PROJECT PLOWSHARE


An Outrage! Episode

 Copyright © 1990
John K. Mackenzie
All Rights Reserved
Member: Writers Guild of America, East

CAST

    AN AGING ARMY COLONEL – "The Colonel"

    CAPTAIN THOMPSON – The Colonel's aide, late 20s.

SET

    A remote, Army command post, somewhere in Latin America. Dominating the scene is a large table holding a scale model of a small farming village; a few dozen huts and shacks surrounded by fields, hills, and jungle.

    A photo of the President hangs on the wall near an American flag. There's an Army-issue metal folding chair with a Colonel's field jacket draped over the back; chest pocket dripping with campaign ribbons and decorations.

WARDROBE AND PROPS

    Appropriate Army uniforms; with swagger stick (riding crop) and musician's pitch-pipe for the Colonel.

    A cheap cassette tape-deck, ready to play an instrumental version of "God Bless America."

    Various maps and reconnaissance photos, desk, typewriter, filing cabinets, metal lockers, etc.

STANDARD OPENING FOR ALL Outrage! SKETCHES

 FADE UP ON TV NEWSROOM
as avuncular, conservatively dressed, newscast/anchor gives the following a serious, deadpan delivery:

HOST
Welcome to "Outrage." A series of short television dramas, created under the direction of a controlled substance, and designed specifically to:

. . .ridicule authority,
. . .celebrate hypocrisy,
. . .offend the conventional wisdom,
. . .and desecrate as many of the virtues and values in our society as time permits.

FADE OUT

FADE UP ON

INT. ARMY QUONSET HUT

CLOSE-UP COLONEL'S FIELD JACKET
to see campaign ribbons. PULL BACK to see that jacket is hanging over the back of a gray metal chair with a stencil reading: "PROPERTY - U.S. ARMY"

MUSIC: INSPIRATIONAL DOCUMENTARY

    ANCHOR'S VOICE
    This program is dedicated to the extraordinary achievements of Western Industrial Man. Our theme for this episode has been derived from a Biblical passage:

SHOT HAS WIDENED
to find a rigid, spit-and-polish COLONEL STANDING STIFFLY at the edge of a table, hands clasped behind his back holding a leather swagger stick. As he studies the table-top, he raises and lowers himself on the balls of this feet.

SUPER TITLE:

Somewhere
in
Latin America

    ANCHOR'S VOICE (CTD)
    (ADD ECHO)
    "And they shall beat their plowshares into swords."

PAN DOWN
to see that the table top holds a SCALE MODEL of a motley JUNGLE FARMING VILLAGE.

MUSIC OUT
SOUND: KNOCK ON THE DOOR

    COLONEL
        (without looking up)
    Come.

DOORWAY
as THE CAPTAIN enters.

    CAPTAIN
        (with papers)
    A priority directive from the Pentagon, Colonel.

    COLONEL
        (still doesn't look over)
    Read it, Thompson.

    CAPTAIN
    Yes, sir.
        (reading)
    "Section One, Paragraph One. To all Latin American military advisers. Effective this date, you will advise your advisees to initiate an immediate peace and pacification program."

Paying no attention to the Captain, THE COLONEL continues his intense study of the table-top model.

    COLONEL
    Hmmmmmmm. Maybe I better soften up the perimeter first with some heavy mortar fire.

    CAPTAIN
        (continues to read)
    "This program will have the following objectives."

    COLONEL
    On the other hand, I could move in some bazooka teams...

    CAPTAIN
    "Sub-paragraph "A". To convince the indigenous population that the incumbent government ..."

    COLONEL
        (joyfully bashing model shack
        with his swagger stick)
    ...and whammo!

    CAPTAIN
    "... is sincerely concerned with their health and welfare. Sub-paragraph "B"...

    COLONEL
        (without looking over)
    Captain, what's the population of San Louis del...uh...San Louis del watchamacallit?

    CAPTAIN
    San Luis de las Flores, sir. Seventy-three was the last estimate from intelligence.

    COLONEL
        (looking over for the
        first time)
    Seventy-three! Seventy-three!!

    CAPTAIN
    Yes, sir. It's a farming village.

    COLONEL
    A what! A farming village!
        (waving swagger stick)
    Goddamn it, Captain! This objective is crawlin' with...with heavily armed Commie spics! Hundreds of 'em! You understand! Probably thousands!

    CAPTAIN
    Yes, sir.
        (continues reading)
    "Whenever and wherever possible ...

    COLONEL
    A farming village, my ass! Gimme a break, for Christ's sake!

    CAPTAIN
    Ues, sir.
        (continues reading)
    "...the peace and pacification program should employ negotiation...

    COLONEL
    A little napalm will keep these pinko greaseballs busy for a while!

    CAPTAIN
    "...and other non-violent measures to avoid prejudicial liquidation of property, crops, and livestock..."

THE COLONEL has taken out his CIGARETTE LIGHTER and he starts it down toward the table-top.

    COLONEL
        (imitating falling bomb)
    Wheeeeoooooowwwwww ... Whump!
        (sets model shack on fire)
    Roast your cojones on that one, Jose!

    CAPTAIN
    "... as this tends to impair the credibility of the peace and pacification effort."

    COLONEL
        (face at table-top level)
    Oh, Jesus! Look at that mother burn!

    CAPTAIN
    "Upon occupation of indigenous territory..."

    COLONEL
    On second thought...

    CAPTAIN
    "...military advisers should arrange indoctrination seminars ..."

    COLONEL
    ...this situation is perfect for a one meg tactical nuke!

    CAPTAIN
    "...and interviews with local authorities for the network news."

    COLONEL
        (finally paying attention)
    What the hell are you mumbling about, over there, Thompson?

    CAPTAIN
    Well, sir, uh...it's this new peace and pacification directive from the Pentagon.

After a slack-jawed glare to absorb this preposterous news, THE COLONEL LURCHES over to the chair on which his field jacket hangs and starts WHACKING AWAY at his collection of CAMPAIGN RIBBONS with his swagger stick.

    COLONEL
    You see these, Captain? You see these! (WHACK) Vietnam! (WHACK) Greneda! (WHACK) Somalia! (WHACK) Bosnia! (WHACK) Watts! (WHACK) Kosovo! (WHACK) Desert Storm! (WHACK) Iraq! And there's still plenty of room for San Luis del . . del whateverthefuck! (WHACK) (WHACK)
        (crossing to Captain)
    Listen up, Thompson, God dammit! Do you think I've spent forty years learning how t'fight so you can come in here and read me this...this insufferable shit about peace and pacification! Is that what you think! Well, is it!

    CAPTAIN
    No, sir. I was only...

    COLONEL
    Quiet! All my life I've had to stand by and watch other officers take credit for initiating aggressive combat activities.
        (slapping his shoulder)
    And now, they all have at least one star and some'a those bastards have got two or three! So now, by God Thompson, now it is gonna be my---fucking---turn! And if all Providence has seen fit to provide me with – at this crucial moment in my career – is a farming village, then by God so be it! Because I am Armageddon, Thompson! I am death! I am the destroyer of worlds! And I am also one pissed off son of a bitch!

THE COLONEL rips the papers away from THE CAPTAIN, tears them up and sprinkles the pieces over his head.

    COLONEL (CTD)
    So here's your peace! And here's your pacification!
        (jabbing swagger stick
        toward the door)
    Now get your butt out'a here and tell the company commanders it's time for boots n' saddles! Boots 'n saddles, boy!

    CAPTAIN
    Are you sure it's gonna be all right, Colonel? I mean that directive? It seems pretty official.

Subdued, THE COLONEL puts his arm over THE CAPTAIN'S shoulders and leads him toward the table with the model on it.

    COLONEL
    Look, son, I'm sorry I blew my top. But you and I have been sent out here t'do a job. A damn important job! And the trouble is that those, those desk bound cretins back at the Pentagon are out a'touch, Thompson! And I mean out! Waaayyy out! If they really knew what was going on out here ...
      (whacks the table)
    ...if they could see these heavily fortified Commie enclaves like you and I see them. If they really knew what was happening out here, they wouldn't be sending us this... this peace and pacification shit!
      (suddenly quiet)
    You know something son? You know what our real problem is?

    CAPTAIN
    Well, not exactly, sir. No.

    COLONEL
    The real God damn problem is that the bully brass back in Washington, those arm chair assholes calling the shots, have forgotten what the name a'the game is out here. And the name a'the game, Captain, the name a'the game is ...
      (through clenched teeth)
    kill . . burn . . destroy. You got that, son?

    CAPTAIN
    Well, sir...I... uh...

    COLONEL
    Then let me hear it, boy! Let me hear it!
    C'mon, son. Repeat after me. On the count of three. Are you ready!
      (using his swagger stick as a baton)
    And a-one, and a-two and a-three. Kill, burn, destroy. Kill, burn, destroy.
      (the Captain is silent)
    C'mon now, boy. You're holding back, there. Let it go. Just let it out. It's in there. I know it's in there! Just let it out! Let me hear it!

THE CAPTAIN begins to repeat the words with THE COLONEL. Softly and reluctantly at first, his volume and enthusiasm increases with each repetition as THE COLONEL keeps revving up the cadence with his swagger stick.

    COLONEL/CAPTAIN
      (softly but building)
    Kill. . burn . . destroy.
    Kill. . burn . . destroy.

    COLONEL
    Yes! Good! Good! You're getting it! You're getting it!

    COLONEL/CAPTAIN
      (getting faster)
    Kill, burn, destroy!
    Kill, burn, destroy!
    Kill, burn, destroy!

    COLONEL
    Catch the rhythm, son!
    Catch the rhythm!

    COLONEL/CAPTAIN
    Kill, burn, destroy!
    Kill, burn, destroy!
    Kill, burn, destroy!

As the incantation continues, THE CAPTAIN gets louder as THE Colonel begins to drop out.

    COLONEL/CAPTAIN
    Kill! Burn! Destroy!
    Kill! Burn! Destroy!
    Kill! Burn! Destroy!

    COLONEL
      (as the Captain
      continues)
    That's it, boy! That's it!

    THE COLONEL has given THE CAPTAIN his swagger stick.

    COLONEL/CAPTAIN
    Kill! Burn! Destroy!
    Kill! Burn! Destroy!
    Kill! Burn! Destroy!

The COLONEL stops chanting and beats time with his fists.

    COLONEL
    Now! Let 'em have it, son! Let those bastards have it!

With GLAZED EYES, his face a demonic mask, THE CAPTAIN starts punctuating his chant by smashing the model huts with the Colonel's swagger stick.

    CAPTAIN
      (in a frenzy)
    Kill! Burn! Destroy!
    Kill! Burn! Destroy!
    Kill! Burn! Destroy!

    COLONEL
      (egging the Captain on)
    Oh, yes! Yes! God, yes! Bash the bastards! Show no mercy! Take no prisoners!

    CAPTAIN
      (totally out of control)
    KILL! BURN! DESTROY!
    KILL! BURN! DESTROY!
    KILL! BURN! DESTROY!

As THE CAPTAIN continues his frenzied model bashing, THE COLONEL suddenly belts out a famous hymn, stomping around and waving his arms as he sings.

    COLONEL
      (singing)
    "Onward Christian soldiers,
    Marching as to war.
    With the cross of Jesus,
    Going on before."
      (starts next verse)
    "Onward Christian soldiers ...
      (sees the Captain)

THE CAPTAIN has slumped down over the table, exhausted. His arm still flailing limply at the model shacks. THE COLONEL goes to his side.

    COLONEL (CTD)
      (breathing hard and leaning
      down to Captain's face)
    Oh, God! God! You feel it, son? You feel it? You feel it building?

    CAPTAIN
      (trying to recover
      his composure)
    What? What's that?

    COLONEL
      (grabbing his crotch)
    The fire in your balls! You feel it? Oh Jesus, but that's good! God damn it, Captain! It's times like this when a good soldier needs a woman t'rape!

    CAPTAIN
    Well, sir, I don't know ...

    COLONEL
      (putting his arm over the Captain's shoulder)
    And now ... and now I want you t'think about what I'm gonna tell you, Captain. Because this may come as a surprise. Listen carefully, son. Our enemy...our real enemy ...is not the Latin Commies, or the Castro Cubans or the Asian gooks or even the Red chinks.

    CAPTAIN
    It's not?

    COLONEL
    No! Shit, no! The goddamn tragedy is that people don't even know who our real enemy is. That is a fact, Thompson! And I'm gonna let you in on little secret. Our worst enemy, the thing that scares the livin' shit right out a'me, the one force in the world that can wipe us all out...
      (suddenly quiet)
    ...is peace.

    CAPTAIN
    Peace?

    COLONEL
    You heard me, Captain. Peace. Peace is our real enemy! Think about it, boy. Think about it! Peace limits Congressional appropriations. Peace interferes with the development of new weapons. Peace is bad for Halliburton, Lockheed-Martin and General Motors. And peace slows down promotions. You wann'a be a captain the rest a'your life!

