"ADOLF DREAMS OF AMERICA"
BY CHUCK and FLINT
NEL YOMTOV, EDITOR
BIG JOE KUBERT STYLE SPREAD HERE.
Lawdog's bad ride goes slewing along the road in a cloud of dust and hi-octane exhaust as German soldiers in nineties version military vehicles blaze away at it. That walking machine gets in some shots as well. The road and shoulders and all around the skidding Lawride turn to a free fire zone with crossing tracers and flying bits of asphalt.
CAPTION: RUNNING FROM NAZIS IN NORTH DAKOTA.
CAPTION: PANZER GRENADIERS. BLACK SHIRTS.
CAPTION: THEY'VE GOT AMERICA BY THE BALLS ON THIS PLANE AND THEY MEAN TO KEEP THEIR GRIP.
Lawdog fights the wheel as 'lina covers up. Shit goes flying inside the car including those open bags of snacks that 'lina was munching.
'LINA: SHOULDN'T WE BE DRIVING AWAY?
LAWDOG: WORK IN CLOSE. TOO CLOSE FOR THE BIG GUNS TO TRAIN ON US.
German troops fall by a tracked vehicle as Lawdog's hood mounted guns open up. Bullets tear up the landscape in the foreground.
FROM CAR: FIND A GAP AND SHOVE THROUGH IT.
FROM CAR: IF THERE'S NO GAP...
The Lawride sideswipes the tracked vehicle knocking it aside with an explosion of flying debris. The Germans who aren't already dead leap for cover.
FROM CAR: WE MAKE ONE!
FROM CAR: HANG ON TO SOMETHING!
Downshot past the walker machine as the Lawride slews across the road blasting Germans out of their boots. The walker spins it's guns to track the 'dog's car.
FROM CAR: NO GOOD!
FROM CAR: I HATE IT WHEN YOU SAY THAT! WHAT IS IT, LAWDOG?
FROM CAR: THE WALKER...
Lawdog looks into the rearview to see the feet of the walker behind him and troops firing after the 'dogmobile.
LAWDOG: ...ITS GUNS TRANSVERSE THREE SIXTY. WE'RE IN ITS CURVE AND IT'S MOUNTING SOME MAJOR CANNONS.
'LINA: WHAT'S THAT MEAN IN ENGLISH?
Low angle shot. The car roars toward us and the roadway all around it gets blasted to shit by fire from the turning walker's main guns.
FROM CAR: WE'RE SCREWED!
Reverse angle on the last panel of the previous page. The walker is struck from off panel by a rocket that snakes toward it and blows the turret apart with lots of flame arcs and shrapnel.
FROM CAR: YOU DID IT, LAWDOG!
Shot of 'lina hanging out the open window looking back with a grin on her face as her hair blows around in the windshear. Lawdog is at the wheel.
'LINA: THOSE SQUAREHEADS ARE TOAST!
LAWDOG: IT WASN'T ME, 'LINA. I DIDN'T DO THAT.
'LINA: THEN WHO DID?
Large panel. The 'dogmobile slews to a stop as a couple of pick-up trucks and a motorcycle roar past it. The pick-ups have guns mounted in the back. One has a quad anti-aircraft gun and the other a cannon. The cannon smokes. There's all kinds of armed civilians in the trucks and on the motorcycles. They look like partisan freedom fighters crossed with Super Bowl tourists. They are armed to the teeth and mean looking. Mix up the racial types and nationalities. Throw in some American flags and stuff like that.
FROM CAR: THEY DID.
The trucks are pulled up to a stop and fire with every available weapon at the Germans down the road. These good ol' boys have all kinds of stuff from big bore hunting rifles to stolen German arms.
The walker (its turret all blasted to shit) falls in flames onto the German vehicles. Some soldiers run and others are blasted to crap by gunfire from off panel.
Big old explosion as the walker's fuel nacelles and the vehicle's fuel tanks and ammo stores explode throwing arcs of burning gas all over the place. German vehicles are brushed aside like toys and lots of soldiers are called to Heaven unexpectedly.
The motorcyclist has pulled alongside Lawdog. He's a big black guy. His name is Cletus. He has a German tailored flak vest on over a flannel hunting shirt and jeans. He wears goggles and his head is tied with an American flag bandana. A Steven James type. He jerks a thumb back up the road where a HUGE cloud of burning gas and Nazis smears acros the big sky. Lawdog leans from his window to speak to him. The cycle has a sidecar which is nothing but a mount for a gatling gun style mini-gun controlled from the handlebars. YO JOE!
