The Donahues Episode 109

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
In three separate flashbacks to 1994, 2010 and 2001, a 15-year old Rob goes to Boarding School as he recovers from the shock over the death of Kurt Cobain, a 14-year old Ryan is inspired to become an emo when he meets Sarah and Mayor Sarandon instills strict anti-Islamic police policies in the aftermath of 9-11

Submitted: July 23, 2013

A A A | A A A

Submitted: July 23, 2013









“I’d rather be hated for who I am, than loved for who I am not”

-Kurt Cobain


(We start in April 1994. A 15-year old Rob Altmire is laying on his bed in his room. His room is plastered with Nirvana posters, posters from “In Utero”, “Never mind”, except in the Never mind poster where the baby is swimming after a dollar on a string, the baby’s head is replaced with a picture of 15-year old Rob’s head, smiling. Rob is listening to “Lithium” by Nirvana on a CD player. Someone knocks on the door)






(Rob sighs, presses the pause button on the CD player and opens the door to see a 54-year old Joseph Altmire)


ROB: What is it, step dad?


JOE: Just call me dad, calling me step dad sounds so unnatural.


ROB: And why would I care?


JOE: Goddamnit, Rob. You are turning sixteen in just over two weeks, it’s time you start acting more mature. And that means not disrespecting me, your mother and your education. Your grades are dismal and FAR under the expectations of an Altmire.


ROB: I guess if I got divorced after going crazy from war, I would reach the expectations set for an Altmire.


(Joe slaps Rob)


JOE: HEY! I got back together with your mother because we love each other! And maybe if you were old enough to go to Iraq three years ago you would have learned DISCIPLINE!


ROB: You hated Vietnam, you were against the war when you left.


JOE: Yes, but it taught me leadership skills! You think Kurt Cobain’s going to do that for you?


ROB: Kurt Cobain understands me! Unlike some people I could name!


JOE: You met him ONCE! You’re obsessed, Rob.


ROB: We’re friends! He said he would call me! He’s just really busy, being stuck in Courtney Love’s heart-shaped box and all.


JOE: ROB! You’re going to be a in a heart-shaped COFFIN if you don’t ace that test tomorrow!


ROB: Interesting fact, originally Kurt was going to name that song “Heart-Shaped Coffin”.


JOE: That’s not an interesting fact. That’s not even a fun fact. You know what is? Pico De Guillo sailed the ocean blue in 1792 and discovered Spain, that fact is fun as fuck and you need to use it to annihilate your test!

ROB: Well, you couldn’t pass the test because that was completely wrong!


JOE: It’s not my job to pass the test! Now how have you been studying?


ROB: I’ve been practicing my kick-ass signature. (He holds up a paper covered in cursive signatures, print signatures and bold signatures, but they all say “Kick-ass”) I’m thinking maybe I should have a little stick figure leaning on the end part of my signature, I don’t know.


JOE: I do! Don’t! And sign your real name!


ROB: Kurt sometimes signs his name as “Kurdt Kobain” with a K.




(Joe walks away. Rob slams the door and then jumps on the bed and turns Nirvana back on. Cut to the next day in class. Rob is sitting in a seat, ready to take the test. Clayton is sitting right next to him)


CLAYTON: Are you ready to take this test?


ROB: I studied while watching Full House, so I think I’m either prepared to take this hisotry test or to name what Jesse Katsopolis’ name in the first season was originally.


CLAYTON: …Alright.


(A male teacher walks in carrying papers. He writes “April 8, 1994” on the board, along with “Mr. Caveney”. He then turns around)


MR. CAVENEY: Um, kids, before we take this test, I have some news that might upset you guys. It was just reported that Kurt Cobain was found dead in his home this morning.


(Everybody gasps)




MR. CAVENEY: He was twenty-seven.


(Rob slams his fists on the desk)




MR. CAVENEY: Rob, calm down, he shot himself.


(Tears stream from Rob’s eyes)




(Rob runs out of the room. Cut to Rob being dropped off by a bus at his house. He lethargically strolls to his front door with his backpack in tow and opens the door to his house. He puts his back pack down and listlessly saunters into the living room to see Joe and a 52-year old Kay watching an old Albert White deliver the news. A graphic box adjacent to him shows a picture of Cobain and the words “KURT COBAIN, 1967-1994”)


ALBERT WHITE: Kurt Cobain, the self-proclaimed spokesman for Generation X, even though we proclaimed him that, has died. He was found in his Seattle home, apparently dead for three days of a self-inflicted gunshot wound. His style of music called “grunge” apparently revolutionized the music industry for the nineties, and he made his guitar and voice do some of the most unusual sounds you would ever hear in your ear hole Very unusual lyrics, unusual all around. Unusual. Here's one lyric. "The sun is gone, but I have a light. The day is done, but I'm having fun." Here's another lyric, YEAH, YEAAAAAHH YEAAAAAAAH! YEAH YEAH YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" Cobain was 27 and is survived by his wife, Courtney Love Cobain, who should not be suspected of anything. We’ll be right back.


ROB: This is fucking shameful.


JOE: What do you mean?


ROB: These old-ass newsmen don’t know shit about Kurt, but they talk about him like he’s the first person to die at 27!


KAY: I remember when Jimi Hendrix died, about twenty-four years ago. He was 27.


ROB: And he was a great man.


JOE: He was a baby boomer though-


ROB: But he never grew up! So therefore he never became an asshole! He killed himself before he could reach the poisonous age of thirty.


JOE: He didn’t kill himself, he took too many sleeping pills and asphyxiated on his own vomit.


ROB: Kurt seemed to be convinced that he killed himself.


(The home phone rings)


JOE: I’ll get it. (Joe gets up and picks up the phone) Hello?


26-YEAR OLD KIMBERLY: (On the phone) Hey, is Rob there?


JOE: Yeah, he’s crestfallen because despite his claims, Kurt Cobain DID have a gun.


