Chapter 12: The Lonely Grave of Paula Schultz

The city of Austin, Texas

A small camper trailer sits all by its lonesome in the middle of a barren Texas wasteland. Sitting on the steps of the trailer was Michael's brother Fredo. Not the slick Fredo with the black suit and the silver-tipped black cowboy boots we saw earlier at the wedding chapel massacre. No, the Fredo now is the Fredo who climbed into a bottle five years ago, got himself comfortable, and decided to live there. Michael was there and he just told Fredo what just happened in Japan. "You telling' me she cut her way through 88 bodyguards before she got to O-Ren?" asked Fredo.

Michael said, "Nah, there wasn't really 88 of 'em. They just called themselves 'The Crazy 88'."

Fredo asked, "How come?"

Michael said, "I don't know. I guess they thought it sounded cool." Fredo laughed. "Anyhow, they all fell under her Hanzo sword."

Fredo asked, "She got a Hanzo sword?"

Michael replied, "He made one for her."

Fredo was still confused. "Didn't he swear a blood oath to never make another sword?"

Michael said, "It would appear he has broken it."

Fredo put his spit can away. Since 4 years ago, he left the Italian way and went to the Texas way including cowboy hats. "Them Japs sure know how to hold a grudge, don't they? Or in this case your Chinese ex." He laughed a bit. "Or maybe…you just tend to bring that out in people."

Michael asked, "I know this is a ridiculous question before I ask it, but you haven't, by any chance, kept up with your…swordplay or shooting?"

Fredo shook his head. "Haven't picked up a gun in a while and I pawned the sword years ago."

Michael grew upset. "You hocked a Hattori Hanzo sword?"

Fredo nodded. "Yep."

"It was priceless."

Fredo laughed. "Well, not in El Paso, it ain't. In El Paso, I got me $250 for it. I'm a bouncer in a titty bar, Michael. My Mafia days are over. But if she wants to fight me, all she's got to do is come down to the club and start some shit, and we'll be in a fight."

Michael sighs and put his hand on the trailer wall. "I know we haven't spoken in some time, and the last time we spoke wasn't the most pleasant, but you've got to get over being mad at me, and start becoming afraid of her, because she's coming and she's coming to kill you. And unless you accept my assistance, I have no doubt she will succeed."

Fredo was silent at first and said, "I don't dodge guilt, and I don't Jew out of paying my comeuppance."

Michael asked, "Can't we just…forget the past?"

Then Fredo said something philological. "That woman…deserves her revenge. And…we deserve to die." Then he said jokily, "But then again…so does she. So, I guess…we'll just see. Won't we?"

That night, the My-oh-my Club, is the sleazy tatty bar that Fredo works at. His job is tossin out the riff-raff that's worse than him, out on their ear - minus a few of the teeth they had when they came in. His beat-to-shit pickup truck pulls up to the front, and he climbs out of the automobile. He walked inside and it was completely empty. No tripping, no drinks, just employees playing around. As he walked up to the bar, the bartender said, "Late again. Fredo, can't you tell time?"

Fredo said, "There ain't nobody in here, man."

Then everyone heard the owner yelling from his office. "IS that Fredo?"

The bartender said, "Yeah."

The owner yelled, "Tell him to get his fucking ass back here!"

The bartender smiled smugly at Fredo. "OK. Fredo, Larry's like a word with ya."

Fredo walked in Larry's office where he and another stripper were snorting. "Take a shot. Be somebody, baby."

Fredo asked, "You looking for me?"

Larry saw Fredo. "I don't know what car wash you worked before you came here that let you stroll in 20minutes late, but it wasn't owned by me and I own a fuckin' car wash."

The stripper asked, "Do you want me to leave?"

Larry said, "No, I don't want you to leave. I want you to sit and wait."

Fredo said, "Larry…there ain't nobody out there, so…"

Larry didn't like that. "'There's nobody out there, Larry'. What's your point? That you're not needed here?"

Fredo said, "My point is…I'm the bouncer, and there ain't nobody out there to bounce."

Larry asked, "You saying that the reason…that you're not doing the job that I'm…paying you to do is that you don't have a job to do?"

Fredo said, "No—"

But Larry interrupted him. "Is that what you're saying? What are you trying to convince me of, exactly? That you're as useless as an asshole right here? Well, guess what, buddy? I think…you just fucking convinced me." Then he got a black marker. "Let's go to the calendar. It's calendar time. Calendar time for Fredo. OK. you working tomorrow?"

Fredo said, "Yeah."

Larry rolled his eyes. "Mm. No, you're n…You don't even know what fucking day you work. Here. You're not working tomorrow. You're working Wednesday. Here you are. There you go." He crossed out his name. "Workin' Thursday?"

Fredo said, "Yeah."

Larry did the same. "I don't think so. Friday. I do…There's your name."

Fredo said, "If you say to."

"There used to by your name. OK?" He crossed out all of Fredo's name. "Saturday. There used to be your name."

