100 Proof 9
Extended w/o illustrations
INT. CONVERTED CHURCH - (FORMER SACRISTY) SIDE DOOR
Whiskey enters a dark room filled with barrels laid out on their bellies like wine casks. As she gets closer to one of the barrels, she notices a cutout opening with something squirming inside.
Theran: Heretic!
Theran Pandy jumps out from behind one of the barrels and lunges at Whiskey with a machete.
Whiskey swerves, causing Theran to stumble into a barrel.
A BABY that’s been sleeping inside the disturbed barrel begins to wail, waking all the other sleeping babies being kept inside barrels.
Whiskey kicks Theran in the groin. Then, as he bends over in pain, she smacks him good with a jaw cracking uppercut. Theran and the machete hit the floor with a thud and a clang.
Whiskey scoops up the crying baby from the disturbed barrel.
In a room filled with crying babies, Whiskey attempts to calm the one.
Whiskey: Shhh, darlin’. Shhh.
Gently bouncing the baby in her arms, Whiskey slowly turns toward the exit.
Wanda is standing at the threshold, taking in the overwhelming noise of caterwauling babies.
Wanda, tears welling in her eyes, looks down at the shotgun in her hands.
Whiskey clings tightly to the pacified baby in her arms. Gasps.
Whiskey: No.
EXT. CONVERTED CHURCH
BAAMMM!!!
From inside the building, the sound of a gun going off breaks through the din of wailing babies.
Bobo, woozy, hand pressed against his bleeding shoulder, makes a feeble attempt to rise. But drops to his knees, wrenching with pain.
A POLICE CAR arrives on the scene. Blue lights flashing. Siren blaring.
EXT. CONVERTED CHURCH - SUNSET
At this point, the building is surrounded by police vehicles. There’s also an EMS ambulance on hand.
NOTE: Police continually carry kidnapped, crying babies out of the building while the following conversation takes place.
THE SHERIFF speaks with Whiskey. Nearby, Bobo’s wound is being treated by a PARAMEDIC.
Sheriff: Ol’ Wanda, she’s had a rough go after her two babies passed away. Musta spent five years in the, um, the facility up the road—the nervous hospital.
Whiskey: Yeh, well, ask me, the shrinks up there mighta cut her loose a tad early.
Sheriff: Guess you never know. I mean, she got herself a job waitressing and all that. She was a sad ol’ gal, but no sadder than the rest of us. Least that’s what we all thought.
Bobo: Thing I don’t get — why’d her crazy brothers kidnap all those babies?
The Paramedic straps Bobo to a gurney and adds:
Paramedic: I have a theory.
Sheriff (miffed): That there’s my sister’s kid—Dennis. Don’t pay him any mind. Boy’s a know-it-all.
Dennis: Think about it, Unc. Could be, those brothers were offering up babies to their sister hoping she’d bond with one of ‘em.
Dennis pushes the gurney into the ambulance.
Dennis: Like when ya introduce a new pet to the household. You know, when the old one’s croaked, got run over, or somethin’.
Sheriff: Shouldn’t you be gettin’ that clown boy to the hospital?
Bobo calls out from inside the ambulance.
Bobo (OS): Yeh. Let’s do that.
Dennis slams the door to the ambulance.
Dennis: Fine. Think what you will. ( turns to Whiskey) You comin’ with me, miss?
Whiskey: Yes, sir.
The Sheriff follows Whiskey to the passenger side of the ambulance.
Whiskey: Hey, uh, Sheriff, I’s just wonderin’, how’d you get here so quick?
The Sheriff opens the side door to the ambulance for Whiskey.
Sheriff: Well, dangdest thing, we hadn’t stopped a truck for speeding down the tote road we might never known ‘bout any this.
Whiskey: Huh.
Whiskey climbs inside the vehicle, settles, then rolls down the window.
Whiskey (to Sheriff): Those babies are gonna be okay, aren’t they?
