Even Cowgirls Get The Blues Page #4

The man listening to her takes another toke on his joint.

EXT. ROAD DAY

A view down the road of the Lincoln Continental going swiftly

in its direction.

CREDIT INTERLUDE featuring the song "Even Cowgirls Get the

Blues" as sung by (an undetermined country or pop star like

k.d. lang or Bob Dylan) in an old television Kine-scope piece

of film like you might see on early 1950's television sets.

Between Sissy watching this image on old motel televisions,

there are also IMAGES of roads, cars, trucks, highways,

thumbs, gas stations and deserts gliding by in a flow of

natural hitchhiking beauty.

EXT. POST OFFICE DAY

Sissy gets out of a large eighteen wheel truck and walks

into a United States Post Office.

INT. POST OFFICE DAY

Sissy at the window picking up some mail, and opening a

lavender colored letter that reeks of perfume, she is

surprised to read this:

Sissy, Precious Being, How are you, my extraordinary one? I

worry so. Next time you are near Manhattan, do ring me up.

There is a man to whom I simply must introduce you. Thrill!!

-The Countess

Sissy looks at the envelope and return address. Elaborately

embossed is the Countess' logo...

INT. COUNTESS'S OFFICE DAY

The elaborately embossed envelope is now being sealed.. The

Countess gives it a licking... Beside him is a young

watercolorist named Julian.

THE COUNTESS:

I will send this out to Sissy, she

should get it in a week, and you

will be able to meet her. When I

send a letter to Sissy, duplicates

must be sent to U.S. Post Office

Boxes in LaConner, Taos, Pine Ridge,

Cherokee and that other place, for

her to pick up... Why she's probably

out there right now in Hibbing,

Minnesota, or Deluth, Montana...

hitching her way across the country.

INT. TRUCKERS CAB NIGHT

Sissy is talking to a trucker as they pass down the road.

SISSY:

Right off, I don't remember how old

I was when I found out I was part

Indian. My mamma's family, a lot of

them, had lived out West, in the

Dakotas, and one of them had married

a squaw. Siwash tribe. My pleasure

in Indianhood and my passion for car

travel might be incongruous if not

mutually exclusive........ After

all, the first car that ever stopped

for me had been named in honor of

the great chief of the Ottawa:

Pontiac......

In the distance, Sissy spies her destination. NEW YORK CITY.

SISSY:

NEW YORK CITY. It's still a helluva

town....

EXT. OFFICE BUILDING DAY

Sissy gets out of the truck and looks up at a large building.

INT. COUNTESS'S OFFICE DAY

THE COUNTESS:

Sit down dear, do sit down.

Sissy Hankshaw takes a seat. The Countess lifts a dusty

decanter.

THE COUNTESS:

Take a load off those lovely tootsies.

Yes, sit right down. Would you fancy

some sherry?

The decanter is empty, a stiff fly lies feet up on it's lip.

THE COUNTESS:

Sh*t O goodness, I'm all out of

sherry; how about some Red Ripple?

He reaches into a midget refrigerator beside his desk and

pulls out some pop wine.

THE COUNTESS:

You know what Red Ripple is don't

you? It's Kool-Aid with a hard on.

Tee Hee.

Sissy manages a polite smile. She looks at a heavily finger

printed glass.

THE COUNTESS:

(he toasts)

To my own special Sissy. Cheers! And

welcome. So my letter brought ya

flying, eh? Where were you? Salt

Lake City? La Conner? Well, I may

have a little surprise for you. But

first, tell me about yourself. It's

been six months, hasn't it? In some

circles that's half a year. How are

you?

SISSY:

Tired...

THE COUNTESS:

That's the very first time in the

eons that I've known you that I've

ever heard you complain. And now

you're tired, poor darling.

SISSY:

A born freak can only go uphill.

THE COUNTESS:

Freak, schmeek. Most of us are freaks

in one way or another. Try being

born a male Russian countess into a

white middle class Baptist family in

Mississippi and you'll see what I

mean.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes