Suburbia Page #2

JEFF:

Because I'm alienated.

BUFF:

Hey! Hey, you like orgasms? Oh, yeah!

(yells)

Oh, Hey, hey, I'm at work yesterday, b*tch comes in, orders a

twelve-inch pie with extra cheese. So I ask her if she wanted me,

like, to carry that out to her car for her. B*tch is obviously in

heat. "Yes, right away." So I carry the pie out to her car. We

smoke a J. She blows me. We eat the pizza, I chase her with the

beer. Smoke, babe, slice, brew. All four bases, f***in' home run

man!

Jeff walks over towards the payphone, Buff follows. He dials a

number.

JEFF:

Your ability to fantasize is only exceeded by your ability to

lie.

BUFF:

Oh, untrue, Jeffster. I think, uh, two weeks ago we attended a

concert where I had f***ed two girls.

JEFF:

(into telephone)

Hey, it's me. No, that's, that's the ultimate liar of liars.

BUFF:

And your mom.

JEFF:

(into telephone)

No, I'm here. Where are you?

BUFF:

Where are you-hoo?

JEFF:

(into telephone)

No, no, no, no, I don't wanna be stuck with the guy. I want the

tickets.

BUFF:

Stuck, who? What guy? Huh?

JEFF:

Shut up! Aw...

Nazeer opens the front doors of the Circle A and shouts at Buff

and Jeff.

NAZEER:

Look, you can't be out here all night tonight, okay?

Tim comes out from around the corner. Jeff continues talking on

the phone ignoring the argument.

BUFF:

Hey, we're just having a conversation.

NAZEER:

This is private property, my friend.

TIM:

Come on man.

BUFF:

Hey, don't tell us about private property. This is America, my

friend.

NAZEER:

Look, look, look. You gotta go now, okay? The customers complain.

BUFF:

We're your customers. We're not complaining.

NAZEER:

Please!

Nazeer walks back into the store. Buff and Tim walk back around

the corner towards the dumpster. Jeff is sitting by himself. Buff

goes to sit down next to him.

JEFF:

You don't need to sit next to me right now.

TIM:

Who were you talking to?

JEFF:

Nobody. Sooze.

BUFF:

Stuck with what guy?

JEFF:

What?

BUFF:

You said you didn't want to get stuck with some guy. What guy?

JEFF:

No, uh, nobody. It's, uh, it's my birthday this week and Sooze's

brother might come by to wish me a happy birthday.

BUFF:

It's your birthday?

JEFF:

Yeah.

BUFF:

Well, sh*t! Happy f***ing birthday!

Tim and Buff grab Jeff and form a line, simulating sex. BEE-BEE

approaches.

BUFF AND TIM:

Happy birthday! Happy f***in' birthday!

BEE-BEE

Um, is Sooze around?

JEFF:

Uh, yeah, she should be coming by.

BEE-BEE

Uh, well, what'd she say? Is Pony coming?

JEFF:

I don't know.

BUFF:

Want a beer?

(to Jeff)

Is Pony coming?

BEE-BEE

No, thanks. I don't drink. Um, well, what'd she say? I mean, did

she talk to him?

TIM:

Pony? What's a "pony"? You mean that geek who played the folk

music at the senior prom? What's that guy's name? Neil Moynihan?

BUFF:

Oh, Pony's band "Dream Girls"? Been on the road opening for

"Midnight Hore". Stadiums, man.

(to Jeff)

Wait, so Pony's coming by here?

BEE-BEE

(to Tim)

Didn't you see their video on MTV?

TIM:

No, I shot my TV.

BUFF:

But, so, Pony's comin' by here to the corner?

JEFF:

He's around and, you know, maybe he's coming by. Sooze told him

to come by and hang out, whatever. It's no big deal. Me, him, and

Sooze are gonna...

TIM:

Oh, no, you wanted to get together with your close friend, Pony,

the rockstar. I understand. So you, do you, want us to, leave?

JEFF:

No. We were just gonna go someplace or something to...

BEE-BEE

We are?

JEFF:

Alright. She told him to meet us here. F***.

BUFF:

(excited)

Pony's coming here to the corner?!

