Wagons West!/1

Overview

The party sets off from Seward County. Many people get on board.

Transcript

{Open: Lewis' Bar. Charlie Platts is sitting at the bar, drinking some whiskey. Lewis, the barkeep, walks up to Charlie.}

LEWIS: Hey, Chuck! How's the whiskey?

CHARLIE: Well, it's goin' down smooth, as always.

LEWIS: Heh... you've always loved the firewater!

CHARLIE: You get used to it after the years, you know that!

{The two chuckle.}

CHARLIE: Say, Lewis... you wouldn't happen to know anybody with a wagon?

LEWIS: Say what now?

CHARLIE: A wagon, Lew. I need one.

LEWIS: ... Ah, is this your ol' "goin' West" story again?

CHARLIE: Now, I'm serious!

LEWIS: Pssh, big deal. So what's the West got that we hain't? We've got bars, we've got sheriffs, we've got who-

CHARLIE: Lew, please, just hear me out!

LEWIS: Well, shoot, I ain't got nothin' better to do.

CHARLIE: Ever since they started a-goin' over West, I've been itchin' to go, myself. The problem bein' that I ain't got a wagon to m'name--hell, I ain't got barely nothin'! Thing is, I need myself a party, a buncha doctors an' natives an' whatnot comin' with me, helpin' me out and such.

LEWIS: Heh, I can't help you there, I gots me a bar I need to keep!

CHARLIE: I know, I know; the bar means ever'thing to you, don't it?

LEWIS: Yeah, yeah... But I do know a feller done got him a wagon.

CHARLIE: Shoot, you serious?

LEWIS: Damn skippy! Fellers call 'im Scraps, on account he killed a man.

CHARLIE: ... That don't make a lick of sense.

LEWIS: Aw, whatever, here's the address.

{Lewis writes down an address on an old bar napkin and hands it to Charlie.}

CHARLIE: Damn... I reckon nobody lived there!

LEWIS: Well, y'never know, know what I'm sayin'?

CHARLIE: Well, I gotta head off! Thanks, Lew!

LEWIS: Take care o' yerself, kid!

{Charlie gets off the bar stool and runs out.}

LEWIS: ... Shoot! I forgot to bill 'im!

{Cut: an old, creaky house with a wagon sitting in a small stable. Charlie walks up to the door and knocks on it.}

SCRAPS: {voice} And?

CHARLIE: ... Y-you're... Scraps?

SCRAPS: {voice} Who told you that?

CHARLIE: Lew, over at the bar...

SCRAPS: {voice} That damn...get in.

{Charlie lets himself in. In addition to Scraps, there is also a jittery old man in a rocking chair in the corner.}

JUMPIN' JOEY: Now who is it? I can't get any gatdum slepp with all these fellers trying to-{falls asleep}

CHARLIE: ... Huh. Must be a nursing home...

JUMPIN' JOEY: {Wakes up} Feels like it. I'm old, I'm senile, and I'm surrounded by people I hate.

SCRAPS: Joey! Don't make me roll out the paper again! Now, Mr...?

CHARLIE: Platts. Charlie Platts, sir.

JUMPIN' JOEY: Platts...say, is there a Mr. Ezekiel Platts in your family?