JIMMY: Okay, Horace. Have it your way. If you want to play Indians or whatever, go ahead; if you want to you can keep up this charade of not knowing anything and being rude, fine; but I—

(HORACE runs around in front of JIMMY. HORACE points the gun in Jimmy’s face.)

HORACE: I don’t think so, Preacher-boy. (Pause.) Come into the woods with me.

JIMMY (whispers through his teeth): Are you crazy?

HORACE: (smiling): I’m beyond crazy, Love. You might say insane is not a strong enough word for what I am.

(HORACE motions toward the woods with the gun. JIMMY pushes the gun aside in fury and starts to walk away. HORACE rams the gun into Jimmys belly. JIMMY keels over and falls to his knees in the grass.)

JIMMY (catching his breath): I am going to kill you.

HORACE: Promises, promises. Get up.

JIMMY: Horace, why are you doing this? The joke is over. Okay.

HORACE (testy); Get up, Preacher-boy. Get up.

(HORACE pulls JIMMY up by the lapels of his jacket.)

Listen, Love. First, my name ain’t Horace. Okay? He ain’t coming back. Second, I’m used to getting my way. So when I say, Walk, I do mean . . . Walk.

(JIMMY and HORACE stare at one another at length. Slowly JIMMY becomes visibly nervous, realizing that HORACE is serious. HORACE steps back and motions to the woods again. JIMMY goes after some hesitation.)

JIMMY: If you’re not Horace, then who are you?

HORACE (laughing): Well, my name ain’t Legion, cause I ain’t many. But I suspect you get the picture, Preacher-boy.

(JIMMY suddenly swings around to face HORACE. His look is once again full of anger and disbelief.)

JIMMY: Oh, come on, Horace. If you expect me to fall for this possessed bullshit, you’ve got another think coming. I don’t know what you’ve got up your sleeve, young man, but blaming it on the devil is not going to get you out of the hot water you’re already in.

(HORACE raises the gun. A calm, unperturbed look is on his face. He cocks the gun, the end of the barrel no more than two inches from Jimmys head.)

HORACE: Now, you can go on preaching, Preacher-boy. Or you can do like I say. Cause if you get on my nerves, I’ll just blow your fucking brains out. Just that simple. You read me, Parson?

(Jimmys eyes grow wide in horror. He swallows.)

JIMMY: I’m supposed to believe my cousin has been possessed? By a demon?

HORACE: Yeah. Something like that.