Flying Below Radar
AKA: THE GREAT ENORMO RACE (REST STOP 7B)
The big set-up and the disappointing resolve.
Part 3: Evening of the 2nd Day
A group of skater kids are hanging out at the arcade, as Monk mills about a guy is getting a pretzel from Casey. Just then the mall doors burst open and three guys come running in. The guy getting the pretzel drops it and runs to Repo Records. They all disappear in to the record store. Out comes a couple guys from the store very calm and order a coffee from Casey. Within the record store there is screams and yelling, but they remain calm.
Guy#1: Hey, how’s the weather?
Casey: Hot
Guy#2: You doin’ anything?
Casey: Yea, working. That’s $4.50
Guy#2: Here. If you weren’t doing anything
Guy #1 nudges him and shakes his head. Guy#2 nods.
Guy#1: Maybe next time.
They walk back into Repo. After they’re out of sight Casey waves down Monk.
Casey: Monk. Monk. Get over here.
Monk ambles over
Monk: I got one, how are you on “Hong Kong Phooey” trivia?
Casey: What? Is this the striped-cat-named-Spot question again? (Waves off conversation) No time for that, Monk. Something really weird is going on around here.
Monk: Your telling me, I got skater kids in there playing skee-ball
Casey: No, you oaf. Dudes are running in and out of here (she motions head without looking over) into the record store.
Monk: Dudes?
Casey: Yes, dudes. Guys. Dudes. Men. Creepy guys, too, Bill Gates meets the Bandit. They’re wearing blue racing windbreakers that look like old Members Only jackets. It’s like a Skippy Handleman convention, only dorkier.
Monk: Family Ties Skippy?
Casey: Monk, I think something weird’s going on.
Into the mall comes another running figure, they spot him it’s Bubba. When Bubba sees them looking his way, he stops running but continues to walk quickly. They follow him as he walks in.
Monk: Bubba. (Monk nods towards Bubba, he absently returns the nod. Bubba walks around and peers in the door of Repo. He walks back towards the arcade, again a quick smile and disappears into the arcade with his cell phone.)
Monk: (To Casey) He doesn’t look too cheery, either.
Casey: Look Monk, My shifts just about over. Except for these dudes nobody’s coming in. I say we close up and leave.
Monk: (Now a little more concerned) Yea, I’m going out tonight.
Casey: (Cleaning up, emptying the pots and pretzel holder) Yea, where to?
Monk: Just my bud’s, heading out.
Casey: Ah, you’re going down to AC and getting s**t faced. Guess we won’t be seeing you in the morning.
Monk: Nobody will be seeing me in the morning. I’m off tomorrow. Can finally stay out late.
Casey: You’re out late every night. You can’t tell me most morning’s you’re not staggering in here with no sleep. Hell sometimes I doubt that you’ve passed from drunk to hangover yet.
Monk: We do get in here early, though.
Casey: Y ou know I ended up in this dead end because I got tired of helping a-holes dump s**t on unsuspecting people. You ended up here because it was a soft place to land.
Monk: No landing dear, because I never took off. Fly below radar and you don’t get hurt.
Casey: Looking at you and I realize that I don’t have to worry about sinking any lower. Looking at Bubba and I start to worry about my well-being.
She points over towards Bubba, who averts his glance to them when they look. He’s in an obviously emotional phone call.
Monk: Yea, Skate boys are gone, I’m thinking about locking up. I’ll tell Sid we had a fire drill or something.
Monk walks over to the door. Out of the record store a couple guys go running by holding a large duffle bag. Bubba ducks back to avoid them. They leave. Bubba approaches Monk.
Bubba:( Worried) Dude, you got any plans.
Monk: Listen if one more guy tries to take me dinner and dancing, no means no, Bub. My body my choice.
Bubba: Not that man, come here (he directs Monk back over towards Casey). Youse guys might not be in the best of all places here. Here right now.
Casey: Yea, you’re telling me. But Monk-man here thinks we’re flying below radar.
Bubba: No not your lives, s**t anyone knows you’ve taken the last train to Loserville long time ago. I’m talking safety issue.
Monk: Does this have anything to do with the bomb squads running in and out of here all day long?
Bubba: Listen I can’t tell you much but....
Casey: (Frustrated) Oh we’ve heard that story before. Nobody can tell us anything. I got vans running up an don the parking lot trying to jump Monk, weirdoes dressed like a UN mixer: Cowboys and Foreigners, Berets, and...and ...and all we get is ‘sorry can’t tell you much.’ For a s**t-hole little Shopping Center we certainly are getting our share of lunatic traffic.
