Platoon
Crawford laughes.
KING (laughes) Yo getting there Taylor. You be cool now and I’ll introduce you ’round to some of the ‘heads’.
CHRIS What are the heads?
KING (laughes, walks away with Crawford) Later …
Chris alone, breathes deep, feeling the full effect.
EXT. BASE CAMP – NIGHT
A relief against the long harsh, hot day. We see lights on all over the camp, sounds of music, laughter from the barracks.
INT. UNDERWORLD HUTCH – NIGHT
King leads Chris down to a specially constructed cellar-like hutch dug deep into the ground on an isolated edge of the battalion perimeter. Ammo casing and canvas are piled over it, and sandbags surround it. From the outside very little sound can be heard as they go down through a trap door made of ammo crates. Past a lookout (Adams) pulling security, hitting a joint but alert. King motions to him, it’s cool.
Inside is another world. Chris looking around amazed. It’s like a private cabaret for the ‘heads’ who are there cooling out. Boxes of food from the States, beers, whiskey bottles, crates functioning as tables, hammocks hanging from poles, electric fans, tape decks, paraphenalia.
The boys are all dressed up in their Saturday night rags. The clothes are clean, the headbands, the medallions are out, anything distinctive and individualistic. On the tapedeck, Jefferson Airplane’s ‘Go Ask Alice’.
To Chris it is a new world. And RHAH, the resident head, sitting there in all his finery puffing a huge burning red bowl in a three foot long Montagnard pipe, seems to be the lord of final judgement in this smoky underworld.
Across his naked chest, birds and snakes are tatooed. Around his neck a black skull and white ivory cross side by side. On his knuckles ‘Love’ and ‘Hate’ are tattooed. In his eyes, a dancing Satanic fire. A poor rural Southern white, in his grizzled late 20’s, he could be a Biker King. Giving Chris the once-over.
RHAH Whatcha doing in the underworld Taylor?
KING (smiling) This ain’t Taylor. Taylor been shot. This man Chris been resurrected …
Chris wondering what he’s doing here. His eyes roving over LERNER, CRAWFORD, MANNY, FLASH, FRANCIS, HOYT, TUBBS, DOC, other from the Platoon, about 9 or 10 of them.
Rhah eyes him back, hands him the bowl.
RHAH You lame Taylor?
CHRIS What?
RHAH You lame or something?
KING (smiling) … go ahead on, smoke it man.
Chris understands, takes the bowl. Hesitates. Then smokes it. The contact fumes are almost enough to knock him out. He starts coughing. They’re all laughing.
RHAH Your shit’s in the wind troop. Baaaaah!
Lerner replies, his tongue hanging out in parody.
LERNER And Baaaaaaa! back on you.
RHAH (looking at Lerner with distaste) If you’re gonna do it man, ‘least do it right.
Building up to it, his eyes shaking with conviction at the whole insanity of the world, he neighs with all the venom he can muster.
RHAH (CONT’D) Baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!
They all laugh and applaud. King smoking from the pipe passing it back to Chris who takes another hit, doesn’t cough this time, looking around, wondering about these guys.
LERNER I didn’t like it.
RHAH Bah, you’re a child, Lerner. Rhah don’t waste time on you.
They go on ad-libbing with each other, teasing Doc, who’s fairly straight, saying he wants to go to med school in the fall. ‘Be what?”A gynecologist, man.”What dat?’ Francis suggests, ‘Dats a pussy doctor, man – he’s gonna be Doctor Feelgood, man!’ They’re all cracking up, finding every joke funny. As Chris finishes his hit on the pipe, looks up across the smoke, already dazed, surprised to see ELIAS suddenly there – leaning out of his sling in a far corner of the hooch. A Monkey is draped around his neck with silver bracelets, rings, a necklace – like a sensual little Egyptian whore, Elias playing with it, spaced out in a sleeveless vest, tiger pants. Dancing eyes on Chris, he swings out the hammock, comes over with the monkey.
Meanwhile Manny has broken into a high falsetto snatch of blues directed at Chris, joined by Big Harold and Francis, all of them clicking their hands.
MANNY & BIG HAROLD & DOC Oooh Chris, you look like you is high oh yeah, he looks like he is high Ooooh Chris, you know you gonna be that way all night oh yeah I think that you are … Yeah! up now and up to par oh yeah.
Elias pulls out a Remington 870 shotgun, jacks it to the rear, points it at Chris.
ELIAS Put your mouth on that.
Chris does so slowly, a little worried. Elias takes a hit and blows it down the bore – ‘shotgunning’ it into Chris’ lungs. Chris staggers back, coughing. Everybody laughes ‘hey dude – you done had your ass blown away’ etc …
Elias smiles his big white-tooth smile.
ELIAS (CONT’D) First time?
CHRIS Yeah.
ELIAS Then the worm has definately turned for you man.
Chris puzzled by this expression.
ELIAS (CONT’D) (smiles) Feel good?
CHRIS (a sense of euphoria now) Yeah. No pain in my neck now. Feels good.
ELIAS Feelin’ good’s good enough.
As he sucks in a huge mass of smoke off the bowl. His eyes performing a funny little hop, skip and jump, as he holds it, his face turning red.
The monkey jabbers and jumps around on his neck, worried. Elias then blows the smoke out in its face, the monkey hating it.
The Group laughes.
ELIAS (CONT’D) Hey Crutcher. I hear you got a Dear John from your gal. Told you she wasn’t getting ’nuff from you.
Lerner looks up, stoned out of his mind, wearing a ring in his ear.
LERNER Shit. Sold me out for some lame dude with a 4-F.
ELIAS What’d you say her name was again?
LERNER (recalling her image) Daisy Mae.
BIG HAROLD Hey look at Charlotte!
The monkey is sitting quietly stoned, its eyes blinking. Laughter off.
ELIAS Daisy Mae! What Daisy Mae look like Crutcher?
MANNY She look huge and got freckles on her ass.
LERNER She look beautiful.
FRANCIS How much she weigh man?
BIG HAROLD She braid her hair under her armpits, Crutcher.
FRANCIS (sarcastic) Daisy Mae what?
KING Daisy Mae Highway, that’s what. (laughing) Well whatcha want, Lerner, your dick been limp for a year, ‘cept when you’re bopping your buddy Tony up there.
LERNER Fuck that.
ELIAS I fucked this chick in Hawaii man. Couple weeks ago … Oooooh! Wow – outasight. Gracie Slick man, she looked like Gracie man, I shit you not. (remembering)
The look on his face ensnares all of them, except perhaps Rhah.
MANNY What happened man. What whorehouse you go to?
ELIAS No whorehouse man. On the beach.
FRANCIS Sure.
ELIAS Yeah, sure. She walked right by me. Long black hair, tits swinging. Ass like French bread. Legs don’t end right.
LERNER (skeptical) You can plant that shit in Tennessee man, but it won’t come up in Texas.
CRAWFORD So what she got, hair on her tits.
ELIAS I just stopped man. My heart’s beating like a hardon right I got a hardon sticking through my pants, my bathing suit looks like a hutch …
BIG HAROLD I know dat feeling …
ELIAS So I’m thinking to myself – Elias you walk away from this, you gonna regret this the rest of your natural life. So I go after her, follow her down the beach. You know find out if she is what she is.
They’re all hooked into this now.
KING And?
ELIAS Well she was picking up her kids.
MANNY Dat’s dat.
ELIAS No, dat ain’t dat.
FRANCIS Get outta here, she married …
ELIAS Like two hogs in heat. Boy.
Their throats knotting …
CHRIS (joining in) … But what’d she do?
ELIAS What didn’t she do. She fucked the living shit outta me, that’s what she did!
CRAWFORD (sucking in air) Jesus!
ELIAS Couldn’t get enuff …
CHRIS But what’d she actually do?
ELIAS She was a crossbreed, Chinese and Polish.
BIG HAROLD What dat?
RHAH (finally hooked in) And living in Hawaii man?
