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ESCAPE   4'2m0f Paul escapes from jail with help from above

PAUL -- (sings a hymn, afar with echos)

FRED -- Pssssst. (pause, whispers) Hey, fella. Pssssst. (aloud) 
Hey, you!

PAUL -- (stops singing) Who's there?

FRED -- (whispers) Are you Saul of Tarsus, also known as Paul 
the apostle?

PAUL -- Yes, I'm Paul. Who are you?

FRED -- I'm a member of your guerrilla movement.

PAUL -- What guerrilla movement? I wasn't aware I had a
guerrilla movement.

FRED -- It's best you don't know. It's a super secret 
organization. If I tell you, I have to kill you.

PAUL -- Oh, that's comforting.

FRED -- I came to bust you out of jail.

PAUL -- That won't be necessary. I'm sure the Lord will send an 
angel to unlock my leg shackles and open the cell door as soon 
as the timing is right.

FRED -- Well, your prayers have been answered.

PAUL -- I'm sorry, but, even in the moonlight, you don't look 
like an angel.

FRED -- Well, maybe not, but I'm a lot better at covert 
operations than any angel.

PAUL -- Oh, please, don't do anything foolish. There's a guard 
right outside the cell door.

FRED -- I said COVERT, didn't I. He won't hear a thing. Before 
he knows what hit him, you'll be gone.

PAUL -- Please don't hurt anyone. Noone has to get hurt.

FRED -- Alright, have it your way. Whether it's the easy way or 
the hard way, I'm getting you out.

(chain saw)

PAUL -- Please don't do that. Excuse me. Hey. (louder) Hey!

(chain saw off)

FRED -- Do you mind? I'm working here.

PAUL -- I don't know how to tell you this, but there's a good 
chance that the guard can hear that.

FRED -- Picky, picky, picky. Alright, lucky for you I came 
prepared.

(jack hammer)

PAUL -- I'm sorry, but that won't do either. Excuse me. Hey. 
(louder) Hey.

(jack hammer off)

FRED -- What.

PAUL -- I'm sorry, but if you don't keep it down, you're going 
to get us both into big trouble.

FRED -- I thought you were an apostle.

PAUL -- I am. So?

FRED -- So, no guts no glory.

PAUL -- I'm not really after glory.

FRED -- (sigh) Okay, have it your way. Fortunately for you, I 
came prepared. 

(chains clank)

PAUL -- What are you going to do?

FRED -- Well, you wanted me to keep it quiet. I have to do it 
the quiet way. (shouts afar) Alright, boys take it away!

(diesel engine rubles, walls fall down)

PAUL -- So, tearing the side off the jail is your way of keeping 
it quiet? 

FRED -- Okay, so, let's get these leg shackles off you.

PAUL -- I have no idea why the guard hasn't called in the army 
by now. The angel of the Lord must have put him to sleep. But 
please try to keep the noise down.

FRED -- No problem!

(skill saw)

PAUL -- Do you have anything quieter?

(skill saw off)

FRED -- Everybody is a critic. Alright, fortunately for you, I....

BOTH -- ...came prepared.

PAUL -- I know.

FRED -- You got it!

(dentist drill, then electric drill, pause)

PAUL -- What's the matter? Why are you stopping?

FRED -- These leg stocks have the toughest locks I ever saw. 
Fortunately, for you I brought some of these....

PAUL -- Dynamite?!

FRED -- I haven't seen a lock that could resist dynamite.

PAUL -- I urge you to rethink the side affects of this strategy.

FRED -- Pffff! It's a peace of cake.

(low rumble)

PAUL -- Hey! Did you feel that?

FRED -- Feel what?

PAUL -- It feels like an earthquake.

(louder rumble)

FRED -- Sounds like someone else is trying to get you out of 
jail.

PAUL -- The angel of the Lord.

FRED -- Sure. When I'm almost done.

(latch clanks, hinges squeak)

PAUL -- Look!

FRED -- Hey, the cell door opened. Geez, if I had known it would 
open that easy, I would have come in that way.

PAUL -- I think the angel of the Lord made it look easy.

FRED -- Oh.

(chains clank)

PAUL -- Well, look at that! The leg stocks fell off my legs.

FRED -- Oh, sure, once I worked on it.

PAUL -- Well, thank you, anyway.

FRED -- Okay, right this way. I'll cover you with machine gun
fire and a half dozen mortar rounds.

PAUL -- Ah, no, thank you. The Lord wants me to stay here share 
the gospel with the prison guard outside the door.

FRED -- That's gratitude for you.

PAUL -- I'm sorry, but I must do the work that the Lord gives me 
to do.

FRED -- Well, I guess I can celebrate a success anyway. Cigar?

PAUL -- No, thank you. I don't smoke.

FRED -- Suit yourself. (match sizzles, voice fades) Whatever you 
do, don't tell anyone I was here.

PAUL -- For some reason, I think, they'll know that you were 
here. (shouts) By the way, that's not a cigar you're lighting. 
It's a stick of....

(boom)


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