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Leprechaun in the Hood Late Script Part 4 |
Other stuff: Email - Guestbook |
3rd Draft, Blue Shooting Script
Written by Douglas L. Hall for Trimark Pictures
[The movie credits give additional screenplay credit to Jon Huffman, who participated in this version of the script, as well as giving story credits to William Wells, Alan Reynolds, and Rob Spera]
Deleted scenes and the more interesting variations from the finished movie are marked in red.
71 INT. CHURCH -- DAY
Post locks the door they just ran through.
The Rev is stacking cash into his pulpit/safe.
REVEREND HANSON: Better not be makin' no mess back there.
BUTCH: Yo, we fuckin wit' the devil here! Jus' give 'im the flute!
Post looks at Butch, then Stray. Stray could go either way. Post looks at the Rev.
REVEREND HANSON: (to himself. Re: the money) Lock this up, get my ass outta here...
POSTMASTER P: (moving toward the Rev) I got a idea.
BUTCH: (shaking his head) Aw, shit...
72 INT. CHURCH/BACKROOM -- DAY
The growling, salivating Lep throws off the robe and advances to the door.
Suddenly, he hears the flute.
73 INT. CHURCH -- DAY
The Rev lays prone on the altar/office desk. Butch sitting on top of him.
REVEREND HANSON: What y'all doin? Tha's the Lord's money!
Stray is pushing the open pulpit/safe into a position facing the backroom door, while Post plays the flute.
BUTCH: The Lo'd's money stayin' right where it is, Rev.
The door is rocked by the force of the Lep on the other side -- it cracks. Stray, behind the pulpit/safe, now facing the door, looks at Post. Post still plays the flute.
The door is hit again. It begins to buckle. Butch, holding down the Rev, watches nervously.
On the third hit, a hole appears. The Lep's hand reaches through, and pulls a piece of the door away. The Lep's head appears through the hole.
LEPRECHAUN: Heeeeere's Leppie!
The head disappears. WE SEE the Lep backing up for a final ring at the door.
POSTMASTER P: Now, Stray!
Stray unlocks the door, flings it open, and then dives out of the way. The Lep, roaring, comes flying through the open door and straight into the safe. Post shuts the safe door quickly and spins the dial.
The boys breathe a sigh of relief.
BUTCH: What now?
POSTMASTER P: (re: the safe) We can't kill this mo'fo', right? So we give what he wants!
STRAY BULLET: You gon' give 'im the flute?
POSTMASTER P: Not yet! (to Rev) Where you keep the guns?
REVEREND HANSON: Guns? What guns?
POSTMASTER P: Ever'body know you be sellin guns outta here! That there -- (pointing to the safe) be the devil hisself! Show us the guns, or we leave 'im here forever!
REVEREND HANSON: (resigned to Butch) Get up off me, boy!
The Rev lifts the cover off the altar desk -- it's a display case full of guns, with price tags on them.
Post grabs one, throws some to the guys.
POSTMASTER P: (cont'd) Now nobody stop us!
The others are surprised by Post's attitude.
POSTMASTER P: Butch -- you think we can sample this flute?
BUTCH: That's it! Our new equipment has ultra high frequencies! If it picks up, then we store it in our sound database and always have it!
POSTMASTER P: Then we give the flute back to this monkey. An' we be makin' gol records forever!
74 INT. SAFE -- DAY
LEPRECHAUN: Discs of gold, hmm.
75 INT. CHURCH -- DAY
The boys trying to record the flute sound. They listen to the music, but hear no flute. Butch messes with buttons.
STRAY BULLET: Butch, you sure you got that miked right?! It don't soun' no different.
BUTCH: It's all hooked up right! We ain't gon' know 'til that audition.
POSTMASTER P: Ain't nothin' but a thang! We do what we gotta straight up! Butch, jus' record that flute. If it don' work, I got the backup. Either way, we win the audition, and go to Vegas for some big money!
STRAY BULLET: (worried) We playin' wif' some scary shit, boy!
