The Donahues Episode 211

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
Ryan and his friends hunker down at Eric’s apartment during the snowstorm, Luke calls Kimberly’s method of paying the maids into question and Madeline meets with a publisher

Submitted: February 27, 2015

A A A | A A A

Submitted: February 27, 2015









“Scatter joy, Steal the light, dance upon a useless lie - Nathalie! Love is strong, hate is gone, live forever in this song!”

  • Michael Gira


(We start with a phone alarm going off on a carpeted floor. The phone reads “FEB 23 2015 11:30 AM”. Michael’s hand hits the phone as we zoom out to see him sleeping on a pull-out couch in Eric’s apartment. Eric walks into the nearby kitchen with a coffee cup and fires up the Keurig)


MICHAEL: Duuuude!!


ERIC: What, Michael!?


MICHAEL: I’m trying to sleep!

ERIC: I’m trying to LIVE in my own apartment, okay?! Can I do that? Is that okay with you? Because it’s 11:30 and normal humans who don’t stay up until ungodly hours of the early morning are up around this time!

MICHAEL: Dude, fuck off, I went to bed at 1am.


ERIC: Wow, so you’ve gotten like, over ten hours of sleep! You don’t need to be asleep anymore! Jesus Christ, I’m going to be out here! Wait, don’t you have a class in thirty minutes?


MICHAEL: I’m skipping it.


ERIC: Michael, why? It’s a noon class! Even drug addicts and thirty-five year olds who think they’re too mature to be told to go to class even though they’re thirty-five and in college, go to class when it’s a noon class.

(Michael gets up and sees a bottle to Febreeze in his bed with him)


MICHAEL: Why is this here again!?


ERIC: I don’t know man, you must get up in the middle of the night and grab it so you can sleep with it.


MICHAEL: Do you mean “sleep with” in the sitcom sense?


ERIC: You tell me.


MICHAEL: Ugh, why would I do that?!


ERIC: Sleep-walking’s a weird thing, ask my psych professor.




ERIC: Fine, then don’t ask him. (Michael throws the Febreeze aside and goes into Eric’s room and shuts the door) Yeah, just sleep in my room through your noon class. Jesus.


(Eric puts a K-cup in his coffee maker and shuts the lid. Cut to Ryan in tree outside his dorm window, smoking a joint. It is freezing cold outside, and he is shivering, close to death. Faith opens up the window)


FAITH: Dude, you’re going to get frostbite out here, it’s 25 degrees!


RYAN: Dude, t-t-t-trust me, that’s the warmest it’s been in a while, and it’s supposed to be negative thirteen degrees tomorrow, so I’m enjoying the Tropical weather while it lasts. Play me a bongo or something.


FAITH: Racist.


RYAN: I didn’t mean it like that.


FAITH: Get in here, man, what are you doing?


RYAN: I’m smoking a J!


FAITH: I know you are, that’s dumb, Nick is going to smell it-Nick’s a bad example.


RYAN: Yeah.


FAITH: Deidra’s going to smell it!


RYAN: Everyone’s too congested to smell, this weather is the perfect time to get high.


FAITH: Fine, do whatever you want. School’s cancelled tomorrow, by the way.


RYAN: For real!?


FAITH: Yeah, I got an e-mail from UVM.


RYAN: Well, fuck this tree then! (Ryan throws his joint away and climbs back into the window and shuts it) I’m going home!


FAITH: You’re going HAM?


RYAN: I’m going…home!


FAITH: Home to go HAM?


RYAN: What does going HAM mean!?


FAITH: I’m not sure anybody knows, but it’s part of the culture now, so just run with it. Also, don’t go home, the roads are icy.


RYAN: No, it’s 25 degrees, they’re going to be icy by morning-MEANING I have time to go HAM! (Ryan grabs some bags and starts packing up. Cut to Ryan driving in his car in the dark, on his way back home. “Bullet” by The Misfits is playing on his stereo. Then he gets a call, and answers it) Hello?


ERIC: (On the phone) Quick, come to my apartment before the roads get icy so we can have babinga night.


RYAN: Babinga, I remember when we said that a lot. Please let it rest in peace.


ERIC: Right next to “nuqqa”.


RYAN: Yep. Changing letters in words. Comedy.


(Cut to Ryan walking up to Eric’s apartment. He knocks on the door, and Eric answers)


ERIC: We don’t want your kind around here.


RYAN: You mean friend-kind?


ERIC: Friend-kind are the worst kind. They act like they’re your friend, and then one minute they turn around and leave an act like they’re somebody else’s friend.


RYAN: isn’t that called just having multiple friends?


(Michael walks over)


MICHAEL: Eric, you sound like Ryan, circa 2013.


RYAN: Yeah, I was a jealous bitch back then, wasn’t I?


MICHAEL: You were.


RYAN: Let me in, I’m losing sperm cells out here.


(Eric lets Ryan in)


ERIC: Yeah, you won’t need them.


RYAN: Hilarious.


ERIC: I’m serious.


RYAN: What?


(Eric puts his hands on Ryan’s shoulders)


ERIC: Dude, I’m serious.


RYAN: What do you mean you’re serious?


ERIC: I’m serious about what I said.


RYAN: How could you possibly be serious?! Just because you made a bad joke, doesn’t mean you can save the moment by claiming you were serious.


ERIC: I stand by it.


(Pan over to Michael)


MICHAEL: Eric has a habit of taking jokes too far. Look at he did to the Febreeze.


(Pan over to the Febreeze wearing a wedding dress while sitting on the coffee table)


RYAN: The fuck?


ERIC: I swear to God, dude, Michael sleep-walks in the middle of the night and puts the Febreeze in bed with him, and now he apparently dresses it to be his wife. It’s sick.


MICHAEL: Dude, there’s no way I do that! This is just a WAY TOO elaborate joke! A weird one, at that!

RYAN: I don’t know man, maybe you’re just crazy.


MICHAEL: My life is falling apart at the seams.


ERIC: I’m serious.


(Cut to Madeline waking up in Britney’s apartment)




(Britney walks in holding a tray with eggs and toast on it)


BRITNEY: Good morning, sleepy head!


MADELINE: I’m in Rhode Island?!


BRITNEY: Oh, so you do recognize the place.


MADELINE: Yeah, how could I forget the apartment you have, in Rhode Island?! Where I lived for over a year?!


BRITNEY: You didn’t live in my apartment-


MADELINE: I lived in Rhode Island, you know what I mean, how did I get here?


BRITNEY: You were sloppy drunk at Adam’s party in Burlington, so I drove you…to Rhode Island.


MADELINE: Instead of my home in Hansbay?




MADELINE: That’s like a four and a half hour drive.


BRITNEY: Well, it’ll be worth it.


MADELINE: Why’s that?


BRITNEY: I’ll get to that briefly, just eat your breakfast.


(Britney sets down the breakfast and Madeline digs in)


MADELINE: Thanks. I have to admit it’s nice being in Rhode Island again.


BRITNEY: It is slightly less cold and miserable here. And my mailman froze into a wonderful statue rather than a limp, frostbitten corpse.


MADELINE: Yeah, that’s…always nice, anyway, what is the reason you dragged me here?

BRITNEY: Well, first, I’m concerned about you.


MADELINE: What? Don’t be concerned with me, concern yourself with Kenneth.


(Kenneth, Britney’s two-year old child, walks in)


KENNETH: Where’s dada?


BRITNEY: Dada’s in Vermont, honey, now go back to your crib.


(Kenneth runs out of the room, laughing)


MADELINE: He can access the crib on his own?


BRITNEY: He just needs to have his ID with him, there’s a scanner.


MADELINE: How does that, work out?


BRITNEY: Sometimes Loyal steals the ID and uses it to sleep in the bed while Kenneth and I are gone. And one time he just ate the ID and is able to get in at all times now.


MADELINE: Hmm. So he’s on the list?




MADELINE: Continue your explanation.


BRITNEY: Right, right. It seems like when you’re around me, and Adam and Scott-


(Madeline clears her throat)


MADELINE: What about Scott?


BRITNEY: Way to make it obvious.


MADELINE: I don’t know want you to know about this.


BRITNEY: You obviously do.


MADELINE: Let’s AVOID the subject of Scott.


BRITNEY: You are the one bringing him up!


MADELINE: I fucked Scott.




MADELINE: Okay, that was an exaggeration.


BRITNEY: Yeah, that’s not what he told me!


MADELINE: He talked to you?


BRITNEY: Yes, he said you drunkenly kissed him.


MADELINE: Yeah, that part happened.


BRITNEY: He also said you drunk-texted him, apologizing for having fucked him.


MADELINE: Okay, apparently I embellished a bit.


BRITNEY: Embellished? He’s the only other person who would know what actually happened!

MADELINE: Ever heard of moonlighting?


BRITNEY: Gaslighting.


MADELINE: Right. You convince someone something happened when it didn’t. Suddenly Scott is bragging to his bros that he got this.


BRITNEY: And how does that benefit you?


MADELINE: I don’t know, I was drunk!

BRITNEY: That’s exactly it. I’m concerned because you’re drinking way more than usual, and I know you’re drinking socially, but some people only smoke crack socially, it doesn’t mean they don’t have a problem.


MADELINE: I guess you’re right. I have to cut down. Especially since I’m pretty sure there must’ve been mescaline in that vodka because of how I saw my family members in the mirror in the bathroom.


BRITNEY: Adam does seem to love watering that cactus. And sometimes he comes home with spines around his mouth.




BRITNEY: But for right now, I’ve found a better use of your time. And it’s called meeting with a publisher to get your poems published!

MADELINE: …Wait, really?!


BRITNEY: Yes! I got a meeting that starts at 3pm! That’s why I brought you to Rhode Island!


MADELINE: Oh my Gosh, that’s incredible! Thanks, Britney!

(Madeline and Britney hug)


BRITNEY: You’re welcome.


MADELINE: What should I wear?


BRITNEY: I don’t know, did you bring clothes when I dragged you unwillingly from Vermont to Rhode Island?


(They stop embracing one another)


MADELINE: No, I didn’t.


BRTINEY: I’ll dip into my supply of pre-pregnancy clothes and find you something.


MADELINE: What about post-pregnancy clothes?


BRITNEY: Oh, those will also be too big for you. Especially the post-partum depression clothes.




(Cut to some Hispanic maids upstairs at the Donahue household, picking up things in the game room, and organizing them, while talking)


MAID: Olivia, usted no creería cuántas monedas que encuentro por aquí. Los estadounidenses ven el dinero como más.


(SUBTITLES: “Olivia, you would not believe how much change I find around here. Americans see money as more of a nuisance than anything else”)


OLIVIA: Confía en mí, Alejandra, yo hago más dinero recogiendo el cambio en las casas de la gente que yo no me pagan por ellos.


(SUBTITLES: “Trust me, Alejandra, I make more money collecting change at people's houses than I do getting paid by them.”)


(They both laugh as Jacob comes in)


JACOB: Hey, have you guys seen a water pipe anywhere?


OLIVIA: No hablamos Inglés.


(SUBTITLES: “We do not speak English”)


JACOB: What? I don’t have a, problem! I just like to get high, YOU have a problem!


(Jacob storms off)


OLIVIA: ¿Cree Hablamos significa problema?


(SUBTITLES: “Does he think hablamos means ‘problem’?”)


ALEJANDRA: Al parecer. Probablemente tomó la Escuela Secundaria española.


(SUBTITLES: “Apparently. He probably took High School Spanish.”)


(Cut to Luke walking into the kitchen. He’s on the phone)


LUKE: Doyle, I don’t know why nobody stole anything, but clearly, your office was ransacked. (Doyle talks a bit, over the phone, but it’s unintelligible) I don’t know why your office smells like chlorine, (Luke looks around nervously) maybe the assailant just got back from the pool, or something. Anyway, listen, I gotta go, bye! (Luke hangs up and then sees eighty dollars on the counter) Kim?


(Kimberly comes in, straightening her hair with a flat-iron)




LUKE: What’s all this money doing here?


KIMBERLY: That’s for the maids.


LUKE: You’re paying them in cash?


KIMBERLY: Yeah. Why?


LUKE: How often are they coming?


KIMBERLY: A few times a week, Jacob, Renee and Madeline ALL live here, and we NONE of us have enough time to keep this place consistently clean. Remember, Ethan and I bought this place in the fall of 2013 when neither Jacob nor Madeline lived here, so we didn’t expect to ever have this many people living here.


LUKE: Didn’t you tell me this house is bigger than your last house?


KIMBERLY: Yes, we up-sized.


LUKE: Why?


KIMBERLY: I don’t know, we just felt that It was right. We even had to deal with a psycho landlady for six months after we bought the place in hilarious and wacky situations that would probably be very entertaining to watch if you were a fly on the wall. Unfortunately, nobody was, so…


LUKE: What are you talking about?


KIMBERLY: Point is, we figured that if we up-sized, worst case scenario, we could host conventions here or something.


LUKE: Great plan. But now you’re paying these women under the table and dodging payroll tax laws!

KIMBERLY: Wow, how comprehensive was your citizenship test?


LUKE: What is the first line in the song “My Country ‘Tis of Thee”?




LUKE: …The first line is “My country ‘Tis of Thee”.


KIMBERLY: Wow, I totally-was gonna say that.


LUKE: Sure. These women are making more than 1,800 dollars a year off of us, so we have to pay payroll taxes on their income.


KIMBERLY: But I’m not telling them what to do, so they’re independent contractors!

(Alejandra walks over to Kimberly)


ALEJANDRA: Senora Altmire-


KIMBERLY: Senorita Altmire.


ALEJANDRA: Triste. I try to clean mirror until silver show like you say, but it no work.


LUKE: Wow.


KIMBERLY: Just keep trying, Alejandra.


(Alejandra walks away)


LUKE: So, you’re telling them what to do.


KIMBERLY: Okay, yes, but if I pay taxes on their income, if I don’t pay them off the books, they could be discovered by the authorities, and deported! I’m too compassionate to let that happen!


LUKE: Do you think DHS is really looking in Vermont for undocumented immigrants?




LUKE: And by the way, how old are Alejandra and Olivia?


KIMBERLY: 34 AND 36 respectively, why?


LUKE: When did they come to this country?


KIMBERLY: I don’t know, 2011, I think.


LUKE: Ouch. They don’t qualify for deferred deportation under Obama’s new immigration policy, meaning they are at risk for deportation.


KIMBERLY: Yeah, and why would we want that? I’m not dodging taxes, I’m saving livelihoods. I’m a hero.


LUKE: You’re still dodging taxes, Kimmy! What if someone finds out that number one, you employee illegal immigrants-


KIMBERLY: Undocumented aliens!


LUKE: That’s, only half politically correct. Anyway, number two, you’re dodging taxes. You could get in a lot of trouble. You’d be like Michael Grimm!

KIMBERLY: Don’t compare me to Michael Grimm, he hid millions from the government!


LUKE: It’s the same principle, Kim.


KIMBERLY: Well, fuck. Now you’ve gotten me into a moral dilemma. If I pay taxes, they might get deported. If I don’t, I might get in trouble. If I fire them, they won’t have a pot to piss in. And they seem to enjoy pissing in the pot I provided for them, out back.


LUKE: I think they would rather use our toilet.


KIMBERLY: No, Jacob and Renee clog it up enough as it is.


LUKE: Oh yeah, Renee’s pregnant.


KIMBERLY: And Jacob keeps losing socks.




KIMBERLY: …So what do I do?


LUKE: Well…


(Muffled voices are heard outside, there seems to be a commotion)


KIMBERLY: There seems to be some sort of commotion outside.


LUKE: Are you sure? It might just be kids-


ALEJANDRA: (Heard from outside) COMMOCION!


LUKE: Yep, there’s commotion!


(Luke heads toward the door)


KIMBERLY: That’s not even the Spanish word for commotion, but I’ll go with it!

(Kimberly follows suit and both go outside to see the neighbor lady from TDEP190 yelling at Alejandra)


NEIGHBOR: Now LISTEN, bub! I’ll have you know that I can report you to the INS, like THAT!

KIMBERLY: WHOA! (Kimberly and Luke go over to them) What are you doing yelling at her?!


NEIGHBOR: She was EXPOSING herself to the whole neighborhood!



LUKE: Is this true, Alejandra?


ALEJANDRA: No, no, I was breastfeeding my nino!


(Pan over to Olivia holding a baby)


OLIVIA: She can no afford a sitter.


KIMBERLY: Wow, you were yelling at her for breastfeeding?!


NEIGHBOR: YES! She can’t do that in her car?! And don’t act like YOU haven’t yelled at people unreasonably before!

LUKE: Doesn’t mean that gives you the right to do it.


KIMBERLY: Yeah, and I haven’t yelled at someone unreasonably before!

LUKE: Well.


KIMBERLY: Well what?


LUKE: You have, but that’s beside the point-


KIMBERLY: When? Name one time!

LUKE: Bloody hell, when you yelled at her kids for having fun!


LUKE: That’s all you asked for, right?!


(The baby in Olivia’s arms starts crying)


NEIGHBOR: Look what you did, you made the baby cry! With your arguing!


OLIVIA: No, ma’am, it’s deaf.


NEIGHBOR: See? You made it deaf!

LUKE: Just get out of here! She has the right to breastfeed her child!


NEIGHBOR: Well, she DOESN’T have the right to be in this country illegally! Now does she?


KIMBERLY: Does she look Canadian to you!?


NEIGHBOR: I’m calling the USCIS!


ALEJANDRA: No! No USCIS! I’m living American dream!


LUKE: Getting paid very little money to work for people who barely acknowledge your existence?


ALEJANDRA: Yes! American dream!

NEIGHBOR: I’m calling them.


(The neighbor walks to her house)


KIMBERLY: Shit. Ladies, get in the house.


(They all get in the house and Luke shuts the door)


LUKE: So are we doing like an Anne Frank thing?


KIMBERLY: NO! You guys need to flee! Here, take your money. (Kimberly grabs the eighty dollars and gives it to them) And get out of here, before they come.


OLIVIA: Gracias, Senorita Altmire.


LUKE: Why’d you guys immigrate from the Mexican border to Vermont anyway?


ALEJANDRA: No time to answer questions, must flee.


OLIVIA: Gracias.


(Alejandra and Olivia, who is carrying the child, go outside and get in their car as Kimberly and Luke watch, and flee the neighborhood. Cut to Ryan, Michael and Eric walking up the stairs at Eric’s apartment complex)


RYAN: Are you sure this is a good idea?


ERIC: Of course man, Devon has a ton of booze in his apartment. As long as we act friendly with him, it shouldn’t feel like we’re just using him for the alcohol.


MICHAEL: Which we, of course, aren’t.


ERIC: No, we are.


MICHAEL: Oh. I thought we might try to convince ourselves that we’re not.


ERIC: Naw, I gave up rationalizing how much of an asshole I am a long time ago.


RYAN: Hey, me too! How do you guys know Devon, even?


ERIC: Back when I first moved here, Michael was visiting the apartment, but didn’t know the code to get in and didn’t have a phone at the time, so Devon came by and let him in.


MICHAEL: And he ended up, hanging out. At Eric’s apartment. For way too long of a time.


ERIC: Really overstayed his welcome, so honestly, he deserves this.


RYAN: Why did he stay so long?


ERIC: I don’t know, but he sat on our couch, smoked our weed, we had to throw our couch out.


RYAN: Why?


ERIC: He wore it out that badly.


RYAN: Wow. Jesus, how many stories does this apartment complex have?!


ERIC: We’re here! (Eric, Michael and Ryan walk towards a door and Eric knocks on it, and clears his throat) Uh, pizza man delivery here.


MICHAEL: Were you trying to make a joke there?


ERIC: Yeah, totally regret it.


(Devon, a slightly overweight dude with glasses, opens the door)


DEVON: Oh, hey Eric. Michael. What’s up?


RYAN: And I’m Ryan, by the way.


(Devon nods)


DEVON: You definitely look it.


RYAN: What?


DEVON: What’s up?


ERIC: We were wondering what you were up to, man.


DEVON: Oh, me and- (some friend of Devon’s walks over to the door holding a bag of pringles) Chester were about to watch some Game Of Thrones. Why?


RYAN: Hi Chester.


(Chester, who has a hesitant look on his face, puts his hand up)


ERIC: Oh, well we were wondering if you wanted to be cool and get drunk with us, but I guess we’ll come back when you’re older-


(Eric begins to turn around)


DEVON: N-n-n-no! I have alcohol, plenty!

MICHAEL: Entire beers?


DEVON: Entire Vodkas!

RYAN: Nice!

(They all come in and Devon shuts the door. Chester starts shaking his head while anxiously looking at Devon)


DEVON: Chester, it’s alright, they’re just other friends of mine.


RYAN: Since when do Pringles come in bags?


CHESTER: Limited edition.


ERIC: Now he’s talkin’. (Eric puts his arm around Chester) I like this guy, and I like the friendship we’ve all cultivated. Now let’s turn up.


(Eric walks to the kitchen)


DEVON: Do you guys want Cape Cods?


RYAN: What are we, golfers?


DEVON: It’s vodka and Cranberry Juice.


(Eric opens Devon’s fridge, to see a lot of vodka bottles in there)


ERIC: Whoa, there’s actually a lot of vodka in here.


DEVON: Yeah, don’t drink it all.


RYAN: I don’t think a widowed elephant could drink that much booze.


CHESTER: What happened to the Elephant’s wife?


RYAN: It’s a figure of speech, dude, relax.


CHESTER: Aww, I’m upset now.


(Eric hands Chester a Cape Cod)


ERIC: Then have one of these.


CHESTER: Alright!

(Chester takes it and sips it. Eric hands out Cape Cods to everyone)


RYAN: Smells nice.


ERIC: Yep. Here’s to alcohol. Even if we have nothing in common right now, we will soon. We’ll all be drunk. Cheers!


(They all say “cheers” and clink their glasses before starting to drink them. Cut to all of them sitting in Devon’s living room, talking)


MICHAEL: Hmm, this Cape Cod is tolerable. Got any weed?


ERIC: Dude, be appreciative. We don’t always have to smoke weed, we smoked weed earlier today.


DEVON: Yeah, man, wait until it’s legal here. It’ll only be a matter of time, did you see how D.C. legalized it this morning?


RYAN: I saw that! And the Mayor of DC is being threatened by Republicans in Congress who say she’ll be violating federal law by following D.C. law.


ERIC: Yeah, Jason Chaffetz was saying that. He’s like that asshole narc nobody likes who thinks he has power. (Nasaly voice) “I’m gonna do a citizens arrest, you guys!”


(They all laugh)


RYAN: As if Congress has any prosecutorial powers, and as if the Justice Department would actually arrest the Mayor of DC, give me a break.


MICHAEL: Basically all Jason Chaffetz is saying is (Higher pitch, slightly accented voice, like from TDEP205) “This is illegal, you know”.


ERIC: Michael Bingaman, ladies and gentleman, he has brought memes from far and wide to share them with the townspeople.


MICHAEL: I consider myself a connoisseur.


DEVON: Well, I’m just pleased as punch that DC is being allowed to experiment, I think federalism is part of what makes this country so great. Now only if our President loved America like I do.


RYAN: Oh yeah, Giuliani’s “Obama doesn’t love America” shtick. He also said Obama “doesn’t love you and he doesn’t love me”. But can you really count Rudy Giuliani as part of America? Isn’t he just an unincorporated territory?


DEVON: Yeah, that hair is clearly not developed enough to be considered part of America.


RYAN: Right. I don’t know, I think Rudy’s a 9/11-exploiting piece of shit, if Obama doesn’t love America, then Rudy is the boyfriend that emotionally manipulates it into staying with him, but deep down inside “loves” America.


MICHAEL: Agreed. But how can Obama love America when he vetoed the Keystone Pipeline? The ONE job that would’ve put every idle hand in the country to work, plugging up leaks, cleaning up spills and building an ark for the great flood?


RYAN: True, he is for sure an unloving bastard in that regard.


CHESTER: Whoa, it’s snowing outside!


(They all look at the window to see it is indeed snowing outside)


MICHAEL: That it is.


DEVON: Hopefully this means my landlord will not be able to come pick up my rent.


ERIC: Speaking of which, don’t mention to anyone that Michael lives with me, because then Michael would have to pay hem rent.


DEVON: I feel ya, damn, they really try to squeeze every last dime out of the workin’ man, huh?


MICHAEL: Well, I don’t work, but-


RYAN: And I’m not a man, I’m a gender fluid Japandroid.


MICHAEL: He wasn’t even talking to you.


RYAN: And I don’t work either.


DEVON: Point is, us working stiffs are being blazed up the ass. I mean, even if you don’t work, how many hours do you spend in class a week, Michael?


ERIC: Yeah, Michael, how many?


(Eric looks at Michael with a glare. Ryan looks at Michael too)


RYAN: Yeah, I want to know as well.


MICHAEL: …A lot?


DEVON: Exactly, we’re being fucked from womb to tomb, all because of the color of our collar.


RYAN: You mean this- (Ryan takes out a spiked choke collar) type of collar?


DEVON: I need to get drunker before this conversation can continue. (Devon chugs his Cape Cod, to all their surprise. He puts it down) There we go. Drink up, boys.


(They all shrug and starts chugging. Cut to all of them standing around near Devon’s kitchen, all drunk and slurring their words)


ERIC: Listen, listen, for real, guys, have you ever heard of the biscuit game?


DEVON: No, I’ve not, what is it?


(Eric starts laughing)


ERIC: It’s-it’s this game, right? It’s where-


(Eric laughs)


RYAN: Get to it, man.


ERIC: Okay, sorry, sorry, alright, it’s where you have a biscuit, and you throw it in the middle of a circle of guys, right?




ERIC: And then all the guys jerk off on it.


(Devon laughs)


DEVON: How is that a game?!


ERIC: I’m not done, I’m not done, whoever cums on it last, has to eat it!


(They all laugh)


RYAN: Due, how’d-how’d that even start?!

ERIC: I think it began as a conventional circle jerk-


RYAN: Right.


ERIC: And then someone was eating a biscuit and was like, “let’s make this interesting”.


MICHAEL: It wasn’t interesting already?


ERIC: No, it was one of those circle jerks where everybody in the group jerked off, like, six hours earlier.


MICHAEL: Oh, I see.


ERIC: Yeah.


DEVON: Dude. Ryan, I want to know, what’s your major?


RYAN: Broadcast communications.




RYAN: No idea. I wanna be a musician, but in order to pursue a music major, I have to masquerade under this major first so I can get some classes out of the way.


CHESTER: What kind classes?


RYAN: Math.


CHESTER: Not your forte?


RYAN: Nope, not even a little bit. As someone who enjoys animes about robots powered by friendship, math is just way too abstract for me.


CHESTER: What specifically gives you trouble about it?


RYAN: …(Ryan holds back a burp) I don’t know, man, I don’t really want to talk about it.


CHESTER: Oh, it’s cool, we don’t have to. Sorry.


RYAN: It’s fine. Let’s talk about Michael’s hardest class.


MICHAEL: Wow, asshole.


RYAN: Science, right?




RYAN: Oh, then let’s not talk about it.


DEVON: I’m gonna smoke a cigarette outside. (Devon takes a pack of cigarettes off his desk, takes one out and walks toward the sliding glass window looking out to his balcony) Be back in a second.


(Devon goes out to the balcony, where it’s snowing. Michael looks at Eric and bites his lip)


ERIC: Michael, no!

RYAN: Is Michael thinking what I’m thinking?


ERIC: Ryan, NO! I’m grounding you two from being edgy!

MICHAEL: We only smoke when we’re drunk, Eric, hop off our respective Ds.


ERIC: I don’t respect your Ds.


RYAN: Respect the D!


MICHAEL: We’ll be back.


RYAN: Yeah.


(Ryan and Michael walk to the balcony and you can see them asking Devon for cigarettes, which he gives them. He lights then both up as Eric shakes his head)


ERIC: Dumbasses.


CHESTER: I know, man, I had to quit smoking after my mom told me it would make me go blind.


ERIC: What’d she say about masturbating?


CHESTER: That it’d give me cancer.




(Cut to Madeline and Britney waiting in a publisher’s office. They are sitting in front of his desk in an expansive office with plate-glass windows and a sitting area and full bar. Loyal is beside Britney, sitting and panting)


MADELINE: I hate it when they just leave you in their office, it’s like, can’t we wait in the waiting room?


BRITNEY: I don’t know, I think it’s nice. Look at the view of downtown Providence.


(Madeline looks out the window)


MADELINE: It is pretty nice. What are these magazines on his desk? (Madeline picks up one of them) This one is a profile of John Edwards as a potential presidential candidate- he treats his own office like a waiting room.


BRITNEY: Don’t focus on that, focus on how you present your idea.


(One of the paintings on the wall, a painting of a 17th century general who likes a lot like Ibrahim, opens and the publishing executive walks out of a compartment behind it, wearing a suit. Madeline and Britney stand up in shock)


MADELINE: Oh my Gosh!


(Loyal barks)




PUBLISHING EXEC: Hello there, ladies! Didn’t expect me to come out of the painting, did you?


BRITNEY: No we did not, why did you?


PUBLISHING EXEC: To make a point. We value creativity here at Emperor Publishing. We ask our textbook writers to get creative with their writing, and that’s why they say that Jesus invented the wheel.


(The exec sits behind his desk)


MADELINE: Interesting, well, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Madeline Donahue.


(Madeline shakes the executive’s hand)


PUBLISHING EXEC: Doug Carpenter.


BRITNEY: And of course, Doug, you know me.


(Doug stops shaking Madeline’s hand)


DOUG: I do?


BRITNEY: Yeah, my dad works for you.


DOUG: I wasn’t aware he had a daughter.


BRITNEY: Yeah, I guess he probably doesn’t talk about his personal life much, he’s like that.


DOUG: No, he’s gone out of his way to mention how he doesn’t have kids.


BRITNEY: Jesus. He brought me to work one day when I was eleven!

DOUG: Oh, I remember that! You’re as foxy today as you were on that day.


BRITNEY: Pardon?


DOUG: I didn’t mean that in a, weird way, anyhow, Madeline, you have a book you want to pitch me?


MADELINE: Yes, it’s a book of poetry. I don’t have a name for it yet, but I have countless poems I could compile into this book.


DOUG: Well by God! Let’s hear one.


MADELINE: Okay, of course! (Madeline clears her throat) Ransack the garden and spoil the plants. Erect their gelatin backs and give them firm stance. Stand only for what you can stand! Everyone else must make do with the shirt on their back and the dirt in their hand. Clamor, clamor, Rand! Rand! Rand! Elect anyone who can do a headstand! The gel in their hair makes them spin on their heads with their feet in the air and their hands in their pockets, protecting the money that funds all the rockets, the children see plummeting safely to Earth, to take them to Heaven, because it’s all that they’re worth. Playgrounds in Palestine are blown to absolute shreds while suits in New York hedge bets on new threads. A three-piece suit for them, bulletproof vests for the rest. Crisis after crisis, with ISIS and with bison, we slaughtered them in the millions. And now it’s them who’ve fallen. So rain hellfire and loose change upon the deserts of terror, all those dead kids are a clerical error, cold robots cast cold patches on hot deserts of sand, then send death from above, then fly away like Peter Pan, bringing Wendy back home so she can rest knowing that America is in the right, and so is Boeing. So next time you see a Robo-Pan in the sky, give him a wink and bid your freedoms goodbye.


DOUG: Wow.


(Doug applauds, as does Britney)




DOUG: You jammed that like it was nothing. Here, let’s move over to the couch area. (Doug gets up and Madeline and Britney follow him to the couch area, where they sit down on couches) Do you guys want something to drink?


MADELINE: Like what?


DOUG: I have- (Doug gets up and goes over to his mini-bar) Scotch, Jack Daniels, Svedka and OJ-


MADELINE: Oh, no, I’m fine.


DOUG: Come on! It’s how you rub shoulders in this business.


(An employee comes in holding a coloring book and a Scotch. He is clearly intoxicated)


EMPLOYEE: I finished the coloring book, sir!


DOUG: Okay, re-draw it 5,000 times and have it shipped.



(He stumbles out of the room)


DOUG: Our copier is broken.


BRITNEY: Then have it fixed?


DOUG: So, what do you say?


MADELINE: I’m a teetotaler.


DOUG: Listen, so am I, sweetheart. But when my wife isn’t around, I’m banging back Scotches like racks of ribs.




(Doug pours a drink for himself)


DOUG: What about you, Britney?


BRITNEY: I’m fine, too.


MADELINE: You know what? I’m not driving, I guess a Cape Cod wouldn’t hurt.


BRITNEY: Maddie.


DOUG: Cape Cod, nice choice!


(Doug pours some vodka into a cup and then some cranberry juice and hands the drink to Madeline)


MADELINE: Thank you.


(Doug sits down)


DOUG: You’re welcome. You know, I see something in you, Maddie. That poem displayed an artistry which few possess in these times. But you have it in spades. I’m sure my window washer agrees.


(Pan over to a window washer suspended on a platform outside the building, washing the windows. He gives them a thumbs-up)


BRITNEY: He can hear you?


DOUG: I talk to him through the window. He’s my confidant, he knows all my secrets. And if I tap on the glass, he freaks out, like a fish in an aquarium. It’s pretty hilarious, watch!


(Doug goes over and taps on the glass and the window washer becomes startled and covers his ears)




(Doug laughs and sits down. Madeline and Britney chuckle)


DOUG: Such a spaz. But anyway- (Doug puts his hand on Madeline’s hand) I believe in your dream. And I think we can work out a book deal here. (Loyal starts growling, and Doug removes his hand from Madeline’s hand) Whoa, I seem to have pissed off your dog, there.




MADELINE: I’m very flattered by your offer.


DOUG: I’m very flattered by your acceptance.


MADELINE: However, I can’t accept unless you promise me one thing.


DOUG: Anything.


MADELINE: Promise me that we won’t get romantically involved.


DOUG: What? Whoa! Who said anything about that?


MADELINE: You just held my hand, essentially.


DOUG: That was taken out of context-


MADELINE: Doug, just, I want to know that you actually believe in this project.


DOUG: Fine, fine, no romantic entanglements! None!


BRITNEY: None with me either.


DOUG: Uh, okay?


(A secretary peeks her head in)


SECRETARY: Can I be included in that deal?


DOUG: Go back to your desk! (The Secretary leaves) Do we have a deal?


(Madeline smiles)




(Madeline shakes Doug’s hand)


DOUG: So. (Doug leans back) Besides drones, what is the theme of this book of poems?


MADELINE: It’s a tribute to loss. It’s a tribute to the grieving process, and how we as humans, need to let ourselves go through it. And not repress it. Because we’ll only make it worse. And-is that window washer talking to a life-sized scuba diver figurine?


(Pan over to the window washer washing the windows and talking to a life-sized scuba diver figurine)


WINDOW WASHER: So then he told me how he’s had bicurious thoughts in the past-


(Doug turns around)


DOUG: HEY! Stop that or I’ll tap on the glass again!




(Cut to Kimberly sitting on the couch. Luke is pacing around in front of her, rubbing his temples)




LUKE: What indeed. Kim, I don’t know about you sometimes.


KIMBERLY: What does that mean?


LUKE: You never-you don’t practice what you preach! You preach all this liberal compassion and then you, then you yell at kids or you dodge taxes or you, EMBEZZLE FROM THE HOA?!




LUKE: YEAH! I found out about THAT recently! Dug up some two and a half year old documents from your files! Jesus, Kim, I mean, this is a RECURRING THING with you!

KIMBERLY: I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry, Ethan rubbed off on me, I’m not proud of it-


LUKE: ETHAN IS GONE! YOU’RE WITH ME NOW! AND HE DIDN’T CAUSE YOU TO DODGE TAXES! Bloody Hell, you can’t blame everything on everyone else, have you ever considered, for a SECOND that you might be entirely in the wrong?


(Kimberly stands up)


KIMBERLY: Trying to keep those women from prosecution is EXACTLY the kind of liberal compassion I exude, you should be MAD AT OUR NEIGHBOR!






KIMBERLY: STOP screaming at me, okay?! It’s not warranted.


LUKE: You’re right. I should just, stay in a hotel tonight.


(Luke walks into the bedroom)




(Luke comes out of the bedroom with a grocery bag with some stuff in it)


LUKE: No, I think this is good, if we have some time apart, we can clear our minds and re-evaluate things.


KIMBERLY: That’s all your taking?


LUKE: That’s all I brought. Remember? I never moved in here, I just brought an overnight bag that has lasted eight months.


KIMBERLY: Where’s all your stuff?


LUKE: Storage. So I’m going to live in a hotel. Goodbye.


(Luke walks towards the door)



LUKE: LIMBERLY! (Luke opens the door and slams it. Cut to Luke at the reception desk of a hotel, looking shocked) A NIGHT’S STAY IS HOW MUCH!?


RECEPTIONIST: Why are you yelling that question at me?


LUKE: Sorry, how much is a night’s stay?


RECEPTIONIST: 300 dollars.



(Cut to Luke walking down a hallway of an air conditioned storage building with a key. He goes to a storage door, and unlocks it and rolls the door up. He then walks inside to see some furniture and stacks of various boxes. He closes the door behind him, which causes everything to go dark, so he turns on a propane light and sits down in a chair and starts reading. Cut to Ryan, Michael and Eric talking to Devon and Chester in Devon’s apartment)


ERIC: Hey, man, we’ve had a ton of fun, but we should probably get out of your hair.


DEVON: No, it’s fine, you guys can stay if you want.


ERIC: Naw, man, you guys were having bro night and we just barged in and we drank all your booze and these two shitheads smoked your cigarettes, so I don’t want to impose.


CHESTER: Seriously, it’s alright, you can stay.

(Suddenly, Ryan, Michael and Eric are gone, and the saloon doors of Devon’s apartment are flapping back and forth)


DEVON: Wow, they took off fast.


CHESTER: Since when do you have saloon doors?


(Cut to Ryan, Michael and Eric stumbling into Eric’s apartment)


ERIC: Holy shit, we’re wasted.


(Eric lies on the carpet, while Ryan and Michael crash on the couch)


MICHAEL: Ugh, my stomach feels upset.


RYAN: Dude, that suuucks. Want me to rub it?


MICHAEL: No! Just get me my E-cig. (Ryan hands Michael his e-cig) Ugh, why did I smoke a cigarette tonight? I have an e-cig!

RYAN: I don’t know man, that was dumb.


ERIC: I told you!


MICHAEL: I’m so dumb. Why do I do this? I never go to my noon class.


RYAN: Never?


MICHAEL: Never. It’s so stupid. I’m such a loser, why can’t I just get up and go to a NOON class?


RYAN: Dude, don’t be so hard on yourself-


MICHAEL: I haven’t been hard ENOUGH on myself. Jesus, it would be easier if I didn’t feel so lousy all the time.


RYAN: Lousy like a goddamn phony, Holden Caulfield?


MICHAEL: Dude, stop making jokes! I’m serious, I feel like-I’m an adult, right?


RYAN: Yeah.


MICHAEL: But I don’t FEEL like one, I feel like there’s this, five year old who’s controlling all of my decisions, and just endlessly fucking my life up.


(Eric stands up and grabs Michael by the collar)


ERIC: MICHAEL! I am not going to let you miss your 12pm ANY longer!

MICHAEL: Don’t let me! Please, I beg of you!


ERIC: I will not let you miss it! (Ryan looks on in awe) If you miss that 12pm ever again, I will LITERALLY rape you!


MICHAEL: Just start punching me in the face if I resist going to class, okay?








(Eric lets go and lies on the floor. Ryan sits on the couch, in stunned silence. A portion of “Nathalie Neal” by Swans begins playing. Cut to Ryan making coffee in his dorm one morning. His phone says it is 8am on February 26th, 2015. He pours milk in his coffee and stirs it. He checks his e-mail and there is an e-mail with the subject line “UVM closed Wednesday due to weather conditions”. He sees this, and looks somewhat disappointed. Cut to Kimberly sitting on the couch in her house, eating a cheese stick. She is watching “The Bachelor” on ABC. She shakes her head as she’s watching it, and turns it off. She then rests her head on her pillow, and begins to sleep on her own couch. Cut to Madeline on her laptop, late at night, in Rhode Island. She’s smiling as she’s typing. Loyal walks into the room and Madeline starts petting him. Madeline thinks for a second, and then grabs a leash and ties Loyal to the chair she’s sitting at. Loyal rests at Madeline’s feet as she continues typing, and the camera zooms out. Cut to Michael asleep on the pull-out in Eric’s apartment. Eric walks into the room and places the FeBreeze container right next to Michael, and then slaps him, causing him to wake up as the song ends)


MICHAEL: The fuck-


ERIC: Wake up!


(Cut to black)



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