Act 1, Scene 1:
A remote stretch of desert between Brawley and Blythe, uninhabited by thinking people...
Barc: (forcefully) Son! Son! Come down from that 300 to 400 foot slag heap, the one you're standing on too far away from me to hear, the one with scary steep sides and death shards of razor rock, the one evidently vomited up by the adjacent, abandoned uranium mine, this instant!!
Emer: (insouciantly, with a complete lack of awareness of the long-term effect of exposure to Uranium 235, an even greater absence of appreciation for the short-term effect of falling down a cliff of radiation knives, and, in fact, utterly oblivious to the squeaks of his father 297 yards away)
Whoa! Cool cairn!
Barc: (using a strong parental tone that nearly always works) Emer! It's really, really far away, and I can hardly see it, but if that stack of rocks is a cairn then... well, then... I told you! It's really dangerous there! People have diiiiiiiiiied there, probably from not listening to their dad who is not at all worried, in general, about random and statistically-improbable things happening to you, but actually uses a laser-focused, brilliant anticipatory acumen to separate real from imagined fears, and I'm telling you, step back from the cairn and proceed quietly to the nearest emergency door!
Emer: (glancing at the bikes in the distance) I wonder if I should have two or three PB & J sandwiches. Wait! A PB & J club sandwich! Brilliant!
Barc: (with a frustration only a parent can feel when his idiot child defies him) Fine! I'm just going to sit down on the road and not even look. If you kill yourself because you didn't listen to me, your siblings may be initially dismayed, but then probably pretty darn buoyant when they realize that the seventy-three dollars June and I are leaving in our estate can suddenly be divided 50/50, rather than thirds. That's what really.
Emer: (oozing fondness) Better get back to the old man. Gosh how I love him!
End of Scene 1
