Brian, Contra Episode 11

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

Brian and Nina are alarmed when Brent goes missing in Hansbay. Lindsay and Savannah are alarmed when FBI counterintelligence officers come by asking questions. Brent finds himself in the clutches of the Cardova Family.

BRIAN, CONTRA

 

“EMPTY CHAMBER”

 

TV-MA DLV

 

“Spinning dreams with angel wings. Torn blue jeans, a foolish grin. Burning down in the night. So cool, so right”

  • Thurston Moore

 

(We open on Richie Sarandon pouring himself a glass of whiskey in the kitchen of his apartment while a raucous party is underway. College dudes and college girls alike are cutting a rug in the living room, while a stereo blares “Love is The Drug” by Roxy Music. Richie takes the drink and dances sultrily over to a college girl with bangs, glasses and a Devo t-shirt. Richie hands her the drink, she takes it, and then starts making out with Richie. She drops the drink on the coffee table, and it lands with a thud, and a tidal wave of whiskey splashing onto the wood. They collapse onto the couch and the Devo girl takes off her glasses and makes out with substantial tongue. We pan over to a white girl drinking from a red solo cup on an armchair, wearing a sweater with the collar sticking out, translucent glasses and frizzy hair. She plays nervously with her hair and scans the room. She suddenly grows concerned and stands up)

 

MALLORY: Where’s Natalie? (Everyone looks in her direction, except Richie and Violet, who are still making out) …And where’s that old guy?!

 

(Richie and Violet break their make-out and give Mallory a panicked look. Cut to Richie’s room, which is plastered with Bob Marley, Phish and Grateful Dead posters. Brent is sitting on the bed, taking a toke of a joint, as Mallory, a 17-year-old girl with a bob and a tank top, is doing the splits on the ground. She smiles at Brent. Brent gives a golf clap)

 

MALLORY: Five years of gymnastics.

 

BRENT: Think of me as a balance beam, then.

 

(Mallory chuckles and comes to her feet. Mallory walks over to Brent, sits in his lap, wraps her legs around him like a python and starts making out with him. Richie, Violet and Mallory bust in, with the rest of the partygoers gathered behind them)

 

RICHIE: YO! WHAT THE FUCK?!

 

(Brent and Mallory break off and stare at them)

 

MALLORY: What?!
 

VIOLET: You fucking creep- she’s 17 years old!
 

BRENT: What?! She said she was eighteen!

 

RICHIE: Not that much better, bro! Get the fuck outta here!

 

VIOLET: Mallory, get off him!
 

MALLORY: Why am I being judged right now?!

 

VIOLET: We’re not judging you-

 

MALE PARTYGOER: WHORE!

 

VIOLET: JUST GET OFF OF HIM!

 

(Brent gets up and sends Mallory to the floor- causing an audible gasp)

 

RICHIE: DUDE!
 

(Brent puts up his hands as Violet and Natalie rush to help Mallory up)

 

BRENT: My bad!

 

VIOLET: What the fuck, dude?! (To Mallory) You alright, honey?

 

(They help her to her feet)

 

BRENT: She said she was a gymnast, I thought she’d land on her feet!

 

RICHIE: GET YOUR SHIT! YOU’RE MOVING OUT!

 

BRENT: You can’t be serious!

 

RICHIE: I’m serious, bro, get the fuck out of here! I’ve had ENOUGH!

 

(Brent huffs and squeezes past the crowd of people and out of Richie’s room. Violet and Natalie sit Mallory down on the bed and console her)

 

VIOLET: You alright?

 

MALLORY: I’m good, guys, thanks.

 

(A skinny dude in the back pipes up)

 

MATT: Why does he live with you, dude?

 

RICHIE: It’s a long story.

 

(A 23-year-old Evan Alexander, who is sporting a perm and a D.A.R.E shirt, walks over holding a beer)

 

EVAN: Why’d you send him away, I like that guy!

 

RICHIE: Shut up, Evan, you’re not even in college anymore!
 

EVAN: I’m trying to make friends, I’m new to this city, BRO!

 

(Cut to a headstone reading “James ‘Jim’ Speranza, July 30, 1934-September 13, 1975”. We reverse shot to Nina, with Jason and Jillian by her side. They look somber. Nina sniffs and produces a flower from her pocket)

 

NINA: …Logan, I hope you can hear this. They never found your body, so I hope your dad’s grave is close enough that you can hear me right now. (Nina takes a gulp) At the very least, Mr. Speranza, you can pass my message on to Logan-

 

JASON: Mom, just get to the point.

 

NINA: Okay, yes, of course. Logan- I love you so much. I miss you every day, more and more. (She closes her eyes and takes a second) …If I go more than a few hours without thinking about you, I feel so guilty. I hope you can forgive me.

 

JILLIAN: It’s okay, mommy.

 

(Jillian hugs Nina’s leg. Nina breaks down crying, gets on her knees and hugs her children. She throws the rose onto James Speranza’s grave. Cut to Savannah and Bertha sitting at the bar at Annex. Jack is stacking shot glasses in a tower over seven high at this point. Savannah and Bertha are watching intently. Jack adds an eighth shot glass. The tower starts to lean a bit. Jack tries to balance it with his hand, but Bertha points at him)

 

BERTHA: No cheating! (Jack backs off, and the tower still stands) Damnit. (Bertha hands Savannah twenty bucks) Double or nothing on nine shot glasses?

 

SAVANNAH: You’re on. (Jack adds a ninth shot glass and the tower collapses, causing several shot glasses to shatter on the floor. Savannah slams her fist against the bar) Goddamnit.

 

BERTHA: Give it here.

 

(Savannah gives Bertha the twenty back and she stuffs it in her bra)

 

JACK: I think a shard of glass got lodged in my leg.

 

BERTHA: You wanna bet I can pull it out with minimal screaming?

 

(Brian walks in, with faint bruising on his lips and forehead)

 

JACK: Whoa, Brian, where have you been the last couple days?

 

SAVANNAH: We haven’t heard from you!

 

(Brian sits at the bar)

 

BRIAN: Relaxing, mostly.

 

BERTHA: What the hell happened to your face, did you get in a fight?

 

BRIAN: I was, uh, doing a lot of pull-ups- with the, uh. (Brian mimics using a pull-up bar) What’s this called?

 

SAVANNAH: A pull-up bar-

 

BRIAN: A pull-up bar, exactly. I guess I did it too hard because I would hit myself on the bar every time, thus, the bruising.

 

(Lindsay walks out of his office and sits down at the bar)

 

LINDSAY: I doubt that.

 

BERTHA: Especially since you didn’t even know what a pull-up bar was called.

 

LINDSAY: Brian, why don’t we talk?

 

(Lindsay beckons him to his office. Brian gets up reluctantly and trudges over there. Cut to Lindsay’s office. Lindsay is sitting at his desk and Brian is sitting on the couch, rubbing his temples)

 

BRIAN: I got into a fight with my dad.

 

LINDSAY: Damn, it came to blows?

 

BRIAN: Yep. I got the best of him, but I sustained a few shiners.

 

LINDSAY: What prompted it?

 

BRIAN: I told her to back off Annex!

 

LINDSAY: And your girlfriend?

 

BRIAN: Well- I don’t know if they were having sex or not. But he did say that he could if he wanted to. Piece of shit.

 

LINDSAY: Did he cry like a little baby?

 

BRIAN: Well. No. But, that would’ve been awesome.

 

LINDSAY: Did he piss himself?

 

(Brian frowns)

 

BRIAN: No. Stop it, you’re making this seem less badass than it was!

 

LINDSAY: …Did he bleed like a little bitch?

 

(Brian laughs)

 

BRIAN: Yeah, he did.

 

(Brian and Lindsay high-five)

 

LINDSAY: All that aside, this may just make things worse.

 

BRIAN: Yeah, I know. Nina knows about the mob tithes, by the way.

 

LINDSAY: Shit, really?

 

BRIAN: Yeah, and she’s not happy about it. She used that to distract from what she was doing at my dad’s building. (Lindsay shakes his head and pops a cigarette in his mouth) I swear, if she fucked my dad-

 

LINDSAY: Maybe she wasn’t fucking him. (Lindsay lights his cig, takes a puff and emits a plume of smoke) Maybe they were doing something worse. (Brian gives Lindsay an aggravated look) I guess we’ll keep digging. Speaking of which!

 

(Lindsay pats Brian on the back and leaves the room. Cut to Lindsay emerging from his office. He points at Jack)

 

LINDSAY: Has Nina clocked in yet?

 

JACK: No, sir. She’s forty-five minutes late.

 

(Brian walks out of the office)

 

BRIAN: She’s never late.

 

LINDSAY: Brian, she’s always late.

 

BRIAN: But never more than ten minutes.

 

JACK: No, it’s usually far more than ten minutes.

 

BRIAN: I’ve got to check on her- (Brian walks quickly toward the front door) if she’s not here in twenty minutes, call the police- unless you hear from me first.

 

(Brian pushes the front doors open and departs. Lindsay sighs and takes a puff of his cigarette)

 

LINDSAY: Vodka on the rocks, Jack.

 

(Lindsay sits at the bar, and Jack gets to work on the drink. Cut to Brian at Nina’s apartment door. Brian knocks upon it. We cut to the other side. Nina is sitting on her couch, with her legs crossed. She glances at the door)

 

NINA: Who is it?

 

BRIAN: (OS) Nina, it’s me.

 

(Nina sighs deeply)

 

NINA: Not now!
 

BRIAN: (OS) Please, let’s just talk.

 

NINA: Fuck off.

 

(Cut to the hallway, where Brian is stationed at the door)

 

BRIAN: Please!
 

NINA: (OS) NO!

 

(Brian sighs and leans his head against the door)

 

BRIAN: …I beat the shit out of my dad.

 

(Cut to inside. Nina perks up. She stands up and cautiously approaches the door. She unlocks it and opens it)

 

NINA: Really? (Brian points at the bruises on his face) …So he didn’t beat the shit out of you?

 

BRIAN: Nope. I guess I’m a man now, I can beat up my dad.

 

NINA: Did he beat up his dad before him at one point?

 

BRIAN: No, but that’s because he’s not a man.

 

(Nina can’t help but let out a chuckle. Brian walks in and grabs a glass, starts filling it up with tap water. Nina sighs and closes the door)

 

NINA: Did he cry like a little baby?

 

(Brian nods)

 

BRIAN: Uh-huh.

 

(Brian takes a sip of the water and leans against the kitchen counter)

 

NINA: You’re lying.

 

BRIAN: Where are Jason and Jillian?

 

NINA: They’re at Riley’s playing his NES. They’re probably gonna try to steal it, too.

 

(Brian shrugs and takes another sip. He then takes a deep breath)

 

BRIAN: I’m not gonna get mad, I just want to know why you were at my dad’s apartment.

 

NINA: I feel like there’s a scenario where you would get mad.

 

BRIAN: Well, YEAH!

 

(Nina sighs)

 

NINA: …He blackmailed me a few months ago. (Brian squints) Said that if I didn’t act as his “spy” or whatever, that he’d tell the police that I was involved in the cover-up of Logan’s murder.

 

BRIAN: Wait- so you-?

 

NINA: No! I fed him bullshit. In fact- I was spying on him!

 

BRIAN: Really?

 

NINA: Yeah!

 

BRIAN: Why didn’t you tell me about this, then?

 

(Nina scoffs and opens the fridge and starts ruffling through it)

 

NINA: I don’t know, I was afraid Spencer might find out somehow-

 

BRIAN: How the hell would he find out, how many spies did he have?!

 

(Nina grabs a beer and closes the fridge)

 

NINA: I don’t know, I wasn’t thinking clearly, okay?!
 

BRIAN: Do you understand why I’m having a hard time believing you?!

 

NINA: NO!

 

(Nina picks up a church key and pops open the bottle)

 

BRIAN: Fine, what information did you gather?

 

(Nina takes a long sip of the beer and nervously looks down)

 

NINA: I was, uh…I found out Spencer’s trying to buy Annex from O’Halleran.

 

(Brian throws up his hands and scoffs)

 

BRIAN: Thanks for breaking that news, Cronkite. What else you got?

 

NINA: Okay, I’m sorry I’m not James Bond- this shit you’ve gotten me into is FUCKING insane. Nine months ago, I was just some slut shaking her ass at a seedy strip club, what do you want from me? I could’ve told Spencer where Brent was located, but I DIDN’T!

 

(Brian grinds his teeth, in deep thought)

 

BRIAN: …That’s true.

 

(Nina nods)

 

NINA: Speaking of Brent, uh. (Nina takes a swig of the beer) We should move him.

 

BRIAN: Why? Richie hasn’t complained. I mean, I haven’t returned any of his calls, but I assume things are going well.

 

NINA: No, Spencer told me that the mob knows Brent is somewhere in Vermont, so it’s only a matter of time.

 

BRIAN: What?! How could they know?

 

NINA: I guess that’s the intel I should’ve led with.

 

BRIAN: YEAH! Again, how could they know that?!

 

NINA: Brian, Brent isn’t known for being discreet.

 

(Brian scoffs and covers his face with his palm)

 

BRIAN: Goddamnit. (Brian lets his palm slip off his face) Guess I better call my brother.

 

NINA: Make it quick, Jason and Jillian are expecting me to be a getaway car for them, so I’m expecting a call.

 

(Brian nods and picks up the touch-tone telephone and starts dialing. Cut to Lindsay sitting across from Winslow in his office. Lindsay is straightening a stack of papers and he hands them to Winslow)

 

LINDSAY: Here, I think you’ll see that everything is in order.

 

(Winslow squints at the papers)

 

WINSLOW: What order?

 

LINDSAY: Order of awfulness.

 

WINSLOW: So, I can’t play these songs anymore?!

 

LINDSAY: That’s correct.

 

WINSLOW: “Heart of Glass” by Blondie- what do you have against that?!

 

LINDSAY: Nothing, but you play it a lot, so I hate it now.

 

WINSLOW: The Modern Lovers?! They’re like my favorite band!

 

LINDSAY: Yeah, exactly, you’re way too enthusiastic for them, it’s off-putting.

 

WINSLOW: I feel like you’re just trying to goad me- Michael Jackson?!

 

LINDSAY: He’s tacky.

 

WINSLOW: What are you-?!

 

LINDSAY: He’s just tacky. (Knock at the door) Come in!

 

(Jack opens the door, with two FBI agents- Forsythe and Barwell from BCEP8, behind him. Forsythe is an older brunette woman and Barwell is a hotshot young agent with a full head of black hair)

 

JACK: These two FBI agents want to talk to you, Lindsay.

 

(Lindsay clams up)

 

LINDSAY: Oh. Of course. Winslow, you can go.

 

WINSLOW: I can’t believe you put Madonna on here.

 

(Winslow gets up)

 

LINDSAY: She’s getting old.

 

WINSLOW: She’s 27!

 

(Winslow shuffles out of the room. Barwell and Forsythe walk in. Jack shuts the door behind him. Lindsay extends his hand, and both agents shake it)

 

AGENT BARWELL: Pleasure.

 

AGENT FORSYTHE: How are you?

 

LINDSAY: Fine. Have a seat. (Forsythe and Barwell sit down) What is this regarding? You guys run out of black leftists to throw in jail?

 

AGENT FORSYTHE: No, there’s still plenty more to go through.

 

AGENT BARWELL: We’re here because of this.

 

(Barwell produces the bug that Savannah and Nina planted in Loveman’s office. Lindsay tries to keep it together)

 

LINDSAY: W-what’s that?

 

AGENT BARWELL: It’s a microphone we found in a certain important person’s office.

 

LINDSAY: How important? (Faux intrigue) THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES?!

 

AGENT FORSYTHE: No.

 

AGENT BARWELL: It doesn’t matter who, we’re trying to figure out where it from.

 

(Barwell puts it away)

 

AGENT FORSYTHE: Have you noticed any members of Russian organized crime frequenting your club?

 

LINDSAY: The only members of organized crime I’ve ever seen in here are the FBI.

 

(Lindsay can barely contain a smirk. Forsythe and Barwell look annoyed)

 

AGENT BARWELL: Listen, BUDDY. We’re just doing our jobs.

 

LINDSAY: Were you just doing your job when you killed Fred Hampton?

 

AGENT BARWELL: YES!

 

(Forsythe holds Barwell back)

 

AGENT FORSYTHE: Hold on. Mr. Royce. Listen. You’re not in trouble. We just know seedy types frequent the clubs in this area, so we’re just asking questions. Answer them, and we’ll be on our way.

 

LINDSAY: Fine. Ask away.

 

AGENT FORSYTHE: Have you ever seen any organized crime figures, particularly those of Russian descent, patronizing your club, or any club in the surrounding areas?

 

LINDSAY: No. Are we done here?

 

(Forsythe and Barwell trade exasperated loos and stand up)

 

AGENT FORSYTHE: Thanks for your time.

 

LINDSAY: Yeah. (Forsythe and Barwell walk out of Lindsay’s office. Lindsay walks out of his office with his hands in his pockets. Everyone in the bar stares at the two FBI agents as they make their way toward entrance. After they leave, all eyes migrate back to Lindsay. Lindsay hops up on a barstool next to Savannah and beckons Jack over. Jack walks over there and leans in. Lindsay grabs Jack’s collar and pulls him in) Why the FUCK did you tell them I was here?!

 

JACK: My mom said to never lie to a police man! Let alone, TWO police men!

 

SAVANNAH: One of them was a police woman, but- let go of him!

 

(Lindsay lets go of Jack, who rears back, breathing heavily)

 

LINDSAY: I don’t think they know much yet, but.

 

SAVANNAH: Something I noticed- their badges said FBI counterintelligence.

 

LINDSAY: Not organized crime? (Savannah nods her head) I can’t tell if that’s good or bad, for us.

 

SAVANNAH: We need to dig further.

 

(Lindsay slaps the bar and points at Savannah)

 

LINDSAY: I have just the guy for this. Finally, we get to use him!

 

SAVANNAH: Who?

 

(Cut to Lindsay and Savannah sitting in James Foghat’s office. It’s a grandiose office with an oak desk, family pictures gathered on a shelf behind him and three impressive Ivy League degrees on the wall. James is behind the desk, his hands clasped, listening intently)

 

LINDSAY: Then, the agents left Annex, and we were left perplexed by their motives.

 

SAVANNAH: Not to mention their odor. One of them smelled like blueberries, the other smelled of chlorine, like had gone swimming recently.

 

LINDSAY: Yeah, I noticed that, too.

 

JAMES: Hold on. You guys are telling me you sent in two of your friends, disguised as maids, to plant a listening device in the office of the famed strip club mogul Thomas Loveman? (They nod) And that you purchased this listening device from a Russian guy in Howard Beach, who you suspect to have ties to Soviet Intelligence?

 

LINDSAY: Total speculation, on my part, to be clear.

 

SAVANNAH: Also- I didn’t purchase anything! He bought the bug.

 

JAMES: Listen, guys, you hired me as legal counsel for your night club, not- not your personal attorneys.

 

LINDSAY: Well, I think this is all related.

 

JAMES: Fair enough- but these are jaw-dropping admissions. Attorney-client privilege applies here, but, Jesus Christ, my advice to you two, would be to keep quiet, do nothing, and pray to God you don’t get caught.

 

(Lindsay and Savannah trade looks. Then they look back at James)

 

LINDSAY: Nah, I can’t see myself doing that.

 

SAVANNAH: Honestly, I agree with you, but nonetheless, I just can’t imagine a world where that happens.

 

(Cut to Brent Loveman wandering the nightlife district of Hansbay, at around 2pm. “Girl U Want” by Devo comes in as Brent stumbles into a strip club called “RACK CITY”. We see Brent in this seedy strip club, dispensing dollar bills onto the stage as the girl lethargically works the poll. She slides down the poll with her legs splayed out, and Brent jumps on stage and hugs the stripper. She pushes him into the table from whence he came, and the table falls over and he lands hard. A bunch of bouncers comes over, pick him up and drag him toward the entrance. Cut to a strip club called “POLLS R OPEN”. Brent is sitting on a couch in the private dance area, with two strippers on his arm. He’s laughing hysterically as he knocks back a full cup of straight vodka. He tears open his shirt and stars rubbing his nipples, causing the strippers to recoil and back away from him. He looks confused, as two bouncers pick him up and drag him out. Cut to a strip club called “REVERY”. Brent has climbed over the bar and is reaching his hand into the well, as people watch. Before a bartender can grab him, he snatches a bottle of champagne, runs over to the stages where the strippers are dancing, and he pops a bottle and sprays champagne all over them. The cork hits a stripper in the forehead, sending her to the ground. The rest of the strippers stop dancing and just stand shocked now that they’re covered in champagne. A bouncer tackles Brent and the bottle goes sliding across the floor. Cut to Brent slouching in a chair at the sleaziest strip joint in town- Epoch. Some of the strippers on stage are dancing, but one of them is straight up leaned up against the pole, sleeping. There is a thick haze of cigarette smoke and there are wrappers and cigarette butts all over the ground. Brent takes a glass of whiskey and throws it back, as the song ends. Two Italian-looking guys in track suits approach, one of them with thick eyebrows and a thin face, the other a little chubby and balding)

 

MOBSTER: You enjoyin’ yourself, Mister?

 

(Brent lazily looks up at them)

 

BRENT: …Yeah, I’m having a fucking ball, why?

 

BALD MOBSTER: We noticed you was at other strip clubs in town that we own, and you got kicked out of, every single one of them.

 

MOBSTER: It was almost impressive. You got lifetime bans from like, two of ‘em.

 

(Brent sits up and belches)

 

BRENT: I can leave if you guys want.

 

MOBSTER: Actually, let’s take a trip. You like trips? I went to Naples last year, it was incredible, let’s take a trip.

 

(Brent laughs nervously)

 

BRENT: …Are we going to uh, Naples? (The Mobsters laugh to each other and pick Brent up forcefully) Oh, FUCK!

 

(We cut to a chunky Italian guy with thinning hair and big dark glasses shooting pool in what appears to be a closed dive bar. He hits a solid into a pocket and starts chalking his cue. The two mobsters drag Brent into the room and the Boss looks up)

 

BOSS: Who do we got here, Rizzo?

 

RIZZO: This here’s Brent Loveman, boss.

 

BOSS: Oh, I’ve heard a lot about you, Mr. Loveman. (The Boss approaches Brent and extends his hand) Donovan Lomeli, please to meet you.

 

(Brent nervously observes Lomeli’s hand, before giving in and shaking it limply. Donovan pulls away and sets up another shot)

 

RIZZO: What should we do with him, Boss?

 

BRENT: Guys, I assure you this is a misunderstanding-

 

(Rizzo punches Brent in the stomach, and he howls in pain as Lomeli scratches on his shot. Lomeli loses his temper and breaks the cue over his knee)

 

LOMELI: GODDAMNIT! (Lomeli turns Rizzo as Brent writhes in pain) His screeching ruined my goddamn concentration!

 

RIZZO: Sorry, sir.

 

LOMELI: Just kill him already.

 

BRENT: OH, FUCK, PLEASE, NO!

 

(Brent’s pants grow a wet spot as he crumbles to his knees and starts crying. Rizzo and the other mobster laugh. Lomeli shakes his head)

 

LOMELI: Have some dignity, man.

 

BRENT: I HAVE NO DIGNITY! I NEVER HAVE! I’M SO PATHETIC AND I DON’T POSE A THREAT TO ANYONE, JUST PLEASE LET ME GO! I’LL SUCK YOUR DICK, MAN!
 

LOMELI: Why the fuck do you think I would want that? A guy to suck my dick?  (Brent puts his head on the floor and starts crying) Jesus, just kill him before he shits himself.

 

(Rizzo takes out a gun and points it at the back of Brent’s head. Suddenly, a skinny mobster with slicked-back hair and a nice black suit walks in. This appears to be a 38-year-old Giovanni Cardova)

 

GIOVANNI: Hey guys- I got bad news!

 

RIZZO: Can it wait? We’re about to kill this guy.

 

(Brent lifts his head)

 

BRENT: LET’S AT LEAST HEAR HIM OUT!

 

(Brent shits his pants loudly. Everyone holds their noses)

 

LOMELI: Jesus Christ.

 

RIZZO: Make it quick, Giovanni.

 

GIOVANNI: Skinny Fat Small Joey the Giant got killed in Manhattan.

 

LOMELI: What?!

 

RIZZO: You’re shittin’ me!

 

LOMELI: What happened?!

 

GIOVANNI: He started his car- and BOOOOOOOOOOOM!

 

LOMELI: Holy shit, a car bomb?!

 

GIOVANNI: No, someone threw an ax at his head.

 

LOMELI: Why the fuck did you go “boom”?!

 

GIOVANNI: I just do that when dramatic shit happens.

 

LOMELI: This was definitely the fuckin’ Gambinos.

 

(Brent looks up with hope in his eyes)

 

BRENT: You think so!?

 

GIOVANNI: Yeah, Skinny Fat Small Joey the Giant’s dad ratted against the Gambinos back in the sixties. His dad passed last year, and they never got to exact their vengeance.

 

BRENT: See?! Then why would you do them a favor, huh!?!?

 

(Brent laughs)

 

LOMELI: They’re our allies. We made a promise to kill this shit bird if we found him.

 

BRENT: Oh, fuuuuuck.

 

RIZZO: All due respect, Boss, I don’t wanna do no favors for the pieces of shit that killed my friend.

 

LOMELI: Don’t worry, they’ll pay with their fuckin’ blood. But this has nothing to do with any of that. Who gives a fuck about this poor bastard? (Brent is sobbing profusely. Rizzo and Giovanni trade looks) Also, and not to downplay it, but he wasn’t a made guy, so. We have to be measured.

 

(Rizzo and Giovanni clearly restrain their anger)

 

RIZZO: …Fine, Boss, but can we at least wait until he cleans himself up? I don’t wanna be around this smell any longer than I gotta be.

 

(Lomeli shrugs)

 

LOMELI: Alright, fine. Burn his clothes and you can shoot him naked.

 

BRENT: AT LEAST GIVE ME SWEATS!

 

(Rizzo and the other mobster drag a crying Brent out of the bar as Lomeli returns to lining up a shot on the pool table. Giovanni narrows his eyes and stares at the back of Lomeli’s head. Cut to Brian on Annex’s telephone)

 

BRIAN: What are you saying?!

 

(Cut to Richie in his apartment on his telephone. Intercut between them)

 

RICHIE: I kicked his ass to the curb! He was a creep!
 

BRIAN: Richie, he was there for his own safety!

 

RICHIE: I reached my limit with that dude, Brian. He would order entire feasts to the house like he was hosting the goddamn queen, and half of it would rot in the fridge and create a horrid smell, which he tried to cover up by spraying the entire goddamn apartment with HIS cologne. I had to sleep on the balcony for a week.

 

BRIAN: You should’ve let ME deal with it! Now his life is in danger!

 

RICHIE: Well, maybe that’s not such a bad thing, considering what he did.

 

(Brian sighs)

 

BRIAN: I get it, but I don’t want this guy’s blood on my hands. We’re gonna head up there, please look for him, if you can.

 

RICHIE: Yeah, I’ll keep a lookout, alright. (Richie looks around mockingly) I don’t see him in my immediate vicinity, but I’ll keep you posted.

 

(Brian rolls his eyes)

 

BRIAN: See you soon. (Brian hangs up and walks over to Nina, who’s cleaning glasses) We gotta head up to Hansbay, Brent is missing.

 

NINA: Jesus! Alright.

 

(Brian looks over at Jack, who is concocting a drink for a customer)

 

BRIAN: Nina has to take a personal day, is that alright?

 

JACK: Of course, I’ll just get Winslow to cover for her.

 

WINSLOW: (OS) Come on, man! That’s not my job!

 

JACK: He’ll give in. Don’t worry.

 

(Brian and Nina nod and get going. Winslow walks over, dejected)

 

WINSLOW: Where do you want me?

 

JACK: Some drunk lady threw up a stack of menus, start with that.

 

(Winslow sighs, grabs a brush, and gets moving. “Run to the Hills” by Iron Maiden starts playing as we see a Boeing 747 take off from JFK International Airport. We see an animation of a plane departing from a point in New York City to a point in Charlotte, North Carolina, leaving a blue ribbon in its wake. We see Brian and Nina wading through the ticket-taking line at the gate for the flight from Charlotte Douglas International to Burlington International. Brian and Nina hand the woman their tickets and are allow onto the bridge. The guy behind them is a white guy with a baseball cap with several swords strapped to his back and a small little suitcase at his side. The ticket-taker takes his ticket and waves him through. Cut to the animation of the plane taking off from Charlotte and finally ending in Burlington, Vermont, as the song ends. Cut to the exterior of Revery again. Cut to inside, where Brian and Nina are sitting in a booth, scanning the place with their eyes. They look at one another with exasperation)

 

BRIAN: Definitely not a good sign. This is the third strip club we’ve been to, and he’s nowhere to be seen.

 

NINA: Maybe he’s at a brothel.

 

BRIAN: Good thinking! (Brian gets up) Let’s go check some out-

 

NINA: Wait, you know where the brothels are?!

 

(Brian takes a gulp and widens his eyes. He quietly sits back down and clasps his hands)

 

BRIAN: …No.

 

(Nina sighs and shakes her head. Giovanni approaches, wearing a track suit now, approaches and sits down besides Brian)

 

GIOVANNI: Hey, Brian. Who’s your lady friend?

 

NINA: You know this guy?

 

BRIAN: Yeah, we went to high school together.

 

NINA: Oh, high school friends, that’s so cute. What do you do now?

 

GIOVANNI: I’m President of the tugboat operator’s union.

 

NINA: Wow! A Union leader in the Reagan era, that’s nice to see- (Brian shakes his head rapidly) oh.

 

GIOVANNI: Yeah. You know, we’ve spotted you in several of our clubs the last few hours.

 

BRIAN: Well, only three, technically.

 

GIOVANNI: “Several” can mean three.

 

BRIAN: Three is more like “a few”. Or “a couple”.

 

GIOVANNI: But “a couple” is two-

 

NINA: Well, that’s neither here nor there! What do you want?

 

GIOVANNI: We figured since you’re showing your girl around your hometown, she might want to meet the Mayor!

 

(Brian nervously chuckles)

 

BRIAN: I don’t know-

 

NINA: I think I’m good.

 

GIOVANNI: Trust us. He’s a nice guy.  (Rizzo and the other mobster from earlier approach menacingly) He has a lot of desk toys to play with.

 

NINA: I’m not fucking seven.

 

BRIAN: Nina, let’s just go with them.

 

(Cut to a plaque on a desk that reads “MAYOR ANTONIO CARDOVA”. There’s an unsolved Rubik’s cube right next to it. A hand moves into frame and picks it up. We follow it and find the face of a 48-year-old Antonio Cardova, with considerable jowls for a middle-aged man, olive skin, big glasses with a bridge between the lenses and thinning hair)

 

MAYOR CARDOVA: You ever try to solve one of these? I swear, it takes a genius to even get close. You wanna try?

 

(Antonio tosses the cube to Brian, who stumbles with it until finally catching it right before it fell to the floor. Nina is standing right next to Brian, and Giovanni and Rizzo are standing behind them)

 

BRIAN: I’ve never been able to solve it, either.

 

NINA: It’s not that hard, you just gotta look it up-

 

(Brian clears his throat. Nina nods and looks down regretfully)

 

MAYOR CARDOVA: It’s good to have you back in town, Brian. How’s your father?

 

BRIAN: He’s fantastic, thanks for asking.

 

MAYOR CARDOVA: What brings you to town?

 

BRIAN: …I… (Brian licks his lips nervously) I was just showing Nina around my hometown.

 

MAYOR CARODVA: Huh. You decided to start with a couple strip clubs?

 

GIOVANNI: It was several, Mr. Mayor.

 

BRIAN: I- I just, they were where all of my favorite memories were formed. Where I lost my first tooth. Had my first kiss. Where my…dad and I used to throw the ball around.

 

(Brian wipes sweat off his brow. Mayor Cardova smiles. Then, there’s a knock at the door)

 

MAYOR CARDOVA: Come in.

 

(Brent walks in, wearing a blonde wig and a mustache, walks in with a cup of coffee)

 

BRENT: (Gravelly voice) Your coffee, Mr. Mayor.

 

MAYOR CARDOVA: Thank you, Kelly.

 

(Brian and Nina clock Brent)

 

BRIAN: What the fuck?!

 

MAYOR CARDOVA: What? You recognize my secretary?

 

(Brent turns to Brian and Nina and grits his teeth awkwardly)

 

BRIAN: Uh…no, not at all-

 

RIZZO: Don’t worry, guys, we know it’s Brent.

 

BRIAN: What the fuck? Why?

 

MAYOR CARDOVA: I could explain, or I could let the Boss of the Cardova Family explain it.

 

(Giovanni steps forward and faces Brian and Nina)

 

BRIAN: What? Donovan Lomeli is the boss!

 

GIOVANNI: Not anymore. Let me explain. During the turbulent days of the American mafia in the 40s and 50s, wise guys were flipping like mad. Before the witness protection program, a lot of the witnesses took the initiative themselves to change their name and appearance and move to a rural area where they couldn’t be found. A lot of them moved to Hansbay, which had barely 10,000 people at the time.

 

MAYOR CARDOVA: But you know how wise guys are. They can’t help themselves.

 

GIOVANNI: The Cardova Family was founded by rats who wanted to get back in the game and start their own thing. That’s why we’re called “The Cardova Family”, even though it’s not an Italian name. We went by our assumed name.

 

NINA: How do you trust anyone if you know they’re all rats?!

 

GIOVANNI: My guys would NEVER fuckin’ betray me!

 

RIZZO: How DARE YOU!

 

GIOVANNI: THEY’RE MY BLOOD!

 

NINA: Okay! Okay! I’m sorry!

 

BRIAN: But how does that explain this?!

 

MAYOR CARDOVA: Well, Gio found this little fucker at a strip club and knew the Gambinos wanted him dead.

 

GIOVANNI: But once we found out the Gambinos killed Fat Small Joey the Giant in Manhattan for being the grandson of a rat- we didn’t feel like doing them no favors.

 

NINA: Wait- he was related to you?

 

GIOVANNI: Yeah, he was our nephew.

 

NINA: Oh my God! Why aren’t you, crying?

 

GIOVANNI: Hey, this life hardens you, what can I say?

 

MAYOR CARDOVA: We’ll get our revenge in no time.

 

BRIAN: So, how are you in charge now, Giovanni?

 

GIOVANNI: Well, our old boss Lomeli wanted us to kill Brent anyway. But we decided against it.

 

BRENT: Thank you so much! (Brent gets on his knees and starts kissing Giovanni’s shoe, but Giovanni kicks him away) OW!

 

GIOVANNI: Probably because we felt bad for him- he shat and pissed himself in fear.

 

BRENT: NO!

 

GIOVANNI: YES!

 

NINA: Oh, my God.

 

GIOVANNI: Anyway, so we decided Lomeli’s decision to do what the Gambinos wanted after they JUST killed our sister’s son was unacceptable.

 

MAYOR CARDOVA: It became clear that he didn’t have our backs. Because he’s not a Cardova.

 

GIOVANNI: So, we waited until he went on his nightly blindfolded jog.

 

(Cut to Donovan in a track suit, blindfolded, running alongside Lake Champlain. He runs past a shed, behind which we can see Giovanni lying in wait)

 

BRIAN: (OS) Blindfolded jog?!

 

GIOVANNI: (OS) He’s kind of a thrill-seeker. Anyway. I stepped out from behind the shed- (We see Giovanni stepping out from behind the shed with a gun and aiming at the back of Donovan’s head) and BOOM!

 

(Giovanni fires the gun and it strikes Donovan in the back of the head and he falls flat on the ground. Cut back to Mayor Cardova’s office)

 

BRIAN: You shot him?

 

GIOVANNI: No, I threw an axe at the back of his head.

 

(We see Giovanni step out from behind the shed and throw an axe at the back of Lomeli’s head, sending him to the ground. Cut back)

 

BRIAN: You said “boom”!

 

GIOVANNI: I say that whenever dramatic shit happens. Anyway. The crown is now mine, and your friend here is safe.

 

BRIAN: He is NOT our friend.

 

BRENT: Sure, we’re friends!

 

NINA: NO!

 

(Brent frowns and looks at the floor)

 

BRIAN: So he’s just gonna act as the Mayor’s secretary under an assumed name until things blow over?

 

MAYOR CARDOVA: That’s the plan. Go get me a croissant, wench! We thought about dressing him up like a girl, but we thought he might not be able to pull it off.

 

GIOVANNI: But we did name him “Kelly”, so he’s a LITTLE androgynous.

 

(The Mayor and Giovanni laugh and high-five)

 

NINA: You guys sure are a riot.

 

BRIAN: Honestly, it is refreshing to see him like this.

 

(Brian makes a false lunge at Brent, and he flinches, screams and recoils)

 

BRENT: Don’t hurt me!

 

MAYOR CARDOVA: Go fetch me a croissant, wench!

 

BRENT: Yes, sir, right away, sir.

 

(Brent scampers away nervously. Brian, Nina, Rizzo, Giovanni and the Mayor all chuckle)

 

BRIAN: Listen, I don’t know how to thank you-

 

MAYOR CARDOVA: Don’t worry about it, we’re not doing it for you, anyway.

 

BRIAN: …Right.

 

MAYOR CARDOVA: Please get out, now.

 

BRIAN: Okay.

 

(Brian and Nina turn around and leave. Cut to Brian and Nina exiting City Hall, walking down the steps, and turning onto the sidewalk)

 

NINA: How the hell did a mafioso get elected as Mayor?

 

BRIAN: The Cardovas have a lot of power in this city. They have for decades.

 

NINA: Wow. I feel like someone should do something about that.

 

(Brian’s eyes light up and he stops in his tracks. Nina stops too and looks over at him.

 

BRIAN: Yeah. You’re right. Someone should. (Brian strokes his chin) …Huh…

 

NINA: …Yeah. Can we keep walking, babe?

 

BRIAN: Yeah, sure.

 

(Brian and Nina resume walking. Cut to Lindsay driving his Mazda with Savannah in the passenger’s seat)

 

SAVANNAH: I’m technically not allowed to have caffeine as a straight edge, but lately I’ve been feeling like, isn’t sugar a drug, too? Why can I have sugar, but I can’t have a coffee every once and again? (Lindsay’s eyes keep shooting up to his rearview mirror. Savannah looks over at him inquisitively) …Have anything to contribute?

 

LINDSAY: Sorry, I just think this Monte Carlo is tailing me.

 

(Lindsay adjusts the mirror so Savannah can see the 1985 Monte Carlo trailing behind them)

 

SAVANNAH: I mean- he’s probably just going the same way we are.

 

LINDSAY: Savannah, he’s been following us for several blocks, now!

 

SAVANNAH: Yeah, there’s no possibility he just goes to the same McDonald’s we do.

 

LINDSAY: No fuckin’ way, I see this guy and he’s a fed for sure- I’ve never been surer in my life, I’m gonna shake him.

 

SAVANNAH: “Shake” him?  (Lindsay merges into a turn-lane and comes to a light. The light turns green and Lindsay makes a sharp left turn, causing a truck coming the other way to screech to a halt and lay on his horn) LINDSAY!

 

LINDSAY: Did I lose him!?

 

(Savannah looks through the back window and sees the Monte Carlo in the distance turning onto their street)

 

SAVANNAH: No! He’s still back there.

 

LINDSAY: Son of a bitch! I gotta faze him!

 

(Lindsay turns on his left turn signal as the Monte Carlo catches up. Lindsay looks through the back window)

 

SAVANNAH: Lindsay! Watch the road!
 

LINDSAY: HE CAUGHT BACK UP, THE BASTARD!

 

(Lindsay lays on the gas and speeds forward)

 

SAVANNAH: LINDSAY! (Lindsay turns around and flips the Monte Carlo off. Savannah turns forward and sees that they’re about to slam into the back of a car) LINDSAY, CAR!!

 

(Lindsay turns around and swerves to avoid the car, but ends up breaking through a bunch of construction guardrail and sending the car into a big ditch. Gathered construction workers gasp and flee. The car is smoking now. The airbags have deployed. Lindsay lifts his weary head from the airbag)

 

LINDSAY: …I guess this was worse than rear-ending someone…

 

(Savannah lifts her head)

 

SAVANNAH: What the FUCK, Lindsay!?

 

(The Monte Carlo pulls up outside the construction site and a guy with black hair, olive skin, hairy arms and stubble gets out and looks down into the ditch alongside some concerned construction workers)

 

MONTE CARLO: Are you two okay down there?!

 

(Lindsay painstakingly opens the door and emerges from the car and waves at them)

 

LINDSAY: We’re good! Just a bruise or two.

 

(Savannah staggers out of the passenger’s side door)

 

SAVANNAH: Thanks for checking up.

 

LINDSAY: No need to ponder whether or not it’s your fault this happened.

 

SAVANNAH: Lindsay! Stop it!
 

MONTE CARLO: Do I need to call 911!?

 

LINDSAY: Nope, just a towing company and someone who sells black market Vicodin, thanks.

 

(Cut to Lindsay and Savannah sitting in Lindsay’s office. Each of them have a McDonald’s bag at their side, and Lindsay is eating a Big Mac and Savannah is absent-mindedly eating fries out of the their container)

 

SAVANNAH: If that guy was a Fed, he wouldn’t have gotten out of the car to check up on us.

 

LINDSAY: Or maybe that’s EXACTLY what he would’ve done

 

(Savannah sighs and chomps on a few fries)

 

SAVANNAH: We saw him at the McDonald’s after!

 

LINDSAY: EXACTLY!

 

SAVANNAH: WORKING THERE! (Lindsay nods his head and smiles. Savannah shakes her head and eats some more fries) You’re impossible.

 

LINDSAY: Fine, maybe he wasn’t a Fed. But I had a right to be suspicious. Those pigs strolling in here like they own the place. I should’ve kicked both of them in the nuts- at the same time!

 

(Lindsay takes a bite of his burger. Savannah squints)

 

SAVANNAH: How? Would you jump?

 

LINDSAY: (Mouth full) I’d be sitting down.

 

SAVANNAH: Still, their nuts would have to be at a very particular distance and height for that to work-

 

(Lindsay swallows)

 

LINDSAY: Just forget it, okay?

 

(Cut to the exterior of Lindsay’s apartment building later that night. Lindsay walks out of the building’s lobby with his coat on and lights up a cigarette. He puts his lighter away and proceeds to walk down the sidewalk, puffing away. When he passes by an alley, the Monte Carlo guy jumps out and puts Lindsay in a chokehold and uses his hand to cover his mouth)

 

MONTE CARLO: SHHH!

 

LINDSAY: (Muffled) FUCK! I KNEW IT!

 

(The Monte Carlo guy slams Lindsay against a wall and points a gun into his gut)

 

MONTE CARLO: Make a single sound and I’ll leave your insides as a snack for the alley cats. (Lindsay puts his hands up. Monte Carlo removes his hand from Lindsay’s mouth) Which Russian did you buy the bug from!? (Lindsay shrugs and points to his mouth) YES! You can talk now!
 

LINDSAY: First of all- I fucking knew it! Goddamn, I feel so vindicated!

 

MONTE CARLO: SHUT UP! Who’d you buy it from!?

 

LINDSAY: Wait- you’re FBI, right?

 

(Monte Carlo hesitantly nods)

 

MONTE CARLO: Yep.

 

LINDSAY: Where’s your badge?

 

MONTE CARLO: I’m not on the clock, right now.

 

LINDSAY: Wait, you’re an FBI agent who works undercover at a McDonald’s? (Monte Carlo stomps on Lindsay’s foot) SHIT!

 

MONTE CARLO: Just answer my question, swine!

 

LINDSAY: I don’t talk to FBI, man- (Monte Carlo grabs Lindsay’s balls and squeezes them) FUCK, FUCK! OKAY! OKAY! I’LL TELL YOU WHATEVER YOU WANT, JUST LET GO!

 

MONTE CARLO: SAY IT FIRST!
 

LINDSAY: GUY NAMED DIMITRI IN HOWARD BEACH, THAT’S ALL I KNOW, MAN!

 

MONTE CARLO: WHAT’S HE LOOK LIKE?!

 

LINDSAY: UH-UH-UH, FAT, BALD, STUBBLY, AND-AND-AND, FUCKIN’ RUSSIAN, DUDE!

 

(Monte Carlo lets go of Lindsay’s balls and wipes off his hands)

 

MONTE CARLO: (Russian accent) Spasibo. (Monte Carlo freezes. Lindsay’s jaw drops. Monte Carlo returns to an American accent, but remains nervous) Got ya!

 

(Monte Carlo laughs awkwardly and runs away. Lindsay looks psyched and pumps his fist)

 

LINDSAY: A REAL Soviet Spy, dude! That rules! (Lindsay smiles and looks down at his crotch) God, I hope I can still have kids after this.

 

(Lindsay limps away. Cut to an empty Catholic church late at night. There are rows of empty pews and a statue of Jesus on the cross on the dais. We get a shot of his pained face, and the nails in his hands and feet. A sound bellows through the Church as Nina opens the door at the far end. She walks in and crosses herself. She stands before the statue of Jesus on the cross and takes a deep breath. She approaches the cross and falls to her knees before it, and clasps her hands together)

 

NINA: …Lord, I know it’s been a while. I haven’t been a good girl. I’ve been living a life of sin. (She sniffs) I know you don’t owe shit to me, that’s what my faith and upbring taught me. But I need you right now, nonetheless. (Tears stream down her cheeks) …If I don’t tell Spencer where Brent is…he could ruin me. Even worse, he could ruin my kids’ lives. (She dabs her tears with a tissue) They don’t deserve that. But I can’t condemn this man to death. (Sniffs) If I do that, I’m just as responsible as Spencer, aren’t I? We’ll both be side-by-side in Hell, getting sodomized by the same million-foot hot poker, isn’t that correct? We’ll be on the same kebab skewer, right?! RIGHT?! (Nina shakes her head and takes a gulp) Sorry, Jesus, I didn’t mean to snap at you. I just don’t know what to do. (Long beat. Nina smirks) …Sometimes I feel like I never know what to do. But then again, I don’t think anyone else does either. We’re all just pretending that we know what we’re… (Nina trails off and furrows her brow, appearing to realize something) oh my God. I mean, gosh. (She looks up at Jesus) Sorry again. I have to go, though. I love you, Jesus. (Nina stands up, crosses herself, and heads toward the door. She then turns back to Jesus) Do you know where the nearest gun store is? (A moment passes as Nina nods as if listening) Okay, across the street? Right next to the liquor store? Alright, thanks.

 

(Nina shuffles towards the door and leaves the church. Cut to Nina at the counter in a gun store. A chubby guy wearing a green cap and with obnoxious sideburns is holding a revolver. His nametag says “L. Jones”)

 

JONES: So, this is a standard Smith & Wesson, it’s around $150.

 

NINA: Great, I’ll take it.

 

JONES: I’m gonna need to see your permit.

 

NINA: Of course.

 

(Nina takes out a New York State firearm license with Logan Speranza’s name and picture on it and shows it Jones. Jones furrows his brow and his eyes dart back and forth between the photo and Nina’s face)

 

JONES: …You’re Logan Speranza?

 

NINA: It’s Lilly Speranza now, but yes.

 

(Nina smiles, and Jones shudders and opens his register. Nina takes out seven twenties and a ten and puts in the counter, and Jones starts counting it up. Cut to Spencer sitting on the couch, dipping a spoon into a pint of Breyer’s vanilla ice cream while watching TV. The “Growing Pains” theme is playing as he brings a scoop of ice cream to his mouth. There’s a knock at the door. Spencer shoots up)

 

SPENCER: Who is it?

 

NINA: (OS) It’s Nina.

 

SPENCER: Oh, good! (Spencer picks up the remote and turns off the TV. He puts the ice cream down, walks over and opens the door) I was beginning to get worried, we had agreed- (Nina pulls out the revolver and points it at Spencer. He instinctively holds his hands up) h-holy shit, Nina, what the hell are you doing!?

 

(Nina walks in and shuts the door behind her as Spencer backs away)

 

NINA: You’re so full of SHIT.

 

SPENCER: Nina! Where’d you get that?  How do you even know how to use it?

 

NINA: I’M A FUCKIN’ ITALIAN IN NEW YORK CITY!

 

SPENCER: Nina, what’s bothering you? Come on, let’s talk.

 

NINA: YOU are bothering me. But not for long.

 

(Nina clicks the hammer back. Spencer flinches)

 

SPENCER:  NINA! COME ON! I KNOW THIS ISN’T YOU! I KNOW YOU WOULDN’T DO THIS!

 

NINA: I know the same thing, about YOU.

 

SPENCER: What do you mean?!

 

NINA: I know you’re not gonna tell the police about Logan, IDIOT! I know that if you told them, they’d wonder how YOU knew anything about it at all, and then suddenly, your closet’s getting examined!

 

SPENCER: First of all- there’s NOTHING in my closet! Secondly, I’d just leave an anonymous tip!

 

NINA: Sure, an anonymous tip! I’m sure whatever cop you barked up to find out about this isn’t gonna make the connection as to who called that in!

 

SPENCER: Nina, you don’t know what you’re talking about-

 

NINA: I bet the mob would have an even HARDER time putting it together! “Hmm, I wonder if Nina decided suddenly to doom her children AND HERSELF, by telling the cops- yeah, it was probably her! Not any other manipulative pricks we’ve been in contact with recently!”

 

SPENCER: Well, fine, but if I leave you out of it, the Gambinos will kill you for telling on them!

 

NINA: Maybe, but then I’ll be killed if I tell you where Brent is, because if Brent is killed, the Cardovas will suspect Brian and I of leaking the information to the Gambinos. So, either way I may die, but so may you, BITCH!

 

(Nina lunges at Spencer and he falls scared onto the couch, with his hands raised)

 

SPENCER: PLEASE! Please, can you just put the gun down?!

 

NINA: I know you’re bluffing, you sniveling, ancient cunt.

 

SPENCER: How can you know for sure?!

 

(Nina reveals the revolver’s empty chamber with a “click”. Spencer is dumbfounded)

 

NINA: Because so am I. (Nina drops the gun on the floor) You want to kill Brent? Fine. Find him yourself. (Nina turns to go, but then comes back and picks up the gun) Actually, don’t use this gun, because then they’ll think I did it.

 

SPENCER: Right.

 

NINA: Alright, goodbye.

 

(Nina leaves out the front door. Spencer just sits there reeling with widened eyes. Cut to Lindsay driving Savannah in his rental car- a 1980 Honda Accord with an air freshener hanging off the rearview. Lindsay is playing with the radio)

 

SAVANNAH: What!?

 

LINDSAY: Yeah, he said something in Russian to me. Doesn’t that rule?

 

SAVANNAH: You got beat up by a Russian spy?

 

LINDSAY: Seems like it! Ugh, all the channel presets are wrong.

 

SAVANNAH: And he works at a McDonald’s?!

 

LINDSAY: Honestly, could they have picked a more American institution to infiltrate?

 

SAVANNAH: Why are you psyched about this!?

 

LINDSAY: Come on! A REAL-LIFE RUSSIAN SPY!

 

SAVANNAH: Keep your voice down, they FBI could be bugging us!

 

LINDSAY: Oh, so now you’re the paranoid one.

 

SAVANNAH: After you came face-to-face with a Russian spy, yeah! Stop futzing with the radio!

 

LINDSAY: Fine, I’ll leave it here.

 

NEWS ANCHOR: (On radio) Of Israeli intelligence, Jonathan Pollard, pled guilty today to espionage, after it was uncovered that he sold U.S. military secrets to Israel. He could face the death penalty under U.S. law, though most analysts suspect he will instead receive substantial prison time.

 

SAVANNAH: God, there’s spies everywhere!
 

NEWS ANCHOR: (On radio) In local news, a shooting in Howard Beach last night left one man dead- and the police with a variety of questions.  (Lindsay and Savannah furrow their brows) The victim has been identified as 47-year-old Dimitri Chernyshevsky-

 

LINDSAY: Oh, SHIT!

 

SAVANNAH: Oh, my God.

 

NEWS ANCHOR: (OS) He was shot outside the Fresh Food Bodega on 92nd street, and the NYPD says the assailant fled in a black sedan. They have no description of the shooter as of yet, but they said they would, quote, “get right on that”.

 

LINDSAY: Well, that’s a lot less fun.

 

NEWS ANCHOR: (OS) British actress Anna Neagle died yesterday at age 81-

 

(Savannah shuts off the radio)

 

SAVANNAH: He could’ve killed you. You didn’t know. (Lindsay nods and holds Savannah’s hand. Cut to Lindsay and Savannah sitting at the bar in Annex. “Material Girl” by Madonna is playing faintly in the background. Jack serves Lindsay a whiskey and Savannah a Coca-Cola. She pushes it aside) Fuck it. Make me a coffee.

 

JACK: Sure thing.

 

(Jack gets to work making her a coffee using the Mr. Coffee on the back counter. Lindsay turns to Savannah, with his hand lethargically cradling his head)

 

LINDSAY: …There’s been so much violence around us lately. What the fuck is that about?

 

SAVANNAH: …I don’t know, honestly. Bad luck. Bad choices.

 

LINDSAY: Let’s stick with “bac luck”.

 

SAVANNAH: Alright.

 

LINDSAY: …I wish there was a way to make things better.

 

SAVANNAH: For us?

 

LINDSAY: For everyone.

 

(Savannah shrugs)

 

SAVANNAH: Individuals can only do so much.

 

LINDSAY: Right, but what CAN we do?

 

(Savannah sighs)

 

SAVANNAH: …We can just be kind to other people, as much as we can.

 

(Savannah points conspicuously to Winslow, who’s DJing in the back of the room. Lindsay nods understandingly. Lindsay gets up and walks over to Winslow. Winslow pulls his headphones off)

 

WINSLOW: Yes, sir?

 

LINDSAY: Winslow. You’re doing a good job.

 

(Winslow smirks and nods)

 

WINSLOW: Thank you, sir.

 

LINDSAY: I promise I will never hit you.

 

WINSLOW: Really should go without saying- but, thank you, sir.

 

(Lindsay nods)

 

LINDSAY: By the way, I told you not to play Madonna, or do you need to get your fucking hearing checked? (Winslow deflates and takes the record off the turntable) Good. Thank you. (Lindsay smiles and walks back toward a disappointed Savannah, shaking her head) What?

 

(Cut to Brian plunging a spoon into a half-gallon of Breyer’s chocolate ice cream in his kitchen. He scoops it into his mouth and closes his eyes as he savors it. He hears his door unlock and he steps into the foyer to see who it is)

 

BRIAN: Lindsay, you’re home already-? (Brian sees Nina standing there) Oh. Nina, what’s up?

 

NINA: Nothing. I just. I wanted to be here.

 

(Nina walks over to the couch and plops down on it. Brian puts the ice cream down)

 

BRIAN: …Listen, we never really talked about the Gambino thing, and I owe you an explanation. (Brian walks over and sits down next to Nina) There was this misunderstanding where Lindsay tussled with this Gambino soldier,  and the only way to resolve it without anyone getting hurt was to give them a mob tithe. We figured, half the clubs in NYC do it anyway, what’s the big deal? But you’re right, it was cowardly and-

 

(Nina holds up her hand)

 

NINA: Please, don’t apologize. You were just protecting yourself, and your friends. (Nina looks into Brian’s eyes) …I know what it’s like to make sacrifices for the people I love, too.

 

(A tear runs down Brian’s cheek as he stares into Nina’s eyes, and he goes in for a passionate kiss. They embrace and kiss passionately. “Starpower” by Sonic Youth comes in as we cut to credits)

 

THE END


Submitted: March 30, 2021

© Copyright 2022 NEONETWORK. All rights reserved.

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