Sunday, March 07, 2004

Braunschweiger

"Braunschweiger"
First Draft
August 18, 2007


CAST
Anthony: 30-year-old partner in New York law firm
Richie: 30-year-old Union Plumber


(Early evening. Alley behind Melrose Park funeral home. Attending the wake of a childhood friend, Anthony and Richie have just stepped out for a cigarette and to pass a flask back and forth.)

RICHIE
I guess I shoulda reached out to her more. What a way to go, right?

ANTHONY
Her poor mother. Poor, poor lady.

She looked good though.

RICHIE
Her mother? You’re a little drunker than I thought. She’s like a thousand years old.

ANTHONY
No. She looked good.

Actually I think I’m more stoned than drunk.

RICHIE
Oooh. Big shot Manhattan lawyer all weeded up!

(Richie studies Anthony for a moment)

Surprising though, I look at you . . . and I think coke.

ANTHONY
(laughs)
Nope. I can finally afford the good stuff. I had my assistant Fedex it to the hotel.


RICHIE
No hotel for my oldest friend. You should stay by me.

ANTHONY
I don’t think so, Rich. Thanks.

RICHIE
I insist.

ANTHONY
I have a lot to do back at the W. The fedex had some actual work in it.

RICHIE
(exhales loudly)
I don’t want you at my house anyway. Jagoff.


(Gives Anthony a little jab. Anthony and Richie take a moment to light new cigarettes, then begin to engage in that stupid, playful sort of sparring two guys might do outside an imaginary Melrose Park funeral home. Anthony pulls away.)

ANTHONY
Even seeing her in there, I still can’t believe she’s gone.

RICHIE
I know, it’s hard. We’re only 25. It’s too early for this.

ANTHONY
We’re 30.

(Takes a long swig off the flask.)

I was going to marry her.

RICHIE
(aggravated)
You know, I’m pretty sure it’s sacrilegious to be dishing up bullshit within 30 feet of a priest.

(does the sign of the cross)

And admit it, you were just banging her brains out in high school.

ANTHONY
No, I remember you telling everyone that was your after school job.

RICHIE
Oh yeah, that was me. And half the guys in our class. Did you date her before or after me?

ANTHONY
Uh, I think I was number three. . . no. . . number four after you.

RICHIE
You came after Demetri the Greek. He was bawling like a chick in there earlier. You see him?

ANTHONY
It was probably the last piece of ass he ever got.

You know what, it could be the fact that “I’m weeded up” as you call it, or maybe it’s this swill you put in the flask, but I feel like I could cry.

RICHIE
Don’t fucking cry.

ANTHONY
(Angered, he points to the Funeral home door.)

Our friend’s in a coffin in there. . . after losing her life in the strangest, no the most horrifying way imaginable. . . and I can’t cry? Are you even human?

(Anthony sobs)

RICHIE
It is the weed isn’t it? You always cry when you’re stoned. You’re more depressing than a Neil Young song.

ANTHONY
(Crying stops abruptly)

Yeah it’s the weed.


RICHIE
It’s great to see you buddy. Too bad it’s for something like this.

ANTHONY
Yeah, it’s like a class reunion in there. Immaculate Conception Class of 1995.

RICHIE
(Nods)
She was a beautiful girl.

ANTHONY
Gorgeous. You couldn’t dream up a better first time.


RICHIE
She was your first? Senior year?

ANTHONY
A respectable 17, what’s wrong with that?

RICHIE
Uh nothing, if you’re a--


ANTHONY
(interrupts)
A what? Do not go there. She told me you couldn’t. . . I don’t even have to say it, do I?

RICHIE
She’s a liar. We did it plenty. Maybe I caught her in one of her black out phases. She was drunk all the time. Homeroom? Drunk. Gym class? Drunk.

ANTHONY
She didn’t remember. Come on.

RICHIE
Obviously we can’t put her on the witness stand. But yeah, we were together a lot. I can’t believe you say she was good. She’d just lie there like a . . .well, like a corpse.

ANTHONY
Spectacular choice of words.


RICHIE
Oh, pardon me. I’m just a plumber. I’m not some fancy, big bucks fag lawyer.

ANTHONY
(shakes his head)
Now I know why I haven’t been back here in five years.

Jagoff.

RICHIE
No, you’re the jagoff. I’m grieving here. I’m prostate with grief.

ANTHONY
(busts out laughing)
I think you mean prostrate. You’re prostrate with grief, Richie.

RICHIE
What is this, Final Jeopardy? Prostate. Prostrate. Who gives a fuck.

ANTHONY
So there was some talk about raising money in her honor.

RICHIE
For what? For a cure for being loose? They better never cure that.

ANTHONY
No, to raise awareness. So nobody has to die like that again.

RICHIE
Yeah, that was pretty ugly. But you’d think it would be common sense to not abuse luncheon meats in that way.

ANTHONY
To each their own.

RICHIE
Me, I’d take some cool whip over what those two freaks did. I could never get Linda to do it outside anyway.

ANTHONY
And even if you did, I'll bet if you had your wife, naked, covered in liverwurst and lying in Lincoln Park in the middle of the night with wild coyotes lurking, I’m guessing you’d let that call go to voicemail.

RICHIE
I got a blue tooth, so I coulda just kept on going.


Black out.

No comments: