“THE NINETIES THIS TIME”
“And yet for too long politicians have told the most of us that are doing all right that what's really wrong with America is the rest of us. Them. Them, the minorities. Them, the liberals. Them, the poor. Them, the homeless…them, the gays…them and them and them. But this is America. There is no them; there's only us. One nation, under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice, for all”
-President William Jefferson Clinton
(We start with 29-year old Ethan Donahue sitting at a Macintosh in June 1995. He is hunting and pecking away on the keyboard. A 27-year old Kimberly walks over, nine months pregnant)
KIMBERLY: What are you doing?
ETHAN: I’m traveling along the information superhighway. It used to be I could only get information out of a vast library of tomes, but now all the world’s most pertinent information is at my fingertips.
KIMBERLY: You’re looking at animated gifs of kittens breakdancing.
ETHAN: I had no idea kittens could breakdance! The internet will create a better world for that little child (Ethan pokes Kimberly’s stomach) in your belly.
KIMBERLY: Go to cumwagons.com.
ETHAN: What is that, like a website where kittens come in on wagons or something?
KIMBERLY: Just go there.
(Ethan hunts and pecks that address into the old address bar. It goes to a softcore porn site)
ETHAN: Oh my God, I do not want my children growing up with this readily available!
KIMBERLY: Yeah. Now do you think the internet’s great?
ETHAN: No! I do not want Jacob or Madeline or Anthony to go blind before their third birthdays!
KIMBERLY: We are NOT naming him Anthony.
ETHAN: Why not?!
KIMBERLY: It sounds too much like the name of an asshole. Anthony, uggh!
ETHAN: We’ll talk about this later. For now, I have to print some things for Councilman Sarandon.
KIMBERLY: So is he considering a run in ’96?
ETHAN: We’re going to set up a focus group of Vermont voters from ALL different demographics. We have whites…
KIMBERLY: …You have whites,
ETHAN: That’s it.
KIMBERLY: Well, it is Vermont.
KIMBERLY: But the current Mayor is black.
ETHAN: Yeah, well that was white guilt. That’s why Jesse Jackson will be the first black President someday.
KIMBERLY: What would be your strategy to unseat Mayor Chapman?
ETHAN: Well, the FBI unseated the Mayor of D.C., Marion Barry when they caught him on tape smoking crack with a prostitute. I mean, why do you think the CIA invented crack? To NOT unseat black elected officials?
KIMBERLY: Marion Barry is the Mayor of D.C. again, though.
ETHAN: Well, maybe Sarandon should take up crack then. (Kimberly laughs. Ethan then gets down on his knees and kisses her stomach) I can’t wait for this little guy.
KIMBERLY: I know. This is our last one, right? I’ve spent most of the last two and a half years never more than eighteen feet from a bathroom.
ETHAN: As long as we have six little feet running around this house, I’ll be fine. (Ethan stands up) Make sure Jacob and Maddie don’t get into too much trouble, call me if there’s any problems, okay?
ETHAN: I love you.
KIMBERLY: I love you too.
(Ethan kisses Kimberly on the lips, grabs his coat, which is double-breasted, and walks out the door. Cut to Kimberly sitting on the couch with a one-year old Jacob and a one and a half year old Madeline at her sides. Jacob is moving a train back and forth while Madeline is making Barbies talk to each other. Kimberly is watching the news. Cut to a younger Patrick White sitting at a desk on the mid-90s black box television Kimberly has. He is looking down, not realizing he’s on air)
PATRICK WHITE: …Fuckin’ shit, here we go, (looks up) hi! I’m Patrick White, this is my first day, I’m a little nervous, so bear with me. Ahem. Almost two months after the tragic bombing in Oklahoma City that took the lives of 168 people, Americans are still shocked at the scope of the damage especially after the remains of the Alfred P. Murrah federal building were imploded two weeks ago. But Americans are comforted by the fact that when it comes to horrible acts of terrorism, it cannot possibly get any worse than this. Moving on-
(Cut to Kimberly watching. Madeline is still making her Barbies talk)
MADELINE: (Does not pronounce her Rs) “Hi Aisling! Let’s vomit for our husbands!”
KIMBERLY: Maddie, why would they want to do that?
MADELINE: You do!
JACOB: Mom make food!
MADELINE: Shut up!
(Jacob and Madeline try to grab at each other)
KIMBERLY: HEY! (Kimberly holds them apart) You two stop it RIGHT now! Okay? Maddie, why doesn’t your Barbie get a job?
MADELINE: Has job!
KIMBERLY: Fine, what’s her job?
MADELINE: Pee comes out butt!
KIMBERLY: That’s not a job, all women do that.
MADELINE: When I pee, I get check!
KIMBERLY: That’s because your dad knows you can’t cash it.
KIMBERLY: I’ll get you milk in a second Jacob, but listen Maddie, I’m not your father’s-
KIMBERLY: In a second! I’m my own woman- (Jacob starts crying) Jesus, fine! I’m sorry! I’ll get you milk! (Kimberly carries Jacob into the kitchen and pulls formula one out of the fridge and feeds it to Jacob. As she’s doing that, she carries Jacob back to the living room and sees Madeline’s gone) Goddamnit, MADELINE! WHERE ARE YOU?! (Kimberly goes into her bedroom) MADDIE! MADDIE COME HERE! (Kimberly walks into the bathroom to see Madeline dancing to the Macarena over the radio, making Kimberly laugh) That’s adorable, Maddie. Only if I had a camera on me so I could record this. And an internet site to post the video on. Wow, I should write this idea down.
(Cut to a 33-year old Brian Sarandon sitting on the city council. Ethan is sitting behind him and the Chairman, a much younger Jim Hessings, is speaking)
CHAIRMAN HESSINGS: There’s a park near Steno Street that has a light that’s on too late at night. According to my niece and grand uncle, they are going blind from staring at it every, single, night. All in favor of requiring we turn it off after 6pm?
BRIAN: Chairman Hessings, with all due respect, I don’t see the merit in that plan at all. 6pm is before it becomes dark outside, the light is supposed to serve a purpose, is it not?
ETHAN: Wow, I really like that fresh young man’s ideas, that kid has a future.
(Councilman Sarandon stands up)
BRIAN: I WILL NOT REST UNTIL WE HAVE FIFTEEN, THAT’S FIFTEEN WITH AN F, FIFTEEN PARK LIGHTS AT THAT PARK!
CHAIRMAN HESSINGS: That would, blind people!
ETHAN: That’s bold as fuck. I’d fight for this man!
CHAIRMAN HESSINGS: We all know you work for him, Ethan.
ETHAN: I don’t know what you’re talking about, Chairman Hessings. I am John Q. Pube lice.
BRIAN: I WILL ELIMINATE THE PLAGUE OF PUBE LICE!
(Ethan stands up and starts applauding. Cut to Ethan and Mayor Sarandon sitting in a dark room with a one-way mirror showing a brightly lit room with a white woman, a white man and a white teenager sitting down. They’re all in 90s clothes such as Levi’s Jeans, sweaters and the young kid is wearing a backwards baseball cap)
BRIAN: I love these one-way mirrors. Just know that if you scream in pleasure behind the mirror, it gives it away.
ETHAN: God, I don’t want to know what you do behind one-way mirrors. Anyway, if these people respond positively, would you consider a run?
BRIAN: I would seriously consider a run, yes. I have the name recognition, my great grandfather was Mayor from the 1910s to the 1920s.
ETHAN: Are you sure anybody but Chairman Hessings remembers your grandfather’s tenure considering it was eighty years ago and he ended up in jail anyway?
BRIAN: Maybe it’s best that I don’t have the name recognition. My greatest asset however, is my insatiable charm.
(Brian smiles widely)
ETHAN: …The longer you smile, the less inclined I am to believe you.
(Brian stops smiling)
ETHAN: Brian, let’s just see what the people think.
(They turn to the one-way mirror. A man in a suit comes in to the room on the other side)
MAN IN SUIT: Hi, I’m Lane. You must be a group of carefully selected walking demographics whose opinions we can use to cravenly pander to your voting group.
BRIAN: Wow, that defeats the point.
WOMAN: Yes, I believe we are.
LANE: Okay, well, I have some questions for you.
HARRIS: Who cares?
(The kid sneers)
LANE: You came here voluntarily.
HARRIS: I don’t need this!
(He takes out his Walkman and starts listening to it using headphones)
LANE: Well, anyway, I’ll ask you some questions. If the Presidential election were tomorrow, would you vote for President Clinton or Texas Senator Phil Gramm?
MAN: If the election were held tomorrow, I would call foul because according to the law, election day is supposed to be the first Tuesday after the first Monday in November of the year before the current President’s term is set to expire, not the first Monday of June in the year before the year before the President’s term is set to expire-
LANE: Wow, you’re taking this literally, I’m saying who do you support given those two candidates?
WOMAN: I would support Clinton.
JERRY: Gramm, all the way.
(The youngster takes off his headphones)
HARRIS: What’s up?
LANE: Clinton or Gramm in ’96?
HARRIS: Clinton, man, Clinton’s dope, he’s more gangster than Tupac.
LANE: With Whitewater and Vince Foster, you might be right. Anyway, what do the three of you see as the biggest problem facing the country right now?
JERRY: These…gay people. You know what I’m talking about?
LANE: Yes, I know what gay people are.
WOMAN: They’re everywhere, sticking their butts out at us. It scares me!
LANE: Interesting, what do you think we should do about gay people?
JERRY: Not let them marry, certainly.
SIDNEY: Let’s make them keep their butts away from us!
LANE: Where do you keep being flashed by gay butts?
SIDNEY: At the gym, I just, see all these gay butts, just…being gay butts. How do I resist their siren song?
LANE: I’m not sure what you mean.
HARRIS: They mean gay people gross them out and I don’t personally see what the big deal is.
(The man and the woman gasp)
SIDNEY: What’s the big deal? They’re ruining the family unit!
JERRY: Children are supposed to be raised by a man, a woman and a TV! That’s in the bible!
SIDNEY: It’s Adam, Eve and Jay Leno, not Adam, Steve and Sandra Bernhard.
HARRIS: I think the biggest problem is there’s not enough places for me to sullenly sulk. (Shrugs his shoulders) What’s a kid supposed to do?
LANE: Let’s move on. What are the biggest issues facing the state of Vermont and the city of Hansbay in your opinions?
JERRY: I think Mayor Chapman hasn’t done enough to take care of the homeless.
LANE: Interesting. And you, Ms. Sheer?
MS. SHEER: I think there’s too much crime. I remember that during the Rodney King riots three years ago, I saw a kid knock over a trash can near Hansbay High, pick it up and then knock it over again. My soul jumped out of my throat, slapped me in the face, jumped back in and made my stomach roll over in its grave.
LANE: Less petty crime, I see.
HARRIS: My biggest issue is Third Eye Blind has never done a show here.
(Cut to a 17-year old Robert Altmire with longer hair and no facial hair sitting in a classroom with other 1990s students at Winthrop High School in Winthrop, Massachusetts. The teacher is an attractive young woman at the chalkboard talking. The chalkboard indicates her name is “Miss Fields”)
MS. FIELDS: Hi there, kids. Final exams are this week, so study, study, study. I will be here before and after school- (Rob shakes his head) no I won’t be! You’ll have to study on your own.
STUDENT: Ms. Fields, I’m really struggling to understand some of the material-
MS. FIELDS: I want to help you, honestly, but you’re being a dick right now.
STUDENT: Excuse me?
MS. FIELDS: The bell rang, class dismissed.
STUDENT: The bell didn’t ring.
ROB: You heard her, asshole, the bell rang! (The bell rings) See?!
STUDENT: I was still right!
(Everybody gets up and students funnel out of class, as does Rob, but cut to a close-up of Rob's upper torso and head in the hallway)
ROB: Oh, I forgot my...pencil in there, I better go back in there and get it-(Zoom out to reveal no one's there listening to him) oh. No one's here to hear my golden lies. Fine. (Rob walks back into the class and closes the door) Well hello, Ms. Fields.
MS. FIELDS: Rob, cover the window in the door, we'll say it's a lockdown drill.
ROB: A sexy lockdown drill.
(Rob puts some black manila paper over the window of the door, then Ms. Fields runs to him and they start making out)
MS. FIELDS: I'll miss you.
(They keep making out)
ROB: Just because summer's coming doesn't mean this has to end.
(They keep making out)
MS. FIELDS: Rob, if they keep seeing me with you outside of class they'll become suspicious. Right now they think you're being tutored!
ROB: Well, I hope they appreciate how noisily you tutor.
MS. FIELDS: If I just keep screaming fractions then they'll remain completely in the dark. (Rob puts his hand up her dress) OHH! SEVEN OVER THREE! OH, EIGHT AND TEN THIRDS!
(Cut to Rob, an overweight kid and a douchey looking kid at a lunch table)
DOUCHEY KID: I swear, my girlfriend was like a wolf last night.
OVERWEIGHT KID: Hairy?
ROB: Really hairy?
DOUCHEY KID: What? No, she howled, God, that's not what I meant at all.
