DISCLAIMER: John From Cincinnati and its canon characters are the property of HBO and the show's producers; no copyright infringement is intended.
Cissy and Mitch spend the day together. Shaun asks John's advice. Cass' camera saves Jake. The motel gets a delivery. Butchie helps Tina. John channels Lois. Erlemeyer seeks answers on the pier. Shaun puts on his game face.
Written by: backinthegame, Spiritonthewater, theshriek, Walkara, waxon
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(Lying in bed, Mitch stares at the ceiling. Cissy, asleep on her side next to him, looks rarely peaceful. Mitch turns to her and throws his arm across her side and smells her coconut hair, startling her awake in the process.)
Cissy: (groggy) Whadda you want?
Mitch: (removes his arm and turns back to the ceiling) Nuthin'...can't I just put my arm around my wife if I feel like it?
Cissy: (perplexed) I guess...you old fuckin' goat.
Mitch: (he puts his arm back around her) So...what's the plan today? I thought you might like to spend the day together.
Cissy: Goddamit, Mitch...if you wanna get fucked, just fuckin' say so.
Mitch: (takes his arm away again) You know, Cissy, things might be a little better between us if you'd cut me some slack...
Cissy: (Sitting up in bed) Well...you know, Mitch, I might would cut ya some fuckin' slack if you ever goddam deserved it, Mr. Center of the Fuckin' Universe. The Surf Shack is going under, Dolores is all up my ass for her arrears, Shaunie moved-in with Butchie the fuck-up and his pal Mork, and you fucked that skinny blonde bitch--feel free to jump-the-fuck in with solutions any goddam time....
Mitch: (rolls his eyes) Fine, Cissy, fine. I'm a complete asshole, responsible for all your problems and unhappiness...better? (He turns on his side, away from her)
Cissy: Much. (She grins) Ah, c'mon, numbnuts, don't start feelin' all fuckin' sorry for yourself. (She pulls the covers down and slaps his ass playfully)
Mitch: I'm not feelin' sorry...I just find the incessant ball-busting a little tiresome.
Cissy: (turning white) Incest?? What the fuck are you talking about??
Mitch: No, no: in·ces·sant. It means 'continuing without interruption.'
Cissy: Oh...(the color returns to her face) Talk about killin' the goddam mood. Shit! Why can't you just fuckin' say shit plain like the fuckin' most of us??
Mitch: I'm just sayin'...
Cissy: Well, what kind of interruption are ya lookin' for? You got another kind of "ball-busting" in mind? (She illustrates with her hand on his package.)
Mitch: (Stiffening from her touch, he turns back to her) Guess I'll take that fucking now. (He grins and runs his hand down her arm)
Cissy:...since you asked so fuckin' nice...(She takes off the t-shirt she slept in, exposing herself) C'mere. (She slides down, eye-level with Mitch, and kisses him on the cheek, softly)
Mitch: (surprised by her affection, he wraps his arms around her) You're a hell of a woman. (He leans down and kisses her on the lips)
Cissy: (Breaking their lip-lock) And you're a total son of a bitch. (She reaches down and helps him inside her) Now, show me why-the-fuck they call you 'The Big Kahuna.'
Mitch: (smiling, pushing it right) You're the only one that calls me that.
Cissy: I better fuckin' be, asshole. (She meets his rhythm, and they have sweaty, passionate monkey sex, leaving fingernail marks all over Mitch's back as evidence.)
- Walkara
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(There's a knock at Bill's front door. Bill is sitting on the couch in his boxer shorts, cringing through the morning news. He gets up, walks to the door, and peeks in the peephole. Recognizing John, he scratches himself and opens the door)
Bill: I-got-my-eye-on-you! What the fuck do you want?
John: (channeling Lois) It's a beautiful morning, Billy.
Bill: (grabs John by the shirt, and pulls him inside. Slamming the door behind them, Bill gets in John's face) What the fuck did I tell you about the goddam Charlie McCathy imitations?! Huh?!
John: "To pound his head through, with your fist, and hold him, gagging and thrashing beneath the surface of the very, very, very thin ice he's on 'till he drowns"? (He cocks his head, channeling Lois) Billy?! I'm appalled by the way you treat this young man who is trying to assist you. You treat him with such contempt!
Bill: Lo?! Dear God, sweetheart, forgive me (Bill embraces John) I cannot fuckin' reconcile myself to hearing your sweet words comin' from E.T.-over-here's lips.
John: (in his own voice) Get your composure.
Bill: (Pushes John away from him) Lois?! Lo? You still in there?
John: I'm right here, Billy. I came by to tell you to take Her Ladyship with you on your adventures today.
Bill: Adventures?? More like a goddam, frequently illegal, circle jerk. Fuck me: Her Ladyship??! You sure 'bout that, dear? I'm not certain she's up to fuckin' task.
(Her Ladyship begins sqwaking aggressively)
John: (Lois' voice) Good Lord! Who taught her to curse like that?? (disapprovingly) Billy...?
Bill: What?! Wasn't me: it was probably Zip: he's been swearin' like a sailor ever since he got back.
(Zippy flies from his unlatched cage and perches on Bill's shoulder)
John: Zippy: the big cruise director! (As Lois) The vato who gutted this young man is still at large, Billy. (In his own voice again) Joe needs your help. Listen to Zippy and Her Ladyship: they hear my father's words.
Bill: Alright, alright: I better go put some goddam trousers on then. Every fuckin' day brings more goddam insanity...Lo? You still there?
John: I don't know Butchie instead.
Bill: And there ya have it folks: a decorated officer of the law, reduced to asking questions of a fucking moron who's given to occasional possession by his deceased wife! A goddam shame, is what it is. The universe is fucking with me again. God, or whatever the fuck is calling the shots, must get off by watchin' us assfuck ourselves!
John: My father means well.
Bill: Yeah? Well tell him that if he's gonna send me messages from my dear Lois, I'd fuckin' appreciate if it came from her sweet face and not some goddam space cadet!
John: This could end in fisticuffs. (Zippy flies over to her ladyship's cage, and perched on top of it, waiting for Bill to set her free.)
Bill: (Shaking his head, hands over his face) Jesus Christ! (When he brings his arms back down and opens his eyes John has disappeared. He walks over to Her Ladyship's cage and opens it. She exits with exuberance, and perches next to Zippy on the top of the cage, they exchange a few heated words, then Zippy flies back to Bill's shoulder) Get off me, Zip! (He pauses, listening) Because I can't very well go gallavanting around town in my goddam underwear, now can I? (Pause) Whaddaya mean 'especially those ones'? (pauses, turning red) Oh...thought I felt a goddam draft on my boys. (listens) Don't be acting all fucking delicate... (pause) Well, maybe I would if you'd quit fuckin' chirping in my damn ear! (pause, listening to Her Ladyship) You just butt-the-fuck-out: no one's talking to you. (long pause) Okay, okay, okay, Judas Priest! I beg your fuckin' forgiveness with my sincere apology! (under his breath) That fuckin' crap machine is gonna be the end of me. (He walks over to the couch, picks up his pants and puts them on, albeit with difficulty) Musta fuckin' shrunk in the wash. (Zippy sqwaks) Oh, fuck you, bird brain! I'll eat all the goddam waffles I want.
- Walkara
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(Cissy grinds on Mitch and he arches his head back into the pillow, then she stops and shakes her head with a quizzical look on her face)
Cissy: Why am I all of a sudden thinking about fuckin'...Peter Pan?
Mitch: (opening his eyes and looking around) Maybe because we're five inches off the fucking bed!
Cissy: (looking around and seeing that she is riding Mitch in the air) Oh my God, I'm riding the fucking magic carpet!... Guess you're having your fucking happy thought now!
- SpiritontheWater
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(Shaun is sleeping on his back under the covers on Butchie's bed; he is smiling contentedly as he dreams. John is lying motionless on a mattress on the floor, eyes closed. His eyes pop open. he seems startled and sits up. Shaun stirs)
John: Shaun better get rid of the unsightly bulge.
(Shaun looks at John, looks down, blushes and sits up gathering the bedclothes)
Shaun: Fucking hell John!
John: Fucking hell Shaun!
Shaun: Where's my dad?
John: Bringing down the hammer
Shaun: (he blushes again) Jesus, John.
(John smiles; after an awkward silence, Shaun scoots to the side of the bed)
Shaun: Can I ask you a question John?
John: Ask me a question Shaun.
Shaun: Have you ever kissed a girl? I mean like properly (John cocks his head to the side and looks at Shaun quizzically) I mean it's not like I haven't had the opportunity; that girl Melanie last night... (His sentence fails him)
(John wants to help but doesn't know what to say, he grimaces in the most encouraging way he can.)
Shaun: I mean what if I don't do it right. Fucking Sam says he made it to 3rd base with that chick in Huntington. (He cradles his head in his hands) Every one of my fucking friends watches my mum do it... (He trails off again)
John: Tina does not raise your friends, nor show you how to do that.
(Another awkward silence is interrupted by Butchie bursting through the door)
Butchie: What's up losers? get the fuck out of bed or miss the fucking donuts - he dumps a paper bag on the coffee table
John: Shaun wants to bone Melanie
(Shaun looks mortified)
Butchie: Well fuck me... the little man is a chip off the old block after all (he walks over and slaps Shaunie on the back). There I was thinking you'd get fucking carpal tunnel. If there's anything you need to know, this guy (he points both thumbs at his chest) is your man. (Shaun is failing to find a rock to crawl under) Just try not to throw up on her. That's a real mood killer (Butchie strides into the bathroom and slams the door, he shouts from inside) Talk amongst yourselves, I've got to crap like its fucking Christmas.
(Shaun sighs and collapses back on his back on the bed)
(John stands up, flips his collar up and walks outside)
- backinthegame
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(Butchie flushes the toilet, runs his hands under the sink for a second, without soap, shakes them off, and walks out of the bathroom.)
Butchie: Where'd John go?
Shaun: (lying down, eyes close) He went outside. (He sniffs and opens his eyes in disgust) Uhhh...that's rank, dad. What the heck did you eat?
Butchie: Waffles, omelettes, doughnuts, a hot dog, a snickers bar, (He grins) pussy...
Shaun: You get an 'F' for fume control. Phew! Crack a window, would ya?
Butchie: (walking to the door) I'm going next door to room E. Kai's still fuckin' sleepin'.
Shaun: Now, you're gonna bring down the hammer...
Butchie: (gives Shaun a devilish grin) Shit, buddy: I'm gonna bring down the fuckin' house. (He throws opens the door and struts out, leaving the it open in order to air the room out. He walks next door and goes inside.)
John: (standing across the parking-lot) Make her see God, Butchie.
- Walkara
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(Joe wakes up in his sleeping bag on the ground. He rubs his face with his hands and sits up. He notices that his cot, where Magdalena should be, is empty. He gets up, stretches and walks out of the tent. Outside, he surveys the area, and is shocked to see that every last plant has been harvested and is hanging to dry. Magdalena is bent over the campfire, cooking breakfast. Joe's dutch oven is sizzling with eggs and bacon. In another smaller pan, Magdalena is making corn tortillas.)
Joe: Mornin', darlin'.
Magdalena: Good Morning, Joe. Did you sleep well?
Joe: Slept like a fuckin babe--but how in the hell did you manage to get all them fuckin' plants cut? And why the hell didn't ya wake me up?
Magdalena: As I said, my grandfather taught me how to harvest--and I wanted to do something for you, to express my sincere thanks for all you've done.
Joe: I ain't done shit yet. So far, your boy's trail has gone colder than a witch's tit.
Magdalena: You saved me from those rabid dogs! I never thought that the search would be easy or quick, but I am heartened to have the help of such fine men as you and Mr. Jacks.
Joe: Bill's good people. I ain't 'xactly the Dali fuckin' Llama, but you got my word that I ain't givin' up 'till we find him.
Magdalena: You are a good man, Joe. Decent and kind. Handsome too.
Joe: (blushing) Shiiit, Mags...you sure know how to tweak a feller's ego. (he walks over to her, and smells the smoky bacon and eggs) Goddam! that smells good.
Magdalena: I made some salsa fresca; it's in the cooler. I hope you like it hot.
Joe: If it ain't burnin' my tongue it has no business in my mouth.
Magdalena: (Blushes) Would you like some coffee (she grabs the coffee pot from the fire with a towel and fills a mug for him.) Sugar?
Joe: No thanks. Take it black. (He takes the mug from her and sips) I'll be damned! (he takes another sip) That's some good fuckin' coffee; such a rich goddam flavor.
Magdalena: I'm glad you like it. I brought it with me from home. We call it Corazón del café.
Joe: Very good. (He takes another sip, and sits down on a stump of wood) I figure we'll head into town in an hour or so and rendezvous with Bill at the VFW.
Magdalena: He is such a gentleman. So patient and thoughtful.
Joe: Bill Jacks?
Magdalena: Yes. He treated me so respectfully. I was surprised to find that not all American police revile Mexicans. His wife is very lucky.
Joe: Bill's retired, and his wife past away a while back.
Magdalena: Oh dear! I must have sounded so foolish asking him about her. Why didn't he tell me, rather than let me go on asking him about her?
Joe: Don't sweat yer pretty head 'bout that, Mags. Bill ain't the type to get all bent outta shape on account of a purdy lady. Don't suffer fools none, but, like the most of us, he's got a fuckin' sweet spot for a lady.
Magdalena: You are such a gentleman, Joe. (She walks over to him and kisses him on the cheek. When she leans in he breathes her in. She smells fresh like cilatro with a hint of spice. When her lips touch his cheek, goosebumps spread over his arms and legs and up his spine. He turns his head as she lifts them from him, and face to face, their eyes meet. Magdalena looks right into him, smiles and kisses him softly on the lips then goes back to the fire and flips the eggs and bacon over.)
Joe: (breathless from the unassuming kiss, unsure whether it was a simple show of friendly affection or something more. He takes another sip of coffee) It's good to have some company out here--didn't even realize how lonely it gets 'till you got here.
Magdalena: (dishing a plate of food) It's a pleasure to be here with you, Joe. (She walks over to him and hands him the plate then goes to the cooler and takes a small container of neatly chopped salsa fresca out, walks back and offers it to him. Joe takes the container and dumps some over his breakfast.) I hope it's okay. I forgot to include a lemon on my list.
Joe: (wrapping a tortilla around a mound of eggs and salsa, he takes a big bite, then another and another until it's gone) Fuckin' delicious! (he begins rolling another tortilla) Whew! that is spicy; fuckin' tasty as hell too.
Magdalena: I'm so glad you like it. Would you like a concha? (she offers him the Mexican sweet bread)
Joe: (he accepts it and takes a big bite) Mmmmm...(chewing)...Damn! this is good.
Magdalena: Would you like some juice?
Joe: Why don't you sit down and eat?
Magdalena: I will, after I've served you.
Joe: Sit the hell down, Mags. I 'preciate everything, but I ain't gonna let you wait on me hand and fuckin' foot.
Magdalena: You are the most generous man. Very well. (She fixes herself a plate and sits at the folding table just north of the fire.) Shall I say grace?
Joe: Umm...I ain't a believer, but you go right onahead. (Gathers his food and sits across the table from her)
Magdalena: (clasping her hands and bowing her head) Father, we thank thee for your grace, and acknowledge your sheltering hand in our lives. Bless this food to nourish and strengthen us. And thank you for bringing us together, for sending Joe to me, and for Mr. Jacks. Bless these men. And, dear Lord, please help us find Alejandro. Please protect him. Amen. (she raises her head and catches Joe staring at her) What is it, Joe?
Joe: (Clearing his throat) Nuthin', darlin'. Just thinkin'.
Magdalena: What were you thinking?
Joe: Nuthin' (he lies) I'm just glad to be able to help ya out.
Magdalena: Oh. (She finishes her plate of food, then sits back in her seat; producing a masterfully rolled joint, she lights it and takes a long, experienced hit, then offers it to Joe) Here.
Joe: (accepts the joint and takes a long, slow hit then exhales) That's a damn fine joint. (under his breath, to himself) The perfect goddam woman.
- Walkara
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(Tina and Linc are having coffee at Jerri's internet cafe. Linc is on the phone with Jake. Tina is on the phone with her former manager, Rafe.)
Tina: I already told ya, Rafe: I'm out. (listens) I don't give a fuck how much you offer me--I'm not making Moist Thighs, Pink Buns 4 (pause) You know what, Rafe: fuck off! (She hangs up the phone and listens to Linc's conversation)
Linc:...Chill the fuck out, Jake. Okay?? Shit! You've just gotta relax. We'll find out when they get here this afternoon.
Jake: (on the phone in his hotel room) I'm fucked, Linc: and YOU fucked me! My head is fuckin' killin' me!
Linc: Well, go take a fuckin' Midol and nurse your pussy 'till I get there then.
Jake: Fuck you, Linc. (he hangs up)
Tina: He's freaking out?
Linc: (flips his cell phone shut) Yeah. Whining like a little bitch.
Tina: Do you think he'll lose his job?
Linc: Honestly? I have no fuckin' clue. Thing is: there's a shitload of buzz about the exposition being here. They've just got their panties in a bunch over being kept outta the loop--somethin' they're gonna have to get used to, 'cause there's no fuckin' way we can appease the Yost's and the Money. But without the talent, the Money doesn't got shit.
Tina: Except money, right?
Linc: Yeah, I guess. (He reaches across the table and takes her hands) I've gotta go in just a minute. Will you drop me off over there?--fuck! I need my damn Navigator back!
Tina: Umm...I'm meeting someone here in a little while, so I better not leave--but you can take my car.
Linc: A meeting? With who? Is Rafe in town?
Tina: No. The agency is sending a Rep. down to negotiate the terms of my recusal from the Agency.
Linc: What, like percentage points?
Tina: That, and other things. (She lets go of Linc's hand)
Linc: Like what?
Tina: Nothin' you need to worry about, Linc.
Linc: In other words, you don't wanna tell me. (He looks her in the eye, telling her she can trust him with them)
Tina: Just let it go, okay?
Linc: Fine...but just know that you can fuckin' tell me anything--and I won't fuckin' judge you.
Tina: (She leans over the table and kisses him) It's just business stuff. C'mon Linc: I really like you, and I wanna be with you. This is just a personal matter.
Linc: You mean: none of my business.
Tina: I mean: none of anyone's business.
Linc: Okay, okay...I'll try to respect "your privacy"--I just thought you trusted me.
Tina: I do trust you...more than I've ever trusted another man, but we've only known each other for like a week. Don't get me wrong; I'm really happy (she reaches over and puts her hand on his face) with how things are going, but it's all happening so fast. Maybe we should slow things down a little.
Linc: Meaning what? Are you fuckin' sayin' what I think your fuckin' sayin'?
Tina: No. No way! I just need a little space, some patience, is all. Is that too much to ask?
Linc: 'Course not, but it feels like you're withdrawing from me. I want you to trust me, with everything--and I want to be there for ya, and be worthy of your trust.
Tina: (eyes glazed) I want that too...it's just, I need some space to figure all this out--my life didn't start when I came back to I.B., Linc. I have things that I have to take care of if I plan to stick around.
Linc: I thought you wanted a fresh fuckin' start?
Tina: I do. But I can't just wipe the slate clean. No matter what I ever do: the world will always see me as Tina Blake: Professional Whore.
Linc: You don't know that...but even so: who fuckin' cares--the only thing that really matters is how you see yourself.
Tina: (leans over and kisses him again) It matters how you see me.
Linc: I see a smart, sexy, thoughtful, delicate, beautiful woman that deserves a fresh fuckin' start, and deserves to be treated like the kind soul she is. (He scoots his chair over to her and they start making-out)
Jerri: (across the cafe, behind the bar, watching them) Jesus! If yer gonna shag, take it outside! Sorry, honey, he'll have to get your hole later. (under her breath) Fuckin' arseholes!
Linc: (ignoring Jerri, but surfacing for air) But if you need some space, I'll give it to you. You're not the only one that's trying to change their life, and the least I can do is give you space.
Tina: Don't you have secrets from me?
Linc: Nothing comes to mind...
Tina: That's not a very good answer.
Jerri: (eavesdropping) That's 'cause he's a dodgy fuck!
Linc: (to Jerri, smiling) Who asked you?! (to Tina) Nope. I'm an open book.
Tina: Promise?
Linc: I promise.
Tina: Okay (she takes a deep breath)...the agency wants me to stay on payroll as a consultant and recruiter.
Linc: You gonna do it?
Tina: I don't want to, but I have to earn a living, Linc...I've got some savings, but I can't just live off of everyone else forever--and The Business is all I know...on the other hand, I can't stomach the thought of luring other girls into the life, because I know how fucking soulless it is. I don't know what to do...
Linc: Why didn't you wanna tell me?
Tina: I didn't think you'd approve, and I'm not going to live off you.
Linc: Why Not! (points to himself) Hello: Millionaire. I don't really approve, but I'll support you whatever you fuckin' decide. I think The Business did a fuckin' number on you, and I don't think you'll feel good about yourself until you make a clean break, but it's your choice.
Tina: The business isn't the source of my problems, Linc: but it magnified everything.
Linc: Then why would you even consider helping those cocksuckers out?
Tina: Because it's all I know...look at Jenna Jameson: she's the head of her own empire--and since she got married, she only performs with other women.
Linc: Hold on! Are you sayin' you're still considering making "films"?
Tina: Of course not! No fucking way! I'm just considering working behind the scenes.
Linc: Well, whatever you decide: I've got your back, but I don't have a good feeling about it.
Tina: I haven't made up my mind either way, but thanks for letting me be honest and not making me feel ashamed about it.
Linc: More than anything, I don't want you to feel fuckin' ashamed ever again--you've had enough of that shit for one life. You're a gentle, gorgeous woman, Tina--not a product to be bought and sold.
Tina: And you're my man.
Linc: Damn fuckin' straight. (he pecks her on the lips and stand up) Alright, I'm gonna head down to the office and calm Jake down before he goes into labor or something. (he walks to the door)
Tina: Hey, Linc...
Linc: Yeah? (He turns and looks at her)
Tina: I...ll miss you.
Linc: I love you too. (he walks out the door, filled with purpose)
- Walkara
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(Cissy drives her Stingray to The Surf Shack. Mitch is in the passenger seat, looking in side mirror at the string of news vans following them)
Cissy: What the fuck do those fuckin' parasites want now?
Mitch: I don't know...except for on the pier, they pretty much left us alone yesterday--I was hoping they might've lost interest.
Cissy: Maybe they needed a fuckin' break from listening to you lecture them about world affairs.
Mitch: (sarcastically) Very funny...there's like four or five news vans back there. Those bloodsuckers are out in full force today.
(Mitch and Cissy arrive at The Surf Shack, park, and go inside. Several news vans park behind them. A gang of reporters and their cameramen exit and approach the entrance, now locked with Cissy and Mitch inside.)
Cissy: (walks over and plops down on the couch) What the fuck we do now?
Mitch: (looking out the window) I hate to break it to ya, Cissy: but Doris is on her way over here.
Cissy: Shit! Duck! Get the fuck away from the window, asshole, or she'll see you!
Mitch: Too late. I think she watched us park.
Cissy: Godammit! Fuck me...
Mitch: She's making her way over to the reporters...maybe I should go out and see what they want.
Cissy: You go do that, Mitchell--and get rid of Doris while you're at it.
Mitch: (Opens the door a crack, slides out, and closes it quickly behind him) What do you people want?
Reporter 1: Mitch Yost! When can we expect to see you back out on the water?
Mitch: No Comment.
Reporter 2: Are you aware that the Youtube videos of your son and grandson have received half a million hits in less than twenty-four hours? Every major news outlet is giving the expo free advertising because of it.
Mitch: Wow...I think.
Reporter 3: Mr. Yost? the other day you spoke about the environment, and even touched on terrorism. What are your thoughts on nuclear proliferation?
Mitch: I'm afraid that the powers-that-be are playing on the fears of the misinformed American public to justify a preemptive nuclear strike against a certain Arabian country.
Reporter 4: What do you have to say to the critics that argue that the attention focused on the family is just a reaction to Stinkweed's deception concerning your grandson's now-debunked "miraculous recovery"?
Mitch: I say: they're right. Look, everyone knows our family history with Stinkweed has been pretty troubled, to put it lightly--but, with the departure of Linc Stark, I'm encouraged that they will honor the agreements they made with my family.
Doris: (pushing to the front) When can I expect to have my arrears satisfied?
