Thursday, December 3, 2009

Part 3

Part 3 of The Blair Mitch Project's MST3K MITCHELL transcribe



[Mitchell is leaning against a car, watching Cummins and Benton play golf. Another man is waiting by the car.]

Crow What's eating Gypsy?
Joe; [Mitchell]: Hey, wanna do somethin' later, maybe?

Mitchell: Got the right time?

Tom [man]: Yeah, ten to, as in "tend to your own damn business!"

Man: Ten to twelve.

Crow: Noon or midnight?

Mitchell: That guy Cummins sure gets around. That's sure some schedule he's got!

Tom [of man]: It's Earl Holloman.

Man: Don't bother me, mister.

Mitchell: Anti-social type, huh? Private type? Maybe you should let other people have that privacy.

[The man glares at Mitchell in disgust, then walks away.]

Crow [man]: My face hurts.
Joel: What was *that* all about?

[The man suddenly starts running. Mitchell pulls out a gun and shoots him.]

Crow: Darryl Gates on his day off.
Tom [Cummins]: Hey, I'm putting here!
Crow [sports announcer]: He's landed just short of the green...
Joel: Oh no! Mr Trevino's been hit again!

[The man writhes and moans on the green in agony as Mitchell jogs over and takes his gun.]

Crow: Isn't that cute? He's trying to tell us something!
Tom [golfer]: Can we play through?

Mitchell: Ha ha. Can you handle this? Ah gotta go call headquarters.

[He hands the man's gun to Cummins. Benton looks bemused.]

Joel: That Merlin is lost without a map.
Crow [Cummins]: Don't laugh, you're only encouraging him.
Tom [goofy]: Ha ha ha... oh, Mitchell...

[An unmotivated zoom on a big car in the background.]

Tom: The new Chrysler Fury, the car that thinks it's a house.


[Mitchell leaves the building. A superior, Aldridge, corners him.]

Joel [Mitchell]: Ah can't believe it, ah'm in trouble for killin' a civilian!

Aldridge: Mitchell! I thought your job was Cummins!

Mitchell: Ah've been busy.

Aldridge: Oh, really.

Mitchell: Say, you [mumbles something obscured by a car horn.]

Aldridge: Nope. You may be facing a disciplinary charge for shooting him.

Mitchell: What the hell? You wanted him for two weeks with no bail and that's how you got him.

Aldridge: I didn't expect you to shoot him!

Mitchell: Oh, you're asinine, Aldridge.

Crow [Aldridge]: I thought I had authority over him!


[Mitchell is having a meal with Cummins, Benton serving.]

Cummins: You shouldn't have blown your cover like that. 'I'll go phone headquarters'?

Tom [Mitchell]: Pass the potatoes, peas, butter, peas, pie, butter...

Cummins: That's your trouble.

Tom [Mitchell]: Yeah, trouble. Pass the gravy, the stuffing...

[Cummins signals that Benton should serve Mitchell. Benton looks annoyed. Mitchell picks something from his mouth.]

Joel [Mitchell]: Urp. Oh, that's one of *mine*!
Crow [Benton]: This is the part of being a henchman I hate.
Tom [snooty butler voice]: Can I tempt you with some dessert?

Cummins: I don't think Benton likes you.

Joel [of Mitchell's clothes]: Can we get some more volume on that jacket, please?

Cummins: That's your trouble. Not too many people like you. You've got to cultivate people, go out to them, win their confidence. You never know when they're going to come in useful. You've got to be nice to them.

Tom [Mitchell]: Yeah, nice, more butter please.

Mitchell: Well, what about the heroin, Mr Cummins?

Cummins: Forget the heroin!

Joel [Cummins]: That's for dessert!

Cummins: You're asking about the heroin over the soup! That's your trouble, you're impatient. You had that guy as if he was going to do you some harm.

Mitchell: Ah wanted to find out he he was.

Cummins: So ask him, don't shoot him! Who was he?

Tom [Mitchell]: Ah didn't ask him, ah shot him!

Mitchell: Bocca, Ted Bocca.

Crow: Bocca's a good cop!

Cummins: Booker? Booker, Booker, Booker?

Tom: Who's got the book?

Mitchell: Bocca, with a double 'c'. Edmundo Bocca.

Cummins [shrugging]: Like the soup?

Mitchell: Yes.

Crow [Mitchell]: Goes with mah tie.

Mitchell: You got this place laid out like a real banquet, Mr Cummins.

Cummins: Or a business dinner. We might talk business later. Can I have some more soup, Benton?

Benton: Uh, there is no more soup, sir.

Joel: I sense he's lying, but why would he lie about the soup?

Cummins: How do you like that? In my own house, no more soup.

Tom: My dinner with Mitchell.
[Crow makes slurping sounds as Mitchell eats.]

Cummins: Bocca works for Mistretta.

Mitchell: That's the first piece of information you've come up with, Mr Cummins.

Crow: How about letting *us* in on some?

Cummins: Benton, what're you doing with those steaks? You growing them?

Joel [Mitchell, dumb]: Huh huh huh, you can't grow steaks.

[Later. Mitchell's polished off most of a cow and is peeling an orange. Benton clears the table.]

Crow [Mitchell]: No, wait, ah want that bone marrow!

[A microphone droops into frame above Mitchell.]

Joel: Woah, boom mike, bigtime.
Crow: Wooo!

Cummins: You going to take all night peeling that orange?

Mitchell: I thought maybe we might talk about... the shipment?

[Cummins gets up and walks past Mitchell.]

Tom [Cummins]: Would you just give me that orange!
Crow [Mitchell]: Ah have a new friend.
Joel [Mitchell]: Woah, hey, ah put a couple of rolls in mah pocket, is that okay?

[Mitchell gets up and goes to Cummins, who's having a cup of coffee.]

[Crow makes more slurping noises.]

Mitchell: What ah want to know is-

Cummins: The coffee's cold, Benton. You're a lousy butler.

Benton: I am not a lousy butler.

Cummins: You're a lousy butler.

Benton: I am not!

Cummins: I say you're a lousy butler, the coffee is cold!

Tom: Suddenly it's 'The Servant' by Harold Pinter!

Mitchell: Well, ah think ah've got to go.

[He drops his orange peel in Benton's hand and walks out.]

Joel [Cummins]: Now look, you made Mitchell leave!


[Mitchell parks his car and gets out, heading for his apartment.]

[Joel makes heavy breathing and gulping noises.]
Tom [Mitchell]: Oh man, ah'm so hungry. Only two steaks for dinner, didn't get to finish mah orange, all the frozen yogurt places were closed, huh! Big buttery moon up there, the sidewalk kinda looks like ice cream if you squint hard. Streets look like cake.

[Two goons sneak around the side of the building. Mitchell hears something.]

Joel: Mitchell's legions of fans show up at any time of the day or night!

[Mitchell gets out his gun and cautiously walks round the corner.]

Crow [Mitchell]: This'll be okay, ah don't - oof!

[One of the goons punches Mitchell in the face. A scuffle ensues.]

Joel: Jeez, those Jehovah's Witnesses are getting tough!

[Mitchell is punched repeatedly in the stomach.]

Tom: Oh no, they're going to end up with Mitchell's dinner all over them!

[Mitchell goes down by a garbage can. The goons lay into him.]

Crow [Mitchell]: No, wait, hold it, a little piece of bacon!
Joel: You know, is it wrong for me to want to see this?
Tom: Ooooh, right in the tenderloin steak region!
Crow [goon]: Sorry bud, we thought you were Rockford!

[One of the goons shoves a trashcan over Mitchell's head.]

Tom [Mitchell]: Hey, ah think this is rice- oh, no it's not.

[Jolly C&W music starts up.]

Joel [redneck narrator]: Well, ol' Mitchell shore got hisself hogtied an' railroaded thar.

Singer: Well, mah mah mah mah Mitchell, what would your mamma say...


[Mitchell's on his sofabed with Greta, writhing about under the covers.]

Mitchell: Would you watch mah ribs?

