Friday, April 18, 2008


                     DOUGIE sits at an outside table of the Hopped-Up coffee shop.  A hipster
                doofus in $90 pants, distressed fake Army vest and Vans walks by with his
                girlfriend, another fashion casualty with a round ass.  DOUGIE notices her.


DOUGIE – (to himself) Oooo, bubble-ass.

$90 PANTS – (to DOUGIE) What did you just say?

DOUGIE – Nothing.  Just thinking outloud.

$90 PANTS – You called my girlfriend “bubble-ass!”

BUBBLE ASS – Yeah!  What the fuck?

DOUGIE – No, no.  I think I would remember something like that.

BUBBLE ASS – I heard you!  He heard you!  What’s your problem?

DOUGIE – No problem.  Really.  I don’t want any trouble.

$90 PANTS – Oh, you just put some trouble on layaway, you faggot!


$90 PANTS proceeds to shove DOUGIE from his chair, spilling his five
subject notebook to the ground. DOUGIE hits the ground as $90 PANTS
                spots the notebook and grabs it.


$90 PANTS – What have we got here, Poindexter?


 $90 PANTS flips through it.


DOUGIE – Hey!  C’mon!  You don’t really want to read that!  I’m sorry, okay?  Just give it back!

$90 PANTS – You were writing about my girlfriend!


  BUBBLE looks over $90 PANTS’ shoulder to read.


BUBBLE ASS – You even referred to me as “Bubble Ass!!”  What the fuck?

DOUGIE – Listen, I didn’t . . . I mean, it’s about you, but “Bubble Ass” is more like a metaphor.

BUBBLE ASS – For what?

DOUGIE – The . . . war?


                $90 PANTS throws the notebook back at DOUGIE, who catches it, 
                gets up and brushes himself off.


$90 PANTS – Apologize.

DOUGIE – What?

$90 PANTS – Apologize to my girlfriend, you faggot!

DOUGIE – Alright.  Listen, uh . .

$90 PANTS – Her name’s Ruthie.  And get down on your knees, for God’s sake!

DOUGIE – C’mon!

$90 PANTS – Do it or I beat your scrawny ass!


                DOUGIE sighs and gets down on his knees.  A crowd is beginning to gather.


DOUGIE – Ruthie . . .


DOUGIE – I’m sorry.

$90 PANTS – Good.  That’s better.

DOUGIE gets up.


DOUGIE – I’m sorry you’ve got a bubble ass.


  DOUGIE sprints like a marathon runner down a nearby alley.


DOUGIE – Beeyewww-awww!


                $90 PANTS starts to run after him. BUBBLE ASS stops him.


BUBBLE ASS – Jerub, wait!  It’s true.

$90 PANTS – Ruthie, no!

BUBBLE ASS – I do have a shapely, misformed ass.

$90 PANTS – No, Ruthie, you don’t!

BUBBLE ASS – I have one and I accept that.

$90 PANTS – Well, then.  So do I.


                $90 PANTS and BUBBLE ASS embrace as the both of them begin to cry.
                A street lamp flickers above them.  The crowd disperses.  
The alleyway down
                the corner lights up, revealing DOUGIE in a fetal position, out of breath. 
                He hears them crying and wants to cry along with them, but he can’t bring
                himself to get off the ground.                        



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