Scene 3.08 - Swamp Thing
EST: Daybreak on the flat horizon
INT. Barbershop/EXT. Black Prairie - Early Morning.
(MARSHALL LAW is getting shaved and TEX RANGER is seated for a haircut.)
MARSHALL LAW
Tex, I wancha ta watch out for that Injun.
TEX RANGER
Why? Has he done something wrong?
MARSHALL LAW
Dunno. What I do know is that he’s not telling us the whole story. When he was talking about the dying fish last night, his eyes betrayed him. It was like watchin' a guilty man thinkin' up an alabi. Something else is going on.
TEX RANGER
Do you believe what he said about the- (Eyes TODD SWEENY.) the encounter in the cave? If Rusty’s well really does lead to the cave in Luna Hill, do you think that’s where the- perpetrators might have gone?
(The barber sits MARSHALL LAW upward and begins putting a thick, white paste on MARSHALL LAW’s head.)
MARSHALL LAW
Dunno, Tex. Either through the well passage or the Madman's Mine entrance. What in tarnation are you doing, Todd Sweeny?
TODD SWEENY
(Slightly fem, a little unbalanced:) It’s a new hair tonic. Oh, try it out, free of charge. Doesn’t it feel cool? We leave the paste on for a few minutes and it opens up the pores and follicles in your scalp so you can grow hair again. Like how it feels?
MARSHALL LAW
Well, it shore doesn’t sting me like a warren-raidin' rattlesnake -- not like all yer other dern hair-tonics do.
TODD SWEENY
No, no. No alcohol to close them pores, only an exotic extract from the cocoa plant and just a little, teensy bit of laxative. It’s called Dr. Abernathy’s Mystical Hair Paste and Follicle Foliant. The Columbian Clinical Academy of Hair Restoration Scientists all swear by it. It's all the rage in South America.
MARSHALL LAW
Do them Sout’ Amearrikins git full heads of hair?
TODD SWEENY
Oooh-yesss. Sheriff, they got dark, thick hair like gorillas.
MARSHALL LAW
What’s a gorilaz?
TEX RANGER
It’s like a big monkey.
MARSHALL LAW
(Laughs.) Oh yes, a monkey, like the one who walked the tight-rope at the state fair last year. That was a funny little monkey. He even smoked a little bitty cigar. Now what was that monkey’s name?
TODD SWEENY
Spooky.
MARSHALL LAW
Oh yeah. Spooky. Spooky the Spider Monkey. Ooh-wee-ooo-oo, he was a hoot. You should’a seen it Tex, the little critter could jump through hoops of fire, down a beer and light a cigar, then dance to one o' them squeeze boxes!
TODD SWEENY
That tonic getting any warmer on your head, Marshall?
MARSHALL LAW
Mmmmmm...
TODD SWEENY
Wanna leave it on for a few more minutes?
MARSHALL LAW
Well, okay, if’n’ ya ain’t chargin’ me fer it.
TODD SWEENY
And what about you, Mr. Stranger-In-Town?
MARSHALL LAW
That there’s Tex, my new deputy.
TODD SWEENY
Oooh. La-laa! A man in uniform. You wanna Dutch Boy, Chili-Bowl or a (He shakes his hips.) High 'N Tight?
TEX RANGER
Just a little off the top, please.
TODD SWEENY
(He feels TEX RANGER'S scalp with both hands, massages it.) Suit yourself, but I bet a mohawk would look sweet on you.
MARSHALL LAW
Hey! My head is tingling!
TODD SWEENY
That just means it’s working, sweetie. Leave it alone, let it do its job. Kick back, enjoy it.
MARSHALL LAW
(Smiling, kicking the chair back a notch like a recliner:) Yeah, it feels kinda good.
TODD SWEENY
(He teases TEX RANGER’S hair.) It all feels good, Marshall. Like I always say, if it feels good, do it. So what’s your story, Tex? (Flat:) Did you bring your... wife to town?
TEX RANGER
Actually, I’m not married.
TODD SWEENY
(Animated:) Really? Lean your head back, honey.
TEX RANGER
I’m a bachelor.
TODD SWEENY
Really? Do you work-out? Well, I’m single, too. Why doncha say we could meet sometime and have drinks and I could show you all the ins-and-outs around here. And believe you me, I like the ins more than the outs!
(TODD giggles.)
TEX RANGER
To be quite honest, I don’t think going around and chasing skirt with you is a very wise move. I’ve kinda got my eye on someone already.
TODD SWEENY
(Gossip?) Oh, really?
TEX RANGER
Yeah.
TODD SWEENY
(He leans in.) Anyone I know?
TEX RANGER
Well, maybe. (Looks over to MARSHALL LAW.) Prob'ly.
MARSHALL LAW
Hey, my head’s all numb and I can’t taste my lips anymore. I’m still here, right?
TODD SWEENY
Whoops! Guess I left Dr. Abernathy’s Tonic on a little too long! One sec, Handsome... Well, one batch wasted is no matter. I got lots and lots more of it in back -- a whole covered-wagon-full! (Quickly washes-off MARSHALL LAW’S head.) You just be sure to tell all your follicly-challenged friends to stop by here for their next treatment of hair tonic if they want to impress the ladies with a full head of hair now, ya hear?
MARSHALL LAW
Yes, I can feel it working! My head feels great! I’ll tell all my lodge brothers all 'bout it come bingo night!
TODD SWEENY
(Brushing-off TEX RANGER, figuratively and literally.) You do that, Sheriff. I got plenty. There’s at least a few hundred pounds of that paste in the back store-room. I bought it all in bulk and got one heck of a deal. You help me move it; you’ll get your cut, okay?
MARSHALL LAW
So if I bring someone in, you’ll treat me for free, right?
TODD SWEENY
Absolutely. So long as you bring this handsome young deputy back occasionally. (Combs fingers through TEX’S hair before removing the cape about his neck.) Rrrr! He’s cute. You won’t need any hair tonic anytime soon. (Hand to TEX’s chest.) I’m sure you’re just a big furry bear under there!
TEX RANGER
(Gets it, stands, rips cape from neck, tosses to chair as other hand rests on holster.) Hey, my six-shooters shoot straight. I don’t play like that. Dude.
TODD SWEENY
Mmmm. Oh well, it won’t spoil my fun. (Looks him over.) I can always fantasize. Mmmmm.
MARSHALL LAW
What do I owe you for the shave, Todd?
TODD SWEENY
On the house, sweetie, as long as you keep bringing me new business. Especially strong ones like this tiger. Rrrr-rrrr!
TEX RANGER
Fah-getta-bout-it. Here, Daffodil.
(TEX flips him two bits.)
TODD SWEENY
Ooooh! And a big tipper to boot! (Bites coin, it's real!) You don’t happen to have a younger brother, do you?
MARSHALL LAW
Come on, let’s go.
TEX RANGER
I’m all yours, Marshall, but as you well know, I’m still kinda new ‘round these here parts. What’s this Black Prairie place we’re headin’ to yonder? What’s it all about?
CUT TO:
(The men stand in a massive oil field; sans trees, sans grass; the crude oil yet undrilled. Thousands of barrels of crude have already seeped to the surface, and millions of barrels lie below. All the men have slept, showered and changed. POCACHICALOT has ditched the beads, rabbit-skin moccasins and soft-leather loincloth and is wearing a different Native American outfit, one less-stealthy and yet more-suited for rugged terrain, with leather-strip-fringed pants and a jerkin in the style of Tonto from The Lone Ranger. As in the barbershop, MARSHALL LAW and TEX RANGER are dressed in 1930's and 1940s Western wear that’s being passed-off as authentic, Nineteenth-Century garb somehow. For now, they are clean and fresh. They hold lanterns and rifles and wear smiles, excited to be on safari. DOC BONEBRAKE is scientifically decked-out like a macabre Dr. Livingston and is one-butterfly-net-short of a Chauncey Gardener. Moreover, he’s got an elephant gun. The men survey the land and begin sludging through the oily mud. POCACHICALOT is packing a hatchet and a bow and arrow, and ironically-wears a war bonnet stereotypical of most other movies that are wholly-ignorant of the realities behind Native American culture. Did I mention that POCACHICALOT can be cast as white as the virgin snow so long as he’s sure to be wearing war paint in every scene?)
MS: GROUP
(Speaking of: Once I aced a one-credit-hour Saturday class in college called Ethnic Diversity or something like that.That early morning, after everyone else said their piece and I was almost drifting-off to sleep, head leaning, nearly falling from my seat into the aisle, my Hispanic instructor was coincidentally walking from the back of the class to the front and he put a sympathetic, steadying, mentoring hand on my shoulder -- the bald, back of my head being as Caucasian as they come -- he solicited my cultural perspective. Every group got their say in context of what their group brought to the great melting-pot/tossed salad, so, not to leave us palefaces out, he finally asked, “What did white man bring to this continent?” Without hesitation, and as precisely as a half-asleep student could possibly understand, I simply replied in all honesty: “Guns?” )
MARSHALL LAW
The Black Prairie, the site of the signing of the Kansa Indian Treaty of 1831. Acres and acres of this sludge, jus’ seepin’-out-of the ground, layin’-waste to miles of perfectly good farmland. Nothing grows here. (Pause. Like he knows it, just doesn’t know exactly:) Now, when did your people get kicked-out, Chief?
POCACHICALOT
From the fertile bison hunting grounds of our ancestors, or from this wasteland your people called a reservation?
MARSHALL LAW
When didja git booted-out from this here particular spot?
POCACHICALOT
(Signing:) My tribe lived here for five hundred moons and were ordered to leave last winter by many blue-coats. The matter is currently being settled by your Kansas Supreme Court. However, it looks like another white man’s greed will push my people from their home once again. (He points:) They’ve moved us past the Mine of the Paleface Madman to the rocky, barren land of Many-Moon Hill, where crows gather in large murders and coyotes go crazy and howl in the daytime.
MARSHALL LAW
Ya see, Tex, this all started ‘fore I got here, but it seems Pocachicalot’s people used to own all the land ‘round here as far as yer eye kin see in ev'ry direction, but Pocachicalot’s grandpappy lost property rights to ‘bout half of it in a shell game about fifty years ago to one o' Dee-lay’-no's founders, Redbeard Greenwich (sic: green’-witch) McFadden.
POCACHICALOT
Red-beard man with forked tongue and handle-bar mustache loaded grandfather up on fire water and practice much strange medicine. Our native word for men like your Redbeard McFadden is Kemosabe-Tammany-Watergate, which mean, “Pale-face honkey who slips you a mickey in your watered-down, over-priced fire-water while dealin’ a fifth ace from the bottom of a marked deck.”
DOC BONEBRAKE
Well. Suffice to say that a few million head of slaughtered bison and miles of homesteaded farmland later, people realized that the muck in this swamp is actually petroleum, and Pocachicalot and his people got kicked-out once again.
TEX RANGER
What’s pee-troll-ee-yum, Doc?
DOC BONEBRAKE
Why, it’s all around us! See the massive fumes rising like great Grecian columns to the sky? There’s a reason we asked you not to smoke while we’re here.
MARSHALL LAW
Yeah, and don’t go firing off that flash-pot, neither.
POCACHICALOT
(In Sign:) Crazy black water-smoke make young braves hunt in many strange circles and make babies cry in papoose. Squaws no make fire or cook food here. Big chief had to build his tee-pee on stilts. To feed my people, Pocachicalot had to buy many unhealthy bison burgers and fried, Irish potato cooked in greasy bear-fat from greedy white man. Now Pocachicalot have heartburn, and acid-reflux and arterial sclerosis. Pocachicalot hate this place. Much bad omen here. Chief cannot even smoke favorite peace-pipe. This place is much bad medicine. My people are happy they are away from this cursed land, even if new land seem much, much worse. Maybe chief say too much. Crazy black water-smoke make Pocachicalot have many strange dream and talk with crazy-tongue.
TEX RANGER
Are we going in circles? My head is feeling funny.
