The scene opens in a rugged, mountainous terrain. There is a sense of movement in the air, and the sky is crisp, and clear. The trees above sway gently in a morning breeze; it is one of those days when there is zero humidity, and the conditions are nothing short of perfect, if you are a couple of hapless hikers trekking across the magic of the day that is about to be...
Raisin: Gee Charlie, getting back to nature sure is fun. You remember mom and dad?
Charlie: [He just shrugs, not wishing to seem indifferent, only trying to conserve his breath as he is terribly out of shape and has been bragging before to Raisin about what a rugged outdoorsman he really is].
Raisin: You re-mem-ber [really drawing it out] my Mom is Strato-digit and my dad, Orbitalis...
Charlie: [He shrugs again, but this time, only to "mess with" Raisin].
Raisin: Common Charlie, NObody forgets mom and dad.
Charlie: [This time he shakes his head as if he now suddenly remembers] They were the ones with hats?
Raisin: EXactly. The very ones. They like to impress people with how normal-looking they can be, considering their names and all. Of course, their's are adopted, unlike mine which is natural.
Charlie: They adopted their hats?
Raisin: No, silly, they adopted their names. Their hats belonged to them.
Charlie: Their names don't belong to them?
Raisin: I'm confused. Their names is what we call them. But they have real names, I mean, from their former life on the "outside" as they call it. Your world Charlie...they have names from your world.
Charlie: As opposed to...?
Raisin: As opposed to...what?
Charlie: As opposed to what other world? The one I'm walking on now is the only one I know of...are you saying they come from a world other than this one?
Raisin: No, no silly. The world is what you make of it. They simply make something different of theirs.
Charilie: How did they make a world?
Raisin: Charlie, sometimes I think you are just being obtuse.
Charlie: [really out of breath now - in more ways than one] Isn't that some kind of geometric figure?
Charlie: I guess I just misunderstand.
Raisin: Boy, I'll say.
Charlie: Anyhow, back to your mom and dad.
Raisin: Yes! Well, you see, Mom and Dad always, and I mean ALWAYS talk to me about how great it is to "get back to nature". I never exactly understood all that, cause we always lived in an apartment in Manhattan. I think it might have had something to do with the hot tub out back, cause that is what they'd always say the next day. "Isn't it nice to get back to nature". I just wonder if they only had the hot tub to remind them of some of these streams up here in the Smokies?
Charile: What would they know about these streams. Do they trout fish?
Raisin: Trout fish? I don't think they do. I have never heard them talk about "trouting". They mentioned something about "trotting" one time ... something to do with a ranger who had found their "mountain getaway", their commune away from the commune way back in the woods- with all their friends from high school. They always emphasize the word "high" when they say that for some reason. "Back in HIGH school". I think it is some kind of freaky quirk of their generation.
Charile: I see.
Raisin: Although, I never really understood the whole concept.
Charlie: What concept?
Raisin: Of the commune. I mean, is it a community they are speaking of? That is what the people down at the mission would talk about. "Our community". I heard them talk about a "faith-based community" once. I think maybe it has something to do with this.
Charlie: I think Trotsky lived on a commune.
Raisin: Maybe that had something to do with the time they were "Trouting"...I'll bet so. Probably trouting for Trosky or something...or maybe "Trotting for Trout"...they were forever doing stuff like that.
Charlie: [A truly confused look]
Raisin: Oh, you know. "Race for the planet", "Run for the cure"...I didn't know the band needed a race? They've got some pretty good music, you know. "The Cure"...they are really good...kinda out-dated.
Charlie: [more confused still]
Raising: Like once, we were at "the commune", you know, their code name for the penthouse on fifth avenue...
Charlie: [interrupting] Yeah, how is it you all came to live there anyway?
Raisin: Oh, daddies dad was a regular tycoon. That's what mum used to say. She would say a lot more than that too. I don't think she liked Grandpa. I'll get to more of that later.
[At this particlar time, they are both truly startled by a rather large and comparatively sophisticated-looking stag deer that bound across the trail (as Raisin would later relate it to her family) "like a gazelle prancing in a ballet staged so vividly on the planes of the Serengetti". The reason for the stag's rather hasty jump across the trail became readily apparent by the cougar that followed. After jumping into Charlie's arms he then immediately notices the rattle-snake that is sunning on a rock beside the trail.
He is startled, yells "SNAKE" and takes a couple of steps backward.
They both tumble and fall back, over a rock and out of view
The curtain falls to some thumping and screaming.]
Scene two opens in a spectacular palatial cabin perched high atop a mountain. There is an imposing picture window looking out over a lovely mountain scene.
Charles: That is simply...I can't think of the right word...simply...out of the ordinary. Unbelivable. I cahn't think of the right word dahling [in best emulation of one from the noveaux riche - extremely nouveaux].
Petunia: Oh Chuck, when are you gonna stop with all that high-falutin' stuff. You just ain't got the vocabulary for it. I make a million dollars a week uh sellin country music, and here you gotta sound like one of them Vanderbilts from way yonder across them mountains-O'er there in Ashvull. Nobody round here sounds like that.
Charles: Oh Petunia, for once can't you just humor me. We should set an example for what rich folks is supposed to sound like. Think of poor little Chuck.
Petunia: Yeah, poor little Chuck. I'll bet he is right now somewhere a runnin' a round and chasing some cute little honey or something...I darn sure know he ain't looking to rub elbows with no Warbucks er nuthin.
Charles: We should set a better example for the boy.
Petunia: "The boy" is seventeen years old. He drives the best sports utility SAV the money can buy (and it ain't saved me nuthin) He eats at the best rest-o-rants coming and going and you want to set a better example for him? I think he's got it purty darn good.
Charles: He's gonna bring home a girl from a really good family one day and you will be very sorry you haven't taken my advice. Have you read that book I bought you for Christmas back in ought-ought?
Petunia: "Amy Vanderbilt's Guide to Proper Ettiquette" ?
Charles: Yes, exactly.
Petunia: It is sitting on the back of the toilet I think.
Charles: Wonderful place for it Petooni. Just wonderful. Ever take any of the advice that's in it?
Petunia: Common Chuck.
Charles: It's "Charles" to you...Charles. Why can't you get that. Charles.
Petunia: You crawled straight out of "Sludger Holler", Chuck. I'm surprised they didn't call you "Chewwy" er sumthin.