OVERWEIGHT KID: Clayton, we know your girlfriend has a prickly pear of a puss.
ROB: You must know we know that.
(They laugh while Clayton half smiles)
CLAYTON: Whatever, Rob, Ken, you guys are just jealous you don't have girlfriends.
KEN: Right for the jugular.
ROB: Yeah, well I...
ROB: Well, I um...
KEN: Jesus, tell us before we lose interest.
ROB: I can't really tell you, though.
CLAYTON: Alright whatever, anyway, I saw the movie Casper the other day-
ROB: Okay, fine, I’ll tell you! Look, I'm sorting of having a relationship...(whispering) with a teacher.
(Everybody’s silent for a second, but then everybody but Rob starts cracking up)
CLAYTON: YOU and a TEACHER?!
(They continue laughing)
KEN: WAS IT MISS FLANNIGAN THE TEACHER WITH TWO NECKS?!
CLAYTON: OR MISTER FLANNIGAN THE TEACHER WITH TWO NECKS?!
ROB: Sorry, there are TWO Flannigans with abnormal necks?!
(Their laughter subsides)
KEN: Yeah, they’re not related either, but either way, you’re gay!
ROB: Guys, I really am, though.
CLAYTON: What teacher would touch you?
ROB: I shouldn’t say.
KEN: You’re going to tell us, we didn’t even want to know your secret and you told us.
ROB: It’s Miss Fields.
CLAYTON: I’ll believe it when MTV says it’s so.
KEN: She’s the hottest teacher on campus. She looks like she should be indiscriminately pulling books off a shelf while amorously staring at someone.
ROB: Yeah, well that person’s ME!
CLAYTON: Prove it.
ROB: Um, how?
KEN: I want a sworn testimony, in writing, from both parties.
ROB: It’s illegal, she’d never admit to it.
CLAYTON: How old is she?
KEN: You must have bodily evidence.
ROB: We don’t practice masochism, listen, just smell my finger.
(Rob lifts up is finger and Ken and Clayton smell it)
CLAYTON: Holy shit, it smells like pencil shavings.
(Rob puts his hand down)
ROB: Well, it doubles as a pencil sharpener. My dick’s a lethal weapon now.
(They all laugh)
CLAYTON: Wow. You’re actually fucking Ms. Fields?
KEN: Kudos to you, sir!
ROB: Thank you, thank you very much.
CLAYTON: How did it happen?
ROB: Well, it was early May. We had been talking.
(Flashback to early May 1995. Rob is talking to Ms. Fields after class)
MS. FIELDS: Why did you get a double zero on your mini-quiz? It wasn’t even a big boy quiz!
ROB: Sorry, I hadn’t studied last night, I was too busy playing trampoline tennis with…Bon Jovi.
MS. FIELDS: You’re lying…did you really though?
ROB: Yeah, I have eyewitness accounts from several sources.
MS. FIELDS: Who?
ROB: Shaggy, Coolio and Kurt Cobain’s ghost.
MS. FIELDS: You’re so connected…
ROB: Yes, I am. Not many people say that to me, but I am.
MS. FIELDS: God. I got into this teaching thing because I wanted to help people, but…it wasn’t really that. I just thought the principal was a hot, hot, hottie with a hot Boston body, but he quit a week after I was hired so he could “spend more time with his hot family”. Now I’m just a teacher.
ROB: You’re not just a teacher.
MS. FIELDS: Yeah, well I’m also a garbage collector on weekends.
MS. FIELDS: It pays better.
ROB: Katherine, you don’t deserve a rough and tumble profession like that.
MS. FIELDS: Did you just call me Katherine?
(Ms. Fields stares for a second, walks over to her class door closes it, locks it, covers the window and walks over to Rob and starts making out with him. They then get on the desk and begin removing clothing. Cut to Rob, Ken and Clayton)
ROB: I guess after months of sexual tension, it just climaxed into that beautiful moment.
CLAYTON: Sexual tension?
ROB: Yeah, we argued about sex.
(Cut to Rob at his desk surrounded by visibly uncomfortable and confused teens, arguing with Ms. Fields, who is standing at the chalk board)
MS. FIELDS: Oral sex DOES count as sex!
ROB: It’s called sex, but it doesn’t take away your virginity, ask President Clinton and Gennifer Flowers!
