O Brother, Where Art Thou? Page #9

Everett rises and digs in his pocket.

EVERETT:

Well, why not. If nothing else I

could use some civilized conversation.

As the three men start to move off, Big Dan gives Delmar a

tilt of the head and a crinkling smile.

BIG DAN:

Don't forget your shoebox, friend.

We hear bellowing issuing from a curtained private dining-

room.

INSIDE THE PRIVATE ROOM

Pappy O'Daniel sits smoking a cigar, nursing a glass of

whiskey, and soliciting the counsel of his overweight retinue.

PAPPY:

Languishing! Goddamn campaign is

languishing! We need a shot inna

arm! Hear me, boys? Inna goddamn

ARM! Election held tomorra, that

sonofabitch Stokes would win it in a

walk!

JUNIOR:

Well he's the reform candidate, Daddy.

Pappy narrows his eyes at him, wondering what he's getting

at.

PAPPY:

...Yeah?

JUNIOR:

Well people like that reform. Maybe

we should get us some.

Pappy whips off his hat and slaps at Junior with it.

PAPPY:

I'll reform you, you soft-headed

sonofabitch! How we gonna run reform

when we're the damn incumbent!

He glares around the table.

PAPPY:

Zat the best idea any you boys can

come up with? REEform?! Weepin' Jesus

on the cross! Eckard, you may as

well start draftin' my concession

speech right now.

Eckard grunts as he starts to rise.

ECKARD:

Okay, Pappy.

Pappy whips him back down with his hat.

PAPPY:

I'm just makin' a point, you stupid

sonofabitch!

ECKARD:

Okay, Pappy.

As he settles back Eckard looks around the table and helpfully

relays:

ECKARD:

Pappy just makin' a point here, boys.

A MEADOW:

The car boosted from the general store has been pulled off

the road and parked a few yards into a field littered with

bluebonnets and rimmed with moss-dripping oak.

Everett, Delmar and Big Dan sit on a blanket around a large

picnic hamper. Big Dan is just sucking the last piece of

chicken off a bone.

He tosses the bone over his shoulder, belches, and sighs.

BIG DAN:

Thankee boys for throwin' in that

fricasee. I'm a man a large appetite

and even with lunch under my belt I

was feeling a mite peckish.

EVERETT:

Our pleasure, Big Dan.

BIG DAN:

And thank you as well for that

conversational hiatus; I generally

refrain from speech while engaged in

gustation. There are those who attempt

both at the same time but I find it

course and vulgar. Now where were

we?

DELMAR:

Makin' money in the Lord's service.

BIG DAN:

You don't say much friend, but when

you do it's to the point and I salute

you for it.

Delmar is pleased and embarrassed.

DELMAR:

Oh, it weren't nothin', I-

BIG DAN:

Yes, Bible sales. The trade is not a

complicated one; there're but two

things to learn. One bein' where to

find your wholesaler - word of God

in bulk as it were. Two bein' how to

reckanize your customer - who're you

dealin' with? - an exercise in

psychology so to speak.

He rises to his feet and tosses down his napkin.

BIG DAN:

And it is that which I propose to

give you a lesson in right now.

He reaches up and with one hand easily rips a stout limb off

a tree. He casually strips its twigs.

EVERETT:

I like to think that I'm a pretty

astute observer of the human scene.

BIG DAN:

No doubt, brother - I figured as

much back there in the restaurant.

That's why I invited you out here

for this advanced tutorial.

His club is ready. He swings at Delmar who staggers back

with a grunt.

Everett wears a puzzled smile.

EVERETT:

...What's goin' on, Big Dan?

Delmar, though stunned, is faster to size things up. He

charges Big Dan and wraps his arms around him.

Delmar roars.

Big Dan rears back and whacks at his head.

Everett is still puzzled, but willing to be instructed:

EVERETT:

Big Dan, what're you doin'?

Big Dan walks awkwardly over to Everett with Delmar still

attached to him like a hunting dog locked on to a bear. Big

Dan takes a break from whacking at Delmar to deliver a blow

to Everett.

The blow catches Everett on the chin and sends him reeling.

BIG DAN:

It's all about money, boys! Atsy

answer! Dough re mi!

Big Dan bear hugs Delmar and tosses him away. He whacks

Everett into a semi-conscious heap and then paws through his

pockets.

BIG DAN:

Do unto others before they do unto

you!

He pulls out their wad of cash.

BIG DAN:

I'll just take your show cards...

He walks over to Delmar who is on the ground moaning, and

kicks him several times.

BIG DAN:

...and whatever you got in the hole.

He takes Delmar's shoebox and flips off the top.

Inside is a bed of straw with the toad resting on it.

BIG DAN:

What the...

He pokes around the straw with his finger; nothing else

inside.

BIG DAN:

It's nothin' but a damn toad!

Delmar, moaning, looks blearily up through swollen eyes.

Big Dan has the toad in his enormous fist.

Delmar moans through cracked and bloody lips:

DELMAR:

No... you don't understand...

BIG DAN:

Don't you boys know these things

give ya warts?

He squeezes the frog, crushing it, and tosses it away against

a tree.

DELMAR:

Oh Lord... Pete...

Big Dan is over at the car, cranking it up.

BIG DAN:

End of lesson.

He climbs in.

BIG DAN:

So long, boys! Hee-hee! See ya in

the funny papers!

The car belches and pops and toodles off down the road.

Delmar staggers to his feet and stumbles over to the carcass

of the frog, weeping.

DELMAR:

Pete... Pete... Pete...

FADE OUT:

PAN DOWN FROM BLACK TO BRING IN A TORCH

Flickering in the night. We hear the rumble of distant thunder

as the continued pan down brings the torch's bearer into

frame - a man with the slavering grin of the dim-witted

sadist. He watches as we hear:

VOICE:

Where are they?!

There is the sound of a lash and a scream.

VOICE:

Talk, you unreconstructed whelp of a

whore! Where they headed?

Another lash brings another scream.

The screams come from Pete. His arms, stretched high over

his head, are tied to a tree limb. His interrogator wields a

bullwhip.

INTERROGATOR:

Your screams ain't gonna save your

flesh! Only your tongue is, boy!

Another lash, another scream.

INTERROGATOR:

Where they headed!

A third man walks into the torchlight, a hound drooling at

his heels. He is Cooley, the sheriff with mirrored sunglasses

whom we remember from previous barn confrontations.

COOLEY:

Lump. I.O.

The two men acknowledge by backing away from Pete.

We hear a pat... pat... and then the accelerating pitter-

patter of arriving rain.

Cooley looks up.

COOLEY:

Sweet summer rain. Like God's own

mercy.

He looks back down at Pete.

COOLEY:

Your two friends have abandoned you,

Pete. They don't seem to care 'bout

your hide.

He shrugs, looks off.

COOLEY:

...Okay.

Looking up, into black: a rope is tossed up - it recedes out

of the torchlight into black night - and then drops back

down into the light, a noose bouncing at its end.

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