This is the first act of an early draft of a satirical scif fi script I had been developing. This version runs long and is rife with stereotypes and cliches. I've since trimmed it down, but now I'm letting it ferment with the idea turning it into something of a satirical musical farce.
On black:
OVERTURE: Theme music begins, simple at first, building in scale and complexity, culminating on:
Ext earth from orbit
Mother Earth lying full and luminous against the backdrop of space. The crescendo of music falls to silence. A meteor flickers across the globe, disappearing into the atmosphere.
EXT Farm land - sunset
A red sun hangs low over a wide horizon of dead farmland and thorny weeds, steady chorus of insects filling the air.
Ext squash patch - CONTINUOUS
Perched on a decrepit wood fence, two crows caw at a tattered scarecrow standing in the center of a small squash patch. Dropping onto the motley vegetables, a streak flashes in the sky above them. Seconds later the ground explodes, birds clamoring into the air as the meteor skips across the soil.
Insects now silent, smoke and dirt settle to reveal a short scar cutting through the crop. As the circadian sounds resume the two crows re-alight on the fence, keeping their distance from the scarecrow now tilted ominously towards them.
As the sun creeps below the horizon a long shadow stretches over the patch, falling into a knee-deep smoking crater.
Fade out
O.s. Sfx of insects continues
FADE IN:
EXT squash patch - sunrise
Early morning light spills across dried crops. The crows are gone but the chorus of insects continues. The trace of the meteor's impact is now covered by a new growth of weeds.
EXT farm house - MORNING
An old farm house stands alone in the golden field, sun-bleached vintage pickup decaying on a dirt driveway. A screen door opens and a man buttoning his overalls steps onto a creaking, partially constructed porch. Mumbling, he descends the stairs and disappears behind the house. The sound of a motor coughs to life as a rusted red tractor rolls into view.
Ext fARM land - MORNING
ELIAH Jakobs, late 40's, a heavyset, softly built man with red sun-wrinkled face and unevenly cut grey-streaked hair bounces behind the large wheel.
Eliah
Just a few chores around the farm today, Red. Maybe even a trip into town if you're up for it. You hang in there. Soon enough all these troubles gonna pack up and go the way they came. Just you wait.
Eliah's tractor rattles on across dead farmland.
FADE TO:
EXT farm land - AFTERNOON
Tractor in the distance, Eliah hefts up a collapsed part of a decrepit wood fence, stabilizing it with loose planks.
ELIAH
That's good fence. A few sticks is all you need and you're good as new. Don't need no money to make you work. Just good honest work.
Gathering the remaining planks under his arm he continues down the length of the rickety property fence, testing it occasionally with a good shake.
Just on the other side runs a parallel fence, seven feet high, made of steel and wire. Beyond it, acres and acres of lush green farmland as far as the eye can see, the sounds of insects replaced by the mechanical chatter of sprinklers. Mounted to the fence, a large billboard advertising 'Green Valley Growers, Homogenizing the World since 1984.'
EXT FARM LAND - AFTERNOON
Eliah crawls on hands and knees dropping seeds one at a time into the ground, brushing them over with dirt, watering them with a hose dragged behind him. Crows caw in the distance.
Spying a figure silhouetted against the horizon, Eliah bounds to his feet, dropping the hose as the water floods his seeds.
ELIAH
Go on! You get away from here!
Running to his truck, he fumbles out a double-barrel shotgun from the passenger seat, pops it open, fishes in the glove box separating red shells from road flares, chewing tobacco, flasks, inhalers, and a tangle of lures and weights. Fumbling a shell in one chamber, he slams the barrel closed, takes careful aims at the figure, and fires. CLICK.
ELIAH
Shoot! Shoot!
Finger on the other trigger. Aims again. Fires. BOOM! The blast echoes across the field.
EXT SQUASH PATCH - cONTINUOUS
The scarecrow explodes with the rain of pellets, spinning around its stake, scattering a dozen cawing crows into the air. Eliah bounds up out of breath.
ELIAH
Bet that woke you up old friend. No more sleeping on the job for you.
Setting the gun down, he yanks the tattered scarecrow back to a vertical position, it's faded overalls nearly identical to his own. He scoops a moth-eaten hat from the ground, dusts it off and plops it down on the limp flour sack of a head.
ELIAH
Just need a little help getting back on your feet is all. All these birds and bugs eatin' the place up, I'd be tired too. But we gotta' keep an eye on Lulu. Don't want nothin' eaten' her up, no sir.
Wiping his head with a dirty handkerchief, he threads between large colorful squash to the center of the patch, stopping before an immense, bloated squash the size of a boulder. Grooming stray weeds around her he stumbles into the nearby crater now covered by a thick patch of weeds. Ripping out the cluster, he crushes them in his large calloused hands.
ELIAH
If it ain't birds, it's gophers and weeds. Ain't there nothin' in this world that's got a mind to help?
The sound of insects grows.
FaDE OUT
O.s. Sfx of insects continues
FADE IN:
EXT farm LAND - DAY
Clouds drift across a wide blue sky, plowing shadows across the golden field. Sounds of chopping echo across the expanse.
EXT FARM HOUSE - DAY
Chopping the last of a pile of fencing timber, Eliah walks to the unfinished porch and pries away more wood. Noticing a cloud of dust as a car winds down his driveway, he waits for it axe in hand.
A large black 4x4 pickup truck skids to a stop in front of the house. The tinted passenger window rolls down. CIMARRON T. Gibbs juts his gaunt, buzz cut, 60-year old head out to peer through the dust at the side of the truck.
CIMARRON
Jeezus in Hell, Carlyle! Ain't even three weeks old and you're already driving it to the grave.
CARLYLE Gibbs, late 30's, sticks his mullet-cut, ace-bandaged face out the driver-side window to confirm the damage.
Carlyle
Oh c'mon dad. It's a four by. It's built for off roadin'.
CIMARRON
Off-roadin' my ass! We're still on a road, you dummy. I didn't give you twenty thousand dollars for a new truck just to make it dirty.
Turning to face his son, Cimmaron notices Eliah, axe firmly clenched, standing next to Carlyle's jutting head.
CIMARRON
Eliah! Don't you do nothing stupid. A little rock salt buck shot is one thing, but don't you go doin' no good with that axe. Carlyle, get your damn head back in the car!
Yanking him back inside, Carlyle's cap is knocked to the ground. Cimarron scowls out the driver's window at Eliah.
CIMARRON
Consortium's withdrawing their offer Eli. I just talked to Macy down at the Tax Assessors office and he says they're foreclosing within the month. Soon as the bank takes over this is gonna be just one more Green Valley holding.
eLIAH
Not gonna' lose the farm, Cimmaron.
CIMARRON
How's that Eli? You growin' some miracle in here? Look at this mess. Can't even take care of yourself without everyone helpin' you out.
ELIAH
That ain't true. It's you and your boy makin all this trouble. Well, no more. I got Lulu now. She's gonna fix everything right as rain.
CIMARRON
Lulu? Lulu? You go and get yourself a lawyer? You know damn well there ain't a thing you can prove...
CARLYLE
Shit pop, retard's just talkin' about his squash. Been namin' them since we were kids.
CIMARRON
Christ Eli, you talkin' about the fair!?! That ain't going to make a rat's ass difference all the back tax you owe. What's the prize this year, a thousand dollars? Ain't a drop in the bucket.
CARLYLE
Besides, been twenty years since anyone beat a Green Valley Grower. And it sure as hell ain't gonna be a dumb handicap.
CIMARRON
Carlyle, why don't you shut your hole. Ain't you done enough damage already?
You should've sold the farm when you had the chance, Eli. Hell, your daddy should've sold it when he had the chance. Biggest mistake he ever made letting it go to you. Mighta' been worth something then. Ain't worth a bug's fart now.
ELIAH
Don't you say nothing bad 'bout my daddy, Cimmaron T. Gibbs!
CIMARRON
All right Eli. Didn't mean no harm.
CARLYLE
Shit Eli, the biggest mistake your poppa ever made was having you.
CIMARRON
Now don't you rile him up again.
CARLYLE
Aw, I'm just having some fun. What's he gonna do this time...?
The axe slams down on the roof above Carlyle's head, denting hard into the metal.
CARLYLE
What the...You crazy son of a...!!
The axe crashes down again as Carlyle hunches as low as he can get trying to wrench the truck into gear.
ELIAH
Don't you talk about my daddy...!!
CARLYLE
Crazy son of a...!
CIMARRON
Eli...Carlyle...Goddamnit!!
Kicking the truck into gear, they fishtail into a donut and bound down the road in a cloud of dust, horn blaring. Eliah looks down at the Green Valley Farms hat run over in the dirt, then back to the dismantled porch.
ELIAH
God rewards honest hard work, Lulu. That's what they always told me.