CLETUS: WHOEVER YOU ARE, YOU BETTER HAUL ASS AFTER US, MISTER.
CLETUS: THOSE PECKERHEADS WILL SURE AS HELL'VE CALLED IN AIR SUPPORT BY NOW.
The 'dogmobile tears down the highway after the trucks and motorcycle.
FROM 'LINA'S SIDE: WHO ARE THESE GUYS?
FROM 'DOG'S: FREEDOM FIGHTERS. PARTISANS. LOOKS LIKE THEY'VE BEEN FIGHTING FOR SOME TIME.
FROM 'LINA'S SIDE: I GUESS.
'lina leans back with an arm resting on the open window ledge. The wind blows through her hair.
LAWDOG: SO MANY VARIABLES. IT'S HARD TO TELL WHAT'S GOOD NEWS AND WHAT'S BAD ON SOME PLANES.
'LINA: AT LEAST THEY'RE WEARING THE STARS AND STRIPES, RIGHT? MAKES YOU FEEL BETTER ABOUT THINGS, RIGHT?
Lawdog in the foreground as we reverse angles. 'lina looks at him.
LAWDOG: THERE WAS NO AMERICA IN MY WORLD. AT LEAST IT HADN'T EXISTED FOR A HUNDRED YEARS.
'LINA: BUMMER. YOUR WORLD DOESN'T SOUND LIKE IT WAS SUCH A GREAT PLACE.
LAWDOG: IT WAS ALL I HAD.
The trucks and cycle pull down an incline and into some deep woods with the 'dogmobile running behind.
FROM CAR: SORRY, LAWDOG. I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT WHERE YOU COME FROM.
FROM CAR: DOESN'T MATTER. IT'S NOT THERE ANYMORE SO WHY WOULD IT MATTER?
Armed partisans sit at a camoflaged machine gun post in the foreground as the car and trucks and motorcycle pull into a concrete framed opening in the side of a steep wooded hill.
FROM CAR: SO TELL ME SOMETHING ABOUT YOUR WORLD. DID YOU HAVE MUSIC? LIKE ROCK AND ROLL?
FROM CAR: WE WERE SPARED THAT AGONY.
Lawdog is stepping from the car as Cletus walks up to him. The trucks are parked along with some other vehicles at a loading dock kind of arrangement. The walls are poured concrete and girders. There are armed guys milling around. The tunnel disappears in darkness.
CLETUS: IT AIN'T MUCH BUT IT'S HOME. USED TO PULL IRON AND LEAD OUT OF THE HILLS HERE YEARS BACK.
LAWDOG: DON'T THE GERMANS KNOW ABOUT THIS PLACE?
CLETUS: MAYBE THEY DO. DON'T THINK THEY HAVE THE GUTS TO COME INTO THE DEEP DEEP WOODS THESE DAYS.
They stand just inside the opening as 'lina gets out of the car in the foreground. Cletus points upward.
CLETUS: MAN, LOOKS LIKE I WAS RIGHT ABOUT THE AIR SUPPORT. THEY GOT SOME JUNKERS UP IN THE AIR IN A HURRY.
LAWDOG: WHY DON'T THEY JUST BOMB YOU OUT OF HERE?
Downshot. Two stubby jet planes streak low over the woods. They are arcane looking with bubble canopies with a pilot and rear facing gunner and nose mounted guns. They bear Luftwaffe markings and any customizing you care to come up with.
CAPTION: "THE HEINIES ARE A STRETCHED A LITTLE THIN THESE DAYS. A SATURATION BOMBING RUN'S A LITTLE OUT OF THEIR LEAGUE."
CAPTION: "THE USA TURNED OUT TO BE A LITTLE TOO BIG A BITE FOR THEM. WE'RE NOT THE ONLY GUERRILLA GROUP."
Lawdog and Cletus shake hands in the foreground. 'lina leans on the car behind them.
CLETUS: WE CALL OURSELVES THE POSSE AMERICANUS. MY NAME IS CLETUS FRAZIER.
'LINA: I'M 'LINA. HE CALLS HIMSELF LAWDOG.
CLETUS: YEAH. WELL, LOTS OF FOLKS DON'T GIVE THEIR RIGHT NAMES THESE DAYS. I UNDERSTAND.
