The Protagonist goes to the golf club. After getting dressed, they meet Franklin at the back of the clubhouse. |
Franklin: |
Hey, you made it. Nice threads. 'Ey, how do I look? ... Let's roll. |
They walk out to the golf course. |
Franklin: |
'Ey, you know in Vinewood, this is where all the deals get done... but if you really want in on it, you gotta play the game. Aight, look, follow my lead, 'cause these dudes straight moguls. |
He points out one guy getting out of a golf cart near the 4th tee. |
Franklin: |
You see that skinny one right there? That's DJ Pooh. That's our plug, homie. |
Meanwhile at the 4th tee, Dr. Dre takes a swing. He gives the ball a look. It comes to rest a few yards from the hole. |
Dr. Dre: |
Nah, I'm going again. |
Dr. Dre: |
I can do better. |
Jimmy: |
Is this what we got all dressed up for? |
Jimmy: |
I knew I was gonna hate this. I don't like sports that you can snack when you play. Next time, we're going roller skating. |
Dr. Dre laughs as he sets up his next shot. DJ Pooh approaches Franklin and the Protagonist. |
DJ Pooh: |
Hey, good to see you, bro. |
Franklin: |
Hey, what's up, Pooh. |
DJ Pooh: |
Man, who the fuck is this? |
Franklin: |
Shit, it's my business associate. |
DJ Pooh: |
Associate? Shit getting real. |
DJ Pooh: |
Come on. Now you're sure about this? |
Franklin: |
Hell yeah, I'm sure. Shit, we ready, we set up, we ready to go, dog. |
DJ Pooh: |
Alright, but y'all better deliver, fuck my shit up too. |
They approach Dr. Dre, who is now picking up blades of grass and dropping them to check the wind. |
DJ Pooh: |
Yo, Dre! This is Franklin Clinton. This is his associate. They're gonna help us get that thing done, man. |
Franklin: |
What's up, dog, appreciate you for havin' us. |
Dr. Dre: |
Not a problem. Just gimme a sec. |
He takes another swing with his golf club. The ball comes to rest inches away from the hole. He groans. |
Dr. Dre: |
You know what, I'll take a Mulligan. |
Jimmy: |
That was a perfect shot. You could sneeze and blow that in. |
Dr. Dre: |
Nah, nah, hold up. I got this. |
He sets another ball on the tee. |
Jimmy: |
This is a stupid fucking game. The things I do for a hit record. |
Dr. Dre: |
So wait... you're the one that's gonna find the phone, right? |
Two other golfers approach. |
Eugene: |
Excuse me? Mister... er... Young, is it? Look, we're gonna play through, okay? Give you plenty of time to finish up... whatever this is. |
Dr. Dre: |
You're gonna what? |
Jimmy: |
Come on, we'll just be a second. Right, Dre? |
Eugene: |
Play through. We're gonna play through. |
Dr. Dre: |
Listen. You ain't playin' through shit, motherfuckers. |
Eugene: |
Oh, very nice. That's very nice. |
Raymond: |
This place has gone to crap. |
Jimmy: |
What did you just say? |
Raymond: |
You heard what I said. How are we supposed to play a round with this bullshit? This used to be a club for pros. |
DJ Pooh: |
Hey, man, back the fuck up and shut your bitch ass up. |
Raymond: |
No, screw this. I still have friends on the board. My wife's having an affair with the owner! Every single one of you is gonna be blackballed before you reach the ninth tee. |
Raymond: |
Yeah, that's right! Come on, Eugene! Me and you are gonna make some calls and see what's what. |
They go back to their golf carts. |
Jimmy: |
What the fuck was that about? |
DJ Pooh: |
Man the fuck if I know. |
Dr. Dre: |
With everything that's going on in my life right now, this is the last fucking thing I need. |
Jimmy: |
She's having an affair with the owner? I gotta call this guy. |
Dr. Dre: |
Nah, nah, nah, nah. Fuck that and fuck this. If these two guys have what it takes to find my property, then they can definitely take care of this shit. |
Franklin: |
We got you, homie. |
Dr. Dre: |
Good. 'Cause I'm done with swinging these fucking clubs, man. |
He snaps the club he's holding in half. |
