<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3731469569266969005</id><updated>2012-02-13T12:18:35.856-08:00</updated><category term='Native American screenplay'/><category term='Nokosee'/><category term='YA'/><title type='text'>Nokosee &amp; Stormy</title><subtitle type='html'>Opening pages of the screenplay. Based on the novel of the same name.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nokoseeandstormy.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3731469569266969005/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nokoseeandstormy.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Verticus Erectus</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Fq7AKH63dSU/SawcZMbmLpI/AAAAAAAAAzk/0s_kxW2DMVY/S220/GumsandalsLens.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>1</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3731469569266969005.post-6609895874041187389</id><published>2009-08-17T16:09:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2012-02-13T12:18:35.864-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Native American screenplay'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nokosee'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='YA'/><title type='text'>Nokosee and Stormy: Love &amp; Bullets a book and Native American Screenplay</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Fq7AKH63dSU/Sonj2uPoN3I/AAAAAAAABQk/e0H3ICJ7ig0/s1600-h/NokoseeStormyArt.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px; display: block; height: 400px;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371074559882049394" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Fq7AKH63dSU/Sonj2uPoN3I/AAAAAAAABQk/e0H3ICJ7ig0/s400/NokoseeStormyArt.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Click Image to Enlarge.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are the first 8-pages of the sequel to &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nokosee: Rise of the New Seminoles&lt;/span&gt;. You can read the scene depicting the shooting down of a Predator drone over the Everglades &lt;a href="http://nokoseandstormy2.blogspot.com/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EXT. COLLEGE CAMPUS-- NIGHT&lt;br /&gt;A breeze drops leaves from trees in the lonely quadrangle. They blow toward the campus Rathskeller. LAUGHTER RISES.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;INT. RATHSKELLER-- NIGHT&lt;br /&gt;STORMY, wearing a plaid mini skirt and her Doc Martens, is sitting at a crowded bar with EDDIE, her boyfriend before she met Nokosee. She's nursing a draft. He's playing beer pong with some frat boys at a table behind Stormy. He yells, she turns to look.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FRAT BOY is yelling and prancing with both hands held high. Eddie is pointing across the table.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;EDDIE &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Drink it, loser!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LOSER picks up the plastic cup with the ping pong ball and hoists it to his mouth. He drinks it down in one gulp and slams the cup down on the table.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stormy is nonplussed and turns back to the bar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FRAT BOY grabs Eddie in a drunken headlock. They stumble into Stormy. She spills beer on herself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;STORMY&lt;/div&gt;Goddamit, Eddie!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EDDIE &lt;/div&gt;Hey, c'mon, Stormy, get with the program.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;STORMY &lt;/div&gt;Screw you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EDDIE &lt;/div&gt;You wish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stormy gives him the finger, grabs her full face crash helmet and walks away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eddie lunges after her and grabs her wrist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stormy spins around, drops her crash helmet, gets loose, latches onto his hand with both of hers and gracefully takes Eddie down to the floor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Frat Boy is impressed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;FRAT BOY &lt;/div&gt;Whoe, dude, she just whipped your ass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eddie tries to get up but Stormy applies some kinda kung fu pressure thing on his wrist and he cries out and falls back to the floor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EDDIE &lt;/div&gt;Let me go, bitch, or I'll--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;STORMY &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;(squeezing) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You'll what?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eddie cries out again and starts slapping the floor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;STORMY (CONT'D) &lt;/div&gt;I didn't think so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She throws his arm aside and he rolls over onto his back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She steps up and looks down at him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;STORMY (CONT'D) &lt;/div&gt;I don't know what I ever saw in you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She turns, looks for her helmet and starts to walk away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eddie makes a move to stop her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stormy whips around and&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Slams him hard aside the head with her crash helmet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eddie goes flying into&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bar and crumples in a heap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stormy looks at the others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are speechless, frozen in mid-brewski hoisting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stormy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;STORMY (CONT'D) &lt;/div&gt;You all make me sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She turns, pushes through the parting crowd, and walks toward the door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EXT. RATHSKELLER-- NIGHT&lt;br /&gt;Stormy is strapping on her crash helmet as she walks out of the building. She walks over to her H-D Sportster, throws a leg over it, starts it up and drives away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;FADE OUT.&lt;br /&gt;FADE TO:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;EXT. STORMY'S HOME-- NIGHT&lt;br /&gt;Stormy drives up the driveway and parks her bike in front of the old wooden garage in the back of the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;INT. STORMY'S KITCHEN-- NIGHT&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Stormy enters the house through the kitchen. She puts the crash helmet down on the kitchen table. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LISA (O.S.) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;That you, Stormy?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;STORMY &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Yes, mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;INT. STORMY'S HOME (LIVING ROOM)-- NIGHT&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Lisa is watching TV with her boyfriend. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LISA &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;You're home early. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stormy walks into the living room and up the stairs.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;STORMY &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Yeah.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LISA &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Can't you say hi to Larry?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;STORMY &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;No.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Larry shrugs and Lisa rolls her eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;INT. STORMY'S BEDROOM-- NIGHT&lt;br /&gt;Stormy opens the door to her bedroom and closes it behind her. She goes to her bureau and opens a drawer. She digs through some clothes and removes something. She turns and exits the bedroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;INT. STORMY'S BATHROOM-- NIGHT&lt;br /&gt;Stormy opens the door to the bathroom, enters and locks the door behind her. She drops her jeans and underwear and sits on the toilet. As she pees, she fiddles with something below frame. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;She brings up a pregnancy tester, looks at it-- stares at it. Tears well up in her eyes and roll down her cheeks. She wipes them away and gets up. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Stormy looks in the mirror and brushes her short blonde hair back. She has to catch her breath and bends toward the sink. She's breathing hard and trying not to cry when she looks back up at the mirror but it doesn't stop the stampede of tears. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;She picks up a pair of scissors off the glass shelf below the mirror, pauses for a moment, and then starts cutting her hair. Huge chunks start falling away. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;The hair falls around her Doc Martens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;INT. STORMY'S BEDROOM-- NIGHT&lt;br /&gt;Stormy rifles through another drawer and comes up with a wad of cash. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;She rams it into her Harley jacket, grabs a duffle bag of clothes and exits the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;INT. STORMY'S LIVING ROOM-- NIGHT&lt;br /&gt;Lisa turns to the SOUND of Stormy bounding down the steps.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;LISA &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Stormy!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stormy doesn't stop. For the first time we see she's wearing a ragged Mohawk. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Lisa pushes away from Larry and gets up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;LISA (CONT'D) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Stormy, where are you going?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;INT. STORMY'S HOME (KITCHEN)-- NIGHT&lt;br /&gt;Stormy grabs her crash helmet.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;STORMY &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I'm outta here, mom. I'll send you a post card.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Stormy opens the door and exits just as Lisa rushes in.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;LISA &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Stormy, you made a promise to your father and me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EXT. STORMY'S HOME-- NIGHT&lt;br /&gt;Stormy, duffle bag across her back, throws her leg over the Harley and starts it up as Lisa throws the door open and rushes outside. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;LISA &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;You're supposed to go to college! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Stormy squeals out in a circle and roars past her mother down the driveway. Lisa runs after her. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;LISA (CONT'D) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Stormy, don't go back there! You'll only get yourself into more trouble!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Stormy pauses before entering the street and looks back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Lisa is running down the driveway.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;LISA (CONT'D)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Stormy, don't do it!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Stormy, hidden behind the tinted black visor, turns and roars off. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Lisa runs out into the street.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;LISA (CONT'D) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Stormy!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Stormy turns a corner under a streetlight and disappears. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Lisa stops short. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;LISA (CONT'D) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Stormy!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;FADE OUT.&lt;br /&gt;FADE TO:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;EXT. AERIAL ON HIGHWAY- DAY&lt;br /&gt;Stormy is passing cars, hellbent for leather. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;CREDITS/MUSIC RISE.&lt;br /&gt;Please click to hear Mink DeVille's She's a Mixed-up, Shook-up Girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="200" width="300"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/3SVkzsm7nGs&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/3SVkzsm7nGs&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="200" width="300"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DISSOLVE TO:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EXT. AERIAL ON MOUNTAIN ROAD-- DAY&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Stormy is rolling into winding mountain roads.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;DISSOLVE TO:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;EXT. HIGHWAY- DAY&lt;br /&gt;Stormy, now head-on, is looking more and more like she's channeling Marlon Brando.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;She roars past a sign welcoming her to Florida. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;She unstraps her helmet and throws it away. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;The helmet rolls down the embankment.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Stormy faces the wind and as she struggles to keep her eyes open, a smile grows on her face. She twists the throttle and&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EXT. AERIAL HIGHWAY- DAY&lt;br /&gt;Roars down the road.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;DISSOLVE TO:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;EXT. STRIP MALL-- DAY&lt;br /&gt;Stormy turns into the parking lot of a Calle Ocho strip mall in Miami. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;She drives up and parks in front of a tattoo shop with signs in English and Spanish in its windows. She gets off her bike and enters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;INT. TATTOO SHOP-- DAY&lt;br /&gt;A heavily tattooed CUBAN MAN with a Holocaust haircut greets her like an old friend. Stormy opens her H-D purse and slaps down a crumpled drawing on the counter. The man picks it up and looks at it before turning to her with an, "are you sure?" look. She nods, grabs his arm and leads him around the counter to a back room.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Cuban Man draws a razor through the shaving cream across her temple, cutting away the last ragged stubble.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;He starts tattooing her temple.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;FADE OUT.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;FADE IN ON:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;EXT. SEMINOLE RESORT-- DAY&lt;br /&gt;Stormy rides into frame and stops. Curved spears sporting eagle feathers arc across the sides of her shaved skull. Her blond Mohawk is now standing upright. Red tips have been added. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;She gets off her bike. It's parked next to Osceola's Spear, JT's custom chopper. She looks around.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Tourists are staring at her. Someone takes her picture. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;She gives them her best Billy Idol sneer and turns away. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;The remote TV trucks are still littering the resort's parking lot. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;She turns away and &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Gets off her bike. She walks over to Osceola's Spear, kneels next to it, and pulls something out of her &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;motorcycle jacket. She opens it up.&amp;gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;It's a tool kit. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;She looks under the gas tank and runs her hands down the bike's backbone. She pulls out some wires attached to a chrome box, &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Looks around &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;And snips them with wire cutters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EXT. SEMINOLE RESORT-- DAY&lt;br /&gt;TV REPORTER is in the middle of a live report. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;TV REPORTER &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;The summer fires are finally coming under control thanks to--&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Stormy, riding Osceola's Spear, drives into the middle of a live remote broadcast. The TV REPORTER has to jump out of the way. She grabs his mike and turns to the camera.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;STORMY &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Hi, remember me? Just thought I'd let you know Stormy Jones is back&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;in town and I just stole JT Osceola's bad ass bike. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;A heavyset SECURITY GUARD is pushing people aside and rushing toward camera.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Stormy guns the chopper and roars away. She turns back and yells. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;STORMY (CONT'D) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Tell Nokosee to keep an eye out for me!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;The security guard stops short as the TV reporter and the TV cameraman, still shooting, join him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EXT. BUSIMMANOLOTOME'S CHICKEE-- DAY&lt;br /&gt;A TV screen shows Stormy driving away. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;NOKOSEE, wearing only a loincloth, is watching TV inside the family chickee. He turns to the side.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;NOKOSEE &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Dad, she's got Osceola's Spear!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;CREDITS/MUSIC END.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;To read the beginning of &lt;span style="color: rgb(255, 255, 51);"&gt;Nokosee: Rise of the New Seminole&lt;/span&gt; script, please click &lt;a href="http://nokoseeopening.blogspot.com/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;. To read the last few pages of that script, please click &lt;a href="http://nokoseemovie.blogspot.com/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;. To discover the book, please click &lt;a href="http://www.nokosee.blogspot.com/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;. To read the FBI's blog re Nokosee and Stormy, please click &lt;a href="http://stormyphonehomenow.blogspot.com/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;. To read Stormy's blog taunting the FBI, please click &lt;a href="http://newseminole.blogspot.com/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3731469569266969005-6609895874041187389?l=nokoseeandstormy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://nokoseeandstormy.blogspot.com/feeds/6609895874041187389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://nokoseeandstormy.blogspot.com/2009/08/nokosee-and-stormy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3731469569266969005/posts/default/6609895874041187389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3731469569266969005/posts/default/6609895874041187389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://nokoseeandstormy.blogspot.com/2009/08/nokosee-and-stormy.html' title='Nokosee and Stormy: Love &amp; Bullets a book and Native American Screenplay'/><author><name>Verticus Erectus</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Fq7AKH63dSU/SawcZMbmLpI/AAAAAAAAAzk/0s_kxW2DMVY/S220/GumsandalsLens.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Fq7AKH63dSU/Sonj2uPoN3I/AAAAAAAABQk/e0H3ICJ7ig0/s72-c/NokoseeStormyArt.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
