“Tripwire” – Act ?? Scene ??
“Is This A Dagger Which I See Before Me?”

MUSIC UP: “Takin’ It To The Streets” (Doobie Brothers)

IT IS NEARLY THREE A.M. AT THE ISOLATED MOUNTAIN CABIN. THE EXCITEMENT OF LISTENING IN ON GEKKO HIJINKS HAS FADED SOMEWHAT, AND OUR GANG HAS RETIRED TO THEIR SEPARATE PURSUITS. THESE FOLK KEEP LATE (OR RATHER, EARLY) HOURS, DONTCHA KNOW…

IN THE BASEMENT LABORATORY, THE SANDMAN IS PUTTING FINISHING TOUCHES ON A SPICE MIXTURE THAT PROMISES TO BE ONE OF THE MOST VOLATILE EVER – JUST IN TIME FOR BRUNCH TOMORROW.

IN THE WORKOUT ROOM, AJ AND LH ARE HAVING THE TIME OF THEIR LIVES, WATCHING A TAE-BO VIDEO AND IMPROVING UPON ALL THE MOVES. FROM TIME TO TIME, THEY RECALL HIGHLIGHTS OF THE “GEKKO ENCOUNTER” AND LAUGH UPROARIOUSLY.

IN THE COMMON ROOM (RUSTIC WOODEN WALLS IN BACKGROUND, NATCH), WW IS RECLINING ON THE DEEP-RED LEATHER SOFA IN RESTING-WARRIOR MODE, SIPPING FROM A GIANT MUG OF SPECIAL “TEA,” NIBBLING THE LATEST BATCH OF SUGAR COOKIES, AND LEAFING THROUGH THE CURRENT ISSUE OF “SILENT LETHAL NINJA WEAPONRY.”

A CHIME SOUNDING IN THE HALLWAY TELLS HER THAT BDT HAS AT LAST RETURNED FROM HIS AMBIGUOUS ERRAND. OUR PSYCHOTIC MAVEN OF MAYHEM GRINS EVILLY, PUSHING A BUTTON ON HER DICK TRACY WRISTWATCH. THE LIGHTS IMMEDIATELY DIM TO 5 PERCENT. NO SENSE IN LETTING HIM KNOW THAT EVERYONE HAS BEEN WAITING UP FOR HIM, IS THERE?

HER SUPER-SENSORY HEARING PICKS UP LIGHT, CAREFUL FOOTSTEPS IN THE HALLWAY. THE DOOR OPENS SOFTLY.


WW: Checking your email before turning in? (LIGHTS UP)

BDT MAKES A STARTLED MOVEMENT, RECOVERING QUICKLY.

BDT (SHAMEFACEDLY): I thought I might. It’s past three. What are you doing down here?

WW (WICKED SMIRK): The same thing that everyone else is doing down here. Waiting up for you. How did the chopper handle?

BDT: Extra-smooth, once I got it on the interstate. Fantastic ride. I’d like to take it out more often.

WW: I’m sure that can be arranged (ANOTHER SMIRK). So – you delivered the card and – all?

BDT (NOT LIKING THAT SMIRK): Yessssss – I did. And I’m nearly a hundred percent committed to a return visit.

WW: Well, that shouldn’t be too difficult, eh? You have the clothes. You have the chopper. We’re not due for another caper this week – you’ll definitely have the time. Assuming that you’ll take it, of course (AWFUL NASTY SMIRK)

BDT: Well – it was – interesting…

WW (PRESSING): Yes?

BDT: All those enhanced packs of Marlboro Lights on the bar, on the tables – all that ill-fitting leather garb and those clunky chains – I felt positively over-dressed.

WW (RAISING AN EYEBROW): Overdressed? (GETS IT) Oh, I see – you were stand-out elegant. Sorry, couldn’t help that – what’s worth doing is worth doing either exceptionally badly or exceptionally well. I hope you liked the skins?

BDT (BLUSHING – OOH LA LA, THAT BLUSH!!): Well, actually – I kind of – well – you know – they were – well, actually they were pretty comfortable, once I got used to them. I’m thinking about having Sheila make me a set.

