Donnie Brasco

script without owner found at Weekly Script, where they call the use of it fair use. If the owner of the script has anything against his script posted here, please contact me.


“DONNIE BRASCO”


by


Paul Attanasio


Based on the book, “Donnie Brasco”


by


Joseph D. Pistone with Richard Woodley


REVISED DRAFT


July 27, 1992



EXT. DAY. WASHINGTON, D.C.


An AERIAL VIEW of the nation’s capital, MOVING IN on the
stolid limestone box of FBI HEADQUARTERS. Supered below:


FBI HEADQUARTERS. WASHINGTON, D.C. 1981.


CUT TO:


INT. DAY. FBI HEADQUARTERS


A spacious corner OFFICE. American flag, FBI seal, and a
plush carpet — Federal blue.


CLENDON HOGUE, 40s, barrel chest, shrewd eyes over half-moon
glasses, PRESIDES behind a vast desk. The impressive mien of
earned authority. Before him:


JULES BONOVOLONTA, late 40s, Green Beret veteran, SUPERVISOR,
140 pounds of pugnacity and gristle. Ex-street agent cramped
by headquarters.


PAT MARSHALL, late 30s, a CASE AGENT, compulsively organized,
with haunted choirboy’s eyes.


CLARENCE LEBOW, early 40s. Assistant SECTION CHIEF. Brooks
Brothers, heavy starch.


LEBOW
It’s going down tonight.


JULES

Says who? A fucking wire.


LEBOW
A reliable wire.


JULES
A fiction writer.


Hogue peruses SURVEILLANCE PHOTOS of Sonny Red and Sonny
Black. Then reads the INFORMANT’S REPORT.


MARSHALL
Is that the 209, sir?


LEBOW

There’s going to be a war between
Sonny Red and Sonny Black — it’s
all over the streets.


JULES
Clarence, you couldn’t find the
streets with an asphalt detector.


MARSHALL
Sonny Black goes, everyone with him
goes.


JULES
That’s doesn’t mean it’s tonight.


LEBOW
Even if it’s not tonight — and I’m
not saying it’s not tonight — it
could still be tonight because it
could be any night.


JULES
Fuck you, Clarence.


LEBOW
Hey! I’m a Mormon!


HOGUE

You have some objection to these
guys killing each other?


MARSHALL
It’s just that — one of them’s one
of us.


HOGUE
An informant?


JULES
An agent. Undercover.


HOGUE

Then why are you depending on an
informant? What does the agent say?
(off awkward looks)
When’s the last time you spoke to
him?


JULES

Three weeks.


MARSHALL
Three weeks and two days.


HOGUE
He checks in every three weeks?


MARSHALL
He checks in when he checks in, sir.


JULES
We had to make up the rules as we
went along —


HOGUE
My predecessor started this?


JULES
His predecessor.


LEBOW

It’s been five years.


MARSHALL
Five years and three months.


JULES
I am not gonna blow a chance to

cripple the entire fucking Mafia
just because some fucking empty suit
in Blue Carpet Land —


LEBOW
I am so sick of your superior New
York attitude —


JULES
— thinks there’s gonna be a shootout
tonight after the fucking tarantella.


LEBOW
You’re going to risk a man’s life

just to make cases.


JULES
(right back)
Making those cases is his life.


HOGUE

And how many cases do we have?


MARSHALL
(guessing)
A hundred, two hundred…


HOGUE

Which one?


JULES
The truth is we don’t know.


HOGUE
Let me get this straight. Nobody

knows where he is. Nobody’s spoken
to him. He’s been undercover five
years. He might very well get killed
tonight — at a fucking wedding —
not because he’s one of us, but
because he’s one of them. I’ve been

on the job one fucking week. And
it’s my fucking decision? How the
hell did this happen?


Awkward looks and foot shuffling all around.


MARSHALL

What time’s the wedding?


LEBOW
Eight o’clock tonight.


THE CLOCK


on the wall reads “9:36.”


HOGUE
Who is this fucking guy?


DISSOLVE TO:


INT. NIGHT. BAR WASHINGTON (1975)


CLOSE ON


JOE PISTONE, 30s, athlete’s build, body languid with a
killer’s confidence. Eyes dead as a shark’s. He chafes at
his rep-striped tie and off-the-rack suit.


WIDER


LeBow, Marshall, and two other SUITS around the table. Jules

delivers a TOAST. Supered below:


BLACKIE’S. WASHINGTON, D.C.


JULES
…And so, Joe, we wish you bon voyage
with this farewell drink. We’d give

you a farewell dinner — but why
spend all that money when you’ll
just come crawling back to your old
desk?


Laughter around the table. The CLINK of glasses…


LEBOW
I would love to know how you sold
them on this.


