Pick Your Poison II: Where No Roads Go

Yule: Hey Jay? Remember when you broke your arm?

Jay: Yeah. That was a while ago. Why?

Yule: It scared me. I was worried your arm would never heal.

Jay: It's fine.

Yule: Good. You know, when that happened I was also kind of scared that I'd break my own arm.

Jay: Well I hope you never do.

Yule: Thanks, Jay.

Jay: No problem.

Yule: So...Christmas is coming up pretty fast.

Jay: Yes it is. You see they're already selling Christmas lights in stores.

Yule: Consumerism, huh?

Jay: Yep. Everybody's buy buy buy.

Yule: Anything you want for Christmas?

Jay: Nah. I'm good.

Yule: I'll figure something out.

Jay: Well just so you know, you don't have to.

Yule: I know. You don't either.

Jay: You know what I don't want, right?

Yule: What?

Jay: Another broken arm.

Yule: (laughs) No! Who'd want that?

Jay: Not me.

Yule: Maybe I would...Sometimes I think that maybe subconsciously I like pain.

Jay: What makes you say that?

Yule: Well, I don't know. I guess the life decisions I make. Sometimes I do things I know aren't in my best interest.

Jay: Like what, for example?

Yule: Like I poison myself a little each day.

Jay: You poison yourself? No you don't.

Yule: I do.

Jay: Well I do to. There you go; we're both poisoning ourselves. What do you use?

Yule: My poisons are meat and dairy products.

Jay: And my poisons are non-organic foods.

Yule: Your poison slowly kills your body.

Jay: Your poison slowly kills your soul.

Both: Together, we are dead. Mind, body, soul.

Yule: I want a cheeseburger.

Jay: I want a store-bought apple.

Both: What do we do? How many nooses will we tie around our necks? Lali-ho! Two strangers approach.

Calf: I'm an orphan, but it smells like my mom. It smells like my mom in your belly!

Organic Apple Tree: Why has everyone turned their back on me? Can't you see that I provide safe and healthy food?

Calf: I'm all alone. I'm alone and hungry.

Organic Apple Tree: Come, young cow, Take nourishment in the fruit that I bear.

Yule: I wish we could be like them.

Jay: Why? They're so sad!

Yule: Jay, if we were like them, then we wouldn't be like us. That means We never would have eaten the Calf's mom. We never would have forgotten about Organic Apple Trees.

Jay: So then -

Yule: Right. They'd have nothing to be sad about.

Jay: I wish we could change it. I wish we could undo what we have done.

Yule: Jay, I once had the power to go back in time. I could have changed this. But I lost that power when I ate my first cheeseburger.

Jay: If you'd never eaten that first cheeseburger, we wouldn't need to go back in time anyway.

Yule: That's technically true.

Jay: Hey Yule?

Yule: Yeah.

Jay: I know what I want for Christmas now.

Yule: What's that?

Jay: A new car.

Yule: A new car? Why?

Jay: So we can drive away from all of this poison. So we can drive away from all the sadness we've caused.

Yule: Ain't no roads that go that far, Jay. Ain't no roads.

Praint

Yvonne: Hey Ronald? Want to go to a party?

Ronald: Damn it! No! Get the F out of my way! I'm going to paint this house! Hey…where'd all my paint go?

Elsewhere…

Barnaby: Hey Mike. You know, if we didn't paint these yellow lines on the road I bet cars would drive right the F into each other. You ever think about that?

Mike: I do think about that, Barnaby. I think about that all the time. I think about it and I think about it but now matter how much I think and no matter how much I worry, the danger is still there. It's real and it's there. Like old bastard time himself, it is relentless. Because if we don't do our jobs… people die. I cannot think away the danger; it is immortal. I cannot ignore it either. It is in-your-face. And so…I must accept it. I must face the danger and conquer it with dash-after-dash of painted yellow line. And so must you. Now stop jerking me around, Barnaby and hand it over. How are we going to conquer this danger if you keep hiding all the paint?

Barnaby: (whispering in a scared tone) Um…Mike?... Mike… I…I didn't hide any paint.

And on the visual TV...

Reporter: We have some breaking news. Where'd all the paint go?

At a High School:

Corbin Mantruck: And so class, if you look outside, you'll see rain clouds. Rain clouds are part of our weather system.

Madison Street: Oooh! They're so pretty!

Corbin Mantruck: For today's lab on weather, I'd like you all to paint the clouds outside, using the materials provided.

Tommy Johnson: Ain't no paint, Mr. Mantruck.

Corbin Mantruck: But that's… impossible! Unless…. Class, you're dismissed. Read pages of the book for your homework tonight.

