"Hayseeds from Hades"

Excerpt
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EXT. CRASH SITE - HIGH SHOT

Limo speeding away down the empty freeway, Death by Numbers SONG "BODYBAG TIME"
CRUNCHING LOUDLY as we CRANE DOWN to the CRUSHED TOWTRUCK.  No one could have
survived.  No one did.

CONTINUE CRANING DOWN into the GROUND.  MUSIC grows muted, finally fades out
completely as we PASS THROUGH MILES of ROCK at HIGH SPEED until we break free
into...


ANGLE ON - HELL!

As far as the eye can see, TORTURED SOULS carry burning rocks across a huge burning
cave so that MORE TORTURED SOULS can carry them back as...

Tinny RAP MUSACK plays.  Elevator versions of RAP CLASSICS like "Whoop There it
Is."  High up on a red rock cliff is a single window.  The Main Office.  And high
above...

A small hole in HELL's CEILING.  It swells open as a contorted image becomes DUB's
and BUD's CRACKLING SPIRITS spewing out the bottom of the gopher hole into Hell.

Their SPIRITS dance together, come apart, re-attach, all the while crashing around
the room, dipping into eternal flames, with little YIPS and OUCHES at each dip,
coming...

CLOSE TO US where we can see their spirit faces still scrunched, then zooming FAR
AWAY as they whoosh around and finally head for that single, lit office window
where...


INT. THE HEAD OFFICE

A DBN song plays: "Hell is for Real Men 'Cause Hell is for Real, Man!"  LOUD.  
Decor is Early Gothic Torture.  As...

BUD & DUB BLOB ZAPS in, shrieks horribly, SPARKING, tears apart and drops BUD and
DUB in front of a HUGE, ORNATE, more or less DISGUSTING OOZING DESK, behind which
sits a similar quasi-human beastly form, known as...

                              SATAN
              Hi, fellas.

You can tell by the name plaque that reads:  Satan.  And the toothy, oozing smile,
and of course the horns.  One scaly knee crossed over the other, he emery-boards
his front claws, casually.  BUD & DUB share a look.  Then:

                              BUD & DUB
              Hi.

SATAN points a spiny, yellow fingernail at BUD's arm where a "Satan Rules" tattoo
stands out prominently.

                              SATAN
              Nice tats.

                              BUD
              Thanks.  I did 'em myself.

                              SATAN
              I never would've guessed.

                              DUB
              Wait.  I did the that devil on your
              butt, man.  You couldn't reach.

                              BUD
              That's right you did.  I forgot.  
              But I did this one.

Rolls up his sleeve to show goofy looking devil.  SATAN leans closer to it.  
Scowls, then smiles a horrific smile.

                              SATAN
              So, despite your artistic... limitations,
              you know who I am.

                              DUB
              We do?

                              SATAN
              Yesssss, you do.

Snake tongue darts.  BUD looks at Satan, then around the room.  Finally at the name
plaque on the desk.

                              BUD
              Sure, whatever you say... Stan.

SATAN snaps a quick look at the name plaque.  Then ROARS:

                              SATAN
              Not STAAAAAAANNNNNNNN!!!!

IT ECHOES TO THE ENDS OF HELL and back, blowing a powerful foul wind over the
Hayseeds which blows their metal-cuts nearly off their heads.  DUB cringes.

                              DUB
              Does the word Tic-Tacs ring a bell?

                              BUD
              Yeah, you better do something about
              that or I'm gonna puke.

Winces at DUB who grins.  They high five.  SATAN leans in.

                              SATAN
              You're... joking, right?

                              BUD
              No, man.  My churn's... churnin'.

                              SATAN
              I mean... Wait.... you don't know
              who I am, do you?
                      (they shrug)
              You have no idea.

They shake no.  SATAN crawls up on his desk, long slithery dragon tail swatting;
BUD and DUB have to duck to avoid it.  Clawed feet grip edge of the desk.  

SATAN leans over, bends toward their faces with one particularly nasty, oozing
eye.  A few hundred FLIES find it appealing, though.

                              SATAN
              Let me give you some clues:  You've
              worshipped me for years.

                              BUD
              Uh... Don Cornelius?!

                              DUB
              You've really let yourself go to hell, Don.

                              SATAN
              NOOOO!!  Well, YES!  But JUST THE
              HELL PART!  The REST IS NO, NO, NO,
              NO, NO!!! NOOOOOOO!!!

He acts hurt.  Then angry.  That roaring wind again.  DUB looks hurt while BUD is
looking greener.

                              BUD
              You know, now that I’m getting’ a good look…

                              SATAN
              Uh-huh.

                              DUB
              Yeah, the hair.

Hair?  Scales are more like it.  Satan looks up, wondering.

                              BUD & DUB
              Don KING!  Whoa!

Jumps off the desk, his fat, boil-covered legs undulating.  Walks around them,
posing, trying to jar their memories.

                              SATAN
              Look, try again.  Look at this profile,
              these teeth.

                              BUD
               Bobby Brown?

Opens his mouth like twenty feet wide to reveal row after row of GNARLY YELLOW
TEETH, dripping with goo.  SLAPS it shut so fast, some of the goo flaps onto BUD.

                              BUD
               I'm gonna barf, I'm warnin' ya!

                              SATAN
               No, no, no!  You never hurl down here!  
               That would give you relief from feeling
               like you're gonna hurl which would defeat
               the whole purpose of Hell! Where're you
               two morons from?

                              DUB
               Uh... Dumpkin?

                              SATAN
               No wonder!

ROARS FIRE and BRIMSTONE out a hundred feet, apparently singeing some doomed ones
who CRY OUT.  BUD & DUB still look baffled.  SATAN stops.  Scratches his head.

