The Donahues Episode 81

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
Ryan drives on the wrong side of the road and has to do community service at a “mother-son” dance, a fugitive is loose in Hansbay, making people paranoid and Ethan becomes overwhelmed dealing with the business of the city while former Mayor Sarandon attempts to undermine him

Submitted: March 24, 2013

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Submitted: March 24, 2013









“When the rain falls hard, I see, I see, not too far before my eyes, further behind me. Everyone is talking; I have disappeared as the elevator doors slide shut, silently, unobtrusively, and without justifiable warning, above the sound of the percussion of the spattering deluge as tap dancers upon a tin roof, or before me I witness through the pouring rain appearing as some corrugated transparency”

  • Claudia Krizay


(We start with Ryan sitting in front of a teen jury in a legal board room. He is wearing an enclosed hoodie and skinny jeans and Kimberly is sitting right next to him. The teen jury is headed up by Ellen Alexander and consists of teens, none of which are recognizable)


ELLEN: So Mr. Donahue, you have plead guilty to the charge of-


RYAN: A moving violation.


ELLEN: Driving on the wrong side of the road, specifically.


RYAN: We don’t have to go into specifics.


ELLEN: Yes we do.


TEEN: How did you manage to do that?


RYAN: I was turning out of a bank and I just forgot to cross to the other lane, I don’t know!


TEEN 2: What were you on?


RYAN: Let’s just say I had a bad cough.


ELLEN: Don’t confess anything; there are no drug-related charges against you.


RYAN: Is cough syrup illegal?


ELLEN: How am I supposed to know? I’m just a volunteer.


KIMBERLY: Goddamnit Ryan, that’s really bad for you, I’m locking the liquor cabinet and taking away your money privileges.


RYAN: Okay then.


TEEN 3: So when you realized you were on the wrong side of the road, what happened?


RYAN: I sat there, crying as people honked. The light turned green and the guy next to me was so nice he let me go. But then I was pulled over by some asshole cop.


TEEN: He was doing his job, how does that make him an asshole?


ELLEN: Let’s focus, kids. We are supposed to sentence him to a certain number of hours of community service and a certain amount of jury terms. The maximum in this city for this offense is sixty-


TEEN: Life in prison.


TEEN 4: I want him stuffed like a turkey!




TEEN 4: No, I mean, like after he’s dead, I want them to stuff him.


TEEN: Still though.


ELLEN: You can give him a minimum of forty hours and a maximum of sixty hours and three jury terms. Also, you guys could assign him to write an essay, a poem or draw a picture about how remorseful he is.


TEEN 2: I want sixty hours, an epic poem, a dissertation and a fucking painting of Sistine chapel ceiling proportions.


ELLEN: All in favor of sixty hours, a poem, an essay and a picture?




ELLEN: Alright.


RYAN: What the fuck?


ELLEN: HEY! Do you want me to hold you in contempt?


RYAN: I’m not in a court technically, can you do that?


ELLEN: I don’t know, I’m just a volunteer.


(Cut to Kimberly and Ryan sitting at the kitchen table)


KIMBERLY: Here(she hands Ryan a piece of paper) are some organizations that you can get community service hours with.


(Ryan looks at the paper)


RYAN: Slim pickings. A tent where I help some guy sell items for charity?




(Cut to Ryan sitting in a car with Irville Satch driving)


IRVILLE: It’s a very charitable event. People love buying all sorts of trinkets and my numerous CDs of love songs.


RYAN: Yeah…


IRVILLE: Yeah, I find a tent is a very effective way to sell things-wait a minute.


RYAN: What?


IRVILLE: I’m trying to remember if I left the flap unlocked.


RYAN: The flap to the tent? How do you lock a flap?


IRVILLE: Let’s go look. (They park and they both leave the car and walk over to a tent in a parking lot. The tent’s flap is indeed open and there is a lot of smoke coming out of it) OH THE HUMANITY!


RYAN: I think it was robbed.


IRVILLE: This is the WORST thing to happen on God’s green Earth!


RYAN: Why the smoke?


IRVILLE: I may have left my truck idling in there.


RYAN: Why did you have a truck in there to begin with?


(Cut to Ryan and Kimberly at the dinner table again the next day)


KIMBERLY: Okay, that didn’t work. What about that mother-son dance? That doesn’t sound too bad.


RYAN: I don’t know, the only kids that go to mother-son dances are the kind that still have night lights and lice.


KIMBERLY: You have a night light.


RYAN: I HAVE A CLOSET LIGHT! Urgh, sorry, overreaction. But yeah, I have a closet light.


KIMBERLY: Right, but this is probably the easiest thing on here, all you have to do is tear tickets, chaperone, do odd jobs, normal stuff.


RYAN: Who says I’m looking for ease necessarily? Maybe I want to serve my community.


KIMBERLY: Okay, in that case, meals on wheels needs a lot of help since the sequester cut off it’s funding-


RYAN: I’ll take the Mother-Son dance.


KIMBERLY: You JUST said you wanted to serve your community!




