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                                                                1.



    The following text fades in over black:

    This is a true story. The events depicted in this film took
    place in Minnesota in 1987. At the request of the
    survivors, the names have been changed. Out of respect for
    the dead, the rest has been told exactly as it occurred.

    FLARE TO WHITE

                                                FADE IN FROM WHITE

    Slowly the white becomes a barely perceptible image: white
    particles wave over a white background. A snowfall.

    A car bursts through the curtain of snow.

    The car is equipped with a hitch and is towing another car,
    a brand-new light brown Cutlass Ciera with the pink sales
    sticker showing in its rear window.

    As the car roars past, leaving snow swirling in their dirt,
    the title of the film fades in.

    FARGO

    Green highway signs point the way to MOOREHEAD,
    MINNESOTA/FARGO, NORTH DAKOTA. The roads for the two cities
    diverge. A sign says WELCOME TO NORTH DAKOTA and another
    just after says NOW ENTERING FARGO, ND, POP. 44,412.

    The car pulls into a Rodeway Inn.


1   INT. HOTEL LOBBY                                                 1

    A man in his early forties, balding and starting to paunch,
    goes to the reception desk. The clerk is an older woman.

                      CLERK
            And how are you today, sir?

                      MAN
            Real good now. I'm checking in -
            Mr. Anderson.

    The man prints "Jerry Lundega" onto a registration card,
    then hastily crosses out the last name and starts to print
    "Anderson."

    As she types into a computer:
                                                                2.


                       CLERK
             Okay, Mr. Anderson, and you're
             still planning on staying with us
             just the night, then?

                        ANDERSON
             You bet.


2   INT. HOTEL ROOM                                                  2

    The man turns on the TV, which shows the local evening
    news.

                       NEWS ANCHOR
             - whether they will go to summer
             camp at all. Katie Jensen has more.

                       KATIE
             It was supposed to be a project
             funded by the city council; it was
             supposed to benefit those Fargo-
             Moorehead children who would
             otherwise not be able to afford to
             attend a lakeshore summer camp. But
             nobody consulted city controller
             Stu Jacobson...


3   INT. CHAIN RESTAURANT                                            3

    Anderson sits alone at a table finishing dinner. Muzak
    plays. A middle-aged waitress approaches holding a pot of
    regular coffee in one hand and decaf in the other.

                       WAITRESS
             Can I warm that up for ya there?

                        ANDERSON
             You bet.

    The man looks at his watch.

    THROUGH A WINDSHIELD

    We are pulling into the snowswept parking lot of a one-
    story brick building. Broken neon at the top of the
    building identifies it as the Jolly Troll Tavern. A troll,
    also in neon, holds a champagne glass aloft.

    INSIDE
                                                           3.


The bar is downscale even for this town. Country music
plays on the jukebox.

Two men are seated in a booth at the back. One is short,
slight, youngish. The other man is somewhat older, and
dour. The table in front of them is littered with empty
long-neck beer bottles. The ashtray is full.

Anderson approaches.

                  ANDERSON
        I'm, uh, Jerry Lundegaard -

                  YOUNGER MAN
        You're Jerry Lundegaard?

                  JERRY
        Yah, Shep Proudfoot said -

                  YOUNGER MAN
        Shep said you'd be here at 7:30.
        What gives, man?

                  JERRY
        Shep said 8:30.

                  YOUNGER MAN
        We been sitting here an hour. I've
        peed three times already.

                  JERRY
        I'm sure sorry. I - Shep told me
        8:30. It was a mix-up, I guess.

                  YOUNGER MAN
        Ya got the car?

                  JERRY
        Yah, you bet. It's in the lot
        there. Brand-new burnt umber Ciera.

                  YOUNGER MAN
        Yeah, okay. Well, siddown then. I'm
        Carl Showalter and this is my
        associate Gaear Grimsrud.

                  JERRY
        Yah, how ya doin'. So, uh, we all
        set on this thing, then?

                  YOUNGER MAN
        Sure, Jerry, we're all set. Why
        wouldn't we be?
                                              4.


                  JERRY
        Yah, no, I'm sure you are. Shep
        vouched for you and all. I got
        every confidence in you fellas.

They stare at him. An awkward beat.

                  JERRY
        ... So I guess that's it, then.
        Here's the keys -

                  CARL
        No, that's not it, Jerry.

                  JERRY
        Huh?

                  CARL
        The new vehicle, plus forty
        thousand dollars.

                  JERRY
        Yah, but the deal was, the car
        first, see, then the forty
        thousand, like as if it was the
        ransom. I thought Shep told you -

                  CARL
        Shep didn't tell us much, Jerry.

                  JERRY
        Well, okay, it's -

                  CARL
        Except that you were gonna be here
        at 7:30.

                  JERRY
        Yah, well, that was a mix-up, then.

                  CARL
        Yeah, you already said that.

                  JERRY
        Yah. But it's not a whole pay-in-
        advance deal. I give you a brand-
        new vehicle in advance and -

                  CARL
        I'm not gonna debate you, Jerry.

                  JERRY
        Okay.
                                                            5.


                  CARL
        I'm not gonna sit here and debate.
        I will say this though: what Shep
        told us didn't make a whole lot of
        sense.

                  JERRY
        Oh, no, it's real sound. It's all
        worked out.

                  CARL
        You want your own wife kidnapped?

                  JERRY
        Yah.

Carl Stares. Jerry looks blankly back.

                  CARL
        ... You - my point is, you pay the
        ransom - what eighty thousand
        bucks? - I mean, you give us half
        the ransom, forty thousand, you
        keep half. It's like robbing Peter
        to play Paul, it doesn't make any -

                  JERRY
        Okay, it's - see, it's not me
        payin' the ransom. The thing is, my
        wife, she's wealthy - her dad, he's
        real well off. Now, I'm in a bit of
        trouble -

                  CARL
        What kind of trouble are you in,
        Jerry?

                  JERRY
        Well, that's, that's, I'm not go
        inta, inta - see, I just need
        money. Now, her dad's real wealthy
        -

                  CARL
        So why don't you just ask him for
        the money?

Grimsrud, the dour man who has not yet spoken, now softly
puts in with a Swedish-accented voice:

                  GRIMSRUD
        Or your fucking wife, you know.
                                                             6.


                      CARL
            Or your fucking wife, Jerry.

                      JERRY
            Well, it's all just part of this -
            they don't know I need it, see.
            Okay, so there's that. And even if
            they did, I wouldn't get it. So
            there's that on top, then. See,
            these're personal matters.

                      CARL
            Personal matters.

                      JERRY
            Yah. Personal matters that needn't,
            uh -

                      CARL
            Okay, Jerry. You're tasking us to
            perform this mission, but you, you
            won't, uh, you won't - aw, fuck it,
            let's take a look at that Ciera.


4   INT. MINNEAPOLIS SUBURBAN HOUSE                               4

    Jerry enters through the kitchen door, in a parka and a red
    plaid Elmer Fudd hat. He stamps snow off his feet. He is
    carrying a bag of groceries which he deposits on the
    kitchen counter.

                      JERRY
            Hon? Got the growshries.

                      VOICE
            Thank you, hon. How's Fargo?

                      JERRY
            Yah, real good.

                      VOICE
            Dad's here.

    DEN

    Jerry enters, pulling off his plaid cap.

                      JERRY
            How ya doin', Wade?

    Wade Gustafson is mid-sixtyish, vigorous, with a full head
    of gray hair. His eyes remain fixed on the TV.
                                                                7.


                      WADE
            Yah, pretty good.

                      JERRY
            Whatcha watchin' there?

                           WADE
            Norstars.

                      JERRY
            ... Who they playin'?

                           WADE
            OOOoooh!

    His reaction synchronizes with a reaction from the crowd.


5   INT. KITCHEN                                                     5

    Jerry walks back in, taking off his coat. His wife is
    putting on an apron. Jerry nods toward the living room.

                      JERRY
            Is he stayin' for supper, then?

                      WIFE
            Yah, I think so... Dad, are you
            stayin' for supper?

                           WADE
                   (off)
            Yah.


6   INT. DINING ROOM                                                 6

    Jerry, his wife, Wade and Scotty, twelve years old, sit
    eating.

                      SCOTTY
            May I be excused?

                      JERRY
            Sure, ya done there?

                      SCOTTY
            Uh-huh. Goin' out.

                      WIFE
            Where are you going?
                                      8.


          SCOTTY
Just out. Just McDonald's.

          JERRY
Back at 9:30.

          SCOTTY
Okay.

          WADE
He just ate. And he didn't finish.
He's going to McDonald's instead of
finishing here?

          WIFE
He sees his friends there. It's
okay.

          WADE
It's okay? McDonald's? What do you
think they do there? They don't
drink milkshakes, I assure you!

          WIFE
It's okay, Dad.

          JERRY
Wade, have ya had a chance to think
about, uh, that deal I was talkin'
about, those forty acres there on
Wayzata?

          WADE
You told me about it.

          JERRY
Yah, you said you'd have a think
about it. I understand it's a lot
of money -

          WADE
A heck of a lot. What'd you say you
were gonna put there?

          JERRY
A lot. It's a limited -

          WADE
I know it's a lot.

          JERRY
I mean a parking lot.
                                                               9.


                         WADE
               Yah, well, seven hundred and fifty
               thousand dollars is a lot - ha ha
               ha!

                         JERRY
               Yah, well, it's a chunk, but -

                         WADE
               I thought you were gonna show it to
               Stan Grossman. He passes on this
               stuff before it gets kicked up to
               me.

                         JERRY
               Well, you know Stan'll say no dice.
               That's why you pay him. I'm asking
               you here, Wade. This could work out
               real good for me and Jean and
               Scotty -

                         WADE
               Jean and Scotty never have to
               worry.

    WHITE

    A black like curls through the white. Twisting perspective
    shows that it is an aerial shot of a two-lane highway,
    bordered by snowfields. The highway carries one moving car.


7   INT. CAR                                                        7

    Carl Showalter is driving. Gaear Grimsrud stares blankly
    out.

    After a long beat:

                         GRIMSRUD
               Where is Pancakes Hause?

                         CARL
               What?

                         GRIMSRUD
               We stop at Pancakes Hause.

                         CARL
                                                            10.


            What're you, nuts? We had pancakes
            for breakfast. I gotta go somewhere
            I can get a shot and a beer - and a
            steak maybe. Not more fuckin'
            pancakes. Come on.

    Grimsrud gives him a sour look.

                      CARL
            ... Come on, man. Okay, here's an
            idea. We'll stop outside of
            Brainerd. I know a place there we
            can get laid. Wuddya think?

                      GRIMSRUD
            I'm fuckin' hungry now, you know.

                      CARL
            Yeah, yeah, Jesus - I'm sayin',
            we'll stop for pancakes, then we'll
            get laid. Wuddya think?


8   INT. GUSTAFSON OLDS GARAGE                                    8

    Jerry is sitting in his glassed-in salesman's cubicle just
    off the showroom floor. On the other side of his desk sit
    an irate customer and his wife.

                      CUSTOMER
            We sat here right in this room and
            went over this and over this!

                      JERRY
            Yah, but that TruCoat -

                      CUSTOMER
            I sat right here and said I didn't
            want no TruCoat!

                      JERRY
            Yah, but I'm sayin', that TruCoat,
            you don't get it and you get
            oxidization problems. It'll cost
            you a heck of lot more'n five
            hunnert -

                      CUSTOMER
            You're sittin' here, you're talkin'
            in circles! You're talkin' like we
            didn't go over this already!

                      JERRY
                                                            11.


            Yah, but this TruCoat -

                      CUSTOMER
            We had us a deal here for nine-
            teen-five. You sat there and darned
            if you didn't tell me you'd get
            this car, these options, WITHOUT
            THE SEALANT, for nine-teen-five!

                      JERRY
            Okay, I'm not sayin' I didn't -

                      CUSTOMER
            You called me twenty minutes ago
            and said you had it! Ready to make
            delivery, ya says! Come on down and
            get it! And here ya are and you're
            wastin' my time and you're wastin'
            my wife's time and I'm payin'
            nineteen-five for this vehicle
            here!

                      JERRY
            Well, okay, I'll talk to my boss...

    He rises, and, as he leaves:

                      JERRY
            ... See, they install that TruCoat
            at the factory, there's nothin' we
            can do, but I'll talk to my boss.

    The couple watch him go to a nearby cubicle.

                      CUSTOMER
            These guys here - these guys! It's
            always the same! It's always more!
            He's a liar!

                      WIFE
            Please, dear.

                      CUSTOMER
            We went over this and over this -


9   INT. NEARBY CUBICLE                                           9

    Jerry sits perched on the desk of another salesman who is
    eating lunch as he watches a hockey game on a small
    portable TV.

                      JERRY
                                                 12.


             So you're goin' to the Gophers on
             Sunday?

                        SALESMAN
             You bet.

                       JERRY
             You wouldn't have an extra ticket
             there?

                       SALESMAN
             They're playin' the Buckeyes!

                        JERRY
             Yah.

                       SALESMAN
             Ya kiddin'!


10   INT. JERRY'S CUBICLE                              10

     Jerry re-enters.

                       JERRY
             Well, he never done this before,
             but seein' as it's special
             circumstances and all, he says I
             can knock one hunnert off that
             TruCoat.

                       CUSTOMER
             One hundred! You lied to me, Mr.
             Lundegaard. You're a bald-faced
             liar!

     Jerry sits staring at his lap.

                       CUSTOMER
             ... A fucking liar -

                       WIFE
             Bucky, please!

     Jerry mumbles into his lap:

                       JERRY
             One hunnert's the best we can do
             here.

                        CUSTOMER
                                                                13.


             Oh, for Christ's sake, where's my
             goddamn checkbook. Let's get this
             over with.

     WIDE EXTERIOR: TRUCK STOP

     There is a restaurant with many big rigs parked nearby, and
     a motel with an outsize Paul Bunyan and Babe the Blue Ox
     flanking its sign: BLUE OX MOTEL.


11   INT. MOTEL ROOM                                                  11

     Carl Showalter and Gaear Grimsrud are in the twin beds
     having sex with two truck-stop hookers.

                       CARL
             Oh, Jesus, yeah.

                       HIS HOOKER
             There ya go, sugar.

                       GRIMSRUD
             Nnph.

                       HIS HOOKER
             Yeah. Yeah. Oh, yeah.

     LATER

     The couples like in their respective beds, gazing at the
     offscreen TV.

                       ED MCMAHON
             - Johnny's guests tonight will be
             Lee Majors, George Wendt, and Steve
             Boutsikaros from the San Diego Zoo,
             so keep that dial -


12   INT. LUNDEGAARD KITCHEN                                          12

     We hear a morning show on television. Jean Lundegaard is
     making coffee in the kitchen as Scott eats cereal at the
     table.

                       JEAN
             I'm talkin' about your potential.

                       SCOTT
                  (absently)
             Uh-huh.
                                           14.


                  JEAN
        You're not a C student.

                     SCOTT
        Uhn.

                  JEAN
        And yet you're gettin' C grades.
        It's this disparity there that
        concerns your dad and me.

                     SCOTT
        Uh-huh.

                  JEAN
        You know what a disparity is?

                     SCOTT
                (testily)
        Yeah!

                  JEAN
        Okay. Well, that's why we don't
        want ya goin' out fer hockey.

                     SCOTT
        Oh, man!

The phone rings.

                  SCOTT
        ... What's the big deal? It's an
        hour -

                     JEAN
        Hold on.

She picks up the phone.

                  JEAN
        ... Hello?

                  PHONE VOICE
        Yah, hiya, hon.

                  JEAN
        Oh, hiya, Dad.

                  WADE
        Jerry around?

                     JEAN
                                             15.


        Yah, he's still here - I'll catch
        him for ya.

She holds the phone away and calls:

                    JEAN
        ... Hon?

                    VOICE
        Yah.

                    JEAN
        It's Dad.

                    VOICE
        Yah...

Jerry enters in shirtsleeves and tie.

                  JERRY
        ... Yah, okay...

                  SCOTT
        Look, Dad, there is no fucking way
        -

                    JEAN
        Scott!

                  JERRY
        Say, let's watch the language -

He takes the phone.

                  JERRY
        How ya doin', Wade?

                  WADE
        What's goin' on there?

                  JERRY
        Oh, nothing, Wade. How ya doin'
        there?

                  WADE
        Stan Grossman looked at your
        proposal. Says it's pretty sweet.

                  JERRY
        No kiddin'?

                    WADE
                                                             16.


             We might be innarested.

                       JERRY
             No kiddin'! I'd need the cash
             pretty quick there. In order to
             close the deal.

                       WADE
             Come by at 2:30 and we'll talk
             about it. If your numbers are
             right, Stan says its pretty sweet.
             Stan Grossman.

                         JERRY
             Yah.

                         WADE
             2:30.

     Click. Dial tone.

                       JERRY
             Yah, okay.


13   INT. GUSTAFSON OLD GARAGE                                     13

     Jerry wanders through the service area where cars are being
     worked on. He stops by an Indian in blue jeans who is

     looking at the underside of a car that sits on a hydraulic
     lift with a cage light hanging off its innards.

                       JERRY
             Say, Shep, how ya doin' there?

                         SHEP
             Mm.

                       JERRY
             Say, ya know those two fellas ya
             put me in touch with, up there in
             Fargo?

                       SHEP
             Put you in touch with Grimsrud.

                       JERRY
             Well, yah, but he had a buddy
             there. He, uh -

                       SHEP
             Well, I don't vouch for him.
                                                        17.


                  JERRY
        Well, that's okay, I just -

                  SHEP
        I vouch for Grimsrud. Who's his
        buddy?

                  JERRY
        Carl somethin'?

                  SHEP
        Never heard of him. Don't vouch for
        him.

                  JERRY
        Well, that's okay, he's a buddy of
        the guy ya vouched for, so I'm not
        worryin'. I just, I was wonderin',
        see, I gotta get in touch with 'em
        for, I might not need it anymore,
        sumpn's happenin', see -

                  SHEP
        Call 'em up.

                  JERRY
        Yah, well, see, I did that, and I
        haven't been able to get 'em, so I
        thought you maybe'd know an
        alternate number or what have ya.

                  SHEP
        Nope.

Jerry slaps his fist into his open palm and snaps his
fingers.

                  JERRY
        Okay, well, real good, then.

CAR

Carl is driving. Grimsrud stares out front.

After a beat:

                  CARL
        ... Look at that. Twin Cities. IDS
        Building, the big glass one.
        Tallest skyscraper in the Midwest.
        After the Sears, uh, Chicago... You
        never been to Minneapolis?
                                                   18.


                       GRIMSRUD
             No.

                       CARL
             ... Would it kill you to say
             something?

                       GRIMSRUD
             I did.

                       CARL
             "No." First thing you've said in
             the last four hours. That's a,
             that's a fountain of conversation,
             man. That's a geyser. I mean, whoa,
             daddy, stand back, man. Shit, I'm
             sittin' here driving, man, doin'
             all the driving, whole fuckin' way
             from Brainerd, drivin', tryin' to,
             you know, tryin' to chat, keep our
             spirits up, fight the boredom of
             the road, and you can't say one
             fucking thing just in the way of
             conversation.

     Grimsurd smokes, gazing out the window.

                       CARL
             ... Well, fuck it, I don't have to
             talk either, man. See how you like
             it...

     He drives.

                       CARL
             ... Total silence...


14   INT. JERRY'S CUBICLE                                14

     He is on the phone.

                       JERRY
             Yah, real good. How you doin'?

                       VOICE
             Pretty good, Mr. Lundegaard. You're
             damned hard to get on the phone.

                       JERRY
             Yah, it's pretty darned busy here,
             but that's the way we like it.
                                      19.


          VOICE
That's for sure. Now, I just need,
on these last, these financing
documents you sent us, I can't read
the serial numbers of the vehicles
on here, so I -

          JERRY
But I already got the, it's okay,
the loans are in place, I already
got the, the what, the -

          VOICE
Yeah, the three hundred and twenty
thousand dollars, you got the money
last month.

          JERRY
Yah, so we're all set.

          VOICE
Yeah, but the vehicles you were
borrowing on, I just can't read the
serial numbers on your applicaton.
Maybe if you could just read them
to me -

          JERRY
But the deal's already done, I
already got the money -

          VOICE
Yeah, but we have an audit here, I
just have to know that these
vehicles you're financing with this
money, that they really exist.

          JERRY
Yah, well, they exist all right.

          VOICE
I'm sure they do - ha ha! But I
can't read their serial numbers
here. So if you could read me -

          JERRY
Well, but see, I don't have 'em in
front a me - why don't I just fax
you over a copy -

         VOICE
                                                          20.


        No, fax is no good, that's what I
        have and I can't read the darn
        thing -

                  JERRY
        Yah, okay, I'll have my girl send
        you over a copy, then.

                  VOICE
        Okay, because if I can't correlate
        this note with the specific
        vehicles, then I gotta call back
        that money -

                  JERRY
        Yah, how much money was that?

                  VOICE
        Three hundred and twenty thousand
        dollars. See, I gotta correlate
        that money with the cars it's being
        lent on.

                  JERRY
        Yah, no problem, I'll just fax that
        over to ya, then.

                  VOICE
        No, no, fax is -

                  JERRY
        I mean send it over. I'll shoot it
        right over to ya.

                  VOICE
        Okay.

                  JERRY
        Okay, real good, then.

CLOSE ON TELEVISION

A morning-show host in an apron stands behind a counter on
a kitchen set.

                  HOST
        So I seperate the - how the heck do
        I get the egg out of the shell
        without breaking it?

Jean Lundegaard is curled up on the couch with a cup of
coffee, watching the television.
                                                                21.


                       HOSTESS
             You just prick a little hole in the
             end and blow!

     Jean smiles as we hear laughter and applause from the
     studio audience. She hears something else - a faint
     scraping sound - and looks up.

                       HOST
             Okay, here goes nothing.

     The scraping sound persists. Jean sets down her coffee cup
     and rises.

     From the studio audience:

                        AUDIENCE
             Awoooo!


15   INT. KITCHEN                                                     15

     We track toward the back door. A curtain is stretched tight
     across its window.

     Jean pulls the curtain back. Bright sunlight amplified by
     snow floods in.

     A man in an orange ski mask looks up from the lock.

     Jean gasps, drops the curtain, runs and runs into -

     - a taller man, also in a ski mask, already in the house.

     We hear the crack of the back-door window being smashed.

     The tall man - Gaear Grimsrud - grabs Jean's wrist.

     She screams, staring at her own imprisoned wrist, then
     wraps her gaping mouth around Grimsrud's gloved thumb and
     bites down hard.

     He drops her wrist. As Carl enters, she races up the
     stairs.

                        GRIMSRUD
             Unguent.

                        CARL
             Huh?

     Grimsurd looks at his thumb.
                                                                22.


                       GRIMSRUD
             I need ... unguent.


16   INT. UPSTAIRS BEDROOM                                            16

     As the two men enter, a door at the far side is slamming
     shut. A cord snakes in under the door.


17   INT. MASTER BATHROOM                                             17

     Jean, sobbing, frantically pushes at buttons on the
     princess phone.

     The phone pops out of her hands, jangles across the tile
     floor, smashes against the door and then bounces away, its
     cord ripped free.

     With a groaning sound, the door shifts in its frame.


18   INT. BEDROOM                                                     18

     Grimsrud has a crowbar jammed in between the bathroom door
     and frame, and is working it.


19   INT. BATHROOM                                                    19

     Jean crosses to a high window above the toilet and throws
     it open. Snow that had drifted against the window sifts
     lightly in. Jean steps up onto the toilet.

     The door creaks, moving as one piece in its frame.

     Jean glances back as she steps up from the toilet seat to
     the tank.

     The groaning of the door ends with the wood around its knob
     splintering and the knob itself falling out onto the floor.

     The door swings open.

     Grimsrud and Carl enter.

     THEIR POV

     Room empty, window open.

     Carl strides to the window and hoists himself out.
                                                               23.


     Grimsrud opens the medicine cabinet and delicately taps
     aside various bottles and tubes, seeking the proper
     unguent.

     He finds a salve but after a moment sets it down, noticing
     something in the mirror.

     The shower curtain is drawn around the tub.

     He steps toward it.

     As he reaches for the curtain, it explodes outward,
     animated by thrashing limbs.

     Jean, screaming, tangled in the curtain, rips it off its
     rings and stumbles out into the bedroom. Grimsrud follows.


20   INT. BEDROOM                                                    20

     Jean rushes toward the door, cloaked by the shower curtain
     but awkwardly trying to push it off.

     UPSTAIRS LANDING

     Still thrashing, Jean crashes against the upstairs railing,
     trips on the curtain and falls, thumping crazily down the
     stairs.

     Grimsrud trots down after her.

     A PLAQUE: WADE GUSTAFSON INCORPORTATED


21   INT. WADE'S OFFICE                                              21

     Wade sits behind his desk; another man rises as Jerry
     enters.

                       JERRY
             How ya doin' there, Stan? How are
             ya, Wade?

     Stan Grossman shakes his hand.

                       STAN
             Good to see ya again, Jerry. If
             these numbers are right, this looks
             pretty sweet.

                          JERRY
                                              24.


        Oh, those numbers are all right,
        bleemee.

                  WADE
        This is do-able.

                  STAN
        Congratulations, Jerry.

                  JERRY
        Yah, thanks, Stan, it's a pretty -

                  WADE
        What kind of finder's fee were you
        looking for?

                   JERRY
        ... Huh?

                  STAN
        The financials are pretty thorough,
        so the only thing we don't know is
        your fee.

                  JERRY
        ... My fee? Wade, what the heck're
        you talkin' about?

                  WADE
        Stan and I're okay.

                   JERRY
        Yah.

                  WADE
        We're good to loan in.

                   JERRY
        Yah.

                  WADE
        But we never talked about your fee
        for bringin' it to us.

                  JERRY
        No, but, Wade, see, I was bringin'
        you this deal for you to loan me
        the money to put in. It's my deal
        here, see?

Wade scowls, looks at Stan.

                   STAN
                                              25.


        Jerry - we thought you were
        bringin' us an investment.

                  JERRY
        Yah, right -

                  STAN
        You're sayin' - what're you sayin'?

                  WADE
        You're sayin' that we put in all
        the money and you collect when it
        pays off?

                  JERRY
        No, no. I - I'd, I'd - pay you back
        the principal, and interest - heck,
        I'd go - one over prime -

                  STAN
        We're not a bank, Jerry.

Wade is angry.

                  WADE
        What the heck, Jerry, if I wanted
        bank interest on seven hunnert'n
        fifty thousand I'd go to Midwest
        Federal. Talk to Bill Diehl.

                  STAN
        He's at Norstar.

                    WADE
        He's at -

                  JERRY
        No, see, I don't need a finder's
        fee, I need - finder's fee's, what,
        ten percent, heck that's not gonna
        do it for me. I need the principal.

                  STAN
        Jerry, we're not just going to give
        you seven hundred and fifty
        thousand dollars.

                  WADE
        What the heck were you thinkin'?
        Heck, if I'm only gettin' bank
        interest, I'd look for complete
        security. Heck, FDIC. I don't see
        nothin' like that here.
                                                               26.


                       JERRY
             Yah, but I - okay, I would, I'd
             guarantee ya your money back.

                       WADE
             I'm not talkin' about your damn
             word, Jerry. Geez, what the heck're
             you?... Well, look, I don't want to
             cut you out of the loop, but his
             here's a good deal. I assume, if
             you're not innarested, you won't
             mind if we move on it
             independently.


22   INT. PARKING LOT                                                22

     We are high and wide on the office building's parking lot.

     Jerry emerges wrapped in a parka, his arms sticking stiffly
     out at his sides, his breath vaporizing. He goes to his
     car, opens its front door, pulls out a red plastic scraper
     and starts methodically scraping off the thin crust of ice
     that has developed on his windshield.

     The scrape-scrape-scrape sound carries in the frigid air.

     Jerry goes into a frenzy, banging the scraper against the
     windshield and the hood of his car.

     The tantrum passes. Jerry stands pantin, staring at nothing
     in particular.

     Scrape-scrape-scrape - he goes back to work on the
     windshield.

     FRONT DOOR

     A beat, silent but for a key scraping at the lock.

