The American Dream
INT. PROGRESSIVE HOUSEHOLD, KITCHEN – EVENING
MOM(34) is sitting at the kitchen table in front of her laptop. She’s holding a half-eaten slice of pizza in one hand while tapping on her keyboard with the other.
The door opens, and DAD(35) comes in. He looks a little haggard as he takes off his long coat.
Hey honey. I’m home.
Oh, you look rough. How was work today?
Dad hangs his coat over the back of a kitchen chair before plopping down in the seat.
Miserable. Just miserable. Let me tell you about
it. I got fired, the car broke down, and that
energy company we invested in went belly up.
Mom puts her slice of pizza down and closes her laptop. Her attention is now fully on Dad.
Does this mean what I think it means?
Dad can no longer contain himself. A big grin spreads across his face.
Sure does. It’s time to spend our way out of debt!
Mom, grinning ear-to-ear, jumps up.
I’ll get my purse!
Dad hops out of his own chair.
I’ll get the credit cards!
Just before they both run off, Mom touches Dad’s elbow, stopping him.
Oh, honey. Before I forget, the Jones family down the
road is on hard times. They sure could use some money.
No sweat. We’ll just take out a new credit card in
our kid’s name and cut them a big, fat check.
Mom hugs dad. It’s a lingering hug, full of warmth and affection.
Aren’t we the bestest, smartest, most progressive family ever!
We sure are, honey. We sure are.
FADE TO BLACK.