BRO: I am creating an atmosphere.

Pause.

GIB: Cass, will you talk to him?

CASS: About what?

GIB: About what he’s doing with a gun. And about—whatever it is—not doing it.

SUZANNE: Because you’re the one who can talk to him.

BRO (to SUZANNE): You always could talk to me pretty good.

TV: Let’s all settle down. Stay tuned for Late Night with Conan O’Brien. (BRO points the gun at TV.) I’m not talking. (BRO thumbs back the hammer.) Sorry. Sorry. Sorry.

GRANDMA: It’s not loaded.

TV: I knew that. Go ahead. Do your worst. (As popcorn takes off:) Popcorn, anyone?

SUZANNE: That’s one of those new tvs!

BRO yanks the trigger and the gun goes off and TV explodes. Everybody shouts and the dog says yeow-wow!

BRO: GOD! Sorry! Sorry! Sorry sorry sorry. Grammaw!…Aaaaaah…(To SUZANNE:) When you wouldn’t take me back it made me want to binge on whiskey till my liver quit.

GIB: When was this? Did you—did he contact you?

SUZANNE: Gib. I think—Well, he wrote a letter…

CASS pries the gun from BRO’s fingers, unloads it, places gun and bullets on counter in kitchen. Meanwhile:

BRO: I wrote, I phoned, I did every damn thing, and now I’m here to be at the wedding.

GIB: You won’t be.

BRO: I been ringing your phone off the hook at the Trails Park trailer park. Talking to your machine.

GIB: And did she answer? Did you answer? And get it straight, it’s not a trailer park. I wouldn’t put her in one. Did she answer is all I want to know.

SUZANNE: No! I—No I did not!

GIB: You just said five minutes ago you didn’t know where he was—

SUZANNE: I didn’t want to muddy the waters, Gib.

GIB: You thought you’d keep things clear. By covering things up.

BRO: Suzu, Suzu—

SUZANNE: Su-zanne—

GIB: HALT! CEASE FIRE! (Pause.) Let me just go over the not-invited list. You are not invited, and you are not invited, and you are not invited—to my wedding. Over and out. (To SUZANNE:) You are still invited.

SUZANNE: Thanks.

GIB: But we’re rapidly getting to where I really don’t give a shit.

SUZANNE: Look, I love you.

GIB: Did you say “Luke, I love you”?

SUZANNE: “Look”! “Look”! Not “Luke”! I love you.

GIB: You’re faking. I can tell you’re faking. The minute you laid eyes on him you went all fake on me.

BRO: See? Other people can see it.

GIB: Do you know what?…Where’s the damn phone book!

He starts searching.

BRO (to SUZANNE): We made something that—Okay!

CASS (prompting him): What you’re doing here is important—

GIB: Listen, Simple: will you butt out?

BRO: Yeah, and it’s so long ago I can hardly feel it, and you can hardly feel it—but it’s like a structure that…contains us, and—

SUZANNE: Structure.

BRO: Kind of like monkey bars.

CASS: Kind of like a cage.

BRO: No—you can climb around on them.

SUZANNE: Kind of like a monkey.

BRO:—and I don’t think we should just wreck it.