Wine Mama (62) Just Leave A Message

Kirk Carter@ WGA Copyright 2013

WINE MAMA (62)

JUST LEAVE A MESSAGE

INT: GATORTAIL RESTAURANT-BRIAN'S OFFICE-TUESDAY-9 A.M.

BRIAN WALKS IN, PROMPTS UP MESSAGE BANK AND NOTICES IT IS BLANK

MESSAGE BANK ALSO SHOWING THAT IT HAS BEEN CORRUPTED AND NEEDS TO BE RESET

CHECKING SETTINGS AGAIN, NOTICES IT HAS BEEN HOLDING THE MAXIMUM AMOUNT OF NOTICES AND HAS BEEN RESET THROUGH DEFAULT

PROMPTING HIS ACCOUNT, THE COMPUTERIZED MESSAGE COMES ON

COMPUTERIZED MESSAGE-LADY'S VOICE

"I'm sorry, but your message system has been entered without formal pass code and has, been altered and erased, please check all settings before attempting to operate this account, please contact your phone provider for further instructions, thank you...AT&T!"

BRIAN LOOKS PERPLEXED, TRYING TO LOOK AT MENU AS TO WHO TO CALL

SO, HE CALLS HIS OWN NUMBER FROM HIS EMERGENCY FLIP-PHONE

WOMAN ANNOUNCER

"Welcome to Total Call, if you know your preferred language, please press..."

BRIAN PUSHES ONE FOR ENGLISH

DIALS HIS OWN NUMBER

OPENING WITH BLUES MUSIC, IT PROMPTS HIS MESSAGE

"Hello, this is Brian Cashman, I'm out in the swamp catching Gator right now, but leave me a message if your hungry, thanks!"

COMPUTERIZED WOMAN ANNOUNCER

"Please leave a message at the beep or press nine for more options, AT&T!"

BRIAN PRESSING SEVEN

COMPUTERIZED WOMAN ANNOUNCER

"You have zero messages, thank you, AT&T!"

BRIAN TALKING TO HIMSELF

"Well...ain't this some shit!"

SANDY COMES IN, WEARING A SUNDRESS, MULES, AND A BIG FLOPPY HAT

SANDY

"Morning sweetie, who's on the horn?"

BRIAN

"Well, at this point...apparently nobody, my system fucked up or something, everything got erased...who knows?"

SANDY

"Probably the media, wanted to know about that story last night, they just blew your system apart...happened to me when David died!"

BRIAN

"What did that have to...when David died, what?"

SANDY

"It wasn't the fact that he died, it was the way he died, everyone was fascinated!"

BRIAN

"And how did the poor old bastard go again?"

SANDY

"He wasn't a poor old bastard, he was only forty-two, but he died while he was fucking me, don't you remember...the paramedics making fun, laughing as he was still laying on the floor, dead as a door nail with that huge boner still going on?"

BRIAN

"You said he fell off of you when he had his heart attack, he pulled out from pure movement, you never said anything about his manliness...not once did you speak of this so-called Large Boner?"

SANDY

"Oh well, you weren't the recipient, or you would have remembered, yea David was quite endowed!"

BRIAN

"So, how do I...I know it's a strange..."

SANDY

"Oh, how do you measure up...okay I guess, but you have a lot more feeling with it, and I doubt you'd ever leave me holding the wienie...so to speak!"

BRIAN

"Well, that's nice to know, do you have any suggestions as to how to get this phone working again Miss P.C.?"

SANDY

"Sure, if you've already reset your phone bank thingy, then if the call was really that important, they will call you back...pretty simple really!

BRIAN

"Didn't think about the phone thingy, thanks for the technical!"

SANDY

"That technical jargon will just get you confused, so trust me on this one..."

BRIAN

"I'm so thankful you let me off easy with that one, so what's with those shoes, them be sexy?"

SANDY

"Old school Candies, four-inch heel, wood platforms, very comfortable, and yea...sexy, too!"

BRIAN

"Is that like a girl's way of expressing her attitude, you guys always trip me out with your moods?"

SANDY

"I call these my "Fuck Me" shoes...any questions?"

BRIAN

"Ah...no, got to go see if John needs any help in the kitchen...I'll be back!"

(scene change)

INT: SHEFFIELD WINERIES-PRODUCTION ROOM-TUESDAY-10 P.M.

RON SHEFFIELD TALKING WITH CHIEF PROCESSOR-TOBY COLLINS

SHEFFIELD

"So, we are having problems with contamination...I don't understand?"

COLLINS

"Have been fermenting all my life Mister Sheffield, but this body that mashed in here, it's...well it apparently is interfering with the 4372 activator, I thought the tank was clean, but something is causing it to not activate...with these kind of grapes, they're kind of picky..."

SHEFFIELD

"What would cause that?"

COLLINS

"Having a human body spilling all his inside crap into my sterile tanks didn't help...I'm thinking the gunpowder residue, that would shut any yeasting right there!"

SHEFFIELD

"What should we do...is there a remedy?"

COLLINS

"Haven't tried this in a while, but we could throw out some of this crop...as it already has entered the water table...can probably save about the other three-fourths, but it needs to be purged and sterilized before I can bring any new spores into here!"

SHEFFIELD

"How long will that take?"

COLLINS

"Longer than these grapes are going to last, they're already turning now...I have to be real careful here!"

SHEFFIELD

"So, what is the quantity we have to throw out, what are we left with...assuming we can process it?"

COLLINS

"About three-thousand bushels which I had already loaded up...I mean it looked okay when I started, but now that the skins are pressed out, I can't take any chances with contamination, the activator isn't responding, so we need to make a decision here?"

SHEFFIELD

"Of all the batches I didn't want to screw up, was the Cashman harvest, it will be a bit short, but it's better than nothing."

COLLINS

"That's assuming it holds up, if it starts turning, I can't help him...so it's a crap shoot either way!"

SHEFFIELD

"Well, let me give him a call, this is not going to cheer him up at all after what he's been going through...but, the truth must be known!"

SHEFFIELD CALLS UP CASHMAN

SHEFFIELD

"Hey Brian, it's Ron over at Sheffield...how's it going?"

BRIAN

"It's going, but I've been having phone troubles or something...did you leave me any messages?"

SHEFFIELD

"Not me, but I think the Lieutenant may have called you, I wouldn't know...fishing the body out and everything just caused all kinds of headaches!"

BRIAN

"Yea, how did that all work out anyway...did everything get cleaned out and everything?"

SHEFFIELD

"Yea Brian, that was kind of what I was calling about, ah my wine maker..."

BRIAN

"Your wine maker?"

SHEFFIELD

"Toby Collins, been with me forever...seems that he had already started a batch of your grapes, about three-thousand bushels...it goes through the carte or the auto-treading, then the liberdade or the liberty process, then the macacos...the plunging, well when the activator didn't..."

BRIAN

"Let me guess...didn't activate?"

SHEFFIELD

"Right...wow, your really good at perceiving this...so I had to stop processing and..."

BRIAN

"Dump three-thousand bushels of my harvest, right?"

SHEFFIELD

"Right...so questioning aside, do you want to risk trying again  cause we're looking at a forty-eight hour turnaround and I'm not sure your grapes are ready for this...they may not be produceable?"

BRIAN

"What else is new, what else can go wrong here, I'm surprised they made it this far...okay, okay ask your wine wizard over there what he thinks, cause you know I was planning on making Port Vodka out of these things anyway...what does he think?"

SHEFFIELD

"I'll ask him and get back to you!"

BRIAN

"Yea, what the hell...just leave a message..."

SHEFFIELD

"Leave a message?"

BRIAN

"Yea, why not...just leave a message!"

scene close