DONNIE
I told them I wanted to get far away
from you, Clarence, They got it

instantly.


LEBOW
We’ve had our best guys on this since,
what, Valachi? Twenty years?


MARSHALL

Who knows? We never tried anything
like this.


LEBOW
What does that tell you?


MARSHALL

The Director thought it would be too
corrupting.


JULES
Then maybe I should do it. I’m in a
mood to be corrupted.


LEBOW
You know what these people are like.
They’re all married to each other’s
cousin.


JULES
(shrugs)

It’s six months.


MARSHALL
I think it’s great. Undercover’s a
new area. Get in on the ground floor.


LEBOW

It’s a wild goose chase. I’m saying
this as a friend.


JOE
What do I know? I’m just a dumb
guinea.


LEBOW
Don’t talk that way, Joe.
(beat)
Because, you know, you are just a
dumb guinea.


LAUGHTER from the group. Joe doesn’t know whether to join in

or punch somebody. Jules hands him a large beribboned BOX.


JULES
Here you go, Joe.


Joe opens the box. A wide-brimmed Al Capone FEDORA. Uproarious
laughter from the group.


LEBOW
If you already have one, you can
return it.


JULES
Put it on!


Against his will, Joe puts on the hat. More laughter from
the group.


CUT TO:


EXT. DAY. SUBURBS


Three exuberant TOMBOYS play football on the front lawn of a

modest split-level home: TERRY, 13, rebel in a hurry; KERRY,
10, the good girl; and SHERRY, 8, the baby.


Terry hikes the ball, drops back to throw…


A PASS


spirals up into the air… where it’s INTERCEPTED by Joe,

who appears out of nowhere.


SHERRY
Daddy, Daddy!


Joe feints, tries to dodge the girls… Then sidesteps…


JOE

I’m out of bounds. Stop! This —
look — this is out of bounds!


They tackle him anyway. Grab his legs till he TOPPLES in a
laughing heap.


MAGGIE PISTONE, a pretty, strong-willed blonde in her 30s,

emerges at the front door. SMILES at the scene. Then FROWNS
as she realizes —


CUT TO:


INT. LATER. LAUNDRY ROOM


Joe stands in his suit jacket and boxer shorts while Maggie

tries to remove the GRASS STAINS on the pants knees.


MAGGIE
I swear to God, Joe, I have to spray
you with Scotchgard every morning.


Joe embraces her from behind.


JOE
What am I supposed to do? Terry
tackles like her mother.


He gropes at her. She moves his hands off…


MAGGIE

Illegal holding.


His hands go back to groping. She smacks them….


JOE
Roughing the passer.


MAGGIE

I suppose I should be grateful that
it’s not blood stains, or powder
burns. Like the old days.


JOE
I got some good news today. We’re
going back to Jersey.


MAGGIE
You’re kidding! You got transferred?


JOE
The kids can see their grandparents.
Plus it’s GS-13. That’s two thousand

more.


MAGGIE
My God! When did this all happen?


JOE
Just today.


MAGGIE
What aren’t you telling me?


JOE
Nothing.


MAGGIE

I know enough about the Bureau that
nothing happens this quickly, Joe.
Especially if it involves a raise.


JOE
Remember that guy I met at Quantico,
that supervisor? Berada? Be asked

for me. Safe and Hijackings, in New
York.


MAGGIE
But this is a desk job, right?
(beat)
I thought we agreed about you going

back on the street again.


JOE
This is different. It’s undercover.


MAGGIE
What does that mean, undercover?


JOE
Undercover. You know, undercover.


MAGGIE
Will you come home at night?


JOE

It’s a good opportunity.


MAGGIE
Undercover in what?


JOE
An FBI wife doesn’t ask, Maggie.


MAGGIE
Will you be home on the weekends?


JOE
It’s just six months.


MAGGIE

You waited till this was all decided.
You never asked me — you knew what
I was going to say. What do you want
from me, Joe?


JOE
I want you to say, ‘It’s okay’. ‘It’s

great’.


MAGGIE
You finally got to headquarters and
now you’re going back on the street.


JOE

Don’t you understand? I buy a Brooks
Brothers suit but there’s always a
button that comes off or a stain
that won’t come out — it’s like the
suit knows I don’t belong in it. I
sit in a room with Clarence and the

rest of them and the only way I know
something’s funny is when everyone
else laughs. Everything, all day,
it’s just
(gestures)
This much off.


MAGGIE
You’re as smart as they are.


JOE
I could be a fucking Ph.D. from
Harvard and it wouldn’t matter — I

cannot win. To do something that’s
never been done, that they say can’t
be done, that they can’t do — don’t
you see? That’s the only way I’m
ever gonna fit in with them. On my
terms.


She looks at him. Smiles. She loves him for who he is, as
frustrating as that can be. She embraces, kisses him.


MAGGIE
Well, at least you warned me.
Remember? ‘Maggie, if you marry me…


JOE
(unison)
…you’re in for a big adventure.’


They kiss again. And kiss. Joe kicks the door to the laundry
room SHUT behind him.


CUT TO:


MONTAGE


— Present day. The CLOCK at FBI headquarters: 10:07. Hogue
RIPS through the case file. A LETTER addressed to the Director
of the FBI:


BERADA (V.O.)
‘To Director: Surveillance and
informant contacts to date have been
negative…’


— Joe is ushered through the fluorescent-lit warren that is

the BULLPEN of the New York FBI office. Shakes hands with
GUY BERADA, 50s, a Bronx bull with an unlit cigar.


BERADA (V.O.)
‘…regarding being able to penetrate
the conveyance of stolen property by
La Cosa Nostra…’


— Joe lines up at the DMV. FLASH! — his photo for a driver’s
license.


Now he’s DONNIE BRASCO. The name types out:


D-0-N-A-L-D B-R-A-S-C-O


BERADA (V.O.)

…UCA Joseph D. Piston utilizing
the name ‘Donnie Brasco’…


— An FBI COMPUTER prints out a “yellow sheet” of his prior
arrests for burglary — “a.k.a. DON THE JEWELER”…


— In the jewelry district, a HASIDIC JEW tutors Donnie, who

looks at a diamond through a loupe… Donnie surveys a small
APARTMENT with a REALTOR… Donnie opens a BANK ACCOUNT…


BACK TO PRESENT DAY


— Hogue reads down the BUDGET for the operation…
Apartment… $491.60

Furniture… $ 90.30
Utilities… $ 35.00
Rental car… $220.00
Spending money $800.00


BERADA (V.O.)
‘…This would be accomplished by

UCA frequenting locations listed
below and attempting to engage in
conversation and do business with
said fences…’


FLASH BACK


— Donnie sits in Carmelo’s drinking club soda and watching
basketball. At the other end of the bar, two TOUGH GUYS play
BACKGAMMON…


DISSOLVE to another night, another game, another barstool —
CLOSER to the Tough Guys… On the backgammon board, as the
pieces move closer to the goal…


DISSOLVE to another night, as Donnie moves closer to the
game… On the board again, as the pieces move closer…


DISSOLVE to another night, as Donnie moves closer… And
another… On the board, as the pieces move closer, and the
hand moving them… belongs to Donnie.


— Donnie enters his apartment, sparsely furnished with a
bed, TV, weight bench and weights… Gets on the phone…


STEVE BURSEY, 30s, Donnie’s wiry and wild-eyed CONTACT AGENT,
on the “hello phone” at the FBI office in New York.


BURSEY

(to phone)
Hello?


CROSSCUTTING


Donnie at a PAY PHONE.


DONNIE (O.S.)

Is this Bursey?


Bursey cradles the phone on his shoulder, TYPES…


BURSEY (V.O.)
To the file: Contact with UCA on
July 7, 1976…


BACK TO PRESENT DAY


— Hogue reviews SURVEILLANCE PHOTOS of Donnie in Carmelo’s…
In the Rainbow Room.


BURSEY (V.O.)
…UCA reported no significant

contacts…


FLASH BACK


— Donnie in Separate Tables, a restaurant on Third Avenue…


BURSEY (V.O.)
…no significant contacts…


— Donnie wanders the aisles at a drug store, searching for
a GREETING CARD. Selects one. MATCH CUT to Maggie opening
the same card.


Inside it reads, “MISS YOU, LOVE,” and NO SIGNATURE.


— A TRUCK HIJACKING takes place on an access road to Kennedy

Airport.


In a choreographed ballet, the DRIVER gives up the keys to a
crew of TOUGH GUYS… Then Donnie and VINNIE THE FENCE help
unload cartons of PERFUME from the truck…


BURSEY (V.O.)

…UCA purchased two dozen cartons
Yves St. Laurent ‘Eau My Sin’
perfume…


— Donnie plays backgammon at Carmello’s… On the board, as
the pieces move CLOSER… Vinnie introduces him to JILLY
GRECA, a tough-looking WISEGUY in his late 40s.


BURSEY (V.O.)
…UCA was introduced to Giuliano
Greca, a.k.a. Jilly…


— Donnie opens a carton of WATCHES…


DONNIE

These go for 80 apiece. My end’s 20.


BURSEY (V.O.)
…UCA sold 50 Pateau Mitsu Boshi
Boeki digital watches…


He hands them to… Jilly. Who inspects them. Takes the

carton.


