INT. CAR – DAY
Trevor is driving his tan Oldsmobuick down the street, his 13 year old son, Chad, sitting next to him. Sheila sits in the back seat, gnawing on a hunk of beef jerky and seemingly oblivious to the uncomfortable silence in the car between a father who doesn’t know how to talk to his teenage son anymore and a teenage son who is perfectly happy to sit in silence.
Trevor: So… how’s school?
Trevor: You like your teachers?
Chad: They’re fine.
Trevor: Any of them you like more than the others?
Chad: Uhhhhh… not really.