FADE IN EXT. EARTH FROM SPACE An asteroid tumbles through space. We follow the rock as it hurtles towards the blue globe. North America comes clear, and closer still, and the asteroid, still tumbling, begins to glow and flare as it punches through the atmosphere. Coming in towards the south central U.S, and the meteor is now flaming, burning, chunks crumbling off... It’s plummeting towards TEXAS, through the layers of clouds. Over a vast dry prairie a FRONTIER TOWN takes shape, a sprawl of crude buildings. And the rock is plunging down now on a FIGURE running down the main avenue. The asteroid is FRACTURING, SPINNING, COMING APART... EXT. OLD WEST STREET - DAY WHOOMP! Something hits the ground in an explosion of dust. It’s a BOY, about 12, tripped up in his rush. He scowls and leaps up, beats the dirt from his clothes and continues running down the main street of SAN LORENZO... not noticing the slightly smoking MICRO- CRATER behind him. He runs past the town’s commercial establishments: the STABLE, the PHARMACY, the GENERAL OUTFITTER’S, the UNDERTAKER, LAND TITLES, the CHINESE LAUNDRY... A rising wind whips the prairie dust through the town in sheets and swirls. Through the haze the boy at last comes to the DRY GOODS. EXT. STORE - DAY The boy runs up to the door, where a stocky older man, GREERSON, waits. He gives the boy a heavy-lidded glare. GREERSON Why aren’t you at your chores, boy? PATRICK They’re here, Pa! GREERSON Who? PATRICK The gunfighters from the city! Missus Miller got a collection together and-- GREERSON Those damn fools! PATRICK But Pa, the Sheriff-- GREERSON We got things worked out with the Sheriff! The last thing San Lorenzo needs are some hired saddle-scum raising a... a ruckus... Greerson trails off as FIGURES loom out of the dustclouds behind Patrick. They’re FOUR GUNMEN, bleached of color by the sandstorm. The leader is a good-looking BLOND MAN with piercing blue eyes, who smiles coldly at Greerson. Greerson YANKS his boy back by the ear as the four begin their advance up the street. INT. UNDERTAKER’S OFFICE - DAY STEWART THE UNDERTAKER, a young man with spectacles and a distracted air, is preparing a body while the wind whispers and howls outside. His ‘store’ is cluttered and multi-functional. The sign in his window advertises UNDERTAKER, BARBER SHOP, TELEGRAPH and LADY’S MANICURES. Amid the gear of his various trades are THREE COFFINS propped upright with well-dressed CORPSES in them. The BODY Stewart’s dealing with currently is a middle- aged man dressed in his Sunday best. Stewart unclenches the corpse’s hands and levers the stiff arms into peaceful repose. He opens a drawer and removes a set of paints and makeup, moves up to the face and FROWNS: there’s a big BULLET- HOLE in the forehead. He half-heartedly dusts color onto the corpse’s face. STEWART (fretting) Oooh, open casket, I don’t know... From outside comes the sound of heavy boots on wood. Stewart looks up to see the FOUR GUNMEN WALK PAST his front window. He blinks and his mouth works silently... then he abruptly RUNS OUT the back. INT. APPLEJACK SALOON AND INN - DAY A sawdust joint with a dozen tables, ringed around with barrels of the powerful cider the place is named for. A sign by the stairs reads: “SHEETS CHANGED NIGHTLY ONCE EVERY SIX MONTHS - OFTENER IF NECESSARY.” PEGGY, a tough young woman in men’s pants and suspenders, is tending bar, though there’s not much going on: a dozen cowboys and townsmen drinking quietly at their tables as the wind bangs the swinging doors to and fro. OSCAR, a sloppy drunk at the bar, slams his glass down. OSCAR This ain’t the reg’lar! I paid my twenny cents for REAL WHISKY. Ye bin waterin’ down the drinks ever since yer uncle died, you cheap, low-down, drink-waterin’ b-- Peggy SMASHES HIM IN THE FACE, knocking him to the floor. She takes a gulp of his whiskey, raises an eyebrow... then downs the rest of it. She picks up a bottle of expensive JACK DANIEL’S from behind the bar and frowns. PEGGY Sorry Oscar. My mistake. Oscar heaves himself up as Peggy exchanges the Jack Daniel’s for a DIRTY GALLON JAR of CLOUDY BROWN FLUID. She refills Oscar’s glass with the disgusting stuff. Oscar timidly gets up in his chair and takes a swig. OSCAR Thanks Peg. Yer a sweetie. Suddenly STEWART comes bursting in from the back of the saloon. Panting, he rushes up to the bar. STEWART Peggy... She gives him a bored sidelong glance. STEWART (cont’d) Peggy, you have to get out... Stewart blushes. He’s got an all-too-apparent crush on Peggy. PEGGY I’m busy, Stewart. STEWART (hushed) This is i-i-important. I think... As Stewart stammers away, a tall shadowy figure looms up behind him. HULKING FIGURE Gravedigger. Stewart freezes in fear and sudden recognition. He turns around slowly to confront the speaker, a huge bearded man with a GLINTING SILVER STAR pinned to his coat. He looks down at Stewart through humorless blue eyes. STEWART Sh-Sheriff. SHERIFF That’s my seat, gravedigger. STEWART S-sorry, Sheriff. Stewart clambers out of his chair and moves several seats down. The Sheriff steps up to the bar. SHERIFF Gin. STEWART Peggy... SHERIFF (without looking) That seat’s taken, gravedigger. STEWART Sorry, Sheriff, I-- SHERIFF That one too. STEWART I just need to talk to Peggy for a-- The Sheriff still hasn’t looked over at Stewart. He does now, and Stewart gulps to a stop. The Sheriff takes a slug of his gin and gives Peggy a cruel half-smile. Stewart hesitates, begins backing away towards the door, still trying to catch Peggy’s eye. SHERIFF (to Peggy) I reckon there’s gotta be a reason you ain’t paid your liquor tax this month. I wouldn’t wanna see you come to any misfortune. Like your uncle. Something unsaid passes between them. The Sheriff’s half- smile widens, and Peggy’s face drains of expression. PEGGY You’ll get the money, Morton. Stewart hears something, turns-- and the saloon doors burst open as the FOUR GUNMEN WALK IN. EXT. BACKYARD OF STABLE - DAY Patrick is shoveling manure out back of the stable. He can see townspeople slowly migrating towards the Applejack, scared and excited. Hesitating, he holds up the shovel... then, cursing under his breath, returns to his chore. He heaves a load of dung into the straw, stops to wipe his brow. Squints out at the prairie past the town limits. Way out there, appearing and vanishing in the waves of heat and dust, is a RIDER. INT. APPLEJACK SALOON - DAY Everyone turns to stare as the GUNMEN walk in. Stewart stumbles to the side as they walk past him, fanning out behind the Sheriff. BLOND GUNMAN Like a word with you, Sheriff Morton. SHERIFF (bored, without turning) Can it wait? I’m drinkin’ here. BLOND GUNMAN Figure you’ve been extortin’ money, abusin’ your office, and terrifyin’ the citizenry just about long enough, Sheriff. So no. I don’t reckon it can. EXT. BACKYARD OF STABLE - DAY Patrick stares into the distance as the RIDER approaches. Closer now, though still shadowed by the dust. Patrick squints, leans forward, the duststorm fails for a moment-- The shovel drops from his hand and clatters to the dirt. INT. APPLEJACK SALOON - DAY The Sheriff still hasn’t turned around. SHERIFF You marshals got a problem, take it up with the governor at Fort Worth. Figure I was elected fair enough. Right, Peggy? He gives Peggy a sly smile. BLOND GUNMAN We ain’t marshals. And we ain’t here to arrest you, Sheriff Morton. The Sheriff glances around out of the corner of his eye. In the windows he can see ANXIOUS TOWNSPEOPLE peering in. EXT. SAN LORENZO STREET - DAY LONG on the RIDER, as he comes through the sandstorm down the main avenue of San Lorenzo. He’s on a dark mule, a wide-brimmed sombrero and poncho concealing his features. He continues down the street, towards the Applejack, where people are crowded around the door and windows, looking in. A man in a suit and tophat comes bustling out of a store and FREEZES, mouth agape, as the Rider passes by. Patrick, gawking, trails behind. INT. APPLEJACK SALOON - DAY BLOND GUNMAN I wager you’re curious who we are, then. Well, I’d be Dave Madsen out of Missouri. Called Dangerous Dave Madsen by some, possibly as a joke, since I am kindly by nature. The others chuckle darkly. Dangerous Dave nods at a hulking man in furs with a huge bison rifle. DANGEROUS DAVE MADSEN That gent is King Fisher, late of Abilene, who by his own account has shot 4 white men, 8 Comanches, a dozen Navajos and about sixty-five hundred buffalo. Give or take an Indian or two. Next he nods at a gaunt grey-eyed figure. DANGEROUS DAVE MADSEN (cont’d) And this would be Liver Eating Johnson, so called on account of the incident up in Wyoming where he killed and et an entire scout troop during the winter of ‘75. Or so it is alleged. Liver Eating Johnson grins widely, exposing rotten teeth. Dangerous Dave jerks his head in the direction of the last gunman, a long-haired man in ancient Union blues. DANGEROUS DAVE MADSEN (cont’d) And finally over here is my friend-- As he speaks, the Sheriff finishes his gin and claps the glass down on the bar. SHERIFF Done drinkin’. And he reaches with both hands into his coat, where he has a CROSS-DRAW RIG with TWO HUGE COLT REVOLVERS. He comes around in his seat with both guns out and FIRES. The long-haired gunman and Liver Eating Johnson GO DOWN INSTANTLY. The other two fire in a panic. Bottles EXPLODE and WOOD CHIPS FLY. Peggy DIVES to the floor and Stewart CRINGES into a corner. Oscar grabs the gallon jar of whiskey as he scrambles away under a table. King Fisher tries to raise his huge rifle, but the Sheriff grabs the barrel and pushes it down, then brings up a revolver and BLASTS him. Meanwhile, Dangerous Dave has panicked. He fumbles with his pistol-- and the Sheriff turns and coolly SHOOTS HIM THROUGH THE HEART. The saloon is cloudy with gunsmoke. No one speaks. The long-haired gunman groans on the floor. Outside, the sandstorm gives one last howl and then dies down. SHERIFF (cont’d) Didn’t catch your name there, boy. WOUNDED MAN ... they call me... Big French ... The Sheriff pokes the muzzle of a pistol --bonk bonk-- against the back of Big French’s head. But he looks up and addresses his comments to the onlookers. SHERIFF (cont’d) I’m hoping you boys are just a bunch of trail trash. I’m hoping you all ain’t assassins hired by the bad elements of San Lorenzo for the purpose of putting an end to my lawful tenure. The townspeople looking in through the windows have very unhappy expressions. The Sheriff turns his glare to the bar and finds Stewart cringing there. GLANTON Gravedigger. You seemed to have something to say about something when you come in here. STEWART No -- no I didn’t. Stewart steps back. Sensing even more trouble, Oscar comes up from behind a table with the gallon jar, and DODGES OUT the front door. EXT. OLD WEST STREET - DAY Oscar edges out the doors, still looking back, bumping into a crowd of onlookers outside who are now all looking DOWN THE STREET. He turns to the street and raises the gallon jar to his mouth-- And his eyes GO WIDE AS SAUCERS. INT. APPLEJACK SALOON - DAY A CRASH of glass as Oscar drops the gallon jar outside. Ching, ching, ching of spurs... and BOOTS appear below the saloon doors. NOTHING appears above. Everyone looks as the doors SWING OPEN. Looks of shock, surprise. Total silence. Even the Sheriff looks up and BLINKS TWICE. The boots step into the saloon, make their way towards the bar. A seated man watches in amazement as a SOMBRERO goes by... just below his eyeline. There’s a squeak as the stranger pulls out a stool. A HAND, chalk white, with only TWO FINGERS and a thumb, reaches up onto the bar. With a nimble hop, the stranger pops up standing onto the stool. He’s an ALIEN. An ALIEN IN A COWBOY OUTFIT. His skin is chalk white. His head is ENORMOUS, his eyes are HUGE, BLACK, and SLANTED. He wears a big SOMBRERO, a PONCHO and a GUNBELT. He’s four feet tall. He puts a quarter on the bar and makes a series of WEIRD SQUEAKING NOISES. Peggy stares down in blank horror. Annoyed, the Alien fiddles with a little SILVER BOX hanging around its neck. When it speaks again, lights flash on the box and recognizable English comes out. ALIEN Whiskey. And a cigar. Peggy is dazed. ALIEN (cont’d) Whiskey, and a cigar. Now. Peggy snaps out of it. She pours a shot and pulls a cigar from a nearby jar. The Alien takes them, turns to face the saloon. He picks up the cigar, chomps off the end, and spits it out. Then he EATS THE WHOLE CIGAR, which he washes down with whiskey. Then he spreads his hands out and addresses the whole room, his voice BOOMING with authority. ALIEN All right, Texans, listen up! My name is Four, I’m from outer space, and starting now if you want to live you do exactly as I say, understand? Dead silence. The Alien (Four) glances around, but meets only the blank, astonished stares of the townspeople. FOUR Is there anyone in authority here? SHERIFF Gravedigger! All eyes go to the Sheriff. The Sheriff leans back contemplatively, rubs his chin. Big French, seeing his chance, crawls out the door. STEWART Y- yes, Sheriff? SHERIFF Is that thing a bug, or some kind of beetle? STEWART I don’t-- don’t think it’s a bug, Sheriff, and a beetle is a kind of bug, so-- The Sheriff silences him with a glare, and turns back to Four. FOUR So you’re Primarch around here, I take it. Fine. Take me to the communication centre. Oscar, who’s sidled back in, pipes up. OSCAR I seen sumthin like that in Buffalo Bill’s travellin’ show. Floatin’ in a jar. They said it was some kinda... idjit freak baby. The Sheriff puts his guns away and moves in on the Alien. Since Four’s standing on a stool, they’re almost eye-to- eye. SHERIFF That what you are? Some kind of idjit freak baby? FOUR The words coming out of this box, do they mean anything to you? Hellloo? SHERIFF Let’s get a look at you. He reaches for Four’s hat, but Four angrily SWATS HIS HAND AWAY. FOUR Paws off, mammal! The Sheriff’s face darkens. He leans forward. Peggy senses the pending violence, sidles back. The Sheriff KICKS THE STOOL OUT from under Four, who crashes to the floor. The silver TRANSLATOR BOX comes loose and skids across the floor to Oscar’s feet. He picks it up and shakes it. The Alien is on the ground, but unhurt. He glances to the side, sees Oscar with the box, then snaps a look back to the Sheriff. He warily climbs to his feet. With his hat knocked off, the Alien’s head is ENORMOUS and OVOID, bleach-white and hairless. His eyes are HUGE and INSECTLIKE. He sure is an ALIEN. People GASP. There’s a girlish twitter, and a COWBOY in the corner swoons and crumples to the floor. SHERIFF It’s like some... some kinda fish. OSCAR An idjit fish! SHERIFF Gravedigger, ain’t there a statute in this town against bein’ a squeakin’ baby beetle bug boy FISH? STEWART I-- I’m not sure, Sheriff... SHERIFF Well, if there ain’t there oughta be. The Sheriff DRAWS HIS GUNS and holds them at his side. Chairs scrape as the bar denizens try to slide back out of the line of fire. The Sheriff cocks the hammers on his guns. SHERIFF (cont’d) Had four shootings today, might as well make it-- PZOW! There’s a FLASH and both the Sheriff’s guns FLY OUT OF HIS HANDS. THE ALIEN, guns out --and they’re WEIRD GLOWING LASERS. There’s a slight electrical BUZZ as they recharge. SHERIFF (cont’d) -- five. The Sheriff is stunned. He didn’t see the draw. There WAS NO DRAW. Just a blur. The Sheriff reaches for his guns, and PZOW! the guns fly up into the air, PZOW! they bounce back towards the doors, PZOW! PZOW! PZOW! they are finally SHOT CLEAN OUT UNDER THE SALOON’S SWINGING DOORS. The Alien spins his guns. Then - blur! -his hands are empty and his guns are in their holsters. Dead silence. Then, Stewart, who just can’t help himself, blurts out: STEWART W.. w.. WOW! For once, all eyes are on him. He quails under the glare. STEWART (cont’d) Well it WAS! With a flick of his wrist, the Alien plucks the TRANSLATOR BOX out of Oscar’s limp hand and hangs it around his neck. The Alien points at Stewart. FOUR HEY EVERYBODY! HEY EVERYBODY! HEY! HEY! HEY NOW! The Alien clicks and squeaks, pulls the Translator from his neck and angrily starts to fiddle with it. The Sheriff, red-faced and furious, moves to the exit. He glares around at the townspeople inside and at the windows. When he speaks, it’s in a low, dangerous voice. SHERIFF I ain’t done here. And he stomps out. The townsmen in the bar look nervously at each other. TOWNSMAN #1 Well, figger I, I oughta get back to the feed store. TOWNSMAN #2 Best be about my business before Sally wonders where I’m at... TOWNSMAN #3 Too early for drinkin,’ really... Clunk of chairs and slide of boots as people mosey towards the exit. Four looks up from his translator, sees that people are leaving. Holds his hands up-- no-- starts to click at them, but they don’t understand. Click, click-click, the Alien gets more frantic, turns, jumps up on the bar and starts CLICKING AND SQUEAKING AT THEM as they exit. PEGGY HEY! Get the hell off the bar, mister! Four ignores her, still clicking and clacking as the last few stragglers duck out, leaving the doors swinging. It’s only Four, Peggy and Stewart in the bar now. PEGGY (cont’d) Your ass, off the bar, now! Four stares out the door in frustration, SQUEAKING and CLICKING furiously. PEGGY (cont’d) Hey! Finally he turns to her, and she PUNCHES HIM RIGHT OFF THE BAR. Four FLIES BACK and CRASHES ONTO A TABLE, shattering glasses and knocking mugs off onto the floor. STEWART What are you doing??! PEGGY No climbin’ up on the bar, Stewart. You know that. Four groans, sits up. He shakes his head, dazed, then looks to Stewart and Peggy. Stewart shrinks back. STEWART Please, Mister, don’t kill her. Four coughs, then turns his attention back to the Translator. Peggy grabs a broom and starts to sweep up the broken glass behind the bar. STEWART Wh- what should we do? PEGGY I’m doin’ it. You could make yourself useful by taking out those dead fellas. I ain’t plannin’ to frame ‘em or nothing. STEWART But what about the, the... the fish? He gestures towards Four. The alien looks up, clicks, and goes back to fiddling with the translator. PEGGY Looks like he’s takin’ care of himself just fine. Stewart sags onto a stool, as Peggy ambles around in front of the bar to sweep up more debris. STEWART You know, the Sheriff’s probably just gone out to the Bar-T to pick up Glanton and the rest of his deputies. PEGGY I know it. STEWART W-well, what’s gonna happen when he comes BACK? PEGGY The usual. You’ll sell a few more pine boxes and I’ll sell a lot more liquor. There’s an electronic ZORP! sound from the translator. FOUR Finally! He puts the Translator around his neck again, and faces Stewart and Peggy. He points at Stewart. FOUR Take me to the communications setup. STEWART Communications setup? FOUR Look, you HAVE this technology on Texas! Electricity? Wires? Transmitted messages? PEGGY Is he talking about your telegraph, Stewart? Stewart gives her a pained glance. FOUR Telegraph, yes! Take me there! STEWART I’m gonna be busy for a while here-- BLUR! Four’s guns are in his hands, pointed at Stewart. STEWART (cont’d) But I can send a message for you, sure, no problem! EXT. SAN LORENZO STREET - DAY Stewart reluctantly leads Four down the street, while townspeople swiftly duck away into doorways -- then peek out once they’ve passed. Behind them, Patrick follows, eyes bright. STEWART I hope you’re not too mad at Peggy for punchin’ you in the head and all. She does that to everybody. Four scans the buildings, checking them appraisingly, and doesn’t respond. Stewart coughs. STEWART (cont’d) Nobody’s ever outgunned the Sheriff like that, mister. How’d you get so fast? FOUR I’m a super-advanced lifeform. Patrick bounces up beside Four, grabs him by the arm and stops him like he would another kid. They’re almost eye- to-eye. Stewart fearfully reaches for Patrick, but sees that Four is curiously looking the boy over. PATRICK You sure are funny-lookin’, Mister. FOUR I’m an alien. PATRICK What’s an alien? Four rolls his eyes heavenwards. PATRICK You gonna kill the Sheriff? FOUR Not if I don’t have to. PATRICK I’ll help ya. He’s crooked as can be, but nobody’s got the guts to-- FOUR Look, I’m not here to sort out your local mammal disputes. You’re helping ME save your stupid world. STEWART But what about the Sheriff? FOUR How much of this is getting through to you? Do you understand I’m from a another planet? STEWART What, like the moon? FOUR Texan, there’s a Class 3 Colonizer on the way. I’ve got to put together a defense in six days or we’re all finished. STEWART See, I’m not getting any of that. FOUR Your monkey Sheriff is irrelevant. PATRICK He’s gonna be back in a couple hours with two dozen mean drunk cowboys off the Bar-T. Gonna start lookin’ rellervant to you then, mister moon. FOUR If he comes back, I’ll handle him. PATRICK Really? FOUR Of course. I don’t have time to waste. I’ve got a war to prepare. STEWART Uh, here’s my store. You hurry along home now, Patrick. Patrick gives Stewart a contemptuous glare... but he turns away as they enter Stewart’s storefront. INT. UNDERTAKER’S OFFICE - DAY Four and Stewart enter the office. Stewart starts sorting through the clutter for the telegraph machine. Four ponders the corpse laid out on the table, poking it. STEWART Er, who exactly did you want to send a message to? FOUR Direct it to the supreme military commander of Texas forces. STEWART The governor? Well, all right... INT. FORT WORTH TELEGRAPH OFFICE A neat, professional building. Outside the bustle of the city can be seen. The TELEGRAPH OPERATOR, a white-bearded old man, is servicing a dapper young British gentleman, HERBERT, in a dark suit with a bowler hat. TELEGRAPH OPERATOR That’ll be a quarter. HERBERT Very well, send the following to the Times of London, attention the editor. Have arrived in Fort Worth as per assignment-- The teletype begins clacking suddenly and the operator turns back to it. TELEGRAPH OPERATOR Just a minute, sir. The operator bends over the telegraph and begins reading, scribbling out the message. He starts to CHUCKLE, then LAUGH hysterically. Herbert taps his fingers on the counter in annoyance. The operator pulls the tape message from the machine, still LAUGHING, and begins to send a message back, TAP TAP TAP. Herbert steps over and picks the message up from the floor. He reads it with interest. An English eyebrow goes up, way up. INT. UNDERTAKER’S OFFICE - DAY Stewart reads the tape as it comes out of the telegraph. STEWART (doubtfully) Governor alerted, stop. Seventh cavalry on its way post-haste, stop. FOUR Finally! Intelligence! He turns and walks out of the store. The telegraph CHATTERS AGAIN, and Stewart rips out the new message. STEWART (continuing to read) Can’t drink on the job up here, stop. Have one for me, stop. INT. STORE - DAY Greerson’s feed store, a tidy straightforward frontier establishment. Greerson is berating Patrick. GREERSON Now we’re in for it. Didn’t I say so? PATRICK That little feller seemed to be handlin’ himself okay. GREERSON Oh, I’m sure we’ll all be doin’ okay when the Sheriff comes back with Glanton and the rest. Four KICKS THE DOOR OPEN and enters. ALIEN Heads up Texans --there’s work to do! GREERSON I ain’t going nowhere with no critter like you! PZOW! A mug jumps three feet in the air. Four’s pistol CRACKLES slightly. ALIEN Not a request. EXT. SAN LORENZO STREET - DAY Approaching sundown. A dozen or so townspeople mill around in confusion as Four BARKS WEIRD ORDERS at them. Most are carrying rifles or shotguns with no great enthusiasm. An assortment of half-started wooden constructions are lying about all over the place along with piles of lumber and less identifiable debris. ALIEN NO! I said we need firing platforms THERE, THERE and THERE, not all clumped together over THERE! And you, is that supposed to be a blast shield? It’ll have to be THREE TIMES that thick! Blue group, where are those mirrors I asked for? STEWART Uh, scuse me... uh, mister... what is all this supposed to be FOR agin? ALIEN How many times do I have to explain this? When the Colonizer makes planetfall, we’ll need a distributed set of firing platforms to create a focused channel of attack. STEWART Yeah, that’s what I thought. Stewart shakes his head and heads into the Applejack. ALIEN And I’m hungry! Get me more cigars! INT. APPLEJACK SALOON - DAY Stewart wanders over to the bar where Peggy is still cleaning up the mess from the gunfight earlier. Outside, Four’s shouted orders are audible. STEWART That lil feller sure has a lot of funny ideas. Peggy nods glumly and hands Stewart a glass of whiskey and a fistful of cigars. STEWART I’ve been thinking, Peggy... what if he’s right about... whatever it is he’s talking about? PEGGY Best to mind your own business. She yawns, unties her hair and stretches. Stewart watches sidelong and GULPS. STEWART Um, Peggy... She looks over as she reties her hair with a bored expression and HOCKS A LOOGIE into a nearby spittoon. PEGGY Yeah, what? Stewart reddens and turns away. STEWART Nothing. EXT. SAN LORENZO STREET - DAY Stewart emerges from the Applejack and hands Four his fistful of cigars. There’s a rumbling cloud of dust on the horizon. The townspeople stop their work and stare off into the distance. Four berates them. FOUR What kind of defilade is that? I want a clear column of fire from BOTH the-- He notices the cloud... Sounds of HOOTS, SHOUTS and YELLS can be heard in the distance. FOUR (cont’d) I’m impressed. I didn’t expect your cavalry to get here so quickly. STEWART Mister, that ain’t the cavalry. EXT. PRAIRIE - DAY The Sheriff and two dozen grizzled, drunken cowboys, all wearing DEPUTY’S BADGES, are riding down on San Lorenzo with rifles. PISTOLS fired wildly into the air. WHOOPS and bloodcurdling YELLS. And at the head the Sheriff rides with a grim smile. EXT. SAN LORENZO STREET - DAY The townspeople begin to look at each other and their guns uneasily. Patrick runs forward, tugs on Four’s poncho. PATRICK What’re you gonna do now? FOUR This shouldn’t take long. Four pushes Patrick back and steps forward. Greerson, sweaty with terror, yells at Patrick. GREERSON Boy! You-- you get back over here right now! Four nods. Patrick rolls his eyes and saunters back to his father. The posse ROARS into town and down the street towards the alien, WHOOPING AND HOLLERING. Four stands his ground, facing them, arms folded. The Sheriff, in the lead, pulls hard on the reins, and his horse rears up and halts. The others slow and stop, fanning out into a half-circle around Four. The cowboys’ rifles are out... and all are pointed at Four. TWO DOZEN THUGS facing a SINGLE GUNMAN. Who’s four feet tall. The rumble of hooves dies away. The Sheriff holds his rifle loosely across his lap. He calls over Four’s head to the townspeople trying to duck away behind him. SHERIFF I got two orders of business tonight! One is to find out who hired them bounty killers I perforated in the saloon. And two is to enforce the newly-established no-idjit-bug-boy bylaw. Four draws himself up and steps forward. FOUR Didn’t I kick your ass already? The townspeople look up, down, to the sides, shuffle sheepishly. The Sheriff scans the crowd and smiles. SHERIFF I don’t know how good them freaky eyes o’ yours work, idjit boy, but I got you outnumbered by about two dozen to one half. BLUR! Four’s guns are drawn, aimed at the Sheriff. The cowboys, who weren’t at the saloon, gasp in astonishment and grip their guns tighter. FOUR Last chance. The Sheriff chuckles. Four frowns. And STOPS COLD as a SHOTGUN presses into his back. Behind Four is GREERSON, face twisted with fear and rage. GREERSON You ain’t gettin’ ME killed, ya little freak. Patrick watches his father with a stricken look. GREERSON (shouting) Those other gunfighters were his pals! TOWNSMAN #2 And he was makin’ us build all this stuff too! SHERIFF Best be dropping them guns, idjit boy. Four, guns still trained on the Sheriff, looks carefully back at Greerson, then around at the fearful crowd. Back to the Sheriff and his posse. All guns, including the townspeople’s, are POINTED AT HIM. FOUR (growing frantic) I’m trying to save your worthless lives, Texans! A tense silence as he glares at the crowd. Slowly, teeth gritted, he opens his hands and lets the two laser pistols PLOP onto the dusty street. Four gazes up at the Sheriff and RAISES HIS HANDS. SHERIFF Well, it does my heart good to see the community come together like this. Long as we got all this lumber out here, I figure we might as well make a night of it. Glanton? Glanton rides forward, the biggest, meanest, most loutish of the louts. GLANTON Sheriff? SHERIFF Fetch a rope. EXT. SAN LORENZO STREET - NIGHT It’s a LYNCHING PARTY. Four is up on a horse with a noose around his neck, attached to a makeshift GALLOWS in the middle of the street. The townspeople and deputies stand around in a circle with lanterns. Stewart and Peggy watch from the door of the Applejack. STEWART We have to do something! Funny looking freak or not, he doesn’t deserve to get hung! PEGGY It ain’t nothing to do with you, Stewart. Four wriggles uncomfortably, his hands bound behind his back. FOUR We don’t have time for this, Texans! You’re all going to die! GLANTON Reckon we’re about ready, Sheriff. SHERIFF Proceed. Glanton spits in his hands, rubs ‘em together, and winds up to slap the horse’s hindquarters-- STEWART Wuh... wuh... wait! Everyone looks over at Stewart. He quails under the combined gaze, but gulps, glances back towards the astonished Peggy, and moves forward. STEWART (cont’d) Wait! This, uh, feller never did anything but defend himself. Shouldn’t we at least, uh... have a trial or something? SHERIFF Trial? You drunk or something, Gravedigger? Glanton, go. Glanton SMACKS the horse’s hindquarters, sending it galloping... Four DROPS and HANGS SWINGING BY THE NECK. A long moment passes as Four’s boots creak from side to side, and then-- FOUR Is this finished? Can we get back to building the fortifications now? SHERIFF Well, what the hell! Glanton! Glanton runs over and examines the Alien, then starts TUGGING on his boots. There’s a rumble of thunder overhead. FOUR Glk! If someone could-- glk!-- cut me down-- glk! Would you quit that? GLANTON We’re gonna need a bigger rope or something. Another rumble. SHERIFF I got another idea. Enraged, the Sheriff pulls out Four’s two LASER PISTOLS from his belt, aims and FIRES-- except nothing happens. Frustrated, he tries again, producing only a low ‘bloop’ sound. GLANTON Uh, Sheriff? SHERIFF What? But now he can see for himself... above San Lorenzo, in the night sky, there’s a weird disturbance. Oily black clouds roll across the sky, lit here and there with green flashes. THUNDER RUMBLES high overhead. Still hanging, Four shows fear for the first time. FOUR They’re early. GREEN LIGHTNING strafes the clouds as SOMETHING punches through and begins to descend. It’s very big and very black, and it seems to be coming down right on top of the town... Everyone looks up in awe and terror. The descending object has become clearer: it’s a HUGE BLACK MONOLITH, the same rough shape and size as a FIFTY- STOREY SKYSCRAPER, dropping towards them. BOOM! Lightning HAMMERS down from the bottom of the huge ship as it PLUNGES towards them, BLASTING into the ground at the end of the street! BOOM! BOOM! The townspeople rock back, flashbulb POPS of light and BLASTS of sound whipping their hair back. The skyscraper drops, drops, getting huger and huger, BOOM BOOM BOOM lightning blasting down, only a hundred feet above them, fifty, twenty-five... At TEN FEET it suddenly slows, and settles with a soft crunch into the sand at the end of the street, about twenty feet away from the awestruck townspeople. It’s HUGE. The BIGGEST THING these people have ever seen in their lives. The echoes of the thunder die away and suddenly it’s COMPLETELY SILENT, except for the breathing of the townspeople staring up at the ship. Then lights CRASH on at the top of the ship, and on down the front. They illuminate a GIGANTIC BILLBOARD with an ALIEN LOGO, twenty stories high. The lights flash on at the base, revealing an impressive set of steps leading up to a set of doors twenty feet high. The doors slide open, revealing THREE FIGURES. At first they’re indistinct... then the middle, tallest one strides forward, and the other two follow. They are three ALIENS. And they’re all wearing the STUPIDEST COWBOY OUTFITS IMAGINABLE. The middle Alien (PRIMARCH - ‘pry-mark’) is well over SIX FEET TALL. He wears a huge cowboy hat studded with diamonds and a rippling, iridescent vest. The second Alien (DUARCH - ‘doo ark’), on the right, is just over FIVE FEET TALL. He wears a tiny sombrero perched on the top of his ovoid head. The third Alien (TRIARCH - ‘try ark’), on the left, is also FIVE FEET TALL, wearing gigantic white cowboy boots. They descend the steps. The middle Alien spreads his long, lanky arms wide and grins. PRIMARCH Greetings, Texans! SHERIFF Great hairy balls o’ Jesus. Primarch snaps his fingers, and a silver TRUNK scuttles on THREE LEGS out from the ship and takes up position beside him. It features the Alien Logo prominently. The crowd shrinks back, except for the Sheriff. Primarch strolls up to him, the trunk following. They’re EYE to EYE. SHERIFF (cont’d) That’s a mighty fancy hat, mister. PRIMARCH You look like you’re in charge here. SHERIFF (thickly) That’s right. PRIMARCH Allow me to introduce myself. I am Primarch. These are my associates Duarch and Triarch. Duarch and Triarch tilt their hats. SHERIFF I ain’t afraid of no idjit freaks, even if you’re taller’n the other one. PRIMARCH Other one? CHA-CHAK! The sound of a SHOTGUN being cocked. Primarch makes a BLURRED GESTURE towards a device on his wrist, and a SHIELD of transparent material SPRINGS UP out of the TRUNK, as BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! -- three shotgun blasts RING OUT! All eyes turn to the direction of the blasts. Over on the Applejack porch railing, free of the noose, stands FOUR, who’s just emptied a shotgun at the newcomers. He cocks it, tries to fire, it jams -- and he THROWS IT with surprising strength at the three. It SMASHES against the shield. Frustrated, he YELLS at the crowd. FOUR Texans! Don’t listen to their lies! They’ll kill you all! Attack now! ATTACK!!!AAAAAATTAAAAAAAAAACCCCCK!!!!! The townspeople look at the Alien. They blink. FOUR (cont’d) See, that means “attack.” Duarch and Triarch both HAVE THEIR GUNS OUT, tensed, ready, aimed at Four. Primarch, on the other hand, suddenly relaxes. He CLICKS and SQUEAKS at Four. Four angrily CHIRPS and SQUEAKS back. Primarch interrupts him with a sharp CLICK, indicates Duarch and Triarch behind him, both of whom still calmly hold Four in their sights. Primarch, Duarch, and Triarch LAUGH, a weird tittering sound. Four has no response. SHERIFF Maybe you oughta start speakin’ American, mister. PRIMARCH Folks, I must apologize for the insane ramblings of our deranged brother Four. I don’t know what he’s been saying about melting you all down for biomaterial but I can assure you -- we’re just here to do business! SHERIFF Bio-what? PRIMARCH Business! He SLAPS the side of the trunk, and a DISPLAY CASE pops out, filled with OBJECTS and GOODIES. DUARCH What’ll it be? Who’d like an ELECTRICAL LIGHT? It’s yours! A DIGITAL TIMEPIECE? Take it! How about a CELLULAR TELECOMMUNICATOR? Here! Duarch tosses small objects out into the crowd, which starts to buzz in curiosity at the gadgets. PRIMARCH (cont’d) Wonders of every kind, and we’ve got more where that came from! SHERIFF You got anything besides doodads and gimcracks in there? PRIMARCH As a matter of fact... He quietly taps the trunk, and a small drawer slides out, filled with GOLD COINS. PRIMARCH (cont’d) I would imagine there are a number of fees and local permits to deal with. Maybe we should get those cleared up. SHERIFF Well, now you mention it, there’s a twenty-dollar fee for droppin’ a big square mountain at the end of the street. PRIMARCH Done. Primarch hands the Sheriff a handful of coins. SHERIFF And there’s a thirty-dollar license for that three-legged critter you got. PRIMARCH Anything else? SHERIFF What about your freaky troublemakin’ idjit boy there? We strung him up but he didn’t hang so good. PRIMARCH Four? I’d rather not kill him yet. SHERIFF Glanton! Take the idjit boy to the jail and lock ‘im in! PRIMARCH Triarch, escort them. FOUR They’ll kill you all, Texans! He hops down, and the deputies, along with Triarch, lead him away. Primarch stares thoughtfully after them, while Stewart and Peggy watch the whole thing in dismay. DUARCH (in Alien speech, subtitled) Shining One, we should kill him now. PRIMARCH (in Alien speech) He still has the Ovum. The Sheriff steps between them. SHERIFF Stop talkin’ French. And start talkin’ turkey. EXT. SAN LORENZO - DAY Morning, the next day. From a distance in the mid-morning light, San Lorenzo looks like any other sleepy little Old West town with a 50-storey alien skyscraper parked next to it. Cowboys drive cattle across the plain towards the town. INT. SHERIFF’S OFFICE AND JAIL - DAY The place is empty. Obviously it doesn’t get used much. In the morning light, Four stands on his bunk in the jail. He has his belt buckle off, and he scrapes with tiny fast movements--chickchickchick-- at the bars and rock of the small window in his cell. He grabs the bar he’s working on and tugs. He strains, and strains, and STRAINS, writhing and twisting and putting his feet up on the wall --but the bars don’t budge. His hands slip, and he CRASHES to the bunk. Glowering, he goes back to work --chickchickchick-- with the buckle. INT. UNDERTAKER’S OFFICE - DAY Stewart dusts color onto Dangerous Dave, who’s propped up, along with his two dead partners, in pine boxes along the walls. Outside through the open door there’s a fair bit of NOISE AND ACTIVITY, with cattle milling around and shouts from cowboys. Stewart looks outside, yawns, sticks his makeup brush behind his ear and pops out on the street. EXT. SAN LORENZO STREET - DAY Outside, it’s a busy scene: there’s a CATTLE DRIVE coming through town. Stewart simply stares up at the tower that still LOOMS ABOVE THE ENTIRE TOWN. Still staring, he stumbles into the street and is almost run down by a wagon piled high with kids, grandparents, and assorted belongings. The driver, JIM, a young Chinese man, reins in his horses. STEWART Jim! Where are you going? JIM I dunno about you, Stewart, but I’m getting the fuck outta here. Stewart steps aside as Jim chucks the reins