The Donahues Episode 277

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic

Kimberly begins to notice signs of dementia in her father Joseph, who seems to think she’s still married to Ethan, even as she works out a divorce with Luke. An activist tries to find women who are
willing to lambast Robert Altmire in the media for sexual harassment, but has little luck. Ryan becomes frustrated with a record store that refuses to pay him enough money for his vinyl records

Submitted: January 16, 2018

A A A | A A A

Submitted: January 16, 2018









“I thought that I was dreaming when you said you loved me. It started from nothing, I had no chance to prepare, I couldn’t see you coming. It started from nothing, I could hate you now. It’s quite alright to hate me now. But you know that deep down, the feeling still, deep down, is good”

  • Frank Ocean


(Cut to Ryan driving his car, while wearing a massive coat and beanie, as snow rages outside. He is listening to the radio)


NPR: The high today is eighteen degrees, and the low is negative one. There is also a wind-chill advisory in effect for the Northeast New York area. Windchill and these historically low temperatures can cause frostbite within ten minutes of exposure, and hypothermia and death for prolonged exposure, so please try to stay inside if at all possible, and if you must leave, don’t be long. The massive winter cyclone bomb slamming the northeast has claimed six lives, and canceled over 4,000 U.S. flights.


RYAN: Whether it’s Trump bragging about his nuclear button, or this fucking Day After Tomorrow Storm, or climate change, or an alien attack, the apocalypse continues to insist on happening. Goddamn. And worse off, I can’t find goddamn parking.


(Ryan sees a Church parking lot. He pulls in, and parks in one of the spaces. He gets out of his car and pulls his coat tight, as he braves the snow. Cut to Ryan walking into a recording studio, covered in snow. Alec and Tara are sitting there, looking bored)


ALEC: Finally.


RYAN: I’m sorry, it just happens to be Armageddon outside.


(Ryan sits down in one of the studio’s chairs)


TARA: It’s fine. We had to talk something out anyway.


RYAN: What is that? Are you talking about how testicles can recover from frost bite? Because that’s what I’m grappling with right now.


ALEC: We’re moving to California.


(Ryan furrows his brow)


RYAN: …Oh.


TARA: Yeah. Not immediately, but eventually. Once I find a job out there.


RYAN: So, then, what about the band? Whatever we’re called, have we landed on a name yet? Wasn’t it like, “Super Dudes” or something?

TARA: That doesn’t sound right.


ALEC: And yet it’s perfect. Super Dudes!

(Alec extends his fist, and Ryan pounds it)


TARA: Look, you could move to California too, of course. Otherwise we’d have to break up. For the time being.


(Ryan sighs)


RYAN: …And why are you doing this? We just started.


(Alec looks at Tara, and then at Ryan)


ALEC: It’s obviously not personal, you know we’re brothers. You’re like the, abnormal brother my mom gave up for adoption.


TARA: Probably not the best thing to say right now, babe.


ALEC: Fair enough.


(Ryan sighs)


RYAN: Then why are we even wasting our time here? (Ryan leaves. Cut to Ryan returning to the church parking lot to see his car gone. He looks panicked) No fucking way. (Ryan looks at a sign that reads “CHURCH PARKING ONLY- TOWING ENFORCED AT ALL TIMES- CALL INTEGRITY TOWING INC., - 518-563-4571”. Ryan shakes his head) Motherfucker.


(Cut to Alec driving Ryan in his truck, as the snow rages outside his windows. They’re listening to “No Problem” by Chance The Rapper on Alec’s stereo)


ALEC: …Dude, it really isn’t personal.


RYAN: You don’t need to explain. California is beautiful. Everyone there is beautiful. And Michael Shannon throws the best orgies.


ALEC: Is that right?


RYAN: I don’t know, I just like to imagine what Michael Shannon looks like when he’s experiencing pleasure, instead of constant pain.


ALEC: He does always look like he has a clothes pin on his dick.


RYAN: Just have fun out there, don’t worry about me.


ALEC: I may not even be going.


(Ryan looks at Alec)


RYAN: What?


ALEC: I’ve spent every summer for the past three in Los Angeles with Tara, and honestly, I feel useless out there. She’s always getting work, while I have nothing to look forward to but wiping kids’ noses and sometimes, their asses, at a summer camp.


RYAN: Huh. I didn’t know that. Are you going to break up?


ALEC: …No, but we might be long distance for a while until, I don’t know, I figure my shit out.


RYAN: …So, what, are you going to stay in Plattsburgh?


ALEC: Maybe. I could try and focus on having a rap career here. Or I could just move anywhere but LA. Alaska, maybe.


RYAN: …Alaska? To get in on the ground floor of the burgeoning Anchorage rap scene?


ALEC: No, just to do it. To get away.


(Ryan looks forward, in deep thought. Cut to Ryan getting out of Alec’s truck as it pulls up to an impound lot)


RYAN: Thanks. (Ryan heads inside. Cut to Ryan on the phone in his apartment’s living room, as the snowstorm rages outside his window) Listen, mom, my car got towed-


KIMBERLY: (On the phone) WHAT?!?


RYAN: Just, please, listen-


KIMBERLY: Why do you do this to me?!!?


RYAN: I know, I’m terrible, in every respect, I’m the worst son imaginable-


KIMBERLY: How much did you have to pay!?


RYAN: If I had to ball-park it, I’d say…exactly one-hundred and eighty-three dollars.


KIMBERLY: Oh my God, you know what? You need to pay that back! Or  I’m taking your car away!


RYAN: Mom, I live in Plattsburgh, and Agora Coffee doesn’t pay me again until February 1st! And I need that money for, you know-


KIMBERLY: Gifts for your mistress?


RYAN: …I’ll get your fucking money.


(Ryan hangs up, and angrily throws his phone at the wall. Cut to Kimberly putting her phone back in her pocket as Luke and Micah sit at a conference table with her)


LUKE: You’re sure you shouldn’t have taken that call outside?


KIMBERLY: Micah, let’s get this over with.


MICAH: Thank you both for agreeing to meet at my law office.


LUKE: Well, it’s not like we could’ve done it at Kim’s workplace.


MICAH: Well, you picked the right day to come, anyway, it’s Sheryl’s birthday and we’re having fruit punch and cake in the break room a little later on, if you guys want to stick around.


LUKE: …No!

KIMBERLY: Obviously not!

(Micah clears his throat)

MICAH: Very well, then, let’s get down to business. (Micah hands copes of divorce agreements to both Kimberly and Micah) I trust you’ve had time to review the fairly boilerplate divorce agreements I sent you.


KIMBERLY: Yes, it seems fair to me. We don’t have any kids together, so it all seems pretty square.


LUKE: Yeah, I went through it too, and I noticed something. (Luke holds it up) You’re not paying me alimony.


(Kimberly squints)

KIMBERLY: Alimony? You’re not paying ME alimony either!

LUKE: You fired me, Kim. I think I deserve alimony until I can get another job. (Luke puts the agreement down) Oh, and of course, I might need to buy jewels for my new woman. Who knows? She might be French, or whatever nationality is hot these days.


KIMBERLY: Luke, you got severance! For like, six months!

LUKE: I don’t see how that has anything to do with our divorce agreement. I’m not signing this until I get alimony, PERIOD!


(Luke stands up and walks out)



MICAH: Let him go.


KIMBERLY: He’s being ridiculous!

MICAH: He’s spiteful. I’m sure we can work this out.


(Kimberly sighs)


KIMBERLY: I may have to go out-of-pocket to save my business, I don’t know if I can afford to pay alimony right now.


MICAH: Just, take the rest of the day to think it over. Go see loved ones. You look exhausted.


KIMBERLY: I am. (Kimberly rubs her temples) Maybe you’re right. I haven’t seen my father in about six months, I should probably go visit.


MICAH: Good idea. (The camera does a one-shot on Micah) Right after you sign- (Micah reaches down and pulls out a Hallmark card) Sheryl’s birthday card- oh.


(Zoom out to reveal Kimberly is no long present. Cut to Kimberly’s car pulling up to her parents’ house. She gets out, and walks up to the door, and rings the doorbell. After a few moments, her mother Kay answers)


KAY: Oh, my goodness!


(Kimberly hugs Kay)


KAY: Sweetheart! What are you doing- uh, here?


(Kimberly detaches from Kay)


KIMBERLY: I just wanted to surprise you! Where’s dad?


KAY: He’s uh, sleeping, honey.


(Joe walks in)


JOE: Kay, where’s the lockbox with all our money in it?


KAY: It’s at the bank, dear.


(Kimberly comes in and closes the door)


KIMBERLY: Daddy, it’s me!

JOE: Oh my God, Kimberly, come here!

(Kimberly walks over and hugs her father. Kay walks in)


KAY: I’ll make you two coffee.


JOE: Great idea. Sit down, Kim.


(Joe and Kimberly sit down as Kay walks into the kitchen)


KIMBERLY: How’ve you been, dad?


JOE: Oh, you know, just, trying to keep the boss man happy.


KIMBERLY: Boss man?


JOE: How about you, how’re you and your husband?


KIMBERLY: Agh. Actually, dad, we’re getting a divorce.


JOE: You and Ethan, divorcing?


(Kay walks in with two coffees)


KAY: Honey, Kim is married to Luke, remember?


(Kay puts the coffees down)


JOE: Luke?


KIMBERLY: Daddy, I divorced Ethan almost four years ago.


JOE: Well, you shouldn’t have done that, you have a young child together.


(Kimberly furrows her brow, as Kay sits down)


KIMBERLY: Dad, are you-?


KAY: He’s just confused. Kim’s kids are all adults, honey.


JOE: …But I held little Madeline in my arms just a…


(Kimberly looks at Kay. She shrugs)


KIMBERLY: Dad, are you alright?


(Joe nods his head)


JOE: …Yes. (Joe sits back) I’m fine, Chelsea.


(Kimberly looks at Kay with increasing urgency)


KIMBERLY: (Whispering) The fuck is Chelsea?!


KAY: Your Great Uncle’s late wife, shame on you!


KIMBERLY: Can I speak to you a moment?


JOE: I tell you, that Joe Namath is going to shake up football.


KAY: Let’s do that.


(They both get up. Cut to the backyard, where they are talking)


KIMBERLY: What the hell is going on?!


KAY: He’s been like this for a few months.


KIMBERLY: A few months?! Jesus, how did it happen this quickly?!


KAY: It started with small things, forgetting to take his pills, forgetting what year his car was made, forgetting me entirely-




KAY: I mean, he eventually remembered.


KIMBERLY: Jesus, he must have full-blown dementia, have you gotten him treated?!


KAY: I took him to the doctor, but there’s not much we can do, long-term.


KIMBERLY: What do you mean we can’t do much?!


KAY: I mean, hey, some people can live more or less normally with dementia, and do great things, even be President!


KIMBERLY: Yeah, dad seems like a very “stable genius”. Are you the only one who knows about this?


KAY: Yes! It’s just us!


KIMBERLY: Okay. Well-


KAY: If by “just us”, you mean, your sister and brothers have known it for months, I’m sorry!


KIMBERLY: What the hell!? Clay, Kirk and Kaley know about this?! Why didn’t you tell me?


KAY: Because, say it with me-




KAY: You’re so damn career-focused!

KIMBERLY: You expected me to say that with you!?


KAY: Kim, we just didn’t think you’d devote the time to help take care of your father as he drifts into senility. You have your business to attend to.


(Kimberly shakes her head and looks inside at Joe, who is walking towards the door with a packed suitcase. He opens the door)


JOE: Kay, my draft number was just drawn. I’m going to Canada!

(Joe goes back inside. Kay shakes her head)


KIMBERLY: Wasn’t he for the war?


KAY: Yeah, but he’s also a coward.


(Cut to Oprah Winfrey on stage at the Golden Globes)


OPRAH WINFREY: In 1964, I was a little girl sitting on the linoleum floor of my mother's house in Milwaukee watching Anne Bancroft present the Oscar for best actor at the 36th Academy Awards. She opened the envelope and said five words that literally made history: "The winner is Sidney Poitier." Up to the stage came the most elegant man I had ever seen. I remember his tie was white, and of course his skin was black, and I had never seen a black man being celebrated like that. I tried many, many times to explain what a moment like that means to a little girl, a kid watching from the cheap seats as my mom came through the door bone tired from cleaning other people's houses. But all I can do is quote and say that the explanation in Sidney's performance in "Lilies of the Field": "Amen, amen, amen, amen."


(The audience applauds. Cut to Rob, Trey, Colleen and Timothee Chalamet sitting at a table in the back of the room, at the Golden Globes. They are applauding, and they’re all wearing black)


ROB: Damn straight, Oprah!


TREY: I love her.


COLLEEN: Do you ever say that about me?


TREY: All the time. I love you, babe.


COLLEEN: Okay, good. But you better not love me more than you love Oprah.


TREY: Well, obviously.


OPRAH: At this moment, there are some little girls watching as I become the first black woman to be given this same award.




ROB: A really attractive woman for her age, too, my God! (Rob leans over to a table with James & Dave Franco and Tommy Wiseau) Am I right, guys?


JAMES FRANCO: She’s a little old for my tastes.


TOMMY WISEAU: You might want be careful, James.


DAVE FRANCO: For once, I agree with Tommy.


(Cut to Rob, Trey, Colleen and Timothee walking into Rob’s Los Angeles home. All the men have loosened bowties, and Colleen is carrying her shoes)


TREY: How did you even manage to get invited, bro?


ROB: I’m a charmer, you gotta figure that out about me.


(Rob and the rest walk into his living room. Rob crashes on the couch)


TREY: Yeah, you sure charmed my girlfriend.


COLLEEN: Come on, Trey.


ROB: Man, I thought we were past that! Your girlfriend and I work together, we have to let the past be the past.


(Trey sighs. He then looks over at the cereal boxes on top of Rob’s fridge in the adjoining kitchen. It includes Cookie Crisp, Capn’ Crunch, Honey Nut Cheerios, Corn Flakes, All-Berry Cap’n Crunch, and more)


TREY: I’ll forgive you if you let me at that dope-ass cereal collection you got there.


ROB: Feel free!

TREY: Awesome.


(Trey gets in the kitchen and starts pouring Cap’n Crunch in a bowl. Colleen sits down)


COLLEEN: He loves the toys.


TIMOTHEE: I think I’m going to go.


ROB: You guys should. The premiere of our show is tomorrow night. You should get rested up.


TIMOTHEE: Yeah…I’ll let you know if I can make it. Text me.


(Timothee leaves, and Trey comes in holding cereal box toys covered in cereal dust)


TREY: Alright, I’m ready to head out.


(Cut to the following night. Rob, Trey and Colleen are gathered around the TV in Rob’s living room, wearing more casual clothes than before)


ROB: Where the hell is Timothee?


TREY: Maybe he’s buying a less pretentious way to spell his name. Timothy with two Es? Yeah, and I’m Trey with two Ys, and a few silent Xs after the R. Oh shit, that’s actually kinda cool.


COLLEEN: Shh! Babe, it’s starting!


TREY: Okay!


(Cut to the TV, which is showing Beauty And The BEASTliest, the show Colleen & Rob star in. It starts with a shot of Colleen in her room painting her nails)


COLLEEN: Wanna get this JUST right for the toe-nail drying party in fifteen minutes!!!


(Laugh track, as Colleen’s mom, played by Carol Kraft, enters)


MOM: Tricia, I’m sorry, but you graduated over a year ago! It’s time to get a job!

COLLEEN: Is that like, a thing where they give you money?


(Laugh track)


MOM: There’s a bit more to it, but, yes!

(Laugh track, as Tricia stands up)


COLLEEN: Fine, I’ll go to beauty school! Will that get the bug out of your old butt?!


(Colleen leaves, as laugh track ensues)


MOM: Oh, she thinks she’s gonna make it. But she’ll return to the sphere of domesticity with a husband in hand soon enough.


(Laugh track, as mom leaves. Cut to Rob, Trey and Colleen watching this)


ROB: Urgh, when am I gonna be on!?


(Cut back to the show, where we see Tricia entering a beauty school, where people are getting their hair cut. Timothee Chalomet’s character, a flamboyantly dressed gay stereotype, walks over to Tricia)


TIMOTHEE: Girl, you better either be here for a haircut or some schoolin’, because you could use both!


(Laugh track)


COLLEEN: I want to enroll.


TIMOTHEE: Okay, let me get the owner. SEEEETH!


(Rob’s character Seth walks in, presented as a very suave, well-dressed man. His entrance provokes cheers in the crowd)


ROB: You rang? (He smiles and faces the camera. Cut to Rob, Trey and Colleen watching) By God, you’re irresistible.


(Cut back to the show)


COLLEEN: I’d like to join beauty school, sir. I don’t know much, but I’m a quick learner!


ROB: Trust me, beautiful, we don’t need to you “learn”, that’s too much to expect, all we need is for you to absorb! (Laugh track, as Rob strokes Colleen’s chin) Although you seem like you could be smarter than you look.


COLLEEN: Well, I did get an A in Home Ec!


(Cut to a female brunette, wearing thick-brimmed glasses, mid-20s, sitting in her Los Angeles home, watching this scene in her living room, with a laptop on her lap that bears a “Buzzfeed” sticker)


FEMALE: Ugh. This is the most sexist thing I’ve seen on television since every episode of The Big Bang Theory. I need to write an article about this.


(Another woman in her mid-20s walks in, this time, a dirty blonde, wearing transparent eye glasses and a blue flannel)


OTHER WOMAN: Ugh, Whitney, turn this off.