     The door swings open and Jerry edges in, looking about,
     holding a sack of groceries.

                          JERRY
             Hon?

     He shuts the door.

                       JERRY
             ... Got the growshries...

     He has already seen the shower curtain on the floor. He
     frowns, pokes at it with his foot.
                                                                27.


                          JERRY
             ... Hon?


23   INT. UPSTAIRS BATHROOM                                           23

     Jerry walks in. He sets the groceries down on the toilet
     tank.

     He looks at the open window, through which snow still sifts
     in. He shuts it.

     He picks up the small tube of unguent that sits on the
     sink, frowns at it, puts it back in the medicine chest.

     He looks at the shower curtain rod holding empty rings.


24   INT. FOYER                                                       24

     Once again we are looking at the rumpled shower curtain.

     From another room:

                       JERRY
             Yah, Wade, I - it's Jerry, I.

     Then, slightly more agitated.

                       JERRY
             ... Yah, Wade, it's, I, it's
             Jerry...

     Beat.

                       JERRY
             ... Wade, it's Jerry, I - we gotta
             talk, Wade, it's terrible...

     Beat.


25   INT. LIVING ROOM                                                 25

     Jerry stands in wide shot, hands on hips, looking down at a
     telephone.

     After a motionless beat he picks up the phone and punches
     in a number.

                       JERRY
             ... Yah, Wade Gustafson, please.
                                                                28.


     BLACK

     Hold in black.

     A slow tilt down from night sky brings the head of a large
     paper-mache figure into frame. It is a flannel-shirt
     woodsman carrying a double-edged ax over one shoulder. As
     we hear the rumble of an approaching car, the continuing
     tilt and boom down brings us down the woodsman's body to a
     pedestal.

     A sweep of headlights illuminates a sign on the pedestal:
     WELCOME TO BRAINDERD - HOME OF PAUL BUNYAN.

     The headlights sweep off and a car hums past and on into
     the background. The two-lane highway is otherwise empty.


26   INT. CAR                                                         26

     Carl drives. Grimsrud smokes and gazes out the window.

     From the back seat we hear whimpering.

     Grimsrud turns to look.

     Jean lies bound and curled on the back seat underneath a
     tarpaulin.

                          GRIMSRUD
                Shut the fuck up or I'll throw you
                back in the trunk, you know.

                          CARL
                Geez. That's more'n I've heard you
                say all week.

     Grimsrud stares at him, then turns back to the window.

     At a loud WHOOP Carl starts and looks back out the rear
     window. Fifty yards behind a state trooper has turned on
     his gumballs.

     Carl eases the car onto the shoulder.

                          CARL
                Ah, shit, the tags...

     Grimsrud looks at him.

                         CARL
                                                           29.


           ... It's just the tags. I never put
           my tags on the car. Don't worry,
           I'll take care of this.

He looks into the back seat as the car bounces and slows on
the gravel shoulder.

                     CARL
           ... Let's keep still back there,
           lady, or we're gonna have to, ya
           know, to shoot ya.

Grimsrud stares at Carl.

                     CARL
           ... Hey! I'll take care of this!

Both cars have stopped. Carl looks up at the rear-view
mirror.

The trooper is stopped on the shoulder just behind them,
writing in his citation book.

Carl watches.

We hear the trooper's door open.

The trooper walks up the shoulder, one hand resting lightly
on top of his holster, his breath steaming in the cold
night air.

Carl opens his window as the trooper draws up.

                     CARL
           How can I help you, officer?

The trooper scans the inside of the car, taking his time.

Grimsrud smokes and gazes calmly out his window.

Finally:

                     TROOPER
           This is a new car, then, sir?

                     CARL
           It certainly is, officer. Still got
           that smell!

                    TROOPER
                                                        30.


        You're required to display
        temporary tags, either in the plate
        area or taped inside the back
        window.

                  CARL
        Certainly -

                  TROOPER
        Can I see your license and
        registration please?

                  CARL
        Certainly.

He reaches for his wallet.

                  CARL
        ... I was gonna tape up the
        temporary tag, ya know, to be in
        full compliance, but it, uh, it, uh
        ... must a slipped my mind...

He extends his wallet toward the trooper, a folded fifty-
dollar bill protruding from it.

                  CARL
        ... So maybe the best thing would
        be to take care of that, right here
        in Brainerd.

                  TROOPER
        What's this, sir?

                  CARL
        That's my license and regis-
        tration. I wanna be in compliance.

He forces a laugh.

                  CARL
        ... I was just thinking I could
        take care of it right here. In
        Brainerd.

The policeman thoughtfully pats the fifty into the billfold
and hands the billfold back into the car.

                  TROOPER
        Put that back in your pocket,
        please.

Carl's nervous smile fades.
                                                           31.


                  TROOPER
        ... And step out of the car,
        please, sir.

Grimsrud, smiling thinly, shakes his head.

There is a whimpering sound.

The policeman hesitates.

Another sound.

The policeman leans forward into the car, listening.

Grimsrud reaches across Carl, grabs the trooper by the hair
and slams his head down onto the car door.

The policeman grunts, digs awkwardly for footing outside
and throws an arm for balance against the outside of the
car.

With his free hand, Grimsrud pops the glove compartment. He
brings a gun out and reaches across Carl and shoots - BANG
- into the back of the trooper's head.

Jean screams.

                   GRIMSRUD
        Shut up.

He releases the policeman.

The policeman's head slides out the window and his body
flops back onto the street.

Carl looks out at the cop in the road.

                  CARL
             (softly)
        Whoa... Whoa, Daddy.

Grimsrud takes the trooper's hat off of Carl's lap and
sails it out the open window.

                  GRIMSRUD
        You'll take care of it. Boy, you
        are smooth smooth, you know.

                  CARL
        Whoa, Daddy.

Jean, for some reason, screams again. Then stops.
                                                                32.


                       GRIMSRUD
             Clear him off the road.

                         CARL
             Yeah.

     He gets out.


27   EXT. ROAD                                                        27

     Carl leans down to hoist up the body.

     Headlights appear: an oncoming car.


28   INT. CIERA                                                       28

     Grimsrud notices.


29   EXT. ROAD                                                        29

     The car approaches, slowing.

     Carl, with the trooper's body hoisted halfway up, is frozen
     in the headlights.

     The car accelerates and roars past and away. We just make
     out the silhouettes of two occupants in front.


30   INT. CIERA                                                       30

     Grimsrud slides into the driver's seat. He squeals into a
     U-turn, the driver's door slamming shut with his spin.

     Small red tail lights fishtail up ahead. The pursued car
     churns up fine snow.

     Grimsrud takes the cigarette from his mouth and stubs it in
     his ashtray. We hear the churning of the car wheels and the
     pinging of snow clods and salt on the car's underside.

     In the back seat, Jean starts screaming.

     Grimsrud is not gaining on the tail lights.

     He fights with the wheel as his car swims on the road face.

     The red tail lights ahead start to turn. With a distant
     crunching sound, they disappear.
                                                                33.


     The headlights now show only empty road, starting to turn.

     Grimsrud frowns and slows.

     His headlights show the car up ahead off the road, crumpled
     around a telephone pole, having failed to hold a turn.

     Grimsrud brakes.

     Jean slides off the back seat and thumps into the legwell.

     Grimsrud sweeps his gun off the front seat, throws open his
     door and gets out.


31   EXT. ROAD                                                        31

     The wrecked car's headlights shine off into a snowfield
     abutting the highway. A young man in a down parka is
     limping across the snowfield, away from the wrecked car.

     Grimsrud strides calmly out after the injured boy. He
     raises his gun and fires.

     With a poof of feathers, a hole opens up in the boy's back
     and he pitches into the snow.

     Grimsrud walks up to the wreck and peers in its half-open
     door.

     A young woman is trapped inside the twisted wreckage,
     injured.

     Snow swirls in the headlights of the wreck.

     Grimsrud raises his gun and fires.

     AN OIL PAINTING

     A blue-winged teal in flight over a swampy marshland. The
     room in which it hangs is dark. We hear off-screen snoring.

     We track off to reveal an easel upon which we see a half-
     completed oil of a grey mallard.

     The continuing track reveals a couple in bed, sleeping. The
     man, fortyish, pajama-clad, is big, and big-bellied. His
     mouth is agape. He snores. His arms are flung over a woman
     in her thirties, wearing a nightie, mouth also open, not
     snoring.
                                                         34.


We hold for a long beat on their regular breathing and
snoring.

The phone rings.

The woman stirs.

                  WOMAN
        Oh, geez...

She reaches for the phone.

                  WOMAN
        ... Hi, it's Marge...

The man stirs and clears his throat with a long deep
rumble.

                  MARGE
        ... Oh, my. Where?... Yah... Oh,
        geez...

The man sits up, gazes stupidly about.

                  MARGE
        ... Okay. There in a jif... Real
        good, then.

She hangs up.

                  MARGE
        ... You can sleep, hon. It's early
        yet.

                    MAN
        Gotta go?

                    MARGE
        Yah.

The man swings his legs out.

                  MAN
        I'll fix ya some eggs.

                  MARGE
        That's okay, hon. I gotta run.

                  MAN
        Gotta eat a breakfast, Marge. I'll
        fix ya some eggs.
                                                             35.


                       MARGE
             Aw, you can sleep, hon.

                       MAN
             Ya gotta eat a breakfast...

     He clears his throat with another deep rumble.

                       MAN
             ... I'll fix ya some eggs.

                         MARGE
             Aw, Norm.

     PLATE

     Leavings of a huge plate of eggs, ham, toast.

     Wider, we see Marge now wearing a beige police uniform. A
     patch on one arm says BRAINERD POLICE DEPARTMENT. She wears
     a heavy belt holding a revolver, walkie-talkie and various
     other jangling police impedimenta. Norm is in a dressing
     gown.

                       MARGE
             Thanks, hon. Time to shove off.

                       NORM
             Love ya, Margie.

     As she struggles into a parka:

                       MARGE
             Love ya, hon.

     He is exiting back to the bedroom; she exits out the front
     door.


32   EXT. GUNDERSON HOUSE                                          32

     Dawn. Marge is making her way down the icy front stoop to
     her prowler.


33   INT. GUNDERSON HOUSE                                          33

     Norm sits back onto the bed, shrugging off his robe. Off-
     screen we hear the front door open.

     FRONT DOOR
                                                        36.


Marge stamps the snow off her shoes.

                         MARGE
          Hon?

                         NORM
                 (off)
          Yah?

                    MARGE
          Prowler needs a jump.

HIGHWAY

Two police cars and an ambulance sit idling at the side of
the road, a pair of men inside each car.

The first car's driver door opens and a figure in a parka
emerges, holding two styrofoam cups. His partner leans
across the seat to close the door after him.

The reverse shows Marge approaching from her own squad car.

                    MARGE
          Hiya, Lou.

                    LOU
          Margie. Thought you might need a
          little warm-up.

He hands her one of the cups of coffee.

                    MARGE
          Yah, thanks a bunch. So what's the
          deal, now? Gary says triple
          homicide?

                    LOU
          Yah, looks pretty bad. Two of'm're
          over here.

Marge looks around as they start walking.

                    MARGE
          Where is everybody?

                    LOU
          Well - it's cold, Margie.

BY THE WRECK
                                                        37.


Laid out in the early morning light is the wrecked car, a
pair of footprints leading out to a man in a bright orange
parka face down in the bloodstained snow, and one pair of
footsteps leading back to the road.

Marge is peering into the car.

                  MARGE
        Ah, geez. So... Aw, geez.   Here's
        the second one... It's in   the head
        and the ... hand there, I   guess
        that's a defensive wound.   Okay.

Marge looks up from the car.

                  MARGE
        ... Where's the state trooper?

Lou, up on the shoulder, jerks his thumb.

                  LOU
        Back there a good piece. In the
        ditch next to his prowler.

Marge looks around at the road.

                  MARGE
        Okay, so we got a state trooper
        pulls someone over, we got a
        shooting, and these folks drive by,
        and we got a high-speed pursuit,
        ends here, and this execution-type
        deal.

                  LOU
        Yah.

                  MARGE
        I'd be very surprised if our
        suspect was from Brainerd.

                  LOU
        Yah.

Marge is studying the ground.

                  MARGE
        Yah. And I'll tell you what, from
        his footprints he looks like a big
        fella -

Marge suddenly doubles over, putting her head between her
knees down near the snow.
                                                        38.


                  LOU
        Ya see something down there, Chief?

                  MARGE
        Uh - I just, I think I'm gonna
        barf.

                  LOU
        Geez, you okay, Margie?

                  MARGE
        I'm fine - it's just morning
        sickness.

She gets up, sweeping snow from her knees.

                  MARGE
        ... Well, that passed.

                  LOU
        Yah?

                  MARGE
        Yah. Now I'm hungry again.

                  LOU
        You had breakfast yet, Margie?

                  MARGE
        Oh, yah. Norm made some eggs.

                  LOU
        Yah? Well, what now, d'ya think?

                  MARGE
        Let's go take a look at that
        trooper.

BY THE STATE TROOPER'S CAR

Marge's prowler is parked nearby.

Marge is on her hands and knees by a body down in the
ditch, again looking at footprints in the snow. She calls
up to the road:

                  MARGE
        There's two of 'em, Lou!

                  LOU
        Yah?
                                                           39.


                  MARGE
        Yah, this guy's smaller than his
        buddy.

                    LOU
        Oh, yah?

DOWN IN THE DITCH

In the foreground is the head of the state trooper, facing
us. Peering at it from behind, still on her hands and
knees, is Marge.

                  MARGE
        For Pete's sake.

She gets up, clapping the snow off her hands, and climbs
out of the ditch.

                  LOU
        How's it look, Marge?

                  MARGE
        Well, he's got his gun on his hip
        there, and he looks like a nice
        enough guy. It's a real shame.

                    LOU
        Yah.

                  MARGE
        You haven't monkeyed with his car
        there, have ya?

                    LOU
        No way.

She is looking at the prowler, which still idles on the
shoulder.

                  MARGE
        Somebody shut his lights. I guess
        the little guy sat in there,
        waitin' for his buddy t'come back.

                  LOU
        Yah, woulda been cold out here.

                  MARGE
        Heck, yah. Ya think, is Dave open
        yet?

