Location: Nowhere
Act 2 scene 3
We're still in Lisa's living room. Light can be seen coming in from the window, evidence that it is a new day. Lisa, Heather, Frank, and Gary sit around on various seating arrangements.
Heather: Frank. Did you find out what started that fight with Steve and Squige?
Frank: I don't really know. Squige claims he doesn't remember. And when I called Steve, he told me it was none of my damn business.
Gary: Give me the phone. I'll find out what happened.
Frank: I don't think he'll tell you.
Gary: Why do you say that?
Frank: You're the one who broke the fight up and exiled him from our company.
Gary: I was maintaining the peace.
Frank: Oh yeah. I'm well aware of that. I, and everyone here is well aware of the nobility surrounding your actions. In Steves mind though...
Gary: Yeah. I get your point.
Frank: So it's either Lisa or Heather calling his ass.
Lisa: It ain't me. He and I had a tiff before all that went down.
Frank: What about?
Lisa: Racial slurs.
Frank: And that leaves Heather. (Reaches the cordless phone, which is conveniently located near him, and hands it to Heather. She refuses it.)
Heather: Oh no. I have nothing to say to that dick.
Frank: So whose going to find out? (Lisa lets out a frustrated sigh.)
Lisa: Give it to me. I'll call him. (They hand the phone to her, she dials a number and pits it to her ear.)
Gary: Steve fucking pisses me off.
Frank: I don't let him get to me. He's really little more than a nuisance, when you get right down to it.
Lisa: Steve. It's Lisa. (pause) Are you feeling any better today? (pause) Why? Well, you were pretty hammered when you left here last- (pause) I don't know, I haven't seen Squige yet.
Frank: He looks all right.
Lisa: Frank says he looks okay. What started that anyway? (pause) Frank already asked him, he says he doesn't remember. (pause) Yeah, Go ahead. (Long pause.)
Gary: What's he saying?
Lisa: Shut up, Steve. (pause) No. (pause) Oh. (Holds the phone away from her ear for a while, then hangs up. She drops the phone beside her on the cushion and rises to her feet.)
Gary: What the fuck did he say? (Lisa walks across to Gary, stands before him and slaps him hard across the face.)
Lisa: You fuck. (Turns her back and walks to the door.) I'm taking your car, Gary.
Gary: Your wha- What the fuck did that fuck, Steve, say to you?! (Lisa exits via door. It slams shut behind her.)
Frank: What was that about?
Gary: I have no idea.
Frank: Want me to try and smooth it over for you?
Gary: Yeah. Please do. (Frank gets up and goes out the front door after her.)
Heather: What..? (Gary rubs his face where he was slapped. We hear a car start and depart outside. Gary stands.)
Gary: I gotta... go.
Heather: Go where? Why? What good will it do you?
Gary: I-?
Heather: There's beer here. Drown your sorrows. She'll have to return eventually. It is her house after all.
Gary: Yeah. I guess that's true. (Sits back down.)
Heather: What time is it, anyway? (Gary looks at his watch.)
Gary: Eight.
Heather: I'll be sleeping heavy tonight. (Gary gets up and walks over to the keg. He pumps the keg a few times, then gets a cup and fills it up. Heather yawns and stretches then stands.) In fact I think I'm going to go to sleep now. (She walks to stairs.)
Gary: Night. (Heather goes upstairs. Gary sits back down on the couch. He sits alone in silent misery for a little while. Soon, Mikey comes down the stairs wearily. He reaches the floor and takes one of those extra steps you take when you think another step is on the stair case.)
Mikey: Shit. (Looks back at the steps, then shrugs and walks over to sit near Gary.)
Gary: Morning, Mikey.
Mikey: What up, Gar. Where is everyone?
Gary: Sleeping, I gather.
Mikey: Yeah, but... Lisa, and Frank. Where are they at?
Gary: They left. Steve said something to Lisa on the phone and they skipped out.
Mikey: What he say?
Gary: She wouldn't say.
Mikey: Damn, dude. That really sucks.
Gary: Yeah? Tell me about it.
Mikey: Did you sleep with Heather last night?
Gary: Who... What?! No!
Mikey: Really? Cause you were up there for a while.
Gary: How would you know? You were unconscious.
Mikey: Well, I mean... from what I heard.
Gary: Nothing happened.
Mikey: Does Lisa know that?
Gary: Yeah... Wait... No. I don't know.
Mikey: Cause that would explain a lot.
Gary: Yeah it would.
Mikey: So what did you do up there for all that time?
Gary: Just talked.
Mikey: Yeah! (Laughs a bit.) No. Really, though.
Gary: We talked, man. Really.
Mikey: Why didn't you just stay down here and talk?
Gary: We couldn't hear anything with the music on.
Mikey: Yeah? Excuses are like assholes, everyone has one.
Gary: Well mine's legit. (Drinks from his beer.)
Mikey: What are you drinking?
Gary: Beer. Want one?
Mikey: What the hell are you drinking beer at eight AM for? Are you an alkie?
Gary: No, I-
Mikey: Look at you! The suns barely risen and you're chugging the shit it like it's OJ!
Gary: Fuck you. (Silence.)
Mikey: So what are you going to do about Lisa?
Gary: I don't know. I sent Frank out to smooth it over for me.
Mikey: Oh yeah?
Gary: Yeah. I hope it works.
Mikey: Me too. It would be rough convincing her that you and Heather were just talking.
Gary: It doesn't sound like a secure alibi, does it?
Mikey: Not at all.
Gary: But what can I do?
Mikey: What the hell did you two talk about for so long?
Gary: She... No. I'm not supposed to say anything.
Mikey: What? What is it?
Gary: I told her I wouldn't tell anyone... I can't really say anything.
Mikey: It would really strengthen your defense here.
Gary: Well... She has this crush...
Mikey: Oh yeah?
Gary: Yeah.
Mikey: On who?
Gary: I can't say. (Tommy makes his way down the stairs.)
Mikey: Come on.
Gary: No.
Tommy: What are you guys talking about?
Gary: Nothing. (Tommy sits on the couch.)
Mikey: Gary didn't fuck Heather. They were talking all night.
Tommy: That doesn't sound like a very solid defense, Gary.
Gary: That's what happened!
Mikey: It turns out Heather wants to fuck someone.
Gary: I didn't say that. She has a crush on someone.
Tommy: Really? On who?
Mikey: The dick won't say!
Gary: I promised her I wouldn't tell anyone.
Tommy: Well you can tell us. We don't even count.
Gary: I can't tell a soul. I'm sorry.
Mikey: That's all right, I sold my soul a while back.
Gary: I'm not going to tell you.
Tommy: Why not? That's preposterous!
Mikey: Sinister, even.
Tommy: Unless...
Gary: Unless?
Tommy: Unless you're not saying, because she likes one of us. (Gary laughs for a short moment.)
Mikey: Is that it, Gary?
Tommy: It's me ain't it?
Mikey: What?!
Tommy: It's always me. The chicks love me.
Gary: It's not you.
Mikey: If we guess who it is, will you tell us?
Gary: You won't guess it. (Drinks from his beer.)
Tommy: You're drinking already?
Gary: Yeah. Why?
Tommy: Are you an alcoholic or something?
Gary: No. I just-
Tommy: You just start drinking when the sun comes up?
Gary: I'm strung out, man. That's all.
Mikey: So really, Gar. Who does Heather want a piece of?
Gary: No one. I can't say.
Mikey: Come on!
Gary: I'm sorry guys...
Tommy: Well, let's think about it. Narrow the field, so to speak.
Mikey: Right, right.
Tommy: There's me, you two, Squige, Frank, and Steve. I'm pretty sure we can rule Steve out.
Mikey: True.
Tommy: And there's no way it's Mikey.
Mikey: What?! Why not?!
Tommy: Face it dude, you're ugly.
Mikey: I am not.
Tommy: You are, man. You probably can't tell in all the broken mirrors you look into, but it's an ugly sight.
Mikey: Fuck you, Tommy.
Tommy: It hurts my eyes, just looking at you.
Mikey: Fuck you.
Tommy: Seriously, man. You are so fucking ugly. It's ridiculous. You need to do something about it.
Gary: But what can be done in the condition he's in?
Tommy: True, it is a bit late to fix the problem. A little plastic surgery can't hurt, though.
Mikey: Fuck you both.
Tommy: We can cross Squige off the list too. Heather ain't in to all that drug shit.
Mikey: That's true.
Tommy: Gary. You're already taken. So that leaves me and Frank.
Mikey: And me.
Tommy: Not you mother fucker, I thought we discussed this. You are too damn ugly! No body want a piece of your ugly ass.
Mikey: You're a dick, Tommy.
Tommy: If you say so, fugly. So who is it, Gary? Is it me, or Frank?
Gary: I'm not saying a word.
Tommy: Come on. Which of us is it?
Mikey: It might be someone we don't even know, you know?
Tommy: Do we know this person?
Gary (nodding): Yeah. I think I can say that much.
Tommy: Is it someone in the house right now?
Gary: I don't know. I'm not saying. (silence. Tommy sighs.)
Mikey: Is everyone still sleeping up there?
Tommy: Yeah. Every one but Vicky. She's getting dressed.
Mikey: Dressed?! What'd you guys do up there?
Tommy: Isn't it obvious?
Mikey: Oh. (Sits back.) So you're not just friends anymore?
Tommy: I don't know if I'd say that. But we definitely have a more intimate friendship.
Mikey: Wow.
Tommy: So Gary?
Gary: Huh?
Tommy: It's me isn't it? It's always me. The chicks flock to me. They all want a big juicy Tommy bar inside of them. "It's the chocolate treat that keeps you up all night long." And it only comes in king size.
Gary: It's only for kings? (Vicky begins to descend the stairs.)
Tommy: Fuck you. Who is it?
Gary: I already told you. I am not going to tell you again.
Vicky: Told you what?
Tommy: Heather apparently has a crush on someone. And this dick won't tell us who. Evidently that's what they were talking about in Lisa's room.
Vicky: Oh. So they weren't fucking? (Sits on couch, next to Tommy.)
Tommy: I guess not.
Gary: Of course we weren't! My God, what kind of a prick do you people think I am?! I would never cheat on Lisa, and even if I was the sort of asshole who does that sort of things, why in the hell would I do it in her own fucking house?!
Tommy: Don't you think he should tell us who it is, Vicky?
Vicky: No. Not really. She probably told him in strict confidence. Leaking it to you guys would not exactly be a wise decision.
Gary: Thank you for understanding, Vicky.
Vicky: What are you doing drinking already? Are you an alcoholic now?
Gary: No I just... Lisa left with Frank because I think Steve told her I cheated on her.
Vicky: Steve is a dick.
Gary: Yeah he is. Anyway, I was kind of thirsty too.
Vicky: What time did Lisa say her mom would be home?
Gary: I don't know. I didn't hear.
Tommy: She said it would be something like noon.
Vicky: Oh.
Tommy(Standing): Speaking of home. I was supposed to be back home at two.
Gary: You're about six hours late.
Tommy: Shit. I'm leaving then. You want a ride, Vicky?
Vicky: No. I don't have a curfew.
Tommy: Living on your own must be great.
Vicky: How old are you anyway?
Tommy: Seventeen.
Vicky: Seventeen?! You mean...
Tommy: Yes. What we did last night was illegal.
Vicky: But I thought you were older. I mean... You're in college, right?
Tommy: Yeah. I'm a sophomore. I skipped a few grades in middle school.
Vicky: I can't believe I slept with a minor!
Tommy: Don't worry. I won't be pressing charges.
Gary: Have a seat, Tommy.
Tommy: I really should be on my way.
Gary: You're six hours late. What difference will a few more minutes make?
Tommy: I guess you're right. (Sits back down.) But I have to go soon.
Gary: Are you going to party with us tonight?
Tommy: You're partying tonight too?
Gary: Yeah.
Tommy: Where at?
Gary: I don't know. I just came up with the idea. Give me some time to figure the plan out.
Tommy: All right.
Gary: Behind Rileys pizza.
Tommy: In the parking lot?
Gary: Yeah.
Tommy: What time?
Gary: Do I have to think of everything?
Tommy: It is your idea.
Gary: Eleven.
Tommy: All right. (Stands.) Now that's been established, I am leaving. I'll see you all when I see you.
Gary: Thanks for all your time, Tommy.
Tommy: Yeah sure. Any one need a ride? (Chorus of "no's.) All right then. As long as I'm not grounded, I'll be there tonight.
Mikey: Grounded?!
Tommy: Yeah I was supposed to be home last night.
Mikey: It's all right. I have your excuse. It's fool proof.
Tommy: Oh yeah?
Mikey: Yeah. Your dad doesn't mind you drinking so long as you don't drive under the influence, right?
Tommy: Yeah.
Mikey: Then you can just tell him you stayed here because you didn't want to drive drunk.
Tommy: But I didn't call.
Mikey: Vicky was on the phone with her boyfriend all night.
Vicky: I don't even have a boyfriend. And if you're referring to Tim... We broke up months ago. He's probably hitch hiking to California right now.
Mikey: Tommys old man don't know that. So what he don't know, ought to stay that way.
Tommy: Alright, I'll try it. Hopefully I'll see you all tonight. (Turns and walks to the door, exchanging a long, lingering gaze with Vicky.)
Vicky: You know, Tommy? I think I'll take that ride after all. (Stands and walks to the door where Tommy is.) See you guys (Everyone says "bye". Tommy and Vicky exit via the door.)
Mikey (To Gary): So we're partying behind the pizza shop tonight?
Gary (shrugs): Yeah. Why not? (Heather walks down the stairs, rubbing her eyes.)
Mikey: Good morning, Heather.
Gary: You're up again? I thought you went up there to sleep.
Heather: I did. And I couldn't.
Gary: Oh.
Mikey: Did I ever show you guys the secret government files I accessed on area 51?
Gary: No. I didn't think there was an area 51.
Mikey: Well there's an area 50. And there's an area 52. Common sense dictates...
Gary: I mean the alien shit.
Mikey: Oh. Yeah. It's real. I hacked in and found it. I had to get past four bypass codes. Each password was supposedly twenty symbols, but it only took thirteen to access it. Anything over thirteen characters failed. I wrote the code down somewhere.
Heather: What did the files say? (Mikey leans forward.)
Mikey: If I told you, I'd have to kill you.
Heather: But really. What did it say.
Mikey: I'd like to tell you, Heather, I really would. But it's a matter of national security. Having the knowledge I now possess is an enormous responsibility.
Heather: Oh come on...
Mikey: There is only one thing you can say that will make me change my mind.
Heather: Oh no. I'm not saying it again.
Mikey: You are, I'm afraid.
Heather: I'm so sick of this.
Mikey: Deal with it.
Heather: I'm not saying it.
Mikey: Say it.
Heather: All hail Mikey, king of studs.
Mikey: You damn straight. But where's your enthusiasm. You owe me later. At the party.
Heather: Fuck you.
Mikey: Maybe later, not now. Have some patience, girl. For now though. (Stands) Let's go over to my place and I'll show you the files.
Gary: All right. (Gary and Heather both stand and follow Mikey as he walks to the door.)
Mikey: You're driving, Gary.
Gary: I don't even have my car. Lisa took it.
Mikey: What is it with people taking your car, man? (Heather looks out the window.)
Gary: I don't know. But it's annoying as shit.
Heather: Your car is still here.
Gary: It is? What the hell?
Heather: I don't know. Maybe Frank gave her a ride.
Mikey: So like I said. You're driving.
Gary: Can I? (Exit the three of them, via front door. The living room remains empty for a while. Then, suddenly, Squige descend the stairs and walks directly over to the keg. His face is somewhat red where he was hit, and lightly swollen. He fills up a cup and drinks a bit from it, then looks around.)
Squige: Hello? Where the fuck is everyone? (Looks around, sees no one. Chugs a quarter cup of the beer. He looks at the camera.)
Squige: What? It's still cold. And it's never to early for a nice, cold beer. (Looks around again and sits walks over to sit on the couch. He resumes gazing into the camera.)
Squige: So where did everyone go? They could have told me they were leaving. Bunch of fucks. (Drinks more beer.) They'll taste my revenge when they come back to discover keg empty. (Laughs maliciously. When his laughter finally dies he again drinks from the cup and finishes his beer. He growls as he swallows it and crushes the plastic cup over his head in a terrifying roar. He then walks over to the keg, pumps it a few times and then fills up his cup. His back is to us this whole time. We see him light something in his mouth. He exhales a cloud of smoke and turns around to once again face the camera, a joint hanging from his mouth.)
Squige: I can't believe Steve hit me. Of course he is a stupid, racist mother fucker... So I probably shouldn't have said what I said to him. But he was being a dick... And he didn't have to hit me. (Hits joint) I'll gut that bitch and hang him by his intestines by a spiked rod imbedded into side of a cliff in the desert. (Breathes) That dirty mother fucker. He'll be shitting out teeth the day after the next time I see him. He'll be bussing tables with a limp! Mother fucker. (Hits the joint. Coughs a little, smoke pouring from his lungs. He drinks from his cup quite heavily.)
Squige: I hope Gary don't get into too much trouble about this whole Heather thing. I know what it looked like... But I also know what she told him. She told me all about the infatuation. Crazy scoop. I don't know if it's cool to tell you who it is, but so long as you don't say anything I'll tell you. (Hits joint. Holds in breath and exhales the smoke.) Heather is crushing on- (Front door knob turns and the door opens. Squige looks, stunned, at the door. He tosses the joint in his hand somewhere behind him. Enter Frank.)
Frank: Damn. It reeks of pot in here. (Closes door behind him)
Squige: Oh good. It's just you.
Frank: Yeah? Nice to see you too, buddy. (Looks around.) Where is everybody?
Squige: Fuck if I know. They ditched my ass. (Walks over to the couch and sits down. Frank sniffs the air.)
Frank: Is something burning?
Squige: Yeah. Probably that joint I threw across the room when you walked through the door.
Frank: No. I mean aside from the pot?
Squige: Not that I know of. (We can see smoke puffing up behind Squige somewhere next to the couch.)
Frank: I'm trying to tell you something is burning.
Squige: And I'm trying to tell you that nothing is. (We see a small burst of flames behind Squige.)
Frank: Look behind you. (Points. Squige turns around and has a shocked look on his face. He stands quickly.)
Squige: Shit!
Frank: You're damn right, shit.
Squige: Shit. Get water!
Frank: Right! (Runs into the kitchen.)
Squige: Fuck! (Runs over to the pile and picks up a newspaper that is on fire.) Oh my God, it burns! (He drops the paper and we can see that the fire is spreading. Some of it starts to climb up the wall.)
Squige: Fuck! Frank!! The water! (There is no response. A chair has caught fire.) Frank!! (He runs into the kitchen, we follow. We find Frank impaled, and hanging from the wall on a spike.) Oh God! (Turns to run back to the living room, but when he opens the door to the living room, we can see that it is a blazing inferno. He turns back to face Frank. Franks eyes open, his face bloody and pale.)
Frank: Squige. (Squige stares back at him in shock and horror.)
We cut back to Squige Sitting on the couch, eyes closed. Frank, standing beside him (the arm between them), pushes Squiges shoulder a bit. Squige awakens and looks up at Frank.)
Frank: Squige!
Squige: Wha- (Looks around, blinking)
Frank: You nodded off.
Squige: When?
Frank: Just now. You know, when I was like "SQUIGE!!"
Squige: Oh. Damn.
Frank: I asked you something was burning and you were out like a light. Don't worry though, I went and found what it was. You threw the joint into the chair.
Squige: No shit?
Frank: No shit. You burned a small hole into the cushion, but I just turned it over.
Squige: Cool. Good thinking.
Frank: Yeah, I'm smooth like that sometimes.
Squige: Want some beer?
Frank: No thanks. It's a little early for a beer.
Squige: My friend, there is nothing better than a nicely chilled beer to refresh you in the morning.
Frank: If you say so.
Squige: So... what did you do with that joint when you found it?
Frank: I still have it. Why?
Squige: Because I figured we could smoke it.
Frank: Oh. (Reaches into his pocket.) It's right here. (He withdraws his hand, holding a half smoked joint in his hand. Squige grabs the joint an lights it. He hits is and exhales smoke. He hands it to Frank. Frank hits it and holds hit breath for a while, passing it back to Squige.)
Squige: So you still going to rehab?
Frank: Yeah, kind of. Once I week I go to a meeting. (Exhales. Smoke.)
Squige: They make you piss in cups and shit?
Frank: No. It's voluntary. (Hands joint to Frank.)
Squige: Are you supposed to be smoking this shit?
Frank: That depends on who you talk to. I don't see that it matters. It's just an herb. On the other hand, they would say it's an illegal substance. Therefor it cannot be used. (Hits joint and passes.)
Squige: Yeah. I hear you. At least you're off the hard shit, man. Me though, I don't go past weed and alcohol. And cigarettes... Opium too... And mushrooms. I like the mushrooms... (Drinks a bit of his beer before continuing.) Speed on occasion... And a little coke... Extacy... And acid... I do allot of acid.
Frank: I see. (Squige hits the joint.)
Squige: My point is...
Frank: Oh, you have a point?
Squige: I don't smoke crack, I don't shoot heroin, and I don't snort coke... very often. (Passes joint to Frank.)
Frank: They call it the four S's. Snorting, Smoking, Shooting, and Swallowing.
Squige: Did they come up with one for acid? Cause I can't think of anything... Except maybe sticking... But that just doesn't sound right.
Frank: Not at all. (Hits joint. Hands it back to Squige.)
Squige: It's not really catchy enough.
Frank: Maybe... Nah. I don't know. (Squige hits the joint.)
Squige: Maybe "Shit! I'm tripping my balls off!"
Frank: That could work.
Squige: So, by not covering acid in the S's, they're advising you to do nothing but trip on acid all day?
Frank: They would probably just take the S out of LSD. (momentary silence.)
Squige: So why'd you go into rehab?
Frank: I was doing too many drugs. (Squige hands the joint to Frank.)
Squige: I guess that's a good reason.
Frank: I thought so too.
Squige: Yeah, but... I mean, why? What happened that sent you off the deep end? You were always so together before that. I always thought you had everything under controll.
Frank: It was Michelle.
Squige: That bitch that cheated on you all the time? (Frank hits the joint and passes it back to Squige.)
Frank: Yeah. I ran into her at a punk concert. Real punk, not that pussy shit you hear on the radio all the time with the whiney pop voices.
Squige: Yeah, man. I know the difference between real punk and that poppy rip-off shit.
Frank: So I ran into her again after the punk concert when Rick's van broke down on the side of the highway. And I found out allot of shit about her.
Squige: Like what? (Squige hits the joint and passes it to Frank.)
Frank: Like just how much she lied to me. I found out about allot of other people she slept with. Before then it was just one or two people that I knew of. The thing is, I thought she really loved me. I mean, she told me she did and all. It was just... A really bad scene. (Frank hits the small joint and passes it back to Squige. It has maybe four or five hits left in it.)
Squige: And then what?
Frank: And then I started drinking real heavy again, started doing the bad drugs that I used to do. I got hooked again. My friends convinced me that I needed to get help.
Squige: No shit?
Frank: No shit. (We hear a car pull in the drive.)
Squige: Shit. Check whose here. (Frank goes to the window and looks outside.)
Frank: It's Lisa's mom. (Squige takes the joint over to the ashtray and puts it out. Squige and Frank run frantically around the room. Frank runs into the kitchen. Squige looks toward the kitchen door almost frantically as he recalls a flash of his dream.)
Squige: Man, this is just too fucked up. (Frank returns with two aerosol cans. Squige sighs in relief and catches the can that Frank tossed him. The two unload a furious arsenal of aerosol into the living room atmosphere. We hear a car door close outside. As they work, Frank speaks to Squige.)
Frank: Where did you put the joint?
Squige: This is a very inappropriate time to be hitting a joint, Frank. You really do have problems, don't you?
Frank: Where did you put it?
Squige: In the ash tray. (Frank stops spraying, turns to face Squige.)
Frank: You what?! (Door swing open. In walks Lisa's mom. Squige suddenly stops spraying as well. Both Frank and Squige face the door.)
Lisa's Mom: Hello Frank, Michael.
Squige & Frank: Hi.
Lisa's Mom: Having an aerosol war?
Frank: Yeah...(Looks at the ground.)
Squige: I'm sorry. But Franks ass was really causing some nausea over here. I swear he's shit himself five times now. (They all laugh.)
Lisa's Mom: Well don't waste my aerosol, boys.
Squige: Sorry.
Frank: Sorry Ms. Portier.
Lisa's Mom: If you guys don't mind leaving... I would like to take a shower.
Frank: Oh yeah, sure.
Lisa's Mom: Good. Thank you. (Squige and Frank both look to the ashtray, then to each other. Lisa's Mom begins to ascend the stairs then turns to face the boys.)
Frank: I guess we'll be going now. (Squige nods and rocks on his heels.)
Squige: Yeah. (Lisa's Mom descends the stairs.)
Lisa's Mom: Why don't I show you out? (She leads them to the door, hold it open for them. They exchange their good-byes and leave. Lisa's mom closes the door behind her and locks it. She looks at the camera.)
Lisa's Mom: The party after the party, evidently. And their aerosol fight did nothing to cover the pot. (She walks directly over to wherever the hell the ashtray is and pulls the remainder of the joint Franks and Squige were smoking from the tray. Nearly a quarter of a joint remains.)
Lisa's Mom: Fucking pot heads. (She reaches into her pants pocket and pulls out a roach clip and a lighter. She clips the quarter joint into the clips' grip and lights it.)
Camera fades out.
We're still in Lisa's living room. Light can be seen coming in from the window, evidence that it is a new day. Lisa, Heather, Frank, and Gary sit around on various seating arrangements.
Heather: Frank. Did you find out what started that fight with Steve and Squige?
Frank: I don't really know. Squige claims he doesn't remember. And when I called Steve, he told me it was none of my damn business.
Gary: Give me the phone. I'll find out what happened.
Frank: I don't think he'll tell you.
Gary: Why do you say that?
Frank: You're the one who broke the fight up and exiled him from our company.
Gary: I was maintaining the peace.
Frank: Oh yeah. I'm well aware of that. I, and everyone here is well aware of the nobility surrounding your actions. In Steves mind though...
Gary: Yeah. I get your point.
Frank: So it's either Lisa or Heather calling his ass.
Lisa: It ain't me. He and I had a tiff before all that went down.
Frank: What about?
Lisa: Racial slurs.
Frank: And that leaves Heather. (Reaches the cordless phone, which is conveniently located near him, and hands it to Heather. She refuses it.)
Heather: Oh no. I have nothing to say to that dick.
Frank: So whose going to find out? (Lisa lets out a frustrated sigh.)
Lisa: Give it to me. I'll call him. (They hand the phone to her, she dials a number and pits it to her ear.)
Gary: Steve fucking pisses me off.
Frank: I don't let him get to me. He's really little more than a nuisance, when you get right down to it.
Lisa: Steve. It's Lisa. (pause) Are you feeling any better today? (pause) Why? Well, you were pretty hammered when you left here last- (pause) I don't know, I haven't seen Squige yet.
Frank: He looks all right.
Lisa: Frank says he looks okay. What started that anyway? (pause) Frank already asked him, he says he doesn't remember. (pause) Yeah, Go ahead. (Long pause.)
Gary: What's he saying?
Lisa: Shut up, Steve. (pause) No. (pause) Oh. (Holds the phone away from her ear for a while, then hangs up. She drops the phone beside her on the cushion and rises to her feet.)
Gary: What the fuck did he say? (Lisa walks across to Gary, stands before him and slaps him hard across the face.)
Lisa: You fuck. (Turns her back and walks to the door.) I'm taking your car, Gary.
Gary: Your wha- What the fuck did that fuck, Steve, say to you?! (Lisa exits via door. It slams shut behind her.)
Frank: What was that about?
Gary: I have no idea.
Frank: Want me to try and smooth it over for you?
Gary: Yeah. Please do. (Frank gets up and goes out the front door after her.)
Heather: What..? (Gary rubs his face where he was slapped. We hear a car start and depart outside. Gary stands.)
Gary: I gotta... go.
Heather: Go where? Why? What good will it do you?
Gary: I-?
Heather: There's beer here. Drown your sorrows. She'll have to return eventually. It is her house after all.
Gary: Yeah. I guess that's true. (Sits back down.)
Heather: What time is it, anyway? (Gary looks at his watch.)
Gary: Eight.
Heather: I'll be sleeping heavy tonight. (Gary gets up and walks over to the keg. He pumps the keg a few times, then gets a cup and fills it up. Heather yawns and stretches then stands.) In fact I think I'm going to go to sleep now. (She walks to stairs.)
Gary: Night. (Heather goes upstairs. Gary sits back down on the couch. He sits alone in silent misery for a little while. Soon, Mikey comes down the stairs wearily. He reaches the floor and takes one of those extra steps you take when you think another step is on the stair case.)
Mikey: Shit. (Looks back at the steps, then shrugs and walks over to sit near Gary.)
Gary: Morning, Mikey.
Mikey: What up, Gar. Where is everyone?
Gary: Sleeping, I gather.
Mikey: Yeah, but... Lisa, and Frank. Where are they at?
Gary: They left. Steve said something to Lisa on the phone and they skipped out.
Mikey: What he say?
Gary: She wouldn't say.
Mikey: Damn, dude. That really sucks.
Gary: Yeah? Tell me about it.
Mikey: Did you sleep with Heather last night?
Gary: Who... What?! No!
Mikey: Really? Cause you were up there for a while.
Gary: How would you know? You were unconscious.
Mikey: Well, I mean... from what I heard.
Gary: Nothing happened.
Mikey: Does Lisa know that?
Gary: Yeah... Wait... No. I don't know.
Mikey: Cause that would explain a lot.
Gary: Yeah it would.
Mikey: So what did you do up there for all that time?
Gary: Just talked.
Mikey: Yeah! (Laughs a bit.) No. Really, though.
Gary: We talked, man. Really.
Mikey: Why didn't you just stay down here and talk?
Gary: We couldn't hear anything with the music on.
Mikey: Yeah? Excuses are like assholes, everyone has one.
Gary: Well mine's legit. (Drinks from his beer.)
Mikey: What are you drinking?
Gary: Beer. Want one?
Mikey: What the hell are you drinking beer at eight AM for? Are you an alkie?
Gary: No, I-
Mikey: Look at you! The suns barely risen and you're chugging the shit it like it's OJ!
Gary: Fuck you. (Silence.)
Mikey: So what are you going to do about Lisa?
Gary: I don't know. I sent Frank out to smooth it over for me.
Mikey: Oh yeah?
Gary: Yeah. I hope it works.
Mikey: Me too. It would be rough convincing her that you and Heather were just talking.
Gary: It doesn't sound like a secure alibi, does it?
Mikey: Not at all.
Gary: But what can I do?
Mikey: What the hell did you two talk about for so long?
Gary: She... No. I'm not supposed to say anything.
Mikey: What? What is it?
Gary: I told her I wouldn't tell anyone... I can't really say anything.
Mikey: It would really strengthen your defense here.
Gary: Well... She has this crush...
Mikey: Oh yeah?
Gary: Yeah.
Mikey: On who?
Gary: I can't say. (Tommy makes his way down the stairs.)
Mikey: Come on.
Gary: No.
Tommy: What are you guys talking about?
Gary: Nothing. (Tommy sits on the couch.)
Mikey: Gary didn't fuck Heather. They were talking all night.
Tommy: That doesn't sound like a very solid defense, Gary.
Gary: That's what happened!
Mikey: It turns out Heather wants to fuck someone.
Gary: I didn't say that. She has a crush on someone.
Tommy: Really? On who?
Mikey: The dick won't say!
Gary: I promised her I wouldn't tell anyone.
Tommy: Well you can tell us. We don't even count.
Gary: I can't tell a soul. I'm sorry.
Mikey: That's all right, I sold my soul a while back.
Gary: I'm not going to tell you.
Tommy: Why not? That's preposterous!
Mikey: Sinister, even.
Tommy: Unless...
Gary: Unless?
Tommy: Unless you're not saying, because she likes one of us. (Gary laughs for a short moment.)
Mikey: Is that it, Gary?
Tommy: It's me ain't it?
Mikey: What?!
Tommy: It's always me. The chicks love me.
Gary: It's not you.
Mikey: If we guess who it is, will you tell us?
Gary: You won't guess it. (Drinks from his beer.)
Tommy: You're drinking already?
Gary: Yeah. Why?
Tommy: Are you an alcoholic or something?
Gary: No. I just-
Tommy: You just start drinking when the sun comes up?
Gary: I'm strung out, man. That's all.
Mikey: So really, Gar. Who does Heather want a piece of?
Gary: No one. I can't say.
Mikey: Come on!
Gary: I'm sorry guys...
Tommy: Well, let's think about it. Narrow the field, so to speak.
Mikey: Right, right.
Tommy: There's me, you two, Squige, Frank, and Steve. I'm pretty sure we can rule Steve out.
Mikey: True.
Tommy: And there's no way it's Mikey.
Mikey: What?! Why not?!
Tommy: Face it dude, you're ugly.
Mikey: I am not.
Tommy: You are, man. You probably can't tell in all the broken mirrors you look into, but it's an ugly sight.
Mikey: Fuck you, Tommy.
Tommy: It hurts my eyes, just looking at you.
Mikey: Fuck you.
Tommy: Seriously, man. You are so fucking ugly. It's ridiculous. You need to do something about it.
Gary: But what can be done in the condition he's in?
Tommy: True, it is a bit late to fix the problem. A little plastic surgery can't hurt, though.
Mikey: Fuck you both.
Tommy: We can cross Squige off the list too. Heather ain't in to all that drug shit.
Mikey: That's true.
Tommy: Gary. You're already taken. So that leaves me and Frank.
Mikey: And me.
Tommy: Not you mother fucker, I thought we discussed this. You are too damn ugly! No body want a piece of your ugly ass.
Mikey: You're a dick, Tommy.
Tommy: If you say so, fugly. So who is it, Gary? Is it me, or Frank?
Gary: I'm not saying a word.
Tommy: Come on. Which of us is it?
Mikey: It might be someone we don't even know, you know?
Tommy: Do we know this person?
Gary (nodding): Yeah. I think I can say that much.
Tommy: Is it someone in the house right now?
Gary: I don't know. I'm not saying. (silence. Tommy sighs.)
Mikey: Is everyone still sleeping up there?
Tommy: Yeah. Every one but Vicky. She's getting dressed.
Mikey: Dressed?! What'd you guys do up there?
Tommy: Isn't it obvious?
Mikey: Oh. (Sits back.) So you're not just friends anymore?
Tommy: I don't know if I'd say that. But we definitely have a more intimate friendship.
Mikey: Wow.
Tommy: So Gary?
Gary: Huh?
Tommy: It's me isn't it? It's always me. The chicks flock to me. They all want a big juicy Tommy bar inside of them. "It's the chocolate treat that keeps you up all night long." And it only comes in king size.
Gary: It's only for kings? (Vicky begins to descend the stairs.)
Tommy: Fuck you. Who is it?
Gary: I already told you. I am not going to tell you again.
Vicky: Told you what?
Tommy: Heather apparently has a crush on someone. And this dick won't tell us who. Evidently that's what they were talking about in Lisa's room.
Vicky: Oh. So they weren't fucking? (Sits on couch, next to Tommy.)
Tommy: I guess not.
Gary: Of course we weren't! My God, what kind of a prick do you people think I am?! I would never cheat on Lisa, and even if I was the sort of asshole who does that sort of things, why in the hell would I do it in her own fucking house?!
Tommy: Don't you think he should tell us who it is, Vicky?
Vicky: No. Not really. She probably told him in strict confidence. Leaking it to you guys would not exactly be a wise decision.
Gary: Thank you for understanding, Vicky.
Vicky: What are you doing drinking already? Are you an alcoholic now?
Gary: No I just... Lisa left with Frank because I think Steve told her I cheated on her.
Vicky: Steve is a dick.
Gary: Yeah he is. Anyway, I was kind of thirsty too.
Vicky: What time did Lisa say her mom would be home?
Gary: I don't know. I didn't hear.
Tommy: She said it would be something like noon.
Vicky: Oh.
Tommy(Standing): Speaking of home. I was supposed to be back home at two.
Gary: You're about six hours late.
Tommy: Shit. I'm leaving then. You want a ride, Vicky?
Vicky: No. I don't have a curfew.
Tommy: Living on your own must be great.
Vicky: How old are you anyway?
Tommy: Seventeen.
Vicky: Seventeen?! You mean...
Tommy: Yes. What we did last night was illegal.
Vicky: But I thought you were older. I mean... You're in college, right?
Tommy: Yeah. I'm a sophomore. I skipped a few grades in middle school.
Vicky: I can't believe I slept with a minor!
Tommy: Don't worry. I won't be pressing charges.
Gary: Have a seat, Tommy.
Tommy: I really should be on my way.
Gary: You're six hours late. What difference will a few more minutes make?
Tommy: I guess you're right. (Sits back down.) But I have to go soon.
Gary: Are you going to party with us tonight?
Tommy: You're partying tonight too?
Gary: Yeah.
Tommy: Where at?
Gary: I don't know. I just came up with the idea. Give me some time to figure the plan out.
Tommy: All right.
Gary: Behind Rileys pizza.
Tommy: In the parking lot?
Gary: Yeah.
Tommy: What time?
Gary: Do I have to think of everything?
Tommy: It is your idea.
Gary: Eleven.
Tommy: All right. (Stands.) Now that's been established, I am leaving. I'll see you all when I see you.
Gary: Thanks for all your time, Tommy.
Tommy: Yeah sure. Any one need a ride? (Chorus of "no's.) All right then. As long as I'm not grounded, I'll be there tonight.
Mikey: Grounded?!
Tommy: Yeah I was supposed to be home last night.
Mikey: It's all right. I have your excuse. It's fool proof.
Tommy: Oh yeah?
Mikey: Yeah. Your dad doesn't mind you drinking so long as you don't drive under the influence, right?
Tommy: Yeah.
Mikey: Then you can just tell him you stayed here because you didn't want to drive drunk.
Tommy: But I didn't call.
Mikey: Vicky was on the phone with her boyfriend all night.
Vicky: I don't even have a boyfriend. And if you're referring to Tim... We broke up months ago. He's probably hitch hiking to California right now.
Mikey: Tommys old man don't know that. So what he don't know, ought to stay that way.
Tommy: Alright, I'll try it. Hopefully I'll see you all tonight. (Turns and walks to the door, exchanging a long, lingering gaze with Vicky.)
Vicky: You know, Tommy? I think I'll take that ride after all. (Stands and walks to the door where Tommy is.) See you guys (Everyone says "bye". Tommy and Vicky exit via the door.)
Mikey (To Gary): So we're partying behind the pizza shop tonight?
Gary (shrugs): Yeah. Why not? (Heather walks down the stairs, rubbing her eyes.)
Mikey: Good morning, Heather.
Gary: You're up again? I thought you went up there to sleep.
Heather: I did. And I couldn't.
Gary: Oh.
Mikey: Did I ever show you guys the secret government files I accessed on area 51?
Gary: No. I didn't think there was an area 51.
Mikey: Well there's an area 50. And there's an area 52. Common sense dictates...
Gary: I mean the alien shit.
Mikey: Oh. Yeah. It's real. I hacked in and found it. I had to get past four bypass codes. Each password was supposedly twenty symbols, but it only took thirteen to access it. Anything over thirteen characters failed. I wrote the code down somewhere.
Heather: What did the files say? (Mikey leans forward.)
Mikey: If I told you, I'd have to kill you.
Heather: But really. What did it say.
Mikey: I'd like to tell you, Heather, I really would. But it's a matter of national security. Having the knowledge I now possess is an enormous responsibility.
Heather: Oh come on...
Mikey: There is only one thing you can say that will make me change my mind.
Heather: Oh no. I'm not saying it again.
Mikey: You are, I'm afraid.
Heather: I'm so sick of this.
Mikey: Deal with it.
Heather: I'm not saying it.
Mikey: Say it.
Heather: All hail Mikey, king of studs.
Mikey: You damn straight. But where's your enthusiasm. You owe me later. At the party.
Heather: Fuck you.
Mikey: Maybe later, not now. Have some patience, girl. For now though. (Stands) Let's go over to my place and I'll show you the files.
Gary: All right. (Gary and Heather both stand and follow Mikey as he walks to the door.)
Mikey: You're driving, Gary.
Gary: I don't even have my car. Lisa took it.
Mikey: What is it with people taking your car, man? (Heather looks out the window.)
Gary: I don't know. But it's annoying as shit.
Heather: Your car is still here.
Gary: It is? What the hell?
Heather: I don't know. Maybe Frank gave her a ride.
Mikey: So like I said. You're driving.
Gary: Can I? (Exit the three of them, via front door. The living room remains empty for a while. Then, suddenly, Squige descend the stairs and walks directly over to the keg. His face is somewhat red where he was hit, and lightly swollen. He fills up a cup and drinks a bit from it, then looks around.)
Squige: Hello? Where the fuck is everyone? (Looks around, sees no one. Chugs a quarter cup of the beer. He looks at the camera.)
Squige: What? It's still cold. And it's never to early for a nice, cold beer. (Looks around again and sits walks over to sit on the couch. He resumes gazing into the camera.)
Squige: So where did everyone go? They could have told me they were leaving. Bunch of fucks. (Drinks more beer.) They'll taste my revenge when they come back to discover keg empty. (Laughs maliciously. When his laughter finally dies he again drinks from the cup and finishes his beer. He growls as he swallows it and crushes the plastic cup over his head in a terrifying roar. He then walks over to the keg, pumps it a few times and then fills up his cup. His back is to us this whole time. We see him light something in his mouth. He exhales a cloud of smoke and turns around to once again face the camera, a joint hanging from his mouth.)
Squige: I can't believe Steve hit me. Of course he is a stupid, racist mother fucker... So I probably shouldn't have said what I said to him. But he was being a dick... And he didn't have to hit me. (Hits joint) I'll gut that bitch and hang him by his intestines by a spiked rod imbedded into side of a cliff in the desert. (Breathes) That dirty mother fucker. He'll be shitting out teeth the day after the next time I see him. He'll be bussing tables with a limp! Mother fucker. (Hits the joint. Coughs a little, smoke pouring from his lungs. He drinks from his cup quite heavily.)
Squige: I hope Gary don't get into too much trouble about this whole Heather thing. I know what it looked like... But I also know what she told him. She told me all about the infatuation. Crazy scoop. I don't know if it's cool to tell you who it is, but so long as you don't say anything I'll tell you. (Hits joint. Holds in breath and exhales the smoke.) Heather is crushing on- (Front door knob turns and the door opens. Squige looks, stunned, at the door. He tosses the joint in his hand somewhere behind him. Enter Frank.)
Frank: Damn. It reeks of pot in here. (Closes door behind him)
Squige: Oh good. It's just you.
Frank: Yeah? Nice to see you too, buddy. (Looks around.) Where is everybody?
Squige: Fuck if I know. They ditched my ass. (Walks over to the couch and sits down. Frank sniffs the air.)
Frank: Is something burning?
Squige: Yeah. Probably that joint I threw across the room when you walked through the door.
Frank: No. I mean aside from the pot?
Squige: Not that I know of. (We can see smoke puffing up behind Squige somewhere next to the couch.)
Frank: I'm trying to tell you something is burning.
Squige: And I'm trying to tell you that nothing is. (We see a small burst of flames behind Squige.)
Frank: Look behind you. (Points. Squige turns around and has a shocked look on his face. He stands quickly.)
Squige: Shit!
Frank: You're damn right, shit.
Squige: Shit. Get water!
Frank: Right! (Runs into the kitchen.)
Squige: Fuck! (Runs over to the pile and picks up a newspaper that is on fire.) Oh my God, it burns! (He drops the paper and we can see that the fire is spreading. Some of it starts to climb up the wall.)
Squige: Fuck! Frank!! The water! (There is no response. A chair has caught fire.) Frank!! (He runs into the kitchen, we follow. We find Frank impaled, and hanging from the wall on a spike.) Oh God! (Turns to run back to the living room, but when he opens the door to the living room, we can see that it is a blazing inferno. He turns back to face Frank. Franks eyes open, his face bloody and pale.)
Frank: Squige. (Squige stares back at him in shock and horror.)
We cut back to Squige Sitting on the couch, eyes closed. Frank, standing beside him (the arm between them), pushes Squiges shoulder a bit. Squige awakens and looks up at Frank.)
Frank: Squige!
