Roman's Holiday/Script

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Script

Ashley: You're here. You're here. Oh man... Johnny...

Johnny: What's the matter, sugar?

Ashley: Oh, Johnny. I fucked up. I fucked up real bad.

Johnny: What'd you do?

Ashley: I messed up, baby... promise you won't be mad.

Johnny: Why, what'd you do?

Ashley: I'm an addict. I need help.

Johnny: What the fuck did you do?

Kidnapper: You must be Johnny.

Johnny: Who are you?

Kidnapper:My name is not important.

Johnny: What is this?

Kidnapper: Your woman here owes Dimitri Rascalov a lot of money.

Johnny: Okay.

Kidnapper: We need you to do us favor.

Johnny: What?

Kidnapper: We need you to kidnap someone for us.

Johnny: Well, I'm not in the kidnapping business, dude.

Kidnapper: And I'm not in the dude business, dude. You either do it, or junky gets killed. Not difficult decision, even for a man stuck in 1960s time warp. It's easy. You grab him and deliver him to warehouse, off Lompoc in Bohan Industrial.

Johnny: And this'll pay off her debts?

Kidnapper: Well... it pays off interest.

Johnny: Wonderful...

Kidnapper: The name of the man we want is Roman Bellic.

Johnny: Yeah.

Kidnapper: He runs a cab business, but hangs around some backroom gambling place on Dillon Street in Schottler.

Johnny: I got it.

Kidnapper: You find him, you take him...Now, run along.

Johnny: Ashley you gotta stop fucking things up... Fuck!

Dialogue

(Johnny leaves Ashley's apartment and calls Malc)

Johnny: Dude, you busy? I got something and I don't need it getting round the clubhouse. I'll owe you, brother.

Malc: What you need Johnny?

Johnny: I need to snatch some guy name of uhh, Roman Bellic. Runs a cab firm, in debt to some Russians. You down? I'll pay.

Malc: Uhh, aight. I'm up on Y in Northwood. See you in a minute.

(Johnny meets Malc in Northwood)

Johnny: Nice rick rocket you got there. It come with a fortune cookie?

Malc: As a matter of face it did. Told me I was gonna meet some 1950s lookin' motherfucker who preferred rusty oil dripping junk to hi-tech precision machinery.

Johnny: Rusty oil dripping American junk.

Malc: Bitch please... your patriotism is making you ignorant. Anyway, we gonna go grab somebody. We need four wheels, I got that.

Johnny: Alright man, but I'm driving the cage.

Malc: Now you sure you know how?

Johnny: Watch and learn my friend. Watch and fuckin' learn.

(If Johnny destroys Malc's bike)

Malc: Oh, shit man. Hell no.

(Johnny and Malc get in the car)

Malc: So, we got a plan, Johnny boy?

Johnny: Of course we've got a plan. We snatch this guy, deliver him to some other guys, then we pay ourselves on the back for doing a great job.

Malc: Sounds simple as shit.

Johnny: If you want Wingit Presentation before every job you do, you're running with the wrong crowd.

Malc: Who is this guy? Why you want him snatched?

Johnny: I dunno, I'm doin' this as a favor for a friend.

Malc: Huh, huh. Must be a good friend.

Johnny: It's complicated.

Malc: Oh, it's like that, is it, now? She like your girlfriend or something? Nah, nah, that's cool. I'm feeling that. Things is coming together, starting to make sense now.

Johnny: She ain't my old lady, alright?

Malc: Sure, sure she ain't. That's why you running all over town trying to snatch a fool up, huh? Please.

Johnny: She's a friend and she's in trouble. I believe in looking out for people you've been close to. You and your boys might ride, but you don't know nothing about brotherhood.

Malc: Shit. I know about brothers, but I know about bitches as well. And this here job - smells like a bitch to me. It got bitch-stink all over it, son.

Johnny: Thank God I'm hanging out with another two-bit street philosopher.

Malc: She playing you? She in trouble?

Johnny: I don't know. Both maybe. Fuck it. Shut up for a second. You know, Malc, I think you've got unresolved women issues. Were you close to your mother growing up? Did she let you down?

Malc: We ain't kidnapping nobody because of my mamma, Johnny. It's your lady friend getting us to do this. Think on that, son.

(If Johnny gets a wanted level)

Malc: Shit dude, we got to get five-o off our ass.

Malc: Much as I like rolling with an escort, we really got to lose these fucking oinkers.

Malc: Shit's hot, Johnny. Get these motherfuckers off us.

(Johnny drives to the gambling den and look for Roman)

'Johnny: I hope this motherfucker hurries up and loses his money so we can snatch him. We're on the clock here.

or:

Johnny: Okay, now all we got to do is wait for this guy to come out of there. I'm hoping he ain't too good at poker. Hell, if we're here because of his debts, he can't exactly be the Buffet Car.

Johnny: Alright. I'm guessing that's him.

or:

Johnny: That's got to be him. Come on.

Johnny: There he is. Let's get him.

(The two find Roman)

Roman: Hello.

Malc: Aye, yo man. How you doin'?

Roman: Please, gentlemen. The men in there just took my money. I can't get robbed twice in one day. What do you want the shirt off my back? Come on.

Johnny: We're not robbing you, we're taking you. Your chips've been cashed, chubby.

Roman: No! Wait.

Johnny: Get in there and shut up!

Roman: Somebody. Stop. Somebody! Help!

Malc: Shut your fat ass up.

Johnny: We gotta take the fat man to a warehouse in Bohan.

or:

Johnny: How do you like Bohan, Mr. Bellic? Some pals are waiting for you there.

Johnny: You're wanted in Bohan, fatty.

(Johnny beings to drive towards the warehouse)

Johnny: All you Europeans got the same fucking accent.

or:

Johnny: How come all the Slavs in this city wear shitty tracksuits, man?

Johnny: You know, this ain't the first grungy European I've met recently.

Roman: Please. Please. I'll pay you anything.

Johnny: I think he's trying to say something, Malc.

Roman': I can get money, I promise.

Malc: I don't know, I ain't hearing shit.

Roman: Okay. Okay. My cousin, he has money. He will pay you.

Malc: Oh, I get it. I think the man's trying to give us some money. We let him go and he'll come back with a bag full of unmarked twenties, right?

Roman: Yes. Yes. Exactly. Exactly.

Johnny: You mean, he's like trying to bribe us?

Roman: Yeah.

Johnny: I hope he knows that you and me are men of integrity, Malc. And that we'd find something like that real insulting.

Malc: Did you mean to insult us, Mr. Roman Bellic? I sure hope not.

Roman: Help! Help! Help me! Help me!

Johnny: Malc, tell this gentlemen what my kind of people do to guys who try to buy their way out.

Malc: Just so you know who you dealing with, Mr. Bellic. This is one screwed up dumb redneck motherfucker.

Roman: Oh lord, please help me.

Malc: Hey now listen, I do mean motherfucker in the most literal sense. Serious incest motherfucker. Fucking you up the ass with a barb wire dick would be a pleasure for this man.

Roman: Lord, I am sorry for all the women I've chased, the money I have wasted, the internet porn.

Malc: Yeah, this biker dude is twisted as all hell, man. By the way how many guys you killed, son?

Johnny: You mean, like, this year or in my whole career?

Malc: Aight just this year, man, we ain't got time for all that shit.

Johnny: It's been a good year, you know?

Roman: Oh Lord, I apologize for sleeping with those twins.

Johnny: You should apologize for that smell. You shat yourself or something?

Malc: God damn.

Roman: Lord, I am sorry for shitting myself, and for laughing at Brucie's balls.

(If Roman leaves the car)

Roman: Come on Roman, escape!

or:

Roman: Run for it, Roman. Run!

Roman: You'll never take me alive!

(Johnny chases after him)

Johnny: Get back in the fucking car.

or:

Johnny: Get your ass back here.

Johnny: Get back here!

Roman: If I close my eyes they can't see me, if I close my eyes they can't see me.

Roman: I think I'm having a heart attack. I feel numb. Oh God, oh God.

Roman: If only I was fitter.

Roman: I shouldn't have eaten those burgers.

Roman: Head for the hills, Roman. Come on!

Roman: Move, you fat, stupid legs, move!

(Johnny threatens him)

Johnny: Get back in the car.

or:

Johnny: You ain't a difficult target to hit, Mr. Bellic.

Johnny: You want to die, fat man?

Johnny: Come back here!

Johnny: Bellic, I wanted to kidnap you, now I might kill ya.

Roman: I nearly had you, buddy. You got to admit that?

or:

Roman: Alright, you win. I know when to fold my hand.

Roman: Okay, I couldn't run any further if I wanted to.

(Johnny walks Roman back to the car)

Johnny: We ain't got all day.

Johnny: Move them fat little legs of yours.

Johnny: A quick kidnapping's a good kidnapping. Come on.

Johnny: Sooner you get over there the sooner this will all be over with.

Johnny: Come on. Get back in the car.

Malc: come on, piggly-wiggly. We need some grease or something?

or:

Malc: Squeeze your fat ass in there.

Malc: If it was a box of donuts you'd get your fat ass in there.

Johnny: Squeeze in, fatso.

or:

Johnny: Get in there, you fat fuck.

Johnny: Get in, fat man.

(Johnny and Roman get back in the car)

Johnny: For future reference, Malc, it might be worth locking your hostages into a car.

or:

Johnny: We're lucky that the fat man can't run. Next time, lock the damn hostage up.

Malc: He ain't gonna make a play like that again. Believe that.

or:

Malc: Alright, man. I'll make sure it don't repeat itself.

Malc: I got a leash on him now, don't worry 'bout a thing.

Johnny: You pull a stunt like that again, and it's over for you, bacon ass.

or:

Johnny: Do that again and you're a dead man. A fat dead man.

Johnny: I'll fucking kill you if you run again, fatty.

(If Johnny exits the car)

Malc: Johnny, man, this job was your idea. What are you doing?

Malc: Ummm, Johnny, my dude, we're going to do this or what? What the fuck is wrong with you?

Malc: Where you off to, Johnny boy? We kind of in the middle of something right here, man.

(If Johnny calls Roman's taxi firm)

Roman: Hello, this is Bellic and Bellic Enterprises. What can I assist you with?

Johnny: Is Roman Bellic there?

Roman: Ummm... ahhhh... I... Mr. Bellic is very busy man. An important and busy man. I think he's on a hot date or something. What is it you need from him?

Johnny: We got two college coeds over here and, they're in need of a Limo'. And I'm told this Bellic guy's the man for that kind of work.

Roman: Well, in that case I'll... I mean, ah... We'll try to contact Mr. Bellic and have him come as soon as possible.

(Roman arrives in one of his taxis)

Roman: Ladies, ladies, ladies. You have got yourself the best Limo driver in the whole of Liberty City. I'll take you through the bright lights of Star Junction, past the glamorous shops of Middle Park West, and, if you're lucky, you might end the tour with a look at the finest specimen of manhood in the entire metropolitan area. Wait, where are the ladies? Who are you?

Malc: Get in the car, fat man. Your ass has just been snatched.

Johny: Don't try nothing, chubby. It ain't like you're a difficult target to hit.

Roman: Help me!

(Johnny takes Roman to the warehouse)

Johnny: Somebody looking for a fat Slav with a bladder problem?

Kidnapper: So this is Roman Bellic? Not such a tough guy, eh? What is all this fuss about his cousin?

Johnny: Listen, buddy. Ashley is square with you now. So do me a favor, go easy on the fat man. I've seen some of those bodies you people dump in the Humboldt.

Malc: Easy, Johnny... you saw the shit stains in the back seat. He's scared enough.

Kidnapper: What happens to this shithead is none of your concern. You, come with me.

(The kidnapper walks away with Roman)

Malc: Shit, Johnny. Yo I gotta bounce. Be easy, man.

Alternate dialogue

Malc: Roman Bellic. What the fuck kind of name is that?

Johnny: I don't know, Greek?

Malc: Sounds like it's Eastern Europe or some shit.

Johnny: Greek's in the East of Europe.

Malc: Yeah, that's what I said. Maybe Italian or Rome or some shit.

Johnny: All the immigrants you meet seem to be from Russia. What happened to the days when it was guys coming across from Mexico?

Malc: Or in your case, guys coming from a 1950s time warp.

Johnny: That's good, Malc. Real good.

Malc: Why are all you bikers racist, just like the Angels of Death?

Johnny: The Lost aren't like those Deadbeats. Take a look at my brothers, man. We're more like equal opportunity haters - we hate assholes and fools, wherever they're from.

Malc: Oh, wait. You hate me because where I'm from? Man, that's cold. I knew you were a fucking racist. I fucking knew it. Stop the car.

Johnny: Malc, man, come on.