POSTMASTER P: Stray. Is you down, or is you down?!
STRAY BULLET: (resigned) Let's git the shit on the road.
76 INT. SAFE -- DAY
The Leprechaun plots his way out.
LEPRECHAUN: (to himself) From the depths of the nether worlds, come to me my zombie fly girls! From the depths of the nether worlds, come to me my zombie fly girls!
77 INT. MAMMA JAMMA CLUB -- DAY
The boys have just finished setting up the equipment for their audition, and standing onstage.
PROMOTER: You boys ready?! This is yo'r last chance.
The music cues up and the boys begin. Judging from the look of the Promoter, nothing is happening. The boys sense things aren't going well.
Post begins blowing on the flute and everything comes together. The Promoter is grooving. Post blows hard on the flute, Stray struts and raps. They finish the song.
PROMOTER: (cont'd) (clapping) Yeah! You is some serious, groove-bustin', funky-ass, hip-hop muthas! You boys is closin' the show tonight!
The guys celebrate.
78 INT. CHURCH -- DAY
Reverend Hanson is talking to the safe.
REVEREND HANSON: You ain't messin' wit' the Lord's cash in there, is you? It be like holy water! Ya fuck wit' it, it make ya dick fall off!
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the Zombie Girls standing there, looking very nice, indeed.
REVEREND HANSON: (cont'd) Praise be, more sinners! Let me lay my hands on you sinful creatures and pass on God's blessing!
Zombie Girl 1 glides over, puts her arm around the reverend and turns him from the others.
ZOMBIE GIRL 1: Do you have the gift of healing, reverend?
REVEREND HANSON: Oh, yes, chil'. Yes! A course, my specialty is the gift of tongues.
Zombie Girl 1 begins to kiss the reverend, and they slowly sink to the floor of the sanctuary in a passionate embrace.
LEPRECHAUN: (O.S.) He, he, he, he, he.
The Reverend is startled by the presence of the Leprechaun with the other Zombie Girls.
REVEREND HANSON: (cont'd) I knows the beast when I sees him! Get thee hence from the house of the Lord! Uhm the ladies can stay.
LEPRECHAUN: Robin Hood, or robbing the hood, good Reverend? He, he, he, he, he. Now give me the golden flute!
The Zombie Girls advance.
REVEREND HANSON: Ain't got no flute, and wouldn't give it to you if I did! The Lord delivered the Israelites from the hands of the Philistines! He delivered David from Goliath! Delivered Letterman from NBC! And he'll deliver me from yo'r freaky little ass too. Praise God!
The Zombie Girls surround the Rev, blocking him from view. WE MOVE DOWN their body to their feet. Blood drips onto the floor, as the Rev SCREAMS.
79 INT. MAMMA JAMMA CLUB -- NIGHT
As the boys start to play, the audience is relatively quiet. After a few bars, Post pulls out the flute, and immediately the crowd is mesmerized by its sound.
At the big finish, the boys jump on the bags of nitrogen triiodide place on the stage. A moderate EXPLOSION occurs, and the crowd goes crazy with applause.
The boys rush off the stage and into the wings.
80 INT. MAMMA JAMMA CLUB/DRESSING ROOM -- NIGHT
The boys are congratulating each other, when Berry Grady walks in.
BERRY GRADY: Berry Grady, Vice President of A & R for Dope Discs Productions.
STRAY BULLET: The biggest label in hip-hop?!
BERRY GRADY: Guilty as charged, home boy. You guys have a great sound. I hope you're ready for Vegas, 'cause you won the audition!
The group is excited. They hug each other.
STRAY BULLET: We ain't in it but to win it! Know what I'm sayin'?
BERRY GRADY: Your music has a real special quality. And the kids are down with it!
POSTMASTER P: Yeah, we got a positive message, Berry! That shit be sellin'!
BERRY GRADY: You perform in Vegas like you did here, I'd say you're a stone bet to win!
The group jumps up and down.
