Picky
written by: Zach Zajac
@zakzakzajac
CAST
GERALD: A picky eater lost in the woods.
BRIAN: His brother.
(BRIAN sits on a large rock, attempting to light a small pile of sticks on fire with a broken match. GERALD lays against a tree in agony.)
GERALD
(Whining)
I’m so hungry. I feel like I’m gonna pass out.
BRIAN
(Rolling his eyes)
You’ve been saying that since we got lost.
GERALD
I know that. I’ve been starving since we got lost.
BRIAN
(Gesturing to the backpack lying beside him)
I keep telling you there are granola bars in my bag. Eat one if you’re really that hungry.
GERALD
(Snapping)
And I keep telling you that I can’t.
BRIAN
(Mumbling)
Yeah, yeah, yeah.
GERALD
It hurts my teeth.
BRIAN
(With a sigh)
I don’t think this is really a time to be picky.
GERALD
(Offended)
Picky? I am not picky. I am a sensitive man with a sensitive body.
BRIAN
(Frustrated, he throws the unlit match into the sticks)
Mhm.
GERALD
It’s not my fault I have very specific dietary restrictions.
BRIAN
(Standing)
I don’t know, man. Our options are kinda limited at the moment.
(GERALD grabs his stomach in pain.)
GERALD
(Moaning)
I feel like I’m gonna die.
BRIAN
If you’re that hungry, why don’t you try foraging? I’m sure there’s some berries or something around here.
GERALD
(Offended)
Berries? Are you serious?
BRIAN
What’s wrong with berries? Do they hurt your teeth too?
GERALD
No.
BRIAN
Great.
GERALD
They give me heartburn.
BRIAN
Dude, we’re stranded out here.
GERALD
Exactly! If I get heartburn, there’s nothing I can do about it. I’d just have to sit there and suffer.
BRIAN
(Shaking his head)
Fine. We’ll go hunting.
GERALD
Hunting?
BRIAN
Once I get this fire lit, we’ll go kill a deer or something.
(GERALD’s eyes grow wide with horror.)
GERALD
A deer?!
BRIAN
What the hell is wrong with hunting for a deer? Don’t tell me they give you stomach cramps or something.
GERALD
(Indignant)
I just think deer hunting is wrong.
BRIAN
What the hell are you talking about? You eat meat all the time.
GERALD
I don’t think it’s wrong because of the meat. I think it’s wrong because of the deer. I mean, we’re talking about killing Bambi’s mom, dude. We can’t do that.
BRIAN
How is deer different from any other meat? You don’t think cows have moms, too?
GERALD
Oh, please. Everyone knows that cows are evil creatures that have it coming. Can’t we hunt one of them?
BRIAN
A cow?
GERALD
Yeah, I’m sure we can find a wild one.
BRIAN
(Boiling)
There is no such thing as wild cows, Gerry. It’s a deer or nothing.
GERALD
(Shaking his head furiously)
Then I refuse to participate in your base barbarism.
BRIAN
(Exploding)
Then I don’t know what you want me to do! You keep saying you’re hungry, but, for some reason, you can’t eat anything! What do you want me to do, Gerry?! What do you want me to do?
GERALD
(Icy)
Get me food.
BRIAN
That’s it. I’m done, man. You’re on your own. You can figure out what the hell you’re gonna eat by your damn self.
(BRIAN truns to storm off. As he does, a stray branch sticking out of his would-be campfire snags his tattered pant leg and sends him tumbling down. His head strikes the rock he had been using as a seat. GERALD looks on in shock as BRIAN’s twitching body slowly becomes still.)
GERALD
(Crawling to the corpse)
Brian? Brian, are you okay?
(BRIAN lays motionless. Silence. A hungry smile stretches across GERALD’s face.)
GERALD
Finally. Dinner time.
THE END.
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