Small Town Saturday Night Page #2

- Yeah, sure.

- Okay.

- T, can you cover?

- Yeah yeah yeah.

What's up?

What's wrong?

Sam, talk to me.

I don't know if I can do this.

Do what?

The move.

What?

Sam...

don't do this, not now.

I mean, we're leaving in two days.

Everything's planned.

I'm playing my last show

tonight and we're--

we're getting the truck tomorrow.

Come on, babe, what do you--

what do you always say?

- Your future is our future.

- Exactly.

I know.

I'm just-- I'm really worried

about Megan and I--

Yeah, I know.

She's gonna be fine.

She'll have us.

It's all gonna work out.

I promise.

But Megan needs her father.

That's bullshit and you know it.

I've done more for that girl

in the past two years

than Tommy ever has.

Rhett, come on.

- Hold on!

- I need my f***ing gas pumped.

- Travis, can't you help me out here?

- With what?

I need some help over here,

for Christ's sake.

So what, you're just gonna go?

I'm sorry.

Maybe we shouldn't talk about this--

I can't f***ing believe

you're doing this today.

- We'll talk about it when you get off.

- Yeah, whatever.

What do you want?

- A**holes!

- Hey, f*** you!

- You want some advice?

- No.

Happy is happy and sh*t is sh*t.

You need to figure out which is which.

What the f***?

Good grief, you're--

you're just like my wife.

- Oh, shut up.

- Yeah, she sits on the goddamn couch.

She'll eat a gallon of ice cream

and then she cries to me

about getting fat.

You see, I tell her it's a simple

mathematical equation.

Less calories consumed,

more calories burned--

that equals weight loss.

But does she want a solution?

No no no.

Not to that problem.

She'd rather me just sit there

and listen to her b*tch and moan.

What-- what are you doing?

All right, honey, this is the part

where you start to cry.

Oh, shut your trap.

All right, let me get this straight.

He just marched up to the house

and started punching Rodney

for no good reason?

Yeah, that's exactly what happened.

And you guys didn't

provoke him in any way?

No! He's f***ing crazy.

That's it. I am filing

a restraining order.

- I'm sick of this sh*t.

- Ange, I understand.

Tommy, you'd better do something.

All right, you wanna

press charges too, Rodney?

Hell, yeah, I do.

You guys are just gonna

have to go down to the station

and file a report.

Jesus Christ.

You guys have a nice day.

Yeah, well, thanks for nothing,

Columbo.

- Leslie.

- What?

I just got off the phone

with Joanne from the church.

And she was telling me

that her niece is staying with her

and that she is going to be attending

the junior college this fall.

- That's neat.

- Well, I was thinking that since...

you're gonna be taking

some classes down there too

that maybe the two of you should meet.

- Yeah, sure, whatever.

- Really? Good.

I'm gonna go call her and tell her yes.

Wait, Mom.

Mom, wait. Mom!

Mom, are you sure she's pretty?

- Hey, Rhett.

- Hey, Donny.

Hey.

Your old man ain't here.

- Where is he?

- Hell if I know.

So you're out, huh?

Yeah.

- Well, it went by fast.

- Not for me.

What was it like?

lt sucked sh*t.

You been all right?

Thought you'd be outta here by now.

So did I.

I wish I could do that--

just leave this shithole town,

never come back.

It's gonna be hard to leave.

Why? F*** this place.

My whole world's here.

You're lucky, you know?

You got a reason to leave

and a reason to stay.

I ain't got sh*t.

- Has your number changed?

- Absolutely not.

God, you look good, girl.

All right, I'll call ya.

All right.

That's all they had.

What?

- What up, fellas?

- Nice shorts, ball licker.

They prevent chafing

and whisk away perspiration.

Jesus, Les, did you shave your legs?

Maybe.

What a fag.

Hey, Dwayne, do you think

we can work on my rig today?

Yeah. Yeah, we can do that, Les.

- Les, why don't you go long?

- Yeah?

- Go real long.

- Okay.

You're cruel, man.

All right, Les,

why don't you grab your rig?

- Sorry.

- Go over to the station.

We'll see you there in a bit.

So what's your doll's name?

- Tinker.

- Tinker.

- Tinker the stinker?

- Yeah.

Hold on to Tinker there, sweetheart.

- Hold on here.

- Okay.

I'll take care of these jokers.

Don't be an ass.

I'm not gonna mount you.

- What's up, buddy?

- How you doing, man?

- Good to see you, Tommy.

- You too.

I heard you boys had to referee

a little boxing match this morning.

lt wasn't much of a fight though.

- Rodney got his ass kicked.

- Yeah? He's a lover, not a fighter.

I'd better have Paul deputize you two,

seeing as how ugly over here never put

that baseball scholarship to use.

And Lord knows I could use the help.

Looks like you already got some.

Yep.

How's she doing with all this?

A lot better than me, that's for sure.

Yeah.

I know how you feel, man.

I wish I had some advice for you, but...

- 210, 210, copy.

- So I-- I'd better get.

Well, see you guys tonight.

- Stay out of trouble.

- You too, Tommy.

- Use a condom.

- Not a chance.

Good to go, sweetheart.

I guess I'll see you around then.

- Yeah.

- All right, yeah.

- Take care of yourself.

- You too, man.

Hey, maybe I'll see you tonight, huh?

Sounds good.

- What's up, penis?

- What's up, dude?

- Travis!

- Oh my God, you a**hole.

Would you quit doin' that,

you douchebag?

- Let's play stickball.

- No.

- How's it going?

- Oh, shitty.

Hey there, my little beauty queen.

Get over here, you.

I'm gonna have you stay with Rhonda

for a little bit, okay?

Why can't I go with you?

Honey, this is one of those times

when your daddy can't take you with him.

Now you're gonna

stay here with me, okay?

- Okay.

- Great. All right, baby.

I'll see you in a little bit, all right?

Okay.

You wanna help me

sharpen some pencils?

- Yeah!

- All right.

You're on the clock now.

Get them good and sharp.

- Yah!

- What are you watching?

I can't believe what they get away with

on television these days.

Yeah, well, don't watch it then.

lt worries me, John.

I mean, aren't you

the least bit concerned?

Phyllis, what do you want me

to do about it?

Excuse me.

You can't handle this.

You can't handle it.

You're gonna be on

one of these magazines--

Mom!

Relax, Leslie.

I've seen your tally-whacker before.

Don't call me Leslie.

I hate it.

I'm doing the laundry.

I need that too.

I'll bring it down to you.

Mom...

I really don't like

your attitude, Leslie.

The more you hang around

your brother's friends,

the more disrespectful you are

to me and your father.

Hey there.

ls your mommy or daddy home?

Yeah?

Hi.

Get your asses back in this house.

What did I say?

F***in' a**hole.

Come on, you piece of sh*t.

Come on, you son of a b*tch.

We need the goddamn money now.

- I've tried already.

- He's right over there. Go get it.

It's the same goddamn story with you.

I don't give a sh*t, Darlene.

Just stop feeding your goddamn dog

my beef jerky.

Okay?

I seen you try to sneak

past me, buddy-boy.

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