B (staring at the menu): When did eggs become so expensive?
G: You make me sick.
B: Don't start on me again. Will you get over it already?
G: Look around you, Billy. Look around you.
(Billy looks around).
B: Yeah, what?
G: It's freakin' freezing outside Billy. It's freezing!
B: Yeah, well, you should've brought a jacket.
G: You should've brought a jacket!
B: I did bring a jacket. And gloves.
G: You should've brought one for me.
B: Why on earth is it my responsibility to bring you a jacket?
G: Because I'm your girlfriend. And I thought you cared about me.
B: Look. I know you have daddy issues, and I am older than you, but-
G: Excuse me. Daddy issues?
B: Yeah.
G: How dare you bring up my father here.
B: Oh I'm sorry, are you only allowed to talk about him with your therapist?
G: You disgust me.
B: Whatever. I don't even care any more.
G: Lower your voice, will you?
B (yelling): I will not lower my voice. I will speak as loud as I want to.
G: Don't cause a scene.
B (yelling): She told me not to cause a scene. I think it's too late for that.
G: That's real mature, Billy. Real mature.
B: Yeah, well. Whatever.
G: Is that all you have to say?
B: That's all I could think of.
G: I can't do this anymore, Billy. I'm leaving.
B: Fine. Get your stuff out of my apartment. You know, it'll be nice to have my bedroom back to myself.
G: No, I wasn't saying I'm moving out, I'm just leaving the restaurant.
B: Oh.
G: Why, do you want me to move out?
B: No. Not unless you want to move out.
G: I don't want to move out.
B: Then I don't want you to move out.
G: Okay then.
(Pause).
B: Look, I'm sorry I didn't bring you a jacket, okay? Do you want to wear mine?
G: No. It doesn't match my outfit. But thank you.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Friday, September 25, 2009
Sketch
Buster
Then the favorite child, the dog, laying quietly, victoriously, staring like a curious toddler with no eyelids, pretending now to be a log, now a newspaper, now a sack of potatoes, while his tongue nearly falls asleep from boredom. He stares and yawns at the TV, no job, as he scratches himself and reminds everyone around him how terrible their life is. Then suddenly he stands up, as if he could read my mind, as if he were finally going to get a job, do something with his life, anything. His confused, wobbly legs struggle to hold his weight up, as awkward as a handshake in the men's room. But he doesn't get dressed, doesn't check the want ads, doesn't answer the phone. Instead he simply turns around in a circle, lays back down, and begins to lick himself. Again.
Then the favorite child, the dog, laying quietly, victoriously, staring like a curious toddler with no eyelids, pretending now to be a log, now a newspaper, now a sack of potatoes, while his tongue nearly falls asleep from boredom. He stares and yawns at the TV, no job, as he scratches himself and reminds everyone around him how terrible their life is. Then suddenly he stands up, as if he could read my mind, as if he were finally going to get a job, do something with his life, anything. His confused, wobbly legs struggle to hold his weight up, as awkward as a handshake in the men's room. But he doesn't get dressed, doesn't check the want ads, doesn't answer the phone. Instead he simply turns around in a circle, lays back down, and begins to lick himself. Again.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Scene
Two men driving down a dark highway in the rain.
Brad: This is a good song.
Driver: What?
(Silence.)
Brad: I said-
Driver: What did you say?
Brad: I said this was a good song.
Driver: Do you want me to turn it off?
Brad: No, no. I like it. I was just saying it's a good song. You don't have to turn it off.
(Silence.)
Brad: Unless you want to turn it off.
Driver: What?
Brad: You can turn it off if you want to, I don't care.
Driver: I like this song.
Brad: Yeah. Yeah, me too. You should turn it up.
Driver: But then we can't talk.
Brad: Right. Right. That's a good point.
(Silence.)
Brad: So did you grow up around here?
Driver: I don't even know where we are.
Brad: We're in Beaver, I think. Yeah, there's a sign right there. Beaver.
Driver: Yeah, I grew up right around here.
Brad: That's cool.
(Silence.)
Brad: This is a nice car. Buying or leasing?
Driver: We don't have to talk.
Brad: Yeah. Yeah, we don't have to talk. Who says we have to talk?
