A XENA FOR THE '90'S
by JayBird (Jay Markle)
Some have wondered what would become of the great Warrior Princess if she were alive today.
Would she be a Healer? A doctor in an ER, or perhaps a nurse or paramedic?
Or maybe -just maybe- her sense of justice would lead her to become a cop...
But if Xena did become a cop, she'd eventually run afoul of the powers-that-be. She'd be framed for a crime she didn't commit... forced to roam the back roads of the heartland, a wanted woman... a criminal hunting other criminals...
.. A RENEGADE!!!
ACT I - PEARL 2
Exterior visual of a small California town at mid-day.
Down in the town square, a black GMC Hummer is parked as Salmoneus Six-Killer paces nervously about, dressed in fancy blue denims, while parked on the front fender of the Hummer is Gabrielle, who is dressed in a black spandex mini-skirt, hose and nosebleed heels. She is busy painting her fingernails candy-apple red, oblivious to Salmoneus' distress.
"Where could she be?!" he moans.
"She'll be here, she'll be here," Gabrielle replies, blowing on her fingers, her strawberry-blonde hair framing her beautifully made up face.
"It took me six weeks to track down these guys! if I lose 'em now..."
"She'll be here."
"You keep saying that!" Salmoneus says. "But what if..."
He stops in mid-whine as a faraway rumble seems to echo off the pavement... getting louder and closer. The unmistakable sound of a shovel-head Harley.
"It's Xena!" he shouts.
"Tolcha she'd be here," Gabrielle replies as she hops off the fender and checks her makeup in the Hummer's rear-view mirror.
Salmoneus Six-Killer smiles from ear to ear as a silver-black Harley Davidson low rider cruises into the square. Riding the chopper is Xena Raines, wearing black leathers, a black duster, boots and Ray-Bans that hide her ice-blue eyes. Her long black hair is windblown from her long ride, in obvious violation of California's strict helmet laws. As if someone who also had a sawed-down .12 gauge pump-gun racked across her handlebars gave a damn.
She parks her hog behind the Hummer, flicks the kickstand and eases off her ride in one smooth move.
"Xena!" Salmoneus says, arms outstretched.
"Gabby..." Xena eases past Sal and puts some serious liplock on Gabrielle, who -although surprised at first- slowly melts in her mouth... and her hands.
"Uh... girls?" Sal says.
Xena pulls loose, tasting Gabrielle's cherry flavored lipstick. Yummy.
"Jezzus, Xena," Gabrielle says, trying to focus her eyes.
"Wh... What happened to the freakin' subtext?"
"Grow up, girl," Xena replies. "This is 1997. Melissa Etheridge is on the cover of Time with her pregnant wife for Chrissake!" She shrugs. "'Sides, we're on the USA Network now. Gotta keep up with 'Silk Stalkings'."
"Oh... Cool!" Gabrielle moves in for another taste of paradise.
"Uh... 'scuse 'm moi?" Sal says. "But business before... you-know-what."
Xena sighs, slipping off her Ray-Bans and drilling Salmoneus with her baby blues. "What?"
"Okay." He points across the square to an innocent looking billiards parlor. "In there are the Tronkius brothers, Terrance and Earl. Terrance broke Earl out of Atascadero seven weeks ago. Since then they've killed four convenience store clerks, three cops and a U.S. park ranger. There's a forty-thousand dollar reward on the two of them for killing the park ranger, plus a ten-K bonus if they're brought in alive!"
"Ten thousand," Xena mutters. "Hardly seems worth the effort."
"Well, please try," Sal says. "We've got alotta overhead."
Xena nods and slips the Ray-Bans back over her eyes. She blows Gabby a kiss and then starts across the square.
"Whatta woman!" Sal says.
"You said it!" Gabby whispers.
ACT II - BLESS YOU
Xena enters the billiards parlor. Interior pan-shot of a half-dozen local punks loitering about and two men playing pool at the center table. Both the men are young, tough and wearing identical black suits, white shirts and skinny black ties.
Xena approaches. Cue the bad guys.
"What do you want?" one mutters as he misses an easy shot.
"Looking for the Quentin Tarentino film festival," Xena replies. "Thought you boys could help."
"Cute," the other says. He turns to the first one. "That's Xena Raines, big brother. Gonna try to take me back to 'Tascadero."
"You must be Earl," Xena smiles. "The crazy one."
"Screw you, bitch," the first one mutters, missing another easy shot.
"And you must be Terrance. The charming one." She grins.
"I hear Folsom has pool tables in their day-rooms. You sure need the practice."
"Billy... Frankie..." Terrance calls. Two of the punks uncoil from the shadows. "Put this bitch outta my misery."
Xena shakes her head and snatches up two of the billiard balls from the table. "Here, Terry. Lemme show you how it's done... Here's my bank shot."
Xena throws one of the billiard balls at the far wall with all her might. It ricochets, hits the back wall and socks Frankie right in the back of the skull. Lights out, pendejo.
"Eight ball in the corner." Xena pops Billy with one right in the forehead that slams him into the corner. Just then Terry goes for the Colt .357 mag in his belt. Xena grabs the cue ball and cracks him on the wrist. He yelps as the gun clatters under the table. "Oops! Scratched!"
Xena turns and draws down on the four other punks with her 9mm Glock as they close in on her, all armed with either cue sticks or broken beer bottles.
"Idiots!" Earl shouts. "Drop 'em, now! This bitch is a goody-two-shoes hero, remember? Her Gangsta Warlord days are over! Loose the weapons and she won't whack you!"
The four drop their weapons and start laughing, they advance on Xena with drawn fists.
"The man's right," Xena sighs. "Now I can't kill you."
Xena aims and cranks off four rounds from the Glock as fast as she can pull the trigger, neatly kneecapping each of the four in their right legs. The four are still screaming in agony and writhing in pain on the floor as Xena drops a business card onto each of them.
"Here. If you're ever in L.A. there's a doctor there who does good work with orthopedic leg-braces. Mention my name and he'll give you a fifteen percent discount."
"Th... Thanks," one mutters.
"De nada." Xena turns to the Tronkius brothers again. "Now, where were we?"
Outside, Salmoneus has pulled the black Hummer up to the curb in front of the billiards parlor. He opens the rear tailgate and carefully places clear plastic sheeting over the rear deck. He then snaps on a pair of latex rubber gloves and a pair of protective goggles.
Gabrielle is again checking her makeup in the rearview mirror as she speaks into a small pocket recorder.
"...but as soon as the gunshots erupted the streets cleared of the innocent! Sal Six-Killer moved in, ready to assist Xena in the apprehension of these scumbags, when suddenly..."
There was a crash as one of the Tronkius brothers came sailing through one of the two plate-glass windows that fronts the parlor. He lands in a bloody heap on the sidewalk, in a shower of pebbled safety glass. A few beats later, brother number two smashes through the other plate glass window, landing in a similar heap.
Xena Raines walks out through the front door. She pats down the two perps, tossing two pistolas, a butterfly knife and a pair of nunchakus over to Salmoneus, who bags and tags the stuff. She then snaps a pair of handcuffs to Terry's left ankle and right wrist, bowing him back quite painfully. Likewise with Earl, who just whimpers.
"Well? Am I going to get some help here?" Sal asks as Xena heads for her Harley. She ignores him. He looks to Gabrielle who waves her freshly painted fingernails helplessly.
Muttering to himself, he carefully loads the two Tronkius brothers into the Hummer, trying not to get blood on his denims.
Xena eases up, astride her chopper, motor rumbling like a caged beast.
"I'll see you in Santa Cruz in three days," she says.
"Yeah, right." Sal gingerly eases off the bloody rubber gloves. "Lissen, I got another job for you. Some girl-gang down in San Diego run by someone named 'Callisto'. She's..."
"Later," Xena says flatly. She looks over at Gabrielle.
"Hey, lil girl. Wanna ride?"
Gabrielle grins and carefully climbs aboard the Harley.
Well... as carefully as one can climb aboard wearing a spandex mini.
"Hang on tight," Xena says.
"Hope you didn't use all your handcuffs," Gabby replies, hugging her.
Xena laughs, revving her hog and peeling out in a cloud of burnt rubber as her famous war cry echoes down the streets.
As Sal watches them leave he can almost swear he can hear Meat Loaf's "Bat Out of Hell" on the soundtrack as the credit crawl starts.
Please send any comments to JayMarkle@webtv.net
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