The Donahues Episode 103

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
Ryan suffers from Hypochondria and anxiety, Brennan suffers from guilt and Ethan catches his brother in a compromising situation

Submitted: June 26, 2013

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Submitted: June 26, 2013

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THE DONAHUES

 

“THE HAUNTING IN VERMONT”

 

TV-MA DL

 

“Ugh - I seem to have an itchy chin. Oh my god - what's on my skin? A blemish - wasn't there the other day -that's it, I'm dead - I'm off to pray!”

-Mark Slaughter

 

(Cut to Ryan sitting in his room on his laptop. He is typing something)

 

RYAN: “I envy your shadow as it passes by, I can’t help but…wish…I could…” damnit, it’d be so much easier to be a rapper, I could just say “I want to fuck you”. (Ryan grabs his arm suddenly) Ah! Shit. That hurts. God, my arm hurts. Fuck, that’s…that means heart trouble, right? This could be one of those ominous pains that old men have and ignore days before they have a massive coronary in the middle of the pledge of allegiance! Worst part is, I drink and do drugs! I can’t ignore these random pains anymore. (Ryan gets off of his bed and walks downstairs to see Ethan, Kimberly and Jacob watching Nick Wallenda tight rope across the Grand Canyon) Hey dad, I-

 

ETHAN: Shh. Ryan, this guy is tight roping across the Grand Canyon with no net and no harness!

 

RYAN: He better either finish or fall to his death before MAD MEN starts.

 

JACOB: He has to survive the elements and get to the other side, it’s nerve-wracking. He has to deal with wind, heat, rain, tornadoes, hurricanes, Indian-Americans shooting arrows at him-

 

KIMBERLY: Plus he has to worry about how Willie Geist and his news chair are so close to the edge of that cliff.

 

ETHAN: I don’t know if I mind that.

 

RYAN: I do. He’s a handsome man. But it looks like Nick’s carrying a lot of weight.

 

JACOB: He is, he has cameras attached to his shirt to give the viewers a first-hand view.

 

KIMBERLY: Does he have a camera in his colon for when he shits himself?

 

ETHAN: Plus, that bar he’s holding to keep his balance, is about the weight of a five year old.

 

RYAN: Then why didn’t he just carry one of his kids out there with him? It’s a better fate than growing up without a father.

 

(Winds start blowing towards Nick Wallenda while he’s walking the tightrope)

 

NICK WALLENDA: Thank you, Jesus, calm that down. Thank you, Jesus, calm that down.

 

RYAN: He realizes Jesus can’t control the wind, right? It’s caused by atmospheric pressure.

 

KIMBERLY: Plus, according to his logic, wasn’t it Jesus who blew the winds on him to begin with? What a dick move on Jesus’ part.

 

ETHAN: I will not sit here and be subjected to this anti-religious bigotry! This man is murmuring so constantly about Jesus, I’m surprised on of Obama’s drones hasn’t taken him out yet.

 

RYAN: By the way dad, I’m going to schedule a doctor’s appointment for tomorrow, is that okay?

 

ETHAN: What is it regarding?

 

RYAN: Just…sundry things. Maladies of all shapes and sizes. I may have red disease.

 

KIMBERLY: That’s a fungal infection found on lawns.

 

RYAN: Yeah, and I have it! Plus, I might have MERS-COV, a slight cold and Crohn’s feet!

 

KIMBERLY: Crohn’s feet?

 

RYAN: Yeah, it’s when you have crow’s feet on your colon!

 

JACOB: Ew.

 

ETHAN: Fine, just schedule it. Let him get this stuff off his chest.

 

RYAN: Thanks.

 

(Ryan walks out of the room. Cut to Ryan sitting in a doctor’s office, waiting. He is watching the news on the TV in the doctor’s office. Patrick White is reporting)

 

PATRICK WHITE: News has come in that Hong Kong will not turn over Edward Snowden to authorities have determined the charges against him are not political. We will have more-(Patrick puts his finger to his ear piece) I’m sorry, we’re getting breaking news that he has fled to Moscow with the help of WikiLeaks, where-okay, more breaking news, he is planning on seeking asylum in Ecuador- we’re also getting word he’s going to Cuba-no, he’s still in Moscow, buying a Twix bar from the airport-wait-Putin has stolen the Twix bar, wait, more breaking news, Snowden and Julian Assange have stowed away on a flight to the moon and have died in an intergalactic Thelma and Louise style suicide in space!

 

(The song “Fly Me to the Moon” by Frank Sinatra plays as they show a picture of Edward Snowden and Julian Assange side by side, with the text “Edward Snowden, 1983-2013” and “Julian Assange, 1971-2013”)

 

RYAN: Such developments!

 

(Doctor Hammond comes in holding a chart)

 

DOCTOR HAMMOND: Good day, Ryan.

 

RYAN: Hello, Doctor Hammond.

 

DOCTOR HAMMOND: What seems to be the trouble?

 

RYAN: Well, I have this thing, this pain. I’m not sure what it is. It travels around, it’s on my wrist and it does this ticking noise, it’s another appendage, sometimes it talks, and I’m like “shut up!” (Cut to the Doctor’s face, which is displaying a grave countenance and is tilted slightly to the right) Sometimes it goes on vacation, sometimes it tousles my hair, sometimes it’s loud, other times it has a bluish hue. (Cut to the Doctor’s face again, which bears an even graver countenance than before and is headed is tiled much more to the right) Sometimes it feels good, sometimes I don’t think it’s a problem at all! So, what do you make of it, doc? Give it to me straight.

 

DOCTOR HAMMOND: …In my eighteen years as a physician, I have performed surgery on a crashing plane in the dead of night. I have removed a pair of glasses that were impaled in a human anus. I have had an orangutan with the sniffles walk into my office and ask me for a raise! I was fairly certain he was not under my employ! But never have I ever been more afraid to diagnose someone’s problem than I am right now.

 

RYAN: What’ my problem?

 

DOCTOR HAMMOND: I think you’re beyond a hypochondriac, how is your mouth not dripping matzo right now?

 

RYAN: Only Jews can be hypochondriacs?

 

DOCTOR HAMMOND: I didn’t say that, you just look like a matzo man, I personally am a tits man.

 

RYAN: I’m an ass man. I want that nice firm ass. The tits could honestly matter less, as long as they’re not flat, it’s cute when they’re smaller.

 

DOCTOR HAMMOND: Ryan, it seems like you just have anxiety, are you still taking what I prescribed you?

 

RYAN: I’ve been abusing the Xanax, honestly. I need something that will ensure where I’m going to be waking up in the morning. Something more, regular.

 

DOCTOR HAMMOND: Didn’t I have you on anti-depressants?

 

RYAN: Yeah, but they don’t work for shit! I have MDD right?

 

DOCTOR HAMMOND: You have a medium case of MDD.

 

RYAN: Well, my life is fucking shit, and the only thing I depend on is these little things to get me by, and-

 

DOCTOR HAMMOND: Ryan, save it for your therapist, I’m just here to throw pills at you like you’re a dolphin at Sea World.

 

RYAN: Fair enough.

 

DOCTOR HAMMOND: I’m prescribing you Seroquel. It’s usually reserved for schizophrenic patients, but at low doses it can treat anxiety.

 

RYAN: Alright. Do you think I have Crohn’s Feet by the way?

 

DOCTOR HAMMOND: Yeah, you have Crohn’s Feet, but don’t worry, it’s a purely aesthetic issue.

 

RYAN: Cool.

 

(Doctor Hammond begins writing a prescription. Cut to Brennan, Norman and Jeff Sanford watching television in their house. Norman is on the phone)

 

NORMAN: We need vending machines, not only in hospitals, but we need them in patient’s rooms! We need them underwater for Christ’s sake, let’s vend the world! Let’s make sure that a Twix bar stuck in a ring is the only reason there’s any famine on Earth! You know what? I WILL NOT BE OUTDONE! (Norman hangs up) Fucking interloper.

 

BRENNAN: What was that about?

 

NORMAN: I don’t know, but we need a break, wouldn’t you guys agree?

 

JEFF: A break from what?

 

NORMAN: I need a break from work, Brennan needs a break from sulking around because his boyfriend left him and I need a break from…work, did I say that one?

 

JEFF: Yes, but why do I need a break? I have a wonderful girlfriend, Corinne.

 

BRENNAN: Who you’re an asshole to.

 

JEFF: Hashtag girl problems!

 

BRENNAN: That’s not a response to what I just said!

 

NORMAN: Regardless, Brennan, Jeff, we’re going on a cruise. How does that sound?

 

BRENNAN: I don’t know, my ex went on a cruise recently and it almost sank.

 

NORMAN: Well, would that have been so bad?

 

BRENNAN: No, it actually wouldn’t have.

 

JEFF: I’m down, should be dope.

 

NORMAN: Great! I’ll call right now. (Norman takes out his phone and dials a number) Hello, is this Royal Caribbean?

 

(Cut to Jim Cornish’s dad, Matthew Cornish, at the Royal Caribbean office in Burlington, Vermont on the phone)

 

MATTHEW CORNISH: Hello, thank you for calling Royal Caribbean, this is Matthew. How can I help you?

 

NORMAN: (On the phone) Hi, I was wondering if I could book a cruise for June 28th through the thirtieth maybe?

 

MATTHEW: Sure, sure. Any specific destination or do you want to take flood Burlington by taking a cruise on Lake Champlain?

 

(They both laugh)

 

NORMAN: Of course not, I want to take a cruise, maybe to the fountain of youth. Or maybe the lost colony of Roanoke, hell, maybe Turkey or Brazil, I’m looking to get into trouble.

 

MATTHEW: I’ll put you down for Caribbean Island.

 

NORMAN: Is that a, real place?

 

MATTHEW: Probably! What’s your name, sir?

 

NORMAN: Norman. Norman Sanford.

 

(Matthew’s face becomes stone and he puts down his pen)

 

MATTHEW: You son of a bitch.

 

NORMAN: Excuse me?

 

MATTHEW: YOUR SON KILLED MY SON! I will make sure you never get a cruise ANYWHERE! You have been BLACK LISTED!

 

(Matthew hangs up. Cut to a shocked Norman on the phone. He hangs up)

 

NORMAN: …Jesus.

 

BRENNAN: What?

 

NORMAN: Um…I guess we’re not going on a Royal Caribbean cruise.

 

JEFF: Why?

