TRACKING DOWN the line of empty, open capsules. Frozen twilight. The final four capsules are sealed, lids in place.
ANGLE - INSIDE CAPSULE
NEWT, then RIPLEY. HICKS next, his head and chest bandaged. Then BISHOP in his caul of plastic. But the lid of Bishops capsule is misted with hothouse condensation.
CLOSER
A tear of fluid streaks the condensation.
An alarm SOUNDS.
A monitor begins to scroll da
track the French
soldiers.
As the lead wagon rolls over a muddy puddle, straddling
it, a MUD-COVERED FIGURE, reaches up, grabs the wagons
undercarriage, pulls itself up and clings, unseen to the
underside of the wagon. The figure, obscured by the mud,
barely looks human.
As the other wagons roll over other muddy depressions in
the road, three more mud-covered figures reach up, grab
and cling to t
a smile on my face without feelin like the good Lord gypped me.
INT. RALPHS
It is late, the supermarket all but deserted. We are tracking in on a fortyish man in Bermuda shorts and sunglasses at the dairy case. He is the Dude. His rumpled look and relaxed manner suggest a man in whom casualness runs deep.
He is feeling quarts of milk for coldness and examining their expiration dates.
VOICE-OVER
TRAIN WHEELS grinding against track, slowing. FOLDING TABLE LEGS scissoring open. The LEVER of a train door being pulled. NAMES on lists on clipboards held by clerks moving alongside the tracks.
CLERKS (V.O.)
몭 Rossen 몭 Lieberman 몭 Wachsberg 몭
BEWILDERED RURAL FACES coming down off the passenger train. FORMS being set out on the folding tables. HANDS straightening pens and pencils and ink
track
Comindown the track with a smoky stack
Hear him puffin cominround the hill
Caseys here to thrill every Jack and Jill
Every time his funny little whistle sounds
Everybody hurries to the circus grounds
Time for lemonade and Cracker Jack
Casey Juniors back Casey Juniors back
Oh. My, my.
Now let me see.
Must be right around here somewhere.
I hope. Ah, watch it there.
On the treetop
Where are we