Mitch: (Amused by her wording, he smiles) I'll let ya talk to Cissy. She's inside. (He opens the door, allows Doris inside, and closes it behind her)
Reporter 5: Is it true that the family signed with Stinkweed to keep from bankruptcy? Did you sell yourself, your ideals, and your family out, to keep from ending up in the unemployment line?
Mitch: Piss off, dirtbag! Stinkweed made us an offer we couldn't refuse, and we signed with the agreement that we had final say in all matters relating to the family, as well as a commitment from them to help clean up Imperial Beach.
Reporter 5: But why would Stinkweed, notorious for their micro-managerial style and questionable ethics, agree to give you all the control?
Mitch: I guess you've never seen us surf.
(All the reporters laugh, except the one that asked the question.)
(Inside, Doris walks over to Cissy, still sitting on the couch, feeling Doris' eyes on the back of her head, resentfully. Doris walks around the couch and faces Cissy, and gives her a slightly comical, but stern and disapproving look)
Cissy: Alright, alright Doris, how much do I fuckin' owe ya?
Doris: I've been trying to track you down for days, Cissy. Don't think I didn't notice that you've been ducking me. I know you've had a crazy week, what with Shaunie's injury and whatnot, but that is no excuse to avoid me and your financial responsibilities. When I saw you parking a sports car, I told myself 'that's the last straw, Doris.' So here I am. Now, lets see: $650 a month times seven months is: $4,550.00 plus a hundred dollars a month penalty fee comes to: $5,250.00. Now, since you've just singed a lucrative contract with that surfing company, I assume you can afford to pay me outright, otherwise, I'm going to be forced to find a new renter.
Cissy: We ain't received shit yet, Doris. The car was paid for by the asshole that wrecked into my Miata. But give me to the end of the day to figure something the hell out. Shit, if I can't: you can go ahead and kick us out tomorrow.
Doris: Now, you know, Cissy, that I'm very fond of your family, and the last thing I want is to cause further turmoil, but I simply must be compensated ASAP; you're not the only one with money problems. Understand?
Cissy: Jesus! Yes, yes I get it. (rolls her eyes)
(Doris nods her head, walks to the door, and slips outside. When she does, Cissy hears Mitch talking to the reporters, sounding almost content. She takes her cell phone out of her purse and hits #2 on the speed dial)
Butchie: (Back at the Snug Harbor, fresh from the shower, still in the bathroom, he answers his cell phone)Yeah?
Cissy: Hey, what did you fuckin' mean when you said Capt. Kirk could "make money appear and every other fuckin' thing"?
Butchie: You mean John?
Cissy: Who the fuck else, retard?
Butchie: Alls ya gotta do is ask him for somethin' and he fuckin' pulls it right outta his fuckin' pockets. Just like that. That's where I got this phone from--and his fuckin' credit card too.
Cissy: Hmmm...why don't you bring him the fuck down to the Surf Shack?
Butchie: Okay, ma. He's out in the parking lot with Palaka, I think. Let me throw some fuckin' clothes on, and I'll head down there with him. Cool?
Cissy: Just fuckin' hurry! (She takes a breath) Hey, is Kai right there?
Butchie: Nope. Fuckin' drove down to Black's to catch some waves. I've gotta get this shithole cleaned up a little to make room for the rest of Shaunie's stuff.
Cissy: Where is Shaunie?
Butchie: Fuckin' skatin', I think.
Cissy: You keep an eye on him, you hear me?!
Butchie: I know, I know, ma. I got it covered: he's my fuckin' kid after all.
Cissy: (scathing with sarcasm) Really?? He's your son, huh? Guess I musta forgot that while I was busy fuckin' raisin' him the last thirteen goddam years!
Butchie: He's fourteen, ma.
Cissy: What-the-fuck-ever! Just hurry the fuck up and get down here, dipshit--I've gotta get Doris off my ass before she becomes permanently attached.
Butchie: (snorts) I'll be there in a fuckin' minute, okay? (he hangs up)
Cissy: (flips her phone shut) Today might not be a complete ass-fuck after all.
Mitch: (walks in the door) Okay, Cissy. They agreed to leave us alone if I promised to let them film me surfing later. What'd Doris say?
Cissy: That she wants her fuckin' money...what else, Ghandi?
Mitch: I meant: how much do we owe her?
Cissy: Like five fuckin' grand...Butchie's bringing that John down here in a minute.
Mitch: Why?
Cissy: I'm gonna pimp him out. Make him give Doris sexual favors to work off our debt. (She grins)
Mitch: (shudders) Better him than me, I guess. (smiles) But, seriously, what for?
Cissy: Butchie says he fuckin' pulls money and shit out of thin air.
Mitch: How?
Cissy: Gee, I don't know Mitch...how the fuck is any of this craziness possible??!
Mitch: Good point. What? does it just appear in his hands or something?
Cissy: His pockets?
Mitch: Pockets, huh? Interesting...
Cissy: What the fuck is so "interesting" about that, Mitch? You'd prefer he pulled it right outta his ass?
Mitch: Give it a rest, huh? Just relax. If what Butchie said is true, you're about to get a huge weight lifted from your shoulders. Though, I have to say, I'm a little concerned about the ethics of accepting money for nothing.
Cissy: Jesus Fucking Christ, Shit-for-brains!!! For one: the weight is being lifted from OUR shoulders--remember: this is OUR business; just 'cause you're barely fuckin' here don't mean the debt ain't yours too. And fuck, fuck, fuck your "ethics of accepting money for nothing." (shaking her head) What the fuck?
Mitch: I'm just saying...
Cissy: That's the goddam problem: you're always "just saying": it's been a fuckin' lifetime since you actually fuckin' DID something instead of just fuckin' "meditating on it".
Mitch: Maybe us spending the day together wasn't such a good idea...
Cissy: Shut the fuck up and get over here.
Mitch: Fuck you. (sits down next to her on the couch) What?
Cissy: You hungry?
Mitch: I could eat.
Cissy: What sounds good?
Mitch: Sushi...maybe a lettuce wrap.
Cissy: Fuck that! I need something that walked the earth; that bled.
Mitch: You know I don't eat red meat, Cissy. The cattle are injected with all those chemicals.
Cissy: Yeah, like raw fish isn't loaded with mercury and traces of the fuckin' sludge that gets dumped into the ocean.
- Walkara
-------------------
(Bill pulls into the VFW. Zippy and Her ladyship share a cage, seat-belted in the passenger's seat)
Bill: (listening) Would you two PLEASE shut. the. fuck. UP! Jesus Bleedin' Christ!!! It's like being locked in a goddam closet with Cissy and Mitch, the way you two feather-fucks fight! (listening) Gimme a goddam break! I'm not even gonna validate this bullshit with a response. (Pause) Nope...not listening. (gritting his teeth through another round of accusations and name-calling) That's IT! That's it. I'm done. (he opens the truck door and gets out) If you two haven't worked your fuckin' problems out by the time I come back, I'm turning this truck around and taking the both of ya straight home--and you can sit in your shit-smelling cages for the rest of the goddam day without any fucking birdseed! Do you understand?! (he slams the door without waiting for a response, and walks inside)
Ernie: (recognizing Bill) I'll be damned: Bill Jacks! How the hell ya been?
Bill: Morning Ernie. I'm just fine. You?
Ernie: I can't complain...I was sorry to hear about your wife: a damn fine woman. Very kind. I spoke to her on several occasions at the supermarket. She was a real sweetheart.
Bill: (uncomfortable) Yep...my Lo was one of a kind. (he lowers his head and rubs his eyes beneath his glasses, checking for tears) ...anyway, I'm lookin' for Pothead Joe; you seen him around?
Ernie: Not today. He in trouble?
Bill: No. I'm helping him find someone. (Bill sits down on a bar stool)
Ernie: Anything I can help with?
Bill: I dunno. Joe said he'd meet me here this morning. Guess I'll just wait 'till he gets here.
Ernie: Can I get you something to drink while you wait?
Bill: It's not even noon yet! Do I look like some kind of goddam lush to you Ernie? (to himself) Jesus! Drinkin' before noon--what's next: hotboxing Joe's van? Followin' that fuckin' degenerate Hawaiian around the parking lot of Butchie's fuckin' rathole?
Ernie: Sorry, Bill. Guess I just assume any man walking into a bar is lookin' to get shit-faced.
Bill: Fuck it: give me a whiskey and water--make it a double.
Ernie: You sure about that?
Bill: I just fuckin' asked for it, didn't I? Jesus-fuck! He wants me to have a drink until I fuckin' want one!
Ernie: (making Bill's drink) So...ah...Bill. I thought I heard you retired. (he hands Bill the drink)
Bill: Fuckin' mandatory retirement! I'm in my goddam prime--and that shit-bird, Clark, forces me into retirement. Fuckin' desk jockey! (he swallows the drink in one gulp) Gimme another.
Ernie: You sure about that, Bill?
Bill: Fuck, yes: I'm sure. Don't ask me that again!
Ernie: Okay... (he fixes another and sets it in front of Bill) I hope you're not drinking on an empty stomach, Bill.
Bill: (Bill swallows half his drink and sets the rest down) I'm on a fuckin' diet, okay?! Goddam busy-bodies always wanna know every fuckin' detail. (he finishes his drink) One more, Ernie.
Ernie: Comin' right up, Bill.
(An hour passes, still no sign of Joe)
Bill:...they just neverrr fuckinnnn' stopppp fuckin' sqwakin'--but, Zzip...Zzip'sss a good birrrd...fffuckin' saaved the goddam kid...(he holds his empty highball glass upside down and, looks inside) Empty. It's all fffuckin' emmmpty, Ern. Loisss..................--heyyy!!! fill 'er up! (holds his empty glass out)
Ernie: You're done, Bill. I shoulda cut you off three drinks ago. Anymore about talking parrots, resurrections, or retarded aliens and I'm calling a damn doctor.
Bill: My head isssspinnin'....ugh....where's the shitter? (he gets up and stumbles in the direction Ernie points. When he reaches a door, he pushes it open and walks inside, enters a stall, sinks to the floor and falls asleep.)
- Walkara
-------------------
(Barry lies in bed clutching his covers tightly around his neck. Tears are visible at the corners of his eyes. He turns his head to the side and see?s Teddy lying propped against the pillow to his right.)
Barry: (staring at the ceiling) I think I will stay in bed today Teddy. I have had, once again, that sad dream.
(John stands at the waters edge seen through Barry?s living room windows)
John: You stare me down stares Barry down... Justice must be served. I think I will stay in bed today Teddy.
- SpiritontheWater
-------------------
[In her bedroom Emma seems almost in a trance as she stares at her computer screen. Luke exits the bathroom wearing a towel.]
Emma: You got some excellent footage of the Yosts surfing yesterday.
Luke: [sits on the bed] Well that is damn amazing since I don?t know why we were there. Are you now prepared to tell me what your angle is?
Emma: I am not sure, but I think it somehow all ties in with Butchie?s new student, John.
Luke: You mean Rain Man? Why? When you were talking with him last night did he tell you the exact number of grains of sand on the beach?
Emma: [Laughs] He isn't an idiot; he is just different. He has a difficult time communicating with anyone. Anyways. Luke I can't explain it, but I get a feeling that this could be a big and huge story for me..for us.
Luke: You don't have any other facts? You are just going on a feeling? That doesn't sound like you Emma. Usually you approach something in a more slow and methodical fashion.
Emma: Oh I don't know. [She straddles his lap] I wasn't slow or logical when I seduced you after only knowing you for two days. Look at how well that turned out.
Luke: Hmmm. [Smiles] Maybe this will all work out. [Pause] What are you going to tell Fields?
Emma: I am telling Mr. Steve Fields as little as possible. He never wanted to hire a woman in the first place. I can't believe that people with his narrow views about women and ethnic groups still even exist today, let alone work in the news business. Do you know what that bigot said to??
Luke: Whoa! Sorry I didn't mean to ruin the mood.
Emma: [Gets off his lap] It doesn't matter. Sorry baby I really don't even have time for a quickie. I was supposed to meet Cass 10 minutes ago. [Gives him a kiss] See you in the office in about an hour. [She leaves]
- theshriek
-------------------
(Tina is still sitting at the table she shared with Linc when a balding man with a horseshoe mustache in sun glasses and carrying an orange backpack walks into the cafe and sits down opposite her.)
(playing in the background
Tina: What took you so long, Les? You're almost an hour late.
Les: Sorry. An auditions went longer than expected.
Tina: Meaning some poor girl is feeling pretty damn sore right about now.
Les: (he smiles, flashing his teeth) All in a day's work. (he pulls out a cigarette, lights it, inhales then exhales a cloud in Tina's face.)
Jerri: (from behind the bar) You can't fuckin' smoke in here! (she marches over to the table, rips the cigarette out of his fingers and throws it Linc's abandoned water glass) You daft fuckin' git! (she walks back to her place behind the bar)
Les: Hey! That was my last fucking cigarette! (looks at Tina) Who does that fuckin' cunt think she is?
Tina: (shrinking him with her eyes) The owner. Look, did you come here to talk business or start trouble?
Les: Business. (he reaches into his backpack, pulls out a folder and sets it on the table in front of her) It's all outlined in there. I think you'll be more than happy with our offer. You could be the next Jenna, babe: she's getting old and wrinkled; guys are ready for some fresh meat.
Tina: I told you: I'm NOT performing again under ANY circumstances. I thought we had an understanding, Leslie.
Les: There's a clause in the contract that leaves room for renegotiation should you change you mind about that, but it's basically a production deal. Have Rafe give it a look; he'll tell you how generous our offer is. We want you Tina, you've got the look; the profile: you can take this company mainstream without ever having to take your clothes off again, if that's what you want--just by putting your name of the product: your brand. And the best part is, if you change your mind about fucking, we can bill it as a comeback and then just watch the money roll in.
Tina: I'm not fucking changing my mind, okay? I just need to make a living--and someone needs to look out for these girls that fuckers like you chew up and spit out.
Les: I'm not fuckin' here to listen to your fucking crisis of conscience: this is a business, Tina. Remember? A business that made you a shit-load of easy money for very little work. Don't bite the hand that feeds, babe. It's not nice.
Tina: (She pushes the folder across the table, toward him) You know what? I think I've made-up my mind. Fuck this! and fuck you, Leslie. Linc was right: this was a Bad Idea. I should've trusted his instincts.
Les: "Linc was right"?? Who? Linc Stark? The Stinkweed asshole that had his people call-up and request 'Tina Blake' "meet" him in I.B., but asked that we keep you out of the loop?
Tina: What the fuck are talking about? How do you know Linc Stark?
Les: He's a long-time client of Arthur Lawrence, over at Spitshine Inc. One of his "people" called and requested you by name but told us not to let you know you were requested by the client. What was that you were saying about 'trust' again?
Tina: Fuck off, Les! (she gathers her things to leave)
Les: Hey! Hey, c'mon Tina. Sit back down.
Tina: Go fuck yourself!
Les: (He grabs her wrist, just as she's about the walk away and puts the folder in her hand) Don't be stupid, Tina: take it. Think it over. Remember that we take care of our own, 'cause the outside world doesn't want the leftovers. They don't want their fantasy fucks anywhere but in a one-night stand or on-screen getting power-fucked and then back under the mattress. (His voice slithers) Remember that, babe. (He lets go of her hand, which she jerks away, still clutching the folder)
(Tina gives him a brutal but wounded look, puts the folder in her purse and walks out)
Les: (calling after her) See you soon!
- Walkara
-------------------
(Butchie throws the door to Room F open and walks out into the courtyard. Ramon and his cousins are hard at work at various renovations. Shaun skates the pool. Palaka stand at the pool's edge, right above the '4', arms folded. John is at his side.)
Butchie: Morning, Ramon! (He hold his hand out)
Ramon: Buenos diaz, Butchie. You surfing today?
Butchie: Maybe later. I dunno. Where's Barry?
Ramon: He called in, said he might not be in today. I think he's having one of his "dark days". Dickstein said he might go over there and try to get him out of bed. I told him to take the Doctor. Barry likes the doctor.
Butchie: Who don't like the fuckin', Doc? ...Well, I'll let ya fuckin' get back to work then, lazy ass. (He curls his mouth into a sarcastic smile) Later, Ramon.
Ramon: Adios, Butchie. (He goes back over to the other workers)
Butchie: (approaching the pool) Hey! Shaunie!
Shaun: (he jumps out of the pool and skates to meet Butchie) Yeah, dad?
Butchie: John and me need to go down to the shop and help your gram out for a minute. You wanna go?
Shaun: (hops off his board and flips it into his hand) I'm waiting for some of the guys to show up. We're gonna head down to the beach.
Butchie: You gonna fuckin' get wet?
Shaun: Umm...we're meeting some...'people' there.
Butchie: 'People', huh? I gotcha, buddy. "People" bein' code for chicks, right?
Shaun: (embarrassed) Anyways...
Butchie: (laughs) Shiiit, pal: you're as red as a pecker head. No reason to get all fuckin' shy around the old man. Back in the day, I was up to my fuckin' implants in pussy, bro. Just try not to break too many fuckin' hearts like me. (He puts his right hand on Shaun's shoulder and grins)
Shaun: (awkward) Whatever, dad. (He turns to walk off, pauses, and turns back around) Hey...dad, can I ask you something?
Butchie: (puts his other hand on Shaun's free shoulder) Anything, bud.
Shaun: How can you tell if a girl likes you?
Butchie: Good fuckin' question! It depends on the chick, I guess. Some come on so strong, it'll turn you off; and some'll treat ya like shit, ingore ya, and argue with everything ya fuckin' say.
Shaun: How'd you know mom liked you?
Butchie: Fuck...I'm not sure she did at first. Some people just grow on ya, I guess.
Shaun: Did you like her at first?
Butchie: Hell yeah! There's a lot to like, sport. Your ma always had a trail of dudes following her around.
Shaun: What'd you do to get her attention?
Buchie: Fuckin' kept bumping into her (makes quoation marks with his fingers) "on accident" until I could think of somethin' to fuckin' say. She made me work for it. Like I said, at the time, I was swimmin' in groupies. I didn't even have to try, so your ma really stood out. You gotta watch out fer that shit, Shaun. Ain't no harm in havin' a little fun, but people'll try to use you; that's why it's so fuckin' important to listen to the people that care about ya; the ones you can fuckin' trust. I bought into my own bullshit, pal. Don't make the same fuckin' mistake as me, okay?
Shaun: I won't, dad. (He hops on his board and skates back to the pool.)
Butchie: (to himself)I know you won't, son. You've gotta good fuckin' head on your shoulders, considerin'... (He yells to Palaka) Hey, Ice Cream Man! Keep an eye on my boy, huh?
Palaka: (yelling back) Roger, Butchie! And, uh, just call me Palaka: my days of slingin' are at an end, now being gainfully employed in the Security business.
Butchie: Whatever, Palaka.
(John walks over)
Butchie: What's up, my man?
John: Butchie hurt my tit.
Butchie: I'm sorry about that, bro. But you gotta learn when to keep your mouth shut.
John: "Where nothing comes up to the top. Everything stays down where it's wounded and comes to a permanent stop."
Butchie: Okayyy...
John: Cissy is ashamed of her flooring. She needs a bonus before Doris stares her down.
Butchie: That's exactly fuckin' right, braugh. You wanna cruise over to the shop with me?
John: I'll confirm it, Trooper.
Butchie: Fuckin' A! Let's take the van. I think Linc was pissed we took the fuckin' Camino home last night since he doesn't have a fuckin' car, so I'll leave it here for him.
(They walk over to Butchie's VW van. Butchie opens the passenger door for John and helps him put his seatbelt on, then walks around to the driver's side and gets in)
John: Tina gives Linc a nut-nudge. Cass is in my eyes. Where's Cass, Butchie?
Butchie: Fuck if I know, John. Last I saw, she was driving off in that fuckin' sweet-ass Porche of hers. (Butchie turns the ignition, and puts the van in reverse)
John: I like Cass, Butchie.
Butchie: What's not to like, John: she's a hot, little, blond. (He puts the car in drive and pulls out of the parkinglot, waving at Shaun and Palaka as he passes the empty pool)
John: Linc has to eat Cass' crow.
Butchie: That doesn't sound good.
John: It's all good, Butchie. Everbody dumps out.
- Walkara
-------------------
(In Barry's bedroom the bed is now neatly made. The living room is empty except for a large collection of sea shells neatly displayed on the shelves above the bar. The gently breaking surf is seen through the large plate glass windows)
John: (riding with Butchie) Barry is staying in bed today.
Butchie: Yeah that's what I heard. I'm sure Ramon's crew don't mind one fuckin' bit that he's gone either.
John: Barry is gone.
- SpiritontheWater
-------------------
(Linc and Jake exit the hotel conference room with smiles on their faces. Behind them, several balding men in various stages of decline and a very uptight-looking woman remain seated.)
Linc: Cass saved your ass. That fuckin' YouTube shit is Huge.
Jake: I was so sure I was fucked.
Linc: (sarcastically) No shit?
(They continue walking to the Hotel exit.)
Jake: They didn't even bat an eye when I told 'em we needed to double the budget.
Linc: Don't get too fuckin' excited about that. We're gonna funnel as much of that into "Clean Water Now" as possible.
Jake: Yeah, yeah--hey! You wanna go get a drink to celebrate?
Linc: Too early. Plus, I've gotta go pick Tina up at the Internet Cafe. I've got her car.
Jake: Where's your car?
Linc: Which one? The Navigator's in the fuckin' shop. Remember? All the others are still in the garage back in Huntington. I'll bring 'em over when I find a place here. The Hotel is fine for now.
Jake: What about the El Camino?
Linc: Butchie took it last night. Since John paid for it, guess he figures it's communal property.
(They reach their cars, parked next to each other)
Jake: Well...I'm gonna go get drunk and laid, dude.
Linc: Right on. I'll call you tomorrow and we'll make sure things are runnin' on schedule--and we should probably run everything by Mitch too.
Jake: (Getting into his car) (sarcastically) That outta be buckets of fun. Later, Linc.
(Linc waves and gets into Tina's car. A smile creeps across his face, realizing that he is completely happy and filled with hope in the moment. He breathes it in, and starts the car, eager to give Tina a kiss.)
(Linc's phone rings; the ring is the beginning of Dylan's "Girl From The North Country".)
Linc (turns the car off) Hey, Cass. I've got good news for you.
Cass: (distant) What?
Linc: Six of the videos you posted on YouTube are already in the most viewed videos of all time. I'm talking millions of hits in just a few days. I guess it's got everyone buzzing about the expo. Anyway, Stinkweed is dying to get you on their payroll--
Cass: --I'll freelance, but I'm not going to be anyone's "employee".
Linc: Which is why I told 'em you only worked on a job-by-job basis. Basically, they wanna pay you to film the expo; you can hand-pick a crew and everything. They asked if maybe we could find an on-camera person for some of the segments, to narrate, interview people, ect. How 'bout that woman I saw you with yesterday?
Cass: (encouraged) Yeah...this could work. I'll call Emma--SHIT! Oh, shit: I'm supposed to be meeting her in like ten minutes. I better get over there.
Linc: Where are you?
Cass: In my hotel room.
Linc: Okay, well...I'll get in touch with you later and we can negotiate the specifics of your contract with Jake.
Cass: Bye. (she hangs up)
(Linc starts the car again and heads to the Internet Cafe)
- Walkara
-------------------
(Dickstein and Dr. Smith stand on Barry's porch)
Dr. Smith: He doesn't seem to be home.
Dickstein: Or he's not answering...I can't imagine where he is.
Dr. Smith: Perhaps he just needs a little break. We all must move at our own pace if we expect to get anywhere.
Dickstein: That's a valid point--but there are pressing issues of great importance, financial and otherwise, that need addressing. His visions are needed.
Dr. Smith: Maybe he followed the stickmen into the spiral.
Dickstein: Pardon me for saying so, but you're speaking nonsense now, Dr. Smith.
Dr. Smith: Not an uncommon turn of events, I suspect, for anyone who has seen Cincinnati.
Dickstein: Ohio?
Dr. Smith: I am speaking of a city of a million hills: curvatures in matter; wrinkles in time; squiggles in space. Not The City of the Seven Hills, home of The Reds.
Dickstein: I see. Though I can't say I entirely understand.
Dr. Smith: Nor I. Maybe that's the point. (turns around) I propose we go back to The Snug Harbor and stand vigil until Barry returns from his dance with the Silver Surfer.
Meyer: Agreed.
(They go back to Meyer's car, get in, and leave)
- Walkara
-------------------
(Freddy wakes up and sits on the edge of his bed for a moment. Looking up he gets up and walks over to the sliding door, he reaches over and pulls the cord to open the vertical blinds, he draws them all the way back and then steps outside. Looking around he watches Ramon as he directs some of his workers through the door of a vacant room. He hears Shaun shout as he flies out of the pool on his skateboard and sees Palaka in the pool. He walks over toward them.)
Palaka: (seeing Freddy enter the pool area) Top of the morning to you Boss! You gotta see this kid boss! He's one of a kind... I'm standin' here amazed!... Never seen anything like this before. Not even on T.V.!
Freddy: Yeah, good morning to the both of you. It's nice to see you, on this fine beautiful day. (to Shaun) nice moves you got there boy... People are gonna be lucky to see what you got to show 'em. They'll know they seen somethin' after watchin' you.
Shaun: Thanks Freddy.
Freddy: You're welcome... You deserve it.
Palaka: Ok.. What have you done with my employer...you teaser?
Freddy: That's funny Palaka.... You wanna go up to that Café and get a cup of coffee?
Palaka: (stares at Freddy and then begins a series of unfinished motions and utterances, stutters) suure boss...That sounds real good... you and me... in a sit down coffee shop...
Freddy: I'll buy you a Danish. (to Shaun) You don't need no baby sitter right?
Shaun: I'm cool
(Palaka hops out of the pool and follows Freddy down the driveway. Freddy stops and lets Palaka catch up and walks beside him as they turn out onto the sidewalk and walk toward the café.)
- SpiritontheWater
-------------------
(Clutching Teddy, Barry pulls his wallet out and hands the man a hundred dollar bill)
Barry: I simply do not see why I should be denied what I have denied myself far too many times. I deserve a good time as much as anyone. I will not stay in bed and cower in fear dreaming about lost love and beatings taken. Today, Mr. Cunningham gets what Mr. Cunningham needs!
Man: Through there.
Barry: Oh, yes, I'm sorry. (he turns and looks at a man standing behind him wearing a leather bikers jacket staring impatiently) No! Actually, I'm not sorry! I'm through being pushed down and shoved around! I am not sorry!
Man: (nodding sarcastically) That's great, we're all glad you're not sorry. But if you don't go inside I'm gonna be the next one pushing you down and shoving you around. Now move it!
Barry: Oh, very well (he walks through the tiny alcove and out into a lushly planted courtyard where a very good looking young man greets him eagerly)
- SpiritontheWater
-------------------
Young Man: Welcome to Sea World, we hope you enjoy your visit with us today! (The young man hands Barry a map of the park)
Barry: (beaming) Oh Teddy, I haven't been here in years. I am so excited! (he opens the map) Oh look, there's a guest appearance by Spider man and the Silver Surfer at two.
(The man in the ticket booth opens the door behind Barry)
Man: You forgot your change mister. (Barry takes the change without looking and stuffs it in his pocket.)
Barry: (Startled out of his trance like amazement) Thank you!... my good sir... your nobility rises in your honesty. I would have never missed it in my present state. (Barry shoves the money back in the hands of the ticket seller) Your reward.
- SpiritontheWater
-------------------
[Dickstein and Dr. Smith arrive back at the hotel. Smith goes to his room and Dickstein goes over to Ramon who is sweeping outside the office.]
Dickstein: No sign of Mr. Cunningham, Ramon.
Ramon: Has the bear gone with him?
Dickstein: It would appear so.
[Dickstein watches sweep for awhile.]
Dickstein: Ramon, I must confess to you that as the day of my mother's arrival approaches, the optimism is leaving my heart and is forming itself into a large ulcer in my stomach.
Ramon: Mylanta is good for an upset stomach.
Dickstein: [Smiles] Oh how I wished there were an over-the-counter solution for this situation.
Ramon: You think that the water is going to come to boil between your mother and your fiancee?
Dickstein: Ramon, the situation could turn into Old Faithful.
[Two trucks drive into the courtyard. Hostetler gets out of one and walks towards Ramon and Dickstein.]
Dickstein: It seems that the new flagpole has arrived.
Ramon: Barry is going to be very upset he wasn't here. He wanted to have a christening for it upon its immediate arrival.
- theshriek
-------------------
Sam: I'm looking for Mr. Cunningham.
Ramon: He's...out of range, at the moment. Can I give him a message?
Sam: Tell him to give me a call when he's ready. We can't very well move forward without him.
Meyer: Understood.
(Sam gets back in his truck and drives off, the other truck follows.)
- Walkara
-------------------
[Cass enters the Internet Café and approaches the counter.]
Cass: [To Jerri] Hello again. Please may I have an espresso this morning?
[Emma comes running in.]
Emma: Sorry I am late. [To Jerri] A double latte please.
Cass: I just got here myself.
[They go and sit down at the table by the window.]
Emma: This morning I looked at the some of the footage Luke took yesterday. He got some real interesting visuals.
Cass: That's great. Guess who called me as I was leaving my hotel room?
Emma: [In a teasing voice] Luke Perry?
Cass: [She rolls her eyes] No, Linc Stark. He said that Stinkweed wants me to film the expo.
Emma: What a wonderful opportunity for you Cass.
Cass: I am not the only one with an opportunity. Linc said that Stinkweed wants an on-camera person for narration and interviews. It would be freelance. I will be meeting with Linc to iron out the other details, but what do you think so far?
Emma: Oh I'm with you. [Pause] Do you think you might need another videographer as well?
Cass: [Hesitating] It would be great to have another set of eyes, but I will know more the kind of staff I will need after I talk again to Linc.
Emma: I cannot wait to start.
- theshriek
-------------------
(Butchie parks in front of the Surf Shop, gets out of the van, walks around and lets John out. Just as he's about to go inside, he spots Tina, across the street at the internet cafe)
Butchie: Hey, John, you go on in and fuckin' give Cissy what she wants, okay? Then you wait for me--I'll be back in a fuckin' minute.
John: Okay, Butchie. Get rid of Tina's unsightly bulge?
Butchie: What? No! I'm just gonna fuckin' talk to her, John. (shakes his head and struts across the street)
(Tina leans against the side of the Internet Cafe, smoking a cigarette. Butchie approaches and leans next to her against the wall; their arms almost touching)
Butchie: Hey.
Tina: (takes a drag) Hey.
Butchie: So...whatcha doin'?
Tina: Nuthin'. (She exhales)
Butchie: When'd you start smokin'?
Tina: I didn't. Not really. I keep a pack in my purse for emergencies.
Butchie: What's the fuckin' emergency?
Tina: There's not one.
Butchie: (confused) What's the fuckin' matter then?
Tina: Don't worry about it.
Butchie: (grins at her, then bumps his shoulder against hers) I think Shaunie's got a fuckin' crush on some chick named Melanie.
Tina: Who's Melanie?
Butchie: Fuck if I know...John just said he wanted to fuckin' bone her.
Tina: What?! He's way too young for that. (she flicks her cigarette to the ground)
Butchie: Shit...I was fourteen when I first got my dick wet. It ain't that fuckin' young.
Tina: Yeah? Look how well that worked out. You need to have a talk with him, Butchie.
Butchie: Already fuckin' did. (smiles with pride) Gave him pointers and everything.
Tina: That's not what I meant--you need to make him understand how serious it is--that there's no rush.
Butchie: How old were you, when you lost your cherry?
Tina: (looks away) Have you seen Linc?
Butchie: Nope. (watching Tina) I thought you two were connected at the fuckin' hip.
Tina: (her eyes well) Fuck him!
Butchie: Fucked ya over already, huh? That was fast.
Tina: I just found out that he called the agency and requested 'Tina Blake'--but he told me that it was a complete coincidence, and pretended not to know who I was. He said he never even watched porn, 'cause then he wouldn't do anything else.
Butchie: That's the Linc I know. I can't fuckin' believe you bought that shit. Every fuckin' guy in America knows who the fuck you are.
Tina: ...I'm such a fucking moron. (Tears run down her face)
Butchie: (uncomfortable with crying women) Oh...hey...ah..c'mere (He puts his arms around her and hugs her, resting his chin on her head) It's okay. It'll be okay. Maybe Linc has a good fuckin' excuse.
Tina: (head pressed against Butchie's Chest) Why would he lie about that? He was probably just using me to get to Shaun.
Butchie: Maybe....but who fuckin' knows? Men lie about stupid shit. Sometimes we just fuckin' wanna avoid getting our balls busted by the ladies. Sometimes we fuckin' lie for no good reason--just to make things easier. But we usually fuckin' feel guilty about it later. (He gives Tina a squeeze, then puts his hands on her shoulders and looks at her) I've seen how Linc looks at ya (He feels a sudden rush of contempt for Linc but shakes it off), and ya can't fuckin' fake that. Just give him a chance to explain before ya get all fuckin' worked up, okay?
Tina: Okay. (She leans into Butchie, one hand in front of her, resting on his chest; she lifts the other and puts in on his cheek, feeling his scruff on her fingers.) Thanks.
(Butchie lets his face melt in her palm, drawing her even closer. They look into each other's eyes and the memories swell. The heat, the passion between them, flickers. Almost kissing, Tina pulls back and Butchie puts his head down and his hands in his pockets, then looks back up, as if absorbing the intensity, containing it. Tina resumes her place, leaning against the wall; she sighs and pulls the folder from her purse, then leafs through it)
Butchie: (trying to break the ice)What's that?
Tina: Nuthin'.
Butchie: (gives her That Look) C'mon.
Tina: Promise you won't freak out
(Butchie nods)
Tina: It's a contract from the Agency.
Butchie: (freaking out) What the fuck?! I thought you were fuckin' "gettin' out of the business"!
Tina: I am. It's a production deal. They wanna make me a name brand, give me producer credits and make films under my banner--and they want me to help recruit 'new talent.'
Butchie: Yeah right! They only thing those vampires want is your fuckin' body.
Tina: Fuck you! God! Just when I thought you might not be the biggest cocksucker on Earth...I should've known you'd feel the same as Linc.
Butchie: Good for fuckin' Linc then! You're flesh is all THEY fuckin' want. You really want a bunch of jerk-offs spitting milk-babies all over ya for the rest of your fuckin' life? Huh? Do you really wanna be the one to lure damaged girls into the wonderful fuckin' world of circle jerks and double penetrations?
Tina: When you put it that way...(she rolls her eyes) But you're such a hypocrite! Don't try to act like you don't watch porn.
Butchie: Sure I do, but I don't fuckin' need it. I like a hot piece of ass and a nice rack as much as the next dude, but I ain't gonna fuckin' pay for it. I don't fuckin' spend my day surfing the goddam interweb, or whatever, for monster shots. I like real women.
Tina: You're still a hypocrite. (She puts the folder back in her purse and slings it around her shoulder, so that it's under her arm, right between she and Butchie) Anyway, I never fucking said I was taking the job, just that I'm thinking it over.
Butchie: Whatever. (He bumps shoulders with her again, and slips something out of her purse at the same time.) I'm just tryin' to fuckin' look out for ya. (He slides something in his back pocket, unnoticed.)
(Linc pulls into the parking lot, and parks in the empty space adjacent to where Tina and Butchie stand. He gets out and walks to them. Tina meets him halfway. Butchie keeps his head down, eavesdropping)
Tina: When the fuck were you gonna tell me you requested me from the agency, Mr. "I never watch porn 'cause that's all I'd ever do."??!!
Linc: What?? (turns pale)
Tina: You heard me! (She shoves him) Why the fuck did you lie to me?!
Linc: (grabs her arm, looking like a deer in the headlights) I'm sorry! I'm so fuckin' sorry, babe! I...I meant to tell ya, but I knew it would fuck shit up. I was just gaining your trust and I didn't wanna lose it--I was in a bad spot: Stinkweed was breathing down my neck, the family was freezing me out, and I thought, you know, that maybe I could make a deal with you. But then I met you and everything changed. You have to believe me, Tina! I'm fucking in love with you. I was gonna come clean, but I kept putting it off--I'm sorry.
Tina: Fuck off! (looks him in the eye) But I believe you. (surprising herself) I just don't think I can trust you. I...I wanna be with you, Linc, but I need a break to figure everything out. (She pushes past him, rips her keys from his hand, and gets in her car)
Linc: (leaning over her in the car)I'm so fuckin' sorry, Tina. Just give me the chance to make it up to you. Please.
Tina: Maybe later...right now, I just want some space, okay? (she starts the car)
Linc:: Okay, okay. I understand. (He put his hand on her shoulder) Can I call you later?
Tina: I don't know...(She pulls out and drives off)
Butchie: (wandering back to Linc) Looks like somebody's in the fuckin' doghouse.
Linc: No shit! Fuck me! I'm so fucked, bro.
Butchie: Yeah, it don't look like you'll be burying the fuckin' bone anytime soon. (He laughs)
Linc: Fuck me: she's pissed.
Butchie: Don't fuckin' sweat it too much, dude. She ain't the type to hold a grudge too fuckin' long. She'll get over it--just don't fuck with her again, else you'll have to fuckin' answer to me. (Butchie folds his arms and gives Linc a stern look for emphasis)
Linc: (smiles at Butchie) Understood.
Butchie: (pulls the rolled-up folder outta his back pocket and offer it to Linc) Here.
Linc: What's this? (He examines it) Holy shit! This is Tina's fuckin' contract! How the hell did you get a hold of this?
Butchie: (beaming with pride) Lifted it right the fuck outta her purse.
Linc: Nice work, my man! (he offers Butchie his hand) I told her that was a bad idea.
Butchie: (taking Linc's hand) Don't fuckin' mention it: we're together on this. I ain't gonna just sit here and let her piss herself away all over again.
(They bump knuckles)
Linc: Glad we're on the same team.
Butchie: Cool...well, I gotta run 'cross the street and get John.
Linc: Mind if I tag along? I gotta talk to your old man anyway.
Butchie: Let's go.
(Butchie swaggers across the street. Linc follows)
- Walkara
-------------------
(John walks into the surf shop. He pauses at the entrance. Mitch gets up and walks over to him.)
Mitch: (nods his head acknowledging John) You're here.
John: The joker in the deck.
Mitch: Yeah...well, Cissy's over on the couch. (Mitch walks outside and goes over to talk to Ted, the bicycle guy)
Cissy: (facing the other way on the couch, she raises her hand in the air, and waves him over) Over here, dickless! (she sits up straight)
John: (walks over and stands right in front of Cissy) Turn out your pockets. (He sits down by Cissy) What do you want, Cissy Yost?
Cissy: (Pulls his jacket, forcing him down on his knees at eye level with her) Fifty grand outta do it. (She reaches into his pockets and pulls her hands out with a wad of crisp bills) Holy fuckin' shit! (She starts counting) Five thousand, two hundred and fifty dollars, on the fuckin' nose!--hey! I that's not what I fuckin' asked for?! What the fuck?!(She smiles at John) Oh well, I guess that'll fuckin' do. Thanks Spock! We're gonna get along just fine.
John: Let's be adult about our possessions.
Cissy: Sounds like a fuckin' plan. You can go the fuck back to Butchie now. (She dismisses him)
John: (not moving, he gives her a confused look) Just don't pull your left nut out.
Cissy: Thanks, Major Tom: I'll try to remember that and--
John: --Don't get hit by a bus? (He grins, appearing proud of himself)
Cissy: Something like that.
- Walkara
-------------------
(Dr. Smith walks down the alley away from the Snug Harbor, he stops and smells the roses at Rosa?s house but she is not there. He proceeds and as he approaches the clinic he sees a man working on the sign on the window. Dr. Smith approaches the man)
Dr. Smith: Good morning, I am Dr. Smith, did I order a change to this sign?
Sign Man: Didn't you? I got this work order in my box is all I know. I just got one last small line to finish up, supposed to go down here in this corner (he looks over at his works order lying on the ground) it says ?over the phone number and under the stickmen?. Looks good huh?
Dr. Smith: California Free Clinic? I guess so, Dispensario, yes that I recall somehow. What is the last line you have?
Sign Man: (Pulls out the last strip of vinyl lettering and pulls off the cover strip showing it to the Doctor) This here.
Dr. Smith: (reads aloud) Substance Abuse Support Group- Thursdays 8pm... Well, that is news to me.
Sign Man: I don't have to put it up.
Dr. Smith: No, Go ahead and finish. I am sure it is just another instance of something about to happen I just have yet to be let in on.
Sign Man: (gives the Doctor a questioning look and shrugs his shoulders) As you will!
(the sign man starts on placing the final lettering as Dr. Smith unlocks the door and goes inside. He turns and watches as the sign man carefully aligns the strip of lettering and adheres them to the glass, finishing with a tool to smooth out any bubbles. The man steps back and smiles, then at the Doctor who nods approval. The doctor hears the toilet flush down the hall and turns surprised. He starts to walk down the hall when the door opens and Adam steps out)
Dr. Smith: (relieved) Oh, Adam, it's you... You gave me a start.
Adam: Sorry Doc, I had to go, still got that...
Dr. Smith: How did you get in?
Adam: Door was open when I came by with Noah this morning. I locked it for you, then caught some zees. Noah said he didn't think you'd mind. I think I needs some more of that one pill you gave me.
Dr. Smith: Noah, The man on the beach...
Adam: Yeah, He's my...a friend... of my moms.... How'd you know he was on the beach?
Dr. Smith: (shakes his head and motions for Adam to go in the exam room) Oh, I heard he was down by the sloughs...from somebody... But that is not important, let's have a look at you. (Adam hops up on the exam table and Dr. Smith takes his temperature) Adam I know about what happened to your mom, and I am very sorry you have had to go through such a nightmare... I can't imagine...
Adam: (his eyes fill with tears as he turns his head away) I was gonna tell you.
Dr. Smith: (places his hand on Adams head and gently turns it toward him) You don't have to worry or be afraid. I will help you in every way I can. (he removes the thermometer) as I suspected your fever has not subsided.
Adam: You gonna call the social worker? Cause I don't like that lady, she tried to get me in the hospital and that's why I took off.
Dr. Smith: (places some Tylenol in Adams hand and fills a cup with water) No, I am not, I gave that some thought, but decided I would talk to you first. But given your illness, I think we need to discuss having you live somewhere other than on the cold beach at night.
Adam: Oh, that was just the last couple of nights, and I wasn't cold, you should have seen the bongfire we built! It was huge! (he throws his arms up).
Dr. Smith: You mean Bonfire.
Adam: (smiling) Yeah right... but Noah has an apartment up on palm and he said we?d be staying there for a few days until I get better... he takes good care of me... I don't wanna go no place else.
Dr. Smith: (looks down to look Adam in the eye reassuringly) That is fine Adam. I am glad to hear you will be indoors. You must promise me though that you will have Noah come talk to me today. I need to put you on some antibiotics and it is extremely important that an adult administers this to you so there are no mistakes. This is something very important if you want to keep from getting much sicker than you are.
Adam: (his face brightens) Oh yeah, that's cool Doc, Noah's a real adult, he knows about that stuff. He said he'd talk to you after he got some stuff done he had to do this morning.
Dr. Smith: Very well then, I have a couple other medications I want to give you and then I would like you to get some rest. (he hands Adam a few more pills which he retrieves from a cabinet and gives him another cup of water). You can continue to sleep on the sofa in my office.
Adam: Well, I kind of promised my friends that I'd meet them at the pier. I promise I won't do nothin' but sit on the beach, we're just gonna hang.
Dr. Smith: (thinks for a moment) Well, ok, but just sitting, no skateboarding or running around. You are not going to recover if you do not follow my advice. And you'll come back here this afternoon?
Adam: You got it Doc, I'm feeling better already!
Dr. Smith: Yes, well I'm sure you are, just remember those effects are only temporary, we have only begun to treat the source of the problem.
(Adam hops off the examination table and heads down the hall to the door. Dr. Smith watches him as he stops before opening the door. He turns and looks back at Dr. Smith)
Adam: (smiling and pointing at the window) Noah's gonna tell me the story of California, when it was an island full of beautiful amazon women. I can't wait for that one!
(Dr. Smith laughs as Adam opens the door and darts off across the street. The door opens and a young Mexican couple walk in)
- SpiritontheWater
-------------------
Joe: Bill! Bill, wake the hell up!
(Bill stirs. He opens his eyes, and, after everything comes back into focus, he sees Joe, Ernie, and Magdalena hovering over him.)
Bill: Where the hell am I? (He looks around)
Ernie: The ladies room.
Bill: (embarrassed) How the hell'd I get in here?
Ernie: I saw you wander in, but got distracted in the back. I figured you took a powder until Joe's lady-friend found you keeled over in here.
Bill: Oh...(looks around him) it's fuckin' nice in here. So clean it doesn't even bother me to be lying on the goddam floor. (struggles to his feet, helped by Joe and Ernie) Owww! My fucking head!
Joe: (smiling, to Magdalena) Fuckin' lightweight.
Bill: Fuck you, stonehenge! Back in the day, I could drink the lot of ya under the goddam table. But excuse me for letting my fucking tolerance for the juice decline while I was busy nursing my dying wife then trying to move on despite Mandatory Fucking Retirement in the face of this once-great country's slide into godlessness on the road to fuckin' Hell!!! (suddenly remembers leaving Zip and Her Ladyship in the car)--JESUS CHRIST!!! MY GODDAM BIRDS!!!! (Bill pushes past Joe, Mags, and Ernie, and runs out of the VFW)
(Outside, Bill rushes to his truck. When he gets within sights of it, he freezes in terror, seeing that the passenger's side door is wide open. He pauses, overcome with panic for a few seconds, before continuing over to the opened door)
Bill: (reaching the truck, Bill is gripped with terror to find that the birds and birdcage are missing) FUCK!!! Fuck, fuck, fuck...goddam, motherfucking, cunt-smelling, cocksucking, assholes!!! Fucking FUCK!
(Bill starts pacing nervously, cursing under his breath. Joe and Magdalena, having followed him outside, stand a few feet away, watching the meltdown.)
Bill: Dear god! Sweet Jesus! Hold on, Zip! Hold on: I'm comin' for ya. (Bill gets in his truck and starts it)
Joe: Wait Bill! Where the hell ya goin'? Shouldn't ya be 'investigatin' the scene' or some shit?
Bill: Yeah, yeah: that's right. (turns the truck off and gets out. Intending to inspect the area, Bill paces back and forth, still cussing to himself) Fuckin' degenerate shit-heels! When I find the cocksucker that did this, I'm gonna to throttle his goddam head right the fuck off!
Joe: I shy away from it in principle, but maybe we better call the proper goddam authorities. Them birds gotta be worth somethin' right? Report a goddam theft.
Bill: You just shut the fuck up, Cheech! I don't need those goddam rookies gettin' in my fuckin' way, goddamit! Just bite your goddam tongue, unless you're gonna wag it in service of finding my goddam birds! (Bill shakes his fists at the sky) Are you happy? Huh? I bet you're getting a big goddam kick outta this, aren't ya? Fuckin' sadist! (walks back to his truck)I'll find ya, Zip! (He looks at Joe) Start lookin' for clues, dammit!
Joe: Okay (He looks at Magdalena) You mind?
Magdalena: Of course not, Joe. We must help Bill find his birds after all he's done for us.
Joe: (under his breath) He ain't done shit yet. (He starts walking around the parking-lot, scanning the area with his eyes.)
Bill: Jesus Christ! This is fuckin' bullshit! Goddam, motherfucking bullshit!
Magdalena: (to Joe and Bill)¿Quién robaría loros?
Joe: Hell if I know.
- Walkara
-------------------
(Kate & Melanie are sitting cross legged on the beach, Adam is standing, acting out the story he is telling)
Adam: So we're doing about 80 miles an hour, then Shaun pulls this sick hand-break turn into the parking lot..
(Melanie looks up and sees Shaun walking up behind Adam)
Melanie: Hey Shaun
Shaun: Hey guys
Adam/Kate: Hey
Adam: We were just talking about your highway skills bro
Melanie: Wow Shaun, where'd you learn to drive?
Shaun: Kai showed me
Melanie: She must be pretty cool
Shaun: She is
Melanie: (standing up grabbing Shaun's hand) come on... lets head down the beach.
(They run off down the beach with Kate following close behind. Shaun turns to look for Adam who is still standing there)
Shaun: (shouting back) Come on you pu... wimp.
