“I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted. Every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed and all flesh shall see it together”
-Martin Luther King Jr.
(We start with Ethan’s father, Leonard Donahue, at his desk in November 1965, wearing a 60s style suit, smoking a cigarette and listening to a transistor radio playing the song “I can’t get no satisfaction” by the Rolling Stones. After a little while he turns the transistor radio off and buzzes his secretary)
LEONARD: Samantha, could you come in here, please?
SAMANTHA: (over intercom) Yes, Mr. Donahue. (Samantha comes in wearing a 60s style secretary outfit) Yes, sir?
LEONARD: Hi, do you know what the song “I Can’t Get Any Satisfaction” by the Rock and Rolling Stones means?
SAMANTHA: It’s “I Can’t Get No Satisfaction” by the Rolling Stones, and why do you ask?
LEONARD: I don’t know, it’s just…what can’t he get satisfaction from?
LEONARD: School? Work?
LEONARD: Charity? Baking?
SAMANTHA: It’s uh-
LEONARD: What is it?
SAMANTHA: He can’t get satisfaction from sex, sir.
SAMANTHA: Yeah, he can’t get satisfaction from consumerism or sex. Remember? “I can’t get no satisfaction, I can’t get no girlie action”.
LEONARD: I thought he meant like, he can’t get good food from his girlfriend or something.
SAMANTHA: How would he mean that?
LEONARD: Wow, sex? How can he say that on the radio?
SAMANTHA: It’s a changing world, sir.
LEONARD: Yeah, there are interracial couples on TV now.
SAMANTHA: Really? Who?
LEONARD: Lucille Ball and Ricky Ricardo.
SAMANTHA: Wow, I never thought of that. I guess if it’s not a white and a Negro I don’t see it that way.
LEONARD: Yeah. Anyway, gather everyone in the conference room, stat!
SAMANTHA: Yes sir.
(Samantha leaves and Leonard puts out his cigarette. Cut to Leonard in the conference room, talking to Spencer Sarandon, father of Brian Sarandon, some guy, some other guy, a 61-year old David Bingaman, great grandfather of Anthony Bingaman, some other fucking guy and another fucking guy )
LEONARD: Listen up, people. We’re going to make some changes come 1966. Fashion is changing, so we shall too. I am hereby announcing that Donahue Incorporated is no longer manufacturing or selling poodle skirts.
SPENCER: That’s half my work!
LEONARD: Well, that’s not my problem, Mr. Sarandon. But yeah, I’ll reassign you to another project.
SPENCER: So it is your problem.
LEONARD: Yeah, technically. Anyway, we have got to adapt to the times. It’s not 1955 anymore. We need mini-skirts, pillbox hats, Beatles haircuts-
MAN: How do we sell haircuts?
LEONARD: Shut up, Cole. We need short suit jackets with wide ties for the men and drainpipe jeans for the women.
DAVID: How about dresses that come off the floor to show a little ankle?
LEONARD: (Sarcastically) Wow, that’s a real innovation there. IF IT WAS 1915! C’mon, people! Let’s take our heads out of the sand of fifty years ago and let’s put our heads in today’s sand!
COLE: David was the only one who suggested that. He’s clearly out of touch with today’s styles. David, why don’t you just retire? You’re 71!
DAVID: I’ll retire when I damn well feel like it. Ooh, how about cloche hats?
LEONARD: Oh my God! Listen people, if we’re going to modernize as a clothing company, we need fresh blood.
MAN 2: What about the Negro that applied here the other day?
LEONARD: Excuse me, Zach?
ZACH: There was a Negro who applied here the other day, he’s only twenty-two, he could have a fresh outlook on everything.
LEONARD: Have we ever hired Negros before?
ZACH: Negros clean this office at night.
LEONARD: Jesus. I should start locking my door, but yeah, I’ll look into him. Okay, everybody, meeting adjourned. Come to me with ideas!
(Everybody starts to walk out. Cut to Leonard’s wife Lynn sitting on the couch, nine months pregnant, watching the news on a very small television. Patrick White’s father Albert is reporting)
ALBERT WHITE: Hello, and welcome to the Hansbay evening news. Tonight, it is official; Republican John Lindsay has won in the New York Mayor’s race. He will, in less than two months, be sworn in as the 103rd Mayor of New York City. In his acceptance speech, he indicated that Michigan Governor George Romney can go (clears throat) fornicate with himself. That is so strange; he wasn’t even running against Romney. In other news, a Quaker named Norman Morrison lit himself on fire in front of the Pentagon, right below Defense Secretary Robert McNamara’s office in protest of the war in Vietnam. He died of his injuries unfortunately. He was 32.
(Leonard comes in holding a briefcase and wearing a fedora. He sits it down, leans over the couch and kisses Lynn on the lips)
LYNN: Hi, Leonard. How was work?
(Leonard comes over and sits down on the couch, next to Lynn)
LEONARD: Awful. Nobody at work knows how to think current. And you have to know how to think current to get ahead in the clothing industry. We’re number six in the top ten companies.
LYNN: Well, look on the bright side; you have a hopelessly pregnant wife at home.
LEONARD: Why do you still have your shoes on?
LYNN: Oh. Sorry.
(Lynn kicks her shoes off)
LEONARD: Now, can you cook eggs for the kids?
(Lynn gets up and walks to the kitchen)
LEONARD: Keep those shoes off.
LYNN: I know!
(6-year old Paul Donahue and 3-year old Allison Donahue rush in and jump on Leonard)
LEONARD: Oh! Hey, little Pauly and little Ally. What did you guys do today in school?
ALLISON: I’m not in school, daddy!
LEONARD: Oh yeah.
PAUL: I learned about Archduke Ferdinand being shot in the jugular fifty years ago!
LEONARD: Wow, aren’t you in first grade?
LEONARD: Well, that is really early to be learning about World War I.
PAUL: There was another one?
(Leonard gets up and leaves)
PAUL: That was weird.
(Leonard walks into the kitchen while Lynn is cooking eggs)
LEONARD: Hey, did you talk to the doctor?
LYNN: Yes, he said I’m not due for another week or two.
LEONARD: Okay, good, because my dad is sick, so we need to fly to Jackson tomorrow afternoon, after I take care of some stuff at work. Pack your bags; we leave at 3PM from Burlington Municipal airport.
LYNN: Wow, thanks for the notice.
LEONARD: I’m sorry, but this came up suddenly, my dad is old.
LYNN: He is seventy.
LEONARD: Yeah, and the life expectancy is sixty-six.
LYNN: What’s wrong with him?
LYNN: Could you be more specific about the nature of his affliction?
LEONARD: He’s suffering from old timers.
LYNN: That’s not what it’s called. What is he really suffering from?
LEONARD: Bubonic plague.
LEONARD: No, okay? Nothing’s wrong with him, you just…you never want to see my parents, and I want you to see them.
LYNN: I don’t like your parents that much; Leonard and they don’t like me.
LEONARD: They don’t like you because you’re a Yankee.
LYNN: Yeah, and I can’t really change that, can I?
LEONARD: You can stop being such an ardent supporter of Medicare, that socialist filth.
LYNN: Medicare is the only reason we’re not paying for your parent’s health insurance.
LEONARD: I can benefit from it and still bitch about it, don’t say I can’t!
LYNN: You can’t.
LEONARD: I said you couldn’t. Listen, can you come? It would mean a lot to me.
LYNN: (Sighs) Fine.
(Leonard kisses her and leaves the room. Cut to Boston, Massachusetts, where Kay Altmire is walking down the street with Joseph Altmire. Kay and Joseph are Kimberly’s parents. They are holding hands and licking ice cream cones. Kay is wearing a pillbox hat, a mini-skirt and a shirt while Joseph is wearing a white button-up shirt with short sleeves, some gray slacks, dress shoes and a brown fedora)
JOSEPH: You know what? I never want to have kids.
KAY: You said it. Why would I want kids to ruin this swell time?
JOSEPH: Exactly. I mean, what if the kid turns out to be disfigured, or ugly, or queer, or a Negro? What would I do then?
KAY: How would the kid turn out to be a Negro if you’re having it with me?
JOSEPH: I don’t know, isn’t it a random chance?
KAY: I think you have a poor understanding of genetics.
JOSEPH: I’m 25, give me a break.
KAY: Still, I would think-
(They happen upon a civil rights protest going on outside a building, with hundreds of Negros, priests and some white people walking around in a circle protesting a business. Kay and Joseph walk over there)
KAY: What’s going on over here?
PROTESTOR: This business here won’t hire colored folk!
JOSEPH: Then go apply somewhere else.
PROTESTOR: I should have the right to apply here!
WHITE PROTESTOR: Yeah, there should be cheaper suits here!
WHITE PROTESTOR: I’m chanting along with you guys!
PROTESTOR: We’re protesting that this place won’t hire Negros.
WHITE PROTESTOR: Oh. I thought we were protesting high prices.
PROTESTOR: We’ve been chanting “LET NEGROS HAVE A CHANCE” for like, forty minutes.
WHITE PROTESTOR: I thought you meant let Negros have a chance at a decent deal.
PROTESTOR: We specifically chanted “STOP DENYING NEGROS THE RIGHT TO APPLY FOR WORK HERE”.
WHITE PROTESTOR: Ah. Did not hear that.
WHITE PROTESTOR: I’m gonna go.
KAY: Don’t you guys have the Civil Rights Act they passed last year?
PROTESTOR: Yeah, but President Johnson and Governor Volpe ain’t got the tools to enforce it.
KAY: What an injustice.
PROTESTOR: It is.
KAY: What’s your name?
KAY: Nice to meet you, Darren. I’m Kay. Kay Altmire.
DARREN: Nice to meet you, Kay Altmire.
JOSEPH: Kay, can we go?
KAY: Um, sure. How can I get in contact with you?
DARREN: Contact the Boston Chapter of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People. Oldest chapter in America, running fifty-four years strong.
JOSEPH: Okay, she’ll be sure to do that.
KAY: I really will.
JOSEPH: Let’s go.
(They walk the other way)
JOSEPH: What the hell are you doing?
KAY: What are you talking about?
JOSEPH: You were basically fucking that guy!
KAY: Excuse me?
JOSEPH: You were kissing his black ass and taking names.
KAY: You’re confusing sayings.
JOSEPH: Whatever, you shouldn’t act like that in front of men, he could rape you.
KAY: Joseph, he doesn’t even know my name.
JOSEPH: He’s going to once he knows your name.
(Cut to Leonard in his office, typing on his typewriter. Cole comes in)
COLE: Hey Leonard.
(Leonard stops typing and turns around)
COLE: I just wanted to apologize for not working hard enough to modernize our clothing line.
LEONARD: Oh, that’s okay, just try to think forward.
(Cole takes out a teddy bear and puts it on Leonard’s desk)
LEONARD: …What the hell is that?
COLE: That is my apology gift.
COLE: Great. I will see you later.
LEONARD: Yeah…(Cole leaves) What the fuck?
(His secretary buzzes him)
SAMANTHA: Mr. Donahue, Mr. Higgins is here to see you.
LEONARD: Send him in.
(A 30-year old Kenneth Higgins comes in. He is a Negro, obviously)
KENNETH: Hello, Leonard. It’s nice to meet you.
(Kenneth and Leonard shake hands)
LEONARD: Likewise. Have a seat. (Kenneth has a seat) So, what do you know about designing clothes?
KENNETH: Well, I worked for Brooks Brothers while I was living in Birmingham, until I got lynched by the Klan.
LEONARD: Excuse me?
KENNETH: I was lynched by the Ku Klux Klan.
LEONARD: And you survived?
KENNETH: Yes, they long-drop hanged me from a pepper tree and my spinal cord was snapped right away.
LEONARD: Wow…that’s…how did you survive that?
KENNETH: Can we focus on the job, please?
LEONARD: Oh yeah, definitely, sorry. Um, so how will your transfer your experience working at Brooks Brothers to-I mean, I’m almost positive it’s impossible to survive a snapped spinal cord.
KENNETH: Listen, after my spinal cord snapped, I got out of it, I’m like a colored Harry Houdini.
LEONARD: Harry Houdini never hung himself as part of his act, I don’t think.
KENNETH: He never hanged himself as part of his act. A picture is hung, a person is hanged.
LEONARD: My apologies. Anyway, we should move on.
LEONARD: How will your experience at Brooks Brothers transfer over to Donahue Incorporated?
KENNETH: I will design clothes for Negro youths. Clothes that colored folk will get behind, clothes that white folk would never touch.
LEONARD: Like what, for example?
KENNETH: I want every Nubian in the United States to look like Malcolm X.
LEONARD: So, dead?
KENNETH: Excuse me?
LEONARD: I’m, sorry about that.
KENNETH: I want every quadroon in America to look like a member of the Nation of Islam!
LEONARD: Where are you getting these terms for Negros? Nubian? Quadroon?