Crow: Oh, he's alone reading a comic book under there.

Singer: Cracking in heads, and jumping in and out of bed...

Joel [Greta]: Mitchell honey, you have anything New Age or something?

Singer: ...hanging round the criminal scene...

[Greta feels Mitchell's face.]

Joel: Oh, he's sleeping with Helen Keller.

Singer: you think you are/some kind of a star/like the guys on the movie screen? [And so on.]

Crow: Oh, how I long for the burning bed about now!

[Greta runs her fingers over Mitchell's greasy lips.]

Tom [Greta]: You've got a lot of junk around here...

[Shots of intertwined feet and Mitchell and Greta kissing.]

Crow [appalled]: Why would anyone want to *do* this with Mitchell, Joel?
Joel: Shhh!

[Shot of Mitchell and Greta nose to nose, in silhouette.]

Joel: A vase, or two faces, or...?

[More vile snogging.]

Tom [Greta]: Oh, Yanni... I mean John... I mean Mitchell!
[General sounds of disgust.]

[Mitchell picks up a four-pack of beer with his toe, holding the plastic rings.]

Joel [Mitchell]: Hey, watch this, ah learned it at college, check it out.
Tom: That's just *class*.
Crow: [Sound of can opening] Glug glug glug glug glug!

[Mitchell puts the cans back, revealing...]

Joel [horrified]: Baby oil! Noooooo!
All: Aaaaarghh! Urrrghhhh!

[More fat-encrusted smooching.]

Tom: Bleeeuuuurghhh!
Crow [to song]: Mah mah mah mah *god*! Noooooooo!
Tom: Kill me, kill me!
Joel [Greta]: Ah, could you just get aroused, Mitchell? Just a little?
[The Bots are weeping.]

[Later, thank god. Greta is in Mitchell's kitchen.]

Joel [Greta]: How about some BTO?

[Mitchell is going through her handbag.]

Greta: You went through that Tuesday.

Tom [Greta]: And I still don't have any Tic-Tacs.

Mitchell: Yeah. But this is Thursday.

Crow: He makes a good point.

[Mitchell finds some grass.]

Mitchell: You know you could get busted for this?

Greta: Guy who busted me'd have to be very straight.

Mitchell: You implying ah'm not straight?

Joel [Greta]: Ah, you're boozy, but loveable.

Greta: You're as bent as the Tower of Pisa. Only trouble is, you don't know it.

Mitchell: You really think ah'd take some sort of a payoff, huh?

[Mitchell stands in front of a poor painting of some flowers.]

Greta: You already have, haven't you?

Mitchell: Now wait a minute! You're a Christmas gift!

Crow [Mitchell]: And ah wanted a Super Soaker!

Mitchell: That's what you said? Didn't you? Damn right. Not to make me the co-operative type. You just watch your pretty mouth.

Greta: So bust me! You're a policeman, and that's grass!

Crow: Merlin Olsen sent him that painting.

[Greta smiles and gives Mitchell a big hug.]

Tom [Greta]: My Mitchell. I think I'll keep him.

Greta: Oh, come on. Come on!

[She gives him loads of sloppy kisses.]

Crow: Eeeew!


[Mitchell is forcefully escorting lindaevens to the duty sergeant's desk. (BTW, the sergeant is played by the guy who played Deep Throat in 'The X Files'. Just thought I'd mention it.)]

Crow: Are they done? Can I look?

Greta: Well, you sure know how to bring a girl down.

Tom [Mitchell]: Uh, double room please, one night.

Greta: He sleeps with me, then busts me.

Crow: First things first!

Mitchell: Well, she asked me to.

Sergeant: What, sleep with her or bust her?

Tom: Gumph!

Mitchell: Both.

Joel: Waah waah waah waaaahhhh...

Sergeant: That'll be taken into account when your case is heard. Have you any other offences you'd like for us to take into consideration while you're in this kind of a mood?

Greta: Yeah, getting hung up on this guy.

Sergeant: That's a mistake, lady...

Tom [Sergeant]: Didn't do me any good.

Sergeant: ...not an offence.

