Jessie, Wilson, Dolores and Vodka - Part 2

[In Wilson’s living room. Jessie is sitting calmly and Wilson is pacing around, nervously]

JESSIE:

Don’t freak out. It’s just one of the theories I gave him.

WILSON:

I cannot believe you! I don’t know how your crazy little head works but other people don’t do this! They don’t kill their father’s cat; blame it on their friend, then come to the same friend for help! (Exhales angrily) you…you tell me exactly what you told him.

JESSIE:

Look, I just told him that you take advanced chemistry and you love doing little experiments and maybe it was you who tested his latest chemical on him. But, I did remember to mention that I’m sure you meant no harm and the experiment just went wrong. (Seeing WILSON’s furious face) Don’t get mad. I told you, I don’t think he bought it.

WILSON:

And what made you think that?

JESSIE:

Because he still looked like he was gonna come at me with a Jackhammer!

WILSON:

Great. Well now he’s gonna come at me with a jackhammer!

JESSIE:

No! Will you relax?

WILSON:

Tell me something; couldn’t the cat have just died on its own, you know, of medical reasons?

JESSIE:

Nah.

WILSON:

Why? It’s perfectly plausible! She was old too.

JESSIE:

Firstly, she was perfectly healthy because she had her quarterly health check up just last week.

WILSON:

(Looks at him like he’s crazy)

JESSIE:

Hey man, don’t look at me. I told you my dad’s weird about that cat. Also, if we mention medical reasons to him, he’ll want to have an autopsy done.

WILSON:

(Talking more to himself than Jessie) We just have to think of someone else to blame this on. That’s all.

JESSIE:

Yeah, but he better believe it. Oh and we have to do it before he hires a freaking detective to catch the perpetrator of this heinous crime.

WILSON:

(Looks at him questioningly)

JESSIE:

His words, not mine.

(Just then the doorbell rings. Wilson looks through the peephole, then turns to face Jessie)

WILSON:

(Whispers): It’s your Dad! Now what?

JESSIE:

Well get the door! Not opening it won’t make him go away. And stop looking so guilty. You didn’t actually do anything, remember?

[WILSON takes a deep breath and lets Mr. PARKER in]

Mr. PARKER :

(At Wilson) did you do this?

WILSON:

(Looks to Jessie for help)

JESSIE:

Uh...Dad, that’s what I came here to ask him. But uh…turns out he didn’t do it after all.

WILSON:

(With a tiny voice): No, Sir.

JESSIE:

He was at home the whole time. He was uh… (Looks at Wilson)

WILSON:

Cleaning the kitchen.

JESSIE:

Clea... (Throws Wilson a pathetic look) cleaning the kitchen.

Mr. PARKER:

(After some thinking, looking resigned) I believe you Wilson. This settles it. I will have to hire a private investigator. The perpetrator of this heinous crime will not go unpunished.

JESSIE:

(Rolling his eyes) No dad. Please, there’s no need for that.

WILSON:

Yes. Jessie will figure this out for you.

JESSIE:

Yes! Yes, Jessie will … wait what?

WILSON:

(Taking Jessie aside, to Mr. PARKER) Just give us a minute.

[In Wilson’s kitchen, having a whispered discussion]

JESSIE:

What’re you doing?! (Looking around at the kitchen) Dude, did you really clean up in here?

WILSON:

Trying to save your ass. And mine. And of course I did.

JESSIE:

As if he’d ever find a loser who investigates cat killings.

WILSON:

Well what/if he does?

JESSIE:

(Breaking into an evil smile) Ok. Come with me. I’ve got an idea (holding Wilson by the elbow and taking him towards the living room) It’s a brilliant idea.

WILSON:

(Looks suspicious) I don’t like the look on your face. You look way too happy. It worries me.

JESSIE:

Just go with me on this one ok?

[In the living room]

JESSIE:

Dad, I think I know who did this. It’s Mr. Heckles. It’s gotta be him.

WILSON:

(Shocked, mouths the word) WHAT?!

Mr. PARKER:

(Disbelieving) Our neighbor? The one who got divorced because of you? Why would he kill Dolores?

JESSIE:

Because he hates me!

WILSON:

(In an undertone) no surprises there.

JESSIE:

He knew how much I loved Dolores and how much her death would affect me.

WILSON:

(Snorts and then covers it up as a cough)

JESSIE:

I’m sorry dad. This is all my fault.

