100 Proof 6
Extended w/o illustrations
EXT. CAFE — NIGHT
A red El Camino pulls into the lot, parks beside a beat-up truck.
INT. CAFE — NIGHT
WANDA, a uniformed waitress, pulls a pencil from her beehive hairdo.
Del Dickel, Whiskey’s father, straddles a stool at the counter.
Del pushes Whiskey’s high school photo towards the Waitress.
Del: Seen this girl?
Wanda: No, sir. But if your legs ain’t broke, there’sa pot fulla coffee and plenty of orphan cups over to your right. Self-serve.
Del: Thanky.
Del makes his way to the end of the counter to get a cup and sees the Pandy Bros., dressed like evangelical preachers, sitting in a nearby booth.
Theran Pandy (to Del): Evenin’ to you, brother. Praise the Lord.
Wilbur: Jesus loves you, son.
Del (nods): Yeh.
Wes, Jimbo, Big Roy and Hank push their way into the cafe. They’re wired, nervous, excitable, and likely strung out on amphetamines.
Wes catches sight of Del’s photo on the counter. Recognizes Whiskey. Points out the photo to Big Roy.
Wes: Ain’t that...
Big Roy: Shore is.
Del returns to his seat with a hot cup of joe.
Del: You boys know my daughter?
Wes: I seen her. Seen her with those damn rodeo folks.
Del: That would be her alright.
Wanda, eavesdropping, adds to the conversation.
Waitress: There’s a rodeo woman lives on Rt. 32 outside Muldoon off Rosie Road. You’ll see signs all over—Dirtdobber Ranch.
Del: Hmm.
Del drops some cash on the counter.
Del: Thanks muchly.
Wes, Jimbo, Big Roy, and Hank watch Del exit the cafe. Then follow behind him.
Wanda: Family’s important.
A bell in the kitchen rings.
Voice (from kitchen): Order’s ready.
Wanda appears lost in thought as she picks up the order.
Wanda: First thing I seen when that man showed me that girl’s pit’cher - Good breedin’ hips. Babies’ll pop out her like soda from a cola machine.
Wanda places two steaming plates on the Pandy’s table.
Theran: Bless you, sister.
The brothers prepare to dig in.
Wilbur: God’s bounty.
Theran: Praise the Lord and pass the ketchup.
INT. KWANIS CLUB COMMUNITY CENTER DANCE HALL - STAGE
An older man (ANNOUNCER) in a KwanIs cap steps up to the micrphone. A bluegrass band sets up behind him.
Announcer: Evenin’ folks! (taps live mic) How y’all doin’?
Patrons hoot, holler, and clap.
Announcer: Hey Deck, gimmee some light! (taps mic again) Test. Test. (calls out) Can you hear me back there, Velma?
Spotlight falls on the Announcer.
Announcer: There it is. (beat) Welcome, welcome, welcome to this very special night up here at the Center!
ENTRANCE
Whiskey and Bobo are standing in line to get their hands stamped. Whiskey leans in to whisper something to Bobo.
Note: Bobo is still wearing his rodeo clown makeup.
Announcer (OS): Proceeds made here night s’gonna go toward the Picnic Fund, you know, for th’ picnic, the shelter and all that.
Announcer (OS): I think I see Fern workin’ the register.
Spotlight strikes FERN standing by a cash register waving off the attention. Beside her, an old woman in a hairnet places a tray of okra bags on a nearby table.
Announcer (OS): And the ladies in the kitchen want you folks to know there’s fried okrie in a sack for sale at the entry there. Go pick up a bag or two, why don’t ya? Let’s make this year’s picnic a doozy!
Bobo purchases two sacks of fried okra.
Announcer (OS): Awright now. Ya’ll better hold on to your hats. And yer gals. (snickers) You know what I’m talkin’ about. ‘Cos here they come . . . steee-raight from a pickin’ at the Cotton Touch Lounge in Spa Springs. Ladies and Gents—Red Rooster and the Wagon Wheels!
The band launches into a tune.
Bobo and Whiskey munch on fried okra balls while the bluegrass band plays.
Bobo looks over at Whiskey who’s enjoying the band.
Whiskey dips her hand into an okra sack and sees that Bobo is looking over at her. She pops a few okra balls. Scrunches her nose, then smiles back at Bobo.
Whiskey sidles up to Bobo. Arm in arm they watch the band.
INT. KWANIS CLUB COMMUNITY CENTER — WOMEN’S REST ROOM - LATER
Two ladies, LaDONNA and TRIX, with beehive hairdos and countrified hoochie mama gear, fix their faces at the mirror.
Whiskey enters.
LaDonna: . . . and he couldn’t watch “Love Island” without no beer. Cheap ass som bitch flicked a lit cigarette at me while I’s tryin’ to breast feed little Rocky. Slammed the trailer door, woke our boy Vern. He cried out, “Where’s daddy goin Mama, Where’s daddy goin?”
WOMEN’S REST ROOM - STALL
WHISKEY enters a stall.
She spreads toilet paper around the toilet seat.
TRIX (OS): Best not take your eyes off those babies.
WHISKEY squats to pee.
WOMEN’S REST ROOM
LaDonna smirks.
LaDonna: Oh Hell, Lud ain’t interested in those babies.
Trix: No, I mean, well, you know, cos, you know, them baby snatchers.
STALL
LaDonna (OS): Baby snatchers?
WOMEN’S REST ROOM
Panel 1: The two ladies continue to preen at the mirror.
Trix: You hear ‘bout Deb? Girl, she lost her twins over at Darnell just last week.
LaDonna: Deb? Oh my God.
STALL
Whiskey, disturbed, flushes the toilet.
Trix (OS): Lady down the road — Shirl —she woke one mornin’ t’ an empty cradle. Somebody come in the house and just snatched her little’un. Like a fox in the hen house, what Dooder said.
LaDonna (OS): Land a mercy.
WOMEN’S REST ROOM
LaDonna places a hand on Trix’s shoulder.
LaDonna: You know what, hon, I’m goin’ home right now. Straight home. I left my sister with the kids and, well, she’s dumber’n a post.
LaDonna turns at the door to give Trix one last glance.
Trix: Go on. Git! I’ll be fine. Dooder’ll git me home.
LaDonna heads for the door. Trix joins her.
LaDonna: You behave.
Trix: Kiss them babies nite-nite for me.
Both ladies exit.
The bathroom door shuts tight.
WHISKEY, still very disturbed, steps out of the stall.
She washes her hands at the sink. Stares at her pale face in the mirror.
INT. KWANIS CLUB COMMUNITY CENTER — BAR
Later. NEVA, the RODEO CLOWNS (Professor, Bobo, Toby) and WHISKEY are drinking Tequila - hard. Everyone’s red-eyed drunk and getting sloppy.
NEVA pours Tequila into a shot glass, yammering all the while.
Neva: We had us a little foreign exchange conference at the Sushi Bar Ranch in Kure. (to Whiskey) That’s Japan, honey.
NEVA pours salt in the flesh between her thumb and forefinger...
...sucks it...
...takes a hit of Tequila…
...sucks on a lime slice…
…then shakes off the sting with a shiver.
An intercutting or a series of hypnotic lap dissolves: Excessive drinking all around. WHISKEY slams Tequila. Shots of the others getting progressively sloshed. Close-ups of Neva’s mouth yakking away...
Neva: Made me take my boots off t’ enter the house (goofy face) but otherwise we got along pretty good. Pretty good. (turns to face Bartender, yells) Barkeep! Got any Saki? (to Whiskey) Man that stuff’ll loosen your sluices, for sure. Snot slingin’, commode huggin’ dee-runk. God bless America!
Toby is the first to fall off his stool and pass out on the floor. PROFESSOR stiffly holds onto his shot glass as if it’s his only means of support. NEVA ignores them, continues yakking:
Neva: Then we wuz up to Italy, and there wuz all these I-talians wuz comin’ up to me sayin’ “Ciao”. That means “hello”, see. But there I was thinkin’ we were ‘bout to put on the feedbag. (cackles)
NEVA knocks back a shot, giving the PROFESSOR an opportunity to rasie a glass and make a toast.
Professor: To my parents, God bless their souls, alcohol was life’s blood. And like characters from a Noel Coward play, they whiled away their hours drinking, smoking, exchanging pleasantries and dishing barbs. A state of exquisite, inebriated boredom.