KIMBERLY: Wow, please just hand the phone to Rob.


JOE: Here.


(Joe hands the phone to Rob and then walks back to the couch)


ROB: Hello?


KIMBERLY: Hey, little brother. It’s Kim.


ROB: Hey Kimmy.


KIMBERLY: I’m really sorry about Kurt.


ROB: Oh, Kimberly. It’s a fucking shame. I did not see this coming.


KIMBERLY: He made videos of himself pretending to slit his wrists when he was a kid, he once contemplated jumping off of his roof when he was a preteen-


ROB: And now out of the blue, he sticks a shotgun in his mouth and pulls the trigger, the one way of killing himself he never discussed. Why didn’t he confide in me that he was suicidal?


KIMBERLY: You met him once, you guys weren’t exactly best friends.


ROB: Oh, you think Dave Grohl is a great confidant? He’ll probably move on to some other band and I bet you a bucket of syringes he will NOT include Kurt.


KIMBERLY: I’ll accept that bet. Or, I would, if I wanted a bucket of syringes. Listen Rob, I’m sorry about Kurt. I love Nirvana too. But now, Kurt and Nirvana itself will be martyred in perpetuity.


ROB: …I don’t know what that means.


KIMBERLY: Sorry, that was some snob leftover from my college days, Kurt Cobain will be forever 27 in people’s minds and people will worship him, not as a trend, but as a friend, as an-






ROB: Sorry, dad told me to shut up.


KIMBERLY: Yeah, and Kurt’s ghost told me to shut up as well.


(Rob and Kimberly laugh. Cut to January 19, 2010. A 14-year old Ryan is sitting in an English class, except he does not look emo in any way, he is wearing a plaid shirt with rolled up sleeves, non-skinny Hurley Jeans and his hair is shorter and not straightened. Behind him sits a 14-year old Sarah, who is wearing a black skirt and a band t-shirt and does look emo. At the front of the class is a young teacher with short hair named “Mr. Lynch”)


MR. LYNCH: Alright, class. It’s eighth grade and you know what that means-Romeo and Juliet.


(A 14-year old Logan DeMint sneers)


LOGAN: More like “Homeo and JuliAN!”


MR. LYNCH: No, that’s ninth grade.


SARAH: Really?


MR. LYNCH: It’s a liberal state, we have to show both sides of the sexual spectrum.


RYAN: Well, I think that’s disgusting… (Pan over to an emo kid sitting near Ryan. He has straightened brown hair, a band shirt and skinny jeans) did you hear that, Joel?


JOEL: Yes, I heard it.


RYAN: I said it was disgusting!


JOEL: Holy shit, you’re overcompensating.


MR. LYNCH: Regardless, you guys need to get into groups of three for a group project. Remember, no more than two members of one clique to a group!


(Sarah and Joel look at each other and nod, then Ryan turns around)


RYAN: And me too?




SARAH: Totally! We have a super group now.


JOEL: Okay.


SARAH: We’re going to work on the group project sometime this week, after school.


JOEL: Do we know what the group project is?


MR. LYNCH: No, you don’t! (They turn to him) But I just explained it in a whispering voice, so you missed it.


LOGAN: I didn’t hear it either.


STUDENT: I don’t think any of us did.


MR. LYNCH: Fine! I’ll say it real loud this time. The project is you’re going to go to and click on the link and there you’re going to start a presentation using an app you download from! You make the presentation about the characters, time period, locations, fun facts, most frequently used vowels and central themes of Romeo and Juliet, but you have to meet up after school in order to achieve this end. Because there’s a whole tangle of goddamn educational websites that you’ll have to pour through. But you guys will do fine. Who’s excited?




MR. LYNCH: Ryan’s excited! Even though he’ll have to spend a night with the emotional crowd.


SARAH: It doesn’t stand for emotional.


MR. LYNCH: Sure it does. Have fun at each other’s houses! Plan and scheme or whatever now.


(Mr. Lynch goes and sits down as Sarah, Joel and Ryan talk)


JOEL: Okay, so, who’s house?


RYAN: My dad isn’t really ready to host your kind yet, it’s sort of a “guess who’s coming to dinner” sort of situation.


SARAH: My mom is insane and hates when I hang out with boys. She thinks dudes can rape with their eyes.


RYAN: She’s not wrong.


JOEL: And I was kicked out of my house, so it’s going to have to be one of your guys’ houses.


SARAH: …Fuck, fine.


(Cut to Ryan, Sarah and Joel sitting in the back of Amy’s car while a 40-year old Amy Blumenthal drives them)


AMY: You guys must be working on a fun project for all of you to be doing it together!

SARAH: No, mom, we’re working on a boring project and we’re doing it together to make it fun, Jesus…sorry, she doesn’t get things sometimes.


RYAN: That’s okay.


JOEL: I forgive her.


SARAH: I don’t. Mom, why are you taking this road?


AMY: Oooohhhh! It’s faster, cheaper!


SARAH: It’s the same price as every other road! This road is not faster, though.


AMY: It’s easier though, the other road has scary twists, turns and hullabaloo that I just cannot deal with today.


(Joel takes out his iPod)


JOEL: Do you want to listen to my iPod so we don’t have to listen to this?




JOEL: …Fine.


(Joel listens to his iPod)


SARAH: Mom, a yield sign is not a stop light!


AMY: Where I’m from it is!


(Cut to Ryan, Joel, Sarah and Amy walking into Sarah’s house)


JOEL: So this is the place, huh?


AMY: Yep! And we have all sorts of juices and fruit snacks in the kitchen for you to sink your little teeths into!


SARAH: I have energy drinks in the fridge.


JOEL: Thank God!


RYAN: Awesome.


(Joel and Ryan go to the fridge and grab Monsters)


AMY: Okay, well…don’t touch her or anything.


JOEL: Excuse me?


AMY: I mean, just…have fun! Have fun without touching her.


SARAH: Mom, just go.


AMY: I’ll be in the other room then.


(Amy walks into an adjoining room)


SARAH: Sorry about her.


RYAN: Did anyone get the video?


JOEL: I did! (Joel takes out a video tape) A snuff film of hogs tearing up an orphaned duckling.


RYAN: Jesus, I meant the Romeo and Juliet video.


JOEL: …So did I.


SARAH: Then what is that?


JOEL: It’s the duckling thing, but you should watch it, it goes great with music!


SARAH: Everything does. Let’s sit down. (They all go into Sarah’s living room and sit down and Ryan and Joel open their Monsters) Let me turn on some music. Who likes Devil’s Niece?


JOEL: I do!


RYAN: I love Devil’s Niece! I just started getting into them recently, they’re really good.


SARAH: Really? You don’t seem like the type.


RYAN: I’m really not, a month ago my most listened to song on my iPod was “Whatcha Say” by Jason Derulo, but I just heard “Suffering in Solace” somewhere on a train and I had to have it.


SARAH: Cool, let me turn it on.


(Sarah takes a remote and turns on “Suffering in Solace” on her iHome)


JOEL: This song is so good, my brother is in Blood on the Bar Scene.


SARAH: Really?!


JOEL: Yeah.


SARAH: Holy shit, you have to get them to sign my poster!


JOEL: I will arrange that.


RYAN: You have to get them to sign my “Devil’s Niece” album.


JOEL: I feel like they would take offense to that.


(Cut to September 2001. A 35-year old Ethan is sitting at his desk at Mayor Sarandon’s office, typing on a very old, white and bulky Gateway computer. Suddenly, he gets a phone call on his work phone and picks up)


ETHAN: Hello?


KIMBERLY: (On the phone) Are you seeing this?


ETHAN: Seeing what?


KIMBERLY: Turn on the TV!


(Ethan gets up and turns on the office television as a bunch of people gather around and a 40-year old Mayor Sarandon walks out of his office. The TV is not shown, but they are shown looking at it)


ETHAN: What the hell?


MAYOR SARANDON: What happened?!


CONAN: That cannot be an accident.


ETHAN: But who would do this?!


(Cut to a six-year old Ryan sitting in a kindergarten class with a Kindergarten teacher, clearly shaken, walking in)


KINDERGARTEN TEACHER: Kids, there’s been a horrible, horrible event in New York City.


RYAN: What was it?


KINDERGARTEN TEACHER: It doesn’t matter, but we’ve made the decision to release everybody from school today. (All the kids cheer) No, kids! It’s not-don’t cheer! Something awful has happened!


(Cut to Ethan walking into his house to see Kimberly crying while watching TV. He rushes over to her and hugs her while she cries on his shoulder)


KIMBERLY: Who would do this?!


ETHAN: I don’t know…but I think we’re at war…with something.


(Ryan, a seven-year old Jacob and an eight-year old Madeline run in with backpacks on)


JACOB: Dad, what happened in New York today?


(Ethan walks over to them and Kimberly follows. They both get down on their knees)


ETHAN: Um…some really bad people hijacked two planes and crashed them into buildings in New York City.


KIMBERLY: A lot of people are dead.


MADELINE: Why did they do it?


ETHAN: We don’t know, we don’t even know who they are yet. Or, were, rather.


RYAN: Are they coming for us next?


KIMBERLY: No, of course not honey-


ETHAN: Maybe.




ETHAN: Sorry, I mean, we’ll be fine. Okay. We love you guys.


(They all join in a group hug. Cut to a week later, September 18, 2001. Mayor Sarandon, Ethan and the rest of Sarandon’s staff are in a conference room meeting)


MAYOR SARANDON: Thank you all for coming to this all-hands meeting. The events of a week ago are still freshly engrained in our memories. The images of the planes hitting, the towers collapsing, the plane crash in Shanksville and at the Pentagon, all of America seems to be at a standstill following these attacks. Monuments and government buildings around the country are closed and blockaded and there’s a hole in New York City and a hole in America’s very heart. And the best thing we can do to pay tribute to the memories of the 3,000 people who perished last week is to approach reform of our town’s security policy with rationality and ardent level-headedness. And that is why we need to do something about the Muslims.


CONAN: I absolutely agree-wait, what?


MAYOR SARANDON: We need to do something about the Muslims-and fast! They are a threat to our very way of life.


CONAN: How is that rational or ardently level-headed?


ETHAN: I don’t think addressing the Muslim issues are off-limits, I mean, they were Muslim terrorists!


CONAN: Right, but they were products of radical Islam.


MAYOR SARANDON: Radical Islam! Okay, we need to find a way to single out the Muslims that are radicalized, maybe something like, if they’re a Muslim and they’re drinking Mountain Dew, we sic the dogs on them?


ETHAN: I was thinking more like we bring the Muslim issues in for questioning and as long as everything if dandy with their background, intentions and facial hair, we let them free!


CONAN: Why do you keep calling them issues?


ETHAN: Because they’re a problem! They are Issue-Americans.


CONAN: I don’t think you guys are realizing what you’re saying, you’re saying we should profile them for the color of their skin?


MAYOR SARANDON: Of course not! I don’t care if they’re white, black or lady, as long as they are a Muslim!


ETHAN: Exactly! If it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck!


CONAN: Right, but terrorists aren’t a species that all like alike.


ETHAN: Yes they are! They’re called MUSLIMS!


MAYOR SARANDON: Like, what do you not get?!


(Cut to Kimberly sitting in a coffee shop when a barista comes over to her)


BARISTA: Hello ma’am, what can I get for you?


KIMBERLY: Could I get a coffee with extra sugar and cream?


BARISTA: We don’t have sugar or cream, they resemble anthrax far too much.


KIMBERLY: …Really?




KIMBERLY: Alright, just regular black coffee then, I guess.


BARISTA: We don’t have coffee either, actually, we sell exclusively gas masks and duct tape.