(Adam thinks for a moment then charges down the beach after them)
- backinthegame
-------------------
(Erlemeyer is standing on end of the pier looking across the water to the elephant cage; he looks over and sees John standing beside him, also staring at the elephant cage. John looks over, smiles, and indicates the whole panorama with an sweeping right to left motion of his upturned palm. he repeats the motion in the other direction pointing this time towards the sky.)
Erlemeyer: Yes. (he pauses) Sometimes I wish I was a fish or a bird.
John: I'm a human parrot.
Erlemeyer: A human parrot? That would seem to me to be an oxymoron. A parrot is just a mimic. It repeats the sounds it hears but without any reason or understanding. To be human is to have your own voice, for better or for worse, for love or for hate.
(He sees Shaun and Jojo running down the beach away from the pier chasing Melanie and Kate)
Take Shaun and those kids down there; not that long ago all their words and actions were just imitation; yet as they grow they find their own voices and their own hopes... fears... love. That is to become truly human.
John: We do not mimic our father's sounds. We hear our father's words.
(Erlemeyer leans his head to one side and squints a little)
Erlemeyer: Do you hear that?
John: I hear that
Erlemeyer: It just sounds like static.
John: Once, the chemist's concoctions helped them hear all the voices at once. Those were better days. But you will hear them clearly soon, and you will know my father.
Erlemeyer: (desperately trying to hear) Billions of voices?
John: I hear only one.
- backinthegame
-------------------
(We rejoin the kids who after about half a mile, come to a stop panting)
Shaun: So what now?
Adam: I think Kate and I are going to go for a walk. (he looks at her and grins. she smiles back knowingly and they head off)
(Melanie sits on the ground. Shaun sits down beside her. There is an awkward silence)
Melanie: Do you have a brother or sister?
Shaun: Nah, just me. (he pauses) you?
Melanie: Yeah, an older brother. He surfs too.
Shaun: (he perks up a little) Oh yeah, what's his name? I might know him.
Melanie: I doubt it; he's no good... not like you.
(Shaun looks embarrassed. Melanie reaches out and strokes his neck)
Melanie: So did you really hurt your neck bad in Huntington?
Shaun: (he looks down at the sand between his legs) Nah, just a sprain.
Melanie: Well, I'm sure glad you're OK now (Shaun looks up just as she pulls his head towards hers and gives him a peck on the lips. They pause faces a few inches apart)
Melanie: Well come on surf boy, are you gonna kiss me or what?
(Shaun grins and without hesitation kisses her back, finding to his surprise that it isn't so hard after all. After a short while Melanie pulls away, pauses, makes as if to say something, then grins. Shaun grins back at her. She pushes Shaun to the sand, and goes down to kiss him again)
- backinthegame
-------------------
(Freddy and Palaka are sitting at a table in the cafe, which is buzzing. Freddy looks annoyed, Palaka is playing with a paper napkin)
Freddy: Where the fuck is our food?
Palaka: You want I should go check, boss?
Freddy: What, you think my question's gonna answer itself?
Palaka: Right. (he pushes his chair back from the table, stands and backs away. He walks up to the counter, Jerri sees him approach)
Jerri: There's your food. (she shoves him a tray) We don't fucking deliver.
Palaka: (under his breath) The beating I'd get if I had your attitude.
(He walks back to the table struggling with the tray in one hand, and places the tray to the side of the table. He gingerly places the coffee mugs, two side plates and plate of danish on the table and looks to Freddy for approval. The approval is non-forthcoming, so he sits back down. Palaka reaches for the apple strudel).
Freddy: (slapping Palaka's hand, he takes the strudel). You try and take my pastry again, you'll be the fucking filling.
Palaka: I'm gonna be dead twice over before I ever get to make a fucking decision.
- backinthegame
-------------------
(Butchie enters the Surf Shack, followed by Linc. Cissy is on the telephone behind the counter. John is standing in the middle of the shop.)
John: (Smiling at Butchie) I'm here to surf with the beast!
Butchie: Hell yeah, buddy! I'm here to surf with my man, Johnny Monad.
John: Brother from another mother. (to Linc, standing next to Butchie) Comfy Cozy, sweet pea?
Linc: Not so much, John. My lady's fucking pissed at me.
John: Why would you lie? Bone her and break her jaw. Tina's operating too.
Linc: (to himself) How the fuck am I gonna earn her trust back?
John: And the mystery's solution is?
Linc: Beats the hell outta me. Fuck! I've gotta get her to at least talk to me.
John: You win one free fuck. (He smiles)
Linc: (sarcastically) I'll pass, John. (switching gears) So...does your Father got any more big and Huge for us to do today?
John: I don't know Butchie instead.
Butchie: (walks over and puts his arm around John) You down to get wet, pal? (grins from ear to ear)
John: I'm down! (He gets down on the floor)
Butchie: (helping him up) C'mon, John: we've been through this already. Stand up, sport.
John: (getting up) Be adult about our possessions? (He gives Butchie a pleading look)
Butchie: That's fuckin' right, bro. (He takes his arm from around John and pats him on the back before going over to the couch and plopping down) Whew! (sighs) I'm fuckin' toast, brother! I could use a little fuckin' shut-eye.
John: Fuckin' A right, Butchie. You are all gonna be toast. Shut-eye is big. I-got-my-eye-on-you is HUGE!
Linc: You foresee any more complications with the event on Saturday?
John: 'Complications' doesn't ring a bell. The waves will come and lift.
Linc: That's a fuckin' relief (to Butchie) I'll catch ya later, Beastman. (turns to leave, but stops at the door and rifles through his pockets.)
Butchie: Late. (sprawls out on the couch) Fuck me. I'm beat. (closes his eyes) Hey, John...
John: (walks to the couch and hovers over Butchie) Butchie?
Butchie: Don't fuckin' go wanderin' off, okay? Stay put. I'm gonna take a little nap, then we'll fuckin' head down to the beach. Sound good?
John: Sound good, Butchie. (He sits down, legs folded Indian-style on the floor)
Linc: (turns around)Hey, Butchie...is the El Camino parked at the motel?
Butchie: (losing consciousness) Hmmm?...the camino? Yeah...yeah: it's at the Snug...(his voice trails off)
Linc: Okay, well, I'm gonna head over there and pick up the Camino. (He turns to leave again)
Cissy: (still on the phone, she puts her hand over the receiver, and motions to Linc) Hey! hold the fuck up, Linc.
Linc: (stops in his tracks) What?
Cissy: I'm talkin' to some ass-fuck from Surfer magazine. He wants to fuckin' interview Butchie and Shaun...you think that's a good idea?
Linc: Can't hurt. (He looks over to Butchie, now snoring) Just remind Butchie to keep his answers short and sweet. (He smiles, remembering all Butchie's fumbled interviews in the past, and opens the door) Tell Mitch I'm looking for him.
Cissy: He's right over at the fuckin' bicycle stand talkin' to Ted. (points) Tell him yourself.
Linc: We'll do. Call me if you need anything. (He walks outside)
Cissy: (into the phone) How does later this afternoon sound? (pause)On the pier? (listening) Yeah that'll work. (pause) Okay. Bye. (She hangs up the phone then picks it up again and dials a number. It rings four times before being answered) Hey, Dolores? Yeah, this is Cissy: I've got your fuckin' cash, whenever you wanna drag your ass over here to collect it. (pause) It's none of your goddam business how I got it so fast! I sold myself on the damn street corner, okay? Just get over here and collect before I fucking change my mind and decide to keep it! (She hangs up the phone and looks at John, sitting on the floor by the couch, blank-faced) Hey, you, c'mere.
John: (He gets a conflicted look on his face) Stay put.
Cissy: Get the fuck over here.
John: (hesitant, he gets up and walks over to Cissy) What do you want, Cissy Yost?
Cissy: A cigarette. (she reaches into John's pocket and pulls out a perfectly rolled joint instead) Hey! What the fuck?! (she smells it) I guess this'll fuckin' do. (She smiles)
John: What's your policy on guest's smokin' herb?
Cissy: They better fuckin' share. (She gathers her things and prepares to leave) (to John) You come with me, moneybags. Butchie'll be out for hours. We'll come back and wake him up before he has to give that fuckin' interview--which is gonna piss him the fuck off. (she shrugs) Oh well. C'mon. (She motions for John to follow her)
John: (holds his hand out to her) Vroom! Vroom!
Cissy: I'm not holding your fuckin' hand, Rain Man.
John: (gets a pleading look on his face) You can help, Cissy.
Cissy: (throws up her hands) Fine! (to herself) Fuckin' retard! (She takes his hand and drag him behind her to the entrance) We've got a couple stops to make before we light this up. (She holds out the joint then puts in in her bra) We're gonna pay a little visit to the bank.
(She leads John outside)
Cissy: (to Mitch, from across the lot) Hey! you fuckin' comin' or what, Mitch??
Mitch: (finishes saying something to Linc and Ted)...I guess. (He walks over to her) Where we goin'?
Cissy: John here's gonna help us get outta debt.
Mitch: Dammit, Cissy! Aren't you worried about raising suspicions?
Cissy: I'm more worried about bankruptcy, dickhead.
John: Mitch wants to play Peter Pan again.
(Mitch blushes)
Cissy: (lips curving into a smile) I'll bet he does...(she grins at Mitch)...maybe I'll take him to fuckin' Never-Never Land after lunch.
Mitch: (points to John) Maybe we outta leave Tinkerbell here with Linc.
Cissy: Fuck that! We've got some business to take care of at the bank first.
Mitch: Gonna sprinkle some fairy dust on our delinquent loans, huh?
(Cissy nods her head, and walks to the Stingray, still holding John's hand. She helps John in the passenger seat and walks around to the driver's side. Realizing there isn't enough room, Mitch stops in his tracks.)
Cissy: Just get in, you can share the seat with Ziggy Stardust. (She looks at John) Scoot over, ALF.
(John looks at her, confused. He doesn't move. Cissy pulls him toward her to make room for Mitch)
Mitch: (Doesn't move) There's Dolores. (He waves to the woman crossing the street with purpose)
Cissy: (leans over John and hands a wad of cash out the window to Mitch) Give this to her.
(Mitch takes the money)
(Dolores walks over and Mitch shoves the cash in her hand before she can even say anything. She starts counting it.)
Cissy: (yells from the car) It's all fuckin' there, Dolores!
Dolores: You'll forgive me for not taking your word, Cissy. (She finishes counting) So it is. I'll go and mark you off as paid in full. Thank you, dear. (to Mitch, under her breath) How you put up with that woman is beyond me! Just the sound of her voice makes my head ache.
Mitch: She's an acquired taste, that's for sure. Have a good day, Dolores. (He watches her wander across the street before squeezing into the front seat next to John) (dripping with sarcasm) This is just great. (trying to force John over more) You're in the way, John. Are you just gonna sit there?
John: I'm gonna part like the red sea.
(Mitch rolls his eyes and gives one last push, effectively scooting John over enough to get in. After he shuts the passenger's door, Cissy starts the car and peels out. Zooming down the street, Mitch braces himself, trying not to be thrown around the cab by Cissy's aggressive driving, while she screams at John to get his hands off the gearshift.)
- Walkara
-------------------
(Barry Sits with Teddy on his lap watching the Shamu show. They are sitting in the front row.)
Barry: Such terrifying power in such an elegant form. Are you frightened Teddy? Don't be frightened, I am delighted. What fun it must be for God to leap from the sea, balancing a man on his nose.
(Barry and Teddy are drenched as the whale splashes back to the water in front of them)
Barry: Oh Teddy, he has said hello! Isn't that refreshing?!
- SpiritontheWater
-------------------
(Butchie finds himself standing on water, wearing the same strange fatigues that John and Shaun returned from 'Cincinnati' wearing. Ocean surrounds him on all sides. His bare feet graze the water, matching it's levity without breaking the surface. Butchie rolls back and forth on his heels, testing his stability. The water respond to his movements, but he remains buoyant.)
Butchie: Christ...what the fuck...? (He looks around, noticing the light from an unseen sun rising in all directions on the horizon.) Where the fuck am I?
Voice: (deep, deep sounding, almost a hum) Where aren't you?
Butchie: (startled, turning around) Who's there? Who fuckin' said that?
Voice: Like a struck match, it began with a spark, flickering into an explosion, sending particles across the universe, collecting in clusters on their way. The clusters grew and took shapes. Then everything was Fire--until it was Water.
Butchie: What the fuck's goin' on??
Voice: Sit down, Butchie Yost.
Butchie: I'd prefer to fuckin' stand. (He folds his arms resolutely)
Voice: Suit yourself.
Butchie: Where am I?
Voice: Creatures formed; marinating in water and ash, they grew legs then crawled ashore. Time passed and humanity came into being. Tracing the terra firma with their flesh; embracing gravity, Man/Woman forgot the ways of water, losing elemental harmony. Tied to the cracked earth, gravity and time chip away; footprints cover every city and sanctuary until there's no unexplored land to conquer. Standing at the water's edge, you are faced with implosion, from terminal environmental, societal, and ideological starvation; desperate to connect and masters of disconnection. 'They' are coming 9/11/14. The universe tends toward order and it's time to plug humanity back in.
Butchie: (Surprised by his own comprehension) I think I actually fuckin' followed ya, but "plug" into what?
Voice: Exactly.
Butchie: Huh?
Voice: Everything. The pool you surf is in His cupped hand.
Butchie: Who's 'He'? And who the fuck are you?
Voice: He struck the match. Maybe I'm a spark, or a messenger. Or, in all likelihood, simply a manifestation of your subconscious, recycling information you absorbed somewhere and forgot about.
Butchie: (scratches his head) Cool.
Voice: Call me Cincinnatus. (The water begins bubbling around him. His feet sense something rising from the depths beneath.)
(A flat, U-shaped head with a ridge running from blow-hole to the top of the upper lip breaks the water's surface, followed by an enormous body. Butchie braces himself, but loses focus as the mass rises from under him, lifting him atop it, spraying water from the blow-hole. When the movement stops, Butchie is standing on the back of a gigantic blue whale. His feet slip on the slick surface, struggling for balance.)
Butchie: (awestruck) Holy fuckin' shit! (He looks down at the mammoth creature and feels a ripple of terror and exhilaration run up his spine. The sheer size of the thing makes his stomach flutter anxiously.) Fuck yeah!
Cincinnatus: Keep Shaun above the water.
Butchie: What?!
(Shaun appears on the water, slowly sinking. Butchie dives off the whale's back and paddles with urgency, summoning all his strength to where Shaun sinks into water like quicksand. When he reaches the spot, Shaun is no longer there. Butchie dives under, frantically looking for his boy. Finding nothing, he pulls himself out of the water and stands atop its surface once again)
Butchie: (wiping the water from his eyes) Where the fuck's my kid?
Cincinnatus: Show him the error of your ways. Show him where to step. Catch ya later. (The whale begins descending back into the ocean) And, remember to listen...(his voice trails off)
Butchie: (standing on the water) Now what? (Just as the words leave his lips, he begins sinking into the water. He struggles against it to no avail. He tries to swim, but the water ignores his strokes and continues pulling him down.)
(Holding his breath, Butchie swirls around in complete darkness, like a fetus in the womb. He senses his own containment and fights it. Breath fading, he twists frantically for escape. His head clouds; he exhales then inhales salty water. It fills his mouth and lungs. Desperate for air, he panics and throws his body around in a last attempt for freedom. When he finally accepts his fate and gives into it, closing his eyes, the darkness swells around him and pulls him under like a riptide. He feels himself pushed and pulled in every direction; and allows himself to be taken. Breathless, he waits, expecting to lose consciousness, for what seems like forever.)
(Time passes, and he suddenly becomes aware of himself again, or, more accurately, he realizes he never lost consciousness. He opens his eyes, and finds the darkness littered with blazing specks of light scattered across the endless space. He opens his mouth to breath, and finds the a void of air; space too thick to breathe. He suddenly feels his feet against the sleek, unmistakable surface of a surfing board and pushes himself into it. Moving through space, he twists and turns his body to navigate. He twirls, flips, spins, jumps, cuts, and spirals, catching an invisible wave every which way he pumps. He rides the area with an innate knowledge of the unseen wavelengths, flying in every possible direction, kicking back and forth, spinning wildly through space. Then, sailing up the invisible face of a mammoth wave, Butchie gathers speed as he ascends the seemingly endless wave, going faster and faster, rocketing toward the crest until it becomes a tube of light--Butchie gasps awake. He takes a deep breath, sits up, looks around, and finds himself lying on the couch in the surf shop. His shorts and t-shirt are sticky with sweat, and the smell of salt water is still in his nose; the taste in his mouth.)
Butchie: (clears his throat, taking a deep breath) Well, fuck me and call me Jesus and Job: I fuckin' walked on water and a motherfucking whale! (Pulls his damp t-shirt off and throws it on the floor) Shit! That was some fuckin' dream...fuckin crazy-ass shit...(He lays back, rubs his chest with his left hand and adjusts himself with the right.) (musing)...wicked, fuckin' waves. (He takes his right hand outta his shorts and scratches under his belly button. Wrestling the lingering details from his foggy memory, he closes his eyes and falls back to sleep.)
- Walkara
-------------------
(Cissy stands behind an elderly woman in line at the bank. John is standing to her side, with his hand in hers. After the old woman is finished, they approach the counter.)
Teller: Good day. What can I do for you?
Cissy: I need to know the outstanding balance on my loan. (She grins at John)
Teller: Okay...I'll need your account number and two forms of picture ID.
(Cissy sets her purse on the counter and rummages through it, eventually finding her driver's license and her Jenco membership card. She hands them to the teller, then scribbles some numbers down on a piece of paper and hands it over as well)
Teller: (turning to her computer) Alright...Mrs. Yost. Give me a moment to process the request and I'll give you a print-out with your balance. (She enters information into the computer. A few moments later, the printer behind her starts printing and she goes over and retrieves the papers and hands them to Cissy) Would you like to make a payment? Our records indicate that you are several months delinquent on your loan. If you don't take care of this soon, we will put a lien on your 'collateral'.
Cissy: (eyes bulging in disbelief at the debt) Fuck me!
(The teller gets a disapproving look on her face.)
Cissy: Okay, fuck, let me see...I guess I'm gonna pay it all off.
Teller: (swallows) All of it??
Cissy: That's what I fuckin' said!
Teller: (offended) I'd appreciate it if you'd watch your language in my presence. (dismisses Cissy with her eyes) How will you be paying for that?
Cissy: (looks at John) In cash, I guess...(she whispers something in John's ear, reaches into his pocket and pulls out a thick roll of hundred dollar bills, then sets it down on the counter) There ya go, princess peach.
Teller: (taken aback) Umm...if you'll excuse me, I better let my manager take care of this transaction. (She walks into the back)
Cissy: (turning around, leaning against the counter) God, you'd think they'd be a little fuckin' happier and less goddam suspicious! Maybe I should've paid with your magic fucking credit card.
John: John and his cash and his plastic are down! (He makes to drop to the floor, but Cissy catches his arm and holds him up)
Cissy: Stand the fuck up, retard! (She lets him go and turns back around, shaking her head.)
(The teller returns with a short, balding manager)
Teller: (pointing to the roll of cash on the counter) See. (She hurries outta sight.)
Harold: Hello, Mrs. Yost. I'm Harold Nouveau, the manager of this branch. I understand you wish to pay-off your loan...(he looks at the roll of bills on the counter, aghast.)in cash...??
Cissy: Aren't you quick on the fuckin' draw...yeah, I'm here to pay off my loan. There's the goddam cash, now run along and print me up a fuckin' receipt or something.
Harold: (Matter of fact) Excuse you. That kind of language is unacceptable if you wish to do business with us, Mrs. Yost.
Cissy: The point is that I DON'T fuckin' wish to do business with you assholes anymore--which is why I'm here to pay off my fucking debt. Understand, munchkin?
John: (smiling at the manager, reading his mind) "We don't want your drug money!"
Cissy(kicks John in the shin) Bite your fucking tongue, fucknut...(to the speechless manager) He's real a joker.
John: Joker in the deck. (He eyes the bank manager) Harold can't get it up. Annette doesn't mind. Marsha dumps her out.
Harold: (stammering) What...what did you say??! Where did you hear that?!! Tell me, dammit!!! (he reaches across the counter and grabs John by the collar) TELL ME!!!
(Everyone in the bank looks at Harold like he's gone 'round the bend)
Cissy: (prying his hands off John) Back off, baldy! He's...a psychic! Yeah, that's right, limp-dick...he reads minds.
Manager: Garbage! I don't believe in that hogwash! However he heard that, he better keep it to himself unless he wants to explain it to the authorities. (straightening himself out, unrolls the wad of cash and starts counting. When he finishes, he looks at Cissy in disbelief) You really shouldn't carry this much cash around with you; it's just senseless. I don't suppose you'd like to tell me where you got this from?
Cissy: You "don't suppose" fuckin' right, gremlin!
Manager: I demand an accounting of where you got this money. You should know that I've flagged these bills, and it will come back to haunt you should they be found to be counterfeit or stolen.
Cissy: I emptied my goddam mattress, okay, fuck-face? Satisfied??
Manager: (flustered) I hope you realize that this behavior is highly suspect. It's against bank policy to refuse payment without prior knowledge of criminal activity, but be aware that I've got my eye on you two, and--
John: (interrupting)--I've got my eye on you, fuck face!
Manager: (Scowls) Language, please, you savages! You'll forgive me for not shaking in my Norvegese shoes over the unsolicited threat of a supposed psychic with wads of cash in his pockets. Highly suspect!
Cissy: He's my accountant too.
Manager: (gives Cissy a labored look, and answers contemptuously) Suuure...(finishing the transaction, he prints out a final receipt, grabs it, and gives it to Cissy) There. Paid in full. Just take it and leave. I can't say we'll miss your business, or your foul mouth for that matter.
Cissy: (rips the paper out of his hands) Can't say I'll miss the blinding fucking glare bouncing off your shiny, goddam head, you little fucking troll!
John: Blinding-glare-bouncing-head-fucking-troll!
(Cissy takes his hand and leads him outside. Approaching the car, they discover Mitch, reclined in the driver's seat, listening to music and singing along.)
Click to hear
Mitch: (Unaware Cissy and John have returned, he sings) "Wouldn't it be nice to live together in the kind of world where we belong..." (he opens his eyes and sees Cissy, watching through the windshield, smiling her evil, ball-busting smile down on him. He stops singing and turns red, then opens the door.) Oh, hey...(he sits up straight)...so...how'd it go?
Cissy: No big problem, Mariah. That little shithead was a pain in the balls, but it's taken care of. And nice fuckin' singin', by the way: you could be the next American Idol, Mitchell.
Mitch: (dryly) You think so, huh?
Cissy: (goes to the passenger side, opens the door and shoved John inside) Sure I do, Whitney. You've got all the fuckin' makings of a star: Diva complex? Check. Stage presence? I suppose. A tight, little ass? Check. (She walks to the driver's side.)
Mitch: (Scooting over, making room for John) I do have a tight ass. (He chuckles to himself then looks at John) Whadda you think?
John: Mitch is a tight ass.
Cissy: (getting in the car, laughs) I like him more by the second.
Mitch: You hear that, John? Medea likes you.
John: I'll give her a combat bonus.
Cissy: I fuckin' deserve one for puttin' up with this asshole (she nods her head at Mitch and starts the car) I'm gonna swing by the gas station and pay off my tab on the way home. (She fishes the joint outta her bra with her spare hand and tosses it to Mitch) Then we'll light that shit up.
Mitch: (smelling the joint) Mmmm...hell, it's been awhile...you sure you wanna do this, Cissy?
Cissy: I asked Chance the Gardner over here for a cigarette and he handed me that instead. I take that to mean we're meant to fuckin' toke. (She backs out of the parking spot, puts the car in drive, and zooms away.)
- Walkara
-------------------
(Barry and Teddy stroll around the underground viewing areas of the aquariums, they stop before an enormous window and stand next to a woman staring into the tank as a huge blue whale comes into view drawing near the glass. Barry gasps as the creature stops and seems to stare directly at him)
Barry: The eye of God!
Woman: Humbling isn't it?
Barry: Cincinnatus!
Woman: (jerks her head and looks at Barry surprised) How did you know that, that name is not known to the public?
Barry: (looks at the woman and sees her Sea World I..D. badge) By way of introduction... but he already knew mine... (he smiles proudly) Pleased to meet you. (he puts out his hand to shake hers) Barry is my name. (he returns his gaze to the whale's eye)
Woman: Come on, you?re pulling my leg, one of our marine staff told you...
