The Weekenders

April 27, 2009 at 9:26 am (Random Writings) (, )

The Weekenders is a one act I wrote a few years back after being prompted by a colleague to generate some content that he could make some short films out of.  While any project resulting from that summer has yet to become anything more than scripts, they stand alone as interesting snippets of my writing as it progesses.  In this particular script, I was able to write through some troubles I had actually been having, though not to the extent written here.  I left this script mostly unaltered save for a few minor corrections of spelling and grammar here and there.  Enjoy.

 

The Weekenders

Written by Chris Pranger

 

Act 1: Scene 1

 

Setting:  Dark room, very cluttered, light can hardly be seen through cracks between black sheets hanging over a window.  An alarm clock is going off.

 

Andrew:  (Reaches over and turns off the clock, goes back to sleep).  Nope, not workin’.  Try again in an hour Father Time.  (Alarm goes off again; Andrew rolls back over and turns it off again).  I pressed snooze.  What the hell type of snooze do you have in time land?  (Alarm goes off, Andrew rolls over, it turns off.  Andrew stares at it, then rolls back over, to which it alarms again.  Andrew rolls back over to which it responds by shutting off.  Andrew reaches down and unplugs it).  Hah, can’t beat me at this game.  You lose clock man.  Time for sleep.  (Alarm goes off again.  Andrew rolls over and stares at it, it keeps going off).  Damn, you win again, you cocky sonabitch.  (Gets out of bed and looks at his wristwatch, which he’s left on all night).  Hmm, noon ain’t a bad time at all.  Now what day is today?  Let’s see, few days ago it was Tuesday, pretty sure Wednesday came after that.  That would make today…  (Counts on his fingers).  Damn.  Today must be Saturday.

 

Act 1: Scene 2

 

(Walks out of his room wearing little more than shorts and some socks.  He walks himself into a living room where his mother, father, and younger sister are all scurrying around and packing).  I have awoken.  (No response).  And before 2 P.M. this time.  I deserve praise.  (Nothing).  Dammit I’m great.  (Struts his way around the living room, finally falling down onto the couch and promptly going back into slumber land).

 

Mother:  Andrew, get yourself up this instant!  It’s past noon!

 

Andrew:  (Quickly gets back up).  Yes, and I am awake as you can clearly see, thus making me great.  What’s on the agenda for this fine spectacular day?  (Mother clearly ignoring him as she goes about her business of packing sandwiches into a cooler).  Hey mom, talkin’ to you.  (Turns to father).  Ay dad, day plans?

 

Father:  Ask your mother.

 

Andrew:  (Turns to his sister).  Sis, what’s going on?

 

Sister:  Softball tournament, again.

 

Andrew:  All weekend?

 

Sis:  All weekend.

 

Andrew:  Softball is not a sport; it is an excuse for parents to force their children to succeed where they themselves have failed.  (Stands proud.  No response from mother or father).

 

Sister:  Yeah okay.  (Goes back to helping her mother pack).

 

Andrew:  I propose a new strategy for this weekend; let us all venture to a far-off land full of excitement and mystery.  I suggest Disneyland.

 

Father:  If you’ve got a job and you’re paying then we’ll discuss it.

 

Andrew:  I’d intend on asking for an interview as a costumed performer while down there.  I could be a great Micky.  (Dances around as if he’s a costumed mouse.  Goes into a high squeaky voice).  Hey kids, it’s me, that mouse you all like!  I love to dance and sing!  Micheal Eisner makes me perform questionable acts on him daily!

 

Sister:  That is so wrong.

 

Andrew:  (Stops dancing).  I agree, but the truth is not always a pleasant one.  Shall I pack my bags for the magical kingdom?

 

Mother:  We’re leaving for Newberg in five minutes, are you coming?

 

Andrew:  Absolutely not.  I’d rather drown myself in a frozen lake than spend all weekend watching people play softball.

 

Father:  Well, if you need to reach us the numbers of our cell phones are on the fridge, as usual.

 

Andrew:  And so as usual I bid you all farewell.  Now if you’ll excuse me I’m going to go get naked and splash water on myself.

 

Act 1: Scene 3

 

(Walks out of the room and to the bathroom.  He slams the room).

 

Mother:  (As she’s walking out the door).  We’re leaving!

Andrew:  (From in the bathroom).  I’m naked!  (Scene shifts to inside the bathroom where Andrew has a boom box set up in the corner.  He now has a towel around his waist as he’s turning the water on for a shower).  Now this simply won’t do; music is needed to fill this void.  (Walks over to the boom box and turns it on.  Andrew starts dancing to it).  There we go, the world is balanced again.  (Goes behind the curtains and starts singing to the music.  Suddenly the song begins to skip.  Andrew’s head pops out from around the curtain all wet).  Ah, don’t go all Milli N’ Vanilli on me now.  (Grabs the towel and wraps it around his waist and hops out of the shower and over to the boom box.  He fixes it and goes back to his shower.  Soon it starts skipping again).  So my old friend, it would appear that you’re in league with the alarm clock, eh?  (Walks over and fixes it again.  Soon it begins skipping again.  Andrew gets out of the shower once more, now with shampoo dripping from his hair).  This just won’t stand.  I’ll just have to beat-box this shower then.  (Tries to turn the boom box off and it zaps him).  Bah, the hell?!  (Zaps him once more).  So that’s the way you want to play it, you little bastard?!  (Pulls off his towel, revealing swimming trunks, and proceeds to whip the boom box with his towel.  Camera shows the door of the bathroom from the outside.  A loud zap can be heard followed by Andrew’s screaming).

Act 2: Scene 1

Setting:  Andrew is now fully dressed and sitting in the living room on the couch again.  He is wearing jeans and a plain shirt.

Andrew:  This is boring.  I need something to spice this up.  (Scene cuts and Andrew is once more sitting on the couch, now he is wearing a Hawaiian shirt.  States very sarcastically).  This is much better.  I can already feel the excitement of the weekend flowing through me.  (Looks around).  I need something to do.  No, not something to do, someone to talk to.  Yeah, that’s it.  But who?  (Gets up and starts thinking to himself and pacing back and forth).  A best friend of course.  But what shall this best friend look like?  He’ll have blonde, no, brown hair.  I hate blonde guys; they’re always such assholes.  He shall be about…(Measures with his hand).  My height.  Yes, that’s perfect.  And he must be British.  It’s decided, my best friend is a Brit.  (Frantically looking around the house).  From where shall he enter…?  Door!  No, too practical.  Window!  No, too impractical.  I’ve got it!  He shall come from the pantry!  Come forth…um…name.  Damn I need a name.  Um, um, um…Nathaniel!  Come forth Nathan!  (The doorbell rings).  Aha!  He’s here!  (Opens the pantry door, it is empty in there).  Now where the hell is he?  (Doorbell rings again.  Andrew wonders over to the door with a puzzled look and opens it.  A man with blonde hair comes through it).

Nathaniel:  Evenin’ old chap.  Sorry, I’m a tad bit late as it would seem.

Andrew:  You were supposed to come from the pantry.  And I distinctly remember saying that I wanted brown hair, not blonde.

Nathaniel:  Many apologies Gov; have it out with my mum about that one.

Andrew:  No no, it’s alright.  I’ll let it slide for the time being.  Come in, have a seat.

Nathaniel:  So Gov, what’s on the plate this evenin’?

Andrew:  Damn, hadn’t thought it through quite yet.

Nathaniel:  (Sits down on the couch and kicks his heels up).  Watching the telly then?

Andrew:  No, I always do that during weekdays and this is clearly a weekend, when nothing is on worth watching.

Nathaniel:  So wot’s we gonna do then?

Andrew:  We are gonna…  (Thinks to himself).  Give me a minute wouldja?

Nathaniel:  No rush Gov, ‘ave at it.

Andrew:  Well, my parents are out of town for the weekend, we could get wasted?

Nathaniel:  Ye know I don’ drink.  Bad for me ‘ealth.

