DAYS OF HEAVEN by Terry Malick REVISED: 6/2/76

CAST OF CHARACTERS\nBILL: A young man from Chicago following the harvest.\nABBY: The beautiful young woman he loves.\nCHUCK: The owner of a vast wheat ranch (\"bonanza\") in the Texas Panhandle.\nURSULA: Abby's younger sister, a reckless child of14.\nBENSON: The bonanza foreman, an enemy of the newcomers.\nMISS CARTER: Chief domestic at the Belvedere, Chuck's home.\nMcLEAN: Chuck's accountant.\nGEORGE: A young pilot who interests Ursula. \nA PREACHER, A DOCTOR, AN ORGANIST, VARIOUS HARVEST HANDS, LAWMEN, VAUDEVILLIANS, etc.\n

\"Troops of nomads swept over the country at harvest time like a visitation of locusts, reckless young fellows, handsome, profane, licentious, given to drink, powerful but inconstant workmen, quarrelsome and difficult to manage at all times. They came in the season when work was plenty and wages high. They dressed well, in their own peculiar fashion, and made much of their freedom to come and go.\"\n

\"They told of the city, and sinister and poisonous jungles all cities seemed in their stories. They were scarred with battles. They came from the far-away and unknown, and passed on to the north, mysterious as the flight of locusts, leaving the people of Sun Prairie quite as ignorant of their real names and characters as upon the first day of their coming.\"\t\t\t\t\t\tHamlin Garland, Boy Life on the Prairie (1899) \n

WORKERS in a dark Chicago mill pound molten iron out in flaming sheets. The year is 1916.\n

BILL, a handsome young man from the slums, and his brother\nSTEVE sit outside on their lunch break talking with an\nolder man named BLACKIE. By the look of his flashy clothes\nBlackie is not a worker.\n

Listen, if I ever seen a tit, this here's a tit. You understand? Candy. My kid sister could do this one. Pure fucking candy'd melt in your hand. Don't take brains. Just a set of rocks. I told you this already.\n

Blackie, you told me it was going to snow in the winter, I'd go out and bet against it. You know?\n

Okay, all right, fine. Why should I be doing favors for a guy that isn't doing me any favors? I must be losing my grip.\n

I got to give it to you, though. Couple of guys look like you just rolled in on a wagonload of chickens. You ever get laid?\n

Without a lot of talk, I mean? 'Cause I'm beginning to understand these guys, go down the hotel, pick something up for a couple of bucks. It's clean, and you know what you're in for.\n

Sam the Collector's GANG swaggers around in the alley behind a textile plant. ONE of them has filed his teeth down to points and stuck diamonds in between them. ANOTHER wears big suspenders.\nSam and Bill appear to know one another.\n

Hey, Billy, you made a mistake. You made somebody mad. Nothing personal, okay? It's just gotta be done. You made a mistake. Happens in the best of families.\n

I could do something, you know. You guys wanta do something to me, I know who to tell about it. You guys ought to think about that. \n

You maybe already did something. Maybe that's why you're here, on account of you already done something.\n

Cut it out, Billy, all right? You know what can happen to a guy that doesn't wanta do what people tell him? You know. So don't give us a lot of trouble. You're liable to get everybody all pissed off.\n

Bill puts his hand on the ground. Sam drops a keg of roofing nails on it and, his work done, leaves with his gang. Bill sobs with pain.\n

Bill and Steve drag a safe by a rope through a vacant lot beyond the mill. Blackie walks behind.\n

You know what I'm doing with my end? Buy a boat. Get that? I had a boat. I had a nice apartment, I had a boat. Margie don't like that. We got to have a house. \"I can't afford no house,\" I said. She says, \"Sell the boat.\" I didn't want to sell my boat. I didn't want to buy the house. I sell the boat, I buy the house. Nine years we had the house, eight of them she's after me, we should get another boat. I give up.\n

Same as always, I do all the work, you gripe about it.\nSuddenly FOUR POLICEMEN surprise them from ambush. Bill lets go of the rope and starts to run. Steve does not give up immediately, however, and they shoot him down. Bill picks up Steve's gun and fires back. Three of the Policemen go chasing after Blackie, whom they soon bring to heel. The FOURTH stays behind taking potshots at Bill while he attends to Steve.\n

I love you so much. Why didn't you run. Don't die.\nSteve dies. Bullets kick up dust around him. He takes off running. One of the bullets has caught him in the shoulder.\n

ABBY, a beautiful woman in her late twenties, attends to Bill's wounds in a big vaulted sewer. Her sister URSULA, a reckless girl of14, stands watch.\n

They shot the shit out of him. My brother. I couldn't believe what I was seeing.\n

I love you, Abby. You're so good to me. Remember how much fun we had, on the roof...\n

Bill and Abby flirt on the root of a tenement, happily in love. The city stretches out behind them.\n

Abby lies shivering with fever. Bill spoons hot soup into her mouth. Ursula rolls paper flowers for extra change.\n

Bill works in the glow of a blast furnace. He does not seem quite in place with the rest of the workers. A pencil moustache lends a desired gentlemanliness to his appearance. He looks fallen on hard times, without ever having known any better--like Chaplin, an immigrant lost in the heartless city, with dim hopes for a better way of life.\n

I won't let you go back in the mill. People die in there. I'm a man, and I can look out for you.\n

Along a railroad spur outside the mill, Abby and Ursula glean bits of coal that have fallen from the tenders.\n

A POLICEMAN, looking for Bill, roughs Abby up behind the tenement where they live. Suddenly Bill runs out from a doorway and slams him over the head with a clay pitcher full of water.\n

Bill shrugs, then hits him again, knocking him unconscious, when he reaches for a gun. Abby calls Ursula and they take off running, Bill stopping only to collect some of their laundry off a clothesline.\n

The CREDITS run over black and white photos of the Chicago they are leaving behind. Pigs roam the gutters. Street urchins smoke cigar butts under a stairway. A blind man hawks stale bread. Dirty children play around a dripping hydrant. Laundry hangs out to dry on tenement fire escapes. Police look for a thief under a bridge. Irish gangs stare at the camera, curious how they will look. The CREDITS end.\n

Abby and Bill sit atop a train racing through the wheat country of the Texas Panhandle.\n

Everybody does.\nThey laugh. She is dressed in men's clothes, her hair tucked up under a cap. They are sharing a bottle of wine.\n

I love how nice and hard your shoulders are. And your hair is light. You're not a soft, greasy guy that puts bay rum on every night.\n

They share the boxcar with a crowd of other HARVEST HANDS. Ursula is among them, also dressed like a man. Bill gestures out at the landscape.\n

Look at all that space. Oweee! We should've done this a long time ago. It's just us and the road now, Abby.\n

The train slows down to take on water. The hands jump off. Each carries his \"bindle\"-- a blanket and a few personal effects wrapped in canvas. TOUGHS with ax handles are on hand to greet them.\nThe harvesters speak a Babel of tongues, from German to Uzbek to Swedish. Only English is rare. Some retain odd bits of their national costumes, they are pathetic figures, lonely and dignified and so far from home. Others, in split shoes and sockless feet, are tramps. Most are honest workers, though, here to escape the summer heat in the factories of the East. They dress inappropriately for farm work, in the latest fashions.\n

Bill struts around with a Napoleonic air, in a white Panama hat and gaiters, taking in the vista. Under his arm he carries a sword cane with a pearl handle. It pleases him, in this small way, to set himself apart from the rest of toiling humanity. He wants it known that he was born to greater things.\n

Name is Morrison.\nBill looks around to see whether Abby has seen this. She hasn't. He walks dizzily off down the tracks.\n

Nothing.\nShe is a sultry beauty--emancipated, full of bright hopes and a zest for life. Her costume does not fool the men. Wherever she goes they ogle her insolently.\nEXT. WAGONS\nThe FOREMEN of the surrounding farms wait by their wagons to carry the workers off. A flag pole is planted by each wagon. Those who do not speak English negotiate their wages on a blackboard.\nBENSON, a leathery man of fifty, bellows through a megaphone. In the background a NEWCOMER to the harvest talks with a VETERAN.\n

Who're you kidding?\nBill mills around. They have no choice but to accept his offer.\n

Transcriber's Note: the following seven lines of dialogue between the NEWCOMER and the VETERAN runs concurrent with the previous six lines of dialogue between Benson and Bill and Abby. In the original script they are typed in two columns running side-by-side down the page.\n

Get on.\nHe snaps his fingers at her. Bill climbs up ahead of the women. Anger makes him extremely polite.\n

You don't need to say it like that.\nBenson ignores this remark but dislikes Bill from the first.\n

Benson's wagons roll across the plains toward the Razumihin, a \"bonanza\" or wheat ranch of spectacular dimensions, its name spelled out in whitewashed rocks on the side of a hill.\n

The wagons pass under a large arch, set in the middle of nowhere, like the gates to a vanished kingdom. Goats peer down from on top.\nBill looks at Abby and raises his eyebrows.\n

At the center of the bonanza, amid a tawny sea of grain, stands a gay Victorian house, three stories tall. Where most farm houses stand more sensibly on low ground, protected from the elements, \"The Belvedere\" occupies the highest ridge around, commanding the view and esteem of all.\nFiligrees of gingerbread adorn the eaves. Cottonwood saplings, six feet high, have recently been planted in the front. Peacocks fuss about the yard. There is a lawn swing and a flagpole, used like a ship's mast for signaling distant parts of the bonanza. A wind generator supplies electric power.\nA white picket fence surrounds the house, though its purpose is unclear; where the prairie leaves off and the yard begins is impossible to tell.\nBison drift over the hills like boats on the ocean. Bill shouts at the nearest one.\n

CHUCK ARTUNOV, the owner--a man of great reserve and dignity, still a bachelor--stands on the front porch of the Belvedere high above, observing the new arrivals.\n

Benson drops the hands off at the dormitory, a hundred yards below, a plain clapboard building with a ceiling of exposed joists. Ursula sees Chuck watching them.\n

The owner's. Don't none of you go up around his place. First one that does is fired. I'm warning you right now.\n

In the warm July weather most of the hands forsake the dorm to spread their bedrolls around a strawpile or in the hayloft of the nearby barn.\n

Bill lifts a big rock. Abby applauds. Ursula kneels down behind\nhim. Abby pushes him over backwards.\n

Ursula gasps as Abby tumbles off the roof of the barn and falls through the air screaming:\n

Bill takes Abby by the hands, spins her around until she is thoroughly dizzy, then grasps her across the chest.\n

Ready?\nShe giggles her consent. He crushes her in a bear hug until she is just on the verge of passing out, then lets her go. She sinks to the grass, in a daze of sweet intoxication.\n

Bill looks deeply into Abby's eyes by the light of a lantern that night. They have made a shallow cut on their thumbs and press them together mixing their blood like children.\n

You're all I've got, Abby. No, really, everything I ever had is a complete piece of garbage except you.\n

The sun peers over the horizon. The wheat makes a sound like a waterfall. It stretches for as far as the eye can see. A PREACHER has come out, in a cassock and surplice, to offer prayers of thanksgiving.\n

\"... that your days may be multiplied, and the days of your children, in the land which the Lord swore unto your fathers to give them, as the days of' heaven upon the earth.\"\nThe harvesters spit and rub their hands as they wait for the dew to burn off. They have slept in their coats. The dawn has a raw edge, even in summer.\n

Chuck looks to see if the wheat is ready to harvest. He shakes the heads; they make a sound like paper. He snaps off a handful, rolls them between his palms, blows away the chaff and pinches the kernels that remain to make sure they have grown properly hard.\nTiny sounds are magnified in the early morning stillness:\ngrasshoppers snapping through the air, a cough, a distant hawk.\nHe pops the kernels into his mouth, chews them up, and rolls the wad around in his mouth. Satisfied, he spits it out and gives a nod. The Preacher begins a prayer of thanksgiving. Two ACOLYTES flank him, one with a smoking censer, the other with a crucifix.\nAll repeat the \"Amen.\" Benson makes a tugging signal with his arm. A Case tractor--forty tons of iron, steam-driven, as big and as powerful as a locomotive--blasts its whistle. This is the moment they have been waiting all year for.\n

A SIGNALMAN with two hand flags passes the message on from the crest of a nearby hill. In the far-flung fields of the bonanza other tractors answer as other crews set to work.\nAbby and Bill join in, Bill reaping the wheat with a mowing machine called a binder, Abby propping the bound sheaves together to make bunches or \"shocks.\"\nA cloud of chaff rises over the field, melting the sun down to a cold red bulb.\nAbby is well turned out, in a boater and string tie, as though she were planning any moment to leave for a picnic.\nBill, too, dresses with an eye to flashy fashion: Tight dark trousers, a silk handkerchief stuck in the back pocket with a copy of the Police Gazette, low-top calfskin boots with high heels and pointed toes, a shirt with ruffled cuffs, and a big signet ring. While at work he wears a white smock over all this to keep the chaff off. It gives him the air more of a researcher than a worker.\nThe harvesters itch madly as the chaff gets into their clothes. The shocks, full of briars, cut their hands; smut and rust make the cuts sting like fire. Nobody talks. From time to time they raise a chant.\nUrsula, plucking chickens by the cookhouse--a shack on wheels-- steals a key chain from an unwatched coat.\nBenson follows the reapers around the field in a buggy. He keeps their hours, chides loafers, checks the horses, etc. The harvesters are city people. Few of them are trained to farming. Most--Abby and Bill are no exception--have contempt for it and anybody dull enough to practice it. Tight control is therefore exercised to see that the machines are not damaged. \nWhere the others loaf whenever Benson's back is turned, Bill works like a demon, as a point of pride.\n

Lightning shivers through the clouds along the horizon. Chuck looks concerned. Benson consults a windsock.\n

They must be having trouble over there, though.\nAbby, passing by, lifts her hat to wipe her face. As she does her hair falls out of the crown. Women are rare in the harvest fields. One so beautiful is unprecedented.\n

A COOK stands on the horizon waving a white flag at the end of a fishing pole. Ursula bounds through the wheat blowing a horn.\nBenson consults the large clock strapped to the back of his buggy, then fires a smoke pistol in the air.\nTheir faces black with chaff, the hands fall out in silence. They shuffle across the field toward the cookhouse, keeping their feet close to the ground to avoid being spiked by the stubble.\n

The COOKS, Orientals in homburgs, serve from planks thrown across sawhorses. The hands cuff and push each other around as they wash up. The water, brought up fresh in wagons from the wells, makes them gasp. An ice wagon and a fire truck are parked nearby.\nMost sit on the ground to eat, under awnings or beach umbrellas dotted around the field like toadstools. The Belvedere is visible miles away on the horizon.\nBill is carrying Abby's lunch to her when a loutish DUTCH MAN makes a crack.\n

Your sister keep you warm at night?\nBill throws a plate of stew at him and they are quickly in a fight. No fists are used, just food. The others pull them apart. Bill storms away, flicking mashed potatoes off his shirt.\n

Bill and Abby sit by themselves in the shade of a grain wagon. Demoralized, Abby soaks her hands in a pail of bran water. Bill inspects them anxiously. They are swollen and cracked from the morning's work.\n

Didn't you ever learn how to take care of yourself? I told you to keep the gloves on. What can I do if you don't listen?\nBill presses her wrists against his cheek, ashamed that he can do nothing to shield her from such indignities. In the b.g. a MAN with a fungo bat hits flies to SOME MEN with baseball gloves.\n

That bunch? Don't compare yourself to them.\nShe flexes her fingers. They seem lame.\n

You drop off this weak. I can make enough for us both. It was a crime to bring you out here. Somebody like you.\n

Maybe you should go back to Chicago. We've got enough for a ticket, and I can send you what I make.\nHe seems a little surprised when she does not reject this idea out of hand. Perhaps he fears that if she ever did go back, he might never see her again.\n

The men knock out their pipes as Benson's whistle summons them back to their stations.\n

Tick tockl Tick tock! Nothing moving but the clock!\nBill pulls Abby to her feet. He sees the Dutchman he fought with and shoots him the finger.\n

Chuck looks on. Something about her captivates hint, not so much her beauty--which only makes her seem beyond his reach--as the way she takes it utterly for granted.\n

The work goes on through the afternoon. The pace is stern and incessant, and for a reason: a storm could rise at any moment and sweep the crops flat, or a dry wind shrivel them up. A series of dissolves gives the sense of many days passing.\nIany moment and sweep the crops flat, or a dry wind shrivel them up.Animals--snakes and gophers, rabbits and foxes--dart through the field into the deep of the wheat, not realizing their sanctuary is growing ever smaller as the reapers make their rounds. The moment will come when they will every one be killed with rakes and flails.\nThe wheat changes colors in the wind, like velvet. As the sun drops toward the horizon a dew sets, making the straw hard to cut. Benson fires his pistol. A vine of smoke sinks lazily through the sky. As the workers move off, the fields grow vast and inhospitable.\nOil wells can be seen here and there amid the grain.\n

Bill helps Abby finish up a row. Thousands of shocks stretch out in the distance. Benson comes up behind her, making a spray of the stalks that she missed.\n

Then leave. You're fired.\nAbby is speechless. Bill squeezes the small rubber ball which he carries around to improve his grip and swallows his pride.\n

Then shut up and get back to work.\nBenson leaves. Abby covers Bill's embarrassment.\n

I guess he meant it.\nShe turns her back to him and goes about picking up the sheaf Benson threw down.\n

He did. Ask him. If you can't sing or dance, what do you do in this world? You might as well forget it.\nIsing or dance, what do you do this world? You might as wellu\nrorget it.\n

Their day's work done, the men swim naked in a stock pond.\nTheir faces are black, their bodies white as a baby's.\nA retriever plunges through the water fetching sticks.\n

A physician's wagon stands in front of the Belvedere.\nBill hunts nervously through it for medicine to soothe Abby's \nhands. Not knowing quite what to look for, he sniffs whatever \ncatches his eye. \nSuddenly the front door opens and Chuck steps out with a DOCTOR, a stooped old man in a black frock coat. Bill, surprised, crouches behind the wheel. As they draw closer their conversation becomes faintly audible.\n

How long you give it?\nDOCTOR (o.s.)\nCould be next month. Could be a year. Hard to say. Anyway, I'm sorry.\n

The Doctor snaps his whip at the horses. Bill grabs holdI\nThe Doctor snaps his whip at the horses. Bill grabs hold of the back of the wagon and lets it drag him away from the Belvedere.the Belvedere. -\n

Ursula and Abby case the barn for dinner. Abby points at a pair of peacocks strutting by, nods to Ursula and puts a finger over her lips. Ursula, with a giggle, followsone while Abby stalks the other.\n

The peacock, a resplendent white, leads Abby through a bright yellow rapeseed field. It keeps just out of reach, as though it were enticing her on.\nas though it were enticing her on.'U\nAll at once she looks up with a start. Chuck is standing in front of her, \ndressed in his habitual black. The Belvedere rises behind him like a \ncastle in a fairy tale. She remembers Benson's warning that this is forbidden ground.\n

We hardly ever see a woman on the harvest.\nThere is a small rip in the side of her shirt, which the camera observes with Chuck. She pulls her sweater over it.\n

Wyoming and places. I've never been up that way. You think I'll like it?\nHe shrugs. Shy at first, she begins to open up.\n

Bill finds Ursula roasting a peacock on a spit. She has arranged some of its tail feathers in her hair.\n

Depends how people are with me. Where's Abby? I found her something.\nHe holds out a jar of salve. Ursula shrugs.\n

47\tEXT. STRAW STACK - MAGIC HOURMost of the workers are fast asleep around the strawplU\n

Most of the workers are fast asleep around the strawpile, their bodies radiating out like the spokes of a wheel. A few stay up late to shoot dice in the back of a wagon.\n

Abby and Bill have laid their bedrolls out by a stack away from the others. A fire burns nearby. Abby look at the stars. Bill shines his shoes. The straw is fragrant as thyme.\n

I know. I told you though, this is only for a while. Then we're going to New York.Then we're New York. \n

You mean spend one night in a flophouse and start looking for work.\nThey are silent for a moment.\n

Someday, when I'm dying, I'd like somebody to ask me if I\nstill see life the same way as before--and I'd like them to\nwrite down what I say. It might be interesting.I\nSuddenly they look around. The chief domestic at the Belvedere, a churlish lady named MISS CARTER, stands above them with a salver of fruit and roast fowl.\n

What's going on? Who sent it?\nShe nods up toward the Belvedere and sets it down.I\n

What for?\nShe withdraws with a shrug. She does not appear to relish \nthis duty. Bill watches her walk back to the buggy she \ncame down in. Benson waits beside it.U\n

Abby, with the look of a child that has wandered into aI\nmagic world, digs in. Bill looks on, suspicious of the_\nmotives behind this generosity.\n

A bank of clouds moves across the moon. Ursula roams the fields, keen with unsatisfied intelligence. The stubble hisses as a hot wind blows up from the South, driving bits of grain into her face like sleet. From time to time she does a cartwheel.\nEquipment cools in the fields. Little jets of steam escape the \nboilers of the tractors.Ursula stops in front of a donkey well. It nods up and down in ceaseless agreement, pumping up riches from deep\nin the earth.\n

The camera moves through the bedroom window to find Chuck \nasleep on his pillow. The wind taps the curtain into the room.\n

Chuck dreams of a Biblical figure with a long plaited room.U52EXT. Chuck dreams of a Biblical figure with a long plaited \nbeard, in a frock coat and Astrakhan hat, sitting in a_\nchair on the open prairie, guarding his land with a brace \nof guns. This man will later be identified as his FATHER. \n

Hold your horses!I\nThe huge tractors start up with a bang. Despite Benson's warning a team of Percherons breaks free. Threshing, the separating of the wheat from the chaff, has begun.\n

Sixty foot belts connect the tractors to the separating machines, huge rattletrap devices that shell the wheat out at deafening volume. Benson tosses bundles down the hissing maw, squirts oil into the gears, tightens belts, chews out a MAN who's sliced a hand on the driveshaft, etc. \nBill works on the straw pile at the back of the machine, in a soft rain of chaff, spreading it out with a pitchfork. \nUrsula helps stoke the tractor with coal and water. When nothing is required of her she sneaks off to burrow in the straw. \nGingerbread on the eaves of the tractors gives them a Victorian appearance. Tall flags mark their position in the field.\nAbby moves quickly, without a moment's rest, sewing up the\nsacks of grain as they are measured out at the bottom of\nthe separator. A clowning WORKER comes up and smells herU\nlike a flower.\n

Chuck and McLEAN, his accountant, sit on a ridge away from the chaff, in the shade of a beach umbrella. \nChuck keeps track of operations through a telescope. Our last view of Abby, we realize, was from his POV. A plush Empire couch has been drawn up for his to rest in. At a table beside it, McLean computes the yield.\n

This must be wrong. No, dammit, nineteen bushels an acre.\nChuck sails his hat out in the stubble with a whoop.\nMcLean leans over his adding machine, cackling like a thief. \n

Say it goes at fifty-five cents a bushel, that means a profit of\nfour dollars and seventy-five cents per acre. Multiply by twenty\nthousand and you're talking over six figures.I\n

You ought to get out while you're this far ahead. You'll never do\nbetter. I mean it. You have nothing to gain by staying.U nothing to gain by staying. I\n

I want to expand. I want to run this land clear to the Oklahoma border. Next spring I will. \n

I been out here all my life. Selling this place would be like\ncutting my heart out. This is the only home I ever had. ThisI\nis where I belong. Besides, I don't want to live in town.\nI couldn't take my dogs.I\n

Bill drinks from the water barrel at the back of Benson'sU\nbuggy, his eyes fixed on Chuck's distan\n

No.I\nBill puts his hat back on. He keeps wet cottonwood leaves in the crown to cool himself off.\n

Why's that guy dragging an expensive piece of furniture out here? Reason\nI ask is he's going to ruin thefinish and have to strip it.I\nBenson hesitates, uncertain whether he might be divulging\na confidence.\n

What's the matter with him?I\nBenson immediately regrets having spoken so freely. He checks his watch to suggest Bill should get back to work. This uneasiness confirms Bill's sense that Chuck is gravely ill.\n

Abby is sewing up her last sacks by the separator that evening when Chuck walks up, still in the flush of McLean's good news.\nThe others have finished and left to wash up. He sits down and helps her. Shy and upright, he does not know quite how to behave with a woman.\n

You still plan on going North?\nShe nods and draws her last stitch. Chuck musters his courage. It must be now or never.\n

Reason I ask is maybe you'd like to stay on. Be easier than now. There's hardly any work after harvest. The pay is just as good, though. Better in fact.\n

Why're you offering me this? My honest face?\nChuck takes a moment to compose his reply.\n

As Bill and Abby bathe in the river that evening, he tells her what he seems to have learned about Chuck's state of health. Down the way Ursula sits under a tree playing a guitar. Otherwise they are alone. They all wear bathing suits, Bill a shirt as well.\n

So what?\nBill shrugs. Does he have to draw her a picture? A shy, virginal light has descended over the world. Cranes peer at them from the tamarack.\n

What for?\nBill is wondering what might happen if Chuck got interested enough to marry her. Isn't he soon to die, leaving a vast inheritance that will otherwise go to waste?\n

You know I love you, don't you?\nABBY Yes.\nAbby guesses what is going through his mind, and it shocks her.\n

What else can we really do? I know how you feel, but we keepon this way, in five years we'll be washed up.\nHe catches a stick drifting by and throws it further down stream.\n

You ever think about all those ladies parading up and downU\nMichigan Avenue? Bunch of whores! You're better than anyI\nof them. You ever think how they got where they are?\nHe wants to breathe hope into her. He thinks of himself as responding\nto what she needs and secretly wants. When she does not answer he gives up with a sigh.\n

I know what you mean, though.\nHe takes her hand, with fresh hope of convincing her. \n

We weren't meant to end up like this. At least you weren't.\nYou could be something. I've heard you sing. You have a lot\nof fine qualities that need to come out. Ursula, too. What.U\nkind of people is she meeting\nup with, riding the rods? The girl's never had a clean shot--\nnever will. She oughta be in school.\n

But I do. You know I do. This just shows how much. We're shitI\nout of luck, Abby. People need luck. What're you crying about? Oh, \ndon't tell me. I already know. All on account of your unhappy life and all\nthat stuff. Well, we gotta do something about it, honey. We can't expect\nanybody else to.\nAbby runs into the woods.U\n

Always the lady! Well, you don't know how things work in this country. This is why every hunkie I ever met is going nowhere.\n

You people get hold of the guy that's passing out dough, giveI\nhim my name, would you? I'd appreciate it.\n

Bill skims rocks off the water to calm himself down. HeI\nfeels that somehow he did not get to say what he wanted to.U\n

Abby is dressing in the cool woven shade of the woods when\nUrsula, her face caked with a mask of river mud, jumps from the bushes with a shriek, scaring the wits out of her sister.\n

On their way home they pass the Belvedere. A single light\nburns on the second floor. Abby picks cornflowers to put\nin her hair. Bill runs his hand down her back.\n

Why're you touching me that way?\nHe shrugs. Muffled by the walls of the house, above the cries of the peafowl, they can faintly hear Chuck singing to himself.\n

He might be singing to God.\nThey look at each other and smile. It does not appear that she has held what he said by the river against him. Bill stands for a moment and looks up at the Belvedere before passing on.\n

Work goes on the next day. As they near the last sheaves of unthreshed grain, hundreds of rats burst out of hiding. The harvesters go after them with shovels and stones. The dogs chase down the ones that escape.\n

We should be done around four.\nThey improvise a chat about past harvests. Years of shared hardship have drawn them close. Chuck trails off in the middle of a reminiscence. Something else weighing on his mind.\n

The threshing is done. A bundle is pitched into the separator backwards, snapping it abruptly to a stop. The drive belt whips along the ground like a mad snake. \n

All hands line up at the payroll table. McLean gives out their wages in twists of newspaper. Chuck and Benson shake their hands.\n

And I let somebody like that get away from me. Redhead. Lost her to a guy named Ed. Just let it happen. Should've gone out there outside the city\nlimits and shot him. I just about did, too.\n

If you're knocking yourself out like this, I hope it's for a woman. And I hope she's good looking. You understand?\n

Abby snatches a cigarette out of Ursula's mouth, takes a drag and throws it away. When Ursula goes to pick it up, she stamps it out.\n

I'm not going to sit around and watch you throw your life away.\nNobody's going to look at you twice if you've got nothing to\nyour name.\nUrsula dislikes meddlesome adults. She takes out a pouch of tobacco to roll another cigarette. Abby swats it out of her hand and chases her off.\n

There are feats of strength and prowess as workers from the many fields of the bonanza join to celebrate the harvest home: boxing, wrestling, barrel jumping, rooster bouts, bear hugs, \"Crack the Whip\" and nut fights. Two tractors, joined by a heavy chain, vie to see which can outpull the other. Chuck lifts the back wheel of the separator off the ground; Benson replies by holding an anvil at arm's length; they tease each other about showing off. A GYMNAST does flips. They all seem happy as kids on holiday.\n

Two TEAMS of harvesters have a tug of war. The losers are dragged through a pit of mud. Cradling handfuls of slime, they chase the winners off into the dusk.\n

Bill finds Abby sitting off by herself, wanting no part of the festivities. This is the first time since their arrival in Texas we have seen her wearing a dress.\n

Sunny Jim, look at this. My first ice cream in six months. And the lady even asks do I want sprinkles on top, thank you. Big, deep dish of ice cream. You couldn't pay me to leave this place, Got you one, too. You should've heard the line I had to give her, though. Oowee!\n

Now you're trying to coax me. You never used to act like this.\nBill throws down the bowls of ice cream. In the distance, some MEN compete at throwing a sledge hammer.\n

For as long as I can remember, people been giving me a hard time about one thing or another. Don't you start in, too!\n

We don't have to decide anything final now. Just if we're going to\nstay. You never have to touch him if you don't feel like it. Minute\nyou get fed up, we take off. Worst that can happen is we had it soft\nfor a while.\n

Or else we can forget it. I'm not going to spend the whole\nafternoon on this, though. That I'm not going to do.\n

Chuck watches from a distance, fearful that tonight may\nbe the last he will ever see of her.U\n

The harvesters shape and dress the final sheaf as a woman.\nThe LAST of them to finish that day carries the effigy at\nthe end of the pole to the Belvedere. His mates follow\nbehind, jeering and throwing dirt clods at him.U\nAby watches. We sense that anything she sees mightI\nfigure in her decision.U\nMars hangs low and red in the western sky._\n

Ursula is looking at her figure in a pocket mirror whenU\na DRUNK appears behind her.I\n

See what happens to you? Little shit. Get out there and make that\nbig money and don't spend time dicking around.\n

A feast is laid on. ONE PERSON rolls a flaming wheel down a hill. ANOTHER sets off a string of firecrackers. GERMANS pelt each other with spareribs. Ursula spears hogsheads out of a pit of hot coals. The YOUNGER MEN tease her. She is too much of a tomboy to interest any of thm seriously. The effigy sits off in a chair by itself.\n1\n

There's a problem. I have to keep my baby sister with me. Someday_ my baby sister with me. Someday\nI'm going to save up enough, see, and send her to school.\n

My brother, too. I can't leave him.I\nAbby fears she has asked too much. Chuck hesitates, but only to suggest he still has the prudence he long since has abandoned.\n

A bonfire burns like a huge eye in the vat of the prairie night. The band strikes up a reel.\nChuck and Abby lead the dancing off, as though to celebrate their agreement. Their giant shadows dance with them. Soon the other harvesters join in.\n

Bill watches Abby dance--it almost seems in farewell to their innocence. After a moment he turns off into the night.I\n

The effigy is held over the flame at the end of a pole until it catches fire. The harvesters prance around in the dark, trading it from hand to hand.\nThe MUSICIANS, drunk and happy, bow their hearts out.\n

While the others pursue their merriment, Bill walks the fields by himself, trembling with grief and indecision. Dawn is breaking. The eastern sky glows like a forge. Suddenly he comes upon a wolf. He catches his breath. \nThe wolf stares back at him for a moment, then turns and pads off into the stubble.\n

Early the next morning the HARVESTERS wander by the hundreds down to the railroad tracks to catch a train for the North, where the crops are just now coming into maturity. A subtle feeling of sadness pervades the group. Bill gives his sword cane away to a MAN who seems to have admired it. The MAN offers him money, but he declines it.\n

Ursula says goodbye to her favorite, a redhead named JOHN. She is hoarse, as always.\n

Maybe in Cheyenne.\nShe nods okay. They both know they will never see each other again. On a sudden impulse she gives him a love note.\n

What's this?\nShe takes it back immediately, but he snatches it away from her and, after a brief, giggling scuffle, hops aboard the train, now picking up speed. Ursula runs along behind, cursing and throwing rocks at him.\n

I told her, \"none of my business Urs, I just hope you're not rolling\naround with some redhead is all.\" She looks me over. \"Why?\" she says, \n\"What've you guys got that redheads don't?\" I pity that kid.\nUrsula runs up and throws herself tearfully into Abby's arms.\n

Abby tends a washing machine driven by a sheep on a treadmill. Chuck\nwatches from the front steps of the Belvedere.\n

Not that I can think of. Not right now.\nMiss Carter, the housekeeper, steps out on the porch and pours a bucket of milk into a cream separator. \n

She takes care of that.\nHe nods at Miss Carter, who conspicuously lets the screen door clap shut as she goes back inside. She misses no opportunity to express her disdain for these newcomers.\nShe and Benson are the only employees seen at the Belvedere. Several dozen others have stayed on after the harvest but they keep to their quarters down at the dorm. \n

Something else might come up.\nIn truth, Chuck does not want to see Abby degraded by menial labor, considering her more a guest than an employee. They look at each other. Abby does not know quite what to make of him\n

Is everything okay down there? In the way of accommodations, I mean.U\nShe nods and waves goodbye.I\n

I like to gamble, and I like to win. I make no bones about it.\nGot to where the guys on Throop Street wouldn't even lag pennies\nwith me on account of I was such a winner. I'm starting out level\nwith you, you understand.\n

Have you ever been in trouble with the law?\nBill looks around. Abby would think it impolitic of him to speak so openly with Chuck.\n

Nothing they could make stick. \nMy problem has always been not having the education. I bullshitted\nmy way into school. They gave me a test. It was ridiculous. I got in fights. Ended up paying for a window. They threw me out. Don't blame them either. Still, I wanted to make something of myself. I mean, guys look at\nyou across a desk, you know what they're thinking. So I went in\nthe mill. Couldn't wait to get in there. Begin at seven, got to have a smile on your face. Didn't work out, though. No matter what you do, sometimes\nthings just don't go right. It gets to you after a while. It gives you that feeling, \"Oh hell, what's the use?\"\n

My dad told me, forget what the people around you are doing. You got enough to worry about without considering what somebody else does. Otherwise you get fouled up. He used to say (tapping his temple)\n\"All you got is this.\" Only one day you wake up, find you're not the smartest guy in the world, never going to come up with the big score. I really believed when I was growing up that somehow I would. I worked like a bastard in that mill. I felt all right about it, though. I felt that somewhere along the line somebody would see I had that special gleam. \"Hey, you, come over here.\" So then I'd go.\nThey are silent for a moment.\n

She likes you, too.\nChuck looks down, feeling transparent in the pleasure he takes at this news.\n

The camera moves back to reveal Abby listening in from the other side of the barn. Her eyes are full of tears. How can Bill prize her so lightly?\n

Bill sits on the ground reading his Police Gazette. Abby walks up and without a word of explanation, slaps him. He jumps up and protests but quickly tapers off. She turns on her heel and leaves.U\nBill sits down feeling misunderstood and abused. Does she think all this pleases him?\n1\n

Chuck, out for a stroll with Abby and Ursula, shows them a fairy ring--a colony of mushrooms growing in a circle thirty feet across.\n

I heard you farmers were big and dumb. You aren't so big. Where do they learn how to?\n

They're so darling! Can you eat them?\nChuck nods. Abby snaps the mushrooms off flush at the ground. The music underscores this moment. She smiles at Chuck as she eats the dark earthy flesh.\n

They pitch rocks at a post and exchange intimacies. Abby has grown more lively.\n

You know sometimes I think there might have been a mixup at the\nhospital where I. was born and that I could actually be the interesting\ndaughter of some big financier. Nobody would actually know.I\n

What a nice thing to say. Look, I hit it. Did you see?\nShe goes right on with their game, as though she attached no great importance to his momentous declaration.\n

Chuck takes Abby's hand for the first time. Abby, startled, gives him a gentle smile, then lets go.\n

Bill sits in a swing and plays a clarinet. The music flows out across the fields like a night breeze from the city. Abby, passing by, glowers at him, as though to ask if things are going along to his satisfaction.\n

They are on a ridge opposite the Belvedere looking at the heavens through Chuck's telescope. Abby tingles with a sense of wonder. Chuck has opened a whole new world to her.\n

You know so much! Would you bring my sister up here and tell\nher some of this stuff?\n

Nearby the grave of Chuck's father stands in helpless witness to Abby's deception. A cottonwood tree rises against the cold blue sky, still as a statue.\n

A hand turns the pages of a book from Chuck's childhood. The text and VOICE reading it are in Russian, the picture of Russian wood folk and animals.\n

Chuck, ten years old, scours up the blade of a scythe. Family effects -- a big green stove, a bird cage, a table stacked with melons and a mirror--stand waiting in front of their half-finished sod house. We see no sign of Chuck's mother.\n

A plow folds back the earth. The roots of the prairie grass twang like harp strings.\nThe plowing done, his father sows the seed. Poverty requires that for a harrow he drag a tree branch in back of his ox. Over his shoulder he carries a rifle.\nChuck blows a horn to chase the blackbirds off the seed.\nA scarecrow is rigged to his back, to make him more intimidating.\n

Chuck's father has caught smallpox. His face is covered\nwith sores. Chuck wants to embrace him, but the father\nwards him off with a long stick as he passes on some last\ninstructions in Russian.\n

The father stands on a ledge above the river, filling his pockets with rocks to weight him down.\n

My father caught smallpox when I was eleven. I fished him out of the river and buried him myself.\n

Chuck heaps the last bit of earth on his father's grave. The stove stands as a marker.\n

Famished, Chuck eats from the carcass of a coyote. Some INDIANS watch him from a ridge.\n

Worked hard, didn't fool around. I never saw a city. Never had\ntime. All I ever did is work.\nHe digs a post hole with a shovel twice his size.\n

I gave my life to that land.\nBut what do I really have now? It'll still be here when I'm gone. It won't remember me.\n

I'd give it all up for you. I could make you happy, too, I think-if only you'd trust me.\nThe camera settles on Ursula, playing with a dog on a seesaw Chuck\nhas built her, then begins to move again, to a long shot of Chuck and \nAbby on the ridge by the telescope. Chuck is proposing.\n

Abby has told him of the proposal. Bill broods over an unlit cigarette. Is this a great blessing or a great misfortune which has befallen them?\n

Before I did. You cold?\nAbby is shivering. Bill takes off his jacket and slips it over her shoulders.\n

But to give him what he wants more than anything? Two, threeI\nmonths of sunshine? He'll never get to enjoy his money anyway.\nWhat're you talking about? We'd be showing him the first good\ntimes of his life.\n

Maybe you're right.\nAt each hint of consent from Abby, Bill feels he must press on.\n

You know what they're going to stick on his tombstone? \"Born\nlike a fool, worked like a mule.\" Two lines.\nAbby cannot say the proposal is devoid of principle. The idea of easing Chuck's imminent death gives them just the shade of a good motive. This would be a trade.\n

Listen, the man's got one foot on a banana peel and the other\non a roller skate. What can I say? We'll be gone before theI\nPresident shows up.\nHe straightens his coat and smooths back his hair, to make her smile, without success.\nBILL Hey, I know how you feel. II\nHey, I know how you feel. I feel just as bad. Like I was sticking an icepick in my heart. Makes me sick just to think about it!\nheart. Makes me sick just to\n

I held out a long time. I could've taken the first guy with a gold watch, but I held out.\n

I know. We're in quicksand, though. We stand around, it's\ngoing to suck us down like everybody else.\n

Somewhere along the line you have to make a sacrifice. Lots of people want to sit back and take a piece without doing nothing. \nHe waits to see how she will respond. Half of him wants her to turn him down flat. Abby is bewildered. \n

You don't have to. I hate it when I see you stooped over and\nthem looking at your ass like you were a whore. I personally\nfeel ashamed! I want to take a .45 and let somebody have it.\n

We got to look on the bright side of this, Ab. Year from\ntoday we got a Chinese butler and no shit from anybody.\n

Some people need more'n they have, some have more'n they need. It's\njust a matter of getting us all together.\n

I don't even know if I believe what I'm saying, though. I\nfeel like we're on the edge of a big cliff. \nAbby looks at the ground for a moment, then nods.\n

The wedding takes place along the river. The Preacher has come back with his ACOLYTES. A chest of drawers serves as the altar. Benson is the best man--a joyless one. Ursula bounces around in a beautiful gown, looking for the first time like a young woman. The BAND practically outnumbers the guests: ELDERS from the local Mennonites, the MAYORS of a few surrounding towns decked out in sashes and medals, etc.\n

Bill kisses the bride on the cheek. Each believes she is going through with this for the other's sake. They whisper back and forth.\n

I love you more than ever. I always will. I couldn't do this unless I loved you.\n

The Acolytes ring an angelus bell. Chuck slips a sapphire on her finger. The Preacher, with outstretched arms, reminds them all that they are witness to a great event. \n

Abby, frightened, looks off at the rolling sky, wondering how all thislooks in the sight of heaven.\n

From her pillow, Abby watches Chuck shyly enter the bedroom\nHe comes over and sits down beside her\n

Bill watches the lights go out in the Belvedere. A lump rises to his throat. How exactly did this happen? He sets his jaw, vowing not to give way to weakness or jealousy. This is the price they have to pay for a lasting\nhappiness.\n

The next morning the newlyweds set off on their honeymoon. \nChuck tells Bill to move his things from the dorm into the Belvedere.\nAbby, a basket of cucumbers under her arm, waves goodbye, angling her wrist so that Bill and Ursula can see the diamond bracelet Chuck has given her.\n

They steer out across the prairie in a1912 Overland auto. Ursula runs after them, slaps the back fender and hops around on one foot, pretending the other was run over. Abby laughs. She knows this stunt.\nWhen they are gone Ursula turns fiercely on Bill.U\n

What for? Don't be any more of a pain in the neck than you gotta\nbe, okay?\nShe swings at him with her fist. He pushes her away._\n

Still think so?\nShe throws a rock at him and runs off. He catches her, repenting of his meanness.\n

I know you can't understand this, but there's nothing I want except good things for Abby and you. Go ahead and hit me back.\nShe hesitates a second, then slaps him as hard as she can. Blood glistens on his lip. He does not say a word in protest. She looks at the wound, horrified, then throws her arms tight around him.\n

Abby and Chuck disembark from a paddleboat steamer at a\npier along the river. Chuck looks excited.\n

Chuck and Abby have gone to Yellowstone Park for their honeymoon. Abby wades in a pool, wreathed by mists from the underworld. She carries a parasol to protect her from the sun. The trees in the vicinity are bare of leaves.\n

Chuck kneels with a box camera to photograph a large pair of antlers lying on the ground.\n

This photo becomes the first in a series from their Yellowstone trip: fishermen displaying sensational catches by a river, buggies vying with early autos on rutted roads, the giant Beaupre who stood eight feet tall, etc. Each of the pictures bears a caption. Together they make a little story.\n

We saw grizzly bears and a boar. The bears scared me the most.\nThey eat garbage.\n

There was a mountain partly made of glass, too, but we didn't get to see it. And a petrified tree.\n

Can we? Because there's a whole lot I didn't get to see.\nBill straightens up. Chuck sits down on Abby's other side.\n

They are having dinner on the lawn in front of the Belvedere. A fine mesh net is spread above them like a tent to keep the insects out. Ursula sits on Bill's lap. He puts a hand up the back of her shirt and they play as though she were a ventriloquist's dummy.\n

Bill displays a rabbit which he trained in their absence to perform a card trick.\n

I have you now, Ed. Only thing that can beat me is the ace of spades. (His name's Ed..) Her name's Abigail. Hungarian name.\n

Andrew drew Ann. Ann drew Andrew.\nFrom the whole of a spread deck it picks the ace of spades.\n

Abby and Chuck applaud. Ursula cranks up the victrola and puts on a record. Bill strokes the rabbit.\n

You know why I like him? He minds his business and isn't full of baloney.\nChuck turns to Abby and, for nearly the first time, smiles.\n

He's funny.\nBill holds a plate up for Abby to see. Limoges china. Abby rolls her eyes and spits out a cherry pit. They eat like pigs, with no respect for bourgeois manners.\n

Stand back. Get the women and children someplace safe.\nChuck, feeling it would be wrong not to enter the spirit of the occasion, does his imitation. The likeness is astonishing. Abby wipes a bit of food off his chin with her napkin. Bill drums on the table with his spoon.\n

How'd you get along so long without a woman?\nChuck shrugs. Ursula makes a gesture as though to say by masturbating. Chuck does not see it. Billy laughs. Abby slaps her. The rabbit jumps out of the way.\n

She's adopted. I had nothing to do with her upbringing. I'd trade her off for a yellow dog.\n

That's what you'd like.\nAbby, overcome with impatience, throws her food to the dogs. Ursula catches a grasshopper and holds it out to Chuck.\n

You give me a quarter to eat this hopper?\nChuck does not reply. She pops it into her mouth anyway, enjoying his look of shock. Bill throws down his fork.\n

All right, okay, nobody's hungry anymore. What's the worst thing you ever did, Chuck? Besides missing church and that kind of stuff.\nChuck thinks about this.\n

Once I turned a man out in the middle of winter, without a cent of pay. For all I know he froze.\n

Well, you're the boss, right? That's how it works. Got to make decisions on the spot. Anyway, this guy-what's his name?--if I know his kind, which I do, he's probably doing okay for himself, got a hand in\nsomebody else's pocket for a change. Is that all?\n

He wants to know. I'm not going to count setting Blackie's \non fire either. He had it coming.\n

Once I punched a guy while he was asleep.\nChuck looks surprised. Bill glances at Abby, worried that he might have said too much.\n

Yeah. I think so.\nChuck gets up to ring for Miss Carter. Bill looks him up and down. Chuck, though older, is physically more imposing.\n

You still believe in Santa Claus.\nBill closes his eyes as he feels the soft fur of the rabbit. Ursula looks around to make sure Chuck is gone, then wings a roll at Bill. It bounces off his forehead. He retaliates with a pat of butter.\n

Benson watches from another hill. He finds his displacement by these newcomers a humiliating injustice.\n

Almost forgot. Here's your pay. Bill takes the envelope Chuck holds out. Then, in a spasm of conscience, he gives it back. \n

Don't worry. I always know to look out for myself, because ifI\nI don't, who will? See what I'm driving at?\nChuck sees a sense of honor at work in Bill here, and\nthough he considers the gesture misguided and a little\ngrand, admires him for it.\n

They play a game with big lace pillows for bases. The\nrules are unintelligible.\n

Bill is expert at throwing knives. As the others watch, he goes into a big windup and pins a playing card to the side of the house.U\nEveryone seems happy and congenial. They have reached some kind of plateau. Chuck's ignorance of the ruse does not cause the others to treat him with less respect. They seem themselves almost to have forgotten it. \n

Benson collects the bases, a job he doubtless feels is beneath him.\nThe Doctor's wagon, unmistakable even at such a great distance, thunders away from the Belvedere.\n

Bill and Abby, waiting for Chuck to join them for a swim,U\nlook questioningly at each other.S\n

Ursula, in her bathing suit, jumps from a ledge above the river. She holds a big umbrella over her to see if it will act as a parachute.\nBill and Chuck have a water fight. Abby wades in the shallows with a parasol.\n

Farther up the slope Bill and Chuck wring out their bathing suits. Bill, thinking of the Doctor's visit, puts a hand on Chuck's shoulder. This time Chuck does not stiffen or ease it off.\n

Sure. Why?\nBill shrugs, beaming with admiration for this man who does not burden others with his secrets.\n

I appreciate everything you've done for Abby. I really do. You've given her all the things she always deserved. I got to admit you have.\nChuck looks off, embarrassed but oddly pleased. Bill snatches up a handful of weeds and smells them.\n.\n

Returning home they portray the movements of the sun, earth and moon \nrelative to each other. Abby is the sun and keeps up a steady pace across \nthe prairie.\nChuck, the earth, circles her at a trot, giving instructions. Bill, with the \nmost strenuous role of all--the moon-- runs around Chuck while he circles Abby.\n

They play golf on the infinite fairway of the prairie. Bill and Abby make a team against Chuck and Ursula. Nightingales call out like mermaids from the sea.\n

Feels good to feel good.\nHe smiles, satisfied that he has done well by her, and lets a new ball slip down his pant leg to replace the one he played.\n

Ursula, meanwhile, grinds Abby's ball into the dirt with the heel of her boot. She winks at Chuck. Chuck smiles back.\n

Her? Like somebody that just got hit on the head. She used to pray for me. Rosary, the stations, everything. \"Hey, Ma,\" I tell her, \"I ain't crippled.\" They don't know, though. They say you're in trouble. They don't know.\n

My dad, the same way. Thought the world owed him a living. He drowned in Lake Michigan.\n

They walk home. Bill stays behind to work on his strokes. Ursula sends the dogs after the balls.\n

Listen, some day all this is going to be mine. Or half is. Somebody like that, you want to get on his good side, not give him a lot of gas. You want to do what he says.\nHe steps off a few paces of his future kingdom and draws a deep breath.\n

This reminds me of where I came from. I left when I was six. That's when I met your sister.\nHe looks at the land with a new sense of reverence. He snatches up a handful of grass and rolls it between his palms.\n

I can't wait to go back to Chicago, bring them down for a visit. Blackie and them. There's a lot of satisfaction in showing up people who thought you'd never amount to anything.\n

I'd really like to see this place run right. I got a lot of ideas I'd like to try out.\n

In the distance he sees Chuck put his arm on Abby's waist and whisper something in her ear. This intimacy rubs him the wrong way. He gives his clubs to Ursula and starts after them.\n

Bill finds them in the kitchen. Chuck goes into the other room to look for something. Abby lifts the cigarette out of Bill's mouth, takes a drag and does a French inhale. Bill kisses her.\n

I met a few I was wrong on, then.\nSuddenly they hear Chuck's footsteps. They pull back just in time, Abby returning the cigarette to him behind her back. They chat as though nothing had happened.\n

I have a headache. I probably should've worn a hat.\nAbby rolls her eyes at this improvisation. No sooner does Chuck turn his back than Bill's hand darts out to touch her breast. He snatches it away a moment before Chuck turns back.\nTogether they walk into the living room.\n

Why do I need to?\nBill catches Abby's eyes. He frowns at the idea of being cooped up with this Mormon all winter.\n

Relaxation. Look at the girls. Opportunity to see how other folks live.\nChuck looks at him blankly. None of these reasons seems to carry\nmuch weight for him. Bill turns to Abby.\n

Somebody is nuts. I don't know whether it's him or me, but somebody is definitely nuts.\n

Maybe I should help you.\nHe follows her back into the kitchen, where he starts to kiss her. She pushes him away and turns to making the tea.\n

Mint.\nBill lifts up the back of her dress and looks under it, testing the breadth of his license. She slaps it back down. He lifts it again, standing on his right to. She glowers at him.\n

One spoonful.\nBill walks around absentmindedly, inspecting Chuck's things, stealing whatever catches his fancy. A book, a paperweight, a bell--things he does not really want and has no use for. His conscience is clear, however; the sacrifices they are making excuse these little sins.\nAs Chuck walks in, Bill has pocketed a candlestick.\n

Where's the candlestick?\nChuck shrugs. Bill gives Abby a cold look and goes outside.\n

Bill drops the candlestick down the well, stands for a moment, then punches the bucket with his fist. He looks up. Benson has seen him.\n

The camera falls through the clouds as though in a lost fragment of Abby's dreams.\n

You come down here a lot, don't you? Always when you're mad. You never change.\n

It might not be my place to say this, sir, but I don't think they're honest people.\n

Why should I regret it? I think they're a pair of scam artists,\nsir. Let me tell you what I've seen, and you judge for yourself.\nChuck, who of course has seen the same things and more, raises a hand to silence him.\n

Maybe you'd be happier taking over the north end till spring. I don't say this in anger. We've been together a long time, and I've always felt about you like, well, close. It just might work out better is all. Less friction.\n

Don't believe me, then. You shouldn't. But why not check it out, sir? Hire a detective in Chicago. It won't cost much. What's there to lose?\nChuck's brow darkens as Benson goes on. For a moment we glimpse the anger that would be unleashed if ever he woke up. Somewhere he already knows the truth but refuses to acknowledge it.\n

You're talking about my wife.\nAnd so Chuck, too, becomes an accomplice in the scheme.\n

Maybe I better pack my things.\nBenson turns and walks off. Chuck watches him go, ashamed at himself. What has this man done but a friend's duty?\n

Abby sits at the dresser in the master bedroom. Bill walks in through the door and tries Chuck's hat on for size.\n

Just walked in through the door, like any other white man.\nOn the bureau he finds a pistol. He aims it out the window. All this will soon be theirs!\n

Smith and Wesson. You ought to see one of these plow into a watermelon.\nShe holds a hairbrush out for him to see. He looks it over and gives it back without comment. He finds a stain on the tabletop.\n

Somebody's been staining this fake inlay with a water glass. Actually I don't blame them.\nHe walks around trying out more of Chuck's appurtenances. Abby, caught up, models a shawl before an imaginary mirror. She blows a kiss at herself.\n

The bed should be over next to the window. Where the view is.\nBill is already making plans for life after Chuck's demise.\n

First the birds go.\nThe peacocks are crowing outside. They burst out laughing. Bill checks the mussed bedsheets.\n

Look, I know you've got urges. It wouldn't be right if you didn't.\nAbby stands up, angry.\n

You act like it's harder on you than me! I never want to talk\nabout this again.\nBill, consoled, holds an eyelet blouse against the light.\n

That's your problem.\nAbby puts on her wedding bracelet and admires it. Bill softens at the sight of her beauty, properly adorned.\n

I told you someday we'd be living in style. When this whole thing is over I'm going to buy you a necklace with diamonds as big as that.\nHe holds out the tip of his little finger. They laugh, as though they suddenly felt the absurdity of all this make-believe.\n

You're cute. Maybe a shade too cute.\nShe touches his face sympathetically, as though to say that she knows the pain this was causing him.\n

Bill sneaks out the back door of' the Belvedere, only to find Benson drinking at the well. They look at each other in silence for a moment. Benson's horse stands beside him, a suitcase fixed to the saddle.\n

That boy's like a son to me. Don't you forget it. I know what you're doing.\nBenson gets on his horse, turns and rides off. Miss Carter waves goodbye from the side of the house. She and Bill exchange a look.\n

Bill finds the others around front. Abby lolls in the hammock writing in her diary and eating a peach. Ursula plays the guitar.\nLittle by little the newcomers have done the house over from the austere structure that it was. Living room furniture has been moved out onto the front lawn and there arranged as though by a child. Goats sleep on the divan. Archery targets hang from the side of the house. The porch is covered with a striped awning, bird cages and twirls of bunting. Everywhere an atmosphere of drunken ease prevails.\n

Listen, I had a great idea. Let's spend Christmas in Chicago. Break\nup the old routine. Rhino's never been to a baseball game or a horse\nrace. I know guys one month off the boat that have. Don't even\nspeak the English language, but they eat it right up.\n

You're just a young guy, Rhino; you oughta be running around\nraising hell. No offense to the little woman.\nHe bows apologetically to Abby. She pinches a dead leaf off a plant.\n

Did you, sis? Well, there's always something doing. I can't\nbegin to tell you. State and Madison? Mmmm. Lights everywhere.\nYou'd love it.\n

Rough? Listen, you can't walk down the street without somebody\nreaching in your pocket! You've got to keep your coat like this\nand poke them away.\n

Doctor said he took it out, but I never saw it. Hurt like a bastard.\nYou got no idea how it hurt.\nSuddenly he worries this might discourage Chuck from going.\n

They won't mess with you, though. Big fella like you. I can see it\nnow.\nHe offers a taste of the talk Chuck is like to provoke on the street corners.\n

\"Hey, hey, hey. Who's this here, fresh out of the African Jungle,\nmoving down the sidewalk with a whowhowho, taking ten feet at a step\nand making all the virgins run for cover? Why, it's Big Rhino, the\nKing of Beasts. He walks, he talks, he sucks up chalk.\"\nBill steps back and sees, as though for the first time, how imposing Chuck really is.\n

You are big, aren't you? Sunny Jim! You must've had a real moose\nfor an old lady.\n

Take it easy.\nBut Chuck holds none of this against him. He knows it comes from respect.\n

What a sorry outfit! Bunch of old ladies. You better stay behind.\nYour mammas'd probably get upset.\nBut when the time comes, I'm out of here. Hit the road, Toad!\nUrsula passes the sandwiches around until there is just\none left, Miss Carter's. While the others are talking,\nshe scoops up a handful of dirt and pours it into the middle.\nBill, lighting a cigarette, notices Chuck's hand on Abby's.\n

No.\nBill blows out the match and touches Chuck's hand with\nthe hot ember, causing him to yank it away.\n

That's old.\nChuck starts to cough. Bill looks at Abby, then whips the handkerchief out of his pocket and puts it over his nose, as though to keep from getting Chuck's germs.\nMiss Carter's face goes blank as she bites into her sandwich.\nShe jumps up and rushes back into the house. Chuck frowns.\nBill glares at Ursula, then turns to Chuck and, referring to the dead prairie grass which runs through the front yard right up to the house, continues:\n

You ever thought of putting in some fescue here? Some fescue grass?\nOf course, it might not take in this soil.\nChuck stands up and winds a stole, a long religious scarf, around his neck.\n

Keeps the stain of guilt off.\nChuck nods goodbye and walks off, taking a stool with him. Bill sighs with admiration.\n

They do! I breathe a sigh of relief when they step outside the room.\nBill puts on his boater and opens a copy of the Police Gazette. \nThey are silent for a moment. \n

A guy ate a brick on a bet. Must of busted it up first with a hammer. Guy in New York City. Where else?\n

Anybody want to bet me I can't stick this knife in that post?\nNobody takes him up on this. Abby leafs through the\nSears catalogue, her mind dancing with visions of splendor.\n

Pictured. in the catalogue are bath oils and corsets and feathered hats. A grasshopper is perched on the page among them, its eyes blank and dumb.\n

Bill watches her run her finger slowly around the closed heart of a rose. Suddenly they both look at each other. They have heard the squeals, faint but unmistakable, of a hog being led to slaughter.\n

Ursula, off by herself, skips rope.\nA flag on the pole by the front gate snaps in the breeze. From the branch of a lone tree the hog dangles by its hocks into the mouth of a barrel.\n

Miss Carter storms down the hill with her bags. Fed up, she is leaving the bonanza. Chuck tries in vain to appease her. She keeps walking, out the front gate and into the prairie on a straight course for the railroad tracks.\nChuck will now be alone at the Belvedere with the newcomers and no other point of reference.\n

Later that afternoon, Bill catches sight of Abby's underthings rustling on the clothes line.\n

That evening he watches her from behind as she climbs the stairs to join Chuck at their bedroom door. She nods goodnight, sensing the jealousy that is growing in him.\n

I can't find anything around here. Last week it was my gloves; this\nweek my talc. What's going on?\nHe stands and watches Abby get ready for bed. She fills him with a deep adoration. He feels that in the tulip of her mouth at last he has found heaven.\n

You don't think my skin's too fair?\nHe comes up behind her and touches her long hair.\n

Not right now.\nShe is cold to discourage false expectations in him--and because she feels that she at least owes Bill this. Chuck, however, assumes the fault must be his own. His naivete about women, and the world in general, protects\nthe conspirators--and protects him, too, for he glimpses enough of the truth not to want to know any more.\n

You know what I'm talking about, though. You aren't that way\nwith your brother.\n

These gentle endearments, so rarely heard from Bill, stir her deeply. She throws herself in his arms.\n

I think you love me better than before, though.\nShe rubs her cheek against his hands. Daily she feels warmer toward him. How much of this is love, how much respect or devotion, even she cannot say.\n

The night throbs with crickets. Bill cracks open the bedroom door. Chuck lies asleep in a shaft of moonlight next to Abby. He hesitates a moment, but a strange compulsion drives him on. He has never done anything\nso dangerous, or had so little idea why.\n

Abby wakes up to find him staring her in the face. He kisses her. Chuck stirs. Abby signals they should go outside.\n

I can't stand it any more. This is just so cruel. We're both no\ngood. I've got to get drunk with you, Bill. You know what I mean?\nDrunk.\nBill wags a bottle. The dogs, awakened, bay from the kennel. They wait a moment to see if a light will go on in the house, then dart off toward the fields. A plaster lawn dwarf seems to watch them go.\n

They run through the fields, hand in hand, laughing and flirting. The moon makes Abby's nightgown a ghostly white.\n

The shoe gleams in the moonlight. Coyotes yelp from the hilltops. A scarecrow spreads its arms against the sky. The waving fields of wheat have given way to vast reaches of cleanly shaven stubble, stained with purple morning glories. Odd, large stakes are planted among them.\n

You want me to spin you around?\nShe nods okay. He takes her by the hands and spins her around the way he used to--until they go reeling off, too dizzy to stand.\n

They lie by the river looking at the great dome of stars. Bill wants to believe things are the same between them as before. So does Abby--but she knows better.\n

Suppose we woke up tomorrow and it was a thousand years ago. I\nmean, with all we know? Electricity, the telephone, radio, that kind of\nstuff. They'd never figure out how we came up with it all. Maybe\nthey'd kill us.\nShe looks at him, and they laugh.\n

Before the marriage his lovemaking was gentle and soft. Now it has a brutal air, as though he were asserting his right to her for the last time.\n

They have run back to the Belvedere. It seems they are safe until Chuck appears on the porch, yawning and stretching. Bill drops to the ground while Abby goes ahead.\nAbby appears at one side of the house while Bill steals around the other. Luckily, they have come up from the back.\n

Abby! I've been looking all over for you. Where have you been?\nWhile she distracts Chuck, Bill slips back in the house. It has been a close call.\n

Abby looks sympathetically at Chuck. Her face dissolves into a page of her diary and from there to Ursula, balancing an egg on her fingertip.\n

Chuck saw Ursula balance an egg. He begged her to repeat this trick,\nbut she wouldn't.\n

Chuck tries to reduplicate Ursula's feat. Abby, amused, reaches out and touches his face.\nWe wonder if, despite herself, she might be falling in love with him.\n

Bill watches the Doctor walk out the front door and down the steps to his wagon. Chuck follows, smiling.\n

They have come down to the railroad tracks to watch the President pass through.\n

Does she have time to ride back and get it?\nAbby and Bill hold hands. Chuck by now is accustomed to such displays. They seem, however, to make Abby increasingly uncomfortable.\n

The train bursts past at twenty yards, its great light rolling like a lunatic eye. Bill's heart pounds with excitement. Chuck holds Abby by the waist. Ursula waves a handkerchief... They cannot make out anything specific in the windows, but there is the sense of people going more important places, getting on with the serious business of their lives - while out here they stagnate.\nDimly visible, on the back platform of the caboose, a MAN in a frock coat salutes them with his cane.\nThe train has quickly vanished into the declining sun. Everything is quiet again. Ursula rushes up the grade to collect some pennies she laid on the tracks.\n

You didn't understand my question.\nThey walk back to the buggy. Ursula holds up a dead snake she found on the tracks.\n

That was the President, shortie. Wake up.\nBill watches Chuck help Abby into the buggy. She is laughing about something or other. His hand lingers for a moment on hers. She does not brush it aside, as once she might have, but to Bill's dismay, presses\nit against her breast. Chuck seems to have breathed a hope into her that he, Bill, was never able to.\n

Abby and Ursula race across the fields trying to fly a kite. Ursula rides a tiny Shetland pony. Just as the wind lifts the kite away, they run into Bill. He sits by himself observing a spear of grass. Abby drops off. Ursula rides off over the hill with the kite, leaving her alone with Bill.\n

You're the only person getting worked up.\nSome buffalo appear on the crest of the next hill. Abby looks at them. They do not seem quite part of this world but mythical, like minotaurs.\n

How about the other night? I saw you, Abby. The other night\nby the tracks? If only you wouldn't lie! Really, there's\nsome things about you I'm never going to understand.\n

I forgot. Anyway it doesn't matter. What are you doing, always trying\nto trap me?\nBill paces around, disgusted with himself and the whole situation.\n

You and him. Why do I have to spell it out? I thought it would be all\nover in a month or two. Guy might go another five years. We've got to\nclear out, Abby.\nThey stare at each other in silence for a moment.\n

Why stay? Go ahead and tell me! I'm standing here.\nBill trembles with shock and anger. The buffalo cast aware glances at them.\n

And what about him? It would be the worst thing we could do. Worse\nthan anything so far. It would break his heart.\nBill is silent for a moment.\n

What're you talking about? Murdering him? Ursula comes riding over the hill, without the kite.\n

I had to let it go. One of them started following me, and I threw\na rock at him. I had a bunch stored in my pocket.\nThey take off running after her.\n

As they approach the Belvedere, Bill sees Chuck standing on the front steps. Suddenly angry, he draws Abby to him and in plain view kisses her on the lips.\n

Abby bounds up the steps. Chuck has bent his mind to understand all this as mere sibling love, but here is the greatest test so far.\n

Today's my birthday.\nChuck gives her a kiss, glad to put aside his suspicions.\n

Tails level, their noses thrust high in the air, a pair of pointers prance through the high uplands grass, following a scent like sailors taking in a rope. Pheasants and quail tremble in their coveys, their eyes big with fear.\n

Chuck has taken Bill out bird-hunting. They wear heavy canvas leggings and carry shotguns.\n

I think so. Why?\nBill shrugs. Chuck welcomes this opportunity to speak of his wife. He considers Bill a good friend, in fact the only person with whom he can talk about delicate matters.\n

I want to get her something nice for Christmas.\nBill, who means to kill Chuck the first chance he gets, forgets this intention for a moment to give him advice.\n

She likes to draw. Maybe some paints. Nothing too expensive--\nshe might want to exchange it. Maybe a coat. She likes to show\noff sometimes. She's sweet that way.\n

That's how they are. They like to make you work for it. I couldn't\never figure out why.\n

Sometimes you can't go wrong, though. You know that one Abby showed you a picture of? Elizabeth? I took her cherry.\n

Actually, I didn't, but I could have. The point I'm making is you've got\nto understand how they operate. Get them thinking you can take it or\nleave it, you're usually okay.\nSuddenly the dogs stop rigid, on point. At Chuck's hiss they sink into the grass.\nBill looks at Chuck's exposed back. Nobody would know. It could be made to seem like a hunting accident. He cocks the hammer of his shotgun. His heart pounds wildly. Chuck talks in a low voice to the dogs.\n

All right, put them up, girl.\nThe dogs rise and inch toward the birds, as slowly as the minute hand of a clock. All at once the quail explode out of hiding. Bill jumps at the noise. Chuck fires twice. Two birds fall. The retriever notes where. Chuck turns around.\n

You have to keep your gun up.\nChuck walks ahead. The music builds a mood of tension. Bill takes a practice shot into the ground. Bill looks around. There is nobody in sight. He turns the sights on Chuck's back. It would be simple enough.\nThough only twenty feet away, he closes the gap, to make sure he does not miss.\nChuck whistles the scattered birds back to their covey. \"Pheo! Pheo!\" Soon, faint and far away, comes a reply-the sweet, pathetic whistle of the quail lost in a forest of grass. The mother bird utters a low \"all is well.\"\nOne by one, near and far, the note is taken up, and they begin to return.\nBill holds his breath. His finger moves inside the trigger guard. He only has to squeeze a fraction of an inch. Three more birds shoot out of the grass. Chuck fires. At first we think Bill has, but he cannot stoop this low. He does not have the heart. Disgusted, he throws his gun on the ground. Both barrels go off. Chuck snaps around, startled and concerned. Bill is\nshaking like a leaf.\n

They surprised me again. Chuck sends a retriever after the fallen birds, then--in an unprecedented gesture-he puts his arm over Bill's shoulder to comfort him, like an older brother.\n

Just wondering. I got a pair of gloves I brought with me.\nBill feels oddly better, as though Chuck had backed down.\n

Abby bought me this at Yellowstone.\nChuck shows Bill his knife. Bill reads a name off the handle.\n

That's what she calls you? 'Chickie?'\nHe gets up, his nostrils flaring with anger. Chuck thinks this indignance is on his behalf.\n

Don't let her fool you, too. She warms up to whoever says please and thank you.\n

You really want to know?\nHe would like Chuck to know the truth but does not want theresponsibility for revealing it. He must find out by accident.\nLuckily they are interrupted as Ursula runs up, pointing over her shoulder. A pair of three-wing airplanes sputters into view low overhead. One seems to be having engine trouble.\n

The planes set down in a nearby field. \"Toto's Flying Circus\" is emblazoned on the wings.\n

Five PEOPLE clamber out, members of a seedy vaudeville troupe. They swagger around, filthy with oil from the backwash of the props, looking more like convicts than entertainers. Their LEADER is an excitable Levantine.\nLEADER\nHow long it take to fix? Very mooch time! Now look where you\nhab stuck us. Salaupe! You forget who I aim!\nBill, Abby and Ursula approach the aircraft with the greatest caution, like the Indians at Cortez's ships.\n

A JUGGLER and a SNAKE CHARMER perform first separately,\nthen jointly as a slap act. A DOUBLE TALKER weaves sentences of absolute nonsense. After a moment a black and white image appears over his face and he drops out of sight.\nThe troupe is putting on a show to earn its supper. ONE of them stands behind the viewers -- Abby and Bill, Chuck and Ursula -- cranking a carbide projector by hand. A silent movie appears on the screen, full of extraordinary pratfalls, disappearances and other tricks of the early\ncinema. Chuck has never seen anything remotely like this.\n

How'd they do that? Where'd he go? There must be a wire. Etc.\nHe steps forward to inspect the screen, actually just a sheet hung along a clothesline, to see whether the image is coming from behind. Bill and Abby sit rapt as children, nostalgic for Chicago.\n

Ursula serves dinner. She is excited by the visitors'\ncity ways. They are bored with her, all except the\nyoungest, GEORGE, a young pilot in a white scarf.\n

We never hear a thing out here. It's like being on a boat in the\nmiddle of a lake. You see things going on, but way far away, with no voices.\nGEORGE\nMaybe time to clear out.\nGeorge puts his hand on hers. She snatches it away.\nGEORGE\nWhat's the matter? Aren't I your\ntype or something?\nThe Doubletalker pokes his fork into a pudding. A balloon, concealed beneath the surface, explodes to general delight. Down the table Abby and Bill chat with the Leader.\nLEADER\nYou do not understand, sir. I am saddled with asses, yaays? I, who\nonce played the Albert Hall\n

You. hear that? He called me 'sir.'\nIn their gaiety he carelessly puts a hand on Abby's leg.\n

Chuck looks on from the shadows, no longer just puzzled but angry. He has watched them behave this way a dozen times before, but tonight, with other people around, he must see it more directly.\n

George tells Ursula a joke. She dissolves in giggles before he can finish, as though amazed at his power to dispense illusion.\n

Chuck, alone in the darkened living room, calms himself down by breathing through a rubber mask into a respirator. Joyful noises reach him from outside.\n

The next morning Chuck looks down out his bedroom window.\nThe troupe is packing to leave. Still troubled, he walks to the bed and and stands over Abby.\n

What's going on, Abby?\nShe does not respond. He yanks the sheet off. She is wearing a nightgown. She looks up and frowns. This is the first time she has ever seen him this way.\n

Something's not right, and I want to know what.\nAbby jumps out of bed and assumes the offensive. She has no other choice.\n

It just doesn't look right. I don't know how brothers and\nsisters carry on where you come from, but...\n

Did you ever have a brother. Then who are you to judge? Maybe if\nyou had, you'd understand. Anyway, times have changed while you've been stuck out in this weed patch. We're\n************************line missing****************\nShe puts on a robe and walks out. Her last argument has worked best. Chuck never imagined he was in step with the times.\n

Abby slips out the front door. She looks around to make sure that Chuck is not watching her, then heads off to find Bill. The vaudevillians gorge themselves on last night's leftovers, steal flowers from the flower beds,\netc. ONE sits off by himself, playing a French horn.\n

She finds Bill by the dorm throwing a switchblade in the ground, a toothbrush in his mouth.\n

Look what I traded off those clowns. For a bushel of corn!\nShe draws him by the arm behind a wall. She is trembling with fear.\n

Really. This is the first time he's ever been like this. I'm scared.\nAll this flatters Chuck in a way Bill does not like.\n

He could kill us. I want to live a long time, okay? I just got\nstarted and I like it.\nBill shrugs, as though to say he can handle whatever Chuck can dish out and a little more.\n

Did I? Well, it never would've come up if you hadn't led him on.\nLed Chickie on!\n

Is that the best you can do? Knowing you it probably is.\nYou've made a mess of our lives, okay. Don't pretend it was my\nfault.\nBill combs his hair to calm himself down.\n

Why's this guy still hanging on like a goddamn snapping turtle?\nBecause of you. Boy, this was a great idea. Right up there\nwith Lincoln going down to the theater, see what's on!\n

Don't give me that. When a guy's getting screwed, he's got a right\nto holler.\n

Then why'd you ask? Oh, how did I ever get mixed up with you?\nAbby, in terror of Chuck's finding out, cannot understand why Bill seems to care so little.\n

You've gone sweet on him. You have, haven't you?\nAbby hesitates. Bill throws his knife away.\n

Broad shoulders. I know. Very high morals. Why can't he talk\nfaster? It's like waiting for a hen to lay an egg.\n

You wouldn't understand, though. He's not like you. You don't\nknow how people feel. You only think of yourself.\n

What's going on between us, Abby? Think about that. If you figure it\nout, tell me, will you? I'd appreciate it.\n

Lord, but you do come on! You talking like this, used to play\naround right under his nose. Somebody I met in a bar, remember?\nOr maybe you walked in, thought it was a church. Well, I've had\nit.I'm clearing out. You understand?\nThey look at each other for a moment.\n

Go ahead.\nThis is not what he expected to hear. But now his pride requires that he face the truth and not back down.\n

Okay.\nHe looks at her for a moment. He cannot be dealt with this way. He turns and walks off.\n

Ursula flirts with George. He slips a hand inside her blouse. She bats it away.\n

Bill stands on the ground below the master bedroom. Chuck leans out the window above him. Peacocks roost on the balcony, beneath the telescope. The vaudevillians are loading up their planes. Abby watches from the porch.\n

I got my own. Just wasn't any clean today.\nBill takes off the shirt, drapes it over a post and walks off, hurt and angry, but with a sad dignity.\nChuck is not entirely sorry to see him go, nor is Abby; she knows that he is getting out just in time. One more episode like last night's and the fuse would hit the powder.\n

The vaudevillians are ready to take off. Bill boards the plane which George is piloting, wondering if today's break with Abby is real or just in anger, a necessary gesture. With him he carries his only possessions, a bindle and his trick rabbit. Abby, Chuck and Ursula look on.\n

The planes set their wheels in the furrows, rev their engines and wobble off into the sky. Ursula waves goodbye to George.\n

Winter has come. Snow falls across the breadth of the plains, on the river and the dark sleeping fields.\n

Chuck and Abby skim over the snow in a gaily painted sleigh (or ice boat). She is wrapped up snug in a buffalo robe, her feet on a hot brick. Pigs forage along the fences.\n

They inspect a cave with a kerosene lantern. Blocks of ice, covered with burlap and sawdust, cool shelves of preserves.\nAbby drops a stone into a dark pit. Two seconds pass before it hits the bottom.\n

Probably that's the first noise down there for thousands of years.\nShe speaks as though she had done it a favor. He puts his hand on hers. She presses it against her chest.\n

You ever wish you could turn your heart off for a second and\nsee what happened?\n

Views of backlit gems, stalactites, salamanders in their cold dark pools, hidden springs and other mysteries of nature.\n

Maybe nothing would.\nThey round a corner and come upon an underground waterfall. It flows out of darkness back into darkness.\n

Bill, meanwhile, stands in a line of panting, sweating IMMIGRANTS.\nOn their shoulders they carry the huge barrel of a cannon. With a grunt they drive it into the fiery mouth of a forge.\n

Bill stands on the corner of a big city street, stamping his feet against the cold. He tries to catch a pigeon with some bread crumbs under a box propped up by a stick, but just as he pulls the string to drop the trap it darts\nout of the way.\n

Bill has an improvised conversation with a YOUNG GIRL who has run away from home. He asks her where she comes from, whom she belongs to, etc. She tells him of her hopes, then passes on. Bill gives her all the money in his pocket.\n

Enthralled, Abby surveys the wonders of Babylon and\nNineveh in a book about the Near East.\nUrsula sits with a world globe, taking a geography lesson from a traveling TUTOR. No doubt this was Abby's idea.\nAbby copies from a small plaster model of a Roman bust. She wants painfully to improve herself.\n

Abby and Chuck skate around a bonfire on a frozen prairie lake, carrying torches to guide them through the dark.\n

Bill sits in a cold flophouse trying to write a letter. After a moment he wads it up and throws it away.\n

Abby, Ursula and Chuck are on a walk outside the Belvedere. The snow is gone. Abby's hands are stuffed in a chinchilla muff.\nAll at once they hear a distant noise like the whoops of an Indian war party. It seems mysteriously to come from every hilltop. Abby turns to Chuck with a puzzled look.\n

You hardly ever see them.\nThey stand and listen to the birds. There is a sense of the earth stirring back to life. Abby breathes in with a wild joy and hugs Chuck tightly by the waist.\n

I can't seem to get my mind on anything. I thought, when I came\noff that place, boy, they'd better get all the women out of town that day, you know? Somewhere safe. But you know what I do? I sleep, nothing but\nsleep.\nA PANHANDLER approaches them with a hard-luck story.\n

Okay, here's a quarter, but give me some entertainment, okay?\nNot this old song and dance.\nWhile the Panhandler performs, Bill looks around.\nTwo POLICEMEN have appeared in the entryway talking with the LANDLADY. Bill edges out the back door and down the steps, as though they might be after him.\nHe walks briskly down the alley without looking back.\n

Chuck holds a handful of seed under his nose. His heart stirs at the dark, mellow smell.\nInto this dissolves an image of Abby writing in her diary.\n

Chuck swings a barometer round and round, checking the weather. Two Case tractors pitch across a field like boats on a rolling sea. Long plumes of smoke wind off behind them. Each tows a fourteen-gang plow. A third\ntractor follows, putting in the seed.\nUrsula chases a flock of blackbirds off with a big rattle.\nEvery acre of ground for as far as the eye can see is under cultivation.\n

They put in the wheat the other day. This will be the biggest\nyear ever. There was a scare\nwhen a locust turned up. Luckily it wasn't the bad kind.\n

The plows have turned up a hibernating locust. Chuck stands by the tractor, inspecting it under a magnifying glass. The creature nestles like a fossil in the black earth.\n

They sleep in the ground for seventeen years, then crawl up\naround the end of May and spend a week flying around before they die.\nChuck kicks up the dirt around the plow, looking for others. Benson, back from exile, looks concerned.\n

Various wonders of the prairie: a charred tree, a huge mastodon bone, a flowering bush, a pelican, the rusted hulk of an ancient machine, etc.\n

How strange this new world is! You walk out in the morning\nsometimes to find a lake rippling where the day before solid land\nwas.\n

Chuck has laid out the outline of a 50-foot boat in whitewashed stones. He walks around the imaginary deck showing Abby where the cabins will be.\n

Ursula goes out to the fields with an organist named JOEY\nwhom Chuck has hired to play for the crops. He and Ursula\nseem to hit it off.\n

Last month he brought in a kid to play the organ. He claims it\nhelps the crops grow. Personally I doubt it.\n

They have brought an organ out into the middle of the fields. Ursula pumps up the bellows. Joey sits in front of the keyboard and shoots his cuffs.\nHis fingers strike the keys.\n

Clouds build in huge toadstools. Thunder rolls across the\nplains. A rain begins to fall. The music seems to work a magic on the crops, to draw them forth. The seeds germinate in the darkness of the\nsoil. Water finds its way down. Roots, tiny hairs at\nfirst, spread and grow.\n

Rude dolls fixed at the ends of pointed sticks--agricultural fetishes that Chuck's father brought with him from the Old World--stand around the field to join in aiding the crops.\n

Flags and bunting adorn the porch for Independence Day. Ursula sets off some fireworks.\n

The bald earth has, as though by a mystery, become a sheet of grain, its green already fading to gold. The music dies away, replaced by the whirr of summer crickets.\n

It will be a year that we have been here.\nThe camera holds and holds on the fields until in their vacant depths, we begin to sense the presence of a deep malevolence, still biding its time but growing every minute.\nSeagulls--like strange emissaries from another world--glide back and forth over the fields in search of grasshoppers.\n

Ursula takes curling irons from the chimney of a lantern where she has set them to heat, and applies them to Abby hair.\n

Don't be silly. Everybody does. What do you think all those songs\nare about? You need to be careful, though, and not throw it away.\n

You know, your chances. It's too hard to explain to a little\nsquirrel like you.\n

Sometimes.\nFrom her tone, however, we sense that she finds it easier with him gone.\n

You're lying, aren't you? Well, go right on lying.\nThe camera moves to the window, beneath the eave. Outside, peacocks strut back and forth.\n

Bill rides an Indian motorcycle along a muddy road back to the bonanza. His rabbit is strapped to the back. He stops for a moment to look at the new fields.\n

Abby sings to herself as she beats out a carpet. Bill appears on the ridge behind her. Hope leaves him like a ghost. She looks happily settled into a new life with Chuck. All at once she turns around.\n

Bill!\nShe rushes up and embraces him, but her warmth just seems a tease to Bill. She is different. She looks different. The tutors and tailors Chuck has brought in over the winter have given her more polish. Her hair is nicely\ncoiffed. Where she used to dress in cotton shirtwaists, she wears crinolines now.\n

I came back to help out with the harvest.\nHe feels humiliated at not having a stronger excuse. But he loves her. He aches with love. He hoped their last fight was just another storm in the romance. Evidently it was more.\n

I thought about you a lot. Wrote you a letter, but it was no good, so I tore it up.\n

I'm glad you like it.\nHe admires her garden. His familiar cockiness vanishes as little by little he sees the old feeling is not there.\n

The daffodils were already here, but I put in the rest. You\nreally do like them?\nAt a shriek from Ursula, Bill turns around. She runs into his arms, and covers him with kisses.\n

I've missed you! I thought about you every day. You should've written. Did Abby show you what she got?\nAbby scowls at Ursula. With no choice but to show him, she opens the top button of her blouse and draws out a diamond necklace.\n

You oughta be glad you didn't have to spend the winter. You\nwould've gone crazy.\n

The winter's peace is gone. Abby is sick with fear. Now that she loves Chuck, too, she can never again be honest with Bill. The truth of her feelings would crush him. Moreover, there's no telling how he might react. He could ruin everything, even get them killed.\n

They dine in awkward silence. Benson has joined them.\nAbby, for all her winter's polish, still eats with the back of her knife.\n

Okay.\nThey are silent for a moment. Bill senses that nobody except Ursula is really glad to see him back.\n

Still hasn't wised up. Know what I mean? He asked how you were\ndoing, though.\n

Oh yeah?\nBill can see that her interest is only polite. He knows that he should turn around and leave, but he cannot. The sight of him with his confidence gone is painful to behold.\n

His nose was like this.\nHe pushes his nose to one side. Ursula and Abby laugh.\n

Bill plants willow slips in the soft earth by the stock pond. Ursula orders a dog around.\n

No.\nUrsula flirts with him, running the shoots along his back.\nShe waits to see what he will do. He gets up and after a short chase catches her. He holds her at arm's length for a moment, then kisses her.\n

What'd you do that for?\nBill wonders himself. To get revenge on Abby? He touches her breast.\n

Nothing.\nShe giggles and kisses him back. But guilt has caught up with him. He cannot go ahead.\n

Chuck and Abby sit in their cozy living room playing Parcheesi. The sound of their voices is muffled. The camera draws back to reveal Bill outside the window, watching.\nShe is comfortable with Chuck now. Apparently, he has lost his place in her heart. He wants to rush in and drag her away.\n

Later that night he stands under the bedroom window and wonders at the meaning of the shadows that flicker across the ceiling. After a moment he withdraws into the darkness.\n

Bill has brought Abby into a nearby town to make some purchases. Dressed in a chauffeur's gown and goggles, he sits against the fender of the Overland watching her move from store to store. Ursula is with her.\nThe TOWNSPEOPLE all speak German. Their peasant costumes are freely mixed with Western dress. The signs are old German script. Two MEN carry a huge bulb through the street, to put atop a church.\n

Listen, I'm going to stay and go back with the laundry wagon.\nAbby looks at Bill, then nods okay. Ursula runs off. Bill opens the door, and she gets in.\n

They are stopped on the road a hundred yards outside the town.\nAbby smokes as Bill checks the radiator. Something in his behavior leads us to suspect he may have staged this stop.\n

I forgot about it already.\nBill, trying his best to make peace with her, cannot help seeing that she would like to keep things as they are--and not because she harbors any grudge.\n

What's happened?\nShe shrugs, disengaging her hand to brush aside her hair. She is painfully aware of his suffering but doesn't have the heart to tell him how it all is.\n

Already? You just got here.\nShe hasn't really contradicted him. He leans forward as though to kiss her. She lets him. She wishes that she could give herself to him, but she doesn't know what is right. Then, a sudden impulse of panic, she gets up and backs away.\n

Where you going?\nHe reaches out to catch her. She breaks away and starts to run. He walks quickly after her, cutting off any escape toward the town.\n

I'm not going to hurt you. I only want to talk with you.\nShe stops and hides her face in her hands. He gently pulls them away.\n

I didn't come back to make trouble for you. I guess we were fooling\neach other to think it could last. I mean, What was I offering youanyhow? A ride to the bottom. Looking at you now, in the right clothes and everything, I see how crazy I was and--well, I understand. It's okay. I sort of cut my own throat, actually.\nHer eyes close and her legs give in. Bill lets her go and backs off a step in surprise. She sinks to the ground, as though in a trance.\n

Bill, taken by surprise, goes up and kneels down beside her. He looks to see that she is okay. He picks a fox-tail out of her hair. Her dress has worked up toward her knees. He pulls it back down. He wants to caress \nher face but hesitates.\n

How'd we let it happen, Abby? We were so happy once. Why didn't we starve? I love you so much. What have1 done? You're so beautiful. What have I done?\nHe touches his lips for a fraction of a second to hers, notices another car approaching down the road. He picks her up like a doll and carries her back to the Overland.\n

I'm sorry.\nShe touches his face in a surge of sympathy. What has she done to him? He kisses her neck and leads her toward the front door.\n

The camera rises to the uppermost story of the Belvedere. Chuck has seen them. Hot tears leap to his eyes. Before Bill left for the winter he often observed such intimacies between them. Now it all looks different.\n

He looks around at his estate--his barn, his auto, his great house and his granary. None of them is any consolation now. Far a moment it seems to him as though he lived here in some time long past.\n

What's the matter?\nHe seems for a moment to consider telling her, then shrugs and goes downstairs.\n

He stumbles into a bird cage but hardly notices. The jostled birds raise a fuss.\n

I've been looking for you. I have to take off again, real soon here, and...\nChuck puts a hand on Bill's shoulder, stopping him. They look at each other for a moment, then he passes on. Bill seems puzzled.\n

Chuck walks out into the deep of his fields. The wheat, a warm dry gold, is almost ready to take in. He sits down and rests his head against a \nfurrow, powerless to think. The wind makes a song in the infinitude of sweet clicking heads.\nHe puts his hands over his heart and breathes in gasps, with the dumb honesty of a wounded animal. He could not himself quite say what it is that he knows.\n

Late that afternoon disaster strikes as a swarm of locusts sweeps down on the bonanza. We do not see where they come from. They seem to appear out of nowhere, unnoticed. Ursula works in the kitchen, Bill by the barn. Chuck lies asleep in the field, Abby upstairs in bed.\n

The animals sense it first. The buffalo move off in a mass. The horses become uncontrollable. One runs around the barn in a panic. Bill watches it, puzzled.\nTwo peacocks have a fight.\nA dog in the treadmill races in vain to escape, driving the machine to a feverish pitch. The shadow of a giant cloud licks over the hills.\n

Everything seems normal in the fields.\nThen, as you listen, a strange new sound begins to rise from them, a wild sea-like singing. As the camera moves over the fields and down into the wheat it swells in a crescendo until...\n

Suddenly we see them up close, devouring the stalks in a fever, the noise of their jaws magnified a thousand times.\nThey slip into the Belvedere, under the sash and wainscoting, turning up first in places it would seem they could never get into: a jewelry case, the back of a radio, the works of a music box, a bottle with a miniature ship inside, etc.\n

Their eyes are dumb and implacable. They seem to have a whole hidden life of their own.\n

Little by little they gather in numbers. Ursula first sees one on the drainboard. She swats it with a newspaper. Others sprout up. One by one she picks them up with a tongs and drops them into the stove. This method\nis too slow. She begins to use her fingers. She moves with a quick, nervous energy, even as she understands this is futile. At last claustro-phobia seizes her. She spins around with a shriek, lashing out at everything in sight.\n

In the bedroom overhead, Abby wakes up from one nightmare into another. She jumps out of bed and goes to the window. The locusts pelt against the pane like shot. She throws the bolt. Suddenly a crack shoots through the glass. She jumps back and watches in horror as a sliver of the pane falls in. They are free to enter.\n

Suddenly they are everywhere: on the clothesline, in the pantry, in hats and shoes and the seams of clothing. Not a nook or cranny is safe from penetration.\n

Chuck, asleep in the deep of the wheat, bolts up in slow motion. His hair is seething with them.\n

Panic hits the bonanza. Workers tie string around their pant cuffs to keep the insects from crawling up their legs, then rush out to the fields with gongs, rattles, pot lids, scarecrows on sticks, drums and horns and \nother noisemakers to scare them off.\nSome pray. Others run around like madmen, stamping and yelling, ignored by the gathering host. A couple get into a fistfight.\nA storm flag is run up the flagpole. A tractor blasts out an S.O.S. The peacocks huddle under the stoop.\n

Offer fifty cents a bushel for them. Get out the reapers.\nSee what you can harvest.\n

The locusts snap through the air. Bill, swatting at them with a shovel, stops to gag. One has flown into his mouth.\n

Abby throws a sheet over herself, but they get in under it. She thrashes around madly, then with a cry goes limp.\n

Benson reports back to Chuck. A team of horses races by, nearly bowling them over.\n

We can't get the machines out. They're jamming up the gears.\nThere's a good chance they'll pass on south, though. Unless...\nunless a wind comes up.\n

The locusts devour not just the crops but every organic thing: pitchfork handles, linens on the clothesline, leather traces, flowers in the window boxes, etc. Soon a large area of wheat is eaten down to stubble.\nBill looks away from a tree for a second. When he turns back it has been stripped to a wintry bareness.\n

The vanes of the wind generator begin gently to stir. Little by little the wind picks up. A dust devil spins across the yard. The grass lists by the well. A power line moans.\n

As the sun dips below the horizon, the locusts pour in like a living river, walking along the ground like a procession of Army ants. The roar of their wings is deafening. The air hisses and pops with their electric frenzy.\n

And these are but the advance elements of a main force which looms like a silver cloud on the horizon.\n

WORKERS dump bushels of the insects into a bonfire. A MAN with an abacus keeps track of what each is owed.\n

The wind has picked up. Chuck, Bill and Abby have come out to the fields with a dozen WORKERS to investigate the extent of the damage. The insects buzz around blindly in the light of their lanterns, which they carry Japanese-fashion at the ends of cane poles.\n

There's nothing we can do but wait. They're either going to take it all or they're not.\nHe covers his face with his hands. The others shy back at this display of grief, startling in one so formal. Their jostled lanterns cast a dance of lights.\nBill, moved to real sympathy, takes him by the shoulders.\n

Come on. They might still lift. Hey, I've seen a wind like this lay\ndown and die. Don't give up now.\n

We could at least make sure they don't get the people on south.\nHe breaks open the mantle of his lantern, still unsure what he should do. Some of the flaming kerosene splashes onto the crops nearby, setting them ablaze. Bill drops his rattle and swats the fire out with his coat.\n

What're you doing? Watch it! What're you, crazy? There's\nstill a chance, don't you see?\nChuck goes to his horse. Bill grabs him by the sleeve. Does he really mean to set the fields on fire? Chuck pushes him aside. Bill, frantic, turns to the others for support.\n

Stop him, or it's all going up.\nThey, however, are too uncertain of their ground to intervene. Chuck turns on Bill.\n

What does it matter to you?\nChuck slings fire out of the broken lantern onto the crops next to Bill -- a sudden, hostile gesture that catches them all by surprise. Independent of his will, the truth is forcing its way up, like a great blind fish from the bottom of the sea.\nHe slings the fire out again. A patch lands on Bill's pantleg. Bill slaps it out.\n

What's got into you?\nThey stare at each other. Bill backs off like a cat, sensing Chuck knows the truth, but at a loss to understand how he could.\n

Why do you care? I gave my life for this land.\nChuck walks towards him. Suddenly Bill turns and takes off running. Chuck swings at him with the lantern. Bill escapes behind the building wall of flame that springs up between them.\nThe whirr of the locusts stops for a moment--they seem at times to have a collective mind--then, just as mysteriously, resumes.\n

Stop, Chuck!\nChuck leaps on his horse. She tries to drag him off but is thrown aside and almost trampled underfoot. Now the others join in, trying to knock away the lantern or catch his stirrup. He eludes them and rides off after Bill, leaving a slash of flame behind him in the grain. They tear off their coats to swat it out, in vain--already it stretches a hundred yards.\n

Bill runs through the night, still carrying his lantern. Chuck bears down on him. Abby chases along behind him, screaming for him to stop.\nBill realizes the lantern is giving his position away He blows it out and vanishes from sight. All we can see is the thundering horseman, sowing fire.\n

With a rough idea where Bill is, Chuck begins to lay a ring of fire around him, fifty yards in diameter.\n

Abby spots Bill against the flames. She rushes up, gasping. They have been caught inside the ring.\n

What're you doing? This is a bad place to talk\nHe throws his coat over Abby's head, picks her up by the waist and crashes through the flame. They have to shout to make themselves understood. The locusts roar like a cyclone.\n

A whole year's work. All wasted! These bugs, once they make up\ntheir minds...\nBill stalls. The fire races toward them through the wheat. They appear as silhouettes against it.\n

Hell of a life. Damned if you do and damned if you don't.\nHe leaves. Abby wonders if she ought to run after him.\n

Bill!\nBut this moment's hesitation has been too long. Already he is swallowed up in the night, her voice swept away in the roar of the flame and the locusts, who seem to wail louder now, and with a great mournfulness--like keening Arab women--as if they knew the fate shortly to envelop\nthem.\nAbby turns back. She, too, has reason to fear Chuck and must escape.\n

Get the tractor out! The pump wagon! Blankets!\nThey rush off to find equipment to fight the fire.\n

Chuck rides through the dark like a lone Horseman of the Apocalypse, setting his fields on fire.\n

Tractors attempt to plow a firebreak. Mad silhouettes run back and forth, slapping at the blaze with wet gunny sacks fixed to the ends of sticks. Two dormitories burn out of control.\nUrsula throws open the barn and lets the horses out. They have raised thunder kicking at their stalls. The light above the barn door pulses erratically.\n

Oil wells explode along the horizon. Huge balls of flames roll into the heavens.\n

Panic spreads among the workers as the holocaust threatens to engulf them. They throw down their tools and run for their lives.\n

Animals flee in all directions: birds and deer and rabbits, pigs, buffalo and the horses from the barn. The locusts mill around crazily on the wheat stalks, backlit against the flame.\n

Bill, fleeing on his motorbike with his rabbit, holds up\nfor a moment to watch the fire--a Biblical inferno of spectacular sweep.\n

Heaving with sobs, Abby throws her things into a bindle. She has lost Chuck forever. Their life is destroyed. She glances out the window. She still has time to get away, but she must hurry. She bolts for the door. Sud-\ndenly Chuck steps from the shadows, blocking her exit.\nHis face, black with soot, looks gruesome in the gas1ight. The locusts have chewed up his clothes.\nAbby is like a frightened deer. Did he see her packing?\n

Off with him?\nThe wind cuts gaps in the death wail of the locusts. From time to time we hear the thump of an exploding well.\n

He's not your brother, is he?\nHow much does he know? She edges toward the door.\n

I told you.\nHe shakes her. She quivers like a child in his grasp. She no longer has the audacity to lie.\n

How long have you known?\nHe drops his eyes. Shamefully long -- and his anger is partly just at this.\n

Tell me. He shoves over the chest of drawers. She does not move.\nHe tears down the drapes, already in shreds.\n

But I am.\nOutside the window fires rage along half the horizon. He sits down. He wants to sob, but cannot.\n

I'm just no good. You picked me from the gutter, and this is\nhow -- I never deserved you.\n

What're you doing?\nChuck drapes his neck with the stole he used in slaughtering the hog. Her face goes empty. He gets his razor strop from the shaving basin. She shrinks back in the corner. He looks at her for a moment, then leaves the room. \n

Where are you doing? Chuck! What are you doing? I won't \nlet you! Come back!\nAgain he throws her aside, and again she keeps after him, desperate to prevent any harm coming to Bill. Finally he picks her up and drags her outside.\n

He lashes her with a rope to a column of the porch. She struggles vainly to free herself. Does he intend to use the razor on her?\n

No, Chuck! Please, darling! It wasn't his fault. It was mine.\nLet him go. I love you, Chuck. Do anything, only please... \n

Dawn breaks. Chuck rides over the burnt-out fields looking for Bill. The feet of his lank white mare are wrapped to the fetlock in wet burlap, to protect them from the smouldering grass. It prances warily along, without\nmaking a sound, wreathed in a mist of blue smoke. With him he carries a stool. The camera pans up to the smoke which is carrying his fortune off.\n

Burnt, blind deer stand and look at him in utter terror, as though they understood his intentions. The roasted corpses of sharptail grouse, coyotes and badgers lie scattered here and there. Piles of dung burn on after the grass is out.\nA peacock from the Belvedere wanders around, angry and\nperplexed.\n

Bill is repairing his motorbike by a rock in the middle of the scorched landscape. The tires are soft as licorice from the heat. Suddenly, he looks up. Chuck has found him.\nHe jumps behind the handlebars and fishtails off. Chuck breaks into a gallop, rides him down, knocks him to the ground with the stool, dismounts and stamps in the spokes of the front wheel to make sure he goes no further.\n

Why do I have to tell you? I can come and go when I like.\nThis is still a free country, last I heard.\nBill stops when he sees the stool. Chuck calmly strops the razor on his stirrup flap. There are no secrets now.\n

What can I say? Too late for apologies. You've got a right\nto hate me.\nChuck puts the razor away and advances on Bill with the stool.\n

I want to leave. You won't ever see me again. I already got what\nI deserve.\nThere is nothing Bill can say to appease him. This will be a fight to the death. Chuck lashes out with the stool. Bill ducks too late.\n

Watch it!\nChuck comes at him again. Bill throws a punch, but Chuck blocks it and knocks him down again with the stool.\nBill reels back and cracks his head on the bicycle frame. This time he stays down. Satisfied the struggle is over, Chuck goes back to get some rope.\n

Chuck shuts his eyes to mumble a prayer of absolution--in Russian.\nBill in a panic, snaps a spoke out of the broken wheel and lays it against his sleeve.\nChuck moves in for the kill. Bill gets to his feet. He wants to run but fear makes his knees like water. Suddenly, they are face to face. Chuck swings at Bill with the stool but misses. Bill lifts the spoke above him and\ndrives it deep into Chuck's heart.\nChuck gasps. Bill seems just as shocked. Chuck sits down to determine the gravity of his injury. Blood jets rhythmically out the end of the spoke, as though from a straw. Bill circles him, unbelieving.\n

Should I pull it out?\nChuck puts his finger over the end of the spoke. Blood seeps out the side of his mouth, like sap from a broken stem.\n

I better get somebody.\nHe tries to catch the reins of Chuck's horse, but it shies out of reach, its conscience repelled. He looks back at Chuck in anguish. What has he done?\n

The Belvedere is visible on the horizon. Bill hesitates\na moment, then heads back on foot to find Abby. He gives\nChuck a wide berth.\nThen, on a ridge in the distance, he spots Benson.\n

Get a doctor! Fast!\nHow much did he see? Bill does not stay to find out but\ntakes off running, though not without first collecting his\nrabbit.\nBenson, meanwhile, bounds down the hill to Chuck's side.\nHis left sleeve has been burned away. The flesh beneath\nis the color of a raw steak.\n

He breathes in gulps. His eyes are blank, like a child's\nmarbles. He takes Benson's hand.\n

Wasn't his fault. Tell her...forgive them.\nThe locusts can be heard no more. The prairie makes a\nsound like the ocean. Chuck turns his back and dies.\n

Benson weeps. Whether or not he understood Chuck's last\nwishes, he seems unlikely to abide by them.\n

Bill finds Abby bound to the house like the figurehead\nof a ship. He cuts her loose. The ropes fall at her feet. She is free. \nThey look at each other for a moment.\nThen, in a rush of compassion for them all, she throws\nher arms around him.\nBill wonders if she is taking him back. Might their\ndifferences all have been a terrible misunderstanding?\n

We have to hurry. Chuck's out looking right now. Oh, Bill,\nwhat have we done? He took his razor. We need to hurry. He\nmight be coming back any minute.\nBill mentions nothing of his encounter. She grabs her\nbindle, Bill a handful of silverware and an umbrella.\nAfter a moment's hesitation, he puts them back.\n

They run down to the barn, where the cars are stored.\nThe saplings in the front yard have been stripped even\nof their bark. Abby stops to look back at the Belvedere\none last time. Chuck does not want her anymore. How\ncould she expect him to?\nBill grabs her by the hand and tugs her along.\n

Abby throws open the doors of the barn. Bill cranks up\nthe engine of the Overland.\n

Probably.\nAbby stands in the door. She is reluctant to leave, though she \nknows they must.\n

Had an accident.\nShe looks at him for a moment, not quite trusting this\nexplanation. The engine catches with a noise like start-\nled poultry. Bill gets behind the wheel. Just as they\nare pulling out of the garage, Ursula runs up, black \nas coal from battling the fire all night.\n

We got in a jam. You'll be safer here. Say we're headed for town.\nTake care of the rabbit, too. He's yours now. \n

Just do what I say. Why're you always arguing about everything?\nWait here till we get in touch.\nBill gives Ursula his wallet and a kiss. Abby gives her a hug.\n

As they crest a ridge, Benson appears in front of them,\nwaving a hand to flag them down. Bill puts his foot on\nthe gas. Benson sees they are not going to stop and fires\nat then with a pistol. Bill grabs a shotgun from a scab-\nbard under the dash and fires back. Nobody is hurt.\n

