The Donahues Episode 172

THE DONAHUES

 

“FUCK OFF, GET FREE”

 

TV-MA DLS

 

“My desires get the best of me, even when it gets to the point of no return. Or should I say LOVE?”

• Jayla Graham

 

(We start with Anthony Fantano interviewing Ryan in his bedroom)

 

ANTHONY: So, when did you see my review of your album?

 

RYAN: Uh, the day it came out.

 

ANTHONY: And what’d you think?

 

RYAN: Eh. I would rate your review, a decent to strong six.

 

ANTHONY: You dick! I gave your album a decent to strong eight!

 

RYAN: The review could’ve been longer. And it didn’t feature Cal Chuchesta.

 

ANTHONY: Son of a bitch.

 

RYAN: I’m just fucking with you, it was a great review, and I appreciate it.

 

(Anthony laughs)

 

ANTHONY: Oh my God…so, as you probably know, I didn’t care much for your last record.

 

RYAN: Yes, I’m aware.

 

ANTHONY: What made you come through with such a solid album on this one?

 

RYAN: Well, I think we agree in the sense that this LP is better than our last one, although I did like our last one quite a bit.

 

(Pause, as Ryan looks at Anthony expectantly)

 

ANTHONY: …Okay. Go ahead.

 

RYAN: …Alright. Well, but yeah, I think you’re right, this one’s sound is more distinct from a lot of the other metalcore bands we listen to. And it’s influenced by different things, as well.

 

ANTHONY: Was I correct in assuming that you had been listening to some black metal and post-hardcore going into this record? Tracks like “Bermuda Triangle of the Soul”, with its tremolo-picked guitars, blast beats and shrieked vocals just scream black metal.

 

RYAN: Yeah. I thought it might be cool to infuse the genres into sort of a black metalcore sound. Because even on that track, there are clean vocals and there are breakdowns. And the black metal I was listening to prior to recording this album, it wasn’t like old school black metal, recorded on a broken 8-track in a Nordic jail cell while the singer castrates himself.

 

ANTHONY: Right.

 

RYAN: I was listening to American black metal outfits like, you guessed it, Deafheaven, Thantifaxath, Agalloch and actually, some Kvelartak too, I know they’re from Norway, but them too.

 

ANTHONY: Yeah, they’re great. But you never considered putting a picture of one of your band mates committing suicide on the cover of this album?

 

RYAN: Yeah, not an album. Maybe an EP.

 

ANTHONY: Maybe an EP?

 

RYAN: Hey, if one of them wants to volunteer, I’ll dedicate a solid twenty minutes to their memory.

 

(Anthony laughs)

 

ANTHONY: I think they’d appreciate that. You started this band when you were seventeen, what made you want to get involved in the music industry?

 

RYAN: I suppose I had a lot to say. I was going through a lot at the time. I’m always going through a lot. (Ryan chuckles) At the time. Troubled relationships, drug abuse and familial problems. Sometimes I make a huge scene of those problems, like at that debate the other night.

 

ANTHONY: Oh yeah. We’ll get to that later.

 

RYAN: Let’s not.

 

ANTHONY: Okay. Are you booked for Warped Tour this year?

 

RYAN: Not yet, we’re working that out with VANS. We’re sort of late to the game.

 

ANTHONY: Do you feel like corporate sponsorship of things like Warped Tour sully the rebellious attitude of the bands involved?

 

RYAN: Anyone who says that while ten BitTorrents are seeding on their computer should go ahead and buy some VANS shoes. We can’t get away from the monster, it’s already consumed us all. My music was made by the calloused hands of Chinese children just like those fucking shoes were.

 

ANTHONY: Well said. Anyway, a lot of the lyrics on this LP seem to be about isolation, especially “To The Ends of This Earth”.

 

RYAN: Yeah, there was a certain point in my life where I felt like I was alienating myself from everyone, and that comes through in the lyrics on this thing. Is it too late for me to say all these songs are about political issues?

 

ANTHONY: Way too late.

 

RYAN: Fuck.

 

(Cut to Ryan, Michael, Chance and Oleander on stage at some small venue playing the song “Bermuda Triangle Of the Soul”. The bottom of the screen says “Amherst, Massachusetts”. People are moshing in front of the stage)

 

RYAN: (Shrieked vocals) BERMUDA TRIANGLE OF THE SOULL!!! FEELINGS LOST IN A SEA OF CHANGE!!!! LUGGING DEAD DOG CORPSES UP A MOUNTAIN!!! NOSTRILS FREEZE OVER AND YOU FORGET THE SMELL!!! WHILE THE DOGE SAYS “SUCH MOUNTAIN” AND “WOW CLIMBING!!!!”

 

(Cut to a black metal snob at the back of the club smoking a cigarette with another black metal snob. One is wearing a “Mayhem” shirt and the other a “Burzum” shirt)

 

BLACK METAL SNOB: Did he just make a doge meme joke in the middle of a black metal song?

 

BURZUM SNOB: I think he did. I think I love it, though.

 

BLACK METAL SNOB: I don’t think I love you, THOUGH.

 

(The Black Metal snob folds his arms and turns his nose up at the side, away from his friend)

 

BURZUM SNOB: Baby, I didn’t mean it!

 

(Cut to Ryan, Michael Brennan and Oleander on their tour bus, sitting in a booth. Ryan is on his laptop)

 

RYAN: Our record is selling quite a bit! This is awesome.

 

OLEANDER: Well, I’ve been checking the Top 40 every hour on the hour and we’re not there yet.

 

RYAN: Yeah, I don’t think we’ll reach those heights. Not that I want to!

 

MICHAEL: Well, we haven’t even cracked the Top 200. Apparently exposure in Vermont politics is not enough to get a metalcore LP to do that.

 

RYAN: But it has gotten people talking. Even if it’s mostly Bill O’Reilly calling me a “pin-head”.

 

MICHAEL: Oh God, my mom tried to raise me on the books he made for kids.

 

OLEANDER: At least you had a dad.

 

MICHAEL: What?

 

OLEANDER: I didn’t have any book to teach me to be who I am! My daddy left me, saying he was only going out to get a pack of smokes. He came back, sure, but only to pick up a sleeping bag and to casually tell me “Olly, I’m abandoning the family, feed the dog while I’m gone. Bye-bye”.

 

RYAN: That’s incredibly depressing. Where’s he now?

