The Rum Diary (2011) Script

Who is it? Room service.

Is it eggs?

I don't know, sir. I didn't order it.

You want some water with that?

No, no, not at all.

Looks like you had a night.

They look perfect.

Get out.

I intended to bring that to the attention of a member of staff.

I had some difficulty getting it to open.

It's the little key on the door key, sir.

Right.

I was looking for some nuts.

I tend to avoid alcohol.

When I can.

I don't speak Spanish.


Cuatro cincuenta. No change.


No, no, no, no, you're not listening.

I said the Pirates, not the Yankees.

It's going to be Roberto's year, I'm telling you.

Looking for Mr. Lotterman.

End of the room.

No, no, the Pirates.

You guys are going to be all over.

It's Roberto Clemente, man.

And by the way, I want to talk about...

Not now!

He's having the Friday crisis.

You Kemp? Yeah.

He was expecting you yesterday.

We had some weather.

Yeah, I heard.

Big snow in New York.

He's still on a call. You want some coffee?

No, thanks.

What's all the fuss out front?

You came in the front?

We don't use that door.

Not when los jibaros pitch up.

What do they want?

I don't know.

Some fucked idea of a living wage.

They've been out there on and off for months.

By the way, my name's Sala.

Bob Sala, staff photographer.

Pleased to meet you, Bob.

Yeah.

He's off.

You might want to try another subservient knock.

Yeah.

Kemp.

Don't notice the wig.

Yeah. What?

If you're who I think you are, you better sit down.

You find it a little bright in here?

I'd take them off, but I have a medical condition.

What do you mean, you're blind?

Conjunctivitis, sir.

The old red eye, huh?

You arrive at a very, very trying time, Mr. Kemp.

One of those days stacking up.

So, why don't we cut through the niceties and just get right to it, huh?

That's how I like to proceed.

Okay. Your resume here.

Very impressive CV.

Yeah.

You worked your way up some interesting titles.

I really like the "fluent Spanish."

This CV is a bunch of bullshit.

IS it?

This is two days on the wire.

A day dead. We don't have it.

What is the matter with Moburg?

He's about as useful as a dug-up body.

You see, the problem with this newspaper, Mr. Kemp, is that I am among many who don't enjoy reading it.

We have an ailing circulation, and I just have to look around this building to understand why.

Lack of commitment and too much self-indulgence.

So what I'm looking for is some enthusiasm, some energy, some fresh blood.

And the question that I'm asking myself is how much alcohol is usual in yours.

My fresh blood?

How much do you drink?

I suppose at the upper end of "social."

I'm poised to give up.

Well, Puerto Rico may not be the best place on Earth to do that.

Don't look so anxious, Mr. Kemp.

I wouldn't have paid for your hotel if I hadn't already hired you.

But this is not the Last Chance Saloon, and I do not need another heavy drinker.

Which I perceive, from the condition of eyeballs behind glasses, that you might very well qualify as.

This is a medical condition, Mr. Lotterman.

I know it might look like something else, but this is a...

Looks like a fuckin' hangover.

Does it?

Come here.

That's the kind of commitment I like to see in a man.

Determination, balanced with appropriate humanity.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

Which side do you dress, Kemp?

I beg your pardon?

Politics.

I kind of hang in the middle.

This is a schizoid society, Kemp.

They got two languages, two flags, two loyalties, two anthems.

We bring them stuff they never had.

They either hate it or they want more of it.

It's a reluctant part of America.

It's like an England with tropical fruit.

Bob.

Just the man I wanted to see.

This is Paul Kemp. He's joining us from New York.

Yeah, yeah, we already met.

That's Mr. Clive Donovan, sports.

And this is Mr. Hubert, accounting.

Listen, do me a favor, will you?

Show him around, the dos and don'ts.

Introduce him to some of the guys.

I'll take him up to Al's.

The hell you will.

You take him to the library.

You pull out some volumes.

I want him to get a sense of the paper.

You know, make some notes, go back a few years, paying particular attention to bowling alleys.

There's bowling and bowling alleys.

Very big here. They're up like mushrooms.

A new one premieres every week.

Been to Puerto Rico before? No.

You're going to fall right into it.

There's a boom on here, Kemp. It's an open door.

You play it right, you can surf the place.

What do you know about horoscopes?

Nothing.

Well, if I can write one, you can.

So it's every day with a special "Star's Star" featured Saturday with Betty Grable and Neil Sedaka, things like that.

So here, everything you need is right there.

It's called "Madam La Zonga Predicts."

What happened to Madam La Zonga?

He got canceled.

What do you mean, fired?

They raped him to death.

They raped him to death?

There are very few places on this island I decline to visit, but the toilets frequented by sailors on the west side of Candado Pier is one.

They raped him to death?

La Zonga died in a cubicle.

Say, you're not artistic, are you, Kemp?

Oh, no.

You might want to rethink those menthol cigarettes.

They don't do a thing for you.

Come by the house.

I will

I like your stuff.

The cuttings you sent to Lotterman.

It's good writing.

Thanks.

We'll talk.

One more floor!

They put in automated packing machines about six months ago.

They mechanized almost everything.

There used to be 50 guys down here. Now there's five.

Hence happiness in the street.

Souvenir, day one.

Here's to pretty women with filthy thoughts.

Want a burger? No.

Burger? No, thanks.

Try it. Dos.

So how was the induction?

Somewhat fraught.

No disrespect, Paul, but he didn't have a lot of choice.

You know how many people applied for the job?

One. You.

Is that right?

Even then, I thought I'd blown it.

Zeroed in on my weakest spot.

Which is what?

Two and a half unpublished novels and references of equal fiction.

You're a novelist.

In a manner of speaking.

Can't even get read.

So I figured I'd do some words for money, see how it's looking in a year or two.

At El Star?

Hate to tell you this on the way in, but this publication's on its way out.

And as far as I'm concerned, it can't come soon enough.

Not going to happen...

You like a little vonga on that?

I'll give you 13 to 2 this thing's over by June.

They're going to cut the cord.