DISSOLVE TO:
ExT county road - DAY
A two-lane black-top cuts through a sea of fenced-in farmland. Billboards advertising fast food chains, roadside attractions, farm equipment and a drive-in litter the stretch of road. Two semis hauling Green Valley Growers trailers blow by a puttering red tractor in a cloud of dust and diesel.
EXT downtown - DAY
An old corner market sits across the street from a brand new 24-7 service station/food-mart/franchise. Behind the food-mart, Green Valley Grower trailers are parked in a large green field with banners advertising the 45th Annual County Fair. Eliah pulls the tractor in front of the old market.
INT market - DAY
CHUCK Henry, greying 50-year old store owner, and ALYSA Barnsworth, gum-chewing 20-year old clerk, stare from behind the counter at a crowd of activity across the street.
Alysa
I hear they're going to put in one of those fun parks for kids. You know, with a room of plastic balls for jumping on and all. Probably put in a slide too. Or maybe one of those mechanical clowns.
CHUCK
Mechanical clown, huh?
Eliah walks through the door, barely distracting them.
CHUCK
Howdy Eliah.
Eliah shuffles up to the counter, eyes lowered. Chuck disengages himself as Alysa snaps and blows her gum.
CHUCK
Your usual then?
Eliah nods sheepishly.
CHUCK
Well girl, don't just stand there making bubbles. We have a customer.
ALYSA
A customer, huh? You hear that Eli? You're a customer now.
Popping one more bubble, she turns, grabs a basket and disappears down the isles. Eliah fidgets, fingering a lollypop display on the counter. Handwritten note reads: "Free lollys for kids. One per customer please".
CHUCK
Oh, go on Eliah. You know you can always take one. Doesn't matter any how. A free lolly pop just doesn't carry the same attraction these days as a mechanical clown.
Chuck discards the sign and watches a station wagon pull in across the street, unloading a pile of kids. Alysa returns, dropping the full basket on the counter, and goes back to her post. As Chuck bags the groceries, Alysa watches Eliah from the corner of her eye, smacking her gum as Eli sucks on a lolly pop. Chuck hands the bags to Eliah.
CHUCK
Haven't seen you around in a while Eli. Everything all right? You know, we'd sure hate to ever see the farm leave the family and all, knowin' how hard your momma and dad worked that land, but maybe a change would do you some good. God knows time's ripe for it, all the new things croppin' up around here.
Eliah turns towards the door. Chuck changes the topic.
CHUCK
Well, Fair's next week. I hear you got a real catch this year. Seems like just yesterday your daddy won with that big old pumpkin of his. Probably the last time anyone beat a Green Valley Grower. Heck, you just keep on trying, Eli. Remember what your daddy always said...
Eliah disappears out the door.
ALYSA
Hey Eli! You be careful with that lolly now. There's gum in it.
Chuck looks at her.
ALYSA
I don't want him to swallow it.
EXT FARM HOUSE - lATER
The tractor is parked half behind the house.
INT FARM HOUSE kitchen - CONTINUOUS
Wood-paneled kitchen cluttered with stacks of folded bags, collapsed boxes, empty cans. Eliah adds the bags to the pile, three boxes of oatmeal to a dozen in the pantry, a handful of oranges in an old refrigerator. Keeping one, he peels it over the sink throwing the rinds out the open window.
ELIAH
Me and Lulu doin' fine on our own. Don't need nobodies help. No sir.
Popping the first orange slice in his mouth he notices something waving in the wind just outside the window. Gathering his slices he goes out the kitchen door.
EXT back of the house - CONTINUOUS
Beneath the window sprouting from a thick cover of old orange rinds is an unusual, tall green stalk of a weed.
ELIAH
Look at you, funny little sprout.
Eliah bends down giving it a short tug. It doesn't budge. Yanking again, the weed loosens from the soil revealing a longer root snaking further through the yard. Dropping shiny orange wedges in the dirt behind him, he stomps across the ground, unraveling an enormous root system all the way back to the squash patch.
ELIAH
No you don't. Not my baby!
Attacking the weeds in a rage, he kicks up a cloud of dirt tracing the roots back to the crater. Yanking them out, he balls the whole mass of tubular webbing in his hands.
ELIAH
Ain't no bank, no Gibb and no weed gonna take this farm away from me!
Leaning against the old wood fence to catch his breath, they both fall crashing to the ground.
FADE OUT
FADE IN:
EXT FARM LAND - MORNING
The sound of insects pervades the morning. Golden light illuminates a rash of green intruding on the yellow field.
EXT FARM HOUSE - CONTINUOUS
More green has encroached in patches around the house.
ExT SQUASH PATCH - cONTINUOUS
Boots stand in front of the squash patch run rampant with 3-foot high stalks, the dented axe hanging from Eliah's hand.
EXT SQUASH PATCH - lATER
Eliah hauls a bundle of weeds from the patch having cut a clearing 10 feet all around, tall weeds extending into the surrounding field. Wiping sweat from the back of his sun-burned neck he tosses two blackened squash into the crater.
ELIAH
Go rest with mamma and pappa now.
Down at his feet he sees a new sprout already peeking from the exposed crater. Amidst the noise of insects a crow caws.
EXT FARM HOUSE - dAY
Noises from the house. Eliah knocks open the kitchen door, carrying two stacked apple crates of sloshing containers.
EXT SQUASH PATCH - conTINUOUS
Trudging across dirt and weeds, he drops the crates by the fence, pulls out a container, uncaps it, sniffs it, and dumps it on the outlying weeds. Then pulls out another.
EXT SQUASH PATCH - LATER
Pesticide and herbicide bottles lie strewn amongst the weeds, insects droning on in the wavering heat. Eliah drains the last bottle into the saturated ground. Wiping his running eyes and nose, wet hands on stained overalls, he steps over the muddy moat to the dry center of the patch, plops down under the scarecrow, leans against Lulu and closes his eyes.
fade out
FADE IN:
EXT SQUASH PATCH - NIGHT
A full moon drapes blue light across the patch, night silent but for the sound of snoring. Not a single insect is heard.
EXT SQUASH PATCH - MORNING
Weeds as high and as far as the eye can see surround the squash patch. The silence is broken by sudden rustling.
ELIAH
Wha...!? No! NO!!
Eliah thrusts his head through a 6-foot wall of green. Forcing his way to the tractor, he stands on a wheel to see weeds reaching out all the way to the farmhouse.
ELIAH
Like a plague from the good book!
EXT FARM LAND - DAY
The tractor cleaves a brown line through the sea of green.
EXT FARM HOUSE - DAY
The tractor is parked in front of the house, as sounds emanate from within. Kicking open the front door, Eliah strides across the wobbling porch, more crates in hand.
As an approaching car crunches through the weeds, Eliah stands on the tractor to see Carlyle's green-stained 4x4 swerve to a stop. Cimmaron sticks his head out the window.
CIMARRON
Eliah, that you? What in hell is going on here? You got weeds the size of sequoias sproutin' outta' your bean-hole!
Carlyle shoves the driver side door open into the wall of growth and stands on the foot runner to survey the damage.
CARLYLE
God-damn! The whole farm's taken up with it. Consortium's sure ain't gonna like this. Shit pop, you figure we're gonna' have to fix all this? If so, I ain't gonna...
CIMARRON
Carlyle, sit down and cork it! We ain't gotta' do shit.
CIMARRON
Look Eli, I don't know what you got growin here', but you sure as hell better put a stop to it before any this stuff come sproutin' up our way. You think this is some cockamamie idea to save the farm, you can think again. We got all the paperwork right here, just waitin' for a J. Hancock to sign it over. Seein' you got your hands full, we'll just settle this at the fair.
CARLYLE
Yeah, right after you lose!
CIMARRON
Carlyle, just get in the car dammit! Let's get on back!
Carlyle drops inside, slams the door, and guns the truck, knocking over stalks as it cuts a new path through the weeds.
ELIAH
Daddy used to say when troubles get to be too much for one person sometimes it's best to share it with others. Don't think I'd mind sharing it with them.
Eliah fires up the tractor and disappears into the weeds.
EXT SQUASH PATCH - EVENING
The setting sun pitches red shadows across dying weed-choked squash. At the center of the patch sit a pop-up tent, two Coleman lanterns, a shovel, the axe, water bottles and a bag of oranges. Eliah wraps a large black plastic tarp over Lulu.
ELIAH
Gotta hold out just a little longer Lulu. Tuck you in nice and safe, just like momma used to and come mornin' everything'll be right as rain. Never mind those Gibbs and bankers. Once those judges get a good look at you, we'll be sure winners. I may not know much 'bout taxes and paperwork, but I know a thousand's more than a lot.
Picking up an orange he walks the perimeter of the patch, peeling rind and pulling shoots as he goes.
EXT SQUASH PATCH - night
Colemans ablaze in the dark, Eliah paces back and forth in the silent night.
EXT SQUASH PATCH - MORNING
Eliah sits against the scarecrow sound asleep, both tilting slowly over to until they crash to the ground. He wakes with a start, dead weeds and squash heaped around him, Lulu bulging under the black tarp. He stands and stretches, around the small patch the golden fields are now lush and green.
ELIAH
Don't think I can hold out another night Lulu. Best get you to the fairgrounds today. Never hurt anyone bein' too early...
Lifting the tarp he reveals Lulu is now shriveled and brown.
ELIAH
Lulu, oh no, oh no...
Scanning frantically for the cause of death he rolls her over to expose a network of weeds spearing her from underground. He collapses, wrapping his arms around her, sobbing as his crushing weight slowly deflates the brown hollow husk.
FaDE OUT.
EXT fARM HOUSE - AFTERNOON
The farm house pokes above the horizontal line of billowing green. Heavy grey clouds bluster overhead.
InT farm house kitchen - CONTINUOUS
Eliah sits slumps in a chair, a Quaker smiling at him from a box of oatmeal on the table next to an uneaten bowl of cereal and a peeled orange. Rinds in hand, he rises and shuffles to the sink as weeds sway below the open window.
ELIAH
Oh Lulu, bet no one's ever seen a beauty like you. Not even a Green Valley Grower. Now you're with momma and dad in God's own garden, and I'm all alone. I just don't know what to do. I worked hard like they told me. Worked hard like them! Now it's all bein' taken away. All because I'm not smart like them!!
Throwing the peels into the weeds he goes into a rage, tearing open cupboards and pantries, knocking over piles, ripping, dumping, stomping everything in reach, finally collapsing atop the vast mess spread across the floor.
ELIAH
Lord, I don't want to be alone no more. Can I just be just like everyone else?
Thunder sounds in the distance.
INT FARM HOUSE KITCHEN - eVENING
Rainfall patters from a leak in the roof, dripping on Eliah's soaked head. Lifting himself from the mess, he slides a pot under the leak, closes the window and squeaks out of the kitchen. Water strikes the pot like a drum as weeds pound in simpatico against the glass.
INT FARM HOUSE KITCHEN - early MORNING
Wind and rain pound on the house, a cacophony of leaks echoing through the kitchen. Eliah hefts a wobbling pot, spilling a trail of water to the sink as he dumps it out. Outside the window is a wall of solid green.
INT FARM HOUSE KITCHEN - lATER
A tea kettle whistles and goes silent, water is poured. The smiling Quaker is picked up and turned upside down. Eliah, in his bath robe, weary and half-asleep, watches steam curling from the bowl of oatmeal. The shotgun lies in his lap, and next to his bowl and spoon are two red shells. He runs his hand absently along his unshaven chin, then stops, staring. Outside the kitchen window, the wall of green is punctuated with specks of red. Setting down the gun, he rises, opens the back door and finds hundreds of small, red berries.
ELIAH
Looks just like Christmas.
He plucks one off, holds it up to his nose to smell it, then pops it in his mouth, rolling it around his tongue. Plucking a few more, he closes the door and ambles back to the table. Rolling the berries around in his hand, his eyes turn to the spoon, then the shotgun shells. He drops the berries in the cereal and reaches for the spoon.
INT FARM HOUSE KITCHEN - lATER
From the back door Eliah is filling the bucket with berries Reaches his arm deep into the wall of green, he wrestles with something and pulls out a berry the size of a tomato.
ELIAH
Would you look at that.
He takes a bite, squirting red juice down his face and shirt.
ELIAH
Will wonders never cease. Sweet as can be. I think I'll be having you for dinner, I do.
He thrusts his arm back into the dense foliage.
INT FARM HOUSE living room - late AFTERNOON
The sound of sizzling. Sliced fruit simmering in a pan. Eli flips the fruit in the pan like a seasoned chef, and holds it under his nose.
ELIAH
Never was much of a cook before. Don't see why now, bein' so easy. Whatever happens to the farm, guess I won't go hungry, and if that's one less thing for momma to worry about then that's a good thing.
ext FARM HOUSE - niGHT
Moonlight casts a pale glow over the gently rustling sea of weeds, glimpses of illumination coming from the windows buried behind the green.
