Planning

Three friends, who live different lifestyles, plan their yearly vacation.

Three men (in their late twenties) sit around a table, looking over a map.

GEORGE, dressed in corduroy trousers and chequered shirt, leans back on his chair sighing deeply.

George

Well I'm Somerset county born an' bred and I proud

of that. So I say the countryside.

CECIL stands up, stretches and straightens his posh designer suit.

BRAD runs his hand through his hair repeatedly, looking cool.

Cecil

Oh yeah, because you can't read or write

George

No cos I can drive a tractor.

George imitates driving a tractor, swerving in the chair.

George

Anyway just cos you a townie, or as I say, a smog boy.

(waving finger)

I caught you sniffing the exhaust of me Morris Minor.

Cecil (scoffs)

I was merely catching my breath.. ...Anyhow I like my
minimalistic, feng shui, sophisticated lifestyle.

George

Minimalistic. Minimalistic, is it. I just thought you
couldn't afford nowt cos you paid half a million for a
glorified airing cupboard.

Cecil sits back down, pulling on his cuffs.

Cecil

Well my airing cupboard has a garden.

George

Is that what there calling three blades of grass and
a dandelion now is it. I got more than that in my privy.

Cecil

(staring down at the table)

Bradley. Inform our friend here that it costs money to have a

standard of living.

Brad

The names Brad....dude. And my accommodation cost less

than a grand.

Cecil

Oh yes. I forgot. How is your orange tin on wheels.

Brad

(pauses, whilst thinking)

Technically, just an orange tin now I swapped the wheels. ...

But I got a lovely tub of wax for me board.

Cecil puts his head in his hands, distraught.

Cecil

How could mummy and Daddy let me stay in a dorm with you two.

George leans over the table and pats him on the back.

George

Cos mummy and daddy spent all their money on a lavish lifestyle....And your daddy ran off with the rest.

Brad

(nodding his head)

The beach life is the best

Brad stands up and imitates surfing.

Brad(cont)

The sun.... the open sea... the.....

George

The stench of seaweed, the sewage...The seagulls stealing
your pasties.

Brad stops dead, flicks his hair and slumps in his chair.

Cecil

Look, lets hit the bright lights of the city. I'll show you fine
foods and we'll see a show...sample

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