Francis: Waiter, Scritch my foreheads. Do we have a menu for snax?
Ethan: Hey, where’s your brother ?
Simon: Beats me…
Ethan: Use your nose…
Simon: Someone’s making hamburgers….
Francis: Look at you, floof. No one’s got you like you do. You’re no pattern or repeat. Look at this fluff…(scratches belly) eat the snax, you’re worth it.
Ethan: uhm France? You ok?
France: I’m just fluffing myself up.
Ethan: well, uhm, I’m going to bed…good night I guess .
Ethan: (steps in something…) what the?? Ugh…FRANCIS! Francis Cash! Get in here!
Francis: What did I do?
Ethan: Why did you not use your litter box? Oh my god, it’s everywhere…this is carpet man.
(Starts to clean it up.)
Wait, this isn’t sh$t this is olives…
Simon: Yeah, I wouldn’t eat those, they’re gross and disgusting.
Francis: Atleast he tries new tings.
Simon: the cheeses were good tho.
Ethan: man, I was saving these…
Francis: (shuffling in the room)
Ok pops, we’ve got to get you moving. It’s time to get you out there, you’re not getting any younger you know.
Ethan: What are you talking about?
Simon: we set you up an adoption profile. So you can get adopted.
Ethan: say that again? And you better be looking for a new place to live while you’re at it…
Francis: Ok, so what’s some good qualities…you’re house broke, you’re good with kids…qualities…qualities …I’ve got nothing …
Simon: He’s a good hunter…and he likes to walk.
Francis: He is good with the snacks, and couch snuggling. Do we have any fish? Or cammo? He’s gonna have to hold something so they know he’s a catch.
Ethan: Guys! No! Delete it. What? This is for PETS! And I’m fine! I’m happy.
Francis: Hmmm I’m unconvinced but if you insist.
Ethan: I insist, I’ve got this. Really. I do. Everything is fine.
Simon: What if we had pizza
Francis: I want chicken nuggets! FIFTY chicken nuggets.
Ethan: we’re having…we’re having…Space soup.
Simon: This isn’t very promising.
Ethan: It’s very good. You’ll like it.
Francis: Where’s the space? I don’t see the space? Are you sure you’re making this right?
Simon: are we poor? You can hit me with it dad. I’m a big dog.
Francis: oooh tuna, what’s poor? Is that in this ?
Ethan: What! (Slams counter) nonsense! You gentlemen, are the richest scoundrels I personally know.
Francis: Hey, I thought we could order some nachos. Cheesy nachos.
Ethan: Not on my watch.
Francis: Hey! If the moon was made of cheese, would you eat it?
Ethan: I –
Francis: I know I would!
Ethan: Did you get that from SNL?
Francis: what’s Snel? Pour me an adult beverage. Milk! That takes guts.
Francis: have you seen the news!
Ethan: What did I tell you about watching the news…
Francis: It’s the end of the worlds…there’s no point of snax anymore.
Ethan: Then don’t read the news.
Ethan: Listen, your reason for snax, was made up by guys like me. To sell snax. There’s never been a point to anything.
Francis: You stole that from Adsmen.
Ethan: 1st it’s madmen and yes, because it’s true. The only thing you’re competing with is yourself.
Francis: So I should zoom faster and take more naps?
There’s a man
Passing out promises
Gold and silver too
But the success
Never reaches down this far
They won’t follow you down
And every woman I know
Works harder than two men
And they love
And they bleed
And they sew up our needs
And like Cash said
“When the man comes around”
Well, they won’t follow you down
So we fight
And we survive
Even when our paychecks
Barely make it through
What else are we to do
The silver and gold
Doesn’t come down this far
But they pass it around
With promises too
But they won’t follow you down
I can’t write
My head is filled with clouds
I try to sit
But I can’t breathe
I watch the colour in the trees
And I think
About the dumpster on the side of the road where we used to get shoes and we used to get books…
And I think
I hope I’ve used mine
I think about the old man
Who lived in a school bus
And had a teenager for a wife
Her eyes said she had escaped something worse
A sort of curse
But I was too young to understand
Now, I think as I try to write, what good am I? What good am I?
If we can’t listen
If we look away
What good am I
And what good have I done …
A clouded head is part of Crohn’s
Just like the ache in the bones
The shouting stomach
The anxiety and the depression
I write about it but I can’t talk about it
And you’ll never see it
We all are just stories in the end
And we want what we want
And we say it sets us apart
And we expect others to know
But part of us stays on the road
Because even we don’t know…
And all we have is time…