“LOVE CONQUERS ALL THINGS EXCEPT POVERTY AND A TOOTHACHE.” –MAE WEST
PLOT SUMMARY A boomtown dentist with a soft spot in his alcoholic heart saves a heart sick, tooth-decayed cowboy from a life of cavity-ridden loneliness.
Doctor "Doc" Brock: An alcoholic dentist with a questionable soft spot in his heart for those with tooth decay
Miss Appletree: Doc Brock's adoring assistant
Mrs. Rappaport: Doc Brock's latest victim
Mr. Rappaport: The husband of Doc Brock's latest victim
Cowboy Jake Lansky: A heart-sick cowboy with tooth-decay
Annabel Adams: The object of Cowboy Jake's torturous adoration
Drunken Cowboys in Saloon: Local fans of Doc Brock's dental skill and drinking ability
Toothless Prostitute: A young woman who has fallen head-over-heels in love with Doc Brock, one tooth extraction at a time
SET A boomtown street.
TIME Summer, 1870.
INT. DOCTOR BROCK’S DENTISTRY – MORNING
(Doctor “Doc” Brock, Miss Appletree)
DOC ENTERS AND SETS DOWN A MEDICAL BAG NEXT TO THE DENTAL CHAIR IN THE CENTER OF THE ROOM. MISS APPLETREE IS IN THE FRONT OFFICE AND REMAINS UNSEEN. HE REMOVES A BUNDLE OF DENTAL TOOLS FROM UNDER HIS ARM AND UNFURLS IT ONTO A TRAY TABLE NEXT TO A DENTAL CHAIR. NEXT, HE PULLS A BOTTLE OF WHISKEY FROM THE MEDICAL BAG AND SMACKS IT DOWN ON A NEARBY COUNTERTOP. HE LIGHTS A CANDLE, PASSES EACH DENTAL TOOL THROUGH THE FLAME, AND ORDERS THEM ON THE TRAY. THEN HE BITES THE CORK OFF THE TOP OF THE WHISKEY BOTTLE AND CHUGS THE BOTTLE IN ITS ENTIRETY, WHICH TAKES SOME TIME AS IT IS FULL. HE SLAMS THE BOTTLE DOWN WHEN IT IS EMPTY. HE THROWS HIS HEAD FORWARD, EYES AND HAIR WILD.
DOC: (SHOUTS) Miss Appletree!
MISS APPLETREE: (SWEETLY, FROM FRONT OFFICE) Yes, Doctor?
DOC: (SHOUTS) Let’s do surgery!
INT. DOCTOR BROCK’S DENTISTRY – AFTERNOON
(Doc, Miss Appletree, Mrs. Rappaport, Mr. Rappaport)
DOCTOR "DOC" BROCK LEANS OVER A JAR. HE HOLDS A DENTAL PLIER IN HIS RIGHT HAND. IN THE JAWS OF THE TOOL IS A BLOODY TOOTH. HE LOOSENS HIS GRIP. THE TOOTH FALLS INTO THE JAR. TINK.
A WELL-DRESSED, MIDDLE-AGED WOMAN NAMED MRS. RAPPAPORT IS SPRAWLED IN THE PATIENT CHAIR.
DOC: Well. That wasn't so bad, was it?
THE WOMAN IS DEATHLY PALE, EYES GLASSY. SHE DOESN'T RESPOND. DOC SETS DOWN THE PLIERS, PICKS UP A MOUND OF LOOSE COTTON AND A BANDAGE. HIS HANDS ARE FILTHY. HE WALKS OVER TO HER, JAMS HER MOUTH FULL OF COTTON, AND BEGINS TO WRAP THE BANDAGE AROUND HER ENTIRE HEAD.
DOC: Now wash your mouth out every morning with saltwater, and I'll give you some laudanum to help you with the pain. THE PATIENT MUMBLES SOMETHING AND SWAYS IN A DAZED, EXHAUSTED AGONY.
DOC: (PLEASED WITH HIS WORK) Yeah, I know it smites a bit. Just keep that cotton in there for the afternoon and concentrate on breathing. We'll get them stitches out Friday. Mr. Rappaport, c'mon in now! Your missus is ready to go!
MR. RAPPAPORT APPEARS IN THE DOORWAY, A LOOK OF WORRY BREAKING OUT ON HIS FACE AT THE SIGHT OF HIS WIFE IN THE CHAIR.
MR. RAPPAPORT: Did everything, uh, go all right, Doctor?
DOC: (DRYING HIS HANDS ON A TOWEL) Yep. She did fine. Remember the appointment on Friday to get the stitches out. Make sure she doesn't sleep with that cotton in there. She might choke.
MR. RAPPAPORT: (SWALLOWS HARD) All right.
DOC: I'll give you some laudanum to help her with the pain. Make sure she doesn't take too much. (LEANS INTO MR. RAPPAPORT) People of a sort of "instability" have a habit of getting attached to it. Everything's all right at home, I'm guessing.
MR. RAPPAPORT: Why, yes, of course—
DOC: Good. Good. She ain't prone to melancholy, is she? Doesn't read scriptures too much or talk in poetry or nothing--
MR. RAPPAPORT: We attend the Presbyter—
DOC: I mean she looks good and healthy. Eats well, looks like.
MR. RAPPAPORT: Excuse me?
A BLOODY STREAM OF DROOL OOZES FROM MRS. RAPPAPORT'S MOUTH. IT POOLS ON THE FLOOR. SIDE-STEPPING MR. RAPPAPORT'S TEMPER, DOC MOPS HER FACE WITH A TOWEL.
DOC: Well, yep, don't forget about Friday's appointment. Be glad to get them stitches out for you. Miss Appletree can help you with your bill. Thanks again, and stop by any time.
MR. RAPPAPORT, RED-FACED, TUCKS AN ARM UNDER HIS WIFE AND BEGINS TO DRAG HER TOWARD THE DOOR. SHE IS COMPLETELY LIMP AND NO HELP AT ALL. DOC LIGHTS A CIGARETTE AND BEGINS TO CLEAN HIS INSTRUMENTS. MR. RAPPAPORT DANGLES MRS. RAPPAPORT AT THE FRONT DESK.
MISS APPLETREE: Well, sir, your total bill for the tooth removal, parts, labor, and laudanum comes to five dollars.
MR. RAPPAPORT: Five dollars!
MISS APPLETREE: Why yes! A pretty good bargain too! Doctor Brock performs a rare service, sir! A service that is very inaccessible in these parts. Personally, I think his prices are downright charity…and uh…I'm wondering if you failed to notice the fee written plainly on the contract you signed just three hours ago? This is your signature isn't it?
MR. RAPPAPORT: You saw me sign it!
MISS APPLETREE: Yes, I did. Evidently you were there. So I really don't see why you are complaining?
MR. RAPPAPORT: This is downright criminal!
MISS APPLETREE: I’m sorry you feel that way. If it is any consolation, a large sum of the fee is due to the high price of laudanum, which is a great help to bearing our patients through their recovery--
MR. RAPPAPORT: How much without the laudanum?
MISS APPLETREE: Pardon me, sir, but if you hope to maintain a level of civility in your home after this painful operation, I don’t recommend that you forego this prescription--
MRS. RAPPAPORT BEGINS TO STIR. SHE MOANS.
DOC PUFFS OFF THE CIGARETTE DANGLING FROM HIS LIPS AND CONTINUES TO POLISH HIS TOOLS WITH A VIGOR THAT ONLY BEFITS A MAN WHO IS VERY PLEASED WITH HIMSELF.
MR. RAPPAPORT: To tell you the truth, Miss Appletree, things weren't all that civil in our home before this toothache began…
MRS. RAPPAPORT BEGINS MOANING LOUDER AND LOUDER, ANKLES SOFT AND DANGLING. SHE BEGINS TO FLOP IN HIS ARMS. AS SHE FLOPS, A BLOB OF BLOODY SPIT SPLATTERS ON MR. RAPPAPORT'S JACKET. A LOOK OF HELPLESS DISGUST COVERS MR. RAPPAPORT. HE PULLS THE FIVE DOLLARS FROM A POCKET AND DROPS IT ON MISS APPLETREE'S DESK. HE SCOOPS UP THE BOTTLE OF LAUDANUM AND STORMS CLUMSILY FROM THE OFFICE, DRAGGING HIS WIFE ALONG WITH HIM.
MR. RAPPAPORT: Oh, damn it all to hell.
INT. DOCTOR BROCK’S DENTISTRY – EVENING
(Doc, Cowboy Jake)
MISS APPLETREE HAS GONE HOME FOR THE DAY. DOC IS SITTING IN THE PATIENT CHAIR, GETTING LIQUORED UP.
