Red Shoe Diaries (1992–1999): Season 1, Episode 11 - Weekend Pass - full transcript

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(air whooshes)

(spicy Latin music)

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(music explodes)

(low, ominous music)



(birds chirping)

(dog barks)

(mysterious piano music)

- Hey.

(door slams)

- [Server] Coffee?

- Yeah, thank you.

(coffee pouring)

That's enough, thanks.

(cash register rings)

(wistful violin)

Fort Reading, California.

Army base.

Serious desert.



Lots of bones, Stella.

"Dear Red Shoes, when I read your ad

"in the base newspaper, I had to answer,

"if only because it was, you know, classy,

"and wasn't about guns and war.

"It was about emotional pain,

"about trying to understand that pain

"and trying to let it go."

You got that part right.

"December 24th, Christmas Eve.

"They gave us all a weekend pass."

(soldiers chanting)

(bugle plays "Reveille")

(women laughing)

(door slams)

- Ladies!

I must inform you,

that I have attained the materials

to make tonight's mission possible!

(ladies holler)

- Lifestyles of the armed--

- [All] And dangerous!

(lively country music)

(women cheering)

- God created Spandex.

(women laughing)

- Oh, your drinks are rich and creamy,

and I don't mean egg nog.

- Gross!

Quick, call the anthropology museum.

I think we found the missing link!

(ladies cackle)

♪ I don't like no cut back.

♪ There ain't nothing as cute

- You don't have to worry about me and Lucy,

I guarantee you, we are not coming home tonight.

♪ Tank top, tank top, home with me ♪

(motorcycle engine blares)

- Whoo! En garde!

- Whoo hoo!

Whoo! (laughs)

Come on girl!

(tires squeal)

- Ole!

(crashing)

(jazzy bass line)

- Through the bulwark he escapes from the sexy Private.

(engine revs)

- [Jane] Freeze! - Ooh!

Come on girl!

(laughs)

- Gotcha ya double crossing bastard!

(laughs)

- I'm guilty, I'm guilty!

- You swine!

(gun fires twice)

(coughs)

- Shit!

- Oh jeez!

(sensual jazzy music)

Oh baby.

(moans)

Oh yes, folks,

it's a steamy 115 degrees

here in the great Mojave desert on Christmas Eve,

and still climbing.

(laughs)

Please remember to drink lots of water,

and don't leave your pets unattended in the car.

It's gonna be a scorcher.

(moaning)

(moaning)

(romantic violin)

(heavy breathing)

(moaning)

- Oh bullseye.

(serene piano)

(forlorn violin)

(helicopter whirring)

(snores softly)

- (shouts) Who the fuck are you?!

- Aah.

Jesus. Like you don't remember?

Jesus. - You son of a--

- Whoa! - You pig!

- Hey, whoa, hey! Hey, wait a minute,

wait, oh whoa, whoa, wait,

Don't, it's already been great--

Wait a minute, wait, just you were here, okay?

(coughs in pain)

(low, ominous music)

- What did you say your name was?

- Eddie. Eddie Edwards, a singer. Remember?

Jesus Christ, you must remember.

I don't fucking believe this.

This is crazy, I mean,

I just do not believe this.

(scoffs) Come on baby, I mean,

you said you loved me.

And you honestly don't remember a thing?

- No.

- Oh, well, this is a serious blow to my masculine ego.

Goddamn. I've had girls forget my phone number before,

I've had girls forget my last name,

I've even had girls forget my first name,

but never ever ever ever

have I ever had a girl forget everything.

Oh, darling, I mean everything.

Hello?

Oh come on, baby, you gotta remember.

(bar patrons cheer)

Exhibit A: proof of intent.

Exhibit B: probable cause.

- Oh my God.

Nothing like this has ever happened to me before.

Okay, once.

I came home with only one shoe,

and I couldn't remember where I left the other one,

and it turned out some,

some guy in jail had the other one.

There was that business about the

attempted robbery at the Circle K,

but I'm sure I had nothing to do with it.

At least I'm pretty sure.

- Any other times?

- There was Thanksgiving.

I woke up in a Greyhound station in Santa Cruz,

two days later.

It was tequila then, too.

- Tequila. Te-kill-ya.

This, this is how it all started.

Are you okay?

- I'm fine.

I'm always fine.

- No, I mean,

don't you ever worry about getting shitfaced like that?

I mean, blacking out, it's not really, you know, healthy.

- And it's not, really, you know, any of your business.

- You know, I only ask because I care.

- (scoffs) Care? You just met me.

You picked me up at a bar because I was drunk,

and now you give me this "care" crap? Please.

People have been together for years,

who have been through life and death together,

people who are married don't always care.

(cabinet crashes)

They can still turn around and shit on you!

So just don't tell me that you care

about some drunk bimbo you met at a bar.

- Hey, hey, hey, I did not pick you up

because you were drunk.

I picked you up because I thought you were beautiful.

- What a steaming pile of shit!

(glass shatters)

Fuck!

- Let me see that.

- It's fine, it's just a cut. - That's pretty bad.

- I said it's nothing, so back off!

- Jesus Christ.

Give me your hand.

- What the fuck is your problem?

Let go, what the fuck is your problem?

- Look, you're bleeding pretty bad.

- I don't want your help.

I don't need your help!

I don't need anybody's fucking help,

like I'm some sort of charity case.

What?

You think I can't take care of myself,

is that it, huh?

Can't get by without a man to help me, is that it?

I'm fine, get it! I'm fine!

(glass shatters)

(cries) Everything under my life is under control!

(sobs) Absolute and completely under control!

I don't need,

I don't need Jack!

(wailing)

(doors crash open)

(grunts in pain)

Let go of him, you're hurting him!

- Motherfucker!

(furniture crashing)

Leave her alone, you cocksucker,

you're hurting her!

Goddamn it, she didn't do it!

I did everything!

- Let him go! Let him go!

- Aah fuck. Goddamn.

- All right. Thank you.

Now I wanna know what went on here.

Private Chandler, I've been meaning to have a talk with you

for a couple of months now.

If you weren't such a fine soldier,

I'd have thrown in a brig a long time ago.

And this shit! Vandalizing government property.

Now I know you know what's going down

with your husband in Okinawa.

We all know. And we all know Jack.

But boys will be boys.

That's what separates them from men.

If I were you I'd do yourself a little favor, honey.

Face reality! Clean up your act!

Get on with your life!

You will help her clean up this mess.

Let's go.

(door slams shut)

- I'm sorry.

I'm so sorry.

I don't know how any of this happened,

or why he had to get involved.

I'm sorry.

- Shh.

We're gonna make everything okay.

I promise.

(birds chirping)

(rain pouring outside)

- You should call him.

- I can't.

- Why not?

- I wouldn't know what to say.

- Well, what do you wanna say?

- Goodbye.

- Are you sure?

- She's pregnant with his child,

he says he loves her,

I think that's pretty damn sure.

- Just one word.

That's all, just one word, just say goodbye.

Take this.

- Jack. It's Jane.

I just wanted to say goodbye.

Merry Christmas.

Yeah.

(soft piano music)

- Come here. Come here.

Close your eyes.

- Why?

- Just, I wanna try something, close your eyes.

Do you feel this? The beating?

- No.

- And this. Your pulse, do you feel it?

- Nothing.

- And this.

Your breath.

Your words.

Do you feel them?

(breathes heavily)

(peaceful, romantic music)

(violin plays longingly)

- Eddie had to leave the next day

for a New Year's Eve gig in Dallas.

He called me when he got there to make sure I was okay.

And to say he wrote a song for me.

Can you imagine that?

Just when I thought it was over,

hope raised her beautiful head.

(romantic saxophone music)

- What a Christmas.

What an experience.

What a guy.

Merry Christmas, kids.

You see, Stella?

I told you there was a Santa Claus.

(saxophone wa