Mojave Phone Booth

Beth:
[first lines - phone conversation over scenes of cassette tape litter] Where does it come from, ya know? Seriously, what's on it? You ever wonder about that?

Greta:
Mmm, not really.

Beth:
Maybe just a desert phenomenon; I don't know. A desert road phenomenon.

Alex:
[tears tape out of cassette and throws it out the car window]

Beth:
In theory you should be seeing less of it, right? With the popularity of digital and all. But there seems to be more of it now than ever. All over the place.

Greta:
Maybe it's because the tape is out-dated. Because everything *is* going digital.

Beth:
Yeah. It's weird though. It seems like it's always been there. As long as I can remember. What about the pieces that are thrown away on purpose? What exactly is on that, ya know? We're just assuming it's either bad music or bad home movies. What if there's something on it we're *supposed* to know about.

Greta:
Or not know about...

Beth:
Or could it be something even more extraordinary? Something beyond even our comprehension?

Richard:
[driving along drinking from a liquor bottle]

Greta:
Such as?

Beth:
Communication. [scenes of tape fragments falling from the sky] What if some civilization peered in on us when we were at the height of using magnetic tape, seeing that we used it to relay information. What if this is the media they're using to contact us? It's just coming to us know as we move past the means to read it. What if these little ribbons are clusters of cosmic... leaflets.

Greta:
Beth... you still there?

Beth:
Yeah. Sorry.

Greta:
Have you tried talking with Tim about this?

Beth:
He always reaches the same conclusion.

Greta:
Which is?

Beth:
That I should just move in with him. 'would solve everything.

Greta:
And what do you think?

Beth:
I think... I'm bothered by all this tape.

Greta:
Have you ever considered a removable face?

Beth:
I'm not sure how I'm supposed to feel about that. I have actually. But that would mean they won. I refuse to let them think they're better than me.

Beth:
Sometimes when we look for the answers, we only end up creating more questions. But maybe that's just the way it is.

Greta:
Or maybe that's the way it needs to be.

Greta:
Could it actually be the sound of an alien craft?

Alex:
It sounds more like an alien *crap*.

[last lines]

Beth:
You can talk to me. I'll listen.

Richard:
Jesus, I thought my life was sh*t.

Alex:
I suppose everyone's is. It's just a question of how high the pile.

Richard:
What about you, Barry? Married or something?

Barry:
Only to fun.

Barry:
You inspired me, Richard. Made me realize a lot.

Richard:
Like what?

Barry:
How fortunate I am that I have nothing in my life that in any way, shape, or form resembles a wife.