Scene 7.18 - Buried Treasure
EST: EXT. Jungle Isle - Day
(The trio: Lazily-floating downstream to the heart of a plateau, dropping into a vast depression at the foot of a steep mountain covered in jungle greenery. They're playing soft-rock. Atop a barren, rocky pile at the bend of the river, a clean-cut, young, African-American lad with a pistol sits cross-legged, aiming the gun at the group, motioning them to shore at a nearby sandbar.)
POKE
(Plinking on cowbell with fingernails, stroking CHONGI's face, sings:) ...forest primeval, I've been in love with you. Whazzup, cuz?
CAMPY
The sky. You three should know the drill by now, I got the gun so you need to listen to me -- Stop with the singin' and park that dinghy on the sand there and y'all strip down to your skivvy's and no sudden moves. Not you, sweetheart, I know you ain't packin' nuthin' in that little loincloth and... maracas you got there... Okay men, I see you ain't packin' heat and you snuck-by all them man-eating natives back there, so why you here? Why you out here so far from everyone with a local hottie in tow? What you after?
POKE
At the top of that mountain is an ancient key; a key to a great vault in an ancient city, holding a great treasure-
(Rings cowbell for the heck of it!)
CAMPY
I ain't heard about no treasure other than mine, and I ain't sharin' inny o' mine now.
MONTY
Whatever treasure you got, you can keep it.
CAMPY
You're dern right I'm-a keepin' it! I earned it! What she whisperin' to ya?
POKE
You were left here by your shipmates, to guard their treasure?
CAMPY
My treasure. Come tomorrow, it will be sixty days. Legally abandoned; legally mine.
MONTY
You dolt! You were left here to guard the treasure, all right -- in spirit -- you're marooned here with cannibals and you were left to die so your wannabe pirate ghost could use hell's powers to guard it. That's the pirate's way... Didn't you see that one coming?
CAMPY
My mates will be back; they said so themselves...
MONTY
Yeah, when you're a corpse... Fifteen Men On A Dead Man's Chest -- don't you read pirate stories none?
CAMPY
I kint read none too good. I kin scribe my name real good tho.
(The men look to one another, even the blind one nods, knowing.)
MONTY
We kin fix that non-readin' thing of yours easy enough.
CAMPY
Nah! Nah! You all needs to git! This is my treasure and I ain't sharin' none. 'Cept maybe with the quiet one wit' the nice eyes, you kin leave her behind if'n youse wants to...
(MONTY easily takes gun from CAMPY, opens the chamber -- it's always been unloaded. He hands it back to the young bluffer.)
MONTY
Stop waving that flintlock around like you have a reason to use it -- and what's with having no bullets, anyway?
CAMPY
I used the steel ball they gave me to kill a boar last week. I shore was awful hungry then.
MONTY
They left you the bullet so you could do yourself in; or don't you get that? You were blackballed -- your pirate crew voted you out.
CAMPY
If'n they was leavin' me here to guard the treasure just so I would die, then why didn't them Injuns in the forest do me in long ago?
CHONGI
(Closed captioned:) He's the reason they say, "When the wine is strong, the meat is rotten..."
POKE
The lady says that the locals here think you are cursed and don't want nothing to do with you or your treasure.
CAMPY
Cursed? How you know 'bout dat? What choo know about my treasure?
MONTY
All I know is that even tho that chest buried on the other side of this rock pile is probably only buried a foot deep in the sand, considering the way you've been nervously-eye-ing it like you should move it; it also must be light enough for one man to carry, especially a scrawny bean-pole like you. Yet it is still prolly heavy-enough to make a slow task indeed for an inexperienced shipman 59 days out of the water rowing upstream on a stolen dinghy. Especially if'n you stole my boat, my light-steppin' ass would not only find you and sink you and that dinghy and your treasure to the bottom of those piranha-infested cesspools, but I would also make you a tombstone to ensure that every one of them pirate mates of yours who came back look for their loot could curse your bones for all time for runnin' out on them like the cow-...
CAMPY
Okay! Okay! I jus' wanna get off this rock. I ain'a coward -- I'll go up that mountain and get that key with youse and you all kin help me cart back the chest to your ship and if'n I ever do git it unlocked, you can all each have an equal share with me of whatever's in it. Fair enough?
POKE
(Laughing:) You're guarding a treasure chest with an unloaded gun, and you don't even know what you are guarding?