'lina turns in the foreground and Lawdog and Cletus follow her gaze.
OFF PANEL: YOU STILL PICKIN' UP STRAYS, CLETE? YOU PAT THESE TWO DOWN FOR PAPERS?
A big Indian comes up wearing a flak vest over a T-shirt and a western style gunbelt. He's got a weaselly looking little longhaired creep with him. 'lina is turned to him in the foreground. The Indian is named Marlon. He's big all over like a football linebacker and has a Bucky Beaver kind of face and buzzcut crew cut.
MARLON: I'LL STRIP SEARCH THE BABE. YOU CAN FRISK THE STUD, CLETE.
'LINA: NOT IN YOUR WETTEST DREAMS, CHUNKY.
Marlon fingers the Iron Cross on 'lina's jacket with a frown. She's grabbed his wrist to pull his hand away.
MARLON: HEY. THIS BITCH HAS ONE OF THEIR MEDALS ON.
'LINA: HANDS OFF, CHIEF. I BOUGHT THAT AT A METALLICA CONCERT.
MARLON: SHE'S TALKING TRASH, CLETE.
Cletus steps up with Lawdog and Marlon backs away bumping into Weasel. 'lina glares at Marlon.
CLETUS: BACK UP, MARLON. THESE TWO JUST ROUSTED A ROADBLOCK OUT ON THE ROAD TO NEW TORGAU. I'LL VOUCH FOR THEM.
MARLON: SURE. BUT I'M KEEPIN' AN EYE ON THIS ONE.
'LINA: YOU DO THAT.
Cletus walks into the foreground and 'lina and Lawdog follow him down a corridor carved from the rock that's lined with bare bulbs for lighting.
CLETUS: COME ON. WE DON'T HAVE MUCH BUT I CAN OFFER YOU A DECENT MEAL IF YOU DON'T MIND TURNIPS.
LAWDOG: THROW THAT MEDALLION AWAY.
'LINA: I PAID TEN BUCKS FOR IT.
LAWDOG: GET RID OF IT.
They ride a freight elevator kind of deal that runs down a slanting shaft into the mine. The supports for the elevator have bare bulbs mounted on it for light.
CLETUS: DON'T MIND MARLON. HE'S A LITTLE TOUCHY ABOUT STRANGERS.
'LINA: HE'S AN INDIAN, RIGHT?
CLETUS: LAKOTA. HE'S GOT A CHIP ON HIS SHOULDER 'CAUSE OF WHAT HAPPENED TO HIS PEOPLE.
Closer shot. Lawdog looks over the side of the open elevator. 'lina talks with Cletus.
'LINA: WERE THEY, LIKE, PUT IN CONCENTRATION CAMPS?
CLETUS: THEY WERE RECRUITED. NAZIS SOLD THEM SOME LINE OF BULLSHIT ABOUT GIVING THE LAND BACK TO THEM IN EXCHANGE FOR THEIR HELP.
'LINA: THAT DOESN'T MAKE SENSE.
Cletus looks bitter in a close shot.
CLETUS: WHAT DOES ANYMORE? WE GOT WHITE SUPREMACIST ASSHOLES TALKING ABOUT RACIAL PRIDE AND SOME FOLKS LAP IT UP WITH A SPOON.
CLETUS: SOME BLACK FOLKS TOO. AIN'T THAT A PISSER?
They're stepping off the elevator into a chamber lined with drums and crates.
CLETUS: I GUESS THAT'S WHY THEY CALL IT "THE BIG LIE".
CLETUS: THEY'RE JUST TELLING PEOPLE WHAT THEY WANT TO BELIEVE.
We cut to a dining area. It has a low beamed ceiling and is atmospherically lit with hanging bulbs. There are long trestle tables and a thrown together kitchen area in the rear. In the foreground a woman wearing a holstered gun feeds a baby in a high chair while another kid spoons food from a bowl. 'lina eats eagerly in the middleground while Lawdog sips coffee.
LAWDOG: DO YOU KNOW WHAT'S IN THAT?
'LINA: IT'D PROBABLY GAG A MAGGOT. I'M TOO HUNGRY TO CARE.
She is stuffing bread in her mouth as she talks. The bowl before her has a sort of stew in it. Lawdog sits looking at her.
'LINA: SO WHAT'S THE GAME PLAN, 'DOG? WHEN DO WE CUT OUT OF NAZILAND?
