Bear with me, it's my first node. New to this HTML thing.
INT. NIGHT, I-95 REST STOP
Derek, 19, sits with his father, 55, in an antiseptic
white booth (fake ferns around) in a Roy Rogers, on
their drive back from Derek's freshman year at
college. Derek is vaguely preppy, vaguely hippy in
dress, like many New England college students.
Dad wears navy sweatpants, purple polo shirt and a
hat that was probably free at a sporting event. Yes,
he looks sort of clownish.
Derek picks at a chicken leg; Dad eats
lumpy mashed potatoes with a spork. More focus on
the food than each other throughout this scene.
(after a decent silence)
DAD: Remember your friend Danny Nicholson?
DEREK: He wasn't my friend.
DAD: But you used to invite him over all the time.
DEREK: But he wasn't my friend. Mom and his mother used to
play Scrabble together, so she'd make me invite him over.
He wanted to play fighting games all the time. I never
DAD: Remember you used to play Little League against him,
and his dad coached their team?
DEREK: (still thinking of Danny) He broke my Optimus Prime
DAD: (talking about Danny's father) Yeah, he was a jerk.
(Bite of mashed potatoes). Remember that time when you
were about twelve, you were playing them and you stole
second, and he had told the shortstop to tell you it was a
foul tip, so you started walking back to first and he
tagged you out, and you went walked back to the bench and--
DEREK: (obviously still sore about this event) Yeah, yeah I
DAD: He was a jerk.
DEREK: He was always calling bullshit plays like that.
(Bite of chicken, expecting Dad to speak, then:) Why do you
bring it up?
DAD: He had a stroke last week. (sporkful of mashed
DEREK: (a bit struck) Wow. (pause) Wow. I hope Danny's
okay. Wasn't he about your age?
DAD: (Apparently unfazed by the thought) He was five years
younger than I am. (small pause) I guess when something
like that happens to someone you don't like, I guess you're
supposed to feel bad for all the bad things you thought
about him. (pause; more mashed potatoes) He sure was a
A scene I haven't written yet.