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February 24, 2006
Brokeback QuailhuntSCENE: Two friends, DICK CHENEY and HENRY WHITTINGTON, share a tent in a marsh. A fire burns as they eat pork and beans out of cans. DICK: Well, that was a good meal. HENRY: That's the most words you've said since we've been out here. DICK: I don't talk much. (tosses bean can aside) Well, guess I better get back to the quail-blind. Want to wake up early to get the early bird. HENRY: Don't go tonight. It's going to storm. Spend the night in the tent. DICK: The tent? HENRY: Sure. It sleeps two. DICK looks conflicted. INT. TENT -- NIGHT Dick and Henry sleep in seperate sleeping bags. HENRY: Damn, this cold air is making my elbows hurt. Old football injury. DICK: I can put some Tiger Balm on it. Henry extends his arm. Dick begins massaging in the hot salve. They look meaningfully into each other's eyes. Then Dick takes out a 28 guage shotgun and shoots Henry in the face. They both fall back into their sleeping bags, spent. And Henry, bleeding profusely from the face and neck. DICK: No one can know about this thing of ours. HENRY: Yeah, no one. They wouldn't understand. No one can know... except the emergency room team at the hospital. I think some birdshot just slipped into my carotid artery. It's on the way to my heart. I may have a minor atrial fibrilation. DICK: A special friendship'll do that. ... SCENE: After parting ways for some time, Dick and Henry depart from their wives to meet again in a quail marsh. The friends shake hands, happy to see each other again. Then they hug, manfully, but passionately. Then Dick takes out a shotgun and shoots Henry in the hip. Dick and Henry both collapse into the marsh grass. Dick, because he's spent from the overpowering emotion; Henry, because his hip is badly wounded and he's lost 90% of the blood-flow to his right leg. HENRY: Dick... do you think it's possible that one day we'll come out here, be "special friends" together, with no cares and no worries... and you won't shoot me with your shotgun? DICK: Maybe. One day. When the world is ready to understand this thing of ours. HENRY: When do you think that will be, Dick? DICK: Ever see Blade Runner? HENRY: Yeah. DICK: Sometime after that. HENRY: I can't wait. Henry passes out from shock. Dick cradles his head. ... SCENE: Henry is arguing with his wife about another upcoming quail hunt. HENRY: We're just friends! That's all it is! WIFE: I looked at your gun the last time you got back! It hadn't even been fired! HENRY: I never got a chance to fire it. Dick shot me within ten minutes of getting there. I spent the weekend in the ER. WIFE: I think it's just sick... you spending all this time with your "friend," him shooting you. It's... not proper. HENRY: You don't understand. You can't understand! Henry leaves in a huff. As he exits the front door, a tear flows from one eye. And then a steel birdshot flows out, expelled by his tear duct. He wipes the birdshot away. ... SCENE: Henry and Dick sit before a fire, beside a calm river. Dick chews on beef jerky; Henry uses tweezers to pluck birdshot out of his ass. DICK: This jerky is delicious. HENRY: It sure is. It's the best in Texas. DICK: Mmmmm. HENRY: You can say that again. (pause) Dick... I hate to ask again, but... How long you think it's going to be before you stop shooting me in the face and buttocks? DICK: If you can't fix it, you gotta stand it. HENRY: Yeah, you keep saying that. But, see, we can fix it. You can just stop shooting me. It's not difficult. You just stop pointing a shotgun at me and blasting away pieces of my body. DICK: There ain't no reins on this thing we got goin' here. HENRY: See, again, I don't even know what that means. I just think we should, A, tell the world about our special friendship, and B, try to avoid you spraying birdshot into me every time we get together. DICK: The world wouldn't accept that, Henry. HENRY: Well let's focus on "B." I'm pretty sure they'd accept that. DICK: Two guys... going off into a marsh... neither one of them coming back with a gunshot wound. It just wouldn't look right. People would get to talkin'. Engagin' in all sorts of rumor and innuendo. HENRY: I don't know if I agree. I think the world is a-changin', Dick. DICK: It hasn't changed that much. If you don't come back with a decent sized shotgun wound on you, what are people gonna think we were a-doin' out here? HENRY: I don't know. Talking. Hunting. Guy stuff. DICK: That's just crazy-talk, Henry. We both know what they'd say. Dick goes back to the tent and comes back a moment later. HENRY: You got the beans? DICK: Yeahhhh, I done got 'em. HENRY: Those aren't beans. That's a 28 guage shotgun. DICK: Are you sure? HENRY: I've come to know its silhouette pretty damn good. DICK: I'm almost positive these are beans. Let me check the label. The shotgun BLASTS, blowing off bits of Henry's scalp. DICK: Something wrong with these beans. They've got a hair-trigger or something. Henry smiles with the warmth of friendship, and also because he's delirious from a concussion and bleeding headwound. HENRY: I've been thinkin'... maybe we should stop gettin' together for quail hunts. Maybe we should try fishin'. DICK: Fishin'? Fishin's for homos. I ain't no homo, Henry. HENRY: I know that. But maybe we could just try. DICK: If it's important to you. HENRY: I think it is. Could you put a tournequet around my neck? I think I'm about to pass out. Dick smiles and and begins strangling Henry with a rope. ...
DICK: I told you fishin' wouldn't be no better. HENRY: It would have been... it was going so well. And then you shot me again. DICK: Had to. That trout you pulled out of the lake was fixin' to bite you somethin' ferocious. Had to take him out before he got to you. HENRY: You missed the fish entirely. DICK: True, but the shotgun blast kinda stunned him, right before he fell back into the water. He didn't bite you. HENRY: He bit me. A piece of my abdominal muscle went floatin' in the lake, and I saw him eat it. DICK: That son of a bitch...! I won't let him get away with that! (he grabs his shotgun) HENRY: Please, put the gun down. DICK: But the fish...! That son of a bitch ate part of my friend! HENRY: Dick, please, don't. Put the gun down. You're not going to shoot the fish. I don't even think you're going to pretend to aim at him. You're just going to point the gun directly at me and shoot me. Dick smiles with overpowering affection. DICK: You know me so well. HENRY: Why aren't you putting the gun down, Dick? Dick pulls the trigger.
Henry has once again been shot by Dick. Dick visits him in the hospital. DICK: I'm sorry, Henry. But do you see now? You see how people have set their tongues a-waggin'? The media won't stop slandering us. I told you folks'd never accept this special friendship of ours. HENRY: Again, I hate to be Johnny One-Note, but I don't think it's the friendship they mind. I think it's the repeated shotgun-maimings. Dick sadly shakes his head. DICK: You've always been so naive, Henry. (smiling) I brought you a present. HENRY: This present... seems to be about three and a half feet long. And 28 guage wide. Dick unwraps the gift. HENRY: Nurse...! Dick moves the call-nurse button away from his friend's hand. DICK: Can't have the nurse in here, Henry. She'd never understand this special thing we got goin'. HENRY: I think I'm about done with this special thing. DICK: I wish I could quit you. I mean, I wish I could quit shooting you. HENRY: NURSE...!!! Dick fires the gun. Brokeback Parody Update: Brokeback Trek, Brokeback Star Wars, Brokeback Top Gun (which, you know, was already 75% Brokeback)... plus Brokeback He-Man and Skeletor. All over at Rightwingsparkle, the web's biggest Brokeback fan. | Recent Comments
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