Wag the Dog Page #28

MOSS:

How's our friend? What is he, "dead?"

BREAN:

Wake up.

MOSS:

Is he dead?

AMES:

Is he dead?

(PAUSE)

Is he dead? ARE YOU DEAD? WAKE UP. You stupid, nun-

raping sonofoabitch.... wake up... WAKE UP. Do you

want to spend the rest of your life in JAIL? WAKE UP!

Do You Know Who I AM??? I'm talking to you...

SCHUMANN BEGINS TO ROUSE BIMSELF.

SCHUMANN:

Z'it time for Exercise?

(PAUSE)

Cause it's my Day on the Yard.

BREAN:

Courage, Mom.

AMES:

Oh. Hell. And what do we do now? What do we do now?

Boy Producer?

(PAUSE)

Mister Win-an-Emmy, Social Conscience, Whaleshit, save-

the-rainforest, Liberal hire-a-convict shithead?

Mister Affirmative-Action Peacnik. Commie...

shithead....?

MOSS:

(PAUSE)

This is nothing. ...piece of cake. Y'know, producing

is being a Samurai Warrior. They pay you, day in, day

out, for Years, so that, ONE DAY, when called upon,

you can respond, your training At Its Peak, and save

the day.

ANGLE:

BREAN, SHAKING HIS HEAD. IN THE B.G., MOSS, DRINKING.

THE TV COMES TO LIFE.

COMMENTATOR:

...long overdue, its absence unexplained.

THE NEXT SHOT IS SENATOR BUD NOLE, SPEAKING EARNESTLY AT THE CAMERA.

NOLE:

...this...regrettable absence... this ...tardy absence

of the flight. Must give us pause. And, in that pause

we should take time to examine ourselves, our plans,

and our future. There has been an ...interregnum -- if

you will, of reason, while we've watched unfold this

drama..... on the world scale...

AMES:

(TO HIMSELF)

...I hate this cocksucker...

NOLE:

And, now, end how it will, this drama is done...

ANGLE MOSS, AS HE WANDERS BACK TO STARE AT THE SCREEN. THE VAST FIELDS

STRETCHING AWAY IN THE DISTANCE

NOLE (C)

The drama is done, and we must pause to consider.

(HE HOLDS UP A PHOTO OF THE PRESIDENT)

And we must consider this man. This man...who, you

will remember, was discovered, scant days ago, in a

situation which must debar him from Public Office...

(HE HOLDS UP A SHOT OF THE PRESIDENT

AND THE GIRLSCOUTS)

And I say, when we take time to reflect, there're going

to be a lot of apartments for rent in Washington,

Election Day. Two days from now, Folks...Don't forget

to vote.

MOSS:

No, I didn't think so.

AMES KICKS IN THE THLEVISION. HE MOVES TO SCHUMANN AND LIFTS HIM TO HIS FEET.

BREAN:

(DRUNKENLY)

Leav't alone. Wha'd television ever do to you? Ate

your life, ruin'd your Culture, but...

AMES FINISHES DESTROYING THE TV.

AMES:

IT DESTROYED THE ELECTORAL PROCESS.

HE FINISHES RAGING AT THE TELEVISION SET. PAUSE.

MOSS:

Come on.

AMES:

...where?

MOSS:

Come on.

MOSS MOVES SCHUMANN INTO A STANDING POSITION.

BREAN:

Y'know what else bothers me? "Shh lil baby, don' saya

word, papa's gon buy you a mocking bird..."

(PAUSE)

The baby don'say a word, WHAT THE F*** IS THE

MOTHERFUCKING MOCKING BIRD GONE SAY?

(PAUSE)

You follow me...?

MOSS:

Get on your feet, boy.

BREAN:

Uh huh...why?

MOSS:

We're going home. We're going home together...

BREAN:

We have no home. We're vagrants. N'each man's hand's

against us. We killed Old Shoe...

(HE BEGINS TO WEEP)

We killed the Schuster...spend our life in a

packingcrate...Where are you going...?

MOSS STARTS CODDLING SCHUMANN.

MOSS:

Come on, Pal, come on Willie, come on, Old Shoe...

SCHUMANN:

Just want to take a nap.

MOSS:

He's not dead, Ronnie. He's just a little

understandab1y, fatigued.

(PAUSE)

Let's get him to some help...

SCHUMANN:

...gimme some help...

MOSS:

That's right, we'll take a nap. We'll get you to

Washington, we'll get you Back to your Buddies, and...

SCHUMANN:

...just want to Get Back to the Beans...

MOSS WALKS TO BREAN, AND STARTS KICKING HIM.

MOSS:

Come on, you f***ing sissy, you think this is tough?

Try show-business. 1970-1990, n'ybody I worked with,

y'could of bottled their piss n'sold it in the

ghettos...

(TO SCHUMANN)

Come on, Pal...

BREAN:

I'm tired.

MOSS:

Finish Strong! Are you nuts?

(HE STARTS SHEPHERDING THE TWO ACROSS

THE VAST WHEATFIELD)

Are you nuts? This's Pennies from Heaven... on his

triumphal return home, Old Shoe, his Plane Forced

Down...AND YET...

BREAN:

He's supposed to be flying in from Europe.

MOSS:

We'll deal with that when we come to it. This is

producing. This is what they pay off on...come on,

Pal, Boots and Saddles...

AMES:

...his Triumphal Plane. Shot Down.

MOSS:

Shot down, Forced down...

(HE GESTURES, MEANING, THIS IS A MINOR

POINT)

You guys are missing it... You're missing the

opportunity

THE GROUP TRUDGES OFF.

SCHUMANN:

Isn't it time for my Pill...?

DISSOLVE:

INT VAST COMBINE HARVESTER DAY. STOPPED IN A WHEATFIELD.

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