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The Donahues Episode 2

Script By: NEONETWORK
Humor



Ryan tries to find a new ecstasy dealer, Jacob tries to hide the fact that he doesn’t play sports from his dad and Ethan tries to suppress an impending scandal involving his boss, Mayor Sarandon


Submitted:May 28, 2012    Reads: 21    Comments: 2    Likes: 3   


THE DONAHUES

"DRUG'S LIFE"

TV-MA DL

"Drugs are used to cure a pain, to save body's gain, but when abused, it's disdain"

  • Melvin Banggollay

(We start with Ethan and Kimberly reading newspapers at the dinner table. Kimberly is reading the New York Times while Ethan is reading the Washington Post.)

ETHAN: So, what does your Liberal rag say?

KIMBERLY: I'm reading an article about No Child Left Behind waivers. Ten states have got them.

ETHAN: Well that's good. Has Vermont gotten one?

KIMBERLY: No, to get a waiver you have to come up with an alternative education plan.

ETHAN: Damnit. (Puts down newspaper) What the hell does Governor Shumlin do all day, anyway? Besides polish his huge fucking nose and get hammer and sickle tattoos on his balls? This state has to get a waiver from ObamaCare to go to a single-payer socialist health care system, or should I say systematic extermination.

KIMBERLY: Wrong.

ETHAN: And we have to deal every day with socialists like Governor Shumlin and Senator Leahy!

KIMBERLY: What about Senator Bernie Sanders? He actually calls himself a socialist!

ETHAN: Yeah, but conservatives respect him for actually having the balls to come out and say it.

(Jacob comes in wearing a plaid collared shirt with rolled up sleeves and jeans.)

JACOB: Good morning.

PARENTS: Morning.

(Jacob opens the fridge, takes out waffles and puts them in the toaster.)

ETHAN: So Jacob, what is my favorite son doing in school today?

JACOB: Well, we're practicing today, dad.

ETHAN: Practicing lay-ups?

JACOB: Yeah.

ETHAN: Field goals?

JACOB: Sure…

ETHAN: Birdies?

JACOB: Absolutely.

ETHAN: 'Atta boy.

(Ryan comes in wearing dark blue super-skinny jeans and a black "Slur Factory" shirt.)

RYAN: Hey.

(Jacob's waffles pop up, and Jacob takes them out, puts them on a plate and eats them at the table)

ETHAN: Don't forget your sports bag, Jacob.

JACOB: I won't. We're going to win state this year.

ETHAN: Gonna win state! When is your next game?

JACOB: Thursday, March 22, 2012 at 5pm.

RYAN: That was oddly specific.

ETHAN: Damnit, I have a meeting then. Well, I'll try to make the next game.

RYAN: Hmm…

(Cut to Ryan, Jacob and Madeline on the bus)

RYAN: Hey Jacob.

JACOB: Yeah?

RYAN: I have a question, what sport do you play?

JACOB: You know…I play (mumbles)

RYAN: What was that?

JACOB: (Mumbles)

RYAN: Say again?

JACOB: Mumble.

RYAN: You just said mumble! Do you play a sport?

JACOB: NO! Okay? No, I don't play a sport.

RYAN: Then why do you say you do?

JACOB: Because dad is proud of me, that's why. He'd probably be proud of you as well if you played a sport.

RYAN: No, he wouldn't believe me. Listen, didn't you use to play a sport?

JACOB: Yeah, I was a football player for a few weeks at the beginning of eleventh grade.

RYAN: You're in eleventh grade.

JACOB: I know, and I played in football for a few weeks in September of last year, but I sucked. I kept trying steroids but they made me easily irritable, acne-ridden and ball shrunk.

MADELINE: Jesus, you did steroids?

RYAN: Your balls are small?

JACOB: Yes, I did steroids. I got them from Coach Weave.

RYAN: Wait, he just gave you steroids?

JACOB: Yep. He knows my dad's a hard ass, and he knows that hard work and determination are over rated, so he gave me a needle and told me to inject it into my ass.

RYAN: Wow. Are there any other teachers that sell drugs?

JACOB: Well, Mr. Daniels sells ecstasy and Ms. Carper sells pot.

(A crazy-haired kid with a messed-up face joins the conversation)

CRAZY KID: Does any teacher sell meth?

JACOB: Jesus Christ, no. Who the hell are you?

CRAZY KID: I'm Casey.

JACOB: Okay, Casey, please back off, you smell like a dead postman some kid and his dad ran over on the way back from the kid's grandmother's house last fall.

RYAN: What?

CASEY: Fine, if meth is not an option, I'll back off.

(Casey sits back in his seat)

RYAN: Hey, how did you know Thursday the 22nd is off limits for dad?

JACOB: Easy. I have his schedule! (Jacob takes out a black calendar book) Let's see, the "game" after Thursday's "game" will be Tuesday, March 27, 2012 at 6pm when dad has a manicure scheduled.

MADELINE: Wow, that's embarrassing.

RYAN: Where does he get the nerve to call me a faggot? Anyway, I am going to get ecstasy from that Mr. Daniels dude, for sure.

JACOB: Why? What happened to your current supplier?

RYAN: Uh, hello? He died!

JACOB: Why are you talking to me like I should know this?

RYAN: Well, he's dead. Kid was fucking seventeen years old.

JACOB: Yeah, and he was fucking fifteen year olds.

RYAN: The man's dead, have a little respect.

JACOB: He was creepy, I'm sorry.

RYAN: Yeah, I'll give you that.

(Cut to Ryan sitting in Mr. Daniels' history class as Mr. Daniels, a brown-haired thin white man of average height with a blue shirt and red tie and a pair of tan cackies and brown shoes, lectures the class.)

MR. DANIELS: And class, that's how many times Thomas Jefferson banged his slaves. (The bell is sounded on the intercom) Class is dismissed.

(Students gather their things and leave, however, Ryan remains and walks up to the teacher as he takes a seat at his desk.)

RYAN: Hello, Mr. Daniels.

MR. DANIELS: Hello, Ryan.

RYAN: So, I need to talk to you about something, that probably needs to be kept on the down low.

MR. DANIELS: This is the first time you've ever talked to me.

RYAN: Well, I've said hi.

MR. DANIELS: No, when you come into class you're always on your iPod.

RYAN: Well, I've nodded to you.

MR. DANIELS: Well, congratulations, you've acknowledged I exist, now what do you want?

RYAN: Well, I heard from a source that will be kept on the down low,

MR. DANIELS: Stop saying that.

RYAN: That you sell ecstasy. Is this true?

MR. DANIELS: WHAT? NO!

RYAN: Oh fuck.

MR. DANIELS: I am calling the principal right now, Ryan.

(Mr. Daniels picks up the phone. Cut to Principal Maxell's office. The principal is a portly white man with a fine, black Italian suit, wide-brimmed glasses and uniform salt and pepper hair. He is talking to Ryan, who is sitting down in a seat in front of Principal Maxell's desk in the poorly light room. Mr. Daniels is standing close by.)

PRINCIPAL MAXELL: Mr. Donahue, this is a very serious matter. Mr. Daniels alleges that you were trying to troll him for ecstasy.

RYAN: Well, this is true.

MAXELL: Really? Well, sign this form of admission (He puts a form on the table) and your punishment will be forthright.

RYAN: Actually, I was trolling for pot.

MAXELL: What?

RYAN: No, I was trolling for meth.

MAXELL: WHAT?

RYAN: On second thought, I was trolling for Oxycontin, Xanax bars, Percocet and Lori tab. Valiums, morphine, patches, ecstasy and it's all up for grabs.

MAXELL: GODDAMNIT QUIT CHANGING YOUR STORY! Ugh, I guess since you're all over the place, we have no choice but to give you a warning. Wait a minute, Mr. Daniels, did he ask you for ecstasy?

MR. DANIELS: Yes he did.

RYAN: Bullshit! I asked him if he sold ecstasy.

MAXELL: Is this true?

MR. DANIELS: …Do we have security cameras in my class room?

MAXELL: Yes.

MR. DANIELS: (Sighs) Fuck, it's right.

MAXELL: Damnit. Well then you didn't technically do anything wrong. You found a loophole, and I respect that, because you got to be proactive to find loopholes, it's why your dad only pays 14% in taxes.

RYAN: Yep.

MAXELL: However, we're still going to punish you for saying "bullshit" a minute ago.

MR. DANIELS: Yeah, he also said "fuck" in front of me.

RYAN: Shit.

(Cut to Jacob talking to a girl during passing period.)

JACOB: So, I can bench press about 450. Quite frankly, that's why I am the captain, the quarter back and the linebacker.

GIRL: Ooh. You sound like the best-what sport do you play?

JACOB: You have beautiful hair. (Jacob's phone rings, and he answers it) Hello?

ETHAN: (On the phone) Hey, I just moved my schedule around, so I can go to your big game on Thursday. Are you excited?

JACOB: …Yeah…

ETHAN: Great. See ya tonight. Stay golden!

JACOB: …Coo… (Ethan hangs up) oh no.

(Ryan walks up to Jacob)

RYAN: Hey, asshole.

JACOB: Wha-what?

(Jacob slowly puts down his phone)

RYAN: Thanks a lot, I asked Mr. Daniels for ecstasy and I narrowly averted getting OCS.

JACOB: Really? That's surprising. Oh wait, I know what happened! There are two Mr. Daniels, one teaches history and the other teaches sports marketing.

RYAN: Well, why the hell didn't you tell me that?

JACOB: I don't know, stop bitching to me about your whiny emo problems, I have problems, too. Dad said he can attend my "game" on Thursday now.

RYAN: Well, that does suck. What're you going to do? Dress up in nylon, put on a helmet, get some theatre class faggots and put on a show in the backyard?

JACOB: I was thinking that, but theatre kids aren't usually particularly athletic.

RYAN: Yeah, plus the rest of that plan generally lacks believability; I'm surprised you didn't focus on that first.

JACOB: Shut up for second, I'm trying to think.

RYAN: Fair enough. (Long silence) What the hell kind of class is sports marketing?

JACOB: I don't know.

(Cut to Ethan in a suit at his desk typing something on a laptop. On his desk lays a plaque saying "ETHAN M. DONAHUE, ASSISTANT MAYOR, HANSBAY, VERMONT", and he receives an intercom message)

MAYOR SARANDON INTERCOM: Ethan, come into my office, please.

ETHAN: Yes sir. (Ethan stands up and opens his door, and then walks down the hallway to open Mayor Sarandon's door. Mayor Sarandon is turned in his chair towards paintings on the wall behind him. He spins around in his chair upon noticing Ethan's presence.) What would you like, sir?

MAYOR SARANDON: I would like to talk to you, close the door.

(Ethan closes the door and takes a seat.)

MAYOR SARANDON: Ethan, it has come to my attention that the Hansbay Action News 5 is planning on running an expose on yours truly.

ETHAN: About what? Irrigation? Zoning? Mineral rights? What?

MAYOR SARANDON: Prostitutes. Yep, dirty, dirty prostitutes who come every night to my humble abode to pleasure my most base and callow of sexual instincts. Fellatio, anal, vaginal, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, 69, doggy style, spoons position, woman on top, T-square, the pile driver, cunnilingus, analingus, mutual masturbation, handjob, footjob, Stevejob,

ETHAN: Steve Job?

MAYOR SARANDON: Tittyfucking, axillary intercourse,

ETHAN: What the hell is that?

MAYOR SARANDON: Penis in the arm pit.

ETHAN: Wha-that exists?

MAYOR SARANDON: Threesome, double penetration-

ETHAN: Why are you telling me this??

MAYOR SARANDON: Because you need to know how bad this scandal would be for me!

ETHAN: Is it true?

MAYOR SARANDON: No, I just went into an incredibly specific tirade about how much fuck I get out of sarcasm! Of course it's true!

ETHAN: Jesus, but your dead wife-

MAYOR SARANDON: A man has to move on.

ETHAN: To prostitutes?

MAYOR SARANDON: Sure. Anyway, I need you to make sure they don't run the story.

ETHAN: Like, by bribing them?

MAYOR SARANDON: No, these people will not be satisfied by bribery alone. You need to show them a good time.

ETHAN: Maybe I should get them some prostitutes.

MAYOR SARANDON: Well, that's a start.

ETHAN: Not being serious.

MAYOR SARANDON: Oh, okay. Anyway, be sure to also give them something they can use in the long term, something they wouldn't want to sacrifice for some career-boosting news story.

ETHAN: Fine. Is it all female prostitutes?

MAYOR SARANDON: Fuck you.

(Cut to Mr. Daniels, a more eccentric sports marketing teacher with unkempt blonde hair, a plaid shirt, tan jeans and VANS shoes teaching a class.)

OTHER MR. DANIELS: The key to marketing sports drinks is simple, ladies and gentleman. Sweat always has to be a different color than it should be! For example, (He pulls up a projector, switches the lights off and presses the button to show a black man sweating Gatorade) this Negro man-

(Class gasps)

OTHER MR. DANIELS: Is sweating blue Gatorade! Now, what color is sweat usually, Pamela?

GIRL: Not my name.

OTHER MR. DANIELS: Janet?

GIRL: Not even close.

OTHER MR. DANIELS: Just, answer the question, Dana.

GIRL: It's clear, Mr. Daniels.

OTHER MR. DANIELS: CORRECT! (The school bell chimes and students start gathering their things) Remember, there is a quiz on sweat color next class. It's one question, so study! (As students begin leaving, Ryan comes in to greet the other Mr. Daniels.) Can I help you, son?

RYAN: Yes you can, Mr. Daniels. I hate to go out on a limb here Mr. Daniels, but-

OTHER MR. DANIELS: Please, call me Jack.

RYAN: Your name is Jack Daniels?

JACK DANIELS: Yes. Is something wrong with that?

RYAN: I guess not? Anyway, I was wondering, (Looks behind him as the last student funnels out of the room) Do you sell ecstasy?

JACK DANIELS: Oh, I see a bit of rebellion in this one.

RYAN: Excuse me?

JACK DANIELS: It seems you let your clothing, music, drugs and depression dictate how you live because it's some sort of proxy battle on your unsupportive father and society in general for making you so sad, but you fail to recognize the real causes of your depression because that would require making a personality and outlook change, which you're not willing to do.

RYAN: …What?

JACK DANIELS: Sorry, I majored in psychology.

RYAN: Fuck you, dude and just give me the ecstasy.

JACK DANIELS: If only it were that simple.

RYAN: What do I have to do?

JACK DANIELS: Pay me forty dollars per tablet.

RYAN: Christ, ecstasy prices are sky-high.

JACK DANIELS: Well, the price of a barrel of ecstasy is like 4,000 dollars nowadays.

RYAN: Why is that?

JACK DANIELS: Well, it's partially due to MDMA speculators and the Iranian threat to block the Strait of Hormuz where all those E shipments go through, it's disrupted the world methylenedioxymethamphetamine market.

RYAN: I think you're thinking of oil.

JACK DANIELS: I KNOW WHAT I THINK!

RYAN: …Okay?

JACK DANIELS: How many tablets do you need?

RYAN: Three.

JACK DANIELS: That'll be 120 dollars.

RYAN: Um…I only have forty dollars.

JACK DANIELS: Then you my friend are the weakest link, goodbye!

(Jack disappears under his desk, cut to Jacob talking to Coach Weave in the locker room.)

JACOB: Hey coach.

COACH WEAVE: Hey, Jacob, how ya doin'?

JACOB: Fine, coach listen-

COACH WEAVE: How's your daddy?

JACOB: He's fine, still very conservative.

COACH WEAVE: How's your momma?

JACOB: She's terrific, listen though-

COACH WEAVE: How's your brother?

JACOB: Still faggy as ever, can we talk about-

COACH WEAVE: How's your momma's brother?

JACOB: My mom doesn't have a brother; can we talk about something, coach?

COACH WEAVE: What's on your mind, Jakey?

JACOB: Don't call me that, my dad thinks I still play for your team, and now he is expecting to go to a game this Thursday, that doesn't exist. I don't know how I'm going to handle this.

COACH WEAVE: Well it sounds like you're going to need to rejoin the team. Quick, (Pulls out steroid needle) inject this into your ass.

JACOB: No, I'm not going to punch a kitten again, I need to practice.

COACH WEAVE: But you suck.

JACOB: What kind of coach are you? Most coaches would give me, like, an inspirational speech, you know, clear eyes, full heart, can't lose, but you-you're just…annoyed by that.

COACH WEAVE: Jacob, if you really want to impress your parents, you would come clean to them and tell them that you suck at playing sports and you're not playing one.

JACOB: Right…is there any other option?

COACH WEAVE: Well, does your dad know what sport you "play"?

JACOB: No. He doesn't know a lot about sports in general.

COACH WEAVE: Then go to Coach Diaz and get involved with a sport he would never want to go and see.

(Cut to Jacob and Coach Diaz on a golf course, both wearing cackies and polo shirts holding golf clubs. Coach Diaz is wearing tan cackies and a green polo, Jacob is wearing tan cackies and a blue polo)

JACOB: I'm ready to bask in mediocrity, coach!

COACH DIAZ: You've come to the right place. Now let's work on cursing excessively when you don't get the right swing.

JACOB: Okay.

(Jacob places a ball on the green as Coach Diaz moves out of the way. He lines his club up and swings, sending the ball flying to the far left.)

JACOB: MOTHERFUCKING CUNT LICK!

COACH DIAZ: Good. Now watch. (He places another ball on the green, swings at it, and it flies far to the right.) PUSSY-ASS DICK TITS!

(Cut to Ethan out at dinner with some people from Hansbay Action News 5. The restaurant is a dimly light Italian place, with waiters and people hustling and bustling every which way. There are two men in suits, one a young, handsome reporter with brown hair and a navy blue suit jacket, black tie and white shirt, and the other an older, thinning, gray-haired reporter with a tweed jacket, dark blue shirt and a black tie, smoking a cigar. A waiter comes over.)

WAITER: Hi, I'm Shane; I'll be serving you today. Can I get you guys anything to drink?

ETHAN: Hello, Shane, I'll have the straight, hard Kentucky Bourbon.

SHANE: We don't have that.

ETHAN: Alright, how about the straight, hard Nevada doot?

SHANE: I don't think that exists.

ETHAN: Fine, a tall Miller, stout black.

SHANE: Okay, and for you?

YOUNG GUY: I'll have a sweet tea.

SHANE: We only have unsweet.

ETHAN: Whoa, these are my guests, don't be an asshole, get them what they desire.

YOUNG GUY: It's fine, really.

ETHAN: It's not fine, I don't care if you have to milk a sweet cow to get that sweet tea, I want it done!

SHANE: I really can't, sorry. I'll get you unsweet. For you, sir?

OLDER GUY: I'll have water, thank you.

SHANE: Okay, I'll be right back with that and I'll come to take your full order.

(Shane leaves)

ETHAN: Believe that guy?

YOUNG GUY: Yes, actually.

ETHAN: Whatever. It's so nice to have you two out with me tonight.

YOUNG GUY: Oh, it's a pleasure for us as well.

OLDER GUY: Absolutely.

ETHAN: So, Richard, Matthew, I heard you are going to run a pretty incendiary story about my friend and boss, Brian Sarandon, correct?

MATTHEW: If by incendiary you mean true, then yeah.

ETHAN: (Laughs) How do you know it's true?

RICHARD: Well, my son did a story about poverty in the red light district of downtown Hansbay, and he stumbled upon a whore who showed records of Mayor Sarandon's sexual escapades with prostitutes.

MATTHEW: Yeah, and he's sexually inclined towards some pretty weird stuff. Ever heard of axillary intercourse?

ETHAN: Unfortunately, yes. Listen, this story is not in the public interest whether it's true or not.

RICHARD: How? Don't the people of Hansbay deserve to know whether their leader has integrity or not?

ETHAN: What is integrity really?

MATTHEW: Adherence to moral and ethical principles; soundness of moral character; honesty.

ETHAN: Right, but that's the dictionary definition, and Mayor Sarandon has plenty of integrity. He leaps and frolics in it; he appropriated that money for the playground system at the city council's suggestion,

RICHARD: The playgrounds were made of steel, in the summer children would get severe burns from just using them.

MATTHEW: Plus, they managed to somehow use asbestos when making an outdoor playground.

ETHAN: Well, he apologized for that. But, he also made attempts to control the homeless population.

RICHARD: He commissioned a company to build gates around all the upper-income neighborhoods to keep the homeless out, he put up signs that said "Homeless keep off the grass" and he paid them twenty dollars a day at the Hansbay Festival to walk around with routers to give people internet access.

ETHAN: Hey, south by southwest thought it was a good idea!

MATTHEW: By the way, he also somehow managed to have asbestos used when making the gates.

ETHAN: OKAY, OKAY, FINE! But perhaps you would be less inclined to run the piece if I paid you a million dollars.

RICHARD: You realize how much money we're going to make from this story? We'll probably get jobs at CNN, MSNBC or FOX News.

ETHAN: How about this then, a million dollars, plus I take your family to Sea World in Orlando, Florida during Easter Break.

MATTHEW: Who are you talking to?

ETHAN: I don't know…you?

MATTHEW: That's a terrible offer, I can take them myself.

ETHAN: Okay, how about a longer term deal?

RICHARD: Like what?

ETHAN: If you don't run the story, I'll provide your children tuition.

MATTHEW: Do you have enough money to do that?

ETHAN: No, I just kind of went out on a limb there. Took a shot in the dark, brought a knife to a gunfight, went in half-cocked, cannon balled into a shallow pool,

RICHARD: Okay, we get it. Quite frankly, you have just made things considerably worse for yourself-

(The waiter comes around and puts down everybody's drinks)

SHANE: Alright, are you guys ready to order?

ALL THREE: NO!

SHANE: …'Kay then I'll be back.

(Shane exits stage right)

RICHARD: Like I was saying, you have made things considerably worse for yourself by trying to bribe us, because we'll add that to the story. And by the way, it airs TONIGHT. We're gone.

(They both get up and throw their dinner towels on the table and leave.)

ETHAN: Oh no…

(Cut to Ryan talking to Brennan and Sarah, Brennan is a yay-high scene/emo kid with long, straightened brown hair with olive skin wearing a black "Death Promise" t-shirt with black super skinny jeans while Sarah is a skinny scene/emo girl with dyed red and black hair, red lipstick, white skin, a black "Dark veil Grooms" t-shirt with black super skinny jeans)

RYAN: Well, we're sucked.

BRENNAN: How do you figure that?

RYAN: Three tablets of E cost 120 dollars. There is no goddamn way we could afford that.

SARAH: Well, we could pony up the dough, I'm sure.

RYAN: How?

BRENNAN: We could get jobs.

RYAN: Where? Hot Topic?

BRENNAN: Yeah, actually.

SARAH: It's what I was thinking.

RYAN: Yeah, that's actually pretty reasonable. Remember, keep your dead eyes and souls on the prize, and the prize is 2-4 hours of irrational euphoria filled with unbridled energy, homoerotic love and lack of inhibition before a gradual depressive state.

BRENNAN AND SARAH: Fuck yeah!

RYAN: Yes. And we'll go to the Hansbay Mall this weekend and apply for a weekend gig at Hot Topic.

BRENNAN: That's going to be a fun job. Who wouldn't want to deal with angsty teenagers and uncomfortable dads all day?

SARAH: I know!

(Cut to Ethan walking down the street in a bad neighborhood filled with dilapidated houses, low-quality cars, drug dealers, graffiti, the homeless and prostitutes.)

ETHAN: This is so bad. Mayor Sarandon's political career is over tonight. There's essentially nothing I can do at this point.

(A black prostitute in a short skirt, heels and skanky top walks up Ethan)

PROSTITUTE: Hey, baby. You seem stressed. Would you like some axillary intercourse?

ETHAN: No ma'am, I'm fine. Hey, do you know a guy named Matthew Chambliss?

PROSTITUTE: Oh yeah, he works for the Hansbay News, right?

ETHAN: Yeah, has he spoken to you?

PROSTITUTE: Spoken to me? He's one of my biggest customers.

(Ethan's eyes widen)

ETHAN: WHAT?

(Cut to Matthew coaching an anchor on his lines in a studio back room.)

MATTHEW: Remember Patrick, it's "Hundreds of Syrian protestors killed" not "Hundreds of Syrian protestors killed."

PATRICK: I see.

(Matthew receives a call.)

MATTHEW: Hello?

ETHAN: (On the phone) Hello, Matt.

MATTHEW: What the fuck do you want?

ETHAN: Oh, nothing, I just ran into a little someone in the hood named Tyra Sterns. Apparently, you have a case of jungle fever, my friend. (Matthew's eyes widen) And she's willing to tell this story if you run that story about Mayor Sarandon tonight.

MATTHEW: Fuck you, and your dick.

ETHAN: That's good, let it all out, Matt. But don't let it all out like you did on Tyra's face.

MATTHEW: (Clears throat) The story won't be run.

ETHAN: Good. Because I'm sure there is a kitten stuck in a tree somewhere that the public desperately needs to hear about. Goodbye, Matt.

(Ethan hangs up. Cut to Ethan, Kimberly, Ryan, Jacob and Madeline around the dinner table eating pork chops.)

ETHAN: So, how was everybody's day?

KIMBERLY: Well, I watched a very interesting World War II documentary-

ETHAN: No one cares. Jacob?

JACOB: Oh, I just practiced, dad. Excited for the game on Thursday?

ETHAN: Elated. I can't wait to see how-wait, what sport do you play again?

JACOB: Golf.

ETHAN: Oh, um…on second thought, I think I have a dentist appointment that day.

JACOB: Understandable.

RYAN: What did I do today?

ETHAN: Nobody asked that.

RYAN: I decided I am going to apply for a job.

ETHAN: Oh, good. My boy's taking some initiative. Where?

RYAN: Hot Topic.

ETHAN: And you lost me.

KIMBERLY: Well come on, Ethan, it's not that bad. When are you applying?

RYAN: This weekend with Brennan and Sarah.

JACOB: Well that's bound to create conflict and discord.

RYAN: That's true.

KIMBERLY: How much would it pay?

RYAN: It's actually pretty good pay, eight dollars and forty-six cents an hour.

MADELINE: Impressive.

KIMBERLY: No, it's not because that's actually the new Vermont minimum wage.

ETHAN: Fuckin' liberals, paying my son more than he deserves. How much work goes into working at Hot Topic anyhow? Folding shirts? Folding jeans? Suggesting new techniques for devil worshipping? Work at American Eagle or something.

RYAN: Ugh, no.

ETHAN: What'd you do today, Maddie?

MADELINE: I blanketed the school in Kony 2012 posters with the Invisible Children Club.

ETHAN: Ooh, is Kony some sort of conservative dark horse candidate alternative to Mitt Romney?

MADELINE: No, he's-

ETHAN: KONY 2012!

JACOB: Dad, he's a Ugandan warlord whose organization, the LRA, has killed, raped and maimed thousands and has raised child armies.

ETHAN: Jesus, why would you support him for President?

MADELINE: We're not supporting him for President, we're trying to raise awareness so Washington politicians can try and stop his atrocities.

ETHAN: Huh…is he at least somewhat conservative?

RYAN, JACOB, MADELINE AND KIMBERLY: NO!

ETHAN: Fine! Jesus…

KIMBERLY: Ethan, I thought you supported Mitt Romney, I mean; you seemed to be in love with him last week at Mayor Sarandon's mansion.

ETHAN: Yeah, but when I found out Santorum wants to ban porn and Gingrich wants to build a moon colony, I saw Romney as less ambitious. I mean, could you imagine a jail for porn users…on the moon? It would be amazing in a Santorum-Gingrich administration. What is Romney proposing? A moon colony where Josef Smith's reanimated corpse has sex with eleven women at a time? Please.

RYAN: Banning porn, really? It's a multibillion dollar industry which court cases has proved is protected under the first amendment. Plus, it gives women across America much needed self-esteem.

ETHAN: Well, that last part is valid.

KIMBERLY: No it isn't!

ETHAN: Whatever the case may be, I saved Mayor Sarandon's career from dying today. I had to cover up a scandal that was going to air on the news tonight.

JACOB: What was it?

ETHAN: Oh, I'll never tell. (He looks at the camera and winks as the camera zooms in on his face. Slowly, it backs back up to show the full shot)

RYAN: …The fuck are you looking at?

(Fade to black)

THE END





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