I never know what she's saying, but it always sounds wonderful.
Cabana boy goes back to his work, planting tiki torches on the beach.
I'll admit, this is the hardest time of year for a member of the Cabanaero, the brotherhood of cabana boys: the last day of summer. So tonight, we have the ritual last hurrah—the farewell blowout clambake!
Laetitia, leaping from the sundeck and diving into the surf. She emerges after a moment and rolls onto the beach, so that she now resembles a Shake 'n Bake chicken. She sunbathes for a bit, then walks past the overheated CABANA BOY. As she passes, the tiki torch he is holding spontaneously bursts into flame. A Steadicam follows LAETITIA onto the sundeck, into the beach house and finally to the shower, where she de-sands.
Cabana boy, sitting on a love seat in the living room, addressing someone who is just out of the frame . . .
She won't leave me any hot water. She never does. You notice that? Cabana Boy has taken nothing but cold showers this summer. Perhaps it's just as well. You know, sometimes I think you're the only one in the house who understands me...
PULL BACK TO REVEAL:
A golden retriever yawning impassively on the love seat next to CABANA BOY.
We're out of snacks, Cabana Boy!
EXT. GROCERY STORE AT THE MALIBU COLONY PLAZA
Cabana boy is shopping for the clambake. He lowers a whole pig into his shopping cart, a pineapple, 30 bottles of Evian water. The wheels of the cart go squeak, squeak, squeak...