Blood Simple

MEURICE: ...I mean, I don't know where he is, but he ain't dead.

ABBY: Meurice--

MEURICE: You don't look too good. You sleep last night?

MEURICE: ...Ray stole a shitload of money from Marty. Until both of 'em calm down I'm not getting involved.

ABBY: No Meurice, it's worse than that. Something really happened, I think Marty's dead--

MEURICE: What?! Did Ray tell you that?

ABBY: Sort of...

MEURICE: ...For you I answer the door. If you wanna stay here, that's fine. But I'm retired.

ABBY: Something happened with Marty and Ray--

MEURICE: Abby...

MEURICE: Jesus, I got a hangover. Want a drink?

ABBY: No, I--

MEURICE: Well I do...

MEURICE: Abby. What's the matter?

ABBY: I... I'm sorry, Meurice. I gotta talk to you... Can I come in?

ABBY: Thanks, Meurice.

MEURICE: Any time. But you don't have to worry about a thing for a while. Marty went down to Corpus yesterday.

ABBY: You're gonna keep an eye on Marty and Ray, make sure nothing happens.

MEURICE: It won't?

ABBY: Listen Meurice, you're gonna help me with a problem.

MEURICE: I am?

ABBY: ...So?

RAY: I think someone's watching.

ABBY: ...I don't know, wasn't it you? Maybe a burglar broke in, and you found--

RAY: With your gun?...

ABBY: ...But first I gotta know what happened.

RAY: What do you want to know?

ABBY: You broke into the bar. You wanted to get your money. You and Marty had a fight. Something happened...

ABBY: ...You leaving?

RAY: Isn't that what you want?

ABBY: ...Where is everything?

RAY: In the trunk.

ABBY: ...What's going on with you two?

RAY: All right...

RAY: ...Who?

ABBY: Marty.

ABBY: I... I mean what're you talking about, Ray? I haven't done anything funny.

RAY: ...What was that?

RAY: ...That's what's important.

ABBY: I don't know what you're talking about.

RAY: ...That's the only thing they told us in the service that was worth a goddamn--Where the hell's my windbreaker?

ABBY: What the hell happened, Ray?

RAY: ...Anyway, we got some time now. But we gotta be smart.

ABBY: Ray--

RAY: Abby, never point a gun at anyone unless you're gonna shoot him. And when you shoot him you better make sure he's dead...

ABBY: Well... what happened?

RAY: I cleaned it all up, but that ain't important...

ABBY: What happened?--Was Meurice there?

RAY: Yeah.

RAY: ...I just wanted to let you know that everything was all right. I took care of everything. Now all we have to do is keep our heads.

ABBY: ...What do you mean?

ABBY: ...You called me this morning.

RAY: Yeah.

ABBY: Why didn't you get into bed?

RAY: I didn't think I could sleep. I'm surprised you could. Are you all right?

ABBY: Yeah...

ABBY: ...What?

RAY: I said you're bad.

ABBY: ...Ray?

RAY: You're bad.

ABBY: Okay, see ya... Thanks, Ray.

RAY: Abby--

ABBY: ...You all right?

RAY: I don't know. I better get off now.

ABBY: Hello?

RAY: Abby... you all right?

ABBY: Ray?... What time is it?

RAY: I don't know. It's early... I love you.

ABBY: Nothing. He's like you, he doesn't say much.

RAY: Thanks.

ABBY: Except when he doesn't say things they're usually nasty.

RAY: ...Mm-hmm.

ABBY: When you don't they're usually nice.

RAY: ...You ever get tired?

ABBY: Huh? Oh, yeah, I guess. Mm-hmm.

RAY: Uh-huh.

ABBY: I said, Marty, how come you're anal and I gotta go to the psychiatrist?

RAY: What'd he say?

ABBY: ...He sent me to a psychiatrist to see if he could calm me down some.

RAY: Yeah? What happened?

ABBY: Psychiatrist said I was the healthiest person he'd ever met, so Marty fired him.

RAY: ...I don't know if you can fire a psychiatrist, exactly.

ABBY: Well, I didn't see him anymore, I'll tell you that much.

RAY: ...Well I'll be damned.

ABBY: I couldn't believe it either...

ABBY: I knew it. 'Cause we wouldn't have heard anything if it was him. He's real careful. Fact is, he's anal.

RAY: ...Huh?

ABBY: Yeah, he told me once himself. He said to me...

ABBY: I could've sworn I heard something.

RAY: Door's locked. Nothing there.

ABBY: Well... the couch would be all right...

RAY: You can sleep on the bed if you want.

ABBY: Well... I'm not gonna put you out of your bed...

RAY: You wouldn't be putting me out.

ABBY: ...Well, I'd be okay in here--

ABBY: ...I can find a place tomorrow, then I'll be outta your hair.

RAY: If that's what you want to do, then you oughta do it. You, uh... you want the bed or the couch?

RAY: Who was it?

ABBY: What?

RAY: On the phone. Was it for you?

ABBY: I don't know, he didn't say anything.

RAY: Uh-huh. So how do you know it was a he?

ABBY: You got a girl--am I screwing something up by being here?

ABBY: ...Drive me to a motel?

RAY: You can stay at my place, I'll drop you there.

ABBY: Where... where you going?

RAY: See a guy.

ABBY: Don't go to the bar, Ray. I know him, that ain't a good idea.

RAY: I just gotta see a guy.

RAY: Why d'you wanna leave all this?

ABBY: You kidding? I don't wanna leave all this, I just wanna leave Marty...

ABBY: ...Ray?

RAY: Yeah.

ABBY: What was that?

RAY: Your husband.

DEBRA: It'll pass.

MARTY: We don't seem to be communicating--

DEBRA: You want to hustle me. I don't want to be hustled. It's as simple as that. Now that I've communicated, why don't you leave?

MARTY: I own the place.

DEBRA: Christ, I'm getting bored.

MARTY: I'm not surprised, the company you've been keeping the last ten years.

MARTY: ...So what're you doing tonight?

DEBRA: Going out with Meurice.

MARTY: So how long have you know Meurice?

DEBRA: About ten years.

MARTY: You won't have to. I'll explain what a palate is.

DEBRA: You won't have to. I just wanted to see if you knew.

MARTY: Listen, I got tickets for the Oilers and the Rams next week in the Astrodome. Ever sat on the fifty yard line?

DEBRA: I don't follow baseball.

MARTY: If he does come in I'm not here... What were you drinking, Debra?

DEBRA: Remy.

MARTY: You've got a very sophisticated palate.

DEBRA: Thanks.

MARTY: Give Debra here another drink, and give me the usual.

KYLE: Sure don't.

RHODES: See, Wednesday's the special on RC Cola. I don't know if I explained about the TV option. If there's a TV in the room, you got to pay the option.

KYLE: And how many room got TV, Dusty?

RHODES: Ever durned one.

RHODES: I reckon I can hear him. TV option, that's a dollar twenty, makes nine eighty-six plus tax.

KYLE: Tell him the channels, Dusty.

RHODES: Channels, we got two and six. Two don't come in so hot.

KYLE: He needs a room, Dusty.

RHODES: I reckon I can hear him... ...Room rate's eight sixty-six a day plus sales tax, plus extra for the TV option.

MEURICE: Hold it, hold it. What's tonight?

MAN: What?

MEURICE: What night is it?

MAN: ...Friday?

MEURICE: Right. Friday night is Yankee night. Where're you from?

MAN: Lubbock?

WOMAN: ...What was that back there?

MAN: Back where?

WOMAN: Sign.

MAN: I don't know. Motel... Abby--

WOMAN: Ray. Did you mean that, what you said before, or were you just being a gentleman?

MAN: Abby, I like you, but it's no point starting anything now.

WOMAN: Yeah.

MAN: I mean, I ain't a marriage counselor--

WOMAN: Yeah.

MAN: ...You know that car?

WOMAN: No.

MAN: What's the matter?

WOMAN: I don't know... I just think maybe I'm making a mistake...

MAN: ...What're you gonna do in Houston?

WOMAN: I'll figure something out... How come you offered to drive me in this mess?

MAN: I told you. I like you.

WOMAN: See, I never knew that.

MAN: Well now you do.

WOMAN: ...Hell.

WOMAN: ...I don't know. Sometimes I think there's something wrong with him. Like maybe he's sick? Mentally?... Or is it maybe me, do you think?

MAN: Listen, I ain't a marriage counselor. I don't know what goes on, I don't wanna know... But I like you. I always liked you...

WOMAN: ...He gave me a little pearl-handled .38 for out first anniversary.

MAN: Uh-huh.

WOMAN: ...Figured I'd better leave before I used it on him. I don't know how you can stand him.

MAN: Well, I'm only an employee, I ain't married to him.

WOMAN: Yeah...

MARTY: ...You get a refund though, if you tell me who else she's been sluicing.

RAY: I want that money. If you wanna tell me something, fine--

MARTY: What're you, a fucking marriage counselor?

MARTY: Then what'd you come here for?

RAY: You owe me for two weeks.

MARTY: What "what"?

RAY: Am I fired? You wanna hit me? What?

MARTY: I don't particularly want to talk to you.

RAY: Well... if you're not gonna fire me I might as well quit.

MARTY: Fine. Suit yourself. ...Having a good time?

MARTY: ...Count it if you want.

VISSER: Nah, I trust ya.

VISSER: ...it's too damn risky.

MARTY: Then you shouldn't have done it. Can't have it both ways.

MARTY: ...I just made a call about that. It'll look fine.

VISSER: I must've gone money simple. This kind of murder...

VISSER: Something I got to ask you, Marty. I've been very very careful. Have you been very very careful?

MARTY: Of course.

VISSER: Nobody knows you hired me?

MARTY: ...What did you do with the bodies?

VISSER: It's taken care of. The less you know about it the better.

MARTY: Jesus, I don't believe it...

MARTY: Dead, huh?

VISSER: So it would seem.

VISSER: Just the ten thousand'll be fine.

MARTY: Got something to show me first?

MARTY: Yeah. Is it...

VISSER: Ya catch any fish?

MARTY: ...What?

VISSER: Ya catch any fish?

MARTY: Yeah...

VISSER: ...What kind of fish?

MARTY: Listen, what is it? Is it done?

MARTY: ...There's a big--

VISSER: I want you to go fishing.

MARTY: ...What?

VISSER: Go down to Corpus for a few days. Get yourself noticed. I'll give you a call when it's done... You just find a way to cover that money.

VISSER: I'm supposed to do a murder--two murders--and just trust you not to go simple on me and do something stupid. I mean real stupid. Now why should I trust you?

MARTY: For the money.

VISSER: The money. Yeah. That's a right smart of money...

MARTY: So, uh... this wouldn't interest you.

VISSER: I didn't say that. All I said was you're an idiot. Hell, you been thinking about it so much it's driving you simple.

VISSER: You want me to kill 'em.

MARTY: I didn't say that. Well?

VISSER: Well what?

MARTY: What do you think?

VISSER: You're an idiot.

VISSER: ...Gee, I'm sorry to hear that. Can you tell me what you want me to do or is it a secret?

MARTY: Listen, I'm not--this isn't a joke here.

VISSER: If the pay's right I'll do it.

MARTY: It's, uh... it's in reference to that gentleman and my wife. The more I think about it the more irritated I get.

VISSER: Yeah? Well how irritated are you?

VISSER: ...That's the test, ain't it? Test of true love--

MARTY: Got a job for you.

VISSER: ...Well, if the pay's right and it's legal I'll do it.

MARTY: It's not strictly legal.

VISSER: ...Anything else?

MARTY: Yeah, don't come by here any more. If I need you again I know which rock to turn over.

VISSER: Now that don't make much sense.

MARTY: No. It just made them feel better.

VISSER: ...Just doin' my job.

MARTY: You called me, I knew they were there, so what do I need these for?

VISSER: Well, I don't know... Call it a fringe benefit.

MARTY: How long did you watch her?

VISSER: Most of the night...

MARTY: What did you take these for?

VISSER: What do you mean...

MARTY: ...I don't want that asshole near my money. I don't even want him in the bar.

MEURICE: We get a lot of assholes in here, Marty.

MEURICE: ...I thought you were dead. Going home?

MARTY: No. I think I'll stay right here in hell.

MEURICE: Kind of a bleak point of view there, isn't it Marty?

MARTY: Meurice...

MARTY: What's this?

MEURICE: What.

MARTY: This.

MEURICE: Jack Daniels. Don't worry, I'm paying for it.

MARTY: That's not the point.

MEURICE: What's the point?

MARTY: The point is we don't serve niggers here.

MEURICE: Where? ...I'm very careful about that.

MARTY: Deuce in the corner needs help.

MEURICE: Right.

MARTY: What's this?

MEURICE: You said the usual--

MARTY: Red Label.

MEURICE: Right. Sorry.

MARTY: Pour that back.

MEURICE: What.

MARTY: Don't throw that out.

MEURICE: Right.

MEURICE: Yeah, I know. Pour 'em short.

MARTY: Has Ray come in yet?

MEURICE: No, he's off tonight. Where was he last night?

MARTY: How would I know?

MEURICE: I don't know, didn't he call?

MEURICE: ...and Abby. Maybe. But as far as I'm concerned that only leaves one fucking possibility.

RAY: What's that?

RAY: ...Why?

MEURICE: You shouldn't have taken the money...

RAY: Got a problem, Meurice?

MEURICE: No, you do, cowboy. You been to the bar?

RAY: Is Marty here?

MEURICE: Not here tonight. Wasn't here last night. He's especially not back in his office.

RAY: Thanks Meurice.

MEURICE: For what?

MEURICE: Howdy stranger.

RAY: Meurice. Sorry I didn't show last night.

MEURICE: Wasn't too busy. You missed a good one, though. This white guy walks in about one o'clock, asks if we have a discount for alcoholics... I tell him to get lost, but Marty's sitting here listening and I can tell he's thinking that maybe it ain't such a bad idea...

MEURICE: What day is it today, Angie?

WOMAN: Tuesday.

MEURICE: Tuesday is ladies' night.

WOMAN: What?

MEURICE: Tuesday night is ladies' night. All your drinks are free.

MEURICE: Where was I?

WOMAN: You we telling me about the Ring of Fire.

MEURICE: Yeah, well, I may be getting in over my head here, I mean you're the geologist, but my theory for what it's worth, you got all these volcanoes and each time one pops it's the equivalent of what, twenty, thirty megatons of TNT? Enough to light Las Vegas for how long? How many years? Course, I'm no mathematician but--