Jo Nickel
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I Jo Nickel, accept the confidentiality agreement.
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Hi All! I’m Jo Nickel and I’m getting a late start with this class. First, I had a battery of medical tests then computer gremlins attacked both computers so had the techs at my house for 2 days. I’m up and running at this point so I am looking forward to this class. I live in the Sandhills area of Nebraska. I have been a cattle rancher, an executive human services administrator, and a Speech, drama and English teacher and professor. I have written 5 screenplays that have merit, however I have so many ideas sometimes I find it difficult to narrow the focus. I believe this class may help me with that as well as being a challenge for the ole cobwebs and fun at the same time.
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Lessons 26, 27, 28
LOGLINE: Marcus and Carley fight continuously until they kill a drunkard who is a wanted criminal with a price on his head.
ESSENCE: Accidents can bring unexpected rewards.
SCENE:
INT. CANYON CREEK BAR & Grill – DAY
Carley Harmon (40) thin, blonde, in leather knee boots and off-the-shoulder print empire waist dress, sits alone at the bar. She swallows her whiskey on the rocks and orders another.
BARTENDER: That’s your third, lady. If you drink any more I will insist on taking your car keys.
CARLEY: You have nothing to worry about, Sir. I’m jist getting started. Seven drinks and seven cigarettes and I’ll be ready to face the rest of the day. I release you from all responsibility.
A tall, handsome man (45) in an expensive business suit strides confidently from the men’s room and takes a seat at the bar, leaving two stools between himself and the lady. He looks her way.
MARCUS: I’m Marcus Kavanaugh.
Marcus extends his hand. Carley ignores it. Marcus is puzzled.
MARCUS (cont.) Not in a friendly mood today, huh. (to the bartender) Whiskey sour and one for the lady, whatever she’s drinking.
CARLEY: I pay for my own, thank you. I don’t take anything from losers that think they are God’s gift to womankind.
MARCUS: You don’t know me.
CARLEY: I know you, alright.
Carley turns to face him. She looks him up and down. He shifts as his comfort level diminishes.
CARLEY (cont.) You hate your job in the city that pays you under $100,000 a year, barely enough to make ends meet, so your stay-at-home wife had to take on a menial job which she resents. Your two ugly children are brats since there’s no one home to teach or discipline them. They resent you not being home when you go to places like this one, remove your wedding ring and pretend you’re single and twenty years old again. You hustle women with no taste or upbringing, you have a one night stand, fly home on the company dollar and swear upon the Bible to your wife you haven’t been unfaithful to your wedding vows. She knows different, but she is stuck with your lying ass…
MARCUS: Fuck you.
CARLEY: Ah,ha! The loser’s reliable shocker word to impress women with your manliness and lack of vocabulary neither of which will magically get you ahead in life.
Marcus downs his drink and starts to leave.
MARCUS: Who the fuck do you think you are?
CARLEY : Make no mistake, Sir. I know exactly who I am. I destroy losers like you.
Marcus leaves, angry.
Carley puts out her cigarette and collects her shrug and purse to leave.
CARLEY (to the bartender) Well, that was easy. Have a good day!
A WEEK LATER…
INT/EXT. CANYON CREEK BAR & GRILL – NIGHT
A country/western band plays. A crowded dance floor. Cowboys line up with their backs to the bar, drinking and looking for just the right good looking gal to ask to dance. Carley elbowsher way through the cowboys to the bar. One cowboy offers her his stool. She declines and stands watching until her drink comes. She downs it and orders another. She sees her mark, marches and elbows her way onto the dance floor. Carley taps the shoulder of the woman who is dancing with her father’s ranch hand.
CARLEY: Pardon me, I’m cuttin’ in. Scram, bitch.
The gal (20’s) dressed in Wranglers, Ariats, a tight men’s under shirt, laughs each time her dance partner twirls her then wraps his arms around her in perfect time with the music.
ASHLEY: Ty is my boyfriend and I’m going home with him.
CARLEY: Like hell you are. He lives in a bunkhouse.
ASHLEY: Get lost. You’re drunk.
CARLEY: Lady, I’m just getting’ started.
Carley doubles her fist and hits Ashley square in the jaw. She falls to the floor, unbelieving. She gets up only to take another of Carley’s blows to her face. This time she gets up and smacks Carley back.
CARLEY: Is that all you’ve got?
The cowboys laugh, jeer, cheer and place bets. Carley hist Ashley again. She falls backward against a cowboy who pushes her back Carley’s way. Ashley stumbles into a cowboy who shoves her into another cowboy, antagonizing him. The two cowboys throw punches at one another. Then the whole establishment bursts into a bar fight.
The big, black bouncer takes both Carley and Ashley by the arm and drags them outdoors, screaming insults at one another. The local police arrive with sirens and flashing lights. An officer approaches as people flee out the door wiping bloody noses and lips to avoid arrest.
OFFICER: These two the culprits?
BOUNCER: Yes Sir. This one (gesturing toward Carley) started it. She’s a tiger, that one is.
OFFICER: (to Carley) Turn around.
He cuffs her.
OFFICER: If you can’t afford a lawyer, one will be appointed for you…
CARLEY: Ya, ya, ya. Let’s get this shit over with, Sir.
INT./EXT. VALLEY COUNTY JAIL – DAY
Carley sits on a bench in a cell occupied by one other gal. She’s bruised, cut, battered. She moans as she sits up.
CARLEY: I’m Carley.
GIRL: I’m Jessica. A man do that to ya?
CARLEY: Nope. Bar fight. He do that to you? Looks like it hurts.
JESSICA: Ya. He was so sorry…again. I cut him in self-defense. I’m here and he’s out flirtin’ with other women. What you charged with?
CARLEY: Aggravated assault. I beat the shit out of her. Pardon my French.
An officer unlocks the cage.
OFFICER: Miss Harmon, you’re being released.
CARLEY: I made bail? About time my attorney got around to it.
OFFICER: It wasn’t your attorney, Ma’am.
CARLEY: Who then?
OFFICER: Mr. Anonymous.
Carley steps outside the jail and looks around for a familiar vehicle. A shiny black SUV pulls p.
The passenger window rolls down.
MARCUS: Need a ride?
CARLEY: Thank you.
Carley climbs in, closes the door. She looks at the driver. Doesn’t recognize him.
CARLEY (cont.) Got a cigarette?
Marcus gives her a cigarette from a pack in the console. He lights it for her. Then he hands her his whiskey flask. She takes a swig, takes a draw from her cigarette. Lays her head back, closes her eyes.
CARLEY (cont.) Y-o-u! I ain’t ridin’ with you!
She gets out of the car.
MARCUS: This is ridiculous. Get back in the car. Nobody hitches a ride in this area. It’s too dangerous.
CARLEY: And you could be a mass murderer for all I know. You just sit out in the parking lot to pick up needy female prisoners? Talk about desperate! Or crazy. Or both.
Carley takes off on a fast walk. Marcus drives next to her, honking traffic passing him by.
MARCUS: Come on, Carley. You’re making me conspicuous. I’m paranoid that one of these vicious drivers is going to smash into my car. It’s new.
CARLEY: I thought I smelt something odd.
MARCUS: I promise I won’t accost you in daylight. We can go get a drink and continue this fight there. Look at you. You look like hell. Your hair is matted, you have dried blood all over your bruised face, your dress is torn. Get in before you are picked up for homelessness or vagary.
CARLEY: You so much as touch me and I’ll scream. I’ll sue you, then kidnap and torture your entire family.
Marcus takes her threats to mean she needs him.
MARCUS: Deal. I took the liberty of buying you a new dress. That one is ready for the burn pile.
INT.CANYON CREEK BAR & GRILL – DAY
Carley emerges from the ladies room with wet hair, clean face, no makeup. She’s wearing the new dress Marcus bought for her with the store tags dangling. There is a whiskey on the rocks waiting at her place at the bar. She sits and downs half of it. Marcus selects tunes on the jukebox. He sits beside her at the bar.
MARCUS: Hungry?
CARLEY: Famished.
MARCUS: Bartender, fix our gal here a big juicy cheeseburger.
BARTENDER: Fries with that?
CARLEY: No thank you. But make sure the ground beef is from an Angus.
MARCUS: You have to be kidding me…
CARLEY: I am serious. My daddy raises Angus. I eat only Angus burgers.
The jukebox goes silent.
CARLEY: (cont.) I can’t eat without music.
MARCUS gives her a handful of coins.
MARCUS: Play what you want.
CARLEY: Thanks. Why are you being so nice? I smell a hidden motive here.
MARCUS: Maybe. Maybe not.
Carley goes to the jukebox. Marcus follows.
MARCUS (cont. )Let me take care of those store tags.
He leans down and jerks the tags. The drunk asleep in the back booth wakes up. He goes to the bar.
DRUNK: Lookie here. A burger jist waitin’fer me. This is a real classy place.
Marcus turns around. Runs toward the bar.
MARCUS: That’s not yours. Put it down!
Carley rushes to the bar.
CARLEY: You damned, stinkin’, rotten, son of s whore! Tryin’ to eat my burger are ya!
DRUNK: Sorry ma’am. I am so hungry and it was jist sittin’ there…
CARLEY: Well maybe you should wear it.
Carley grabs the burger and squishes it into his jowled face. She laughs then she slugs the drunk. He falls off the bar stool taking the burger, plate, ketchup and pickles with him to the floor. The drunk gets up and takes a swing at Carley. She dodges his fist.
MARCUS: Now look what you started, you stupid son of a bitch!
Marcus punches the drunk. He falls backward. Goes down hard. A pool of blood oozes from his head.
CARLEY: I think you killed him!
MARCUS: I didn’t punch him that hard.
Carley kneels beside the drunk and feels his pulse.
CARLEY: Poor man, whoever he is. He’s deader than a doornail. What do we do? You just killed a man. Have you done this before:
MARCUS: Nope. He’s my first…Crap! I gotta think of a way out of this one. Shit!
Marcus paces.
MARCUS: (cont.) We gotta clean this mess up before anyone comes in. Hey, Bartender!
BARTENDER: Christ! What the hell did you do? He ain’t breathin’. I’ll clean the mess, but you got get this dead carcass out of here.
CARLEY: Sorry. Didn’t mean to. He hit his head on the floor. He hit hard. Oh God.
Marcus tosses his SUV keys to the Bartender
MARCUS: Let me borrow your Dodge 4 x 4? I’ll have it back by tomorrow morning.
BARTENDER: You still owe for a burger. Damn it, whatever you do you’d better be doin’ it cause people will be flockin’ in here pretty soon. I gotta tarp in the back room.
Marcus throws a $10 bill on the bar. He and the bartender roll the dead drunk in the tarp.
EXT./INT. CANYON CREEK BAR & GRILL – BACK DOOR – DAY
Marcus and the bartender load the tarp wrapped body in the box of the Dodge. They place empty pallets on top.
BARTENDER: Better not try to move the truck till dark.
MARCUS: That’s what I was thinkin”.
BARTENDER: Got a place to get rid of him?
MARCUS: Yea. I know of a place. Never thought I’d need it.
CARLEY: (to Marcus) May I borrow your phone?
Marcus hands his phone to Carley. She steps out the front door for privacy.
Marcus sits at the bar, his head resting in his hands. He is morose.
Carley returns Marcus’s phone. His face questions hers.
CARLEY: I will need to see my psychiatrist tomorrow.
MARCUS: Me too.
EXT. NIOBRARA RIVER CANYON – NIGHT
The black Dodge pickup pulls off the rural county road. It drives a two-track road and parks parallel to the canyon bank. Marcus and Carley lower the tailgate. Together they pull out the tightly wrapped body. They drag it to the bank’s edge. Marcus gives it a shove and it disappears.
INT. DODGE PICKUP – NIGHT
Marcus under the wheel. Carley in the front passenger seat. She stares out her window.
CARLEY: Where are we?
MARCUS: It might be better if you don’t know.
CARLEY: True.
Several BEATS
MARCUS: May I ask the name of your psychiatrist?
CARLEY: You may not. That’s personal.
MARCUS: Just when we were getting along so swell.
CARLEY: You’re the one that ruined a perfectly good silence!
MARCUS: I’m sorry, Your Royal Highness!
Several BEATS
MARCUS (cont.) I see Dr. Jack Dodge in Broken Arrow.
CARLEY: So do I. So there. What’s the big “F” ing deal? He sees lots of people.
Several BEATS
CARLEY: You got a diagnosis?
MARCUS: Yes.
CARLEY: Well? Out with it.
MARCUS: You first.
CARLEY: Schizophrenia. Paranoid type.
MARCUS: You’r kidding, right? It can’t be.
CARLEY: If I say it, it is so. Ass hole.
Carley hits him. The vehicle swerves all over the road. Marcus regains control.
MARCUS: Damn it, woman. You could have killed us.
Marcus stops the truck.
CARLEY: And who in this world would care?
MARCUS: I would. And so would you. I’m schizophrenic also. Chronic undifferentiated type.
CARLEY: That explains a lot.
MARCUS: Yes. We’re both nuts.
Sirens and flashing lights flood the back window.
CARLEY: Shit, it’s the cops. Think they are real?
MARCUS: Funny.
Marcus steps on the accelerator. The speedometer reads 85. Carley looks out the back window. The police car disappeared in the country dust.
CARLEY: We’ve lost them.
MARCUS: Not for long.
EXT./INT. CANYON CREEK BAR & GRILL, BACK DOOR – NIGHT
Marcus pulls the Dodge up to the back door. Parks it in its usual parking place. He and Carley enter the back door. They wait for the bartender. Carley takes note of the filth.
CARLEY: Maybe it was a good thing I didn’t eat my Angus burger.
The bartender rushes in. He and Marcus exchange keys.
BARTENDER: Law enforcement is looking for you.
CARLEY: Ya. We noticed.
MARCUS: Any idea what they want?
BARTENDER: Nope.
MARCUS: Well, we might as well wait for them at a booth. It will be worse if we try to outrun them.
INT. CANYON CREEK BAR & GRILL, BOOTH – NIGHT
Western MUSIC plays loud from the jukebox. People dancing, drinking, eating. We see two FBI agents talking to Marcus and Carley. Marcus draws them a map on a bar napkin. The cops shake hands with Marcus and Carley and leave.
LATER…
Carley is asleep, curled up on the booth seat covered with Marcus’s suit coat. Seated across from her Marcus plays solitaire with a well-worn deck of house cards. Two agents in FBI attire enter and go up to the bar. They speak briefly to the bartender then stand beside Marcus at the booth. Marcus tenderly wakes Carley. She sits up but is still half-asleep. He slides in next to her, the agents take the seat across from them.
AGENT #1: We retrieved the body.
AGENT#2. It’s him alright.
MARCUS: It’s who?
AGENT#2: Gunther Hammond. He’s been on our most wanted list for three years.
CARLEY: What did the low life do?
AGENT#1: Serial killer. He likes young boys.
MARCUS: Jesus! We had no idea…
AGENT#1: How did you manage to kill him?
CARLEY: That’s a long story, Sir.
AGENT#2: Well, you saved us a lot of expense and manpower to bring him in.
AGENT#1: The Feds in Washington are beholden to you. You will be receiving a letter of commendation.
AGENT#2: There is a crime stoppers reward on Hammond, dead or alive. You will be receiving a check for $50,000.
The agents shake hands with Marcus and Carley before leaving.
BEAT
Marcus and Carley are all smiles.
MARCUS: Unbelievable! We were quite a team. Maybe we should set up our own PI business.
CARLEY: I have a better idea.
Carley initiates a long, passionate kiss.
MARCUS: What say you, let’s get out of this place.
EXT. CANYON CREEK BAR & GRILL – DAWN
Arm in arm Marcus and Carley step out the front door. A gunshot, then another, whiz past them, ricochet off the building over their heads. They duck.
CARLEY: Were those meant for us?
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Lessons 23, 24, 25
Logline: Brandy creates a rumor that leads her friend and her brother to follow her on a wild goose chase for hidden money that does not exist.
Essence: Brandy sacrifices her brother, Phillip, for a lie.
INT. PARLOR OF YELLOW HOTEL, SWEETWATER, WYOMING – DAY
The wedding of Garnet Osborn to James O’Connor in progress…
VIOLIN music saturates the parlor. It continues to end of Montage.
The room is gaudily decorated with red Persian rug, fringed lamps and cheap prints of naked women.
Bouquets of wild flowers sit of each of 4 parlor tables. The Violinist is Brandy (30ish) freckled, long, curly red hair adorned by a halo of wild flowers. She is dressed in her best green satin dress and slippers.
Standing at the back of the room is the Hotel’s negro bodyguard, Toby. Seated guests are the ten working girls. They smile politely dressed in their fanciest dresses and hats. They sit a little taller this day of rest and celebration. Their friend, Garnet, is the bride of Mr. James O’Connor, a rancher. Each watches the proceedings with silent wishes that it was her turn to take the nuptial vows to escape her monotonous plight.
Brandy finishes playing and places her instrument back in its blue lined case. She takes her place as a witness for the bride. The bride is corseted up in gaudy white lace and red ribbons. Her headpiece is a halo of wildflowers.
The nervous groom wears his only suit and bow tie. His father’s gold watch that no longer works, peeks from his vest pocket.
Toby leaves his observation post at the back to stand witness for his friend, the groom.
Phillip (30ish) the minister, dark haired, chiseled features, stands tall, serious and dignified in his Sunday suit behind a makeshift altar that holds his open Bible.
END OF O.S. VIOLIN
END OF MONTAGE
PHILLIP reads:…”and now these three remain, faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.” By the powers invested upon me by the State of Wyoming, I now pronounce…
James goes in prematurely for the long forbidden first kiss…
PHILLIP (cont.)…you husband and wife.
Giggles among the girls. They rush o Garnet. Shower her with well wishes, kisses on the cheek. They lead her to a parlor table covered with small packages wrapped in mismatched scraps of cloth, held together by white store string. They resemble an art project of an insane child.
Garnet opens the homemade gifts of sachets, cologne and spices. She thanks the girls.
The impatient O’Connor scoops up his bride and carries her through the front door. The girls scurry to wave to Garnet as the buggy disappears.
The girls disperse up the stairs. Phillip and Brandy look at one another with half-smiles.
BRANDY: Step one accomplished.
PHILLIP: Tomorrow then?
BRANDY: Yes. Tomorrow.
Brandy takes her violin and goes upstairs.
INT. METHODIST CHURCH – DAY
Tiny back room in the church. Meager furnishings. Bed, cot, armoire. Beside table with kerosene lamp. Phillip sits behind a small roll-top desk. Bible open. He writes with a quill dipped in ink.
KNOCK at the door.
PHILLIP: Yes, come in.
BRANDY: You ready?
PHILLIP: My horse is saddled. I can’t afford to rent a buggy so we’ll have to ride double.
BRANDY: Like when we were kids.
PHILLIP: Except this time I’m in the saddle. You’ll ride behind the cantle.
BRANDY: A fine big brother you are!
PHILLIP: Yep.
They leave out the back door.
INT.O’CONNOR HOME, RURAL SWEETWATER – DAY
Garnet, Brandy and Phillip sit at kitchen table. Drinking coffee.
GARNET: Yes, I’ve met the kid.
BRANDY: And…
GARNET: He’s bullheaded. Doesn’t like having people around. Runs the place like he knows what he’s doing.
PHILLIP: Kate was find of him.
BRANDY: Like a stray puppy.
GARNET: Pretty much.
BRANDY: Where would Kate have hidden her money?
GARNET: She was a workhorse and she made good money…her whole life. Never seemed to spend any.
PHILLIP: Does the kid know about the money?
GARNET: Apparently not.
BRANDY: Could Kate’s place become a House for say 15 to 20 girls?
GARNET: Ideal building. Ideal location.
PHILLIP: I thought you wanted out of the profession.
BRANDY: It’s the only thing I know. Mother started me when I was 14. Hell, it beats havin’ 10 kids and a drunken husband that beats the shit out of you jist for fun. And he don’t even haf to pay for it.
PHILLIP: Brandy, my dearest sister. It is a sin. According to God’s law a woman is to submit to her husband, not to loads of men.
GARNET: Reverend Phillip what would you do with your share of the money if we find it?
PHILLIP: I’m leaving this cursed place. I’m going back east where congregations have plenty of money to tithe.
BRANDY: And leave me here all alone? After all I did for you? You promised, remember.
PHILLIP: I am really sad about that. You could come with me. We deserve better than what life has handed us in this place.
BRANDY: You outa know. You got out of this hell hole when you went to study the ministry. You got out of here on my money.
PHILLIP: I didn’t know where that money came from. Had I known, I would not have accepted it.
GARNET: Stealing is against the Commandments. How do you justify what we are about to do?
PHILLIP: Simple. We do good deeds with it.
GARNET: Once rumors get started there might be others who get the same idea. It would be best to go at night. It’s a full moon tonight.
BRANDY: Then we go tonight.
EXT./INT. KATE’S INN – NIGHT
Reverend Phillip, Brandy and James O’Connor sneak around the grounds by moonlight. When they enter the interior . Light kerosene barn lanterns. Garnet stays with the buggy and horse.
Unbeknown to them, Charles watched their every movement from his hiding place, the outhouse. He peeked out through the half-moon on the door. He is frightened.
Charles bridles his horse and rides bareback into Sweetwater. He pounds the door of the Sheriff’s house.
EXT/INT. SHERIFF’S HOUSE – NIGHT
A light comes on inside the house. The Sheriff (40is), weathered , whiskered face with scared arms and torso from bullets, walks with a slight limp, opens the door. Charles rushes in, rambling. He is shaken.
SHERIFF: Charles, what on earth?
Charles hyperventilates. His knees buckle. The Sheriff catches him and sits him in a kitchen chair.
CHARLES: People. At my place. The Inn.
The Sheriff surveys his body for tell-tale wounds.
SHERIFF: Are you hurt?
CHARLES: No they didn’t see me. I hid in the privy.
SHERIFF: How many people and what did they do?
CHARLES: I think three or four. Not sure. They searched the barnyard, the cattle pens and went inside with lights. Like they were lookin’ for somethin’.
SHERIFF: Son of a bitch! I was afraid somthin’ like this was gonna happen.
The Sheriff opens the bedroom door and speaks softly to his wife.
SHERIFF (cont.) Ethel, I gotta go give some bastards a new ass hole.
ETHEL: (from bedroom) It’s after midnight.
SHERIFF: Goin’ out to Kate’s Inn. This could be a helluva shit show. If I’m not back by daylight, you’ll know where to find me, dead or alive. Let’s go, Kid.
EXT. KATE’S INN – NIGHT
We see the shadow of two riders. They dismount at the corral fence and sneak up to the front of the inn.
SHERIFF: (whispers) You know how to shoot a pistol?
CHARLES: Yes Sir.
Sheriff hands him a Colt 44 caliber Scholdfield. The Sheriff loads his 44-40 lever action Winchester. The two crouch into the shadows. Lights flicker inside. The Sheriff rushes in with Charles following.
SHERIFF (Yells) Hands up! I am the Sheriff of Washakie County. I am armed and ready to shoot your thievin’ asses!
PHILLIP: Don’t shoot! Please. We are coming out.
The lights inside go out. One by one O’Connor, Brandy and Phillip emerge from the Inn with their hands held high.
SHERIFF: Line up and face me, you low lifes.
They line up, backs against the outside wall.
PHILLIP: Pardon me, Sheriff, but we are not low lifes.
SHERIFF: For cripes sake. Reverend?
Phillip hangs his head, ashamed.
PHILLIP: Whatever you want, we will comply. I loathe violence.
O’CONNOR: Speak for yourself, Reverend. I ain’t goin’ down without a fight.
BRANDY: Whoever backs down from a gun fight is a coward.
GARNET: James, please don’t threaten the Sheriff.
SHERIFF: Was this your idea, Brandy?
PHILLIP: It was a unanimous decision amongst the four of us.
SHRIFF: Then I have no choice but to arrest you.
PHILLIP: Who better to teach this county Kate didn’t have any money stashed out here.
O’CONNOR: I’m not going to be arrested for doin’ this kid a favor. Unappreciative little shit!
O’Connor goes for the gun in his hip holster. The Sheriff shoots it out of his hand. His hand bleeds. Garnet tears a piece of cloth from her petticoat and winds it around his hand.
SHERIFF: It’s time we all go back to town so Charles can have some peace and quiet. I gotta cuff one of you. Which one will be my sacrificial lamb?
BRANDY: Phillip.
INT. WASHAKIE COUNTY JAIL – DAY
Phillip lays on the cot behind bars. The Sheriff unlocks the cell.
SHERIFF: Come on out to eat your breakfast. We need to talk.
Phillip comes out of his cell, sits on a wooden bench and eats his beans and bread.
PHILLIP: What do we need to talk about? What I did was wrong. I must do my penance.
SHERIFF: Why does your sister hate you?
PHILLIP: Brandy?
SHERIFF: You have other sisters who reside in whore houses?
PHILLIP: Brandy is my only sister. She has always bent me to her will. I owe her a lot. Our mother prostituted herself and Brandy to acquire money to send me to ministerial college. I came home with a disease born of carnal knowledge of the woman I hoped to marry. I came home and sought treatment from a Cheyenne medicine woman. Brandy has never forgiven me. I have been unable to forgive myself.
SHERIFF: Where did you learn about Kate hiding money?
PHILLIP: From Brandy, I suspect.
SHERIFF: I suspect one person started all the rumors circulating around town. I have asked around and everyone seems to have heard it from the same person.
PHILLIP: Brandy.
SHERIFF: Kate’s son will never have any peace unless this is exposed for the lie it is.
PHILLIP: I don’t see Brandy confessing.
SHERIFF: I don’t either unless we force the issue. She needs to be taught a lesson.
EXT. STREET OF SWEETWATER – DAY
The Sheriff comes out of the front door onto the street. Phillip follows. Soon a crowd follows.
PERSON #1: You all know where that money is. How about sharing?
PERSON #2: Keepin’ it all for yourselves, ain’t ya?
PERSON #3: A Preacher and a Sheriff. If that don’t beat all.
EXT. YELLOW HOTEL – DAY
The Sheriff and Phillip enter the backyard. The girls’ laundry on the clothes line. Sheets flap in the breeze. Some scantily dressed girls scream and run inside. Others, out of curiosity, stay. Unabashed, Brandy greets her visitors.
BRANDY: Well, if this isn’t a site for sore eyes! To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?
SHERIFF: How about a lie?
BRANDY: What lie?
SHERIFF: The lie that has this whole town wagging their tongues.
BRANDY: If you want a liar, there’s one standin’ beside you.
SHERIFF: He has already confessed.
BRANDY: So he found the money? All by himself? I don’t believe it.
Toby stands beside Brandy. He senses trouble is brewing.
TOBY: Nobody disrespects my girls!
Brandy laughs, hauntingly.
BRANDY: I dare you to draw on Toby.
A gunshot rings out. Then return fire from Toby. The crowd person who drew his pistol stands, unharmed.
Toby’s bullet misses the Sheriff. It hits Phillip.
Phillip falls to the ground with a gut shot. He moans.
The Sheriff, Brandy and onlookers surround Phillip.
Brandy kneels and cradles Phillip’s head in her lap.
PHILLIP: Lord, please forgive me. Forgive Brand…
Phillip dies. Brandy is in shock.
SHERIFF: (to Brandy) Now are you happy?
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Lesson22
Jo’s Interest Scene
What I learned: While the techniques of this lesson are valuable, they also take a bunch of time to write out and type.
Situation: After being screwed over, Person A returns to person B to request a truce…but in the next scene, we see they are actually setting up person B.
Logline: Grace, Madeline & Iris initiate a revenge plot against Nursing Home Administrator, Lemoyne, after he takes them to court for physical plant damages they caused.
Interest Techniques Ideas: I am not going to type all my worksheets as I am having to type each lesson twice before posting.
Scene:
INT/EXT. RAMSEY COUNTY COURTROOM, DEVIL’S LAKE, NORTH DAKOTA – DAY
Seated at the prosecution table is Lemoyne Larkin, Administrator at Sunset Nursing Home. The three defendants are Grace Hilliard (76), Madeline Hunter-Kennedy (70) and Iris Sinclair (65). Grace is picking lunch out of her teeth, Madeline is applying lipstick, and Iris is brushing her waist length hair.
BAILIFF: All rise. The honorable Judge Kane presiding. Case number 504 Larkin vs. Hilliard, Hunter-Kennedy and Sinclair.
Everyone stands. The robed judge takes the bench. He shuffles papers and takes off his reading glasses. Everyone sits.
JUDGE: I see you girls have been busy.
IRIS (under her breath, sarcastically) Yup, we bad girls. Shame, shame.
JUDGE: You’ve racked up charges of destruction of private property, elder abuse…
GRACE (stands) what do you mean, elder abuse? The three of us you sent there for community service are the elderly! And yes, we were abused by that idiot, Lemoyne!
The court onlookers burst out laughing. The judge pounds his gavel.
JUDGE: Order. Order in this courtroom. Any further disturbance and I jail all of you for contempt. This is the only warning you will receive. (Pause) Mrs. Hilliard, where is your counsel?
GRACE: Mr. Judge, Sir, I don’t need no man to counsel me.
The judge is about to lose his temper.
JUDGE (Cont.): Where is your attorney…your lawyer?
GRACE: I am my own lawyer. I represent Madeline and Iris as well.
JUDGE: Ladies, is that satisfactory? Are you in agreement?
Iris and Madeline nod their heads in the affirmative.
JUDGE: Well, then let’s get to it. It looks like you’ve racked up $50,000 in damages to Sunset Nursing Home, Inc. The court will allow you 6 weeks to pay restitution. You know the drill since you’ve been through this a few times. I am real tired of seeing your faces here, so you ladies and Lemoyne best find a way to get along.
GRACE: Thank you, Judge.
Lemoyne struts out of the courtroom with his head held high. He stops in the hallway and drinks at the water fountain.
Grace with Madeline and Iris following, enter the hallway.
GRACE: Lemoyne, wait up. I wish to speak with you.
Lemoyne bristles then decides to crow his victory, brushes down his new brown plaid J.C. Penny suit.
LEMOYNE: Well, well. Look who had to eat crow! I rather enjoyed the whole ordeal!
Grace begins to bristle, then controls herself. She tries out her sweetest voice and demeanor.
