Script: The Big Lebowsky - Scene: Stolen Car

The Big Lebowsky.

He turns from the lane to where the Dude sits in the nook of
molded plastic chairs. The Dude listlessly holds the portable
phone in his lap. It is ringing.

WALTER
Aitz chaim he, Dude. As the ex used
to say.

DUDE
What the fuck is that supposed to
mean? What the fuck're we gonna
tell Lebowski?

WALTER
Huh? Oh, him, yeah. Well I don't
see, um-- what exactly is the problem?

The portable phone stops ringing.

DUDE
Huh? The problem is--what do you
mean what's the--there's no--we didn't--
they're gonna kill that poor woman--

WALTER
What the fuck're you talking about?
That poor woman--that poor slut--
kidnapped herself, Dude. You said
so yourself--

DUDE
No, Walter! I said I thought she
kidnapped herself! You're the one
who's so fucking certain--

WALTER
That's right, Dude, 1 % certain--

Donny is trotting excitedly up.

DONNY
They posted the next round of the
tournament--

WALTER
Donny, shut the f--when do we play?

DONNY
This Saturday. Quintana and--

WALTER
Saturday! Well they'll have to
reschedule.

DUDE
Walter, what'm I gonna tell Lebowski?

WALTER
I told that fuck down at the league
office-- who's in charge of
scheduling?

DUDE
Walter--

DONNY
Burkhalter.

WALTER
I told that kraut a fucking thousand
times I don't roll on shabbas.

DONNY
It's already posted.

WALTER
WELL THEY CAN FUCKING UN-POST IT!

DUDE
Who gives a shit, Walter? What about
that poor woman? What do we tell--

WALTER
C'mon Dude, eventually she'll get
sick of her little game and, you
know, wander back--

DONNY
How come you don't roll on Saturday,
Walter?

WALTER
I'm shomer shabbas.

DONNY
What's that, Walter?

DUDE
Yeah, and in the meantime what do I
tell Lebowski?

WALTER
Saturday is shabbas. Jewish day of
rest. Means I don't work, I don't
drive a car, I don't fucking ride in
a car, I don't handle money, I don't
turn on the oven, and I sure as shit
don't fucking roll!

DONNY
Sheesh.

DUDE
Walter, how--

WALTER
Shomer shabbas.

The Dude gets to his feet with the portable phone.

DUDE
That's it. I'm out of here.

WALTER
For Christ's sake, Dude.

Walter and Donny join the Dude as he walks out of the bowling
alley.

DUDE
Hell, you just tell him--well, you tell him, uh, we made the
hand-off, everything went, uh, you know--

DONNY
Oh yeah, how'd it go?

WALTER
Went alright. Dude's car got a little
dinged up--

DUDE
But Walter, we didn't make the fucking
hand- off! They didn't get, the
fucking money and they're gonna--
they're gonna--

WALTER
Yeah yeah, "kill that poor woman."

He waves both arms as if conducting a symphony orchestra.

WALTER
Kill that poor woman.

DONNY
Walter, if you can't ride in a car,
how d'you get around on Shammas--

WALTER
Really, Dude, you surprise me.
They're not gonna kill shit. They're
not gonna do shit. What can they
do? Fuckin' amateurs. And meanwhile,
look at the bottom line. Who's
sitting on a million fucking dollars?
Am I wrong?

DUDE
Walter--

WALTER
Who's got a fucking million fucking
dollars parked in the trunk of our
car out here?

DUDE
"Our" car, Walter?

WALTER
And what do they got, Dude? My dirty
undies. My fucking whites--Say,
where is the car?

The three bowlers, stopped at the edge of the lot, stare out
at an empty parking space.

DONNY
Who has your undies, Walter?

WALTER
Where's your car, Dude?

DUDE
You don't know, Walter? You seem to
know the answer to everything else!

WALTER
Hmm. Well, we were in a handicapped
spot. It, uh, it was probably towed.

DUDE
It's been stolen, Walter! You fucking
know it's been stolen!

WALTER
Well, certainly that's a possibility,
Dude--

DUDE
Aw, fuck it.

The Dude walks away across the lot. The portable phone starts
ringing again.

DONNY
Where you going, Dude?

DUDE
I'm going home, Donny.

DONNY
Your phone's ringing, Dude.

DUDE
Thank you, Donny.