(Silence.)
Brad: Maybe I'll just turn up the radio-
Driver: What are you doing?
Brad: I was just going to turn up the radio.
Driver: I thought we talked about that already.
Brad: Oh yeah. Right. I forgot.
(Silence.)
Driver: I like to write poetry.
Brad: Yeah? Really?
Driver: Would you like to hear one of my poems?
Brad: Yeah. I would really- That would be nice.
Driver: Ooh baby, baby. It is a wild world. It's hard to get by just upon a smile girl. Ooh baby, baby. It is a wild world. I'll always remember you like a child, girl.
Brad: That's Cat Stevens, right?
Driver: Excuse me?
Brad: No, maybe-
(Silence.)
Brad: Never mind. I don't know- Never mind.
Driver: I wrote it for my daughter.
Brad: Really? You have a daughter?
Driver: Yeah, I have a daughter. Her name's Cat.
Brad: This is a good song.
Driver: What?
(Silence.)
Brad: I said-
Driver: What did you say?
Brad: I said this was a good song.
Driver: Do you want me to turn it off?
Brad: No, no. I like it. I was just saying it's a good song. You don't have to turn it off.
(Silence.)
Brad: Unless you want to turn it off.
Driver: What?
Brad: You can turn it off if you want to, I don't care.
Driver: I like this song.
Brad: Yeah. Yeah, me too. You should turn it up.
Driver: But then we can't talk.
Brad: Right. Right. That's a good point.
(Silence.)
Brad: So did you grow up around here?
Driver: I don't even know where we are.
Brad: We're in Beaver, I think. Yeah, there's a sign right there. Beaver.
Driver: Yeah, I grew up right around here.
Brad: That's cool.
(Silence.)
Brad: This is a nice car. Buying or leasing?
Driver: We don't have to talk.
Brad: Yeah. Yeah, we don't have to talk. Who says we have to talk?
(Silence.)
Brad: Maybe I'll just turn up the radio-
Driver: What are you doing?
Brad: I was just going to turn up the radio.
Driver: I thought we talked about that already.
Brad: Oh yeah. Right. I forgot.
(Silence.)
Driver: I like to write poetry.
Brad: Yeah? Really?
Driver: Would you like to hear one of my poems?
Brad: Yeah. I would really- That would be nice.
Driver: Ooh baby, baby. It is a wild world. It's hard to get by just upon a smile girl. Ooh baby, baby. It is a wild world. I'll always remember you like a child, girl.
Brad: That's Cat Stevens, right?
Driver: Excuse me?
Brad: No, maybe-
(Silence.)
Brad: Never mind. I don't know- Never mind.
Driver: I wrote it for my daughter.
Brad: Really? You have a daughter?
Driver: Yeah, I have a daughter. Her name's Cat.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
First Page
The Man Who Died Laughing
My brother Harold's a jerk. Don't get me wrong, I love him. But if we weren't related, I doubt I'd ever talk to him. That's what makes this so difficult. See, I just got a call from my mom this morning. Harold's dead.
I remember when we were little, probably 8 or 9. He was a year younger than me, but he always acted older. We were sitting around the house, bored. He picked up the phone, dialed a number, and hung up. I asked who it was and he just laughed. A few minutes later, the doorbell rang. Two cops stood at the doorstep, scared me to death. They said a 9-1-1 call was made. Harold was nowhere to be found. I realized I was a target of another one of his pranks. I don't remember laughing.
Of course I'm going to the funeral. I just don't know what I'm going to say.
My brother Harold's a jerk. Don't get me wrong, I love him. But if we weren't related, I doubt I'd ever talk to him. That's what makes this so difficult. See, I just got a call from my mom this morning. Harold's dead.
I remember when we were little, probably 8 or 9. He was a year younger than me, but he always acted older. We were sitting around the house, bored. He picked up the phone, dialed a number, and hung up. I asked who it was and he just laughed. A few minutes later, the doorbell rang. Two cops stood at the doorstep, scared me to death. They said a 9-1-1 call was made. Harold was nowhere to be found. I realized I was a target of another one of his pranks. I don't remember laughing.
Of course I'm going to the funeral. I just don't know what I'm going to say.
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