KIMBERLY: Alright, I’m leaving.


BARISTA: Thanks for choosing Coffee Ville!


(Kimberly takes her purse and leaves the establishment and sees a Muslim girl wearing a burqa, who is on the phone)


MUSLIM GIRL: Yeah, I wanted to buy-wow, why would you assume that? Hold on, I have to call you back. (She hangs up) Kimberly!


KIMBERLY: …Do I know you?


MUSLIM GIRL: It’s Qismah, remember? From College?


KIMBERLY: Oh my God, Qismah! (They hug and then un-hug) It’s so nice to see you!


QISMAH: I know! Remember how much of a slut I was in college?


KIMBERLY: Not really!


QISMAH: I let that one guy put his tongue in between my slit and lick my eye lids?


KIMBERLY: I’m not sure how slutty that was, I think it was just weird.


QISMAH: It was definitely not okay by Allah, though.


KIMBERLY: Speaking of which, how are you holding up since…you know?


QISMAH: The divorce? Allah Akbar, not well.


KIMBERLY: No, the-you got married?


QISMAH: And divorced! It wasn’t my decision. I’m not really at liberty to make such decisions.


KIMBERLY: Sorry to hear that. But I’m talking about since 9/11.


QISMAH: Oh Muhammad, it’s been awful. All these people dying like that. I’ve been spat upon. Called names, there are restaurants that won’t serve me.


KIMBERLY: God, I’m so sorry.


(Qismah tears up)


QISMAH: This is America, I can practice whatever religion I choose, and I had nothing to do with that horrible attack.


KIMBERLY: People can be irrational.


QISMAH: Oh, is that so?


KIMBERLY: Yeah, I hope that’s comforting.


(Kimberly and Qismah chuckle)


QISMAH: Do you want to get coffee or something?


KIMBERLY: This place is more of a terror bunker now, let’s walk down to Einstein’s Bagels-I mean, Hooters. I mean…Twin Peaks. Shit. That’s bad on two levels.


QISMAH: Let’s see where we end up.


KIMBERLY: Alright.


(They both walk down the street together. Cut back to 1994, Rob is sitting at the dinner table being lectured by Joe while Kay stands behind him on the verge of tears)




ROB: Because Kurt Cobain had just died, I couldn’t concentrate, dad!


JOE: COULDN’T CONCENTRATE?! Or didn’t study and decided Cobain’s death would be a nice excuse?!


ROB: Neither! I just, you know, blah! Every question just reminded me of Kurt, Christopher Columbus’ arrival in the New World reminded me of “Rape Me” and Kennedy was interred in a Marilyn-shaped box and the British put a tax on Pennyroyal Tea and the Civil War was done, but the south was having fun and we thought President Grant was dumb, or maybe just happy.




KAY: You’re a disgrace to the family!  (She keeps crying and she holds up a vase full of flowers) Eleven percent of this water is my tears!


JOE: Look at what you did to your mother?!


ROB: …Are you asking me what I did-


JOE: LOOK AT IT! You are slacking off, jacking off and smacking off, just like Kurt Cobain was!


ROB: Ew.


JOE: The only way to straighten you up now is to send you to boot camp!


ROB: Boot camp? That seems extreme.


JOE: OH it is. But it will teach you discipline.


ROB: Won’t I get beaten with bags full of soap?


JOE: Hopefully! That’ll teach you how often you’ll be beaten with bags of soap in the real world.


ROB: I’ll be beaten with bags of soap in the real world?


JOE: How do you think real men shower?


ROB: You beat yourself with a bag of soap?


JOE: No, somebody else…does.


ROB: Ew.


JOE: Shut up! You don’t get to ask questions anymore! Boot camp or…no, that’s your only choice.


ROB: I’m fifteen years old, can I even go to boot camp?


KAY: I hate to interrupt this disciplinarian’s wet dream, but Rob is right, he’s not old enough.


JOE: Fine. Boarding school it is. You’ll have to wear…sweaters with…logos on them! Ahh!


ROB: I’m trembling in my- (Pan down to show Rob’s converse shoes) Kurt Cobain-inspired Converse shoes, DAD!


JOE: You should be.


(Cut to Rob walking into Buxton School in Williamstown, Massachusetts wearing a sweater bearing its logo and surrounded by people he doesn’t know. He looks nervous. He looks around and sees a sign reading “Bathrooms” and then looks at another sign reading “Classrooms A-Ab”)


ROB: Jesus, that’s a long hallway for such a limited alphabetical category. (He takes out his schedule) I’m supposed to be in Mrs. Zesserman’s class.


(A kid with longer, dirty blonde hair, a little older than Rob, walks over to him)


DIRTY BLONDE: Bro, you got a ways to go. Luckily, I’m in the same class.


ROB: Really? Well, great. So is there an elevator, or-


DIRTY BLONDE: No elevators. They know that the students relish any opportunity to finger each other so there’s really no confined spaces.


ROB: So what, do we just take the stairs?


DIRTY BLONDE: That’s it, compadre. I’m Brett, by the way.


ROB: Cool, I’m Rob, with two Bs, though.


BRETT: Has your name always been spelled like that?


ROB: Nah, I just figured I’d change it up. I’m sort of, half-heartedly reinventing myself now that I’m here.


BRETT: Alright, Rob-ba-buh.


ROB: Yeah, you’re right, just one b.


BRETT: Let’s find our class.


(They walk away. Cut to them walking down hallways)


ROB: Jesus, those stairs were a bitch.


BRETT: Don’t curse in here, they’re real touchy about that.


ROB: How do you know? Isn’t this your first day?


BRETT: I’ve been in and out of boarding schools all over New England, I always end up getting kicked out, though.


ROB: Why?


BRETT: Because I throw down the goblet and refuse to take their bullshit.


ROB: Isn’t it throw down the gauntlet?


BRETT: What? I don’t think so.


ROB: But a gauntlet is like a glove, so you throw them down when you get angry, a goblet, that’s like, something you throw down when you’re pissed at a dragon or something-


BRETT: Found the class!

(Rob and Brett enter a class. Cut to them sitting in the classroom while the teacher, a mustached man in his forties, speaks)


TEACHER: My name is Mister Sarbanes. Today we will be learning about history. American History. But we’re going to learn it in reverse. Let’s start with Reagan. Reagan was sixty-nine when he ran for President, but he was like, “I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care, care, care if I’m old. I don’t mind, I don’t mind, I don’t mind, I don’t mind, mind, I don’t have a mind.”


(Cut to November 12, 1993, Rob and Clayton are in a concert crowd at the George Wallace Civic Center in Springfield, Massachusetts while Nirvana is on stage, playing “Breed”)


KURT COBAIN: (Singing) I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care, care, care if it’s old! I don’t mind, I don’t mind, I don’t mind, mind, I don’t have a mind! Get away, get away, get away, get away, way, away from your home! I’m afraid, I’m afraid, I’m afraid, I’m afraid, afraid, afraid of a ghost! Even if you have! Even if you need! I don’t mean to stare! We don’t have to breed! We could plant a house! We could build a tree! I don’t even care! We can have all three! She said! She said! She said!


(Cut to Rob and Clayton talking to a security guard, attempting to get back stage. They are wearing suit jackets and false mustaches)


ROB: Hey, we’d uh…like to talk to the band. Kurt and everyone.


SECURITY GUARD: And who are you, exactly?


CLAYTON: We’re talent execs.


ROB: Yes, and we’re looking for that post-Grunge Seattle sound that will make the seasonally depressed girls wet and our personal coffers dry with money.


CLAYTON: We’re figured, who best to lead the post-grunge generation than the progenitors of grunge themselves?


(The security guard stares at them for a second and then laughs)


SECURITY GUARD: Nice try, kids. Hold on, though. (The security guard walks back stage, over to 26-year old Kurt Cobain, 26-year old Krist Novoselic and a 24-year old Dave Grohl, who are all sitting around on couches. Kurt has a guitar on his back) Hey, there’s some fifteen year olds kids pretending to be talent execs here to see you. They have a pretty hilarious bold-faced lie, though.


KURT: Hey, when I was growing up in Aberdeen, I lied to get backstage at Pearl Jam concerts, so-


DAVE: Kurt, Pearl Jam wasn’t around when you were growing up.


KRIST: Why do you lie about weird things?


KURT: There WAS a WAL-MART in Aberdeen when I was growing up, man, I swear to God.


SECURITY GUARD: Should I tell them to fuck off and watch Rocko’s Modern Life?


KURT: I fucking love that show. But yeah, tell them to fuck off.


KRIST: Wait, what was there story?


SECURITY GUARD: They claim to be talent execs looking for a post-Grunge sound that will make the “seasonally depressed chicks wet and their coffers dry with money”.


(They all laugh)


DAVE: That’s hilarious.


KURT: Yeah, bring them back. I want to talk to these kids.


SECURITY GUARD: If you say so.


(The security guard walks out of the room)


KURT: I lived under that bridge, Dave.


DAVE: Alright, Kurt.


(Cut to Ryan, Joel and Sarah watching the “Romeo and Juliet” video on Sarah’s TV. It depicts Abraham, Sampson and Gregory arguing in the streets of Verona. Ryan and Joel are sitting on the couch while Sarah is laying on her stomach on the floor right in front of them, watching with her head up)


ABRAHAM: Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?


SAMPSON: I do bite my thumb, sir.


ABRAHAM: Do you bite your thumb at us, sir?


SAMPSON: (Whispering to Gregory) Is the law of our side if I say ay?


JOEL: He already said “ay”!




SAMPSON: No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, but I do bite my thumb, sir.


GREGORY: Do you quarrel, sir?


ABRAHAM: Quarrel sir! No sir.


SARAH: I can never tell if they’re talking about fighting or making archaic references to blowjobs.


(Ryan chuckles)


RYAN: Yeah.


(Amy walks in with a blanket and throws it on Sarah’s back)


SARAH: Hey! Mom!


AMY: What? You’re cold!


SARAH: We have the heat on full blast, it’s the middle of January!


AMY: You’re cold, Sarah!

SARAH: Mom, they’re not looking!




(Amy walks out of the room)


SARAH: Oh my God, sorry about her.


JOEL: That’s okay.


RYAN: That’s more than okay.


JOEL: Jesus, Ryan.


(Amy walks in with a fire blanket and throws it on Sarah)




AMY: You were on fire, honey! I saved you!


SARAH: Since when do we even have a fire blanket?!


(Cut to Ryan, Sarah and Joel sitting at Sarah’s kitchen table around her laptop, which is covered in anime stickers)


JOEL: Alright, we have to figure this out.


RYAN: What is a Prezzy?


JOEL: I have no idea, but apparently we have to make one, so...


RYAN: C’mon, we’re, two intelligent people here, we can figure this out.


JOEL: Hey!


(Sarah laughs)


SARAH: Nice.


JOEL: Hey, your stickers are from “You Just Don’t Get it, Do You”, aren’t they?


SARAH: YES! Oh my God, isn’t that show great?!

JOEL: Yeah, it’s so awesome! Isn’t Staniel the best?!


SARAH: YES! He’s so hot, I wish I could be in him.


JOEL: He’s like eleven, though.


SARAH: I thought he was…like, forty.


JOEL: I can’t really tell age in anime, like, unless they’re wearing a school girl’s skirt.


SARAH: And he’s too much of a manly space ship captain for that!


JOEL: Come to think of it, I can’t even figure out his gender!


(They both laugh)


SARAH: I don’t care! He or she or it is hot!


(They both laugh even more and Ryan smiles. He also looks down. The laughing subsides eventually)


RYAN: I like, um…The Office.