Bobo (half-hearted, woozy cheer): Yay!
Professor slowly waves his arm for attention. He hasn’t finished.
Professor: I, however, never developed a tolerance for the effects of alcohol. (beat) Two drinks and I’m pissed as the Duke of York.
Professor momentarily stares off into space, then passes out in a very stiff, petrified British fashion.
BOBO also falls forward, groaning. Out.
Whiskey (confides in Neva): Bo’s kinda cute.
Neva:I guess.
Neva cocks a brow, gives Whiskey a steady look.
Neva: So, girly girl, you never said if you wuz comin’ to the Ranch tomorrow?
Whiskey: Yes ma’m. (nods) Believe I will.
Neva: Pardon me for bein’ such a mama hen, but do your people know your whereabouts? Just curious.
Whiskey: Naw, My daddy’s usta my wild ways. He won’t worry too much.
Whiskey slugs back tequila while Neva examines her new friend.
Neva: I know I said this afore, but I shore do appreciate your help with that ol’ buffalo today.
Whiskey wipes her mouth with her sleeve.
Whiskey: I’s glad to help.
Neva flashes a big, goofy smile.
Neva: You an’ me girl, we’s cut of the same cloth. Calico, I’d expect. Coarse, but brightly colored as Hell.
A BARMAID wipes down tables and sets chairs.
Wes is outside looking through the window. The bartender waves him away, then flicks the overhead lights on and off.
Bartender: I’m bout t’ close. No last rounds. No special favors. GIT!
The Bartender waves a rag over his head.
Bartender: Everybody! Out of the pool.
Whiskey attempts to stir Bobo who looks to be in a catatonic state.
Neva (to Bartender): You got one of those truck thingies? Them rolly jiggers ya bring yer kegs in with? A dolly. That’s it, right? A dolly. You got one?
Whiskey (fuzzyheaded, snickering): That man don’t play with no dollies, Neva.
Bartender: What if I do?
Neva jerks a thumb at the passed out Rodeo clowns.
Neva: Gonna need to borrow it. Get these clowns outside. Might need to sell their asses on the street for cab fare.
Neva kicks Professor’s chair.
Whiskey laughs uncontrollably as the bartender shakes his head, grunt.
INT. NEVA’S PINK CADILLAC - MORNING
Charging down country road, windows open, with Neva at the wheel. Whiskey, on the passenger side, appears mesmerized by the glorious sunrise.
Neva: What I’m trying to say, Whiskey gal, is, well, being a cowgirl is a hard ‘ol life. Keeps you from your family. The work’ll break a back. Whole lotta twisted up ol’ gals out there. Some been kicked in the head too many times. None of ‘em got nobody to share those golden years. No babies... grandbabies. Just yellowin’ photos and a handfulla frayed blue ribbons.
Whiskey ignores Neva, she’s still taking in the sunrise.
BACKSEAT
The three clowns are passed out on top of each other.
Neva (OS): Don’t wanna be scarin’ you off or nothing. Just want you to hear the lowdown in front of God (adjusts rear view mirror) and every clown within hearin’ shot.
One of Bobo’s eyelids pops open.
FRONT SEAT
Neva: So when you’re laid up in the hospital with no posies, or get well cards at your side you just remember that it was Neva what took the time to set ya straight. No frills.
Whiskey: Miss Neva, last night was the best time I ever had in my whole life. I just want to thank you for—
Neva: Last night? HA! Party’s just gettin’ started, sweetie.
Neva and Whiskey take in the early morning light.
Neva: Justa gettin’ started.
EXT. COUNTRY ROAD
Out of nowhere, a red El Camino bangs into the bumper of Neva’s caddy.
Neva, Whiskey, and the rodeo clowns in the backseat are rattled.
Wes, Big Roy, Hank and Jimbo, bunched up in the front seat of the El Camino, laugh hysterically as Wes hits the accelerator and bangs into the caddy again.
Neva loses control and the caddy goes sailing off the road.
TO BE CONTINUED . . .
100 Proof (extended script) is based on a story featured in this IMAGE COMICS graphic novel:
How about some 100 Proof Aged In Soul for the potential film soundtrack?: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TIkny3aDQSo
Those poor clowns can't hold their liquor! And the Great Missing Baby Mystery progresses...