Barry: (holds his finger up to his lips) Shhh...
- SpiritontheWater
-------------------
(Barry stands mesmerized, staring at the gigantic beast before him. The woman next to him backs off a bit as a large troupe of uniformed boy scouts on a field trip runs up and gathers around Barry clamoring to get a look at the whale. The boys press up to the glass and against Barry, breaking his trance)
Barry: (looking down and seeing the face of a young boy who looks much like Shaun) Wonderful! It is you, young mister Yost....
(Seeing that it is not Shaun, Barry looks around at the boys still smiling and then looks back at the whale. His smile fades and his expression turns dark as he looks again at the boys crushed up against him. He begins to recoil looking into face after face as the boys in turn look up to him and back at the whale, their voices rising in his ears)
Barry: No!, I am sorry, excuse me... I did not... I do not know you...do I? I never meant to... Let me out! Please!!
(Barry forces his way through the boys behind him and rushes back across the chamber toward the stairs looking back only once again from a distance into the eye of the Blue Whale who remains poised at the glass before the large troupe of boy scouts now huddled close together at the center of the enormous window)
Barry: We must leave now Teddy...we must leave this place at once!
- SpiritontheWater
-------------------
OK, this is more than a stretch and, actually pretty bad - not going to get past the brainstorming table. But after putting this much thought into it, I'm going to post it, anyway.
This is music for Butchie's Ep. 13 "dream ride" written by Walkara. I will need to provide a bit of explanation: I envision the scene as a music sequence focusing on communication with God - a subject that aims directly at the heart of the theme of JFC - As now, thanks to Walkara, we have been 1st hand witness to this communication for the first time.
Amidst the scene of Butchie surfing the spiritual waves so eloquently described by Walkara, scenes consistent with this theme of communication (along with others) are replayed from prior episodes including 11 and 12 - all set to the Queen's "Radio Ga-Ga".
Walkara post 102 Episode 13 His visit Day 12:
[Holding his breath, Butchie swirls around in complete darkness, like a fetus in the womb. He senses his own containment and fights it. Breath fading, he twists frantically for escape. His head clouds; he exhales then inhales salty water. It fills his mouth and lungs. Desperate for air, he panics and throws his body around in a last attempt for freedom. When he finally accepts his fate and gives into it, closing his eyes, the darkness swells around him and pulls him under like a riptide. He feels himself pushed and pulled in every direction; and allows himself to be taken.]
Click here to start the music, and then minimize
[Breathless, he waits, expecting to lose consciousness, for what seems like forever.)
(Time passes, and he suddenly becomes aware of himself again, or, more accurately, he realizes he never lost consciousness. He opens his eyes, and finds the darkness littered with blazing specks of light scattered across the endless space. He opens his mouth to breath, and finds the a void of air; space too thick to breathe. He suddenly feels his feet against the sleek, unmistakable surface of a surfing board and pushes himself into it.]
Key for Butchie Surfing scenes below:
1. Moving through space, he twists and turns his body to navigate. He twirls, flips, spins, jumps, cuts, and spirals, catching an invisible wave every which way he pumps
2. He rides the area with an innate knowledge of the unseen wavelengths, flying in every possible direction, kicking back and forth, spinning wildly through space.
3. Then, sailing up the invisible face of a mammoth wave, Butchie gathers speed as he ascends the seemingly endless wave, going faster and faster, rocketing toward the crest until it becomes a tube of light
Lyrics (Visuals)
"I'd sit alone and watch your light (Erlemeyer staring at the Elephant cage)
My only friend through teenage nights (Mitch and Cissy as teenagers)
And everything I had to know (The radio in Butchie's van)
I heard it on my radio (The radio on Lois's bedside table)
Radio.
(Butchie surfing 1.)
You gave them all those old time stars (Tina Blake video being watched in room 24)
Through wars of worlds - invaded by Mars (Bombing footage of Baghdad)
You made 'em laugh - you made 'em cry (Freddy weeping on the beach)
You made us feel like we could fly. (John and Shaun returning from Cincinnati)
(Butchi surfing 2.)
So don't become some background noise (Link speaking at the parade)
A backdrop for the girls and boys (Shaun and the kids on the beach by the fire)
Who just don't know or just don't care
(Barry staring out of his window)
And just complain when you're not there (Zippy)
You had your time, you had the power (The eye of a blue whale at the aquarium)
You've yet to have your finest hour (Joe flashing back to Vietnam)
Radio.
(Butchie Surfing 3.)
All we hear is Radio ga ga (More scenes of the elephant cage)
Radio goo goo (John in his courtyard speech)
Radio ga ga
All we hear is Radio ga ga (Shaun and Tina standing in front of a blue whale at Sea World)
Radio blah blah (Monads shown on Dwayne's computer, in the Mary Kay catalogue and in the bar)
Radio what's new? (John climbing on the tower)
Radio, someone still loves you!" (Cass surfing in competition with Butchie and Shaun watching)
It would fade out at this point as Butchie wakes on the couch at the surf shop.
[--Butchie gasps awake. He takes a deep breath, sits up, looks around, and finds himself lying on the couch in the surf shop. His shorts and t-shirt are sticky with sweat, and the smell of salt water is still in his nose; the taste in his mouth.]
- waxon
-------------------
(Mitch, Cissy, Erlemeyer, and John sit on the floor in Mitch's sanctuary.)
Mitch: (holding the joint between his thumb and index fingers, he strikes a match from a Snug Harbor Motel matchbook and lights it.) Here goes. (Flame held to the end, sucking in short deep breaths, a cherry forms.)
Cissy: (to his right) Pass it this way.
Mitch: (holding his breath) ...'kay... (he passes the joint to Cissy)
(Cissy accepts the joint and takes slow, measure hit. She pulls it from her lips, takes a quick breath, pushing the smoke into her lungs and holds it. She passes the joint to Erlemeyer)
Mitch: (exhales) Damn. (coughs slightly) That's potent stuff.
Erlemeyer: Don't mind if I do. (hits the joint masterfully then hold his breath)
Cissy: (spits the smoke out) Uuuugghh...(clears her throat) Fuck...I don't think it's working.
Erlemeyer: (exhaling) Good stuff, this. Where's you get it, Mitch? (He takes another hit)
Mitch: Cissy found it in John's pocket.
John: I think we may all need a spliff.
Cissy: I don't feel anything.
Erlemeyer: (exhales smoke) Just give it a minute. This stuff creeps up on you.
Cissy: How the fuck do you know that?
Erlemeyer: I've smoked enough pot to know it's properties just by the taste. (He offers the joint to John)
John: (takes the joint and stares at it) It makes me fuckin' nervous. I'm still not givin' up herb.
Erlemeyer: (takes it outta John's hands and brings it to his lips for illustrative purposes) See you put this end between your lips and suck (he inhales, and holds his breath) like this and hold your breath as long as you can. (He blows the smoke into John's face) Then exhale. (He puts the joint back in John's hand.)
John: Take a shot. (puts the joint to his lips and inhales just as Erlemeyer did and hold his breath)
Mitch: Don't bogart that joint. (To Erlemeyer) Pass that back over here.
(Erlemeyer takes the joint out of John's lips and passes it to Cissy who passes to Mitch. John is still holding his breath effortlessly)
Erlemeyer: (to Mitch and Cissy) John's still holding his breath. (to John) Hey! John, you can stop holding your breath now. C'mon, breathe.
(John gives him a helpless look and exhales, coughing.)
Cissy: Fuckin' idiot!
Mitch: (exhales and passes to Cissy) Wow! This stuff does creep up on you: I'm blazed.
Cissy: I still don't feel a fuckin' thing. (She takes a hit and passes to Erlemeyer)
John: (faux toking) Wacky tabacky should be involved.
Erlemeyer: How do you feel, John? (He takes a hit)
John: I am fucked up at the present moment. (He takes the joint from Erlemeyer and puffs on it.)
Cissy: Fuck this bullshit! I'm going inside to get a fuckin' beer! (She gets up and walks out)
***
(An hour later, Cissy still hasn't returned. Mitch, Erlemeyer, and John are sprawled out on the floor, listening to Erlemeyer's radio)
Click to Hear
Mitch: (lying on his back, looking at the ceiling) ...actually, he began as the herald of Galactus, finding planets for him to consume. It was only after coming to earth that he became a hero. And he wasn't ever human: he was from the planet Zenn-La; he struck a deal to save his homeworld by becoming Galactus' herald. And he wasn't exiled to earth until after he betrayed Galactus.
Erlemeyer: I thought he was in some sort of explosion that transformed him.
Mitch: You thought wrong. Swamp Thing, Dark Man, The Hulk: all scientists that gained their powers after lab explosions. The Silver Surfer is an extraterrestrial.
John: (laying on the floor, with his legs crossed again) I think maybe an extraterrestrial is involved with my family.
(Mitch and Erlemeyer look at each other incredulously)
Mitch: Anyway...the Silver Surfer can absorb and manipulate the universe's cosmic energy. He's practically indestructible. As he moves through space, dimensional barriers, and hyperspace, he can exceed the speed of light on his board. He's even been known to time travel on occasion. The Surfer sustains himself by converting matter into energy; he doesn't eat, drink, breathe, or sleep. He analyzes and manipulates matter and energy, and can restructure or animate matter, even transmuting elements. He utilizes the Power Cosmic to augment his superhuman strength. The Surfer can also heal living beings. He can alter the size of himself or of other matter, cast illusions, fire energy blasts, absorb and discharge most forms of energy, and phase through solid matter...so, yeah, I think he's got an edge over John here.
Erlemeyer: I never took you for the comic book type, Mitch.
Mitch: I'm not! The Silver Surfer isn't just a comic book; it's a metaphorical meditation, exploring philosophy, human nature, and love in the face of the unknown. It's a story of redemption, and struggle. One man's, or alien in this case, quest to not only save himself, but the entire planet from the insatiable, power-hungry Galactus, only to be banished to Earth as punishment, discovering human emotion in the process. He is an amoral entity; learning to distinguish right from wrong, and finding his own humanity in the process.
Erlemeyer: Sounds like you've put a lot of thought into this...
Mitch: (lying) Not really. I used to read the comics to Butchie when he was a kid.
John: (interrupting) I gotta take a horrendous dump. (He stands up)
Mitch: Thanks for sharing that John. (rolls his eyes) Go on inside and Cissy will point you to the bathroom--speaking of whom, I wonder where she is?
(Inside the Yost House, Cissy is sitting on the couch, staring straight ahead lost in thought, smoking a cigarette. She can't stop observing herself, her life, her sins, and agonizing over the hopelessness of it all. The pot is making her extremely paranoid and leaves her over-processing everything. She means to go back out to the others, but is too stoned and out of practice to face anyone. She takes a drag off her cigarette and tries to push thoughts of herself from her mind. She looks across the room and remembers the time she slapped Butchie across the face for stealing a beer from the fridge when he was a kid. She looks at the table, remembering the time he wouldn't eat his oatmeal, so she shoved his face in it. She fails to shake the shamed look on his face from her memory. Every time her memory leads her to that ultimate act of betrayal, she freezes in terror and pushes it back into the dark recesses of her mind. But the hint of that memory stays in the front of her mind, threatening to refresh all the sickening details.)
John: (knocks on the door) I'm shy about doing my business.
Cissy: (gets up, both annoyed and relieved, and opens the door) What the fuck do you want? (She practically smiles at him, thankful for the distraction)
John: Firsties on the can.
Cissy: Jesus! Don't fuckin' tell me you need fuckin' help with that, dumbass.
John: You can help, Cissy.
Cissy: Oh fuck. Alright, follow me. (leads him to the bathroom. She opens the door and shoves him inside) Okay, go ahead.
(John gives her a helpless look)
Cissy: What?! Can't you take it from here?
John: I can take it from here. (He doesn't move)
Cissy: Goddammit! (She shakes her head) Just drop your drawers and sit down.
John: (pulling his pants down, exposing himself) Drop your pants, ass on that seat, baby, and push! I gots to go. (John sits down and makes grunting noises)
Cissy: (blushing, turns her head away) Jesus! Thanks for the fuckin' visual, asshole. I guess Malibu Ken is anatomically correct. (She closes the door behind her, leaving him alone.) Make sure to flush when your done okay, shithead?
John: Give it a fuckin' whirl.
(Cissy walks into the other room, feeling better. She walks over to the phone and dials a number.)
(Cut to the Surf Shack. Butchie is asleep on the couch when his phone rings. It rings four times before he pulls it from his pocket, flips it open, and answers)
Butchie: (groggy) Ummm...what? (He sit sup and sweeps his hair behind his ear)
Cissy: Some asshole from Surfer Magazine wants to interview you and Shaun on the pier in a few hours. Linc thought it was a good idea.
Butchie: Awww, fuck, ma! You know I hate that shit. Fuckin' press always makes me look like a fucked-up retard.
Cissy: You haven't exactly made it fuckin' hard for 'em, have ya?
Butchie: Maybe ya coulda fuckin' checked with me before you fuckin' agreed to it. What the fuck does Shaunie think?
Cissy: He doesn't fuckin' know yet. Guess you better track him the fuck down and tell him, huh?
Butchie: Fuck. Fine. I'll give him a call. Shit! what the hell are they gonna wanna know? What if they start askin' fuckin' questions about John and Shaunie's accident?
Cissy: Just repeat the fuckin' lies Linc spun for 'em the other day. You can do it--you've had plenty of practice lying your junkie ass off.
Butchie: Anyways...guess I'll see you at the beach later, huh?
Cissy: (feeling a twinge of guilt) Yeah, we'll be there--hey, Butchie...?
Butchie: Yeah?
Cissy: Sorry if I'm a fucking bitch.
Butchie: (shocked) What??
Cissy: You fuckin' heard me.
Butchie: No...no worries, ma. (pause) I'll see ya later. (He hangs up the phone and sits frozen in disbelief at Cissy's apologetic outburst. Then, feeling encouraged, he dials Shaun's cell phone to tell him about the interview.)
(Back at the Yost house, Cissy goes back into the bathroom to check on John)
Cissy: (outside the door) You okay in there, Elvis?
John: Cissy's a fucking bitch.
Cissy: What the fuck did you just say??! (She kicks the door open to discover John still sitting on the toilet) Aren't you fuckin' finished yet?
John: I'm finished. (He stands up, again exposing his man-parts to Cissy again)
Cissy: Jesus Christ, dickhead, pull your damn pants up! That's fucking inappropriate!
John: (smiles) You can help.
Cissy: (She hesitantly approaches him, grabs his pants from around his ankles and pulls them up and fastens them) There. Now listen up, douche bag: from now on you're gonna have to learn to do this shit for yourself, 'cause fuck if I'm gonna wipe your ass for ya. (She notices that the toilet is empty and realizes that the bathroom is odor free) What the fuck?! Did you even go, John?
John: I went!
Cissy: No, you didn't, John. I'm starting to think that you don't dump at all. Why the fuck did you ask me to help, ass-wipe?
John: Say hi to my monster, fried-brain-pothead.
Cissy: (turns red) What the fuck are you playing at, shit-for-brains?
John: Don't be afraid of skippy. You won't do something like that again.
Cissy: (turns red) You've got a big goddam mouth, dontcha, Paul Revere? I'd watch it if I was you.
John: You're ashamed of your flooring. I'll carpet four rooms in your house. (He gives her an innocent smile and hold his hand out)
Cissy: C'mere. (takes his hand and leads him out of the bathroom to the living room) Sit down. (He sits and she sits next to him) Now, why the fuck are you here?
John: The end is near.
Cissy: What end?
John: (confused) The end.
Cissy: What is the end?
John : Captain Kirk.
Cissy: You? You're the end? The end of what?
John: (tips his head) I don't know Butchie instead.
Cissy: What the fuck does Butchie have to do with this?
Butchie: John and his cash and his plastic are down with Butchie the Beast! Bring Butchie out of semi-retirement.
Cissy: And what the fuck does any of this bullshit have to do with me?
John: The world's worst ball-buster is part of the story.
Cissy: How?
John: Stare them down.
Cissy: Stare who down?
John: (shrugs) Fuckin' vampires?
Cissy: That I can fuckin' do.
John: Cissy needs ass-wipes.
Cissy: (holding her hands out) And what the fuck does that mean?
John: (touches her stomach) Take a good look, ma.
Cissy: Get your fuckin' hands off me! (she throws his hands off) I'm finished trying to figure you the fuck out for now, Pee-wee! (stands up) C'mon lets go see what Mitch and the fuckin' chemist are up to.
(John holds his hand out. Cissy takes it without batting an eye and leads him back to Mitch's clubhouse.)
- Walkara
-------------------
(Adam and Kate are strolling back up the beach hand in hand. They see Shaun and Melanie making out on the beach. Adam motions to Kate to be quiet, they sneak up on the others)
Adam: HEY... get a fucking room!
(Shaun and Melanie jump apart and look up)
Melanie: Like you guys can talk.
Adam: True. (he smiles) I say we head back to my place...
Shaun: (stands up and helps Melanie up) cool.
(they walk down the beach to a small weathered-looking house. Adam takes the key from above the door frame, unlocks the door and they go inside. Inside is much as anyone would expect from the outside, except the walls are entirely decked with murals depicting a wide variety of sea creatures. A large whale takes pride of place in the living room).
Kate: Wow, this place is trippy.
Shaun: It kind of reminds me of somewhere.
Adam: You'd have to ask Noah about that. Who's up for a brewsky?
Shaun/Kate/Melanie: (not wanting to be the only one to say no) Sure.
(Adam opens the fridge, and grabs some cans from a fresh case)
Adam: Lock and load (he distributes beers to his friends, disappears into the back room and returns with a joint)
Shaun: Now we're talking!
Adam: (he lights the joint, takes a big drag and offers it to Kate, she waves it away. He offers it to Melanie; she also declines) Guess it's just us bro.
Shaun: (sarcastically) shucks! (he takes the joint and takes a hit too)
Adam: Noah won't be back for a few hours, how about we play some quarters?
Shaun: What's that?
Melanie: Oh, it's easy. You remember Kate, at Alice's party?
Kate: Yeah.
Shaun: OK, so what do we do?
(Adam heads to the kitchen and returns with a glass, he grabs a quarter from his pocket, and deftly bounces it off the table and into the glass)
Adam: You do that! If you miss, you have to drink!
Shaun: Doesn't seem like there's much of a downside!
Adam: That's why it's fun.
(they play several rounds... everyone has managed to land the quarter in the glass except Shaun)
Adam: Finally something you suck at, huh? Better go get yourself another drink!
Shaun: Shit.
Melanie: It's OK, I still love ya!
(Shaun disappears to the kitchen and returns with another can)
Adam: Let me show you how it's done! (he nails the quarter straight into the glass)
Shaun: Fucker!
Adam: Better get with the plan, bro.
(The game continues for some time. When we rejoin it, we see 4 empties by Shaun, 1 by each of the others)
Shaun: (slurring) OK, I've had it
Adam: I think you had it a while back!
(a phone rings; the kids look around)
Adam: That's you bro. (Shaun fumbles in his pocket, pulls out the phone and eyes it suspiciously)
Shaun: Shit, it's my dad.
Melanie: Don't answer it
(The phone stops ringing)
Shaun: Too late! (he throws the phone down on the table, hard enough for it to bounce)
Adam: Hell, that's your best throw yet!
(Shaun glares at him, the girls snicker. The phone rings again. Shaun picks it up and looks at the caller id)
Shaun: My dad again... must be important. (He answers the phone)
Shaun: Hey
Butchie: Where've you been?
Shaun: (slowly) you know, hanging out.
Butchie: Well you need to get your ass down to the pier. We've got an interview to do there in an hour
Shaun: OK
Butchie: I'll see you there, then?
Shaun: Uh huh (he hangs up, stands and stumbles). OK, I gots to go... they want to interview me.
Adam: Who?
Shaun: I don't know... my dad said
Adam: Shit, you're wasted dude.
Shaun: (scoffing) No I ain't (he lurches for the door) seeya; wouldn't want to be ya (he disappears out the door)
(Melanie goes to stand up, but Adam motions for her to stop)
Adam: Don't worry; he'll be OK.
- backinthegame
-------------------
Bill: (slamming on the breaks) What was that! (He points to the gutter a few yards ahead of them, and pulls off to the side of the road. He gets out of the truck and walks toward it.)
Magdalena: (Still in the truck, looks at Joe sitting next to her) Is he okay?
Joe: (Shrugs) Bill's always been high-fuckin'-strung, but I ain't never see him this fuckin' agitated.
Magdalena: My Lord! the veins in his head looked ready to burst. (Smiles, albeit guiltily)
Joe: (Laughing) He must really love them goddam birds. (Abruptly) Here he comes.
Magdalena: What's that in his hand?
Bill: (Opens the door and gets in, something white is in his left hand) One of Her Ladyships fucking feather! (He holds it up) And there's another one further down the block. Zippy's leavin' us a trail! I figure that after being fuckin' bird-napped, right under my goddam nose! (He shakes his fist), that Zip, being a bird of extraordinary intelligence and paranormal fucking abilities, plucked feathers from Her Ladyship and tossed them along the way to wherever-the-fuck they're being held captive.
Joe: Captives, huh? (He rolls his eyes at Magdalena) What makes you so sure that fuckin' feather belongs to "Her ladyship"? (He suppresses a smirk)
Bill: Christ Almighty! Don't you think I fuckin' recognize a feather from my own goddam bird??--that hatched in my home??! Just 'cause you skull-fucked stoner types can't tell your pie hole from your ass hole, don't assume the fucking rest of us are similarly fucking confused! (He puts his seatbelt on, signals to get back into the lane, and makes a safe reentry into traffic.)
Joe: (Grinning) Just how fuckin' well do ya know them birds, Bill?
(Magdalena starts to laugh but catches herself and throws her hands over her mouth to suppress it.)
- Walkara
-------------------
(Sitting under an English mid-19th century gasolier, now electrified, a man in a sleek, perfectly-tailored, black suit smokes thin, effeminate cigarettes, making his gnarled hands seem all the more threatening. Sitting at an oval mahogany dining table, surrounded by 21 empty chairs. He glares at his blackberry, on the table. As if on cue, it rings and he picks it up and answers.)
Mr. White: Yes? (Listening) You can call me Mr. White. (He flashes his sharp, rotting teeth with an amused grin) Yes, well, let's skip the pleasantries and cut to the chase, shall we? (Listening, he puts his cigarette out on the table's fine surface without hesitation) I can see this is going to be like pulling teeth--a worthy use of time given the right pair of pliers and motivation, and an apt metaphor for your reticence to simply say what you want us to do. (Pause) Yes, you have to say it if you want it done. (Waiting. His eyes get big with excitement as the words are spoken) Oh, yes! Yes, yes, yes! I DO like the sound of that. (His yellow eyes gleam) Very much. (He crosses his legs, and cocks his head back) Don't concern yourself about that: We will take care of everything. Your people have put all the pieces into place. Now it's time to step back and let US (he licks his cracked lips) realize The Vision. (Pause) No, the only thing left to discuss is our fee. (Listens with a menacing look on his withered face) The sheer vulgarity of your offer is quite enticing--but we set our own terms, the specifics of which will be made known in time. (Listens) Oh yes, the accommodations are quite satisfactory. I'm sitting in the conference room as we speak. (He chews his fingernail, listening) Yes, I heard; several times. (He rolls his eyes) The Blair House is quite lovely. (Pause) Very well, and, remember, once you give the word, there is no turning back. Once unleashed, our 'horsemen' don't stop until their objective is complete. (Listening) You have made a wise choice, one that generations to come will regard for it's foresight and courage. Keep them distracted and we'll be in touch. And, be patient: these things take time. (He clicks his phone shut and tosses it on the table. He stands up and walks around the table, muttering something to himself, then picks his phone back up and pushes a button. He puts it to his ear) Mr. Craven? Mr. White here. I just received the go-ahead from Eagle. No, of course not: he has absolutely no idea what happens next. (Listening) Understood. I'm on a flight to Tel Aviv in the morning. I'll call you after the rendezvous with Yusaf.
- Walkara
-------------------
(Barry hurries up the stairs leading out of the aquarium and through the doors out into the light of day, he appears panicked and turns to head toward the park exit. He walks a ways and stops)
Barry: Wait Teddy, We must collect ourselves or we may find me fully gripped by siezure. I do not want to suffer an attack here...not now... let me sit before I fall...
(Barry looks around an sees some benches under some trees. He heads for it and as he approaches he sees a small boy walk over and sit there. The boy is crying).
