JIM
About what?
WHITEY
That wasn’t Tube City. This is. (strange laughing voice again) He-he-he!
MUSIC
EPISODE SCORE UP.
BRIDGE THRU TO:
SOUND
INT. – STOP ’N START MARKET – DAY. MUZAK. AN ELECTRONIC BELL AS THE GLASS DOOR SLIDES OPEN. JIM ENTERS AND WALKS TO THE COUNTER. THE MANAGER IS TOTALING UP SALES ON A SMALL ADDING MACHINE. JIM CLEARS HIS THROAT.
MANAGER
(preoccupied) Can I help you?
JIM
I don’t know, can you?
MANAGER
I’m pretty busy. . .
JIM
Do you remember me?
MANAGER
I get a lot of customers.
JIM
I used to come in here all the time. Matter of fact, I stopped by last night. Late.
MANAGER
Sorry. That’s not my shift.
JIM
There was a new guy working the counter. Standing right where you are now.
MANAGER
Must’ve been someplace else.
JIM
I don’t think so.
MANAGER
I got a regular night man. Six, seven months now.
JIM
Is his name Juano?
MANAGER
Nope. It’s Dom.
JIM
You sure? Because I used to know old Juano. Only he was lookin’ kind of pale. Greasy hair, fake moustache – even had makeup on.
MANAGER
Never heard of him.
JIM
Oh, it was him, all right. Ringing up the bar codes on the register. Good thing it’s automatic. It was almost working him.
MANAGER
Look, if you’re not gonna buy something. . .
JIM
I had a friend of mine with me. He saw him, too. Then, a little later, my friend ran into some trouble. You know anything about that?
MANAGER
I think you better get out of here.
JIM
Or what? You’ll call the cops? Let me do it for you.
SOUND
JIM PICKS UP A PHONE RECEIVER FROM ITS CRADLE ON THE COUNTER. AS THE DOOR SLIDES
SOUND (cont’d)
OPEN AND THE ELECTRONIC BELL DINGS.
WOMAN #2
Excuse me. Do you have Land of a Thousand Flushes Toilet Bowl Cleaner?
MANAGER
We’re closed, lady.
WOMAN #2
In the middle of the day?
MANAGER
I’m takin’ inventory. Come back later.
WOMAN #2
(offended) Weill! I think I’ll go to Price Busters. It’s cheaper there, anyway!
SOUND
SHE LEAVES. THE DOOR SLIDES SHUT.
JIM
(to a dial tone) Hello, Police Department? I’d like to report a labor code violation. That’s right. Illegal hiring practices. . .
SOUND
THE MANAGER CROSSES AND LOCKS THE DOOR.
MANAGER
All right, all right. What do you want?
SOUND
JIM HANGS UP THE PHONE.
JIM
Tell me about Juano.
MANAGER
(resigned) I don’t have nothing to do with it. They send me these guys. . .
JIM
Who does?
MANAGER
The company. Sometimes they tell me to lay off my regular man, for the graveyard shift. ’Specially when there’s a lot of holdups. That’s okay by me. I don’t want
MANAGER (cont’d)
Dom gettin’ shot up! I put the hours on his pay, but it goes to them.
JIM
Juano and his pals?
MANAGER
They don’t get the regular wage. The company pays three-four bucks an hour, tops. Maybe they’re wetbacks, maybe they’re not. Who cares? Everybody makes money. You know how many stores we got? It adds up. Me, I’m glad we only use ’em after dark. You already seen Juano-whatever, so you know. And you know something else, my friend? They all look messed up.
JIM
And why is that?
MANAGER
Talk to the guys in the van. They’re the ones who bring ’em. Me – I don’t personally have nothing to do with it.
MUSIC
EPISODE SCORE. THRU TO:
NURSE #3
(filtered) Nurse’s station.
JIM
Room six-twenty-six.
NURSE #3
Six-two-six. . . oh. He was on the list for surgery this afternoon. . .
JIM
How’s he doing?
NURSE #3
Please hold.
MUSIC
(FILTERED) MINDLESSLY CHEERFUL MUZAK.
JIM
(under his breath) Come on. . .
NURSE #3
(back online) Are you immediate family?
JIM
I’m his friend.
NURSE #3
Then I can’t release any information about the patient.
JIM
I just want to know if he’s okay. When’s he getting out?
NURSE #3
That’s all I’m authorized to say. I suggest you contact the Patient Coordinating Office. . .
JIM
Well, I suggest you call the “patient” by his name. It’s White Feather.
MUSIC
EPISODE SCORE.
BRIDGE THRU TO:
SOUND
INT. – JIM’S CAR – PARKED – NIGHT.
JIM TUNES THE RADIO. BLIPPING PAST MUSIC, FINALLY STOPPING ON A NEWSCAST.
RADIO DJ
. . . A storm moving in as that low-pressure front continues to build. Ear Witness News returns with an update on the half-hour. For all of you working the graveyard shift, it looks
RADIO DJ (cont’d)
like a long, cold night here in Southern California, so try to keep warm. The time is eleven thirty-five. . .
SOUND
MUSIC RESUMES. JIM CLICKS THE RADIO OFF. OUTSIDE THE CAR, A VAN ROLLS INTO THE PARKING LOT. WE HEAR THE FAINT, MUFFLED RHYTHM OF THROBBING, BASS-HEAVY MUSIC FROM INSIDE THE VAN.
JIM
(tightly, to himself) Well, whadaya know. They’re early.
SOUND
EXT. – PARKING LOT. THE VAN ROLLS TO A STOP. THE THROBBING MUSIC STOPS. THE FRONT DOORS OPEN. TWO MEN CLIMB OUT.
DRIVER #1
Let’s go.
DRIVER #2
One comin’ Out over here.
SOUND
OPENING THE BACK DOOR OF THE VAN. TWO UNSTEADY FEET HIT THE PAVEMENT. THE BACK DOOR SHUTS.
CLERK (JUANO)
(flat, muttering) Please. . .
DRIVER #1
Move it, greaseball.
DRIVER #2
He don’t want to.
DRIVER #1
He don’t know what he wants. Give him
DRIVER #1 (cont’d)
a booster shot, like I showed you.
DRIVER #2
I already did.
DRIVER #1
Then give him another one. Right in the heart.
JUANO
(weakly) Sorry. . .
DRIVER #2
Come on, pal. Open your shirt. Atta boy. . .
SOUND
THE BUTTONS OF JUANO’S SHIRT TEARING OPEN. THEN A FAINT BURST OF COMPRESSED AIR FROM A HYPODERMIC GUN.
JUANO
(jolted) Uh!
DRIVER #2
There. That oughta keep him goin’.
DRIVER #1
How’s the pacemaker?
DRIVER #2
Lemme check.
DRIVER #1
Put your ear right on it.
SOUND
A FAINT HUMMING AND TICKING.
DRIVER #2
Sounds okay to me.
DRIVER #1
Walk him to the back door.
SOUND
THEIR FOOTSTEPS, AND JUANO’S SHUFFLING FEET BETWEEN THEM, AS THEY CROSS THE ASPHALT AND KNOCK ON THE BACK DOOR OF THE STOP ’N START. A HOLLOW STEEL DOOR OPENS.
MANAGER
Oh, no. Not him.
DRIVER #2
Good for one more night.
MANAGER
Look at him. He’s dead on his feet.
DRIVER #1
So prop him up.
MANAGER
What if he don’t last?
DRIVER #1
He will. Or your money back.
MANAGER
I don’t know. A guy came around, askin’ questions.
DRIVER #1
About what?
MANAGER
Some friend of his last night.
DRIVER #2
(nervous) You hear that, Manny? We shouldn’ta done it. I got a record. . .
MANAGER
What’d you do, anyway?
DRIVER #1
Look, we got a lot more stops to make. You want him or not?
MANAGER
1 haveta get home. . . (resigned) All right, all right. Bring him in. . .
DRIVER #1
He’s all yours. Say good-night, creep.
CLERK (JUANO)
Thank you. . .
SOUND
JUANO STUMBLES INSIDE. THE DOOR CLOSES FORCEFULLY. THE TWO DRIVERS WALK BACK TO THE VAN.
DRIVER #1
You drive for a while, kid.
DRIVER #2
(dubious) I don’t know. . .
DRIVER #1
You wanna work for the company
