TRAILER COURT

By Mark Sparks 

marksparks01@fuse.net     

WGA# 820605

 

 

Fade in

SUPER: Bellwad, Kentucky 1999

Ext. rural valley - DAY

A bank of dark clouds moves toward a TRAILER PARK at the edge of a small town. Thunder rumbles, the wind picks up. A big storm is coming.

Ext. Trailer

An old brown model with lots of yard debris and a large SATELLITE DISH by the porch.

Int. Trailer

A TV SCREEN fills the frame. A Bass fishing show fades and breaks up as the storm affects the reception. LIGHTNING flashes outside, the screen goes blank.

A caption "Searching for signal.." appears onscreen.

Man's voice (o.S.)

Damn sattylite!

Ext. trailer 

The MAN steps out onto the porch. A DOG barks loudly OS. The MAN spits tobacco juice toward the noise. A YELP, the barking stops.

The man is EDDIE PRICE, early thirties. A likeable, yet stereotypical n'er-do-well, he sports a stained tank top and cutoff jeans. His lean face is surrounded by a scraggly beard, an old ball cap rests atop stringy brown hair.

Lightning FLASHES and thunder ROARS. The WIND picks up.

EDDIE squints toward the storm, smiles broadly.

EDDIE

TWISTER!!

But there is no panic. EDDIE whoops with delight, joins several other trailer park RESIDENTS in the lane in front of his trailer. They taunt the oncoming twister(not yet seen) with guns and lawn tools.

The WIND and ROARING increase as the tornado approaches.

EDDIE raises a VIDEO CAMERA and begins filming.

 

Ext. office building - DAY

A huge modern structure with immaculate landscaping.

SUPER: CNN Headquarters   Atlanta    One week later

Int. Private office

A well-dressed man in his 50's sits behind a large walnut desk. He is looking over a resume. A gold nameplate on the desk reads, "Randall Graves  Div. Manager".

A MAN in a double-breasted suit sits across from Graves. He is MIKE ALLEN, early thirties. A good natured guy trying to hide the fact that he's never quite sure of himself. A guy you would never figure for a tv tabloid reporter.

MIKE looks around the large, impressively furnished office and the many reporting awards adorning the walls.

GRAVES lays the resume on his desk, takes note of Mike's olive suit and loud tie.

Graves

Well, Mike, you've had a productive career on your show, uhh..

Mike

Hard Line.

GRAVES

Yes, right. Tabloid type stuff.

MIKE

We do a lot of, you know, story behind the story coverage

GRAVEs

Right...So after nine years in tabloid, why do you want to be a reporter for CNN?

MIKE leans forward, surprisingly sincere.

MIKE

I've always dreamed of working at a national network.  In spite of the success I've had at Hard Line, I don't feel my work is taken, you know, seriously.

GRAVES smiles politely.

GRAVES

Well, that's to be expected, especially among those of us in the more, ahh, "traditional" media.

GRAVES pulls a VHS tape from his desk drawer.

GRAVES

For example, on your demo tape,  I had hoped to see you covering at least some form of real news. Instead, you have an expose' on Bigfoot and your interview with Tonya Harding.

MIKE shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

GRAVES

Quite frankly, it's not what we would call "real news".

GRAVES lays the tape on top of the resume.

GRAVES

However, you do have good on-camera presence and some potential, which is why we agreed to at least meet with you.

MIKE sighs, looks at the prominent CNN logo on the wall behind Graves. Reality sets in.

MIKE

I wish I'd done things differently. I went to a very small journalism school, and Hard Line  was the only place that offered me a job after I graduated.

GRAVES

Why did you stay there all this time?

MIKE

It was the first real money I ever made, I guess. And the work was--

GRAVES

Easy?

MIKE smiles weakly.

GRAVES  leans back, nods toward his awards.

GRAVES

Listen, you want to work at CNN?  Go cover some REAL news. No bullshit.

GRAVES stares at Mike's tie.

GRAVES

..And no polyester.

MIKE quickly looks down.

GRAVES

Get out there and dig, break a big story. Maybe we'll talk. 

 

Ext. Hard line hq - day

SUPER:    Hard Line headquarters    Los Angeles

An older office bulding. Smaller, less attractive than the CNN complex.

MIKE trudges up the steps to the main entrance.

Int. Hard line staff area

MIKE weaves through the cubicles in a busy newsroom.