(She sits next to Whitney, and Whitney puts her arm around her)


WHITNEY: I wish I could, Hannah, but I want to write an article about it. Instead of another article about how the Stranger Things kids are drinking age now.


HANNAH: That can’t be true!

WHITNEY: It’s not, but we gotta move units.


HANNAH: Whitney, you see that guy? Rob Altmire?


WHITNEY: The douchey guy?


HANNAH: Yeah. He made a comment to me at a press event once. I asked him what would happen next on his reality show, “Desperate Dudes Of The Valley: Desperate Boobs Edition”, and he said, something like, “same thing that’ll happen between you and I tonight. I’ll take your clothes off with my teeth, and then brush my teeth, and spit the toothpaste into your pussy, and then fuck you while I grind my teeth”.


WHITNEY: Dear Jesus! That’s disgusting! And wow, he has a thing for teeth, doesn’t he?


HANNAH: His own teeth, I guess!


WHITNEY: Babe, would you want to share that with the public?


HANNAH: Are you kidding me? No, it’s embarrassing. (Whitney tears up) I just don’t know what he thought gave him the right to talk to me like that.


(Whitney rubs Hannah’s back)


WHITNEY: …Shhh, it’s alright. If you let me go public with that, we can-


HANNAH: I said no, okay? I’d never be hired again if I came out with that. I’m sorry.


WHITNEY: …It’s alright. There’s gotta be a ton of other women with similar stories. I’ll find them.


(Hannah wipes away her tears)


HANNAH: It makes sense that he’s in this stupid show. Everything about it screams that it was written by men, for men, just pandering to the male gaze, to what men want to see.


WHITNEY: I know, it’s bullshit.


(Whitney and Hannah start making out, as the camera zooms in slowly and sultry music plays. Cut to Ryan walking into a store called “Records & Things”, in Plattsburgh, holding a stack of vinyl records, as it snows outside, although not as hard. Ryan walks in, shakes the snow off him, and walks up to the counter, where an older man stands by a sign reading “Item Sales”)


RYAN: Hi, I’m looking to sell these, if that’s okay.


OLDER MAN: Okay, what’s your first name?


RYAN: Ryan. Though, I’ll answer to Balthazar.


OLDER MAN: Ryan it is. I’ll page you over the intercom when I’m done checking the condition of your LPs.


RYAN: Okay, thanks.


(Ryan walks away, and goes over to the book section. He pulls out a book labeled “101 Ways To Fuck Up Your Life (Irreperably)”)


RYAN: Huh.


(Ryan walks over to a chair, sits down, and starts reading the book)


INTERCOM: Ryan, we’re ready for you at the counter.


RYAN: Damnit, already?


(Ryan puts the book down and walks back up the sales counter)




RYAN: Say no more, just put the two-hundo in my cold, dead hands.


(Ryan extends his hands)


OLDER MAN: I’m sorry, the records aren’t in good enough condition.


RYAN: Excuse me?


(He puts his hands down)


OLDER MAN: Yeah, sorry, there’s some scratches and shelf wear.


RYAN: Ah, I understand.


OLDER MAN: Good. Thanks for thinking of us!

(Ryan takes the records)


RYAN: No, I mean, I understand what’s going on here.


OLDER MAN: …Pardon?


RYAN: Listen, I’m sorry I missed the depression. I’m sorry I dress like that one grandson of yours that scares you. But these records are in PERFECT condition, and if circumstances were different I think you’d agree.


(Ryan bundles up and leaves the store, leaving the older man perplexed. Cut to a few hours later. Ryan comes in again with another record under his arm, and a suitcase in the other hand)


OLDER MAN: Oh. Hi again.


(Ryan slaps the record on the counter, a vinyl copy of the Ghost album “Meliora”)


RYAN: Interested? It’s for sale, fuck-o!


OLDER MAN: …I guess I’ll take a look. (He takes out the record and brushes it off. He then examines it under the light, and puts it back in its sleeve) I’m sorry, it’s too scratched. Probably from a few years of use.


RYAN: Hmm. Interesting, isn’t it?


(The old man furrows his brow)


OLDER MAN: …Not really.


(Ryan takes the record)


RYAN: Well, see you later.


(Ryan walks into the next room. Cut to him over by a reading corner with some arm chairs and a lamp, near some bookshelves. He takes out a suitcase, filled with preppy clothes, such as a polo shirt, khakis and boat shoes, and puts them on the ground. He takes off his t-shirt, shoes and skinny jeans, and drapes them over the nearby lamp, before putting on the polo, khakis and boat shoes. He then puts a comb through his hair, takes the record and leaves the suitcase and clothes behind. The shot lingers on the clothes draped over the lamp for a few seconds, before cutting to Ryan running up the counter and gently putting the record down again)




RYAN: (California accent) Hey, I’m Brett. I was hopin’ to sell my dumb brother’s stupid record, so I can benefit this charity me and my frat brothers are sponsored by. The charity pays for rapists’ legal defense fees, and shit.


OLDER MAN: What the hell are you doing!? I JUST spoke with you!


RYAN: (Normal voice) Admit it, you geezer! If my costume was more convincing, you’d be ALL OVER this record!


RYAN: Oh, really, then tell me, why didn’t you accept it?! Huh?!


OLDER MAN: First off, it was scratched, secondly, YOU CALLED ME A FUCK-O! You know what? SECURITY!!


(Two Security guards come over)


RYAN: You haven’t heard the LAST of me, bigot!!


(The security guards pick Ryan up)



RYAN: WHAT?! But, my clothes!


OLDER MAN: Get the hell out of here!



(Ryan is thrown onto the street)


SECURITY GUARD: I knew one day I’d be useful.


(They both go back inside, as Ryan gets up and wipes the snow off his pants)


RYAN: Great. Now I’m in public like this.


(Ryan starts walking through the freezing cold. He runs into another frat bro)


FRAT BRO: Holy shit, it’s James! How are you, brother?