KENNETH: Don’t you see I have a dream?
LEONARD: I guess. I don’t know, I think people might get frightened if coloreds start dressing like Muslims. Wouldn’t they have to be Muslim to do that?
KENNETH: Not necessarily.
LEONARD: Listen, Kenneth, that all seems very ambitious. We’re looking for-
KENNETH: I thought you wanted ambitious. Someone who would modernize your po-dunk clothing line. But I was obviously mistaken, I’ll go.
LEONARD: Okay, go.
KENNETH: …I did not expect you to agree with that, it was a strategy I was using.
KENNETH: Listen, I have heart. I want to be in the clothing industry. The outfits I design will be on the cover of Gentleman’s Quarterly.
LEONARD: You know what, kid?
KENNETH: We’re the same age.
LEONARD: You have moxie. You’ll start Monday. Be here at nine sharp and buy a decent suit. (Leonard takes out a one hundred dollar bill signed by Treasury Secretary Henry H. Fowler and gives it to Kenneth, who accepts) There you go.
KENNETH: I guarantee you sir; you will not be let down.
LEONARD: Okay. Go get ‘em, sport.
(Kenneth shakes his hand and leaves the room. Cole comes back in)
COLE: Hey Leonard.
COLE: Listen, I’m sorry about me giving you the bear earlier, that was weird.
LEONARD: Yeah, really, really weird.
COLE: Right. So, here is a token of my apologetic attitude.
(Cole takes out another bear and puts it on Leonard’s chest)
LEONARD: Wow that completely defeats the point. (Cole leaves) What the hell is wrong with him?
(Cut to Leonard and Lynn on an American Airlines flight)
LYNN: Can we trust that woman to look after Paul and Allison?
LEONARD: Of course, we’ve used her many times.
LYNN: I don’t want her having those “rave parties” I’ve been hearing about.
(A 31-year old moderately attractive woman with brown hair walks over with a cart full of drinks and food)
STEWARDESS: Can I get you anything?
LYNN: I’ll have some Coca-Cola, please.
STEWARDESS: Right away. (The stewardess gives her a Coca-Cola in a glass bottle and opens it for her) Anything else?
LEONARD: Yes, when can we smoke?
STEWARDESS: Absolutely, Mr. Donahue.
MAN BEHIND HIM: Sir, actually, could you not? I don’t want a bunch of smoke in an enclosed aluminum tube.
LEONARD: This is America, boy-o. If you don’t like it, you can go back to the Soviet Union.
(A bunch of smokers verbally agree and then light up cigarettes)
MAN BEHIND HIM: I’m from Connecticut.
LYNN: Shut up, you red.
(Cut to Leonard and Lynn exiting exiting the gate after arriving at Jackson Municipal Airport)
LEONARD: Aw, Jackson Municipal. I lost my virginity here.
LEONARD: Gate 7B.
LYNN: Okay…care to expand on that somewhat?
(Cut to Leonard and Lynn pulling up to a country house in a field in a 1959 Cadillac. They get out to greet Nicholas and Morgan Donahue who are Leonard’s parents)
NICHOLAS: Well, hey there, sport!
LEONARD: Hey, dad.
(They hug and then stop hugging)
LYNN: Hello, Nicholas and Morgan.
NICHOLAS: Hey, is this your girlfriend?
LEONARD: Dad, this is my wife Lynn, you met her before back in ’59.
NICHOLAS: You’re married? Aren’t you in college?
LEONARD: Dad, I’m thirty years old.
MORGAN: Yes, honey. Sorry, he’s a little loopy due to his medication.
LEONARD: What medication is he on?
MORGAN: He’s not on medication.
LEONARD; Yeah, it’s probably the lack of medication that is the problem.
NICHOLAS: Did I ever tell you how I was friends with Robert Byrd before he became a Senator?
LEONARD: Dad, please don’t tell this story.
LYNN: Leonard, I’m interested.
LEONARD: Oh God…
NICHOLAS; Yes, Robert and I were buddies back when I was in my mid-40s.
LYNN: I see.
NICHOLAS: I’ll never forget that letter he wrote to Senator Ted Bilbo. “I shall never fight in the armed forces with a Negro by my side ... Rather I should die a thousand times, and see Old Glory trampled in the dirt never to rise again, than to see this beloved land of ours become degraded by race mongrels, a throwback to the blackest specimen from the wilds.”
LYNN: Wow, that is beyond awful.
NICHOLAS: It was. But I can't tell you how many race mongrels he thought were fine specimens. Anyway, let’s go inside.
(They all go inside. Cut to Leonard, Nicholas, Lynn and Morgan sitting in the living room, sipping on sweet tea)
LEONARD: Now, this I miss. Summers in Jackson, sipping on sweet tea.
MORGAN: Oh, it was wonderful.
LEONARD: I spent summers here as a kid, Lynn. You know, Allison and Paul should spend some summers here once they get old enough.
LYNN: That won’t be for a long time, though.
NICHOLAS: Aren’t they driving nowadays?
LEONARD: Wow, no, Paul is six and Allison is two. Do you have reverse Alzheimer’s now?
MORGAN: We should’ve told you that his brain is suffering somewhat.
LEONARD: Yeah, no kidding.
LYNN: I’m sure there’s a treatment.
NICHOLAS: I’m sure he’d benefit from bed rest.
LEONARD: We’re talking about you, dad.
NICHOLAS: Yeah, dad!
MORGAN: Oh, Jesus. Does anyone want something stronger?
NICHOLAS: But it’s illegal now!
(Someone knocks at the door)
LEONARD: Who could that be? (Leonard gets up and opens the door to see Cole) COLE? What the fuck are you doing here?
COLE: I heard that your dad had Alzheimer’s, so I came here to offer my condolences. (Cole takes out a teddy bear and puts it to Leonard’s chest and then Cole closes the door himself and leaves) …I am without words.
(Cut to Kay on the phone back in Boston. Darren picks up on the other line)
DARREN: NAACP Boston Chapter, how may I help you?
KAY: Darren, it’s me Kay, we met the other day at the clothes store protest.
DARREN: Oh, of course. Kay, it’s nice to hear from you. How can I help you?
KAY: Yes, I’d like to know when your next protest is, because I’d like to join the cause for equality.
DARREN: Oh? Definitely, you can definitely do that. Our next protest is at a building company that won’t hire Negros.
KAY: What an injustice. Maybe afterwards we can get dinner?
DARREN: Sure. We can talk about our next move in the fight for equality.
KAY: Yep, our next move.
DARREN: In the fight for equality.
KAY: Right, our next move in the fight for whatever bob, what time is the protest?
DARREN: 2:30 tomorrow at the Ace Building Company on Tremont Street.
KAY: Perfect, then.
DARREN: So, I’ll see you in nine hours.
KAY: Yeah-wait, what?
DARREN: Yeah, it’s going to be at 2:30 AM tomorrow.
KAY: But nobody’s going to be there!
DARREN: Well, we received a threat from the Boston Police force, so…
KAY: C’mon, are we fighting for equality or what?
DARREN: …I guess it is a good way to avoid a noise complaint at 2:30 in the morning. Okay, fine, I’ll reschedule it to 2:30 PM tomorrow.
KAY: Great! See you then.
(They both hang up. Cut to Leonard and Morgan on the porch drinking scotch in rocking chairs)
LEONARD: Why didn’t you tell me dad’s brain was deteriorating?
MORGAN: You should’ve expected something when he retired at age 59.
LEONARD; I guess so, but you should’ve told me. I told Lynn that something was wrong with dad and that we had to come down here to visit him, and then I admitted nothing was wrong with him and I just wanted us to see him. But now, she’s confused as hell.
MORGAN: I know, it’s just egh-
(Nicholas comes out on the porch)
NICHOLAS: Lynn just pissed herself.
(Lynn comes out)
LYNN: My water just broke!
LEONARD: What?! You’re not due for a couple more weeks!
LYNN: IT DOESN’T CHANGE THE FACT THAT MY WATER JUST BROKE!
LEONARD: Okay, I’ll take her to the hospital in the rental car and mom, you can direct me there.
NICHOLAS: No, I’ll do it.
LEONARD; No, you’ll take me to the bridge where you had your first kiss or some stupid Alzheimer’s shit like that, Morgan can do it.
NICHOLAS: But this is your first baby and you need your father!
LEONARD: I HAVE TWO FUCKING KIDS!
LYNN: I AM GOING INTO LABOR!
LEONARD: OKAY, LET’S GO!
(Leonard, Lynn and Morgan go towards the car, get in and drive away)
NICHOLAS: HAVE FUN AT FOOTBALL PRACTICE, SONNY! I really do hope they have fun.
(Cut to Cole, Zach, Kenneth and David smoking cigarettes in the office, trying to come up with ideas)
COLE: I have no idea what Leonard wants us to do. He wants us to modernize, but just coming out with what everybody else is coming out with won’t help us put a dent in the market.
KENNETH: I called my friend Paul Van Doren down in California; he says he has an idea for a store that manufactures shoes and sells them directly to the public.
DAVID: That’ll never catch on.
KENNETH: Well, I think maybe-
COLE: How about frog skin coats?
ZACH: Oh my God Cole, not every idea is as easy as using an animal skin to make a coat.
COLE: Are you saying my fish skin coats weren’t a rousing success?
ZACH: I actually am saying that, yes.
DAVID: How about we bring back tri-corned hats?
COLE: There it is!
ZACH: No, fedoras are dying out as it is, we’re not going to go colonial. Do you want to bring back muskets and smallpox too?
KENNETH: Smallpox isn’t really a fashion statement…
ZACH: C’MON PEOPLE! We have to think bigger!
COLE: …You know what I saw today in the paper?
COLE: A picture of these British teens wearing these casual suits with no ties and these wide leg openings, I think they called them “leisurely suits” or something like that.
DAVID: Hmm…that’s actually not a bad idea. Suits for young people that are formal enough to be worn in a business setting, yet casual enough to be worn in informal settings.
ZACH: Yeah, I could see that.
KENNETH: I think those would look really terrible and ugly, like something a desperate, balding forty-year old sleaze wad might wear when trying to pick up chicks.
ZACH: Kenneth, you were a diversity hire, don’t try to butt in on our success. And we did succeed with a great idea!
COLE: Alright, this is cause for excessive drunkenness and extremely inhibited lucidity!
(Everyone except Kenneth, who looks dejected, cheer and clink glasses of scotch together. Cut to Kay walking on Tremont Street towards the protest, to see Darren standing outside the Ace Building Company alone. She runs up to Darren)
KAY: Darren, where is everybody?
DARREN: They all pussied out once they heard it was going to be in the afternoon, but I stayed here for you.
KAY: Oh really? Wow, how nice of you. You’re nice.
DARREN: Thank you. I’m glad you came.
KAY: Thanks. I’m glad I came. (Darren slowly leans in for a kiss and Kay acquiesces. They kiss for a few seconds and then stop) Oh my God, Darren. That was amazing.
DARREN: I enjoyed it more than you did.
KAY: (Giggles) I’m sure that’s not true. You want to know something?
KAY: The only reason I got involved in this protest was because of you and how handsome you are.
KAY: I mean, because you’re so persuasive-
DARREN: So you don’t even believe in the movement for civil rights?
KAY: I do, I’m just saying that you were extra catalyst-
DARREN: Of course you wouldn’t give a shit about our plight unless you wanted to fuck one of us, you’re dating to that racist motherfucker in the brown fedora.
KAY: Darren, I didn’t mean-
DARREN: How does even stand that brown fedora?
(Darren turns around and leaves)
KAY: Darren! DARREN!
(As Darren walks away, Kay stands, dejected. Cut to Lynn in a delivery room at Saint Dominic’s Hospital in Jackson, Mississippi. Morgan and Leonard are standing nearby)
LEONARD: Is dad gonna be okay at the house?
MORGAN: Our mammy will take care of him.
LEONARD: Okay. How are you feeling, honey?
LYNN: I feel like I’m in incredible pain, you?
LEONARD: I’m fine. I’m a little hungry, but I’m mostly fine.
MORGAN: I’ll go get some ice.
(Morgan leaves the room. Leonard walks over and sits next to Lynn)
LEONARD: Honey, it’s going to be alright.
LYNN: Is it?
LEONARD: Yes. This is your third time around the block. Remember two years ago? Just think about how relieved you were when Allison popped out of you? Think back to August 20, 1963 and all those tensions will melt away.
LYNN: No they won’t.
(Cut to 1 AM on November 4, 1965. The doctor gazing into Lynn’s birth canal while smoking a cigarette while Leonard and a nurse stands by)
DOCTOR: Sweetheart, you need to push.
LYNN: AHHHHH! WHO ARE YOU?!
DOCTOR: I’m Doctor Ethan Wilson, your gynecologist.
LYNN: YOU’RE NOT MY DOCTOR, I WANT MY DOCTOR!
LEONARD: Honey, your gynecologist is in Vermont.
LYNN: I DON’T WANT TO LISTEN TO LOGIC WHEN I HAVE A HUMAN BEING ESCAPING FROM MY UTERUS!
DOCTOR WILSON: I need you to push much harder than that, sweetheart.
DOCTOR WILSON: Sweetheart, I need you to push way, way, way harder than that, sweetheart. This is fucking pathetic, sweetheart.
LYNN: STOP CALLING ME SWEETHEART!
DOCTOR WILSON: I see a head, keep pushing!
LEONARD; PUSH, LYNN! PUSH!
LYNN: THANKS FOR THE FUCKING REMINDER!
DOCTOR WILSON: Push, Lynn.
LEONARD: Why are you smoking a cigarette right now?
DOCTOR; Delivering babies is stressful, I had like twelve still births last week.
LEONARD: Jesus Christ, what are you, Henry the eighth?
DOCTOR WILSON: I’m Henry the Eighth, I am.
LEONARD: Wow, nice.
DOCTOR WILSON: Yeah, that’s a good song.
LYNN: POP CULTURE REFERENCES NOT HELPING BIRH OVER HERE!!!
LEONARD: Oh, sorry.
(Finally, Ethan Donahue enters the world into the arms of the doctor. He is covered in afterbirth)
DOCTOR WILSON: It’s a boy!
LEONARD; Oh my God, it is! A boy!
LYNN: Is it? I want to see it!
DOCTOR WILSON: Hold on, the nurse has to clean it.
(The nurse takes the baby, cleans him and hands him to Lynn)
LYNN: Oh my God, he’s so beautiful.
(Leonard comes over)
LEONARD: He’s an angel.
LYNN: Doctor Wilson?
(Doctor Wilson walks over)
DOCTOR WILSON: Yes, sweetheart?
LYNN: I’m sorry for yelling at you, Doctor. Thank you for delivering my baby.
DOCTOR WILSON: It was an honor and a privilege.
LYNN: Forgive me for yelling.
DOCTOR WILSON: I forgive you, sweetheart.
LYNN: What’s your name again, Doctor?
DOCTOR WILSON: Doctor Ethan Wilson.
LYNN: Ethan…Leonard, I think we should name him Ethan.
LEONARD: Well…it does have a certain ring to it. Ethan Donahue. You know what, that’s a great idea. His name is Ethan.
(Leonard kisses the baby’s forehead)
DOCTOR WILSON: I’m honored that you have named your baby after me.
LEONARD: I’m glad.
(There is a pause and then Leonard chuckles)
LYNN: What, honey?
LEONARD: Nothing, I’m just still laughing about “I’m Henry the Eighth, I am”. Doctor, you are funny!
DOCTOR WILSON: Thank you, I’ll be here all night.
LEONARD: (Laughs) That’s swell; we should exchange numbers and talk some time.
DOCTOR WILSON: We definitely should.
(Cut to Leonard in his office back in Hansbay, writing at his desk. Cole, Zach, Kenneth and David come in)
KENNETH: Hey boss man, we heard about the little one. We’ll have gifts tomorrow, but for now, congratulations.
LEONARD: Thanks, I just came here to get some stuff, I’ll get back to work first thing tomorrow morning, but for now, can I talk to Cole in private, please?
ZACH: Are you going to congratulate him? Because he came up with this pristine idea in which we sell leisure suits to young people and the local outfitters ate it up. He landed a pretty huge deal.
DAVID: Yeah, he did great in there.
KENNETH: Yep. Well anyway, I heard through the grapevine that there’s going to be some major blackouts.
COLE: Looks like there already is.
(Cole, Zach and David laugh)
KENNETH: That’s hilarious; anyway, I’m going to head out before the blackouts kick in.
DAVID: Same here.
(Zach, Kenneth and David leave the room, while Leonard and Cole remain. Leonard looks at Cole with animosity as Cole approaches him)
COLE: I am so happy for you. But I also feel bad that due to recent events you have no choice but to not fire the psychopath that followed you all the way to Mississippi to give you a teddy bear. I’d like to express my condolences.
(Cole takes out a teddy bear and puts it on Leonard’s chest)
LEONARD: You son of a bitch.
(The power goes out)
(Cole walks out of the room while Leonard shakes his head. Fade to black)
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