jordan

NAPOLEON DYNAMITE IS HOTT

anyway, here is the next installment to "Ashley Land" cos i know at least one person out there is lovin it....if yall don't know what it is and want to read more, it's all here, just scroll down and read up

INT. TRUCK STOP EARLY MORNING
A bearded man is sitting at the counter of a truck stop's diner, sipping coffee. A plate of untouched eggs sets before him. A waitress has her back turned to him, making a fresh pot of coffee. The bearded man is reading a newspaper.
FRANK: Somein' else, ain't it? What happened to those kids in them woods.
MARGO (Shaking her head): It's a terrible world. I just pray every night...
Margo refills Frank's coffee cup.
FRANK: Well, I know it don't sound right or nuttin', but at least only one of 'em died.
MARGO: Just thank the good Lord they got that man. Prison outbreaks...how those happen anyway? Said he's all senile and stuff, fought in Vietnam, everything
Frank grunts
MARGO: Messed up
OVER BLACK:
The sound of a truck's blaring horn.
INT. HIGH SCHOOL HALLWAY AFTERNOON
1992
Kid is at his locker, entering the combination on his lock. He's wearing a jean jacket and a baggy pair of Stussy pants. His hair hangs in his face as always. A redheaded girl walks over to him. She's wearing a blood-red windbreaker and chewing gum rather obnoxiously. She leans her head against Kid's locker, looking down at him.
GRETCHEN: Hey.
KID: Hey.
GRETCHEN (Turning so her back's against his locker and she's looking out into the hall, pretending she's only half-interested in him): Going to that rave this weekend? (Looks down at her fingernails, pops a bubble of gum).
KID (Shoving some books into his locker, answers unenthusiastically): Sure, whatever.
GRETCHEN: You should meet me in the parking lot after school. I got the Dee-Lite CD, we could drive to the park...just fuckin hang out.
KID: Sure, whatever. (Slams his locker shut and walks off)
Gretchen watches him for a second as he walks down the hallway, rolls her eyes and walks off in the opposite direction.
EXT. PICNIC TABLES ON SCHOOL GROUND DAY
Kid rushes over to a picnic table, his energy picking up when he sees a girl sitting on the table, smoking a cigarette, not caring if she gets caught. Her cheeks are dotted with freckles, her hair is long in the back with bangs cut an uneven mess. She has on a ton of eyeliner but no other makeup. Kid jumps up on the table and slaps her playfully on her back.
KID: Josie! (Leans in and kisses her on the cheek): What's up, babe?
JOSIE (Smiles tenderly): Nuttin'. I've been waitin' on your ass.
KID: One of these days (Nods toward the cigarette in her hand) You're gonna get caught.
JOSIE (Ashing on the ground): So?
Kid clamps his hand down on Josie's knee and they exchange a sloppy kiss that informs us that they're long passed first dates.
KID (Finished kissing): You wanna go?
Josie nods and grabs her denim purse, slinging it over her shoulder and jumping off the table. Josie is wearing dark blue jeans and black chucks. She tosses her cigarette on the grass. A few preppy kids in pink Liz Claiborne sweaters stare at her, shaking their heads.
Kid and Josie walk across the parking lot. Gretchen is standing by Kid's car. Her face hardens when she sees Kid with Josie. Kid sticks the key in the lock without looking up at Gretchen.
KID: What's up, Gretch?
GRETCHEN (Turns around, shrugs looking down at the gravel): I thought we were gonna hang out.
KID: Some other time.
Gretchen glares at Kid, standing by the passenger side door.
KID (Looking up at her): Could you move so Josie can get in?
Gretchen let's out a hateful sigh and walks off, sticking her middle finger up as she leaves. Josie and Kid settle inside the car. She immediately pops open the glove compartment.
JOSIE: Got any Soundgarden?
KID: There's a mix tape in there, I think it's got some Soundgarden on it. (Pauses with his hand on the shifter) So, where do you wanna go? You need me to take you to therapy?
JOSIE (Frowns, finding the tape): Therapy? No (Let's out a little laugh, still frowning) I don't go anymore.
KID (Looking concerned): Its cause of Kip, ain't it? He told you it was stupid so you just stopped going.
JOSIE (Shoving the tape in): Look, I just don't need to go no more. No one needs to tell me it's stupid.
KID: You were getting help, Josie...
JOSIE (Incredibly moody): Just shut up and drive, please.
They drive in silence. McDonalds, churches and car dealerships pass by their windows.
JOSIE: We should go to the mall; you wanna go to the mall?
KID: Sure, if that'll make you feel better.
JOSIE (Pulls some hair behind her ear and smiles a little): Yeah, it would. I want to get my ears pierced.
KID (Dismayed): You don't have your ears pierced?
Josie shakes her head, looking at Kid sweetly.
KID: Oh, my God, I'da never thought. Dang, Josie McNichols don't have her ears pierced.
Josie looks at Kid, warningly but teasingly, adjusting her high heel shoe.
JOSIE: I took the pregnancy test yesterday, I know it's on your mind but you're too afraid to ask. Well, you can breathe easy now, because there ain't nuttin in here (pats her belly) but whatever that nasty stuff was they served in the cafeteria today.
Kid looks enormously relieved. They are held up by a train. Kid lifts his hand and pinches Josie's ear, pulling her toward him a little, playfully. He looks closely at her ear.
KID: Wow, so it is true.
Josie laughs a little, then her face turns grim, and she swats his hand away. They pull into the mall's lot.
INT. TEENYBOPPER ACCESSORY STORE DAY
Josie sits in a chair next to the counter. A clerk with braids and a cheap nose ring stands beside her. Kid waits near the open space where the store spills out into the mall's eatery. A bunch of kids are screaming inside the store, going crazy over an Nsync handbag. The clerk holds something similar to a stapler and pinches Josie's left ear with it.
JOSIE: Ouch!
CLERK: Sorry. (Sarcastically) It's supposed to tickle. You want the other one done, too?
JOSIE (Looking out at Kid): I don't know, let me ask my boyfriend. Hey! Kid, baby, (Eyes wide, searching for advice) should I get both done?
KID: I don't know, Josie, do you want both done?
Josie's face turns down into a frown and she gets off the chair.
JOSIE: No, I'm done.
Josie pays the clerk and walks over to Kid.
JOSIE: Let's go. I want to go home.
KID: But...I thought we were going to go see a movie.
JOSIE: I don't wanna see a stupid movie, I wanna go home. You don't seem to be into this.
KID: Butwhat? We've been planning to see this film for, like, weeks. You love Drew...
JOSIE: I want to go home, Kid, and if you don't fucking take me, I'll find someone who will!
People eating near the Chic-Fe-La look over at Josie. Kid tries desperately to calm her down.
KID: Okay, fine, I'll take you home. Let's go.
FADE OUT on them walking down the hallway, under a GOING OUT OF BUSINESS EVERYTHING MUST GO sign.
INT. CAFETERIA DAY
A table of kids stare at Kid when he walks in. He looks the cafeteria over for a minute. A fat kid points at Kid and whispers to his friend and they both start giggling. Kid rolls his eyes and walks to the back of the cafeteria where a girl with bad acne and frizzy red hair sits alone.
KID: You don't care if I sit here, do you?
The girl looks at him and shrugs. She adjusts her glasses and continues to stare at him.
IRENE: You know, you don't have to keep asking me if you can sit here. You do it everyday and I'm never gonna say, 'no.'
KID (Nodding): Thanks.
IRENE: You ever eat?
KID (Sighs): Every once in a while.
IRENE: Is it cause you ain't got money or cos the food stinks. Or is it (pushes her glasses up) cos you like looking like a corpse?
KID (Shrugs): I don't like to eat in public. It freaks me out.
Irene frowns for a minute at Kid's response then she seems to accept it.
IRENE: Well, it's not that bad, just in case you're wondering. Normally the mashed potatoes are runny but today they're a bit fluffy, as if someone actually put some work into it, and the apples aren't sinkin in with all those brown bruises they normally have.
KID (Taps his fist on the table, agitated) Thanks.
IRENE (Taking a big bite out of her apple): You gonna make something for science fair?
KID (Staring out the window): I don't think so, Irene.
IRENE: You should. You musta not heard about the prize, yet.
KID (Looks at her): What is it? (Sarcastic, grim)A field trip to go cow tippin'?
IRENE (Cracks a smile): No, silly bird. Its two tickets to go on a cruise in the Mediterranean.
KID: Is not.
IRENE: Is to. It's just for seniors, though. Ain't for juniors, I don't know what juniors get. But you're a senior, you should go for it.
KID: I don't know, Irene. Cruises are gay and people already call me Kid Willy. I don't need to be no gayer than that.
Kid looks at her matter-of-factly. His hair parted in the middle, his eyes lined with eyeliner, his lips chapped. He licks them and looks away for a second.
IRENE: Why does everyone pick on you so much, and then why you just let it happen? You're a senior, Kid, you could beat their asses.
KID: Maybe I deserve it, though, cause I'm a pussy. I've never done anything right or even worthwhile.
IRENE (Shakes her head and looks at her apple, not buying it): You're not a pussy, Kid.
KID: I am, too.
Kid stands up, lifts his chair and throws it up against the table. Irene jumps back in her chair, caught by surprise. Kid walks out of the cafeteria.
FADE OUT.
INT. SCHOOL LIBRARY DAY
A beautiful, sophisticated woman in her late forties sits behind her desk in the school library. She's dressed in sheer stockings and a beige skirt and blouse with a ruffled collar. She's wearing reading glasses and writing something down with a fancy pen. Kid is hiding behind a column in the library, trying to sneak a peek at her. She finally looks up, sees him again, and drops her pen.
MRS. SHREWSBERRY: Can I help you with something? Maybe find you a bigger column that would actually hide all of you?
Kid places his hands on either side of the column and looks out at her, ashamed.
MRS. S.: Can't be that hard, seeing how you're practically skin and bones. (Leans her head some since Kid isn't coming out of hiding) Why don't you come and sit down?
Kid sheepishly walks around the column and runs a finger under his nose. Mrs. S. offers her hand.
MRS. S.: I'm Mrs. Shrewsberry, the new guidance counselor. A lot of people just call me Mrs. S.
KID: Just call me Kid.
MRS. S.: Kid, is that really your name?
KID (Standing behind a chair): Yup.
Mrs. S.'s eyes are warm and hazel, the color of scotch on ice. She takes her glasses off and squints up at him.
MRS. SHREWSBERRY: Would you like to sit down?
Kid pulls a chair up and sits rather sloppily and doesn't take his eyes off of the woman in front of him.
KID: Where you from, anyway, cos you don't sound like you're from around here?
MRS. SHREWSBERRY: Where does it sound like I'm from?
KID: Mid-West, somein' like that. (Sits back and sighs, thumps his knuckles on the table) Some place nice. You don't sound like a dumb hick, that's for sure.
MRS. SHREWSBERRY: Well, who sounds like a dumb hick?
Kid holds up a thumb and points it to his chest, pressing his lips together in a sort of anguish shyness.
MRS. SHREWSBERRY: Now, that's not true. I would have never thought you were dumb. (Eyes the upstairs balcony) Not with all those girls that were following you around earlier.
KID: Girls? What girls? You mean Bloody Burger and Little Fish?
MRS. SHREWSBERRY (Eyes wide): Pardon?
KID: Sorry, that's just what people call them, it ain't nice.
MRS. SHREWSBERRY: No, it's not nice. High school isn't nice, sometimes. What year are you?
KID: Senior.
MRS. SHREWSBERRY (Delighted); Well, you haven't got too far to go, now do you? Any plans after high school?
KID: Oh, sure, I plan on doing some light theft here in Alabama and then moving on to more professional high crimes, once, you know, I feel that I have the proper education and all.
MRS. S.: I certainly hope that's sarcasm.
KID (Voice drops to realism): I'm not going to college. I don't want to. High School is full of enough brats, because, I can't afford to go, anyway, even if I was wantin' to.
MRS. SHREWSBERRY: Don't you have a last name to go with your first name?
KID: Kid Williams. The kids like to pick on me a lot (Pulls on earlobe and looks away from Mrs. Shrewsberry) They like to call me Kid Willy.
MRS. SHREWSBERRY (Smiling understandably): Kids will do that. It's a way to keep the attention away from them, that kind of behavior is brought on by low self-esteem. As long as someone is pointing out what he or she perceives as strange about someone else, they know the spotlight is not on them. That's all that is.
KID: That and someone started a rumor that I had a whale of a penis (suddenly realizes what an awkward thing to say, blushes) sorry. (mumbles) it's not just a rumor, though...
MRS. S. (Clearing her throat): Kid, perhaps you should just focus on getting though these next few months and not worry too much on what others think.
KID: You don't know me, do you? You don't know anything 'bout what happened in those woods?
Her facial expression changes, a revelation is taking place. Kid can tell she's freaked out.
MRS. SHREWSBERRY: Why don't we go into my office? (Gathering her things) I think a class will be coming in here shortly.
KID: (Quickly standing up) Its okay, I have to go. I have this...thing to go to.
MRS. SHREWSBERRY (Holding her papers in her arms): Well I'd like to schedule an appointment with you.
KID: Its okay, it's not necessary. (With fake confidence) It's cool.
Kid hustles out of the library, swinging the door open, nearly hitting someone on the way in.
EXT. RURAL ROAD IN ALABAMA NIGHTTIME
Kid and Josie are walking to a gas station. The road they walk down looks desolate, but there are a few trailer homes here and there, which aren't at first more noticeable than rocks, but once they're recognized, they become total eyesores. Kid seems undeniably happy to be with Josie. He jumps up and presses his hands on her shoulders. Her face bends slightly into a grin.
KID: It's so cool that you're going to this rave with me. I know how you hate that kinda music and all.
Josie's wearing a faded jean jacket. Her hair is cut differently, her bangs are shorter and parted to the side. She eyes him intensely.
JOSIE: Someone's gettin' us some stuff, right, I don't wanna go through the whole night without some stuff.
KID: Baby, yes. I know this kid, Lokey, we should definitely be able to get some stuff from him.
Kid and Josie walk across the parking lot of a corner store. The inside of the store is lit up like a ball of white light in the filthy and otherwise poorly lit street. The corner store is like a spaceship considering the activity going on elsewhere. There's a light blue truck in the self-serve spot exploding with country music. A man with his jeans pulled up almost to his chest, wrapped securely in a brown leather belt, salutes Josie as she walks by him. Josie grins as if she's flattered.
KID (Opening the door for Josie): You like that kind of attention?
JOSIE: Oh, Kid, he didn't mean no harm. Don't go gettin' all jealous.
Josie grabs three bags of Rainbow Sweets Toys and Joys and takes them to the front counter. Inside each one is a necklace of sweet tarts, a glow in the dark ring that looks like chunky crystal but is actually just something that gets sticky and dissolves on a person's tongue, a toy racecar, and couple of junior mints. She also grabs an energy drink and something that looks like breath mints that are meant to keep a person up all night long.
JOSIE (Turning and smiling at Kid, who's staring out at the parking lot looking not so thrilled): This should do it, don't you think?
KID (Points to the redneck by the truck): See, that's why you have to learn to ignore people, Josie.
The redneck is holding the gas pump in front of his crotch and thrusting repeatedly, looking in at Josie, laughing the whole time. Josie looks out at him, then lowers her head and giggles.
Kid looks disgusted as he follows his giddy girlfriend back out to their car. Josie tries to rip the plastic bag open with her teeth, eyes the redneck by his truck. He pushes out a gravely laugh and starts to unlock the door to his truck.
REDNECK: You take care now, little darlin'.
JOSIE (Grinning): You, too.
Kid and Josie get in his car and drive off.
Conversation while driving:
JOSIE: You don't have to be like that, you know; get all mad and stuff at that guy. Not a whole lot of men notice me, you know, especially when I'm with Ashley.
KID (Looking surprised, eager): You see Ashley? How is she?
JOSIE: Oh, she's fine (Dipping her fingers into her candy bag) You ain't gotta worry about her. Yeah, she pulled through.
Kid nods and keeps his eyes on the road.
JOSIE (Holding up her energy drink): Want some of this?
Kid shakes his head and sits back a little, looking frazzled.
KID (Narrows his eyes and looks down at Josie): Does she ever, you know, talk about me?
JOSIE: Who? (Laughs as if to say, "I think not,") Ashley? No, hon, she don't talk about you.
Josie pops open the glove compartment and starts going through the junk inside. She lets a bunch of papers fall out to the floor. Kid eyes them, starting to grow impatient.
KID: Could you pick those up?
JOSIE: Why? They're just papers.
KID: No, they're not just papers. Some of its bills and stuff, car payments and stuff like that.
JOSIE: Kid, you don't pay for your own car, now, cut the bullshit.
KID: I do, too. My mom ain't got no job and my dad's a janitor. Our house ain't made of gold.
JOSIE: No one's isso you mean you pay for this car just from what you make as an usher at the movie theatre?
KID (Sighs, closing his eyes for a second): Just please pick up the papers and put them back in the glove compartment.
JOSIE: Okay, give me a second, geez. I was just trying to find a tape to play, but you don't seem like you have anything.
KID: There's already something in the tape deck.
JOSIE: Let's play that, then.
Josie pushes play and sits back in her chair, straightening her jean jacket. The tape is a bad recording of someone playing a sad song on an acoustic guitar. A harsh whisper becomes a groveling howl. The boy singing sad lyrics: The lights are still against the cold street, you lie under a bag, you rest your eyes, you're still not home, give up the search, surrender light to someone who'd rather be alone, you put your hand in mine and say it's warm, but it's just a cold world
Josie stops the tape abruptly.
JOSIE: My God, that was depressing. (Then adds, like she's someone else joining in) And creepy, too, what was that about, anyway?
She rips the tape out and drops it on the floor.
KID: Pick that up; don't throw it on the floor.
Josie bends over, letting it be known by her sigh that she doesn't see it worth the trouble, but she puts the tape in the glove compartment.
JOSIE: What was it anyway?
KID: Me.
When Josie's face becomes bewildered, Kid tries to become less upset.
KID: I was just messing around one day down in the basement. You're right, it is depressing; certainly not something you'd want to hear on the way to a rave.
JOSIE: Kip taught me how to rap, well sorta, listen to this
Josie presses her hands together over her lips and starts making record scratching noises and comes up with little rhymes in between: I said a-one, a-two, a-three, a-four, show me what you made of, bitch, shake that ass on the dance floor, show me you not made of sticks, you got blood, willin' to give, shake that shit on the dance floor, one time ain't good enough, two time nearly get it up, shake it harder on the dance floor, shake that shit till there ain't no more!
Josie, extremely proud of herself, claps her hands and looks at Kid for approval.
Kid tries hard to muster up a smile for Josie.
KID: That was great.
His tone is flat; deadpan. He looks back at the street in front of him, suddenly dreading the long night ahead of him.
JOSIE: Yeah, Kip is always listenin' to N.W.A. and shit down in his basement (pops an energy pill)
KID: You two sure do hang out a lot.
Awkward silence
JOSIE (Bouncing around with the energy of a child): I want coke, you think Lokey will have some coke?
KID: Yeah, he's like the drugstore of bad stuff.
Josie starts fiddling with the radio dial. The order of what comes through the speakers is this: Static, horrible pop song, static. Josie goes back to the horrible pop song and starts snapping her fingers, singing along even though she doesn't know the words very well: All that she wants is another baby, ye-eah.
FADE OUT.