Then why put in all the new machinery?

Precisely my point, and he can't answer it.

Well, like I'm tired of arguing the obvious.

Come on. Let's eat.

Now, I got to go and see a man about a horse.

Good to meet you, Paul.

Another night unfolds over Old San Juan.

You been here long?

Too long.

This place is like someone you fucked and they're still under you.

Why don't you quit?

Life's full Of exits.

Because I'm waiting for it to collapse so I get the payoff.

Three grand redundancy puts me in Mexico.

Don't look left.

That's an introduction you don't want to have.

Who's he?

Living example of everything that's wrong with this paper.

His name's Moburg.

Our Crime and Religious Affairs correspondent.

Lotterman can't fire him because he never sees him.

He's rarely out in daylight.

Looks like he enjoys a drink.

The entire substructure of his brain is eaten away with rum.

I'm telling you, this enterprise is doomed.

There's maybe three or four professionals in the building running the entire show.

Wait a minute. Who is Hal Sanderson?

In the library. Who's he?

He used to work for the paper.

Now he's what he says he is. A PR consultant.

Selling this place street by street to the Yankees.

Keeps a greasy little bastard of a contact called Segurra.

I saw him. We didn't meet.

Wouldn't bother.

Piss on the make.

The boy, Segurra, is at the property wickedness.

I'm not sure where Sanderson fits.

But Sanderson's worth cultivation.

He's got some good connections.

He's good for some freelance.

This place is depressing me beyond belief tonight.

You're at Plage Xanadu, right?

Come on. I'll give you a ride.

I was thinking, if you need somewhere, I got a room for rent.

Not the best address in town, but it's got a fridge and TV.

60 a month.

Sounds inviting. I might remention that.

Meanwhile, bleed it dry.

Sir...

I was hoping for a swim.

The pool is closed tonight.

Really? Why? What's going on?

It's a Union Carbide party.

It's a private function.


Sorry.

I didn't realize anyone was there.

I thought it was just floating.

It is just floating.

You doing what I'm doing?

I don't think so.

What are you doing?

Escaping the dreadful party.

I just snuck out and unzipped.

Well, that's very courageous of you.

I thought maybe you were a mermaid.

They tell me the coast is infested with them.

I'm from Connecticut.

My boyfriend's making a speech.

Takes exactly 21 minutes.

Well, then I guess it's pointless, me inviting you for a drink.

What you got?

No, I mean at the bar.

Pointless.

I'd better go before they wonder where I went.

Wait a minute. What's your name?

Let's keep that a secret.

I don't even know it.

Well, then you'll keep it even better.

What about your star sign?

I'm an experienced astronomer.

Could try Pisces.

The fish.

Oh, God.

Why did she have to happen?

Just when I was doing so good without her.

What would you say you like most about Puerto Rico?

The bowling alleys and the casinos.

Course, she likes the duty free.

Well, the more you spend, the more you save.

Have you seen a lot of the island?

We don't leave the hotel.

It isn't safe.

But you're having fun?

Oh, yeah! A lotta, lotta fun!

Have some fun with a fucking Luger.

These alleys are magnets to the glutton.

They come off the boats like locusts.

Beasts of obesity.

Asses that wouldn't feel an arrow.

The great whites.

Probably the most dangerous creatures on Earth.

There's your baby.

Walt and his woman.

Bowling alleys isn't exactly what I had in mind.

Tread it till the snow melts, then join the exodus.

Red light!

Looking for Kemp.

Too many adjectives, too much cynicism.

Nobody wants what's wrong with the place, they want to read about what's right.

It's a rewrite. Yeah, I'm aware of that.

And while you're at it, you might want to rewrite the title and call it

"Ten Things That I Love About Puerto Rico."

So, how's the sobriety coming along?

I'm cutting down.

By that, I assume you mean the size of the bottles.

How does anybody drink 161 miniatures?

You're averaging 93 miniatures a week.

What, do they stock the place four times a day?

Are they not complimentary?

No, Mr. Kemp, they are not.

And neither is wine and long-distance phone calls.

So, as of Monday, you are no longer a resident of the Xanadu.

And what exactly brings you into the building?

Don't hazel me.

I got the X-rays back. I got less than a week to live.

Hazel you? What are you talking about, you Swedish twerp?

You know, it may have crossed what's left of your mind that I have a newspaper to run here, that we have something called news going on out there.

But as far as you're concerned, I might as well look out of the fuckin' window!

What are you doing here?

This is a newspaper. There's nothing here for you.

Two of the best scoops you ever had came out of my brain.

And you better moderate your language or I'll go elsewhere.

Elsewhere where? You couldn't get work as a fly repellent.

You're worthless, Moburg.

The last onion in the jar.

Don't push me, Lotterman.

I'm dangerous when pushed.

I know why you're here.

It's payday...

But in your case, deferred on a permanent basis.

You're fired!

You can't fire me.

You owe me money.

And you better pay it, or I'll come through the roof and turn this place into an insurance claim.

Are you threatening me?

Hey, guys, let's take it easy.

You want to suffer some voodoo?

You twerp!

Eat the death pill, Lotterman!

Come on, we're walking.

Did you hear what he said to me?

This guy's my blood pressure.

This guy's going to kill me.

And I want the negative of that picture destroyed!

I don't want that animal in this building again.

He is hygienically unacceptable.

Did you see the side of his nose?

Blackheads like Braille.

They should have him put down.

Moburg is history.

He's out of here at the earliest opportunity.

And the earliest opportunity

is you.

You understand what I'm saying, Kemp?

I think I get the drift.

I want you to immerse yourself into this paper, 'cause you got the talent and I think you got the will.

You make it grow and you grow right along with it.

I'm not best placed to do that.

You think it's my intention to keep you on horoscopes and rewrites and bowling alleys?

Matter of fact, I'm gonna move you right now.

Take a cab to the airport.

The mayor of Miami's coming in.

Make him sound nice.

I want a picture and an interview.

Make it work, Paul.


You leaving us already?

I'm moving into an apartment if this mayor guy ever shows up.

They keep changing "delayed" to "delayed."

You want to have some breakfast?

Little lobster on the beach?

Twenty minutes away.

Sounds inviting, but I got to wait for the mayor.

Isn't coming.

Canceled.

That's not what it says on the board.

It will in a minute.

I just called Miami.

Come on, let's have some breakfast.

I got a couple things might interest you.

I better call in.

You can call from the car.

All right. Yeah, thanks.

There's only two of those on the island.

Maybe three.

No one told me it was so pretty here.

God's idea of money.

You know what makes this place a gold mine?

Something that doesn't exist.

How's that?

Land.

There isn't enough of it.

Those who know how to get it get the gold.


Chenault?

Paul's joining us for breakfast.

Looks like it's gonna be a lunch.

This is Chenault.

You two know each other?

I don't know, I thought maybe we met on the plane.

I don't think so.

I flew Boyfriend Airlines.

Tell me, do you like lobster, Paul?

You know what, I might not have time today.

I didn't realize the drive was gonna take so long.

How much time you got?

In 15 minutes, I'm late.

I'll cut up a pineapple.

You might want to put on some clothes.

She sunbathes in the nude.

A few of the over-tanned locals tend to treat it as a tourist attraction.

Doesn't surprise me.

I mean that in a very tasteful way.

It's a private beach.

They shouldn't be here.

Sit down, Paul, sit down. We'll grab you a cab.

His name's Harry.

Got the idea from a book.

Paul, I wanted to talk, because I'm looking for someone who can assimilate contradictory points of view and make them into one voice.

You're a novelist, right?

Who told you that?

Oh, please. Newspapers are full of gossip.

I'm looking for someone who's good with words, next day, you turn up.

And 'cause I believe in good luck, I thought maybe you were it.

What I need is someone with the right kind of eyes.

For looking at what?

Looking at that.

An ocean of money.

Hey, you made it.

Door at the end.

Hey. Hey.

Hey. Just give me two minutes.

Walk right in.

All right.


I was trying to get the place shipshape before you arrived.

"Adolf Hitler Speaks"?

Not mine. Nazi stuff belongs to Moburg.

Moburg lives here?

He keeps his uniform here.

I never see him from one month's end to the next.

So, you can see, it's quite spacious.

Don't look in the kitchen.

The water's off. There's a problem with the valve.

Thought you said you had a TV.

I said I kind of have a TV.

The guy across the alley has a TV, I have binoculars.

His wife's deaf.

With the window open, you hear every word.

Here it comes.

Water's coming up.

I noticed you had some chickens in the bedroom.

Cockerels.

Yeah, I'm sweating the grease out.

Don't worry about them, I'm moving them to my room.

What do you do with them?

You eat them? Eat them?

Nah. I don't eat them.

Come on, baby, come on!

Get in there, get in there!

Come on!

Hey, on a trade wind, my boy! On a trade wind!

Come on, bump it up, there, Bobby.

Bump, bump, bump, bump. Yes, sir!


Hey. They call him El Monstruo.

Say he's never lost a fight in three years.

Come on, we're out of here.

Come on, rapido, rapido.

Hey, hey.

Come on. Come on. Go on.


I tell you, we were on a roll till that thing turned up.

That's $217.

Not bad.

$217 is a shitload of money.

Relatively a shitload.

They're expensive to train.

I've seen guys win 2,000, ten on North Beach.

10,000?

Why didn't he take El Monstruo down there?

You're talking the environs of the Hilton Hotel.

They wear bowties and shiny shoes.

There's no hope for his kind of hat.

The question, again, is not one of goals.

We're for those goals.

It's one of means.

Were you claiming that the Eisenhower administration...

How long can this blizzard of shame go on?

Look at this ingrate besotted with his own righteousness.

Black is a very dark shade of white.

Well, thank you very much, Mr. Nixon.

I can't listen to any more of this.

Lies like he breathes.

Imagine spending your entire life lying.

Holy Christ.

Never got worse.

The only eventuality worse than him is you know that one day, some filthy whore-beast is gonna show up, make him look like a liberal.

The only upside with Nixon is he ain't gonna win.

He's got the grin.

He ain't gonna win.

Irish guy's going to win.

But they'll never let him live.

How do you know that?

I do "horror-scopes."

Thought you said he never came here.

He's got filters.

What filters?

He goes over the wall at the Barcardi plant.

These filters are the last in line in the distillation process.

They contain more ethanol than rocket fuel.

What's it like?

A hand on the brain.

Off the scale.

470 proof.

No such thing as 470 proof alcohol.

Certainty you might be required to moderate.

No smoking in the extraction area, if you please.

Don't be ridiculous.

Not for the social drinker.

You want to quaff?

No.

Not right now. I got to write.

I got a deadline.

What's he writing?

He's lifting the stone on the American Dream.

Guayanilla Bay.

Oh, yeah. It's bad down there.

You might find such a topic attracts a limited readership.

Only need one.

Taking it to Lotterman.

Yeah. Did I hear somebody say "good luck"?

Yeah, I went down there this morning, he unfired me on a temporary basis, maggot that he is.

I'd like to bring something in to Lotterman.

Like a slide-action, "fuck you" gun.

Don't drink that here.

Just a nipperoo, old boy.

Quality test.

Man, slow-motion murder, just like they do in the movies.

See him flying back, fuckin' arms flapping in the air.

Okay, mother.

Look upon the last face you'll see this side of hell!

Bam!

Down he goes, morsels of vital organs spinning off into flesh orbit.

Bam!

There goes his asshole.

Bam!

There goes his dick.

Bam! Bam!

Fuck you, Lotterman!

You're in a B-fucking movie, and I am the death machine!

Shall we have some Adolf?

Definitely not.

On your way, on your way, Moburg.

Hey, we're expecting guests.

I thought you said he was writing a book.

Said I was writing an essay.

And it requires some shut mouth.

Don't waste your time on those junkyard losers.

This country was built on genocide and slavery.

We killed all the black guys that were here, and then we shipped in new black guys of our own, and then we brought in Jesus, like a bar of soap.