CAMPY
That ain' so funny old dude, I figger if'n they had me guardin' it, there hasta be sum-thin impoe-tant in it. They woodint tell me 'bout it none when I axed about it long time ago. This is the first time theyz left it on land since I been wit 'em. It's worth sumptin.
MONTY
Who are you, young man, and why should we even let you join us? What do you got to offer, boy? We don't want your treasure, we got some of our own to git. Why shouldn't we just leave you here starving and clueless, like we found you?
(Now, Gentle Reader, before you start calling me a racist and get all up-in-arms about me writing "I shore" and "boy" and "son" and "gunny" and "slavery" references -- truly, I didn't even think to make CAMPY an African-American until I was writing the next chapter and tying up loose ends. All the slang I wrote to that point was written to be spoken by a boy of no specific race. I realize, upon re-reading this and taking it in as if I didn't know otherwise, that it may sound like I'm a grand-dragon in my spare time, but rest assured, I am not. I read; that should suffice. Authors know what they write, and I'm okay with promoting harmonious interracial existence any chance I get. As you will:)
CAMPY
Me name's Campy an' I ain't clueless, Hippie-Dude, I got smarts.
POKE
Smarts?
CAMPY
Street smarts. I'm really good at not being noticed.
MONTY
That remains to be seen. (Pause, eyeball-scan; muttered:) Or is it, not seen? Okay, Son, get yer gear and your treasure box and load it on the boat. You kin stay here with Poke and his girl while I go up the mountain...
CAMPY
You should let me go with you, they kin dig up the treasure on their own, it ain' even buried deep or nuthin'.
MONTY
Thanks, but I can do this alone.
POKE
Take the boy along, Grass-Burner, he looks downright peak-id -- it will be good for him to get a little exercise...
MONTY
Only so you may get a little sexercise...
POKE
I'll dig for treasure, like he says...
MONTY
I know what you call digging, Old Man, this ain't it. Get his treasure; you still owe me. You think you should go up wit' me, lad?
CAMPY
True that, you should really let me go with you, I knows that mountain. I knows some of the less-traveled paths. Short-cuts!
MONTY
Oh yeah?
CAMPY
Been here two months, how you think I got by? Smarts. Believe me, you'll thank me later.
MONTY
I seriously doubt that.
CUT TO: Later.
EXT: Secret Hemp Grotto
(MONTY and CAMPY are each smoking a tremendously-huge blunt rolled in a banana leaf or something. There is large and potent examples of cannabis everywhere. Both are lying on a soft mossy carpet, looking skyward. MONTY lies next to an odd sword. It has gold-alloy hilt with a ceramic blade; and has serrations that are only uniform in their permanent sharpness.)
CAMPY
You're welcome.
MONTY
We need to take summa this back.
CAMPY
I got two gunny sacks wit' me.
MONTY
These robes were made for haulin' and haulin's what they'll do.
CAMPY
Boy, I never saw no monster like the one in that mountain there. Fangs, claws, lotsa hair -- That thing could-a kilt us fer-sure!
MONTY
I never saw nuthin' like that neither. Glad I didn't hafta kill it, jus' distract it. You did real good sneakin'-by real chill and all. An' I never knew that the Lost City's Royal Vault key was gonna be shaped like a sword. Old Man never said squat about nunivit.
CAMPY
Maybe he didn't know.
MONTY
Campy, I've learned not to assume jack about the Old Man. He knew; he's just a stubborn old bastard that likes hearing adventure stories.
CAMPY
You mean he wanted us to fight that thing?
MONTY
Yeah, but, what he really wants is to get into the loincloth of a certain little native girl we know. He thought the monster would buy him plenny o' time. I figger he should be just-about-past first base by now; what choo say we load up some bud in them gunny sacks and we get back to interruptin' him before he can loiter around short-stop looking for a condom and what-not?
CAMPY
Sounds fair to me. If nobody else is gettin' any on this island, why should he?
MONTY
That's one way to look at it, but I'd rather think it is more like, everything has a place and a right time, and this ain't one for nookie.
CAMPY
Yeah! Yeah!
DISSOLVE TO:
POKE
Yeah! Yeah! (Beat.) Oh, no! No! You two weren't spost to be back for an hour, at least... I was counting on your... curiosities...
MONTY
Get used to being disappointed, Old Man. (Throws to his feet a large sack.) We brought you a present to make up for it, tho...
(CAMPY blazes a fabulous blunt and smiles, blowing a fat smoke ring.)
CHONGI
(Closed captioned:) Oh goody! So worth the wait!
FTB