His own boss defeated Fredo. Even Michael was kinder than this guy. "Oh."

"Uh, Monday…Here. How about that?" Larry capped the marker and threw it on the table. "Fuckin with your cash is the only thing you kids seem to understand. OK? Now, I want you to go home till I call you. Till I call you. Before you leave, talk to Rocket. She's got a job for you to do." Then he saw Fredo's hat. "And…the hat. That fucking hat. That fucking… How many times have I told you, don't wear that fucking hat here? How many?"

Fredo laughed and said, "Customers wear hats."

Larry said, "Well, I'm not the boss of the customers. I'm the boss of you. And I'm telling you…that I want you to keep that shit-kicker hat at home."

Fredo took off the hat, left the office, and went to the bar. Soon enough another stripper, Rocket, walked up to him. "Yeah. Fredo, honey, uh, the toilet is at it again. There's a shitty water all over the floor."

Fredo said, "OK…Rocket. I'll clean it up."

Later that night, Fredo pulls his pickup truck in front of his small camper home. He walks inside, shutting the door behind him. Under the trailer was the Bride wither her Hattori Hanzo's samurai sword. From inside the trailer, she heard the needle being lifted off the phonograph. From a distance, the shadowy figure of Fredo looking out the window of the camper. The Bride keeps her face in the dirt. The figure of Fredo at the window, seems to dismiss the sound he heard for what it was - a rat meeting its end at the claws of a cat. The curtain closes again. The needle is placed back on the phonograph. The Bride counted as she looked up towards the trailer...All's clear...She begins crawling towards the trailer again. ...She's now right outside the trailer home...she can hear the sound of Fredo sitting in a chair rocking back and forth. She hears the sound of a screw top unscrewed...The sound of pouring in a glass...The sound of a glass being laid heavy on a table. Crouched low on the balls of her feet, she, with great care, slowly and silently unsheathes her Hanzo sword. Through the bottom slit in the door, she sees the distorted image of Fredo's feet on the floor. She slowly rises...sword in right hand...left hand grabs the front doorknob... QUICK as a Texas lizard on glass - She brings the sword's handle down hard on the door lock - Cheap Lock Busting. She flings the front door open... Brother Fredo sitting calmly in a rocking chair, moving back and forth to the Texas twang on his turntable, cradling a double-barrel shotgun aimed right at The Bride. The Bride Blinks. Both barrels blast at the Bride standing in the doorway is hit smack dab in the chest, and propelled through the air backwards. Landing hard on her back in the dirt. Fredo casually rises from his rocking chair and lifts the needle off the phonograph, cutting off the music. Then with shotgun in hand, stands in the doorway of the trailer looking down at The Bride. The Bride laid out in the dirt below him - Sword separated from her grasp - Bloody mess down her front - Groan from her throat. Fredo steps down from the trailer onto the dirt, standing over The Bride. "Bet your sweet ass that don't sting like a bitch." More groans coming out of the blood splattered Bride. "You done got a double dose of rock salt, right in the ole tit. Now not havin tits as fine or as big as yours, I can't even imagine how bad that shit stings..." He lowers down on his haunches, over her. "...But I don't want to neither." The Bride, hurting and incapacitated from the shotgun blast, still nevertheless defiant, spits a gob of bloody saliva, right in ole Fredo's face. Fredo, gob of spit running down on his cheek and nose. The cowboy removes a red bandana from his back pocket, and wipes away the goo. Then his eyeballs go down to the spitter. "Now I know when it comes to a rock salt burn, you're feelin pretty much like an expert bout now. But truth be told, you ain't felt all rock salts got to offer till you took a double dose in your backside." With the help of his cowboy boot he rolls The Bride over onto her stomach, exposing her butt. He then got a shot and injected whatever it was in her butt. The Bride screamed and then knocked out. Then knocking down a swig of Jack Daniels, he removes a small silver cell phone from his pants pocket, raises the antenna, and presses one button on the panel.

Elsewhere a six-foot tall, long-haired blonde with the codename "California Mountain Snake," was at her house. She heard her phone and answered it. "Michael?"

"Wrong brother you hateful bitch."

"Fredo?"

"Bingo."

"And what do I owe this dubious pleasure?"

"I just caught me the cowgirl, ain't never been caught."

This gets Elle's attention. "Do you mean what I think you mean?"

"If you think I mean I got 'er, you thought right."

"Did you kill her?"

"Not yet I ain't. But I can sure do it easy enough. She's so gentle right now, I could perform her coup de grace with a rock."

"What are you waiting for, run outta liquid courage."

"No. It's just...I ain't killed nobody in a long Goddamn time. And just 'tween you, me, and Jesus Christ, kinda made me a promise I wasn't gonna. Be that however it is. Back when I did kill people...I got paid for it. Just don't seem right...turn amateur this time of life. Any who, guess what I'm holdin in my hand right now." He was holding is The Bride's Hattori Hanzo sword. "A brand spankin new Hattori Hanzo sword. And I'm here to tell ya Elle, that's what I call sharp."

"How much?"

"Oh, that's hard to say. Seein it's priceless and all."

"I'll give you a hundred thousand dollars for it."

"I'm sure you would. But I'll take, one million."

"Jeez Fredo, who'd ever guess you were such a capitalist. I thought drunks like yourself were beyond such monetary concerns?"

"Well Elle, a million dollars buys a whole lotta Jack."

"Why then are you selling it to a hateful bitch like me, when you know Michael would pay more?"

"If I'm gonna drink myself to death, ...it won't be on Michael's dollar. It's gonna be on yours.

"What's the terms?"

"You buy a ticket to Texas, and I'll see you here tomorrow mornin. You give me a million in foldin cash, I'll give you the greatest sword ever made by a man. How's that sound?"

"Sounds like we got a deal. One condition."

"What?"

"You kill her tonight. And one more thing."

"You said one condition."

"It's a caveat to the same condition."

"What?"

"She must suffer to her last breath."

"That Elle darlin, I can pretty damn well guarantee."

"Then I'll see you in the morning millionaire."

At a spooky Texas graveyard, someone was digging up a grave. Fredo's beat-to-shit pickup is in the shot too. Its headlight beams shining on the man. And last but not least, The Bride, bound and gagged, lying in the flatbed of Fredo's pickup. She begins to come to from the shot. Some dried blood lies caked around her wounds. Rope binds her wrists tightly together in front of her. A big leather cowboy belt is wrapped tight around her cherry brown cowboy boots. Her eyelids flutter open...and she sees stars. A giant, black Texas night sky full of them. She has no idea where she is. She turns her head to the left and sees, back window and cab of truck. She turns her head to the right and sees, hatch gate to flatbed. She listens...she hears, crickets...The sound of someone digging...Then someone unlocking the truck. She looks up and saw Fredo. "Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey." The grabs her by her collar, and yanks her out of the truck. She falls to the dirt hard. Once in the dirt, The Bride sees an Old Coffin that's been dug up. Next to it, is a brand new pine box coffin, straight out of "Fistful of Dollars." And a freshly dug grave, with a pile of dirt next to it, in front of an old tombstone that reads; "PAULA SCHULTZ."

When the man was done digging he yelled out, "I'm done! Get me outta this hole!" Fredo helped him out and got the latter out. Then the 2 walked over to the Bride. "Whoa, look at those eyes. The bitch is furious. What did I tell ya?"

Fredo said, "Is she the cutest little Chinese pussy you ever saw?" The man laughed. "Or…is she the cutest little Chinese pussy you ever saw?"

The man said, "I seen better."

Fredo asked, "You got nothing to say?" The Bride was silent.

The man said, "White women call this 'the silent treatment'. And we let 'em think we don't like it."

Fredo said, "You grab her feet, I'll get her head." The two fiends laugh, then bend down to lift The Bride and carry her over to the pine box. She struggles with her bound legs and arms...Both men drop her to the ground. Fredo whips out a can of mace from his pocket. "Hey hey hey, wiggle worm, look at this." He holds the can of mace spray by her eyes. She stops. Her eyes go to the nozzle of the spray can, then to Fredo. "Looky here bitch, this is a can of mace. Now you're goin underground tonight, and that's all there is to it. But, when I bury ya, I was gonna bury you with this." He removes a flashlight from behind his back and turns on the beam. "But if you're gonna act like a horse's ass, I'll spray this whole Goddamn can in your eyeballs. Then you'll be blind, burnin, and buried alive. So, what's it gonna be sister?" Her eyes move to the right, indicating the flashlight. "You may be stupid, but at least you ain't bloody stupid." The two men lift up The Bride, and carry her over to the pine box and place her in. Fredo puts the flashlight inside. He picks up the pine lid, and is just about to place it over the coffin...when...He locks eyeballs with The Bride... ...her eyes hold his for as long as she can to say, "This is for breaking my brother's heart." Then... ...he places the lid over her face, closing the coffin. Then… ...with a hammer and nails the two men seal the coffin shut.

Inside the coffin it was dark, excerpt for the cracks of light seeping through between the lid and the box. However, with each nail pounded in, more lights is cut off...till ...the only light left, is the crack by The Bride's head. The last hammered nail obliterates that light source. The Bride lies in total darkness. The two men lift the pine box, and set it in the grave. Fredo scoops up a shovel full of dirt...Inside the box, the Bride turn on the flashlight. BAM... ...a shovel of dirt has just landed hard on the lid, making the Bride jump... BAM… ...More dirt. She reacts again. BAM... The dirt just keeps falling, the bams becoming softer with each new shovelful. The Bride is starting to perspire...her breathing becoming more rapid and panicked...her heartbeat begins to echo inside the pine box. Fredo and the other guy finished filling the grave. The old coffin, with the body of Paula Schultz, in the back of the flatbed.