Post by Lawnmower Jones on Sept 11, 2006 23:47:22 GMT -5
(The scene opens inside of a hotel room, nothing special. The lights are on fully, to the point where the shade of the bright light could actually cause eye damage. The room is not very big, with one twin bed placed perfectly in the middle of the room. The sheets of the bed are messy, and the two white pillows that lay on top of it slanted, like an Asian's eyes. There is a dresser next to the bed, about two feet apart. A mini TV, no more than eighteen inches, rests atop of the faded brown dresser. On the screen plays the local news, fuzzy. On the opposite side of the room is a big gray and green plad suitcase. It's front is unzipped, exposing the three pairs of overalls folded bad. The wall is dirty with a few holes, and an old eighties frame with a duck reads "Home Sweet Home".)
TV Newslady: Thankfully, the desperate thunderstorm did not spread into the area.
(We hear a toilet flushing and the familiar sounds of Lawnmower Jones grumbling. Out of a hidden door comes Jones, with a red face and toilet paper stuck onto his shoe.)
LJ: (Grumbling) Stupid, no good, doctor. "I can help you!" Stupid idiot. Now Lonnie's mad at me. I can't believe my luck, I just-
(Jones stops at the bed. He pauses for a slight second and rummages through the sheets. Finally, after a few moments of rough searching, he finds his coveted TV Title. Jones clutches it with both hands and brings it to his chest. He lets out a huge sigh.)
LJ: At least I still have you.
(Jones moves his lips into a kiss. He closes his eyes and slowly moves forward. His tongue comes out just a little bit. The lights in the room dim down and KC and Jo-Jo's "All My Life" begins to play.)
(As Jones' lips and tongue are near inches away from the belt, the phone rings. Jones, obviously frustrated, turns his kissy kissy face into a look of anger and sets the title down. The lights come back on and the music disappears. Jones walks to the dresser where a manilla phone sits. Jones forcefully picks it up and shoves it to his right ear.)
LJ: Hello.....Hello?!....Hello? Why don't you talk? I'm here! I can't bel-...Oh?...Oh, yes...Yes!...Oh boy, I didn't know it was you...Yea...Yea, I know about Lightning...Yea, that's him...Which one?...Well, they're all some sort of natural disaster...Yea, a disaster to watch...What?...Seriously?...Aw, shucks, I don't know...Well, she damn near hates me already...Well...Alright, what the hay? Meat me tomorrow at six at night in the lobby downstairs...OK, love you, too. Bye.
(Jones lets out a sigh as the scene fades to black.)
TV Newslady: Thankfully, the desperate thunderstorm did not spread into the area.
(We hear a toilet flushing and the familiar sounds of Lawnmower Jones grumbling. Out of a hidden door comes Jones, with a red face and toilet paper stuck onto his shoe.)
LJ: (Grumbling) Stupid, no good, doctor. "I can help you!" Stupid idiot. Now Lonnie's mad at me. I can't believe my luck, I just-
(Jones stops at the bed. He pauses for a slight second and rummages through the sheets. Finally, after a few moments of rough searching, he finds his coveted TV Title. Jones clutches it with both hands and brings it to his chest. He lets out a huge sigh.)
LJ: At least I still have you.
(Jones moves his lips into a kiss. He closes his eyes and slowly moves forward. His tongue comes out just a little bit. The lights in the room dim down and KC and Jo-Jo's "All My Life" begins to play.)
(As Jones' lips and tongue are near inches away from the belt, the phone rings. Jones, obviously frustrated, turns his kissy kissy face into a look of anger and sets the title down. The lights come back on and the music disappears. Jones walks to the dresser where a manilla phone sits. Jones forcefully picks it up and shoves it to his right ear.)
LJ: Hello.....Hello?!....Hello? Why don't you talk? I'm here! I can't bel-...Oh?...Oh, yes...Yes!...Oh boy, I didn't know it was you...Yea...Yea, I know about Lightning...Yea, that's him...Which one?...Well, they're all some sort of natural disaster...Yea, a disaster to watch...What?...Seriously?...Aw, shucks, I don't know...Well, she damn near hates me already...Well...Alright, what the hay? Meat me tomorrow at six at night in the lobby downstairs...OK, love you, too. Bye.
(Jones lets out a sigh as the scene fades to black.)
