Funny Scene II: Backlash (Part Three of Four)

 JAMES

 Fuckin’ Mohammed shop.

JAMES' REENACTMENT:

EXT. DAY Mohammed Shop window


JAMES holds a bottle of Ciel-brand water, and a bunch of Moroccan bananas. He is waiting for the shopkeeper to acknowledge him. A local enters, puts his purchases on the counter, says some words to the shopkeeper, and pays. James continues waiting.

END REENACTMENT

HORACE

 They do that shit, I leave. Drop my items on the counter and walk out. I’m bloody running out of stores.

RASTA

 They don’t believe in queuing. In Marrakech, though,  you’ll feel some love.

HORACE

In the souk, I wear sunglasses and earphones. You make eye contact, you're done for. This one here, just encourages 'em.

RASTA

One man selling carpets says to me, “Rasta- man!” and he proceeds to grab me by the face like this, and kisses me, both cheeks in his hands, like this. A bit much, I say.

HORACE

The filthy wankers love this one. I won’t even shake their hand. They'll hold it bloody forever if you do.

JAMES

They all have to show you their store. First day in Agadir, I got stuck in a lotion shop for half an hour.

HORACE

Yeah you did. In Marrakech, I just let 'em gather. Didn’t say no to a single one. Talked to all of them, until we had a crowd around us-

JAMES

An entourage, we like to say.

HORACE

Feeding pigeons, we like to say.

JAMES

 Ever go into the hills? You know that gully with the trash? Turns out, it drains directly to the ocean.

RASTA

 De rigueur, mate

HORACE

 Fuckin’ live like animals.

JAMES

 Maybe that's why they hate animals. I watched a small boy yanked sharply away from a kitten. The boy was pulled away and his father went back. The old man was yelling and trying to stomp on the kittens. 

HORACE

Up at Imswam, they was roasting cats. 

The groups’ outrage is lost in this bizarre imagery of cooking a cat over a campfire.

HORACE:

Hair was still on ‘em too.

After a moment JAMES takes his leave. SANGRE
places the curled kitten on
 the seat of the boat and follows.





EXT: panorama beach. Day.

JAMES picks his way across the large boulders that lead to the beach, avoiding the collections of refuse that line the way.  The front half of his wetsuit hangs down, as is the style. He carries the surfboard on his head, and the monkey sits atop the board.

JAMES  

Find a place to stay cool.

THE monkey hones directly in on a group of Berbers who have brought their camels to the beach.  One camel lounges on its side, like a big, spindly-legged dog. SANGRE runs at the camel. The camel snorts and leaps, to the extent a camel can leap, to its hooves. It snorts and kicks at SANGRE, who hisses, teasing the camel. SANGRE jumps, and slaps the dromedary's flank. He is seen skipping away into the rocks as
JAMES paddles out into the surf.



INT: La Pointe restaurant, Taghazout. Lunchtime.

JAMES sits typing on a small laptop, waiting for his lunch. He is resigned to the fact that every meal takes fucking forever. SANGRE quietly gnaws at a medium-sized goat’s head in the shade of the table.



WAITER ENTERS and drops a grimy set of placemats on JAMES’ table.

He proceeds to clean the other tables. JAMES and SANGRE are the only patrons.

JAMES

Are you kidding me?

The waiter moves on, cleaning the other tables.

JAMES

Addressing SANGRE.

Fucking kidding me?

Sangre shrieks, leaps at the wooden table leg, and grips it and shakes it the way he would shake down a coconut. Letting go of the table leg, he smashes his sinewy hands into the ground.

PART FOUR OF FOUR TOMORROW