LAWDOG: I'M NOT SURE. THERE'S STILL STRANGERS ON THIS PLANE. SOME RIDERS WHO DON'T BELONG.
Lawdog in close shot as he raises the steaming steel mug to his mouth.
LAWDOG: THE GUY BACK AT THE GARAGE SAID THAT IT WAS BIKERS AND THEY HAD A TRUCK WITH THEM.
LAWDOG: MIGHT JUST BE PASSING THROUGH OR THEY MIGHT BE HERE FOR A REASON. EITHER WAY I'VE GOT TO RUN THEM DOWN.
Lawdog stands up and 'lina keeps on chowing down.
LAWDOG: IT CAN WAIT UNTIL MORNING. THEY HAVE COTS FOR US OUT HERE.
'LINA: YOU GO AHEAD. I'M HAVING SECONDS.
Cut to a downshot of Lawdog lying back on a cot in a dark room stacked with crates.
CAPTION: 'LINA ASKED ABOUT MY WORLD.
CAPTION: LIKE TO KEEP MOVING. DON'T LIKE TO THINK ABOUT IT.
Smash cut. We're into a flashback now. Big money panel of a naked Lawdog floating in a tube of viscous fluid with streams of bubbles rising around him. He has a plastic mask covering his nose and mouth and tubes run away from it along with tubes running from his groin and chest and from an appliance placed on the stump of his ruined arm. All around this tube of fluid is an enormous laboratory of many tiers with technicians and consoles and computer monitors. Jack Kirby on a Spielberg budget. On a sort of rampway leading out off a higher tier, the mystery blonde stands with a
smaller nerdy looking guy with thick dark glasses and wild hair.
The tube of liquid is underlit and spooky.
TAILLESS BALLOON: WILL HE LIVE?
TAILLESS BALLOON: HE HAS TO.
TAILLESS BALLOON: WE NEED MORE THAN WISHES.
TAILLESS BALLOON: WE'RE MAINTAINING HIS VITAL SIGNS. IMAGING AND ENCODING IS PROGRESSING RAPIDLY.
TAILLESS BALLOON: HE'LL BE THE PERFECT SUBJECT IF ONLY HE LIVES THROUGH THIS.
A shot from Lawdog's POV through the fluids and the plexi-shell of the tube. Bubbles stream up and partially obscure the figures standing on the platform.
TAILLESS BALLOON: YOU'VE DONE WELL. MANY OF THE OTHERS BELIEVE SO.
TAILLESS BALLOON: BUT NOT ALL OF THE OTHERS, RIGHT?
TAILLESS BALLOON: LET'S NOT...
TAILLESS BALLOON: EVEN SOMETHING AS IMPORTANT AS THIS HAS ITS POLITICS.
Something cool here to denote time progression/tension. Maybe
all slice vertical panels.
Close shot of 'dog in the tube. His eyes are half lidded. Bubbles stream from filters set in the plastic mask. We can still see wounds on his body.
TAILLESS BALLOON: THE WORK HERE IS IMPORTANT FOR ALL PLANES.
TAILLESS BALLOON: ALL THE WORLDS WILL BENEFIT. EXISTENCE ITSELF IS AT STAKE.
Mandy and the nerdy guy in near silhoutte, standing on the platform before the tube, 'dog floating inside.
TAILLESS BALLOON: THE PROBABILITIES. THE VARIANTS. DEVIATIONS ARE RAMPANT.
TAILLESS BALLOON: BUT STILL THE ELECT SQUABBLE OVER DETAILS.
Closer in on 'dog. Same angle and scene as panel one.
TAILLESS BALLOON: YOUR PROJECT WILL NOT BE THREATENED AS LONG AS IT CONTINUES TO SHOW RESULTS.
TAILLESS BALLOON: THINGS WILL PROGRESS MORE SMOOTHLY ONCE THE ENCODING IS FINISHED.
Mandy in the foreground looking cool. The nerd turns from her.
TAILLESS BALLOON: THEN THE LIFE SUPPORT WILL NO LONGER BE NEEDED.
TAILLESS BALLOON: THEN THE SUBJECT CAN DIE.
Even closer in on 'dog. Extreme close up. His eyes are wide open now.
TAILLESS BALLOON: SUBJECT CAN DIE.
TAILLESS BALLOON: CAN DIE.
TAILLESS BALLOON: DIE.
Lawdog lies in the foreground on the cot. He's bathed in sweat but lies still, eyes open. 'lina sits on a cot across from him and leans against the block wall. She's probably been sitting like this for hours watching him.
'LINA: ZONED AGAIN.
Closer shot of her looking sleepy.
'LINA: WHAT DO YOU DREAM ABOUT, LAWDOG?
'LINA: THE STUFF YOU'VE SEEN? THE WACKY PLACES YOU'VE DRIVEN THROUGH?
She lies back in the cot looking at the ceiling.
'LINA: ALL YOU HAVE IS THE ROAD FOR A HOME.
'LINA: THAT SUCKS.
Close up of her lying back with the arms crossed behind her head.
'LINA: I'VE GOT A HOME BUT I DON'T WANT TO GO BACK.
'LINA: THAT SUCKS TOO.
A shot of the dark room. Both of them asleep on their cots.
Lawdog and 'lina and Marlon and Weasel are climbing up a wooded hillside. Marlon and Weasel have rifles slung over their shoulders. The sky is overcast and streaked with clouds.
MARLON: CLETUS SAYS YOU TWO ARE GOING TO STAY AWHILE UNTIL THE RATZIS GET TIRED OF LOOKING FOR YOU.
MARLON: WHAT'S YOUR BUSINESS HERE, ANYWAY?
Lawdog speaks as he walks along behind Marlon and Weasel.
LAWDOG: I'M LOOKING FOR SOMEONE. SOME BIKERS CAME THROUGH HERE. WOMEN. THEY HAVE A TRUCK.
MARLON: YEAH. WE HEARD ABOUT THEM.
WEASEL: TANGLED WITH THE HEINIES. KICKED BUTT AND SCOOTED.
'lina stands on a pile of large rocks and looks off panel. The others are below and behind her.
MARLON: THEY'RE NOT PART OF OUR GROUP. THEY WITH YOU?
'LINA: YOU GUYS BETTER COME TAKE A LOOK AT THIS.
Largest panel. The group stands on the rocks and looks over the flat landscape beyond to see a big column of smoke rising from about five miles away. It looks like an entire town is burning. Big scale under the big sky.
MARLON: (SMALL) JESUS. THAT'S SKYVER STATION.
WEASEL: IT'S BURNING. THE WHOLE TOWN IS BURNING.
The group stands on the rocks. Weasel has tears in his eyes. Marlon looks mean. Lawdog looks hard. 'lina looks scared.
MARLON: THAT'S WHERE MOST OF THE POSSE IS FROM. SQUAREHEAD BASTARDS ARE BLITZING IT. IT'S RETALIATION.
WEASEL: IT'S THE DRAGON. THEY SAID IT WAS COMING.
LAWDOG: THE DRAGON?
The Dragon lays waste to a town that is engulfed in a sea of fire. The Dragon is a big war machine on the order of Gunhed. It has Nazi markings. Its many guns spit fire and flame throwers shoot out arcs of flame. The town is in its death throes with lots of shit blowing up and buildings falling. The Dragon has FAFNIR painted across the front in crude Gothic lettering.
CAPTION: "IT'S A KREIGSMACHINE THE NAZIS BUILT FOR "PACIFYING" COUNTIES THAT WON'T KNUCKLE UNDER."
CAPTION: "WE HEARD THEY BUILT IT DOWN IN MICHIGAN AT A RETOOLED CHRYSLER PLANT."
CAPTION: "IT'S HERE FOR US. FOR THE POSSE AMERICANUS."
High angle shot. A robot arm with a flame thrower dripping napalm swings out and we see unarmed civilians struggling to run over the burning rubble.
CAPTION: "THEY KNOW MOST OF US GOT FAMILY IN SKYVER."
CAPTION: "THEY KNOW WE SOMETIMES RESUPPLY THERE."
Reverse shot as the arm spits an arc of flame and all the civilians are caught in its blast.
CAPTION: "WE'RE NOTHING BUT BUGS TO THE DRAGON."
CAPTION; "THAT BASTARD WILL GREASE ITS WHEELS WITH OUR GUTS."
Inside the control deck of the Dragon. There's German's in hi-tech tanker's helmets and wired up eyepatch TADS type systems for aiming guns. An officer in a peaked cap stands braced between a driver and gun tech. They are underlit by the monitor and gauge lights.
CAPTION: "THEY WIPED OUT THE AMERICAN GRANGE BOYS LAST CHRISTMAS."
CAPTION: "ONLY A MATTER OF TIME 'TIL THEY FOUND THEIR WAY UP HERE."
Marlon runs down the hillside with Weasel running after. Lawdog and 'lina turn from where they stand on the rocks.
WEASEL: WHATTA WE DO? WHATTA WE DO?
MARLON: GOTTA GET BACK. GOTTA TELL CLETUS.
'lina turns to Lawdog looking scared. He looks off grimly.
'LINA: YOU'VE GOT TO HELP THEM.
'LINA: WHY? YOU JUST DO. YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE A GOOD GUY AND ALL THAT.
Lawdog looks over his shoulder with the meanest look imaginable.
LAWDOG: YOU'VE GOT ME MIXED UP WITH SOMEBODY ELSE.
Lawdog walks down the hill with 'lina after him.
'LINA: BUT THAT DRAGON THING IS GOING TO KILL THEM ALL.
LAWDOG: THAT'S NOT MY CONCERN. IT'S NOT YOUR CONCERN EITHER.
'LINA: WHAT IS YOUR CONCERN, LAWDOG?
He walks in close up.
LAWDOG: THIS IS THEIR WORLD. WHAT EVER EVIL EXISTS HERE IS PART OF THAT WORLD.
LAWDOG; MY DIRECTIVE IS TO HUNT DOWN ANOMALIES; THAT WHICH DOES NOT BELONG.
She chases after him down the hill.
'LINA: SO A BUNCH OF NAZI CREEPS TURNING THE MIDWEST INTO A LANDFILL IS COOL WITH YOU?
LAWDOG: I DEAL WITH HIGHER STAKES. YOU WOULDN'T UNDERSTAND.
He walks down the hill and she calls after him with her back to us.
'LINA: OH, I UNDERSTAND OKAY...
'lina in close up with tears coming from her eyes and her mouth twisted. Her bangs have fallen in her face from running. She hugs herself.
'LINA: (SMALL LETTERS) ...YOU'RE NOTHING BUT A PRICK.
Shot of 'dog walking down the hill looking pissed.
CAPTION: CAN'T EXPECT THE GIRL TO UNDERSTAND.
CAPTION: HAD TO GIVE UP A LOT WHEN I TOOK THIS JOB.
He walks closer.
CAPTION: CAN'T AFFORD A HEART.
CAPTION: HEARTS GET REAL EXPENSIVE.
CAPTION: HAVE TO HEAD ON DOWN THE ROAD.
CAPTION: HAVE TO GET OUT OF HERE.
Shot of Joyex Abandon and the Hell's Belles. Big shot. They drive by night along a flat highway. They look tough laid back on big chopped hogs. A big ass pick-up with a cage made of welded iron bars rides behind them. They are all armed to their pearly whites and mean looking in black leather and chains.
CAPTION: BUT FIRST I FIND THE ONES WHO DON'T BELONG.
BELLE #1: HOW MUCH FURTHER WE GOT TO RIDE, JOY?
BELLE #2: YEAH. MY ASS IS GETTIN' CHAPPED.
She looks over her shoulder, her hair blowing across her face. We see the HELL'S BELLES logo on her back, a naked Viking chick riding a flaming bike.
JOY: STOP YOUR BITCHIN'. IT'S NOT MUCH FURTHER TO THE CROSSROADS AND WE'RE OUTTA THIS HASSLE.
JOY: WE'LL HAVE MORE LUCK IN THE NEXT WORLD OVER. I HEARD THEY GOT WEREWOLVES.
They zoom off over the highway and away leaving a cloud of exhaust behind.
BELLE #1: NAZIS ARE COOL.
JOY: EVERY WORLD'S GOT NAZIS. NOTHIN' SPECIAL ABOUT THAT. NOBODY'S GONNA PAY CASH FOR A NAZI FROM ANOTHER WORLD.
JOY: (linked) MAYBE IF HE COULD FLY.
BELLE #1: I JUST LIKE THE WAY THEY DRESS, IS ALL.
They veer to the side as one lane of the road erupts in an explosion.
BELLE #1: DAMN!
JOY: WHERE'S THAT COMING FROM?
A Nazi jet built along the lines of an A-10 Warthog comes screaming low out of the sky and strafes the road with cannons as the Hell's Belle's roar on up the road.
BELLE #1: NOW WHAT, JOY?
JOY: EXIT'S JUST AHEAD! WE JUST KEEP ON KEEPIN' ON!
Joy leans over the bars of her bike. Her eyes are alive and a grin slashes her face. She's on the edge, staring old man Death in the face and loving every second of it. Her hair whips back from the wind like something alive. We see somewhere on the leathers a patch or something that says JOY X and beneath it a rose with dripping thorns. Tracers criss cross the night sky behind her.
JOY: AND IF WE DON'T MAKE IT?
JOY: SHIT, IT'S BEEN A PARTY, GIRLS.
The Junkers banks into the sky as below we see the girls disappear in a flash of light.
JOY: (fading) HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA ha ha ha...
FROM JUNKERS: WO BIST...VERDAMMTE!
We're in that common area/kitchen in the Posse's hideout. Lawdog sits at a table, hunched over a cup of something hot. 'lina comes in. There's nobody else here.
'LINA: YOU STILL IN A TRANCE, 'DOG?
'LINA: WE'RE EVACUATING THE HOLE. THE DRAGON'S COMING.
Lawdog looks up. He looks tired.
LAWDOG: THE STRANGERS ARE GONE. THEY MOVED ON TO THE NEXT PLANE. DON'T ASK ME HOW I KNOW. I JUST DO.
LAWDOG: WE'LL MOVE ON AFTER THEM.
'lina leans on the table and looks at him defiantly.
'LINA: I'M STAYING.
LAWDOG: THE HELL YOU ARE. YOU DON'T BELONG.
'LINA: AND WHERE DO I BELONG, LAWDOG?
Lawdog grabs her by the wrist and she looks startled.
LAWDOG: LITTLE SNOT NOSED RUNAWAY. COULDN'T HACK LIFE WITH MOMMY AND DADDY.
LAWDOG: NOW YOU'RE GOING TO SAVE THE WORLD. IS THAT HOW IT IS, 'LINA?
She pulls her hand from his grasp with a look of pure venom.
'LINA: YEAH! THAT'S EXACTLY HOW IT IS.
'LINA: I HEARD ALL THAT DISAFFECTED YOUTH CRAP BEFORE. YOU SHOULD HAVE BEEN A GUIDANCE COUNSELOR, DOG.
She storms away leaving him sitting at the table.
'LINA: SO I DON'T BELONG.
'LINA: YOU DO YOUR JOB, 'DOG. YOU CAN GUN ME DOWN 'CAUSE THAT'S THE ONLY WAY THIS STRANGER IS LEAVING.
Lawdog grins slightly as he raises the mug to his lips. Extreme close up.
LAWDOG: (SMALL LETTERS) LITTLE BITCH...
Marlon is showing Clete and some of the others a pick-up truck packed with crates of explosives. They are wired together with jumbles and bundles of wires. Marlon has a roadmap in his hand. The truck is parked in the big freight elevator.
CLETE: I'M NOT SO SURE I LIKE THIS IDEA, MARLON.
MARLON: LIKE WE GOT A LOT OF OPTIONS? I WIRED UP A HALF TON OF DYNAMITE. WE DRIVE IT TO THE END OF HOLE NUMBER TEN.
MARLON: I RIGGED A RADIO TO BLOW THE WHOLE MESS AT THE PRESS OF A BUTTON.
Marlon shows Clete the road map. He has a juncture circled in red.
MARLON: THAT PUTS THE BLAST UNDER THE JUNCTION OF THE INTERSTATE AND TORGAU ROAD. WE STALL THE DRAGON THERE AND BOOM.
CLETE: AND HOW DO WE GET THE DRAGON TO STOP THERE?
MARLON: THAT'S THE TRICKY PART.
Clete and Marlon look up to see Lawdog walking toward them from the shadows. He's in shadow from the waist up.
LAWDOG: SO, WHO DRIVES THE DYNAMITE TRUCK?
Lawdog leans on the truck and looks at the dynamite. Clete looks at him skeptically. Marlon frowns.
CLETE: YOU THINKIN' ABOUT IT?
LAWDOG: I'VE GOT MY REASONS.
MARLON: YOU DON'T KNOW THE SHAFTS.
LAWDOG: I'LL LEARN.
Lawdog leans back on the truck and regards them. Marlon has his arms crossed and Clete argues.
CLETE: THERE'S COAL GAS LAYIN' DOWN THERE.
