| This one page has the full transcript of all ten episodes of John From Cincinnati. I created it for myself to make searching for particular text or video segments easier. I thought others might benefit from it. The original transcripts with all credits, sound files, pictures, etc. are on CalamityDan.com | |
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JOHN FROM CINCINNATI
Transcription by Groggy (Imperial Beach,
California, near the Mexican boarder.
Early morning. An SUV,
headlights still on, pulls up and parks.
The driver, Linc Stark, gets out of the SUV and makes his way down to a
deserted and secluded stretch of beach.
A lone surfer is on the water.
Linc watches him. A younger man
appears behind Linc, seemingly from nowhere.) John: The end is near. Linc: Amen, my brother.
(A
small, scattered group of Mexicans scurry by in the brush behind them.)
Those
illegals act like it’s just another day at the beach. You know Mitch Yost? John:
Mitch Yost should get back in the
game. Linc: Couple of fun ones, eh, Mitch? John: You should get back in the game, Mitch Yost. Mitch: (to John) You should mind your own business. (to Linc) Go fuck yourself. (Mitch keeps on walking by.) Linc: (to John) In case you’re not crazy, I go back
20 years with this family. The deal
with the kid is in the works, so stay away.
Or whoever’s paying you better have you on a good health plan. (Cut to a
different beach and pier. Cissy Yost is up on the pier, overlooking a much
busier beach. She watches a surfer headed for the water) Cissy: (calling down) Sammy, Sammy! Tell Shaun he needs to stop by the shop. Sammy: Okay. Cissy: Don’t forget. Give
you a free bar of wax. (Cissy
leaves. After her departure, an
attractive young blonde woman crosses the pier from the opposite side of the
pier. She assumes, roughly, Cissy’s
vacated vantage point, and looks out on the water. Quickly enough she finds her focus: Shaun Yost…surfing.) (Cut back to the deserted beach, Linc has caught up with Mitch. They walk together.) Linc: I got nothing to do with that space cadet back there. I would never disrespect your retirement. Mitch: (having stepped on something) Godddamnit! A syringe.
Maybe it’s one of Butchie’s. Linc: What’s happened with Butchie is one of the biggest regrets
of my life. Mitch: Yeah, well, now he’s proven to the world he can fuck up just
fine without sponsorship. Linc: Am I going to see you at Huntington this afternoon? Mitch: Why would you see me at Huntington? Nobody’s seen me there in 20 years. Linc: Your grandson’s breaking his cherry. I just assumed you knew. Mitch: Well, I didn’t. And
if it’s for a competition, don’t assume you’re gonna see him, and for sure
don’t expect to get your fangs in his neck like you did in Butchie’s. Linc: He sent this to me. Mitch: (reads aloud) “Sponsor Me.” Fucking Butchie wants to get Shaun signed? Linc: Shaun sent it. Mitch: Jesus Christ! What? Linc: He’s 13, Mitch. Mitch: Yeah, you sign 8 year-olds. Linc: Look, this is gonna happen.
He wants to get signed, and he’s the real deal. And he’s a Yost. Trust the devil you know, Mitch. (Cut to
the Snug Harbor Motel. Meyer Dickstein and Ramon Gaviota exit the
office.) Ramon: So fast, after nothing so long. Dickstein: I know the WMD fiasco in Iraq is fresh in both our memories,
Ramon. Ramon: There were none. Dickstein: And I may be as wrong in my intelligence estimate as the CIA, but the man who just purchased this motel doesn’t strike me as the most pleasant person. (A man’s
voice: “Motherfucker!” Butchie Yost’s
van has pulled into the Snug Harbor’s parking lot and approaches Dickstein and
Ramon.) Ramon: Butchie probably better split. Dickstein: Certainly he can’t stay on present terms. Ramon: As a deadbeat? Dickstein: Say he paid you $200. Ramon: Like that’s gonna happen. Dickstein: We can tell the new owner we just discovered Butchie
squatting. Ramon: What about the six months worth of garbage in his room? Dickstein: Butchie Yost revolutionized surfing, Ramon. He changed the entire idea of it. Ramon: This place was supposed to stay vacant, and I think you’re a
little old for hero worship. Butchie: (exiting van) Ladies. Dickstein: Butchie, a moment. Butchie: Was the brigade out today? Dickstein: We were, yes. The
Association of Surfing Attorneys. Ramon: Butchie, the motel just sold. It’s out of receivership. Butchie: I have to take a horrendous dump, Ramon. And after that I want to hear every fucking
detail. Dickstein: This is very important. Ramon: Can I show you something? Dickstein: I settled Yost’s injury claim with the city yesterday,
Ramon. Ramon: When he passed out under the beach sweeper. Dickstein: He got $2300. Ramon: Yesterday. Dickstein: If that’s already gone, I’m good for the $200. (Dickstein
and Ramon are now standing before an enormous pile of junk.) Ramon: I’m gonna get the truck.
You put these on (gives Dickstein a pair of gloves), and we’ll
neaten up for the new owner. We’ll do
this fast. I’ll be back. (Cut to
Butchie in his room, we watch him preparing to shoot up.) (Cut to
Mitch at the beach at the back of his station wagon, Mitch dumps a gallon of
water over his head. Then, he notices
he’s levitating about four inches off the ground. He looks down, then looks
around, puzzled) (Cut to
John, off in the brush somewhere near the beach, hears a disembodied voice, and
looks up.) Vietnam
Joe: Hey, frat
boy. Drove down to T.J. to see the
donkey show, did you? Some dickhead
spike your drink? (emerging from the
thick brush) 50 bucks, I’ll drop
you anywhere within Imperial Beach.
Turn out your pockets. Turn out
your pockets. (John
does as he’s told, and something falls to the ground. Vietnam Joe picks it up.) 50 on the
nose. Let’s go before the Migra jumps
our shit. (grabbing John’s hand,
leading him toward the truck) Goddamn taco benders just ran past me like I was Homeland
Security. Too goddamn ignorant to
realize who wants to help them. John: Some things I know, and some things I don’t. Vietnam
Joe:
Spare me the babe-in-the-woods routine. You just paid to see a donkey fuck a woman. (Cut to
Butchie’s room. He’s on his cell
phone.) Butchie: No, I’m disappointed, Freddie, out here in California. I’m out this $2300. I got beat on the buy. Freddie, I cannot make myself believe that
that gland case and his fucking ice-cream truck had the balls to fucking screw
me on an ounce without your fucking say-so. (Outside,
Shaun Yost, with his surfboard under his arm, skateboards into the Snug Harbor
parking lot.) Dickstein: (calling) Young Mr. Yost! (to Ramon) Butchie’s son. He
shreds. Butchie’s parents have
custody. Probation situation, I took
care of it. (Shaun
knocks on Butchie’s door. “Goddamnit!”
from within.) (Inside
Butchie’s room.) Butchie: I’ll come back at you, Freddie. It’s not like I got too much downside. All right, and you better make it fucking right. (Butchie
snaps off his cell. The knocking on the
door continues.) Butchie: I’m not done with my dump yet, Ramon. Shaun: (from outside) It’s me, Dad. Butchie: (opening the door) Hey, Shaunie. How’s it going, buddy? Come on in.
Sorry about the fucking mess.
The grom that I paid to clean it up got hit by a fucking van. Shaun: How long ago? Butchie: Yeah…I gotta get a replacement, huh? What’s going on? How’s sixth grade? Shaun: It was good. Butchie: Yeah, you want something to drink? Tap water ain’t fatal. Shaun: I’m supposed to surf at an event at Huntington this
afternoon. Butchie:
(surprised) Your grandfather sign off on that? Shaun: Gram did. Butchie: That sounds more like it. Shaun: Think you might want to go? Butchie: No. Fuck. Not if you want them to let you on the
water. I’m fucking barred up there,
buddy. Shaun: From watching too? Butchie: What the fuck do I want to go up there for, Shaunie,
okay? Those things are fucking
bullshit. Shaun: Okay. Butchie: Not for you. You
know, okay, I mean, I don’t give a fuck if you want to. Shaun: Okay. Butchie: It’s not that I don’t give a fuck, okay? When did I ever tell you not to do something? It’s all I’m trying to say, okay? Shaun: Okay. Butchie: Everyone says you’re great.
You’ll probably fucking win the thing and get sponsored and all that
shit. Shaun: Anyways… Butchie:
Just don’t pull
your left nut out. Shaun: (as he leaves) Like you did your last event? Butchie: Yeah. It tends to
get you DQ-ed. (Shaun
Yost’s “Sponsor Me” video plays. Mitch
and Cissy are watching it at the surf shop.) Cissy: Butchie wasn’t that good when he was 13. Were you? Mitch: Did you take that footage? Cissy: Some. Some Shaunie
collected from his friends. He put it
together. Mitch: But you sent it to Linc. Cissy: I sent one to everyone Shaun thought might want to sponsor
him. Mitch: Including the bastard that helped turn Butchie into the
ditch-sleeping doper shitbird he is today? Cissy: Shaun doesn’t have to be Butchie. Mitch: Yeah, but you’re still you, aren’t you, Cissy? You entered Shaun in the contest today. Cissy: He entered. I signed
the forms as guardian. Shaun: Hi, Gram, Gramps. Mitch
and Cissy: Hey. Shaun: Sammy said you wanted me to stop by? Cissy: How’d that board feel? Shaun: It was good. Cissy: Not too stiff? We’re
worried about those rails. Kai: Hey, Shaun. Shaun: Hey, Kai. Kai: (to Mitch and Cissy)
Morning. Mitch: (to Shaun) Go in the back. (long
pause) Go in the back. Kai: Come on, let’s go in the back, Shaun. Shaun: I guess I’m supposed to be there by 11:00. (Shaun
and Kai go in the back.) Mitch: You are not taking him up to that contest today. And any permissions you’ve signed I’ll drive up there and rescind. I’ll rip up the waivers. I’ll bury any money-bitch-would-be sponsor
in a pit, starting with Linc-fucking-Stark.
What happened to Butchie is not happening to Shaun. Cissy: I understand. The
Kahuna has spoken. Mitch: And I got fucking cancer. Right here in my brain.
(Mitch
leaves. Shaun and Kai are playing
checkers in the back when Cissy joins them.) Cissy: Get to Bill’s house, Shaunie. Tell Bill I hoped he would drive you to your event. Shaun: Could you call him? Cissy: You know how he is about the phone. Here’s your accident liability waiver. I already mailed in your entry and your
fee. Don’t show it to Bill until you
get to the event. Otherwise, he’ll be
worried about it all the way up. Show
it to him when you get to Huntington, when you’re walking to the registration
table. But then you watch him give it
to them. Shaun: Okay, Gram. Cissy: ‘Cause they have to get it from an adult. Shaun: Okay. Cissy: Then, you just put your jersey on, and you paddle out and
you kick some ass. (In
Vietnam Joe’s truck, moving down the road.
John sticks his head out the window like a dog who loves the wind in his
face.) Vietnam
Joe: You comfy-cozy sweat-pea? Slip you a mickey and then forget to roll
you--typical beaner behavior. John: Some things I know, and some things I don’t. Vietnam
Joe: Tell me something you know. John: The end is near. Vietnam
Joe: Huh! Feel that way half the time myself. John: Mitch Yost should get back in the game. Vietnam
Joe: I don’t know Mitch Yost. John: I should have a good health plan, I see Mitch Yost again. Vietnam
Joe: Butchie Yost I know.
Flops in that shithouse on 7th. John: What do you want? Vietnam
Joe: What do you mean? John: Some things I know, and some things I don’t. Vietnam
Joe: I’ll drop you at Butchie’s. He may know where Mitch is.
Get you your health coverage.
Then I’m gonna role a fuckin' fat one. (Cut to
an interior, living room, Bill Jacks is standing in the middle of the room,
vacantly staring at his TV. Shaun
enters, letting himself in.) Shaun: How’s it going, Bill? Bill: How are you? They’re
running the Mexican wrestling. I’ll
tell you one thing, they’re overexposing these masked midgets. Shaun: Grams asked me to ask you if you wouldn’t mind driving me
today. Bill: No, no, no. Not at
all. Shaun: Don’t tell Gramps about any of it, okay, Bill? Bill: You know, my neck is killing me. Shaun: Your fibromyalgia? Bill: You making fun of me?
‘Cause that’s a written diagnosis by a VA physician. (Shaun,
nosing around one of Bill’s birdcages, discovers a bird, motionless and on its
back.) Shaun: What happened to Zippy?
(Bill
comes over.) Bill: Oh, my God. Shaun: Is Zippy dead? Bill: It’s all right. (wiping
a tear from his eye) This
happens. This is something you learn to
accept. Shaun: Zippy was a good bird. Bill: (sobbing) That’s right. That’s correct. When you’re older, you’ll understand. Shaun: Should we burry him?
(Bill
removes the lifeless bird from the cage.) Bill: That’s not for you.
You’ll have more than one occasion later. I got Twinkies around.
You want a Twinkie? Shaun: I can help, Bill.
Let me help. Bill: You don’t hold onto a bird once it’s passed. This is something that you learn. (Shaun
strokes Zippy. The bird squawks to
life, flutters up and away, then lands and perches on Bill‘s extended finger.) Bill: Jesus, Mary and Joseph! Shaun: He’s alive! Bill: Well, this is…this is something. Zip, we thought you croaked.
Gimme a kiss.
(Bill
raises Zippy to his face, and Zippy gives him an affectionate peck.) Give the
kid a kiss too. As long as you’re being
stupid. Shaun: Hey, Zippy! Bill: I’ll tell ya, I don’t know anymore if I’m on foot or on
horseback, or if a bird’s alive or dead. Shaun: He was dead, Bill. Bill: Obviously, he wasn’t.
When you’re older, you’ll understand. Shaun: I saw him. Bill: I’m losing my train of thought lately. Everything else, you’ll understand more when
you’re fully grown. Shaun: That is sick.
(Shaun
starts doing a head bob, imitating Zippy.) Bill: What are you doing?
You want to get fibromyalgia? Shaun: (still bobbing) It’s cool. (Cut to
the surf shop.) Kai: Christ, Moke ordered a fish. You kidding me? He’s
going to sink that friggin’ thing. Cissy: Why does what happened to Butchie make it fucked up to help
Shaunie do what any 13 year-old would want to?
He fucking forbids me to let Shaunie compete. Kai: I’m not Mitch’s wife, Cissy. Cissy: All the time you spend with Shaun…you know Butchie better
than anybody. Kai: Or Shaun’s guardian.
Or Butchie’s mother. Cissy: And he tells me he’s got a brain tumor. Kai: Mitch has got a brain tumor?
(A
strange look comes over Cissy’s face, as if a revelation is gestating.) Cissy: (to herself) Wouldn’t put it past him either, the
fucking jerk.(Cissy
puts her jacket on.) (Butchie’s
room. He’s jonesin‘. He has his phone to his ear and he hears,
“It beeped: leave me a message.”) Butchie: Yeah, I know what to do at the beep. Here’s your fucking message, Freddie. In one more fucking hour, someone hasn’t
shown up to get me right, you get hit in Hawaii by a law enforcement tsunami,
and your ice-cream man goes over a cliff in his fucking truck. (Outside,
in the Snug Harbor parking lot, the truck is fully loaded.) Ramon: Looks like we got a full load. You’re really good at this.(Dickstein,
in the back of the pickup truck, jumps down and hands Ramon his gloves.) Dickstein: I have office business, Ramon. Have to go home and wash up before I conduct it. The new owner takes possession at 3:00. Mr. Cunningham. I’ll be back then. Ramon: Don’t forget. Bring
the $200 with you. Dickstein: Here’s another one who has to change his ways. Ramon: Vietnam Joe. Dickstein: The Snug Harbor’s closed as a stop on his underground
railroad. Ramon: That guy doesn’t fit Joe’s profile. Vietnam
Joe:
The Three Stooges.
I could eat a bowl of soup off of either of your heads. Which room in this palace is Butchie Yost’s?
Ramon: If he was here, he’d be in F. Vietnam
Joe: (turning to John) Okay, you go over there.
(showing John how to knock) You
knock on the door. Show me. Yeah.
You’re on your own.
(Vietnam
Joe takes the cap off John’s head as John gets out of the truck.) Dickstein: Ramon wants to talk to you, Joe.
(Vietnam
Joe drives off.) Dickstein: (pointing at John moving toward Butchie’s door) Try to keep that short. (Butchie’s
room. Knocking.) John: (from outside) What do you want, Butchie Yost? (Butchie
spies out the peephole and sees John.) Butchie: (speaking through the door)
I want to
see some dope coming out of your pockets.
Or my $2300. (John produces a wad of cash from his pocket.
Butchie opens the door, moves out quickly and looks suspiciously
around.) Here I
am. Eyes to see the sunset loaded. And
just flew off the handle with your people.
What a fucking jerk. Let’s go
call the ice-cream man and tell him I’m sorry. (Outside
Mitch’s Clubhouse in the Yost’s back yard.
Cissy approaches with determination.) Cissy: I’m coming in, Mitch!
(ascending the outer stairs) The
Grand Poohbah’s Inner Sanctum! Holy
father, great Tao. Fucking Dalai Lama.
(She enters.) Mitch: I’m hallucinating. Cissy: You been getting high? Mitch: No. It wasn’t a
hallucination. It’s not like acid. Cissy: You just said you were hallucinating. Mitch: I used the wrong word. Cissy: So, what’s the right word?
Your sinuses are plugged? ‘Cause
that does point straight at brain cancer. Mitch: In the lot, after I surfed, I…I was up in the air…is how it
felt. Cissy: Half the time with ear infections, I get dizzy like
that. Go to see a doctor. Mitch: If I’ve got a tumor, I don’t want their machines getting
ahold of me. Cissy: Welcome to the rest of our fucking lives! You surf when no one can see you…me
especially. Rest of the day you’re in
your clubhouse. Next week or next year,
we’ll get the call: Butchie’s dead in
some fucking dumpster. But the breaking
news today: Shaun doesn’t get out
either. ‘Cause Big Mitch fucking
forbids it. Because 20 years ago his
knee got a boo-boo. Mitch: A boo-boo…they nearly amputated. Cissy: Suppose you do have a tumor. Suppose you’re fucking dying.
How are you gonna kill the time before you check out? What about the healing power of sex? (Cut to Butchie’s
room.) Butchie: Right. (closes
his cell phone) You give me $2300
and the ice-cream man says he doesn’t know you. Empty your pockets, bro, so we don’t start not getting
along. All right, show me something
with your name on it. (John pulls
out his pockets and produces a credit card.) These
fucking platinum cards got that rocket fuel, don’t they, John? Vroom, vroom! John:
Vroom! Butchie: What were you up to, John, just before you came to see
me? Was there a little bit of (faux
toking) the wacky-tabacky involved?
(John imitates Butchie’s faux toke.)Does that ring a bell? John: Does it ring a bell? Butchie: Where I’m going, John, is are you fucked up at the present
moment? Speed, freon, tire sealer, the
little green chunks from the kitty litter? John:
Doesn’t ring a bell. Butchie: Who I am rings a bell, right, John? You know I am Butchie Yost. John: Butchie Yost rings a bell! Butchie: All right, John, we’ll work with what we got. Now my conclusion, not confusing myself with
Sherlock Holmes, is A: you’re a little shy; B: you just broke your piggy bank
or you have a few dollars in the family; and C: you’re here to surf with the
beast. (Butchie
points at a surfing poster of himself on the wall.) John: I am here to surf with the beast! Butchie: Butchie the Beast Yost--bringing him out of semi-retirement. John: Bring Butchie out of semi-retirement. Butchie: You fucking learn from the best, fuck the rest, and doing that costs top dollar! John: Top dollar rings a bell. Butchie: (leaning in close, almost whispering in John’s ear) It wouldn’t be the first time, John, that worried parents
were part of the story. How about
worried doctors? John: Worried doctors aren’t part of the story. Butchie: Or worried parents? John: Worried parents don’t ring a bell, Butchie.
(Apparently
satisfied enough with John’s responses about parents and doctors, Butchie
resumes moving about the room.) Butchie: Of course, parts of my story you don’t know either,
John. I mean, I’m no open book to
you. Whatever bullshit you read in
those magazines. Here’s what we’re
gonna do. We’re gonna take each other
at face value, John, and get to know each other better as we go along. Now, money’s gonna have to change hands
between us, John. You’re gonna be
spending some of that cash. You got
expenses, fees. I need to know that
you’re down for that. John: I’m down for that. Butchie: Let me hear it John, how big you’re fucking down for it. John: I hear it big, Butchie. Butchie: John and his cash and his plastic are down with Butchie the
Beast! John: I’m down! (John hits his knees, drops to all fours and
bows his head.) Butchie: Don’t do that, John.
Don’t--(Butchie lowers himself to his knees.) Okay, let’s
pick up our credit card. And let’s be
adult around our possessions. (Cut to
Mitch’s Clubhouse. Cissy and Mitch are
in bed together.) Mitch: Was Shaun really disappointed when you told him he couldn’t
go? Cissy: He never shows what he’s feeling. Mitch: Yeah, he plays it pretty close to the vest. I think that’s good. Maybe we should get a camera. Just to show it’s not…if I feel it happening
again…going up in the air. Cissy: I get it. I’ll pick
you one up at Jenco.
(Mitch
reaches over to touch Cissy, but she rolls away and gets out of bed. Mitch sits up himself, then dangles his legs
over the edge of the bed, letting his feet hover inches above the floor.) (Cut to
the surf shop. John and Butchie enter.) Butchie: I’ hope you’re doodling, ‘cause I know you can’t write. Kai: Urgent care’s down the street. Butchie: Say hi to John, Kai. Kai: Hi, John. John: Hi, Kai. Butchie: My student and main man.
We want an outfit nose to tail. (Butchie
slaps the platinum card on the counter.) Full-goddamn-pop
of every wetsuit and surfboard we fucking-A decide to buy, right, John? John: Fucking-A, right! Butchie: Full fucking quiver.
Special attention to the board shaped by the little lady here, meaning
she will benefit from that rocket propellant in your fucking platinum card. Kai: Maybe he just wants to start with one. Butchie: Hey, check out those boards, John. Examine ‘em closely while Kai and I have a talk. Every surfer
needs a backup. Dos minimum. John: Dos minimum. Butchie: Wouldn’t this be a day to write home about if I wasn’t
homeless and disowned? I finally get
that fucking injury settlement, and I fucking invest in a lid, and that fucking Samoan sells me
quinine. Kai: Too bad you don’t have malaria. Butchie: What the fuck is that suppose to mean? Kai: Where did you come up with him? Butchie: He came up with me.
He knocked on my fucking door.
John Monad. Kai: Sounds French.
(John is
running his finger along the edges of surfboards and sneaking peeks at Kai.) Butchie: What, the Dragon Lady call in sick? ‘Cause she isn’t. She’s taking Shaunie to Huntington. Kai: Is that right? Butchie: Or maybe you already knew. Kai: Shaun wanted to enter, Butchie. He’s been working on a “Sponsor Me” video for months. Butchie: Why don’t you just enter him in a jerk-off competition,
‘cause he’s been working his Johnson in the bathroom? Kai: I didn’t enter him. Butchie: Well, you didn’t tell me when I walked in here. Kai: It’s your family. Butchie: She signs your paycheck. Kai: You haven’t seen Shaun in six months, Butchie. Butchie: You have no fucking clue, Kai, how much time we spend together. Kai: Yeah, right. He’s a
liar. Butchie: Hey, fuck you, Kai!
I try to throw you some fucking business, and you put my balls in a vice? Kai: You know, I don’t need you to throw me any business. Butchie: Okay, sorry to fucking bother you. Give my love to my mom.
Come on, John. John: Bye, Kai. (Butchie leads John out by the hand. Kai waves at John.) (Outside
the surf shop as John and Butchie exit.) Butchie: God, who does she think she fucking is? John: She’s Kai, Butchie. Butchie: I signed over custody so I wouldn’t louse that kid up. Fucking had to, to get fucking
probation. Where is my fucking phone? John: Some things I know, and some things I don’t. Butchie: I don’t suppose you have a phone, John, do you? John:
Some things I know, and some things I don’t. Butchie: Jesus Fucking Christ!
You know, every time you wanna say, “Some things I know, and some things I don’t,”
just say, “I don’t know, Butchie, “ instead.
John: I don’t know, Butchie, instead.
(Butchie
starts patting John down, searching for a phone. Doesn‘t take him long to find one.) Butchie: (punching numbers into the phone) I
wanna see where my old fucking man is in all this shit. Where’s Mitch, the Holy Man Yost? John: I like Kai. Butchie: Yeah, you would, John.
I’m beginning to see that about you.
You probably can bone her if you try hard enough. John: I’ll bone her. Butchie: Yeah. Might want to
have to bust her jaw first so she’d shut the fuck up. (Mitch picks up the phone in his Clubhouse.) Mitch: Hello. Butchie:
Congratulations on
being a gutless fucking cunt. Mitch: What the fuck is that suppose to mean? Butchie: It means you’re a selfish fucking cocksucker, that’s
what! What, you’re tired of no one
asking you, so you go ahead and okay for him? Mitch: Maybe you wanna tell me what the fuck you’re talking about. Butchie:
Shaun in
Huntington. Mitch: He’s not going. Butchie: He’s there then with you?
What’s that, Dad, I can’t hear? Mitch: Well, I’ve forbidden it.
Your mother will see that he doesn’t go. Butchie: Mother? Did you say,
mother will see? That’s a good one,
Pop. ’Cause I got news for you. Mother will see to it that he does go. And then you won’t have a fucking clue until
the deal is done. But that’s gonna be
okay with you, isn’t it? Mother does
the dirty spadework, while fucking Shaun wins a few dirty competitions. And more dirty money starts flowing into
Mitch’s fucking ashram. Mitch: Yeah, don’t forget the dirty needles, Butchie. How about that other dirty business you’re
not in? Of being a fucking father to
your son. So your mother and I had to
wind up taking legal custody. I oughta
drive down to that shitbox you live in and kick your fucking ass! Butchie: You could fucking try, Dad. Mitch: I’m on my way, Son. Butchie: Don’t forget to lube up your bone-on-bone knee, you fucking
goat! Mitch:
Don’t forget to shoot up some courage. Butchie: Fuck you! (Hangs up phone.) What a dick! I think he’s actually gonna come. Goddamn. I gotta get high. I gotta get good and fucking high. So I can kick that cocksucker’s fucking ass. John: Fucking high, I gotta get high. I gotta get high, man. (Butchie takes John by the hand and begins leading him to the van.) Butchie:
Are you
from someplace cold, John? John: I don’t know, Butchie, instead. Butchie: I bet if you’re from someplace cold, John, that your mom
clipped your mittens to your fucking coat. (Butchie gets John in the van.) You
want to meet a happy family, watch Saturday morning cartoons, John.
Meet the fucking Jetsons! John: Meet the fucking Jetsons! Butchie: (getting behind the wheel)
Hey, you
wanna see my old man get his ass kicked?
Just take a ride with me, pal. (Cut to Jenco,
a huge all-purpose store. Cissy pushes
her cart along. She stops to ask
assistance from a stock boy who is stacking a display of toilet paper.) Cissy: I’m looking for an instamatic. Gary: Would you consider a diabetic, if hardworking and handsome? Cissy: An instamatic camera, (looking at his nametag) Gary. Gary: We don’t have them. Cissy: You don’t? Gary: No. No instamatics. I’m fully acquainted with our inventory,
Ma’am. We don’t. We no longer carry instamatics. We have digital cameras , and we have
disposables. And those are all in aisle
74. (Cissy
takes a few swipes at Gary’s meticulously stacked toilet paper display. Rolls of toilet paper fly and fall to the
floor.) Gary: Okay, those nearly hit me. Cissy: No, those nearly didn’t. (Cut to Bill
Jacks and Shaun in Bill's truck. They are in heavy traffic.
Light turns green and Bill doesn’t move. A horn honks.) Bill: Up your ass! Up your
nose with a rubber hose. (Another horn honking.) Yeah, Fuck you. (to Shaun) Excuse me, I lost my temper. (At
Jenco. Cissy’s in the checkout
line. Gary and somebody from Security
approach.) Security: Step out of the line please, Ma’am. Cissy: Why? Security: Please, step out of the line. Cissy: You fucking idiot with your tin badge and your stupid
goatee. Security: (Speaking into radio)
427. Cissy: Oh, we’re up to a 427 now?
You going for the mace and tasers?
Security: Please step out to the line. Gary: (to gathering customers) These checkout lines are closed, folks. They’ll help you over here. Thanks a lot. Cissy: This guy made a half-assed pass at me. Gary: I’m a diabetic. I
did no such thing. Security: Come with me, Ma’am. (Security tries to grab Cissy’s arm,
but she shakes free.) Cissy: Just get your hands off me. Security: Ma’am, Ma’am. Cissy: Hey, get your hands off me! Security: Ma’am, please. (Cut to Snug
Harbor parking lot, a car is pulling in) Ramon: Maybe we should have had one of those flower necklaces for
him. Dickstein: It’s called a lei.
It may come to that.
(Barry
Cunningham gets out of his car. He
approaches Dickstein and Ramon. Close-up
shot of an automatic pistol on his hip, Ramon and Dickstein stop short and look
at the gun) The Snug
Harbor’s new owner, Mr. Cunningham, Ramon. Barry: (shaking Ramon's hand) Tanto gusto, Ramon. Ramon: Mucho gusto. Barry:
If Attorney Dickstein has been discreet, it will now
surprise you to learn, Ramon, that I’m a winner of the Mega-Millions Lottery. Ramon: Whoa.
Congratulations. Barry: I disclose this to explain that (tapping the gun on his
hip) I am armed in accordance with the State Lottery Commission’s pamphlet,
“The Challenge of Sudden Wealth” which urges that winners be cautious in the
conduct of their business affairs. Ramon: Sensible. Barry: In any case, after a 20 years interlude in Azusa, I’m
returned to Imperial Beach. Dickstein: I told Ramon that you intend to keep him on. Barry: In fact, Ramon, you won’t continue as manager. I told Attorney Dickstein that I’d be
keeping you on salary. Dickstein: Naturally, I’d assumed-- Barry: I’m going to level this place. Ramon: I have many cousins that can help level, and my cousin,
Margarita, works for the Department of Permits. (Butchie’s van pulls into
the lot.) Dickstein: Level it? Barry: Level it. Ah, I will
not be surprised, nor judge harshly, Ramon, to learn that you’ve supplemented
your stipend from the court taking in guests off the Libros. Dickstein: That guest is my responsibility, Mr. Cunningham. Barry: A relative down on his luck? Dickstein: I surf a little. He
was a great surfer. And, yes, he was
down on his luck. Butchie: (John is having trouble with the VW's door) Pull the handle, push the door, John. Dickstein: He did pay $200 for staying here a couple of days, which
Ramon insisted on. Ramon: Yeah, he was a spokesman for that tequila, Butchie. Barry: Butchie. (On the
other side of his van, Butchie plops John’s ass down.) Butchie: Sit down and stay right here. John: I’m gonna roll me a fucking fat one. Butchie: Full fucking quiver, right, John, huh? John: I don’t know, Butchie, instead. Better have a good fucking health plan, you see Mitch Yost again. (Meanwhile,
back on the other side of the parking lot.) Dickstein: Butchie Yost, he changed surfing. Barry: Butchie Yost? (Other
side of the van.) John: The deal with the kid’s in the works. (Cut to Bill
Jacks and Shaun still stuck in heavy traffic.
There’s a loud, “Pop!”) Bill: Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ!
This is a blowout. This is a
puncture of the left front tire. (Horns,
horns, horns are sounding. Bill Jacks
stops in traffic.) (In the
parking lot at Jenco, Cissy is being escorted to a police car by two
patrolmen.) Cissy: This is all fucked up, man.
My grandson’s got a surfing contest.
My husband and I are suppose to take him. Mitch Yost, the wonderful surfer from before the talkies. Patrolman: Does that make you Butchie Yost’s mother? Cissy: Is that a crime now, too? Patrolman: (insistently assisting Cissy into the back seat of the
car) Watch your head. Cissy: What the fuck does it even mean? (Back at
the Snug Harbor. Mitch’s station wagon
pulls in.) Butchie: Stay out of this, John.
Stay back. John: The end is near.
(Mitch
is out of his car, and he and Butchie
head for each other. They square off
jaw-to-jaw, chest-to-chest.) Butchie: Right here, you ancient fuck. Now’s your shot. Mitch: Yeah, let me give you today’s excuse for shooting up. Butchie: Come on, bring it, you fuck! (Back to
Bill Jacks and Shaun in the truck. The
siren sounds here as well.) Bill: Nothing to be ashamed of at any age, to be afraid to change
a tire in traffic. I swear, we’ll get
you to your event. (Shaun
looks out the window as the police car, siren sounding, passes. It’s the car that’s transporting Cissy.) Shaun: The pigs got Grandma. Bill: Have I told you not to use that word? I’m gonna pull it over here. Probably completely obliterate the rim. Shaun: This is my dad's motel. (Cut to
the Police Station. Mitch, Butchie,
Shaun, John, Bill Jacks and Dickstein are all there…waiting in the lobby.) Bill: It’s disorderly conduct, for God’s sake. Cop1: She’s gotta be run for warrants. Bill: It’s a citation and release. Cop1: (aside, to his colleague)
Expedite the
warrant search. Let’s get this senile
bastard out of here. Bill:
What is that
little back and forth? Cop2: I’m behind the desk how, Bill. And I’m asking you to sit down. Bill: How about I don’t sit down?
How about I make your circulars current? (pointing at wanted posters and whatnot on the bulletin
board) How about that? Because they’re a disgrace. Here’s one.
Hernandez--robbery and car theft.
I swear to God the guy changed my oil two days ago. (Mitch
and Dickstein, standing side by side.) Dickstein: It’s an honor to be in the company of a surfing legend. Mitch: Thank you. Dickstein: We lost you too soon to your knee. Mitch: I get around all right. Dickstein: And your son also, to his many difficulties. Mitch: Well, you see him breathing there. Dickstein: Competitively, I meant, we've lost him. Mitch: Does that about get it all said? Dickstein: Except for my thanks for the pleasure you gave me as a
spectator. Mitch: You’re welcome. (Butchie
and Shaun, sitting on the floor, backs against the wall.) Butchie: So, I guess you missed your event. Shaun: Are you proud of me? (First Butchie stands, then Shaun.) Butchie: No, I said I didn’t want to go, Shaunie. Shaun: ‘Cause it’s so lame? Butchie: Which isn’t saying you should be missing shit. Shaun: Anyways… (Shaun walks over to John.) Shaun: How’s it going? (John and Shaun start doing the foot
tracing thing again.) Dickstein: I’ll just say one more thing. (not paying attention as Mitch walks away) Trestles, 1979. To see you surf was all I wanted for my bar
mitzvah. Bill: You’re a fifth fucking wheel around here, Dickstein. Dickstein: You feel they’d want me to make a statement? Bill: I’ll make a statement if need be. I’m the department retiree.
And I have the weapon-- Dickstein: Please don’t speak of any weapon. Bill: Your assignment is to keep my truck from being disassembled
by marauding lowlifes and to make sure that that fruit gets home. Dickstein: He has a car of his own. Bill: Hybrid, which the marauders won’t bother, and if the fruit’s
allowed at the wheel of, is liable to drive off a bridge. For God’s sake, Dickstein, only one hand can
be at the helm. Dickstein: Please tell everyone I left. Bill: (as Dickstein exits)
Like anybody
gives a fuck. (Mitch and Butchie are against the wall.)
Mitch: If I ask, is Shaunie gonna tell me that Bill was taking me
to Huntington? Butchie: Well, he’s not much of a liar. Mitch: Well, I guess that’s between me and your mother. (Cut to Cissy’s
jail cell.) Cissy: (to her cellmate) I went bullshit at Jenco. Cissy: I don’t speak Spanish, honey. (Cop2 comes to release Cissy from her cell. As Cissy takes her leave, she looks back at her cellmate and tightens her grip on whatever it is that’s in her hand.)
(Back
out in the lobby. Shaun and John are
doing “spin moves” with Bill Jacks, Mitch and Butchie looking on.) Butchie: He must read some old fucking magazines. He signed up to be my student and told me
you should get back in the game. Mitch: Yeah, he told me the same thing at the beach this morning. Butchie: He’s harmless…and fucking rich. (Mitch
nods to Butchie, and they edge off to a vacant room off the lobby. Bill Jacks notices and follows. Ears wide open, he takes up a position by the
open door of the room.) Mitch: I just found out I’m pretty sick. That’s why I was short-fused when you fucking called. Butchie: I got beat on some dope.
I’m dopesick, Dad, is what I’m trying to say. Gonna be. I mean, that’s
why I was cranky on the phone. Mitch: Am I up in the air right now? Butchie: What do you mean? Mitch: Are my feet off the ground? Butchie: No. Mitch: You don’t even fucking look? Butchie: What do I have to look for, Dad? You’re not off the fucking ground. Mitch: That’s the tumor’s big symptom-- Butchie: Feeling like they’re up in the air? So, it’s in your brain. Jesus Christ, I’m sorry. When did they do the tests? Mitch: What difference does it make? Butchie: Does Mom know? Mitch: Oh, yeah. I had to
tell her this morning. Butchie: Fuck, I…I’m sorry I broke your balls. That’s the last fucking thing you needed. Butchie: You’re up. Mitch: It feels like I am. Butchie: You are. You’re off
the ground, Dad. You’re like 2 ½ inches in the fucking air. Mitch: Feels like more. (Mitch slowly drops back down until his
feet are on the floor again.) Butchie: Well, if that’s a tumor, where do I sign up? (Bill
Jacks abandons his eavesdropping post, and wanders over to Shaun and John. Shortly thereafter, Mitch and Butchie come
back out into the lobby.) Bill: (to John) What’s your name? John: My name is John. Shaun: He’s my friend. John: I’m his friend. Bill: Well, friend of Shaun, I got my eye on you. John: I got my eye on you. Bill: No, I got my eye on you! John: No, I got my eye on you! (Bill looks at Shaun. Shaun shrugs. Cissy is being led out by Cop2.) Cop2: Ho... ho—(he rushes to open an office gate) Cissy: I’ll watch my own head.
(to Mitch who’s approaching her)
Are you preferring charges, too? Mitch: We gotta get wet. (Cut to
Barry Cunningham’s large, empty beach condo.
Spectacular ocean view through a veritable wall of picture windows. Barry is sitting cross-legged on the floor
in the middle of the room. There’s an
open bottle of wine at his side. A
teddy bear too.) Dickstein: Do you have another gun, Mr. Cunningham? Barry: I did not buy a backup, against the advice of Pete’s Pistol
Hut. Dickstein: Do you feel at the moment you may otherwise be a danger to
yourself? Barry: No, I do not feel at this moment that I’m otherwise a danger
to myself. Dickstein: Do you surf? Barry: (smiling wryly) I do not surf. Dickstein: You should try it sometime.
It’s fun. Well, I hope I’ll see
you tomorrow. (The
beach, near sunset. Butchie and John,
preparing to surf, are off at a distance from Mitch, Cissy and Shaun.) Butchie: I gotta ask you, John.
We’re gonna be friends no matter what, okay? Could you have fibbed as far as your skill level? John: I could have fibbed. Butchie: For example, John, is it possible that you’ve never been on
a board? John: It’s possible, Butchie. Butchie: We cannot fold on dry land right now, okay? So, when we’re outside, you’re gonna get a
leg cramp, then we’re gonna turn around and paddle back in. How does that sound to you, John? John: That sounds, Butchie. Butchie: Jesus Christ. Jesus
Fucking Christ. (Back
down the beach a ways to Mitch, Cissy and Shaun.) Shaun: Can I go out with Dad and John now? Mitch: Yeah, go ahead. (Shaun goes to join John and Butchie.) John: Oh, my fucking leg. Butchie: You gotta grab your leg, John. You gotta sell it. Shaun: (arriving) Can you help me out, Dad? Butchie: (adjusting Shaun’s wetsuit)
Yeah. You ready, Shaunie? Shaun: You ready, John? Butchie: Hell yeah, John’s ready! John: Hell yeah, I’m ready, Shaun! Butchie: All right, student, do as the teacher does. One step fucking behind me. (John holds
out his hand.)No, no, no. No hands,
John. Come on. Grab your board. (John starts backing down to the water, imitating Butchie‘s
backward trek.)No, no, no. (As Butchie turns, John turns to face the water.) Johnny, there you go. (Back down the beach.) Cissy: Just when you think he’s run out of dufuses. Mitch: So, Bill says he can’t remember when he got that flat if he
was taking Shaun to that surf contest. Cissy: He was. I asked him
to. Mitch: After I forbade it. Cissy: Maybe this is the time to admit that we don’t have the
perfect marriage. Mitch: (chuckling) Maybe it’s time to say I don’t have
a brain tumor. Cissy: What do you got? Mitch: Surfer’s ear, like you thought. (Shaun, John, and Butchie, paddling out.) Butchie: You’d never mistake him for a beginner, would you? Shaun: Nuh-uh. Butchie: You’re not paddling like a monkey on crack over there, John. John: I’m not a monkey on crack. (On the
beach.) Mitch: (to Bill Jacks who’s found the
beach) You all right there, Bill? Bill: (holding an imaginary phone to his ear) Waiting to hear from Dickstein. Did he get my truck towed?
Did he transport that suicidal fruit?
Waiting to find out. (to
self) May as well be speaking
Russian. (Barry’s
condo. Barry, still sitting on the
floor, is looking out on the ocean.) Barry: Do you surf, Teddy? (Barry manipulates the teddy bear,
first moving the arms in paddling motions, then standing the bear up and moving
it from side to side as if it’s surfing.
Then, abruptly, he flips the teddy bear over.) Teddy, you wiped out. (Back on
the water.) John: (holding his thigh) Oh, my fucking leg. Butchie: Just rest a minute, John.
It’ll pass. John: I gotta sell it. Butchie: Go ahead, Shaun.
Take one in while John’s cramp passes. (Shaun
paddles for a wave, finds his footing, then rides the wave spectacularly in.) Cissy: (shouting from the shore)
Shaunie
Yost!!! (Back on
the water.) Butchie: I just need to catch my breath. We’ll paddle back in in a second. (John starts paddling to
catch a wave.) No, no, no. Whoa,
whoa! Wait, wait! John, John! (John rides the wave in with
nearly the skill, the style and the flair just exhibited by Shaun.) Somebody
call an ambulance! Johnny Monad just
put that wave in the ICU! (On the
beach.) Mitch: I don’t think I’m gonna do it. Cissy: Surf, you mean?
Before us fallen earthlings? John: (paddling presciently back out, looking at Cissy on the beach) Tomorrow’s
another day. Cissy: Tomorrow’s another day. (Bill
Jacks watching John on the water.) Bill: (to himself) This kid’s smart-aleck friend gets a
stem-to-stern checkout tomorrow. I can guarantee you that much. (mimicking) “I got my eye on you.”
(pointing out at John on the water)
Well, I got my eye on you,
pal. Believe you me. John: (surfing in and looking at Bill) I got my eye on you, Bill! (Butchie
catches a wave. Cissy is smiling on the
beach. Shaun, John and
Butchie…surfing! Something like joy.) (The
attractive young blonde woman who was on the pier earlier, is lurking nearby
again. She punches a text message into
her phone, then sends it. She moves a
bit closer to the beach, peers out and sees, same as earlier, what she’s
looking for: Shaun Yost, riding a wave.
She smiles. Linc Stark --
chances are at Huntington -- responds to his ringing phone. He finds a text message. It reads:
“Shaun Yost is in Imperial Beach.”) |
|
JOHN FROM CINCINATI (Episode 2)
Transcription By Groggy (assisted by Coco)
(Imperial
Beach. Morning. Cass, the attractive young blonde woman, is
lurking again. Today, however, Shaun
isn’t the one she‘s spying. Today it’s
Mitch. From the beach, Cass watches him
perform his morning ritual. She watches
him surf. She watches him walk the
board from back to front, then front to back as the surf roils about his feet. This morning though, Mitch is not alone on
the water. Kai is out there too. Mitch comes out of the water.) Kai: (calling from her board as she rides one in) Hey, old man! (wading
through the backwash of the surf near the beach) I didn’t realize I was this far down. I kept catching those really long rights. Mitch: Keep doing that, and you’ll end up in Rosarita. Kai: Hey, I didn’t mean to intrude. Mitch: It’s a long walk back.
My car is here if you want a ride.
(Mitch and Kai start walking toward his wagon. Cass is waiting to intercept them.) You
should watch your feet. I stepped on a
syringe here yesterday. Kai: Welcome to the sloughs. Who’s that chick? Is she a fan of yours? Mitch: All my fans are in retirement homes. Cass: (approaching) Mitch Yost, you probably don’t
remember me, but I met you once. Pipe
Masters. I was 15. And I got to tell you, I had a big
crush. My name is Cass. Kai: (to herself) Give me a fucking break. Mitch: I didn’t notice, huh? Cass: I was still knock-kneed with braces. Mitch: Well, everything changes. Cass: Yeah, I make movies now. Kai: Uh, thanks anyway, Pop.
I’m gonna walk and get some air. Mitch: All right, Kai. Kai: Nice car, chick. Mitch: (checking out Cass’s Porsche) These
are hard to find. Cass: I like vintage, what can I say? So, I’m doing this film called “Legends.” (handing Mitch her card) I would love to shoot you for it. I know this really isn’t your kind of
thing. But you know my name…and you’ve
got my number. Just think about it. Mitch: Okay. (Cass gets in her Porsche and drives away. Mitch goes to the back of his vintage
wagon. He drops his mat on the ground,
then pours his daily gallon of water over his head.) (Cut to Bill Jacks at home. He’s on the phone.) Bill: (answering question)
Bill
Jacks. Why’d I hang up? I got tired of being held on hold. Good thing I’m not being robbed here. I’m looking into a nut-job…ascertain if he’s
wanted or missing. I got his prints
here. I want them lifted. Why am I calling ahead? Well, Anderson, that’s to avoid standing
there like a mope with my hat in my hand someplace I worked 16 years while my
request is walked through channels.
What are the prints on? You ask
me that, I think maybe you haven’t tried the water fountain this morning. Because, being the nut-job drank from the
station house fountain yesterday, Anderson, his prints are on the fucking
handle which I am in the fucking possession of. Hey, you know what? Fuck
you, where you gonna drink? Try the
fucking toilet! And while you’re in
there, go fuck yourself! But what you
really ought to be doing is updating the goddamn bulletin board! (Bill Jacks
slams the phone down!) Preparation for the celebration of the millennium
was a goddamn disgrace. (lowering
himself into a chair) 16 fucking
years. (Cut to
Butchie’s room at the Snug Harbor.
Butchie’s in bed, and John is on a mattress on the floor. Butchie is just waking up, John appears to
already be awake.) Butchie: How did you sleep? John: How did you sleep? Butchie: I slept, you know.
You know, (getting up and
heading for the bathroom) I do know
that I’m not feeling dopesick right now. (John follows Butchie into the
bathroom.) What are you doing? You
gotta take a horrendous dump too?
‘Cause I gotta take a horrendous dump, pal. John:
I gotta take a horrendous dump. Butchie: Fuck. Firsties on
the can. I got the face. (Butchie shakes a coin in a cup and
spills it to decide who dumps first.
[NOTE: not entirely clear how Butchie determined who got to dump
first]) Damn! But make it
quick. All right? (helping John) Drop your pants, ass on that seat, baby, and push. I gots to go. (exiting, then pacing outside the bathroom) Come on. (Sitting on the crapper with
the door wide open, John stares cluelessly up at Butchie.) Oh, shit. Are you shy about doing your business, John? John: I’m shy about doing my business. Butchie: Shit, I haven’t seen you dump or take a leak since you got
here. Do you want me to step outside? John: I don’t know, Butchie, instead. Butchie: Hey, we all have our quirks and wrinkles, pal. It is all good. (Butchie steps outside.) (Cut to
the Yost home. Shaun is sitting at a
table looking at his laptop screen.) Shaun: Jo Jo got through his heat. Cissy: (sighs) Shaunie. Shaun: Anyways… (We see Linc lurking outside the kitchen door,
Cissy finally spots him, Cissy moves toward him.) Linc: (calling through the door)
Shaunie
Yost! I got your demo. Man, it rocks. (to Cissy) It’s
about Shaun and the event at Huntington.
Give me two minutes to tell you what I can do. Cissy: Well, hurry up. (opening
the door) Mitch will be home any
minute. (Cut to
the Snug Harbor. Butchie is waiting
anxiously outside Room F. He sees Ramon
crossing the Snug’s parking lot with a couple of bags of groceries.) Butchie: What’s shaking, Ramon? Ramon: Dickstein said the new owner’s coming over. Butchie: Strapped like he was yesterday? Ramon: Should be relevant to you, since you’re supposed to be gone
now. (Butchie
goes back inside.) Butchie: You dumped out yet, John? John: I’m dumped out. Butchie: Stand up and pull your pants up. This kid’s turn on the crapper.
(John pulls his pants up as he stands.) There you go. Come on.
(urging John out of the bathroom as John fumbles with his
zipper) Do that outside. I gotta go.
(pulling out a chair for John)
Here. Park it right here, my
man. Good. Well done. (Back in the bathroom, Butchie drops his pants and
takes a seat.) A-plus on the fume control, pal. Radio silence until further notification! (grunting as his fist clenches) This is a dump that a grown man can be
proud of! (Cut to
the Yost home. Cissy, Linc and Shaun
sit around a table. Mitch enters.) Mitch: What the hell are you doing here? Cissy: You need to hear him, Mitch. Linc: Shaun is back in at Huntington. Mitch: You muscled him in?
Yeah, that’s the way it goes, Shaunie.
You miss your heat…as long as you can hear the money talk, you got no
problem. You just sign up with the man,
get the sponsor’s push, win yourself a Hummer. Cissy: Just this once, Mitch, think what Shaun wants. Linc: (to Shaun) You know, I was a grom just like you
once, always in the water. Totally
stoked 24/7. I felt like I was tapping
into something bigger. And I’ll tell
you, a lot of people can paddle out there and get that rush, but to be able to
give them a taste of it just by watching, no, that’s something different. And I never had that. Not like you…and your dad…and your
grandpa. But I could see that people
would pay to see those who could do it. And I made some money. And I made some mistakes. Your dad, Butchie, was one of them. I was young, and he was changing the
sport. All I could see was that him
being a bad boy was good for business.
I thought the image was the thing.
What I see now, what it’s taken me years to see, is the thing
itself--that’s the thing. And I don’t
have to show them any more than that. Mitch: To get them to buy the thing that you want to sell them. Linc: Well, what if I’m selling them the thing for itself? Cissy: I think you’re a fucking saint. Linc: Well, I got all the money I need, Cissy. Mitch: Yeah, well, that makes it a little easier. Linc: It’s the way some of us need it. Does that rule me off the team? Shaun: I’d like to compete. I like it. Linc: If you feel me going off with Shaun, just tell me. I would be grateful to hear it. Mitch: (mulling, mulling, mulling)
No image. Linc: Just him…and some really great waves. Mitch: (To Shaun) So, Huntington’s a crossed-up swell. What do you think? You want to try a new
stick? Shaun: I might try it. (Cissy comes over and hugs Shaun.) (Cut to
John and Butchie, walking out on the pier.) Butchie: A day like this, John, if you can get the dealer’s ass out
of bed, the pier’s a nice place to cop a fix. John: Let’s get the dealer’s ass out of bed, Butchie. Butchie: We’re not here to score, my brother, although I can’t say
why I’m not getting dopesick. (John
and Butchie happen upon Vietnam Joe, who‘s fishing off the pier.) Vietnam
Joe: Found your man, eh, frat boy? John:
Comfy-cozy, sweet pea. Butchie: How didn’t I figure you two know each other? Vietnam
Joe: We don’t. I
drove him over to your place yesterday.