Barry: Is this now too another vision, a face I have seen before? Am I to be visted by ghosts from Christmas? past today... yet, this face does look familiar to me... am I not looking in the mirror Teddy, is this not the young frightened boy I was that day...left behind? (He walks over to the boy who is about five or six who looks up at him sobbing)
Boy: I can't find my mommy...(he puts his hands to his face and continues to cry)
Barry: Oh my goodness you are lost, (Barry quickly sits down next to him) there, there, I will help you, everything will be all right. (Barry puts his arm around the boy and squeezes him to his breast and looks around to get his bearings) there, there, we will find your mommy right away. Here now, see? Teddy will help us. (he props Teddy up facing the boy who looks up and wipes his eyes) he is the best at helping lost boys find their mommies and daddies. Now Teddy! What should we do? (Barry pretends to be hearing Teddy's reply as the boy looks at his face and back to Teddy) Well then that is what we shall do! He said we must go to the lost and found department and the nice people there will immediately radio for help! (the boy stares at Teddy, his tears subsiding) Oh yes Teddy. (Barry reaches out with Teddy's arm and gently wipes the boys the cheek) That was very nice of you Teddy. (the boy blinks his eyes as Barry gently wipes his other cheek with Teddy's other arm.) Now where to find the Lost and Found Department? We will consult the map! (Barry pulls the map from his pocket and opens it up between Teddy and the boy. He points to a spot) There it is! Right around the corner! Will you carry Teddy?
(Barry places Teddy in the boys arms and stands up. He picks the boy up in his arms and walks out on to the thoroughfare)
Boy: I like Teddy.
Barry: And he likes you too, very much. (Barry walks proudly carrying the boy with Teddy in his arms. It is a short distance before they arrive at the door to the lost and found.) And here we are! Nothing like having a treasure map to lead one right to the treasure! (Barry opens the door and they step inside) Hello the ship! This young man has lost his mother and we need your help to find her!
Woman: Well we can help with that! (she walks from behind the desk and holds up a lollipop handing it to the boy) Now just come right over here and we will find out where she might have gotten off to.
Barry: (starts to set the boy down on the chair by the desk but the boy grabs his neck tightly) Perhaps I should sit as well, We seem to have struck up a friendship. I found him in tears on the benches near the entrance. (Barry sits down in the chair with the boy on his lap and the boy sits looking at Teddy)
Woman: That's perfectly fine. You seem to have done a good job so far. (to the boy) Looks like you have found a friend there. What is his name?
Boy: Teddy.
Woman: That's a very nice name, and what is your name?
Boy: Barry.
Barry: (shocked) We have the same name! Oh...
(The door opens and a woman rushes in, seeing her son she quickly scoops him off Barry's lap and hugs and kisses him)
Boy: Mommie!
Mother: Oh, Barry! Barry! you gave us such a fright! I turned around and you were gone. Oh my god. I am so glad you're ok. Oh my god...
(Barry's eyes fill with tears as he watches the reunion. The woman behind the desk smiles.)
Woman: This is the man who found him.
Mother: Oh thank you, thank you. I have been frantic for the past half hour. Thank you very much.
Barry: I was happy to have helped...
(The boy clutches Teddy by the arm and holds him out to Barry who takes him and waves Teddy's arm goodbye as the mother and her son leave the office. Barry follows them out and with Teddy in his arms watches as they walk away, the boy stares back at them over his mothers shoulder, lollipop in his mouth, and raises his small hand waving back).
Barry: So that's what he meant for me to see... (he looks down at Teddy) I think you've earned a trip to the ice cream parlor Mr. Bear. (Barry crosses the lane and walks down the sidewalk)
- SpiritontheWater
-------------------
(Sitting in her hotel room, Rilo Kiley's 'Close Call' is playing on the stereo. Tina stares at the ceiling until her puffy eyes relax and close.)
Click and Minimize
(She opens her eyes. The sound of rushing water surrounds her. She sits up, startled, and sees water pouring in from under the door and through the windows. It pools on the ground, rising up the bed until it's soaked like a sponge. Tina stands up, panicking as the water creeps up her legs. It moves faster that she can. Before she knows it, she's treading water with her mouth and nose pushed against the ceiling, just a few inches from the water, gasping for the little air remaining. She treads for a while, swallowing the occasional mouthful of water and choking on it. She moves her arms and legs until they ache, then finally succumbs, sinking. The moment she stops resisting, all the water immediately drains from the room, plopping her back down on the spongy bed.)
Tina: What the fuck...(She takes a deep breath)...is happening?!
Car Salesman: (Sitting in a chair by the bed, totally dry.) You're drowning, little girl.
Tina: (She jumps to her feet and hops to the other side of the bed) Who the fuck are you?! How the hell did you get get in here??
Car Salesman: The name's Dave. (He stands and offers her his hand from across the bed) Relax, no reason for fuckin' alarm.
Tina: (she shakes his hand, albeit with trepidation) Tina Blake.
Dave: I know that: you're the Tina Blake.
(She looks down)
Dave: (walks over and lifts her chin up) There'll be none of that bullshit, darlin'.
Tina: (embarrassed) What do you want?
Dave: That is the question. Unfortunately, the getting is a whole other fuckin' ballgame. Believe it or not, I too find myself at the center, or, in your case, on the periphery, of events that are far beyond my realm of fuckin' comprehension. Over the course of these missions, I've been myself thrust into all manner of meddlesome nonsense, and not always for the fuckin' better.
Tina: (Confused) What do you want from me?
Dave: Fine, fine. We'll forgo the verbal calisthenics and get right down to it. (He leans in and whispers something in her ear. She closes her tear-streaked eyes as the message is relayed) You hear?
Tina: (She nods her head and he wipes the tears from her eyes) Thanks.
Dave: No fuckin' problem, kid. And, remember, keep your damn chin up. (He strolls out the door. When it closes after him, Tina opens her eyes, waking someplace else.)
Tina: (finding herself on a beach) Where...? What the hell is goin' on? (She stands up and sees an endless beach, stretched as far as the eye can see in one direction, and an endless ocean in the other. She walks along the edge of where water and land meet, unsure what else to do. She crossed paths with a seagull walking in her direction. She looks down and the bird looks up at her.)
Seagull: (Blinking) Hey.
Tina: Oh!(Surprised)...hi...
Seagull: (After an awkward silence) So, ah, if you'll excuse me...(He motions for her to move with his head.)
Tina: (Doesn't move) Okay, you're excused.
Seagull: In other words, get out of my way! You're breaking the rules!
Tina: Oh, I'm sorry. (She steps aside and watches him pass.) Goodbye.
Seagull: (walking on, he lifts his wing) Later. (Muttering to himself) She was quite beautiful, for a moron.
(Tina watches him go until he dissolves in the distance, then continues on her way. After awhile, she comes across a sea lion, sun-bathing on in her path)
Tina: Excuse me.
Sea Lion: (Doesn't move) You're excused.
Tina: I meant, move. (She gives him a tolerant smile)
Sea Lion: (He looks at her) Walk around me. (He looks back to the ocean)
Tina: (With hesitation) I don't think I can do that.
Sea Lion: Why not?
Tina: I'm not sure. I think it's against the rules.
Sea Lion: Rules?
Tina: Uh-huh.
Sea Lion: What makes you think there are rules?
Tina: I don't know. It's just something the sea gull said...
Sea Lion: Lucius? Never mind him. He's trying to map the area--which is simply ridiculous--How does one measure the immeasurable? But he's very determined and, as we both know, there's no point in trying to talk to a gull once his or her mind is made up--which is where the expression "stubborn as a sea gull" comes from, you know.
Tina: Isn't it "stubborn as a mule"?
Sea Lion: (Condescendingly) No. (Looks at her pitifully) That doesn't even make sense. Have you ever known a stubborn mule? I haven't. I once knew a insufferably loquacious ass, but he turned out to be a rather accommodating chap.
Tina: Um, well...I guess I'll be going.
Sea Lion: Actually, you won't.
Tina: Huh? Why?
Sea Lion: You've already arrived.
Tina: Arrived?
Sea Lion: Dear, it's poor manners to repeat everything I say. Yes, we have an appointment, remember?
Tina: Actually, I don't. Why didn't you say that to begin with?
Quinctius: What fun would that be? I'm Quinctius, your sponsor. We'll be working together in various capacities, many of which you won't remember--but first things first: tell me about Shaun.
Tina: (sitting down next to the sea lion) He's amazing...smart, gifted...and he's got his dad's heart...
- Walkara
-------------------
(Linc enters the Snug Harbor lot, sweat bleeding through his shirt from the walk. Several crews of men are scattered around lot doing various jobs. Linc spots the El Camino parked by Butchie's cabin and approaches. When he nears the car, he finds Ramón, lounging on a folding chair in a small patch of shade, fanning himself with an Avon catalog.)
Linc: (nods) Hi. It's Ramón, right?
Ramón: (Still fanning himself) Si. Butchie's not here. Everyone left. (He picks up a large glass of iced tea and takes a sip.)
Linc: I just talked to Butchie. I'm here for the car. (He motions to the Camino)
Ramón: Oh. (He sets his glass on a TV tray next to him) Hey, when you go, tell those guys (he points across the lot) I said to get started on Butchie's cabin next. He's tryin' to make things nice before his lady-friend leaves.
Linc: Who?..Kai? Where's she goin'?
Ramón: Hawaii. Surfing try-outs or something.
Linc: For the Billbong Girls??
Ramón: I guess.
Linc: Shit. Why didn't I know about this? She's good; I could talk to Jake; maybe Stinkweed's interested. They tour pretty much non-stop--Butchie amnd Kai are fuckin' doomed if she makes it. (He thinks about Tina)
(Ramón shrugs)
Linc: I'm way off my game, man. I'm no fuckin' good at this walkin' the line bullshit.
Ramón: Your balls get broken either way, amigo. (Shakes his head) Might as well try to be a good guy.
Linc: Ain't that the truth, brother. (Looks around) Where'd all the workers comes from?
Ramón: (facetiously) Straight from Immigration. (chuckles) Some are my cousins, and their cousins. I picked up the last crew outside Home Depot.
Linc: Takin' charge, huh?
Ramón: Barry went AWOL.
Linc: Mr. Cunningham, the owner?
Ramón: Vanished. Butchie, John, and the boy left. That Bowser look-alike's sidekick said they were going shopping. Meyer had a meeting. And you can't ever pin the Doc down. So I figured I'd take the day off too--but we're on a deadline, so I hired more hands and delegated responsibility. I'm overseeing things.
Linc: Sounds like a plan, bro. A little iced tea, a little sunshine...
Ramón: Long Island iced tea--I'm outside 'cause the air conditioner in the office is broken. The heat makes it stink like a locker-room.
Linc: Yeah, the heat's a fuckin' bitch today. I walked here from The Internet Cafe. I'm fuckin' beat.
Ramón: Pull up a chair. Have a drink. Linc, right?
Linc: Linc Stark. Okay...(obliges, sits in the empty chair across from Ramón)...I will. (Ramón fills a glass from a blue carafe and hands it to Linc.) Gracìas.
Ramón: De nada, hombre. (He leans back in his chair) Maybe we should order some food. I'm too tired to cook.
Linc: What sounds good?
Ramón: Pizza.
Linc: Pizza it is. (Takes out his cell phone, does a quick web-search for Giant Pizza King, then dials the telephone number) (To Ramón) What do you want on it?
- Walkara
-------------------
(Cissy sits at the table, eating dry cold cereal out of the box. John sits across from her, watching intently)
Cissy: (mouth full) What are you looking at?
John: I've got my eye on you.
Cissy: I know that, moron--why don't you point your fuckin' "eye" somewhere else? (She bounces a piece of Honeycomb cereal off his head, grinning) What the fuck are we waiting for again?
John: Not-Amelia Earhart. I like Cass.
Cissy: Isn't that the little bitch that fucked my husband?
John: Sometimes to save what you love, you have to be willing to lose it.
Cissy: What the fuck is that supposed to mean?
John: Make up a poultice and pffft!
(Cissy rolls her eyes, digs a handful of cereal out of the box and shoves it in her mouth.)
John: Cass will soon be here.
Cissy: (talking with her mouth full) That little fuckin' bitch better not show her face here!
John: Meet the fucking Jetsons!
Cissy: I hope she's prepared to get her skinny ass beat! (She shoves more cereal in her mouth, crunching it as if it were Cass.)
John: She's prepared.
(Mitch walks in the back door, followed by Erlemeyer. They find Cissy and John into the kitchen.)
Mitch: Hey, I was wondering where you got to.
Cissy: (swallows a mouthful of cereal) (mockingly) Here I am, Mitch! (she launches a piece of honeycomb at Mitch, hitting him in the chest)
Mitch: (watches it hit him and fall to the ground) Cute. (He sits down by Cissy) You ready to go to the beach?
Cissy: Marvin the Martian over here is waiting for that little blond bitch you fucked last week.
Mitch: Oh. (uncomfortable) Maybe Early and I should head down there now and meet you guys later...
Cissy: Or you could stay here and enjoy the fucking show.
Mitch: The show? Let it go, Cissy.
Cissy: Fuck off, Mitch. I already got in her face.
John: Cissy stared Cass down.
Mitch: Listen, Cissy: you know as well as I do, that she didn't cause any of our problems.
Cissy: Except fuckin' my husband after our grandson almost died!
Mitch: Jesus, Cissy! I already told you it was over before it started.
Cissy: How'd it end then?
Mitch: Why?
Cissy: 'Cause I wanna fucking know is why! I am your fuckin' wife!
Mitch: It just ended. We both realized that there was nuthin' there.
John: I don't think you should stay here, Levitation-for-the-illuminated.
Cissy: What the fuck is he on about?
Mitch: (lying) I have no idea.
Erlemeyer: I'm gonna drive to the pier. I'll meet you there. (He walks out the front door.)
Cissy: It's one thing that you fucked some little girl, but the fact that she's always fuckin' hovering around the damn family is a pretty fucking awkward.
Mitch: I can't help that.
Cissy: (looks at John) Why the fuck is she here, Starman?
John: Cass is part of the story. My father needs her camera. I like Cass. (looks at Mitch) She didn't see the colors.
Cissy: And what the fuck does that mean?
Mitch: (lying again) No idea.
Cissy: Bullshit! I saw that look in your eye when he said it. Just fuckin' tell me the goddam truth!
Mitch: Fine! We had sex then she threw me out in favor of him! (He points at John) Okay?! Are you fucking satisfied??
Cissy: (Smiles) She threw you out--AFTER you gave it to her?! (She laughs) That's fucking priceless! I guess you didn't exactly rock her world, did ya Mitch? Forget the Viagra? Did you miss the hole? (She giggles)
Mitch: Fuck you.
Cissy: Maybe if you learned to fuckin' hit it right.
Mitch: That's not the tune you were singin' this morning! (He stands up)
Cissy: Maybe I was fakin' it?
Mitch: (laughs sarcastically) Yeah, right! You couldn't fake satisfaction if your life depended on it!
Cissy: And you couldn't give satisfaction if your life fucking depended on it!
Mitch: Yeah? (He walks over to her, pulls her to her feet, and gets in her face) Maybe you just need to get fucked again.
Cissy: Too bad you're not up to the task. (She looks at John) Shit, John has a better chance of hitting the spot than you do.
Mitch: (Picks her up and throws her over his arm) I'm gonna fuck you silly, woman! (He looks at John) You better go out and wait on the porch, John--things are about to get X-rated in here.
John: Barry White's in the house (He walks out the front door and sits on the porch.)
(Before the door even shuts behind him, Mitch throws Cissy down on the kitchen table. She pulls his shorts and boxers down and takes him, engorged, in her hands. He rips her pants and shirt off and knocks everything off the table before sprawling her out and getting to work. The table legs creak like banshees under the force and thrust of the lovers. Mitch makes long, measured pumps, as Cissy digs her nails into his back. After twenty minutes on top of the table, he lifts her up, still inside, and throws her against the wall. She wraps her legs around him and runs her hands through his hair, clenching and pulling it as he moves inside her. They kiss passionately on the lips. He works her body like a machine until sinking to the floor and finishing on the tile. Both spent, they lay on there for a few minutes, wrapped in each other's arms until finding the energy to get up and collect themselves. Neither says anything, but when their eyes meet, they exchange knowing looks.)
(After awhile the front door opens, and Mitch and Cissy walk out, nearly tripping over John, still sitting on the porch, in the process.)
Cissy: Never showed, huh?
John: (Mimicking their lovemaking noises)Uhhhhh... Oooooh... Ohhhhhhh...yeah...that's right! Uh-huh, right there, Big Man! You like that?! How 'bout this?! Uuuuuh!
Mitch: (blushing) You were listening to us?
John: I listen to you.
Cissy: Fuckin' perv! (She smiles) Oh well, I guess we gave him an fucking education.
John: A fucking education. Perv-dick-mouhtful.
Mitch: (embarrassed, but proud of himself) Yes we did...
John: You hit it right, Mitch! (He walks over to Cissy and pats below her stomach.) Work here.
Cissy: Get your fuckin' hands off me, Area 51! (She knocks his hand off her and walks to her car, parked in the driveway to the side of the house.) Let's go to the pier. We better hurry or we'll miss the interview. Someone needs to be there to make sure Butchie doesn't fuck it up, as usual.
Mitch: Yeah, we better get over there. (He follows Cissy)
Cissy: (to John, still sitting on the porch) You comin' or what, Pygar?
John: Cass will soon be here.
Cissy: Whatever...just don't get fuckin' lost! Or hit by a fuckin' car or fall into a damn hole.
Mitch: Maybe we shouldn't leave him.
Cissy: He'll be fine. Or maybe you're just hoping to get another shot with Blondie.
Mitch: (opens the passenger door) Shut up.
Cissy: Make me. (gets in the car and shuts the door behind her)
Mitch: Keep it up and I'll fuck you senseless again.
Cissy: Promise?
Mitch: (He puts his hand on her upper thigh and squeezes, dipping his fingertips between her clothed thighs) Scout's Honor. (They grin at each other and pull out of the driveway, waving goodbye to John. They only get a few blocks before Mitch is forced to teach Cissy another lesson.)
- Walkara
-------------------
(Cass anxiously pulls in front of the Yost house, dreading another confrontation with Cissy. She considers leaving, but catches sight of John, sitting on the porch with a huge smirk on his face.)
Cass: (from her car) Hi John.
John: Hi Cass. (He gets up, shuffles to the car, and gets in.)
Cass: Where are we going, John?
John: We're going, Cass. (He points up and takes her hand)
Click
(Cass looks up, blinks, and when her eyes come back down, finds herself sitting on a patch of brilliant green grass on the bank of lake, a pristine mirror to the sky. American elm, basswood, sugar maple, and red oak surround the area, with an understory of ironwood, green ash, and aspen. John holds her hand tightly.)
Cass: (Takes a deep breath, savoring the fresh air) It's beautiful, John. It makes me homesick.
John: (sitting, he pulls her down with him.) It makes me homesick.
Cass: Where are we?
John: Homesick.
Cass: (laying back in the grass) What are we doing here?
John (grins at her) See the colors, Cass?
Cass: (pulls his sleeve) Lay down by me.
(John complies, and Cass nuzzles against his chest)
Cass: John?
John: Cass?
Cass: ...when your mission is over, what happens to you?
John: I don't know Butchie instead.
Cass: (She turns the other way and throws his arm around her) Hold on to me, John. I feel like I'm losing myself. These memory lapses are starting to scare me. I trust you, and your Father too, I guess, but the scope of this thing terrifies me. You know? I mean, what's the point?
John: (puts his head against hers) 'The point' doesn't ring a bell.
Cass: Nevermind. I'm just off today. It's my pop's birthday. (closes her eyes, tears well in them and slide down her cheeks) The last time I saw him, he told me that the only way to be free was to be alone. For some reason, the whiskey on his breath reassured me when he said that. At the time, I told myself that the booze made him feel that way. Now I understand that feeling that way is what drove him to the bottle. He'd come stumbling home from one of his crazy binges, and my mom would help him into the bathtub, fix him something to eat, and tuck him in bed. But I'll never forget the look in her eyes; she had love for him, but under that, pity, and relief, was pure hate. The way she'd rant and rave when he was gone, cursing him to hell, vowing to blow his head off, I was always worried that one day she would. He wasn't a mean drunk--I mean he hit her a couple times--but he mostly just sat on the couch, drinking Coors and watching TV--that is, of course, when he wasn't spending all our money at the track or the bar. The last time he left, my mom said she'd kill him if he ever came back. The thing is, she still waits for him. Whether to kill him or bathe him is beyond me. But she's always waiting for him to come home...(she shudders)...I'm cold.
(John puts his hand on her heart. She turns, facing him, and looks into his boyish face.)
Cass: Do you...like me, John?
John: I like you.
Cass: Kiss me then.
John: (thinking) As long as we're being stupid...(He leans toward her and pecks her with his lips, like a bird with it's beak)
Cass: What was that?
John: Zippy kissed Shaun.
Cass: You have to move your lips, John, like this. (She pushes her lips into his and kisses him. He holds perfectly still.) No, you have to kiss me back.
(John tries again, awkwardly, moving his lips on hers. She kisses very well, and he eventually matches her rhythm.)
Cass: (Pulling away from him) That's pretty good, but practice makes perfect. (She leans in for more.)
(They kiss until John gets the hang of it and takes the lead.)
Cass: (Coming up for air) Wow, you're a fast learner, John.
John: I'm high performance.
Cass: I don't know about that, John. We've only scratched the surface.
John: Bring down the hammer? Get rid of this unsightly bulge?
Cass: (Feeling his unsightly bulge against her leg) Not that fast, John! (She smiles and pecks him on the lips, then faces the other way, wrapping his arms around her. She relishes his warmth and, slowly, falls to sleep.)
(Cass opens her eyes and looks down to find herself back in her car, outside the Yost house, with John sitting shotgun.)
Cass: (Shaking her head, she starts the car) This just gets weirder and weirder.
John: Chakra to chakra.
- Walkara
-------------------
(Butchie and Shaun sit in resin chairs at the edge of the pier, with the ocean to their backs. Shaun, having just arrived, late, is slumped in his chair. Butchie shoots him suspicious looks while a stout reporter clips a microphone to his shirt, then does the same to Shaun. Catching a whiff of alcohol on his breath when she leans in, she grins to herself but says nothing.)
Butchie: I thought this was for Surfer Magazine. What's the fuckin' camera for?
Reporter: (Sits in a chair facing Butchie and Shaun, with the camera over her shoulder) Oh, umm, they had a conflict of interest...so they passed the interview off to us. (to her cameraman) How's the shot?
Cameraman: It's fine.
Butchie: Where the fuck are you guys from then?
Reporter: (in disbelief) You don't recognize me?! I'm Holly Wester with Hollywood Tonight.
Butchie: Oh. Whadda you wanna interview a couple surfers for?
Holly Wester: You're kidding, right? You guys have crossed-over. You're mainstream now! (She looks at him with an enthusiasm that quickly turns to shock when she realizes her excitement isn't shared.)
(Butchie looks at Shaun, holds out his fist and slides it up and down, feigning masterbation, as if to say, with sarcasm, 'big fuckin' deal')
Holly Wester: I hope you gentlemen are ready to begin the interview, because we're ready to roll. (She opens her mouth wide, holds her hands out, and shakes her head slightly, as if to say 'Ta Da!')
Shaun: (looks at Butchie, attempting a whisper) I hate her.
Butchie: Shhhh...(turns red, grins at the reporter) Gives us a minute, willya? (to Shaun) Pipe it, braugh! (leans toward him, whispering) What's your fuckin' deal, buddy?
Shaun: Nuthin'.
Butchie: (getting a whiff of Shaun breath) Are you fuckin' drunk?!
Shaun: No. (hiccups) Yes.
Butchie: That's just fuckin' great Shaunie! You want everyone to think you're a fuck-up like your old man??
Shaun: (shrugs) Whatever...
Butchie: (turns his chair to face Shaun) Listen to me, pal: you've gotta a fuckin' example to set. Understand?
Shaun: Why? I don't wanna be a stupid 'example'.
Butchie: Too fuckin' bad, man. You've got a responsibility.
Shaun: Fuck that.
Butchie: Hey! watch it, bud.
Holly Wester: (butting-in) Gentlemen? We're not going to be able to use any of this unless you watch the profanity. Okay?
Butchie: That camera's not filmin' yet, is it?
