The Donahues Episode 146

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
Ryan becomes angry with Eric when he sends mixed signals, Michael learns something he didn’t wish to know about Brennan and Delaney and Ryan becomes worried when Kimberly disappears for an entire night

Submitted: February 02, 2014

A A A | A A A

Submitted: February 02, 2014









“You were always too wild a beast to tame. I suppose I have myself to blame for falling into your mindless traps. Now crying and sitting on your lap, I beg of you to stop the mind games. I ask you gently, stop the mind games. They have the same pattern, they are always the same. I suppose I have myself to blame”

  • Sylvia Chidi


(We start with Ryan, Three, Samantha and Sade waiting outside Mrs. Brady’s math class. Ryan is listening to his iPod. He takes a cough drop out of his pocket and puts it in his mouth)



RYAN: Jesus, (Ryan takes his head phones out) what?


SADE: Was that cough drop your breakfast?


RYAN: Um, Sade, I would never eat any meal in front of you or anyone. That was a cough drop, I have an itchy throat.


SADE: Then what was your breakfast?


RYAN: Does that count?


THREE: I don’t think so, Ryan. Sorry.


SADE: Three, this is a private conversation.


RYAN: You thrust me into this conversation, I was perfectly happy listening to Slipknot and pretending you didn’t exist.


THREE: Hey! That’s not very nice.


SADE: Stay out of it, Three!


RYAN: He was defending you! You guys shouldn’t in-fight.


THREE: How is it in-fighting? We’re all in special ed.


RYAN: Oh…yeah, I guess you’re right.


SADE: Where is the teacher?


(Larry walks by on his cell phone)


LARRY: Ugh, you know I love you, but you just wear me out sometimes, it’s like, come on. I’ll be there for your birthday.


RYAN: Dude. Larry.


LARRY: (To Ryan) What, dude? I’m on the phone with my girlfriend!


RYAN: Dude, you’re on the phone with your girlfriend before each and EVERY math class. I don’t think you have a girlfriend, personally.


LARRY: What? (To his girlfriend) Do you hear that babe? He thinks you’re not real! Want me to beat him up? (Pause) What’s that? You don’t? Oh, okay. It’s MLK Day, so I guess I won’t.


RYAN: It’s not.


LARRY: Anyway, I have to go soon, babe. (Cut to a home phone off the hook right next to a toaster on a counter. Larry’s voice is coming through it) Love you. Bye. (He hangs up, cut back to Larry, Ryan, Sade, Samantha and Three) She’s so annoying.


RYAN: What is her name?


LARRY: It’s, uh…


RYAN: Wow, you really expect me to believe whatever name you say? You’re taking way too long for that to be possible.


LARRY: Well, her uh, her name is…okay, her name is…


RYAN: This is way longer than it should even take to think of a fake name!


LARRY: Her name is…girl, friend.


RYAN: Failure all around.


(Cut to Ryan’s economic teacher, Mr. Johnson, a gray-haired man with a beer belly, a thin goatee and a somewhat effeminate demeanor instructing the class)


MR. JOHNSON: Alright, what are the basics of economics? (Pause) Anybody? Okay, well, it’s called CELL. What does CELL stand for? Capital, Entrepreneurship, Land and Labor. So, let’s see some professions and see if you can spot an entrepreneur. (He clicks his slideshow clicker and the Promethean board shows a picture of a man painting) Okay, this man is a painter. An artist. So, if he paints contemporary avant-garde art, would that necessarily make him an entrepreneur?


RYAN: Before I answer that question, can you hold up your left hand please?


MR. JOHNSON: Uh, sure.


(Mr. Johnson holds up his left hand and Ryan sees he has a wedding ring on)


RYAN: Thanks. (Ryan writes “Living a lie” and in his notes and underlines it and looks back up Barryat Mr. Johnson) Anyway, it would depend on whether he runs the business selling the art.


MR. JOHNSON: That’s correct! Good job.


RYAN: Can I use the restroom?


MR. JOHNSON: Course! You deserve it.


(Ryan furrows his brow and gets up)


RYAN: Thanks. (Ryan walks by Mr. Johnson’s desk to see a picture of him and his wife standing by one another, not touching and with their thumbs up. He then exits through the door)


MR. JOHNSON: Alright, let’s create a supply and demand chart, anybody have a product we can use as an example? (Silence) How about the Best of Barry White?


(Mr. Johnson nods his head and writes it on the board. Cut to Ryan walking into the library. He goes up to the sign-in sheet and sees “Jesse Ellis” and “Eric Sullivan” signed into the library) …The hell? (Ryan signs in and then walks to the back of the library where Eric is on a computer) Hey dude.


ERIC: Oh hey. Where should you be?


RYAN: Yeah, I’m supposed to be in economics right now. I told him I was going to the rest room.


(Eric laughs)


ERIC: So you got plenty of time.


RYAN: Yeah. (Ryan sits down at the computer) I have a paper to do, too. Environmental science. She can only take it during lunch.


ERIC: Doesn’t sound like anything you can’t do during lunch.


RYAN: That’s true.


ERIC: Or you can just ask Michael, he’s in that class in another block.


RYAN: Michael and I aren’t exactly on good terms right now.


ERIC: Oh yeah, I heard about that.


RYAN: Yeah.


ERIC: I wish I would’ve been there.


RYAN: Ass. (Eric giggles as Ryan smiles) I’m sure it’ll wear off, Michael was right to do what he did anyhow.


ERIC: Yeah, because you were being a strung out little creep.


RYAN: Yeah. But now I’m a week sober.


ERIC: Congrats.


RYAN: Thanks. So, um, you know how Jesse Ellis is?


ERIC: …I’ve heard you talk about him before.


RYAN: Well, someone named Jesse Ellis apparently signed into the library, but the only problem is, Jesse Ellis is in his early twenties.


ERIC: Hm…maybe there’s just another Jesse Ellis.


RYAN: That’s what I thought, but look right over there.


(Ryan points to a couch in the library. Jesse is sleeping on it)


ERIC: Is that him?!


(Ryan nods)


RYAN: Yep.


ERIC: Holy shit, how sad. Should I wake him?




ERIC: Why?


RYAN: Because then he’ll fuckin’ talk to me! About his shitty life! And he’ll try to make arrangements to hang out and I’ll have to make up an excuse as to why I can’t, I want to avoid that whole process. I only have so many parents that can die.


ERIC: Fine. It’s just that…I have to sneeze.


RYAN: He’s probably drunk, go ahead, he won’t woke up.


(Eric sneezes, and Jesse jumps up)


JESSE: I’m a student here! Okay?! Wha-hold on, Ryan?!


RYAN: (Under his breath) Fuck. (Normal voice) Jesse! How are you? Here?


JESSE: I have issues, man. (Jesse walks over to Ryan) Let me fill you in.


RYAN: Actually, (Ryan turns to his computer) I have this paper I have to write-


JESSE: Dude, (He turns off the monitor and gets on his knees) FUCK your paper, man, I have problems!


RYAN: I’m aware of that.


JESSE: Why don’t you respond to my texts, man?


RYAN: You text me to come hang out with you at like, 2am.


JESSE: Well, that’s when I get fired.


RYAN: …Sorry, did you just say that as if it was a daily occurrence?


JESSE: That’s one of those problems I was talking about. I get fired a lot. Plus, I have anxiety issues because of how much weed I smoke!

RYAN: Then why don’t you stop smoking weed?


JESSE: Because panic attacks keeps things fresh, I guess? Oh and by the way, I’m homeless.


RYAN: Yeah, I got that. Your gauges will sort of tip them off that you’re not a student here.


JESSE: I pretended to be a sub this morning when the real sub didn’t show up, and these kids learned more about life than they probably ever have-well, they learned more about my problems than they did about life, but I filled their young, supple minds with questions, you know?


RYAN: Sure, just know how illegal that- (Jesse takes out a cigarette and puts it in his mouth) wow, you cannot smoke in here!

JESSE: It’s not weed.


ERIC: That, doesn’t matter.


(Cut to Ethan packing a suitcase in his bedroom with a suit on. Kimberly walks in)


KIMBERLY: This is an awfully big responsibility, Ethan.


(Ryan walks in)


RYAN: I agree. What is, though?


ETHAN: I’m going to Washington.


RYAN: Meeting with Obama again?


ETHAN: Not exactly, just testifying before Congress about how much federal disaster benefits the city needs.


RYAN: Why weren’t you one of those guests at the State of the Union? That would’ve been cool. You would’ve been a better guest than that lucky little dipshit with the gauges who works at a pizza place who got a raise and somehow also a Presidential invite. I swear he was eating Funyons in the gallery at one point.


KIMBERLY: Wait, that speech last night was new? I thought they, reran the 2013 State of the Union. I thought we got gun control and immigration and minimum wage stuff done. Am I wrong?


ETHAN: It would’ve been nice to be at the State of the Union, but my thing happened too late to be eligible. Plus, I hate him.


KIMBERLY: So you couldn’t just sit there and look pretty? You nearly touched crotches with the President last week.


ETHAN: That was all for the cause.


RYAN: So is this. But here’s just a couple questions I have about the State of the Union last night. First off, why was Boehner appointing escort committees at the beginning? Are they really that public about their post-State of the Union brothel escapades?


KIMBERLY: They were appointing people to escort the President to the podium, Ryan.


RYAN: Thanks, just, let politico big shot Ethan here field this next one, ‘kay?


ETHAN: I’m ready.




RYAN: Where were the President’s kids during it?


ETHAN: I asked him last week, he says they have a sitter. Some teenage girl from down the street.


RYAN: Got it. I loved his MAD MEN reference, by the way.


KIMBERLY: Yeah, that was nice. I bet he’s been trying to find an excuse to reference MAD MEN in a State of the Union speech for years.


ETHAN: (Obama impression) “My Fellow Americans, you live alone and you die alone, and the world just drops a bunch of rules on you to make you forget that, but I never forget. I’m living like there’s no tomorrow, because there, isn’t. God Bless America”.


RYAN: That was just awful.


ETHAN: That was a MAD MEN quote!


RYAN: But that impression was ghastly! I’m, I’m aghast!


ETHAN: Whatever. Talk to me when you’ve met him.


RYAN: I have met him. We all have.


KIMBERLY: But yeah, that moment when Boehner laughed at Obama’s MAD MEN joke, it was like, the only time he didn’t look like he wanted to crawl under his desk with a flash light and pretend he was somewhere else.


RYAN: I thought Boehner’s biggest mistake during that speech was interrupting the President after he told House Republicans to stop wasting time voting to repeal Obamacare by saying “actually, we have a vote to repeal scheduled for right now, this is crazy, but yeah, bad scheduling I guess, can you take a five, Mr. President? I’ll let you finish your thing afterwards, should be super quick.”


(Ethan and Kimberly laugh)


ETHAN: God…I’ll miss you guys. But I’ll be back soon.


KIMBERLY: Just be yourself. And don’t let mean ol’ Congress push you around!

ETHAN: I would never let a panel of people push me around, I’m not Ryan.


RYAN: Wow. Harsh.


ETHAN: Sorry.


(Cut to Brennan sitting in his environmental class across from Sade and some Hispanic girl. He’s on his phone. Eric walks in)


ERIC: Hey nuqqa.




ERIC: Nuqqa.


BRENNAN: Yo, nuqqa!





HISPANIC GIRL: You guys have GOT to stop saying that word.


BRENNAN: Anyway, what’s up?


ERIC: Um, (Eric sits down) I heard there are whispers of you starting a band.


BRENNAN: Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah I might be.


ERIC: That’s awesome! What do you need?


BRENNAN: Um…it’s more of a matter of “who”. And, “what”. And “why”.


ERIC: Sorry?


BRENNAN: I need a drummer.


ERIC: Oh. Well, doesn’t Coin drum?


BRENNAN: She does…but things are weird with her right now.


ERIC: Does she know?


BRENNAN: Not yet. I don’t think. It’s not like I posted it on Instagram or anything. But, I have posted plenty of Yahoo answers questions and lost connection ads on Craig’s List.


ERIC: Bro, it’s been nearly a month, you need to get over it!


BRENNAN: I’m over it! It’s just that Michael was a bitchly and took my girl away!


ERIC: She wasn’t yours, nuqqa!




ERIC: She was your affair!


BRENNAN: And now she’s with Michael. And I have to worry about Coin finding out, but here’s the thing, if Michael doesn’t even know we boned, then Coin probably doesn’t.


ERIC: Michael doesn’t know?


BRENNAN: I don’t think so, nuq-I mean, nigga.


HISPANIC GIRL: That’s not better!


BRENNAN: Shut up, Kaitlin.


KAITLIN: I’ll chop your dick off, Brennan.


BRENNAN: You wouldn’t be the first one to do something to my dick. Like Delaney did.


KAITLIN: I’d probably be the first to cut it off.


BRENNAN: Check this out, Eric.


(Brennan shows Eric a naked picture of Delaney)


ERIC: Holy shit.


BRENNAN: Right?!


(Brennan puts his phone back)


ERIC: Her tits could be perkier.


BRENNAN: Not even! Her tits hurt my tits! They’re made of 100% West Virginia steel!


ERIC: Is West Virginia known for their steel production?


BRENNAN: They’re known for their pussy production!


ERIC: You’re so not over this.


BRENNAN: Don’t tell Michael about Delaney and I, alright?


ERIC: He may already know, but fine. You used protection, right? (Brennan looks around and then gradually smiles) RIGHT?!




ERIC: Dipshit!


BRENNAN: It doesn’t feel as good!


ERIC: Neither does child birth!

BRENNAN: Luckily, that’s not my problem. It’s Michael’s.


ERIC: You…you arse.


BRENNAN: Excuse me?


ERIC: You’re just an arse!


BRENNAN: Your momma’s arse!


ERIC: Sorry?


BRENNAN: Your momma’s arse! (Brennan gets up and starts dancing in slow, gyrating movements) Your momma’s arse!


(Kaitlin gets up and starts doing the same)


BRENNAN AND KAITLIN: Your momma’s arse!!


ERIC: What is happening?


(Brennan sits down, as does Kaitlin)


BRENNAN: I hope she’s pregnant. That child will be a constant reminder that he got my sloppy seconds, they should name it sloppy seconds.


ERIC: And why would they do that?


BRENNAN: Because the kid’s father said so? Like, what the fuck do you mean?


ERIC: Oh my God, I’m out of here.


(Eric walks away as Brennan laughs)


KAITLIN: You’re a bad guy.


BRENNAN: Nah, nuqqa.


(Cut to Eric and Michael walking down a hallway)


ERIC: I just wish Nine Inch Nails had won Best Alt-rock album, personally. And if not that, I just wish they hadn’t cut Trent Reznor’s performance off at the end!


MICHAEL: Yeah, he tweeted something angry, right?


ERIC: Yeah, he was all like, “music’s biggest night…to be disrespected. A heartfelt FUCK YOU guys”. Like a boss, my boy, Trent. And he didn’t delete his Twitter account after he tweeted it like some sort of Alec Baldwin-esque pussy. He’s probably recorded a new album already, just ripping on the producer of the Grammys.


MICHAEL: All I know is that Black Sabbath won a Grammy. And also that the surviving members of Nirvana and a surviving member of The Beatles won a Grammy for some song called “Cut Me Some Slack”.


ERIC: Yeah, what is this, a guilt trip? We didn’t shoot John Lennon, and we certainly didn’t shoot Kurt Cobain, although there are plenty of conspiracies that say we were involved somehow.


MICHAEL: Here’s something I did notice though, what was up with Pharrel Williams’ hat?


ERIC: Yeah! It was crazy, it looked like what would happen if the zookeeper from Curious George sold his hat to the Elephant Man!


MICHAEL: God, so awful.


ERIC: I’m not surprised Trent is angry though, even the people who won are angry. Macklemore says Kendrick Lamar deserved Best Rap Album.


MICHAEL: Oh, of course, Best Rap Album should’ve finally gone to a misogynistic, violence and drugs-obsessed rapper. It was about time we scaled that mountain top.


ERIC: Speaking of scaling mountain tops, (They stop walking and stand near a side door out of the school) have you scaled Delaney yet?


(Michael laughs)


MICHAEL: Not quite. I’ve gotten a blow job, but that’s it. Once she comes up in March, we’ll probably get down to it. You know, Spring is a frisky time of year.


ERIC: You masturbate six times a day, what time of year isn’t frisky for you?


MICHAEL: There’s that refractory period that also happens six times a day, thank you. It’s pretty nice, actually, I have some tea before I get horny again.


ERIC: ‘Kay. Has she talked about Brennan much?


MICHAEL: Uh, no. That’s sort of a sore subject.


ERIC: So she hasn’t talked about what, if anything, they did together?


MICHAEL: Oh, fuck me.


ERIC: What?!


MICHAEL: What do you know?


ERIC: What do you think they did?


MICHAEL: It doesn’t matter what they did! But I have a sense that you know.


ERIC: No, I don’t.


MICHAEL: Yes you do. And you’re going to tell me!


ERIC: I don’t have to. (Michael holds up his fist) Whoa dude, I was going to tell you, relax.


MICHAEL Good. (Michael puts his fist down) What kind of dumb shit did they do?


ERIC: They had sex. In the vagina.


MICHAEL: …They fucked?


ERIC: Yeah.




(Michael begins to walk out the door, but then Eric looks concerned and grabs Michael’s arm)


ERIC: Hold on, Michael!

(Michael breaks free from Eric’s grasp)


MICHAEL: Let go of me, man.


(Michael walks towards the parking lot in a huff as Eric stands there, shaking his head in regret. He rubs his eyes and walks back down the hallway. Cut to Ryan and Eric driving a van down a neighborhood street, wearing their tie-and-shirt Mormon uniforms)


ERIC: So now Michael keeps texting me about how “cheap” he thinks this is.


RYAN: Cheap? Like, he thinks Delaney is cheap?


ERIC: Yeah, he thought Delaney wanted to fuck him because he was special.


RYAN: She probably does think he’s special. There’s a difference between empty sex with a man whore like Brennan and sex with Brendan Schieppati, which is special, and intimate.


ERIC: Brendan Schieppati?


RYAN: Sorry, I just really want to have sex with Brendan Schieppati.


ERIC: The guy from Bleeding Through?


RYAN: Fuck yes.


ERIC: Well, I think Michael places too much weight on sex.


RYAN: Take it from someone who’s fucked Michael, he’s does put way too much weight on sex. Four pounds worth.


ERIC: His dick is not that big.


RYAN: No, he has an anvil fetish.


ERIC: Four pounds? It sounds more like a paper weight fetish.


RYAN: It was somewhere in between, anyway, he’s the first house. (Eric and Ryan get out of the van, which reads “LDS Church of Hansbay”. They walk up to a door and see a garbage bag labeled “for that thing” and then a box of Thin Mints right next to it) So we’re picking up donations of clothes and girl scout cookies?


ERIC: Yep.


RYAN: Why?


ERIC: We’re sending them to the troops, nuqqa! It’s a good cause.


RYAN: That’s perfect actually, can I donate this, (He takes a long-sleeved “Bullet from my Valentine” shirt that’s far too small for him out of his back pack) shirt I wore in freshman year to the cause?


ERIC: Uh, sure.


RYAN: Here.


(Ryan tosses the shirt to Eric)


ERIC: Thanks. Now pick up the bag and I’ll get the cookies.


RYAN: Dude!


ERIC: Hey man, I’m allergic to chocolate, we’re all sacrificing here. Just like the troops.


(Eric picks up the box of Thin Mints)


RYAN: Are you allergic to paper? (Ryan picks up the trash bag) Because that’s all that box is! (They start to walk away. Cut to them in the van, driving) Why exactly would soldiers need Girl Scout Cookies? I mean, imagine what a sergeant would think!


ERIC: I don’t have to, I hear stories all the time.


(Cut to some soldiers all standing in a row while their drill sergeant is staring at one)


DRILL SERGEANT: WHAT IS- (He holds up a Girl Scout cookie) THIS, PRIVATE?!


(Cut to a one-shot of the Private)




(Cut back to the sergeant, who is now holding a half-eaten cookie and has crumbs by the sides of his mouth)






DRILL SERGEANT: NOOO!!! (He spews crumbs at him) YOU ARSE!




DRILL SERGEANT: Your momma’s arse! (The drill sergeant starts dancing in a gyrating fashion) Your momma’s arse!


(The other privates start dancing like that)




(The Private is shown tearing up while looking at a framed picture of his momma’s arse, as indicated by the caption of the photo he is holding. Cut to Bishop Woodrow speaking with Ryan and Eric in his office)


BISHOP WOODROW: You two did well on collection. And you did it without needing back-up or any muscle.


ERIC: We’re not the Mormon mafia.


BISHOP WOODROW: ‘Course we aren’t. (Pause) Uh, anyway, nice job. You two can leave my office now. (Eric and Ryan bow) Oh, you don’t have to do that-


RYAN: We would die for you.


BISHOP WOODROW: No, I don’t-I don’t want to have brainwashed you that badly.


(They stop bowing)


ERIC: What was that?


BISHOP WOODROW: Nothing. Please go.


(They walk out of the room. Cut to them walking out of the building into the parking lot)


RYAN: This organization makes so little sense.


ERIC: Yeah.


RYAN: Well, uh…what are you doing this Friday?


ERIC: Oh, uh, I don’t know. I might be going on a college visit, but I’m not positive.


RYAN: Cool, cool. I’ll keep that in mind. But for now I’m going to go home. And make love to this (He takes out a sleeve of Thin Mints) Thin Mints sleeve I ganked.


ERIC: You arse!


RYAN: Your momma’s arse!

(Ryan does the “your momma’s arse” dance. Eric laughs)


ERIC: Why are so many people doing that!? And that sleeve is for the troops!


RYAN: I’m pourin’ this one out for the troops!


(Ryan pours the cookies out of the sleeve)


ERIC: Wow, what a waste, that only works with liquids.


RYAN: I’ll pick it up.


(Cut to a soldier guarding some warehouse in Afghanistan. He takes a bite out of a thin mint, but then furrows his brow)


SOLDIER: …This tastes like gravel.


(Cut to Michael sitting in front of his computer. He is tapping his fingers furiously as his eyes dart in different directions)


MICHAEL: (Under his breath) Goddamnit…I thought I was special. Just, going around boning any random guy. They knew each other for a goddamn day. One day! So unclassy. I should call her-no! I should Skype her. Put the power in my hands.


(Eric appears on Michael’s computer in a webcam chat)


ERIC: But do NOT mention my name! She can’t know I told you! Neither can Brennan actually, by the way.


MICHAEL: I won’t mention your name, but I could give a fuck what happens to Brennan.


ERIC:  No, it’s what happens to me! The walls of trust will break down if Brennan finds out I told you!


MICHAEL: Don’t worry, Brennan’s had experience with breaking down walls of trust.


ERIC: But if walls of trust break down in a bedroom and no girlfriends are around to hear it, did they really fall?


MICHAEL: Goodbye now. (Michael exits out of Eric’s webcam window and makes a video call to Delaney) Come on, pick up.


(Delaney answers, and is shown on the webcam in her bedroom)


DELANEY: Hey there. I missed you.


MICHAEL: Delaney, I need to talk to you.


DELANEY: We’re talking, what’s up?


MICHAEL: Um…I heard…through the Grapevine, that you, how do I describe this? You had sex with Brennan?






DELANEY: Right. Um…


MICHAEL: You didn’t really tell me that.


DELANEY: Yeah, I didn’t. I don’t know, it was just-


MICHAEL: You had known him for how long at that point?


DELANEY: …Over a day. But Michael, it didn’t mean anything! I regret it, it was just empty, meaningless-


(Cut to Brennan speaking to Eric at lunch)


BRENNAN: Powerful, emotional, thrusting of-


(Cut back to Delaney on the webcam)


DELANEY: Genitals.


MICHAEL: He’s small?

DELANEY: Relatively, yes.


MICHAEL: And what, is that supposed to make me feel better?


DELANEY: Doesn’t it?


MICHAEL: Only a little bit, but I’m still upset, because, I thought you were going to have sex with me because I’M special!

DELANEY: I am! Brennan isn’t, because, he’s Brennan and he just wanted to get his dick wet. As long as it didn’t get so wet that it dissolved.




DELANEY: His dick is small.


MICHAEL: Got it. And why did you oblige?


DELANEY: Because…in West Virginia, I don’t have much luck with anybody. I’ve been stood up on multiple occasions on movie dates. One guy even stood up in the middle of the film and walked out. Everybody thinks I’m some, emo freak. So they play these cruel jokes.


MICHAEL: You’re not an emo freak. Okay? And I could understand if this is just some, low self-esteem thing, but I don’t want to become sexually involved with someone who makes that a habit, because, I don’t want, you know-


DELANEY: Stop, okay? I’ve only had sex with three guys. In my entire life.




DELANEY: You wouldn’t know any of them. Except for, Brennan. Also, do you know Sting?


MICHAEL: Yes, I know Sting! And you didn’t have sex with Sting! He’s like, sixty- two!


DELANEY: No, not that Sting, just some weed dealer named Sting from my home town. He’s not tantric like Sting, he lasted like, the length of one of Sting’s songs.


MICHAEL: Okay, that’s, more than enough.


DELANEY: I thought honesty was the new policy!


MICHAEL: There’s such thing as too much, though. Listen, you having fucked Brennan bothers me.


DELANEY: I’m sorry, I regret it!


MICHAEL: I know you do. And I appreciate your honesty, after the fact. But it’s just confusing, because, we got along really well that night. Why did you still end up staying there, fucking him and then presumably going out for donuts the next morning?


DELANEY: It was breakfast burritos, and, I was into you, but, I thought you were out of my league.


MICHAEL: …Really?




MICHAEL: And Brennan wasn’t?


DELANEY: Well, he’s a nine, but his personality is a four. You on the other hand,


MICHAEL: Am not a philandering bastard.


DELANEY: Exactly. And I knew he had a girlfriend when I was fucking him.


MICHAEL: Because I told you.


DELANEY: Yes. And I felt bad about that. He had a picture of her on his bedside table and he had to put it down.


MICHAEL: Um, what did she look like?


DELANEY: Maria Brink from In This Moment.


MICHAEL: It probably was just Maria Brink from In This Moment, then.


DELANEY: Then who was that blonde girl in the picture on the other side of the bed that he insisted I keep up?


MICHAEL: Oh my God, that’s Coin.


DELANEY: Jesus Christ.


MICHAEL: Just…promise me you won’t have empty sex anymore. I view sex as a very special emotional experience between two individuals.


DELANEY: I understand. Sex with you would be very special, unlike sex with Brennan.


MICHAEL: Alright. Could you get an STD test though?


DELANEY: I don’t know how to do that.


(Michael takes out his iPhone and looks at it)


MICHAEL: There has to be an app for it or something…


(Cut to Ryan’s head, asleep on a toilet lid as his legs lay on the floor in front of the toilet. He is snoring. He wakes up, suddenly)


RYAN: Ugh, what? Why am I here? Oh yeah. (Ryan picks up a medicine bottle of Pennyroyalin from the floor) This shit doesn’t work as well anymore. (Ryan takes out his phone and sees it’s 6:51 PM on Friday, January 31, 2014) Shit, I need to do something soon or this night will have been wasted. (Ryan gets up and calls Eric, and walks out of the bathroom) Hello? Eric?


ERIC: (On the phone) ??????????????????????


(SUBTITLES: “It is imperative that sex occurs tonight”)


(Ryan laughs)


RYAN: What language is that?


ERIC: ???????????????????????????????????????????


(Subtitles: “In Japan, we don’t have blow jobs because everyone is uncircumcised, which is just, disgusting”)


(Ryan laughs)


RYAN: Alright, dude, I’m gonna need you to speak English pretty soon here.


ERIC: ????????????·???????????????????


(Subtitles: “There is a culture of sexual harassment in Japan”)


RYAN: Dude, come on. I don’t understand what you are saying.


(Cut to Eric at his computer at his home, on the phone, holding a book titled “Dirty Japanese as a Sucking Lanuage-tits!”)


ERIC: ????????????????????????????????2??bronies?4????????????????????????????????


(Subtitles: “Want to hear a dirty joke? A horse fell down in some mud because it was so exhausted from having been butt fucked by two bronies named Eric and Ryan”)


RYAN: Okay, I recognized three words in there, Eric, Ryan and Bronies. Did you record last Saturday’s episode? Because I would totally be down to come over and watch that shit, I missed it, because some rioter had thrown a Molotov at my TV, but now that we have a new one, I’d totally be willing to slap on my- (Ryan puts on a bright purple Ushanka with a plush unicorn horn on the end) Twilight Sparkle Ushanka and come over. You know what’s crazy about that show though? Princess Celestia assigned Twilight Sparkle to live in Ponyville to study friendship, that’s the cushiest government job EVER. That’s the Equestria equivalent of being ambassador to the Bahamas. Oh, and by the way, I got my cutie mark the other day from a tattoo artist, except I put it where a tramp stamp should be. (Ryan pulls down his pants to reveal a pink diamond tattoo just above his asshole) It’s totally awesome. Everypony will love it.


ERIC: ?????????


(Subtitles: “You were an accident”)


(Ryan sighs, pulls his pants up and puts his hand on his face)




(Kimberly walks in and Ryan jumps up and turns down the music)


KIMBERLY: Wow, enough of that.


RYAN: Sorry, where have you been?


KIMBERLY: I was at the grocery. The fridge is stocked downstairs. Have you been studying for the SAT?


RYAN: …Absolutely.


KIMBERLY: STUDY FOR THE SAT! Your test is in six weeks! And no drugs!

RYAN: Mom, come on. I don’t do drugs anymore.


KIMBERLY: You also just said you’ve been studying for the SAT, which I don’t believe at all, because you said it unconvincingly. Prove yourself, okay? It’s called responsibility, and it’s never been your strong suit.


RYAN: …Fair enough.


KIMBERLY: Now I’ll be back. I’m going out for a business dinner.


RYAN: The roads are a little icy.


KIMBERLY: I’ll be fine. Your car might not though, because I’m taking your car.


RYAN: Why?!


KIMBERLY: My car is in the driveway and I can’t get it out due to the ice.


RYAN: Oh my God, why not reschedule?


KIMBERLY: It’s important! Now, what are you doing tonight?


RYAN: Nothing, I guess. I called Eric, but he spoke Japanese at me for like an hour, it was so fucking frustrating. He did that until I guessed what language he was speaking, it turns out it was Japanese, and then once I did that, he told me in plain English that he couldn’t hang out. Like, what the fuck? All that bullshit for nothing.


KIMBERLY: Oh. I’m sorry, honey.


RYAN: It’s alright. He says he can hang out tomorrow. But if he speaks a word of Japanese I’ll commit hari kari.


KIMBERLY: On that melodramatic note, I’ll be off.


RYAN: Bye.


(Kimberly leaves. Cut to Brennan and Eric speaking to one another in Environmental science. Sade and Kaitlin are also sitting at their desk)


ERIC: Yeah, Michael did not react well to that news.


BRENNAN: You mean the news I told you not to tell him?


ERIC: Who told you I told him?


BRENNAN: I have an inside girl. But it was totally Delaney.


ERIC: How did Delaney know it was me?


BRENNAN: She didn’t. I just figured you told Michael because you’re the person closest to Michael that I told.


ERIC: Oh. Well, sorry.


BRENNAN: Nah, it’s cool. At least he knows he got my sloppy seconds now.


ERIC: Whatever makes you feel like you won.


BRENNAN: I did win.


KAITLIN: Was she under the influence when you fucked her?


BRENNAN: No, she wasn’t.


ERIC: Would you ever fuck someone who was under the influence?


BRENNAN: ...Am I also under the influence?


KAITLIN: No, because there’s nothing wrong with two drugged-up people fucking, because neither is taking advantage of the other’s intoxication because they’re both intoxicated.


BRENNAN: I guess I’ll have to get- (Air quotes) “drugged up” then. Oh! I’m so high right now! (He uses his hands to widen his eyes) Look at my pupils!

(Coin walks in, and Brennan sits up)


COIN: Brennan! Why have you been avoiding me?!


BRENNAN: Coin! I was just about to talk to you, babe! (Brennan gets up and walks over to Coin) How would you like to be the drummer for my new band?


COIN: A band?


BRENNAN: Yep. You and I could go far together.


ERIC: Does this class have a teacher?

BRENNAN: I’m the singer, Eric’s the guitarist-


ERIC: I am?


BRENNAN: Some drug dealer named Sting is the bassist and the drummer is YOU!


COIN: That sounds awesome! What is the band called?


KAITLIN: It’s called The People Who’ve Fucked De- (Eric covers her mouth) HMM!!


BRENNAN: It’s called Maps and Mazes!


COIN: That’s a cool name actually.


BRENNAN: Yeah, our fans could have a fun shorthand way of saying it too, like, “M&M” or something.


COIN: …That might be confusing for people.




ERIC: Really? You don’t know why “M&M” might be a confusing way to refer to your band?




COIN: Well I’m in!


BRENNAN: Awesome!


(Brennan hugs and kisses Coin. After that, Coin looks at Brennan)


COIN: Let’s go get Chik Fil-a sandwiches from the cafeteria before passing period ends.




KAITLIN: Passing period ended like five minutes ago!


COIN: Let’s go.


(Coin and Brennan walk out of the class room)


KAITLIN: I was gonna say the band was called “The People Who’ve Fucked Delaney Cortez Featuring Coin Howell”.


ERIC: Yes, thanks for almost ruining Brennan’s life.


KAITLIN: He deserves it.


(Eric looks around)


ERIC: Maybe.


(Cut to Ryan on his computer, late at night, listening to “Surfacing” by Slipknot. He turns it down)


RYAN: Wow, it’s pretty late. Like, even these League Servers are mostly just obnoxious Russian kids. So where’s mom? I better call her.


(Ryan takes out his phone and speed dials her. It rings several times, but goes to voicemail)


KIMBERLY’S VOICEMAIL: This is professional woman Kimberly Donahue, and by professional women, I mean businesswoman, not stripper or hooker, okay, misogynists, anyway, leave a message, or just shoot me a text.




RYAN: Goddamnit. (Ryan hangs up and calls again. No answer again) Shit! (He calls again, this time he gets up and walks out of his room and paces around the game room) Pick up, pick up, pick up. (No answer) Fuck. The roads are icy, too. I better call the morgue. Some people would check up on relatives first, maybe call hospitals, but nope. I like to get the worst out of the way. In fact, I should go even further than that.


(Cut to a Keith Rohrabacher digging a grave in a heavy jacket as he a man stands near him with a shovel. He receives a phone call)


KEITH: Hello?


RYAN: Hi, this is Ryan Donahue, I was wondering if someone by the name of Kimberly Donahue had been buried there recently, I haven’t seen her in over seven hours.


KEITH: …I don’t know, most of the people I’m burying right now have been dead for a month or more. I’m a little behind.


RYAN: Oh my God.


KEITH: So yeah, no Kimberly Donahues.


RYAN: Thanks.


KEITH: You’re welcome. (Keith hangs up. He then reaches into the grave and pulls out a skull) Alas! Poor Yorick. I knew him, Horatio. A man of infinite snipes, all directed at my vermillion cheeks.


HORATIO: This seems disrespectful.


KEITH: He deserves it.


(Keith throws the skulls back into the ground and continues digging. Cut to Ryan on the phone)


RYAN: No, I don’t know where she went, she took my car, but I don’t know who she met up with. So I’m really starting to worry.


MADELINE: (On the phone) Well, she didn’t call or text me or anything. But yeah, that’s really concerning. If she was staying somewhere, she should’ve called you.


RYAN: Exactly! But she’s nowhere to be goddamn found!


MADELINE: Have you called dad?


RYAN: No, he’s in Washington and has no control over this, I wouldn’t want to worry him if this turns out to be nothing.


MADELINE: I’m in Rhode Island and have no control over this, but you still called me!


RYAN: Right, well that’s because she might be dead!


MADELINE: That’s worrying me! What you’re doing is worrying me!

RYAN: Whatever, just, keep your ear to the ground. And maybe you’ll hear the tortured screams of mom’s godless spirit.






(Zoom out to see a scars on his hand as he’s holding a razor blade)


MADELINE: Keep me updated.


(Madeline hangs up, and Ryan puts his phone in his pocket and walks over to the coffee machine. As “Disposition” by Tool begins playing, Ryan changes out the filter, puts coffee grounds into the machine and makes some coffee. Cut to Ryan sitting on the couch, drinking coffee. Ryan checks his phone to see it’s “2:12 AM on Saturday, February 1, 2014”. Cut to Ryan pacing around his house. Then cut to him doing push-ups in the front foyer. Cut to Ryan pacing around, becoming angry, before kicking over several bar chairs and a glass candle holder. Cut to him cleaning up that mess, and using one of the glass shards to slice his arm slightly. As the song ends, cut to Ryan watching TV while drinking coffee)


RYAN: Oh my God…I can’t stay up any longer. Is she ever going to call me? And why am I watching this? (Pan to reveal Ryan is watching “Without a Trace”) Jesus! Fuck this! I’m calling the police!


(Ryan takes out his phone and dials 911. It rings several times, but goes to voicemail)


POLICE VOICEMAIL: (Girly voice) Heeeeey!


RYAN: The fuck?


POLICE VOICEMAIL: This is the police! We’ll call you back, if we feel like it! LOL I’m totally JK.




RYAN: How does the police have voicemail!? Ugh.


(Ryan calls again, and someone picks up)


POLICE DISPATCHER: 911, what is your emergency?


RYAN: I haven’t seen my mom since 6pm, she was supposed to come home at ten-ish and she has not been in contact.


POLICE DISPATCHER: We’ll send a cop there to help you out, what’s your address?


RYAN: Wait, can’t you just trace the call?


POLICE DISPATCHER: …Yes, but it’s easier if you just tell us your address, this isn’t supposed to be a scavenger hunt.


RYAN: Fair enough, my address is 822 Timber Oak road. Or, Oak Timber, I can’t remember.


POLICE DISPATCHER: An officer will be there as soon as time permits.


RYAN: Thank you.


(Ryan hangs up. Cut to Ryan speaking to a police officer in the foyer. He is writing things down on a note pad)




RYAN: Uh, brown, I guess.


POLICE OFFICER: Height? Weight?


RYAN: Um, 5’8 maybe. 115 pounds.


POLICE OFFICER: Date of Birth?


RYAN: July 6, 1967.


POLICE OFFICER: Any black eyes or mutilations to speak of?


RYAN: What? No!


POLICE OFFICER: Okay, because we always find these women like that, and their families always forget to tell us about that part.


RYAN: Yeah, I’m sure that’s what happens.


POLICE OFFICER: Here’s how this works. I’m going to put this into a pneumatic tube system down at the station, and then, once it is filed, if any police officer in the country comes across your mother, they will alert us and we will in turn alert you, once the message arrives through the tube, of course. Do you have a pneumatic tube system installed yet by the way?


RYAN: No! Since when does anybody use those?!


POLICE OFFICER: Fine, we’ll just call you.


RYAN: Thanks.


POLICE OFFICER: Don’t worry. Her phone probably died or something.


RYAN: Hopefully.


(The police officer nods and walks out the door. Ryan turns around. Cut to Kimberly lying in somebody’s bed. She opens her eyes and looks to the alarm clock, which says “7:30 AM FEB 1 2014”. Kimberly then looks up to see Luke wearing shorts and a t-shirt while holding coffee)


LUKE: Good morning.


(Kimberly sits up and stretches)


KIMBERLY: Good morning.


LUKE: How’d you sleep?


KIMBERLY: Very well, thank you. I dreamed I was water-skiing on the Dead Sea.


(Luke smiles)


LUKE: Interesting. I dreamed of my homeland. London. And you were there. On a double-decker bus, driving it. My mother was complaining, she never did like public transit. So you kicked her off at the next stop.


(Kimberly laughs)




LUKE: Then I taught you the ropes of how to drive the double-decker, and we practiced all over the streets of London, and then we had a Royal Wedding in the double-decker, I was dressed as a Nazi and you were Kate Middleton.


KIMBERLY: Luke. I just slept over here, okay? I couldn’t traverse the icy roads, so I just stayed here, it didn’t mean anything.


LUKE: I know. It was just a dream. Plus, you were Kate Middleton! I’m not even sure she had your voice!


KIMBERLY: That soul-seizing bitch.


(Cut to Kimberly walking in the door of the house. Ryan, who was asleep on the couch, perks up)






(Kimberly walks in the room, and Ryan runs over to hug her)


RYAN: Mom, where the hell were you?! Why did you do that to me?!


KIMBERLY: What? What did I do?!


(Ryan stops hugging her)


RYAN: You didn’t call me, text me or answer your phone, I was trying to figure out where you were all fucking night! I called the FUCKING police!


KIMBERLY: Oh, honey, I’m so sorry! My phone died.


RYAN: You better be fucking sorry, I thought you were dead!!


KIMBERLY: Jesus. I’m so sorry, Ryan. I just-I thought you would assume I was gone for the night.


RYAN: Where were you?!


KIMBERLY: I was…at a friend’s. The roads were too icy to come home.


RYAN: Okay, well, next time that happens, let me know who you’re bunking with, alright??


(Kimberly looks around)




(Cut to Ryan in Eric’s room, smoking an e-cigarette while Eric sits on the bed. It is night time)


RYAN: This is awesome, I should get one. It’ll give me something to be addicted to that doesn’t have any actual health risks.


ERIC: Well, e-cigarettes have been linked to e-cancer.


(Ryan laughs)


RYAN: E-cancer?


ERIC: Yeah, it’s where cells multiply at rapid rates and make your lungs smells like jawa juice.


(Ryan laughs)


RYAN: I want that. What flavor is this?


ERIC: Bling bling.


(Eric holds up the flavor)


RYAN: Pardon?


ERIC: Yeah, that’s the name.


RYAN: That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.


(Eric laughs and puts the flavor down)


ERIC: Yep. It tastes like bling-bling, though.


RYAN: Oddly enough, it does.


ERIC: Hey.


RYAN: What?


ERIC: Come over here.


RYAN: …’Kay. (Ryan puts the e-cig down and crawls onto Eric’s bed. Eric begins sucking on Ryan’s neck, as Ryan closes his eyes and breathes in, trembling) Oh my Gosh…


(Ryan lies down as Eric continues to do that. He stops for a second and stands up to take his pants and shirt off)


ERIC: Want to take your pants off?


RYAN: Just the shirt for now. (He stands up) Don’t want to escalate things too quickly. (Ryan takes his shirt off and gets on the bed. Eric turns off the lights. Eric also gets on the bed and reaches into his pants and starts fondling him, which makes Ryan smile) …Fuck…


ERIC: Do you like that?


RYAN: Yeah… (Eric pulls down his skinny jeans and pulls them off) You’re getting expert at that…


ERIC: Thanks. I practice with a cucumber-


RYAN: No, I mean, pulling my skinny jeans off like that.


ERIC: Oh. Yeah, I guess I’m…fine at that too. (Eric lies next to Ryan) What do you want me to do?


RYAN: Just…hold me…


ERIC: …Okay.


(Eric holds Ryan. Eric rubs his stomach and Eric makes his way down to Ryan’s ass)


RYAN: Oh, Jesus…


ERIC: Do you like that?


RYAN: …Yeah…


ERIC: All I want to do is make you happy, Ryan.


RYAN: …Okay…


(Eric slips his underwear off and rubs his erection against Ryan’s stomach)


ERIC: Take off your underwear.


RYAN: Why?


ERIC: I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with. I just know you’d like this.


RYAN: …Okay, fine.


(Ryan slips his underwear off, to show he has half an erection)


ERIC: What can I do to make you happy?


RYAN: …I don’t know…


ERIC: All I want to do is make you feel good.


RYAN: No, I understand that. (Eric puts his hand on Ryan’s dick and starts slowly jerking it off) Ohh… (Eric gets progressively faster, and Ryan’s face cringes) Eeek, hold on, hold on!


(Eric stops)


ERIC: What?


RYAN: It’s too rough.


ERIC: Oh, sorry. I just want to make you feel good.


RYAN: I know, I know-


ERIC: I know what it is.


RYAN: What?


ERIC: Listen, Ryan. I care deeply about you. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with your addictions. I’m sorry about Sarah, I’m sorry about Michael, I’m sorry about your mom. I’m sorry, for, making you sad and, mad.


(Ryan wells up)


RYAN: It’s just…I feel like everybody just, knows how to mess with my head. And my feelings.


ERIC: Don’t cry.


RYAN: They know how to exploit my insecurities. And even now that I’m back from rehab, I feel like I’m not welcome.


ERIC: …You are. Let me prove it to you.


(Eric starts sucking on Ryan’s dick. After several sucks, Eric takes his hand off of Ryan’s dick to see it is flaccid. Eric looks at Ryan, who appears to be looking away, embarrassed and distraught. Eric looks down and puts his bottom lip on his upper lip. “H” by Tool begins playing. Cut to Ryan and Eric sleeping on Eric’s bed, with boxers on. The camera shows Ryan is not sleeping, but wide awake, thinking. Cut to Michael in his kitchen in the middle of the night. He puts ice cream in a bowl and takes a spoon and licks it. He takes out some photo booth pictures of him and Delaney and suddenly, he imagines Brennan replacing him in all those pictures. He shakes his head, and he looks back at the photo reel, and now he sees Delaney alone in the pictures, with no one else. Upset, he puts the pictures back in his wallet and brings the bowl into his room where Delaney is on his Skype with her boobs out. Cut to Eric, Brennan and some ki

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