GRACE: Yes, well that was predictable, now wasn’t it?
LEMOYNE: I ‘spose so.
GRACE: Well, since we still have to work together for a few more weeks let’s let bygones be bygones. What say we declare a truce and start fresh.
Grace reluctantly offers her hand shake. Lemoyne hesitates then with a smart-ass grin he reaches out and they consummate a brief handshake. The look on their faces tell that agreeing on anything is objectionable to both parties.
Lemoyne opens the front glass doors and jumps down the courthouse steps, two at a time.
Grace returns to her friends.
MADELINE: you sure made a happy boy out of him!
IRIS: It was the right thing to do.
GRACE: Bingo!
The three ladies giggle as they descend the courthouse steps taking each step one at a time by planting both feet firmly on one step before taking the next.
INT. SUNSET NURSING HOME – DAY
Shift change is taking place. Day employees punch in time cards while the night shift simultaneously punches out. They acknowledge one another and some plan to meet at Canyon Creek Bar and Grille for breakfast. Chatter. Chaos. Then quiet.
Lemoyne enters the facility whistling and unlocks his office. The secretary rings his office. Lemoyne answers, lights a cigarette and crosses his feet on his vacant desktop. Lemoyne feels important and he is having a good day.
Grace appears from the janitor’s closet. Iris appears from the linen closet. Madeline appears from the nurse’s supply room. Their eyes meet. They nod to one another. The plan is on.
Madeline runs breathlessly into the Administrator’s office, interrupting Lemoyne’s phone call. He blubbers an objection, but Madeline being his superior in height, weight and strength, takes a hold of his tie, hangs up his phone, pulls him up out of his executive chair and leads him behind the nurse’s station, and into the medical supply room. She locks the door behind them.
MADELINE: Lemoyne, you have to witness this. We’ve had a break in! Look here.
She points to the empty spaces in the drug cabinet.
MADELINE: We are missing Morphine, Haldol, Percocet, Thorazine and or cannabis sativa ointment.
LEMOYNE: We must call the Sheriff immediately.
MADELINE: Oh honey, the Sheriff can’t handle this. It is over his head. Things like this go to the DEA. I think you and I can handle this by our little old selves, but first I have a little surprise for you. I made these chocolate fudge brownies for you. They are your favorite. I remembered! Just for my favorite Administrator. The way you took command in court, well it just turned me on. I just couldn’t ignore my feelings any longer.
Madeline shoves Lemoyne down in her cuddle chair, loosens his tie, unbuttons his shirt. She unbuttons the top two buttons of her blouse as she sits on the arm of the chair. He has a clear view of her cleavage.
LEMOYNE: I can’t fraternize with the employees. It’s against company policy.
MADELINE: Why, Lemoyne honey, I’m not an employee. I’m a volunteer. So anything we do here, stays here. We need to eat all these brownies and drink this nice chilled wine to celebrate your win in court yesterday.
Madeline hands Lemoyne a glass of wine and a napkin with a brownie on it.
LEMOYNE: That was something wasn’t it. I did do good, didn’t I?
Lemoyne takes a bite of his brownie.
MADELINE: You were so wild. My hero!
Madeline sits on the arm of the chair and rubs Lemoyne’s chest. Lemoyne stares at her chest.
LEMOYNE: A hero? Really?
MADELINE: A real tiger. Grrrrrr. Would you like one of my cigarettes?
LEMOYNE: Sure! What brand?
MADELINE: Oh, they are home rolled.
LATER…..
Lemoyne is high. Madeline has stripped him down to his tidie-whiteys. She busies herself cleaning up the brownie and wine evidence.
Grace has invited the Sunset CEO and Board of Directors for a facility tour. They pour into the facility talking shop.
Iris has routed the ambulatory and wheelchair residents into the lobby. The staff are scattered among the residents.
GRACE: (to CEO) Excuse me, I must notify our volunteer RN that we are ready. She has made some impressive upgrades to the nursing department.
Grace knocks on the R.N.’s door.
GRACE: We are ready for you.
MADELINE: Be there in a jiffy!
Madeline emerges from the medication room. She approaches the CEO and shakes his hand.
Lemoyne emerges from the medication room He sports a big grin and his words are slurred. He weaves from side to side until he is in full view of the dignitaries and the residents. He tries to quit giggling but cannot control himself. He is high and drunk.
The CEO and the seven Board of Directors take note of Lemoyne’s state and his lack of dress. They gasp. They are speechless.
LEMOYNE: Where did you go my honey?
He makes smooching sounds as he looks for Madeline who has disappeared among the residents and staff. Then he sees the guests.
BEAT
LEMOYNE (cont.): Oh, hi there. What brings guests to my facility on a Monday morning?
The staff and residents howl with laughter.
GRACE: Bingo!
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Lesson 20
Jo—Character Relationships
What I learned: This was a review as I have done this exercise in another class.
Script: “Old Money”
Character Traits:
Grace Hilliard: miserly, strong-willed, leader, adventurous
Madeline Hunter-Kennedy: spendthrift, seductive, protective, hypochondriacal
Iris Lynch: philanthropic, artistic, dreamer, gullible
Character Pairs
1a. Grace/Madeline
Traits: Grace=miserly, strong-willed, leader, adventurous
Madeline=spendthrift, seductive, protective, hypochondriacal
Rapport: Madeline is always up for a new adventure that Grace suggests, as it enables her access to new and exciting men.
Conflict: Money—Grace accumulates money; Madeline trades money for love and neat things so they will have heated disagreements on where to travel based up how much it costs and if there are men there. They will call one another out ie: Madeline will call Grace “money bags” and “too tight.” Grace will advise Madeline that Madeline is always broke because she spends too much of her money on junk she doesn’t need.
Contrast: Graces hides her Wealth. Madeline flaunts her possessions to give others the idea that she is wealthier than she really is.
Competition: They compete over men in order to make fools of them.
Subtext: Grace and Madeline secretly hate men and enjoy destroying their egos, although they use different methods to put them in their place.
Improvement: Changed Madeline’s trait of judgemental to hypochondriacal
1b. Grace/Iris
Traits: Grace=miserly, strong-willed, leader, adventurous
Iris=philanthropic, artistic, dreamer, naïve
Rapport: Grace is the leader and Iris is along for the ride
Conflict: Grace is miserly and Iris is philanthropic. Grace accumulates money whereby Iris gives her money away to any good cause she can find.
Contrast: Grace makes the decisions, Iris is along for the ride
Competition: Grace sees the world as it is, Iris sees the world as it ought to be
Subtext: Grace sees Iris as the daughter she never had and Iris replaces her dead mother by allowing Grace to dictate her life.
Improvement: Changed Iris’s trait of gullible to naïve
2a. Madeline/Iris
Traits: Madeline=spendthrift, seductive, protective, hypochondriacal
Iris=philanthropic, artistic, dreamer, naïve
Rapport: Iris accepts the protection that Madeline provides her. They agree that the purpose of money is to use it in a way that pleases oneself.
Conflict: Madeline relies on her RN training to heal. Iris read the stars and her Tarot cards to initiate healing.
Contrast: Madeline is experienced in male/female relationships whereas Iris has never had a relationship with a male.
Competition: Madeline tends to treat Iris like a child so Iris reminds Madeline that she (Iris) is 65 years old.
Subtext: Madeline protects Iris as she would a younger sister. Madeline secretly enjoys men falling all over themselves when she flirts with them. Iris doesn’t pay attention to men as she likes women but was overprotected by her mother so she never had romantic love from a female partner.
Improvement: Changed Madeline’s trait of being judgmental to being a hypochondriac.
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Lesson 21
Reveals That Pique Curiosity
Jo Reveals
What I learned: Putting the demand, the cover-up and reveal into the same scene turns a short scene into a story within itself.
Script: “Cattle Kate”
Logline: Garnet, Kate’s best childhood friend, comes to Sweetwater to find out who is guilty of hanging Kate and her common-law husband.
Questions That May Lead to a Reveal:
1. What is hidden from the reader? Kate’s adopted son is Garnet’s biological son.
2. What are characters hiding from one another? Garnet’s goal is to assume possession of Kate’s hotel/café/bar business outside of town and turn it into a brothel. Garnet’s suitor is courting her to acquire possession of Kate’s business for himself.
3. What is already known that could be hidden then revealed? Garnet is running from an abusive husband and the law. She is accused of killing him.
4. What could be the most dramatic thing that could be revealed in this scene? Garnet reveals to Kate’s son that she is his biological mother.
5. What could be under the surface that would create more drama for the characters: The Cattlemen’s Association is wanting to run Kate’s business as a private club for the membership of the Association. Garnet’s suitor is a member of the Cattlemen’s Association and is the one who raped Garnet on her first trip to Sweetwater twenty-five years ago.
6. Are there deeper meanings to the things my characters are saying and doing? Each one is after the same thing: Kate’s business property that she has left to her son, Charles, via her Will.
Scene Structure:
Demand: Kate’s adopted son wants to be left alone to run the business he acquired through Kate’s will upon her death.
Cover-up: Kate’s son is suspicious of Garnet.
Reveal: Garnet tells Kate’s son that she is his mother. Garnet became pregnant at age 16 by her rapist. He was a rancher who belonged to the Cattlemen’s Association. Garnet’s suitor has offered her marriage so the three of them could run the business as a family.
The Scene
INT. TRAILS INN, SWEETWATER, WYOMING – DAY
Garnet, dressed in a bustled emerald green sateen dress with lace overlay that rustles with every step and plums in her fashionable, matching hat, leisurely paces the Inn sixing up the items displayed for sale.
GARNET: Interesting place you have here.
CHARLES (17), Kate’s adopted son and the only survivor of the Cattlemen’s raid watchers her every move. He stares as if he’s never before seen a lady dressed so fancy. He shifts his feet, nervously. He stays behind the counter.
CHARLES: Lady, you find anything you need?
GARNET: Yes, I believe so.
Garnet turns to Charles.
GARNET: Oh, pardon my manners. I am Garnet.
Garnett reaches her hand out, but Charles is too intimidated to shake it. Garnett drops her and takes a few steps away from him. She senses the boy seems to be more comfortable with her at a distance.
GARNET: I am Kate’s best friend. We grew up together on the river. When I read in the paper that Kate met her death in such a horrible way, I just had to come here and search for her killers. They need to be brought to justice.
CHARLES: Good luck with that, Lady. Nobody crosses the Cattlemen’s Association and lives to tell about it.
GARNET: I have grown rather bored with my life at the Yellow Hotel. I was thinking of settling down here. Phillip O’Connor has proposed and I have an estranged son. After we conclude our investigation and bring Kate’s killers to justice, maybe the three of us could be a family.
CHARLES: Lady, I don’t pry into other people’s business so people leave me alone. That’s my life. I like it that way.
GARNET: Have you ever wondered who your biological mother was?
CHARLES: Nope.
GARNET: Your birth mother named you Louis.
CHARLES: My name is Charles.
GARNET: It appears she did a good job raising you.
CHARLES: Yep.
BEAT
Garnet: Your conception was the result of a rape. I was only 16.
BEAT
GARNET (Cont.) I could help you out with this place.
Charles becomes agitated. He paces behind the counter.
CHARLES: (loudly) I don’t need no help.
GARNET: (scolding) You don’t speak to your mother like that!
CHARLES: Lady, you need to buy something or leave.
GARNETT: Yes, I will leave. For now. But this isn’t over.
Garnet rustles out the door. We hear her click to her rented horse and buggy.
CHARLES (angrily, under is breath) Ain’t nobody goin’ to take this place from me. Not no fancy prostitute lady and no Cattlemen’s Association big shot like O’Connor.
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Lesson 19
Use Max Entertainment Part 2 techniques (inherently dramatic character traits, challenging situation and interest techniques)
SITUATION: One person promises the other they have kept a secret, but really didn’t.
LOGLINE: The top five winners of the Miss Norton Pageant end up disqualified for failure to adhere to the pageant rules.
ESSENCE: to win the game, follow the rules.
TRAIT I CHANGED: Maxine’s trait from paranoid to nosey.
SCENE:
INT: HIGH SCHOOL AUDITORIUM, NORTON, KS – NIGHT
The Miss Norton Scholarship Pageant in progress…
The spotlight is centered on the emcee, a forty something and balding, tall, dark, handsome, local radio jock, dressed in a rented tuxedo as he enters down stage right.
EMCEE: That was such a wonderful vocal rendition of “The Battle Hymn of the Republic” from our very own Miss Kansas 2000.
The audience applauds.
The singer exits right as the fifteen contestants enter and stand in a line.
EMCEE: Okay folks the tension is rising. The judges have completed their ballots for the five semi-finalists. One of these girls will become Miss Norton and will represent the Norton district at the Miss Kansas Pageant.
Last year’s Miss Congeniality hands the emcee the first envelope. He opens it and announces…
EMCEE: The fifth runner-up is Atwood’s Denise Mecheck.
Miss Mecheck walks downstage center where she receives a moderate bouquet of sunflowers (the State flower) from last year’s Miss Norton.
Disappointed, she walks off stage left. The audience gives her polite applause. Miss Congeniality hands the Emcee the second envelope. He opens it.
EMCEE: Now…the fourth runner-up is Oberlin’s Miss Daisy Davenport.
Miss Davenport gracefully walks downstage center where she receives a moderate bouquet of sunflowers. Smiling through her pain, she exits stage left. The audience gives her a round of applause.
EMCEE: Now…the third runner-up scholarship goes to…Cassie Olsson from Long Island.
Miss Olsson follows the same routine as did the above contestants. The audience with more enthusiasm applauds. The two girls left on stage can hardly contain their excitement.
EMCEE: One of these tow lovelies will become Miss Norton. The first runner-up will take Miss Norton’s place if for some reason Miss Norton is unable to complete her reign. The last envelope, please…
The two girls on stage anxiously hold one another’s hands and struggle to maintain their composure. Through their clenched plastic smiles they whisper to one another.
MAXINE: That crown is mine. My daddy donated to the Pageant fund. Money talks.
RENEE: Sex talks louder.
MAXINE: What? No! You can’t mean…not a judge?
RENEE: Sam Lewis is my true love. Don’t tell anyone or I will kill you.
MAXINE: Your secret is safe with me.
EMCEE: The first runner-up is Miss Maxine Hamilton from Almena.
Maxine and Renee scream and kiss one another on the cheek.
The audience goes berserk with screaming, yelling, whistling and clapping their hands. Maxine receives her flowers and exits the stage. All attention is focused on the new Miss Norton.
Last year’s queen removes her crown and places it on Renee’s head. The sash is fastened and a full bouquet of sunflowers is placed on her arm.
EMCEE: Miss Norton, Renee Randal , take your queen’s walk. The audience stands, giving her enthusiastic whistles, shouts and applause. Smiling and with happy tears, Renee walks the runway, waving to her audience with her free hand. She completes her queen’s walk and exits stage left with two reporters following.
EMCEE: That concludes our pageant and what a nail biter it was! The contestants and their chaperones are asked to meet in the green room for photographs. The audience may wait in the hallway to greet the contestants and get autographs.
The emcee is about to turn off the mic when…
A VOICE: Wait! There’s another announcement, please.
A short, round, silver haired woman gives the emcee a note.
EMCEE: Ladies and gentlemen, there seems to be a slight problem in the green room, Mr. Frost’s History classroom #4, that requires the Pageant Board’s presence—pronto!
Three men in Tuxedos and three women in evening gowns and tiaras leave their seats and dash out stage left to the green room.
EMCEE: That’s it for this year, folks. Remember, this would be a good time to get in your scholarship contributions. You can find the cards and box at the back of the auditorium.
The emcee turns off the mic. The stage lights go dark.
The sound of muffled shouts, a crash and a scream comes from backstage—inside the green room.
VOICE (OS) Call the police!
INT: GREEN ROOM – NIGHT
A chick fight. Yelling. Screams. Chaos.
The girls engage in throwing fist punches, kicking, hair pulling, biting, scratching, beating one another on the head with their high heeled shoes and tearing at one another’s pageant gowns.
Maxine retreats from the estrogenic mob and sits, sulking in a corner.
Renee, enjoying the fight, continues with punching anyone who comes near, including one of the girls’ chaperones.
Beau Harris, the Pageant Board President, 40ish, tall, charismatic, with a booming voice enters, removing his tie and loosening his collar.
Harris enters. Behind the door he finds a tearful Denise Mecheck holding up her torn purple gown.
HARRIS: What the hell is going on? Ladies…calm down. Let’s talk.
Opal Kennedy (50 something) a short, stout, red headed woman with huge eyes behind thick glasses, and a pageant board member bustles in. Opal emits an ear-piercing whistle.
The girls stop fighting and stand silent, surveying one another’s ruined gowns, hair styles while dabbing bloody lips.
Daisy Davenport collapses onto the floor, battered, bruised and bleeding. She sobs. Opal tends to Daisy then uses her cell phone to call for an ambulance.
OPAL: Gosh, I think her arm is broken. (to the girls) You girls ought to be ashamed of yourselves. This is not the way ladies conduct themselves. Shame on you!
When Opal turns her attention back to Daisy, Maxine silently mouths Opal’s words, mocking her. The girls hide their smiles.
Two City Police Officers enter in uniform. One officer seeks out Harris.
OFFICER #1: What’s going on here!
HARRIS: it seems our beauties got into a chick fight. They seem to have calmed down…finally. Just stand along the back wall. I think that will be all that’s needed.
OPAL: Who is your chaperone, dear?
DAISY: Clara Smith. I have her number on my cell…where it is.
OPAL (to Harris): Her chaperone needs to accompany her to the hospital and contact her parents.
One of the contestants retrieve the cell phone from under the teacher’s desk. While Opal talks on the phone, the ambulance crew arrives with a gurney. They load Daisy on it and the two police officers assist with the doors. The siren, loud at first, fades as it goes further away.
OPAL (to Harris): I’ll go round up the other board members. Where should I look?
MAXINE: (looking down her nose) The Silver Circle bar. That’s where the trashy people go.
OPAL: I’ll deal with your attitude later.
Opal scurries out the door. Maxine imitates Opal’s short legged walk. The girls giggle.
BEAT
Suddenly, two contestants burst out in laughter. They laugh so hard they collapse into chairs that previously served as shields. One by one the others see the humor in the situation and join in the laughter.
RENEE: Damn it. I gotta pee. Quit laughing. I can’t hold it.
RENEE exits on a run. The other girls laugh even harder.
POLICEMAN #2: What the hell…
HARRIS: I swear I’ll never understand women.
LATER…
The pageant Board sits on one side of a table and the top four scholarship winners sit on the opposite side facing the Board. The members are Opal, Fiona, Maggie, Harris, Kennedy, and Peterson. The chaperones are seated behind the girls.
HARRIS: As president of the Pageant committee I’ll start this meeting. I’m insisting that reasonable decorum be observed. A couple of chaperones have advised the board that one of our finalists has not adhered to our rules.
The girls exchange knowing glances. Two smirk.
HARRIS: I assure you this is no laughing matter. Becky is Renee’s chaperone. Please tell us the information that was told to you.
BECKY (stands) Unfortunately one of our girls has been having an affair with one of the judges.
Gasps come from the Board.
RENEE: You bitch! You told!
MAXINE: I didn’t mean to, honest. I told my chaperone to get it off my chest.
RENEE: Your padded chest.
MAXINE: Padding isn’t against the rules. You said so.
RENEE: I will kill you, bitch! Ho!
Renee lunges toward Maxine. Police Officer #1 catches her by the waist. Tenee flails her arms and legs and attempts to bite the police officer’s arm.
POLICE OFFICER: Settle down or I will have to cuff you.
HARRIS: You girls had knowledge of this and you didn’t say anything before the pageant?
Their heads look down.
FIONA: This means that Renee forfeits her crown to the first runner-up, Maxine.
RENEE: Over my dead body! Don’t ya all know Maxine is sleeping around. She’s a lesbian.
MAXINE: That’s not against the rules. You told me. And I told you about my rape. I was only twelve. I am still healing from that so I stay away from men. (softly) Your left eyelash is crooked.
Renee digs through her handbag, takes out her compact and repairs the eyelash and applies lip gloss.
PETERSON: I say neither one of these girls represent the morality we promote through the pageant.
HARRIS: Are you saying we give the crown to the third runner-up? Can we do that?
PETERSON: I have five daughter. I know that is the only way to squash the feud for good.
HARRIS: Are there any hidden facts about Miss Olsson we need to know about?
MAXINE: Cassie got MIP’ed last week at the Pavilion dance hall.
CASSIE: How do you know? You were there?
RENEE: (cackles) That disqualifies her.
CASSIE: At least I didn’t do time at the crowbar hotel like shy Miss Denise. She got a DUI.
MAXINE: She’s a Bohunk. They’re all drunks.
HARRIS: This is getting worse by the minute!
MAGGIE: That leaves Daisy who is in the hospital.
HARRIS: Anything we should know about Daisy?
MAXINE: I heard she was crowned Miss Kansas Swine Queen before she moved here. Oink! Oink!
The girls laugh. Opal scowls.
OPAL: How long ago was that? Does anyone know?
The girls remain silent.
OPAL: I’ll text my husband. He golfs with all the School Superintendents.
KENNEDY: What about the Miss Congeniality scholarship?
HARRIS: I don’t see any reason to deny Maxine that award since it was voted on by the girls and not the judges. She won’t be going to Miss Kansas. It’s our own local award.
PETERSON: I concur. Any objections?
The Board members shake their heads indicating there were none.
MAXINE: Thank you.
OPAL: The Davenports moved here three years ago. My husband thought Daisy was barely 18 when she won that pageant. There were only three other contestants.
MAXINE: Oink! Oink!
RENEE (cackles) She’s disqualified!
HARRIS: Shit! This is one hell of a situation. What the hell do we do now?
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Lessons 14, 15, 16
Max Entertainment Part 2 Skills (dramatic character traits, challenging situations, interest techniques)
SITUATION: Two people who don’t trust each other are teamed up to do a job.
SCENE ARC: From: being forced together
To: making a total mess out of the situation
SCENE LOGLINE: Nancy and Squire are assigned to build and erect the set for the upcoming community play, “Arsenic and Old Lace.”
SCENE ESSENCE: What is forced together in distrust will end in disaster.
SCENE:
INT: MUNICIPAL AUDITORIUM STAGE, CHESTER, NE – DAY
Rehearsals for the community play, “Arsenic and Old Lace,” are underway, directed by Mr. Ike Sperling (75), a retired high school history teacher and debate coach.
He gives notes to the cast who are sitting on the lip of the stage.
SPERLING: Jonathan, remember when you enter through the stage right window, that you also have to crawl over the window box.
Steve (45) a homely, dark complexioned, bearded man, 6’6”, who is playing the role of Jonathan Brewster, a convict, retorts.
STEVE: It would be nice if there was an actual window and window box to crawl over. Hook
When are we going to have an actual set rather than chalk lines on the floor?
Nancy Turner (32) a shapely blonde, wearing a red tube top, blue jean short-shorts and flip-flops, enters in a huff. Hands on her hips, she rudely looks the cast over after she presents a paper to Mr. Sperling. Confrontational
Mr. Sperling scans the paper. A slight smirk crosses his face.
SPERLING: Well Steve, looks like your wish has come true. It appears that Miss Turner here owes our fine community significant hours of Judge ordered service.
Moans, groans and jeers from the cast.
NANCY: Oh, shut up! Uncomfortable Moment
Terry Meyer places his hands on his hips and sways while strutting across stage, imitating a sexually provacitive female.
MEYER: So little Miss “I get away with everything because my daddy’s a cop” fem fatale finally got caught with the wacky weed! Woo! Woo!
NANCY: High School was a long time ago. Wound
MEYER: I play the role of Dr. Spinalzo! Ain’t that a hoot!
NANCY: (sarcastically) Wow, I’m so impressed.
MR. SPERLING: Miss Turner, I’m so glad you came in today. My set crew seems to have crapped out on me, so I’m assigning you to help MR. Knox erect the set since he also owes the county significant community service. He’s down in the basement, repairing and painting flats, as we speak.
NANCY: Not Squire Knox.
MR. SPERLING: Problem?
NANCY: Well…like…you know…
Delia Dinklage (35) a dowdy, plain Jane, with mousy brown hair, emits a high-pitched giggle.
DINKLAGE: Don’t you remember? Nancy was engaged to the handsome, wealthy, misogynistic Squire Knox and she’d never have to work a day in her life…until…
Barb Hershey (35) A matronly Middle School English teacher, who is lightly overweight, finishes Delia’s sentence…
HERSHEY: …until she caught “Mr. Right” (draws air quotes) in the athletic equipment closet with the student teacher, Miss Pistalka! Remember? Uncomfortable Moment
The actors shake their heads in agreement and snicker, relishing Nancy’s discomfort.
NANCY: (to Sperling) I refuse to work with that slob! I hate his guts! Needs, Stubborn
Mr. Sperling ignores Nancy’s outburst.
MR. SPERLING: You will have the weekend to get the set built and erected. Dress rehearsal is Monday. Here’s the set diagram. (unfolds the paper and points) Interior set with window and window box down stage right, fireplace upstage center and stairs to the basement, down left.
Mr. SPERLING: (Cont.) Teddy, learn how to get noise out of that old trumpet by Monday. Cast and crew, have a good weekend and remember no book, no prompt, Monday at 7 p.m. Bring costumes and personal makeup cases.
The actors and crew hurriedly leave the auditorium. Car doors slam outside and vehicle engines squeal tires on the loose gravel parking lot as they leave.
Mr. Sperling walks out, leaving Nancy to study the set drawings. Goal
SEVERAL BEATS
A LOUD CLICK
The stage goes black. The house lights flicker and go black. Nancy screams.
The spotlight located in the balcony, snaps on. A round ball of blue light spills onto center stage and moves up to light the backdrop.
A SOFT NASAL VOICE: E.T. phone h-o-m-e.
NANCY: You damned idiot, Squire Knox. Knock it off. You are too old for this bullshit! Confrontational
The spot light moves to encase Nancy’s form. Blinded by the bright light, Nancy moves to her right. The spotlight follows. She jumps onto the stage. The spot follows. Nancy disappears behind a teaser. Stubborn
MULTIPLE CLICKS. One by one the overhead ellipsoidals and fernels illuminate the main acting areas.
CLICK
The stage lights go black. Nancy is in total darkness again.
NANCY: Your damned games aren’t funny anymore
SQUIRE: Everybody but you relishes my sense of humor, not to mention my delectable, irresistible charm. Charm, Happy-go-lucky
BEAT
NANCY: Did you bring your tools?
SQUIRE: I always carry my tools with me, sweetheart. Seductive
NANCY: I’m not referring to your junk!
SQUIRE: Yew! That hit below the belt.
NANCY: Good. How much of the set is ready to go up? Goal
SQUIRE: Most of it. Evasive
NANCY: I don’t believe you. Values, Distrust
SQUIRE: You know me too well. Actually, I enticed a few urchins to help out. Control Others
FOOTSTEPS are heard coming up the basement stairs. A group of high school students appear, chattering, giggling and carrying various set pieces.
A female student ascends the stairs to the balcony where Squire is seated.
STUDENT #1: Did we do good, Mr. Knox?
SQUIRE: Call me Squire. Come closer. Seductive
The girl approaches Squire. He grabs her and bends her backward and plants a prolonged, Hollywood Kiss. After he lets go of her, she runs back to her friends, embarrassed and shaking from mild trauma. Selfish? Seductive
STUDENT # 2 (male): Hey, Knox, just so you hold up your end of our bargain.
Nancy approaches one of the girls.
NANCY: What has Squire Knox promised you for building and painting the set for him?
STUDENT # 3 (female) We can’t tell.
NANCY: Beer?
The students giggle nervously.
NANCY: Where is the party going to be? Barney’s bottom?
STUDENT #1 (female) How’d you know?
NANCY: Some things never change.
BEAT
NANCY: (Cont.) Squire Knox, how could you? Character Change
SQUIRE(still from the balcony) What? Selfish
NANCY: Corrupt these kids. Just because you and I are spending our summer doing community service doesn’t mean they should. They’re just kids. Caring
SQUIRE: They aren’t doing anything we didn’t do…
NANCY: …and look how we turned out. These kids deserve better.
SQUIRE: What do you suggest? Gonna invite ‘em all to your house? Dilemma
NANCY: I’ll think on it.
Nancy pulls the main curtain shut. Instructs the kids where to position each flat and how to brace them. Two of the tallest boys take charge with screwing the flats together. The girls tack curtains over the window. An old trunk suffices for a window seat. The fireplace is manhandled into place as are the stair steps. Nancy talks quietly so Squire can’t eavesdrop by turning on the sound system.
NANCY: Don’t you guys think Barney’s Bottom will be the first place the cops are going to look?
STUDENT #2: She has a point. Dilemma
STUDENT #3: So…what do we do? I can’t afford no MIP. My old man would kill me.
STUDENT #1: Mine too.
NANCY: Ever thought of Baker’s grove? It is close to my house and I will chaperone and drive you home. Prediction
The kids nod in agreement.
NANCY: (Cont.) A little mouse told me that only Squire Knox’s name appears on the program under Set Design and Construction. Is that true?
STUDENT # 1: Yep. I typed the programs. Mr. Knox told me not to add your name since you hadn’t done any work yet. Selfish
NANCY: Good. Here’s the plan. Anticipatory Dialogue, Scheming, Cliff hanger?
INT: MUNICIPAL AUDITORIUM – Night
Dress rehearsal. Nervous energy is running high. Back stage buzzes with activity. The actors are in full makeup and costume. Some are running lines. The crew is testing headsets and coordinating with the light and sound crews in the balcony. Hope/Fear
The house is dark and empty except for Mr. Sperling, the Mayor, three councilmen and a couple of donors.
The curtain opens. Suspense
The stage lights come up slowly.
The set has been repainted with neon purple and green stripes. Reveal
The sparse audience gasps. Surprise
MR. SPERLING: My God! What is this? Who did it? Mystery
BEAT
Mr. Sperling (to the Mayor) Squire Knox’s ass is grass!
Mayor: (laughing) It is rather colorful. Intrigue ?
Barb Hersey (as Abby Brewster) begins her first lines as Delia Dinklage (as Martha Brewster) fetches another biscuit for their guest, Terry Meyer (as Dr. Spinolzo) at the table, down center.
The flats begin to teeter.
