A LITTLE HEARTACHE

Written by Tom Bailey

tmbailey@gmail.com

INT. GARAGE - NIGHT At the center of a two-stall garage, an old car, partially covered with a tarp, a few empty beer cans on the trunk. Various tools hung neatly on the walls. Three MEN in formal dress: MARCUS, 30s, with blood STREAMING from his nose. GENE, 40s, inspects his RIPPED shirt. HENRY, 30s, stands between the two men. All three are PANTING. HENRY Heathens! Mongrels! Both of you. GENE Eat shit, Henry. Punk. Beat. Marcus goes to a nearby workbench, finds a soiled old rag, uses it to staunch his bleeding nose. GENE (CONTD) Yeah. I got you good, huh? Gene LAUGHS, swigs a beer. Henry SIGHS. MARCUS Brand new suit, covered in blood. GENE Your own blood. Thats the issue. HENRY Barbs gonna kill you. MARCUS Brand new suit... Fuck. GENE Sounds like he learned his lesson, doesnt it, Henry? Henry clears some of the beer cans off the back of the covered car. Gene takes off his shirt and tie. Now in his undershirt, he smiles at Marcus, who glares back. HENRY He built this, every brick, by himself. Might be the last time were all here. How about a little respect, huh? A little heartache... Silence. Henry, now almost CRYING, goes to the door. GENE Come on, man. Dont leave us, well tear this place down without you.

2. Henry leaves. Marcus takes off his jacket, inspects it. MARCUS So you gonna answer my question? GENE Fuck your question. MARCUS Who in their right mind brings a date to a funeral? GENE Im proud of my family. MARCUS Wish we could say the same. Gene forces a LAUGH. He tosses a beer at Marcus, hard. GENE Have another. On me. Marcus opens the beer, which FOAMS over. He GULPS it, BURPS. Genes eyes light up. He slaps Marcus on the back, SCREAMING. GENE (CONTD) Balls up! Thats a boy! Blow of some steam, you stiff little prick! MARCUS You fucking stink, Gene. Seriously, that cologne youre wearing is offensive. Thought you should know. GENE Whoo! Yes. Con-fucking-crete! Now were being honest. All it took was me kicking your ass. MARCUS And I never liked you, not for one second, growing up. Marcus gathers the empty cans off the back of the car. GENE You know what? Where are you from, Marky? When people ask you, where do you tell them youre from? MARCUS You were nothing but a prick to me and Henry, who hates you too, by the way.

3. GENE You tell em youre from here, dont you? You say youre from small-town, middle west, attached garage, the whole thing with a cornchewing grin. But you aint from here. Wanna know how I know? Cause if you were from here, you could laugh it off, getting roughed up by your older brother. Youd rub a little dirt on it and pound another beer cause your dad just died. MARCUS Im taking the car. Marcus RIPS the cover off the car: an old, dusty sedan. GENE What are you gonna do with it? MARCUS Doesnt matter. Im taking it. GENE Fine, take the fucking car. Its yours. Marcus grabs a CROWBAR off the workbench, SMASHES the side mirror. MARCUS This is my car! Huh? Mine? He BASHES the drivers side window. He goes around to the rear of the car, raises the crowbar again. Marcus then looks to Gene, who SHRUGS, unaffected. Henry comes JOGGING back to the garage, sees the broken glass. He RIPS the crowbar from Marcus hands. Marcus SITS heavily on the bumper of the car, triumphant. MARCUS (CONTD) (to Henry) Im taking the car. Gene said I could have it. Its mine. SEETHING with rage, Henry tries to speak but cannot. He glances over to Gene, who finishes his beer and stands up. Gene slowly approaches Marcus, KNOCKS the beer out of his hand, and lifts him up to standing. He PUNCHES Marcus. Henry GRIPS the crowbar nervously, unsure whether to join in. CUT TO BLACK.