Preservation Page #2

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Kids scare me. They're so short.

Why can't we ever have

this conversation?

I'm sorry, Wit. I have a lot on my mind.

My job, my brother.

You know, he's been sleeping in his car

ever since he's been back.

He got a job at a construction site.

He got fired for showing up drunk.

When we had that drink at the bar,

he told me that he isn't just on leave.

He told me he was discharged,

but he won't tell me why.

This was supposed to be our weekend.

You and me making... S'mores.

Making logistically-challenging love

in a sleeping bag.

- He's my brother.

- I'm your wife.

This is literally the longest conversation

we've had in three weeks.

We need to talk, Mike.

I need to talk to you.

Talk to me about what?

Sorry.

Walter, look, indices

are down, the S&P... Yeah.

A Boy Scout is trustworthy, loyal,

helpful, friendly, courteous, kind,

obedient, cheerful, thrifty,

brave, and relevant.

Reverent.

I'm pretty sure it's relevant.

How could a Boy Scout be relevant?

Sean here made it

all the way to Eagle Scout.

- Dad always liked you more.

- Shut up.

- I bet you were cute as Boy Scouts.

- We were not cute. We were monsters.

We used to push over Port-a-Potties

at the state fair.

We used to stuff raw meat

into people's mufflers.

We used to hotwire cars

in the shopping mall parking lot.

We'd break into golf courses

and shoot at squirrels.

Poster children

for the gun control lobby.

Shouldn't Boy Scouts

be singing "Kumbaya"?

The Neary family

is notoriously tone-deaf.

Our mom used to sing us lullabies

despite the fact that she couldn't sing.

At all. But no matter what...

if we were having nightmares

or we were too afraid to sleep,

she'd come into our room and sing

"The Bear Went Over the Mountain."

Like she could protect us

from all the evil in the world.

All the boogeymen under our bed.

F***ing song's been stuck

in my head for 30 years.

Tomorrow, we hunt the old-fashioned way.

No GPS.

No cheating.

Fine, then. I'll give it to my wife.

She's directionally challenged.

This way...

I can see you...

if you can't keep up tomorrow.

Tomorrow I think I'm just gonna

do some yoga and finish my book.

That's a good idea.

We should all do some yoga.

Maybe roast some tofu.

Really, you don't want to go hunting?

I'm not exactly the hunting type.

I don't have it in me. I just...

I don't think I could actually kill.

I think you'd be surprised at what

you can do when it needs to be done,

when it's fight or flight,

kill or be killed.

Self-preservation.

- You ever hear the story of Artemis?

- Greek goddess of hunting.

Artemis was just a little girl

when Zeus sent her into the woods

to fight the big, black bear Calisto.

Artemis decided that,

in order to defeat the bear,

she would have to become a bear.

So she cut off all her little girl hair,

she threw away

all of her little girl clothes,

she tied bearskin to her own skin,

she tied bear teeth to her own teeth.

She learned to walk on all fours.

And then one day,

she walked into the woods.

And into the cave.

Disguised from head to toe

in bear hides,

she approached

the hibernating black bear.

Calisto... believing that she was

his little cub,

cradled Artemis in his arms,

went back to sleep.

That's when Artemis found a rock,

and, with a strength

she never knew she had,

she broke his skull.

Later that night,

walking back to the village,

bearskin tied to her own skin,

bear teeth tied to her own teeth,

holding in her hands the head

of the big, black bear Calisto,

Artemis, it was decided,

was no longer a girl.

In that village, on that night...

Artemis became a god.

Sh*t.

Sorry. I have to take this.

I hope a bear eats his cell phone.

Walter, hey, yeah,

I'm in the middle of nowhere...

Smoke inhalation.

Mosquitoes. Moths.

I've determined I'd much rather read

about nature than experience it.

Guess you were never a Girl Scout.

I had a brief stint in the Brownies.

They kicked me out because I said

selling cookies was misogynist.

They kicked Mike out of Boy Scouts

for eating a pair of socks.

He took a game of Truth or Dare too far.

Truth or Dare is a dangerous game.

You wanna play?

Because Walter, Walter, listen.

They are highballing the valuation.

The IP will flatline.

This is not a blue chip.

This is a barely liquid piece

of undercapitalized Dutch horseshit.

There's blood in the water,

and the boys with the fins can smell it.

This is survival of the fittest.

Sink or swim, Walter.

Walter?

Oh, sh*t.

Walter?

Sh*t.

God.

All right, Buck, you bastard.

We're taking a selfie.

You son of a b*tch.

One, two, three, buddy. One, two, three.

You Eagle Scouts

sure make amazing S'more.

Just a minute,

I have chocolate on my face.

- Wash it down.

- I'm a lightweight.

Truth or Dare?

Truth.

Why did you get discharged?

When we were kids, we used

to play war in the woods.

We'd run around with our little plastic

guns and hide behind the pine trees.

You'd get one point each

for every kid that you killed.

And I killed every kid

in the neighborhood.

They'd all fall down and play dead.

The forest floor would be covered with all

these little bodies laying in the mulch.

Till dinner time.

Then they all got up and went home.

Game over.

Truth or Dare?

Truth.

When's the last time

you and Mike made love?

Sorry...

- I didn't make it to the wedding.

- It wasn't your fault.

Besides, the chocolate

fountain malfunctioned.

You didn't miss much.

Mike sent me photos.

Of you and the dress.

You looked beautiful.

I looked blotchy.

Irish skin.

Mike's a lucky man

to find a woman like you.

You got chocolate on your face.

It's getting late.

I'm gonna go to bed.

Put this pooch on a leash, please.

Let's hit the hay, little lady.

Mike?

Mike?

Wake up.

Mike, wake up.

Where the hell's the tent?

Somebody must have cut it.

Wait. What's that?

- Where's our stuff?

- I don't...

- Where's Sean?

- I... don't...

- Gone. Everything's gone.

- Sh*t.

Sean?

Sean! Sean!

Our shoes are gone.

- Someone took our shoes.

- Of course.

Of course he picked this weekend

to go totally PTSD on me.

Why would Sean steal our stuff?

Because he stopped taking his meds?

Because he's gonna become

a hermit and live off the grid?

Because he's jealous of me... of us?

I don't know, Wit.

I don't know why he did it.

And I definitely don't know

what he's gonna do next.

How do we know it was him?

- Who else could it be?

- They came from the east.

Down the declivity, right past me.

They cut to the left of the fire...

right here. They took all our stuff.

They cut your tent,

went off to the west over here.

And where exactly were you

when this was happening?

- I was sleeping.

- You must sleep pretty goddamn deep.

I drank a fifth of whiskey.

Are you telling me that somebody came,

and they took our tent, took our food,

took our water, and drew X's on our heads,

and you didn't hear or see a f***ing thing?

- Neither did you.

- Neither did I. I had my headphones on.

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