DOC BONEBRAKE
Right now, most lantern fuel, candle wax and axle grease comes from whale blubber, or sometimes tallow, occasionally beeswax. If we have to bring it all the way down from the French-Canadian Provinces, it costs a pretty penny. If we have to process it from our cattle, it’s messy and inconvenient. But that’s all gonna change someday. Train-oil, hmmph. For the last decade or so, scientists have been tinkering with crude oil to see if it perhaps might be a better axle grease, and who knows? (Taps his unlit lantern.) This recently-developed Kerosene lamp fuel might just catch-on as the fuel for other things.
TEX RANGER
I see. I got ya. We are going in circles. There’s that same treeline.
POCACHICALOT
(Not in Sign:) No. Trees all look same here. Sickly and black, like charred bison bones. Pocachicalot take white men to shortcut. Pocachicalot know all secret paths. Pocachicalot happy he can smoke peace-pipe very soon.
MARSHALL LAW
Well, the possibilities of this petroleum seem endless. No wonder the state took the land back, they got the farmland, now they want the fuel. And we call them Indian givers, go figure. Who knows? The state might even put some rail through here someday. What, with eminent domain and them locomotives and all.
DOC BONEBRAKE
Perhaps a kerosene-powered locomotive! Yes, some even figger wagons outfitted with kerosene motors might even replace the horse someday.
(TEX RANGER and MARSHALL LAW look to each other, did they hear right? They scoff visibly.)
MARSHALL LAW
Doc, I’ve heard you say some crazy things, but that’s the craziest thing I’ve heard yet. Them fumes must be gettin’ to ya. No man in his right mind would ever give up his horse.
POCACHICALOT
Shh! (Stops them.) Wait.
TEX RANGER
(Draws gun. Whispers:) What is it?
(A dog-sized monster, oily black, leaps from the treeline, lunging at the neck of MARSHALL LAW. He goes down, and barely holds the ferocious beast’s fangs at bay. POCACHICALOT manages to get a hatchet blow in on a leg, making the beast squeal. TEX RANGER manages to pull the beast away, flinging it a few feet from the men. As MARSHALL LAW gets up from the sludge, TEX RANGER fires ten bullets into the beast. The beast dies an agonizing death. DOC BONEBRAKE, meanwhile, attempts to get his flint-lock-lookin’ elephant gun loaded and leveled. He fires. Misfire. It doesn’t go off. He pulls the hammer back again, but the beast is dead-to-rights before he pulls the trigger a second time, so he lowers his weapon.)
MARSHALL LAW
Thanks, men.
TEX RANGER
(Looks at the carcass in the oily slime.) What in the name of all that’s holy is it?
POCACHICALOT
In my language, our people call it the Cujo-gone-love-canal.
TEX RANGER
What does that mean?
POCACHICALOT
It means rabid mutated coyote that only drinks black water. There are many such beasts in this land, although I never seen one attack a full-grown brave before. They usually only go after our small children.
TEX RANGER
My goodness! (Takes pictures without flash.) You’re saying the beast we’re going after is bigger than this?
POCACHICALOT
Oh, yes. The bear-god-totem, or as my tribe says, Smokey-on-anabolix, is legendary.
TEX RANGER
Now what does smokeeonannabolix mean?
POCACHICALOT
It means, rabid bear with eyes of two torches. There are legends of such beasts, and this one, the Cujo-gone-love-canal, is unfortunately commonplace to our cursed people. (Pause. He's the worst liar in the tribe; a tribe known for being particularly truthful.) I- I never thought the Smokey-on-anabolix still existed until last week when I fought one of them.
DOC BONEBRAKE
That’s strange.
MARSHALL LAW
What is strange?
DOC BONEBRAKE
This animal was wounded before it attacked us.
MARSHALL LAW
That explains its behavior.
DOC BONEBRAKE
It appears to have been wounded by the same beast that’s been attacking the livestock.
TEX RANGER
That means it’s on the move. It must be desperate to venture this way.
MARSHALL LAW
All our commotion at the well last night must have sent it in this direction to feed.
DOC BONEBRAKE
If it was headed this way, you don’t think perhaps it went for-
POCACHICALOT
My people! Summer!
(POCACHICALOT begins to run.)
MARSHALL LAW
Let’s go!
CUT TO: