Location: Nowhere
Split screen. On one half of the screen is a laundry room, where Gary, a young man in his early twenties,wearing red T-shirt and blue jeans. He folds clothes from the drier and puts them into a basket. On the other side of the screen an old man sits in a lounge chair, his back to the wall. His wife, of about the same age as he, faces him. She stands quietly before him, her arms crossed before her as her husband rants and raves.
Man: They never clean the freaking lint trap! Never!
Woman: Honey...
Man: Don't "honey" me. It's a disgrace. A crying shame.
Woman: Dear...
Man: No. Don't "dear" me either. It's ignorant. There are so many signs up instructing you to clean out the lint trap that not cleaning it ought to be subject to fines.
Woman: Sweetie...
Man: For Christ's sake, Ester, I put five of those signs up myself. It's plain English. "Clean the Lint Trap." I don't think it's possible to spell it out more clearly. A neanderthal could figure it out! It says "clean the lint trap", you clean the lint trap. Where the confusion comes in, I don't know.
Ester: Honey...
Man: Didn't I ask you not to "honey" me?!
Ester: Yes, but...
Man: Then stop "honeying" me. (Waves his hand in disgust) I don't know what's wrong with this world anymore. Humanity baffles me these days. The youth of our country consists of nothing more than rebels and morons.
Ester: Dear...
Man: No. Don't stop me. When I'm right, I know it. And I'm right. There are those who step out of line from the norm, which is good... But they don't use their individuality to any advantage, they just rebel without cause. What can they rebel against anymore, though, really? All their problems are fixed.
Ester: Don't you think...
Man: There are the rebels, and then there are the mindless drones that fill most of societys youth. Our future is both pathetic and frightening. I am thankful only that I will not live to see one of them in presidency.
Ester: But dear...
Man: I thought we talked about this "dear" thing already.
Ester: We did, but...
Man: But nothing. It's a screaming, crying shame. We live in an apartment full of kids, and they can't follow simple instructions. "Empty the lint trap." How fucking hard can that be?! You just run your finger across it, and it's clean. It's simple.
Ester: Maybe...
Man: What? Are you on their side? These filthy, insolent fools that can't figure out how to clean out a lint trap?! Are you on their side, now?!
Ester: No. I just...
Man: Then don't stand up for them! It's a damn shame. A damn shame, I tell you.
Ester: I just don't see what the problem is.
Man: You don't see what the problem is? Are you, blind? You can't see it? Can you hear it? I've been preaching it for long enough!
Ester: Dear-
Man: Have you not been listening?! If they can't bring themselves to understand something as simple as the mechanics of a lint trap... How can we expect them to rule our country? To lead our people? To control the future? I tell you, Ester, the future is damned. (Pulls a lever on the chair and it reclines.) Make me an orange juice and gin, would you?
Ester: Yes, dear. (Exits into a different part of the apartment which is off screen.)
Man: I thought we discussed the "dear" thing. (Sighs) Todays youth. You know what, Ester? I've heard someone in that laundry room, doing laundry for God knows how long... But I have yet to hear them empty the lint trap! There's a sound it makes, you know? A scraping sort of thing. And I have yet to hear it come from there. Ester, I tell you, it's a crying shame. (Ester returns with a glass of OJ & Gin, which she hands to Man, and then resumes her original stance, before Man, arms intertwined before her.)
Ester: It is too bad about that lint trap...
Man: "Too bad about the lint trap?" Ha! "Too bad about the lint trap!" You say! But what can be done? The lint trap will be cleaned out by none. I sit here and bitch, moan, and complain, but the results of this lint trap are always the same. It will alway be full, it never is done. The lint trap is full, the trap filler is gone. (Drinks) But what can I do, Ester? What can I do? A feeble old man like myself... What can I do?
Ester: You can stop bitching to me about it for one thing.
Man: What?
Ester: Co,plaining to me is acomplishing nothing.
Man: But, dear-
Ester: Don't "dear" me, Harry. Get off your wrinkled ass and go over there and give who ever is in there a piece of your mind.
Harry: But, dear-
Ester: I thought we discussed this "dear" thing already. Stop telling me about your problems with todays youth, and take care of it. (There is a moment of stunned silence shared between the two of them. Harry downs the rest of his OJ and Gin before standing up.)
Harry: You know, Ester? I think you might be right.
Ester: Now Harry, That's not exactly what I meant.
Harry: No-no Ester. You're right. There realy isn't any other way to handle it.