Greta: When can I see my lawyer?

Sergeant: We'll take care of it for you.

Joel [Sergeant]: You're sleeping with him at three.

Sergeant: It'll take an hour or so.

Mitchell: Hey, it's only a $500 fine. At a thousand dollars a night, you're still ahead.

Crow: Not after taxes!

Greta: Oh, you're a terrific human being, Mitchell. I had a clean record in this town!

[A hard-faced policewoman enters.]

Tom: Sirens!

Mitchell: Hey...

[He tries to kiss Greta, but she pulls away, as well she might.]

Sergeant: Make sure she signs the property receipt.

Crow [stern falsetto]: Nobody asked for a prostitute, we'll take her right away...

[The policewoman leads Greta away.]

Joel [Greta]: Are we still on for Tuesday?

Sergeant: Hey, did you really sleep with her?

Mitchell: Yup.

Crow [Mitchell]: And then ah kissed her, huh huh!

[Mitchell leaves, passing another cop in the doorway.]

Tom [Mitchell]: Hey, Wally.
Joel [cop]: Mitch.


[Mitchell toots his car horn. An annoyed Cummins comes out to see what's going on.]

Joel [sings, after 'beep beep']: At Beneficial, you're good for more...

[Shot of Mitchell looking dishevelled.]

Tom: The declining years of Lee Majors.

Cummins: Ask him to come in. Say that it's important, say that I have to see him.

Benton: Yes, sir.

Crow [Cummins]: Tell him we have sour cream.

[Mitchell looks in his wing mirror to see Greta in a little Datsun parked behind him.]

Joel: Man, this stakeout's getting crowded!

[Mitchell briefly looks at the camera.]

Tom [Mitchell]: Hi, folks.

[He gets out as Benton approaches and walks back to the house with him.]

Crow [Benton]: Duh, the steaks are ready.
Tom [Mitchell]: Can Linda come too?
Joel [Mitchell]: So tell me, Merlin, d'you know Roland Gabriel?
Crow [Mitchell]: Ah think you're a *good* butler.
Tom [sings]: Movin' on up! Wheezy!


Cummins: This way.

Tom: [sounds like "wall drums"?]

Cummins: You want a drink?

Joel [Mitchell]: Uh, is the Pope catholic?

Cummins: Siddown.

Crow [Cummins]: Wanna shoot a beer bong?

Cummins: All right, Mitchell, time we stop messing around.

Mitchell: What's that mean?

Cummins: I want to put you on the payroll.

Tom [Cummins]: We have an opening in retail.

Mitchell: On the payroll?

Cummins: Look, I'm in trouble. You sensed it, you know it, and I know it.

Mitchell: Specifically what trouble?

Cummins: You'll know when you're on the payroll. Now I get to ask the questions.

Tom [Mitchell]: Noted.

Cummins: I need help.

Joel [Cummins]: I got a purple mole on my back.

Cummins: I need help from any source that I can get it.

Crow [Cummins]: So I'm down to you.

Mitchell: Why don't you put it on the line?

Cummins: I want to buy your services. Your voice on the phone in case I need the help of your police department.

Mitchell: Let me just write the details of your bribe down, Mr Cummins.

[Outside, Greta deliberately drives her Datsun into the back of Mitchell's car.]

Joel: It's a Shriner's car!
[Tom hums Shriner-style music.]
Crow [Greta]: Hey, a place in the shade! Oops.

[Cummins hears the noise and goes to the window to see. Greta gets out and walks to Mitchell's car]

Crow [Greta]: He pulled out right in front of me!
Joel: She's got a David Cassidy haircut!

[Greta gets out a lipstick and starts to write on Mitchell's windscreen.]

Crow: Hah, she's gonna write 'redrum' on his windshield. R... E... oh.

[She actually writes 'JERK!']

Tom [Greta]: He'll think of me the whole time he's cleaning that off.
Joel [Cummins]: Er, were you expecting a prostitute?
Crow [Cummins]: Word on the street is you're a jerk!

Cummins: Could be open, cash... or subtle, just the way you take it from other people.

Mitchell: Ah don't take bribes.

Tom [Mitchell]: But ah do take [tequila?]

Cummins: My guy down at City Hall says he saw you in court this morning with a hooker that you sleep with and occasionally arrest.

Mitchell: What else'd he tell you?

Cummins: That she's too expensive and you can't afford her on a policemen's salary. Now *somebody's* picking up the cheque. Now who could that be?

Mitchell: You.

Cummins: Me what?

Mitchell: You're picking up the cheque.

Cummins: No I don't. I don't pay for your hookers, Mitchell.

Joel [Mitchell]: Well, could ya?

Mitchell: Then who is?

Cummins: You don't know? [Starts laughing] You're a cop and you don't know?

[Mitchell gets up and storms out.]

Tom [Mitchell]: No, ah don't.
Crow [Mitchell]: Ah specifically came here for dinner!

[Mitchell snaps his fingers for Benton to open the door.]

Joel [Mitchell]: Yeah, get me some flowers pronto, Merlin!
Tom [Mitchell]: No wait, ah'm not leaving without some tuna wiggle! [Benton closes the door.] Oh, damn.


[Mitchell drives up the house and stomps to the door, hammering on it.]

Crow: He's got a light-emitting bald spot.


[A black maid in a revealing frilly dress answers the door.]

Tom [maid, snooty]: *Some*one to *see* you, *sir*.

Deaney: I knew you'd call sooner or later.

Joel [Deaney]: So, are you ready to join Hair Club yet?

Deaney: Come on.

Crow: Joe Don Baker, face number four.

[Mitchell follows Deaney into his living room, checking out the maid's butt as she walks away.]

Joel [chiding]: Hey, Joe Don!

[There's a Christmas tree in the background.]

Deaney: Siddown.

Joel [Deaney]: Prostitute?

Deaney: How do you like your scotch?

Crow [Mitchell]: Uh, by the quart.
Joel [Mitchell]: Come on, more, keep it coming, ah'm a big boy, that's right.
Tom [Mitchell]: Ah usually take it with a Ding-Dong in it, but ah guess ah'll take it neat, that's okay.

Deaney: Y'know...

Joel [Deaney]: Booze is good food.

Deaney: ...I admire a man like you.

Crow [Deaney]: Not you *specifically*.

Deaney: You take your time, you're cool.

Tom: Yeaaaahhhhh.

Deaney: Yes sir.

Joel [of tree]: You know, he may be a bad guy, but he's got a ton of gifts up there.

Deaney: How's the broad?

Mitchell: That's what ah came to talk about.

Deaney: You know what it costs to keep you sweet? A hundred bucks an hour. Something that happens all night... well, you figure it out, that's like a thousand bucks before breakfast.

Mitchell: Far as ah'm concerned, she's just some broad looking for a little action.

Deaney: You want to see the receipt?

Mitchell: You're wasting your money, Deaney.

Deaney: Let me be the judge of that.

Mitchell: You're lining my bed for nothing.

Tom [Deaney]: Well, I guess I'll have to talk to my accountant.

Deaney: You really think so?

Joel [Mitchell]: Ah'm turning Japanese.

[Deaney gets up.]

Crow [Deaney]: Let me show you what I got for Christmas.

Deaney: I arrange a hundred dollar company in your name.

Joel: You mean Orion?

Deaney: We'll negotiate the transfer of a piece of real estate.

[Deaney walks around.]

Crow [as if reading cue card]: Cross to fireplace.

Deaney: For let's say...

Tom [Deaney]: ...I'm Rosalind Russell.

[Deaney lights a cigar.]

Deaney: ...$25,000. You haven't got $25,000, but I'll get you a bank loan. All legitimate. The piece of real estate you buy will be a piece I designate, and you buy it from one of my subsidiary companies.

Joel [Mitchell]: Oh man, I am *so* lost.

Deaney: Then I buy it off you, for let's say 100 Gs. That'll give you a clear profit of $75,000. And who's to say it isn't a genuine investment?

