“MORNING IN THE DONAHUES”
"The ultimate determinate in the struggle now going on for the world will not be bombs and rockets but a test of wills and ideas - a trial of spiritual resolve; the values we hold, the beliefs we cherish and the ideas to which we are dedicated."
(We start in May 1985 in a Middlebury College classroom. Everybody is wearing 80s clothing. A professor is talking. The chalk board reads “Wednesday, May 15, 1985” and “Political Science 101”)
PROFESSOR: The essence of politics is the art of communication. President Reagan has been called the Great Gipper. He can gip his policies all day long and make his opponents look like Indian Gippers. How do you think he crushed Mondale-Ferraro in 49 states last year? Reagan is such a great communicator he convinced John Hinckley Junior to attempt to murder him to impress Jodie Foster! And if Hinckley wasn’t in the looney bin right now, that boy-crazy heterosexual Jodie Foster would probably be convinced to date Hinckley if Reagan communicated to her that it was a good idea. That’s real power. Any questions? (A 19-year old Ethan raises his hand) Anyone? Anyone? Donahue? Donahue?
ETHAN: Yes, I’m right here, I’m raising my hand.
PROFESSOR: Great, no questions, class dismissed.
(The bell rings and people start getting up. Ethan gets up and goes over to a gum-chewing girl with frizzy hair, acid-wash jeans and an 80s sweater)
ETHAN: Hey, Molly.
MOLLY: Hey, Ethan.
ETHAN: Why is Professor Kernwood so opposed to calling on me?
MOLLY: You’re way too involved in the class, it probably creeps him out.
ETHAN: Creeps him out? If we all came here every day to stare at him for two hours without saying anything, that’d be way creepier.
MOLLY: (Laughs) That’s true. Let’s go to your dorm.
(Cut to Ethan and Molly on the couch in Ethan’s dorm. An 80s TV is playing the news. The news shows a newscaster with a mustache reporting the news)
NEWSCASTER: Welcome to Middlebury News at five. I’m Daniel Kasichstein. Today a package was sent to the University of California at Berkeley that contained an explosive that severely injured a graduate student named John Hauser. He lost four fingers on his right hand, severed an artery in his right arm and partially lost vision in his left eye. The package is believed to have been sent by the notorious unnamed assailant, the Unabomber. Meanwhile, Middlebury Channel Five News conducts an investigation into whether the Government contaminated welfare checks with AIDS or sprinkled crack cocaine on Martin Luther King Junior stamps.
ETHAN: God, he sent a bomb to a college. He could send one here, you know!
MOLLY: Don’t be silly, he’s probably just trying to impress Molly Ringwald.
ETHAN: If I threw a Grenade at Vice President Bush, would you finally try reverse cowgirl with me?
(Molly looks at Ethan lustfully and then the two start making out. Cut to a 17-year old Kimberly at lunch with some friends at Winthrop High School in Winthrop, Massachusetts)
GIRL: Gun to your head, would you bang Michael Jackson or Moammar Gadhafi?
KIMBERLY: Well, they both wear similar clothes, but I think Michael Jackson.
GIRL 2: I would only bang Michael Jackson if he was white, I don’t want to get AIDs.
KIMBERLY: Wow, that’s really racist.
GIRL 2: Kim, my dad told me AIDs can be transferred through the tears of Afro-Americans and queers, especially queer Afro-Americans.
GIRL: That’s why I never let black guys cry on me.
(A ringing is heard)
KIMBERLY: Sorry, I have to take this. (Kimberly takes out a massive mid-1980s brick cellular telephone, extends the antenna and answers) Hello?
KAY: (On the phone) Kimberly, it’s your mother! Your brother had an accident at school and you need to pick him up, your father and I are indisposed.
KIMBERLY: Rob had an accident? Did he, um…soil himself?
KAY: No, he attempted to bury himself alive in the school’s backyard.
KAY: Hey! Don’t say the Lord’s name in vain!
KIMBERLY: Sorry. But mom, I have detention after school.
KAY: Just take Rob with you, I’m sure he’ll be good entertainment, just like that Johnny Carson, he’s going to be the next Johnny Carson, you know!
KIMBERLY; He’s seven years old, he could be the next Unabomber for all you know. I mean, he buried himself today!
KAY: Don’t be flippant with me, young woman. Now go pick up your brother.
KIMBERLY: Fine. How’s dad?
KAY: He’s watching Family Ties, Johnny Carson’s great on that show.
KIMBERLY: Johnny Carson’s not on that show.
KAY: He might as well be, it’s great.
KAY: Bye, love you, Kimmy.
KIMBERLY: Love you too.
(Kimberly hangs up, retracts the antenna and put the phone in her purse)
GIRL: I didn’t know you had one of those cellular telephones.
KIMBERLY: Yeah, Molly, I do!
GIRL 2: How much was it?
KIMBERLY: Molly, it was 4,000 dollars, I got it for my seventeenth birthday, t’was my only gift.
MOLLY 2: Jesus Christ, was that worth it?
KIMBERLY: It totally was, Molly. I’m sorry, there are too many Mollies at this table, can we have some distinguishing factors here?
MOLLY: We changed our names to Molly after I watched The Breakfast Club three months ago. Molly Ringwald is magical.
