What God Hath Wrought - final scene

In this, the last scenes I will publish, we find our hero, Matt, invited to the company's annual VIP picnic. A little lightheaded, he goes onto the deck to get away from the confusion and schmoozing. EXT. CLUB HOUSE - DAY A little unsteady, Matt holds the rail as he walks off of the deck and around the building, trying to put the noise behind him. He spots another lake through the trees a short distance away and walks towards it. He comes to a dirt lane that runs past the lodge and into the woods. An open-bed truck loaded with wire cages containing quacking ducks, two black men in the cab, rolls past and into the woods. He can hear it pull to a stop a short distance away, the doors slam as the driver and passenger get out. Curious, he follows. EXT. TREE CANOPIED DIRT ROAD - DAY Matt walks toward the sound of the two men talking and soon reaches a place where the truck is parked at a lakeside clearing. He hangs back and watches as they carry the cages full of ducks out onto a small dock. Suddenly, he’s stung on the neck by a fly and he smacks it. More insects begin to swarm so he decides to return to the lodge, waving the bugs away as he goes. EXT. FRONT OF LODGE – DAY As Matt arrives back at the lodge, the party begins streaming out of the building and gathering on the front lawn. Jimbo spots him and hollers out...

JIMBO

There you are little buddy. C'mon. We been lookin for ya. (Waves Matt over.)

When Matt reaches him, Jimbo throws his arm around his shoulders and takes off across the lawn towards a large pavilion on the bank of the other lake.

JIMBO

You gonna like this. You ever fired a shotgun?

MATT

When I was a kid.

JIMBO

Well, it ain't no big deal. The important thing is too give yourself enough lead to allow for the kick. You know what I mean?

He lets go of Matt to illustrate by pretending he's shooting the rifle.

JIMBO

When the bird flies you gotta lead em a little low and squeeze tha trigger, cause that gun's gonna kick back an up...

He illustrates by jerking his pretend gun back and up as if it's firing. I so doing, he spills his drink on himself.

JIMBO

Shit! (brushes himself) Oh, what the hell. (laughs) Man, the first prize is a trip to Hi-why-ee. Bare bellies an hula skirts. Ooooweee. Know what ah mean?

MATT

(Incredulous) Birds?

Jimbo spots one of his buddies as they reach the pavilion.

JIMBO

Hey Buck. Betcha a hunnert dollars I git mor'ern you do.

EXT. PAVILION – DAY The pavilion is a large, rustic, screened area filled with picnic tables. Smoke pours from the chimney, wafting across the group as they approach. As they cue for the door, Jimbo elbows Matt.

JIMBO

Ummm, low-country barbeque. Man, them Geechee's sure know how to cook. Course, it ain't as good as TexMex. But what is? (laughs)

INT. PAVILION – DAY The atmosphere is festive, everyone happy. Two black men cook ribs and loin over a smoldering grill, carefully turning and basting each side. The kitchen staff, black women in aprons, ready the side dishes behind large open serving counters separating the kitchen from the main room. Double doors lead onto an expansive open deck overlooking the water. As the crowd pours in they are greeted by (MUSIC) a Dixieland combo working away at "The Dark town Strutter's Ball." When everyone is inside, an over-the-hill celebrity (BURT) with a microphone steps onto a small podium. He signals the band to stop. People recognize him and begin elbowing each other.

BURT

Howdy!

CROWD

Howdy.

BURT

You can do better than that. I said HOWDY!

CROWD

HOOWDEEE!!

BURT

Welcome to the 15th Annual Sweetgum Duck Shoot and Bar-B-Q.

Applause, cheers, cat calls.

BURT

(continuing)

I know you’ve been waitin all year to get back down here and enjoy some of that good ole low-country barbeque.

Scattered applause. BURT

(continuing)

And I know you can’t wait for your chance to win some fantastic prizes... including an all expense paid vacation to... Hawaii!

Enthusiastic applause, cat calls.

BURT

(continuing)

But I know the one thing you've been waiting for most of all...

He waves his arm in the direction of the kitchen. (MUSIC) The band cranks up “Hold That Tiger”. The doors to the kitchen swing open and a bevy of cheerleaders wearing skimpy rhinestone outfits and waving pom poms marches into the throng. A great cheer arises. The girls wiggle their tails and shake their tits as they snake their way through the crowd. Some of the men make a grab for them but the girls brush them off with a wink and a smile. The men go crazy. Hootin and hollerin. It’s a blast. The girls form a Conga Line and everyone gets caught up in it, even the company women. “Hold that ti-ger,” one-two-three, bump! Tataki, grinning from ear to ear, has one hand on a girl’s hips while he lecherously rubs her butt with the other. One-two-three, bump! One-two-three, bump! Cigar in mouth, Jimbo waves both hands in the air and gyrates gleefully, pretending to grind his groin against the rear of the girl in front of him. Hold that ti-ger, one-two-three, bump! Matt can’t help himself and joins the line as well. After circling the room a couple of times, the girls lead everyone out onto the deck. One-two-three, bump! One-two-three, bump! EXT. DECK – DAY The crowd spills onto the deck. At one end is a large vertical game show wheel. Next to it is a scoreboard. On a small side deck a black man, in E&D garb, tends to a rack of shotguns. Burt takes his place at the podium next to the scoreboard. Two of the girls break out of the conga line, one positioning herself next to the wheel, the other at the scoreboard. The other girls break away and begin hostessing the guests, who are finding seats among the tables. Some of the girls serve drinks. Others bring platters of ribs and bowls of “fixens” out to each table. Everybody’s happy, talking, laughing, digging in.

BURT

(With microphone.) Alright now, ya’ll listen up. All you guys who’re playin come on up here and git yourself a number. Everybody else, enjoy the grub.

One of the girls (ample breasts, lots of cleavage) struts forward holding a large bowl full of numbered pieces of paper over her head. Catcalls from the crowd.

BURT

Come on now. Don’t be bashful.

About half of the men crowd forward and take a number out of the bowl. Now, really tipsy, Matt finds himself a spot on the perimeter of the festivities from which to watch the proceedings.

BURT

Alright now. Last call. Anybody who wants to shoot better git up here quick.

As people make their way through the group to draw a number from the bowl, Lassiter walks over and joins Matt at the rail. LASSITER

Enjoying yourself?

MATT

(slightly slurred speech) Yes sir. It’s... different.

LASSITER

(cocks and eye towards him) These things give us a chance to have a little fun together. Get to know each other a little better outside of the office. Gives us something to talk about besides business. Are you going to shoot?

MATT

No, no thanks. I think I’ll just watch.

The girl with the bowl holds it high over her head as she struts back and forth across the stage. A few catcalls and whistles from the men.

SOMEONE IN THE CROWD

Show us your tits!

The girl smiles and wiggles her abundant breasts at the men to many hoots and catcalls.

BURT

Anybody else? Last chance. Anybody? OK, no more players?

He smiles and winks at the bowl girl.

BURT

(continuing)

Thank you darlin.

He looks towards the girl at the wheel.

BURT

(continuing)

Sweetie, would you do us the honors?

The girl gives the wheel a big spin. The wheel goes around and stops on the number 32.

BURT

(continuing)

Alright! Number 32 come on up here.

One of the men in the crowd lets out a whoop and pushes his way towards the side deck where an attendant readies a shotgun. As the man (LESTER) reaches the deck, the attendant closes the breach, cocks the gun and hands it to him. He takes careful aim over the lake. The crowd hushed. Anticipation. Suddenly, from over the trees to the right, flies a squawking duck. BLAM! The shotgun goes off. A wad of bark flies off of a tree. The recoil nearly knocks the tipsy shooter off his feet but several of the men catch him and shove him back upright. The crowd roars with laughter. Whistles, cat-calls. The girls at the scoreboard begin jumping up and down and shaking their pom poms but stop when they realize he missed. The squawking duck flies out of sight.

BURT

Hey hoss. You're supposed to be shootin ducks, not sweetgums.

More laughter.

SOMEONE IN THE CROWD

Hey Lester, we make pulpwood at the mill, not out here!

More laughter. Shocked, Matt can’t believe his eyes. The attendant reloads the gun and hands it to Lester. Again, careful aim. Again, anxious anticipation. Suddenly, someone standing just behind Lester leans forward and shouts...

MAN BEHIND LESTER

SHOOT!

BLAM! The gun goes off. Lester recoils but this time, braced by the black man, he holds his balance. He's really pissed as he shoots at thin air. Over the trees, another squawking duck flies by. The crowd roars with laughter. Even Burt doubles over. Red in the face, Lester turns to face his hecklers. Burt steps in.

BURT

(Between fits of laughter) Alright now... Hold it down... we’re here to have fun... let’s not have all our fun at once... OK? OK. One shot left Lester. Course, there’s still lots of trees...

More laughter. Matt’s speechless. He’s never imagined such a spectacle. Lester gives Burt the evil eye, and slowly looks over the crowd, which falls silent. This time, he takes the gun with authority. Steps up with it half raised.

LESTER

Let er go!

EXT. SMALL DOCK ON OTHER LAKE – DAY One of the black men seen earlier by Matt, surrounded by the caged ducks, hands one of the ducks to the other man who heaves it into the air. It fly’s over the trees. EXT. PAVILION DECK – DAY Another terrified duck flies over the trees winging as hard as it can. Lester raises the gun, takes aim, and fires. BLAM! The shot hits the duck. Feathers fly and it falls lifelessly into the water. Music plays. The scoreboard light up. The girls dance and wave their pom poms. A hardy cheer goes up from the crowd. Beaming, Lester takes a bow. Behind him a dog jumps into the lake and swims out to retrieve the duck.

BURT

Alright! That’s more like it. Number 32. One point.

The girl puts a mark next to the number 32 on the scoreboard.

BURT

Maybe we should give him some credit for the tree.

Laughter and friendly slaps on the back as Lester makes his way back into the crowd.

BURT

Alright sweetie, spin the wheel?

The girl gives the wheel another spin. Matt’s in turmoil. He’s appalled by the event, but this is his job, his career. He doesn’t know what to do. He can only watch helplessly as the show goes on. Lassiter glances at him. Senses his distress.

LASSITER

Are you alright?

Matt shakes his head affirmatively. Lassiter studies him critically.

BURT

Lucky number 7! Step right up.

Another man makes his way through the crowd towards the shooting area. It’s Jimbo. The crowd roars it's approval. As he reaches the shooting deck he turns and faces the group.

JIMBO

Alright you bunch of pussies, let me show you how it’s done in Texas.

Cat-calls, whistles.

SOMEONE CALLS OUT

It’s gittin deep in here.

SOMEONE ELSE

Yeah, an we’re outside!

Laughter. Jimbo gives the group a big grin. The attendant hands him a gun. He raises it chest high. A bird flies over the trees into range. He aims, tracks, fires. BLAM! A direct hit. Feathers fly. The bird falls lifelessly into the water. The dog jumps in to retrieve it. The crowd cheers. The scoreboard lights up. The band strikes up, and the girls dance and wave their pom poms.

BURT

Looks like those Texas boys know how to shoot more than bull after all.

Scattered laughter. The girl puts a mark next to number 7 on the scoreboard.

SOMEONE CALLS OUT

Fifty bucks says you can’t do it again.

Jimbo glances over his shoulder.

JIMBO

It’s yore money.

The attendant hands him a gun. He raises it chest high, waiting. A bird flies over the trees into sight. BLAM! Another direct hit. The scoreboard lights up, band plays, girls dance, everyone cheers. Another mark next to his name. Jimbo’s having a ball. Before he takes the gun again, he turns back to the crowd.

JIMBO

Anybody wanna make it a hunnert? (Waits) Come on you wussies. Anybody.

BURT

Must be somebody out there who’ll call his bluff. Do I here a hundred?

Someone in the crowd waves his hand in the air.

MAN IN CROWD

I’ll make it a hundred.

BURT

We’ve got a hundred. Do I hear two?

ANOTHER MAN IN CROWD

Two!

BURT

We’ve got two. Do I hear three?

JIMBO

(Protests) Now wait just a damn minute...

Carpenter steps forward.

CARPENTER

Five hundred.

Hoots and cat-calls from the crowd. Jimbo looks back at Carpenter.

JIMBO

Awright mister high roller. Five hunnert dollars and dinner at Turtle Creek in “Big D.” Are we on?

Carpenter nods, a sly grin on his face. The grin slightly unnerves Jimbo. He takes one last glance at Carpenter before he readies for the next bird. A duck flies over the trees, winging hard for safety. Jimbo aims, leads him... BLAM! A hit but the duck is only winged. It flutters into the water where it frantically flaps it’s one good wing trying to escape. Jimbo spins around and calls out to Carpenter.

JIMBO

That’s five hunnert and dinner at the Turtle.

Carpenter protests.

CARPENTER

That duck’s only winged. You’ve got to kill it.

Several voices in the crowd agree.

JIMBO

Bull-shit! The bet was to hit em. There wasn’t nothin said about killin em.

The crowd begins to argue the point. EXT. LAKE - DAY Matt watches as the dog jumps in after the wounded duck. Swimming and flapping, the duck is just quick enough to stay out of reach of the dog who relentlessly pursues him. The duck is tiring and makes a frantic effort to reach the safety of a fallen tree in the lake. EXT. DECK - DAY The argument continues:

CARPENTER

You don’t get any points for winging a duck. You’ve got to kill it.

The crowd debates the issue. Burt steps in to try to restore order.

BURT

Hold it. Hold it. The rules say you get one point for a kill and one-half point for a hit.

JIMBO

We ain’t talkin points here! The bet was for a hit.

The crowd erupts in arguments, debating both sides of the issue. EXT. LAKE – DAY The duck reaches the safety of the tangled limbs of the fallen tree. The dog swims all around it but can’t penetrate the tangle of limbs and branches. A black man carrying a long pole with a hook on the end approaches the tree from the shore and begins prodding the duck, trying to scare out or gaff the quacking, terrified bird. EXT. DECK/LAKEFRONT – DAY As the arguments rage on around him, Matt swings his feet over the rail and drops to the ground. He stoically walks to the lake shore. Seeing him approach, the man with the pole backs away. Matt quietly wades chest deep into the water and digs into the tree’s branches where he finds the exhausted duck huddled against the trunk. He gently reaches in and seizes it. He retrieves the bird and, holding it closely to his chest, he walks out of the water and back up the lawn towards the pavilion. EXT. DECK – DAY

JIMBO

Well hell, I can end this argument right now. If I gotta kill it, that’s what I’ll do.

He takes another gun and turns towards the lake but he stops and stares.

JIMBO

What tha hell?

The crowd follows his gaze. A hush falls over them as they watch Matt, hugging the duck to his chest, walk up the bank. EXT. PAVILION YARD – DAY – ANGLE ON MATT Head down, Matt trudges up the lawn. He ignores the crowd as he proceeds around the building towards the lodge and his car, the duck cradled in his arms. EXT. DECK – DAY When Matt’s out of sight, the crowd begins talking again. Carpenter is concerned, and annoyed, by the turn of events. Jimbo taunts him.

JIMBO

Hey Pete! Looks like yore golden boy don’t like duck huntin. (laughs) An you’re out five-hunnert bucks! (laughs harder)

Burt takes over, calling for the next number.

BURT

Alright everybody. Alright. (waves for order) We’re gonna have to let these two gentlemen work it out for themselves. Time for the next shooter. Spin the wheel honey.

EXT. LODGE PARKING LOT – DAY Matt walks up to his car and fumbles for his keys while holding the struggling duck. Charlie spots him and hurries over.

CHARLIE

Ah’s sorry. Ah didn’t see you comin.

Matt hands the duck to Charlie.

MATT

Can you hold this a minute?

CHARLIE

Why sho.

Charlie holds the duck as Matt removes his new shirt.

CHARLIE

Whatchu gonna do wit dis here duck? You want I kin dress em out for ya... You all wet! What happened?

Matt, now in t-shirt, takes the duck from Charlie and wraps it tightly in his new shirt. Without saying a word, he gets in, puts the key in the ignition and, holding the duck while steering the car and working the gear shift, he backs out and drives away. Befuddled, Charlie watches him go, and turns shaking his head.