Small bits of  conversations: "You get the pictures back on that midget lesbian story?",  "I got a guy on the line who says he has O.J. Simpson's knife.."

MIKE sits in his cubicle, stares off into space.

A woman's SMILING FACE pops up over the cubicle wall. She is ALICE QUINN, late twenties, Mike's TOO perky assistant.

ALICE

(whispering)

Hey Mike,  how'd it go with CNN?

MIKE

Shhh. Keep it down.

ALICE

Your secret's safe.

MIKe

I think they  interviewed me as a courtesy, or just for kicks.

ALICE

Sounds like you're stuck with us bush leaguers a while  longer.

MIKE waves his arm toward the newsroom.

MIKE

They want to see me do real news, but I'm going to have a hard time finding that in here. 

ALICE

You'll get your chance, hon.

ALICE hands Mike several lead files and a manilla envelope.

ALICe

These came in while you were gone.

MIKE

Great, let's see what's in this week's sleaze pile..

He holds up the MANILLA ENVELOPE. The crude writing is barely legible. 

INSERT -  ENVELOPE

E. Price, #19 Turnip Creek Mobile Village  Bellwad, Ky.

BACK TO SCENE

ALICE swings around the cubicle wall, smiles broadly.

ALICE

You might want to look at that one first.  The guy who sent it called this morning.

MIKE's mouth falls open.

MIKE

 My God, Eddie Price...You talked to him?

ALICE

Uh-huh. He watches our show, says he knew you years ago, and was checking to see if you'd received his package.

MIKE opens the envelope, pulls out a VHS tape.

MIKE

What the hell is this?

ALICE

(chuckles)

Well, your pal Eddie claims that the trailer park he lives in is immune to tornados, and this home video proves it.

MIKE

Eddie's trailer park?  That hole used to get nailed by tornados once or twice a year.

ALICE

He  wants you to use his video on our show.

MIKE looks at the tape and laughs.

MIKE

Eddie Price. Bellwad, Kentucky.  I haven't heard either one mentioned in 20 years.

ALICE

Hey, isn't that the place your parents sent you to live in when you were only about eleven or--

MIKE

Yeah, yeah, I know. Listen, you take these...

MIKE thrusts the LEAD FILES  into Alice's hands.

MIKE

...and start going through them.

MIKE exits, leaves ALICE with the arm load of files.

Int. - editing room

MIKE sits down in front of a tv/vcr.  He looks at the tape for a moment, puts it in.

MIKE

Eddie...This should be interesting.

VIDEO

 

Ext. Trailer park -DAY

The first onscreen images are shaky, from the POV of a video camera  carried at a fast walk.  Muffled shouts are heard OS.                                 

The picture clears briefly, jerks around as two SQUAWKING KIDS try to grab the camera.

Kid's voices (O.S.)

Lemme see! C'Mon, Eddie, Lemme see!

EDDIE curses as he attempts to fend them off. A  dog BARKS loudly OS.

Eddie (O.S.)

Shhaaaaddduuuuupp!!!!

The dog barks LOUDER.

The picture steadies. We have  a clear view down one of the gravel lanes between a ROW OF TRAILERS. In FG, a number of TRAILER PARK RESIDENTS wave firearms and shovels towards a rapidly approaching storm cloud. Some struggle to light cigarettes in the  wind.

EDDIE turns the camera around in an exaggerated close-up on his toothy, tobacco-stained grin.

EDDIE

Here comes the fuckin' twister and it's a biggun!

Int. Editing room

MIKE stares disbelievingly at Eddie's image.

ALICE slips into the editing room, stands a few feet behind him.

VIDEO

Ext. TraILER PARK - DAY

A fully formed TORNADO advances on the trailer park , swirling and roaring like the proverbial freight train.  In FG, RESIDENTS  take steps backward. They shout at the twister, give it the finger.

A KID on a banana seat BIKE enters frame, with his middle finger directed at the camera.  Eddie curses.

The dog BARKING intensifies.

Another  LURCH of the camera, a THUMP OS, the dog YELPS.

Woman's voice (O.S.)

Take the picture! It's comin', hurry, take it!!

The camera quickly pans right to reveal a SHIRTLESS MAN trying to work a camera while his WIFE gripes at him from the porch of a trailer.

Shirtless man

Whar's the goddamn film?! There ain't no film, you stupid bitch!

