GIB: I’m not his translator.

CASS: I think he means he’s not talking to anybody these days. In other words he ain’t verbal.

GRANDMA’S VOICE (from her room): Don’t you dare! Luke! You were not raised to ransack people’s quarters!

CASS exits toward the voices, leaving GIB and SUZANNE alone. They embrace. She caresses his crotch.

SUZANNE: Wow, you got a nice pancho packed with wowsers!

GIB: You make me crazy.

She kisses him hungrily. He draws back.

GIB: This is all about his butt, isn’t it?

Voices off distract them:

GRANDMA’S VOICE: Come back here with that thirty-two, young feller!…That’s a lady’s gun!

BRO enters, CASS following.

GIB: What gun?

GRANDMA comes in, too.

GRANDMA: Hi! It’s the newlyweds! The soon-to-be’s, I mean to say.

SUZANNE: Good evening, Mrs. Cassandra.

GIB: What…gun.

GRANDMA: Now, listen. If you each of you just decide, with your mind, each of you, to give more than you get, you’ll be a blessing to each other forever.

GIB: Uh…

GRANDMA: Forever!

GIB: Thank you.

GRANDMA: It’s that simple.

GIB AND SUZANNE: Thanks. Thank you.

GRANDMA: You hear me?

GIB AND SUZANNE: Sure. Yes, thank you—

GRANDMA: That’s all you need to know.

CASS: I owe you guys a present, huh? I just got back to town—

GRANDMA: Mark my words! I’m old! I know my stuff!

GIB AND SUZANNE: Thanks. Okay. No problem…

CASS: I’m kinda, you know—working something up—

SUZANNE: Actually, we came to disinvite you.

CASS: Disinvite me?

GIB: You weren’t invited.

BRO: Suzu—

SUZANNE: Suzanne.

BRO: Was I invited? Suzu?

GIB: Hell, no.

SUZANNE: How could we invite you or not invite you? We didn’t even know where you were.

BRO: Okay. But under the new conditions—

SUZANNE: As far as we knew, nobody knew.

GIB: No. You’re not invited.

BRO:—under the new, improved circumstances—(Dog starts barking.)—that is, with me actually here now—Shut up, will you?

DOG: Bark! bark! bark! bark! bark! bark! bark! bark! bark! bark!

GIB (turning on the dog): Yeah! The little Chihuahua dog’s going to make a speech! (Dog quiets.)

Meanwhile BRO draws a small revolver from his pants pocket and aims it at the back of GIB’s neck.

GIB: How old exactly is that little Chihuahua dog anyways?

Nobody answers.

GIB turns around and finds the gun pointed at his nose. Pause.

GIB: Aw…this is too trailer-park for me.

BRO: I thought you lived in a trailer park.

GIB: We live in the Trails Park Subdivision. A community of very nicely constructed homes. We have a basement.

BRO: Am I supposed to start burning with envy?

For a couple seconds they’re distracted by GRANDMA, who heads for the kitchen area.

BRO: Grandma—

GRANDMA: What, Luke?

BRO: What is the deal?

GRANDMA: Well, I’m thinking some microwave popcorn and whatever you all would—

BRO: Damn. Hey. (As CASS hits the remote and turns on TV:) Hey!

TV: The president has called for calm. He met this afternoon in the Oval Office with advisors from—

BRO: Hey!

CASS hits the mute.