 

NORMAN: Because the guy I talked to is Jim Cornish’s father and he recognized my name.

 

BRENNAN: …Oh. Shit.

 

NORMAN: Yeah. Don’t worry, Brennan, it was in self-defense.

 

BRENNAN: I know. I don’t regret it.

 

JEFF: Yeah, I would’ve done it.

 

BRENNAN: Well, that certainly doesn’t make me feel better.

 

(Brennan gets up and walks away. Cut to Michelle and Coin listening to heavy metal and dancing in Michelle’s room, head banging about. They also spin themselves around and dance in a 1920s theatre type of way, using jazz hands and wide eyes. Then they do the Charleston and the music skips out and turns off, and they stop)

 

COIN: Shit, what happened?

 

MICHELLE: I don’t know. It was probably for the best, that was getting weird.  (The doorbell rings) I’ll get it. (Michelle walks out of her room and goes to her front door and opens it to reveal Brennan standing there) Brennan?

 

BRENNAN: Hey. Are you sorry I came?

 

MICHELLE: No, of course not, come in. (Brennan walks in and Michelle shuts the door) How are you holding up?

 

BRENNAN: Since 9/11? Well, it’s been a tough twelve years, but I’m making progress every day-

 

(Michelle chuckles)

 

MICHELLE: No, since Ryan?

 

BRENNAN: Ryan is the least of my problems right now.

 

(Coin comes out of Michelle’s room)

 

COIN: Hey Michelle, how many of your thumbs could fit on Ryan’s dick-oh hey, Brennan.

 

BRENNAN: Hey, Coin.

 

MICHELLE: Come in.

 

(Brennan walks in to Michelle’s room, along with Michelle and Coin. Michelle closes the door and they all sit down)

 

BRENNAN: …Do you guys think I’m a bad person?

 

(Michelle and Coin look confused)

 

MICHELLE: Of course not, Brennan. If anyone’s a bad person, it’s Ryan.

 

BRENNAN: WHY DO PEOPLE ALWAYS MAKE THIS ABOUT RYAN?! (Brennan regains his composure) Sorry.

 

MICHELLE: That’s okay, but if this isn’t about Ryan, what is it about?

 

BRENNAN: First of all, Ryan’s not a bad person. He’s flawed, certainly, but he’s good.

 

COIN: You’re being remarkably forgiving, I would’ve put his pecker on display right next to King Tut’s.

 

BRENNAN: I don’t think you’ll have that problem, Coin.

 

COIN: True. But I’m sure King Tut had a pair of lips too.

 

(Brennan and Michelle laugh. Cut to Ethan and Mayor Sarandon in his office, talking)

 

MAYOR SARANDON: Did you watch any of the George Zimmerman trial today?

 

ETHAN: Yeah, why?

 

MAYOR SARANDON: The defendant’s lawyer started off with a knock-knock joke. A fuckin’ knock-knock joke! They apparently hired a 17 year old autistic kid to defend Zimmerman!

 

ETHAN: Was the knock-knock joke “knock knock, who’s there? Trayvon.” (Ethan makes his finger into a gun and pretend shoots it several times with sound effects, making Mayor Sarandon and him laugh) Trayvon who?

 

(They laugh more. The buzzer goes off, causing Mayor Sarandon to press the button)

 

MAYOR SARANDON: Yes, Maria?

 

MARIA: (On the intercom) Sir, Mr. Donahue’s wife called, she says he needs to go home because the pest control guy is there and you need to be there for him.

 

MAYOR SARANDON: Like, emotionally?

 

MARIA: …No, like, physically be there.

 

ETHAN: I got it Maria, thanks.

 

(Mayor Sarandon takes his finger off the button)

 

MAYOR SARANDON: So you’re leaving?

 

ETHAN: I’ll be back. We still have a few hours left.

 

MAYOR SARANDON: Alright.

 

(Ethan nods and leaves the room. Cut to him pulling up to the house in his car. Ethan gets out of the car and walks to the door he takes out his keys, but then, just pushes the door open, leaving him confused as to why the door was unlocked)

 

ETHAN: Goddamnit, did Ryan leave it unlocked? I guess he doesn’t care about people stealing his bows. (Ethan walks in and closes the door. He hears something coming from his bedroom) …What the fuck? (Ethan takes a gun out of his pocket) Vermont open carry. (He creeps along very slowly as he notices someone tracked mud in) These look like adult mud tracks and they’re not Ryan’s VANS. (He sidles up to the wall outside Ethan and Kimberly’s bedroom, his gun drawn. He kicks the door open points the gun to see Paul Donahue, his 54-year old brother wearing Kimberly’s jewelry. He puts his hands up and screams) WHAT THE FUCK, PAUL?!

 

PAUL: ETHAN! HI!

 

(Ethan puts his gun down)

 

ETHAN: Paul, what the FUCK are you doing here and what the FUCK are you doing with my wife’s jewelry?!

 

(Paul puts his hands down)

 

PAUL: I was making sure it fit her, I was doing her a service, free of charge. Actually, could I charge you? I’m tight on cash.

 

ETHAN: Paul, don’t bullshit me, how would you trying on her jewelry be making sure it fits my wife?! You were fucking burglarizing my house!

 

PAUL: Ethan, let me explain.

 

ETHAN: No, get the fuck out.

 

PAUL: Ethan, mom and dad kicked me out.

 

ETHAN: Holy shit, it’s about time! What did you do?

 

PAUL: I may have been using their credit cards for miscellaneous purposes.

 

ETHAN: Like, buying meth?

 

PAUL: No, I did not put meth my credit card, that’s usually a debit issue. Regardless, I don’t do meth anymore! Okay?

 

ETHAN: Paul, you broke into my house and tried to steal my things, presumably to sell them, for what? Milk and cookies?

 

PAUL: No, I wasn’t going to sell the jewelry for meth, I was going to sell it for money! That’s what I need right now, scratch! Dosh! The Big Easy!

 

ETHAN: The first two made sense, the third one was New Orleans.

 

PAUL: I’m low on paper, Ethan!

 

ETHAN: How is that my problem?

 

PAUL: You’re my brother!

 

ETHAN: And you’re a 54-year old man who up until recently lived with his parents and who is still, at this very moment, wearing my wife’s jewelry!

 

(Paul takes all of it off and puts it back on her dresser)

 

PAUL: Happy?

 

ETHAN: Paul, what could you possibly want from me?

 

PAUL: I need a place to crash for a while.

 

ETHAN: Absolutely not! Absolutely not! Kimberly’s ASSHOLE half-brother has already been living with us for eleven months!

 

PAUL: So you can take in Kimberly’s relatives, but not your own?! What if it was Allison?

 

ETHAN: Allison would never do this! She’s an ophthalmologist!

 

PAUL: Maybe she would steal your wife’s contact solution!

 

ETHAN: Paul, get the fuck out. I’m sorry, but get out before I call the police.

 

PAUL: …Where am I going to sleep?

 

(Ethan sighs and takes out his wallet, and takes out a ninety dollar bill with Mayor Sarandon on it smoking a cigarette in a cigarette holder and the bill is signed by former Treasury Secretary Timothy Geithner)

 

ETHAN: Here’s ninety bucks. Go find yourself a hotel room.

 

PAUL: There’s no way that’s legal tender.

 

ETHAN: Fine. (Ethan puts the ninety dollars back and takes out a 100 dollar bill bill) Go find yourself a slightly nicer hotel, but no Twix bars from the candy machine.

 

PAUL: I don’t want your money!
 

(Paul snatches the hundred dollar bill from his hands and walks out of the room. Cut to Ethan and Kimberly sitting in their living room)

 

ETHAN: I just don’t know what to do with him! He tried to STEAL your jewelry!

 

KIMBERLY: That’s nice jewelry too, those were fucking blood diamonds.

 

ETHAN: Wait, really?

 

KIMBERLY: Yeah, I had to scratch the shit out of another woman to get them, it was Black Friday.

 

ETHAN: The diamonds are less important, what’s more important is that my brother is desperate.

 

KIMBERLY: We’re not bringing him in.

 

ETHAN: Of course not.

 

KIMBERLY: But you don’t have to completely leave him in the cold.

 

ETHAN: Why not? What has he ever done for me? He was a bully of a big brother.

 

KIMBERLY: But that was thirty years ago! Now he’s on his knees, asking for your help.

 

ETHAN: Well, he can suck my dick while he’s down there, he chose to rob me before asking for jack shit.

 

KIMBERLY: Maybe it was a cry for attention?

 

ETHAN: Maybe it was a cry for my stuff! He’s a bum, he doesn’t want to work for anything, I can’t just give him a handout.

 

KIMBERLY: Then don’t. Get him a job.

 

ETHAN: …Motherfucker.

 

(Cut to Ryan at his therapist’s office, sitting across from Doctor McMorris)

 

RYAN: Sometimes when I’m driving, I start thinking about something unpleasant, and so I start to get panicky feelings, so I breathe in and out slowly, like you said, I grab my horn like a stress ball-

 

DOCTOR MCMORIS: I didn’t say you should do that.

 

RYAN: And then it goes away, slowly but surely.

 

DOCTOR MCMORRIS: What are the unpleasant feelings?

 

RYAN: …Usually about Brennan and how he hates me…eleven years of friendship, and I just threw it away.

 

DOCTOR MCMORRIS: Is it really over?

 

RYAN: …I don’t know. He doesn’t talk to me or text me or anything. He agreed to be in KDGM next year though, so I hope that’ll rekindle something. Meanwhile, I’m just always feeling down. Unless I’m with Sarah, with friends or writing my music. And even then it seeps its way in. Writing music is cathartic, but it’s a sort of, bitter sweet feeling. I’m just always depending on these little things to get me by. It’s almost exhausting to have to chase after them.

 

DOCTOR MCMORRIS: it looks like it is exhausting. Are you sleeping okay?

 

RYAN: It’s quite frankly amazing I’m getting much sleep at all. I dread going to sleep at night, something about routine disturbs me…

 

DOCTOR MCMORRIS: Now I can’t see that. Tuesday-Friday, 10AM-4PM, I’m in here, looking at patients sit on the couch, it’s exhausting, but I appreciate the routine.

 

RYAN: Looking and listening to them on the couch, right?

 

DOCTOR MCMORRIS: Pardon?

 

RYAN: Jesus, I need to get into psychology. Plus, I’ve been thinking about Iraq recently…which I don’t do often, believe it or not.

