20s/early 30s,
arriving for work in jeans and cheesy plaid shirt. He gazes
up toward the ridge, scowling and muttering softly:
??
BRAD
Old fuck.
??
He slams the door and heads for the nursing home...
??
EXT. WOODS - MORNING
??
...as CAMERA BOOMS DOWN through the trees to find Paul
wandering a wooded path, munching a tidbit of toast, looking
for all the world like Red Riding Hood in his plastic po
shotgun.
Grifters, ah?
Youre one, allright. Grifters
got an irresistible urge to be
the guy whos wise.
Theres nothing to whipping a fool.
Hell, fools were made to be whipped.
But to take another pro, even your
partner, who knows you
and has his eyes on you,
thats a score.
No matter what happens.
You wanna learn a few tricks? Ill
teach you a few tricks.
But you hand does not get into my
pocket. -I
RONIN
an original screenplay by
J.D. Zeik
DRAFT: May 20, 1997
A BLOOD RED SCREEN - A JAPANESE DRUM starts to play, softly,
but tinged with a desperate edge, growing louder, joined by
other DRUMS as a BLACK LEGEND scrolls up: In feudal Japan,
the warrior class of Samurai were sworn to protect their
liege lords with their lives. Those Samurai whose liege was
killed suffered a great shame, and they
shotgun holes, is posted near a
pipeline support piling:
??
PIPELINE UTILITY CORRIDOR
PRIVATE PROPERTY
NO TRESPASSING
NO HUNTING
NO TRAPPING
NO SHOOTING
??
??
WIDER
??
??
Eric walks quietly past the sign, intent on something ahead
of him. Although still somewhat boyish in appearance, hes
confident and resolute in attitude. His clothes have a
distinctly western feel: Lucchese boots, Levis 501s, Ma
shotgun casually at his side, steps in front of them. He smiles laconically, and BLASTS OUT FIVE SHOTS that rip THROUGH US. By the second shot, the whole jungle blazes out with AUTOMATIC FIRE.
Out VIEW TURNS as the men around us are thrown and torn, screaming and scattering into the jungle. More AMERICANS appear; unexplainably, out of the growth. It is now that we fully SEE the bizarre manner in