Int. EDITING ROOM

ALICE cracks up laughing, startles Mike. He glares at her.

VIDEO

Ext. TRAILER PARK

The  towering tornado CHURNS in place at the edge of the trailer park.  Around the funnel swirl thin ribbons of static charge.

Eddie (o.S.)

Holy sheeyiit!!

Now the TORNADO moves around the trailers, doing no damage--as if the trailers were protected by a force field.

The RESIDENTS cheer, fire guns at the retreating twister.

EDDIE turns the camera on himself to complete his "wrap-up". A soggy, broken cigarette hangs from his lip. Rain-soaked residents mill about in BG, per usual, trying to light cigarettes.

EDDIE

Hey,  Mikey boy! Betcha thought you'd never see me again!

The KID ON THE BIKE rides through the frame, SPITS on the back of Eddie's head.  Eddie doesn't notice. 

The dog begins BARKING again OS.

The LOW BATTERY warning appears. The picture starts to fade.

EDDIE

That twister ain't got the balls to mess with us! It used to kick our ass, but not no more! You should put me on tv, an--

The SCREEN goes blank.

Int. EDITING ROOM

MIKE stares at the screen, stunned.

ALICE (o.S.)

I guess he wasn't kidding.

MIKE

Jesus Christ..

ALICE

There's something else, Mike.  Eddie said that this has happened four other times over the last two years.

 

MIKE quickly runs the tape backwards to where the tornado detours around the trailers.  He watches the footage intently, pauses on the CLOSE UP of Eddie's face.

 

ALICE

You think the video's a fake?

MIKE

I doubt if Eddie's technological expertise goes beyond fly swatters and duct tape. This thing's too ridiculous NOT to be real.

ALICE

When has that ever mattered to us?

A new gleam in his eye, MIKE smiles.

MIKE

This may not be politics or war, but it could be big scientific news. REAL news, just like CNN wants.

ALICE

THIS is going to be your "real news" story? You really are desperate to get out of here.

MIKE

We do have the inside track...

ALICE

A tornado that's afraid of trailer parks? Hello?! This isn't what CNN does, this is the kind of crap WE do.

MIKE

CNN covers weather. Hurricanes, blizzards--and tornados.

ALICE

When they flatten some town in Oklahoma, not when they get chased by hillbillies waving pitchforks.

MIKE stiffens.

MIKE

This COULD be real. If Elvis was alive, or somebody actually caught Bigfoot, CNN would cover it.

ALICE

Jeez..

MIKE

(a tad pathetic)

This might be my only shot.

ALICE shakes her head, but has to smile. There has always been something endearing in Mike's misguided ways.

She pats his shoulders, points to Eddie's face on the tv.

ALICE

Sure, why not? After all, you get to go back to the trailer park and have a little reunion with your buddy!

MIKE does an about-face as he realizes that covering the story means a trip back to Bellwad. He looks at the freeze frame of Eddie. Suddenly, it "winks" at him.

MIKE

Oh God.

MIKE blinks, looks closer at Eddie's image.

ALICE

See, I said you'd get your chance. Good things eventually happen to good people.

MIKE  stares at the tv.

MIKE

Maybe Hard Line isn't so bad after all.

ALICE

(from door)

I'll start getting everything together. You'll need a camera crew, and plane tickets. I guess there's an airport near that place?

MIKE

Uh-hmmm..

ALICE

Congratulations, hon, by this time tomorrow, you'll be back in Bellwad!

MIKE  manages an apprehensive smile.

 

Int. Airplane - next morning

MIKE sits deep in his coach section aisle seat, relaxes with a  vodka screwdriver.

A fuzzy haired, nerdy little man seated next to Mike goes through a small equipment bag.  He is BRUCE GOODMAN, late thirties, a Hard Edition cameraman, a sour urbanite with little patience for anyone. His demeanor strongly suggests he would rather be somewhere else.

Both are dressed in the uniform of the California casual: golf shirts and docker slacks.

OS are exaggerated sounds of someone with a bad head cold.

BRUCE looks up slowly to see a YOUNG BOY,2, looking back over the seat directly in front of him.

The YOUNG BOY sports a thick moustache of snot.

BRUCE CRINGES, looks away. 

Avoiding eye contact with the boy, BRUCE observes Mike savoring his drink. He checks his watch. 

Bruce

A might early for screwdriver, no?

MIKE

It's already noon where we're going.

