Roadside Prophets

Casper:
FREE FOOD FOR THE POOR!

Driver:
Where ya headed?

Joe Mosely:
Idaho... maybe Alaska.

Salvadore:
Lovely day. Bit warm to be sitting in the middle of the desert, though.

Sam:
I know. My friend broke down.

Salvadore:
Maybe I can help.

Sam:
Yeah, uh... what do you need?

Joe Mosely:
Eighth inch rivet.

Salvadore:
Well, I got a lot of fix-it paraphernalia back at my place.

Sam:
Got any beer?

Salvadore:
I've got some crystal.

Sam:
Wow! Speed?

Salvadore:
Champagne... and speed kills. Or worse... it makes you psychotic. People love it because it makes them feel like they're in control of their destiny. What you wanna be on the look-out for is transcendent reality; seeing in and seeing out.

Sam:
Oh.

Joe Mosely:
[the Sheriff is roughly restraining Sam by forcing his face on the ground with his boot] Officer, let him up. He's not hurting anyone.

Sheriff Quentin Durango:
[lets Sam go] But he could be. He bears a sinister resemblance to a vicious criminal that's been marauding the area.

Joe Mosely:
And since when is it a crime to look like somebody?

Sam:
Hey, what'd the guy do anyway?

Sheriff Quentin Durango:
Unlawful reposed and remove.

Sam:
What?

Sheriff Quentin Durango:
Dine and dash. I'm gonna let you go with a warning this time.

Joe Mosely:
He didn't do anything.

Sheriff Quentin Durango:
[aims a gun at Joe] You don't realize what's happening, do you? 'Cause if you did, you'd be shittin' in your shoes, wouldn't you? Quaking with fear? I want ya to look around, just look around, and tell me what you see. A society that's obsessed with feeling good and happy. But underneath that moronic veneer lurks a thirst for blood. Yes, my friend, an invidious potential for lawlessness and despair; existential and otherwise. The sooner you weasels open your eyes to the hideous truth, the sooner you wish you were dead.

Sam:
[pause] That guy is insane.

Casper:
So what do you guys do?

Sam:
We ride.

Casper:
Outlaws, huh?

Sam:
Yep. What about you?

Casper:
Me?... I'm symbionese.

Sam:
[confused] Cool... cool.

Othello:
Would any of you guys happen to have a roman candle on you?

Joe Mosely:
[bewildered] Uhhh...

Sam:
...yeah, I have one.

Othello:
Thanks.

Joe Mosely:
[stunned] Wh - ?

Ranger Bob:
[holding a plastic beer holder] Hey, why is this instrument of potential torture still in tact?

Sam:
What?

Ranger Bob:
It's your responsibility as campers, and honourable men on this planet, to cut through the connections of these nooses waiting to happen before discarding them in a proper refuse container.

Sam:
What the f*** are you talkin' about?

Celeste:
Oh, don't mind him. It's called gallows humour.

Sam:
Yeah, but is it funny?

Oscar:
Only if you're in love and waiting to die. My name's Oscar, this is my wife Celeste. I've got cancer, she's got AIDs.

Gloria:
You're just a couple of self-indulgent pussies burrowing into your own stupid little cocoons. You probably love that "don't worry, be happy" song.

Sam:
Hey, I hated that song.

Gloria:
There's a whole world changing out there. If you wanna die in the vine of the implying decline, it's up to you.

Labia Mirage:
All you got is yourself. And yourself is inside you body. And your body is your own.

Joe Mosely:
That's cool. That's really cool

Joe Mosely:
Hey, you want to come with me to El Dorado?

Labia Mirage:
[laughs] The legendary city of gold, conquistador?

Joe Mosely:
Yeah, I guess so.

Labia Mirage:
Maybe some other time. I got to stick to my schedule.

Joe Mosely:
Oh, yeah... Hey! Hey, Sam.

Sam:
Time to go!

Joe Mosely:
This is Miss Labia Mirage, and she's dancing her way to the Yukon.

Sam:
Time to get going.

Labia Mirage:
You know what they say, conquistador... stick with the one who can see the truth of your soul. Don't take any wooden nickels.

Joe Mosely:
You want life to mean something, and be real and stuff. But then you just get old... and get a job.