WILSON:

(looks surprised)

JESSIE:

He did this to exact revenge on me.

Mr. PARKER:

If that is the case, then I want you to confront him.

JESSIE and WILSON

(In unison): What?!

Mr. PARKER:

Yes. Confront him and bring me a full confession.

JESSIE:

Uh…Uh…But I don’t know if that’s the best way to /deal with it.

WILSON:

Not the best way at all.

Mr. PARKER:

Well I think it is. You both are still the prime suspects. And I’m not going to barge into a man’s home and question him without proof. You think he exacted revenge on you. You should be the one to get me a full confession. If you do, then I’ll confront him.

JESSIE:

(Helpless) Right. Well, we’ll go over to him right now then.

[WILSON and JESSIE reluctantly leave the house]

Jessie, Wilson, Dolores and Vodka

This is a script that I started working on for a script - writing workshop that I'm attending. This is the first beat. I'll post the others as I write them (if I write them).

[Jessie, a boy of 16 is standing on the front porch of a suburban house in a nice neighborhood, talking on the phone.]

WILSON:

(Sleepily) Jessie? What’s going on? How can I help you?

JESSIE:

Uh… you could start by coming down to your front porch for a minute. That would be immensely helpful.

WILSON:

(Jumps out of bed) WHAT? Are …are you down there?

(Walks downstairs and opens front door to face Jessie)

WILSON:

Oh...this can’t be good. This can’t be good at all.

JESSIE:

Hey! You just said ‘how can I help you’?!

WILSON:

It’s two in the morning! And I was really just being polite. I’d really rather not be of help to you at all. I…I’m gonna go/ now.

JESSIE:

No No! Wait. Please. You know you want to know why I’m here. Don’t pretend.

WILSON:

(Considers leaving for a moment, then) Right. Well. Fine. Let’s hear it then. What’ve you done this time? And more importantly, what do you want from me?

JESSIE:

(Pretending to get offended) How about you show a little faith in me, huh? How do you know it’s something bad? I could be here to give you great news!

WILSON:

(Gives him a skeptical look)

JESSIE:

Right. Well anyway … Dolores died.

WILSON:

DIED? You did this, didn’t you? Wha...what did you do?

JESSIE:

Nothing! It was an accident.

WILSON:

Of course it was. Your old man is going to KILL you. Dude, what the hell happened?

JESSIE:

Well, you see, I was on YouTube the other day…

WILSON:

Oh no…

JESSIE:

I watched this hilarious video! It was SO funny! It was EPIC!

WILSON:

(Voice laced with sarcasm) Yeah. I bet it was. My funny bone is still tickling.

JESSIE:

There was a drunk cat doing all kinds of crazy things! It was so cool! Anyway, I thought, you know, we have a cat. Why not try it? See what it does?

WILSON:

I do not like where this is going…

JESSIE:

So I sneaked some Vodka from the dad’s liquor cabinet and switched it with her water. She came and lapped it all up. Next thing I know, she’s dropped dead. In 5 seconds. I didn’t think she’d drink it in the first place. I mean what kind of stupid cat can’t tell water from vodka?!

WILSON:

So you try to give vodka to a CAT and the cat is stupid for drinking it? Great. Nothing wrong with that. That makes perfect sense. What did you do then?

JESSIE:

When my dad walked in on the dead cat, he went berserk. He went purple and sort of started puffing up with fury. He assumed, correctly I might add, that I had something to do with it. So I told him I had nothing to do with it, suggested a couple of alternative explanations and got out of there as fast as I could…although I’m pretty sure he didn’t buy it.

WILSON:

Setting fire to the kitchen, wrecking your neighbor’s marriage, almost running your teacher over with your car…and now killing your dad’s cat. You know, I think you’ve made progress. At least you’re not endangering human lives anymore.

JESSIE:

Exactly! I mean it was just a CAT! I’m telling you, that man is ridiculously attached to the cat. It’s weird.

WILSON:

(Looks at him with exasperation) Look, buddy, your dad is a peace-loving man, a very patient man. After all, he raised you. I’m sure if you go home and explain to him exactly what happened, he’ll let you live.

JESSIE:

The peace-loving man you’re talking about would have turned into revenge-seeking psycho by now! I can’t go back there without a plan.

WILSON:

(Sighs with resignation): Fine. Fine. Come on in. We’ll think of something. By the way exactly what alternative explanations did you give him?

JESSIE:

(Laughing nonchalantly) Oh yeah, about that…I told him you might have tested one of your chemicals on him.

WILSON:

WHAT?!

Psychofaff

Disclaimer: Names have been changed in the following conversation to protect identities and myself.

Three friends – Sane, Psycho and Silent Observer (how they became friends, I don’t know!) were at Irrelevant’s birthday party. They were having the following conversation….

Psycho: So when is Prabjot coming?

Sane: [thinking about it…] Prabjot….Prab…wait, who? Who’s Prabjot?

Psycho: Dude prabjot! You know Prabjot!

Sane: [blank face]

Psycho: Prabjot! The guy we met at the mall the other day?! You were telling me about him just a couple of days back!

Sane: [comprehension has not yet dawned]

Psycho: he’s your friend’s boyfriend! I know you know him! Stop pretending!

Sane:[ comprehension finally dawns] hahahaha….oh god!...do you mean Prateek? As in Anusha’s boyfriend Prateek?..Hahahahaha….I can’t believe you called him Prabjot!

Silent Observer: [breaking her silence] HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA……Prabjot! HAHAHAHAHA….why would you remember Prateek as Prabjot?! The 2 names don’t sound even remotely similar! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA…

Psycho: [gets touchy] Stop laughing both of you! It was an honest mistake!!...I just mixed up his name…stop making fun of me!

20 uneventful minutes pass by during which Prateek arrives. He greets both Sane and Psycho. Small talk follows after which he settles down on the couch beside us.

Psycho: [leans over to Sane and whispers] So when is Prabjot coming?

Sane: [looks at Psycho with a mixture of amusement and exasperation] THERE IS NO PRABJOT!!!

Silent Observer: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA………..

I really want to write...

I really want to write. I don’t know what to write about.

I want the click – clacking of the keyboard to result in eloquent prose.

Scratching my head, I think aloud, “what do I write about?”

My sister looking up from work replies, “Stop scratching your head”.

I ask again, “what do I write about?”

Her disinterest replies, “Anything”……

Deciding to take her upon her word I look to my surroundings, trying to find ‘anything’

To write about.

Do I write about the annoying whirring of the fan, whose restlessness mirrors the restlessness of my mind?

As I try to find inspiration in the concrete jungle visible through my windows, my mind wanders.

My eye is caught by the rhythmic flapping of the cover of a novel under the fan, then by the bottle of 99% fat free Ranch Dressing, then by the stack of pills.

I still don’t know what to write about.

A million thoughts flash across but my mind stops at none; like some broken projector that runs through the images stopping at none.

Then

The thought fox suddenly bites me

And I finally decide to just write.

To write about not being able to write.

Boredom

Boredom: that’s the topic my sister gave me when I asked her to suggest a topic I could write on. Yes, you would see the irony of that if you were living my life. Having just finished my class 12 board exams and with friends who are preparing for upcoming entrance exams, the dominant and most consistent feature of my life , as I’m living it currently, happens to be boredom. Until I start college in July, assuming I get accepted, I have nothing to do. My life has no purpose whatsoever. And yes, I know what most people will say. And yes, I know that the right thing to do is to ‘use this time constructively’. My mum says I should use this time for self improvement, to apply home –made face and hair packs (made of substances that cling to your hair with astonishing tenacity and leave a lingering foul odor in their wake )and to take nourishing (re: long and tedious) beauty baths that I will apparently never again have the time for. My dad says I should accompany him to the office and learn about stocks and shares and banking and investment and other such words that an arts student like me, a lover of history and literature, (intentionally) knows nothing about, except that I find them dull and uninteresting. My elder sister , a working woman who gets no more than 1 day a week to get bored and do nothing ( and who secretly envies my current life characterized by boredom and doing nothing ) thinks I should give up my station/post as the couch potato and exert myself physically like hit the gym or dance to get in shape. I know that they say these things because they want to be good parents and mentors and they want to give me good advice but the truth is that if any one of them were given a month off , from their busy hectic work schedules , a month to just do anything (or nothing) , that’s exactly what they would do: nothing. I just finished studying for a month for the board examinations that lasted another whole month. I will soon start college which while I’m thrilled about, will be more hectic than school even. Only one person understood that maybe it’s not so wrong to do nothing and to want to do nothing. If having time to get bored and not do anything is something that all (working) adults seem to want so much that they’d perhaps be willing to sell a kidney for, then maybe I should utilize this time to do nothing ,to just be.