KIMBERLY: It’s just a little confusing.
(Molly takes out hairspray and sprays her hair excessively, making others uncomfortable)
KIMBERLY: That’s a lot of hairspray.
(Molly stops spraying)
MOLLY: Well, I have a lot of hair, Molly.
KIMBERLY: My name’s not Molly, how about this? Molly Bridenstine, you can be called Molly, Molly Emerson, you can just be called Emerson.
EMERSON: How about Ringwald?
KIMBERLY: Oh my God, fine.
EMERSON: Anyway, I’ll see you in detention.
KIMBERLY: Tubular. Bye.
(Kimberly gets up and walks away. Cut to her driving her 1976 Chevy Chevette into the parking lot of Winthrop Elementary School. She parks, gets out and is jamming out to “Don’t You Forget About Me” by Simple Minds on her Walkman. She walks into the school, takes off her headphones and sees the Principal standing next to a dirt-covered seven year old Rob)
PRINCIPAL: This young man was trying to bury himself to, and I quote, “make his mark on the world. Say, can you hand me that shovel? I gossa set a world record. Time’s runnin’ out and I’m getting’ thirsty. Say, you got any-“
KIMBERLY: You don’t have to say the entire quote, I’m sure Rob has learned his lesson. Rob, burying yourself is extremely dangerous, even if it’s to set a world record.
ROB: I want to be remembered for something, Kimmy.
KIMBERLY: You’ll grow up to be a fine and accomplished young man, Rob. Just give it time. Mom says you’ll be the next Johnny Carson.
PRINCIPAL: This young man will be Jay Leno at best.
KIMBERLY: Who the hell is Jay Leno?
PRINCIPAL: He’s an actor; he played a journalist in the move Polyester in 1981.
KIMBERLY: Okay, I’m going to take Rob and go.
(The Principal walks away and Rob comes with Kimberly and they exit the school. Cut to a 23-year old Brian Sarandon sitting in a nice office in New York City with a 52-year old Spencer Sarandon. They are both wearing typical 1980s suits and are both smoking cigars)
SPENCER: So, Brian…do you really want Wall Street to be your new career path?
BRIAN: Absolutely, dad. I think it’s my calling in life.
SPENCER: Well, everybody has to find their calling. And a lot of people find it in the stripper tape.
SPENCER: Ticker tape I said. I thought my calling was advertising, but two years ago when they passed the Garn-St. German act which deregulated depository institutions, I was like, shit! I need to get in on this business. You see Brian, you can change career paths at any point in your life, it doesn’t matter if you’re over fifty, even.
BRIAN: Well, I’ve heard you can make a lot of money in this business, so I’m excited.
SPENCER: Well, I’m glad. Capitalism is what separates us from the goddamn dirty soviets. You see, in Soviet Russia, the government regulates banks, in America, the banks regulate you!
BRIAN: I don’t think you’re getting that joke right.
SPENCER: What joke?
BRIAN: The-never mind.
SPENCER: Anyway, if you think you’re up to it, then you’re hired.
BRIAN: Thanks, dad.
SPENCER: You’re welcome, son.
BRIAN: Do you want to show me the ropes?
(Cut to Brian and Spencer standing on the floor of the New York Stock Exchange)
SPENCER: Um, so In order to take advantage of the real estate boom and high interest rates of the last ten years-HEY DANNY! HEY DANNY, YOU SON OF A BITCH, HOW’S YOUR WHORE WIFE? SHE STILL FAT? HA! I love Danny, his wife is so dumb.
BRIAN: Fat, dumb and a whore?
SPENCER: Sure, sure, anyway, we own a savings and loan, so our job is to lend A LOT of money, even to ventures that we don’t really know how to assess properly-MARK! MARK! HOW’S YOUR WHORE MAID? SHE STILL FAT? HA! I love Mark, his maid is so dumb.
SPENCER: Anyway, a lot of the business ventures we lend money to, hand-over fist are commercial real estate ventures. You understand?
BRIAN: I guess, it would probably be easier to understand if you weren’t constantly shouting at your friends about how fat, dumb and slutty people they know are-
SPENCER: HEY CRAIG! HOW’S YOUR WHORE PLUMBER?
(Cut to Brian sitting behind a desk and talking to a hapless young man in a dusty suit)
BRIAN: So, Mr. Cohen, you’re looking for a loan for your real estate operation?
MR. COHEN: Yes, please lend me this money, look at how hapless. I am just, so out of hap. There’s no hap here.
BRIAN: Indeed, you look disheveled, anxious and penniless. However, I can’t just lend money out to anybody.
MR. COHEN: Oh, say it ain’t so, Mr. Sarandon.
BRIAN: Luckily, I can lend money out to almost everybody.
MR. COHEN: Yes! What do I have to do?
BRIAN: Well, let me review your submission here. I may only be 23, but I am a Real Estate expert. Let me look at your submission. (He opens the manila folder, doesn’t even glance at it and closes it) Looks good. Now, let me do the oral review. (Brian takes out one of those handheld dentist’s lights and gets up, walks over to Mr. Cohen) Open, please. (He opens his mouth and Mayor Sarandon shines the light in it) You have remarkably healthy gums. (He turns off the light and goes back to sitting behind his desk as Mr. Cohen shuts his mouth) Your loan is approved, Mr. Cohen.
(Brian stamps the folder)
MR. COHEN: Oh my God, thank you so much, Mr. Sarandon!
(Mr. Cohen gets up and shakes Brian’s hand)
BRIAN: You are so welcome, don’t fuck it up!
(Cut to Brian and Spencer at a big gala full of men in suits at some fancy hotel ball room. There are many venerable guests, ice sculptures and there is an orchestra playing classical music and a numerous dinner tables. There is a stage with a podium and a banner behind it reading “HAPPY 49TH BIRTHDAY, MARCUS SWINDALL, MAY 20, 1936 TO MAY 20, 1985”)
BRIAN: Wow, there are a lot of people here.
SPENCER: I know, it’s pretty “gnarly” as you kids say.
BRIAN: How vain do you have to be to throw a huge bash for your 49th birthday?
SPENCER: What’s wrong with it?
BRIAN: I mean, I could kind of understand it for your 50th birthday, but why 49th?
SPENCER: Honestly, Mark is lucky he’s made it to 49 without having a heart attack considering all the cocaine he does-MARK, COME OVER HERE!
(Mark walks over with two blondes in tow)
MARK: (Talking quickly) Hey there Brian, hey there Spencer, it’s my 49th birthday, he big 4-9, WOO! I woke up this morning, I felt exactly like I did yesterday morning when I was 48, except I had to go to work, HA HA HA HA! ‘Cause it’s a Monday, who’s this, Spencer?
SPENCER: This is my 23-year old son, Brian. He’s new to the savings and loan game.
MARK: Hi Brian, you look like a good kid, nice strong, muscular, good, listen Spencer, where were you at the after party?
SPENCER: When was the after party?
MARK: It was before the party.
SPENCER: Sorry, I thought it was after.
MARK: Well there’s another after party after the party, so come, bring a long Brandon!
MARK: Great! Bye, see ya!
(He walks away with the blondes)
SPENCER: Bye, Mark.
BRIAN: He was so clearly coked up.
SPENCER: Yeah. Speaking of coke, could you grab me a New Coke at the refreshments table?
BRIAN: You actually drink New Coke?
SPENCER: It’s so underrated; it tastes like a sales ploy.
(Cut to Ethan laying naked in bed next to Molly)
MOLLY: Oh my God, that was incredible.
ETHAN: Yeah…I told you you would like it.
MOLLY: You were right on the money.
(Ethan holds up a 100 dollar bill)
ETHAN: I thought involving the money was a little bit weird.
MOLLY: It made it dirtier.
ETHAN: Yeah, I certainly have to get this 100-dollar bill exchanged unless I want to spend it at a fish market. (Molly laughs, as does Ethan and they move close to each other) So, uh…I’m getting a degree in political science, you know that right?
MOLLY: Of course. I know how much you admire Reagan and the whole conservative movement.
ETHAN: We just had sex because I said I wanted to throw a grenade at Vice President Bush.
MOLLY: Ethan, what did I tell you about talking about the reasons we have sex?
ETHAN: I’m just saying, I might be a politician someday and I hope you don’t mind that.
MOLLY: Ethan, I have no vendettas against politicians.
ETHAN: Then why do you get off on the idea of me attempting to kill one?
MOLLY: Ugh, I don’t know, maybe it’s the bad boy perception, I don’t want you to ever do it and I don’t want it to ever happen, but in the heat of the moment, it just seems…irresistibly sexy.
ETHAN: That I would kill a politician for you?
MOLLY: Not that I would ever want you or anyone else to do that, it’s just-it’s a fantasy, not a fantasy really, just a, torrid fetish.
ETHAN: Yeah, it’s just a little bizarre.
MOLLY: Oh, so now I’m bizarre?
ETHAN: Don’t put words in my mouth-
MOLLY: Ooh, putting a gun in Speaker Tip O’Neill’s mouth.
ETHAN: Oh my God.
(Ethan gets up and walks to the other side of the room, clutching his forehead as Molly gets up)
ETHAN: I don’t know, you just got wet thinking of a 72-year old man on the brink of death.
MOLLY: Only because your hot, naked body was holding the gun in his mouth, for me!
ETHAN: Why do you think that’s better?
MOLLY: Ethan, are you feeling guilty? We’re all just animals, remember?
ETHAN: That’s not what my faith teaches me.
MOLLY: What did I tell you about bring God into this?
ETHAN: Don’t talk about God like he’s a nine-year old boy, I can bring him into this if I want!
MOLLY: Just leave him alone!
ETHAN: I have to go to class.
(Ethan throws on his underwear, pants, socks, shoes and shirt and walks out of the room)
MOLLY: We’ll talk later, my little assassin!
(Ethan growls off camera. Cut to Ethan at some diner, eating with another college student who has long hair, an armless jean jacket, a Motley Crue t-shirt and fingerless gloves)
COLLEGE KID: Ethan, I’m concerned that the Soviet Union has lost its way.
ETHAN: What was its way exactly, besides mass murder, Arlen?