Holly Wester: (lies) No...I'm sure it isn't. (changing the subject) So...Butchie--scoot your chair back where it was dear (he complies)--thank you--Butchie, it's been a long, hard road for you. It's no secret that you've struggled with drug addiction for years. Are you clean now? And, if so, what was your bottom?
Butchie: Um, yeah, I'm clean. My bottom?
Holy Wester: Yes, your lowest point. Why don't you relive that for us?
Butchie: Ah, no thanks.
Holly Wester: Why not?
Butchie: Why don't you tell me about the worst fuckin' time in your life.
Holly Wester: No swearing, please. (shakes her finger at him) Just think of all the people that your message could help.
Butchie: What message??--I'm a surfer. How the hell is my 'bottom' gonna help anyone?
Holly Wester: By inspiring other addicts to change.
Butchie: That doesn't really work.
Holly Wester: ...How did you get clean then?
Butchie: Um, I guess my friend John helped me.
Holly Wester: (looking over her notes) John....you mean "John Monad', your surfing student?
Butchie: That's right. He's been a good fuckin' influence.
Holly Wester: Language!
Butchie: Oh, fuck, right...shit! I mean: okay.
Holly Wester: (To Shaun) How has your dad's addiction affected you, Shaun. I understand that your grandparents have legal custody of you.
Shaun: I live with my dad and John now.
Holly Wester: I see...so, John and your dad...live together? Hmm...
Butchie: It's not what you're thinkin', lady. He just needed a place to crash is all. I've got a lady.
Holly Wester: Shaun's mother, Tina Blake, the notorious Porn Star?
Butchie: Tina? No, we're pals though. I wouldn't call her "notorious" either. She's retiring from the business.
Holly Wester: Is it true she left Shaun on your mother's doorstep when he was a baby?
Shaun: (interrupts) Nope.
Holly Wester: I was told by a very reliable source that it was true. (She looks to Butchie for confirmation)
Butchie: (grins at Shaun) You heard wrong, lady.
Holly Wester: Very well...let's switch gears and talk about Shaun's accident. Would either of you call what happened a miracle?
(Butchie and Shaun look at each other then shake their heads 'No'.)
Holly Wester: So, reports that Shaun broke his neck and was pronounced dead at the hospital are erroneous?
Butchie: You mean like 'false'? Yeah, the fuckin' doctors read his chart wrong or somethin'. We're just glad he's okay though.
Holly Wester: (frustrated) Mr. Yost, please watch your language! Don't make me remind you again. This is TV, not HBO.
Butchie: Oh yeah, right.
Holly Wester: Shaun, when you were reported as missing, where did you go?
Shaun: (looks at Butchie for approval) Cincinnati (He points up)
(Butchie turns white)
Holly Wester: With John Monad, you father's live-in "student," correct?
Shaun: Uh-huh.
Holly Wester: I understand Mr. Monad took you without the consent of your legal guardian?
Shaun: We sent 'em a message.
Holly Wester: Why Cincinnati?
Shaun: John's from there. They wanna sponsor me.
Holly Wester: Who?
(Shaun shrugs)
Butchie: (jumping in) He means John's people, in Cincinnati. John comes from money; his people wanna sponsor Shaun.
Holly Wester: Who are 'his people'?
Butchie: (thinking) They, ah, they...they'd prefer to remain anonymous.
Holly Wester: (to herself) Another brick wall. (Switching gears) Alright, let's go back to the subject of addiction for a minute.
Butchie: Really? Doncha wanna ask us 'bout the expo on Saturday?
Holly Wester: How long have you been sober?
Butchie: (to himself) Guess not. (pause) Shit, I guess it's been almost two weeks.
Holly Wester: Only two weeks?! My sources tell me that you've been a heroin junkie for ten years, and now you're telling me that you've only been clean two weeks?? Shouldn't you be in withdrawal? This doesn't add up.
Butchie: I'm a fast healer, I guess.
Holly Wester: That's an understatement. Did you do anything specific, to help you quit?
Butchie: Started gettin' back in the water.
Holly Wester: Surfing, you mean?
Butchie: (rhetorically) What else is there?
Holly Wester: (shakes her head in frustration) I guess I'm not gonna get a straight answer out of you, Mr. Yost. (consults her notes) I have one last question, for Shaun.
Shaun: Yeah?
Holly Wester: In the last week, you've gone from relative obscurity to the national spotlight. How have you adapted to all the attention?
Shaun: I don't know. Okay, I guess. (He looks her up and down with contempt) Can I ask you a question?
Holly Wester: I suppose.
Shaun: Do you like doin' this?
Holly Wester: You mean, my job? Interviewing people?
Shaun: Uh-huh.
Holly Wester: I love it!
Shaun: I think it sucks.
Butchie: (stern) That's not nice, Shaunie!
Shaun: (To Butchie) What?! I do! And so do you dad! I don't trust her. (looks at Holly) You go around sticking your nose in everyone's business, askin' a bunch of dumb questions that nobody wants to answer. Don't you have anything better to do? I mean, is this what you wanted to be when you were a kid like me?
Butchie: Shut up, Shaunie!
Holly Wester: (To Butchie) It's okay. (looks Shaun in the eye) I love my job. I get to jet around, wearing designer clothes, interviewing celebrities. This is exactly what I wanted when I was your age: famous!
Shaun: But you're not famous. You're just some lady that asks famous people a bunch of question they don't wanna answer.
Holly Wester: For your information, Mr. Know-it-all, I've been invited to attend several celebrity gold tournaments, I've had walk-on rolls on Two and A Half Men and Las Vegas!--I once spent the weekend at Donald Trump's house in Martha's Vineyard. I've got Gary Sinise, Molly Ringwald, and Charo on speed dial!
Shaun: Who are they?
Holly Wester: Who are they?? (She shakes her head in her hands) You must live an incredibly sheltered life! They're big stars: that's who they are! I scored the third interview with Lohan after she got out of rehab--the fourth time.
Butchie: (doing damage control) He doesn't mean nuthin' by it.
Shaun: Yeah, I do. I think she's a "blood-sucker," just like gramps says.
Holly Wester: (aghast) I was led to believe that this young man was respectful and well-mannered! I haven't been this insulted since Bjork hit me over the head with a parking cone--and at least she's a real star, not just some wanna be "alternative athlete"! This interview is over! (She goes over and rips the microphones off their shirts) I'll be sure to let everyone know just how dysfunctional this family really is! (to Butchie) And, by the way, I think your son has been drinking. It's obvious that your problem with substance abuse, your rehabilitation from which I find highly suspect, has had a seriously damaging effect on your son!
Butchie: (Stand up) You know what: fuck off, lady! Go waste someone else's fuckin' time! (stands up, motions to Shaun) C'mon, pal. We're done listenin' to this fuckin' vampire's bullshit.
Holly Wester: Maybe that's the problem. Maybe if you listened to the advice of a normal person, your son wouldn't be following in your disgraced footsteps!
Shaun: (following Butchie, turns around) Suck my dick, bitch! (Flips her off)
Holly Wester: (snaps) Fuck you, you miserable, little shit! (Screams) I wish your damn neck was broken!
(Unaware until now of the large crowd watching her, Holly feels a rush of humiliation. She gathers her things up, angrily.)
Billy Bush: Holly! It's Billy Bush, from Access Hollywood. (facetiously) Nice interview.
Holly Wester: Go fuck yourself, Billy, you miserable little tool!
(Butchie and Shaun walk down the pier. Butchie's arm is around Shaun's shoulder)
Butchie: You can't start that shit, Shaunie. You hear me?
Shaun: It was just a couple drinks, dad. Sheesh, lighten up.
Butchie: That's how it starts, dude. There's nuthin' wrong with havin' a good time, but there's a fuckin' time and place for it, okay? You're only fourteen! You can't go around gettin' drunk in the middle of the day, 'specially when you're gonna fuckin' be on TV.
Shaun: But I didn't know I was gonna be on TV.
Butchie: Good point, but you know what I mean. Your gram's gonna go ape-shit when she hears about this. I kinda thought they'd be here, but I'm sure glad they ain't now. (he sighs) I just don't want you makin' the same fuckin' mistakes as me, sport. You've got way too much fuckin' promise to piss it away like I did. Think of all them years I wasted high 'stead of bein' your dad. It kills me, buddy. And hell if I'm gonna let you fuck yourself up like that.
Shaun: You don't gotta worry about me, dad. I won't. You're overreacting. I'm not gonna make your mistakes. 'Sides, you don't really have any credibility when it comes to this stuff, pop.
Butchie: Ain't that the fuckin' truth. But that won't stop me from tryin' to keep you in-line, bro. (hooks his arm around Shaun's neck, draws him in, and tousles his hair) You're my main man, Shaunie. We're finally a fuckin' team, and I ain't gonna let nuthin' fuck that up again.
Shaun: Good. (suddenly feeling nauseated) I think I'm gonna be sick. (He bends over and puke of the boardwalk, then pukes again)
Butchie: (grins) Here comes...I mean, there goes the second part of the lesson. (he crouched down and rubs Shaun's back) Did you get it all out?
Shaun: I think so...(he leans over and pukes three more times) Uuuuuggghhhh....I need to lay down.
Butchie: (helping him up) I better take you home. (He throws Shaun's arm over his shoulder and helps him to the VW Van, parked across the beach)
- Walkara
-------------------
(A dark-haired man sits at a table in a coffee shop somewhere. He's wearing a black, tailored, designer suit. Perfect bone structure, flawless skin, and extremely fit, ripped even, he stares at his own handsomeness, reflected back to him by the compact mirror in his hand. He opens his mouth wide, checking his teeth for non-existent imperfections. When satisfied with his visage, he puts the mirror in his suit jacket, and reclines back in his chair.)
Waitress: (carrying a dish of cottage cheese and pears) Here you go. (she sets it down in front of him) Would you like another green tea, sir?
Man: No. No thank you. I will take a glass of grapefruit juice, however. (He smiles at her, considering how his beauty has improved her otherwise lackluster day) Do you have a name? (He asks coyly)
Waitress: Sherma. (She points to her name tag)
Man: Oh yes. How silly of me! Thank you for everything, Sher...Sherma. (His tongue trips over her name, disliking the ugliness of it)
Sherma: I'll be right back with your juice. (She leaves)
(The man turn his attention to his cottage cheese and pairs. He feeds himself immaculately, with perfect measured portions balanced just so on his fork.)
Sherma: (Setting down his juice) There you are. (She reaches into her apron and pulls out a slip of paper) Here's your bill. Just pay at the front on your way out. My replacement is here (She points to a pretty middle-aged woman) Verlene over there will help you out if you need anything.
Man: (dissatisfied) What if I don't want Verlene's "help"?
Sherma: Uh...I don't know.
Man: (Reaches into his pocket and hands her a wad of cash) Keep the change. (He pushes his dish aways from him, takes a swallow of the juice and sets it back down before standing up) I've got to be going myself.
Sherma: Oh. Okay. (She takes his money) Thanks for the tip.
Man: Don't mention it. So, where are you headed?
Sherma: Home. I've gotta get ready for my sons T-ball game this afternoon.
Man: Are you married?
Sherma: No.
(He grins)
Man: I have some time to kill before my meeting. You feel like some company?
Sherma: (hesitant) I don't know...I don't even know your name.
Man: It's Alabaster. Frank Alabaster. Problem solved. (He smiles a harmless smile and offers his hand)
Sherma: Nice to meet to meet ya. (She shakes his hand) I'm Sherma Nicol.
Alabaster: (kisses her hand) Charmed.
Sherma: (blushing) I live just around the corner. I'll grab you a to-go box for your lunch, and you can finish it there.
Alabaster: (nods) A fine idea.
(Twenty minutes later, Frank Alabaster walks around her apartment, looking at pictures, scrutinizing the life she willing displays to visitors. Sherma is in the shower, washing the grease off. After a few minutes of getting a good sense of her, he goes to the couch and sits down. Several minutes pass before Sherma walks out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel.)
Sherma: (She strolls over to him) So, what do you wanna do? (She lets her towel fall to the ground, exposing her supple, naked body.)
Alabaster: Come here (He lures her closer with his finger)
Sherma: (standing over him) Is this close enough?
Alabaster: Come closer.
Sherma: (straddling him) Is this better?
Alabaster: A little. (He runs his hands up her sides; the feeling of flesh against flesh makes him excited)
Sherma: I can't get any closer. (She rubs her exposed breasts against his clothed chest)
Alabaster: I wanna feel you from the inside.
Sherma: (unbuttoning his pants) Let's get started then.
Alabaster: Whatever you say, baby. (He brings his hands up her sides to her neck and grabs her, he flips her over so he's on top of her, and throttles her.)
(Struggling with everything she has, kicking, trying to scream, Sherma eventually loses consciousness. When she wakes back up, she is bound and gagged in the bathtub. Alabaster stands over her, devastatingly handsome, with a bloodthirsty look on his face)
Alabaster: You're a very, very ugly, ugly girl, Sherma--with a hideous name to compliment your wretched frame. (He leans down and clenches her naked breasts in his hand) I've missed my meeting, but I simply couldn't start until you regained consciousness. It's no fun if I can't see the terror in your eyes, darling.
(He leans down, pulls a large, sharp deer-hunting knife from his pocket and cuts her from chin to genitals. Screams muffled by the duct tape over her mouth, she watches blood pool on her stomach as he puts rubber gloves on his perfectly manicured hands.)
Alabaster: Now, lets see just what you're made of. (He digs his hands into her then pulls everything within his grasp out of her, and spreads it across her twitching body) Ahh, yes (His eyes flicker with glee)
(An hour later, Frank Alabaster stands over what used to be a human body, now a stew of flesh, hair, blood and guts in the bathtub. He removes his gloves, puts them in a zip lock bag. and gathers his 'tools' back into his briefcase.)
(His Phone rings)
Alabaster: (answers) Yes? (pause) This is Mr. Alabaster...I apologize, sir. I got distracted by a waitress. (Pause) Indeed! I read some rather alarming things from her insides. (Pause) Oh no, sir. Nothing we need worry about. (Pause) You have an assignment for me? How delightful! (Listening) Imperial Beach? (Pause) I can be there first thing in the morning. (Pause) As have you, Mr. Craven.
- Walkara
-------------------
[Once again the Internet Café is awash in customers. Jerri can hardly take a breath let alone a break as she takes and rings up order after order. Dwayne is finding it difficult to concentrate on his web site as his computer is located nearest to the restrooms, and several people have bumped into him on their way in and out. Doris enters into the chaos and goes to stand next to Jerri behind the counter.]
Doris: Looks like business has picked up in the last couple of days.
Jerri: [to customer]: That will be $6.45 [takes money from customer]. Doris I can see why you have risen to the pinnacle of the financial world.
Doris: [lowers her voice so the customer cant hear] I really need for you to pay up Jerri.
[Jerri begins to make the customers order.]
Jerri: [also lowers her voice] And I thought you were going to give lap dances to the customers as they surf the Internet. You just had to come in here at the worst possible moment.
Doris: You have had 46 days to avoid this situation. You are not the only one with money problems.
Jerri: [hands cup to customer] One large Caffe Mocha.
Customer: Thanks. [He leaves.]
Jerri: Could you possibly wait another hour and half? By that time I will have driven everyone out of here.
Doris: You owe me $1600 for the past two months and a $50 penalty fee.
Jerri: I said. [Pause] Come back in a fuckin hour and 30 minutes.
Doris: OK, but I will return.
Jerri: You and fuckin MacArthur.
[Doris leaves and Jerri goes back to taking orders.]
- theshriek
-------------------
(Bill follows a trail of feathers, many of which Joe and Magdalena suspect to be seagull feathers, though they bite their tongues. After weaving in and out of residential areas for a few hours, they find themselves cruising around an abandoned business park. )
Bill: (Leaning forward) There's another one! (slams on the breaks)
Joe: Where?
Bill: Right fuckin' in front of you! (he points again, turning the truck off) There! (He gets out and walks to the feather.)
Joe: How much more a-this shit do we gotta fuckin' take, Mags? I know ya wanna help Bill, but we're wastin' our time, driving in fuckin' circles, chasin' goddam feathers!
Magdalena: I know, Joe, but Bill needs our support. Did you see how his hands are shaking? He puts on a brave front, but he's very scared. I know how that feels.
Joe: Oh. (bites his lip) We'll find your boy, Mags. Don't you worry 'bout that, y'hear?
Magdalena: I hope so...
Bill: (Out of sight, yelling) Joe! Get the hell over here!
Joe: (looks at Magdalena) Musta found somethin'.
(They get out of the truck and walks around the side of the business park. Bill is standing in a dumpster, digging through garbage frantically)
Joe: (Runs to him) Jesus! Bill, what the hell's goin' on. (Nearing, he sees a gnarled, empty birdcage at the foot of the dumpster, with white feathers strewn around it) Shit.
Magdalena: (Runs past Joe and hops in the dumpster with Bill, helping him dig) ¿Qué estamos buscando?
(They search in silence for a few minutes.)
Bill: (panic fading, he braces himself by putting his hand on the rim of the dumpster, slumps over, then leans back, putting his other hand over his heart, and takes measured breaths.) Thank God in Heaven! Oh thank you Lord! Thank goodness... (He rest his other hand on the rim, leans forward and chuckles) They're not here. Phew! Jesus Chrisht Almighty! (He leans over the rim, throws one leg over and slides out of the dumpster sloppily.)
(Magdalena takes Joe's hand and he lifts her out)
Bill: Fuckin' Hell! I'm covered in shit-stinking filth, putrescent goddam rot--and all I can fuckin' think is 'thank God nuthin' happened to my goddam birds!' (He walks away from the others, into the empty back lot. He puts his hands on his hips, shaking it off like a football coach after a bad play.) I'm comin' for ya, Zippy. (He shakes his fist at the sky, then turns around to face Joe and Magdalena) What're you two mopes starin' at? Let's get going: the day's wastin' and we gotta stay on the trail 'less we want it to go fuckin' cold! The first 24 hours are most important in missing person cases. (He looks at Magdalena, relieved she can't understand him, spared a foot in the mouth)
Joe: What now?
Bill: We follow those goddam tire tracks. (He points to a set of track leading away from the dumpster, down the street.)
(In a lab somewhere, Zippy and Her Ladyship are caged together, a fact that wouldn't annoy Zip so much, especially considering their current dire-seeming predicament, if not for Her Ladyship's excessive whining and apall. The room is dimly lit at the moment, but lined with cages of all sizes and shapes, filled with not just many varieties of bird but also mammal and reptile. Having spent over an hour trying to undo the latch and failing repeatedly, Zippy hops from one place to another, trying to get a sense of their surroundings. He considers dematerializing and setting off to find Bill, but Her Ladyship is adamantly opposed to it, not possessing, or realizing, the same abilities as Zippy--and terrified to be left alone, however loathe to admit. So he sticks by her side, and brainstorms an escape for the time being.)
Voice: Hey, you, over here.
(Zippy looks around for the source of the voice)
Voice: To your left. Here.
(Across the way, Zippy spots a wing waving at them, half-covered in shadow.)
Voice: (stepping into the dim light, a Congo African Gray Parrot folds it's wings and shakes) You can't escape. It's no use. Even if you were to get out of that cage, this place is a veritable maze of peril. I'm afraid you better get used to your new home.
(Zippy compliments the bird's light gray feathers, cherry red tail, and black beak, but insists that he will find an escape.)
Voice: I certainly admire your resolve, friend, but I've been here for more years than I wasn't and learned long ago that there was no escape. I learned to find peace in the knowledge that I have some value to these new masters. If we don't prove ourselves valuable, then we're expendable (He moves his head toward a door at the end of the hall) and they take you in there (He shakes).
(Zippy informs him that an operative and friend has been dispatched to find them and set them free, and if the other bird wished, he could be liberated also)
Voice: I'm afraid I'm past hope, friend; but should this miraculous, albeit far-fetched, tale of yours manifest on the side of truth, I would be grateful to follow you into freedom. I was once called Warren Wordsworth, by a lovely elderly couple that took me in as a hatch-ling but were forced to sell me off when I was discovered to be the source of the wife's terrible allergies. These masters call me Charlie, which I suppose is preferable, if only for it's ease and familiarity.
(Zippy gives him a brief synopsis of his history, and introduced Her Ladyship, who is sleeping.)
Charlie: A pleasure to meet you, Zippy. I've longed for some civilized interaction. Most of the other detainees have gone mad from testing and prolonged confinement.
(Zippy returns his sentiments, then hops to the back of the cage and continues brainstorming an escape/rescue plan, determined to leave no man, or beast, as the case may be, behind.)
- Walkara
-------------------
(Cissy and Mitch get outta the car and walk down the beach, toward the pier. Cissy straightens her clothes and marches a few feet ahead of Mitch, waking awkwardly as a result of cock-soreness from too much action.)
Mitch: Hey, Cissy, hold up for a second. (He stops, adjust himself, and hobbles over to her.)
Cissy: Jesus, Mitch...are you gonna make it or what? (Smiles sarcastically) I didn't fuckin' realize how out-of-practice you were.
Mitch: Don't start that. I don't have another "lesson" left in me.
Cissy: We'll see about that...(shields the sun's glare from her eyes and looks down the pier) We obviously missed the fuckin' interview. I just hope Butchie didn't totally fuck-it-up.
Mitch: Cut him a break, Cissy. He's doin' fine.
Cissy: Yeah: right now. But somebody needs to keep an eye on him, make sure he doesn't take another fuckin' dive into the dumpster.
Mitch: He's got Kai.
Cissy: Yeah? Except she's fuckin' leavin'!
Mitch: She'll be back. She waited for Butchie all these years; it's his turn return the favor.
Cissy: When it comes to that dipshit, it's only a matter of time before he fucks up.
Mitch: I know I've never been in his corner before, but I think our boy, er, man, has grown-the-fuck up.
Cissy: Well, fuck you, Mitch.
Mitch: You're a fucking bitch, you know?
Cissy: (half smile) And I'm all yours. (She slaps his ass.)
(They walk down the pier until they come across a large crowd. Pushing through to the middle, leaving Mitch behind, Cissy catches sight of a man and woman wrestling like animals on the ground, pulling each other's hair and swapping insults.)
Cissy: (to the man to her left) What the fuck's goin' on here?
Man: The lady's interview blew up in her face, and that little leprechaun-lookin' guy kept talkin' trash until she finally just attacked him.
Cissy: What interview? With Butchie and Shaun Yost?
Man: Yeah, the kid was drunk and started mouthin' off; eventually that lady snapped. It was pretty funny.
Cissy: (turning red) Shaun was drunk?! (under her breath) He's fucking dead! (She storms back to Mitch) (mocking him) "I think he's doing a good job." Fuckin' idiot! For you information, Shaun was drunk during the interview, caused a bunch of shit.
Mitch: That little piss-pot! Okay, it's okay, just relax Cissy, until we get the whole story. For all we know, Butchie's got it all under control.
Cissy: Butchie's got it under control? Are you fucking high now?? Butchie is a master of the fuck-up! I should've known better than to let Shaunie move in with that fuckin' moron!
Mitch: It wasn't your choice, Cissy! Butchie is Shaun's father, whether you like it or not--whether he's been there for him in the past or not, it's his job now. Let him deal with it, okay?
Cissy: So, what, Mitch? I'm just suppposed to sit here while Butchie turns Shaunie into the same kind of fuck-up?! No. No way! I didn't waste the last 14 years of my life to have it undone in a few goddam days! (She storms past Mitch, back toward the car.)
Mitch: (rolls his eyes) Dammit! Hey, Cissy, wait up! (He ambles after her, careful to minimize the friction against his crotch.)
- Walkara
-------------------
(Butchie's van pulls up to the motel; he walks around to the passenger side, and helps Shaun out of the car)
Butchie: Come on bud (He walks Shaun over to room F, looking over and seeing Ramon and the Doc who are sitting on folding chairs drinking, he gives a thumbs up behind his head with his free right hand.
Butchie and Shaun go inside, and Shaun flops on the bed. Butchie walks over to the sink, finds the least dangerous looking glass gives it a quick rinse and pours a glass of water. He heads back to the bed)
Butchie: You alright, bud?
Shaun: Yeah.
Butchie: Cool. Drink this, it'll help, trust me.
Shaun: Okay dad. (he downs it) I'm gonna take a nap.
Butchie: Good idea. But lose the fuckin' shoes eh, bud?