Ester: Harry-
Harry: Don't back out on me now, dear. For once you're making sense. (He walks to the door, opens it, and walks into the not-so-spacious laundry room. Gary is still folding his laundry.)
Harry: You there! (Gary stops his folding to look blankly puzzled at the man before him.) Do you realise how simple cleaning out the lint trap can be?
Gary: Uh... (Looks around in hopes that someone else is in there that the old man may be talkin to)
Harry: It's not at all difficult.
Gary: Yeah that's technology for you.
Harry: That's what's wrong with your generation, boy. You're all sarcasm and no brains.
Gary: Alright. (Resumes folding his clothes)
Harry: Look around you, boy! There are signs everywhere! (He points to a sign and reads it, pointing out each word individualy as he reads it) "Clean Lint Trap."
Gary: Yeah? I can read, mister.
Harry: Are you slow? (Gary stops folding and looks at Harry)
Gary: What?!
Harry: Are you slow, boy? Were you in the special classes?
Gary: Are you senile?!
Harry: How's that?
Gary: Are you senile, old man? Shitting your pants and receeding into infancy.
Harry: Why, you disrespectful son of a bitch...
Gary: You pushy, wrinkled ass mother fucker... (The two stare each other down for a while, none of them speaking)
Harry: Alright, look. We're off on the wrong track here. I just came over to make sure you cleaned the lint trap.
Gary: You came over to lecture me about a lint trap?!
Harry: There must be ten signs in this little laundry room. And still no one empties the accursed thing. I don't see what's so hard about it.
Gary: Well you can stop bitching at me. I cleaned the lint trap already.
Harry: Ah horse shit. You did not.
Gary: It just so happens that I did.
Harry: You did not.
Gary: I did.
Harry: There's only one type of person I like less than idiots. And that's liars.
Gary: Who says I'm lying? (Harry looks around the vacant room then returns his gaze to Gary)
Harry: Me. (He points to his chest with a thumb. Gary shrugs.)
Gary: And who are you?
Harry: I'm the old man who lives next door and kills people who don't empty the lint traps.
Gary: No shit?
Harry: No shit.
Gary: That's pretty harsh over a lint trap, don't you think? Harry shakes his head)
Harry: I don't have time to think.
Gary: I'm Gary. (Extends his hand. The old man hesitantly takes it and shakes it)
Harry: Harry. (They stop shaking hands)
Gary: No. Gary. (Shakes his head and goes back to folding clothes) Christ, your hearing must be going too. I'm suprised you can read all these signs at your age.
Harry: My name is Harry. (Gary stops folding and looks up)
Gary: Oh. That's interesting. I thought you misheard me.
Harry: I don't "mishear" things.
Gary: Oh yeah?
Harry: I hear everything. But there is one thing I don't hear. You know what that is? (Doesn't wait for a response) People emptying the lint trap. I never hear people emptying the lint trap. (Gary nods once) Do you know why I never hear people emptying the lint
Gary: Because your old age has caused you to lose your hearing?
Harry: No, damn it, I already told you my hearing is fine. It's because no one ever does it! Not a soul can take it upon themselves to run thier finger along the trap to empty the damn thing.
Gary: No one except you, I gather? (Folds the final pair of jeans and places it in the basket)
Harry: Basicaly, yes.
Gary: Man. That must realy suck. (Kicks the dryer door closed and reaches to grab his basket. The old man blocks the way.)
Harry: Where do you think you're going?
Gary: I'm done, Harry. I'm leaving.
Harry: Are you planning on emptying that lint trap out before you leave?
Gary: Oh God. You're not on that again! Get a life Harry, would you?! For the love of God!
Harry: You must have forgotten my last name, Gary.
Gary: Which is..?
Harry: Oldmanwholivesnextdoorandkillspeoplewhodon'temptythefuckinglinttrap.
Gary: That must be a bitch to spell.
Harry: Are you going to empty the lint trap or not?
Gary: Maybe I already did.
Harry: Horse shit.
Gary: How would you know? Did you check it out?
Harry: I don't need to. I never heard you clean it.
Gary: Look Harry, I hate to be the one to break this to you... But you're old, man. Maybe you didn't hear it.
Harry: I hear everything. You hear me boy?! Everything! There's a scraping sort of sound about it. I didn't hear the scraping sound.
Gary: Then maybe you forgot you heard it. Senility is a sign of age, you know?
Harry: I didn't hear it because you didn't do it.
Gary: I fucking cleaned it!
Harry: That's horse shit.
Gary: Yeah? Prove it. (Steps back. Harry looks at his for a moment before opening the dryer door and loking inside. He finds the lint trap full of lint.)
Harry: You see that!? It's not cleaned. (Gary fiegns astonishment)
Gary: Would you look at that?
Harry: Are you planning on cleaning this before you go?
Gary: You know? I don't even know how to clean one of these.
Harry: It's simple. You just run your finger accross the trap.
Gary: Care to demonstrate?
Harry: Yeah. Sure. Why not? (Harry runs his finger accorss a lint trap, picking up much lint.) You see? It's not so difficult.
Gary: Wow. That is truly is wuite amazing, Harry. Your performance of that task was without flaw.
Harry: Why thank you. But it is a relatively simple task.
Gary: You know, Harry? (Slips past Harry and picks his basket up from the ground, he begins to walk towards the door) You realy did a great job on that lint trap, and I'm realy enjoying our time here... But I have to pick my girl up from work.
Harry: You- (Gary stops and turns)
Gary: Thanks for getting that lint trap. I'll tell you what, Harry. Next time I'm done with my laundry, I'll knock on your door so you can get the lint trap with that expert precision you have.
Harry: But-
Gary: Now, now. I don't want to hear a word about it. It's the least I could do for you. I'll see you later, Harry. (Turns back to face the door.)
Harry: You just wait a second!
Gary: I can't. Like I told you, I have to pick my girlfriend up and from work.
Harry: Why can't you just follow the system?!
Gary: Fuck the system. (Exit Gary.)
Harry: You... (Lets out a deep breath) Ah, horse shit! (Throws ball of lint in his hand to the ground. He then returns to his apartment where his wife has stood statuesque for the duration of the laundry room seen.)
Ester: How did it go, dear?
Harry: Don't "dear" me, Ester. Make me an Oj and Gin, would you?
(Ester sighs and exits into the kitchen.)
Ester (Off screen): You realy shouldn't drink so much, Harry.
Harry: I don't mean to, Ester. I realy don't. But the youth of our society these days... It's enough to make you sick. The world is going down the tubes. Down the tubes, I tell you. (Ester returns, handing a glass of Oj and Gin to Harry.)
Ester: There you are, dear. (Harry downs a third of it in a swallow.)
Harry: I thought we talked about this "dear" thing already.
Ester: Yes dear, I'm sure we did.
Harry: You're still calling me dear!
Ester: Shut yor mouth and drink your Oj and Gin, Harry.
Harry: Yes dear.
-Fade Out-
Ester: Don't call me "dear", Harry.
-END-
Man: They never clean the freaking lint trap! Never!
Woman: Honey...
Man: Don't "honey" me. It's a disgrace. A crying shame.
Woman: Dear...
Man: No. Don't "dear" me either. It's ignorant. There are so many signs up instructing you to clean out the lint trap that not cleaning it ought to be subject to fines.
Woman: Sweetie...
Man: For Christ's sake, Ester, I put five of those signs up myself. It's plain English. "Clean the Lint Trap." I don't think it's possible to spell it out more clearly. A neanderthal could figure it out! It says "clean the lint trap", you clean the lint trap. Where the confusion comes in, I don't know.
Ester: Honey...
Man: Didn't I ask you not to "honey" me?!
Ester: Yes, but...
Man: Then stop "honeying" me. (Waves his hand in disgust) I don't know what's wrong with this world anymore. Humanity baffles me these days. The youth of our country consists of nothing more than rebels and morons.
Ester: Dear...
Man: No. Don't stop me. When I'm right, I know it. And I'm right. There are those who step out of line from the norm, which is good... But they don't use their individuality to any advantage, they just rebel without cause. What can they rebel against anymore, though, really? All their problems are fixed.
Ester: Don't you think...
Man: There are the rebels, and then there are the mindless drones that fill most of societys youth. Our future is both pathetic and frightening. I am thankful only that I will not live to see one of them in presidency.
Ester: But dear...
Man: I thought we talked about this "dear" thing already.
Ester: We did, but...
Man: But nothing. It's a screaming, crying shame. We live in an apartment full of kids, and they can't follow simple instructions. "Empty the lint trap." How fucking hard can that be?! You just run your finger across it, and it's clean. It's simple.
Ester: Maybe...
Man: What? Are you on their side? These filthy, insolent fools that can't figure out how to clean out a lint trap?! Are you on their side, now?!
Ester: No. I just...
Man: Then don't stand up for them! It's a damn shame. A damn shame, I tell you.
Ester: I just don't see what the problem is.
Man: You don't see what the problem is? Are you, blind? You can't see it? Can you hear it? I've been preaching it for long enough!
