Before Someone Drops a House On You

Hi, my name is Jackson.

JOAN: Jackson, I seem to be having a problem.
ME: Which is?
JOAN: My things are all outside in the parking lot.
ME: Oh right. I kicked you out of the apartment.

Today might be one of the happiest days of my life.

JOAN: Is this a joke?

Paige popped out of the hallway with the last box.

PAIGE: Maybe for us. Jackson and I were just cracking up when we were packing your stuff.
JOAN: You can't be serious.
ME: Hank called Mom--to apologize. Apparently you set him up with a hooker.
JOAN: They're called escorts, Jackson.
ME: You purposefully destroyed my relationship.
JOAN: Only because I know you can do better.
ME: No, you did it because you can't stand to see me be happy.
JOAN: That's ridiculous. You used to say the same thing when you were little just because you were fat and had low self-esteem.
ME: Paige, give me that box.

I took it, opened the window, and tossed it out.

PAIGE: That was all her breakables.
ME: I'm aware.

Mom got that frantic look in her eye. She was trying to figure out a way to stay.

JOAN: You can't do this. I'm your mother. I--
ME: You're a murderer.
JOAN: It was an accident!
ME: Is that how the police would see it?
JOAN: You two were involved!

Paige and I smiled at each other.

ME: Mom, didn't you notice us putting on gloves before we left with Chris' remains?

Mom's face dropped--might be time for another visit to Dr. Travers.

PAIGE: Looks like I have my room back.
ME: Try not to miss us too much, Mom.
JOAN: Go to hell. Both of you!

She walked out and slammed the door.

Ding Dong...