"Unhand that pup and apologize to the lady." Scene 9

Scene 9

(scene: interior of the Thrasherville Sheriff’s Office. Ten Gallon is seated at his desk, writing something or other. Little Little sits in the corner carving something out of wood with his pocketknife. Deputy Colby sits at another desk, feet up, absentmindedly shuffling a deck of cards. Some of them fall onto the floor; the Deputy doesn’t seem eager to pick them up. In walks Mayor Waddell.)

MAYOR WADDELL

Good day, gents. How are Thrasherville’s finest this afternoon? I’ve, ah, come here to discuss a few things about those rowdy boys from the Wolf Gang. Mind if I have a seat?

(Deputy Colby doesn’t look up. Little Little seems like he’s about to say something when Ten Gallon looks up and speaks.)

TEN GALLON

So what’s the deal Mr. Mayor?

MAYOR WADDELL

(genuinely nonplussed) The deal?

TEN GALLON

The deal.

MAYOR WADDELL

Have to say I don’t know what you’re talking about, Sheriff, I, uh---

DEPUTY COLBY

(suddenly looking up) Aw, come on now Mr. Mayor! You know damn well what he’s talkin’ ‘bout. Now ‘fess up.

MAYOR WADDELL

I can’t say I do know. Truly, Sheriff Peverley, if there’s something specific you want to know, well just ask.

TEN GALLON

You reveal a big ol’ heap more than you intend by calling me “Sheriff,” Mr. Mayor. I told you before, I ain’t the damn sheriff. There’s only one sheriff in this town and he’s one of them Russians. He’s been on leave for a while now, I’m sure you’ll remember.

MAYOR WADDELL

Well, yes, of course. Sheriff Kovalchuk has been doing important work. I’m not at liberty to say just what he’s been doing, but I hope you’ll trust me.

TEN GALLON

Trust you about what? That’s a damn non-sequitur, Mr. Mayor. There ain’t a drop of sticky tobacco to connect the first part of that sentence to the second.

(silence)

MAYOR WADDELL

I suppose you’re asking when Sheriff Kovalchuk will be returning to our fine town?

TEN GALLON

I ain’t askin’ when, Mr. Mayor. I’m askin if.

MAYOR WADDELL

If what?

DEPUTY COLBY

Don’t play dumb now, Mr. Mayor, let’s just answer the man’s question.

MAYOR WADDELL

That, Deputy, is no way to address the Mayor of Thrasherville.

TEN GALLON

Keep your voice down, Deputy. Mr. Mayor, what I’m sayin’ is that if I’m a-gonna keep this town just and orderly, if it’s gonna run properly, I need to know whether that Russian is ever comin’ back.

MAYOR WADDELL

Well, you know, we’re confident we can get a deal done.

LITTLE LITTLE

Gotta say I don’t reckon I know what that means.

(sudden shout from outside. All four stand up and look out the door. One of Marty’s Blue Crew Party Girls is running through the street chasing a dog.)

MARTY’S PARTY GIRL #1

Come back, Hunter! Come back!

LITTLE LITTLE

Blue Crew girl’s lost her dog!

(all four say “I’ll get it” in unison and charge out onto the street)

TEN GALLON

Hey miss, I got a leash in here! (pointing to police office) Use it for my dog; ya need it?

MARTY’S PARTY GIRL #1

Hunter doesn’t have a collar! (looking increasingly distressed as Hunter bounds up the street)

DEPUTY COLBY

Shit, son.

TEN GALLON

Reckon I’ll just use it as a lasso.

(Our hero runs back into the office, grabs the leash, and races back outside. He runs up the street and seems to be within lasso-ing range of Mr. Hunter. Just as Ten Gallon is swirling the leash over his head and preparing to let fly, an unsightly large man, on a horse and smoking a cigar, lurches out from an alley and grabs the dog by the neck.)

UNSIGHTLY CIGAR MAN

(holding up Hunter) Whose dog is this?

MARTY’S PARTY GIRL #1

He belongs to Jimmy Slates over at the hotel, sir. He just ran out; poor Jimmy wasn’t in any state to get up and run after him, so I had to get him.

(Ten Gallon and Deputy Colby exchange looks. Jimmy Slates with a Blue Crew girl?)

UNSIGHTLY CIGAR MAN

I don’t wanna see no more dogs without collars roamin’ these streets. Got that?

MARTY’S PARTY GIRL #1

I-I...who are you, exactly?

TEN GALLON

That ain’t no way to talk to a lady and it sure as hell ain’t no way to be cordial to a canine, sir. Now unhand that pup and apologize to the lady.

UNSIGHTLY CIGAR MAN

Ah, you must be the famous Ten Gallon Dick Peverley. Keeping Thrasherville safe by chasing after drunken and dissolute hoteliers’ dogs. (drops Hunter, who scurries over to Marty’s Party Girl #1.)

MARTY’S PARTY GIRL #1

Don’t talk about Jimmy that way! He’s a good man, and he’s kind, and he’s, he’s...

MAYOR WADDELL

(who has been looking terrified this entire time) Okay, Sheriff Peverley, that’s enough. No need to rile up the Committee any more than we already have today.

TEN GALLON

(bewildered and exasperated) Who in tarnation is the Committee? And who is this ugly bastard? Just what the hell is going on here?

UNSIGHTLY CIGAR MAN

Go on, Mr. Mayor. Tell ‘em.

MAYOR WADDELL

(looking at his feet) He’s uh...he’s uh...he’s a representative of the Committee. Their enforcer, if you will. Their strongman.

UNSIGHTLY CIGAR MAN

That’s about the size of it. I best be going now. You take care, Mayor Waddell. See to it there’s no trouble with any of these kids. (he turns his horse northward and rides away)

TEN GALLON

Mr. Mayor, you’re gonna have to tell us just what in the hell is just about goin’ on.

LITTLE LITTLE

How can you let that fella talk to you like that, Mr. Mayor? You’re the mayor!

MAYOR WADDELL

I am, Little, you’re right. But sometimes even mayors have people to answer to...

(close-up shot of Ten Gallon’s face. He realizes what’s going on here.)

TEN GALLON

(slowly) The Committee, huh?

MAYOR WADDELL

(shamefacedly averting his eyes) The Committee.

LITTLE LITTLE

Is that like some devil from some old Indian story?

TEN GALLON

No, Little Little. I’m afraid it ain’t.

(Mayor Waddell tips his hat to everyone, wishes them a good day, and walks off. Hunter the Dog and Marty’s Party Girl #1 head back towards the hotel. Final shot of the scene shows Little Little, Deputy Colby, and Ten Gallon Dick standing in the middle of the dusty street, the sun just beginning its descent over the cacti and the mountains. Behind them is a huge poster advertising something called the Podes Hightower Beast Circus, soon to arrive in town.)

TEN GALLON

This town is doomed.