TOM AND JAKE. D. Hunter. Name Address Address Phone

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Transcription:

AND by D. Hunter Name Address Address Phone e-mail

2 EXT. NORTH WOODS - DAY The sun rises barely bursting through the clouds. A light covering of snow carpets the field and leafless trees. A hunter s deer blind sits in the middle of this wilderness. INT. HUNTER S BLIND - DAY The camouflaged blind allows two hunters to sit inside with room for their gear and not much else. TWO MEN already hide in the blind: (20s), bleary eyes and fine features, has coordinated hunting attire which looks like the pictures from a hunting magazine. (20s), stout with suspenders to hold up his pants, sits heavily in the blind with a tired face and stubble on his chin. His clothes look rumpled but serviceable. Jake fiddles with his thermos. Coffee? Tom crouches with his eye to the scope of his rifle. Hush, I seen one. Would you move your fat behind so I can see too? You ain t the lead dog, so your view of my behind ain t gonna change anytime soon. Jake continues to look down the scope of his rifle. Let me see! I am telling you straight Jake. Don t screw this shot up for me. Tom breaks his concentration to give Jake a fuck you look.

3 Jake fakes a loud sneeze. Okay then, take your best shot. Tom pulls the trigger. The rifle barrel kicks. A small puff of smoke escapes the barrel. Tom smiles in wonder. You son of a saint. Big rack. Must have had a twenty point antler. Trophy? I don t believe you. You don t have to believe me, you just have to repeat it back at camp. Like when we were sport fishing in the stocked pond? That s right, that bass was twelve pounds. Jake mimes drinking a bottle. LATER More like 12 ounces. How long are we going to stay in this blind looking for bucks we can t hit? You re just set out to ruin this for me ain t ya? No greater pleasure.

4 Jake yawns and stretches. Why don t you go back to camp and drink with the other beer hunters? Those assholes are probably still in bed. No, I don t need any more beer. I m still hung from last night. Besides, we might get lucky. All right then, let s switch places. Tom moves his large frame to let Jake have another view of the woods. And Tom s fat ass. Thanks Tom. You think you could spot me a few bucks? You can see fine. No, I mean men in your wallet. What are you on? The men on paper. In your wallet. How d you know I have pictures of men in my wallet? I was talking about money. Dead presidents. Every man has money. Why, what did you think I was asking about?

5 N-n-nothing. Mind your own business. You hunting or what? Just looking for a buck... Jake searches the landscape with a pair of binoculars. LATER See anything? I am beginning to see a little clearer now. Could you be any louder? That way, it s easier for the bucks to sneak up on us. Hey Tom. You like naked pictures of women? Sure do! Especially when they re with a man. Do you like them big? Yes I do. The man or the woman? (farts) Did you hear one? Thought I heard one. A buck snort. Nearby.

6 (giggling) Me too. Tom waves his hand so Jake can smell the pungent odor. Was that you? My bad. That was a pretty high note for a buck snort. What are you saying Jake? That sounded like a virgin ass to me. What are you talking about? No need to be all anal retentive about it. LATER Hey Tom, you want to shoot this buck? Help me aim the rifle. You re acting like a total wimp. Can t you shoot your own rifle? I can but if you could help me with this, I ll remember your twenty point buck. Tom leans over Jake and whispers in his ear.

7 This is my rifle, this is my gun. One is for hunting, the other is for fun. See. I told you. We just might get lucky. Tom and Jake embrace as they slide onto the floor of the blind. Hunting clothes are strewn outside. The frenzy increases and shakes the blind. Nearby, a huge buck mounts another buck in a hip thrusting frenzy. The beast with eight legs has twenty antler points. LATER Still in the hunter s blind. The two men enjoy an après sex moment. They smoke cigarettes and drink Budweiser beer. Tom and Jake dress in suits reminiscent of Pavarotti. Camouflage hats sit on their heads. [NOTE: Cue hypnotic BALLAD by Norm Sherman.] Tom and Jake hear the music. They pinch the cigarettes out and hide the bottles. Jake ducks down out of sight. Tom surprises himself with a beautiful baritone voice and sings with operatic flair. (singing) We are hunters. Big buck hunters. Party all night. Up for a fight. Tom ducks down out of sight, Jake stands up. Jake also surprises himself with a wonderful tenor voice and also sings with operatic flair. (singing) Hunting all day. We say No way! Wake us at dawn. All we do is yawn.

8 Jake knows the drill. He ducks, Tom sings. This time Tom wears the heavy chains and attitude of a soulful street crooner. Tom wears his hunting hat instead of the expected pullover hat. Same melody, different attitude. (singing) Old enough to bleed. Old enough to butcher. That s how we keep the fawns, off our fucking lawns! Tom repeats the drill. He ducks, Jake sings. This time, Jake dresses and sings like a country western singer to the same melody. Jake wears his hunting hat instead of the expected cowboy hat. (singing) We could hunt ducks. But we say That sucks! If you like to butt fuck, do it out in the truck! Tom and Jack both stand up for the final verse. The two dress in their initial hunting ware. They sing the same melody as a rowdy man chorus. Swaying side by side. AND Deer camp, it s a beer camp. Deer camp, it s a queer camp. (ad lib)... (OS) What the fuck was that? FADE OUT. Love? (OS) THE END