Let's go.

You know it.

I am the religious correspondent.

Fuck off with your Jesus Police!

If the Bible's God's book, why didn't He give it to everyone?

"We give more money to parking meters than we do to kids to eat."

Don't read me like that. I've done the research.

12,000-ton rust bucket went down in the bay full of hydrochloric acid.

Killed off everything in the sea.

Killed off the fishermen. Their kids are picking garbage.

All right, don't get angry.

It's hot outside.

You want a Scotch?

Yeah.

Ten years ago... Five. Five years ago, I might have said go after it.

Now I say go with it.

There's nothing you can change.

Sometimes you just got to spew over the side and keep rowing.

Into a nut brown sunset.

It's the land of multiple outrage.

Thousands trodden on before you wake up for breakfast.

That isn't news, it's a commercial reality.

And providing it isn't their sunset, nobody gives one-fifth of a fuck.

You underestimate your readers.

I don't think so.

You underestimate me.

You told me to make it work, that's what I want to do.

Wind down this La Zonga crap and make a newspaper.

Let me tell you some home truth.

This paper's been on its knees to a bank since the day it opened.

And like most every other newspaper on Earth, it's financed by its advertising.

And without advertising, not only is there no La Zonga, there's no paper to put it in, so, thus, there are one or two things that we don't write about.

In other words, nothing at all.

In one other word, discretion.

You're not a foreign correspondent in some far-flung foreign land, this is America.

This is Puerto Rico.

This is America.

You think some plumber from Normal, Illinois, saves up for 25 years to come here on a cruise ship to read about bad times in the sugar plantation?

They don't give a fuck!

The average guy don't rock the boat, 'cause he wants to climb aboard it.

And our readership is vividly average.

They don't care who the losers are.

They want to know who won.

Who won the bowls, who won the races, who won the pot at the slot machines.

Look at me, Kemp.

You're not sleeping, you're wide awake.

And this is the American Dream.

So many hotels, you can't see the sea.

You can see the sea by checking into the hotels.

Pay to see the sea?

What's the matter with that?

You're paying to be in the dream.

There's a thin veneer, Kemp, between the dream and the reality.

You wake them up and the people might start asking for their money back.

You're the boss.

Not quite.

The editorial policy of this newspaper is owned by the dream.


Oh, God.

Oh, Christ.

Oh, God, look at that.

Oh, God!

Hal?

No, no, I'm a friend of Hal's.

I was looking at his boat.

She's a sweet little beauty.

You been aboard?

No.

Great little island hopper.

We've all been down on her.

It's a wonderful experience.

You two are early.

You got lucky.

Yeah.

Did you meet?

Yeah, we got first names.

Art Zimburger, late of the U.S. Marines, great friend of mine.

This is Mr. Paul Kemp, New York Times.

You're the writer.

Paul's a novelist.

New York Times?

He don't know one from the other.

Just go with it. This guy's key.

Key to what?

Key to the discussion we're about to have.

Look at those mothers.

Come with me, Kemp.

This is a private beach.

We are not on it.

No, but we are!

And what we do is private!

Now get the fuck gone!

Get the fuck out of here!

I see your face again, you're gonna have a 12-gauge shotgun telling you what to do.

Talking about Satan...

If there ever was a kingdom of Satan, the Soviet Union is it.

The only way to come to terms with Communism is to destroy it.

Hit it before it hits us in a devastating democratic strike.

No more for the major.

They're looking for a man to push that button, I am that man.

Yes, you are, honey.

You look ravishing, Chenault.

Thank you.

You need rescuing?

Don't take him away.

He's very entertaining.

We were discussing Cuba and, I don't know, we kind of veered off, didn't we?

Paul presents us with a somewhat liberal point of view.

There is no such thing as a liberal.

A liberal is a Commie with a college education thinking Negro thoughts.

Well, here's a fact for you.

76.4% of all Negroes are controlled from Moscow.

That's why Castro gets such an easy ride.

In my view, we ought to bomb Cuba off the face of the Earth, let its people live in peace. Art.

Hey. Come on, let's eat.

Come on.

Who's the guy in the shades?

Segurra's Daddy. It's who you're waiting for.

Thank you for my roses.

I didn't think you noticed.

Of course I noticed.

Paul, would you mind joining us?

How do you do, sir?

Mr. Kemp. Nice to see you.

Mr. Kemp.

Okay.

Let me just start by saying this is a purely informal meeting.

And, incidentally, you don't worry about Lotterman, okay?

Lotterman?

What the hell's Lotterman got to do with The New York Times?

Mr. Kemp subs for a variety of newspapers.

Occasionally, he writes for the news.

What he does in his spare time is his affair.

That's how I like it.

We'd like you to do some writing for us.

So I gather.

About what?

In a sentence, we want to set something up, and have the public as our friends.

And there are a variety of ways we can do that.

Let me tell you how this kind of thing works, Paul.

Suppose, by way of example, you wanted to put up taxes by 5%.

The smart way of doing it is to float the idea of a 10% hike.

Let them all shout about it, get themselves in a fuss, then you offer concessions.

"How about 7%?" "No way," they'll say.

"All right, let's stay friends and make a compromise at five."

Bingo.

They think they won something, you get the 5% you wanted in the first place.

Same thing applies to real estate.

You want to build five houses, you put in a planning application for 50.

How many do you want to build?

None.

We want to build one hotel.

Well, looking around this place, I don't think anyone would notice.

It isn't in this place.

It's an island.

Sensitive for a variety of reasons we don't want to get into now.

Nobody wants a paradise choked with hotels, but everybody will be pleased to compromise at one.

This is going to require some clever writing in various carefully placed articles.

Isn't that kind of thing illegal?

If I may say, Mr. Kemp, that's an inappropriate comment.

Where's the island?

Can't tell you.

Not yet.

Discretion is paramount, Mr. Kemp.

If you want to join us, you'll have to sign some papers.

We're having a meeting tomorrow in Hal's office.

If you want to be part of what will be a very exciting project, come along.

There's a man outside in a funny little car for Paul.

Oh, yeah.

Gentlemen, if you'll excuse me.

I have to run.

Can't stay?

I hear the mermaids come out in the moonlight.

From the moment we met, I knew there was going to be something between us.

It's called her fiancé.

God, I'm so hopelessly and progressively in love.

Do not confuse love with lust, nor drunkenness with judgment.

You want my advice?

No. If it involves her, no, I don't.

Stay away from her.

And stay away from Sanderson.

You're way out of depth.

I got no brief for Sanderson or his pissy rip-off island.

I just want some apple blossom lipstick and fucks.

You are in total denial.

She's fucking someone else.

And as I understand it, about to be married to him.

You won't even make an invite.

I don't believe this.

We're right back where we started.

That is the same Cabrones we passed ten minutes ago.

We need directions.

Let's get in there and get something to eat.

No.

Please, no.

I haven't spent all day on a beach munching lobster with criminals, and I'm starving.


Two beers, two rums, one steak.

The kitchen is closed.

All right then, two beers and two rums.

And one steak.

Cerrado, Mister...

Yeah, but let's not bother me with that.

You got a sign down there saying, "Food till midnight," and I want a steak.

Girl of the swamp.

Which reminds me, we need a map.

You know what I think?

I think we're drinking too much rum.

There's no other way.

I'm getting double ashtray and double salt pot.

You got a Moburg bifocal.

Christ, this is heinous.

Imagine what it must be like to be an alcoholic.

$2.

You pay and you go I don't see a steak.

No steak.

What do you mean, no steak?

I think he means no steak.

The kitchen is closed.

I got no way of serving you.

Listen, you don't want to hear about my bad day, and I don't want no grave side out of you.

If you can't cook it, bring it like it is. I'll eat it raw.

Two dollars, you pay and go.

Don't bother me.

You pay now, or I call the cops.

If you have no intention of serving me steak, why don't you do your best to fuck off.

It seems to me there's a bad vibe developing.

There are one or two oddities giving us the eye.

Don't get paranoid.

He's on the phone.

For what?

Ordering food in a restaurant?

Let's hope he's through to the FBI.

What's the matter?

What are you smiling at?

I'm not smiling.

I'm maintaining a casual face.

A man just walked in and has good reason for regarding us in a negative light.

Us? Me.

And he's just seen me And he wants revenge on the white man.

The fuck are you talking about?

How about the one with the dent?

The one with the eye?

The very same.

Do we walk or run?

Walk.

I'll push the car.

Let's walk and hope he's happy.

Hey, Yankee.

Yankee!


Don't let me see headlights.

Please don't let me see headlights.

I just seen headlights.

Put your foot down.

Where exactly do you think I got it?

Can you go faster?

Going fast as I can.


Jesus Christ, man.


We're gonna be killed! We're gonna be killed!

Hey!

Get ready to run.

Run in opposite directions.

Give me the brew!

Give me the fucking brew!

Paul!


Piece of luck. I just saw Moburg.

At least I think he saw us.

They got some kind of night court going.

He says we were animals on a rampage of drunken anarchy, poured gasoline on one of his cops.

Oh, my God, we're doomed.

You have something to say?

Yes, Your Honor, I do.

Firstly, this guy handcuffed to me, I never seen in my life.

And second, we'd like a translation of the charges.

You heard what they said?

With respect, I heard people speaking Spanish.

What kind of language do you think we speak in this country, Mister?

He's not with us.

The cops attached him to get a conviction.

Did you leave the Café Cabrones without paying?

Did you set fire to the police officer, yes or no?

Unfortunately, Your Honor, he got in the way of our flame.

That's right.

No way did we pour gasoline on his head and laugh as we did.

It wasn't like he said.

Like he said?

Like you say you don't speak Spanish.

Mr. Kemp doesn't speak Spanish.

Well, he will have plenty of opportunity to learn.

The charges against you are grave.

Resisting arrest carries a tariff alone of one year in prison.

Never mind assault with a deadly weapon.

I'm going to refer this case to a higher court.

Meanwhile, I remand you both in custody for 30 days.

If I may, Your Honor.

Go ahead, Mr. Sanderson.

Thank you, Your Honor.

It isn't my purpose to interrupt proceedings, but if the intention is to remand these gentlemen, I would respectfully ask for a brief recess to allow me to contact their counsel.

Who is who?

Alfredo Quinones.

It would necessitate getting him out of bed, of course.

But given the importance of these gentlemen to various interests, I'm sure that he would be as pleased as I to come down here at 3:00 in the morning.

How much did we cost him?

About $1,000 apiece.

I can't thank you enough.

Don't be late.


Mother of balls!

We got to rescue the car.

Not now. We'll do it later.

I've got a meeting.

We do not have later.

They've already had it 12 hours.

I know how these bastards work.

They can strip a train to axles in 12 minutes.

We'll be lucky to find an oil spot.

How long is this gonna take?

How would I know?

I can't be late.

I don't know why you're going at all.

That guy is bad company.

He's a manipulative prick.

He manipulated us out of jail, didn't he?

Now he fucking owns us.

I got a tongue like...

Like a towel.

Want a beer?

Do I want a beer?

No, I do not.

I am never gonna touch alcohol again.

What fresh hell is this?

Front seat's gone.

That's a write-off. Isn't it?

You know what, I've got a brilliant idea.


What's that?

There's too much weight on the axle.

Try and move forward a bit.

Gonna be late.

I'm gonna be a week late.

What are you doing, Sala?

I suddenly realize how much I like you.

What do you mean, what am I doing?

There's something wrong with the axle.

Oh, my God, it's the cop we set on fire.

Try and look normal.

Make a right! Make a right!

What right? There is no right. Any right!


There he is. Paul, come in.

Sorry. There were unexpected developments.

I had to go home and start the day again.

Tell me about it. Some days are two sizes too small.

Well, I'm afraid some of us had to leave.

But, Mr. Zimburger you know.

And this is Mr. Green of First National Maritime Bank.

You want some coffee?