JEFF:

Yeah, no, it wasn't even my idea.

TIM:

Jeff, Jeff, if you want to be alone with Pony, you know, that's,

that's fine with us.

JEFF:

Sooze wants to see him.

TIM:

Well, you know, I wanna f***ing see him. I gotta know what it's

like to be on MTV.

BUFF:

Yeah, we all want to see him. So when's he coming?

BEE-BEE

Yeah, when's he coming?

JEFF:

I don't know. Later. I don't know.

BUFF:

(yells)

Yes!

FADE OUT:

FADE IN:

EXT. CIRCLE A - PARKING LOT - LATER - NIGHT

Jeff and Sooze are kissing.

JEFF:

God, I haven't seen you all day.

SOOZE:

You could've come over.

JEFF:

I know, I know, I know.

Jeff pulls out the front of Sooze's pants and looks inside them.

JEFF (CONT'D)

Oh! Trim it!

SOOZE:

I hate that.

JEFF:

Sorry. Let's go back to the van right now.

SOOZE:

No. I'm not going to the van, it's so gross. Come on. I'm doing

my performance right now.

JEFF:

Okay, so maybe later.

CUT TO:

EXT. CIRCLE A - PARKING LOT - NIGHT

Everyone is sitting around watching Sooze do her performance art

piece. She dances and jigs along with the words to her piece.

SOOZE:

Ow. Jesus. F*** Oliver Stone. F*** Bill Clinton. F*** Howard

Stern. F*** Michael Bolton. F*** O.J. Simpson. F*** Pope John

Paul. F*** my dad. F*** all the men. F*** all the men. F*** all

the men!

She begins to dance a jig.

SOOZE (CONT'D)

Bang your head, blow your nose.

Run down the street, suck a hose.

Chew my lips, eat some sh*t.

Eat a stick of dynamite and blow yourself to bits.

Shut your mouth, go away.

Drink my piss, have a nice day!

I hope you cry and never doubt.

I hope you die with blood in your mouth.

I hope your lies will no more shout

What's in my eyes, what's in your snout.

Your a pig! I know that's true!

I dance a jig! F*** you!

F*** you!

F*** you!

F*** you!

Sooze ends her piece and looks at everyone.

SOOZE:

So?

Everyone slowly starts to applaud.

BEE-BEE

That was really great.

SOOZE:

Was it okay?

BEE-BEE

Yeah!

SOOZE:

What did you guys think?

BEE-BEE

Slides go with it.

SOOZE:

Behind me. I'm making these slides out of these old pictures and

paintings and stuff.

JEFF:

Was that supposed to be me?

SOOZE:

No.

JEFF:

Yes.

BEE-BEE

It's called "Burger Manifesto, Part One The Dialectical

Expression of Testosterone." Isn't that a great title?

SOOZE:

Why is everything about you, Jeff?

JEFF:

No, not, not everything. This. I am the man in your life.

SOOZE:

Man?

JEFF:

Yeah, man, male, significant other, whatever the f*** I am.

SOOZE:

It's a piece.

JEFF:

Your sure as hell right about that.

SOOZE:

I'm not doing it anywhere, Jeff. It's just part of my application

to the School of Visual Arts in New York.

BUFF:

Ah, you know people there?

SOOZE:

I'm just gonna go. I figure the worst I can do is starve to

death.

JEFF:

"The worst I can do is starve to death." Listen to you.

SOOZE:

I don't want to hear it anymore.

JEFF:

No, no, no. Y-you know what? Y-your packing your bags, you're

jumping into the unknown because some conceptual artist who

teaches at a community college is having a mid-life crisis and he

wants to sleep with some girl half his age, so he tells you you

have talent.

SOOZE:

Mister Brooks has had shows in New York, Jeff. He's been reviewed

in Art Forum. I think he knows.

JEFF:

(in mock British accent)

Oh, well, then you better listen to him.

SOOZE:

Well, f***! Might as well not do anything! Let's just stick out

thumbs up our asses and twirl.

TIM:

Yes, that's right. You know what, honey? You should go to New

York. You should go. Go show 'em. They need your unique point of

view.

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