Tom [Mitchell, of cigar]: Is that a Slim Jim? Can ah have that when you're done with that?
Crow [Mitchell]: Do you open your Christmas presents on Christmas Eve or Christmas morning?

Deaney: So... what do you think?

Mitchell: Ah'm going to get you for that murder.

Joel [Mitchell]: But first, Merry Christmas.

Deaney: You're making the biggest mistake of your life.


[Shot of crashed beer cans and other junk on the floor. Mitchell's crashed out on his sofa bed.]

Joel: Yep, another Wednesday night at Mitchell's.
Crow: Our hero, ladies and gentlemen.
Tom [Mitchell]: Dammit, ah'm still not drunk.

[Another Hoyt Axton song starts up.]

Joel: Oh my goodness, I think B J Thomas is in his room!

[Mitchell listlessly slurps a beer.]

Crow [Mitchell]: Oh, yuck, ah got a cigarette in that one.
Tom [Mitchell]: Ah like to top off mah beer drinking with another beer. It's like dessert.
Joel: It's 'A Very Special Joe Don Baker Christmas'.

[Mitchell sits up and takes off his belt. Tom and Crow make huge farting noises.]

Joel [Mitchell]: Booze and I are buyin' a house together, we're gonna move in.

[Mitchell goes into the bathroom and takes off his shirt.]

Crow: He's going to strip down to his underwear and watch 'McQ'.

[Mitchell starts fiddling with the shower.]

Tom [Mitchell]: Huh. Wonder what this thing does? Water! Ah never knew that, wow!

[Mitchell looks as though he's about to drop his pants.]

Crow: Woah, no!


Crow: Phew! Well, thank god for the jump-cut!

[Mitchell pulls his car up outside the house.]

Radio announcer: ...Walter R Deaney died today when a dune buggy...

[Mitchell starts blasting the horn. Cummins glares at him from the house.]

Joel: Honey, church!
Crow [Cummins]: Mitchell, I'm not going to your folks' for Christmas!
Tom [Cummins]: Damn, I'm still in this 'Mitchell' movie!

[A small boy on a skateboard stops by Mitchell's car.]

Joel: Adam Rich!

Boy: Hi!

Mitchell: Hi.

Boy: Are you the man from the insurance?

Mitchell: No.

Boy: You came last night.

Mitchell: No.

Boy: My mother doesn't like you.

Mitchell: Well, ah don't like your mother.

Boy: Why not?

Mitchell: Why not?

Boy: No, why not?

Mitchell: No, why not?

Boy: Why're you repeating what I say?

Tom: Tonight, on 'Crossfire'!

Mitchell: Why're you repeating what ah say?

Boy: I'm not!

Mitchell: Well, ah'm not.

Boy: You are!

Mitchell: Buzz off.

[Joel puts his head in his hands.]

Boy: What?

Mitchell: What?

Boy: What'd you say?

Mitchell: What'd you say?

Boy: Didn't you say something?


Mitchell: Didn't you say something?

Boy: You told me to buzz off!

Mitchell: You're lying through your teeth!

Boy: You're lying through your teeth!

Mitchell: Buzz off!

Boy: Buzz off!

Mitchell: Buzz off, kid!

[The kid jumps on his skateboard and rushes off. Mitchell starts up his car.]

Crow: The inspiration for 'Cop And A Half'!
Tom [Mitchell]: Give him a half-block head start, then ah'm gonna mow him over!
Joel [Mitchell]: Oh, Schlitz would listen to me right now, that's for sure.

[Jaunty music starts up as Cummins storms over.]

Tom [sings]: Did you ever have to make up your mind...
Joel: The Lovin' Handful.

Cummins: Why don't you have me arrested?

Mitchell: 'Cause you want me to. No, ah don't want you on an assault charge. Ah want everything, you, Mistretta, and a lead to Galano and the lousy heroin.

Crow: ...a family, a career...

Cummins: Maybe you'll get 'em. I wonder if I should have a talk with you, Mitchell.

Mitchell: Ah wonder if you should too, Cummins.

Cummins: You scared to come in the house?

Mitchell: No.

