Scene: The dining room. There is a desktop to the side of the room against the wall. Sections of a newspaper are scattered across the circular dining table. Cody, a boy of seventeen, is typing on the desktop. Cody has dyed black hair, lime green nail polish, and a nose ring, and an eyebrow stud. His friend, Kendi, a dark blond and blue-eyed girl of sixteen, is standing behind Cody as he reads the article on the computer. Cody clearly looks appalled as his mouth twists in horror and disgust. Cody reads the article out loud.

Cody: (reading) A wasp called the tarantula hawk reproduces by paralyzing tarantulas and laying its eggs into their bodies. When the larvae hatch, they devour the still living spider from the inside out.

There is a pause as Cody makes a disgusted face and Kendi laughs at his reaction.

Cody: (Shocked and exaggerated) That is so fucked up!

Kendi: No kidding.

Cody: So they just eat it?

Kendi: From the inside out.

Cody: That is so FUCKED UP!

Cody then proceeds to log on to Google images and view pictures of the fucked up thing. Kendi goes back to reading the newspaper at the dining table.

Cody: Can you imagine if they laid eggs in a human?

Kendi: Why would you even think about that?

Cody: Just saying. I mean, what if it was you who was eaten alive from the inside out? What do you think of that?

Kendi: (looks up from newspaper) I think that’s a painful way to die.

Cody: What else would you prefer?

Kendi: Something less… gruesome.

Cody: Like in your sleep?

Kendi: Yeah. In my sleep. When I’m ninety.

Cody: What was that quote your dad used to tell us?

Kendi: The one about the grandpa and the passengers?

Cody: Yeah, that one.

Kendi: When I die, I wanna die like grandpa, in his sleep. Not screaming like the passengers in his car.

Cody: (laughs) You know, the first time he told us that, it took me like five minutes to figure it out.

Kendi: You got it eventually.

Cody looks like he is getting bored on the computer. He backs the computer chair.

Cody: All yours, Kendi.

Cody hops off the rolling chair and turns his attention to one of the newspaper sections on the table. Kendi gets up and checks her e-mail on the desktop.

Cody: Hey, guess what?

Cody is pointing at something he is reading in the newspaper.

Kendi: What?

Cody: This chick named Fairy Pugh died. She had eight kids.

Kendi: (winces) Goddamn.

Cody: I know. Who names their kid, Fairy?

Kendi: I was talking about the eight kids.

Cody: Oh. Well their names were screwed up too. Bunchie, Lulu—

Kendi: I meant HAVING eight kids. That’d be painful as hell.

Cody: Oh yeah. That’s bad too. (Pause) This guy, Buddy McCullers, he was ninety-seven. He was an avid fisherman.

Kendi: That’s nice.

Cody: I think it’s sad.

Kendi: Why?

Cody: He lived to ninety-seven and all he’s known for is that he was an avid fisherman. You think they could at least find something more.

Kendi: Maybe there wasn’t much else to say.

Cody: Maybe.

Cody begins to tap his ring on the table. The tapping softens when he starts to speak.  

Cody: What did it say in your dad’s obit?

Kendi: Nothing much. He was from South Carolina, he was a good father, a good teacher fostered over thirty kids in his lifetime, survived by his wife, his brother, and his daughter. Stuff like that.

Cody: Did you write it?

Kendi: No, my mom did.

Kendi clicks on another link in her e-mail.

Kendi: Cody, listen to this quote. “Memory is the place where our vanished days secretly gather.”

Cody: That’s cool. What does it mean?

Kendi: I’m not sure if it means anything. I think it’s a definition.

Cody: Of memory?

Kendi: Yeah.

Cody reads a little bit more of the newspaper before speaking. Kendi continues to type and click on the computer.

Cody: Ken, can I ask you a serious question?

Kendi: Sure.

Cody: If you had to write my obituary, what would you say?

Kendi pauses and clearly shows she is thinking about the question.

Kendi: He was a weird kid, but the kind you always had to have around.

Cody: That’s it?

Kendi: He liked to wear mismatched clothes just for the hell of it. He could be loud and obnoxious when he put his mind to it. He annoyed you with his references to bad 80s movies and his constant need to break out singing Bjork and Cher. But all in all, he was a good friend.

Cody: Aww…

Kendi: Your turn. What would you say in my obit?

Cody: Nothing.

Kendi: Why?

Cody: ’Cause there’s no way in hell you’re dying before me.

Kendi: That’s sweet. But seriously, what would you say?

Cody taps his ring a few more times before answering.

Cody: She was amazing. If you didn’t know that when she was alive, that’s too bad.

Kendi smiles and clicks on another link in her e-mail.

Kendi: Dude, check this out.

Cody: What is it?

Kendi: A bot fly larvae.

Cody gets up and stands behind Kendi to see the image. Cody’s face twists into the same expression he had in the beginning.

Cody: It just feeds on you?

Kendi: Yeah.

Cody: That is so fucked up.

Lights fade. End Scene.