Blackthorne--Episode 88

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Blackthorne

Cinemagenic Eighty-Eight

Brawlers

“Why then, O brawling love, O loving hate,

O anything of nothing first create.”

--William Shakespeare.

1(sound cue) guitar chord

2(medium close-up) Thor, his face reddening,

pulling off his shirt: Don’t give me any more of your 

pacifist bullshit! You know damn well what this about--

so just jerk your shirt off and get your fists up...or I 

will lay into you right where you stand.

3(two-shot) Salina came up to Buck and kissed him.

4(close-up) Thor: Only a slut would do that in public.

5(sound cue) Thor’s men laughing over blues guitar

slide.

6(medium close-up) Salina: Hey, these days, sluts

are something you’d know a lot about.

7(extreme close-up) Buck’s eyes simmering with fury

8(medium wide shot) Buck unbuttoning his shirt, his

back to the camera. Salina facing him, forcing a 

small grin, her chin quivering. Thor in the background,

slightly out of focus.

9(sound cue) harmonica huffing, accelerating slowly,

like a train picking up speed.

10(cut to overhead crane shot) People became 

hushed as they pushed back, letting the circle widen. 

Buck stepped further into it.

11( two steadicam operators) the fight will be handled

in wide shots, close-ups, and alternating POV’s. The

action will simply be described:

Thor came in slowly, circling the bigger man, dancing,

his fists windmilling. Buck stood flat-footed, turning to

face Thor at every point.

Thor: Come on, big man, now’s the time--show me 

how tough you are.

Buck didn’t even have his fists up.

Someone in the crowd yelled: Damn, are you two

fellers going to dance or fight?

Buck turned his head to answer, and Thor rushed

in, tackling him low, bringing the hunter to the boards.

The gunfighter hammered at Buck’s stomach, hitting

him with stiff punches. Buck swung a wide fist up 

from the floor, and it collided with the side of Thor’s

head, spinning him off. Buck partially sat up,

gulping for air. Thor leaped on top of him, twisting

a half-nelson over his head. Buck muscled up to

his knees, with Thor cursing and squeezing on him.

He squirmed around in the other’s grip, partially

facing him. The hunter wrapped his long thick arms

around the gunfighter, beginning to apply pressure 

of his own, squeezing the marrow out of Thor’s

ribs; both men immobile, frozen, straining and

squeezing, their eyes rolled back in the sockets,

their faces turning purple. One could have heard

a horseshoe nail drop.

           Thor exploded--kicking, squirming and

screaming. Buck held fast. The hardcase kicked

him in the leg, but Buck’s grip remained iron. Thor,

in a frenzy, kicked again and again, slamming the

hard heel of his shiny boot into Buck’s knee cap.

Buck howled and lurched sideways, rolling across
the floor, still clutching the smaller man. In the

middle of the third roll, with Buck on top, Thor

managed to rock backwards, and punched the

hunter in the throat. Buck let go and flopped over

on his back, as Thor scurried free.

              Buck stayed down as the hardcase

bounced to his feet. Buck got up to his hands and

knees. Thor leaped in and kicked him in the butt, the

thud filling the room, Thor’s gang cheered him on.

The hunter rocked up onto his shaky knees. Thor

kicked him in the small of the back. Buck caught his

balance with one arm--the black boot lashed out 

toward his stomach. Buck caught it with his other

hand. Thor jerked back, but Buck had hold of his

whole leg.

           As if in slow motion, the fighters pulled their

fist behind their ears and swung simultaneously.

Their clenched white-knuckled fists whizzed past

each other in the dead air. Thor’s blow landed

squarely on Buck’s jaw, and the hunter delivered

a smashing blow to the gunfighter’s groin. Buck’s

head snapped back, and the room began to spin.

...to be continued.

Glenn Buttkus

Posted over at dVerse Poets Pub