Cadillac Ranch (for Marshall, left original for time stamp)

"Cadillac Ranch"

By god it's been a hell of a night, patrons from all round the small Texas town flood the little country bar. This is the place of rest for a long hard days work, a place to shoot pool and have a good brawl or just throw dice in the corner. If you're lucky you might even catch a bartender or two on the bar half naked serving flaming shots of whiskey and taking money for body shots. On top of that Marshall says **** the posers, **** the asphalt cowboys, **** any fake ass son of **** that ain't never spurred anything with hair and ate anything with it either, and I mean ****. No electrical bull, no earrings, no goddamn long hair, that's for high heels, red lipstick and designer purses. This is the stop of the true cowboy, and he can make the rules because the bar that this property sits on, known as, "The Cadillac Ranch" belongs to him, only him, and he plays by the unwritten rules of the country and his own, out here he is untouchable. The cops, FBI, CIA, they can't touch him on this piece of private property.

The camera pans around the smoke filled room. A screen door sits by the bar, the smoke being pulled through it, outside by the wind. A few old men are sitting at the bar on their tall stools, cowboy hats rested in front of them. They order their drinks and ash their cigarettes into clay ashtrays made by the local indian reservation. I know, cowboys and indians? Interesting.

It's still early in the night, the younger crowd doesn't come until later. The sound of pool balls banging into each other can be heard over the DJ. Country music plays as people pair up to two step and be whirled around lightly on their feet like a paper airplane in a breeze. One of the men doing the twirling is Mr. Marshall Gates. He slides across the floor in a nice pair of ostrich quill boots and is starched from top to bottom, his $1,500 Stetson tilted a bit to the side on his head.

He gives his indian friend a twirl across the glossy wood floor then pools her back into his body shuffling his feet leading her in the direction the dance is going.

"I've never seen you hear at the bar, you live on the reservation or you just new in town?" Asked Marshall out of curiosity.

"No I live on the reservation. Have you been there before?"

"I've had the pleasure of being shown around. A bunch of good folks, me and the Chief even sat down for a while and spoke on a few differenty things."

"Well, then you know how hard we have to work, and how protective are families are."

"Yes Ma'am, I do."

"See, I'm suppose to be out scouting deer right now so that we have something to eat for fall."

"And you came here because?"

"Marshall I get tired of being kept on the Reservation, I want to go see things, meet people, I want to be apart of more than just our tribe."

"Honey, you do realise that your tribe comes on my ranch, into my bar?"

"Yes. I was hoping you could find a way to keep me unnoticable for the night."

"Ok, but if this goes south we both pay the consequences."

Marshall gives are another twirl and brings her back into his starched shirt leaning her back. Her long black hair hanging halfway to the floor. "Marshall kiss me."

"Ma'am I don't know how you know me, but I don't even know your name."

"Falguni, in english it means beautiful, but you can call me Fal."

"Ok Fal, lets slide over to the bar where we aren't so noticeable. My bodies achin' and I'm not in the mood for takin' a lickin from a bunch of Indian fellows. By the way, your momma gave you a good name you are beautiful."

The two chatted for the rest of the night over a few beers and alot of Tequila. Marshall packed his cigaretts and lit one passing it over to Fal. Naturally he lit a second for himself, inhaling the smoke and blowing it up into the air. He picked up his hat where he had layed it on the bar and leaned over whispering to Fal. She wrapped her hands around his neck. When she leaned back you could see the big smile and nod of approval. The two headed out of the screen door disappearing into the night.

The Next Morning

Marshall had several houses that he'd built on his ranch, mainly for family, and the people who worked for him. The few nights though his been staying in a smaller, much older house, one of the first ones built on the property. He has a horse with an absess that he has to watch over so he spends his night here.

This is also where he brought Fal and this morning between 7 and 8 A.M. you can hear the two running around the house in a playful manner.

The camera zooms into the small bedroom window to see Marshall butt ass naked with a pair of boots on and spurs. Fal is **** in her panties running around the bed as Marshall playfully jumps for her.

"This cowboys gonna get his indian!" He boasted.

"I already scalped you last night cowboy." Said Fal.

As the playfulness continued a loud roar could be heard. Coming down one of the many driveways that ran through the ranch was an old beat up car kicking dust up behind hit and blowing the horn.

"Holy ****!" Shouted Fal.

"What? Who is it?" Marshall asked non-chalantly

"My brothers, you've gotta run!"

"Run!? This is my damn ranch! Let me talk to them."

"No Marshall, please I can make it better just get out of here and don't let them see you!"

"You can make it better?"

"Yes, please I don't want any trouble for my family this is my fault not yours, now go!"

"Getting ran out of my own damn place, first I gotta do this for fun."

Marshall throws some gear on, as Fal tries to stop him and the doors of the car are banging shut. The four brothers can be heard shouting as they beat on the door yelling for the two.

Fal quickly throws her clothes on as Marshall climbs out of the window, he runs around the corner of the house where he can see Fal's four brothers and screams out to them.

"He you boys looking for me!?"

Marshall hysterically begins to laugh. His bald head is shining from the sun, and his pale ass is casting a shadow. He has two six shooters holstered around his waist and his cowboy hat his hanging between his hips, his hands straight in the air.

"I bet you boys can hold a cowboy hat with no hands!"

They take off after Marshall, one of them scooping up Fal, and continue to chase him through the pasture.

The Next Morning

An old coffee shop in the same small town sat perfectly in the town square a few buildings from the courthouse. The two clock rang as 8 A.M. hit. Steam rose from the two cups of dark roasted coffee and cigarettes that Kut and Marshall had. It was a nice cozy spot, few padded chairs at the bar and always a nice lady, if you were there on the right day, ready to fill your cup up. Marshall poured a little bourbon into his cup and slid the flask back into his jacket.

"Marshall what are thinking about? I haven't seen that gaze since your daddy decided to buy the auction barn."

"Kut after what happened with those indian boys, I've had alot on my mind." Marshall took a drag off his cigarette and swig of coffee.

"Kut, there's always been a group of people that could never see eye to eye and I always thought if they ever got a chance to sit down and talk face to face they might realize they have alot in common."

"You know this girl's have your age right? Your fuckin 38 get it together already."

"I miss the ole' times, Kut. The old school wrestling, when it meant something, when the traveling was fun, the fights were good. Now it's a bunch of washed up kids then can't drink a longneck without falling over. Hell, they can't hardly make it town to town. I miss the rodeoing between towns Kut, and still making the wrestling shows on time. It was two jobs, and damnit I was decent at both."

"Yea, and now you're bodies paying for it. You keep it up your going to be in a wheelchair before long."

"You live once and I'm having fun again, **** it. After all I did get me pretty little indian girl."

"Yea well you better start town hoppin' to get these events before they catch up to you."

"Well there's always been groups of people that never could see eye to eye,
and I always thougt if they ever had a chance to sit down and talk face to face
They might realize they got a lot in common."

"You better hope them indian boys feel the same!" Spit out Kut.

The two men were talking over their coffee smokin' their cigarettes when some snickerin' and pointin came from the back. They started pokin fun at Marshall's cowboy hat. Big burly bikers made their way over to Kut and Marshall.

One ole' boy said, "Hey, Tex where'd you park your horse?"

Kut pulled his hat down low, but these boy's couldn't be ignored.

"I think I'll rip that hat right off your head!" The biggest one boldy stated.

"You'll ride a black tornado, cross the western sky, rope an ol' Blue Northern, and milk it till its dry, bulldog the mississippi, and pin its ears down flat, long before you take this cowboys hat! Now parter this hats better left alone. I got from my daddy when he passed away last year and my nephew skinned the rattler that makes the headband and the eagle feath was given to me by an old indian from of mine."

"If your leather jacket means to you what my hat means to me, then we understand each other, and we'll just let it be. But if you still thinks it's funny then man you got my back up against a wall and you'll have to fight us all."

At that time every cowboy in the coffee shop stood up nodding to Marshall that they had his back and that's when you could see the sadness in the gang leader's eyes. They all shuffled outside and Kut turned to me with a smile the size of a Texas grin!