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Ruthless Roscoe By Benjamin Javid

Copyright 2009 by Benjamin Benjamin Javid Javid javid44@hotmail.com Registered, WGAe

FADE IN: INT. ROSCOES HOME -BISBEE, ARIZONA - 1880 - DAY ROSCOE BLOOMSDALE (30s) with nothing on but faded long johns, nervously wanders throughout his home. He is panic ridden as he tries to gather his breath: breathing through the nose, holding it in. Release. Repeat. He grumbles to himself as he continues his awkward gallop throughout his home. His hands tremble slightly, he massages them together. He stops short. His CAT affectionately rubs herself onto Roscoes leg, purring with intention. The cat walks away but turns to Roscoe as if he needs to follow. The cat begins her strut into another room. INT. ROSCOES BEDROOM -CONTINUOUS The cat jumps onto abed which reveals rows upon rows of weapons (guns, knives). He finds acozy spot to rest. In the doorway stands asilhouetted Roscoe. He overlooks the scene in reverie. His fists clinch. The felines dagger like eyes trance onto Roscoes eyes.A true companion. EXT. ROSCOES BACKYARD -SUNSET -SHORT TIME LATER A BAREFOOTED Roscoe wearing aDUSTER and holding a12-gauge double-barreled shotgun, barges out of his front door of his well-built home which is surrounded by wilderness. He walks by a NOTE pinned down by arock beside his door. He moves with intention towards aweapons stand which lies an arsenal of weapons. He fiercely stands 20 feet away from a row of TREES that are severely BATTERED from target practice. He rises the shotgun to eye level-- still alook of hesitation, he cringes. He takes in deep breathe-- he re-positions his stance. Hes ready now...


CONTINUED: (2) ROSCOE (repeating) Fear is the enemy. (ready to unleash fury) Kick that bastard in the teeth.


Roscoe lightly massaging the first trigger, clicks. He FIRES the first shot, nearly edging the tree. A HORSE neighs in the b.g. He mentally brushes off the missed shot. His finger on the 2nd trigger, and hes focused. He shoots again, BAM! He connects right in the middle of the wounded tree. Roscoe lets out a furious ROAR. He throws the weapon to the ground and quickly grabsa Revolver and unleashes shots right on target. Chunks of the tree start chiseling away. ROSCOE (CONTD) Ruthless Roscoe at your fucking service! He sets theRevolverback on table. He scours through weapons, looking for the perfect choice and locks eyes ona set of FIVE HUNTING BLADES. But he stops in his tracks. He analyzes his hands-- steady as arock, he fists his hands with apreening expression---Without notice, he grabs one of the knives and chucks it right at the target. Acouple pieces of BARK plummets to the ground. He throws another knife, like a Mayan warrior, it ricochets off the previously thrown blade. ROSCOE (CONTD) (repeating) Face the fear. He grips another blade and throws it with all his might, it hits another tree lodged blade and cracks it in half from the handle. Roscoe quickly cringes and lets out asubtle sigh of agony-holding his right shoulder: ROSCOE (CONTD) God damn sonuvabitch! He quickly grabs ashotgun. (CONTINUED)



BAM! Unleashes aheavy shot to the same tree, knives and tree matter blow out; moreover, this causes the tree to slightly sway back and forth. The end is near for the old tree. Roscoe smiles at the sight. He brings the Shotgun back to eye level. He is quiet and focused. He aims like asharpshooter. ROSCOE (CONTD) You die now, you hear... BOOM! CIRRACKKKK! The tree begins to unhinge from its foundation. Roscoe watches in reverie as the tree begins to plummet, no more than 10 feet away from him. BOOOM! Hes close enough to send Roscoes hair and jacket SWOOSHING around furiously. His eyes widen with no other emotion present. EXT. ROSCOES BACKYARD -SOMETIME LATER - NIGHT While walking back into his home, Roscoe notices the NOTE from earlier. He glares at it intently before picking it up. The note displays: "Jim Stirrup", "Last one Roscoe, make it count". EXT. DESERT- BISBEE, ARIZONA -DAY Stark terror consumes adirtied up, weary FARMER.He seeks refuge behind a large bed rock. With a revolver in hand, he urgently tries to load it with fresh shells until... MAN (O.S) Ismell ya! Blood in the air!I smell it. Farmer drops the bullets. His eyes concentration to load at least one locks it and raises his gun. BANG, around the barrel as the gun fires widen and musters enough shell into the chamber, AGLOVED HAND clenches hitting nothing but air.

Roscoe rips the gun out the Farmers hand. ROSCOE Sweaty mitts, huh? (grabs the bullets off the ground) These here look like Arsenals. AmI right? The glumly Farmer eyes Roscoe intently.


CONTINUED: (2) ROSCOE (CONTD) You think I like chasin you around this here desert. Knowin you gone die, it dont do me no good Jim. It aint a good feelin, makes me down right feel like akiller.


Roscoe flips the chamber open and places one of the dropped bullets into the chamber and shuts it. JIM (cries out) Ihave ayoung one. A boy. He aint man enough yet. (tugging at Roscoes sleeve) Ill pay. Ill pay. Just need more time---Roscoe shoves the Mans arm away. JIM (CONTD) Dont you have asoul young sir. NO SOUL! ROSCOE Shut that mangy mouth shut,you hear. You barkin ata knot. You think I havent heard itall before? Jim swallows the unjust truth. ROSCOE (CONTD) Youve been told manya time, to pay up. CASTROS a fair man. Kind man he is. But you use him up like awhore. Not payin up an such. Aint nothin free, not in this life. When its time to collect you give the man his coin or life will be took and Im thatthieving man... Jim lightly cries out. Defeated. JIM No soul you have! Ibeg of mercy. Beat. ROSCOE (beaming) Igot some good medicine for ya Jim. (CONTINUED)

CONTINUED: (3) Jim looks up brightly, still in adog position. ROSCOE (CONTD) This cannon hereonly got one shell. Now Icant just let you up in leave, I aint built like that. But you got aone in six chance of livin. (spins the chamber and smacks the side to stop it.) Aint gonna get no better thanthis for ya.


A teary-eyed Jim perplexed by the sudden shred of light in the situation. He nods vigorously in acceptance. JIM You mighty fine soul. The Lord will change you... ROSCOE (deadpan) Just sit up. Jim quickly gets on his knees, cowering. ROSCOE (CONTD) Get set now. Alright? This wont take long. Roscoe glides the gun right in the middle of Jims forehead. Jim with both hands, grips the long barrel for dear life. Roscoes face finally shown as he moves his attention away from Jim. Jim looks like ablur at this point, as Roscoes emotionless expression transfixes himself to passing birds that fly above. Short Beat. ROSCOE (CONTD) (in Reverie) You ever win somethin, Jim? Jim on the verge of vomiting. JIM I...I.. Ne....Ne...Never---Roscoe quickly pulls the trigger. No fire. Jims expression resembles a child on afrightening roller-coaster. Then, cracks half-hearted smirk. (CONTINUED)



Roscoe rolls his eyes in disgust. ROSCOE (ashamed) Sorry bud... CLICK, no fire. CLICK, no fire. Jims aghast. CLICK, BOOM! A piercing shot to Jims forehead, his body flies backwards toward the bed rock. Roscoe stares at Jims dead body in deep thought.