Short 2

A scene from Jay and Sam

The Breath

Sam leans against her son’s dresser, her arms crossed over her chest. She watches as her seven-year old son attempts to clean his room.

Cory: Aw, come on. My legs are not working. I need juice to fuel me (slides across the wood flooring).

Sam: Oh, yeah. Then you better hurry up before your sister drinks it all. I think she’s on her third bottle.

Cory: NO! (slides to the left and the right picking up dirty laundry and toys).

Jay: (comes in with one of the juice bottles.) What you doing?

Sam: Making sure he cleans his room. Why do you have that?

Cory: (stops throwing clothes and toys into the laundry basket to ogle the bottle).

Jay:  (chugs the bottle) Yum.

Cory: Hey, what the fart. Mom, he drinking all the juice.

Sam: Not cool. That was for the kids.

Jay: It’s still some in here (shakes the bottle). See.

Cory: Can I have some? I’m done cleaning.

Sam: Hmm, I don’t think so. You’re already hyper.

Cory: Mooooom, please.

Jay: Yeah, mom, please.

Sam: (glares at Jay) I don’t know, Cory. Your ro…


Sam: (sighs, shaking her head) Are you done?

Cory: (nods)

Sam: Good. As I was saying your room is still junky and plus…

Jay: This is the last one.

Cory: What the pee pots, come on. Mom?

Sam: (sighs, facepalm forehead) Jay, that wasn’t nice. Now you have to give him some.

Jay: (wraps his arms around her, bringing her close to him) Okay, after you give me a kiss.

Cory: Eww, no. And it is clean. See. See (points to a clutter room).

Sam: (turns her head away from Jay) Gross. You could’ve brush your teeth first.

Jay: It’s easier to drink something fruity.

Sam: It is not (waves her hand in front of his face).

Cory: I want to smell.

Sam: You’re asking for a punch in the nose.

Jay: (laughs) No, he’s not ( blows his breath in Cory’s face).

Cory: Aww, come on. That smell like poo-poo.

Sam and Jay: (laughs hard)

Cory: You can have the juice (leaves the room).

Jay: (turns back to Sam, raising his eyebrows up and down) Now it’s just me… (pucks lips) and you.

Sam: (wiggles pass him) You’re sick, man.

Jay: What?

Sam: Brush your teeth, lazy (leaves the room).

Jay: (shrugs with a huge smile then chugs the rest of the juice) Suit yourself.

Cory: (enters then slams a Febreze bottle on his dresser.) Here. Mom said this is some powerful defense against stinky stuff. Use it, please.

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