Jimmy: |
What are you doing? |
Dr. Dre: |
Listen, take care of these fucking assholes before they make trouble for me and if you do, you can handle my business. My phone wan't lost, man, it was stolen. And there's material on that fuckin' phone that I really care about. Unreleased material, you know what I'm saying? And if you know anything about me, you know that I don't put anything out before it's ready. And I'm dead-ass serious about that. |
Franklin: |
We got you, homie. |
Dr. Dre: |
Come on, guys, let's get the fuck outta here. I'm getting agitated. |
Jimmy: |
You were kinda pissed off before they said anything. You really need to try something for your mood. |
Dr. Dre: |
I am... it's called golf. |
Jimmy: |
Well, golf ain't working. Next time, we're gonna go skate at the rink. |
Meanwhile, Franklin and the Protagonist approach the other golfers. |
Franklin: |
'Ey, you two bitches can't wait for the legend to shoot his shot? |
The golfers get in golf carts and drive away. |
Franklin: |
Where you going? I thought you liked to talk! |
Franklin and the Protagonist get in another golf cart to chase them. |
The Protagonist must now ram the other golfers' carts to intimidate them. |
Franklin: |
'Ey, get after 'em, man, let's go! |
Raymond: |
We have a serious problem here! |
Eugene: |
I know, Raymond! Just drive! |
Franklin: |
'Ey, we ain't gotta kill no-one here. We just gotta get 'em to stop and put a beatin' on they ass. Now ram them motherfuckers! ... Right there, 'ey, right there! |
Raymond: |
Eugene, what do I do? |
Franklin: |
'Ey, let's do it for the doctor. Come on. |
Franklin: |
'Ey, come on, man, fuck with hime some more! |
Eugene: |
You're paying for that! |
Franklin: |
Is this motherfucker goin' through the movie studio? |
Eventually, Eugene (Golfer A) is fully intimidated. |
Franklin: |
Hey, look, lay off a little bit. We need this asshole in one piece so we can have a little talk, a'ight? Follow him and let's see where he ends up. |
Franklin: |
'Ey, now this the day they goin' be talking about when F Clinton and Partner is listed on the BAWSAQ 500. |
Franklin: |
'Ey, you and me landing clients the hard way. Man, I told you this where the deals get done... I didn't think it'd be like this, though. |
They follow Eugene to the end of Del Perro Pier, where Eugene gets out of the golf cart and runs a short distance. |
Franklin: |
There he is! We got his ass! |
They stop near Eugene, who is laying on the floor. They approach him, the Protagonist armed with a golf club. |
Franklin: |
Shit, a'ight, partner, 'ey, get your swing warmed up! Now let's play! |
The Protagonist gets to within swinging distance of Eugene. |
Franklin: |
'Ey, c'mon, let's fuck his ass up a little bit. |
Eugene: |
Hey, hey, come on, calm down! |
Franklin: |
'Ey, c'mon, let's explain some shit to this lil' bitch. |
Eugene: |
Now, let's just be reasonable... What's your price? |
Franklin: |
Nah, motherfucker, it's only one language yo' ass goin' understand. |
Eugene: |
Take it easy. I apologize. You hear that? I apologize! |
Franklin: |
Man, c'mon, let's beat this motherfucker ass. |
The Protagonist hits Eugene a few times with the golf club. |
Franklin: |
Nah, compliments of Dre, motherfucker. Uh-uh, make sure he understand! 'Ey, this place under new management, you understand me? Fore! |
Eugene: |
Okay, okay, yeah... |
Eugene: |
- Tell Mr. Young... I-I'm sorry! It won't happen again...
- Call Mr. Young... tell him... I'll resign my membership... today!
|
Franklin: |
A'ight, a'ight! I think he done some thinkin'. Now let me call Dre right quick. (He calls Dr. Dre.) Hey, Dre. We took care of that thing. ... Nah, you won't be hearing from them no more. But what about that other thing? ... Alright, cool, look, send it over, we'll get right on it. ... My man. |
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