To make me get done with it in a timely fashion...so here's more of CK, in order...
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EXT. CANTINA MADRIZA - NIGHT
Junkyard cool. Right by a two-lane blacktop. Cars park on the desert. A shack behind it. A mock shooting-range behind that.
A TRIO OF BIKERS roar up -- DAX CASTOR, 40, a junkyard-dog covered with tattoos; JJ HOWITH, 30, burn scars, Dax's backup and ideological twin; and SPIT, 35, chunky with a beard. SUSAN, 30, spiky hair and mousey everything else, sits behind Spit.
Carli sits in her car. Watches them enter the bar.
INT. CANTINA MADRIZA - NIGHT
The perfect reflection of its outside, all neon beer signs, crap music and linoleum floor cracked to within a inch of being useless.
ZEKE LINDSTROM, 28, elaborate tattoos of Nordic symbols over his arms, tends bar. RHONDA, total cowgirl, handles the tables and booths.
Dax, JJ, Spit and Susan roar in. Dax hits the bar.
DAX
Zeke, you seen Grady?
ZEKE
Not in couple days.
DAX
Shit. Rhonda, pitcher and some J-D.
RHONDA
Be right over, Dax.
Zeke starts the pitcher. Dax joins JJ in a booth near the pool table.
Spit and Susan grab long-necks and sit in another booth.
Carli enters, stops at the bar.
ZEKE
Hi.
CARLI
Corona.
ZEKE
Got it. But first...
Carli shows him her ID. He finally nods, hands her the beer.
She crosses to play a solitary game of pool. Nice and casual.
Spit watches her...leers. Susan notices and swats him. He swats her back.
SIMULTANEOUSLY
Dax and JJ make calls on their cell phones.
DAX
It’s Dax. Grady been ‘round? ... Today, yesterday? ... You sure? ... Shit.
(another call)
It’s Dax. You seen Grady, today? ... When? ... You sure? ... Yeah, thanks. Fuck.
JJ
Hey, Priss, it’s JJ. HAve you seen Grady, recently? ... When was that? ... Thank you.
(another call)
Hey, Bobby, it’s JJ. Has Grady been around? ... Last day or two. ... Thanks. Bye.
DAX
Izzy says he picked up, Friday.
JJ
He hasn’t been to Priss’s in two weeks, and Bobby said he’s a no-show, last night.
Carli’s chalk drops. She squats to pick it up, returns to playing.
Spit gets up, swaggers over to Carli and gropes her ass, giggling. Susan glares at him.
SPIT
Why you playin’ alone, sweet-cheeks? I’m up for a game. If you give me some of this.
Some patrons chuckle. Zeke is not behind the bar.
MALE PATRON
Shit, Spit, give it up.
FEMALE PATRON
Ride him, honey; he’s just your style.
Susan holds up her pinkie.
SUSAN
Yeah -- big. Real big.
More patrons laugh. Zeke notices what Spit’s doing and starts over.
Carli twists her fingers in Spit’s beard. Forces him to the table.
CARLI
Touch me, again, and I’ll rip those peanuts you call balls off and shove ‘em up your nose. And don’t think I can’t...
She hisses sharp red nails at him. Releases him.
He snaps up, snarling. She whips her cue into his crotch then on his instep. He yelps and falls on his ass. Cries out.
SPIT
Shit, my back! Bitch! Shit!
The whole bar laughs. Zeke stays behind the bar. Builds an ice pack.
Susan comes to help Spit up. Guides him to the booth, his back wrecked. She gets the ice pack from Zeke.
Dax saw it all.
DAX
Way to go, baby; you gone and hurt Spit’s back, an’ he’s gotta work, tomorrow.
She looks him over, like a jackal eyes its meat. Chalks her cue.
CARLI
Spit? The name fits.
DAX
What name fits you?
CARLI
Depends on who’s asking.
DAX
Me.
CARLI
Doesn’t tell me much.
DAX
Dax.
CARLI
Dax? What kind of name is that?
DAX
Mine. Yours?
CARLI
Not interested.
DAX
That ain’t what your ass is sayin’.
She just turns back to the pool table.
Dax starts to get up but Zeke calls over.
ZEKE
Say, Dax, how ‘bout some nachos?
DAX
... Fresh made?
(off Zeke’s nod)
Extra jalepenos?
JJ
Chili con queso?
ZEKE
Got it.
He puts a jar of cheese in a microwave.
Another Harley roars up, outside. RAT, 20’s, missing an eye, enters and goes to Dax.
DAX
And?
RAT
Our charming compatriot, Grady, granted Bellamere’s the pleasure of his company, night before last.
DAX
Shit, Rat, talk English.
JJ
He was at Bellamere’s!? Who told you that?
RAT
A lovely young waitress, with eyes of amber, who thinks my eloquent usage of the English language is fascinating. She informed me he made all the right moves with an amazingly attractive blond, and they departed. Together.
JJ
Amazingly attractive?
RAT
And I quote -- Tits to here; hips to there; and an ass to die for. This, from a woman, so I doubt she exaggerated.
DAX
If that fuck’s dissed us for a fuck, he better have some fuckin’ selfies.
JJ
What about the kids he works?
Rat slaps a wad of bills on the table.
RAT
Tribute from the Southside group. I’ve yet to locate Luna or Madrigo.
DAX
Grady didn’t even pick up, Sunday?! Aw, this is bullshit...
He dials a number on his cell phone. JJ lights a doobie.
JJ
Hey, Zeke.
ZEKE
Yeah?
JJ
Double up on those nachos. Gonna be here reeeaaal late.
----------------------------------
EXT. CANTINA MADRIZA - NIGHT
Junkyard cool. Right by a two-lane blacktop. Cars park on the desert. A shack behind it. A mock shooting-range behind that.
A TRIO OF BIKERS roar up -- DAX CASTOR, 40, a junkyard-dog covered with tattoos; JJ HOWITH, 30, burn scars, Dax's backup and ideological twin; and SPIT, 35, chunky with a beard. SUSAN, 30, spiky hair and mousey everything else, sits behind Spit.
Carli sits in her car. Watches them enter the bar.
INT. CANTINA MADRIZA - NIGHT
The perfect reflection of its outside, all neon beer signs, crap music and linoleum floor cracked to within a inch of being useless.
ZEKE LINDSTROM, 28, elaborate tattoos of Nordic symbols over his arms, tends bar. RHONDA, total cowgirl, handles the tables and booths.
Dax, JJ, Spit and Susan roar in. Dax hits the bar.
DAX
Zeke, you seen Grady?
ZEKE
Not in couple days.
DAX
Shit. Rhonda, pitcher and some J-D.
RHONDA
Be right over, Dax.
Zeke starts the pitcher. Dax joins JJ in a booth near the pool table.
Spit and Susan grab long-necks and sit in another booth.
Carli enters, stops at the bar.
ZEKE
Hi.
CARLI
Corona.
ZEKE
Got it. But first...
Carli shows him her ID. He finally nods, hands her the beer.
She crosses to play a solitary game of pool. Nice and casual.
Spit watches her...leers. Susan notices and swats him. He swats her back.
SIMULTANEOUSLY
Dax and JJ make calls on their cell phones.
DAX
It’s Dax. Grady been ‘round? ... Today, yesterday? ... You sure? ... Shit.
(another call)
It’s Dax. You seen Grady, today? ... When? ... You sure? ... Yeah, thanks. Fuck.
JJ
Hey, Priss, it’s JJ. HAve you seen Grady, recently? ... When was that? ... Thank you.
(another call)
Hey, Bobby, it’s JJ. Has Grady been around? ... Last day or two. ... Thanks. Bye.
DAX
Izzy says he picked up, Friday.
JJ
He hasn’t been to Priss’s in two weeks, and Bobby said he’s a no-show, last night.
Carli’s chalk drops. She squats to pick it up, returns to playing.
Spit gets up, swaggers over to Carli and gropes her ass, giggling. Susan glares at him.
SPIT
Why you playin’ alone, sweet-cheeks? I’m up for a game. If you give me some of this.
Some patrons chuckle. Zeke is not behind the bar.
MALE PATRON
Shit, Spit, give it up.
FEMALE PATRON
Ride him, honey; he’s just your style.
Susan holds up her pinkie.
SUSAN
Yeah -- big. Real big.
More patrons laugh. Zeke notices what Spit’s doing and starts over.
Carli twists her fingers in Spit’s beard. Forces him to the table.
CARLI
Touch me, again, and I’ll rip those peanuts you call balls off and shove ‘em up your nose. And don’t think I can’t...
She hisses sharp red nails at him. Releases him.
He snaps up, snarling. She whips her cue into his crotch then on his instep. He yelps and falls on his ass. Cries out.
SPIT
Shit, my back! Bitch! Shit!
The whole bar laughs. Zeke stays behind the bar. Builds an ice pack.
Susan comes to help Spit up. Guides him to the booth, his back wrecked. She gets the ice pack from Zeke.
Dax saw it all.
DAX
Way to go, baby; you gone and hurt Spit’s back, an’ he’s gotta work, tomorrow.
She looks him over, like a jackal eyes its meat. Chalks her cue.
CARLI
Spit? The name fits.
DAX
What name fits you?
CARLI
Depends on who’s asking.
DAX
Me.
CARLI
Doesn’t tell me much.
DAX
Dax.
CARLI
Dax? What kind of name is that?
DAX
Mine. Yours?
CARLI
Not interested.
DAX
That ain’t what your ass is sayin’.
She just turns back to the pool table.
Dax starts to get up but Zeke calls over.
ZEKE
Say, Dax, how ‘bout some nachos?
DAX
... Fresh made?
(off Zeke’s nod)
Extra jalepenos?
JJ
Chili con queso?
ZEKE
Got it.
He puts a jar of cheese in a microwave.
Another Harley roars up, outside. RAT, 20’s, missing an eye, enters and goes to Dax.
DAX
And?
RAT
Our charming compatriot, Grady, granted Bellamere’s the pleasure of his company, night before last.
DAX
Shit, Rat, talk English.
JJ
He was at Bellamere’s!? Who told you that?
RAT
A lovely young waitress, with eyes of amber, who thinks my eloquent usage of the English language is fascinating. She informed me he made all the right moves with an amazingly attractive blond, and they departed. Together.
JJ
Amazingly attractive?
RAT
And I quote -- Tits to here; hips to there; and an ass to die for. This, from a woman, so I doubt she exaggerated.
DAX
If that fuck’s dissed us for a fuck, he better have some fuckin’ selfies.
JJ
What about the kids he works?
Rat slaps a wad of bills on the table.
RAT
Tribute from the Southside group. I’ve yet to locate Luna or Madrigo.
DAX
Grady didn’t even pick up, Sunday?! Aw, this is bullshit...
He dials a number on his cell phone. JJ lights a doobie.
JJ
Hey, Zeke.
ZEKE
Yeah?
JJ
Double up on those nachos. Gonna be here reeeaaal late.
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