Spencer and Alexandra

Are are the first few pages of the film script that I won Runner-Up for in the Writers Digest "Best Screenplay" competition.

FADE IN

EXT. TRUCK STOP, NIGHT

Row upon row of semi trucks is all that is seen in this opening shot, most of them with their ass ends towards the viewer. You can almost smell the diesel fumes. One of the rigs pulls out and drives through the shot.

The lights are bright on the truck stop itself, the building that houses the diner. The drivers of these land behemoths hop out of their truck cabs and greet each other. You never saw so much flannel in your life. All of them head for an oasis behind the trucks, that aforementioned glow of the lights. The “interzone” for all of these travelers, a redneck Casablanca just past the final row of fuel pumps.

SLOW ZOOM TO—the diner.

CUT TO—

INT. DINER

CLOSE SHOT—a match lighting.

SPENCER FEATHERLAND is smoking a cigarette. SPENCER is a man in his 30s, lean to average build and he looks slightly “worn,” but still has boyish and very “pretty” features.

He is seated at the diner counter with his buddy, MITCHELL GAINS next to him. MITCHELL is larger than his compatriot and is a bit older. He has dark hair, glasses, and a goatee. He is finishing a steak while Spencer smokes over what is left of his plate of country ham and biscuits. Spencer is reading Of Human Bondage by W. Somerset Maugham. Both men glance at each other, say nothing then go back to what they were doing.

A portly WAITRESS pops into the shot from the other side of the diner counter with a coffee pot in hand.

Mitchell pushes his cup in front of her as if to say “yes.” He nods his head as if to say “thank you.” The waitress fills both of their cups. As she pours coffee for Spencer, she notices that he’s reading.

WAITRESS

What you readin’ that fer?

Looking up at her from his book, Spencer’s face is blank, seeming mildly annoyed.

SPENCER

What do you mean?

WAITRESS

Pretty high brow. You a college boy?

SPENCER

No.

WAITRESS

Oh I gets it. Yer just too good for Tee-Vee.

She walks over to the TV mounted high on the wall and turns it on. After turning the TV’s dial (and it does have a dial just like a set from circa 1978 would have), she puts the channel on a WWF match as a “fuck you.” She then walks back to the kitchen.

MITCHELL

There went her tip.

His friend shrugs and just goes back to reading.

MITCHELL

(yelling after her)

And bring us back some pie! (beat) Strawberry!

On the other side of the diner’s glass windows, a semi truck rig with a red cab pulls into the lot.

MITCHELL

Is that him?

Spencer shuts his book and tosses a $20 onto the counter before standing up.

SPENCER

Yup.

Mitchell stands up also and then straightens his belt around his fat belly.

MITCHELL

Alright. Time to make the fuckin’ donuts.

CUT TO—

EXT. TRUCK STOP, NIGHT

WIDE ANGLE—our two cowboys come walking out the front of the diner and head straight forward, never taking their eyes off of the newly arrived truck.

Climbing out of the cab of the truck is its driver, a man in his 40s. As his feet hit the ground, he shuts the door and starts to walk towards the diner when he hears...

SPENCER (OS)

Hey...

The driver turns as Spencer and Mitchell walk into the shot. Spencer punches the driver across the jaw and knocks him out cold. As the driver hits the ground, Mitchell ties the man’s hands behind his back.

With the driver subdued and dragged to the back of the trailer, our two then begin the task of opening the back of the truck.

MITCHELL

This guy weighs a fucking ton.

Spencer begins undoing the lock on the back doors of the trailer.

SPENCER

These guys eat truck stop food every meal

and then spend all day sitting. Damn!

Thing won’t open...

MITCHELL

Let me see.

Mitchell hops up on the back of the truck and begins to work the lock. Judging by the JINGLING and METALLIC CLANGING that the lock is emitting, he’s having about as much success as Spencer did.

MITCHELL

Well goddamn, what the fuck?

SPENCER

Always looked simple back at the shop, didn’t it?

MITCHELL

You mean you’ve never opened one of these before?

SPENCER

Thought you had.

MITCHELL

How did we ever get jobs working for a trucking company?

SPENCER

We only work for it on paper.

All the while, Spencer grunts and struggles still with the mechanism.

SPENCER

Shit! All I’m doing is stripping the fucking thing.

MITCHELL

This cannot be that tough! I refuse to accept that there is no way to open this.

Spencer hops down and walks away, over to where the driver is lying on the ground unconscious. Mitchell keeps working with the lock.

MITCHELL

So what’s the tensile strength of steel, anyway? Come on, Spence. You’re a smart

geek. You should know this.

While Mitchell continues to struggle with the lock, Spencer just looks deeply concentrated as he stares at the driver.

SPENCER

I don’t know.

MITCHELL

What do you mean, “I don’t know?” You know all that shit about atomic

weight, the Peloponnesian Wars, the capitol of Mongolia, which I still do not

acknowledge as a real country, thank you. But you can’t open the door on a rig?

Spencer’S POV—the driver, unconscious.

MITCHELL (OS)

Something got real fucked up with you somewheres, Spence.

BACK TO—Spencer, he now appears quite concerned.

SPENCER

This ain’t him, Mitch.

MITCHELL

Huh?

SPENCER

It ain’t him.

MITCHELL

What do you mean, it ain’t him?

SPENCER

It’s not our guy. I thought it was, but...

After considering what he has just heard, Mitchell runs around to the side of the rig and looks at it. He jumps back, having a moment of recognition.

MITCHELL

Shit. This ain’t even a Strickland truck.

He looks at Spencer.

SPENCER

We got the wrong guy.

CUT TO—

INT. TRUCK CAB—our two heroes have now untied the unconscious truck driver and are struggling to put him back behind the wheel of his truck.

SPENCER

(to the driver)

Sorry.

MITCHELL

Yeah, we’re real sorry.

SPENCER

Very, very sorry.

MITCHELL

You see, we thought you was someone else and then things got all fouled up because

Spence is kind of a ‘tard, ain’t ya, Spence?

SPENCER

Fuck you, Mitch.

MITCHELL

You’d swear he was right off the short bus sometimes. Book smart. Life dumb.

Ain’t that right, Spence?

SPENCER

Fuck you, Mitch.

MITCHELL

Anyways, maybe you can make up the lost time on your route. Low traffic, a tailwind,

I don’t know. Here’s to hoping. In fact, I tell you what.

Mitchell pulls a wad of money from his pocket and places it in the driver’s hand.

MITCHELL

Here. Have dinner on us. But don’t sit at the counter ‘cause the waitress is kinda a

bitch. Don’t ask me why. Happy trails.

He pats the driver and then hops down out of the cab.

CUT TO—

EXT. TRUCK PARKING LOT, NIGHT

Both Mitchell and Spencer are now skulking between the parked big rigs. In the distance, over the RUNNING ENGINES of the trucks, they hear VOICES.

Spencer, motions to Mitchell, telling him to get flat up against the side of the truck. They are approaching a congregation of truck drivers who are listening to one of their own tell a joke.

Spencer’S POV—the circle of drivers, centered around a guy named CARL. Carl is in his late 30’s, has a mullet, a moustache, a cap on his head (the kind with the mesh in the back), and wears a dirty t-shirt that reads “BIG ROCK HEAVY MACHINERY CO.”

CARL

Two firemen are buttfuckin’ in a smoke-filled room.

All of the drivers simply explode with laughter. This is the kind of enlightened demographic that we are dealing with.

CLOSE SHOT—Spencer, eyes darting about, sizing up the situation.

CARL (OS)

Naw, true story, man.

Spencer’S POV—the truck parked between the laughing crowd and his position bears the name “Strickland” upon it in green, sweeping letters.

CARL (OS)

And the fire chief, he come runnin’ up the stairs...

ANGLE ON—Carl, playing the bard of the truck stop.

CARL

And sees them two fags...

BACK TO ANGLE—Spencer waves Mitchell to follow him to the truck. The pair begin to sneak over to it.

CARL (OS)

Up there in the room, bumpin’ away.

ANGLE ON—Carl, still playing court jester to these kings of the road.

CARL

And he says to ‘em, “What the hell do you think you’re doin’?”

SHOT OF—Spencer and Mitchell, climbing into the cab of the Strickland truck.

CARL (OS)

And the one silly who’s doin’ the pumpin’ says, “E’s got smoke inhilation[sic]!”

The boys have unlocked the doors of the trailer (easily this time as they have the proper key) and enter it. They begin to tear through the boxes and the cartons.

CARL (OS)

Chief says, “well why the fuck don’t you just give ‘eem mouth-to-mouth?”

TIGHT ANGLE—Mitchell, finds a duffle bag stuffed between boxes in the trailer. He unzips it.

CARL (OS)

An’ the fudgie on the bottom kinda looks up at ‘eem and says...

ANGLE ON—Carl, grinning a gap-toothed grin.

CARL

“How do you think this shit got started?”

The truckers all erupt in raucous laughter.

BACK TO—INT. TRAILER. Our guys are looking at some kind of substance in the duffle bag. The muffled LAUGHTER continues outside.

MITCHELL

This look like the animal to you?

SPENCER

Let’s find out.

He removes a plastic bottle of water from his jacket pocket.

WIDE ANGLE—the truckers circled around Carl. Everyone is enjoying the night. Some are drinking, some are smoking, others still are spitting tobacco.