Ester: Dear-
Man: Have you not been listening?! If they can't bring themselves to understand something as simple as the mechanics of a lint trap... How can we expect them to rule our country? To lead our people? To control the future? I tell you, Ester, the future is damned. (Pulls a lever on the chair and it reclines.) Make me an orange juice and gin, would you?
Ester: Yes, dear. (Exits into a different part of the apartment which is off screen.)
Man: I thought we discussed the "dear" thing. (Sighs) Todays youth. You know what, Ester? I've heard someone in that laundry room, doing laundry for God knows how long... But I have yet to hear them empty the lint trap! There's a sound it makes, you know? A scraping sort of thing. And I have yet to hear it come from there. Ester, I tell you, it's a crying shame. (Ester returns with a glass of OJ & Gin, which she hands to Man, and then resumes her original stance, before Man, arms intertwined before her.)
Ester: It is too bad about that lint trap...
Man: "Too bad about the lint trap?" Ha! "Too bad about the lint trap!" You say! But what can be done? The lint trap will be cleaned out by none. I sit here and bitch, moan, and complain, but the results of this lint trap are always the same. It will alway be full, it never is done. The lint trap is full, the trap filler is gone. (Drinks) But what can I do, Ester? What can I do? A feeble old man like myself... What can I do?
Ester: You can stop bitching to me about it for one thing.
Man: What?
Ester: Co,plaining to me is acomplishing nothing.
Man: But, dear-
Ester: Don't "dear" me, Harry. Get off your wrinkled ass and go over there and give who ever is in there a piece of your mind.
Harry: But, dear-
Ester: I thought we discussed this "dear" thing already. Stop telling me about your problems with todays youth, and take care of it. (There is a moment of stunned silence shared between the two of them. Harry downs the rest of his OJ and Gin before standing up.)
Harry: You know, Ester? I think you might be right.
Ester: Now Harry, That's not exactly what I meant.
Harry: No-no Ester. You're right. There realy isn't any other way to handle it.
Ester: Harry-
Harry: Don't back out on me now, dear. For once you're making sense. (He walks to the door, opens it, and walks into the not-so-spacious laundry room. Gary is still folding his laundry.)
Harry: You there! (Gary stops his folding to look blankly puzzled at the man before him.) Do you realise how simple cleaning out the lint trap can be?
Gary: Uh... (Looks around in hopes that someone else is in there that the old man may be talkin to)
Harry: It's not at all difficult.
Gary: Yeah that's technology for you.
Harry: That's what's wrong with your generation, boy. You're all sarcasm and no brains.
Gary: Alright. (Resumes folding his clothes)
Harry: Look around you, boy! There are signs everywhere! (He points to a sign and reads it, pointing out each word individualy as he reads it) "Clean Lint Trap."
Gary: Yeah? I can read, mister.
Harry: Are you slow? (Gary stops folding and looks at Harry)
Gary: What?!
Harry: Are you slow, boy? Were you in the special classes?
Gary: Are you senile?!
Harry: How's that?
Gary: Are you senile, old man? Shitting your pants and receeding into infancy.
Harry: Why, you disrespectful son of a bitch...
Gary: You pushy, wrinkled ass mother fucker... (The two stare each other down for a while, none of them speaking)
Harry: Alright, look. We're off on the wrong track here. I just came over to make sure you cleaned the lint trap.
Gary: You came over to lecture me about a lint trap?!
Harry: There must be ten signs in this little laundry room. And still no one empties the accursed thing. I don't see what's so hard about it.
Gary: Well you can stop bitching at me. I cleaned the lint trap already.
Harry: Ah horse shit. You did not.
Gary: It just so happens that I did.
Harry: You did not.
Gary: I did.
Harry: There's only one type of person I like less than idiots. And that's liars.
Gary: Who says I'm lying? (Harry looks around the vacant room then returns his gaze to Gary)
Harry: Me. (He points to his chest with a thumb. Gary shrugs.)
Gary: And who are you?
Harry: I'm the old man who lives next door and kills people who don't empty the lint traps.
Gary: No shit?
Harry: No shit.
Gary: That's pretty harsh over a lint trap, don't you think? Harry shakes his head)
Harry: I don't have time to think.
Gary: I'm Gary. (Extends his hand. The old man hesitantly takes it and shakes it)
Harry: Harry. (They stop shaking hands)
Gary: No. Gary. (Shakes his head and goes back to folding clothes) Christ, your hearing must be going too. I'm suprised you can read all these signs at your age.
