Bad Intentions

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Bad Intentions Page 14

by Norman Partridge


  SFX (PISTOL COCKING)

  CLICK!

  Panel Three:

  THE BARTENDER, turning and looking plenty sheepish.

  BARTENDER

  Sorry, parson. It's been one hell of a... I mean to say —

  BROTHER JOSHUA

  Well, the Lord does test us, neighbor, and that's for certain. Why, I hear tell He tested you today with a beast of the jungle.

  HEMMRO (OS)

  Not just any beast. Was a flea-scratchin' —

  Panel Four:

  HEMMRO, shot up but not dead through.

  HEMMRO

  -banana-eatin' gunslingin' gorilla, was what it was.

  Panel Five:

  BROTHER JOSHUA HOVERING OVER HEMMRO.

  BROTHER JOSHUA

  Is it true what they say about this ape? Can it speak?

  HEMMRO

  Monjo can recite the Declaration of Independence. Sing "Yankee Doodle." Whistle "Dixie," too.

  BROTHER JOSHUA

  Then he is truly a devil to be expunged from God's earth.

  Panel Six:

  HEMMRO.

  HEMMRO

  He ain't no devil. Just a talking monkey. Ain't you boys read Professor Darwin's book? It explains the whole thing— lost valley in Africa, gorilla population cut off for centuries, parallel evolution —

  PAGE TWELVE

  Seven Panels

  Panel One:

  BROTHER JOSHUA AND HEMMRO. Brother Joshua has the Bible in his hands, and he looks more than a tad upset.

  BROTHER JOSHUA

  Don't speak that accursed word! We are the Sons of Adam, put on this here earth to save humanity from Darwin's obscene imaginings!

  HEMMRO

  I don't care if you boys are the Sons of Sitting Bull. Unless one of you is a doctor, that is.

  Panel Two:

  BROTHER JOSHUA, looking smug. The Bible is now open, and we can clearly see the tattoos on his fingers.

  BROTHER JOSHUA

  Too late for that, brother. You look about bled out. Now, tell me your Christian name, so that I may deliver your grinny-faced, buffoonish soul into our Lord's hands with a prayer.

  Panel Three:

  HEMMRO, looking pretty bad.

  HEMMRO

  My name's Hemmro.

  Panel Four:

  BROTHER JOSHUA, looking indignant.

  BROTHER JOSHUA

  I said your Christian name.

  Panel Five:

  HEMMRO, looking a tad pissed-off, for a shot-up clown.

  HEMMRO

  I'm a clown, goddammit! My goddamn name's Hemmro!

  Panel Six:

  THE GUNFIGHTING PREACHERS, opening fire.

  BROTHER JOSHUA

  The Lord shall not be mocked!

  SFX (GUNSHOTS)

  BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

  Panel Seven:

  HEMMRO AND THE SONS OF ADAM. Hemmro is pretty solidly dead. The gunfighters hover over him.

  BROTHER TIM

  I ain't never shot no man with a moniker like Hemmro.

  BROTHER FRED

  Or such big feet.

  BROTHER AMOS

  Or silk bloomers.

  BROTHER JOSHUA

  The Lord works in mysterious ways, brother, and He's always a-testin' us.

  PAGE THIRTEEN

  Five Panels

  Panel One:

  BROTHER JOSHUA EYEING THE BARTENDER, whose jaw is practically on the floor.

  BROTHER JOSHUA

  The Jezebel who left with the ape... where does she live?

  BARTENDER

  Town called Contrary, 'bout twenty miles north. Her sister's the schoolmarm. They live in a little place by the schoolhouse —

  Panel Two:

  THE BARTENDER.

  BARTENDER

  Both of 'em are wild women who don't know their place, if you ask me. Contrary's the only town in the state that would have 'em.

  Panel Three:

  THE GUNFIGHTING PREACHERS, leaving the bar.

  BROTHER TIM

  Hemmro... wasn't he the son of Noah?

  BROTHER AMOS

  Don't blaspheme, Brother Tim.

  BROTHER FRED

  What next, Brother Joshua?

  BROTHER JOSHUA

  We get to Contrary one step ahead of the monkey, and we bait a trap for his unholy behind.

  Panel Four:

  BROTHER FRED AND BROTHER JOSHUA, stepping into the street. Brother Joshua is holding up his index finger. The wind is kicking up.

  BROTHER FRED

  The ape and his gun-totin' Jezebel got a good half-hour lead on us. How can we beat 'em to Contrary?

  BROTHER JOSHUA

  Trust in the Lord, Brother Fred —

  Panel Five:

  THE BARNUM BALLOON, staked in the street.

  BROTHER JOSHUA

  — for He always provides.

  PAGE FOURTEEN

  Six Panels

  Panel One:

  MONJO AND NEVADA, riding in her wagon. Monjo's horse is tied behind, following along. In the distance, we can see the balloon.

