OVER BLACK WE SEE:
A long time ago, in front of a convenience store far, far away--
EXT. QUICK STOP YEARS AGO--DAY
We FADE IN on the block of stores (Quick Stop/RST), from sometime ago, In fact, RST
isn't RST; it's THE RECORD RACK -- a 45's store with head shop paraphernalia in the
window. A white-trash MOTHER (maybe seventeen) wearing a baseball cap comes into
frame carrying a chubby BABY. The Baby wears an oversized t-shirt under what looks
like a little bathrobe, and messily eats a CHOCOLATE BAR. There are food stamps in
the Mother's hands.
Bobby-Boy stay here while mommy picks up the free cheese, 'kay?
She looks up at the bright sun, shielding her eyes slightly, then looks back at the baby on
the ground. She takes off her baseball cap and places it on the baby.
This'll keep the sun out of your eyes. You be good now.
She walks away, leaving the baby sitting against the wall. With the backwards baseball
cap and the chocolate around his mouth forming something that resembles a beard, the
kid looks kind of familiar.
Then, another MOTHER (also very young) decked out in a KISS concert shirt from years
gone by and huge, feathered hair enters, with a black skullcap wearing BABY slung at
her hip. She sees the first Baby, sitting against the wall and sets her Baby down beside
Don't fucking move, you little shit-machine. Mommy's gonna try to score.
A PASSERBY enters, heading toward the convenience store. He takes note of the Babies
and the Mother heading into the record store, and then stops and addresses her, disgusted.
Excuse me--who's watching these babies?
The fat one's watching the little one.
Oh, nice parenting.
Leave'em out here like that and see what happens.
The Passerby walks away. The Mother flips him the bird.
FUCK YOU, YOU FUCKING SQUARE!
(waving her off)
Ah, keep on truckin'.
D'jou hear the crazy fuck tellin' me how to fuckin' raise you? Motherfucker, man!
Who's he fucking think he is? What's the worse fuckin' thing could happen to you sitting
outside the fuckin' stores? Fuck!
The door closes, and the Babies sit there quietly for a beat. Then, they look at each other.
The larger one says nothing. The smaller one says--
Fuck, fuck, fuck,,,
JAY and SILENT BOB stand where the Babies sat. The Record Rack is now RST
VIDEO. Jay is mid-chant.
(as a chant)
--fuck, fuck, fuck, mother-mother fuck, mother-mother fuck-fuck! Mother fuck-,
mother-fuck, mother-fuck, noinch-noinch, noinch, smoking weed, smoking weed, doing
coke, drinking beers! Drinking beers, beers, beers, rolling fatties, smoking blunts! Who
smokes the blunts? We smoke the blunts!
A pair of TEENS approach them.
Lemme get a nickel bag.
Fifteen bucks, little man. Put the money in my hand. If the money does not show, then
(changing up to Morris Day)
My Jungle Love! Yes, Oh-we-oh-we-oh! I think I want to know ya', know ya'--
(digging in pockets)
What the hell are you singing?
You don't know " Jungle Love"? That shit is the mad notes. Written by God Herself and
handed down to the world's greatest band--the motherfucking Time.
The guys in that Prince movie?
Man, that shit was so gay--fucking eighties style.
Jay suddenly grabs the kid by the throat, throwing him against the wall.
Bitch, don't you NEVER say an unkind word about The Time! Me and Silent Bob
modeled our whole fucking lives after Morris Day and Jerome! I'm a smooth pimp who
loves the pussy, and Tubby here's my black manservant!