FADE IN:

EXT. SCHOOL PLAYGROUND - MORNING

BURGESS BUNDLE sits at the bottom of a twisting slide, boots twisting swirls in a puddle with a stick that he holds between his feet. He HUMS discordant and disconnect notes that slow in unison with the strokes of the twig. His cheeks are red from the cold and his breath huffs condensation. He stops playing with the puddle and leans forward to catch the twig out of the water. He gets up and walks over to the sandbox where JOHN ANDREW sits forming thin lines of mud on the dark grey pavement with a scrap piece of cardboard.

BURGESS
Hey, look!

Burgess lifts the still-wet twig to his mouth using the thumb and index finger of his right hand, takes it into his mouth and between his teeth, then closes his lips around the stick that drips water onto his boots. He inhales through his closed mouth, his neck tenses, his lips make a SMACKING SOUND. He draws the twig away, arms flexed at his sides, and slowly exhales a hyperbolic breath of condensation.

JOHN
Yea? Well watch this!

John reaches into his pocket and takes out a large straw. Burgess blinks, watching him. John looks at the straw then down at the small messy lines of wet sand. He brings the straw to his nose, pauses, looks sideways, then brings the straw to his left nostril then up into the nasal cavity. Burgess bursts into laughter and throws the twig against the yard fence.

John uses one hand to support his weight as he crouches over the lines of sand and maneuvers the open end of the straw towards the line closest to his right knee. He sniffs hard and simultaneously moves the straw up the line that disappears. After a few moments John sits up, mud and blood run from his nose to his chin. He smiles stupidly at Burgess, coughs, gags, and begins to wretch. Burgess rolls on the pavement kicking and howling with laughter.