Dark. Smoky. And it's packed. Mostly with men. Hard workers and hard drinkers. Women with too much make-up. Pool tables off to one side, and a jukebox, gyrating to its own wicked, honky tonk funk.

Several of Sparky's pallbearers sit at the bar. One is DON, the cop, and the other is RUSTY, a red-headed giant who always breathes with his mouth open.

Oras sits a few stools down from them. He darts his hand into the nearby tip jar and sneaks out a dollar, then slams the bill on the counter.

SHANK, the bartender, gives Oras a suspicious look. Shank was also a pallbearer for Sparky, and he's not wearing a shirt.

A drunken Don and Rusty lean heavily over Oras, who casually sips his drink.

You know, doc, I remember you.
You're the dipshit that didn't dig
Sparky's grave wide enough.

That's right.

It was an extra-wide coffin. What'd
they do, bury him with his shoulder
pads on?

Don and Rusty's eyes light with fury. Shank, the bartender, leans in close to Oras.

As a matter of fact, they DID.

Oras laughs full out and slaps his hand on the counter. Don grabs Oras by the arm.

Those are nice looking shoes, doc.
Where'd you get 'em?

Oras quickly sobers up. Don looks at his friends.

Police report said Sparky's shoes
were missing when they found him.

The three guys look at Oras.

It's none of your business where I shop.

Them shoes look a little big to me.
You wouldn't happen to know the size
right off, would you?

Oras crosses his arms. Defiant.

The size of a man's shoes
is personal.

Everybody knows Sparky wore a size
thirteen. Them shoes wouldn't be
size thirteen, would they?

Oras's eyes betray his fear as he looks at the men surrounding him.

In one swift movement, Don and Rusty grab Oras by the arms and lift him backwards out fo his seat and down on his back onto a nearby table. Shank vaults over the bar and tries to grab ahold of one of Oras's wildly kicking feet.

Others in the bar begin to take notice of the commotion. The men at Zack's table watch, amused. Except for Zack. He looks concerned.

Shank finally manages to grab one of Oras's feet. He looks on the sole of the shoe and sees the number thirteen.

You know, guys, it's funny. Either
this old bum and Sparky wore the
same sized shoes, or --

He pulls off one of the shoes. Oras's toes wriggle through a hole in his sock.

These shoes were stolen!

He pulls off the other shoe.

You ticklish, old man?

He starts tickling Oras's feet with a vengeance. Oras kicks and wriggles in violent spasms, and finally erupts in a piercing scream of agony.

People in the bar have begun to gather around. Most are laughing. Zack gets up, determined, and strides over to the men.

Don and Rusty do their best to hold the bucking, screaming Oras in place while Shank tickles.

Zack grabs Shank's arm.

Hey, why don't you ease up on the guy?

Shank gives him an impatient look, then shoves Zack away with one arm. Zack falls backwards over some chairs. Shank resumes his tickling, and Oras resumes his whooping scream, growing weaker by the moment.

Zack spots a fire extinguisher strapped to a nearby pole. He goes for it and yanks it free. Suddenly, as if from mowhere, Zack steps up and sprays a blast of white foam into Shank's face. Don and Rusty get it next.

The guys release Oras and grab their faces, coughing and wheezing in a fit. A barefoot Oras scrambles up and the two men shove their way through the crowd to the front door.


As Zack and Oras speed out of the lot in the Cadillac convertible. The skeleton is still propped awkwardly in back.

The three bullies come rushing out of the front door. Furious. White foam in their hair. They pile into a pickup truck, and the chase is on.

--written by
Jay Stapleton

Scene List | Zack & Reba | Ducey on Film