(The frat dude bro-hugs Ryan, and then they relinquish each other)


RYAN: Simmity-same, dude. What ever happened to you and that Asian chick? (Ryan shakes his head) Whoa, what the hell’s happening to me!?


(Cut to Ryan, now wearing his typical punk/emo clothes again, working at Agora Coffee’s register. There is a middle-aged man ordering in front of him. Charles is cleaning coffee cups behind him)


MIDDLE-AGED MAN: Could I get a Frappuccino, but no coffee and no ice?


RYAN: …So, like, a milkshake?


MIDDLE-AGED MAN: Yeah, could I get a milkshake?


(Ryan turns to Charles)


CHARLES: …Sure, whatever.


(Ryan turns back to the man)


RYAN: That’ll be seven-fifty. What’s your name?


MIDDLE-AGED MAN: John. (The man pulls out his wallet and hands Ryan his card) Did you guys hear about Records & Things?


(Ryan swipes the card)


RYAN: You mean, the story about that brave guy that stood up to them?


CHARLES: No, it burnt down last night.


(Ryan turns to Charles)


RYAN: What?!

JOHN: Yeah, it caught fire overnight. They still don’t know what happened. Luckily, nobody was hurt, but.


RYAN: But did anybody die?


CHARLES: Ryan, he said nobody was hurt, I think you can safely assume no one died.


(Ryan hands John his card back, and flips the screen around to show John the signature line on screen)


RYAN: Sign there. (John signs it) I can’t believe it. I was there just yesterday.


CHARLES: Did you do it?


(John and Charles laugh)


RYAN: No, I didn’t.


(Charles glares at Ryan, confused)

CHARLES: …That’s good to hear.


RYAN: We’ll call your name when it’s ready.


(John nods and walks away. Cut to Ryan watching local news with Alan in their apartment. The local news is playing an interview with the older man, who the lower third lists as “Alexander Caveney; Owner, Records & Things”. The interview is taking place in front of the charred remains of the shop)


ALEXANDER: To be candid with you, local newsperson. I think I know exactly who did this. (He turns to the camera) RYAN DONAHUE.


(The camera zooms in on Ryan’s shocked face)


RYAN: Oh, shit.


ALAN: You fucked uuuup.


(Cut to Ethan sitting in his City Councilman office, watching an ad for “Altmire For Congress” on Facebook. His Chief of Staff sits in the corner. We cut to the ad, which shows a low-angle shot of Rob Altmire, in a suit, with the Hollywood sign in the distance)


ROB: Hey, CA-25! You may not want your Congressman to be from the Hills- (Cut to a disheveled and drunken Rob, with his tie loosened, snorting a white substance off a stripper’s stomach beside his pool as a party rages around him. He looks into the camera) or a Congressman who lives the hard-partying LA lifestyle! Don’t worry, it was just Vicodin. (Cut to Rob standing in the woods, as a KKK rally goes on behind him) But I assume you don’t want a Congressman from here either. (Cut to Rob in a Knight costume in a hallway) Because those of us in Los Angeles county love the Knights of Hollywood film! (Cut to Rob in front of a green screen picture of Republican Congressman Steve Knight) But, Steve Knight is more like a Knight of the Ku Klux Klan, if you know what I mean. When he was in the California legislature, he voted against a measure that would ban the display or sale of Confederate flag images from state museums & gift shops. (Rob turns to another camera, now he has the California flag behind him) Hey, Steve! News flash, the Civil War is over! And the South Lost! And California won! Get over it! (Rob then turns to another camera, and now has a picture of Bryan Caforio behind him) And as for my Democratic opponent, Bryan Caforio, um…what a stupid that name is!

(Cut to the “Altmire For Congress” logo. “Vote in the Jungle Primary, June 5th”)


NARRATOR: Vote Rob Altmire for California’s 25th District, this June 5th. Altmire for Congress, he’ll get down for California!


(The ad ends)


ETHAN: Jesus, I hate that guy.


(Ethan’s Chief of Staff stands up)


CHIEF OF STAFF: I suppose it’s good you didn’t endorse him, now that you’re a Republican again.


ETHAN: Still, Landon, I hope he loses. Even if Steve Knight is awful.


LANDON: He’ll lose, sir.


(Ethan gets a call on his cell phone. He sees it’s Joe Altmire)


ETHAN: What the hell? (Ethan answers) Hello?


JOE: (On the phone) Hi, I’m glad I caught you before dinner.


ETHAN: …Yes, we’re just getting it on the table. (Whispering to Landon) Clink some dishes together!

LANDON: What?! Why?!


ETHAN: (Whispering) Just do it!

(Landon starts clinking coffee mugs together)


JOE: Anyway, I don’t know why you’re divorcing my daughter, but I wanted to discourage you. She’s a lovely young woman who, frankly, needs a man in her life to manage that temper of hers.


ETHAN: …Uhh, Joe, I think you have the wrong number, let me give you Kim’s husband’s number.


JOE: Oh. Okay, I apologize.


ETHAN: No problem, hold on.


(Ethan flips through his rol-o-dex)


LANDON: (Whispering) Why do you still have one of those!?


ETHAN: 802-576-0964.


JOE: Hold on, let me write that down.


ETHAN: 802-576-0964.


JOE: Got it! Thank you.


ETHAN: Take care, Joe. (Ethan hangs up) That was weird.


LANDON: Can I stop clinging now?



(Landon stops. Cut to Luke, drinking chardonnay and reading a book on the couch of his new apartment. There are boxes everywhere. He get a phone call from Joe, and answers it)


LUKE: Hello?


JOE: (On the phone) Listen, I was in Korea, so I’m going to tell it to you straight.


LUKE: Joseph?


JOE: Yeah, it’s me. You’re divorcing my sweet pea, and I don’t like it.


LUKE: Joe, listen, this is a matter between your daughter and I-


JOE: You think that fake British accent is going to impress me? No way!

LUKE: What?


JOE: You’re a bum, no matter how fancy, elegant and sexy you sound right now!


LUKE: Joe, Kim and I have irreconcilable differences, okay?


JOE: If you go through with this divorce, and hurt her like this, you’ll have to answer to me.


(Joe hangs up. Luke’s face contorts in anger and he throws his phone violently against the wall. Cut to Whitney interviewing a spray-tanned blonde actress at the outdoor portion of a coffee shop on Sepulveda boulevard. She is recording the conversation and is holding a notebook)


WHITNEY: Okay, this is tape one of my interview with, state your name, please.


WOMAN: Summer Summers.


WHITNEY: …That’s your real name?


SUMMER: Yah. Why?


WHITNEY: Nothing, just. Anyway, I’m Whitney Stone, thanks for sitting down with me.


SUMMER: No problem.


WHITNEY: So you played one of Rob’s exes on his hit reality show “My Four Exes Fight Over My Stuff”, correct?




WHITNEY: So, are you actually one of his exes?




WHITNEY: I don’t know why I’m surprised. Did he ever make you feel, uncomfortable, at all, during shoots?


SUMMER: No, not really.


WHITNEY: What do you mean “not really”?


SUMMER: I mean, in between takes, sometimes he would gesture at his dick, like, “give me head, bitch”. But I think he was just being funny.


WHITNEY: Right. That’s, hilarious.


(Cut to Whitney at the same table interviewing another woman)


ANOTHER WOMAN: Sometimes, backstage, he would be like, “Bridget, come here”. I would come over there and he’d be all like, “do you take after your mom, or your dad? Because you’re so hot, I would fuck them both”. (She laughs) He was just such a charmer.


WHITNEY: Dear Jesus.


(Cut to Whitney interviewing a third woman)


THIRD WOMAN: So, I met Rob and Aziz Ansari at a club in Monterey Park. They were discussing the feminist film theories of Molly Haskell, and then they both told me I’d look good on the other side of a dick. Needless to say, I was impressed.


WHITNEY: Needless to say?


(Cut to Whitney interviewing a fourth woman, this time, an Asian actress)


FOURTH WOMAN: He said my pussy was “so good, but all it needed was sweet & sour sauce”.


WHITNEY: Wow, that’s sexist AND racist.


FOURTH WOMAN: He told me was just quoting Kanye, though, so I let it go. He’s a good guy.


(Whitney sighs)


WHITNEY: So…can this be on the record?


FOURTH WOMAN: No, I’d rather it not be.


(Cut to Summer)


SUMMER: No, I love him! I mean, not like that, but as like a casual work buddy, and hopefully someday a casual sex partner, I was talking to my-


(Cut to Bridget, the second woman)


BRIDGET: No, he really does mean well. Don’t embarrass him like that.


(Cut to the third woman)


THIRD WOMAN: No, they’re feminists, remember? I think I mentioned that. That makes up for it.


(Whitney sighs. Cut to her falling into her bed, exhausted, at her house. Hannah walks in and leans against the door frame)


HANNAH: Tough interviews?


(Whitney groans)


WHITNEY: These women are brainwashed.


HANNAH: What do you mean?


WHITNEY: They refused to go on the record. (Whitney sits up in bed) They think he’s charming. You should’ve heard the stories they told me.


HANNAH: Why don’t you publish them anyway?


(Whitney sighs)


WHITNEY: Because, it’s unethical. It would damage my credibility. (Pause) Maybe it’s good that I’m saving millions of Americans their bile.


(Hannah gets on the bed and cuddles with Whitney)


HANNAH: …There’s no other women you can talk to?


WHITNEY: …I mean, there’s Colleen Diamond, but she’s Moby Dick.




(Whitney looks at Hannah)


WHITNEY: What do you mean?


HANNAH: Literally no one heard of her before last year, I mean, she’s not J.D. Salinger, just track her down.


(Whitney shrugs)


WHITNEY: Okay, I’ll try. But don’t tease me about J.D. Salinger, I’ve been looking for that son of a bitch for eight years.


HANNAH: Oh. Whitney, I have something to tell you.


(Cut to Colleen in her apartment, holding pieces of blue and red construction paper, pressing each of them to the wall, and comparing. She eventually chooses the blue construction paper and begins hammering the construction paper into the wall. Then she hears a knock at the door. She walks away, and the construction paper falls to the floor. She opens up to see Whitney)


COLLEEN: Can I help you?


WHITNEY: I’m from BuzzFeed, I wanted to schedule an interview.


COLLEEN: Ooh, a BuzzFeed interview! Cool! How’d you find me?


WHITNEY: Your Instagram story documenting every other moment of your day made it pretty easy.


COLLEEN: Yeah, well, people want to know. Come in! (Whitney walks in, and Colleen shuts the door) Hope you don’t mind the smell of paint.


WHITNEY: I don’t, smell anything.


COLLEEN: Have a seat.


(Whitney sits on Colleen’s couch, as does Colleen. They face each other. Colleen puts the tape recorder on the table)


WHITNEY: Do you mind?


COLLEEN: Not a problem, homegirl


(Whitney presses play)


WHITNEY: So, I’m gonna get straight to the point. Has Rob Altmire ever made you feel uncomfortable?




WHITNEY: Have the two of you ever had relations?


COLLEEN: Yeah, we have, but why are you asking?


WHITNEY: You have?




WHITNEY: What was the context?


COLLEEN: It was like, maybe two months ago, we were in his trailer, and he said, something like, I don’t know, “let’s have sex to really get into our characters”. He said he was a method actor.


WHITNEY: …Really?


COLLEEN: Yeah. He said he was like “Daniel Day Lewis but talented”, and I asked who Daniel Day-Lewis was, but it was too late, we were having sex. Although he may have actually told me that later.


WHITNEY: So, he used his power as the leading man in this show to coerce you into having sex?


COLLEEN: Yeah, and I did it, because, hey, I wanted to be liked by the people I work with, I wanted the show to be a success, and honestly, I was curious to see if the Yelp reviews were right about his penis.


WHITNEY: …Is this on the record?


COLLEEN: I don’t see why not. Rob and I are friends, we share everything!


(Whitney nods, and grabs her recorder)


WHITNEY: Thanks.


(Whitney leaves, and Colleen looks confused)


COLLEEN: …Is that it?!


(Cut to Ryan walking down the street, near the university, towards Agora Coffee, hanging his head low. Two teenagers who are walking the opposite direction look at him)


TEENAGER: Aren’t you the dude who burnt down Records & Things?


RYAN: NO! JESUS! Stop- (Ryan breathes in and out) …no, the authorities think it was probably an electrical fire.


TEENAGER 2: So, it was just a coincidence that you threw a fit there the same day?


RYAN: Coincidences happen. Kinda like how it’ll be a coincidence when you find YOUR house burned down later tonight. (They look at each other) That, isn’t smart to say. Just leave me alone.


(Ryan walks away, into the coffee shop. He goes behind the counter, and clocks in. Charles walks over)


CHARLES: Hey, man. Are you sure you want to be here today?


RYAN: Charles, I’m innocent. The Fire Chief said it was an electrical fire. I’m kind of sick of explaining this.


CHARLES: I believe you. But do my Adderall-attled, caffeinated college student customers believe you?


(A college student in a hoodie, with wide, bloodshot eyes, comes over with an empty coffee cup, shaking)



(Ryan looks at the kid)


RYAN: Sure, that’ll be four bucks.


COLLEGE STUDENT: HOLY SHIT! You’re the guy who burned down the Records & Things, right?!?!


RYAN: No, I-




(The student strips off his jacket and shirt and runs out of the coffee shop into the freezing cold. Ryan turns to Charles)


CHARLES: …Take the week off. It’ll blow over. Or, your life is ruined forever. In which case, hey, it probably wasn’t going to be that great anyway.


(Ryan shakes his head and leaves. Cut to Ryan approaching his apartment’s front door. He sees a pile of letters in front of it, and a message, in red ink, on the door reading “FIRE & FURY”. Ryan precariously picks up all the letters and brings them inside. Alan is sitting on the couch on his laptop while Ryan closes the door)


ALAN: Need help with those?


RYAN: Don’t bother.


(Ryan sets the letters on the coffee table)


ALAN: Why don’t you throw them out?


RYAN: Because I DESERVE their HATE.


ALAN: But you didn’t do it!

RYAN: That doesn’t mean I don’t deserve hate.


ALAN: Stop feeling sorry for yourself.


(Ryan sits down)


RYAN: Did you see what they put on my door?


ALAN: Fire and Fury, yeah. I tried to get a copy, but somebody tried to stab me for it.


RYAN: It’s in very high demand.


ALAN: All that Michael Wolff guy had to do was write a piece that sucked Trump’s dick to get unlimited access to the White House. They probably let him play with the nuclear football.


RYAN: And now it’s blown up in his face. The idiot tried to issue a cease-and-desist, and they just released it faster.


(Alan laughs)


ALAN: What a dumbass! That just goes to show how much of a wannabe dictator he is, real talk.


RYAN: He’s feebly trying to play dictator, but nobody is listening to him. It’s sad, really.


ALAN: Even Steve Bannon is letting him loose. It’s like Steve Bannon is Snoke, and Trump is Kylo Ren, and now Steve Bannon has been be-torsoed.


RYAN: Not everything has to be a Star Wars analogy.


ALAN: Sorry.


RYAN: I’m just amazed that the President’s staff treats him like a child. How did we get to this place as a people?


ALAN: James Comey?


RYAN: Oh, yeah. (Ryan knocks on the door) Oh, God, probably some hick with a pitchfork. (Ryan looks through the peephole. He sees Sarah) Never mind, then. (Ryan lets Sarah in, and closes the door. Sarah hugs him) Good to see you, ma’am.


SARAH: Alan, could you excuse us?


ALAN: Yeah, I’ll just leave my apartment.


SARAH: Good to hear.


(Alan rolls his eyes, takes his laptop, and heads into his room)


RYAN: Follow me.


(Sarah follows Ryan into his bedroom. Ryan closes the door and hugs Sarah)


SARAH: I’m so sorry, Ryan.


RYAN: I should sue that fucker for libel.


SARAH: Wait until he releases his tell-all book, huh?


(Ryan looks in Sarah’s eyes)


RYAN: I’m serious, Sarah, what am I gonna do?


SARAH: …I know it’s hard when people hate you. It’s hard for me, too. I’ve spent years of my life defending you.


RYAN: …And you still love me, right?


(Sarah nods. Ryan starts making out with her. They get on the bed, and Ryan begins unbuttoning her shirt. He removes her bra, slides down and starts kissing her chest. Ryan also begins unbuttoning his pants. Cut to Micah, Kimberly and Luke walking into the boardroom for divorce mediation. Micah sits between the two of them, as they sit down)


MICAH: I hope everyone had a restful Thursday. Welcome to Friday. Let’s go on this journey together.


LUKE: Micah, let me make it very clear, there’s no place I want to be less than this shithole office.


MICAH: I’m gonna pretend you didn’t say that.


KIMBERLY: Oh, then you have a lot in common with a few Republican Senators.


LUKE: Before we move on to biting political commentary and droll divorce talk, can I tell you something, Kim? What you did was BEYOND shitty.


KIMBERLY: …What are you talking about?

MICAH: Hey, guys, let’s make “I feel” statements, not accusatory statements-


LUKE: Micah, shut the hell up, you’re a divorce lawyer, not a marriage counselor.


MICAH: I’m sorry-


LUKE: Leave us for a second.


(Micah nods, stands up, and leaves)


KIMBERLY: What are you on about?


LUKE: Don’t get British with me, you had your father call me to shame me into going easy on you, well, forget it, I don’t play those games.


KIMBERLY: What?! My dad called you?


LUKE: Don’t pretend like you didn’t tell him to do that, how would he even know about this otherwise?!


KIMBERLY: Luke, let me ask you something. Did he refer to you as, oh, I don’t know, Mi Jin, or something that sounds like a Korean prostitute’s name?


LUKE: No? Why? What?!


KIMBERLY: Luke, he has dementia. When I visited him yesterday, he thought I was still married to Ethan. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, and he doesn’t know how to follow orders.


LUKE: …Oh.




LUKE: I did not know that.


KIMBERLY: Well, basically, just don’t answer if he calls. And if you do, tell him you’re Mi Jin.


LUKE: Do you…do you, need help taking care of him? I’d be willing to delay this for a bit until we figured that out.


KIMBERLY: …No, that won’t be necessary. I don’t your help. I don’t, want your help.


LUKE: …Okay…


KIMBERLY: However. You would be helping, if you backed off this ridiculous alimony demand. My brothers, sister and I all have to pitch in for hospice.


LUKE: ...I can do that, Kim.


KIMBERLY: Great. (Kimberly stands up) I’ll tell Micah on my way out. I’m gonna go and have very lonely, and yet delicious, meal at Panera.


(Kimberly smiles and walks out of the room. Cut to Rob’s publicist, a woman in a pant suit with brunette hair, frantically refreshing her iPad as she reads a headline from Buzzfeed that says “Colleen Diamond Makes Explosive Allegations Against Co-Star Rob Altmire (Sex Involved)”. Rob is standing between two sliding glass doors to his balcony, smoking a cigarette and wearing a white rob)


ROB: How could this HAPPEN!?!


PUBLICIST: I don’t know, sir-


ROB: Do you have ANY IDEA how this could affect my career in show business, not to mention the political career I keep forgetting I have?!


PUBLICIST: I’m trying to see what the comments are like-


ROB: Screenshot the best ones and frame them, but then, CALL COLLEEN! No! Call TBS, we’ll smooth it over!

(Rob gets a call)


PUBLICIST: Looks like they’re calling you, sir.


(Rob hesistantly picks up his phone)


ROB: Hello, TBS President Kevin Reilly. (Rob makes wide eyes at his publicist) Uh-huh. What’s that? I’m PROMOTED?! Oh? What’s that? You said I’m fired, and I’m just hearing what I want to hear? Oh. Great. Thank you.


(Rob throws his phone against the wall, and puts his cigarette out with his foot. Cut to Hannah and Whitney watching television coverage of the Rob Altmire story, which you can hear in the background)


REPORTER ON TV: Rob was wearing a “Time’s Up” button at the Golden Globes, but apparently, he’s the one whose Golden Globes have been getting into everyone’s business-


OTHER REPORTER: You should’ve said “his time is up”.


REPORTER: Don’t tell me how to do my job!

HANNAH: You did it, my queen.


WHITNEY: We did it. We made Hollywood a tad less patriarchal. Now, let’s get dressed in our bikinis, we have that charity car wash in twenty minutes.


HANNAH: Sounds good.


(Hannah and Whitney kiss and then part ways. Cut to Ethan and Jennifer in Ethan’s living room, watching Rob Altmire speak on television news. The lower third reads “TBS STAR DROPS OUT OF CA-25 RACE DUE TO SEX IMPROPRIETY”)


ROB: And that is why, with great regret, and great, unbridled, hormonal, biblical rage and reluctance, I am suspending my campaign for the Democratic nomination for California’s 25th district.


ETHAN: This is so perfect in every way. Thank GOD I never endorsed him!

JENNIFER: Ethan, let me tell you, this is the kind of schadenfreude that is demands a celebration.


(Ethan holds up a cup of whiskey)


ETHAN: I’m already there.


JENNIFER: No, I mean, like, a vacation. (Jennifer strokes Ethan’s chin) We deserve one.


ETHAN: Alright, I’m convinced, where to?


JENNIFER: Hawaii. I bought the tickets before we had this conversation so I’m glad you’re fine with it. Not that I would’ve taken “no” for an answer.


(Ethan smiles)


ETHAN: I love Hawaii.


(Ethan kisses Jennifer. Cut to Collen in the director’s office, pointing him as he sits behind his desk)




DIRECTOR: It was your article!

COLLEEN: It wasn’t worth THIS! I LIKE ROB! Some people just can’t handle ALPHAS! Now, make it right!

DIRECTOR: Colleen, TBS will never approve of me hiring this guy back, they just won’t. And without Rob, there is no show. Who else has the raw, douchey magnetism that he does?


(Trey pokes his head in)


TREY: Hey, babe, sorry to interrupt, but I spilled cologne all over my basketball shorts, and now I want to go sweat that shit out at the gym. But, we have a thing so I want your permission just in case chicks want to get up on my dick.


(Colleen and the Director look at each other knowingly. Cut to Ryan walking out of his room, wearing only underwear, holding a used condom. He throws it in the trash. Sarah walks out and fills a solo cup with water)


RYAN: You alright?


SARAH: Yeah, I just wanna take a nap.


RYAN: Hmm. I do wear people out, huh?


SARAH: You wear people down. I’ll see you in a bit.


(Sarah walks into Ryan’s room. Ryan turns on the TV, to see another local news report about the “Records & Things” fire. They’re interviewing Alex Caveney again)


ALEXANDER: The person who did this had INTENT! This wasn’t a petty crime, like picking a pocket, or stealing a petticoat. Or killing Tom Petty. This was ARSON! And the person who did it was RYAN DONAHUE!!


RYAN: Jesus, more of this?


(Cut to an interview with an expert)


VOICE OVER: But, would there have been other possible reasons for the fire, including, electrical causes.


(Ryan nods in agreement)


EXPERT: Faulty wiring, frayed cords, cords running under rugs, even draping clothes over a lamp can cause a fire like this.


(The camera quickly zooms in on Ryan’s face. His eyes widen. We cut back to a shot of Ryan putting his clothes on the lamp in the library. Cut back to Ryan’s face. He looks shocked, and then looks down in utter guilt. We zoom out slowly. Cut to black) 

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