Some more of CK -- just for the hell of it...
---------------------------------------------
Carli bends over the table for a shot, sexy as hell.
Rat notices, nudges JJ.
RAT
Tell me, does yon female caress your memory cells to the same degree she does mine?
DAX
English, motherfucker.
JJ
Never seen her before.
DAX
That what he’s askin’?
(off JJ’s nod)
Shit, Rat, you oughta know by now all them stuck-up college bitches look the same.
Carli sinks the 8-ball. Puts away her cue.
Dax slams his phone on the table.
DAX (CONT’D)
Shit, no answer on the land line and Grady’s phone still goes straight to voice-mail.
A microwave dings. Zeke pours the melted cheese over the plate of nachos, plops a fistful of jalapenos on top.
ZEKE
Dax -- want me to makes some calls?
DAX
Who the fuck you know that I don’t?
ZEKE
Bartender at Bellamere’s and I were friends in basic. Maybe he worked, the other night.
DAX
-- Couldn’t hurt. Hey, Rhonda, where’s my fuckin’ pitcher?
Zeke puts the nachos on Rhonda’s tray, with the pitcher and a bottle of Jack Daniels. They share a grimace.
RHONDA
Comin’ up.
ZEKE
I’ll give my buddy a call.
He grabs his cell phone but Dax stops him.
DAX
No, use mine. Don’t need you tied into this shit.
Zeke heads for Dax’s table. He has a bionic leg.
Carli notices, waylays him, slips a twenty in his shirt pocket and pulls him into a kiss.
Rhonda glares at them.
ZEKE
What was that?
CARLI
Pay my tab, and thank you for your service.
She casts a glance back at Dax then strides out the door.
Dax glares after her.
DAX
That fuckin’ bitch. She’s fuckin’ with me! Bring her back.
They head after Carli. Zeke stops them.
ZEKE
No, no, no, guys, c’mon, c’mon, lemme talk to her. No need for trouble, Dax. Okay? Okay?
Dax finally nods. Zeke follows Carli out. Rhonda huffs.
EXT. CANTINA MADRIZA - NIGHT
Zeke finds Carli about to get into her car.
ZEKE
Hey, lady, are you crazy?
CARLI
A little. Why?
ZEKE
That guy in there -- you don't wanna mess with him. Not all the way out here.
She looks him over like he’s dinner.
CARLI
You’re right, I don't. He knows it.
ZEKE
Then why’d you spit in his face? You think he’ll laugh about that?
CARLI
So I should kiss his ass, too?
ZEKE
Wow, so now you’re spittin’ on me. Listen, why don’t you stick with the wine bars in Phoenix or LA? Stop touring the low-rent joints.
He starts inside. She grabs his belt.
CARLI
Your name’s Zeke, right? I’ll come back in, if you invite me -- for yourself.
ZEKE
Yeah, right. More thanks to the gimp for his service?
CARLI
That’s not -- .
ZEKE
Just...keep it, okay? Now if you’ll excuse me, I gotta go in and clean up the mess you left behind.
She yanks his shirt up -- uses a Sharpie to write her phone number around his left tit.
CARLI
Here. Tell Dax to call me, if you want. Or don’t.
She caresses his chin then gets in her car and drives away.
He watches her. Pulls his shirt open. Looks at the number.
ZEKE
Wow. Uh...sorry, Dax, but you know how girls get, once a month.
(mimics Dax)
Oh, shit, do I ever. Rhonda, more beer! Double the J-D. Gonna be a long night. Fuck.
(mimics JJ)
Don’t forget more nachos. Gotta feed the steroid munchies.
(mimics Rat)
Indubitably.
A sharp-looking dog, LOKI, watches him around the corner. He’s chained to the shack’s porch.
ZEKE (CONT’D)
What? Ruff. Ruff.
Loki woofs back. Zeke heads into the bar, smiling.
---------------------------------------------
Carli bends over the table for a shot, sexy as hell.
Rat notices, nudges JJ.
RAT
Tell me, does yon female caress your memory cells to the same degree she does mine?
DAX
English, motherfucker.
JJ
Never seen her before.
DAX
That what he’s askin’?
(off JJ’s nod)
Shit, Rat, you oughta know by now all them stuck-up college bitches look the same.
Carli sinks the 8-ball. Puts away her cue.
Dax slams his phone on the table.
DAX (CONT’D)
Shit, no answer on the land line and Grady’s phone still goes straight to voice-mail.
A microwave dings. Zeke pours the melted cheese over the plate of nachos, plops a fistful of jalapenos on top.
ZEKE
Dax -- want me to makes some calls?
DAX
Who the fuck you know that I don’t?
ZEKE
Bartender at Bellamere’s and I were friends in basic. Maybe he worked, the other night.
DAX
-- Couldn’t hurt. Hey, Rhonda, where’s my fuckin’ pitcher?
Zeke puts the nachos on Rhonda’s tray, with the pitcher and a bottle of Jack Daniels. They share a grimace.
RHONDA
Comin’ up.
ZEKE
I’ll give my buddy a call.
He grabs his cell phone but Dax stops him.
DAX
No, use mine. Don’t need you tied into this shit.
Zeke heads for Dax’s table. He has a bionic leg.
Carli notices, waylays him, slips a twenty in his shirt pocket and pulls him into a kiss.
Rhonda glares at them.
ZEKE
What was that?
CARLI
Pay my tab, and thank you for your service.
She casts a glance back at Dax then strides out the door.
Dax glares after her.
DAX
That fuckin’ bitch. She’s fuckin’ with me! Bring her back.
They head after Carli. Zeke stops them.
ZEKE
No, no, no, guys, c’mon, c’mon, lemme talk to her. No need for trouble, Dax. Okay? Okay?
Dax finally nods. Zeke follows Carli out. Rhonda huffs.
EXT. CANTINA MADRIZA - NIGHT
Zeke finds Carli about to get into her car.
ZEKE
Hey, lady, are you crazy?
CARLI
A little. Why?
ZEKE
That guy in there -- you don't wanna mess with him. Not all the way out here.
She looks him over like he’s dinner.
CARLI
You’re right, I don't. He knows it.
ZEKE
Then why’d you spit in his face? You think he’ll laugh about that?
CARLI
So I should kiss his ass, too?
ZEKE
Wow, so now you’re spittin’ on me. Listen, why don’t you stick with the wine bars in Phoenix or LA? Stop touring the low-rent joints.
He starts inside. She grabs his belt.
CARLI
Your name’s Zeke, right? I’ll come back in, if you invite me -- for yourself.
ZEKE
Yeah, right. More thanks to the gimp for his service?
CARLI
That’s not -- .
ZEKE
Just...keep it, okay? Now if you’ll excuse me, I gotta go in and clean up the mess you left behind.
She yanks his shirt up -- uses a Sharpie to write her phone number around his left tit.
CARLI
Here. Tell Dax to call me, if you want. Or don’t.
She caresses his chin then gets in her car and drives away.
He watches her. Pulls his shirt open. Looks at the number.
ZEKE
Wow. Uh...sorry, Dax, but you know how girls get, once a month.
(mimics Dax)
Oh, shit, do I ever. Rhonda, more beer! Double the J-D. Gonna be a long night. Fuck.
(mimics JJ)
Don’t forget more nachos. Gotta feed the steroid munchies.
(mimics Rat)
Indubitably.
A sharp-looking dog, LOKI, watches him around the corner. He’s chained to the shack’s porch.
ZEKE (CONT’D)
What? Ruff. Ruff.
Loki woofs back. Zeke heads into the bar, smiling.
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