1-1 Close-up on a can o’ beans. The label depicts a cowboy crouching with a pan over an open fire. The image has a couple layers of meaning: obviously Coyote Don is beholding the can along with the reader; a real life cowboy who is not in fact a real life cowboy, just as the cowboy on the can is an image of an actor playing a cowboy. The panel also evokes Andy Warhol’s soup cans. And then there’s the little fact that Coyote Don is eating (or contemplating eating) a can of beans—another symbol of homelessness and his fall from grace.
1-2 The pay-off: Coyote is crouching over a small, smoldering flame. Background scenery establishes him in some woodsy area not too far from civilization: there are littered beer cans and candy wrappers nearby the madrones, manzanitas and knobcone pine. Coyote’s puffing out his mustache a bit in fleeting indignation.
1. COYOTE DON: MFF.
2-1 Coyote, using his greasy bandana to hold the hot, charred can, empties a mouthful of baked beans down his gullet, his eyes closed and wincing.
2-2 Large panel shows a small trailhead parking lot in the blue light of dusk. The only car in the lot is a stolen white ’68 Mustang. Wooden railings. Knobcone pines, toyon bushes, some invasive eucalyptus, a few scrub oaks. A long-neglected bulletin board for the trailhead, with yellowed notices warning of mountain lions, bears, and fire dangers.
1. TEXT BOX: BLUNDERBUSS CANYON
EAST OF EL EMPRESA
2. COYOTE: (off-panel, from the trail beyond) PTUEWWKCH!! BLEHHH! EUGGHH!
2-3 Coyote gets to his feet in a sudden fit of pique. He’s jumping, his face contorted into disgust and fury.
3. COYOTE: GODDAMIT! GODDAMIT! RAAWRRGH!
2-4 Kicks the can of beans from the fire pit, sending dirt and ash and cinders flying.
4. COYOTE: I HATE BEANS! FUH—!
5. COYOTE: I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!
2-5 Coyote, fallen backwards, props himself up on his elbows, all soot and dirt and greasy hair and gray stubble and tears streaming down his face. He’s sobbing quietly.
6. COYOTE: H-HUH-HU-HHUH…
2-6 Same view as 2-2, the parking lot and white Mustang. Coyote Don’s voice carries through as a whimper, almost a whisper…
7. COYOTE: I’M SORRY…
8. COYOTE: I’M SO SORRY.
3-1 Jeremy is grounded, looking forlornly out his window at his car parked in the center island below. He drives a blue mid-90s Isuzu Sidekick (what else? They seriously make this way too easy for a writer…). The sky is just beginning to lighten.
1. JEREMY: FUCK.
3-2 Inside his room, Jeremy paces in front of his computer. The computer screen displays the welcome screen for Outlet II: The Game [see 2-7-8]. His alarm clock reads 6:18 am.
2. JEREMY: FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK.
3-3 Jeremy is building up steam. He pauses to lean against the window looking out, propping himself with his hands at the corners of the frame. His face is a grimace.
3. JEREMY: I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING. I DIDN’T EVEN DO ANYTHING.
3-4 A glimpse at Jeremy when he’s angry: we see his face up close, his head turned to the side, bitter, almost as if addressing someone over his shoulder.
4. JEREMY: NOT THAT I HAVE ANYWHERE TO GO…
3-5 Jeremy spins around to face his room, and he’s in a defiant stance, his legs apart, his arms at his side raised slightly in fists, palms up. He’s screaming.
5. JEREMY: WHY AM I GROUNDED? WHY ME?!
6. JEREMY: I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING!!!
4-1 Full page.
The faded gray and yellow light of dawn. Coyote Don is standing in front of the smoldering fire pit, frowning down at something in his hands and deep in thought amid the trailside trees, shrubs, and litter. We see his full get-up now in more detail, and it’s not like it was on the set of television show The Adventures of Coyote Don.
He’s got a light pink polyester thrift store shirt with scalloped yokes and snap buttons with fake mother of pearl plastic inlay. The shirt has synthetic gabardine tassles (also pink). His pants are made of naugahyde vinyl, peeling and cracking with age at the crotch and seams. His shoes are costume shop Pilgrim boots like this, but high-top (http://bit.ly/bI9Cpn), black leather with a pointed toe and large brass buckle and a tall square tongue. His shirt has the top two buttons unbuttoned, but no chest hair shows through: Coyote Don may be from the 70s, but he’s not manly like that. If anything, we see a cheap white cotton tank-top undershirt (sorry, I hate the term “wife beater”). And tied around his neck is a loosely fitting red bandana.
His hat is a light tan felt cowboy hat—perhaps the only “authentic” thing about his costume. And whether it’s stolen, paid for, found or pulled out of storage, he’s obviously cared for it very well. it looks like this (http://bit.ly/9xrs65) or this (http://bit.ly/brcAur). The right artist will understand that if the hat is to short, he’ll look too modern and too “cool”, but if the hat is too tall it runs the risk of becoming a distraction and too much of a joke. There is humor about Coyote Don, but his hat must be taken very seriously.
Unfortunately, I could not take his boots seriously.
Coyote is examining a harmonica in his hands. His expression is tired and troubled. He is trying to figure something out.
1. COYOTE: (text box) SOMETHIN’ AIN’T RIGHT.
5-1 Coyote walks back down the trail, his back to us as he tosses something over his shoulder.
5-2 Close-up on the harmonica laying on the ground where it landed.
1. COYOTE: (text box) DAMNED IF I KNOW WHAT IT IS.
5-3 Coyote appears at the trailhead, near the bulletin board. He stands at the edge of the parking lot asphalt looking stunned.
2. COYOTE: DAMN.
5-4 The parking lot is empty.
5-5 Looking beyond Coyote Don, we see the bulletin board behind him clearly reads:
NO OVERNIGHT PARKING
VIOLATORS WILL BE TOWED
5-6 Coyote starts walking along the side of the road.
3. COYOTE: (text box) VIOLATORS…
6-1 Jeremy is standing outside his home—the scene of the former scuffle with Coyote Don (see 2-16 to 2-20)—his backpack on, his thumbs gripping the corner of the straps where they adjoin the backpack, expressionlessly waiting for his mom to take him to school.
6-2 Same image, Jeremy still expressionless even as he shouts for his mom.
1. JEREMY: MOM.
2. JEREMY: I’M GOING TO BE LATE.
3. SALLY: (off-panel) HEY JEREMY.
6-3 Jeremy looks to his right and sees Sally Clemens heading to her car. She’s got a backpack slung over one shoulder. She’s wearing sunglasses and a purple t-shirt, torn from shoulder to shoulder, retro-80s-style. You can just see behind his expressionless face Jeremy thinking: She’s so cool.
4. JEREMY: HEY SAL—
5. TEXT BOX SALLY CLEMENS, 23. COLLEGE STUDENT. DANCE OR SOMETHING.
6. SALLY: YOU NEED A RIDE TO SCHOOL?
7. JEREMY: HUH?
8. JEREMY: NO, UH. MY MOM—
6-4 Sally in her car pulling out of her parking spot. Her window down, she gives Jeremy a wink and a smile as she shifts into drive in front of him.
9. SALLY: SUIT YOURSELF!
10. SALLY: SEE YA!
6-5 The faint hint of puppy-dog eyes in Jeremy’s close-up blank face…
11. JEREMY: BYE…
12. TEXT BOX: A DANCER. A POEM. A RIPPLE.
13. TEXT BOX: WHENAS IN SILKS MY SALLY GOES / THEN, THEN (METHINKS) HOW SWEETLY FLOWS / THAT LIQUEFACTION OF HER CLOTHES…*
14. SOUND TEXT: BZZZZZZZZZZZZT.
[There’s a delicate balancing act in this scene, as it appears that Jeremy is having a little “crazy” moment. It should be hinted at, but ultimately unclear, that Jeremy might be suffering the onset of some kind of schizophrenic symptoms. However he IS also just a teenager who DOES live in his own head most of the time so the page should not strongly favor one conclusion or another.]