                              SATAN
               Let me see if I can make this a
               little easier for you.

Snaps his clawed fingers.  A SCREEN APPEARS showing DUB and BUD in the TOWTRUCK,
speeding after the limo.

                              SATAN
               This was you, two minutes ago.

                              BUD & DUB
               Uh-huh.

Nodding, remembering.  SATAN snaps the slide button.  It changes to a view of the
TOWTRUCK CRASHING.

                              SATAN
               This was you one minute ago.

                              DUB & BUD
               Uh-huh...

Getting worried.  SATAN pauses, that eye goes wide.

                              SATAN
               And this is you... FOR THE REST
               OF ALL ETERNITY!!!!!

Snaps the little button and suddenly BUD & DUB are whisked up, slung crazily
through...

ROARING FIRES and...

A ROMAN VOMITORIUM and...

BOILING LAVA PITS and...

JUNIOR HIGH SCHOOL URINALS and...

Then they're returned to...


INT. SATAN'S OFFICE

Plunk.  They look at each other, totally horrified.

                              DUB
               Shit!

                              SATAN
                       (happy, now)
               Um-hmmmm.

                              BUD
               We're at fuckin' DISNEYWORLD!

They BOTH SCREAM BLOODY MURDER!  SATAN cringes.

                              SATAN
               NOOOOOOOO!!!!
                       (they stop)
               ... Close.  But no.

                              BUD
               Then where are we?

                              SATAN
                        (finally!)
               You're in HEELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!!!

This time the wind and breath go on for long moments before the finally stop,
leaving silence.  A long beat.  Then BUD bends over and... HURLS ALL OVER SATAN'S
FEET.  BUD looks up.  Shakes it off.  DUB reels a little.

                              DUB
               Dude! I paid a buck-oh-five for those
               six chilly corndogs with extra Cheesewhiz
               and Heinz sweet relish straight from our
               grocer's dairycase.

                              BUD
               Sorry, Dub.  Next ones are on me.

                              DUB
               Yeah, these are on him.

They laugh.  SATAN looks at them, then down at the steaming pile on his craggy
feet.  Lifts one.  It glops and strings.

                              SATAN
               Maybe I made a mistake.  Adolph!

BUD and DUB look down at their zippers self-consciously.

                                      DUB
               How'd you know what we named...

SATAN rolls his eyes as... HITLER rushes in, goosestepping.

                              HITLER
               YAWOL, YOUR HOLY HELLNESS!

                              SATAN
               Would you quit brown-nosing!  
               It's been sixty years, already!

                              HITLER
               I'M SORRY!  PLEASE FORGIVE ME,
               YOUR SATANSHIP!  I'M NOT A PEOPLE
               PERSON, YOU KNOW!  SIR!

                              SATAN
                       (rolls his eyes)
               I want a full 6-6-6 run on these two.

                              HITLER
               YAWOL, MEIN MASTER!  NAMES?

                              BUD
               Bud.

                              DUB
               Dub.

                              SATAN
               Jesus.

                              HITLER
                HIM TOO?  AGAIN, COMMANDANT?

                              SATAN
                NOOO!  GET OUT!!!

HITLER grovels, rushes away.  SATAN shakes his head.

                              SATAN
                He had such promise... You two go to
                reception and... wait.

                              DUB
                Okay, Stan.

                              SATAN
                SAAATTTAANNNNN!

                              BUD
                Yeah, right.  Whatever.

Rolling their eyes, they step out into...


HALLWAY OUTSIDE SATAN'S OFFICE

View of Hell on one side, glassed-in Satan's office on the other. BUD & DUB walk
along, chatting, looking around at all the misery and eternal grief.  SATAN walking
along inside the glass, pacing them, peering out with curiosity.

                              BUD
                  I think he's tellin' the truth, Dub.  
                  I think we're in Hell.

                              DUB
                  I never thought it'd be so... big.

                              BUD
                  And hot.

                              DUB
                  Yeah, it's hotter than Dumpkin in August.

                              BUD
                  Oh yeah!  Much hotter.

                              DUB
                  Well, maybe not much hotter.  Just
                  kinda much hotter.

                              BUD
                  Yeah, kinda much hotter a little.

                              DUB
                  And maybe it smells worse, too.  
                  Like the dumpster out back'a your
                  dad's Dairy Dip.

                              DUB
                  Nothin' smells that bad.

They wrinkle their noses together.  SATAN just can't figure them out as they walk
past the end of the office and he runs into the wall.  WE STAY with BUD and DUB as
there is a tremendous BOOOOM! and chunks of Office Wall blow past.

                              DUB
                  I kinda like that Stan, guy, though.  
                  His tail is cool.

                              BUD
                  Yeah.  He should do something about
                  that breath, though.

                              DUB
                  Yeah!  I haven't seen you barf like
                  that since we made you eat cow shit
                  in 3rd grade.

                              BUD
                  It was a pretty big puddle'a hurlcheese,
                  wasn't it, Dub?

                              DUB
                  You may have set a record, Bud.  
                  We'll have to check it out in that book,
                  soon as we learn to read a little faster.

                              BUD
                  Yeah.  Dub... you think he really is Satan?

They stop, suddenly.  Eyes wide as they remember...

                              BUD
                  Stan...

                              DUB
                  Say-tan...

                              BUD & DUB
                  It's HIM!!!

They high five.  Never happier.

                              BUD
                  Wait'll we tell everyone back home
                  we went to Hell and met Satan!

                              DUB
                  They'll worship at our feet forever.

                              BUD
                  And we won't even have to try to eat
                  a live chicken, again!

Double high-five.  They go off with snaps in their steps.