Scene 3.02 - Stranger In Town
EST: EXT. Main Street, Cowtown - Sundown.
FADE IN
CG: November 24th, 1869, Kansas Lowlands
(A man arrives at the saloon door, silhouetted and all. Shopkeepers and townspeople look on, curious. It is TEX RANGER, paladin for the poor and champion of the underprivileged. He wears a large white hat. He steps into the saloon. There is a long bar with a huge mirror behind it, a large saloon window, several poker tables, a few dining tables and a dusty, old player piano pushed into the shadows in the corner, near the entrance. The scene starts so slow; nearly plausable -- and quickly evolves into the fast and ludicrous.)
TEX RANGER
Why, good evening, barkeep. What a wondrous place you have here. I shall have a tall sass-par-rilly, please.
(Flips him a coin, rests his saddle pack on a barstool, sips the foamy drink and surveys the room. The bartender bites the coin, amazed. No one else gives him much notice, although the ruckus at a table seating two drunken, boisterous poker players eventually causes him to saunter over and intervene. Girls mill about, dressed as men. The poker match escalates into a shouting match and a stand-off. All eyes drift over to the pair at the poker table. One is a blonde of Asian descent, the other of African descent. They are both dressed in identical, two-tone suede, frilled Western outfits. Identical in all ways except where the light brown is on one outfit, it is dark brown and vise-versa. I suppose that's all to say about that for now, Kind Reader, you'll learn more later.)
SYNDEE SNOW
Sandee, you are a-bluffin'. No way you got a high straight.
SANDEE SNOW
Read 'em and weep. They as high as they git. Straight flush.
SYNDEE SNOW
(Stands, the chair falls over.) You cheated!
SANDEE SNOW
(Does the same, eye to eye; shouts.) I did not!
(It escalates, TEX RANGER, soda in hand, crosses over.)
TEX RANGER
Why, thank you, sir. (Tips WHISKEY BARR to the bartender's delight, sips foam and slowly saunters over, sipping all the while, listening to the row at the poker table.) Pardon me, ladies-
SYNDEE SNOW
(Hand on knife hilt:) I outta gut you fer cheatin me!
SANDEE SNOW
(Hand on holster:) Not if'n you got a bellyful o' lead, you won't!
SYNDEE SNOW
Sandee, you are the most low-down, cattle-rustlin', man-stealin', double-talkin', back-stabbin', street-hustlin', dog-kickin', poker-cheatin' varmit this side of the Em, Eye, Crooked Letter, Crooked Letter, Eye, Crooked Letter Crooked Letter, Eye, Humpback, Humpback, Eye River!
(...That spells Mississippi, for all you city slickers out there yonder.)
SANDEE SNOW
And Syndee, you're the most ill-born, double-dealin', church-burnin', baby-teasin', card-peekin', jail-breakin', pappy-slappin', bet-welchin' rascal this side of the Arkansas River!
(OUR-Kansas River... When in Rome...)
MS: TRIO
(As SANDEE SNOW gestures with the free hand not on her holster, her wildly-flaying hand nearly hits TEX RANGER. He and his soda mug lean back out of the way, just narrowly escaping being hit. This movement catches SYNDEE’S eye and she regards TEX RANGER for the first time. SANDEE SNOW doesn’t even notice him until SYNDEE speaks to him. He lowers his mug and licks the foam from his lips. Face it, it’s 1869. The neighboring Colorado Territory is yet to be granted statehood, Wichita isn’t officially a city, and the Civil War is like, kinda like over already. Industry has surpassed agriculture and progressive education is mandated throughout the new state. Union soldiers and emancipated slaves flock to Kansas, seeking reward via the Homestead Act. Genocide of the Native American population is rampant, and bison are also being slaughtered by white tourists at an alarming pace, in attempts to starve-out the country’s native inhabitants. Washington is run by secret societies and carpetbaggers, and the temperance movement is beginning to get a foothold across various states of the Midwest. The populist movement is beginning, and farmers are struggling to tame the vicious Kansas landscape, hoping for an economic solution to a weak Union dollar. Dime-store novels portraying the Wild West has brought droves of young men and women seeking adventure and possibly, a better life. Immigration is becoming a national issue, and capital punishment is swift; a man is hanged-by-the-neck-until-dead in the town square for any crime as serious as cattle-rustling or horse-thievery. Women’s rights are non-existent and Jim Crow laws are on the books everywhere -- even in Kansas, a progressive state whose flag was woven with Union colors and a place that boasts of the town of Nicodemus, a town solely populated by emancipated slaves and abolitionists. A bottle of good whisky costs sixteen cents, a bag of white flour costs three cents and a night which consists of drinking, gambling and an overnight stay in one of the bordellos in the neighboring town of Delano (dee-lay’-no) -- just West of the OUR-Kansas River -- might cost a man up to a whole dollar if his tastes ain't all that refined and all. Such is the way of the gun in the center of our continent in the 93rd year of our nation, 1869.)
TEX RANGER
Ladies, please! Why, I'm sure you can work out your differences in a more-civilized manner!
SYNDEE SNOW
And jus' who are (Drawn out:) you, city slicker?
SANDEE SNOW
(Backs him to the door:) Yeah, who are you, Mr. East-coast, dew-behind-the-ear-lookin', cipher-makin', fancy-pantsin', tooth-cappin', buck-tooth, nostril-hair-weavin', cab-door-eared, ten-leeter-hat cowboy? You jus' mind yer own business or you're lie-bull to spill that sodee-pop you got there.
TEX RANGER
(Sets drink atop dusty piano.) Well, I did not come in here for a fight-
SYNDEE SNOW
(Backing him up too, then walking circles around him, inspecting him:) A little too late fer that, stranger. Tsk! You didn't size 'im up atall, girl. He's a fat-toothed, bubble-butted, cauliflowered-eared, celery-chompin', bean-pole lookin', gumbo-breath, pea-pod, eye-squintin', nose-pickin', hub-cap-belt-buckle-wearin' rhinestone-cowboy-wannabe. Mister, you done stepped in some deep manure that won't scrape-off yer dime-store, corner-roach-killin' boots all that easy.
SANDEE SNOW
Yeah, ye cow-erd! You're takin' on the Snow sisters! Now put up chur dukes! (Touches her chin.) I want you to take the first swing! Come on, jus' hid me once, I'm beggin' ya!
TEX RANGER
Why, this is simply asinine-
SANDEE SNOW-
(Intense:) Whatdja call me?
TEX RANGER
Nothing! I mean, you two were about to fight each other only a second ago, and now you both want to start a row with me?
SYNDEE SNOW
Row? (Like cow, pow, wow and plow...) What's a row?
SANDEE SNOW
Must be wunna dem words det dey learn all up at Hillside High.
SYNDEE SNOW
Figgers. Mister, we're talkin' 'bout smackin' some tail. Pertickalee yours. Sandee’s my twin sister, I kin' scrap wit' her any day. Now, lily-bottomed, rose-smellin', side-steppin', overgold-wearin', spur-jinglin' pansies like you don't come along in these parts very off’n, so whatcha say you take me on? (Rolls up sleeves, puts up dukes.) Come on, show me whatcha got! What's wrong, skii-erred?
TEX RANGER
Heavens! I refuse to spar with women -- even if you’re twins. (Noting that one is African-American, one is Asian-American. Maybe there’s more to that than I’m letting on, but then again, what's it to anyone? People didn't ask too many questions back then...) Why, It wouldn't be gentlemanly. Not to mention it wouldn't be a fair-fight whatsoever.
SANDEE SNOW
Fair? Hmmph! Too good to hit a lady, huh? What if this lady said yo' momma's so fat that when she sits around the house, she sits around the house?
(Reactions in saloon like no one had ever heard it before. Maybe it's new in these here parts -- the jury's still out on that one.)
TEX RANGER
Well, I suppose that you would be entitled to your opinion, mam.
(The girls close in. MARSHALL LAW enters, only WHISKEY BARR notices.)
SANDEE SNOW
What if I said that you were born so ugly, the doc'ter slapped cho' momma.
(Reactions. The girls give each other respect knuckles. You know, the fist bump. After all, these are the area's legendary Two-Tone Twins. They compliment one another, like leather and wood on a buck-board. That is, when they're not scrappin' over poker. They smile.)
TEX RANGER
Then I would say, sticks and stones may break my bones, but names will never hurt me.
SYNDEE SNOW
I kin put a hurtin' on ya, stranger!
TEX RANGER
Look, you ladies obviously have abandoned your argument with each other in favor of chiding me. Now, I cannot, I shan't, and I will not indulge in any such behavior now or in the future. I'm dreadfully sorry to have deprived the two of you of what you may consider to be moderate amusement, but if you want a man who will engage in a scuffle, why, you'll have to simply look elsewhere.
(Turns to walk out of the saloon, almost to his bar stool by the door. He gets three steps away from the saddle pack. The sheriff, who had moved to the bar, looks to the bartender and nods, knowingly.)
SYNDEE SNOW
Yeah Sandee, he's a cow-erd all right. He's gonna ride away and go cry to his fat momma.
SANDEE SNOW
Ride away on what? His horse is so lame, it got rejected by the glue factory!
(Cackles, reactions. TEX stops cold. He takes his hands from the saddle pack. He slowly turns. Men and women in saloon get quiet and take notice.)
TEX RANGER
(Clears throat.) Excuse me, mam. Would you care to repeat what you just said about-?
(He distractedly gestures to his horse outside, not believing his ears.)
SANDEE SNOW
I care to say, that chore broke-back, nappy-haired, cross-eyed, Shetland-lookin' mare is so lame that when you took her out to pasture, the pasture passed her up!
(They laugh, nearly rolling, giving each other high-and-low-fives. TEX RANGER unbuckles six-shooter belt. The guns drop to the floor. He puts his hands out at his sides.)
TEX RANGER
I kindly and most-emphatically request that you ladies please retract that previous statement, if you know what is good for-
SYNDEE SNOW
(Gets in his face.) And I kindly an-mos’-enfart-tick-ly request that you stop talkin' and start swingin'! Come on, just hit me once, I'm beggin’ ya.
SANDEE SNOW
(Also in his face.) Yeah, gimme ya best shot!
SYNDEE SNOW
Yeah, I shore hope you can hit better than your horse can ride.
SANDEE SNOW
Oh, she rides alright. Yeah, his horse is so easy, she's a pit-stop on the Pony Express!
(They laugh. When SANDEE SNOW looks back, she is hit squarely on the jaw by TEX RANGER.)
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