(Cut to Ethan in the Mayor’s office watching television news)


PATRICK WHITE: It was reported moments ago that the United States has begun conducting B-52 operations over South Korea in a show of support for the safety of South Korea in the face of North Korean bellicosity.


(The lights flicker in Ethan’s office, causing him to jump)


ETHAN: AH! Jesus. Why does that always happen when the news mentions North Korea?


PATRICK WHITE: In other news, an inmate has reportedly escaped from police custody in Hansbay. Apparently, they were transferring the inmate, whose name is Matt Boustany, from a state prison in Burlington to a state prison in Rutland. However, they decided to take him un-handcuffed into a knife shop and the assailant used a pair of glasses to stab one of the officers and escape their grips.


ETHAN: Wow, when did this happen?


PATRICK WHITE: Former Hansbay Mayor Brian Sarandon made this statement outside of his Hansbay mansion.


ETHAN: What the fuck?


(Cut to Brian in a sweater vest, blue collared shirt and khaki pants talking to reporters)


BRIAN: It is unacceptable that Vermont State Police would let a dangerous serial killer loose in OUR city. If I am elected Mayor in the special election in April, I will make sure you will NEVER have to live in fear of a serial killer sneaking into your house, living under your bed and pulling you off that bed when you let a foot dangle off the side.




PATRICK WHITE: For the record, Mr. Sarandon was wrong about Mr. Boustany being a serial killer; however, he is a rapist and should be considered armed and dangerous. Maybe he even has…nuclear weapons?


ETHAN: You’ve got to be fucking kidding me! EVAN!


(Evan walks in)


EVAN: Yes, sir?


(Ethan turns to Evan)


ETHAN: The media went to BRIAN to ask about the fugitive!


EVAN: Why?


ETHAN: I DON’T KNOW! There’s no way he’s winning the special election in April, not a chance.


EVAN: Well, what do you want to do?


ETHAN: Call a press conference about Boustany, the fugitive. I’ll toss down the gauntlet. What is a gauntlet?


EVAN: I think it’s a kind of glove.


ETHAN: Like, mittens? Mittens don’t sound very intimidating.


EVAN: I said glove, that doesn’t necessarily mean they’re mittens.


ETHAN: Let’s just get to the press conference.


(Cut to a press conference where Ethan is standing behind a podium with Evan behind him and the press in front of him outside city hall)


ETHAN: He is half-Hispanic but looks completely white. He has black, short hair and a gold earring which I’m sure he didn’t take off.  I am directing the Hansbay Police Department to begin a manhunt for this so-called “man” and bring him to justice, whether it be in chains or in blood. We will catch him by the lake, we will catch him with a snake, we will catch at a store, we will catch him in a whore, we will catch him near your home, we will catch ‘em all. Pokémon! Thank you. Any questions?


(Brian comes out of the crowd wearing a fedora that says “Press y’all”)


BRIAN: Iiiiii have a question!


ETHAN: Jesus Christ…


BRIAN: How come your Mayoral administration has outright and utterly FAILED to apprehend this dangerous individual?


ETHAN: Brian, you’re not a member of the press.




ETHAN: Do you know what that word means?


BRIAN: I have a follow-up question!


ETHAN: I didn’t answer your original question.


BRIAN: Why not? Are you scared?


ETHAN: No, your original question was amazingly biased and had an implied answer.


BRIAN: The implication being that YOU’RE a bad Mayor and you know it!




(Ethan’s security drags Brian away as he yells)




(Cut to Ethan in casual clothing, Jacob and Ryan sitting at the dinner table that night with a bunch of papers around them)


ETHAN: See? This is so much better than dealing with the stress of being a Mayor. Just sitting with my sons, filling out our March Madness brackets.


RYAN: I’m putting Syracuse in my Final Four.


ETHAN: Jacob, check his bracket.


(Jacob looks over)


JACOB: All he’s done is drawn a doodle of the Grim Reaper ringing out a cat of its blood.


RYAN: Whatever, I’m done with this! I have to go do community service anyway.


(Ryan gets up and leaves)


ETHAN: Who do you have in your elite eight, Jacob?


JACOB: The Hilltoppers, Duke and Syracuse.


ETHAN: That’s only three.


JACOB: The other five are the Cardinals.


ETHAN: Why the Hilltoppers by the way?


JACOB: That’s my wild card. It’s unlikely, but if it happens, I’m a fuckin’ genius. Last year, I had Morris Brown in my Final Four, and they haven’t been a team in ten years.


ETHAN: Aren’t you supposed to be knowledgeable about sports?


JACOB: I’m in golf.


ETHAN: True.


JACOB: By the way, are you worried about that fugitive guy?


ETHAN: Eh, not really. They’ll catch him. There’s no way he’s going to hurt anyone anyway, he doesn’t want to attract the attention of authorities.


JACOB: He might want a place to sleep, like a garage though.


ETHAN: Who wants to sleep in a garage?


JACOB: Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t realize this was a high-class fugitive. Perhaps a plane hangar would be more to his liking!


ETHAN: Just don’t worry about it.


JACOB: He’s a rapist with a hunger, who knows what manner of tumult he could inflict all up on the world? How are you not nervous? You saw a man die two days ago.


ETHAN: I don’t like to talk about it.


JACOB: Alright, Don Draper.


(A relatively loud crack is heard)






(Ethan runs to his room but Kimberly gets in his way)


KIMBERLY: What are you doing?


ETHAN: Kimberly, we heard a noise!


KIMBERLY: Wow, a noise, are you sure it wasn’t just the house settling?


ETHAN: My mom always told me the house was just “settling”, but I never believed her! What’s holding houses down so much that they have to make weird noises?!


KIMBERLY: I don’t know, gravity?


ETHAN: That’s fair.


(Jacob walks over)


JACOB: Dad, you’re letting her get us into a situation that will leave us unprepared for the rapist.


KIMBERLY: Rapists aren’t like Slenderman or the Rake, they don’t live in your closet and subsist on orphan bones, it’s just one guy! Chances are-


JACOB: Chances are he’ll go after THE MAYOR!



ETHAN: No, that makes sense, Kimmy! He’d go after me because I’m the head of the authority he hates!


KIMBERLY: Ethan, he’s trying to avoid being arrested for ESCAPING FROM CUSTODY!  The Mayor’s house is the last place he’d go!


ETHAN: That’s true.


JACOB: Don’t listen to her dad, the police station is the last place he’d go, if he wants to make a political statement, he’ll come kill you.


KIMBERLY: Stop putting ideas in his head!

JACOB: He’s not ten, Kimberly. But yeah, what if he’s an assassin?!


KIMBERLY: He’s NOT though! He’s a rapist!


JACOB: What if he comes to rape you or blow up our house or blow up my car or what if I walk out the door tomorrow morning and he just pops out of my bushes and just starts fuckin’ throwing KNIVES at me-


KIMBERLY: Oh my God, I’m done with this, be paranoid on your own.


(Kimberly walks into her bedroom)


JACOB: I guess it’s just the two of us.


(Ethan turns to Jacob)


ETHAN: I’d love to help Jacob, but your mother’s right. Don’t be a paranoid Peter. Goodnight.


(Ethan tussles Jacob’s hair for a good minute. Cut to Jacob lying awake in bed. He gets a text on his phone right next to his bed. He checks it, it’s from a random number and it says “You up, girl?”. Perplexed, he texts back “wrong number, bro.” And then the lights turn on to reveal a stereotypical Mexican guy in a sombrero and mustache and other stereotypical Mexican attire holding maracas and a shotgun next to Jacob’s light switch)




(He points the gun, Jacob screams. Cut to Jacob waking up in a cold sweat, breathing heavily)


JACOB: FUCK! Thank God that didn’t happen. OR DID IT?! (Jacob looks under his bed and grabs a shotgun from under there and cocks it) Thank God dad forgot to lock his gun safe that one night. Now I won’t let this gringo kill me. Wait, gringo means white. But they said he’s half-Hispanic, but looks white. Whatever, I’m prepared! (Jacob sits in his computer chair) Now we play the waiting game.


(Cut to Ryan walking up to a ball room at a fancy hotel. He’s wearing an enclosed hoodie and skinny jeans with VANS shoes. The sign outside the ball room says “2013 HANSBAY MATERNAL ASSOCIATION MOTHER-SUN DANCE”. He opens the door to see a room full of mothers dancing with kids to classical music. A middle-aged woman walks over to him)


WOMAN: Hi, you must be Ryan.


RYAN: Yeah, I’m Ryan.


WOMAN: Thank you so much for doing this, we really appreciate it.


RYAN: This was court-ordered, but you’re welcome.


WOMAN: We appreciate it.


RYAN: So, what do you need me to do? Pull up some wires? Hold a cup?


WOMAN: Um, well we have some people who are still without partners over there.


RYAN: …Sorry?


WOMAN: There are some mothers looking for sons over there.


(The woman points to a group of middle-aged and old women standing around in dresses)


RYAN: I’m not sure what you mean.


WOMAN: You’re supposed to dance with one of them.


RYAN: I’m not any of their sons!


WOMAN: None of these people have sons; you’re supposed to pretend to be their son for a night to make them feel better about being barren and alone.


RYAN: Jesus Christ, that’s what this is? The title “Mother-Son Dance” is so misleading!


WOMAN: Did you see the title of the organization?


RYAN: Yeah, it’s “Hansbay Maternal Association!”


WOMAN: I guess that is still a little misleading, the point is, we’re making these women very happy for a night, all those other young men are doing community service just like you. Pick a lady and bust a move.


RYAN: The median age of those women is like 58.


WOMAN: Sixty, actually.


RYAN: You calculated it?


WOMAN: Just pick a woman!

RYAN: I can’t believe I have to do this. The youngest one I guess.


WOMAN: That’s Shelly Abernathy, she’s 55, she’s the one in the green blouse.


RYAN: Great. (Ryan walks over to Shelly, who looks excited) Hey, I’m Ryan. I’m here to dance with you I guess.


SHELLY: Hello, son!


RYAN: I’m not your son.


