What?
                                             Grimsrud
                        We stop      at Pancakes Hause.
                                           Carl
                        What're you nuts?       We had pancakes fo~ break-
                        fast.   I gotta go somewhere I can get a sho:
                        and a beer--and     a steak mAybe. Not more
                        fuckin'  pancakes.      Come o~.

 r        Grimsrud     gives     him a sour      looY. .


l......
                                                                                10
            ...      Come on, man. Okay, here's    an idea.
            We'll    stop outside of Brainerd.    I know a
            place    there we can get laid.    Wuddya think?
Grimsrud   squints    at Carl    through    a plume of cigarette     smoke.
                               Grimsrud
            I'm fucking     hungry now you know.
                            Carl
            Yeah, yeah, Jesus--I'm   sayin',          we'll stop for
            pancakes,  then we'll get laid.            Wuddya think?


GUSTAFSONOLDS
Jerry is sitting    in his glassed-in  salesman's cubicle just            off
the showroom floor.     Across the desk from him sit an i=ate
customer and his wife.
                            Customer
            We sat here righ~ in this          roo~ and we~: ov~r
            this and over this!
                                 Jerry
            Yah, but that       TruCoat--
                                Customer
            I sat right     her~ and said      1 didr.'t   wa~: nc
            Tn1Coat- -
                             Jerry
            Yah, but I'm sayin',   that TruCoat, yo~ de~·:
            get it, and you get oxidization    proble~s,
            it'll   cost you a heck of a lot rnc=e•r: f:.v;
            hunnert--
                              Custom€:r
            You're sittin'    here, you're talkin'    ir.
            circles!    You're talkin'    like we didn't        g~
            over this already!
                                 Jerry
            Yah, but this       TruCoa~--
                            Customer
            We had us a deal here for ninet~en-five.      Yo~
            sat there and darned if you dia~·t     tell me
            you'd get me this car. these optlor.s,     WITHOU:-
            THE SEALANT, for nine:ee~-five!
                                                                                                11

                                               Jerry
                  Okay,      I'm not          sayin'      I didn't--
                                     customer
                  You called   me twenty minutes ago and said you
                  had it!    Ready to make delivery      y~ says!
                  Come on down and get it!       And here ya are and
                  you're  wastin'   ~ time    and you're   wastin'  my
                  wife's time and I'm payin' nineteen-five         for
                  this vehicle    here!
                                               Jerry
                  Well,      okay,     I'll       talk     to my boss ...
    He rises     and,     as he leaves:
                   ...     See, they install    that TruCoat at                        the
                  factory,     there's not.bin'   we can do, but                       I'll
                  talk to my boss.
    The couple     watches      him go into               a nearby     cubicle.
                                        Customer
                  These      guys here--these    guys!   It's always                      the
                  same!       It's always more!     He's a liar!
                                               Wife ·
                  Please,      dear.
                                               Custome=-
                  He's      a goddamn--

    NEAR.BY CUBICLE

    Jerry sits perched on the desk of another sales~a~    ~ho is eati~~
    his lunch and watching a hockey game on a srr.all portable  TV.
                                               Jerry
                  So you're          goin'       tot.he     Gophers     o~ $l;r.day?
                                               Salesman
                  You bet.
                                         · Jerry
                  You wouldn't           have an extra            tick~t     ther~?
                                               Salesman
                  They're      playin'          the Buckeyes!
r                                              Jerry
                  Yah.
l
                                                                                                   12
r                                           Salesman
                    You kiddin'     !


    JERRY'S CUBICLE
    As he reenters.

                                    Jerry
                    Well, he never done this before,     but seein'
                    as it's special  circumstances    and all he says
                    I can knock one hunnert    off that Trucoat.
                                     Customer
                    One hundred!    You lied to me Mr. Lundegaard.
                    You're a baldfaced    liar!
    Jerry    sits    staring      at his     lap .
                    . . . A fucking          liar--
                                            Wife
                    Please,    Bucky--
                                     Jerry
                            {softly   into his lap;
                    One hunnert's   the bes: we can do here.
                    'Course you can go out to Hopkins, try                    to
                    make a better--
                                      Customer
                                   (disgusted)
                    Oh for Christ   sake, where's my goddarn.~
                    checkbook.    Let's get this over with.


    WIDE EXT         TRUCK STOP
    There is a restaurant with many big rigs parked around it,   and a
    motel with an outsize ~aul Bunyan and Babe the Blue Ox ilanki~~
    its sign:  BLUE ox MOTEL.

    MOTELROOM
    Carl    Rolvaag and Gaear Grimsrud                 are   in the   twin   beds   having   sex
    with    two truck-stop hookers.
                                            Carl
                    Oh, Jesus,      yeah.
                                                                                              13
                                            His Hooker
                     There     ya go,     sugar.
                                             Grimsrud
                     Nnph.
                                             His Hooker
                     Yeah.       Yeah.      Oh yeah.

       LATER

       The couples      lie    in their      respective      beds   gazing   offscreen   at the
       TV set.
                                     Ed McMahon
                     --Johnny's guests tonight  will be Lee Majors,
                     George Wendt, and Steve Boutsikaros  from the
                     San Diego Zoo so keep that dial--


       LUNDEGAARD
                KITCHE~                MORNING

 ,.    We hear a morning show on the television;
       making coffee in the kitchen
                                                  Jean Lundegaard
                                    as Scott eats cereal
                                                                   is
                                                          at the table.

(                                           Jean
                     I'm talkin'         about your potential.
                                             Scott
                                          (absently)
                     Uh-huh.
                                           Jean
                     You're      not   a C student.
                                             Scott
                     Uhn.
                                          Jean
                     And yet      your gettin'         C grades.      It's that
                     disparity      there that         concern~     your Dad and
                     me.
                                             Scot:
                     Uh-huh.
                                    Jean
                     You know what a disparity               is?
                                             Scott
(',.
                                                                                           14
                                            (testily)
                   Yeah!
                                   Jean
                   Okay. Well that's    why we don't                       want ya goin'
                   out fer hockey.
                                              Scott
                   Oh, man!
      The phone rings.
                             What's         the big deal?         It's      an hour--
                                              Jean
                   Hold on.
      She is picking        up the phone.
                       . . . Hello?
                                              Phone Voice
                   Yah, hiya        hon.
                                              Jean
                   Oh,     hiya    Dad.
                                              Wade
                   Jerry     around?
                                              Jean
                   Yah, he's        still      here--I'll        catc~      hi~ fo= ya.
      She holds    the phone away and calls;
                             Hen?
                                              Voice
                   Yah .
                                              Jean
                   It's     Dad.
                                              Voice
                   Yah.
      Jerry   enters      in his    shirtsleeves            and tie.
                             Yah, okay.           . .
                                              Scott
                   Look Dad, there             is no ! .::i<ing          way- -

(
'··
    ,...                                                                                                 lS
                                                   Jean
                        Scott!
                                                 Jerry
                        Say,     let's      watch the language--
           Be takes    the phone .
                         . . . How ya doin',                Wade?
                                                Wade
                        What's       goin    on there?
                                                Jerry
                        Oh, nothing          Wade. How ya doin'           there?
                                        Wade
                        Stan Grossman looked                 at your proposal.      Says
                        it's pretty  sweet.
                                                   Jerry
                        No kiddin'?

,.                      We might
                                                Wade
                                         be interested.
                                                   Jerry
(_                      No kiddin' ! I'd              need the cash pretty         quick,
                        there.    In order            to close the deal.
                                        Wade
                        Come by at 2:30 and we'll talk about it.     If
                        your numbers are right,  Stan says its pretty
                        sweet. Stan Grossman.
                                                   Jerry
                        Yah.
                                                   Wade
                        2:30.

           Click.     Dial   tone.
                                                   Jerry
                        Yah, okay.




    ,..    GUSTAFSONOLDS GARAGE
           Jerry    is wandering         through      the    service   area   where cars    are b~:;.;
I

\ '···
                                                                                       16
     worked on.    He stops by an Indian in blue jeans                who is looking   at
     the underside   of a car that sits on a hydraulic                lift with a
     hanging cage light.
                                     Jerry
               Say Shep,        how ya doin'     ther~?
                                       Shep
               Mn.

                               Jerry
               Say ya know those two fellas   ya put me in
               touch with, up there in Fargo.
                                  Shep
               Put    you in touch with         Grimsrud.
                              Jerry
               Well yah but he had a buddy there,                he uh--
                                       Shep
               Well I don't          vouch for him.
                                     Jerry
               Well that's        okay, I j~st--
                              Shep
               I vouch for Grimsrud.             Who's his     buddy?
                                       Jerry
               Carl     somethin'?
                                     Shep
               Never heard        of him.      Don't   vouch   for   him.
                                 Jerry
               Well that's    okay, he's a buddy of the guy ya
               vouched for so I'm not worryin'.       I just,    I
               was wonderin',     see I gotta get ir. touch with
               'em, see this deal I needed 'em for,       I might
               not need it anymore, sumpr.'s happenin',       see--
                                       Shep
               Call'm     up.
                              Jerry
               Yah, well see I did that,   and!  haven't be~n
               able to get 'em so:   though~ you maybe'd know
               an alternate number or wha:. havi: ya.
r                                      Shep
               Nope.
(_
                                                                                              17
Jerry    slaps         his    fist   into     his   open palm and snaps his        fingers.
                                             Jerry
                 Okay, well          real     good then.


CAR

Carl    is driving,             Grimsrud      staring   out the    front.
After    a beat:
                                    Carl
                 ...     Look at that.   Twin Cities.       I.D.S.
                 Building,   the big glass one.     Tallest
                 skyscraper    in the Midwest.  After the Sears,
                 uh, Chicago.
Grimsrud    looks.
                              You never       been to Minneapolis.
                                             Grimsrud
              No.

                                             Ca::-1
                 ...          Would it       kill you to say something?
                                             Grimsrud
                 Just        did.
                                           Carl
                 "No."  First           thing you've       s~id   ir. the   lase
                 four hou;-s.
Grimsrud    shrugs .
               . . . That's a, that's      a fountai~    c!
              conversation,    . man. That 's a geyse:-.        ! rnea:;
              whoa daddy, stand back, man. Shit,            !'rn
              sittin'    her~ driving,   man, doin' a2l the
              driving,    whole fucking way from Brainerd,
              drivin',    tryin'   to, you kr.o~, tryin'      to chat,
              keep our spirits      up, fight the boredom of the
              road, and you can't      say one fucking thing
              just in the way of conversation.
Grimsrud    smokes,            gazing       out the window .
              . . . Well fuck it, I dor.•~ have to talk
              either, man. See how~       like it. Just
                                                                                      18
                 total  fuckin'    silence.  Ya know? Two can
                 play at~         game. Smart guy.     We'll just
                 see how~       like it ....     Uh-huh ...   We'll
                 just see how you fuckin'     like it--


       JERRY'S CUBICLE

       He is on the phone.
                                     Jerry
                 Yah, real   good,    how you doin'?
                                Voice
                 Pretty good, Mr. Lundegaard.                 You're     damned
                 hard to get on the phone.
                                     Jerry
                 Yah, it's pretty        darned    busy here,          but   that's
                 the way we like       it.
                                      Voice

,..              That's
                 last,
                 I can't
                 vehicles
                            for sure.
                          these financing
                                         Now I just need, on these
                             read the serial
                                             documents you sent us,
                               on here, so I ...
                                                 numbers of the
(__
                                   Jerry
                 But I already    got the, it's okay, the loans
                 are in place,    I already got the, the what,
                 the--
                                     Voice
                 Yeah, the   $320,000,       you got the money last
                 month.
                                   Jerry
                 Yah, so we're    all set.
                                 Voice
                 Yeah, but the vehicles you were borrowing on,
                 I just can't read the serial nurrbers on your
                 application.  Maybe i! you could just read
                 them to me--
                                     Jerry
                 But the deal's      already      done,     I already        got
                 the money--
                                  Voice
                 Yeah but,   we have an audit             here,   I just      have
/
\...
    ,..
    I
                                                                                            19
                   to know that these vehicles                  you're financing
                  with  this money, that they                  really  exist ...
                                       Jerry
                  Yah, well       they exist        all     right.
                                 Voice
                  I'm sure they do--ha ha! But I can't read
                  their serial nwnbers here. So if you could
                  read me--
                                  Jerry
                  Well but see, I don"t have •em in front                           a me-
                  -why don't I just fax you over a copy--
                                       Voice
                  No, fax is       no good, that's            what I have and I
                  can't read       the damn thing--
                                          Jerry
                  Yah, okay I'll          have my girl          send you a copy
                  then.
                                     Voice
                   Okay, because if I can't correlate    this note
                 . with the specific    vehicles, then I got.ta call
                   back that money--
                                  Jerry
                 \ Yah, how much money was that?
                                     Voice
•                  $320,000.     See, I gotta correlate  that                  money
                  with    the cars it's   being lent on.
                                          Jerry
                  Yah, no problem,           I'll    just      fax that.   over      t.o
                  ya then.
                                          Voice
                  No no,       fax is--
                                          Jerry
                  I mean send it          over.       I · 11 shoot    it   rigr::
                  over to ya.
                                          Voice
                  Okay.

        r         Okay, real
                                       Jerry
                                   good then
        (
        ·•....
,..
I                                                                                                           20

      CLOSE ON TELEVISION
      Bill Carlson is standing  in front of a counter                          on a kitchen           set
      in a television studio,  wearing an apron.
                                   Carlson
                    So I seperate the--how the heck do I get the
                    egg out of the shell without breaking it!?

      CLOSE ON JEAN
      Curled up on the couch with a cup of coffee,                          watching      the
      television.
                                            Woman's Voice
                    You just      prick     a little hole in the end and blow!
      Jean smiles as we hear laughter                and applause           from the studio
      audience.   She hears something               else- -a faint          scraping sound- -and .=
      looks up.

,..                 Okay, here
                                           Carlson
                                       goes nothing.
(     The scraping      sound persists.            Jean     sets   down her coffee            cup and
      rises.
      From the     studio     audience:
                                            Audience
                    Awooooo!

      THE KITCHEN
      We track towards the back door.                  A curtain          is stretched        tig~:
      across its window.
      Jean pulls     the     curtain      back .   Bright      sunlight       amplified       by sr.o~
      floods in.
      A man in an orange          ski mask looks           up from the        lock.
      She gasps,     drops     the curtain,        turns     and runs        into--
      A taller     man, also      in a ski mask--already              in the house.
      We hear    the crack       of the back-do~~           window being           smashed.
      The tall     man--Gaear      Grimsrud--g~ats           Jean's       wrist.
,,...
r                                                                                                               21
             She screams, staring           at her own imprisoned wrist,  then wraps her
             gaping mouth around           Grimsrud's gloved thumb and bites down hard.
             He drops    her wrist;        as Carl     enters    she races       up the   stairs.
                                                    Grimsrud
                          Unguent.
                                                    Carl
                          Huh?
             Grimsrud    looks      at his    thumb.
                                                 Grimsrud
                          I need.             unguent.
             We hear    footsteps       upstairs.          The two men look up.

             UPSTAIRS BEDROOM
             As the two men enter,             a door at the      far     side   is   slamming      shut.       A

,..          cord snakes in under

             MASTERBATHROOM
                                             the door.


(       __

             Jean, sobbing,         frantica-lly      pushes    at buttons       on the princess
             phone ..
             The phone pops out of her hands, jangles    across                       the tile  floe=.
             smashes against   the door and then bounces away,                        its cord having
             been ripped free.
             With a groaning         sound the door shifts              in it5   fra~~-

             BEDROOM
             Grimsrud has a crowbar jammed in between
             frame, and is working it.
                                                                           the bathroom      d~c~      ---
                                                                                                      c. •• -




             BATHROOM
             Jean crosses   to a high window aoove the toilet  and throws it
             open.   Snow that had drifted  against  the window sifts  lightly"-

    ,..      Jean steps up onto the toilet.

             THE DOOR
    I
    \. ..
             Creaking    as it moves,     as one piece,         in its     frame.



             She glance& back as she steps               up from the toilet          seat     to the
             tank.


             THE DOOR
             The jiggling culminates     with the wood around the knob splintering
             and the knob itself   falling   out onto the floor.  The door swings
             open.
             Grimsrud    and Rolvaag     enter.

             THEIR POV

             Room empty,     window open.
             Rolvaag    strides    to the window and hoists              himself     outside.
             Grimsrud opens the medicine cabinet and delicately                            taps aside
             various bottles and tubes, in search of the proper                            unguent.
             He finds a salve but after a moment sets it                    down, noticing
             something in the mirror.   The shower curtain                   is drawn around            the
             tub.   He steps toward it.
             As he reaches for the curtain               there is a scream and it               explodes
             outward, animated by thrashing                limbs.   ·
             Jean, tangled in the curtain,   rips it from its                      stays     and sturn=les
             out into the bedroom.  Grirnsrud follows.

             BEDROOM
             Jean rushes toward the door, cloaked                by the shower curtain              b~:
             awkwardly trying to push it off.

             UPSTAIRS LANDING
             Still    thrashing,   Jean half-crashes      against   the upstairs                 railing,
             half-trips      on the curtain,   and falls,     thumping crazily                  down the
             stairs.
             Grimsrud    trots    down after      her.
i
!
    ......
                                                                                                23


A PLAQUE:
WADEGUSTAFSONINCORPORATED

INSIDE WADE'S OFFICE
Wade sits   behind      his    desk;     another       man rises        as Jerry      enters.
                                     Jerry
            How ya doin'          there,   Stan.           How are ya,        Wade.
Stan Grossman      shakes      his     hand.
                                       Stan
            Good to see ya again, Jerry.                          If these
            numbers are right,  this looks                        pretty   sweet.

                                   Jerry
            Oh, those         numbers are          righ:    all     right,
            bleemee.
                                       Wade
            This      is do-able.
                                       Stan
            Congratulations,              Jerry.
                                     Jerry
            Yah, thanks          Stan, it's         a pretty--
                                       Wade
            What kind         of finder's          fee were you lcckin~
            for?
                                       Jerry
                   . Huh?
                           Stan
            The financials are pretty  thorough,  so the
            only thing we don't know is your fee.
                                       Jerry
            •   • • My    fee?         Wade, what the heck're                yo~
            talkin'      about?
                                      Wade
            Stan      and l"re       okay.
                                       Jerry
            Yah.
                                                                 24
                          Wade
           We're good to load in.
                                  Jerry
           Yah.
                           Wade
           But we never talked about your fee for
           bringin' it to us.
                          Jerry
           No, but Wade, see, I was bringin' you this
           deal for you to loan~   the money to put in.
           It's my deal here, see?
Wade scowls,   looks       at Stan.
                             Stan
           Jerry--we   thought you were bringin'        us an
           investment.
                                  Jerry
           Yah, right--
                                 Stan
           You're      sayin'--what're    you sayin'?
                                  Wade
           You're sayin'   that we put in all the money
           and you collect    when it pays off?
                              Jerry
           No, no, I--I'd,      I'd--pay    you back the
           principal,     and interest--heck,      I'd go--one
           ove::- prime--
                          Stan
           We're not a bank, Jerry.
Wade is scowling       at hin~.
                          Wade
           What the heck, Jerry,  if I wanted~
           interest on seven hunnert'n  fifty  thousand
           I'd go to Midwest Federal.   Talk to Bill    ·
           Diehl.

                                  Stan
           He's     at Norstar.
                                  Wade
           He's     at--
                                                                                               25
                                   Jerry
              No, see, I don't need a finder's            fee, I need-
              -finder's     fee"s,    what, ·ten percent,     heck
              that's     not gonna do it for me. I need the
              principal.
                                  Stan
              Jerry,      we"re not going to just~                you
              $750,000.

                                      Wade
              What the heck were you thinkin'?     Heck, if
              I'm only gettin'   bank interest, I'd look for
              complete security.    Heck, FDIC. I don't see
              nothin'  like -'hat here.
                               Jerry
              Yah, but I--okay,    I would,          I'd    guarantee    ya
              your money back.
                               Wade
              I'm not talkin'   about your damn~.       Jerry.
              Geez, what the heck're you ...       Well look,
              this here's   a good deal and we got the
              resources   to make it happen. I don't want to
              cut you out of the loop, but I assume if
              you're not innarested    in this deal you won't
              mind if we move on it innapend~r.:ly.



PARKINGLOT
We are high and wide on the parking lot of a one-sto::y offic~
park.   Jerry emerges wrapped up in a parka, his arms stickin;
stiffly  out at his sides,      his breath vaporizing.       He goes to h:~
car, opens its front door, pulls out a red pl asr.ic scraper,           and
starts  methodically    scraping off tLe thin crus: of ice that hAs
developed on his windshield.        The scrape-scrap~-scrap~      sc~~j
carries   in the frigid    air.
Jerry momentarily   goes into a frenzy, banging                   the s~rap;~        aga:~s:
the windshield   and the hood of his ca~.
The tantrum     passes.       Jerry     stands   panting,     staring    at nothing         i~
particular.
Scrape-scrape-scrape--he              goes back to work on his          windshield      .
                                                                                                                       26

     FRONTDOOR
     Later.     A beat,       silent        but for a key scraping                      at the lock.
     The door swings open and Jerry                         edres       in,     looking     about,      holding         a
     sack of groceries.
                                                  Jerry
                   Hon ...        ?

     He shuts     the door .
                   . . . I got            the growshries            .    ..

     He has already  seen the shower curtain                                  on the    floor.       He frowns,
     pokes at it with his foot .
                      . . Hon?

     UPSTAIRS BATHROOM
     Jerry walks in, tentative,                     scowling .           He sets        the groceries          down
     on the toilet  tank.
     He looks at the open window, throug~                               which sno~· still            sif:s     i::.
     shuts it.
     He picks up the small                tube of unguent that                    sits on the sink,
     frowns at it, puts it                back in the medicine                    ches:.
     He looks     at the shower curtai~                     rings       sitting        empty on the          curta:~
     rod.


     FOYER
     Once again     we are       looking           at     the shower c~rtain.                    Rumpled.
     Still.
     From another      room:
                                                  Jerry's    Voic-?
                   Yah Wade,           I--it'S        Jerry,   I ..
     A beat.      Then,      slightly            more agitated:
                   . . . Yah Wade, it • ~, I . it · s Jer:-y .
     Beat.
(_
                                                                                                             27
                      ...   Wade, it's  Jerry,                   I--we gotta         talk,
                      Wade, it's somethin'--it's                     terrible      ...
     Beat.

     LIVING ROOM
     In wide shot Jerry stands,                   hands     on hips,         looking         down at the
     phone on a coffee table.
     After a motionless             beat    he picks        up the phone,            punches         in a
     number, and:
                                        Jerry
                      ...      Yah, Wade Gustafson                 please.


     BLACK
     We hear the rumble of wheels on pavement. A headlit  sign rushes
     at us out of the dark:  WELCOME TO BRAINERD--Home of Paul Bunycn
     and Babe The Blue Ox.

     INT CAR

     Carl is driving    down a deserted stretch of highway.                                       Grimsrud
     smokes _ and gazes out the window. From the back seat                                        we hear
     whimpering.
     Grirnsrud       twists    around      to look.
     Jean lies bound and curled                   up or. the back seat               underneat~          a
     tarpaulin .
                                     Grimsrud
                      Shut the fuck up or I'll                    throw you back             in
                      the trunk, you know.
                                             Carl
                      Jeez.     That's      more'n        I've     heard     you say all
                      week.
     Grimsrud        stares    at him for         a beat,         then     turns    back to the windo~· .
     With a loud WHOOPCarl starts   and 1 ooks back out the rear w r.:i:n,.- .
     Fifty yard behind them a state  trooper  has jus: turned on h s
     gumballs.
     Carl    turns     the    car   onto    the    shou:d~r.
(_
                                                                                                                    28

                                                Carl
                    Ah shit,           the   tags ..
    Grimsrud       looks      at him .
                     . . . It's just the tags.    I never                         put my
                    tags on the car.    Don't worry, I'll                          take care
                    of this.

    He looks into the             back seat         as the        car bounces          and slows         on the
    gravel shoulder .
                    . . . Let's keep still back there,  lady, or
                    we're gonna have to, ya know, to shoot ya.
    Grimsrud       hasn't      moved.          He looks         slowly    over    at    Carl.
                                                Carl
                    Hey!       I'll      take    care      of this!
    Both cars       have      stopped.          Carl    looks      up at    the    rear     view        mirror.

    HIS POV
    In the mirror.   The trooper    is                     stopped on the          snowy shoulder                 jus~
    behind them, writing   something                       in  his citation         book.

    BACK TO CAR:..
    As he twists            around      in his     seat.        We hear    the    trooper's        door       open.


    HIS POV
    The trooper  is walking                  up the st.oulder,  one hand resting                         ligt.:ly
    on top of his holster,                   his breath vaporizing   in the cold                         nigtt
    air.
    Carl   looks     around           as the     trooper        app~ars    at his       windo',ir;.
                                                Carl
                    How can I help              you,    officer?
    The trooper scans the inside  of the car, taking his                                        time.
    Grimsrud smokes and gazes calmly out the window.
    Finally:
                                                Trooper
(
,...                                                                                                          29
                     This a new car then,              sir?
                                               Carl
                     It certainly        is,     officer.        Still    got that
                     smell!
                                     Trooper
                     You're required  to display temporary tags,
                     either in the plate area or taped inside the
                     back window.
                                               Carl
                     Certainly--
                                    Trooper
                     Can I see your license                 and registration
                     please?
                                               Carl
                     Certainly.
        Reaching    for his     wallet   .
                     . . . I was gonna tape up the temporary tag,
                     ya know, to be in full compliance,   but it wi,
                     it uh ...  must a slipped my mind ..
        He is extending his wallet               toward the trooper,             a fifty       dollar
        bill folded and protruding               from the billfold   .
                     . . . So maybe the best thing would be to take
                     care of that,  right here in Brainerd.
                                            Trooper
                     What's     this,    sir?
                                       Carl
                     That's my license     and registration.                     I wanna
                     be in compliance.
        He laughs    nervously     .
                     . . . I was just thinking   1 could                      take     care
                     of it right here.   In Brainerd.
        Grimsrud    looks     at him with narrowed              eyes.
        The policeman thoughtfully   pats th~ fifty                      into        the billfold       and
        hands the billfold  back into the car.
,,,..                                    Troope:-
                     Put that      back in your pock~:              please.
(_
                                                                                                                30
        The nervous        smile     fades     from Carl's          lips .
                        . . . And step          out of the car please,                sir.
        Grimsrud,       smiling      thinly,      shakes      his    head.
        There     is a whimpering            sound.
        The policeman        hesitates.
        Another     sound.
        The policeman        leans     forward         into   the    car,    listening.
        Grimsrud reaches across Carl, grabs the trooper                              by the hair          and
        slams his head down across the window sash.
        The policeman grunts,  digs                   awkwardly      for footing    outside,        throws
        an arm for balance against                    the outside       of the car.
        With his free hand Grimsrud pops the glove compartment.     He
        brings a gun out, reaches across Carl, and shoots--BAN~--point
        blank into the back of the trooper's  head.
        Jean    screams.
                                                Grimsrud
                        Shut up.
        He releases        the policeman.

        EXT.       CAR

        The policeman's  head slides                   out the window and his                body flops
        back onto the street.

        INT.       CAP.

        Carl    looks     out at the         cop in the road.
                                              Ca:-1
                                            (softlyi
                        Whoa . ..         Whoa Daddy .
        Grimsrud takes the trooper's                    hat off. cf Carl's           lap and sails
        out the open window.

,,,,.                   You'll
                                        Grimsrud
                               take care of it.
                        man, you know.
                                                                    Boy, are you smooth,
                                                                                                     31
                                         Carl
                 Whoa Daddy.
Jean,     for    acme reason,        screams       again.        Then stops.
Grimsrud        glances      in back,      then    looks    at Carl.
                                         Grimsrud
                 Clear     him off      the road.
                                         Carl
                 Yeah.
He gets     out.

THE ROAD
Carl leans         down to hoist up the body and is caught                       in the
headlights         of an approaching  car.

TRACKIN
on Grimsrud--his            eyes narrowing.

THE CAR
approaching,         slowing       down.

CARL

With the body hoiscej               halfway       up,   frozen     in the headlights        lik~     a
startled deer.

THE CAR
Accelerating         and roaring past and away. We just                        make cut th~
silhouettes         of two occupants  in the front sea:.

GRIMSRUD

Sliding   over into the drive~s seac.  He screams into                             a u-curr.,
the driver's   door slamming shut from the acceleration.
HIS POV
Small   red tail          lights    fishtail       ur ahead.        The car     churns    up fir.:
                                                                                      32
snow.

GRIMSRUD
Tares the cigarette   out of his mouth and stamps it out in his
ashtray.   We hear the churning of the car wheels and the pinging
of snow clods and salt on the car's underside.
In the back seat,          Jean   starts     screaming.

HIS POV
Not gaining        on the tail     lights.

GRIMSRUD
Fighting       with the wheel as his          car swims a little        on the road
face.

HIS POV
The red tail lights    start          to turn--with         a distant   crunching
sound, they disappear.
The headlights          only show empty road,           starting   to turn.
                                                    \


GRIMSRUD
Frowning.        He slows.

HIS POV
His headlights   show the car up ahead off the road, crumpled
around a telephon~ pole, having failed    to hold a turn.

GRIMSRUD
Hits     his   break.

JEAN
Slides     off   the back seat       and thumps into         the legwell.
                                                                                                 33
       GRIMSRUD

       Sweeps his       gun off   the front      seat,     throws    open his    door and gets
       out.

       EXTERIOR
       The wrecked car's headlights    shine off into a snowfield abutting
       the highway.    A young man in a down parka is limping across the
       snowfield,   away from the wrecked car.
       Grimsrud strides       calmly    out after         the injured     boy.   He raises      his
       gun and fires.
       With a poof of feathers          a hole     opens up in the boy's            back and he
       collapses  in the snow.
       Grimsrud    walks up next       to the prostrate            body and fires     again.
       He turns    and walks away.



,..    TF.E WRECK

       Grimsrud throws open the passenger  door. A young woman is
       trapped inside the twisted wreckage, badly injured.
(_
       LONGSHOT THE WRECK
       Snow swirls in the headlights  of th~ two cars.  Grimsrud is a .
       dark figure against  the snow. He raises  his gun and fires one
       shot into the wreck.


       AN OIL PAINTING
       Of a Blue-Winged Teal in flight  over a swampy marshland                       . The roo~
       in which ie hangs is dark.   We hea= snoring offscreen.
       We track ·off to reveal an easel upon which we see a half-
       completed- oil of a Grey Mallard .
       The continuing    track reveals   a couple in bed, sleeping . The rr.a~.
       fortyish,   pyjama-clad,   is big, and big-bellied.    His mout~ is
       agape.    He is snoring.     His arms ar~ flung over a woman in he~
       thirties,   wearing a nightie,    mouth also open, not snoring.

,,..   We hold    for    a long beat    on their         regular    breathing    and snoring.


(..
                                                                                                         - ----
                                                                                                             ..
                                                                                                             ~




                                                                                                    34
          The phone rings.
          The woman stirs.
                                                  Woman
                        Oh geez.
          She reaches        for the phone.
                                  Hi, it's        Marge.
          The man stirs,         clearing        his    throat     with a long deep rumble .
                        . . . Oh my.             Where? ...         Yah ...           Oh geez ...
          The man sits         up, gazes        stupidly       about .
                         . . . Okay.            There in a jif ...              Real good
                        then.
                                                                                                    '
          She hangs up, looks             at the man .

    ,,.                 Gotta
                                . You can sleep

                                  go?
                                                  Man
                                                           hon.     It's      early     yet.


(_
          She is getting         out of bed.
                                                  Marge
                        Yah.

          The man swings his             legs    out.
                                                  Man
                        I'll     fix     ya some eggs.
                                                  ~.arge
                        That's      okay,       hon.    I gotta       run.
                        ~~                        Man
                      -Gotta eat a breakfast,                    Marge.       I' 11 f i>: ya
                       some eggs.
                                                  Marge
                        Aw, you can sleep               hon.
                                                  Man
                        Ya gotta         eat    a breakfast.
          He clears     his     throat      with another          deep     rumble.
i
\
    ·,.
                                                                           35
                             . I'll     fix    ya some eggs.
                                               Marge
                     Aw, Norm.

       PLATE
       Leavings     of a huge plate            of eggs,   ham, toast.

       THE TABLE
       Marge is now dressed in a beige police uniform.       A patch on the
       a:rm says BRAINERDPOLICE DEPARTMENT. She also wears a heavy belt
       that holds a revolver,   walkie-talkie,   and various other jangling
       police impedimenta.    Norm is in a dressing   gown.
                                               Marge
                     Thanks hon.             Time to shove off.               ,.
                                                                              -~

                     Love ya, Margie.
                                               Norm                           .
                                                                              -:

I""'   As she struggles          into    a parka:
                                               Marge .
l                    Love ya,         hon.
       He is exiting back to the bedroom; sh: exits out the ·fron: door.
       For a beat we hold on the empty kitchen.   Then the front door
       opens again and Marge enters,  stamping snow off her boots.
                                               Marge
                     Hon?
       From off:
                                               Norm
                     Yah?
                                               Marge
                     Prowler      needs       a jump.


       HIGHWAY
       Dawn.      A police car pulls into the foreground and its driver door
       opens,     showing the s~al of the BRAINERDPOLICE DEPARTMENT.
       Marge gets     out.
(_
                                                                                         36

                                      Marge
              Hiya Lou.
Another     policeman       is approaching        holding     two coffees     in cardboard
cups.
                                   Lou
              Margie.       Thought you might need a little
              warm-up.
                             Marge
              Yah, thanks a bunch.               So what's the deal,
              now. Gary says triple               homicide?
                                     Lou
              Yah, looks       pretty bad.         Two of'm're     over
              here.
They trudge     toward       the w~eck.

WIDER
Laid out in -the early morning light is the wrecked car, a pair of
footprints  leading out to a man in a bright orange parka face
down in the blood-stained   snow, and one pair cf footsteps lead:r.~
back to the road.
                                     Marge
              A."1, geez.      So.
She looks     in the car .
              . . . Aw, geez.   Here's the second one.
              It's  in th~ head and the ...    hand ~~ere,                    I
              guess that's  a defensive wound. Okay.
Marge looks     up from th~ car .
                    . Where's        the state     trooper?
Lou jerks    -~is thumb.
                               Lou
              B~ck there a good piece.                In the ditch     next
              to his prowlex·.
Marge looks     around       at the road.
                               Marge
              Okay, so we got a troop@r pulls someone over,
              we got a shooting,   and these folks drive by,
                                                                                         37
            and we got a high-speed                pursuit,     ends here,
            and this execution-type                deal.
                                    Lou
            Yah.
                                 Marge
            I'd be very      surprised           if our suspect        was from
            Brainerd.
                                    Lou
            Yah.
Marge is studying     the ground           intently.
                           Marge
            Yah. And I'll   tell you what, from his
            footprint he looks like a big fella--
Marge suddenly doubles        over putting             her head between      her knees
down near the snow.                                                                      ....,

                                    Lou
            Ya see something          down there,          Chief?
                                Marge
            Uh--1 just,      I think I"m gonna barf.
                             Lou
            Geez,   you okay Margie?
                                    Marge
            I'm fine--it's          just morning          sickness--
She gets   up,   sweeping    snow from her knees.
                    Well,    that     passed.
                                    Lou
            Yah?
                           ?l.arge
            Yah. Now I'm hungry again.
                                    Lou
            You had breakfast             yet,    Margie?
                                    Marge-
            Oh yah.    Norm made some eggs.
                             Lou
            Yah?    Well what now d'ya                 think?
                                                                                         38

                                   Marge
            Let's     go take     a look at that      trooper.


BY THE STATE TROOPER'S CAR
Marge's   prowler     is parked     nearby.
Marge is on her hands and knees by a body down in the ditch,
again looking at footprints in the snow.  She calls up to the
road:
                               !'.i.arge
            There's     two of 'em, Lou!
                                  Lou
            Yah?

                                  Marge
            Yah, this     guy's    smaller    than    his    buddy.

DOWNIN THE DITCH
Ir. the foreground is the head of the state  trooper, facing us;
peering at it from behind,  still on her hands an:: knees, is
!'.i.arge.
                                Marge
            Fer Pete's     sake ...
She gets up, clapping        the snow off      her hands,        and climbs     o~: c!
the ditch.
                                  Lou
            Ho~•s it     look,    Marge?
                           Marge
            Well he's got his gun on his hip there,                     and
            he looks like a nice enough guy.   !t's                    a real
            shame.
                                   Lou
            Yah.
                                   Murg-:
            You haven't      monkeyed wi:h      his    car    t~ere,     have
            ya?
                                   Lou
            Ne way.
                                                                                                    39

          She is looking       at the prowler,          which still      idles   on the shoulder.
                                       Marge
                       Somebody cut his lights.                I guess    the little
                       guy sat in there, waitin'               for his    buddy
                       t'come back.
                                       Lou
                       Yah, woulda been cold out here.
                                           Marge
                       Heck yah.       Ya think, is Dave open yet?
                                               Lou
                       You don't      think     he's    mixed up in--
                                               Marge
                       No no, I just          wanna get Norm some night
                       crawlers.




,...      PROWLER
          Marge is driving;        Lou sits      next      to her.
(_                                             Marge
                       You look     in his      citaticn      book?
                                               Lou
                       Yah . .
          He: looks   at his     notebook.
                                          Lou
                       Last vehicle     he wrote in was a blue Cierra at
                       2:18 A.M.      Under the plate number he put DLR
                       so I got the state lookin'     for a Ci~rra with
                       a tag startin'     DLR. They don't got no match
                       yet.
                                               Marg~
                       Uh-huh.
                                           Lou
                       I figure     they stopped           hi~ or shot him before
                       he could     finish  fillin         ' out the tag number.
                                      Marge
                       I'm not sure I agree with you a hunnert
                       percent on your policework there, Lo~.
(
\ .....
                                                                                             40

                                        Lou
                     Yah?

                                     Marge
                     Yah, I think that vehicle        there   probly     had
                     dealer plates.   DLR?

                                        Lou
                     Oh.
       Lou gazes     out the window, thinking.
                            Geez.
                                      Marge
                     Yah. Say Lou, ya hear the one 'bout the guy
                     he couldn't  afford personalized plates, so he
                     went and changed his name to J2L 4685?
                                        Lou
                     Yah that's     a good one.
                                        Marge
                     Yah.

       THE ROAD
       The police     car enters with a whoosh and hums on into the
       background     along a straight-ruled   empty highway, cutting              througt
       a landscape      of flat and perfect  white.



       EMBERS FAMILY RESTAURANT

       Jerry,  Wade, and Stan Grossman sit in a booth              sipping       coffe~.
       Outside the window snow falls  from a gunmetal              sky.
                                       Wade
                     --All's    I know is, ya got a problem,           ya call
                     a professional!
                                        Jerry
                     No! They said      no cop~~ They were darned
                     clear on that,     Wade! They said you call your
                     cops and we--

,...                                 Wade
                     Well a course they•r~
                     where's my protectior.:•
                                                  g~r.~a say that!
                                                      7hey got Jean
                                                                         But
                                                                         here!
i
\..
                                                                                   41

                  I give these sons a bitches    a million
                  dollars,  where's my guarantee   they're            gonna
                  let her go?!
                                            Jerry
                  Well,      they--
                                            Wade
                  A million      dollars  is a lot a damn money!             And
                  there      they are, they got my daughter!
                                  Jerry
                  Yah, but, think this thing through here Wade,
                  ya give 'em what they want, why won't they
                  let her go!   You gotta listen to me on this
                  one Wade.
                                   Wade
                  Heck, you don't know! You're just whistlin'
                  Dixie here!   I'm sayin',  the cops, they can
                  advise us on this!    I'm sayin' call a
                  professional!
                                 Jerry
,...
i
                  No! No cops!   That's final!
                  here, Wade! Jean is my wife
                                                         This
                                                        here!
                                                                is my deal


C                                  Stan
                  I gotta tell ya, Wade, I'm leanir.'           to Jerry's
                  viewpoint  here.
                                            Wade
                  Well--
                                   Stan
                  We gotta protect    Jean. These--we're          not
                  holdin'  any cards here, Wade, ttey           go:    all    o~
                  'em . So they call the shots.
                                          Jerry
                  You're      darn    tootin'   !

                                            Wade
                  Ah, damnit!
                                            Stan
                  I'm tellin'         ya.
                                       Wade:
                  Well ...        Why don't we .
       He saws a finger       under    his     nose .

l
                                                                                42
           ...       Stan, I'm thinkin'          we should     offer   'em
           half     a million.
                           Jerry
           Now come on here, no way, Wade!                   No way!
                                Stan
           We're     not horse-trading      here Wade, we just
           gotta     bite the bullet      on this thing.
                                 Jerry
           Yah!
                                 Stan
           What's     the next    step   here,     Jerry?
                           Jerry
           They're gonna call,   give me instructions for
           a drop.   I'm supposed to have the money ready
           tomorrow.
                                 Wade
           Damnit.

THE CASHIER
As she rings      up $2.40.
                            Cashier
           How was everything    today?
Jerry hands her money as behind           him, Wade and Stan Grossman        shrus
into parkas and pull on mittens.
                               Jerry
           Yah, real      good now.


PARKINGLOT
Snow continues to fall.   Jerry,  and Stan stand bundled up in
their parkas and galoshes  next to their beached vehicles.      Wade
sits behind the wheel of an idling   Lincoln waiting  for Stan.
                           Stan
           Okay. We'll get the money together.    Don't
           worry about it, Je=ry.   Now, d'you want
           anyone at home, with you, til they call?
                                 Jerry
    ,..
    !
                      No, I--they   don"t want--they"re just s'posed
                                                                                                           43


                      to be dealin'   with me, they were real clear.
                                              Stan
                      Yah.

          Jerry   pounds   his    mittened     hands    together         against     the     cold.
                                       Jerry
                      Ya know, they said no one listenin'   in,
                      they'll  be watchin'   ya know. Maybe it's     all
                      bull but like you said, Stan, they're     callin'
                      the shots.
                                           Stan
                      Okay.       And Scotty,   is he gonna be all                  right?
                                              Jerry
                      Yah, geez,         Scotty.    I'll       go talk     to him.
          There is a tap at the horn from Wade and S.tan gets                            into    the
          Lincoln.
                                              Stan
                      We'll      call.
          The Lincoln spits snow as it grinds                   out of the         lot   and fishtails
          out onto the snowy boulevard .


          SCOTTY'S BEDROOM
          He lies on the bee, weeping.                Je:-ry    enters     and sits        uncomfortably
          on the edge of the bed.
                                          Jerry
                                 How ya doin' there,            Scotty?
                                      Scott
                      Dad! What're they doing?                   Wuddya think
                      they're doin ◄ with   Mom?
                                       Jerry
                      It's  okay, Scotty.    They're not gonna want to
                      hurt her any.    These men, they just want
                      money, see.
                                             Scott
                      What if ...          what if     sump~ goes wrong?
                                              Jerry
I

\ .._
                                                                                                      44

                      No, no, nothin's   goin' wrong here.                   Granddad
                      and I we•re--we're   ma.kin' sure this                 gets
                      handled right.
        Scott    snorfles      and   sits   up.
                                             Scott
                      Dad, I really         think we should       call     the      cops.
                                      Jerry
                      No! We can't let anyone know about this
                      thing!  We gotta play ball with these guys--
                      you ask Stan Grossman, he'll  tell ya the same
                      thing!
                                             Scott
                      Yeah, but--
                                         Jerry
                      We"re gonna get Momback for ya, but we gotta
                      play ball.    It's    a hard row ta hoe but ...
                      Now if Lorraine     calls,  or Sylvia, you just
                      say that Mom is in Florida with P~arl and
                      Marty- -
        Scotty    starts    to weep again.           Jerry   stares      silently      down at his
        lap.
                                             Jerry
                      That's     the best     we can do here ....



        EXT CABIN
        A lakeside   cabin       surrounded by white.            A blue      Cierra         w:~h dea~e~
        plates   is pulling       into the drive.
        Grimsrud climbs out of the passenger  seat as Carl climbs out the
        other side.   Grimsrud opens the back doo::- and, with ar. am. :::-: h-::·
        elbow, helps Jean out.   She has her hands tiec behind he:.· ba::k,
        and a black hood over her head.
        With a muffled cry she swings her elbow out. of Grimsrud's    gras~
        and · lurches away across the snow of the front lawn.   Grimsrud
        moves to retrieve   her, but Carl, grinning,  lays a hand on his
        shoulder to stop him.
                                             Carl
,_,..                 Hold it.
,,.                                                                                                          45

        They both look          out at      the    front         lawn,    Grimsrud     expressionless,
        Carl grinning.
        With muffled   cries the hooded woman lurches    across the unbroken
        snow, staggering    this way and that, stumbling    on the uneven
        terrain.
        She stops,      stands     still,         her hooded head swaying.
        She lurches    out again,   in an arbitrary                         direction.       She is going
        downhill,   reels,  staggers,   falls   face                      first     in the   snow, with
        muffled weeping.
                                                  Carl
                       Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!                  Jesus!
        Grimsrud,      still  expressionless,                    breaks     away from Carl's
        restraining       hand to retrieve                her.



        BRAINERDPOLICE HQ
        We track      behind     Marge as she makes her way across the floor
        greeting      various     officers.  She holds a small,  half-full paper
        sack.
        Beyond her we see a smail glassed-in     cubicle.  Norm sits                                at the
        desk inside   with a box lunch spread out in front of him.                                   The
        following   is lettered on the cubicle's   glass door:
                                   BRAINERD P.O.
                                  CHIEF GUNDERSON
        Marge enters    ands sits down behind the desk, detachir.?.                               her wa:kie
        from he~ utility    belt to accomodate the seat.
                                                  Marge
                       Hiya hon.
        She slides      the     paper    sack      toward         him.
                                        Nomi
                       Brought ya some lunch.                     Margie.      What're
                       those,  night crawlers?
        He looks      inside.
        The bottom      of the     sack      is    full      o! !at,        crawling     earthworms.
                                                  iv..arge
i
\. ..
                                                                                  46

               Yah.

                                     Norm
               Thanks hon.
                               Marge
               You bet.   Thanks for lunch.                What do we got
               here, Arbie's?
                                     Norm
               Uh-huh.
She starts      eating.
                                   Marge
               ...        How's the paintin'          goin'?
                                Norm
               Pretty good.   Found out the Hauptmann's                     are
               entering a painting   this year.
                                     Marge
              Aw hon, you're         better'n    them.
                                     Norm
               They're      real   good.
                                   Marge
               They're      good, Norm, but you're              the best.
He leans      over and kisses        her.
                                     Norm
               Thanks hon.
                              Marge
               Ahh, ya got Arbie's  all          o'er      me.
Lou enters.
                               Lou
               Hiya Norm, how's the painting                   goin'?
                                     Norm
               Not too bad.
                                     Marge
               How we doin'        on that vehicle?
                              Lou
               Blue Cierra, dealer          plates,       none of the
               motels had one last          night.        But--the night
                                                                                                   47

                    before--two  men checked into the Blue OX
                    registering  a Cierra and leavin' the tag
                    space blank.
                                             Marge
                    Geez,     that's       a good lead.    The Blue Ox,
                    that's      that     trucker's   joint out there on I-
                    35?
                                               Lou
                    Yah.
                                               Marge
                    Geez.



       A   TROPHY
       It is a silver  trophy  topped by a silver tractor-trailer; it is
       inscribed  to THE BLUE ox MOTELfrom the U.S.A. TRUCKER'S HOST
       ~.SSOCIATION.

       A finger   taps     at it.
                                       Voice
                    Yeah, third year in a row we won for I-35
                    establishments.      Woulda been five years, but
                    four years ago they give it to the Brainerd
                    Ramada.     I suspect some money changed hands.
       We are tracking        along      the hote:•s      receptior.     desk.
                                               Marge's   Voice
                    Geez,     ya think?
                                            Voice
                    Yeah, well          I could be w~ong on tha:.
                                               Marge's Voice
                    Any rate,          those    two fellas--
                                               Voice
                    Yah, I remember             'em, here night        before    last. ...
       The track has found the owner of the voice,                       a burly     man restin~
       his elbows on the desk .
                             . And they        had co~pany.

!
'-._
                                                                                            48


      BOWLINGALLEY
      We are on a mezzanine overlooking     the bowling alley . . Vending
      machines that dispense   coffee,  cigarettes,   potato chips, etc.
      line the opposite  wall.
      Marge     is    sitting at a small iron           table     next   to the mezzanine
      railing        with two young women.
                                             Marge
                       Where you girls        from?
                                             Hooker One
                       Chaska .
                                       Hooker Two
                       LeSeure.   But I went to High School                   in White
                       Bear Lake.
                                           Marge
                       Okay,      I want you to tell            me what these
                       fellas     looked like.

,,.
I                      Well ...
                                            One
                                      the little      guy, he was kinda          funny-
                       looking.
(
                                             Marge
                       In what way?
                                             One
                       I dunno.       Just   funny looking.
                                      Marge
                       Can you be any more specific?
                                             One
                       I couldn't      really    say.    He wasn't
                       circumcised.
                                       Marge
                       Was he funny looking apart               from that?
                                             One
                       Yah.
                                       Marge
                       So you were having sex with               the little      fella,
                       then.
                                             One
•
t
f                                                                                       . .1=:
                                                                                                  ·-:.~- ·:,_. -   -=

•
I                                                                                            ..
                                                                                       . .. .,,
r                                                                                                        •.:




'lr                                                                                                   ◄9

      Uh-huh.
                             Marge                                          -
      Is there     anything      else      you can tell             me about
      him?                                                                  __..,,..

                      One
      No. Like I say he was funny                        looking.       More•n
      most people even.
                             Marge
      And what about         the other          fella?
                             Two
      He was a little         older.        Looked liked              the
      Marlboro man.
                             Marge
      Yah?

                    Two
      Yah. Maybe I'm sayin'                that      'cause         he smoked
      Marlboros.
                             Marge
      Uh-huh.
                             Two
      A subconscious         type      thing.
                         Marge
      Yah, that     can happen.
                             Two
      Yah.
                             One
      They said     they     were goin'           to the      Twin Cities.
                             Marge
      Oh yah?
                             Two
      Yah.
                             One
      Yah.      Is that     useful      to ya?
                              Marge
      Oh you bet,         yah.
                                                                                                   so

      FADE IN FROMWHITE
      THE LAKE

      A blanket  of snow covers the frozen lake.                     The white is broken
      only by the odd ice-fish~ng  hut, each with                    a car parked nearby.
      There   are    also    a few isolated       houses    spread     along     the   shore.

      EXT HAUS
      A lakeside      cabin.       A Ciera    with dealer     plates     is parked        in the
      drive.

      INT HAUS
      TRACKINGIN
      on Jean Lundegaard,     who sits tied in a chair with                      a black hood
      over her head.    As we track in we hear inarticulate                        cursing,
      intermittent   banging,   and loud static.

      TRACKINGIN
      on Gaear Grimsrud,   who sits             smoking a cigarette            and
      expressionlessly   watching.

      TRACKINGIN
      on Carl Rolvaag, who stands over an old black-and-white
      television  which plays nothing but snow, banging on its                            top,
      muttering  to himself:
                                      Carl
                     ...   days.     . be here for           days with a--
                     DAMNIT!--a goddamn mute ...              nothin' to do .
                     . and the fucking--DAMNI7!.
      The "damnits"         are   accompanied     by fist    slams     on the TV set .
                      • . . TV doesn't   even ...           plug     me in, man .
                      . Gimme a--DAMNIT!--signal.             ..     Plug me in to
                     the ozone, baby ...

      TRACKINGIN CLOSER
,-.   on Jean      in the black      hood,    as~~~ ~~rses         and banging         continue
      off.
,,.                                                                                              51

                   Plug me into       the ozone--FUCK! ...
      With one last        bang we cut:

      BACYTO THE TELEVISION SET
      In extreme     close-up    an insect        is lugging         a worm.
                                   TV Voice-Over
                   The bark beetle carries   the worm to the nest.
                       where it will feed its young for up to
                   six weeks.
      A pull   back from the screen          reveals          that   we are in    Marge's
      house.
      Marge and Norm are in the bedroom, in bed, watching                         television.
      ~rom the TV we hear the sound of insects  chirring.
      After a long beat, silent            except      for the TV, Marge says,           still
      looking at the set:
                                        Marge
                             Well,   I'm turnin'        in,     Norm.
      Also looking     at the TV:
                                          Norm
                             Okay hon.

      LATER

      The bedroom is dark.           Norm is snoring.                The phone rings.
      Marge gropes     in the dark.         Finally.
                                          Marge
                   Hello?
                                       Voic~
                   Yah, is this       Marge?
                                          Marge
                   Yah?

                                          Voice
                   Margie Olmstead?
                                         Marge
                      ..     Well,   yah.   Who's this?
                                                                                       52

                                    Voice
                    This is Glen Yanagita.   Ya know--Glen
                    Yanagita.   Remember me?
                                       Marge
                              Glen Yanagita!
                                              Glen
                    Yah!
       Marge sits       up a little      next    to the still     sleeping     Norm.
                                            Marge
                    Yah, yah,         'course  I remember.        How are ya?
                    What time         is it?
                                     Glen
                    Oh, gee%.  It .'s a quarter           to eleven.         I hope
                    I dint wake you.
                                            Marge
                    No, that's         okay.
                                    Glen
                    Yah, I'm down in the Twin Cities  and I was
.,-.                just watching on TV about these shootings
                    in Brainerd,
                                                                up
                                  and I saw you on the news there.
                                              Marge
                    Yah.
                                       Glen
                    I thought,   geez, is that           Margie    Olmstead?     I
                    can't believe    it!
                                              Marg':
                    Yah, that's         me.
                                   Glen
                    Well how the heck are ya?
                                   Marge
                    Okay, ya know, okay.
                                              Glen
                    Yah?!
                                        Marge
                    Yah--how      are you doon?
                                            Glen
                    Oh, pretty         good.
                                                                                                      53

                                     Marge
                      Heck, its been such a long time,                   Glen.
                      It's great to hear from ya.
                                          Glen
                      Yah ...       Yah, yah.  Geez Margie!



     LOWSHOT THE ROAD

     It    is great     grey northern        dawn.

     The blue     Cierra        whooshes    into     frame,    the only car on the road.

     SHOTGUNHOUSE
     Gaear Grimsrud             opens the front       door and enters.             It    is very early
     morning.



,.   INSIDE THE HOUSE
     We follow him as he goes to the living room. He stoops down nea~
     a large Sony Trinitron    TV and unplugs it.   He puts both hands
C    under the TV and straightens,    grunting under its weight.
     A    young woman is entering,            knotting        the belt     of her bathrobe.
                                            Woman
                            . Gaear?       What're you doeen?!
     A three-year-old   boy in dirty flannel pyjamas clutches  at he~ le~
     and looks up at Grimsrud.     He is wordlessly trying to squeeze
     past,    with the TV, the woman at the door .
                      . . . · Put that down! Where're my checks?!
                      You're behind two checks, you sonofabitch!
                      Put that do~!
     She starts    batting at him. He tucks hi-s chin down and hunch~s
     his head away from the blows, walking down the hall.     She
     follows,   kicking at him .
                         . . You fuckeen           asshole!     Put that         down!

     OUTSIDE THE HOUSE
     Gaear bangs         out the front       door,      :~e young woman still              swatting   a:
,..   his     back.    She does not          follow        him out into    the    snow.
                                                                                                    54



      As he awkwardly            gropes for the car's            back doorhandle,         she screams
      at him from just            inside the house:
                                     Woman
                      You owe me money you fuckeen                 fuck!
      The child       clutching          at her leg        is now weeping .
                      . . . You selfish fuckeen asshole!    What is
                      Kyle supposed to watch?   Your own flesh and
                      blood!
      The child       screams      hysterically        .
                      . . . What is Kyle supposed                 to watch?!
      The child       shrieks.



      WADEGUSTAFSONOLDS
      Jerry     is on the        sales     floor   showing      a customer       a vehicle.
                                         Jerry
                      Yah, ya got yer, this is loaded her~. this
                      has yer independent,      uh, yer slipped
                      differential,     uh, yer rack-and-pinion
                      steering,     yer alarm and radar,    and I can give
                      it to ya with a heck of a sealant,        this
                      Trucoat stuff,      it'll keep the salt off--
                                              Customer
                      Yah, I don't          need no sealant         though.
                                        Jerry
                      Yah, you don't need that . Now were you
                      thinking   of financing here? You oughta be
                      aware a this GMACplan they have now, it's
                      really   super--
                                          Another Salesman
                      Jerry,      ya got a call here.
                                               Jerry
                      Yah, okay.

      JERRY'S CUBICLE
                                                                                       55

       As he sits    in and picks          up his phone .
                                          Jerry
                    Jerry      Lundegaard.
                                           Voice
                    All right,       Jerry,   you got this        phone to
                    yourself?
                                            Jerry
                    Well ...        yah.
                                            Voice
                    Know who this          is?
                                   Jerry
                    Well, yah I got an idea.               How's that    Cierra
                    workin' out for ya?
                                            Voice
                    Circumstances          have chang~d,       Jerry .
                                        Jerry
                    Well,      what do ya mean?
                                    Voice
                    Things have changed.     Circumstances, Jerry.
                    Beyond the, uh ...    acts of God, force majeure.
                                            Jerry
                    What the--how's          Jean?
       A beat.
                                     Carl
                       . . Who's Jean?
                                         Jerry
                    My wife!        What the--ho~•s--
                                     Carl
                    Oh Jean's  okay.   But therE'S three people                   up
                    in Brainerd who are~•t so okay, I'll    tell                  ya
                    that.
                                            Jerry
                    Wha~ the heck're           you talkin'  about?       Let's
                    ju   finish  this          deal up here--
                                   Carl
                    Blood has been shed,             ~~~~y .


(
'--·
,,..                                                                                           56

       Jerry   sits    dumbly.      The voice         solemly   repeats:
                      ...      Blood has been shed.
                                     Jerry
                      What the heck d 'ya .nean"'
                                              Carl
                      Three people.           In Brainerd.
                                              Jerry
                      Oh geez .
                                              Carl
                      That's    right.        And we need more money.
                                     Jerry
                      The heck d'ya mean? What a you guys got
                      yourself mixed up in?
                                              Carl
                      We need more--
                                              Jerry
                      This was s'posed           to be a no rough stuff                 type
                      deal--
                                      Carl
                      DON'T .EVER INTERRUPT ME JERRY!                   JUST SHUT THE
                      FUCK UP!

                                              Jerry
                      Well,    I ' m sorry,      but I just ...          I ...
                                      Carl
                      Look.   I'm not gonna debate you, Jerry. The
                      price is now the whole amount.   w~want the
                      entire  eighty thousand.
                                           Jerry
                      Oh for Christ       sakes here--
                                      Carl
                      Blood has been shed.  We've incurred  risks,
                      Jerry.  Have the m~ney ready.   I'm coming
                      into town tomorrow.
                                     Jerry
                      Now we had a deal here!                A deal's      a deal!
                                              Carl
                      IS IT, JERRY?!           You ask those       three         poor
                                                                                                 57

                 souls up in Brainerd                if   a deal's   a deal!       Go
                 ahead, ask 'em!
                                Jerry
                 . . . The heck d' ya mean?
                                  Carl
                 I'll   see you tomorrow.
       Click.
       Jerry slams down the phone and immediately                    it   rings    again.   He
       angrily  snatches it up.
                                           Jerry
                 Yah!
                                 Voice
                 Jerome Lundegaard?
                                           Jerry
                 Yah!

_,..                             Voice
                 This is Reilly Deifer.bach at GMAC. Sir,                         I
                 have not yet received   those vehicle IO's                       you
l                promised me.
                                            Jerry
                 Yah!     I ...          those are in the mail.'
                                 Voice
                 Mr. Lundegaard,  that very well -may be. I mus~
                 inform you however that absent the receipt     of
                 those numbers by tommorrow afternoon    I will
                 have to refer this matter to our legal
                 department.
                                           Jerry
                 Yah.
                                        Voice
                 My patience         is at an end.
                                           Jerry
                 Yah.

                                           Voice
,.,.
'
                 Good day,        sir.
                                           Jer-::y
                        . Yah.
l
                                                                                                 58


WIDE       THE SHOWROOM

We are looking at Jerry's   cubicle  from across the showroom. With
the noise muted we watch him slam down the receiver,      rise to his
feet,  fling the phone to the floor,    raise his desk blotter   high
over his head with pens and pencils     rolling  off it, and slam it
onto his desktop.
He stands      for     a moment, hands on his         hips,    glaring.
He then     stoops      and picks up the phone, places it                 back on the
desktop,      starts     picking up the pens and pencils.



TRACK
On steam-table bins of food, each identified with a pla~Je: BEEF
STROGANOFF,SWEDISHMEATBALLS,BROILED TORSK, CHICKEN FLORENTINE.

COMPLEMENTARY
           TRACK
On a tray being pushed           along     a buffet    line.      It   is piled          higr.
with many foods.

MARGEAT A TABLE
Lost in thought,  her salad             plate piled high with             a veritatl':
Annapurna of greens,  meats             and hct vegetab:es.
A hip with      a hissing      walkie    enters     frame and ~~rge          looks~~-
                                    Gary
               How ya doin',      Margie.         Ho~•s the     fricasee?
                                   Marg1:
               Pretty     darn ·good, ya wa~t some?
                                    Gary
               No, I gotta--where's          Norn.?
                                 Marg'=
               He went ice-fishing     up at M:lle             Lacs.
               Whatcha got there?
He hands     her a flimsy.
                                    Gary
                                                                                             59
                         The numbers y•asked for, calls made from the
                         lobby pay phone at the Blue Ox. Two to
                         Minneapolis that night.
             She looks   at the paper.
                                            Marge
                         Mn.

                                           Gary
                         First one's a trucking         company,          second     one's
                         a private  residence.
                                             Marge
                            ..     Yah, okay, I think     I'll          drive   down
                         there.
                                            Gary
                         Oh yah?
                                          Marge
                         Yah, why not.    Haven't       been to the Twin
                         Cities a while .
.   ,,,...
    (._      KITCHENOF LUNDEGAARD
                                HOUSE

             Jerry,   Wade, and Stan Grossman sit around the kitchen table.      !:
             is night.    The scene is harshly toplit  by a hanging fixture.     Or.
             the table are the remains of coffee and a cinammon filbert      ring.
                                            Wade
                         Damnit!      I wanna be part     a this          thing!
                                         Jerry
                         No, Wade! They were real clear!     They saia
                         they'd call tomorrow, with instruc~io~s,    and
                         it's  gotta be delivered by me alone!
                                        Wade
                         It's my money, 1..:1.l deliver           it--what         do they
                         care?
                                        Stan
                         Wade's got a poin: the~e.               I'll     handle     the
                         call if you want, Jerry .
                                           Jerry
                         No no, see--they,     no. seP they only deal with
                         me. Ya feel this,       thi~ nervousness on the
                                                                                           60

                   phone there,               they're       very--these    guys're
                   dangerous--
                                    Wade
                   All the more reason!     I don't want you--with
                   all due respect,  Jerry--l   don't wan~ you
                   mucking this up.
                                                Jerry
                   The heck d'ya               mean?!
                                  Wade
                   They want my money, they can deal with me.
                   Otherwise I'm goin' to a professional.
      He points    at a briefcase              .
                       . . . There's           a million        dollars   here!
                                                   Jerry
                   No, see--
                                   Wade
,..                Look Jerry, you're not sellin"
                   It's my show here.   That's that.
                                                     me a damn car.

                                        Stan
l                      It's   the way we prefe=               to handle    it,    Je~ry.



      THE DOWNTOWN
                 RADISSON
      ~~rge    is at the reception                  desk.
                                       Marge:
                       Hi, how ya doin'?
                                             Clerk
                       Real good,       how're you today ma'am?
                                                Marge:
                       Real good.            I'm Mrs. G.;:1d-:rson,       I have     a
                       reservation.
      Typing    into      a computer          console :
                                                   Clerk
                       You sure       do ,
                                                   Marg-:
                                                                                                      61
                      Is there       a phone down here            ya think?

     LOBBYCORNER
     Marge is       on a public           phone.
                                        Marge
                          . Detective    Sibert?    Yah, this is Marge
                     Gunderson from up Brainerd,        we spoke-- ...
                     Yah.   I just wanted to let you know I'm in
                     town now ...      Yah, thanks a bunch, you uh,
                     you were gonna run a check for me on Mr.
                     Proudfoot ...      Yah ...   Yah ...    No, I can
                     find that ...      Well thanks a bunch. Say,
                     d'you happen to know a good place for lunch
                     in the downtown area? ...        Yah, the Radisson .
                      . . Oh yah?     Is it reasonable?



     A GREEN FREEWAYSIGN
,.   Pointing
     A tilt
                    to the
                down reveals
                              exit       'for the MINNEAPOLIS INTERNATIONALAIRPOR7.
                                      Carl    behind       the wheel     of the     Ciera   takin~   the
l    turn.
     Ar. airport       sign   reads        LONGTERM PARKING
     Ca=l takes        a ticket          and drives       up the parking       ramp.

     THE      ROOFTOP
     As Carl drives up and stops.                        There   are   only   a few sno~-ccve~e=
     cars on the windswept rooftop.
     Carl gets out of his car with a screwdriver,    quickly  s::a~s tr-.~
     lot,   then kneels down in the snow at. the back o: a parked ca:: a:-.::
     starts    unscrewing the license plate.

     THE EXIT BOOTH
     As Carl       pulls   up and hands            the    attendant     his   ticket.
                                               Attendant
                     That's       four     dollars.
                                               Carl
                                                                                                   62
                  No, I just       came in.          I decided       not to park
                  here.
                                 Attendent
                  What do you mean you decided                     not to park
                  here?
                                  Carl
                  I decided not to--I•m               uh, I'm not taking            the
                  trip as it turns out.
                                           Attendent
                  I'm sorry,       sir,     I have to charge            you the     four
                  dollars.
                                           Carl
                  I just pulled           in here.      I   just     fucking     pulled
                  in here!
                                     Attendant
                  Sir, there's    a minimUIT',charge of four
                  dollars.     Long-term parking charges by the
                  day.
      A car behind     beeps.      Carl     glances     back,       starts     digging     for money.
                                    Carl
                  I guess you think, ya know, you're an
                  authority figure.      With that stupid fucking
                  uniform.  Huh buddy?
      The attendant.    doesn't     say anything        .
                  . . . King Clip-On            Tie here.           Big fucking
                  man.
      He is peeling     off     one dollar      bills   .
                   . . . You know, these are the limits     of~
                  life,    man. Ruler of your little   fucking gat~
                  here.     There's your four dolla~s.    You
                  pathetic    piece of shit.



      GARAGE AREA

      Jerry is staring     up, mouth agap~. at the underside of a car on?.
      hydraulic  lift.     Bewildered, he looks about, then asks a mecha~::
,-.   passing by, his     voice raised over the din of the shop:
,..
l
                                                                                                         63

                                                         Jerry
                              ...       Where's         Shep?
             The mechanic           points.
                                                     Mechanic
                           Talkin'            to a cop.
             Jerry   looks.
                                                         Jerry
                              ...       Cop?
             Marge and Shep face                each other        at the other    end of the   floor   in a
             grimey and cluttered                glassed-in        cubicle.
                                                 Mechanic
                           Said        she was a policewoman.
             Marge and Shep silently                    talk.
             Jerry   stares,         swallows.


r            INSIDE THE CUBICLE
    l.                                                fo'..arge
                           --Wednesday            nigh~?
             Shep is    shaking         his     head.
                                                         Shep
                           Nope.
                                            Marge
                           Well you do reside   there                 at   1425   Fremont
                           Terra ·ce'?
                                                         Shep
                           Yep.
                                                      Marge
                           Anyone else            residing  ttere?
                                                         Shep
                           Nope.
                                           Marge
                           Well Mr. Proudfoot,   this call came in past
                           three in the morning,    :t's just hard for me
                           to believe  you can't   ~~me~ber anyone calling.
    (   __
                                                                                                  64

        Shep says nothing        .
                      . . . Now I know you've had some problems,
                      struggling     with the narcotics,    some other
                      entanglements,     currently   on parole--
                                              Shep
                      So?
                                       Marge
                      Well associating    with criminals,   if you're
                      the one they talked to, that right there
                      would be a violation    of your parole and would
                      end you up back in Stillwater.
                                              Shep
                      Uh-huh.
                                     Marge
                      Now, l saw some rough stuff on your priors,
                      but nothing in the nature of a homicide ...
        Shep stares     at her .
                         . . I~           you don't      want to be an
                      accessory        to something      like that.
                                              Shep
                      Nope.
                                     Marge
                      So you think you might remerr~er who those
                      folks were who called ya?



        JERRY'S OFFICE
        Jerry is worriedly           pacing    behind    his    desk.   At a noise   he   le~~~
        abruptly up.
        Marge has stuck         her head in his         door.
                                              Marge
                      Mr.    Lundegaard?
                                              Jerry
                                           (tensely!
                      Huh?      Yah?
                                              Marg~
(
'--..
                                                                                                  65

                   I wonder if I could                  take       just     a minute     of
                   your time here--
                                            Jerry
                   What ...            What is it          all     about?
                                          Marge
                   Huh?          Do you mind if I sit                down--I'm         carrying
                   quite         a load here.
     Marge plops            down in the chair           opposite           him .
                              . You're        the owner here,              Mr. Lundegaard?
                                            Jerry
                   Naw, I ...            Executive          Sales         Manager.
                                    Marge
                   Well~      can help me, my name's                          Marge
                   Gunderson--
                                                Jerry
,.                 My


                   Uh-huh.
                             father-in-law,
                                    Marge
                                                    he's

                            Well I'm a police cfficer
                                                                 the owner.

                                                             from up
                   Brainerd investigating      some malfeasance   and I
                   was just wondering if you"ve had any new
                   vehicles stolen off the lot in the past
                   couple a weeks--specifically      a blue Cutlass
                   Cierra?
     Jerry   stares          at her,     his mouth open.
                                 M:'. Lundegaard?

                                                Jerry
                                 Brainerd?
                                                Marge
                   Yah. Yah.              Home a Paul Bunyar. and Babe The
                   Blue Ox.
                                          Jerry
                      ...        Babe The Blue Ox?
                                                Marge
                   Yah, ya know we've got the big                             statue  there.
                   So you haven't had any v~hicles                             go missing
                   then?
                                                Jerry
                                                                                             66
            No.     No ma ' am.

                            Marge
            Okey-dokey, thanks a bunch, I'll                  let   you get
            back to your paperwork then.
As Marge rises   Jerry     locks     blankly    down at the papers            on the desk
in front   of him.
                                   Jerry
            Yah, okay.
He looks up at Marge's retreating back.                   He looks     back down at
the papers.  He looks over at the phone.
He picks   up the phone and dials            four   digits.
                             Jerry
                   Yah, gimme Shep ...       The heck d"ya
            mean?       . Well where'd he go?--it's       only--
                   No, I don't n~ed a mechanic--oh,       geez--
            I gotta talk to a friend of his, so uh ...
            have him, uh . ..    oh geez ...



HOTEL BAR
Marge is entering.     She looks around the bar, which is a rathe~
characterless   lowlit  meeting place for business types.
                                   Voice
            Marge?!
It is a bald paunching man of about Marge's age, rising      fro~                        a
semicircular     booth halfway back. His features are broad,
friendly,    Asian-American.

            Glen!
He approaches somewhat carefully., a~ if or. his                    second    dr:ink .
They hug and head back towards the booth.
                                   Glen
            Geez!     You look      great!
                                 Marge
            Yah--easy     there--you   do too!           I'm expecting,
            ya know.
                                                                                                   67
                                       Glen
               I see that!           That's great!
A   waitress    meets     them at the          table.
                         What can I get ya?
                                       Marge
               J~st     a Diet      Coke.
Again she glances          about.
                         This      is a nice     place.
                                   Glen
               Yah,      ya know it's   the Radisson               so it's
               pretty     good.
                                       Marge
               You're     livin'      in Edina      then?
                                   Glen
               Oh yah, couple years now. It's      actually  Eden
               Prairie--that     school distric~.   Sc Chic~
               Gunderson then!       So ya went and married Norm
               son-of-a-Gunderson!
                                  Marge                 •
               Oh yah, a long time ago.
                                 Glen
               Great.  What brings ya--are     ya down here on
               that homicide--if    you·re alloweo,  ya -know, to
               discuss that?
                                 Marge
               Oh yah, but there's     not a heckuva let tc
               discuss.     What about you, Glen?   Are you
               married--you    have kids?
                              Glen
               Well yah, I~     married, ! was married                             to--
               you mind if I sit over here?
He is sliding         out of his       side     of the booth         and easing           in nex~ to
Marge.
                      I was married           to Janet      Cooksey--
                                 Marge
               No, I--Glen--whyncha    s1:                over   there,      I'd
               prefer  that.
                                                                                             68
                                       Glen
            Huh?     Oh, okay,          I'm sorry.
                           Marge
            No, just so I can see ya,                     ya know.          Don't
            have to turn my neck.
                                   Glen
            Oh sure,        I unnerstand,         I didn't       mean to--
                                        Marge
            No no,     that's         fine.
                                     Glen
            Yah, sorry,           so I was married           to Janet
            Cooksey--ya           remember Janet?            She was a year
            behind us.
                             Marge
            I think I remember Janet,    yah. She was--yah.
            So things didn't   work out, huh?
Glen seems slightly          distracted.
                                    Glen
            And then        I.,  and then I been workin'                    for
            Honeywell         for a few years now.
                                       Marge
            Well they,re             a good outfit.
                            Glen
            Yah, if you're  an engir.eer,     yah, you could                            de
            a lot worse.   Of course it's      not, uh, it's
            nothin' like~       achieveme:1t.
                                       r.-~rge
            It   sounds       like     you're    doir.'     really     supe~.
                            Glen
            Yah, well I,· uh ...    it's not that                      it     didr.'t
            work out--Janet   passed away. ·she,                       uh ...

                                       Marge
            I'm sorry.
Glen's   composure     is     slipping.
                            Glen
            Yah, I, uh ...    it was a long,                    it    was a
            tough, uh ...   it was :~~ke~ia.                         She fought.
             . . It was, uh. . .
                                                                                         69

                                           Marge
            I'm sorry,             Glen.
                            Glen
            Oh, ya know, that's,                    uh--what        can ya say ...

He holds   up his         drink.
                          Better         times,    huh?
Marge clinks       it.
                                           Marge
            Better         times.
                           Glen
            It was so . .. 1 been so ...                            and then    I saw
            you on TV, and I remembered,                           ya know ..    . I
            always liked you ...
                                            Marge
            Well I always                 liked you,       Glen.
                                           Glen
            I always             liked     ya so much.
                             Marge
            It's  okay, Glen--should                      we get     together
            another time ya think?
                                           Glen
            No--I'm sorry!                  It's    just--!        been so lonely--
            th~n I saw you,                 and.
He is weeping.
                   I"m sorry ...  I shouldn't                          a done this .
             . . I thought we'd have a really                          terrific
            time, and now I"ve ..
                                           Marg~
            It's         okay.      . .
                            Glen
            You were such a super lady ...                            and then    I ..
            . ; been so lonely . .
                                        Marge
            It's         okay,     Glen ..   .
,,..
·,
                                                                                   70

           CARLTONCELEBRITYROOM
           Carl Rolvaag is sitting   at a small table with a tarty-looking
           blonde who is almost spilling   out of a low-cut gown. Each is
           holding a drink.
                                             Carl
                            Just in town on business.    Just in and out.
                            Ha-ha!  A little   of the old in-and-out!
                                                 Woman
                            Wuddya do?

           Carl    looks     around.
                                           Carl
                            Have ya been to the Celebrity           Room before?
                            With other, uh, clients?
                                                 Woman
                            I don't    think    so. It's    nice.

,..
',
                                            Carl
                            Yeah, well it depends on the artist.
                            know, Mac Davis, ya got no complaints.
                                                                             Yo~

C.                          Waiter!

           THEIR POV
           The backs of many many people,   sitting   at tables   between Carl and
           the very distant  stage,  where Mac Davis, very small,      sits on a
           spotlit  stool and plays.   The accoustics   are poor.

           CARL
           Still    signaling.
                                                 Carl
                            Waiter!
           He holds        up and points       to his   glass .
                            . . . So, uh, how long you been with            the
                            escort service?
                                                 Woman
                            I don't    know.     Few mu~~€
                                                 Carl
     C..
                                                                                                                 71
                    Ya find         the work interesting,                   do ya?
                                               Woman
                    ...       What're         you talking           about?


    DIRTY BEDROOM
    Carl    is humping the escort.
    We hear       the door burst          open.
    The escort       is grabbed         and flung           out of the bed.
                                    Carl
                    Shep!   What the hell are you doing!   I'm
                    banging that girl!    Shep! Jesus Ch--
    Shep slaps       him,     hard,     forehand,          backhand.
                                   Shep
                    Fuck out of my house!
    He hauls       him up--
                                       Carl
                    Shep!      Don"t you dare               fucking         hit     me, mar.!
                    Don't     you- -
    --punches       him,     and flings         him away.
    Ca~l hits       a sofa     and we see his              bare      legs         disappea~     as ~e flip:
    back over       it.
    Shep enters           fram~ to circle            the    sofa     and kick          at Carl    behind      it .

                                    Shep
                    Fuck outa here.    Put me back in Stillwater.
                    Little  fucking shit.
    There       is a knock at the door.
                                       Voice
                    Hey!      Come on in there!
    Shep strides           to the     door,     flings        it    open.
    A   black    man in boxer          shorts        stands        in the         doorway.
                                               Man
                    c•mon,     brother,         it's       late--Unghh!
l
                                                                                                    72


       Shep hits him twice,  then grabs both              of his     ears     and starts
       banging his head against   the wall.
       The hooker runs by clutching           her clothes        and Shep kicks       her    in
       the ass as she passes.
       He spins   and goes back into         the apartment.
       Carl   is hopping    desperately      into   his   pants.
                                   Carl
                   Stay away from me man!            Hey! Smoke a fuckin'
                   peace pipe , man! Don't           you dare fuckin--
                   Unghh!--
       After hitting      him several   times Shep yanks Carl's     belt out of his
       dangling     pants and strangles     him with it from behind,     lifting
       Carl's    feet off the floor.       Carl gurgles.     Shep knees Carl
       repeatedly     from behind as Carl purples,       then dumps him onto the
       floor and starts      whipping him with the buckle-e~d       of the belt .

       PHONEBOOTH
!""'   Inside a Red Lobster   restaurant.   Carl listens                  to the phone       ring
" ·    at the other end.    His face is deeply bruised                   and cut .
       Finally,   through     the phone:
                                          Voice
                           . Yah?

                                    Carl
                   All right Jerry,   I'm through              fucking      around.
                   You got the fucking money?

       JERRY'S KITCHEN
       He is at the kitchen         phone; through the door              to the dining      roo~
       we see Wade listening         on an extension.
                                        Jerry
                   Yah, I got       the money,      but uh--
                                    Carl
                   Don't you fucking but me Jerry.    I want you
                   with this money on the Dayton-Raddison
                   parking   ramp, top level, thirty minutes Jerry
r                  and we'll   wrap this up.

l.
                                                                                              73
                                    Jerry
                 Yah okay,     but uh--
                                   Carl
                 You're there in thirty    minutes or I find you,
                 Jerry,  and I shoot you, and I shoot your
                 fucking wife, and I shoot all your little
                 fucking children,    and I shoot 'em all in the
                 back of their little    fucking heads.  Got it?
                                 Jerry
                      . Yah, well you stay            away from Scotty           now--
                                        Carl
                 GOT IT?!
                                    Jerry
                 Okay, real     good then.
The line        goes dead.
A door     slams offscreen            and Jerry     looks     up.

EXT LUNDGAARDHAUS
Wade, briefcase          in . hand,     gets     in his Cadillac,       slams     the door a:i::!
peels out into         traffic.

INT      CAR

Wade's jaw works angrily                as he glares         out at traffic.        He mum!:les
to himself as he drives:
                                        Wade
                 Okay ...    here's       your damn money, no~ where•~
                 my daughter? ...           Goddamn punk ... where's
                 my damn daughter        ..   .
He pulls        out a gun,     cracks     the barrel,         peers   in .
                 . . . You little         punk.

JERRY'S HOUSE

Jerry    sits     in the foyer,         trying     to pull     on a pair       of galoshes.
                                        Voice     from upstairs
                      . Dad?
                                                                                         ;4

                                            Jerry
                   It's       okay,    Scotty.
                                        Voice
                   Where're       you going?
                                  Jerry
                   Be back in a minute.  If Stan calls you just
                   tell him I went to Embers.   Oh geez--
     Thunk!--his      first      boot goes on.



     RADISSON
     Marge sits on the bed in her hotel room, shoes off,                     massaging her
     feet.    The phone is pressed to her ear and, through                   it, we hear
     ringing.
                                              Voice
                   . . . Hello?
                                              Marge
                   Norm?

     MILLE LACS LAKE
     It is late evening, blowing sn ·ow. A leisurely  pan across the
     bleak gray expanse finds a little   hut in the middle of the froze:-i
     lake with a pickup truck parked next to it.
                                              Marge's   voice
                   They bitin'?

     INT    HUT
     Norm has a cellular      phone to his ear.   His feet are stretche~               o~:
     to an electric   heater.     The interior  is bathed in soft orang~
     light.
                                           Norm
                   Yeah, okay.           How's the hotel?
                                              Marge
                   Oh pretty          good.     They bitin'?
                                           Norm
                   Yeah, couple          a muskies .      No pike   yet.   How
C.
                                                                                          75
            d'you      feel?
                                   Marge
            Oh, fine.
                             Norm
            Not on your fee-.; too much?
                                   Marge
            No no.
                             Norm
            You shouldn't  be on your feet too much, you
            got weight you're not used to.    How's the
            food down there?
                            Marge
            Had dinner at a place          called The King's
            Table.   Buffet style.          It was pretty  darn
            good.
                                  Norm
            Was it      reasonable?
                               Marge
            Yah,    not too bad.   So's      it       nice    up there?
                                   Norm
            Yah it's      good .    No pike yet,        but    it's     good.




DAYTON'SRADDISONRAMP
The top,   open,    level.     Snow blows.        A    car sits        idling.
Another car pulls out of the ramp onto the level.                           It creeps cv-::-
to the parked car and stops.    It continues   to idle                      as the dc~:-
opens and Wade steps out, carrying   the briefcase.
The door of the other          car bangs open and Carl                bounces    o~:.
hopping up and down.
                                 Carl
            Who the      fuck are you?•      Who the fuck are
            you?!
                           Wade
            I got your damn money. yo~ little                   punk.       Now
            where's my daughter?
:--                                                                                                             76
                                           Carl
                        I am through fucking                      around!        Drop that
                        fucking briefcase!
                                                 Wade
                        Where's          my daughter?
                                                        Carl
                        Fuck you,           man!         Where's       Jerry?       I gave simple
                        fucking instructions--
                                                wade
                        Where's          my damn daughter?                    No Jean,     no money!
                                                  Carl
                        Drop that           fucking money!
                                                        Wade
                        No Jean,          no money!
                                                 Carl
                        Is this          a fucking joke               here?
          He pulls   out a gun and fires                       into    Wade's     gut .
                        Is       this    a fucking         joke?
                                                 Wade
                        Unghh . ..           oh geez ...
          He is on the pavement,                  clutching           at his     gut.      Snow swirls    .
                                                    Carl
                        You fucking              imbeciles!
          He bends   down next            to Wade to pick               up the briefcase.
                                                        Wade
                        Oh for          Christ    ...       oh geez.
          Wade brings        out his        gun and fires              at Carl's         head,   close   by.
                                                        Carl
                        Oh!
          Carl stumbles and falls                  back.        and then        stands     up again.      His ja~
          is gouting blood .
                        •    •    • Owwmm.

!f/11""   One hand pressed  to his jaw, he fires down at Wade, several
          times.  Blood streams through the hand pressed  to his jaw .
l
,-                                                                                               77

                     . . . M1a1u1111phnck
                                      ! He f nkem shop me . . .

        He pockets the gun, picks up the briefcase              one-handed,      flings     it
        into his car, gets in, peels out.

        THE DOWN
               RAMP
        Carl screams down the ramp.          He takes a corner      at high speed then
        swerves,  just missing Jerry        in his Olds on his      way to the top.

        INT JERRY'S CAR
        Jerry   recovers   from the near miss and continues           up.
                                        Jerry
                     Oh geez!

        EXIT BOOTH
        As Carl squeels    to a halt     at the gate,   still     pressing      his    hand to
        his bleeding   jaw.
                                     Carl
                     Ophhem ma fuchem gaphe!
                                    Attendant
                     May I have your ticket   please?

        RAMP ROOF

        As Jerry pulls to a halt next to Wade's idling              Cadillac.          He ge:s
        out·and walks slowly to where Wade's body lies              prostrate         in tr.e
        swirling snow.
                                        Jerry
                     Oh!   Oh geeeez!
        He looks around desperately   at the deserted   roof ramp, the lights
        of the ·city twinkling  in the distance.    He bends down, picks Wade
        up by the armpits and drags him over to the back of the Cadilla:.
        He drops Wade's body, walks to the driver's     side of the car,
        pulls the keys and walks back to pop the trunk.      He wres~les
        Wade's body into the trunk,   slams it shut and ~alks back to the
        scene of the shooting.

 ,,,.   CLOSE ON JERRY' S FEET

 l
                                                                                                                 78

       Kicking the snow with               his     galoshed         feet,     trying      to hide      the   fresh
       blood stains.

       THE EXIT BOOTH
       As Jerry     approaches        in the Cadillac.

       JERRY'S POV
       The wooden gate         barring       the exit             has been broken         away.        The booth
       is empty.

       BACKTO JERRY
       As he eases     toward        the    street,         looking         over   at the booth         as he
       passes.

       JERRY'S POV
       Inside     the booth        we see the awkwardly                   angled    leg   of a prostratE
       body.


       EXT JERRY'S HOUSE
       The car pulls        into     the driveway.

       FOYER
       Jerry enters      and sits          on the         foyer     chair     to tak~      off   his
       galoshes.
                                                  Scott's         Voice
                            . Dad?
                                                  Jerry
                     Yah.
                                                  Scott's         Voice
                     Stan     Grossman           called.
                                                  Jerry
                     Yah, okay.
,...                 Twice.
                                                  Scott's         Voice

C..
                                                                                                       79
                                        Jerry
              Okay.
                                       Scott's    Voice
                            Is everything      okay?
                                        Jerry
              Yah.
Thoonk--the         first     boot   comes off.
                                        Scott's     Voice
              Are you calling            Stan?
                                      Jerry
              Well ...           I'm goin' ta bed now.


CARL'S CAR
Carl mumbles as he drives,  underlit by the dim dash                          lights,            with
one hand now holding a piece of rag to his shredded                           jaw.

                                      Carl
              ...           Fnnkn ashlzh.           . Fnk.

THE ROAD

Low, looking down the road.   Carl's  car roars into frame,
violently  swirling the snow.  Its red tail   lights fishtail                                 a~ay .
FADE OUT
HOLD IN BLACK

HARDCUT TO:
BRIGHT--LOOKINGTHROUGHA WINDSHIELD
It is a starkly             sunny day.      We are     cruising      down a street          o:
humble look-alike             houses.
We pan right as we draw towards one house in particular,                                ir.      t~~
driveway of which a man in a hooded parka shovels   snow.                               He
notices  the approaching car and gives a brief wave.

REVERSE
Gary,   the Brainerd           police    officer.      is driving.       He gives       a
                                                                                            80
finger-to-the-forehead            salute     and begins    to pull   over.

OUTSIDE
As Gary slams his        door shut         and the other   man plants        his   shovel
in the snow.
                                    Man
             How ya doon.
                                    Gary
             Mr. Mohra?
                                    Man
             Yah.
                                    Gary
             Officer     Olson.
                                    Man
             Yah, right-o.
The two men, both in snorkel-hooded       parkas, talk in the driveway
without shaking hands and without standing particularly        close.
They stand stiffly   with their arms down at their sides and
vaporized  breath streaming     out of their hoods.    Each has an
awkward leaning-away   posture,    head drawn slightly   back and chir.
tucked in, to keep the face from protruding       into the cold .
              . . . So I'm tendin'    bar there at Ecklund &
             Swedlin's   last Tuesday and this little     guy"s
             drinkin'   and he says So where can a guy find
             some action--I'm    goin" crazy out there at the
             lake.    And I says What kinda action and he
             says Woman action,     what do I look like.    And
             I says Well what do 1 look like,     I don't
             arrange that kinda thing, and he says I'm
             goin' crazy out there at the lake and I say~
             well this ain't    that kinda place.
                                    Gary
             Uh-huh.
                                    Man
             So he says Sol get it              so you think I'm some
             kinda jerk for askin',             only he doesr.'t use
             the word jerk.
                                    Gary
             I unnerstand.
                                                                   81
                         Man
      And then he calls~       a jerk and says tLe last
      guy who thought~       was a jerk is dead now.
      So I don't say nothin'     and he says What do ya
      think about -'.hll,?   So I says, well that don't
      sound like too good a deal for him then.
                              Gary
      Ya got that         right.
                             Man
      And he says, Yah, that guy's dead and I don't
      mean a old age.  And then he says, Geez, I'm
      goin' crazy out there at the lake.
                     Gary
      White Bear Lake?
                             Man
      Well Ecklund & Swedlin's,   that's  closer              ta
      Moose Lake, so I made .tha,t assumption.
                             Gary
      Oh sure.
                             Man
      So ya know he's drinkin'  so I don't think a
      whole great deal of it but Mrs. Mohra heard
\._   about the homicides out here and she thought
      I should call it in so I called it in.    End a
      story.                                 ,
                             Gary
      What'd     this     guy look like   anyways?
                       Man
      Oh he was a little   guy, kinda          funny-lookin'.
                             Gary
      Uh-huh--in         what way?
                             Man
      Just   a general       way.
                        Gary
      Okay, well thanks a bunch Mr. Mohra.     You're
      right,  it's  probably nothin' but thanks for
      callin'   her in.
                             Man
      Oh sure.          They say she's    gonna turn   cold
      tomorrow.
,.                                       Gary
                                                                                                            82

                   Ya.h, got a front       movin'         in.
                                         Man
                   Ya got    that    right.



      CLOSE ON CARLROLVAAG
      In his car, now parked,  staring                 down at something next to him in
      the front seat.  One hand still                  holds the rag pressed to his
      mangled jaw.
      He is motionless.

      HIS POV
      His other hand holds          open the briefcase.                 It    has money inside--a
      lot of money.


,,.
'·
      BACK TO CARL

      He takes    out one of the bank-wrapped                   wads,    looks    at it.
                                         Carl
                   • .    • Mmmnphh.

      He starts    pawing    through     the money in the breifcase,                      figuring         the
      amount.
                   . ..    Jeshush     Shrist    ...        Jeshush          fuchem
                   Shrist!
      Excited, he counts          out a bundle         of bills      and tosses          it    onto   the
      back the car seat.
      He tries  to take the rag away from his chin but the layer pressed
      against  his face sticks, its loose weave bound to his skin by
      clotted  blood.
      He pulls    very   gently     and winces         as blood      starts      to flow again.
      He carefully  tears the rag in half                  so that       only    a bit        of it   is
      left adhering   to his jaw.


      EXT    THE CAR
                                                                                                      83
     It is pulled over to the side of an untraveled                     road.          The car
     door opens and Carl emerges with the briefcase.
     He slogs through the snow, down a gulley and up the embankment to
     a barbed-wire    fence.  He kneels at one of the fence posts and
     frantically   digs into the snow with his bare hands, throws in the
     briefcase   and covers it back up.
     He stands     up, trying to beat the circulation                  back     into     his   red,
     frozen     hands, and looks to the right.
     A regular     line of identical       fenceposts      stretches      away against
     unblemished      white.
     He looks     to the left.
     A regular  line of identical          fencepost&      stretches      away against
     unblemished white.
     He looks     at the fencepost       in front   of him.
                                        Carl
                   Mnmphh ..•      .

     He looks about the snowy vastness   for a marker.   Finding none, he
     kicks the fencepost  a couple of times, failing   to scar or tilt
     it, then hurriedly  plants a couple of sticks up against    the post.
     He bends down, scoops up a handful of snow, presses                         it    against
     his wounded jaw, and lopes back to the idling car.



     HOTELROOM
     Marge has a packed          overnight bag sitting  on the unmade bed; she
     is already wearing          her parka, ready to leave, but is on the
     phone.
                                       Marge
                   Ya think    he's all right?          I saw him last
                   night    and he's--
                                        Voice
                   What'd     he say?
                                   Marge
                   Well it was nothin'   specific he said, it just
                   seemed like it all hit him really    hard, his
                   wife dyin'--



l.
                                                                                    84
,_,..                                       Voice
                    His wife?
                                            Marge
                    Janet.
                                            Voice
                    No.
                                            Marge
                    Janet      Cooksey?
                                     Voice
                    No. No. No. They weren•t--he,       uh, he was
                    bothering   Janet for about, oh for a good
                    year.    Really pestering  her, wouldn't leave
                    her alone.
                                             Marge
                    So ...           they didn't.
                                             Voice
                    No. No.            They never married.      Glen's      had
                    psychiatric          problems.
,,...               Oh.       Oh my.
                                            Marge


                                     Voice
                    Yah, he--he's   been struggling.               He's    living
                    with his parents now.
                                            Marge
                      Oh.     Geez.
                                             Voice
                    Yah, Janet's          fine.    You should   call      her.
                                            Marge
                    Geez,      I--
        There   is an electronic          bleating   sound .
                       . . . Geez--hold,        hold on Valerie,       my other
                      line's  ringin 1 •
        She punches     two buttons.
                               Yah?
                                            Voice
                      Chief    Gunderson?
                                                                                  85




    HALLWAY
    A handheld camera follows behind Marge as she walks down a
    brightly  toplit modern institutional   hallway.  Marge is still
    wearing her outdoorswear;    the nylon of shell of her parka goes
    SHWEBK-SHWEEK-SHWEEK   as she walks.
    We follow Marge to a door marked HOMICIDE, and in.   The large
    room has a counter behind which people work at randomly placed
    desks.
    Marge asks    an officer      at the counter:
                                      Marge
                 Is Detective       Sibert here?
    Perched on a nearby desk is a woman sharing a loud laugh with                the ·
    officer seated behind it.    She reacts upon hearing Marge and
    steps up to the counter,  still  chuckling.
                                      Woman
                 Chief   Gunderson?
                                      Marge
                 Yah--Detective       Sibert?
                                   Woman
                 Yah.    Why dontcha come over ta my desk then.

    FOLLOWING
    We are following   Detective Sibert through the room as she talks
    casually  back over her shoulder,   without ever really looking
    back.
                                      Detective     Sibert
                 Well, Shep Proudfoot  is now wanted for
                 assault and parole violation.   He clobbered                a
                 neighbor of his last night and another person
                 who could be one of your perps, and he's at
                 large.   Cup a. coffee?
                                      Marge
                 Oh no thanks,       I'm good.      So somethin's    goin'
                 on.
                                      Detective  Sibert
                 Yah.    I called     his employer, this      Wade

l
                                                                                86
             Gustafson, ta see if he'd missed any work
             last week but I haven't heard back fran him
             yet.
                            Marge
             I talked to a salesman over there yesterday--
             Lemme run over and talk to him again.
She rises.
                                   Detective     Sibert
             Yah, couldn't        hurt.
                                  Marge
             And then I guess I'll        head back up to
             Brainerd.     I just can't thank you enough,
             Detective    Sibert,    this cooperation  has been
             outstanding.
                            Detective Sibert
             Ah well we haven't had to run around                like
             you. When•re you due?
                                   Marge
             End a April.
                                   Detective     Sibert
             Any others?
                             Marge
             This'll  be our first.            We've been waiting          a
             long time.
                                  Detective Sibert
             That's     wonderful.     Mn-mm. That's         terrific.
                                Marge
             Oh yah,     we're just,  we're just          on pins    and
             needles.      You have children?
Detective  Sibert       leans    forward    to turn   two framed photographs   to
face Marge.
                              Detective Sibert
             I thought you'd never ask.     The older one is
             Janet,  she's nine, and the younger one is
             Morgan.
                                   Marge
             Oh now he's        adorable.
                                   Detective     Sibert
_,,.
I
                                                                                                      87

                     He's    three     now.     Course,       not in that        picture.
                                             Marge
                     Oh, he's        adorable.
                                              Detective       Sibert
                     Yah,    he--
                                         Marge
                    Where'd       you get him that            parka?



       JERRY LUNDEGAARD'S
                        OFFICE
       Jerry is at his desk using a blunt pencil to enter numbers onto a
       form; beneath the form is a piece of carbon paper and beneath
       that another form copy which he periodically     checks.      The carbon-
       copy form shows thick,  smudgy, rather illegible     entries.     Jerry
       hums nervously.
       Glass   rattles      as someone taps           at   his door.
       Jerry looks        up and freezes,        mouth hanging           open,    brow knit   with
       worry.
       Marge is sticking            her head in the door.
                                              Marge
                     Mr. Lundegaard?            Sorry      to bother      you again.
                     Can I come in?
       She starts        to enter.
                                            Jerry
                     Yah, no,        I'm kinda--I'm          kinda     busy--
                                       Marge
                     I unnerstand,   I'll  keep it real short then.
                     Do you mind if I sit down--I'm carrying     a bit
                     of a load here.
                                              Jerry
                     No, I--
       But she is already sitting               into       the chair     opposite,      with a sigh
       of relieved weight.
                                            Marge
                     Yah, it's        this vehicle          I asked you about
                     yesterday.          I was just         wondering--
                                                                         88
                            Jerry
           Yah, like I told ya, we haven•t             had any
           vehicles  go missing.
                            Marge
           Okay, are you sure, 'cause the reason we're
           concerned is that an employee here I talked
           to yesterday   is now a fugitive    from justice,
           and we know the perpetrators      were driving a
           car with dealer plates.      So it'd be quite a
           coincidence  if this employee and this car
           weren't connected here.
                                 Jerry
           Yah, I see.
                           Marge
           So are you sure that car isn't--have             you done
           any kinda inventory   recently?
                            Jerry
           It's   not from our lot,       ma'am.
                          Marge
           But do you know for sure          it's   not from your
           lot without--
                          Jerry
           Well I would know. I'm the Executive              Sales
           Manager.
                                 Marge
           Yah, but--
                                 Jerry
           We run a pretty        tight   ship here.
                              Marge
           I know·, but--well    how do you establish            that,
           sir? ·Are the cars, uh, counted daily,                or
           what kind of--
                           Jerry
           Ma'am, I answered your question.
There is a silent     beat.
                                 Marge
                    I'm sorry,     sir?
                           Jerry
           Ma'am, I answered your question.              I answered
                                                                                                          89
,~   -
                      the darn--I'm              cooperating,      here,      and I ...
                                     Marge
                      Sir, you have no call to get snippy                            with me.
                      I'm just doin' my job here.
                                      Jeny
                      I'm not, uh, I'm not arguin'  here.     I'm
                      cooperating ...   There's no, uh--we're     doin'
                      all we can. . .
         He trails    off     into     silence.
                                              Marge
                      Sir,     could     I talk to Mr. Gustafson?
         Jerry   stares      at her.
                                Mr. Lundegaard?
         Jerry   explodes:
                                        Jerry
                      Well heck, if you wanna, if you wanna play
                      games here!    I'm workin' with ya on this
                      thing, but I ...
         He is getting        angrily      to his      feet.
                                Okay, I'll          do a damned lot          count!
                                              Marge
                      Sir?      Right      now?
                                                  Jerry
                      Sure right         now!        You're     darned     tootin'     !
         He is yanking his parka from a hook behind                           the opened door and
         grabbing a pair of galoshes .
                          . . . If it's          so damned important           to ya!
                                                  Marge
                      I •m sorry,        ·sir,     I- -
         As he leaves,        the parka over one arm, the galoshes                         pinched    in his
         h~:                                                                                      '
                                     Jerry
                      Aw, what the Christ!
                                                  Marge
,,.                 Could I use your phone,          sir?
                                                                                               90



      Jerry   is already      gone.
      Marge turns back to the desk,            reaches the phone over and punches
      numbers into it.  She fiddles            with a pencil as she waits for the
      connection.
                                         Marge
                             Detective    Sibert,   please . ..
      With the eraser end of the pencil she plays with the clipboard   on
      the desk.   She twirls it around, drags it over to her side of the
      desk.
                    . .. Detective     Sibert?    Yah, it's   Marge
                    again ...    Yah, real good. Well I'm in Jerry
                    Lundegaard's   office,    and there's   somethin'
                    goin' on here.     Maybe you could run a CH on
                    him.

      The form on the clipboard           is from the General       Motors     Finance
      Corporation .
                           . I'm pretty sure my car is from his              lot
                    here, and he seems--oh for Pete's     sake.              For
                    Pete's     sake.
l     Her voice     has gone suddenly        flat   as she stares    off.

      HER POV
      Jerry,  wearing dark glasses, parka hood pulled                up,     is easing       his
      car around the near corner of the showroom.

      MARGE
      She rises     slowly    to her feet     with the phone still          pressed     to her
      ear.
                                       Marge
                    ...     He's fleein'   the interview.    He's
                    fleein'   the interview.    Oh for Pete's    sake,
                    he's ..   . No, this fella Lundegaard ...
      Jerry pulls     up to the mouth of the lot            and makes a left          turn   into
      traffic .
                    . . . What the beck--I   can't--I          can't see his
                    darn license.  Well it'•   prob'ly          bis own car-

l.
                                                                                                    91
                    - he's drivin'    a royal blue late-model      Fifth
                    Avenue and he's just turning,       uh, west now en
                    Wayzata Boulevard ...        That's two A's ...
                    No, in Lundegaard ...      Yah, it looks like
                    this thing goes higher than we thought ...
                    Yah ...    Wanted for questioning      in connection
                    with a triple   homicide ...      Yah, he was real
                    darn agitated ...       Oh for Pete's    sake . ..


       GAEAR GRI?t$RUD

       He sits eating a Swanson's TV dinner                from a little          TV tray       he has
       set up in front of an easy chair.
       He watches TV--the Sony Trinitron,      which sits on the cart where
       the old black-and-white    used to sit.     Rabbit ears have been
       placed on the new set but its image--it        might be a game show--is
       still  heavily ghosting and diffused     by snow. The audio crackles
       with interference   as well.    Despite the impenetrability    of the
       image, it holds Grimsrud's     canplete  attention.
       With the sound of the front          door opening Grimsrud             looks       up.     Carl
, -.   is entering, his face still          suppurating  and raw.
       He reacts    to Grimsrud's       wordless    look with a grotesque                laugh:
                                        Carl
                    You should      she zhe uzher        guy!
       He glances    around .
                    . . . The fuck happen a her?
       Jean sits slumped in a straightbacked chair facing                         the wall.   Her
       hooded head, resting on her chest, is motionless.                          There is blood
       on the facing wall.
                                         Grimsrud
                    She started      shrieking,   you know,.
                                         Carl
                    Jezhush.
       He shakes    his   head .
                          . Well I gotta        muddy.
       He is plunking      down eight     bank-wrapped          bundles    on the table .
                    . . . All of it.         All eighty         gran.     Forty    for
                                                                                                        9:2

                         you.    . .
I
 """""
          He makes one pile,           pockets     the rest .
                         . . . Forty       for me.      Sho thishuzh        it.
                         Adiosh.
          He slaps      some keys down on the table .
                         . . . You c•n•ave          my truck.         I'm takin'      a
                         Shierra.
                                                 Grimsrud
                         We split      that.
          Carl looks      at him.
                                       Carl
                         HOWTHE FUCKDO WE SHPLITTA FUCKIN' CAR?! Ya
                         dummy! Widda fuckin chainshaw?!
          Grimsrud      looks    dourly    up at him.       There is a beat.              Finally:
                                        Grimsrud
                         One of us pays the other             for half.
                                      . Carl
                         HOLDON! NO FUCKIN' WAY! YOU FUCKIN' NOTISH
                         ISH? I GOT FUCKIN' SHOT! I GOT FUCKIN' SHOT
                         INNA FAISH! I WENT'NGOTl'A FUCKIN' M)NEY! I
                         GET SHQ:I FUCJCIN' PICKIN' IT UPI I BEEN UP
                         FOR THIRTY-SHIKSHFUCKIN'HOURZH,I'M TAJCIN'
                         THAT FUCKIN' CARI THAT FUCKERIZH MINE! .
          Carl waits      for an argument,          but only gets        the steady        sour look.
         · Carl pulls     out a gun.
                         YOU FUCKIN' ASH-HOLE! I LISHEN A YOUR
                         BULLSHIT FOR A WHOLEFUCKIN' WEEK!
          A beat.       Carl    returns    Grimsrud's       stare .
                                . Are we shquare?
          Grimsrud      says nothing .
                                . ARE WESHQUARE?
          A beat.
,,...     Disgusted,      Carl pockets         the gun and heads         for      the door.
(___
,..
'                  ...    Fuckin' ash-hole.  And if you shee your
                                                                                          93

                   friend Shep Proudpfut tell him I'm gonna NAIL
                   hizh fuckin'   ash.

       OUTSIDE
       We are pulling Carl as be walks toward the car.                 Behind him we
       see the cabin door opening.  Carl turns, reacting                to the sound.
       Grimsrud is bounding out wearing mittens            and a red hunter's      cap,
       but no overcoat.   He is holding an axe.
       Carl fumbles   in his pocket       for his gun.
       Grimsrud swings overhand,        burying    the axe where Carl's      shoulder
       meets his neck.


       ~GE
       In her cruiser,     on her two-way.        Through it we bear Lou's voice;

,,.    heavily filtered:

                   His wife.
                                   Voice
                              This guy says she was kidnapped
l_                 last Wednesday.
                                  Marge
                   The day of our homicides.
                                       Voice
                   Yah.
       Marge is peering to one side as she drives,    looking             through the
       bare trees that border the road on a declivity     that            runs down to
       a large frozen lake.
                                        Marge
                   And this      guy is ...
                                        Voice
                   Lundegaard's      father-in-law's     accountant.
                                       Marge
                   Gustafson's      accountant.
                                       Voice
,,..               Yah.
                                       Marge
                                                                                              94
                 Where's    Gustafson?
                                       Voice
                 (Crackle)--looking.
                                      Marge
                 Sorry--didn't       copy.
                                       Voice
                 Still    missing.      We're looking.
                                   Marge
                 Copy.     And Lundegaard      too.
                                   Voice
                 Yah.     Where are ya, Margie?
     We hear,   distant but growing        louder,       harsh    engine     noise,   as of a
     chainsaw   or lawnmower.
                                Marge
                 Oh, I'm almost back--I figured               ~•d drive
                 around Moose Lake on the way.
                                      Voice
                Oh.      Gary's   loudmouth.

l_                              Marge
                Yah, the loudmouth, who knows. So they put
                it out, Lundegaard and Gustafson?
                                   Voice
                 Yah, it's    over the wire,          it's   everywhere,
                 they'll   find •em.
                                       Marge
                 Copy.
                                       Voice
                We've got a--
                                       Marge
                There's     the cart      There's      the car!

     HER POV
     Slowing as we approach a short driveway                 leading       down to a cabin.
     Parked in front is the dark blue cutlass                  Cierra.
                                       Voice
                 Fifth    Avenue?

l
                                                                                             95
                                               Marge
                 My     earl      My    earl      Blue Cierra!
                                           Voice
                 Don't         go in!     Wait for back-up!
      Marge is straJ.ning         to look.   The powertool        noise   is louder   here
      but still muffled,          its source not visible.
                               Chief    Gunderson?
                                        Marge
                 Copy.          Yah, send me back-up!
                                           Voice
                 Yes ma'am.             Are we the closest       PD?
                                 Marge
                 Yah,  Menominie only has Chief Perpich and he
                 takes February off to go to Boundary Waters.


      EXT THE ROAD

      Marge pulls her prowler over some distance  past the cabin.                      She
      gets out, zips up her khaki parka and pulls up its fur-lined
(_    hood.
      For a moment she stands listening   to _the muffled roar of the
      powertool.   Then, with one curved arm half pressing      against, half
      supporting  her belly, she takes slow gingerly    steps down the
      slope, through the deep snow, through the trees,      angling towards
      the cabin and the source of the powertool roar.

      ON MARGE
      She slogs from tree to tree, letting  each one support her
      downhill-leaning  weight for a moment of rest before slogging                     on
      to the next.
      The roar ia growing louder.   Marge stands panting by one tree,
      her breath vaporising  out of her snorkel hood.   She squints down
      toward the cabin.

      HER POV
      We can see past the side of the cabin into its back lot.    A tall
,._   man with his back to us, wearing a red plaid quilted  jacket and a
      hunting cap with earflaps, is laboring over a large power tool

l
                                                                                  96
      which his body blocks      from view.

      ~GE
      Looking.

      HER POV

      The man is forcing something downwards, which engages             the roaring
      powertool and makes harsh spluttering  noises.

      CLOSE RBVBRSE

      On the man. The roar is very loud here.    The man is Grimsrud,
      his nose red and eyes watering from the cold, hatflaps  pulled
      down over his ears.   His breath vaporizes as he sourly goes about
      his work, both hands pressing down on a shod foot, as you would
      press down on the shaft of a butter churn.
      Behind Grimsrud we see the woods, and movement.

'6-   )QRGE

~     Slogging     down to the next tree,     panting,   looking.

      HER POV
      Grimsrud forcing something into the machine,            which we can now see
      sprays small wet chunks out the bottom.

      W>.RGE

      Her eyes shift.

      HER POV
      A large    dark foI:m lying _in the snow next      to Grimsrud.

      CLOSE ON GRIMSRUD
      Loud roar.      Eyes watering.
      Emerging from the woods behind him we see the large khaki-colored
      shape of Marge Gunderson, advancing, her right aI:m extended.
                                                                                                          97
~    With a grunt Grimsrud bends down out of frame momentarily, and
     reenters holding a thick log.  He uses it to force the leg deeper
     into the machine.
     Marge    is advancing.              We can now see the gun in her extended                    right
     arm.
     Grimsrud      rubs      his     nose with the back of his hand.

     CLOSE ON MUGE
     Breath steaming out of her nose, corners of her mouth drawn down
     in a grimace as she advances.   One arm is still curled under her
     belly.

     HER POV
     Hand-held track in on Grimsrud's back as he puts                                his weight    into
     the log that pushes down into the machine.
     The dark shape in the snow to his                       side     is the rest      of Carl
     Rolvaag's body.

~
I    CLOSE ON GRIMSRUD
(_   Sourly      at work as,          behind     him, Marge draws to within              twenty
     yards.
     When she bellows it                sounds strangely hollow and distant,                 her
     voice all but eaten                up by the roar of the powertool:
                                                Marge
                    Stop!           Police!      Turn around and hands up!
     Startled,      Grimsrud          scowls.        He turns       to face   her.
     He stares.
     Marge bellows           again:
                             . Hands up!
     Conscious of the noise,                   she   show■   with a twist        of her shoulder
     the armpatch insignia:
                    ...            Police!
     Grimsrud      stares.
,...
I
        With a quick twist of his body he reaches                       back for        the log and
                                                                                                       98


        hurls it at Marge and then starts running                       away.
        Marge twists       her body sideways,           shielding       her     stanach.
        No need--the       heavy log travels  perhaps               ten yards         and lands   in the
        snow several       feet short of her.

        PULLING GRIMSRUD

        As he pants      up the hill--slow            going   through     the deep snow.
        Behind him:
                                              Marge
                       Halt!
        She fires      in the        air.

        ON MARGE


,.      She lowers      the gun and carefully

                       Halt!
                                              Marge
                                                         sights.


(
        She fires.

        GRIMSRUD
        Still   slogging        up the hill--a        miss.

        MARGE
        Still   sighting       . .
                                              Marge
                       Halt!
        She fires      again.

        GRIMSRUD
        He pitches forward.  He muttters                  in Swedish          as he reaches       down to
        clutch at his wounded leg.
    ~   Marge walks        toward       him, gun trained      on him,         other    hand now

l
                                                                                                      99
     reaching      under her parka         and feeling         around her waist.
     It comes out with a pair of handcuffs which she opens with a snap
     of the wrist.  She holds them up near her ear, her other hand
     pointing the gun down at Grimsrud.
                                   MP.rge
                   All right buddy. On your belly                        and your
                   hands clasped behind you.


     THE    CRUISER
     Marge drives;         Grimsrud     sits     in the back seat,           hands cuffed        behind
     him.
     For a long moment there is quiet--just  engine hum and the
     periodic  clomp of wheels on pavement seams--as Marge grimly
     shakes her head.
     She stops      shaking     her head, but still              looks     grimly      out at the
     road.
                                          Marge
                      ..      So that    was Mrs. Lundegaard               in there?
(_   She glan.ces up in the rear               view mirror.
     Grimsrud,      cheeks     sunk,    eyes hollow,          looks      sourly     out at the road.
     Marge grimly      shakes     her head.
     At length:
                                          Marge
                    ...   I guess        that was your accomplice                   in the
                    woodchipper.
     Grimsrud'a      bead bobs with bumps in the road; otherwise                             be is
     motionless,      reactionless, scowling and gazing out.
     Marge also- stares         out at the road .
                           . And those         three   people      in Brainerd.
     No response.
     Marge seems to be talking                 more to herself           now .
                    . . . And for what.                Pora     little     bit    of
                    money.
l
,,..
I
                                                                                                       100
       We hear distant      sirens    .
                     . . . There's more to life                     than a little
                     money, you know.
       She glances     up again      in the rear view mirror.
                     . . . Don't you know that?.   . .                       And here ya
                     are, and it's a beautiful   day.
       Grimsrud's     hollow eyes stare             out.
       The sirens     are getting         louder.      Marge pulls            the car .over.
                     . . . Well.      . .
       She leans forward        to the dash to give two short                       signalling       WHOOPS
       on her siren.
       She turns     on her flashers.
       She leans     back with a creak and jangle                     of · utilities.
       She stares forward, grimly              shakes her head.                We hear the dull
       click of her flashers .
                     . . . I just     don't         unnerstand         it.

       THE ROAD
       It is snowing.       The sky,        the earth,         the road--all             white.
       A squad   car, gumbballs spinning,                   punches through             the white,
       approaching in slow motion.
       An ambulance punches through                 after     it.
       Another     squad car.
       FADEOUT

       FADE IN
       HIGH ANGLE
       A small motel, straddling the interstate                         on a snowy windswept
       plain.  One or two cars dot the parking                         lot along with an idling
       police cruiser.

       l«>TEL ROOM DOORWAY

l
                                                                                          1.01
,,..   We are looking over the shoulders of two uniformed policemen who
       stand ~neither     side of the doorway, their hands resting lightly
       on their holstered     side-arms. one of them raps at the door.
                                             Cop one
                     Mr. Anderson.
       A title     fades     in on the screen:
                             OUTSIDE OF BISM1JUC,NORTHDAKOTA
       After     a pause,    muffled      through     the door:
                                             Voice
                             . Who?. .
                                              Cop One
                     Mr. Anderson,          is this your Fifth       Avenue?
                                            Voice
                               Just     a sec.
                                    Cop One
                     Could you open the door please?                                          J


                                            Voice
                               Yah.      Yah, just     a sec.
       We hear a clatter         from inside .
                      . . . Just        a sec ...
       one of the policemen unholsters     his gun and nods to someone whose
       back then enters--a  superintendent    holding a ring of key_s. This
       man turns a key in the door and then stands·away.
       The· two policemen,            guns at the ready,        bang into   the motel room.
       The rough hand-held camera rushes in behind them as the two men
       give the room a two-handed sweep with their guns.  The room is
       empty. Cop One indicates   the open bathroom door.
                                             Cop One
                     Dale!

       The two men charge the bathroom, belts jingling,  guns at the
       ready, jittery  camera behind them rushing to keep pace.
       A man in boxer shorts             is halfway     out the bathroom window.
       The policemen holster             their guns as they charge          the window, and
       drag Jerry Lundegaard             back into the room.
                                                                                              102
,,.      His flesh quivers      as he hyperventilates          and keens in short
         peircing  acreams.
         The cops wrestle him to the floor but Jerry thrashes                  in a palsied
         fit.  Both policemen struggle  to restrain him.
                                       Cop One
                       Call an ambulance!
                                      Cop 'l'Vo
                       You got him okay?
         Cop One pinions Jerry's           arms to the floor    and Jerry     bursts   into
         uncontrollable  sobbing.
                                            Cop One
                       Yah, yah,   call     an ambulance.
         Jerry   sobs and screams.


         A BEDROOM
         We are square on Norm who sits up in bed, under the covers,                     eyes
         on a television set that sits at the foot of the bed. He
         absently munches from a bag of potato chips.
         We hear the low audio of a talk             show.
         After a long beat Marge enters             frame in a nightie      and climbs     into
         bed, with some effort.
                                            Marge
                       Oooph!
         Norm reaches     for her hand as both watch the television.
         At length     Norm speaks,       but keeps his eyes on the TV:
                                      Norm
                       They announced it.
         Marge looks     at him.
                                      Marge
                       They announced it?!
                                            Norm
                       Yah.
,-..     Marge looks at him, waiting           for more, but Norm's eyes stay            fixed
,...._
                                                                      103
on the TV.
                                        Marge
                       So?
                            Norm
             Three cent stamp.
                                       Marge
             Your mallard?!
                                       Norm
             Yah.

                                       Marge
             Norm, that's            terrific!
Norm tries     to stifle          a smile        of pleasure.
                                  Norm
              It's    just   the three cent.
                                       Marge
             It's     terrific!
                                       Norm
             Hauptmann's           blue-winged teal got the twenty-
             nine cent.            People don't much use the three
             cent.
                                        Marge
             Oh for Pete•s--a    course they do! Every time
             they raise t ·he darned postage, people need
             the little  stamps!
                                        Norm
             Yah.
                                        Marge
             When·tbey•re            stuck with a bunch a the old
             ones!
                                        Norm
             ·yah,    I guess.
                                        Marge
             That's      terrific.
Her eyes go t>: '· to the TV.
                       I'm so proud a you, Norm.
                                                                                   104
      They watch TV.
                        . Heck, we're   doin'   pretty   good, Norm.
      Norm munnurs:
                                Norn,
                 I love you, Margie.
                                   Marge
                 I love you,    Norm.
      Both of them are watching the TV as Norm reaches           out to rest   a
      hand on top of her stomach.
                                    Norm
                 ...     Two more months.
      Marge absently    rests   her own hand on top of his.
                                 Marge
                 Two more months.


,..   Hold; fade out.




r
l.
