冰血暴  绑架  英文剧本  奥斯卡最佳原创剧本奖  美国

　　He has already seen the shower curtain on the floor. He
　　frowns， pokes at it with his foot.
　　
　　JERRY
　　…… Hon？
　　
　　UPSTAIRS BATHROOM
　　
　　Jerry walks in. He sets the groceries down on the toilet
　　tank.
　　
　　He looks at the open window， through which snow still sifts
　　in. He shuts it.
　　
　　He picks up the small tube of uguent that sits on the sink，
　　frowns at it， puts it back in the medicine chest.
　　
　　He looks at the shower curtain rod holding empty rings.
　　
　　FOYER
　　
　　Once again we are looking at the rumpled shower curtain.
　　
　　From another room:
　　
　　JERRY
　　Yah， Wade， I - it’’s Jerry， I.
　　
　　Then， slightly more agitated.
　　
　　JERRY
　　…… Yah， Wade， it’’s， I， it’’s
　　Jerry……
　　
　　Beat.
　　
　　JERRY
　　…… Wade， it’’s Jerry， I - we
　　gotta talk， Wade， it’’s terrible……
　　
　　Beat.
　　
　　LIVING ROOM
　　
　　Jerry stands in wide shot， hands on hips， looking down at a
　　telephone.
　　
　　After a motionless beat he picks up the phone and punches in
　　a number.
　　
　　JERRY
　　…… Yah， Wade Gustafson， please.
　　
　　BLACK
　　
　　Hold in black.
　　
　　A slow tilt down from night sky brings the head of a large
　　paper-mache figure into frame. It is a flannel-shirt
　　woodsman carrying a double-edged ax over one shoulder. As
　　we hear the rumble of an approaching car， the continuing
　　tilt and boom down brings us down the woodsman’’s body to a
　　pedestal.
　　
　　A sweep of headlights illuminates a sign on the pedestal:
　　WELCOME TO BRAINDERD - HOME OF PAUL BUNYAN.
　　
　　The headlights sweep off and a car hums past and on into the
　　background. The two-lane highway is otherwise empty.
　　
　　INT. CAR
　　
　　Carl drives. Grimsrud smokes and gazes out the window.
　　From the back seat we hear whimpering.
　　
　　Grimsrud turns to look.
　　
　　Jean lies bound and curled on the back seat underneath a
　　tarpaulin.
　　
　　GRIMSRUD
　　Shut the fuck up or I’’ll throw
　　you back in the trunk， you know.
　　
　　CARL
　　Geez. That’’s more’’n I’’ve heard
　　you say all week.
　　
　　Grimsrud stares at him， then turns back to the window.
　　
　　At a loud WHOOP Carl starts and looks back out the rear
　　window. Fifty yards behind a state trooper has turned on
　　his gumballs.
　　
　　Carl eases the car onto the shoulder.
　　
　　CARL
　　Ah， shit， the tags……
　　
　　Grimsrud looks at him.
　　
　　CARL
　　…… 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.
　　
　　CARL
　　…… Let’’s keep still back there，
　　lady， or we’’re gonna have to， ya
　　know， to shoot ya.
　　
　　Grimsrud stares at Carl.
　　
　　CARL
　　…… Hey! I’’ll take care of this!
　　
　　Both cars have stopped. Carl looks up at the rear-view
　　mirror.
　　
　　The trooper is stopped on the shoulder just behind them，
　　writing in his citation book.
　　
　　Carl watches.
　　
　　We hear the trooper’’s door open.
　　
　　The trooper walks up the shoulder， one hand resting lightly
　　on top of his holster， his breath steaming in the cold night
　　air.
　　
　　Carl opens his window as the trooper draws up.
　　
　　CARL
　　How can I help you， officer？
　　
　　The trooper scans the inside of the car， taking his time.
　　
　　Grimsrud smokes and gazes calmly out his window.
　　
　　Finally:
　　
　　TROOPER
　　This is a new car， then， sir？
　　
　　CARL
　　It certainly is， officer. Still
　　got that smell!