Episode 1
FADE IN
As the scene opens we see a dog-eared G.E.D. certificate on a simulated knotty-pine wall where it is lovingly held in place with snippets of duct tape. We hear Outkast playing on the boombox just below it.
The unshaven man just outside the warped screen door has an excellent mullet peeking from beneath his ventilated faded blue vinyl baseball cap. The cap and his sleeveless gray T-shirt have only a few fairly recent stains and both are fashionably trimmed with the logos of popular heavy-equipment companies. Many of the man’s tattoos are spelled correctly.
The man does not notice that his appearance-challenged crossbred dog is peeing alongside his 16 ounce Colt 45 tall boy. The can is perched atop a rusted-out wheel rim that has rested in the weedy patch next to the LPG cylinder since the secondhand trailer was hauled to its pad in 1979.
DP & Jolene's trailer
click to enlarge
He is struggling to pry off a slightly tarnished chrome hubcap so he can mount a fresh retread. He plans to upgrade to a twelve-foot wide unit with whitewalls as soon as his regular lottery numbers hit. In the meantime he still has a half tub of Bondo to tide him over. His curses, while not especially original, are robust. He is well known to the trailer park management.
He is still sulking over the fight this afternoon with Jolene who insisted on seeing the Springer re-run that came on at the same time as The Best Of WWF Smackdown. He would leave her except for the discounts they get from her job at the Speedi-Mart. She may or may not be his second cousin.
Jolene's pickup is usually found at the SpeediMart where she has her day job. The guy at the No Cash Down - EZ Credit lot told them it was an '88 International. "Low mileage, trust me, it's just a little problem with the odometer." Since then DP has tried to buy parts at the scrap yard and discovered that International stopped making pickups in 1966. But Jolene likes it, "my little blue babycakes" and most days it gets her to work. And, often, back home again.
Jolene's truck at the Speedi-Mart
click to enlarge
He finally realizes that his near empty can of WD-40 will not be enough to loosen the lug nuts and finish the tire job before dark. The man finishes the Colt 45, crumples the damp can against his forehead and tosses it onto the pile under the rig.
He climbs up the single metal step and heads to the Windows 95 computer on the dinette to resume his on-line posting of insightful but playful criticisms for the HBO Sopranos fan community. He worries about the second notice he received last week from his dial-up Internet provider.
MUSIC UP