 

DOCTOR MCMORRIS: I believe it. That’s a traumatic experience. Who wants to think about that?

 

RYAN: Yeah…my first international trip and I go there…(He shakes his head) Jon Stewart’s in the Middle East right now, directing his movie. When I was in the Middle East, no one filled in for me, especially not John Oliver.

 

DOCTOR MCMORRIS: I don’t have-

 

RYAN: Cable, I get it. I like John Oliver actually, I just miss Jon Stewart. It was fourteen months ago when it happened. They beat me. I thought I was going to…

 

(Ryan puts his head down. He starts breathing heavily and slowly)

 

DOCTOR MCMORRIS: Are you okay?

 

(Ryan taps his foot and nods quickly. He lifts his head back up)

 

RYAN: I had a dream last night…that I was walking through doors, each room was exactly the same. It was an endless series of rooms and doors. I couldn’t escape. Everything was grotesque, I looked like I was painted by Pablo Picasso. Eventually I locked myself in a closet and tried to jam a hunk of metal into my skull, to try to kill myself.

 

DOCTOR MCMORRIS: Well, this seems like a terrible place to stop, but we do have to wrap up.

 

RYAN: Okay.

 

(The Doctor takes out his appointment ledger and pen)

 

DOCTOR MCMORRIS: What day should we next occasion to meet?

 

RYAN: What is today, the 25th?

 

DOCTOR MCMORRIS: Yes.

 

RYAN: I guess, put me down for July 2nd.

 

DOCTOR MCMORRIS: Ooh, I’m seeing the Northern Lights in New Zealand that day.

 

RYAN: You saw those last month!

 

DOCTOR MCMORRIS: I’m seeing them again!

 

RYAN: Fine, Friday, July 5th.

 

DOCTOR MCMORRIS: Ooh! I’m smoking Northern Lights with New Zealanders that day.

 

RYAN: Oh my God, fine, July 3rd.

 

DOCTOR MCMORRIS: Great, what time?

 

RYAN: 1pm is good.

 

(He writes it down)

 

DOCTOR MCMORRIS: Fantastic.

 

(They stand up and shake hands and Ryan leaves. Cut to Ryan at a pharmacy, speaking to a pharmacist)

 

RYAN: My Doctor, Doctor Hammond, (Ryan hands a prescription to the pharmacist and she looks at it) prescribed me this.

 

PHARMACIST: Okay. It’ll be about fifteen minutes.

 

RYAN: Not worth it.

 

(Ryan walks away. Cut to Ryan and Sarah walking through the Hansbay mall)

 

SARAH: Where should we go?

 

RYAN: The only place we ever go here is also the one place we can’t go.

 

SARAH: How do you know she’s even working right now?

 

RYAN: Because I know her work schedule.

 

SARAH: You obviously didn’t know yours!

 

RYAN: True.

 

(They walk by a perfume stand with an Arab man manning it)

 

ARAB MAN: (Arab accent) Excuse me, sirs and womens!

 

RYAN: Keep walking.

 

SARAH: Hold on! (Sarah walks over to the man while Ryan stops in his track and closes his eyes in angst. He then opens his eyes and walks over to the man) I love perfume. What do you have?

 

ARAB MAN: I have plenty of fragrances, (He holds up a glass, nondescript bottle of a clear liquid) berry cherry, (he holds up another glass, nondescript bottle of a clear liquid) hubba bubba, (and another) blueberry juice smell, (and another) new car smell, (and another) cinnamon slime, (and another) glass smell, (and another) fresh gasoline smell, (another) this one’s just water and of course our bestselling, (another one) fire hydrant paint!

 

RYAN: None of these perfume bottles have anything written on them, how can you tell them apart?

 

ARAB MAN: I would use smell if I didn’t lose my sense of smell in a car crash, are you interested in any of this, ma’am?

 

SARAH: I usually like bootleg Japanese perfumes, do you have anything in an anti-freeze?

 

ARAB MAN: Absolutely! All of these have a bit of that magic ingredient.

 

SARAH: Which has the most?

 

ARAB MAN: This, (He holds up one of nondescript bottles) the water one!

 

RYAN: You said that was just water.

 

ARAB MAN: It’s a 60-40 split.

 

SARAH: Spray some on me, please. (The Arab man sprays it on Sarah, but the Sarah’s facial expression indicates displeasure, as does Ryan’s) Ugh, this smells awful.

 

ARAB MAN: Yeah, sorry that might have been the gasoline one.

 

(Flashback to a sixteen year old Ryan in April 2012, waking up in the Iraqi interrogation room after he was kidnapped. He is tied back to back with Michelle. Confused, he takes a sniff. Cut back to Ryan at the mall. His eyes widen, his heart starts beating rapidly, he backs away and puts his hands on his head and turns the other way)

 

SARAH: Are you okay, Ryan?

 

RYAN: No! Oh my God, I’m freaking out! (Sarah goes over to Ryan and puts her hands on his shoulders and Ryan takes them off) Get off of me!

 

SARAH: Ryan, everything’s alright! Just calm down!

 

RYAN: I’m having trouble breathing! I think I have MERS-COV!

 

SARAH: Ryan, almost nobody has MERS-COV!

 

RYAN: I need water! Get me water!

 

SARAH: Okay! (Sarah turns to the Arab man) Do you have any-

 

RYAN: NO! Not from him!

 

ARAB MAN: Excuse me?

 

SARAH: Ryan!

 

RYAN: Shut up!

 

(Arab man picks up one of the nondescript bottles)

 

ARAB MAN: I can spray the water perfume into your mouth!

 

RYAN: You said that was forty percent anti-freeze!

 

ARAB MAN: Actually, this is the fire hydrant paint one.

 

(Cut to Brennan, Michelle and Coin in Michelle’s room)

 

BRENNAN: I still have the bullet in my chest from last May.

 

COIN: Holy shit, you have a bullet in your chest?

 

BRENNAN: Yeah, when I was shot by the cops.

 

MICHELLE: I told you that story, Coin.

 

COIN: I know, I just forgot it was this kid. So wait, you killed Jim Cornish, didn’t you?

 

MICHELLE: Coin.

 

BRENNAN: It’s okay, Michelle. Yeah, I did.

 

COIN: But, he was going to kill you, right? If you didn’t kill him first?

 

BRENNAN: Yeah. He was armed. But the Cornish family despises me, so that doesn’t help.

 

MICHELLE: Do you feel guilty?

 

BRENNAN: Of course, Michelle. I took a life. (Brennan raises up one of his hand) These hands!

 

MICHELLE: That’s just one hand.

 

(Brennan flips her off with the other hand)

 

BRENNAN: There’s the other one.

 

(Michelle and Coin laugh and Brennan smiles as he puts his hands down)

 

BRENNAN: I don’t know, I know I shouldn’t feel guilty since my action was justifiable, but…my father tried to book a cruise but he couldn’t because Jim Cornish’s father works at Royal Caribbean.

 

COIN: Ouch.

 

MICHELLE: That must’ve disturbed your father.

 

BRENNAN: He’s not my father. I was an orphan, my father and mother died in a car accident on July 22, 1995, a week after I was born.

 

MICHELLE: That’s right, I remember Ryan telling me that Norman’s your adoptive father.

 

BRENNAN: Well, it took ten years of friendship before I told Ryan.

 

COIN: Why so long?

 

BRENNAN: I don’t know, I’m open about everything else in my life. I suppose it’s because I never knew my parents, so it’s useless to even talk about them. Norman might as well be my father, I just wish he wasn’t.

 

COIN: Well, my father abused me. That’s why I carry a (She takes out a switchblade) knife everywhere I go.

 

BRENNAN: Just in case other abusive fathers attack you on the street?

 

COIN: Yes.

 

MICHELLE: I also carry a switchblade with me, but I don’t find excuse to take it out all the time like Coin does.(Brennan laughs) But anyway, it’ll certainly protect me in college.

 

BRENNAN: That’s right, you graduated. Where are you going?

 

MICHELLE: Where do you think? CCV Winooski, where all the other burnouts are going.

 

BRENNAN: I’m eyeing Harvard, personally. (They chuckle) I’ll visit you.

 

MICHELLE: And Ryan won’t, I guarantee you.

 

BRENNAN: Yeah. Well anyway, thanks for letting me whine to you guys.

 

COIN: Does Ryan really not bother you?

 

BRENNAN: Of course he does. But what am I supposed to do? (Turns to the camera and smiles deviously) Kill him?

 

(Zoom out to see Michelle and Coin looking at Brennan weird as he continues to look at the camera)

 

COIN: …No.

 

(Brennan turns back to them)

 

BRENNAN: Of course not.

 

COIN: But we should do something.

 

MICHELLE: Like what?

 

COIN: We should play a prank on Ryan.

 

BRENNAN: I don’t know, what you think he doesn’t like, he usually likes. And what you think he doesn’t like, he usually licks.

 

COIN: I’m not sure I understand.

 

BRENNAN: It took me two April Fool’s days to find out he had a spider fetish.

 

MICHELLE: Took me just one.

 

COIN: Ew.

 

MICHELLE: Regardless though, this could be fun. And it could distract Brennan from his guilt.

 

BRENNAN: Alright. What were you thinking?

 

COIN: Well…

 

(Cut to Mayor Sarandon in his office, reading something on his computer)

 

MAYOR SARANDON: Well, I guess the Voting Rights Act is just a finished chapter of our shameful past now. A time when we discriminated against the Jim Crow states just because of the color of their blackface and who they chose to loath. Good riddance.

 

(Ethan walks in)

 

ETHAN: Excuse me, sir.

 

MAYOR SARANDON: Would you like some champagne to celebrate the end of the Voting Rights Era?

 

ETHAN: Now, I would like hard liquor to make me forget about what I’m about to do.

 

MAYOR SARANDON: Fair enough. (Mayor Sarandon takes out a bottle of Wild Turkey and pours two glasses and hands one to Ethan, who drinks all of it in one gulp, to Mayor Sarandon’s amazement) Who died?

 

(Ethan sets the cup down)

 

ETHAN: My dignity. Sir, I would like to ask you to hire a family member of mine who has been going through a bit of a financial rough patch, for, I want to say, three decades.

 

MAYOR SARANDON: Who?

 

(Ethan sighs)

 

ETHAN: My brother, Paul Donahue. Something as simple as a receptionist, a paid intern, a janitor, whatever you deem fit. Please, Mr. Mayor, do me a solid, he’s hurting.

 

MAYOR SARANDON: …Are you guys close?

 

ETHAN: Not at all. We despise each other. But he got kicked out of my parent’s house and it would not behoove me to ignore that.

 

MAYOR SARANDON: Is he competent and responsible?

 

ETHAN: Are you?

 

MAYOR SARANDON: He’ll start Tuesday.

 

ETHAN: it is Tuesday.

 

MAYOR SARANDON: Then get him in here!

 

ETHAN: Thank you sir, so much. (Ethan shakes Mayor Sarandon’s hand and then the handshake ends and Ethan begins to walk out, but then turns back) Wait, you didn’t say what his position is.

 

MAYOR SARANDON: Oh. Um…pyrotechnics?

 

ETHAN: He would love that, but let’s have a real position.

 

MAYOR SARANDON: Okay, Treasury clerk.

 

ETHAN: …Excuse me?

 

MAYOR SARANDON: Sorry Ethan, that’s the only position available right now. Beggars can’t be losers.

 

ETHAN: Sir, he is VASTLY underqualified for-

 

MAYOR SARANDON: Then QUALIFY him!

 

(Ethan signs, shakes his head and leaves the office. Outside, Paul is waiting, wearing a suit two sizes too small)

 

PAUL: Did he say yes?

 

ETHAN: Yes, but I wouldn’t get too excited about it.

 

PAUL: Why not?

 

ETHAN: Because he gave you a job with ACTUAL responsibilities.

 

PAUL: Put me in, coach! I can handle it!

 

ETHAN: You’re going to be in the Hansbay Treasury department.

 

PAUL: Oh…shit.

 

ETHAN: Yeah. CONAN!

 

(Conan walks over)

 

CONAN: Yes, boss?

 

ETHAN: Conan, this is Paul Donahue, my brother. He is a new member of your department.

 

CONAN: Really?

 

ETHAN: Yes.

 

CONAN: He’s wearing his Sunday best from fifth grade.

 

PAUL: I don’t wear suits generally, they’re for the greedy fat cats that run the illuminati!

 

ETHAN: The Illuminati disbanded 128 years ago, Paul, and you’re one of the fat cats now, so get used to it. Conan, please train him.

 

CONAN: Should I start with property taxes?

 

ETHAN: Start with Times tables.

 

(Ethan walks into his office)

 

CONAN: Jesus. How old are you?

 

PAUL: I’m 54, but people say I look 58, which is pretty dope, actually.

 

CONAN: You know, when you become an adult, it’s actually not cool to look older than you are.

 

PAUL: Another thing my dad never taught me.

 

CONAN: Okay, let’s get started.

 

(Conan leads Paul over to the Treasury department’s desk area. Cut to Ryan drinking water at one of the food places at the food court with Sarah right beside him)

 

SARAH: Is that better, emo kid?

 

(Ryan finishes drinking his water)

 

RYAN: Yeah, it is.

 

(A mall cop on a Segway rolls on over)

 

MALL COP: Excuse me sir, I’m an X inspector.

 

RYAN: Like, you’re a former inspector?

 

MALL COP: No, I’m an ecstasy inspector.

 

RYAN: What?

 

MALL COP: I’m going to inspect you for ecstasy.

 

SARAH: There’s no way ecstasy inspector exists.

 

(The guy on the Segway turns around and point to the back of his shirt, which has “ECSTASY INSPECTOR” written on sharpie on the back)

 

MALL COP: Read the badge.

 

SARAH: That’s not a badge!

 

(The mall cop turns back towards them)

 

MALL COP: LET ME CHECK YOU FOR ECSTASY!

 

(Ryan starts hyperventilating and his face goes red)

 

RYAN: WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!

 

SARAH: I don’t know, but Ryan calm down, he can’t-

 

RYAN: Ah!

 

(Ryan runs away)

 

SARAH: Ryan!

 

MALL COP: Damnit, I lost him.

 

SARAH: What the hell is wrong with you?!

 

MALL COP: I don’t know, some kids paid me to do this.

 

SARAH: Kids?

 

(Cut to Ryan running into Hot Topic. Dean is manning the counter)

 

RYAN: Where’s Michelle?!
 

DEAN: She’s not working right now. I’m in charge h’uch.

 

RYAN: Goddamnit.

 

DEAN: You don’t even work here anymore and she’s your ex-girlfriend!

 

RYAN: But she comforts me…

 

SARAH’S VOICE: Does she?

 

(They pan over to Sarah standing there)

 

RYAN: Jesus, how did you get here so fast?

 

SARAH: That mall cop let me borrow his Segway.

 

RYAN: Sarah, I didn’t mean-

 

SARAH: What did you mean? You couldn’t have meant Michelle comforts you and I don’t!

 

RYAN: No, you do, but she just-

 

SARAH: Comforts you more.

 

RYAN: Stop interrupting me! She comforts me in a different way, and-

 

SARAH: By having sex with your dick?!

 

RYAN: Trust me, that’s not what’s happening!

 

SARAH: Why would I trust you? Remember how your last relationship ended?

 

RYAN: Oh my God, you were a willing participant in that!

 

SARAH: …Fair point. Regardless, guess what your good friend Michelle did, along with Coin and Brennan?

 

RYAN: What?

