by Mark Barkawitz

FADE IN:

INT. APARTMENT—NIGHT

To the sounds of punk rock music and raucous MALE VOICES in the BG, a WOMAN”S HAND with long, painted nails begins to slowly unbutton the front of a crisp, white, nurse’s uniform, exposing the flesh between her shapely breasts.

INT. JAIL CELL—MORNING

From a LONG SHOT, we see a young man, BILLY BAKER, sleeping on the pillowless, lower bunk. What looks like a white bandana is wrapped around his forehead and he wears a wrinkled, long-sleeved shirt with the tail out and Docker-type pants. In the bunk above him, a career criminal named HARVEY KETCHUM lies in a dirty, white T-shirt and jailhouse blue jeans. Harvey faces the wall, using one of his old tennis shoes for a pillow. To the rear wall of the cell, a filthy sink and toilet are attached. Through a small, barred window high above, the rays of morning light partially illuminate the cell. As the CAMERA begins to slowly MOVE IN on the sleeping Billy, we hear:

YOUNG MAN”S VOICE
(Off-Camera)
I just can’t believe it. It’s like a bad dream.

INT. INTERROGATION ROOM—MORNING

The voice is that of a large, bulky young man named PETE MOORE, who sits nervously in a wooden chair under the only light in the small room. Closed Venetian blinds cover a large window behind him. He continues speaking to someone OFF-CAMERA.

PETE
(explaining)
You gotta understand. He didn’t mean to hurt her.

INT. JAIL CELL—MORNING

As the CAMERA CONTINUES TO MOVE IN on Billy in the bunk, we see the bandana is really a bandage with dried blood from underneath caked onto his forehead.

INT. INTERROGATION ROOM—MORNING

Still in the chair, Pete wipes the sweat from his brow.

PETE
Billy’s not that kinda’ guy. I’ve known him my whole life.
We were all teammates back in high school.

INT. APARTMENT—NIGHT

We once again hear the party sounds as two shooters of whiskey are dropped—shot glass and all—into two mugs of beer, which are picked up and chugged by Billy and ROBBIE ARNOLD, who wears a collared shirt and Dickies trousers. He is also Billy’s age. Another of Billy’s close friends DAN O’BRIAN, the jock-type in a football jersey, takes photos with a camera. Pete and the half-dozen or so MALE GUESTS in BG cheer, as Billy and Robbie chug down the depth-charged mugs. Robbie’s fifteen-year-old, little brother TIMOTHY ARNOLD (nicknamed SQUIRT) drinks a soda and checks CDs for the stereo.

INT. JAIL CELL—MORNING

Billy’s lower lip is swollen and also bloodied, as if he had been in a fight. Without waking, he smacks his dry lips and tries to wet them with an equally dry tongue.

INT. INTERROGATION ROOM—MORNING

Still in wooden chair, Pete looks down at the floor between his feet.

PETE
God, they were supposed to get married tomorrow.

INT. JAIL CELL—MORNING

Billy stirs, rolls over, falls back into an uneasy sleep. OFF-CAMERA, we hear the sound of a cell door slam shut. Startled, Billy sits up quickly.

BILLY
What?
(leaning head on hands; vacuously)
Oh, God . . .

Rubbing his head, he notices blood on his shirt. He touches it, then looks around the cell.

BILLY
What the hell?

INT. INTERROGATION ROOM—MORNING

Dan now occupies the same wooden chair under the same bright light. He crosses his muscular arms and sits back, as if already making a statement.

DAN
Like I told you before, I don’t know how it happened.
We all had a lot to drink. Okay?
INT. JAIL CELL—MORNING

Billy kneels at the filthy toilet and pukes into it.

INT. INTERROGATION ROOM—MORNING

Rubbing his face, Dan is as last we saw him.

DAN
Of course, I saw her with Billy at the party.

INT. APARTMENT—NIGHT

Smiling drunkenly, Billy sits in an armchair. While the guests cheer, a half-undressed STRIPPER named CANDI SMITH, wearing a skimpy nurse’s uniform, dances to punk rock music in front of Billy, leaning her half-exposed boobs in his face. Dan snaps a photo.

INT. INTERROGATION ROOM—MORNING

Dan is as last we saw him.

DAN
But that doesn’t mean anything. It’s not like he was
with her.

INT. JAIL CELL—MORNING

Under the running faucet in the dirty sink, Billy cups his hands and splashes his face.

INT. INTERROGATION ROOM—MORNING

Sitting in the wooden chair, wearing a T-shirt with a punk band’s logo and baggie levis, Robbie raises the sunglasses from his bloodshot eyes.

ROBBIE
Yeah, I’m supposed to be the Best Man. Billy and me,
we go back a long time, brah. He was our quarterback.

INT. APARTMENT—NIGHT

Still seated in the armchair, Billy’s mouth hangs open and his eyes stare widely at the stripper’s breasts, as she leans forward, baring them to him. Guys in BG cheer them on as same punk rock song plays. Robbie leans over his shoulder, smiling drunkenly. Dan snaps another picture.

INT. INTERROGATION ROOM—MORNING

Robbie lights a cigarette.

ROBBIE
Brah—it was a Bachelor Party. So naturally, we all had
a little too much to drink. I ended up passed-out on the
couch or I woulda’ stopped him.
(beat; smokes)
I woulda’ stopped him.

INT. JAIL CELL—MORNING

Billy holds his ribcage, which is hurting, too. He uses the tail of his shirt to wipe his mouth. Slowly, unsteadily, he walks to the front of the cell. He puts his hands on the bars of the cell door, as if testing them. Sticking his face between the bars, he tries to look in either direction.

INT. JAIL CORRIDOR—MORNING

The empty corridor connects the three or four other cells which make up the small jailhouse. PRISONERS lie sleeping in each cell. A metal doorway is locked at the end of the corridor.

INT. JAIL CELL—MORNING

Still standing at the cell bars, Billy is suddenly struck by another wave of nausea. Putting his hand over his mouth, he runs to the toilet, where he heaves again. In the upper bunk, Harvey turns over angrily.

HARVEY
Son-of-a-bitch.
(throws tennis shoe at Billy)
I’m trying to sleep, you asshole!

Sitting on the floor, Billy leans on the edge of the toilet. He stares back at Harvey, who scratches himself vigorously.

HARVEY
Goddamn hick town. Any decent, self-respectin’ jail
oughtta have a goddamn drunk tank for assholes like you.
Gimme back my goddamn shoe.

Billy reaches over and tosses the old tennis shoe back to Harvey.

HARVEY
Now, shut up and lemme sleep. Got it, asshole?

BILLY
Yeah. Yeah, I got it.

Harvey turns back to the wall. Billy spits in the toilet, then wipes his face on his sleeve.

INT. TUXEDO RENTAL SHOP—DAY

CU of a tuxedo sleeve being brushed off. Billy stands trying on a tux, as the TAILOR with a tape measure around his neck makes the alterations. In the BG, Robbie, Dan, and Pete also try on tuxes.

INT. JAIL CELL—MORNING

Still sitting by the toilet, Billy raises his head, anxiously.

BILLY
Oh, God.

He gets up, hurries to the cell door. Grabbing the bars, he pushes his face between them.

BILLY
Hey! Let me out of here! Hey, Sheriff! Hey-y-y!

INT. JAIL CORRIDOR—MORNING

Having awoken the other prisoners in the other cells, they angrily curse back at Billy from their bunks or push their faces (CU) between the cell bars:

PRISONER #1
“Shut up, you asshole!”

PRISONER #2
“My fuckin’ fist in your mouth, punk!”

And other choice phrases.

INT. JAIL CELL—MORNING

Disregarding their warnings, Billy keeps yelling for help.

BILLY
Hey, damnit! I have rights! I want my—

But before he can finish, Harvey, who has already jumped down from his bunk, grabs him from behind and pulls him down to the floor. He pins Billy’s arm behind his back and pushes his face into the concrete. OFF-CAMERA, we hear the other prisoners cheering:

INT. JAIL CORRIDOOR—MORNING

CUs of other prisoner’s faces, as they push between the cell bars to try and see fight, yelling:

PRISONER #2
“Kick his ass, Harvey!”

PRISONER #1
“Fuck him up good, man!”

Et cetera.

INT. JAIL CELL—MORNING

Harvey continues to push Billy’s face into the concrete.

HARVEY
Ya want your rights, kid? Huh? Is that what ya woke me
up for—your goddamn rights?

BILLY
Lemme go. You don’t understand.

HARVEY
No, you don’t understand, kid. I say shut your damn mouth—
you shut your goddamn mouth. Got it?

Billy tries to get to get out of the hold. Harvey pushes his face into the floor again.

BILLY
Got it! I got it. Shit, you’re breaking my arm.

Harvey gives Billy one last push into the floor, then lets go.

HARVEY
Goddamn drunks.
(walks over to toilet; facing rear wall)
Aw shit, kid. Ya gotta push the handle to make these things work.
No goddamn wonder it stinks so damn bad in here.
(turning to Billy)
An’ here I thought it was just you, kid.

Scratching his neck, he pisses in the toilet. Slowly, Billy sits up on the floor, rubbing his arm, wincing at the pain in his ribs.
HARVEY
(still facing rear wall)
Got any smokes?

Rubbing his shoulder, Billy shakes his head.

HARVEY
(gruffly)
Huh?

BILLY
No. No, I don’t smoke.

HARVEY
(turning around; pulling up zipper)
What’s a matter? Little lung cancer scare ya, kid?

Harvey laughs, coughs, snorts, then spits in the toilet. Flushing it, he turns to Billy, as if demonstrating.

HARVEY
Voo-wa-la.

Harvey goes to the sink, takes a toothbrush out of his pocket, and begins to brush his teeth without toothpaste. Billy gets up off the floor. Spotting the window up on the wall, he approaches it, reaches up, and pulls himself up to look out, even though it hurts his shoulder and ribcage.

EXT. JAIL YARD BEHIND JAILHOUSE—MORNING

From behind bars, Billy looks out on the yard area with tall walls and barbed wire atop. There is a work-out bench for prisoners. A DOG barks somewhere outside its walls.

INT. JAIL CELL—MORNING

Billy drops back down to the floor, which hurts his ribs. Harvey is still brushing his teeth at the sink.

BILLY
Were you awake when they brought me in here last night?

HARVEY
(removes toothbrush from mouth)
Not by choice, kid. But it was kinda’ hard to sleep with
The Man dumpin’ your drunken ass in my cell.
(starts brushing again)
Why?

BILLY
I’m just trying to figure out what the hell I’m doing in here.

Harvey stops brushing his teeth; points toothbrush at Billy.

HARVEY
Ya don’t know?

Billy shakes his head.

INT. INTERROGATION ROOM—MORNING

The fifteen-year-old nicknamed Squirt squirms in the wooden chair under the light.

SQUIRT
They just call me Squirt ‘cause I’m Robbie’s little brother.
Yeah, I was at the party, but I wasn’t drinking. Honest.
Robbie woulda’ kicked my ass. He acts like he’s my dad
or somethin’. You know?

INT. JAIL CELL—MORNING

Billy and Harvey are as last we saw them.

HARVEY
(shaking his head; half-laughing)
What a dumb shit.

He goes back to brushing.

BILLY
Did Smitty bring me in? You know, Officer Smith?

HARVEY
No, kid, I don’t know no Smitty. One pig pretty much
looks like another pig to me. Why?
(scoffing)
You got friends on the inside?

Harvey laughs and spits in the sink.

EXT. GAS STATION—DAY

The sign painted above the little gas station on the side of highway reads: “BILL’S—GAS & REPAIRS.” Near a “Mechanic on Duty” sign, the senior MR. BAKER, around fifty with a cigarette in the corner of his mouth, lies under a car on a jack, changing the oil. A sheriff’s patrol car is parked at the pumps. SHERIFF SMITH (aka SMITTY), pleasant-looking, middle-aged, sits in the car behind the wheel. Looking a little younger in his football jersey, Billy stands at the rear of the patrol car, filling the tank with gas.

INT. JAIL CELL—MORNING

Billy leans against the wall. Finished brushing his teeth, Harvey puts his toothbrush in his pocket, climbs back up to his bunk, and sits with his legs over the side.

HARVEY
Ya sure ya ain’t got no smokes?

BILLY
What?

HARVEY
“What” hell. Gimme a goddamn cigarette.

BILLY
I told you, I don’t smoke.

HARVEY
Don’t smoke.
(lies back down, hands behind head, staring at ceiling)
What the hell good are ya? Stupid goddamn kid. Don’t smoke.
Don’t know what the hell ya done. Don’t know shit!

INT. INTERROGATION ROOM—MORNING

Squirt is at last we saw him on the wooden chair.

SQUIRT
No, I-I was already gone. Pete and Dan had been drinking,
so they had me drive ‘em home. But I gotta Learner’s Permit.
If you wanna see?
(reaching for wallet in back pocket)
I-I didn’t see who Billy left with.

INT. JAIL CELL—MORNING

Billy sits on the edge of the lower bunk. Harvey lies above.

HARVEY
What’s your name, kid?

BILLY
Huh? Oh. Billy. Billy Baker.

HARVEY
(repeating thoughtfully)
Billy Baker? Billy Baker? Hmph. Sounds familiar.
Ever been in Folsom?

BILLY
Folsom?

HARVEY
Prison. Folsom Prison, dumb shit. Ya know like in the song.
(pretends to sing)
“Stuck in Folsom Prison. An’ life keeps moo-o-vin’ on.”
Ever been there?