and hauls ass down the street. Dazed, Stewart continues down the street towards the alien skyscraper, gawking like a tourist. At the end of the street, cows are milling in consternation, barely controlled by nervous cowboys. JEB, an old trail boss, is talking with the Sheriff. JEB So... where’d you say these fellers was from again? SHERIFF Uh. New York City. Now I wouldn’t be droppin’ my britches and bendin’ over near ‘em, but their money’s good... real good. The Sheriff hands Jeb a fat bag clinking with coins. Meanwhile, behind them, Duarch is flash-branding the alien logo onto the cows with a handheld gadget. Once branded, the cows are led up a ramp into the ship. INT. APPLEJACK SALOON - DAY Stewart pushes open the swing doors and enters. STEWART These new fish men are awful pecul-- He trails off as he sees that Peggy is standing at the bar talking with PRIMARCH. PRIMARCH So... four crates of whiskey, and three barrels of beer, and as many cigars as you have, and we’ll need them for this afternoon. PEGGY I’ll bring ‘em by about noon. PRIMARCH Stewart! Peggy tells me that you’ve got a printing press. STEWART She did? PRIMARCH How much to print posters and put ‘em up all over town by this afternoon? STEWART Uh... five dollars? PRIMARCH Do a good job and make it twenty. Here’s the specs. He hands Stewart a small palmtop computer, which lights up with various impressive graphics. PRIMARCH (cont’d) Come by the ship later with an invoice. And he’s gone out the swinging doors. Stewart looks down at the screen in his hand, shakes his head. STEWART They seem friendly. Peggy keeps wiping down the bar. PEGGY I sold a week’s worth of liquor for three times what it’s worth, so I ain’t complainin. STEWART Didn’t the other one say they were going to... kill us? PEGGY Stewart, if they were gonna kill us don’t you think they’d be doin’ it instead of buyin’ cows and holdin’ parties and paying you twenty dollars to make a bunch of handbills? An uncomfortable silence as they both think on it. INT. SHERIFF’S OFFICE AND JAIL - DAY Chickchickchick-- Four’s still at work with the buckle, and he’s made more progress. He glares at the work in frutration, his eyes deep and black, black as... EXT. COLONIZER IN SPACE ...SPACE, the giant black monolith in hyper-flight, the stars shifting to blue ahead of the craft and red behind. Planets zip by, pancake-flattened by relativity. Coming in closer, we see Four in a spacesuit clinging to the exterior of the craft. He’s CLEANING A WINDOW, behind which Primarch and the others can be seen, pointing to dirty spots and laughing. Tiny streaks of light-- micrometeorites-- streak by, occasionally glancing off the ship’s hull with a miniature explosion. One PUNCHES THROUGH Four’s spacesuit, BLOWING HIS LEFT ARM CLEAN OFF. Air instantly begins gushing out as Four applies an emergency patch in great terror, nearly coming unmoored from the craft. When he turns back to the window, Primarch indicates a smudge in the corner and makes scrubbing motions. INT. BEAST CHAMBER A filthy den in front of a set of huge steel doors. A weird TRIPARTITE SIGIL is emblazoned on the doors. Primarch, Triarch, and Duarch watch from a booth set high above the floor, while Four stands in the middle of the chamber, staring uneasily at the remnants of meat and bone all about. He has a BRAND NEW LEFT ARM, spindly and slightly pinkish, with various alien bandages and healing devices attached. PRIMARCH You know how to play ‘grobnat,’ don’t you, Four? Primarch tosses a small glowing device down into the chamber, near a dank recess clogged with bones. Four swallows... then creeps forward towards the bauble. Nasty GROWLING sounds come from the recess. Four DARTS forward, grabbing the bauble. Instantly a GIGANTIC WHITE CLAW lashes out, narrowly missing him as he dances back. Four rushes around the chamber, crying out. FOUR Grobnat! Open the door! Grobnat! Grobnat! Primarch and the others LAUGH merrily as Four rushes about the chamber, pursued by the howling unseen beast... INT. COLONIZER Four works on a control panel, not noticing Triarch peeking at him from the door. Giggling, Triarch presses a stud on his wrist computer, and Four flops to the floor, WRITHING IN AGONY. Triarch giggles, motions Duarch over. With Duarch watching, Triarch ZAPS Four again as he’s just getting to his feet. Duarch and Triarch guffaw, then Duarch hits HIS wrist stud and TRIARCH goes down. Duarch laughs harder. And gives FOUR another blast for good measure. INT. COLONIZER SLEEPING CHAMBER The four Aliens hover motionless in space under tiny glowing globes. A computer timer PINGS, and the globe over Four’s head darkens. He drifts to the floor and awakens. With a quick glance at the three dormant Aliens, he’s out the door. INT. ALIEN CONTROL ROOM In the darkened control room, Four nimbly extracts from the console a LARGE JEWEL-LIKE object, what looks like a palm-sized RUBY. INT. COLONIZER HALLWAY Four softly darts down the hallway, setting tiny bleeping MINES (with LOGO, of course) on the walls as he goes... An ALARM goes off. He looks up in horror and RUNS... EXT. MONOLITH IN SPACE A saucer-shaped shuttle BLASTS away from the monolith, which tumbles back, explosions rocking it inside and out. Laser beams reach out after the fleeing craft, but it gets beyond the hyperflight field and PING! -- the monolith pancake-flattens and zips away. The shuttle moves off through deep space and... INT. SHERIFF’S OFFICE AND JAIL - DAY The door rattles. Four snaps from his reverie, stuffs his hat in the bars to hide his work, and jumps down as the door swings wide, admitting Primarch and the Sheriff. PRIMARCH I appreciate your assistance on this matter, Sheriff, but what’s between us doesn’t concern you. SHERIFF Reckon I’ll be the judge of that. Primarch eyes the Sheriff for a moment, then shrugs and turns to Four. PRIMARCH So, Four --it seems the universe has brought us together again. FOUR So, Primarch --that outfit is completely gay. PRIMARCH Funny as always, Four. With a blurred motion Primarch pulls his gun and FIRES, lancing a pencil-beam of blue light THROUGH Four’s chest and the wall behind him. Four GASPS in pain, crashes to the floor. PRIMARCH Quit simpering. It’s hardly a vital organ. Clutching his wound, Four crawls back away from Primarch. PRIMARCH (cont’d) Where’s the Morphogenetic Ovum, Four? FOUR I don’t have it! Primarch blur-aims and FIRES again, spearing Four’s knee. Four grunts in pain. PRIMARCH Now that one’s sort of vital. The Ovum? Four digs in his shirt, pulls out the RUBY from the Alien Control room. He tosses it feebly at Primarch. PRIMARCH (cont’d) Sheriff, would you get that, please? SHERIFF Get it your own ass-lovin’ self. Primarch shoots a glance at the Sheriff, but retrieves the Ovum from the floor of the cell. PRIMARCH (cont’d) I heard about your comical attempt to turn the Texans against us. Always trying to be Primarch. Not as easy as it looks, is it? FOUR You try controlling these stupid creatures. PRIMARCH I’ll have them lining up for their own destruction. I was made to lead, Four. You were made to follow. Why do you struggle against this design? The Sheriff blinks a couple times during the ‘lining up for destruction’ part but doesn’t seem to make a connection. FOUR Uh. Because you keep torturing and maiming me for your own pleasure? PRIMARCH Oh, grow up. You call that torture? You can still speak coherently and control your bowels, can’t you? I’ve got to go now, but I’ll be back in a couple of hours to remedy that. We’ll start with the-- Nerve Flayer? Agony Gel? He looks to the Sheriff, who shrugs and nods approvingly... it all sounds good to him. EXT. SHERIFF’S OFFICE AND JAIL - DAY The Sheriff SLAMS the door behind himself and Primarch as they emerge onto the street. The street bustles with activity as young men, under the direction of Duarch, build firepits and set up tables outside in the street in front of the Alien Ship. Primarch starts to walk away, but the Sheriff grabs his arm. Primarch turns, glares at the Sheriff’s hand. The Sheriff glares right back. A moment, then Primarch softly relaxes. PRIMARCH Can I help you, Sheriff? SHERIFF I run this town. PRIMARCH Of course you do. SHERIFF I may not know half or any of what you were talking about in there, but I know this... you ain’t from New York, fag hat or no. PRIMARCH True. But there will be opportunities for resourceful individuals like yourself to thrive. SHERIFF I believe in thrivin’. Primarch gestures up at the giant spaceship. PRIMARCH (cont’d) Consider the possibilities. Let your ambition breathe a little. The Sheriff steps forward, gazes up at the enormous building blocking out the sky above him. Then turns back to Primarch. He pulls out Four’s laser pistols. SHERIFF First off, how do these goddam things work? EXT. SAN LORENZO STREET - DAY Stewart slaps some paste down on a wall and sticks up another poster. It reads: FREE FOOD! FREE BEER! SAN LORENZO MAIN ST ONE O’CLOCK! Courtesy of (the unrecognizable alien logo) The three aliens grin out from the poster, holding gadgets and plates of barbecue beef in their outstretched hands. Stewart wipes his brow in the hot sun, looks at the activity in front of the alien ship, then looks to Primarch and the Sheriff talking outside the Jail. They seem to come to some agreement, and go off towards the monolith. Stewart watches in suspicion and disapproval. INT. SHERIFF’S OFFICE AND JAIL - DAY Four’s tied a torn piece of bedding around his chest and knee as a bandage, and he chips at the window with brand- new desperation. Grabbing the bar again, he pulls, pulls, PULLS... ... and the bar SNAPS free in an explosion of dust! Four flies across the cell and lands in a heap. He looks at the bar in his hand in disbelief -- then springs up and goes to work on the window, now chiselling away with the broken piece of iron. And he JUMPS as Stewart’s head pops up outside the window. STEWART Hello? EXT. SHERIFF’S OFFICE AND JAIL - DAY Stewart’s outside standing on a barrel around the side of the Jail, peeking in the high window. INT. SHERIFF’S OFFICE AND JAIL - DAY STEWART Oh. Hey. What are you doing? Four glares at him, goes back to his chipping. STEWART Right, no, of course, you’re trying to escape. What do we do then? FOUR “We” don’t do anything. I try to make it back to my ship and see if I can get off this planet before it’s totally colonized. You get melted to goo in about four days. Four grips the bar he’s chipping at and PULLS. It budges, but it’s still fast. He keeps chiselling. STEWART What? Goo? How? FOUR Okay. See that big thing outside? That thing that landed last night? That’s a Colonizer. It lands, gathers up the nearest 1200 megagrams of living biomass, and spits it all out as clone slaves. Then they conquer the planet. STEWART Can’t you... can’t we stop them? FOUR Well, that was the plan. Of course, I made one crucial error --I forgot this town was full of cowardly Texan retards who don’t know an alien invasion vessel when it lands on top of them. STEWART People were scared. And you didn’t exactly go out of your way to be friendly either, mister. FOUR What do I have to do to get you to save your own stupid lives? Massage your pleasure glands? He grabs the bar again, hauls back, and with a quick grinding noise, it pops out of the window. PATRICK HEY! EXT. SHERIFF’S OFFICE AND JAIL - DAY Stewart turns and sees Patrick below him, fists balled on his hips and staring up at the window. PATRICK You sprung the fishman! FOUR I sprung myself. Four clambers up and squeezes out through the window. STEWART So --that’s it? You’re just going to leave us to die? FOUR Am I ever. You Texans had your chance and you blew it. Goodbye, mammals, and good luck. PATRICK But I thought... I thought you wanted us to help fight them! FOUR That was with a week of preparation, and the element of surprise. It’s tactically infeasible now. STEWART But aren’t you... super-advanced? Can’t you come up with something? Something really smart? FOUR And waste a perfectly good brilliant plan on you stinky apes? I think no. PATRICK It’s that big one, isn’t it? Primarch! You’re scared of him! FOUR Look, kid, I’ve got TWENTY TIMES as many nerves as you, and half of them are for making me suffer! YOU spend fifty years in a torture tank and then talk to me about ‘scared.’ PATRICK You’re a yellow-bellied sack of shit, just like my dad! Patrick lunges for Four, fists flying. With SURPRISING STRENGTH Four SHOVES him back in the dust. Stewart jumps in, restrains Patrick, who’s crying hot tears. Humans and alien glare at each other. STEWART It’s okay, Patrick. Being scared doesn’t make you a... a sack of shit. Just human. Four says nothing. STEWART (cont’d) But I still gotta try to do SOMETHING. He turns, and heads for the street. Patrick looks after him, shoots a glare, and the FINGER, at Four, and follows. Four stares after them with an unreadable expression. EXT. SAN LORENZO STREET - DAY A COW’S HEAD lies on the ground. There’s almost no blood, just a watery pink fluid. With a clunk, a HOOF lands next to it, then a TAIL... Nearby is another pile of hooves and tails, all off to the side of a FIRE PIT, where a HUGE SIDE of BEEF roasts, dripping with Bar-B-Q sauce. TRIARCH expertly carves rib slices off with a SHORT, HANDHELD laser, passing them to DUARCH, who puts them on plates already busting with CORN ON THE COB and MASHED POTATOES. Primarch holds up a similar plate, and hollers: PRIMARCH BAR-BE-CUE! The Barbecue is full swing. The firepit and serving tables are set up in front of the Alien ship, and a huge crowd, the whole town, really, mills about. Many of the townspeople are openly nervous, glancing sidelong at the aliens. Duarch can be seen in the distance exhorting the members of a jug band, who reluctantly strike up a merry tune. The aliens wear big APRONS with the Alien logo on them, and click at each other in their language as they slice and serve the meat. A FAT MAN tucks into his ribs messily, splattering sauce all over his shirt. Triarch and Duarch break into a weird tittering laugh. FAT MAN Hey, what’s so god damn funny? DUARCH Oh no, you misunderstand! Where we come from, this sound -HA! HA! HA!- is a sign of merriment and hearty appetite. FAT MAN Well... okay. He immediately SPLURGES more sauce into his lap and the aliens start yukking it up again. TRIARCH (in Alien speech) When the planet is cleared off, I will give that one to the drones as a breeding toy. They crack up again and wave reassuringly at the fat man. Primarch approaches, handing plates out left and right. Duarch ushers him aside. DUARCH O Shining One, I am confused. We require biomass, yet we’re allowing the Texans to consume... hundreds of kilograms. He gestures disapprovingly at the fat man. PRIMARCH We sacrifice some biomass, but we earn their trust, and they return to us many times what we give up now. With the Ovum back, it’ll only be a few days before we’re ready for the First Generation. Behind the crowd a STAGECOACH rattles down the avenue and pulls to a halt near the Applejack. A lone passenger dressed in black gets out. It’s HERBERT, the English reporter from Fort Worth, gawking in amazement. He pays the driver, and heaves his luggage to the ground. Then he just stares in amazement up at the TOWER, as Peggy emerges from the Applejack with a barrel on a trolley. HERBERT Is this... this is... I take it this is San Lorenzo? PEGGY Yep. HERBERT There was a telegram. About fish men? PEGGY Right this way. She wheels the trolley over towards the fire pit, followed by the astonished Englishman. Peggy rolls up to find Primarch in conversation with the Sheriff and Duarch. PEGGY (cont’d) Here’s barrel number two. PRIMARCH Right over there will be great. Herbert cautiously moves forward and stands in open- mouthed wonder staring at the aliens. HERBERT Oh my. I was sure it was a hoax. But no, they’re real. SHERIFF Who the crap are you supposed to be? HERBERT Oh. Oh, I’m sorry, Sheriff. My name is Herbert, Herbert Wells. I’m a reporter for the London Times, on temporary retainer with the Fort Worth Sentinel. I accidentally intercepted a telegram yesterday about “fish men” in San Lorenzo... The idea coincided with certain scientific concepts I’ve been toying with for some time... and in any event, here I am. And here YOU are, genuine extraterrestrials! SHERIFF I don’t much cotton to being called queer by some British bumboy-- PRIMARCH He means us. And yes, we are. HERBERT And speaking English yet! This is the story of the century! Tell me, why did that telegram request the assistance of the 7th Cavalry? DUARCH (in Alien speech) Their armies are alerted! We’re not ready-- Primarch silences him with a wave. PRIMARCH Is the cavalry also en route? HERBERT Well, no. I didn’t want to cause any alarm if it was just a hoax. There’s no need for the military, is there? PRIMARCH No, not at all. There was some misunderstanding on our arrival, as you might imagine. But we are here in peace, as you can see. Herbert pulls out a small notepad and a pencil. HERBERT I’ve got so many questions! Is this your ‘space projectile’? But first I must send word to my editor in Fort Worth that I arrived safely. PRIMARCH All things considered, I’d prefer it if you didn’t mention-- He waves at the monolith, Duarch, himself. PRIMARCH (cont’d) --all this just yet. HERBERT It can hardly be kept a secret! You’ve landed a bloody great projectile half a mile high in the middle of Texas! PRIMARCH No, no, we just need a few days to finish our-- landing procedures. After that, we’ll be ready to-- to share the wealth of the stars with all your people. HERBERT Ah. PRIMARCH And you, of course, will have the exclusive first-hand report. HERBERT (brightening) Ah yes! I have a thousand questions you MUST answer. Do you have a name in our Earth tongue? Where do you hail from? Mars? PRIMARCH All this in time. Meanwhile, have some barbecue. He gently eases Herbert off and confers with Duarch and the Sheriff. PRIMARCH (cont’d) Don’t kill him. And Sheriff, refrain from any overt acts of violence or brutality for the next few days, would you? SHERIFF You white people are startin to piss me off. He stalks away. DUARCH Luminousness? PRIMARCH We’re not ready for a confrontation with the Texan forces yet. Until the First Generation, we are peace-loving ambassadors from a kindly race of-- Martians. A distance away, STEWART peeks around the side of the Sheriff’s office. He spots Peggy, and winds his way nervously through the crowd towards her. Stewart catches up to Peggy and grabs her arm. STEWART Peggy, we gotta warn the town! PEGGY What are you babblin’ about, Stewart? STEWART The fish men! The tall ones! They’re gonna melt everybody! There’s a PING of a sound system going on. The crowd turns to PRIMARCH, who stands on the serving table like a platform. The Sheriff stands in front and a bit to the side. Primarch spreads his hands --three-fingered, chalk-white-- wide, and grins. When he speaks, it’s like he’s an ENTIRE SOUND SYSTEM. PRIMARCH Texans of San Lorenzo, on behalf of me and my People, I’d like to thank you for welcoming us into your community. As I stand here, breathless, under this sweet Texas sky, I count myself truly blessed. This is a great land, and great things are coming to it. We will see the birth of a nation like no other on these rich and beautiful plains, and San Lorenzo will be the very heart of it. The people of San Lorenzo are going to prosper beyond their wildest dreams. He dramatically waves at the ship behind him. PRIMARCH (cont’d) We will pay fifty dollars in gold for every cow you can bring us, and together we are going to make the best damn beef sausages in Texas! He holds up a package of beef sausages, with the Alien Logo boldly emblazoned on them. He pauses dramatically, but the whole town just stares at him. SHERIFF Clap. A hesitant clap, then suddenly everybody claps and cheers, though some look nervously at each other. Herbert scribbles away on his pad with a quizzical look. PEGGY Now I ain’t heard a line of bull like that since my uncle sold me on moving to the big cosmopolitan city of San Lorenzo. PRIMARCH Stewart! Stewart JUMPS, looks over fearfully at Primarch, who approaches with a plate of Bar-B-Q. PRIMARCH (cont’d) Great job on the posters, Stewart! Have some barbecue! Primarch ladles sauce all over the beef. PRIMARCH (cont’d) Now this recipe’s been passed down from my ancestors for eight thousand years... Stewart’s eyes go WIDE as he stares at the sauce. STEWART Goo. A wave of green washes over his face, and he turns and BARFS. ... and looks up in horror. There’s the SHERIFF, glaring down at his puke-spattered boots. STEWART Oh... Sheriff... I’m really sorry. The Sheriff PUNCHES Stewart in the face, knocking him back to crash against a table and clattering to the ground. The Sheriff strides forward and starts kicking the turtled Stewart on the ground. PEGGY Hey stupid! The Sheriff looks up to see Peggy’s fist SLAMMING INTO HIS FACE, puching him back to land in a heap. PEGGY Just an accident, Morton. Let him be. SHERIFF Kinda glad you did that. Been looking for a chance to try these out. He flips his coat back, revealing Four’s LASER PISTOLS. Stewart, nose bleeding, tries to pull Peggy back. PRIMARCH Sheriff, NO. SHERIFF Quit tellin’ me what to do. He draws, but BLAM! The laser flies out of his right hand! And BLAM! The laser flies out of his left hand! It’s FOUR, on one of the half-built defence platforms, blasting away with SIX-GUNS at the laser pistols, knocking them back over the crowd. Abruptly Triarch and Duarch have their guns pulled, but they hold on a blurred gesture from Primarch. Stewart on the ground looks up in total amazement. In one smooth motion Four spins the six-guns, throws them straight up, catches the LASER PISTOLS, spins them, and blur-holsters them. Clunk-clunk-- the two six-guns hit the planks behind him. The crowd is still, expectant. Glanton and a half-dozen other deputies begin reaching for their guns. The Sheriff notices Herbert watching in alarm. He glances to Primarch, who wags his head ‘no.’ SHERIFF (gritting his teeth angrily) Don’t do it, boys. The deputies stare at the Sheriff in disbelief, but slowly holster their pistols. A sudden light bulb goes off over Stewart’s head. He groggily climbs to his feet, pipes up into the silence: STEWART Can... can I just ask a quick question? The Sheriff wearily turns and faces Stewart. SHERIFF Whatever the question is, the answer’s gonna be my boot up your ass. STEWART S- sorry. I was just... He gulps, looks to the faces of the townspeople sitting at the tables, watching him. He darts a look at Four. STEWART (cont’d) It just occurred to me that we never actually had the election for Sheriff. After Peggy’s uncle Sukey, uh, shot himself those six times by accident, and there weren’t no other candidates, we just kinda let you keep the job without ever holdin’ the vote. Isn’t that right, Mayor? All eyes turn to the Fat Man, who looks up, paralyzed, with a mouthful of ribs and sauce all over his face. He looks fearfully to the Sheriff. MAYOR (mouth full) Um... I, I was up in Fort Worth that week buyin’... uh... corn. STEWART So TECHNICALLY the office of Sheriff is still open. SHERIFF Technically so what? Stewart points at Four, still poised above the crowd. STEWART I nominate Four the fish man for the office of Sheriff! Four leaps down from the platform -THUNK!- onto a table. His bandaged knee shakes, but holds. FOUR I accept the nomination! STEWART Town law... town law says you gotta let him run a campaign. The Sheriff’s hands twitch over his empty holsters. SHERIFF Y’need a second, gravedigger. STEWART Will anybody second this nomination? There is a silence. FOUR Texans, those beings (pointing at Primarch) intend to kill you all and take your planet. Your Sheriff is working with them. Only I can save you. STEWART Folks, come on! We’ve been living under the Sheriff’s boot for six years! We all hate him --we even hired killers to put him down! This is our big chance-- don’t you want to take it? Nobody responds. SHERIFF Still need a second. Otherwise a show of hands should confirm my office. Silence. SHERIFF (cont’d) Hands up everybody likes me as Sheriff? PEGGY Oh hell! Second! SHERIFF What? PEGGY Second! I second the damn nomination of the fish midget. Why the hell not? It’s a free damn country. STEWART Well, Sheriff? We havin’ an election? The Sheriff’s eyes are dark centers of murder under his wide-brimmed hat. PRIMARCH Of course we are. This is a law- abiding town. Nobody has anything to hide, here. (to the Mayor) Harvey, we’ll set it for this Tuesday, how about? Harvey (the fat Mayor) glances at the Sheriff, who, after a glance at Primarch, looks back to the Mayor and nods. Herbert stands blinking at the whole affair... Duarch quickly steps up next to him and begins explaining and gesticulating. MAYOR I hearby declare that the town of San Lorenzo will hold its biannual vote for the elected office of Sheriff this comin’ Tuesday, around suppertime. May the best man or bugeyed fish critter win. PRIMARCH Well, don’t be shy, people, there’s plenty of barbecue left! Primarch starts the band up again, and with that, the spell on the crowd is broken, and they start to eat and talk among themselves again. PEGGY Damn you for getting me involved in this, Stewart. Four walks through the crowd to the serving table and looks up at Primarch. FOUR We’ll see who’s Primarch. I’ll destroy you if it takes every Texan in this settlement. INT. APPLEJACK SALOON - DAY Stewart and Four at the bar look up as Patrick enters, excited. Peggy wipes down the bar. FOUR So what now? STEWART Um, didn’t you have a plan? FOUR No, I was pretty much expecting to go down in a hail of plasma fire back there. STEWART So why’d you come back? FOUR I’m hardly going to let some cowardly Texan make me look bad. PATRICK You can beat him! The Sheriff. Then YOU’LL be Sheriff. Then I can be a deputy, and-- FOUR Look. Get this through your heads. I don’t want to be “Sheriff.” I’m here to kill Primarch. After that’s done I’ll leave all you mammals to your little mammal affairs. Stewart and Patrick look crestfallen. At last Stewart pipes up. STEWART So... why didn’t they do anything back there? FOUR They want to keep things quiet till they have enough biomass to begin the invasion. STEWART So, all we have to do is tell people not to sell ‘em cows? FOUR That’ll slow them down. But who’s going to listen? STEWART Don’t you know? You’re in an election now. People will COME OUT to hear what you have to say. It’s the democratic process. PATRICK Plus they wanna see if the Sheriff’s gonna rip a yard-wide hole in your ass. PEGGY Look, I hate to break it to you, but no one’s going to vote for a three foot tall dead white midget. FOUR Even if it means their total extinction? PEGGY You ever seen an election? INT. ALIEN SHIP. DAY Cows MOO and shuffle in fear in their strange surroundings. DUARCH works a control panel in the guts of the Alien ship as Primarch approaches. PRIMARCH Duarch. DUARCH Shining One. Without hesitation Duarch drops what he’s doing and joins Primarch. They both begin to RISE, standing on FLAT WHITE HOVERING DISCS. The two aliens ZOOM up into the main superstructure of the ship, which is HOLLOW. It’s UNBELIEVABLE. It’s like standing on the biggest street corner in the world, TURNED INSIDE OUT. There are various labs and other facilities on the inside walls facing in, and everywhere it’s LOGO, LOGO, LOGO. An enormous forty-storey cylindrical STORAGE TANK dominates the inside of the huge building. The discs carry the two Aliens up towards the top of the tank. A LESS RAPIDLY ASCENDING DISC, this one forty feet across and carrying a number of edgy cows, SWINGS slowly down towards them and past, cows mooing. The two Aliens crest the upper edge of the huge tank. INT. TOP OF BIOMATERIAL TANK. DAY It’s ENORMOUS, filling much of the inside of the building, and a rough metal grille covers the top. Above the tank is the top of the ship, a huge GLASS DOME through which the plains and huge blue sky of Texas can be seen. The discs rise to a lab area on a platform above the tank, where Triarch works surrounded by several large and murky GLASS TANKS. The ruby-like OVUM is plugged into a control panel. TRIARCH Luminous Ones! It fills me with light to report that the processing continues at peak efficiency! The slower disc with the cows crests the lip of the tank, swings over the tank and sinks THROUGH the grill, leaving the cows, blinking, standing on the grill. The disc, under the grill, disappears. DUARCH Shining One, we have acquired 20 per cent of our biomass target. At this rate we’ll be ready for First Generation in three days. A sphere on a slender boom swings out over the MOOING cows on the grille below them. There’s a flashbulb POP, and a cow INSTANTLY LIQUEFIES, pouring in a sudden SLOSH of soupy goo through the grill. The boom swings over towards another cow, and does the same. The POP-SLOSH sound, along with the occasional MOO, can be heard quietly in the background as the Aliens confer. PRIMARCH Four’s interference with the Texans has complicated matters for us. Pop-slosh. TRIARCH We should kill him at once, O Givers of Life. DUARCH And what if the reporter sends word to the Texan authorities? We’re not ready for direct conflict. TRIARCH We kill him too, O Fountain of Ecstacy. PRIMARCH And if that brings the full weight of Texan attack against us? TRIARCH We crush them, O Luminous One. Primarch casts an arch look at Triarch. PRIMARCH You already used that one. TRIARCH Did- did I say luminous? I meant incandescent! I- But Primarch, sadly shaking his head, is already pressing a stud on his wrist computer, and Triarch goes RIGID with AGONY. He collapses to the floor, TWISTING and convulsing, GURGLING and grunting in pain. Primarch lets up on the stud, and Triarch, gasping, climbs to his feet. TRIARCH (cont’d) I ap- But then he’s DOWN again, WRITHING, as now it’s DUARCH pressing the stud on his wrist computer. Duarch lets up, and Triarch struggles to his feet, quite a bit wobblier this time. TRIARCH I apologize, Great Mysteries. PRIMARCH Forgiven. Continue with your interesting ideas, Triarch. Pop-slosh. TRIARCH Of course, Glittering Majesty. I was saying, the best option is to let Four live until we have acquired sufficient biomass. DUARCH There is another, final possibility, Shining One. Duarch taps a nearby computer bank, which brings up a video image of a set of HUGE STEEL DOORS with a strange TRIPARTITE SIGIL on them. Gore and bones are scattered over the floor in front of the doors. The three aliens stare at the image with obvious unease. PRIMARCH Once opened those doors cannot be easily closed. We want to colonize this planet, not destroy it. Primarch considers, watches the pop-slosh melting of the last few remaining cows. He presses a stud on the control pad on his wrist, and the murky fluid in the glass tanks clears, revealing horrifying COW DRONE WARRIORS within. They’re a bipedal mix of COW and ALIEN, with big insectlike eyes and bovine features. PRIMARCH No. Support the Sheriff in this ridiculous election. Make sure Four gains no support with the Texans. We’ll be ready soon enough. EXT. SAN LORENZO STREET - DAY A small crowd has gathered outside Stewart’s store, as Four stands on the railing berating the passersby. Stewart and Patrick hand out leaflets as in the background cowboys lead more cows down the street towards the alien ship. FOUR People of San Lorenzo, you’ve locked me up, betrayed and humiliated me... but I forgive you. He points to a messy diagram of a human body. FOUR (cont’d) This... is a Texan. Not exactly evolution’s high point, but we’ll let that pass. What’s important are the biomorphonic reference points you share with us. Via a simple morphogenetic process, Texan lifeforms- - such as, say, COWS-- can be rendered down to their basic bio-matrix and reconstituted as clone slaves. Hence, vote me for Sheriff. And don’t sell any of your cows. Any questions? COWBOY #1 What’s a clone? COWBOY #2 What’s a morf? COWBOY #3 What’s evolution? Four goggles in frustration. FOUR Life and death, Texans! Let’s try to remember that this is life and death! BREEEP! A woman in the crowd pulls out an alien CELL PHONE. She switches it on and giggles as she chatters into it. CELL PHONE WOMAN Hey! Yes! I’m at the gravediggers’! One of them fish men’s talkin about somethin’! PZOW! The cell phone PINGS out of her hand, blasted through with a tiny pencil-sized burning hole. FOUR has one of his guns out, his teeth clenched. FOUR I believe... I was talking. PRIMARCH Excuse me? Four and the crowd turn to see Primarch with Herbert in tow. PRIMARCH As I was saying, Mr. Wells, on Mars our special ‘peace rays’ have made war obsolete. Ma’am? I think your cell’s damaged. Here’s another. He hands the woman a replacement phone, which also happens to be slightly slicker-looking. He tilts his hat, she smiles impishly at him, and he turns to Four. PRIMARCH (cont’d) Please, Four. Continue. Four, standing there on the railing with his gun and his diagram, suddenly looks pretty stupid. He blur-holsters his gun, tosses the diagram away. FOUR Look, just... don’t sell him your cows! Okay? The crowd looks to Primarch, who shrugs and makes an eloquent ‘cuckoo’ gesture. There’s a murmur of understanding and the crowd begins to fragment. Herbert follows the Cell Phone lady off as Primarch steps forward and grins at Four. PRIMARCH Very persuasive. FOUR Up yours, dickhead. PRIMARCH I hope you’re enjoying this brief respite. Once we’ve dealt with the Texans I plan to set up an entire Ministry devoted to exploring your agony. STEWART Why... why are you doing this? Why do you have to kill us all? PRIMARCH Genetic imperative, Stewart. Fate of nations and all. Out of my hands. Primarch turns back to Four. PRIMARCH (cont’d) Best of luck in your resistance efforts, Four. He leans forward, gives Four a playful little poke in his stomach-wound, and strolls off. Four glowers after him, then jumps down from the railing. FOUR I should’ve shot him in the back! STEWART He’s got a point, though. We ain’t gonna get anywhere if you keep yelling and shooting at folks. HERBERT Four! They glance back to see Herbert the reporter hurrying towards them. HERBERT (cont’d) That is your name, isn’t it? Herbert Wells, from the Times. He bends and offers his hand. Four stares at it unblinkingly. Stewart grabs his hand instead and shakes it. STEWART Hi, I’m Stewart, I run this store. HERBERT Oh. Hello. (turning back to Four) I’m a bit confused by your role here, Four. I’d like to ask you a few questions, if I can. Herbert pulls out an ALIEN recorder. HERBERT (cont’d) You appear to be opposed to your taller comrades. Why is that? FOUR Because they’re going to kill everybody and make a religion out of torturing me. What have THEY told you? HERBERT Well, frankly, they say as the fourth generation of the, uh, “clone tanks”, that you’re not only shorter and weaker, but prone to dementia and learning disabilities. Primarch says they tolerate your outbursts because of the great pity and understanding they have for-- STEWART Four! No! Stewart’s grabbed Four to prevent him from lunging at Herbert. Four controls himself with difficulty. FOUR And you buy that? HERBERT I’m sorry, I can’t believe creatures advanced enough to come across the gulf of space from Mars-- FOUR MARS?!! HERBERT -- would possibly do so for base motives like invasion. Four glares for a long moment, then reaches into a pouch and pulls out a small SILVER BOX. He fiddles with it and hands it to the curious Herbert. Then he reaches up to the translator around his neck and turns it off. When he speaks again, it comes out as a series of CLICKS and SQUEAKS, but the box in Herbert’s hand starts talking a moment later. BOX This is a translator, beanhead. Find out for yourself what they’re up to. Four turns and walks off. Stewart shrugs at Herbert and hurries after Four, leaving the Englishman staring down at the translator box, a shadow of doubt in his face. INT. UNDERTAKER’S OFFICE - NIGHT Patrick is asleep on a chair as Stewart opens his press, pulls out a poster, and replaces it with a blank. Press. Replace. He looks out the door. EXT. UNDERTAKER’S OFFICE - NIGHT Four sits on the sidewalk chewing thoughtfully on a cigar as Stewart emerges from his store. STEWART This’d go a lot faster if you were in here helping, you know. Four doesn’t answer, but gazes off into the sky. Curious, Stewart sits down next to him. FOUR This is a good world. STEWART I like it. FOUR Carbons, metals, bioforms... it’s Grade A Double Plus. STEWART Uh... sure. They look up into the sky together. STEWART You miss your home, don’t you. FOUR Are you nuts? My home’s a hive-ball nightmare! I waited three hundred years for the chance to get out! STEWART How’d you get here? Before them other ones, I mean. FOUR Well, after years of torturing and humiliation and torturing one day I just snapped and decided to get the hell out of there... EXT. MONOLITH IN SPACE FOUR (voiceover) They woke up before I could torch the whole ship... I sabotaged the computer systems and stole the Morphogenetic Ovum for security... then escaped in a shuttle. As before, a saucer-shaped shuttle blasts away from the monolith, which tumbles back, explosions rocking it inside and out. Laser beams reach out after the fleeing craft, but it gets beyond the hyperflight field and PING! -- the monolith pancake-flattens and zips away. FOUR (cont’d) Then I spent a lot of time by myself. The shuttle moves off through deep space... INT. ALIEN SHUTTLE Four manipulates the controls of the saucer as Earth fills the viewscreen ahead. FOUR (voiceover) Eventually I found Texas. However, I made a minor error in my velocity calculations for planetfall. EXT. DESERT - DAY The saucer appears high in the sky, glowing red as it hurtles down... It HITS and BOUNCES, flipping across the grasslands like a huge silver football, kicking up fountains of dirt and debris, until it finally comes to rest. INT. ALIEN SHUTTLE Dark and heavily damaged. Four lies unconscious in his harness. Silence. Then: The hatch opens with a grinding whir. Staring down into the shuttle are two APACHE INDIANS, clearly astonished. EXT. DESERT - DAY Three Apaches ride back towards their village, with Four slung, still unconscious, across a fourth pony. INT. TIPI - DAY Several Apaches sit about a fire debating, with Four slumped naked across some furs in the background. APACHE #1 I’ve never seen