BRUCE

I get called at midnight and told to be at the airport at 6 AM so I can fly 2000 miles to hicksville and take pictures of trailers? I'M the one who should be drinking.

MIKE

I'd think you would be happy to cover some real news for a change.

BRUCE eyes Mike suspiciously.

BRUCE

Some bizarre shit in a trailer park is real news? What have you been huffing?

MIKE

It's real scientific news.

BRUCE

Right, "real news". Then why don't we have a three man crew?  Why do I have to handle both the camera AND sound?

MIKE

Because....nobody else knows about this.  We want to, uhh, keep a lid on it.

BRUCE

What?

 

An attractive FLIGHT ATTENDANT stops, picks up Mike's empty  glass.

He starts to ask her for another, but holds off under Bruce's glare.

BRUCE

Alice said you know this hillbilly that sent in the tornado tape.

MIKE casually admires the flight attendant's REAR END as she makes her way up the aisle.

BRUCE

Well...?

MIKE takes a deep breath.

MIKE

All right.  My grandmother lived next door to the guy. I spent a couple of years with her when I was a kid.

BRUCE half-smiles, expecting a "gotcha".

BRUCE

Wait, you lived in a trailer park? In Kentucky?  You're shitting me!  

MIKE

(defensive)

It wasn't my choice, all right? 

 

Ext. TrAILER PARK - DAY - flashback

11 year-old MIKE is on the front step of his grandmother's trailer, watching his mother load her luggage into a weathered VW minibus.  Peering out the van's window is a scraggly HIPPIE with a winestain birthmark covering much of his face.

Mike's GRANDMOTHER, ELSIE, 75, stands beside Mike.  She wears a thick bathrobe, large horn-rimmed glasses, and VERY large orthopaedic slippers.  Mike's flower child wannabe MOTHER sports bell bottom jeans and a tall, wild hairdo.

MIKE (v.O.)

After my folks split up, Mom wanted to rediscover her youth. So she dumped me on Grandma and followed the Grateful Dead around with a hop head who had a birthmark that looked like he'd been giving head to a blackberry pie.

MIKE'S MOM waves from the van, slides in next to the purple-faced hippie.

Mike's mom

You mind your Grandma, Mikey, and help her with the litter boxes!

At least a dozen cats are all about. One crouches next to Grandma, sharpens it claws on her leg.  She ignores it, her attention  drawn to a fluff of CAT FUR moving slowly in the breeze.

LITTLE MIKE waves back. His chin quivers, looks up to his Grandmother for comfort. She LAUGHS eerily as one of the cats swipes at the FURBALL.

MIKE'S MOM motions toward a YOUNG BOY leaning against the next-door trailer.

The BOY pump-cocks a BB gun,  eyes the cats with  gleeful anticipation.

Mike'S MOM

Be good and I'll be back for you soon.  Have fun playing with your new friend Eddie there.  Love ya!

The BOY is indeed a 12 year-old version of EDDIE from the video. Everything is the same-- long hair, ballcap, and even a fairly decent growth of beard!

LITTLE EDDIE hawks, spits, gives Mike a nodding grin.

LITTLE MIKE'S jaw drops. He turns at the SQUASHING sound of the MINIBUS backing out over several children's toys, which are scattered about the trailer park like land mines.

LITTLE MIKE waves slowly, pitifully, to his mother.

GRANDMA Grabs at another floating piece of fur.

MIKE'S MOM waves one last time as the MINIBUS pulls away.

A pained YOWLING noise draws Mike's attention down and to his right, where two writhing CATS are stuck "en coitus".

GRANDMA again laughs her sharp, crazy old lady CACKLE.

 

Int. Airplane - present day

MIKE stares ahead, glazed over at the recollection.

BRUCE

So Grandma was a cat lady?

MIKE

She was a good woman. Half crackers, but good.

BRUCE

Jeez, two years living in that place.

MIKE

Two years being winked at by cat's rectums.

BRUCE tries  to supress  a laugh.

MIKE

I'm serious.  It's not just the trailer park, that whole area isn't right.  Strange shit happens around there. I mean X-files, Twin Peaks kinds of shit.

BRUCE

Oh Great.  Is your Grandmother still around?

MIKE

Well, about five years after I left...

DISSOLVE TO:

Ext. GRANDMA'S TRAILER - fLASHBACK

LIGHTNING flashes brilliantly. Wind and rain swirl debris about the trailer.

