Even Cowgirls Get The Blues Page #18

INT. SIWASH CAVE NIGHT

Sissy listens to the Chink as they walk around the Chink's

clockworks.

CHINK:

These people have no other ritual

than this one. Likewise, they have

but one legend or cultural myth:

that of a continuum they call the

Eternity of Joy. It is into the

Eternity of Joy that they believe

all men will pass once the clockworks

is destroyed. The destruction must

come from the outside, must come by

natural means, must come at the will

of this gesticulating planet whose

more acute stirrings thoughtless

people call "earthquakes."

The Chink holds Sissy's thumbs in his hands adoringly.

CHINK:

The Earth is alive. She burns inside

with the heat of cosmic longing. She

longs to be with her husband again.

She moans. She turns softly in her

sleep. In the Eternity of Joy,

pluralized, deurbanized man, at ease

with his gentle technologies, will

smile and sigh when the Earth begins

to shake. I loved those loony

redskins, but I couldn't be a party

to their utopian dreaming. After a

while it occurred to me that the

Clock People waiting for the Eternity

of Joy was virtually identical to

the Christians waiting for the Second

Coming. Or the Communists waiting

for the worldwide revolution. Or the

Debbies waiting for the flying

saucers. All the same. Just more

suckers betting their share of the

present on the future, banking every

misery on a happy ending to history.

Well, history is ending every second -

happily for some of us, unhappily

for others, happily one second,

unhappily the next. History is always

ending and always not ending... ha

ha ho ho and hee hee.

Sissy interrupts the Chink for a second while he is

worshipping her thumbs.

SISSY:

What do you believe in then?

CHINK:

Ha ha ho ho and hee hee.

Then he says nothing. And his silence makes Sissy weep. They

sit down on a grass floor, illuminated by the fire outside

the cave.

Then the Chink, without hesitation, grasps her thumbs. He

squeezes them, caresses them, covers them with wet kisses,

telling them how beautiful they are.

Sissy is bowled over, frightened, stunned, elated, moved

almost to tears.

Sissy bends her head back and whispers.

SISSY:

If this be adultery, make the most

of it.

And as the Chink plunges into Sissy, she arches her spread

bottom against the blankets and rears up to meet him halfway.

Their bodies glowing in the firelight, they cast shadows of

ANCIENT BEINGS, anthropomorphs making love through the night

under the moon.

INT. CAVE DAY

SUNBEAMS awaken Sissy. When she looks around she sees an

inscription has been freshly scrawled on the right wall.

I BELIEVE IN EVERYTHING; NOTHING IS SACRED.

And on the left wall:

I BELIEVE IN NOTHING; EVERYTHING IS SACRED.

Sissy hears and then sees A HELICOPTER in the sky above the

ranch. Sissy gets up and walks out of the cave.

EXT. TRAIL MORN

Sissy walks.

EXT. RUBBER ROSE

Sissy hitches a ride out of town.

EXT. FRONT DOORSTEPS MORNING

Countless NEWSPAPERS on countless porches, and the headline

of the St. Louis Post-Dispatch reads:

OUR WHOOPING CRANES ARE MISSING.

INT. THE COUNTESS' OFFICE DAY

The countess is in a snit.

THE COUNTESS:

Sissy, don't play dumb with me! You're

a good model but a shitty actress.

The cowgirls are involved in this

whooping crane disappearance. You

know perfectly well they are. Last

seen in Nebraska. Didn't make it to

Canada. Siwash Lake is between

Nebraska and Canada. The cowgirls

have possession of Siwash Lake. And

who else but Jellybean's wild c*nts

could possibly conceive of doing

something so diabolical as to tamper

with the last flock of some nearly

extinct birds? How much do you know

about it? Have they murdered those

cranes the way they murdered my moo

cows?

SISSY:

I don't know anything about it.

THE COUNTESS:

Sissy. You're trying to protect those

scuzzy b*tches. Well, let your

conscience be your guide, as my mommy

used to say, but it won't work. Those

stinking sluts are going to suffer...

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