I think we should move right along, Hal.

I gotta go. Sure.

Sit down, Paul.

As you may know, Mr. Kemp, the island is owned by the U.S. government.

Part of it presently used as a target range by the Navy.

We know from internal sources...

Is that what you're calling me?

That the government is preparing to relinquish the lease, and this place wakes up as 32 square miles of magnificent and untouched real estate.

Knock your eyes out.

No prettier beaches in the Caribbean.

Orientated around one hell of a beautiful marina.

Thought it was one hotel.

We start with one hotel.

It's a foot in the door.

Once we're up and running, we're servants of a market.

Like here? Like here.

You look worried, Mr. Kemp.

He's not worried.

Paul and I shared a tricky little night.

Right, Paul?

Neither of us got much sleep.

I gotta 90, guys.

Well, we'll leave you gentlemen to it.

Has Mr. Kemp signed the papers?

Doing that right now.

What am I actually signing?

Just a confidentiality agreement, affirmation of trust.

Just so we're all sitting in the same Jacuzzi.

In case a turd floats up, if you know what I mean.

Come on, Paul, let's go over here.

Here you go.

It's just a technicality, Paul.

Means you promise not to talk to anybody about the project.

How's the head?

Unpleasant.

Gotta thank you again for putting up the bail.

It's held on my cognizance.

And I think it more than likely to slip various minds.

This place is a sea of money, Paul.

Unbelievable money.

Practically every major corporation hides its cash offshore.

No, thanks.

And that is good news for us, because we are the shore.

Not one dollar that wings its way into Puerto Rico pays a cent in tax.

Nothing? Not penny one.

That includes chemical companies, oil companies, mining companies.

There's $12 billion worth of copper in mountains less than 20 miles from here.

A dozen billion dollars.

And there's people like me who know how to get it out.

So, putting it into context, I don't envisage the breaking of bones to get at a thousand bucks.

Because you weren't here, I agreed to an itinerary with Zimburger on your behalf.

You'll be traveling down in the morning. Hope that's okay.

What do you need, Paul?

Well, just in the context of this Zimburger thing, do you think there's a possibility of an advance?

I don't like to ask, but Lotterman's pretty erratic with the paycheck, you know.

Need to get a hold of a car.

You don't have a car?

Nothing too reliable.

Plus, sooner or later, I'm gonna have to find a decent place to live.

Well, we can help you with that.

When you get back, we'll sort you out something with a view.

Carol, what do we have in the garage?

No, no, no, no, no, no, not that.

Yeah, that's fine. Okay, thank you.

Got you a car. She'll give you the keys on the way out.

Feels like 500?

Yeah. Thanks.

Paul...

How's your afternoon?

A half-written horoscope.

Do me a favor, will you? Drive out to the beach and pick up Chenault.

I need her downstairs by 6:00.

All right.


So, this one?

Or...

This one?

What are these for, a party?

It's for carnival.

Didn't he say anything to you about it?

No. You've got to come.

We're all going down on the boat.

He didn't invite me.

Well, it isn't his carnival.

This one.

I like the other one.

Yes.

Love this car.

Did he give it to you?

I Wish.

Fast.

You want a little bet?

A bet about what?

That you scream before I do.

That I scream before you do, in relation to what?

Well, how fast does it go?

I don't know.

That's the bet.

I already crashed one car today.

It's okay. I'll just go sit in the foyer and wait for him.

What do I get if I win?

I'll let you know if you do.


Come on, I'll take you back.

Christ, where'd they get this?

I don't remember. I've been slightly avoiding Lotterman.

You have me to thank for your freedom.

Thanks.

I got a feeling of total anxiety trying to put my anxieties together in a single, coherent lump.

I'm fucked without a car.

I got us a car.

It's the Chevy downstairs.

It belongs to Mr. Sanderson.

So what?

I gotta go type this up.

I don't know what's going on.

He's freaking out and we're down 12 pages.

You better frigging do it!

I see your filthy animal face in here again, I'll have you locked up!

What part of the building are you creeping towards, Sala?

Darkroom. Cops are looking for you.

Looking for me? Looking for you.

And it ain't just your mug in the paper!

What a day.

What a week.

I tell you, I'm out of here.

One way to friggin' Mexico.

Listen, I got a trip tomorrow. Sanderson's island.

No, no, no. Oh, dear.

It's green money, and I'm thinking of cutting across for the carnival.

You know they got that carnival in Saint Thomas.

I know.

Why don't you come with me?

Give the cops a few days to forget.

Yeah. Fun.


Our guys. 12-inch Naval, 14 miles out.

Nobody lives here?

No one who's staying.

Lazar!

Mr. Zimburger.

This is Mr. Lazar, our much put-upon site architect.

How do you do. Hello.

Mr. Monk, I think you know.

I assist Mr. Green, First Maritime Bank.

This is Mr. Kemp from The New York Times.

What did you say your name was?

Bob Sala. Yeah, Sala.

From American Travel Writers Association.

Mr. Kemp is preparing our brochure.

"Wish you were here."

Beer in the cooler, gentlemen.

I have everything next door.

This and this are the main hotels.

22 floors.

Guardians of the bay, so to speak.

Why the different colors?

Blue is for public dissemination, red is for the investors.

Yeah. Hill villas, ocean condos.

Marina.

Parking for 2,000 cars.

There's no roads.

Damn it, Lazar, you forgot the roads!

We're building them. We're building them.

Let's have some lunch.

10,000 waiters, maids, bellhops, janitors, clerks.

Plus, whores for the fat man.

Hard to believe they'd do it.

I was talking to that architect kind of guy.

He's going to Saint Thomas, if you want a ride.

When?

How do I know when?

When he's finished here.

You know what Oscar Wilde said?

"They know the price of everything, "the value of nothing."

Two rums.

I thought you'd given up.

Finally beat my willpower.

Come on, let's go here.

Hey. Hey, come on, amigo!

Hey, Rosie's a singer.


Paul!

Where's Hal?

Boat Boat?

Help me find my girlfriend.

