The Kings of Summer Page #4

- Huh? Huh?

- My word. -Sorry, Dad.

- Who is he doing a show for?

Oh, my gosh, I know,

it's like he's on camera.

Are there girls around?

Yeah, there must be. Uh-oh.

Girl check.

Checking for a girl in a bikini.

Nope. I don't see one.

Those hormones are a-ragin'.

Hello?

I'm in.

- What?

- The house.

I'll do it.

Yes! Yes! Holy sh*t! Yes!

Okay. Awesome.

Well, we'll break ground

tomorrow.

Yeah, right.

Hello?

Joe, what do you tell your dad

when you leave all the time?

If we were talking, I still

wouldn't tell him sh*t.

Jesus, what happened

between you two?

Nothing.

He's just an old, lonely prick,

and I want to get out of there

before I end up

anything like him.

Joe?

Can I talk to you

for a second?

- You made this?

- I did.

Took very little time.

Very few days.

"My name is Jamal Colorado,

and I have kidnapped your son.

"He is unharmed,

and will stay that way

if you abide by

the following rules."

"Jamal Colorado"?

"Anfernee Texas"?

"D'Sean Utah"?

Yeah, I decided on the format

of Denzel Washington:

A black first name,

followed by a state.

Yeah, f*** that.

We're not using those.

Okay, Biaggio,

good effort...

although very poorly

planned out

and, um...

savagely racist.

I just didn't want

to do nothing.

Dad, um...

I'm gonna spend the night

at Patrick's tonight,

if that's okay.

Okay, and make sure

you're in bed by 7:30.

I'll call the Keenans.

Freedom!

F*** you, Frank!

Honey, I got

the classic ciabatta bread.

- They finally had it.

- You're getting wild.

- Sliced.

- Yeah.

- This is our big day.

- You're crazy.

We usually do

rustic ciabatta.

I know it.

Mom, Dad, I'm going to spend

the night at Joe's.

Oh, okay, honey.

Well, I already made

dinner, though,

so take some vegetable soup

for you and Joe.

Uh, no, thanks.

No one likes

vegetable soup, Mom.

Well...

Okay, we're

in Pretendland, I guess.

"Nobody likes

vegetable soup."

- Did you hear this, honey?

- I heard it.

- Oh, my God.

- He's your son.

Listen, tell Mr. Toy

to put some white rice

underneath it.

It'll be delightful.

Mom, no.

No vegetable soup.

We're not eating vegetable soup.

I'm getting a Tupperware.

Here, take this tomato.

Jesus.

You okay, fatty?

No.

No, I'm not.

I- I'm really nervous.

We're really doing this, huh?

Yes, we are.

I've never done

anything like this, Joe.

It's starting to freak me out.

Well, uh, neither have I.

Kind of the point.

Yeah, yeah, I know, I know.

Just, okay, before I make

a big decision,

I always, you know,

say to myself,

"I'll do it unless God gives me

a definitive omen

in the next 30 seconds."

So, you know,

it's just some

dumb superstition I have.

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