Spare Me Page #7

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SHEILA:

Mind if I cut in?

THEO:

No, not at all.

EXT. DANCE

Theo pulls out his resin bag, powders up his hands, and goes

for Sheila. Theo and Sheila get low and nasty on the tarmac.

Sheila turns and does the freak to Theo, rubbing her rear end

into his crotch. As Theo and Sheila dance over near John he

makes a throat slitting gesture across his neck. Theo's hands

leave white prints on Sheila's butt. The Swing-a-delic funks

so hard it causes spontaneous audience dance riots and

structural damage in theaters across the country.

SHEILA:

You and your sideburns are the talk of

the party, Theo.

THEO:

The ladies in Akron call them thigh-

ticklers.

SHEILA:

Can I ask you something personal?

THEO:

I'd rather you didn't.

SHEILA:

Do you have a girlfriend?

THEO:

Not while I'm in training.

SHEILA:

Do you have a boyfriend?

THEO:

(surprised)

No. Do You?

SHEILA:

No. Not at the present.

EXT. PARKING FIELD - NIGHT

Sheila and Theo toast marshmallows over the barbecue as the

rest of the party dances in the background.

THEO:

So this brother of yours is hazardous to

the health of your dates?

SHEILA:

Nobody in this town really understands

Junior. When I went to family sessions

for him I realized he was the sanest one

in the family. Actually, he's the only

one in this whole f***ing town who knows

exactly who he is and what he wants.

THEO:

Unfortunately what he wants is you.

SHEILA:

So, what about you?

THEO:

Do I want you?

SHEILA:

We'll get into that later.

CUT TO:

48 INT. MILES KASTLE'S OFFICE 48

Alone, Kastle stares at the bank of video monitors and runs a

battery powered fuzzball remover around his collar. The

monitors are deserted. Miles absently pans a camera over and

then sits bolt upright. On the screen he can see Buzz Fazeli,

in a room at Babylon Lanes, surrounded by large piles of

cash, stuffing rolls of bills into hollow bowling pins.

KASTLE:

(with rising anger)

Why that filthy, slimey, double-crossing,

misbegotten, two-faced, mangy, son-of-a-

b*tch bastard!

The motor in the fuzz ball remover SHRIEKS as Miles squeezes

it to death. It shatters in his hands.

49 EXT. PARKING FIELD - NIGHT 49

Theo and Sheila lie on the roof of the station wagon. "Devil

With The Blue Dress" by Shorty Long plays on the stereo. The

rest of the party throws marshmallows at each other in the

distance.

SHEILA:

Theo, what would you do if you couldn't

bowl?

THEO:

I don't know. It's all I ever wanted to

do.

SHEILA:

I wanted to be a motocross champion. My

folks didn't really care what I did. Then

Junior blew a fuse and I became their

last hope. Most girls get ballet stuffed

down their throats, I got bowling. I

never understood how anyone could take it

so seriously. I hope I'm not insulting

you.

THEO:

No, I'm fascinated.

SHEILA:

Why were you suspended?

THEO:

I used to be kind of wild. They used to

call me the bad boy of bowling.

SHEILA:

So you're hoping Buzz can get you re-

instated?

THEO:

Well, that was plan A.

SHEILA:

What's plan B?

THEO:

Plan B is your dad.

SHEILA:

What do you think my dad's gonna do for

you?

THEO:

He said he'd sponsor me.

SHEILA:

Ha! And what do you have to do for him?

THEO:

Nothing.

SHEILA:

Oh really? Nothing? My dad doesn't do

anything unless there's something in it

for him.

THEO:

He asked me to keep an eye on you for a

couple of days.

SHEILA:

What? Be my body guard?

(she laughs)

Here's my body, Theo. Guard it. For my

dad's sake. For your career. Sheila

starts to unbutton her bowling shirt.

THEO:

Sheila, please.

SHEILA:

Come on Theo, what about plan C?

THEO:

(looking worried)

What's plan C?

SHEILA:

Plan C...

(opens her shirt, showing off

her brassiere)

...is me.

Sheila takes Theo's nervous hands and places them inside her

shirt.

THEO:

(torn)

Look, Sheila, I really like you but...

Sheila rolls on top of him, and plants a

hickey on his neck.

THEO:

(stopping her)

Forget it, Sheila.

50 INT. MILES 'O' LANES 50

Kastle hurries through the darkened bowling alley. He stops

short as a warning alarm begins to sound from somewhere deep

within the building. Lane six lights up and comes to life.

Kastle walks slowly forward.

KASTLE:

Junior? Is that you, Junior? Don't be

afraid. Where are you? I won't hurt you.

INT. MACHINERY GALLEY

Kastle stealthily sneaks along beside row upon row of silent

pin reset machines shining a flashlight in front of him.

KASTLE:

Come on, Junior. Everyone's waiting for

you, son. The beam of light catches

Junior's face. He is crouched inside the

machine at lane six. Jr. His face is cut

and bleeding and his straitjacket torn

and filthy.

JUNIOR:

Needs lubrication. Lubrication.

KASTLE:

We're having a party for you, boy. Cake

and shish-k-bob, just like you love.

Junior cringes away from the light.

JUNIOR:

You made me hurt him!

Kastle reaches into his pocket and pulls a gaudy digital

wristwatch from his pocket.

KASTLE:

Look what I got for you.

He holds the watch up in front of Junior. Junior looks

curiously at the watch.

KASTLE:

Happy Birthday Junior!

The watch begins to play an electronic version of "Raindrops

Keep Falling On My Head." Junior's face lights up.

JUNIOR:

Ooooooohhh.

Kastle begins luring Junior out of machine number six with

the watch.

KASTLE:

I have someone for you to play with

Junior.

JUNIOR:

Someone wants to play with me?

KASTLE:

I have someone for you to play Blueface

with Junior.

JUNIOR:

Blueface! Blueface is my favorite.

51 EXT. ROAD, SID & BREEZE'S CAR - DAY 51

Breeze and Sid speed down a road in their damaged hulk. The

TENOR of Enrico Caruso can be heard from inside.

51 INT. SID & BREEZE'S CAR 51

Breeze drives. Sid gazes out the window. Enrico Caruso WAILS

from the car stereo.

SID:

Bowling used to be so pure, so...All-

American. Breeze sings along with Caruso

and pretends to conduct.

BREEZE:

La da da dalala...

SID:

(looking heatedly disturbed)

I hate f***in' opera.

BREEZE:

How could you hate opera, Sid? Opera has

all the drama and excitement of real life

- to music!

SID:

How do you know, you don't even speak

Latin?

BREEZE:

You listen to the feelings, not the

words.

SID:

You got an 8-track tape player on

purpose, just 'cause you knew the only

thing they had on 8-track was f***in'

opera.

BREEZE:

It was a clearance.

Sid seems to calm down.

SID:

(wistfully)

You know, Elvis bowled.

BREEZE:

No kiddin'.

SID:

Bowling was the most incorruptible sport.

No megalomillionaires, no

(more)

SID:

gambling. And it was a safe place for

kids, a place where the whole community

could meet for some wholesome, clean fun.

BREEZE:

(sympathetically)

Sure, Sid.

SID:

(becoming rabid)

But not no more. Now people take

advantage. Bowling ain't what it used to

be. There's something evil spreading in

this sport - like a big, gigantic, puss-

ridden -

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