Harry: My name is Harry. (Gary stops folding and looks up)
Gary: Oh. That's interesting. I thought you misheard me.
Harry: I don't "mishear" things.
Gary: Oh yeah?
Harry: I hear everything. But there is one thing I don't hear. You know what that is? (Doesn't wait for a response) People emptying the lint trap. I never hear people emptying the lint trap. (Gary nods once) Do you know why I never hear people emptying the lint
Gary: Because your old age has caused you to lose your hearing?
Harry: No, damn it, I already told you my hearing is fine. It's because no one ever does it! Not a soul can take it upon themselves to run thier finger along the trap to empty the damn thing.
Gary: No one except you, I gather? (Folds the final pair of jeans and places it in the basket)
Harry: Basicaly, yes.
Gary: Man. That must realy suck. (Kicks the dryer door closed and reaches to grab his basket. The old man blocks the way.)
Harry: Where do you think you're going?
Gary: I'm done, Harry. I'm leaving.
Harry: Are you planning on emptying that lint trap out before you leave?
Gary: Oh God. You're not on that again! Get a life Harry, would you?! For the love of God!
Harry: You must have forgotten my last name, Gary.
Gary: Which is..?
Harry: Oldmanwholivesnextdoorandkillspeoplewhodon'temptythefuckinglinttrap.
Gary: That must be a bitch to spell.
Harry: Are you going to empty the lint trap or not?
Gary: Maybe I already did.
Harry: Horse shit.
Gary: How would you know? Did you check it out?
Harry: I don't need to. I never heard you clean it.
Gary: Look Harry, I hate to be the one to break this to you... But you're old, man. Maybe you didn't hear it.
Harry: I hear everything. You hear me boy?! Everything! There's a scraping sort of sound about it. I didn't hear the scraping sound.
Gary: Then maybe you forgot you heard it. Senility is a sign of age, you know?
Harry: I didn't hear it because you didn't do it.
Gary: I fucking cleaned it!
Harry: That's horse shit.
Gary: Yeah? Prove it. (Steps back. Harry looks at his for a moment before opening the dryer door and loking inside. He finds the lint trap full of lint.)
Harry: You see that!? It's not cleaned. (Gary fiegns astonishment)
Gary: Would you look at that?
Harry: Are you planning on cleaning this before you go?
Gary: You know? I don't even know how to clean one of these.
Harry: It's simple. You just run your finger accross the trap.
Gary: Care to demonstrate?
Harry: Yeah. Sure. Why not? (Harry runs his finger accorss a lint trap, picking up much lint.) You see? It's not so difficult.
Gary: Wow. That is truly is wuite amazing, Harry. Your performance of that task was without flaw.
Harry: Why thank you. But it is a relatively simple task.
Gary: You know, Harry? (Slips past Harry and picks his basket up from the ground, he begins to walk towards the door) You realy did a great job on that lint trap, and I'm realy enjoying our time here... But I have to pick my girl up from work.
Harry: You- (Gary stops and turns)
Gary: Thanks for getting that lint trap. I'll tell you what, Harry. Next time I'm done with my laundry, I'll knock on your door so you can get the lint trap with that expert precision you have.
Harry: But-
Gary: Now, now. I don't want to hear a word about it. It's the least I could do for you. I'll see you later, Harry. (Turns back to face the door.)
Harry: You just wait a second!
Gary: I can't. Like I told you, I have to pick my girlfriend up and from work.
Harry: Why can't you just follow the system?!
Gary: Fuck the system. (Exit Gary.)
Harry: You... (Lets out a deep breath) Ah, horse shit! (Throws ball of lint in his hand to the ground. He then returns to his apartment where his wife has stood statuesque for the duration of the laundry room seen.)
Ester: How did it go, dear?
Harry: Don't "dear" me, Ester. Make me an Oj and Gin, would you?
(Ester sighs and exits into the kitchen.)
Ester (Off screen): You realy shouldn't drink so much, Harry.
Harry: I don't mean to, Ester. I realy don't. But the youth of our society these days... It's enough to make you sick. The world is going down the tubes. Down the tubes, I tell you. (Ester returns, handing a glass of Oj and Gin to Harry.)
Ester: There you are, dear. (Harry downs a third of it in a swallow.)
Harry: I thought we talked about this "dear" thing already.
Ester: Yes dear, I'm sure we did.
Harry: You're still calling me dear!
Ester: Shut yor mouth and drink your Oj and Gin, Harry.
Harry: Yes dear.
-Fade Out-
Ester: Don't call me "dear", Harry.
-END-