(Amy walks over)


AMY: What kind of inappropriate stuff are you looking at over here, crazy kids?


SARAH: Nothing.


(Amy looks at the computer screen)


AMY: Ooh! A Prezzy, huh? Is that like, a PG-13 chat room?


SARAH: It’s for school, mom.


AMY: Then why is it blank?


JOEL: We’re going to add stuff in the next couple hours.


(The camera zooms in on an analog clock on the wall, which starts moving very quickly as if to indicate the passage of time. Eventually the camera zooms out to reveal Ryan, Sarah, Joel and Amy staring at the clock as it continues to go really fast)


RYAN: What the fuck is wrong with your clock?


(Cut to much later that night, Ryan, Joel and Sarah are sitting around in Sarah’s living room. Sarah and Joel are sitting close to each other while Ryan is sitting still close, but further away from Sarah)


SARAH: Shit, we never really added stuff, did we?


RYAN: No, we mostly just fueled- (holds up his energy drink) our future heart attacks and talking about what member of the same sex we would fuck if we had to.


JOEL: Totally Scott Brown.


SARAH: Who’s that?


JOEL: I don’t know, I saw him on the news today, I think he won something. Like, Massachusetts’ only unembellished dick size award for 2010.


RYAN: He won Ted Kennedy’s old Senate seat.


JOEL: Whatever. What guy would you fuck?


RYAN: I refuse to play this game! I’m not gay! I’m straighter than Frank Ocean!


JOEL: So repressed.


(Cut to Kimberly and Qismah sitting at the outdoor of a coffee shop, talking)


KIMBERLY: Wow, nobody’s out here and it’s actually quite nice.


QISMAH: Everybody thinks the terrorists will strike a coffee shop in Vermont, which is obviously a valuable symbolic target.


(Kimberly chuckles)


KIMBERLY: Wow, it’s only been a week and I’m warming up to terrorism humor.


(Pan to across the street in a back alley. Sheriff Warren and another cop are watching the two from behind garbage cans, using binoculars)


SHERIFF WARREN: What is she saying, Ernest? You read lips, right?


ERNEST: Dear God. She said she’s going to strike a coffee shop in Vermont, which is obviously a valuable symbolic target.


SHERIFF WARREN: Jesus. Of course it’s a valuable target! The terrorists hate us for freedoms AND our caffeination! Osama Bin Laden and his cohorts are groggy masterminds who WORSHIP that 2:30 feeling!


QISMAH: It’s the only thing you can do, right? Besides praying and charitable work, humor is what gets people through awful things like this.


KIMBERLY: I suppose so.


(Cut back to Sheriff Warren and Ernest)


ERNEST: Yuh-oh, she said “It’s the only thing you can do, right? Besides preying on charitable jerks, honor is what gets people through unlawful things like this.”


SHERIFF WARREN: So she’s going to blow up a charity because of HONOR?! This woman has to be stopped in her tracks. Along with this soviet spy she seems to be acquainted with.


ERNEST: How do you figure the white woman is a Soviet spy? Especially since the Soviet Union collapsed ten years ago?


SHERIFF WARREN: Hey, keeping some enemies is comforting.


ERNEST: Our enemies are the terrorists now!


SHERIFF WARREN: Maybe they’ve teamed up! Soviet-Islamic coup de ’tat against the Bush administration!


ERNEST: Maybe lead by a vengeful Al Gore…


SHERIFF WARREN: He does have that beard. You know what? When they stand up, we should swarm and arrest them both for suspicion of plotting terrorist activities.


ERNEST: Yes sir.


(Cut back Qismah and Kimberly)


QISMAH: Well, I don’t want to keep you too long, but I’m glad to see you.


KIMBERLY: Me too. I’m glad we caught up, plus, it’s nice to get some perspective in times like this.


QISMAH: Oh, of course. So you have your husband now, but have you any kids?


KIMBERLY: Yes, I do! An eight year old, a seven year old and a six year old.


QISMAH: Wow, you-


KIMBERLY: Basically spent two and a half years pregnant, yeah.


QISMAH: Did you get morning sickness with any of them?


KIMBERLY: Only with Ryan. It got so bad I hallucinated during the time I was pregnant with Ryan. I can’t tell you how many times I had to sweep my mirror up after it melted on the floor.


QISMAH: Wow. So how many boys and girls?


KIMBERLY: Two boys and a girl.


QISMAH: I have fourteen kids.


KIMBERLY: Oh my. How were your surprised that I was pregnant for two and a half years?


QISMAH: Because I’ve only been pregnant once.


KIMBERLY: Oh, and here’s the check! (Kimberly picks up a check book) Must’ve fallen to the ground, whoopsie doodle!


(Kimberly takes out her purse and puts five dollars on the check book)


QISMAH: I can get my half-


KIMBERLY: No, you’ll need all the money you can when you run away.


QISMAH: That’s true.


KIMBERLY: Good luck. Let’s go!


(Kimberly and Qismah get up and walk out the gate of the outdoor coffee shop and onto the street. Cut to Warren and Ernest)

SHERIFF WARREN: SWARM! (Sheriff Warren and Ernest run over, guns drawn, pointing them at Kimberly and Qismah) FREEZE! HANSBAY POLICE! HANDS UP!


(Qismah and Kimberly freeze and put their hands up)


KIMBERLY: What’s going on here?!


ERNEST: You should know that, comrade!




QISMAH: We didn’t do anything!


SHERIFF WARREN: YOU may not have done anything yet, but what about the three thousand people in New York City, huh?! And what about your plan to blow up a coffee shop AND a charity?!


QISMAH: What are you talking about?!

ERNEST: I’m a lip reader! You said you were going to attack a coffee shop AND a charity!




KIMBERLY: This is profiling!


ERNEST: Profiling of WHO?! Beautiful white women in their mid-thirties?


KIMBERLY: Are you flirting with me while also pointing a gun at me?!


ERNEST: AND arresting you!

(Ernest puts Kimberly in handcuffs and Sheriff Warren does the same to Qismah)


SHERIFF WARREN: You two are under arrest for suspected involvement of terrorist activities. You have the right to remain silent, anything you say or do will and can be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney, if you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed to you by the state, do you understand these rights as I have read them to you?




SHERIFF WARREN: I wasn’t speaking to you! You don’t have those rights anymore, ma’am. Let’s go.




(They take them away. Cut to Rob, Clayton, Kurt, Krist and Dave hanging out backstage)


ROB: I thought “In Utero” is like your “White Album”! I mean, it revolutionized your band!

KURT: It’s my general belief that every album should basically be an almost drastic departure from your previous work, otherwise you become trapped in a sort of formulaic trap of writing and performing music, because “Nevermind” was candy-assed poppy pseudo-punk grunge and I’ve always hated how it turned out.


DAVE: Kurt, you called every day to see how “Nevermind” was doing on the charts, I think you hate it just because you’re jealous of that baby’s penis.


(They all laugh)


KURT: Shit, I can’t tell a lie.


(They laugh some more)


CLAYTON: Congratulations to you and Courtney about the kid, by the way, Kurt.


KURT: Thanks, man. That kid, Frances Bean, is one of the few things that gives me happiness in this life. When the fuckin’ feds tried to take her away from us, I could not handle that shit.


ROB: Yeah, that was bullshit.


KURT: Fuckin’ Vanity Fair. More like Vanity Not at all…good.


KRIST: I think Vanity Unfair could’ve worked.


KURT: Wow, you’re real funny, Krist.


KRIST: You’re the one who said “Vanity Not At All Good”!


ROB: Kurt, I know it’s not my place, but do you still do heroin?


KURT: It’s always your place, kid. You’re going to have to replace us when we’re old folks someday. When Nirvana is long forgotten.


ROB: Did people ever forget The Beatles?


DAVE: They will once Paul, George and Ringo croak.


KURT: Kids these days have never listened to Black Flag or Aerosmith or the Melvins, they’re too caught up in the shit of today, like…oh my God, we are the shit of today.




KURT: Does anybody have any smack?


DAVE: Kurt! No!


KURT: Sorry…


ROB: So you do still do heroin?


KURT: Occasionally, you know, birthdays, weddings, funerals, the Fourth of July, Christmas, Abe Lincoln’s birthday and of course, weekends.


CLAYTON: That sounds like it’s a lot of times.


KURT: Don’t end up like me, kid.


DAVE: Are you really diving into this already?


KURT: Don’t think you can seek refuge from your problems with drugs, all it does is makes you numb to the pain.


ROB: What’s paining you?




ROB: What’s that?


KRIST: Irritable Bowel Syndrome.


DAVE: A painful affliction of the stomach that causes sporadic pains in that area.


KRIST: He almost named the band Pukerrahea because of it.


KURT: It was creative!

KRIST: Was Diapuka also creative? Or Skid Row? Or Fecal Matter? Or Shit?


ROB: You wanted to name the band Shit?


KURT: Almost! Okay? I named it Nirvana because some people become squeamish pussies when they see a word relating to anything scatological.


CLAYTON: What causes your IBS?


KURT: Courtney Love.


(Kurt takes a swig of Strawberry Quik)


ROB: Is there Vodka in there? Because I’m down for a swig.


KURT: No, alcohol makes my stomach worse


CLAYTON: Well, heroin slows down your digestive system which would also make your stomach wor-


KURT: Who puts vodka in Strawberry Quik?


ROB: I guess that’s just my dad.


(Nirvana’s agent walks in)


AGENT: Are you guys ready to go to Fitchburg?


KURT: How many burgs are we going to for Christ’s sakes? I want to go back to Seattleburg and work on my art.


ROB: More songs?


KURT: No, my paintings.


DAVE: He’s a talented painting.


KRIST: Painter.


DAVE: That’s what I said!


AGENT: Do you want to have a lawsuit, Kurt?


KURT: NO! I already had to pay that obscure Nirvana band form thirty years ago all that money. Next Buddha is going to sue me.


AGENT: Then let’s go!


(Kurt sighs and they all get up and gather their instruments. Rob and Clayton get up)


ROB: Nice to meet you, Mr. Cobain.


KURT: You guys too. (Kurt shakes Rob and Clayton’s hands) Now fuck off and watch Rocko’s Modern Life.


(The whole band laughs and they walk away while Rob and Clayton are escorted out by security. Cut to them being thrown out on their asses with the door slammed behind them)


ROB: We went willingly! Was that really necessary?!


CLAYTON: We met Kurt Cobain, dude! He could’ve killed us and I would’ve been honored!


(Rob and Clayton get up)


ROB: That would be a great way to go.


(Rob and Clayton smile widely. Cut to 2001, Ethan and Mayor Sarandon are standing outside an interrogation room door, smiling)


ETHAN: Holy shit! We get to interrogate a REAL-LIFE terror suspect!


MAYOR SARANDON: I know! Two of them!




MAYOR SARANDON: Who’re you going to take?


ETHAN: I’ll take the Muslim one-wait, by take you mean interrogate, right?




ETHAN: Good. Who’s the good cop, who’s the bad cop?


MAYOR SARANDON: You can be the bad cop and I will be the evil cop.


ETHAN: Sounds good!


(Pan over to a younger Detective Reynolds)


DETECTIVE REYNOLDS: You know, trained detectives are supposed to do this-


ETHAN: Shut it! (Ethan and Mayor Sarandon walk into the interrogation room, where Qismah and Kimberly are sitting) ALRIGHT YOU MAGGOT-Wait, what the fuck?


KIMBERLY: Hello, Ethan.


MAYOR SARANDON: Really? Maggot is all you had?


ETHAN: Kimberly, what are you doing here?!


KIMBERLY: I was arrested for suspicion of plotting terrorist plots because I was catching up with my college friend Qismah.




