Inside a bar. At a train station. Or

not. There’s an urn on the table next

to the Man, who sits sipping a drink.

MAN

My father was a rat bastard. A real A#1 prick dick bitch. I

never even met him. He left my mother right when I was born.

As soon as she got home from the hospital. We lived in this

rundown apartment complex called the CopperChase Club. He

dropped her at the door, gave me a kiss, went to go park the

Tercel, and never came back. The only set of apartment keys

still on the key-ring in the car ignition. She had to get

the Super to let her in with her newborn son. He’s actually

my step-dad now. The Super. $127 to her name. Wearing

nothing but a weathered sundress and jelly shoes. Arms full

of this little chubby sack of wrinkly old-man flesh. That’s

me.

DUDE

I get it.

MAN

I pissed away my whole childhood pining for my dad. Suffered

like Christ. Then my mother confessed that my dad was also

my grandpa, if you get that. Yeah. Incestuous bastard.

Finally I tracked him down and found his new family. Then he

up and died and left everything to them. So like I said, he

was a mammoth dick rag fuck.

DUDE

(indicating urn)

That him?

MAN

Yeah.

DUDE

So if you’re dad’s your grandpa, does that mean your mom is

your sister too?

MAN

Yeah.

DUDE

Isn’t that the plot of the movie Chinatown?

MAN

Art imitates Life.

(he sips his drink)

Also, he wrote that movie. The new family wanted his ashes,

but I paid for the funeral, so he’s mine.

(to the urn)

You worthless crotch lick. You owe me 6000 bucks.

DUDE

How’d he die?

MAN

Explosive flaming arrow straight to the chest. His ribcage

blew open, and his head was all jangling everywhere but still

attached. Like when the liquid metal Terminator gets blasted

at the end of the 2nd movie. Right before he falls in the

lava.

DUDE

Jesus. How was he near a flaming arr–

MAN

It was prostate cancer.

(to urn)

Asshole.

DUDE

Wow.

MAN

I’ve sold the ashes.

DUDE

You–

MAN

Ebay. 213 bucks. Plus shipping. Fuck him. To Roderick

Brewster of Willamon, Pennsylvania.

GIRL

3052 Castle Peak Boulevard?

MAN

Uhhh. Yeah.

DUDE

Is that legal?

GIRL

(to herself)

Of course he did.

MAN

You know him?

DUDE

You can’t sell body parts. Or people.

GIRL

He’s my father.

MAN

Is he cool?

GIRL

He makes jewelry out of cremated remains and sells it.

DUDE

That’s not slavery? Human trafficking?

MAN

(to DUDE)

What?

DUDE

Selling people. Their remains.

MAN

(to DUDE)

Shut up.

(to GIRL)

So who buys the fucking jewelry?

GIRL

Well lots of people turn their dead relatives into jewelry

and shit. It’s a big industry. You can make snow globes out

of them. Coral reefs. Even fireworks. But my Dad just

makes gemstones outta his dead people and sells ‘em to goth

kids and wannabe vampires. True Blood? Twilight? It’s a

gold mine for fetishists.

MAN

Teenagers are sick fucks.

DUDE

He makes a lot of money doing this?

GIRL

He’s loaded. He practically owns Willamon, Pennsylvania.

And he acts like it too. You’re getting fleeced.

MAN

Huh?

GIRL

You’re dad really wrote Chinatown?

MAN

Co-wrote. Yeah.

GIRL

And that cheap shit only paid $213? You’re getting robbed.

You could get at least $5000 for quality ashes like that. I

know a guy.

MAN

Fuck do I care? It’s not about the money.

GIRL

It would pay for the funeral.

DUDE

I’ll buy him.

MAN

Who the fuck are you?

DUDE

Just a bargain hunter, looking to make a quick buck.

MAN

Well fuck you Buck Hunter. I don’t want some shithead tween

wearing my dad around his neck at a Marilyn Manson concert.

DUDE

(to MAN, taking out money)

I think you’re full of shit. I’ll give you 500. Cash. Right

now.

MAN

Fuck you.

DUDE

A thousand.

MAN

Fuck. You.

DUDE

Just take the money you stubborn git.

DUDE slaps the money down and reaches

for the Urn. There is a struggle. It

gets knocked over. The contents spill

on the ground.

MAN

DADDY!!!

Emotionally distraught, MAN gets on his

knees and tries to sweep his

father’s/grandfather’s remains back

into the urn.

DUDE

(to GIRL)

I thought he was lying. I’m sorry man. Keep it.

DUDE exits.

GIRL

(kneeling to help sweep him up)

He really wrote Chinatown?

MAN

Co-wrote. Yeah.

GIRL

And really abandoned you as a newborn?

MAN

And that’s the last time I kissed my father on the mouth.

THE END

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