A Night at the Roxbury Page #5

STEVE:

(sadly envious)

Kickin' it at the Roxbury, rollin'

a banana Ferrari.

DOUG:

Tasty geisha by his side.

STEVE:

The man is a bag of chips.

DOUG:

(correcting him)

All that and a bag of chips.

STEVE:

Right. Well, we're doing okay. I

got a number tonight.

DOUG:

(thrilled)

Let me see it!

Steve hands him a cocktail napkin. Doug reads it.

DOUG:

555...? Steve, this isn't real.

It's one of those fake T.V.

numbers.

STEVE:

Is not.

DOUG:

Is, too. I get this number all

the time.

STEVE:

At least she respected me enough

to write a fake number. We'll get

a real one one of these days.

DOUG:

One of these days? Steve, don't

you get it? These are our days.

Now! Today! Ahora!

STEVE:

Ah whatta?

Doug jumps off the car, starts pacing.

DOUG:

Steve, we're young. We're

supposed to purge ourselves of the

party virus or we'll just get so

clogged up that when we're like

forty we'll just explode.

STEVE:

Yeah, like one of those individual

plastic butters you get in the

diner. You know, like when you

squish it, just bursts out all

over the place.

Steve makes explosion sound.

DOUG:

Forget the butter, Steve. I'm

trying to explain --

STEVE:

(interrupting)

Or like when you put an egg in a

microwave and all the yellow stuff

flies out.

He mimes exploding egg.

DOUG:

That's an exceptional way to

visualize it but listen to me.

STEVE:

Oh! Remember in camp when we put

that can of beans in the fire?

DOUG:

And it exploded. Yes. Steve! If

we're ever going to live up to our

full potential, we've got to get

this partying out of our systems

now.

STEVE:

Let's do it.

They both get in the car.

CUT TO:

INT. BMW - NIGHT

DOUG/STEVE

Alright, let's do it! Do it!

Woo!

STEVE:

... Do what? Everything's closed.

Beat.

DOUG:

Then let's go home.

STEVE:

(excited)

Let's go home! Wooo!

CUT TO:

EXT. BUTABI HOUSE - MORNING

The house is a bad '80s combination of classical styles.

CUT TO:

INT. BEDROOM - MORNING

We PAN AROUND to see semi-juvenile furniture -- which is

overwhelmed by a huge stereo system.

Doug sleeps, mouth open. A piece of red licorice reaches

INTO FRAME and starts darting in and out of Doug's mouth.

He coughs and waves it away. The licorice starts going

up his nostril. Doug wakes up.

DOUG:

Hey! Knock it off!

STEVE:

Twizzled you, my friend.

DOUG:

Yeah, you totally got me.

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