INT: Julie’s bedroom. Morning.
Julie wakes up and rolls over. A loud snapping sound is heard as her shoulder moves itself back into place. A series of popping noises as she stands up and stretches.
Julie (VO): Blaharghayeechagaaah.
INT: Kitchen table. Julie is eating breakfast, Julie’s Mom is sitting at her laptop, absorbed in her sixty-sixth online crossword puzzle of the day.
Julie (J): I want to buy a new mattress.
Julie’s Mom (Ma): I heard they were saying you should get a new one every eight years.
J: Mine is 24 years old.
J: I’m not sure what size I should get. Any input?
J: Well, I want a bigger one, like a full or a queen. But then what should I do with my current bed?
J: I’m asking because, you know, you’re the one who bought me that bed when I was a kid. Do you want to keep it? Should I move it into Brother’s room?
J: I could put it in storage, I guess? Or donate it?
J: I could maybe put it in the backyard, set it on fire.
J: Does Dad still have that gasoline in the garage? For the lawnmower? I could use that as an accelerant, right?
Ma: Mmmm. Dad. Yes. He’s downstairs.
J: Okay, well, I’ll use the Ove Gloves just in case it gets hot. Have you seen his welder’s mask lately? It used to be on the workbench.
Ma:: Yuh? Mmmm.
J: Okay, well, I’ll be outside if you need me.
Ma: (Looking up). It’s so nice outside today!
So yeah. I want to buy a mattress. I’ve only been talking about it for a year, but I think this might be the weekend to do it. See, our forefathers intended us to celebrate their leadership of this fine nation by purchasing discounted furniture so everyone and their sister is having Mattress Closeouts! this weekend.
Wish me luck.