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　　fishtails out onto the boulevard.
　　
　　SCOTTY’’S BEDROOM
　　
　　Scotty lies on the bed， weeping. Jerry enters and perches
　　uncomfortably on the edge of his bed.
　　
　　JERRY
　　…… How ya doin’’ there， Scotty？
　　
　　SCOTT
　　Dad! What’’re they doing？ Wuddya
　　think they’’re doin’’ with Mom？
　　
　　JERRY
　　It’’s okay， Scotty. They’’re not
　　gonna want to hurt her any.
　　These men， they just want money，
　　see.
　　
　　SCOTT
　　What if - what if sumpn goes wrong？
　　
　　JERRY
　　No， no， nothin’’s goin’’ wrong here.
　　Grandad and I， we’’re - we’’re makin’’
　　sure this gets handled right.
　　
　　Scott snorfles and sits up.
　　
　　SCOTT
　　Dad， I really think we should call
　　the cops.
　　
　　JERRY
　　No! We can’’t let anyone know about
　　this thing! We gotta play ball with
　　these guys - you ask Stan Grossman，
　　he’’ll tell ya the same thing!
　　
　　SCOTT
　　Yeah， but -
　　
　　JERRY
　　We’’re gonna get Mom back for ya， but
　　we gotta play ball. Ya know， that’’s
　　the deal. Now if Lorraine calls， or
　　Sylvia， you just say that Mom is in
　　Florida with Pearl and Marty……
　　
　　Scotty starts to weep again. Jerry stares down at his lap.
　　
　　JERRY
　　…… That’’s the best we can do here.
　　
　　EXT. CABIN
　　
　　It is a lakeside cabin surrounded by white. A brown Ciera
　　with dealer plates is pulling into the drive.
　　
　　Grimsrud climbs out of the passenger seat as Carl climbs out
　　of the driver’’s. Grimsrud opens the back door and， with an
　　arm on her elbow， helps Jean out. She has her hands tied
　　behind her and a black hood over her head.
　　
　　With a cry， she swings her elbow out of Grimsrud’’s grasp and
　　lurches away across the front lawn. Grimsrud moves to
　　retrieve her but Carl， grinning， lays a hand on his
　　shoulder.
　　
　　CARL
　　Hold it.
　　
　　They both look out at the front lawn， Grimsrud
　　expressionless， Carl smiling.
　　
　　With muffled cries， the hooded woman lurches across the
　　unbroken snow， staggering this way and that， stumbling on
　　the uneven terrain.
　　
　　She stops， stands still， her hooded head swaying.
　　
　　She lurches out in an arbitrary direction. Going downhill，
　　she reels， staggers， and falls face-first into the snow，
　　weeping.
　　
　　CARL
　　Ha ha ha ha ha ha! Jesus!
　　
　　Grimsrud， still expressionless， breaks away from Carl’’s
　　restraining hand to retrieve her.
　　
　　BRAINERD POLICE HEADQUARTERS
　　
　　We track behind Marge as she makes her way across the floor，
　　greeting various officers. She holds a small half-full
　　paper sack.
　　
　　Beyond her we see a small glassed-in cublcle. Norm sits at
　　the desk inside with a box lunch spread out in front of him.
　　There is lettering on the cubicle’’s glass door: BRAINERD
　　PD. CHIEF GUNDERSON.
　　
　　Marge enters and sits behind the desk， detaching her walkie-
　　talkie from her utility belt to accomodate the seat.
　　
　　MARGE
　　Hiya， hon.
　　
　　She slides the paper sack toward him.
　　
　　NORM
　　Brought ya some lunch， Margie.
　　What’’re those， night crawlers？
　　
　　He looks inside.
　　
　　The bottom of the sack is full of fat， crawling earthworms.
　　
　　MARGE
　　Yah.
　　
　　NORM
　　Thanks， hon.
　　
　　MARGE
　　You bet. Thanks for lunch. What
　　do we got here， Arbie’’s？
　　
　　NORM
　　Uh-huh.
　　
　　She starts eating.
　　
　　MARGE
　　…… How’’s the paintin’’ goin’’？
　　
　　NORM
　　Pretty good. Found out the Hautmans
　　are entering a painting this year.
　　
　　MARGE
　　Aw， hon， you’’re better’’n them.
　　
　　NORM
　　They’’re real good.
　　
　　MARGE
　　They’’re good， Norm， but you’’re
　　better’’n them.