a white man THAT white before. APACHE #2 I say we cut off his balls and take his scalp. Apache #1 goes back to examine Four, then returns. APACHE #1 He seems to have neither balls nor hair. The Apaches ponder for a moment, then the Elder speaks. APACHE ELDER If he is white, he must be an outcast from his own people. If that is so, he is no enemy to us. And any man without balls has already suffered greatly. INT. TIPI - NIGHT Four sits in a circle with a number of Apaches. A peace pipe is passed to him. He inhales deeply, then blows out a huge cloud of smoke. He smiles dreamily. FOUR (V.O.) The Apaches took me in and raised me back to health. I learned their ways... Another Apache hands Four a fistful of peyote buttons. EXT. DESERT - NIGHT Four stands, awestruck and clearly in the grips of major psychedelia, staring over a canyon. The moon seems to grow and engulf him, and the soundtrack is awash with weirdly echoing coyote howls and WAILING SITAR MUSIC. EXT. APACHE VILLAGE - DAY Four, now in good health, rushes around instructing Apaches as they construct a huge wooden WATER CONDENSER. FOUR (voiceover) In return, I shared my technology with them. As Four runs about, we can see other artifacts of high technology in the Apache village: A sentry watches the horizon from a gatling-gun tower. An old squaw quickly produces new clothes on a steam- powered sewing machine. An uncomfortable-looking brave runs into a tipi which houses a bone toilet, pull chain and all. The elder watches approvingly, then starts up his pipe with a fur-adorned lighter. INT. ALIEN SHUTTLE Four is tinkering with various computer banks inside the saucer. FOUR (voiceover) And then, three days ago, I detected the Colonizer coming out of hyperflight in your solar system. Somehow they had repaired my sabotage and found the planet Texas. Four watches a radar display showing the monolith headed for Texas, er, Earth. EXT. APACHE VILLAGE - DAY Four on a horse, bidding farewell to the Apaches as he rides out. FOUR (voiceover) So I rode for San Lorenzo. With the aid of the Texan Army, I hoped to ambush Primarch and the others before they could prepare. EXT. UNDERTAKER’S OFFICE - NIGHT Four finishes his story. FOUR Of course, it didn’t work out that way. STEWART Wow. Do you think we have a chance? FOUR Honestly? Given the way things have turned out so far? I would rate our chances at one hundred percent. STEWART Really? FOUR Absolutely. Maybe even two hundred. EXT. SAN LORENZO STREET - DAY A big brush full of paste splatters all over a poster for the Alien BAR-B-Q and SLAP! --a new poster goes up on top of it. VOTE FOUR! -a big picture of Four’s alien face- FOR FREEDOM! Stewart looks up at the hot Texas sun. Wipes his brow. Dips his brush, splatters more paste on a wall, and slaps down another poster. A little old lady (Mrs. Miller) sitting on a porch nearby shakes her fist at Stewart. MRS. MILLER Damnit, Gravedigger, ain’t you put up enough trash for one day? STEWART Afternoon, Missus Miller. He goes to splatter some more paste, but a HUGE HAND grabs his wrist. It’s GLANTON, backed up by a couple of mean cowboys. STEWART Well... howdy, Deputy Glanton. What can I do for you? GLANTON You got a permit for that? Stewart looks at the poster, then back at Glanton. STEWART Ummm... no? GLANTON Wrong answer. He PUSHES Stewart down into the mud and casually PUNTS Stewart’s bucket of paste out of sight. GLANTON (cont’d) Whoops. He turns to Stewart on the ground with an eager smile, cracking his knuckles. GLANTON (cont’d) No permit and resistin’ arrest to boot. Sheriff can’t say I didn’t have reason to kick your narrow ass, gravedigger. FOUR Step away from the Texan. Glanton turns. There’s FOUR, some POSTERS under his arm, a brush, and another bucket of paste. Glanton eyes Four’s guns nervously. GLANTON Only reason you’re so tough is them fancy faggoty guns a yours. Four drops the posters and paste, UNBUCKLES his gunbelt and tosses it to Stewart. FOUR I don’t need guns to handle a sheep- loving defective like you. Oh yes, I can still smell that sweet little lamb on you, so warm and woolly... Glanton’s eyes BUG OUT in fury as one of his sidekicks turns thoughtful. SIDEKICK Say, Sally-Mae has been actin’ funny lately... GLANTON Shut up and SHOOT HIM! The cowboys draw and FIRE, but Four SPRINGS up, leaping and flipping FIFTEEN FEET over their heads. GLANTON What th- ? Four LANDS behind them, spins, and KICKS one of the cowboy’s legs out from under him. With INHUMAN SPEED he darts up and SLAPS the gun out of the other’s hand, then CRACKS him with a leaping UPPERCUT as the cowboy’s still watching his gun spin away. Glanton, by this time, has managed to get his gun pulled, but Four springs up onto Glanton’s arm like a CAT and knocks the gun away. The gun goes off --BLAM!-- as Four, still clinging to Glanton’s arm, SOMERSAULTS, HITS the ground and FLIPS Glanton over like a bag of garbage and DUMPS him in the mud all in one smooth motion. Glanton stumbles to his feet, glaring angrily but fearfully at Four. Seeing a Vote Four poster on the wall, he rips it off, wipes it on his ass, and stomps on it. Then he bolts. STEWART Thanks. MRS. MILLER Hold it, you two! She’s hopped off her perch and is waddling towards them. STEWART What is it now, Missus Miller? She storms right up to them and points at Four. MRS. MILLER Boy, I ain’t seen fightin’ like that since the war, and not even really then, with the jumpin’ around and all! She takes Four’s hand and pumps it vigorously. MRS. MILLER (cont’d) I don’t care if you’re a bug-eyed fish man or not -- this town’s needed somebody like you fer a long time! You got my vote! She points at Stewart. MRS. MILLER (cont’d) And you --quit bein’ such a damn girl all the time! And off she waddles. STEWART Well, thanks for saving me there-- FOUR Don’t get all excited. I’ve got a soft spot for sheep. INT. UNDERTAKER’S OFFICE - NIGHT CLOSE on Stewart’s face, wrinkled in concentration. He’s holding a brush between his teeth as he uses a puffball and makeup pencil on something just out of our view. STEWART Now, just about, that should... yep, that should do it. Now, let’s see how you look. We PULL BACK and see that Stewart has been making up Four, who’s now wearing a BLACK SUIT AND TIE. Stewart has applied pink-flesh makeup to him. PATRICK I think it makes him look a lot worse. Four glares. Stewart winces and wipes the makeup off. STEWART Still, we’re lucky Patrick’s Sunday suit fit you. PATRICK Keep it! Maybe I won’t hafta go to church no more. Stewart tucks a handkerchief into Four’s pocket as he goes on. STEWART Okay, we should get down to the Applejack. The debate starts at eight. EXT. SAN LORENZO STREET - NIGHT Four, Stewart, and Patrick head down the street towards the Applejack, but they’re not the only ones... townspeople fill the street, all whispering and chatting excitedly. STEWART Looks like we’ll have a good turnout, anyway. As they approach the saloon, they can see weird flashes of ARTIFICIAL LIGHT flickering out the windows, together with strange booming sounds. The townspeople, unfazed, continue to rush into the saloon. PATRICK What’s goin’ on in there? STEWART They’re killin’ everybody! My god, it’s too late! Stewart rushes forward and into the saloon. INT. APPLEJACK SALOON - NIGHT Stewart stops in the doorway, astonished. The Applejack has been transformed. The flashes are coming from huge flatscreen TV MONITORS emplaced around the hall, while speakers boom electric guitars. Duarch works the crowd, handing out gadgets from a popcorn-vendor tray hung around his neck. A cluster of grizzled cowboys marvel over the LASER POINTERS they’ve just been given. One projects a red dot onto Stewart’s forehead and starts laughing hysterically. The others follow suit, and Stewart starts batting uselessly at the air in front of his head as he blunders towards the bar... A nearby cowboy shouts into a cell phone... COWBOY #1 No! Guess where I’m calling from? The SALOON! Now Stewart passes a mother whose son, wearing an Alien T- shirt, is playing with a handheld video game contraption. BOY Level 3! Kick ass! Stewart, awestruck, approaches the bar, which is strangely deserted except for a stunned Peggy. STEWART Nobody’s drinking? Peggy makes a wordless gesture towards the corner, where Triarch has set up a makeshift bar of his own. Using the 3-legged trunk, he dispenses drinks to the crowd. TRIARCH Don’t push! There’s more frosty goodness where that came from, you’ll all get your turn. Who wants a vodka cooler? Or a Lemon Splash? Mmmmm-good. Patrick and Four join Stewart at the bar. Four hops up on a stool. FOUR What’s going on? PEGGY You tell me! They showed up an hour ago and started all... all this. There’s another electrical FLASH, and Stewart glances involuntarily at one of the MONITORS, which now displays an ADVERTISEMENT for SHERIFF MORTON, featuring the Sheriff’s scowling face superimposed over a background of rainbows and flowers. BOOMING TV VOICE He’ll bring the future to San Lorenzo. Vote Morton for Sheriff! FOUR Gimme a whiskey. With varnish in it. Peggy raises an eyebrow and pours the drink. Four downs it and looks out worriedly at the flashing, booming scene. Suddenly a THUNDEROUS VOICE cuts through the din. PRIMARCH (amplified) PEOPLE OF TEXAS! YOUR ATTENTION PLEASE! The monitors go dark, and all eyes turn to Primarch, who stands at the top of the Applejack’s staircase with the Sheriff. They look down over the balcony at the crowd as Primarch continues. PRIMARCH (cont’d) As you all know, we’re having a debate between the two nominees for Sheriff tonight. In just a second I’ll turn the mike over to the incumbent Sheriff Morton, but I just wanted to mention that after the debates, we’ll be having an all-night dance party out by the ship. Hope to see you there. And now, let’s give it up for Sheriff Morton! The Sheriff stiffly steps over and Primarch hands him a microphone. The monitors flash ‘APPLAUSE’ prompts and canned clapping. The crowd, confused, gradually starts to go along with it, till they’re hooting and cheering as the Sheriff, looking grim and out of place, starts to speak. SHERIFF You all know me. You all know what I stand for. What do you know about this other feller, this, this critter? He don’t live here. He ain’t even from Texas. What does he really want? Who knows? Now, I admit, I ain’t perfect. But what do you want... the devil you know, or the devil you don’t? That’s all I got to say. He hands the mike over to Primarch and steps back to stand with Glanton and the other deputies. The crowd murmurs, clearly impressed. Triarch and Duarch watch from a dim corner. HERBERT slips behind them and stands nervously with Four’s spare translator raised semi-casually. Triarch CLICKS and SQUEAKS at Duarch, who SQUEAKS back. They both burst into laughter. The translator provides a voiceover a moment later: TRIARCH What a ridiculous monkey. DUARCH He’ll be melted along with the rest when we begin the conquest. Herbert’s face GOES GRAY. Triarch glances around and spots him. Herbert conceals the translator and, forcing a smile, stiffly moves over to their table. HERBERT Erm. So. Tell me more about the... the Martian paradise gardens. Meanwhile Primarch adresses the crowd. PRIMARCH Thank you, Sheriff Morton. And now we’ll turn the stage over to the challenger, Four. Let’s hear it for Four! There’s a dead silence as Four mounts the stairs and turns. He stares out at the crowd of Texans, sees Stewart, Peggy and Patrick watching him. FOUR What the Sheriff says is true. You don’t know me, and I’m not from Texas. You’ve got no reason in the world to trust or believe me. There’s a ripple of apprehension through the crowd. FOUR (cont’d) And if I were appointed Sheriff, I can’t promise you a peaceful town. In fact, I can guarantee you the opposite. Peggy glances at Stewart quizzically. FOUR (cont’d) If elected, I’ll plunge you all into a desperate, brutal battle, not just against your corrupt Sheriff and his sheep-fucking minions-- There’s an outraged squawk as Glanton surges forward and is reined in by the others. FOUR (cont’d) --but against these three, who have a fate you can barely imagine in your tiny Texan minds in store for you. The crowd is now clearly on edge. Where is this going? FOUR (cont’d) I can’t prove to you I’m telling the truth, but I think you already know it. I think you’re just afraid. But remember, not so long ago, your ancestors fought for their own independence against superior technology and hopeless odds. They were afraid too... but that didn’t stop them from fighting. The crowd shifts uncomfortably. Primarch looks from Four to the faces of the crowd, frowns... FOUR (cont’d) They WON that fight. And I’m here to tell you you can win THIS fight. But not if you sit back waiting for someone else to do something. You have to decide what you believe in. You have to decide whether the easy thing to do is the right thing to do. You have to decide, as your forefathers did... would you rather die on your knees... or would you rather die FIGHTING? Four steps back. The crowd wavers for a moment-- “Die?” “Knees?” “Fighting!”-- and then a tidal wave of APPLAUSE AND CHEERS rolls up to Four on the balcony. Peggy looks at Stewart in amazement. Patrick is cheering. Four briefly meets Primarch’s eyes, then turns. The Sheriff glowers as Four heads back down the stairs. A beefy, well-dressed man intercepts him. This is COLLINS, a wealthy cattle rancher. COLLINS Hell boy, I ain’t heard oratin’ like that since, well, since the war between the States. FOUR Thanks, I -- COLLINS We lost that war, you know. Four stops, at a loss for words. COLLINS But us Southerners are used to lost causes, reckon it’d be against our nature to pick the winning side. Anyway, the name’s Collins. I own a little cattle ranch hereabouts. Just wanted to tell you, you got my vote. The crowd observes this exchange, clearly impressed. FOUR Thank you. COLLINS And if you need more than that, I got a dozen hands and a dozen rifles at your disposal. Collins reaches down, clasps Four’s hand, nods, turns, and walks out of the Applejack. Four approaches the bar. PEGGY Damn. PATRICK That was pretty good, mister. Mr. Collins owns half the beef comes through San Lorenzo. Herbert, pale and shaken, approaches them. Carefully he hands the translator back to Four. He swallows and speaks in a choked voice. HERBERT You’re not... you’re not really even from Mars, are you? EXT. SAN LORENZO STREET - DAY The Sheriff storms up the steps of the Alien ship and HAMMERS on the huge twenty-foot doors. SHERIFF Open up! We got trouble! He stares angrily up at the immensity of the tower, and after a moment the doors hiss open. He stomps through. INT. ALIEN SHIP. DAY The Texas sun shines blindingly behind the Sheriff for a moment, then the doors hiss shut behind him, plunging the Sheriff into the cool blue-green of the Alien light. He stands in a large foyer, not unlike the lobby of a big corporate skyscraper. Banners with the Alien logo adorn the walls. A trail of muddy footprints lead from his boots to the door. Primarch descends on one of the white discs and smoothly glides down. PRIMARCH What’s the problem, Sheriff? SHERIFF Collins, that’s what! After all that damn speechifyin’ last night he told my boys today that he ain’t sellin’ you his cows! PRIMARCH Triple the offer. The Sheriff angrily throws a fistful of coins in a glittering clatter at Primarch above him. SHERIFF I already did! He said he ain’t sellin’ to you or no other white- skinned fairies for all the gold and pigshit in Texas! Primarch settles lightly down beside the Sheriff. SHERIFF (cont’d) There has been a serious erosial of my authority ever since you fucken freaks showed up. PRIMARCH We need those cows. SHERIFF Fuck your cows and the horse they rode in on! He swings at Primarch, but -FAP!- in a BLUR Primarch grabs his wrist and stops him COLD. The Sheriff struggles, but Primarch holds him fast. PRIMARCH Sheriff, your authority in San Lorenzo is fast becoming irrelevant. SHERIFF The election- PRIMARCH It’s time to think globally. The Sheriff says nothing. PRIMARCH (cont’d) Now go to the Collins Ranch and get me 600 megagrams of bovine biomass so we can take over this world. INT. APPLEJACK SALOON - DAY Stewart, Herbert and Four are standing near the bar, while Peggy pours herself a shot of whiskey. STEWART I think we’re making progress. FOUR Not enough. Herbert, how long until the cavalry arrives? HERBERT I sent the telegram last night, so, assuming maximum alacrity and responsiveness from my editor, I’d say no sooner than... two days? Three? FOUR Well, if Collins won’t sell them his cattle, we might be able to hold out-- --and suddenly PATRICK rushes into the saloon, huffing and puffing and out of breath. PATRICK Jimmy Waxman says that Billy Field says that Billy’s big brother Bobby who rides with Sheriff Morton says they was ridin’ out to Mister Collins’ ranch! FOUR How many men? PATRICK Lots! Four dozen at least! FOUR They’re going to try to steal his cows. We’ve got to intercept them. STEWART What? Four dozen men? FOUR Yes, it’s completely hopeless. However, we have no choice. STEWART Well, okay. HERBERT I’ll do what I can... FOUR Peggy, lock up here and get your uncle’s shotgun. We’ll meet you out by the stables and-- PEGGY Hey, hold on! This is YOUR suicide mission, not mine. FOUR If Primarch gets those cows we’ll be eye-deep in drones by tomorrow. STEWART You heard him, Peggy. We’ve got to stop them. PEGGY Maybe YOU do, but I don’t. I’ve already gotten too involved in this mess as is. STEWART But Peggy-- PEGGY I ain’t going, Stewart! You wanna get killed you go ahead, but leave me out of it! I’ve got a business to run. She glares at him. Stewart backs off, shocked and disheartened. FOUR Get me a horse. A short one. EXT. ROCKY PASS - DAY Evening is starting to fall as the SHERIFF and about a dozen men, including GLANTON and GREERSON, gather on horseback. In the valley below are the lights of the Collins ranch. SHERIFF We move in quick, get this done tidy. GLANTON Collins got some boys who might put up a fight. SHERIFF Won’t be a worry. The sound of an approaching horse is heard, but the rhythm is off - CLOP clip-clip CLOP clip-clip. DUARCH rounds the corner, riding a sporty, convertible horse-sized TRIPOD with spindly legs. The Alien Logo is prominent, of course. The cowboys blanch, and their horses skitter back as Duarch rides up in a cloud of dust. SHERIFF (cont’d) Now which one are you? DUARCH Does it matter? SHERIFF S’pose not. Duarch reaches behind him, and tosses out a FUTURISTIC LASER RIFLE. The Sheriff catches it, cocks it, and BLASTS a nearby boulder to pieces. The thunder echoes back across the valley. Duarch tosses rifles to the eager cowboys. The Sheriff WHISTLES heads-up, YANKS the reins and RIDES off down toward the valley, followed by Duarch and the cowboys. EXT. ROCKY PASS - NIGHT Night is just falling as STEWART, FOUR, and HERBERT ride towards the the valley. STEWART I can’t believe Peggy didn’t come. Stewart taps on a watch-like device he’s wearing on his wrist, and holds it up to his ear. STEWART And how is this is supposed to work again...? Four YELLS into his wrist device. FOUR IT WORKS LIKE THIS! Stewart cringes back as the device yells in his ear. They ride to the lip of the valley and dismount. Herbert and Stewart carry rifles. Four turns to the horses and NEIGHS to them, and they wander off to a patch of grass. Four peeks over a boulder down to the ranch below. FOUR Sixteen men, the Sheriff... and Duarch. And a Tripod. And he’s given them plasma rifles. Perfect. He slumps against the boulder and rubs his eyes, a surprisingly human gesture. He motions them to the boulder and they peek over it. Four shakes his head -- whatever he’s seeing doesn’t look good. He sighs. FOUR Okay, let’s try this. We’ll set up a crossfire. Herbert, you’ll go around that way to there, and Stewart, you go with him and then on to there. I’ll be over there. He points out a group of rocky outcroppings, faintly shimmering under the moonlight. FOUR (cont’d) Our targets are, in descending order of priority: Duarch, the Sheriff, the tripod, the other cowboys, and the cows. STEWART What about the Collinses? FOUR They’re not targets. STEWART No, how are we going to make sure they don’t get hurt? FOUR We won’t shoot at them. STEWART That’s not what I meant. HERBERT I only spent a short time in the Army. I’m afraid I can’t assure my marksmanship beyond fifty yards. STEWART And I can’t assure my marksmanship beyond two yards. Four looks at both of them in disbelief. After a sigh of frustration, he unholsters his LASER PISTOLS. Taking their rifles, he gives a pistol each to Herbert and Stewart, along with two small devices the size and shape of a jeweler’s loupe. FOUR (cont’d) Target through this, twist the ring to zoom in and out. Curious, Herbert holds the device to his eye and peeks over the boulder. HERBERT’S POV - After some clumsy zooming in and out, he sees the ranch is a mess. Buildings have been blown to pieces, there are holes in the main house, small fires burn here and there. In front of the house kneel COLLINS and his men, all with their hands on their heads. The SHERIFF and DUARCH stand over them while a few laser-rifle wielding COWBOYS patrol. Duarch’s TRIPOD is parked behind them. Behind them, other COWBOYS ride around and prepare a huge holding pen full of cows. GLANTON emerges from the house, pushing Collins’ WIFE and two CHILDREN in front of him. EXT. COLLINS RANCH. NIGHT Collins leaps to his feet. COLLINS Morton, you bastard son of a clapridden whore- The Sheriff casually CLUBS HIM TO THE GROUND with the butt of his laser rifle. SHERIFF Now don’t go blamin’ me for the hurtin’ you’re bringin’ on yerself, Collins. DUARCH Stop wasting time and secure the beasts for transport. EXT. ROCKY PASS TO COLLINS RANCH. NIGHT Further down the hill facing the Collins ranch, STEWART slides into position behind a rocky outcropping. He glances up the hill, spots HERBERT hiding behind another outcropping a few dozen yards away. Beyond Herbert he can see the small nimble shape of FOUR scuttling from rock to rock. Stewart holds the loupe to his eye. STEWART’S POV - As though they were only a few feet away, Duarch and the Sheriff argue above the Collinses. Behind Duarch Stewart can see the tripod. A TARGETING RETICLE APPEARS, jumping and jittering all over the view. Stewart is holding the pistol out, his hand trembling. He reaches out with his other hand, grips his gun hand to steady it. STEWART C’mon. Cut it out. STEWART’S POV - Duarch looks up, as though he’s heard something -- AND LOOKS STRAIGHT AT US. Stewart gasps in surprise, PULLING THE TRIGGER by reflex. EXT. COLLINS RANCH. NIGHT Duarch ducks and the TRIPOD behind him EXPLODES in a WHOOSH of BLINDING flame that shoots skyward. Collins’ men run for it as Duarch, the Sheriff and Collins go FLYING, landing with a crash on top of Glanton and the family near the door. EXT. ROCKY PASS TO COLLINS RANCH. DAY Four sees the tripod go up, throwing harsh shadows across the Collins ranch. FOUR Fuck! He whips the rifle to his shoulder and FIRES. EXT. COLLINS RANCH. NIGHT A spot on the wall seven feet from Duarch’s head EXPLODES. He looks up, hears the BANG! EXT. ROCKY PASS TO COLLINS RANCH. DAY Four looks at the rifle with disgust. FOUR You’ve got to be KIDDING me! EXT. COLLINS RANCH. NIGHT The Sheriff grabs Duarch and Collins by the scruff of the neck and piles them all through the door. He sticks his head back out and hollers at the cowboys. SHERIFF FIRE YOU IDIOTS! COWBOY #1 Where? SHERIFF ANYWHERE! And the cowboys UNLOAD into the hillside with the silver guns. Bright LINES OF LIGHT snap between the ranch and hills, and EXPLOSIONS light up the rocks as the barrage goes on like an ARTILLERY STRIKE. EXT. ROCKY PASS TO COLLINS RANCH. DAY HERBERT ducks back behind the rock and covers his head as FIRE and SMOKE blow around him. STEWART huddles behind his rock. FOUR leaps behind an outcropping, narrowly avoiding being vaporized along with a big chunk of the hillside. EXT. COLLINS RANCH. NIGHT The explosions FLASH and PULSE and THUNDER up and down the hill for a moment, then the barrage drops off until the last rolling thunderous echo dies away. COWBOY #1 Damn! I LOVE these guns! COWBOY #2 I think we got him! THUP! He’s shot in the chest, he falls from his saddle, and BANG! there’s the sound of the shot. THUP! Another cowboy falls, and another BANG! EXT. ROCKY PASS TO COLLINS RANCH. NIGHT FOUR’S POV - Four aims a good fifteen degrees off a crouched cowboy, FIRES, and the distant cowboy drops. EXT. COLLINS RANCH. NIGHT The cowboys retreat behind the house, BLASTING shots towards the hills, which THUNDER in bursts of flame. EXT. ROCKY PASS TO COLLINS RANCH. DAY Four takes cover behind a rock and whispers urgently into his wrist device. FOUR Perfect! They’ve moved to the house! Quickly, operate the red control on the handle of your guns and slide it all the way to the top! Separately, Herbert and Stewart look to their guns, see the controls, a red slider. STEWART Then what? FOUR Then destroy the house! STEWART Are you crazy? The Collinses are in there! HERBERT We can’t murder those people, Four! FOUR Dammit, that’s an order! An EXPLOSION shakes the hill as a cowboy peeks around the house and takes a shot. Four slams back against a rock, boiling in frustration. He waits. No huge explosions destroy the house. But more bolts from the cowboys TEAR INTO THE HILLSIDE. INT. COLLINS RANCH HOUSE. NIGHT The Sheriff and Duarch crouch by the window, popping their heads up for quick peeks here and there, as pieces of the window BLOW OFF. Glanton holds Collins and his family at gunpoint off to the side. DUARCH He’s pinning us down. SHERIFF Let’s get out of here. He turns and BLOWS a hole in the inside wall to the next room. EXT. COLLINS RANCH HOUSE. NIGHT The cowboys huddle behind the house, occasionally whipping around to pop off a few blasts. Suddenly the house wall EXPLODES, and the Sheriff plows out through the hole with Duarch and Glanton in tow. With a growl the Sheriff spins and starts firing THROUGH THE HOUSE at the hill. EXT. ROCKY PASS TO COLLINS RANCH. DAY Four and the others duck as spears of light BLAST THROUGH THE HOUSE and LIGHT THE HILL UP with explosions. EXT. COLLINS RANCH HOUSE. NIGHT Duarch screams at some huddled cowboys. DUARCH Get these cows moving! The Sheriff aims at one of the cows with his laser rifle and PZOW! vaporizes it! The cattle jump, startled, and start to move towards the pass behind the house, herded by Greerson and some other deputies. EXT. ROCKY PASS TO COLLINS RANCH. NIGHT The sound of the MOOS and the RUMBLE of the moving cows drifts up the hill. Four hears, peeks around. FOUR They’re escaping with the cows! Blow up the house RIGHT FUCKING NOW! HERBERT I can’t do it! FOUR It’s them or everybody! STEWART NO! Four stares down at the radio in fury and frustration. Then he pulls the other rifle from his back, grits his teeth... FOUR I hate Texans... ...and BOLTS DOWN THE HILL TOWARDS THE RANCH, holding a RIFLE IN EACH HAND. FOUR COVER ME! Four LEAPS from rock to rock, THIRTY FEET, zing! like a flea, BANG! he fires, leaps, BANG! FIRES in the air, and LEAPS, rapidly covering the distance. BLASTS from the retreating cowboys throw chunks of rock and gouts of smoke and flame up around him as he runs. Stewart and Herbert goggle in amazement, then lay down a suppressing fire. EXT. COLLINS RANCH HOUSE. NIGHT Four covers the last twenty feet to the house and with an incredible BOUND springs up and lands with a THUMP on the ROOF of the house. He darts forward to the far edge of the roof, and looks down at the back yard, where the cows rumble and mill around and start to flow up the back pass under the guidance of the cowboys. With a BLURRED motion he draws a fifteen-degree-off bead on Duarch on horseback and pulls the trigger. CLICK. FOUR Ah, for- He leaps back as Duarch turns and in a BLURRED motion draws and fires, LIFTING THE ROOF OFF in a PILLAR OF FIRE. Duarch spurs his horse deep into the mass of now stampeding cows. Four crashes to the ground as flaming bits of roof rain down on him. He spots Duarch and NEIGHS as loud as he can. Duarch’s horse REARS up and dumps him in the midst of the cows. Four bellows a MOO at the top of his translated lungs. The cows MOO in a rumbling answer. Duarch scrambles to try to regain his footing, jostled by the rumbling cows. DUARCH Moo! Moooo! MOOO! But the cows thunder MOOOOOOOOO! and Duarch is CRUSHED under the stampede. Four pants in exhaustion - then LEAPS back as the ground under him DETONATES from a blast from the Sheriff. The Sheriff aims again at the prone Four-- but then a massive explosion nearby blows him off his feet, sending the rifle spinning. He gets to his feet in time to see HERBERT and STEWART charging down the hill, firing lasers as they come. Gunless, he leaps up on a horse and rides after the departing cows and cowboys. Four sways to his feet, staggers groggily after them as the rumble of the cows fades to a murmur and dies. FOUR Dammit Dammit DAMMIT! Stewart and Herbert run up beside him, panting. HERBERT Amazing! I’ve never seen anything like it! STEWART That was great! I shot the Sheriff! FOUR We blew it! They got away! Total mission failure! Collins and his family emerge timidly from the wreckage of the house. Collins’ wife runs forward and EMBRACES the uncomfortable Four. COLLINS’ WIFE Oh God, thank you thank you thank you! You saved us! You saved us! The children run up and wrap their arms around him as well, crying. FOUR Get off me. Four tries to extricate himself, but the family showers him with grateful affection and after a moment, though he throws a pained look at Stewart and Herbert, he stops struggling to pull away. INT. ALIEN SHIP. NIGHT The Sheriff is standing in the foyer, fuming mad. Primarch eyes him calmly as Collins’ hijacked cattle are driven in through the doors by various henchmen. SHERIFF -- an’ THAT’S why your bug-eyed idjit buddy Dwark or whatever didn’t come back, and ain’t comin’ back anytime soon neither. PRIMARCH Duarch is dead, then. SHERIFF We’re all gonna be dead if we don’t get the hell outta here afore your dwarf cousin Wyatt Earp shows up again. PRIMARCH No, I don’t think that will be necessary. Come, ride with me. Primarch gestures, and the Sheriff reluctantly follows him onto one of the hovering elevator-discs. It JOLTS upward, startling the Sheriff. They ride up through the monolith. Cows on other discs rise at different speeds alongside them. PRIMARCH (cont’d) Duarch’s death is unfortunate, but the operation is still a success. We have sufficient biomass for the First Generation. SHERIFF First generation of what? Primarch ignores him. The disc comes to a halt at the cow- melting platform from before, where Triarch is rushing about, supervising the liquification of the cows as they arrive. SHERIFF Holy bleedin’ mother o’ shit! PRIMARCH Triarch, are we ready? TRIARCH Your fluorescent majesty, we are. PRIMARCH Proceed. There is no further point in delaying the invasion. SHERIFF Them... them cows are turnin’ to mush! Triarch works various controls. A VAST OMINOUS WHIRRING fills the ship, like the devil’s mixmaster. It climaxes in a muted thunderous WHOOSH, as some horrendous vibration rattles the walls. The Sheriff gazes in horror as hidden vaults crack open in a hiss of steam. Dozens of HUGE GLASS TUBES rise up to the platform. Inside the tubes, suspended in greenish fluid, are the ALIEN DRONE COW WARRIORS. They’re massive 8 foot hulks, half alien, half cow, all thug, each packing a huge plasma rifle. As the tubes lock into position near the walkways, the fluid begins to drain from them. A Drone Warrior blinks its eyes and stirs. And then another. The Sheriff is speechless. Primarch nods and gestures to the tanks. PRIMARCH Release the battle drones! Triarch works a control and the tubes retract into the floor. Dozens of Battle Drones stand blinking, then slowly step off onto the main platform. PRIMARCH (cont’d) First we secure the town and neutralize Four. Next we mobilize against the Texan army and obtain the biomass for the Second Generation. After that, all of Texas will be-- will be-- Primarch falters as he observes the Drone Warriors, who have almost immediately lapsed from their military posture. Many are clomping around on ALL FOURS, weapons forgotten. Others mill mindlessly about, trying to climb back into their tubes. Most are MOOing in distress and confusion. One Cow Warrior tries to eat his rifle muzzle first. It goes off with a FLASH and THUMP, bulging the drone’s eyes. Smoke fumes out its ears and it topples over. The other Drones become more excited in their mooing and milling. Several get jostled off the platform to plunge-- MOOOO!-- into the darkness far below. A herd heads straight for Primarch, Triarch, and the Sheriff, mooing in terror. TRIARCH Your luminosity! Triarch grabs the stunned Primarch and drags him back onto the hover disc. The Sheriff leaps aboard just as Triarch activates it. The trio shoot upwards forty feet just as the mini-stampede reaches them, toppling off the edge of the platform into the abyss. Sounds of MOOING, CRASHING, and occasional LASER BLASTS can be heard from below as the disc rises. SHERIFF You was planning to invade using COWS? I ain’t figured the Lord made a dumber critter than a cow. Leastways not ‘til I saw this shit. PRIMARCH How could this happen? Total patterning failure... it’s almost as if-- TRIARCH O Magnificent One! Where is the Ovum? Primarch goggles at the clone control panel, from which the Morphogenetic Ovum is pointedly MISSING. INT. APPLEJACK SALOON - NIGHT FOUR You did WHAT? Patrick looks sheepish as he holds the Ovum. Peggy, Stewart and Herbert join Four in slack-jawed astonishment. PATRICK I snuck into the tower and stole their jewely thing. The thing you said they needed. FOUR How in the HELL did you do that?? Patrick smirks, clearly pretty pleased with himself. PATRICK Compared to stealin’ eggs from Mrs. Miller’s henhouse, that was easy. Four takes the Ovum. He can’t believe it. FOUR With this, we might have a chance. Then, from the door: PRIMARCH Four! All look, see Primarch framed in the swinging doors. Shielding the Ovum with his body, Four hastily stuffs it into PATRICK’S SHIRT POCKET before turning. PRIMARCH (cont’d) I’d like to speak to you. Alone. STEWART Anything you can say to him you can say to us! FOUR Get real, Texan. He and Primarch exit, watching each other warily. EXT. SAN LORENZO STREET - NIGHT It’s pretty late at night by now -- there are a few lamps burning, but the town is surprisingly well lit by the COOL BLUE LIGHT of the moon. Primarch and Four stroll around the town, crickets chirping. PRIMARCH Congratulations, Four. You’ve graduated from minor nuisance to nuisance. FOUR Cut the crap, Primarch. You’ve hit the Collection Target, but still no Generation. You need the Ovum. PRIMARCH And I’m sure this time you’ve got it hidden somewhere a little more secure than your pocket. Correct? Four grimaces, shrugs. Primarch looks up at the night sky. PRIMARCH Texas. A planet like this seats empires, Four. I have great designs for this spiral arm. FOUR Why are you telling me this when you should be wiping my rectal pucker to get the Ovum back? PRIMARCH I name you Duarch. Four pauses, shocked. PRIMARCH Certainly, it would be pleasing to teach you several new dimensions of agony for your transgressions, Four -- but I’m a god, and I have to look further ahead. You’ve shown your ability --I’d be a fool to throw away your talent. FOUR What about Triarch? What about the Succession? PRIMARCH I’m Primarch. No law binds me. FOUR And I’d be Duarch? PRIMARCH You ARE Duarch. Four takes a long moment to think about it. FOUR No, I think I’d rather win. PRIMARCH Win? Against me? FOUR There’s only two of you left. Every Texan in this town has a gun. You think you can get them all? PRIMARCH Most of your precious Texans will be killed. FOUR That’s what they’re for. PRIMARCH Maybe I should just kill you now. FOUR Maybe you should just try. They both FREEZE. Eyes LOCKED. Primarch’s pinky TWITCHES over his gunbelt. Neither moves. What apocalypse is about to explode between them? Then Primarch straightens and relaxes. PRIMARCH Let’s say you win this silly election. Then what? You really think you have a chance? FOUR I guess we’ll find out tomorrow. EXT. CHURCH. DAY The church is a bit out of town, still easily within sight, and townspeople congregate, talking among themselves. The church bell RINGS loudly. There’s a big wooden table beside the church doors, with a PILE OF GUNS on it. People entering unstrap holsters and weapons and plunk them down on the table. The SHERIFF and STEWART stand by the doorway, warily watching each person enter, and each other. Missus Miller wobbles up to the doors. The Sheriff and Stewart exchange glances and Stewart holds out an arm. STEWART Sorry, Missus Miller. She stops, looks at him as though to argue, and then... doesn’t. Grudgingly, she digs in her bodice and pulls out a SURPRISINGLY LARGE COLT .45 and tosses it on the table. Peggy and Four approach the doors. Four blur-draws at the Sheriff, who jerks back despite himself. Smirking, Four claps the guns together and tosses them on the table. He enters, followed by Peggy, who meets Stewart’s eyes as she walks past. INT. CHURCH. DAY Four and Peggy enter the church, which is bustling with people. There are only a couple of pews here and there... most are gone, replaced by chairs. PEGGY Think it’s a good idea to spook the Sheriff like that? FOUR What does it matter? As long I’ve got the Ovum they won’t dare try anything. We’re actually going to win this thing. Collins is talking to various townsfolk, gesticulating wildly to describe explosions and gunfights. FOUR enters the church and Collins points directly at him, still talking a mile a minute. The Mayor walks up to the pulpit, wearing a jogging outfit emblazoned with the Alien logo. MAYOR Well, okay, folks, we’re here to vote on San Lorenzo’s new Sheriff. I know we’ve had some trouble round town the last few days, but keep in mind this is a house of God, and let’s not have no more shootings nor killings nor explosions for the duration. Thank you. The townspeople line up to enter the black-curtained voting booth. The Sheriff is leaning by the entrance as a bespectacled townsman heads in. He glares menacingly down at the man. SHERIFF You be sure to vote your mind, now. The man gulps... and Four emerges from behind him, staring up at the Sheriff. FOUR Yes, you do that. The Sheriff locks eyes with Four-- then falters, recalling his recent ass-kicking, perhaps-- and steps away from the booth. Four follows suit, and the two stand equidistant from the booth, staring at each other and each voter who enters with equal intensity. Meanwhile, over in the front row of pews, Patrick, Stewart, and Peggy watch the proceedings anxiously. PEGGY Where’s Herbert? STEWART I saw Four talking to him after we got back from the ranch... but I haven’t seen him since. Patrick runs up and interrupts them. PATRICK Four’s gonna win! I’m gonna be deputy! STEWART Maybe. People have had enough of getting pushed around here. PEGGY And you think Four’s any better than them other critters? STEWART Of course he is! PEGGY After what you said happened at the Collinses... I ain’t so sure. STEWART What are you talking about? He’s a hero! PEGGY But what happens after the election, Stewart? You think the Sheriff and those-- those other critters are just gonna pack up and go? STEWART The Cavalry ought to be here by tomorrow. It’s like Four said... sometimes you got no choice but to fight. PEGGY That makes for a good speech, but why not ask my uncle about it? Live free, horseshit. It don’t make no difference how free you are if you’re dead. PATRICK Well, I’d rather be dead than a suck- ass sack of shit like my pa. PEGGY Good ideas you’re putting in the boy’s head, Stewart. She storms off. The townspeople keep filing into the voting booth... Peggy stands by herself near the back of the church, fuming. She glances up into the rafters... and sees a FLASH OF MOTION. INT. RAFTERS OF CHURCH - DAY Glanton and Greerson are hidden in this dark area, looking down over the congregation. Greerson’s carrying a rifle and sweating heavily. Down on the floor, the last voter emerges from the booth. MAYOR Well, okay, folks, we’ll be tallying the votes now. The Mayor and a clerk begin going through the voting box as the townspeople watch anxiously. GLANTON You just be ready. Greerson nods unhappily, and settles into a sniper’s position. Peggy emerges from the shadows. PEGGY What’s this all about, Glanton? The two jerk around... Glanton draws his pistol but looks uneasily down at the people below, lowers it. GLANTON (to Greerson) You never mind her. Greerson, sweating, nods and looks down over the barrel of his rifle towards the pulpit. INT. CHURCH. DAY The Mayor and his clerk have finished counting the votes, which, after all, weren’t that many. Patrick watches over their shoulders. The Sheriff and Four stand a ways back, glancing at each other guardedly. The Sheriff looks expectantly up into the shadows at the back of the church. MAYOR Well, alrighty, looks like we’ve done got all the votes. INT. RAFTERS OF CHURCH - DAY Glanton leers at Peggy. GLANTON You ain’t gotta do nothing here. We won’t say a thing after. PEGGY After what? Do you really think those other critters are gonna let you live? GLANTON Never you mind all that. You wanna be worrying about your own ass here. It was poking his nose into other people’s business got your uncle kilt, remember. Peggy hesitates, looking at the pistol in Glanton’s hand. INT. CHURCH. DAY MAYOR The votes are in, and we do have a winner for the office of Sheriff. Four and the Sheriff tense. MAYOR (cont’d) Well, I’ll just cut the suspense. The winner is the, uh, the, uh-- him. He points to Four. There’s a collective roar from the crowd. Patrick and Stewart are cheering, and Four can’t suppress a grin. The Sheriff’s face darkens, but not in surprise. He turns and slips away out the back of the Church. INT. RAFTERS OF CHURCH - DAY Peggy looks down at the church. Four is stepping up to the pulpit. Greerson wipes the perspiration from his forehead and takes aim. PEGGY Know what, Glanton? It wasn’t nosiness that got my uncle killed. GLANTON Shut up! PEGGY It was assholes like you that got him killed. And I am goddam sick and tired of assholes. (shouting down to the floor) FOUR! LOOK OUT! INT. CHURCH. DAY Four hears the shouted warning and looks up... sees the glinting rifle barrel high up back of the church. Suddenly it EXPLODES into flame as Greerson fires-- --and Four --BLUR!-- lunges to the floor, hits, rolls-- INT. RAFTERS OF CHURCH - DAY GLANTON Shee-it, again! Shoot! Peggy takes advantage of the distraction, grabbing Glanton’s gun by the barrel and yanking it out of his hand. Glanton spins back to her and gets PISTOL-WHIPPED across the face. He topples backwards and PLUMMETS, shouting, 20 feet to the floor, landing with an unpleasant spinal CRUNCH. Peggy reverses the gun and aims at Greerson, but he’s dropped the rifle and is staring in horror, tears streaming from his eyes, at the scene below... INT. CHURCH. DAY Four looks at Glanton’s immobile form on the floor. He notices the stricken look on the faces of the townspeople, who are looking at something behind him. Slowly he turns around... PATRICK lies behind him in a POOL OF BLOOD, caught by his father’s bullet. Stewart crouches by the boy, feeling for a pulse. STEWART He’s dead! PRIMARCH Ah, but he doesn’t HAVE to be, does he, Four? The crowd turns in astonishment. Primarch stands framed in the entrance to the church. Four gulps, looks askance. Primarch continues speaking as he walks slowly down the center aisle. PRIMARCH (cont’d) That’s right! Four has the power to heal him. A piece of our technology that he stole from us. He points dramatically at FOUR. PRIMARCH (cont’d) If he really cared for you, if your lives meant anything to him, wouldn’t he bring that child back? Four stands in the glare of a suddenly hostile audience. Even Stewart looks at him with incredulity. STEWART Well, what are you waiting for? Four eyes Primarch, who glides through the crowd towards him. He grimaces, and whispers to Stewart. FOUR It’s not that simple. I can’t risk the Ovum. STEWART Are you CRAZY? It’s PATRICK! He got it for you in the FIRST place! Four is sweating: if he uses the Ovum, he’s giving up his only ace. Finally, through clenched teeth: FOUR This is a big-time tactical mistake. Four crouches, reaches into his pouch, and pulls out an alien healing unit. Then he reaches down and pulls the Ovum from Patrick’s shirt pocket. Eyes still on Primarch, Four clumsily jams it into the holder at the end of the healing unit, which blinks on a whole new set of lights. The lights reflect in the DEEP BLACK of Primarch’s eyes. FOUR Everybody get back. The crowd goes back a bit, then thinks about it and backs up the rest of the way to the wall. Four hits the button, and stabs Patrick in the head with the Ovum, except that it FLOWS INTO HIM and ripples softly through his body. A small set of glowing buttons appears in space next to Four. He taps a couple of buttons --deet, deet-deet-- and they disappear. With a sigh, he pulls the Ovum back out and waits. Everyone is breathless, either watching Four, Primarch or Patrick, or trying to watch all three at once. Suddenly Patrick SPRINGS UP like a jack-in-the box, lands on his feet, wobbly, then --waving his arms and YELLING-- crashes back to the ground. FOUR (cont’d) They always do that... Patrick looks up at Four, and jumps at him, grabbing him in a huge hug and knocking him off balance. PATRICK Four! Four! Four! FOUR Hey! Get off! LEMME GO! Seeing his chance, Primarch BLURS FORWARD and GRABS THE OVUM out of Four’s hand. PRIMARCH Thank-you. Four and Patrick CRASH to the floor and apart. Four looks up at Primarch, who now has the Ovum. Four climbs to his feet and advances on Primarch, hand outstretched. FOUR All right, Primarch. Hand it over. The crowd surrounds Primarch, looking hostile... PRIMARCH You’ve proven me wrong, Four. You really can lead these creatures. He smirks. PRIMARCH (cont’d) Luckily for me, you’ve led them into a confined area with no weapons. Primarch raises his arm with the communicator wristwatch. PRIMARCH (cont’d) Sheriff... would you step in here, please? A quiet thud. Heads go up in the crowd. Then a not-so- quiet thud. And another. THUD THUD THUD THUD There’s an indistinct shape visible in the stained glass at the head of the church. Then it’s a little less indistinct and a little less and then it’s the SHERIFF SMASHING THROUGH THE GLASS IN A TWELVE-FOOT-HIGH POWERED- ARMOR SUIT! Alien logo on the front, of course. SHERIFF I demand a recount! Four looks up, his hands BLUR --gunbelt, back-- except his hands come up EMPTY. He looks at his hands, then his empty gunbelt. FOUR Uh-oh. The Sheriff points at Four, and LIGHTNING BLASTS out of the suit. Four leaps aside, and the Sheriff tracks, firing, BLOWING UP A ROW OF PEWS. Four keeps on going, barrelling straight for one of the side windows. EXT. CHURCH. DAY Four BURSTS out the window in a shower of glass, followed closely by the SHERRIFF, who SMASHES THROUGH THE WALL, taking a sizable chunk of the church with him. INT. CHURCH. DAY Townsmen are panicking, running for the exit and out into the sun where they see... EXT. CHURCH. DAY ...TRIARCH looming SIXTY FEET ABOVE THEM in a huge BATTLE TRIPOD-- a three-legged war machine bristling with weaponry! An enormous foot SLAMS DOWN onto the table piled with guns, completely crushing it. A huge cannon swings out from the tripod over the crowd. A brilliant red HEAT BEAM slices down, cutting across the front of the crowd below, VAPORIZING SEVERAL PEOPLE. The beam slices to the side, and then back, and then back and forth. Stewart and Peggy stare up at the tripod and the BEAM... PEGGY Stewart, MOVE! ... and Peggy SHOVES Stewart away and gets him moving. The crowd panics and pours in the same direction... down the road towards the town, and the ship... EXT. BEHIND THE CHURCH. DAY The Sheriff clumps forward in his behemothoid suit, blasting cracks of lightning from one hand and sweeping lines of fire and explosion with heat beams from the other. SHERIFF’S POV - Though it’s a suit, the area around his head is like a little cockpit. SHERIFF Where is he? The suit BLEEPS, and a HUD comes up, phases through several vision choices including heat vision, 3D radar, pheremones, and so on, and outlines the shape of Four behind an outhouse. Behind the outhouse, Four is panting. KAWHOOM! The outhouse explodes in a shower of splinters and flame. Four crouches amid the wreckage, totally exposed. There’s nowhere to run, there’s no cover for over a hundred yards. SHERIFF (cont’d) Well, now. Ain’t this a twist. The Sheriff raises a gun-arm and takes aim... BLAM! A gunshot rings out and there’s a SPARK across the Sheriff’s windshield. He turns, and there, haggard, limping, with dirty dressings around his guts, stands BIG FRENCH, with a rifle aimed at the Sheriff. BIG FRENCH You may a’ killed Dangerous Dave Madsen. You mighta killed King Fisher. And you def’nitely killed Liver Eatin’ Johnson. But Big French is still alive. We got paid to take you down, Morton, and I- BZOW! The Sheriff vaporizes him, and turns back to the outhouse. But his HUD tells him that Four is gone. The HUD retargets, and shows Four three hundred yards away, heading for the ridge. Four is legging it, panting, bleeding, moving as fast as he can. With a grunt he manages to dodge to the side to avoid a CRACK OF LIGHTNING, and again to slip under a WILDLY WAVING HEAT BEAM that tears up the rocks. With a herculean heave he makes it over the ridge and keeps going. SHERIFF Run! Run! Hey, make it louder! RUN! RUN YOU FREAKY FUCKIN’ FISH FUCKER! The Sheriff’s amplified voice booms out across the plain behind him as Four keeps on running. EXT. SAN LORENZO STREET - DAY It’s a HUMAN STAMPEDE. The townspeople flow down the street towards the ship and its huge open doors. The tripod stomps along behind them, tearing a big ELECTION DAY banner free from the buildings as it comes. It’s herding the people straight down the main street, firing heat rays and lasers to either side and behind them. Peggy and Stewart see Greerson try to escape by ducking behind the edge of a building-- then recoil as a HEAT BEAM EIGHT FEET WIDE erases the corner of the building, along with the hapless Greerson. Patrick gasps and stops, but Peggy and Stewart grab him and pull him along out of the way of another heat blast... Triarch is LAUGHING HIS HEAD OFF up in the cockpit of the Tripod. Primarch walks calmly between the huge thudding FEET of the Tripod. He has the OVUM plugged into another gadget, and operates controls on it as he walks. PRIMARCH Up in front of the ship please, Triarch. Bolts and heat beams lance out from the tripod, prodding the Texans towards the ship. EXT. PRAIRIE - DAY Four keeps walking, stumbling every so often, bleeding, muttering to himself. FOUR Stupid, stupid, stupid, STUPID ...! He sniffs, wipes his nostrils. Then he sniffs again, a little more thoughtfully. He stops, sniffs again. Listens. There’s a faint rumble. FOUR’S POV - He looks to the horizon, and his view suddenly ZOOMS IN much closer, but still not revealing much... just some motion in the heat haze, and dust. He frowns. EXT. SAN LORENZO STREET - DAY The town has been gathered around the steps in front of the ship. Primarch stand at the top of the steps, fiddling with the Ovum, which is now plugged into a console that has emerged from the steps. The Sheriff clumps around a building in the suit and joins Triarch behind the crowd. SHERIFF The lil’ chickenshit took off like a squirrel with a shotgun up his ass. PRIMARCH Hardly surprising. I can use you here at the moment. He operates a button on the console, and after a moment, a SLOW, RHYTHMIC POUNDING sound starts to come from the ship, booming out over the crowd. Primarch turns to the town of San Lorenzo. PRIMARCH (cont’d) Texans, I’d like to thank you. It’s a rare gift to find a planet with intelligent life on it. It makes this part of the process much, much more interesting for us. STEWART But why? Why do you have to kill us? Why can’t we live together? PRIMARCH Be realistic, Stewart. He punches a button, and there’s MOVEMENT within the huge ship... A COW DRONE emerges. But this one’s not stupid. It carries its plasma rifle professionally, looking alertly from side to side. It sees Primarch, goes to him, and kneels. It moos meaningfully. COW DRONE (in alien cow-tongue) Great Primarch, I serve you. More COW DRONES emerge from the ship. PRIMARCH (cont’d) Ah, you are blessed. Now rise, and prepare these Texans for processing. They move forward, and the crowd shrinks back... STEWART LOOK! He’s pointing AWAY FROM THE SHIP, down the street... Everyone turns... At the end of the street is heat blur, and dust, and the striding, returning form of FOUR walking calmly back up the street. He walks towards the ship, where a TOWERING TRIPOD, COW DRONE WARRIORS, the SHERIFF in a power suit, and PRIMARCH await him. He walks alone to face his enemies. Triarch’s tripod tracks to keep him in focus of the cannon, and the Sheriff and the Drones track him as well. Primarch doesn’t betray his reaction. He folds his arms and walks down the steps towards Four. The crowd parts for him, and Four and Primarch face off. PRIMARCH I’ll give you this, Four: you’re entertaining. What would bring you back? Courage? An indomitable fighting spirit? An unbearable need to die along with the stinky Texans? What was it? Four shrugs. FOUR Reinforcements. And a pair of ROCKETS blaze out from behind Four, rocking both the TRIPOD and the SHERIFF with explosions. EXT. PRAIRIE - DAY It’s HERBERT, charging forward, waving his hat, riding at the head of a battalion of APACHES, all carrying --and firing --ROCKETS, BAZOOKAS and LASERS. HERBERT YEEEEEEEEEEE- HA! EXT. SAN LORENZO STREET - DAY Everybody ducks as shells start to whizz in, exploding above them against the ship’s hull, into buildings, another one catching Triarch’s tripod again and making it STUMBLE SLIGHTLY. PRIMARCH KILL EVERYTHING! Triarch’s tripod WHEELS and STRIDES FORWARD down the street, over Four and Primarch’s heads, lasers BLAZING. The Drones ROAR and STAMPEDE after it, again passing Four and Primarch, rifles blasting out at the Apaches in the prairie. The Sheriff blasts LIGHTNING behind the crowd, and they flow, panicked, up the steps, Patrick, Stewart and Peggy caught up in the rush. SHERIFF Move! With LIGHTNING and LASERS exploding behind them, the townspeople go the only place they can -- through the doors into the ship, followed by the Sheriff urging them on. The door slides shut behind the Sheriff, and back out on the street, Four and Primarch are suddenly alone. Facing each other. The RUMBLE and sounds of the battle on the plains can be heard, along with flashes of light and curls of exploding flame. The two eye each other. No words. Then -BLUR!