The Donahues Episode 173

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
Ethan confronts Mayor Sarandon about his future plans for the election, Ryan has to do defensive driving and runs into Jacob while he’s there, who is undergoing serious emotional trauma

Submitted: June 30, 2014

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Submitted: June 30, 2014









“I'm a traveler. I travel around the globe with my sociable outlook. I lock my heart in the refrigerator. This cost me worth the dollar, just because I don't desire my heart stolen by a stranger”

  • Ezna Stephna


(We start with Mayor Sarandon reading a newspaper in his office. The back of it says “SPEAKER BOEHNER PLANS TO SUE PRESIDENT OBAMA” with the sub-headline “Boehner asks America where he’s supposed to put the lawsuit”. Mayor Sarandon puts the newspaper down)


MAYOR SARANDON: This is brilliant!

(Pan over to Evan, who is sitting directly in front of Sarandon’s desk. His crutches are leaned up against a wall in the office)


EVAN: I suppose. What is he suing the most powerful man in the world for anyway?


MAYOR SARANDON: His executive order bullshit! His unconstitutional breaches of what black Presidents are allowed to do under the constitution.


EVAN: Black Presidents?


MAYOR SARANDON: ALL black Presidents, not just Obama.


EVAN: That’s still racist!

MAYOR SARANDON: The founders were racist, that’s not my fault.


EVAN: I don’t think they anticipated a black President. And your assertion brings up a good point, why didn’t Boehner give a shit when President Bush overstepped his bounds?


MAYOR SARANDON: Here’s an even BETTER point I’m actually willing to address. How is Boehner going to get someone close enough to the President to actually SERVE him with this lawsuit? You can’t just dress up as a milkman and be like, “hey, I’m here to see the President. Is he in? I have milk for him”. They would have to, like, send the same guy on a bunch of White House tours until he decided to pop in on one of them, at which point he would be like “Oh, Mr. President! It’s so nice to meet you! You’re served”. I want to be that guy.


EVAN: Boehner could just serve the President himself at next year’s State of The Union. I mean, Obama always hands Biden and Boehner that manila folder, why can’t Boehner hand him one? Although honestly, I don’t think Obama should hand him that manila folder, he’d just “accidentally” give himself a paper cut and then sue the President for damages.


MAYOR SARANDON: You’re just cynical.


EVAN: No, Boehner is delusional. Remember what Obama did in Libya in 2011?  Yeah, it was a violation of the War Powers Act of 1973, he didn’t get approval from Congress within sixty days after the military action we undertook there. Congressman Dennis Kucinich filed a lawsuit, but it was dismissed months later, you know why? Because people only want to see the President get sued if they get to watch him describe how a blowjob isn’t technically sexual.


MAYOR SARANDON: Yeah, well, no one’s going to pay attention if an aging leprechaun like Kucinich sues Obama, but Boehner is the highest-ranking Republican official in the country.


EVAN: Yeah, well that doesn’t matter. Lawsuit’s not going anywhere, it’s just some bullshit that’s supposed to rile up the base. You see President Obama running all around the country right now? “The bear is loose!”




VALERIE: (Intercom) May I come in, sir?


MAYOR SARANDON: Yes, Valerie. (Valerie comes in) Can I help you?


VALERIE: Oh, you can finish your conversation first.


MAYOR SARANDON: ‘Kay. What were you saying, Evan? The President’s a bear?


EVAN: He keeps calling himself “a caged bear” and saying he wants to, you know, get loose and get out there and speak to the public.


MAYOR SARANDON: Why a bear though? I get living in the White House can be isolating, but why a bear?


EVAN: He’s like a big bear, with, with CLAWS and FANGS and-


VALERIE: Big fuckin’ teeth, man.


EVAN: Yeah, big fuckin’ teeth on him. And Congress is just like this little bunny, just kind of cowering in the corner.




EVAN: Yeah, man, just kinda, you know, he’s got these claws, and he’s staring at these claws and he’s thinking to himself with these claws, you know, how am I supposed to kill this bunny?


VALERIE: He’s pokin’ at it, man, he’s pokin’ at it.


EVAN: Yeah, he’s not hurtin’ it! He’s just sort of gently battin’ the bunny around. You know what I mean? And the bunny’s scared, man, the bunny’s scared of him-shivering.


VALERIE: And he’s got these FUCKIN’ claws-


EVAN: Got these FUCKIN’ claws and these fangs, man! And he’s lookin’ at these claws and he’s lookin’ at these fangs and he’s thinking to himself, “I don’t know what to do, man! I don’t know how to kill the bunny!” With THIS you don’t know how to kill the bunny, you know what I mean?


VALERIE: He’s like a big BEAR, man!


MAYOR SARANDON: …What the hell is happening?


EVAN: Did I tell you I ran into Ethan recently?


MAYOR SARANDON: No, you didn’t. When?


EVAN: Last Saturday.


MAYOR SARANDON: Evan, it’s Friday, you didn’t tell me until now?


EVAN: Totally slipped my mind. Too many pain meds from my accident. I shouldn’t even be operating heavy machinery, but that hasn’t stopped me from organizing my garden with a crane.




EVAN: But yeah, he was leaving some restaurant and he told me his wife was in there talking with her divorce lawyer.


MAYOR SARANDON: They were meeting in a public place?


EVAN: That’s what he said. He told me to tell you that you were a bastard, by the way.


MAYOR SARANDON: I’m so hurt.


EVAN: However, when I went in there, the two were laughing and talking, it CLEARLY wasn’t her divorce lawyer! And once they got out there, to the parking lot, their tires were slit.


MAYOR SARANDON: Shit, really?!


EVAN: Swear to God.


VALERIE: Sounds like, stalking.


EVAN: Right?


MAYOR SARANDON: How did you know their tires were slit?


EVAN: Because I went out there and they were calling a tow truck, I asked what happened, and they told me their tires were cut, so I offered them a ride to their house in my Jeep.


MAYOR SARANDON: Oh my God, you drove them home!?


EVAN: Sure did.


MAYOR SARANDON: Why would Kimberly allow that? Doesn’t she know you?


EVAN: Yes, but Kimberly just pretended Luke was her co-worker. So I played along and pretended my girlfriend was my co-worker as well.


VALERIE: Why was that necessary?


EVAN: I don’t know, but it didn’t really work because my girlfriend taught Kimberly’s son.


MAYOR SARANDON: So besides the fact that Ethan is a jealous-ass tire slitter, did you get any juicy nuggets of information from these two?


EVAN: Well... (Cut to Evan and Ms. Smithwood in the front seat of the Jeep and Kimberly and Luke in the back as they are driving along. The wind is making things difficult to hear) SO, WHERE’RE YOU FROM, LUKE??









(Evan speeds up and tries to lift with the steering wheel)

























(Cut back to Evan, Mayor Sarandon and Valerie)


VALERIE: It seems like you left her with more dirt than she did you.


EVAN: Ridiculous. I still have the information that Ethan slit her tires.


MAYOR SARANDON: But no one could prove that.


EVAN: It’s not about, what you know. It’s about what you can prove.


MAYOR SARANDON: First Swingers, now Training Day, how many movies are you going to quote?


EVAN: I’m a buff!


MAYOR SARANDON: Name another movie quote, then.


EVAN: Uh…Mr. 300.


MAYOR SARANDON: That’s a movie title. Do you really not know another movie quote?


EVAN: I’ve only seen Swingers and Training Day. The rest I slept through.


MAYOR SARANDON: (Sighs) Valerie, what is it that you wanted?


VALERIE: Could I speak to you privately?




EVAN: Yes sir.


(Evan gets up, leaves the room and closes the door behind him)




VALERIE: Well, you’re just a cool, hip Mayor, now aren’t you?


MAYOR SARANDON: Wha-because I said “what’s up”?




MAYOR SARANDON: I think that’s something adults say now, right?


VALERIE: Whatever, Snoop Doggy Dog. Anyway, some anonymous person wants to meet you in the Adirondacks to have a chat, in private, tomorrow.


MAYOR SARANDON: The Adirondacks? Who is it?


VALERIE: The Adirondacks are not a person, they’re a mountain range.


MAYOR SARANDON: What is this, Airplane? Yeah, I know the Adirondacks are a mountain range, but WHO wants me to meet them?


VALERIE: He wouldn’t say, but he provided the exact coordinates and time, and sounded like Ethan Donahue.


MAYOR SARANDON: Oh…I see. Get me those coordinates.


(Valerie sets them on the desk)


VALERIE: There’s all the information you need, dawg.


(Sarandon smiles)


MAYOR SARANDON: You really think I’m cool?


(Valerie smiles)


VALERIE: I really do.


(Valerie winks and leaves the room. Cut to Ryan stopping at a stop light in his car. “A Glacial Pace” by Converge is playing on his stereo)


RYAN: What do you mean we can’t get booked for the Warped Tour in Portland?! Oh, we can’t get booked for the Warped Tour in Portland? That’s what you mean? Alright, I understand now. Thanks for the clarification. Bye. (Ryan hangs up) Fuck! Another fuck-up! And what’s worse is that all my friends are being flaky assholes! Michael has work, Eric is too busy playing video games, Brennan is in Washington, Chance is in China, my girlfriend lives three hours away! ugh, I need to tweet about this. I can’t keep this to myself. (Ryan takes out his phone and starts composing a tweet. He types “ugh I’m so lonely without my GF ): For every moment without you I want five hours with you to make up for it-“. The lights turns green, and he keeps driving while tweeting, looking up every couple of seconds to look where he’s going. He continues tweeting “But I probably won’t live that long” and then he presses send and smiles. Then, a cop drives up next to him and he looks over and panics) Fuck. (Ryan puts his phone away and looks intently at the road) Just wave to him. Be nice. (Ryan looks at the cop and waves incessantly, without even looking at the road. The cop flips on his lights) Goddamnit.


(Ryan pulls over on the side of the road, as does the cop, and the cop walks over to Ryan as Ryan rolls down his window)


OFFICER: Can you turn the music all the way down, please?


RYAN: You sure?




RYAN: ‘Kay.


(Ryan turns it all the way down)


OFFICER: Why don’t people not always do that automatically when they get pulled over?


RYAN: I think they’re just hoping the cop will like their music and not give them a ticket for that reason.


OFFICER: Well, I hate Converge.


RYAN: I’m surprised you know Converge. That alone impresses me.


OFFICER: Oh, you’re so underground! Well I hate Depraved Hallway Fern too!

RYAN: Holy shit, a hater! I rarely come across someone who hate-listens to my music!


OFFICER: I hate-listened to both your albums! I even hate-attended one of your shows at Seani’s! I DREAMT of giving you a ticket someday! And here we are. License and registration?


(Ryan sighs)


RYAN: Here.


(Ryan hands the officer his license and registration and the officer checks it)


OFFICER: Name’s Officer Withrow, by the way. Why were you texting while driving today, sir?


RYAN: I wasn’t texting, sir. I was tweeting. Tweeting while driving ain’t a crime, correct?


OFFICER WITHROW: Using your phone in any way while driving is illegal in the state of Vermont.


RYAN: What if you put it down your pants and wait for a call or a text?


OFFICER WITHROW: Then that counts as illegal road head from a robot. Specifically outlawed in the “Road Head from a Robot Prevention Act of 2010”.


RYAN: Did not hear about that.


(Officer Withrow hands Ryan his license and registration back)


OFFICER WITHROW: Bleep blorp. That turn you on?




OFFICER WITHROW: Please- (Officer Withrow takes out a DS with a stylus) sign here. This is not an admission of guilt, just an acknowledgement that this ticket was incurred.


RYAN: This is a DS.


OFFICER WITHROW: If you can beat Castlevania for me I will void this ticket.


(Cut to Ryan sitting in a bar setting, near some guy in his twenties wearing a beret. Other people are sitting around them at different tables, mostly middle-aged and older people. It appears to be the morning and Ryan looks exhausted)


RYAN: Ugh…what are you here for?


BERET GUY: I was going thirty in a forty.




BERET GUY: Also, I was on the wrong side of the road when I was doing it.


RYAN: Jesus Christ, that’s an important detail, why does the speed even matter then?


BERET GUY: I don’t know. I just thought all the signs I saw that were turned away from me said “WRONG WAY” on the other side. Turns out they were stop signs. And one of them was a stop light.


RYAN: Wow, you are a terrible driver.


BERET GUY: Luckily, this comedy defensive driving will expunge the ticket real nice.


RYAN: Yeah, I read there was a comedic element to this defensive driving course, to make it a little, more fun.


BERET GUY: Yeah, there’s even a band.


RYAN: Yeah, like a Tonight Show style thing.


BERET GUY: Right. Name’s Timber, by the way.


RYAN: Cool. I’m Ryan.


(Ryan and Timber shake hands as the class’ instructor walks up to the front of the class. He is a heavier guy with glasses)


INSTRUCTOR: Hey everybody, I’m Shane. I’ll be your comedy defensive driving instructor this morning, with the help of the “Full And Complete Stop” band, everybody! (Pan over to a band on stage complete with a guitarist, a drummer, a pianist and a saxophonist. They start playing cacophonously, but eventually stop and pan back to Shane) Thanks so much guys, and tonight, your waitress will be Erin, give it up for Erin everyone.


(Erin comes around wearing a waitress outfit as people applaud)


ERIN: Hi, everyone.


SHANE: I teach defensive driving here a lot, and Erin and I used to date. But we’ve since broken up, so don’t expect me to pick up any of these people’s checks today, huh? Guys? (No laughter) Because women always expect the man to pay the-uh-


(Erin walks over and throws Shane a towel)


ERIN: Throw in the towel, Shane.


(Shane bites his upper lip and smells the towel)


SHANE: Why does this towel smell like piss!?




(Shane clenches the towel in anger)


SHANE: You broke my heart. And then you pissed on my towel.


RYAN: Why are you still holding it?!


SHANE: …Pride.


RYAN: Huh.


(Shane throws the towel away)


SHANE: So if you want a drink or anything, just ask Erin to get you one. It’s all free. I guess my checks joke didn’t really apply, so…oh well. Play me out, Full and Complete Stop Band! (Pan to the band. The drummer is just shaking his head. Pan back to Shane) …Fair enough.


MIDDLE-AGED WOMAN: Can we order alcohol? And can we turn on the World Cup? I want to see some men bite each other.


SHANE: Uh, you can’t order alcohol, during this. It’s a defensive driving course, and all your cars are outside. It would look bad. Also, we can’t turn on The World Cup because we have to, you know, learn about defensive driving.


TIMBER: But biting is the only reason Americans watch The World Cup!


RYAN: And it’s also the only reason parents put their kids in little league soccer! We demand it!


SHANE: We’ll have a World Cup break later, people. For now, enjoy these informative videos.


(Shane presses a remote and puts on a video on the TV hanging from the wall. The video was clearly made in the 1980s.  A 55-year old Albert White and his female co-host are hosting the program)


ALBERT WHITE: Hi, I’m Albert White of Hansbay local news.


FEMALE CO-HOST: And I’m his female co-host, Adriana Polanco.


ALBERT: Good job, Adriana. Isn’t it nice to have a capable female co-host? Call at this number- (The number “802-802-8802”) to vote on whether or not it’s nice to have a capable female co-host.


ADRIANA: Even though this isn’t live, we look forward to hearing your opinion, and we’ll have a person manning the phone line at least for the next thirty years.


(Ryan takes out his phone and punches in the number. Cut to an old man in a dusty basement, asleep. An old 1980s corded telephone rings, and the vibrations shakes the dust off of it and the man awakes)


OLD MAN: Ooh! Wow, you’re going to EARN your pay check today, Lionel! (Lionel answers the phone) Hello?


RYAN: I just want to give my opinion that Albert White was a sexist bastard.


LIONEL: So I’ll put you down for “no”? Most people said “no”. But you are the first to call in fifteen years.


(Cut to the restaurant. Ryan is on the phone and Shane pauses the video)




RYAN: Yeah?


SHANE: Get off the phone or you won’t get the charge off your record!

RYAN: Oh, sorry. Gotta go.


LIONEL: (On the phone, heard as Ryan is hanging up) No, don’t hang up, I’m lonely!

(Ryan hangs up)


RYAN: Continue.


(Shane rolls his eyes and turns the video back on)


PATRICK: Anyway, today we are going to examine how one should drive in adverse conditions.


ADRIANA: Adverse?


PATRICK: Bad conditions.


ADRIANA: Oh, okay.


(Ryan writes “Adverse=Bad” in his notebook. Cut back to Patrick and Adriana)


PATRICK: Let’s examine some things not to do. Meet Steg. (Cut to a black man in a mustache, driving a car with his girlfriend resting on his shoulder. It is night time, and it is rainy) Really, Steg? What kind of name is that? Anyway, Steg has been driving since early morning- (Steg yawns) and the weather conditions are adverse-


ADRIANA: And adverse is what again?




ADRIANA: Thanks, I forgot.


PATRICK: ‘Kay. Plus, Steg’s girlfriend is resting on his shoulder, thus limiting his movement and ability to respond to an accident. All of these factors are increasing his chances of an accident. Especially now that- (Steg struggles to keep his eyes open) his tiredness is getting the best of him.


ADRIANA: Then, suddenly, some dickhead behind him flips on their brights and blinds him temporarily, causing this horrific crash to occur.


(Steg hydroplanes and crashes into some grass near a highway sign and gets out and throws his hat on the ground in frustration)


RYAN: Come on, there was no action in that!


MIDDLE-AGED WOMAN: Yeah, what happened to “Blood On The Highway” type films?!


(Shane pauses the video)


SHANE: By the eighties, those had fallen out of favor.


RYAN: That guy was falling asleep at the wheel, I at least expected him to run into the sign. Not just, get his tires moist with dew.


SHANE: Okay everyone, it’s time for our first break.  Go to the bathroom, do whatever you have to do, we’ll reconvene here in ten minutes. Play us out, Full And Complete Stop Band.


(The Full And Complete Stop band starts playing again. Ryan gets up and goes into another room and enters the bathroom. Cut to Ryan washing his hands using the bathroom sink. He dries off his hands and walks out of the bathroom. He looks at the room before him, seeing it is a room with pool tables and such. He sees someone on a Golf Simulator game with a lit cigarette in an ashtray on a nearby table. From the back, this person looks a lot like Jacob)


RYAN: Jacob? (The person takes a drag on his cigarette and then flicks some ash into the tray. Ryan walks over and clears his throat) Let me try this again. Jacob?


(Jacob turns around and sees Ryan)


JACOB: Jesus, Ryan?!


RYAN: Yeah. What are you doing here? More specifically, what are you doing, at all?


JACOB: I’m…golf simulating, I guess. Sometimes I do this to relax after a stressful day, I used to be in golf, remember?


RYAN: I remember, vaguely. Seems like golf is something people do to get unbelievably frustrated though. You’re trying to get a ball into a hole that is a mile away. How soothing.


JACOB: It relaxes me, especially when I get to take leisurely golf cart drives around the course or steal the golf cart from hookers.


RYAN: Hookers?


JACOB: Yeah, it’s by the same people who made the GTA games. Although that’s the only similarity the two games have. What are you doing here is the better question, I LIVE in Burlington, you don’t.


RYAN: I’m here for Defensive Driving. I got a ticket for getting mad retweets and favesies while driving. That cop was just mad because he couldn’t get as many RTs as I do.


JACOB: You should know better than to tweet while driving, kid.


RYAN: Why’d you have a stressful day?


JACOB: Ugh… (Jacob takes a drag and blows the smoke out to the side) it’s nothing that simulated golf can’t solve.


RYAN: Simulated golf can’t solve any problem, except for the lack of simulated golf. Although this is a more constructive way of relieving stress than drinking or smoking weed, I guess.


JACOB: They don’t serve me alcohol. That fat guy cut up my fake ID right in front of me just because that waitress flirted with me in front of him. I told her I had a girlfriend!


RYAN: What happened?


JACOB: I got fired.


RYAN: Why?


JACOB: Let me tell you a little story.


RYAN: Does it have something to do with why you got fired?


JACOB: No, I’ll tell you the story of Job.


RYAN: Don’t compare yourself to Job, God killed his whole family.


JACOB: I meant job.


RYAN: Ugh.


JACOB: I lost mine. Here’s how it happened. (Flashback to Jacob in his waiter uniform. He sighs and walks over to a table with a big ol’ family sitting at it. He appears to be looking at the table while he’s talking to them) Hi there, I’m Jacob and I’ll be serving you today. Could I interest you in bread?


FATHER: I’m not interested in bread. This is my family. And we’re celebrating my son’s birthday today. He’s twelve.


JACOB: Good job.


SON: Pardon?


JACOB: Good job on the birthday.


FATHER: …Right, so, we would need some sort of, celebration at the end of the meal.


JACOB: Of course. What can I get you?


FATHER: We haven’t gotten menus yet.


(Jacob’s manager walks by, but stops in his tracks to listen to the interaction as it takes place)


JACOB: Oh, sorry, yes, I’ll get those menus to you. (Jacob turns around) Manager, do you mind fetching me some menus?


JACOB’S MANAGER: I have a name, waiter.


JACOB: So do iii…


JACOB’S MANAGER: Not here, waitress.


FATHER: What is wrong with this guy?


JACOB’S MANAGER: Yeah, are you feeling okay today, Jacob?


JACOB: I feel fine, sir. Maybe I’m a little tired, but besides that I’m great.


JACOB’S MANAGER: Jacob, go to my office and I’ll meet you there in a bit.


JACOB: …Okay…


(Jacob, looking dejected and scared, walks away as his manager tends to the table)


MANAGER: I’m sorry about him, he’s usually a solid employee.


FATHER: Is he autistic or somethin’?


(The manager bites his lip in thought)


MANAGER: I don’t know, why do you ask?


MOTHER: He wasn’t making eye contact with any of us, and he responded to the fact that it’s my son’s birthday by saying “good job” as opposed to, you know, “happy birthday”.


MANAGER: Don’t let another word of this rumor get out. Otherwise I’ll soon be at the behest of the Americans With Disabilities Act. Just like that time I tried to fire that waiter in the wheelchair, but there was no handicapped exit from the restaurant and none of the employees agreed to carry him, so we had to keep him until we could afford to install them.


FATHER: How did he get in the building every morning?


MANAGER: People carried him in!


RYAN: (Offscreen) Wait. (Cut to Jacob and Ryan in the pool room) How are you telling me this part of the story, you weren’t there to see it happen!


JACOB: This is what my co-worker and main homeboy Aaron told me happened. He was standing nearby.


(Cut back to the manager talking to the family)


MANAGER: You guys enjoy your dinner, now.


(The manager walks away and the camera pans to follow him to see Aaron standing there, drooling)


AARON: Fuck.


(Cut to Ethan wearing hiking boots, a backpack and a hat on a mountain. He’s staring out into the Adirondacks Mountain Range)


MAYOR SARANDON: (Off-screen) Ethan!


(Ethan turns around to see Mayor Sarandon standing there in a suit)


ETHAN: Devil? Do you dare approach me?


MAYOR SARANDON: You INVITED me here! And I had to climb a mountain in a suit, I almost DIED!


ETHAN: Begone, vile insect! Or rather, stay, that I may trample you to dust!


MAYOR SARANDON: Listen, Ethan- (Mayor Sarandon approaches Ethan) I am not the Frankenstein monster in this situation, YOU are. You would not have a political career without me.


ETHAN: Oh, sure. You may have “created” me, but I’m not the monster! You’re one of the last scrupulous men I know, just a notch below Detective Zimmerman, George Dompka and whoever leads ISIS! And by the way, no one MADE you climb up here in a suit!


MAYOR SARANDON: Is this why you invited me up here? To yell at me and say I’m better than a terrorist group? Because, in my opinion, that was a backhanded compliment.


ETHAN: No, it was just an insult. And no, I didn’t invite you up here to yell at you, that sort of response comes naturally when I see your fucking face. What I invited you up here for was to talk some sense into you. And the both of us. Neither of us have any chance of becoming Governor of Vermont, even IF we get the Republican nomination, which is a big IF. So here’s my deal for you. I’ll drop out if you do.


(Mayor Sarandon laughs)


MAYOR SARANDON: Wow, what an offer! You’ll drop out, which eliminates whatever small amount of competition if had from you to begin with, as long as I drop out so I can’t take advantage of you dropping out? Man, hard to pass that up. You’re just dropping out because your life is in shambles! No wife, no job, no chances at getting the nomination, and all your kids are adults and probably don’t want to spend time with you anymore.


ETHAN: Shut your fuckin’ mouth.


MAYOR SARANDON: I have no reason to drop out, Ethan! I have nowhere to go but up. I survived gunshot wounds, something not even the Archduke of Austria Franz Ferdinand could do when he was shot one-hundred years ago today! That set off World War I, you know!


ETHAN: I know, but no one would go to war over your death. Hate to break it to you, Brian. Some strip clubs may have to lay some people off, but that’d be about it.


MAYOR SARANDON: You couldn’t defeat me even if you didn’t drop out. I’d like to see you try to defeat me, actually.


ETHAN: …What?




ETHAN: …You want me to stay in the race, don’t you?


MAYOR SARANDON: …No, of course not. I’m just saying, I could do a number on you in the polls.


ETHAN: And that number would be 69. Because you would suck on my poll just so I would stay in the race.


MAYOR SARANDON: Wow, weird way of saying that. Why would you think I want you to stay in the race? Doesn’t make sense.


ETHAN: Because I give your life purpose. (Ethan walks a bit closer) I give it meaning. Getting back at me for pushing you out of office last year is the second thing you think about when you wake up and the second to last thing you think about when you go to sleep.


MAYOR SARANDON: Out of morbid curiosity, what is the first?


ETHAN: Booze.


MAYOR SARANDON: Should’ve seen that coming. Listen, you’re wrong. (Mayor Sarandon throws up his hands and walks a bit away from Ethan) I mean- (Mayor Sarandon turns around) I want to be the Governor to make sure that this, modern “Lost Generation” of Americans gets the opportunities they deserve. We don’t want them to die in the “trenches” of diminished upward mobility and e-cigarette fumes.


ETHAN: Enough with the, admittedly creative stump speeches. I’m dropping out. And I guarantee you won’t see much point in going on after that. Trust me.


(Ethan begins to walk away)


MAYOR SARANDON: Wait. (Ethan looks back at Brian) Can you give me a ride back down the mountain? I’m going to have a heart attack if I try to climb down it.


ETHAN: …Oh my God, I can’t believe I’m doing this.


(Ethan lunges at Mayor Sarandon and pushes him off the cliff)


MAYOR SARANDON: AHHHHHHhhhHHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh-


(A dull thud is heard. Ethan looks over the side of the mountain to see Sarandon’s mangled corpse lying there)


ETHAN: There’s your ride, motherfucker.


(Cut back to Ethan and Mayor Sarandon standing on the mountain. Ethan appears daydreaming)




(Ethan snaps out of it)


ETHAN: Huh? What? Yes, hello. Sure, whatever, just, come with me.




(Mayor Sarandon follows Ethan. Cut to Ethan sitting at a news desk with Patrick White)


PATRICK: Hello, I’m Patrick White. And tonight we are dropping our coverage of the establishment of an Islamic caliphate in Iraq AND our coverage of those people who have been stuck on a ride at SeaWorld for three hours straight, to bring you this exclusive interview with Vermont Gubernatorial candidate Ethan Donahue. Ethan?


ETHAN: Thanks for having me, Patrick. It’s my hope that those people at SeaWorld get off that ride safely.


PATRICK: Yeah, what’s worse is that it’s their underwater ride.


ETHAN: Yeah. What?


PATRICK: Anyway, your performance at that debate over a week ago has been panned, people are saying you were “awkward”, “unprepared” and people have been even throwing around the word “aspy”.


ETHAN: Wow, that’s offensive.


PATRICK: Right, but how do you respond to it?


ETHAN: I think it’s offensive, that’s how I respond to it. But look, Patrick, I admit that my performance at the debate was somewhat off the mark. I have a hard time giving my son a hard time on national TV, I reserve that for his bedroom- (Ethan smiles) uh, shit. I didn’t-that didn’t come out the way I meant it to.


PATRICK: Did it not?


ETHAN: Yeah, I meant like-I give him a hard time in the sense that I yell at him in his bedroom, not that I-you know,




ETHAN: Right. Okay, sorry, moving on-


PATRICK: So you, verbally abuse him? Then?


ETHAN: Uh-no. What? That is a, gotcha question, from the lame-stream media!


PATRICK: My apologies. Make your point.


ETHAN: My point IS, I feel like, especially after what I just said, that it’s best for me to, suspend my campaign activities. And move out of the way to let other able Republican candidates take the reins to defeat Governor Shumlin in November.


PATRICK: Any endorsements?


ETHAN: Wow, you didn’t even take a second to express surprise at my dropping or eulogize it in any way.


PATRICK: Stop giving me a hard time. (Ethan licks his lips in contempt) Any endorsements?


ETHAN: I am not inviting you to my Independence Day barbecue this year.


PATRICK: From what I remember, you shot your son with a BB gun at your 2012 Independence Day barbecue.


ETHAN: Okay, that is, completely out of context, I gave no order to fire.


PATRICK: Any endorsements?


ETHAN: I’m not going to play the endorsements game. I will support whatever Republican the voters of Vermont end up choosing.


(Cut to Mayor Sarandon watching TV from his mansion with a drink in his hand)


MAYOR SARANDON: Well, he did it. He’s out.


(Valerie comes in, wearing a robe. She sits down next to Brian)


VALERIE: So what, are you going to drop out too? And do what he wants?


MAYOR SARANDON: Of course not. He’s wrong about me. I may not have a familiar enemy anymore, but I have something more powerful than that, something he doesn’t have at all. Love.


(Mayor Sarandon starts making out with Valerie. Cut to Jacob and Ryan at the pool room still. Jacob flicks some ash off his cigarette)


JACOB: So after I waited in his office for a bit, Bradlee came in with some things to say.


(Timber walks over to Ryan)


TIMBER: Hey, the class is about to start again. I know because The Full and Complete Stop Band is doing a drum solo.


RYAN: Just tell Shane I’m on the phone because my dog died from ingesting my anti-depressant medication.


TIMBER: Got it.


(Timber walks away)


RYAN: Go on.


JACOB: Well. (Cut to Jacob waiting in Bradlee’s office. Jacob is nervously tapping on the desk as Bradley comes in. Jacob stands at attention) Hello, sir. How are you?


BRADLEE: At ease.




BRADLEE: Fine. Listen, what was that out there, huh? “Happy Birthday” is easy enough to say, isn’t it? That kid didn’t do a good job for living until the age of twelve, this isn’t 19th century London!


JACOB: Sorry, sir, I just forgot the customary greeting for birthdays. On my birthday, the best greeting I got was “you don’t have cancer”.


BRADLEE: That’s neither here nor there. And what did I tell you about making eye contact with the customers?


JACOB: You say “what did I tell you about making eye contact with the customers” a lot, but I don’t remember you ever originally saying that I should make eye contact with the customers. But regardless, I do that anyway, sir. With all due respect.


BRADLEE: You know, Jacob, the other day, I asked you to show some of those “open-carry” activists the door. And you know what you did?


JACOB: Do I know what I did?


BRADLEE: You put them in my office. Why?


JACOB: You didn’t specify what door.


BRADLEE: Jesus Christ, I shouldn’t have to! ARMED MEN in my office! Why can’t you understand BASIC instruction like that?


JACOB: Why can’t I?


BRADLEE: Stop repeating the questions!


JACOB: Sorry, it’s a habit.


BRADLEE: Jacob…one of the customers remarked that you may be…autistic. Is that true?


JACOB: What? No! That’s ridiculous.


BRADLEE: Some of the signs are there. No eye contact, social awkwardness, inability to comprehend instructions and a tendency to repeat questions back after they are asked. So be honest with me, are you autistic?


JACOB: Am I autist-no! No I’m not!

BRADLEE: Good. Now I can fire you without having to run afoul of the Americans With Disabilities Act. You’re fired.


JACOB: …What?!


BRADLEE: You’re fired.


JACOB: Uh, no, I was joking! I’m SO autistic! DUH!!! (Jacob pats his head) What does this do!? (Jacob takes a pink bike helmet off Bradlee’s desk and puts it on his head) I’m an austist! I really am!


BRADLEE: Jesus, that’s retarded people. Not autistic people. Going full retard is not fooling anybody. Retard.


JACOB: Why did you have a pink bicycle helmet on your desk?


BRADLEE: A young girl with terminal cancer gave it to me weeks before she died so I could remember her. It was during my days with the Make-A-Wish foundation.


JACOB: …That’s actually really nice. (Jacob takes off the helmet and puts it back on his desk) I feel like an asshole.


BRADLEE: Get out.


(Cut back to Ryan and Jacob talking. Jacob is taking a drag on his cigarette)


RYAN: That’s rough, man. Why didn’t you go cry into your girlfriend’s arms though?


JACOB: Renee’s on a mission trip in The Congo. Her parents sent her there to get her away from me for a while, they hate me because I challenged their religious beliefs. They said if she didn’t go there, they’d cut off all monetary assistance. So she’s over in The Congo, building people’s houses out of rice bags or whatever.


RYAN: That seems really cruel. Making them choose between food and shelter?


JACOB: I don’t actually know what she’s doing over there, she’s proselytizing or whatever. And meanwhile, I’m here, burning up inside without her.


RYAN: I know how you feel, man. My girlfriend’s in Massachusetts, and-


JACOB: Shut up. Okay? Your girlfriend is a Barry Bond stone’s throw from you, my girlfriend is across the Pacific Ocean. You have a successful underground metalcore album out, I just lost my job because my boss thinks I fall somewhere in the Autistic spectrum. I keep smoking tobacco products even though I KNOW it’s going to kill me someday, but I’m addicted to this shit because my LIFE is addicted to getting shittier.


RYAN: …Sorry. Yee-ha, you’re right.


JACOB: Did you just say “yee-ha, I’m right”?


RYAN: I just…I’m used to being the damaged goods of the family. But I’m actually doing pretty well right now.


JACOB: Yeah. Your Twitter seems to believe otherwise.


RYAN: God, now I’m embarrassed about my Twitter.


JACOB: You should be. It’s SO whiny.


RYAN: I’ll delete my Twitter account. (Ryan takes out his phone) Like Alex Baldwin.


JACOB: Alec.


(Ryan presses on his screen and puts his phone away)


RYAN: Done.


(Jacob looks at his phone)


JACOB: You just posted a Tweet reading “RT if you don’t want me to delete my Twitter account”. That’s not what you said you would do.


RYAN: It’s crowd-sourcing.


JACOB: That’s not what that is, and you should know what that is because you did that to fund your new album.


RYAN: Listen, you and I need to do something after I’m done with my defensive driving.


JACOB: Like what?


RYAN: I don’t know, what do you wanna do?


JACOB: …I want to go to a strip club.


RYAN: We’re both dating people, Jacob.


JACOB: I won’t touch anybody. I just want to watch and throw money.


RYAN: Where are we going to get money?


JACOB: We could withdraw money from dad’s debit card.


RYAN: Sounds good. It’s just that, our super-feminist mother and sister can NEVER know about this.


JACOB: Aren’t you a feminist as well?


RYAN: Yes.


JACOB: Even after-




JACOB: ‘Kay! Relax.


(Ryan pats Jacob on the shoulder)


RYAN: See you, once more ‘round the sun.


JACOB: Weird.


(Ryan walks back into the other room where defensive driving is being taught. Cut to Ryan and Jacob in Ryan’s car. Ryan is driving through downtown Burlington. Jacob is holding the GPS)


RYAN: This place is literally called “Vermont Strippers”. It’s like the only strip club in Burlington.


JACOB: The closest thing to a strip club besides this in Burlington is a lake outside of a UVM frat house after midnight.


RYAN: That’s why I’m not joining a frat. Hypothermia is not a great way to feel “accepted”.


(Ryan parks and the two of them get out and walk up to the bouncer)


BOUNCER: IDs, please. (Ryan takes out his ID and the bouncer looks at it) You look nice in this picture.


RYAN: Thank you.


(The bouncer hands his ID back to him)


BOUNCER: Your ID, sir?


JACOB: Here.


(Jacob hands his ID to the bouncer, who studies it)


BOUNCER: This is acceptable.


(Bouncer hands Jacob his ID)


JACOB: …Thanks.


BOUNCER: Let me see you guys’ hands.


(Ryan and Jacob put out their hands. The Bouncer takes out a knife)


JACOB: What are you doing?!


BOUNCER: I’m gonna carve Xs into your hands so bartenders will know not to serve you alcohol, because you’re under 21.


JACOB: Just use a sharpie!


RYAN: You can go ahead and carve it in mine.


(The Bouncer puts his knife away and takes out a sharpie and draws Xs on Jacob’s hands)


BOUNCER: Pussies.


RYAN: I was okay with it!


(The Bouncer draws Xs on both of Ryan’s hands and Jacob and Ryan are let through. Ryan takes out his keys and a man goes over Ryan with a metal detector, and finds nothing. He goes over Jacob and it beeps)


GUARD: What do you got there?


(Jacob takes out his lighter)


JACOB: Sorry, that was my lighter.


GUARD: There’s no smoking allowed in the club, just to let you know.


JACOB: What about setting small fires?


(The Guard takes away his lighter)


GUARD: You’ve lost this privilege.




(Cut to Jacob and Ryan walking into the club’s reception area. There are two people in front of them)


CASHIER: Twenty-five dollars each. (The adults give the guy fifty dollars and they are let in. Ryan and Jacob walk up) Show me your hands. (Ryan and Jacob hold up their hands) Forty dollars each.


RYAN: But the people in front of us-


CASHIER: Are you calling me a liar?


RYAN: No! No, that doesn’t make sense-


CASHIER: Eighty dollars or get the fuck out.


JACOB: Let’s just pay it.


(Jacob takes out forty dollars, as does Ryan and hands it to the guy)


CASHIER: You guys have a nice time, now.


RYAN: Yeah. (Ryan and Jacob walk into the cabaret to see tons of people, mostly white, but some black and Hispanic, in the room, throwing money around as strippers dance on poles, many of them topless, some of them pants-less with huge tits, pussy piercings and fake hair. Incessant electronic music is playing in the background) That’s totally age discrimination, I swear-why am I talking about that when this is in front of me?


JACOB: I don’t know. Wow.


RYAN: I’ve never been to a strip club before.


JACOB: You’re in for a treat, Ryan.


(Ryan and Jacob walk further into the club, but eventually they have to squeeze their way through a thick crowd)


RYAN: Excuse me.


JACOB: Pardon.


RYAN: Sorry.


(Ryan and Jacob eventually make it to a table near the stage with strippers on it. They sit down)


JACOB: Well, who do we have here? (A brunette stripper walks on stage and gets on all fours and starts apathetically shaking her ass in front of people sitting in front of the stage while Ryan and Jacob look at her from the side. Her face looks tired and indifferent) She’s hot.


RYAN: She looks dead inside.


JACOB: I’m sure her ass doesn’t give that impression.


(A stripper walks over to Ryan and Jacob at the table)


STRIPPER: Excuse me guys, but this table is reserved for another party, we’re going to need you to get up. Sorry.


RYAN: Oh, of course. Sorry.


(Ryan and Jacob get up and walk away)


JACOB: Damn it, all the other tables are filled up.


RYAN: Shit. Without a table, all we can do here is be in other people’s ways.


JACOB: Let’s just stand over near this stripper platform.


RYAN: Alright. (Ryan and Jacob walk over to a stripper platform, where two strippers are pole dancing. A stripper is shaking her ass in front of Ryan’s face while another stripper is spreading her legs to show Jacob her pussy. Ryan throws dollar bills into his stripper’s panties, and gets one of the dollars right in between her panties) Score!


(Ryan looks over to Jacob, who is feeling the ass and legs of the stripper he’s with. She seems into it. Ryan looks back to his and he sort of hesitantly touches her ass as she gets down on the floor of the platform and shakes her ass directly in front of him. He throws some more money on her as he stares in awe)


STRIPPER: (Off-screen) Excuse me! (Ryan looks over to a stripper on a platform in the middle of the club with a microphone in hand and her tits out. She’s now on-screen) Sorry to interrupt everything, but I have written a little comedy routine which I’d like to share with you while I have the chance. (The Stripper clears her throat) What do you call a smoker in a strip club that doesn’t allow smoking? Very agitated and prone to sexual assault!




(People cheer in agreement)



(People cheer even louder in agreement as the stripper throws down the microphone and gets off stage. Pan back to Ryan and his stripper)


RYAN: That’s terrible, why are they doing that? (A lesbian patron comes over and takes the stripper’s ass from Ryan, causing him to smile) I’m diggin’ this.


(Ryan puts two dollars into the lesbian patron’s hands)


LESBIAN PATRON: Wow, thanks.


RYAN: Yeah, keep doing that.


(The Lesbian patron starts rubbing the stripper’s ass as Jacob comes over)


JACOB: That was incredible! How much cash do we have left?


(Ryan puts his finger to Jacob’s mouth)


RYAN: Shh. (Jacob swats Ryan’s finger from his mouth) Just watch this.




(Jacob walks away)


RYAN: What?! Because they’re lesbians?! (Cut to Jacob in line at the ATM in the back of the strip club. Ryan is standing right near him) I’m tell you, man, it won’t work. We exhausted our debit card and you can’t get cash out of a credit card unless you’re willing to take a bat to this thing.


JACOB: I will use mom’s pin number. What is it again?


RYAN: It’s the age she was in the year 1983 and then the number 83.


JACOB: So…1683?


(Ryan throws up his hands)


RYAN: The whole point of that was to be cryptic!


JACOB: Sorry!


RYAN: Dumb.


(Ryan walks away and soon runs into a stripper with naturally blonde hair and spikes on her outfit. The stripper puts her arms around Ryan and Ryan puts his hands on her hips)


SPIKY STRIPPER: Hey, I’m Princess Di.


RYAN: Nice.


SPIKY STRIPPER: Want a lap dance?


RYAN: Can you be Princess Pinkie Pie? (The Stripper puts a “My Little Pony” pink unicorn spike hat on) PERFECT. How many Equestrian Bits will this cost?


PRINCESS PINKY PIE: We only accept American currency, not, My Little Pony currency. And it’s twenty dollars.


(Ryan takes out a twenty dollar bill and hands it to her)


RYAN: My last twenty. There you go. (She takes his hand and leads him to a corner, where she sits him down, surrounded by other people who are drinking. She sits on his lap and throws her hair around, and Ryan feels her hair against his face) Ohh…


(She starts gyrating her ass against his lap as he puts his hands on her legs and rubs with his thumbs. She then puts her face in front of him and starts playing with her tits in front of him as he puts his hands on her shoulders and breathes heavily)


PRINCESS PINKY PIE: Just chill out.


RYAN: Okay.


(She gyrating her pussy in front of Ryan as he looks on in amazement)


NEARBY PATRON: I think the kid’s getting the hang of this!


(Some of them cheer as Ryan laughs and stares at Princess Pinky Pie as she gyrates her ass against his lap even more and she moves with her)


OTHER PATRON: You go, kid!


(The Stripper starts doing high leg kicks by Ryan’s face)


RYAN: Whoa.


PRINCESS PINKY PIE: Don’t worry, I won’t hit ya, babe.


(She does a headstand and shows off her vagina piercing)


RYAN: Nice. (She starts juggling three multicolored balls) Uh…random, but nonetheless impressive.


(She sits on Ryan again)


PRINCESS PINKY PIE: Not moving until you give me a tip.


RYAN: I have- (Ryan takes out three dollars) three more dollars. (Princess Pinky Pie takes them and stuffs them in her G-string and shakes her boobs some more. Then she bows. Ryan applauds and stands up) Thanks so much.




(Ryan walks away smiling and excited. He runs over to Jacob)


JACOB: Dude, where’d you go?


RYAN: Jacob, I just got a private lap dance!


JACOB: Really?! How much did it cost?


RYAN: Twenty-three dollars in all, but SO worth it!


JACOB: Wasn’t that the rest of our money?


RYAN: Yeah, but I thought you were getting more.


JACOB: No, it didn’t work.


RYAN: Fuck. Oh well.


JACOB: Dude! My girlfriend’s the one who is overseas! You couldn’t have saved the lap dance for me?


RYAN: I don’t know how to gyrate that well, plus that might be illegal for us.


JACOB: You know what I mean.


RYAN: Dude, if you were in my position, you would do the same thing and you KNOW it.


JACOB: Ugh…you’re right.


RYAN: We have no more money. But, I think we had a solid night out. Let’s head out.


JACOB: Alright… (Ryan and Jacob walk out of the cabaret. Cut to Jacob driving while Ryan looks out the window) Damn, it was sensory overload in there.


RYAN: Oh, was it?


JACOB: Yeah, that’s why I can’t listen to your album right now.


RYAN: Oh, I’m sure that’s why.


JACOB: Dude, what’s wrong? I’m just not into metal!


RYAN: No, it’s not that. I just…I can’t help but feel like what I just did was cheating.


JACOB: Has Michelle OFFICIALLY said you guys are in a relationship?


RYAN: …No. Not really. Luckily she doesn’t have a Twitter, so I can say it.


JACOB: Then there you go.


RYAN: Well, that doesn’t save your soul.


JACOB: …I guess not.


(Jacob puts a cigarette in his mouth and lights it. Ryan sighs and rolls down his window and sticks his head out of it and feels his hair swept up in the warm summer air as “Heartilation” by Andrew Jackson Jihad begins playing. Cut to Ethan in his apartment’s bedroom, taking off his tie and hanging it in his closet. He looks over at the calendar on his wall. It is on the month June 2014. He looks at his phone and sees it is 12:12 AM on July 1, 2014. He goes over and changes the calendar to July, and then looks at July 4th, which is on Friday. His eyes go wide upon seeing this and he knocks the calendar off the wall in response and then lies down on his bed, sideways. Cut to Ryan and Michelle speaking over Skype. Michelle begins to show her breast, and Ryan picks up his phone suddenly and says what appears to be &l

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