Peels off bills to Donnie.


BACK TO PRESENT


— Hogue, with headphones on, stubs out a cigarette…


FLASH BACK


— Donnie sits in Hippopotamus… Casa Bella… An after
hours joint… The pieces on the backgammon board as they
move CLOSER… Donnie collapses heavily on his bed, amidst
the spare furnishings of his apartment…


BURSEY (V.O.)

…UCA reported no significant
contacts…


BACK TO PRESENT


— Hogue opens a BUDGET FOLDER…


BERADA (V.O.)

New York office requests an extension
of six months due to…


FLASH BACK


— Donnie and Berada at a booth in the Cockeyed Clam, a manila
FILE between them.


BERADA
I got you another six months. I told
them it takes time.


DONNIE
Same budget?


BERADA
Same budget. Look, Joe, not that I
don’t see any movement, but — do
you see any movement? I got my neck
out on this.


DONNIE
Whatever it takes, I’m gonna get
these bastards.


BERADA
Do me a favor. Just get one bastard.


Donnie READS from the file.


DONNIE
(frustrated)
‘…no significant contacts…’


BERADA

One other thing. You know how it is
with the ‘B’. They saw some of the
surveillance pictures…


DONNIE
What?


BERADA
They want you to shave the moustache.


DONNIE
I’m undercover!


BERADA

You’re still in the FBI. That’s the
rules.


CUT TO:


INT. DAY. CASA BELLA


WINTER — fog on the windows. DISCO plays on the jukebox.

Drinking DEMITASSE in the late afternoon:


BENJAMIN “LEFTY” RUGGIERO, early 50s, gaunt and raspy-voiced,
SWITCHED-ON with nerves, testy and restless. He lights up an
English Oval. Sitting around him:


DOMINIC “SONNY BLACK* NAPOLITANO, middle 40s. Fireplug

muscles, dyed black hair. Sleepy as a lion after a big meal.
Don’t fuck with the lion.


NICHOLAS “NICKY” SANTORA, late 30s, teddy bear paunch. Plays
the fool.


JOHN “BOOBIE” CERASANI, early 40s, gun-metal hard. All

business. Nobody’s Fool.


SUPERED BELOW:


CASA BELLA RESTAURANT. LITTLE ITALY. 1976.


LEFTY
You can’t say to me a Lincoln is

better than a Cadillac.


NICKY
It’s the better automobile, no
question. Head and shoulders.


LEFTY

Geddadaheah. Geddadaheah before you
make me mad.


SONNY
Lefty, how you gonna be mad at Nicky?


LEFTY

I ain’t mad at him. I’m mad at his
stupidity.


AT THE BAR


A man sits, unfolds a newspaper. The bartender looks up–
it’s Donnie.


DONNIE
Coffee.


BACK ON TABLE


LEFTY
Ain’t no comparison. Cadillac got

more acceleration, more power, more
better handling, better looking,
more legroom for your legs, more
power —


BOOBIE
You said that.


LEFTY
Said what?


BOOBIE
More power.


LEFTY

Be got me so fucking aggravated,
Boobie, I forgot what I said.


NICKY
I’ll tell you one thing — the Lincoln
is longer.


LEFTY
Longer what?


BOOBIE
Whaddaya talkin’ about? Longer
wheelbase?


NICKY
Longer. Like longer. In inches. It’s
a longer car.


LEFTY
You know something, Nicky, you don’t
make no fucking sense sometimes.


NICKY
You got two cars. One’s longer. All
things being equal, the longer car
is the one gonna get there first.


LEFTY

Ain’t the question all things being
equal. One’s a Cadillac and one’s a
Lincoln.


NICKY
The one’s longer gets there first.
That’s scientific fact.

(to Sonny)
What’s better, a Lincoln or a
Cadillac?


LEFTY
Why’re you asking him?


NICKY
I’m asking him.


LEFTY
Why don’t you ask me?


NICKY

I asked you already.


LEFTY
That’s right. And I told you there’s
no comparison.


SONNY

What the fuck are you arguing about?
Mercedes got it all over both of
them.


NICKY
Fuggedaboudit. Mercedes? That’s a
Jewish car. They didn’t get it enough

from the Germans in the war — now
they gotta be robbed by them.


JUDY approaches — the WAITRESS, early 20s. NEW to the job.
Sonny takes her hand, KISSES it.


SONNY

Angel, how about some pastries for
the table?


LEFTY WATCHES DONNIE


sipping coffee at the bar. Leans over to Nicky.


LEFTY

Who’s that?


NICKY
Don. Don the Jeweler. Jilly brought
him around.


LEFTY

Jilly Four Eyes?


NICKY
Not Jilly Four Eyes. You know, Jilly.
From Queens Jilly.


LEFTY

He’s a jewel guy? He knows jewels?


NICKY
What — you got a thing to lay off?


LEFTY
Ain’t the question, I got a thing.

I’m saying, if I had a thing, he
could lay it off?


NICKY
Whaddayou got to lay off?


SONNY WITH JUDY


as he punctuates his order with KISSES of her hand.


SONNY
A little cannoli.
(kiss)
Svingi.

(kiss)
Zeppole.
(kiss)
Sfogliatelli.
(kiss)


JUDY

We’re out of sfogliatelli.


SONNY
Oh. Then you gotta give me that kiss
back.


She giggles, kisses Sonny on the cheek.


JUDY
Can I ask you guys something? You
guys are wiseguys, right?


SONNY
What makes you think we’re wiseguys?


JUDY
What other grown men would have
nothing better to do than sit here
all afternoon drinking coffee and
nobody says anything?


They all look at each other.


NICKY
We could be cops.


LAUGHTER all around. Lefty steals another look at Donnie as
he sits placidly drinking his coffee.


CUT TO:


EXT. LATER. LITTLE ITALY


Lefty RUMMAGES in the trunk of his Cadillac. Takes out several
DESIGNER DRESSES, on hangers. Two cartons of TUNA FISH. Two
large STEREO SPEAKERS. Rummages some more. Finds A JEWEL

BOX.


CUT TO:


INT. LATER. CASA BELLA


Donnie sips his coffee at the bar, reads the paper. The
restaurant is otherwise DESERTED — Sonny and the other guys

have left. Lefty approaches him.


LEFTY
You Don the Jeweler?


Donnie looks up to the Bartender. The Bartender nods. Lefty
reaches in his pocket, produces


A FIVE-CARAT DIAMOND RING


LEFTY
That’s a beauty, eh? That’s some
beautiful thing.


Donnie looks it over. Gives it to Lefty.


DONNIE
Give it to your wife.


LEFTY
How’m I gonna give it to my wife? I
ain’t married.


DONNIE
You got a girlfriend?


LEFTY
Yeah. Louise.


He returns the diamond to Lefty.


DONNIE
Marry her.


LEFTY
Are you for real? I’m asking if you
want to middle a diamond here. All I

want for my end’s eight thousand.


DONNIE
I’m saying give it to somebody don’t
know any better. It’s a fugazy.


LEFTY

How can you say it’s a fugazy? You
looked at it two seconds.


DONNIE
Go ahead, try and sell it, you wanna
be a dunsky.


LEFTY
(angry)
I’m a dunsky? Let me tell you
something, my friend — do you know
who you’re talking to?


The Bartender, SCARED — he knows what Lefty’s capable of.

Quickly mixes a SPRITZER.


BARTENDER
Here, Left, have a spritzer.


LEFTY
(sputtering)

My family, my children — my mother
can hold her head up in any
neighborhood in the city when she
walks down the block. In all the
Five Boroughs I’m known, fuggedaboudit —
I’m known all over the world. You

ask around — ask anybody about Lefty
from Mulberry Street.


DONNIE
I’m sorry. It was just a
misunderstanding. Okay?


Donnie backs off, EXITS. Lefty takes the diamond out, looks
at it — FUMES. The Bartender slides the spritzer over.


BARTENDER
On the arm.


LEFTY

Fugazy. Fugazy my fucking ass.


CUT TO:


EXT. LATER. CASA BELLA


Donnie exhales out his tension — unwinds from the dicey
moment with Lefty. Pulls his collar up against the cold,

heads up the block.


Takes a last look back inside at Lefty.


CUT TO:


INT. LATER. JEWELER


A JEWELER, loupe in his eye, examines the diamond.


JEWELER
It’s a fake.


LEFTY
This’s a fake?


JEWELER

Nothing is what it seems.


Lefty takes the fugazy back. Pockets it.


LEFTY
Because that’s what I’m thinking. I
thought it was a fake.

(beat)
It’s a good fake, though, ain’t it.


JEWELER
It’s a very good fake.


LEFTY

That’s what I’m saying. I thought it
was a fake. That’s what I thought.


Lefty takes the fugazy back. Pockets it.


CUT TO:


EXT. DAY. NEW JERSEY SUBURBS


Donnie drives the big station wagon, Maggie alongside him.
The girls in back.


SHERRY
Daddy, will you be home Easter?


MAGGIE

Don’t ask Daddy those questions.


SHERRY
Mommy, will Daddy be home Easter?


TERRY
You still believe in the Easter bunny?


KERRY
You’re such a snot, Terry.


MAGGIE
(to Terry)
He’ll try his best.


TERRY
(to Kerry)
Don’t look at me. I think it’s great
he’s never home.


SHERRY

Denise in school asked me today what
Daddy’s job is.


MAGGIE
What’d you tell her?


SHERRY

None of her beeswax.


TERRY
Just tell her he’s a salesman on the
road a lot. I mean, who cares what
he really does?


MAGGIE
(stern)
You be proud of what your father
does. Do you understand me? Your
father is an outstanding individual.


TERRY

Jesus. Lighten up. That’s not the
point.


KERRY
Shut up, Terry.


CUT TO:


EXT. LATER. GRANDPARENTS’ HOUSE


The station wagon pulls up. The kids run out into the embrace
of Maggie’s PARENTS. Maggie climbs out, turns.


MAGGIE
You said it was going to be six

months, Joe.


CUT TO:


INT. DAY. ACERG, INC.


A storefront for fenced goods. WISEGUYS play cards, smoke
cigarettes. The PAY PHONE rings. Jilly picks it up.


CUT TO:


INT. SAME TIME. FBI SAFEHOUSE


A phone line patched into a reel-to-reel TAPE RECORDER among
rows of tape recorders. VOICE-ACTIVATED it clicks on,
UNSPOOLS…


JILLY (O.S.)
Hello?


CUT TO:


INT. MORNING. CASA BELLA


Lefty talks on a pay phone. Watches a MAN, indistinct in the

background, sipping coffee at the bar.


LEFTY
He’s okay?


PHONE (O.S.)
Don the Jeweler? Stand-up guy. Ain’t

a leech, good earner. Keeps to
himself.


RACK FOCUS


to Donnie at the bar, sipping coffee. Lefty watches him.


FLASH CUT TO:


INT. THE PRESENT. FBI HEADQUARTERS


Hogue listens on headphones.


LEFTY (O.S.)
Where’s he from?


PHONE (O.S.)

California. He’s a jewel guy.


LEFTY (O.S.)
Where California? L.A.?


PHONE (O.S.)
Do you know how fucking big California

is? How the fuck should I know? He’s
a jewel guy.


THE CLOCK reads “10:25”.


LEFTY (O.S.)
Jilly — he’s a stand-up guy, Jilly?


PHONE (O.S.)
Look, Left, I said I knew him. I
didn’t say I fucked him.


Hogue hits FAST FORWARD… The tape SQUEALS…


MATCH SOUND


FLASH CUT TO:


EXT. THE PAST. CADILLAC


The SCREECH of rubber and THE CADILLAC LOGO as Donnie pulls
away from the curb in a screaming-yellow Coupe de Ville.
Lefty lights an English Oval.


LEFTY
Nice car.
(beat)
Go to 46th and 1st, I gotta make a
collection.


DONNIE
What happened with that fugazy?


LEFTY
Man oh man, I gotta school you, my
friend. Di’n’t Jilly school you?


The smoke is thick now… Donnie powers down his window.


DONNIE
School me in what?


LEFTY
Donnie, put your window up, Donnie.

I’ m gonna catch a draft.


Donnie powers his window back up.


LEFTY
A non-wiseguy never asks a wiseguy a
question. A non-wiseguy don’t even

talk to a wiseguy unless the wiseguy
talks to him first. Capeesh?


DONNIE
Yeah. I got it.


LEFTY

You don’t raise your hands to a
wiseguy. You don’t mess with his
women — wife or girlfriend or
daughter. Just keep your mouth shut —
don’t put business on the street.


DONNIE

Follow the rules.


A CAB cuts them off. Lefty leans over. HONKS the horn.


LEFTY
Cocksucker! Motherfucker cutting you
off.

(resuming)
You gotta have rules. Otherwise,
what are we? We’re like animals.


He leans over. VICIOUSLY honks the horn again. RESUMES with
one eye on the cab…


LEFTY
Wiseguy has a bag, you pick up the
bag. Wiseguy runs a tab, you pick up
the tab. Wiseguy is always right —
even if he’s wrong he’s right. All
the way up the line. Connected guy

to wiseguy to skipper to boss.


DONNIE
Like the Army.


LEFTY
What?


DONNIE
I said it’s like the Army. Chain of
command.


LEFTY
Ain’t nothing like the Army. The

Army, it’s some guy you don’t know
sends you to whack out some other
guy you don’t know. The Army’s a
jerkoff outfit.


DONNIE
I mean the same principle.


LEFTY
Ain’t the question, Donnie. You see,
that’s why I gotta school you. Because
otherwise you get everything upside
down.
(beat)

You got a girl?


DONNIE
Yeah. In California.


LEFTY
Good. Let her enjoy herself in

California.


The cab CUTS OFF Donnie again… And Lefty BLOWS…


LEFTY
Donnie, catch up with that cocksucker.


DONNIE

Which cocksucker?


LEFTY
He cut you off again,
(pointing)
That fucking — The cab! That one!
Donnie —


Donnie SPEEDS up, chases the cab… Lefty opens the GLOVE
COMPARTMENT.


Hits a BUTTON and the TRUNK pops OPEN.


A RED LIGHT


The cab stops. Lefty JUMPS out of the Cadillac…


IN THE TRUNK


Lefty pulls out a JACK, hustles up to the cab.


THE CABBIE


A PAKISTANI, 30s, oblivious. Then he sees Lefty approach in
his sideview mirror.


LEFTY
What’s fucking wrong with you? Hah?
There’s no fucking etiquette of the
road with you?


The Cabbie flips a “FUCK YOU” signal with his middle finger…

Rolls up his window.


LEFTY
Fuck who? Fuck me?


DONNIE OUT


of the Cadillac, running toward Lefty… INSIDE the cab, a

nervous PASSENGER gathers her shopping bags…


SMASH!


as the Cabbie’s window CAVES IN… Lefty with the JACK…
SWINGS down hard on the windshield. From INSIDE, a spider’s
web of shattered glass.


DONNIE APPROACHES


Worry on his face. The Passenger FLEES down the block.


THE CABBIE


hangs out the window, grabbing and punching at Lefty. Lefty
YANKS him out of the car.


DONNIE
Left, c’mon. Enough.


Donnie grabs Lefty, trying to pull him off. A DRIVER heckles
from a passing car.


DRIVER

Fuck you!


DONNIE
Hey, fuck you!


The Cabbie hangs onto Lefty. Lefty SNAPS off the cab’s
ANTENNA, starts to WHIP the Cabbie with it. The Cabbie BITES

Lefty. Lefty YELPS, backs off.


ONTHE ACCELERATOR


as the Cabbie SLAMS his foot down. The light turns RED. The
cab FISHTAILS through crossing traffic… The Cabbie trembles
with fear, looks in his rear-view mirror as he speeds away.


WATCHING HIM


Donnie and Lefty, as DRIVERS in passing cars shoot looks of
disapproval their way. Lefty lights a cigarette.


LEFTY
These fucking guys. They come to

this country, they flaunt the rules
of the road. They give the ‘fuck
you’ sign to a man in the street…


DONNIE
What kind of bullshit is that?


LEFTY
Fucking sand nigger. I will never
fucking understand it. Why is it
always the guy who drives a car for
a living is the worst fucking driver
there is?


CUT TO:


INT. DAY. RESTAURANT


Donnie sits at a bar with a drink. Lefty listens to the OWNER,
toughlooking, 30s, as he WRIGGLES.


LEFTY

I just want what’s owed.


OWNER
You know, you’re not the only guy’s
owed money.


DONNIE

You didn’t wanna pay it you
shouldn’t’ve borrowed it.


OWNER
Who’s this cocksucker?


Like LIGHTNING, Donnie SLAPS the owner hard — forehand,

backhand.


GRABS HIS COLLAR


BELTS HIM HARD an uppercut in the solar plexus. The Owner
SAGS to his knees.


NAUSEA in waves. Donnie finds the Owner’s WALLET in his jacket

pocket. Takes the money from the wallet. Peels off a five,
STUFFS it in the Owner’s mouth.


DONNIE
That’s for the drink.


CUT TO:


INT. LATER. CADILLAC


CASH as Lefty counts it out. Donnie drives through the Lower
East Side WATERFRONT.


LEFTY
(scolding)

Donnie — why’d you pay for that
drink? Wiseguy never pays for a drink.


DONNIE
Okay. I didn’t know.


LEFTY

Always on the arm.
(chuckles)
You scared that guy, though, managgia —
that cracks me up. I got 26 fucking
hits under my belt and you’re the
one he’s scared of.


Lefty CATCHES himself — shouldn’t have said that about the
hits.


BROODS a beat.


LEFTY
Hey, Donnie, pull over.


CUT TO:


INT. LATER. CADILLAC


TOOLS out on the front seat. Lefty UNSCREWS the dashboard.
Donnie leans in.


LEFTY

Hand me them pliers.


DONNIE
The vise grip or the needle nose?


LEFTY
Fuggedaboudit. I’ll get it myself.


He leans out. Takes the pliers. Goes back to work dismantling
the dashboard.


DONNIE
I don’t know, Left. This is the best
car I ever had.


LEFTY
You didn’t hear that? That rattling?


DONNIE
I never had any trouble with this
car.


LEFTY
Give me a hand with this.


Lefty and Donnie PULL OFF the dashboard. Lefty looks inside.
Feels around.


LEFTY

(satisfied)
It’s clean.


DONNIE
(getting it)
Hey, you got something to say to me,
Left, say it to my face.


LEFTY
I ain’t saying nothing, Donnie.


DONNIE
You think I got a fucking wire in my
car?


LEFTY
Did I say that?


DONNIE
What do you think — you think I’m a
fucking rat stoolpigeon?


LEFTY
You can’t be too careful these days.
Even the ears have ears.
(beat)
C’mon. They need some bodies on the
street down at Toyland.


CUT TO:


EXT. DAY. TOYLAND LITTLE ITALY


A CAR pulls up and two prosperous-looking SKIPPERS get out —
DOMINICK “BIG TRIN” TRINCHERA, fat and fortyish, and PHILIP
“PHILLY LUCKY” GIACCONE, 40s, shrewd eyes behind glasses.

They disappear into an unimposing SOCIAL CLUB. WISEGUYS stand
guard in the cold outside.


Lefty arrives with Donnie in tow.


LEFTY
Nicky, this’s Donnie.

(they nod)
How’d Minx’s Magic do in the fifth?


WISEGUY #1
He lost.


LEFTY

How could he lose?


WISEGUY #1
What the fuck does he give a fuck?
He’s a horse. You’re the one that’s
out ten grand.


LEFTY
Fuck! Now I gotta bet another dime
Sunday just to get to where I was
yesterday.


RED COWBOY BOOTS


move up the block… They belong to ALPHONSE “SONNY RED” INDELICATO, 50s, barrel chest. With him, his son, ANTHONY
BRUNO INDELICATO, 20s, pale and balding, COKED OUT.


LEFTY
(aside, to Donnie)
Fucking Sonny Red.


Sonny Red stops, confronts Lefty.


SONNY RED
(nods to Donnie)
Who’s this?


LEFTY

This’s Donnie, a friend of mine.


BRUNO
Just stand there and look dangerous,
friend.


LEFTY

(proud)
Yeah, he does look dangerous, don’t
he?


Bruno SNORTS in disgust as he and his father move along.


LEFTY

Sonny Red, everything’s a beef with
him, him and Bruno, that son of his.


DONNIE
He don’t look so dangerous himself.


LEFTY

Ah, he’s a stone degenerate, he’s
coked-up half the time. Like all
these fucking kids nowadays.


A huge LINCOLN pulls up. BODYGUARDS jump out of the car. And
CARMINE “LILO” GALANTE, 69, fat and bald, huge CIGAR, emerges
from the Lincoln. AWESTRUCK, all watch as, surrounded by

WISEGUYS, Galante disappears into the club. Lefty watches,
stubs out his cigarette. Turns to Donnie.


LEFTY
The boss.


CUT TO:


EXT. SUNSET. ROOF


Lefty tends to the PIGEON COOPS on his roof, Donnie alongside
him.


LOUISE, early 30s, a good-looking woman in stretch pants,
brings Lefty a SPRITZER.


LOUISE
Here you go, Bennie. You sure you
don’t wanna spritzer, Donnie?


DONNIE
No thanks, Louise.


LOUISE
You change your mind, I’m downstairs.


She heads downstairs. Donnie turns back to Lefty.


LEFTY
Not for nothing, but… how’d you

know that was a fugazy?


DONNIE
Jewels are my business. If I buy a
fugazy, I lose. I hate to lose.


LEFTY

That’s a good business, jewels? Good
money in it?


DONNIE
Pretty good.


LEFTY

You keep your nose clean, be a good
earner, listen to what I school you —
there ain’t a crystal ball big enough
for what we could do.


DONNIE
(off pigeon)

Did you know there used to be falcons
in New York?


LEFTY
They got everything in this fucking
city.


DONNIE
Peregrine falcons. They lived across
the river.


LEFTY
In Queens?


DONNIE
In the Palisades.


LEFTY
The Palisades is Jersey, Donnie.


DONNIE

I’m saying that’s why there’s so
many pigeons now. The falcons used
to hunt ’em and kill ’em off.


LEFTY
I love these fucking pigeons. I’d
die before I’d let anybody touch

these pigeons.


DONNIE
Those falcons could read a newspaper
from a mile up.


LEFTY

A bird could read the newspaper?


DONNIE
I’m saying their eyesight.


LEFTY
Hey, Donnie — you got a couple

hundred, Donnie? I got some things I
gotta take care of.


Donnie reaches in his wallet.


DONNIE
What do you want, two hundred?


Lefty leans over, PEERS into his wallet.


LEFTY
Whaddaya got there, three hundred?
Gimme three hundred.

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