 

OLEANDER: I don’t know. But I got revenge on him by letting that dog starve.

 

RYAN: You, asshole.

 

OLEANDER: I’m damaged goods, guys.

 

RYAN: Speaking of which, KURT!
 

(Cut to Kurt Ballou driving the bus)

 

KURT: What’s up?

 

RYAN: Could you stop by Michelle Reed’s house?

 

MICHAEL: Michelle Reed? Damn, I haven’t heard from her in a while.

 

RYAN: And you won’t be. You guys should go set up at the hotel, and I’ll spend some time with Michelle.

 

CHANCE: I don’t think I’ve ever met Michelle.

 

RYAN: Maybe you didn’t, who knows? KURT! Did you get that?!

 

KURT: Yeah, what’s her address?

 

RYAN: Oh yeah. 183 North Prospect Street, please.

 

KURT: Okay. You know, I was happy to have driven you guys down here, but I was only your record producer, not your chauffeur, but, it’s fine, I don’t mind, just keep that in mind into the future, you might want to find a tour manager.

 

MICHAEL: He’s not as much of a pushover as Winslow was.

 

CHANCE: Give it time. SORRY KURT, WE COULDN’T HEAR YOU THERE, WHAT WAS THAT?!

 

KURT: Oh, I WAS JUST SAYING-

 

(Chance takes out his phone and puts it to his ear)

 

CHANCE: SORRY, KURT, I’M GETTING A PHONE CALL! IT’S A TELEMARKETER! THIS IS IMPORTANT, I’VE GOT TO TAKE THIS!

 

(Chance goes into the other room. Kurt seems confused and offended)

 

KURT: …’Kay?

 

RYAN: He’s a master of making people feel unimportant.

 

OLEANDER: He should get paid more just for doing that!

 

KURT: What did I hear about someone getting paid more?

 

RYAN: Uh, sorry Kurt, my grandma’s calling, I got to take this. (Ryan takes out his phone and puts it to his ear) …No, grammy, you can’t buy vintage leaded gasoline anywhere. All the lead has broken down by now. (Cut to Ryan being dropped off at Michelle’s house, a small little house in a dinky neighborhood) THANKS KURT! (The bus speeds away) You’re welcome.

 

(Michelle walks out of the house, her boobs being considerably larger, and with a rip in her jeans. She’s also wearing a Misfits t-shirt)

 

MICHELLE: Ryan!!

 

RYAN: Michelle! (Michelle runs over and hugs Ryan. Michelle and Ryan eventually detach, although Michelle keeps her hands on Ryan’s shoulders) Jesus, it’s been like nine months since I last saw you. You didn’t have a baby, did you?

 

(Michelle laughs)

 

MICHELLE: No, but my tits did.

 

RYAN: Yeah, I can tell, what happened there?

 

MICHELLE: Delaware did breast implant surgery in my sleep!

 

(Ryan laughs)

 

RYAN: What?

 

MICHELLE: For real! It was a birthday present for when I turned twenty in January.

 

RYAN: …Is he…how did he? Where is he now?

 

MICHELLE: He’s in the house.

 

RYAN: Is he coming to lunch with us?

 

MICHELLE: No, he doesn’t leave the house a lot. Neither of us do, in fact, I shouldn’t be gone very long, he’ll miss me.

 

(Ryan squints)

 

RYAN: Very long? I thought we were spending the day together.

 

MICHELLE: I mean, we could, it just depends on Delaware’s mood.

 

RYAN: How so?

 

MICHELLE: He likes to have people here a lot of the time to guard the house, there’s been a rash of break-ins recently.

 

(Ryan looks at the house’s windows)

 

RYAN: It seems like your house is quite dark.

 

MICHELLE: Yeah, he’s covered up all the windows, we have a “no natural light” rule.

 

RYAN: That’s, weird, it saves money.

 

MICHELLE: Well we have no power either.

 

RYAN: Did you guys fall behind on bills?

 

MICHELLE: No, the bills were stolen during a break-in. We tried to call the electric company to send us new bills, but our phone was stolen.

 

RYAN: Uh…Michelle, have you, seen any of these break-ins?

 

MICHELLE: No, they always happen when I’m gone, it’s weird. And I don’t leave that often, either, except to go to class. Delaware’s always strumming his guitar in the dark with me…it’s nice. But then we have a bat problem.

 

RYAN: A bat problem!?

 

MICHELLE: Yeah, I open the attic and bats come out, scare the hell out of me, and they fly into the other room. When I go in there, Delaware is standing there, and he claims he killed them all, and I can’t find any of their bodies, it’s weird.

 

RYAN: …Is he a…I feel silly asking this, but is he a vampire?

 

(Michelle laughs)

 

MICHELLE: You should feel silly! He’s a schizophrenic cutie, and as much as he likes to call me “Bella” and make me dress like “Bella”, he’s not Edward Cullen.

 

RYAN: Thanks for addressing that question, and I have more questions on that topic, but here’s another one, do you think there’s a possibility he’s lying about these, break-ins?

 

MICHELLE: I thought about that!!

 

RYAN: Let’s think about these questions and more at lunch. How about it?

 

MICHELLE: Sure. iHop sound good?

 

RYAN: Yeah, iHop sounds great. For, lunch.

 

(Ryan goes to the passenger side of Michelle’s car as Michelle heads to the driver’s side)

 

MICHELLE: Cool. I’ll play Delaware’s mixtape.

 

RYAN: Uh, let’s just listen to my album.

 

MICHELLE: Oh yeah, I meant to buy that, but someone stole our iTunes.

 

(Ryan bites his upper lip and gets in the car, as does Michelle. Cut to Ethan sitting in an apartment with a drink in his hand. Micah is sitting across from him)

 

MICAH: The polls after that debate are not looking good. Sarandon is ahead of you quite a bit. Not only that, but he’s whipping you in the soccer mom demographic.

 

ETHAN: That’s only because he kicked that soccer ball off the stage and screamed “goal” at the end of the debate

 

MICAH: That would’ve sunk most candidates, but not Sarandon.

 

ETHAN: Yeah, I don’t get that, it’s one thing for me to be down in the polls because of my gaffe, but they have four other options and they choose Sarandon?!

 

MICAH: Sarandon has the Silvio Berlusconi appeal. He’s the evil they know.

 

ETHAN: And why is the evil they know better than the good that they also know?