  NEVADA

  I've corresponded with Professor Darwin concerning my own work. I'm sure if you were to seek him out —

  MONJO

  I met the man. Wanted to buy me for a university, as I understood it. Didn't seem much different from Barnum, if you ask me.

  Panel Two:

  SAME SHOT. The balloon is closer now.

  NEVADA

  That's where you're wrong —

  MONJO

  No. You're wrong. People look at me and they see a talking ape. They don't see past my mouth.

  Panel Three:

  SAME SHOT. The balloon is practically overhead.

  MONJO

  They don't see my brain. They don't figure maybe I want to think for myself.

  NEVADA

  Any woman who spends her life digging for dinosaur bones knows how that feels.

  Panel Four:

  REAR ANGLE ON THE WAGON. The balloon has passed them.

  MONJO

  Maybe... but most folks aren't trying to kill you for it.

  NEVADA

  You might be surprised.

  MONJO

  Lady, nothing surprises me.

  Panel Five:

  SAME REAR ANGLE SHOT. The balloon is further in the distance.

  NEVADA

  Not even that balloon?

  MONJO

  Especially not that balloon.

  NEVADA

  What should we do about it?

  Panel Six:

  MONJO.

  MONJO

  Slap the ribbons and lets get where we're going, 'cause it looks like trouble's gonna be waitin' for us when we get there.

  PAGE FIFTEEN

  Four Panels

  Panel One:

  Large panel. A one-room schoolhouse in the desert, ringed by mesas. A really peaceful scene, not a cloud in the sky, only the balloon hovering above the school.

  Panel Two:

  INT. SCHOOLHOUSE. The teacher, ARIZONA CARTER (Nevada's sister), has her back turned to the class. She's writing on the blackboard— the word EVOLUTION is clearly visible. There are drawings on the blackboard, too — maybe a dinosaur, a human skull, an ape, etc.

  Panel Three:

  THE KIDS IN THE CLASS. They're teenagers. A few are passing notes, cutting up. Behind the kids, through the window, we can see the balloon drifting behind a mesa.

  Panel Four:

  EXT. THE BALLOON has landed among the mesas. The Sons of Adam are staking it, tying it down.

  PAGE SIXTEEN

  Six Panels

  Panel One:

  BROTHER JOSHUA wears a sadistic smile.

  BROTHER JOSHUA

  Let's be about the Lord's business, brothers.

  Panel Two:

  BROTHER AMOS runs his thumb along the edge of a wicked Bowie knife. Maybe we just see the knife and a hand with tattooed fingers.

  Panel Three:

/>   BROTHER FRED feeds shells into a double-barreled sawed-off shotgun. Again, maybe we just see the open breech of the gun and his tattooed fingers holding shells.

  Panel Four:

  BROTHER TIM holds wrapped sticks of dynamite in each hand. Again, maybe we just see two tattooed hands, and the dynamite.

  Panel Five:

  BROTHER JOSHUA. His long black coat is pulled behind his holster, and his tattooed fingers hover over the butt of a large revolver.

  Panel Six:

  WIDE PANEL: THE SONS OF ADAM advance on the schoolhouse.

  PAGE SEVENTEEN

  Six Panels

  Panel One:

  BROTHER JOSHUA kicking in the schoolhouse door.

  SFX (DOOR BREAKING)

  WHACK!

  Panel Two:

  INT. SCHOOLROOM. A close-up of the teacher, Arizona Carter, a confused expression on her face.

  Panel Three:

  BROTHER JOSHUA, pistols blazing.

  BROTHER JOSHUA

  The Lord our God never made monkey a brother to man!

  SFX (GUNSHOTS)

  BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

  Panel Four:

  THE BLACKBOARD and the word EVOLUTION, riddled with bullet holes. Arizona is cowering next to it, but holding her ground.

  ARIZONA

  I m-might debate that...

  Panel Five:

  ARIZONA AND BROTHER JOSHUA. Arizona is holding a copy of ORIGIN OF THE SPECIES. Brother Joshua is almost nose to nose with her. He's holding his gun in one hand, the Bible in the other.

  ARIZONA

  It's all here, parson. Read it yourself.

  BROTHER JOSHUA

  But it ain't in here, little sister, and that's the only place that counts.

  Panel Six:

  ARIZONA.

  ARIZONA

  You can't hide from scientific fact.

  PAGE EIGHTEEN

  Seven Panels

  Panel One:

  BROTHER JOSHUA AND ARIZONA. Brother Joshua slaps the teacher's face with his Bible.

  BROTHER JOSHUA

  But we can banish evil from God's green earth!

  SFX (SLAP)

  WHAP!

  Panel Two-Five:

  A series of flip-card panels.

  (2)

  The pistol bucking in Brother Joshua's hand.

  (3)

  The kids in the class, horrified expressions as they watch their teacher being gunned down.

  (4)

  Brother Fred grinning like a rotten Jack O'Lantern.

  (5)

  The teacher slumped in her chair, dead. Six bullet holes in her torso form a cross.

  SFX (across panels 2-5) (GUNSHOTS)

  BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

  Panel Six:

  BROTHER JOSHUA shredding ORIGIN OF THE SPECIES.

  BROTHER JOSHUA

  The Lord has no truck with gorilla lovers!

  Panel Seven:

  ONE OF THE KIDS has slipped out of his seat and is running for the door.

  PAGE NINETEEN

  Five Panels

  Panel One:

  BROTHER AMOS AND THE KID. Amos catches the kid by the scruff of his shirt, holds his Bowie to the kid's throat.

  BROTHER AMOS

  What say you, Brother Joshua?

  Panel Two:

  BROTHER JOSHUA looking heavenward, his tattooed fingers interlocked in prayer.

  BROTHER JOSHUA

  What's it gonna be, Lord? Can these little lambs be saved? Or have their minds been forever sullied with the abomination of... EVIL-LUTION!!!

  Panel Three:

  BROTHER JOSHUA. Words (THE VOICE OF THE LORD?) are literally drifting around his head, as if he's made a holy connection.

  VOICE OF THE LORD?

  Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death...

  BROTHER JOSHUA

  I hear you talkin', Lord!

  Panel Four:

  BROTHER JOSHUA running for the door of the schoolhouse, the words drifting around him.

  VOICE OF THE LORD?

  ...I will fear no evil...

  BROTHER JOSHUA

  I'm your servant, Lord! I hear you! I'ma-comin'!

  Panel Five:

  EXT. BROTHER JOSHUA throws open the schoolhouse door. Words still drift around him, but there's a shocked expression on his face.

  VOICE OF THE LORD?

  ...For thou art with me...

  PAGE TWENTY

  Six Panels

  Panel One:

  MONJO holding a Bible.

  MONJO (A)

  ...Thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.

  MONJO (B)

  Thou preparest a table before me, in the presence of mine enemies...

  MONJO (C)

  Afternoon, parson. Like to share in the scripture with me?

  Panel Two:

  BROTHER JOSHUA, NOW JOINED BY HIS MEN, all of them going for their guns, trying to light dynamite, whatever.

  BROTHER JOSHUA

  Blasphemer!

  Panel Three:

  MONJO AND NEVADA open fire.

  SFX (GUNSHOTS)

  BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

  Panel Four:

  THE SONS OF ADAM, so much Swiss Cheese, dead as dead can be.

  Panel Five:

  NEVADA AND MONJO.

  NEVADA

  Who were those idiots?

  MONJO

  Anti-evolutionist gunslinging evangelists. Call themselves the Sons of Adam. This must have been the Northern Arizona Chapter.

  Panel Six:

  MONJO STANDING OVER BROTHER JOSHUA.

  MONJO

  Hot-headed sons of bitches. They sure get some riled when I read from the good book.

  PAGE TWENTY-ONE

  Five Panels

  Panel One:

  NEVADA AND MONJO outside the schoolhouse, standing over a freshly mounded grave, hats clutched in their hands. A roughly carved tombstone bears the inscription ARIZONA CARTER 1851-1874.

  CAPTION

  Later...

  MONJO

  Would you like me to say a few words?

  Panel Two:

  NEVADA.

  NEVADA

  No. My sister wouldn't have wanted anything like that.

  Panel Three:

  MONJO.

  MONJO

  Well, I guess I'll be about my business then.

  Panel Four:

  ANOTHER ANGLE ON NEVADA AND MONJO.

  NEVADA

  Just what is your business, Monjo?

  MONJO

  Science, of course —

  Panel Five:

  THE REAR OF NEVADA'S BUCKBOARD WAGON. The bodies of the Sons of Adam are clearly visible, flies buzzing around them. Also clearly visible is the dinosaur skull, which is stained with their blood.

  MONJO (OS)

  — I deal in extinction.

  DEAD MAN’S HAND

  IN THE MIDNIGHT CANYONS OF THE AMERICAN WEST, when the full moon shines the color of George Armstrong Custer's shorn scalp, tales are told of a man whose skin is as black as a tarantula's pocket...

  A man who swam the River Styx and saddled a demon. A man who slapped reins made from a hangman's noose as he rode the brimstone trail to Hell...

  A man who tussled with Old Scratch himself. A man who knotted the Devil's tail to the burning gates of Hades... lopped off his Satanic Majesty's horns with a dehorn saw and branded his hairy ass with the sign of the cross, leaving the sour old bastard bellowing for mercy in his own sin-pit of sulfur and shadow...

  But this man is no angel.

  No. He is a man who walks the earth in a pair of magic boots fashioned by a sage from the Mysterious East... boots stitched from the hides of thirteen vampire bats... boots that scream... boots with teeth that slash like Jim Bowie's fabled blade...

  He is a man who wears an oxblood Stetson and carries a Navy Colt scarred over with a private cemetery's worth of notches... A man with a barbed-wire backbone and a pair of
haunted eyes that have seen too much and still have so much more to see...

 

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