“Pyro, Fuego, Fire, It’s a power, a strength, a source of light, it kindles, ignites vivid minds, Imaginations, carnival brilliance, Illuminates the world, the universe, It leads, guides your way, makes you warm, live, survive, yet in the end, if abused, left alone, becomes a monster, a destroyer, murderer, a spoiler it is”
(We start with Brennan and Ryan walking through Ryan’s front door with their backpacks over their shoulders)
RYAN: So like, if I dated a seven year old, it would be weird, right?
RYAN: But if a 51 year old dated a 41 year old, it wouldn’t be weird. It’s just interesting, because it’s the same age difference!
BRENNAN: So you’re saying you want to date a seven year old?
RYAN: No, of course not! I’m just saying it’s a double standard. It’s a good double standard.
(They both put their backpacks down. Ryan walks into his computer room)
BRENNAN: Your mom and dad won’t be here for a couple of hours, right?
RYAN: Yeah. Wait, didn’t you break your leg and your arm a week ago?
BRENNAN: They healed.
BRENNAN: Cool. I’m going to get some food from the kitchen, you want anything?
RYAN: Yeah, get me sixteen bagel bites, please.
BRENNAN: There is no plate known to man that can sustain that amount of bagel bites.
RYAN: Fine, twelve.
BRENNAN: Cool, we’ll split it.
RYAN: You know, you’re lucky you’re the only one I’m comfortable eating in front of!
BRENNAN: Not really. (Brennan goes into the Kitchen as Ryan sits at one of Brennan’s computers. Cut to Brennan in the kitchen. He is placing twelve bagel bites onto a plate) These are way better than Totino’s pizza rolls or Pizza Bites or cheese-filled pizza snacks or those disgusting pizza-filled cheese snacks. (He puts the bagel bites in the microwave and puts in three minutes. They start microwaving and as he watches them spin around, he notices in his peripherals a box of matches on the counter. He walks over to them and takes one of the match sticks out and scrapes it across the side, which ignites it. He smiles, waits for a little bit and then blows it out. He puts the matchbox in his pocket and then leaves the kitchen. Cut to Jacob at lunch with Roger, Beckett and Ross)
ROGER: Dude, we’re getting’ so blazed Friday night.
BECKETT: Fuck yeah, dude.
JACOB: It’s Wednesday. Why are we already excited about getting blazed Friday night?
ROGER: Because it’s never too early to be excited about getting blazed, dawg.
ROSS: Never too early.
(Jacob picks up his lunch trash and begins to leave)
ROGER: Nigga, don’t leave me, I get lonely.
JACOB: There are other people here.
ROGER: You’re right, I don’t need you.
(Roger and the rest laugh and Jacob throws his trash away. Then, a military recruitment booth catches Jacob’s eye. He walks over to it to see a military recruiter writing something down. He looks up)
MILITARY RECRUITER: Why hello, son.
JACOB: Hello, sir. Thank you for your service er whatever.
MILITARY RECRUITER: Er whatever?
JACOB: I mean, unequivocally, thank you for your service.
MILITARY RECRUITER: Thank you, son. Now what do you want?
JACOB: Um, I don’t know, aren’t you recruiting people for the military?
MILITARY RECRUITER: Oh yeah. My name is General Noah DePinto. We need soldiers in Afghanistan for the last two years of this war. Preferably soldiers who won’t fuck Paula Broadwell.
JACOB: I’m not promising anything.
(Jacob smiles and picks up a pen as if he’s about to sign up)
GENERAL DEPINTO: Well, if you fuck guys we’ll accept you as of a year ago.
JACOB: I should introduce you to my brother. (Noah chuckles) What’s so funny?
GENERAL DEPINTO: Your joke about your brother.
JACOB: Do you even know my brother?
GENERAL DEPINTO: Um, no, but I thought you were joking about him being gay.
JACOB: HE’S BI.
GENERAL DEPINTO: Okay…?
JACOB: Fuck this shit!
(He puts down the pen, takes the form and walks away, leaving General DePinto confused. Cut to Ethan and Kimberly sitting at the dinner table. Kimberly has her laptop open)
ETHAN: You know, we met Director Petraeus, do you remember that?
KIMBERLY: Oh, you mean when we thought our son might die? Yeah I vaguely remember that.
ETHAN: Hey, we’ve thought our son might die a lot so don’t get sarcastic.
KIMBERLY: That’s true.
ETHAN: But yeah, when I met him he never struck me as an adulterer.
KIMBERLY: He struck me as an intimidating as all hell and then some.
ETHAN: Yeah, but he was banging his biographer! That’s like the Biography of Benjamin Franklin being written by a French Whore.
KIMBERLY: (Chuckles) Yeah. I mean, Petraeus was banging his biographer; his biographer was jealous of some walking spray tan named Jill Kelly that was being flirtatious with Petraeus and then Kelly was sending 30,000 pages worth of flirtatious e-mails to General Allen who’s supposed to become the new guy heading up operations in Europe, which isn’t going to happen and on top of that, the FBI agent who’s investigating all this may have sent shirtless pictures to that Kelly! This is like a love quadrangle.
ETHAN: Yeah and I mean come on, shirtless pictures? What is it, tenth grade?
KIMBERLY: I guess. So anyway, I am awaiting a call from a potential investor.
ETHAN: Really now?
KIMBERLY: Yes, Rob and I presented to him on Tuesday and I think it went well, so fingers crossed.
ETHAN: Did Rob not embarrass himself like usual?
KIMBERLY: Rob stayed quiet. Right Rob?
(Rob walks past and mimics zipping his lips and throwing away the key. He then walks away)
ETHAN: How did you get him to be quiet?
KIMBERLY: We both said something at the same time and I called jinx, so he can’t talk until he buys me a soda. You see, to shut up a broke, immature man I had to think like a broke, immature man.
(Kimberly’s phone rings. Kimberly picks it up)
KIMBERLY: Hello?! Oh, hey mom. Yeah, I’m doing fine. How’s Clint? Cool. What’s that? Oh my God, really? Thanks you so much, sir, I won’t let you down! Yes, I’ll meet with you soon. Bye.
(Kimberly hangs up)
ETHAN: Who was that?
KIMBERLY: That was the investor! He’s investing in our company!
ETHAN: Are you kidding?!
ETHAN: That’s awesome! (Ethan and Kimberly hug and then stop hugging) I thought you were talking to your mom!
KIMBERLY: Yeah, he has this weird thing where he prefers for people to call him mom.
ETHAN: That’s bizarre.
KIMBERLY: Yeah. ROB! (Rob walks in) We have investors! (Rob jumps up and down and Kimberly gets up and they jump around together) You can talk now!
(Rob shakes his head. Cut to Brennan walking back into the computer room to see Ryan on Friendster)
BRENNAN: What are you doing on Friendster?
RYAN: I’m just seeing if it still exists. Did you know MySpace is just a music video website now?
BRENNAN: Ryan, do you want to go outside for a second?
RYAN: Uh…sure. Why though? But sure. Why?
BRENNAN: You know, fresh air. Well, it won’t be fresh for long.
RYAN: What does that mean?
RYAN: Okay, well it’s like thirty degrees out.
BRENNAN: C’mon, just for a second.
(Ryan gets up and the two of them go outside. Cut to them walking in the backyard, bundled up in jackets)
BRENNAN: This is a nice backyard.
RYAN: I know. It’d be nicer if my balls had feeling.
BRENNAN: Why do people always complain about their balls when it’s cold out? The balls are the luckiest, they have the most layers of warmth. Pants, underwear and skin.
RYAN: Yeah, but if I say I’m “freezing my nose off” I’d feel like a Mormon. (Chinaberry comes over and Ryan leans down to pet him) Chinaberry! Who’s a goo boy? Who’s a goo boy?
(Brennan leans down and pets him also)
BRENNAN: Dogs are so relaxing.
RYAN: Yeah, I know. In drug therapy we have a dog to calm us down. But never go to drug therapy one ecstasy because that Xheads love soft things WAY too much.
BRENNAN: Did you do that?
RYAN: Only twice!
BRENNAN: Hey, let’s go to that fence area over there.
RYAN: You mean the part with the fence?
BRENNAN: Yeah, exactly, that part.
(Ryan and Brennan get up and walk over to the far right side of the backyard and open a fence door and find themselves in an area with a creek, a fort full of guns and traffic signs)
BRENNAN: What the fuck?
RYAN: Oh yeah, I remember this area. (Ryan closes the door) When Madeline was sixteen way back in 2009, she stole a bunch of traffic signs and stashed them here.
BRENNAN: That’s a serious crime.
RYAN: It was in the name of art.
BRENNAN: What’s with the guns?
RYAN: Oh, those are guns my mom stashed here on Monday when Texas sent that petition to secede from the Union to the White House so she could prepare for the inevitable Civil War.
BRENNAN: Well, I was thinking more like the War of 1812.
RYAN: What do you mean? (Brennan takes out the matchbox and strikes a match) Why do you have that?
BRENNAN: I found it in your kitchen.
RYAN: That doesn’t answer my question.
BRENNAN: It’s a matchbox, okay?
RYAN: I have no confusion about what it is, but why is it in your hand?
(Brennan blows out the flame)
BRENNAN: Have you ever heard of the band “I Set my Friends on Fire”?
BRENNAN: I was just wondering.
RYAN: Jesus, I thought you were going to set me on fire.
BRENNAN: No way, we’re just going to start a fire or two.
RYAN: Wait, really?
BRENNAN: Yeah, no big deal. We’ll put them out with the STOP sign if they get too out of control, that’s why they call it a STOP sign.
RYAN: So you’re saying we should start fires on a dry, windy day in mid-November?
RYAN: Okay, cool, let’s do it.
BRENNAN: Great, Hand me the matches.
RYAN: You’re holding the matches.
BRENNAN: …I am.
(Brennan strikes a match and drops it in a pile of leaves and the leaves start to blaze and the fire grows as the following exchange takes place)
BRENNAN: Ah, see, this is nice.
RYAN: Yeah, it’s like a New Orleans funeral.
BRENNAN: Do New Orleans funerals involve burning things?
RYAN: I think.
BRENNAN: No, I think this is more like a Viking funeral where they put the body in a boat and set it out to sea, on fire.
(Ryan takes a match, strikes it and throws it into the leaf fire)
RYAN: No, I don’t think they set the boats on fire.
BRENNAN: Oh yeah, it makes more sense that they set New Orleans Jazz Musicians on fire!
RYAN: Okay, this is getting really big.
BRENNAN: Yeah, put it out.
(Ryan takes the stop sign and throws it on to the fire, which seems to put it out)
RYAN: Done and dumber.
BRENNAN: You mean done and doner?
(Ryan and Brennan leave, closing the gate behind them)
RYAN: Editorialize much?
(Cut to the stop sign covering the leaf fire. A single spark flies out and lights a blade of grass on fire. Cut to Jacob pulling up to his house in his car. He parks, gets out, grabs his backpack out of his back seat and walks inside)
JACOB: HELLO?!...Nobody’s home, I guess. That’s weird, I saw Ryan’s car out there. I guess he and Brennan must’ve walked to that big bush where they tried X for the first time again. (Jacob walks to the kitchen, where the bagel bites are still in the microwave and there’s a note on the fridge. He reads the note and it says “To Jacob, Ryan and Logan if he’s awake yet: Your father is at his Vermont secessionists meeting and Rob and I, your mother, are doing business for our company. Your father and I will be back later, probably seven. Love, Mom. Also Rob!”)
JACOB: Yes! (Jacob goes to the microwave, pulls out the finished bagel bites, walks upstairs to his room where there’s a suspicious lamp. He pulls of the lampshade to reveal it’s a bong) Best decision I ever made. Besides Kirsten. Actually, better than Kirsten.
(Jacob takes the bong into the game room and sits down on the couch. He puts the bong on the table and takes a box form under the coffee table labeled “Ot-Nay a ram-gay of eed-way” with “Not a gram of weed” scribbled underneath. He takes out, surprise, a gram of weed and loads the bowl. Cut to him lighting the bowl and inhaling, taking the bowl out, inhaling more and then exhaling. He puts FeBreeze on the table at that point. Then, he takes out his remote and turns on the TV to see the local news)
PATRICK WHITE: Hello, and welcome to the Hansbay Five Action News at 1:40 PM, the time when many High School students are probably arriving home, how convenient is that, Fiona?
FIONA: I don’t know what the hell he’s talking about, but anyway, our top story tonight besides the latest missing white girl or some inconsequential city council bullshit is the ever-widening David Petraeus sex scandal. Four Star General David Petraeus has stepped down from his post as CIA director following a torrid affair with his biographer but he is still going to be summoned to Capitol Hill to testify about the attack on Benghazi in mid-September.
JACOB: Man, I remember meeting that guy.
FIONA: There has been a lot of fallout over this scandal from House Republicans, and-
JACOB: Speaking of fallout. (Jacob takes out a copy of “Call of Duty: Black Ops II”) Oh yeah, this isn’t fallout. Well, it’s a first person-shooter, close enough. (Jacob walks over to his XBOX and puts the game in and walks back to his couch, sits on it, takes a hit of the bong and then exhales. He picks up his wireless controller and starts playing. Cut to ten minutes later, he is really high playing the game. He is walking around a battlefield when an insurgent catches him off guard and he shoots him dead, causing Jacob to laugh) That fuckin’ asshole’s kids will be so…sad..(Jacob falls asleep. Cut to a dream sequence of Jacob’s. He is running through a battlefield with a gun. He sees Principal Maxell in an enemy uniform wielding a gun)
PRINCIPAL MAXELL: Sic semper tyrannus!
JACOB: More like your sick temper is tyrannical! …You’ve had so many opportunities to shoot me.
PRINCIPAL MAXELL: What’s that?
(Jacob shoots him dead. Jacob then returns to base to see General DePinto)
GENERAL DEPINTO: Nice work, Private Donahue. You’re making General DuPont proud. Or, maybe DePont. Or something. What was it?
JACOB: Thank you, sir. I try my best.
GENERAL DEPINTO: You war heroes are always so modest.
JACOB: You’re also a war hero.
GENERAL DEPINTO: My alien feet have committees on newspaper deflation in four tripods, Private.
JACOB: Yes sir.
(Suddenly, General DePinto is in a tuxedo)
GENERAL DEPINTO: I’m off to roast Martin Sheen. You on the other hand can go in the tent and bask in your reward for a job well done.
JACOB: Yes sir! (Jacob walks into the tent to see Paula Broadwell in skimpy clothing on a military cot) Yes m’am!
PAULA BROADWELL: I’m forty!
JACOB: Yeah, and Petraeus is sixty, so don’t give me that excuse.
PAULA BROADWELL: You know why they call me Paula?
PAULA BROADWELL: Because I’ll appaul ya when I blow ya.
JACOB: I thought you were going to make a BROADwell joke there, but that was good too.
(Suddenly, Paula is Kirsten)
KIRSTEN: Why would I make a Broadwell joke, my name is Kirsten Snowe!
JACOB: Kirsten? What are you doing here, women aren’t allowed in direct combat!
(Ryan comes up to Jacob with a gun)
RYAN: I’m allowed though! Well, now I am.
(Ryan shoots Kirsten dead)
JACOB: DUDE, WHAT THE FUCK?!
JACOB: YOU KILLED MY FUCKING GIRLFRIEND!
JACOB: YOU STILL KILLED HER!
RYAN: Yeah, well you ate my bagel bites!
RYAN: Wake up, asshole! You ate our bagel bites!
(Jacob walks up to see Ryan and Brennan standing in the game room with him)
RYAN: You ate all our bagel bites you stoner! Now what’re we going to do, eat something with some nutritional value?
BRENNAN: I get enough of that shit with those federally mandated healthy lunches!
JACOB: Sorry, it’s just…I’m high!
RYAN: I know, I ascertained that. Since when do you get high indoors anyway? What if mom and dad come home?
JACOB: They won’t be here for five and a half hours, I’ll clean it all up.
RYAN: Fine, do that. Brennan, let’s go heat up some pizza-filled cheese snacks.
BRENNAN: Ooh, I love those!
(They both leave while Jacob grabs his backpack and pulls out the military enrollment form and looks at it. Cut to Rob and Kimberly in business suits, a pantsuit for Kimberly obviously, waiting in a conference room. Rob is pacing around smoking a cigarette)
KIMBERLY: Jesus, would you relax? We’ve already met with this investment club before.
ROB: I know, I’m just stressed! Now that Obama’s gotten a second term, businesses will shutter and little upstarts like ours will be forced to shut down if we don’t make our products “eco-friendly”.
KIMBERLY: We’re selling racquetball equipment, not coal.
ROB: Should we even accept this money? It’s never good when money gets in between family.
KIMBERLY: They’re not our family.
ROB: We’re at least fiftieth cousins!
KIMBERLY: Everybody’s at least fiftieth cousins.
ROB: Maybe we shouldn’t accept the money for a different reason!
KIMBERLY: What possible reason?
ROB: We’re not investment sluts hiking up our skirts for every group of investors off the boardwalk, we should be classy investment sluts, like a 1920s swank whorehouse.
KIMBERLY: So either way we’d be sluts?
ROB: Yeah, but not for this investment club, what a crock!
(Kimberly gets up and grabs Rob)
KIMBERLY: Rob, I get it. I know you’re afraid of failure because you’ve failed so many times in your life.
ROB: Name one time I’ve failed.
KIMBERLY: Right off the top of my head, sixteen years ago when you dropped out of high school.
ROB: Yeah, but remember, I applied to a college after that!
KIMBERLY: Yeah, and I told you they wouldn’t accept you because you hadn’t graduated high school!
ROB: Stuffy motherfuckers.
KIMBERLY: Another time is the time that you snorted coke off of a stripper’s leg!
ROB: She wouldn’t let me sniff it off her tits!
KIMBERLY: That’s not why I’m mad at you for that, and oh my God, that’s disgusting!
ROB: Yeah, sorry about that.
KIMBERLY: Rob, you’ve spent the last sixteen years being a knockabout. You haven’t held a job for more than six months at a time and you’ve been barely scraping by. Plus, you had to move in with us four months ago!
ROB: Almost four months ago!
KIMBERLY: Rob, don’t worry. Shake off those cobwebs and let’s blow these guys away, alright?
ROB: (Deep breath) Okay. Thanks, Kimmy.
KIMBERLY: Seriously though, you have cobwebs on you.
(Pan down to see Rob has cobwebs on his suit)
ROB: Oh, damnit. Sometimes I just walk into these, you know?
(Rob wipes off the cobwebs, straightens his tie and runs a comb through his hair. Then, a group of middle-aged men in suits walk in)
KIMBERLY: Mr. Kissick, it’s a pleasure to see you again.
(Kimberly shakes Mr. Kissick’s hand)
MR. KISSICK: It’s a pleasure to see you again, Mrs. Donahue.
ROB: The pleasure’s all mine.
(Rob extends his hand and Mr. Kissick shakes it)
MR. KISSICK: Trust me; it’s a pleasure for all of us.
ROB: I think it’s mostly over here.
KIMBERLY: Okay, simmer down. (Rob and Mr. Kissick unclasp hands) Rob, you remember Mr. Litwak, Mr. McKeller and Mr. Passamano.
ROB: I do recollect those monikers.
KIMBERLY: Congratulations, you remember and eighth grade vocab list.
ROB: Thank you.
(Rob and Kimberly shake the hands of all four gentlemen and then they all sit down)
KIMBERLY: So, I’m glad we left our last meeting on Monday on such a positive note.
MR. KISSICK: We are as well. We believe that with your business model of selling quality racquetball equipment we buy from factories in the small Asian country of Cheking and selling them at a substantial profit to local gymnasiums. School gymnasiums, community gyms and of course birth coaching classes.
KIMBERLY: Exactly, it’s going to be great.
MR. MCKELLER: Now, what about marketing?
ROB: Our marketing strategy involves posters posted up around the city. Plus, we’ll put an ad on one of those vans that are always parked in one place and never seem to go anywhere.
KIMBERLY: Exactly, and if we make enough money we can eventually buy local TV time.
ROB: We’d have to make more money if we wanted to do that.
KIMBERLY: That’s what I said.
MR. LITWAK: Now, I’m always somewhat reluctant to invest in startups in these tenuous economic times, so my question is what is your sales strategy?
ROB: That’s the cool thing, we don’t have one!
KIMBERLY: Wow, no, we do. How would that be a cool thing if we didn’t? Listen, our sales strategy will initially involve cold calls to potential calls and as we develop a client base we’ll begin networking for new leads.
MR. LITWAK: Well, that’s awfully optimistic. You just assume you’re going to develop a client base?
KIMBERLY: Of course not, it’s going to involve hard work, tenacity and lots of boot-strap pulling’. Just lots of rugged individualistic hard work-
ROB: Yeah, it’s going to take hard work, tenacious D and food strap pulling.
KIMBERLY: That’s a terrible paraphrase of what I just said.
MR. PASSAMANO: Anyone can just say they’re going to work hard and have tenacity, but we need proof.
MR. MCKELLER: What about marketing?
KIMBERLY: We may have already addressed that.
MR. PASSAMANO: Listen, I think we should see what you’re made of before we give you all of the money, quite honestly.
MR. KISSICK: I agree, we’ll test your mettle by giving you enough money to run your business until Monday, November 19th. If you’ve been able to make inroads by then, we’ll give you the rest of the money. Deal?
KIMBERLY: Uh…sure. Yeah, we can handle it. Right Rob?
KIMBERLY: Why would I ask him? Um, yes. We accept.
MR. MCKELLER: But what about marketing?
ROB: Dude, we’ve covered marketing.
MR. KISSICK: I believe we’ve got a tentative deal.
KIMBERLY: Okay, great. This meeting is adjourned.
(They all get up, shake hands and then the four investors leave and close the door)
ROB: Just out of curiosity, where are we?
KIMBERLY: I’m not exactly sure, how did we get here?
ROB: Let’s just go and figure out how we’re going to develop a client base by Monday.
(Rob and Kimberly start to walk out, but Rob runs into a cob web and freaks out)
KIMBERLY: Are you okay?
ROB: WHY IS THAT THERE?!
(Cut to Ryan and Brennan walking downstairs and into the kitchen)
BRENNAN: You should go get your airsoft gun and we should shoot around Jacob’s feet to get his stoner ass off that couch so we can play Assassin’s Creed 3.
RYAN: Isn’t that the game that takes place in the American Revolution times?
BRENNAN: Yes! So we can so whether we die from a bayonet to the chest or Malaria!
RYAN: Awesome, I’ll go get the gun, it’s in the garage.
BRENNAN: Cool, I’ll get the game.
(Ryan and Brennan walk separate ways. Cut to Ryan walking out his back door and walking over to the garage when suddenly, he notices a blaze in the backyard)
RYAN: OH FUCK.
(Ryan runs inside and goes to the front hall to see Ethan, Kimberly and Rob standing there)
KIMBERLY: Hey, we’re back early.
ETHAN: Turns out the Secessionists meeting was just two syphilitic homeless people on the side of the road.
KIMBERLY: And Rob and I have until Monday to impress the pants off those investors.
RYAN: Guys, there’s a fire in the backyard!
RYAN: There is a FIRE in the GODDAMN BACKYARD!
(Brennan comes in with the game)
BRENNAN: I have the game!
(Jacob comes down stairs)
JACOB: I’m joining the army!
RYAN: THERE’S A FUCKING FIRE!!!!
ROB: WE ONLY HAVE UNTIL MONDAY!!!!
ETHAN: WHAT THE FUCK’S GOING ON!?!?!
BRENNAN: I have the game.
RYAN: Somebody get Logan, we need to move outside and call the fire department.
ETHAN: What if the police force tags along?!
RYAN: Why would that be bad?
ETHAN: Nobody likes a tag-along guy! Okay? And we’re not getting Logan, I’ve had to pay off too many neighbors when he went outside three weeks ago!
RYAN: Throw a mask on him!
ETHAN: I’ve already survived a fire, this faraway shit won’t scathe me-wait, Jacob, you’re doing what?
RYAN: SOMEONE CALL THE POLICE! SOMEONE GET LOGAN! WE CAN DISCUSS ALL OF THIS OUTSIDE!
ROB: Kim, I’ll get the business info!
KIMBERLY: DO IT! QUICKLY!
(Rob runs past Ryan)
RYAN: Oh my God!
(Cut to Ryan, Ethan, Kimberly, Jacob, Rob, Logan and Brennan standing outside their house in blankets while barefoot and in pajamas)
RYAN: So, someone called 911?
ROB: Yeah, just minutes ago.
RYAN: How are we suddenly in blankets, pajamas and with no shoes?
ETHAN: We’re the regulation bewildered family interrupted from our peaceful slumber by a blaze! Hell, I have a corn cob pipe.
(Ethan takes a puff from his corn cob pipe)
BRENNAN: Jacob has a pipe too.
JACOB: Shut up, Brennan.
ETHAN: Jacob, we all know you smoke weed.
JACOB: Yeah, but we don’t have to say it out loud.
KIMBERLY: Okay, who caused this?
RYAN: I don’t know, it was a freak accident! Maybe it was disturbed lone wolf or a smudge on the photograph.
KIMBERLY: THAT is not a smudge!
BRENNAN: Listen, we had nothing to do with this, I swear! You can search me for matches!
(Cut to earlier. Brennan is getting the game from his car. He grabs it, shuts the car door, walks over and sees the blaze. He then panics and throws the matches down the drain. Cut back)
ETHAN: This could’ve been a black male in his 20s.
KIMBERLY: What are you basing that on?
(Farmer John runs out of his house next door with his dogs and pigs running everywhere after him. He then runs over to the Donahues)
FARMER JOHN: Now what in CARNATION is going on here?!
FARMER JOHN: Don’t get bippy with me! There’s got to be an explanation! Maybe one of your boys got done real fire-happy settin’ fires in my town!
(Sirens can be heard in the background as Scott and Evan Alexander walk over and other neighbors come out of their house to witness the fire)
EVAN: What’s going on here?
ETHAN: I’m glad we can liven up you peoples’ boring lives with this fire.
EVAN: No, it’s just…what can I do to help?
ETHAN: Get a glass of fuckin’ tap water and see if that’ll do it!
(Fire trucks, ambulances and police move in as everybody gets out of the way. Firefighters dismount their truck and rush in to fight the flames)
RYAN: Well, it appears as though they have everything under control.
ETHAN: I guess. Now what’s this about Jacob wanting to join the military?
JACOB: Yeah, there were military recruiters at my school and I brushed them off at first, but, after some soul searching, I found the soul of a warrior.
KIMBERLY: There were military recruiters are your High School?
(Kimberly brings Jacob near her and rubs his head gently)
KIMBERLY: Oh this poor boy, brainwashed by the army.
(Jacob leaves her grip)
JACOB: No, that’s not what happened! Look, I realize now that all the pot smoking and the weed smoking and the chronic inhaling has been interfering with our family structure and now I want to reform it! You know, gain discipline!
ETHAN: Jacob, you’re neglecting to mention that one month ago you broke up with your girlfriend because she’s going to a college in Canada.
JACOB: That was mutual! And I say good riddance! I personally think it’s about time I found a calling, a place, somewhere! And what if Ross went into the military? Then he could be the archetypical black soldier with black-brimmed hipster glasses and I could be his white right hand man!
ETHAN: Yeah, just run away with Ross and hold hands in Afghanistan for a couple of tours, it’s so easy when you don’t know the risk!
KIMBERLY: We could lose you, Jacob. We don’t want to lose you.
JACOB: You know, I don’t need your permission. I’m eighteen, I could drop out of high school and join the army tomorrow.
ETHAN: But are you?
ETHAN: Are you, Jacob?
ETHAN: …Are you really?
JACOB: …I guess not.
RYAN: Find yourself here, Jacob. Don’t find yourself in a field of opium ducking stray bullets from the guys who sell you your weed.
JACOB: You think I can afford Afghani weed?
(Four firefighters come back)
FIREFIGHTER: The fire’s been fought. To quote Leveticus, “And the daughter of any priest, if she profanes herself by whoring, profanes her father; she shall be burned with fire.” We just saved a lot of sluts, Mr. Donahue.
ETHAN: Weird way of summing up this situation, but thank you.
FIREFIGHTER: You’re welcome. But I’m going to need to know what happened here. Who started this fire?
RYAN: Sir, isn’t it perfectly possible that this fire happened by random chance?
FIREFIGHTER: Do you know it to be a habit of fires to spring up out of nowhere in the middle of a grassy patch with no nearby electrical wiring?
RYAN: …I’m not an expert, but, I’m going to hazard a guess that the answer is yes.
FIREFIGHTER: That is not what I expected you to say. Listen, somebody started this fire and I need an answer. Do you realize the casualties incurred in this whole ordeal?
ETHAN: What are they?
FIREFIGHTER: An entire garden was charred in the blaze.
FARMER JOHN: WHAT?! GODDAMNIT! Now I’m not a farmer, I’m just a schmuck in overalls!
ETHAN: Ryan, Brennan? Do you have something to tell the nice fireman?
RYAN: We’re not eight.
FIREFIGHTER: That’s true. You two don’t look a day over eighteen.
BRENNAN: We’re seventeen.
FIREFIGHTER: Well thank God juvy’s still an option for young lads like yourself. Because that’s where you’ll be going if you don’t fess it.
ETHAN: Someone’s gotta fess it.
ROB: C’mon, one of you, fess!
FIREFIGHTER: If I had a reality show about fire investigation, I think it’d be called “Fess It”.
ETHAN: I’d watch that.
BRENNAN: Fine. Ryan and I started the fire.
FIREFIGHTER: Great. Mystery cracked.
RYAN: So are there any charges?
FIREFIGHTER: Not unless someone presses them. Otherwise I can just tell my boss that we cracked the case. Now if you’ll excuse me, we’re trying a new “Fahrenheit 451” program, so I’ve got some copies of “Fahrenheit 451” to burn. Bye bye!
(The firefighter mounts on the fire truck and they leave)
ETHAN: Ryan, Brennan, you’re both grounded!
BRENNAN: You can’t ground me!
ETHAN: Fine, but Ryan’s grounded and he can’t hang out with Brennan until further notice!
RYAN: Dad, I said I was sorry!
ETHAN: No you didn’t!
RYAN: Then I’m sorry!
ETHAN: Ryan, you’re rarely held accountable for your actions and that ends TONIGHT! You’re grounded like Neil Armstrong!
RYAN: Wow, too soon.
ETHAN: No, not like grounded as in he’s buried, I mean like, he was a very grounded person.
RYAN: He went to the moon!
ETHAN: YOU ARE GROUNDED! THAT IS THE END OF THE GODDAMN DISCUSSION! BRENNAN, GO HOME! (Brennan runs away) JACOB, STAY IN THE UNITED STATES AND STOP GETTING POTTED UP! ARE WE CLEAR?!
RYAN: …Yes sir.
ETHAN: ARE WE CLEAR, JACOB?
JACOB: Yes sir.
ETHAN: Get in the house.
(Ryan and Jacob shuffle inside while Kimberly, Rob and Logan stand by, surprised. Cut to Ryan and Jacob in Jacob’s room, talking)
JACOB: It’s like, how the fuck is he on a moral high horse with all the corrupt shit he’s gotten himself into? He’s sheltering a fugitive!
RYAN: I don’t know where he gets the balls. It’s fucking ridiculous. Does he really think it’s a good idea to leave an emotionally weak emo kid alone in his room during Thanksgiving break?
JACOB: Yeah and since when is dad anti-military?
RYAN: He’s anti-you joining the military.
JACOB: I could fight for my country. I saw those veterans at the Veteran’s day assembly on Monday, they all seemed so proud!
RYAN: Yeah they did. Although it was hard to tell whether the WWII veterans were proud of their brave sacrifice or proud that they were still somewhat ambulatory.
JACOB: Don’t even get me started on how proud the WWI vets looked.
RYAN: What are you talking about, they’re all dead!
JACOB: No, I’m pretty sure there was one proud 117 year old in that group.
RYAN: Listen, I know that without weed your friends wouldn’t mean much to you with the notable exception of Ross, but the military is a dangerous organization, Jacob. You know I couldn’t bear losing you.
JACOB: …I know. Maybe it was impulsive, I don’t know.
JACOB: Anyway, I should probably get some sleep.
RYAN: It’s three o’clock.
(Ryan leaves the room and Jacob lies down. Cut to Kimberly and Rob in the computer room working profusely. Rob and Kimberly are both on the phone)
KIMBERLY: Mr. Dawson, do you want to play racquetball? You don’t? Well shit, that’s a shame. I have a deal for you! Hello?
(Kimberly hangs up)
ROB: Mr. Cordova, racquetball is like football, but with racquets instead of foots. Yes, I realize the plural of foot is feet, do you realize the plural of you is meet, as in, meet me in the middle? Malcolm?
KIMBERLY: Hang up!
(Rob hangs up and turns around)
ROB: Jesus, that was bad.
KIMBERLY: Mr. Self-awareness has made an appearance.
ROB: Maybe we should do a refresher on sales skills.
KIMBERLY: No kidding. Let’s go through this once more.
(Cut to Jacob lying awake at 10pm. He rolls over and gets the recruitment sheet out of his backpack and sees General Noah DePinto’s number on the sheet. He sits up, takes out his cell phone and calls him. Cut to General DePinto on his couch playing a video game. His cell phone rings and he answers it)
GENERAL DEPINTO: This is Noah.
JACOB: (On the phone) Hello, General. Sorry to call you at this hour, but, I’m the kid who lashed out at you for no reason during lunch today.
GENERAL DEPINTO: Ah, yes. I remember. Don’t worry, you weren’t interrupting anything, I was just playing a video game.
JACOB: Sweet, you play video games? What is it like, Call of Duty? Fallout?
GENERAL DEPINTO: Um…(Pan to reveal he’s playing Kirby) sure.
JACOB: Okay, well…I’ve been thinking about the military and, I talked to my parents about it and they hate the idea.
GENERAL DEPINTO: Understandable.
JACOB: But it’s sounding more appealing to me the more I bop it around in my head.
GENERAL DEPINTO: Well, that’s usually the beginning of a good private.
JACOB: Yeah, I guess…hey listen, how about we meet somewhere tomorrow and discuss my options?
GENERAL DEPINTO: Why not tonight?
GENERAL DEPINTO: Absolutely. Jacob, I see a lost boy in your eyes. You have the makings of a General Patton or Odierno or Petraeus or Grievous. You could do great things defending this country.
JACOB: Well, that’s very flattering sir. Do I really want the makings of a General Petraeus?
GENERAL DEPINTO: Physically, especially in the bunker area, you do.
JACOB: Okay. Well…what’s your address?
GENERAL DEPINTO: 233 Sparrow Lane, Hansbay, Vermont in the greatest country on Earth, the United States of America.
JACOB: That street name sounds familiar.
GENERAL DEPINTO: A lot of Generals live on this street.
JACOB: Okay. I’ll be over pronto.
GENERAL DEPINTO: Cool beans.
JACOB: Would not expect a General to say that, anyway, bye.
(Jacob hangs up, as does General DePinto. Cut to Michelle, in her pajamas, taking out the trash in her neighborhood. She puts the trash can and the recycling in the side of the road. Then, she sees Jacob’s car pull up to a house a couple houses down. She looks at this peculiar appearance and sees Jacob get out of the car. He then walks to the house and knocks. General DePinto opens the door and invites him inside, giving Michelle pause. Cut to the charred remains of the fence. A single spark blows from the chars and is sent into the sky as the camera pans up to follow it)
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