Original subtitles

- Resync by Se7enOfNin9 for - - www.addic7ed.com -

[gentle music]

[animal chittering]

[slurping]

[groans]

Hello.

Tonight you're being granted the extreme privilege

of sharing in a rare...

[clears throat]

Cinematic treat:

the filmitization

of my best-selling novel The Spoils Before Dying.

When a French lens maker

propositioned me with the opportunity

to film The Spoils Before Dying

in order to showcase his new widescreen system

Bastille-O-Scope,

I jumped at the chance to experiment

within this emerging idiom,

forging a new path I dubbed,

but which unfortunately did not stick:

Post-Post-Modern French Neo-Fakism.

Oh, thank you, Doris.

You are an invaluable treasure.

Thank you.

I'm so sorry.

I have to see this,

but when it's time to eat, it's time to eat.

[grunts]

[growls]

Oh, my God.

Give me a break, right?

I'm not lucky enough to have sired a child,

but right now, this is my baby.

Now, what was that you were saying,

my little friend?

[beeping]

[triumphant music]

[dramatic music]

(Rock) Some people wait forever in the silence,

unsure if they will ever know a song.

I've dreamed of a song I could not hold.

This is my song.

[thrilling music]

[gunshots]

[people screaming]

[siren wailing]

[lively jazz music]

[horn honks]

They call me Rock Banyon.

I'm a jazz musician.

That's me, the cat on the 88s.

And now, ladies and gentlemen,

please give it up for the Topanga Songbird,

Ms. Fresno Foxglove.

[applause]

Haven't we met before

Some other place

Some other time?

Standing on a distant shore

Here we are

Past our prime

[gentle jazz music]

Haven't we danced before

In some Paris cafe?

We were lovers then

Always in love

To stay

Talking, living

Laughing some more

Time stood still

Ain't life grand

And rich and filled

With dazzling dreams?

Love is never lost or won

As long as we are trying

If we try

Then we will have

The spoils before dying

The spoils

Before

Dying

[applause]

I dare say, old bean, fantastic set.

- Quite splendid. - My esteemed manager...

Have you given any more thought to our little plan?

(Rock) Alistair St. Barnaby Bixby-Jones.

Busy. Well, I needn't remind you it's a real cooker/corker.

Rock with Strings. Just you...

(Rock) Poor Alistair.

He's been trying to get me

to make a jazz with strings album for years.

Real ten-ply gasser.

Now, we should strike whilst...

Hey, lover. Wardell and I got to split.

- You got another gig? - Yeah, baby.

Another gig, last minute.

You taking my sax player.

Oh, well, it's a... It's a money gig.

You dig?

You know I don't gig those money gigs.

Is it a big money gig or just a gig kind of gig?

Oh, it's a big money gig, all right, real big.

Biggity, big, big, big, you dig?

I don't really dig, but I dig.

- You dig? - Yeah, I dig.

I'm so glad that you dig.

You coming back?

Not tonight, lover.

Take this 20.

You sung real good tonight.

Keep it, Rock. I don't need the cash.

I'll dig you later.

Later, lover.

(Alistair) Speaking of digging big cash gigs...

(Rock) Fresno never said no to no 20 spot.

Hell, she never said no to a 5 spot.

Great show.

(Rock) I mean, she may have said no to a couple of 1 spots,

but who says yes to a 1 spot really?

This whole scene made no sense.

Should have followed her that night,

but I didn't.

[jazz music]

Instead, I dove soul-first into a bottle

of Bagpipes O'Toole brand vodka-flavored scotch

and attacked the ivories like I always do.

I went looking for that uncertain thing

that answers all uncertainty

hidden somewhere in the notes of the piano,

because I'm a jazz musician,

and all answers are hidden in those 88 keys.

I played like a madman well into the night.

[frantic music]

I might have taken some pills as well.

Yeah, I definitely took some pills.

(woman) Can you see me?

Open up. Downtown PD.

Come on, Banyon. We know you're in there.

[dramatic music]

Open up. Downtown PD.

Come on, Banyon. We know you're in there.

Who'd I kill, Officer?

- You Rock Banyon? - Never sure.

You want I should kick your teeth in?

- I'll be Rock Banyon. - Where were you last night?

- At the Swing Yard. - After that.

- There is no after that. - Let's wrap him up.

(Rock) Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up.

Now, I said I was at the Swing Yard all night.

Hey, missy, wake up.

She don't know nothing about this.

Is that right, missy? You don't nothing?

What should I know?

Maybe that sleeping with a jazz musician

can get you in a lot of trouble in this town.

A lot of trouble suits me fine.

- Let's haul 'em both in. - No, wait.

Hold up. Listen, now.

I had a few drinks, and, uh, I, uh, took some pills.

The bottom line is, we blacked out.

- Yeah, some blackout. - I don't remember anything.

Get your clothes on. We're going downtown.

[siren wailing]

(Rock) Downtown was cheapo police talk for the police station.

[camera shutter clicks]

I wish you guys would tell me what this is all about.

Like you don't know, jazzbo.

How about a clue?

How well did you know her?

Red, the broad I'm sleeping with?

We ask the questions around here, piano man.

What are we talking about?

We're talking about Fresno Foxglove.

[scoffs]

What that girl get herself mixed up into now?

I'll tell you, buddy boy.

She got herself mixed up into being dead.

[ominous music]

Take a look, swinger.

(Rock) There she was,

the Topanga Songbird, Fresno Foxglove,

almost like I saw her the night before,

except now she wasn't singing.

She wouldn't sing ever again.

As I flipped through those photos

one after the other,

a strange feeling came over me.

Wait, I didn't... Oh, yeah, sorry, that's...

That's an unrelated personal matter.

(Rock) A feeling I hadn't had since the Army.

Someone was putting the clamps on me,

and I didn't like it.

Did you know her?

We...

were...

lovers once.

But you found out she was two-timing you,

and you shot her.

Hold the boat.

We have witnesses saying you left the club

right after Fresno.

You wait a minzo.

Tracked her down and you shot her.

- Crime of passion... simple. - Give me a second.

If you just killed her,

we probably wouldn't have even come looking for you.

- Who cares about a jazz singer? - I wouldn't kill her.

- I loved her. - Yeah, jealousy's a bitch.

There's no jealousy in jazz.

The Songbird and I were in the same band for...

You're not listening, Jazzman.

Nobody gives a Norman Mailer flying fug

about Fresno Foxglove.

- Who's the guy? - Name's Wilbur Stygamian.

Ring a bell?

The Iditarod dog-sledding champion?

Wrong-o, captain. Try the world-class scientist.

I had nothing to do with this.

Oh, that's right. I forgot.

You blacked out.

Well, next time you black out, it might be permanent.

A first-class dirt nap.

A free ride in the pine box derby.

Yeah, you'll get up... Uh, be dead.

- Sorry, don't have it. - Give me some time.

I can... I can prove my innocence. I...

Maybe I could do something.

I could find something out.

I mean, what have you got to lose?

- Maybe you would skip town. - With this mug?

Everyone knows me.

Where am I gonna hide?

Oh, yeah. Big shot jazz musician...

Three days, Jazzman. Three days.

Two days. We have two days.

No, counting today.

Well, three total, I guess.

- I need more time. - Yeah?

(Donwelly) Well, clock's ticking, Jazzman.

Make like a drum kit... Beat it.

Just to be clear, though, three days total.

The rest of today, tomorrow, midday the next day.

Get out of here! Clock's ticking, Jazzman.

[door opens and closes]

[jazz music]

The police were here searching for you.

They found me.

Thanks.

Say, Beatrice, you were here last night.

- Oui. - How long was I here?

Are you in trouble with the police?

- Maybe. - There you are, old Chapperson.

You split the scene and left it mean,

oldest of oldest bean.

I booked you on Artie Mann's Late Night Jazzboree.

- Cancel it. - Of course.

I'll just pick up the blower,

call up Artie Mann, tell him to... are you mad?

You don't cancel on Artie Mann.

I said cancel it.

Fresno is dead.

Dead?

Is this some jazz lingo

that I henceforth hereafter shan't not have known?

- I said she's dead! - You're bloody serious.

You still got that old motorbike?

Yes, motorbike in perfect condition.

Drove it here tonight. Parked it out by the curb.

Good, because I'm gonna need it.

[bluesy rock music]

(Rock) I zoomed out of Los Angeles

like a hummingbird on Benzedrine

with three things on my mind.

One, two people were dead,

and the cops pegged me to take the fall.

Two, I definitely was not going to do a strings album.

And three, could it be possible

that it was me that killed Fresno Foxglove?

I didn't know.

All I knew was,

they wouldn't care who killed her in Mexico City.

Se?or Rock Banyon.

That's the name my mother gave me.

I saw you tickle the ivories once in New York

at Bird Land.

Was I good?

You were very good.

Are you heading into actual Mexico City?

Haven't decided yet.

Do you have a cigarette?

Ah, Boghei. French-like.

- You have no cigarette case. - Sorry.

You have not come to recently own a new golden cigarette case?

Say, what did you say your name was again?

DeLeon.

Salizar Vasquez Saint Germain Vasquez DeLeon.

Are you going to play the jazz in Mexico City?

You ask a lot of questions.

I was only asking because the best club in Mexico City

is called the Club Jaz-Tec.

There is a woman who sings there you might know.

Yeah? Who?

I believe she's an old friend of yours,

Miss Delores DeWinter.

[jazz music]

(Delores)

No need to see a doctor

To try and fix my pain

I just need something strong

To help me make the scene

Tablets, pills, and powders

And tinctures and bags

Ooh

I do not, I do not discriminate

Just please give me what you have

Give me booze and pills

Booze and pills

More pills and booze and pills

Give me

You know what I'm asking for

Please, somebody

Get me a drink.

Raymond, can I get a...

Please, just a big glass of...

Booze

Can I get some booze and

Booze and

Don't forget the pills

I'm still singing about the pills

Actually, I prefer the pills

Give me some booze and

Ooh, ah

Give me some booze and pills and pills and

Pills and pills and pills and

Give me some booze

Give me some booze

Give me

Give me some booze and

Give me some

Please, someone get me some booze

There's a reason why

I'm singing about

Booze and pills

I'd love some

Booze

And

Pills

Oh, yeah

Give me some booze and pills

Ooh-ooh, ah

Much obliged. Thank you so much.

Until next time, unless, of course,

you want an encore. [door closes]

[clapping slowly]

[dramatic music]

Well, that's what you're in for:

jazz, adventure,

cats, coppers,

dead people, pills, and booze.

The list goes on.

New twists and turns emerge like snakes

and crazy straws bent by the hands of fate.

Plot points become confused,

alleyways of emerging new points in time

as they do in real life

and then resolve themselves algebraically in the new dawn,

unfolding like Moroccan tablecloths

in unconventional ways.

What... what am I talking about?

Seriously. [chuckles]

I got lost in my words.

I sometimes make words without tethering them

to convention.

Oh, oh.

Where are my heart pills?

Do they even make heart pills anymore?

Jesus, I need a drink.

[grunts]

Tune in next time

for more Spoils Before Dying.

Even that didn't sound right.

Terry, bring my cardigan in.

I'm feeling a slight draft.

Terry!

My cardigan!

Now!

What?

Oh. I forgot.

Terry is no longer on the payroll.

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