While I'm blogging, I decided to share a quick piece from this play write that I'm kind of dabbling with.\]p(All rights reserved and all that...surely now one wants to steal this junk) It's gonna be about these small town dudes who find themselves and their beliefs changing as modern times creep in on the small town. I don't really have character names picked out yet or a real plot, other than what I just mentioned.
In this scene, there's two buddies driving around after work in a truck... an old rusty Ford, with a rust habit and it's known for starting every time on the first crank of the key. The bed is empty, except for a tow rope and a bail of straw. The hand made gun rack was stolen from behind the seats by an accused local...
Random Stranger Conversation 1
“I'm telling you the guy's an asshole. He's been a fucking dick since the day he was born. He don't care about anybody but him...and that fucking jack off brother of his. He's dicked so many people over around here, it's a wonder he could walk down the street without people just ...straight up kicking him in the nuts...fucking dick.”
“He used to work at the tannery”
“Fuck that place. Dump. It used to be a good place to go...'till they started hiring fucks like him who just come in and fucking ruin it.”
“He bought my brother's truck”
“He fucking wrecked your brother's truck. THEN he bought it...for about half it was fucking worth. Some one oughta just punch him in the dick for that alone...that was a nice fucking truck and his drunk ass just fucking wraps it around a tree....and walks away like a dick...unharmed”
“He prolly should have been dead”
“Goddamn right....that would have sucked. People around here would have forgot how big of an asshole he was; just because he died being an asshole. Ain't that fucked up? -Be a dick your whole life and then people think it's so sad when you die being a fucking dick. Fucking dick. That was a nice truck.”
“They say they've been seeing a shitload of deer over by Ronnie's”
“No shit? You wanna go over there then? See if he still minds if we try and bag one down there? I hadn't seen shit the last three years. 'Almost sold my tree stand three times in the last two years. I swear. Man, that'd be great to fucking bag one this year. I didn't even go out second season last year...so pissed.”
“Yeah...we could go over there then. I gotta stop at home. Should I roll a joint? We could get a little blazed before we head down there then there.”
“Naw, man. I can't. You can. I swear I can't fucking smoke weed no more. -I get so god damn whacked out. Too damn stoney for words. Then I get all paranoid and shit. I don't know, man...it's like the shit is just too damn strong. -It ain't like when I used to burn 'em down.”
“Stop at the tannery for a sixer?”
“Hell yeah....and a shot. I was there last Sunday but it was bad news. I hope they ain't still pissed....but you gotta admit, dude; that race was fucking bull shit. Mary said I said something to some dude and he left all pissed...whatever”
“Are you two still trying to...”
“Hell no. She hates me. I've been a pile of shit since I got back, and I don't think she really wants to put up with it no more. I tried patching it up a little bit before the race, but then after two bullshit rain delays, I was fucking tight and couldn't no body talk to me. I guess it's my fault, but I don't know dude...some days I'm just like-”
“Oh dude...just drop me off here. I'll just run in and be right out. I wanna let her out before she shits in the house or chews up my chair again.”
“Oh shit. Yeah...I almost drove right passed.”
Ten minutes go bye...
Truck door opens....
“Jesus...what'y'do? Rub one out while you were in there? Little horny are you?”
“Nah...I wish. She shit just about every where”
“You're feeding her too much...you want her to be a fat fuck like you? One cup. Dry food. Get mine at path mark. With a coupon it's like they're giving you the shit.”
“She's allergic”
“You're allergic. She's not. Should have crate trained her ass”
“Ah...I don't know man. That seems kind of cruel”
“Yeah...cleaning up shit all over your house is a dream, isn't it? Crate training's the only way, dude. They fucking love it. It's like a little cave. They're dogs, dude. What do you think she's going to do while you're away all day? Laundry?...you gotta crate train.”
“I don't have a crate”
“I got two. Only use one. You can have the other....HOLY SHIT...what did you do? Stuff those turds in your pockets? My god that's a smell on you. Jeez. I can stand anything but the smell of dog shit...my god. Fucking dogs, man...I mean I love 'em more than most people, but that smell can go to hell...god damn. That shit's the worst...It's worse than anything”
“Ahh...shit. It's on my boot. Sorry, dude I wanted to change but I was trying to hurry. Pull over. Let me stomp in that puddle a bit. I can get the worst of it.”
“yeah, jeez.”
truck pulls over and man gets out to clean his boot in stone filled puddle
man gets back in truck and pulls pot cigarette from behind ear
“Yeah, light up that bone and get the smell out! (laughing)”
(coughing) “you sure you don't want some? (coughing) good shit”
“Ah. What the hell. Smells good enough”
Man passes joint back to other man. Joint passed back again to driver, who declines. The two drive silent to the tannery. One hit man asks the other to just run in and grab a sixer of 'pounders'
“I'll just stay out here, I wanna let the truck run...it's getting cold.”
“Oh, you just don't wanna see Mary.”
“Yup.”
“Ok..be right out”
Man runs into packed corner bar and returns to warm truck in mere seconds with six pack in brown bag.
“That was packed”
“It was quick, too...she said you're chicken shit”
“Yeah?...”
“Yup”
“That's my girl”
“She said 'see you sunday'”
“Bristol!”
“She said you'd say that”
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