ARLEN: They used to be more about socialism and equality, but now they’re just fuckin’ capitalists with bags over their heads.
ETHAN: I think they also eat bags, listen, they are still socialist and socialism results in bread lines, poverty, totalitarian rule and of course-
ARLEN: Great comedians. (Yakov Smirnoff) “What a country!”
ETHAN: I was gonna say international animus.
ARLEN: Have you read the manifesto yet?
ETHAN: No, not until you read Ayn Rand.
ARLEN: I would read it just to make you feel better, but then again, why should I care about you?
ETHAN: Nice. I would read the Communist manifesto, but that would be unfair to all the illiterate kids out there, how about we start a program promoting literacy so we can all read it?
ARLEN: That actually sounds like a really good idea.
ETHAN: Goddamnit, it did.
ARLEN: How are you and Molly by the way?
ETHAN: Ugh, I don’t know, we had a fight today.
ARLEN: About what?
ETHAN: The fetish.
ARLEN: Ah. You’re still not used to it?
ETHAN: Like, I know she doesn’t actually want me to kill any politicians, but I just find it weird that she gets her jollies from the thought. I want to make her feel good, but I’m also kind of disturbed that the day Reagan was shot may have been a good day for her.
ARLEN: Ethan, she’s a freshman, she was probably like fourteen when that happened.
ETHAN: I know, it’s just-why does she like it so much?
ARLEN: Don’t question a girl’s fetishes, okay? You’re getting your dick wet and that’s all that matters.
ETHAN: You know how I feel about that terminology.
ARLEN: You’re such a prude, so wrapped up in shame about your body like a Gremlin in a basket, live a little!
ETHAN: I’ve been living a little for the last two years here in college, but that was because my parents finally set me free. Now I just feel like everything I do sexually with Molly is wrong.
ARLEN: We’re all just animals!
ETHAN: I really wish people would stop saying that! If we’re all just animals and torrid unabashed monkey sex is fine, why do I feel guilty?
ETHAN: A society that glorifies sex! Have you seen Molly Ringwald?
ARLEN: Yeah, but I prefer Ms. Pac-man. I mean…look at her.
ETHAN: Speaking of which, let’s go to the arcade.
(Cut to Ethan driving his 1979 Toyota Corolla with Arlen in the passenger seat)
ARLEN: I have a mix tape.
ETHAN: Fine, put it in.
(Arlen puts in the mix tape and it starts playing “Heaven’s On Fire” by KISS. Ten seconds pass)
ARLEN: Ah, you’re right, it sucks.
(Arlen takes out the tape)
ETHAN: I never said it sucked!
ARLEN: Yeah, but ever since KISS stopped wearing the make-up that makes them look like gothic Ronald McDonalds, it just isn’t the same listening to music.
ETHAN: Music isn’t supposed to be visual.
ARLEN: I just wish their face paint would seep out of the speakers. (Cut to Ethan and Arlen at the arcade. Arlen is playing PAC-MAN while Ethan watches) Get the puck-looking guy!
ETHAN: I am the puck-looking guy.
ARLEN: I thought you were the ghost!
ETHAN: Have you ever played PAC-MAN before?
ARLEN: Yeah, yeah…so you’re the dot?
ETHAN: Oh my God.
(Arlen looks over and sees a poster reading “THURSDAY, MAY 16, 1985- LIEUTENANT GOVERNOR PETER PLYMPTON SMITH WILL SPEAK AT MIDDLEBURY TOWN HALL, ALL ARE WELCOME”)
ARLEN: Hey, Ethan.
ARLEN: Peter Plympton Smith is speaking at Middlebury Town Hall tomorrow.
ETHAN: Who the hell is Peter Plympton Smith?
ARLEN: Apparently, he’s the lieutenant governor of Vermont under Lady Governor Kunin.
ETHAN: HA! His boss is a lady. (Southern lady accent) “Oh my, Mr. Smith, can you fetch me my pretty feather? I have to tickle the bears of Vermont forests to death.”
ARLEN: Why is the Governor of Vermont have a southern accent?
ETHAN: I don’t know man-(Gasps) Wait; did you say Lieutenant Governor Smith is speaking tomorrow?
(Ethan dies on Pac-Man and turns around)
ETHAN: Oh my God Arlen, that’s perfect! I’ll tell Molly that I plan to assassinate Lieutenant Governor Smith and if she calls me crazy I’ll know she’s not crazy and if she encourages me I’ll know she’s crazy!
ARLEN: It’s fool-proof! But what if she turns you in? Threatening to kill a Lieutenant Governor of a state with 500,000 people is probably punishable by like, a small fine or maybe writing a letter of contrition to a judge.
ETHAN: It’s risky, but it’s the only way to salvage my relationship.
ARLEN: Alright, then go for it.
ETHAN: You really think so?
ARLEN: You were the one who-
ETHAN: You’re right, you’re right, you’re right, here I go.
(Ethan walks into the apartment with a handgun in his pocket. Molly comes out of the bedroom)
MOLLY: Hey how was class- whoa, what’s with the weapon?
ETHAN: It’s the second amendment, Molls.
MOLLY: I guess.
ETHAN: Hey Molls, I had an idea today.
