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turning to page one
turning to page one
SETH and PETER sit in the back of the plush car as it struggles through traffic up town. SETH reaches into his bag and pulls out a large beer in a black paper bag. Their conversation is quiet, as if they are afraid someone might be listening.
SETH
You want one?
PETER
No.
PETER gives him a bit of a look.
SETH
What, we got them on our way to meet you
at the office... we didn’t know what the
fuck you wanted to talk about...
(almost to himself)
... thought you might’ve gotten some
chick pregnant or something.
PETER
I haven’t gotten laid in so long that’s
not possible at this point.
SETH
I guess that’s true.
PETER looks out the window at all the people on the street enjoying the Thursday night.
PETER
Look at these people.
SETH
What?
PETER
We are in here stressing our fucking
heads off that the world as we know it is
ending, and they’ve got no idea what’s
coming.
SETH’S demeanor sitting and drinking a beer doesn’t seem to project much in the way of stress.
PETER (cont’d)
Right?
SETH
I try not to let work get to me.
PETER
I’ve noticed that about you actually.
SETH
Look, we are twenty three years old...
PETER
Twenty-Seven.
SETH
Whatever, same thing, I made almost a
quarter of a million dollars last year...
on a computer screen, so a bunch of
glorified crack addicts could take that
information and pretend to understand it,
and then make a bet against some other
jock half way around the world who if he
wasn’t doing this would probably be in
some OTB somewhere putting it all on
number seven. And at the end of the day
one guy loses and the other guy wins.
PETER continues to look out the window in silence for a long beat. Then with a little sly humor and a smile to SETH:
PETER
You do know it’s a little more
complicated than that?
SETH’S phone starts playing a ring tone. He looks down at the text.
SETH
It’s Will... He wants to know if we’ve
found him? What do I tell him.
PETER
Tell him that we haven’t found him.