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turning to page one
turning to page one
Tony waits, sweaty and mosquito bitten. The radio crackles.
RADIO VOICE
How's that Injun round-up going, Tony?
TONY
Fuck you, Barry, you fuckin'...
Rustling near the parked cars. Tony tenses. Laroche steps from the swamp with the Indians, who haul the pillowcases.
TONY (cont'd)
We got poachers.
(into the radio, pleased)
We got fuckin' poachers, Barry. Ha!
Tony jumps into the truck and turns it around.