Double Dutch Bus: A musical odyssey about losing your license (Track 5/6)

 Double Dutch Bus: A musical odyssey about losing your license 

Track 5: Double Dutch Bus

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(FADE IN: A modest suburban home. The sun rises. An alarm clock BUZZES violently. RAY, a disheveled, exhausted man in his 40s, jolts awake. He stares blankly at the ceiling, then groans.)  

KIDS (O.S.) (teasing)  

"Daddy’s gotta ride the bus! Daddy’s gotta ride the bus!"  

(HIS KIDS burst in, waving his revoked license. His daughter blows a raspberry. His son mimics a bus driver. RAY drags himself out of bed.)  

VANESSA (RAY’S WIFE) (kissing his cheek, handing him lunch)  

"At least you won’t be distracted by girls flirting at stoplights today."  

(RAY forces a smile. He grabs his lunchbox and heads out, defeated.)  

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(RAY walks down the sidewalk, adjusting his tie. The beat kicks in. He starts singing, half-muttering.)  

RAY (SINGING)  

"Ho! ho! ho!  

There's a double dutch bus coming down the street  

Moving pretty fast  

So kinda shuffle your feet  

Get on the bus and pay your fare  

And tell the driver that you're  

Going to a Double Dutch Affair..."  

(Neighbors LAUGH at him. One mimes driving a car and speeds off. RAY sighs. He reaches the bus stop just as—SPLASH! A car hits a puddle, SOAKING him. He looks down at his ruined pants.)  

RAY (MUTTERING)  

"Shhhhhhhhhhh-sugarrrrr..."  

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(A BRIGHT YELLOW BUS screeches up, bouncing on hydraulics. The doors fly open—INSIDE, it’s PACKED with BEAUTIFUL WOMEN in athletic gear, jumping rope, dancing, waving at him.)  

RAY (eyes wide, hands up in surrender)  

"Oh hell no..."  

(He steps on anyway. The women immediately swarm him, chanting the next part.)  

WOMEN (SINGING) (playful, teasing)  

"Hizzey, gizzirls! y'izzall hizzave t' mizzove izzout the wizzay sizzo the gizzuys can plizzay bizzasketbizzal!  

Izzsay whizzat? nizzo yizzou izzain't!  

Y'izzall bizzetter mizzove!  

(RAY stumbles down the aisle, overwhelmed. The women keep jumping rope around him. He finally collapses into a seat—then has a dark fantasy: He pulls out a GLOCK,  

Izzsay whizzat? willze illzain't millzovin'  

presses it to his temple, eyes twitching.)  

Shillzu-gillza! milzza nilzza bilzzaby!"  

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(CUT TO: RAY at his warehouse job. A STUNNING RECEPTIONIST leans over the punch clock, singing seductively.)  

RECEPTIONIST  

"Whozzo?  

My gizzirl!  

Brillzing her izzin!  

Izzo kizzay!  

Izzall rizzight!"  

(RAY groans, punching in like a man sentenced to prison.)  

(MONTAGE: RAY operating a forklift, dead-eyed, while coworkers laugh. A "HELP ME" sticky note is stuck to his hard hat.)  

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(END OF DAY. RAY stands at the bus stop, smoking a cigarette in his safety vest. The sun sets. He softly sings, half-smiling.)  

RAY (exhausted but amused)  

"Bip, bomp, bam alakazam  

But only if you're grooving  

With the Double Dutch Man..."  

(The DOUBLE DUTCH BUS returns, now even WILDER—girls hanging out windows, music BLASTING. The DRIVER, an old Black woman with a gold tooth, grins.)  

DRIVER  

"You survived, sugar. Get in."  

(RAY shrugs, tosses his cigarette, and hops on. Inside, he’s now ROLLING DICE with the gangsters, laughing as the bus BOUNCES into the night.)  

FINAL SHOT: The bus disappears into the distance, ropes still swinging.  

FADE TO BLACK.  

AtilA