Insert - Quint's lead-centered baseball bat

 

his calloused hand grabs it up fiercely.

 

INT. RADIO SHACK

 

Brody picks up the radio, flicking on knobs and lights on

the complex console.

 

QUINT (O.S.)

Beg your pardon --

 

ANGLE - DOORWAY

 

Quint appears, silhouetted in the hot light of the door,

raising his bat.

 

QUINT

Duty first and pleasure after --

 

CLOSE - BRODY

 

looking up in horror, covering his face.

 

CLOSE - QUINT

 

Quint brings down the bat with all the strength he can summon.

 

Crash!

 

Sparks fly, lights blink and go out, plastic and sections of

metal ricochet all over the cabin as Quint demolishes the

ship-to-shore radio.

 

Quint takes a happy breath, winks at Brody and hands him the

bat.

 

QUINT

Excuse me!

 

Brody's adrenaline turns his fear into rage. His glasses are

cracked or broken by flying pieces of radio. He seizes the

bat, and pound the shattered radio for emphasis.

 

BRODY

Some great idea! Now where are we?

Some goddamn skipper you are. You're

certifiable, y'know that? You're a

real treat! Certifiable! Bananas!

 

His tirade is interrupted by an urgent bellow from Hooper.

 

CLOSE - HOOPER

 

Pointing at the fin.

 

HOOPER

Coming right to us!

 

QUINT

No -- comin' right at us! Slow ahead,

he'll hit us head on --

(the engine clanks)

Slower! Throttle back ---

 

ANGLE - OVER THE BOW

 

QUINT

(raising harpoon)

Hard to port!

 

Hooper pulls the boat into a tight turn and Quint has a shot

at the upward rolling flank. He sinks it with careful

precision.

 

QUINT

Try shakin' that out!

 

Brody emerges from the cabin as the rope zips overboard, and

the barrel, changing over, catapults into the air before

plunging into the ocean in a cloudy splash.

 

BRODY

(shouting to Quint)

Did you get him in the head?

 

QUINT

(to Brody)

No! No! No!

(to Hooper)

Swing around! After him!

 

ON THE FLYBRIDGE

 

Hooper can see the fin racing ahead of the barrel. Diving

down. Up again -- Quint prepares another iron. Brody is

digging in his bag. He comes up with his 2".357 service

revolver.

 

QUINT

More gas... go to half! Get me right

alongside him --

 

The engine thuds and knocks.

 

HOOPER

(shouting down)

We can't rev it up this high --

 

Suddenly the barrel gongs into the side of the Orca.

 

QUINT

Watch it!

 

Hooper skillfully avoids the speeding rope.

 

QUINT

Atta boy!

 

Quint leans to one side, harpoon over his head. The Great

White breaks water and...

 

QUINT

Take two, they're small!

 

He sinks it deep. We hear shots. As the new rope whips out,

Brody can be seen standing on the gunwale, in regulation

police combat pistol stance, holding his.357 in both hands,

firing at the shark's head.

 

Quint shakes his head in amused disbelief at this, as the

barrel goes over.

 

HOOPER

(shouting at Brody)

Don't shoot him any more! He's crazy

on his own blood already!

 

BRODY

I can't stand here doing nothing!

 

QUINT

Order in the court!

 

WATER LEVEL ANGLE

 

He has seen the two barrels pop to the surface.

 

QUINT

(racing over)

Three'll do it! He's havin' trouble

with two!

 

He yells to Hooper and Brody as he swings behind the controls.

 

QUINT

Grab yourselves a couple of poles!

 

Quint steers "Slow Ahead," engine protesting, as he maneuvers

toward the moving barrels. Quint peers down, steering closer

and closer.

 

QUINT

Get ready! Now snag 'em!

 

Together Brody and Hooper hook a barrel-rope and hold on for

dear life as the shark changes course.

 

QUINT

Pull in the ropes and tie 'em onto

the transom -- free ride.

 

Brody and Hooper pull in with all they are worth as Quint

helps out by wheeling in a circle. He laughs to himself,

enjoying the spectacle.

 

CLOSE - HOOPER

 

securing the rope to a cleat but allowing the barrel to hang

overboard. Brody ties his now-perfect bowline adjacent cleat.

 

WIDE ANGLE - ORCA

 

The boat is jarred violently from side to side as the

underwater force of the Great White jerks and heaves them to

and fro, up and down, side to side...

 

ANGLE - HOOPER AND BRODY

 

are both torn off their feet as the boat is thrust forward.

 

FLYBRIDGE - QUINT

 

sees the fin ahead. It is pulling the boat.

 

QUINT

Get tired! That's the idea! Here's a

little reverse for you!

 

The shark leaps partially out of the water, and the sight is

both horrifying and awesome. Its jaws break water, snapping

at the ropes that have him snarled and frustrated.

 

Quint throws the Orca into neutral and shouts down:

 

QUINT

Haul in -- watch the prop!

 

With that, Quint slides down to the prow, putting another

shaft onto his gun, finding satisfaction in its heft and

balance. The shark can be seen directly ahead, threshing

closer.

 

QUINT

Now! Untie 'em! Quick! He'll tear us

to pieces.

 

He fires the iron, and the shark veers downward in a gushing

shower of spray.

 

HOOPER AND BRODY

 

They are trying to untie from the cleats, but both ropes are

stretched too taut. They jump out of the way, falling flat

 

on the deck as the ropes sweep over them, knocking over

objects, skeetering across the deck. A tight jerking motion,

and the Orca is dragged through the water -- backwards. And

much too fast. Water is splashing up over the transom in its

backward wake. The engines groan and complain.

 

QUINT

Damn head is too far away. He's too

big.

 

Wrenched to one side, Quint is knocked from his feet.

 

CLOSE - THE TWO CLEATS

 

A moment of slackness, and then a great surge of raw strength.

 

The rope snaps the cleats off, screws and splintered wood

spraying -- and the barrels fly over the water. They disappear

beneath the turbulent grey surface.

 

The three men, breathing heavily, bruised and pouring sweat,

look out at the blank water.

 

ANGLE - OCEAN

 

Pop -- pop -- pop. One, two, three, the barrels surface --

ready for more.

 

QUINT

(amazed at the shark's

strength)

He can't go so deep. Not with all

those on him.

 

Brody looks down at his feet. There is salt water up to their

shoe tops.

 

BRODY

What about us?

 

QUINT

(mentally assessing

the damage)

Have to pump her steady, s'all.

 

The barrels start a wide circle, each cuts through the water,

pushing a wave before it and leaving a wake behind.

 

QUINT

(to Hooper)

Follow him --

(to Brody)

You start pumpin' out here.

 

Quint tosses Brody the hand pump, then picks up his M-1, and

checks the load.

 

HOOPER (O.S.)

(on bridge)

He's heading under --!

 

QUINT

(incredulously)

No way! He can't!

 

ANGLE - OCEAN

 

The barrels approaching the Orca dip below the surface, one --

two -- three.

 

BRODY

Where'd he go?

 

Brody looks around. Hooper on the flying bridge searching in

all directions. Quint is looking more appalled every second.

 

QUINT

(helplessly)

He can't stay down with three barrels

on him! Where is he?!

 

BRODY

Have you ever had one do this?

 

QUINT

(and he means this)

No!

 

Booming thud at the keel. Brody slides on the wet deck and

Quint loses his footing, falling into Brody's arms.