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Last Words by Ray Printer Friendly

“You know, right? About the drugs and the counterfeiting thing and the debit card scam?”

“Yeah, man, I know.”

“And you’re still here?”

“You’re still my brother.”

“You have no idea how much I love you.”

“Yes I do—otherwise, I wouldn’t be here.”

“I’m…I’m a bad guy, Jen. I mean, I’m really fuckin’ bad.”

“You’ve done some bad things.”

“That’s what bad guys do, is bad things.”

“Everybody does bad things. Bad guys do lots of bad things. Good guys do bad things and then feel bad about them.”

“I’m fucked.”

“I guess that all depends.”

“Depends on what?”

“Depends on if you decide to let these hostages go or not.”

“I love that they sent my sister as the negotiator. How’d you pull that one off?”

“I’m better at this than any of them. I mean, hell—I talked my way into this situation, right?”

“That speaks volumes right there.”

“Damn straight.”

“But I’m not them, Jen. I’m me, and I’ve been arguing with you for thirty years.”

“Yeah…and I usually win.”

“I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“I know.”

“I mean I meant to rob the bank, yeah. But I didn’t mean…hostages, you know? What kind of shit is that?”

“Crazy shit.”

“Yep. And then the cops were everywhere, I mean, shit. I panicked, you know?”

“I know.”

“The roof! What the hell am I doing on the roof? If it was a skyscraper, I’d get it. But what the hell? It’s a three story building! I don’t know.”

“You panicked.”

“I panicked. ‘Everybody to the roof!’ You should’ve heard me. I think my voice cracked, I was so scared. If they ever make a movie out of this, don’t let them do that part, with the cracking voice.”

“I won’t.”

“They should, you know. Make a movie out of this. The chick super cop and her loser criminal brother. ‘Her future was wide open, but her past held her back.’ Something like that.”

“We need to talk about things, Brandon. They get their shit together, the first thing they’re gonna do is pull me off this one.”

“Because you’re my sister.”

“Because I’m your sister.”

“I wanted to write movies, you know.”

“I know. You have some really awesome screenplays.”

“They never got discovered.”

“They will.”

“Yeah, I know. You wanna know a secret, Jen?”

“Sure, if you want to tell me.”

“You don’t know me. Not as well as you think.”

“Okay.”

“You do a pretty good job hiding that patronizing tone in your voice. If I was anyone but your brother, I might buy it. Why am I doing this, you think?”

“I don’t know.”

“For me? If you were guessing?”

“I don’t know.”

“Answer the question, or I kill a hostage.”

“Are you serious?”

“Maybe. I think so.”

“Okay. Yes. Yes, I think you’re doing this for you. I think you’re under the impression that you’ll do something outrageous and get noticed. You’ll be in jail, but you’ll still be famous.”

“Exactly! Exactly my point!”

“What is?”

“You don’t know me, Jen. I’m not doing this for me—I’m doing this for you!”

“Okay…well, you can stop then, because I’m not impressed.”

“You will be. You won’t be happy, but you’ll be impressed. Years down the road, when enough time has passed for you to forgive me, you’ll sit there and you’ll think, ‘That Brandon, what a clever bastard.’ And you’ll be right. Because I really am clever.”

“Good for you.”

“I know about the cancer. I know about how even with your benefits and your insurance, you’re still fucked.”

“I…um…how did you learn about that?”

“I learn lots of stuff, living like I do. Most of it doesn’t matter. Compared to the fact that you’re dying of cancer, none of it matters.”

“Well, you know…I’ll be okay.”

“Of course you’ll be okay—you always are. Not the point. The point is, this is the time I should step in and use whatever talent I have to help you.”

“Bran, robbing a bank won’t help me. I won’t be able to keep any of the money you give me.”

“Jenny…I am not a fucking idiot. All of this, it’s written. It’s a screenplay. All you have to do is check the mail in a couple of days, and you have instant product.”

“That isn’t funny, Bran.”

“It’s not a joke. You’ll have to tweak the conversation a bit, I guess. The only part you might have to change is if the hostage says the wrong thing—I doubt he will, though.”

“What hostage? And says what wrong?”

“You’ll see. Oh, and the bit about the roof. I really didn’t plan on bringing everyone to the roof—that really was just panic on my part. The last bit’s all just dialog at this point, because I wasn’t sure what anyone would look like, but I think you’ll be able to sell it. There’s a list on my desk about percentages and royalties and all that shit. Boring stuff that you probably won’t have to mess with, but still.”

“Brandon, I need you to slow down. I need you to explain things.”

“No time for that, Jen. We’re in the last act. The first part was the hardest to write, believe it or not. Mostly because it forced me to look at all the mistakes I’ve made throughout life. Forced me to compare and contrast, and you look great and I look like a rotting turd. On the plus side, it showed me the end. At first, I didn’t know how to end it. Drug dealer, scammer, finds out his wonderful cop sister has cancer and can’t pay for treatment, how does he get the money? But after seeing how amazing you’ve always been, and seeing how I’ve always been a fuck up, it all came clear. “

“You aren’t a fuck up.”

“You’re a great liar, but the words I spent the last month typing, they tell the truth, and it’s such a blatant truth that your lies pale in comparison. Hm…they can take that line out, if they feel it’s too dramatic.”

“Who can?”

“The movie people—it’s all in the portfolio I left on my kitchen table. My other screenplays are in there, too. They’re not bad—I think you’ll be able to make a mint off ‘em after this thing.”

“Brandon, you aren’t making any sense.”

“In the movie, this is where he’ll look at her all meaningfully, just like I’m looking at you right now. And he’ll go, ‘Yes it does. And you know it.’ Hey! Hostage in the blue shirt! If this was a movie, and you had to pick someone to play her part, who would you pick?”

“Oh hell no! I do not look like Meg Ryan!”

“Yes you do. The bad news is you won’t be played by a super sex symbol like Angelina Jolie. The good news is, you won’t have to change the script—Meg Ryan’s who I picked him to say.”

“Put the gun down, Brandon. Bran!

“It’s how the movie goes. Make sure they do something cool with the suicide scene in the movie, maybe a flashback or something, I don’t know. And make sure they end with these words: I love you.”


posted 7/11/08


Comments:
Entered By Lauren From NH
2008-07-13 22:52:26

Another dead bad guy. Oh what a shame.


Entered By Ray From Austin
2008-07-13 23:32:33

Don't act like you don't love the bad guys.



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