"THE BIG LEBOWSKI" (1998)

by

Joel and Ethan Coen

A Working Titie Films Production

THE BIG LEBOWSKI

We are floatingup a steepscrubby slope. We hear malevoices gently singing "TumblingTumbleweeds" and a deep, affable, Western-accentedvoice--Sam Elliot's, perhaps:

Voice-Over A way out west there was a fella, fella I wantto tell you about, fella by the name of JeffLebowski. At least, that was the handle his lovin' parents gave him, but he neverhad much use for it himself. This Lebowski, he calledhimself the Dude. Now, Dude, that'sa name no one would self-apply where I come from. But then, there was a lot about the Dude that didn't make a whole lot of sense to me. And a lot about where he lived, like- wise. But then again, maybe that's why I foundthe place s'durned innarestin’.

We top therise and the smoggy vastness of LosAngeles at twilight stretchesout before us.

Angels. I didn't find it to be that exactly, but I'll allow as there are somenice folks there. ‘Course, I can't say I seenLondon, and I never been to France, and Iain't never seen no queen in her damn undies asthe fella says. But I'll tell you what, after seeing Los Angeles and thisahere story I'mabout to unfold--wal, I guess I seen somethin’ever' bit as stupefyin' as ya'd see inany a those other places, and in English too, so Ican die with a smile on my face withoutfeelin’ like the good Lord gyppedme.

INTERIOR RALPH'S

It islate, the supermarket all but deserted. We are tracking in ona fortyish man in Bermuda shorts and sunglassesat the dairy case. He is the Dude. His rumpled lookand relaxed manner suggesta man in whom casualness runs deep.

He is feeling quarts of milk for coldness andexamining their expiration dates.

Voice-Over

Place back in the earlynineties--just about the time of our conflictwith Sad'm and the Eye-rackies. I onlymention it ‘causesome- times there's aman--I won't say a hee-ro, ‘cause what's a hee-ro?--butsometimes there's aman...

The Dude glances furtivelyabout and then opens a quart of milk. He sticks his nose in the spoutand sniffs.

'sometimes there'sa man who, wal, he's the man for his time'nplace, he fits right in there--and that'sthe Dude, in Los Angeles.

CHECKOUT GIRL

She waits, arms folded. A small black-and white TV next to her register shows GeorgeBush on the White House lawn with helicopter rotors spinningbehind him.

George Bush This aggressionwill not stand. . . This will not stand!

The Dude, peeking overhis shades, scribbles something at the little customer's lectern. Milk beads his mustache.

Voice-Over

Dude was certainlythat--quite possibly the laziest inLos Angeles County. .

The Dude has his Ralph'sShopper's Club card to one side and is making out a check toRalph's for sixty-nine cents.

runnin' forlaziest worldwide--but sometimes there'saman. .. sometimes there's aman. ..

EXTERIOR RALPH'S

Long shot of theglowing Ralph's. There are only two or three cars parked in thehuge lot.

Voice-Over

The Dude isa small figure walking across thevast lot. Next to him walksa Mexican carry-out boy in a red apronand cap carrying a smallbrown bag holding the quart of milk. The two men's footstepsecho in the still of the night.

After abeat of walking the Dude offhandedlypoints.

Dude It's the LeBaron.

DUDE'SHOUSE

TheDude is going up the walkway of a smallVenice bungalow court. He holds the paper sack in one handand a small leatherettesatchel in the other. He awkwardlyhugs the grocery bag against his chest as he turns a key inhis door.

INSIDE

The Dude enters and flicks on a light.

His head is grabbed from behind and tuckedinto an armpit. We track with him as he is rushed through theliving room, his arm holding the satchel flailing away fromhis body. Going into the bedroom the outflung satchel catchesa piece of doorframe and wallboard and rips through it, leavingan ovoid hole.

The Dude is propelled across the bedroomand on into a small bathroom, the satchel once again takingaway a piece of doorframe. His head is plunged intothe toilet. The paper bag hugged to his chest explodes milk as ithits the toilet rim and the satchel pulverizes tile as it crashesto the floor.

The Dude blows bubbles.

Voice We want that money, Lebowski. Bunny said you were good for it.

Hands haul the Dude out of the toilet.The Dude blubbers and gasps for air.

His head is plunged back into the toilet.

The handshaul him out again, dripping and gasping.

Dude It's uh, it's down there somewhere. Lemme take another look.

His head is plunged back in.

Voice 7 Don't fuck with us. Ifyour wife owes money to Jackie Treehorn, thatmeans you owe money to Jackie Treehorn.

The inquisitor hauls the Dude's headout one last time and flops him over so that he sits on the floor,back against the toilet. The Dude gropes back in the toiletwith one hand.

Looming over him is a strappingblond man.

Beyond in the living room a youngChinese man unzips his fly and walks over to a rug.

ChineseMan Ever thus to deadbeats,Lebowski.

He starts peeing on the rug.

The Dude's hand comes out of thetoilet bowl with his sunglasses.

Dude Oh, man. Don't do--

BlondMan You see what happens? You see what happens, Lebowski?

The Dude puts on his drippingsunglasses.

Dude Look, nobody callsme Lebowski. You got the wrong guy. I'm theDude, man.

BlondMan Your name is Lebowski. Your wife is Bunny.

_ Dude. Bunny? Look,moron.

He holds up his hands.

place look like I'm fuckingmarried? All my plants are dead!

The blond man stoopsto unzip the satchel. He pulls out a bowling ball and examinesit in the manner of a superstitious native.

Blond Man

The Dude pats at hispockets, takes out a joint and lights it.

Dude Obviouslyyou're not a golfer.

The blond man dropsthe ball which pulverizes more tile.

Blond Man Woo?

The Chineseman iszipping his fly.

Woo Yeah?

Blond Man Wasn't this guy supposed to be a millionaire?

Woo | Uh?

They both lookaround.

Fuck.

Blond Man What do you think?

Woo He looks like a fuckin' loser.

TheDude pulls his sunglasses down his nose with one fingerand peeks overthem.

Dude Hey. At least I'm housebroken.

The twomen look at each other. They turn to leave.

Woo Fuckin' waste of time. .

The blondman turns testily at the door.

Blond Man Thanks a lot, asshole.

On thedoor slam we cut to:

BOWLINGPINS

Scatteredby a strike.

Music and head credits play over variousbowling shots--pins flying,bowlers hoisting balls, balls glidingdown lanes, sliding feet,graceful releases, ball return spinningup a ball, fingers Slidinginto fingerholes, etc.

Themusic turns into boomy sourcemusic, coming from a distant jukebox,as the credits end over a clatteringstrike.

A lankyblonde man with stringy hair tiedback in a ponytail turnsfrom the strike to walk back tothe bench.

Man Hot damn, I'm throwin' rockstonight. Mark it, Dude.

We are tracking in on the circularbench towards a big man nursing a large plastic cup of Bud. He has dark worried eyes and a goatee. Hairy legs.emerge fromhis khaki shorts. He also wears a Khaki army surplus shirtwith the sleeves cut off over an Old bowling shirt. This is Walter. He squints through the smoke from his own cigarette as he adressesthe Dude at the scoring table.

The Dude, also holding a largeplastic cup of Bud, wears some of its foam on his mustache.

Walter This was a valued rug.

He elaborately clears his throat.

Dude ‘Yeahman, it really tiedthe room together--

Walter This was a valued, uh. .

Donny, the strike-scoringbowler, enters and sitsnext Walter.

Donny What tied the room together, Dude?

Walter Were you listening to the story,Donny?

Donny What--~

Walter |Were you listening to the Dude's story?

Donny I was bowling--

Walter So you have no frame of reference,Donny. You're like a child who wandersin in the middle of a movie and wants toknow--

Dude What's your point, Walter?

Walter There's no fucking reason--here'smy point, Dude--there's no fuckingreason--

Donny Yeah Walter, what's yourpoint?

Walter Huh?

Dude What's the point of--weall know who was at fault, so what the fuckare you talking about?

Huh? No! What the fuckare you talking--I'm not--we're talking aboutunchecked agression here--

Donny What the fuck is he talkingabout?

Dude My rug.

Walter Forget it, Donny. You'reout of your

element.

Dude This Chinaman who peed on my rug, I can't go give him a bill so what the fuck are you talking about?

Walter What the fuck are you talking about?! This Chinaman is not the issue! I'm talking about drawing a line in the sand, Dude. Across this line you do not, uh--and also,Dude, Chinaman is not the preferred, uh. . .Asian- American. Please.

Dude Walter, this is not a guy who builtthe rail- roads, here, this is a guy who peed onmy--

Walter What the fuck are you--

Dude Walter, he peed on my rug--

Donny He peed on the Dude's rug--

Walter YOU'RE OUT OF YOUR ELEMENT! ThisChinaman is not the issue, Dude.

Dude So who--

Walter Jeff Lebowski. Come on. Thisother Jeffrey Lebowski. The millionaire. He'sgonna be easier to find anyway than these two,uh. . these two .. . And he has thewealth, uh, the resources obviously, and thereis no reason, no FUCKING reason, whyhis wife should go out and owe money andthey pee on your rug. Am I wrong?

Dude No, but--

Walter Am I wrong!

Dude

Yeah, But--

Okay. - - That,uh.

He elaborately clearshis throat.

did it not?

Dude Fuckin'A.

Donny And thisguy peed on it.

Walter Donny! Please!

Dude Yeah, I couldfind this Lebowski guy--

- -Donny Hisname isLebowski? That's your name, Dude!

Dude Yeah, thisis the guy, this guy should compensateme for the fucking rug. I mean hiswife goes out and owes money and they pee onmy rug.

Walter . . Thaaat's right Dude; they pee on your fucking rug.

CLOSE ONA PLAQUE

We pullback from the name JEFFREY LEBOWSKI engraved insilver to reveal thatthe plaque, from Variety Clubs International,honors Lebowskias ACHIEVER OF THE YEAR.

Reflected inthe plaque we see the Dude entering the roomwith a youngman. We hear the two men talk:

Young Man And this is the study. You can see the various commendations, honorary degrees, et cetera.

Dude Yes, uh, very impressive.

YoungMan Please, feel free toinspect them.

Dude I'm not really,uh.

YoungMan Please! Please!

Dude Uh-huh.

We are panning the walls,looking at various citations and certificates unrelated tothe ones being discussed offscreen:

Young Man That's the keyto the city of Pasadena, which Mr. Lebowskiwas given two years ago in recognition ofhis various civic, uh.

Dude Uh-huh.

Young Man That's a LosAngeles Chamber of Commerce BusinessAchiever award, which is given--not necessarilygiven every year! Given only when there'sa worthy, somebody especially--

Dude Hey, is thishim with Nancy?

Young Man That is indeedMr. Lebowski with the first lady, yes,taken when--

Dude Lebowski onthe right?

Young Man Of course,Mr. Lebowski on the right, Mrs. Reagan onthe left, taken when--

Dude He's handicapped,huh?

Young Man Mr. Lebowskiis disabled, yes. And this picturewas taken when Mrs. Reagan was first

Li

lady of the nation, yes, yes?not o California.

Dude Far out.

Young Man And in fact he met privatelywith the President, though unfortunatelythere wasn't time for a photo opportunity.

Dude Nancy's pretty good.

Young Man Wonderful woman. We werevery--

Dude Are these. ..

YoungMan These are Mr. Lebowski'schildren, so to speak--

Dude Different mothers, huh?

YoungMan No, they--

Dude I guess he's pretty,uh, racially pretty cool--

YoungMan They're not his, heh-heh,they're not literally his children;they're the Little Lebowski Urban Achievers,inner-city children of promise but withoutthe--

Dude I see.

YoungMan --without the means forhigher education, so Mr. Lebowski has committedto sending all of them to college.

Dude | Jeez. Think he's gotroom for one more?

YoungMan

One--oh! Heh-heh. You neverwent to college?

Dude Well, yeah I did, but I spentmost ofmy time occupying various, um, administration buildings--

Young Man Heh-heh--

Dude --smoking thai-stick, breaking intothe ROTC--

Young Man Yes, heh--

Dude --and bowling. I'11 tellyou the truth, Brandt, I don't remembermost of it.--Jeez! Fuck me!

Our continuing track and pan havebrought us onto a framed Life Magazine cover which is headlinedARE YOU A LEBOWSKI ACHIEVER? Oddly, the Dude's sunglassed face ison it; we realize that, under the magazine's logo andheadline, the display is mirrored.

We hear the door open and thewhine of a motor. The Dude, wearing shorts and a bowling shirt,turns to look.

So does Brandt, the youngman we've been listening to. He wears a suit and has his hands clasped infront of his groin.

Entering the room is a fat sixtyishman in a motorized wheelchair--Jeff£Lebowski.

Lebowski Okay Sir, you're a Lebowski,I'm a Lebowski, that's terrific, I'mvery busy so what can I do for you?

He wheels himself behind a desk. The Dude sits facing him as Brandt withdraws.

Dude Well sir, it's thisrug I have, really tied the room together-

Lebowski You told Brandt on thephone, he told me. So where do I fit in?

i3

Dude Well they were looking foryou, these two guys, they were tryingto--

Lebowski I'll say it again, allright? You told Brandt. He toldme. I know what happened. Yes? Yes?

Dude So you know theywere trying to piss on your rug--

Lebowski Did I urinate onyour rug?

Dude You mean, didyou personally come and pee on my--

Lebowski Hello! Do you speakEnglish? Parla usted Inglese? I'll sayit again. Did I urinate on your rug?

Dude Well no, like Isaid, Woo peed on the rug--

Lebowski Hello! Hello! So every time--I just want to understand this,sir--every time a rug is micturatedupon in this fair city, I have to compensate the--

Dude Come on,man, I'mnot trying to scam anybody here, I'm just--

Lebowski You're justlooking for a handout like every other--areyou employed, Mr. Lebowski?

Dude Look, letme explain something. I'm not Mr. Lebowski;you're Mr.Lebowski. I'm the Dude. So that'swhat you call me. That, or Duder. HisDudeness. Or El Duderino, if, you know, you're not intothe whole brevity thing--

Lebowski Areyou employed, sir?

Dude

Employed?

Lebowski You don't go out and make a livingdressed like ghat in the middle of a weekday.

Dude Is this a--what day is this?

Lebowski But I do work, so if you don'tmind--

Dude No, look. I do mind. TheDude minds. This will not stand, ya know, thiswill not stand, man. I mean, if your wifeowes--

Lebowski My wife is not the issuehere. I hope that my wife will someday learn tolive on her allow- ance, which is ample,but if she doesn't, sir, that will be herproblem, not mine, just as your rug is your problem,just as every bum's lot in life is hisown responsibility regardless of whom he choosesto blame. I didn't blame anyone forthe loss of my legs, some chinaman in Koreatook them from me but I went out and achievedanyway. I can't solve your problems, sir,only you can.

The Dude rises.

