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By chris Date: 2006 Dec 18 Comment on this Work [[2006.12.18.12.35.18852]] |
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Scene I: INT., Austin, Texas, bar, night. Red (28) is sitting at the bar. He is tall and of slight build. His blonde hair looks disheveled and uncombed. He's wearing army surplus cargo pants and a blue tie-dye that looks like he made it himself back in high school. He has on scuffed cowboy boots. June (28) walks over to bar and sits down next to Red. She's just finished her shift at the Zebra Lounge, a topless club next door. She's small--about six inches shorter than Red--and has a distinctly Mediterranean look. Her shoulder-length curly hair is now black, but the still-visible roots are auburn. She's wearing barely any makeup. The cigarette smoke is thick. 'Midnight in Montgomery' by Alan Jackson is playing on the jukebox. June: God, who put on this shit? Red: Show respect. It's the best dead-Hank song ever recorded. It's a whole subgenre in country. June: So you're a kicker? Red: I kick ass when I need to. What're you talkin' about? June: Forget it. You're not from Austin, are you? Red: Who IS from Austin? June: Yeah. Good question. Red: [He eyes her up and down, thinks she'd be perfect emerging from a blue pool in full sunlight.] You're a dancer. I saw you dance the other night. You remember me? June: No. I see lots of guys. Although [she looks at his clothes] I think I woulda remembered you. Red: Hey! Don't diss the shirt. Made it with my sweetheart in high school. June: Yeah. Looks it. [She laughs, but nicely.] Red: What are you drinkin'? June: Whatever does the job. Red: [He grins.] Got something you wanna forget? June: My entire existence. Red: I'll drink to that. Have a Foster's. I'll get you one. June: Thanks. Should mix nicely with the vodka shots I've been downing. [Red asks the bartender for a Foster's. She brings it and places it on a coaster in front of June.] Red: I hear Brooklyn in your accent. Where you from, anyway? June: Let's see. You may regret asking that. First Far Rockaway, then Houston, then San Diego, then San Antonio, now here. I'm full Italian, though. That's probably what you hear. Red: Yeah. Well, I'm Irish. We make better beer. Can't cook to save our eternal souls, though. June: Food is overrated. Look, I KNOW you're no native Texan. What place do you call home, you no-good carpetbagger? Red: I was born in New York. I'd rather talk about you. About how you dance. June: I'm flattered. What were you doin' in a titty bar anyway? Red: Maybe I knew you'd be there. June: Oh God. Not that line. Red: Maybe it's the truth. June: So why Austin? Red: Why not Austin? Austin is the edge, baby. Don't you know? June: Fill me in. Red: The low edge of the High Southwest! It's good and hot, good and corrupt, full of soulless yuppies who haven't got a fucking clue what they're in this world for. It's LA with cactus and worse traffic. June: Hmm. Good way to put it. LA's in my screenplay. Red: That's what you do? June: So to speak. My two characters are fleeing to LA, pursued by all manner of demons and bullshit. Red: Do they make it? June: Don't know. Haven't gotten that far yet. Red: Oh... Scene II: INT., Red's car, Austin at night, an hour later. Red and June are both drunk. Red is driving down Lamar Boulevard, veering toward the curb, then the center turning lane. They're both laughing hysterically. Music: 'Trip Like I Do' by Crystal Method Red: Shit, this is one curvy motherfuckin' road. June: Idiot! You're drunk. I'm drunk. How does this movie end? Red: You tell me, baby. I go where you tell me to. June: I didn't tell you anything! Red: I'm in love! June: [rolls her eyes] God... Red: ...And I wanna drive til the road ends. I wanna drive... I wanna take you to the desert. It's only five short hours away, you know. Last weekend I drove to Sonora. Do you BELIEVE that shit? [laughs maniacally] June: No. Red: The chick in the Dairy Queen said I'd gone too far to go back. I had to go home with her. I'm glad I didn't listen. I could never have loved her. June: Shut up already. Red: She couldn't have loved me either. She just sensed that I was from someplace different. I'd carried the depravity of this city on me like cheap aftershave. She could smell it. You I could love. Don't ask me how I know. June: Just take me to my apartment. Yeah we can get naked. You don't have to be in love. Red: [looking hurt] Believe what ya want. June: I'm a survivor. I'll survive even the likes of you. Red: You won't if I drive this car into that Starbucks. June: Watch it! You're insane. Red: Just drunk. So are you, missy. June: I'm gonna be sick. Red: Hold that thought. [He pulls into a convenience store parking lot. June opens the door, vomits onto the pavement.] Red: Gotta learn to hold your liquor. Be a man about it. June: [leans back against the seat. Her hair is wet and matted. It is April 1st and already hot.] Don't make jokes, Red. I'm in bad shape. Red: [softening] Oh...hey...I'm sorry. Let me take you home and tuck you in. [Their eyes meet. He kisses her twice on the cheek.] I'm sorry I encouraged you to drink all that beer. Tell me where you live again. I'm not of sound mind at the moment. June: Thank you... Scene III: INT., June’s apartment. It’s a small efficiency on the edge of the barrio. Few pictures are on the wall. One is a brooding shot of Jim Morrison. Another, looking like it belongs in a child’s room, is of a unicorn. They’re on the bed. June is wearing an oversized t-shirt. June: [holding her head] I wanna die. Red: It’s okay. You workin’ tomorrow night? June: Yeah. I work every day. To afford this shithole. Red: Sucks, I know. That’s my life too. You DON’T wanna see my place. June: Yes I do. Red: Would scar you for life. June: I’m already scarred. [awkward silence] So why aren’t you doin’ anything? Red: Baby, I’m out of it. Alertness matters. June: You’re gay. Red: [sighs] Come on... June: You don’t like my tits. I don’t know why they hired me there. Got the job on sheer charisma alone. Red: You’re good. I don’t like all those guys droolin’ over you. June: ...I suppose my ass helps... Red: Stop it. I’m not gonna fuck ya right now. Maybe later. I told you, I’m in love. Stop trying to cheapen this. That’s my job. June: Love is the worst of the four-letter words. Call me a cunt, but don’t say you love me. You don’t know me. Red: I’ve always known you. I think... June: Don’t get mysterious on me, either. Red: I mean...hell, I’m gonna pass out soon. Every time I drink this much I say never again. I’m sick of the lies. Sick of the lies to myself. June: Yeah, you’re a drunk alright. And you talk too much. [smiles] Red: But you have a soft spot for me. I knew it. [closing his eyes] June: I’m gonna turn the light out. Red: Yeah... [She reaches over and turns off the standing lamp by the bed.] June: How do you sleep in those boots? Red: I don’t...usually... June: Shhhh. [brushes his cheek] You took care of me. I’m not gonna forget that. Let’s not talk about love. At least for a few days. Red: [slurring his words] Ok. Yes. The universe is expanding...I’m going with it...I may not be here in the morning. June: I’ll hold on to you then. Red: Baby.. Scene IV: INT., June’s apartment, 11:30 that morning. Red and June are asleep in bed. Red’s beeper starts going off. It’s on the dresser with his car keys. Red: [groggily] Shit... June: Who? Red: Probably Harry. I’ve only got one friend in Austin, so chances are good it's him. [slowly gets up, stretches, walks over and examines it.] Yeah. Harry Potter alright. June: Huh? Red: He looks like Harry Potter. [June looks confused.] Long story. His name is Chris. I work with him. He’s a lit major at UT. Just a kid. He’s got an excuse to be workin’ at the Quick-E Mart, I guess. June: What’s yours? Red: I like bein’ around lotto tickets and cigarettes and booze. What I call a quality work environment. Where’s your phone? June: [There’s a portable phone on the floor by the bed. She hands it to Red. He makes the call.] Red: Hey... I’m at a girl’s apartment. I’m hungover, man. This is my day off. Why are you callin’? Oh... When? Yeah, I guess so. Maybe we’ll drop by. Later... [hands phone back to June] Some guys from work are playin’ pool after they get off today. You up for it? June: I’m dancing at eight. Red: Ok. We got time. June: I need... I need to take a shower. Take about six Tylenol. Drink a bottle of Scope maybe. [She heads for the bathroom. Red grabs her from behind.] What?! Red: I wanna kiss you. June: No you don’t. Red: Yes I do. [They kiss. Red caresses her hair.] God, you’ve got great hair. [They touch noses.] Amazing how much better kissing is when you’re not smashed all to hell, ain’t it? June: Yeah... Red: Lots of things are better sober. June: [mischievously] Like what? You gonna show me? Red: Yeah. [They kiss again, harder. His hands move to her breasts.] June: [between kisses] No...boots...though... |