Nothing Something Homecoming

"Oh, dude, check it out. I used most of these street names for characters in my story."

"Yeah, those are good names. Right there, boom: Ryan Delany."

"Yup, I already used both of those."

"How's that story going anyway? Have you worked on it at all lately?"

"It's overwhelming sometimes. You have to be dead on, for hours at a time, and it's tough to get the intensity flowing just like that. I need some help."

"I could help you. Let's tag-team it. I know I never asked you about your writing stuff before, but can I look?"

"For sure, that's cool."

"I mean, half the battle is just seeing the world in a certain tapestry kind of way, and you already know how to do that."

"Hell yeah, I love words. It's like picking colors for a painting: They're all right there."

"Well, you need to just focus your energies and get it done."

"I looked into this writer's commune in Lake Bluff a couple months ago, but you need like 150 pages and I'm stuck on about 70."

"That sucks."

"It's hard to find large chunks of time these days, and I don't want to do a Dan Brown mind candy pile of crap."

"Yeah, who wants that guy's legacy?"

"Not me. I mean, I'd take the money -- don't get me wrong -- but what a shit writer. Did you go to the movies at all over there?"

"We thought about going to 'Da Vinci Code' but we did something else. Where are the theaters anyway?"

"Right near St. Peter's, where you get off the bus."

"Oh. Maybe I'll go when I get back. I want to go back every five years."

"I said the same thing; I'm coming up on it next year, and it's my thirtieth. We should go. That was just an ok movie, by the way, nothing special, not much different than the book. Hey, will you come check out this improv class with me? Nobody ever wants to go. I think it'd help."

"Why not, man? I'd go with you to scope it out. Where is it?"

"Right by Wrigley, on Clark."

"I bet there's some cute wannabe actress chicas there. Do they pull people up on stage and shit?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe. Wednesday nights are the intro classes' performances. No cover, $2 domestic bottles. Let's bring those girls from last night."

"Fuck yeah, I'll do that. I'd get up there on stage in a heartbeat."

"Would you really? Just like that?"

"Are you kidding me? It's like the law, my man. You get up there with your shit as prepared as can be, and you just run with it. Lawyers are really actors in disguise."

"That's true."

"Totally true."

"Also, there's this Spike sitcom contest. It's only like 30 pages, maybe a few thousand words at the most. We could knock that shit out in an afternoon."

"That's cool."

"Really fucking cool. Let's do it."

"Oooh. Now that you mention it, know who you should call?"

"Jerry."

"Yeah, dude, call Jerry. He's always got a million projects going."

"What should I say to him? 'Hi, Jerry, it's Pat. Let's write a screenplay'?"

"I guess, or something like that. Why the hell not? He's a cool cat. Give him a ring. Mom's probably got his number somewhere."

"I already have his number. Uncle Chris told me to call him a few months ago, but I keep stalling."

"Do it up, b-snatch. You can do it. Fuck that shizzle."



Welcome home, little bro.