SHELLY: You are little Bryce Abernathy!


RYAN: Could I at least not have the name Bryce? Kind of a gay name.


SHELLY: C’mere, Bryce.


RYAN: Okay…


(Ryan walks towards Shelly and Shelly embraces Ryan in a tight hug)


SHELLY: I’ll love you forever, okay?




SHELLY: We can go get that Jamba Juice together, okay kiddo?


RYAN: We weren’t just reunited or something-


SHELLY: Shhhh. Let’s dance.


RYAN: Fine.


(Shelly takes Ryan to the dance floor and Shelly starts dancing Victorian style with him)


SHELLY: You hear this Beethoven?


RYAN: I don’t know if this is Beethoven, actually.


SHELLY: I met my Ivan when this song was on.


RYAN: Don’t say “My Ivan” like that, it’s really depressing.


SHELLY: Go to your room!


RYAN: What?


SHELLY: You pity me, don’t you?


RYAN: No, I just…what happened to your Ivan?


SHELLY: He divorced me five years ago.


RYAN: Sorry to hear that.


SHELLY: Before the divorce was final he was impaled in a freak accident.


RYAN: Christ.


SHELLY: I still consider myself married to him.


RYAN: That’s admirable.


SHELLY: Yes, it is.


RYAN: Why’d you guys divorce?


SHELLY: Well, we couldn’t stand being away from each other. We wanted to get surgically joined at the waist. It turns out that procedure isn’t legal in Vermont, so he elected to get a divorce.


RYAN: Kind of an “all or nothing” guy, wasn’t he?


SHELLY: Yeah. What we used to do was close our eyes and dance separately for a while until gradually joining each other.


RYAN: Were you high?


SHELLY: Let’s try it.


(Shelly lets go of Ryan and closes her eyes and does a bunch of crazy dance moves. Ryan stands there for a second and just walks over to the refreshments table)


RYAN: I don’t like the fact that I’ve been more depressed than I am right now, because to a well-adjusted person, this would be the most depressing thing in the world.


(Ryan grabs a Mountain Dew and opens it as another teen walks over to the refreshments table)


TEEN: This is the most depressing thing in the world.


RYAN: Hello, well-adjusted person!


TEEN: What?


RYAN: Nothing. (Ryan walks back to Shelly, who is still dancing strangely)How long does this-


SHELLY: Shhh. Just let it happen.


(Cut to Ethan in his office, on the phone)


ETHAN: I just don’t get it; Rob Portman supports gay marriage because his son is gay? That’s like saying “I support drunk driving because my son is a drunk driver”. HA!


KIMBERLY: (On the phone) That’s ridiculous, nobody is “too gay” to drive. There is no blood-glitter content test.


ETHAN: We just ask them to say the alphabet without using an upwards inflection. (Evan, Chairman Sloane and Vice Chair Edelman walk into Ethan’s office) Jesus, I have to go. Love you. (He hangs up) Is there a party?


EVAN: No, but there is an emergency. Apparently, the AFL-CIO Tug Boat workers have learned to count to one on their index fingers again.


ETHAN: What? Like, they’re striking?


EVAN: You bet your fuck they’re striking!


ETHAN: Why?!


CHAIRMAN SLOANE: Apparently they remembered why they were mad in the first place!


ETHAN: Two weeks later?!


VICE CHAIR EDELMAN: Well sir, neither you nor Sarandon increased police security around the lake.


ETHAN: Oh yeah. So what, the hobos masturbating on the tug boats is still a problem?


EVAN: You thought it would just go away?


ETHAN: Sarandon told me it would just go away!


CHAIRMAN SLOANE: Well that’s why he’s drooling on himself over a barbecue-sauce stained March Madness Bracket rather than sitting where you are right now.


ETHAN: What are you talking about “drooling on a March Madness bracket”? He’s constantly trying to undermine me!


CHAIRMAN SLOANE: Not constantly.


(Irville Satch, Lindol Atkins Junior and former Mayor Sarandon walk in, all wearing blue collar attire with “AFL-CIO” emblems)


BRIAN: WE DEMAND MORE…Um…what is it again, Lindol?


LINDOL: Police surrounding the lake.




ETHAN: Brian, what are you doing?! You’re not a tug boat operator!


BRIAN: I am as of yesterday.


ETHAN: You were a news reporter yesterday.


BRIAN: And in between these two gigs, I was an airline pilot! Well, I was dressed as one. I couldn’t make it into the cockpit, but I’d like to see someone try, it’s fuckin’ hard.


ETHAN: Listen, the simple fact is there is NO money to increase police presence at Lake Champlain without taking them away from other vital places! I’m sorry!


IRVILLE SATCH: Then our resolve is Satch-ro-sinct!


ETHAN: Don’t.


IRVILLE: I am un-satch-asfied by the leadership here.


ETHAN: Irville, Lindol, wow, those are fuckin’ weird names, anyway, Irville, Lindol, don’t you see Brian is just using you to make a political point ahead of the special election in April?


IRVILLE: The day Irville Satch is not used is the day the dream of my uncle dies!


ETHAN: I don’t want to know what that means.


LINDOL: Just because Brian is pulling off a stunt, doesn’t mean our cause is no less great!


(Ethan puts his head in his hands and then gradually pulls it out)


ETHAN: I’ll see what I can do.


LINDOL: I’m satch-asfied. DAMNIT! Now I’m doing it.


IRVILLE: I’m satisfied for now, but it better be something good!


BRIAN: Good luck, kid.


(Lindol, Irville and Brian leave. Cut to Ethan in a boardroom meeting with Ethan, Conan, Sheriff Warren, Maria and Evan)


ETHAN: Alright, this is situation room stuff right h’uch. What do you guys have for me?


SHERIFF WARREN: Well Mr. Mayor, there’s a new epidemic of abuse among teens in Hansbay with a new trend called “getting hitched”, where teens snort wood chips to get high.


ETHAN: Wow, have you actually seen any cases of this?


SHERIFF WARREN: Well…not personally, but…it was on the news.


ETHAN: Listen, I have a real problem. The Tug Boat Operator’s Union is going on strike and they won’t relent unless we increase police presence at Lake Champlain forthrightly. But Conan the treas-barian has told me that we don’t have the cash to increase police presence there without compromising safety elsewhere.


CONAN: That’s correct.


ETHAN: Is there any way we could…set up a Skype conference where police are…teleconferencing with the…criminals at the lake? Maybe?


SHERIFF WARREN: No, we don’t have Skype.


EVAN: Also, that’s just a terrible plan, right?


ETHAN: I’m sorry Evan; you come up with an idea.


EVAN: Maybe just ignore the union! Why do we need them to not be on strike?


ETHAN: Immersion Tug was Mayor Sarandon’s biggest campaign donor last year!


EVAN: Yeah, Mayor Sarandon’s biggest donor.


ETHAN: But they could help me out in April.


EVAN: Not if there’s a strike.


ETHAN: Yeah! So what’s the other solution?


CONAN: Well…it’s risky. But we could use the nuclear option.


ETHAN: Nuking them?


CONAN: No. A tax hike to pay for increased police presence.


(Ethan takes a trash can from under the conference room table and underneath the table, he vomits into the trash can. He vomits three or four times before rising back to the chair, wiping his mouth off and throwing the rag into the trash can and sitting back down)


ETHAN: That’s a possibility.


EVAN: Really?!


ETHAN: Yeah! I’d rather have money from a huge donor than not raise taxes.


EVAN: You’ve always told me no government should ever raise taxes!


ETHAN: Yeah, but the more I govern, I kind of wonder how our Government didn’t raise taxes for twenty years and still managed not to be burned down.


CONAN: It’s going to face an uphill battle in the city council.


(Evan’s phone goes off. Evan checks it)


EVAN: You might be in luck, Mayor Donahue.




EVAN: We could tell them we either raise taxes or let Immersion Tug go under and allow either Brian Sarandon or this guy (He turns the phone to reveal a video of Irville Satch in a suit speaking on a stage with signs behind him reading “IRVILLE SATCH FOR MAYOR 2013”)to become Mayor of Hansbay, Vermont.


IRVILLE SATCH: Today I am announcing my candidacy for the Mayoral race of Hansbay, Vermont! (Sparse applause, cheering and some laughter) When I-when I-(people have stopped applauding, cheering and laughing at this point) When I-thank you, thank you very much. When I-thank you! When I speak to my fellow AFL-CIO members, I always ask them to sing. And when I say sing, I don’t actually mean sing, I mean, just to use their voice as a way of advancing the common good. Of course, I don’t actually ever clarify that so to them it seems like I’m just asking them to sing, and they’re a little weirded out by it. Thank you!


(Evan stops the video and puts his phone up)




(Cut to Jacob sitting in the backyard with a shotgun in hand. There are cans of Coke everywhere on the grass surrounding him)


JACOB: Come here, rapist, rapist, rapist. Wait, why do I want him to come? (Elmer Fudd impression) Shh! Quiet! It’s rapist season! Ugh.


(Jacob takes out his phone and texts Kirsten the message “Ugh. Im in my backyard with my shotgun because I keep thinking I hear the fugitive”. He puts away his phone. A minute later, Kirsten texts back “You’re paranoid as fuck, get some sleep. He probably fled town anyway.” Then, Jacob texts back “maybe your right, but im not taking the risk. I imagine this is what being in the army is like anyway, just standing post waitin for saddam Hussein to climb over a fence.” Then, a minute later, Kirsten texts back “lol that was ten years ago. Youll prolly be waiting for kim jong un to fall off a swing”, making Jacob laugh. Kirsten also texts “also, ur 22x more likely to be shot if you have a gun in your house”. This makes Jacob text back “not me, Kirsten”. Cut to Kirsten lying awake in her bed looking at her phone. She smiles and gets up, taps her fingers on her legs for a few seconds, then begins to write a text reading “im gonna come ov” but then she backspaces and then puts her phone in her sweat pants pocket. She throws on Toms and gets a jacket on. She then walks out of her room into a dark hallway. She quietly creeps along. She turns on the lights in the next room)


KIRSTEN: Where are my keys? Oh, I remember. (She walks over to the couch and sees a bag of chips. She takes the bag of chips and, while facially cringing, opens the bag of chips, causing a loud opening noise) Always so much louder at night. (She reaches into the bag and grabs her keys out of the bag) Perfect. Oh wait, I need a hair tie.


(She gets another bag of potato chips and starts to open it. Cut to Ryan sitting down at a table with Shelly)


SHELLY: I that you dressed up.


RYAN: I’m not really dressed up; it’s just a hoodie and jeans.


SHELLY: Ivan could never give me children.


RYAN: Okay.


SHELLY: I was so barren he could play Fallout 3 in me.


RYAN: Gross.


SHELLY: I still remember when we met in Paris in the moonlight and he grabbed my sides and pulled me close.


RYAN: …That’s actually pretty romantic.


SHELLY: And he said, “Shelly, I think we should get a divorce”.




SHELLY: That was March 19, 2008.


RYAN: Wow, five years to the day, did you schedule this dance?


SHELLY: Ryan, being my son for the night, tell me, what kind of son are you?


RYAN: Um…I don’t know if you’d want me as your son.


SHELLY: Well I already have you as my son, so what kind of son are you?


RYAN: Honestly, my parents ask me that question all the time, just in a less friendly tone of voice.


SHELLY: Don’t be coy, son.


RYAN: Um…I have issues. Depression, drug issues, anxiety. Things of that nature. I don’t do well in school. About a year ago I bought ecstasy from a teacher. I spend a lot of money on wrist bands because my others keep getting bloody. I bribed my way past tenth grade. According to my ex-girlfriend, I’m self-centered, manipulative and…selfish. Yeah, I think she said that twice.


SHELLY: Wow. Do you have any brothers or sisters?


RYAN: Yeah, my brother’s an insecure stoner and my sister’s was a pretty big slut at one point.


SHELLY: …I’m not sure if I want kids anymore.


RYAN: Yeah.


(An overweight bald man with a thin mustache in a tuxedo walks over with a microphone)


OVERWEIGHT BALD MAN: (Singing) It’s time for the RAAFFFFLLEEEEEEEE! (Cut to Ryan, Shelly, the overweight bald man and the woman who greeted Ryan earlier with a bunch of other lonely women and uncomfortable teenage boys) Welcome to the raffle.


RYAN: What’s a raffle?




WOMAN: A raffle is where everyone has tickets with numbers on them and we draw numbers from this (she picks up an urn) this urn! Sorry about that, it’s the only container we had. Anyway, after that we pull a number out of this urn, sorry, and we see who has that number and whoever has that number wins the prize with said number attached to it!


(She lifts a sheet off a table to reveal a plasma screen TV with a “nine” attached to it, a laptop with a “fifteen” attached, an iPad with a “57” attached and a piece of solid gold with a “190” attached to it. All of these items are on top of another plastic sheet on the table. Everybody cheers)


OVERWEIGHT BALD MAN: Relax, relax, those aren’t the prizes.


RYAN: Why do they have numbers attached to them?


OVERWEIGHT BALD MAN: I like to keep track of how many I have. Revealing, the first prize! (He lifts the other white sheet from the table, causing the television, the laptop, the iPad and the gold to fly off the table and land on the ground behind, causing people to scream. The white sheet reveals the plastic table all that stuff was on and the number “71” is attached to it) A table!


RYAN: Wow.


WOMAN: Does everyone have their tickets?!


(Each woman pulls out a ticket and cheers)


SHELLY: My number looks like my husband’s nose!


RYAN: You’re number’s 122.


SHELLY: Your point?


WOMAN: Okay anyway, Pete, do your magic.


PETE: Will do, Suzan. The rest of the prizes are…(He pulls a white sheet off another table to reveal a mini-model of the Eiffel Tower with a four attached to it, a broken keyboard with a “What” attached to it, a pair of bloody glasses with the number “12880” attached to it, a Nook with a “get a Kindle” attached to it, a puppy in a cage with a “78” attached to it and a sign reading “Win a free lunch with the Mayor and a friend of your choosing due to take place in late April or early May” with the number “122” attached) these!


(People cheer)


RYAN: Wow, you have 122. It’d be pretty cool if they drew it.


SHELLY: I know! I would love to meet the new Mayor.


RYAN: He’s my dad, actually.


SHELLY: Really?


RYAN: Yeah, my name’s Ryan Donahue.


SHELLY: Oh Bryce, you are a lucky kid.


RYAN: …Yeah.


PETE: I will now draw the first number. (Pete draws a piece of paper and looks at it) Argo! Heh. Um, anyway, it’s 122.




(Shelly hugs Ryan)


RYAN: Congratulations!


(Shelly lets go of Ryan)


SHELLY: Victor! Wait, who am I going to take with me as a friend? Bryce, would you want to go?


RYAN: Um…I think I have someone for you.


