Front seat of a moving vehicle on a rainy highway at night.
TIM, 50, has a comb over and is dressed in a suit. His shoes seem brand new, but his jacket seems a little too big for him. A pocket watch hangs out of his breast pocket.
GUTHRIE, 30, has long black hair and a shaggy beard. He wears a raggedy pair of old jeans and no T-shirt. An image of a Sierpinski gasket is tattooed onto his chest and a guitar string hangs from his nose.
TIM is driving in the middle of the night when he sees GUTHRIE standing by the side of the road. TIM drive past GUTHRIE without even hesitating. Moments later, it begins to rain and TIM glances down at his pocket watch. Exhaling slowly, TIM turns the car around and drives back towards GUTHRIE. TIM stops the car in front of GUTHRIE and rolls down his window.
TIM: Where you heading?
GUTHRIE: I don’t really know. How do you get to know where your going?
TIM: (Pause) Do you want a ride?
GUTHRIE: I want to get out of this rain.
TIM: Then hop on in.
GUTHRIE climbs into the passenger’s seat of the car. TIM puts the car into drive and continues on into the night.
GUTHRIE: So, what kind of person picks up a hitchhiker in the middle of the night?
TIM: I don’t know. You reminded me of someone.
GUTHRIE: Someone who doesn’t wear a shirt in a rainstorm?
TIM: No. He used to wear a shirt.
GUTHRIE: To me, wearing a shirt is like to be born again. But to live is to be in pain. How do you feel about that?
TIM: I honestly don’t know. Hadn’t thought about things that way before. Do you mind if I cut my hair?
GUTHRIE: While driving?
GUTHRIE: No worries, man. (Pause) No worries.
TIM pulls a pair of scissors out of his pocket and proceeds to cut his hair while driving. GUTHRIE turns on the radio and the sound of country music emits from the speakers. TIM turns off the radio.
GUTHRIE: No me gusta country?
TIM: You know what?
TIM: The someone you remind me of isn’t actually a someone. He’s a puppet.
GUTHRIE: That’s kinda awesome. I love puppets.
TIM begins to cough, a loud dry hacking cough.
TIM: Yeah, puppets are pretty great.
A piece of TIM'S hair falls into GUTHRIE'S lap.
GUTHRIE: Dude, you gonna keep on cutting your hair?
TIM: I like the feeling. Does it bother you?
GUTHRIE: No, not at all.
GUTHRIE begins to look out the window of the car, towards the night’s sky.
GUTHRIE: Have you ever though about how everything that the stars shine down on is fleeting? That the light from those stars is the future and that we are the past. Where is the present, man? Where is the present?
TIM: I just like to cut my hair. That’s all. That’s my present.
The pair drive past an automotive accident.
GUTHRIE: What was that?
GUTHRIE: You ever make hot chocolate as a kid?
TIM: Always had a soft spot for the peppermint kind.
GUTHRIE: That was some great shit.
TIM: It really was.
TIM and GUTHRIE pass another roadside accident.
GUTHRIE: Another one.
GUTHRIE: Really raining, huh?
TIM stops cutting his hair and drops his scissors. They land on the floor.
GUTHRIE: You done?
TIM: No, just taking a break.
TIM: I guess it does.
A silence fills the car.
GUTHRIE: Do you want to know how I got this tattoo?
TIM: Not really.
GUTHRIE: You sure? It’s an interesting tale.
TIM: I’m OK.
TIM: I’m fucking sure.
TIM turns on the radio. “Somewhere over the Rainbow” begins to play.
TIM: You ever go puddle stomping?
GUTHRIE: Of course.
GUTHRIE: Bad cough?
GUTHRIE: Last time I heard a cough like that... well, it was under very different circumstances.
TIM: What is that supposed to mean?
GUTHRIE: I don’t know. You’re the one that cuts his own hair.
TIM: I do it because I like the feeling. That’s all.
GUTHRIE begins to fidget with the guitar string hanging from his nose.
GUTHRIE: Do you ever wonder what evil looks like?
TIM turns the steering wheel violently. Their car barely misses being in an accident.
GUTHRIE: Another one.
TIM: I used to race cars, you know?
TIM: Yeah. I enjoyed it. I really it.
Sound of brakes screeching. Vehicle swerves. Lights out. Sound of a loud crash.