Dude Ah fuck it.

Lebowski Sure! Fuck it! That's your answer! Tattoo it on your forehead! Your answer to everything!

The Dude is heading for the door.

Lebowski! Condolences! The bums lost!

As the Dude opens the door:

Get a job, sir! Thebums will always lose-- do you hear me, Lebowski? THE BUMS WILL ALWAYS--

The Dude shuts thedoor on the old |man'sbellowing to find himself--

HALLWAY

-~-ina high cofferedhallway. Brandt is approaching.

Brandt How was your meeting, Mr. Lebowski?

Dude Okay. The old man told me to take anyrug in the house.

WALKWAY

A housemanwith a rolled-up carpet on one shouldergoes down a stonewalk that winds through the back lawn,past a swimming pool to a garage. Brandt and the Dude follow.

Brandt Manolo will load it into your car foryou, uh, Dude.

Dude It's the LeBaron

DUDE'S POINT OF VIEW

Trackingtoward the pool. A young woman sitsfacing it, her back tous, leaning forward to paint her toenails.

Beyondher a black form floats in an inflatablechair in the pool.

Brandt Well, enjoy, and perhapswe'll see you again some time, Dude.

Dude Yeah sure, if I'm ever in theneighborhood, need to use the john. .. -

CLOSER TRACK

Arcing around the woman's foot as she finishespainting the nails emerald green.

THE DUDE

Looking.

WIDER

The young woman looks up athim. She is in her early twenties. She leans back and extendsher leg toward the Dude.

Young Woman 'Blow on them.

The Dude pulls his sunglassesdown his nose and peeks over them.

Dude

She waggles her foot andgiggles.

Young Woman G'ahead. Blow.

The Dude tentatively grabshold of her extended foot.

Dude You wantme toblow on your toes?

Young Woman Uh-huh. . . Ican't blow that far.

The Dude looks overat the pool.

Dude You surehe won't mind?

The man bobbing in theinflatable chair is passed out. He is thin, in his thirties,with long stringy blond hair. He wears black leather pantsand a black leather jacket, open, shirtless, exposing fine blondchest hair and pale skin. One arm trails off into the water;next to it, an empty whiskey bottle bobs.

Young Woman Dieterdoesn't care about anything. He's a nihilist.

The young woman smiles.

YoungWoman You're not blowing.

Brandt nervously takes the Dudeby the elbow.

Brandt . Our guest has tobe getting along, Mrs. Lebowski.

The Dude grudgingly allowshimself to be led away, Still looking at the young woman.

Dude You're Bunny?

Bunny . I'll suck your cockfor a thousand dollars.

Brandt releases a gale offorced laughter:

Brandt Ha-ha-ha-ha! Wonderful woman. Very free- spirited. We're all very fond of her.

Bunny Brandt can'twatch though. Or he has to pay a hundred.

Brandt Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! That's marvelous.

He continues to leadaway the Dude, who looks back over his shoulder:

Dude I'm just gonnafind a cash machine.

BOWLING PINS

Scattered by a strike.

THE BOWLERS

Donny callsout from the bench:

Donny - | Grasshopper Dude--They're dead in the water!!

As the Dude walksback to the scoring table he turns toanother team in blackbowling shirts--the Cavaliers--that sharesthe lane.

Dude Yourmaples, Carl.

Walter, justarriving, is carrying a leatherette satchelin one hand and a largeplastic carrier in the other.

Walter ; Way to go, Dude. If you will it, it is no dream.

Dude ; You're fucking twenty minutes late. What the fuck is that?

Walter Thecdore Herzel.

Dude Huh?

Walter State of Israel. If you willit, Dude, itis no--

Dude What the fuck're you talking about? The Carrier. What's in the fucking carrier?

Walter Huh? Oh--Cynthia's Pomeranian. Can'tleave him home alone or he eats the furniture.

Dude What the fuck are you--

Walter I'm saying, Cynthia's Pomeranian. I'm looking after it while Cynthia andMarty Ackerman are in Hawaii.

Dude You brought a fucking Pomeranianbowling?

Walter What do you mean *brought it bowling"? I Gidn't rent it shoes. I'm not buying ita fucking beer. He's not gonna takeyour fucking turn, Dude.

Helets the small yapping dog outof the carrier. It scoots aroundthe bowling table, sniffingat bowlers and wagging its tail.

Dude Hey, man, if my fuckingex-wife asked me to - take care of her fuckingdog while she and her boyfriend went toHonolula, I'd tell her to go fuck herself. Why can't she board it?

Walter First of all, Dude,you don't have an ex, secondly, it's a fuckingshow dog with fucking papers. Youcan't board it. It gets upset, its hair fallsout.

Dude Hey man--

Walter Fucking dog haspapers, Dude.--Over the line!

Smokey turns from his last rollto look at Walter.

Smokey Huh?

Walter Over the line, Smokey! I'm sorry. That's a foul.

Smokey Bullshit. Eight,Dude.

Walter Excuse me! Mark itzero. Next frame.

Smokey Bullshit. Walter!

Walter This is not Nam. This is bowling. There are rules.

Dude Come on Walter, it'sjust--it's Smokey. So his toe slippedover a little, it's just a game.

Walter This is a leaquegame. This determines who enters the nextround-robin, am I wrong?

Smokey Yeah, but--

Walter Am I wrong!?

Smokey Yeah, but I wasn'tover. Gimme the marker, Dude, I'm marking itan eight.

Walter takes out a gun.

Smokey my friend,you're entering a world of pain.

Dude Hey Walter--~-

Walter Mark that framean eight, you're entering a world of pain.

Smokey I'm not--

Walter A world of pain.

A manager in a bowling-shirtstyle uniform is running for a phone.

Smokey Look Dude, Idon't hold with this. This guy is your partner,you should--

Walter primes the gun andpoints it at his head.

Walter HAS THE WHOLEWORLD GONE CRAZY? AM I THE ONLY ONE HEREWHO GIVES A SHIT ABOUT THE RULES? MARK ITZERO!

The Pomeranian is excitedlyyapping at Walter's elbow, making high body-twisting tail-waggingleaps.

Dude Walter, they'recalling the cops, put the piece away.

Walter MARK IT ZERO!

Smokey Walter--

Walter YOUTHINK I'M FUCKING AROUND HERE? MARK IT ZERO!!

Smokey All right! There it is! It's fucking zero!

He points franticallyat the score projected above thelane.

Walter This is a league game, Smokey!

PARKINGLOT

Walterand the Dude walk to the Dude's car. The Pomeranian trots happilybehind Walter who totes the empty carrier.

Dude Walter, you can't do that. These guys're like me, they're pacificists. Smokey was a conscientious objector.

Walter You know Dude, I myself dabbledwith pacifism at one point. Not in Nam, of, course--

Dude And you know Smokey has emotionalproblems!

Walter You mean--beyond pacifism?

Dude He's fragile, man! He'svery fragile!

As the two men get into the car:

Walter Huh. I did not know that. Well, it's water under the bridge. And wedo enter the next round-robin, am I wrong?

Dude No, you're not wrong--

Walter Am I wrong!

o Dude

; You're not wrong, Walter, you're justan ' asshole.

Theywatch a squad car take a squealing turn intothe lor.

Walter Okay then. We play Quintana andO'Brien next week. They'll be pushovers.

Dude Just, just take it easy,Walter.

Walter That's your answer to everything,Dude. And let me point out--pacifism isnot--look at our current situationwith that camelfucker in Iraq--pacifism is not somethingto hide behind.

Dude Well, just take it easy,man.

Walter I'm perfectly calm,Dude.

Dude Yeah? Wavin' a gun around?!

Walter (smugly) Calmer than you are.

This irritates the Dude further.

Dude Just take it easy,man!

Walter is still smug.

Walter Calmer than you are.

DUDE'S HOUSE

A large, brilliant Persian ruglies beneath the Dude's beat-up

old furniture.

At the tablenext to the answering machine theDude is mixing kalhua, rumand milk.

Voice Dude, this is Smokey. Look, Idon't wanna be a hard-on about this, and Iknow it wasn't your fault, but I just thoughtit was fair to tell you that Gene and Iwill be submitting this to the League and askingthem to set aside the round. Or maybe forfeitit to us--

Dude Shit!

Voice --s0, like I say, just thought,you know, fair warning. Tell Walter.

A beep.

AnotherVoice Mr. Lebowski, this isBrandt at, uh, well--at Mr. Lebowski's office. Please call us as soon as is convenient.

Beep.

AnotherVoice Mr. Lebowski, this is FredDynarski with the Southern Cal BowlingLeague. I just got a, an.informal report, uh,that a uh, a member of your team, uh, WalterSobchak, drew a firearm during leagueplay--

we hear the doorbell.

THE DOOR

It swings open to reveal a short,hairy, muscular but balding middle-aged man in a black T-shirtand black cut-off jeans.

Dude Hiya Allan.

performingmy dance quintet--you know, my cycle--atCrane Jackson's Fountain Street Theatre on Tuesday night, and I'd love it if you came and gave me notes.

The Dude takesa swig of his kalhua.

Dude Sure Allan, I'll be there.

ALLAN . ,

tenth.

Dude Yeah, yeah I know. Okay.

Dude Yeah, okay.

BACKIN THE LIVING ROOM

The voice continues on the machine.

Voice --serious infraction, andexamine your Standing. Thank you.

Beep.

Voice Mr. Lebowski, Brandt again. Please do call us when you get in and I'llsend the limo. Let me assure you--I hopeyou're not avoiding this call because of therug, which, I assure you, is not a problem. We need your help and, uh--well we wouldvery much like to see you. Thank you. It'sBrandt.

TRACKING

We are pushing Brandt down the high-ceilingedhallway. Distantly, we hear a dolorous soprano. Brandt talks back over his shoulder:

Brandt

We've had some terriblenews. Mr. Lebowski is in seclusion in theWest Wing.

Dude Huh.

Brandt throws open a pairof heavy double doors. The music washes over uS aS we entera great study where Jeffrey Lebowski, a blanket thrown over hisknees, stares hauntedly into a fire, listening to Lohengrin.

Brandt announces, ambiguously:

Brandt Mr. Lebowski.

Jeffrey Lebowski wavesthe Dude in without looking around.

Lebowski

of achievement,on challenges met, competitors bested,obstacles overcome. I've accomplishedmore than most men, and without theuse of my legs. What. . . What makes aman, Mr. Lebowski?

Dude Dude.

Lebowski Huh?

Dude I don't know,sir.

Lebowski Is it. . .is it, being prepared to do the right thing? Whatever the price? Isn't that whatmakes a man?

Dude Sure. That and a pair of testicles.

Lebowski turns awayfrom the Dude with a haunted stare, lost in ‘thought.

Lebowski

The Dude thumpsat his chest pocket.

Dude

Mind if Ismoke a jay?

Lebowski

He turns back aroundand the firelight shows teartrackson his cheeks.

Dude ‘Scuseme?

Lebowski

my life. Are you surprised at my tears, sir?

Dude | Fuckin’A.

Lebowski Strong men also cry. . . Strong men also cry.

He clearshis throat.

I received this fax this morning.

Brandt hastilypulls a flimsy sheet from his clipboardand hands it to theDude.

Sent By cowards. Men who are unable to achieve on a level field of play. Men who will not sign their names. Weaklings. Bums.

The Dudeexamines the fax:

WE HAVE BUNNY. GATHER ONE MILLION DOLLARS IN UNMARKED NON-CONSECUTIVE TWENTIES. AWAIT INSTRUCTIONS. NO FUNNY STUFF.

Dude Bummer.

Lebowskilooks soulfully at the Dude.

Lebowski

Hewheels his chair around to once again gaze into thefire. Brandttugs at the Dude's shirt and points himback to the hall.

HALLWAY

® 27

The soprano's singing is onceagain faint. Brandt's voice is hushed:

Brandt Mr. Lebowski isprepared to make a generous offer to you to actas courier once we get instructions for themoney.

Dude Why me, man?

Brandt He suspects thatthe culprits might be the very people who,uh, soiled your rug, and you're in a uniqueposition to confirm or, uh, disconfirm thatsuspicion.

Dude So he thinks it'sthe carpet-pissers, huh?

Brandt Well Dude, we justdon't know.

BOWLING PINS

CRASH--scattered by a strike,in slow motion.

WIDER

Still in slow motion. We are looking across the length of the bowling alley at a tall,thin, Hispanic bowler displaying perfect form. He wears an all-in-onedacron-polyester stretch bowling outfit with a racing stripedown each side.

FAST TRACK IN

On the Dude, sitting nextto Walter in the molded plastic chairs. The Dude is staring offtowards the bowler.

Dude Fucking Quintana--thatcreep can roll, man--

BACK TO THE BOWLER

Displaying great slow-motionform as the Dude and Walter's conversation continuesover.

Walter Yeah, but he's a fuckingpervert, Dude.

Dude Huh?

Walter The man is a sex offender. With a record. Spent six months in Chinofor exposing himself to an eight-year-old.

FLASHBACK

We see Quintana, in pressed jeansand a stretchy sweater, walking up a stoop in a residentialneighborhood and ringing the bell. The voice-over conversation continues.

Dude Huh.

Walter , When he moveddown to Venice he had to go door-to-door totell everyone he's a pederast.

The door swings open anda beer-swilling middle-aged man looks Gully out at Quintana,who looks hesitantly up.

Donny What's apederast, Walter?

Walter Shut the fuckup, Donny.

PINS

scattered by a strike.

QUINTANA

wheeling and thrustinga black gloved fist into the air.. Stitched above thebreast pocket of his all-in-one is.his first name, "Jesus".

BACK TOWALTER AND THE DUDE

They havebeen joinedby Donny.

Walter Anyway. How much they offer you?

Dude Twentygrand. And of course I still keep the rug.

Walter Just formaking the hand-off?

Dude Yeah.

He slips a littleblack box out of his shirt pocket.

theseguys call--

Walter What ifit's during a game?

Dude I toldhim if it was during league play--

Donny hasbeen watching Quintana.

Donny Ifwhat's during league play?

Walter Life does not stop and start at your convenience, you miserable piece of shit.

Donny What's wrong with Walter, Dude?

Dude I figure it's easy money, it's all pretty harmless. I mean she probably kidnapped herself.

Walter Huh?

Donny What do you mean, Dude?

Dude Rug-peers did not do this. I mean look at it. Young trophy wife. Marries a guy for money but figures he isn't giving her enough. She owes money all over town--

Walter That. . . fucking. . .bitch!

Dude It's all a goddamnfake. Like Lenin said, look for theperson who will benefit. And you will, uh,you know, you'll, uh, you know what I'm tryingto say--

Donny I am theWalrus.

Walter That fuckingbitch!

Dude Yeah.

Donny I am theWalrus.

Walter Shut the fuckup, Donny! V.1. Lenin! Vladimir IlyichUlyanov!

Donny What thefuck is he talking about?