Squige: Wha- (Looks around, blinking)
Frank: You nodded off.
Squige: When?
Frank: Just now. You know, when I was like "SQUIGE!!"
Squige: Oh. Damn.
Frank: I asked you something was burning and you were out like a light. Don't worry though, I went and found what it was. You threw the joint into the chair.
Squige: No shit?
Frank: No shit. You burned a small hole into the cushion, but I just turned it over.
Squige: Cool. Good thinking.
Frank: Yeah, I'm smooth like that sometimes.
Squige: Want some beer?
Frank: No thanks. It's a little early for a beer.
Squige: My friend, there is nothing better than a nicely chilled beer to refresh you in the morning.
Frank: If you say so.
Squige: So... what did you do with that joint when you found it?
Frank: I still have it. Why?
Squige: Because I figured we could smoke it.
Frank: Oh. (Reaches into his pocket.) It's right here. (He withdraws his hand, holding a half smoked joint in his hand. Squige grabs the joint an lights it. He hits is and exhales smoke. He hands it to Frank. Frank hits it and holds hit breath for a while, passing it back to Squige.)
Squige: So you still going to rehab?
Frank: Yeah, kind of. Once I week I go to a meeting. (Exhales. Smoke.)
Squige: They make you piss in cups and shit?
Frank: No. It's voluntary. (Hands joint to Frank.)
Squige: Are you supposed to be smoking this shit?
Frank: That depends on who you talk to. I don't see that it matters. It's just an herb. On the other hand, they would say it's an illegal substance. Therefor it cannot be used. (Hits joint and passes.)
Squige: Yeah. I hear you. At least you're off the hard shit, man. Me though, I don't go past weed and alcohol. And cigarettes... Opium too... And mushrooms. I like the mushrooms... (Drinks a bit of his beer before continuing.) Speed on occasion... And a little coke... Extacy... And acid... I do allot of acid.
Frank: I see. (Squige hits the joint.)
Squige: My point is...
Frank: Oh, you have a point?
Squige: I don't smoke crack, I don't shoot heroin, and I don't snort coke... very often. (Passes joint to Frank.)
Frank: They call it the four S's. Snorting, Smoking, Shooting, and Swallowing.
Squige: Did they come up with one for acid? Cause I can't think of anything... Except maybe sticking... But that just doesn't sound right.
Frank: Not at all. (Hits joint. Hands it back to Squige.)
Squige: It's not really catchy enough.
Frank: Maybe... Nah. I don't know. (Squige hits the joint.)
Squige: Maybe "Shit! I'm tripping my balls off!"
Frank: That could work.
Squige: So, by not covering acid in the S's, they're advising you to do nothing but trip on acid all day?
Frank: They would probably just take the S out of LSD. (momentary silence.)
Squige: So why'd you go into rehab?
Frank: I was doing too many drugs. (Squige hands the joint to Frank.)
Squige: I guess that's a good reason.
Frank: I thought so too.
Squige: Yeah, but... I mean, why? What happened that sent you off the deep end? You were always so together before that. I always thought you had everything under controll.
Frank: It was Michelle.
Squige: That bitch that cheated on you all the time? (Frank hits the joint and passes it back to Squige.)
Frank: Yeah. I ran into her at a punk concert. Real punk, not that pussy shit you hear on the radio all the time with the whiney pop voices.
Squige: Yeah, man. I know the difference between real punk and that poppy rip-off shit.
Frank: So I ran into her again after the punk concert when Rick's van broke down on the side of the highway. And I found out allot of shit about her.
Squige: Like what? (Squige hits the joint and passes it to Frank.)
Frank: Like just how much she lied to me. I found out about allot of other people she slept with. Before then it was just one or two people that I knew of. The thing is, I thought she really loved me. I mean, she told me she did and all. It was just... A really bad scene. (Frank hits the small joint and passes it back to Squige. It has maybe four or five hits left in it.)
Squige: And then what?
Frank: And then I started drinking real heavy again, started doing the bad drugs that I used to do. I got hooked again. My friends convinced me that I needed to get help.
Squige: No shit?
Frank: No shit. (We hear a car pull in the drive.)
Squige: Shit. Check whose here. (Frank goes to the window and looks outside.)
Frank: It's Lisa's mom. (Squige takes the joint over to the ashtray and puts it out. Squige and Frank run frantically around the room. Frank runs into the kitchen. Squige looks toward the kitchen door almost frantically as he recalls a flash of his dream.)
Squige: Man, this is just too fucked up. (Frank returns with two aerosol cans. Squige sighs in relief and catches the can that Frank tossed him. The two unload a furious arsenal of aerosol into the living room atmosphere. We hear a car door close outside. As they work, Frank speaks to Squige.)
Frank: Where did you put the joint?
Squige: This is a very inappropriate time to be hitting a joint, Frank. You really do have problems, don't you?
Frank: Where did you put it?
Squige: In the ash tray. (Frank stops spraying, turns to face Squige.)
Frank: You what?! (Door swing open. In walks Lisa's mom. Squige suddenly stops spraying as well. Both Frank and Squige face the door.)
Lisa's Mom: Hello Frank, Michael.
Squige & Frank: Hi.
Lisa's Mom: Having an aerosol war?
Frank: Yeah...(Looks at the ground.)
Squige: I'm sorry. But Franks ass was really causing some nausea over here. I swear he's shit himself five times now. (They all laugh.)
Lisa's Mom: Well don't waste my aerosol, boys.
Squige: Sorry.
Frank: Sorry Ms. Portier.
Lisa's Mom: If you guys don't mind leaving... I would like to take a shower.
Frank: Oh yeah, sure.
Lisa's Mom: Good. Thank you. (Squige and Frank both look to the ashtray, then to each other. Lisa's Mom begins to ascend the stairs then turns to face the boys.)
Frank: I guess we'll be going now. (Squige nods and rocks on his heels.)
Squige: Yeah. (Lisa's Mom descends the stairs.)
Lisa's Mom: Why don't I show you out? (She leads them to the door, hold it open for them. They exchange their good-byes and leave. Lisa's mom closes the door behind her and locks it. She looks at the camera.)
Lisa's Mom: The party after the party, evidently. And their aerosol fight did nothing to cover the pot. (She walks directly over to wherever the hell the ashtray is and pulls the remainder of the joint Franks and Squige were smoking from the tray. Nearly a quarter of a joint remains.)
Lisa's Mom: Fucking pot heads. (She reaches into her pants pocket and pulls out a roach clip and a lighter. She clips the quarter joint into the clips' grip and lights it.)
Camera fades out.