Who’s your daddy?
A question for the ages. Natalie presses Dylan about how he came to the conclusion that his father is his role model.
But don’t expect Dylan to let Natalie have the day off and not talk about the relationship with her dad too.
What do you get when you put a microphone in front of two Original Soupman Soup Club Members and best-friend-bloggers, Natalie and Dylan?
A declaration of their passion for the Original Soupman’s Soups?
A recipe for a warm, happy belly hugging your heart?
Or something else…
Int. Natalie’s Apartment – Afternoon
NATALIE: I told you this was coming.
DYLAN: If you’re going to perform the Ice Bucket Challenge I think you’re a little late.
DYLAN: Please don’t eat a Tide Pod.
NATALIE: I would never.
DYLAN: You say that now. But they look so delicious. I mean, it’s no Lobster Bisque…
NATALIE: Father’s Day is next week. Tell me about your relationship with your dad.
DYLAN: Who are you? Dr. Joyce Brothers?
NATALIE: She gave mostly relationship advice. And not that type of relationship. Tell me about your dad.
DYLAN: Do I have to? You know about everything.
NATALIE: The people listening and reading this do not. Spill.
DYLAN: Fine. I love my dad. It’s not always been the rosiest of relationships, but it’s always a process.
NATALIE: That was… the vaguest, most cookie cutter response to that question. This is Father’s Day we’re talking about. It’s a celebration. You need to tell a story. About the time where he played catch with you and simultaneously saved you from the tree that was struck by lightning right next to you. Or about a time when you were drowning and he had to rescue you from the rip tide. Or how about telling the story of when he got up in front of the entire high school at an assembly and played the tambourine because you were too scared to play the piano in front of a crowd.
DYLAN: Let me address those points. I don’t play the piano. At least not very well. I’m not thrilled by the water in large part due to the movie Jaws. The lightning bargain thing? I don’t even know where to begin with that. I was, however, hit in the head by a football once. Hit me in the temple. I got knocked out.
NATALIE: And your dad revived you. Took you home. Nursed you back to life with only the finest soups?
DYLAN: Um… No. It was in ninth grade. In gym. I woke up and went to my next class.
NATALIE: That’s uneventful.
DYLAN: And somewhat irresponsible now that I think about it. I could’ve had a concussion.
NATALIE: I need you to tell me something. Talk. Tell me some fantastic story about your dad.
DYLAN: He is amazing. But I was a little older before I realized what a great guy he was. Wasted a lot of years. Now, he’s one of my best friends. Even if he doesn’t know it.
NATALIE: Still not what I’m looking for.
DYLAN: What do you want me to say?
NATALIE: Say anything.
DYLAN: What could I possibly say? He’s a hero of mine. He is the man I always aspire to be. Fingers crossed I end up being ten percent of the person that he is today. Or any day for that matter. There’re no words that I could put together in an order that might be called a sentence that will completely and utterly encompass how I feel about my dad.
NATALIE: Keep it simple, stupid.
DYLAN: Happy Father’s Day, Dad. I love ya.
NATALIE: That’s so sweet.
DYLAN: Don’t look for this to be an ongoing theme.
NATALIE: I would and could never. My expectations of you are bottom basement. As usual. Nothing has changed.
DYLAN: I love it when you’re being kind. What’s next on the agenda?
NATALIE: Make sure you have your seatbelts on. Cause you’re gonna get whiplash from this transition.
DYLAN: Hold on to your butts!
NATALIE: Your fathers love you. Love them back. Through the 30th of June you can give them a Gold Membership or better from the Original Soupman and get 20% off.
DYLAN: That sounds like the least you can do for the man who put food on the table. Put food on theirs.
NATALIE: Did you just think of that? Or was it rehearsed.
DYLAN: It doesn’t matter cause it’s true.
NATALIE: That may be true but makes zero sense. Anyway… I’m Natalie.
DYLAN: And I’m Dylan.