CLETE: EVEN IF YOU DO GET AWAY FROM THE BLAST IN TIME THERE'S NO TELLIN' THAT THE WHOLE MINE MIGHT NOT BLOW.
LAWDOG: YOU JUST WORRY ABOUT GETTING THE DRAGON OUT ON THE RIGHT PIECE OF ROAD.
Marlon holds the map of the shafts out to him.
MARLON: YOU GOT A JOB, MAN. I'LL SHOW YOU THE ROUTE.
'lina in close up. She looks dismayed.
'LINA: YOU'RE WHAT?
Lawdog is sitting in the truck and 'lina is leaning on the open window. Lawdog is handing her the car keys to his car. There's lots of keys on the ring.
LAWDOG: TAKE CARE OF THE CAR. IF I DON'T COME BACK YOU DESTROY IT.
PAGE TWENTY FIVE
The truck, jury rigged with extra lights pulls into the foreground leaving 'lina standing. Armed men run busily behind her.
She stands in close up. Tears stream from her eyes.
'LINA: (SMALL) I'M SORRY...
Marlon grabs 'lina's arm and pulls her along with some of the others who run for their trucks.
MARLON: COME ON, BABE. YOU DON'T WANNA BE HERE WHEN THE DRAGON COMES KNOCKIN'.
MARLON: COME ON.
The armed pick-ups drive out of the shaft. Among them is a sort of make-shift armored car with welded plates of steel forming a crude deflection armor surface.
CAPTION: EVERY WORLD HAS ITS TROUBLES.
CAPTION: THERE'S NO PERFECT PLACE.
Slice panel. That truck drives along through the blackness. LOTS of negative space. Black all around but for the glares of the lights of the truck and some of the mine wall and floor caught in that glare.
CAPTION: EXCEPT THAT PLACE IN MY MEMORY.
Lawdog at the wheel of the truck in the dark. He has the map of the shafts held against the dash with one hand and looks at it in the light of the dome lamp in the roof of the cab.
CAPTION: THAT PLACE WAS A WORLD OF PEACE AND HARMONY.
CAPTION: BUT ONLY IN MY MEMORY.
A closer shot of Lawdog.
CAPTION: IT WAS A PLACE WITH ITS OWN STRIFE AND INJUSTICES.
CAPTION: BUT NOT IN MY MEMORY. MY MEMORY IS ONLY OF A PERFECT PLACE.
The truck rolls away into the dark. Just a glow of the headlights ahead of it.
CAPTION: IT WAS MY HOME.
CAPTION: IT CAN NEVER BE AGAIN.
A view through binoculars. We see the Dragon rolling up a broad six lane highway. It leaves a cloud of dust and exhaust behind it.
OFF PANEL: COMIN' WEST ALONG THE INTERSTATE AND BREATHING FIRE.
Marlon stands on the cab of a pick-up truck with the binoculars. Clete is there and so is 'lina. They are all armed.
CLETE: IT'S GOING TO HIT THE INTERSECTION TOO EARLY.
MARLON: NO WAY. LAWDOG'S HAD PLENTY OF TIME TO POSITION THE BLAST TRUCK.
CLETE: BUT NOT ENOUGH TIME TO GET AWAY.
Marlon turns to Clete with an angry look. Marlon has the detonator in his hand.
MARLON: HE'S ONLY TAKIN' THE SAME RISK ONE OF US WOULD TAKE.
CLETE: WE CAN'T BLOW THE TRUCK YET.
MARLON: THE DRAGON'S GONNA GET BY US. THEN THERE'S HELL TO PAY.
Marlon holds the detonator and snarls in close-up.
MARLON: ONCE THAT SUCKER'S SQUATTING OVER TORGAU ROAD WE GOT NO CHOICE.
'lina holds a big old revolver against Marlon's head and he looks shocked.
'LINA: YOUR FINGER GOES NEAR THAT BUTTON AND I'LL LET DAYLIGHT IN YOUR SKULL, CHIEF.
'LINA: THERE'S GOT TO BE ANOTHER WAY.
Big old page shot from a low angle. We look up at the Dragon rolling on down the highway. We can see the soldiers at their command posts through the plexi-canopies. The ends of the flame throwers drip napalm. It tears up the road under its treads.
CAPTION: "...AND YOU GOT ABOUT TWO MINUTES TO THINK OF ONE."
To BE CONTINUED!