Highway Star
Act 2 Scene 1
Tim and Phill sit in the back of a refrigerated semi. They sit on crates. They are huddled up in towels and blankets and several articles of clothing. Still they shiver. Throughout this scene, their breath is seen. Tim smokes a joint.
Phill:
It's fucking freezing back here. I can't believe you hitched us a ride off of a trucker with no room up front and a freezer in the back.
Tim:
How the hell was I supposed to know it was refrigerated?!
Phill:
The side of the truck said "Eddys Ice Cream". What did you expect?
Tim:
It's a ride, isn't it?!
Phill:
A ride on ice. Here. (Holds out his hand.) Hand me that jay. Maybe that'll warm me up.
Tim:
Here. (Hands Phill the joint.) Why don't you bust out the Jack? That'll fucking keep us warm.
Phill:
It's fucking cold back here. (Hits the joint. Pulls out a bottle of Jack Daniels and opens it. He takes a swig and passes hands it to Tim, along with the joint.) Before we got this ride I had to piss. Now it's frozen. (They laugh for a moment. They laugh that cold kind of laugh that happens when you're freezing, and your chest feels colder just for moving.)
Tim:
You know what my least favorite part of this trip has been? (Drinks from the JD.)
Phill:
What's that? (Tim hits the joint and passes it back to Phill)
Tim:
Your constant complaining.
Phill:
Perhaps you should not give me so many reasons to complain.
Tim:
You don't even need a reason to start bitching.
Phill:
It's not like you've been the perfect traveling companion! You threw in front of a speeding vehicle in order to get us a ride and exit up which we could have walked to. You cranked the heat up to the point that only my sweat kept me cool. You stole about ten towels so far. You stole money from the poor.
Tim:
You see? There you go again. You're always bitching about something.
(Drinks from the Jack and hands it back to Phill.)
So that's the last of the good liquor? (Phill hits the joint and hands it back to Tim.)
Phill:
Until we're financially set, yes. Don't worry though, we still have a bottle of BV, and the rest of this Jack.
Tim:
And we still have a good quarter ounce of this shit. (Attempts to hit the joint only to find it has gone out.) It's out. (Tosses the roach into his mouth and swallows it.)
Phill:
It's freezing back here.
Tim:
You know what I miss about Blossumdale?
Phill:
What's that?
Tim: Absolutely nothing.
Phill:
Nothing at all?
Tim:
Not a thing.
Phill:
What about your family?
Tim:
My family is so fucked up it's sickening.
Phill:
Not even your friends?
Tim:
Most of my friends I met trough Vicky. They're cool and all, but they're probably just hanging out behind Rileys Pizza. That's all they really do. I don't exactly feel as though I'm missing out on much, you know?
Phill:
I think I miss my bed most of all. And my old heater. And Tanya.
Tim:
Tanya?! She ain't even yours man! She's still Micks'.
Phill:
Fuck that. The two of them are always fighting. Relationships like that can't last long.
Tim:
All I'm going to say is Deb and Bill.
Phill:
All right. Deb and Bill are still together even thought hey fight all the time. But humor me here. I still have a chance.
Tim:
I don't know. Mick is a bit of a stud.
Phill:
Can we be serious for a moment?!
Tim:
Right. Sorry. Go on.
Phill:
All I'm saying is that when they break up-
Tim:
If they break up.
Phill:
Whatever. When and if they break up, and I have a feeling they will, I'm going to jump in.
Tim:
Are you?
Phill:
You're damn right I am.
Tim:
Well, you can't just hop in right away. You've gotta give her time to cool off, you know? Let her get over the man. At the same time though, you can't wait too long, or else someone else will take your game. Then you'll be locking the door to your room and playing with yourself for hours on end. Then you'd have to apply extra-
Phill:
For the love of God, Tim!
Tim:
Sorry, man. This is some heavy shit for me when I'm stoned. You really should have checked your audience before you decided to have a serious moment.
Phill:
Yeah, really. I don't know what the hell I was thinking.
Tim:
Me either.
Phill:
Tell me then, Tim. What are you capable of logically discussing?
Tim: Huh?
Phill:
I guess that answers that. (Brief silence. Tim stands up and looks around them.)
Tim:
What kind of ice-cream do you think are in these boxes?
Phill: I don't know. Does it say on the boxes?
Tim:
No.
Phill:
I don't know then. Probably vanilla or some shit. Why? (Tim rubs his stomach.)
Tim:
Cause I am hungry as fuck. (He opens a box up.) Mmm... Strawberry. (Picks up a strawberry pint of ice-cream.)
Phill:
Tim, don't eat that.
Tim:
Why the hell not?
Phill: Two reasons. One: Because it's freezing back here. Ice cream is not going to help the temperature.
Tim:
And reason number two?
Phill: This guy is nice enough to give us a ride-
Tim:
In a freezer.
Phill:
He gave us blankets. And anyway, a ride is a ride is a ride. We're getting there quicker than we would have by walking.
Tim:
Perhaps I'm ignorant then. I don't find anything to appreciate about getting there by freezing my balls off. Before I got in back here, I had some ball sweat. Now I have ball sweat sickles. If this trucker can throw us back here in the hopes that we die of pneumonia and God knows what else, then I can eat some of his ice cream. (Opens the box.) Besides, I have the munchies.
Phill:
It feels like the truck is stopping. (Tim is dipping his finger into the ice cream, he eats a bit which clings to his finger tips.)
Tim:
He can claim this shit fell off the truck anyway.
Phill:
You're moralless, Tim. Do you know that? You have absolutely no morals.
Tim:
What other flavors do you think he has back here? (He opens another packaging box to see what kind of ice cream is within.) Vanilla. (He almost falls forward as the truck begins to move again.)
Phill:
Good. It's moving again.
Tim:
Who actually eats vanilla anyway?
Phill:
I don't know. But it's better than chocolate. (Tim opens another box.)
Tim:
Speaking of chocolate. Here's a box.
Phill:
That's great. Would you stop snooping around already? (Tim looks in another box.)
Tim:
More vanilla. (Tim has made his way back to a far corner of the room, opening another box. He stares, gawking at the contents of the box.)
Phill:
Are you closing them back up, or just leaving them all open? (Tim is able to speak at long last.)
Tim:
Woh.
Phill:
What? New flavor?
Tim: You could say that.
Phill
: What is it?
Tim:
Cocaine.
Phill:
That's weird. I didn't think Eddy's would make cocaine flavored ice cream.
Tim:
I never said anything about ice cream. This is a box of cocaine.
Phill:
No fucking way. (Gets up and walks over to stand beside Tim, gaping into the box.)
Tim:
You know what I'm thinking, Phill?
Phill: No way. Absolutely not.
Tim:
But-
Phill:
You are not stealing and distributing a highly addictive and potentially fatal narcotic just to make a little cash.
Tim:
We're not looking at a little cash here, Phill. (They stumble toward the front as the truck comes to a stop.)
Phill:
Shit. The truck just stopped again.
Tim:
It's not like we don't need the money.
Phill:
Close the box up, Tim. The trucker is on his way back here. (Tim closes the box back up and the two of them go back to sitting where they were previously. They each swig from the JD once before the door slides open. Daylight pours in on them from outside. The trucker stands there. Tim holds the ice cream he was eating, Phill holds the Jack Daniels.)
Trucker:
You boys weren't too cold back here, were you?
Tim:
A little bit. I need to wash my hands though. You could have given us spoons.
Phill:
I'm sorry. I told him not to eat any of the ice cream...
Trucker:
'S all right. It smells like y'all had a case of the munchies. I'll just say it fell off the truck anyway. (Phill has an embarrassed smile on his face.) Phill: Well... Here's our payment to you. (Hands the trucker the remains of the bottle of JD.)
Tim:
What the hell are you doing?
Trucker:
You boys don't have to-
Phill:
We insist.
Tim:
We do? (Phill elbows him in the ribs.)
Trucker:
Well, all right then. (Examines the bottle.)
Phill:
Where are we now?
Trucker:
Your in Nebraska.
Phill:
Half way there, then. Thank you for the ride. (Tim and Phill begin to walk away, exchanging waves of goodbye with the trucker. Tim punches Phill on his arm.)
Phill:
Ow!! What the hell was that for?
Tim:
You gave away our Jack D! (We stay with the trucker, who gets into the back and walks directly over to the box containing the coke. He opens it and looks inside.)
Trucker:
Good. Those little shady shits didn't touch any of this shit. (He pulls out a hand mirror and a razor and begins to cut a line off of a pinch of the cocaine. He pulls a straw from his pocket and snorts up a line or two as we zoom in on his reddening nostrils until only the blackness of his nasal passage can be seen.)
End scene
Tim and Phill sit in the back of a refrigerated semi. They sit on crates. They are huddled up in towels and blankets and several articles of clothing. Still they shiver. Throughout this scene, their breath is seen. Tim smokes a joint.
Phill:
It's fucking freezing back here. I can't believe you hitched us a ride off of a trucker with no room up front and a freezer in the back.
Tim:
How the hell was I supposed to know it was refrigerated?!
Phill:
The side of the truck said "Eddys Ice Cream". What did you expect?
Tim:
It's a ride, isn't it?!
Phill:
A ride on ice. Here. (Holds out his hand.) Hand me that jay. Maybe that'll warm me up.
Tim:
Here. (Hands Phill the joint.) Why don't you bust out the Jack? That'll fucking keep us warm.
Phill:
It's fucking cold back here. (Hits the joint. Pulls out a bottle of Jack Daniels and opens it. He takes a swig and passes hands it to Tim, along with the joint.) Before we got this ride I had to piss. Now it's frozen. (They laugh for a moment. They laugh that cold kind of laugh that happens when you're freezing, and your chest feels colder just for moving.)
Tim:
You know what my least favorite part of this trip has been? (Drinks from the JD.)
Phill:
What's that? (Tim hits the joint and passes it back to Phill)
Tim:
Your constant complaining.
Phill:
Perhaps you should not give me so many reasons to complain.
Tim:
You don't even need a reason to start bitching.
Phill:
It's not like you've been the perfect traveling companion! You threw in front of a speeding vehicle in order to get us a ride and exit up which we could have walked to. You cranked the heat up to the point that only my sweat kept me cool. You stole about ten towels so far. You stole money from the poor.
Tim:
You see? There you go again. You're always bitching about something.
(Drinks from the Jack and hands it back to Phill.)
So that's the last of the good liquor? (Phill hits the joint and hands it back to Tim.)
Phill:
Until we're financially set, yes. Don't worry though, we still have a bottle of BV, and the rest of this Jack.
Tim:
And we still have a good quarter ounce of this shit. (Attempts to hit the joint only to find it has gone out.) It's out. (Tosses the roach into his mouth and swallows it.)
Phill:
It's freezing back here.
Tim:
You know what I miss about Blossumdale?
Phill:
What's that?
Tim: Absolutely nothing.
Phill:
Nothing at all?
Tim:
Not a thing.
Phill:
What about your family?
Tim:
My family is so fucked up it's sickening.
Phill:
Not even your friends?
Tim:
Most of my friends I met trough Vicky. They're cool and all, but they're probably just hanging out behind Rileys Pizza. That's all they really do. I don't exactly feel as though I'm missing out on much, you know?
Phill:
I think I miss my bed most of all. And my old heater. And Tanya.
Tim:
Tanya?! She ain't even yours man! She's still Micks'.
Phill:
Fuck that. The two of them are always fighting. Relationships like that can't last long.
Tim:
All I'm going to say is Deb and Bill.
Phill:
All right. Deb and Bill are still together even thought hey fight all the time. But humor me here. I still have a chance.
Tim:
I don't know. Mick is a bit of a stud.
Phill:
Can we be serious for a moment?!
Tim:
Right. Sorry. Go on.
Phill:
All I'm saying is that when they break up-
Tim:
If they break up.
Phill:
Whatever. When and if they break up, and I have a feeling they will, I'm going to jump in.
Tim:
Are you?
Phill:
You're damn right I am.
Tim:
Well, you can't just hop in right away. You've gotta give her time to cool off, you know? Let her get over the man. At the same time though, you can't wait too long, or else someone else will take your game. Then you'll be locking the door to your room and playing with yourself for hours on end. Then you'd have to apply extra-
Phill:
For the love of God, Tim!
Tim:
Sorry, man. This is some heavy shit for me when I'm stoned. You really should have checked your audience before you decided to have a serious moment.
Phill:
Yeah, really. I don't know what the hell I was thinking.
Tim:
Me either.
Phill:
Tell me then, Tim. What are you capable of logically discussing?
Tim: Huh?
Phill:
I guess that answers that. (Brief silence. Tim stands up and looks around them.)
Tim:
What kind of ice-cream do you think are in these boxes?
Phill: I don't know. Does it say on the boxes?
Tim:
No.
Phill:
I don't know then. Probably vanilla or some shit. Why? (Tim rubs his stomach.)
Tim:
Cause I am hungry as fuck. (He opens a box up.) Mmm... Strawberry. (Picks up a strawberry pint of ice-cream.)
Phill:
Tim, don't eat that.
Tim:
Why the hell not?
Phill: Two reasons. One: Because it's freezing back here. Ice cream is not going to help the temperature.
Tim:
And reason number two?
Phill: This guy is nice enough to give us a ride-
Tim:
In a freezer.
Phill:
He gave us blankets. And anyway, a ride is a ride is a ride. We're getting there quicker than we would have by walking.
Tim:
Perhaps I'm ignorant then. I don't find anything to appreciate about getting there by freezing my balls off. Before I got in back here, I had some ball sweat. Now I have ball sweat sickles. If this trucker can throw us back here in the hopes that we die of pneumonia and God knows what else, then I can eat some of his ice cream. (Opens the box.) Besides, I have the munchies.
Phill:
It feels like the truck is stopping. (Tim is dipping his finger into the ice cream, he eats a bit which clings to his finger tips.)
Tim:
He can claim this shit fell off the truck anyway.
Phill:
You're moralless, Tim. Do you know that? You have absolutely no morals.
Tim:
What other flavors do you think he has back here? (He opens another packaging box to see what kind of ice cream is within.) Vanilla. (He almost falls forward as the truck begins to move again.)
Phill:
Good. It's moving again.
Tim:
Who actually eats vanilla anyway?
Phill:
I don't know. But it's better than chocolate. (Tim opens another box.)
Tim:
Speaking of chocolate. Here's a box.
Phill:
That's great. Would you stop snooping around already? (Tim looks in another box.)
Tim:
More vanilla. (Tim has made his way back to a far corner of the room, opening another box. He stares, gawking at the contents of the box.)
Phill:
Are you closing them back up, or just leaving them all open? (Tim is able to speak at long last.)
Tim:
Woh.
Phill:
What? New flavor?
Tim: You could say that.
Phill
: What is it?
Tim:
Cocaine.
Phill:
That's weird. I didn't think Eddy's would make cocaine flavored ice cream.
Tim:
I never said anything about ice cream. This is a box of cocaine.
Phill:
No fucking way. (Gets up and walks over to stand beside Tim, gaping into the box.)
Tim:
You know what I'm thinking, Phill?
Phill: No way. Absolutely not.
Tim:
But-
Phill:
You are not stealing and distributing a highly addictive and potentially fatal narcotic just to make a little cash.
Tim:
We're not looking at a little cash here, Phill. (They stumble toward the front as the truck comes to a stop.)
Phill:
Shit. The truck just stopped again.
Tim:
It's not like we don't need the money.
Phill:
Close the box up, Tim. The trucker is on his way back here. (Tim closes the box back up and the two of them go back to sitting where they were previously. They each swig from the JD once before the door slides open. Daylight pours in on them from outside. The trucker stands there. Tim holds the ice cream he was eating, Phill holds the Jack Daniels.)
Trucker:
You boys weren't too cold back here, were you?
Tim:
A little bit. I need to wash my hands though. You could have given us spoons.
Phill:
I'm sorry. I told him not to eat any of the ice cream...
Trucker:
'S all right. It smells like y'all had a case of the munchies. I'll just say it fell off the truck anyway. (Phill has an embarrassed smile on his face.) Phill: Well... Here's our payment to you. (Hands the trucker the remains of the bottle of JD.)
Tim:
What the hell are you doing?
Trucker:
You boys don't have to-
Phill:
We insist.
Tim:
We do? (Phill elbows him in the ribs.)
Trucker:
Well, all right then. (Examines the bottle.)
Phill:
Where are we now?
Trucker:
Your in Nebraska.
Phill:
Half way there, then. Thank you for the ride. (Tim and Phill begin to walk away, exchanging waves of goodbye with the trucker. Tim punches Phill on his arm.)
Phill:
Ow!! What the hell was that for?
Tim:
You gave away our Jack D! (We stay with the trucker, who gets into the back and walks directly over to the box containing the coke. He opens it and looks inside.)
Trucker:
Good. Those little shady shits didn't touch any of this shit. (He pulls out a hand mirror and a razor and begins to cut a line off of a pinch of the cocaine. He pulls a straw from his pocket and snorts up a line or two as we zoom in on his reddening nostrils until only the blackness of his nasal passage can be seen.)
End scene