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ROAD TRIP

An original short script by Steve Meredith

EXT. HOODMOUNT. 1969 DODGE CHARGER: In the drivers seat is DREW SUTTON,
in the passenger seat is JAMES GIVINS.

James:

So what made you want to fix this piece of crap?

Drew:

My dad said that it was the only car I was going to have, so I had
to fix it up, because I wanted to go down to Florida for spring break.

James:

I wonder who well meet.

Drew:

Hopefully some hot girls.

James:
(laughing)

You can say that again.

Drew:

Pass me some of those chips.

JAMES picks up the bag of Ruffles sitting at HIS feet.

James:

Hey do you have Dr. Lipton for Psychology?

Drew:

Nope, I have Dr. Gifford

James:

Liptons been having these really weird discussions lately; questioning
who our creator is.

Drew:

Oh really?

James:

Now you know me, Drew.  You and I both grew up in very Catholic
families.

Drew:

Yeah.

James:

So naturally we have no question that God is our creator, and that
each of us has a purpose.

Drew:

Well, yeah, of course.

James:

But then I got to thinking, what difference does it make?

Drew:

So youre now questioning weather or not God is our creator?

James:

No, Im questioning our existence itself.  I mean, what if we
dont actually exist?  What if theres someone writing out the
stories of our lives?  I mean, take Romeo and Juliet for example

DREW nods.

There
was a playwright controlling their every move.  Shakespeare could
have made them live happily ever after, but NO, Shakespeare fucked it
all up with his suicide fetish in the last act.  What if thats
whats happening to us?  What if there is some Mark Twain or Earnest
Hemmingway wannabe upstairs?

Drew:
(sarcastically and rhetorically)

Youre actually comparing Earnest Hemmingway to God?

James:

Thats not my point.  My point is that people are always saying
that we are in control of our own destinies.  And that if we work
hard all our lives, we can walk in the front door after work with a
Ferrari sitting in the driveway, a beautiful supermodel wife with a
lot of beautiful kidsand a golden retriever barking at us to go play
with them.  But what if were not in control anymore, or worse,
what if we were never in control.  That scares the shit out of
me.

JAMES reaches back into the back seat, grabs a can of Sprite, and
opens it, he takes a swig.

Drew:

Why does it scare you?  I mean its not like we know our destinies, so its exactly like
being in control of them.  I like to believe that were the authors of the screenplays of
our lives.  And we have the power to take our lives in whatever
direction we want.

James:

But what if we dont?

Drew:

So you believe in predestination?

James:

I dont want toI mean, I certainly believe that there is a God and
that if we live like Him that we will be saved and transported to a
place of a eternal lifei.e. heaven.  All Im saying is, what if
God has an itinerary for our entire lives? 

Drew:

He does.

James:

We yeah I know he has a plan for all us but

Drew:

James

James:

I would just like it if I could live my own life, you know? 
God knows that I would follow him, and live my life like Jesus would
have

Drew:

James

James:

I just wish that I could feel like I was in control of my own destiny

Drew:
(calmly)

James, its like Forrest Gump said.  We dont know if we all
have a destiny or if were floating around on a breeze, and the truth
is well never know.

James:

Thats what bothers me.

Drew:

You cant let it bother you.  Just live your life.  Were
going to arrive in Miami Beach today around noon, and were going to
meet some attractive girls, and were going to have fun.  Dont
worry about our destinies, well find out them out when we least expect
it.  Nowdo me a favor, and pass me a fucking Pepsi.

James:
(passing the Pepsi)

PfsshExistentialism

Drew:

What a bunch of bullshit

James:
(chuckling)

Thats exactly what I was thinking.

THEY BOTH chuckle, DREW then turns on the radioTOO MUCH TOO SOON
by LLAMA plays.

EXT. HIGHWAY. CLOSE UP ON STREET SIGN, IT READS: MIAMI BEACH NEXT
RIGHT: We see the 69 Dodge Charger pass the sign.  Fade to black.

ROLL CREDITS

THE END.