Sheriff: Oh. Yes, ma’am. We’re gonna get ‘em all back to their mamas. Where they belong.
Whiskey: Thanks, Sheriff.
Sheriff (shakes head): Heh. You’re just about a hero, little girl. You and that clown.
The Sheriff pats the ambulance.
Sheriff: Giddyup, then. (to Dennis) Don’t go pesterin’ this girl with your theories, boy. Hear me?
The ambulance drives off.
INT. DIRTDOBBER RANCH - MAIN HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - NEXT DAY
Neva files nails on a sofa while Professor peers through a break in the curtains.
Professor: We’re surrounded. News hounds are barking at our gate.
Reese enters the room in a huff.
Reese: I can’t find her. Where is she? No excuses. Just tell me!
Neva sets her nail file aside, stands, steps to a rotary phone that’s off the hook. She replaces the receiver and the phone immediately RINGS!
Neva answers.
Neva: Yell-oo? (beat) My goodness. Governor? Why, hello!
Neva places her hand over the receiver.
Neva: It’s the Governor.
Reese: The Governor?! What in blazes does he want?
Neva: Seems the President is trying to reach Whiskey and I guess he’s been bugging the Governor about it.
Reese plops down in a chair.
Reese: The President?! Of the U.S. of A.?
Neva: Not him. The President of APRA*.
*American Professional Rodeo Association
Reese: Shit fire. This really IS serious.
Neva (in phone receiver): I’m so-so sorry, sir, but Miss Dickel is currently indisposed. (beat) Yes... I sure will... (beat) Uh huh. Bye now...(beat) Of course... Yes...By-ee.
The moment Neva replaces the receiver, the phone rings again.
Neva pulls the plug from the wall.
Reese: Neva if you don’t serve up that girl—
Professor: I understand that it’s still possible for people to just . . . vanish. Never to be seen again.
Neva: Well, ain’t that somethin’ to think about.
Reese: Alright, alright, what do you want?
Neva: Wouldn’t you know, I just happen to have a list of demands. (beat) Now, where did I put it?
Neva lifts a sofa cushion and uncovers a piece of paper—the list.
Neva: There it is.
She retrieves the paper and hands it to Reese.
Reese scans the list.
Reese: Maternity leave? A nanny? This is ridiculous.
Professor: Mr. D.B. Cooper. They never did find that man, did they?
Reese: Very funny.
Neva: Professor, would ya please tell the Press to skedaddle home. Miss Dickel is not...
Reese (relents): O-kay. Keep yer pants on. (grumbles) Whatever she wants. All of it.
Neva reaches inside a side table drawer, pulls out a walkie talkie.
Neva (on walkie talkie): Fish sees the bait.
Reese: Oh, that’s hilarious! Just keep rubbin’ it in. I’m giving you what you want, ain’t I?
A stern looking LAWYER strides into the room.
Reese: What now? Who the hell is this?
The Lawyer sets his briefcase on a coffee table and opens the snaps. He pulls out a hefty document and plops it down beside the briefcase. Then, he turns away pages on the document until he finds what he’s looking for.
Lawyer: Mr. Weise. (takes a pen from his briefcase and taps a signature line) Please sign here.
Reese takes a second to growl, then with a pinched face he snatches up the pen and begrudgingly signs.
The Lawyer turns away a few more pages. He points out three areas in the contract that need initials.
Lawyer: With initials here. (points) Here. (points) Aaand (points) here.
Reese: This is—this is some horseshit. S’what it is.
Reese scribbles in his initials.
The Lawyer snatches up the document and places it back inside his briefcase.
Lawyer: And that’s that.
The briefcase is snapped shut.
Neva (in walkie talkie): We snared a big one.
The Lawyer takes a moment to slightly smile at Reese and nod at both Neva and Professor before turning on his heels and quickly exiting the room.
INT. DIRTDOBBER RANCH - MAIN HOUSE - STAIRCASE
Whiskey gracefully descends the stairs wearing a star spangled, silk and frill cowgirl costume.
Whiskey stops mid-stairs as Neva, Reese and Professor enter the foyer.
Whiskey: Mr. Weise, you ready to meet the press?
Reese grunts, hesitates for a moment, then reaches out to take her hand.
Reese: You’re a little ballbuster, you are.
EXT. DIRTDOBBER RANCH - MAIN HOUSE
When Reese opens the front door for Whiskey, she’s met by a flurry of flashing lights, camera snaps and shouting reporters vying for attention.
INT. THE HOOCHIE HUT - EVENING
Under purple neon gloom, Bubba drunkenly exits the club fumbling for the keys to his truck.
Voice: Smiley!
Bubba recognizes the voice calling his name.
Bubba: Bobo?
Yup, it’s Bobo. Though he’s almost unrecognizable. He’s not wearing his trademark rodeo clown gear and make-up. Turns out, he’s a very handsome black man—in Western wear w/ his arm in a sling.
Bubba: I’ll be. You’re alive.
Bobo: No thanks to you.
Big Roy, Jimbo and Hank suddenly appear behind Bubba.
Big Roy grabs hold of Bubba and tosses him to the ground.
Hank joins in. Kicks Bubba in the gut.
Then Jimbo drops down on Bubba and brutally uses his face as a punching bag.
When the beating ends, Bubba spits out blood. And a tooth. With that, Bubba’s famous smile is ruined.
Jimbo tosses the tooth to Bobo.
Jimbo: We good now?
With only one available arm, Bobo manages to catch the tooth.
Bobo: That’ll do.
INT. DIRTDOBBER RANCH - MAIN HOUSE - LIVING ROOM
Toby sits on the floor, close to the television. He excitedly rocks back and forth. Professor and Neva, on the sofa, also watch. They’re all checking out Whiskey on the evening news.
ON SCREEN: Whiskey’s smiling, waving at the camera.
Toby: They’re gonna be one happy family, I bet.
Professor: What do you mean “they”, Tobias?
Toby: Bobo and Whiskey. They’re havin’ a baby. Didn’t you know that?
The Professor and Neva look at each other, in surprise.
Toby continues to joyously, nervously rock, his eyes glued to the broadcast.
INT. WES’ MAMA’S HOUSE — LIVING ROOM
Wes is watching the very same broadcast. He points at the TV screen while his MAMA places a blanket over his legs.
Wes’ Mama: You feelin’ any better, honey?
Wes: I know her, Mama. I know that girl. She stomped me good one time.
ON SCREEN: A CU of Whiskey.
Whiskey: Hey Daddy!
EXT. DICKEL RANCH - MAIN HOUSE - NIGHT
There’s a blue glow coming from the only window lit up in the house.
Whiskey (OS): I sure hope you’re watchin’ this.
INT. DICKEL RANCH - LIVING ROOM
Eyes locked on the television screen, Del sits up in his E-Z boy scooting aside the standing tray table holding his still wrapped TV Dinner.
ON SCREEN: Whiskey speaks into a reporter’s microphone, rubs her belly.
Whiskey: We love you, Daddy.
EXTREME CU of Del. His lips are trembling. A single tear streaming down his cheek.
THE END
100 Proof (extended script) is based on a story featured in the IMAGE COMICS graphic novel WHISKEY DICKEL, INT’L COWGIRL.
Whiskey Dickel, Int’l Cowgirl © Mark Scott Ricketts and Mike Hawthorne
100 Proof extended script © Mark Scott Ricketts
The studio called in Flannery O'Connor and Cormac McCarthy to finish scripting the screenplay draft, I see...
It sounds like Whiskey and Bobo will be good for each other. I'm hoping Del is weeping a tear of joy for his future grandbaby. Or I might just have grandbaby on the brain after a recent visit with my five month old granddaughter. 🤱