    CAPTAIN
    No, sir!

    COLONEL
    And peace is also bad for the country, boy. Puts people out a'work and plays hell with the American Legion and the National Rifle Association! In fact, son - now hear me on this one - war is essential to the survival of every peace loving nation! Am I getting through, boy? Are you receiving me, son?

    CAPTAIN
      (still uncertain)
    Well, sir, I hear you all right, but ...

THE COLONEL REACHES over to the edge of the table and turns on a CASSETTE TAPE PLAYER as we hear an instrumental version of "God Bless America."

    COLONEL
      (quiet, but building)
    Just think of all those businesses back home depending on us, boy. Winchester Arms, Grumman Aircraft, Dow Chemical. And think of the thousands of fine folks who are dedicating their lives, their entire fucking lives, to things like...like nerve gas and radiation fall-out patterns. Those patriotic people who build our tanks, design our missiles, and test our body bags. They're counting on us, son! Us! You and I! Counting on us to give their lives meaning and purpose! Are we gonna let 'em down? Well, are we!

    CAPTAIN
    I don't wanna let anybody down or anything like that, Colonel, but ...

    COLONEL
    You're damn right you don't! And now, with the Ruskies splitting up their country and reducing their defense budget...Christ! It could be twenty years before there's another decent goddamn World war!

THE COLONEL TURNS OFF THE CASSETTE PLAYER, reaches into his pocket and takes out a SMALL PITCH-PIPE, blows to get the right key and starts singing to the melody of: "Thanks For The Memory."

    COLONEL
      (singing)
    "Thanks for the memory,
    Of Los Alamos at dawn,
    Of buddies that are gone,
    Of atom bombs and hand grenades,
    And burning flesh and screams.
    Oh, thank you so much."
      (to the Captain)
    Are you with me, Captain?

    CAPTAIN
    Well, I . . I don't know, Colonel.

    COLONEL
      (conspiratorial)
    We never did get any peace and pacification directive from the Pentagon, did we Thompson? Did we!

    CAPTAIN
      (hesitates)
    Uh...Well look, sir. Can't we get in a lot of trouble over this. I mean I don't feel like going t'the stockade for neglecting orders.

    COLONEL
      (pointing)
    What's that? What is that I see on your shoulder there, Captain? By God, son! It looks like an oak leaf! Can you believe that! It is an oak leaf!
      (holding out his hand)
    Congratulations ... MAJOR Thompson!

An OVERWHELMED CAPTAIN tries to show his appreciation for this dramatic "field promotion" by screeching out another chorus of the song; which he butchers badly as he holds his arms out toward his hero.

    CAPTAIN
      (singing)
    "Thanks for the memory,
    Of Los Alamos at dawn,
    Of buddies that are gone...

The COLONEL interrupts

    COLONEL
    At ease there, son. At ease. That's better. Thank you, thank you. But that wasn't necessary. I already know I can count on your commitment and cooperation! Right?

    CAPTAIN
    You certainly can, sir! You certainly can!
      (striding to the table)
    Intelligence must have blown their gourds on this one! Everybody knows this place is crawling with heavily armed Commie spics! Hundreds...probably thousands of 'em!

    COLONEL
    Good, son. Very, very good. And now, where are you going?

    CAPTAIN
    Uh...to get the company commanders.

    COLONEL
    Quite so, son. Quite so. The radio is waiting. I'm waiting. Your country is waiting. There's only one more thing to resolve.

    CAPTAIN
    What's that, sir?

    COLONEL
    The peace and pacification directive?

    CAPTAIN
    Sorry, sir. I don't know anything about any peace and pacification directive.

    COLONEL
    (clapping hands)
    Oh, outstanding! Outstanding! Well said! Okay, off you go son! Correction! Off you go...MAJOR!

THE COLONEL and CAPTAIN exchange salutes as THE CAPTAIN EXITS. The COLONEL CROSSES to the table and brushes pieces of the battered model village onto the floor with his swagger stick.

    COLONEL
    Sometimes I think these kids will never learn.

Starts humming "Thanks For The Memory"

FADE OUT

Outrage intro

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Discover the foundation of democracy as we visit this all-American Family Unit

 

Series available for production. Contact the writer at: info@thewritingworks.com

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