A Very Bongiovi Christmas

FADE IN: EXT RANDOM SUBURBAN NEW JERSEY HOUSE

A 19-year-old JOHN BONGIOVI stands to the side of the driveway in front of a nondescript suburban house. He is wearing a jean jacket over a black t-shirt, jeans, scuffed boots, and a purple bandana on his head. He lights up a cigarette and shivers in the cold. It isn’t snowing, but the sky is grey and the lawn is covered with old snow. A moment later, he is joined by DON BONGIOVI, his 39-year-old uncle. Don is portly, with a black mustache that droops over his upper lip and a permed mullet. He is wearing a green cable knit sweater, crisp blue jeans and bright white sneakers. 

DON

Johnny! Look at you, you sonofabitch. You’re gettin’ so big!

JOHN

Hey, Uncle Don. Good to see you. How are you?

DON

I can’t complain, Johnny, I can’t complain. I mean, I could, but I won’t you know what I’m saying? Hahaha.

Don laughs harder than he should, and it sounds fake because it is. John smiles and continues to shiver.

DON

 Hey, lemme get one of them smokes from ya, Johnny, what do ya say?

JOHN

Sure, Uncle Don. 

John produces a pack of Camels and shakes one loose for Don. Don takes the cigarette and leans in for a light. He inhales, then coughs. The cough turns into a fit of coughs, which causes Don to hock a large loogie into snow. 

DON

I left mine at home. I’m tryna quit. Trissa would tan my hide if she knew I was out here right now, I’ll tell you that much. 

JOHN

Ain’t she gonna smell it on you?

DON

What? No. By the time I get home? No. Plus, she’s up in the bedroom on account of she’s immobile. When I get home, I’ll go splash some cologne on first before I go up to see her. She won’t know. 

John nods. He thinks Don is full of shit, but he doesn’t want to argue. 

DON

So?

JOHN

So what?

DON

Oh, don’t be an asshole, John. You know ‘so what’. So have you thought about what I was tellin’ your ma?

JOHN

About coming to work with you.

DON

Yeah about coming to work with me. Look, I know it ain’t rock-and-roll, John, but rock-and-roll ain’t gonna pay you shit. If you’re not gonna go to college, you need to start gettin’ real work experience. 

John looks at the driveway, gently kicks a clump of snow. He takes a drag from his cigarette and looks into the distance at nothing in particular. 

DON

All you gotta do is take a class that takes—

JOHN

Takes a week and do a written exam and a driving exam and bada-bing, bada-boom, I get my CDL. I fucking get it, Uncle Don—

DON

HEY! You watch your goddamn language, John.

JOHN

Sorry. I didn’t mean that. I just meant that, I don’t WANT to get my CDL. I don’t want to deliver restaurant supplies to—

DON

It’s a goddamned good job, Johnny. You can be making $45 thou after a year— a YEAR, John. None of them cocksuckin’ queens you prance around the stage with are gonna be making that a year from now. You mark my words.  

JOHN

Hey, that ain’t cool, Uncle Don. They ain’t cocksuckin’ queens. They get— WE get— a ton of strange. I’m swimming in pussy, Don. 

DON

That’s fine, John, but is that pussy gonna get you outta my sister’s basement? Is that pussy gonna get you a new Trans Am? Because I’m getting a goddamn new Trans Am in March, John. 

JOHN

Yeah, well. 

John shrugs. He isn’t sure what else to say. He’s cold and wants to go back inside. His cigarette is finished and he flicks it into the street. 

DON

Yeah, well what? Look, just come down on Monday and fill out an application. I told Marty that my nephew needed a job and he told me to have you come down. It’s… just think about it, will ya?

JOHN

Yeah, okay. Whatever you say, Don.

DON

Yeah, that’s what I’m sayin’ to you. Just humor me. I know the music shit is cool, and I know you’re good at it. But it’s a million to one shot that you’ll ever make a living at that, you know what I’m sayin’? 

JOHN

Sure. If you say so.

DON

I do say so, yeah. You gotta quit livin’ on a prayer, Johnny. Just come to Drexler with me. Start puttin’ money in your 401k now, you’ll be retiring at fucking 40, you know? 

JOHN 

I’m headed back in. I’m cold. 

DON

No shit. Colder than an eskimo’s pussy out here, Johnny. Hey, leave me with one of them cigs, would ya? 

John rolls his eyes as he goes back and shakes another cigarette loose for his uncle. 

FADE OUT: EXT HOUSE