                    LOU
                                                   40.


             You don't think he's mixed up in -

                       MARGE
             No, no, I just wanna get Norm some
             night crawlers.


34   INT. PROWLER                                        34

     Marge is driving; Lou sits next to her.

                       MARGE
             You look in his citation book?

                       LOU
             Yah...

     He looks at his notebook.

                       LOU
             ... Last vehicle he wrote in was a
             tan Ciera at 2:18 a.m. Under the
             plate number he put DLR - I figure
             they stopped him or shot him before
             he could finish fillin' out the tag
             number.

                       MARGE
             Uh-huh.

                       LOU
             So I got the state lookin' for a
             Ciera with a tag startin' DLR. They
             don't got no match yet.

                       MARGE
             I'm not sure I agree with you a
             hunnert percent on your policework,
             there, Lou.

                       LOU
             Yah?

                       MARGE
             Yah, I think that vehicle there
             probly had dealer plates. DLR?

                       LOU
             Oh...

     Lou gazes out the window, thinking.

                       LOU
                                                        41.


           ... Geez.

                     MARGE
           Yah. Say, Lou, ya hear the one
           about the guy who couldn't afford
           personalized plates, so he went and
           changed his name to J2L 4685?

                     LOU
           Yah, that's a good one.

                       MARGE
           Yah.

THE ROAD

The police car enters with a whoosh and hums down a
straight-ruled empty highway, cutting a landscape of flat
and perfect white.

EMBERS FAMILY RESTAURANT

Jerry, Wade, and Stan Grossman sit in a booth, sipping
coffee. Outside the window, snow falls from a gunmetal sky.

                     WADE
           - All's I know is, ya got a
           problem, ya call a professional!

                     JERRY
           No! They said no cops! They were
           darned clear on that, Wade! They
           said you call the cops and we -

                     WADE
           Well, a course they're gonna say
           that! But where's my protection?
           They got Jean here! I give these
           sons a bitches a million dollars,
           where's my guarantee they're gonna
           let her go.

                     JERRY
           Well, they -

                     WADE
           A million dollars is a lot a damn
           money! And there they are, they got
           my daughter!

                       JERRY
                                              42.


        Yah, but think this thing through
        here, Wade. Ya give 'em what they
        want, why wont' they let her go?
        You gotta listen to me on this one,
        Wade.

                  WADE
        Heck, you don't know! You're just
        whistlin' Dixie here! I'm sayin',
        the cops, they can advise us on
        this! I'm sayin' call a
        professional!

                  JERRY
        No! No cops! That's final! This is
        my deal here, Wade! Jean is my wife
        here!

                  STAN
        I gotta tell ya, Wade, I'm leanin'
        to Jerry's viewpoint here.

                  WADE
        Well -

                  STAN
        We gotta protect Jean. These -
        we're not holdin' any cards here,
        Wade, they got all of 'em. So they
        call the shots.

                  JERRY
        You're darned tootin'!

                  WADE
        Ah, dammit!

                  STAN
        I'm tellin' ya.

                  WADE
        Well... Why don't we...

He saws a finger under his nose.

                  WADE
        ... Stan, I'm thinkin' we should
        offer 'em half a million.

                  JERRY
        Now come on here, no way, Wade! No
        way!
                                                                43.


                       STAN
             We're not horse-trading here, Wade,
             we just gotta bite the bullet on
             this thing.

                        JERRY
             Yah!

                       STAN
             What's the next step here, Jerry?

                       JERRY
             They're gonna call, give me
             instructions for a drop. I'm
             supposed to have the money ready
             tomorrow.

                        WADE
             Dammit!

     THE CASHIER

     She rings up two dollars forty.

                       CASHIER
             How was everything today?

                       JERRY
             Yah, real good now.


35   EXT. PARKING LOT                                                 35

     Snow continues to fall. Jerry and Stan stand bundled in
     their parkas and galoshes near a row of beached vehicles.

     Wade sits behind the wheel of an idling Lincoln, waiting
     for Stan.

                       STAN
             Okay. We'll get the money together.
             Don't worry about it, Jerry. Now,
             d'you want anyone at home, with
             you, until they call?

                       JERRY
             No, I - they don't want - they're
             just s'posed to be dealin' with me,
             they were real clear.

                        STAN
             Yah.
                                                                44.


     Jerry pounds his mittened hands together against the cold.

                       JERRY
             Ya know, they said no one listenin'
             in, they'll be watchin', ya know.
             Maybe it's all bull, but like you
             said, Stan, they're callin' the
             shots.

                       STAN
             Okay. And Scotty, is he gonna be
             all right?

                       JERRY
             Yah, geez, Scotty. I'll go talk to
             him.

     There is a tap at the horn from Wade, and Stan gets into
     the Lincoln.

                       STAN
             We'll call.

     The Lincoln spits snow as it grinds out of the lot and
     fishtails out onto the boulevard.


36   INT. SCOTTY'S BEDROOM                                            36

     Scotty lies on the bed, weeping. Jerry enters and perches
     uncomfortably on the edge of his bed.

                       JERRY
             ... How ya doin' there, Scotty?

                       SCOTT
             Dad! What're they doing? Wuddya
             think they're doin' with Mom?

                       JERRY
             It's okay, Scotty. They're not
             gonna want to hurt her any. These
             men, they just want money, see.

                       SCOTT
             What if - what if sumpn goes wrong?

                       JERRY
             No, no, nothin's goin' wrong here.
             Grandad and I, we're - we're makin'
             sure this gets handled right.

     Scott snorfles and sits up.
                                                             45.


                       SCOTT
             Dad, I really think we should call
             the cops.

                       JERRY
             No! We can't let anyone know about
             this thing! We gotta play ball with
             these guys - you ask Stan Grossman,
             he'll tell ya the same thing!

                       SCOTT
             Yeah, but -

                       JERRY
             We're gonna get Mom back for ya,
             but we gotta play ball. Ya know,
             that's the deal. Now if Lorraine
             calls, or Sylvia, you just say that
             Mom is in Florida with Pearl and
             Marty...

     Scotty starts to weep again. Jerry stares down at his lap.

                       JERRY
             ... That's the best we can do here.


37   EXT. CABIN                                                    37

     It is a lakeside cabin surrounded by white. A brown Ciera
     with dealer plates is pulling into the drive.

     Grimsrud climbs out of the passenger seat as Carl climbs
     out of the driver's. Grimsrud opens the back door and, with
     an arm on her elbow, helps Jean out. She has her hands tied
     behind her and a black hood over her head.

     With a cry, she swings her elbow out of Grimsrud's grasp
     and lurches away across the front lawn. Grimsrud moves to
     retrieve her but Carl, grinning, lays a hand on his
     shoulder.

                        CARL
             Hold it.

     They both look out at the front lawn, Grimsrud
     expressionless, Carl smiling.

     With muffled cries, the hooded woman lurches across the
     unbroken snow, staggering this way and that, stumbling on
     the uneven terrain.

     She stops, stands still, her hooded head swaying.
                                                                46.


     She lurches out in an arbitrary direction. Going downhill,
     she reels, staggers, and falls face-first into the snow,
     weeping.

                       CARL
             Ha ha ha ha ha ha! Jesus!

     Grimsrud, still expressionless, breaks away from Carl's
     restraining hand to retrieve her.


38   INT. BRAINERD POLICE HEADQUARTERS                                38

     We track behind Marge as she makes her way across the
     floor, greeting various officers. She holds a small half-
     full paper sack.

     Beyond her we see a small glassed-in cubicle. Norm sits at
     the desk inside with a box lunch spread out in front of
     him.

     There is lettering on the cubicle's glass door: BRAINERD
     PD. CHIEF GUNDERSON.

     Marge enters and sits behind the desk, detaching her
     walkie-talkie from her utility belt to accommodate the
     seat.

                       MARGE
             Hiya, hon.

     She slides the paper sack toward him.

                       NORM
             Brought ya some lunch, Margie.
             What're those, night crawlers?

     He looks inside.

     The bottom of the sack is full of fat, crawling earthworms.

                        MARGE
             Yah.

                       NORM
             Thanks, hon.

                       MARGE
             You bet. Thanks for lunch. What do
             we got here, Arbie's?

                        NORM
             Uh-huh.
                                              47.


She starts eating.

                  MARGE
        ... How's the paintin' goin'?

                  NORM
        Pretty good. Found out the Hautmans
        are entering a painting this year.

                  MARGE
        Aw, hon, you're better'n them.

                  NORM
        They're real good.

                  MARGE
        They're good, Norm, but you're
        better'n them.

                  NORM
        Yah, ya think?

He leans over and kisses her.

                  MARGE
        Ah, ya got Arbie's all o'er me.

Lou enters.

                  LOU
        Hiya, Norm, how's the paintin'
        goin'?

                  NORM
        Not too bad. You know.

                  MARGE
        How we doin' on that vehicle?

                  LOU
        No motels registered any tan Ciera
        last night. But the night before,
        two men checked into the Blue Ox
        registering a Ciera and leavin' the
        tag space blank.

                  MARGE
        Geez, that's a good lead. The Blue
        Ox, that's that trucker's joint out
        there on I-35?

                     LOU
                                                                48.


             Yah. Owner was on the desk then,
             said these two guys had company.

                          MARGE
             Oh, yah?


39   EXT. STRIPPER CLUB                                               39

     Marge's prowler is parked in an otherwise empty lot. Snow
     drifts down.


40   INT. STRIPPER CLUB                                               40

     Marge sits talking with two young women at one end of an
     elevated dance platform. The club, not yet open for
     business, is deserted.

                       MARGE
             Where you girls from?

                          HOOKER ONE
             Chaska.

                       HOOKER TWO
             LeSeure. But I went to high school
             in White Bear Lake.

                       MARGE
             Okay, I want you to tell me what
             these fellas looked like.

                       HOOKER ONE
             Well, the little guy, he was kinda
             funny-looking.

                       MARGE
             In what way?

                       HOOKER ONE
             I dunno. Just funny-looking.

                       MARGE
             Can you be any more specific?

                       HOOKER ONE
             I couldn't really say. He wasn't
             circumcised.

                       MARGE
             Was he funny-looking apart from
             that?
                                      49.


           HOOKER ONE
Yah.

          MARGE
So you were having sex with the
little fella, then?

           HOOKER ONE
Uh-huh.

          MARGE
Is there anything else you can tell
me about him?

          HOOKER ONE
No. Like I say, he was funny-
looking. More'n most people even.

          MARGE
And what about the other fella?

          HOOKER TWO
He was a little older. Looked like
the Marlboro man.

           MARGE
Yah?

          HOOKER TWO
Yah. Maybe I'm sayin' that cause he
smoked Marlboros.

           MARGE
Uh-huh.

          HOOKER TWO
A subconscious-type thing.

          MARGE
Yah, that can happen.

           HOOKER TWO
Yah.

          HOOKER ONE
They said they were goin' to the
Twin Cities?

           MARGE
Oh, yah?

           HOOKER TWO
Yah.
                                                                50.


                       HOOKER ONE
             Yah. Is that useful to ya?

                       MARGE
             Oh, you bet, yah.


41   EXT. LAKESIDE CABIN                                              41

     It is now dusk. The brown Ciera with dealer plates still
     sits in the drive.


42   INT. CABIN                                                       42

     We track in on Jean Lundegaard, who sits tied in a chair
     with the black hood still over her head. As we track in, we
     hear inarticulate cursing, intermittent banging and loud
     static.

     We track in on Gaear Grimsrud, who sits smoking a cigarette
     and expressionlessly gazing offscreen.

     We track in on Carl Showalter, who stands over an old
     black-and-white television. It plays nothing but snow. Carl
     is banging on it as he mutters:

                       CARL
             ...days ... be here for days with a
             - DAMMIT! - a goddamn mute ...
             nothin' to do ... and the fucking -
             DAMMIT!...

     Each "dammit" brings a pound of his fist on the TV.

                       CARL
             ... TV doesn't even ... plug me in,
             man... Gimmee a - DAMMIT! -
             signal... Plug me into the ozone,
             baby... Plug me into the ozone -
             FUCK!...

     With one last bang we cut:

     BACK TO THE TELEVISION SET

     In extreme close-up an insect is lugging a worm.

                       TV VOICE-OVER
             The bark beetle carries the worm to
             the nest ... where it will feed its
             young for up to six weeks...
                                                               51.


     A pull back from the screen reveals that we are in Marge's
     house.

     Marge and Norm are watching television in bed. From the TV
     we hear insects chirring.

     After a long beat, silence except for the TV, Marge
     murmurs, still looking at the set:

                          MARGE
                ... Well, I'm turnin' in, Norm.

     Also looking at the TV:

                          NORM
                ... Oh, yah?

     Marge rolls over and Norm continues to watch.

     We hold.

     BLACK

     Hold.

     A snowflake drops through the black.

     Another flake.

     It starts snowing.


43   EXT. BRAINERD MAIN STREET                                       43

     The lone traffic light blinks slowly, steadily, red. Snow
     sifts down. There is no other movement.

     PAUL BUNYAN

     We are looking up at the bottom-lit statue. Snow falls.

     HIGH SHOT OF MARGE'S HOUSE

     Snow drops away.

     HIGH SHOT IN MARGE'S BEDROOM

     The bedroom is dark. Norm is snoring.

     The phone rings.

     Marge gropes in the dark.
                                                          52.


                  MARGE
        Hello?

                  VOICE
        Yah, is this Marge?

                  MARGE
        Yah?

                  VOICE
        Margie Olmstead?

                  MARGE
        ... Well, yah. Who's this?

                  VOICE
        This is Mike Yanagita. Ya know -
        Mike Yanagita. Remember me?

                  MARGE
        ... Mike Yanagita!

                  MIKE
        Yah!

Marge props herself up next to the still-sleeping Norm.

                  MARGE
        Yah, yah, course I remember. How
        are ya? What time is it?

                  MIKE
        Oh, geez. It's quarter to eleven. I
        hope I dint wake you.

                  MARGE
        No, that's okay.

                  MIKE
        Yah, I'm down in the Twin Cities
        and I was just watching on TV about
        these shootings up in Brainderd,
        and I saw you on the news there.

                  MARGE
        Yah.

                  MIKE
        I thought, geez, is that Margie
        Olmstead? I can't believe it!

