Written by Joe Janes
11/7/09
293 of 365
CAST
Theodore, 50s
Jeff, 30s
Pooper, ??
(Lights up on Theodore, a homeless man, rummaging through alley dumpsters looking for food. He comes across a framed painting.)
THEODORE
Lovely day for shopping at the local market. Hello, Mabel, how are you? How’s Vern? How are the kids? Why, no, I did not hear about Peter? Really? What a rascal! Well, she’s better off, let me tell you…Hello? What’s this? Somebody painted this. Somebody painted this, stuck it in a frame and someone threw it out in the trash. Looks like a train. Or a mill.
(Jeff walks by with his dog.)
THEODORE
Hey, mister. Got any change?
JEFF
No, Theodore. Not tonight. Just out walking my dog.
THEODORE
Yeah, yeah. Jeff, right? And his wonder mutt. Hey, you like art? You look like an art man to me. Or maybe your wife. Or your dog.
JEFF
What did you find there?
THEODORE
A painting. Look. I think it’s a train. Or a mill.
JEFF
Or a serene lake in autumn as if you were looking from the front porch of your father’s cabin where he died.
THEODORE
I suppose we all see what we want to see. That’s the point of art, right? Give it to you for ten bucks. You want to buy it?
JEFF
No. I want to strangle my wife.
THEODORE
That’s twenty. Cash only.
JEFF
I painted this. This is where I used to go as a kid with my dad. Lake Rood. R-o-o-d.
THEODORE
I know how to spell. Well, Jeff, I can see it has sentimental value. You can talk me down on the price.
JEFF
I don’t understand why Lacey threw it out. She knew it meant something to me. She never said anything bad about it, ever. It’s been on the wall above our sofa for years. Years. Longer than we’ve owned…him. (indicates the dog)
THEODORE
Guess that’s why I never got married. That and I’ve been told I have an aroma women find unattractive. Not a good one. Sort of like baby powder and vomit.
JEFF
I’ve never done anything bad to anything she owns.
THEODORE
Want me to see what I can get for it and give you a cut?
JEFF
This is her dog, too. I walk him every night. I do. Rain or no rain. She named him Pooper. Such a horrible name. I’m embarrassed to call him.
THEODORE
Pooper. That’s bad. It’s one thing if you gain a name like that as a nickname, but to intentionally be named that. Hey, Fuck Box! (Jeff looks at him.) That’s the last name someone called me. I deserved it for reasons I wish not to go into. I’m glad it didn’t stick.
JEFF
Oh, and look. It has a scratch in it. And some grape jelly.
(Theodore looks at the painting and licks off the jelly.)
THEODORE
You should get back at her.
JEFF
You’re right. I should. Here.
(He hands Theodore Pooper’s leash.)
THEODORE
Whoa, man. A dog? What am I going to do with a dog? I can’t even feed myself.
JEFF
Eat it. I don’t care. It’s not my dog. But I want my painting. My house, my painting. It goes where I say it goes. I’ll tell Lacey I traded the dog to get my painting back. That will serve her right.
(Theodore hands him the painting.)
THEODORE
Okay. I can probably get more money for, uh, man, I have to give him another name.
JEFF
Do that. He’ll be thankful.
(Jeff exits with the painting. Theodore sits Pooper down.)
THEODORE
Sit…Petey…Butch…Yeller…Fuck Box… (This last name excites Pooper.) Oh, you like that name. Okay, then, from this day forward you shall be known as Fuck Box. Let’s see if we can find us both some food, because if we don’t, that hind leg of yours is looking delish. That’s right, delish. I’m fancy.
(They walk off together as lights fade.)
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