MOLLY: Stop calling me Molls, but what’s the idea?
ETHAN: …I heard Lieutenant Governor Peter Plympton Smith is coming to town tomorrow. I’m going to kill him. For you.
MOLLY: Oh…wow. Um, that’s…are you serious?
(Ethan unsheathes his gun, pointing it at the ground)
ETHAN: Death serious, so to speak.
MOLLY: Wow, that’s…I supposed there’s no harm in trying?
MOLLY: Are you really going to like…(Breathes heavily) pop a bullet into the back of his brain?
ETHAN: Whichever part of his body that contains his soul. The esophagus, I think.
(Ethan looks stunned. Cut to Kimberly, Rob, a goth, a prep, a jock, Molly Emerson and a priest sitting at a table in the library of Winthrop High School. A mustached teacher walks in)
MUSTACHED TEACHER: Alright, you no-good vagabonds. Why do you think you guys are here?
KIMBERLY: Because I skipped my second period class on Tuesday.
MUSTACHED MAN: Yes! And I made a point of gathering a veritable Noah’s Ark of subcultures in the same room so you guys could bond and discover that you’re more complicated than your respective stereotypes. We have the jock, the goth, the prep, the smart chick (referring to Kimberly), the dumb popular chick and the priest. Actually, I may have confused The Breakfast Club with “guy walks into a bar” jokes at a certain point.
PRIEST: So do I have to be here?
MUSTACHED MAN: HEY! Don’t mouth off at me young man; you’re in detention for a reason! Don’t make me bring the Rabbi in here too.
PRIEST: I’m 53 years old!
MUSTACHED MAN: So basically, you guys are going to remain quiet for nine hours, no talking, no listening to your Walkman, no playing PAC-MAN, nothing.
KIMBERLY: I skipped one class, isn’t nine hours a little excessive? We’ll be here until 1AM.
MUSTACHED MAN: What did I tell ya ‘bout mouthin’ off?!
MUSTACHED MAN: Great. Now keep quiet, I’m going to go make copies for a couple hours. Trust system!
(The teacher leaves)
JOCK: …So I guess we’re supposed to bond or whatever.
KIMBERLY: Yeah…so what’s your name?
KIMBERLY: Cool. Jack the Jock. What are your interests?
KIMBERLY: Any others-
KIMBERLY: Alright then. What does your dad do?
JACK: He’s a coach.
KIMBERLY: Do you like him?
JACK: Yeah, I have a great relationship with my dad because we both love sports.
KIMBERLY: I bet there’s some tension between you and your mom.
JACK: Naw, we get along great too, she also loves sports.
KIMBERLY: Wow, okay, what about you, Goth?
GOTH: My name’s Rodney. I cut. I drink. I’m depressed.
KIMBERLY: Well, those are all stereotypes of your culture, but what is unique about you?
RODNEY: Um…I like metal.
KIMBERLY: Swing and a miss, prep, what’s your deal?
PREP: My name’s Stewart and I love school spirit and team spirit and bright clothing; they’re my favorite things ever!
KIMBERLY: …Is there a chance your gay?
KIMBERLY: Okay, so everybody’s still comfortably within the confines of their stereotype. Priest, what about you?
PRIEST: I enjoy praying, reading the bible and listening to the flock.
KIMBERLY: C’mon, you must do something cool.
PRIEST: Well…I have a friend at the Vatican named Joe Ratzinger, one time we replaced Leviticus 8:15 in Pope John Paul II’s bible with Deuteronomy 12:31. HA! Classic.
KIMBERLY: That’s a little badass, for a priest at least.
PRIEST: Yeah, Joe and I also covered up a bunch of molestation allegations once-
ROB: I’m bored!
JACK: Yeah, why is this little kid here?
KIMBERLY: He’s my half-brother, he’s seven.
JACK: Seven years old?
KIMBERLY: No, seven feet, yes seven years old!
JACK: Whoa, someone’s bleeding out of their hole this time of month.
KIMBERLY: Yeah, you’re definitely not deeper than your stereotype.
EMERSON: Why don’t we do what they did in the Breakfast Club?
KIMBERLY: Argue and smoke pot?
KIMBERLY: You must think that life is just like movies and TV and that people can get away with doing drugs at any time and at any place!
(Cut to late April 2012. Ryan, Jacob, Brennan, Sarah and Beckett are sitting in the cafeteria serving room getting high during the tornado lockdown. Cut to mid-February 2013. Michelle, Coin, Brennan, Chris Hayes, Trey and Colleen are standing in Cooper’s house. Chris Hayes lights a pipe and inhales the smoke and then exhales it. Chris passes the pipe to Trey, who then inhales and exhales the smoke. Trey passes the pipe to Colleen, who lights the bowl and inhales the smoke and then exhales it. Cut to Ryan at his apartment-warming party in early May 2012)
RYAN: Hey, I laid out cough syrup and ecstasy for everybody to enjoy! (Cut to Ryan, sweating and clearly on ecstasy in his apartment talking to Jacob and Kirsten while other surround) WE’RE ALL PART OF ONE BIG WORLD ANYWAY, WHY SHOULD WE BE ASHAMED OF OUR BODIES, YOU KNOW, IT’S SOCIETY-
(Cut to Cullen and Jacob in the ditch in Cullen’s backyard in early January 2013. Jacob just took a hit off of a bong and is exhaling the smoke. His eyes are already relaxed)
CULLEN: Dude…isn’t this nice? Smoking weed in a ditch. I feel like J.R.R. Tolkien during World War I getting blazed and writing The Hobbit.
(Jacob hands Cullen the bong and Cullen lights it. Cut back)
JACK: Don’t lecture me on media influences, okay? Space Invaders almost compelled me to slaughter innocents.
KIMBERLY: That is a violent game. Anyway, how would we even get pot?
EMERSON: I buried some in the experimental garden out back.
RODNEY: Then go get it!
EMERSON: Father, would you mind?
PRIEST: Genesis 1:3, LET THERE BE LIGHT!
(Cut to Kimberly, Rodney, Stewart, the Priest, Molly Emerson and Rob sitting in a circle in between book shelves in the library. Kimberly is puffing on a joint. She inhales and then exhales)
KIMBERLY: God, I don’t think weed is going to get much stronger than this.
(Kimberly hands the joint to Rodney)
RODNEY: Are you kidding me? Have you ever done ecstasy?
(He takes a hit on the joint and hands the joint to Stewart)
KIMBERLY: What’s ecstasy?
(Stewart takes a hit and hands it to Molly)
RODNEY: Ecstasy is an awesome drug that causes euphoria and intimacy, it’s not even illegal yet, but apparently it’s going to be illegal in two weeks, so I’m kind of hording it right now.
(Molly inhales and exhales)
MOLLY: So I guess your future son won’t have the pleasure of doing ecstasy.
RODNEY: Are you kidding me? Legal or not, my kid and I are going to do ecstasy.
KIMBERLY: God, I hope my kid doesn’t turn out goth.
MOLLY: Father Moynihan, would you like a hit?
FATHER MOYNIHAN: Vos tantum vivere semel. (Father Moynihan takes a hit) Does the young one want a hit?
KIMBERLY: Definitely not.
ROB: I want a hit!
KIMBERLY: No you don’t, Rob, trust me.
ROB: What’s the point of even being here?!
KIMBERLY: I don’t know, but you don’t even know what cannabis is.
ROB: Yeah, he discovered America.
KIMBERLY: Yes he did.
MOLLY: Hand the joint to somebody, Father Moynihan.
(Father Moynihan passes the joint to Kimberly, who takes a hit)
KIMBERLY: So. Who here is deeper than their stereotype?
EMERSON: People always assume that I hairspray my pubicare. I don’t, for the record.
KIMBERLY: Right, but once again, we’re focusing on superficial physicalities, what about deeper meaning? (Kimberly hands the joint to Rodney, who takes a hit) Has anybody besides Rodney contemplated suicide? (Silence) Who here is a compulsive liar?
EMERSON: I’m not a compulsive liar.
KIMBERLY: Okay, Emerson, I’ve known you for about a year, I know you’re a compulsive liar.
EMERSON: That’s weird, because I’m not.
KIMBERLY: Where did you tell me you were from when we first met?
KIMBERLY: Where are you from?
EMERSON: Kansas City.
KIMBERLY: How long did it take for you to admit that?
EMERSON: A week?
KIMBERLY: Eleven months.
EMERSON: No, we met in ’82.
KIMBERLY: You’re still lying!
(Cut to Brian and Spencer in a dark, opulent palace filled with partying Wall Street execs. There are also hired strippers and tables with cocaine on them. The song “Cocaine” by Eric Clapton plays in the background)
BRIAN: WOW, IT’S LOUD IN HERE!
SPENCER: I KNOW, IT MAKES ME FEEL LIKE A KID AGAIN!
BRIAN: DID YOU SPEND A LOT OF TIME DOING COCAINE AS KID?
SPENCER: NO! SO I GUESS IT MAKES ME FEEL LIKE A KID FOR THE FIRST TIME!
BRIAN: WHAT’S COCAINE LIKE?
SPENCER: IT MAKES YOU INSANELY HAPPY FOR THE TIME BEING!
(Cut to Mark straightening out a line of coke on a coffee table with Yahtzee cards)
MARK: BINGO, BITCHES!
(He snorts a line as people cheer)
SPENCER: SEE THAT? YAHTZEE CARDS? THAT’S AN EXTREMELY UNCLASSY WAY TO DO COCAINE, LET ME SHOW YOU THE CLASSY WAY.
(Spencer and Brian walk over to that coffee table)
SPENCER: LET ME SHOW YOU HOW A REAL COKEHEAD DOES IT, MARK! (Spencer takes out a baggie of coke and sets it on the table. He opens the bag and sprinkles coke onto the table. He then takes out two gold bricks and straightens the line) THAT’S CLASS! (Singing) IF YOU GAVE A LOAN, TO SOME GUY WHO SELLS HOMES; COCAINE!
(They all laugh)
BRIAN: SPEAKING OF THAT, ARE YOU SURE WE’RE PROPERLY ASSESSING THE VALUE OF THESE REAL ESTATE VENTURES?
SPENCER: WHO HAS A STRAW? (Someone hands him a paper straw from Wendy’s) THANK YOU! (Spencer snorts the line) AGH! FUCK!
BRIAN: YOU KNOW, THE GOLD BARS WERE CLASSY, I’M NOT SURE ABOUT THE WENDY’S STRAW THOUGH!
SPENCER: BRIAN, DON’T BE A BUZZKILL KID, THERE’S NO BUSINESS TALK HERE, KID! (Spencer stands up and faces Brian, speaking really quickly) HAVE YOUEVER REALIZED HOW EVERY SECOND OF EVERY DAYS PASSES LIKE THAT, THAT, THAT, YOU DON’T EVEN HAVE TIME TO CATCH YOUR BREATH, GODDAMN, WHAT DOES AIR TASTE LIKE I WONDER? I WONDER THINGS THROUGHOUT THE DAY, I SHOULD PUBLISH A BOOK CALLED “SHIT I WONDER” BY SPENCER SARANDON AND NO IT’S NOT ABOUT SHITTING ON STEVIE WONDER ALTHOUGH THAT IS AN IDEA!
SPENCER: LET’S DANCE!
BRIAN: I’VE KNOWN YOU FOR NEARLY TWENTY-FOUR YEARS, NOT ONCE HAVE YOU EVER ASKED ME TO DANCE WITH YOU!
SPENCER: ON COKE I’M KINDER, GENTLER, NICER AND FUNNER!
BRIAN: …FAIR ENOUGH!
(Spencer and Brian start dancing)
(Spencer stops, as does Brian)
SPENCER: YOU NEED TO DO COKE FIRST, OTHERWISE, YOU’RE NOT GOING TO BE ABLE TO KEEP UP WITH ME!
BRIAN: Oh. Um…
SPENCER: C’MON SON, DO COKE WITH YOUR FATHER!
BRIAN: Um, OKAY! I GUESS! (Brian walks over to the coffee table and makes a line with his father’s coke) Straw, please? (Someone hands him a Taco Bell straw) I guess that’s better. (Brian, hesitantly, and eventually snorts a small line) AGH! FUCK! JESUS CHRIST!
(They all laugh)
RANDOM CEO: That was me once!
(Cut to Spencer and Brian dancing frantically, hopped up on coke while “Cocaine” still plays)
BRIAN: THIS IS SO MUCH FUN! THERE’S SO MANY PEOPLE! I THINK I RECOGNIZE SOME OF THESE PEOPLE TOO!
SPENCER: YEAH! ORIGINALLY I INVITED THIS GUY FROM THE NEW YORK PUBLIC INTEREST RESEARCH GROUP NAMED BARRY, THE VICE PRESIDENT’S SON AND THE GOVERNOR OF ARKNASAS TO COME SNORT COKE WITH US, BUT THEY SAID THEY HAD OTHER COKE PARTIES TO BE AT!
BRIAN: I SEE, DO YOU THINK I COULD JUMP THROUGH THAT FISH TANK AND SURVIVE?!
(The camera pans to a transparent fish tank located in a wall)
(Brian runs toward the fish tank and begins to jump. Before he hits the fish tank, we cut to Ethan talking on a payphone outside of his dormitory building)
ETHAN: So she agreed.
ARLEN: (On the phone) Are you kidding me?
ETHAN: No, she “reluctantly” accepted the idea.
ARLEN: Christ. Did you chew her out?
ETHAN: No, I agreed too.
ETHAN: I’m not going to do it, but…I just want to see how far I can take her before she stops me.
ARLEN: What if she takes you to within in an inch of Lieutenant Governor Smith’s life?
ETHAN: Then I’ll chew her out.
ARLEN: Jesus. This is a fucked up little debacle.
ETHAN: Yeah. If she goes though, I’m going to miss that bod.
ARLEN: Yeah, that murder and sex-driven bod.
ETHAN: Goddamnit, I have to go.
(Ethan hangs up. Cut to the town hall room where Lieutenant Governor Smith is speaking. It is filled with citizens of Middlebury. Ethan and Molly enter the room)
MOLLY: Where’s your gun?
ETHAN: Shh, don’t say that so loudly.
MOLLY: (Whispering loudly) Where’s your gun!?
ETHAN: Don’t whisper it either, you’re bad at whispering. Let’s walk over to the side of the stage.
MOLLY: Okay, I’m behind you, baby.
(Ethan sighs nervously and the two of them walk over to the side of the stage and sit down in folding chairs, watching Smith speak from the side)
LIEUTENANT GOVERNOR SMITH: Vermont’s number on target in the 1980s is jobs! We have to be straight shooters for jobs! That’s the bullseye. Governor Kunin and I want to assassinate the despair of unemployment in Vermont!
LIEUTENANT GOVERNOR SMITH: From the grassy knolls of Montpelier to the Ford’s Theatres of Middlebury, we must reload the clip of justice and send a bullet into the head of inequality! Telescopic lens!
MOLLY: Are you gonna do it?
ETHAN: You know what, Molly…NO-
ETHAN: YOU ARE-Wait, what?
MOLLY: I said good.
ETHAN: Oh. Wait, after I said no or before?
MOLLY: After, technically, but Ethan, I was beginning to worry.
ETHAN: Yeah, I said I was going to kill the Lieutenant Governor of Vermont and you said “sure”! Why?!
MOLLY: To turn me on?
ETHAN: That shouldn’t turn you on! You know how fucked up your fetish is?
MOLLY: Ethan, it’s like the bad boy complex, just, more like, REALLY bad boy complex. It’s like role playing, can’t we role play where your Lee Harvey Oswald and I’m Jackie Kennedy?
MOLLY: What? Is that too weird?
ETHAN: No, I’m just…I’m just ashamed about how hard I am right now.
(Cut to Kimberly standing on a shelf in the library as the rest watch from below)
MOLLY: Kimberly, what are you doing?
KIMBERLY: Let’s just climb! Life is about having fun, right? Then let’s not insult it by sitting on our asses!
RODNEY: That’s really dumb, just smoke pot.
KIMBERLY: Stewart, you’re preppy, join me up here!
STEWART: I don’t know, Father Moynihan is providing me some great company.
(Father Moynihan takes a hit off the joint)
FATHER MOYNIHAN: He’s a nice young, supple young, young man.
(Father Moynihan starts necking Stewart)
KIMBERLY: Wow. Rob, don’t look at them.
(Cut to Rob reading “Children of the Queer Lagoon”)
ROB: Don’t worry; there is plenty of information about homos in this here book.
KIMBERLY: I’m glad. Does anyone want to join me up here?
JACK: Kimberly, get down from there, I can see your cooch from down here.
KIMBERLY: I’m wearing jeans!
EMERSON: Yeah, acid wash jeans! The 1980s called, they want their jeans back!
(Emerson and Jack laugh)
KIMBERLY: It IS the 1980s! You know what, The Breakfast Club was wrong; all of you are no deeper than your respective stereotypes. The gay prep, the gay priest, the asshole jock, the superficial frenemy pretty girl and the grumpy, mopey drug addict goth kid.
KIMBERLY: Yeah! How are you a real friend? You compulsively lie; you make fun of me, that’s not what friends do!
EMERSON: Look at this bitch! She’s all sad because I made a joke about her and I told a few fibs.
KIMBERLY: Oh my God. (Kimberly sits on the top of the shelf) How many hours do we have left?
(Father Moynihan stops necking Stewart and looks at his watch)
FATHER MOYNIHAN: Um…eight hours and thirty minutes.
KIMBERLY: Jesus Christ.
FATHER MOYNIHAN: Fuck, he exists.
(Father Moynihan starts praying and repeatedly makes a cross in the air in front of his face and chest numerous times)
KIMBERLY: …You doing the cross thing doesn’t make your sin any less egregious.
(The teacher walks in)
TEACHER: HEY! What the hell’s going on here?!
(They all hide and put out the joint and pot and come out from behind the bookshelf)
JACK: Nothing, sir. Reading books.
TEACHER: I heard you guys talking! You know what? I assign you guys an essay! YEAH! Suck on that!
FATHER MOYNIHAN: I could suck on that. (They all look at him) As in, I’m up for the challenge.
TEACHER: DO IT!
(The teacher storms out. Cut to Brian in a hospital bed. He has numerous stitches all over his body. Spencer is sitting beside his hospital bed. A doctor is looking at him)
DOCTOR: Mr. Sarandon, you sustained serious injuries.
DOCTOR: You crashed through a fish tank.
BRIAN: No, no, no…I was partying! I was having a great time; I was on top of the world.
DOCTOR: Yeah, well shortly after that you were on top of a bunch of rare South American endangered species, some of which are now extinct due to this incident.
BRIAN: Jesus…how did this happen?
SPENCER: You felt invincible, Brian. It happens. But something so euphorically good can’t last forever.
DOCTOR: That is so true. Anyway, we’ll get you fixed up. I’ll be right back.
(The doctor leaves as the camera pans up to a news anchor)
NEWS ANCHOR: The Stock Market closed yesterday at a high of 1,304.88, buoyed by increasing confidence in the dizzying boom we seem to be experiencing.
(Cut to Monday, October 19, 1987, over two years later. A 26-year old Brian Sarandon and a 54-year old Spencer Sarandon on Wall Street, watching a major crash occur as bells ring and people panic)
SPENCER: GODDAMNIT! WHY NOW?! MOTHERFUCKER!
BRIAN: THIS IS BAD, DAD!
SPENCER: LET’S GET OUR MONEY OUT OF THERE!
SPENCER: BECAUSE THEY’RE FUCKING POISONING IT, I DON’T KNOW, IT’S THE FIRST THING I FEEL LIKE DOING!
BRIAN: WHAT’S THE SECOND THING?
(Cut to Spencer holding a bottle of Jack and standing on top of a nondescript building in New York City. He is clearly very drunk and has loosened his tie)
SPENCER: (Slurred) This is how the world will end…not with a boom, but with a crash.
(Spencer leaps off the building. Cut to a piece of paper on the desk in the library reading “DETENTION ESSAY, MAY 15, 1985” the rest of it is a bunch of girly penmanship, some pictures of skulls, some drawings of dicks and vaginas, latin and some actual decipherable text. It is signed, “The People Who Literally Have Nothing in Common Club”. Cut to black)
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