Andrew:  Yeah I know; I don’t drink either.

Nathaniel:  So why’s the family out for the weekend.  Softball?

Andrew:  Softball.  Where else would they be?

Nathaniel:  It’s a cryin’ shame it is.

Andrew:  Thank you for agreeing.  Softball isn’t even a sport after all!  It’s hardly even a means to pass the time!

Nathaniel:  Well I wouldn’t go as far as to say it’s useless.  It passes loads of time.

Andrew:  (Angrily gets up from the couch and begins fuming).  Oh, I see, we have another traitor amongst our ranks!

Nathaniel:  Wot traitor?  Oo’s ranks?

Andrew:  You wanna play it like that?!  I’ll be damned if I’ll be swayed to enjoy softball!

Nathaniel:  Oo’s sayin’ you’ve gots ta like softball?

Andrew:  I’d rather…um…

Nathaniel:  The thing with the frozen lake?

Andrew:  Exactly!  Never, ever in my lifetime will I ever play that accursed “game”!  (Crosses his arms and stands still, fidgeting slightly).  Dammit now I wanna play it.  C’mon, into the backyard.  (Storms off).

Nathaniel:  Oh.  Well alright them.  (Confusedly stands up and follows Andrew).

Act 2: Scene 2

Andrew:  (He has lead Nathaniel to the backyard and is holding a softball.  A bat is sitting at Nathaniel’s feet).  C’mon, pick up the bat.

Nathaniel:  But I don’t want to.

Andrew:  Nonsense, we’ll prove you right in saying that softball can burn through some time.  Now pick up the bat.

Nathaniel:  Ah right.  (Picks it up and lets it hang).  Now wot?

Andrew:  I’m gonna pitch this softball at you, and you hit it.

Nathaniel:  Why?

Andrew:  Because, it’s supposed to be fun.  Don’t you Brits have bat-related games over there in Brit land?

Nathaniel:  First off, it’s Great Britain, not “Brit land”.  Secondly, yes, we ‘ave a fabulous game called cricket.

Andrew:  How’s that one played?

Nathaniel:  I ‘ave no Godly idea.

Andrew:  Whatever, he comes the ball.  (Tosses the softball.  It goes right past Nathaniel, who doesn’t even attempt to hit it).  What the hell was that?  Swing the bat!

Nathaniel:  Oh.  Right gov.

Andrew:  Throw the ball back to me.

Nathaniel:  No, I’m hitting.

Andrew:  You’ll have to double as the catcher.

Nathaniel:  So I’m catching the ball now?

Andrew:  No, you’re acting as the catcher so that you can throw the ball back to the pitcher, which is me, when you fail to hit the ball.

Nathaniel:  Nah I don’t think I’ll be doin’ that.

Andrew:  Catching or batting?

Nathaniel:  Neither, most likely.

Andrew:  (Grumbles and walks over to retrieve the ball).  This time actually take a swing at least.  You ready?

Nathaniel:  Yeah I’m ready.

Andrew:  Good, here it comes!  (Throws the ball.  It flies past Nathaniel, who swings and misses spectacularly).  Ah c’mon, what are you doing?!

Nathaniel:  I’m sorry, it appears that I’m not very good at this game.

Andrew:  Darn right you’re not.  You downright suck.

Nathaniel:  Ay, don’ blame me; this game is awful to begin with.

Andrew:  Yes!  Exactly.  And you are bad at this awful game.  (Walks over and grabs the ball again).  Once more, just to make sure.  Keep you’re eyes on it.

Nathaniel:  On wot?

Andrew:  The ball.

Nathaniel:  Why?

Andrew:  It helps you hit it better, that’s why.  Now swing.  (Throws the ball at him.  Nathaniel doesn’t swing this time).  Ah c’mon!  Why didn’t you swing that time?

Nathaniel:  It was a bad pitch.

Andrew:  That was a perfect strike!

Nathaniel:  I beg to differ.

Andrew:  Well I believe you’re wrong.

Nathaniel:  Nah, the ball nearly took me ‘ead off.

Andrew:  That’s a lie!  Forget this game!  I’ve proven my point that it’s an absolutely awful game!

Nathaniel:  (Quietly under his breath).  Or maybe you’re just a poor athlete…

Andrew:  What was that?!

Nathaniel:  (Drops the bat).  So, ‘ow’s you’re mum?

Andrew:  Don’t you change the subject.  (Calms himself down.).  Gah, I know what the problem is.  It’s this atmosphere.  We need to go somewhere else.  Come Nathaniel, to the transport!

Nathaniel:  The…oh darn.

Act 2: Scene 3

Andrew:  (He leads Nathaniel out the front door and towards a car.  He motions for Nathaniel to drive).  I call shotgun.  You can be my chauffer.

Nathaniel:  You know I ‘aven’t got me driver’s license.  Least not one for the states anyway.

Andrew:  (Sigh).  Fine, you be that way.  (Walks over to the passenger side door and opens it for Nathaniel).  Here, miss dainty is too good to drive without a license.

Nathaniel:  (While getting in the car).  ‘ey, I’m no dainty lady.

Andrew:  (Getting in the driver’s seat).  Oh, and let me help you with that seatbelt, too.  (Reaches over and buckles Nathaniel mockingly into the seat).  You all snug there ma’am?

Nathaniel:  (Slapping Andrew’s hands away frantically).  Cor blimey, would you cut that out?!  (The two just sit there for a few seconds).  Well then?

Andrew:  Well what?

Nathaniel:  Where we off to?

Andrew:  I don’t know; I thought you’d have some ideas.

Nathaniel:  Not ruddy likely.  I’m the guest; guests shouldn’t ‘ave to run the festivities, that’s the ‘ost’s job.

Andrew:  Oh my God fine, I’ll decide.  We’re going to go buy pie wherever we can find it, there, you happy that I decided on a plan?

Nathaniel:  Not really, no.  That’s a horrible plan.

Andrew:  Good.  I mean, whatever.  (Imitates Nathaniel’s accent as best he can).  Afterall, I’m the ‘ost, roight?

Nathaniel:  Jes shut yer gob and drive.

Andrew:  Fine.  (Pulls out a key and tries to start the car.  It makes a bunch of pathetic sounds and refuses to start).  Now that ain’t right…

Nathaniel:  Wot’s wrong wit the car?

Andrew:  (Tries starting it again.  It makes more odd and out of place noises).  Just give me a second.  (Pops the hood and gets out of the car.  He goes around to the front and looks under the hood).  Okay let’s see…if that’s the engine, then what the hell is that thing?

Nathaniel:  (Yells from inside the car).  Ay!  We’re not movin’!

Andrew:  I’m working on it, hold yer horses!  (Looks back at the guts of the car, completely baffled).  So, why won’t you start?  (The car shrugs back in car talk.  Andrew grabs something and pulls.  Something sounds like it breaks as the car yells out in car talk.  Andrew instantly lets go).  Found the problem!

Nathaniel:  Wot was it?

Andrew:  The car’s broken!  (Looks at the piece he broke off, dumps it back under the hood and closes it, then gets back in the car).  How ‘bout we just listen to the radio for a bit?

Nathaniel:  That’s about like watching the telly.

Andrew:  No‘s not!  We’re outside, we’re doing something.

Nathaniel:  We’re inside a car.

Andrew:  Fine, if we can’t go to something interesting, something interesting will have to come to us!  (Gets himself out of the car).  C’mon, out of the car!  (Walks over and opens Nathaniel’s door).  C’mon, what’re you waiting for?

Nathaniel:  I’m not entirely sure I want to follow you.

Andrew:  What?  Here, let me help you make up your mind.  (Reaches down to unbuckle Nathaniel, who shoves him back as they wrestle.  Andrew forcibly unbuckles him and throws him out of the car.  Nathaniel lands with a thud on the ground).

Nathaniel:  You cheeky little bastard.  Now my bum’s all sore.

Andrew:  What, did I offend your honor?

Nathaniel:  As a matter of fact, you have.  You have not only taken my gender into question but you have assaulted me like a brute.  (Stands up and brushes himself off).  Nothing personal but I demand a duel to the death.

Andrew:  (Thinks to himself).  Well on the plus side that would indeed be something to do…  Okay, I accept your challenge.  A duel to the death.

Nathaniel:  I choose pistols at dawn.

Andrew:  No, that’s too cliché and I don’t have pistols.

Nathaniel:  Wot ‘ave you then?

Andrew:  I have foam bats.

Nathaniel:  (Sighs).  Fine, as crass at that sounds, foam bats to the death at dawn.

Andrew:  Huzzah!

Nathaniel:  Wot will we do till then?

Andrew:  Um…crap.

Act 3: Scene 1:

Setting:  Roof top.  Andrew and Nathaniel are lying on their backs and looking at the stars.

Andrew:  There are quite a few of them, aren’t there?

Nathaniel:  Billions most likely.

Andrew:  Where’d they all come from you think?

Nathaniel:  Don’ know.  Someone must ‘ave put ‘em there though.

Andrew:  God?

Nathaniel:  Possibly.  Sounds like a likely concept.

Andrew:  Now there’s someone interesting.

Nathaniel:  Who?

Andrew:  Well God.  What makes him do anything that he does?

Nathaniel:  Boredom I’d wager.

Andrew:  Oh, so you think that God just got bored and started creating stuff?

Nathaniel:  Well, I don’t know if I’d put it so bluntly but yes.

Andrew:  So God just got bored one day and decided to create a whole world and stars and animals and such?

Nathaniel:  Could be.

Andrew:  And then he created humans just so that he’d have someone to talk to?

Nathaniel:  I suppose it could be very likely that he was lonely and wanted someone to talk to.

Andrew:  God?  Lonely?

Nathaniel:  It can get lonely at the top.

Andrew:  (Thinks to himself).  Hmh.  I suppose you’re right.

Nathaniel:  Course I’m right.

Andrew:  So, do we intend to wait here until the morning sunrise?

Nathaniel:  Not unless you have anything else planned.

Andrew:  (Pause).  So we’re waitin’ for the sunrise them.

Act 3: Scene 2:

Setting:  Andrew and Nathaniel are sitting on the deck in the backyard waiting for dawn.  It is slowly getting lighter and lighter outside.

Nathaniel:  So, you think it’s light enough yet to consider it dawn?

Andrew:  Hmm…  (Surveys the sky).  Nope, not yet.

Nathaniel:  ‘Ow bright it’s got to be?

Andrew:  Bright enough.

Nathaniel:  ‘Ow will you know when it’s enough?

Andrew:  We’ll hear a rooster crow.

Nathaniel:  (Looks around puzzled).  We’re in the suburbs.

Andrew:  And?

Nathaniel:  The suburbs are smack dab in the middle of a city.

Andrew:  So?

Nathaniel:  So, there ain’t a farm for miles away yet.

Andrew:  Your point is…?

Nathaniel:  Where the ‘ell would a rooster be coming from?!

A rooster crows signaling dawn.

Nathaniel:  Where did you get a bloomin’ rooster?!

Andrew:  Oh that’s what a rooster sounds like?  I thought you were talking about a parakeet.  I haven’t the daftest idea where the rooster came from.

Nathaniel:  A parakeet?

Andrew:  Sure, a parakeet could-

Nathaniel:  Forget about the damned birds!

Andrew:  You’re right.  Regardless of who or what signaled it, dawn is upon us along with the dusk of one of our mortal lives.

Nathaniel:  Is that you’re attempt at poetics?

Andrew:  Well I’d like to hear you do better.  Flowery crap is hard.

Nathaniel:  (Clears his throat).  Ahem.  The fiery sun rises in the morning sky, seeped in the blood that shall run dry, even God sheds a tear from his mighty eye, as one of these poor souls is soon to die.

Andrew:  That was awful.

Nathaniel:  I’ll have you know that I studied among the finest scholars of Oxford and had the honor of working personally with her Queen’s most revered troupe of performers!

Andrew:  Really now?

Nathaniel:  Absolutely!

Andrew:  You made that up.

Nathaniel:  What?!  At least I’m not a pathetic state college student.

Andrew:  Correction: State community college student.

Nathaniel:  You sir have sullied my good name and I challenge you to-

Andrew:  Oh yeah, I almost forgot all about that.

Nathaniel:  Well I’m re-issuing the challenge to be to the double-death.

Andrew:  How can you be double-dead?

Nathaniel:  The survivor also takes possession of the loser’s soul for eternity.

Andrew:  Ah, that’s beyond morbid.  So far as to be downright Dungeons and Dragons sort of thing.

Nathaniel:  Ack, that far?

Andrew:  ‘Fraid so.

Nathaniel:  Better stick with just the single-death then.

Andrew:  Good choice.  Still the foam bats?

Nathaniel:  No, I demand swords.

Andrew:  I don’t have swords.

Nathaniel:  Fine, then on with the foam bats.

Andrew:  Actually, heh, funny story actually, I don’t have those either.  I was hoping you wouldn’t call my bluff.

Nathaniel:  Oh great, my honor has been tarnished and there’s no way to regain justice by killing you properly.

Andrew:  Now now, there’s bound to be something around my house that can be used for killing each other.

Nathaniel:  Well come on, let’s ‘ave a look then.

Act 3: Scene 3:

Setting:  Small room with a closet.  Andrew is buried deep in the closet and randomly throws suggestions for things he finds back out to Nathaniel who is standing right outside the closet door with his arms crossed.

Andrew:  How ‘bout…high heel shoes?

Nathaniel:  No.

Andrew:  Leather belts?

Nathaniel:  Pass.

Andrew:  Metal coat hangers?

Nathaniel:  Put some off to the side, we may have to settle for those.

Andrew:  Hmm, what else…?  I have it!  (Shuffles out of the closet on his knees holding an old chess board in his hands).  Nothing is more worthy of restoring honor than the game of kings!

Nathaniel:  (Thinks to himself).  Hmm, you may be on to something with that one.  Okay, I accept this new challenge.  Prepare to be defaced in the most humiliating of defeats!

Andrew:  Yeah whatever.  To the living room!  (Points in the air and the two walk out of the room and into the living room).

Act 3: Scene 4:

Setting:  Andrew and Nathaniel are sitting across from each other at a table with a chess board set up between them.

Nathaniel:  Since my honor is the one at stake, I shall be the white pieces.

Andrew:  And by power of deduction, I shall be the black pieces.

Nathaniel moves a white pawn.  Andrew sits and does not move any of his pieces.

Nathaniel:  It is your move now.

Andrew:  I know, I’m pondering the best attack possible.

Nathaniel:  Why not just move the front one?

Andrew:  Aha, that’s what you’d like me to do, isn’t it?  Oh no, I shall move this one over…here!  (Picks up a black pawn on the corner and moves it).  Mwahaha, you have no idea what’s in store for you!

Nathaniel:  I suppose not.  (Moves a white bishop).

Andrew:  (Frantically looks down at the board).  Damn!  I hadn’t anticipated that move!

Nathaniel:  It was only my second turn.

Andrew:  And what a turn at that!  I have been blindsided and this game is now truly anyone’s game!  Until however I do…this!  (Moves his knight).  Behold!  I have advanced upon the field!  Tremble under the might of my dark pony!

Nathaniel:  It is called a knight.

Andrew:  Sure, and this piece isn’t called a castle either.  (Points to his rook).

Nathaniel:  No actually.  Those are called rooks.

Andrew:  What the hell is a rook?

Nathaniel:  One of those apparently.

Andrew:  Wow, my mind has been blown at the addition of this new knowledge.

Nathaniel:  Sometimes the simplest things, eh?

Andrew:  Absolutely.  (Nathaniel moves his white queen).  Bah?!  The white queen has decided to make a full frontal assault on my impenetrable fortress?!  I think not!  (Moves his knight closer to the other side of the board).  But beware!  My dark, (Sigh), knight, has begun his own assault and there is nothing that can stop him at this point!  Nothing!

