Even Cowgirls Get The Blues Page #7

THE COUNTESS:

By the way, Sissy... he's a full

blooded Indian.

A title:

COWGIRL INTERLUDE

INT. RUBBER ROSE OUTHOUSE DAY

The Outhouse Radio is playing "The Starving Armenians Polka"

and Bonanza Jellybean and Delores del Ruby are in the privy,

caught in the rain.

JELLY:

Well, I'm not scared of a little

rain.

DELORES:

Me neither.

JELLY:

Might as well brave it.

DELORES:

Right. I don't know about you but

I'm sure not sweet enough to melt.

Delores flicks her whip at a sweat bee that has taken refuge

in the privy and hits the photograph of Dale Evans upon which

it has lit.

Jelly looks out the door of the outhouse across a cut green

lawn to a bunkhouse where we can see a gathering of other

cowgirls.

There is a fly buzz and a distant polka yip. Way off horse

lips flutter.

Bonanza spies a picture of Sissy Hankshaw, an advertisement

for Yoni Yum Dew Spray mist, on the privy wall.

JELLY:

(musing)

Someday...... if that Sissy Hankshaw

ever shows up here, I'm gonna teach

her how to hypnotize a chicken.

Chickens are the easiest critters on

Earth to hypnotize. If you can look

a chicken in the eyes for tens

seconds, it's yours forever.

INT. BUNKHOUSE DAY

A meeting is in progression in the bunkhouse that morning.

Mary is addressing the group.

MARY:

I want to complain that some of the

cowgirls have been sleeping two to a

bunk again, in violation of the

agreement that "crimes against nature"

are to be confined to the hayloft.

DEBBIE:

I don't care who lay with whom or

where or how, but the moaners,

groaners and screamers ought to turn

down their volume when others are

trying to sleep or meditate.

Some of the younger cowgirls blush.

BIG RED:

I want to complain about the food

around here! It's rotten to the core.

A round of support from the other cowgirls in the form of

cattle calls.

INT. OUTHOUSE DAY

Jelly and Delores are getting ready to run through the rain,

when all of a sudden, Jelly spies a barefoot cowgirl -- it's

Debbie -- run across the yard in her karate robe, jump on

the Exercycle that is rusting in the weeds and begin pumping

the pedals furiously in the yammering rain.

DELORES:

My sacred crocodile! She's flipped.

But in a minute, others follow Debbie, everyone of them, in

fact; the entire bunkhouse load of them, some thirty young

cowgirls, squealing, giggling, They slide and roll on the

wet grass, push each other into the mud that is forming by

the corral fence, chase one another in and out of the thick

folds of rain draperies, stamp their cute feet in puddles

and do bellyflops into the overflowing horse trough.

The cowgirls frolic until, as suddenly as it has come, the

rain goes away. Play ceases. They are panting like puppies

as they lean against one another or pick clods of mud from

one another's hair.

ELAINE:

I move that the meeting be adjourned.

DEBBIE:

At the end of the endless game, there

is friendship.

HEATHER:

What the heck did she mean by that!

JELLY:

Just that in Heaven all business is

conducted this way.

INT. HOTEL LOBBY NIGHT

In the lobby, the doors of an elevator open revealing Sissy

inside wearing a buttoned up dress. Very formal looking for

her.

There is Julian standing in the lobby. He turns and walks

toward Sissy. He is wearing a rather formal looking plaid

sport coat with blue cummerbund. He extends his hand to meet

her, and (perhaps at the sight of Sissy's thumbs) Julian has

an asthma attack, doubling over in front of her.

Sissy doesn't know whether to assist Julian or flee.

From the other side of the lobby, two WELL-GROOMED COUPLES,

white, mid-thirties and upper middle class come to the rescue.

The younger of the men, RUPERT, takes charge. He breaks an

inhaler of dinephrine under Julian's nose.

RUPERT:

We'd better take you home.

In the red of embarrassment, Julian looks more Indian than

he had previously. Wheezing, he speaks:

JULIAN:

I beg your pardon. I've been

enthralled with your photographs for

years. When the Countess hinted that

you might like to meet me -- he never

explained why -- I was ready to paint

for him free of charge. And now I

had to go and spoil it.

EXT. STREET NIGHT

Rupert is helping Julian to the street. Rupert is a salesman

for a publishing house. His wife Carla, a homemaker, as they

say. The other couple breaks down into Howard and Marie Barth,

both copywriters for an ad agency.

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