(Cut to Jacob pointing his shotgun at some bushes in the backyard. He kicks around a few of them, and a squirrel comes out of one of them, startling Jacob)


JACOB: JESUS! God, that could’ve been a furry little rapist. (Jacob’s ringtone, “Popped a molly, I’m sweatin’” by Trinidad James, plays. He picks up his phone) Hello?


RYAN: (On the phone) Hey Jacob, you know how you’re friends with a lonely old man?




RYAN: Well, I think I just found him a lonely old woman.


JACOB: Really? That’d be great, because most of the women in his AA look pretty aged for whatever reason.


RYAN: Take a wild guess. Anyway, at this stupid mother-son dance I’m doing, the woman I was assigned to, Shelly, just won lunch with dad and a friend of her choosing in a raffle. I think DePinto would be a great “friend” for her.


JACOB: That could work. I’ll talk to him about it. When’s the lunch?


RYAN: It’s not for like, a month. Her husband was impaled before their divorce was final five years ago, so that little incident appeared to have driven her to the amount of sanity bat feces might have.


JACOB: Perfect for a General CRAZY for war!


RYAN: Yeah.


(The sound of a gate opening in the background causes Jacob to hang up and contort his face in fear. He turns around and points the shotgun. He walks quietly toward the area where the fence gate is. As he creeps along quietly, he hears footsteps. Then, suddenly, his phone goes off with “Popped a Molly I’m Sweatin’”. So, he quickly pulls it out to use as a light and points the phone at Kirsten, who screams. The phone shows a picture of Ryan crying and his caller ID reads “Ryan Donahue”. Jacob screams too)


JACOB: WHO THE FUCK ARE-Wait. (He puts his shotgun down) Kirsten?!





KIRSTEN: WELL-Fair point. But come on, you’re being paranoid, why would the rapist come to your house?


JACOB: Why wouldn’t he?!


KIRSTEN: Your dad’s the Mayor!


JACOB: Buy my dad’s not the judge, jury and executioner!


KIRSTEN: Yeah, that’s President Obama!


JACOB: Just-ugh, I…what are you doing here?


KIRSTEN: I wanted to surprise you.


JACOB: Mission accomplished. But you could’ve been killed!


KIRSTEN: I could say the same thing about your army ambitions!


JACOB: True. I feel like this is going to become a thing.


(A few seconds pass and Kirsten and Jacob start arguing over each other really loudly. Cut to Ethan testifying before the city council with Evan and Conan at his sides)


CHAIRMAN SLOANE: So you’re saying Mr. Mayor that raising sales taxes from six percent to seven percent would cover the additional cost of beefing up police activity around Lake Champlain?


ETHAN: That’s correct.


CITY COUNCILMAN JIM HESSINGS: Excuse me Mr. Mayor, but I don’t remember a Republican Mayor of Hansbay proposing a tax increase since I first took office during the Spanish Influenza epidemic of 1918.


ETHAN: There’s no way that’s true first of all, secondly-


COUNCILMAN HESSINGS: No, it is. No Republican Mayor of Hansbay-


ETHAN: I believe that councilman, I just don’t believe you took office in 1918, which would make you one of the oldest people on Earth.


COUNCILMAN HESSINGS: Maybe it was Bieber Fever of ‘08, anyway, why do you think you’re the first Republican Mayor of Hansbay to propose a tax increase since Mayor Steven Fink proposed a tax increase to fund research on prevention of the Spanish Flu, a proposal which the city council at the time bravely rejected, only to see Mayor Fink succumb to that horrible disease in 1919?


ETHAN: …Well, as much as I detest tax increases, this one is a necessary evil to pay for the police which the Tug Boat operator’s Union demands. We need the city’s Tug Boats running, Councilman.


VICE CHAIR EDELMAN: If I’m not mistaken Mayor Donahue, those aren’t the city’s tug boats. That is a private tug boat company which just happens to be a HUGE Hansbay Republican Party contributor, is it not?


ETHAN: It is, Madame Vice Chair. However-


(Brian and Emily, the pedantic, pretentious egotistical liberal chick from TDEP41, come in wearing pink shirts that say “PPELCOA”. Brian is holding up a sign reading “NO NEW TAXES!” and Emily is holding up a sign reading “LET GAY DRONES SERVE!”)





ETHAN: I’m sorry, is this what you want, Chairman Sloane?


(Irville Satch walks in wearing his suit)


IRVILLE: Let us end the tyranny of grocery cart wheels going the wrong way! Don’t you hate that by the way? I cover that for about an hour in the Irville Satch Experience.


ETHAN: Is it? Because I want Immersion Tug to pull through.






EMILY: I thought this was a protest for gay drone rights!


BRIAN: Sorry sweetheart, you’ve been duped. SARANDON 2013!




