The Bentley Boys.


























The Bentley Boys






(Based on the real ‘Bentley Boys’ of Britain.)





























Copyright 2016





Two men dressed in finely woven suits lean on the hoods of their menacing, dust covered Bentleys while smoking from ornately designed pipes and looking off into the horizon. We can see a speeding car as it approaches.



Here comes Sammy. There goes





He’s not going stop. Crazy ol’chap he is.


As the car approaches Woolf and Benjiy watch it speed past as the lingering dust swirls around them. The passing driver beeps his horn repeatedly as he shouts.


PASSING DRIVER (fading voice)



The chugging, black smoke belching car drives down the road, we hear a faint musical tone as it disappears in a lagging cloud of opaque dust.




Doesn’t even stop for the loo.


Woolf straps on a pair of goggles and jumps into his car and revs the engine.




Sammy. He’s a bloody fool!


Benjiy takes a slow drag from his pipe as he watches Woolf fishtailing car speeds off the gravel and cuts off a passing car.


Benjiy leisurely turns his pipe over and taps on it.




They’re full of beans.


Benjiy runs his fingers through his hair before he thoughtfully straps on his goggles, starts his car, adjust his mirror, and gives a thumbs up in self approval while smiling at himself in the mirror.






Being the last doesn’t mean you’re forgotten.





The three drivers are now within feet of each other as they drive their obnoxious sounding, dusty, black cars down a bumpy road that gives them brief moments of airborne freedom that sends them into rough, bouncing jolts that causes wild over correction.


The cars race toward a farmhouse in the distance that’s flanked by a lush, wind swept pasture.





A sheep farmer in a plaid shirt and faded jeans is walking in his pasture, he pokes at wayward sheep with a long, twisted branch while periodically whistling in short, Morse code like tones. The sheep contentedly bleat, they trot in front of him while a black and white collie crouches and yips with boundless energy, dodging in and out of the fuzzy white crowd as he pursues and repositions wayward sheep.


The farmer and his energetic, four legged co-worker diligently heard the sheep into a corral. After the last sheep is inside, the dog rushes out and the man quickly locks the gate and pats his dog on its head as it finally takes a winded, but idle break.




Good Job Boz! Good Job!




We can hear the roaring, high revving engines of cars.




Bloody crazy. Look at em’


The farmer watches as a lagging car passes the two cars in front of it while beeping the horn.




He’s gonna crash into my fence!


The farmer’s dog begins running toward the speeding car.




Boz! No!




The farmer whistles in frantic, high pitched tones as he tries to control Boz as he dashes away toward the car. He stands and watches as his over dedicated four legged co-worker and car head toward one another.




God bless ya, Boz.


A despondent farmer hangs his head.





Benjiy can see the dog as it runs directly in front of him as his car crashes through the fence.






Benjiy slams on his brakes and his car goes into a long skid. His car does a half spin and he ends up facing his two rivals as they swerve to avoid the dog as it runs around, yipping, yelping, and finally whimpering.


The farmer slowly lifts his head and looks up and sees three cars. The green pasture is littered with bits of fence and large chunks of sod. He see three men with mud covered goggles turning their heads as they attempt to take inventory of their surroundings.




Blokes. I’ll kick’em in their goolies.


Farmer spits out his chew as he approaches the three dirt covered, and now muddy, super charged Bentleys.


The three cars perfectly aligned beside each other and facing the road.


The farmer walks slowly toward them as he sorrowfully looks around for his exuberant black and white dog.




They killed him.





Woolf lifts his goggles and grins as he looks at Benjiy.




Miss the dog?




Benjiy keeps his goggles on and gives a quick nod.


Woolf looks at the farmer as he approaches. He spiritedly jumps out of his car and greets the farmer.




Sorry’bout the lawn mate!


Woolf looks back at Sammy.




The lawn?


The farmer and Woolf are standing face to face. Cold stares between two men. Woolf glances down at the farmer’s hand as it trembles while gripping a long, twisted branch.




I didn’t hit your dog, so you don’t need to hit me, chap.


The farmer raises his branch and points at Sammy as he shakes his head back and forth. Sammy points at Benjiy.




Not me.


The farmer takes his branch and presses it into Benjiys jacket. Benjiy takes off his goggles and stares directly at the farmer.




There’s three of us.


Benjiy stands up. He grabs the farmer’s branch and keeps it in place as he points to something behind the farmer.




Take a look.


The farmer is reluctant, but he steps away from Benjiy and keeps a cautious eye on Sammy and Woolf. As he turns around, he sees Boz limping toward him.






The farmer waves his branch at all three men.




I should all ya’ in the goolies!




The farmer spits in their direction before walking over to his limping, wounded dog and picks him up.




Don’t worry Mack, we can pay for a new dog.


As farmer walks past the men, he says nothing. He stops a few yards away from them, he turns and looks at each one of them as they stand in their expensive, but dirty clothes then glances at their cars and the surrounding damage caused by their rowdy driving.


Sammy, Woolf and Benjiy watch as the farmer shakes his head and turns around then walks away.




He doesn’t know who we are.




He doesn’t care.




He doesn’t know anything.


Sammy opens his jacket and pulls out a silver flask. He twists the cap and takes a swig then passes it Benjiy. He takes two hard swallows then twists on the cap and tosses it to Woolf. Woolf opens the flask, he holds it up in the air and allows the liquid to free fall into his wide open mouth until the clear stream disappears then tosses the shiny silver flask back to Sammy.




We have quite the life.


Sammy tightens the cap on the flask and tucks it back into an unseen pocket inside his jacket. He looks in the direction of the farmer, then looks back at Woolf and smiles as he winks at Woolf.




Yes, Chaps. We do.


Sammy taps his jacket on the side where he placed the flask and nods his head up and down.




Not everyone can be a Bentley Boy.


Sammy, Woolf and Benjiy get in their cars, the engines roar to life, and they passively drive away from their calamitous introduction to someone’s solitary life.




We watch as the cars now drive slowly and cautiously onto the road in single file formation. Once on the road The Bentley Boys park their, muddy supercharged Bentleys beside each other and pull down their half cleaned goggles over their faces and rev their engines.


The engines begin thumping and evolve into synchronized revolutions which precede a high throttling, rubber burning race across the English countryside.






Fade Out.




The End.

The Bentley Boys.

A group of carefree, wealthy Brits that created and developed the luxury automobile line called "Bentley" once raced their vehicles across the English country side for two reasons: One because they could, and two: because they wanted to. This script is an introduction to their colorful personalities and the adventures they shared while pushing their souped up cars, and themselves to the limits.

  • Author: Von Kambro
  • Published: 2017-05-05 14:50:15
  • Words: 1310
The Bentley Boys. The Bentley Boys.