Screenplay &  Novel Available





"What happens at that precise moment where real life ceases to exist and something else begins? That thing we don’t like to talk about — that thing we know is out there waiting for us? Will we ever get to live out some aspect of our dreams, our fondest memories, beyond this life? Will we?” -  A.R.T.

By Alan Ralph Tautges 


Copyright 2003.

Based on a currently unpublished literary novel of the same title, THE BORDER LINE is a 129 page screenplay for a full length motion picture. Excerpts via regular mail are available for review via email request at The novel and screenplay are also available for representation by established, no-fee literary and script agents who have a high rate of success in placing similar projects in the USA or foreign markets. The novel manuscript is 700 pages in length. Both the novel and the screenplay are currently in professionally acceptable formats for review.  The Border Line is the first novel in a trilogy.  Looking for Bobbie, the sequel novel set in 2034 is complete.  I will develop the screenplay version during the fall of 2003.   Currently I am writing the first draft of the third novel in the trilogy, set in 2061.  A screenplay for this novel will be written sometime in 2004.


THE BORDER LINE represents a vision of life after death set in the landscape of the desert southwest. Partially inspired by a real aunt and uncle who died as a result of accident and murder respectively, the story achieves cinematic potential for an ensemble of gifted actors who will play out the gambling and smuggling operations associated with an illegal boxing match near Las Vegas twenty years in the future in the year 2021. The story is serious, dramatic and a satire on contemporary America. In the future, boxing and smoking are illegal, but never die.

The protagonists are a white midwestern couple, both factory workers. The husband, whose dream was to own a bar in the desert, is murdered at age 48, and his loving wife of three months, age 27, dies in a motorcycle accident sixteen years earlier. Distinctive supporting characters lend humor and interest to the story, including a lonely white alcoholic war veteran , a black female postal carrier (a former Olympic athlete) with a chip on her shoulder, a redneck Texas gambler and a time-traveling southern whore who roams the West in a bus. Two state troopers (white/Hispanic and m/f) carry on a blazing voyeuristic affair behind a giant casino billboard which obscures the tavern from view from the interstate highway.

THE BORDER LINE is satire, it is metaphor, it is political, it is America, it is many things. Mostly, it is a good story which lends itself to the making of a PG-13 or R-rated film of high cinematic quality. A film that will have people guessing, talking, thinking, laughing and crying for years. "What do you think happens to us at that moment? Could it be an entrance to another kind of existence, or more of the same?"


Alan Ralph Tautges was born and raised in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, the oldest child of six in a working class family. He is an emerging writer of literary fiction who has penned five novels, one screenplay, a collection of short stories and a memoir in the past four and a half years. Formerly a university assistant professor, he is a former landscape architect with a keen view of landscape, geography, history, modern society and cinematic art. He is a landscape architecture graduate of the University of Wisconsin-Madison and the University of Oregon, and completed significant doctoral level study in geography at Oregon State University before turning to fiction writing.

The innovative and award-winning screenplay for THE BORDER LINE is for sale and development into a full length motion picture with broad commercial appeal.  The screenplay consists mostly of dialogue with some literary prose and a minimum of cinematic direction for the eventual director. The intent is to allow maximum artistic interpretation for the director within the conceptual context of the story. Various literary agents have described excerpts of his work as "intriguing" and "tremendously talented". He currently resides in Oregon.

THE BORDER LINE is also available for consideration as a stage play by new and emerging stage directors as well as experienced film directors and producers.


WEB PAGE ORIGINALLY POSTED – May 27,2003. (an excerpt follows)



SCREENPLAY EXCERPT (from Act II — Scene 2)


                              NEVADA BOB

                  Maybe it's time to quit cold turkey.



                  What would you know about quitting an

                  addiction? I'd like to see you quit The

                  Blue Chipper cold turkey. Bet you can't.


                              NEVADA BOB

                  That's personal, and I don't want to.



                  So is smoking, and maybe we don't want to.


                              THE BLUE CHIPPER

                  So we're even. I'd rather be addicted to

                  sex than smoking.



                  Each can kill you if you take it too far.


                              NEVADA BOB

                  Smoking's like fucking yourself.



                  Which some people apparently prefer...

                  Wonder where Irene is? Haven't seen

                  her in, God!, three months.                          


                              NEVADA BOB

                  Who's Irene? Another homeless transient

                  picking up cans along the highway for the

                  twenty-five cent deposit money?



                  Irene the Sireen is a blonde bombshell.

                  Sexier than Norma Jean Baker. She appears

                  about thirty-two, and drives a huge Beaver

                  Coach motor home she got off a Hollywood

                  director. Cruises all over the West...

                  Surprised you haven't ticketed her, but

then you got your head someplace else




                  We knnnow where.


HAROLD winks at THE BLUE CHIPPER. She blushes.


DENNY goes behind the counter and takes out a box of old Hot Rod and Lowrider magazines with scantily clad, buxom women on the covers caressing glossy painted fenders. He pulls out five issues from 2007 to 2018.



That's Irene. All five of 'em. April 2007,

she just turned eighteen. She was

absolutely perfect. May 2018, she's

twenty-nine, still hot, a little larger on

top. When she turned thirty they dumped

her. In the centerfold business

you’re a battle axe at thirty.


                              THE BLUE CHIPPER

                  Let me see that... Mmmm, She's a Barbie

Doll, not even Hispanic!


                              NEVADA BOB

                  Is that a requirement for lowriding?


                              THE BLUE CHIPPER

                  If you're in a '61 Impala SS with a big

                  block 409 in Barstow with me it is.


      "409", The Beach Boys, plays in the background.



                  Bob's a white dude.



                  Really? But he's a cop. A man in uniform.



                  Otherwise he's just another plain white

                  dude driving an ugly Ford cruiser.



                  Irene's straddling the black Harley on the

                  poster in the Men's room. Red spiked

boots, nothin' else.


                              NEVADA BOB

                  I was wondering who that chick was. A

                  computer-generated fantasy girl. You

rarely ever meet those types in the real




                  She gave us a tour of The Beaver Fever.

                  It's got a hot tub and a shower, chrome

                  handles... Gadgets everywhere and three




                  Air conditioned mobile whorehouse.



                  Gotta couple minor dents. I'll fix

                  'em soon as she can leave it for a week.


TEX drives up in his five ton, six door black Dodge truck with camper, and walks into the diner in his western wear clothing and boots, just as ELAINE finishes her remarks. He takes his place at the counter. The cops are getting anxious to leave, but they want to hear about IRENE THE SIREEN.



                  We all got a few minor dents. May I have

                  some coffee please? The usual... This

                  ain't my usual stool. What if I

                  gotta scratch my ass?



                  Go outside for that. I'm not in the mood

                  for any overt scratchin' this morning.


The sound of air brakes screeching from THE BEAVER FEVER interupts the relative morning silence. DENNY returns from the restroom with the New York Times.



                  Oh,oh! Speak of the devil herself...


IRENE THE SIREEN, the beautiful, high-priced whore from L.A. with an Alabama accent makes her first entrance. She is casually-dressed in tight, white jeans, light pink oxford canvas shoes, and a light blue chambray denim shirt.


                              NEVADA BOB

                  I gotta go to the stud room to do

                  some research. I'll be right back Miss

                  Sireen. Give me that stack of Hot Rod Den!


                              IRENE THE SIREEN

                  I did that MGM dude so many times,

                  he owed me a motorhome. Promised me a

                  small part in a movie but he "forgot". Now

I gotta work like crazy to pay for all

that propane and diesel fuel... I'll have

to park it outside a Needless-Markup for a




                  Nnnnail, I mean cccigarette Miss Sireen?



                  No thank you. I quit thirty years ago.

                  Looks like you puffed on that little

pecker already. Giving up smoking helps

pay for fuel.



                  He did, the little pervert. I got one old

                  nail in reserve that hasn't been sucked



                              THE BLUE CHIPPER

                  Don't talk about little peckers around

Bob. He's too horny already. We gotta go

and catch some smugglers if you want any

more galvinized nails.



                  Only so much gum a mouth can chew before

                  your teeth fall out.



No one takes longer to pee than Nevada




                  He's straddlin' a Harley right now.



                  I thought you burned all those old

posters. I got perfect breasts in that




                  That ain't all.



                  You're towing a little red roadster now.



                  That's my Italian mistress. 1993 Alpha

                  Spyder. Works when she feels like it, but

                  is she a hoot when she hums. Last year

they sold them here. Pesky little critter.



                  Let me guess, some stud was outta cash so

                  he gave you his car.



                  I was on my way back to The Beav in Santa

Fe last month. I was gonna tell this fed

man's wife when he saw the light of my

wisdom and gave me the thang. The

government leech didn't want to pay. He

was two weeks behind. Makin' six figures

at the nuke lab. I clipped his Kawasaki

with The Beaver Fever.Ever hear what a

Kawasaki sounds like underneath a bus?



                  I hit a little Yamaha once with a Humvee

on a SWAT team run. That was fun.



                  Like eating Grape Nuts. I'll let you girls

                  drive my mistress if you want.



                  Not in uniform. I'll have to see you in

                  Vegas sometime.



                  The Blue Chipper out of uniform cruisin'

                  with Irene the Sireen. If that ain't a




                  I'm into trucks and Cadillacs. You can

keep that spaghetti-burner. I wouldn't

want some crazed New Mexican wife coming

after me thinking I was her husbands




                  Been thinking of strappin' on a little

Honda moped to the back of The Beav. Then

I wouldn't have to worry about this

trailer. I need an airport runway to turn

around in...  Impossible to go to the

drive-thru at Burgerville with a trailer.



                  Can't make a drive-thru with a bus. The

                  trailer is irrelevant.


                              NEVADA BOB

                  Gotta license for that trailer?



                  Ignore him! Nevada wants to arrest

                  everyone except himself for whackin'.



                  The boy must have too much stirrin'.



                  The Oaaaasis don't have a quick drive-thru                              

wwwindow... I know what a quicky is and

they are not qqquick.



                  You haven't had a quickie in twenty years!


                  Women are talkin' 'bout chokin'

                  chicken and you're still worried about

                  the drive-thru! What you need is a drive-

                  thru whorehouse.



                  On the Nevada side of the property.





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