 

(Michelle, Coin and Brennan come in)

 

MICHELLE: Um, we pranked you with the ecstasy inspector thing. We paid that guy to do that.

 

RYAN: What the…hell?

 

BRENNAN: It was retribution!

 

SARAH: He has anxiety problems!

 

BRENNAN: You have anxiety problems?! I’m a murderer!

 

MICHELLE: Brennan, no you’re not.

 

BRENNAN: Yes I am! Someone should tattoo a black tear drop under my eye! Or maybe I’ll just cry black tear drops!

 

COIN: Everybody just calm down, listen Ryan, this was all in harmless fun, we didn’t know you were going through a rough time.

 

SARAH: But if you are going through a rough time, feel free to go sink your face into Michelle’s tits again!
 

MICHELLE: Jesus Christ Sarah, we’re trying to comfort him-

 

SARAH: He came here for you!

 

RYAN: SHUT UP!
 

(Ryan kicks over a shelf full of shirts, which then falls onto another shelf, causing the shelf to tip over tear a bunch of shirts off of a wall, leaving everyone in the store stunned, including Ryan)

 

MICHELLE: …Jesus.

 

RYAN: …Um…I apologize, for that. I will pay for it. How much?

 

MICHELLE: I have NO idea, Ryan! I haven’t appraised how much the shelves cost or how much all the shirts on the wall cost, for now, can you just help me clean this up?

 

RYAN: Of course.

 

(Ryan and Michelle begin to both stand the shelf back up. Cut to Brennan walking into his house to see Norman and Jeff in vacation clothes, like cargo shorts, sandals, floppy hats and sunglasses and suit cases)

 

BRENNAN: What’s going on?

 

NORMAN: I appealed to Royal Caribbean, they fired Matthew Cornish and now we’ve gotten a reduced price cruise!

 

(Brennan looks up and raises his fists)

 

BRENNAN: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!

 

(Brennan then points his face downward)

 

NORMAN: Um, are you excited?

 

(Brennan looks back up)

 

BRENNAN: No, not particularly. When are we going?

 

NORMAN: A week.

 

BRENNAN: …Okay, then why are you dressed for a vacation right now?

 

(Norman takes off his sun glasses)

 

NORMAN: Um…

 

(Cut to Ethan sitting in his office, looking nervous while tapping his foot and chewing on one of his nails. There is a knocking at his door)

 

ETHAN: WHAT?

 

CONAN’S VOICE: It’s Conan!

 

ETHAN: Go away!

 

CONAN: Ethan, let me in!
 

ETHAN: Goddamnit, fine!

 

(Conan comes in and shuts the door)

 

CONAN: You have to go out there and give your brother some pointers!

 

ETHAN: That’s your job, not mine. I don’t micromanage.

 

CONAN: You’re the CAO! Your only job is to micromanage the departments of city government so Sarandon doesn’t have to!

 

ETHAN: What is he doing?

 

CONAN: You should what he’s doing out there!

 

ETHAN: Don’t show me, tell me!

 

CONAN: He asked me if I knew meth dealers in the area.

 

ETHAN: Too much Breaking Bad.

 

CONAN: I don’t think that’s it. He also referring to every person on the phone as Peter, because that was the name of the first person he called, he said it makes him “feel more comfortable talking to people if they all have the same name”.

 

ETHAN: He called me Allison for ten years, they can deal with it.

 

CONAN: Ethan, you can’t let this catastrophe go on unfettered! If you want to help your brother, do something! Or Sarandon will fire him!

 

ETHAN: Good! Do you think I want to do this?! Paul is beyond hope. If he gets fired, he’ll pity plea to live with my parents again and everything will be copasetic. Now go out there and contain the blaze.

 

(Conan stares for a second, but then sighs)

 

CONAN: Fine. (Conan opens the door. Cut to outside the door, as it’s happening it shows that Paul was listening in, so as it’s opening he quickly runs back to his desk) We’ll start again soon Paul, I’ll be right back.

 

(Conan walks away and Paul looks down and taps his fingers, looking ashamed. Cut to Ryan in Doctor Hammond’s office on the exam table)

 

RYAN: Doctor Hammond, this Seroquel shit and this Prozac shit isn’t working for shit! What the fuck do I have to do finally get better?!

 

DOCTOR HAMMOND: Have you begun a vigorous exercise regimen like I told you?

 

RYAN: …Pardon?

 

DOCTOR HAMMOND: I told you to begin an exercise of regimen of at least an hour a day of-(Cut to Ryan’s point of view, showing Doctor Hammond’s mouth moving but a different voice talking) TAKE THIS PILL AND EVERYTHING WILL GET BETTER! YOU JUST HAVE TO WAIT! WAITING IS BELIEVING, RYAN! BY THE WAY, YOUR BAND IS SO AWESOME! ALSO, YOUR GIRLFRIEND SARAH IS HOT AS HELL! I’D FUCK HER!

 

RYAN: Fuck off, don’t touch my girlfriend.

 

DOCTOR HAMMOND: (Normal, real voice) Excuse me?

 

RYAN: Sorry, I mean, thank you Doctor, for the sound advice.

 

DOCTOR HAMMOND: You’re welcome. On you go.

 

(Ryan shakes hands with Doctor Hammond and walks out of the room. Fade to black)

 

THE END


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