Angel Goes to Walmart (and says goodbye to HumorOutcasts)

“Cissy Aiken has a lot to learn; her guardian angel has even more.”

These scenes from the spec script “Angel Pays a Visit” are based on the poem “Angel Goes to Walmart” by Carolyn Elkins.

 

INT. CISSY’S HO– USE – LIVING ROOM – DAY

Angel in jeans and T-shirt is slouched on the couch eating junk food from a bag, puffy Cheetos maybe, and is blankly watching TV, perhaps “Touched by an Angel” or some angel movie. Empty soft drink cans and an open bag of cookies are on the end table. The cat lies next to Angel, and he pets it frequently. Cissy enters and stares for a few seconds.

CISSY

Oh my God. It didn’t take you long to become human, did it?

ANGEL

Huh?

CISSY

Nevermind. I’m going to Walmart, and you’re coming with me. You obviously need a change of scenery.

 

EXT. WALMART – DAY

Just outside the entrance as Cissy and Angel approach, an old man in suit, tie, and jaunty-angled hat plays virtuoso Blues on an acoustic guitar. His appearance evokes an age-advanced version of the famous Robert Johnson photo. Angel stops, turns his body slightly, and looks over his shoulder as he scans the parking lot with some concern.

 

INT. WALMART – DAY

Cissy pushes a squeaky, wobbly cart in the produce section, and Angel ambles close by. Angel picks up a head of lettuce and holds it at the level of his own head.

ANGEL

Cissy Aiken, would you like to get a-head?

CISSY

(unappreciatively)

Ha. Ha.

Angel picks up another head of lettuce and holds both up, one on either side of his own head.

ANGEL

Two heads are better than one?

One or two other shoppers begin to stare.

CISSY

Would you please quit molesting the vegetables?

ANGEL

Sure.

He puts down the lettuce, tears one banana from a bunch, and holds it to his ear like a telephone.

ANGEL

Uh huh. . . . Uh huh. Yeah, she’s right here. It’s for you.

CISSY

(trying to stump him)

Yeah, who is it?

ANGEL

Says his name is Foster. . . . Bananas Foster. Says he’s literally on fire to talk to you.

Cissy closes her eyes and shakes her head.

CISSY

Please go to another part of the store. I’ll meet you at the checkout in twenty minutes.

ANGEL

As you wish, Princess.

Angel, in the cosmetics section now, quizzically looks at entire aisles of deodorant, mouthwash, many varieties of shampoo with their nearly endless designations: dry, normal, greasy, volumizing, color-treated. He notices Q-Tips and reads the warning that it’s not for your ears. He passes by Angel Soft bathroom tissue.

ANGEL

They think we’re soft?

Angel scans an aisle filled with feminine hygiene products. He stops in front of boxes of Carefree pantiliners and stares closely at the description “with wings.” As a woman nearby looks on in surprise, Angel opens the box, removes a pad, turns it over to study it, scrunches up his mouth in a perplexed moue, replaces the pad in the box, and replaces the box on the shelf.

Angel passes fish tanks. The fish form a tight school, come to the glass, and look at Angel. The third tank has angel fish.

ANGEL

Hang in there, buddies.

Angel pauses at a poster display, with a Harley Davidson wings poster visible. He turns around with his back to the poster and creates a visual joke when his body blocks the words and the wings seem to extend out from his own back.

He rejoins Cissy at the checkout and puts a small bottle of Joy dish detergent on the belt.

CISSY

What’s this?

ANGEL

You were out.

CISSY

Oh. OK.

Smiling and enjoying himself, Angel puts his hand on the conveyor belt and lets it ride and does this repeatedly as Cissy gives him looks.

A displayed tabloid with the following headlines is visible in the background: “Bigfoot May Be Giant Hobbit,”Time Travel Used to Make Big Bucks,” and “Close Encounters with Angels?”

Angel picks up a box of Tic Tacs and shakes it to test the sound it makes. He picks up a second Tic Tac box and shakes the two boxes like maracas to the tune of “La Cucaracha,” tentatively at first and then more enthusiastically as he begins doing salsa moves with his hips and arms. After he ends with the flourish of an arms-raised “Olé!” move, a couple of people in line applaud lightly and Angel takes a bow.

CISSY

Why don’t you wait outside?

ANGEL

Of course.

Angel puts the Tic Tacs on the belt for Cissy to buy, but she puts them back.

 

EXT. WALMART PARKING LOT – DAY

As Angel walks back to Cissy’s car, he passes by the following, who are headed into the store. Each is clearly recognizable but not comically portrayed: 1) HASIDIC JEW, 2) MUSLIM, 3) WICCAN WOMAN. Then an ancient CHINESE MONK who has come out of the store pushing an empty cart passes near Angel.

ANGEL

Father, your cart is empty.

CHINESE MONK

Yesss. You are most observant, Enlightened One.

They exchange bows, and the Chinese monk pushes on. Then Angel watches an old, unhappy-looking man who is collecting carts from the parking lot. This UNHAPPY OLD MAN seems to intentionally run carts into parked cars causing dents and scratches. Cissy arrives at the back of her car pushing a full cart.

CISSY

What are you staring at?

Angel gives her a chin point. The old man is pushing a noiseless, smooth-rolling cart. He stops, gets a hammer from his pocket, and bangs the hell out of one of the wheels. When he continues pushing the cart, it is squeaky and wobbly.

ANGEL

It’s the Devil, the Anti-Christ.

CISSY

Very funny. . . . You’re kidding, right?

Angel shakes his head no and continues to watch this proto-misanthrope.

CISSY

Jesus! What should we do?

ANGEL

Well, we could take him home, get to know him, maybe turn him around.

CISSY

Nah ah. That’s not going to happen. . . . Anyway, I don’t even believe in the Devil.

ANGEL

Good. That’ll work, too.

 

[Note: This is the last post of excerpts from “Angel Pays a Visit.” Thank you for reading.]