BERRY GRADY: (cont'd) You leave Tuesday, 9pm, from LAX. Fellas, congratulations!
The boys celebrate as Berry exits.
POSTMASTER P: (waving the flute) We there, my brothers! We there!
A KNOCK AT THE DOOR. Butch opens it -- there stand the ZFG's, looking real good.
BUTCH: Damn!
ZFG 1: Is the party in here?
STRAY BULLET: Yeah!
They invite the girls in. The girls part and the Lep moves in from behind them. The girls remove their glasses revealing their zombie eyes. The boys are stunned.
LEPRECHAUN: The crowd is impressed! They loved every note! But how will you sound from the bottom of my moat? Give me the flute!
Stray reacts angrily and instinctively -- he reaches into his pants, pulling out a gun.
STRAY BULLET: No!!!
As he pulls the trigger, the Lep wags a finger. Stray's arm rises suddenly, and he fires a shot straight into the ceiling. Stray struggles to bring his arm down, but it won't move.
Post moves to lunge at the Lep, but ZFG 1 grabs and holds him back, easily.
LEPRECHAUN: He-he-he-he-he!
STRAY BULLET: (struggling) Let -- go!!!
LEPRECHAUN: Uncomfortable, lad? I'm sorry. Is this better?
The Lep wags his finger, again. Stray's arm, with the gun, suddenly moves down and points straight at Butch, the barrel resting on Butch's cheek. Butch's eyes bug out.
LEPRECHAUN: (cont'd) I'll give you a choice -- my patience is drained. Give me the flute, or paint the wall with his brains!
BUTCH: (very frightened) Post!!!
STRAY BULLET: Post, give it up, man!
Post is torn. Stray's finger begins to tighten on the trigger -- he can't stop it.
BUTCH: Post, man--
STRAY BULLET: Goddamnit, Post! Give it to him!
Finally, Post has no choice. He reaches into his pants and pulls out the flute. He tosses it at the Lep.
POSTMASTER P: Now let him go!
The Lep looks at the flute, smiles, and waves a finger. Stray collapses in a heap, still holding the gun. Butch nearly faints from relief.
LEPRECHAUN: He-he-he-he-he! (stepping in to Post) As they say, (re:club) So near and yet so far, (holding up the flute) Now live with the notion you were almost a star!
The Lep turns to go. It's too much for Post.
POSTMASTER P: Fuck you!
He rushes at the Lep. The Lep turns around suddenly, pointing a finger past Post.
BUTCH'S VOICE: (OS) Post!!!!
Post looks back and stops suddenly.
Still on the floor where he slumped, Stray holds his own gun, the barrel stuffed into his mouth!
POSTMASTER P: NOOOOOO!!!!!
But Stray pulls the trigger and dies instantly, a terrified look on his face.
POSTMASTER P: (cont'd) NOOOOO!!!
Post rushes to the body of his friend, helpless.
BUTCH: OH SHIT!! OH DAMN!!
POSTMASTER P: (shaking Stray's body) Stray!!! Stray!!! Oh God!!!!
In complete shock, Butch begins to pace.
BUTCH: (babbling to himself) Done mess wif the devil...
Unable to help Stray, Post looks toward the Lep, who's vanished with the girls. Post sees Butch, destroyed, and goes to him.
POSTMASTER P: (shaking Butch) Butch! Butch! We gotta get outta here!
BUTCH: (not quite understanding) Huh?
POSTMASTER P: Nut'in we can do, man! You know what happen, if the po-lice find us here!
BUTCH: But--
POSTMASTER P: (shoving Butch out the door) Jus' run, man! Run!
Post turns and takes one last look at his best friend's body.
POSTMASTER P: Ah, shit, Stray! Shit!!
And he runs out.
81 INT. MATTY'S APT. -- NIGHT
The doorbell rings in Matty's small, neat apartment. She comes to the door, putting on a robe. She looks through the peep-hole, and opens the door, surprised.