                  MARGE
        Yah, that's me.
                                                             53.


                       MIKE
             Well, how the heck are ya?

                       MARGE
             Okay, ya know. Okay.

                       MIKE
             Yah?

                       MARGE
             Yah - how are you doon?

                       MIKE
             Oh, pretty good.

                       MARGE
             Heck, it's been such a long time,
             Mike. It's great to hear from ya.

                       MIKE
             Yah... Yah, yah. Geeze, Margie!


44   INT. GUSTAFSON OLDS GARAGE                                    44

     Jerry is on the sales floor, showing a customer a vehicle.

                       JERRY
             Yah, ya got yer, this loaded here,
             this has yer independent, uh, yer
             slipped differential, uh, yer rack-
             and-pinion steering, yer alarm and
             radar, and I can give it to ya with
             a heck of a sealant, this TruCoat
             stuff, it'll keep the salt off -

                       CUSTOMER
             Yah, I don't need no sealant
             though.

                       JERRY
             Yah, you don't need that. Now were
             you thinking of financing here? You
             oughta be aware a this GMAC plan
             they have now, it's really super -

                       ANOTHER SALESMAN
             Jerry, ya got a call here.

                       JERRY
             Yah, okay.
                                                     54.


45   INT. JERRY'S CUBICLE                                  45

     He sits in and picks up his phone.

                         JERRY
               Jerry Lundegaard.

                         VOICE
               All right, Jerry, you got this
               phone to yourself?

                         JERRY
               Well ... yah.

                         VOICE
               Know who this is?

                         JERRY
               Well, yah, I got an idea. How's
               that Ciera workin' out for ya?

                         VOICE
               Circumstances have changed, Jerry.

                         JERRY
               Well, what do ya mean?

                         VOICE
               Things have changed. Circumstances,
               Jerry. Beyond the, uh ... acts of
               God, force majeure...

                         JERRY
               What the - how's Jean?

     A beat.

                         CARL
               ... Who's Jean?

                         JERRY
               My wife! What the - how's -

                         CARL
               Oh, Jean's okay. But there's three
               people up in Brainerd who aren't so
               okay, I'll tell ya that.

                         JERRY
               What the heck're you talkin' about?
               Let's just finish up this deal here
               -
                                                 55.


                  CARL
        Blood has been shed, Jerry.

Jerry sits dumbly. The voice solemnly repeats:

                  CARL
        ... Blood has been shed.

                  JERRY
        What the heck d'ya mean?

                  CARL
        Three people. In Brainerd.

                    JERRY
        Oh, geez.

                  CARL
        That's right. And we need more
        money.

                  JERRY
        The heck d'ya mean? What a you guys
        got yourself mixed up in?

                  CARL
        We need more -

                  JERRY
        This was s'posed to be a no-rough -
        stuff-type deal -

                  CARL
        DON'T EVER INTERRUPT ME, JERRY!
        JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP!

                  JERRY
        Well, I'm sorry, but I just - I -

                  CARL
        Look. I'm not gonna debate you,
        Jerry. The price is now the whole
        amount. We want the entire eighty
        thousand.

                  JERRY
        Oh, for Chrissakes here -

                  CARL
        Blood has been shed. We've incurred
        risks, Jerry. I'm coming into town
        tomorrow. Have the money ready.
                                                          56.


                   JERRY
         Now we had a deal here! A deal's a
         deal!

                   CARL
         IS IT, JERRY? You ask those three
         pour souls up in Brainerd if a
         deal's a deal! Go ahead, ask 'em!

                   JERRY
         ... The heck d'ya mean?

                   CARL
         I'll see you tomorrow.

Click.

Jerry slams down the phone, which immediately rings. He
angrily snatches it up.

                  JERRY
         Yah!

                   VOICE
         Jerome Lundegaard?

                  JERRY
         Yah!

                   VOICE
         This is Reilly Deifenbach at GMAC.
         Sir, I have not yet recieved those
         vehicle IDs you promised me.

                   JERRY
         Yah! I ... those are in the mail.

                   VOICE
         Mr. Lundegaard, that very well may
         be. I must inform you, however,
         that absent the reciept of those
         numbers by tomorrow afternoon, I
         will have to refer this matter to
         our legal department.

                  JERRY
         Yah.

                   VOICE
         My patience is at an end.

                  JERRY
         Yah.
                                                          57.


                  VOICE
        Good day, sir.

                   JERRY
        ... Yah.

WIDE ON THE CUBICLE

We are looking at Jerry's cubicle from across the showroom.

Noise muted by distance, we watch Jerry slam down the
reciever, rise to his feet, fling the phone to the floor,
raise his desk blotter high over his head with pens and
pencils rolling off it and slam it onto his desktop.

He stands for a moment, hands on hips, glaring.

He stoops and picks up the phone, places it back on the
desktop, starts picking up the pens and pencils.

TRACK

On steam-table bins of food, each identified by a plaque:
BEEF STROGANOFF, SWEDISH MEATBALLS, BROILED TORSK, CHICKEN
FLORENTINE.

A complementary track shows two rays being pushed along a
buffet line, piled high with many foods.

MARGE AND NORM AT A TABLE

They sit next to each other at a long cafeteria-style
Formica table, silently eating.

A hip with a hissing walkie-talkie enters frame.

                  GARY
        Hiya, Norm. How ya doin', Margie?
        How's the fricassee?

                  MARGE
        Pretty darn good, ya want some?

                  GARY
        No, I gotta - hey, Norm, I thought
        you were goin' fishin' up at Mile
        Lacs?

                  NORM
        Yah, after lunch.

He goes back to his food.
                                                             58.


                       MARGE
             Whatcha got there?

     Gary hands her a flimsy. Marge takes it with one hand and
     looks, her other hand frozen with a forkful of food.

                       GARY
             The numbers y'asked for, calls made
             from the lobby pay phone at the
             Blue Ox. Two to Minneapolis that
             night.

                       MARGE
             Mm.

                       GARY
             First one's a trucking company,
             second one's a private residence. A
             Shep Proudfoot.

                       MARGE
             Uh-huh... A what?

                       GARY
             Shep Proudfoot. That's a name.

                       MARGE
             Uh-huh.

                       GARY
             Yah.

                       MARGE
             ... Yah, okay, I think I'll drive
             down there, then.

                       GARY
             Oh, yah? Twin Cities?

     Norm, who has been eating steadily throughout, looks over
     at Marge with mild interest. He stares for a beat as he
     finishes chewing, and them swallows and says:

                       NORM
             ... Oh, yah?


46   INT. KITCHEN OF LUNDEGAARD HOUSE                              46

     Jerry, Wade, and Stan Grossman sit around the kitchen
     table.
                                                         59.


It is night. The scene is harshly top lit by a hanging
fixture. On the table are the remains of coffee and a
cinnamon filbert ring.

                  WADE
        Dammit! I wanna be a part a this
        thing!

                  JERRY
        No, Wade! They were real clear!
        They said they'd call tomorrow,
        with instructions, and it's gonna
        be delivered by me alone!

                  WADE
        It's my money, I'll deliver it -
        what do they care?

                  STAN
        Wade's got a point there. I'll
        handle the call if you want, Jerry.

                  JERRY
        No, no. See - they, no, see, they
        only deal with me. Ya feel this,
        this nervousness on the phone
        there, they're very - these guys're
        dangerous -

                  WADE
        All the more reason! I don't want
        you - with all due respect, Jerry -
        I don't want you mucking this up.

                  JERRY
        The heck d'ya mean?

                  WADE
        They want my money, they can deal
        with me. Otherwise I'm goin' to a
        professional.

He points at a briefcase.

                  WADE
        ... There's a million dollars here!

                    JERRY
        No, see -

                    WADE
                                                   60.


             Look, Jerry, you're not sellin' me
             a damn car. It's my show here.
             That's that.

                       STAN
             It's the way we prefer to handle
             it, Jerry.


47   INT. THE DOWNTOWN RADISSON HOTEL                    47

     Marge is at the reception desk.

                       MARGE
             How ya doin'?

                       CLERK
             Real good. How're you today, ma'am?

                       MARGE
             Real good. I'm Mrs. Gunderson, I
             have a reservation.

     The clerk types into a computer console.

                       CLERK
             You sure do, Mrs. Gunderson.

                       MARGE
             Is there a phone down here, ya
             think?


48   INT. LOBBY CORNER                                   48

     Marge is on a public phone.

                       MARGE
             ... Detective Sibert? Yah, this is
             Marge Gunderson from up Brainerd,
             we spoke - Yah. Well, actually I'm
             in town here. I had to do a few
             things in the Twin Cities, so I
             thought I'd check in with ya about
             that USIF search on Shep
             Proudfoot... Oh, yah?... Well,
             maybe I'll go visit with him if I
             have the... No, I can find that...
             Well, thanks a bunch. Say, d'ya
             happen to know a good place for
             lunch in the downtown area?... Yah,
             the Radisson... Oh, yah? Is it
             reasonable?
                                                              61.


     A GREEN FREEWAY SIGN

     Through a windshield we see a sign for the MINNEAPOLIS
     INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT.


49   EXT. ROOFTOP PARKING LOT                                       49

     The brown Ciera enters and drives lazy S-curves around the
     few snow-covered cars parked on the roof of the lot.

     It stops by one car and Carl emerges. He quickly scans the
     lot, then kneels in the snow at the back of the parked car
     and starts unscrewing its license plate.


50   EXT. BOOTH                                                     50

     Carl pulls up and hands the attendant his ticket.

                       CARL
             Yeah, I decided not to park here.

     The attendant frowns uncomprehendingly at the ticket.

                       ATTENDANT
             ... What do you mean, you decided
             not to park here?

                       CARL
             Yeah, I just came in. I decided not
             to park here.

     The attendant is still puzzled.

                       ATTENDANT
             You, uh... I'm sorry, sir, but -

                       CARL
             I decided not to - I'm, uh, not
             taking the trip as it turns out.

                       ATTENDANT
             I'm sorry, sir, we do have to
             charge you the four dollars.

                       CARL
             I just pulled in here. I just
             fucking pulled in here!

                       ATTENDANT
                                                              62.


             Well, see, there's a minimum charge
             of four dollars. Long-term parking
             charges by the day.

     A car behind beeps. Carl glances back, starts digging for
     money.

                       CARL
             I guess you think, ya know, you're
             an authority figure. With that
             stupid fucking uniform. Huh, buddy?

     The attendant doesn't say anything.

                       CARL
             ... King Clip-on Tie here. Big
             fucking man.

     He is peeling off one dollar bills.

                       CARL
             ... You know, these are the limits
             of your life, man. Ruler of your
             little fucking gate here. There's
             your four dollars. You pathetic
             piece of shit.


51   INT. GUSTAFSON OLDS GARAGE                                     51

     Jerry is staring up, mouth agape, at the underside of a car
     on a hydraulic lift. Bewildered, he looks about, then asks
     a mechanic passing by, his voice raised over the din of the
     shop.

                       JERRY
             Where's Shep?

     The mechanic points.

                       MECHANIC
             Talkin' to a cop.

     Jerry looks.

                        JERRY
             ... Cop?

     Marge and Shep face each other at the other end of the
     floor in a grimy and cluttered glassed-in cubicle.

                       MECHANIC
             Said she was a policewoman.
                                              63.


Marge and Shep silently talk.

Jerry stares, swallows.

INSIDE THE CUBICLE

                  MARGE
        - Wednesday night?

Shep is shaking his head.

                     SHEP
        Nope.

                  MARGE
        Well, you do reside their at 1425
        Fremont Terrace?

                     SHEP
        Yep.

                  MARGE
        Anyone else residing there?

                     SHEP
        Nope.

                  MARGE
        Well, Mr. Proudfoot, this call came
        in past three in the morning. It's
        just hard for me to believe you
        can't remember anyone calling.

Shep says nothing.

                  MARGE
        ... Now, I know you've had some
        problems, struggling with the
        narcotics, some other
        entanglements, currently on parole
        -

                     SHEP
        So?

                  MARGE
        Well, associating with criminals,
        if you're the one they talked to,
        that right there would be a
        violation of your parole and would
        end with you back in Stillwater.

                     SHEP
                                                                64.


             Uh-huh.

                       MARGE
             Now, I saw some rough stuff on your
             priors, but nothing in the nature
             of a homicide...

     Shep stares at her.

                       MARGE
             ... I know you don't want to be an
             accessory to something like that.

                         SHEP
             Nope.

                       MARGE
             So you think you might remember who
             those folks were who called ya?


52   INT. JERRY'S OFFICE                                              52

     Jerry is worriedly pacing behind his desk. At a noise he
     looks up.

     Marge has stuck her head in the door.

                       MARGE
             Mr. Lundegaard?

                         JERRY
             Huh? Yah?

                       MARGE
             I wonder if I could take just a
             minute of your time here -

                       JERRY
             What... What is it all about?

                       MARGE
             Huh? Do you mind if I sit down -
             I'm carrying quite a load here.

     Marge plops into the chair opposite him.

                       MARGE
             ... You're the owner here, Mr.
             Lundegaard?

                       JERRY
             Naw, I... Executive Sales Manager.
                                                        65.


                  MARGE
        Well, you can help me. My name's
        Marge Gunderson -

                  JERRY
        My father-in-law, he's the owner.

                  MARGE
        Uh-huh. Well, I'm a police officer
        from up Brainerd investigating some
        malfeasance and I was just
        wondering if you've had any new
        vehicles stolen off the lot in the
        past couple of weeks - specifically
        a tan Cutlass Ciera?

Jerry stares at her, his mouth open.

                  MARGE
        ... Mr. Lundegaard?

                  JERRY
        ... Brainerd?

                  MARGE
        Yah. Yah. Home a Paul Bunyan and
        Babe the Blue Ox.

                  JERRY
        ... Babe the Blue Ox?

                  MARGE
        Yah, ya know we've got the big
        statue there. So you haven't had
        any vehicles go missing, then?

                  JERRY
        No. No, ma'am.

                  MARGE
        Okey-dokey, thanks a bunch. I'll
        let you get back to your paperwork,
        then.

As Marge rises, Jerry looks blankly down at the papers on
the desk in front of him.

                  JERRY
        ... Yah, okay.

