If Sam Peckinpah were influenced by David Lynch you would have a screenplay like Monsoon Season. A GENRE-TWISTING DESERT NOIR, ROM-COM, SHOOT 'EM UP. While Jack Raincloud a broken-down, half-breed, former rodeo bull rider was working on the chain gang his wife, Jennifer, transformed from a plain Jane waitress at the local Waffle House into the hottest stripper in a corrupt bordertown where everyone is a thug, a grifter, or a degenerate. Once out of prison, Jack finds that his wife has divorced him and is now making time with a misogynist strip club patron. Jack's parole officer strong-arms him into delivering money for a sadomasochist drug dealer, who is in law enforcement's crosshairs, and who also happens to be the bordertown's credit dentist. Jack uses the drug dealer's money to bet on a crooked horse race. When the drug dealer discovers Jack's deed, he orders that Jack be killed on general principle. On the same night that Jack decides to get out of Dodge, Jennifer shoots her sugar daddy while he is raping her. Jennifer fleas wearing only a gold lamé G-string and clutching a nickel-plated .357 Magnum pistol and ends up at the same gas station where Jack is filling his old Cadillac's gas tank. Soon they are on the lam together with the drug kingpin dentist seeking Jack to exact punishment and the law hot on Jennifer's tail for the homicide. Jack and Jennifer must wait out the night so she can retrieve the six-figures of cold hard cash she acquired from years of stripping & pole-dancing, secured in a bank safe deposit box. They might not survive when the forces converge on the bank, but the dire circumstances might rekindle their relationship.