A Pete Movie Chapter 2: Act II, an a goofy movie fanfic

Destination (Pete sings bold parts, PJ sings italicized parts)

Can't you see the places out in front of you
Where we can grow from boys into men-
The great outdoors are waiting for us to get there
And mark our territory again.

Son, come with me, you'll see,
This is the way it's meant to be
Our destination, destination
Matters well doesn't matter
Our destination, destination
Mighty swell, getting sadder
The great outdoors will make our bond grow strong
How many minutes 'til he's proven wrong?

Can't you see the hunting and the fishing
And grilling hot stuff out in the air
The great outdoors are waiting for us to arrive
And holler out loud when we get there

My life it seems is agony
I'm predestined to suffering
No matter what I say or do
I'm stuck… stuck under you

Boy, don't you go on whining
We're gonna have a ton of fun
And if you forgot my temper—
We had a deal, remember?

"PJ!" Pete yelled. "Where the heck are you!?"

"I was sorta changing the course, sir," PJ answered.

"Why!?" Pete asked. "What's wrong with where I set it?"

"Umm, well, y'see, we were uh… going to crash into a wall, kinda, and I decided to move it back onto the…" PJ stammered.

"PJ, PJ, PJ," Pete said, shaking his head and then smiling condescendingly, "How many times have I told you that things like the RV controls are…"

"Off-limits to the help," PJ said. "Yes, I know, Dad. But I didn't want us to get killed…"

"PJ, I'll be sure to make sure none of us get killed. Now you go clean the toilet while I try to scout out a pit stop I have in mind," Pete said.

"Maybe I wouldn't have to change the course if you'd actually drive the darned thing instead of relying on the technology," PJ muttered while Pete was out of earshot.

The RV pulls up to a place called Mikey's Rifle Co. "Ah, here 'tis, PJ," Pete said. PJ walked out. He looked very uncomfortable. "This is where I used to go all the time with Grandpa Pete."

"Umm…" PJ said. "I don't know about this, Dad."

Pete pulled PJ along and took him to meet the owner. "Hi, I'm Mikey, of Mikey's Rifle Co. Do you want to shoot animals?"

"Not particularly," PJ responded.

"Other people?" Mikey asked.

"Of course not!" PJ said indignantly.

"Y—" Mikey began, but PJ interrupted him.

"Don't give me any ideas…" he said bitterly.

"Forgive my son," Pete said, "You see, he's a sissy. He doesn't know his way around a gun yet."

"Not to worry," Mikey responded. "I'm sure he's not really a sissy. He just doesn't have the proper training. But with my training song, everything will come out right."

Mikey's Rifle Co. (all sung by Mikey)

You want to be a shooting star?
Well kid, there's just one thing you should know.
Shoot 'em up, shoot 'em up, shoot 'em up high
And you'll always be ready to go!

Shoot 'em up, shoot 'em up, shoot 'em up
And the ladies will all want you
And the sissies will all hate you
Shoot 'em up, shoot 'em up, shoot 'em up

Just try not to hit your best friend in the eye
When you shoot 'em up, shoot 'em up, shoot 'em up high!
The ladies will all love you
And the sissies will all hate you
When you shoot 'em up here at
Mikey's Rifle Company!

PJ's eyes widened in horror. "… Is that what passes for gun safety training nowadays? Encouraging people to shoot haphazardly and try not to hit their best friends?"

"Sissy," Mikey said.

"Is it 'sissy' not to want to think this place is encouraging manslaughter?" PJ shrieked, trembling. Everyone looked at him funny.

He collapsed from wooziness. "Wow, look at that wimp!" shouted a man. Pete became very angry.

"PJ!" he roared, "Get up. Now!"

"Excuse me," said the man, "Are you this wimp's father?"

"Only by blood," Pete muttered.

"You should be ashamed," he said. "How old is he? Fifteen? Sheesh. You'd think you would have taught him how to be a man by now."

"Believe me, I've tried," Pete said. He grabbed PJ by the arm and dragged him back to the RV.

"Dad, I…" PJ said.

"You're a mistake!" Pete shouted.

"A… what?" PJ asked. "Dad, what did I do this time?"

"Nothing," Pete responded. "Forget I said anything."

"You said the M word, Dad," PJ said, "Kind of hard to forget."

Pete snapped, "Okay, fine, you know what? I wanted a son who could do fun manly things with me like go on camping trips and shooting practice but instead I got a stupid cowardly sissy wimp who is worth less than the trash he picks up for me! Now go clean up your quarters and don't talk to me for the rest of the night." PJ was on the verge of tears when he exited the area and he cried himself to sleep.

The next morning, Pete walked over to where PJ was sleeping and asked, "PJ, are you alright?"

"Why do you care about the feelings of a worthless mistake?" PJ asked.

"Look, PJ… I was mad last night. And sometimes when we get mad we say things we don't mean, but I assure you, I don't think you're worthless or a mistake," Pete responded, putting his hand on PJ's shoulder.

"You… mean that, Dad?" PJ asked.

"Of course," Pete said. He laughed. "Without you around I'd never get anything done!"

"Well, I suppose it's nice to know you actually… you know, care…" PJ said, "Even if you do it in the most emotionally detached way possible." PJ sat on the side of his bed.

"And to make up for being so mean," Pete said, "I'm going to let you play with the stereo."

"Really?" PJ asked, getting out of bed.

"Why sure, son! You can even listen to the music while you work like they do in the movies!" Pete responded, patting PJ on the back.

"Thanks, Dad," PJ said, in surprise. "But… are you umm… feeling okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine" Pete said oddly sympathetically. "I just thought I went a little too far last night, that's all." PJ smiled. "But you are mincemeat if you bust any of the buttons," Pete murmured, seething.

"Got it, sir!" PJ said, saluting his father.

"Now let's see where we are," Pete said, walking over to the RV's backdoor.

PJ shrugged. He found a copy of Powerline's newest record on CD on his shelf and popped it into the stereo, making sure to be as careful as possible.

Pete, meanwhile, exited the RV and realized he had accidentally opened the door on Goofy. He was surprised to see him. Max asked Pete if PJ was in the RV. He walked around the corner and saw PJ cleaning the RV's floor and trophies while singing along with the stereo. He shut it off, though PJ was oblivious and kept singing until he noticed Max had arrived. They greeted each other and joked around a bit, when Max expressed envy for the RV, telling PJ how lucky he was. PJ told Max what Bobby had told him, and Max revealed that it was a lie.

Goofy and Pete were bowling on the roof. Goofy told Pete that Max was still not bonding with him and was thinking about backing off. Pete told him that what he needed to do was exercise more control, not less. He proceeded to knock down nine pins, and then screamed for PJ to come. PJ ran up to the roof as quickly as he could. Pete pointed to the pin, and PJ kicked it down. Pete started to celebrate, offered to give PJ a high-five, took it back, and laughed at him. PJ was disappointed.

Pete invited Max and Goofy to stay for dinner, but Goofy wanted to take Max fishing. Following Pete's advice, he told Max that they had to go fishing. Max was upset, but Goofy followed him anyway.

"Did he seriously just…" PJ began, "Dad, you haven't been giving people parenting advice…have you?"

"I have," Pete said. "I'm just so generous. Giving my excessive knowledge to other people."

"Dad," PJ responded, "I don't know if that will really help their relationship, you know. No offense, sir, but… uhh… maybe your skills are more concentrated… elsewhere?"

"Did you just insult my parenting?" Pete asked suspiciously. He shouted "I am the best father you will ever have, so be grateful, boy! Did you ever finish cleaning up anyway? Don't talk back to me, y'hear! Go finish your chores so I can make you dinner… because I do make you dinner!"

"Dad, I never meant to imply you were a horrible, irredeemable monster…" PJ said, "Just… y'know… you could stand to be a little less… umm... never mind. I'll just go back to doing my chores…" He sighed and climbed back down.