WW: Well, another set – actually – those are yours. Compliments of the management. What colors did you have in mind?

BDT (BLUSHING AGAIN): Well, perhaps something in moss-green suede – or maybe even a sort of patchwork camo pattern, if she can do it…

WW: Hmmm, camo leathers! Sounds interesting. I’ll approach her with the idea. I think she’ll jump for it. I know she’s busy right now, finishing a set of leather vestments for an outfit called the Metropolitan Community Church – but I’m sure she’d be willing to consider it.

BDT (TO SELF – “Leather vestments?”): Appreciate it – and thanks. (TURNS TO GO)

WW (PRETENDING THAT THIS IS AN AFTERTHOUGHT): Oh, by the way – where did you take him?

BDT: Ehh – I had to gain his trust, so I rode the bike to Ballard and back.

WW (CACKLING): Ballard! In black leather! At one-thirty in the morning! I’ll bet that was something to see…

BDT: Naah, they’re Norwegians over there – they all go to bed at eight o’clock.

WW: Pass any Keystoners?

BDT: Strangely enough, not a single one. Not even back on the Hill. I think Deputy Dave has his territory well defended, if not well-patrolled.

WW (LAUGHING): Sounds like he has it pretty well patrolled, if you ask me. (STANDING UP, STRETCHING – ENVIABLE MUSCULATURE BENEATH SNUG-FITTING CAMO T-SHIRT) – Ehh, let’s see what the card says, while we’re both here…

THEY WALK OVER TO THE COMPUTER TERMINAL AND WW KEYS IN A SEQUENCE OF NUMBERS. THREE LITTLE BEEPS, A FUZZY SOUND, AND THEN A VOICE – THE VOICE OF TWENTY-DOLLAR DAVE, APPARENTLY DEEP IN THOUGHT? PRAYER?

<<TDD: And thank you for a super day, and for a super evening, and a nice ride on the Harley with my new friend from Man-to-Man Makeovers. >>

WW CUTS HER EYES AT BDT, WHO WISELY AVERTS HIS GAZE.

<<TDD: And please let our paths cross again, and again, and again – and let me find out what brand of smokes he prefers, since he didn’t pick up on my enhanced pack of Marlboro Lights.>>

WW SMIRKING BROADLY, AGAIN THE RAISED EYEBROW. BDT SQUIRMING.

<<I don’t often ask for anything, but I really, really, really want this. Thank you. Amen.>>

WW (EVIL CHUCKLE, SHUTTING OFF AUDIO): “I really, really, really want this…” Hmm, sounds as if you made quite an impression.

BDT: Ehh – I just do my job.

WW: Enhanced pack of Marlboro Lights?

BDT: Yeah, they’ve all seen that movie, apparently.

WW: Deputy Dave really cuts to the chase, doesn’t he?

BDT (WINCING AT THE WORD “CHASE,” BUT BEING GAME ABOUT IT): I guess. (STRETCHING, RUNNING FINGERS THROUGH THAT GLORIOUS EBONY HAIR) – Well, boss, if you have no other questions, I’m really beat. I need to hit the sack before blades tomorrow morning.

WW: Of course. See you at breakfast.

BDT EXITS

WW (LAUGHING TO HERSELF): Enhanced smokes!! I feel like an adventure here. I’ll get Sheila on the phone in the morning.


TIME PASSES…
SEVEN DAYS, TO BE EXACT. IT IS ONCE AGAIN SATURDAY NIGHT, AND IT IS GEKKO TIME.

MUSIC UP: “Rollin’ On The Highway” (Doobie Brothers)

THE GANG, AFTER A HEFTY AND DELICIOUS MEAL CONCOCTED BY LN AND LH, IS RELAXING IN THE MUSIC ROOM, LISTENING TO A REMASTERED CD OF JANIS JOPLIN’S ALTAMOUNT CONCERT. IT HAS BEEN A BUSY DAY, WHAT WITH BANG-MIXING AND BLADING AND COOKING AND ALL, AND THEY ARE ENJOYING WHATEVER CRIMINAL MINDS ENJOY WHEN NOT ACTIVELY PURSUING CRIMINALITY.

