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"Last Hour"
By
Matt Paden
 

PROLOGUE:
FADE IN:
EXT. SALOON - DAY
We hear the score of suspense music.
We open with an extreme C.U. of a man's intense eyes. He is Diego an 
outlaw, wanted for murder. Beads of sweat pour down his face. 
We cut back and forth between Diego, Garrett, the bartender and the 
Sheriff.
The bartender and the sheriff both aim their guns at Diego.
With furious anger, Diego goes for his two Pearl Handle Colt's tucked 
in his belt.
Freeze mid action.    
CUT TO BLACK
V.O. BARTENDER
In a world of outlaws, you either kill or be killed. It's a way of 
life. 
TITLE SEQUENCE/MUSIC:











FADE IN:
EXT. JUST OUTSIDE OF SAN MIGUEL COUNTY - DAY
SUBTITLE READS: "ONE HOUR EARLIER"
About an hour and half to sundown.
We open with an over the shoulder shot of Diego, as he stands 
motionless smoking a cigar. 
Exhaling he looks around.
He exits frame, and for the first time we see what he was looking at.
A sign that reads "San Miguel County Population 33."
DISOLVE TO:
EXT. SALOON - DAY
We boom down, as the sheriff, enters frame.
DISOLVE TO:
INT. SALOON - DAY
A dimly lit saloon, only the rays of the late afternoon sun peer 
through.
The saloon is quite; Garrett, a husky bartender chews on a toothpick as 
he wipes down the bar. 
The Sheriff enters saloon.
GARRETT
Mighty fine day ain't it sheriff?
SHERIFF
Hot goddamn day, every bit of it miserable, how's business?
Garrett pours the Sheriff a shot of Whisky.
GARRETT
Quite, it's like some'um spooked the town.
The Sheriff grabs the shot, about to slam it back.
 SHERIFF
I bet it has somein' to do with that wild cat up north, you heard about 
that right?
CUT TO:
EXT. MAINSTREET - DAY
O.S. GARRETT
Some'um about a killin' spree.
We pick up were we left Diego smoking a cigar. He exhales, dropping the 
half smoked cigar to the ground; we cut to a C.U. of the Diego's boot 
as he smashes the cigar into the ground with the toe of his boot.
Grabbing his six, he opens and spins the chamber. Closing the chamber, 
he spins and tucks the Pearl Handle Colts back into his belt.
CUT TO:
INT. SALOON - DAY
The Sheriff slams the shot back, slamming the shot glass down onto the 
bar, his tone changes. He goes off on a tangent about the slayings.
SHERIFF
Your goddamn right, this wild cat killed twenty-one men, if you ask me 
I'd say he's one messed up sonbitch. I say he's probably on the run 
headin' for the border, which would bring'em this way. I'll tell you 
what I catch that sonbitch around here. I'm gonna have me a boneified 
hay day.
We hear the rasping of the stranger's spurs.
GARRETT
What would he be pinin' for in a dried up town such as this?
CUT TO:
EXT. MAINSTREET - DAY
We hear the rasping of the stranger's spurs. 
Were in a C.U. of the stranger's boots as he walks down the center of 
the street.
O.S. SHERIFF
I'd say he's lookin' to hide, word has it, a five hundred dollar bounty 
was posted just this mornin'. 
CUT TO:
INT. SALOON -DAY
Sheriff takes and unfolds a piece of paper, a wanted poster. He hands 
it over to Garrett.
SHERIFF
Won't be too long an will have every bounty hunter this side of the 
desert lookin' for this feller.
Garrett ganders at the posters and tacks it up on the wall behind the 
bar.
GARRETT
Five hundred dollars, what's he look like? I'll shoot the sonbitch 
myself.
SHERIFF
That's just it, no one knows. Everyone that comes across him ends up 
being dead within the hour.
GARRETT
Dead, so they just up 'n die. 
SHERIFF
Now I's don't know if I's believe's that. 
GARRETT
Horseshit is what I say, nothin' but horseshit. So whatcha you gonna 
do?
SHERIFF
Way I see it, couple of slugs between the eyes, take care of that 
sonbitch. 
We hear the rasping of the stranger's spurs against the wooden planks.
The stranger enters saloon. All we see is his silhouette we cut to a 
tight shot of his worn leather boots. We dolly along side as they step 
towards the bar.
Garrett nudges the Sheriff and with a quick head nod. 
GARRETT (TO SHERIFF)
Take a look what breezed in the door.
Sheriff looks over his shoulder at that stranger. Looks back at the 
bartender.
SHERIFF (TO GARRETT)
Christ al' mighty, you think that's him?
The stranger stops half way to the bar; we cut to the bartenders P.O.V. 
He stands there completely still in silhouette.
GARRETT (TO SHERIFF)
I sure's hell hope not.
The stranger reaches into his duster, pulling out a cigar. We move into 
a C.U. as he lights the cigar.
Lifting his head, he takes a deep drag his eyes shift side to side. 
Taking a look around the empty saloon. Exhaling he proceeds to the bar.
The husky bartender clears his throat.
BARTENDER
What'll be stranger?
DIEGO
Whisky.
The bartender pours him a shot of Whisky, slides it down to him.
Diego grabs the shot and slams it back.
GARRETT
What brings you around here?
DIEGO
Just ridin' through.
The bartender looks up at the wanted poster.
SHERIFF
Where ya' headed?
DIEGO
Not sure, just driftin.
The stranger notices the poster on the wall. 
Garrett, goes for his gun behind the bar, thinking this is the outlaw 
from up north. Trying not to give his actions away he talks to the 
Sheriff.
GARRETT
So Sheriff, you think tha'll catch that outlaw who killed those men up 
north?
The sheriff takes a drink.
Anxious the bartender whips out a shotgun from behind the bar and 
points it right in the strangers face.
The Sheriff spits out the drink he just took.
SHERIFF
Sweet Jesus man, have you lost your marbles?
The stranger steps back raising his arms in a surrendering fashion.
Focusing his attention on the stranger, he answers the Sheriff's 
question.
GARRETT
It's him; it's him on the poster.
The Sheriff looks up at the poster to confirm the bartender.
The Sheriff grabs his holstered Colt.
Hands in the air, the stranger continues to back step towards the door. 
Tucked in his belt are two Pearl handled Colts.  
Stepping outside the saloon, the Sheriff and the bartender follow him 
out to the street.
Perplexed, the Sheriff and the bartender look at each other, while 
aiming down on the stranger.
GARRETT
You see, I knew it was him. Why else would he back step to the street? 
SHERIFF
It might have somethin' to do with the fact that you drew down a 
shotgun on him.
GARRETT
So now what?

SHERIFF
I'm thinking.
The Sheriff and the bartender start to argue with each other while 
pointing their guns at the stranger.
GARRETT
Thinking, now's not the time to be thinking. What happen to a couple of 
slugs between the eyes thought that's what you said?
SHERIFF
Ah, I was just playin'.
The stranger looks confused by their actions.
GARRETT
Just playin' what do you mean?
SHERIFF
What do you mean, what do I mean?
GARRETT
You gonna to shoot em' or not?
SHERIFF
Can't on account, I'm not a shootin' man.
GARRETT
What do you mean your not a shootin' man, you're a Sheriff for Christ 
sake. You can do it. It's easy just pull the trigger. 
SHERIFF
I'm not confrontational.
GARRETT
Not confrontational, this is one hell of a time to be reserved. So all 
that talk about you havin' your self a bonified hay day was bullshit.
The Sheriff looks over to Garrett, and smiles.
GARRETT
Christ man, I should shoot you on principal.
The stranger goes for his guns in his belt, whipping them out. Garrett 
sees the stranger going for his guns and fires two rounds.
The stranger is hit. Twisting around he falls to the ground.
The Sheriff and the bartender saunter over to the stranger's body. We 
cut to a C.U. of Garrett's boot as he rolls the limp body over.
Looking up at the two as they loom over the stranger's body. We fade 
out as they say their last lines. 
SHERIFF
Not a word of this to no one.
Garrett spits out a wad of tobacco.
GARRETT
You owe me. You owe me big.
CREDITS:



 



 




















 









Last Hour/Paden                                           Pg.10

(c) 2003 Matt Paden 

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