Suburbia Page #11

BUFF:

Good. See you later.

NAZEER:

You're a drunk and an idiot.

BUFF:

You're wife sucks my cock every night, swallows my cum and loves

it. That's okay.

NAZEER:

Yeah it's okay. You know, we have a saying back home: "Either the

salt is rotten or the meat."

Nazeer starts to go back into the store.

BUFF:

Yeah, well, uh, you're not so smart, chief, 'cause I'm moving out

to L.A.

NAZEER:

Ah, that's nice. They have many convenience stores there for you

to stand in front of.

Nazeer walks back into the store. Buff goes back around to the

side of the building where Jeff is sitting against the wall.

BUFF:

Yeah. Get ahold of Sooze?

JEFF:

No, no, I wasn't trying.

BUFF:

She was at the Four Seasons last night, man. But you shouldn't

worry about that.

JEFF:

No, I'm not, I'm not worried. I'm not worried.

BUFF:

No. Life is too short.

JEFF:

No, I'm not worried.

BUFF:

Good.

JEFF:

Uh, Buff, I'm, I'm, gonna tell you something and, uh, you got,

you got, you gotta promise not to tell anyone, alright?

BUFF:

Sure.

JEFF:

No, I mean, no one.

BUFF:

Hey, you know me.

JEFF:

Buff, look at me for a second. No, this is serious.

BUFF:

Yeah.

JEFF:

Uh, last night...

BUFF:

Yeah, I should've stuck up for you, man, I know. You're my

friend, she's your old lady.

JEFF:

No, no.

BUFF:

I feel really bad about that, but I was busy, you know, I mean...

JEFF:

No, look, this is not about Sooze, alright. Wait, wait, wait,

wait. She stayed at the Four Seasons last night with Pony?

BUFF:

Yeah, we all stayed at the Four Seasons, man. It was party time.

Hey, I hung out with Danny, Pony's manager. Really nice guy. We

talked about the video. They want a raw look. Something fresh.

Danny said if I can capture the reality of Burnfield, it'd make a

great tape.

JEFF:

Okay, Buff, listen to me for a second alright?

BUFF:

No, I know what you're going to say. I don't know anything about

making a video. But that's a plus.

JEFF:

No.

BUFF:

Because since I'm just starting out, I've got a fresh point of

view, and that's good for, you know, marketing, demographics...

JEFF:

Buff, listen to me. Could you just-

BUFF:

But I'd, I'd do it for free. You know, just for my reel.

JEFF:

Buff, can you listen to me for a second?

BUFF:

Oh, and guess who showed up.

JEFF:

No, shut up! Look, look, alright, Tim is in trouble.

BUFF:

I know, man.

JEFF:

You know?

BUFF:

Yeah, that's what I'm trying to tell you. That chick Erica?

JEFF:

What, they're looking for her?

BUFF:

No man, she showed up last night at the hotel. We has a great

time together. I stayed in her room last night, man. What can I

say?

JEFF:

Wait a minute, wait a minute. You saw Erica last night?

BUFF:

Yeah, I saw all of Erica last night, man.

JEFF:

Buff, you got to stop making sh*t up. It didn't happen.

BUFF:

Y- s-sure it did.

JEFF:

No. It didn't, Buff.

BUFF:

Wait. Hey, man.

JEFF:

Erica is in the van back there.

BUFF:

What?

JEFF:

Look.

BUFF:

Hey, man.

JEFF:

She's in the van.

BUFF:

What she doin' in the van, man?

JEFF:

Buff...

BUFF:

What?

JEFF:

She's dead.

BUFF:

She's dead?

JEFF:

Look, Tim confessed to me last night.

BUFF:

Tim...

JEFF:

Tim killed Erica. Tim's a murderer.

BUFF:

Bullshit.

JEFF:

No, no, no.

BUFF:

That's bullshit. That's total utter bullshit.

JEFF:

Oh, really? You wanna go look?

BUFF:

Yeah, man.

JEFF:

Let's go look, then. Let's go look, then!

BUFF:

It's bullshit. Look! Look!

Pony's limo pulls into the parking lot, and Erica pops out.

ERICA:

Cock-a-doole-doo! Good morning!

Erica throws herself on Buff.

BUFF:

Hey! Hey.

ERICA:

I'm so burnt-out.

BUFF:

Oh, how did you get burnt-out?

ERICA:

Playing with something really hot. Yeah.

BUFF:

Yeah?

Erica notices her pager in Jeff's hand.

ERICA:

Oh, my God, you found it. Thank you so much.

(to Buff)

Did you get your tape?

BUFF:

Yup. Hey, um, so, um, listen, man, I got to go show the tape to

Danny at the hotel, and if I get the gig, Erica is gonna teach me

how to surf in L.A.

ERICA:

Oh, I'll teach you how to surf even if you don't get the gig.

BUFF:

I can come visit?

ERICA:

You better! Yes!

BUFF:

I will.

ERICA:

It was really nice meeting you, Jeff. If you're ever in L.A., you

should come by the offices. I talked to Pony earlier. He said he

had a really nice time and he's really looking forward to reading

some of your songs.

JEFF:

Yeah, tell Pony to go f*** himself.

ERICA:

Okay, I'll do that. Okay, hurry up.

Erica and Buff play fight. It look's like a mix between an old

kung-fu movie and a cat fight. Erica gets back into the limo.

BUFF:

Ow! Hey! Get the heck in there!

(to Jeff)

Hey... Not dead! Definitely not dead!

JEFF:

Guess not.

BUFF:

See, I wasn't making sh*t up, man.

JEFF:

No.

BUFF:

God, Tim lied to your ass, man. That guy's sad, man. Well, uh, I

gotta go, but, uh, listen, if I don't come back, I'll send a

video of me surfing. Alright, man? Get some rest. Go with the

flow.

JEFF:

Alright. 'Bye, Buff.

Buff jumps into the limo.

BUFF:

Hey, George.

The limo pulls off and it passes Tim who just entered the parking

lot.

BUFF:

(to Tim)

Hey, man.

TIM:

Hey.

Tim walks over to Jeff and cracks open a new beer.

JEFF:

They let you out?

TIM:

Yeah, of course they let me out. Chickenshits. I gotta pay some

class C misdemeanor ticket. So did I call it or did I call it?

She spent the night, didn't she? Hm? Oh, that sucks for you, pal.

Oh, sh*t.

JEFF:

You lied to me.

TIM:

You want to know what your problem is, Jeff? You want to believe

so bad, you'll buy anything. It's true. Look at you. You're

gullible and you're gutless.

JEFF:

No, no. That's not the way it is at all. No, I stayed up all

night trying to figure out how to protect my best friend. Wait,

yeah, no, I was trying to come up with some lie so that you

wouldn't have to go to jail for the rest of your life.

TIM:

Wow. You did that for me?

JEFF:

Yes.

TIM:

Well, you know, all I can say is, you're a f***ing fool.

JEFF:

Why? Because I give a sh*t?

TIM:

Oh, sh*t.

JEFF:

Because I care, I'm a f***ing fool?

TIM:

Oh, Jeff, give me a break. You didn't even have the guts to go

look in the van, did you?

JEFF:

Oh no, no. You know what? F*** that. No, you lied to me. You lied

to me because you're gutless. You're a gutless, drunken looser.

TIM:

I'm a loser. And I'm drunk. But I'm not gutless.

JEFF:

You know, and what are you doing here in the first place, man?

He's just gonna call the cops again.

TIM:

Good, good. I, I hope he does.

JEFF:

The sun hasn't even come up yet and you're drinking.

TIM:

Hey, you saw that brown b*tch point a gun at me last night, man.

Did you think she was gonna use it?

JEFF:

I don't know.

TIM:

You don't know?

JEFF:

No.

TIM:

Come on. You don't think that after they called the cops on me,

her and Mohammed had a nice laugh?

JEFF:

No.

Tim pulls a gun out of his pants and loads it.

TIM:

No? Well, I disagree. I think they did. I think they probably

went home last night and, you know, kicked off their sandals and

had a nice laugh about the drunk on the corner, you know? Makes

me sick.

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