Welcome to Apple Valley.

A nominally sized, everyday Midwestern town that at one time lay between an apple grove and the famous Nameless River. The apple trees died in the great freeze of 1977 but the name stayed as permanent as the graffiti on the door of the women’s restroom at the Ginger Head Park, just down the road from the Cheese Castle and Palatino Trailer Park.

Ext. Parking lot – Noon

Ray, Dex and Eric walk through the parking lot of a Golden Yum Yum Star Chinese Buffett. They walk towards a large white Dodge Van. The three of them get in.

Dex (to Ray): Can I ask you a question?

Ray: Shoot.

Dex: Why did we take your van to lunch and not the city pick-up?

Ray: Cause the city pickup doesn’t have a TV/VCR combo with a porno in it.

Dex: Oh.

Ray: Hey Eric, press play on that TV pod back there, would ya?

Dex hears the classic sounds of a pornographic film: the strange sucking, a baseball being thrown into mud, the scratching of beards…

Ray: That’s why we take the van.

Eric (from the back): Is this, ya know… allowed?

Ray: Are you kidding, the whole upper pad is like Larry Flint’s dumpster.

Dex: Oh, so it is allowed.

Ray: No. no. Not at all.

Ext. Outside the Upper Pad – Monday – 12:31

The upper pad is a massive twelve story storage facility where trucks/bull dozers/machinery is stored. There are two other pads: Lower and North. Ray enters the left side hub with Dex and Eric in tow. Burt and two of his team members (Jon and Zodiac) pass as they exit. Burt bumps into Ray.

Burt: Watch where you’re going Ray. If you want to touch me, just ask.

Burt’s hyenas laugh. Jon speaks.

Jon: Hey, Ray. Make sure that Pete kid meets with me on Friday; I need some help with the pool and Barry said that he’d help.

Ray: Okay, Jon.

They all laugh at Ray, Dex and Eric.

Ray: Okay guys, here’s our lady the trash truck. Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday you will be making the rounds through the city picking up all the city trash with Tim. You guys can figure out your own schedule, taking turns and shit. I’m going to take you out today, let you guys drive it around, learn the packing mechanism and the air brakes.

Dex: What happened to the guy before us?

Ray: Oh, well, you’ll hear that story if you’re good and if we decide to keep ya here.

Eric: Why wouldn’t ya keep us?

Ray: That’s exactly what the last guy said on his first day.

Pause.

Ray: Okay, well, after the ride I’ll introduce ya to Tim. He’s down at Ginger Head Park, cleaning up some graffiti. Those fuckin’ kids from Helsinki and theyre goddamn graffiti. Alright – chop, chop shitheads.

Welcome to Apple Valley.

A nominally sized, everyday Midwestern town that at one time lay between an apple grove and the famous Nameless River. The apple trees died in the great freeze of 1977 but the name stayed as permanent as the graffiti on the door of the women’s restroom at the Ginger Head Park, just down the road from the Cheese Castle and Palatino Trailer Park.

INT. BARRY’S OFFICE – LATE MORNING

This office is more of a half garage than an office. The slab floor is cold, always, and gray metal racking shelves act as filing cabinets. His desk barely fits his Barry’s goblin-esque stature and he sits in a throne of an office chair; the back towers over his balding mullet head. Barry squeezes a hand gripper while facing Ray and two young men who sit on stools.

Barry: Okay, fellas, welcome to the city crew. You’re gonna be workin’ with Ray here.

Ray: Hi, guys.

The two guys are Dex and Eric. Eric is a skinny eighteen-year-old with long blond hair and a hemp necklace. Dex is a well-built, quiet twenty-year-old. They both say hi to Ray.

Barry: So, Eric you kind of look like one of those hippie dumb shits.

Eric is thrown and doesn’t know how to respond. Is he serious? An asshole?

Barry: Just kidding, kid. Don’t smoke dope on the job though, we got cops crawling all over the goddamn place. . . So Dex. Is that short for something?

Dex: Nope.

Barry: Bullshit. We’re gonna call you Pete.

Dex: Pete?

Barry: Yeah, Dex is kinda queer sounding or something.

Ray: Bare.

Barry: Oh shit. I’m sorry. It’s kind of old boys club around here but we’re really trying to be PC, well, some of us are. I didn’t mean to offend you.

Dex: It’s fine.

Barry: So, Pete, it says here that you go to college.

Dex: I’m a sophomore at Wisconsin.

Barry: That’s cool. What’s your major?

Dex: Psychology.

Barry: Oh good. Maybe you could help me, I got this ex-wife and she’s turned my kids against me and the courts take the mother’s side and we need smart guys like you to help us dad’s. I mean when you get your degree, you could represent me, help us dad’s out.

Ray: Bare, he’s not gonna be a lawyer.

Barry: He could do it. Couldn’t ya Pete?

Ray: No, Barry. No.

Barry: Bah. So, Pete, you’re brother worked for us, right?

Dex: Yeah. That’s correct.

Barry: “Correct” eh. College boy. Well he told us a lot about you… and you know, I’m really sorry about that gay comment.

Dex: What about it? I mean, why would I care?

Barry: I think you boys are gonna fit in just fine around here. You don’t seem to mind some ball busting and you both seem good.

Ray: I don’t mean to break up the men’s sensitivity circle, but it’s almost lunch so I’ll take you guys out to lunch, not you Barry, and I’ll fill ya in on what you guys’ll be doing.

Eric and Dan say “sweet” at the same time.

Barry: Check it out, Ray, they’re tepalactic/

Ray: You mean, telepathic?

Barry: What the fuck is “telepathic?”