7-1 Jeremy’s still waiting outside for his mom to come and drive him to school. He’s lost in some reverie—he’s not smiling though; this reverie is casting a totally blank expression on his face—the only change in his posture is subtle: Jeremy is now wearing his backpack slung over a single shoulder. In the background across the next suite of side-by-side panels, he is daydreaming and ignoring the vibrating buzz of his cell phone.
1. TEXT BOX: COULD BE BALLET DANCER. DOESN’T SEEM HER STYLE. YOU HATE BALLET.
2. SOUND TEXT: BZZZZZZZZZZZZT
7-2 Same image. Only now Jeremy is dancing like Vanilla Ice. Is that the Running Man he’s doing?
3. TEXT BOX: MAYBE A MODERN DANCER. YOU COULD GIVE THAT A TRY.
4. SOUND TEXT: BZZZZZZZZZZZZT
7-3 Now he’s posing like a zombie. Or a robot? No, he’s trying to dance like a rap artist…
5. TEXT BOX: NOT HIP HOP THOUGH. YOU COULDN’T DO THAT. JUST DON’T GET IT.
6. SOUND TEXT: BZZZZZZZZZZZZT
7-4 Jeremy looks down and realizes his phone has been ringing. Except it’s not ringing anymore…
7. TEXT BOX: WAS THAT MY PHONE?
7-5 Jeremy pulls his black flip-phone from his pocket, flips it open. The screen reads:
7-6 The phone’s screen changes as Margaret Shofari calls back…
8. SOUND TEXT: BZZZZZZZZZZZZT
7-7 Jeremy answers the phone innocently.
9. JEREMY: HULLO?
10. MARGARET: (as phone text) JEREMY? I WAS JUST CALLING TO SEE IF YOU MADE IT TO SCHOOL OKAY.
7-8 Jeremy looks back at the house, confused.
11. MARGARET: (phone text) REMEMBER? I HAD TO LEAVE EARLY FOR WORK?
12. MARGARET: (phone text) I TOLD YOU, YOU COULD USE YOUR CAR, BUT ONLY TO GO TO AND FROM CLASS.
7-9 Jeremy looks up dimly at his Isuzu.
13. MARGARET: (phone text) ARE YOU STILL AT HOME?
8-1 Jeremy looks up, dumbstruck, the phone still pressed partially to his ear.
1. JEREMY: I COULD BE A DANCER.
2. MARGARET: WHAT?
3. MARGARET: JEREMY, ARE YOU FEELING OKAY?
4. TEXT BOX: TELL HER, JEREMY. YOU’RE THE STAR OF THE SHOW.
5. JEREMY: HUH? OH, NOTHING, MOM. YEAH—
8-2 Looking at the rear of the Isuzu as the engine starts up and a cough of exhaust puffs out a bit. We can make out Jeremy’s head in the driver seat, adjusting the rear view mirror. His eyes look dark and troubled. In the lower right corner we can see the make and model of the car spelled out for us: the words ISUZU and SIDEKICK.
6. JEREMY: —I CAN HEAR THE STARTING BELL RIGHT NOW.
7. TEXT BOX: …THEY CAN’T START WITHOUT YOU.
8-3 Wide-shot panning across the parking lot of a shopping center of big box stores: PRICETAG ELECTRONICS, BEDSHEETS & THINGS, BURNS & OBEL BOOKS, SPORTMARKET, COMP-U-NATION, OFFICE STATION, SUPER-BULLSEYE. So vast is the parking lot on this sunny weekday morning that we can practically make out the curvature of the earth…
8. TEXT BOX: THREE MILES AWAY…
8-4 Pan in to Coyote Don, looking a lot like Dorothy when she steps outside her house in Oz for the first time.
9. COYOTE: (text box) NOPE.
10. COYOTE: (text box) SOMETHIN’ AIN’T RIGHT, HERE.
9-1 Huge panel, maybe half or two-thirds of the page: wide-angle crane shot of Coyote Don entering an old Western desert valley town. This is his imagination. POV from above and behind Coyote, looking down the main thoroughfare. It’s California chaparral in the distance, not Texan or Arizonan. The dominant colors are sage green, and brown. Dried out sagebrush, lots of laurel sumac (http://bit.ly/bCr5Bc, http://bit.ly/afBxTa), yucca (http://bit.ly/cHMRIo), ceanothus (http://bit.ly/azis3Q). In the distant background, above the vanishing point of the frame, looms Saddleback Mountain (http://bit.ly/aYp6tT, http://bit.ly/d9Jjop, http://bit.ly/ajlQa4), the twin peaks of Modjeska and Santiago that form the saddle for which Saddleback Valley is named.
The main street of the town itself is a mix of American and Spanish-Mexican, with white-washed adobe/stucco and Spanish tile roofs interspersed with some wooden buildings like you’d see in a Western ghost town. The look is cohesive, and they don’t seem out of place next to one another. The street isn’t empty of human life, either: nondescript extras (in old Western and Victorian garb) walk past, their faces utterly expressionless.
1. COYOTE: WHERE AM I?
9-2 Horizontal panel, close-up profile of Coyote’s face on the left-hand side of the panel, the main street stretching out to the right, with a couple of the Spanish stucco-and-tile and Western American facades. Coyote’s brow is furrowed, he looks skeptical and alert. A close look reveals a few telling details on the buildings: the signs are the names of the box stores (see 8-3).
2. COYOTE: (text box) THIS AIN’T LOS AN-GELEEZ, EXACTLY.
9-3 Close-up on Coyote’s eyes. He’s squinting, Eastwood-style, and carefully checking his peripheral view.
3. COYOTE: (text box) NOT ENOUGH HURLY-BURLY. TOO…
4. COYOTE: (text box) …ORDERLY. IT AIN’T NATURAL.
9-4 Mid-shot of the street scene. A pair of people in the foreground, right side of panel, walking towards us past the lone cowboy standing in the middle of the street. One of them is looking back at him over her shoulder, but still expressionless. In the mid-ground Coyote, back to us with his head turned to the right so we can just barely see him making eye contact with his watcher out of the corner of his eyes…
5. COYOTE: (under his breath) WHATTER YOU LOOKIN’ AT?
10-1 Coyote stoops to drink from a water pump next to a trough outside one of the stucco buildings in this small Western town. He’s pumping the lever as the water gurgles out and he slurps lavishly.
1. SOUND TEXT: URGGLE-GURRRGGGLE
2. SOUND TEXT: SMACK SMACK SLURP
10-2 A single panel betrays the actual scene (we’ll call these cuts back to reality “quick flashes” to avoid confusion in scenes that place Coyote in both settings): Coyote Don crouched by an outdoor water faucet next at the edge of the parking lot, next to some landscaping shrubbery. A small sign hanging from the faucet reads
AGUA NO POTABLE
DO NOT DRINK
10-3 Coyote stands back up—he’s back next to the old trough—and wipes his mouth with his sleeve. He appears deep in thought.
3. COYOTE : (text) WHY WOULD THEY TRY TO FRAME ME?
10-4 Coyote ambles down the thoroughfare, amid faceless crowds of townsfolk.
4. COYOTE: (text) WHY WOULD THEY KILL MABEL?
10-4 Quick flash: grounds-eye view looking up at the corner of a big box store and the blinding sun above it. The top of a palm tree in the other corner. No clouds.
5. COYOTE: (text) WHAT COULD THEY WANT FROM ME?
10-5 Quick flash: Coyote’s gaze—and ours—is lowered to the front of the big box store SUPER-BULLSEYE. Shoppers are entering and exiting the store, heading to and from their cars. A police car is parked right in front.
6. COYOTE: (text) CALLAHAN?
7. COYOTE: (text) BUT WHY—?
11-1 A window above a general store slams shut as Coyote ambles through the main street of this Western town.
1. SOUND TEXT: SLAM!
2. COYOTE: (text box) BETTER QUESTION:
11-2 Coyote whistles soundlessly, thinking.
3. COYOTE: (text box) WHAT KIND OF PLACE IS THIS?
11-3 Close-up of Coyote’s eyes, squinting and looking off to the left (his right).
11-4 Crane shot of the thoroughfare, now deserted. Coyote Don stands alone in the middle of the dusty street.
4. COYOTE: IT JUST DON’T MAKE ANY SENSE—
11-5 Coyote looks up at the signs painted on the facades of all the buildings along the street. Though the buildings make be different, the signs all read GENERAL STORE. Look closer and you can see that the buildings are all false facades, movie facades that have no real buildings. You can see the dusty chaparral through some of the windows and swinging doors.
5. COYOTE: WHO WOULD BUILD A TOWN LIKE THIS?
6. TEXT BOX: IT’S LIKE EVERYTHING IS MADE TO SEEM NORMAL…
[This scene, spanning the next three pages, is a jigsaw puzzle that should read fluidly in the right order: it cuts between three settings: (a) Jeremy at school, angry at his mental lapse; (b) Sally at work, getting a call from her father’s grocery store that he hasn’t shown up for work in a couple days; and (b) Coyote Don, roaming the parking lot of a shopping center and getting increasingly paranoid and uncomfortable with his surroundings. Their dialogue plays off one another, and illustrates each other’s situation.]
12-1 Jeremy has just parked in the student lot at El Empresa High. He’s looking straight ahead, his hands still on the steering wheel. Looking through the passenger window across the driver side where he’s seated, we see the high school a hundred yards away or so. He’s late to school, so there aren’t many students around
1. JEREMY: (text box) SOMETHING’S JUST NOT RIGHT.
2. SALLY: (from following panel) THIS IS SO FUCKED.
12-2 Sally is at the OK Corral, dressed in her cowgirl pink get-up and standing next to the bar and trying to have a conversation on her cell phone as a couple of dancers are mindlessly performing in the background. She looks incredulous and angry. She just got a call from the supermarket where her father works asking where he is, telling her that he hasn’t been in to work all week and he hasn’t been returning calls.
3. JEREMY: (text box) IT’S LIKE AN OUT OF BODY EXPERIENCE.
4. SALLY: ALL WEEK HE’S BEEN OUT?
12-3 Sally has her hand against her forehead, pushing up her blonde locks as she grimaces.
5. SALLY: NO, I’VE NO IDEA WHERE DAD COULD BE. I SAW HIM LAST NIGHT…
6. SALLY: LISTEN, I’M SURE HE’S JUST REALLY SICK RIGHT—
12-4 Coyote Don, wide-eyed and dopey-looking, looking down at the camera, at something on the ground.
7. SALLY: (from preceding panel) NO, NOT LIKE THAT. LOOK, LET ME JUST—
12-5 Coyote’s hand snatches a rumpled, discarded pack of Marlboros from the gutter at the edge of the parking lot of the box stores.
8. COYOTE: HNNF.
9. SALLY: (text box) IT’S JUST HIS MEDS, YOU DON’T HAVE TO—
12-6 Coyote, crumpled cigarette hanging from between his lips, pats his chest looking for a pocket, searching for a light. Nothing.
10. TEACHER: (text box) HAS ANYONE SEEN MR. LERNER?
11. SALLY: (text box) YES, I’LL HOLD…
13-1 A high school biology classroom. The teacher is looking up from behind thick glasses, her finger on a binder at her desk.
1. JEREMY: I’M HERE…
13-2 Jeremy takes his seat, trying desperately not to look at anyone. Everyone is staring at him—most look vacantly amused or distracted, some sneering and mocking. His face is bright red.
2. JEREMY: SORRY I’M LATE.
13-3 Sally is leaning against the bar now, her head propped against one hand, angry and defeated. The bartender looks over his shoulder at her, concerned, as he dries a glass.
3. SALLY: YES, I’M HERE—
4. COYOTE: (text box) WAIT A MINUTE…
13-4 Coyote recedes as the camera zooms out into the sky, taking in the old Western town in which he imagines himself and the rolling foothills and chaparral surrounding it, and Saddleback Mountain looming in the distance.
5. COYOTE: I’VE FIGURED IT OUT.
6. SALLY: (text box) …HE’S NOT CRAZY. HE LOVES HIS JOB.
13-5 Jeremy roams the tree-lined asphalt paths between periods, his head down, his back to us. It’s passing period, and there are lots of students laughing and talking and bustling, and all of them are ignoring him. Stuck to his back is a piece of torn-off notebook paper that reads SMALL DICKS NEED LOVE TOO 848-SUKIT.
7. SALLY: (text box) NO, WAIT—!
8. COYOTE: THERE’S SOMETHING ELSE BEHIND THIS…THIS…
14-1 Jeremy, facing us now, looks up quizzically at a vulture perched on the roof of the single-story, rough-hewn brown cinder-block school building. He feels something and reaches behind his back as he watches the bird.
1. COYOTE: (text box) …EVIL.
14-2 Sally staring at her phone, eyes downcast and pursing her lips.
2. SALLY: BASTARDS.
3. SALLY: IT AIN’T RIGHT.
14-3 Jeremy, clutching the piece of notebook paper in one fist, clenching the other fist at his side, legs apart challengingly, his face a contorted look of disgust and boiling scorn.
4. JEREMY: SOMEONE.
5. JEREMY: IS.
6. JEREMY: GOING.
7. JEREMY: TO PAY.
8. JEREMY: FOR.
9. JEREMY: THIS.
14-4 Jeremy is back in his car, peeling out of his parking spot. His face is red. His mouth is open. He’s in tears.
10. JEREMY: FUCK THIS.
11. IRIS MEREDITH: (from next panel) WHERE YOU GOING?
15-1 Sally grabs her sweatshirt and purse and heads back out the door as the bartender leans over and watches her go and Iris Meredith calls after her.
1. SALLY: HOME.
2. SALLY: I THINK I’VE LOST MY DAD.
15-2 Jeremy’s Isuzu bounces along the road as it heads for the hills east of El Empresa. In the distance, behind the hills, we can make out the outline of Saddleback Mountain.
3. JEREMY: I THINK I’VE FIGURED IT OUT.
4. JEREMY: IT’S NOT ME. I’M NOT CRAZY.
15-3 As the camera zooms out, we can see the strip mall and box stores where Coyote is as the Isuzu bounces past.
5. JEREMY: (text box) THE WHOLE WORLD IS NUTS.
15-4 Coyote looks dumbstruck with revelation, his mouth hanging open, crushed cigarette dangling from his lower lip.
5. COYOTE: VAN KLEEVEN.
6. JEREMY: (text box) YOU HAD A HUNCH.
15-5 Coyote starts striding briskly across the half-mile-long parking lot, suddenly urgent.
7. COYOTE: I’M SO FOOLISH, HOW COULD I NOT HAVE SEEN IT?
8. COYOTE: IT’S SO SIMPLE.
16-1 Coyote Don is running at the camera, he cheeks puffed out as he exhales, his arms pumping, through the wilderness. The old Western town is behind him in the distance. He’s running for his life.
1. COYOTE: ROSIE!
2. COYOTE: (HUFF)
3. COYOTE: WHERE’S THAT DAMN HORSE WHEN YOU NEED HER?
16-2 Now we see what he’s running from. It’s a posse. On horseback, about a quarter mile away. Guns and lassos and dust and rough terrain. Closing in.
16-3 Coyote looks over his shoulder, sweating bullets and grimacing with his chin jutted, as he continues to run toward us. Off panel, to Coyote’s right (our left) a voice shouts. It’s Pancho Sanchez.
4. SANCHEZ: (off-panel) PSST—! SEÑOR COYOTE!
16-4 There, amid the manzanitas, laurel sumac and sage behind a large tan-colored boulder, crouches a Mexican with thick rectangular moustache. He’s wearing a woven poncho of dirty brown, plum, orange and beige, and a straw sombrero hangs off his back from a leather cord around his neck. Sanchez is beckoning wildly. We might be able to just barely make out the small gulch down past the boulder and behind Sanchez.
5. SANCHEZ: OVER HERE! COME!
16-5 Coyote, stopping for a split second, looks once more over his shoulder.
16-6 The posse is getting closer. They’re only a hundred yards away. We can see their faces, stubble and beards, guns waving, teeth bared.
16-7 Coyote dives into the brush behind the boulder.
6. COYOTE: UNGGHK!
17-1 One-third-page panel. The posse pulls up at the spot where they saw Coyote Don disappear. Five of them. They’re a mean bunch, missing their collective teeth. Whatever teeth they aren’t missing are crooked. They all wear snarls. Some wield shotguns, others have black Colt revolvers. Their horses are black and mottled gray and brown: none are pretty. These are so totally Van Kleeven’s men.
17-2 The men look at one anther, shuffling in growing uncertainty. The ringleader roars an order.
1. RINGLEADER: HE CAN’T’VE GONE FAR, BOYS. DISMOUNT.
17-3 The ringleader sneers a dirty-toothed sneer as he cocks his enormous pistol near his face.
2. RINGLEADER: WE’LL GIT ‘IM ON FOOT.
17-4 A mule staggers up the slope in the foreground, catching the men in the mid-ground by surprise.
17-5 Sanchez looks into the camera and grins confidently.
3. SANCHEZ: HELLO, SEÑORS.
4. SANCHEZ: YOU SHOULD PROBABLY SOORENDER YOUR GONS.
18-1 The posse looks at one another in bewilderment.
18-2 The posse bursts out laughing. But only for a moment, because…
18-3 A white mustang leaps overhead with a piercing whinny.
1. SOUND TEXT: HRNHNHNHNR-HR-HRNN!
18-4 The thugs are sent flying, or diving for cover, hanging on to their hats as they are scattered.
18-5 Looking up in dramatically foreshortened perspective at the nose of Coyote’s silver-and-white Colt as he pursing his lips and fires with a vengeance
2. SOUND TEXT: BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!
18-6 The iconic image of Coyote Don on his faithful steed Rosie as he throws his head back and howls his signature howl at the sky. (Remember, this is no mere flashback, this is a cheesy TV program from the seventies.)
3. COYOTE: (sound text) A-ROOU-ROO-ROOOOOOOOOOU!
19-1 Sanchez, from the back of his mule, surveys the scene approvingly: four dead posse members strewn about the desert floor.
1. SANCHEZ: EXCELLENT SHOT, SEÑOR COYOTE.
19-2 Coyote looks around at the carnage, frowning, one hand gripping Rosie’s reins, the other, partly out of view, lowering his gun.
2. COYOTE: THANKY, SANCHEZ.
3. COYOTE: WEREN’T THERE FIVE OF THEM?
19-3 From beneath a Sumac bush not ten feet away the injured ringleader pulls himself up to one elbow and takes steady aim with his black gun.
4. SANCHEZ: (off-panel) COYOTE—!
19-4 Nailed! The ringleader’s gun flies out of his hand and gasps in pain as he is shot.
5. RINGLEADER: AAAGHH!
19-5 Sanchez, facing us and looking at the ground before him, lowering his smoking double-barreled shotgun slowly.
6. SANCHEZ: SÍ, SEÑOR COYOTE.
7. SANCHEZ: FIVE.
20-1 Coyote Don nods with grim satisfaction. His back is straight, and he looks like a real hero in a cowboy Western in this frame.
1. COYOTE: NICE SHOOTIN’, SANCHEZ.
2. COYOTE: GLAD I RAN INTO YOU.
20-2 Sanchez smiles at the flattery as he packs the saddlebags of his mule with gear purloined from the dead bodies.
3. SANCHEZ: DE NADA, SEÑOR COYOTE. IT IS YOU WHO HAVE HELPED ME.
20-3 Large panel. The two in silhouette ride off side by side into the setting sun. Saddleback Mountain is a distant speck, other mountains loom, and many hills and valleys.
4. COYOTE: EITHER WAY. I RECKON I DON’T KNOW WHAT I’D DO WITHOUT YOU.
Dusk. A lone Jeremy Lerner sits on the hood of his blue Isuzu Sidekick, perched on a rise looking over El Empresa and Saddleback Valley. His arms are wrapped loosely around his knees. Saddleback Mountain looms off to the right. The last sliver of sun is just about to dip below the horizon. This is Jeremy’s thinking place. It’s in the hills east of El Empresa, platted and soon to be developed into more condos. not far from the strip mall of box stores where Coyote Don roamed earlier today.
1. COYOTE: (text box) ANYHOW, I’M LUCKY TO HAVE YOU BY MY SIDE.
2. COYOTE: (text box) YOU SNEAK AWAY AGAIN, I’LL FIND YOU.
END OF EPISODE THREE.