Nurse Betty Page #2

YOUNGER MAN:

You want a tip when I'm through?

BETTY:

It's your body...

Betty turns back to change pots. The older man watches her

intently as the younger of the two mumbles to himself.

YOUNGER MAN:

(to himself)

That's right, so why don't you get up off

it...

OLDER MAN:

Wesley...

(to Betty)

I've told him the same thing. Thanks for

the suggestion.

BETTY:

No problem.

Betty flashes the men a winning smile and moves off, one eye

always on the TV as she approaches two local types.

SHERIFF ELDEN BALLARD, 32, a short, tightly wound little man,

sitting at his own booth. Ballard is spit and polish all the

way:
creases in his shirt, a glossy shine on his shoes.

Badge proudly displayed. He sits with

4.

ROY OSTREY, 31, a gangly, bookish local reporter. Betty

drops five ketchup packets and four mayonnaise packets on the

table for him. Another smile.

ROY:

Hi, Betty. You're looking good...

BETTY:

Thanks, Roy, you're sweet... a big liar,

but sweet. I liked your editorial this

morning...

ROY:

Oh, appreciate it. I was trying to, ahh,

give a sense of history to...

BALLARD:

(interrupting)

Yeah, it was great. Really put the whole

idea of "church bake sales" in

perspective...

ROY:

You know, Elden, some people actually

read more than just the Classifieds...

BALLARD:

Why don't you go back to doing something

you're good at... like that Lonelyhearts

column?

(chuckles to himself)

I'll take a refill there, Betty...

His cup is full before he can even finish the sentence.

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