Pete grabbed the grill and started cooking some steaks, only to have one of them snagged by a stray fishing line. He vaguely heard Max screaming but he had no idea why. The reason soon became clear: Bigfoot was chasing him and Goofy! "Bigfoot!" Pete screamed and then tossed the grill, still lit, steaks and all into the RV and drove away.

"What the heck?" PJ asked, as he was thrown against the counter.

"We have to get out of here! I don't want Bigfoot to eat you!" Pete shouted.

"Bigfoot… wait, Dad?" PJ asked.

"What?" Pete asked.

"Did you just say you didn't want Bigfoot to eat… me?" PJ asked.

"Yes, I did!" Pete responded. "Why?"

"It's the first time since Mom left that you actually showed concern for my safety…" PJ said. The moment was ruined just as quickly when he saw that the grill had tipped over and a spark had caught onto one of the road maps. "Oh my gosh, Dad! The RV is on fire!"

"What? Fire?" Pete asked. "Well, don't just stand there! Put it out!"

"Where's the extinguisher on this thing?" PJ asked.

"Right over there," Pete said, pointing.

PJ rushed over to the extinguisher, took it out of its case and sprayed at the fire. "Well," he said, "I suppose we'll have to reset the grill."

"No," Pete said, "Bigfoot's still out there and he might have chased us down. We'll just have to make do with what we can cook inside the RV."

"We have some microwave burritos," PJ said. "Remember when we'd used to eat the microwave burritos and Mom would always get mad at you for encouraging me to eat seven at once to be part of your 'brass band?'"

"No," Pete said curtly.

"Oh, well, umm…" PJ said, "We have some ramen. Remember when you put the noodles on my nose and Mom told you to stop playing with your food but then I slurped them up and she swore she was imagining?"

"No," Pete said again.

"Forget it," PJ said. "What do you want to eat?"

"I don't care, as long as it doesn't come with a scented-mental story," Pete responded.

"Fine," PJ said, in a defeated tone, "We can eat sandwiches. I have no fond memories of eating sandwiches with you whatsoever."

"Sandwiches," Pete said, "Remember, son, not too much mustard on mine."

"Dad," PJ said, "I know how you like them by now." Sighing, he started to make Pete's sandwich. "Which bread would you like, sir?" he asked, his voice jaded.

"PJ, wait," Pete said, "I'll… I'll make it myself."

"Dad, are you feverish?" PJ asked, sincerely concerned.

"No," Pete said, "It's just… you sound really tired and you've done an excellent job of keeping up your end of the bargain… go sit."

"You're giving me… a break?" PJ asked. "An actual break?"

"Yes, son," Pete said. "You're off the hook from chores until after dinner."

"Thanks, Dad," PJ said, stunned.

After they had eaten dinner, Pete fell asleep on the sofa. PJ looked over him and smiled. He slapped himself in the face, shook his head and said to himself, "It won't last. It never does." He started to smile again, climbing into bed. "Still… at least he occasionally tries. Well, I hope Max will find a solution to his problems…"

"What problems?" Pete asked groggily.

"Oh, Dad," PJ asked, heart stopping, "You're awake?"

"There ain't no problems on this car! It's like it's never been driven before! Wait, come back! NOOOOOO!" Pete shouted.

"Dad?" PJ asked, getting up and approaching Pete.

"PJ," Pete said, waking up, "Did I wake you?"

"No, I hadn't fallen asleep yet, but…" PJ said, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, just a flashback dream," Pete said, "Don't worry about it. Go back to bed."

"If you say so, Dad," PJ said. "Good night."

The next morning, Pete said, "Rise and shine, Junior!"

"What needs doin'?" PJ asked, rubbing his eyes.

"We're going to have a grand day out today!" Pete said. "Put away the mop and broom. We're going to go hunting, hiking, fishing, the works! And if you're really good I'll even do something you want to do."

"You're kidding," PJ said flatly, his face dumbfounded.

"Nope," Pete said. "I just know how difficult it is for you to be good while I'm trying to teach you to be manly, so I figure I won't have to pay in anyway."

"So you are bluffing," PJ said. "Figures."

"No," Pete said. "It's an incentive, boy."

"I'll do my best," PJ said, shrugging. The two of them hopped out of the RV.

While they were hunting, Pete tried to catch a rabbit in a trap but his foot got caught in it; PJ tried to pry it free but got it caught on himself while Pete walked onward, oblivious.

While they were hiking, PJ waved his hands in warning right before Pete stepped into a patch of poison ivy and then took his father's hand and led him to a safer path.

While they were fishing, PJ caught a big fish and was ordered to throw it back because it was slightly bigger than the one Pete got. He shrugged, tossing it back, which splashed Pete in the face with some water. He offered Pete his shirt as a towel, grinning in embarrassment.

They got back in the RV and started driving towards a tourist town. PJ, with an excited expression, pointed toward a bookstore with a sign that said, "Amateur Poetry Night". Pete looked at him, laughed and shook his head. PJ glared, and then slumped disappointedly.

PJ cleaned the sink with a crushed expression. PJ put on a completely unconvincing and somewhat frightening fake smile when Pete walked by.

"I'm 'so lucky…'" PJ said wearily. "Max, you have no idea." He looked out the window and saw a hotel called Neptune Inn. "Dad, stop the RV! I see Mr. G's car!"

"Oh!" Pete said, stopping the RV abruptly. "Let's see if we can mooch energy off of them."

They entered the front office. "Where are the Goofs staying?" Pete asked, slamming his hands on the desk.

"I can't give that information to just anyone," the clerk said.

"Well, y'see," PJ explained, "We're family friends, neighbors really. My dad and Mr. Goof work together and Max Goof is my best friend. But I understand if the information is private and we won't pry anymore."

"My," the clerk said, "What a polite, upstanding young man. You must have quite the upbringing."

"You have no idea," he said flatly.

"You must be so proud of your son," the clerk said again, turning to Pete. "Many children his age act out." PJ looked at her with pleading eyes, but she didn't stop. "You must have something other parents lack." PJ slapped his forehead and frowned.

"Well, you know," Pete said, "I've been telling that to my neighbor the whole time."

By the RV, Pete said, "Grab the cords, PJ, I'll knock."

Pete "knocked" by pretending to be hostile police. Max and Goofy clearly both fell for it which Pete found hilarious. Max and Goofy joked with each other about who was more afraid. Pete pulled Goofy over and reminded him of the parenting advice. He asked if they could hook up the RV and then ordered PJ to carry in the cords. Pete asked Goofy to go get some pizza.

"Hey, what's up?" Max asked.

"Oh, Dad just got my hopes up and then sent them crashing to the ground on purpose. Again. And then the clerk complimented his parenting," PJ said in disgust.

"Sorry," Max said, shrugging. He opened his mouth again, but then thought it prudent not to say anything.

PJ quickly changed the subject, responding, "But enough about my problems, let's hear about yours! Did you ever solve that dilemma?"

"Oh, yeah, that," Max said, "I did indeed. I changed the map so now we're going to the Powerline concert instead of Lake Destiny."

"You must think your dad is dumber than a bag of bricks," PJ said.

"You say that as if you don't think your dad is," Max responded.

"Dads have a keen ability to detect wrongdoing within a seventy-mile radius," PJ responded. Max laughed. "No, I mean it, they…" PJ began but was interrupted by Goofy bringing in the pizza. Once Goofy left, PJ continued to good-naturedly berate Max for his lack of forethought. Pete happened to overhear.

He followed Goofy out to the hot tub and told him everything that he overheard. Goofy said he didn't believe Pete because he trusted Max—Max loves him. Pete responded that PJ respects him. Goofy left, but Pete insisted that Goofy check the map. Pete exited the hot tub and walked toward the RV. PJ exited the hotel room a few minutes later and headed directly to the RV.