(Chairman Sloane slams his gavel multiple times as the clamor continues and Ethan sits back and smiles. Cut to Ethan sitting in his office the next day watching the local news)


PATRICK WHITE: President Obama is in Israel today to assure Israelis that the United States will always have their back even in the face of rocket attacks, but also emphasized that Palestinians also deserved their own constantly bombed state. President Obama and Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu reportedly argued behind the scenes for hours about Israeli Settlements in the West Bank and disagreements over the dismissal of Palestine. According to our sources, the argument became ugly when Netanyahu accidentally called the President a “schvartzer”. Meanwhile back at home, the Hansbay City Council approved an increase in sales taxes from six to seven percent today to pay for the increased police presence around Lake Champlain that the striking tug boat operators have demanded. Mayor Ethan Donahue is expected to sign the measure into law and this will be the first sales tax increase in Hansbay in thirteen years.


ETHAN: Thank God. EVAN!


(Evan comes in)


EVAN: Yes sir?


ETHAN: Could you get me that measure?


EVAN: Yes sir.


(Evan leaves and comes back with the bill and sets it on his desk)


ETHAN: Thank you, Evan. Do you have a pen?


EVAN: I have a-(He takes out a pencil that has been broken in half) broken pencil.


(Ethan sighs)


ETHAN: Fine. (Evan hands Ethan the pencil and Ethan signs the measure) Next time though, I want men in suits behind me applauding, along with children!


EVAN: Yes, Mr. Mayor.


(Cut to Ethan shaking hands with Lindol Atkins Junior for a photo op at Lake Champlain while cameras flash and Irville Satch and other Tug Boat operators behind him applaud. Irville Satch is begrudgingly applauding without smiling. Cut to Ryan and Shelly sitting at a table together in the ball room. They both look tired)


SHELLY: Let me tell you something, Ryan.


RYAN: What?


SHELLY: I thank you for the friend you’re going to set me on up with.


RYAN: You’re welcome; I think you’ll like him.


SHELLY: But just a word of advice from a crazy old cook like me.


RYAN: You’re a cook?


SHELLY: Never miss an opportunity to go after the person you love. If you love someone, recognize it and pursue it. Don’t lie in wait like I did.


RYAN: You got married to Ivan, right?


SHELLY: If I had asked him out six years before I did, then he wouldn’t have been impaled until 2014.


RYAN: I’m not sure that’s how it works, but I’ll keep that in mind.


SHELLY: Please do.


(Ryan gets two texts at once. Ryan checks his phone to see he got a text from Brennan and Michelle. Brennan’s text reads “I miss you, hows community service” and Michelle’s text reads “Is that ASL project due tomorrow?”. This causes Ryan to put down his phone and look at the ceiling. Cut to Jacob and Kirsten arguing in the backyard)


KIRSTEN: Here we have this behemoth always requiring constant stimulation and where the fuck does that leave me once you go off into the army?!


JACOB: Kirsten, I’m not GOING into the army until 2017! Meanwhile YOU are going to a college in Canada! So fine, become a goddamn Mounty for all I care.


KIRSTEN: You DO care! With me in Canada, who’s gonna blow you when you’re bored, you’re like a goddamn balloon, you just deflate and I have to blow you back up!


JACOB: Is this still about the fucking theatre banquet?


KIRSTEN: YES! You just act so, philistine in regards to intellectual things or my interests, or even fun things like improv, all you want is weed and my mouth!




KIRSTEN: It means-


(Ethan opens the door to the backyard in his pajamas)


ETHAN: The hell is going on out here?!




JACOB: Hey dad.


ETHAN: Jesus, what is Kirsten doing here? What time is it?


KIRSTEN: Sir, I am SO SO sorry, I’ll go right now.


ETHAN: Kirsten, you’re fine, what the hell are you doing up so late, Jacob?


JACOB: The fugitive, dad. He’s out there somewhere.


ETHAN: Okay, you know what? I’m the Mayor, I can get rid of the fugitive. (Ethan takes out his cell phone and holds it up to his ear) This is Mayor Donahue, kill the fugitive. Bye. (He puts the cell phone back in his pants) See? He’s dead.


(Cut to Sheriff Warren on the phone near Lake Champlain. The fugitive is in the background holding a gun, pointing it at copious police officers surrounding him)


SHERIFF WARREN: I totally thought you pocket dialed me, but okay, he’s a goner.


(Sheriff Warren shoots the fugitive. Cut back to Ethan, Jacob and Kirsten)


JACOB: Now that I think about it, this is kind of embarrassingly paranoid.


KIRSTEN: Thank you!


ETHAN: You’re welcome. Now go home, Kirsten.


KIRSTEN: Yes sir.


(Kirsten kisses Jacob on the cheek and leaves their backyard)


ETHAN: Jacob, give me that firearm.


JACOB: Yes sir.


(Jacob walks over to Ethan and hands him the shotgun)


ETHAN: Thank you. Now kiddo listen kiddo, here’s something about women that you should know. Women demand you to not ruin their strange idea of “fun” with bashfulness or the retainment of your dignity. So even if you hate it, do the improv, support the theatre, all those things. I have to entertain Kimberly’s racquetball business, right? And racquetball causes more blindness than mercury.


JACOB: How did you know about Kirsten and I’s problems?


ETHAN: A father knows these things.


 (Ethan smiles)


JACOB: …There’s no way you could’ve-


ETHAN: I was listening to your argument.




(Cut to black)



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