The Runners

She is the One Bridesmaid Left Behind who flew into town for a friend's wedding -- but landed in Las Vegas, Nevada, instead of Las Vegas, New Mexico. She's got seven hundred miles to go and ten hours to get there.

He is on the run from the mob, with a suitcase full of casino chips stolen from the Las Vegas Chip Company. What he doesn't know is that he's heisted $100 dollars worth of potato and corn chips and no one's after him.

He lost his wallet in the theft. She's got a gas card.

Good story idea

Hi you got making of a good story

What are they willing to do to get to new Mexico ?

Will she stick with him when she finds out the chips are are really well chips ?

Brickdaley said:

Hi you got making of a good story

What are they willing to do to get to new Mexico ?

Will she stick with him when she finds out the chips are are really well chips ?

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let's say they'll end up using each other. they've got the conman gene, but neither is the sharpest tool in the box.

They'll get stuck in Socorro.

"Gas, gas or ass", he said to her, reading off a bumper sticker he peeled off a 1970 Ford Falcon, "nobody rides for free."

They meet in [fabricated encounter] in Nevada's Vegas. BTW the Southwest is sometimes defined as the region from Las Vegas, Nevada to Las Vegas, New Mexico, and from Durango, Colorado to Durango, Mexico. But I digress.

They hop in his getaway car, an old Toyota Corolla with the pizza sign removed from the roof. He's on the run so they avoid the interstates and stick to the blue highways. Kingman. Prescott. Painted Desert. Zuni. Pie Town. Socorro. (Don't get too close to the remnant of the Trinity A-Bomb Test.) Gran Quivara. Finally, up to Las Vegas NM, to the wedding at St John's in Old Town. She makes it just in time. Her bridesmaid's dress is crumpled but nobody notices.

They ate all the snack chips en-route, and a peach-pecan cobbler back in Pie Town. She blew him a few times to keep him going in the right direction but they have no future together. He chugs a Bow & Arrow beer and drives off, to find another pizza delivery job.

This just has to be...

They meet at a train car diner on the way out of Vegas. He has the stolen chips and she has a credit card. He needs to get the chips to his buyer so he can start a new life, and she needs to get to that wedding.

Along the way they run into trouble. A flat tire, some bad weather, then engine trouble. It seems she is at fault for the car breaking down. They argue and she deflects her fault in their situation. Fed up with her he mumbles "blow me" under his breath in disbelief over what she was saying. Of course she hears him and tells him "Say that again." "Say to my face." He does and of course she blows him, hoping it will allow them to move on from agreement so they can find someone to fix the car.

While they wait for the repairs he apologizes for blaming her for the car trouble and offers to eat her pussy to make up for her blowing him. She hasn't had sex in a while and she ends up loving it. From then on she playfully insists that they fuck every time they have to stop for fuel, food or to use the restroom. She says it's payment for using her credit card. He promises to pay her back every cent when he sells the chips, but doesn't mind giving her orgasm after orgasm along the way.

Along the way he keeps calling someone, leaving messages. In the final message he tells whomever he is calling to meet them just outside of LV New Mexico at the little gas station along I-25.

They get to LV Nevada just one hour before the wedding starts. He insists that he has to see the buyer before he delivers her to the wedding. His buyer still isn't answering his phone. He leaves a message saying he has the chips and will be at the meeting place in 15 minutes. When they get to the gas station the police are waiting for him, and cuff them both. But when they open the box and find it's just potato chips all they can do is laugh at the guy's stupidity and they they have to let him go.

Relieved that they weren't arrested, she sucks him off one more time as a final goodbye, then they race to the wedding. A bit disheveled she joins the rest of the bridesmaids just in time. She takes her place at the front of the chapel with the wedding part reeking of sex. Then the bridesmaid's eyes nearly pop out of her head when the groom runs in to take his place and it is the man she just spent the last day with driving from Nevada.

she'd blow or fuck anyone to get there on time: gas station attendants for the next tank, highway patrolmen (including an army reservist who she thinks is a cop), the bikers who hassled them outside the gas station, stop-n-rob clerks, the hapless driver.


BTW, I've heard the chip heist story (sans characters) from more than a few Vegas taxi drivers, the casino being robbed is never the same, but the mistake is.


@Hypoxia... excellent, I'm stealing all those details. and to continue the digression, the "Southwest" would generally mean southern Nevada, southern Utah, AZ and New Mex, the Four Corners region, maybe part of Texas and the soCal desert. if you're ever in the area, be sure to take Route 66 through AZ.

on another site this was expanded slightly (the story idea hasn't been fleshed out, but I think I'll tackle that next in the form of a script summary and maybe include one-sheet art (see, http://wrongsideoftheart.com/ for examples and a hoot).

thanks to the both of you for the ideas.

GIN GIMLET STUDIOS
73 Knob Creek Way
Larch Barrens, UT​​

MEMO

To: Sid
From: Avi
Date: 3/2/19
Re: The Runners - trailer voiceover
_____________________

Here's the text for the trailer voiceover. Hope it works. Maybe we get Sam Jackson?


"From Gin Gimlet Studios comes The Runners, a new film by Alan Smithee.

She is the One Bridesmaid Left Behind who flew into town for a friend's wedding -- but landed in Las Vegas, Nevada instead of Las Vegas, New Mexico. She's got seven hundred miles to go and ten hours to get there.

He is a small-time crook on the run from the mob in an '88 Chevy Nova, with bags full of casino chips stolen from the Las Vegas Chip Company. He doesn't know that he's heisted $100 dollars worth of potato chips and no one's after him.

He lost his wallet in the theft. She's got an almost maxed-out credit card."

deRudio said:

@Hypoxia... excellent, I'm stealing all those details. and to continue the digression, the "Southwest" would generally mean southern Nevada, southern Utah, AZ and New Mex, the Four Corners region, maybe part of Texas and the soCal desert. if you're ever in the area, be sure to take Route 66 through AZ.

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I used to live a mile or so from 66 in SoCal. I think I first crossed AZ on 66 around 1966. I've worked old 66 into some of my stories. We'll be back on a small bit of it in a couple weeks as we circle CONUS.

Back to the story. Desert desperadoes on blue highways may face many odd events and encounters. Flash floods. Mirages. Hitch-hikers. Breakdowns. Aliens. Nudists. Prospectors. Rogue cops. Mad preachers or scientists. Ghost railways. Snakes. Haunted adobe ruins. Sex-n-drug cults. Brushfires. Time warps. Wheeled yachts sailing dry lakebeds. Magicians. Walking cacti. Artists. Gila monsters. Dust devils. Nymphomaniacs. Cowboys. Indians. Camels.

Deserts are vast canvases upon which to paint fantasies.

well … that's old Route 66 on an average day. I think I can work the roadrunner and coyote in there too.

strange roadside art and secret army experiments. maybe giant ants. Living mirages and ghost cowboys (which was the subject of a Penthouse pictorial many moons ago. many.)

Which leads to another idea, a literotic version of Blue Highways.

deRudio said:

well … that's old Route 66 on an average day. I think I can work the roadrunner and coyote in there too.

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It was even better on old Route 666 but goddam bible-thumpers shut that down.

strange roadside art and secret army experiments. maybe giant ants. Living mirages and ghost cowboys (which was the subject of a Penthouse pictorial many moons ago. many.)

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That's the spirit! And don't forget skinwalkers (Navaho vampires), huge worms, ominous biker bars, and mine tunnels leading to underground superscience complexes.

Which leads to another idea, a literotic version of Blue Highways.

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Or the old Route 66 TV show, rolling that vintage 'Vette across the landscape, finding and fixing problems, new guys & gals in every hick town.

Steal stereotypes and scenes from every Western potboiler. They're easy.

It's April 2019, the story is told in flashback. Grandma (the Female lead) is telling the story to her (gotta be) 18 year old grand daughter who has an English paper due. "How did your grandparents meet." Grandpa is there (dicussion takes place in grandparents kitchen) making pancakes and he interjects details as they politely argue about whether the guy she blew was really a cop or not and how exactly they paid for that pie. Maybe one of the gas station attendants was gay and wouldn't accept her 'credit,' that's when mom walks in. As her mother and father are discussing whether or not he blew someone for gas. Grand daughter is laughing her butt off. Who knew gran and gramps were so cool. Mom is appalled, she never heard the unexpunged version.

The afterword: daughter brings mom a note from school, mom's presence is requested for a confrence over, "a well written, but nevertheless unacceptable paper."

Love and Kisses

Lisa Ann

CuteSlaveLisa said:

It's April 2019, the story is told in flashback. Grandma (the Female lead) is telling the story to her (gotta be) 18 year old grand daughter who has an English paper due. "How did your grandparents meet." Grandpa is there (dicussion takes place in grandparents kitchen) making pancakes and he interjects details as they politely argue about whether the guy she blew was really a cop or not and how exactly they paid for that pie. Maybe one of the gas station attendants was gay and wouldn't accept her 'credit,' that's when mom walks in. As her mother and father are discussing whether or not he blew someone for gas. Grand daughter is laughing her butt off. Who knew gran and gramps were so cool. Mom is appalled, she never heard the unexpunged version.

The afterword: daughter brings mom a note from school, mom's presence is requested for a confrence over, "a well written, but nevertheless unacceptable paper."

Love and Kisses

Lisa Ann

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First sentence:

Grandma gave off the vibe of a stylish retired porn starlet from the '60s who knew when to get out of the business. Everyone in the family suspected that was so and although no one spoke openly about it, it remained the elephant in the room.


that's another good framing device.

Hypoxia said:

It was even better on old Route 666 but goddam bible-thumpers shut that down.

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Actually renumbered as US 491, which I believe is the Beast's second cousin.

Hypoxia said:

That's the spirit! And don't forget skinwalkers (Navaho vampires), huge worms, ominous biker bars, and mine tunnels leading to underground superscience complexes.

Click to expand...

add the guy from Vanishing Point booming across the desert in a white 1970 Dodge Challenger R/T 440 Magnum, Hunter S. Thompson and his attorney and John Ford on a location shoot with the Duke. All iconic and highly accurate depictions of the American West.

Hypoxia said:

Or the old Route 66 TV show, rolling that vintage 'Vette across the landscape, finding and fixing problems, new guys & gals in every hick town.

Steal stereotypes and scenes from every Western potboiler. They're easy.

Click to expand...

The story would write itself. I'd be the "editor" of a small paper published out of Rachel, NV just outside of Area 51, where people would write in their vignettes, stories and lies about their sexual adventures on Route 66, exactly like the "letters to the editor" from Penthouse, all of them starting with, "I never thought I'd be writing to Penthouse, but … ." This would become a best selling anthology, and I'd be famous all over town, have a chick on both arms, and appear on the Art Bell show.

deRudio said:

I'd be the "editor" of a small paper published out of Rachel, NV just outside of Area 51, where people would write in their vignettes, stories and lies about their sexual adventures on Route 66, exactly like the "letters to the editor" from Penthouse, all of them starting with, "I never thought I'd be writing to Penthouse, but … ." This would become a best selling anthology, and I'd be famous all over town, have a chick on both arms, and appear on the Art Bell show.

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We held an anniversary in Rachel NV and weren't abducted by aliens. So disappointing. I later covered a UFO party there for my newsblog. Alas, Rachel is far from Route 66. Move to vertical Jerome -- closer to 66, and more scenic and populated. I set part of 'Neath Western Skies, Ma! there. "Famous all over Rachel" means 27 people (all pervo hermits) know you. And there's constant surveillance. Read Glenn Campbell's Area 51 Viewer's Guide (pdf) for details. My copy's pages are dog-eared.

Art Bell died a year ago. Whip up the Time Tunnel and head out.

An anthology of Route Sexty-Sex true tales could go far. But no bestiality in Oatman. Leave those burros alone.

Art's voice is riding the ether to Alpha Centauri and beyond.

I've been to the Lil'Ale'Inn (motel café) in Rachel a couple of times. The first time reminded me of the Mos Eisley Cantina in Star Wars, minus the disco band. Groups of people were talking, one group military radio enthusiasts, another set were chasing aliens, a third was planning on getting a camera into Area 51 by attaching a camera to a cow (ranching is the other industry there) and driving it over the base limit line. The place was full of international tourists.

Later we signed the famous Black Mailbox on one of the access roads, it was covered with signatures from tourists planet wide. The local saucer publication has ceased. You might be interested in James Mosley's Saucer Smear, some of that is available online.