A YOUNG COWBOY SLINKS UP TO THE DENTISTRY WINDOW. HE PEERS THROUGH, SEES NO SIGN OF LIFE. HIS REFLECTION ALMOST STARTLES HIM AT FIRST, THEN TAKES HIS INTEREST. WITH A PAIR OF DUSTY FINGERS, HE PRIES OPEN HIS LIPS TO REVEAL A SET OF REPUGNANT TEETH AND GUMS. HE SIGHS AT HIS REFLECTION IN THE LAST LIGHT OF DAY.
DOC SPIES THE CURIOUS YOUNG COWBOY IN THE DENTISTRY WINDOW. DOC HOPS OUT OF THE PATIENT CHAIR AND STEPS QUIETLY TOWARD THE FRONT OFFICE, WATCHING THE YOUNG COWBOY OGLE HIS REFLECTION IN THE WINDOW, LIPS PRIED OPEN. A MUFFLED, GIDDY LAUGHTER BEGINS TO BUBBLE IN DOC. HE TIP-TOES TOWARD THE DOOR.
THE DOOR BURSTS OPEN, AND THE DRUNKEN DOCTOR LUNGES ONTO THE PORCH. HIS BELT GETS CAUGHT ON THE KNOB AS HE TRIES TO SCARE THE YOUNG COWBOY.
THE COWBOY'S LIPS SMACK TOGETHER AS HIS HANDS DROP INTO DEFENSIVE FISTS.
DOC: Hello, sir!
DOC HOLDS HIS HAND OUT TO SHAKE. HE IS STUCK TO THE DOOR.
DOC: (GIGGLING) Did I scare you?
COWBOY JAKE DROPS HIS GUARD.
COWBOY JAKE: No, sir. Are you the dentist?
THE DOC BEGINS TO FREE HIMSELF, AND AFTER A SHUFFLE AND RE-SITUATING OF HIS BRITCHES, HE HOLDS OUT A HAND AND SHAKES THE YOUNG MAN'S HAND.
DOC: And who might you be, m'boy?
COWBOY JAKE: I'm Jake. Jake Lansky.
THEY SHAKE HANDS.
DOC: Well. Howdy-do. I'm Doctor Brock.
COWBOY JAKE: Howdy.
DOC: What are you up to tonight, Lansky?
COWBOY JAKE: Well, I ain't doing nothing really. I just wanted to come look at your 'stablishment here. I had some questions about my hygiene.
DOC: Oh, yeah? Well, let's take that curiosity to my office.
DOC LOCKS THE DOOR BEHIND HIM AND BEGINS WALKING ACROSS THE STREET.
COWBOY JAKE: (POINTING TO THE BUILDING IN FRONT OF HIM) Ain't this your office?
DOC: That's my workshop. Over here is my office (POINTS TO THE SALOON). C'mon boy, let's satisfy that curiosity over some whiskey.
COWBOY JAKE: Woo hoo! I ain't never seen no doctor like you before!
DOC: (STOPS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET AND BELCHES AS HE TURNS AROUND) Well, that is because I am an original.
DOC CONTINUES TOWARD THE TAVERN.
COWBOY JAKE: Woo hoo!
INT. BOOMTOWN SALOON – NIGHT
(Doc, Cowboy Jake, Drunken Cowboys, Toothless Prostitute, Prostitutes)
DOC AND COWBOY JAKE ENTER THE SALOON. AS SOON AS THE COWBOYS SEE THE DOC, THEY ERUPT IN A DRUNKEN, SALUTORY SHOUT.
DOC: Hey boys!
THERE IS A SMATTERING OF HELLOS AND SMILES. EACH SMILE HAS AT LEAST ONE TOOTH MISSING. ONE OF THE TAVERN PROSTITUTES BLOWS A TOOTHLESS KISS TOWARD THE DOC, WHO BEGINS TO LAUGH UNCONTROLLABLY TO HIMSELF IN THE SAME GIDDY WAY AS WHEN HE WAS SNEAKING UP ON JAKE IN THE WINDOW.
COWBOY JAKE IS STUNNED AT DOC'S FAME. HE WIPES HIS NOSE AND FOLLOWS DOC TOWARD THE BAR IN AWE.
DOC: You see, Johnny—I want to tell you something—
COWBOY JAKE: It's Jake.
DOC: Yep! Jake. There appears to be a whole lot of dust on your garments. Is it so?
COWBOY JAKE: Yep.
DOC SLAPS THE COWBOY'S BACK AND A PUFF OF DUST COMES OFF THE JACKET. HE BEGINS TO LAUGH THE SAME TWISTED, GIDDY LAUGH. HE WAVES TWO FINGERS AT THE BARTENDER WHO POURS A PAIR OF WHISKEY SHOTS.
DOC: Ain't it true, then, that eating dust for a living makes you thirsty?
COWBOY JAKE: Why yes it does!
DOC: (THE SAME GIDDY LAUGH) Then down the canyon!
COWBOY JAKE: Down the canyon!
THEY DOWN THE SHOT. ANOTHER COWBOY IS ABOUT TO PASS OUT AT A NEARBY TABLE. HE SHOUTS IN SUCCESSION—DOWN THE CANYON!—AND PASSES OUT WITH HIS DRINK HALFWAY TO HIS LIPS, THE LIQUOR SPLASHING ON THE TABLE. HIS FACE LANDS IN IT, AND A PUFF OF DUST EXPLODES FROM HIS COAT. THE TOOTHLESS PROSTITUTE WRAPS HIS ARM OVER HER SHOULDER AND CARRIES HIM TO A ROOM IN THE BACK. DOC WATCHES IT HAPPEN, AND WHEN THE PROSTITUTE COMES BACK, MORE OF THE SECRETIVE GIDDY LAUGHTER SPILLS FROM HIS THROAT. SHE FLOATS BY AND KISSES DOC ON THE CHEEK BEFORE HEADING UP THE STAIRS, DRAWING HIM WITH HER EYES.
DOC: (SHAKES HIS HEAD) What a world! So Lansky, m'boy, lemme see.
COWBOY JAKE: Beg your pardon?
DOC: Them pearly whites. You gotta show 'em to me before I can tell you my di-ugh-nosis.
COWBOY JAKE: Oh. (OPENS HIS MOUTH WIDE)
DOC: (APPALLED) What happened to you? They're kinda more, uh, muddy white, than pearly white, eh?
COWBOY JAKE: Yessir, Doc. I got quite a problem.
COWBOY JAKE LOOKS IN THE MIRROR ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE BAR AND SIGHS. A LONG SAD LOOK FOLLOWS IT.
DOC: (LYING) Well, now boy, that ain't nothin' I ain't seen before. Nothing to drown yourself about.
COWBOY JAKE: But you're missing something, Doc.
COWBOY JAKE: Annabel Adams.
DOC: Annabel Adams? Don't know her--that's probably why I don't miss her!
DOC BREAKS INTO FULL BORE LAUGHTER, WHICH IS VERY DIFFERENT FROM THE SECRETIVE GIGGLING. HE ELBOWS COWBOY JAKE IN THE RIBS IN AN ATTEMPT TO GET HIM TO JOIN IN. THE YOUNG COWBOY BARELY RESPONDS. HE JUST KEEPS TALKING SADLY…
COWBOY JAKE: She’s like lemonade—
COWBOY JAKE: That's how I imagine she tastes, and I barely ever get to the thought of her lips, to tell you the truth.
DOC MOTIONS FOR TWO MORE GROWING ALL THE MORE UNCOMFORTABLE BY THE YOUNG COWBOY'S TALK.
DOC: Well, love is uh, well that’s uh--
COWBOY JAKE: There's so much more to her, you know?
DOC: (GROWING UNCOMFORTABLE) Yep.
DOC STARTS LOOKING AROUND THE BAR, HOPING FOR AN EXCUSE TO LEAVE.
COWBOY JAKE: She's got these big full cheeks, like her face was creamed ice with two halves of a peach stuck in it.
DOC: (MUMBLING) Well, boy, you sure do wax poetic there, uh—Bartender!
COWBOY JAKE: The way I figure, she's a big cream puff of sweetness.
DOC DOWNS ANOTHER SHOT. COWBOY JAKE DOWNS ANOTHER.
COWBOY JAKE: Sometimes I wish my hands was forks, and I could dip 'em in her hair. It curls out like cake icing.
DOC: (MUMBLING) Forks for hands, eh? Don't know if I could help you with that…
COWBOY JAKE: And her arms, so delicate and full, like the cruel sun couldn't bake her if it tried…like she was powdered with God's sweetest sugar, all over her neck and bosom. And her bosom…her bosom is as beautiful as a pair of honeybuns that got stuck right there in her dress.
DOC: (STILL MUMBLING, SWISHING AROUND HIS SEAT, VERY UNCOMFORTABLE) Honeybuns, well, boy, uh, that’s downright lewd, but I see what you mean, there—I kinda like how you said that--
COWBOY JAKE: You see what I mean, Doc? I spend all my extra money on them sweets every time I think of Annabel, and now I get this pain all up and down my teeth. I can't even talk, I just sit there and ache. I swear, I think God made her out of everything sweet there ever was. And I can't talk to her because if I did, I know she'd make me smile, and then she'd see my dirty rotten teeth, and she'd forsake me in the dessert of my loneliness. I don't think I could bear it.
DOC'S WHOLE COUNTENANCE CHANGES, AS IF HE'D JUST RECEIVED DIVINE INSIGHT. HE POUNDS THE BAR WITH HIS HAND.
DOC: Well, that's it, ain't it?
COWBOY JAKE: What is?
DOC: You got sugar overload, son! I know just what to do--
COWBOY JAKE: What, Doc? You think you can help me?
DOC: I know I can. C'mon, we gotta go to the workshop.
COWBOY JAKE: What?
DOC: C'mon, son!
COWBOY JAKE: You really think you can help me?
DOC: (SLAPS COWBOY JAKE'S SHOULDER) Sonny, less whinin', more walkin'.
COWBOY JAKE: Glory hallelujah!
DOC GRABS THE BOTTLE OF WHISKEY, AND SHOVES OFF, LEAVING A PAIR OF DOLLARS ON THE BAR. COWBOY JAKE FINISHES HIS LAST SHOT, AND THEY HEAD FOR THE DOOR.
INT. DOCTOR BROCK’S DENTISTRY – NIGHT
(DOCTOR BROCK, COWBOY JAKE)
DOC: (ENTERING THE DENTISTRY) Okay, son, climb right up there in that chair. You better take a few more hits off that bottle before I get started. I'm gonna give you the best check-up you ever had!
COWBOY JAKE: I’ve never had a check-up--
DOC: Shut yer pie hole.
DOC STANDS IN FRONT OF HIS SHINY SILVER TOOLS. HE BEGINS TO GO TO WORK, PASSING THE BOTTLE BETWEEN THE BOTH OF THEM, HEATING SOME WATER, SCAMPERING THROUGH AN ASSORTMENT OF VIALS, PASTES, OINTMENTS, BRUSHES, SCALPELS, SCRAPERS. WHEN EVERYTHING IS NEAR SITUATED, COWBOY JAKE EYES THE TOOLS, PARTICULARLY THE BLADES, AND SLUGS HARD OFF THE BOTTLE. WHEN DOC IS READY, HE PICKS UP ONE OF THE TOOLS AND GRINS BIG.
DOC: All right, boy. Get ready. I know I am. I haven't felt this good since Old Doc Wipper sold me his practice.
DOCTOR BROCK ALMOST CLIMBS INTO COWBOY JAKE'S LAP AS HE CUTS AND SCRAPES AND SAWS AND BRUSHES. COWBOY JAKE'S SCREAMING IS HEARD IN THE SALOON ACROSS THE STREET. THE COWBOYS SMILE BIG, HOLD UP THEIR DRINKS, AND SHOUT--
DRUNKEN COWBOYS IN SALOON: To the Doc!
THE TOOTHLESS PROSTITUTE SITS IN A CHAIR AND LEANS TOWARD HER WINDOW, SWOONING.
TOOTHLESS PROSTITUTE: I lub you, Duc.
AFTER A FEVERISH HOUR AND HALF, DOC BROCK TAKES A STEP BACK FROM HIS WORK. THERE IS A DAZED BUT CONSCIOUS COWBOY JAKE, SWEATING AND SPRAWLED OUT IN THE CHAIR. BLOOD HAS POOLED ON THE FLOOR.
DOC: (BEAMING) There are times, boy, when I must admit, that I am a genius. It's almost to the point that I am a freak of nature.
DOC, BREATHING HEAVILY, PUTS A MIRROR TO COWBOY JAKE'S SWEATY, PALE FACE.
COWBOY JAKE TRIES TO FORCE HIMSELF TO OPEN HIS MOUTH THROUGH THE TERROR OF WHAT HE MIGHT FIND. HIS LIPS QUIVER. HE TRIES TO OPEN THEM BUT CAN'T.
DOC: Oh, c'mon boy, don't gimme that! You got to believe!
THE DOC GRABS HIS LIPS AND STRETCHES OPEN COWBOY JAKE'S MOUTH. AS THE LIPS OPEN, A FANTASTIC GLEAM ERUPTS. HIS TEETH ABSOLUTELY SPARKLE.
COWBOY JAKE: (with DOC'S hand in his mouth) It's! It's! A miracle!
DOC: Like I was saying, man. Genius!
COWBOY JAKE: God in heaven! He's touched me through your hands!
DOC: Now go get her boy! You got no reason to be ashamed!
COWBOY JAKE RUSHES TO HIS FEET AND GRABS DOC, SWINGING HIM AROUND THE ROOM.
COWBOY JAKE: It's a miracle! It's a miracle!
COWBOY JAKE STOPS SUDDENLY, SETS DOC DOWN.
COWBOY JAKE: I have to bathe!
DOC: (CAUGHT UP IN ZEAL) Yep! Wait. Why do you have to bathe?
COWBOY JAKE: Because I stink like a man's hard work!
DOC: Yeah, okay! Go wash yourself!
COWBOY JAKE: What is today?
DOC: (STILL EXCITED) I don't rightly remember.
COWBOY JAKE: Saturday! Today's Saturday! I gotta go home and shave and bathe. There's a church meeting tomorrow, and Annabel's gonna be there. Now I can be the man that Annabel deserves! God bless it, Doc! I'm a man with teeth bright as icing! Thanks a lot, Doc! I don't know how I can pay you—
DOC: (SUPREMELY PLEASED) Just invite me to the wedding!
COWBOY JAKE: Oh, you can bet on that. If she'll have me. She's gotta good mind, so I have to be careful. Hopefully I'm a man that she could love.
DOC: Oh, if she's got sense at all, she'll jump right up in them arms. Now get outta here, boy. Things are getting too soft around here.
COWBOY JAKE: (TAKES OFF RUNNING) Yes, sir! Yes, sir!
DOC: The world ain't such a bad place. The desert is a—a—regular buttercup.
DOC FALLS BACK IN THE CHAIR, WIPES AWAY SOME SWEAT, AND HITS THE BOTTLE.
EXT. DOC BROCK’S DENTISTRY – AFTERNOON ONE MONTH LATER
(Doctor Brock, Miss Appletree, Cowboy Jake, Annabel)
CHURCH BELLS ARE RINGING. DOC COMES STROLLING BACK FROM THE CHURCH, WEARING A FANCY TUX. HIS ASSISTANT, MISS APPLETREE, BRINGS HIM A TRAY OF LEMONADE AND SITS DOWN BESIDE HIM ON THE PORCH OF THE DENTISTRY.
MISS APPLETREE: How was the wedding?
DOC: Oh, it was a sight to see.
MISS APPLETREE: A wonderful thing you done.
DOC: (SIPS LEMONADE) Oh, I can't take all the credit. Jake gave me the chance, and I just did what come natural. He really just gave me a chance to do somebody some good. That's what I love about dentistry. You really get to do some good.
MISS APPLETREE: It's an honor working for you, Doctor.
DOC BLUSHES AND SMILES.
A CARRIAGE STOPS IN FRONT OF THE DENTISTRY. COWBOY JAKE IS AT THE REIGNS. ANNABEL LANSKY, HIS BRAND NEW WIFE, IS DECKED OUT IN HER WEDDING GOWN. SHE SITS BESIDE HIM, A LARGE, BEAMING WOMAN.
COWBOY JAKE: Just wanted to say thanks again, Doc.
ANNABEL: Yeah, Doc. I wanted to thank you too. If it weren't for you, I would've never met such a wonderful man.
ANNABEL WRAPS HER ARMS AROUND HER COWBOY. COWBOY JAKE SMILES BIG. THE SUN SHINES OFF THE PEARLIEST SET OF TEETH ON THIS SIDE OF COLORADO.
DOC: (BLINDED BY THE SHINE OF THE TEETH) Weren't nothing.
COWBOY JAKE SNAPS THE REIGNS. HE AND HIS NEW WIFE RIDE INTO THE BRILLIANT WESTERN SUN.
END OF SHOW