How Bessie Got Her Groove Back
The Effects of Gun Control and Wartime Situations as it Relates to Livestock and Rural Communities, or:
How Bessie Got Her Groove Back
An Original Screenplay
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FADE IN:
EXT. RURAL HIGHWAY - DAY
Lined on both sides by tall rows of corn-stalks, the highway
is completely empty as far as the eye can see. Except for
BRUCE COCKTAIL, a tall, rail-thin man in his late 50s, who
walks along the breakdown lane. Bruce is dressed entirely in
black--including a black felt fedora and sunglasses--except
for a orange rose corsage pinned to his lapel.
Bruce turns up a long, dusty driveway.
EXT. FARMHOUSE - DAY
The driveway leads up to the farmhouse, a white, two-story
number that looks like it's falling apart. Bruce meanders up
the driveway, goes behind the house to the back door, and
knocks.
DAVIS, a mustachioed man in his mid-30s who wears a red
tanktop that says "ATTICA!", opens the door. He peers at
Bruce through the screen door and takes a sip of milk from a
half-gallon carton.
BRUCE
Are you Davis?
DAVIS
Whattaya want?
Bruce slides his fedora to its side, revealing a white banner
tucked into the band, labeled "THE GOVERNMENT."
Davis's eyes widen.
He drops the carton of milk.
Bruce pulls a 9mm semiautomatic pistol on Davis, who reels
backward, falls onto the floor, and shoves himself against
the back wall.
Bruce kicks in the screen door and shoves his way into the
house.
INT. KITCHEN - FARMHOUSE - DAY
Bruce aims the gun at Davis with completely steady hands.
Davis whimpers in fear, holding his arms out in front of his
face, as if this would protect him.
BRUCE
I'm going to give you a series of
instructions now. If you obey, you
live. If you refuse...
Bruce fires the gun in Davis's direction. Davis drops his arms
and looks at the smoking hole in the wall next to his head.
Wide-eyed with terror, Davis turns back to Bruce.
DAVIS
Who...are...you?
BRUCE
Special Agent Bruce Cocktail
of...The Government.
A menacing musical sting.
DAVIS
What should I do?
BRUCE
Turn on the light--
Davis leaps to his feet.
BRUCE
Slowly!
SLO-MO: Davis runs to the kitchen light switch and flicks it
on.
BRUCE
Good. Now, remove all your
silverware from its drawer and
place it on the kitchen table.
Davis goes to a drawer and pulls out silverware.
INT. KITCHEN - FARMHOUSE - LATER
Davis puts the last spoon onto the kitchen table, where all
the silverware is laid out very methodically, covering the
entire table.
INT. MAIN HALL - FARMHOUSE - DAY
Bruce holds the 9mm to Davis's head. A bucket of soapy water
and several sponges lay at their feet.
BRUCE
Wash it.
Davis nods, gets down on his hands and knees, and starts
scrubbing.
EXT. WRAPAROUND PORCH - FARMHOUSE - LATER
Bruce shoves a broom into Davis's hand.
DAVIS
Yes, sir.
Davis sweeps.
INT. LIVING ROOM - FARMHOUSE - LATER
Bruce sits on a recliner in his underwear (he still wears the
black fedora and sunglasses), drinking a can of beer and
watching Petticoat Junction on television. His suit is
folded neatly on the coffee table, and the gun rests on his
crotch. Visible through the picture window behind Bruce,
Davis finishes up his porch sweeping.
On the television, Uncle Joe says something amusing about how
cheap Mr. Drucker is. Bruce giggles mindlessly. Davis comes
back into the house.
DAVIS
I'm done sweepin', sir.
With disturbing speed and precision, Bruce grabs the gun from
his crotch and aims it directly at Davis.
BRUCE
Good.
DAVIS
What next?
BRUCE
See those clothes on the coffee
table?
DAVIS
Yes, sir.
BRUCE
Take 'em to be dry-cleaned.
DAVIS
I can't do that.
Bruce turns and looks at Davis, eyes wide and psychopathic.
BRUCE
Why not?
DAVIS
T'ain't no dry-cleaner for dag near
fitty miles.
BRUCE
Is that so?
Bruce leaps out of the recliner, grabs Davis, twists his arm
behind his back with one hand, and holds the gun to Davis's
head with the other.
BRUCE
Come on!
Bruce shoves Davis forward, and the two leave the house.
EXT. RURAL HIGHWAY - DUSK
Bruce drags Davis down the highway. They approach a long
bridge.
EXT. RAGING RIVER - DUSK
The large, two-hinged arch bridge hovers above the river. Bruce
pushes Davis down a beaten, dirt path that leads from the
highway above down to the riverbank. They walk up the bank
until they are directly under the bridge.
Bruce shoves Davis onto his knees, presses the gun barrel
against the back of Davis's head, and is about to squeeze the
trigger when--
BRUCE
You know, don't you?
DAVIS
Know what?
BRUCE
Goddammit!
Bruce fires into the air.
BRUCE
Tell me everything you know.
DAVIS
About what?
BRUCE
The argyle sweater.
DAVIS
What argyle sweater?
With each descriptor, Bruce jabs the gun into Davis's head
for emphasis.
BRUCE
Two-ply cashmere...green...
peach...purple...fully-fashioned
shoulders...ribbed cuffs...branded
bottom...imported...ring any
fucking bells?
DAVIS
N-n-no...
BRUCE
FUCK!
Bruce shoves Davis face-first onto the muddy bank, flips him
over, and presses the gun against his heart.
BRUCE
When did you go to Lo Fung
Anderson's Dry Cleanery in East
Dutton?
DAVIS
What?
BRUCE
Who took you there?
DAVIS
Huh?
BRUCE
WHAT DID YOU SEE THERE?
DAVIS
Nothing!
BRUCE
Are you sure?
DAVIS
I dunno what the fuck you're
talkin' about!
Bruce lets out a primal screen and fires the gun three times
into Davis's chest, which explodes in a fury of blood and
organs.
DISSOLVE TO:
A MOSQUITO, ALL PLUMP, FAT, AND RED WITH BLOOD
The mosquito sucks the blood of a LARGE COW.
INT. BARN - NIGHT
It's enormous, high-ceilinged. The main doors hang open,
showing the swirl of stars and a waxing, gibbous moon in the
night sky outside. The Large Cow chews on old grass. Bruce,
in his suit again (but wearing a heavy gray smock to catch
the splatter) works the Large Cow's udders, spurting the milk
into a tin bucket.
BRUCE
You got the life, don't you? You
don't have to do anything except
chew grass and occasionally let
some farmer fondle you. You got no
shit to deal with, no bureaucracy,
no nepotism, nobody getting YOUR
fucking promotion just because
they're blowing one of the deputy
directors on the review panel.
Your life is simplicity defined.
The Large Cow MOOS in response.
BRUCE
You can interact with other cows.
Say "Hey, how's it going? That's
some nice grass we got today." Or
you can just stand there, all
alone, out there in the fields.
It's all up to you. There's nobody
forcing you to do anything, except
maybe an overzealous farmer with an
electric prod who wants to milk you
ASAP. But I'm sure that doesn't
happen too often. Or if it does,
it won't anymore. I took care of
your boss, 'cause he knew too much.
The Large Cow MOOS again.
BRUCE
Yup, I wish I could have your life.
I'd sure be a lot happier.
PUSH IN on the Large Cow's teary eyes.
EXT. VIETNAMESE JUNGLE - NIGHT (1971)
SUDDEN PULL BACK from the Large Cow, who now stands in the
middle of the Vietnamese jungle. She now wears jack boots, a
pea-green helmet, and an olive-drab tarpaulin "uniform," to
which a few medals and rank insignias are tied loosely. The
Large Cow MOOS in anguish at the chaos that surrounds her.
Her unit, a ragtag group of drugged-out military men, run
with her through the jungle, away from the orange-red
explosions and gunfire behind them. There's DASHIELL and
BROWN and NATSUKO and COBURN, and PLATOON SERGEANT GLENDA.
DASHIELL
There's a clearing up ahead! Come
on!
Natsuko pulls the pin from a hand-grenade and furiously
pitches it behind them. It explodes, dropping a few VIET
CONG SOLDIERS. Coburn grabs Natsuko.
COBURN
Come on, Natsuko, we gotta get the
fuck outta here!
He tries to run with the terrified Natsuko, who refuses to
move.
PLATOON SERGEANT GLENDA
Private Coburn, shut up and move
it!
COBURN
But, sir--
PLATOON SERGEANT GLENDA
If that fuckin' Jap ain't gonna
move with us, let him get eaten by
the fuckin' gooks.
BROWN
Sir, I don't think that's an
appropriate way to speak of our--
Brown's chest explodes in a fury of machine-gun fire. Blood
soaks Coburn, Natsuko, and Platoon Sergeant Glenda. Stunned
Brown drops to his knees, then onto his face.
PLATOON SERGEANT GLENDA
Come on, let's get the fuck outta
here!
Platoon Sergeant Glenda slaps the Large Cow's ass.
PLATOON SERGEANT GLENDA
Come on, Bessie, get a fuckin' move
on.
DASHIELL
Oh God, we're gonna die.
The Large Cow MOOS.
DASHIELL
Come on, Bessie, I can't help it-
this is a lost cause.
The Large Cow MOOS again.
DASHIELL
You're right. Let's go.
Dashiell and the Large Cow run and catch up with Coburn,
Natsuko, and Platoon Sergeant Glenda.
EXT. JUNGLE CLEARING - NIGHT (1971)
What's left of the platoon rushes into the clearing, huddles
in the center, then fans out and searches for Viet Cong in
the hazy red-orange glow of the explosions that surround
them.
DASHIELL
What happened to Lieutenant Elders?
PLATOON SERGEANT GLENDA
He's gone. Fuck 'im.
DASHIELL
But, sir, he was our--
PLATOON SERGEANT GLENDA
Fuck him, Private.
DASHIELL
Yes, sir.
COBURN
I don't see nobody.
NATSUKO
Me neither.
The Large Cow MOOS.
DASHIELL
Well, then, where the hell are
those explosions all coming from?
The Viet Cong leap from the trees overhead and surround the
ragtag platoon remainder from all directions.
NATSUKO
We're caught!
DASHIELL
Oh God.
COBURN
Bessie!
The Large Cow MOOS as the gunfire begins. Natsuko attempts
to toss another grenade at the thicket of soldiers. He pulls
the pin, but before he can throw it, a ribbon of gunfire
slashes across his chest. He falls to his ground, and the
grenade explodes, sending Natsuko's flaming limbs around.
The explosion at such close proximity sends Coburn, Dashiell,
and several of the Soldiers into the air. Platoon Sergeant
Glenda and the Large Cow try for a retreat to the rear in the
distraction, but to no avail. The Large Cow is fired on four
times by two Viet Cong with handguns. She collapses to the
ground.
Platoon Sergeant Glenda isn't shot, but he drops to the
ground and plays dead.
The Viet Cong rush over to Coburn and Dashiell, who lay
limply at the other edge of the clearing. They shoot them
both to death and ten times over, their bodies quivering from
the machine gunfire.
With the firefight over, there's sudden silence. The
breathing Viet Cong fan out, scanning the area. Everyone is
dead. The Large Cow is not--she's been shot, but she isn't
even unconscious. She watches the scene.
The V.C. leader, YEO REUM--a woman whose hair is tied back in
a bun underneath her helmet--approaches Platoon Sergeant
Glenda.
YEO REUM
(in Vietnamese, subtitled)
He's not dead. Surround him!
The Viet Cong surround Platoon Sergeant Glenda.
YEO REUM
(in English)
Mister Sergeant Thomas Glenda.
PLATOON SERGEANT GLENDA
Yeo Reum.
She extends her arm, which Platoon Sergeant Glenda takes.
She pulls him to his feet, and they both smile at one
another. Yeo Reum removes her helmet and pulls the pins from
her hair, the black mass cascading down her back.
PLATOON SERGEANT GLENDA
You look more beautiful than I
remember.
YEO REUM
You look much handsome.
They kiss passionately. The Large Cow's eyes widen in
horror.
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. BARN - NIGHT (PRESENT DAY)
Bruce looks at the large bucket, filled almost to the top
with milk. He puts the bucket to his lips to taste, but
grimaces after a sip.
BRUCE
Sour. I wonder why...
The Large Cow utters a solemn, anguished MOO at its memory of
the war. Bruce pats the Large Cow's behind.
BRUCE
You've earned a treat, m'lady.
Bruce snaps his fingers, and suddenly a heavy fog enshrouds
Bruce and the Large Cow. Colored lights descend from the
tall barn roof, as does a motorized mirror ball, which throws
whirling dots of light all over the enormous barn. The wind
that blows the fog around also blows all the hay, leaves, and
grass from the barn floor, revealing a large, colored-light
filled dance-floor.
A disco beat surges, and the lights flicker in accordance
with that thumping rhythm. Bruce rips off his black suit,
revealing a white leisure suit and heavy gold chains around
his neck.
Bruce extends his arm, and the Large Cow moves forward
tentatively. Bruce gently caresses the cow's face, and the
Large Cow smiles happily. They dance to the beat of the
music.
FADE TO BLACK.
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