Hey! How are you?

Watch your step.

Thank you. All right.

There we go. Thank you.

Hi.

Look at you.

Good. Grab some champagne.

Hey, Captain.

Hey. Hey.

Did you take Sala to the island?

You shouldn't have done that, Paul.

It's why we have a confidentiality agreement.

He isn't interested.

He's got a mouth like an AP wire.

I just don't know what he was doing there.

And I sure as shit don't know what he's doing here.


Not going glum on us, are you?

Just thoughts.

What's the book?

The Rime of the Ancient Mariner.

It was written in 1797 by a junkie called Coleridge.

He wrote that when he was 25 years old.

I've been dragging a typewriter around with me for 10.

I've written nothing.

You've written some books.

Nah.

They had no voice.

I don't know how to write like me.

I resent that.

No, I really have to say he's all right.

I have to admit.

Fair is fair. Fair is fair.

Thank you for the afternoon.

Maybe we'll see you in town.

Where you going?

Her friend's playing in a band.

We're gonna go check it out.

We want to come.

I'll rephrase that.

We don't want to come.

Yes, we do. Us girls want to dance.

You're dancing tomorrow.

What's the point of going to carnival if everything is preplanned?

I want to dance, and if you're not going to take me, I'm gonna go with them. She's got you trumped, Hal.

Sit down. You're drunk.

So what? So is everyone else.

Come on.

Come on, let's do it. It might be amusing.

Oh, cuidado. Careful.

Here we go.


Yeah.

We're done. We're spent.

You're gonna go? Yes, we're gonna leave.

You're done?

I can't dance no more. Really.

Hold on. You know what? I'll be out. Let me just get Chenault.

You want rum or beer?

Both.

Dos rum, dos cervezas.

We're gonna go.

Hey. We're gonna go.

What? Natalie's leaving, so let's go. Hey, hey.

Come on, come on. No, no, no, no.

Chenault, come here. We're leaving.

Chenault. Stop it!

Chenault!


Chenault, come here! Chenault!

Get your hands off me, you motherfucker!

You want to fuck with me?

You know who I am?

You motherfucker!

You know who I am?

You're a dead man! Go! Go!

Get your hands off me.

You're a dead man! Go!

Forget it.

We'll call you a cab. Fuck off!

I gotta get the girl.

She's having a good time. We closed.

You deaf?

I said we closed.

No way, Paul.

No way.


I looked everywhere.

I went to the gendarme.

And?

We went up there.

Nothing. Nobody there.

But an old woman with a mop.

She was more help than the cops were.

"What can I do if your girlfriend likes someone else?" he said.

He's right about that, Paul.

She's not your girlfriend.

Maybe she went back to the boat.

Did you try the boat?

No.

I don't think he'd let her back on.

Is she with you?

Is she with you?

Why don't you mind your own goddamn business?

I want the keys.

The Chevy.

You blew it, Kemp.


It's all rust.

I've seen better tires hanging over the side of a tug.

You want it or not?

Yeah, we want it.

Everyone turns up for their Friday check, right?

No check, no Lotterman.

So I go around to see that unforgivably ugly wife of his.

She tells me he's gone to Miami.

For what?

You don't know, I don't know.

But the scabs are back.

Since Morell went, the paper took a turn for the worse.

Is there anything in the spinner?

We need a fresh sack.

Well, maybe I can interest you gentlemen in something else.

Like what, death?

Like the most powerful drug in the history of narcotics.

I'm not at liberty to discuss or disclose.

All I can tell you is this stuff is so powerful, they give it to Communists.

Who does?

The FBI.

Why would the FBI get Communists high?

That I can't help you with.

You take it like eye drops.

In the eye?

So I understand.

It makes the eye see things.

You see a different reality.

What do you want for it?

I'll throw it in with the bike if you do me a favor.

What's the favor?

I want you to come to the bathroom with me.

He's your man.

$50, right? Yeah.

He wants me to look at his dick.

I flatly refused.

What does he want you to look at it for?

Says there's something wrong with it.

It's a gentleman's matter.

I'm not looking at it!

All right, give me the drugs back.

No! Wait.

I'll look at it.

I'll view it in the mirror.

Is it clap?

A standing ovation.


You see anything?

No.

Neither do I.

We'll give it another five minutes.

Trouble making ends meet?

- Then, you need the Lending Man. Right.

Call the Lending Man now.


How long since we took it?

I don't know.

A while.

Bullshit, isn't it?

Is it bullshit?


Jesus.

Your tongue is like an accusatory giblet.

For Christ's sake, keep it out.

What are you talking about?

Your tongue belongs to Satan!

Are you out of your mind?

Keep it out!

If it goes back into your mouth, it'll kill you.

We've got to get it into the sink!

You're giving me fear.

Stop it! I've got fear!

Fuck you. So do I.

You're high, you fool.

Drink some rum.


I thought I was losing grip in there.

What did we take?

I don't know.

We need to get some more.

That explains it.

Doesn't it?

Explains what?

The world.

And us.

I wonder what it is you might think about our different worlds.

He looked at me kind of sideways and said, "Human beings are the only creatures on Earth

"that claim a God.

"And the only living thing that behaves like it hasn't got one.

"Does the world belong to no one but you?"

And when he said it, I was taken aback.

Not because of who was doing the talking, because I finally understood the connection between children scavenging for food and shiny brass plates on the front doors of banks.

Gotta go.


Come in.

Come in.

We gotta go.

Give me a minute.

I'll be waiting for you downstairs.

How nice of you to drop in.

I was covering the carnival.

That's not what I heard.

I heard you were in the moonlight for Sanderson.

I was what?

Moonlighting for Sanderson.

Where's Segurra?

Mr. Segurra's no longer with us.

I got a story for you.

Yeah, you may have noticed that I'm somewhat busy.

This is real important, involving Mr. Segurra and Mr. Hal Sanderson.

I'm gonna tell you how important it isn't.

I got 21 jobs on the line and a newspaper going under.

Print this, and you'll sell it.

A planning scam.

Literally despoliation of a paradise.

A thousand people will be swept into the sea like garbage.

You are weird, Kemp.

It's not what it's doing to them, it's what it's doing to you.

It's called journalism.

Make me laugh.

I asked you to tidy up the booze, you couldn't even sweep out a room.

Why do you think you're working here?

'Cause you're everything that's wrong with a journalist.

And you're everything that's wrong with this insult of a newspaper.

Unanimously agreed.

Why don't you shut it, Moburg?

You are a waste of human sperm.

Die a prolonged and relentlessly agonizing death!

Enjoy her.


Made you some tea.

You should try and sleep.

I stole your bed.

It's okay.

I'm going to write.

I'm so sorry.

Don't be sorry.

You did me the best favor I ever had.

There is no dream, Chenault.

Just a piss puddle of greed, spreading throughout the world.

I want to make a promise to you, the reader.

And I don't know if I can fulfill it tomorrow or even the day after that.

But I put the bastards of this world on notice.

That I do not have their best interests at heart.

I will try and speak for my reader.

That is my promise.

And it will be a voice made of ink and rage.

Sit down. I made you coffee.

Thanks.

One for you and one for me.

Oh, man, I would rather not start the day with this.

What is it? It's a writ.

Means we're going to court.

It means they can arrest us, should they so desire, any damn minute they please.

We need to speak to a lawyer.

We don't even have a phone.

I know an old guy, Spanish Advocate.

Kind of owes me one.

You should get dressed. We'll go down there.

Water ran out. I'm covered in soap.

Fuck it. See what I can do.

What's it for?

It's Hal.

He put up a bond for us on this thing, and now he's pulled it.

Here.

You know he's a crook, Paul.

And we get the writs.


What is it?

It's Hitler.

It's over.

What is?

They shut us down.

He just stood there and lied to us.

He hasn't got the morality of a clapped out cash register.

I hate to tell you this, guys, but it was to avoid severance.

We all know what it was for, Charlie.

What are we gonna do? Nothing.

There's nothing we can do, except report him to the labor board, which is the same thing as doing nothing.

I disagree.

We gotta strike back and nail this bastard to his own front door.

And how, pray, do we do that?

By printing the paper We got tons of stuff on Lotterman.

Every happy maggot with his hand in the till.

It may be the last-ever issue, but we go out in a blaze of rage.

What are you talking about? It costs $2,200 a shot.

We bring in the scabs.

They're picketing for money.

You're through the looking glass.

We haven't even got enough money for drinks.

It's not worth the fight. This has been coming down the pike for a long time.

You got to know it's over when it's over.

This lousy little Caribbean rag is nothing but a wrapping for fish heads.

Plus, it's a lockout.

Fuck the locks.

I say we just walk in.

Anybody with me?

Bob?

You know I'm with you.

We didn't pay the bill.

Where's Chenault?

She's gone to New York.

She left me $100.

I don't believe it.

She didn't have any money.

You should use it to go with her.

Red-eye for 50 bucks.

No.

I'm not going anywhere.

By some means or another, I'm gonna put the paper out.

Print the bastard, then we're gone.

Face the reality, Paul.

There's no job, no money, no girl, and a warrant out for our arrest.

There's no contest.

Donovan's right, it ain't worth the fight.

I'm not Donovan!

And I'm not like the others.

I'm telling you right now, next time some greasy moron starts bullshitting me, I'm going after him.

All the way up to the president of the United States.

I just want to win one once.

One sheet.

You ain't gonna get far on $100.

Some of the scabs will do it for nothing.

We're gonna need 20 guys, plus vans.

No, no, all you need is two grand.

We're out of rum.

It's as if God, in a fit of disgust, has decided to wipe us all out.

Yea, the cock crows thrice.

What about El Monstruo?

Bet the $100 on El Monstruo.


How do you know he lives here?

I saw him come out.

You better let me do this on my own.

If he gets it, we should bring it to Papa Nebo.

Who's that?

My witch doctor.

She's a hermaphrodite.

Stop here! Stop here!

By day, she drives a garbage truck.

By night, she becomes Papa Nebo, the hermaphroditic oracle of the dead.

When permission is granted from Papa Samedi, the keeper of the cemetery, she'll visit, and she'll dig up a corpse.

Certain organs of the disgrounded stiffs are indispensable for use in ouangas.


This is horseshit, isn't it?

She cured my prick.

She wants to know what you want.

We want her to empower this fowl.

We want it blessed and anything that tries to fight it, dead.

Bring forth the fowl.


She says that no fowl on Earth could challenge this cockerel and survive.

Great.

How's she off for curses?

Pretty good.

Let's have a curse on Sanderson. Make his dick fall off.

And that fucker at the bank, Green.

Mr. Green.

Jesus!

Curse active!

Okay, come on.


One down, two to go.

Okay. I'm gonna call Moburg.

Okay.

Come on. Come on.

He isn't there.

He has to be.

He isn't there.


- Where have you been? Sorry.

I never heard the phone.

How's it going?

Winning, man. We're winning.

Is everyone there? Is everyone there?

Yeah, everyone's here.

What about the vans?

What about the vans, Moburg?

Yeah, yeah. Yeah, vans.

You hear that?

We're on our way.


What the hell is going on?

He said he had the men.

"All claims against the former owners will be..."

"Signed on behalf of First Maritime Bank, Miami."

Sanderson's pal, Mr. Green.

Sorry, Paul.

I didn't know how to say.

They took all the machines out.

Not everything, but just the parts that matter.

I'll let you in.


All I wanted was a front page.

Probably for the best.

Probably would've never pulled it off.

How much did you guys win?

Just under six grand.

Oh, yeah, well, you...

At least you can pay off the bond now.

Screw the bond.

We're out of here.

It's over with.

There's a midnight Pan Am.

I'm not risking the airport.

No.

I figure this island owes us a boat.

And I'm fuckin' taking one of Sanderson's.

You smell it?

It's the smell of bastards.

It's also the smell of truth.

I smell ink.


I got to take the hen back.

Find yourself a trade wind.