I never got high overseas like I needed to get after that ride. Butchie: (calling to John as he begins to wander down the pier) Did you come in through the sloughs, John? And don’t go over the railing. John: I came in through the sloughs, and I won’t go over the
railing, Butchie. Butchie: Is that where you picked him up? Vietnam
Joe: You think he may be a Mexican? Butchie: I’m trying to get a line on him, Joe. Vietnam
Joe: Why do you think I needed to fire up that fatty? (John,
looking out on the water through an observation telescope, seems to be hearing
Butchie’s whispering voice, as if John can “hear” what Butchie is
thinking:
“My old man levitated. I’m not feeling sick. John, what the hell is going on? John, you can be honest with me, man, tell
me what’s going on. John, tell me what
the fuck’s going on!” [NOTE: subject to interpretation]) Butchie: (from behind) What are you looking at out there,
John? What do you see? John: What do you want, Butchie? Butchie: Come on, pal, we’ll figure it all out. (as John and Butchie pass Vietnam Joe on
their way off the pier) Joe, smoke
another fatty, baby. (Cut to
Ramon and Dickstein in the Snug Harbor office.) Ramon: So, he said to meet here in the office? Dickstein: Specifically, inside the office. Seemed in good spirits when he called. Ramon: Yesterday too until he pulled out his gat. (Barry enters the office, a couple bags
in his hands.) Barry: Buenos dias, Ramon. Ramon: Buenos dias. Barry: And a hearty shalom, Attorney Dickstein. (lifting the bags in his hands to draw
attention to them) Hot from the
Panaderia. Empanadas, churros, coffee. Dickstein: Oh, thank you. Barry: (to Ramon) I see you drink tea. Ramon: Si, "anti-dioxin". Barry: Also, I bear news that the motel will not be leveled. Ramon: Is that so? Barry: It is so, Ramon. I
had a vision, gentlemen. Ramon: Is that how you got the number for the jackpot? Barry: In fact, Ramon, yes.
I often get visions after my seizures.
Eventful days like yesterday do tend to bring them on. Teddy and I had quite the siege. Ramon: The next drawing is on Tuesday. I looked it up. Barry: No, no numbers in last night’s vision, Ramon. I am called, among other things, to learn to
surf. Dickstein: I have the perfect board for you to learn on. Ramon: Ain’t you glad now you didn’t blow your brains out
yesterday? (Freddy,
Butchie’s dealer, appears in the office doorway.) Dickstein: Motel is closed.
Change of ownership. Freddy: Butchie…Yost. Ramon: He went out, Butchie. He’s in
number F. You could leave it on the
door if you want to leave a message. Freddy: I’ll give it to him when he shows up. Barry: (pulling a pastry phallus out of the one of the bags) Oh, pastry while you wait? (Freddy leaves.) Why raise
a building for what its walls have seen?
Why not imagine its shuttered saloon as some homier place of
entertainment? Renovate the guest
rooms, upgrade, liberate them. Why not
Room 24? (Barry goes over to the
pegboard on which room keys hang and liberates a key.) Excuse me. (Barry
leaves the office.) Ramon: It’s his joint. (looking
out at Freddy, hanging by his car in the parking lot) He looks like the Bowser guy from Sha-Na-Na. (Inside
Room 24. Complete darkness. The sound of the door unlocking.) Barry: (whispering outside)
It’s
okay. (with the door slowly
opening) It’s okay. It’s okay.
(With the door wide open, Barry looks in. He gasps!) No, no, no, no. (He flees.) (Cut to
Bill Jacks at home. He’s in his living
room Birds squawk. There’s a knocking at the door.) Bill: Yeah. Shaun: (from outside) It’s Shaun, Bill. Bill: Hey, Shaun, come on in.
Give me a hand here. I’m just
about to clean up these cages. Shaun: Guess what? Bill: You found a dinosaur egg. Shaun: I’m back in the contest. Bill: Is that so? Shaun: That contest at Huntington I missed yesterday. This guy is getting me back in. My heat’s in two hours. Bill: Jesus, that doesn’t leave us much-- Shaun: My gramma and grampa are taking me. Bill: Is that so? Shaun: This guy talked to them.
We left Dad a message. Maybe
he’ll come too. Bill: Good, fine. Shaun: You want to go up there with us? My gram and gramps are right outside. Bill: Right outside?
Jesus, Shaun, no. I can’t. (escorting Shaun to and out the
door) This is a family outing. This is…this is a family thing. I can’t go.
Now, you go ahead. Cissy: (in the wagon) Bill’s not coming. Mitch: Well, there’s that. Bill: (calling out from the doorway to Mitch and Cissy) Thanks, anyway. I’ll
cheer him on from down here. Cissy: That’s all right, Bill, we understand. Bill: I’ve gotta get after the accumulation. They’re crap machines. My birds, they’re crap machines. Mitch: Ahh… Bill: You do good, Shaunie.
Drive safe. (Shaun gets in the wagon, Mitch starts it up, and the
wagon pulls away. Bill goes back in the
house. He stands in the middle of the
living room.) Good for
them. Maybe Shaun’s ne’er-do-well
father and his jerkoff sidekick will go up there too. Wouldn’t that would be nice. (Cut to
Cass in her parked Porsche. She’s
talking on the phone to Linc, who‘s parked on the opposite side of the street
in his SUV.) Linc: She’s like the kid’s second mother. I can’t believe she saw you hit on Mitch
this morning. Cass: You know, Linc, I actually do make films. Linc: That’s the trick.
That’s what you’re supposed to make her think you’re here for. Cass: Arguably, it is what I’m doing here. Linc: Is it…arguably? Cass: I’ll see you at Huntington. Linc: Yeah, you’ll see me, but you won’t fucking talk to me. Cass: Yeah, and for Christmas I was thinking I could either run
you over in the street or enroll you in a Tony Robbins seminar. (Cut to
the surf shop. Kai is leaving Butchie a
message on his voice mail.) Kai: Butchie, hey. I
guess you and young Einstein are out.
Anyway, so Cissy called and she must have spiked Mitch’s wheat
germ. He’s letting Shaun surf in the
contest at Huntington. I bet Shaun
would like it if you went up there. (The bell on the surf shop door
rings. Cass enters the otherwise
customer-bereft shop.) I’m not going.
I’m hip deep in customers here. (harshly
whispering into the phone) Huntington,
shit-for-brains. (turning her
attention to Cass) Did you get
Mitch in your Porsche? You show him how
the gear box worked? Cass: I make movies. I
want to make one about Mitch. It’s
obvious that he respects you a lot, although it’s not as obvious as you and I
getting off on the wrong foot this morning. Kai: No sale, chick.
Mitch’s wife just called--Cissy.
Shaun’s in an event at Huntington.
First time Mitch ever let him enter. Cass: Well, maybe I’ll go. Kai: Yeah, maybe I’ll go too. (As Cass is leaving) You know, that family’s got enough of their
own problems, but can’t we all still do our little parts to make them worse? (Cut to
Mitch, Cissy and Shaun on the road in the wagon. Silence. They all though
seem somehow reflective and positive about the trip. Subtle smiles of one sort or another inform each of their faces.) (Cut to
Bill Jacks at home.) Bill: I’ll tell you something, and I’m not a frightened person by
nature--but I’m afraid here suddenly.
I’m feeling a real…genuine frightened feeling . Something’s behind me or whatever the hell
might be going on. I’m afraid here to
even turn around and look. Isn’t that
something, Zip? Brother, is that you,
Lois? Is that you, Honey? I wish she’d come to me. She used to come to me in dreams. (Cut to
the office at the Snug Harbor.) Barry: The motel is haunted.
At least Room 24 is haunted. Dickstein: You had mentioned you had an unpleasant experience there. Barry: It was all one in my mind.
Time flies when you’re having fun.
Mega-millions are not the broom to sweep Room 24 clean. Must I say for me? Isn’t “for me” understood? Ramon:
You’re getting a little hard to follow. Barry: Not for Gilbert Rollins.
He can do it dead. Dickstein: Well, you’re with us now. Ramon: You don’t have to go in that room no more. Dickstein: Fuck Room 24. (Barry rises from his chair, comes over and
hugs Ramon) Barry: Thank you. Thank
you. Ramon: (Carefully pushing Barry back) No, it’s okay. It’s okay. Barry: I woke up this morning happy. I mistook that freedom for power. Ramon: Ghost showed you what
was what. Barry: Yes. Yes,
Ramon. Our visions are powerless
against our pasts. Happiness is
helpless in passing. (Barry looks
heavenward, then clasps his hands together and bows his head in prayer. A little uncomfortably, Ramon and Dickstein
bow their heads as well.) Please, God, help me live. I forgive Gilbert Rollins. I forgive Butchie Yost. Thank you for my friends. Dickstein: Amen. Ramon: (making the sign of the cross) Amen. Barry: Amen. (Cut to
Butchie and John in a liquor store.
Marco, the stone-faced man behind the counter, stands there with his
arms folded across his chest. John
eyeballs three nearly life-sized cardboard cut-outs of Budweiser Bikini
Babes. Imitating their phony similes,
John smiles back at them with a smile every bit as fake as theirs.) Butchie: You don’t think that’s going through, Marco, because he’s
hanging with Butchie. And if he’s hanging with Butchie, he ain’t
juiced. He’s juiced. I’m hanging with a man of means. This is my brother from another mother--from
the side of the family with some cheese!
And if that doesn’t go through, (slapping his pocket) this will. And that ain’t my cock.
You’re in for a big surprise, Marco.
(The credit card machine hums, then starts sputtering its
approval. Butchie’s arms shoot up in
the air. He spins around and points at
the cardboard cuties.) That’s right, that’s right, ladies! The line forms to the left to blow me! John: The line forms to Butchie’s left. Butchie: (focusing his attention back on Marco) Okay, just to see how much fuel we have in this rocket, I will take half the--no, I will take the whole row of “Chival Regis.” (Cut to
Mitch, Cissy and Shaun in the wagon.) Shaun: Could we try my dad again? Cissy: Sure we can. Shaun: Can I call him? Mitch:
Then why don’t we get out of the car and bang our heads on
that lamppost until the light changes? (Cut to
John and Butchie walking on the sidewalk.
John’s carrying a bag containing, presumably, the Chivas in one arm, and one of the cardboard cuties under the
other. Butchie has one of the cut-outs
under each arm.) Butchie: Do not fall in love with these cardboard models, John. Papercuts to the penis--very painful. (blocking John’s way as he starts to step
into the busy street) Wait ’til
the--no, no, no, no. Jesus, John! What the fuck! Okay, follow my lead. (crossing
the street) I say this from the
bottom of my heart, brother, and with all the love, but I’m picking up you
don’t do too well with traffic, do you? John: I don’t do too well with traffic. Butchie: Which leads me to believe…(crossing again) come on, come on, come on…quick, follow
me…leads me to believe that you’re not from around here. John: I’m not from around here, Butchie. Butchie: Oh, yeah, no? Or any
other metropolis for that matter. I’m
feeling kind of, you know, small town, not a farm town, but a small town, a
small town like, you know, I’m feeling a little Cincinnati. John: I am from Cincinnati. Butchie: Get the fuck out! John: You get the fuck out! Butchie: Get the fuck out!
The housing brain unit’s open 24 hours, baby. (Cut to
Linc on the beach at Huntington. He’s
talking to Dolan, the father of one of the other surfers that he sponsors.) Dolan: This is bullshit. My
kid earned his spot in this round. What
is this? Linc: What this is, Mr. Dolan, is your son’s main sponsor, who is
about to send him and you on a mag trip to Sumatra, is saying Tommy had to take
one for the team. Dolan: Yeah, okay, team is one thing. But Butchie Yost’s kid is something else. Linc: You’re not gonna let me be polite? You do not get a vote about Shaunie Yost. You get to vote on whether or not you pass
on Sumatra. (Cut to
the surfer’s tent. Surfers are
preparing for the competition: waxing their boards, doing stretching exercises,
donning their jerseys, relaxing or getting pumped with their iPods and
earbuds. There’s a lot of subtle and
not-so-subtle posing and posturing going on.
Giggling groupies peek in. As
inconspicuously as possible, Shaun drinks it all in. Surfing prodigy on not, he’s new to all this. A surfer leaving the tent trips or is
tripped. Groaning, he rolls over in the
sand. He holds his foot. There’s about a three inch gash running
along the inner side of his instep. He glares.) (Cut to
the beach. A horn sounds. The surfers race for the water. “That’s the
horn for the Junior Finals,” the P.A. announcer says. “Remember, it’s 30 minutes for each surfer. The three highest scoring waves count.” The surfers hit the water and paddle out.
The competition‘s on! “First to surf is
yellow. Nice turn over the top.” Shaun gets in the game. “That’s Shaun Yost picking one up on the
outside.” Several riders go for the
same wave. “Looks like a party wave out
there.” Two surfers almost
collide. “Oh, yeah, that could be
interference on red.” Shaun picks
another wave. It’s a good one with a
curling peak. Shaun crouches low and
eases back into the pipe. He virtually
disappears from sight as, riding the wave out spectacularly, he sends the wave
to the ICU.) (On to
the beach.) Kai: Whoooo! Yeah,
Shaunie! (Further
down the beach.) Linc: (to Dolan) Your kid sticks one like that, you
come back and piss in my ear. (Dolan slinks away.) (Up on
the pier.) Cissy: He’s got it won.
Right? Hands down. Mitch: Unless they’re completely fucking blind.
(Cut to
the Snug Harbor office. John and
Butchie approach the motel, their Chivas and cardboard cuties in tow.) Ramon: (looking out on the parking lot at Butchie and the waiting
Freddy) Here we go. Butchie: (singing) “I wake up I could throw one down tonight. Get off your girl, John Monad.” Freddy: (approaching Butchie)
What the
fuck! Butchie: Whoa, whoa. Wait
here, John. Wait here. Hey, Freddy, did I get teleported to fucking
Hawaii or-- (Freddy punches Butchie
in the mouth, sending Butchie to the ground.) (sputtering) Motherfucker. Freddy: What’s that you say, Butchie? Huh? You’re gonna drown me in a cop tsunami? Or whatever faggot threat you left on my machine. Butchie: That call was a mistake.
Freddy: No that call was a fucking favor to me. It reminded me of what a fuckup you turned
into, instead of who I watched surf Rocky Point. Butchie: I was pissed off you beat me on the fucking buy. Freddy: You got no business buying a lid of smack. Butchie: I got a fucking injury settlement.
I was looking to make a move.
It’s not like I got many left. Freddy: Fuck your sad story, Butchie. You’d have OD-ed and died before you sold your third bag. (noticing John) What are you looking at, big eyes?
You want some of that? John: I want some. Freddy: Yeah? (Freddy comes forward and slaps John hard. John’s head turns with the blow, but there
otherwise seems to be little effect.
Freddy takes a couple steps back and looks curiously at John.) Butchie: Freddy, he ain’t all there. Freddy: Yeah, well, now he’s there even less. Butchie: (getting off the ground) Don’t fucking hit him anymore. (The ground starts rumbling. A car alarm goes off.) An earthquake, John. It happens all the time. John: What do you want, Butchie Yost? Dickstein:
(bracing himself
in the office doorway where he’s been watching the show outside) You’ll remember that to expedite the closing you had me
waive all inspections. Barry: I absolve you if the walls tumble down. (Cut to
Bill Jacks at home.) Bill: (whispering) Oh, boy. Oh, what the hell is going on now? (He goes to the phone and
dials.) Anderson, hey, Bill Jacks.
Hey, did you guys feel a temblor over there just now? No, because I felt like I just felt a
temblor. Alright, Anderson. (Cut to
the beach at Huntington. The earth is
flexing here as well. Linc, looking at
Cass who is stationed behind her camera, mockingly assumes a surfer’s stance in
response to what seems to be but a minor seismic shift. Shaun, still out on the water, grabs a
wave.) Kai: (calling out) Big fucking earthquaker, Shaunie! Cissy: Wave of the day, and the judges are doing the boogaloo,
’cause of a little fucking earthquake. (The
wave Shaun is riding surges up and knocks him from his board.) Kai: You had it won already, bro. Cissy: I think they missed it. Mitch: Well, if they didn’t miss the entire heat, he’s fine. (An emergency vehicle is racing down the beach. Kai is scanning the water for a sign of Shaun, but he’s nowhere to be seen.) Kai: He’s not up! (moving
toward the water) He’s not up! He never came up! Mitch: Shit. (Mitch and Cissy begin sprinting down the
pier. Shaun still isn’t up. Finally we see that he’s floating face down
in the water.) (Cut to
Bill Jacks at home, we see the bird swinging on his perch.) Bill: Look at you swinging, Zip. It was a temblor. (chuckling) Seems minor. Minor temblor.
And the old man’s still got his marbles. (Bill sits down on the floor
and turns the television on.). (Cut to
the Snug Harbor office. The phone rings.
Ramon answers it.) Ramon: We’re closed! (In the
parking lot.) Freddy:
Instead of what you want to see, see
what the fuck is in front of you. It’s how you get 17 safe deposits. Fuck you
surfing Rocky Point! Fuck watching you from my fucking porch! Ramon: (Walking over from the office with a
phone in his hand) Excuse
me, sorry to interrupt. Phone call, for Butchie. (Butchie takes the phone
from Ramon and puts it to his ear.) Butchie:
Yeah? Mitch: You piece of shit! What’s with
you’re fucking phone? Butchie:
The battery died. Mitch: Yeah, what a shock. Ramon: (to John and Freddy) Uh, no hurry. Whenever he’s done-- (pointing toward the
office) Phone, just-- Butchie:
Is that what you
called to talk to me about, my fucking phone? Mitch: Shaunie broke his neck at
Huntington. Butchie:
Is he gonna be all
right? Mitch: He broke his neck! They’re
airlifting him to Mercy Hospital. Of course if you gave any kind of shit, I
wouldn’t have to be telling you this, cause you would’ve been here. Butchie:
What the fuck you
talking about, he’s at Huntington. Nobody fucking told me dick. Mitch: Your battery’s dead, Butchie. Butchie:
What, you couldn’t
drive four fucking blocks out of your way to come down here and tell me? Mitch: Why, Butchie, because you’ve never
been anywhere for anybody? Why waste the gas? Butchie:
So what are you
saying Dad? Is he gonna die? Mitch: Go ahead out for pizza. I can leave
word with the manager. <click>
(Butchie throws the phone violently to the ground. It smashes to pieces.) Freddy: What’s going on? Butchie: Come on, John, we’re gonna to take
a ride. Garage door Tijuana, Freddy, to cop. And you better not try to stop me
unless you’re ready to fucking kill me. Look, my kid got hurt. He broke his
neck. I can’t handle this straight. Freddy: I’m holding. Get in the car. Butchie:
Go get the dope and
bring it back to me. Freddy: Get in the car or I’ll shoot you,
him and the three guys in the fucking office. John: What do you want, Butchie? Butchie:
I didn’t drop a
dime on you, Freddy, if you’re thinking about killing me in that car. Freddy: Go ahead, go. (In the
office, Ramon and Dickstein are watching the drama) Dickstein:
Well they seem to
have worked it out Ramon: His father said his son had an
accident. Butchie. (Cut to
Freddy‘s car. Butchie‘s in the front
seat with Freddy, and John is in the back seat. He‘s mimicking Freddy‘s driving, working an imaginary steering
wheel.) Freddy: They make these fucking cars for
midgets. I hate coming to this fucking country. Sunset Beach, the kid you used to put on your back and paddling
out, uh, for him to watch from the channel--that’s the one broke his neck, now? Butchie:
It’s the only one I
know I got, Freddy. Freddy: Some fucked up shit. I thought of
that on the way to the airport this morning. Butchie:
That is some fucked-up
shit. Freddy: Then ‘til now I hadn’t thought of it
fucking once. (looking in the rearview mirror) That mope in the backseat keeps changing fucking shapes. (spotting a horde of reporters outside the hospital) Who the fuck are they? I want you going in here, Butchie, and I
want you to act like a fucking man. The business between us, we’ll deal with
later. Butchie:
Well, you didn’t
get me high, but you didn’t kill me either. Freddy: Just shut the fuck up and get
out. And take this shape changing mope
with you. (looking in the review mirror again) I ain’t afraid of you, pal. John:
(pointing
his finger) I ain’t afraid of you Freddy: I don’t give a fuck what you are. John: I ain’t afraid of you, pal. Freddy: I took more acid (stuttering) than
you ate cheerios for fucking breakfast…in a volcano! The fucking Hallaka-halama-vaka
fucking thing. Butchie:
Haleakala, Freddy!
If you moved your seat back you wouldn’t look like such a fucking monkey. Freddy: Get out before I blow both your
fucking heads off. Butchie:
Thanks for not
killing me. (opening the back door
for John) Come on. (dodging
intrusive cameras) Motherfucking
press. Come here. Freddy: (muttering) Leave the fucking door open. Fucking
seatbelt. (Cut to
Bill Jacks at home. He’s trying to snooze
on the floor. A woman’s voice on the
television rouses him however. “I’d
doubt the connection with the minor area temblors we’ve been reporting, Bob,
have had much to do with this,” the female field reporter says. “All we know at this point is that the young
surfer broke his neck while competing at Huntington Beach and has been listed
in grave condition at Mercy Hospital.”
Bill is wide awake and sitting up now
His mouth is agape.) Bill: That could be Shaun. Who are they
discussing? (“And this
is the famous surfing Yost family?” Bob, the anchorman asks the female reporter
in the field.) Bill: Where is he? What’s
his condition for Christ’s sake? Oh my
god! (dialing the phone) Don’t yell at me! Don’t yell at me! Don’t yell at me! Don’t
yell at me! Don’t yell at me! Don’t yell at me! Don’t yell at me!
Anderson! Anderson for god’s sake don’t hang up on me! Please help me
find an injured friend! (Cut to
Mercy Hospital. A hallway. Kai is there. Cass is talking to a nurse.
Linc arrives by way of the stairs.)
Cass: (writing on a small pad of paper) I
won’t intrude on them, but if there’s anything they need--the family, errands
or whatever the hospital doesn’t provide, I’m available to do that day or
night. (The nurse nods. She takes
the pad and leaves. Linc peruses some
pictures on the wall, doing his best ignore Cass, to pretend he doesn‘t know
her.) (Cut to
a waiting room. Mitch and Cissy are
sitting in the room. Shaun’s doctor,
Dr. Michael Smith, is seated facing them.) Dr.
Smith: Well. Okay, I have some terrible news to share with you. Shaun has suffered devastating injuries. (Cissy
gasps.) The vertebrae at the base
of his skull was crushed when he fell, and that left him paralyzed and unable
to breathe. A machine is breathing for
him now, but the time he was without oxygen, underwater and later, did
catastrophic damage. Our tests show
that there is no electrical activity in Shaun’s brain. Mitch: So, you’re saying he’s brain-dead. You’re saying there’s nothing you can do. Dr.
Smith: I’m sorry, but I think that’s the
case. We’ll run our test again in the
morning, but I don’t expect to see a change. Mitch: Why put him through the tests then? Dr.
Smith: We have to be absolutely certain of
Shaun’s condition and prognosis before later decisions can be made. Mitch: Yeah, but you’re absolutely certain now. Dr.
Smith: A protocol is developed in these
situations. Mitch: Your protocol’s more important than his suffering? Dr.
Smith: To take a patient off life support,
possibly making his organs available for transplant, those aren’t cliffs you
can re-climb. (Cissy gets up and, turning her back on the men, moves away.) Mitch: Why don’t you leave the cliffs out of it? Dr.
Smith: I understand that you’re suffering
terribly. If it’s any consolation, I
assure you your grandson is not. Mitch: When it suits your protocols, we take you at your word. When it suits your protocols before we can
take you at your word, you get to crucify him with another 12 hours of tests. Dr.
Smith: Mrs. Yost, do you have anything you
want to ask me? Cissy: (struggling to speak)
No, Doctor,
go away. Dr.
Smith: (rising) I’ll
be with Shaun. (Dr. Smith leaves.) Cissy: You take Shaunie off that machine, Mitch, you better never
get in our bed again. Mitch: Did you hear anything that asshole said? Cissy: He needs it to breathe.
He stays on the machine. I will
murder you in your sleep. Mitch: Shaunie is brain-dead, Cissy. Cissy: He’s breathing and I can hold him. Mitch: Well, get a dog. He’s dead.
I want him off the machines. Cissy: You want to get back to your clubhouse, go ahead. Get out you coward! Get out and leave me alone with my
grandson. You’re afraid of the
hospital, not me. I got used to it, all
the months I spent listening to the asshole I married whine about killing
himself ‘cause his knee was gone. He
couldn’t be king of the waves. Mitch
Yost, the big realist. “Let’s face it,
Cissy, he’s gone. Let’s just put him in
the ground.” Mitch: Well, when the time comes, why don’t you just sign whatever
papers it is that they need you to sign. (Mitch leaves the room. Kai’s still in the hallway.) Kai: Should I go in? Mitch: I don’t know. (The elevator door opens. John and Butchie step out.) Butchie: Did he die? Mitch: (brushing past Butchie as he leaves) Your mother will explain it. Butchie: (to Kai) Did he die? Kai: No. Cissy is in
there. (Butchie transfers John‘s
hand to Kai‘s, as if transferring John’s care to her, then enters the waiting
room.) Kai: How’s it going? John: Did you dump out this morning? Kai: Uh-huh. You need to
dump out? Okay. Come on. (She leads him off towards the
men’s room) (In the
waiting room.) Cissy: He was going for a little cover-up on the inside. The water
sucked out. Butchie: Was he doing good before he ate it? Cissy: He had it won. Butchie: Can we go see him? (Cut to
the Men’s room. John stands in the center of the room staring at the two
stalls. A man comes in and enters one
of the stalls. On cue, John enters the
other one. He drops his pants and takes
a seat.) (Cut to
the nurse’s station outside Shaun’s room.
Cissy and Butchie approach Dr. Smith.) Cissy: This is my son, Mitchell Jr., Shaun’s father. Dr.
Smith: How do you do? Butchie: Can we go in? Dr.
Smith: Please. (Butchie and Cissy enter
Shaun’s room and approach the bed slowly.
A nurse is in the room reading a monitor.) Butchie: (whispering to the nurse)
Is it okay
if I touch him? (The nurse
nods. Butchie strokes Shaun’s hair.) Cissy: They asked about donating Shaun’s organs. Butchie: He gave his stick away that time to that one-legged kook kid
at Trestles. (Cissy leaves.) Nurse at
the Monitor: I surf. You were great. (Cut to
Bill Jacks plodding up a stairwell. He
pauses briefly on the landing, then continues climbing upward.In the background
we hear a bird squawk) (Cut to
John in his stall, still taking his cues from his neighbor next door. The man grunts. John grunts. The man
ventures a flatulence-rich offering to the porcelain gods, and John
approximates the sound by blowing a rattling
raspberry. The man unrolls some
toilet paper, and John makes a “globledogobledo” sound, the closest,
apparently, he can come imitating a toilet paper roller in a public restroom
being put to use.) (Cut to
Bill Jacks still laboriously trudging up the stairs. He’s using the railings on either side of the stairwell now. He stops to catch his breath.) (Cut to
the hallway near the elevators. Kai is
still around. So are Linc and Cass,
backs to each other.) Kai: (to Cass) You know, I could introduce you to
him if you want, or you could just keep pretending you don’t know each other. Linc: Hi, I’m Linc Stark. Cass: Hi. Linc: (aside to Cass) Get with Mitch. Cass: (moving toward the elevator) Uh,
can you hold that, please? (Bill
Jacks, finally, emerges from the stairwell.
Breathing heavily and holding his jacket closed, he moves slowly down
the hallway. Kai and Linc and Dr.
Smith all give him puzzled looks. Bill
stops again to catch his breath. His
hand flutters over his chest.) Bill: Like my heart’s beating in a cartoon. Dr.
Smith: Are you here to see Shaun? Bill: Yes, I am. (Cissy comes out of Shaun’s room.) (to
Cissy) Can I see him? (Cissy
nods.) Cissy: (to Dr. Smith) I don’t have to decide now about the
organs, right? I’d still have the
twelve hours to change my mind? (Bill
enters Shaun‘s room. Butchie comes to
meet him. He puts his hand on Bill’s
shoulder.) Butchie: You’ve been more father to him than I was. (Butchie
leaves. Bill move’s closer to Shaun’s
bed. The nurse at the monitor and Bill
look at each other. The nurse leaves.) (Cut to
the men’s room. John’s dump-mate exits
his stall, so John exits--or attempts to exit his. John’s door hits the other guy as he’s crossing over to the
sinks.) Dump-mate: Excuse me. John: Excuse me. (John follows the man to the sinks. He imitates every move the guy makes while
washing his hands. After shaking his
hands over the sink, the man leaves, giving John a wary glance before he
goes. John is left, post shake,
standing there with his hands still wet.
He looks around, then he appears to see something above him and stares
up to the ceiling.) (Cut to
Shaun’s room. Bill opens his coat a
bit. Zippy flutters out and finds his
familiar perch on Bill‘s finger.) Bill: Okay, Zip. Now,
don’t hold back on me, pal. (In the
hallway. John comes up to Kai.) John: Just took a dump a grown man would be proud of. Kai: Attaboy. John: A-plus for fume control, Butchie. Kai: A-plus, John. John: (looking back over his shoulder at Linc)
The end is near. (In
Shaun’s room. Bill moves Zippy closer
to Shaun.) Bill: That’s it, Zip.
That’s it. (closing his eyes
and touching his temple) And kiss
Shaunie too, as long as we’re being stupid. (Zippy
bobs his head near Shaun’s face, then gives the boy an affectionate peck on the
lips. Shaun’s eyes open!) Bill: Jesus, Mary and Joseph! (Zippy
squawks.) |
|
John From Cincinnati
(Open at the hospital with everyone in place from episode 2. Butchie, Cissy and Dr Smith are standing by the nurses station talking as Bill slowly exits Shaun’s room. Bill is side-stepping around the group when he speaks.) Bill: He’s much improved, Shaun, he’s well. (Smith turns
and hurries into the room) I had Zippy kiss him. Thought I’d take a shot. (Smith is in Shaun’s room and finds him with his eyes open) Smith:
Hi Shaun. My name’s Dr Smith. You
got hurt a few hours ago surfing. Um… I’m going to ask you to do a few things
for me OK? If you understand me just
blink once for yes and twice for no. Do
you understand me? Shaun: (one blink) Smith: (stifles a laugh) OK! (Outside in the hall with Cissy and Butchie) Butchie: I’m goin’ in there. Cissy: No, you’re not. (whispering) Butchie: (whispering)
Well if he hasn’t come out in a couple minutes I’m
goin’ back in there. (pauses) Pretty
quick. (Cut to the parking lot, we see Freddy sitting alone in his car watching the hospital doors. Freddy is listening to the car radio, closed captioning refers to the music as “new-age music”) Freddy: She’s got some voice on her, this girl. Like the girl
in the Phantom of the Opera. I had tickets twice…see the show. (He looks over to see the news crews in
the parking lot) Oh yeah, here’s some blood-drinkin’ vampire cocksucker on
sale for half a ham sandwich. (He looks back to see Mitch exiting the
hospital) Oh, god hail Christ. (Mitch is peeking around a corner
and sees the reporters). Pray for yourself you don’t see this man you
fuckin’ vampire reptiles, cause I will cut you into 50 fuckin’ pieces before
you get your first question out. (Mitch pauses and stands out of view of the
reporters) (Cut back to Shaun in
bed. Dr Smith is clearly happy about Shaun’s “recovery”) Smith: Ahhhh,
well you see perfectly fine to me Shaun. I know that tube is uncomfortable for
you. I’m going to go outside and tell your family how you’re doing, then I’m
going to come back in and I’ll take that out for you, OK? Shaun: (One blink)
Smith: (No longer able to contain himself, he laughs) OK! (Smith exits the room, briefly speaks to the nurse who goes into the room as Smith approaches the Yosts). Smith: (voice quivering) Shaun has recovered. Once I get the tube out of his throat, I’ll come
back out and we should talk. (Cissy and Butchie are stunned) Cissy: We can’t come in now? Smith: (Hurrying back to the room) No, not till the tube’s out, it can be uncomfortable
for relatives to watch. (He goes back into the room, we see Bill peering
into his jacket pocket) Bill: (to Zippy)
You’re
gonna pay for that pal. (to the others) Bird shit in my pocket. (Camera pans around the hall, we see Linc standing alone, and we see Kai and John standing against a wall. ) John: I took a dump. Zippy kissed him. Shaun’s much
improved and well. Bill thought he’d give it a shot. Shit in Bill’s pocket.
No-no, I got my eye on you! (Looking
over at Linc) The end is near. Linc: I know, you told me. John: (to Kai) I’d
like to bone you Kai. Kai:
You are one smooth talkin’ city dude. (They smile
and laugh while Linc watches) (Cut back to the parking
lot, we see Mitch is still lurking to avoid the reporters. Freddy is watching
as Cass exits the hospital and sees Mitch) Freddy: Oh, who’s this now? (she’s approaching Mitch) Ah,
shit. Cass: (to Mitch) Do
you mind? Mitch: These reporters around the corner, I’m just working
up to making a break for the parking garage. Cass: Can I ask how your grandson’s doing? Mitch: (pauses) He’s
gonna die. And my wife doesn’t want me
up there. (makes a realization and sighs) I gotta leave her the car. Cass: I can give you a ride, if you want. I’ll bring my car
around, we can go out the other way. (she pauses, then leaves. Mitch watches
her walk away, then turns and follows) Freddy: (apparently to the radio) Huh, that’s where the blind dego’s supposed to come
in. What is this, a different version?
Ehhhhh. (Cut back to Dr Smith with the Yosts and Bill in the hallway) Smith: When I examined Shaun on admission, his neck was
broken. His spinal cord was severed, and there was no brain function. You
grandson had passed away, by every meaningful measure, but now he has come
alive, showing no sign of any of those injuries. (Everyone looks at each
other, this is not sinking in yet) Cissy: How badly damaged is his brain? Smith: He’s fully responsive, and the monitor’s showing
normal electrical activity. Everything that should move, does. (sighs) I
don’t think his brain is damaged at all. Butchie: Well how long is he going to have to stay in here? Smith: This is a very important and delicate part of this
conversation. (Butchie and Bill back away) (to Cissy) No hospital is
equipped to deal with what happened to your grandson. If he stays, what’ll
happen to him here is in the hospital’s interest and will be of no benefit to
him. Cissy: So you’re saying we should take him home. Smith: As a physician, I can’t say that to you. (silence while they consider what he has
said) (Butchie is peeking into Shaun’s room to see Shaun drinking from a straw) Butchie: What’s the word, kurd! Shaun: Hey dad! (Cut to Freddy in the parking lot as a car is pulling in along side his car) Freddy: Here’s this fucking idiot. (A shadey looking guy
exits the car and moves over to Freddy’s car, standing silently outside the car
window. Freddy looks straight ahead) Freddy: Are ya gonna get in the fuckin’ car? Palaka: Well I – I didn’t know if ya saw me, cause I didn’t
wanna frighten you. Freddy: (pauses, still looking ahead) Well are ya gonna get in? (he gets in) Palaka: How ya doin’? How’s the flight, guy? Freddy: Gimme your hand. (he takes Palaka’s hand and
smashes it hard against the dash board several times) Palaka: (gasping, sputtering) Oh, oh that’s broken. Oh boy, oh boy, wow,
wow. Freddy: I’m half thinkin’ I’m gonna need a reason to find out
what’s goin’ on in there. Palaka: Ghhuhhh, uh-huh. Freddy: Take you in as a injured friend. Palaka: Uhhoh, absolutely. Freddy: I take you in, you need attention, I’m in there on
the ear about the kid. Palaka: Wazza that? Look. (We see Bill exiting a back door
of the hospital and looking suspiciously around) Freddy: Oh shit……oh shit…..oh Christ! (We see Butchie exit
with Shaun riding on his back) (To Palaka) Get out! Scare the snakes off! Palaka: Where’s the snakes?! Freddy: The reporters! Scare the fuckin’ reporters over
there! (We now see Bill and Butchie doubling back to the door) Palaka: Where? Freddy: Over there! Over there! Palaka: (Running towards the wrong group of people) Hey, I’ve been attacked! I’m injured, looks what’s
happened to me! Help me! (He’s holding up his newly hurt hand) Please!
