Season One

## King of the Road

A lone man with a duster coat and a large backpack hauls his way through a desertic expanse. It is apparent he has been on this path for at least a few hours. His canteen is half-filled. His face is protected with a scarf. As he walks on by, figures appear on the horizon, a town. The music playing in his Walkman changes. *King of the Road*, by Roger Miller. He observes it from the distance he has as he continues trekking towards it.

Debris is littered in places. He makes a stop to look at the town's welcome sign. It says "Welcome to Hopetown", but the words "FALSE HOPE" have been superimposed over it with spray paint. The man folds his arms and sighs, before continuing to walk into town. A sudden gust of wind carries an old faded paper dated from 1997, with a headline reading "LEAKED: DEFCON 2 REACHED".

From the sign onwards there are several buildings outskirting the town centre that are in varying states of disrepair, having clearly succumbed to the ravages of time, or have been stripped for parts. Further into the town, the buildings are better maintained, and there are even signs of movement. A small brick shack on the right with mechanical motor noises emanating from it seems to be the town's source of power, with a pylon on its roof connecting wires to many of the more well-kept building. Joined to the shack is a garage and workshop area, currently empty. Next to that is a slightly larger building with a red cross painted on the front door. On the opposite side of the street, there is a saloon-like building with signage that reads "Bar and Inn." There is a more traditional looking diner as well as a shop displaying various odds and ends in the window. There are several residential buildings, some large enough to contain multiple families. At the very end of the road is a gated area, and within that, a larger and grander building with a clocktower and a balcony and pavilion, with the words "TOWN HALL" written on it. On the same road, outside the gated area is a sizeable sheriff's office. Further towards the outskirts of the town amidst less populated building is a chapel, its steeple partially collapsed.

Directly in front of the lone man however is a smaller, newer building, with the letters "SDTC" marked on its way. There is a younger man inside the stall. He's tall and well built, with brown hair and blue eyes, and he is wearing a blue flannel shirt, some dark trousers with suspenders and some black boots. The boy doesn't appear to be paying much attention to anything. The traveller just passes by, kicking a stone, which pings off of a tin can, catching the boy's attention. He looks up and to the left to see the man walking past him. The boy jumps out of his chair and tries to get the traveller's attention.

Boy: Oh um. Hey! Hello there!

He has a closer look at him.

Boy: You're travelling a little light, aren't you?

The man shuts off his Walkman and takes off his headphones.

Man: Can I help you?

The young man seems temporarily stunned by the traveller's gadget, but snaps out of it.

Boy: Are you not from the San Diego company?

Man: San Diego? Nah. I come from west.

The boy looks confused.we

Boy: You mean to say that you're not paid to be here?

The man has a slight chuckle.

Man: What's that supposed to mean?

Young man: Well, I mean... The only people who come through this way are the folks from San Diego. It's been months since someone who was just passing by showed up.

Man: I see... Say, kid. Is there a check-in place here or something?

Boy: Um, yeah sure.

The young man points at the town hall.

Boy: Although be careful because the Mayor can be--

"Well, well, well. What do we have here."

An older man with a moustache looms over the young man like a shadow. He wears a badge and carries a gun. It is the town's sheriff.

Sheriff: Talking with strangers, Miller? And a *beaner* no less.

Man: What was that?

Sheriff: You heard me, beaner.

The sheriff cocks his gun. The man reaches for his own.

Sheriff: Mayor Walker's gonna wanna see you. You came here uninvited.

The man eases himself.

Man: Just where I need to go. After you, nutsack.

The sheriff ignores him and looks down at the boy.

Sheriff: Scram.

The boy averts his eyes, before looking up to the traveller.

Young man: Well, it was nice meeting you. I guess I'll see you around.

Sheriff: Get moving, Mexican.

Man: Whatever. Lead the way.

The sheriff leads the man to the gates where town hall is, and they stop outside the gate. There are two tall and bulky bald men, one white and one black, standing in front of the town hall's door, both dressed in black, wearing sunglasses, and carrying rifles. The white man comes forward to the gate to see the Sheriff.

The Sheriff tips his hat to them.

Sheriff: Sal, Mal.

Sal: What business does this man have here?

Sheriff: A check-in. You know the drill with outsiders.

Sal looks down at the traveller and sizes them up.

Sal: I'm going to need you to hand over your weapons.

The man hands over his magnum and its holster.

Man: I want it back.

Sal: You'll get it back once we're done.

Sal takes the gun.

Sal: This way, please.

He guides them through the front door, which Mal opens for them. They enter into the main hall.

The town hall is clearly more well-kept than the other buildings. The floor is black and white checkered marble, and it has recently been cleaned, although there remains missing tiles and cracks. There is an elderly man in a dirty blue jumpsuit polishing the wooden panelling on the walls. From the ceiling hangs a chain and some wires, with nothing on the end of it. There are many stacked up chairs on the right side of the room by the wall, although they are covered in webs and clearly haven't been used for some time. There is a grand staircase, with two stairs of curved stairs leading up to a balcony on the second floor, with a set of doors behind it.

Wilson directs the man up the stairs, and to the door.

Sheriff: No funny business. Capiche?

He knocks three times.

A deep female voice beckons them to enter. The Sheriff opens the door, revealing a woman at a large wooden desk. The office is just as extravagant as the hall, having obviously been cleaned well, and there is a curved window at the back of the room looking out at some of the dilapidated buildings, plots of land and vast expanse.

The woman at the desk is also dressed extravagantly. She has bright blue eyes, and blonde hair that has been styled into curls. She is heavily made up, with faint blue eye-shadow, thick black eye-liner and red lipstick that has been applied unevenly. She's wearing a red floral shirt-dress, with black tights and some pumps, and there is a white fur coat resting on the back of her chair. She sizes the traveller up. The sheriff removes his hat respectfully.

Sheriff: Ma'am. This one wants a check-up.

Woman: Please, take a seat.

She gestures to a flimsy wooden chair in front of her desk. He sits down.

Woman: Now, first things first...

She quickly glances over to the sheriff who is still standing in the room by the door.

Woman: Sheriff, you're still here?

Sheriff: Oh, pardon me.

He stops by the door. He turns and points at the man.

Sheriff: Remember what I said, *beaner*.

He closes the door behind him as he leaves.

Woman: As I was saying...

She smiles. The make-up she's wearing seems to crack as she does so.

Woman: Welcome to Hopetown! My name is is Victoria Walker, and I am honoured to be the Mayor of this fine town. What is your name?

Man: Uhh... I'm Angelo. I'm from west.

Victoria: What is your surname?

Angelo: Rodríguez.

Victoria: And what are your purposes for being here, Mr. Rodríguez?

Angelo: The Sheriff told you, didn't he? I'm here to check in. I'm looking for work.

She stops smiling, dismayed by Angelo's abrupt tone.

Victoria: Well there is plenty of work to go around, what type of work are you looking for?

Angelo: I'm a mechanic. I saw the workshop back there.

Victoria: That is fortunate. A vacancy in that building opened up very recently.

Angelo: What's that supposed to mean?

Victoria: Well, we're a town of laws Mr. Rodríguez. Someone broke those laws, and paid the price for it.

There is a brief silence. She takes out an identification paper with various blanks to fill in, and pushes it towards Angelo. She rolls a pen towards him.

Victoria: Fill this in.

Angelo fills in the blanks, and she takes the paper off him.

Victoria: The vacancy is in the garage. I'm sure the sheriff will be more than happy to show you around.

She suddenly raises her voice very loudly.

Victoria: *Wilson!*

The sheriff enters again.

Wilson: Yes, ma'am?

Victoria: Help Mr. Rodríguez get settled in.

Wilson: Yes, ma'am.

He shoves Angelo.

Wilson: Come on. Get.

Wilson leads him out.

Wilson: I've got my eye on you, sunshine.

Angelo: I bet you'll have.

Wilson: What was that?

Angelo: Don't let it concern you, Sheriff. Don't you worry, I'm not here for trouble.

They leave the building.

Sal is waiting at the gate, and he returns Angelo's gun to him. Angelo checks to see if it has been handled improperly. He puts it back in its holster. The sheriff leads him back through town. As Angelo passes, he gets a better look at his surroundings. They soon reach the other end of town.

Sheriff: *Miller!*

The young man from earlier jumps out of his seat at the checkpoint and immediately runs towards the sheriff.

Young man: Yes, sheriff?

Wilson: Give Mr. Rodríguez here a tour around town. If you need me, I'll be in my office.

He does an I'm-watching-you gesture to Angelo before leaving.

Angelo: Well isn't *he* charming.

Young man: Yeah, he can be a hard-ass. Best to just keep on his good side. My name's Alex by the way.

Angelo: I'm Angelo.

Alex: Well, the first stop is here, where I work. This is the San Diego Trade Corporation's local checkpoint. We get most of our supplies from them, and we process requests and transactions here. Used to be my Dad's place, but I guess it is mine now.

Angelo: Why? What happened to him?

Alex looks a bit more downcast.

Alex: He went missing about two weeks ago. The town authorities blamed his disappearance on the guy who worked at the garage.

Angelo: Sorry to hear. I heard there was a guy at the garage, too. What happened to him?

Alex: Well they gathered us all outside the town hall, told us that he had murdered my Dad and then the sheriff shot him in front of everyone.

Alex begins to guide Angelo towards the garage.

Alex: Always thought it was weird. He was pretty close to my Dad, so when he was accused of murdering him it didn't make much sense to me.

Angelo: Right...

Angelo glances to the other end of town, towards Town Hall, visibly annoyed with such news.

Alex takes Angelo into the generator room next to the garage. Inside is a large metal tank, connected to a series of large bulky components with a turbine and fan at one end and a control panel at the other. The generator is rusted, its once red paintwork having faded away over the years, and the indicators on the control panel no longer work. They don't spend too long in the room due to the noise and they shut the door behind him.

Alex: Like most things, we get a lot of our fuel from the Trade Corporation, although sometimes they forget about us and we have to go without power for a while.

Alex takes Angelo in front of the larger building with the red cross on the door.

Alex: This is Dr. Morgan's surgery, although probably best not to bother him at this time. Worth seeing him though to make sure you haven't been walking through any hotspots.

Angelo: I'll be sure to check in tomorrow, after I'm settled in.

Alex then guides Angelo over to the opposite side of the street where the "Bar and Inn" is.

Alex: Here's what is probably the town's best feature. Angelo raises a brow.

They turn around, to a rectangular building with rounded corners, and glass windows, some of which have been broken and covered up, going all the way around the building. It's panelling is a dull red, although the paint has peeled off in many areas, exposing a rusted brown. Above the door are several defunct neon lights that spell out "DINER," although the E has tilted clockwise and no one has attempted to correct it.

Alex: This is Louis' Diner. It pretty much keeps the whole town fed and a bonus is that Louis can actually make the food taste nice.

He then walks past it towards the neighbouring houses, some of which are bungalows and some of which are at least two stories. Many of buildings have holes that have been hastily covered up with scrap pieces of wood, as well as broken windows that have been boarded up.

Alex: These are the houses in which most people here actually live.

Alex points to one of the smaller bungalows closer to the town hall.

Alex: That's where Dad and I live. Or lived.

He then points to one of the two storey buildings.

Alex: That is where a lot of the people who work on Abernathy's fields live.

Angelo: And who's Abernathy?

Alex: Abernathy runs the farm. He and his wife mostly keep to themselves.

Angelo: I see.

They head further up the road up to a smallish shack with supplies and other wares. The words "MERCANTILE & SUPPLIES" are painted onto the sign above.

Alex: This is John's shop. You'll find all kinds in here. John's friendly enough, but just don't get him started on the Trade Corporation. He isn't in town right now because he likes to head out to find supplies.

They then head towards the town hall.

Alex: And then this is the town hall, where the Mayor is, but of course, you know that already. So how long are you planning on staying here?

Alex turns around to see that Angelo is gone.

Alex: Angelo?

Alex looks all around down all three roads and there is no sight of him.

Alex: Shit...

He sees the Sheriff and his Deputy, and jogs up to them. Wilson is sitting on a rocking chair with a toothpick in his mouth, his hat tipped down, and an empty beer bottle at his feet.

Deputy: Hey there Alex.

Alex: Hi Deputy Moran. Have you guys seen Angelo anywhere?

Wilson tilts back in his chair and raises his hat.

Wilson: You mean you *lost* that sonovabitch?!

He stands up.

Alex: *I* didn't lose him! He just took, off I swear!

The sheriff imposes his shadow over Alex.

Wilson: Well you'd better go run along after that beatnik, or *so help me*, this little twitchy finger's gonna be saying goodnight to *two* little shits tonight. *Do I make myself clear*?!

Alex: Y... S...

Wilson: *I said*: DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?

Wilson spits all over Alex.

Alex: Y-Yes Sir!

Wilson: Then *get*!

Alex immediately runs down the street towards the church, with the intention of searching the town from top to bottom.

Deputy Moran: He's probably just at the bar...

Wilson: Whatever.

He slumps back into his chair.

Wilson: Get back to work, Deputy Moron.

Meanwhile Alex has already checked the perimeter of the church and is making his way back down the main street. He looks in between all the buildings, and scans inside the ones that are open. Several minutes later, he notices that there is commotion going on at the bar. He investigates, to his surprise, Angelo is sat at the bar with folks gathered around him.

Angelo: And then he said "what in Pete's name did y'all just call me"?

Barman: What did the other guy say?

Angelo: He said "I called y'all a bird-scrubbing candy ass, that's for sure".

Tendor: And then what happened?

Angelo: They both got into a fight and ended up knocking heads with each other and through a window. It was a real *pane* to watch.

The bar goes into an uproar with laughter. Clearly they've had several drinks. The barmaid has a level of interest with Angelo. Alex looks annoyed as he enters the bar.

Angelo: Hey~! Andy!

Alex: Alex. I've been looking all over for you? Why'd you take off like that while I was showing you around?

Angelo: I got bored. Come take a seat.

Angelo moves the empty stool to his right forwards with his foot.

Angelo: Hey, Griff, two on me this time!

The barman chuckles.

Griff: Take it easy son, you've already managed to piss off the sheriff once.

Angelo: Not my fault he's a cranky old asshole.

Griff: True.

He gets a bottle of ale from a shelf.

Griff: What can I get you, Alex?

Alex sighs.

Alex: I'll have a beer.

Griff gets a beer bottle and hands the drinks to the men.

Angelo: So tell me about yourself, Alex.

Alex: Well... Uh... I... I almost... Died when I was 15...

He visibly cringes.

Angelo: Oh shit, really? What happened?

Alex: I was messing around towards the edge of town and some bandits passing by thought it would be fun to shoot at me, and one of them hit me in the chest. Fortunately Dad was returning from one of his trades, and he was able to shoot back and scare them off. I was lucky that it was on that day that Dr. Morgan first arrived in town, otherwise I would have died for sure.

Alex unbuttons his shirt at his upper abdomen and shows his bullet scar.

Alex: It missed my heart by about an inch.

Angelo looks at it.

Angelo: I've got one too.

Angelo shows off a gash on his right hip.

Angelo: Ever heard of "Los Muertos"?

Griff overhears this, but says nothing.

Alex: No. What is that?

Angelo: Assholes. Basically, my pops ran into trouble with them, and they thought this would be a funny way to get back at him. Of course, he then got his own back... And then their boss decided to issue an order to get rid of him.

He takes a swig out of his drink.

Angelo: So who was this guy I'm replacing?

Alex: Clark. He mostly did repairs around the town and tried his best to keep the generator running.

Angelo: Wouldn't wanna end up like him.

Angelo playfully nudges Alex, while Alex just seems uncomfortable.

Alex: Do you have any other family?

Angelo: Yeah, I have a sister back west.

Alex: Why didn't she come with you?

Angelo: I didn't want her crossing the Great Basin. It's too dangerous.

Griff: Didn't you cross it yourself? I mean, here you are now.

Angelo: I thought if I travelled alone, I'd be able to defend myself. I know my way around a pistol. But if I travelled with her, I'd have the burden of having to look out for her as well.

Alex: What is the Great Basin like?

Angelo: ... Unpleasant. It's rife with raiders, scorpions, and the occasional bear. Plus it's hot.

Alex: Did you have to kill any on the way here? Raiders, I mean.

Angelo: Only two. There was a third I met but he was alright.

Alex: Who were they and where were they headed?

Angelo: Nowhere really. For the amount of time I knew him he liked to nap. And he said he likes raiding other raiders.

Griff: That's new. A raider raiding raiders?

Griff chuckles.

Angelo: Y'know, I told him the same thing.

They both just begin to laugh.

Angelo: Anyways. I should get back to that workshop. Got a long day tomorrow. C'mon, Alex. Down the hatch.

Angelo holds his cup to Alex. Alex clinks it with his and drinks.

Griff: I'll catch you boys later. It was great go meet you, Angelo.

Angelo: And you, too.

Angelo wraps him arm around Alex's shoulder forcibly. He is obviously slightly drunk, as he stumbles out of the bar. Outside, the sun is setting on the horizon. The two reach the end of the road leading out of town. Angelo looks towards the back of the defaced sign.

Angelo: Well, looks like you're stuck with me for now, Alex.

Alex: I guess I'll see you around then Angelo.

Angelo: Later.

Angelo walks towards the garage. He begins singing *King of the Road* to himself quietly. He unlocks the door and lets himself in. He looks around quietly and smiles, content with what he has managed to acquire. He begins unpacking his belongings. He starts mixing his own tools with those already on the workbench. He then makes a few other niche adjustments before tending to his sleeping quarters. There is an old movie poster plastered to the wall, but he doesn't mind. He sets down a lamp and and alarm clock before getting comfortable. He falls asleep.

## The Town With False Hope

Morning dawns over Hopetown. *Ventura Highway* by America begins playing on a radio. The morning sun glistens over the tin roofs and glass windows in the town. The crawlies of the night slink away by the town's defaced sign. The graffiti has eroded slightly over time due to the heat, dust and exposure. Some folk are already starting their day to day jobs, some commuting to the town nearby.

On the farm itself, the farmer leaves his living quarters with a great yawn. The town's church bell rings. A few patrons commute to the diner for breakfast, as a smaller number commute to the bar instead. Angelo is still asleep, snoring loudly as the radio continues playing next to him. His alarm goes off, causing him to and wake up. He shuts off the alarm. He gets out of his bed and yawns.

Angelo: Time to make some rounds, I guess.

He gets dressed into his overalls, before cleaning his teeth. He shuts the radio up and leaves the garage, slamming the door behind him and locking the door. He glances down the street to see the sheriff scowling from his outdoor chair as his deputy sweeps the walk. He rolls his eyes and makes his way to the doctor's office.

Alex sees him strolling by from his outpost and gives him a wave.

Alex: Mornin' Angelo.

Angelo waves back.

Angelo: Hey!

Angelo reaches the office and approaches the door.

Angelo: I guess this is the place.

He knocks on the door, unconsciously mimicking Sheriff Wilson's door knock from the day prior.

He hears the sound of something being dropped inside, followed by a quick walking towards the door.

The door opens, and a short and weedy man steps out. His eyes are bright green, and yet strangely soulless. He wears black-rimmed square spectacles with lenses that have become slightly scratched over time. He has brown medium-length hair that is slightly curly, and he is clean-shaven. He is dressed quite formally, with black trousers and shoes, and a grimy white-turned-grey buttom up shirt, buttoned to the top, with a white overcoat.

He seemed tense at first but his face soon relaxes into a thin smile.

Wesley: For a second I thought it was the Sheriff. You must be Mr. Rodriguez? Please, come in. My name is Wesley.

Wesley steps aside to let Angelo through. Angelo walks in and looks around. The interiors are mostly wooden, but still well-kept and clean. Wesley takes Angelo through the hall to a larger room on the right. Inside is a gurney, as well as a bed. There is a large glass cabinet full of bottles containing various substances. On the other side of the room is a desk with two chairs by it. Wesley goes to sit in the one directly in front of the desk and gestures to the other chair.

Wesley: Please sit.

Angelo sits down.

Wesley: First things first Mr. Rodriguez, any nausea? Vomiting? Disorientation? Hair loss?

Angelo: Not really.

Wesley opens up a cabinet next to his desk and pulls out a small yellow box with a digital display on it, and a small handheld sensor that is connected to it by cable. He moves the censor up and down Angelo's body. The machine makes frequent and seemingly random clicking noises that increase in intensity as the censor moves further down.

Wesley: Oof, 0.8 micro-sieverts.

He writes down the number on a piece of paper he has already prepared with some of Angelo's details on it.

Wesley: Any bad habits? Smoking? Drinking?

Angelo: Uh... Well, I drink pretty often. Is that a problem?

Wesley: Yes, but it is also normal around here so don't worry about it.

Wesley takes a sphygmomanometer out of his drawer and tells Angelo to roll his sleeve up. He applies the cuff, and it tightens.

Wesley sits back and watches the display as it begins to accurately measure Angelo's blood pressure.

Wesley: Have you enjoyed our little paradise so far?

Angelo: Well, I only came in yesterday. I met that asshole of a Sheriff, and the mayor.

Wesley chuckles.

Wesley: I wouldn't antagonise the Sheriff too much, he's not the most well-mannered of people.

Angelo: He's also prejudiced, apparently.

Wesley: You'd think the world ending would have ended that kind of bigotry.

He checks the heart rate monitor and writes down a number.

Wesley: Well, from what I have so far, you're as healthy as one can be in this environment, healthier than most of the townsfolk anyway.

He takes the strap of Angelo's arm, and then opens the door for him.

Wesley: It was nice meeting you. Try not to cause too much trouble.

Angelo: Great. I'll catch you later, doc.

Angelo leaves. He kneels down to tie his bootlace. From across town, the Sheriff watches him in disgust. He continues observing as Angelo waves Griff.

Sheriff Wilson: That bean eater's up to something. I know it.

Deputy Moran: Looks like he's just going for breakfast.

Sheriff Wilson: Of course he is, you idiot. I mean, I bet he's got some scheme up his sleeve. Look at 'em. We let 'em in and they waltz about thinking they own the place. Bastard Mexicans.

The Sheriff puts a cigar in his mouth.

Sheriff Wilson: Light.

Moran takes out a lighter and lights the Sheriff's cigar.

Sheriff Wilson: Watch the whiskers. I don't want you singeing them like last time.

He takes a puff on his cigar and rocks back in his chair. He then leans forwards and holds his cigar between his fingers.

Sheriff Wilson: The people in this town must be naïve, letting this fool in.

Deputy Moran: Including the mayor?

The Sheriff realises this.

Sheriff Wilson: Get back to work!

Angelo arrives at the diner. He looks into the window closest to him. A black man hangs his neck outside the entrance to greet him.

Man: You must be that new guy they've been talkin' about. Angelo, wasn't it?

Angelo: Yeah, that's me.

Man: I'm Louis. I'm the chef at this here diner.

Angelo: Pretty slick place you got here.

Angelo hears a faint zapping sound coming from above him. The diner's sign is on the fritz. The letter E is slant and its light is blinking.

Louis: They say you were a mechanic. You can fix that?

Angelo: With the right tools, sure. Let me get a ladder and I'll be up there.

Louis: I'll get something cookin' for ya.

Angelo: That sounds like a done deal.

Angelo retreats to his garage as Louis returns to his kitchen. Angelo soon returns with a ladder and a toolbox. He scales the ladder and gets to work.

Angelo: Now let's see what we've got here.

Angelo first unbolts the light from the structure it is attached to. He checks for anything unusual, before opening the back panel. He notices a wire has been damaged. He unplugs the light's mains supply before setting the light down. He slides down his ladder and equips himself with a blow torch and a visor, before scaling the ladder with them. Angelo begins soldering the wire in order to fix it. Soon, he is finished, and begins reconnecting the light. He reattaches the back panel and bolts it back into place. Lifting his visor, he realises a bolt is missing, so he picks one out from his pocket. At last, the sign is now fixed. Angelo slides down and takes a few steps back to look at his work, just as Louis and his waitress arrive with a pot of coffee and a breakfast plate consisting of a rash of bacon, a fried egg and some beans.

Angelo: All fixed.

Louis: I knew I could count on you, Angelo. Oh, this here is my waitress, Margaret.

Margaret: Hi!

Angelo: Hey.

Louis: Anyways, we cooked you up something nice for your troubles. Dig in!

Margaret sets down the plate and cutlery at an outdoor table, while Louis sets down the coffee and a cup.

Louis: Enjoy, now.

The two head back inside.

Alex walks by and heads to Angelo.

Alex: I see you fixed that light. Hey Louis.

Louis: What's good Alex, man?

Angelo: Hey, take a seat. The food's great.

Margaret: I think he's been here long enough to know that Mr. Rodríguez.

Angelo: Mr. Rodríguez? No need to be so formal. Just call me Angelo.

Louis: What can I get ya, Alex?

Alex: I'll have what he's having.

Louis: Comin' right up.

Louis and Margaret head back inside. Louis gets back to cooking in the kitchen. Angelo spies the sheriff watching.

Angelo: Hey, is Papa Groucho over there gonna just stare at us all day?

Alex looks over to glance at the sheriff.

Alex: Man he REALLY doesn't like you...

Angelo: I guess he just hates Mexican-born folk that much.

Margaret returns with a second plate of the same food.

Margaret: Enjoy~