Malc: Yo, lighten up, Johnny boy. I'm just fucking with you son.

Johnny: So, yeah this guy we're snatching isn't the only European-type dude I've come across recently.

Malc: Is that a fact?

Johnny: Worked with his other guy, he could handle himself. Maybe this guy will be the same.

Malc: Most Europeans are gay, man. That's why they wear them tight-ass jeans.

Johnny: Is that a fact? I'll bare that in mind, Malc.

(Johnny and Malc take Roman to the warehouse)

Roman: Ahhhh. Help me. Someone. I'm too young to die. Please

Johnny: Shut the fuck up, you fat prick.

Malc: Yeah, shut the fuck up. Ya heard?

Roman: Jesus, help me! Somebody help me!

Malc: Shit, Jay. Can you pop this motherfucker and shut him up?

Roman: Oh no, please.

Johnny: Can't you see I'm trying to drive here? You fucking pop him.

Malc: Man, I just got me this nine. I don't wanna go puttin' no bodies on it already. But shit, I like this gun.

Roman: Why? Why?

Johnny: I'll buy you a new one. Just shut this dude up.

Roman: I'll be quiet, I promise.

Malc: I told you, I like this gun. I ain't getting no bodies on it. Not today. And not this Rusty Brown's munching, quadruple Bleeder Burger eating motherfucker.

Roman: Help me! Help me!

Johnny: Just pop the fucker. And you can get the bullets outta him afterwards and no one's gonna trace that shit back to you.

Roman: No, no! Please!

Malc: Hell no, I don't wanna get my hands all dirty and shit. Get gravy all over my new manicured fingers.

Johnny: Man, can you smell that?

Malc: Dammit, dude done pissed his self. That shit ain't right.

Johnny: From the smell, it ain't just piss. I'm glad I ain't sitting back there with him.

Malc: Damn you better not be right. What's wrong with you, man? We was only joshing you. Tell him, Johnny.

Roman: Huh?

Johnny: We're just meant to kidnap you. If you were meant to be going in the ground, you wouldn't be conversing with us gentlemen like this. Pull yourself together man.

Malc: Shit.

Post mission phone call

Ashley: Baby?

Johnny: Those Russians have got their guy. You got lucky, but you got to control yourself, Ashley. The ice got you into this mess.

Ashley: I know I am, Johnny. And you know what's the best thing about me? You. Call me, okay?

Failing the mission

(Johnny calls Ashley)

Ashley: Hey.

Johnny: Hey there, babe. Something went wrong. This job isn't happening. Stay safe.

Ashley: Damn, Johnny. I thought you cared about me. You can't leave me like this. Johnny...

Roman dies

Malc: Well, uh, that kidnapping - didn't go too well, did it?

Johnny: Nah. A living hostage is one of the prerequisites for a successful snatching, ain't it?

Malc: Yeah this has got to be kind of awkward, man. I'm going to slip off. Peace.

(Johnny calls Ashley)

Ashley: Hey babe.

Johnny: Ashley, you need to tell your Russian loan shark that the guy they're after is dead.

Ashley: Oh shit, Johnny. Shit. What happened? I thought you were looking out for me. They'll turn me out. I don't know what I'm going to do. Shit.

Malc dies

Johnny: Hit the road, fat man. I'm not in the kidnapping mood right now.

Roman: Thank you, sir. Thank you.

(Roman runs away, Johnny calls Ashley)

Ashley: Hey.

Johnny: Hey there, babe. Something went wrong. This job isn't happening. Stay safe.

Ashley: Damn, Johnny. I thought you cared about me. You can't leave me like this. Johnny...

Roman escapes

Malc: Well, uh, that kidnapping - didn't go too well, did it?

Johnny: How did a fat motherfucker like that get away from two young fit dudes like us?

Malc: Yeah this has got to be kind of awkward, man. I'm going to slip off. Peace.

Malc's car destroyed

Malc: Man, I just jacked that car?

Johnny: Yeah we just stole this guy, too. But I guess we gotta let him go. I'll be seeing the both of you.

Roman: Thank you, gentlemen. Thank you.

Malc's car destroyed before kidnapping

Malc: How the fuck we meant to snatch a man-up when we ain't got nothing to put him in?

Johnny: Yeah you're right man, we ain't snatching that guy today. If he only knew how close he came though. Thanks, Malc.