ETHAN: Jesus. (Ethan and Mayor Sarandon sit down) Why did they suspect you?


KIMBERLY: Maybe because I was hanging out with a Muslim!

ETHAN: Well, is it not a fair question to ask why you were hanging out with a Muslim?


KIMBERLY: No, that’s not actually a fair question!

ETHAN: God, you’re right. Why didn’t you just say you were the Mayor’s Chief of Staff’s wife?


KIMBERLY: I didn’t want to use my connections to get a “get out of jail free” card, especially when I would leave Qismah alone.


MAYOR SARANDON: Well, how do you know Qismah doesn’t want to bomb Baltic Avenue, or the Chance square? Our lip reader is tops.


QISMAH: I would never bomb anything! Ms. Altmire-


ETHAN: Donahue.


QISMAH: Right, is a very kind woman for going to jail with me like this.


ETHAN: Well, I am deeply sorry to both of you for bothering you about this. Especially-(Ethan puts his hand on the table near Kimberly) you, my sweet. (Pause) Kimmy, take my hand.


KIMBERLY: I’m handcuffed to the chair.




KIMBERLY: Who are you yelling at?! Ethan, why did these cops do this?


MAYOR SARANDON: I told them to watch out for Muslims.


KIMBERLY: Wow, racist.


MAYOR SARANDON: Well, YOU’RE a racist for calling ME a racist! See how easy that is?


(Ethan puts his hand back by his side)


KIMBERLY: Ethan, you let this policy happen?


ETHAN: Yes, but I didn’t intend for it to target you-


KIMBERLY: Only people like her?!


MAYOR SARANDON: To be fair, isn’t it a relief to be rescued from the awkward process of catching up with a college friend?


KIMBERLY: That is, beside the point!

QISMAH: Excuse me?


ETHAN: Kimmy, I’m sorry. I’ll give the police a talking to.


KIMBERLY: Only because I was targeted! If I was any other woman, you’d wiretap my home phone, cell phone, pager and my DVD Copy of Season three of Friends!


ETHAN: Kimmy, no I wouldn’t!


(Detective Reynolds walks in)


DETECTIVE REYNOLDS: Sorry, for the mix-up lady gals, but we do need to keep Qismah here over night for a background check. However, Mrs. Donahue, you’re free to go.


ETHAN: See? All is well. (Ethan stands up) Uncuff her please.


KIMBERLY: NO! I’m staying here with Qismah. I’m undergoing a background check just like she is! I will not let her be subject to special scrutiny because of the color of her skin!


MAYOR SARANDON: Honestly, she could be black, brown, white or made of felt because I cannot tell.


KIMBERLY: Take us away!

ETHAN: Kimmy! Don’t do this!

(Detective Reynolds has both of them stand up)


DETECTIVE REYNOLDS: Sorry, Mr. Donahue. She has a point.


(Detective Reynolds takes them away as Ethan sits and puts his head in his hands)


MAYOR SARANDON: Fuck, marry, kill, Kimberly Donahue, Qismah and Osama Bin Laden.


ETHAN: Shut up.


(Cut to Rob and Brett sitting in their dorm room at the Boarding School. They are sitting against the side of the bed)


BRETT: So, want to know the best way to honor Kurt Cobain’s memory?


ROB: What?


(Brett takes out a baggie of heroin)


BRETT: There it be.


ROB: Are those his ashes?


BRETT: They might as well be. This is premium Afghani smack.  (Rob makes perplexed face for a few seconds) Heroin.


ROB: OH! Really?


BRETT: Yeah. Want some?


(Rob thinks back to what Kurt told him)


KURT: (Ghostly, echoed voice) Don’t think you can seek refuge from your problems with drugs, all it does is makes you numb to the pain.


ROB: …Sure. For Kurt.


BRETT: For Kurt.


ROB: So, do I inject it?


BRETT: Dude, that’s for like, hardcore junkies.


ROB: Alright, then how are we doing it?


BRETT: We’re injecting it.


ROB: Well-what?


(Brett takes out a syringe and injects Rob in the arm. Rob closes his eyes and looks toward the sky as “Come As You Are” by Nirvana starts playing. Cut to 1993 Kurt Cobain and Nirvana playing that song on stage at the concert 15-year old Rob went to. Cut to Rob looking up at Kurt with admiration. Cut to 2001 Kimberly and Qismah sitting in jail together on the ground Indian style, joking about stuff. Cut to 2001 Ethan on his couch, watching the news. He sheds tears and takes a tissue and starts crying into it. Cut to him in his bed, alone and looking anxious. Cut to Ryan, Sarah and Joel in the back of Amy’s car in 2010. Joel and Sarah seem to be more acquainted as Ryan sits awkwardly by. Ryan is dropped off at his house and Sarah and Joel wave him goodbye and smile, Ryan smiles and waves back. They drive away as Ryan walks up to his house and goes in. He walks in to his living room to see The Daily Show on TV. Larry Wilmore is speaking to Jon Stewart)


LARRY WILMORE: Well, we’ve come to the end of the first year for President Obama and if there’s one thing we learned, it’s this. Negros aren’t magic.


(The audience laughs and Ryan smirks and walks upstairs. He gets on his laptop and looks up “You Just Don’t Get It, Do You?”. Then cut to him in the bathroom attempting to straighten his hair. Cut to him, with straightened hair, at a Hot Topic, searching through piles of black skinny jeans while Ethan fiddles with his keys and uncomfortably stands by. Cut to Ryan desperately trying to fit into his skinny jeans and to get the buttons to button. Then cut to him sitting on his bed head banging to loud emo music. Cut to 1994, Rob is at a candle light vigil for Kurt Cobain, comforting a random woman. Cut to June 2011, 15-year old Ryan and 15-year old Eric are sitting in Eric’s room with ecstasy pills in their hands. They smile, nod and as the song ends, they pop the pills as the screen cuts to black)



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