D.B.Tarpley's Amazing Ass Blog-4/24/18

Greetings and salutations people and peoplettes. In 1999 I wrote my very first script. It was perhaps overly influenced by Quentin Tarantino but I am seriously considering revising it as a book. The working title was ‘Hoogie’ and while I ultimately decided to give up script writing and focus on books I got Leonardo DiCaprio’s production house, Appian Way, to read it. That ain’t no small potatoes. It’s more like medium fries or a satisfactory portion of tater tots. Shit, I ain’t gonna lie: it’s latkes au gratin! Here’s a little taste; I sincerely hope you enjoy.

EXT. FRONT PORCH - DAY

(An elderly woman (69) swings on a porch swing.)

(Andy (26) holds a guitar case. A back pack is slung over his shoulder as he stands before her.)

GRANNY: Are you certain this is what you want to do with your life?

ANDY: Yes ma’am. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.

(The elderly lady is silent a moment as she swings. She surveys the countryside which is her front yard.)

GRANNY: I don’t understand it. But I love you… have ever since your mother passed.

(Andy is silent.)

(The old woman looks back at Andy.)

GRANNY: You think you can make it?

ANDY: Yes ma’am.

(She looks at him hard.)

GRANNY: Do you know you can make it?

(Andy looks out at the countryside. The breeze blows his hair. He looks back at his grandmother.)

ANDY: Yes ma’am.

(The woman smiles.)

GRANNY: That’s a good lad.

(She coughs hard.)

GRANNY: Come over here.

(Andy sets down his guitar and moves closer.)

(The old lady reaches into her apron.)

GRANNY: I want you to have this.

(She holds out her hand to reveal a gold pocket watch.)

GRANNY: It was my grandfather’s. I gave it to your mother, and now I give it to you. Keep it close to your heart.

(Andy takes the watch.)

ANDY: I will Granny.

(They hug.)

INT. BUS - DAY

(Andy looks out the window. His face reflects back as trees blur by.)

INT. PAWN SHOP - DAY

(The flipping of an off center ceiling fan is heard. A yellowing white wall has a crooked sign hanging by a string on a nail. It reads: “ART MUST BE KEPT PURE. THE PRICE OF PURITY IS PAIN.” The lazy ceiling fan turning around in the background causes the light on the wall to flicker slightly. A trail of smoke drifts across the right hand corner of the screen.)

CASSIUS(O.S.): I think my feet are losing weight.

BEEF(O.S.): Huh? I don’t think feet CAN lose weight.

(The jingle of a bell over the store door tinkles.)

CASSIUS(O.S.): You a doctor?

(Beef grunts.)

CASSIUS(O.S.): Every day I walk down to Fat Moe’s an grab us lunch. That’s all the way down there and back.

(Beef grunts.)

(Andy clears his throat to get somebody’s attention.)

CASSIUS(O.S.): If I thought ‘bout it before they started losing weight, I’d of weighed my feet, only my feet so’s you could weigh them now and compare.

ANDY(O.S.): Uh, excuse me.

CASSIUS(O.S.): But who thinks of a thing like that ‘fore it happens? I ain’t final jeopardy smart.

BEEF(O.S.): Nope.

(Andy clears his throat again.)

(A huge beefy man steps in front of the sign from the right side. He is wearing a faded Lilith Fair T-shirt with what could very well be dried cum-stains on it. He is smoking a fat cigar, while chewing a wad of tobacco.

He looks annoyingly at the camera, takes the cigar out of his mouth with one hand, grabs a spit cup with the other and lets a huge black glob slide out of his mouth.)

CASSIUS(O.S.): They breathe more now. You ain’t no doctor. I ought to know my own feet… fucker.

(Beef looks to the right, then puts the cigar back in his mouth. He looks at Andy.)

BEEF: Yeah?

(Andy holds out the watch.)