He looks up at Marge's retreating back. He looks back down
at the papers. He looks over at the phone.
                                                                66.


     he picks up the phone and dials four digits.

                       JERRY
             ... Yah, gimmee Shep... The heck
             d'ya mean?... Well, where'd he go?
             It's only... No, I don't need a
             mechanic - oh, geez - I gotta talk
             to a friend of his, so, uh ... have
             him, uh ... oh, geez...


53   INT. HOTEL BAR                                                   53

     Marge enters. She looks around the bar, a rather
     characterless, lowlit meeting place for business people.

                       VOICE
             Marge?

     It is a bald, paunching man of about Marge's age, rising
     from a booth halfway back. His features are broad,
     friendly, Asian-American.

                       MARGE
             Mike!

     He approaches somewhat carefully, as if on his second
     drink.

     They hug and head back toward the booth.

                       MIKE
             Geez! You look great!

                       MARGE
             Yah - easy there - you do too! I'm
             expecting, ya know.

                       MIKE
             I see that! That's great!

     A waitress meets them at the table.

                       MIKE
             ... What can I get ya?

                       MARGE
             Just a Diet Coke.

     Again she glances about.

                       MARGE
             ... This is a nice place.
                                                           67.


                  MIKE
        Yah, ya know it's the Radisson, so
        it's pretty good.

                  MARGE
        You're livin' in Edina, then?

                  MIKE
        Oh, yah, couple years now. It's
        actually Eden Prarie - that school
        district. So Chief Gunderson, then!
        So ya went and married Norm Son-of-
        a-Gunderson!

                  MARGE
        Oh, yah, a long time ago.

                  MIKE
        Great. What brings ya down - are ya
        down here on that homicide - if
        you're allowed, ya know, to discuss
        that?

                  MARGE
        Oh, yah, but there's not a heckuva
        lot to discuss. What about you,
        Mike? Are you married - you have
        kids?

                  MIKE
        Well, yah, I was married. I was
        married to - You mind if I sit over
        here?

He is sliding out of his side of the booth and easing in
next to Marge.

                  MIKE
        ... I was married to Linda Cooksey
        -

                  MARGE
        No, I - Mike - wyncha sit over
        there, I'd prefer that.

                  MIKE
        Huh? Oh, okay, I'm sorry.

                  MARGE
        No, just so I can see ya, ya know.
        Don't have to turn my neck.

                  MIKE
                                      68.


Oh, sure, I understand, I didn't
mean to -

          MARGE
No, no, that's fine.

          MIKE
Yah, sorry, so I was married to
Linda Cooksey - ya remember Linda?
She was a year behind us.

          MARGE
I think I remember Linda, yah. She
was - yah. So things didn't work
out, huh?

          MIKE
And then I, and then I been workin'
for Honeywell for a few years now.

          MARGE
Well, they're a good outfit.

          MIKE
Yah, if you're an engineer, yah,
you could do a lot worse. Of
course, it's not, uh, it's nothin'
like your achievement.

          MARGE
It sounds like you're doin' really
super.

          MIKE
Yah, well, I, uh ... it's not that
it didn't work out - Linda passed
away. She, uh...

          MARGE
I'm sorry.

          MIKE
Yah, I, uh... She had leukemia, you
know...

          MARGE
No, I didn't...

          MIKE
It was a tough, uh ... it was a
long - She fought real hard,
Marge...
                                              69.


                  MARGE
        I'm sorry, Mike.

                  MIKE
        Oh, ya know, that's, uh - what can
        I say?...

He holds up his drink.

                  MIKE
        ... Better times, huh?

Marge clinks it.

                  MARGE
        Better times.

                  MIKE
        I was so... I been so ... and then
        I saw you on TV, and I remembered,
        ya know... I always liked you...

                  MARGE
        Well, I always liked you, Mike.

                  MIKE
        I always liked ya so much...

                  MARGE
        It's okay, Mike - Should we get
        together another time, ya think?

                  MIKE
        No - I'm sorry! It's just - I been
        so lonely - then I saw you, and...

He is weeping.

                  MIKE
        ... I'm sorry... I shouldn't a done
        this... I thought we'd have a
        really terrific time, and now
        I've...

                  MARGE
        It's okay...

                  MIKE
        You were such a super lady ... and
        then I... I been so lonely...

                  MARGE
        It's okay, Mike...
                                                                70.


54   INT. CARLTON CELEBRITY ROOM                                      54

     Carl Showalter is sitting at a small table with a tarty-
     looking blonde in a low-cut gown. Each holds a drink.

                       CARL
             Just in town on business. Just in
             and out. Ha ha! A little of the old
             in-and-out!

                       WOMAN
             Wuddya do?

     Carl looks around.

                       CARL
             Have ya been to the Celebrity Room
             before? With other, uh, clients?

                       WOMAN
             I don't think so. It's nice.

                       CARL
             Yeah, well, it depends on the
             artist. You know, Jose Feliciano,
             ya got no complaints. Waiter!

     The reverse shows a disappearing waiter and the backs of
     many, many people sitting at tables between us and the very
     distant stage. Jose Feliciano, very small, performs on a
     spotlight stool. The acoustics are poor.

     Carl grimaces.

                       CARL
             ... What is he, deaf?... So, uh,
             how long have you been with the
             escort service?

                       WOMAN
             I don't know. Few munce.

                       CARL
             Ya find the work interesting, do
             ya?

                       WOMAN
             ... What're you talking about?


55   INT. A DIRTY BEDROOM                                             55

     Carl is humping the escort.
                                                        71.


We hear the door burst open.

The escort is grabbed and flung out of bed.

                  CARL
        Shep! What the hell are you doing?
        I'm banging that girl! Shep! Jesus
        Ch -

Shep slaps him hard, forehand, backhand.

                  SHEP
        Fuck out of my house!

He hauls him up -

                  CARL
        Shep! Don't you dare fucking hit
        me, man! Don't you -

- punches him and flings him away.

Carl hits a sofa and we see his bare legs disappear as he
flips back over it.

Shep enters frame to circle the sofa and kick at Carl
behind it.

                  SHEP
        Fuck outta here. Put me back in
        Stillwater. Little fucking shit.

There is a knock at the door.

                  VOICE
        Hey! Come on in there!

Shep strides to the door, flings it open.

A man in boxer shorts stands in the doorway.

                  MAN
        C'mon, brother, it's late - Unghh!

Shep hits him twice, then grabs both of his ears and starts
banging his head against the wall.

The hooker runs by, clutching her clothes, and Shep kicks
her in the ass as she passes.

He spins and goes back into the apartment.
                                                              72.


     Carl is hopping desperately into his pants.

                       CARL
             Stay away from me, man! Hey! Smoke
             a fuckin' peace pipe, man! Don't
             you dare fuckin' - Unghh!

     After hitting him several times, Shep yanks Carl's belt out
     of his dangling pants and strangles him with it. Carl
     gurgles. Shep knees Carl repeatedly, then dumps him onto
     the floor and starts whipping him with the buckle end of
     the belt.


56   INT. CHAIN RESTAURANT PHONE BOOTH                              56

     Carl listens to the phone ring at the other end. His face
     is deeply bruised and cut.

     Finally, through the phone...

                        VOICE
             ... Yah?

                       CARL
             All right, Jerry, I'm through
             fucking around. You got the fucking
             money?


57   INT. JERRY'S KITCHEN                                           57

     Jerry is at the kitchen phone. Through the door to the
     dining room we see Wade picking up an extension.

                       JERRY
             Yah, I got the money, but, uh -

                       CARL
             Don't you fucking but me, Jerry. I
             want you with this money on the
             Dayton-Radisson parking ramp, top
             level, thirty minutes, and we'll
             wrap this up.

                       JERRY
             Yah, okay, but, uh -

                        CARL
                                                             73.


                You're there in thirty minutes or I
                find you, Jerry, and I shoot you,
                and I shoot your fucking wife, and
                I shoot all your little fucking
                children, and I shoot 'em all in
                the back of their little fucking
                heads. Got it?

                          JERRY
                ... Yah, well, you stay away from
                Scotty now -

                          CARL
                GOT IT?

                          JERRY
                Okay, real good, then.

     The line goes dead.

     A door slams offscreen.


58   EXT. HOUSE                                                    58

     Wade, briefcase in hand, gets into his Cadillac, slams the
     door and peels out.


59   INT. CAR                                                      59

     Wade's jaw works as he glares out at traffic. He mumbles to
     himself as he drives.

                          WADE
                Okay ... here's your damn money,
                now where's my daughter?... Goddamn
                punk ... where's my damn
                daughter...

     He pulls out a gun, cracks the barrel, peers in.

                          WADE
                ... You little punk.


60   INT. JERRY'S HOUSE                                            60

     Jerry sits in the foyer, trying to pull on pair of
     galoshes.

     Scotty's voice comes from upstairs:
                                                                74.


                           VOICE
                ... Dad?

                          JERRY
                It's okay, Scotty.

                          VOICE
                Where're you going?

                          JERRY
                Be back in a minute. If Stan calls
                you, just tell him I went to
                Embers. Oh, geez -

     Thunk! - his first boot goes on.

     RADISSON

     Marge sits on the bed in her hotel room, shoes off,
     massaging her feet. The phone is pressed to her ear, and
     through it, we hear ringing.

                          VOICE
                ... Hello?

                           MARGE
                Norm?


61   EXT. MILLE LACS LAKE                                             61

     It is late evening, blowing storm. A leisurely pan across
     the bleak gray expanse finds a little hut in the middle of
     the frozen lake with a pickup truck parked next to it.

                          MARGE'S VOICE
                They bitin'?


62   INT. HUT                                                         62

     Norm has a cellular phone to his ear. His feet are
     stretched out to an electric heater. The interior is bathed
     in soft orange light.

                          NORM
                Yah, okay. How's the hotel?

                          MARGE
                Oh, pretty good. They bitin'?

                           NORM
                                                              75.


             Yeah, couple a muskies. No pike
             yet. How d'you feel?

                         MARGE
             Oh, fine.

                       NORM
             Not on your feet too much?

                         MARGE
             No, no.

                       NORM
             You shouldn't be on your feet too
             much, you got weight you're not
             used too. How's the food down
             there?

                       MARGE
             Had dinner at a place called the
             King's Table. Buffet style. It was
             pretty darn good.

                       NORM
             Was it reasonable?

                       MARGE
             Yah, not too bad. So it's nice up
             there?

                       NORM
             Yah, it's good. No pike yet, but
             it's good.


63   INT. DAYTON-RADISSON RAMP                                      63

     The top, open, level. Snow blows. A car sits idling.

     Another car pulls onto the roof. It creeps over to the
     parked car and stops. It continues to idle as its door
     opens and Wade steps out, carrying the briefcase.

     The door of the other car bangs open and Carl bounces out.

                       CARL
             Who the fuck are you? Who the fuck
             are you?

                       WADE
             I got your goddamn money, you
             little punk. Now where's my
             daughter?
                                                        76.


                  CARL
        I am through fucking around! Drop
        that fucking briefcase!

                  WADE
        Where's my daughter?

                  CARL
        Fuck you, man! Where's Jerry? I
        gave SIMPLE FUCKING INSTRUCTIONS -

                  WADE
        Where's my damn daughter? No Jean,
        no money!

                  CARL
        Drop that fucking money!

                  WADE
        No Jean, no money!

                  CARL
        Is this a fucking joke here?

He pulls out a gun and fires into Wade's gut.

                  CARL
        ... Is this a fucking joke?

                  WADE
        Unghh ... oh, geez...

He is on the pavement, clutching at his gut. Snow swirls.

                  CARL
        You fucking imbeciles!

He bends down next to Wade to pick up the briefcase.

                  WADE
        Oh, for Christ ... oh, geez...

Wade brings out his gun and fires at Carl's head, close by.

                  CARL
        Oh!

Carl stumbles and falls back, and then stands up again. His
jaw is gouting blood.

                  CARL
        ... Owwmm...
                                                              77.


     One hand pressed to his jaw, he fires down at Wade several
     times. Blood streams through the hand pressed to his jaw.

                       CARL
             ... Mmmmmphnck! He fnkem shop me...

     He pockets the gun, picks up the briefcase one-handed,
     flings it into his car, gets in, peels out.


64   INT. DOWN RAMP                                                 64

     Carl screams down the ramp. He takes a corner at high speed
     and swerves, just missing Jerry in his Olds on his way to
     the top.


65   INT. JERRY'S CAR                                               65

     Jerry recovers from the near miss and continues up.

                         JERRY
             Oh, geez!

     EXIT BOOTH

     Carl squeals to a halt at the gate, still pressing his hand
     to his bleeding jaw.

                       CARL
             Ophhem ma fuchem gaphe!

                       ATTENDANT
             May I have your ticket, please?

     RAMP ROOF

     Jerry pulls to a halt next to Wade's idling Cadillac. He
     gets out and walks slowly to Wade's body, prostrate in the
     swirling snow.

                       JERRY
             Oh! Oh, geez!

     He bends down, picks Wade up by the armpits and drags him
     over to the back of the Cadillac. He drops Wade's body,
     walks to the driver's side of the car, pulls the keys and
     walks back to pop the trunk. He wrestles Wade's body into
     the trunk, slams it shut and walks back to the scene of the
     shooting.

     He kicks at the snow with his galoshed feet, trying to hide
     the fresh bloodstains.
                                                                78.


66   EXT. BOOTH                                                       66

     Jerry approaches in the Cadillac.

     The wooden gate barring the exit has been broken away. The
     booth is empty.

     Jerry eases toward the street, looking over at the booth as
     he passes.

     Inside the booth we see the awkwardly angled leg of a
     prostrate body.


67   EXT. JERRY'S HOUSE                                               67

     The car pulls into the driveway.


68   INT. FOYER                                                       68

     Jerry enters and sits on the foyer chair to take off his
     galoshes.

                          SCOTT'S VOICE
             ... Dad?

                          JERRY
             Yah.

                       SCOTT'S VOICE
             Stan Grossman called.

                       JERRY
             Yah, okay.

                          SCOTT'S VOICE
             Twice.

                          JERRY
             Okay.

                       SCOTT'S VOICE
             ... Is everything okay?

                          JERRY
             Yah.

     Thoonk - the first boot comes off.

                       SCOTT'S VOICE
             Are you calling Stan?
                                                               79.


                       JERRY
             Well... I'm goin' ta bed now.


69   INT. CARL'S CAR                                                 69

     Carl mumbles as he drives, underlit by the dim dash lights,
     one hand now holding a piece of rag to his shredded jaw.

                       CARL
             ... Fnnkn ashlzh... Fnk...

     ROAD

     Carl's car roars into frame, violently swirling the snow.

     Its red tail lights fishtail away.

                                                          FADE OUT

     HOLD IN BLACK

     HARD CUT TO: BRIGHT - LOOKING THROUGH A WINDSHIELD

     It is a starky sunny day. We are cruising down a street of
     humble lookalike houses.

     We pan right as we draw toward one house in particular. In
     its driveway a man in a hooded parka shovels snow. He
     notices the approaching car and gives its driver a wave.

     The driver is Gary, the Brainderd police officer. He gives
     a finger-to-the-head salute and pulls over.


70   EXT. OUTSIDE                                                    70

     Gary slams his door shut and the other man plants his
     shovel in the snow.

                       MAN
             How ya doin'?

                       GARY
             Mr. Mohra?

                       MAN
             Yah.

                       GARY
             Officer Olson.
                                                           80.


                  MAN
        Yah, right-o.

The two men caucus the driveway without shaking hands and
without standing particularly close. They stand stiffly,
arms down at their sides and breath streaming out of their
parka hoods. Each has an awkward leaning-away posture, head

drawn slightly back and chin tucked in, to keep his face
from protruding into the cold.

                  MAN
        ... So, I'm tendin' bar there at
        Ecklund && Swedlin's last Tuesday
        and this little guy's drinkin' and
        he says, 'So where can a guy find
        some action - I'm goin' crazy down
        there at the lake.' And I says,
        'What kinda action?' and he says,
        'Woman action, what do I look
        like,' And I says 'Well, what do I
        look like, I don't arrange that
        kinda thing,' and he says, 'I'm
        goin' crazy out there at the lake'
        and I says, 'Well, this ain't that
        kinda place.'

                  GARY
        Uh-huh.

                  MAN
        So he says, 'So I get it, so you
        think I'm some kinda jerk for
        askin',' only he doesn't use the
        word jerk.

                  GARY
        I unnerstand.

                  MAN
        And then he calls me a jerk and
        says the last guy who thought he
        was a jerk was dead now. So I don't
        say nothin' and he says, 'What do
        ya think about that?' So I says,
        'Well, that don't sound like too
        good a deal for him then.'

                  GARY
        Ya got that right.

                  MAN
                                      81.


And he says, 'Yah, that guy's dead
and I don't mean a old age.' And
then he says, 'Geez, I'm goin'
crazy out there at the lake.'

          GARY
White Bear Lake?

          MAN
Well, Ecklund && Swedlin's, that's
closer ta Moose Lake, so I made
that assumption.

           GARY
Oh sure.

          MAN
So, ya know, he's drinkin', so I
don't think a whole great deal of
it, but Mrs. Mohra heard about the
homicides out here and she thought
I should call it in, so I called it
in. End a story.

          GARY
What'd this guy look like anyways?

          MAN
Oh, he was a little guy, kinda
funny-lookin'.

          GARY
Uh-huh - in what way?

          MAN
Just a general way.

          GARY
Okay, well, thanks a bunch, Mr.
Mohra. You're right, it's probably
nothin', but thanks for callin' her
in.

          MAN
Oh sure. They say she's gonna turn
cold tomorrow.

          GARY
Yah, got a front movin' in.

          MAN
Ya got that right.
                                                                82.


     CLOSE ON CARL SHOWALTER

     In his car, now parked, one hand holding the rag pressed to
     his mangled jaw. He is staring down at something in the
     front seat next to him.

     His other hand holds open the briefcase. It has money
     inside - a lot of money.

     Carl unfreezes, takes out one of the bank-wrapped wads and
     looks at it.

                          CARL
                ... Mmmnphh.

     He paws through the money in the briefcase to get a feeling
     for the amount.

                          CARL
                ... Jeshush Shrist... Jeshush
                fuchem Shrist!

     Excited, he counts out a bundle of bills and tosses it onto
     the back seat.

     He starts to take the rag away from his chin but the layer
     pressed against his face sticks, its loose weave bound to
     his skin by clotted blood.

     He pulls very gently and winces as blood starts to flow
     again.

     He carefully tears the rag in half so that only a bit of it
     remains adhering to his jaw.


71   EXT. CAR                                                         71

     It is pulled over to the side of an untraveled road. THe
     door opens and Carl emerges with the briefcase.

     He slogs through the snow, down a gulley and up the
     embankment to a barbed-wire fence. He kneels at one of the
     fence posts and frantically digs into the snow with his
     bare hands, throws in the briefcase and covers it back up.

     He stands and tries to beat the circulation back into his
     red, frozen hands.

     He looks to the right.

     A regular line of identical fence posts stretches away
     against unblemished white.
                                                               83.


     He looks to the left.

     A regular line of identical fence posts stretches away
     against unblemished white.

     He looks at the fence post in front of him.

                         CARL
             Mmmphh...

     He looks about the snowy vastness for a marker. Finding
     none, he kicks the fence post a couple of times, failing to
     scar or tilt it, then hurriedly plants a couple of sicks up
     against the post.

     He bends down, scoops up a handful of snow, presses it
     against his wounded jaw, and lopes back to the idling car.


72   INT. HOTEL ROOM                                                 72

     Marge has a packed overnight back sitting on the unmade
     bed.

     She is ready to leave, already wearing her parka, but is on
     the phone.

                       MARGE
             No, I'm leavin' this mornin', back
             up to Brainerd.

                       VOICE
             Well, I'm sorry I won't see ya.

                       MARGE
             Mm. But ya think he's all right? I
             saw him last night and he's -

                       VOICE
             What'd he say?

                       MARGE
             Well, it was nothin' specific he
             said, it just seemd like it all hit
             him really hard, his wife dyin' -

                         VOICE
             His wife?

                         MARGE
             Linda.

                         VOICE
                                                               84.


             No.

                       MARGE
             Linda Cooksey?

                       VOICE
             No. No. No. They weren't - he, uh,
             he was bothering Linda for about,
             oh, for a good year. Really
             pestering her, wouldn't leave her
             alone.

                       MARGE
             So ... they didn't...

                       VOICE
             No. No. They never married. Mike's
             had psychiatric problems.

                       MARGE
             Oh. Oh, my.

                       VOICE
             Yah, he - he's been struggling.
             He's living with his parents now.

                         MARGE
             Oh. Geez.

                       VOICE
             Yah, Linda's fine. You should call
             her.

                       MARGE
             Geez. Well - geez. That's a
             suprise.


73   INT. MARGE'S CAR                                                73

     Marge drives, gazing out at the road.

     MARGE AT A DRIVE-THROUGH

     She leans out of her open window and yells at the order
     panel:

                         MARGE
             Hello?

     MARGE AT THE GUSTAFSON OLDS GARAGE

     She sits in the lot, eating a breakfast sandwich.
                                                             85.


74   INT. JERRY LUNDEGAARD'S OFFICE                                74

     Jerry is at his desk using a blunt pencil to enter numbers
     onto a form. Beneath the form is a piece of carbon paper
     and beneath that another form copy, which Jerry
     periodically checks. The carbon-copy form shows thick
     smudgy, illegible entries.

     Jerry hums nervously.

     Glass rattles as someone taps at his door.

     Jerry looks up and freezes, mouth hanging open, brow knit
     with worry.

     Marge sticks her head in the door.

                       MARGE
             Mr. Lundegaard? Sorry to bother you
             again. Can I come in?

     She starts to enter.

                       JERRY
             Yah, no, I'm kinda - I'm kinda busy
             -

                       MARGE
             I unnerstand. I'll keep it real
             short, then. I'm on my way out of
             town, but I was just - Do you mind
             if I sit down? I'm carrying a bit
             of a load here.

                       JERRY
             No, I -

     But she is already sitting into the chair opposite with a
     sigh of relieved weight.

                       MARGE
             Yah, it's this vehicle I asked you
             about yesterday. I was just
             wondering -

                       JERRY
             Yah, like I told ya, we haven't had
             any vehicles go missing.

                       MARGE
                                              86.


        Okay, are you sure, cause, I mean,
        how do you know? Because, see, the
        crime I'm investigating, the
        perpetrators were driving a car
        with dealer plates. And they called
        someone who works here, so it'd be
        quite a coincidence if they
        weren't, ya know, connected.

                  JERRY
        Yah, I see.

                  MARGE
        So how do you - have you done any
        kind of inventory recently?

                  JERRY
        The car's not from our lot, ma'am.

                  MARGE
        but do you know that for sure
        without -

                  JERRY
        Well, I would know. I'm the
        Executive Sales Manager.

                  MARGE
        Yah, but -

                  JERRY
        We run a pretty tight ship here.

                  MARGE
        I know, but - well, how do you
        establish that, sir? Are the cars,
        uh, counted daily or what kind of -

                  JERRY
        Ma'am, I answered your question.

There is a silent beat.

                  MARGE
        ... I'm sorry, sir?

                  JERRY
        Ma'am, I answered your question. I
        answered the darn - I'm cooperating
        here, and I...

                  MARGE
                                                          87.


        Sir, you have no call to get snippy
        with me. I'm just doin' my job
        here.

                  JERRY
        I'm not, uh, I'm not arguin' here.
        I'm cooperating... There's no, uh -
        we're doin' all we can...

He trails off into silence.

                  MARGE
        Sir, could I talk to Mr. Gustafson?

Jerry stares at her.

                  MARGE
        ... Mr. Lundegaard?

Jerry explodes:

                  JERRY
        Well, heck, if you wanna, if you
        wanna play games here! I'm workin'
        with ya on this thing, but I...

He is getting angrily off his feet.

                  JERRY
        Okay, I'll do a damned lot count!

                  MARGE
        Sir? Right now?

                  JERRY
        Sure right now! You're darned
        tootin'!

He is yanking his parka from a hook behind the opened door
and grabbing a pair of galoshes.

                  JERRY
        ... If it's so damned imporant to
        ya!

                  MARGE
        I'm sorry, sir, I -

Jerry has the parka slung over one arm and the galoshes
pinched in his hand.

                  JERRY
        Aw, what the Christ!
                                                           88.


He stamps out the door.

Marge stares.

After a long moment her stare breaks. She glances idly
around the office.

There is a framed picture facing away from her on the
desktop. She turns it to face her. It is Scotty, holding an
accordion. There is another picture of Jean.

Marge looks at it, looks around, for some reason, at the
ceiling.

She looks at a trophy shelf on the wall behind her.

She fiddles idly with a pencil. She pulls a clipboard
toward her. It holds a form from the General Motors Finance
Corporation.

She looks idly around. Her look abruptly locks.

                  MARGE
        ... Oh, for Pete's sake.

Jerry is easing his car around the near corner of the
building.

Marge's voice is flat with dismay:

                  MARGE
        ... Oh, for Pete's sake...

She grabs the phone and punches in a number.

                  MARGE
        ... For Pete's s- he's fleein' the
        interview. He's feelin' the
        interview...

Jerry makes a left turn into traffic.

                  MARGE
        ... Detective Sibert, please...

POLICE OFFICER

We are looking across a steam table at a man in blue. He
moves slowly to the right, pushing his tray along a
cafeteria line. Behind him, in the depth of the room, is an
eating area of long Formica tables at which sit a mix of
uniformed and civilian-clothed police and staff.
                                                        89.


We are listening to an offscreen woman's voice.

                  WOMAN
        Well, so far we're just saying he's
        wanted for questioning in
        connection with a triple homicide.
        Nobody at the dealship there's been
        much help guessing where he might
        go...

The woman is entering frame sliding a tray. Marge enters
behind her, sliding her own. We move laterally with them as
they slowly make their way along the line.

                  MARGE
        Uh-huh.

                  WOMAN
        We called his house; his little boy
        said he hadn't been there.

                  MARGE
        And his wife?

                  WOMAN
        She's visiting relatives in
        Florida. Now his boss, this guy
        Gustafson, he's also disappeared.
        Nobody at his office knows where he
        is.

                  MARGE
        Geez. Looks like this thing goes
        higher than we thought. You call
        his home?

                  WOMAN
        His wife's in the hospital, has
        been for a couple months. The big
        C.

                  MARGE
        Oh, my.

                  WOMAN
        And this Shep Proudfoot character,
        he's a little darling. He's now
        wanted for assault and parole
        violation. He clobbered a neighbor
        of his last night and another
        person who could be one of your
        perps, and he's at large.
                                                         90.


                  MARGE
        Boy, this thing is really ... geez.

                  WOMAN
        Well, they're all out on the wire.
        Well, you know...

                  MARGE
        Yah. Well, I just can't thank you
        enough, Detective Sibert, this
        cooperation has been outstanding.

                  DETECTIVE SIBERT
        Ah, well, we haven't had to run
        around like you. When're you due?

                  MARGE
        End a April.

                  DETECTIVE SIBERT
        Any others?

                  MARGE
        This'll be our first. We've been
        waiting a long time.

                  DETECTIVE SIBERT
        That's wonderful. Mm-mm. It'll
        change your life, a course.

                  MARGE
        Oh, yah, I know that!

                  DETECTIVE SIBERT
        They can really take over, that's
        for sure.

                  MARGE
        You have children?

Detective Sibert pulls an accordion of plastic picture
sleeves from her purse to show Marge.

                  DETECTIVE SIBERT
        I thought you'd never ask. The
        older one is Janet, she's nine, and
        the younger one is Morgan.

                  MARGE
        Oh, now he's adorable.

                  DETECTIVE SIBERT
                                                         91.


        He's three now. Course, not in that
        picture.

                  MARGE
        Oh, he's adorable.

                    DETECTIVE SIBERT
        Yah, he -

                  MARGE
        Where'd you get him that parka?

They have reached the end of the cafeteria line. With a nod
to the cashier, Detective Sibert indicates hers and Marge's
trays.

                  DETECTIVE SIBERT
        Both of these.

                  MARGE
        Oh, no, I can't let you do that.

                  DETECTIVE SIBERT
        Oh, don't be silly.

                  MARGE
        Well, okay - thank you, Detective.

                  DETECTIVE SIBERT
        Oh, don't be silly.

GAEAR GRIMSRUD

He sits eating a Swanson's TV dinner from a TV tray he has
set up in front of an easy chair.

He watches the old black-and-white TV set whose image - it
might be a game show - is still heavily ghosting and
diffused by snow. The audio crackles with interference.

Despite the impenetrability of its image, it holds
Grimsrud's complete attention.

At the sound of the front door opening, Grimsrud looks up.

Carl enters, his face suppurating and raw.

He reacts to Grimsrud's wordless look with a grotesque
laugh.

                  CARL
        You should she zhe uzher guy!
                                                        92.


He glances around.

                  CARL
        ... The fuck happen a her?

Jean sits slumped in a straight-backed chair facing the
wall. Her hooded head, resting on her chin, is motionless.

There is blood on the facing wall.

                  GRIMSRUD
        She started shrieking, you know.

                     CARL
        Jezhush.

He shakes his head.

                  CARL
        ... Well, I gotta muddy.

He is plunking down eight bank-wrapped bundles on the
table.

                  CARL
        ... All of it. All eighty gran.
        Forty for you...

He makes one pile, pockets the rest.

                  CARL
        ... Forty for me. Sho thishuzh it.
        Adiosh.

He slaps keys down on the table.

                  CARL
        ... You c'n'ave my truck. I'm
        takin' a Shiera.

                  GRIMSRUD
        We split that.

Carl looks at him.

                  CARL
        HOW THE FUCK DO WE SHPLITTA FUCKIN'
        CAR? Ya dummy! Widda fuckin'
        chainshaw?

Grimsrud looks sourly up. There is a beat. Finally:
                                                               93.


                         GRIMSRUD
               One of us pays the other for half.

                         CARL
               HOLD ON! NO FUCKIN' WAY! YOU
               FUCKIN' NOTISH ISH? I GOT FUCKIN'
               SHOT INNA FAISH! I WENT'N GOTTA
               FUCKIN' MONEY! I GET SHOT FUCKIN'
               PICKIN' IT UP! I BEEN UP FOR
               THIRTY-SHIKSH FUCKIN' HOURZH! I'M
               TAKIN' THAT FUCKIN' CAR! THAT
               FUCKERZH MINE!

     Carl waits for an argument, but only gets the steady sour
     look.

     Carl pulls out a gun.

                         CARL
               ... YOU FUCKIN' ASH-HOLE! I LISHEN
               A YOUR BULLSHIT FOR A WHOLE FUCKIN'
               WEEK!

     A beat. Carl returns Grimsrud's stare.

                         CARL
               ... Are we shquare?

     Grimsrud says nothing.

                         CARL
               ... ARE WE SHQUARE?

     A beat.

     Disgusted, Carl pockets the gun and heads for the door.

                         CARL
               ... Fuckin' ash-hole. And if you
               shee your friend Shep Proudpfut,
               tell him I'm gonna NAIL hizh
               fuckin' ash.


75   EXT. OUTSIDE                                                    75

     We are pulling Carl as he walks toward the car. Behind him
     we see the cabin door opening. Carl turns, reacting to the
     sound.

     Grimsrud is bounding out wearing mittens and a red hunter's
     cap, but no overcoat. He is holding an ax.
                                                           94.


Carl fumbles in his pocket for his gun.

Grimsrud swings overhand, burying the ax in Carl's neck.

MARGE

In her cruiser, on her two-way. Through it we hear Lou's
voice, heavily filtered:

                  VOICE
        His wife. This guy says she was
        kidnapped last Wednesday.

                  MARGE
        The day of our homicides.

                  VOICE
        Yah.

Marge is peering to one side as she drives, looking through
the bare trees that border the road on a declivity that
runs down to a large frozen lake.

                  MARGE
        And this guy is...

                  VOICE
        Lundegaard's father-in-law's
        accountant.

                  MARGE
        Gustafson's accountant.

                  VOICE
        Yah.

                  MARGE
        But we still haven't found
        Gustafson.

                  VOICE
             (crackle)
        - looking.

                  MARGE
        Sorry - didn't copy.

                  VOICE
        Still missing. We're looking.

                  MARGE
        Copy. And Lundegaard too.
                                                        95.


                  VOICE
        Yah. Where are ya, Margie?

We hear, distant but growing louder, harsh engine noise, as
of a chainsaw or lawnmower.

                  MARGE
        Oh, I'm almost back - I'm driving
        around Moose Lake.

                  VOICE
        Oh. Gary's loudmouth.

                  MARGE
        Yah, the loudmouth. So the whole
        state has it, Lundegaard and
        Gustafson?

                  VOICE
        Yah, it's over the wire, it's
        everywhere, they'll find 'em.

                  MARGE
        Copy.

                  VOICE
        We've got a -

                  MARGE
        There's the car! There's the car!

We are slowing as we approach a short driveway leading down
to a cabin. Parked in front is the brown Cutlass Ciera.

                  VOICE
        Whose car?

                  MARGE
        My car! My car! Tan Ciera!

                  VOICE
        Don't go in! Wait for back-up!

Marge is straining to look. The power-tool noise is louder
here but still muffled, its source not yet visible.

                  VOICE
        ... Chief Gunderson?

                  MARGE
        Copy. Yah, send me back-up!

                  VOICE
                                                                96.


             Yes, ma'am. Are we the closest PD?

                       MARGE
             Yah, Menominie only has Chief
             Perpich and he takes February off
             to go to Boundary Waters.


76   EXT. ROAD EXTERIOR                                               76

     Marge pulls her prowler over some distance past the cabin.

     She gets out, zips up her khaki parka and pulls up its fur-
     lined hood.

     For a moment, she stands listening to the muffled roar of
     the power tool. Then, with one curved arm half pressing
     against, half supporting her belly, she takes slow,
     gingerly steps down the slope, through the deep snow,
     through the trees angling toward the cabin and the source
     of the grinding noise.

     She slogs from tree to tree, letting each one support her
     downhill-leaning weight for a moment before slogging to the
     next.

     The roar grows louder. Marge stands panting by one tree,
     her breath vaporizing out of her snorkel hood. She squints
     down toward the cabin's back lot.

     A tall man with his back to us, wearing a red plaid quilted
     jacket and a hunting cap with earflaps, is laboring over a
     large power tool which his body blocks from view.

     Marge advances.

     The man is forcing downward something which engages the
     roaring power tool and makes harsh spluttering noises.

     The man is Grimsrud, his nose red and eyes watering from
     the cold, hatflaps pulled down over his ears. His breath
     steams as he sourly goes about his work, both hands
     pressing down a shod foot, as it if were the shaft of a
     butter churn.

     The roar is very loud.

     Marge slogs down to the next tree, panting, looking.

     Grimsrud forces more of the leg into the machine, which we
     can now see sprays small wet chunks out the bottom.

     Marge's eyes shift.
                                                        97.


A large dark form lies in the snow next to Grimsrud.

Grimsrud works on, eyes watering. With a grunt he bends
down out of frame and then re-enters holding a thick log.

He uses it to force the leg deeper into the machine.

Marge is advancing. She holds a gun extended toward
Grimsrud, who is still turned away.

Grimsrud rubs his nose with the back of his hand.

Marge closes in, grimacing.

Grimsrud's back strains as he puts his weight into the log
that pushes down into the machine.

The dark shape in the snow next to his side is the rest of
Carl Showalter's body.

Marge has drawn to within twenty yards. When she bellows it
sounds hollow and distant, her voice all but eaten up by
the roar of the power tool.

                  MARGE
        Stop! Police! Turn around and hands
        up!

Startled, Grimsrud scowls. He turns to face her.

He stares.

Marge bellows again:

                  MARGE
        ... Hands up!

Conscious of the noise, she shows with a twist of her
shoulder the armpatch insignia.

                  MARGE
        ... Police!

Grimsrud stares.

With a quick twist, he reaches back for the log, hurls it
at Marge and then starts running away.

Marge twists her body sideways, shielding herself.

No need - the heavy log travels perhaps ten yards and lands
in the snow several feet short of her.
                                                           98.


Grimsrud pants up the hill - slow going through the deep
snow.

Behind him:

                    MARGE
        ... Halt!

She fires in the air.

She lowers the gun and carefully sighs.

                    MARGE
        ... Halt!

She fires.

Grimsrud still slogs up the hill - a miss.

Marge sights again.

                    MARGE
        ... Halt!

She fires again.

Grimsrud pitches forward. He mutters in Swedish as he
reaches down to clutch at his wounded leg.

Marge walks toward him, gun trained on him as her other
hand reaches under her parka and gropes around her waist.

It comes out with a pair of handcuffs, which she opens with
a snap of the wrist.

                  MARGE
        ... All right, buddy. On your belly
        and your hands clasped behind you.

THE CRUISER

Marge drives. Grimsrud sits in the back seat, hands cuffed
behind him.

For a long moment there, he is quiet - only engine hum and
the periodic clomp of wheels on pavement seams - as Marge
grimly shakes her head.

                  MARGE
        ... So that was Mrs. Lundegaard in
        there?
                                                         99.


She glances up in the rear-view mirror.

Grimsrud, cheeks sunk, eyes hollow, looks sourly out at the
road.

Marge shakes her head.

At length:

                  MARGE
        ... I guess that was your
        accomplice in the wood chipper.

Grimsrud's head bobs with bumps on the road; otherwise he
is motionless, reactionless, scowling and gazing out.

                  MARGE
        ... And those three people in
        Brainerd.

No response.

Marge, gazing forward, seems to be talking to herself.

                  MARGE
        ... And for what? For a little bit
        of money.

We hear distant sirens.

                  MARGE
        ... There's more to life than
        money, you know.

She glances up in the rear-view mirror.

                  MARGE
        ... Don't you know that?... And
        here ya are, and it's a beautiful
        day...

Grimsrud's hollow eyes stare out.

The sirens are getting louder. Marge pulls over.

                  MARGE
        ... Well...

She leans forward to the dash to give two short signalling
WHOOPS on her siren.

She turns on her flashers.
                                                               100.


     She leans back with a creak and jangle of utilities.

     She stares forward, shakes her head. We hear the dull click
     of her flashers.

                       MARGE
             ... I just don't unnerstand it.

     Outside it is snowing. The sky, the earth, the road - all
     white.

     A squad car, gumballs spinning, punches through the white.

     It approaches in slow motion.

     An ambulance punches through after it.

     Another squad car.

                                                          FADE OUT:

                                                           FADE IN:

     HIGH AND WIDE ON A SHABBY MOTEL

     It stands next to a highway on a snowy, windslept plain.

     One or two cars dot the parking lot along with an idling
     police cruiser.


77   INT. MOTEL ROOM DOORWAY                                          77

     We are looking over the shoulders of two uniformed
     policemen who stand on either side of the door, their hands
     resting lightly on their holstered sidearms. One of them
     raps at the door.

                       COP ONE
             Mr. Anderson...

     A title fades in: OUTSIDE OF BISMARK, NORTH DAKOTA

     After a pause, muffled through the door:

                       VOICE
             ... Who?...

                       COP ONE
             Mr. Anderson, is this your burgundy
             88 out here?
                                                         101.


                  VOICE
        ... Just a sec.

                  COP ONE
        Could you open the door, please?

                  VOICE
        ... Yah. Yah, just a sec.

We hear a clatter from inside.

                  VOICE
        ... Just a sec...

One of the policemen unholsters his gun and nods to someone
whose back enters - a superintendent holding a ring of
keys.

This man turns a key in the door and then stands away.

The two policemen, guns at the ready, bang into the motel
room.

The rough hand-held camera rushes in behind them as the two
men give the room a two-handed sweep with their guns.

The room is empty.

Cop one indicates the open bathroom door.

                     COP ONE
        Dale!

The two men charge the bathroom, belts jingling, guns at
the ready, jittery camera behind them rushing to keep pace.

A man in boxer shorts is halfway out the bathroom window.

The policemen holster their guns and charge the window, and
drag Jerry Lundegaard back into the room.

His flesh quivers as he thrashes and keens in short,
piercing screams.

The cops wrestle him to the floor but his palsied thrashing
continues. The policemen struggle to restrain him.

                  COP ONE
        Call an ambulance!

                  COP TWO
        You got him okay?
                                                               102.


     Cop One pinions Jerry's arms to the floor and Jerry bursts
     into uncontrolled sobbing.

                       COP ONE
             Yah, yah, call an ambulance.

     Jerry sobs and screams.


78   INT. A BEDROOM                                                   78

     We are square on Norm, who sits in bed watching television.

     After a long beat, Marge enters frame in a nightie and
     climbs into bed, with some effort.

                       MARGE
             Oooph!

     Norm reaches for her hand as both watch the television.

     At length Norm speaks, but keeps his eyes on the TV.

                       NORM
             They announced it.

     Marge looks at him.

                       MARGE
             They announced it?

                       NORM
             Yah.

     Marge looks at him, waiting for more, but Norm's eyes stay
     fixed on the television.

                       MARGE
             ... So?

                       NORM
             Three-cent stamp.

                       MARGE
             Your mallard?

                       NORM
             Yah.

                       MARGE
             Norm, that's terrific!
                                                          103.


Norm tries to suppress a smile of pleasure.

                  NORM
        It's just the three cent.

                  MARGE
        It's terrific!

                  NORM
        Hautman's blue-winged teal got the
        twenty-nine cent. People don't much
        use the three-cent.

                  MARGE
        Oh, for Pete's - a course they do!
        Every time they raise the darned
        postage, people need the little
        stamps!

                  NORM
        Yah.

                  MARGE
        When they're stuck with a bunch a
        the old ones!

                  NORM
        Yah, I guess.

                  MARGE
        That's terrific.

Her eyes go back to the TV.

                  MARGE
        ... I'm so proud a you, Norm.

Norm murmurs:

                  NORM
        I love you, Margie.

                  MARGE
        I love you, Norm.

Both of them are watching the TV as Norm reaches out to
rest a hand on top of her stomach.

                  NORM
        ... Two more months.

Marge absently rests her own hand on top of his.
                                104.


                  MARGE
        Two more months.

Hold.

                           FADE OUT: