The Donahues Episode 37

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
In the year 1925, Leonard Donahue meets Morgan Stevenson at a speak-easy and falls in love, Mayor Jeff Sarandon facilitates an illegal alcohol shipment across the Northern Vermont Border with Roscoe DeMint and Darren Bumpass, Charles Ponzi draws Eric Reed into a scam, Calvin Zimmerman tries to enforce prohibition to the best of his ability and Nicholas and Morgan deal with gangsters trying to blame a bust on them

Submitted: September 16, 2012

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Submitted: September 16, 2012









“Once, during Prohibition, I was forced to live for days on nothing but food and water”

-W.C. Fields


(We start in September 1925. A man is on stage at a vaudeville in an underground speak-easy. He is wearing 20s bartender clothes)


MAN: Next up, Nicholas Donahue will take a stab at comedy! Give it up!


(Everybody claps as a piano man on stage plays “Maple Leaf Rag” briefly. Once a 30-year old Nicholas Donahue is on stage, he stops. He is wearing 20s clothes, including a tie with a clip, a vest, a jacket, crocodile shoes and dress pants as well as a homburg hat. Other 20s people with alcoholic drinks in their hand are watching him and a spotlight is on him)


NICHOLAS: How is everyone doing tonight? (Everyone cheers) I couldn’t hear that!


AUDIENCE MEMBER: Get on with it!


NICHOLAS: Okay! Man, I don’t know why they call it a speak-easy, people here scream pretty uneasily! (Awkward silence. Nick clears his throat) Anyway, my girlfriend bought a radio the other day, which really put me in a dander. That radio is the second thing in my house that jabbers at me when I can’t get a word in! (Another silence) Wow, okay. No worries. How about that John Scopes? He was teaching kids down in Tennessee that we evolved from monkeys! With people like him, I’d say we haven’t evolved at all! (Silence) Jesus Christ.




NICHOLAS: Now hold on! Who has handcuffs? I can be Harry Houdini the shit out of this place! (The piano man starts playing “Maple Leaf Rag” again) C’MON! I’ll handcuff my arms to my nipples! I guarantee it!


28-YEAR OLD MORGAN:  (In the audience) That’s not possible.


NICHOLAS: You’re not possible!

(Morgan giggles)


MORGAN: What does that mean?


NICHOLAS: (Laughs) I don’t know…(Everybody starts booing and throwing tomatoes at him) HOW DO YOU PEOPLE HAVE TOMATOES?


(The man from earlier comes on stage and escorts him off. Cut to later. He is sitting alone at a table in the speak-easy. Morgan comes over and sits with him. She is wearing a dress, a blouse and a cloche hat)




NICHOLAS: Oh, hello there ma’am. You were in the audience earlier, right?


MORGAN: I was. You were, uh…good.


NICHOLAS: (Chuckles) No I wasn’t.


MORGAN: (Chuckles) You said it, not me.


NICHOLAS: Well, I just wanted to try it, I don’t think it’ll be my career path.


MORGAN: Then what is your career path?


NICHOLAS: Well…I think maybe politics.


MORGAN: Really?


NICHOLAS: Yes. I see political dynasties arise like the Adamses or the Dales and I feel like, someday, I want to be elected due to my last name exclusively and nothing else.


MORGAN: Have any of your family descendants been in politics?




MORGAN: So how would you be elected due to your last name alone?


NICHOLAS: I could change my last name to Whiskey, that’d attract some wet votes.


(Morgan laughs)


MORGAN: You’re funnier than you think, you know.


NICHOLAS: Well, I’m personally funny, not professionally so.


(A waiter comes over)


WAITER: Hi there you two. Could I get you two anything to eat?




MORGAN: I think we’re good.


WAITER: Celebrating a special occasion, are we?




WAITER: Because if you are-


MORGAN: We aren’t.


WAITER: If you are, we can accommodate most requests for that which shall not be spoken.


(The waiter winks)


NICHOLAS: …If you’re talking about alcohol, you don’t have to be so cryptic, this is an underground bar, everybody is here under the explicit impression that illegal alcohol is available here.


WAITER: Alcohol? What are you talking about alcohol? There’s no alcohol here.


(The waiter winks again)




(Cut to Roscoe DeMint and Darren Bumpass sitting outside the Mayor’s office, waiting, wearing 20s gangster clothes)


ROSCOE: Are you sure he’ll like us?


DARREN: It doesn’t matter if he likes us or not, we will provide him with a steady source of revenue.


ROSCOE: But he knows we can’t compete with New York, Atlantic City, Philadelphia, Chicago or even Burlington for Christ’s sake!

DARREN: Newsflash Roscoe, alcohol is illegal all over the country. And here’s another news flash, coming straight off the wire, neither Nucky in Atlantic City, nor Rothstein up in New York, treated us very well. But here’s a new development in this story, according to our sources, Jeff is in his early sixties. He’s not looking to fuck us over or turn us over to prohis. He’ll treat us right.


ROSCOE: First of all, stop doing the news thing.


DARREN: This just in, fuck you.


ROSCOE: Secondly, Nucky and Rothstein may have fucked us over in the end. But during most of the last five years, they lined our pockets. That’s why you get to have a negro follow you everywhere so he can shine your shoes.


(Pan over to see a Negro in a white suit with a shoe shine kit)


DARREN: My shoes get easily scuffed.


ROSCOE: Wow, you’re spoiled.


DARREN: Speaking of which, my shoes have collected a few dust specs. Maxwell? (Maxwell starts shining his shoes) Aww yeah…that feels good…slower…slower…(He starts shining more slowly)…that’s the ticket…


ROSCOE: This is getting weird.


(A flapper girl secretary walks out of the Mayor’s office)


SECRETARY: The Mayor is ready for you.


(Roscoe and Darren get up and the Negro keeps shining Darren’s shoes as he’s walking, but Darren stops)




(Darren kicks the Negro in the face and he falls down, holding his face as blood flows out. Darren and Roscoe then walk into the Mayor’s office)


NEGRO: Motherfucker.


(Cut to Roscoe and Darren walking into the Mayor’s office. The chair at his desk spins around to reveal him. A plaque on his desk reads “Jeffrey Sarandon, Mayor of Hansbay, Vermont”. He is aging, being about 62. He gets up to shake Roscoe and Darren’s hands and exchange pleasantries. They all sit down. Jeffrey behind his desk and Roscoe and Darren in front of his desk)


JEFFREY: So, I have heard that you have a proposition for me.


ROSCOE: Well, Mr. Mayor, it has come to our attention that you are in need of a liquor supplier ever since Mickey broke off business with you.


JEFFREY: That bitch. He told me he could give me the world. But all he could give me was a broken heart and a case of wine, circa 1780.


DARREN: Damn, that’s 145 year old wine!


ROSCOE: Wait, did you say “broken heart”?


JEFFREY: No, I said…high…prices.


DARREN: I distinctly heard “broken heart”.


(Jeffrey slams his fist down on the desk)




ROSCOE: Mr. Mayor, we will give you 90 cases of whiskey in exchange for thirty percent of the profits.


JEFFREY: Well, I’ll just skim ten percent off the top and you’ll have yourself a deal.


DARREN: Excuse me?


JEFFREY: I said “I’ll just skim-


ROSCOE: He heard you, what he meant to say was, did you seriously just inform us that you’re going to fuck us over?


JEFFREY: Why? What does skimming ten percent off the top mean?


DARREN: It means you’re going to misrepresent how much money you’re making from your alcohol sales so you can avoid giving us our fair share.


JEFFREY: Oh. I thought it was a good thing. That must be why people keep shooting me.


ROSCOE: Yeah…anyway, do we have a deal? A deal that involves no skimming?


JEFFREY: Hmm…let me think about it.


DARREN: Okay, well we’ll be in touch-


JEFFREY: No, I’m going to think about it now and give you an answer before you leave.




(They wait for fifteen seconds while he thinks)


ROSCOE: Really, we can come ba-


JEFFREY: Stay the fuck there.




(Cut to Eric Reed sitting in an office reading through papers, dressed like a 20s businessman. A man with a Newsboy cap, brown pants and a shirt comes in)


MAN: Mr. Reed?


ERIC: Yes? Oh, hello Dennis. Do you like that frock coat I sent you?


DENNIS: Yes sir. But sir, I have some concerns about the investment you’ve convinced me to take part in.


ERIC: What are those, Dennis?


DENNIS: Well first of all, I just don’t think this kind of return is possible.


ERIC: Dennis, you do realize that’s stupid right? (Eric stands up, pours a drink and walks over to the window to look out of it) The promise of America is reflected in our perpetual and unyielding growth. We are experiencing a time of gaiety here in the United States. And neither prohis, darkies, credit-default swaps or unrealistic return expectations can stop that. (Eric turns around and puts his drink on his desk) Chuck knows what he’s doing.


DENNIS: He spent three and a half years in jail for mail fraud!


ERIC: He’s past that now. He’s a new man. He’s no longer Charles Ponzi, he’s like Charlie Chaplin.


DENNIS: Well, Charlie Chaplin looks a lot like the author of your favorite book over there.


(Pan to a copy of “Mein Kampf” on a book shelf next to a picture of a young Adolf Hitler)


ERIC: Hey, he made some good points.


DENNIS: Can we just go down to Florida to ask Charles about this promise of his? I mean, tiny tracts of land, some under water and promising 200% returns by November?


ERIC: Yeah, we can just go all the way to Florida. That trip is a day and a half.


DENNIS: We’ll take an Aeroplane.


ERIC: I still don’t trust those things.


(Eric’s secretary pokes her head in)




ERIC: Yes?


SECRETARY: Mr. Ponzi is on the line.


ERIC: Oh, perfect. (Eric picks up his old timey telephone and puts the receiver to his ear and the microphone up to his mouth) Hello?


(Cut to Charles Ponzi sitting in a fancy chair in a house wearing a three-piece suit and a tweed hat. Behind him through the window is a sunny Florida sky. He is also on an old-timey telephone talking to Eric. When Eric is talking it cuts to Eric, when Charles is talking it cuts to Charles)


CHARLES: Hello, this is Carlo Pietro Giovanni Guglielmo Tebaldo-


ERIC: I know who it is, Charles, you don’t have to say your long-ass dago name.


CHARLES: Good. Anyway, I was just wondering if you’re pleased with our land deal.


ERIC: Well, my friend Dennis has some concerns about the investment, actually.


CHARLES: Say it ain’t so.


ERIC: It’s so. He says the 200% return by November is unrealistic.




ERIC: He also says that given your history of schemes, you shouldn’t be trusted.


CHARLES: That’s all behind me now. Yes, I am a new man.


ERIC: Well, then you wouldn’t have a problem is Dennis and I went down to Florida to check out the land?


CHARLES: …Of course not. Come down to Florida.


ERIC: To see the land?


CHARLES: To see..whatever!


ERIC: We want to see the land.


CHARLES: You can just have a big family fun-cation down here!


ERIC: Stop pretending it’s a vacation, okay? We want to see the land, Chuck.


CHARLES: Please, call me Charles.


ERIC: Okay…


CHARLES: Actually, call me Mr. Ponzi.


ERIC: Just let us come down.


CHARLES: Fine. Come down and see the land for yourself. I have nothing to hide.


ERIC: Great. We’ll arrive by car in two days.


CHARLES: Very perfect. (Charles hangs up and slams down his phone on his bedside table) I hate this state.


(Cut back to Jeff, Roscoe and Darren in Jeff’s office while Jeff is still thinking. Roscoe and Darren are visibly uncomfortable. After a few seconds, he says something)


JEFF: 90 cases of Whiskey across the Northern Vermont Border in exchange for thirty percent?




JEFF: I’m inclined to agree with your proposition completely on the condition that it is 100 cases of Whiskey and you guys get 25%.


ROSCOE: That’s not agreeing with our proposition completely.


DARREN: But we’ll agree as long as you never make us wait while you think like that ever again.


JEFF: Deal.


(They all shake hands. Cut to Nicholas and Morgan at the speak-easy at the main bar, drinking)


NICHOLAS: So then the hillbilly said “That ain’t my donkey”!


(They both start cracking up as the bartender walks over)


BARTENDER: Hey you two. What’s the joke?


NICHOLAS: You had to be there.


BARTENDER: But it’s like a “guy walks into a bar” joke, so how is that possible?


MORGAN: It’s not funny the second time you tell it.


BARTENDER: But for me it’s the first time, right? What’s the joke?


NICHOLAS: Just move past it, buddy.


BARTENDER: You realize I’m now going to spend the rest of my natural-born LIFE trying to figure out what you could have possibly said before the punch line that could’ve made the punch line funny?


NICHOLAS: You want a punch line? Here’s one. You can suck a fuck.


MORGAN: Nicholas!




NICHOLAS: Wow, you should’ve thought about that line more carefully.


(A prohi busts the speakeasy doors in followed by two other prohis)


PROHI: NOBODY MOVE! (Everybody gets up and holds up their hands)I’m Calvin Zimmerman from the Bureau of Internal Revenue.


BARTENDER: Sir, you’ve got this place wrong. We’re a book club.


CALVIN: What book are you discussing? The Al Capone cook book?




CALVIN: Wow, he appreciated my joke. I feel good.


NICHOLAS: That’s what gets you off, you fucking prohi?


CALVIN: Excuse me?


NICHOLAS: You are nothing but a boy scout with a badge!


MORGAN: Actually, boy scouts already have badges, so he’s just a boy scout.


(Calvin runs over to Nicholas and punches him in the face, knocking him down to the ground)


BARTENDER: Now THAT’S a punch line, BITCH!


CALVIN: He’s a man, why would you call him a bitch?




CALVIN: You sassed me. I don’t appreciate sassing.


MORGAN: I was sassing you.


CALVIN: Yeah, but I wouldn’t hit a woman.


MORGAN: That’s weird, because I would hit a man.


BAR PATRON: Are you gonna arrest us?


CALVIN: No, the mere consumption of alcohol isn’t illegal. I’m going arrest the bartender.




(Nicholas gets up, still holding his bloodied nose)


NICHOLAS: Now that’s a punch line!

MORGAN: Okay, enough with the punch line thing.


CALVIN: What is your name?


BARTENDER: Landon Kaiser.


CALVIN: Landon Kaiser, (Calvin walks around the bar and puts his hands in handcuffs) you are under arrest for violation of the Volstead Act.


LANDON: This is a bunch of shit.


NICHOLAS: Can we go?


CALVIN: Yeah, get out of you here you fucking knockabouts!


MORGAN: Will do!


(Nicholas and Morgan, along with a bunch of other people run out of the speak-easy and onto the street. Nicholas and Morgan run together onto the street, laughing. They stand near a street light and start making out. Cut to the two of them having sexual sex with each other on Nicholas’ bed in his apartment. Cut to the next morning. Nicholas and Morgan are in the bed, sleeping next to each other. Nicholas’ eyes open. Nicholas then turns Morgan’s face towards his. Morgan wakes up)


MORGAN: (Giggles) What are you doing?


NICHOLAS: I was just making sure you aren’t ugly.


(They both laugh and start making out. Cut to Landon in jail. Roscoe and Darren walk up to the jail cell and Landon goes up to the bars)


LANDON: Guys, that fucking Prohi Zimmerman locked me up!


ROSCOE: Did he?


DARREN: Listen, Landon, you can’t get caught like this! There’s like 30,000 speakeasies in the US and they happened to bust yours?


LANDON: I know, it’s unusual. I have a feeling about who might’ve done this.


ROSCOE: I don’t know why it matters; he’s just some bartender from one of our many speakeasies.


DARREN: Yeah, but this is our first speakeasy to get busted, and once they get their hands on that booze, they’re going to connect the dots and it’ll lead back to us, and possibly even Mayor Sarandon.


LANDON: Nicholas Donahue. Get that cunt. I think he might’ve tipped off the police. Also, he didn’t tell me a joke I wanted to hear.


ROSCOE: Do you want us to go after him because he’ll squeal to the prohis or do you just petulantly resent him for some imaginary infraction?




DARREN: Fine, we’ll go after Nicholas. What’s his last name again?


LANDON: Donahue. Bring me back his ears.


DARREN: Wow, no. I may be a gangster, but I’m not a psycho gangster.


(A guy walks up to them)


GUY: Hey guys, I-


(Roscoe takes a knife and slits the guy’s throat and he falls to the ground)


ROSCOE: I am. I will have his ears to you in the morning.


(Roscoe walks away as Darren and Landon stand in shock. Cut to Jeff Sarandon on the telephone in his office)


JEFF: A speakeasy was shut down by a prohi? Landon’s in jail? Who the hell is Landon? I don’t give a shit, yes I do! I haven’t slept in three days! HA HA HA! TAKE CARE OF IT!


(Jeff hangs up and then passes out on his desk.  Pan to a bottle of prescription cocaine on Jeff’s desk. Cut to a 1925 Ajax pulling into a driveway at Charles Ponzi’s house in Florida. Eric Reed and Dennis get out of the car and walk into the house. Cut to Eric and Dennis walking into Charles’ foyer as Charles comes to greet them. They shake hands)


CHARLES: It’s great to see you two.


ERIC: It’s good to see you as well, Charlie.


CHARLES: It’s really nice to see the both of you.


ERIC: So nice.


CHARLES: I really appreciate you guys making the trip.


ERIC: SO nice.


DENNIS: What is going on?


CHARLES: Come into my nook. (They walk into Charles’ nook and they sit down) Can I get you gentleman anything?


ERIC: We’re fine.


CHARLES: Did I hear tea cakes?


DENNIS: You didn’t.


CHARLES: Fine. What do you guys want to talk about?


DENNIS: I want to talk about the land.


CHARLES: Eric, do you have any kids?


ERIC: Yes, I have three boys. Triplets, all one year olds.


CHARLES: (Sighs) Wow, you are not going to make this easy, are you?


ERIC: What?


DENNIS: I want to see the land you’re selling us.


CHARLES: You want to see the land?!




CHARLES: Great! Grab your fucking coats! (Cut to Eric, Dennis and Charles standing in front of a swamp) Welcome to the Charpon Land Syndicate!


ERIC: The fuck is this shit?!


DENNIS: Are you telling me the land you’ve been trying to sell us swampland in Columbia County?


CHARLES: That’s correct.


(Eric and Dennis)


ERIC: We want out!


CHARLES: Oh, you’ll be out, out at the Juke Joints in hell! (Charles pulls out his gun and shoots Eric and then Dennis, both in the heart, leaving them dead on the ground) That was such a good line.


DENNIS: (Barely alive) No, it wasn’t.


(Charles shoots him again. He then runs into the forest, gets into his 1921 Moon Roadster and drives off. Cut to Calvin Zimmerman sitting at a desk in the Hansbay Post Office. Another agent comes in and puts down a map of Vermont on his desk)


CALVIN: I’m not going to go on a vacation with you.


PROHI: No, I’m not proposing that this time, I have heard from certain sources that there’s going to be a bunch of booze coming across the Northern Vermont Border tomorrow morning.


CALVIN: How many cases?


PROHI: It could be anywhere from…let’s say 500 to 1,000 cases.


CALVIN: You don’t know, do you?




CALVIN: Agent Hambery, if we intercepted traffic across the Northern Vermont Border unjustly it would be a huge embarrassment for the bureau.


HAMBERY: Even more embarrassing than when we allowed alcohol at last year’s Christmas party?


CALVIN: Heroin’s illegal too, does that mean we don’t allow it at our Christmas party?


HAMBERY: It should!


CALVIN: What are you saying, Agent Hambery?


HAMBERY: I’m saying if we did a bust on the booze, this would be a huge victory for the bureau! Nobody takes prohis seriously because prohibition has been so poorly enforced! Let’s make an example!


CALVIN: …You’re right. Who’s on top of this shipment?


HAMBERY: Here’s the kicker. The Mayor of this very city ordered Roscoe DeMint and Darren Bumpass to ship whiskey across the border.


CALVIN: The Mayor? I don’t know if we should touch this.


HAMBERY: Permission to speak freely, sir?


CALVIN: Granted.


HAMBERY: Where are your balls?


CALVIN: …Let’s do it.


(They get up, get their coats and hats and leave. Cut to Nicholas and Morgan having breakfast in Nicholas’ apartment. The breakfast is eggs and toast)


MORGAN: So…tell me who Nicholas Donahue is exactly.


NICHOLAS: Well, I was born in October 1895 in Montpelier to my parents Harold and Tori Donahue. The gay nineties were not a good time to have a baby, however. We were two years into the depression that stemmed from the panic of ’93 and unemployment was something like twelve, thirteen percent. But, my parents were socialites who hired poor people to warm their seats at the dinner tables for them. However, in ’96 my dad was fired from his job and ended up just as poor as anyone else during that time. But then they recovered around the turn of the century. My dad became an inventor and tried to create a flying machine.


MORGAN: Your dad was Thomas Edison?


NICHOLAS: Wha-no, what? No, my dad is neither Thomas Edison nor one of the Wright Brothers.


MORGAN: The Wright Brothers invented peanut butter, right?


NICHOLAS: No, that was George Washington Carver.


MORGAN: No, that was a serial killer with wooden teeth.


NICHOLAS: Let’s focus.




NICHOLAS: My dad’s a very duplicitous man. He tried to sabotage the flying machines the Wright Brothers were inventing twenty years ago.




NICHOLAS: When we got involved in the war in 1917, I enlisted and fought for the US armed forces.


MORGAN: Wow. What-


NICHOLAS: I don’t want to talk about it.


MORGAN: Of course.


(A loud knock is heard at the door)


NICHOLAS: I’ll get it.


(Nicholas walks over to the door and opens it to see Roscoe and Darren pointing Tommy guns at him)




ROSCOE: Mind if we come in?


NICHOLAS: Do I have a choice?


DARREN: Not really.


(Roscoe and Darren come in and slam the door)


ROSCOE: Did you call the prohis on that speakeasy the other night?!




DARREN: Landon said you did.


NICHOLAS: The faggot bartender? He hated me; of course he would say that.


(Roscoe hits Nicholas in the face with his machine gun, sending him to the floor and causing Morgan to scream)


MORGAN: Do you want money?! I have money!


DARREN: Shut the fuck up you cunt. This is man business.


ROSCOE: Yeah, go knit a sandwich for me.


(They both laugh)




(Nicholas gets up, holding his wound)


NICHOLAS: I was in the trenches, you know?


DARREN: Well, my son was in Honduras a few months ago. Does that make me king fuck of fuck mountain? NO!


MORGAN: You guys are just terrible at saying things.


NICHOLAS: Listen, I didn’t call the prohis on that speakeasy. I was there to drink, after all!


ROSCOE: So you’re not a prohi yourself?


NICHOLAS: No! Look, I have a liquor cabinet right over there!


(Pan to Nicholas’ liquor cabinet and then pan back)


ROSCOE: Yeah, because no prohis drink.


MORGAN: He’s employing sarcasm.


NICHOLAS: I realize that. Listen, don’t kill us. Take whatever you want, just don’t kill us.


ROSCOE: We don’t want your stuff! Although that radio’s pretty nice.


NICHOLAS: That radio’s just like my girlfriend, it talks at me but I can’t talk back.




MORGAN: I don’t think your comedy is going to keep us from being killed.


DARREN: We’re not going to kill you guys, okay? You just need to talk to the Mayor.




(Cut to Morgan and Nicholas sitting in the Mayor’s office in front of his desk while Roscoe and Darren stand behind them)


JEFF: (Tuts several times) You temperance broads are sneaky little bitches.


MORGAN: I’m not a temperance broad; I was drinking at that speak.


JEFF: How did that prohi Zimmerman know there was a speak there, huh?


NICHOLAS: Maybe he was doing his job and noticed a giant black hole swallowing up all the drunkards in Hansbay, Vermont?


JEFF: Impossible. You two are complicit.


MORGAN: Shouldn’t you be angry at the prohis, not two innocent people drinking there?


JEFF: I’m the Mayor, what am I going to do, lock up the prohis? You two need to take the fall for this.


NICHOLAS: In what way?


JEFF: We’re going to kill you.


(Detectives Zimmerman and Hambery walk in)


CALVIN: Mayor Sarandon?


JEFF: What is the meaning of this?


HAMBERY: Mr. Mayor, we have it on good authority that you ordered the shipment of…a bunch of cases of Whiskey across the Northern Vermont Border set for tonight.


JEFF: That is preposterous, ridiculous, nonsensical, exorbitant, incredible and unreasonable!


NICHOLAS: Wow, really defensive.


CALVIN: Mayor Sarandon, (Calvin walks over to the Mayor and stands him up and puts him in handcuffs) you are under arrest for violation of the Volstead Act.


JEFF: What evidence do you have of these ridiculous accusations?


(Hambery holds up a piece of paper)


HAMBERY: We have obtained witness testimony from a colored man named Maxwell Higgins that overheard your plans through that very door. He also said you kicked him in the face.




ROSCOE: No, some nigger ratted us out.


(Calvin takes the Mayor away)




HAMBERY: Also, Roscoe DeMint, you are under arrest for the murder of Matthew Banks.




HAMBERY: The guy’s throat you slit in the jail, dumbass. Do you think people just forgot about that?




(Hambery puts Roscoe in handcuffs and takes him away as another prohi comes in and puts Darren in handcuffs)


PROHI: You’re also arrested for violation of the Volstead Act.


DARREN: Got it.


(The prohi takes Darren away)




MORGAN: I guess we can go.




(Morgan and Nicholas get up and leave.  Nicholas comes back to see that Darren and Roscoe left their Tommy guns behind. He grabs a duffel bag and outs the guns in them. Cut to Morgan and Nicholas walking down the streets of Hansbay, holding hands)


MORGAN: What’s in the bag?


NICHOLAS: Just some stuff for work.


MORGAN: Oh, okay. You know, I see big things for us.


NICHOLAS: I do too. We’ve been through a lot in the past…less than a day.


MORGAN: No kidding.


NICHOLAS: Do you want to go to a moving picture show?


MORGAN: Well, I love moving pictures and I hate sound, so sure!


NICHOLAS: Great! Let me just go up to my apartment to get money.


(Cut to the negro named Maxwell Higgins in his cheap apartment lying on his cheap bed wearing an undershirt and trousers. Suddenly, there’s a knock at the door. He gets up and opens the door to see two Klansmen pointing shotguns at him. He screams)




KLANSMAN: A ghost, who do you think?


MAXWELL: What do you want?


KLANSMAN 2: We hard you framed three white men. You need to learn your place, boy.


MAXWELL: I’ll stay silent during the trial, I swear! As long as you don’t kill me!


KLANSMAN: You’ll be quieter than President Coolidge in a second, boy, so it don’t matter.


SOMEONE OFF SCREEN: Doesn’t matter.


(The Klansmen turn around to see Nicholas and Morgan wielding Tommy guns pointed at the Klansmen)


KLANSMAN: Who the fuck are you two?


NICHOLAS: We’re people who don’t talk like goddamn rubes. Maybe you’ve heard of us?


KLANSMAN 2: Are those guns even loaded you fucking nigger lover?


NICHOLAS: Let’s see. (Nicholas and Morgan shoot both Klansmen in the chest, causing them to collapse to the floor, dead) I think so.


MORGAN: Sorry for ruining the thread count on those bed sheets, fellas.


(Maxwell comes out of the apartment)


MAXWELL: Thank you two so much! I don’t even know how to thank you two, you saved my life!


NICHOLAS: No need to thank me.  I would never stand idly by while a life is in danger. You’re welcome though, it was really nice of me.


(Maxwell runs over and hugs the two)


MAXWELL: Thank you so much!


(They embrace in a bear hug)


MORGAN: Nicholas, how’d you get these guns?


NICHOLAS: Darren and Roscoe left them in the Mayor’s office, so I took them.


MORGAN: That’s incredible.


(Cut to Nicholas and Morgan in Nicholas’ apartment listening to the radio. The last minute of “I’ll See you in C-U-B-A” by Billy Murray is playing)


NICHOLAS: I love this song.


MORGAN: Yeah. Hey, during your comic routine, you said you had a girlfriend. That’s not true, is it?


NICHOLAS: No. I guess my radio was my girlfriend.


(Morgan giggles)


MORGAN: Yeah. But, I think you have a girlfriend now.


(Nicholas smiles and the two of them hold hands. “I’ll See You In C-U-B-A” ends)


RADIO ANNOUNCER: That was a favorite from five years ago lampooning prohibition. But now here’s a favorite from this year. Enjoy Vernon Dalhart’s “The Prisoner’s Song”.


(“The Prisoner’s Song by Vernon Dallhart starts playing. Nicholas and Morgan cuddle next to each other. One minute in, cut to Charles Ponzi sitting in his dark room sipping champagne and holding his revolver. He then looks at a picture of himself in a prison jumpsuit. He flips to the back and it reads “CHUCK’S FIRST DAY IN THE CLINK, NOVEMBER 1920”. Charles rips up the photo and tosses it aside. Cut to Eric and Dennis’ dead bodies lying on the edge of the swamp.  A fisherman walks up to them and starts screaming and runs away. Cut to Jeff, Roscoe and Darren in a jail cell smoking cigarettes and looking stressed. Pan to a prisoner across the way in another cell. He shows them The Hansbay Quintessential with the headline “NEGRO KILLS TWO KLANSMEN IN HANSBAY APPARTMENT BUILDING, NEGRO AT LARGE”. Jeff, Roscoe and Darren see the picture of the negro and gasp, seeing he was Darren’s shoe shine. Cut to morgue employees taking the two Klansmen out on stretchers while police officers search the apartment. Cut to Nicholas and Morgan dancing in Nicholas’ apartment. Then pan to the other room, where Maxwell is sitting in a chair with the blinds drawn as the song ends. Cut to December 1925. Nicholas is in his sitting room reading the newspaper. There is a Christmas tree nearby. The newspaper reads “MOUNT RUSHMORE TO BE FAMILY-FRIENDLY VACATION SPOT FOR ALL AMERICANS” and the sub-headline “But don’t worry, fellas, there’s probably going to be a speak-easy in Jefferson’s nose”. Morgan comes in)


MORGAN: Nicholas?


NICHOLAS: Yes, Morgan?


MORGAN: We need to talk.


(Nicholas puts down the newspaper)


NICHOLAS: Did Maxwell steal something?


MORGAN: No, he’s fine, it’s about me. I just got back from my gynecologist, and…I’m pregnant.




MORGAN: I’m pregnant. You must’ve gotten me pregnant when we had sex for the first time three months ago.


NICHOLAS: Oh my God…that’s amazing!


MORGAN: Really?




(Nicholas and Morgan hug and kiss)


MORGAN: What should we name it?


(Maxwell comes in)


MAXWELL: Hey, do we got any peanut brittle?


NICHOLAS: I think we should name it Maxwell.


MORGAN: …I agree.


(They kiss while Maxwell looks on in shock. Cut to a courtroom proceeding. Jeff, Roscoe and Darren is sitting on the defendant’s side with his lawyer and there is a judge, a jury and a prosecution. The judge bangs his gavel)


JUDGE: Order! Order! (The court quiets down) We are now preceding with the case the United States V. Jeffrey Sarandon, Roscoe DeMint and Darren Bumpass. Mr. Sarandon, Mr. DeMint and Mr. Bumpass, you are all being charged with violations of the National Prohibition Act and thus the eighteenth amendment to the United States Constitution. How do you plead, Mr. Sarandon?


JEFFREY SARANDON: Not guilty, your honor.


JUDGE: Mr. DeMint?


ROSCOE DEMINT: Not guilty, your honor.


JUDGE: Mr. Bumpass?


DARREN: Not guilty, your honor.


JUDGE: Mr. DeMint, you’re also being charged with the second degree murder of Matthew Banks, how do you plead?


ROSCOE: Guilty, your honor.


JEFF: Really?


ROSCOE: I did it in a public place in front of a bunch of people with a knife I owned, am I going to say I was trying to shave him but missed?


(The Judge slams the gavel)


JUDGE: Order! Save Humorous banter for the vaudevilles, ladies and gentlemen. Mr. DeMint, pending the outcome of your Volstead violation case, you are hereby sentenced to 25 years in Vermont State Prison.


ROSCOE: So I’ll be out in 1950?


JUDGE: Congratulations, you can do math. Five years off your sentence.


ROSCOE: Really?




ROSCOE: Damnit.


(Cut to Nicholas and Morgan having an indoor wedding with a priest standing in between them. They are both dressed to the hilt)


PRIEST: Do you, Nicholas Ryan Donahue, take this, Morgan Madeline Stevenson, as your lawfully wedded wife, in sickness and health, until death do you part?




PRIEST: And do you, Morgan Madeline Stevenson, take this, Nicholas Ryan Donahue, as your lawfully wedded wife, in sickness and health, until death do you part?




PRIEST: You may now kiss the bride.


(They kiss passionately. Fade to black)





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