What's the matter with him?\nBill shrugs. Inside he feels a great relief. They are\nfree at last. At last he has her back.\n

They veer off across the prairie, towards the Razumihin\ngates. The music comes up full.\n

They have come to a lone shack on the river, a drinking\nhouse for passing boatmen. They negotiate (in pantomime)\nwith the PROPRIETOR for a tiny steam boat moored at the\nend of the pier. When the car is not enough, Abby throws\nin her necklace.\n

The necklace sparkles on the hood of the car--a hint\nthey are leaving behind evidence that could betray them.\n

They glide along in the hush of evening. The reeds are\nfull of deer. Cranes, imprudently tame, dance on the\nsand bars.\nBill looks around in wonder. He knows these may be his\nlast days on earth. Abby throws a sounding line.\nA COUPLE from a local farm seeks privacy in the willows.\nOther BOATMEN glide past in silence. A CHILD plays a\nfiddle on the deck of a scow. HUNTERS creep along the\nshore in search of waterfowl.\n

Bill sleeps under a tarp. Abby looks out across the water\nand bursts into sobs. She has wronged Chuck and thrown\nher life away.\n

They shine a lamp into the murky depths and spear pickerel\nwith a hammered-out fork.\nStrange rocks loom up and give way to wide moonlit fields.\nThey have the sense of entering places where nobody has\nbeen since the making of the world.\n

Four LAWMEN, in pursuit, interrogate some FARMERS. Have\nthey seen the two people standing by Chuck in his wedding\nportrait? Benson holds the bulky frame. There is a funereal \nborder of black crepe at the corners.\n

They drift idly on the flood. The phonograph is playing\nin the stern. Abby is back in trousers. Bill points to\na white house on the shore, an image of comfort and peace.\n

I used to want a set-up like that. Something like that, I thought,\nand you'd really have it made. Now I don't care. I just wish\nwe could always live this way.\nHe sees that her mind is somewhere else. He wants to tell\nher the truth about Chuck, for intimacy's sake, but it\nwould just put more of a cloud over everything. It might\neven cause her to hate him.\n

Too late for that. I could never face him again.\nThey look at each other for a moment. He touches her face,\nto show that he does not hold it against her. She touches\nhim back. They only have each other now. They must save\nwhat moments they can.\n

On a sudden whim, Abby takes off her wedding bracelet\nand holds it over the water.\n

Watch this.\nBill is caught off guard. Before he can make a move she\nthrows it far out into the river. They laugh, without\nknowing why, at this extravagance.\n

They gather May apples and black haws. The music from\nthe phonograph comes up full.\nThey dig clams from a sand bar in a playful way. We are\nreminded of their first days on the harvest.\n

They make love in the undergrowth.\nAbby, afterwards, lies in a naked daze. The damp greens\nof the wilderness envelop her.\n

Rounding a bend in the river that night, they come upon\nthe lights of a great city. They have doused the running\nlamp. Except for a faint groaning of the trees along the\nshore, the river is silent, conveying the sounds of the\ncity to them from across a great distance -- bells, joy-\nful voices, horns, the chirping of brakes, etc.\n

They sneak down an alley.\nThere are signs of life behind a few windows, but the\ncity pursues its gaiety elsewhere.\nSuddenly, they come upon a POLICEMAN making his rounds.\nThey let him pass, then cut through a vacant lot back\nto the boat.\n

The next morning finds them camped in a thicket on the river\nfront below a factory.\nBill wakes up, mysteriously happy. Their blankets are heavy\nwith dew. Overhead, finches tilt from branch to branch. A\nlight wind rushes through the leaves. Whatever his trou-\nbles, they seem very small to him in the great. scheme of\nthings.\nHe looks at Abby, mouthing silent words in her sleep.\nHe puts on a white scarf and starts down to the boat. The\nslope is strewn with sodden cartons, burnt bricks and burst\nmattresses, an avalanche of urban excreta.\n

Abruptly he stops. Two POLICE OFFICERS are combing over the\nboat. They have not seen him. He edges back. Suddenly, there is yelling on the hill above them. Bill looks up. Benson is calling him to the attention of a car-load of POLICEMEN pulling up beside him. The Officers at the boat now spot him, too, and open fire. Bill darts like\na rabbit into the thicket.\n

Abby bolts awake. Bill jumps down beside her, breathless,\nand begins looking frantically for the shells to his shotgun.\n

Who? What're you talking about? Stop a minute.\nHe covers her with his body as bullets zoom through the\nundergrowth. His face is close to hers. She bursts into\ntears.\n

Don't get shot. Look for me under that next bridge down. \nAfter dark.\nHe empties out the contents of his pockets -- a watch, a\ncouple of dollars in change, a ring -- and slaps them down\nin front of her.\nThe Police fan out along the ridge above them. He jams a\nflare pistol into his belt and kisses her goodbye--after\na moment's hesitation -- on the cheek. She tries in vain\nto hold him back.\n

Bill runs from the thicket down to the water. The Police\nhave bunched on the other side. It seems he might be able\nto escape. Keeping low, he splashes across a mud flat.\nSuddenly he runs into a trot line that a fisherman has\nleft out overnight. The hooks bite into his thigh and\nshoulder, yanking a string of startled, thrashing catfish\nout of the water.\nHe keeps running in a panic, not realizing the line is\nstaked to the shore. All at once, he jackknifes in the\nair. The stake twangs loose. The Police now spot him \nand begin firing.\n

Abby runs out of hiding, thinking at first that the Police\nmust be looking for her.\n

Why're you shooting? You'll kill him! Have you gone crazy? \nStop! Oh, Bill, not you! Not you!\n

Bill stumbles along, trying to rip the hooks from his\nflesh, but the fish--fighting their way back to the\nwater--only drive them in deeper.\nAhead two MOUNTED POLICE surge into the river, blocking\nhis retreat.\nHe empties his shotgun at them and throws it away. They\nhold up, astonished. He dashes across a sand bar for the\ndeep of the river and comparative safety. Black mud clings\nto his feet, drawing him down like a fly in molasses.\nBenson goes running out into the river ahead of the Police.\n

There you go! There you go!\nHe shoots Bill down. Bill turns and looks at him in sur-\nprise. Benson shoots him again, point blank.\n

Bill's blood fades off quickly in the gliding water of the\nriver. The line of frightened catfish dances out behind\nhim like a garland.\n

A dog trots off in alarm.\nBenson wades into shore, tears streaming down his face,\nhis chest heaving with emotion.\nAbby falls to the ground in a convulsion of grief.\nA short way down the river PEOPLE come and go along the\nbridge where they were to meet.\n

A roller piano sits in a corner by itself, playing a fox-\ntrot. The camera moves back.\n

YOUNG DANCERS are learning the foxtrot in the attic of the\nArboretum, a tacky Western version of an Eastern finishing\nschool. The steps are painted on the floor as white footprints.\nAbby is apparently enrolling Ursula here. The headmistress, \nMADAME MURPHY, boasts of the school's achievements. \nUrsula looks trapped. Abby checks her watch.\nShe must go.\n

Abby and Ursula walk down an empty street. Abby wears a\nmourning band on her sleeve. She is under the false im-\npression that Ursula likes her new home. An INDIAN PORTER\ncarts her bags along behind them in a wheelbarrow.\n

They'll teach you poise, too, so you can walk in any room you \nplease. Pretty soon you'll know all kind of things.\n

I never read a whole book till I was fifteen. It was by Caesar.\nThey laugh at her careful pronunciation of \"Caesar.\"\n

Abby's train is about to leave. The CONDUCTOR walks by\nblowing a whistle. A five-piece BAND plays Sousa airs.\nThey are practically the only civilians on the platform.\nThe rest are SOLDIERS bound for Europe, where America has\njust entered the War, on fire with excitement and a sense\nof high adventure.\n

It doesn't seem like a bird came down and landed on my head?\nAbby takes the hat off and gives it to Ursula, who lately\nhas begun to take more trouble with her appearance, comb-\ning her hair free of its usual snarls. They laugh at their reflection\nin a window of the train.\n

I hardly ever wear it. Be sure and write every week.\nSignals nod. A lamp winks. There are leave-takings up\nand down the platform as the train slides away. Abby hops\non board. A SOLDIER next to her sheds bitter tears.\n

Late that evening Ursula lowers herself out a third-floor\nwindow of the Arboretum with a rope made of bedsheets.\n

The other GIRLS stand in their nightgowns and wave good-\nbye, amazed at her boldness.\nShe slips off into the night.\n

Ursula looks in a backstage door. She can see, through\nthe wings, a MAN dancing on stage. There is a feeling of\nmad excitement about the place.\nThe person she is looking for is not here, however.\n

She runs down an alley. A man steps out of the shadows--\nGeorge, the pilot. She throws herself in his arms. This\nis our first sight of him since he left the bonanza.\n

You're here! Oh, hug me!\nThey kiss madly, with mystery. The moonlit, midsummer night thrums\n

Aren't we happy? Oh, George, has anybody ever been this happy?\nHe rocks her back and forth in his arms. They laugh,\nthinking what lucky exceptions they are to the world's\nmisery.\n

Abby changes bobbins on a huge loom. A pall of lint and\nanonymous toil hangs over the factory. Down the way a\nhandsome MALE WORKER smiles at her. She smiles back,\ninterested.\n

It seems an age we've been apart, and truly is for those who\nlove each other so. Whenever shall we meet?'\n

The shuttle rockets back and forth. Off camera we hear\nAbby reading what seems part of a letter to Ursula.\n

Soon, I hope, for by and by we'll all be gone, Urs. Does\nit really seem as though we might?'\n

We look from the bottom of a river up toward the light. \nIn the foreground, dangling from the tip of a submerged\nlimb, is the bracelet Abby threw away.\n

'The other day I tried to think how I'd look laid out in a solemn\nwhite gown. Closing my eyes I could almost hear you tiptoe inlook down in my face, so deep asleep, so still.\n

The PEOPLE of the Razumihin rebuild the land -- raising\nfences and sinking a well, plowing down the stubble and\nputting in the seed.\n

'I went to Lincoln Park Zoo the other day. It was great as usual.\nI enclose a check.'\n

An ANONYMOUS YOUNG MAN, standing on a carpet \nof new-sprung wheat, looks up with a start. From the \ndistance comes a ghostly noise--the call of the prairie \nchickens at their spring rites. He listens for just a moment, \nthen returns to work.\n

\n\n\n\n\n\n\n

True Romance\n

by Quentin Tarantino\n\n

When you are tired of relationships, try a romance.\n\n\n\n

INT. BAR - NIGHT\n\n

A smoky cocktail bar downtown Detroit.\n\n

CLARENCE WORLEY, a young hipster hepcat, is trying to pick up an older lady named LUCY. She isn't bothered by him, in fact, she's alittle charmed. But, you can tell, that she isn't going to leave her barstool.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

In \"Jailhouse Rock\" he's everything rockabilly's about. I mean he is \nrockabilly: mean, surly, nasty, rude. In that movie he couldn't give a fuck \nabout anything except rockin' and rollin', livin' fast, dyin' young, and \nleaving a good-looking corpse. I love that scene where after he's made it \nbig he's throwing a big cocktail party, and all these highbrows are there, \nand he's singing, \"Baby You're So Square... Baby, I Don't Care\". Now, they \ngot him dressed like a dick. He's wearing these stupid-lookin' pants, this \nhorrible sweater. Elvis ain't no sweater boy. I even think they got him \nwearin' penny loafers. Despite all that shit, all the highbrows at the \nparty, big house, the stupid clothes, he's still a rude-lookin' \nmotherfucker. I'd watch that hillbilly and I'd want to be him so bad. Elvis \nlooked good. I'm no fag, but Elvis was good-lookin'. He was fuckin' \nprettier than most women. I always said if I ever had to fuck a guy... I \nmean had too 'cause my life depended on it... I'd fuck Elvis.\n\n

Lucy takes a drag from her cigarette.\n\n

LUCY\n

I'd fuck Elvis.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Really?\n\n

LUCY\n

When he was alive. I wouldn't fuck him now.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

I don't blame you.\n

(they laugh)\n

So we'd both fuck Elvis. It's nice to meet people with common interests, \nisn't it?\n\n

Lucy laughs.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Well, enough about the King, how 'bout you?\n\n

LUCY\n

How 'bout me what?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

How 'bout you go to the movies with me tonight?\n\n

LUCY\n

What are we gonna see?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

A Donny Chiba triple feature. \"The Streetfighter\", \"Return of the \nStreetfighter\", and \"Sister Streetfighter\".\n\n

LUCY\n

Who's Sonny Chiba?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

He is, bar none, the greatest actor working in martial arts movies ever.\n\n

LUCY\n

(not believing this)\n

You wanna take me to a kung fu movie?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

(holding up three fingers)\n

Three kung fu movies.\n\n

Lucy takes a drag from her cigarette.\n\n

LUCY\n

(laughing)\n

I don't think so, not my cup of tea.\n\n\n

INT. DINGY HOTEL ROOM - DAY\n\n

The sounds of the city flow in through an open window: car horns, gun shots and violence. Paint is peeling off the walls and the once green carpet is stained black.\n\n

On the bed nearby is a huge open suitcase filled with clear plastic bags of cocaine. Shotguns and pistols have been dropped carelessly around the suitcase. On the far end of the room, against the wall, is a TV. \"Bewitched\" is playing.\n\n

At the opposite end of the room, by the front, is a table. DREXL SPIVEY and FLOYD DIXON sit around. Cocaine is on the table as well as little plastic bags and a weigher. Floyd is black, Drexl is a white boy, though you wouldn't know it listen to him.\n\n

DREXL\n

Nigger, get outta my face with that bullshit.\n\n

FLOYD\n

Naw man, I don't be eatin' that shit.\n\n

DREXL\n

That's bullshit.\n\n

BIG DON WATTS, a stout, mean-looking black man who's older than Drexl and Floyd. Walks through the door carrying hamburgers and french fries in two greasy brown-paper bags.\n\n

FLOYD\n

Naw man, that's some serious shit.\n\n

DREXL\n

Nigger, you lie like a big dog.\n\n

BIG D\n

What the fuck are you talkin' about?\n\n

DREXL\n

Floyd say he don't be eatin' pussy.\n\n

BIG D\n

Shit, any nigger say he don't eat pussy is lyin' his ass off.\n\n

DREXL\n

I heard that.\n\n

FLOYD\n

Hold on a second, Big D. You sayin' you eat pussy?\n\n

BIG D\n

Nigger, I eat everything. I eat pussy. I eat the butt. I eat every \nmotherfuckin' thang.\n\n

DREXL\n

Preach on, Big D.\n\n

FLOYD\n

Look here. If I ever did eat some pussy - I would never eat any pussy - \nbut, if I did eat some pussy, I sure as hell wouldn't tell no goddamn body. \nI'd be ashamed as a motherfucker.\n\n

BIG D\n

Shit! Nigger you smoke enough sherm your dumb ass'll do a lot a crazy ass \nthings. So you won't eat pussy? Motherfucker, you be up there suckin' \nniggers' dicks.\n\n

DREXL\n

Heard that.\n\n

Drexl and Big D bump fists.\n\n

FLOYD\n

Yeah, that's right, laugh. It's so funny, oh it's so funny.\n

(he takes a hit off of a joint)\n

There used to be a time when sisters didn't know shit about gettin' their \npussy licked. Then the sixties came an' they started fuckin' around with \nwhite boys. And white boys are freaks for that shit -\n\n

DREXL\n

- Because it's good!\n\n

FLOYD\n

Then, after a while sisters use to gettin' their little pussy eat. And \nbecause you white boys had to make pigs out of yourselves, you fucked it up \nfor every nigger in the world everywhere.\n\n

BIG D\n

Drexl. On behalf of me and all the brothers who aren't here, I'd like to \nexpress our gratitude -\n\n

Drexl and Big D bust up.\n\n

FLOYD\n

Go on pussy-eaters... laugh. You look like you be eatin' pussy. You got \npussy-eatin' mugs. Now if a nigger wants to get his dick sucked he's got to \ndo a bunch of fucked-up shit.\n\n

BIG D\n

So you do eat pussy!\n\n

FLOYD\n

Naw naw!\n\n

BIG D\n

You don't like it, but you eat that shit.\n

(to Drexl)\n

He eats it.\n\n

DREXL\n

Damn skippy. He like it, too.\n\n

BIG D\n

(mock English accent)\n

Me thinketh he doth protest too much.\n\n

FLOYD\n

Well fuck you guys then! You guys are fucked up!\n\n

DREXL\n

Why you trippin'? We jus' fuckin' with ya. But I wanna ask you a question. \nYou with some fine bitch, I mean a brick shithouse bitch - you're with \nJayne Kennedy. You're with Jayne Kennedy and you say \"Bitch, suck my dick!\" \nand then Jayne Kennedy says, \"First things first, nigger, I ain't suckin' \nshit till you bring your ass over here and lick my bush!\" Now, what do you \nsay?\n\n

FLOYD\n

I tell Jayne Kennedy, \"Suck my dick or I'll beat your ass!\"\n\n

BIG D\n

Nigger, get real. You touch Jayne Kennedy she'll have you ass in Wayne \nCounty so fast -\n\n

DREXL\n

Nigger, back off, you ain't beatin' shit. Now what would you do.\n\n

FLOYD\n

I'd say fuck it!\n\n

Drexl and Big D get up from the table disgusted and walk away, leaving Floyd sitting all alone.\n\n

Big D sits on the bed, his back turned to Floyd, watching \"Bewitched\".\n\n

FLOYD\n

(yelling after them)\n

Ain't no man have to eat pussy!\n\n

BIG D\n

(not even looking)\n

Take that shit somewhere else.\n\n

DREXL\n

(marching back)\n

You tell Jayne Kennedy to fuck it?\n\n

FLOYD\n

If it came down to who eats who, damn skippy.\n\n

DREXL\n

With that terrible mug of yours if Jayne Kennedy told you to eat her pussy, \nkiss her ass, lick her feet, chow on her shit, and suck her dog's dick, \nnigger, you'd aim to please.\n\n

BIG D\n

(glued on TV)\n

I'm hip.\n\n

DREXL\n

In fact, I'm gonna show you what I mean with a little demonstration. Big D, \ntoss me that shotgun.\n\n

Without turning away from \"Bewitched\" he picks up the shotgun and tosses it to Drexl.\n\n

DREXL\n

(to Floyd)\n

All right, check this out.\n

(referring to shotgun)\n

Now, pretend this is Jayne Kennedy. And you're you.\n\n

Then, in a blink, he points the shotgun at Floyd and blows him away.\n\n

Big D leaps off the bed and spins toward Drexl.\n\n

Drexl, waiting for him, fires from across the room.\n\n

The blast hits the big man in the right arm and shoulder, spinning him around.\n\n

Drexl makes a beeline for his victim and fires again.\n\n

Big D is hit with a blast, full in the back. He slams into the wall and drops.\n\n

Drexl collects the suitcase full of cocaine and leaves. As he gets to the front door he surveys the carnage, spits and walks out.\n\n\n

EXT. CLIFF'S MOVING CAR - MORNING\n\n

A big white Chevy Nova is driving down the road with a sunrise sky as a backdrop. The song \"Little Bitty Tear\" is heard a capella.\n\n\n

INT. CLIFF'S MOVING CAR - MORNING\n\n

Cliff Worley is driving his car home from work, singing this song gently to the sunrise. He's a forty-five-years-old ex-cop, at present a security guard. In between singing he takes sips from a cup of take-out coffee. He's dressed in a security guard uniform.\n\n\n

EXT. TRAILER PARK - MORNING\n\n

Cliff's Nova pulls in as he continues crooning. He pulls up to his trailer to see something that stops him short.\n\n\n

Cliff's POV Through windshield\n\n

Clarence and a nice-looking YOUNG WOMAN are watching for him in front of his trailer.\n\n\n

CLOSEUP - CLIFF\n\n

Upon seeing Clarence, a little bitty tear rolls down Cliff's cheek.\n\n

BACK TO:\n\n\n

CLIFF'S POV\n\n

Clarence and the Young Woman walk over to the car. Clarence sticks his face through the driver's side window.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Good Morning, Daddy. Long time no see.\n\n\n

INT. TRAILER HOME - MORNING\n\n

All three enter the trailer home.\n\n

CLIFF\n

Excuse the place, I haven't been entertaining company as of late. Sorry if \nI'm acting a little dense, but you're the last person in the world I \nexpected to see this morning.\n\n

Clarence and the Young Girl walk into the living room.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Yeah, well, tha's OK, Daddy, I tend to have that effect on people. I'm \ndyin' on thirst, you got anything to drink?\n\n

He moves past Cliff and heads straight for his refridgerator.\n\n

CLIFF\n

I think there's a Seven-Up in there.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

(rumaging around the fridge)\n

Anything stronger?\n

(pause)\n

Oh, probably not. Beer? You can drink beer, can't you?\n\n

CLIFF\n

I can, but I don't.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

(closing the fridge)\n

That's about all I ever eat.\n\n

Cliff looks at the Girl. She smiles sweetly at him.\n\n

CLIFF\n

(to Girl)\n

I'm sorry... I'm his father.\n\n

YOUNG GIRL\n

(sticking her hand out)\n

That's OK, I'm his wife.\n

(shaking his hand vigorously)\n

Alabama Worley, pleased to meetcha.\n\n

She is really pumping his arm, just like a used-car salesman. However, that's where the similarities end; Alabama's totally sincere.\n\n

Clarence steps back into the living room, holding a bunch of little ceramic fruit magnets in his hand. He throws his other arm around Alabama.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Oh yeah, we got married.\n

(referring to the magnets)\n

You still have these.\n

(to Alabama)\n

This isn't a complete set; when I was five I swallowed the pomegranate one. \nI never shit it out, so I guess it's still there. Loverdoll, why don't you \nbe a sport and go get us some beer. I want some beer.\n

(to Cliff)\n

Do you want some beer? Well, if you want some it's here.\n\n

He hands her some money and his car keys.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Go to the liquor store -\n

(to Cliff)\n

Where is there a liquor store around here?\n\n

CLIFF\n

Uh, yeah... there's a party store down 54th.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

(to Alabama)\n

Get a six-pack of something imported. It's hard to tell you what to get \n'cause different places have different things. If they got Fosters, get \nthat, if not, ask the guy at the thing what the strongest imported beer he \nhas. Look, since you're making a beer run, would you mind too terribly if \nyou did a foot run as well. I'm fuckin' starvin' to death. Are you hungry \ntoo?\n\n

ALABAMA\n

I'm pretty hungry. When I went to the store I was gonna get some \nDing-Dongs.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Well, fuck that shit, we'll get some real food. What would taste good.\n

(to Cliff)\n

What do you think would taste good?\n\n

CLIFF\n

I'm really not very -\n\n

CLARENCE\n

You know what would taste good? Chicken. I haven't had chicken in a while. \nChicken would really hit the spot about now. Chicken and beer, definitly, \nabsolutely, without a doubt.\n

(to Cliff)\n

Where's a good chicken place around here?\n\n

CLIFF\n

I really don't know.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

You don't know the chicken places around where you live?\n

(to Alabama)\n

Ask the guy at the place where a chicken place is.\n\n

He gives her some more money.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

This should cover it, Auggie-Doggie.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Okee-dokee, Doggie-Daddy.\n\n

She opens the door and starts out. Clarence turns to his dad as the door shuts.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Isn't she the sweetest goddamned girl you ever saw in your whole life? Is \nshe a four alarm fire, or what?\n\n

CLIFF\n

She seems very nice.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Daddy. Nice isn't the word. Nice is an insult. She's a peach. That's the \nonly word for it, she's a peach. She even tastes like a peach. You can tell \nI'm in love with her. You can tell by my face, can't ya? It's a dead \ngiveaway. It's written all over it. Ya know what? She loves me back. Take a \nseat, Pop, we gotta talk -\n\n

CLIFF\n

Clarence, just shut up, you're giving me a headache! I can't believe how \nmuch like your mother you are. You're your fuckin' mother through and \nthrough. I haven't heard from ya in three years. Then ya show up all of a \nsudden at eight o'clock in the morning. You walk in like a goddamn \nbulldozer... don't get me wrong, I'm happy to see you... just slow it down. \nNow, when did you get married?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Daddy, I'm in big fuckin' trouble and I really need your help.\n\n

BLACK TITLE CARD: \"HOLLYWOOD\"\n\n\n

INT. OUTSIDE OF CASTING DIRECTOR'S OFFICER - DAY\n\n

FOUR YOUNG ACTORS are sitting on a couch with sheets of paper in their hands silently mouthing lines. One of the actors is DICK RITCHIE. The casting director, MARY LOUISE RAVENCROFT, steps into the waiting room, clip board in hand.\n\n

RAVENCROFT\n

Dick Ritchie?\n\n

Dick pops up from the pack.\n\n

DICK\n

I'm me... I mean, that's me.\n\n

RAVENCROFT\n

Step inside.\n\n\n

INT. CASTING DIRECTOR'S OFFICE - DAY\n\n

She sits behind a large desk. Her name-plate rests on the desktop. Several posters advertising \"The Return of T.J. Hooker\" hang on the wall.\n\n

Dick sits in a chair, holding his sheets in his hands.\n\n

RAVENCROFT\n

Well, the part you're reading for is one of the bad guys. There's Brian and \nMarty. Peter Breck's already been cast as Brian. And you're reading for the \npart of Marty. Now in this scene you're both in a car and Bill Shatner's \nhanging on the hood. And what you're trying to do is get him off.\n

(she picks a up a copy of the script)\n

Whenever you're ready.\n\n

DICK\n

(reading and miming driving)\n

Where'd you come from?\n\n

RAVENCROFT\n

(reading from the script lifelessly)\n

I don't know. He just appeared as magic.\n\n

DICK\n

(reading from script)\n

Well, don't just sit there, shoot him.\n\n

She puts her script down, and smiles at him.\n\n

RAVENCROFT\n

That was very good.\n\n

DICK\n

Thank you.\n\n

RAVENCROFT\n

If we decided on making him a New York type, could you do that?\n\n

DICK\n

Sure. No problem.\n\n

RAVENCROFT\n

Could we try it now?\n\n

DICK\n

Absolutely.\n\n

Dick picks up the script and begins, but this time with a Brooklyn accent.\n\n

DICK\n

Where'd he come from?\n\n

RAVENCROFT\n

(monotone, as before)\n

I don't know. He just appeared as magic.\n\n

DICK\n

Well, don't just sit there, shoot him.\n\n

Ravencroft puts her script down.\n\n

RAVENCROFT\n

Well, Mr. Ritchie, I'm impressed. You're a very fine actor.\n\n

Dick smiles.\n\n\n

INT. TRAILER HOME - DAY\n\n

Cliff's completely aghast. He just stares, unable to come to grips with what Clarence has told him. \n\n

CLARENCE\n

Look, I don't know this is pretty heavy-duty, so if you wanna explode, feel \nfree.\n\n

CLIFF\n

You're always making jokes. That's what you do, isn't it? Make jokes. \nMaking jokes is the one thing you're good at, isn't it? But if you make a \njoke about this -\n

(raising his voice)\n

- I'm gonna go completely out of my fuckin' head!\n\n

Cliff pauses and collects himself.\n\n

CLIFF\n

What do you want from me?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

What?\n\n

CLIFF\n

Stop acting like an infant. You're here because you want me to help you in \nsome way. What do you need from me? You need money?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Do you still have friends on the force?\n\n

CLIFF\n

Yes, I still have friends on the force.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Could you find out if they know anythin'? I don't know they know shit about \nus. But I don't wanna think, I wanna know. You could find out for sure \nwhat's goin' on.\n

(pause)\n

Daddy?\n\n

CLIFF\n

What makes you think I could do that?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

You were a cop.\n\n

CLIFF\n

What makes you think I would do that?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

I'm your son.\n\n

CLIFF\n

You got it all worked out, don't you?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Look, goddamnit, I never asked you for a goddamn thing! I've tried to make \nyour parental obligation as easy as possible. After Mom divorced you, did I \nask you for anything? When I wouldn't see ya for six months to a year at a \ntime, did you ever get your shit about it? No, it was always \"OK\", \"No \nproblem\", \"You're a busy guy, I understand\". The whole time you were a \ndrunk, did I ever point my finger at you and talk shit? No! Everybody else \ndid. I never did. You see, I know that you're just a bad parent. You're not \nreally very good at it. But I know you love me. I'm basically a pretty \nresourceful guy. If I didn't really need it I wouldn't ask. And if you say \nno, don't worry about it. I'm gone. No problems.\n\n

Alabama walks in through the door carrying a shopping bag.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

The forager's back.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Thank God. I could eat a horse if you slap enough catsup on it.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

I didn't get any chicken.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

How come?\n\n

ALABAMA\n

It's nine o'clock in the morning. Nothing's open.\n\n\n

INT. TRAILER HOME - BEDROOM - DAY\n\n

Cliff's on the telephone in his bedroom, pacing as he talks. The living room od the trailer can be seen from his doorway, where Clarence and Alabama are horsing around. They giggle and cut up throughout the scene. As Cliff talks, all the noise and hubbub of a police station comes through over the line. He's talking to DETECTIVE WILSON, an old friend of his from the force.\n\n

We see both inside the conversation.\n\n

CLIFF\n

It's about that pimp that was shot a couple of days ago, Drexl Spivey.\n\n

WILSON\n

What about him?\n\n

CLIFF\n

Well, Ted, to tell you the truth, I found out through the grapevine that it \nmight be, and I only said might be, the Drexl Spivey that was responsible \nfor that restaurant break-in on Riverdale. \n\n

WILSON\n

Are you still working security for Foster & Langley?\n\n

CLIFF\n

Yeah, and the restaurant's on my route. And you know, I stuck my nose in \nfor the company to try to put a stop to some of these break-ins. Now, while \nI have no proof, the name Drexl Spivey kept comin' up Who's case is it?\n\n

WILSON\n

McTeague.\n\n

CLIFF\n

I don't know him. Is he a nice guy? You think he'll help me out?\n\n

WILSON\n

I don't see why not. When you gonna come round and see my new place?\n\n

CLIFF\n

You and Robin moved?\n\n

WILSON\n

Shit, are you behind. Me and Robin got a divorce six months ago. Got myself \na new place - mirrors all over the bedroom, ceiling fans above the bed. \nGuy'd have to look as ugly as King Kong not to get laid in this place. I'm \nserious, a guy'd have to look like a gorilla.\n\n

CUT TO:\n\n\n

EXT. TRAILER HOME - DAY\n\n

Clarence and Cliff stand by Clarence's 1965 red Mustang. Alabama's amusing herself by doing cartwheels and handstands in the background.\n\n

CLIFF\n

They have nothing. In fact, they think it's drug related.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Do tell. Why drug related?\n\n

CLIFF\n

Apparently, Drexl had a big toe stuck in shit like that.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

No shit?\n\n

CLIFF\n

Yeah. Drexl had an association with a fella named Blue Lou Boyle. Name mean \nanything to you?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Nope.\n\n

CLIFF\n

If you don't hang around in this circle, no reason it should.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Who is he?\n\n

CLIFF\n

Gangster. Drug Dealer. Somebody you don't want on your ass. Look, Clarence, \nthe more I hear about this Drexl fucker, the more I think you did the right \nthing. That guy wasn't just some wild flake.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

That's what I've been tellin' ya. The guy was like a mad dog. So the cops \naren't looking for me?\n\n

CLIFF\n

Naw, until they hear something better they'll assume Drexl and Blue Lou had \na falling out. So, once you leave twon, I wouldn't worry about it.\n\n

Clarence sticks his hand out to shake. Cliff takes it.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Thanks a lot, Daddy. You really came through for me.\n\n

CLIFF\n

I got some money I can give you -\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Keep it.\n\n

CLIFF\n

Well, son, I want you to know I hope everything works out with you and \nAlabama. I like her. I think you make a cute couple.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

We do make a cute couple, don't we?\n\n

CLIFF\n

Yeah, well, just stay outta trouble. Remeber, you got a wife to think \nabout. Quit fuckin' around.\n

(pause)\n

I love you son.\n\n

They hug each other,\n\n

Clarence takes a pice of paper out and puts it into Cliff's hand.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

This is Dick's number in Hollywood. We don't know where we'll be, but you \ncan get a hold of me through him.\n\n

Clarence turns toward Alabama and yells to her.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Bama, we're outta here. Kiss Pops goodbye,\n\n

Alabama runs across from where she was and throws her arms around Cliff and gives him a big smackeroo on the lips. Cliff's a little startled. Alabama's bubbling like a Fresca.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Bye, Daddy! Hope to see you again real soon.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

(mock anger)\n

What kind of daughterly smackeroo was that?\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Oh, hush up.\n\n

The two get into the Mustang.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

(to Cliff)\n

We'll send you a postcard as soon as we get to Hollywood.\n\n

Clarence starts the engine. The convertible roof opens as they talk.\n\n

CLIFF\n

Bama, you take care of that one for me. Keep him out of trouble.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Don't worry, Daddy, I'm keepin' this fella on a short leash.\n\n

Clarence, slowly, starts driving away.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

(to Cliff)\n

As the sun sets slowly in the west we bid a fond farewell to all the \nfriends we've made... and, with a touch of melancholy, we look forward to \nthe time when we will all be together again.\n\n

Clarence peels out, shooting a shower of gravel up in the air.\n\n

As the Mustang disappears Cliff runs his tongue over his lips.\n\n

CLIFF\n\n

The-son-of-a-bitch was right... she does taste like a peach.\n\n\n

INT. DICK'S APARTMENT - DAY\n\n

Dick's apartment is standard issue for a young actor. Things are pretty neat and clean. A nice stereo unit sits on the shelf. A framed picture of a ballet dancer's feet hangs on the wall.\n\n

The phone rings, Dick answers.\n\n

DICK\n

Hi, Dick here.\n\n\n

INT. HOTEL SUITE - LAS VEGAS - SUNSET\n\n

Top floor, Las Vegas, Nevada hotel room with a huge picture window overlooking the neon-filled strip and the flaming red and orange sunset sky.\n\n

Clarence paces up and down with the telephone in his hand.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

(big bopper voice)\n

Heeeellllloooo baaaabbbbbyyyy!!!\n\n

Note: We intercut both sides of the conversation.\n\n

DICK\n

(unsure)\n

Clarence?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

You got it.\n\n

DICK\n

It's great to hear from you.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Well, you're gonna be seein' me shortly.\n\n