Int. Grandma's trailer - flASHBACK - thunderstorm - DAY

GRANDMA attempts to enhance the reception of the Match Game show on small TV set.  Way too much tin foil is  strewn from the rabbit ears. It twists and trails out an open window.

Ext. GrandMA'S TRAILER - thunderstorm

The lightning FLASHES intensify. A long strand of FOIL extends a dozen feet out the trailer window. The wind flails it about like a loose fire hose.

CLOSE ON: A dark CLOUD shoots a large bolt of LIGHTNING,

Followed by a blinding FLASH and BOOM along with several high-pitched feline YOWLS as the bolt makes a direct hit on the trailer.

 

Int. AiRPLANE -pRESENT DAY

MIKE

I guess whatever's protecting the trailer park from tornados doesn't work on lightning.

BRUCE

(open mouthed)

Now THAT sounds like a story our show would do. 

MIKE

Yeah.

BRUCE

So your mom finally came back for you.

MIKE

One day she just showed up--without Deep Purple--and I left Bellwad for what I thought would be forever.

BRUCE

You never went back?

MIKE

(shaking his head)

Mom and I moved to Illinois, I went to school, and eventually wound up out in L.A. On Hard Edition.

BRUCE

How come you never told anybody this?

MIKE

What, about how I came from an ass-backward family and lived in a trailer park full of cats and lawn ornaments?  That'll go over real well in L.A.

BRUCE

I've never been to an actual trailer park.

MIKE

You're missing out on some major weirdness.

BRUCE

In fact, the only time I hear anything about trailer parks is when--

MIKE

They get smashed  by a tornado.

 

Ext. kentucky countryside - later that day

A clear, beautiful afternoon with plenty of sunshine.

SLOW ZOOM DOWN TO: A lone white minivan winds through the picturesque countryside. Thick patches of woods and rolling fields dotted with grazing farm animals.

Int. Rental van

MIKE is driving. BRUCE rests his arm out the open window, taking in the scenery and fresh air. Both wear sunglasses and look like tourists.

BRUCE

So  where's all the shacks and moonshine stills?

MIKE

You watch too much TV.

BRUCE

This isn't so bad, kind of like outdoors magazines.  Maybe I should get out of the city sometime.

BRUCE pulls out a 35mm, snaps a picture of some cattle grazing on a hillside.

BRUCE

I hear that a bull can shoot his load through an engine block.

MIKE looks at Bruce incredulously.

MIKE

Hang onto that sense of humor. You're going to need it in Bellwad.

BRUCE

What are you saying?

 

MIKE points to the roadside up ahead.

Mike

There's your first omen right there.

Ext. Country road - DAY

The VAN slows as it passes a bullet-riddled metal sign reading:  "BELLWAD 18 MILES".

Atop the sign is perched a large black CROW, which caws and arches its wings as the van goes by.

Int. Van

BRUCE looks back at the crow, sits back in his seat. He looks concerned.

Almost on cue, it grows darker in the van. BRUCE  leans forward, looks up at the sky.

BRUCE

Where'd all those clouds come from?

Ext. Country road - DAY

The VAN continues down the road under what had been a clear blue sky, but now contains a number of large, greyish clouds, obscuring the sun.

Ext. COUNTRY ROAD - momENTS LATER

FROM BEHIND: A beat-up old PICKUP TRUCK moves quickly on the van. It HONKS its horn urgently before moving around to pass.

Int. Van

The TRUCK pulls alongside.  BRUCE realizes that the passenger sitting snugly beside the driver is not a devoted wife or girlfriend, but a SHEEP wearing a WOMAN'S BONNET.

MIKE sees this, but says nothing, stares straight ahead.

The TRUCK passes, soon leaves the van behind.

BRUCE  clears his throat loudly, waits for some form of comment or explanation.

MIKE ignores him. BRUCE gives up, surfs the radio for acceptable music. 

Each time he locates a signal,  different versions of the same thing:

(In rapid succession)

...Jesus...Blessed...Lord God....Chevy Dealer...Jesus...biscuit mix...Jesus...

Ext. COUNTRY ROAD - DAY

The VAN approaches a series of crudely drawn signs placed about 100 feet apart so as to read like book pages.

The  words have been written in reddish-brown "finger paint"(suggesting blood).

