From: "D. Vacca" <firstname.lastname@example.org> Newsgroups: talk.bizarre Subject: Sociological Roadtrip (Acts I & II) Date: Tue, 2 Dec 1997 01:54:36 -0500 Organization: All USENET -- http://www.Supernews.com Lines: 123 Message-ID: <Pine.GSO.3.96.971202015042.24429Aemail@example.com> To: David Vacca <firstname.lastname@example.org> ACT I: In front of Brad's apartment. (BRAD, with friends DAVE, KAM, and EVIL BRAD, are looking at a 1990 Ford Taurus.) BRAD: Here we have My New Car. DAVE: Really? KAM: How do we know he's not bluffing? EVIL BRAD: Well, it looks like a car. DAVE: Four wheels, 'HFS bumper sticker, shock damage from potholes... EVIL BRAD: ...cop tires, cop shocks, made before catalytic converters... DAVE: Prohibitively taxed throughout the metro region, festooned with parking tickets... BRAD (opening door): Fuzzy dice. DAVE: Very nice. KAM: I don't buy it. It's a clever mock-up. BRAD: What would I have to do to convince you otherwise? KAM: Car-type stuff. EVIL BRAD: Run over some pedestrians, Brad. (BRAD gets behind the wheel of The New Car) DAVE: Uh, guys, you notice, we're standing here? KAM: Well, yeah. DAVE: As such, we could be considered pedestrians. If he's not bluffing, we're gonna be taking Berlitz lessons in the language of pain. KAM: Hey, Brad! BRAD: Yes? KAM: On second thought, I think something more specific than "car-type stuff" will be required to convince ever-cynical me. DAVE: Good call. BRAD: Then what? KAM: What else do people do with cars? DAVE: Like any of us would know. We're urban pioneers, hip... EVIL BRAD: ...poor... DAVE: ...sophisticated... EVIL BRAD: ...snotty... DAVE: ...progressive... EVIL BRAD: ...poor AND snotty... DAVE: ...young people. Until now, we just didn't *do* cars. That's suburbanite thinking. KAM: Hey... I've got it. BRAD: What? KAM: SOCIOLOGICAL ROADTRIP! - - - - - - - - - - - - ACT II: Inside a 1990 Ford Taurus. (BRAD is driving. EVIL BRAD has radio duty. KAM has the map. DAVE has the all-important job of kibbitzing all of the above tasks.) KAM: Fascinating, Captain. The Suburbanites are not attacking. BRAD: Says you! (BRAD jerks the wheel sharply to the right). HEY, MORON! Go to some planet where you're familiar with the local laws of physics! KAM: I suggest we open hailing frequencies. BRAD: So! You think we may! Be able! To! Talk to! Virginians? EVIL BRAD: Just use small words, sir. BRAD: More Chumbawumba, Scotty! I need! More! Chumbawumba! EVIL BRAD: I'm spinning the dials as fast as I can, Keptin. But the local stations canna play "Tubthumping" any faster than once every four minutes! DAVE: Stop the car. I'm walking. KAM: Walking? We don't even know where we're going yet. DAVE: Mama didn't raise me to suffer through Star Trek. KAM: Even Deep Space 9? DAVE: I'll admit, that's a better question. BRAD: The question is moot! Our destination is in sight! EVIL BRAD: Where we going? BRAD: Behold! DAVE, KAM, and EVIL BRAD: Oooooohhhhh... --- David Vacca, frightened of this thing that I've become.