Walter That's fucking exactly what happened, Dude! That makes me fucking SICK!

Dude Yeah, well, what do you care, Walter?

Donny Yeah Dude, why is Walter so pissed off?

Walter Those rich fucks! This whole fucking thing-- I did not watch my buddies die face down in the muck so that this fucking strumpet--

Dude . I don't see any connection to Vietnam, Walter.

Walter Well, there isn't a literal connection, Dude.

Dude Walter, face it, there isn't any connection.

It's your roll.

Walter Have it yourway. The point is--

Dude It's your roll--

Walter The fuckingpoint is--

Dude it's your roll.

Voice Are you readyto be fucked, man?

They both look up.

Quintana, on hisway out, looks down at them from the lip of the lanes. Over hispolyester all-in-one he now wears a windbreaker with a racing stripeand "Jesus" stitched on the breast. He is holding a fancy black-and-redleather ball satchel (perhaps a Sylvia Wein). Behindhim stands his partner, O'Brien, a short fat Irishman with tuftedred hair.

Quintana I seeyou rolled your way into the semis. Deosmio, man. Seamus and me, we're gonna fuckyou up.

Dude Yeahwell, that's just, ya know, like, your opinion,man.

Quintana looksat Walter.

Quintana Letme tell you something, bendeco. You pull anyyour crazy shit with us, you flash a piece out on the lanes, I'll take it away fromyou and stick it up your ass and pull thefucking trigger til it goes "click*.

‘Dude Jesus.

Quintana You said it, man. Nobody fucks with the Jesus. "

Jesuswalks away. Walter nods sadly.

Walter

DUDE'S BUNGALOW

We are looking down at theDude who is prone on the rug. His eyes are closed. He wears aWalkman headset. Leaking tinnily through the headphones we can justhear an intermittent clatter.

In his outflung hand lies a casettecase labeled VENICE BEACH LEAGUE PLAYOFFS 1987.

The Dude absently licks his lipsas we faintly hear a ball rumbling down the lane. On itsimpact with the pins, the Dude opens his eyes.

He screams.

A blonde woman looms overhim. Next to her a young man in paint- Spattered denims stoops andswings something towards the camera.

The sap catches the Dude onthe chin and sends his Heath gHbuking back onto the rug.

A million stars explodeagainst a field of black.

We hear the "La-la-la-la"of The Man in Me.

The black field dissolvesinto the pattern of the rug. The rug rolls away to reveal an aerialview of the city of Los Angeles at twilight, moving belowus at great speed.

The Dude is flying over thecity, his arms thrown out in front of him, the wind whippinghis hair and billowing his bowling shirt. He looks up.

Ahead the mysteriousblonde woman wings away, riding on the Dude's rug like a shiekon a magic carpet. She is outpacing us, growing smaller.

The Dude does a coupleof lazy crawl strokes and then notices that a bowlingball has materialized in his forward hand. His bemusement turns to concernover the aerodynamic implications just as theball seemsto suddenly assume its weight, abruptly snapping his armdown, and him after it.

He is falling.

From a high anglewe seethe Dude hurtling down toward the city,

draggedby the ball.

A reverselooking up shows the Dude hurtlingtoward us out of the inkysky, his eyes wide with horror. Ledby the bowling ball, he zoomspast the camera leaving us inblack.

We hear a distant rumble, like thunder. Dull reflections materialize in the darkness. They areglints off the shiny surface of an oncoming bowling ball.

We pull back to reveal that theblackness was the inside of a ball return, and the gleaming bowlingball is being regurgitated up at us, overtaking us.

The Dude looks up, up, up at the loomingball, its mass rolling a huge shadow across his face.

The gleaming ball shows three deadblack holes rolling toward us --finger holes.

The largest--thumb--hole rolls directlyover us, engulfing us once again in black..

The black rolls away and we are spinning--spinningdown a bowling lane--our point of view that of someonetrapped in the thumbhole of the rolling ball.

We see the receding bowler spinningaway. It is the blonde woman, performing her follow-through.

Floor spins up at us and thenaway; ceiling spins up and away; the length of the alley withpins at the end; floor; ceiling; approaching pins; again and again.

We hit the pins and clatter intoblackness. We hear pins spin, hit each other and drop.

We hear an irritating, insistentbeeping.

We are close on the Dude, upsidedown. As the picture fades in the bowling noises continue,but filtered and faint. They come from the Dude's Walkman, theheadset of which is now askew, with one arm off his ear.

As the Dude opens his eyeswe spiral slowly upward to put him right side around. His head isnow resting against hardwood floor, not rug.

Dude Oh man.

He raises himself onto his elbows andmassages the red lump on his jaw. The beeper on his belt isblinking red in syne with the continuing irritating beeps.

WIDE ON THE ROOM

An end table is upset, but otherwisethe furniture is in place.

The rug is gone.

The Dude looks around. The bowlingsounds continue. The beeps continue.

The phone starts to jangle.

TRACK

We push Brandt down the familiarmarble hallway. Again there is a distant aria. Brandt throwsout a wrist to look at his watch.

Brandt They called abouteighty minutes ago. They want you to take themoney and drive north on the 405. They'll callyou on the portable phone with instructionsin about forty minutes. Oneperson only or I'd go with you. They were very clearon that: one person only. What happenedto your jaw?

Dude Oh, nothin',you know.

They have reached the littledesk outside of the big Lebowski's office; Brandt opens itsbottom drawer with a key and takes out an attache case. Hehands this to the Dude along with a cellular phone in a battery-packcarrying case..

Brandt Here's themoney, and the phone. Please, Dude, followwhatever instructions they give.

Dude Uh-huh.

Brandt Her life isin your hands.

Dude Oh,man, don'tsay that..

Brandt Mr. Lebowski askedme to repeat that: Her life is in yourhands. ,

Dude Shit.

Brandt Her life is inyour hands, Dude. And report back to us as soonas it's done.

DUDE'S CAR

We pan off the Dude, driving,to his point of view through the front windshield. Theheadlights play over Walter standing waiting in front of the storefrontof SOBCHAK SECURITY. Though he is wearing khaki shortsand shirt, the fact that he holds a battered brown briefcasemakes him look oddly like a commuter. He also holds an irreguiarshape bundled in brown wrapping paper.

The car stops in frontof him and he opens the Dude's door and hands in the briefcase.

Walter Take the ringer. I'll drive.

The Dude takes thebriefcase and slides over.

Dude The what?

Walter The ringer! The ringer, Dude! Have they calledyet?

The Dude opens thebriefcase and paws bemusedly through it as the Car starts rolling.

Dude What thehell is this?

Walter My dirty undies. Laundry, Dude. The whites.

Dude Agh--~

He closes thebriefcase.

brought your dirtyundies--

Walter Thaaaat's right,Dude. The weight. The ringer can't lookempty.

Dude Walter--what the fuckare you thinking?

Walter Well you're right,Dude, I got to thinking. I got to thinkingwhy should we settle for a measly fucking twentygrand--

Dude We? What the fuckwe? You said you just wanted to comealong--

Walter My point,Dude, is why should we settle for twenty grandwhen we can keep the entire million. Am I wrong?

Dude Yes you'rewrong. This isn't a fucking game, Walter--

Walter It is a fuckinggame. You said so yourself, Dude--shekidnapped herself--

; Dude — Yeah,but--

The phone chirps.

Dude grabs it.

Dude Dude here.

Voice (Germanaccent) - . .Who is this?

Dude Dude the Bagman. Where do you want us to go?

Voice

Dude

Shit. . .Uh, yeah, you know, me and the driver. I'mnot handling the money and driving thecar and talking on the phone all by my fucking--

Voice Shut the fuckup.

Beat.

-Hello?

Dude Yeah?

Voice Okay, listen--

Walter looks overat the Dude and bellows:

Walter Dude, are you fucking this up?

Voice Who isthat?

Dude The driver man, I told you--

Click. Dial tone.

Oh shit. Walter, he.

Walter What the fuck is going on there?

They hung up, Walter! You fucked it up! You fucked it up! Her life was in our hands!

Walter Easy, Dude.

Dude We're screwed now! We don't get shit and they're gonna kill her! We're fucked, ‘Walter!

Walter Dude, nothing is fucked. Come on. You're being very unDude. They'll call back. Look, she kidnapped her--

The phone chirps.

Dude. Nothing is fucked. These guys are . fuckingamateurs--

Dude Shutup, Walter! Don't fucking say peep when I'mdoing business here.

Walter (patronizing) Okay Dude. Have it your way.

The Dude unclips the phone from the battery pack.

The Dude glares at Walter. Into the phone:

Dude Dude here.

Voice

is no funny stuff.

Dude Yeah.

Voice So no funny stuff. Okay?

Dude Hey, just tell me where the fuckyou want us to go.

A HIGHWAY SIGN: SIMI VALLEY ROAD

It flashes by in the headlights of the roaringcar.

Dude That was the sign.

Walter wrestles the car onto the two-lane road.

Walter Yeah. So as long as we get herback, nobody's in a position to complain. And we keep the baksheesh.

Dude Terrific, Walter. But you haven't.toldme how we get her back. Where is she?

Walter That's the simple part, Dude. When we make the handoff, I grab the guy andbeat it out of him.

He looks at the Dude.

- Huh?

Dude Yeah. That's a great plan,Walter. That's fucking ingenious, if Iunderstand it correctly. That's a Swiss fuckingwatch.

; Walter . Thaaat's right, Dude. The beauty of this is its simplicity. If theplan gets too complex something always goeswrong. If there's one thing I learned in Nam--

The phone chirps.

Dude Dude.

Voice You are approaching avooden britch. When you cross it you srow zebag from ze left vindow of ze moving kar. Do not slow down. Vee vatch you.

Click. Dial tone.

Dude Fuck.

Walter What'd he say? Where's the hand-off?

Dude There is no fuckinghand-off, Walter! At a wooden bridge we throwthe money out of the car! ,

Walter Huh?

Dude

We throw the money out of the moving car!

Walter staresdumbly for a beat.

Walter

our plan.

Dude Well call them up and explain it to ‘em, Walter! Your plan is so fucking simple, I'm sure they'd fucking understand it! That's the beauty of it Walter!

Walter. Wooden bridge, huh?

Dude I'm throwing the money, Walter! We're not fucking around!

Walter The bridge is coming up! Gimme the ringer, Dude! Chop-chop!

Dude Fuck that! I love you, Walter, but sooner or later you're gonna have to face the fact that you're a goddamn moron.

Walter Okay, Dude. No time to argue. Here's the bridge--

There is the bump and new steady of the car on thebridge. The Dude is twisting around to pull themoney briefcase from the back Seat. Walter reaches one arm acrossDude's body tograb the laundry.

and here goes the ringer.

He flings it out the window.

Dude Walter!

Walter Your wheel, Dude! I'm rolling out!

Dude What the fuck?

Walter Your wheel! At fifteenem-pee-aitch I roll out! I doubleback, grab one of ‘em and beat it out of him! The uzi!

Dude

Walter points.across theseat at the paper-wrapped bundle.

Walter You didn't thinkI was rolling out of here. naked!

Dude Walter,please--

Walter has flung openhis door and is leaning halfway out over the road.

Walter Fifteen! This is it, Dude! Let's take that hill!

Walter rolls outwith his parcel, giving a loud grunt as he hits the pavement. The carswerves and lurches and the Dude, cursing, takes the wheel.

OUTSIDE

Walter tumbles ontothe shoulder and--RAT-TAT-TAT-TAT!--muzzle flashes tear open thewrapping paper.

INSIDE THE CAR

The car rocks andthe Dude wrestles with the wheel.

OUTSIDE

The car clunks andscreams around in a skid.

INSIDE

The Dude is thrownforward as the car hits something.

OUTSIDE

As the Dude struggles out holding thesatchel of money. The front of his car is crumpled into a tree. The car body sags back to the left, where the rear wheel hasbeen shot out.

Walter is just rising from the groundmassaging an injured knee.

The Dude runs up the road toward thebridge, frantically waving the satchel in the air.

Dude WE HAVE IT!! WE HAVE IT!!

There is a distant engine roar. A motorcycle bumps up onto the road from the ravine under thebridge and, tires squealing, skids around to speed away in the oppositedirection. It is closely followed by two more roaringmotorcycles.

- Dude WE HAVE IT!!. . .We have it!

The Dude and Walter stand in the middleof the road, watching the three red tail lights fishtailaway.

After a long staring silence:

Walter , - Ahh fuck it,let's go bowling.

BOWLING LANE

-A ball rumbles in to scatterten pins.

WALTER

He turns from the lane towhere the Dude sits in the nook of molded plastic chairs. The Dude listlessly holds the portable phone in his lap. It isringing.

Walter Aitz chaimhe, Dude. As the ex used to say.

Dude + What the fuck isthat supposed to mean? What the fuck'rewe gonna tell Lebowski?

| Walter Huh? Oh, him, yeah. Well I don't see, um-- what exactly isthe problem?

The portablephone stops ringing.

Dude Huh? The problem is--what doyou mean what's the--there's no--we didn't--they'regonna kill that poor woman--

Walter What the fuck're you talkingabout? That poor woman--that poorslut--kidnapped herself, Dude. You said soyourself--

Dude | No, Walter! I said Ithought she kidnapped herself! You're the onewho's so fucking certain--

Walter That's right, Dude, 100%certain--

Donny is trotting excitedly up.

Donny They posted the next roundof the tournament--

Walter Donny, shut the f--whendo we play?

Donny This Saturday. Quintanaand--

Walter Saturday! Well they'llhave to reschedule.

Dude Walter, what'm I gonnatell Lebowski?

Walter I told that fuck downat the leaque office-- who's in charge of scheduling?

Dude Walter--

Burkhalter.

Walter I told that krauta fuckingthousand times I don't roll on shabbas. |

Donny

It'salready posted.

Walter WELL THEY CAN FUCKING UN-POST IT!

Dude Who gives a shit, Walter? What about that poor woman? What do we tell--

Walter C'mon Dude, eventually she'll get sick of her little game and, you know, wander back--

How come you don't roll on Saturday, Walter?

Walter . I'm shomer shabbas.

Donny What's that, Walter?

Dude Yeah, and in the meantime what do I tell Lebowski?

Walter Saturday is shabbas. Jewish day of rest. Means I don't work, I don't drive a car, I _ don't fucking ride in a car, I don't handle money, I don't turn on the oven, and I sure as shit don't fucking roll!

Donny Sheesh.

Dude Walter, how--

Walter Shomer shabbas.

The Dude gets to his feet with the portable phone.

Dude That's it. I'm out of here.

Walter For Christ's sake, Dude.

Walter and Donny join the Dude as he walks out of the bowling alley.

Hell, you just tell him--well,you tell him, uh, we made the hand-off, everything went, uh, you know--

Donny Oh yeah, how'd it go?

