INT. THE VIDEO ALCOVE, WITH VIDEO CUSTOMER
Heís playing one of three or four video games in the middle of the
room. The others are showing their "come-on" phases. There are a
couple of pinball machines along the back wall. Along the left wall
are vending machires plus two pay telephones. Vending machines:
cigarettes, snacks, coffee. The VlDEO CUSTOMER is intent on his game.
He's really into it.
Suddenly, the games normal pattern explodes in colors and swirls.
All the games come alive.
What the fuck!
Heís stunned. All the machines are going crazy. The pinball machines
spit out dozens of balls.
The cigarette machine spews pack of cigarettes and change; the
coffee machine jets coffee onto the floor; the snacks came pouring
out, along with more change; money falls out of the coin returns of
the phones. Tne VIOEO PATTRON stares at all of this, stunned.
EXT. AN ISLAND OF DIESEL PUMPS IN FRONT OF THE DIXlE-8OY
DUNCAN is filling HANDY'S truck. Suddenly there is a METALLIC
SCREECHING SOUND. DUNCAN looks at his pump. The numbers have frozen.
He taps the glass. Nothing. He hammers on top of the pump. Nothing. He
pulls the nozzle from the fill-pipe and looks into it. Diesel fuel
sprays promptly into his face. DUNCAN falls to the gravel, shrieking.
My eyes! My eyes! MY EYES!!
INT. HENDERSHOTíS DESK, CU
The buff-colored time-card comes down. WILLIAM ROBERTSON is
written across tne top, and below are the usual timee-clock punches. At
the top right of the time-card is a small red stick-on star.
You punched in at 6:58 this morning,
INT. HENDERSHOT'S OFFICE, WITH HENDERSHOT AND BILLY
What's wrong with that?
Ain't nothin' wrong with it. 'Cept
that's also the time you came In
What are you talking about?
You bein' ob-tuse, Billy-boy. Ain't
no need for you t'be ob-tuse. smart
ole college boy like you.
He leans back and folds his hand on his paunch, he stares at BILLY.
I'm gonna tell you this just once more
boy. You git in here at 5:45 and you have
your cuppa coffee and then you dice up them
taters for home fries and you squeeze the
awange juice and you dump them last two
dish-trucks from the night before and
then maybe have you another cuppa coffee
and a little smoke. Then it's gonna be
seven oíclock an you can punch in aní
go to work. You--
A BUZZER sounds on HENDERSHOT'S intercom, he leans over and thumbs
INT. THE FUEL AREA OFFICE
STEVE GAYTON is bent over the desk, speaking into the intercom, He
looks freaked out. Behind him, JOE Is bending over DUNCAN, who lies on
a cot with his hands to his face.
It's Steve Gayton, Mr. Hendershot,
Duncan Kellerís had an accident.
Oh, shitsky! What happened to him?
INT. THE FUEL OFFICE, WITH STEVE
Got diesel in his eyes. I'll be
damned if I know how.
INT. HENDERSHOT'S OFFICE
Is that all? Flush his eyes
and leave me alone! I got me
some talkin' to do in here!
He flicks off the intercom and looks back at BILL
I got to wipe everyone's ass around
here. Its a shitty job, but I reckon
somebody's got to do it, ainít that a
You want me to work nine hours a day
and clock for eight.
Now I know you been to college!
I donít think so, Mr. Hendershot.
Not this kid.
He stands up, HENDERSHOT taps the red star in the corner of BILL'S
time card. He's still smiling, but there is an ugly cast to it now.
You know what this star means, donít you?
You ainít that ob-tuse, are you? On parole,
boy! Your ass either b'longs to me or it b'longs
to the state of North Carolina! You either spend
forty-five hours hours a week dippin' dishes and
fryin' aigs and get pald for forty, or YOU
spend sixty a week cuttin' brush along the
highways aní byways in the hot sun and you
don't get paid a cent! Now what you think?
BILL looks like he's going to walk out just the same.
Go on. You walk out that door and I pick
up this phone and call your parole officer
This is one helluva racket, isn't it?
You think we've reached an
understandin' here, college boy?
I guess maybe we have.
Well that's fahn! Put this back
for me on your way by, would you?
He slides BILL'S time-card across the desk. After a moment BILL
takes it and leaves, slamming the door. HENDERSHOT doesn't mind; he