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The Donahues Episode 4

Script By: NEONETWORK
Humor



Ryan, Brennan, Sarah and Michelle get kidnapped by anti-Emo terrorists and are taken to Iraq, Jacob and his friends get high at a bowling alley, Detectives investigate the disappearance of the four and Ethan and Kimberly argue


Submitted:May 28, 2012    Reads: 12    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   


THE DONAHUES

"EMOLOCAUST"

TV-MA LV

"The fence, cold, hard, tall - divides humans from humans, it should be torn down!"

  • Alyssa Steele

(We start with Ethan and Kimberly In the living room one night, talking to Ryan, Jacob and Madeline. Ryan is wearing black super skinny jeans and an "Order of Dirt" shirt, Jacob is wearing jeans and a white t-shirt, Madeline is wearing blue skinny jeans and a white TYLER'S V-neck, Ethan is wearing a collar and a sweater vest with cackies, Kimberly is wearing jeans with a t-shirt and necklace.)

ETHAN: So essentially, kids, we're going to a concerto.

JACOB: A concerto?

KIMBERLY: A concert.

JACOB: I know, it was just weird how he said it.

ETHAN: This concert is going to be great, Kim and I are excited.

RYAN: What band?

ETHAN: Well, they don't dress like faggots, so I guess you wouldn't really care, huh?

JACOB: Nice!

(Jacob and Ethan high-five)

KIMBERLY: Anyway, feed the oven and turn off the dog, because we're Audi.

(They walk out the door)

RYAN: Awesome. BRENNAN, SARAH, MICHELLE!

(Brennan, who is wearing dark blue skinny jeans and a "Serrate" shirt, Sarah, who is wearing black skinny jeans and a "Guts on the Disco Ball" shirt and Michelle, who is wearing partially torn black skinny jeans and a "VOLCANE" shirt, come out of a closet)

JACOB: Oh, this is awesome.

RYAN: If you'll excuse me, we'll be upstairs.

JACOB: Oh, I'll excuse you guys.

MADELINE: Don't form a suicide pact up there!

JACOB: Nice!

(Jacob high fives Madeline)

RYAN: Fine, don't form a pregnancy pact down here!

JACOB: Oh! Nicer!

(Jacob high fives Ryan as Brennan, Sarah and Michelle funnel upstairs, Ryan follows. Cut to all of them in Ryan's room decorated with posters from his favorite bands.)

RYAN: Okay, so here is the X. (He takes out a baggie with three ecstasy tablets and places it in the middle of the room as everyone sits down on the floor.) Michelle, get yours out. (Michelle takes out a baggie with her own ecstasy tablet) Good. Now, should we all take it at the same time, or…?

BRENNAN: How about we all take it five minutes after each other with Ryan going first, therefore, we're all on different levels and have different perspectives.

SARAH: How about one of us takes two and the rest take one except for two people who will split one?

MICHELLE: How about we take one every other Sunday and Friday, except on Jewish holidays.

RYAN: Guys! Guys! It's like you've never done ecstasy before.

BRENNAN: We haven't.

SARAH: Yeah, I haven't.

MICHELLE: Neither have I. Have you?

RYAN: Yeah, I have, and my old dealer died, so now I use Mr. Daniels.

MICHELLE: You got this from a teacher?

RYAN: Yeah, why?

MICHELLE: You probably got so ripped off!

RYAN: What do you mean?

MICHELLE: These are probably like, smarties.

BRENNAN: Or soap.

RYAN: No, I know what ecstasy looks like-soap?

BRENNAN: Yeah.

RYAN: These are tiny, how the hell do they look like soap?

BRENNAN: What?

SARAH: Focus, people.

(They hear a car parking in the driveway)

RYAN: The hell?

(They look outside the window to see Ethan and Kimberly getting out of the car and walking inside)

BRENNAN: Dude, why are your parents back?

RYAN: I don't know! Maybe they forgot something. (Ryan runs downstairs and greets them) Hey guys, what are you doing back?

ETHAN: We realized the concert was on Saturday.

KIMBERLY: Silly us!

RYAN: Oh. Well, maybe you guys want to go to dinner!

ETHAN: No, we're-uh, we're fine here.

KIMBERLY: I feel like Grey's Anatomy.

ETHAN: Oh, I love that show.

KIMBERLY: No, I mean, reading Grey's Anatomy.