 

MICAH: Because people don’t want good men in office. Jimmy Carter, may he rest in peace, was a great man, but not a fantastic President.

 

ETHAN: Jimmy Carter’s not dead.

 

MICAH: You know what I mean though. Kennedy was a philanderer, Lincoln was corrupt and Roosevelt liked to bang his cousin. No wonder their hasn’t been many Roosevelts in public service since then, they’re all inbred freaks tied up in basements.

 

ETHAN: …I just need time alone to think things out, Micah.

 

MICAH: Alright. (Micah stands up) Message received! I’ll be in the other room.

 

(Micah begins to walk towards the other room)

 

ETHAN: Out.

 

(Micah turns around and begins to walk towards the front door)

 

MICAH: Alright.

 

(Micah exits the apartment. Ethan finishes his drink and looks at the time. It is 6:34 PM on Saturday, June 21, 2014. Ethan puts his drink to the side and goes to his kitchen and takes out a huge jug of water and just starts chugging it. Cut to Ethan on his balcony, drinking a cup of coffee. He looks across the complex to see a couple making out on their balcony. The man stops making out for a second and notices Ethan. Ethan takes a sip of his coffee and nods for them continue. They go back to making out. He looks at his watch, and it is 6:46 PM now. He rolls his eyes, puts his coffee down and takes out his keys. Cut to him pulling out of his apartment complex as he drives somewhere. Cut to him pulling into the street where Kimberly and Ryan live. He stops on the side of the street and looks towards the house to see Kimberly and Luke getting into Luke’s smart car)

 

ETHAN: Son of a bitch. (Ethan jumps into the back seat and peaks out from his window to see Luke driving out of the parking lot. Ethan dicks down as the drive by his car) I hope they didn’t see me. Goddamnit, what is she doing?! We’re not divorced yet! I knew she was with that British faggot. (Ethan jumps into the front seat and starts the car) What is she trying to do, confuse the kids? They’ll start thinking- (Ethan gets his seat belt on and starts driving out of the street, towards where Luke and Kimberly are heading) that dandy is their father! The late teens and the early twenties are a very impressionable time! They’ll start getting British accents and, and, all that money we spent on braces will have been wasted! (Ethan gets on the road, and sees Luke’s car a bit ahead of them) Alright, I can’t follow them too close. Otherwise they’ll spot me. And maybe I should throw these- (Ethan holds up some fire crackers) fire crackers at them to throw them off the scent. Wait, they’re not searching for anything, so I shouldn’t give them any scent. I just want to throw fire crackers right now. I guess later.

 

(Ethan puts the fire crackers down. Cut to Luke and Kimberly in Luke’s car)

 

LUKE: I have never gotten used to driving on this side of the road.

 

KIMBERLY: Really? Do you ever accidentally drive on the wrong side?

 

LUKE: No, I’m too afraid of the cameras they have set up along the roads here.

 

KIMBERLY: We don’t have that many.

 

LUKE: In London, there are tons. We’re the most Orwellian city in the world. And what’s worse, is that we’re incompetent. One time we had an American contractor manufacture our road cameras, and they ticketed everyone in London for driving on the wrong side of the road.

 

(Kimberly laughs)

 

KIMBERLY: Really?!

 

LUKE: The Queen’s honest truth, it was a cash cow for 10 Downing too, let me tell you that.

 

KIMBERLY: They didn’t return the money?

 

LUKE: Not if the Queen doesn’t get her celebrity foot-rub a day.

 

KIMBERLY: Oh, long live her.

 

LUKE: Yeah, Long Live the Queen, sure. You know, she’s already done that, she’s eighty-eight, so in terms of living long, mission accomplished. She can die now.

 

(Kimberly laughs)

 

KIMBERLY: You’re terrible. It’s up here.

 

LUKE: Alright. (Luke pulls into a restaurant parking lot. The restaurant is called “Byomkesh Backseat”. They park and get out) Some sort of Indian place?

 

KIMBERLY: Yeah.

 

LUKE: I hope my accent doesn’t offend them.

 

KIMBERLY: I’m sure they’re over colonialism by now. Come on.

 

(Luke and Kimberly walk towards the restaurant. Pan over to a parking lot nearby. Ethan is watching from his car. He takes out some binoculars)

 

ETHAN: Good thing I had these binoculars handy from that time Micah forced me to go birding with him. (Ethan looks at his car clock, it says it is 7:21 PM. He uses his binoculars backwards to look toward the sun) The sun is setting. Good. The sun looks awfully small today. Oh, shit. (Ethan turns them the right way) There we go. I probably shouldn’t be staring at the sun though. (Ethan puts his binoculars down and looks away) Now we wait.

 

(Cut to Luke and Kimberly walking up to the maître d at the Indian restaurant. The woman is in traditional Indian attire and is on her cell phone)

 

INDIAN MAITRE D: This is a private detective, right? Can you spy on my husband for me?

 

LUKE: Excuse me.

 

INDIAN MAITRE D: (To Luke, smiling) One second. (To the person on the other line, no longer smiling) He keeps going to Mumbai for “living there” and I suspect he’s cheating on me.

 

KIMBERLY: Excuse me!

 

INDIAN MAITRE D: Sorry, I have to call you back (She hangs up) Sorry about that.

 

KIMBERLY: What was that about?

 

INDIAN MAITRE D: My husband’s been cheating on me with these Indian whores he meets, and bangs, on buses. He even got hanged for it once. But he managed to stay on his tip toes during the hanging, so the guy that ran the gallows let him go after Prime Minister Modi split.

 

LUKE: That’s so India.

 

KIMBERLY: Could we get a table for two, please?

 

INDIAN MAITRE D: Right this way.

 

(Luke and Kimberly follow the Maître D towards a table, where they sit down)

 

INDIAN MAITRE D: My name is Pratima, if you need anything, light a small fire and I will come to your assistance.

 

(Pratima walks away)

 

KIMBERLY: Well, alright then.

 

(Cut to Ethan in his car. Night has fallen)

 

ETHAN: Night has fallen.

 

(Ethan takes out a pocket knife. Ethan, looking around carefully, sidles over to Luke’s car and crouches down. He slits Luke’s front tire, and then goes to his back tire and slits it too. He then gets up, puts the knife in his pocket and walks nonchalantly away from Luke’s car. As he’s walking back to his car, Evan and Ms. Smithwood see him. Ms. Smithwood is on crutches and goes over to him as well)

 

EVAN: Ethan!

