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turning to page one
A HUNDRED CONS at work. Hoes rise and fall in long waves. GUARDS patrol on horseback.
Heywood turns up a rocky chunk, quickly shoves it down his pants. He maneuvers to Red and the others, pulls out the chunk and shows it to them.
FLOYD
That ain't quartz. Nor limestone.
HEYWOOD
What are you, fuckin' geologist?
SNOOZE
He's right, it ain't.
HEYWOOD
What the hell is it then?
RED
Horse apple.
HEYWOOD
Bullshit.
RED
No, horse shit. Petrified.
Cackling, the men go back to work. Heywood stares at the rock. He crumbles it in his hands.
RED (V.O.) (CONT'D)
Despite a few hitches, the boys
came through in fine style...