BEAT
The entire set crashes to the floor in a heap of dust, torn muslin, and broken 2 x 4’s.
Abbey picks herself up out of the heap then notices that Martha’s head is bleeding and she’s unconscious. Abbey attempts to stay in character…
ABBEY: Help! Help Martha! Somebody call 9-1-1! Fear, Mystery, Creating a future, Cliff hanger
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Lesson 13
Jo’s Maximum Interest 2
What I Learned: Writing an interesting scene requires putting in all of the Interest Techniques possible although that often makes the word count and thus the page count increase. That said, it is likely better to have a longer scene, written well, than a bunch of shorter, marginal scenes.
Scene Logic: The three ladies (Grace, Madeline, Iris) after being arrested, pretend to be mentally ill hoping to be sent to the psychiatric hospital instead of the county jail.
Scene Essence: Grace, Madeline & Iris feign mental illness.
Interest Techniques for the Rewrite:
—hook
—dilemma
—prediction
—something unseen
—mystery
—create a future
—anticipatory dialogue
—cliff hanger
—uncomfortable moment
Scene Rewrite:
INT: RAMSEY COUNTY LAW ENFORCEMENT INTERROGATION ROOM – NIGHT
Grace, Madeline and Iris sit on the same side of the table, handcuffed.
IRIS: Are we being watched through that window? Hook
GRACE: Smile pretty, girls!
The women smile as if they were on a modeling shoot for a fashion magazine.
MADELINE: I should have combed my hair and put on lipstick before we were asked to grace this god-awful place with our presence.
IRIS: Policemen types prefer the natural look.
MADELINE: (accusingly) And…how do you know?
IRIS: My mother said so.
GRACE: Iris, your mother is dead.
IRIS: I know.
Madeline steps on her chair then on top of the table. Shows off her legs and jangles her hand cuffs.
MADELINE: I just love my new jewelry. It goes well with my peacock blue blouse, don’t you think?
The women giggle like junior high girls on a shopping spree inside Walmart.
IRIS: Silver goes with everything. My mmm…
GRACE: …mother said so. (pause) Silver looks really nice, Maddy, but frankly I’m more worried about the gold.
IRIS: What gold?
GRACE: The gold it is going to take to get us the hell out of here.
MADELINE: The bathrooms in places like this are always so gross…
GRACE: As is the food. I heard that the Red Rooster Café won the contract to deliver the food to the jail. That place is a bona-fide greasy spoon.
IRIS: I hate greasy food. My mother said …
GRACE: Oh God, here we go again…the wisdom of mother.
IRIS: My mother said the food at Prairie Hills was excellent.
MADELINE: How’d she know?
IRIS: Oh, she and her third husband were there for 5 years.
MADELINE: Sorry I asked. Are the bathrooms sanitary?
IRIS: Mother said they were.
There’s a light knock at the door. Madeline scurries down off the table and sits on her chair like a proper lady.
GRACE: Remember our pact!
Detective Pryor, 40 something, a rugged, handsome blonde with a well-toned body and a suntan enters with a file folder tucked under his arm. He sits in the only chair left on the opposite side of the table. He spreads out photographs in front of the ladies as deftly as a casino card shark. The detective displays an “I’m in charge here attitude. His shirttail hangs out of his jeans indicating he was summoned from home after his bedtime.
DETECTIVE PRYOR: I’m Detective Victor Pryor. This won’t take long. You have waived your right to consul…correct?
GRACE: I don’t need no man to counsel me…for pity sake.
IRIS: The truth always prevails. My mother says it is written in the stars.
The detective clears his throat, thrown off guard. He gathers his composure.
DETECTIVE: So…you gals had yourselves quite a crime spree.
The women exchange questioning glances.
GRACE: Oh, but Sir, we aren’t criminals.
DETECTIVE: The evidence indicates otherwise. You’ve been charged with theft, driving without a license, hit and run, fleeing to avoid arrest, DUI, possession of a controlled substance, willful destruction of property, making terroristic threats, threatening an officer with a loaded firearm and attempted vehicular homicide. Mystery—how it happened
MADELINE: Does this mean we will get our names in the paper?
DETECTIVE: Most likely.
IRIS: Oh goody! We’re famous. Maddy, we’re going to be celebrities. P-e-a-c-h-y!
DETECTIVE: Photos, eye witnesses and victim statements indicate you were the driver, Mrs. Hilliard.
The detective waits for a response while Grace stares at a spider climbing the wall. He pretends not to notice her odd behavior and places a photo in front of Grace. He deliberately thumps his forefinger waiting for a response. Iris picks up the photo of Grace driving the Schwans truck.
IRIS: Oh Grace, this is such a good photo. You have a regal profile. Don’t you think so, Madeline?
Madeline looks from the photo to Grace’s profile several times.
MADELINE: Yes. I see it now. I never noticed it before, but now that you mention it???
IRIS: (sweetly) Detective, how thoughtful of you to give us photos of our trip around Ramsey County. I’ll put these in my memory book.
Detective Pryor stares at Iris, unbelieving.
DETECTIVE: This is evidence. Not junk for your damned scrapbook!
The detective jerks the photographs out of Iris’s hand and shoves them into the folder.
He leans back in his chair, coldly staring at the women trying to size them up. He cracks his knuckles, then leans forward, placing his hands on the table, thumping his fingers.
MADELINE: (seductively) What strong hands you have. Uncomfortable moment
The detective slides his hands under the table. He rubs his legs then places his fingertips on the edge of the table. He thumps his fingers, his patience fading.
MADELINE: You should get yourself one of those stress balls.
DETECTIVE: (Yelling) I don’t need any stress balls!
The detective pounds his fist on the table. The women jerk, startled. BEAT
GRACE: Shame on you! A grown man, having the temper tantrum of a two year old. BEAT
The detective squirms, frustrated. He changes tactics. BEAT
DETECTIVE: I can’t figure your motive…unless…you’re operating with a terrorist group. You’ve recently traveled out of the country. Frequently, in fact.
IRIIS: Oh, we had a lovely time. We took cruises.
GRACE: We got in on the senior citizen discount package.
Madeline snickers, covers her mouth, then points to Iris. Grace snickers.
MADELINE: Iris.
DETECTIVE: Iris is the terrorist?
IRIS: (defensive) The Pink Panthers never hurt nobody!
DETECTIVE: You are in serious trouble, ladies. This will be easier if you cooperate. If you don’t, I can make it hell for you and you will go to jail for a very long time. Dilemma, prediction
MADDELINE: (defeated) Girls, we might as well tell the truth to the handsome detective.
GRACE: The voices.
DETECTIVE: Voices? Something unseen & major twist
IRIS: Beautiful, angelic voices.
GRACE: They said, “Ice cream. Ice cream.”
DETECTIVE: What the hell is the matter with you people?
The detective, about to blow, gathers up his folder. Stomps to the door. He stops.
The women flash their best, “I have no idea what you are talking about” expressions.
DETECTIVE: You’re fucking nuts. Totally, fucking nuts! Anticipatory dialogue & character changes radically
GRACE:; Bingo! create a future
The detective slams the door behind him. The women sit silent. a weak cliff hanger
BEAT
GRACE: (To Madeline) Your handsome detective swears like a sailor.
MADELINE: They all do.
GRACE: It sounds like hell.
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Lesson 12
Jo’s Challenging Situations
What I Learned: The more challenging the situation, the deeper the characterization becomes. The harsher the character’s hardships, the more the audience will identify with or feel at one with the character. Challenging situations, handled well by the writer, will draw the audience into the story.
Scene 1
Current Logline: Barrett Scott shoots at the protest crowd below his office window.
Essence: Barrett Scott is frightened for his life.
List of Possible Challenges:
—Barrett Scott reloads his shotgun, aims at the protest crowd below his office window and pulls the trigger to spray buckshot on them. (goal)
—Barrett Scott curses the protest crowd below. (need to be in control)
—Barrett Scott is shot at by the protest crowd below his window.(wound)
—Barrett Scott is wounded by a ricochet bullet below his office window. (wound)
—Mrs. Scott threatens to leave Barrett with the promise of leaking his myriad misdeeds. (values)
—The gunfire outside triggers a flash back of the abuse by his father that Scott endured as a youngster that made him feel helpless and useless. (wound, physical)
How I rewrote the Scene With the New Challenge:
I inserted Scott having a flashback from his childhood beating that made him feel helpless and useless. (wound)
He is beaten severely by his father because Scott lost his lunch pail to school bullies. His father wanted a strong son who would win his fights instead of a cowardly cripple with a club foot. Scott’s father, during this tirade, threatens to hang his only son from Whiting Bridge. The father holds the barrel of his shotgun against the young Scott’s head and threatens to end what the father determines is a worthless life. (physical) Scott lays on the ground in a fetal position, whimpering, wiping the blood from his mouth, fearing he might die during the next beating that was sure to come.
The adult Barrett Scott stays crouched on his office floor in the dark, trembling, long after the crowd has dissipated. (wound)
Scene 2
Current Logline: Barrett Scott is caught by vigilantes.
Essence: Barrett Scott dies a heroic death.
List of Possible Challenges:
—Vigilantes take Scott to an abandoned soddy, beat him, then hang him from Whiting Bridge. (physical)
—Vigilantes follow Mrs. Scott’s buggy to O’Neill, burst into her house and threaten violence unless she produces the money Barrett stole from the Treasury. (values)
—-Scott tells vigilantes he will show them where he hid the money and leads them on a wild goose chase giving Mrs. Scott, Fannie and Etta time to escape. (needs)
—Scott names Josh Paddock as a vigilante (which he is not) so the law will eliminate Mrs. Scott’s secret lover without involving him. (wound, values)
I Rewrote the Scene With the New Challenge:
The armed vigilantes on horseback stop the Scott homeward bound buggy. They shoot to kill the Scott team of prized grays. Due to Barrett’s pleading for the lives of his women folk, (values) the vigilantes put Fannie, Mrs. Scott, Etta and Fannies’s cat in another wagon. This wagon takes them within a mile of the Scott house. The women walk the rest of the way in knee deep snow. The second wagon takes the bound Barrett Scott to an abandoned soddy to interrogate (wound) and beat him to near death. (physical) Then they put his limp body into the wagon and drive to Whiting Bridge where he is hanged. They leave his body to the December elements.
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Lesson 11—Creative Mastery
Jo’s Full-Out Characters
What I’ve Learned: Opposing character traits automatically puts the characters into conflict with one another. This adds interest to the story.
Logline: Three women living in a posh retirement center highjack a Schwans truck that takes them from incarceration in the county jail, to the mental institution then to a nursing home where they uncover fraud and patient abuse.
BEFORE Character Profiles:
Character # 1: GRACE
Description: A spry 76 year old retired corporate executive who dresses for comfort but lives for adventure.
Core Traits: bossy, negative, political, problem solver
Main Subtext: Hides her wealth.
Character # 2: MADELINE
Description: A well preserved 70 year old retired Registered Nurse living in a posh retirement center in North Dakota, believes make-up and fashion are the main necessities of life.
Core Traits: spendthrift, seductive, protective, holds a grudge
Main Subtext: Madeline is a hypochondriac. She loves her things and flaunts them.
Character #3: IRIS
Description: A 65 year old throw back from the hippie era and is a trust fund kid who lives in a posh retirement center in North Dakota.
Core Traits: philanthropic, artistic, virginal, dreamer
Main Subtext: Iris is the eternal good girl.
AFTER Character Profiles:
Character #1: GRACE
Description: A spry, slightly overweight, 76 year old retired corporate oil executive living in a posh retirement center in North Dakota, dresses for comfort, but lives for adventure.
Core Traits: miserly, strong-willed, leader, adventurous
Main Subtext: Grace, reared in poverty, now independently wealthy, pretends she’s not rich for fear someone will take her money away. Anything a man can do, Grace can do it better.
Character #2: MADELINE
Description: A well preserved 70 year old retired Registered Nurse living in a posh retirement center in North Dakota, believes make-up and fashion solves all problems and lives to impress others.
Core Traits: spendthrift, seductive, protective, judgmental
Main Subtext: Madeline is a hypochondriac who is afraid to die. She convinces others that she is richer than she really is by flaunting her material possessions.
Character #3: IRIS
Description: A 65 year old throwback from the hippie era, Iris has never held a job in her life, lives off her deceased mother’s platitudes and a never ending trust fund. She lives in a posh retirement center in North Dakota with her friends, Grace and Madeline, and is along for the ride.
Core Traits: philanthropic, artistic, dreamer, gullible
Main Subtext: Iris is the eternal good girl who never initiates trouble, but often finds it through the actions of others.
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Lesson 10
Logline: Montana Game Warden, John Wright is held hostage at an elk camp where he inadvertently discovers the hunter’s plan to wage war against the government.
Essence: A terrorist group is posing as elk hunters.
EXT. HIGH COUNTRY, MONTANA—DAY Interesting Setting
A green 4-wheel drive pickup with State of Montana insignia on the doors grinds its way up a rough two track trail headed for Elk Camp that reportedly has been harassing other camps and harvesting elk illegally.
The driver, John Wright (32), wears the distinctive red uniform shirt of a Montana Game Warden. Hidden underneath is a shoulder holster that holds a Sig Sauer 9 mm semi-auto strapped tight against his chest. His long guns, a 30.06 scoped Ruger and a 12 gauge shot gun rest side by side on the seat next to him. Other gear includes a sleeping bag, a state issued taser, bear spray and a cooler with 2 days rations.
A garbled message comes over the mic. John checks his cell. No bars.
He keys the mic and responds in case the message was for him.
JOHN: Warden Wright, #88. 10-20 approaching the timber line. KAJ668.
Nothing but static comes through in return. He pats the dash of his vehicle and talks to the Ford as if it were human.
JOHN: Well Matilda, it appears we’re alone up here high above civilization. Loner
John sings “Big John” to himself, often off key between retrieved breaths caused by the rough ride.
Suddenly, the Ford’s front suspension takes a nose-dive, John’s head hits the steering wheel. The back wheels spin in place. The vehicle is stuck.
JOHN: What the hell?
John examines the damage to the front end. A ditch has been trenched across the road. John retrieves his heavy coat, coveralls, a red cap with ear flaps, ammo, gloves, his rifle and a few pieces of beef jerky.
He walks up toward the elk camp. Thin air and increasing wind velocity cause him to stop to catch his breath. Then there’s a gun barrel pressed against his back. Suspense
A Voice: Hands up, Mister, before I put a bullet right straight through you! I’ll take the rifle, thank you.
John complies with the order then turns to meet his captor’s eyes.
JOHN: You’re just a kid. What are you doing up here?
A homely, gangly, pimpled faced boy (14) dressed in full camo, looks up to John through his sunglasses.
THE KID: I’m with the my pa’s elk camp. I can guide and shoot better’in most men, so don’t try no funny business.
JOHN: Who’s your dad?
THE KID: You’ll find out. Now walk. Suspence
The kid punches John’s back with his rifle barrel.
THE KID: Faster!
SEVERAL BEATS
JOHN: Aha! I smell a wood campfire, elk carcasses and horses. This your camp?
THE KID: Yep.
The men sitting around the campfire, put their plates and beers down to grab their hunting rifles and stand with guns drawn on John.
THE KID: Hey, Dad! I got him!
NICK CROOKER (45) a haggard faced, almost toothless man, with tobacco stains running out of the corners of his mouth, clad in his never-been-washed, animal blood stained Carharts, saunters out of a tent. Proud of his importance, he gives John a long gaze before spitting on the ground. Confident
NICK: And…who do we have here? Damned it boys, we’ve harvested ourselves our very own Game Warden. How about them apples?
The men put down their guns and resume their supper.
JOHN: Are you holding me hostage? The state of Montana doesn’t pay ransom.
NICK: (Sarcastically) What you talk’in ‘bout? Ain’t no hostages here. You’re our guest. Care for some campfire steak? The boys said the elk was mighty tasty. Conniving
JOHN: Thanks. If I’m a guest, when do I get my rifle back?
NICK: We’ll keep it safe until it’s time for you to leave. We don’t want any foul play or accidents. (To his kid) Put our guest’s rifle and plunder in my tent.
JOHN: What about my pickup?
NICK: I doubt its goin’ much of anywhere. Want a beer?
JOHN: No thanks. I’m officially on duty and it is against policy to drink on the job. Loyal
The men guffaw.
MARTIN SAWYER: (40) a tall, burley man, with an eye patch and yesterday’s food stuck in his beard, turns to John.
SAWYER: There’s a law out here amongst us elk hunters you best get yourself acquainted with.
JOHN: What’s that?
NICK: There is no law!
The men shake their heads in agreement. The kid brings John a plate of steak in gravy, coffee, and a biscuit. He motions John to the fire. John sits with the hunters.
JOHN: This is mighty good. Tender and it tastes more like beef than elk. How’d you bring enough beef up here to feed all these guys? Distrustful
NICK: We have our ways.
The men grunt in agreement. John finishes his plate. The kid takes his plate and utensils.
JOHN: (to the Kid) My compliments to the cook.
THE KID: Thanks.
John gets up and goes to the carcass hanging on a line. He counts the elk. He then counts the men at the fire. Daring
JOHN: How many hunters in this camp?
NICK: Enough.
JOHN: Correct me if I’m wrong, but it appears there are more elk hangin’ than there are hunters. I need to see your permits, please. Daring
The hunters stand, dig through their wallets and present their permits. John inspects.
JOHN: When I get back to my truck, I’ll have to issue you citations for the carcasses you don’t have permits for.
THE KID: The extra elk go to the poor folks down home.
NICK: They can’t afford no meat except what we give them. Giving
JOHN: Philanthropy is a good thing. But not in this case. I’ll cite your dad in violation times 4. You have more elk than what you have permits for.
NICK: Why jist me? Them guys shot the elk. Not me.
JOHN: You are the guide are you not? You know the law.
NICK: I ain’t admitt’in to nothin’.
JOHN: You have permission to camp on this land?
NICK: This is government land. Don’t need no permission. We’re all taxpayers here. Confident
JOHN: This land is leased for grazing by the Flatrock Cattle Co.
NICK: Can’t be.
The kid, tearing up and sniffling, runs into a tent. John follows. Fear Character change
NICK: (Yelling to John) You can’t go in there! Damnit! That tent is off limits!
John ducks into the tent lined with racks of high powered AR15’s and AK47’s, with ammunition boxes stacked toward the back. Hanging from the back wall is a swastika flag. The kid is sitting on a ammo box, pouting and whittling a stick with his pocket knife.
JOHN: I’m sorry, kid. But the law is the law and it is my job to enforce it. Loyal
JOHN (tenderly) You’re a good kid. When I get back to my truck, I’ll give you…
THE KID: Good luck with that, stuppo cop! You ain’t got no pickup. It’s been stripped down. How do you think we get money for all this?
John steps outside. He is face to face with Nick.
JOHN: What is really goin’ on here? You planning a war?
NICK: Might. Confident
JOHN: A war with who?
SAWYER: The government. Then Jews and Jew lovers. Shows worst side
JOHN: Montana or D.C.?
SAWYER: Ya, them too.
A noise is heard in the timber. The hunters jump to their feet, guns ready to fire. Fear
JOHN: Kinda paranoid, aren’t you? Suspense?
NICK: Just careful. We had an unwanted visitor yesterday. A mad bull elk stormed through camp. Tore the hell out of things. But Hamilton here stepped up and shot his mad ass (chuckles). Served him right.
A rancher, Darrel Steel (50) on horseback picks his way through the timber to the elk camp. He rides into camp with his rife pointed upward. He points his AR at the hunters. Twist
STEEL: Throw your weapons down and your hands up, you damned low life, squattin’ sons of bitches! Freeze! And no funny business—or I’ll have to hurt you. You’re camp’in here without permission. And then you help yourself to one of my Herefords. I saw the hide hanging in a tree back there. It has my brand on it.
JOHN: Mr. Steel, I’m John Wright, Montana Game Warden. I’m being held hostage against my will. All these guys are huntin’without permission, they have butchered your cow, and they have harvested more elk than they have permits for. They have vandalized my truck and that ain’t the half of it. They’re plannin’ a war. Hope
STEEL: Jesus! This sounds like one hell of a mess.
With his rifle pointed on the hunters, Steel unties one of their riding horses. Leads the horse closer to the campfire.
STEEL: The tack is stacked over there. Saddle up this gelding. We’re gettin’ out’a here before dark or the National Guard shows up. Hope
NICK: Ha! No National Guard’s ever goin’ to show up here. You’re bluffing. You’ll never make it ou’ta here alive! Conniving
John commences to saddle the bay. When he leans under the horse’s belly to grab the cinch, he feels a cold gun barrel poking his back. He reaches into his left boot, pulls out his Buck fixed blade knife, wheels around and stabs his attacker in the gut. Fear
The attacker falls to the ground, blood filling his mouth and oozing through his jacket. Only then John recognizes the person he has killed. It is the kid.
JOHN: Oh shit! Oh no! Oh God! Surprise
STEEL: Did you just give them their war?
JOHN: Afraid so. Fear
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Screenwriting U—Creative Mastery—Lesson 8
Logline: Montana Game Warden, John Wright is held hostage at an elk camp where he inadvertently discovers the hunter’s plan to wage war against the government.
Essence: A terrorist group is posing as elk hunters.
EXT. HIGH COUNTRY, MONTANA—DAY
A green 4-wheel drive pickup with State of Montana insignia on the doors grinds its way up a rough two track trail headed for Elk Camp that reportedly has been harassing other camps and harvesting elk illegally.
The driver, John Wright (32), wears the distinctive red uniform shirt of a Montana Game Warden. Hidden underneath is a shoulder holster that holds a Sig Sauer 9 mm semi-auto strapped tight against his chest. His long guns, a 30.06 scoped Ruger and a 12 gauge shot gun rest side by side on the seat next to him. Other gear includes a sleeping bag, a state issued taser, bear spray and a cooler with 2 days rations.
A garbled message comes over the mic. John checks his cell. No bars.
He keys the mic and responds in case the message was for him.
JOHN: Warden Wright, #88. 10-20 approaching the timber line. KAJ668.
Nothing but static comes through in return. He pats the dash of his vehicle and talks to the Ford as if it were human.
JOHN: Well Matilda, it appears we’re alone up here high above civilization.
John sings “Big John” to himself, often off key between retrieved breaths caused by the rough ride.
Suddenly, the Ford’s front suspension takes a nose-dive, John’s head hits the steering wheel. The back wheels spin in place. The vehicle is stuck.
JOHN: What the hell?
John examines the damage to the front end. A ditch has been trenched across the road. John retrieves his heavy coat, coveralls, a red cap with ear flaps, ammo, gloves, his rifle and a few pieces of beef jerky.
He walks up toward the elk camp. Thin air and increasing wind velocity cause him to stop to catch his breath. Then there’s a gun barrel pressed against his back.
A Voice: Hands up, Mister, before I put a bullet right straight through you! I’ll take the rifle, thank you.
John complies with the order then turns to meet his captor’s eyes.
JOHN: You’re just a kid. What are you doing up here?
A homely, gangly, pimpled faced boy (14) dressed in full camo, looks up to John through his sunglasses.
THE KID: I’m with the my pa’s elk camp. I can guide and shoot better’in most men, so don’t try no funny business.
JOHN: Who’s your dad?
THE KID: You’ll find out. Now walk.
The kid punches John’s back with his rifle barrel.
THE KID: Faster!
SEVERAL BEATS
JOHN: Aha! I smell a wood campfire, elk carcasses and horses. This your camp?
THE KID: Yep.
The men sitting around the campfire, put their plates and beers down to grab their hunting rifles and stand with guns drawn on John.
THE KID: Hey, Dad! I got him!
NICK CROOKER (45) a haggard faced, almost toothless man, with tobacco stains running out of the corners of his mouth, clad in his never-been-washed, animal blood stained Carharts, saunters out of a tent. Proud of his importance, he gives John a long gaze before spitting on the ground.
NICK: And…who do we have here? Damned it boys, we’ve harvested ourselves our very own Game Warden. How about them apples?
The men put down their guns and resume their supper.
JOHN: Are you holding me hostage? The state of Montana doesn’t pay ransom.
NICK: (Sarcastically) What you talk’in ‘bout? Ain’t no hostages here. You’re our guest. Care for some campfire steak? The boys said the elk was mighty tasty.
JOHN: Thanks. If I’m a guest, when do I get my rifle back?
NICK: We’ll keep it safe until it’s time for you to leave. We don’t want any foul play or accidents.
JOHN: What about my pickup?
NICK: I doubt its goin’ much of anywhere. Want a beer?
JOHN: No thanks. I’m officially on duty and it is against policy to drink on the job.
The men guffaw.
MARTIN SAWYER: (40) a tall, burley man, with an eye patch and yesterday’s food stuck in his beard, turns to John.
SAWYER: There’s a law out here amongst us elk hunters you best get yourself acquainted with.
JOHN: What’s that?
NICK: There is no law!
The men shake their heads in agreement. The kid brings John a plate of steak in gravy, coffee, and a biscuit. He motions John to the fire. John sits with the hunters.
JOHN: This is mighty good. Tender and it tastes more like beef than elk. How’d you bring enough beef up here to feed all these guys?
NICK: We have our ways.
The men grunt in agreement. John finishes his plate. The kid takes his plate and utensils.
JOHN: (to the Kid) My compliments to the cook.
THE KID: Thanks.
John gets up and goes to the carcass hanging on a line. He counts the elk. He then counts the men at the fire.
JOHN: How many hunters in this camp?
NICK: Enough.
JOHN: Correct me if I’m wrong, but it appears there are more elk hangin’ than there are hunters. I need to see your permits, please.
The hunters stand, dig through their wallets and present their permits. John inspects.
JOHN: When I get back to my truck, I’ll have to issue you citations for the carcasses you don’t have permits for.
THE KID: The extra elk go to the poor folks down home.
NICK: They can’t afford no meat except what we give them.
JOHN: Philanthropy is a good thing. But not in this case. I’ll cite your dad in violation times 4. You have more elk than what you have permits for.
NICK: Why jist me? Them guys shot the elk. Not me.
JOHN: You are the guide are you not? You know the law.
NICK: I ain’t admitt’in to nothin’.
JOHN: You have permission to camp on this land?
NICK: This is government land. Don’t need no permission. We’re all taxpayers here.
JOHN: This land is leased for grazing by the Flatrock Cattle Co.
NICK: Can’t be.
The kid, tearing up and sniffling, runs into a tent. John follows.
NICK: (Yelling to John) You can’t go in there! Damnit! That tent is off limits!
John ducks into the tent lined with racks of high powered AR15’s and AK47’s, with ammunition boxes stacked toward the back. Hanging from the back wall is a swastika flag. The kid is sitting on a ammo box, pouting and whittling a stick with his pocket knife.
JOHN: I’m sorry, kid. But the law is the law and it is my job to enforce it.
John is starting to like this kid.
JOHN: You’re a good kid. When I get back to my truck, I’ll give you…
THE KID: Good luck with that, stuppo cop! You ain’t got no pickup. It’s been stripped down. How do you think we get the money for all this?
John steps outside. He is face to face with Nick.
JOHN: What is really goin’ on here? You planning a war?
NICK: You could say that.
JOHN: A war with who?
SAWYER: The government. Then Jews and Jew lovers.
JOHN: Montana or D.C.?
SAWYER: Ya, them too.
A noise is heard in the timber. The hunters jump to their feet, guns ready to fire on an intruder.
JOHN: Kinda paranoid, aren’t you?
NICK: Just careful. We had an unwanted visitor yesterday. A mad bull elk stormed through camp. Tore the hell out of things. But Hamilton here stepped up and shot his mad ass (chuckles). Served him right.
A rancher, Darrel Steel (50) on horseback picks his way through the timber to the elk camp. He rides into camp with his rife pointed upward. He points his AR at the hunters.
STEEL: Throw your weapons down and your hands up, you damned low life, squattin’ sons of bitches! Freeze.! And no funny business—or I’ll have to hurt you. You’re camp’in here without permission. And then you help yourself to one of my Herefords. I saw the hide hanging in a tree back there. It has my brand on it.
JOHN: Mr. Steel, I’m John Wright, Montana Game Warden. I’m being held hostage. All these guys are huntin’without permission, they have butchered your cow, and they have harvested more elk than they have permits for. They have vandalized my truck and that ain’t the half of it. They’re plannin’ a war.
STEEL: Jesus! This sounds like one hell of a mess.
With his rifle pointed on the hunters, Steel unties one of their riding horses. Leads the horse closer to the campfire.
STEEL: The tack is stacked over there. Saddle up this gelding. We’re gettin’ out’a here before dark or the National Guard shows up.
NICK: Ha! No National Guard’s ever goin’ to show up here. You’re bluffing. (Warning) You’ll never make it outa here alive!
John commences to saddle the bay. When he reaches under the horse’s belly to grab the cinch, he feels a cold gun barrel poking his back. He slowly reaches into his left boot, pulls out his Buck fixed blade knife, whirls around and stabs his attacker in the gut.
The attacker falls to the ground, blood filling his mouth and oozing through his jacket. Only then John recognizes the person he has killed. It is the kid.
JOHN: Oh shit! Oh no! Oh God!
-
Logline: Montana Game Warden, John Wright is held hostage at an elk camp where he inadvertently discovers the hunter’s plan to wage war against the government.
Essence: A terrorist group is posing as elk hunters.
EXT. HIGH COUNTRY, MONTANA—DAY
A green 4-wheel drive pickup with State of Montana insignia on the doors grinds its way up a rough two track trail headed for Elk Camp that reportedly has been harassing other camps and harvesting elk through illegally.
The driver, John Wright (32), wears the distinctive red uniform shirt of a Montana Game Warden. Hidden underneath is a shoulder holster that holds a Sig Sauer 9 mm semi-auto strapped tight against his chest. His long guns, a 30.06 scoped Ruger and a 12 gauge shot gun rest side by side on the seat next to him. Other gear includes a sleeping bag, a state issued taser, bear spray and a cooler with 2 days rations.
A garbled message comes over the mic. John checks his cell. Two bars.
He keys the mic and responds in case the message was for him.
JOHN: Warden Wright, #88. 10-20 approaching the timber line. KAJ668.
Nothing but static comes through in return. He pats the dash of his vehicle and talks to the Ford as if it were human.