ETHAN: There's a book?

RYAN: Guys, you could go to the mall!

ETHAN: Oh, fuck me. I know what this is about. BRENNAN, SARAH, GET DOWN HERE!

RYAN: Dad, don't talk to them like that.

(Brennan, Sarah and Michelle come down.)

ETHAN: Well, well, well, we even have a newcomer to the band of faggotry. What are you guys doing?

RYAN: Dad, this is Michelle, she's my boss at Hot Topic.

ETHAN: I don't care if she's your BOSS at Hot Topic,

RYAN: She is.

ETHAN: I want you four OUT of here!

RYAN: What? You've allowed us to be here before!

ETHAN: Yeah, but you guys are clearly hiding something from me, if you wanted us to be gone so badly.

RYAN: Ugh, fucking fine. Let's go.

(All four walk out; Ryan does so in a huff)

JACOB: Way to stand your ground, dad. It was starting to smell like hair straightener burn in here.

ETHAN: Well, you know, I had to put my foot down. What are you doing tonight, Jacob?

JACOB: I am going to go bowling with Peter, Beckett, Ross and Lilly.

ETHAN: Well, you four have fun.

JACOB: You mean us five?

ETHAN: No, you said Peter Beckett, Ross and Lilly.

JACOB: No, Peter AND Beckett, two different people.

ETHAN: Oh, well I misunderstood then.

JACOB: Clearly, I'm glad we got that cleared up.

ETHAN: Yeah.

(Cut to Ryan, Brennan, Sarah and Michelle walking in a nearby forest at night)

BRENNAN: I don't feel safe here.

SARAH: Yeah, I feel like I'm going to get raped.

RYAN: By whom?

SARAH: Well, most rapists know their victims.

BRENNAN: What are you implying?

SARAH: Nothing.

RYAN: Whom did you even get that statistic from?

SARAH: It's just common knowledge, and stop saying "whom"!

RYAN: Whom the hell are you to tell me to stop saying whom?!

SARAH: You're not even doing it right!

MCHELLE: Guys, stop fighting, and let's just find a good place to do the X.

RYAN: Michelle's right.

(They sit down near some trees, when suddenly, bright lights shine upon them.)

SARAH: Jesus, that's bright.

(Two trucks have pulled up, and two Arabs in traditional Islamic clothing exit the trucks)

ARAB 1: اطفال الايمو، فقط ما نبحث عنه، وعمر..

(SUBTITLES: Emo kids, just what we are looking for today)

RYAN: Oh, fuck.

(Ryan flashes back to when he was watching TV and he saw this report on Iraqi terrorists murdering Iraqi emo kids: http://www.cnn.com/video/#/video/international/2012/03/12/tsr-todd-iraq-emo-killings.cnn, flash forward to the present)

ARAB 2: ننظر القمصان عبادة الشيطان، وشعرهم شاذ جنسيا تقويمها.

(SUBTITLES: Look at their devil-worship shirts and their hair straightened all gay)

(They both laugh)

RYAN: Run.

(They all dart away, but the Arab men are hot on their pursuit of them. Eventually, the Arabs are assisted by other Arabs who emerge from the back seat. Arab 1 and Arab 2 tackle Ryan and Michelle, Arab 3 and 4 tackle Brennan and Sarah. Cut to the Arab men driving their pick-up truck with Ryan, Michelle, Sarah and Brennan tied up in the back)

ARAB 1: الى اين نحن ذاهبون إلى أن تأخذ هذه يولد من الشيطان؟ العراق؟ أفغانستان؟ أوزبكستان؟ كازاخستان؟ باكستان؟ بعض رجل يدعى ستان؟

(SUBTITLES: Where are taking these spawns of Satan? Iraq? Afghanistan? Uzbekistan? Kazakhstan? Pakistan? Some guy named Stan?)

ARAB 2: العراق. حيث ان لعبة قتل الايمو كبيرة. الآن أن تلك اللعينة الله قوات الولايات المتحدة هي من هناك، يمكننا الحصول على اساسيات قتل يوم حقل، في جميع أنحاء العالم. وكل ذلك باسم الله. الله أكبر. على حد تعبير القرآن الكريم، وقال "اذا عجبت تمتد يدك ضدي، لتقتلني، فليس لي أن تمتد يدي اليك لأذبح ضد اليك: لأفعل اتقوا الله، فإن رب العالمين".

