CAR GAME

A tall, frightening man drives the car on the left side of the car (as in stageleft, meaning he's on the right side of the car, meaning he's British.) Next to him is another man, who is shorter and less frightening. This man rocks back and forth with his hands under his legs. His name is Fridge. Rather, his nickname is Fridge, although no one could tell you how he got this name, nor what his real name is.

FRIDGE: I've gotta piss Roy.

Roy takes a drag from a cigarette.

FRIDGE: Will we be there soon?

Roy exhales out his nose.

FRIDGE: Roy?

ROY: We get there when we get there.

FRIDGE: Lemme listen to the radio?

Roy takes another drag from his cigarette, shaking his head.

FRIDGE: C'mon, please?

ROY: No Fridge.

FRIDGE: We've been driving in silence for four fucking hours.

Roy raises his fist to Fridge's head. Fridge cringes.

ROY: Hey, watch the fucking language.

FRIDGE: Yeah I got ya Roy, but this silence is making me go bonkers.

ROY: Go to sleep then.

FRIDGE: Nah, I'd rather keep you company Roy.

Roy puts out his cigarette angrily.

ROY: This trip will go a lot faster if you just fall asleep.

FRIDGE (rambling): Nah, see I'm not a good nap-taker. Never have been. I remember getting 22 spitballs into this girl's hair. Hannah Jacobson, she dated one of my friends in high school. Of course she was in high school at that point too. As was I, we were all in the same grade. He wasn't in the kindergarten class though, which was the class where I got the 22 spitballs into her hair. So you see, I can't just sleep in the car, and I also can't just take naps at-

(he pauses and looks at his bare wrist)

FRIDGE (CONT'D): Say Roy, what time is it?

ROY: About 4.

FRIDGE: Yeah, I can't just take naps at 4. Especially without a pillow or adequate lighting.

ROY: Try.

Fridge emits a squeaky laugh.

FRIDGE: Oh Roy, you are too good, y'know that?

Roy grunts and lights another cigarette.

FRIDGE: But I suppose I could give it a shot.

Fridge closes his eyes. As he does so, Roy makes several angry, goofy looks directed at Fridge. Fridge opens his eyes, and Roy looks forward.

FRIDGE: Nope, can't do it Roy. Just can't get it.

ROY: Pity.

FRIDGE: Yes siree.

They sit in silence, Roy smoking and Fridge rocking on his hands.

FRIDGE: Would it kill you to say something?

ROY: Might.

Fridge looks out the window, bored.

FRIDGE: Can I have a cigarette?

ROY: No, you don't smoke.

Fridge exhales loudly.

FRIDGE: Fine.

Silence.

FRIDGE: I wish I had learned how to nap in my childhood. Practice makes permanent.

Roy smokes silently while Fridge looks at him.

FRIDGE: God I'm bored.

ROY: Want some of my sleeping pills?

Fridge thinks about it a moment.

FRIDGE: Yeah, sure.

ROY: Take the wheel.

Fridge reaches his arm over Roy as Roy rummages through his bag. Roy takes out a prescription bottle without a label filled with pills.

ROY:You'll need to take extra since it's your first time. Have a little over half the bottle.

FRIDGE: Woah man, are you sure? That seems like a lot.

ROY: Yeah, I'm sure.

FRIDGE: Okay.

Fridge takes half the pills and swallows them down with a Diet Coke.

FRIDGE: Great, I can't wait to finally nap. Wake me once we reach Alaska, okay?

Roy grunts. Fridge falls asleep.

ROY: Good night bitch.

He stops the car and feels Fridge's pulse. For the first time, Roy smiles. He looks much less frightening when he smiles, in fact he's quite handsome. Roy takes off Fridge's shoes, and pushes him off the chair and out of the car. Roy puts out his cigarette on Fridge's butt, then shuts the car door and resumes driving.

ROY (lighting a cigarette): Finally, peace and quiet.

THE END