Nathaniel:  (Moves his white queen into checkmate position).  Checkmate.

Andrew:  (Stoops incredibly close to the board and looks it over in a confused state).  Nah!  Preposterous!  But if I move this then…no, it’s checkmate alright.  (Squints in really close to the white queen).  You lying, betraying little hussy.  (Flicks it).

Nathaniel:  Right then.  My honor’s been restored and with that I should make my leave.

Andrew:  What?  No.  No no, you just got here though.

Nathaniel:  I’ve been here an entire day at this point.  That’s hardly just getting here.

Andrew:  You can’t leave though, what’ll I do?

Nathaniel:  I don’ know, watch a movie or somethin’.

Andrew:  But, but…I don’t want to!  (Looks down at the white queen again).  This is all your fault.

Nathaniel:  Don’t worry none; I’m sure your family’ll be back any time now.

Andrew:  (Looks at his watch and sighs).  Sadly you’re right.  But all they’ll want to talk about is the softball tournament!  I’ll be forced to sit through endless hours of my mother angrily discussing to no one in particular how upset she is about a call that was made or the attitude of one of the players on the other team or something or other.

Nathaniel:  And what if her team loses?

Andrew:  Ack!  That’d be even worse!  (Gets down on his knees and shuffles over to Nathaniel with his hands together).  Please, I’m beggin’ ya.  Just stay a bit longer.

Nathaniel:  You know I love it when you grovel like that.

Andrew:  So you’ll stay?

Nathaniel:  (Sighs).  For a few more minutes.

Andrew:  (Jumps to his feet in excitement).  Aha!  I know just the game to play for a last minute thrill; a good ol’ fashioned game of hide and seek.

Nathaniel:  Alright then.  You seek first.

Andrew:  Huzzah!  I’m unbeatable at this game!  There won’t be a place imaginable that you could hide from me!  (Runs to the corner and starts counting loudly).

(Nathaniel walks over to the front door, opens it, and takes one last sad look at Andrew before tipping his head and walking out.  Andrew continues counting as the door reopens and his family walks in).

Mother:  We’re back!

Andrew:  (Turns around with a jump).  And ten!  I got you!  (Notices his family has walked in).  Oh, I thought you were someone else.  (Sadly goes and sits down on the couch).  Hmh, he must have slipped out while my back was turned.

Father:  Well son, we won our games.

Andrew:  That’s great dad.

Mother:  They were close games, too.  We had to have had the most clueless umpire for half of our games though.  You should have seen this guy!  He didn’t know the difference between a ball and a strike and made some terrible calls.  (Turns to father).  You know, half the calls he made were wrong.  I had the rulebook right there.  Look, I’ll show you myself.  (Looks around).  Darn, the rulebook’s still in the car.  I’ll be right back.

Father:  So son, how was your weekend?

Andrew:  Oh, it wasn’t too bad I suppose.  I kept myself busy at least.

Father:  Well that’s good.  What did you do?

Andrew:  Oh, this and that.  My friend Nathaniel came over for the night, so we played some games and talked the evening away.  We were locked in a battle for honor.

Father:  Nathaniel huh?  (Looks over at the counter at an orange prescription bottle).  You didn’t take your medication yesterday, did you?

Andrew:  Dad, you know I never take my medication on the weekends.

Father:  (Smiles and looks over at the chess board).  So, who won?

Andrew:  Nathaniel beat me.  Pretty quick, too.

Father:  You know, I was fairly good at chess back in my day.  I bet I could still show you a thing or two about how it’s played.

Andrew:  (Smiles and walks over to chess board).  Okay, but I get to be the white pieces this time.

Andrew and his father sit down to play a game of chess.  Camera starts to pull out slowly.  Ending music plays along with credits as the two talk amongst themselves and begin playing a game while Andrew’s mother and sister periodically come in the door carrying softball equipment that they’ve unloaded from the car.

The End

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