- Four’s guns are out and FIRED, two eye- hurting bright lances of blue -- but Primarch’s already forty feet above, guns out and lancing twin green beams down at Four, who’s himself BLURRED out of the way! It’s on. Four ROLLS, his guns RECHARGING with their characteristic tinny whine. Across the street Primarch LANDS, FIRES, zapping an ORANGE-SIZED BURNING HOLE in a hitching post. Four WHIRLS, FIRES, but PRIMARCH is already BACKFLIPPING through a window of the APPLEJACK. Twin beams slice out through the walls at FOUR, who’s already leaped forward... INT. APPLEJACK SALOON - DAY Four BLOWS through the swinging doors, a CANNONBALL, splintering them off their hinges, FIRING. The upper walkway by the rooms is CORED by beams (more burning holes) and Primarch is already in the air again, unleashing two more beams that lance back at Four, already rolling behind the bar. Primarch’s fingers are BLURRING on his wrist device, even as he flies through the air... EXT. PRAIRIE - DAY From a distance, bright tiny lines of green and blue light can be seen pulsing in various directions out of the town. A cactus in the foreground is CORED by a shot that JUST MISSES us. Herbert rides past the cactus with an Apache firing behind him, and a pursuing HEAT BEAM evaporates the cactus. HERBERT Go for the legs! An Apache rides up hard behind Triarch’s tripod, whirling a lasso. He loops it around the back leg and spurs his horse in a tight circle around the tripod. Or at least he tries to --the Tripod settles back on two legs and JERKS the tied third leg, pulling the Apache off his horse. The leg whips in a small circle, whirling the Apache around like a sling and FLINGING him off. And now, charging up out of the dust, a phalanx of COW DRONE WARRIORS take up position next to the Tripod and start firing. HERBERT (cont’d) Pull back! INT. ALIEN SHIP. DAY The Sheriff in his suit ascends on one flying disc as the townspeople on another follow close behind. They huddle together, trying to stay as far away from the edges as possible. Some children are crying. Some people look up, awestruck at the spectacle of the interior of the ship. Some sit numbly. Patrick stares over the edge of the disc, mouth open in wonder. Stewart turns to Peggy. STEWART Peggy, it looks like we’re gonna die here, so I just want you to know that I love you. PEGGY Hang on a second, Stewart. She hikes up her dress, digs under it, and pulls out a PISTOL. Stewart glances doubtfully at the Sheriff in his battle suit. PEGGY (cont’d) What was that, Stewart? STEWART Nothing. (but...) No. Not nothing. Something. I love you. PEGGY Well, no shit, Stewart. STEWART What --you KNEW? PEGGY You’re kind of a heart-on-yer-sleeve sorta guy, Stewart. Not too tough to figure out. STEWART So, uh... do you love me? PEGGY Been considerin it. Turns out it had a lot to do with whether you ever got up the guts to do anything about it. STEWART Wow. Wow. Wow! He suddenly realizes where he is. STEWART (cont’d) We’re still gonna die, though, right? PEGGY I figure. EXT. SAN LORENZO STREET - DAY Primarch comes WHIZZING out of the Applejack, FIRING BACK, followed closely by another BEAM. His fingers BLUR on his wrist device. INT. ALIEN SHIP. DAY The gargantuan steel doors with the tripartite logo suddenly RUMBLE... and begin to SLIDE OPEN. Something very big and very angry GROWLS. EXT. SAN LORENZO STREET - DAY FOUR barrels out another window, rolls... and looks up, slack-jawed. FOUR He didn’t. He wouldn’t. The front wall of the ship is rolling back, and from the shadows within comes a horrific, earth-shaking HOWL. A massive white claw, fully twenty feet wide, emerges into the light with a thunderous footfall. This is followed by the bulk of TRICLOPTOR! A hundred-foot tall chalk-white battle beast with three thick, clawed legs, three burning red eyes, and a vast maw teeming with jagged 3-foot teeth. Huge cybernetic shoulder-cannons are mounted on either side of its giant pulsating brain. FOUR Oh Jesus-- TRICLOPTOR! Primarch LEAPS from behind a corner, and Tricloptor ducks to pick him up. Primarch jumps into a shiny silver COCKPIT installed just behind Tricloptor’s pulsing brain- case, where he grabs a silver control-cap and slaps it on. PRIMARCH I wish it hadn’t come to this, Four. I wanted to take the planet intact. Tricloptor lets out another mammoth HOWL, and a giant LAUNCHER unfolds to fire SIX SILVER GUIDED MISSILES at Four. He SPRINGS behind a building, but the projectiles CORNER EASILY and home in. Another window of the Applejack shatters as Four evades by leaping BACK into the building. INT. APPLEJACK SALOON - DAY The inside, however, is now on FIRE, and Four lands on a table engulfed in flames and BOUNCES OFF to land on the floor. The silver projectiles ZING! through the window into the burning room. FOUR’s already in the air, up to the balcony, CORING the locks on one of the doors to the rooms and smashing it open. INT. APPLEJACK SALOON HOTEL ROOM - DAY. Four rolls through to the vanity, which has a mirror on it. He grabs the edge, turns it to reveal the PROJECTILES zipping up level with the room. He heaves on the vanity, sending it spinning, throwing flashes of light and reflections everywhere. Then a bounce off the bed and through the window as the projectiles SLAM one by one into the mirror and EXPLODE. EXT. SAN LORENZO STREET - DAY The second floor of the Applejack GOES UP IN A BALL OF FLAME as Four smashes out the window and lands, along with a hail of burning ash and dust, on the next rooftop. He looks back. The curling wall of flames goes BLACK into smoke -- then WHOOSHES ASIDE as Tricloptor climbs atop the burning Applejack, SCREECHING. Four ROLLS as a HEAT BEAM from a shoulder cannon slices the building he’s on RIGHT DOWN THE MIDDLE. He dodges, jumps, the beam SLICING INTO THE BUILDING like a tomato. Mid-leap he spins in air and FIRES. Tricloptor’s MISSILE LAUNCHER explodes and the beast HOWLS IN FURY. PRIMARCH Tricloptor, pursue! Then Four leaps onto the next rooftop, but Tricloptor BOUNDS after him, settling with a CRUNCH on the roof Four just left. Four wheels, FIRES --at the corners of the building. With a GROAN the building COLLAPSES under the weight of the monster, which STUMBLES in the wreckage but recovers quickly and climbs up onto the next building... though Four’s already leapt to the next... INT. TOP OF BIOMATERIAL TANK. DAY The discs unload the Sheriff and the town on the grill covering the tank. SHERIFF Well, folks, here’s where you all get melted. BLAM! a bullet pings off the cockpit of the suit. He turns, sees Peggy with the gun. Stewart gulps, pulls Peggy back, and steps FORWARD. STEWART Sheriff! For God’s sake, think about what you’re doing! You’re not crazy! You’re not THIS crazy! You don’t really want to kill everybody, do you? The Sheriff regards Stewart disdainfully. SHERIFF (to the suit) Melt him. The melting sphere on its boom swings out towards Stewart. Stewart panics, and runs. The boom zigs and zags --POP! POP! POP!-- after him, until desperate, he leaps --RIGHT AT THE SHERIFF. The boom tracks to follow, and swings over BOTH OF THEM. SHERIFF (cont’d) WAIT! NO MELTIN’! The sphere buzzes, and doesn’t fire. Stewart, crouched between the Sheriff’s legs, looks up -- and sees a GLOWING BUTTON, high in the crotch of the suit. On it is an unmistakable diagram -- an alien being ejected from the suit. STEWART No way... Stewart standing-jumps for it, REACHING as high as he can... and just manages to hit the button. BLEEP! The suit shudders, sags, -- then its back hatch POPS open and dumps the Sheriff out. He crashes to the metal grill, wearing nothing but some grimy long underwear. ROARING, he leaps to his feet... ... and Stewart steps forward and DECKS HIM with a looping uppercut that knocks him stumbling back to crash at PEGGY’S FEET. She looks down, astonished, then looks up at Stewart. PATRICK Holy crap, Gravedigger, you just punched out the SHERIFF! Stewart, holding his bruised hand, pulls himself erect. STEWART Reckon I did. EXT. SAN LORENZO STREET - DAY FWOOSH! The HEAT BEAM lances down! Four rolls forward and dives behind one of Tricloptor’s huge clawed feet. The beam cannon swings back and forth, trying to get a bead on Four as he dodges behind the foot. Then the foot LIFTS twenty feet in the air and comes CRASHING DOWN at Four -- he barely dodges out of the way as it hits with a THOOM! The foot goes up again, and Four gets moving. THOOM! THOOM! THOOM! Four jumps like a frog down the street, barely staying ahead of the huge stomping feet of the leviathan crashing after him. WHOMP! a swinging claw catches Four a GLANCING BLOW, enough to send him hurtling through the air to land at the top of the steps to the ship, next to the console. The shadow of Tricloptor blocks out the sun as it looms over him, ROARING. A foot goes up... Four reaches for the console, and taps a button. A white flying disc appears, and Four crawls onto it. The disc ZINGS upwards, just missing being crushed -- WHOOOOM! --under the huge foot. Primarch sees the disc carrying the clinging form of Four ZIP up past him and up the side of the ship. Four can barely hold on as the disc zooms up with DIZZYING SPEED, the ground dropping away underneath. Tricloptor rears back and unloads with streams of tracer rockets, scoring HUGE EXPLOSIONS UP THE SIDE OF THE SHIP. Four leans back and forth on the disc, dodging the blasts. Primarch screams in rage, and Tricloptor starts to CLIMB UP THE SIDE OF THE SHIP, still blasting away, obliterating the enormous LOGO on the front of the ship. The huge clawed feet CRUSH and TWIST the ship’s hull as the beast climbs after the zipping disc. INT. TOP OF BIOMATERIAL TANK. DAY The humans on top of the tank look up in shock at the RUMBLES of explosion that SHAKE the whole building. STEWART NOW what? But suddenly FOUR zips by the outside window, huddled on a disc, and pursued by explosions and flashes of laser light. Thud! THUD! THUD!!!! THOOM!!!! BOOMS of sounds and shakes, and then the huge shape of TRICLOPTOR CLAWS ITS WAY INTO VIEW OUTSIDE! The beast lets out an unholy SCREAM. With an impossible SCREECHING, TEARING, RIPPING thunder, Tricloptor RIPS THE DOME CLEAN OFF THE SHIP. Suddenly interior is exterior as the roof disappears. EXT. TOP OF BIOMATERIAL TANK. DAY Flying debris knocks Four from his disc, TEARING AN ARM OFF. Somehow he twists and manages to grab hold of a twisted girder protruding from the wreckage of the roof. His guns are knocked from his holsters and disappear over the edge. The townspeople stare up in amazement. Towering above them, sixty feet above them, is TRICLOPTOR, crouching in the ruined superstructure of the roof. On the other side, also sixty feet above them, Four clings to a broken girder. Tricloptor’s jaws GNASH and the beast leans down into the room. The Mayor looks up into its descending mouth. MAYOR The fuck--! The people scatter as Tricloptor EATS THE MAYOR IN A SINGLE SNAPPING GULP, then straightens, swallowing. PRIMARCH No! Eat them later! He slams a big red button and Triclopter HOWLS-- but freezes. PRIMARCH’S P.O.V. - Inside Tricloptor’s cockpit, Primarch observes a screen showing the dangling Four. Several crosshairs float over and LOCK ON. Tricloptor’s CANNONS and GUNS swing out into position and train on FOUR’s clinging form. PRIMARCH I think that’s been enough goofing around for one day, Four. I hope you know I’m cheating myself of some fine amusement by killing you now. STEWART NO! Primarch glances down to see STEWART far below, aiming Peggy’s gun up at him with both trembling hands. PRIMARCH (cont’d) Oh, Stewart. Don’t be pathetic. A solitary cannon swings around to cover Stewart, who shrinks back. Cringing, Stewart darts a look to FOUR, clinging to the girder. He sees something in Four’s eyes. Four nods... With a powerful underhand HEAVE, Stewart flings the PISTOL up at Four high above their heads. For a split second, Four and Primarch lock eyes. Four GRINS. FOUR Yes! Then Tricloptor OPENS UP WITH ITS SHOULDER CANNONS, a rapid-fire stream of incandescent missiles rocketing across the gulf-- And Four jumps, one final leap, flipping and somersaulting up through the air over the missles towards Tricloptor... ...reaching for the spinning pistol with his remaining hand.. ...and MISSING it by a couple of inches! His eyes WIDEN as he sees it twirl past his grasp... ...the streams of fire swinging up, trying to catch Four in his downward arc as he flips, spins towards Primarch... ...landing with a SQUOOSH directly on Tricloptor’s brain- case, then bounding forward to... ... LAND RIGHT IN THE COCKPIT, staring up at Primarch. ... the shoulder-cannons CONTINUE TO TRACK FOUR, swinging back to point directly into the cockpit, where they FREEZE. Four, weaponless, cringes in front of Primarch. FOUR That was supposed to be really cool. PRIMARCH Worthless. With a backhand smack, Primarch SLAPS Four, who goes flying off the cockpit to CRASH to the grill sixty feet below. STEWART Four! Stewart and Peggy dart forward to cradle Four’s broken body. FOUR Sorry, Stewart. I blew it. From above, Primarch snickers. PRIMARCH And now you’ll die. BLAM! A bullet spangs off Primarch’s silver control cap. Primarch turns in irritation, to see... PATRICK, with the gun, aiming at him from halfway up the torn wreckage. PATRICK You leave him alone! PRIMARCH (cont’d) Oh, for crying- ZAP! The cap SPARKS, and Primarch yelps. It sparks again, and Primarch starts to claw at the short-circuiting helmet. Tricloptor rears back, mirroring Primarch’s motions, the guns swirling back to point at the cockpit. With a gasp, Primarch pulls the helmet free. PRIMARCH (cont’d) There! He then looks up at the guns and cannons and glowing, smoking muzzles all pointed directly at him. PRIMARCH Oh-- The guns all FIRE AT ONCE, blasting down into the cockpit, LASER BEAMS! GRENADES! ELECTROBEAMS! TRICLOPTOR’S HEAD EXPLODES!!! Tricloptor’s hulk SPASMS and FLAILS, and begins to tilt back over the edge... as the beast topples over the edge and falls, down, FIFTY STORIES, death-rattling all the way, right down and BUH-WHUD!!!! impacting in an enormous gory SPLATTER. A second later there’s a titanic EXPLOSION as the cyber- beast’s AMMO STORES DETONATE. EXT. PRAIRIE - DAY Triarch looks up at the RUMBLE, looks over to the ship and sees the WHOOSH of flame, sees the pieces of Tricloptor hurtling gruesomely through the air. TRIARCH I’m Primarch. I’m PRIMARCH! Yelling, laughing, he spins the tripod and charges toward the ship, the drones following. Herbert wheels his horse, and he and the remaining Apaches pursue. EXT. TOP OF BIOMATERIAL TANK. DAY Patrick hops down from the girders, yelling like mad. PATRICK I did it! I did it! Me! Four grins weekly. FOUR Good job, kid. Suddenly there’s a DEEP RUMBLE, and a shake, and then a sudden feeling of motion... EXT. ALIEN SHIP. DAY At the base of the ship, the explosion has weakened the side of the ship. Pieces of structure give way, and the ship is slowly listing to the side. On the other side, there’s a WHOOSH as the other bottom edge tilts up out of the sand as the building topples... EXT. TOP OF BIOMATERIAL TANK. DAY Everything is shaking as the building tilts. STEWART What do we do? Four gestures weakly at a control panel. Stewart darts up to it, faces down the dizzying array of controls. STEWART (cont’d) I think I know how to do this. He hits four buttons, and incredibly, they’re the right four buttons. With a weak thumbs-up from Four, a huge flying disc appears, picks everyone up, and SHOOTS UPWARD as the building topples out beneath it... EXT. SAN LORENZO STREET - DAY Triarch’s tripod races up the street towards the building, the drones right behind, until he looks up... The HUGE bulk of the building is falling towards him. Herbert also looks up, and prudently hauls back on the reins just outside of town. Triarch’s eyes go WIDE. Then he grabs the controls and starts BLAZING AWAY AT THE FALLING SHIP, lacing EXPLOSIONS up and down the face of it, screaming and yelling right up until-- The building CRUSHES HIM, his TRIPOD, the DRONES, and HALF THE TOWN in an ear-pulverizing CRUNCH!! Herbert is buffeted by the huge cloud of DUST that’s blown back by the impact. OSCAR emerges from his hiding spot behind a chunk of debris, marvels at the devastation, and makes the only appropriate comment: OSCAR Holy fat fucken mother of shit. There’s a slow but growing THUNDER of hooves in the distance... the OPPOSITE direction from where the Apaches are. Oscar stares at the cloud of dust approaching, beyond fear. What now? The riders thunder to a halt in front of Oscar. It’s the U.S. SEVENTH CAVALRY, better late than never. The soldiers stare at the destruction in awe, as the Captain dismounts and approaches Oscar. CAPTAIN Captain Briggs of the Seventh United States Cavalry. Uh. We’re here to help. OSCAR Help? You done missed everything! You gonna be bout as much help as a one- legged man at an ass-kicking party! INT. APPLEJACK SALOON - DAY The badly scorched, blasted, and stomped saloon is home to various of the soldiers, townsfolk, Apaches and what not who are milling about the devastated area. The Captain and several Apaches are talking. CAPTAIN I must admit, Running Wolf, some of your troops’ equipment is impressive. Would you take a crate of whiskey in trade for one of those rocket launchers? Running Wolf takes a deep puff on his pipe and blows it in the Captain’s face. APACHE WARRIOR (in Apache) I say we take his scalp, and cut his balls off. Running Wolf smiles slightly, pauses, then speaks. RUNNING WOLF Why don’t we cut the shit and start talking mineral claims rights and sovereign nation-state privileges? Stewart wanders over to where Peggy is serving the assorted troops and Indians with what’s left of the bar. STEWART Peggy, I’m sorry about the Applejack. I know it meant a lot to you. PEGGY This dump? Hell with it. STEWART Huh? But I thought-- Peggy jerks her thumb at a pair of unusual figures, dressed in BLACK SUITS with BLACK TOPHATS and SMOKED GLASSES, standing nearby with pens and documents. MAN IN BLACK #1 Sign here, please. And the release form here. You’ll be receiving your compensation from the U.S. government in a day or two. I needn’t remind you that this is all contingent on absolute silence. PEGGY They want the whole town-- what’s left of it-- as some kind of official research area. The other Man in Black nails a sign up to the doorframe of the Applejack. It reads: AREA 50. AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY. Other Men in Black lead the Sheriff, handcuffed and still in his dirty underwear, past the door of the saloon. He casts an angry look inside as he’s dragged away. PEGGY (cont’d) So I guess I could go back home to Alabama. What you got planned? STEWART I hadn’t thought that far ahead. Herbert’s invited me to visit him back in England. But-- He glances sidelong at Patrick, who’s sitting shell- shocked at a nearby table. STEWART (cont’d) I kind of feel responsible for him, now that, well, now. He’s got some family down South, we might take a trip down there and see how things turn out. PEGGY That’s awful kind of you, Stewart. STEWART So, maybe someday, if you’re, if I’m in the vicinity, I’ll see about, you know, if it’s not too much-- Peggy’s been suffering through this with growing impatience. At last she simply BELTS Stewart in the mouth, knocking him down. STEWART (cont’d) Wuh-- what was that for? PEGGY Figured it was the fastest way to get you to shut up and lie down. She pulls him halfway up and KISSES HIM FIERCELY. Stewart resists... briefly. Patrick makes a face, gets up and leaves the Applejack. Herbert at one of the stagecoachs, loading his luggage. PATRICK So, you gonna write your book? HERBERT Oh yes! I’ve already telegraphed the first chapter to my editors in London. INT. LONDON TIMES NEWSPAPER OFFICE A whirl of journalistic activity. The PUBLISHER is staring intently at a sheaf of pages. Abruptly he throws them down. EDITOR Bertie’s ‘Life on the Frontier’ piece? PUBLISHER No, he seems to have decided to go ahead with his idiotic ‘Scientifiction’ idea instead. EDITOR Can we run it? PUBLISHER No, it’s crap. Full of regional Americana. Hicks and yokels and rednecks. See if you can do anything with it. The publisher throws the papers down on the editor’s desk. The editor leans over and looks at the first page: THE WAR OF THE WEST by H.G. WELLS EXT. SAN LORENZO STREET- NIGHT Stewart, Peggy, and Patrick are on the porch of the Applejack as the early evening falls. FOUR Are they gone? Four emerges from inside, still skulking. PEGGY Looks like, but they’ll be back. Four brushes himself off and comes to join them on the porch. He already has a new scrawny pink arm. FOUR So what now? STEWART Well, I reckon you’ll be riding off now, huh? Back to the, er, stars? PATRICK Four? Are you leaving? STEWART Hush, Patrick. It’s something he has to do. FOUR No, I’ve got no plans. STEWART Huh? FOUR I wasn’t really planning on going anywhere. STEWART But your job here is done. Isn’t it? FOUR Why would I risk my life for this barren crapworld if I was planning on leaving? PATRICK He can come with us! PEGGY I... I guess so. STEWART Right, sure. Come with us. FOUR Peggy, Stewart, Patrick... I would like that very much. He sits down on the porch, pulls out a cigar and begins eating it. The sun sets behind the smoldering, faintly glowing hulk of the alien ship. We slowly fade back from the blasted town... PEGGY I’ve been meaning to ask you, how come you eat those cigars instead of smoking ‘em? There’s a long pause. FOUR Just tastes better. We’re far back now, the town just a dimming ember in the dark plains. And we’re pulling back now, and up, back into the stratosphere, and now space. Texas, the Americas, then Earth fill our view, and still we pull back, until the Earth is just another star in the ocean of night. FADE TO BLACK.