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Authors: Quentin Tarantino

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MAJOR HELLSTROM

—I wasn’t speaking to you, Lieutenant Saltzberg,

(turning to Stiglitz)

or you either, Lieutenant Berlin.

(looking at Hicox)

I was speaking to Captain I-don’t-know-what.

The Gestapo major is now standing beside Sgt. Pola, before the imposter’s table.

Lt. Hicox calmly explains his origin.

LT. HICOX

I was born in the village that rests in the shadow of Pitz Palu.

MAJOR HELLSTROM

The mountain?

LT. HICOX

Yes. In that village we all speak like this. Have you seen the Riefenstahl film?

MAJOR HELLSTROM

Yes.

LT. HICOX

Then you saw me. You remember the skiing torch scene?

MAJOR HELLSTROM

Yes, I do.

LT. HICOX

In that scene were myself, my father, my sister, and my two brothers. My brother is so handsome, the director, Pabst, gave
him a closeup.

As Bridget von Hammersmark places a cigarette in an ivory cigarette holder—which Hicox, as if on cue, lights for her she says:

BRIDGET

Major, if my word means anything, I can vouch for everything the young captain has just said. He does hail from the bottom
of Pitz Palu, he was in the film, and his brother is far more handsome than he.

The imposters laugh.

Then… so does the Gestapo major. He turns to the sergeant.

MAJOR HELLSTROM

You should rejoin your friends.

Which the young sergeant is more than happy to do. That table begins playing their game again.

Major Hellstrom, the highest-ranking officer in the room, bows graciously to the female German celebrity.

MAJOR HELLSTROM

May I join you?

BRIDGET

By all means, Major.

The Gestapo major sits at the table, opposite Lt. Hicox and Wicki. The French barmaid brings over the Major’s beer stein.

MAJOR HELLSTROM

So that’s the source of your bizarre accent? Extraordinary. So what are you doing here, Captain?

LT. HICOX

Aside from having a drink with the lovely fräulein?

MAJOR HELLSTROM

Well, that pleasure requires no explanation.

Chuckle… chuckle

MAJOR HELLSTROM

I mean in country. You’re obviously not stationed in France, or I’d know who you are.

LT. HICOX

You know every German in France?

MAJOR HELLSTROM

Worth knowing.

LT. HICOX

Well, therein lies the problem. We never claimed to be worth knowing.

Chuckle… chuckle.

MAJOR HELLSTROM

(chuckling as he asks)

All levity aside, what are you doing in France?

LT. HICOX

Attending Goebbels’s film premiere as the fräulein’s escort.

MAJOR HELLSTROM

You’re the fräulein’s escort?

LT. HICOX

Somebody has to carry the lighter.

Chuckle… chuckle.

BRIDGET

The captain is my date, but all three are my guests. We’re old friends, Major, who go back a long time. Longer than an actress
would care to admit.

Chuckle… chuckle.

MAJOR HELLSTROM

Well, in that case, let me raise a glass to the three luckiest men in the room.

BRIDGET

I’ll drink to that.

They cheers.

BACK TO THE REAL GERMANS’ TABLE

They continue to have a lot of fun playing their game.

BACK TO THE OFFICERS’ TABLE

MAJOR HELLSTROM

I must say, that game they’re playing looks like a good bit of fun. I didn’t join them, because you’re quite right, Captain,
officers and enlisted men shouldn’t fraternize. But seeing as we’re all officers here,

(bowing to Bridget)

… and sophisticated lady friends of officers, what say we play the game?

Lt. Hicox begins to refuse when Bridget (feeling she knows better) interrupts him:

BRIDGET

Okay, one game.

MAJOR HELLSTROM

Wunderbar.

The major borrows five cards from the other table and lays them out in front of Bridget and the officers.

MAJOR HELLSTROM

So the object of the game is to write the name of a famous person on your card. Real or fictitious, doesn’t matter. For instance,
you could write Confucius or Fu Manchu.

(He SNAPS his fingers.)

Eric! More pens.

(back to the players)

And they must be famous. No Aunt Ingas. When you finish writing, put the card face down on the table and move it to the person
to your left. The person to your right will move their card in front of you. You pick up the card without looking at it, lick
the back, and stick it on your forehead, like so.

He demonstrates.

MAJOR HELLSTROM

(CON’T)

And in ten yes or no questions, you must guess who you are…

As Maj. Hellstrom finishes explaining the finer points of the game, a CAMERA PANS OFF HIM and BEGINS SLOWLY ZOOMING INTO STIGLITZ.
The major’s dialogue begins to FADE AWAY.

Until we’re in a SPAGHETTI WESTERN FLASHBACK. Which is RED-FILTERED FOOTAGE of Hugo being savagely WHIPPED by somebody wearing
a GESTAPO UNIFORM, SUPERIMPOSED over his CLOSEUP.

The flashback disappears. It’s driving Stiglitz crazy, being this close to a Gestapo uniform and not plunging a knife into
it.

The major’s voice comes back on the soundtrack.

MAJOR HELLSTROM

… So let’s give it a try, shall we? Everybody write your names.

The five players write their names…

Then move their cards to the left…

Everybody sticks their cards on their forehead…

MAJOR
BRIDGET
WILHELM
ARCHIE
HUGO
HELLSTROM
VON HAMMERSMARK
WICKI
HICOX
STIGLITZ
is
is
is
is
is
KING
G.W.
BULLDOG
BRIGITTE
MARCO
KONG
PABST
DRUMMOND
HELM
POLO
MAJ. KING KONG

I’ll start, give you the idea. Am I German?

They laugh.

BRIDGET

No.

MAJ. KING KONG

Am I an American?

They laugh—but then Wicki says:

WICKI

Wait a minute, he goes to—

BRIDGET

Don’t be ridiculous. Obviously he wasn’t born in America.

MAJ. KING KONG

So… I visited America, aye?

The table says, “Yes.”

MAJ. KING KONG

Was this visit… fortuitous?

WICKI

Not for you.

MAJ. KING KONG

… Hummm. My native land, is it what one would call exotic?

The table confers and decides, yes, it is exotic.

MAJ. KING KONG

Hummm. That could be either a reference to the jungle or the Orient. I’m going to let my first instinct take over and ask,
am I from the jungle?

The table says, “Yes, you are.”

MAJ. KING KONG

Now gentlemen, around this time you could ask whether you’re real or fictitious.

I, however, think that’s too easy, so I won’t ask that, yet. Okay, my native land is the jungle. I visited America, but my
visit was not fortuitous to me, but the implication is that it was to somebody else. When I went from the jungle to America,
… did I go by boat?

“Yes.”

MAJ. KING KONG

Did I go against my will?

“Yes.”

MAJ. KING KONG

On this boat ride… Was I in chains?

“Yes.”

MAJ. KING KONG

When I arrived in America… was I displayed in chains?

“Yes.”

MAJ. KING KONG

Am I the story of the Negro in America?

The table says, “No.”

MAJ. KING KONG

Well, then, I must be King Kong.

He throws the card on the table.

They applaud him.

MAJOR HELLSTROM

Now since I answered correctly, you all need to finish your drinks.

The three counterfeit Nazis knock back their whiskeys.

MAJOR HELLSTROM

Now, who’s next?

LT. HICOX

Major, I don’t mean to be rude. But the four of us are very good friends. And the four of us haven’t seen each other in quite
a while. So… Major, I’m afraid, you are intruding.

MAJOR HELLSTROM

I beg to differ, Captain. It’s only if the fräulein considers my presence an intrusion that I become an intruder. How about
it, Fräulein? Am I intruding?

BRIDGET

Of course not, Major.

MAJOR HELLSTROM

I didn’t think so. It’s simply the young captain is immune to my charms.

The table’s not sure what to do. Is this a confrontation? Then the major laughs.

MAJOR HELLSTROM

I’m just joking. Of course, I’m intruding.

MAJOR HELLSTROM

Allow me to refill your glasses, gentlemen, and I will bid you and the fräulein adieu.

(leaning in)

Eric has a bottle of thirty-three-year-old single-malt scotch whiskey from the Scottish highlands. What do you say, gentlemen?

LT. HICOX

You’re most gracious, sir.

MAJOR HELLSTROM

Eric, the thirty-three and new glasses! You don’t want to contaminate the thirty-three with the swill you were drinking.

ERIC

How many glasses?

LT. HICOX

Five glasses.

MAJOR HELLSTROM

Not me. I like scotch, scotch doesn’t like me.

BRIDGET

Nor I. I’ll stay with bubbly.

Lt. Hicox holds up three fingers (pinky to middle finger) to Eric, the owner.

LT. HICOX

Three glasses.

Eric brings the three glasses and the old bottle, pouring for the three soldiers.

Major Hellstrom lifts up his beer stein and toasts:

MAJOR HELLSTROM

To a thousand-year Reich!

They all mutter, “a thousand-year reich” and clink glasses.

The Gestapo major puts down his beer stein, and then WE HEAR a CLICK under the table.

MAJOR HELLSTROM

Did you hear that? That’s the sound of my WALTER pointed right at your testicles.

LT. HICOX

Why do you have a Luger pointed at my testicles?

MAJOR HELLSTROM

Because you’ve just given yourself away, captain. You’re no more German than scotch.

LT. HICOX

Well, Major—

BRIDGET

—Major—

MAJOR HELLSTROM

—Shut up, slut.

(to Hicox)

You were saying?

LT. HICOX

I was saying that makes two of us. I’ve had a gun pointed at your balls since you sat down.

SGT. STIGLITZ

That makes three of us.

UNDER THE TABLE

We see all three guns pointed at the appropriate crotches, as well as Bridget’s legs, right besides the Nazi major’s. Her
pretty gams are sure to be chewed up in the possible crossfire.

SGT. STIGLITZ

And at this range, I’m a real Fredrick Zoller.

MAJOR HELLSTROM

Hummm… Looks like we have a bit of a sticky situation here.

LT. HICOX

What’s going to happen, Major, is you’re going to stand up and walk out that door with us.

MAJOR HELLSTROM

No, no, no, no, no, no, I don’t think so. I’m afraid you and I both know, no matter what happens to anybody else in this room,
the two of us aren’t going anywhere.

MAJOR HELLSTROM

(pointing at the table behind him)

Too bad about Sgt. Wilhelm and his friends. If any of you expect to live, you’ll have to shoot them too.

(pause)

Looks like little Max is going to grow up an orphan. How sad.

BRIDGET

Then, Major, I implore you. For the sake of those German troops, will you please leave with us?

MAJOR HELLSTROM

Oh, Bridget, your concern for German troops gets me…

(pointing at his heart)

… right here. You mean for the sake of your whore legs, don’t you? You can’t afford to get any bullet holes in them. You’re
not finished spreading them for all the Hollywood Jews.

Lt. Hicox picks up his thirty-three-year-old single-malt scotch and says:

LT. HICOX

(ENGLISH)

Well, if this is it, old boy, I hope you don’t mind if I go out speaking the king’s?

MAJOR HELLSTROM

(ENGLISH)

By all means, Captain.

The English film critic commando picks up the thirty-three the Nazi major bought him and says:

LT. HICOX

There’s a special rung in hell reserved for people who waste good scotch. And seeing as I might be rapping on the door momentarily

He downs the stuff.

LT. HICOX

(to the Nazi major)

I must say, damn good stuff, sir.

He puts the glass down.

LT. HICOX

Now about this pickle we find ourselves in. It would appear there’s only one thing left for you to do.

MAJOR HELLSTROM

(ENGLISH)

And what would that be?

LT. HICOX

Stiglitz.

STIGLITZ

Say, “auf Widersehen” to your balls!

STIGLITZ

FIRES into HELLSTROM’S BALLS…

As does HICOX, HITTING not only Hellstrom, but BRIDGET as well.

HELLSTROM

FIRES into HICOX’s BALLS and KNEECAPS.

STIGLITZ

then JUMPS over the table and begins STABBING HELLSTROM with the DAGGER.

HICOX FALLS to the floor… DEAD.

BRIDGET FALLS to the floor… SHOT.

WICKI

brings his weapon out from underneath the table and BEGINS FIRING across at the GERMANS at the table, who, unaware, were still
PLAYING THE GAME.

WINNETOU

is SHOT IN THE BACK, before he even knows what is happening.

EDGAR WALLACE is SHOT by WICKI.

SGT. POLA NEGRI

FALLS to the floor in the confusion.

FEMALE SGT. BEETHOVEN and STIGLITZ bring their guns toward each other and FIRE. They BOTH TAKE and GIVE each other so many
BULLETS it’s almost romantic when they collapse DEAD on the floor.

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