Showing posts with label The Accuser. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Accuser. Show all posts

Saturday, 6 April 2019

THE ACCUSED





Dean Keaton :








Keaton always said, 
‘I Don’t Believe In God, 
But I’m Afraid of Him —’

Well, I Do Believe in God;
and The Only Thing That Scares Me —
is Keyser Soze....


Our Lady of Mercy :
Now, what happened after the line-up?
The Desk Sergeant told me he couldn't release you. 
Can you believe that?
You weren't even charged!
New York police.
I want pictures taken of your face.
I'll take 'em to the DA first thing.

The Accused :
Forget about it.

Our Lady of Mercy :
No! I'll have this in front of a Grand Jury!

The Accused :
Look, I don't wanna talk about it, Edie. OK?
So what did Fortier and Renault say?

Our Lady of Mercy :
They need more time to think about it.

The Accused :
Dammit! More time for what, Edie?
No matter how you cover my tracks, 
they'll still find out about me.

Our Lady of Mercy :
Give me some credit. I got you this far.
Let's go to the Grand Jury. 


The Accused :
It won't stop!
Look, it's never gonna stop, period!
By next week every investor in the city's gonna be walkin' away from us.
It's finished.

I'm finished.

Our Lady of Mercy :
Don't give up on me now, Dean.

The Accused :
It's never gonna stop.

Our Lady of Mercy :
I love you.

The Accused :
They ruined me in there tonight.


I love you.
Do you hear me?

The Accused :
What?

Our Lady of Mercy :
All right.
Let's just go to my place.
We'll worry about this tomorrow.
Let's go.

The Accuser :
Fenster and McManus had a cagey proposition.
A fast jump, high risk, long money.
We all knew it could be done.
The way I figured, to do it wrong meant killing.
To do it right took five men.
Five men meant Keaton.
Keaton took convincing.


New York's Finest Taxi Service.

The Accused :
Bullshit.
Bullshit.
They don't operate any more.

The Accused :
McManus has a friend in the 14th Precinct.
They're coming out for one job.
They're picking up a guy smuggling emeralds. McManus already has a fence.

The Accused :
A fence? Who?


Some guy in California named Redfoot.

The Accused :
I never heard of him.


You have to come.

The Accused :
What's it to you whether I do it or not?

The Accuser :
They don't know me. 
You do.
They won't take me unless you go.

The Accuser :
Look at me. I need this.
Oh, you're telling me you don't need this?
Is this your place?
I'm not knocking you. 
You got a good scam going with this lawyer...


Sorry.

The Accuser :
It's OK. It's OK.

The Accuser :
You say it's the real thing, that's cool.

The Accused :
You OK?

The Accuser :
I was outta line.
But they're never gonna stop with us. 
You know that.
As clean as you could get, they'll never let you go.
This way we hit the cops where it hurts and we get well in the meantime.


You sure you're OK?


I'll be all right.
Look, I... I sometimes get...

The Accuser :
Forget it.
I'll probably shit blood tonight.

The Accused :
So... how do they wanna do it?


The Accuser :
McManus wants to go in shooting.
I say no.

The Accused :
Fenster? Hockney?

The Accuser :
They're pretty pissed off.
They'll do anything.
I got a way to do it without killing anyone, 
but they won't let me in without you.

The Accused :
Three million?

The Accuser :
Maybe more.



The Accused :
No killing?

The Accuser :
Not if we do it my way.

New York's Finest Taxi Service was not your normal taxi service.


It was a ring of corrupt cops in the NYPD that ran a high-profit racket driving smugglers and drug dealers round the city.



For a few hundred dollars a mile you got your own blue and white and a police escort.
They even had business cards.
After a while somebody started asking questions and the service shut down.
Since then Internal Affairs have been waiting to catch them in the act.
That's where we came in.


The Betrayer,
A Treacherous Blue Meanie Guard :
So, how was the flight?

A Thief :
Fucking great.
Will this get me to Staten Island?

The Betrayer,
A Treacherous Blue Meanie Guard :
You kidding me?
This'll get you to Cape Cod.


The Accuser :
McManus brought us the job. 
Fenster got the vans, 
Hockney supplied the hardware.

I came up with how to do it so no one got killed.

But Keaton? 

Keaton put on the finishing touch.
A little "fuck you" from the five of us to the NYPD.