DICK\n

You comin' to L.A.? When?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Tomorrow.\n\n

DICK\n

What's up? Why're leavin' Detroit?\n\n

Clarence sits down on the hotel room bed. Alabama, wearing only a long T-shirt with a big picture of Bullwinkle on it, crawls behind him.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Well, there's a story behind all that. I'll tell you when I see you. By the \nway, I won't be alone. I'm bringing my wife with me.\n\n

DICK\n

Get the fuck outta here!\n\n

CLARENCE\n

I'm a married man.\n\n

DICK\n

Get the fuck outta here!\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Believe it or not, I actually tricked a girl into falling in love with me. \nI'm not quite sure how I did it. I'd hate to have to do it again. But I did \nit. Wanna say hi to my better half?\n\n

Before Dick can respond Clarence puts Alabama on the phone.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Hi, Dick. I'm Alabama Worley.\n\n

DICK\n

Hello, Alabama.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

I can't wait to meet you. Clarence told me all about you. He said you were \nhis best friend. So, I guess that makes you my best friend, too.\n\n

Clarence start dictating to her what to say.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Tell him we gotta go.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Clarence says we gotta be hittin' it.\n\n

DICK\n

What?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Tell him we'll be hittin' his area some time tomorrow.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

He said don't go nowhere. We'll be there some time tomorrow.\n\n

DICK\n

Wait a minute - \n\n

CLARENCE\n

Tell him not to eat anything. We're gonna scarf when we get there.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Don't eat anything.\n\n

DICK\n

Alabama, could you tell Clar -\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Ask him if he got the letter.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Did you get the letter?\n\n

DICK\n

What letter?\n\n

ALABAMA\n

(to Clarence)\n

What letter?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

The letter I sent.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

(to Dick)\n

The letter he sent.\n\n

DICK\n

Clarence sent a letter?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Has he gotten his mail today?\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Gotten your mail yet?\n\n

DICK\n

Yeah, my room-mate leaves it on the TV.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

(to Clarence)\n

Yes.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Has he looked through it yet?\n\n

ALABAMA\n

(to Dick)\n

Ya looked through it?\n\n

DICK\n

Not yet.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

(to Clarence)\n

Nope.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Tell him to look through it.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

(to Dick)\n

Get it.\n\n

DICK\n

Let me speak to Clarence.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

(to Clarence)\n

He wants to speak with you.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

No time. Gotta go. Just tell him to read the letter, the letter explains \nall. Tell him I love him. And tell him, as of tomorrow, all his money \nproblems are over.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

(to Dick)\n

He can't. We gotta go, but he wants you to read the letter. The letter \nexplains it all. He wants you to know he loves you. And he wants you to \nknow that as of tomorrow, all of your money problems are over.\n\n

DICK\n

Money problems?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Now tell him goodbye.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Bye-bye.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Now hang up.\n\n

She hangs up the phone.\n\n\n

INT. DICK'S APARTMENT - DAY\n\n

Dick hears the click on the other end.\n\n

DICK\n

Hello, hello, Clarence? Clarence's wife?... I mean Alabama... hello?\n\n

Extremely confused, Dick jangs up the phone. He goes over to the TV and picks up the day's mail. He goes through it.\n\n

BILL: Southern California Gas Company.\n\n

BILL: Group W.\n\n

BILL: Fossenkemp Photography.\n\n

BILL: Columbia Record and Tape Club.\n\n

LETTER: It's obviously from Clarence. Addressed to Dick. Dick opens it.\n\n\n

EXT. TRAILER - DAY\n\n

A lower-middle-class trailer park named Astro World, which has a neon sign in front of it in the shape of a planet. \n\n

A big, white Chevy Nova pulls into the park. It parks by a trailer that's slightly less kept up than the others. Cliff gets out of the Chevy. He's drinking out of a fast-food soda cup as he opens the door to his trailer.\n\n\n

INT. TRAILER - DAY\n\n

He steps inside the doorway and then, before he knows it, a gun is pressed to his temple and a big hand grabs his shoulder.\n\n

GUN CARRIER (DARIO)\n

Welcome home, alchy. We're havin' a party.\n\n

Cliff is roughly shoved into his living room. Waiting for him are four men, standing: VIRGIL, FRANKIE (young Wise-guy) LENNY (an old Wise-guy), and Tooth-pick Vic (a fireplug pitbull type).\n\n

Sitting in Cliff's recliner is VINCENZO COCCOTTI, the Frank Nitti to Detroid mob leader Blue Lou Boyle.\n\n

Cliff is knocked to his knees. He looks up and sees the sitting Coccotti. Dario and Lenny pick him up and roughly drop him in a chair.\n\n

COCCOTTI\n

(to Frankie)\n

Tell Tooth-pick Vic to go outside and do you-know-what.\n\n

In Italian Frankie tells Tooth-pick Vic what Coccotti said. He nods and exits.\n\n

Cliff's chair is moved closer to Coccotti's. Dario stands on one side of Cliff. Frankie and Lenny ransack the trailer. Virgil has a bottle of Chivas Regal in his hand, but he has yet to touch a drop.\n\n

COCCOTTI\n

Do you know who I am, Mr. Worley?\n\n

CLIFF\n

I give up. Who are you?\n\n

COCCOTTI\n

I'm the Anti-Christ. You get me in a vendetta kind of mood, you will tell \nthe angels in heaven that you had never seen pure evil so singularly \npersonified as you did in the face of the man who killed you. My name is \nVincenzo Coccotti. I work as a counsel for Mr. Blue Lou Boyle, the man your \nson stole from. I hear you were once a cop so I assume you've heard od us \nbefore. Am I correct?\n\n

CLIFF\n

I've heard of Blue Lou Boyle.\n\n

COCCOTTI\n

I'm glad. Hopefully that will clear up the how-full-of-shit-I-am question \nyou've been asking yourself. Now, we're gonna have a little Q and A, and, \nat the risk of sounding redundant, please make your answers genuine.\n

(taking out a pack of Chesterfields)\n

Want a Chesterfield?\n\n

CLIFF\n

No.\n\n

COCCOTTI\n

(as he lights up)\n

I have a son of my own. About you boy's age. I can imagine how painful this \nmust be for you. But Clarence and that bitch-whore girlfriend of his \nbrought this all on themselves. And I implore you not to go down the road \nwith 'em. You can always take comfort in the fact that you never had a \nchoice.\n\n

CLIFF\n

Look, I'd help ya if I could, but I haven't seen Clarence -\n\n

Before Cliff can finish his sentence, Coccotti slams him hard in the nose with his fist.\n\n

COCCOTTI\n

Smarts, don't it? Gettin' slammed in the nose fucks you all up. You got \nthat pain shootin' through your brain. Your eyes fill up with water. It \nain't any kind of fun. But what I have to offer you. That's as good as it's \never gonna get, and it won't ever get that good again. We talked to your \nneighbors. They saw a Mustang, a red Mustang, Clarence's red Mustang, \nparked in front of your trailer yesterday. Mr. Worley, have you seen your \nson?\n\n

Cliff's defeated.\n\n

CLIFF\n

I've seen him.\n\n

COCCOTTI\n

Now I can't be sure of how much of what he told you. So in the chance \nyou're in the dark about some of this, let me shed some light. That whore \nyour boy hangs around with, her pimp is an associate of mine, and I don't \njust mean pimpin', in other affairs he works for me in a courier capacity. \nWell, apparently, that dirty little whore found out when we're gonna do \nsome business, 'cause your son, the cowboy and his flame, came in the room \nblastin' and didn't stop till they were pretty sure everybody was dead.\n\n

CLIFF\n

What are you talkin' about?\n\n

COCCOTTI\n

I'm talkin' about a massacre. They snatched my narcotics and hightailed it \noutta there. Wouldda gotten away with it, but your son, fuckhead that he \nis, left his driver's license in a dead guy's hand. A whore hiding in the \ncommode filled in all the blanks.\n\n

CLIFF\n

I don't believe you.\n\n

COCCOTTI\n

That's of minor importance. But what's of major fuckin' importance is that \nI believe you. Where did they go?\n\n

CLIFF\n

On their honeymoon.\n\n

COCCOTTI\n

I'm gettin' angry askin' the same question a second time. Where did they \ngo?\n\n

CLIFF\n

They didn't tell me.\n\n

Coccotti looks at him.\n\n

CLIFF\n

Now, wait a minute and listen. I haven't seen Clarence in three years. \nYesterday he shows up here with a girl, sayin' he got married. He told me \nhe needed some quick cash for a honeymoon, so he asked if he could borrow \nfive hundred dollars. I wanted to help him out so I wrote out a check. We \nwent to breakfast and that's the last I saw of him. So help me God. They \nnever thought to tell me where they were goin'. And I never thought to ask.\n\n

Coccotti looks at him for a long moment. He then gives Virgil a look. Virgil, quick as greased lightning, grabs Cliff's hand and turns it palm up. He then whips out a butterfly knife and slices Cliff's palm open and pours Chivas Regal on the wound. Cliff screams.\n\n

Coccotti puffs on a Chesterfield.\n\n

Tooth-pic Vic returns to the trailer, and reports in Italian that there's nothing in the car.\n\n

Virgil walks into the kitchen and gets a dishtowel. Cliff holds his bleeding palm in agony. Virgil hands him the dishtowel. Cliff uses it to wrap up his hand.\n\n

COCCOTTI\n

Sicilians are great liars. The best in the world. I'm a Sicilian. And my \nold man was the world heavyweight champion of Sicilian liars. And from \ngrowin' up with him I learned the pantomime. Now there are seventeen \ndifferent things a guy can do when he lies to give him away. A guy has \nseventeen pantomimes. A woman's got twenty, but a guy's got seventeen. And \nif you know 'em like ya know your own face, they beat lie detectors to \nhell. What we got here is a little game of show and tell. You don't wanna \nshow me nothin'. But you're tellin' me everything. Now I know you know \nwhere they are. So tell me, before I do some damage you won't walk away \nfrom.\n\n

The awful pain in Cliff's hand is being replaced by the awful pain in his heart. He looks deep into Coccotti's eyes. \n\n

CLIFF\n

Could I have one of those Chesterfields now?\n\n

COCCOTTI\n

Sure.\n\n

Coccotti leans over and hands him a smoke.\n\n

CLIFF\n

Got a match?\n\n

Cliff reaches into his pocket and pulls out a lighter.\n\n

CLIFF\n

Oh, don't bother. I got one.\n

(he lights the cigarette)\n

So you're a Sicilian, huh?\n\n

COCCOTTI\n

(intensly)\n

Uh-huh.\n\n

CLIFF\n

You know I read a lot. Especially things that have to do with history. I \nfind that shit fascinating. In fact, I don't know if you know this or not, \nSicilians were spawned by niggers.\n\n

All the men stop what they were doing and look at Cliff, except for Tooth-pic Vic who doesn't speak English and so isn't insulted. Coccotti can't believe what he's hearing.\n\n

COCCOTTI\n

Come again?\n\n

CLIFF\n

It's a fact. Sicilians have nigger blood pumpin' through their hearts. If \nyou don't believe me, look it up. You see, hundreds and hundreds of years \nago the Moors conquered Sicily. And Moors are niggers. Way back then, \nSicilians were like the wops in northern Italy. Blond hair, blue eyes. But, \nonce the Moors moved in there, they changed the whole country. They did so \nmuch fuckin' with the Sicilian women, they changed the blood-line for ever, \nfrom blond hair and blue eyes to black hair and dark skin. I find it \nabsolutely amazing to think that to this day, hundreds of years later, \nSicilians still carry that nigger gene. I'm just quotin' history. It's a \nfact. It's written. Your ancestors were niggers. Your great, great, great, \ngreat, great-grandmother was fucked by a nigger, and had a half-nigger kid. \nThat is a fact. Now tell me, am I lyin'?\n\n

Coccotti looks at him for a moment then jumps up, whips out an automatic, grabs hold of Cliff's hair, puts the barrel to his temple, and pumps three bullets through Cliff's head.\n\n

He pushes the body violently aside. Coccotti pauses. Unable to express his feelings and frustrated by the blood in his hands, he simply drops his weapon, and turns to his men.\n\n

COCCOTTI\n

I haven't killed anybody since 1974. Goddamn his soul to burn for eternity \nin fuckin' hell for makin' me spill blood on my hands! Go to this \ncomedian's son's apartment and come back with somethin' that tells me where \nthat asshole went so I can wipe this egg off of my face and fix this \nfucked-up family for good.\n\n

Tooth-pick Vic taps Frankie's shoulder and, in Italianm asks him what that was all about.\n\n

Lenny, who has been going through Cliff's refridgerator, has found a beer. When he closes the refridgerator door he finds a note held on by a ceramic banana magnet that says: \"Clarence in L.A.: Dick Ritchie (number and address)\".\n\n

LENNY\n

Boss, get ready to get happy.\n\n

TITLE CARD: \"CLARENCE AND ALABAMA HIT L.A.\"\n\n\n

INT. DICK'S APARTMENT- MORNING\n\n

Dick's asleep in a recliner. He's wearing his clothes from the night before. His room-mate FLOYD is lying on the sofa watching TV.\n\n

The sound of our hands knocking on his door wakes Dick up. He shakes the bats out of his belfry, opens the door, and finds the cutest couple in Los Angeles standing in his doorway.\n\n

Clarence and Alabama immediately start singing \"Hello My Baby\" like the frog in the old Chuck Jones cartoon.\n\n

CLARENCE/ALABAMA\n

Hello my baby,\nHello my honey,\nHello my ragtime gal -\n\n

DICK\n

Hi guys.\n\n

Alabama throws her arms around Dick, and gives him a quick kiss. After she breaks, Clarence does the same. Clarence and Alabama walk right past Dick and into his apartment.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Wow. Neat place.\n\n\n

INT. PINK'S HOT-DOG STAND - DAY\n\n

The Pink's employees work like skilled Benihana chefs as they assemble the ultimate masterpiece hot-dog.\n\n\n

EXT. PINK'S HOT-DOG STAND - PATIO - DAY\n\n

Clarence, Alabama, and Dick are sitting at an outdoor table chowing down on chili dogs. Alabama is in the middle of a story.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

... when my mom went into labor, my dad panicked. He never had a kid \nbefore, and crashed the car. Now, picture this: their car's demolished, \ncrowd is starting to gather, my mom is yelling, going into contractions, \nand my dad, who was losing it before, is now completely screaming yellow \nzonkers. Then, out of nowhere, as if from thin air, this big giant bus \nappears, and the bus-driver says, \"Get her in here.\". He forgot all about \nhis route and just drove straight to the hospital. So, because he was such \na nice guy, they wanted to name the baby after him, as a sign of gratitude. \nWell, his name was Waldo, and no matter how grateful they were, even if \nI'da been a boy, they would't call me Waldo. So they asked Waldo where he \nwas from. And, so there you go.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

And here we are.\n\n

DICK\n

That's a pretty amazing story.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Well, she's a pretty amazing girl. What are women like out here?\n\n

DICK\n

Just like in Detroit, only skinnier.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

You goin' out?\n\n

DICK\n

Well, for the past couple of years I've been goin' out with girls from my \nacting class.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Good for you.\n\n

DICK\n

What's so fuckin' good about it? Actresses are the most fucked-in-the-head \nbunch of women in the world. It's like they gotta pass a test of emotional \ninstability before they can get their SAG card. Oh, guess what? I had a \nreally good reading for \"T.J. Hooker\" the other day.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

You're gonna be on \"T.J. Hooker\"?\n\n

DICK\n

Knock wood.\n\n

He knocks the table and then looks at it.\n\n

DICK\n

... formica. I did real well. I think she liked me.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Did you meet Captain Kirk?\n\n

DICK\n

You don't meet him in the audition. That comes later. Hope, hope.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

(finishing her hot-dog)\n

That was so good I am gonna have another.\n\n

DICK\n

You can't have just one.\n\n

Alabama leaves to get another hot-dog. Clarence never takes his eyes off her.\n\n

DICK\n

How much of that letter was on the up and up?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Every word of it.\n\n

Dick sees where Clarence's attention is.\n\n

DICK\n

You're really in love, aren't you?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

For the very first time in my life.\n

(pause)\n

Do you know what that's like?\n\n

Clarence is so intense Dick doesn't know how to answer.\n\n

DICK\n

(regretfully)\n

No, I don't\n

(he looks at Alabama)\n

How did you two meet?\n\n

Clarence leans back thoughtfully and takes a sip from his Hebrew cream soda.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Do you remember The Lyric?\n\n\n

INT. THE LYRIC THEATER - NIGHT\n\n

Sonny Chiba, as \"Streetfighter\" Terry Surki, drives into a group of guys, fists and feet flying and whips ass on the silver screen.\n\n

Clarence sits, legs over the back of the chair in front of him, nibbling on popcorn, eyes big as sourcers, and a big smile on his face.\n\n\n

EXT. THE LYRIC THEATER - NIGHT\n\n

A cab pulls up to the outside of The Lyric. The marquee carries the names of the triple feature: \"The Streetfighter\", \"Return of the Streetfighter\" and \"Sister Streetfighter\". Alabama steps out of the taxi cab and walks up to the box office.\n\n

A box office girl reading comic looks at her.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

One please.\n\n

BOX OFFICE GIRL\n

Ninety-nine cents.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Which one is on now?\n\n

BOX OFFICE GIRL\n

\"Return of the Streetfighter\". It's been on about forty-five minutes.\n\n\n

INT. THE LYRIC THEATER - LOBBY - NIGHT\n\n

Alabama walks into the lobby and goes over to the concession stand. A young usher takes care of her.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Can I have a medium popcorn? A super-large Mr. Pibb, and a box of Goobers.\n\n\n

INT. THE LYRIC THEATER - NIGHT\n\n

It's still assholes and elbows on the screen with Sonny Chiba taking on all-comers.\n\n

Alabama walks through the doors with her bounty of food. She makes a quick scan of the theater. Not many people are there. She makes a beeline for the front whick happens to be Clarence's area of choice. She picks the row of seats just behind Clarence and starts asking her way down it.\n\n

Clarence turns and sees this beautiful girl all alone moving towards him. He turns his attention back to the screen, trying not to be so obvious.\n\n

When Alabama gets right behind Clarence, her foot thunks a discarded wine bottle, causing her to trip and spill her popcorn over Clarence.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Oh, look what happened. Oh god, I'm so sorry. Are you OK?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Yeah. I'm fine. It didn't hurt.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

I'm the clumsiest person in the world.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

(picking popcorn out of his hair)\n

It's OK. Don't worry about it. Accidents happen.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

(picking popcorn out of his hair)\n

What a wonderful philosophy. Thanks for being such a sweetheart. You could \nhave been a real dick.\n\n

Alabama sits back in her seat to watch the movie.\n\n

Clarence tries to wipe her out of his mind, which isn't easy, and get back into the movie.\n\n

They both watch the screen for a moment. Then, Alabama leans forward and taps Clarence on the shoulder.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Excuse me... I hate to bother you again. Would you mind too terribly \nfilling me in on what I missed?\n\n

Jumping on this opportunity.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Not at all. I, this guy here, he's Sonny Chiba.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

The oriental.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

The oriental in black. He's an assasin. Now, at the beginning he was hired \nto kill this guy the cops had. So he got himself arrested. They take him \ninto the police station. And he starts kickin' all the cops' asses. Now, \nwhile keepin' them at bay, he finds the guy he was supposed to kill. Does a \nnumber on him. Kicks the cops' asses some more. Kicks the bars out of the \nwindow. And jumps out into a getaway car that was waiting for him.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Want some Goobers?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Thanks a lot.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

I thought Sonny was the good guy.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

He ain't so much good guy as he's just a bad motherfucker. Sonny don't be \nbullshittin'. He fucks dudes up for life. Hold on, a fight scene's coming \nup.\n\n

They both watch, eyes wide, as Sonny Chiba kicks asses.\n\n\n

TIME CUT:\n\n

On the screen, Sonny Chiba's all jacked up. Dead bodies lie all around him. THE END (in Japanese) flashes on the screen.\n\n

The theater light go up. Alabama's now sitting in the next seat to Clarence. They're both applauding.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Great movie. Action-packed!\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Does Sonny kick ass or does Sonny kick ass?\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Sonny kicks ass.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

You shoulda saw the first original uncut version of the \"Streetfighter\". It \nwas the only movie up to that time rated X for violence. But we just saw \nthe R.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

If that was the R, I'd love to see the X.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

My name is Clarence, and what is yours?\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Alabama Whitman. Pleased to meet ya.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Is that your real name? Really?\n\n

ALABAMA\n

That's my real name, really. I got proof. See.\n\n

She shows Clarence her driver's license.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Well, cut my legs off and call me Shorty. That's a pretty original moniker \nthere, Alabama. Sounds like a Pam Grier movie.\n

(announcer voice)\n

She's a sixteen-calibre kitten, equally equipped for killin' an' lovin'! \nShe carried a sawed-off shotgun in her purse, a black belt around her \nwaist, and the white-hot fire of hate in her eyes! Alabama Whitman is Pam \nGrier! Pray for forgiveness, Rated R... for Ruthless Revenge!\n\n\n

EXT. THE LYRIC THEATER - NIGHT\n\n

Clarence and Alabama are outside the theater. With the marquee lit up in the background they both perform unskilled martial arts moves. Clarence and Alabama break up laughing.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Where's your car? I'll walk you to it.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

I took a cab.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

You took a cab to see three kung fu movies?\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Sure. Why not?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Nothing. It's just you're a girl after my own heart.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

What time is it?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

'Bout twelve.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

I suppose you gotta get up early, huh?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

No. Not particularly.\n

(pause)\n

How come?\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Well, it's just when I see a really good movie I really like to go out and \nget some pie, and talk about it. It's sort of tradition. Do you like to eat \npie after you've seen a good movie?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

I love to get pie after a movie.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Would you like to get some pie?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

I'd love some pie.\n\n\n

INT. DENNY'S RESTAURANT - NIGHT\n\n

Clarence and Alabama are sitting in a booth at an all-night Denny's. It's about 12:40 a.m. Clarence is having a piece of chocolate cream pie and a coke. Alabama's nibbling on a peace of heated apple pie and sipping on a large Tab.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Well, enough about the King. How about you?\n\n

ALABAMA\n

How 'bout me what?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Tell me about yourself.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

There's nothing to tell.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

C'mon. What're ya tryin' to be? The Phantom Lady?\n\n

ALABAMA\n

What do you want to know?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Well, for starters, what do you do? Where're ya from? What's your favorite \ncolor? Who's your favorite movie star? What kinda music do you like? What \nare your turn-ons and turn-offs? Do you have a fella? What's the story \nbehind you takin' a cab to the most dangerous part of town alone? And, in a \ntheater full of empty seats, why did you sit by me?\n\n

Alabama takes a bite of pie, puts down her fork, and looks at Clarence.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Ask me them again. One by one.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

What do you do?\n\n

ALABAMA\n

I don't remember.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Where are you from.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Might be from Tallahassee. But I'm not sure yet.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

What's your favorite color?\n\n

ALABAMA\n

I don't remember. But off the top of my head, I'd say black.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

What's your favorite movie star?\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Burt Reynolds.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Would you like a bite of my pie?\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Yes, I would.\n\n

Clarence scoops up a piece on his fork and Alabama bites it off.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Like it?\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Very much. Now, where were we?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

What kinda music do you like?\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Phil Spector. Girl group stuff. You know, like \"He's a Rebel\".\n\n

CLARENCE\n

What are your turn-ons?\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Mickey Rourke, somebody who can appreciate the finer things in life, like \nElvis's voice, good kung fu, and a tasty piece of pie.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Turn-offs?\n\n

ALABAMA\n

I'm sure there must be something, but I don't really remember. The only \nthing that comes to mind are Persians.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Do you have a fella?\n\n

She looks at Clarence and smiles.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

I'm not sure yet. Ask me again later.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

What's the story behind you takin' a cab to the most dangerous part of town \nalone?\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Apparently, I was hit on the head with something really heavy, giving me a \nform of amnesia. When I came to, I didn't know who I was, where I was, or \nwhere I came from. Luckily, I had my driver's license or I wouldn't even \nknow my name. I hoped it would tell me where I lived but it had a \nTallahassee address on it, and I stopped somebody on the street and they \ntold me I was in Detroit. So that was no help. But I did have some money on \nme, so I hopped in a cab until I saw somethin' that looked familiar. For \nsome reason, and don't ask me why, that theater looked familiar. So I told \nhim to stop and I got out.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

And in a theater full of empty seats, why did you sit by me?\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Because you looked like a nice guy, and I was a little scared. And I sure \ncouldda used a nice guy about that time, so I spilled my popcorn on you.\n\n

Clarence looks at her closely. He picks up his soda and sucks on the straw until it makes that slurping sound. He puts it aside and stares into her soul.\n\n

A smile cracks on her face and develops into a big wide grin.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Aren't you just dazzled by my imagination, lover boy?\n

(eats her last piece of pie)\n

Where to next?\n\n\n

INT. COMIC BOOK STORE - NIGHT\n\n

It's about 1:30 a.m. Clarence has taken Alabama to where he works. It's a comic book store called Heroes For Sale. Alabama thinks this place is super-cool.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Wow. What a swell place to work.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Yeah, I got the key, so I come here at night, hang out, read comic books, \nplay music.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

How long have you worked here?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Almost four years.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

That's a long time.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

I'm hip. But you know, I'm comfortable here. It's easy work. I know what \nI'm doing. Everybody who works here is my buddy. I'm friendly with most of \nthe customers. I just hang around and talk about comic books all day.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Do you get paid a lot?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

That's where trouble comes into paradise. But the boss let's you borrow \nsome money if you need it. Wanna see what \"Spiderman\" number one looks \nlike?\n\n

ALABAMA\n

You bet. How much is that worth?\n\n

Clarence gets a box off the shelf.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Four hundred bucks.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

I didn't even know they had stores that just sold comic books.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Well, we sell other things too. Cool stuff. \"Man from U.N.C.L.E.\" Lunch \nboxes. \"Green Hornet\" board games. Shit like that. But comic books are main \nbusiness. There's a lot of collectors around here.\n\n

She holds up a little GI Joe sized action figure of a black policeman.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

What's that?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

That's a \"Rookies\" doll. George Sanford Brown. We gotta lotta dolls. \nThey're real cool. Did you know they came out with dolls for all the actors \nin \"The Black Hole\"? I always found it funny somewhere there's a kid \nplayin' with a little figure of Earnest Borgnine.\n\n

He pulls a plastic-cased \"Spiderman\" comic form the box.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

\"Spiderman\", number one. The one that started it all.\n\n

Clarence shows the comic book to Alabama.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

God, Spiderman looks different.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

He was just born, remember? This is the first one. You know that guy, Dr. \nGene Scott? He said that the story of Spiderman is the story of Christ, \njust disguised. Well, I thought about that even before I heard him say it. \nHold on, let me show you my favorite comic book cover of all time.\n\n

He pulls out another comic.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

\"Sgt. Fury and His Howling Commandos\". One of the coolest series known to \nman. They're completely worthless. You can get number one for about four \nbucks. But that's one of the cool things about them, they're so cheap.\n

(he opens one up)\n

Just look at that artwork, will ya. Great stories. Great Characters. Look \nat this one.\n\n

We see the \"Sgt. Fury\" panels.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Nick's gotten a ring from his sweetheart and he wears it around his neck on \na chain. OK, later in the story he gets into a fight with a Nazi bastard on \na ship. He knocks the guy overboard, but the Kraut grabs ahold of his chain \nand the ring goes overboard too. So, Nick dives into the ocean to get it. \nIsn't that cool?\n\n

She's looking into Clarence's eyes. He turns and meets her gaze.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Alabama, I'd like you to have this.\n\n

Clarence hands her the \"Sgt. Fury and His Howling Commandos\" comic book that he loves so much.\n\n\n

INT. CLARENCE'S APARTMENT - BEDROOM - NIGHT\n\n

Clarence's bedroom is a pop culture explosion. Movie posters, pictures of Elvis, anything you can imagine. The two walk through the door.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

What a cool room!\n\n

She runs and does a jumping somersault into his bed.\n\n

Later. Alabama's sitting Indian-style going through Clarence's photo album. Clarence is behind her planting little kisses on her neck and shoulders.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Oooooh, you look so cute in your little cowboy outfit. How old were you \nthen?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Five.\n\n

She turns the page.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Oh, you look so cute as little Elvis.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

I finally knew what I wanted when I grew up.\n\n\n

LATER - LIVING ROOM\n\n

Clarence and Alabama slow dance in the middle of his room to Janis Joplin's \"Piece of My Heart\".\n\n

CLARENCE\n

You know when you sat behind me?\n\n

ALABAMA\n

At the movies?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Uh-huh, I was tryin' to think of somethin' to say to you, then I thought, \nshe doesn't want me bothering her.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

What would make you think that?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

I dunno. I guess I'm just stupid.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

You're not stupid. Just wrong.\n\n

They move to the music. Alabama softly, quietly sings some of the words to the song.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

I love Janis.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

You know, a lot of people have misconceptions of how she died.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

She OD'd, didn't she?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Yeah, she OD'd. But wasn't on her last legs or anythin'. She didn't take \ntoo much. It shouldn't have killed her. There was somethin' wrong with what \nshe took.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

You mean she got a bad batch?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

That's what happened. In fact, when she died, it was considered to be the \nhappiest time of her life. She'd been fucked over so much by men she didn't \ntrust them. She was havin' this relationship with this guy and he asked her \nto marry him. Now, other people had asked to marry her before, but she \ncouldn't be sure whether they really loved her or were just after her \nmoney. So, she said no. And the guy says, \"Look, I really love you, and I \nwanna prove it. So have your lawyers draw up a paper that says no matter \nwhat happens, I can never get any of your money, and I'll sign it.\" So she \ndid, and he asked her, and she said yes. And once they were engaged he told \nher a secret about himself that she never knew: he was a millionaire.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

So he really loved her?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Uh-huh.\n\n

They kiss.\n\n\n

INT. CLARENCE'S APARTMENT - BEDROOM - DAY\n\n

It's the next day, around 1 p.m. Clarence wakes up in his bed, alone. He looks around, and no Alabama. Then he hears crying in the distance. He puts on a robe and investigates.\n\n\n

INT. CLARENCE'S APARTMENT - LIVING ROOM - DAY\n\n

Alabama's wearing one of Clarence's old shirts. She's curled up in a chair crying. Clarence approaches her. She tries to compose herself.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

What's wrong, sweetheart? Did I do something? What did I do?\n\n

ALABAMA\n

You didn't do nothing.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Did you hurt yourself?\n

(he takes her foot)\n

Whatd'ya do? Step on a thumbtack?\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Clarence, I've got something to tell you. I didn't just happen to be at the \ntheater. I was paid to be there.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

What are you, a theater checker? You check up on the box office girls. Make \nsure they're not rippin' the place off.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

I'm not a theater checker. I'm a call girl.\n\n

Pause.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

You're a whore?\n\n

ALABAMA\n

I'm a call girl. There's a difference, ya know.\n

(pause)\n

I don't know. Maybe there's not. That place you took me to last night, that \ncomic book place.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

\"Heroes For Sale\"?\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Yeah, that one. Somebody who works there arranged to have me meet you.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Who?\n\n

ALABAMA\n

I don't know. I didn't talk with them. The plan was for me to bump into \nyou, pick you up, spend the night, and skip out after you fell asleep. I \nwas gonna write you a note and say that this was my last day in America. \nThat I was leaving on a plane this morning up to Ukraine to marry a rich \nmillionaire, and thank you for making my last day in America my best day.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

That dazzling imagination.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

It's over on the TV. All it says is: \"Dear Clarence.\" I couldn't write \nanymore. I didn't not want to ever see you again. In fact, it's stupid not \nto ever see you again. Las night... I don't know... I felt... I hadn't had \nthat much fun since Girl Scouts. So I just said, \"Alabama, come clean, Let \nhim know what's what, and if he tells you to go fuck yourself then go back \nto Drexl and fuck yourself.\"\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Who and what is a Drexl?\n\n

ALABAMA\n

My pimp.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

You have a pimp?\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Uh-huh.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

A real live pimp?\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Uh-huh.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Is he black?\n\n

ALABAMA\n

He thinks he is. He says his mother was Apache, but I suspect he's lying.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Is he nice?\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Well, I wouldn't go so far as to call him nice, but he's treated me pretty \ndecent. But I've only been there about four days. He got a little rough \nwith Arlene the other day.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

What did he do to Arlene?\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Slapped her around a little. Punched her in the stomch. It was pretty \nscary.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

This motherfucker sounds charming!\n\n

Clarence is on his feet, furious.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Goddamn it, Alabama, you gotta get the fuck outta there! How much longer \nbefore he's slappin' you around? Punchin' you in the stomach? How the fuck \ndid you get hooked up with a douche-bag like this in the first place?\n\n

ALABAMA\n

At the bus station. He said I'd be a perfect call girl. And that he knew an \nagency in California that, on his recommendation, would handle me. They \nhave a very exclusive clientele: movie stars, big businessmen, total \nwhite-collar. And all the girls in the agency get a grand a night. At least \nfive hundred. They drive Porsches, live in condos, have stockbrokers, carry \nbeepers, you know, like Nancy Allen in \"Dressed to Kill\". And when I was \nready he'd call 'em, give me a plane ticket, and send me on my way. He says \nhe makes a nice finder's fee for finding them hot prospects. But no one's \ngonna pay a grand a night for a girl who doesn't know whether to shit or \nwind her watch. So what I'm doin' for Drexl now is just sorta learnin' the \nropes. It seemed like a lotta fun, but I don't really like it much, till \nlast night. You were only my third trick, but you didn't feel like a trick. \nSince it was a secret, I just pretended I was on a date. An, um, I guess I \nwant a second date.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Thank you. I wanna see you again too. And again, and again, and again. \nBama, I know we haven't known each other long, but my parents went together \nall throughout high school, and they still got a divorce. So, fuck it, you \nwanna marry me?\n\n

ALABAMA\n

What?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Will you be my wife?\n\n

When Alabama gives her answer, her voice cracks.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Yes.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

(a little surprised)\n

You will?\n\n

ALABAMA\n

You better not be fucking teasing me.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

You better not be fuckin' teasin' me.\n\n

They seal it with a kiss.\n\n\n

LATER - THAT NIGHT\n\n

CLOSEUP - Alabama's wedding ring.\n\n

The newlyweds are snuggling up together onthe couch watching TV. The movie they're watching is \"The Incredible One-Armed Boxer vs. the Master of the Flying Guillotine\". Alabama watches the screen, but every so often she looks down to admre the ring on her hand.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Did ya ever see \"The Chinese Professionals\"?\n\n

