Ext. Entrance to EMC Theaters - Day
It's a sunny but windy day. The weather calls for jeans and jackets, but GREG, 31, African-American, wears cutoff jeans and a t-shirt with a flannel tied around his waist. His hair is bright yellow with black roots, the sides are recently shaved. He paces aimlessly to the right of the ticket booth and entrance while checking his phone.
Enter TYRONE, 28, African-American, wearing a plain yellow almost a size too small for him and a navy windbreaker and snatchback cap with his work's logo on it. His stroll is not one of urgency.
GREG
What uuuuup?
TYRONE
Nothin, playa, you know, the usual: workin my fingers to the bone so I can provide food and tuition for the future of my loins so his mama will get off my fuckin neck.
GREG
Mmm, things not going well in paradise?
TYRONE
What? Oh nah, she moved out.
GREG (choking on saliva)
Nigga, what? I just helped ya'll move into that tiny lil apartment last week.
TYRONE
Yeah well she decided to move back in with her mama instead of dealing with my apparently egregious ass. I dunno. Least I got more room for my stuff.
GREG
Shit no wonder you working so much, paying more in rent and all.
TYRONE
Oh no, that bitch is still on the lease. I gave her a break on utilities, but she still paying half. I just had dinner with her last night. She says hi, by the way.
GREG (under his breath)
I'm never gonna understand this nigga.
TYRONE
Huh?
GREG
Nothin.
TYRONE
Oh, I thought you were complainin about how your shorts are failin to make you look like a white gay.
GREG
Shut up. Ain't nobody trying to look white. Too much ass for that.
TYRONE
Clearly.
GREG
Gayer.... (sasses his voice up) guilty ass charged, your honor.
TYRONE
If you had a car, the license plate would definitely read ASS-MILK.
GREG
Exactly, but I'm trying avoid being hate crimed, so I don't drive.
TYRONE
Is that why you don't drive?
GREG
Maybe... Listen, enough about my trauma, my shorts are cute as fuck.
TYRONE
You sure you not tryna get hate crimed? All press is good press right?
CHAUNCEY (off-screen)
(yelling) Look at dem short ass shorts!
Enter Chauncey, 31, Bajan-American, noticeably taller than the other two gentlemen. He wears a black t-shirt with a character on it with black and white track jacket; his shoes match.
GREG
Look at this late mothafucka here!
CHAUNCEY
Noooo. I was finding parking.
Greg and Tyrone look at the empty street, two cars are parked.
GREG
Bruh.
CHAUNCEY
Oh, not out here. I ain't even tryna let niggas trip over themselves as they notice my car. I parked in the garage two blocks down.
GREG
I'm surprised you walked that.
CHAUNCEY
You know I'm tryna be healthier... but I didn't; I rented a scooter and parked around the corner.
GREG
You have no shame.
The men walk towards the entrance of the theater.
TYRONE
What up, Chauncey?
CHAUNCEY
Aw shit, what up, Tyrone. I ain't know you was coming.
TYRONE
Yeah no, this is the only time of day that worked for me.
Ent. EMC Theaters Lobby - Day
The ceiling is high and the spotlights barely light up the large room. To the right is a wall of self check-in kiosks for purchasing tickets. Forward is the concession stand, attended by two teenagers. To the left is one teenager taking ticket stubs in front of a hallway that leads to the theaters.
GREG
Shit, fine by me. I hate crowded theaters anyway. People talking over the movie and shit. Now we can do all that for ourselves. Some real Negro Science Theater 3000 shit. Ya'll getting any snacks.
The group pauses, then laughs.
CHAUNCEY
Nigga, I like nice things, but I'm still frugal.
Chauncey and Tyrone pat themselves to show off their smuggled goods.
TYRONE
The question is where is yo shit, cause I know it ain't in them tight ass shorts.
GREG
(smugly) Maybe so.
CHAUNCEY
Nah, it's in that big ass mess he calls hair.
GREG
(gasps) Excuse the fuck outta me, sir. My hair is very in right now, according to me.
CHAUNCEY
Out here looking like an electrocuted troll doll.
TYRONE
Like Don King dipped in honey mustard.
CHAUNCEY
Like Frankenstein's Rent Boy.
Greg is visibly impressed by Chauncey's queer reference.
TYRONE
Chicken Nugget ass. Lookin like Rupaul in the 80s.
GREG
If that means you think I'd survive the AIDS epidemic, (sarcastically heartfelt) thank you!
CHAUNCEY
Would you though?
GREG
Obviously not. I'd have a rapid, tragic death and you all would moan me!
CHAUNCEY
I'm bout ready to moan the back of yo' head, with that crooked ass shape up.
GREG
You just mad cause I don't have to navigate hills and valleys like you do. My mama taught me well.
CHAUNCEY
Mm, (smacks lips) how is your momz, by the way?
GREG
She's very well and doesn't say hello to you at all.
Chauncey laughs.
TYRONE
But really though, I'm tryna understand it myself. Cause, for real, the front ain't even that bad, but as you curve around to the back... It's like you threw all of trigonometry out the window. Started with a protractor and said fuck it; had a cheat sheet full of the equations in your pocket but fumbled it before your walked yo ass in the classroom for the test; Pythagoras' theory be damned!
GREG
Doesn't matter; I did very well in the class so I could forget it at will, thank you very much. And what about you? Mad cause I have hair to fuck with? Hmm? Mad cause you and me got revert hairstyles?
TYRONE
First of all, my bald is beautiful. Second, I'm mad cause you got hair and you fuckin it up. You don't deserve that shit. And yo shorts still short.
GREG
As I thought. You just mad cause I'm stylin on ya.
CHAUNCEY
Oyight.
Greg pauses in disbelief.
GREG
Really? In front of company.
CHAUNCEY
Honestly, you did it to yourself.
TYRONE
The fuck just happened.
GREG
We just have too many references. Ignore us.
TYRONE
Ya niggas are weird.
CHAUNCEY
Yeah, and you bald as fuck.
TYRONE
And your scalp gives bitches car sickness. And?!
The trio stops walking as Chauncey and Tyrone exchange glears.
GREG
Hey... hey... but what about my hair? Don't it look like pee-flavored cotton candy?
CHAUNCEY
Shut yo nigga-naps up. You lucky I left my pick in the car.
GREG (grabbing his head)
You wouldn't dare.
CHAUNCEY
It's what your mother would want.
GREG
But "you can't comb this!"
Greg and Chauncey die of laughter as Tyrone is left in the dark again.
GREG
Shit. My bad. 'nother reference. Basically this kid at our high school had a loopy side afro... it was just really uneven all around. Anyway, long story short, after school we were all in the cafeteria after school and I snuck up behind him with my pick or comb - whatever I had - and from the nape of his neck combed up trying give his hair some life. Manz turned around to me and said "you can't comb this!" Sticks with me and Chauncey to this day.
TYRONE
Yall niggas are terrorists.
GREG
Not me! That was like my one time being a bully, deadass. I was quiet as shit before I met him.
CHAUNCEY
So was I. That school changed us.
GREG
For the better?
CHAUNCEY
Meh.
TYRONE
The fuck are we seeing again?
GREG
Bad Hair.
Word
~~
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Hilarious 😂
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