Post stands there, tired and drained.
MATTY: Post...
POSTMASTER P: Matty... you alone?
MATTY: (ushering him in) Yes -- I heard about Stray! Suicide?
POSTMASTER P: I can't go home, Matty. I jus' need a place to sleep tonight.
82 INT. MATTY'S APT. -- NIGHT -- LATER
Post lies on the couch, as Matty pulls a blanket over him.
MATTY: (cont'd) I've gotta leave early for work. Sleep as long as you want.
POSTMASTER P: Thanks...
Matty touches his cheek and starts to exit.
POSTMASTER P: Matty? (she stops) I shoulda listened to you. You was right. 'Bout me. 'Bout everything.
MATTY: Go to sleep.
ON POST, staring at the ceiling.
83 INT. MATTY'S APT. -- MORNING
ON POST, in the same position as before, but sound asleep.
The doorbell rings. Again. Post stirs. A LOUD KNOCK on the door, jolting Post awake. He looks around, getting his bearings. ANOTHER KNOCK, insistent.
POSTMASTER P: (calling) Matty?
No answer, so he rises and opens the door. Butch stands there. He has a bag and some books.
BUTCH: (entering) You didn' go home -- I figured you was here.
POSTMASTER P: You a'right?
BUTCH: (shrugging) You?
Post nods.
BUTCH: (cont'd) Goin' after the flute, aincha?
POSTMASTER P: (nodding) And the Lep.
BUTCH: Good. I been doin' research.
Butch reaches into his bag, pulls out a pair of work glasses -- the kind with little light bulbs built into the frame. He puts them on and smiles.
POSTMASTER P: The fuck?
BUTCH: I got a plan!
84 INT. MATTY'S -- LATER
ON A BOOK -- LEPRECHAUNS FOR DUMMIES. Pull-back reveals Butch reading from the book.
BUTCH: Leprechauns are rumored to be the dark elves of Satan, each with his own pot of gold.
POSTMASTER P: Why they need gold?
BUTCH: They so tiny, peeps is always capturin' 'em. The gold is ransom for their freedom. Anyone take their shit is hunted and killed in a most brutal manner. A four-leaf clover is the only defense in an attack, and can counteract the effect of a Leprechaun, if you smoke it.
POSTMASTER P: Where we gon' get a four-leaf clover?
Butch pulls a baggie full of them out of his bag.
BUTCH: Shit. I got lots o' them.
POSTMASTER P: How?
BUTCH: I was messin' round wit' DNA, tryin' to clone some super ganja. I fucked up. Here somethin'. You can render a Lep harmless by placin a gold necklace around his neck.
POSTMASTER P: The necklace! I throwed it in a empty lot!
85 EXT. VACANT LOT -- DAY
As they search, Post finds the chain.
POSTMASTER P: Here it is! (to Butch) What next?
BUTCH: I was sneakin' round, peekin' through windows at the Golden Parrot. The Lep holed up in the cellar. Them Zombie Girls be hyp-mo-tizin' ho's, an' bringin' 'em down to 'im.
POSTMASTER P: What fo'?
BUTCH: I couldn't see. But they never come back up. Like he fuckin' 'em to death o' somethin'! We get close enough to 'im... (holding up the necklace) Drop it on 'im, grab the flute.
POSTMASTER P: Where we gon' find a ho' to do that?
Butch stares at him.
POSTMASTER P: Oh, no...
86 MONTAGE SCENE/LIMBO
An ammo mag is inserted into an Uzi. A false eyelash is clumsily applied. The Uzi is socked. Lipstick is applied to a pair of lips. A hand twirls a .45 like a pro. A hand stuffs a bra with toilet paper. A do-rag is tied in the back of a head. A blonde wig is put on a head. A strap on a high-heeled pump is buckled.
87 EXT. STREET -- HIGH NOON
A LONG SHOT. Heat rises from the street. A mangy dog crosses the street, hurriedly, nervous, sensing something about to happen.
There -- just over the ridge of the street -- two figures move resolutely, purposefully in our direction. Hide the women and children -- the shit's about to come down.
One of the figures -- in a dress and heels -- stumbles and nearly falls.
A CLOSE SHOT -- their faces fill the screen. They're focused on their goal in the distance. Suddenly Post, made-up, trips on his heels again.
POSTMASTER P: Fuckin shoes!
BUTCH: Yo, Post. 'F I didn't know better... I might let you blow me.
POSTMASTER P: Couldn't afford my shit, mo'fo'.
88 INT. GOLDEN PARROT -- DAY
A few customers are here. The music is very loud.
Butch stands at one end of the bar, watching drag-Post at the other end.
In the back, the ZFG's notice the new meat, and move in.
Butch's POV: Butch watches as the ZFG's approach Post, smiling, speaking to him.
ON POST: As he talks to the ZFG's.
POSTMASTER P: (falsetto) I go wit' y'all, but firs' -- (pulling out a joint) I got to get me a buzz on. (lighting up) Y'all want some?
ON BUTCH: As he watches.
BUTCH: 'At's right, smoke it down.
AT POST'S END: The ZFG's pass the joint. Suddenly, they begin to feel it -- they weave slightly, shaking their heads. ZFG 1 takes off her shades, the light goes out in her eyes. The others take off their shades -- their eyes are back to normal.
ZFG 1: Oh my God! What happened?
ON BUTCH: He moves in.
ON POST'S END: Post is talking to the ZFG's, as Butch gets there.
ZFG 2: How can we ever thank you?
POSTMASTER P: (looking her over) Well, maybe when this is all over...
ZFG 2: Oooo! No offense, honey -- don't wing that way.
POSTMASTER P: (quickly removing his wig) No! Check it out!
ZFG 2: Or that way, either.
POSTMASTER P: Hell wit' it! Where's the Lep?
ZFG 1: Downstairs!
POSTMASTER P: He got a golden flute wit' him?
ZFG 3: Yeah! It's tied to his belt.
POSTMASTER P: Butch -- le's go!
Post and Butch head for the rear.
89 INT. MACK DADDY'S CAR -- DAY
Parked down the block, watching the Golden Parrot, is Mack Daddy.
MACK DADDY: That's right fools, y'all do the work -- get the flute back fo Mack Daddy.
90 INT. GOLDEN PARROT/BASEMENT -- DAY
As light spills down from upstairs, Post and Butch reach the bottom of the stairs.
Butch puts on the work-glasses, switches them on. Post puts on the wig.
BUTCH: (cont'd) (whispering) Ready?
POSTMASTER P: Le's do it!
BUTCH: Try to be sexy!
POSTMASTER P: I'm a sexy brickhouse bitch, boy! Git yo'r hand off my ass!
Butch shushes him. They move slowly into the depths of the basement. Post stumbles a bit on his heels as they reach the doorway to the Leprechaun's bedroom.
They can hear him SNORING. They creep closer.
BUTCH: (imitating a woman) Mr. Leprechaun. Wake up Mr. Leprechaun.
But he still snores.
BUTCH: (cont'd) (loudly) YO, MR. LEPRECHAUN!
The Leprechaun is startled and immediately springs to attention on his plush bed. The flute is tied to his belt.
BUTCH: (cont'd) (staying in the shadows just outside the room) Mr. Leprechaun. I brought you some fresh new ho' meat and some fresh weed.
The Leprechaun licks his lips, standing on the bed.
LEPRECHAUN: Come closer, come closer, my fresh young lass. Let me get a good look before I tap your ass. He, he, he, he, he, he.
Post demurely goes forward, handing the Leprechaun the pipe. The Lep conjures a flame at the end of his finger, lights the pipe and inhales.
LEPRECHAUN: Come sit, come sit, my healthy filly. (grabbing his crotch) You're about to meet a club named Billy! He, he, he, he, he.