BRUCE'S POV:

>1 MILE AHEAD > LIVE BAIT > AMMO > TANNING BED > HERBALIFE DISTRIBUTOR

Ext. Field next to country road - momENTS LATER

The VAN is parked at the side of the road.

MIKE relieves himself by a fence bordering an empty field surrounded by steep hills.

BRUCE leans against the van, looking at the wooded hillsides. 

A SOUND somewhere between a squawk and a deep growl drifts out of the woods and across the field.

BRUCE looks nervously in the direction of the sound. He sees only the thick treeline.

BRUCE checks around for cars, starts to unzip his own fly when he notices something next to the fence.

A few steps closer reveals the bleached BONES of a deer.

BRUCE picks up two ANTLERS, turns to Mike with them held over his head in a lousy reindeer imitation.

BRUCE

(high-pitched voice)

Hey, Santa, where's the women reindeer?  Ho-ho-ho!

MIKE zips up, starts back toward the van, looks back toward the woods.

MIKE

Remember where we are, man.  I Wouldn't be prancing around like a game animal if I were you.

BRUCE blows and snorts like a buck in the rut. He stomps and paws the ground with his feet.

BRUCE

I need to get me some of that reindeer tail! Me'n the elves are goin' out drinkin', then--

A gunshot SHATTERS the van's sideview mirror, only a few feet from Bruce.

BRUCE

(flinging antlers away)

SHIT!!!!

They are back in the van in seconds. MIKE throws it into gear, hits the gas as another bullet SMACKS into the road in front of the van.

The van's TIRES churn gravel and dirt into a cloud as the van speeds away, disappears over a hill.

Int. VaN - momENTS LATER

MIKE drives on, eyes glued to the road.

The weight of silence grows heavy on Bruce.  He looks over at Mike, his anger grows.

BRUCE

You know, Madonna threw boiling water on me when I tried to stick a camera through her bedroom window, and Tommy Lee once chased me with a chainsaw, but nobody ever shot at me. You said this place was weird, not fucking dangerous.

MIKE

In case you forgot, we cover news, and sometimes these things happen. If we're careful, we'll be fine.   

BRUCE

Oh right, I keep forgetting we're on this "real news" mission. Winding up like Ned Beatty is not my idea of real news.

MIKE shakes his head. Nothing like sarcasm from soneone you don't like.

BRUCE

Let's just get this job over with and get out of here before we get corn holed by one of these pumpkin rollers.

MIKE starts to respond but his eye catches something familiar.

Ext. Bridge at edge of town - DAY

BRUCE'S POV: The van passes another bullet-holed SIGN, serving as a perch for another large black crow.

CLOSE ON: - SIGN

"BELLWAD (unincorporated) est. 1839"

The VAN slowly crosses the bridge.

BRUCE looks down at the creek below. Sitting on a rock, looking straight back at him, is a short-haired, barefoot YOUNG MAN picking a banjo.

The YOUNG MAN, strongly resembles the sullen banjo player from Deliverance. He gives Bruce an impish, toothless grin.

BRUCE quickly puts the window up.

Ext. bellwad - DAY

The VAN moves slowly down Turtle St., draws  stares from what few townspeople move about in the mid day heat.

Bellwad itself is very small, spread out community of about 500 on the banks of Turnip Creek, which drains into the Ohio River 26 miles downstream. The town has changed little over the last 30 years, and supports but a few businesses, all on Turtle St. In lieu of a park or town square, the centerpiece is  a single-pump gas station with a sign on the door warning that they do not accept checks, credit cards, or confederate scrip.

Life is simple in Bellwad.  Simply rural, simply minded, and simply bizarre.

Int. VaN

MIKE looks back and forth at the town he hasn't seen in over 20 years. Although somewhat nostalgic, he feels uncomfortable and out of place.

 

BRUCE rolls his window down and shakes his head.

BRUCE

Not many people in this burg.

MIKE

Oh they're here, you just won't see many of them moving about in the mid day heat. Like reptiles.

BRUCE

I have to say, this sucks. There's nothing here. Look at this shit...

As the van passes, ClOSE UP ON:

BUSINESS SIGNS:

EAT

BERTHA'S TAN-N-BAIT

INCOMING ROUNDS - paintball supplies - ammo - lizard repellant

TAMMY'S BAR AND VIDEO RENTAL

 

INT. VAN

MIKE

Hey, check him out over there..