冰血暴  绑架  英文剧本  奥斯卡最佳原创剧本奖  美国

　　In the back seat， Jean starts screaming.
　　
　　Grimsrud is not gaining on the tail lights.
　　
　　He fights with the wheel as his car swims on the road face.
　　
　　The red tail lights ahead start to turn. With a distant
　　crunching sound， they disappear.
　　
　　The headlights now show only empty road， starting to turn.
　　
　　Grimsrud frowns and slows.
　　
　　His headlights show the car up ahead off the road， crumpled
　　around a telephone pole， having failed to hold a turn.
　　
　　Grimsrud brakes.
　　
　　Jean slides off the back seat and thumps into the legwell.
　　
　　Grimsrud sweeps his gun off the front seat， throws open his
　　door and gets out.
　　
　　EXT. ROAD
　　
　　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 pitches into the snow.
　　
　　Grimsrud walks up to the wreck and peers in its half-open
　　door.
　　
　　A young woman is trapped inside the twisted wreckage，
　　injured.
　　
　　Snow swirls in the headlights of the wreck.
　　
　　Grimsrud raises his gun and fires.
　　
　　AN OIL PAINTING
　　
　　A blue-winged teal in flight over a swampy marshland. The
　　room in which it hangs is dark. We hear off-screen snoring.
　　
　　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
　　man， fortyish， pajama-clad， is big， and big-bellied. His
　　mouth is agape. He snores. His arms are flung over a woman
　　in her thirties， wearing a nightie， mouth also open， not
　　snoring.
　　
　　We hold for a long beat on their regular breathing and
　　snoring.
　　
　　The phone rings.
　　
　　The woman stirs.
　　
　　WOMAN
　　Oh， geez……
　　
　　She reaches for the phone.
　　
　　WOMAN
　　…… Hi， it’’s Marge……
　　
　　The man stirs and clears his throat with a long deep rumble.
　　
　　MARGE
　　…… Oh， my. Where？…… Yah……
　　Oh， geez……
　　
　　The man sits up， gazes stupidly about.
　　
　　MARGE
　　…… Okay. There in a jif……
　　Real good， then.
　　
　　She hangs up.
　　
　　MARGE
　　…… You can sleep， hon. It’’s
　　early yet.
　　
　　MAN
　　Gotta go？
　　
　　MARGE
　　Yah.
　　
　　The man swings his legs out.
　　
　　MAN
　　I’’ll fix ya some eggs.
　　
　　MARGE
　　That’’s okay， hon. I gotta run.
　　
　　MAN
　　Gotta eat a breakfast， Marge.
　　I’’ll fix ya some eggs.
　　
　　MARGE
　　Aw， you can sleep， hon.
　　
　　MAN
　　Ya gotta eat a breakfast……
　　
　　He clears his throat with another deep rumble.
　　
　　MAN
　　…… I’’ll fix ya some eggs.
　　
　　MARGE
　　Aw， Norm.
　　
　　PLATE
　　
　　Leavings of a huge plate of eggs， ham， toast.
　　
　　Wider， we see Marge now wearing a beige police uniform. A
　　patch on one arm says BRAINERD POLICE DEPARTMENT. She wears
　　a heavy belt holding a revolver， walkie-talkie and various
　　other jangling police impedimenta. Norm is in a dressing
　　gown.
　　
　　MARGE
　　Thanks， hon. Time to shove off.
　　
　　NORM
　　Love ya， Margie.
　　
　　As she struggles into a parka:
　　
　　MARGE
　　Love ya， hon.
　　
　　He is exiting back to the bedroom; she exits out the front
　　door.
　　
　　EXT. GUNDERSON HOUSE