 

ETHAN: (Caught off-guard) Oh-ah, hi! Hello, Evan. (Ethan shakes Evan’s hand) And hello, I know you, don’t I?

 

MS. SMITHWOOD: Yes, I taught your son.

 

ETHAN: Of course, hello, Ms. Smithwood. (Ethan shakes her hand) Sorry to hear about the accident you guys were involved in.

 

EVAN: Oh, it’s alright. She forgave me.

 

MS. SMITHWOOD: Yeah. (Sigh) Just not myself.

 

EVAN: We were just going here to eat for the night. Who are you here with?

 

ETHAN: Oh, I just, used their restroom.

 

(Evan chuckles)

 

EVAN: Yeah, I bet. So what? Was it a fundraiser or something?

 

ETHAN: Uh, I’m not really sure I should tell you, seeing that you’re on the other side and such.

 

EVAN: Oh, I understand. Do you mind if I say you were seeing a hooker?

 

(Ethan chuckles)

 

ETHAN: Whatever works. Look, to tell you the truth, I was here with my wife and our divorce lawyer, if you see them, don’t tell them you saw me, because, it’d be awkward.

 

EVAN: Oh! Okay, I understand. These lips are sealed.

 

ETHAN: Great. Thanks, buddy. Tell Sarandon he’s a bastard for me.

 

(Ethan pats Evan on the shoulder and walks off)

 

EVAN: That hurt.

 

MS. SMITHWOOD: His comment about Sarandon?

 

EVAN: No, the pat on the shoulder. There is, palpable agony coursing through my body right now.

 

MS. SMITHWOOD: We shouldn’t have driven here in a jeep.

 

EVAN: I said I’d take you off-roading.

 

(Cut to Madeline on her laptop on the dinner table in her house. Oliver comes in wearing a suit)

 

OLIVER: Ugh.

 

MADELINE: How was work?

 

OLIVER: I don’t want to talk about it. (Oliver loosens his tie and sits across from Madeline) It seems like every damn day I hear some news story, like Scott Walker’s corruption charges, or the indictments being prepared against ex-Chris Christie aides, and it gives me that itch to get back in the political arena.

 

MADELINE: Didn’t we come here to start a coffee shop?

 

OLIVER: Yeah, yeah, but it’s not as easy as I thought. It’s a crowded market. Although market entry is relatively easy as long as you downshift towards sledgehammering coffee beans into submission and providing free-range cows for hipsters to squeeze milk out into their coffee. As long as they have plenty of room to run around.

 

MADELINE: You could go apply for a loan.

 

OLIVER: We need more income before we can do that. You need to get a job, how’s the search going?

 

MADELINE: I’m looking. Unfortunately, I don’t have a college degree. Why is that again?

 

(Oliver rubs his forehead)

 

OLIVER: I have a migraine, I’m going to go lay down.

 

(Oliver gets up and goes into his bedroom. Britney comes in with her dog, Loyal. Madeline shoots up)

 

BRITNEY: Hey!
 

MADELINE: Jesus, you scared me, Britney.

 

BRITNEY: Sorry. I figured since I’m your landlady, I can come and go as I please.

 

MADELINE: Right. Um, have a seat.

 

(Britney shuts the door and sits down across from Madeline. Madeline sits down as well)

 

BRITNEY: I was just dropping by to see how things were going. Like, the job search for example?

 

MADELINE: Oh, and why would you be interested in that? Is it because you’re collecting our rent next month?

 

(Britney chuckles)

 

BRITNEY: Maybe.

 

(Madeline smiles)

 

MADELINE: It’s going alright. But in the meantime, I’ve been earning money a different way.

 

BRITNEY: How’s that?

 

MADELINE: Slam poetry.

 

BRITNEY: Hmm?

 

MADELINE: Slam poetry. Want to hear some of what I’ve written? (Britney just sits there and stares) …Britney? (Britney just continues staring. Madeline looks at her dog, who is also staring blankly) Uh…what is going on with you two?

 

BRITNEY: (Whispering) Loyal, maybe if we stand still enough, she’ll forget we are here…

 

MADELINE: Come on, Britney, don’t be intimidated by slam poetry. It’s a wonderful art form.

 

BRITNEY: I’m just, I’m not that into poetry, is all.

 

MADELINE: Well, that should change. Come with me to a poetry slam tonight, and I’ll show you just how powerful and fun it can be.

 

BRITNEY: Oh, ooh, I’m busy with other tenants tonight.

 

MADELINE: I know you don’t have other tenants.

 

BRITNEY: Okay, I lied. I don’t have other tenants.

 

MADELINE: Yeah. Just, can you please try it?

 

BRITNEY: …Alright. I’ll give it a try.

 

MADELINE: Awesome. We’ll leave around seven.

 

BRITNEY: Days from now?

 

MADELINE: I said tonight.

 

BRITNEY: ‘Kay.

 

(Cut to some hipster at a microphone at a poetry slam in some smoky club)

 

HIPSTER: I appreciate everyone is enjoying themselves, but please take the smoky outside.

 

(Cut to Madeline, Britney and Loyal at the back of the club)

 

BRITNEY: I don’t see anyone with a cigarette.

 

MADELINE: I know, right? People keep telling me it’s “spirit energy”.

 

HIPSTER: Anyway, our next slam poet is a recent regular. Please welcome, Madeline Donahue. (People applaud) PEOPLE! Remember the rules?! No applauding, you’re supposed to wave at her. Applauding is not egalitarian enough, WAVE!

 

(People start waving at Madeline as he gets on stage. The hipster exits stage right)

 

MADELINE: Enough with the waving. (People stop waving) Thank you. (Madeline clears her throat) I used to keep a pocket full of bills, one, explaining that free speech was a right so sacred it could kill. Another, saying that we have the freedom to press, again, and in that pressing we assemble the results of our oppressing, and from there I petition a list of grievances upon the bill that I feel is most represented on Capitol Hill. With this sword of ink I write to you in the hopes that you might think that the bills we write on aren’t as white, as the dollar bills that we dream of at night. That the box that we are most likely to fill are the prison cells and schoolhouse hells for which a ballot box isn’t in sight, and it doesn’t seem right that we are checking our votes on our dollar bills. Money, the real democracy we count until our bodies are ill. And we can’t spare a second still, to think about the people without a vote, except with a special kind of bank administered note. The dollar bill a tapestry we can’t steal, yet the bonds we form aren’t real. And we can’t spare a second still. Using the tissues of other nations to mold our newborn creation upon this great nation for which it stands, indivisible, unless it’s weighed on green strands. When we rise up we’ll demand our rights be honored with every single bill. Our representatives are here to serve the people’s will. We fight until our voices are shrill. And he can’t spare a second still. And he can’t spare a second still. Yet, he can spare a second bill, because his time is something that he steals. Your time is something he wills. To take your time is one of his thrills, knowing that it threatens everything you hold dear. He thrives on your fear…shaking, our hands are stained with green. Weaving these strands while we squeeze every grain of sand, and we can’t spare a second still. And we can’t spare a second strength of will. Because our time is what we sell for real. Our time is not just a second standing still. Our stomachs fill with rage, our money keeps us in a cage. And we can’t spare a second still. Because our votes hang onto our bank administered notes, and our time is what we buy. Because it is our time our money steals, acting like this tapestry is stronger than every person with a will. Our passion is real. Our fire will burn the sacred bill that encourages our nation to kill. Each second rests on every single window sill, watching the days flipping, our time is slipping. By the day we’ll be gripping, but the clock keeps on ticking. And we can’t spare a second, still. (Madeline pushes the mic stand over and walks off stage as people applaud thunderously. Madeline gets back on stage and lifts the mic stand back up) Sorry.

 

(Madeline walks off stage as the hipster takes the stage again. Cut to Madeline sitting down next to Britney again)

 

BRITNEY: Damn, girl, that was phat!

 

MADELINE: Thanks.

 

BRITNEY: That was like rapping infused with poetry!

 

MADELINE: That’s sort of the idea.

 

HIPSTER: Thank you to Madeline, for that. We look forward to seeing you tomorrow at eight sharp. She’s our indentured servant ever since she broke our last microphone. (People laugh) Next up, me doing celebrity impressions. (He clears his throat) Someone name a celebrity.

 

MADELINE: Tom Cruise!

 

HIPSTER: A celebrity someone’s HEARD OF, goddamnit!

 

MADELINE: Everybody’s heard of him! And you’re a hipster, you shouldn’t care about that!

 

HIPSTER: Yes we can.

 

MADELINE: Obama impression?

 

HIPSTER: Yeah.

 

(Cut to Ryan and Michelle at an iHop)

 

RYAN: Michelle, um, how do I ask this lightly, uh, is Delaware well?

 

MICHELLE: You mean besides the schizophrenia? Yeah, definitely. He stands around in the shed a lot, in the backyard, just standing there, but besides that he’s- (Michelle gives a thumbs-up) all there.

 

RYAN: Right, I understand he’s unwell, in the head. But, um, how do I ask THIS lightly, is he a vampire?

 

MICHELLE: You already asked that. And no, he’s not.

 

RYAN: I’m just saying, I’ve been thinking about, and I’m pretty sure I’ve only ever seen him at night. And one time, he caught a glimpse of the light from my phone and borderline had a panic attack.

 

MICHELLE: Don’t worry, I’ve seen him in the sunlight plenty of times, he glistens in the sunlight.

 

RYAN: Interesting. Would you say he…sparkles?

 

MICHELLE: Oh my God, just because we have a bat problem in the attic, and in the shed, and in the oven and in Delaware’s room doesn’t mean he’s a vampire.

 

RYAN: You see, you said “just because” for all those things like I knew them. I didn’t know most of those things you just said to me.

 

(Michelle gets a text and checks her phone)

 

MICHELLE: Delaware just told me he misses me, and that he’s writing a song about it.

 

RYAN: He’s not the only who’s going to be writing a song about this situation.

 

MICHELLE: What do you mean?

 

RYAN: Listen, Michelle, why don’t you come up to Hansbay with me for a bit? It’s summer, you don’t have class, right?

 

MICHELLE: Right, and I really want to, but…I would probably need to ask Delaware.

 

RYAN: …What? Why? You don’t need his permission!

 

MICHELLE: He would be so lonely up here without me!

 

RYAN: Oh my God, he’s twenty years old, I’m sure he can handle it!

 

MICHELLE: He’s eighteen.

 

RYAN: What? I’m nineteen, how am I older than him?

 

MICHELLE: He dropped out of high school. He’s a man-child, he can’t survive on his own, he’ll hurt himself, or try to drink the Draino, I put those “yuck” stickers all over the hazardous liquids in the house, but he says “Michelle, if I drink those things I’d be trying to kill myself so your stickers serve no purpose” and it’s like, URGGH!

 

RYAN: Michelle. (Ryan puts his hands on her hands) Forget about him. For a second. Look at you. This guy is holding you back. Look at what he’s doing to you!

 

MICHELLE: Do I look bad?

 

RYAN: No, you look stunning as always, but you’re not the Michelle I used to know! The Michelle I knew was strong-willed, independent and wore the pants in our relationship. (Michelle chuckles) I’d like to take that Michelle back to Hansbay. And away from, Transylvania. So what do you say?

 

MICHELLE: …I’ll ask…I’ll tell Delaware where I’m going.

 

RYAN: Go ahead.

 

(Michelle takes out her phone and texts Delaware as a waitress comes along)

 

WAITRESS: Can I get you some more coffee?

 

RYAN: Yes, please.

 

(Ryan hands the waitress his coffee cup and the waitress rolls her eyes and reaches across the table and grabs a pitcher of coffee and pours some coffee into the coffee cup and sets it down on the table. Ryan looks confused and astonished)

 

WAITRESS: There ya go.

 

RYAN: Why did you ask if you knew there was coffee at the table?!

 

WAITRESS: Pff.

 

(The waitress walks away)

 

RYAN: Wow.

 

(Ryan reluctantly takes a sip of his coffee. Michelle gets a text and looks at it)

 

MICHELLE: Delaware just asked me where he’s going. (Ryan stares at Michelle, dumbfounded. Cut to Ryan and Michelle on the road, in Michelle’s car. Michelle is driving and they are listening to “Televising Cremations”, the title track off of Ryan’s album) This is good.

 

RYAN: Thank you. Let me tell you, we have some great tour stories.

 

MICHELLE: Really?

 

RYAN: Yeah, like, one morning, we had to resuscitate Oleander. Classic.

 

MICHELLE: For real?

 

RYAN: Yeah, dude’s fucked up.

 

MICHELLE: Hm. Did you know we were only together for four months?

 

RYAN: Yeah. Why?

 

MICHELLE: I don’t know. It just seems like it was longer.

 

RYAN: I can’t imagine that was a compliment.

 

(Michelle laughs)

 

MICHELLE: No, it’s not like that, it’s just, that I think about it a lot. It’s almost like I’ve, made it longer in my head. Thinking about what we could have done to make it work.

 

RYAN: If you’re looking for a less damaged person, you couldn’t do much worse than Delaware.

 

MICHELLE: So you’re still damaged?

 

(Ryan laughs)

 

RYAN: Not as much as I put on probably, but yeah.

 

MICHELLE; You’re clean, though.

 

RYAN: Yeah. I’ve been clean for about a month.

 

MICHELLE: But, you went to rehab in like, December, right?

 

RYAN: I’ve backslid a couple times. In May, it was alcohol. But I’ve been clean from drugs for about five months.

 

MICHELLE: Ryan! Why would you backslide?

 

RYAN: Why does a sane person press play on another episode of Orange Is The New Black when it’s 5am and they have a job interview in three hours? It’s not something you can just stop, easily.

 

MICHELLE: Well, you need to think of the deepest misery you experienced during your addiction whenever you think about going back to that garbage.  (Ryan takes a vape off of his e-cigarette) Or do that.

 

RYAN: It’s nice to be addicted to something harmless.

 

MICHELLE: Mostly harmless. Not that we know.

 

RYAN: Michelle, I use music as my drug now.

 

MICHELLE: That wasn’t enough for, any musician.

 

RYAN: Yeah. (Cut to Ryan and Michelle entering Kimberly’s household) Hello? Hello!? Anybody here?

 

(Michelle closes the doors)

 

MICHELLE: Nobody’s car is outside.

 

RYAN: Oh, okay.

 

MICHELLE: How are you parents by the way?

 

RYAN: They’re getting a divorce, yours?

 

MICHELLE: Oh, uh, they’re, fine. Why are your parents getting a divorce??

 

RYAN: Don’t really know, don’t really care. Let’s go upstairs.

 

MICHELLE: Alright. (Ryan and Michelle go upstairs and sees a messy game room with Ryan’s laptop on the couch) Just as I remember it.

 

RYAN: Messy?

 

MICHELLE: No. Just teeming with half-finished ideas on a laptop that’s been open for three straight months.

 

(Ryan smiles)

 

RYAN: I know it’s bad for it, but I fear if I close it, they’ll all go away.

 

MICHELLE: What would you creative types do if all your ideas weren’t written down?

 

RYAN: Half of them aren’t anyway. I swear, I have so many thoughts in the shower, and half of them go to waste. I always think I’ll remember them too, like they’re too genius to forget. I mean, you’re a creative type too, you know all this.

 

MICHELLE: Yeah. I’ve always felt that there are scientists out there who have thought of the cure for cancer, but they had to finish washing their hair first, and it just, poof, went away.

 

(Ryan laughs)

 

RYAN: Yeah. (Pause) Speaking of cancer, Delaware is a cancer. And he’s probably spreading it to you with all that schizoid chain smoking he’s been engaging in.

 

MICHELLE: God, probably. Ugh, I feel embarrassed. I probably came off as a batty blue blood.

 

RYAN: A batty blue blood?

 

MICHELLE: Like, a crazy chick, with blue blood.

 

RYAN: Doesn’t that mean you’re rich?

 

MICHELLE: Yeah, which I’m not, but alliteration is fun.

 

RYAN: Listen. You didn’t come off as crazy, just a little…kiss me.

 

MICHELLE: Yes please.

 

(Michelle starts making out with Ryan. They get up against the wall. Michelle then pauses to lead Ryan into Jacob’s room)

 

RYAN: This is Jacob’s room.

 

MICHELLE: He doesn’t live here!

 

RYAN: I won’t tell if you don’t, I guess. (Ryan and Michelle get in the bed and Michelle begins to remove her pants and panties. Ryan gets up to close the door and then removes his shirt) I might need you to help me remove my pants.

 

MICHELLE: Shut the fuck up.

 

RYAN: That’s how I like it.

 

(Ryan painstakingly takes off his pants and Michelle removes her shirt and bra. Ryan takes off his underwear. Michelle gets on top and the two begin having vaginal sex. Cut to Luke and Kimberly walking out of the restaurant)

 

LUKE: Those Republicans didn’t want Obama to capture the Benghazi suspect, if they did, they wouldn’t be bitching about how long it took. It’s all about politics for them. Hell, it took ten years to get Bin Laden.

 

KIMBERLY: It’s hard to distinguish between what is political and what is conviction-based anymore, though. I feel like if Obama personally saved an infant from being run over by a train, then I would be like “oh, that’ll help Democrats with the conductor vote, but it’ll piss off the train track clean-up worker’s union”.

 

(Luke laughs as he takes out his keys and approaches his car. He notices that the tires are flat)

 

LUKE: What the bloody hell!?

 

KIMBERLY: What? Oh…

 

LUKE: Yeah! Look at that! Two of my tires are flat!

 

KIMBERLY: Did you run over something on the way here?

 

(Luke crouches down and inspects the tire)

 

LUKE: No, this was…deliberate.

 

KIMBERLY: Who would do that? Do you have any enemies?

 

LUKE: Besides the immigration office? No, not really. (Luke stands up) Um…do you think?

 

KIMBERLY: No, he wouldn’t do that. He doesn’t know about this anyway.

 

LUKE: We did take a big risk going out in public like this.

 

KIMBERLY: I’m not going to keep you hidden away. Maybe it was just some dumb kids. Let’s call a tow truck.

 

LUKE: …Alright…

 

(Kimberly takes out her phone. Cut to Ryan, Kimberly and Jacob in the kitchen on Monday. Kimberly is setting the temperature on the oven)

 

JACOB: I am really impressed with what you’ve done, bro.

 

RYAN: Thanks, Jacob. I’m really impressed with what I’ve done with your room.

 

JACOB: What do you mean?

 

RYAN: In your room, I meant.

 

JACOB: What are you talking about?

 

RYAN: The album has sold well, in the underground. Better than that shitty Beartooth LP. Holy shit. “Keep living loud and proud, they can never hold you down”. Fuck that lyric. In your room.

 

JACOB: Why do you keep referring to my room!? What did you do in there?!

 

KIMBERLY: Now now, kids, someone tell me how to work this oven.

 

RYAN: See, this is why dad is divorcing you.

 

(Kimberly laughs)

 

KIMBERLY: He’s not divorcing me.

 

(Ethan comes in and puts his keys on the counter and takes off his sun glasses)

 

ETHAN: Hi, everyone.

 

RYAN: Hey dad.

 

(Kimberly sets the oven and turns around)

 

KIMBERLY: Hello, Ethan.

 

ETHAN: Kimberly.

 

JACOB: …So, Ryan’s album is doing pretty well. How many copies have been sold?

 

RYAN: About 1,000 copies.

 

JACOB: 1,000 copies, ten dollars each, how much is that?

 

RYAN: We get 50% of the revenue, so it’s about 5,000 dollars so far.

 

JACOB: Goddamn! What are you going to do with that money?

 

ETHAN: Great job. You should help pay for your college with that money.

 

RYAN: You guys have enough money to pay for my college, though. This is my hard-earned money.

 

KIMBERLY: And getting an education should be your number one priority. That and finding a nice girl.

 

RYAN: Oh, I’ve done that.

 

ETHAN: Really, who?

 

RYAN: You might know her from when I dated her briefly two years ago.

 

JACOB: That chick who kept losing teeth all the time?

 

RYAN: No, that was ten years ago.

 

JACOB: I’m talking about the meth-head chick you dated.

 

RYAN: No, that never happened.

 

JACOB: What about that time all your teeth were falling out?

 

RYAN: That was a dream, listen, Michelle and I are…well, not back together, really, but getting there.

 

KIMBERLY: She lives in Massachusetts, I thought.

 

RYAN: She does. But Ryan’s done long-distance before. There’s Skype, Twitter and the fact that I’m going to schedule a lot of shows in Amherst.

 

KIMBERLY: Was she here, recently?

 

JACOB: Yeah, was she? I saw someone’s car out in the driveway when I came by on Sunday morning to make a sandwich for myself. I don’t have bread at the ol’ apartment.

 

RYAN: Was it an Aztec?

 

JACOB: Yeah. Were you expecting another car to be there?

 

RYAN: I was half-expecting a stolen tank to be out there with a strung-out Delaware operating it, prepared to kick my ass for taking Michelle away from him.

 

KIMBERLY: Oh yeah, she’s still dating that insane kid, isn’t she?

 

RYAN: Unfortunately, yes. Luckily he doesn’t have a car. They share that Aztec.

 

JACOB: Now why would you date a girl who drives an Aztec?

 

(Ryan chuckles)

 

ETHAN: (Under his breath) At least it’s not a smart car. (Ethan takes a sip of a glass of water as Kimberly immediately looks petrified in reaction to his comment. Kimberly storms out of the kitchen and goes into her room, to Ryan and Jacob’s confusion. Ethan puts his drink down) Jesus.

 

RYAN: What the hell was that about?

 

ETHAN: I just opened a huge can of worms, there.

 

JACOB: How so?

 

ETHAN: Nothing, I don’t know what your mother’s problem is. Do we have beer here?

 

(Ethan goes to check the fridge)

 

RYAN: Kimberly doesn’t keep alcohol in the house because I live here, why is mom upset?

 

(Ethan closes the fridge)

 

ETHAN: I don’t know, but she’s ruined your album celebration, so thank her for that.

 

JACOB: I’m going to go see what’s wrong.

 

ETHAN: Just leave her be- (Jacob and Ryan walk towards Kimberly’s room) or don’t LISTEN TO YOUR FATHER FIGURE!!

 

(Ryan and Jacob go up to Kimberly’s door and knock)

 

JACOB: Mom, what’s going on?

 

(Cut to Kimberly sitting on her bed with tears in her eyes)

 

KIMBERLY: TELL HIM TO LEAVE!

 

RYAN: What did he do?! What did he say?!

 

KIMBERLY: …I’LL TELL YOU WHEN YOU’RE OLDER!

 

JACOB: Did he say Santa wasn’t real?

 

RYAN: Go get dad.

 

(Jacob walks to the front of the household, but sees Ethan isn’t there. He then looks outside and sees Ethan’s car is gone. He goes back to where Ryan is)

 

JACOB: Dad’s gone.

 

RYAN: Is he? Okay. Dad’s gone, mom!

 

JACOB: The party can begin!

 

KIMBERLY: Mommy needs time to herself.

 

RYAN: (Whispering) She’s talking to us like we’re eight, we should probably leave her alone.

 

JACOB: (Whispering) Okay, want to go buy new e-cig flavors?

 

RYAN: (Whispering) Yeah.

 

(Jacob and Ryan walk away. Cut to Kimberly lying back on her bed, shaking her head repeatedly. Cut to Madeline, Britney and Loyal sitting on Madeline’s couch with laptops)

 

BRITNEY: Okay, how about this? A poem about, uh, having fun! With your friends!

 

MADELINE: No, we’re not writing a pop song! Poetry is supposed to mean something!

 

BRITNEY: Alright, um, a poem about a squirrel, but the squirrel is a metaphor for an Iraqi orphan!

 

MADELINE: No, that’s trying too hard to have meaning. You know what we need?

 

BRITNEY: What?

 

MADELINE: If we’re going to revolutionize slam poetry, we need an uptight English professor to tell us strict rules regarding poetry, which will inspire us to break them! It works in the movies!

 

BRITNEY: Well, we could audit a summer course for poetry at the University of Oregon at Portland.

 

MADELINE: Sounds great!

 

(Loyal barks. Cut to a professor teaching a summer class at the University of Oregon at Portland. He is an older man with a thin white beard and a brown suit. He writes “Professor Ogi” on the board and turns to see the four people who are there)

 

PROFESSOR OGI: …Hello, class.

 

STUDENT: Yo.

 

PROFESSOR OGI: … (He sighs) Yo indeed. Welcome to Introduction to Poetry Writing. I am Professor Ogi. (Madeline, Britney and Loyal come in) Well, look who decided to show up.

 

MADELINE: We’re auditing this class.

 

PROFESSOR OGI: I have been cleared by the IRS many times, ma’am. And even if I was evading taxes, I have tenure, so. Sue me.

 

BRITNEY: We meant auditing, like, we’re sitting in on the class, we’re not students here.