JOHN: Well Matilda, it appears we’re alone up here high above civilization.
John sings “Big John” to himself, often off key between retrieved breaths caused by the rough ride.
Suddenly, the Ford’s front suspension takes a nose-dive, John’s head hits the steering wheel. The back wheels spin in place. The vehicle is stuck.
JOHN: What the hell?
John examines the damage to the front end. A ditch has been trenched across the road. John retrieves his heavy coat, coveralls, a red cap with ear flaps, ammo, gloves, his rifle and a few pieces of beef jerky.
He walks up toward the elk camp. Thin air and increasing wind velocity cause him to stop to catch his breath. Then there’s a gun barrel pressed against his back.
A Voice: Hands up, Mister, before I put a bullet right straight through you! I’ll take the rifle, thank you.
John complies with the order then turns to meet his captor’s eyes.
JOHN: You’re just a kid. What are you doing up here?
A homely, gangly, pimpled faced boy (14) dressed in full camo, looks up to John through his sunglasses.
THE KID: I’m with the my pa’s elk camp. I can guide and shoot better’in most men, so don’t try no funny business.
JOHN: Who’s your dad?
THE KID: You’ll find out. Now walk.
The kid punches John’s back with the rifle barrel.
THE KID: Faster!
SEVERAL BEATS
JOHN: Aha! I smell a wood campfire, elk carcasses and horses. This your camp?
THE KID: Yep.
The men sitting around the campfire, put their plates and beers down to grab their hunting rifles and stand with guns drawn on John.
THE KID: Hey, Dad! I got him!
NICK CROOKER (45) a haggard faced, almost toothless man, with tobacco stains running out of the corners of his mouth, clad in his never-been-washed, animal blood stained Carharts, saunters out of a tent. Proud of his importance, he gives John a long gaze before spitting on the ground.
NICK: And…who do we have here? Damned it boys, we’ve harvested ourselves our very own Game Warden. How about them apples?
The men put down their guns and resume their supper.
JOHN: Are you holding me hostage? The state of Montana doesn’t pay ransom.
NICK: What you talk’in ‘bout? Ain’t no hostages here. You’re our guest. Care for some campfire steak? The boys said the elk was mighty tasty.
JOHN: Thanks. If I’m a guest, when do I get my rifle back?
NICK: We’ll keep it safe until it’s time for you to leave. We don’t want any foul play or accidents.
JOHN: What about my pickup?
NICK: I doubt its goin’ much of anywhere. Want a beer?
JOHN: No thanks. I’m officially on duty and it is against policy to drink on the job.
The men guffaw.
MARTIN SAWYER: (40) a tall, burley man, with an eye patch and yesterday’s food stuck in his beard, turns to John.
SAWYER: There’s a law out here amongst us elk hunters you best get yourself acquainted with.
JOHN: What’s that?
NICK: There is no law!
The men shake their heads in agreement. The kid brings John a plate of steak in gravy, coffee, and a biscuit. He motions John to the fire. John sits with the hunters.
JOHN: This is mighty good. Tender and it tastes more like beef than elk. How’d you bring enough beef up here to feed all these guys?
NICK: We have our ways.
The men grunt in agreement. John finishes his plate. The kid takes his plate and utensils.
JOHN: (to the Kid) My compliments to the cook.
THE KID: Thanks.
John gets up and goes to the carcass hanging on a line. He counts the elk. He then counts the men at the fire.
JOHN: How many hunters in this camp?
NICK: Enough.
JOHN: Correct me if I’m wrong, but it appears there are more elk hangin’ than there are hunters. I need to see your permits, please.
The hunters stand, dig through their wallets and present their permits. John inspects.
JOHN: When I get back to my truck, I’ll have to issue you citations for the carcasses you don’t have permits for.
THE KID: The extra elk go to the poor folks down home.
NICK: They can’t afford no meat except what we give them.
JOHN: Philanthropy is a good thing. But not in this case. I’ll cite your dad in violation times 4. You have more elk than what you have permits for.
NICK: Why jist me? Them guys shot the elk. Not me.
JOHN: You are the guide are you not? You know the law.
NICK: I ain’t admitt’in to nothin’.
JOHN: You have permission to camp on this land?
NICK: This is government land. Don’t need no permission. We’re all taxpayers here.
JOHN: This land is leased for grazing by the Flatrock Cattle Co.
NICK: Can’t be.
The kid, tearing up and sniffling, runs into a tent. John follows.
NICK: (Yelling to John) You can’t go in there! Damnit! That tent is off limits!
John ducks into the tent lined with racks of high powered AR15’s and AK47’s, with ammunition boxes stacked toward the back. Hanging from the back wall is a swastika flag. The kid is sitting on a ammo box, pouting and whittling a stick with his pocket knife.
JOHN: I’m sorry, kid. But the law is the law and it is my job to enforce it.
THE KID: Good luck with that, stuppo cop! You ain’t got no pickup. It’s been stripped down. How do you think we get the money for all this?
John steps outside. He is face to face with Nick.
JOHN: What is really goin’ on here? You planning a war?
NICK: You could say that.
JOHN: A war with who?
SAWYER: The government. Then Jews and Jew lovers.
JOHN: Montana or D.C.?
SAWYER: Ya, them too.
A noise is heard in the timber. The hunters jump to their feet, guns ready to fire on an intruder.
JOHN: Kinda paranoid, aren’t you?
NICK: Just careful. We had an unwanted visitor yesterday. A mad bull elk stormed through camp. Tore the hell out of things. But Hamilton here stepped up and shot his mad ass (chuckles). Served him right.
A rancher, Darrel Steel (50) on horseback picks his way through the timber to the elk camp. He rides into camp with his rife pointed upward. He points his AR at the hunters.
STEEL: Throw your weapons down and your hands up, you damned lo life, squattin’ sons of bitches! Then freeze. And no funny business—or I’ll have to hurt you. You’re camp’in here without permission. And then you help yourself to one of my Herefords. I saw the hide hanging in a tree back there. It has my brand on it.
JOHN: Mr. Steel, I’m John Wright, Montana Game Warden. I’m being held hostage against my will. All these guys are huntin’without permission, they have butchered your cow, and they have harvested more elk than they have permits for. They have vandalized my truck and that ain’t the half of it. They’re plannin’ a war.
STEEL: Jesus! This sounds like one hell of a mess.
With his rifle pointed on the hunters, Steel unties one of their riding horses. Leads the horse closer to the campfire.
STEEL: The tack is stacked over there. Saddle up this gelding. We’re gettin’ out’a here before dark or the National Guard shows up.
NICK: Ha! No National Guard’s ever goin’ to show up here. You’re bluffing. You’ll never make it outa here alive!
John commences to saddle the bay. When he leans down to grab the cinch, he feels a cold gun barrel poking his back. He reaches into his left boot, pulls out his Buck fixed blade knife, wheels around and stabs his attacker in the gut.
The attacker falls to the ground, blood filling his mouth and oozing through his jacket. Only then John recognizes the person he has killed. It is the kid.
JOHN: Oh shit! Oh no! Oh God!
-
INT. Sally’s Bar & Grill – Early Evening
Ranch raised cowboys crowd into the bar. Reliving the days rodeo events and mishaps, the noise grows loud, drowning out “Stand By Your Man” blaring from the juke box.
Sally, a vivacious woman of a certain age and Sunny, soon to be middle aged, rush cans and bottles of beer to the cowboys seated and standing beside the bar stools and the only table.
Trent Kenner (26) and Robert Painter (25) enter. Robert proceeds down the row at the bar, greeting each one. Trent, his head held high, sees his friends Trigg (23) and Casey (19) wave. He sits in the chair they have saved for him.
While Sunny fills out the bar tabs, Sally hustles to the table.
SALLY: What can I get for ya’all? Another round?
TRIGG: You betcha’.
SALLY: Trent?
TRENT: A Bud is fine for me.
Trent sees Robert is on his way to the table.
TRENT: A Bud for Robert too.
ROBERT:(in a child like voice) I’m a big boy now. I can order all by myself.
TRENT: (Dismissive)Whatever.
Robert sits in the other saved chair. He glares at Trent.
ROBERT: Damn it. I hate it when he does that.
Robert turns to Trigg.
ROBERT: Hey, ole Casey won the bull ridin’ today. He’s rollin’ in dough. I say he oughta’ buy a round.
TRIGG: Good idea!
TRENT: He’ll do no such thing. He needs to save his pennies for college. Ain’t that right, college boy.
Trent stands on his chair and waves his hands to get everyone’s attention. All eyes are on him.
TRENT: Sally, the next round for the entire house is on me. Just put it on my tab.
The cowboys cheer. Trent gloats, basking in the attention.
SALLY: (Yells) Are you sure?
TRENT (snaps) I said so, didn’t I.
A homely high school age girl wearing tight wranglers and bracelets that jingle, walks past Trent.
TRENT: Hey, college boy. She your squeeze?
CASEY: Nope. Ain’t got no girlfriend.
Trent walks behind the girl, swaying his hips, mocking her. He glances back making sure he is being seen. The cowboys guffaw.
ROBERT leans in to Casey and Trigg.
ROBERT: I don’t know if it’s true, but Trent’s last girlfriend told me he is double gaited.
Trigg chokes on his beer and sprays all over the table. He slowly regains his composure.
CASEY: I don’t get it.
TRIGG: Trent’s girlfriend said he likes both guys and gals.
CASEY: Na. Geez! It can’t be true. Can it?
ROBERT: I, myself, haven’t seen any direct evidence, but girls are sensitive to things like that, you know.
Trent returns. Takes a swig of his beer. His arm rests on the table and comes up wet.
TRENT: Yuk! Who spilt beer all over the table? That’s just like a bunch of hillbillies.
TRENT (shouts) Bar rag!
A bar rag come flying across the room and lands on the table. Trent wipes down the whole table. Throws the bar rag toward the bar. It lands on Dan Jenkins (30) who turns around.
DAN: Trent, you do that?
TRENT: Nope. I wouldn’t do such a despicable thing.
ROBERT: Like hell you wouldn’t.
CASEY: (to Trent & Robert) You two could pass for twins. Are you brothers?
TRENT: Nope. Just kissin’ cousins!
Trent leans to Robert and makes kissing sounds near his cheek. Trent laughs. Trigg and Casey are repulsed.
Dan moves to the open door.
DAN: Man, oh man. Look at that rig!
Several cowboys crowd the door way, mesmerized.
ROBERT: Holy smokes! I’ve never seen a trailer as fancy as that!
TRENT: I’ve been thinkin’ about gettin’ one of those. Haulers, they call ‘em.
The cowboys return to their drinking as the driver heads toward the bar.
A tall, lean and lanky man with weathered features enters wearing a straw western hat, a t-shirt and alligator boots. He stands at the bar and gives Sunny a “to go” order.
Most of the cowboys fall silent in the presence of the stranger. Some stare at him, others talk in low tones. Robert remains with the cowboys at the bar.
ROBERT: Howdy stranger. I’m Robert and this here is my friend, Dan. You gotta’ name?
Robert and Dan hold out their hands. The stranger accepts their handshake.
STRANGER: I’m Viggo Mortensen. I’m headed to Rapid City to deliver a paint horse named Hidalgo he bought from our outfit in Texas.
Robert and Dan don’t realize they are talking to someone famous.
DAN: Is that right?
ROBERT: What outfit you with?
VIGGO: The Seven Arrows. Ever heard of it?
ROBERT: Can’t say I have.
VIGGO: I’m a shareholder. Where’s the men’s room?
Dan points toward the restrooms.
DAN: All the way down the hall and hang a left. Can’t miss it.
Viggo leaves. Trent gets eye contact with Robert. He tips his head in the direction of the men’s room. Robert acknowledges in agreement.
Robert and Trent amble toward the bathroom. On the way Robert pats a friend on the back.
Kip (35) a stout built bullfighter with curly, red hair turns to Robert and Trent.
KIP: Howdy. What’s up with you two?
TRENT: Want to have some fun?
KIP: Why him?
TRENT: I don’t like his looks. Pretendin’ he’s rich and all. Ya know what I mean?
KIP: I’m gettin’ too old for this shit. (Pause) Okay. But this is the last time. You got it?
Kip follows Trent and Robert to the men’s room. The door closes behind them.
DAN: (To Sunny) There’s gonna be trouble. Three against one isn’t my idea of fair play. I hate it when they do that.
We hear loud banging on the walls, glass breaking and cursing.
SEVERAL BEATS
Viggo emerges from the men’s room, securing his hat on his head. He stops at the bar, picks up his food order, a six pack of Blue Moon and pays with a $50 bill.
Viggo: (to Sunny) Keep the change. For repairs.
Viggo exits. The 440 horse diesel roars in slow gear as it makes its way to the highway. Gears shift up as it gains speed westbound.
CASEY: That was a $65,000 Pete. Right here in Buffalo Flats!
Trent and Robert stumble out of the men’s room with shirts torn, blood spurting out their noses. They walk slowly, every step painful. Robert spits a tooth into his bloody handkerchief.
TRENT: Better call the ambulance for Kip.
-
Never mind. I think it is fixed now.
-
Oh my. I don’t know what went wrong but my script seems to be mingled with Angelina’s. Sorry. Should I repost?
-
INT; SALLY’S BAR & GRILLE, BUFFALO FLATS, NEBRASKA – EARLY EVENING
Sally Blazey the owner, is a husky built woman of a certain age with carrot red hair. She is behind the bar filling the cooler. Sunny, her younger sister, serves beer to the regulars seated at the far end of the bar.
The jukebox plays a scratchy record of “Coal Miner’s Daughter.” Sally and Sunny sing along.
Ranch raised cowboys rush in from the fairgrounds rodeo arena. Dirty and sweaty, they elbow and shove to be first to the only table and the empty stools. Those without a seat crowd in between and stand, waiting to order. Sunny takes their orders while Sally sachets to the table.
Seated at the table are Trent Kenner (26) and Robert Painter (25). Both are dressed in red western cut shirts with the Rocking K brand embroidered on the back, large brimmed black western hats. Both have heavy black side burns and black, piercing eyes. Also at the table are friends, Trigg (23) and Casey (24), both unremarkable in dress and demeanor.
SALLY: What can I get for ya, boys?
TRIGG: Do you have Pabst Blue Ribbon?
SALLY: Sure thing. The truck came in this afternoon.
CASEY: A Blue.
ROBERT: Ole Casey here won the bull ridin’. He’s rollin’ in dough. He should buy the first round.
TRIGG: Good idea!
TRENT: Nothin’ doin”, Sally.
Trent stands on his chair and waves his arms to get everyone’s attention. He shouts.
TRENT (Cont.): I’m buyin’ the first round for the entire house!
The cowboys cheer. Trent gloats, basking in the attention.
SALLY: You sure?
TRENT (snaps) I said so, didn’t I? Get me a Bud. Get Robert a Bud too.
ROBERT: (in a childlike voice) I’m a big boy now. I can order all by myself.
TRENT (dismissive) Whatever.
SALLY: Two Blue and two Bud.
ROBERT: Change mine to a Blue.
SALLY: Three Blues and a Bud.
Sally turns to leave.
CASEY: Change mine to a Bud.
SALLY: Two Blues and two Bud.
TRIGG: I’ll have a Bud instead of a Blue.
SALLY: Three Bud and 1 Blue. Are you sure: Not gonna change ya mind again?
