A man, boyish, walks down a highway. It is bright and the landscape is barren apart from the sun-baked bushes that dot the horizon. He is barefoot, shirtless, carrying a surfboard with a fat dent in it. His hair is still wet and his thumb is up. Cars race by, none stopping. A smile dances across his face.
Character: (to audience)
I knew right away I’d said the wrong thing. Most people would have missed the clues; nostrils flared, lips pursed, eyes like a storm. But I didn’t. So I did what anyone would have done. I grabbed my surfboard, (pointing) opened the car door and walked off. Do you really think I was going to just sit in that cage and wait for the inevitable to happen? I think not. She left me on the side of the road. I like to think that I left her, but technically she drove away. (pointing)
Thinking back, I should have seen it coming. (running hands through long hair) It all started at the beginning….
Wait! I know what you are thinking, doesn’t it always starts at the beginning? Isn’t that what the beginning is, “the start?” but I’ll tell you this; it really does all start at “the beginning”.
Just off highway 1 (pointing again, this guy likes to point) there is this surf spot. Guess what it’s called? “The beginning”. I win? (pointing to the heavens) Anyways, at this spot on some random afternoon I was doing what everyone was trying to do. Surf. (strikes a pose) Trying to that is. (Stumbles over a rock, a huge rock impossible to ignore, and throws his board into traffic narrowly hitting a car and causing several others to swerve. Without looking who is coming the boyish-man strides into the highway causing horns to blare and one car to rear-end another. A driver gives him the finger. Oblivious he keeps walking.)
When everything was looking good, some crazy chick runs me down. I ask her who she thinks she is. (Angrily points at passing car, driver looks scared) She lets me know that she is Megan and it’s nice to meet such polite people these days. What a bitch.
Back in the parking lot I’m trying to get out of my wetsuit when this “Megan” person comes over. Over the course of the next few minutes I am somehow coerced to be picked up the next day. To go surfing. With Megan. Great… (runs hands through hair)
Next day there I am, bobbing in the ocean, wondering what the hell I’m doing. (runs hands through hair) Megan thinks it’s just so fun to run people over. I think she has a death wish. One that involves being stabbed. (pretends to stab himself, trips… On the ground) I’m not saving her. She can die. (gets back up)
On the ride back I ask her if she has a death wish. Tires squeal as she brings the car to a halt. She stares at my head. (points at head) I think she has laser vision and my brain will be splattered all over the inside of the car when my head explodes. (makes exploding noises) Somehow I work up the nerve to tell her that she must have one, considering she thinks its “so much fun” (air quotes) to run people down. That’s when I got out of the car.
Good riddance is what I say. (hangs head) She was a bitch. I didn’t need her. (head hangs lower) I mean she coerced me out of my wetsuit; (head falls even lower) it’s still in her car. (Tears fall from his face) Trust me though, (perking up a tad) she might have won the battle, (points to the heavens) but she won’t win the war… I have a plan to get it back…
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