(SUBTITLES: Iraq. That's where the emo killing game is big. Now that those goddamned United States troops are out of there, we can have a field day killing emos, the world over. All in the name of Allah. God is great. To quote the holy Koran, "If thou dost stretch thy hand against me, to slay me, it is not for me to stretch my hand against thee to slay thee: for I do fear God, the cherisher of the worlds.")

ARAB 3: انتظر، لذلك لماذا لم نهاجم هؤلاء الكفار الأميركي منذ عشر سنين ونصف سنة؟

(SUBTITLES: Wait, so why did we attack those American infidels ten and a half years ago?)

ARAB 2: لأنهم كانوا يجري المتسكعون وقصف لنا.

(SUBTITLES: Because they were being assholes and bombing us)

ARAB 3: نعم، لكنني عند الرجال المعينين لي باعتباري احد الشباب الصغار، وضعف التأثر في دمشق، لم يفكر أبدا في أن آية القرآن الكريم، من قال صراحة ممنوع انتقام من قبل القانون من أحكام الشريعة الإسلامية.

(SUBTITLES: Yeah, but when you guys recruited me as a young, impressionable poor youth in Damascus, I never thought about that noble Koran verse, it explicitly said revenge is forbidden by the law of Shariah.)

(There is five seconds of silence before it cuts to a creek in the forest. The pick-up truck drives by, throws Arab 3 out on the grass, stops, when Arab 2 comes out and shoots him multiple times in the head, chest and face, before driving off, spewing dirt from behind. Cut to Jacob, Beckett, Lilly, Peter and Ross at the bowling alley front door. Beckett is a white kid with blonde hair, Lilly is a white skinny girl with brown hair, Peter is a white kid with curly brown hair and Ross is a black kid. They are all wearing standard teenage fare, blue jeans, t-shirts; some collared plaid shirts, etc.)

JACOB: Wait, we actually went to the bowling alley?

ROSS: Yeah, what'd you think?

JACOB: I don't know, I thought maybe, smoke weed, drink, you know, things that make me forget about how miserable my family makes me.

BECKETT: I second that motion.

ROSS: Trust me guys; there are better things to life.

PETER: Well, yeah, shrooms are great, but let's not get too crazy.

ROSS: No, I mean, we can just have fun in our current states of mind, uninhibited my drugs or alcohol.

LILLY: What the hell? I thought you had connections with dealers who could get us quality bud for a low price, or a couple of G20s.

JACOB: What's a G-20?

LILLY: It's either a drug or an annual meeting of treasurers and finance ministers from nineteen countries and the European Union.

ROSS: It's definitely the latter, plus, why did you think I had access to drugs?

JACOB: I thought you had the hooks up!

ROSS: That's not a reason; it's just restating your misconception!

JACOB: Well, if you must know, it's due to the copious amounts of melanin in your skin.

ROSS: Because I'm black?

JACOB: Damnit! I thought I was speaking in code.

ROSS: No, you were just using flowery verbiage. (The rest give him a blank stare for a while) Big words.

(They all nod to indicate they understand. Then, Lilly gets a text and checks it)

LILLY: Hey guys, I just got a text saying that my buddy Clark has the hooks-up of premium hash blazin' hash storm ultra-nificent bug.

ROSS: That doesn't sound…what?

JACOB: That sounds balling. Ross, do you want to join this clam bake? We're gonna clam bake this damn cake for God's sake.

ROSS: No, I'm fine.

JACOB: Well, I don't want to leave him out. Maybe we shouldn't smoke around him, let's not be assholes.

BECKETT: Okay, that's fair.

(Cut to Jacob, Beckett, Lilly and Peter in a large storage room full of bowling balls taking turns smoking from a pipe. Currently, Beckett is taking a monster hit while Ross sits to the side not smoking anything.)

LILLY, PETER AND JACOB: GO! GO! GO!

(Beckett stops, holds it in for a few second and then exhales, creating a foggy mist of pot smoke while everybody but Beckett and Ross cheer. As the cheering subsides, Jacob turns to Ross.)

JACOB: Dude, you sure you don't want this gravy?

ROSS: No, I'm fine, bro.

JACOB: Alright man, I respect that. You're staying above all the pressure and shit. (Pause) You sure?

ROSS: Yes, Jesus…hey, Jacob, you said you smoke pot and drink to make you forget about your horrid family life. What exactly is wrong with it?

JACOB: Dude…where the fuck do I start? My dad is a strict, ultra-conservative Christian dude who's an idiot half the time, right? My mom is this smug, whiny, easily aggrieved liberal chick who thinks she knows what is best for me when she has no idea who I even am. My sister's a slut and my brother, OH, my fucking brother, don't even get me started. He's a whiny,

(Cut to Ryan in a dimly light room tied with a rope back to back with Michelle, they are both looking distressed. Arab 1 comes in and whips Ryan in the back with a whip)

RYAN: AGHHH!! FUCK!!!

(Cut back)

JACOB: Emo,

(Cut to Arab 2 in a dimly light room with a table Ryan is sitting at. Arab 2 socks Ryan in the mouth. Cut back)

JACOB: And he just-ugh, I'm sorry, I must be harshing your guys' collective buzz.

BECKETT: Yeah, you are.

JACOB: You're not supposed to say that, you're supposed to assure me that I'm not!

PETER: But you are!

(Cut to Ryan and Michelle in the dimly light room with Arab 4, both sitting down. Ryan and Michelle are both still tied up, but are no longer facing back to back)

ARAB 4: So while we wait for Muhammad to return, we shall wait.

RYAN: No shit.

MICHELLE: Could you not be sarcastic to the fucking terrorist?

RYAN: Sorry, sorry.

MICHELLE: Hey, where are we? How long has it been? We last remember being in the van, and now we're in this weirdly dark building with no air conditioning. It's really hot.

ARAB 4: Yeah, you're in Baghdad.

(Stunned silence)

RYAN: WHAT?

ARAB 4: Yeah, we smuggled you on a private jet our friend Kamil gave us.

RYAN: Who is that, the ground zero mosque guy?

MICHELLE: RYAN!

ARAB 4: No, he's just another terrorist, there's a lot of them. As for Muhammad, he's not just any other terrorist.

MICHELLE: How do you figure?

ARAB 4: Osama Bin Laden was his brother.

RYAN: Jesus Christ…wait, didn't Bin Laden have like fifty siblings?

ARAB 4: Fine, he's Bin Laden's half-brother.

MICHELLE: How do you know English but they don't?

ARAB 4: They know English too, but they also know Americans get scared shitless when they hear Arabic jabber. وأتمنى لكم أفضل

RYAN: AGH! DON'T KILL ME!

ARAB 4: I said "I wish you the best".

RYAN: Oh…sorry. Hey, what's your name?

ARAB 4: Iqbal.

MICHELLE: Are you cool?

IQBAL: I'm a terrorist.

RYAN: Yeah, but you seem different than the others, will you let us out?

(Iqbal takes out a gun and pistol whips Ryan in the face)

RYAN: FUCK! FUCK! MOTHERFUCKING COCKSUCKER, PIECE OF CUNT SHIT!

IQBAL: أنا لست مختلفة، والأحمق! الموت لأميركا! وفاة لاساسيات!

(SUBTITLES: "I'M NOT DIFFERENT, ASSHOLE! DEATH TO AMERICA! DEATH TO EMOS!")

MICHELLE: Hey, listen, man, I didn't do anything…

IQBAL: FUCK YOU, WHORE!

MICHELLE: O-okay.

(Ryan spits blood on the ground while he struggles to recover. Cut to Ethan and Kimberly watching TV and acting worrisome)

ETHAN: Where the hell is Jacob?

KIMBERLY: He called you ten minutes ago saying he'd be home at midnight.

ETHAN: Yeah, and it's 11:50.

KIMBERLY: Give him time. I'm more concerned about Ryan; his phone is going straight to voice mail.

ETHAN: He never charges that thing, he's takes up the outlets charging his hair straightener. (Chuckles)

KIMBERLY: Can you be serious for a second, Ethan? I'm worried.

ETHAN: He's fine, I'm sure him and his fag friends got distracted by a Dark Veil Grooms concert poster blowing gently down a street. (Chuckles)

KIMBERLY: Damnit, Ethan.

ETHAN: Sorry! How can I resist, Kim?

KIMBERLY: By not saying shit like that when I'm worried about our son. You know, you really should be nicer to him. So, yeah he's emo, whiny, depressed, obnoxious and unmotivated, but ever think you exacerbate those problems by constantly putting him down?

ETHAN: Kim, I raised him well! YOU are the one who fucked him up! While I was at work, YOU did something to HIM.

(Kimberly stands up)

KIMBERLY: THAT'S BULLSHIT! He became the way he is because YOU were never there, YOU never supported him!

(Ethan stands up)

ETHAN: WHERE THE FUCK WERE YOU??

KIMBERLY: I had a job too, ETHAN! Until you decided I had to stay home with the kids during the summer of '09 to keep them under control while they were slowly evolving into pricks, and I HAVEN'T HAD A JOB SINCE!

ETHAN: I WANTED YOU TO CORRECT THEM BEFORE IT WAS TOO LATE, SO I COULD SUPPORT THIS GODDAMN FAMILY!

KIMBERLY: CORRECT THEM? THAT WAS THREE YEARS AGO, ETHAN! THE DAMAGE WAS ALREADY DONE!

ETHAN: YOU KNOW GODDAMN WELL THE DEMANDS OF MY JOB!

KIMBERLY: SO YOU COULDN'T FIND TIME TO PLAY CATCH WITH RYAN OR TALK TO JACOB ABOUT ALCOHOL AND DRUGS OR TEACH MADDIE THE BIRDS AND THE BEES? THAT'S BULLSHIT, YOU DIDN'T TRY! YOU THINK THIS FAMILY CAN DEPEND ON MONEY ALONE? NO! THIS FAMILY NEEDS STRUCTURE, THIS FAMILY NEEDS EMOTIONAL SUPPORT, AND WHILE THE BANK OF MONEY FILLS UP, THE BANK OF STRUCTURE AND THE BANK OF EMOTIONAL SUPPORT CONTINUE TO DEPLETE! GOOD JOB, YOU BROUGHT IN AN INCOME, BUT YOU FORGOT THAT IF CHILDREN DON'T HAVE A FATHER TO RAISE THEM, THEY'LL TURN TO THEIR MUSIC, OR THEIR FRIENDS, OR DRUGS, OR ALCOHOL, THE INTERNET OR TELEVISION TO DO IT INSTEAD!

ETHAN: WHY THE FUCK DIDN'T YOU RAISE THEM??

(Kimberly walks up to Ethan and slaps him)

KIMBERLY: …I did. I'M the only reason they're not DRUG ADDICTS RIGHT NOW! They're only half-fucked up, BECAUSE OF ME! BUT YOU DIDN'T DO YOUR SIDE OF THE EQUATION!

ETHAN: …Kimberly. Look at me. I would NEVER hit you. I would ask that you do me the same courtesy.

(Kimberly steps back and looks down, ashamed. She looks back up and into Ethan's eyes)

KIMBERLY: …I'm sorry.

ETHAN: It's okay.

(Jacob comes in, clearly drunk and high, as you can hear his friends screaming and driving off into the distance)

JACOB: Hey…

ETHAN: What have you been doing?

(Kimberly turns toward Jacob)

JACOB: We were-they were- we were just-

ETHAN: Produce your voice, Jacob.

JACOB: We were at the bowling alley. Here's a-(hiccup) here's a game card.

(Jacob takes out a coaster from a bar and hands it to Ethan)

ETHAN: This is a coaster from a bar, Jacob.

JACOB: Fuck, I didn't mean to hand you that, hold on.

(Jacob takes out a note and hands it to Ethan)

ETHAN: This has a phone number and the words "He's got the good stuff" right next to it.

JACOB: You can't prove that's a drug dealer.

(Ethan flips the card around)

ETHAN: It says "He's a drug dealer" on the back.

JACOB: (Hiccup) Fuck.

ETHAN: Jacob, I am disappointed.

KIMBERLY: So am I.

JACOB: Daaaaad! (Hiccup) We're gonna-we're gonna win state this year, remember?

ETHAN: Shut up, Jacob. Go to your room, get some rest, we'll talk about this in the morning.

JACOB: Okay.

(He awkwardly shuffles up the stairs. Cut to two investigators in the forest where Ryan, Michelle, Sarah and Brennan got kidnapped. They are both wearing suits, hats and trench coats and talking to a local man, both of them having pads and pencils out)

INVESTIGATOR 1: Hello, Mr. Taylors. I'm Detective Zimmerman and this is Detective Reynolds. Now you say you heard commotion a few hours ago?

MR. TAYLORS: Yes I did.

DETECTIVE ZIMMERMAN: Do you remember exactly what happened, Mr. Taylors?

MR. TAYLORS: Well, I remember there being a lot of ruckus, I work right outside the forest, and I heard a lot of Arabic shouting, a lot of engines roaring and a lot of people screaming. In fact, I'm writing a poem about it. (He takes out a piece of paper) "Engines roaring, people screaming, Arabic shouting, my heart is beating, faster than a thousand-"

DETECTIVE REYNOLDS: That's really okay, Mr. Taylors. Did you see anything?

MR. TAYLORS: No sir, Detective Reynolds. I just heard stuff. I address that in the poem.

DETECTIVE REYNOLDS: I see. Do you have any idea where they might have gone?

MR. TAYLORS: Well, if they're terrorists, which I think they are because I heard on the news that they're trying to recruit in this area, but if they are then I would say they probably went to that small airport off of interstate 91. Do you know where that is?

DETECTIVE REYNOLDS: You kidding me, George knows this place like the back of his hand.

MR. TAYLORS: "Back of my hand, as I look at it, I see despair, yet demand, my mind is manned by a clan of media rats and fat cats and bad raps."

DETECTIVE ZIMMERMAN: Please stop.

MR. TAYLORS: Sorry. I'm trying to get my poetry out there. Wait, your name is George?

DETECTIVE ZIMMERMAN: (Sighs) …Yes.

MR. TAYLORS: Ooh, not a good name to have right now, Detective Zimmerman.

DETECTIVE ZIMMERMAN: Yeah, like you're not the fiftieth person to tell me that. Why don't you write a fuckin' poem about it?

DETECTIVE REYNOLDS: Calm down, George.

DETECTIVE ZIMMERMAN: Fine.

(Cut to Zimmerman and Reynolds talking to a small airport owner in an airplane hangar)

ZIMMERMAN: Hello, do you own this place?

OWNER: Yes sir, I do. What is this about?

ZIMMERMAN: I see. I'm Detective Zimmerman, this is Detective Reynolds and we're from the Hansbay Police Department's missing persons division.

REYNOLDS: We're investigating a possible kidnapping.

OWNER: Jesus. Okay, detectives, whatever I can do to help.

REYNOLDS: You can start with your name.

OWNER: Oh, my name's Parker Spitzer.

REYNOLDS: Okay, Mister-wait, really?

PARKER: Yeah, I know.

REYNOLDS: Okay. Anyway, you can start by telling us if there have been any suspicious plane rentals in the last few hours.

PARKER: Man, I can't believe something like this has happened in this area.

REYNOLDS: I know, but you need to tell us-

PARKER: You hear about this stuff happening in other areas, but never in your own.

REYNOLDS: Yeah, can you just tell us-

PARKER: I mean, it's like, you know somebody your entire life and then-poof. They're just gone forever, like that.

REYNOLDS: Okay, now it seems like you're talking about a family friend that died, this is a potential kidnapping of someone you don't know, just focus.

PARKER: Do you ever think about fate?

REYNOLDS: Mr. Spitzer, FOCUS.

PARKER: Sorry.

REYNOLDS: Have any suspicious plane rentals occurred recently?

PARKER: Uh, yeah, two Arabic dudes with four pieces of really heavy luggage took a plane their friend Kamil had already reserved and paid for, they were supposed to return it an hour ago.

ZIMMERMAN: What? Why didn't you call the police?

PARKER: I was too busy thinking about fate.

ZIMMERMAN: So you were already being introspective before we got here.

PARKER: …Yes.

ZIMMERMAN: Wow, man. Well, where were they supposed to go?

PARKER: They said Iraq, but I thought they were joking, but one of the Arabs hit the other on the shoulder when they were boarding.

ZIMMERMAN: Are you completely oblivious? So many warning signs, and you missed them! Did the pilot even have a pilot's license?

PARKER: They had a driver's license, figured it was the same thing.

REYNOLDS: It's not! It's definitely not! How do you own this place?

PARKER: My dad gave it to me in his will. He handed me a picture of him and I from when we threw the ball around in the front yard back in the 80's. He said, "Son, do me a favor, do a good job with that li'l ol' airport of mine. Do a good job." And then he died.

ZIMMERMAN: You're being introspective again.

REYNOLDS: Well, you're not respecting your father's wishes, not just because of this situation, but there are clearly vagrants on that plane over there!

(Pan to a small plane filled with homeless people, then pan back)

PARKER: What can I say?

ZIMMERMAN: Nothing. You can't say anything. Jesus, I wish I could still smoke.

(He takes out a bag of Skittles™©® and begins snacking on them)

REYNOLDS: Why do you have those, George?

ZIMMERMAN: People keep sending them to me.

PARKER: Why? Oh, George Zimmerman, I see.

ZIMMERMAN: Yeah. Anyway, thanks for the help.

(They walk away, leaving Parker to stare introspectively through the hangar window. Cut to a female police dispatcher manning calls)

DISPATCHER: Sorry, a hand in a pickle jar is not a matter for the Hansbay Police Department, honey. Good luck, though, try to use baby powder, the same when you masturbate. (She hangs up) 911 Emergency?

(Cut to Kimberly on the phone in her kitchen with Ethan in the background drinking coffee, seeming tense.)

KIMBERLY: Hello? Yeah, this is Kimberly Donahue, my son and his friends left a few hours ago and they haven't come back, and they're not answering their cell phones. I'm really worried.

DISPATCHER: Ma'am, usually I'd tell you that your son has to be missing for forty-eight hours for us to give a shit, thus allotting enough time for him to be molested, maimed or murdered, but we have received a special order from the dicks in the missing persons division telling us to transfer any calls about missing persons within the last few hours to their department due to an ongoing investigation.

KIMBERLY: (On the verge of tears) SWEET JESUS PUT ME THROUGH!

ETHAN: Why? What's going on?

DISPATCHER: Putting you through now.

(She gets put on hold while joyful music plays)

KIMBERLY: That music seems inappropriate.

ETHAN: What happened, Kimmy?

KIMBERLY: They say the missing persons division has asked dispatchers to flag any missing persons calls due to an incident under investigation.

ETHAN: Christ.

DETECTIVE REYNOLDS: (On the phone) Hello, I am detective Michael Reynolds.

KIMBERLY: Hello, detective. Do you know where my boy is?

REYNOLDS: No, ma'am, but I could help you find him; you just need to answer some questions.

KIMBERLY: Yes, anything.

REYNOLDS: Okay. When did you last see your son?

KIMBERLY: Um, around 5pm.

REYNOLDS: Okay, did he leave?

KIMBERLY: Yes, him and his friends left.

REYNOLDS: Did he say where he was going?

KIMBERLY: No, I'm afraid not. (She wells up again)

REYNOLDS: Ma'am, does he go to a forest often with his friends?

KIMBERLY: (She breaks down crying) YES!

REYNOLDS: Ma'am, calm down, we need you with me.

(Ethan takes the phone)

ETHAN: Hello, sir. What's going on?

REYNOLDS: I was asking your wife about your son, sir. Now, your wife says your son often goes to the forest with his friends, is this correct?

ETHAN: Yes, he does.

REYNOLDS: Well, there was a kidnapping in the forest a few hours ago.

ETHAN: (Ethan wells up) …J-Jesus. WAS HE KIDNAPPED?

(Kimberly grabs Ethan by the shoulders in silent anticipation)

REYNOLDS: We don't know sir, but if what does your son look like?

ETHAN: He-uh, has long, straight black hair, he's white, brown eyes, average height, dark clothing.

REYNOLDS: Yes, that matches a witness report of people going into the forest at around 5:30.

ETHAN: Oh, no.

REYNOLDS: Sir, we have reason to believe that your son has been kidnapped by terrorists and smuggled via a private plane to Baghdad, Iraq.

ETHAN: WHAT??? (He starts sobbing profusely)

REYNOLDS: Sir, come to the station, we'll explain.

ETHAN: OKAY! (He hangs up and turns towards Kimberly and grabs her by the shoulders) Kimmy…

KIMBERLY: (Crying) What?

ETHAN: They say…they say he was kidnapped by terrorists and taken to Iraq.

KIMBERLY: (She begins to sob profusely and they both hug and sob together. Cut to a briefing room at the Central Intelligence Agency. CIA Director David Petraeus is dressed in a suit and is sitting at the helm of the table, joined by his advisors as well as the Secretary of Homeland Security Janet Napolitano, Secretary of Defense Leon Panetta, Secretary of State Hillary Clinton and the director of the Federal Bureau of Investigation Robert Mueller. They're on a video conference call with the Hansbay Chief of Police and Mayor Brian Sarandon)

DIRECTOR PETRAEUS: Hello, Mayor Sarandon and Chief Warren.

MAYOR SARANDON: Hello, Director Petraeus, Secretary Napolitano, Secretary Panetta and Director Mueller. It's an honor. Also, this video chat thing is really cool.

DIRECTOR PETRAEUS: Great, anyway Mr. Mayor, what exactly happened that my advisors tell me is of such national security interest?

MAYOR SARANDON: Well, four teenagers were kidnapped by terrorist recruiters here in Hansbay.

CHIEF WARREN: They were taken on a private plane to Baghdad, Iraq.

SECRETARY NAPOLITANO: My God. Do we have proof?

MAYOR SARANDON: Yes, plenty, Madame Secretary.

DIRECTOR MUELLER: Sovereign citizens kidnapped by terrorists and taken to Baghdad; how could this happen?

CHIEF WARREN: From what I understand Director Mueller, the proprietor of the small airport was a fucking idiot.

DIRECTOR MUELLER: I see.

MAYOR SARANDON: I wonder what else you can do with this webcam thing. (He changes it to inverted colors) Holy shit, I look evil.

SECRETARY PANETTA: FOCUS!

MAYOR SARANDON: Sorry. (He changes it back) Mister Secretary.

SECRETARY PANETTA: Well, this is a national security emergency. The idea that terrorists can come to the United States of America and kidnap four young citizens and fly to Iraq without being detected is beyond me.

CHIEF WARREN: I second that, Mister Secretary.

SECRETARY CLINTON: Mayor Sarandon, what are the kids' names?

MAYOR SARANDON: Well, according to Detectives Zimmerman and Reynolds, they are Ryan Donahue, age sixteen, Brennan Sanford, age sixteen, Sarah Blumenthal, age sixteen and Michelle Reed, age eighteen. I've met the Ryan kid, he's my employee's son, he's a weird kid, but the point is, we need to find these young men and women before they get killed.

DIRECTOR PETRAEUS: I absolutely concur. I'll handle the secret rescue operation.

SECRETARY PANETTA: I'll direct our troops in Iraq to keep the peace among the citizens.

DIRECTOR MUELLER: There are no more troops in Iraq.

SECRETARY PANETTA: Oh, fuck that's right. Shit, where did I leave those troops?

DIRECTOR MUELLER: Afghanistan, I think.

SECRETARY PANETTA: Yeah, that rings a bell. I lose track sometimes.

MAYOR SARANDON: Are you guys fucking serious? Is this how you joke? Because it doesn't seem like you're joking.

SECRETARY PANETTA: Okay, well, I'll maintain peace in Iraq in other ways.

DIRECTOR MUELLER: I'll keep investigators on the beat for clues as to who these scumbags are.

SECRETARY NAPOLITANO: I'll ensure the nation is protected from retaliation while we carry out this operation.

SECRETARY CLINTON: I will work stuff out with Iraq when they inevitably get butt hurt when we perform an operation on sovereign territory.

SECRETARY PANETTA: Perfect. By the way, we're gonna need to wake the President.

SECRETARY NAPOLITANO: It's ten AM, he's probably awake.

SECRETARY PANETTA: Oh. Damnit, I just, haven't been able to say that since we killed Bin Laden. It was awesome while it lasted though.

(Cut to President Obama in the oval office doodling Supreme Court Chief Justice John Roberts and associate Justices Antonin Scalia, Samuel Alito, Clarence Thomas and Anthony Kennedy)

PRESIDENT BARACK OBAMA: Better not, (Starts ripping up the paper) overturn MY INDIVIDUAL MANDATE! I'LL SHOVE THOSE GODDAMN GAVELS UP YOUR-

(His phone rings, he drops the papers and picks it up)

PRESIDENT OBAMA: Hello?

PERSONAL SECRETARY ANITA DECKER: (On the phone) Mr. President, the Secretaries of Defense, State and Homeland Security are here as well as the Directors of Central Intelligence and the Federal Bureau of Investigation.

PRESIDENT OBAMA: …That's never a good sign.

(Fade to black with "TO BE CONTINUED" displayed)





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