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“There is no bad whiskey--there are only some whiskeys that
aren’t as good as others.”--Raymond Chandler.
1(medium wide shot) Interior of the General Store. Inside, surrounded
by mercantile dust & odors, wide shelves of canned goods, calico
dresses, bolts of bold cottons on fat rolls, barrels of pickles & pigs feet,
stacks of potted meat, jars of stick candy & chocolate hunks, dried fruit,
fat pork sausages hanging on long links, with shiny new farm tools
mounted on rough-hewn beams overhead, & well oiled polished rifles
resting on brass pegs,
2(medium close-up) Wallace’s face changed, relaxed;
3(two-shot) as he pulled down a dun earthen jug from a dark corner
behind colorful jars of homemade jam,
4(close-up) and he cheerfully poured out sticky-sweet pungent home--
distilled white whiskey into tall tin cups.
5(sound cue) clarinet riff & saloon player piano.
6(medium close-up) Buck accepted a cup & quickly took three big gulps
of the who-hit-John. His eyes bugged out a bit, & his cheeks fluttered, as
he gasped for air, having survived the alcoholic fire in his throat as it
puddled molten in his surprised stomach.
--Buck: Oooowheeew, damn your eyes, this juice could kill ticks!
7(close-up) Wallace smiling, then it faded quickly as he sipped his drink.
--Too bad about Barnes, hope to hell he pulls through.
8(two-shot) The storekeeper got Buck’s attention.
--Wallace: He’s a good man, & a damned good barber. Guess he just
pumped his jaw once too much about Baron Bronson. Barbers have
loose lips, worse than bartenders. Maybe there’s a lesson to be
9(close-up) Buck: No disrespect, Pard, but that’s a full crock of shit.
10(close-up) Wallace raised his eyebrows like two caterpillars with broken
backs, narrowing his eyes.
11(two-shot) after a tense moment,
--Buck: It didn’t gallop in like that.
--Wallace, calmly: My gut tells me those two gunnies ride for Bronson.
--Buck: Yeah, they probably do.
--Wallace: His fucking highness has never been so blatant before; this
is a real shift in his reign of power.
12(sound cue) Harmonica & snare drum.
--Those cowardly assholes were not gunning for Barnes.
--What are you muttering about?
15(two-shot) Both men stare at each other while silently sipping
--Buck: Pretty sure they were after me.
--Wallace: Why? Bronson doesn’t know you yet?
--Buck: You heard me talking to the sheriff--I had a row with his
little brother, Paully, over to the pig wallow. It ended with me tossing
his woman-battering butt out a second story window.
--Wallace: Yeah, that might could be, but shit like that happens over
there all the time.
16(medium close-up) Buck:
--I know when lead has my name on it.
17(medium close-up) Wallace:
--You think pretty highly of yourself.
18(sound cue) cello, saxophone & piano.
19(close-up) Buck chuckling:
--Damn, old man, why don’t you tell me what you really think?
--Wallace: My boy, you only been in town a couple of hours & you
already got scorpions in your boots; that is fucked up.
--Buck: Uh-huh, I hear that dog barking.
--I suppose this all means you’ll be riding on.
--Too many people would like that. No, think I’ll be sticking
around for a piece.
23(sound cue) Indian snake rattle & jazz brushing.
Posted over on dVerse Poets OLN
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