SCENE 6: INT. MURPHY'S CORNER STORE - EARLY MORNING

​

Sunlight beams through dusty window blinds. The bell on the shop door jingles as Derrick Murphy walks in, backpack slung over one shoulder. His father, Robert Murphy, is hunched over the counter reading a worn copy of the classifieds, sipping slowly from a chipped mug of black coffee.

 

DERRICK MURPHY

(Yawning.)

Morning, Pops.

 

ROBERT MURPHY

(Without looking up.)

Boy, you got class or am I

hallucinating?58.

 

DERRICK MURPHY

(Checks his phone.)

Damn... yeah. I got that 9 a.m.

economics joint.

 

ROBERT MURPHY

(Slides the newspaper

down).

Then what the hell you doing here?

 

DERRICK MURPHY

(Grins, unloading a soda

and some snacks on the

counter.)

Making a pitstop. Gotta drop the

bank deposit first.

​

Derrick walks towards the backroom safe.

 

ROBERT MURPHY

That money better make it to the

bank, not your shoe box collection.

 

DERRICK MURPHY

(Laughs from the back.)

I’m clean, Pops. You raised me

better.

​

Robert watches his son for a moment. A flicker of pride hides behind his skeptical eyes.