So when Andy Dufresne came to me in 1949 and asked me to smuggle Rita Hayworth into the prison for him, I told him no problem. And it wasn't.

CON

Fresh fish! Fresh fish today!

Red is joined by HEYWOOD, SKEET, FLOYD, JIGGER, ERNIE, SNOOZE. Most cons crowd to the fence to gawk and jeer, but Red and his group mount the bleachers and settle in comfortably.

INT -- PRISON BUS -- DUSK (1947)

Andy sits in back, wearing steel collar and chains.

RED (V.O.)

Andy came to Shawshank Prison in early 1947 for murdering his wife and the fella she was bangin'.

The bus lurches forward, RUMBLES through the gates. Andy gazes around, swallowed by prison walls.

RED (V.O.)

On the outside, he'd been vice-president of a large Portland bank. Good work for a man as young as he was, when you consider how conservative banks were back then.

TOWER GUARD

All clear!

GUARDS approach the bus with carbines. The door jerks open. The new fish disembark, chained together single-file, blinking sourly at their surroundings. Andy stumbles against the MAN in front of him, almost drags him down.

BYRON HADLEY, captain of the guard, slams his baton into Andy's back. Andy goes to his knees, gasping in pain. JEERS and SHOUTS from the spectators.

HADLEY

On your feet before I fuck you up so bad you never walk again.

ON THE BLEACHERS

RED

There they are, boys. The Human Charm Bracelet.

HEYWOOD

Never seen such a sorry-lookin' heap of maggot shit in my life.

JIGGER

Comin' from you, Heywood, you being so pretty and all…

FLOYD

Takin' bets today, Red?

RED

(pulls notepad and pencil)

Bear Catholic? Pope shit in the woods? Smokes or coin, bettor's choice.

FLOYD

Smokes. Put me down for two.

RED

High roller. Who's your horse?

FLOYD

That gangly sack of shit, third from the front. He'll be the first.

HEYWOOD

Bullshit. I'll take that action.

ERNIE

Me too.

Other hands go up. Red jots the names.

HEYWOOD

You're out some smokes, son. Take my word.

FLOYD

You're so smart, you call it.

HEYWOOD

I say that chubby fat-ass…let's see…fifth from the front. Put me down for a quarter deck.

RED

That's five cigarettes on Fat-Ass. Any takers?

More hands go up. Andy and the others are paraded along, forced by their chains to take tiny baby steps, flinching under the barrage of jeers and shouts. The old-timers are shaking the fence, trying to make the newcomers shit their pants. Some of the new fish shout back, but mostly they look terrified. Especially Andy.

RED (V.O.)

I must admit I didn't think much of Andy first time I laid eyes on him. He might'a been important on the outside, but in here he was just a little turd in prison grays. Looked like a stiff breeze could blow him over. That was my first impression of the man.

SKEET

What say, Red?

RED

Little fella on the end. Definitely. I stake half a pack. Any takers?