Bubba: Up until now (to Casey) you’re lack of curiosity and (to Monk) your ability to walk through life without noticing your pants are on fire, has been your greatest asset. It would not be in your best interest to change that, now.
Casey: (Leans in) You a Fed?
Bubba: (Dumbfounded) No....
Monk: CIA?
Bubba: No.... listen, if we can just get to...
Casey: Hey, hey. (Somber, mock-serious tone) G-man?
Bubba: (Annoyed) No, for chrissakes get you head out of the X-Files. (Calmer, confidentially) Listen, you guys are probably aware of the Internet.
Monk/Casey:(Simultaneously) The Matrix?!
Monk: Look, I can do my Matrix moves (does some poor slo-mo Keanu impressions)
Bubba: Focus. Your safety, maybe your well-being, is in danger. Can I assume by your response that you don’t get on the net much?
They shake their heads.
Bubba: (To Casey) Close up sweetie. Lock up what you have to....
Casey: (Holds up key) Done and done.
They begin walking out of the mall.
Bubba: The Internet has many fascinating options. One of them is the ability to follow other people do reckless things. You guys ever hear of the Great Enormo Race?
Monk: Some guy mentioned it to me yesterday, but I thought he was just hitting on me.
Bubba: (Laughs) Well there are races, games, events that go on, have gone on for years, below the public’s eye. Tour de France? Everybody knows about that, but there’s a Cross-Euro bike race, Le Tangueney, that you’ll never hear about. Guys are fierce, but it’s out of view. (Points to Monk) Below radar as you like to say.
They reach an old van in the parking lot. Bubba opens a side door.
Bubba: Get in (he motions to them)
Casey: Nah, I got a ride.
Bubba: What that blue Omni over my shoulder about 50 feet. (Without looking)
Casey: (Peers) Yea...
Bubba: (Again, facing the other way) There are two guys in a Chrysler Concorde next to it that have instructions to apprehend the person who enters it. Luckily they do not know what you look like. Though they’re probably on the phone right now getting confirmation that this is you.
The door to the mall opens, a few men appear
Bubba: Oops, too late. ‘Nuff chitchat. We gotta go.
Forces them both into the van Men start running towards them. As he races out of the parking lot they hear some pops.
Monk: Did you hear that? Damn near sounded like gunshots.
Bubba: Damn near? Check the back window.
They look; there is a bullet hole through the window.
Monk: F**k!
Casey: What is this s**t Bubba? You’re like the poster boy for midlife burnout, why we suddenly the Dukes of Hazzard?
Bubba: Here’s the deal. There’s a contest going on right now. Well, it’s a race and it never really ends, but right now one of the stages of the race is ending right here. In this town.
Monk: What’s the race?
Bubba: The (frustrated) The Enormo! Don’t you listen! (Calms). It’s underground, man. It ain’t on Sportscenter. But it is a favorite of the ‘net fiends and they don’t even know where for sure it’s going on they just hear the updates on the websites.
Pauses looks back at them, they are expressionless
Bubba: Well anyway I’ll save you the high-level mumbo, but the cut to the chase is that I’m a deliveryman for one of the racers, and my job right now is to deliver you two.
Monk: To our death!!
Bubba: What?
Casey: Monk, what’s your deal?
Monk: Casey, man, it all makes sense; the gun shots, the weirdoes, the vans. Dude here is double agent, we just got in the car with the guy who’s gonna kill us. F**k!
Monk tries to work the door but it’s not opening. Bubba goes down a side road and brings the van to a halt.
Bubba: (Angry) listen, idiot. Nobody’s trying to kill you. Right now you guys are...(he searches for the right words) you know how college kids are always stealing pink flamingoes from peoples’ front lawns as part of some fraternity scavenger hunt? Well, you guys are the pink flamingoes.
Casey: Yea, but Bubba, nobody fires a gun at the pink flamingoes.
Bubba: (Calmer) No, I’ll be honest with you, if somebody “wins” youse guys, then obviously, somebody else loses. And that somebody else will do what it takes to stop you from getting to their rival.
Monk: That would still seem to put us in the cross hairs.
Bubba: No. (starts the car up again and continues driving) you don’t know who the rivals are. You don’t know anything. The person in the cross hairs is me.
Casey: Ok Bubba, but why?
Bubba: What?
Casey: I‘ll accept that we’re pawns, and I’ve seen enough weird stuff at work to know that something is happening. The guys last night, slow cars, and all. I expect that stuff in a dead-end town. Hell, it doesn’t surprise me coming from T. But why are you involved? You seem to have stability.
Bubba: Yea stability is fine. You know when I was twenty-one I was getting engaged, me and this girl, we went to college together and she was a year behind me so one day I went for a drive, and I happened to pass through four states in about three hours. Amazing, I thought. Then another state and I thought wow, how long would it take to pass through all 48 contiguous? So, without going back home, I did it. Also did all seven Canadian Provinces. Hit Mexico, but couldn’t figure out from the map if they had states or whatever, so I just spent a couple nights in Tijuana. Suffice to say by the time I got back, the engagement was over. Did get married, had a kid, have a girlfriend now, but, you know....
Casey: So you’re an over-the-hill thrill seeker.
Bubba: I’ll accept either description on it’s own, but never together.
Casey: So, level, what are we up against.
Bubba: Not much for you guys, but these racers are fierce. Each racer has a crew, delivery guys like me, we pick up supplies, scouts, that check out the area. Things get nasty, like the mafia. If you’re a spectator, you’re a spectator. If you make fun of somebody, somebody may make fun of you. If you hit somebody, you may get hit. Kill somebody, may get killed.
Turns and looks, the talk of killing surprises Casey and Monk
Bubba: Oh, yea, we will kill our own. It’s part of the reason we’re in it. But we have rules, too. (Notices the scared look on her face) Don’t worry, though, this stage ends tonight. Here, in Jersey.
Monk: What’s Repo got to do with it?
Bubba: Listen I’m all for telling you guys what you need to know but that ain’t one of the things. Repo’s a pivotal stop; let’s keep it at that.
They drive a little longer. Bubba makes several calls on his cell phone. Off the phone.
Bubba: OK, here’s the deal. We gotta meet up with my racer, guy named Melk. We gotta be careful because Melk is near the finish line, and there are a lot of rivals there.
Monk: Where’s the finish line?
Bubba: Nearby.
Monk: No s**t. Where nearby? Marlton! God, it’s Marlton!
Bubba: Nearby is all you need.
Monk: Why do we have to go with you? Seems to me we are free agents.
Casey: (Offended, to Monk) Monk! Bubba’s trying to help us.
Monk: Just wondering.
Bubba: You go with me because I got you. It’s safer.
Casey: I’m with you, Bubba.
Bubba is back on the phone. The driving is frenetic with lots of back roads and sudden turns.
Monk: (To Casey, quiet) Safer, why? Is it safer with him because he’ll protect us? Or, safer because we’d have him to worry about if we weren’t with him.
Casey: Well, we need somebody to trust. Let’s see how this goes.
They ride along and get quiet when Bubba pulls up to an abandoned house, in poor semi- residential area. He does a once-around the house and is checking to see if anyone is there. Satisfied he pulls up to a remote side of the building behind a dumpster, out of view. He leaves the engine idling.
Bubba: (Turns, serious) Now, I gotta go in there. Youse guys wait here. This is where you are safe. Trust me.
(They nod. Bubba cautiously exits the van and heads to a back door near the van.)
Casey: (To Monk) Was that a gun in his jacket?
Monk: Didn’t see anything, but I’d feel more secure if I knew he had one.
(They sit crouched down in the van. Car noises revolve around them but they don’t look.)
Casey: (To Monk. They are squeezed together. She reaches into a small purse) Gum?
Monk: (Tries to smell own breath) Do I need it? More for nerves than aroma. What flavor?
Casey: Spearmint.
Monk: Sorry I’m anti-mint. I like a good juicyfruit.
Casey: Anti-mint? Don’t you brush your teeth?
Monk: Yea, but I prefer a cinnamon base.
Casey: How about chocolate chip mint?
Monk: Can’t stand it. Just overwhelms my taste buds. Any mint. Peppermint. Spearmint.
Casey: How about Christmastime? Candy canes?
Monk: They make them in fruit flavors. Cherry. Anything cherry. As a matter of fact, any candy that is red really rules the roost. Assuming it’s not mint. But red Skittles, red Jellybeans, red Mike & Ikes...
Casey: Red M&M’s?
Monk: No, there it’s just food coloring, no flavor difference. But with the sugar candies, it’s all about the red. It’s the gold standard of candy coloring. All about....
She is cut off by a couple of screams from outside. They try to silently convince each other to look up, but neither is willing. Finally Monk takes a peek. Outside there are now three cars parked in the area. At one car are two guys inside in skater gear. The other two cars are empty. Towards the street Monk can see a guy dressed in a flowing white robe standing by a tree. He does a double take on this. The van gets bumped from behind. Monk turns to the building side, there are three cowboys shaking the van up front. Monk is not spotted. He ducks back down.
Monk: (To Casey) We might have to leave, Sunshine.
Monk looks back up; the guys in the front notice the robed guy and rush toward him. As they begin to run they notice the two guys in the car. The car takes off. The Skater guys pursue the guy in the robe down the block.
Monk: Now’s the time. Let’s get out of Dodge.
They open the back door, jump out and close it behind them. They run to a tree-lined yard next to the parking lot. Once there they hide in the bush. A moment later a car pulls up along side the van. A couple cowboys get out.
Casey: They looking for us?
Monk: Maybe we should check ‘em out. Go up for bidding.
Casey: Whoa, Jesse James. Let’s just stay here out of sight.
The guys approach the van, and are frustrated when the door is locked. A guy pulls out a gun and shoots the lock, the shot ricochets, and the other guy smacks the shooter. The smacker takes out a crow bar from his coat and smashes the window, opens the lock and the other guy goes in with the gun brandished.
Monk: OK, maybe you were right on that one.
The cowboys head towards the building and go inside. Bubba jogs out with them very friendly, and looks inside. Seeing that it’s empty, he pounds the side door. He hunches to the other guys.
Casey: As much as I like Bubba, I say we scat.
Monk nods, they head through the other side of the lawn, and begin running down a back street. They run without seeming to know where they are.
Monk: (Stops winded) Where we going?
Casey: (Still jogging in place, not winded) Away from there.
Monk: We’re not in a great neighborhood, here. Maybe we should go back.
Before she could answer another car approaches, they look for a place to hide, quickly Casey darts behind a couple trashcans on the curb. The car approaches slowly, then stops next to them. Within the car, it’s T.
T: (Yells out) Yo. I saw you.
No response.
T: It’s me T, guys. Let me help you out.
Monk pops his head up, as Casey tugs on his sleeve. He approaches the car. Casey follows.
T: (Reassuring) You guys will be OK, now. Get in.
(They both get in the back)
T: I’m gonna take you to the finish line. You’ll be OK. We just need to face this thing head-on.
Casey: Where’s Bubba?
T: You’ll find out. Just...let’s say it was a wise choice not to go along with Bubba.
Monk: (To Casey, tapping his forehead) Once again the sixth sense comes through.
Casey: Yea, like you know for a fact we’re safer now?
Monk: T gives me the warm fuzzies. Bubba, could be a little odd.
T: Yea, and he was playing both sides against you. Was setting you up.
Casey: How’s that?
T: Bubba has some vast extracurricular activities. You guys were more of a means to pay debts on some other activities he had, than win a race.
T pulls up to a small remote building.
T: Stay here. I’ll be right back.
Casey: I’m getting used to that.
T is only gone for a few moments. T comes in the front and throws the lifeless body of Bubba in the passenger seat. The car starts up, careening, T begins driving. ”Just hold tight back there.” Monk motions towards Bubba.
Monk: Is that Bubba? What’s his problem?
T is silent. Casey looks towards the body, both move forward, they turn him over. From the face Bubba is clearly dead.
Casey: Oh my God!
Monk: What? (Realizes that Bubba looks bad) S**t, we gotta get a doctor!
Casey: No he’s dead! My God! He’s dead.
Monk: Oh my ...ahhhh! (Loses it. Becomes hysterical and screaming)
Casey: Monk, calm down. Bubba is dead.
Monk looks at Bubba. Begins hysterics again
T: (Driving, reckless) What? Never seen a dead guy before?
Monk is out of control, Casey considers T’s statement and looks closer, then gets sick, leans out car window and vomits. Monk continues to scream.
T: Calm the f**k down already.
Casey: (More calm) S**t he’s dead man, (considers) I feel like I should pray or something. Monk? (Tries to refocus him inside the car, he calms) Monk, calm. Monk, we should pray for him.
Monk: What, like the Our Father?
Casey: Or Hail Mary, I don’t know. What’s more appropriate?
Monk: Well, Hail Mary, with the whole ‘hour of our death’ thing.
Casey: Yea, yea, we should...(thinks) F**k.... um...Hail Mary fulla grace... how the f**k does it go?!
T: Over the lips and through the gums? (Laughs)
Casey: You f**ker! I can’t believe you killed him. That’s so over the top!
Monk: (Reflective) He was just alive...
Casey: T, what’s going on? Tell me or I swear...
T: It’s the race girl. Bubba was a delivery boy, like me. He works for a guy named Melk; I work for a guy named Merkel.
Casey: And what were we being delivered for?
T: The race. Merkel, Melk, all of them, need you to win. Bubba’s problem is that he stopped playing the game and started doing his own thing. I mean, we got rules, we have to, but Bubba was putting all of us in danger.
Monk: Kill us! (Awakening) he wants to kill us too!
T: Nobody’s f**king killing you. (Considers) Well, unless they think someone else is getting you, then, yea, it might be an option. It’s risky. But, if I can sneak you guys in to Merkel, then you’ll be safe.
Casey: Why does anybody want us, and what do they want us for?
T: Well you guys work near one of the race’s rest stops, Rest Stop 7B, to be exact. (Stops speaking quickly, turns) but that’s really more than I can tell you about the race. But suffice to say, you guys became somewhat famous on the net sites, and eventually you guys were part of an...um...challenge. Now you’re both part of the game.
Monk: And when we see this dude, what? We just get to go home. I mean there’s a guy lying here with his head beat in, courtesy of you I believe, and you’re telling me we can just skate free?
T: Just follow me. If any scouts see you going to Merkel, yea, they may try to interfere rather than let Merkel make bonus. But otherwise, you talk to Merkel and you’re free to go. Hell, this round is over in another hour. All challenges will expire. By the way, don’t worry about Bubba. I know this may be hard to believe, but if anyone had it coming, it was that guy.
View from outside of the car, going down the street. Fade out.
Fade in. Inside the building, T sneaks them into a back room; waiting is a couple flunkies and Merkel.
T: Merkel, here they are.
Merkel: ‘Bout time, buddy. You ain’t getting paid by the hour, OK? Well, we only have a few minutes.
Directs them into a side room
Casey: OK, Sparky, nice shirt. Can we please find out what’s going on here?
Merkel: (Sarcastically) Oh, yea, seconds are ticking away, everybody’s racing around, but lets bring it to a halt so the dopey girl can have everything spelled out on a f**king blackboard. (waves hands) Oh, you need context. Here it is in Cliff’s Notes, no pictures or catchy graphics, sorry.
Pauses for effect
Casey: (Walks up to him grabs his neck by surprise and freezes him) I asked politely, what’s going on? (She releases him. He regains composure and begins, more sincere)
Merkel: I’m a racer, and you are part of my race. This race of ours involves certain challenges, point gathering games.
Casey tries to follow. Monk still spaced-out, stares blankly. (To Monk, slowly) You ever play that video game when you were young where you get points for hitting people? Running them over. Like...10 points old lady, 50 points jogger.
Monk: (Laughs) we used to play a pretend game while driving. You know you’d see somebody with crutches and yell out “oh, that’s 50 points.”
Casey: Yea, we did that, suits were like 100 points. (Starts to ponder the point, thinking out loud) Or was it they were not considered worth living so they were 1 point...like a squirrel? (Shrugs) Eh, I can’t remember.
Monk: Nah, where I grew up it was old people, they were the bottom rung. I think you got more points for that.
Casey: Yea like 1 for a suit and 100 for a Nun.
Merkel: (Annoyed/anxious interrupts) Kids...may I... Anyway, along the line you two became somewhat notable on the Internet. (Looks at Casey) It was like, “Hey check out the girl at Rest Stop 7B” kind of stuff. Then somebody issued a challenge (pauses) something along the line of “if you can inside the pants of the girl at Rest Stop 7B, that’s, like, 500 points.”
Monk: (To Casey) 500 points, girl. Damn impressive.
Merkel: (Looking at Casey) Yea, Damn.
Casey: (With disgust) Great, so I’m a geek prize.
Monk: (To Casey) See this is how these kids were in Junior High. Start with a simple game of D&D and next thing you know, you couldn’t scratch your ass without getting docked power points. (To Merkel) I’m curious, in this fantasy world of yours, by “In the pants’ did you need, you know, (uses hands to gesture the following lines) rubbing, touching, the dirty deed…
Merkel: Things always get more detailed as it goes along; eventually people started having some fun with it. But these things, they’re little brag challenges, always a bunch of them and nothing usually comes from it, but this leg of the race was very tight. So, there was a side challenge, “first man in” if you will. Because, well being second, at that point it was practically worthless. (Stops looks at an increasingly annoyed Casey). They started adding levels; of course umm yea, that was the highest. And if you were the “second man in” the points dropped....
Monk: You got that one right, my brother. (Holds hand up for a high-five but Merkel does not reciprocate)
Casey: Could we possibly get off this twelve year old boy topic, can we wrap this up, please? (To Merkel) So Merkel, you wanna hit this? That’s it? Dead guys in the car, stalkings, all that for a lay?
Merkel: Don’t flatter yourself, dear. I don’t want you...
Casey: (Sarcastically) That’s a relief.
Merkel: But...I do want to win a race.
Casey: And what’s in it for me?
Merkel: Well, actually, nothing now. Rules don’t allow them to offer you anything, or even to be in on the get. Would make it worthless. As it is, just telling you cost me 80%. But again, if it keeps someone else from the first man in points, then….well, it is a tight race.
Monk: (Rising) You know, I’m certainly not Price Valiant, and I’ll hit pastry if given the chance, but she isn’t playing along. So we’ll just leave now, and unfortunate for you, if she was your only chance at winning, that chance is leaving.
Merkel: Well she isn’t the only side wager here. (Pause) Like I said, things get added on as we go along, and by last week, the challenge included (walks right up to Monk) you, big fella.
Big pause
Monk: (To Casey) And to think, all this time I was being flattered. OK girl, let’s go now, this jack-off is nuts. I’ve had enough of this for one day.
Casey: (Smiling) Oh, it’s all fun and games when it’s my honor, but try and tickle your bits and it crosses the line.
Merkel: Keep in mind; I did save your lives.
Casey: (Indignant) Saved ‘em and risked ‘em. I think we’re even. (Gathering and heading towards the door.)
Merkel: It’s more dangerous out there for you than it is in here. Believe me on that.
Casey: (Turns back to him, frustrated upset) Why us, anyway?
Merkel: Because you two became stars (looks at Monk) well, curiosities, at least. You see, everyone that was going to Rest Stop 7B, Repo Records to be more precise, was commenting on the girl at the coffee spot. Before long you two were web celebs. Your own sites, spottings, you know, most people following this game are not participants, they don’t even know where Rest Stop 7B, is. So, there are people all over the country trying to find out where you are, who you are, giving you descriptions, personalities, your own nicknames.
Monk: Nicknames?
Merkel: Yea, she is “Café oh-Lay”
Casey: What? “Café au lait?”
Merkel: No, no (slow, husky) “Café Oh. Lay”
Casey: (Throws her hands in the air) Once again, all I can say is “Eww.”
Monk: What about me?
Merkel: Oh, you’re “Droopy Dog.”
Monk: Are we done here? I’m missing my cartoons.
Banging on door
T: Boss, no time they’re coming for us. (Muffled scream)
Merkel: (Worried) Look the offer is there...
Casey: Umm, no thanks our answer is final.
Merkel: (resigned) Can’t say I blame you, frankly I hate these secondary challenges; screwing some anonymous girl, graffiti on a building, televised defecation, it all cheapen the race. I’m a purist, after all. (Noise outside continues) My main concern right now is keeping you away from the other racers. I got the points I need, but that changes if somebody else where to score your points. So, follow me, and we can protect both my lead and Droopy’s cherry.
They head towards a back door. There is loud banging at the front door. They race down a hall way towards another door. The door opens to an assembly room, and as they duck for cover behind a room divider, they’re noticed. Merkel is now separated from them. There are many people in the room and a large clock is counting down with minutes on it. The general atmosphere in the room is one of chaos. A large assembly room with a few dozen people, with many of them now pursuing Monk and Casey. They are behind a mobile room divider, crouched down behind a podium and a desk, lying down on their backs; they are using their force to keep the desk from being pushed back.
People are starting to breach their safe zone. There are also sporadic items flying through the air. In short it is a mob, that seems to be feeding off it’s own power.
Casey: Monk, do something! Say something! They’re gonna kill us.
Monk: (Considers yells) Stop! Stop!
The sound abates, the crowd noise pauses briefly.
Casey: (Nudging him, mouths the words) Say something.
Monk: (Pauses: Yells) Hey we are un-armed! There’s a pause, and then some random bangs. Their safety zone appears to be on the verge of being breeched.
Sliding up from behind next to them is a wounded T, he has a noticeable limp and a gun tucked in his pants. He looks to be enjoying all of this.
T: Fun stuff, eh? (He notices their look of astonishment. He offers up helpfully) You want me to fire off some cover? (He points towards the gun)
Before they can react an object nails T in the side of the head. He doubles over, dazed and, now, useless to them.
Casey: (To Monk) OK, now would you like to try this again, Einstein? (Mockingly:) “Hey, we’re unarmed.”
Monk: I’m sorry if I am at a loss of words when dealing with a mob that’s firing s**t at my head. This doesn’t occur very often in my life.
Casey: (Disgusted yells to crowd) All you f**king sick nerd f**ks need to go f**king back to your f**king mommies!
The mob continues, unabated.
Monk: (To Casey, sarcastically) Oh, well that worked, insult them, yea that’s even better!
Monk sees a few right off to the side about to break through.
Monk: Oh f**k, oh f**k, oh f**k. We’re dead. (Yells out) Hey! I got money!
March continues
Monk: I’ll have sex with anybody!
March continues
Monk: My car! You can have it! (Throws his keys)
March continues
Monk: (Reaches into pocket pulls out his paycheck) I got money! My check you can have it!
March continues
Monk: (Looks at his paycheck – light bulb moment- desperate, yells out) I WORK FOR SID!
March continues, but voices begin to buzz.
Voice from the crowd:(Surprised) What?
Monk: Sid! He’s my boss!
Merkel: (Disgusted) Aw you’re f**king...why the hell didn’t ya...
Various Crowd Voices: Bull S**t. He ain’t Sid’s. Cornhole was the Sid kid, he said so himself.
Casey: (Sees T next to her, wobbled, holding his head, he stands up next to them, and lets out a hand to help them up) What’s going on?
T: You’re Sid’s. We can’t touch Sid’s people. You’re like refs or you know, just not within the game’s parameters.
Crowd Voice: Prove it!
Monk reaches into pocket pulls out a pay stub.
T: (Dejected) Yea he’s Sid’s. (To Casey) Sid runs the regional rest stops. And always has a couple employees nearby that help keep things running. You got a Sid paycheck, not a company one. That’s a way of knowing. That, and he usually tells his people to name-drop him if something happens.
Both T and Casey shoots Monk a pissed look
Chad: (Standing) Yep that’s right, let ‘em go.
They begin to walk away. Casey looks to make sure that “them” includes her. Chad nods.
T: Yea you’re both Sid’s. You’re his pair. (To Merkel) So Cornhole and his buddy at the Mini Mart were lying.
Merkel: It’s a damn fine thing I didn’t schlep the bozo. (Points to Monk) Would have cost me 1000 points for schlepping one of Sid’s boys.
The crowd re-gathers around a small stage. Monk and Casey are huddled off to the side. The crowd is no longer angry; it’s about 100 people in a cramped space.
Chad walks towards the front; he is obviously the one in control of this meeting, the MC. He motions the crowd to settle down, he rings a loud bell, and they hush with a quiet buzz of conversation continuing. A stark contrast can be felt from the mad rush that preceded this scene. Now they are more composed.
Chad: (Stands) First off, I would like to thank the people of New Jersey for hosting this stage of the race. It’s been a few years since we had one based in Jersey, and I do believe this is the first time ever that Rest Stop 7B has hosted the finish line of any stage. So, good job by all. Things went incident free, and I would imagine this won’t be the last time we’re here.
Pausing, shuffles through some papers
Chad: Now, onto the judging: As it is I deduct 100 from Merkel for smuggling two of Sid’s people. Since everyone propositioned them there will be no deduction, but Dogal does lose 200 for getting a hand job from Café Oh-Lay.”
Monk turns to her, she shrugs.
Casey: Hey it was last week, I was on my way home...
Chad: Therefore, using the deductions for faults committed at Rest Stop 7B, plus Merkel gets 1000 deducted for Bubba. Remember even though he was a hateful son of a bitch that had this coming for a very long time, he was in possession of Sid’s people.
Lots of chatter and a pause
Chad: Therefore the stage 127-3 winner is...Melk.
Melk stands up, there are cheers and boo’s.
Chad: (Brief pause) Next stage, 127-sub three, will begin in...one minute fifty-five seconds.
Monk and Casey turn to leave but Casey pauses and goes back to Chad
Casey: ...But you knew, yet you were gonna let them tear us to pieces, you weren’t gonna say anything?
Chad: (Considers) No, I’m not allowed to stop them from breaking a rule; I just deduct the points after they break it.
Casey seems satisfied, but Monk is bothered.
Monk: But we’re Sid’s People?
Chad: Five minutes ago that meant nothing to you. You could have told somebody, it would have saved all this aggravation. (Points to the group, who have begun to go about other business) I didn’t expect this group to pick up the obvious; God knows they never have before. But weren’t you two the least bit curious? Here’s some advice, get out, talk to people, go online. God forbid catching a terrorist would ever come down to you two, with your heads in the clouds.
Casey: How the hell were we to know that we were part of all of this? This thing is underground. I just give out coffee...
Chad: Think about it for a minute, the only reason there even is a coffee shop is to cater to the Enormo folks going in and out of Rest Stop 7B. That’s what you do all day, is cater to the racers.
Casey: Great, so now you’re saying that I got Bubba’s blood on my hands.
Chad: You really do (wipes a bit from her hand) but no, Bubba was a loose cannon. He’s been a problem since he got here. Enormo has had two deaths in its history, both traceable to him.
Casey: But, he was nice. And his family...
Chad: You really are gullible. Bubba left a family years ago; I think they’re in Seattle somewhere. Don’t think there will be any tears spilt at this news, either. He was a loner...
Casey: He was a friend to us and tried to protect us.
Chad: Fair enough. Mourn. Grieve. For the person. But let’s not make more out of this than there is.
Monk: (Comforts Casey) He was doing his job.
Casey: But his job was wrong.
Pause, and leave. End Scene
Open Scene . Casey and Monk are in the car on the way out. It is evening.
Monk: I might not be in tomorrow. Tough day.
Casey: Tomorrow or ever. I’m thinking about it this time. You know, like that stuff you said to me about no job being all-clean. I might as well go into a situation I like and try to bring my own humanity to it.
Monk: Hey, I talk a lot of trash, don’t make any judgments....
Casey: It’s for the best. I was just giving out coffee, and look at, (shakes head, doesn’t cry but appears overwhelmed)
Monk: You’ll do good. Really, you should be working some place better.
Casey: You, too. You deserve better than this Monk.
Monk: I’m not going anywhere.
Casey: Come on. Clean yourself up. You’re good enough, you see yourself as some drunken bum, but underneath it, you can do it. A little belief and you can be so much more.
Monk: I believe. I believe in myself and I believe in Sid.
Casey: That’s a change of heart.
Monk: You know, in the end he was looking out for us. He came through. I almost blew it. But, ultimately, he was there for us.
Casey: The loyal foot soldier. Promise me if you want a raise, you’ll ask for it? A better job? Ask. Can you do that?
Monk: (Laughs) Sounds like work, I don’t know...
At the side of the car there’s a knocking on the window. It’s Dogal. Startled, Casey jumps back.
Monk: (Scared) S**t. What now?
Dogal continues to bang on the window. He then lifts both hands up in a “I’m unarmed pose.”
Dogal: Hey, guys. It’s all right. I’m off duty.
Casey: (Rolls down the window) What do you want?
Dogal: I need a favor. Can you give me a lift to the bus station?
Monk: (Incredulous) Didn’t you just try to kill us, like, an hour ago?
Dogal: That was the game. The games over. Now I’m just a regular citizen, who doesn’t feel like walking five miles at night to a bus station.
Casey: No lackeys to help?
Dogal: Nah, they gotta get onto the next leg.
Monk: Without you?
Dogal: Yea, I gotta job to get back to. I gotta skip the next two legs. (Gets in the backseat. Monk starts up the car)
Monk: What do you do?
Dogal: I work at a grocery store up in North Jersey (Casey and Monk exchange looks. Casey starts giggling)
Dogal: That’s funny?
Casey: Well, it’s just... You know you’re like Uber-lord in there. And now after playing God with people’s lives and the power and all, you go back to being a cashier?
Dogal: What the hell, did you think I was a Fortune 500 CEO? I mean, really, this kind of activity ain’t made for the corporate types. I work to pay bills, but the Enormo Race, that’s what I do.
Monk: (Considers) Fair enough. Like I said, we all got a job to do.
Car pulls away. Fade out following the car ride down the street and slowly disappearing from view.