ALABAMA\n

I don't believe so.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Well, that's the one that explains how Jimmy Wang Yu became the Incredible \nOne-Armed Boxer.\n\n

We hear, off screen, the TV Announcer say:\n\n

TV ANNOUNCER\n

(off)\n

We'll return to Jimmy Wang Yu in... \"The Incredible One-Armed Boxer vs. the \nMaster of the Flying Guillotine\", tonight's eight o'clock movie, after \nthese important messages...\n\n

Clarence looks at the TV. He feels the warmth of Alabama's hand holding his. We see commercials playing.\n\n

He turns in her direction. She's absent-mindedly looking at her wedding ring.\n\n

He smiles and turns back to the TV.\n\n

More commercials.\n\n

Dolly close on Clarence's face\n\n\n

FLASH ON:\n\n

Alabama, right after he proposed.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

You better not be fucking teasing me.\n\n\n

FLASH ON:\n\n

In a cute, all-night wedding chapel. Clarence dressed in a rented tuxedo and Alabama in a rented white wedding gown.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

I do.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Thank you.\n\n\n

FLASH ON:\n\n

Clarence and Alabama, dressed in tux and gown, doing a lover's waltz on a ballroom dance floor.\n\n\n

FLASH ON:\n\n

Clarence and Alabama in a taxi cab.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Hello, Mrs. Worley.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

How do you do, Mr. Worley?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Top o' the morning, Mrs. Worley.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Bottom of the ninth . Mr. Worley. Oh, by the by, Mr. Worley, have you seen \nyour lovely wife today?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Oh, you're speaking of my charming wife Mrs. Alabama Worley.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Of course. Are there others, Mr. Worley?\n\n

Moving on top of her.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Not for me.\n\n

He starts kissing her and moving her down on the seat. She resists.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

(playfully)\n

No no no no no no no no no...\n\n

CLARENCE\n

(playfully)\n

Yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes...\n\n\n

FLASH ON:\n\n

A big mean-looking black man in pimp's clothes.\n\n

PIMP\n

Bitch, you better git yo ass back on the street an' git me my money.\n\n

Pimp on street corner with his arm around Alabama, giving her a sales pitch to a potential customer.\n\n

PIMP\n

I'm tellin' you, my man, this bitch is fine. This girl's a freak! You can \nfuck 'er in the ass, fuck 'er in the mouth. Rough stuff, too. She's a freak \nfor it. Jus' try not to fuck 'er up for life.\n\n\n

FLASH ON:\n\n

Pimp beating Alabama.\n\n

PIMP\n

You holdin' out on me, girl? Bitch, you never learn!\n\n\n

FLASH ON:\n\n

Alabama passionately kissing the uninterested pimp.\n\n

PIMP\n

Hang it up, momma. I got no time for this bullshit.\n\n\n

BACK TO:\n\n

TV showing kung fu film.\n\n\n

BACK TO:\n\n

Clarence's face. There's definitely something different about his eyes.\n\n

Clarence springs off the couch and goes into his bedroom. Alabama's startled by his sudden movement.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

(yelling after him)\n

Where you goin', honey?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

(off)\n

I just gotta get somethin'.\n\n\n

INT. CLARENCE'S APARTMENT - BATHROOM - NIGHT\n\n

Clarence splashes water on his face, trying to wash away the images that keep polluting his mind. Then, he hears a familiar voice.\n\n

FAMILIAR VOICE\n

(off)\n

Well? Can you live with it?\n\n

Clarence turns and sees that the voice belongs to Elvis Presley. Clarence isn't surprised to see him.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

What?\n\n

ELVIS\n

Can you live with it?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Live with what?\n\n

ELVIS\n

With that son-of-a-bitch walkin' around breathin' the same air as you? And \ngettin' away with it every day. Are you haunted?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Yeah.\n\n

ELVIS\n

You wanna get unhaunted?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Yeah.\n\n

ELVIS\n

Then shoot 'em. Shoot 'em in the face. And feed that boy to the dogs.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

I can't believe what you're tellin' me.\n\n

ELVIS\n

I ain't tellin' ya nothin'. I'm just sayin' what I'd do.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

You'd really do that?\n\n

ELVIS\n

He don't got no right to live.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Look, Elvis, he is hauntin' me. He doesn't deserve to live. And I do want \nto kill him. But I don't wanna go to jail for the rest of my life.\n\n

ELVIS\n

I don't blame you.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

If I thought I could get away with it -\n\n

ELVIS\n

Killin' 'em's the hard part. Gettin' away with it's the easy part. Whaddaya \nthink the cops do when a pimp's killed? Burn the midnight oil tryin' to \nfind who done it? They couldn't give a flyin' fuck if all the pimps in the \nwhole wide world took two in the back of the fuckin' head. If you don't get \ncaught at the scene with the smokin' gun in your hand, you got away with \nit.\n\n

Clarence looks at Elvis.\n\n

ELVIS\n

Clarence, I like ya. Always have, always will.\n\n\n

INT. CLARENCE'S APARTMENT - BEDROOM - NIGHT\n\n

CLOSEUP - A snub-nosed .38, which Clarence loads and sticks down his heavy athletic sock.\n\n\n

INT. CALRENCE'S APARTMENT - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT\n\n

Clarence returns.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Sweetheart, write down your former address.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

What?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Write down Drexl's address.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Why?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

So I can go over there and pick up your things.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

(really scared)\n

No, Clarence. Just forget it, babe. I just wanna disappear from there.\n\n

He kneels down before her and holds her hand.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Look, sweetheart, he scares you. But I'm not scared of that motherfucker. \nHe can't touch you now. You're completely out of his reach. He poses \nabsolutely no threat to us. So, if he doesn't matter, which he doesn't, it \nwould be stupid to lose your things, now wouldn't it?\n\n

ALABAMA\n

You don't know him -\n\n

CLARENCE\n

You don't know me. Not when it comes to shit like this. I have to do this. \nI need for you to know you can count on me to protect you. Now write down \nthe address.\n\n

TITLE CARD: \"CASS QUARTER, HEART OF DETROIT\"\n\n\n

EXT. DOWNTOWN DETROIT STREET - NIGHT\n\n

It's pretty late at night. Clarence steps out of his red Mustang. He's right smack dab in the middle of a bad place to be in daytime. He checks the pulse on his neck; it's beating like a race horse. To pump himself up he does a quick Elvis Presley gyration.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

(in Elvis voice)\n

Yeah... Yeah...\n\n

He makes a beeline for the front door of a large, dark apartment building.\n\n\n

INT. DARK BUILDING - NIGHT\n\n

He's inside. His heart's really racing now. He has the TV guide that Alabama wrote the address on in his hand. He climbs a flight of stairs and makes his way down a dark hallway to apartment 22, the residence of Drexl Spivey. Clarence knock on the door.\n\n

A Young Black Man, about twenty years old, answers the door. He has really big biceps and is wearing a black and white fishnet football jersey.\n\n

YOUNG BLACK MAN\n

You want somethin'?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Drexl?\n\n

YOUNG BLACK MAN\n

Naw, man, I'm Marty. Watcha want?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

I gotta talk to Drexl.\n\n

MARTY\n

Well, what the fuck you wanna tell him?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

It's about Alabama.\n\n

A figure jumps in the doorway wearing a yellow Farah Fawcett T-shirt. It's our friend, Drexl Spivey.\n\n

DREXL\n

Where the fuck is that bitch?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

She's with me.\n\n

DREXL\n

Who the fuck are you?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

I'm her husband.\n\n

DREXL\n

Well. That makes us practically related. Bring your ass on in.\n\n\n

INT. DREXL'S LIVING ROOM - NIGHT\n\n

Drexl and Marty about-face and walk into the room, continuing a conversation they were having and leaving Clarence standing in the doorway. This is not the confrontation Clarence expected. He trails in behind Drexl and Marty.\n\n

DREXL\n

(to Marty)\n

What was I sayin'?\n\n

MARTY\n

Rock whores.\n\n

DREXL\n

You ain't seen nothin' like these rock whores. They ass be young man. They \ngot that fine young pussy. Bitches want the rock they be a freak for you. \nThey give you hips, lips, and fingertips.\n\n

Drexl looks over his shoulder at Clarence.\n\n

DREXL\n

(to Clarence)\n

You know what I'm talkin' about.\n\n

Drexl gestures to one of the three stoned Hookers lounging about the apartment.\n\n

DREXL\n

(to Marty)\n

These bitches over here ain't shit. You stomp them bitches to death to get \nthe kind of pussy I'm talkin' about.\n\n

Drexl sits down at a couch with a card table in front of it, scattered with take-out boxes of Chinese food. A black exploitation movie is playing on TV.\n\n

DREXL\n

Looky here, you want the bitches to really fly high, make your rocks with \nCherry Seven-Up.\n\n

MARTY\n

Pussy love pink rocks.\n\n

This is not how Clarence expected to confront Drexl, but this is exactly what he expected Drexl to be like. He positions himself in front of the food table, demanding Drexl's attention.\n\n

DREXL\n

(eating with chopsticks, to Clarence)\n

Grab a seat there, boy. Want some dinner? Grab yourself an egg roll. We got \neverything here from a diddle-eyed-Joe to a damned-if-I-know.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

No thanks.\n\n

DREXL\n

No thanks? What does that mean? Means you ate before you came down here? \nAll full. Is that it? Naw, I don't think so. I think you're too scared to \nbe eatin'. Now, see we're sittin' down here, ready to negotiate, and you've \nalready given up your shit. I'm still a mystery to you. But I know exactly \nwhere your ass is comin' from. See, if I asked you if you wanted some \ndinner and you grabbed an egg roll and started to chow down, I'd say to \nmyself, \"This motherfucker's carryin' on like he ain't got a care in the \nworld. Who know? Maybe he don't. Maybe this fool's such a bad motherfucker, \nhe don't got to worry about nothin', he just sit down, eat my Chinese, \nwatch my TV.\" See? You ain't even sat down yet. On that TV there, since you \nbeen in the room, is a woman with her titties hangin' out, and you ain't \neven bothered to look. You just been starin' at me. Now, I know I'm pretty, \nbut I ain't as pretty as a couple of titties.\n\n

Clarence takes out an envelope and throws it on the table.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

I'm not eatin' 'cause I'm not hungry. I'm not sittin' 'cause I'm not \nstayin'. I'm not lookin' at the movie 'cause I saw it seven years ago. It's \n\"The Mack\" with Max Julian, Carol Speed, and Richard Pryor, written by \nBobby Poole, directed by Michael Campus, and released by Cinerama Releasing \nCompany in 1984. I'm not scared of you. I just don't like you. In that \nenvelope is some payoff money. Alabama's moving on to some greener \npastures. We're not negotiatin'. I don't like to barter. I don't like to \ndicker. I never have fun in Tijuana. That price is non-negotiable. What's \nin that envelope is for my peace of mind. My peace of mind is worth that \nmuch. Not one penny more, not one penny more.\n\n

You could hear a pin drop. Once Clarence starts talking Marty goes on full alert. Drexl stops eating and the Whores stop breathing. All eyes are on Drexl. Drexl drops his chopsticks and opens the envelope. It's empty.\n\n

DREXL\n

It's empty.\n\n

Clarence flashes a wide Cheshire cat grin that says, \"That's right, asshole.\"\n\n

Silence.\n\n

DREXL\n

Oooooooooh weeeeeeee! This child is terrible. Marty, you know what we got \nhere? Motherfuckin' Charles Bronson. Is that who you supposed to be? Mr. \nMajestyk? Looky here, Charlie, none of this shit is necessary. I ain't got \nno hold on Alabama. I just tryin' to lend the girl a helpin' hand -\n\n

Before Drexl finishes his sentence he picks up the card table and throws it at Clarence, catching him of guard.\n\n

Marty comes up behind Clarence and throws his arm around his neck, putting him in a tight choke hold. \n\n

Clarence, with his free arm, hits Marty hard with his elbow in the solar plexus. We'll never know if that blow had any effect because at just that moment Drexl takes a flying leap and tackles the two guys.\n\n

All of them go crashing into the stereo unit and a couple of shelves that hold records, all of which collapse to the floor in a shower of LPs.\n\n

Marty, who's on the bottom of the pile, hasn't let go of Clarence.\n\n

Since Drexl's on top, he starts slamming fists into Clarence's face.\n\n

Clarence, who's sandwiched between these two guys, can't do a whole lot about it.\n\n

DREXL\n

Ya wanna fuck with me?\n

(hits Clarence)\n

Ya wanna fuck with me?\n

(hits Clarence)\n

I'll show ya who you're fuckin' wit!\n\n

He hits Clarence hard in the face with both fists.\n\n

Clarence, who has no leverage whatsoever, grabs hold of Drexl's face and digs his nails in. He sticks his thumb in Drexl's mouth, grabs a piece of cheek, and starts twisting.\n\n

Marty, who's in an even worse position, can do nothing but tighten his grip aroud Clarence's neck, until Clarence feels like his eyes are going to pop out of his head.\n\n

Drexl's face is getting torn up, but he's also biting down hard on Clarence's thumb.\n\n

Clarence raises his head and brings it down fast, crunching Marty's face, and busting his nose.\n\n

Marty loosens his grip around Clarence's neck. Clarence wiggles free and gets up on his knees.\n\n

Drexl and Clarence are now on an even but awkward footing. The two are going at each other like a pair of alley cats, not aiming their punches, keeping them coming fast and furious. They're not doing much damage to each other because of their positions, it's almost like a hockey fight.\n\n

Marty sneaks up behind Clarence and smashes him in the head with a stack of LPs. This disorients Clarence. Marty grabs him from behind and pulls him to his feet.\n\n

Drexl socks him in the face: one, two three! Then he kicks him hard in the balls.\n\n

Marty lets go and Clarence hits the ground like a sack of potatoes. He curls up into a fetal position and holds his balls, tears coming out of his eyes.\n\n

Drexl's face is torn up from Clarence's nails.\n\n

Marty has blood streaming down his face frim his nose and on to his shirt.\n\n

DREXL\n

(to Marty)\n

You OK? That stupid dumb-ass didn't break your nose, did he?\n\n

MARTY\n

Naw. It don't feel too good but it's alright.\n\n

Drexl kicks Clarence, who's still on the ground hurting.\n\n

DREXL\n

(to Clarence)\n

You see what you get when you fuck wit me, white boy? You're gonna walk in \nmy goddamn house, my house! Gonna come in here and tell me! Talkin' smack, \nin my house, in front of my employees. Shit! Your ass must be crazy.\n

(to Marty)\n

I don't think that white boy's got good sense. Hey, Marty.\n

(laughing)\n

He must of thought it was white boy day. It ain't white boy day, is it?\n\n

MARTY\n

(laughing)\n

Naw, man, it ain't white boy day.\n\n

DREXL\n

(to Clarence)\n

Shit, man, you done fucked up again. Next time you bogart your way into a \nnigger's crib, an' get all his face, make sure you do it on white boy day.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

(hurting)\n

Wannabee nigger...\n\n

DREXL\n

Fuck you! My mother was Apache.\n\n

Drexl kicks him again. Clarence curls up.\n\n

Drexl bends down and looks for Clarence's wallet in his jacket.\n\n

Clarence still can't do much. The kick to his balls still has him down.\n\n

Drexl finds it and pulls it out. He flips it open to driver's license.\n\n

DREXL\n

Well, well, well, looky what we got here. Clarence Worley. Sounds almost \nlike a nigger name.\n

(to Clarence)\n

Hey, dummy.\n\n

He puts his foot on Clarence's chest. Clarence's POV as he looks up.\n\n

DREXL\n

Before you bought your dumb ass through the door, I didn't know shit. I \njust chalked it up to au revoir Alabama. But, because you think you're some \nmacho motherfucker, I know who she's with. You. I know who you are, \nClarence Worley. And, I know where you live, 4900 116th street, apartment \n48. And I'll make a million-dollar bet, Alabama's at the same address. \nMarty, take the car and go get 'er. Bring her dumb ass back here.\n\n

He hands Marty the driver's license. Maty goes to get the car keys and a jacket.\n\n

DREXL\n

(to Marty)\n

I'll keep lover boy here entertained.\n

(to Clarence)\n

You know the first thing I'll do when she gets here. I think I'll make her \nsuck my dick, and I'll come all in her face. I mean it ain't nuttin' new. \nShe's done it before. But I want you as a audience.\n

(hollering to Marty)\n

Marty, what the fuck are you doin'?\n\n

MARTY\n

(off)\n

I'm tryin' to find my jacket.\n\n

DREXL\n

Look in the hamper. Linda's been dumpin' everybody's stray clothes there \nlately.\n\n

While Drexl has his attention turned to Marty, Clarence reaches into his sock and pulls out the .38. he stick the barrel between Drexl's legs. Drexl, who's standing over Clarence, looks down just in time to see Clarence pull the trigger and blow his balls to bits. Tiny spots of blood speckle Clarence's face.\n\n

Drexl shrieks in horror and pain, and falls to the ground.\n\n

MARTY\n

(off)\n

What's happening?\n\n

Marty steps into the room.\n\n

Clarence doesn't hesitate, he shoots Marty four times in the chest.\n\n

Two of three Hookers have run out of the front door, screaming. The other Hooker is curled up in the corner. She's too stoned to run, but stoned enough to be terrified.\n\n

Drexl, still alive, is laying on the ground howling, holding what's left of his balls and his dick.\n\n

Clarence points the gun at the remaining Hooker.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Get a bag and put Alabama's thing in it!\n\n

She doesn't move.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

You wanna get shot? I ain't got all fuckin' day, so move it!\n\n

The Hooker, tears of fear ruining her mascara, grabs a suitcase from under the bed, and, on her hands and knees, pushes it along the floor to Clarence.\n\n

Clarence takes it by the handle and wobbles over to Drexl, who's curled up like a pillbug.\n\n

CLOSEUP - Clarence's forgotten driver's license in Marty's bloody hand.\n\n

Clarence puts his foot on Drexl's chest.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

(to Drexl)\n

Open you eyes, laughing boy.\n\n

He doesn't. Clarence gives him a kick.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Open your eyes!\n\n

He does. It's now Drexl's POV from the floor.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

You thought it was pretty funny, didn't you?\n\n

He fires.\n\n

CLOSEUP - The bullet comes out of the gun and heads right toward us. When it reaches us, the screen goes awash in red.\n\n\n

INT. CLARENCE'S APARTMENT - NIGHT\n\n

The front swings open and Clarence walks in. Alabama jumps off the couch and runs toward Clarence, before she reaches him he blurts out:\n\n

CLARENCE\n

I killed him.\n\n

She stops short.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

I've got some food in the car, I'll be right back.\n\n

Clarence leaves. Except for the TV playing, the room is quiet. Alabama sits on the couch.\n\n

Clarence walks back into the room with a whole bounty of take-out food. He heaps it on to the coffee table and starts to chow down.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Help yourself. I got enough. I am fuckin' starvin'. I think I ordered one \nof everythin'.\n\n

He stops and looks at here.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

I am so hungry.\n\n

He starts eating french fries and hamburgers.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

(in a daze)\n

Was it him or you?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Yeah. But to be honest, I put myself in that position. When I drove up \nthere I said to myself, \"If I can kill 'em and get away with it, I'll do \nit.\" I could. So I did.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Is this a joke?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

No joke. This is probably the best hamburger I've ever had. I'm serious, \nI've never had a hamburger taste this good.\n\n

Alabama starts to cry. Clarence continues eating, ignoring her.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Come on, Bama, eat something. You'll feel better.\n\n

She continues crying. He continues eating and ignoring her. Finally he spins on her, yelling:\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Why are you crying? He's not worth one of your tears. Would you rather it \nhad been me? Do you love him?\n

(no answer)\n

Do you love him?\n

(no answer)\n

Do you love him?\n\n

She looks at Clarence, having a hard time getting a word out.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

I think what you did was...\n\n

CLARENCE\n

What?\n\n

ALABAMA\n

I think what you did...\n\n

CLARENCE\n

What?\n\n

ALABAMA\n

... was so romantic.\n\n

Clarence is completely taken back. They meet in a long, passionate lovers' kiss. Their kiss breaks and slowly the world comes back to normal.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

I gotta get outta these clothes.\n\n

He picks up the suitcase and drops it on the table in front of them.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

(comically)\n

Clean clothes. There is a god,\n\n

Clarence flips open the suitcase. Alabama's and her husband's jaws drop.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Clarence. Those aren't my clothes.\n\n

CUT TO:\n\n\n

EXT. HOLLYWOOD HOLIDAY INN - DAY\n\n

We see the Hollywood Holiday Inn sign. Pan to the parking lot where Clarence's empty red Mustang is parked.\n\n\n

INT. HOLLYWOOD HOLIDAY INN - CALRENCE'S ROOM - DAY\n\n

CLOSEUP - Dick's jaw drops. His hand reaches out of shot.\n\n

CLOSEUP - The reason for all the jaw dropping... the suitcase is full of cocaine!\n\n

Clarence smiles, holding a bottle of wine.\n\n

Alabama's watching the cable TV.\n\n

DICK\n

Holy Mary, Mother of God.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

This is great, we got cable.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

(to Alabama)\n

Bama, you got your blade?\n\n

Keeping her eyes on the TV, she pulls out from her purse a Swiss army knife with a tiny dinosaur on it and tosses it to Clarence. Clarence takes off the corkscrew and opens the wine.\n\n

He pours some wine into a couple of hotel plastic cups, a big glass for Dick, a little one for himself. He hands it to Dick. Dick takes it and drinks.\n\n

DICK\n

This shit can't be real.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

It'll get ya high.\n\n

He tosses the knife.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Do you want some wine, sweetheart?\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Nope. I'm not really a wine gal.\n\n

Using the knife, Dick snorts some of the cocaine. He jumps back.\n\n

DICK\n

It's fuckin' real!\n

(to Clarence)\n

It's fuckin' real!\n\n

CLARENCE\n

I certainly hope so.\n\n

DICK\n

You've got a helluva lotta coke there, man!\n\n

CLARENCE\n

I know.\n\n

DICK\n

Do you have any idea how much fuckin' coke you got?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Tell me.\n\n

DICK\n

I don't know! A fuckin' lot!\n\n

He downs his wine. Clarence fills his glass.\n\n

DICK\n

This is Drexl's coke?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Drexl's dead. This is Clarence's coke and Clarence can do whatever he wants \nwith it. And what Clarence wants to do is sell it. Then me and Bama are \ngonna leave on a jet plane and spend the rest of our lives spendin'. So, \nyou got my letter, have you lined up any buyers?\n\n

DICK\n

Look, Clarence, I'm not Joe Cocaine.\n\n

Dick gulps half of his wine. Clarence fills up.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

But you're an actor. I hear these Hollywood guys have it delivered to the \nset.\n\n

DICK\n

Yeah, they do. And maybe when I start being a successful actor I'll know \nthose guys. But most of the people I know are like me. They ain't got a pot \nto piss in or a window to throw it out of. Now, if you want to sell a \nlittle bit at a time -\n\n

CLARENCE\n

No way! The whole enchilada in one shot.\n\n

DICK\n

Do you have any idea how difficult that's gonna be?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

I'm offering a half a million dollars worth of white for two hundred \nthousand. How difficult can that be?\n\n

DICK\n

It's difficult because you're sellin' it to a particular group. Big shots. \nFat cats. Guys who can use that kind of quantity. Guys who can afford two \nhundred thousand. Basically, guys I don't know. You don't know. And, more \nimportant, they don't know you. I did talk with one guy who could possibly \nhelp you.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Is he big league?\n\n

DICK\n

He's nothing. He's in my acting class. But he works as an assistant to a \nvery powerful movie producer named Lee Donowitz. I thought Donowitz could \nbe interested in a deal like this. He could use it. He could afford it.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

What'd'ya tell 'em?\n\n

DICK\n

Hardly anything. I wasn't sure from your letter what was bullshit, and what \nwasn't.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

What's this acting class guy's name?\n\n

DICK\n

Elliot.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Elliot what?\n\n

DICK\n

Elliot Blitzer.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

OK, call 'im up and arrange a meeting, so we can get through all the \ngetting to know you stuff.\n\n

DICK\n

Where?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

(to Alabama)\n

The zoo.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

(to Dick)\n

The zoo.\n

(pause)\n

What are you waiting for?\n\n

DICK\n

Would you just shut up a minute and let me think?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

What's to think about?\n\n

DICK\n

Shut up! First you come waltzing into my life after two years. You're \nmarried. You killed a guy.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Two guys.\n\n

DICK\n

Two guys. Now you want me to help you with some big drug deal. Fuck, \nClarence, you killed somebody and you're blowin' it off like it don't mean \nshit.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Don't expect me to be all broken up over poor Drexl. I think he was a \nfuckin', freeloadin', parasitic scumbag, and he got exactly what he \ndeserved. I got no pity for a mad dog like that. I think I should get a \nmerit badge or somethin'.\n\n

Dick rests his head in his hands.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Look, buddy, I realize I'm layin' some pretty heavy shit on ya, but I need \nyou to rise to the occasion. So, drink some more wine. Get used to the \nidea, and get your friend to the phone.\n\n\n

EXT. LOS ANGELES ZOO - DAY\n\n

CLOSEUP - A black panther, the four-legged kind, paces back and forth.\n\n

Clarence, Alabama, Dick and Elliot Blitzer are walking through the zoo. One look at Elliot and you can see what type of actor he is, a real GQ, blow-dry boy. As they walk and talk, Clarence is eating a box of animal crackers and Alabama is blowing soap bubbles.\n\n

ELLIOT\n

So you guys got five hundred thousand dollars worth of cola that you're \nunloading -\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Want an animal cracker?\n\n

ELLIOT\n

Yeah, OK.\n\n

He takes one.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Leave the gorillas.\n\n

ELLIOT\n

- that you're unloading for two hundred thousand dollars -\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Unloading? That's a helluva way to describe the bargain of a lifetime.\n\n

DICK\n

(trying to chill him out)\n

Clarence...\n\n

ELLIOT\n

Where did you get it?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

I grow it on my window-sill. The lights really great there and I'm up high \nenough so you can't see it from the street.\n\n

ELLIOT\n

(forcing a laugh)\n

Ha ha ha. No really, where does it come from?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Coco leaves. You see, they take the leaves and mash it down until it's kind \nof a paste -\n\n

ELLIOT\n

(turning to Dick)\n

Look, Dick, I don't -\n\n

CLARENCE\n

(laughing)\n

No problem, Elliot. I'm just fuckin' wit ya, that's all. Actually, I'll \ntell you but you gotta keep it quiet. Understand, if Dick didn't assure me \nyou're good people I'd just tell ya, none of your fuckin' business. But, as \na sign of good faith, here it goes: I gotta friend in the department.\n\n

ELLIOT\n

What department?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

What do you think, eightball?\n\n

ELLIOT\n

The police department?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Duh. What else would I be talking about? Now stop askin' stupid doorknob \nquestions. Well, a year and a half ago, this friend of mine got access to \nthe evidence room for an hour. He snagged this coke. But, he's a good cop \nwith a wife and a kid, so he sat on it for a year and a half until he found \na guy he could trust.\n\n

ELLIOT\n

He trusts you?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

We were in Four H together. We've known each other since childhood. So, I'm \nhandling the sales part. He's my silent partner and he knows if I get \nfucked up, I won't drop dime on him. I didn't tell you nothin' and you \ndidn't hear nothin'.\n\n

ELLIOT\n

Sure. I didn't hear anything.\n\n

Elliot is more than satisfied. Clarence makes a comical face at Dick when Elliot's not looking. Dick is wearing I-don't-believe-this-guy expresion. Alabama is forever blowing bubbles.\n\n

CUT TO:\n\n\n

EXT. LOS ANGELES ZOO - SNACK BAR - DAY\n\n

We're in the snack bar area of the zoo. Alabama, Dick, and Elliot are sitting around a plastic outdoor table. Clarence is pacing around the table as he talks. Alabama is still blowing bubbles.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

(to Elliot)\n

Do I look like a beautiful blond with big tits and an ass that tastes like \nFrench vanilla ice-cream?\n\n

Elliot hasn't the slightest idea what that is supposed to mean.\n\n

ELLIOT\n

What?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Do I look like a beautiful blond with big tits and an ass that tastes like \nFrench vanilla ice-cream?\n\n

ELLIOT\n

(with conviction)\n

No. No, you don't.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Then why are you telling me all this bullshit just so you can fuck me?\n\n

DICK\n

Clarence...\n\n

CLARENCE\n

(to Dick)\n

Let me handle this.\n\n

ELLIOT\n

Get it straight, Lee isn't into taking risks. He deals with a couple of \nguys, and he's been dealing with them for years. They're reliable. They're \ndependable. And, they're safe.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Riddle me this, Batman. If you're all so much in love with each other, what \nthe fuck are you doing here? I'm sure you got better things to do with your \ntime than walk around in circles starin' up a panther's ass. Your guy's \ninterested because with that much shit at his fingertips he can play Joe \nfuckin' Hollywood till the wheels come off. He can sell it, he can snort \nit, he can play Santa Claus with it. At the price he's payin', he'll be \neverybody's best friend. And, you know, that's what we're talkin' about \nhere. I'm not puttin' him down. Hey, let him run wild. Have a ball, it's \nhis money. But, don't expect me to hang around forever waitin' for you guys \nto grow some guts.\n\n

Elliot has been silenced. He nods his head in agreement.\n\n\n

INT. PORSCHE - MOVING - MULHOLLAND DRIVE - DAY\n\n

Movie producer, Lee Donowitz, is driving his Porsche through the winding Hollywood hills, just enjoying being rich and powerful. His cellular car phone rings, he answers.\n\n

LEE\n

Hello.\n

(pause)\n

Elliot, it's Sunday. Why am I talkin' to you on Sunday? I don't see enough \nof you during the week I gotta talk to you on Sunday? Why is it you always \ncall me when I'm on the windiest street in L.A.?\n\n\n

BACK TO:\n\n\n

ELLIOT\n\n

Elliot is on the zoo payphone. Clarence is next to him. Dick is next to Clarence. Alabama is next to Dick, blowing bubbles.\n\n

ELLIOT\n

(on phone)\n

I'm with that party you wanted me to get together with. Do you know what \nI'm talking about, Lee?\n\n

BACK TO:\n\n

LEE\n\n

Store-fronts whiz by in the background.\n\n

LEE\n

Why the hell are you calling my phone to talk about that?\n\n

BACK TO:\n\n

ELLIOT\n\n

ELLIOT\n

Well, he'd here right now, and he insists on talking to you.\n\n

BACK TO:\n\n\n

LEE\n\n

In the 7th street tunnel. Lee's voice echoes.\n\n

LEE\n

Are you outta your fuckin' mind?\n\n

BACK TO:\n\n

ELLIOT\n\n

ELLIOT\n

You said if I didn't get you on the -\n\n

Clarence takes the receiverout of Elliot's hand.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

(into phone)\n

Hello, Lee, it's Clarence. At last we meet.\n\n\n

EXT. DICK'S APARTMENT - DAY\n\n

Virgil's knocking on Dick's door. Floyd (Dick's room-mate) answers.\n\n

VIRGIL\n

Hello, is Dick Ritchie here?\n\n

FLOYD\n

Naw, he ain't home right now.\n\n

VIRGIL\n

Do you live here?\n\n

FLOYD\n

Yeah, I live here.\n\n

VIRGIL\n

Sorta room-mates?\n\n

FLOYD\n

Exactly room-mates.\n\n

VIRGIL\n

Maybe you can help me. Actually, who I'm looking for is a friend of ours \nfrom Detroit. Clarence Worley? I heard he was in town. Might be travelling \nwith a pretty girl named Alabama. Have you seen him? Are they stayin' here?\n\n

FLOYD\n

Naw, they ain't stayin' here. But, I know who you're talkin' about. They're \nstayin' at the Hollywood Holiday Inn.\n\n

VIRGIL\n

How do you know? You been there?\n\n

FLOYD\n

No, I ain't been there. But I heard him say. Hollywood Holiday Inn. Kinda \neasy to remember.\n\n

VIRGIL\n

You're right. It is.\n\n\n

EXT. LOS ANGELES ZOO - PAYPHONE - DAY\n\n

Clarence is still on the phone with Lee.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Lee, the reason I'm talkin' with you is I want to open \"Doctor Zhivago\" in \nL.A. And I want you to distribute it.\n\n

BACK TO:\n\n\n

LEE\n\n

Stopped in the traffic on Sunset Boulevard.\n\n

LEE\n

I don't know, Clarence, \"Doctor Zhivago\" is a pretty big movie.\n\n

BACK TO:\n\n

CLARENCE\n

The biggest. The biggest movie you've ever dealt with, Lee. We're talkin' a \nlot of film. A man'd have ta be an idiot not to be a little cautious about \na movie like that. And Lee, you're no idiot.\n\n

BACK TO:\n\n\n

LEE\n\n

He's still on Sunset Boulevard, the traffic's moving better now.\n\n

LEE\n

I'm not sayin' I'm not interested. But being a distributer's not what I'm \nall about. I'm a film producer, I'm on this world to make good movies. \nNothing more. Now, having my big toe dipped into the distribution end helps \nme on many levels.\n\n

Traffic breaks and Lee speeds along. The background whizzes past him.\n\n

LEE\n

(continuing)\n

But the bottom line is: I'm not Paramount. I have a select group of \ndistributers I deal with. I buy their little movies. Accomplish what I \nwanna accomplish, end of story. Easy, business-like, very little risk.\n\n

BACK TO:\n\n

CLARENCE\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Now that's bullshit, Lee. Every time you buy one of those little movies \nit's a risk. I'm not sellin' you something that's gonna play two weeks, six \nweeks, then go straight to cable. This is \"Doctor Zhivago\". This'll be \npackin' 'em in for a year and a half. Two years! That's two years you don't \nhave to work with anybody's movie but mine.\n\n

BACK TO:\n\n\n

LEE\n\n

Speeding down a benchside road.\n\n

LEE\n

Well, then, what's the hurry? Is it true the rights to \"Doctor Zhivago\" are \nin arbitration?\n\n

BACK TO:\n\n\n

CLARENCE\n

I wanna be able to announce this deal at Cannes. If I had time for a \ncourtship, Lee, I would. I'd take ya out, I'd hold your hand, I'd kiss you \non the cheek at the door. But, I'm not in that position. I need to know if \nwe're in bed together, or not. If you want my movie, Lee, you're just gonna \nhave to come to terms with your Fear and Desire.\n\n