EXT FARM HOUSE - MORNING
Golden sunlight illuminates a vast garden of green and red, broken only by a breath of smoke drifting from the chimney.
int FARM HOUSE living room - cONTINUOUS
Something large thumps on the floor. A red watermelon sized fruit rolls by. Followed by another, then a third.
INT FARM HOUSE KITCHEN - laTER
The table is set, plates dressed with assorted berries. Eliah pulls an oatmeal berry cobbler from the oven, and sets it on the table, next to a glass of berry juice. Outside, just audible is the rising and falling whine of an engine.
EXT SQUASH PATCH
The scarecrow's head peers above a sea of green and red that flows over the billboard and into the neighboring fields. A crop duster rises and dips over the encroaching green, spraying herbicides, while people hack at weeds below.
INT FARM HOUSE LIVING ROOM
A faded picture sits on a fireplace mantle, underneath the shot gun now mounted to the wall; in the photo, a farmer about Eli's age kneels next to a beaming boy and an enormous pumpkin, behind them hangs the 3rd Annual County Fair banner. Clinking sounds from the kitchen.
INT FARM HOUSE KITCHEN
The table is made up again, but more extravagant. Plates set with silverware and table linen. Candles are lit, bowls with small berries, larger fruit sliced and laid out, fruit peels garnish the plate, half a fruit stuffed with steamed pulp and toasted seeds, and the main course, a turkey-sized melon, baked to a golden brown. Eliah wipes down a dusty wine glass and fills it with deep red juice.
ELIAH
Maybe they were right. Maybe this is the Lord's reward. I still don't know what to do about the farm. All the eatin in the world is not going to fix my troubles.
He stares at his distorted reflection caught in the glass.
ELIAH
Well, I may not as smart as some, but I know what's good when I taste it, and if what's good to me is good to others, than I guess we're not all that different afterall.
He sips from the wine glass and dines.
EXT fair lands - days later
The 33rd Annual County Fair banner is staked in the ground of a dirt clearing clogged with RVs, booths, concession stands, bandstands, latrines, and a Merry-Go-Round. Hundreds of people mill about, while a large crowd gathers around a long banquet table filled with food and activity.
EXT judges table - CONTINUOUS
A panel of white-haired judges sit at the table eating with red-stained hands while giant, motley vegetables are measured and weighed.
CIMARRON (O.S.)
Hang on now! Just hang on dammit!
Cimmaron and Carlyle fight through the crowd, shoving other candidates out of their way, knocking other entries over as they dump a giant flaccid brown pumpkin before the judges.
jUDGE #1
Cimarron? Where've you been? Judgin's been over near an hour now. Too late to enter whatever you got there. You boys go on and grab a plate of food over there and pull up a chair. Gotta be the best tastin' food we've had in a while.
CIMARRON
I ain't got time to sit on my ass and eat, Gil! And I ain't here to enter the damn fair, because as you can see what I got here is shit! My boys been spending the last two days fighting weeds like you've never seen. They sprung up from Eliah's place and got into about everything we have. The Grower's Consortium's gonna need a word with that boy, all the damage been done.
JUDGE #1
Calm down Cimm. You're coming off half-cocked. We don't need any wild accusations spoiling the fair. That boy worked hard, and it's only fair he get his chance to shine, unless that is, you got a problem sharing the spot light for a change.
CARLYLE
What? You mean you Eli won?
JUDGE #2
If I had my way he would've. We just couldn't figure out what it was he'd grown, so he was dis-qualified from the contest. But damn if what he has ain't the best tasting thing I've ever had. You boys really outta' try a bite. Everyone's havin' it.
CIMARRON
I don't believe this! Weeds are chokin' us out, the town fool's growin who the hell knows what, and you guys are just eatin' and grinnin' like everything's perfect. Well I got news for you. Thing's ain't perfect and as soon as the Consortium's had their say, there's a lot's going to change round here.
Gil points to a crowd of officials gathered on the bandstand.
JUDGE #1
Fraid the Consortium's already had their word with Eli. They just signed him up for about the biggest deal I ever heard of. Seems they're sittin' and grinnin' about his find as much as we are.
JUDGE #2
Looks like you're right about that change Eli. Got more than weeds to worry about. Might be Eli will runnin' you out this time around.
Cimmaron and Carlyle watch as Eli, dressed in the old suit and tie from his father's photo, serves fruit and shakes red-stained hands with men in business suits. Behind them, the Green Valley banner rippling in the breeze.
FADE TO BLACK.
End Act I.
No comments:
Post a Comment