written by Quentin Tarantino
(Freddy paces back and forth, in and out of the frame, reciting the anecdote, having to look down at the page occassionally, stumbling around the words.)
Freddy: ...this was during the Los Angeles marijuana drought of 1986. I still had a connection. Which was insane, 'cause people couldn't get weed anyfuckinwhere then. Anyway, I had a connection with this hippie chick up in Santa Cruz and all my friends knew it. And they'd give me a call and say, "Hey, Freddy-
(Holloway (Randy Brooks) gives Freddy an "error" sound: Bzzzz! Freddy corrects himself.)
"Hey, DUDE, you gettin' some, you think you could get me some too?" They knew I smoked, so they'd ask me to buy a little for them when I was buying for myself. But it got to be...(stumbles)...got to be that everytime I bought some weed, I was buyin for four or five different people. Finally I said, "Fuck this shit." I'm makin this bitch rich. She didn't have to do jack shit, she never even had to meet these people. I was doin' all the work.
(Here he exits, and then scene changes. Freddy is considerably better at reading the story. He's improvising a lot now, "making it his own.") ...then that got to be a pain in the ass. People called me on the phone all the fuckin time. I couldn't rent a fuckin tape without six fucking phone calls interrupting me. "Hey, when's the next time you're gettin some?" "Motherfucker, I'm tryin to watch 'The Lost Boys'-- when I have some, I'll let you know." And then these rinky-dink pot heads come by--there's my friends and everything, but still, y'know. I got all my shit laid out in sixty dollar bags. They don't want sixty dollars worth. They want ten dollars worth. Breaking it up is a major fuckin pain in the ass. I don't even know what ten dollars looks like.
Now this was a very weird situation, 'cause I don't know if you remember back in '86, there was a major fuckin drought. Nobody had anything. People were livin on resin and smokin the wood in their pipes for months. And this chick had a bunch, and she was beggin me to sell it. So I told her I wasn't gonna be Joe the Pot Man anymore. But I would take a little bit and sell it to my close, close, close friends. She agreed to that, and said we'd keep the same arrangement as before, ten percent and free pot for me, as long as I helped her out that weekend. She had a brick of weed she was sellin, and she didn't want to go to the buy alone...
(The scene has changed again recently, and now Freddy is around a table in a bar, telling the story to Joe (Lawrence Tierney), Mr. White (Harvey Kietel), and Nice Guy Eddie (Chris Penn).
Freddy: ...Her brother usually goes with her, but he's in county unexpectedly.
Mr.White: What for?
Freddy: Traffic tickets gone to warrant. They stopped him for something, found the warrants on 'im, took 'im to county. Now, she doesn't want to walk around alone with all that weed. I don't wanna do this, I have a bad feeling about it, but she keeps askin me, keeps askin me, keeps askin, finally I said okay 'cause I'm sick of listening to it. Well, we're picking this guy up at the train station.
Eddie: You're picking the buyer up at the train station with the weed on you?
Freddy: Yeah, the guy needed it right away. Don't ask me why. So we get to the train station, and we're waitin for the guy. Now I'm carrying the weed in one of those carry-on bags, and I gotta take a piss. So I tell the connection I'll be right back, I'm goin' to the little boys room... ...So I walk into the men's room, and who's standing there? ...four Los Angeles County Sheriffs and a German Shepherd.
Eddie: They're waiting for you?
Freddy: No. They were just a bunch of cops hangin out in the men's room, talkin. When I walked through the door they all stopped what they were talking about and looked at me.
Mr. White: That's hard, man. That's a fuckin hard situation.
Freddy: The German Shepherd starts barkin'. He's barkin' at me. I mean it's obvious he's barkin' at me. Every nerve ending, all of my senses, the blood in my veins, everything I has was screaming, "Take off, man, just bam, get the fuck outta there!" Panic hit me like a bucket of water. First there was the shock of it--BAM, right in the face! Then I'm just standin there drenched in panic. And all these sherrifs are loking at me, they know, man, they can smell it sure as that fucking dog can. They can smell it on me!
Cop: (to German shepherd) Shut up!
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