(Shaun kicks his shoes off onto the floor. Butchie smiles and heads outside and over to the doc and Ramon)
Ramon: Looks like Shaun's not feeling so hot.
Butchie: Yeah he's had a busy fucking day! Chasing chicks, getting wasted, pissing off TV reporters.
Doc: He's drunk?
Butchie: Yeah. Don't worry Doc, I know what you're gonna say. I'm gonna keep him straight. He's a good kid...
Doc: I was going to ask if you want me to check on him.
Butchie: Nah, he'll be fine. Hell, after puking his guts out, he probably won't even feel that bad when he wakes up. Well at least until my ma finds out. Then he's gonna wish he was fuckin' deaf. It ain't no walk in the park, I can tell you, but I guess another earful'll do him good. Christ! I never thought I'd hear that shit coming out of my mouth. Of course she's got plenty of that fuckin' mouth to go around. I ain't gonna hear the end of it either.
Doc: Why was he drinking?
Butchie: Just hanging with some other groms. Guess he was trying to impress a chick, but it turns out he fuckin' blows at quarters
Ramon: Quarters is a good game.
Butchie: Not when you're fuckin' fourteen. Anyways, I prefer "asshole" (he grins from ear to ear)
Ramon: You want a drink, Butchie?
Butchie: Thanks, but no thanks. I'd be a complete dick if I sat here drinking after giving him shit for it. Good thing is, with all the food you got around here now, I get to have something other than fuckin' Corona for breakfast.
(He eyes the huge pizza box down on the ground, the drink in Ramon's hand and the other workers laboring around the motel)
Looks like management is treating you good, Ramon!
Ramon: My day off. (Pointing at the pizza) There's some left if you want. Linc bought it anyway.
Butchie: Well whatdya know? Linc fuckin' Stark spreading the wealth! (he opens the box and screws his face in disgust) beans, anchovies, jalapenos? What were you thinking? I eat that shit and Shaunie ain't gonna be the only one blowing chunks!
Ramon: It's my mother's recipe.
Butchie: And I thought my ma couldn't fuckin' cook.
- backinthegame
-------------------
(Linc approaches Tina's Hotel room. He hesitates but knocks on the door anyway. He waits a few minutes before knocking again. No one answers. He pulls her spare key out of his pocket and slides it into the reader.)
Linc: (opening the door, nervously) Tina? You here?
(No one answers.)
Linc: (checking in the back room) Tina? (realizing she's gone, to himself) Where'd you go?
(Linc takes the elevator down to the front desk)
Linc: (to desk clerk) Did Tina Blake leave with someone?
Clerk: (scrutinizing him) I can't give out that information, sir.
Linc: (slips him fifty bucks) How about now?
Clerk: She had the valet park her car and went up stairs hours ago. (Leans in, suggestively) How do you know her?
Linc: What the fuck is it to you??
Clerk: (indignant) It was just a question.
Linc: Was it? It sounded more like an implication to me. (walks off) Fuckin' asshole. (He goes back to the elevator and pushes 'Up'.) (to himself) Tina, where the hell are you?
(Someplace else, Tina sits on a beach, watching a sea lion argue with a cantankerous sea gull over the location of an exit.)
Tina: (Interrupting) So...how do I get back to Imperial Beach?
Lucius: You don't.
Quinctius: That's not true and you know it, Lucius. (to Tina) You just can't go back until we're done here.
Tina: 'Done' with what?
Quinctius: Your consultation.
Tina: What consultation? I've been watching you two argue for half and hour--what does that have to do with me?
Lucius: I've been wondering the same thing! (to Quinctius) What use could this "person" possibly be to us?
Quinctius: You know better than that, Lucius! If she's here, that means she's supposed to be here. We were told to expect a new contact, and voila! here she is!
Tina: But, why? Why me? People are going to worry if I don't get back soon. Who told you to expect me?
Quinctius: The ocean. And you're here now, so it's out of our hands, dear. You have no choice but to wait until a purpose is made known to us.
(Resigning herself to being trapped, Tina stands, strips off her clothes, runs to the water, and dives into the strange, electric blue ocean.)
Lucius: Whoa! Check the ass on her!
Quinctius: Don't be a pig, Lucius. (The sea lion follows Tina into the ocean.)
Lucius: (taking flight, to himself) Blasted self-superior mammals!
- Walkara
-------------------
(Inside the main office of The Gypsum Travel Agency, a shapely, fifty-something woman wearing an all-white pantsuit sits behind her desk doing a crossword puzzle. Her hair is pinned tightly to her head and she is wearing a pair of vintage 1920s, tortoise-shell spectacles with unusual arms that cling to her head in a very functional and comfortable fashion.)
(The buzzer on her desk rings.)
Woman: Yes, Margaret?
Margaret: Sorry to bother you, Ms. Gypsum, but there's a 'Mr. Craven' here to see you. He says he's an old friend.
Woman: Send him in. (She puts her puzzle aside, removes her glasses, rubs her eyes then puts them back on).
(A harmless looking older gentlemen wearing a gray suit enters the room carrying a briefcase. He nods at the woman behind the desk.)
Woman: Shut the door; the room is sound-proofed. (She squints her eyes at him) What it is, Bernard?
Bernard Craven: (sitting in the chair opposite her desk) I'm sorry to bother you here, Madam, but I'm afraid there's a serious problem with your brother.
Madam: (sighs) What is it now?
Bernard Craven: I've indulged his delusions and fantasies as you ordered, but he's simply out of control.
Madam: How so, Bernard? Just spit it out.
Bernard Craven: His behavior has gone from alarming to just plain unstable--maniacal, even--growing worse by the day. I know you gave us strict instructions to indulge him, but his little "dalliances" are causing serious problems. A sketch artist's rendering, taken from a doorman in Michigan, is being circulated among law enforcement agencies.
Madam: This is familiar territory, Bernard. Why the sudden alarm?
Bernard Craven: The FBI has gotten involved. A profiler is connecting the case in Cleveland to some of the others. The media is calling him a serial killer, and flashing the sketch, a decent rendering, on television screens across the country every ten minutes. And you know how he likes to have a fuss made over him before he "plays".It's only a matter of time before someone recognizes him.
Madam: That does pose a problem. Dispatch some 'missionaries' to intercept him. I'll arrange to have him held at the family estate until such time as other arrangements can be made. The plan takes precedence. He'll be terribly unreasonable of course, but that can't be helped.
Bernard Craven: There have been some very disturbing developments, Madam Alabaster.
Madam Alabaster: (impatiently) Yes?
Bernard Craven: He now claims to be working on behalf of some sort of Demi-god or demon, and that his "dalliances" are offerings to this demon. He claims to receive divinations from their remains.
Madam Alabaster: He's a necromancer now? How creative. He was always so imaginative. --I hope you supported his claims.
Bernard Craven: Of course, of course. But, perhaps, it's time to get him some help.
Madam: (turns her chair to face the window behind her) He's sick, Bernard. He's always been sick and he'll always be sick. He's beyond help. What a beautiful monster though! He's very fragile, Bernard, much to fragile to be locked away. I depend on you of all my associates, to keep him safe. He's my burden to bear, which means he's your burden to bear.
Bernard Craven: I understand, Madam. How shall we proceed then?
Madam: Where is he now?
Bernard Craven: I manufactured another "mission" for him, to take care of a minor nuisance in California.
Madam: Specifically?
Bernard Craven: It's nowhere near being on your radar, Madam. Just some silly girl making waves with her camera out there. But, in accordance with the manifesto, we're trying to undermine any philosophical and/or social movement, however pathetic or small.
Madam : And you sent Frankie to...
Bernard Craven: ...Read her fortune. (grins)
Madam: Very well. But as soon as he's done with your little errand, I want him picked up and taken home. (She dismisses him with her hand) You may go.
Bernard Craven: One more thing, Madam...
Madam: (already back to her crossword puzzle, she rolls her eyes and looks up) One.
Bernard Craven: Mr. White is en--
Madam: (Interrupting, rising to her feet) --DO NOT FINISH THAT SENTENCE!
Bernard Craven: (cowering) I was only going to say--
Madam: (walks to him and smacks him across the face) Not one more consonant! Do you hear me??! It's bad enough, you showing up here and using that name, but don't you DARE break The Silence to me. EVER! But, especially here! Do you understand me?!
Bernard Craven: I'm sorry. I just thought it might expedite things if--
Madam: (seething) Bernard, you're going to walk out that door and leave...NOW! I don't want to hear from you again until my brother is safe. Now GO!
(He opens the door, cursing her under his breath as soon as it closes behind him.)
Margaret the receptionist: So, where did you decide to go?
Mr. Craven: Huh?
Margaret: On your trip?
Mr. Craven: Oh, right, um,...California, I guess.
Margaret: What part?
Mr. Craven: Imperial Beach.
Margaret: Where's that?
Bernard: Near the border with Mexico.
Margaret: (feigning excitement) Well, have fun!
Mr. Craven: (Walking outside) Not bloody likely.
- Walkara
-------------------
(Bill pulls in front of the VFW and lets Joe and Magdalena out. Joe closes the door behind him and leans in the window.)
Joe: Sorry the trail went cold, Bill. I guess we're gonna get a fuckin' room at the Snug, so we'll be ready to pick up where we left off in the mornin'. (waves) Just drop by the motel when you're ready to start again.
Bill: (distracted) Yeah, okay, whatever...
Joe: We'll find them goddam birds, Bill. Don't worry.
Bill: I know, I know. (starts pulling out) I'll see you tomorrow, Joe. (He drives down the street without a destination.) Fuckin' quitters! I'm not going home 'til I've got my damn birds back!
(Twenty minutes later, Joe and Magdalena arrive at The Snug Harbor Motel. They exit Joe's van and walk to the front desk. Spotting them from across the lot, Ramon gets up and follows them into the office.)
Ramon: (walking behind the desk) You lookin' for a room, Joe?
Joe: Yeah, we've gotta get an early fuckin' start in the morning; the commute from camp takes too goddam long.
Ramon: Most of the room are bein' remodeled...let me see what's left...
Joe: Somethin' with two beds?
Ramon: ...Sorry, Joe: it looks like all I've got is a single twin in room 28.
Magdalena: Vamos a tomarlo.
(Hours later, Joe and Magdalena are in their room. Magdalena is sprawled out across the bed. Joe is sitting on the floor with the remote, listening to the news. The room smells dank and dusty.)
Joe: (turns the tv off, chuckling) Shit, looks like Butchie's boy pushed that newswoman over the edge. (He yawns) Shit, it's pretty early, but I'm beat.
Magdalena: Me too. (She gets up and goes into the bathroom) I'm getting ready for bed.
Joe: Okay. (He scrambles to his feet, strips down to his t-shirt and boxer shorts, grabs a pillow and the bedspread from the bed and makes a bed on the floor.)
Magdalena: (exiting the bathroom, wearing only a t-shirt) Come share the bed with me, Joe. I feel guilty making you sleep on the ground every night. (She slips under the covers)
Joe: There ain't enough room.
Magdalena: What are you afraid of? I don't bite.
Joe: (red as a beet) ah...okay, if you insist. (He takes his bedding from the floor and gets into the bed next to her)
Magdalena: Good night, Joe. (She kisses him on the cheek then snuggles into her pillow)
Joe: (aroused) Um...G'night, Mags. (Joe spends the next hour chasing sleep before he finally catches it.)
- Walkara
-------------------
(Cissy's Stingray zooms into the Snug Harbor Parking Lot. Spotting her, Butchie drops his eighth slice of pizza and hurries to his cabin. Inside, he runs around the room trying to make everything presentable.)
Cissy: (Marches in) What the Fuck is wrong with you, your moronic piece-of-shit?!
Butchie: Hey, ma. (He fold his arms) What's up?
Cissy: How the fuck could you let Shaunie get drunk and go on national TV?? You fucking moron! (She punches him in the chest)
Butchie: (He takes her punch, grimacing) You heard, huh? (He braces himself for another attack)
Cissy: You're goddamn fucking right I heard! Three days with you, and Shaunie is drunk on every TV in America!
Butchie: He showed up drunk, ma. There wasn't shit I could do. 'Sides, you're the one that scheduled the fuckin' thing without checkin' to make sure we were up to it.
Cissy: I see. now it's my fault, you fucked up...
(Mitch enters the room)
Butchie: (strangely relieved to see his old man) Hey, pop.
Mitch: (looking at Shaun, passed out on the bed) Did he get sick?
Butchie: Did he fuckin' ever! Puked his head off all the way here. I'm gonna have to scrub the fuckin' van tomorrow.
Mitch: You might wanna do it now, before the stain sets and you're stuck with the puke smell indefinitely.
Cissy: Fuck your van! I'm takin' Shaunie home with us! You've already fuckin' proven that you can't be a decent goddam father!
Mitch: Cissy, back off. We all experimented with booze when we were Shaun's age; it's part of the process of growing.
Butchie: (Surprised by Mitch's support) Thanks, pop.
(Mitch gives him a sympathetic grin)
Cissy: Go fuck yourself, Mitch. Look how well that turned out for fuck-face over here. (She looks at Butchie then goes to wake Shaun up) Shaunie! Get up! You're comin' home with me and gramps.
Shaun: (sleepily) What?? (He looks at Cissy, eyes blinking)
Cissy: You heard me: get your ass up and into my car. You ain't gonna stay here after what-the-fuck happened today!
Shaun: (rolls onto him stomach, dismissively) I'm stayin' here, gram.
Cissy: (Jerking his arm) The fuck you are! Now get up!
Butchie: (throws Cissy's hand off Shaun's arm) Back the fuck off, ma! (Shocking himself) He's my fuckin' kid, and he's stayin' here. He made a fuckin' mistake, okay? He's still a good kid. I know you're just worried, but I got everything under control.
Cissy: Is that what you call this: "under control"?? (Stares at him) I guess after a motherfuckin' decade of turning everything you touch to shit, this must seem pretty tame.
Butchie: (puts his head down) I know we fucked up today, but it ain't that big a-deal. Just go on home. John and I will keep our eyes on Shaunie. Speaking of, where the hell is John?? (He looks at Cissy)
Cissy: We left him at the house; he was waiting for that little blond bitch to pick him up.
Butchie: How fuckin' long ago?
Cissy: I don't fucking know...a couple hours, I guess.
Butchie: (rubs his face with his hands) I told you to keep a fuckin' eye on him! Jesus, ma! He could be anywhere by now. Last time he wandered off, he got himself gutted. Goddammit!
Cissy: And he fuckin' healed, didn't he? What's the big fuckin' deal? Ming of Mars can take care of himself.
Butchie: No, he can't, ma. He needs someone to keep a fuckin' eye on him, keep him from gettin' into trouble and from raisin' suspicions.
Cissy: I'm sure he's just fucking fine. That little twat was on her way when we left him.
Mitch: She's right, Butchie.
Butchie: He better fuckin' be okay. (grabs a dirty towel and walks to the door) I've gotta go.
Cissy: Where the hell are you going?
Butchie: Outside, to fuckin' clean-up Shaunie's goddam sick outta the van, then I'm gonna fuckin' go look for John.
Mitch: Guess we should be going to. (to Cissy) C'mon.
Cissy: (pats Shaun's head lovingly) Fine. (She brushes past Mitch, pushes Butchie out of the way and exits)
Mitch: (Gives Butchie a knowing look) She's one of a kind.
Butchie: Thank god. (He grins)
Mitch: See you tomorrow, son. (offers him a hand)
Butchie: (takes his hand, shakes it, then bumps knuckles) Cool, pop.
(They walk outside. Cissy is talking to Dr. Smith and Ramon.)
Cissy: ...anyway, I just thought you should know what those slimy hospital fucks are up to.
Dr. Smith: Much appreciated, Mrs. Yost. Attorney Dickstein is working on my behalf to resolve things. I'm afraid they won't rest until my license is revoked, which Meyer assures me is unlikely. I believe he's meeting with the hospital attorney's tomorrow or the next day.
Cissy: Don't let that Frankenstein-lookin' fuck get the best of you, Doc. (She follows Mitch to her car. They get in and drive home.)
Ramon: How'd you tolerate her disagreeable tone growing up, Butchie?
Butchie: Didn't have a fuckin' choice, is how. (half-grins) She means well--too bad we're all too fuckin' busy runnin' in the other direction to fuckin' see it most the time. (He turns to the van) I'll catch you guys later.
Dr. Smith: Until then, Mr. Yost.
Ramon: Later, Butchie. Sorry, we didn't get started on your room today. Tomorrow for sure.
Butchie: No biggie, Ramon. (He walks off)
- Walkara
-------------------
(Freddy and Palaka pull into the Snug Harbor, park next to Butchie's van and get out.)
Palaka: (spotting Butchie in his van) Heya, Butchie! Whatcha doin'?
Butchie: Shaunie got drunk and puked all over the fuckin' place. I'm tryin' to clean it up 'fore the fuckin' smell sets in.
Palaka: We heard 'bout him getting drunk on the radio. (pause) The boss and I went shoppin' today. Picked-up some stuff to make our room into a home.
Freddy: (Walking around the car to where Palaka is talking to Butchie through the un-rolled driver's window.) I heard on the fuckin' radio that your boy got wasted on TV. I don't suppose you had anything to do with that, didya? (throws Butchie a stern look)
Butchie: (Gives Freddy a hurt look) Of course not, Freddy. Fuck! I ain't that big a-fuck-up. (returns to scrubbing the upholstery)
Freddy: I fuckin' hope to hell not, Butchie.
Butchie: Jesus! Why's everyone breakin' my fuckin' balls today?!
Freddy: Just tryin' to keep you in fuckin' line, Butchie--and don't fuckin' sport that attitude with me, dickhead. (Look at Palaka) Help me carry these bags in to the room, huh?
Palaka: Absotively, Boss. (to Butchie) We got a smoothie maker, a toaster, a real rotisserie, and a jumbo George Foreman grill--and a lady-friend for Freddy's teddy!
Freddy: Shut your damn mouth and get over here before I come over there and beat your ass!
Palaka: Roger that, boss. (He reaches into the open trunk and collects five or six bags, following Freddy to their room)
Palaka: Why'd you park so far away?
Freddy: I have my fuckin' reasons.
Palaka: Anythin' you'd be interested in sharin', boss?
Freddy: Maybe.
(The make several trips to their room before Palaka runs out, grabs one last bag, slams the truck, and goes back to he and Freddy's room, closing the door behind him.)
- Walkara
-------------------
(Driving, Cass suddenly becomes re-aware of herself.)
Cass: (looking at John) What?...What's going on, John? (She pulls the car off the side of the road) What the hell have we been doing?! My memory is blank again.
John: We don't remember our Father's words.
Cass: Sometimes we do...
John: (perplexed, he turns his head, listening) ...Not now.
Cass: You don't remember either?
John: I don't remember either.
Cass: It looks like we're driving away from the Surf camp again...what is it with that place, John?
John: I don't know Butchie instead. My father is shy about doing his business.
Cass: (sighs) I really hoped this would all start to make sense by now.
John: "Sense" doesn't ring a bell.
Cass: No shit, John. (Looks behind her, preparing to re-enter traffic) Where to now?
John: The Snug Harbor, Cass.
Cass: Here we go John. (Pulling back onto the street, she cuts off a monstrous amalgamation of car and trailer. Both she and the other driver slam on their breaks)
Erlemeyer: (leaning out his driver's side window) Watch where you're going, young lady!
Cass: (looks back) Sorry. (takes another look) Hey, John, isn't that guy the one that came back from Mexico with Mitch?
John: Fuckin' A-right it is, Cass. (He waves at Erlemeyer) Erlemeyer doesn't remember our Father's words.
(Erlemeyer waves)
Cass: Are you saying that he's been working with us, wherever the hell we were?
John: I'm saying that.
Cass: (driving away) I thought you didn't remember, John.
John: (smiles) I didn't remember.
Cass: And now you do?
John: (thinks) I remember some things.
Cass: That's no fair...
John: Nothing is fair, Cass.
- Walkara
-------------------
[Jerri has finished closing up the café for the night.]
Jerri: I am so fuckin' tired, but it was my best day of business ever. [She can tell that Dwayne is looking intently at his monitor and not paying attention to her.] Earth to Dwayne! I said that it was a great day for my business.
Dwayne: It was too crowded in here. I couldn't concentrate.
Jerri: [Sarcastically] Thank you so much for celebrating with me! Besides it didn't look like you were suffering since you had that young red-haired girl in the crop top sitting next to you for part of the evening.
Dwayne: She was just telling me how much she liked the website.
Jerri: [Sighs] Remind me to get you that pocket protector for Christmas. Are you sure that she didn't want to do this to you. [Gives him a wet willie.]
Dwayne: Cut that out!
Jerri: Turn off your computer. I will drive you home; you can leave your scooter inside.
[Dwayne shuts down the computer and stands up.]
Dwayne: Thanks, but I think I will go home on my scooter.
Jerri: You can be fuckin' green some other time. Let's go.
[They leave the café.]
- theshriek
-------------------
(Barry, Freddy, Dr. Smith and Moana sit on the driftwood log in the late afternoon sun, staring at the remains of the Bonfire)
Barry: I have been returned to my mothers arms.
Freddy: I knelt on the fuckin? shore.
Moana: I am the coyote.
Dr. Smith: I am the boy.
John & The Maker - click listen
- SpiritontheWater
-------------------
(John and the Car Salesman sit on the bluff above the four)
Car Salesman: The Four Horsemen... nothin' more than four lost boys. You could balance a bowl of soup on all four of their heads.
John: Four lost boys in Cass' camera!
Car Salesman: Yeah that's right country. And we could balance a pretty large tray of waffles on your head couldn't we?
John: Fuck you!... Fuck you.
Car Salesman: Aw hell country, they're infants! You think any one of those four are ready for the ponies I got ready to ride?
John: I don't think..
- SpiritontheWater
-------------------
(Cass car drives onto the Snug Harbor lot and pulls up to Butchie's Cabin. John gets out of the car)
Click, Minimize, and Listen
John: (he waves) Bye Cass.
Cass: Tomorrow, John. (She puts the car in reverse, flips around and drives off)
(Butchie tosses the rag he's scrubbing the van's interior with aside and walks over to John)
John: Hi Butchie.
Butchie: (throwing his arm around John's shoulders) Shit, I was gettin' worried, buddy. I was about to head out and fuckin' look for ya. Where the hell you been, bro?
John: With Cass. Doing my Father's shy-business.
Butchie: Shaunie's passed out on the bed. Why doncha take the mattress on the floor? I'll crash next door again.
John: The sun does not go down, Butchie.
Butchie: Whatever you say, buddy. (pats John on the back, sending him into Room F. Then he goes back to the van.) I'm gonna give it one last scrub, then fuck it! (He begins scrubbing)
(He works for a few minutes. All of the sudden, someone kicks him, firmly, in the ass, knocking him off balance, falling face-forward into the shampoo-soaked puke stain)
Butchie: What the fuck! (He stands up, ready to deck someone) I'm gonna fuckin' kick--
Kai: Hi.
Butchie: (elated to see her) Kai! (He throws his arms around her, gives her a big hug, kisses her head, then cheek, then lips) You have no fuckin' idea how glad I am to see you. (He kisses her again) Fuck, I missed you today.
Kai: I missed you too. (She kisses him back) I heard Shaunie got tanked and mouthed off to some newsbitch.
Butchie: Yeah...little fuckin' piss-pot! He's crashed-out inside. How was Black's?
Kai: Not too bad. Some pretty decent waves. Tami says 'hi'.
Butchie: Betcha got a fuckin' eye-full...
Kai: Not too much...there was a couple old dude's hangin' brain...What did I miss here?
Butchie: I don't know...not too much...
Kai: Besides Shaunie getting wasted, you mean?
Butchie: Oh! And I had a wicked fuckin' dream, with a whale--I could walk on the fuckin' water! Then I was the Silver Surfer or some shit.
Kai: (smiling) Here comes the Jesus complex...
Butchie: Smart ass. (He pulls her to him) You wanna go inside?
Kai: I don't know...it's a pretty fuckin' beautiful night...you wanna go for a walk? (She offers him her hand)
Butchie: (Taking her hand) Sure.
(Butchie and Kai walk down the sidewalk, into the night. Butchie's hand savors the feeling of her small but strong hand inside his. The night deepens into various shades of purple before settling on black grape. The city lights twinkle around them, mirroring the stars above. Butchie and Kai walk hand-in-hand in the silence, communicating in a language only they understand, beyond words.)
THE END.
-FADE TO BLACK-
- Walkara
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