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A man and a woman drive up. In a car together.

Check in together. Have a room together. It’s only happened about a million times…

Ms. Mercury rolls her eyes. Then she shakes her head. Then she laughs to herself.

MS. MERCURY

(pointing to F.X.R.)

This man could no sooner be my half of an “item” than I could fart toast.

BEA

Oh, I’m gonna steal that.

F.X.R.

As Ms. Mercury says, we have an employer-employee relationship that is proper in every way.

MS. MERCURY

If he isn’t sleeping on the couch, and he isn’t because he’s never slept on a couch, I sure as hell am!

PHIL

Okay.

(then)

You a gay lesbian, Ms. Mercury?

MS. MERCURY

No, I’m not that fashionable. I’m just single.

BEA

No man in your life?

MS. MERCURY

Look… Let me explain this aspect of my life to two relative strangers, as nice as you are.

(then)

A man would complicate my life in the extreme. I need a man right now like your chicken coop needs a satellite dish. I am unattached, connected to no one. The day will come when I chuck it all and bid my boss adieu, and go for the mate, the kids, the hand-made Halloween costumes, all of it. Until then, I’m happily solo, working for this guy…

(F.X.R.—who nods)

Who drives me nuts but can take a joke. I’m making good bank and I see the world, from Tasmania to this lovely inn. I. Have no room. For a boyfriend.

Things are silent for a beat.

BEA

Then there’s my answer.

And another beat. The quiet is all-encompassing, beautiful.

F.X.R.

Listen to that.

MS. MERCURY

To what? I don’t hear anything.

F.X.R.

You’re not listening.

MS. MERCURY

I sure as hell am.

BEA

The quiet. He means listen to the quiet.

MS. MERCURY

Oh.

(she does)

I am really trying here… but I don’t hear anything.

F.X.R.

The only time I feel like this quiet makes me feel is…

(whenever it is he keeps it to himself)

And it never lasts.

PHIL

It does around here.

BEA

I’ve come to marvel in its totality. No matter the problems or worries, there’s solace in the quiet of the night.

Phil looks at his wife. F.X.R. also looks at Bea. Ms. Mercury looks out into the night.

MS. MERCURY

Oh. I hear it now. Nothing. You mean the sound of nothing.

(she listens)

Ooh. Aah.

A distant CAR HORN honks. Headlights appear, and a panel truck pulls into the motel lot.

F.X.R.

So much for that.

BEA

That’s Tommy Boyer.

PHIL

With that part for Bachelorette Number One’s car.

(to Ms. Mercury)

Since you’re not fashionable, you might like Tommy.

MS. MERCURY

(more eye rolling)

Gosh, let me fix my hair…

PHIL

(calling)

Tommy!

From out of a truck comes TOMMY BOYER. He is the most gorgeous male creature on the planet Earth.

MS. MERCURY

That’s Tommy Boyer?

(she is transfixed)

My lord…

She immediately starts primping her hair.

MS. MERCURY (CONT’D)

Oh my. My my my…

BEA

He loves to cook.

MS. MERCURY

(licking her hair into place)

Are. You. Shitting. Me?

The great Tommy Boyer approaches. He carries an engine part.

TOMMY BOYER

Evening, Bea. Folks.

BEA

You eat, Tommy?

TOMMY BOYER

I did, thanks. You call for an old GM fuel pump, Phil?

PHIL

Yep. For this little lady right here.

Everyone can see that Ms. Mercury is smitten with Tommy.

TOMMY BOYER

Hi.

MS. MERCURY

(giddy)

Howdy-oo-doody-doo!

TOMMY BOYER

Car problems, huh?

MS. MERCURY

Yes indeedy. Terrible that pesky little car problems with of mine.

TOMMY BOYER

That it over there? The Buick.

MS. MERCURY

Is it a Buick? Yes. Our sad, bad broken Buick…

TOMMY BOYER

Let’s see if we can’t get ’er running.

MS. MERCURY

Okeydokey. I’ll come pop the hood…

(whispers to Bea)

I keep talking like a six-year-old. Help me.

BEA

Tommy divorced three years ago. Has a little girl. Gave up smoking last summer. Reads a lot.

MS. MERCURY

Got it. Thanks.

Off she goes with Tommy Boyer.

PHIL

Once again, the Motel Olympus works its magic spell.

BEA

(rising)

I’m going to clean up. You men waste time like you always do when women start cleaning up.

PHIL

Okay.

(then to F.X.R.)

Care to patrol the perimeter?

CUT TO:

EXT. MOTEL OLYMPUS—EDGE OF PROPERTY—NIGHT

Out on the perimeter of the motel property, Phil and F.X.R. walk.

PHIL

(pointing)

I was hoping to do something with those ten acres over there, but nothing ever came of it. I once almost put in a snake hut.

F.X.R.

A snake hut?

PHIL

Yeah. We’d have signs out on Eighty-eight—“Visit the Snake Hut: 140 miles.” “Snake Hut: 62 miles. Air-Conditioned!” But then Bea pointed out that I knew very little about raising snakes. So, we just made do with the motel.

F.X.R.

It’s a lovely motel. An hospitable little place. I love the name.

PHIL

Can’t stay here 24/7 without going nuts. One day a week, each of us gets a solo trip to Chesterton to go to the bank, do some shopping. Use the wi-fi at Theo’s Coffee Hutch. Connect to the outside world a couple of hours a week.

F.X.R.

(wistful)

That’s the way to do it.

(recovers his“folksy” personality)

If I ever get one of those laptop computer pads, I’ll try that.

Phil eyes F.X.R. as they walk.

PHIL

What middle name starts with X? Other than Xavier?

(then)

Francis Xavier Rustan.

F.X.R. stops. Knows he’s been busted.

Bea fingered you, when you signed the register. F.X.R. You ever heard the phrase ‘nom-dee-plume’?