Red Right Hand: AREA FOUR: Page 17
*He is not a secret agent. Not at all.

 

AREA FOUR: Page 17



  • INT. LANDMARK LIQUORS - NIGHT
  • Florescent lights and low aisles. Swerve is mixing and matching different bottle of beer into one six-pack. D’Andre and one of HIS BOYS amble in, directly to the cashier, MISTER DUK (Vietnamese, elderly).
  • D’ANDRE
  • Yo, Long Duck Dong. It’s time.
  • MISTER DUK
  • No. Not today.
  • D’ANDRE
  • What do you mean, not today? You know this is? Do I need to get remedial with you? Explain it to you? In slow words?
  • MISTER DUK
  • I just say not today.
  • Duk looks over the aisle. Swerve glances up at just the wrong time. Lets a heavy sigh go. Looks back down at his mixed six. Duk realizes he has no back up. Hits the cash register. CHA-CHING. Duk hands over a stack of bills.
  • D’ANDRE
  • You oughta go to the doctor. Think you had one of them Alzheimer’s seizures.
  • D’Andre ambles out. His boy grabs a bottle of something on the way out. Swerve walks up to pay for his six-pack, starts peeling some bills out.
  • MISTER DUK
  • I know you. I know you’re police. Why you don't do something?
  • Swerve’s PHONE beeps.
  • SWERVE
  • They’d be back in an hour. Or tomorrow.
  • Checks his phone.
  • SWERVE (CONT’D)
  • And your rates would have gone up.
  • Duk pulls out two mismatched bottles. Swerve looks sheepish, but pushes his money on Duk anyway.
©2017 Michael Patrick Sullivan