(the class leaves)

Corbin Mantruck: (mumbling to himself) When I theorized about this…nobody believed…..thought I was crazy….I thought I was crazy…

(Corbin Mantruck does some equations on the dry-erase board, using both hands to write, just like Leonardo Da Vinci used to)

Corbin Mantruck: Weather…has evolved.

Four Hours Later

(Corbin is on the phone)

Corbin Mantruck: No! It is not okay to put me on hold! I've been on hold for 3 hours! You've got to listen! Weather has evolved! It's not just water that evaporates anymore! Don't you see? Paint is evaporating too!

(Corbin is put on hold)

Corbin Mantruck: G DAMN it!

(Corbin slams down the phone. Just then, a doorbell rings. Corbin answers the door)

Walt Van Shorn: Mr. Mantruck? Hi. It's Walt Van Shorn? I called last week about doing a teacher profile on you for the school paper?

Corbin Mantruck: Right. Get the F inside, Walt. I've got something to tell you.

Walt Van Shorn: Alright. So…my first question-

Corbin Mantruck: No no no. Forget the questions. I like your jacket. I've got something urgent, Walt. I've got the biggest story since ever.

Walt Van Shorn: EVER?!?!

Corbin Mantruck: You watch the news, Walt? You hear about the disappearing paint?

Walt Van Shorn: Yeah, I heard about it. Why?

Corbin Mantruck: The sky.

Walt Van Shorn: Ummm…

Corbin Mantruck: I know. You think I'm crazy, right? But look outside. See those rain clouds? I was just talking about them in my class today. See how with the sunset, they look so beautiful with the oranges and reds and purples?

Walt Van Shorn: Yes….

Corbin Mantruck: Well tell me how the F that's possible, Walt, since the sun set FIVE F'ING HOURS AGO!!!

Walt Van Shorn: !!!! But…But it's supposed to rain tomorrow!

Corbin Mantruck: Bring your paint thinner!

Walt Van Shorn: But what do we do?

Corbin Mantruck: We die.

Walt Van Shorn: There's got to be something we can do.

Corbin Mantruck: Did you know, Walt, that humans are almost 62% water? Water. Not paint, Walt. Water.

Walt: So…so what's going to happen?

Corbin Mantruck: Paint rain. Paint rivers and lakes. Diluted paint oceans. Lead poisoning. Ruined houses. Drinking water becomes paint water. Huffing becomes yet a greater epidemic. An entire color spectrum of destruction.

Walt Van Shorn: Well we can't just give up!

Corbin Mantruck: Then don't. Me? I think I gave up a long time ago. Walt, I'm not a perfect man. I've struggled with drugs, extreme sports, alcohol, violence... I've fought all of those demons, and I've won. I'm still here. But I don't have another fight left in me, Walt. I'm tired. This raining paint thing is going to kill me. I just want to warn the public, sit back, and let the paint color me away.

Walt Van Shorn: With all due respect, Mr. Mantruck: Go to hell.

Corbin Mantruck: Goodbye, Walt. Please, make sure people know. Give them a fighting chance.

Walt Van Shorn: Goodbye, Mr. Mantruck.

Later:

Eve: My umbrella! It's ruined!

Ian: Paint fumes?! We're getting high on paint fumes! Quick run to the house!

Eve: I don't like this! I don't do drugs!

Ian: I said get to the house!

Later:

Walt (voiceover): On September 15^th, 2008, weather evolved. We weren't ready. Nobody was. Around the world, paint began to evaporate. In response, the world made more - more of the same poison that would soon change the face of this world forever, more of the wet, liquid killer. But the first praint storm didn't kill everyone. Like me, some found shelter. Now, we live our lives searching for streams and indoor pools with a fresh water supply. Water is our God now. But there are others, too. Those that couldn't find shelter quickly grew intoxicated by the praint fumes. Now, these paint-stained savages stumble and stagger throughout the streets, living in the daze of praint, they are hungry and violent. With a lazy and methodical rage, they attack anyone that gets near them. So we hide. We hide from the praint, hide from the Huffers, hide from the grim reality that comes in every thick and sticky color. Sometimes I think that maybe Corbin Mantruck was right to give up. He wasn't alone. People give up every day, walking into the praint and embracing its fumes. Me? Most days I still have hope. That hope keeps me fighting. One day, maybe we can analyze the DNA of weather. And maybe, if there are enough scientists left, scientists that haven't given in to the praint or the huffers, maybe we can find a way to take that DNA and take out the paint evaporating gene. I live for that day