Cummins: I give you my word that nothing'll happen to you this time.

Mitchell: Ah'm not scared of you, Cummins.

Joel [Mitchell]: But ah do have to use your washroom if that's all right.
Tom [Mitchell]: Let's get inside before that kid comes back again.
Crow [of JDB]: He's no Claude Akins, but what a butt!


[Benton opens the door for Cummins and Mitchell, who stroll in.]

Joel: Mitchell!
[Tom provides a few quiet 'wakka-cha-wakka's.]

Cummins: Siddown.

Mitchell: Well-

Cummins: Shuddup, son. You don't drink, do you?

Crow [Mitchell]: Just pour, dad.

Cummins: Well, this is the way it went. Mistretta made the setup.

Joel: With Galano.

Cummins: He did it so late, told me the heroin was on the water coming through my operation in San Pedro. Now he tells me when the stuff was already on the way.

Mitchell: Where next?

[Cummins puts the cap on the bottle.]

Tom [Mitchell]: Don't close it, don't close it!

Cummins: Mistretta phoned a little while back.

Joel: You mean Galano.

Cummins: With an ultimatum. I had an hour to reply.

Mitchell: What're you gonna do?

Cummins: Time to think, Mitchell. Now I'm going to call Mistretta back and tell him that it's okay to use my port facilities.

Crow [Mitchell]: Port? You got port here?

Cummins: Now I'm going to set it up, hand it all over to you.

Tom: Ta-daaah!

Mitchell: Now that sounds a little too good to be true.

Cummins: You buying?

Mitchell: How's the stuff coming in?

Cummins: You've got a rich woman in a big car that's going to pick up the luggage that she sent ahead after her vacation in Acapulco. You're going to be the chauffeur.

Joel [Mitchell]: Well, that's gonna be $3.50 an hour.

Cummins: You rendezvous with Mistretta.

Crow: Galano.

Mitchell: Where?

Cummins: He's got a house in Calabash. Now you get the heroin, you get Mistretta. You don't get me, understood? You don't get me.

Mitchell: All right, what time does this all happen at?


Crow: No time like the present!
Tom: Well, it's too bad that scene had to end, eh?

[Mitchell drives a big car with an old woman in the back up the dockside to a warehouse.]

Crow: Rich woman, big car, see, see?

[A customs officer in a busboy-style uniform brings out a large case. Mitchell gets it and puts it in the trunk.]

Joel [singing, barbershop quartet-style]: Sweet Adelide...
Tom [singing]: Bah dah dah daahhh...
Crow: No, Mitchell, no!
Joel [falsetto]: Oh, be careful with that horse, young man.

Customs officer: We'll need your signature.

[Joel and Tom start singing again.]

Customs officer: And if you'll fill out this customs declaration...

Old woman: And what do I write under 'contents'?

Customs officer: Personal.

Joel [falsetto]: And what time does your shift end?

Old woman: And value?

Customs officer: One hundred dollars.

Crow [falsetto]: No, I mean street value, punk.
Joel [of Mitchell's hat]: Wow, that Mitchell is really a master of disguise.
Crow [customs officer]: Just had a nice chat with your mom.

[Mitchell gets back into the car.]

Tom [falsetto]: Take me to Wendy's, I've got a meeting with Clara Peller.
Joel [falsetto]: We're going to control the ghetto, you and I, young man.

[Mitchell drives away. They pass Benton, who's wearing a sou'ester, in a phone box.]

Tom [falsetto]: Gotta keep driving, honky.
Crow [of sou'ester]: I can't wear yellow.


[Cummins makes a phone call.]

Joel: Guys, he's got a terracotta bowling pin lamp.
Crow: Certainly does.


[Hood 1 takes the call poolside.]

Hood 1: Hello.

[Intercut between Cummins and Mistretta.]

Cummins: Let me talk to Mistretta.

Hood 1: For you.

Joel [Mistretta]: Course it is, it's my phone!
Tom [Mistretta]: Galano here.

Cummins: Okay, Mistretta, the consignment's on its way.

Mistretta: I hope everything goes smooth.

