Suburbia Page #2

JEFF:

Hey, he's a human being you can give him that much.

TIM:

Actually, the only thing I gotta give that guy is a one-way

ticket back to Greaseball-land.

JEFF:

Yeah, well, that pizza could feed a family of four in Turkey or

India or wherever the f*** he comes from.

BUFF:

Oh yeah? Oh, how'd you ship it over there, man? Federal Express?

Hm? By the time it got there it'd be way cold and coagulated.

Total waste. Cheese be stuck to the cardboard.

JEFF:

Buff, that slice is the difference between life and death for

some half-dead Bangladeshi.

BUFF:

Yo, your gettin' me all upset here.

JEFF:

You should get upset. Everyone should get upset. When, when

Hitler was greasing the Jews, people were saying, "Don't get me

upset. Your bumming me out." My duty as a human being is to be

pissed off. Jesus Christ, not that it makes a difference on the

first f***ing place. Nothing ever changes, man. Fifty years from

now we're all gonna be dead and there'll be new people standing

here drinking beer, eating pizza, bitching and moaning about the

price of Oreos, and they won't even know we were ever here. And

then fifty years after that those suckers will be dust and bones

and there'll be all these generations of suckers trying to figure

out what they're doing on this f***ing planet and they'll all be

full of sh*t. It's all so f***ing futile.

TIM:

If it's all so f***ing futile, what the f*** are you so f***ing

upset about, fuckhead?

JEFF:

Because I'm alienated.

BUFF:

Hey! Hey, you like orgasms? Oh, yeah!

(yells)

Oh, Hey, hey, I'm at work yesterday, b*tch comes in, orders a

twelve-inch pie with extra cheese. So I ask her if she wanted me,

like, to carry that out to her car for her. B*tch is obviously in

heat. "Yes, right away." So I carry the pie out to her car. We

smoke a J. She blows me. We eat the pizza, I chase her with the

beer. Smoke, babe, slice, brew. All four bases, f***in' home run

man!

Jeff walks over towards the payphone, Buff follows. He dials a

number.

JEFF:

Your ability to fantasize is only exceeded by your ability to

lie.

BUFF:

Oh, untrue, Jeffster. I think, uh, two weeks ago we attended a

concert where I had f***ed two girls.

JEFF:

(into telephone)

Hey, it's me. No, that's, that's the ultimate liar of liars.

BUFF:

And your mom.

JEFF:

(into telephone)

No, I'm here. Where are you?

BUFF:

Where are you-hoo?

JEFF:

(into telephone)

No, no, no, no, I don't wanna be stuck with the guy. I want the

tickets.

BUFF:

Stuck, who? What guy? Huh?

JEFF:

Shut up! Aw...

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