Walter Went alright. Dude's car got a littledinged up--

Dude But Walter, we didn't make the fuckinghand- off! They didn't get the fuckingmoney and they're gonna--they're gonna--

Walter Yeah yeah, "kill that poor woman."

He waves both arms as if conducting a symphonyorchestra.

Donny Walter, if you can't ride ina car,how d'you get around on Shammas--

Walter Really, Dude, you surpriseme. They're not gonna kill shit. They'renot gonna do shit. What can they do? Fuckin'amateurs. And meanwhile, look at thebottom line. Who's sitting on a million fuckingdollars? Am I wrong? .

Dude Walter-- |

Walter Who's got a fucking millionfucking dollars parked in the trunk ofour car out here?

Dude "Our" car, Walter?

Walter And what do they got,Dude? My dirty undies. My fucking whites--Say,whereis the car?

The three bowlers, stopped at theedge of the lot, stare out at an empty parking space.

Donny

Walter Where's your car, Dude?

Dude Youdon't know, Walter? You seem to know the answer to everything else!

Walter Hmm. Well, we were in a handicapped spot. It,uh, it was probably towed.

Dude It'sbeen stolen, Walter! You fucking know it's been stolen!

Walter Well, certainly that's a possiblity, Dude--

Dude Aw, fuck it. ..

TheDude walks away across the lot. The portable phone starts ringingagain.

Donny Where you going, Dude?

oe Dude

I'm going home, Donny.

Donny Your phone's ringing, Dude.

Dude Thank you, Donny.

DUDE'S LIVING ROOM

The Dude is slumped disconsolately back in his easy chair, fingers of one hand cupped over his sunglasses. Facinghim on the couch are two uniformed policeman, one middle-aged, theother a fresh-faced rookie.

At the cut the portable phone, in the Dude's lap, is chirping. The Dude waits for the rings to end. When they do:

Dude 1972 Pontiac LeBaron.

Younger Cop Color?

Dude Green. Some brown, or,uh, rust, coloration.

Younger Cop And was there anything ofvalue in the car?

Dully:

Dude Huh? Oh. Yeah. Tapedeck. Couple of Creedence tapes. And there was a, uh. . .my briefcase.

YoungerCop In the briefcase?

Dude Papers. Just papers. You know, my papers. Business papers.

YoungerCop And what do you do, sir?

Dude I'm unemployed.

OlderCop

offer us coffee.

There is silence. Dude continuesto stare at a spot on the floor. The older cop staresat him.

nice when they offer.

At length:

Dude

Younger Cop Your rug was in thecar.

The Dude taps the floor withhis foot.

Dude - No. Here.

Younger Cop Separate incidents?

The Dude stares at thefloor.

Silence.

Older Cop

The homephone startsringing--a ring distinct from the chirp of the portable. The Dude makes no move to answer it. Finally the rings stop asan answering machine kicks on.

Dude

Dude's Voice on Machine The Dude's not in. Leave a message after the beep. It takes a minute.

Younger Cop Sometimes. I wouldn't hold out much hope for the tape deck though. Or the Creedence tapes.

Dude And the, uh, the briefcase?

Beep.

Female Voice on Machine Mr. Lebowski, I'd like to see you. Call when you get home and I'll send a car for you. My name is Maude Lebowski. I'm the woman who took the rug.

Beep. Dial tone.

Older Cop Well, I guess we can close the file on that one.

TRACKING FORWARD

We are moving through the open living area of a largedowntown L.A. loft. A huge unfinished canvas, lit by standing industrial lights, dominates one wall. The furnishings are sparegiven the Space. On the floor is the Dude's brilliant rug.

We hear a rumblelike an approaching bowling ball. The Dude, standing inthe middle of the loft, looks into themurky depths of the cavernousspace.

Somethinghuge and white hurtles towards the Dude’shead. As it roars overheadhe ducks, and spins to watch itpass.

We seethe backside of a naked woman in a sling suspendedfrom a ceilingtrack rumbling over a canvas that lieson thefloor. She is holdinga paint bucket in one hand and abrush in the other, withwhich she flicks paint down at the canvas.

The Dudeturns again as he hears running footsteps. Two young men inpaint-spattered shorts, T-shirts and sneakersreach the Slingshortly after it reaches the end of its trackand haul it back for another push.

‘ Voice I'll be with you in a minute,Mr. Lebowski.

Sherumbles by in another pass.

- . All right, we'll do theblue tomorrow. Elfranco. Pedro. Help me down.

The two men help Maude out of her sling. She is naked except for leather harness straps which ring herbreasts and wrap her thighs and give her something of a dominatrix look.

table, Mr. Lebowski?

Dude Is that what that's a pictureof?

Maude in a sense, yes. Elfranco,my robe. My art has been commended asbeing strongly vaginal. Which bothers some men. The word itself makes some men uncomfortable. Vagina.

Dude Oh yeah?

Maude Yes, they don't like hearingit and find it difficult to say. Whereaswithout batting an eye aman will refer tohis "dick"or his "rod" or his "Johnson".

Dude *Johnsen"?

Maude Thank you.

Thisto Elfranco, who has handed her a robe.

to cases. My father told me he's agreedto let you have the rug, but it was agift from me to my late mother, and sowas not his to give. Now. As for this. . . "kidnapping"--

Dude Huh?—

Maude Yes, I know about it. And Iknow that you acted as courrier. And letme tell you something: the whole thing stinksto high heaven.

Dude Right, but let me explain somethingabout that rug--

Maude Do you like sex, Mr. Lebowski?

Dude

Maude Sex. The physical act oflove. Coitus. Do you like it?

Dude I was talking aboutmy rug.

Maude You're not interested insex?

Dude

Maude I like it too. It's amale myth about feminists that we hatesex. It can be a Natural, zesty enterprise.But unfortunately there are some people--itis called satyriasis in men, nymphomaniain women--who engage in it compulsivelyand without joy.

Dude

Si

Oh, no.

Maude Yes Mr. Lebowski, theseunfortunate souls cannot love in the true senseof the word. Our mutual acquaintanceBunny is one of these.

Dude Listen, Maude, I'm sorryif your stepmother is a nympho, but I don'tsee what it has to Go with--do you have anykalhua?

Maude Take a look at this, sir.

She is aiming a remote at a projection TV.

The screen flickers to life. A title card:

JACKIE TREEHORNPRESENTS

A second card: |

KARLHUNGUS

and

BUNNYLaJOYA

in

A third card:

LOGJAMMIN'

The Dude is at the bar, abottle of kalhua frozen halfway to his glass.

From the television setwe hear a doorbell ring, and then a door opening.

On the TV screen the dooropens to reveal a sallow-faced man in blue cover-alis. It isDieter, the floater in Lebowski's pool.

Dieter Hello. Mein dizbatcher says zere iss problem mit deine kable.

Dude Shit, I knowthat guy. He's a nihilist.

Maude Andyou recognizeher, of course.

The girl answeringthe door is Bunny Lebowski.

Bunny TheTV is in here.

Dieter Ja, okay, I bring mein toolz.

Bunny This ismy friend Shari. She just came over to use the shower.

Maude (grimly) The story is ludicrous.

Dieter Mein nommen iss Karl. Is hard to verk in zese clozes--

Maude switchesoff the set.

Maude Lord. You can imagine where it goes from here.

Dude He fixes the cable?

Maude Don't be fatuous, Jeffrey. Little matter to me that this woman chose to pursue a career in pornography, nor that she has been "banging"Jackie Treehorn, to use the parlance of our times. However. I am one of two trustees of the Lebowski Foundation, the other being my father. The Foundation takes youngsters from Watts and--

Dude Shit yeah, the achievers.

Maude Little Lebowski Urban Achievers, yes, and proud we are of all of them. I asked my father about his withdrawal of a million dollars from the Foundation account and he told me about this "abduction", but I tell you it is preposterous. This compulsive

fornicator is taking my father forthe proverbial ride.

Dude Yeah, but my--

Maude I'm getting to your rug. My father and I don't get along; he doesn'tapprove of my lifestyle and, needless tosay, I don’t approve of his. Still, Ihardly wish to make my father's embezzlementa police matter, so I'm proposing that you tryto recover the money from the peopleyou delivered it to.

Dude Well--sure, I coulddo that--

Maude If you successfullydo so, I will compensate you to the tune of 10%of the recovered sum.

Dude A hundred.

Maude Thousand, yes, bonesor clams or whatever you call them.

Dude Yeah, but what about--

~-your rug, yes,well with that money you can buy any number of rugsthat don't have sentimental value forme. And I am sorry about that crackon the jaw.

The Dude fingers his jaw,where the lump from the sap has all but disappeared.

Dude Oh that's okay, Ihardly even--

Maude Here's the nameand number of a doctor who will look at it foryou. You will receive no bill. He's a goodman, and thorough.

Dude i. That's really thoughtfulbut I--

’ Maude Please seehim, Jeffrey. He's a good man, and thorough.

A LIMO

The Dude sits inback holding a White Russian, listening to the chauffeur, aman ofabout the same age from whose livery cap a ponytail emerges.

Driver --So he says,"My son can't hold a job, my daughter'smarried to a fuckin' loser, and I got arash on my ass so bad I can't hardly siddown. But you know me. I can't complain."

Through raspinglaughter:

Dude Fuckin'A, man. I got a rash. . . Fuckin' A, man. Igotta tell ya Tony. . .

He takes a sipof a freshly-mixed White Russian, which leaves milk on hismustache.

theday, I'd lost a little money, I was down in thedumps. ..

Tony Aw, forgetabout it.

Dude Yeah, man! Fuck it! I can't be worrying aboutthat shit. Life goes on!

The limo hasrolled to a stop. The Dude gets out, still holding his drink.

Tony Home sweet home, Mr. L. Who's your friend in the Volkswagon?

Dude Huh?

His eyeson the rearview mirror, Tony jerks a thumb over his shoulder.

- He followed us here.

The Dude turns to look.

HIS POV.

Halfway up the -blocka Volkswagonbug has pulled over to the curb. In the driver's seat we seea fat man's shape.

THE DUDE

He scowls.

Dude When did he--

The Dude is grabbed from behindand muscled away in a half-nelson by another uniformed chauffeur.

Second Chauffeur Into the limo, you sonofabitch. No arguments.

As he is frog-marched towardsanother limo the Dude holds his drink away from his chest andcups a hand underneath it.

Dude Fuck, man! There'sa beverage here!

The waiting limo's back door isflung open.

INSIDE

The Dude is shoved in and awkwardlytakes a seat facing the rear. The door is slammed behindhim.

Lebowski Start talking andtalk fast you lousy bum!

Brandt We've been franticallytrying to reach you, Dude.

Brandt sits catty-corner fromthe Dude; directly across from the Dude is the big Lebowski,a comforter across his knees.

Lebowski Where's my goddamnmoney, you bum?!

Dude Well we--I don't--

Lebowski They did not receivethe money, you nitwit! They did not receivethe goddamn money. HER LIFE WAS IN YOUR HANDS!

Brandt This is our concern,Dude.

Dude No, man, nothing isfucked here--

Lebowski NOTHING IS FUCKED!THE GODDAMN PLANE HAS CRASHED INTOTHE MOUTAIN!

The Dude takes a hurriedsip from his drink.

Dude C'mon man, who'reyou gonna believe? Those guys are--wedropped off the damn money--

Lebowski We?!

Dude I--the royalwe, you know, the editorial--I dropped off themoney, exactly as per--Look, I‘ve got certaininformation, certain things have come tolight, and uh, has it ever occurred toyou, man, that given the nature of all thisnew shit, that, uh, instead of running aroundblaming me, that this whole thing might’ justbe,not, you know, not just such a simple,but uh--you know?

Lebowski What inGod's holy name are you blathering about?

Dude I'll tellyou what I'm blathering about! I got information--newshit has come to light and--shit,man! She kidnapped herself! |

Lebowski staresat him, dumbstruck. The Dude is encouraged.

wife, Imean, in the parlance of our times, owesmoney all over town, including to known

pornographers--and that'scool, that's cool-- but I'm saying, sheneeds money, and of course they're gonnasay they didn't get it ‘cause she wantsmore, man, she's gotta feed the monkey, Imean--hasn't that ever occurred to you. . .? Sir?

Lebowski (quietly) No. NoMr. Lebowski,that had not occurred to me.

Brandt That had notoccurred to us, Dude.

Dude Well, okay,you're not privy to all the new shit, so uh,you know, but that's what you pay me for. Speaking of which, would it be possible forme to get my twenty grand in cash? Igotta check this with my accountant of course,but my concern is that, you know, it couldbump me into a higher tax--

Lebowski Brandt,give him the envelope.

Dude Well,okay, if you've already made out the check. ..

Brandt is handinghim a letter-sized envelope which is distended by something inside.

Brandt We receivedit this morning. ..

The Dude, frowning,untucks its flap, takes out some cotton wadding and unrolls it.

Lebowski Sinceyou have failed to achieve, even in the modest taskthat was your charge, since you have stolenmy money, and since you have unrepentantlybetrayed my trust. ..

The wadding,undone, reveals a smaller wad of gauze taped up inside. TheDude undoes the tape with his fingernails and starts to unroll the innerpackage.- .

thatthey should do whatever is necessary to

recover their money fromyou, Jeffrey Lebowski. And with Brandtas my witness, I tell you this: Any furtherharm visited upon Bunny, shall be visited tenfoldupon your head.

Between thumb and forefinger theDude holds up the contents of the package--a little toe, withemerald green nail polish.

toe.

COFFEE SHOP

The Dude and Walter sit at thecounter, both staring off into space, both absently stirringtheir coffee with little clinking noises.

After a long beat:

Walter That wasn'ther toe. ..

Dude Whose toewas it,Walter?

Walter How the fuckshould I know? I do know that nothingabout it indicates--

Dude Thenail polish, Walter.

Walter Fine,Dude. As if it's impossible to get somenail polish, apply it to someone else's toe--

Dude Someone else's--where the fuck are they gonna--

Walter You want a toe? I can get you a toe, believe me. There are ways, Dude. You don't wanna know about it, believe me.

Dude But Walter--

Walter I'll get you a toeby this afternoon--with nail polish. Thesefucking amateurs. They send us a toe,we're supposed to shit our- selves with fear. Jesus Christ. My point is--

Dude They're gonnakill her, Walter, and then they're gonnakill me--

Walter Well that's just,that's the stress talking, Dude. So farwe have what looks to me like a series ofvictimless crimes--

Dude What about thetoe?

Walter FORGETABOUT THE FUCKING TOE!

A waitress enters.

Waitress Could youplease keep your voices down--this is a familyrestaurant.

Walter Oh,please dear! I've got news for you: the SupremeCourt has roundly rejected prior restraint!

Dude Walter, this isn't a First Amendment thing.

Waitress Sir, ifyou don't calm down I'm going to have to askyou to leave.

Walter Lady, Igot buddies who died face-down in the muck soyou and I could enjoy this family restaurant!

The Dude getsup:

Dude All right,I'm leaving. I'm sorry ma'am.

Walter . Don't run away from this, Dude! Goddamnit,

this affectsall of us!

The Dude has left frame; Walter calls after him:

He looksdefiantly around.

He stirsthe coffee, bopping his head in time to the Muzak, affectingnonchalance.

DUDE'SBATHROOM

A drippingnoise.

TheDude sits in the bathtub, staring stuporously, a joint pinchedin one hand, a washcloth draped over his head.

We hear the phone ringing in the other room.

The Dude is staring at his toes, which protrude from the soapy water, splayed against the far side of the tub.

After the Dude's outgoing message we hear:

Voice Through Machine Mr. Lebowski, this is Duty Officer Rolvaag of the L.A.P.D. ...

The Dude looks stuporously up, his head swaying.

be claimed at the North Hollywood Auto Circus there on Victory. ..

Dude Far out. Far fuckin' out.

Message You'll just need to present a--

The message is interrupted by loud smashing sounds, as of someone: applying a baseball bat to the answering machine.

Dude

He looks blearily at the open doorway.

A tall man dressed in black leatherwith a cricket paddle is Striding across the living room towardsthe bathroom.

Dude Hey! This is a privateresidence, man!

The man has entered the bathroomand, in stride, swings the cricket paddle up to smash theoverhead light. Two other men are entering behind him.

The room is dark now except forspill from the living room; the men are backlit shapes.

One of them holds a stringat the other end of which a small animal skitters excitedlyabout the floor.

The Dude looks curiouslyat the small, nattering animal.

Dude

The man with the string scoopsup the marmot and tosses it, squealing, into the bathtub.

The Dude screams.

The marmot splashes frantically,biting at the Dude in a frenzy of fearful aggression.

First Man Vee vant zatmoney, Lebowski.

The Dude, screaming,grabs the lip of the tub and starts to hoist himself up but the firstman lays a palm on top of his head and squushes himback intothe water.

Second Man You thinkveer kidding und making mit de funny stuff?

Third Man Vee coulddo things you haffent dreamed of, Lebowski .

Second Man Ja, vee could really do it, Lebowski. Vee belief in nossing.

He scoopsthe marmot out of the water. It shakes itself off, Sprayingthe Dude.

Dude Jesus!

Dieter Vee belief in nossing, Lebowski! NOSSING!!

The marmot,back on the floor, is skittering around, shaking itself andconvulsing in little sneezes.

Dude Jesus Christ!

First Man Tomorrow vee come back und cut off your chonson.

Dude

First Man I SAY VEE CUT OFF YOUR CHONSON!

The threemen turn to leave. Over their retreating backs:

Second Man Just sink about zat, Lebowski.

First Man Ja, your viggly penis, Lebowski.

Seccond Man Ja, und maybe vee stamp on it und skvush it, Lebowski!

NORTH HOLLYWOOD AUTO CIRCUS

A policeman with a clipboard is leading the Dude througha large parking lot.

Policeman You're lucky she wasn't chopped, Mr. Lebowski. Must've been a joyride situation; they abandoned the car once they hit the retaining wall.

They have reached the Dude's car. The driver's side exterior has been scraped raw. The policeman hands the Dude a door handle and an exterior rear-view mirror.

You'll have to get in on the other side.

The Dudeclimbs in the passenger side.

Dude My fucking briefcase! It's not here!

Policeman Yeah, sorry, I saw that on the report. You're lucky they left the tape deck though.

Dude -My fucking briefcase! Jesus--what's that smell?

Policeman Uh, yeah. Probably a vagrant, slept inthe car. Or perhaps just used it as a toilet, and moved on.

The Dude tries to roll down the driver'swindow but it will not go; he bellows through the glass:

Dude When will you find these guys? Imean, do you have any promising leads?

The policeman laughs, agreeing broadly.

Policeman Leads, yeah. I'll just checkwith the boys down at the Crime Lab. They've assigned four more detectives to the case,got us working in shifts.

Tne Dude looks sadly through hiswindow at the policeman rocking back on his heels, his raucous laughtermuffled by the glass.

BOWLING ALLEY BAR

The Dude, Walter and Donny sit at thebar, the Dude with a White Russian, Walter with a beer, andDonny eating beer nuts.

Donny

Walter Oh for Christ--willyou shutthe fuck up, Donny.

Dude I figuremy only hope is that the big Lebowskikills me before the Germans can cut my dickoff.

Walter Now thatis ridiculous, Dude. No one 15 going tocut your dick off.

Dude Thanks Walter.

Walter ; Not ifI have anything to say about it.

Dude (bitterly) Yeah, thanks Walter. That gives me a very securefeeling.

Walter Dude ~--

Dude That makes me feel all warm inside.

Walter Now Dude--

Dude This whole fucking thing--I could be sitting here with just pee-stains on my rug.

Walter sadly shakes his head.

Walter Fucking Germans. Nothing changes. Fucking Nazis. . oo

Donny They were Nazis, Dude?

Walter Come on, Donny, they were threatening castration!

Donny Uh-huh.

Walter Are you gonna split hairs?

Donny No--

Walter Am I wrong?

Donny Well--

Dude They're nihilists.

Walter Huh?

Dude They kept saying theybelieve in nothing.

Walter Nihilists! Jesus. .

Walter looks haunted.

National Socialism,Dude, at least it's an ethos.

Dude Yeah.

Walter And let's also not forget--let'snot forget, Dude--that keepingwildlife, an amphibious rodent, for uh, domestic,you know, within the city--that isn'tlegal either.

Dude What're you, a fuckingpark ranger now?

Walter No, I'm--

Dude Who gives a shitabout the fucking marmot!

Walter --We're sympathizinghere, Dude--

Dude Fuck your sympathy! I.don'tneed your sympathy, man, Ineed my fucking Johnson!

Donny What do you need that for,Dude?

Walter You gotta buck up, man,you can't go into the tournament with this negativeattitude--

Dude Fuck the tournament! Fuckyou, Walter!

There is a moment of stunned silence.

Walter Fuck the tournament?!

Sad; quiet:

to be cheered up. C'monDonny, let's go get a lane.

They leave the Dude sittingmorosely at the bar. As he stares down into his empty glass:

Dude Another Caucasian,Gary.

Voice Right, Dude.

Still staring down at the bar:-

Dude Friends like these,huh Gary.

Gary That's right, Dude.

The pop song on the jukeboxhas ended; someone puts on "Tumbling Tumbleweeds.*

A man saunters up to thebar to take the stool that Walter vacated. He is middle-aged,amiable, craggily handsome--Sam Elliot, perhaps. He has a largeWestern-style mustache and wears denims, a yoked shirt and a cowboyhat.

To the bartender:

Man D'ya have a good sarsaparilla?

We recognize the voice ofThe Stranger whose narration opened the

movie.

Bartender Sioux CitySarsaparilla.

The Stranger nods.

The Stranger That's agood one.

Waiting for hisdrink, he looks amiably around the bar. His crinkled eyes settleon the Dude.

The Stranger

The Dude, still staringdown at his drink, shakes his head.

Dude Ahh, not so good, man.

The Stranger Onea those days, huh. Wal, a wiser fella thanm'self once said, sometimes you eat the bar and sometimes the bar, wal, he eats you.

Dude (absently} Uh-huh. That some kind of Eastern thing?

The Stranger Farfrom it.

Dude Mm.

The bartenderputs a brown bottle and a frosted glass on thebar in front ofThe Stranger, who touches his hat brim.

The Stranger Much obliged.

He looksback at the Dude.

I like your style, Dude.

TheDude looks up, absently:

Dude

whole cowboy thing goin'.

The Stranger Thankie. . .Just one thing, Dude. D'ya have to use s'manycuss words?

The Dude looks at TheStranger as if just now noticing how out of place the cowpoke is.

Dude The fuck areyou talking about?

The Stranger chucklesindulgently and pushes off from the bar.

The Stranger Okay, haveit your way.

He brushes his hatbrim with a fingertip.

Dude Yeah. . .thanks man.

He is gone. "TumblingTumbleweeds" is ending as we hear an offscreenvoice, breaking the spell:

Voice Dude! Dude!

The Dude looks:

Tony, theuniformed limo driver, is at the door of the bar, beckoning.

MAUDE'S LOFT

She strides towardus, naked under a robe which she is just cinching shut. Paint flecks her skin.

Maude Jeffrey, you haven't gone to the doctor.

Dude No it's fine, really, uh--

Maude Do you have any news regarding my father's money?

Dude I,uh. . .money, yeah, I gotta respecfully,

you know, tender my resignationon that matter, ‘causeit looks like yourmother really was kidnapped after all.

Maude She most certainly was not!

Dude Hey man, why don't you fuckinglisten occasionally? You might learnsomething. Now I got--

Maude And please don't call hermy mother.

Dude Now I got--

Maude She is most definitely theperpetrator and not the victim.

Dude I'm telling you, I got definitiveevidence--

Maude From who?

Dude The main guy, Dieter--

Maude Dieter Hauff?

Dude Well--yeah, I gquess--

Maude Her "co-star" in the beaverpicture?

Dude Beaver? You mean vagina?--Imean, you know him?

Maude Dieter has been on the fringesof--well, of everything in L.A., forabout twenty years. Look at my LP's. Under “Autobahn.”*

The Dude fingers through the albumsfilling one bookshelf.

album in the mid-seventies. ..

The Dude stops between two albums.

Dude Roy Orbison. . . Pink Floyd.

Maude Huh? Autobahn. A-u-t-o. Their music is a sort of--ugh--techno-pop. . .

The Dude pulls out an album with aworn sleeve. On it is the group's name, Autobahn, the albumname, Nagelbett, and a picture of three young Germans, their foreheadslooming below slicked- back hair, gazing upward in thin-~lippedepiphany. They are wearing severe but modishly retrosuits. Each has his name under his picture--Dieter, Kieffer; and Franz. A bed of nails is the only set dressing on the cyc.

Jeez. I miss vinyl.

Maude Is he pretending tobe the abductor?

Dude Well. . . yeah--

Maude Look, Jeffrey, youdon't really kidnap someone that you'reacquainted with. You can't get away withit if the hostage knows who you are.

Dude Well yeah. . .I know that. .

Maude So Dieter has themoney?

Dude Well, no, not exactly. It's a complicated case, Maude. Lottains. Lotta outs. And a lotta strands tokeep in my head, man. Lotta | Strands in oldDuder's--

Maude Do you stillhave that doctor's number?

Dude Huh? No, really, Idon't even have the bruise any more, I--

She is scribbling.

Maude PleaseJeffrey. I don't want to be responsiblefor any delayed after-effects.

Dude Delayedafter-eff--

Maude Iwant you to see him immediately.

She is pickingup a telephone.

Lo I'll see if he's available. He's a goodman, and thorough.

CLOSE SHOT THE DUDE

His eyesare closed, a headset on, his shirt off. Leaking tinnily throughthe headset we hear the openingbars of "Comin' Up Aroundthe Bend."

Behindhim, cropped so that we see only a little ofhis torso, a white-smockedfigure taps at the Dude's back.

Aftera moment the figure circles to one side, out of frame. His hand reachesin to pull one arm of the headset away fromthe Dude's ear, and as he does so the music issuesmore strongly.

Could you slide your shorts downplease, Mr. Lebowski?

TheDude's eyes open.

Dude Huh? No, she, she hit me right here.

Voice I understand sir. Could you slideyour shorts down please?

DUDE'S CAR

The Dude is driving home. A Creedence tape plays.

The Dude is sucking down a joint. He glances at the rear-view

mirror--and,noticing something, looks again.

HIS POV

AVolkswagon bug is following, a lone fat man driving.

THE DUDE

Hiseyes still on the mirror, he absently takes the jointbetween thumband forefinger of his right hand and flicks it outthe driver'swindow--except that the window is not open. The butt bounces off the glass and around the car, showering sparks.

DUDE'S CROTCH

The glowing butt rolls down the car seat between hislegs.

The Dude screams.

THE STREET ;

The car careens wildly as the surroundingtraffic veers off to make way, horns blaring. The car finally spins andcomes to rest with its passenger side wrapped into a telephonepoll.

INSIDE THE CAR

The Dude frantically grabs at his door, whichwon't open, and -then slides over to push at the passengerdoor, which also won't open.

Dude Fuck Marie. ..

But he is sitting on the passenger sidenow, away from the lit butt. He looks around for it.

Smoke is wisping up from between thedriver's seat cushion and back cushion.

He takes his beer and pours it in between thecushions. There is €@hissing.sound. But there is a piece ofpaper sticking out from between the cushions.

The Dude pulls it out.

It is lined spiral notebookpaper, slightly singed and dripping beer, covered with handwriting. In the upper right-hand corner is the name Lawrence Sellers,and under that, Mrs. Jamtoss 5th Period. The theme is titled "TheLouisiana Purchase." In red ink is a large circledD and some handwritten marginal comments; misspelled words are circledin red throughout.

CRANE JACKSON'S FOUNTAINSTREET THEATER

We are behind Walter,the Dude, and Donny, facing the stage in the background whereAllan, the Dude's balding landlord, is performing a dancemoderne.

As Walter talks to theDude he leans in to him, his voice hushed, sO as not to disturbthe rest of the very sparse audience.

Walter He livesin North Hollywood on Radford, near the In-and-OutBurger--

Dude The In-and-OutBurger is on Camrose.

Walter Near the In-and-Out Burger--

Donny Those are good burgers, Walter.

Walter Shut the fuck up, Donny...This kid isin the ninth grade, Dude, and his father is--areyou ready for this?--Arthur Digby Sellers.

Dude Who the fuck is that?

Walter Huh?

Dude Who the fuck is Arthur Digby Sellers?

Walter Who the f--have you ever heard ofa little show called Branded, Dude?

Dude Yeah.

Walter All but one man died? There at Bitter Creek?

Dude Yeah yeah, I know the fucking show Walter, 60 what?

Walter Fucking Arthur Digby Sellers wrote 156 episodes, Dude. ;

Dude Uh-huh.

Walter _ The bulk of the series.

Dude Uh-huh.

Walter Not exactly a lightweight.

_- Dude No.

Walter And yet his son is a fucking dunce.

Dude Uh.

Walter Yeah, go figure. Well we'llgo out there after the, uh, the. .

He waves a hand vaguely toward the stage.

Donny We'll be near the In-and-OutBurger.

Walter Shut the fuck up, Donny. We'll, uh, brace the kid~--he'llbe a pushover. We'll get that fucking money, if he hasn't spentit already. Million fucking clams. Andyes, we'll be near the, uh--some burgers, somebeers, a few laughs. Our fucking troubles areover, Dude.

RESIDENTIALAREA

The Dude andWalter are pulling up in front of a dilapidated house sittingon a scrubby lot. Parked incongruously infront of the house isa brand new red Corvette.

Dude Fuck me, man! That kid's already spent all the money!

Walter Hardly Dude, a new ‘vette? The kid's still got, oh, 960 to 970 thousand, dependingon the options. Wait in the car, Donny.

THE FRONTDOOR

Walterrings the bell. It is opened by amatronly Spanish woman.

Woman Jace?

Walter Hello, Pilar? My name is Walter Sobchak,we spoke on the phone, this is my associate Jeffrey Lebowski.

Woman Jace.

Walter May we uh, we wanted to talk aboutlittle Larry. May we come in?

Woman Jace.

They enter a dim living room and stand, lookingabout, as Pilar callsup the stairs:

Pilar Larry! Sweetie! Dat mang is here!

There is a rhythmic compressor sound; Walterplaces it and nudges the Dude. At the other end of the living rooma man lies on somethingthat looks like a hospital gurneywith its midsection enclosed by a motorized stainless-steel bubble. Itis an iron © lung, artificially breathing.with distinct hisses inand out.

Walter That's him, Dude.

Viva voce:

And a good day to you, sir.

Pilar See down,please.

Walter Thank you, ma'am.

He and theDude sit on a sagging green sofa. In a lowered voice, to Pilar:

Pilar No, no. He has healt' problems.

Walter Uh-huh.

He bellowsacross the room:

both enormous--on a personal level, Branded, especially the early episodes, has been a source of, uh, inspir---

Thereare footsteps on the stairs. Larry, a fifteen-year-old, looksat the two men.

Pilar See down, Sweetie. These are the policeman--

Walter No ma'am, I didn't mean to give the impression that we're police exactly. We're hoping that it will not be necessary to call the police.

He adoptshis command voice in turning to Larry:

- .But that is up to little Larry here. Isn't it, Larry?

Walter pops the latches on his attache case and takes out the homework,which is now in a ziploc bag. He holds it out at arm's length,displaying it to Larry.

Larrydoes not respond.

Dude Look, man, didyou--

| Walter Dude, please!. . . Is this your homework, Larry?

Dude Just ask himif he--ask him about the car, man!

Walter is still holdingout the homework.

Walter . Is thisyours, Larry? Is this your homework, Larry?

Dude Is the carout front yours?

Walter Is thisyour homework, Larry?

Dude Weknow it's his fucking homework, Walter! Where's the fucking money, you little brat?

ThroughoutWalter has been staring at Larry with the homework extended towardshim.

Look,Larry. .. Have you ever heard of Vietnam?

Dude Oh, for Christ's sake, Walter--

Walter You're going to enter a world of pain, son. We know that this is your homework. We know you stole a car--

Dude And the fucking money!

Walter And the fucking money. And we know that this is your homework, Larry.

No answer.

- You're gonna KILLyour FATHER, Larry!.

‘Finally,in disgust:

As he shoves the homework back inthe attache case:

watch out the frontwindow there, Larry.

He is heading for the door. The Dude, puzzled, rises to follow him.

STRANGER in the ASS,Larry.

OUTSIDE

Walter is striding down thelawn with his attache case like an enraged encyclopedia salesman. Without looking back at the Dude, who follows:

Walter Fucking languageproblem, Dude.

He pops the Dude's trunk, flingsin the briefcase and takes out a tire iron. ,

He is walking over to theCorvette.

YOU SEE WHAT HAPPENS, LARRY!

CRASH! He swings the crowbarinto the windshield, which shatters.

CRASH! He takes out thedriver's window.

STRANGER INTHE ASS!

Lights aregoing on inhouses down the street. Distant dogs bark.

HERE'S WHAT HAPPENS, LARRY!

CRASH!

IN THE ASS!

CRASH!

A man in a sleeveless T-shirtand boxer shorts has run over behind Walter and grabbedhim frombehind on a backswing of the crowbar.

Man WHAT THE FUCKJOO DOING, MANG?!

He wrestles the crowbar awayfrom the startled Walter.—

I JUS'BAWDEEZ FUCKEEN CAR LASS WEEK!

Walter cringes before theenraged Mexican.

Walter

The man looks about,wildly.

Man I KILLJOO, MANG! I--I KILL JOR FUCKEEN CAR!

He runs over to theDude's car.

Dude No! Not NO! THAT'S NOT--

CRASH! CRASH!

Man I FUCKEENKILL JOR FUCKEEN CAR!

CRASH!

I KILL JOR FUCKEEN CAR!

INSIDETHE CAR

Glass rainsin on a terrified, cringing, Donny.

; MAN I KILL JOR FUCKEEN CAR!

Ona deafening CRASH we cut to:

THE DUDE'S CAR

We are looking into the car throughthe broken windshield as it rattles down the freeway. Wind whistles through the caved-in windows.

The Dude drives, his jaw clenched,staring grimly out at the road. Walter, beside him,and Donny in the back seat, munch on In-and-Out Burgers.

Creedence music plays abovethe bluster of wind.

DUDE'S BUNGALOW

As the Dude talks on thephone he is hammering a two-by-four into the floor just inside, andparallel to, the front door.

Dude

want to handle it myselffrom now on. . . No.

it made ithome, I'm calling from home. No, Walter, itdidn't look like Larry was about to crack.

He finishes hammering,rises and grabs a straightbacked chair that stands nearby.

you're right,Walter, and the unspoken message is FUCKYOU AND LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE. . .Yeah, I'll be at practice.

He hangs up andhas justfinished sliding the chair into place with its topunder thedoorknob and its legs braced against the two-by-four, thuswedging the door closed, when the door is Opened--outwards. The chair clatters to the floor.

Dude Huh?

Woo and theblond man who earlier peed on the rug stride in, kicking the chairaway.

Woo Pinyour diapers on, Lebowski. Jackie Treehorn wants to see you.

Blond Man And we know which Lebowski you are, Lebowski.

Woo Yeah. Jackie Treehornwants to talk to the deadbeat Lebowski.

BlondMan You're not dealing withmorons here.

BLACKNESS

Out of the blackness something isfalling toward us. It is a woman, falling in slow motion,her limbs flailing, her mouth contorted by either fear or ecstasy. She is topless. She falls past the camera, leaving blackness,then after a beat reappears, rising into the night sky.

MALIBU BEACH

A crowd of mostly tannedmiddle-aged men with blow-dried hair, wearing jogging outfits andother expensively casual attire, are blanket-tossing the squealingyoung woman in nightmarish slow motion.

WIDER

It is a party, lit by festivebeach lights and standing kerosene heaters. 1960's mainstreamjazz, of the Mancini-Brubeck school, has been piped down to speakerson the beach.

In long shot now the womanrises, squealing, disappears into darkness, descends into light,rises again.

A man walks towards the camerathrough the pools of beach light. He is handsome, fiftyish,wearing cotton twill pants and a Turnbull & Asher shirtwith a foulard knotted at the neck. Behind him, the woman risesand falls, appears and disappears.

Man Hello Dude, thanksfor coming. I'm Jackie Treehorn.

INSIDE THE BEACH HOUSE

The Dude is looking aroundat the '60'smodern decor.

Dude This is quitea pad you got here, man.

Completelyunspoiled.

Treehorn What'syour drink, Dude?

Dude White Russian,thanks. How's the smit business,Jackie?

Treehorn oe, Iwouldn't know, Dude. I deal in publishing, entertainment,political advocacy, and--

Dude Which one was Logjammin'?

Treehorn Regrettably,it's true, standards have fallen inadult entertainment. It's video, Dude. Now that we're competing with the amateurs, we can't afford to invest that little extra instory, production value,.feeling. ..

He taps hisforehead with one finger.

biggest erogenous zone--

Dude On you, maybe.

Hehands him the drink.

Treehorn Of course, you do get the good with the bad. The new technology permits us to do exciting things with interactive erotic software. Wave of the future, Dude. 100% electronic.

Dude Un-Rhuh. Well, I still jerk off manually.

Treehorn Of course you do. I can see you're anxious for mé to get to the point. Well Dude, here it is. Where's Bunny?

- Dude I thought you might know, man.

Treehorn Me? How would I know? The only reason she

ran off was toget away from her rather sizable debt tome.

Dude But she hasn'trun off, she's been--

Treehorn waves this off.

Treehorn I've heard thekidnapping story, so save it. I know you'remixed up in all this, Dude, and I don't carewhat you're trying to take off her husband. That's your business. All I'm saying is, Iwant mine.

Dude Yeah, well,right man, there are many facets to this,uh, you know, many interested parties. IfI can find your money, man-- what's in itfor the Dude?

Treehorn Of course,there's that to discuss. Refill?

Dude Does the Popeshit in the woods?

Treehorn Let's saya 10% finder's fee?

‘<< Dude

Okay,Jackie, done. I like the way you do business. Your money is being held by a kid namedLarry Sellers. He lives in North Hollywood,on Radford, near the In-and-Out Burger. A real fuckin' brat, but I'm sure yourgoons'll be able to get it off him, I mean he's only fifteen and he's flunking social studies. So if you'll just write me a check formy ten per cent. .. of half a million. . .fifty grand.

He is getting tohis feet, but sways woozily.

a nellof a Caucasian, Jackie.

The Dude shakeshis head, tries to focus.

Treehorn A fifteen-year-old? Is this your idea of a joke?

Jackie Treehorn's image starts to swim. He is joined on either side by Woo and the blond man, all threemen looking grimly down at the Dude.

Dude No funny stuff, Jackie. . .the kid's got it. - Hiya, fellas. . .kid just wanted a car. - all the Dude everwanted. . .was his rug back. . . not greedy. . .it really.

He squints at Jackie Treehorn,who swims in and out of focus.

tied the roomtogether.

He tips forward, spillinghis drink off the table.

FROM UNDER THE GLASS COFFEETABLE

Looking up at the Dude ashis face hits the glass and squushes.

FAST FADE OUT

TheStranger's Voice Darknesswarshed over the Dude--darker'n a black steer'stookus on a moonless prairie night. There was no bottom.

We hear a thrummingbass.

SCRATCHY WHITE TITLE CARD:

JACKIETREEHORN PRESENTS

ANOTHER TITLE CARD:

THE DUDE

and

MAUDE LEBOWSKI

in

A THIRD TITLECARD:

GUTTERBALLS

The title logois a suggestively upright bowling pin flanked by a

pair of bowling balls. The bendingbass sound turns into the lead-in to Kenny Rogers and theFirst Edition's “Just Dropped in."

The Dude is walking down a longcorridor dressed as a cable repairman. The Dude's face iswashed with a brilliant light as © the corridor opens onto a gleamingbowling alley.

In the center of the alleystands Maude Lebowski, singing operatic harmony to the KennyRogers song. She wears an armored breastplate and Norse headgear,has braided pigtails, and holdsa trident.

The Dude stands behind herand, pressed up against her, helps her with her follow-through asshe releases a bowling ball.

The lane is straddled bya line of chorines in spangly mini- skirts, their arms akimbo,Busby-Berkley style, their legs turning the lane into a tunnelleading to the pins at the end.

But it is no longer abowling ball rolling between their legs--it is the Dude himself, levitatinginches off the lane, the tools from his utility belt swingingfree. He is face down, his arms, torpedolike, pressed againsthis sides.

His point of view showsthe lane rushing by below, the little ball-guide arrows zippingby.

The Dude twists hisbody around, performing a barrel-roll so that he iS now gliding alongthe lane face-up.

Now his point of viewlooks up the dresses of the passing chorines.

The Dude smiles dreamilyand does a backstroke motion so that he is once again glidingface-down. He looks forward and his forward momentum blowsback his hair.

Coming at us, as wego through the last few pairs of legs, are the approachingpins. We hit the pins, scattering them, and rush on into black.

A body drops down intothe blackness in slow motion--a topless woman, squealing,her legs kicking.

As she drops out of frame,leaving blackness again, three men are entering from thebackground, emerging into a pool of light. It is theGermans, advancing ominously, wielding oversized shears which theymenacingly scissor.

The Dude,now standingin a field of black, reacts to the advancingGermans. He turns and runs, fists pumping.

The scissoring sound of the shears turns intothe whoosh of car- bys. The field of black is punctured by headlights. The Dude is running blearily down the middie of the PacificCoast Highway. Cars rush by on either side, horns blaring.

e

With the BLOO-WHUP of a short siren blast,a squad car with flashing gumballs pulls up.

SQUAD CAR

The Dude sits in the back seat, hishead lolling with the motion of the car as he blearily sings the themeof Branded:

Dude

He was innocent. . . Not a charge was true. And they say he ran awaaaaaay.

CHIEF'S OFFICE

The Dude is hurled against the chief'sdesk, which he bounces off of, to come to rest more or less seatedin a facing chair.

Eis wallet is tossed onto the desk.

The chief leans forward, takes thewallet and sorts through it with disgusted incredulity.

Chief This is your only 1.D.?

He is looking at the Ralph'sShopper's Club card.

Dude I know my rights.

Chief You don't know shit,Lebowski.

Dude I want a fucking lawyer,man. I want Bill Kunstler.

Chief What are you, somekind of sad-assed refugee from the fucking sixties?

Dude

Uh-huh.

Chief Mr. Treehorn tells us that he had to eject you from his garden party, that you were drunk and abusive.

Dude That guy treats women like objects,man.

Chief Mr. Treehorn draws a lot of water in this town, Lebowski. You don't draw shit. We got a nice quiet beach communityhere, and Iaim to keep it nice and quiet. So letme make something plain. I don't likeyou sucking around bothering our citizens,Lebowski. I don't like your jerk-off name, Idon't like your jerk-off face, I don't likeyour jerk- off behavior, and I don't likeyou, jerk-off --do I make myself clear?

The Dude stares.

Dude I'm sorry, I wasn'tlistening.

The Chief hurls his steaming mug ofcoffee at the Dude. It hits him in the forehead with a thud, thescalding coffee splashing everywhere.

The Chief is already up off his chair,rounding the desk.

Dude --Ow! Fucking fascist!

The Chief slaps him twice.

Chief Stay out of Malibu,Lebowski!

He kicks the chair out fromunder the Dude, and then starts kicking at him.

your ugly fuckinggoldbricking ass out of my beach community!

TheDude, in the back seat of a taxicab thatrocks and squeaks withevery bump, is gingerly touching at sore spotson his face and scalp.

"PeacefulEasy Feeling" is on the radio.

DUDE'S POV

The back of the driver, a large black manwith rasta dreds under a knit cap.

Dude Jesus, man, can you change the station?

Driver Fuck you man! You don't likemy fucking music, get your own fucking cab!

Dude I've had a--

Driver| I pull over and kick your assout, man!

Dude ~-had a rough night, and Ihate the fucking Eagles, man--

Driver That's it! Outta this fuckingcab!

THE STREET

The cab screeches over towards the curb. Another car, oncoming, its radio blaring Metallica, speedsby.

INSIDE THE OTHER CAR

It is a red convertible. The driver,singing loudly and badly along with the radio, her hairblowing in the wind, a dreamy smile on her face as she speeds along,higher than a kite, is Bunny Lebowski.

THE FOOTWELL

On the accelerator her right foot, inan open-toed bright red high-heeled shoe, has five painted toes.

Whenshe downshifts her left footenters to engage the clutch.

Fivemore toes.

DUDE'S BUNGALOW

The Dude staggers in the open frontdoor, one hand pressed to a lump on his forehead, and looksaround.

Dude - . Jesus.

The place is a wreck. Furniturehas been overturned, upholstery Slashed, drawers dumped.

Quiet.

The door to the bedroom startsto creak open.

The Dude cringes.

Maude emerges from the bedroom. She is wearing a bathrobe.

Maude Jeffrey.

Dude

She pulls open the bathrobeas she approaches.

Maude Love me.

The Dude is stupefied.

Dude

Thoomp! On the embracewe cut to:

After a beat, a long sigh,and then a voice from the blackness:

Maude

Jeffrey. ,

Dude

Well, uh. . .Not much to tell. .

A match is dragged acrossa headboard; the Dude is lighting himself a joint. He shakes the match out to restore blackness except for the glowingtip of the joint.

Port Huron Statement .--The originalPort Huron Statement.

Maude Uh-huh.

Dude Not thecompromised second draft. And then I,uh. . .Ever hear of the Seattle Seven?

Maude MMnun.

Click--theDude turns on a bedside lamp. He and Maude lie next to each other inbed.

Dude Mm. And then. . . let's see, I uh--music business briefly. .

Maude Oh?

Dude . Yeah. Roadie for Metallica. Speed of Sound Tour.

Maude Uh-huh.

Dude Bunch of assholes. And then, you know, little of this, little of that. My career's, uh, slowed down a bit lately.

Maude What do you do for fun?

Dude Oh, you know, the uSual. Bowl. Drive around. The occasional acid flashback.

He climbs out of bed but Maude remains in it. She wedges a pillow into the small of her back and clasps a hand on each kneecap. She pulls her knees in toward her chest to keep her

pelvis raised.

Maude

Dude Jackie Treehorn trashed theplace. Wanted to save the finder's fee.

Maude Finder's fee?

Dude He thought I had your father'smoney, so he got me out of the waywhile he looked for it.

Maude It's not my father'smoney, it's the Founda- tion's. Why did he thinkyou had it? And who does?

Dude Larry Sellers, a high-schoolkid. Real fucking brat.

He picks a White Russian off thebedside table.

Maude Jeffrey--

Dude It's a complicated case,Maude. Lotta ins, lotta outs. FortunatelyI've been adhering to a pretty strict,uh, drug regimen to keep my mind, you know, limber. I'm real fucking Close to your father'smoney, real fucking Close. It's just--

Maude I keep tellingyou, it's the Foundation's money. Fatherdoesn't have any.

Dude - Huh? He'sfucking loaded.

, Maude No no, the wealthwas all Mother's.

Dude But your father--heruns stuff, he--

Maude

We did let Father run one of the companies, briefly, but he didn't do very well at it.

Dude But he's--

Maude He helps administer thé charitiesnow, and I give him a reasonable allowance. He has no money of his own. I know howhe likes to present himself; Father'sweakness is vanity. Hence the slut.

Dude Huh. Jeez. Well, so, didhe--is that yoga?

Throughout, Maude has been lying onher back with her knees pulled in.

Maude . It increases the chances ofconception.

The Dude spits some White Russian.

Dude increases?

Maude ,

eC Well yes, what did youthink this was all

about? Fun and games?

Dude Well. . . no, of coursenot--

Maude I want a child.

Dude Yeah, okay, but see,.theDude--

Maude Look, Jeffrey, Idon't want a partner. In fact I don't want thefather to be someone I have to see socially,or who'll have any interest in rearing thechild himself.

Dude Huh.

Something occurs to him.

So. . . thatdoctor. ..

Maude Exactly. What happened toyour face? Did Jackie Treehorn do that aswell?

The Dude is staring off into space,thinking. His answer is absent:

Dude No, the, uh, police chiefof Malibu. A real reactionary. . . Soyour father. . . Oh man, I get it!

Maude What?

The Dude is leaving the bedroom.

Dude Yeah, my thinkingabout the case, man, it had become uptight. Yeah. Your father--

LIVING ROOM

The Dude finishes punchinga number into the phone.

Phone Voice This is WalterSobchak. I'm not in; leave a message afterthe beep.

From the bedroom:

Maude's. Voice What're you talkingabout?

Beep.

Dude Walter, ifyou're there, pick up the fucking phone. Pickit up, Walter, this is an emergency. I'm not--

Walter Dude?

, Dude Walter, listen, I'm at my place, I need you to comepick me up--

Walter I can'tdrive, Dude, it's erev shabbas.

Dude Huh?

Walter Erev shabbas. I can't drive. I'm not even supposed topick up the phone, unless it's an emergency.

Dude Itis a fuckingemergency.

Walter Iunderstand. That's why I picked up the phone.

Dude THEN WHY CAN'T YOU--fuck, never mind, just callDonny then, and ask him to--

Walter Dude, I'mnot supposed to make calls--

Dude WALTER, YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE, WE GOTTA GO TO PASADENA! COME PICK ME UP OR I'M OFF THE FUCKING BOWLING TEAM!

Maude's voice Jeffrey?

THEDUDE

He emergeson his front stoop, pulling on a shirt.

His attentionis caught by something down the street.

HIS POV

A caris parked halfway down the block. We can see the shape of a fatman in the driver's seat.

THE DUDE

Striding purposefully down the street.

HIS POV

The fat man leans forwardand we hear the sound of the car's ignition coughing,but the engine will not turn over. More whines and coughs;no rtart.

The man hurriedlyfumbles in front of him. He brings up a newspaper, whichhe holds before his face.

THE DUDE

As he gets tothe car. He reaches through the open driver's window andgrabs the newspaper and hurls it to the ground. He is revved withnervous energy.

Dude Get out of that fucking car, man!

Theman nervously complies. The Dude flinches at theman's movementas he gets out.

Theman cringes, reacting to the Dude's flinch.

He iswearing a cheap blue serge suit. He is baldwith a short fringeand a mustache.

The Dude shouts to cover his fear:

Dude Who the fuck are you, man! Come on,man!

Man Relax, man! No physical harm intended!

Dude Who the fuck are you? Why've youbeen following me? Come on, fuckhead!

Man Hey, relax man, I'm a brother shamus.

The Dude is stunned.

Dude

Man Irish m--What the fuck areyou talking about? My name's Da Fino! I'm aprivate snoop! Like you, man!

Dude Huh?

Da Fino A dick,man! And let me tell you something: I dig your work. Playing one side against the other--inbed with everybody--fabulous stuff,man.

Dude I'm not a--ah,fuck it, just Stay away from my fuckinglady friend, man.

Da Fino Heyhey, I'mnot messing with your special lady--

Dude a She'snot my special lady, she's my fucking ladyfriend. I'm just helping her conceive, man! .

Da Fino Hey, man, I'm not--

Dude Who're you working for? Lebowski? Jackie Treehorn?

Da Fino The Gundersons.

Dude The? Who the fff--

Da Fino The Gundersons. It's a wandering daughter job. Bunny Lebowski, man. Her real name is Fawn Gunderson. Her parents want her back.

He is fumblingin his wallet.

- -See?

The Dude looks at the picture.

It isprobably a school portrait, unmistakably Bunny, but fresh- faced,much younger looking, with a corn-fed smile and straight PartridgeFamily hair and bangs.

Dude Jesus fucking Christ.

Da Fino Crazy, huh? Ran away a year ago.

He is holdingout another picture.

when I found her. The family farm. ..

A bleakfarmhouse and silo are the only featureson a flat snow- swept landscape.

- .Outside of Moorhead, Minnesota. They think it'll make her homesick.

Dude Boy. How ya gonna keep ‘em down on the farm once they seen Karl Hungus.

He hands back the picture.

.. . She's been kidnapped, Da Fino. Or maybe not, but she's definitely notaround.

Da Fino Fuck, man! That's terrible!

Dude Yeah, it sucks.

Da Fino Well maybe you and me couldpool our resources--trade information--professional courtesy--compeers, you know--

We hear distant yapping, growing louderwith the hum of an approaching car.

Dude Yeah, I get it. Fuck off, Da Fino. And stay away from my special la--frommy fucking lady friend.

The Dude steps out to meet Walter's car as itpulls up, its passenger window open and the pomeranian leaningout and yapping.

Four people sit at a booth: Dieter, Kieffer,Franz, all in black leather, and a young woman with long stringyblonde hair, wearing torn and patched jeans and a ribbed sleevelesstee-shirt, worn thin with age. She is apparently braless,and is teutonically pale with birthmarks on her face and arms.

Notableis her camera-side leg, which endsin a bandage-swaddled foot. Dried rust-colored blood stains thetip of the bandage.

The four are arguing, loudly, in German. They seem very unhappy.

A waitress enters with a checkpad andpen.

Waitress You folks ready?

The German shouting stops. Dieterlooks sourly up.

Dieter

Kieffer Lingenberry pancakes.

Franz Sree picks in blanket.

The woman speaks to Dieter inGerman. He nods.

Dieter Lingenberry pancakes.

WALTER'S CAR

Walter's eyes are on the road ashe listens, driving, to the Dude, whose speech ::occasionally punctuated by yaps from the back seat.

Dude I mean we totally fuckedit up, man. We fucked up his pay-off. And got the kidnappers all pissedoff, and the big Lebowski yelled atme a lot, but he didn't do anything. Huh?

Walter Well it's, sometimes thecathartic, uh. ..

Dude . I'm saying if he knows I'ma fuck-up, then why does he still leaveme in charge of getting back his wife? Because he fucking doesn't want her back,man! He's had enough! He no longer digs her! It'sall a show! But then, why didn't he givea shit about his million bucks? Imean, he knew we didn't

hand off his briefcase,Dut he gfeverasked for it back.

Walter What's your point, Dude?

Dude His million bucks wasnever in it, man! There was no money in thatbriefcase! He was hoping they'd kill her! You threw out a ringer for a ringer!

Walter Yeah?

Dude Shit yeah!

Walter Okay, but how doesall this add up to an emergency?

Dude

Walter I'm saying, I seewhat you're getting at, Dude, he kept themoney, but my point is, here we are, it'sshabbas, the sabbath, which I'm allowed tobreak only if it's a matter of life and death--

Dude Walter, come offit. You're not even fucking Jewish, you're--

Walter What the fuckare you talking about?

Dude You're fuckingPolish Catholic--

Walter What the fuckare you talking about? I converted when Imarried Cynthia! Come on, Dude!

Dude Yeah, and youwere--

Walter You know this!

Dude And you weredivorced five fucking years ago.

Walter “Yeah? What do you think happens when you get divorced? You turn in your library card? Get a newdriver's license? Stop being Jewish?

Dude Thisdriveway.

As he turns:

Walter I'm asJewish as fucking Tevye--

Dude It's justpart of your whole sick Cynthia thing, Taking care of her fucking dog. Goingto her fucking synagogue. You're livingin the fucking past...

Walter Threethousand years of beautiful tradition, fromMoses to Sandy Koufax--YOU'RE GODDAMN RIGHT ILIVE IN THE PAST! I--Jesus. What the hell happened?

He is lookingoff as the car slows. The Dude looks where Walter is looking.

THE LEBOWSKIMANSION

Walter's carpulls up the drive into the foreground and he and the Dudeget out.

Both aregaping off at the front lawn.

Walter

THEIR POV

Tire treadslead across the manicured front lawn to where a little redsports car rests with its hood crumpled into a palm trunk.

TRACKINGDOWN THE GREAT HALLWAY

Through theFrench doors at its far end we can seeBunny, naked, brieflybouncing on the diving board before splashing intothe illuminatedpool outside. Heavy metal music filters infroma boom boxby the pool.

Brandt,approaching, stoops and straightens, stoopsand Straightens,picking up the discarded clothes thatrun the length of thehall.

He can't see you, Dude.

We pull the Dude and Walter as they approachthe doors to the great study. Walter's dog follows, stifflywaving its tail.

Dude Where'd she been?

Brandt Visiting friends of hers in PalmSprings. Just picked up and left,never bothered to tell us.

Dude But I guess she told Dieter.

Walter Jesus, Dude! She nevereven kidnapped herself!

Brandt Who's this gentleman,Dude?

Walter Who'm I? I'm a fuckingVETERAN!

Brandt You shouldn't go in there,Dude! He's very angry!

BANG--the Dude and Walter push throughthe double doors into--

THE GREAT ROOM

The big Lebowski turns at the soundof the door. His wheelchair. hums as he spins it around.

Lebowski (bitterly)

Well, shetsback. No thanks to you.

Dude Where's the money, Lebowski?

Walter A MILLION BUCKS FROM FUCKING NEEDY LITTLE URBAN ACHIEVERS! YOU ARE SCUM, MAN!

The dogyaps.

Lebowski Who the hell is he?

Walter | I'll tell you who I am! I'm the guy who's gonna KICK YOUR PHONY GOLDBRICKING ASS!

Dude We know the briefcase was empty, man. We know you kept the million bucks yourself.

Lebowski Well, you have your story, I havemine. I say I entrusted the money to you, and you stole it.

Walter AS IF WE WOULD EVER DREAM OF TAKING YOUR BULLSHIT MONEY!

Dude You thought Bunny'd been kidnapped andyou could use it as a pretext tomake somemoney disappear. All you needed was a sap topin it on, and you'd just met me. You thought, hey, a deadbeat, a loser, someone the square community won't give a shit about.

Lebowski Well? Aren't you?

Dude Well. . . yeah.

Lebowski All right, get out. Both ofyou.

Walter Look at that fucking phony, Dude! Pretending to be a fucking millionaire!

Lebowski I said out. Now.

Walter Let me tell you something else. I've seen a lot of spinals, Dude, and thisguy is a fake. A fucking goldbricker.

He is crossing to Lebowski.

been more certain of anythingin my life!

Lebowski Stay away from me, mister!

Walter reaches around from behindand hoists the big Lebowski out of the wheelchair by his armpits.

Walter Walk, you fucking phony!

The big Lebowski waggles helplessly,his rubbery feet grazing the floor like a Raggedy Ann's. The pomeranian gaily leaps and yaps.

Lebowski Put me down, you sonof a bitch!

Dude Walter!

Walter it's all over, man! We call your fucking bluff!

Dude WALTER, FOR CHRIST'SSAKE! HE'S CRIPPLED! PUT HIM DOWN!

Walter Sure, I'll put himdown, Dude. RAUSS! ACHTUNG, BABY!!

He shoves the big Lebowski forwardand he crumples to the floor, *weeping.

Walter

Oh, shit.

Lebowski (sobbing)

You're bullies! Cowards, both of you!

Walter is abashed. TheBig Lebowski flails about on the floor.

Walter

Dude He can't walk,Walter!

Walter Yeah, I can seethat, Dude.

Lebowski You monsters!

Dude Helpme put him back in his chair.

Walter moves to comply.

Walter Shit, sorryman.

Through his tears:

Lebowski Stayaway from me! You bullies! You and thesewomen! You won't leave a man his fuckingballs!

Dude Walter, you fuck!

Walter Shit,Dude, I didn't know. I wouldn't've done itif I knew he was a fucking crybaby.

Dude We're sorry, man. We're really sorry.

The Dude haspicked up the Big Lebowski's plaid lap warmer and is frantically tuckingit back in around his waist and batting the dog away.

Walter,puzzled, hands on hips, stands over the big Lebowski.

Walter Shit. He didn't look like a spinal.

TEN PINS

Scattered at the cut.

DUDE AND WALTER

Each with a beer at thescoring table.

Walter Sure you'll seesome tank battles. But fighting indesert is very different from fighting incanopy jungle.

Dude Uh-huh.

Walter : I mean 'Namwas a foot soldier's war whereas, uh, this thingshould be a fucking cakewalk. I mean Ihad an M16, Jacko, not an Abrams fucking tank. Just me and Charlie, man, eyeballto eyeball.

Dude Yeah.

Walter That's fuckin'combat. The man in the black pyjamas, Dude. Worthy fuckin' adversary.

Donny . Who's in pyjamas, Walter?

Walter Shut the fuck up, Donny. Not a bunch of fig- eaterswith towels on their heads tryin' to findreverse on a Soviet tank. This is not a worthy--

Voice HEY!

TheDude and Walter look.

Quintanais bellowing from the lip of the lane, and is restrainedby O'Brien.

Quintana What's this "day of rest*®shit, man?!

Walter looks athim innocently.

fuckingcare! It don't matter to Jesus! But you're not fooling me! You might fool the fucksin the league office, but you don't foolJesus! It's bush league psych-out stuff! Laughable, man! I would've fucked you in the ass Saturday, I'll fuck you in the ass next Wednesday instead!

He makeship-grinding coital motions as O'Brien leads himaway.

You got a date Wednesday, man!

Walter,his head cocked, and the Dude, peeking over his shades, watchhim go.

Walter He's cracking.

BOWLINGALLEY PARKING LOT

Denny, Walter and the Dude emerge from the alley, each holding his leatherette ball satchel.

Walter A tree of life, Dude. To all who cling to it.

They react to the droning synthesizer-based technopop coming from a boom box.

REVERSE

Dieter, Kieffer and Franz, in shiny black leather, stand ina linefacing them in the all-but-deserted lot. Behind themorange flameslick gently at the Dude's car, which has beenput tothe torch. The orange flames glow on the men's creaking leather.

Next to the car are three motorcycles, parked in a neatrow.

The Dude looks sadly at the burning car.

_ Dude They finally did it. They killed my fucking car.

Dieter

Vee vant zat money, Lebowski.

Kieffer Ja, uzzervize vee kill ze girl.

Franz Ja, it seems you forgot our littledeal, Lebowski.

Dude You don't have the fucking girl,dipshits.— We know you never did. So you'vegot nothin’ on my Johnson.

stumned, confer amongst themselvesin German.

Themen in black,

Under his breath: £

Donny Are these the Nazis, Walter?

Walter answers, also sotto voce, his eyes stillon the three men:

Walter They're nihilists, Donny, nothingto be afraid of.

The Germans stop conferring.

Dieter Vee don't care. Vee still vant zatmoney or vee fuck you upp.

Kieffer Ja, vee still vant ze money. Vee sreaten you. ;

He pulls an uzi from under his coat. Itglints inthe firelight.

Walter Fuck you. Fuck the three ofyou.

Dude Hey, cool it Walter.

Walter ignores the Dude, addresses theGermans:

Walter There's no ransom if you don't have a fucking hostage. That's what ransomis. Those are the fucking rules.

Dieter Zere ARE no ROOLZ!

Walter NO RULES! YOU CABBAGE-EATINGSONS-OF- BITCHES--

Kieffer His girlfriend gafe up her toe! She sought we'd be getting million dollars! Iss not fair!

Walter Fair! WHO'S THE FUCKINGNIHILIST HERE! WHAT ARE YOU, A BUNCH OF FUCKINGCRYBABIES?!

Dude Hey, cool it Walter. Listen,pal, there never was any money. The big Lebowski gave me an empty briefcase,man, so take it up with him.

Walter AND I'D LIKE MY UNDIESBACK!

The Germans confer again, in German.

Donny is visibly frightened.

Donny Are they gonna hurtus, Walter?

walter‘'stone is gentle:

Walter They won't hurt us,Donny. These men are cowards.

The conference ends:

Dieter Okay. Vee take zemoney you haf on you und vee call it eefen.

Walter Fuck you.

The Dude is digging into hispocket.

Dude Come on, Walter,we're ending this thing cheap.

Walter's eyes, burning with hatred,are locked on Dieter's.

Walter What's mine is mine.

Dude Come on, Walter!.

Louder, to the Germans, ashe looks in his wallet:

He inspects the change inhis palm.

Donny {tremulously) I got eighteendollars, Dude.

Walter (grimly) What'smine is mine.

With a ring of steel,Dieter produces a glinting saber.

Dieter VEE FUCKYOU UPP, MAN! VEE TAKE YOUR MONEY!

Walter (coolly) Comeand get it.

Dieter VEE FUCKYOU UPP, MAN!

Walter Comeand get it. Fucking nihilist.

Dieter IFUCK YOU! I FUCK YOU!

Walter Show me what you got. Nihilist. Dipshit with a nine-toed woman.

In a rage,Dieter charges.

Dieter IFUCK YOU! I FUCK YOU!

WALTER

hurls his leather satchel.

KIEFFER

Watching Dieter's charge,is caught off-guard. The bowling ball thuds into his chest andlifts him off his feet.

He falls back, his uzi clatteringaway.

WALTER

twists away as Dieterreaches him; grabs Dieter's head in both hands; draws Dieter'shead up £0 his mouth, which closes on Dieter's ear.

DUDE

He rushes Franz butdraws up short as Franz sends out karate kicks, his leatherpants squeaking and popping. Franz gives a loud cry with eachkick; the Dude leans back, throwing his arms up, evading the kicks.

WALTER

His jaw is still clampedon Dieter's ear. Dieter draws his saber against Walter's side,drawing blood.

Walter doesn't react tothe wound. Growling as Dieter screams, he worries his ear,waggling his head with his jaws clamped.

THE SABER

Dieter drops it.

DUDE

Awkwardly circling,evading Franz's kicks.

WALTER

Still worrying the ear. With a tearing sound his head and Dieter's separate.

Lil

Dieter, earless,screams:

Dieter IFUCK You! YOU CANNOT HURT ME! I BELIEF IN NUSSING!

Walter spitshis ear into his face.

DUDE

The Dudeand Franz, both now panting heavily,have yet to establishbody contact. Franz continues to kick.

Franz VEAKLING!

WALTER

drawsback his fist.

Dieter NUSSING!

Walter ANTI-SEMITE!

Bam!--Apowerhouse blow to the middle of his facedrops Dieter for thecount.

DUDEAND FRANZ

With a piercing shriek Franz finally summons thenerve to charge theDude, hands raised to deliver karateblows.

Ashe reaches the Dude--WHHAP--the boom box swingsinto frame to smashhim in the face. Its volume shootsup.

Walter bashes him a few more times over thehead. The music screechesto static, then quiet. Laid outnow, Franz too is quiet.

All quiet.

Walter, panting, looks around.

Walter We've got a man down, Dude.

With a hand pressed to his bleeding side he trots over toDonny,

who lies gasping on theground.

The Dude, also panting,rises and trots over.

Dude My God! Theyshot him, Walter!

Walter NoDude.

Dude They shotDonny!

Donny gasps for air. His eyes, wide, go from the Dude to Walter. One hand still clutcheshis eighteen dollars.

Walter Thereweren't any shots.

Dude Thenwhat's--

Walter It'sa heart attack.

Dude Wha.

Walter Call the medics, Dude.

Dude Wha. . .Donny--

Walter Hurry Dude. I'd go but I'm pumping blood. Might pass out.

The Dude runsinto the lanes.

Walter laysa reassuring hand on Donny's shoulder.

fine. We got help choppering in.

FADEOUT

HOLD INBLACK

THEDUDE AND WALTER

They sitside by side, forearms on knees, ina nondescript waitingarea. Walter bounces the fingertipsof one hand off thoseof the other. They sit. Theywait.

A tallthin man in a ‘conservativeblack suitenters. He eyes the Dude's bowling attire and sunglasses andWalter's army Surplus, but doesn't make an issue of it.

‘ Man Hello, gentlemen. You are thebereaved?

Dude Yeah man.

Man Francis Donnelly. Pleasedto meet you.

Dude Jeffrey Lebowski.

Walter Walter Sobchak.

Dude The Dude, actually. Iswhat, uh. . .

Donnelly Excuse me?

Dude Nothing.

Donnelly Yes. I understandyou're taking away the remains.

Walter Yeah.

Donnelly We have the urn. ..

He nods through a door. Another man in a black suit enters to carefully deposit a large silverurn on the desktop.

He is vaguely handing a largeleather folder across the desk to whomever wants to take it.

Walter Yeah.

‘He takes it, opens it, puts onreading glasses that sit halfway down his nose, and inspects thebill with his head pulled back for focus and cocked for concentration.

Silence.

The Dude smiles at Donnelly.

Donnelly gives back amortician's smile.

At length Walter holds thebill towards Donnelly, pointing.

| . What's this?

Donnelly That is for theurn.

Walter Don't need it. We're scattering the ashes.

Donnelly Yes, sowe were informed. However, we must of course transmitthe remains to you in a receptacle.

Walter This is ahundred and eighty dollars.

Donnelly Yes sir. Itis our most modestly priced receptacle.

Dude Well canwe--

Walter A hundredand eighty dollars?!

Donnelly They rangeup to three thousand.

Walter Yeah,but we're--

Dude Canwe just rent it from you?

Sir, this is a mortuary, not a rental house.

Walter We're scattering the fucking ashes!

Dude Walter--

Walter JUST BECAUSE WE'REBEREAVED DOESN'T MEAN WE'RE SAPS!

Donnelly Sir, please loweryour voice--

Dude Hey man, don'tyou have something else you could put it in?

Donnelly That is ourmost modestly priced receptacle.

Walter GODDAMNIT! ISTHERE A RALPH'S AROUND HERE?!

POINT DUME DAY

It is a high, wind-sweptbluff. Walter and the Dude walk towards the lip of the bluff. Parked in the background is one lonely car, Walter's.

Walter is carrying abright red coffee can with a blue plastic lid.

When they reach theedge the two men stand awkwardly for a beat. -Finally:

Walter I'llsay a few words.

The Dude claspshis hands in front of him. Walter clears his throat.

man. He was. . .He was one of us. He was a man who lovedthe outdoors, and bowling, and as a surferexplored the beaches of southern Californiafrom Redondo to Calabassos. And hewas an avid bowler. And a good friend. He died--hedied as so many of his genera- tion,before his time. In your wisdom you tookhim, Lord. As you took so many bright floweringyoung men, at Khe San and Lan Doc andHill 364. These young men gave their lives. And Donny too. Donny who. . . who

loved bowling. ..

Walter clears his throat.

in accordance with what we think your dying wishesmight well have been, we commit your mortal remainsto the bosom of. ..

Walter is peeling theplastic lid off the coffee can.

- thePacific Ocean, which you loved so well.

As he shakes out theashes: |

The wind hasblown all of the ashes into the Dude, standing just to the sideof and behind Walter.

The Dude stands,frozen.

Finishedeulogizing, Walter looks back.

He startsbrushing off the Dude with his hands.

Heretoforemotionless, the Dude finally explodes, slapping Walter's hands away.

Dude Goddamnit Walter! You fucking asshole!

Walter Dude! Dude, I'm sorry!

The Dude is near tears.

Dude You make everything a fucking travesty!

Walter Dude, I'm--it was an accident!

The Dude gives Walter a furious shove.

Dude What about that shit about Vietnam!

Walter Dude, I'm sorry--

Dude What the fuckdoes Vietnam have to do with anything! What the fuck were you talking about?!

Walter for the first timeis genuinely distressed, almost lost.

Walter Shit Dude,I'm sorry--

Dude You're a fuck,Walter!

He gives Walter aweaker shove. Walter seems dazed, then wraps his arms around theDude.

Walter Awww, fuckit Dude. Let's go bowling.

THE LANES

THE DUDEAND WALTER BOWLING

We watch eachof them glide across the floor, release, follow through--gracefully. We have never seen them bowl before. They are quitegood. Each wears a black armband on his bowling shirt.

BAR AREA

The Dudewalks up to the bar.

Dude Two oat sodas, Gary.

Gary Right. Good luck tomorrow.

Dude Thanks, man.

Gary Sorry to hear about Donny.

Dude Yeah. Well, you know, sometimes you eat the

bear, and,uh. ..-

"Tumbling Tumbleweeds"has come up on the jukebox, and The Stranger amblesup to the Dar.

The Stranger Howdy do, Dude.

Dude Oh; hey man, how are ya? I wondered if I'd see you again. |

The Stranger Wouldn't miss the semis. How things been goin'?

Dude Ahh, you know. Strikes and gutters, ups and downs.

The Stranger's eyes crinkle merrily.

The Stranger Sure, I gotcha.

The bartender has put two gleaming beers on the counter.

Dude Thanks, Gary. . . Take care, man, I gotta get back.

The Stranger Sure. Take it easy, Dude--I know that you will.

The Dude, leaving, nods:

Dude Yeah man. Well, you know, the Dude abides.

Gazing after him, The Stranger drawls, savoring the words:

The Stranger The Dude abides. ..

He gives his head a shake of appreciation, then looks intothe camera.

comfort in that. It's good knowin' he's out there, the Dude, takin' her easy for all us sinners. Shoosh. I sure hope he makes the

finals. Welp, that about does her, wraps her all up. Things seem to've worked out pretty good forthe Dude'n Walter, and it was a purt good story,dontcha think? Made me laugh to beat theband. Parts, anyway. Course--I — didn'tlike seein’ Donny go. But then, I happento know that there's a little Lebowski on theway. I guess that's the way the whole durnedhuman comedy keeps perpetuatin' it- self,down through the generations, westward thewagons, across the sands a time until-- aw, look at me, I'm ramblin' again. Wal, uh hope you folks enjoyed yourselves. .

He brusheshis hat brim with a fingertip as we begin topull

aS Catch ya further on down the trail.

As we Pullaway The Stranger swivels in to the bar. As his voice

Say friend,ya got any more a that good Sarsaparilla?.

al