WW (TURNING TO BDT, WHO IS SLOUCHED IN THE LEATHER CLUB CHAIR WITH HIS GAME-BOY): Well, Elf-boy, it’s almost midnight. Ready to rock and roll?

BDT: Tonight?

WW (SNARKLY LITTLE GIGGLE): Bien sur, mon ami – tonight. He’s scheduled to patrol from twelve to eight. We want to catch him at the beginning of his shift.

BDT: We?

WW: We. I couldn’t help thinking about your adventure, and envy just got the better of me.

BDT (SOMEWHAT RELIEVED): We’re going together?

WW: Not exactly. (GRINS) You go first, and I’ll meet you there.

BDT: Same shtick as before?

WW: Perhaps. Might throw in a bit of improvisational acting along the way. (STANDING UP, STRETCHING) – Well, it’s time to get changed and get moving, eh? Signal when you get there. I’ll be right behind you. (EVIL LAUGH) So to speak…

LH, AJ AND LN LOOK AT EACH OTHER, TRYING NOT TO LAUGH.

LN: Heh heh heh – so that’s what was in the package! She was awfully secretive about it – more than usual, I mean.

LH: Hmmm, just grabbed it and went up the stairs with it. I wonder what hers looks like?

AJ: I wish I could go with them. It would be fun.

LH: Yeah, but you and I are just too little and too shapely to pass.

LH (SMIRKING): Perhaps you will be sent on an errand to – the Venus Flytrap? One of these days…

LH: Venus Flytrap?

LN (MORE THAN SLIGHTLY STONED LAUGHTER): The Gekko’s sister sorority, one might say. Also on Capitol Hill. Around the corner, no less.

AJ: How do you know all this?

LN: I have – sources. (GRINS AGAIN)

THEY SIT IN COMPANIONABLE AND CURIOUS SILENCE, LISTENING TO THE TAPE.

AJ: Dang, that woman could sing.

LH: You got that right, sistah (HIGH-FIVE)

SOUNDS IN THE HALLWAY, AND THEY LOOK UP.

AJ: So, come in! Model for us! What was in the box?

WW ENTERS, ABSOLUTELY RESPLENDENT.

WW (POSTURING): Like it?

LN (WHISTLES): It’s just too-too-too, girlfriend. Especially the bandanna.

WW: Well, I had to have a little camo somewhere. Just for color, you understand.

LN: A leather camo bandanna definitely makes a statement.

AJ: As does the jewelry.

WW: Crude, but necessary. I detest anodized aluminum, even if it is multi-colored.

LN: Well, you look positively menacing.

WW (GRINNING AGAIN, ENJOYING THIS): Really? (PSYCHOTIC GIGGLE) Hope so.

LH: You packing?

WW: Don’t leave home without it. (PATS THE SIDE OF ONE GLEAMING LEATHER BOOT, MEANINGFULLY). The latest. Ceramic. Flexible. Unbreakable. Don’t think I’ll need it, but you never know. Might need to cut rope – or something (ANOTHER WHACKED-OUT GIGGLE). Well, we’re off. Keep the ‘puter tuned to us. We should be back in a few hours. I know you won’t be going to bed.


TIME PASSES.

THE GEKKO IS ONCE AGAIN CROWDED AND THUMPING WITH BAD DISCO AT THIS LATE HOUR. SHADOWY FIGURES HUNCHED OVER AT THE BAR, FLASHING ENHANCED PACKS OF SMOKES, SIPPING POTATIONS FROM SMEARY THICK GLASSES, TRYING DESPERATELY NOT TO GO HOME ALONE ONCE AGAIN. ON THE TINY DANCE FLOOR, A COUPLE OF RHYTHMICALLY CHALLENGED FELLAS ARE TRYING TO BOOGIE AND NOT ENTIRELY SUCCEEDING.

A MUFFLED ROAR OUTSIDE, AUDIBLE ONLY TO OUR EARS, AS THE FIRST HARLEY ROLLS INTO THE PARKING LOT AND SHUTS DOWN. A FEW SECONDS LATER, THE DOOR OPENS AND BDT ROLLS IN WITH A SNAKY-HIPPED SAUNTER, RUNNING A HAND CASUALLY THROUGH ARTFULLY TOUSLED HAIR, FINDING A TINY ROUND TABLE IN THE BACK, IN THE CORNER, IN THE DARK – AND SETTLING THERE. A SHADOWY FIGURE SIDLES UP ADMIRINGLY TO TAKE HIS ORDER AND DEPARTS.

HE HAS NOT LONG TO WAIT, FOR IN LESS THAN SEVEN HEARTBEATS, ANOTHER SHADOW FALLS OVER THE TABLE. QUARRY! SO SOON…

BDT, UNSEEN, PRESSES A BUTTON ON HIS JUSTIN TIMBERLAKE WRISTWATCH.

TDD (GENTEEL LEER): Well, hello there. Nice to see you again.

BDT: Yeah, same here.

TDD (SMIRKING, PATTING DOWN HIS THINNING HAIR): You brought your bike?

BDT: Never leave home without it.

TDD (BRIDLING AND SIDLING): Oh, really?

BDT’S ORDER ARRIVES, AND THEY CLINK GLASSES.

TDD: To good times.

BDT (TOUGH-GUY, HERE): Whatever.

TDD: So, what brings you here? (HOPEFULLY)

BDT: I’m supposed to meet a buddy in a few. We’re taking the hogs out for an endurance test.

TDD: This late?

BDT: Only time the roads are clear. When we test, we test. We run it hard and fast, until it can’t run any longer. (MEANINGFUL GLANCE FROM THOSE SLOE EYES) Oops, I shouldn’t be telling you this, should I? I mean, you’re a cop. You might ticket me. Or (MEANINGFUL PAUSE) take me into custody. Or (ANOTHER PAUSE, SIDELONG GLANCE FROM THOSE HOODED VERIDIAN AMBER ORBS – BE STILL, MY HEART!!!!!) something.

TDD (HYPERVENTILATING): Yeah, something.

THE DOOR OPENS AGAIN.

BDT (RESCUED!): Here’s my buddy right now.

WW, IN PANTHER MODE, PADS OVER TO THE TABLE. SHE IS TOTALLY, INCREDIBLY, FEARSOMELY BUFFED, DANGEROUS, AND SUPERBLY ELEGANT IN TOP-OF-THE-LINE BLACK LEATHER WITH THAT LEATHER CAMO BANDANNA. SHE IS WEARING A BLACK LEATHER MOTORCYCLE CAP AND SOUTHERN-SHERRIFF SHADES WITH SILVERED LENSES. SHE IS CARRYING A PAIR OF GAUNTLETS.

BDT: Hey, pardner.

WW (HER VOICE A BIT DEEPER AND MORE GRAVELLY THAN USUAL): Hey, man. Sorry I’m late. Hand-to-hand. Couldn’t get away earlier. (SEEMING TO NOTICE TDD, WHO IS GAWKING AND WONDERING IF A TRANSFER OF ADMIRATION MIGHT BE IN ORDER) Who’s this?

BDT: This is Dave. He’s a regular.

WW (REMOVING THE SHADES, REVEALING THE PIERCING, LAMBENT REDDISH GLEAM IN THOSE STRANGE EYES): Hmmm. Regular, eh? He looks like a cop to me.

TDD (A LITTLE SQUEAKY): I – am – a cop…

WW: You do any hand-to-hand?

TDD: Hand-to-hand? As in, combat?

WW: As in combat, yeah. You know – martial arts, kickboxing, blades?

TDD: No, not really – I’m just a patrol officer. They send me up here to keep order on the weekends.

WW (MEANINGFUL GLARE): And do you? Keep order?

TDD (WONDERING WHERE THIS IS GOING): I try to.

BDT: Want a beer?

WW: Not now. You ready to roll?

BDT: As soon as this one’s done.

WW: I’ll wait for you outside. (LOOKS AT DAVE, THAT FUNNY LITTLE GREEN-BERET-IN-WET-PANTS GRIN) Don’t be long.

TDD (ALMOST INAUDIBLY, OVER THE POUNDING OF HIS HEART): N-n-ice to – meet you?

WW: Right. (SAUNTERING AWAY AND OUT, THE DOOR CLOSING DECISIVELY BEHIND HER. TDD SHIVERS, SIGHS.)

TDD: Your – friend –

BDT: Can be a bit – abrupt – at times. I think it comes from being a trainer for Special Forces.

TDD: Special – Forces?

BDT: Yeah – for years. Can’t talk about it, not even now. Pretty top-secret stuff, you know. Government business. They still have a working relationship, for special projects.

TDD: Those eyes – I wouldn’t want to get into the wrong side of a fight with him.

BDT: You got that right.

TDD: He looks – pretty buffed and totally dangerous.

BDT: Ninety-one one-handed pushups, with a foxy little number sitting on his back.

TDD (WHISTLES): Hmm!

BDT: You don’t even want to think about rushing him with a weapon. The man eats steel for breakfast, with a Green Beret chaser.

TDD: Ehhhh – (TO SELF – “Foxy little number – “): Is your – buddy – part of your company?

BDT: Man-to-Man Makeovers? Yeah - owner, founder and CEO.

TDD: I never asked you what kind of makeovers you do.

BDT: You know, total personal transformation, reconstruction, attitude adjustment, physical conditioning, that kind of thing. (LOOKS AT WRISTWATCH) Look, I have to go. My pal has kind of a possessive temper.

TDD (DISAPPOINTED): Oh? Sorry – didn’t mean to keep you.

BDT (MEANINGFUL SMIRK): No problem. See you round.

BDT STANDS UP, STRETCHES, SMIRKING INWARDLY AT THE EFFECT OF THE STRETCH, SAUNTERS OUT OF THE GEKKO.

THE SOUND OF TWO IMMENSE ROARING MOTORCYCLES SEEPS THROUGH THE TEDIOUS THUMP AND CLINK INSIDE. OUR FUGITIVES MAKE THEIR WAY HOME IN THE DARKNESS, LAUGHING UPROARIOUSLY AS THEY ZIP DOWN THE INTERSTATE, ONTO THE EXIT, AND THROUGH THE JUNGLE OF FARM ROADS AND UNMARKED TURNOFFS TO THE ISOLATED MOUNTAIN CABIN.

BACK HOME, THEY BOUNCE INTO THE MUSIC ROOM AND ARE GREETED WITH HILARITY.

WW: Well, that was fun!

AJ (POUTING DELICIOUSLY): You created quite an impression. I really wish I could have seen it.

WW: Well, you and Bat-girl are first up for the Flytrap, if the need arises. I don’t think it will come up with Ms. Keystoner – she seems pretty primed for firemen (SMIRK), but one can never tell where the criminal life will lead.

BDT: Yeah, it was interesting – I’m glad you were with me this time, Boss. He was really closing in.

WW: He should patent that speed and sell it to the United Federation of Planets (THEY SHARE A MOMENT OF WILD LAUGHTER).

BDT: I’m going to go up and change. (EXITS)

WW: I will – eventually. (LOOKING DOWN, ADMIRING HERSELF) I like this get-up! I like the way it feels and the way it looks. Black leather commands respect. At least up on the Hill. I think we should all have skins. Without the shiny stuff, of course. And that aluminum jewelry can go hike to the lake. Leather camo bandannas are a nice touch. Perhaps we can all be suitably attired for our next adventure?

LH: Which is?

WW: Well, I haven’t decided yet. There are so many possibilities – I am going to enjoy my memories for a bit. I think I really had Deputy Dave shaking in his skivvies. Black leather!! Respect!

LH (SARDONICALLY): Being six feet tall, buffed, dangerous and having a ten-inch ceramic blade tucked into a boot doesn’t hurt, either.

AND ELSEWHERE, IN A KITSCHY BEDROOM IN A KITSCHY APARTMENT, A DECISION IS BEING MADE.

TDD: Ninety-one one-armed pushups! Foxy little number! Personal transformation! Physical conditioning! I think I’ll give them a call tomorrow. Where’s that rose-patchouli incense?

STAY TUNED!!!!!!