RAINE
Aldo is dressed like a French civilian. Hicox is dressed in a German gray S.S. captain’s uniform. They look out of a window,
in an apartment, in the village of Nadine, overlooking the tavern.
LT. ALDO
You didn’t say the goddamn rendezvous was in a fuckin’ basement.
LT. HICOX
I didn’t know.
LT. ALDO
You said it was in a tavern?
LT. HICOX
It is a tavern.
LT. ALDO
Yeah, in a basement. You know, fightin’ in a basement offers a lot of difficulties, number one being you’re fighting in a
basement.
Wilhelm Wicki joins the SHOT, dressed in a German S.S. lieutenant’s uniform.
WICKI
What if we go in there and she’s not even there?
LT. HICOX
We wait. Don’t worry. She’s a British spy. She’ll make the rendezvous.
WE SEE that the other Basterds, dressed in French civilian clothes, are in the room as well. They are Donowitz, Hirschberg,
and Utivich. And in the back of the room, dressed in the gray uniform of an S.S. lieutenant, Hugo Stiglitz sits off by himself,
sharpening his S.S. DAGGER on his leather belt, looped around his boot. Anybody not in the scene from the Basterd’s opening
chapter is dead.
Lt. Hicox watches Stiglitz off by himself on the other side of the room SHARPENING his dagger menacingly.
Stiglitz is fucking weird…
Lt. Hicox approaches Stiglitz…
LT. HICOX
Stiglitz, right?
STIGLITZ
That’s right, sir.
He continues bringing the blade’s edge up, then down on the leather strap.
LT. HICOX
I hear you’re pretty good with that?
Meaning the blade.
Stiglitz doesn’t answer.
LT. HICOX
You know, we’re not looking for trouble right now. We’re simply making contact with our agent. Should be uneventful. However,
on the off chance I’m wrong and things prove eventful, I need to know we can all remain calm.
The renegade Gerry sergeant stops his blade’s progress and looks up at the limey lieutenant.
STIGLITZ
I don’t look calm to you?
LT. HICOX
Well, now you put it like that, I guess you do.
He turns his attention back to his blade.
Hicox moves over to Aldo and asks him privately:
LT. HICOX
This Gerry of yours, Stiglitz? Not exactly the loquacious type, is he?
Aldo just looks at him.
LT. ALDO
Is that the kinda man you need, the loquacious type?
LT. HICOX
Fair point, Lieutenant.
LT. ALDO
So y’all git in trouble in there, what are we supposed to do? Make bets on how it all comes out?
LT. HICOX
If we get into trouble, we can handle it. But if trouble does happen, we need you to make damn sure no Germans or French,
for that matter—escape from that basement.
If Fräulein von Hammersmark’s cover is compromised, the mission is kaput.
Donny chimes in:
SGT. DONOWITZ
Speaking of Fräulein von Hammersmark, whose idea was it for the death trap rendezvous?
LT. HICOX
She chose the spot.
SGT. DONOWITZ
Well, isn’t that just dandy?
LT. HICOX
Look, she’s not a military strategist. She’s just an actress.
LT. ALDO
Ya don’t got to be Stonewall Jackson to know you don’t want to fight in a basement.
LT. HICOX
She wasn’t picking a place to fight. She was picking a place isolated and without Germans.
PFC. HIRSCHBERG
Lieutenant, I hate to be contrary, but I got me a Nazi pissin’ on Louisiana two o’clock.
They move to the window, and sure enough, ONE LONE NAZI PRIVATE relieves himself against the side wall.
Lt. Hicox, this was definitely not the plan.
LT. HICOX
Shit.
Sgt. Donowitz chides him:
SGT. DONOWITZ
So what do you think your Fräulein von Hammer—
LT. HICOX
—Obviously, I don’t know, Sergeant.
The British officer watches the German soldier, who’s not supposed to be there. When Hugo Stiglitz joins him at the window,
Stiglitz looks down at the urinating Nazi, S.S. dagger in hand.
STIGLITZ
If we’re going, let’s go.
He sheaths the dagger.
EXT—LA LOUISIANE (BASEMENT TAVERN)—NIGHT
The GERMAN PISSING PRIVATE sloppily finishes his task. Cramming his noodle back in his pants, he descends the stairs that
lead him back into
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