Shift. Lisa, Dee, Kay, Jon. In the woods. Around a fire.
JON: Maybe it doesn’t matter.
LISA: It matters.
DEE: Of course it does, Leese.
Dee grips Lisa’s hand. Kay cooks fish. She is sad. She cooks.
JON: But why though? Really?
LISA: It just does.
DEE: The human race.
LISA: Our mothers. Our children!
JON: They’ll die eventually.
Jon glances at Kay. He looks away.
JON: They just will. I’m not trying to be…I mean we all do. Like at some point everybody goes through this weird, private horror of dying, of like being dead, of going from not dead to dead, or alive to not alive, or— Like, sometime or other, sooner or later, you get hit by a bus or you get cancer or the pox or the flu or you die in your sleep or your plane crashes or you step off a bridge or you get in a car crash or you get arrested by a crooked cop and burned in your cell or you get beaten on the street by a crooked cop or you get shot on the street by a nervous cop when you’re reaching for your ID or your lover stabs you or poisons you or pushes you into traffic or a stranger shoots you in the face at the movie theatre and you die. And then you’re dead. And you had a life and it was good that you had a life but now it’s over and ultimately that’s not surprising. Because it happens to everyone. Right?
Everyone just looks at him.