Pause. Clarence hands the phone to Elliot.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

(to Elliot)\n

He wants to talk ya.\n\n

ELLIOT\n

(into phone)\n

Mr. Donowitz?\n

(pause)\n

I told you, through Dick.\n

(pause)\n

He's in my acting class.\n

(pause)\n

About a year.\n

(pause)\n

Yeah, he's good.\n

(pause)\n

They grew up together.\n

(pause)\n

Sure thing.\n\n

Elliot hangs up the phone.\n\n

ELLIOT\n

He says Wednesday at three o'clock at the Beverly Wilshire. He wants \neverybody there.\n

(pointing to Clarence)\n

He'll talk to you. If after talkin' to you he's convinced you're OK, he'll \ndo business. If not, he'll say fuck it and walk out the door. He also wants \na sample bag.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

No problems on both counts.\n\n

He offers Elliot the animal crackers.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Have a cookie.\n\n

Elliot takes one.\n\n

ELLIOT\n

Thanks.\n\n

He puts it in the mouth.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

That wasn't a gorilla, was it?\n\n\n

EXT. HOLIDAY INN - DAY\n\n

The red Mustang with Clarence and Alabama pulls up to the hotel. Alabama hops out. Clarence stays in.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

You did it, Quickdraw. I'm so proud of you. You were like a ninja. Did I do \nmy part OK?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Babalouey, you were perfect, I could hardly keep from busting up.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

I felt so stupid just blowing those bubbles.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

You were chillin', kind of creepy even. You totally fucked with his head. \nI'm gonna go grab dinner.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

I'm gonna hop in the tub and get all wet, and slippery, and soapy. Then I'm \ngonna lie in the waterbed, not even both to dry off, and watch X-rated \nmovies till you get your ass back to my lovin' arms.\n\n

They kiss.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

We now return to \"Bullit\" already in progress.\n\n

He slams the Mustang in reverse and peels out of the hotel. Alabama walks her little walk from the parking lot to the pool area. Somebody whistles at her, she turns to them.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Thank you.\n\n

She gets to her door, takes out the key, and opens the door.\n\n\n

INT. HOLLYWOOD HOLIDAY INN - CALRENCE'S ROOM - DAY\n\n

She steps in only to find Virgil sitting on a chair placed in front of the door with a sawed-off shotgun aimed right at her.\n\n

VIRGIL\n

(calmly)\n

Step inside and shut the door.\n\n

She doesn't move, she's frozen. Virgil leans forward.\n\n

VIRGIL\n

(calmly)\n

Lady. I'm gonna shoot you in the face.\n\n

She does exactly as he says. Virgil rises, still aiming the sawed-off.\n\n

VIRGIL\n

Step away from the door, move into the bathroom.\n\n

She does. He puts the shotgun down on the chair, then steps closer to her.\n\n

VIRGIL\n

OK, Alabama, where's our coke, where's Clarence, and when's he coming back.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

I think you got the wrong room, my name is Sadie. I don't have any Coke, \nbut there's a Pepsi machine downstairs. I don't know any Clarence, but \nmaybe my husband does. You might have heard of him, he plays football. Al \nLylezado. He'll be home any minute, you can ask him.\n\n

Virgil can't help but smile.\n\n

VIRGIL\n

You're cute.\n\n

Virgil jumps up and does a mid-air kung fu kick which catches Alabama square in the face, lifting her off the ground and dropping her flat on her back.\n\n\n

INT. MOVING RED MUSTANG - DAY\n\n

Clarence, in his car, driving to get something to eat, singing to himself.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

(singing)\n

\"Land of stardust, land of glamour,\nVistavision and Cinema,\nEverything about it is a must,\nTo get to Hollywood, or bust...\"\n\n\n

INT. HOLLYWOOD HOLIDAY INN - CLARENCE'S ROOM - DAY\n\n

Alabama's laying flat. She actually blacks out for a moment, but the salty taste of the blood in her mouth wakes her up. She opens her eyes and sees Virgil standing there, smiling. She closes them, hoping it's a dream. They open again to the same sight. She has never felt more helpless in her life.\n\n

VIRGIL\n

Hurts, don't it? It better. Took me a long time to kick like that. I'm \nthird-degree blackbelt, you know? At home I got trophies. Tournaments I was \nin. Kicked all kinds of ass. I got great technique. You ain't hurt that \nbad. Get on your feet, Fruitloop.\n\n

Alabama wobbily complies.\n\n

VIRGIL\n

Where's our coke? Where's Clarence? And when he's comin' back?\n\n

Alabama looks in Virgil's eyes and realizes that without a doubt she's going to die, because this man is going to kill her.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Go take a flying fuck and a rolling donut.\n\n

Virgil doesn't waste a second. He gives her a sidekick straight to the stomach. The air is sucked out of her lungs. She falls to her knees. She's on all fours gasping for air that's just not there.\n\n

Virgil whips out a pack of Lucky Strikes. He lights one up with a Zippo lighter. He takes a long, deep drag.\n\n

VIRGIL\n

Whatsamatta? Can't breathe? Get used to it.\n\n\n

INT. HAMBURGER STAND - DAY\n\n

Clarence walks through the door of some mom and pop fast-food restaurant.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Woah! Smells like hamburgers in here! What's the biggest, fattest hamburger \nyou guys got?\n\n

The Iranian Guy at the counter says:\n\n

IRANIAN GUY\n

That would be Steve's double chili cheeseburger.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Well, I want two of them bad boys. Two large orders of chili fries. Two \nlarge Diet Cokes.\n

(looking at a menu at the wall)\n

And I'll tell you what, why don't you give me a combination burrito as \nwell.\n\n\n

INT. HOLLYWOOD HOLIDAY INN - CLARENCE'S ROOM - DAY\n\n

Alabama is violently thrown into a corner of the room. She braces herself against the wall. She is very punchy. Virgil steps in front of her.\n\n

VIRGIL\n

You think your boyfriend would go through this kind of shit for you? Dream \non, cunt. You're nothin' but a fuckin' fool. And your pretty face is gonna \nturn awful goddamn ugly in about two seconds. Now, where's my fuckin' coke?\n\n

She doesn't answer. He delivers a spinning roundhouse kick on the head. Her head slams into the left side of the wall.\n\n

VIRGIL\n

Where's Clarence?!\n\n

Nothing. He gives her another kick to the head, this time from the other side. Her legs start to give way. He catches her and throws her back. He slaps her lightly in the face to revive her, she looks at him.\n\n

VIRGIL\n

When's Clarence getting back?\n\n

She can barely raise her arm, but she somehow manages, and she gives him the middle finger. Virgil can't help but smile.\n\n

VIRGIL\n

You gotta lot of heart, kid.\n\n

He gives her a spinning roadhouse kick to the head that sends her to the floor.\n\n\n

INT. HAMBURGER STAND - DAY\n\n

CLOSEUP - Burgers sizzling on a griddle, Chili and cheese is put on them.\n\n

Clarence is waiting for his order. He notices a CUSTOMER reading a copy of \"Newsweek\" with Elvis on the cover.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

That's a great issue.\n\n

The Customer lowers his magazine a little bit.\n\n

CUSTOMER\n

Yeah, I subscribe. It's a pretty decent one.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Have you read the story on Elvis?\n\n

CUSTOMER\n

No. Not yet.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

You know, I saw it on the stands, my first inclination was to buy it. But, \nI look at the price and say forget it, it's just gonna be the same old \nshit. I ended up breaking down and buying it a few days later. Man, I was \never wrong.\n\n

CUSTOMER\n

That good, huh?\n\n

He takes the magazine from the Customer's hands and starts flipping to the Elvis article.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

It tried to pin down what the attraction is after all these years. It \ncovers the whole spectrum of fans, the people who love his music, the \npeople who grew up with him, the artists he inspired - Bob Dylan, Bruce \nSpringsteen, and the fanatics, like these guys. I don't know about you, but \nthey give me the creeps.\n\n

CUSTOMER\n

I can see what you mean.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Like, look at her. She looks like she fell off an ugly tree and hit every \nbranch on the way down. Elvis wouldn't fuck her with Pat Boone's dick.\n\n

Clarence and the Customer laugh.\n\n\n

INT. HOLLYWOOD HOLIDAY INN - CLARENCE'S ROOM - DAY\n\n

Alabama's pretty beat up. She has a fat lip and her face is black and blue. She's crawling around on the floor. Virgil is tearing the place apart looking for the cocaine. He's also carrying on a running commentary.\n\n

VIRGIL\n

Now the first guy you kill is always the hardest. I don't care if you're \nthe Boston Strangler or Wyatt Earp. You can bet that Texas boy, Charles \nWhitman, the fella who shot all them guys from that tower, I'll bet you \ngreen money that that first little black dot that he took a bead on, was \nthe bitch of the bunch. No foolin' the first one's a tough row to hoe. Now, \nthe second one, while it ain't no Mardi Gras, it ain't half as tough row to \nhoe. You still feel somethin' but it's just so deluted this time around. \nThen you completely level off on the third one. The third one's easy. It's \ngotten to the point now I'll do it just to watch their expressions change.\n\n

He's tearing the motel room up in general. Then he flips the matress up off the bed, and the black suitcase is right there.\n\n

Alabama's crawling, unnoticed to where her purse is lying. Virgil flips open the black case and almost goes snow blind.\n\n

VIRGIL\n

Well, well, well, looky here. I guess I just reached journey's end. Great. \nOne less thing I gotta worry about.\n\n

Virgil closes the case. Alabama sifts through her purse.\n\n

She pulls out her Swiss army knife, opens it up. Virgil turns toward her.\n\n

VIRGIL\n

OK, Sugarpop, we've come to what I like to call the moment of truth -\n\n

Alabama slowly rises clutching the thrust-out knife in both hands. Mr. Karate-man smiles.\n\n

VIRGIL\n

Kid, you got a lotta heart.\n\n

He moves toward her.\n\n

Alabama's hands are shaking.\n\n

VIRGIL\n

Tell you what I'm gonna do. I'm gonna give you a free swing. Now, I only do \nthat for people I like.\n\n

He moves close.\n\n

Alabama's eyes study him. He grabs the front of his shirt and rips it open. Buttons fly everywhere.\n\n

VIRGIL\n

Go ahead, girl, take a stab at it.\n

(giggling)\n

You don't have anything to lose.\n\n

CLOSEUP - Alabama's face. Virgil's right, she doesn't have anything to lose. Virgil's also right about his being the moment of truth. The ferocity in women that comes out at certain times, and is just here under the surface in many women all of the time, is unleashed. The absolute feeling of helplessness she felt only a moment ago has taken a one hundred and eighty degree turn into \"I'll take this motherfucker with me if it's the last thing I do\" seething hatred.\n\n

Letting out a bloodcurling yell, she raises the knfe high above her head, then drops to her knees and plunges it deep into Virgil's right foot.\n\n\n

CLOSEUP - VIRGIL'S FACE\n\n

Talk about bloodcurling yells.\n\n

Virgil bends down and carefully pulls the knife from his foot, tears running down his face.\n\n

While Virgil's bent down, Alabama smashes an Elvis Presley whiskey decanter that Clarence bought her in Oklahoma over his head. It's only made of plaster, so it doesn't kill him.\n\n

Virgil's moving toward Alabama, limping on his bad foot.\n\n

VIRGIL\n

OK, no more Mr. Nice-guy.\n\n

Alabama picks up the hotel TV and tosses it to him. He instinctively catches it and, with his arms full of television, Alabama cold-cocks him with her fist in the nose, breaking it.\n\n

Her eyes go straight to the door, then to the sawed-off shotgun by it. She runs to it, bends over the chair for the gun. Virgil's left foot kicks her in the back, sending her flying over the chair and smashing into the door.\n\n

Virgil furiously throws the chair out of the way and stands over Alabama. Alabama's lying on the ground laughing. Virgil has killed a lot of people, but not one of them has ever laughed before he did it.\n\n

VIRGIL\n

What's so fuckin' funny?!!\n\n

ALABAMA\n

(laughing)\n

You look so ridiculous.\n\n

She laughs louder. Virgil's insane. He picks her off the floor, then lifts her off the ground and throws her through the glass shower door in the bathroom.\n\n

VIRGIL\n

Laugh it up, cunt. You were in hysterics a minute ago. Why ain't you \nlaughing now?\n\n

Alabama, lying in the bathtub, grabs a small bottle of hotel shampoo and squeezes it out in her hand.\n\n

Virgil reaches in the shower and grabs hold of her hair.\n\n

Alabama rubs the shampoo in his face. He lets go of her and his hands go to his eyes.\n\n

VIRGIL\n

Oh Jesus!\n\n

She grabs hold of a hefty piece of broken glass and plunges it into his face.\n\n

VIRGIL\n

Oh Mary, help me!\n\n

The battered and bruised and bloody Alabama emerges from the shower. She's clutching a big, bloody piece of broken glass. She's vaguely reminiscent of a Tasmanian devil. Poor Virgil can't see very well, but he sees her figure coming toward him. He lets out a wild haymaker that catches her in the jaw and knocks her into the toilet.\n\n

He recovers almost immediately and takes the porcelain lid off the back of the toilet tank.\n\n

Virgil whips out a .45 automatic from his shoulder holster, just as Alabama brings the lid down on his head. He's pressed up against the wall with this toilet lid hitting him. He can't get a good shot in this tight environment, but he fires anyway, hitting the floor, the all, the toilet, and the sink.\n\n

The toilet lid finally shatters against Virgil's head. He falls to the ground.\n\n

Alabama goes to the medicine cabinet and whips out a big can of Final Net hairspray. She pulls a Bic lighter out of her pocket, and, just as Virgil raises his gun at her, she flicks the Bic and sends a stream of hairspray through the flame, which results in a big ball of fire that hits Virgil right in the face.\n\n

He fires off two shots. One hits the wall, another hits the sink pipe, sending water spraying.\n\n

Upon getting his face fried Virgil screams and jumps up, knocking Alabama down, and runs out of the bathroom.\n\n

Virgil collapses on the floor of the living room. Then, he sees the sawed-off laying on the ground. He crawls toward it.\n\n

Alabama, in the bathroom, sees where he's heading. She picks up the .45 automatic and fires at him. It's empty. She's on her feet and into the room.\n\n

He reaches the shotgun, his hands grasp it.\n\n

Alabama spots and picks up the bloody Swiss army knife. She takes a knife-first-running-dive at Virgil's back. She hits him.\n\n

He arches up, firing the sawed-off into the ceiling, dropping the gun, and sending a cloud of plaster and stucco all over the room.\n\n

Alabama snatches the shotgun.\n\n

Arched over on his back Virgil and Alabama make eye contact.\n\n

The first blast hits him in the shoulder, almost tearing his arm off. The second hits him in the knee. The third plays hell with his chest.\n\n

Alabama then runs at him, hitting him in the head with the butt of the shotgun.\n\n

Ever since he's been firing it's as if some other part of her brain has been functioning independently. She's been absent-mindedly saying the prayer of Saint Francis of Assisi.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Lord, make me an instrument of Thy peace;\nwhere there is hatred, let me sow love;\nwhere there is injury, pardon;\nwhere there is doubt, faith;\nwhere there is despair, hope;\nwhere there is darkness, light;\nand where there is sadness, joy.\nO Divine Master, grant that I may not\nso much seek to be consoled as to console;\nto be understood as to understand;\nto be loved as to love;\nfor it is in giving that we receive,\nit is pardoning that we are pardoned,\nand it is in dying that we are born\nto eternal life.\n\n

Clarence, who's been hearing gunshots, bursts through the door, gun drawn, only to see Alabama, hitting a dead guy on the head, with a shotgun.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Honey?\n\n

She continues. He puts his gun away.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Sweetheart? Cops are gonna be here any minute,\n\n

She continues. He takes the gun away from her, and she falls to the ground. She lies on the floor trembling, continuing with the downward swings of her arms.\n\n

Clarence grabs the shotgun and the cocaine, and tosses Alabama over his shoulder.\n\n

CUT TO:\n\n\n

EXT. HOLLYWOOD HOLIDAY INN - DAY\n\n

Everybody is outside their rooms watching as Clarence walks through the pool area with his bundle. Sirens can be heard.\n\n\n

EXT. MOVING RED MUSTANG - DAY\n\n

Clarence is driving like mad. Alabama's passed out in the passenger seat. She's muttering to herself. Clarence has one hand on the steering wheel and the other strokes Alabama's hair.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Sleep baby. Don't dream. Don't worry. Just sleep. You deserve better than \nthis. I'm so sorry. Sleep my angel. Sleep peacefully.\n\n\n

EXT. MOTEL 6 - NIGHT\n\n

A new motel. Clarence's red Mustang is parked outside.\n\n\n

INT. MOTEL 6 - CLARENCE'S ROOM - NIGHT\n\n

Alabama, with a fat lip and a black and blue face, is asleep in bed.\n\n\n

INT. NOWHERE\n\n

Clarence is in a nondescript room speaking directly to the camera. He's in a headshot.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

I feel so horrible about what she went through. That fucker really beat the \nshit out of her. She never told him where I was. It's like I always felt \nthat the way she felt about me was a mistake. She couldn't really care that \nmuch. I always felt in the back of my mind, I don't know, she was jokin'. \nBut, to go through that and remain loyal, it's very easy to be unraptured \nwith words, but to remain loyal when it's easier, even excusable, not to - \nthat's a test of oneself. That's a true romance. I swear to God, I'll cut \noff my hands and gouge out my eyes before I'll every let anything happen to \nthat lady again.\n\n

CUT TO:\n\n\n

EXT. HOLLYWOOD HILLS - NIGHT\n\n

A wonderful, gracefully flowing shot of the Hollywood Hills. Off in the distance we hear the roar of a car engine.\n\n\n

EXT. MULLHOLLAND DRIVE - NIGHT\n\n

Vaaarrroooooommmm!!! A silver Porsche is driving hells bells, taking quick corners, pushing it to the edge.\n\n\n

INT. MOVING PORSCHE - NIGHT\n\n

Elliot Blitzer is the driver, standing on it. A blond, glitzy Coke Whore is sitting next to him. They're having a ball. Then they're seeing a red and blue light flashing in the rear-view window. It's the cops.\n\n

ELLIOT\n

Fuck! I knew it! I fucking knew it! I should have my head examined, driving \nlike this!\n

(he pulls over)\n

Kandi, you gotta help me.\n\n

KANDI\n

What can I do?\n\n

He pulls out the sample bag of cocaine that Clarence gave him earlier.\n\n

ELLIOT\n

You gotta hold this for me.\n\n

KANDI\n

You must be high. Uh-huh. No way.\n\n

ELLIOT\n

(frantically)\n

Just put it in your purse.\n\n

KANDI\n

I'm not gonna put that shit in my purse.\n\n

ELLIOT\n

They won't search you. I promise. You haven't done anything.\n\n

KANDI\n

No way, Jos.\n\n

ELLIOT\n

Please, they'll be here any minute. Just put it in your bra.\n\n

KANDI\n

I'm not wearing a bra.\n\n

ELLIOT\n

(pleading)\n

Put it in your pants.\n\n

KANDI\n

No.\n\n

ELLIOT\n

You're the one who wanted to drive fast.\n\n

KANDI\n

Read my lips.\n\n

She mouths the word \"no\".\n\n

ELLIOT\n

After all I've done for you, you fuckin' whore!!\n\n

She goes to slap him, she hits the bag of cocaine instead. It rips open. Cocaine completely covers his blue suit. At that moment Elliot turns to face a flashing beam. Tears fill his eyes.\n\n\n

INT. POLICE STATION - INTERROGATION ROOM - DAY\n\n

Elliot is sitting in a chair at the table. Two young, good-looking, casually dressed, Starsky and Hutch-type POLICE DETECTIVES are questioning him. They're known in the department as Nicholson and Dimes. The dark-haired one is Cody Nicholson, and the blond is Nicky Dimes.\n\n

NICHOLSON\n

Look, sunshine, we found a sandwich bag of uncut cocaine -\n\n

DIMES\n

Not a tiny little vial -\n\n

NICHOLSON\n

But a fuckin' baggie.\n\n

DIMES\n

No don't sit here and feed us some shit.\n\n

NICHOLSON\n

You got caught. It's all fun and fuckin' games till you get caught. But now \nwe gotcha. OK, Mr. Elliot actor, you've just made the big time -\n\n

DIMES\n

You're no longer an extra -\n\n

NICHOLSON\n

Or a bit player -\n\n

DIMES\n

Or a supporting actor -\n\n

NICHOLSON\n

You're a fuckin' star! And you're gonna be playin' your little one-man show \nnightly for the next two fuckin' years for a captive audience -\n\n

DIMES\n

But there is a bright side though. If you ever have to play a part of a guy \nwho gets fucked in the ass on a daily basis by throat-slitting niggers, \nyou'll have so much experience to draw on -\n\n

NICHOLSON\n

And just think, when you get out in a few years, you'll meet some girl, get \nmarried, and you'll be so understanding to your wife's needs, because \nyou'll know what it's like to be a woman.\n\n

DIMES\n

'Course you'll wanna fuck her in the ass. Pussy just won't feed right \nanymore -\n\n

NICHOLSON\n

That is, of course, if you don't catch Aids from all your anal intrusions.\n\n

Elliot starts crying. Nicholson and Dimes exchange looks and smile. Mission accomplished.\n\n\n

INT. POLICE STATION - CAPTAIN KRINKLE'S OFFICE - DAY\n\n

CAPTAIN BUFFORD KRINKLE is sitting behind his desk, where he spends about seventy-five percent of his day. He's you standard rough, gruff, no-nonsense, by-the-book-type police captain.\n\n

KRINKLE\n

Nicholson! Dimes! Het in here!\n\n

The two casually dressed, sneaker-wearing cops rush in, both shouting at once.\n\n\n

DIMES\n

Krinkle, this is it. We got it, man. And it's all ours. I mean talk about \nfallin' into somethin'. You shoulda seen it, it was beautiful. Dimes is \nhittin' him from the left about being fucked in the ass by niggers, I'm \nhittin' him form the right about not likin' pussy anymore, finally he \nstarts cryin', and then it was all over -\n\n

NICHOLSON\n

Krinkle, you're lookin' at the two future cops of the month. We have it, \nand if I say we, I don't mean me and him, I'm referring to the whole \ndepartment. Haven't had a decent bust this whole month. Well, we mighta \ncome in like a lamb, but we're goin' out like a lion -\n\n

KRINKLE\n

Both you, idiots shut up, I can't understand shit! Now, what's happened, \nwhat's going on, and what are you talking about?\n\n

DIMES\n

Okee-dokee. It's like this, Krinkle; a patrol car stops this dork for \nspeeding, they walk up to window and the guy's covered in coke. So they \nbring his ass in and me an' Nicholson go to work on him.\n\n

NICHOLSON\n

Nicholson and I.\n\n

DIMES\n

Nicholson and I go to work on him. Now er know somthing's rotten in \nDenmark, 'cause this dickhead had a big bag, and it's uncut, too, so we're \nsweatin' him, trying to find out where he got it. Scarin' the shit outta \nhim.\n\n

NICHOLSON\n

Which wasn't too hard, the guy was a real squid.\n\n

DIMES\n

So we got this guy scared shitless and he starts talkin'. And, Krinkle, you \nain't gonna fuckin' believe it.\n\n

CUT TO:\n\n\n

INT. RESTAURANT - DAY\n\n

Detroit. Very fancy restaurant. Four wise-guy Hoods, one older, the other three, youngsters, are seated at the table with Mr. Coccotti.\n\n

COCCOTTI\n

- And so, tomorrow morning comes, and no Virgil. I check with Nick \nCardella, who Virgil was supposed to leave my narcotics with, he never \nshows. Now, children, somebody is stickin' a red-hot poker up my asshole \nand what I don't know is whose hand's on the handle.\n\n

YOUNG WISE-GUY #1 (FRANKIE)\n

You think Virgil started gettin' big ideas?\n\n

COCCOTTI\n

It's possible. Anybody can be carried away with delusions of grandeur. But \nafter that incident in Ann Arbor, I trust Virgil.\n\n

YOUNG WISE-GUY #2 (DARIO)\n

What happened?\n\n

OLD WISE-GUY(LENNY)\n

Virgil got picked up in a warehouse shakedown. He got five years, he served \nthree.\n\n

COCCOTTI\n

Anybody who clams up and does hid time, I don't care how I feel about him \npersonally, he's OK.\n\n

BACK TO:\n\n\n

KRINKLE'S OFFICE\n\n

NICHOLSON\n

It seems a cop from some department, we don't know where, stole a half a \nmillion dollars of coke from the property cage and he's been sittin' on it \nfor a year and a half. Now the cops got this weirdo -\n\n

DIMES\n

Suspect's words -\n\n

NICHOLSON\n

To front for him. So Elliot is workin' out the deal between them and his \nboss, a big movie producer named Lee Donowitz.\n\n

DIMES\n

He produced \"Coming Home in a Body Bag\".\n\n

KRINKLE\n

That Vietnam movie?\n\n

DIMES\n

Uh-huh.\n\n

KRINKLE\n

That was a good fuckin' movie.\n\n

DIMES\n

Sure was.\n\n

KRINKLE\n

Do you believe him?\n\n

DIMES\n

I believe he believes him.\n\n

NICHOLSON\n

He's so spooked he'd turn over his momma, his daddy, his two-panny granny, \nand Anna and the King of Siam if he had anything on him.\n\n

DIMES\n

This rabbit'll do anything not to do time, including wearing a wire.\n\n

KRINKLE\n

He'll wear a wire?\n\n

DIMES\n

We talked him into it.\n\n

KRINKLE\n

Dirty cops. We'll have to bring in internal affairs on this.\n\n

DIMES\n

Look, we don't care if you bring in the state milita, the volunteer fire \ndepartment, the L.A. Thunderbirds, the ghost of Steve McQueen, and the \ntwelve Roman gladiators, so long as we get credit for the bust.\n\n

NICHOLSON\n

Cocaine. Dirty cops. Hollywood. This is Crocket and Tubbs all the way. And \nwe found it, so we want the fuckin' collar.\n\n

BACK TO:\n\n\n

INT. RESTAURANT - DAY\n\n

YOUNG WISE-GUY #3 (MARVIN)\n

Maybe Virgil dropped it off at Cardella's. Cardella turns Virgil's switch \noff, and Cardella decides to open up his own fruit stand.\n\n

LENNY\n

Excuse me, Mr. Coccotti.\n

(to Marvin)\n

Do you know Nick Cardella?\n\n

MARVIN\n

No.\n\n

LENNY\n

Then where the hell do you get off talkin' that kind of talk?\n\n

MARVIN\n

I didn't mean -\n\n

LENNY\n

Shut your mouth. Nick Cardella was provin' what his words was worth before \nyou were in your daddy's nutsack. What sun do you walk under you can throw \na shadow on Nick Cardella? Nick Cardella's a stand-up guy.\n\n

COCCOTTI\n

Children, we're digressing. Another possibility is that rat-fuck whore and \nher wack-a-doo cowboy boyfriend out-aped Virgil. Knowing Virgil, I find \nthat hard to believe. But they sent Drexl to hell, and Drexl was no faggot. \nSo you see, children, I got a lot of questions and no answers. Find out who \nthis wing-and-a-prayer artist is and take him off at the neck.\n\n

TITLE CARD: \"THE BIG DAY\"\n\n\n

EXT. IMPERIAL HIGHWAY - SUNRISE\n\n

Clarence's red Mustang is parked on top of a hill just off of Imperial Highway. As luck would have it, somebody has abandoned a ratty old sofa on the side of the road. Clarence and Alabama sit on the sofa, sharing a Jumbo Java, and enjoying the sunrise and wonderful view of the LAX Airport runways, where planes are taking off and landing. A plane takes off, and they stop and watch.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Ya know, I used to fuckin' hate airports.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Really?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

With a vengeance, I hated them.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

How come?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

I used to live by one back in Dearborn. It's real frustratin' to be \nsurrounded by airplanes when you ain't got shit. I hated where I was, but I \ncouldn't do anythin' about it. I didn't have enough money. It was tough \nenough just tryin' to pay my rent every month, an' here I was livin' next \nto an airport. Whenever I went outside, I saw fuckin' planes take off \ndrownin' out my show. All day long I'm seein', hearin' people doin' what I \nwanted to do most, but couldn't.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

What?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Leavin' Detroit. Goin' off on vacations, startin' new lives, business \ntrips. Fun, fun, fun, fun.\n\n

Another plane takes off.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

But knowin' me and you gonna be nigger-rich gives me a whole new outlook. I \nlove airports now. Me 'n' you can get on any one of those planes out there, \nand go anywhere we ant.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

You ain't kiddin', we got lives to start over, we should go somewhere where \nwe can really start from scatch.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

I been in America all my life. I'm due for a change. I wanna see what TV in \nother countries is like. Besides, it's more dramatic. Where should we fly \noff to, my little turtledove?\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Cancoon.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Why Cancoon?\n\n

ALABAMA\n

It's got a nice ring to it. It sounds like a movie. \"Clarence and Alabama \nGo to Cancoon\". Don't 'cha think?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

But in my movie, baby, you get the top billing.\n\n

They kiss.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Don't you worry 'bout anything. It's all gonna work out for us. We deserve \nit.\n\n\n

INT. DICK'S APARTMENT - DAY\n\n

Dick, Clarence and Alabama are just getting ready to leave for the drug deal. Floyd lays on the couch watching TV. Alabama's wearing dark glasses because of the black eye she has.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

(to Floyd)\n

You sure that's how you get to the Beverly Wilshire?\n\n

FLOYD\n

I've partied there twice. Yeah, I'm sure.\n\n

DICK\n

Yeah, well if we got lost, it's your ass.\n

(to Clarence)\n

Come on, Clarence, lets go. Elliot's going to meet us in the lobby.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

I'm just makin' sure we got everything.\n

(pointing to Alabama)\n

You got yours?\n\n

She holds up the suitcase. The phone rings. The three pile out the door. Floyd picks up the phone.\n\n

FLOYD\n

Hello?\n\n

He puts his hand over the receiver.\n\n

FLOYD\n

Dick, it's for you. You here?\n\n

DICK\n

No. I left.\n\n

He starts to close the door then opens it again.\n\n

DICK\n

I'll take it.\n

(he takes the receiver)\n

Hello.\n

(pause)\n

Hi, Catherine, I was just walkin' out the -\n

(pause)\n

Really?\n

(pause)\n

I don't believe it.\n

(pause)\n

She really said that?\n

(pause)\n

I'll be by first thing.\n

(pause)\n

No, thank you for sending me out.\n

(pause)\n

Bye-bye.\n\n

He hangs up and looks to Clarence.\n\n

DICK\n

(stunned)\n

I got the part on \"T.J. Hooker\".\n\n

CLARENCE\n

No shit? Dick, that's great!\n\n

Clarence and Alabama are jumping around. Floyd even smiles.\n\n

DICK\n

(still stunned)\n

They didn't even want a callback. They just hired me like that. Me and \nPeter Breck are the two heavies. We start shooting Monday. My call is for \nseven o'clock in the morning.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Ah, Dick, let's talk about it in the car. We can't be late.\n\n

Dick looks at Clarence. He doesn't want to go.\n\n

DICK\n

Clarence.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Yeah?\n\n

DICK\n

Um, nothing, let's go?\n\n

They exit.\n\n\n

EXT. LAX AIRPORT - HOTEL - DAY\n\n

We see the airport and move in closer on a hotel on a landscape.\n\n\n

INT. LAX AIRPORT - HOTEL ROOM - DAY\n\n

Lenny can be seen putting a shotgun together. He is sitting on a bed.\n\n

Dario enters the frame with his own shotgun. He goes over to Lenny and gives him some shells.\n\n

Marvin walks through the frame cocking his own shotgun.\n\n

The bathroom door opens behind Lenny and Frankie walks out twirling a couple of .45 automatics in his hands.\n\n\n

INT. BEVERLY WILSHIRE - COP S' HOTEL ROOM - DAY\n\n

Nicholson and Dimes and FOUR DETECTIVES from internal affairs are in a room on the same floor as Donowitz. They have just put a wire on Elliot.\n\n

DIMES\n

OK, say something.\n\n

ELLIOT\n

(talking loud into the wire)\n

Hello! Hello! Hello! How now brown cow!\n\n

NICHOLSON\n

Just talk regular.\n\n

ELLIOT\n

(normal tone)\n

\"But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?\nIt is the east and Juliet is the sun.\nArise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon,\nWho is already sick and pale with grief -\"\n\n

DIMES\n

Are you gettin' this shit?\n\n

DETECTIVE BY TAPE MACHINE\nClear as a bell.\n\n

Nicholson, Dime, and the head IA Officer, Wurlitzer, huddle by Elliot.\n\n

DIMES\n

Now, remember, we'll be monitoring just down the hall.\n\n

ELLIOT\n

And if there's any sign of trouble you'll come in.\n\n

NICHOLSON\n

Like gang-busters. Now, remember, if you don't want to go to jail, we gotta \nput your boss in jail.\n\n

DIMES\n

We have to show in court that, without a doubt, a successful man, an important figure in the Hollywood community, is also dealing cocaine.\n\n

NICHOLSON\n

So you gotta get him to admit on tape that he's buying this coke.\n\n

WURLITZER\n

And this fellow Clarence?\n\n

ELLIOT\n

Yeah, Clarence.\n\n

WURLITZER\n

You gotta get him name the police officer behind all this.\n\n

ELLIOT\n

I'll try.\n\n

DIMES\n

You do more than try.\n\n

NICHOLSON\n

You do.\n\n

DIMES\n

Hope you're a good actor, Elliot.\n\n\n

INT. MOVING RED MUSTANG - DAY\n\n

Clarence, Dick and Alabama en route.\n\n

DICK\n

You got that playing basketball?\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Yeah. I got elbowed right in the eye. And if that wasn't enough, I got \nhurled the ball when I'm not looking. Wam! Right in my face.\n\n

They stop at a red light. Clarence looks at Alabama.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Red light means love, baby.\n\n

He and Alabama start kissing.\n\n\n

INT. MOVING CADILLAC - DAY\n\n

Marvin, Frankie, Lenny and Dario in a rented Caddy.\n\n\n

INT. BEVERLY WILSHIRE PARKING LOT - DAY\n\n

Clarence, Alabama, and Dick get out of the red Mustang. Dick takes the suitcase.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

I'll take that. Now, remember, both of you, let me do the talking.\n\n

Clarence takes out his .38. Dick reacts. They walk and talk.\n\n

DICK\n

What the fuck did you bring that for.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

In case.\n\n

DICK\n

In case of what?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

In case they try to kill us. I don't know, what do you want me to say?\n\n

DICK\n

Look, Dillinger, Lee Donowitz is not a pimp -\n\n

CLARENCE\n

I know that Richard. I don't think I'll need it. But something this last \nweek has taught me, it's better to have a gun and not to need it than to \nneed a gun and not to have it.\n\n

Pause. Clarence stops walking.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Hold it, guys. I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm pretty scared. \nWhat say we forget the whole thing.\n\n

Dick and Alabama are both surprised and relieved.\n\n

DICK\n

Do you really mean it?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

No, I don't really mean it. Well, I mean, this is our last chance to think \nabout it. How 'bout you, Bama?\n\n

ALABAMA\n

I thought it was what you wanted, Clarence.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

It is what I want. But I don't want to spend the next ten years in jail. I \ndon't want you guys to go to jail. We don't know what could be waiting for \nus up there. It'll probably be just what it's supposed to be. The only \nthing that's waiting for us is two hundred thousand dollars. I'm just \nlooking at the downside.\n\n

DICK\n

Now's a helluva time to play \"what if\".\n\n

CLARENCE\n

This is our last chance to play \"what if\". I want to do it. I'm just scared \nof getting caught.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

It's been fun thinking about the money but I can walk away from it, honey.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

That rhymes.\n\n

He kisses her.\n\n

DICK\n

Well, if we're not gonna do it, let's just get in the car and get the fuck \noutta here.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Yeah, let's just get outta here.\n\n

The three walk back to the car. Clarence gets behind the wheel. The other two climb in. Clarence hops back out.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

I'm sorry guys, I gotta do it. As petrified as I am, I just can't walk \naway. I'm gonna be kicking myself in the ass for the rest of my life if I \ndon't go in there. Lee Donowitz isn't a gangster lookin' to skin us, and \nhe's not a cop, he's a famous movie producer lookin' to get high. And I'm \njust the man who can get him there. So what say we throw caution to the \nwind and let the chips fall where they may.\n\n

Clarence grabs the suitcase and makes a beeline for the hotel. Dick and Alabama exchange looks and follow.\n\n\n

INT. BEVERLY WILSHIRE - LOBBY - DAY\n\n

Elliot's walking around the lobby. He's very nervous, so he's singing to himself.\n\n

ELLIOT\n

(singing)\n

There's a man who leads a life of danger,\nTo everyone he meets\nhe stays a stranger.\nBe careful what you say,\nyou'll give yourself away...\n\n\n

INT. BEVERLY WILSHIRE - COPS' HOTEL ROOM - DAY\n\n

Nicholson, Dimes, Wurlitzer, and the three other Detectives surround the tape machine. Coming from the machine:\n\n

ELLIOT'S VOICE\n

(off)\n

... odds are you won't live\nto see tomorrow,\nsecret agent man,\nsecret agent man....\n\n

Nicholson looks at Dimes.\n\n

DIMES\n

Why, all of the sudden, have I got a bad feeling?\n\n

BACK TO:\n\n\n

LOBBY\n\n

Clarence enters the lobby alone, he's carrying the suitcase. He spots Elliot and goes in his direction. Elliot sees Clarence approaching him. He says to himself, quietly:\n\n

ELLIOT\n

Elliot, your motivation is to stay out of jail.\n\n

Clarence walks up to Elliot, they shake hands.\n\n

ELLIOT\n

Where's everybody else?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

They'll be along.\n\n

Alabama and Dick enter the lobby, they join up with Clarence and Elliot.\n\n

ELLIOT\n

Hi, Dick.\n\n

DICK\n

How you doin', Elliot?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Well, I guess it's about that time.\n\n

ELLIOT\n

I guess so. Follow me.\n\n\n

INT. BEVERLY WILSHIRE - ELEVATOR - DAY\n\n

The four of them are riding in the elevator. As luck would have it, they have the car to themselves. Rinky-drink elevator Muzak is playing. They are all silent.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Elliot.\n\n

ELLIOT\n

Yeah?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Get on your knees.\n\n

Not sure he heard him right.\n\n

ELLIOT\n

What?\n\n

Clarence hits the stop button on the elevator panel and whips out his .38.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

I said get on your fuckin' knees.\n\n

Elliot does it immediately. Dick and Alabama react.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Shut up, both of you, I know what I'm doin'.\n\n

BACK TO:\n\n\n

COPS' ROOM\n\n

Pandemonium.\n\n

DIMES\n

He knows.\n\n

NICHOLSON\n

How the fuck could he know?\n\n

DIMES\n

He saw the wire.\n\n

NICHOLSON\n

How's he supposed to see the wire?\n\n

DIMES\n

He knows something's up.\n\n

BACK TO:\n\n\n

ELEVATOR\n\n

Clarence puts the .38 against Elliot's forehead.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

You must think I'm pretty stupid, don't you?\n\n

No answer.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Don't you?\n\n

ELLIOT\n

(petrified)\n

No.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

(yelling)\n

Don't lie to me, motherfucker. You apparently think I'm the dumbest \nmotherfucker in the world! Don't you? Say: Clarence, you are without a \ndoubt, the dumbest motherfucker in the whole wide world. Say it!\n\n

BACK TO:\n\n\n

COPS' ROOM\n\n

NICHOLSON\n

We gotta get him outta there.\n\n

DIMES\n

Whatta we gonna do? He's in an elevator.\n\n

BACK TO:\n\n\n

ELEVATOR\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Say it, goddamn it!\n\n

ELLIOT\n

You are the dumbest person in the world.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Apparently I'm not as dumb as you thought I am.\n\n

ELLIOT\n

No. No you're not.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

What's waiting for us up there. Tell me or I'll pump two right in your \nface.\n\n

BACK TO:\n\n\n

COPS\n\n

NICHOLSON\n

He's bluffin ya, Elliot. Can't you see that? You're an actor, remember, the \nshow must go on.\n\n

DIMES\n

This guy's gonna kill him.\n\n

BACK TO:\n\n\n

ELEVATOR\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Stand up.\n\n

Elliot does. The .38 is still pressed against his forehead.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Like Nick Carter used to say: I I'm wrong, I'll apologize. I want you to \ntell me what's waiting for us up there. Something's amiss. I can feel it. \nIf anything out of the ordinary goes down, believe this, you're gonna be \nthe first one shot. Trust me, I am AIDS, you fuck with me, you die. Now \nquit making me mad and tell me why I'm so fucking nervous.\n\n

BACK TO:\n\n\n

COPS' ROOM\n\n

DIMES\n

He's bluffin', I knew it. He doesn't know shit.\n\n

NICHOLSON\n

Don't blow it, Elliot. He's bluffin'. He just told you so himself.\n\n

DIMES\n

You're an actor, so act, motherfucker.\n\n

BACK TO:\n\n\n

ELEVATOR\n\n

Elliot still hasn't answered.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

OK.\n\n

With the .38 up against Elliot's head Clarence puts his palm over the top of the gun to shield himself from the splatter. Alabama and Dick can't believe what he's gonna do.\n\n

Elliot, tears running down, starts talking for the benefit of the people at the other end of the wire. He sounds like a little boy.\n\n

ELLIOT\n

I don't wanna be here. I wanna go home. I wish somebody would just come and \nget me 'cause I don't like this. This is not what I thought it would be. \nAnd I wish somebody would just take me away. Just take me away Come and get \nme. 'Cause I don't like this anymore. I can't take this. I'm sorry but I \njust can't. So, if somebody would just come to my rescue, everything would \nbe alright.\n\n

BACK TO:\n\n\n

COPS' ROOM\n\n

Nicholson and Dimes shake their hands, They have a \"well, that's that\" expression an their faces.\n\n

BACK TO:\n\n\n

ELEVATOR\n\n

Clarence puts down the gun and hugs Elliot.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Sorry, Elliot. Nothing personal. I just hadda make sure you're all right. \nI'm sure. I really apologize for scaring you so bad, but believe me, I'm \njust as scared as you. Friends?\n\n

Elliot, in a state of shock, takes Clarence's hand. Dick and Alabama are relieved.\n\n

BACK TO:\n\n\n

COPS' ROOM\n\n

Nicholson and Dimes listen open-mouthed, not believing what they're hearing.\n\n\n

INT. DICK'S APARTMENT - DAY\n\n

Floyd still lying on the couch watching TV. He hasn't moved since we last saw him.\n\n

There is a knock from the door.\n\n

FLOYD\n

(not turning away from TV)\n

It's open.\n\n

The front door flies open and the four Wise-guys rapidly enter the room. The door slams shut. All have their sawed-offs drawn and pointing at Floyd.\n\n

FLOYD\n

Yes.\n\n

LENNY\n

Are you Dick Ritchie?\n\n

FLOYD\n

No.\n\n

LENNY\n

Do you know a Clarence Worley?\n\n

FLOYD\n

Yes.\n\n

LENNY\n

Do you know where we can find him?\n\n

FLOYD\n

He's at the Beverly Wilshire.\n\n

LENNY\n

Where's that?\n\n

FLOYD\n

Well, you go down Beechwood...\n\n\n

INT. BEVERLY WILSHIRE - LEE'S HOTEL ROOM - DAY\n\n

The door opens and reveals an extremely muscular guy with an Uzi strapped to his shoulder standing in the doorway, his name is Monty.\n\n

MONTY\n

Hi, Elliot. Are these your friends?\n\n

ELLIOT\n

You could say that. Everybody, this is Monty.\n\n

MONTY\n

C'mon in. Lee's in the can. He'll be out in a quick.\n\n

They all move into the room, it is very luxurious.\n\n

Another incredibly muscular GUY, Boris, is sitting on the sofa, he too has an Uzi. Monty begins patting everybody down.\n\n

MONTY\n

Sorry, nothin personal.\n\n

He starts to search Clarence. Clarence back away.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

No need to search me, daredevil. All you'll find is a .38 calibre.\n\n

Boris gets up from the couch.\n\n

BORIS\n

What compelled you to bring that along?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

The same thing that compelled you, Beastmaster, to bring rapid-fire weaponry to a business meeting.\n\n

BORIS\n

I'll take that.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

You'll have to.\n\n

The toilet flushes in the bathroom. The door swings open and Lee Donowitz emerges.\n\n

LEE\n

They're here. Who's who?\n\n

ELLIOT\n

Lee, this is my friend Dick, and these are his friends, Clarence and \nAlabama.\n\n

BORIS\n

(pointing at Clarence)\n

This guy's packin'.\n\n

LEE\n

Really?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Well, I have to admit, walkin' through the door and seein' these \"Soldier \nof Fortune\" poster boys made me a bit nervous. But, Lee, I'm fairly \nconfident that you came here to do business, not to be a wise-guy. So, if \nyou want, I'll put the gun on the table.\n\n

LEE\n

I don't think that'll be necessary. Let's all have a seat. Boris, why don't \nyou be nice and get coffee for everybody.\n\n

They all sit around a fancy glass table except for Boris, who's getting the coffee, and Monty, who's standing behind Lee's chair.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Oh, Mr. Donowitz -\n\n

LEE\n

Lee, Clarence . Please don't insult me. Call me Lee.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

OK, sorry, Lee. I just wanna tell you \"Coming Home in a Body Bag\" is one of \nmy favorite movies. After \"Apocalypse Now\" I think it's the best Vietnam \nmovie ever.\n\n

LEE\n

Thank you very much, Clarence.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

You know, most movies that win a lot of Oscars, I can't stand. \"Sophie's \nChoice\", \"Ordinary People\", \"Kramer vs. Kramer\", \"Gandhi\". All that stuff \nis safe, geriatric, coffee-table dog shit.\n\n

LEE\n

I hear you talkin' Clarence. We park our cars in the same garage.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Like that Merchant-Ivory clap-trap. All those assholes make are unwatchable \nmovies from unreadable books.\n\n

Boris starts placing clear-glass coffee cups in front of everybody and fills everybody's cup from a fancy coffee pot that he handles like an expert.\n\n

LEE\n

Clarence, there might be somebody somewhere that agrees with you more than \nI do, but I wouldn't count on it.\n\n

Clarence is on a roll and he knows it.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

They ain't plays, they ain't books, they certainly ain't movies, they're \nfilms. And do you know what films are? They're for people who don't like \nmovies. \"Mad Max\", that's a movie. \"The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly\", \nthat's a movie. \"Rio Bravo\", that's a movie. \"Rumble Fish\", that's a \nfuckin' movie. And, \"Coming Home in a Body Bag\", that's a movie. It was the \nfirst movie with balls to win a lot of Oscars since the \"The Deer Hunter\".\n\n

BACK TO:\n\n\n

COPS' ROOM\n\n

They're all listening to this.\n\n

DIMES\n

What's this guy doin'? Makin' a drug deal or gettin' a job on the \"New \nYorker\"?\n\n

BACK TO:\n\n\n

LEE'S ROOM\n\n

CLARENCE\n

My uncle Roger and uncle Cliff, both of which were in Nam, saw \"Coming Home \nin a Body Bag\" and thought it was the most accurate Vietnam film they'd \never seen.\n\n

LEE\n

You know, Clarence, when a veteran of that bullshit wars says that, it \nmakes the whole project worthwhile. Clarence, my friend, and I call you my \nfriend because we have similar interests, let's take a look at what you \nhave for me.\n\n

BACK TO:\n\n\n

COPS' ROOM\n\n

DIMES\n

Thank God.\n\n

BACK TO:\n\n\n

LEE'S ROOM\n\n

Clarence puts the suitcase on the table.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Lee, when you see this you're gonna shit.\n\n

BACK TO:\n\n\n

LOBBY\n\n

The four Wise-guys are at the desk.\n\n

LENNY\n

(quietly to the others)\n

What was the Jew-boy's name?\n\n

MARVIN\n

Donowitz, he said.\n\n

FRONT-DESK GUY\n

How can I help you, Gentlemen?\n\n

LENNY\n

Yeah, we're from Warner Bros. What room is Mr. Donowitz in?\n\n

BACK TO:\n\n\n

LEE'S ROOM\n\n

Lee's looking over the cocaine and sampling it.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Now, that's practically uncut. You could, if you so desire, cut it a \nhelluva lot more.\n\n

LEE\n

Don't worry, I'll desire. Boris, could I have some more coffee.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Me too, Boris.\n\n

Boris fills both of their cups. They both, calm as a lake, take cream and sugar. All eyes are on them. Lee uses light cream and sugar, he begins stirring this cup. Clarence uses very heavy cream and sugar.\n\n

LEE\n

(stirring loudly)\n

You like a little coffee with your cream and sugar?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

I'm not satisfied till the spoon stands straight up.\n\n

Both are cool as cucumbers.\n\n

LEE\n

I have to hand it to you, this is not nose garbage, this is quality. Can \nBoris make anybody a sandwich? I got all kinds of sandwich shit from \nCanters in there.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

No thank you.\n\n

DICK\n

No. But thanks.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

No thanks, my stomach's a little upset. I ate somethin' at a restaurant \nthat made me a little sick.\n\n

LEE\n

Where'd you go?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

A Norms in Van Nuys.\n\n

LEE\n

Bastards. That's why I always eat at Lawreys.\n\n

Lee continues looking at the merchandise.\n\n

Alabama writes something in her napkin with a pencil. She slides the napkin over to Clarence. It says: \"You're so cool\" with a tiny heart drawn on the bottom of it. Clarence takes the pencil and draws an arrow through the heart. She takes the napkin and puts it in her pocket.\n\n

Lee looks up.\n\n

LEE\n

OK, Clarence, the merchandise is perfect. But, whenever I'm offered a deal \nthat's too good to be true, it's because it's a lie. Convince me you're on \nthe level.\n\n

BACK TO:\n\n\n

COPS' ROOM\n\n

DIMES\n

If he don't bite, we ain't got shit except posession.\n\n

NICHOLSON\n

Convince him.\n\n

BACK TO:\n\n\n

LEE'S ROOM\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Well, Lee, it's like this. You're getting the bargain of a lifetime because \nI don't know what the fuck I'm doing. You're used to dealin' with \nprofessionals. I'm not a professional. I'm a rank amateur. I could take \nthat, and I could cut it, and I could sell it a little bit at a time, and \nmake a helluva lot more money. But, in order to do that, I'd have to become \na drug dealer. Deal with cut-throat junkies, killers, worry about getting \nbusted all of the time. Just meeting you here today scares the shit outta \nme, and you're not a junkie, a killer or a cop, you're a fucking \nmovie-maker. I like you, and I'm still scared. I'm a punk kid who picked up \na rock in the street, only to find out it's the Hope Diamond. It's worth a \nmillion dollars, but I can't get the million dollars for it. But, you can. \nSo, I'll sell it to you for a couple a hundred thousand. You go to make a \nmillion. It's all found money to me anyway. Me and my wife are minimum wage \nkids, two hundred thousand is the world.\n\n

LEE\n

Elliot tells me you're fronting for a dirty cop.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Well, Elliot wasn't supposed to tell you anythin'.\n

(to Elliot)\n

Thanks a lot, bigmouth. I knew you were a squid the moment I laid eyes on \nyou. In my book, buddy, you're a piece of shit.\n

(to Lee)\n

He's not a dirty cop, he's a good cop. He just saw his chance and he took \nit.\n\n

LEE\n

Why does he trust you?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

We grew up together.\n\n

LEE\n

If you don't know shit, why does he think you can sell it?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

I bullshitted him.\n\n

Lee starts laughing.\n\n

LEE\n

That's wild. This fucking guy's a madman. I love it. Monty, go in the other \nroom and get the money.\n\n

Clarence, Alabama and Dick exchange looks.\n\n

BACK TO:\n\n\n

COPS' ROOM\n\n

Nicholson and Dimes exchange looks.\n\n

DIMES & NICHOLSON\n

Bingo!\n\n

BACK TO:\n\n\n

ELEVATOR\n\n

The four Wise-guys are coming up.\n\n

BACK TO:\n\n\n

LEE'S ROOM\n\n

LEE\n

(pointing to Alabama)\n

What's your part in this?\n\n

ALABAMA\n

I'm his wife.\n\n

LEE\n

(referring to Dick)\n

How 'bout you?\n\n

DICK\n

I know Elliot.\n\n

LEE\n

And Elliot knows me. Tell me, Clarence, what department does you friend \nwork in?\n\n

Dick and Alabama panic.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

(without missing a beat)\n

Carson County Sheriffs.\n\n

BACK TO:\n\n\n

COPS' ROOM\n\n

The internal affairs officers high five.\n\n

BACK TO:\n\n\n

LEE'S ROOM\n\n

Monty brings in a briefcase of money and puts it down on the table.\n\n

LEE\n

Wanna count your money?\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Actually, they can count it. I'd like to use the little boy's room.\n\n

BACK TO:\n\n\n

COPS' ROOM\n\n

They all stand.\n\n

DIMES\n

OK, boys. Let's go get 'em.\n\n\n

INT. BEVERLY WILSHIRE - LEE'S HOTEL ROOM - BATHROOM - DAY\n\n

Clarence steps inside the bathroom and shuts the door. As soon as it's shut he starts doing the twist. He can't believe he's pulled it off. He goes to the toilet and starts taking a piss. He turns and sees Elvis sitting on the sink.\n\n

ELVIS\n

Clarence, I gotta hand it to ya. You were cooler than cool.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

I was dying. I thought for sure everyone could see it on my face.\n\n

ELVIS\n

All anybody saw was Clint Eastwood drinkin' coffee.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

Can you develop an ulcer in two minutes? Being cool is hard on your body.\n\n

ELVIS\n

Oh, and your line to Charles Atlas in there: \"I'll take that gun\", \"You'll \nhave to\".\n\n

CLARENCE\n

That was cool, wasn't it? You know, I don't even know where that came from. \nI just opened my mouth and it came out. After I said it I thought, that's a \ncool line, I gotta remember that.\n\n

BACK TO:\n\n\n

LEE'S ROOM\n\n

Everything's just as it was.\n\n

Sudenly, Nicholson, Dimes and the four Detectives break into the room with guns drawn.\n\n

DIMES & NICHOLSON\n

Police! Freeze, you're all under arrest!\n\n

Everybody at the table stands up. Boris and Monty stand ready with the Uzis.\n\n

DIMES\n

You two! Put the guns on the floor and back away.\n\n

MONTY\n

Fuck you! All you pigs put your guns on the floor and back away.\n\n

LEE\n

Monty, what are you talking about? So what they say.\n\n

DIMES\n

This is your last warning! Drop those fuckin' guns!\n\n

BORIS\n

This is your last warning! We could kill all six of ya and ya fuckin' know \nit! Now get on the floor!\n\n

DICK\n

What the fuck am I doing here?\n\n

LEE\n

Boris! Everybody's gonna get killed! They're cops!\n\n

MONTY\n

So they're cops. Who gives a shit?\n\n

BORIS\n

Lee, something I never told you about me. I don't like cops.\n\n

NICHOLSON\n

OK, let's everybody calm down and get nice. Nobody has to die. We don't \nwant it, and you don't want it.\n\n

LEE\n

We don't want it.\n\n

The four Wise-guys burst through the door, shotguns drawn, except for Frankie, who has two .45 automatics, one in each hand.\n\n

Half of the cops spin around.\n\n

WURLITZER\n

Freeze!\n\n

LENNY\n

Who are you guys?\n\n

WURLITZER\n

Police.\n\n

DARIO\n

(to Lenny)\n

Do we get any extra if we have to kill cops?\n\n

BACK TO:\n\n\n

BATHROOM\n\n

Clarence and Elvis.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

How do you think I'm doin' with Lee?\n\n

ELVIS\n

Are you kiddin'? He loves you.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

You don't think I'm kissin' his ass, do you?\n\n

ELVIS\n

You're tellin' him what he wants to hear, but that ain't the same thing as \nkissin' his ass.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

I'm not lyin' to him. I mean it. I loved \"Coming Home in a Body Bag\".\n\n

ELVIS\n

That's why it doesn't come across as ass-kissin', because it's genuine, and \nhe can see that.\n\n

Elvis fixes Clarence's collar.\n\n

ELVIS\n

I like ya, Clarence. Always have.\n\n

BACK TO:\n\n\n

LEE'S ROOM\n\n

This is a Mexican stand-off if there ever was one. Gangsters on one end with shotguns. Bodyguards with machine guns on the other. And cops with handguns in the middle.\n\n

Dick's ready to pass out.\n\n

Alabama's so scared she pees on herself.\n\n

For Elliot, this has been the worst day of his life, and he's just about had it.\n\n

ELLIOT\n

Officer Dimes? Officer Dimes.\n\n

Dimes looks at Elliot.\n\n

ELLIOT\n

This has nothing to do with me anymore. Can I just leave and you guys just \nsettle it by yourselves?\n\n

DIMES\n

Elliot, shut the fuck up and stay put!\n\n

LEE\n

(to Elliot)\n

How did you know his name? How the fuck did he know your name? Why, you \nfuckin' little piece of shit!\n\n

ELLIOT\n

Lee, understand, I didn't want to -\n\n

DIMES\n

Shut the fuck up!\n\n

LEE\n

Well, I hope you're not planning on acting any time in the next twenty \nyears 'cause your career is over as of now! You might as weel burn your SAG \ncard! To think I treated you as a son! And you stabbed me in the heart!\n\n

Lee can't control his anger any more. He grabs the coffee pot off the table and flings hot coffee into Elliot's face. Elliot screams and falls to his knees,\n\n

Instinctively, Nicholson shoots Lee twice.\n\n

Alabama screams.\n\n

Boris lets loose with his Uzi, pinting Nicholson red with bullets.\n\n

DIMES\n

(screaming)\n

Cody!!!\n\n

Nicholson flies backwards.\n\n

Marvin fires his shotgun, hits Nicholson in the back, Nicholson's body jerks back and forth then on the floor.\n\n

Clarence opens the bathroom door.\n\n

Dimes hits the ground firing.\n\n

A shot catches Clarence in the forehead.\n\n

Alabama screams.\n\n

Dario fires his sawed-off. It catches Clarence in the chest, hurling him on the bathroom sink, smashing the mirror.\n\n

It might have been a stand-off before, but once the firing starts everybody either hits the ground or runs for cover.\n\n

Dimes, Alabama, Dick, Lenny, an IA Officer and Wurtlitzer hit the ground.\n\n

Boris dives into the kitchen area.\n\n

Monty tips the table over.\n\n

Marvin dives behind the sofa.\n\n

Dario runs out of the door and down the hall.\n\n

With bullets flying this way and that, some don't have time to anything. Two IA Officers are shot right away.\n\n

Frankie takes an Uzi hit. He goes down firing both automatics.\n\n

Elliot gets it from both sides.\n\n

Alabama is crawling across the floor, like a soldier in war, towards the bathroom.\n\n

Clarence, still barely alive, lays on the sink, twitching. He moves and falls off.\n\n

Alabama continues crawling.\n\n

Marvin brings his sawed-off from behind the sofa and fires. The shotgun blast hits the glass table and Monty. Monty stands up screaming.\n\n

The Cops on the ground let loose, firing into Monty.\n\n

As Monty gets hit, his finger hits the trigger of the Uzi, spreading fire all over the apartment.\n\n\n

EXT. BEVERLY WILSHIRE - DAY\n\n

Cop cars start arriving in twos in front of the hotel.\n\n

BACK TO:\n\n\n

GUNFIGHT\n\n

Alabama crawling.\n\n

The suitcase full of cocaine is by Dick. Dick grabs it and tosses it in the air. Marvin comes from behind the sofa and fires. The suitcase is hit in mid-air. White powder goes everywhere. The room is enveloped in cocaine.\n\n

Dick takes this cue and makes a dash out the door.\n\n

An IA Officer goes after him.\n\n

Lenny makes a break for it.\n\n

Wurlitzer goes after him but is pinned down by Marvin.\n\n

Alabama reaches the bathroom and finds Clarence.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Sweety?\n\n

Clarence's face is awash with blood.\n\n

CLARENCE\n

I... I can't see you... I've got blood in my eyes...\n\n

He dies.\n\n

Alabama tries to give him outh-to-mouth resuscitation.\n\n\n

INT. BEVERLY WILSHIRE - HALLWAY - DAY\n\n

Dario runs down the hall, right into a cluster of uniformed police.\n\n

He fires his shotgun, hitting two, just before the others chop him to ribbons.\n\n\n

INT. BEVERLY WILSHIRE - ANOTHER HALLWAY\n\n

The hallway's empty but we hear footsteps approaching fast. Dick comes around the corner, running as if on fire. Then we see the IA Officer turn the same corner.\n\n

IA OFFICER\n

(aiming gun)\n

Freeze!\n\n

Dick does.\n\n

DICK\n

I'm unarmed!\n\n

IA OFFICER\n

Put your hands on your head, you son-of-a-bitch!\n\n

He does. Then, from off screen, a shotgun blast tears into the IA Officer, sending him to the wall.\n\n

DICK\n

Oh shit.\n\n

He starts running again and runs out of frame, then Lenny turns around the corner and runs down the hall.\n\n

Dick runs into the elevator area, he hits the buttons, he's trapped, it's like a box.\n\n

Lenny catches up. Dick raises his hands. Lenny aimes his sawed-off.\n\n

DICK\n

Look, I don't know who you are, but whatever it was that I did to you, I'm \nsorry.\n\n

Two elevator doors on either side of them open.\n\n

Lenny looks at Dick. He drops his aim and says:\n\n

LENNY\n

Lotsa luck.\n\n

Lenny dives into one elevator car. Dick jumps into the other, just as the doors close.\n\n

BACK TO:\n\n\n

HOTEL ROOM\n\n

The Mexican stand-off has become two different groups of two pinning each other down.\n\n

Wurlitzer has Marvin pinned down behind the sofa and Dimes has Boris pinned down in the kitchen.\n\n

In the bathroom, Alabama's pounding on Clarence's bloody chest, trying to get his heart started. It's not working. She slaps him hard in the face a couple of times.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Wake up, goddamn it!\n\n

Dimes discards his handgun and pulls one of the sawed-off shotguns from the grip of a dead Wise-guy.\n\n

Boris peeks around the wall to fire.\n\n

Dimes lets loose with a blast. A scream is heard.\n\n

BORIS\n

(off)\n

I'm shot! Stop!\n\n

DIMES\n

Throw out your gun, asshole!\n\n

The Uzi's tossed out.\n\n

Dimes goes to where Wurlitzer is.\n\n

DIMES\n

(to Marvin)\n

OK, black jacket! It's two against one now! Toss the gun and lie face down \non the floor or die like all you friends.\n\n

The shotgun's tossed out from behind the sofa.\n\n\n

INT. BEVERLY WILSHIRE - ELEVATOR - DAY\n\n

Dick's sitting on the ground, he can't believe any of this. The doors open on the fourth floor. He runs out into the hallway.\n\n\n

HALLWAY\n\n

He starts trying the room doors for an open one.\n\n

DICK\n

Oh, God, if you just get me outta this I swear to God I'll never fuck up \nagain. Please, just let me get to \"T.J. Hooker\" on Monday.\n\n\n

STEWARDESS'S ROOM - DAY\n\n

Dick steps in. Three gorgeous girls are doing a killer aerobics workout to a video on TV. The music is so loud they're so into their exercises, they don't hear Dick tiptoe behind them and crawl underneath the bed.\n\n\n

LEE'S ROOM\n\n

Boris has caught a lot of buckshots, but he'll live. He's lying on the kitchen floor. Dimes stands over him. He has the sawed-off in his hand.\n\n

DIMES\n

Don't even give me an excuse, motherfucker.\n\n

Dimes pats him down for other weapons, there are none.\n\n

Wurlitzer puts the cuffs on Marvin and sits him down on the couch.\n\n

Dimes looks in the bathroom and sees the dead Clarence with Alabama crying over him.\n\n

Dimes walks over to Wurlitzer.\n\n

DIMES\n

Everything's under control here.\n\n

WURLITZER\n

Sorry about Nicholson.\n\n

DIMES\n

Me too.\n\n

WURLITZER\n

I'm gonna go see what's goin' on outside.\n\n

DIMES\n

You do that.\n\n

Wurlitzer exits. Dimes grabs the phone.\n\n\n

LOBBY\n\n

Shotgun in hand, Lenny moves hurriedly down the lobby.\n\n

A Cop yells out.\n\n

COP\nYou! Stop!\n\n

Lenny brings up his sawed-off and lets him have it. Other cops rush forward. Lenny grabs a woman standing by.\n\n

LENNY\n

Get back or I'll blow this bitch's brains to kingdom come!\n\n\n

LEE'S ROOM\n\n

Dimes on the phone talking with the department. Boris is still moving on the floor. Marvin is sitting on the couch with his hands cuffed behind his back. Alabama is crying over Clarence, then she feels something in his jacket. She reaches in and pulls out his .38. She wipes her eyes. She holds the gun in her hand and remembers Clarence saying:\n\n

CLARENCE\n

(off)\n

Alabama steps out of the bathroom, gun in hand.\n\n

Marvin turns his head toward her. She shoots him twice.\n\n

Dimes, still on the phone, spins around in time to see her raise her gun. She fires. He's hit in the head and flung to the floor.\n\n

She sees Boris on the kitchen floor.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

Bye-bye, Boris. Good luck.\n\n

BORIS\n

You too, cutie.\n\n

She starts to leave and then spots the briefcase full of money. She takes it and walks out the door.\n\n\n

HALLWAY\n\n

The elevator opens and Wurlitzer steps out.\n\n

Alabama comes around the corner.\n\n

WURLITZER\n

Hey, you!\n\n

Alabama shoots him three times in the belly. She steps into the elevator, the doors close.\n\n\n

LOBBY\n\n

Alabama enters the lobby and proceeds to walk out. In the background, cops are all over the place and Lenny is still yelling with the woman hostage.\n\n

LENNY\n

I wanna car here, takin' me to the airport, with a plane full of gas ready \nto take me to Kilimanjaro and... and a million bucks!\n

(pause)\n

Small bills!\n\n\n

EXT. BEVERLY WILSHIRE - PARKING LOT - DAY\n\n

Alabama puts the briefcase in the trunk. She gets into the Mustang and drives away.\n\n\n

INT. MUSTANG - MOVING - DAY\n\n

Alabama's driving fast down the freeway. The DJ on the radio is trying to be funny. She's muttering to herself.\n\n

ALABAMA\n

I could have walked away. I told you that. I told you I could have walked \naway. This is not my fault. I did not do this. You did this one hundred \npercent to yourself. I'm not gonna give you the satisfaction of feeling \nbad. I should laugh 'cause you don't deserve any better. I could get \nanother guy like that. I'm hot lookin'. What are you? Dead! Dumb jerk. \nAsshole. You're a asshole, you're a asshole, you're a asshole. You wanted \nit all, didn't ya? Didn't ya? Well watcha got now? You ain't got the money. \nYou ain't got me. You ain't even got your body anymore. You got nothin'. \nNada. Zip. Goose egg. Nil. Donut.\n\n

The song \"Little Arrows\" by Leapy Lee comes on the radio. Alabama breaks down and starts crying. She pulls the car over to the side. The song continues. She wipes her eyes with a napkin that she pulls out her jacket. She tosses it on the dashboard. She picks up the .38 and sticks it in her mouth.\n\n

She pulls back hammer. She looks up and sees her reflection in the rear-view mirror. She turns it the other way. She looks straight ahead. Her finger tightens on the trigger. She sees the napkin on the dashboard. She opens it up and reads it: \"You're so cool\".\n\n

She tosses the gun aside, opens up the trunk, and takes out the briefcase. She looks around for, and finally finds, the \"Sgt. Fury\" comic book Clarence bought her.\n\n

And with comic book in one hand, and briefcase in the other, Bama walks away from the Mustang forever.\n\n

FADE OUT\n\n\n\n

THE END\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nScreenplay by Quentin Tarantino\n\nProduced by Samuel Hadida\nSteve Perry\nBill Unger\n\nDirected by Tony Scott\n\nCast List:\n\nChristian Slater Clarence Worley\nPatricia Arquette Alabama Whitman\nDennis Hopper Clifford Worley\nMichael Rapaport Dick Ritchie\nBronson Pinchott Elliot Blitzer\nChristopher Walken Vincenzo Coccotti\nSaul Rubinek Lee Donowitz\nSamuel L. Jackson Big Don\nBrad Pitt Floyd\nVal Kilmer Elvis (Mentor)\n\n\nTyped with two bare fingers by Niki Wurster\nRemoved from zip format and formatted in text format by Kale Whorton.\n\n\nFormatted in HTML by Dabrast Caustic\n\n

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