EXT. PAWN SHOP - DAY

(A big cracked red pop-up letter sign reads: “PAWN” sideways down a building. What is reflected in a puddle on the ground is “HOOGIE”. A boot smashes through the liquid mirror, muddying it up and erasing the sign’s image.)

(Andy walks down grimy streets on an overcast day. He wears jeans, a T-shirt, and a faded denim jacket. He is carrying his old beat up guitar case and his back pack.

Andy’s back rounds a corner.)

(A glass door with fancy lettering reads: “CLED‘S.” His hand pushes it open.)

INT. RESTERAUNT - DAY

(Andy is sitting at a corner booth.)

(A pretty young brunette waitress (24) walks up to him. She has a barbed wire wraparound tattoo spiraling down her left arm, ending at her fingertip. The tattoo also spirals out from under her skirt, down her right leg, and into her shoe.)

(In the background a couple sits at a table. The girl is talking.)

(An old Japanese man at the counter sips coffee and reads a paper.)

(The waitress chews her gum spastically)

JASMINE: Can I get you something to drink?

ANDY: Yes thank you. I need a moment to look at the menu but I’ll have a pop while I decide.

(Andy looks at the menu.)

(Jasmine stands still, holding her pen and pad in her hands, and chews her gum like a cow’s cud for a minute. Finally she blows a bubble until it pops.)

JASMINE: All right, now what can I get you?

(The girl at the table grabs the guy’s arm.)

GIRL AT TABLE: Ralph, I don’t think this is working.

(Ralph shakes her hand loose and mimes that he is in a box, and that he can’t hear her. He is pretending to speak and no sound is coming out.)

GIRL AT TABLE: That’s real mature Ralph, real mature.

(Andy glances at his waitress, unsure and suspicious.)

ANDY: I’ll just have a soda and grilled cheese for now.

JASMINE: You want a coke?

ANDY: Yes please.

(Jasmine nods, scribbles in her pad and walks off)

JASMINE: It’s like pulling teeth.

(Girl at table shakes her head and looks down at her half eaten cheeseburger.)

GIRL AT TABLE: Ralph I don’t think that I love you anymore.

(Ralph wrings his fists on the corner of his eyes and pretends to cry.)

(The girl is on the verge of tears.)

GIRL AT TABLE: I just can’t take it anymore.

(Ralph returns to miming a wall between them.)

(Jasmine plops a glass in front of Andy on a fast walk by.)

(The man at the counter turns his page.)

(Andy takes a sip of his soda and makes a face.)

ANDY: Excuse me miss?

(Jasmine walks over to Andy.)

ANDY: I’m terribly sorry, but this is a Pepsi.

(Jasmine looks at him a second, takes a drink of his soda, and puts it back on the table.)

JASMINE: Yes. Yes it is.

(Jasmine walks away.)

GIRL AT TABLE: I think you need psychiatric help.

(Ralph moves three chairs in a line and lies down across them, as if on a couch in a psychiatrist’s office, and pretends to talk to the ceiling.)

(Girl at table throws her napkin on the table and storms out of the diner.)

(The old man turns another page.)

(Jasmine brings Andy his grilled cheese.)

JASMINE: Is there anything else I can get you?

ANDY: No thank you.

JASMINE: No really, I’m here to serve you.

(Jasmine mock-curtsies.)

(Andy opens his mouth and Jasmine walks off.)

JASMINE: Prima Donna tourists.

(Jasmine drops a bill in front of Ralph and goes back behind the counter.)

(Ralph looks at his bill, stands up. Mimes getting out his wallet, counting out bills, and setting them on the table. Then he turns to Andy, pretends to tip his hat, and walks out of the diner.)

(Three new girls walk in.)

(Andy takes out his wallet and looks at what he’s got. It is full of 20’s.)

(Jasmine walks back to his table and lays down the bill.)

(Andy grabs her wrist.)

ANDY: Hey miss, I’m sorry if we got off on the wrong foot. My name is Andy.

(Jasmine looks down at him.)

JASMINE: O.K. Andy… Can I have my arm back now?

ANDY: Sure.

(Jasmine turns to leave. She notices Ralph’s table has no money on it.)

Jasmine: (through clenched teeth) motherfucker.

ANDY: Hey, how do you know I’m not from Nashville?

(Jasmine passes the Japanese man reading his paper.)

JASMINE: Hey Rodriguez? Where do you reckon the guy in the booth is from?

(The old man doesn’t look up from his paper.)

RODRIGUEZ: Not Nashville.

ANDY: I’m from Vermont. I’m a songwriter

(Rodriguez looks up from his paper.)

(Jasmine stops walking.)

(The three chatting girls at the other table stop chatting.)

(They all laugh.)

RODRIGUEZ: Hear that Jasmine?

(Jasmine chews her gum open mouthed.)

JASMINE: Just what this town needs.

GIRL#1: Hey, welcome to Nashville.

Girl#2: Don’t see many of you around here.

(Andy puts his head down, pays his bill, and grabs his guitar to leave.)

Girl#3: Oh look! He’s got a guitar.

Girl#2: Yeah, but does he know how to play?

(Jasmine is taking the order at the table of girls.)

JASMINE: Probably not, he don’t even know how to order a goddamned coke. A coke for Christ sake!

(Rodriguez laughs and wipes tears from his eyes.)

(Andy stops his exit. He slowly places his guitar case on the table, opens it, and pulls out a run of the mill guitar.)

(Everyone turns and watches.)

(He props his leg up on the bench and places the guitar over his knee. His fingers begin to pick out an acoustic tune with slow grinding precision.)

(He concentrates hard on the playing.)

ANDY: I can play.

(One of the girls at the table gets up and walks over to the table. She holds out her hand.)

ANDY: Hi. My name’s Andy.

(He reaches out for her hand.)

GIRL#1: No cock-knocker, give me the guitar.

(Andy gives her the guitar.)

GIRL#1: You’re out of tune.

(She sits down in a chair, quickly tunes the guitar, and plays a much better version of the song with splashy improvisations while looking at him with a smile.)

GIRL#1: You see, Andy, this is Nashville. In The mid-seventies Eric Clapton came to town.

(Her friends roll their eyes as if they’ve heard all this before.)

GIRL#1: He was a guitar god. He came to Nashville to record on music row.

(She plays as she talks, never looking at her fingers.)

GIRL#1: One fine sunny day he was walking the halls of the recording studio while on break.

(Jasmine returns with the table’s drinks.)

GIRL#1: And he heard the most beautiful playing ever to grace his god-like ears.

FLASHBACK - RECORDING STUDIO HALL

(A man pauses his walk and rushes back down the hall.)

GIRL#1(O.S.): He rushed back.

(The man comes to double doors and throws them open.)

(A janitor plays a guitar next to his discarded mop bucket.)

GIRL#1(O.S.): It was a janitor.

INT. DINNER - DAY.

(The girl plays Andy’s guitar.)

GIRL#1: Mr. Clapton was flabbergasted. And he asked the janitor, “How on Earth did you learn to play that bloody awesome?”

FLASHBACK - RECORDING STUDIO

(The janitor looks up from his playing.)

GIRL#1(O.S.): To which the janitor replied,

JANITOR: This is Nashville mister. Everyone plays like this.

INT. DINER - DAY

(She stops playing. Her eyes are still and solemn.)

GIRL#1: Clapton didn’t come back to town for twenty years.

(She hands the guitar back to a stunned Andy.)

GIRL#1: This is Nashville Andy. Everyone plays guitar.

(Andy holds his guitar in front of him as if he has never seen a guitar before.)

RODRIGUEZ: (shaking his head) ‘friggin song writer.

(Jasmine guffaws as she walks back into the kitchen.)…

Have an amazing ass day.