The Lep, feeling the effects of the clover dope, loses his balance and falls down on the bed. Post sits. The Leprechaun starts to stroke his arm, and kiss his neck. Post GIGGLES.
LEPRECHAUN: They say in the hood you're never down unless you have the courage to go... downtown... hmmmmmm.
POSTMASTER P: (falsetto) Oh shit! Let me freshen up first!
He opens the handbag.
The Lep reaches down the front of Post's dress, grabs, and pulls out a handful of toilet paper. The Lep looks toward Butch, stoned and confused. Butch's headgear lights begin to flicker.
[Note from Connie: There's a major discontinuity here - at least one full page of the script is obviously missing. Drat! In such an interesting place, too. It looks like there may be some additional missing lines in the remainder of the script.]
POSTMASTER P: (O.S.) Let's go away!
POSTMASTER P: ...all the way to Vegas!
BUTCH: All the way for straight, man.
POSTMASTER P: (O.S.) (whispers) Butch!
BUTCH: Not in a dress, Post.
POSTMASTER P: You're gonna be okay, man.
BUTCH: Is a pussy heaven, Post?
As Butch sobs...
MACK DADDY: (O.S.) Okay, little girls, come on out! Can't hide! It's goin' down. Come on out, bitches, Mack Daddy wants his food.
Postmaster P goes out to confront Mack Daddy.
MACK DADDY: What's up, sexy? mmm, man... must say you fine! heh heh...
Mack Daddy gets serious.
MACK DADDY: (cont'd) Are you finished playin'? Gimme the goddam flute.
POSTMASTER P: Fuck you, muthafucka.
MACK DADDY: (chuckles) Oh, fuck me. Yeah, you look real tough, you got a gun and everythang, but you ain't about to kill shit... Plus, you're forgettin' about the little muthafucka upstairs. Hey, you know, there's only one way to deal with him, and that's me. I got the one thing that can put the Leprechaun on ice forever. So what you gonna do, tough guy? You gonna try to kill me, or we gonna work together and kill this muthafucka, coz you ain't no muthafuckin' gangsta.
POSTMASTER P: I'm supposed to trust you now?
MACK DADDY: Heh, I wouldn't advise you to trust me. I know that would be the worst thing you could do in your life. But right now, we got no options. And you really ain't got no options. You ain't no muthafuckin' gangsta.
Postmaster P is uncertain...
MACK DADDY: Get the fuckin' gun out of my face, you ain't about to kill nothin', little bitch!
LEPRECHAUN: (O.S.) Cross-dressing imposter!
Postmaster P enters.
LEPRECHAUN: Fool, fool of mine... you've done quite well. Now I'll take me flute... and send you to hell.
POSTMASTER P: (imitating Leprechaun) If this is to be Post's last stand, you'll have to take this flute from me cold dead hand.
LEPRECHAUN: I'll take it from ya, homey, you'll see, coz you know the Lep is the real O.G.
POSTMASTER P: What are you going to do about Mack Daddy?
LEPRECHAUN: Behind me? (laughs) A valiant try, and right on cue. But if I fall for that, I'm as stupid as you.
MACK DADDY: Mack Daddy ain't dyin' today, muthafucka!
There is a ruckus.
91 INT. LAS VEGAS CONCERT HALL
ANNOUNCER: (v.o.) Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Postmaster P!
Postmaster P is onstage.
POSTMASTER P: (singing) The King of the World, yeah, yeah, that's me
I'm finally the man that I was strivin' to be
I passed the test, they fought my nest
But I made it to the top, put your fears to rest
The King of the World, yeah, yeah, that's me
I'm finally the man that I was strivin' to be
I passed the test, they fucked my nest
But I made it to the top, put your fears to rest
The King of the World, yeah, yeah, that's me
I'm finally the man that I was strivin' to be
I passed the test, they fought my nest
But I made it to the top, put your fears to rest
The CROWD applauds and cheers.
LEPRECHAUN: I taught him everything he knows! He he he! Oh, yeah!
FADE TO BLACK