Please! (Now we see the rest of the Yost gang exiting the door and heading toward the parking garage, needing to get past the reporters) Freddy: (To Palaka) No, no! Over there! Over
there! (Freddy gets out of the car now and heads towards the reporters to
block them. Freddy manages to distract the reporters while the Yosts make their
escape. We see the Yost wagon rushing out of the parking garage, followed by
Kai’s jeep and Bill’s truck) (Cut to a beach parking area, we see Cass and Mitch sitting in her Porsche) Mitch: I knew it was fuckin’ wrong. Letting him compete. Cass: I’m sure it’s what he wanted. Mitch: Well, the mistake is not him wanting it, the mistake is
me letting him. Cass: Sometimes I think, you have to let people follow
their heart. (Mitch makes a face) And that whole heat, every ride, it
was beautiful to see. Mitch: What was beautiful, watching him milk a closed out
section to impress a bunch of fuckin’ judges! That’s not surfing. (Cass’
phone rings, she answers. It’s Linc, and she pretends it’s a different
conversation) Cass: Oh hi, yeah, I’m glad you called, can you tell the
lab the film looks good? Linc: (in the hospital) Are you with him? Cass: Yeah. Linc: I don’t know what’s going on. But the whole family
just left here with Shaun, and… it looked to me like his eyes were open. He was
moving his arms. Cass: No, I don’t know about that reel. Linc: Has anybody called Mitch? Cass: No, but probably they will soon. (Linc sees Dr
Smith in the hallway). Linc: Just play it out. You doing any good with him? Cass: Yeah, I like the way the film looks, a lot. Linc: Yeah well, smart girl. (they hang up) Mitch:
You know that’s flapping your fins for an audience.
That’s letting dipshits define you by a number, so other dipshits can compare
you with other numbers so the other dipshits know who to pay to wear their
sunglasses, so other dipshits in the
malls know which ones to buy. I just…I shouldn’t have let him go out. (long pause) Um…and what I’m doin’
here…..instead of bein’ at the hospital… for me and for her. But I suppose that’s what’s it’s come to
between my wife and myself. Cass: Would you like to walk? (Cut to the hospital hall, Linc has approached Dr Smith) Linc: Uh, I’m a uh friend of the Yosts, and um, can you
tell me anything about Shaun? His eyes were open, looked to me like he was
moving his arms. Can you tell me anything about that? Smith: (Has been eyeing Linc suspiciously) No. Linc: Well you’re probably not allowed to talk to anyone
who’s not part of the family. Smith: This is a restricted area sir. Linc: Thank you. (turning away) Thank you for the
work you do. (They eye each other as Linc walks away.) (Cut to the Snug Harbor
Motel office, Barry is fiddling with a coffee machine) Ramon: (to Dickstein) When my brother-in-law got shot one time, nobody felt like cooking. Barry: One wonders, Ramon, why that comes to mind? Ramon: When the Yosts get home, they’ll be sad….they’ll have
no food. Dickstein: Shall we take them a nourishing pot-luck dinner? Ramon: Yeah, that’s what I would think. Dickstein: Something which can be heated easily and served
without fuss. Barry: May I be your wheel man? Once I’ve seen to room 24? O-Only to close the door I left open
as I fled. Ramon: (rolling his eyes at Dickstein) Or, you could leave closing the door till tomorrow. Barry: I intend no confrontation with what I saw within.
Only to mark the boundary between us. Didn’t the poet say: Good fences make good
neighbors? (Barry walks out, Ramon and Dickstein each sigh and start after
him. As the group starts across the parking area, Barry says:) Uh, no
skipping! (Barry looks across the
parking to the 3 bikini-clad cutout figures that Butchie and John left there
earlier, and points at them)
Animate or inanimate? Dickstein: Inanimate. Barry: (As he slowly approached the door to room 24) Do you hear the dead man singing within, gentlemen? Ramon: I’m half deaf from the leaf blower. Barry: No, attorney Dickstein? Dickstein: Ah, surfer’s ear. Exostosis of the ear canal. Barry: I alone then am favored by that jovially croaking
post-coital falsetto, winsomely characturing Debbie Boone? (He begins
humming and singing “You light up my life”, as he quickly grabs the door and
slams it shut) Ramon: (Ramon and Dickstein have been trying not to stare at
Barry) Maybe we could get them some
pea soup? Barry: Black knee socks. Dickstein: You’re suggesting we go to a pea soup restaurant, am
I correct Ramon? Now that the door is properly closed. Ramon: (Barry is frozen in his tracks, Ramon takes him by
the arm) Come, come. Dickstein: We’ll take mine. Ramon: Yeah. (Cut to the Yost house, Shaun’s room. Shaun is in bed talking to Butchie as he checks the surf meet results online) Shaun: I won, dad. Butchie: Good job. Shaun: Can’t I get out of bed? Butchie: Aw, it’s a 3-ring circus out there now Shaunie, if you get out of bed we’ll be up to 5. (Butchie peers through the bedroom door to see Cissy, Kai and John in the living room, Bill is near the door looking out the window. Cut to the front of the house, there’s a small crowd of on-lookers in the street. Freddy and Palaka are sitting in their car a short distance away, “keeping watch”. Palaka is wrapping his wrist and hand with some duct tape, struggling with it) Freddy: What a stupid fuck you are. Palaka: Almost got this put on. Freddie:
Explain to me the difference between you, and a
monkey in a tree. Palaka: (chewing
on duct tape) Bleeaack, I don’t know. Would it distract you if I asked you a
question? (Freddy is studying the group of on-lookers) I called you yesterday, Butchie wanted to buy an
ounce. “Don’t give him no dope, sell him shit.” Right? Could you explain your thinking? If you think I could
follow it. Freddy: He’s got some insurance settlement, Butchie. He
thinks he’ll deal, instead of just use. What he’s gonna do, is OD and die. Palaka: Long term, we lose a client. Freddy: All the weight I move, you think Butchie’s 2 dime
bags a day means anything to me? Palaka: Nah, absolutely not. Freddy: (shaking
his head) Moron. Palaka: So, our angle…. Freddy: Is what? Palaka: No, um, um, I’m asking. Freddy: I don’t know. Not why I told you not to sell to him,
not what I flew out here for to see shape-changers in a rear-view mirror. Palaka: You see him now, you see him? Freddy: Shut up. Palaka: Nah, I go weeks on end not knowing what I’m up to. Freddy: (nodding
to the growing crowd) Believe me, it’s gonna be
a zoo out here for that family to deal with. And you’re too fuckin’ ignorant to
realize it. Palaka: (Still
struggling to get the duct tape secured around his wrist) God what a fracture! (Cut to the beach, as Cass and Mitch are walking) Mitch: When I was a kid, there was still some of those
old-timers down here in those drift-wood shacks. Cass: Dempsey Holder. Mitch: Uh, you know your history. Cass: Well like I said… Mitch: You like vintage. (pause) When you love a thing, you want to pass it on. Cass: You have. Mitch: You met my son?
Now Shaun. Cass: You should also know, you’ve had an effect on a lot
of people. Ya know, who you are. (stops walking and pauses) Come to my hotel. (Cut back to the Yost house, Butchie is approaching Cissy.
Cissy is hanging up a cell phone) Cissy: Straight to fuckin’ voice mail. Butchie: Well, if dad’s surfing, he’s not going to have his
phone on. Bill: (mumbling
to himself at the window) I’m a family
spokesman. I’m a retired police officer. Let’s give the Yost family a little
bit of privacy…. Cissy: What’s that Bill? Bill: Gawkers, press, candle fanatics,
we’re on the
precipice of a clusterfuck! I’m thinkin’ I’ll go out and thin it out. Cissy: I’d appreciate it. Bill: Happy to do it. Come on Zip. (John is standing in the way) Why don’t you press yourself up against the door, make it impossible to do what she’s asked me to do. (John leans against the door, Kai grabs John’s hand and pulls him out of the way.) Jesus Christ almighty. (Bill goes outside) Kai: John wanted to go look at some boards at the shop. John:
I’m gonna bone Kai Butchie. I may have to break her
jaw first. Kai: No floor boning, we’ll just clear off a couch. Butchie: Make her see god, John. John: I’m gonna try hard enough. Kai: Yeah, we’ll go out back. We can jump the fence. (They leave) Cissy: Where is that guy from? Butchie: Cincinnati. (Cissy sighs) Shaunie won. Cissy: Maybe I should leave your dad another message. (She walks to the window and looks
out) I went off on him. Butchie: Um…yeah? Cissy: When it looked like Shaun was gonna die. Butchie: Um, I bet dad held his end up. The last few days have been a little strange. I’m not confusing you two with the Huxtables. Cissy: (peering
out the window) Is that Freddy out there? Butchie: Yeah? Cissy: Why am I surprised he’s not in Hawaii? Butchie: He flew out to beat my balls off. Cissy: I don’t want any trouble here Butchie! Butchie: We’re alright. I mean he drove me to the hospital. Cissy: He’s not surfing! His boards are in the garage! Butchie: Well, I mean when you go up in the air like he did,
it has to fuck with your head a little. Cissy: What, Freddy? Butchie: No…. (pauses, thinking about what to say) I don’t know. Cissy: Well tell Shaunie I’ll be in in a minute. I’m gonna go have a cigarette. (grabs a pack and heads for the back door) Butchie: Sure. (Cut to the street outside. Bill is approaching Freddy, who’s leaning against the car.)
Bill: Excuse me. I have to ask you your business with the
Yosts. Freddy: My business is none of your business. Bill: I believe I just made it my business. What is your name
please? Freddy: What’s your
name? Bill: Bill Jacks, I’m a retired police officer, and you
don’t wanna make me ask your name again. Freddy: Retired cops don’t get my name, what time it is, or
pissed on if they go up in flames. Bill: That would be a mistake by you, pertaining to me. Freddy: Then go up in flames and I’ll piss on ya. Bill: Because I will kick your ass, retired or not. Freddy: (pauses,
studying Bill) I’m a friend of the
family, alright? Bill: I’m a friend of the family. Freddy: Then they got 2 friends lookin’ out for them. Bill: And you look out for them how, by seein’ when their
backs are turned so you can steal their drapes? Freddy: (pauses
again) I’ve flown a long distance on my own
dime to look out for these people. Bill: I don’t have to fly, cause I live nearby. Freddy:
Well pin a rose on your donkey nose. Bill: Bein’ you won’t tell me your real name, here’s a made up one. Do not impede me lookin’ out for these people, dipshit who looks like someone smashed his face with a board. (both of them appear to be enjoying this exchange quite a bit. They both lean back against the car and look around) (Cut to the Porsche, driving with Mitch and Cass, Cass is on the phone with Linc again) Cass: Susan, make your own decision about those exposures
and we’ll go over them at the lab. Linc: (who
is now standing in front of the Yost house.) This
is bullshit, get him over here. Cass: Really. Linc: Yes, really, they brought him home. Cass: I may take a ride over there. Linc: Well, make it fast, I’m standing around like a fucking wanna-be. (hangs up)
Cass: (to
Mitch) It’s the girl who called earlier. Mitch: Susan. Cass: She’s been following the story. They’ve taken Shaun
home. Mitch: Turn around. (she turns the car around) (Cut to the surf shop, Kai and John are there) Kai: Maybe you
wanna find yourself a board, John. People take hours with that. Could be our
full date. John: Where do we bone, Kai? Kai: If we were gonna bone? My trailer’s out back. What does bone mean, John? John: I don’t know Butchie instead. Kai: Touch my tits. John: (confused)
Tits don’t ring a bell. (she takes him
by the hand to lead him out of the shop) Are we
gonna bone? Kai: We’re going to my trailer. Boning doesn’t necessarily
ring a bell. (Cut back to Shaun’s room, where he is sitting up and reading a magazine. Butchie enters) Shaun: I’m not tired. Butchie: OK, you can read them mags, no need to stay in bed. Shaun: Why does Gram want me to? Butchie: Well, she saw
you get hurt. Shaun: I’m OK now. Butchie: You were hurt. (he pauses, then sits down beside Shaun) Hey, you remember anything, you know, after you wiped out? (Shaun shakes his head – no) You got fuckin’ done, man. Owned hard. You know, Gram and Gramps too, they thought you weren’t gonna make it. A lot of people…. (he takes the magazine from Shaun and starts reading). Shaun: I woke up, I had a tube in. Butchie: Yeah. (points
to a picture in the magazine) One time I put
“Icy Hot” in the crotch of this guy’s wetsuit. Shaun: And Bill was there, and Zippy. Butchie: And then you got better. But before that, I didn’t
think you could. Shaun: Zippy was dead, the day before yesterday. Butchie: You thought he
was dead. Shaun: Can I go out on the half-pipe? Butchie: Your Grams is out there smoking a cigarette. Shaun: She’s always worried. Butchie: Alright understand you go out there you can’t just
hug her and say “I’m OK Grams” and
start to boogie. (Shaun nods and gets up) I
let you go out there, you’re gonna do what you’re gonna do, but you have to let
Grams do what she has to do. Cool? Shaun: Thanks, dad. Butchie: You know, because something really did happen to you,
Shaunie. (they study each other
for a moment, Shaun starts to leave) Don’t go
to the front of the house, there’s a lot of people out there. Shaun: OK Butchie: An they heard
something happened, they’re just curious, that’s all. Shaun: OK (He leaves) (Butchie pulls out his phone and dials) Butchie: Yo, dad, call mom for christ’s sake. All right, it’s
not what you think. Just call her. (Cut to the back yard, Cissy is smoking as Shaun exits the house) Shaun: Hi Gram. Cissy: What are you doing?! Shaun: Dan said, you know, I could ride a little while. Cissy: (sighs,
not happy) Did he? Shaun: And not to go out front. Cissy: So dad was full of instructions. Did he tell you to break your neck for the
second time today? Shaun: (we
cut to Butchie, inside, listening through the door) Gram, I feel like a dork in there laying around. Cissy: (shouting
now) Well isn’t that too goddamn bad. You
listen to me, don’t listen to that fucking idiot . (She leads him back
to his room, we see Butchie cringing as though he knows what is coming) You stay in here till you hear me say you can leave. (still
shouting at Shaun, then she comes out to confront Butchie in the living room) Did you build that half-pipe? Butchie: (quietly,
head down, his back to Cissy) No ma, you did. Cissy: (Completely losing it now, screaming) And what you did is blow smoke in the phone. “Ya mom, I’ll be right there ma” (we see Shaun in his room, listening to this) “Sorry I couldn’t help ma” I didn’t even tell Shaun you were gonna come help, cause I knew what the odds were! (Still screaming, sobbing) “Where’s my dad, Gram? Where’s my dad?” …. Now you want him to break his neck. (Butchie has had his back to her through all this, cringing. He starts and suddenly leaves, slamming the door. Cissy is left alone, sobbing) (Cut to Kai’s trailer as she is putting on a record while John watches) Kai: We’re boning now, aren’t we? John: Now we’re boning, Kai. (acoustic blues starts playing) Kai: Boning John, is when you put your joint in my pussy. (John
is clueless) That’s your joint, here’s my
pussy. John: (still
doesn’t have a clue) Now we’re boning. Kai: (pauses)
Has anyone ever called you slow John?
Challenged? John: (his
mood changes, more serious) I don’t know
Butchie instead. Kai: You know, if we did bone, I’d feel like I was getting over on a hot slow guy. John: (more
serious now, he looks at her directly) See god,
Kai. (Kai looks at him, her eyes get really big, then eyes roll back in her head and she falls back onto the bed unconscious. Suddenly we see a grainy, blurry image of Butchie standing in an alley as someone comes up behind him and hands him something. Next we see Kai again, then we see Vietnam Joe standing with the crowd at the Yosts house. Joe is suddenly doubled over and grabbing his leg in severe pain, yelling “Ah!, Ow!”. After this we see Ramon with Dickstein and Barry, outside a sandwich shop, Ramon is grabbing at his crucifix chain as though it is burning him. All this time the blues music is playing. Now we see Kai again, it seems as though she is the one seeing all these things as she is passed out. Now we see Butchie in his motel room just getting ready to shoot up. Suddenly his hair starts smoking all over the top of his head. He drops his syringe and yells “Motherfucker!” and grabs his head. Cut back to John who is watching Kai with curiosity. Kai’s eyes open and she sits up, confused.) Kai: (gasps)
Oh, did you slip me a roofie? John: I slipped you a roofie. Kai: Shut up John, you don’t know what you are talking
about. John: I don’t know what I’m talking about. Kai: (gasps,
grabs her head) I’m so dizzy! (she grabs both her breasts) My piercings feel like they were in a furnace! John: They were in a
furnace. Kai: Ah, shut up. (she
reaches over and grabs John’s head) Don’t do
that to me again, John, ever. You fucking hear me? John: See god, Kai. Kai: If that’s what it’s like, I don’t want to. John: That’s what it’s like. (again looking straight at her, almost through her) (Cut to the Yost house, in the street out front, as the Porsche arrives with Mitch. It’s dark now. Mitch says thanks to Cass and gets out, she drives away. Mitch starts walking up the street to his house. He stops when he sees a large crowd of people and reporters on his front yard. We see Linc lurking in his car watching. Bill and Freddy are still leaning against the car, when Bill spots Mitch and walks towards him, leaving Freddy at the car. Palaka is approaching with what looks like coffee and sandwiches.) Freddy: Where’s’ the girl in the Porsche? Palaka: Yeah, where’d she get to? Freddy: What’d you do, celebrate your birthday over there? Palaka: Busy Winchells. (he holds up his duct-tape-wrapped
hand) It’s burnt. Burnt. It rains, it pours. (Bill has caught up with Mitch) Mitch: Why’d she bring him home? Bill: He recovered from his injuries. Mitch: What’re you talking about? Bill: (shrugs) A
miracle? (Mitch is stunned, and
walks slowly towards his house, leaving Bill alone talking to himself:) Whataya
gonna say, tell him that the bird kissed him? (We hear a squawk from Zippy
in his pocket. ) Aw Zippy, Jesus Christ Almighty! (Mitch is mobbed by reporters as he approaches the house, he makes several exchanges with them about answering questions, then turns and talks to one of them) Mitch: Why don’t you pick that cigarette of yours off my driveway, and swallow it? (This reporter turns and sees Vietnam Joe standing nearby, approaches him as if to ask a question. Joe raises his hands to wave the reporter off) Bill: (seeing
Joe) There’s another fucking drug casualty. (Cut to the interior living room as Mitch enters, Cissy is sitting there smoking a cig.) Mitch: I’m so happy about Shaun. Cissy: You notice, I’m smoking in here? Mitch: If we’d done things my way at the hospital, he
wouldn’t be alive. Cissy: I looked for you when we were leaving. Mitch: Yeah, I had the phone off. Just coming to terms with how it seemed like it was gonna be for
Shaunie. Cissy: Maybe if I asked why you had the phone off you’d tell
me were you went? Mitch: I walked away, Cissy. I - you know, I’m not trying to
turn away from that. You know, and I’ll take whatever time I have to .. to live
into what that means. But I’m also not gonna deny the things you said to me in
that room. And, it’s going to take some time living into those too. Cissy: (pausing) You wanna see Shaun? (We see Shaun, laying in his room, listening to them.) Mitch: He’s in his room? Cissy: Over there. (Mitch starts to Shaun’s room, then stops and sits down with a sigh) Mitch: What you said to me in the hospital shamed me, Cissy.
And it made me recognize how my shortcomings have hurt you. And I mean that’s…
that’s on me to deal with. But I’d just as soon Shaunie not see me right now,
this fucked up. Cissy: (Shaking
her head) Not being as bright as you, Mitch, so
full of the wisdom of the East, sounds like you’re saying that what’s right for
you is to do whatever you fucking want. (He groans and leans back, he
knows what’s coming) Which isn’t exactly fresh
news. Mitch: Cissy…. Cissy: Anyways, we’re a little busy here. Go do your heavy
thinking. And whoever drove you from the hospital, can give you a lift. Mitch: Which is another way of saying, yeah we do need time
apart. I’m going. (heads for the door) There’s
a mob outside, I’ll go over the back fence. Everyone better get used to that. Cissy: Maybe not you Mitch. (He turns and looks at her, then leaves) (Cut to Butchie in his motel room, he’s feeling his head carefully, trying to figure out what happened to him. After a moment, he gets up and leaves. His drugs and needle laying on the table having not been used) (Cut back to the street at the Yost house, we see Dr Smith approaching on foot. Bill and Freddy are still at their post, Bill spots Smith) Bill: Doc! (They exchange waves) Palaka: Physician? (Freddy and Bill just look at him. Smith approaches the house and is met by reporters wanting to ask questions. Smith tells them no. ) Palaka: Is that the bay, or the ocean itself? ( He seems to be making an excuse for walking over to the house, then leaves and walks away) (Cut to the interior house as Smith knocks on the door. Cissy is lighting a cig off the stove, then looks out the window to see the Dr. She quickly puts out the cig and answers the door) Cissy: Dr, hi. Yeah, you smell the smoke. I usually do it outside. (He enters) Smith: Uh…so how is Shaun? Cissy: Breaking my balls to let him skate. Smith: Well, I take that as a good sign. Cissy: (pauses then looks at him) What do you want? (reconsiders her attitude) Sorry. Smith: No … um, uh…It’s a good question. Cissy: Uh….are you hear to examine him? Smith: It’s important to me not to misrepresent myself, Mrs.
Yost. Uh… I’m confident the diagnosis of
Shaun’s condition that I gave you and your husband in that waiting room was
correct. Shaun’s x-rays showed catastrophic spinal injury. His E.E.G…..the test
that measures brain waves, was essentially a flat line. Now, people don’t
survive those injuries as vegetables, let alone recover fully. Yet I don’t
doubt, if you let me examine Shaun, I’ll confirm that he has recovered. Which
brings us face to face with possibilities that… uh… I’ve been taught deserve no
more than a friendly pat on the head. Which brings me there….here….(stammering)
to…to…uh. Watching a stranger tie himself in
knots is probably not your idea of fun just now, but…um. Cissy: (pausing,
smiling) Room’s in back. Smith: Thank you. (he goes to see Shaun) You know, I smoke sometimes -- a couple a day. (Cut to an exterior, looks like the Yost’s back yard.
Butchie is climbing over a fence and hops into the yard. He walks over to the
next fence to see Mitch. Mitch is dangling from the top of the fence by one
leg, the leg hooked over the fence by the knee and Mitch trying to hang on to
the fence to hold himself up. ) Butchie: Dad? Hey. (Mitch looks around to see him) Mitch: Fuck Butchie: Hey that’s some mess out front huh? Mitch: Yeah, and now I gotta nail right in the back of my
knee. Butchie: Well you’re hanging there like a side of beef. (He moves to try to lift Mitch) Mitch: No, no, no, don’t don’t…..get away. I don’t want to
tear the artery. Butchie: (He’s
lifting anyway) We gotta get you off there dad.
Mitch: Wait, just wait….fuck! Butchie: (Lifting
again) Now come on, here we go— Mitch: OK, you know what? Put your thumb above it just to
stop the circulation. Butchie: Just shut up, dad! Mitch: Goddamnit! Just to stop it from spurting. Butchie: (Literally
lifting Mitch off of the fence and setting him on the ground) Oh what, a fountain? Mitch: (On
the ground now) Oh fuck, is it spurting? Butchie: No, I’m fucking with you. You’re off the hook
dad. (Mitch is fine, no blood
anywhere, he stands and takes stock of himself) I
guess you heard about Shaun. Mitch: Yeah, that was something, huh? Butchie: Here, come on, let’s go clean it up. Up in your fort.
(Mitch starts to walk away) Where are
you going? Mitch: Thanks. (walks away, leaves Butchie as Butchie is checking his head again. Then Butchie hops over the fence) (Cut to Shaun’s room as Dr Smith is having him do some tests. Shaun has his arms outstretched at his sides) Shaun: Now? Smith: Yeah. (Shaun
takes his fingers, eyes closed, and brings them together to meet. Like a drunk
test.) Good. Now, bring your fingers
toward your face and touch the tip of
your nose. Shaun: This sucks. (He performs the test flawlessly) Smith: OK, you can open your eyes. (He places his
hand under Shaun’s chin) I want you to push
down on my thumb with your chin. (Shaun does so) Hard as you can…hard.
Good! Done! We’re all done. Very
good. Shaun: So…was I dead or something? (startles Smith) Smith: You ---you looked pretty banged up when they brought
you in, Shaun. But obviously, you’re fine. If I had any doubts, I’d restrict
your activities. Shaun: Did you think I was gonna die? Smith: No sir. No I did not. (I think no, I think not?) (Smith gets up to leave) Well, I’m sure glad I got the chance to be your doctor. (Shakes Shaun’s hand) Shaun: Thanks for taking care of me. Smith: Sure. (We hear Butchie clearing his throat outside the door to the backyard) Shaun: That’s my dad. (Opens the door to the yard.) Hey dad! Butchie: Hey! I was
just out here, uh, rippin’ a few. Smith: I’ll see you Shaun. Shaun: Can I skate? Smith: Whatever’s OK with your grandmother. Shaun: See ya. (Smith exits the house, Shaun stays inside. Shaun goes to the kitchen to find Cissy washing dishes.) Cissy: What’d the doctor say? Shaun: He wouldn’t restrict my activity. Cissy: Did he leave? Shaun: He’s out back with my dad. Cissy: When did your dad get back? Shaun: I guess he came over the fence. Cissy: (softly)
I was a jerk before, to your dad. Shaun: (putting
a hand on her shoulder) I’m sorry I scared you,
getting hurt. Cissy: I guess the doctor meant you could skate. Shaun: He said you had to say it was OK. Cissy: (smiling)
It’s OK.
I mean, maybe wait till your dad’s done talking to the doctor. Shaun: OK Cissy: Cause he was scared too, your dad. Shaun: OK, thanks Gram. Cissy: OK. (Cut to the back yard, Butchie and Smith are in the half-pipe. Butchie is sitting, Smith is pacing as though he doesn’t know what to do with himself) Smith: Maybe I … Butchie: Find a place to light, would ya doc? (Smith sits down) I’m having a problem with my implants, doc. (points to his head with both hands) Smith: Implants? (We see Shaun inside trying to eavesdrop through the door. Palaka has come down the side of the house and is outside Shaun’s window) Palaka: Psst! Hey.
It’s Palaka, the ice cream man. You know me? Shaun: No. Palaka: No? Cause I know your father. Yeah. Listen, that guy,
ah, in the back, is that the guy I saw coming in? Shaun: How do I know who you saw coming in? Palaka: You make a good point. Anyway, he’s a doctor? He
identified himself as a doctor, to get
past the heat. Shaun: Yeah, he’s a doctor. Palaka: Yeah? Good. Oh, thanks, thanks very much. Thanks
dude. (Starts to leave then
turns back) You know Steady Freddy? I do
delivery work for him. Shaun: I thought he was in Hawaii. Palaka: No, he - he’s
here. He broke my wrist. That’s why – because, you know. Anyway, I’m glad
you’re better. Yo, cool. Hey, I was,
eh, we were, er, we were in the parking lot when you booked? I was the guy who
stood off the reporters. I mean, never mind. Don’t worry about it, I got you
covered. (Cut back to the half-pipe) Butchie: Yeah, I passed out, it got that fuckin’ hot. Smith: But that’s not the first place you’d think of for
implants. Butchie: Was sort of a “fuck you, who gives a fuck”, you know? Smith: Uh-huh. Butchie: 35 fuckin’ old-schoolers write to a magazine: “Butchie Yost and his fuckin’ aerials!”. “Stink finger to the entire fuckin’ sport!” Well good, douche bags. If I’m such a bad guy, deal with these! (pointing to his head) Smith: (clears
his throat) Sensations of burning like you felt
with your implants, can be caused by IV drug use. Butchie: What’s drug use got to do with the price of eggs? (pulls down his sleeve) Smith: You’ve got a phlebitis that should be looked at. (pointing
to Butchie’s arm) Where you shoot up. If it breaks off, that clot can go places in
your body that you’d prefer it didn’t. Butchie: (laughs
nervously) Whoa, you should be a doctor. Smith: It’s also possible that what you felt had nothing to
do with paresthesias. Butchie: Whatever that means doc, I’m busted for being a dope
fiend. Smith: Why would that make you ineligible for a paranormal experience? And as Shaun’s father, maybe your eligibility’s enhanced. (Butchie pauses, considering) Butchie: You met my old man, right? Smith: Mitch, yeah. Butchie: Up in the air yesterday. I saw it with my own eyes.
Off the fucking ground. Smith: (pauses)
I wouldn’t rule out the possibility of a
connection. Butchie: Listen to this doc, a guy shows up at my door, he
creates money in his pants. Plastic!
Platinum fuckin’ credit card with unspecified upper credit
authority. His cell phone! Smith: Unlimited calling minutes? Butchie: You know, plus as far as getting’ high, the last
couple of days have been one fuckin’ interruption after another. You know I
should be on the floor, dope-sick. And I don’t feel that bad! (Smith is
nodding, smiling oddly) What’s the matter? Smith: (smiling, fidgeting) I am so happy! (laughs) (We see Palaka has been behind the half-pipe listening to them, he moves to leave. On his way past Shaun’s window again he says: “You take care”) (Cut to Shaun’s room again) Cissy: (Calling
to him from the kitchen) Shaun! Go ahead Shaun.
Go on out on the half-pipe! (Music fades in as he grins and grabs his skateboard. Cut to the front yard where the crowd continues to grow. We see Vietnam Joe with an apparent buddy of his. We also see Linc is still lurking in his car. All of them are noticing that John and Kai are walking towards the house. Linc gets out of his car. Cut to Bill on the front lawn, he has intercepted Ramon, Barry and Dickstein as they try to deliver their pea soup.) Dickstein: But we’re bringing them some nutritious soup! Bill: I don’t care if you’re bringing them a Sikorsky
Helicopter. Vietnam Joe: (to
his buddy) Saw plenty of them, didn’t we. Bill: (To
Dickstein) I can’t let you in. We let you in,
we gotta let ‘em all in! (Freddy is standing next to the group, looking at Barry.) Freddy: (to
Barry) You need a smack? Barry: No, I don’t need a smack. John: (Approaching
Bill with Kai) I got my eye on you! Bill: Ohahh! Freddy: (to
Barry) That’s that shape changer. (Linc has approached the side of the house where a group are watching Shaun in the half-pipe from across the fence) Linc: Jesus Christ! Kai: (she
looks at Linc, then at John) What’s going on ,
John? John: (Nodding towards Shaun in the half-pipe) See god, Kai. (We see the entire crowd is watching Shaun.) (Cut to Shaun doing his routine in the half-pipe. Butchie and Smith are watching him and smiling. We see Cissy watching too, through the window. Music increases as we watch Shaun in the half-pipe, cameras are clicking, flashes, finally we see a freeze-frame of him, he has a big grin on his face.) (Fade to white, then black, credits roll)
|
|
John From
Cincinnati Episode 4 Click for the trailer (Open at the military radio transmitter site. We see John studying the facility from a distance. John is alone. Suddenly he is much closer to the site, then once again farther away.) (Cut to a street in front
of a grocery store, we see Palaka pushing a shopping cart across the street,
which appears to be loaded with beach chairs and sundry items. A horn honks,
tires screech as a car avoids Palaka) Palaka: Hey, whatta ya doin’? Fucking homicidal prick! (Cut to a sidewalk coffee shop, we see Dr Smith sitting with the morning newspaper as he is approached by a man in a suit. In the background we can still hear Palaka screaming at the car) Lewinsky: Mark Lewinski, doctor. We met at the Ronald McDonald
thing for the kids last year. Smith: Oh, yes. Lewinski: (Pointing to the paper, we see the headline: “Miracle
Boy!”.) Good copy in the morning
paper does not necessarily mean uninterrupted sleep for the hospital’s
liability attorney. Smith: Would you like me to prescribe some barbiturates? Lewinski: (pauses) What
I would like from you sir, what the hospital very much would like, is some sort
of accounting as to how a patient could be admitted with a flatline E.E.G., be
oxygen-deprived for 27 minutes, be worked up for a C2 fracture then exit the
side door of our hospital within 2 hours. Smith: I believe he left piggy-back. Lewinski: Levity doctor? Smith: This family is not going to sue. Lewinski: “Miracle Boy” does undercut pain and suffering. Smith: The hospital has a public relations problem, this
should alleviate it. (hands Lewinski an envelope. Lewinski opens it and
begins reading) "In resigning, I acknowledge misreading the Yost boy’s
tests, which on recognizing my mistake, I destroyed." Lewinski: Well, that’s very forthcoming. “Inhuman hours,
incessant overwork”? Smith: Put that in a “P.S.” (Smith gets up, looks around
a bit then starts to wander off. Lewinki watches him with apparent confusion) (Cut back to John at the
same facility, looking at it from a distance. ) (Cut to the Yost house.
Cissy is standing in the kitchen as Butchie comes in from the living room,
wrapped in a blanket) Butchie:
Surfing ….. Shaunie? Cissy:
(chuckleing) A slow day yesterday. (They stand and study each
other for a bit, then Butchie starts to leave) Butchie:
I’m gonna go look for that nut, that
guy, for my friend John. Over the back fence, fucking reporters are having
breakfast outside. (Cut
to Cass’ hotel room, Cass and Mitch are in bed together) Mitch:
Sometimes to save what you love, you
have to be willing to lose it. It’s like surfing, if you do it for the wrong
reasons..for the points, it’s just a dead game. (Mitch grimaces and shifts
around) Cass:
Oh, your poor leg! Mitch:
Ah, last night’s as bad as it’s
gonna get. Get some herbs, make up a poultice and pffft! (He turns to her and
runs his hand up her torso) You feel that? The way the heat flows just like
chakra to chakra. (lays his hand on her face) You see the colors? (She
rolls away from him, we see her face and she is not happy) (Cut
to Kai’s trailer, she is arising from bed and looking around) Kai:
John? Are you dumpin’ out? (Gets up, looks in bathroom….no John.
Opens the front door and calls out) John? (She hurries to put her
clothes on) (Cut
to a street where we see John walking as a van pulls up beside him. There’s 3 guys
in the van, we see them exchange words with John, then open the side door and
John gets in.) (Cut
back to Cass’ hotel room, she is in the bathroom alone as Mitch calls to her
from the other room) Mitch:
Cass, are you in there? Cass:
No, it’s Amelia Earhart. Mitch:
Could you come out here? Cass:
What? Mitch:
Ahh…it’s important. (She opens
the bathroom door and steps out to see Mitch levitating in the center of the
room. He slowly floats up to the ceiling, then gently pushes himself down
again. Cass looks surprised and frightened.) (Cut to the Snug Harbor as Dr Smith is walking into the parking area. He looks around. Freddy and Palaka are sitting in some lawn chairs taking the sun. )
Palaka:
(imitating Freddy) “Is two
days off a crime? Do I ever get to fucking relax?” That was you, boss, in your
sleep during the night. Freddy:
I don’t talk in my sleep!! (Palaka spies Dr Smith, who is
approaching Barry and Dicksten across the parking area.) Palaka:
Physician. It’s that physician. (We
see Smith being directed across the way) (Cut
to Butchie’s motel room. Ramon is scrubbing the stove as Dr Smith knocks on the
door) Smith:
Hello? Hello! (Steps inside) Ahh…
I’m lookin’ for Butchie Yost. The
gentleman across the way pointed out the room to me. I hope you don’t mind I’ve
come in. Ramon:
You didn’t read the paper this
morning? That family had a miracle last night. Smith:
At the hospital. I was Shaun Yost’s
doctor. Ramon:
(Reaching to shake Smith’s hand,
he realizes he has on rubber gloves) Oh,
I’m sorry, itchy. (taking off gloves and shaking Smith’s hand) I’m
careful with germs. I smelled smoke, thought maybe it was the stove. You, you wanna stay or something? You could, you
know, uh, wait for Butchie. I’ll take my tools and you can … yeah. (Picking
up his cleaning stuff and leaving) Smith:
OK … sure …wait. (Cut
to Linc’s very fancy hotel room, Linc is talking to Cass) Linc:
In other words, you wanna talk about
all this strange shit that’s going on? You’re an expert in that field? That is
what I brought you on for? Cass:
OK, Linc, I get it. Linc:
If you got it, you’d still be in
that room with him. Cass:
He went out to get a poultice for his
knee. Linc:
You should be embarrassed to have to
tell me that. Cass:
Fuck you. (getting up to leave) Fuck
you. Linc:
The correct answer would be, “While
you, Linc, are signing Cissy, I’m going to try to sell him on moving out of his
house for good.” (She leaves) (Cut
to the van with John and 3 guys in it. One of the guys hands John a can of
beer) Guy
2: Share and share alike. Right
Carnal? John:
Right Carnal. Guy
3: (In back with John) That’s how we do it in I.B. (The van is pulling
into a nursery of some kind, or orchard. As the van passes a guy who’s raking,
the driver makes a sign for that guy to keep an eye out. As the van pulls
further into the nursery, it pulls over and stops. Guy 1, who is driving,
speaks to John) Guy
1: So, John from Cincinnati, it’s
time to chip in. We’ve done our last beer, gas too. (John is exchanging
looks with Guy 3 who is getting pissed off at John) Guy
3: How about I fuck you up, Joto? John:
How about I fuck you up? Guy
1: You being funny? (Guy 3 takes
a big swing and hits John hard on the jaw, which seems to have no effect.) Just
get his pinche wallet man. (As guy 3 is slugging John again, Guy 1 is
pulling out a switchblade and showing it to John) You think this is a joke
cabron? John:
I think this is a joke. Guy
1: (Turning around to John) I’ll cut your fucking heart out John:
Cut my fucking heart out. Guy
1: You don’t think I’ll cut you?
I’ll show you your heart while you die. John:
Show me my heart. Guy
1: You ready to look, you fuck? John:
I’m ready. Guy
1: Fuck you. (He starts stabbing
John, several times) Fuck you! Fuck ! (John falls to the floor of the
van, looking up at the guy.) You stare me down? You stare me down! I ain’t
afraid to be the last you see. Guy
2: Cold shot mano. Guy
3: You did what you had to do,
carnal. Guy
1: Get this fuck out of my ride. (Cut
to Butchie’s room where Smith is still waiting. Kai walks in the door.) Kai:
Hey Doc! Smith:
How are you? Kai:
That guy’s lost … that I was with at
the hospital? I though maybe he’d be here with Butchie. Smith:
Butchie’s not here either. Kai:
Things slow at the hospital? Smith:
I’ve resigned. Kai:
Whoa… If you see Butchie will you tell him I’m looking for John? Smith:
(nodding) I’m gonna check on Shaun in just a bit. (Kai
leaves) (Cut to the Yost house. Cissy is trying on a disguise
consisting of a hat and glasses, checking herself in a mirror as Linc walks in) Linc:
Good idea, Cissy. Cissy:
Shaunie’s surfing. With Jojo and his
other friends. Linc:
Out with the groms like yesterday
never even happened. Cissy:
You got something you need me to
sign, Linc? Linc:
Today isn’t yesterday, Cissy, and
I’m not clear on what the new rules are, but I know the old ones have been
canceled. Cissy:
Hmm, and you find time to come by
and tell me. Linc:
Do you know everything that you need
to know, dressed up like Michael Jackson while your boy’s in the water with 50
ass-holes pointing a camera at him?
Works for me. Of course, all those other kids in the water with Shaun,
I’ve signed them already. Cissy:
And I need you, right Linc? Your
steadying hand? Linc:
Where’s Mitch? Cissy:
My money would be, even seeing Shaun
last night didn’t convert you from the kind of asshole only asks questions he
knows the answer to. (She starts for the door) You wanna help? Stay … do
the dishes. (She leaves. He looks around a bit, then goes to the sink and starts to do
the dishes) (Cut
to the surf shop, Kai is sitting alone as Butchie enters) Kai:
Shit. Butchie:
What? Kai:
I thought John would be with you. Butchie:
Well give me a fuckin’ break, Kai. Kai:
Well, he must’ve wandered off when I
was sleeping. I looked for him at your motel. Butchie:
Well I spent the night at my mom’s
house. He could be anywhere in the fuckin’ world by now. Kai:
Don't stop there. Butchie:
Well did he freak out about boning
you? Kai:
He doesn’t even know what boning
means.
Maybe I’d have wound up showing him, except my pussy overheated like it
was cooking on a George Forman grill. My tits too, like they were in a blast
furnace. Butchie:
You got hardware in your box. Kai:
So? Butchie: Your nipple rings. My implants were overheating too,
Kai, as you know, that’s why my head was going up in smoke. FUCK! Kai:
It was! We were in my trailer
figuring out he was a virgin, and John says: “See god Kai”. Just like that. And
then I went into some hallucinatory state. And there was smoke coming
our of your head. Butchie:
Fuck! Do you wanna go looking for him with me? Kai:
Yeah, I’ll go with you. Butchie:
Alright, let’s check out the pier. Kai:
You know, for not knowing what the
word meant, I wonder how John got the idea to bone me? Butchie:
I was trying to tell him that he
picked a nice person to like. (Cut to Bill’s house, bill is alone and just bringing in the morning paper and reads the headline) Bill:
Look at this, Zip. This fills me
with misgivings …Bandying words like “miracle” in the newspaper headline.
This
can only attract new types of shitheel into that boy’s life. Which wasn’t short
of shitheels before. We’re going to keep our distance. I’m informing you of
that right now! We’re not going to jockey for attention or be looked at as a
nuisance like I saw last night in Shaun’s grandmother’s eyes when I was over at
that house. Or stand in the street, amongst mopes like that Hawaiian and his
belt-high sidekick. Or the soup brigade from that motel. (Bill is
re-arranging the bubble-wrap padding on the spiral stairs) I have plently
of tasks and chores within this house that I’ve been derelict attending to that
will more than occupy our time. (He grabs some duct tape to secure the
bubble-wrap and tears it with his teeth. The piece of tape sticks to his lower
lip) Now there, that’s it. That’s the doomsday scenario. (Grabbing the
tape to pull it off his lip) May this pain come to Clinton for disgracing
the oval office. (rips the tape off
quickly) Oh, Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ. (A long pause and sigh) That
will never happen again. A sequence of events so complicated, that Butchie Yost
at the age of 10 could help the only woman in the world that when I pass a
remark about some airhead pisspot that I collar, she has the sweetness to
recall, “I wonder if it’s that Yost boy who used to help me with my groceries?” I throw him a break because of my darling
Lois, keep one eye out after, since I un-loosed him in society… That that – lookin’ out for Butchie – would later cross my path with Shaun when Butchie
became a junkie dumpster tenant. Now who in his right mind would believe that
that sequence of events could be repeated? That boy is gone from us. (Turns
and looks up the spiral stairs) And I don’t regret one thing! Children or not, the time I spent with you…
was the joy of my life. (Cut to the pier, where Butchie and Kai are questioning 3 young boys) Butchie:
I’ve got a favor guys, I’m looking
for a buddy of mine. We lost our friend. He’s about yay tall, collar up like
this, walks around: “What do you want Butchie Yost?” Have you seen a guy looks
like that around here? (boys shake their heads – no) No? Alright well if you do,
I want you to tell this lady right here. Can you do that? Nice. All right, give
me a pound. (knocks fists with all three) Boom, boom, boom. Mario
brothers! I got the high score on that. (he and Kai walk away) The
first place he asked me what I wanted, right there. “What do you want, Butchie
Yost” Kai:
Should we put up a plaque? (As
they walk down the pier, they take turns gently kicking each other in the butt) (Cut
to the Yost house. Linc is still there alone. He appears to be going through
the family’s photos and mementos. Dr Smith walks in, Linc pretends to be
cleaning a photo) Smith:
Hello. Linc:
Shaun’s surfing. Mrs. Yost’s at
work. Smith:
And you’re pitching in, cleaning
house. Linc:
What, is this a restricted area? Smith:
Well that…that wouldn’t be for me to
say. (Linc turns and looks at Smith,
Smith approaches him with his hand out) Michael Smith. (they shake) Linc:
Linc Stark. We ah, didn’t introduce
ourselves at the hospital … when you were throwing me off the floor. Smith:
Well, that was for me to say.
Linc:
People need room to do their jobs.
Of course, your job’s over now though. Am I right? Unless you get sued?
Negligent oversight, incompetent evaluation, emotionally damaging for the
family. Smith:
I’m not here to protect my ass. Linc:
That’s a plus for the Yosts. Now
that Shaunie’s out of the woods, they’ve got new hills to climb. They don’t
have time for hangers-on and losers making the trip any tougher. Linc:
Not by blood. Smith:
Maybe you just smell it in the
water. Linc:
Will that make me dangerous? Smith:
To whatever got Shaun well? I
wouldn’t think so, no. Which does it
make me, Linc? A loser or a hanger-on if I believe a miracle might have got him
well? Linc:
It makes you a fanatic. Smith:
Oh. (leaving) Tell Mrs. Yost
and Shaun I stopped by. Linc:
Absolutely. (Cut
to the surf shop. Cissy is minding the store. Shaun and a few boys are watching
a surf video in the store while a couple guys are snooping around) Cissy:
What are you looking for? Guy:
I’m looking for a wetsuit. Cissy:
(nodding to a corner) Full suits, shorties, 2-mils, 3.2’s. Guy:
Thanks. Boy
1: (watching the video) Sick! Boy
2: Yost totally surfs faster than
Fanning. Boy
1: Dude, my grandmother surfs faster
than Fanning, and she died last year. Boy
2: So what? Yost died yesterday. Cissy:
(She’s been watching the 2
strangers in the shop, then addresses one of them) Who’s that wetsuit for? Guy:
It’s for me. (He’s looking at the
women’s suits) Cissy:
Hmm. Surfing in drag is a little
rough on your nuts. Guy:
No, she asked me to look for one for
her too – my girlfriend. Cissy:
(Making the hand motions for
jerking off) Is that what you call
your hand – your girlfriend? I guess
it’s a slow day for train wrecks, right? You pieces of shit. You fucking
newspaper assholes. (She grabs a camera from the 2nd guy and
struggles with him) Guy
2: That’s my camera lady! Cissy:
I’ll give you your camera and you
take it outside. Guy:
(on his way out) How are you feeling, Shaun? How’s your neck? Shaun:
Get outta here, you piece of shit! Cissy:
(Kicking at the guy) Fuck out! Get the fuck out! Boy
1: Ohh, miracle boy said “shit”. Shaun:
(slaps at boy 1) You get the hell out of here too. Look at the mess
you made. Boy
1: What’d I do? (The boys all
file out) Shaun:
Stupid fuckers. Cissy:
Hey. (Cut to an arroyo out in the brush somewhere. We see John, laying prostrate on the ground with blood on his jacket and shirt. Vietnam Joe is approaching and sees John.) Joe:
Oh fuck me! (rushes to John’s
side) Jesus, what happened? (looks John over a bit) It’s not that
bad. I’m going to get you some help. I’m going to my truck. It’s just up here.
It’s, it’s not just up here, but I’ll be back in just a minute. I, I promise
I’ll be back for you. (John is hurt, struggles a bit and manages a smile for
Joe) (Cut
to Bill’s house as Bill goes to answer the door) Bill:
(Yelling to the door) Hey I’m in my underwear and I don’t want any
magazines. Butchie:
It’s me Bill! Bill:
That’s Butchie! (opening the
door) You in trouble? Butchie:
No! Bill:
Well my testicles are on display to
the neighborhood. Get in here! (Butchie and Kai come in) Butchie:
Uh, that guy John is missing. My
surf student from Cincinnati. Bill:
Where’s your son? Butchie:
He was surfing with Sammy and them,
my mom said this morning. (Kai grabs her cellphone and starts dialing. Bill:
In relation to that guy gone
missing, when’s the last time you saw Shaun? Butchie:
Last night. Kai:
(On the phone) It’s Kai, Cissy. If you haven’t noticed, I’m late for
work. I hear Shaunie got wet this morning, he get any good ones? Bill:
She’s got a couple of brains, what’s
she doing with you? Kai:
(giving them a thumbs up sign) Anyways, I’m helping Butchie look for his loopy
friend. Butchie:
At the shop, Shaunie? (Kai nods
yes) Bill:
Not abducted, that was my concern.
Now this John who is missing, and not a pervert, what do you know about him? Butchie:
Well he’s got a credit card with his
name on it. Kai:
Yeah, John Monad. Bill:
(dressing in the next room) You found no occasion to garner further information
from other ID? (Kai is motioning to Butchie about the padded spiral
staircase. Butchie points upstairs and mouths “wife” and makes the "throat-slashed”
motion for “dead”. Then he points to the padded stair and pretends to bang his
head against it. Butchie:
Uh, well I asked him straight out
for it Bill, and he says: “I don’t know Butchie instead”. Bill:
Well that would raise the question
of mental health. (comes back into the room) Kai:
Should we notify the cops he’s lost? Bill:
Huh? You got a photograph? Butchie:
Uuhhhhh, no. Bill:
Anyways, they won’t list him for 24
hours. I’ll give them an informal heads-upping. Not that they pay attention to
me anyway. Butchie:
OK.
Well thanks Bill. Bill:
It’s his attitude anyways. He’s
going to end up on the wrong end of a nightstick. (mimicking John) “I got my eye on you!”. Kai:
See ya Bill. Bill:
Whoa!. What’s your goddamn hurry? Butchie:
We gotta go look for John! Bill: Well what do I look like, an information booth,
bolted to the floor? Am I a recent amputee? Butchie:
Do you want to go look with us? Bill:
How’s that going to augment the
effectiveness? We divide the community into quadrants! Butchie:
Good, great. (to Kai) That
way Bill can’t hear us! Bill:
Sarcastic. That’s how he got so
successful. (to the birds) OK,
going out to help these two! Something new every day! (Cut to Cass’ hotel room, she is entering to find Mitch waiting for her.) Mitch:
Closed! Cass:
The Alternative Apac-a-thary? Mitch:
Apothecary. And they’re pretty
casual about their business hours. What do you think about … my levitation? Cass:
I don’t know what to think .. like
always. Mitch:
Well you feel, over the years, I don’t
know, like, that maybe something about you is special. And you assume, I guess,
that the thing that’s special has to do with what you’re good at. Cass:
Surfing. Mitch:
And now, maybe it turns out I go up
in the air, Shaun heals, and maybe all along this feeling of being special
wasn’t about athletics or years of spiritual discipline. Maybe it’s about
family. Cass:
Do you wanna stay here, Mitch? Mitch:
Do you, you see what I’m saying? Cass:
Ya Mitch:
Right Cass:
I do. Mitch:
I go up in the air… Cass:
Shaunie heals. Yeah I know. Mitch:
And the joker in the deck is this ..
ah … John. Cass:
Butchie’s friend. Mitch:
What’s his connection to the family.
(pause) Cause whenever I see him he looks at me like he knows something
about me that I haven’t even known myself. Cass:
He sure is an amazing surfer. Mitch:
How would you know that? Cass:
Oh … don’t get a restraining order
or anything, but I have been watching you. A couple of days ago? Mitch:
Oh, yeah, when you were watching
me. Maybe it is about how I surf. And
Shaun being my grandson. I, I’d like to stay here, I think. I mean … just till
we get this all kind of … figured out.
I don’t mean, you know, every single night? Cass:
I wonder if … the store’s open yet?
Where you get your poultice? (Cut to the pier. We see Dr Smith sitting alone looking around. He picks up a bicycle and starts to leave) (Cut
to Joe’s van, as he’s driving John into town. John is sitting up, but appears
to be a little out of it) Joe:
Eh, I’m sorry about the bumps. I’m
sorry, I can’t help. (Joe is almost frantic, he’s looking over at John,
very worried) John:
Pull over, Joe. Joe, pull over. (Joe
quickly pulls over. John takes Joe’s hand and places it on his side, over his
wound) You can help. (Joe looks at John incredulously) (Cut
to Cass’ hotel room, she is alone. She sits on the bed, appears upset. She
slowly sinks to the floor, looking around and getting more upset. Suddenly we
see what appears to be her “vision” of the scene where John was found by Joe.
Next she/we see Joe’s van, and the image of John laying on the ground, then an
image of John at the radio transmitter. Next we see John putting Joe’s hand on
his wound, and images of the Snug Harbor Motel. Suddenly she gets up, grabs her
things, and heads out of the room.) (Cut
to a street, where we see Dr Smith, on foot now, walking past a small house
where a woman is pruning some roses.)
Woman:
Good afternoon. |