Bus Stop Page #2

Ahh.

Ma'am, uh...

Ma'am, I...

Give me about three hamburgers.

- Three? How do you want 'em?

- Raw.

- Honest?

- Well, sure.

That's the only way to eat 'em, with

a big hunk of onion and some piccalilli.

And a piece of pie.

And you'd better set a quart of milk

beside him. He's still a growin' boy.

- Well, all right.

- Pie and coffee for me.

I'm still growin' too, but in a different way.

Gotta watch my figure.

Real nice place you got here.

As much as I've seen of it, anyway.

What's that supposed to mean?

CARL:
I was just thinkin'.

I'll bet that apartment you

got upstairs is real nice too.

Love to see it sometime,

how you got it fixed up and all.

Hmm, don't pour it!

Ahh.

Okay, mister, let's get goin'.

We're never gonna make Phoenix

sittin' around this broken-down,

miserable restaurant.

Hey! You!

All aboard, folks.

Now wait a minute!

I happen to be the owner of this here

broken-down, miserable restaurant.

Don't pay him no mind. You're only the

twelfth human bein' he's seen this year.

- Just his way of talkin'.

- Well, it ain't a way I care a lot for.

- I don't blame you a bit.

- Virge!

Bo, you're plumb wrong about this place.

It's nice and clean and well-run!

And you certainly couldn't ask

for a prettier or a more charmin' owner.

- Wait a minute, cowboy.

- I mean it, ma'am.

And I wanna apologize for

this young barbarian here.

- Hey, what ya doin'?

- It's just somethin' I seen in a movie.

- It don't offend you, I trust.

- Oh, of course not.

Only you just caught me up short, that's all.

Hand kissin'?

That ain't my idea on how to get a gal.

- We know that, Bo.

- Bye, Grace.

So long, honey.

- You the one that plays the guitar?

- That's right, ma'am.

I'm real fond of music myself.

All aboard. Bus loadin' right away.

Good-bye, Grace.

See you in a couple of days.

- So long, Carl.

- Come on, cowboy.

- Good luck at the rodeo, cowboy.

- Thanks, ma'am.

Come back real soon, you hear?

- So long, Carl.

- So long, Grace.

Come back soon, hear?

Talk about angels. How about her?

Well,

she may be an angel, Virge,

but she ain't my angel.

How can you tell?

I'll know.

When I see my angel,

I'll know right off the bat.

Fasten your seat belts and take off your

coats. We're startin' to lose altitude.

Landin' in Phoenix in about an hour.

Well, I'm sorry to leave you folks,

but this is where we get off.

"Welcome, cowboys.

"The town is yours." Yee-haw!

That's us, Virge! That's us!

So long, fellas.

Don't let him take any wooden nickels.

I'll be drivin' you back tomorrow night.

That is, if you're still in one piece.

Don't you worry about us, mister.

We're gonna be all right.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes