Post by xing on Aug 7, 2009 16:04:24 GMT -5
[Open to a bar bathed in blue, red and pink light. A blonde woman named Jenny and a man with a saxophone are on stage playing jazz music as Xing Long sits on a stool with a sweaty and seedy looking man periodically raising a glass of whiskey to his lips and resting it beside a cigar burning in an ashtray.]
Paul: Do you believe in God?
[Xing looks up past her rice paddy hat.]
Xing: Excuse me?
Paul: It’s the outfit. Pretty. You’re a muslim or something, right?
[She snickers.]
Xing: No, I don’t believe in God. Kali, maybe, but not God.
[He wipes a puddle of salty sweat from his forehead with a napkin.]
Paul: Sorry, you types are always into something religious or militant or something. You are a bounty hunter though, right?
Xing: Yep.
Paul: Awesome. I got your name from a friend of mine who said you cut a 300 lbs man into chopped liver. ‘Just a wink is deadly from this girl’ he said.
[The bartender approaches them.]
Ted The Bartender: What’re you havin?
Paul: White Russian, thanks.
Xing: Screwdriver… and some peanuts.
Ted: I’m sorry, we had one last carton of milk and it went bad.
Xing: Just fill a bigger glass with whiskey for him and put a chunk of apple on the side of it.
Ted: Yes ma’am.
[Xing turns slightly in her seat towards Paul.]
Xing: You got any cigarettes?
Paul: You don’t look like the sort that smokes.
[He pulls a packet of Silk Cut out of his jeans pocket.]
Xing: I need ‘em to keep the weight off.
[He laughs.]
Ted: Crocodile meat’ll do that to a lady.
[She takes a puff on the cigarette, not particularly offended by the near racial slur.]
Xing: Ummm hmm. It’s the elephant and shark fin stew that does me in.
[Ted gives them their drinks and peanuts. He even casually slides a bowl of pretzels their way, seeing the foot long machete on Xing’s thigh. Paul dips a pretzel in nacho cheese and huffs on his cigar.]
Paul: Now, I don’t want this to get silly. You’re in there and you take that motherfucker out, ok? Quick as a flash.
[He lifts a suitcase up off the floor and rests it on the counter.]
Paul: As far as I’m concerned you’re holding all the cards. I don’t want any of that feminine tinkerdust nonsense if his daughter gets involved or something. No bullshit, alright?
Xing: I can do that.
[Paul opens the suitcase and hands Xing a photograph. Xing starts making notes on a piece of paper with a pencil and scrunches the photo up into a ball.]
Paul: You’re very precise.
Xing: That’s my job. And I will make this bastard look like a plum pudding and take ten thousand polaroids of blood nearly bursting through his veins if that’s what gets you off.
Paul: Are you playing with me?
Xing: I aint playing with you by a damn sight. Fuck shooting this motherfucker between the eyes, I’ll shoot him between the balls. And give you the Imax experience of it all to boot.
Paul: And you’ll drop the body off in the bottom of a river?
Xing: You think for a God damn minute I’m joking with you? I’ll slice you up into cocktail weenies right here!
Paul: No woman, dayum! You got the job! I hate the bastard and all, but try not to mutilate him as bad as you’re thinking of doing. All he did was steal money off of me. I aint pleased as punch with the guy, but I aint looking to turn him into human corn on the cob neither!
[Paul shakes his head in disbelief as Xing cuts a peanut up like she was doing origami.]
Paul: I thought right coming to you. No bullshit are you the unstoppable monster I was promised.
[They shake hands.]
Xing: Oh, and I want ten motherfucking thousand dollars. You aint gonna get a flower made out of flesh and blood and bone as pretty from anybody else.
Paul: Just kill the wanker, ok? Have as much money as you fucking want.
[She scrapes a toothpick suggestively across her teeth.]
Paul: You really are an ice cold killer.
Paul: Do you believe in God?
[Xing looks up past her rice paddy hat.]
Xing: Excuse me?
Paul: It’s the outfit. Pretty. You’re a muslim or something, right?
[She snickers.]
Xing: No, I don’t believe in God. Kali, maybe, but not God.
[He wipes a puddle of salty sweat from his forehead with a napkin.]
Paul: Sorry, you types are always into something religious or militant or something. You are a bounty hunter though, right?
Xing: Yep.
Paul: Awesome. I got your name from a friend of mine who said you cut a 300 lbs man into chopped liver. ‘Just a wink is deadly from this girl’ he said.
[The bartender approaches them.]
Ted The Bartender: What’re you havin?
Paul: White Russian, thanks.
Xing: Screwdriver… and some peanuts.
Ted: I’m sorry, we had one last carton of milk and it went bad.
Xing: Just fill a bigger glass with whiskey for him and put a chunk of apple on the side of it.
Ted: Yes ma’am.
[Xing turns slightly in her seat towards Paul.]
Xing: You got any cigarettes?
Paul: You don’t look like the sort that smokes.
[He pulls a packet of Silk Cut out of his jeans pocket.]
Xing: I need ‘em to keep the weight off.
[He laughs.]
Ted: Crocodile meat’ll do that to a lady.
[She takes a puff on the cigarette, not particularly offended by the near racial slur.]
Xing: Ummm hmm. It’s the elephant and shark fin stew that does me in.
[Ted gives them their drinks and peanuts. He even casually slides a bowl of pretzels their way, seeing the foot long machete on Xing’s thigh. Paul dips a pretzel in nacho cheese and huffs on his cigar.]
Paul: Now, I don’t want this to get silly. You’re in there and you take that motherfucker out, ok? Quick as a flash.
[He lifts a suitcase up off the floor and rests it on the counter.]
Paul: As far as I’m concerned you’re holding all the cards. I don’t want any of that feminine tinkerdust nonsense if his daughter gets involved or something. No bullshit, alright?
Xing: I can do that.
[Paul opens the suitcase and hands Xing a photograph. Xing starts making notes on a piece of paper with a pencil and scrunches the photo up into a ball.]
Paul: You’re very precise.
Xing: That’s my job. And I will make this bastard look like a plum pudding and take ten thousand polaroids of blood nearly bursting through his veins if that’s what gets you off.
Paul: Are you playing with me?
Xing: I aint playing with you by a damn sight. Fuck shooting this motherfucker between the eyes, I’ll shoot him between the balls. And give you the Imax experience of it all to boot.
Paul: And you’ll drop the body off in the bottom of a river?
Xing: You think for a God damn minute I’m joking with you? I’ll slice you up into cocktail weenies right here!
Paul: No woman, dayum! You got the job! I hate the bastard and all, but try not to mutilate him as bad as you’re thinking of doing. All he did was steal money off of me. I aint pleased as punch with the guy, but I aint looking to turn him into human corn on the cob neither!
[Paul shakes his head in disbelief as Xing cuts a peanut up like she was doing origami.]
Paul: I thought right coming to you. No bullshit are you the unstoppable monster I was promised.
[They shake hands.]
Xing: Oh, and I want ten motherfucking thousand dollars. You aint gonna get a flower made out of flesh and blood and bone as pretty from anybody else.
Paul: Just kill the wanker, ok? Have as much money as you fucking want.
[She scrapes a toothpick suggestively across her teeth.]
Paul: You really are an ice cold killer.