TRIGG: Nope.
Sally searches each face for a change in the order.
SALLY: Goin’ once. Goin’ twice…
She scurries back to the bar.
A homely girl wearing tight Wranglers passes by the table on her way to the powder room.
Trent follows, sways his hips, mocking her. He glances back, to see who is watching his performance.
TRENT (speaking in a feminine falsetto) I must go powder my perky little nose. See ya later, boys!
The boys at the table roar with laughter. Trent disappears into the men’s room.
TRIGG: I bet he’s a riot to travel with.
ROBERT: Not really.
Sally sets the beers on the table and pops the tops.
SALLY: Three Buds and a Blue.
TRIGG: (teasing) I think the order was for three Blues and a Bud.
SALLY: Cute! Boys, all I ask is that you behave tonight. The last time ya’all were here it cost you a pretty penny for the damages.
TRIGG: We’ll be good. Promise.
Sally leaves. Robert leans in close. The other two do the same.
ROBERT: I don’t know if it’s true…but Trent’s last girlfriend told me that he’s double gaited.
Trigg’s mouth gapes open. He chokes on his beer, spitting it across the table. He slowly regains composure.
TRIGG: Oh God.
CASEY: I don’t get it.
TRIGG: (lowering his voice) Trent’s last girlfriend found out he likes both guys and gals.
CASEY: Na. Geez. It can’t be true. Can it?
ROBERT: I, myself, haven’t seen any evidence, but girls are sensitive to things like that, ya know.
Trent returns. He sits and takes a swig of his beer. His other arm comes up wet.
TRENT: Yuk! Who spilt beer all over? That’s just like a bunch of hillbillies. Bar rag!
Trent goes behind the bar, finds the bar rag and wipes down the entire table. He wads up the bar rag and heaves it toward the bar. It hits a cowboy on the shoulder. Dan Clapper (30) turns to the table.
DAN: Hey, what’s the idea? Who threw this rag?
All the cowboys at the table put on their best expressions of innocence. Dan throws the rag to Sunny.
CASEY: (to Trent & Robert) You two could pass for twins. Are you brothers?
TRENT: Nope. Just kissin’ cousins.
Trent makes kissing noises in Robert’s ear. He laughs. Casey and Trigg are repulsed.
CASEY: (leaning toward Trigg) So, it’s true?
Trigg shrugs it off. Dan stands by the open door.
DAN: Man oh man! Look at that rig.
Several cowboys crowd around the doorway, frozen, awestruck. Robert breaks the spell.
ROBERT: Holy smokes. I’ve never seen a trailer like that before!
TRENT: I’ve been thinkin’ about gettin’ one of those. Haulers, they call ’em.
All the cowboys return to their seats.
A tall, lean and lanky cowboy with weathered features enters. He stands at the bar and gives Sunny his to go order.
The cowboys fall silent, staring at the stranger.
DAN: Howdy stranger. I’m Dan. You gotta’ name?
Dan holds his hand out and the stranger shakes it.
Stranger: I’m Viggo Mortensen. I’m headed to Rapid City to deliver a paint horse named Hidalgo this guy bought from our outfit in Texas.
Dan doesn’t realize he’s talking to someone famous.
DAN: Is that right. What outfit you with?
Viggo: The Seven Arrows. Ever heard of it?
DAN: Can’t say I have.
Viggo: I’m a shareholder and sit on the board of directors. Where’s the men’s room?
Dan points to the bathroom.
DAN: All the way down the hall then hang a left. Can’t miss it.
Viggo leaves. The cowboys at the bar look after him, trying not to let their curiosities show.
Trent gets Robert’s attention. Tips his head toward the men’s room. Robert shakes his head in agreement. They saunter toward the drinkers at the bar. Trent pats a friend on the back.
Kip (35) a bullfighter with red, curly hair turns to Trent.
KIP: Howdy. What’s ya up to?
TRENT: You up for some fun?
KIP: The stranger? Why him?
TRENT: He’s one arrogant son-of-a-gun and I don’t like his looks. His kind are woosies. Ya know what I mean?
KIP: (hesitant) Ya. Okay. But this is the last time. You got it.
Robert and Kip follow Trent to the men’s room. Trent closes the door behind him.
We hear loud banging against the walls, glass shattering, cursing.
Several Beats.
Viggo emerges from the men’s room securing his hat on his head, seemingly no worse for wear. He stops at the bar and picks up his burger and a six pack of Blue Moon.
He leaves a fifty dollar bill on the counter.
VIGGO (to Sally)Keep the change. Put it toward repairs for the men’s room.
Viggo exits. The 400 horse diesel roars as it makes it way to the highway in low gear. Gears shift up as it gains speed westbound.
CASEY: That was A 65,000 dollar rig. Right here in Buffalo Flats! Wow!
Trent and Robert emerge from the men’s room with their shirts torn, blood spurting out their noses. They walk slowly, every step painful. Robert spits a tooth into his bloody handkerchief.
TRENT: Better call the ambulance for Kip.
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Jo’s Max Interest Part 1
What I learned: Adding as many interest techniques as possible into the same scene elevates the tension and keeps the audience’s attention. Writing in all 7 techniques lengthened the sce but made it more interesting. I can always go back and cut the length if I have to.
Script: “Justice For All”
Scene: The banks of the Niobrara River
Logline: Barrett Scott, Holt County Treasurer, checks the still Hendrix started up. The proceeds from the sale of corn liquor will be used to repay Scott’s Treasury shortage and avoid charges of embezzlement.
Essence: Barrett Scott, in a state of fright, accidentally blows up the still and his last chance to collect monies for the Treasury.
New Logline: Barrett Scott inadvertently destroys his last chance to collect money to reimburse the Treasury.
Interest Techniques I Attempted to Use:
–Suspense
–Major Twist
–Uncertainty (hope/fear)
–Intrigue
–Surprise
–More Interesting Setting
–Betrayal
Scene Rewrite
EXT. THE STILL ON THE NIOBRARA – NIGHT
A dark night lit only by a few stars. The river laps at its banks. Bullfrogs croak. An owl hoots. Its mate returns the call. The air is still. Hose hooves clip/clock against the river road hardened by drought and previous travelers. The squeak of a worn buggy wheel hub. We see the dark outline of a horse and buggy driven by a rotund male.
Scott is in a light mood. His baritone voice belts out a tune.
SCOTT
Oh my darlin, oh my darlin, oh my darlin Clementine, you are lost and gone forever, very sorry Clementine.
The horse stops suddenly, it ears cocked forward, listening. Scott is jarred back to reality.
SCOTT
Come on, Bess.
Scott hips the horse. It dances back and forth in response to the stinging blows, but refuses to move forward.
SCOTT
Goll dern old nag! Make me walk clear down there. Scott lifts his shotgun and a barn lantern out of the buggy. Lights it with farmer matches. The lantern smokes and with a swish it lights. He adjusts the flame. The horse instinctively darts from the perceived fire.
SCOTT
Whoa, girl. Whoa
Scott ties one driving line to the only cottonwood near the foot trail. He limps dow a recently worn foot path, favoring is club foot. He stops to catch his breath Listens.
BEATS
Scott approaches the still, throws more precut firewood on the cooker fire. He hold the lantern inside the mash barrel half full of the bubbling ooze of fermented mash. He picks up the taster jar, blows the dust off, turns on the spigot. Takes a swig and another, shaking his head and blowing his lips after each swallow.
SCOTT
It oughta sell.
Scott’s mare whinnies as if to greet another horse. Scott peers into the dark. A jack rabbit bounds out of the brush, startles Scott. His mare whinnies again. A nighthawk takes flight with a piercing screech. Scott ducks.
A shadowed outline of a cowboy atop a horse moves near Scott’s horse. The mare nickers.
A nighthawk takes flight with a screech barely missing Scott’s head. He ducks.
SCOTT
Shit!
A twig snaps.
Scott wheels toward the sound. Waits. Listens.
Silence.
Scott loads both barrels of his 10 gauge shotgun.
He refills his cups and chugs it down. Coughs.
SCOTT
I know you’re there!
Scott stares into the darkness. Silence…Then a rustling in the brush. Scott’s breather is rapid. Attempts to calm himself with more hooch.
Scott point his gun in the direction of the sound. He aims…Waits…a doe. Scott exhales. Yells into the night…
SCOTT
You goddamn ghost!
Scott surveys all around him, pointing his gun in a half circle.
SCOTT
Show yourself, coward!
A rustling from the opposite direction.
Scott, becoming inebriated, hurries up the path, bumping from one side to the other, bush branches slapping at his chest and face. He stops. Catches his breath.
The fog rises from the river and slowly melds into the valley just as he sun peeks behind the hills.
SCOTT
What the hell do you want?
Silence.
Scott reaches the buggy, out of breath. He plunks the shotgun on the seat and the lantern on the floor. He hurries to untie the mare.
Scott struggles to hoist himself into the lurching buggy attached to a nervous mare.
He settles on the seat. Puts the shotgun across his lap. Holds the lines taunt.
SCOTT
I ain’t got no money. All I’ve got to my name is a couple of horses, my wife and my daughter.
You can have my wife for 5,000 dollars. You hear me? A measly 5 grand.
Silence.
SCOTT
You rotten bastard.
Scott’s horse jigs, rattling the harness.
SCOTT
Whoa, Bess. Whoa I said.
Scott stares into the bog. For a brief moment we see a blurry figure mounted on a black stallion. Scott’s horse nickers. Scott fires the 10 gage into the fog. The figure disappears.
Scott’s mare paws the dirt. Scott grabs the lines.
SCOTT
Settle down Bess. I killed the spook.
A rustling.
Scott fires the second barrel of his gun. The thunderous sound rumbles down the valley.
The still explodes.
Scott’s rares, dumps Scoot to the floor of his buggy. He loses his hold on the lines. His once bullet proof mare becomes a wild runaway.
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Jo Profiles People
What I Learned: I believe I have done this exercise in a previous ScreenwritingU course, but I found it valuable to repeat the experience. Extreme people make the most interesting characters and as a result I decided to add more extreme character traits to 2 of my lead “old lady” characters. My character’s core traits place them in conflict with one another, with other characters and with society’s expectations. What fun!
Person 1
Character Traits:
1. Controlling
2. Miserly
3. Judgemental
4. Musical
Person 2
Character Traits:
1. Drunkard
2. Obnoxious
3. Braggart
4. Loyal
Person 3
Character Traits:
1. Dependent
2. Dreamer
3. Artistic
4. Altruistic
**After interacting with each person above at a graduation party, I changed 2 of the traits I listed initially because I detected a stronger, more prominent core trait.
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Lesson 2
Jo Puts Essence to Work
What I Learned: It is more difficult to find the Essence in your own script than on a script written by someone else. This is a difficult task but it surely improved my scenes.
Script I Chose: “Justice For All” It is a historical western (1894) based upon a true story
Scene 1 Location: Lester’s Livery—p. 22
Logline: The Sweeney boy is beaten by Hendrix Akin & Darr, Scott’s cronies
Essence I’ve Discovered: The good ole boy, Barrett Scott, reveals his dark side
New Logline: Scott oversees the beating of the Sweeney boy because his father has not repaid the loan he secured courtesy of Scott’s generosity
Scene 2 Location: County Treasurer’s Office—p. 14
Logline: Paddock pauses briefly to read Scott’s name and title on Scott’s open door and tips his hat to Scott on his way to the County Attorney’s office
Essence I’ve Discovered: Scott is frightened of Paddock
New Logline: Scott, looking out his window, sees Paddock, then hears him coming up the stairs so he rushes to close and lock his door, turns off the light and hides behind the open vault door
Scene 3 Location: Holt County Court Room–p. 19
Logline: Scott’s treasury shortage is revealed by Murphy
Essence I’ve Discovered: Scott’s biggest fears have come to fruition
New Logline: County Attorney Murphy calls for Scott’s impeachment
Scene 4 Location: Holt County Courthouse Steps—p. 24
Logline: Scott emerges to an angry crowd and looks for a quick escape route
Essence I’ve Discovered: Scott is a politician first, husband and father second
New Logline: Scott delivers the campaign speech of his life, wins over the crowd and guides his wife and daughter back into the building
Scene 5 Location: Scottville School—p. 41
Logline: Darr and Akin find Scott is short of votes
Essence I’ve Discovered: Scott must win the election so he has the chance to collect monies or cook the books to clear himself of embezzlement charges
New Logline: Scott arrives at the School and helps Darr and Akin burn the ballots against Scott
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Lesson 1: Understanding Essence
Jo Finds The Essence
What I Learned: Essence is the core meaning of a scene; it is the trunk which holds the branches of action, etc.; not all scenes will have a profound essence; identifying the essence is necessary for taking writing to a higher level; the concept of essence transfers to all genres where great writing is desired.
Script I chose: “Nebraska” by Robert W. Nelson
Scene 1 Location: Page 51—The Steakhouse
Logline: Woody stands as the crowd applauds him for becoming a millionaire
Essence: Positive recognition is a once in a lifetime experience for Woody
Scene 2 Location: Page 70—A cornfield at Woody’s childhood home
Logline: David asks Woody if he could do life over would he choose to farm
Essence: Woody knows he cannot change the past
Scene 3 Location: Page 76—Blinker Tavern
Logline: Ed Pegram duns Woody for some of the money Woody has won
Essence: Woody’s friends believe they are entitled to a handout
Scene 4 Location: Page 77—Blinker Tavern
Logline: Woody’s precious sweepstakes letter is stolen by two nephews
who attack him
Essence: Woody’s hopes are dashed
Scene 5 Location: Page 79—Blinker Tavern
Logline: Ed Pegram reads aloud Woody’s sweepstakes letter as the occupants laugh
Essence: Woody is humiliated
My selection for the most profound essence: My computer & printer are not communicating so I am unable to reproduce a section of the script. However, I chose the final scenes from pages 89 through 91. Here David allows Woody to drive David’s newly purchased pickup with a new Sears air compressor in the box. Woody is sporting his new cap that says Sweepstakes Winner. Woody, with a proud expression, drives down Mainstreet for all to see. Ed Pegram steps out of the Tavern in time to witness Woody in the new truck. Woody is redeemed.
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Hello Everyone. Jo here from the Sandhills of Nebraska where cows out number people 5 to 1. I am a small cattle and horse rancher and a retired Prof. of English, Speech and Theatre. I have written 5 scripts that might have promise; almost all are a product of one or more of Hal and Cheryl’s classes. I was just getting into the habit of writing every day when in ’19 we had a death in the family, I contacted Covid in ’20, I suffered a broken hip in ’21 and I had knee surgery in ’22. Through this class I intend to get back into writing in general and working on at least one of my scripts that might have potential as a contest entry.
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Hello Everyone. Jo here from the Sandhills of Nebraska where cows out number people 5 to 1. I am a small cattle and horse rancher and a retired Prof. of English, Speech and Theatre. I have written 5 scripts that may have promise; almost all are a product of one or more of Hal and Cheryl’s classes. I was just getting into the habit of writing every day when in ’19 we had a death in the family, I contacted Covid in ’20, I suffered a broken hip in ’21 and I had knee surgery in ’22. Through this class I intend to get back into writing in general and working on at least one of my 5 scripts that might have potential for a contest entry.
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Jo Nickel
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