Even Cowgirls Get The Blues Page #3

TITLE ACROSS THE SCREEN:

COWGIRL INTERLUDE

(Delores del Ruby)

EXT. BADLANDS DAY

Views of vast vistas of arid grasslands, open and unmodulated,

thirsty and exposed.

At the western edge of the DAKOTAS, the monotony of the

landscape, now gradually tilting toward the Rockies, is

interrupted by the Badlands -- sculptured canyons so deep

and chaotic they can break a devil's heart.

Between the grasslands and the eerie badlands ruins, there

lies a narrow band of humpy hills, green and pastoral. The

hills are carpeted with midlength prairie grass.

The Rubber Rose buildings are clustered at the badlands end

at the base of a butte, higher, broader and longer than any

in its vicinity, known as Siwash Ridge. a sign over the entry

of the ranch reads:

Welcome to the Rubber Rose Ranch

(the largest all-girl ranch in the west)

Delores del Ruby arrives at the Rubber Rose Ranch, carrying

a whip at her side and batting an educated lash at the

surrounding sights.

DELORES:

I've traveled through the Yucatan

with a circus, popping false eyelashes

off a trained monkey with a bullwhip.

When I ate peyote one night and had

a vision. Niwetükame, the Mother

Goddess, came to me on the back of a

doe, hummingbirds sipping the tears

she was shedding, crying 'Delores,

you must lead my daughters against

their natural enemy. You must come

to the Rubber Rose Ranch and prepare

for your mission, the details of

which will be revealed to you in a

third vision....' That night I whipped

the sh*t out of my black lover and

ran away. For a while I drove around,

making a living selling peyote buttons

to hippies, until I made my way

here...

A snake crosses the road in front of her, and she takes her

whip and whirls it around her head. The snake that is crawling

across the dusty road that leads to the ranch is carrying a

card under its forked tongue.

Delores snaps her whip at the snake and picks the card out

of his mouth and lets it fly in the air.

Delores catches it..... The card is the Queen of Spades.

EXT. ROAD DAY

Sissy is thirty years old now wearing a trademark colored

jumpsuit. She is saying these words still: "Greater freedom

of movement."

Sissy sticks out her thumb, even though there is no traffic.

A plane is flying overhead. Sissy hitches it; and the plane's

flight path curves with in response to her gesture. A squirrel

running by stops to look. The bus on the other side of the

road skids to a stop and two cars coming her way stop as

well.

INT. CAR DAY

The man driving looks over the back seat to the hitchiker

behind him.

INT. BUS DAY

The bus driver does the same.

EXT. ROAD

From the look of her Sissy is a very seasoned hitchhiker,

and she turns around relatively unimpressed with the fact

that a car has stopped for her.

SISSY'S VIEW. The man driving is black-skinned, beret-topped

and he has four smiling gold teeth and six shiny brass

saxaphones in the back seat. He wears a gardenia in his lapel

and tokes on a short joint.

SISSY:

Going north?

MAN:

You bet your raggedy white ass I am.

Sissy gets in.

He turns up the volume of his radio and rockets north.

INT. LINCOLN CONTINENTAL DAY

Sissy ventures into her pocket and pulls out a slice of cheese

and offers it to him. He now gets a better look at her unusual

thumbs. They are elegant, but large boned, and

disproportionate. They are banana shaped boats that makes it

a little awkward to hold onto the cheese.

MAN:

(taking an alarming

interest in her thumbs)

Thanks.

SISSY:

American Cheese. The king of road

food.

He eats the cheese, and worries about the thumbs. He tokes

on the joint between his fingers.

MAN:

Are you in show business?

SISSY:

I was a successful model once.

MAN:

For magazines?

SISSY:

I was the Yoni Yum feminine-hygiene

Dew girl from 1965 to 1970, but got

laid off.

MAN:

So now you're bummin' around?

SISSY:

Yep.

MAN:

Hitchhiking?

SISSY:

I'm the best.

MAN:

You're the best?

SISSY:

When I was younger, I hitchhiked one

hundred and twenty-seven hours without

stopping, without food or sleep,

crossed the continent twice in six

days, cooled my thumbs in both oceans

and caught rides after midnight on

unlighted highways.

MAN:

Whooee!

SISSY:

As I developed, however, I grew more

concerned with subtleties and nuances

of style. Time in terms of M.P.H. no

longer interested me. I began to

hitchhike in something akin to

geological time:
slow, ancient, vast.

When I am really moving, stopping

car after car after car, moving so

freely, so clearly, so delicately

that even the sex maniacs and the

cops can only blink and let me pass,

then I embody the rhythms of the

universe. I am in a state of grace.

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