CARL

Firemen, boy. Fuckin’ queer firemen.

Think about it.

CLOSE SHOT—Spencer takes the container with the substance out of the bag. He pours water from the bottle onto the stuff and shakes it up.

OVER THE SHOULDER SHOT—Carl from the trucker’s perspective. He’s laughing and pointing at one of the drivers.

CARL

I know you’s thinkin’ about it, Ed! I know you is!

CLOSE SHOT—the water bottle. The water is fizzing and bubbling like Alka-Seltzer.

SPENCER

That’s GHB.

He looks over at Mitchell as Mitchell goes through the bag.

MITCHELL

Looks like it’s all here. Joy boy ain’t sold it yet.

SPENCER

Well, let’s do this.

Being tugged away by Spencer, Mitchell follows him past the stacks of freight and out the door, taking the duffle bag with him.

CUT TO—

Carl is walking away from his cronies that were involved in the intellectual conversation. One of the truckers calls out, “you takin’ off, Carl?”

CARL

Yeah. Gotta go make money. Hey Ed?

That fucking aspirin ain’t gonna do shit for that toothache of yours and you know

it. This is your last chance ‘fore I light out. You want what I got or not?

CARL’S POV—Ed waves him off negatively.

BACK TO ANGLE

CARL

Suit yourself.

He turns around and places a toothpick in his mouth.

CARL

(barely audible)

Dumbass son of a bitch.

Carl walks over to the cab of his truck while looking down at his hands, fumbling with the keys. He then happens to stop and look up from what he’s doing.

CARL’S POV—Spencer and Mitchell, standing right in front of him. Mitchell is still holding the duffle bag.

MITCHELL

Hey, Carl.

BACK TO ANGLE

CARL

What the fuck do you want?

SPENCER

Morty sent us.

An uneasy smile spreads across Carl’s face as he laughs a frightened laugh. As he is about to say something, Spencer punches him in the gut and then across the jaw.

Carl slumps to the ground, unconscious.

MITCHELL

Alright alright. All in a day’s work.

That said, Spencer bends down to sling Carl onto his shoulder. Struggling with this act, Spencer realizes that he’s getting no help from his friend and looks at him expectantly.

MITCHELL

I’m already carrying the bag, my friend.

Spencer sighs and then starts walking, half dragging Carl.

SPENCER

Fine, fine, fucking fine.

Mitchell goes after the huffy Spencer.

MITCHELL

What?! I am carrying the bag!

SPENCER

Oh yes you are.

MITCHELL

What?

SPENCER

Huh?

MITCHELL

What?

They continue to walk, weaving between parked trucks.

MITCHELL

Why are you getting all pissy with me?

SPENCER

It’s nothing. I’m fine.

MITCHELL

I swear, Spence. You’re as bad as a woman sometimes. Will you just...here!

He drops the bag down.

MITCHELL

I’ll carry the goddamn guy for you. You get the fucking bag.

SPENCER

Mitch! It’s fine. Just let me...

They begin to have a tug-of-war with the unconscious Carl.

MITCHELL

I don’t want to listen to you bitching all the way back to the car! Take the damn bag!

SPENCER

No, I can carry him. Just...

MITCHELL

What is it, Spence? Do you find him attractive? Is that it?

Neither of them realizes that this struggle over Carl is beginning to attract unwanted attention.

From the dispersing crowd of truckers, ED hears the noise and looks towards the source of it. Squinting his eyes, he sees...

HIS POV—Spencer and Mitchell, each trying to keep Carl from the other, yanking him back and forth.

BACK TO ANGLE

ED

Hey! They got Carl! Let’s get ‘em!

Both Spencer and Mitchell stop their feud long enough to see the oncoming rush of truck drivers.

MITCHELL

(whiney)

Oh fuck me...

He drops Carl and both men steady themselves to fight.

And fight they do. A melee of brawling and fisticuffs ensues. Punch after punch, throw after throw, the fight rages on.

CUT TO—

INT. CAR

Riding at night are Mitchell and Spencer. Spencer is driving. He has cuts on his face and a bloody tissue stuck up his nose. Mitchell has a swollen cheek and is wincing as he holds a bag of ice to it.

MITCHELL

I’m gonna need more ice.

There’s no reply to Mitchell’s statement as Spencer just keeps driving, looking straight ahead. The silence continues for a few more beats as the car moves along.

MITCHELL

Do you believe in God, Spence?

As he drives, Spencer thinks about this. He then places a cigarette in his mouth, one that is noticeably hand-rolled.

SPENCER

I’d like to.

More silence as they drive into the night.

MITCHELL

Yeah well, no one’s been able to give me a good argument for it yet.

Steering with his left hand, Spencer lights his cigarette with a Zippo lighter in his right hand.

SPENCER

Why all this religious talk?

MITCHELL

Dunno. We passed a church a piece back.

Had one of those signs out front. You know...the ones they put all the dopey

messages on? This one said, “Lava soap doesn’t work on sin.” Now what the fuck

is that supposed to mean? I mean, are they that bored that they just sit around all day

and think up this shit? And that’s the best that they can come up with? “Lava soap

doesn’t work on sin?” Come on.

Spencer doesn’t reply. He just keeps driving.

MITCHELL

You think we got sin on us, Spence?

SPENCER

We beat up a guy, duct taped his hands and mouth and then tossed him into the

trunk. We’re sending him to Morty who’s probably going to kill him. Yeah. I’d say

we got sin on us.

MITCHELL

Yeah, but Carl’s a piece of shit, Spence.

All he’s doing is sucking oxygen away from the rest of us.

SPENCER

My understanding is that it doesn’t matter. Sooner or later, everything we do catches

up with us.

MITCHELL

Hell I already done my time in the joint for armed robbery and 2 years managing a Make Out Creek: Lingery Booty-Q...

SPENCER

Lingerie boutique.

MITCHELL

So how’m I supposed to get rid of sin if “Lava Soap doesn’t work?”

SPENCER

Could pray the Rosary.

MITCHELL

Huh?

SPENCER

The Rosary.

MITCHELL

Whazzat?

SPENCER

You’re a heathen.

MITCHELL

You talking about that necklace thingy?

SPENCER

Fuck, man...

MITCHELL

‘Cause if you are...

SPENCER

Yes, but it’s not a necklace...

MITCHELL

...then I think I know what you’re talking about.

BEAT.

MITCHELLL

So what do I do with it?

SPENCER

Pray.

MITCHELL

Pray with the necklace?

SPENCER

Each bead is a prayer you say. Ten Hail Mary’s book-ended by Our Father’s.

MITCHELL

Yeah?

SPENCER

Five sets of ‘em.

MITCHELL

And you just...

SPENCER

Just keep saying them until the beads run out.

MITCHELL

The exact same prayers?

SPENCER

One after the other, like a chant.

MITCHELL

Over and over?

SPENCER

Pretty much.

MITCHELL

Huh.

BEAT

MITCHELL

That don’t make a lick ‘a sense.

SPENCER

You’re not Catholic.

MITCHELL

What the fuck, man? How could God accept that as an apology?

SPENCER

Could be just like sugar pills, I don’t know.

MITCHELL

You just keep saying...fuck! Might as wellset out a hot bowl of soup for Him.

Do the same thing. What the fuck is this world coming to, Spence?

SPENCER

Falling to pieces and nobody’s picking it up...least of all us.

MITCHELL

Right. (beat) Here’s what I believe in:

There are 3 gods and they were all born in an acorn.

For the first time in this scene, Spencer glances over at him, wondering what the hell Mitchell is talking about.

MITCHELL

Yeah, there’s Gary, Steve, and Barbara.

See Gary...Gary’s the god of stuff.

SPENCER

Stuff?

MITCHELL

Stuff.

BEAT.

MITCHELL

Everyday stuff, like this car, this ice bag, marshmallow fluff, everything. The day

to day things. And Steve, he’s the god of being a man.

SPENCER

So, if you’re a woman you’re fucked when it comes to Steve?

MITCHELL

I’m getting to that. Keep your skirt on.

Steve’s the guy who gives you balls when you need them. Say, say you just dropped something really heavy on your foot or you twisted your ankle. It hurts so bad that you’re six years old again and all you want to do is cry. You pray to Steve and he gives you the strength to cowboy

up and just grunt, “nah, nah, I’m fine.”

SPENCER

Right.

MITCHELL

Then there’s Barbara. Now she’s a goddess, so I figure she’s going to handle everything else.

SPENCER

Everything?

MITCHELL

Yeah, everything. Keep up.

SPENCER

How come she gets that huge load on her shoulders?

MITCHELL

She’s a woman. She’s got all that shit in her fucking purse. And none of these gods

believe in sin, especially not that Catholic bullshit that you’re born with it.

SPENCER

Must be convenient.

MITCHELL

You saying you actually believe in original sin?

SPENCER

Yeah. That way at least I have something that I never had to steal or had to win.

MITCHELL

Well, I’m telling you, my way’s better.

And it’s no less reasonable than any other religion.

SPENCER

Mitch, I’ve had guns pointed at me. I’ve had people try to kill me. But I ain’t ever

been so scared as when I stop to think that I have no idea why I’m here or what my

place in the world is. So I guess I just ask a few more questions than what your

dogma’s able to answer.

BEAT

MITCHELL

Sometimes I think that it must suck to be you, Spence.

SPENCER

Yeah.