Scene 2: Friday, 7:50 AM
(The Once-ler is sitting in his huge chair, looking over his plans for Thneedville. He smiles in satisfaction, not knowing that the Lorax is standing right next to him, looking at the plans from over his shoulder. The Once-ler smiles blissfully and turns his head slightly-only to find the Lorax right in his face)
Once-ler: (flinches) What the-?! Mustache, don't sneak up on me like that!
Lorax: Sorry.
Once-ler: (rolls his eyes and puts the plans away) Whatever. What are you doing here, anyway?
Lorax: We need to talk.
Once-ler: Another lecture? Yipee!
Lorax: (rolls his eyes) Real funny.
Once-ler: Well, I guess I've got some time to humor you today. (he sits down and lights a cigar) Rant away!
(The Lorax says nothing, he just stares at the cigar in the Once-ler's hand with a bewildered look on his face. The Once-ler frowns)
Once-ler: What?
Lorax: Didn't know you smoked.
Once-ler: (pauses, and looks at the cigar with a sheepish grin.) Oh, this? It's just to get into character, that's all.
Lorax: Seriously? Why'd you start? Don't you know that stuff is bad for you?
Once-ler: (chuckles) Hey, calm down, buddy. I don't smoke all the time. stop being such a drama queen. (he takes a puff of the cigar and blows it right into the Lorax's face, sending him into a fit of coughs)
Lorax: Y-yeah, whatever. It's your funeral kid. But speaking of smoke, that's actually what I came here about-do you know how much smogulous smoke you've been releasing into the sky? Your factory's been spewing it out like a geyser that just doesn't stop!
Once-ler: (shrugs) Yeah, well, factories do that. There's not much I can do about it.
Lorax: It's polluting the air! Look at the Swammee Swans, they can't even fly anymore because of it!
Once-ler: (rolls his eyes in annoyance) I thought you were here to talk about trees…?
Lorax: I told you, I'm the guardian of the entire forest. I protect the animals, too, and boy, do they need it! The swans can't even breathe in this environment, let alone sing. And a lot of them have started losing their feathers, too.
Once-ler: Eww.
Lorax: Exactly, see? That's why I came to you. There's got to be something you can do to change it…
Once-ler: (shrugs again) L-look, mustache...I'm sorry, but it's really not my problem.
Lorax: Not your problem?! You're the one who's causing it!
Once-ler: (tries to keep his cool by puffing on his cigar) It's just a side effect, okay? The Swammee Swans will just have to...adapt or something!
Lorax: Adapt?! Are you deaf?! I just told you, they can't breathe!
Once-ler: And I told you, it's not my problem! (pauses for a moment, trying to relax) Look, it's not that I don't care. But I'm a busy man. I've got bigger things to worry about than a bunch of birds who can't sing. If you're their guardian, why don't you help them?
Lorax: I am trying to help them! If you'd just listen, then maybe we could!
Once-ler: "We?" Hah. That's funny mustache, but there's no "we" in this situation. I'm doing my own thing now. And I'm going to keep doing it whether you or the Swammee Swans like it or not. (there is a short pause) Got it?
(The Lorax finally gives up and sighs in defeat)
Lorax: Fine. Whatever you say. (starts to walk away sadly) But you know...I'm also trying to help you.
Once-ler: Yeah, ok, sure.(He finally tosses the cigar in the trashcan and sits back down. He picks up the plans and looks them over again, indicating that the conversation is over)
Lorax: (stops by the door) You know...you've changed, beanpole.
Once-ler: (doesn't look up) Things change. You'll just have to deal with it.
Lorax: ...I liked you better before.
Once-ler: (pauses, then mutters to himself.) Well, too bad for you.
(The Lorax turns and is about to leave, but the Once-ler stops him)
Once-ler: Mustache. You know, I still consider you a frie-er, very good acquaintance-don't make me change that too.
Lorax: (glares at his back) Right back at you.
(The Once-ler stiffens at these words, and turns around to shoot a glare at the Lorax-but the forest guardian is already gone. He then goes back to scanning the diagrams, but he's not as into it as he was before.)
Once-ler: (to himself) Fine, then. I guess that's that.