PICTURES OF YOU

House. A teen looking thru a box of old pictures. Mom hoovering.

MOM: Don't steal any of those.

TEEN: Steal? Why would I steal pictures of myself? I could sell them on Ebay. Bet I could make a killing, people are always looking for 10 year old Polaroids of complete strangers. I'm not going steal any of them, alright? I told you, I just need a couple for a school project.

MOM: Well don't take any of them permanently.

TEEN: Like stealing them, I got it.

MOM: Some of them are very dear to me.

TEEN: What is this?

MOM: What?

TEEN: This! My head is missing! Did you cut my head out of a family picture?

MOM: Of course not.

TEEN: There's more! There's at least 10 pictures in here with either my head or my whole body cut out.

MOM: I don't know how that could be. Maybe I did it for a scrapbook awhile back.

TEEN: Why just me?

MOM: Honestly, I don't recall.

TEEN: You literally cut me out of the family!

MOM: Okay. Yes. I did.

TEEN: Why?

MOM: Because I was angry with you.

TEEN: So you cut me out of the family pictures.

MOM: What would you rather I do? Ground you? Hit you?

TEEN: What did I do?

MOM: I don't remember. It was years ago.

TEEN: I can't believe you'd do that. I'm like six years old in this picture.

MOM: Well we were both very upset, your father and I. He took you out of the will.

TEEN: I did something so terrible that Dad took me out of the will and you cut me out of the family pictures, but you can't remember what it was?

MOM: They say 'forgive and forget' and that's what we did. Once we calmed down, your father put you back in the will. And I would have repaired the pictures also had I not burnt the removed portions in an old soup can.

TEEN: You did that?

MOM: Well of course I feel awful about it now.

SNOWED IN

Surpisingly crowded bar. Woman enters covered in snow.

ABBY: Mind if I have a seat?

NIXON: Don't mind. Stuck in the snow?

ABBY: Me and everybody else. Probably the most action this place has seen since the 20's.

NIXON: Not for long. I heard they're gonna re-open the road here soon.

ABBY: Huh, didn't even now it was closed. I'm stuck in a ditch half a mile back. I'm Abby by the
way.

NIXON: Nice to meet you Abby. I'm Nixon.

ABBY: After Dick Nixon?

NIXON: Would I admit it? (laugh) Nah, it's my last name. Henry Nixon everyone one just calls me Nixon.

ABBY: So where were you heading Nixon?

NIXON: Essex county. Still heading there, just delayed a little.

ABBY: What for?

NIXON: Business.

ABBY: What kind of business?

NIXON: Unfinished business.

ABBY: O--Kay.

NIXON: I don't really wanna talk about it.

ABBY: No kidding. Sorry, I wasn't trying to pry, just curious. I use to live in Essex county.

NIXON: That where you're headed?

ABBY: Yeah, I've still got friends and family there. Try to visit when I can.

NIXON: If you're cold, the bartender was bringing around hot tea earlier, probably still has some
behind the counter. Would ya like a cup?

ABBY: No thanks. I think I'm gonna try and head back out here pretty soon, try and dig myself out, and head on my way again. Just needed to find a phone. I'm anxious. It's been awhile since I've seen some of the people back there.

NIXON: You need a tow? I got an all wheel drive pick-up out there with ropes, cables, and chains.

ABBY: No-no. I'll just call someone to come out.

NIXON: Sure, but that'll take forever especially in this weather. Probably set you back a fair penny as well.

ABBY: I appreciate the offer, but I'll be alright.

NIXON: Either you let me help you or you call a tow truck, giving you plenty of time to have some tea with me. What do ya say? I just wanna help. Please.

FRUIT TART

At diner. Eating tarts.

ONE: It doesn't taste anything like I remember.

TWO: It’s not bad-- certainly not the scrumptious, succulent, mind altering fruit tart you led me to believe it would be.

ONE: Sorry. (sigh) That's so bizzare. For as much as we rely on our memories it's amazing to discover just how screwed up some of those memories really are. That good fruit tart somehow becomes a great fruit tart-- and a bad coffee becomes the worst coffee you ever had. It seems to just get more and more polarized in whatever direction every time you think back on it. Then one day you end up in a moment like this-- making a fool of yourself, realizing that your brain is not really keeping an accurate log of things. It's almost frieghtening.

TWO: One of my earliest memories is playing dominos in Central Park with my grandpa. It is so vivid in my mind, the smells and sounds, more so than most. Turns out it's not even real. My grandfather passed away when I was less than eighteen months old. I don’t know when or why, but I must have made it up, and just continued replaying it in my mind until it was fact, and now a permanent part of my memories. I'll bet even now I could take a polygraph test based on that memory and I'd pass. Crazy, huh?!

ONE: We obviously have this random ability to add and subtract within our memories, if only we could do it to the memories we'd want to change.

TWO: Yeah, I can think of a number of memories I'd like to forget altogether.

ONE: What about embellish? Any fruit tarts you'd like to make better? Other than this one.

TWO: Yeah if I could I probably would. I just can't think of one off the top of my head. You?

ONE: Yeah-- too many. (takes another bite) It's like waxy.

TWO: The aftertaste is making me feel sick.

ONE: I refuse to believe this is the same tart. They must have changed the recipe. I'll go get us some drinks.

THE FEAR GAME

Facing one another.

WOMAN: You go first.

MAN: Alright. I’m afraid of -- pain.

WOMAN: Pain? That’s not specific enough. Physical pain?

MAN: No just pain. All pain. Not a big fan.

WOMAN: That's too general. Pain is just a part of living.

MAN: So what your saying is, I should have said, 'I’m afraid of living'; it just sounds more suicidal sounding than I was going for. What’s your fear?

WOMAN: Spiders.

MAN: Well if we're splitting hairs; that's a phobia not a fear. There's a difference. You're not scared of spiders-- just the poisonous ones or the ones with huge fangs. But you've not taken the time figure out which ones those are so you just fear them all: The irrational nature of a phobia. Because what you're really afraid of is being bite by one of those deadly spiders-- the pain of it. That's why you fear spiders.

WOMAN: And they’re gross looking.

MAN: So you're afraid of pain and ugliness. You ever been bite by a spider?

She shrugs.

MAN: You probably have just not by any of the big fanged poisonous ones. Likely in your sleep, it was just so uneventful you didn't even notice.

WOMAN: So it's irrational. I get it. So what? Everyone's afraid of pain.

MAN: But no ones says that. They say needles, or heights, or commitment; but its none of those things really. It's the fear of the pain that comes from the needles, or the fear of falling from those heights, or the fear of getting your heart broken when you really commit to a relationship.

WOMAN: You can’t avoid pain.

MAN: No-- not altogether, but you can certainly steer clear of the pains you’ve already experienced. Once bitten, twice shy.

WOMAN: Yeah 'shy' not 'avoiding'. You'd be letting the fear of pain cut you out from experiencing life. You can't overcome something if you refuse to face it.

MAN: Why put your hand back on the stove only to get burned again?

She takes his hand.

WOMAN: Because most of the time-- the stove is not on.

JACK & DIANE

Drive-in. Backseat of a red convertible.

JACK: What are you thinking about?

DIANE: I'm not thinking about anything. I'm trying to watch the movie Jackie.

JACK: Don't call me Jackie. My mom calls me Jackie.

DIANE: So?

JACK: So you're my girlfriend, not my mom. Let's not try to blur the lines. You each have your roles.

DIANE: I have rolls? Are you calling me fat?

JACK: No. Stop it. I just don't want you to be like my mom.

DIANE: You don't like your mom?! Is it because she has rolls?

JACK: I'm about ready to punch you in the face.

DIANE: Do it.

JACK: I love my mom.

DIANE: Good, 'cause I couldn't be with anyone who didn't love their mom. Sigmund Freud says men eventually marry woman that remind them of their moms.

JACK: You're grossing me out.

DIANE: The thought of marrying me grosses you out?

JACK: That's not what I'm saying.

DIANE: Alright.

JACK: You're mad.

DIANE: No, I'm trying to watch the movie.

JACK: Are you sure?

DIANE: You know, I'm not sure. I suppose it is possible I am the only teenage girl in the world who doesn't know when she's angry. Let me get in touch with my emotions and I'll get back with you.

JACK: Are you trying to piss me off?

DIANE: I was going for 'turn you off', but yeah I am a little.

JACK: Why?

DIANE: Because you asked me what I was thinking, which is to say 'I hope you're thinking what I'm thinking', and I know what your thinking, and I'm not thinking that. You're a seventeen year old boy-- everyone knows what you're thinking. You're thinking let's run off behind a shady tree, get me out of these Bobby Brooks, and have your way with me.

JACK: (pause) No I wasn't.

***Scene inspired (obviously) by John Mellencamp's Jack and Diane