Cummins: There's one slight alteration in the arrangements. You know that cop that's been bugging me, Mitchell? He's bringing you the stuff.

Mistretta: I don't believe you.

Cummins: Do.

Mistretta: Are you out of your mind?

Cummins: No, I'm going to be out on my boat.

Crow [Cummins]: Ha!

Cummins: Now you just tie up all the loose ends. Mitchell knows about the stuff. Deal with him in your own way.

[Cummins hangs up.]

Joel [Mistretta]: The boss is such a dink!


[Cummins makes another call.]

Crow [Cummins]: I'd better call mom.

Cummins: Oh, sergeant? You might want to tell Chief Pallin that one of his boys, that Mitchell character?

Tom [Sergeant]: Oh, the drunk one!

Cummins: Well, he's heading for trouble in Calabash.

Tom [Sergeant]: The cop that sleeps with hookers, right?


[Mitchell drives the old woman along.]

Crow [falsetto]: Ohh, I just felt the balloon break, ooh ohoo...

[Mitchell stops the car.]

Joel [Mitchell]: Ah thought maybe we could just stop here and just talk.

[Mitchell gets out.]

Mitchell: Step out.

Tom [Mitchell]: You know how fast you were just driving? Uh, ah was...

[Mitchell opens the trunk.]

Crow [Mitchell]: Okay, get in.
Joel [falsetto]: All right, let's see the skag.

[Mitchell uses a tyre iron to open the case.]

Tom [falsetto]: Oh, here, let me explain what you're going to see. Oh, ooh, now I only wear that on special occasions, heh...

[Mitchell finds a hidden compartment in the bottom of the case. Inside are some bags of white powder.]

Crow [falsetto]: Those are my fine washables, ehh...

[Mitchell dips his fingers into the powder and takes a taste.]

Joel: Jeez, Scarface didn't do that much at once!

Old woman: I didn't have anything to do with all this.

Mitchell: You mean this heroin?

Old woman: Yes.

Mitchell: It ain't smack, lady, it's chalk. Cummins is crossing Galano.

Tom: And we're passing the savings onto you!

Mitchell: You sure you want to be in the middle of this?

Tom [falsetto]: I can take the heat.

Mitchell: Come on, take a walk.

Old woman: What?

Mitchell: Walk! Come on!

Tom [falsetto]: But my varicose veins!

Mitchell: Come on!

Crow [falsetto]: But my hip!

Mitchell: Watch out for traffic.

Joel [falsetto]: What a nice young man.
Tom [falsetto]: Bite me, Mitchell!

[Mitchell closes the boot and rubs his hankie over it.]

Joel [Mitchell]: Quality's job one, yup.

[For no reason, Mitchell sticks his hankie into the car's filler cap and lets it dangle down below the bumper.]

Tom: Oh, he's going to take a little nip out of the gas tank.
Joel: He's doing a magic trick with the car!
Tom [Mitchell]: We've never met before, have we?
Crow: He's putting a dickie on his car!
Tom [Mitchell]: Now why did ah do that?

[Mitchell struts back to the driver's door and gets in.]

Crow [Mitchell]: Yeah, think things are turnin' around for ol' Mitchell, heh heh.

[Mitchell drives off.]

Tom [Mitchell]: Now just keep walking, lady, ah can still see you! Come on!
Joel: Mitchell put a handkerchief on the back of his car, run!


[Cummins and Benton hurry to a moored boat.]

Joel: Oh, come on, no, not 'Catalina Caper'!
Crow: Not the goofy guy.

[Benton scurries around in a rush to untie the boat.]

Crow: Well, you can't say they look suspicious or anything.

[The boat sets off.]

Tom: Think they should have brought food, or clothes, or something?
Joel: Okay guys, I call no singing the 'Gilligan's Island' theme.
Crow: I didn't even think of it.


[Mitchell drives along.]

Crow [to music]: Eischeid! Eischeid! 'Cause it's...

[Long shot of somebody watching Mitchell approach.]

Tom: The gods must be crazy, look!
Joel: It hurts.

(Continue to Part 4)

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