 

PROFESSOR OGI: Oh, okay. That’s fine, although you can’t have a dog in here.

 

BRITNEY: This is my service dog. He’s allowed wherever I go. And seeing as though we’re on a college campus, I equipped him with a rape whistle around his neck.

 

(Loyal jiggles the rape whistle by moving his head back and forth. He then yelps)

 

MADELINE: Wow. Doge is very service. Much protect.

 

PROFESSOR OGI: Very well then. Have a seat. (Madeline and Britney have a seat) Poetry is not a science, contrary to the beliefs of some poetry professors.

 

(Madeline stands up)

 

MADELINE: Then how do you explain Whitman!?

 

PROFESSOR OGI: What?

 

MADELINE: Um, shit, I totally thought you were going to say something different-

 

BRITNEY: Sit down.

 

MADELINE: Uh-huh.

 

(Madeline sits down)

 

PROFESSOR OGI: Did you two come here expecting me to, worship rhyme, meter and conceit?

 

MADELINE: Sort of, yeah.

 

PROFESSOR OGI: Well, this is Portland. We’re not about conventions here. I may look like an uptight professor, but I worship only two things, first off, Rastafari, secondly, creative freedom.

 

MADELINE: Hmm. I like that.

 

PROFESSOR OGI: Very good. Moving on-

 

(The camera closes in on Madeline as she smiles and thinks deeply about something. Cut to Madeline and Britney driving back home. Madeline is driving as Britney looks out the car window. Loyal is asleep in the back seat)

 

MADELINE: That professor was very refreshing.

 

BRITNEY: For sure. He’s definitely inspired me.

 

MADELINE: Oh yeah?

 

BRITNEY: Yeah. I think I finally have a poem topic.

 

MADELINE: What’s that?

 

BRITNEY: …My assault.

 

MADELINE: Oh…yeah, I think you should do that. Especially if it inspires other victims to speak out and report their assaults.

 

BRITNEY: Yeah…

 

(Madeline reaches back and pets Loyal. Cut to Madeline and Oliver speaking in the kitchen)

 

OLIVER: So, how was the audit?

 

MADELINE: It was awesome. That professor was the shit.

 

OLIVER: Was he?

 

MADELINE: Yeah. And honestly, it makes me want to go back to college.

 

OLIVER: …Go back to college?

 

MADELINE: Yeah. There’s no reason why I can’t apply at the University of Oregon. They have a 74% acceptance rate.

 

OLIVER: Right, and your education, is important, but, we need money right now. Meaning you need a job. Like, a full-time job. So even though I support you going back to college, eventually, you need to realize where your priorities are right now, Maddie.

 

MADELINE: Me getting an education would ensure a high-paying job further down the road, I am not going to put this off for very much longer, Oliver! And news flash, I don’t NEED your permission! My parents would be more than willing to pay for it!

 

OLIVER: Right, but MADDIE, we’re creating a LIFE here, and I’m working my ASS off to try to provide for you, and the dogs, and I need, help. We have to pay rent every month, and not only that, we need food, clothing, utilities, internet, TV, phone service, plumbing, those York peppermint patties that you like, not to mention your goddamn Starbucks addiction, all of that, it costs tons.

 

MADELINE: You know my parents subsidize my gas and my food.

 

OLIVER: Well, I don’t have that luxury. Sorry. But Maddie, this is the only way to survive.

 

MADELINE: I never thought YOU of all people would try to hold me back.

 

OLIVER: Goddamnit Maddie, it isn’t all about you! Jesus Christ, suburbia really did a number on you, didn’t it? I HAVE A MIGRAINE AGAIN!

 

MADELINE: THEN STOP YELLING!

 

(Oliver walks into his room and slams the door as Madeline stands there, upset. Cut to Ryan and Michelle lying in Jacob’s bed on Sunday morning. Ryan has his arms around Michelle. Ryan’s eyes open and he rolls over. He shakes Michelle. She turns around in bed to face him)

 

MICHELLE: Hey.

 

RYAN: Good night’s sleep?

 

MICHELLE: Great, you?

 

RYAN: Fantastic. I felt so dominated last night. Verging on oppressed by the matriarchy. (Michelle smiles and starts making out with Ryan. Michelle’s phone is heard going off. Ryan stops making out with her) Is that your alarm?

 

MICHELLE: No, that’s just Delaware.

 

(Ryan turns around and grabs Michelle’s phone)

 

RYAN: Yep, eighty missed calls. In the last hour. Impressive.

 

MICHELLE: Let me see.

 

(Ryan holds the phone behind his back)

 

RYAN: Gotta promise me something.

 

MICHELLE: What?

 

RYAN: Break up with the psycho.

 

MICHELLE: I will. I promise.

 

RYAN: Good.

 

(Ryan hands Michelle her phone back and she looks at it)

 

MICHELLE: I should probably get on the road, though.

 

RYAN: Alright.

 

(Ryan gets up and starts putting on his socks. Cut to Ryan being interviewed by Anthony Fantano)

 

ANTHONY: So what would you say the single, unifying message of your music is?

 

RYAN: …Hmm…I guess, never be afraid of change, if it’s for the best. Change may seem scary, at first, but it’ll never be positive if you run away from it.

 

ANTHONY: Hmm. Seems like kind of a half-finished idea.

 

RYAN: Yeah. Isn’t it beautiful?

 

(“Fuck off, Get Free (For The Island of Montreal)” by Silver Mount Zion begins playing. Cut to Michelle pulling up to her house. Michelle gets out of the car, takes a deep breath, and goes inside. The house is dark, and all the windows are covered up. Michelle enters the kitchen, to see a bat hanging above an open Drain-O bottle. Michelle slowly backs out of the kitchen and grabs a broom. Cut to Ryan and Jacob entering the Donahue household holding their e-cigarettes and happily vaping, and talking. They then see Luke walk towards Kimberly’s room, and they stop in their tracks, confused. Luke back tracks and nods and waves to them, before going to Kimberly’s room. Kimberly lets him inside. Cut to Ethan in his apartment’s bedroom, masturbating furiously. He is watching pornography on his laptop. As he’s cumming, he falls on the ground as the semen shoots every which way. He buries his face in the carpet. Cut to Madeline walking into a Starbucks. She looks around, and sees a woman in a Starbucks uniform sitting at one of the tables. She waves, and Madeline goes over and shakes her hand and sits down across from her as the song ends)

 

THE END