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sam kelly - after the internet part 1. lyrics

tires screech outside. dude 2 stands up. there’s a small crash outside

yelling

voice: freeze!

gunshots
the boy and dude 2 look at each other

some time later

int. porsche – day

the boy is driving through a road cocooned in trees, there are streetlights that are yet to be turned off at the morning sun bleaches out the night time. his hair is wet. his brown trousers, fur hat and sheep-skin coat are in a wet pile on the p-ssenger seat, he’s wearing a white striped polo and dark shorts, but they’re clean, they’re refreshing on his bruised skin. his boat shoes press against the pedal steadily. atop the pile of wet clothes is his phone, his vaporiser and his wallet they’re all too wet to be useful. the boy doesn’t look at his phone the entire time, he looks at the road, he smiles
after a while he’s driving towards a lake with small log cabins spread he sees a sign that says “camp gambino”

ext. camp gambino – day

the boy walks towards reception, he runs his (now dry) hands along a fractured railing made from a branch. he recognises the car park and looks nostalgic

the man
can i help you sir?

the boy
i’m just looking. it’s empty? what happened?

the man
we don’t open this time of year

the boy
can i look around?

the man

sir, where have you come from, you look in a bad way. do you need to use the phone?

the boy stares about to ask a question, then shakes his head

the man
do you have a phone?

the boy
no

the man
then how do you talk to people?

i do not talk…

the boy
what are we doing right now?

the man laughs, he understands the point he’s making

int. camp gambino lunch room – day

the man unlocks and then enters the room. the boy follows; above the door there is a sign on the wall that says “eat your vegetables” his silhouette dusky against the lettering. he runs his fingers across some scratches in one of the tables

“roscoe’s wetsuit”

ext. by the lake – afternoon

the boy walks down to the water and takes one of his shoes of, he then dips his foot in the water. he takes his foot out of the cool water and wipes in against his other leg

the man
i used to do the very same thing

the boy
“used to”?

the man
i realized it doesn’t get any warmer

they both laugh

ext. car park – afternoon

the man walks the boy to his car; he looks impressed because of the car and the boy’s age. it’s got a 1.6 litre engine, but it’s everybody knows it’s faster than that

the boy
i’ll be going then

the man
wait i’ll grab you a brochure in case you want to come back, or send your kid or something. if you have a kid

the boy
i won’t be coming back here, i’m going somewhere

the man
where are you going?

the boy
atlanta… then somewhere new. i like new places, i don’t like looking back on old places

the man looks on in disbelief; they both know he doesn’t fully mean that

the man
don’t forget to look behind you once in a while or you’ll forget how far you’ve come

————

the boy likes that sentiment. he gets in the car, puts a cd in and presses play. when the beat drops he drives away, as he drives away through the darkening streets he looks at his rear view mirror and smiles each time he does
int. camp gambino office – evening

the guestbook is open on one side the signatures are old, the page is filled with words and phrases scratched in with different coloured biro pens read they read-

“sick boi 4 lyf”
“pointdexter was here”
“donald sucks (from mich-lle xoxo)”
“we are royalty”
… and many more (some un-legible)

on the next page its clean, empty accept for one message; it reads-

“thank you camp gambino”

- sam kelly lyrics

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