(Cut to Kimberly asleep on the couch, holding her stomach. A radio is near her stomach, playing classical music. Jacob runs over and whacks the dial around and it changes to a different radio station)
RADIO DJ: This next song is off of Sunny Day Real Estate’s album “Diary”, it’s “In Circles”.
(The radio starts playing “In Circles” by Sunny Day Real Estate. Jacob runs over to his big block legos and starts playing with them. Then, after a little while, Kimberly wakes up)
KIMBERLY: What? Hey! What happened to the classical station, Jacob?
JACOB: No want it!
KIMBERLY: It doesn’t matter, the book tells me it’s good for Ryan. (Kimberly changes it back to the classical station) OW! OHHH! DAMNIT!
JACOB: What, mommy?
KIMBERLY: God, Ryan’s kicking really hard in there, AH! SON OF A-(Kimberly forcefully slams her fists against the couch and inadvertently changes the station back to Sunny Day Real Estate) Oh. It stopped. Well, good. Now I can relax. (Kimberly changes it back to the classical station, but she tenses up again) AH! OHH! IT HURTS! (She changes it back to Sunny Day Real Estate) Wow, it’s fine again. I guess I’ll keep it on whatever the hell kind of music this is. (Cut to Madeline in the computer room. The antiquated Macintoshes are on two desks. There is a mascara tray on the top one desk. Madeline sees it and wants it. She picks up a loose computer cord and uses it to knock off the mascara tray. She then sits down, uses the brush to put on an inordinate amount of Mascara on her face and in her mouth. She then begins coughing profusely. Cut to Kimberly painstakingly listening to Sunny Day Real Estate while Jacob plays with legos) Make it stop.
(Cut to Lane asking questions of the three people in the room)
JERRY: And that’s the 37th thing I’m afraid of.
LANE: I see.
(A black man walks in wearing a gray suit and a perm)
BLACK MAN: Hello, sorry I’m late.
(Cut to Ethan and Brian watching)
ETHAN: Wait, I thought we weren’t using minorities.
BRIAN: Well, Mayor Chapman is poised to get 100% of the negro vote, so it’s important we get that down to 99%.
ETHAN: Brian, nobody really says “negro” anymore.
BRIAN: Sorry, Afro-American.
ETHAN: That’s also not used anymore.
BRIAN: Just shut up and watch this.
(Cut to the focus group, the black guy is now sitting next to everyone else)
LANE: Alright, next question. We’ll start with Sidney. Sidney, do you think OJ Simpson is guilty?
LANE: Guilty of what?
LANE: Guilty of what, what has he been charged with?
LANE: Murder of who?
JERRY: Sidney, he was charged with killing Nicole Brown Simpson and Ronald Goldman, his ex-wife and her boyfriend.
HARRIS: Yeah, and that asshole definitely did it. He’s a total scrub.
LANE: Lee, you seem rather taciturn over there, what do you think about this?
LEE: Well, I think-
LANE: Taciturn means quiet-
LEE: I KNOW what taciturn means.
LANE: Okay, sorry. Go ahead.
LEE: Well, I don’t know if Simpson is guilty or not, but there have been some discrepancies in the laboratory that was conducting DNA testing. Plus, Mark Fuhrman is a racist who repeatedly used the word “nigger” in tapes that they haven’t admitted in court yet. I don’t think his testimony holds water.
JERRY: Listen Lee, if you’re saying I’m a racist, I would have to-
LEE: I’m not calling you a racist in any way shape or form.
JERRY: You sound like you’re calling me a racist. That’s all you people do, you accuse people of racism!
LEE: US people?
JERRY: I didn’t mean that, I meant black people.
LEE: Why is that better?
LANE: Okay, simmer down.
LEE: I’m simmered. Listen, I don’t like the way I’m being spoken to in here.
LANE: Jerry apologizes.
JERRY: I’m not apologizing, blacks always accuse people of racism when they have no argument!
LEE: I didn’t accuse you of racism!
(Cut to Ethan and Brian watching)
BRIAN: I think we need to reach out to African Americans.
ETHAN: But where are they in Hansbay?
BRIAN: The slums.
ETHAN: We have slums?
BRIAN: We have, slum.
ETHAN: Like, one particular street?
(Cut to Brian and Ethan driving in the bad part of Hansbay)
ETHAN: This area seems awfully seedy.
BRIAN: It’s also a gold mine for votes. Or a black gold mine.
ETHAN: Wow, do not ever speak on tape.
BRIAN: Don’t worry, no one would dare mug a city councilman and his Chief of Staff.
ETHAN: Why are we even doing this? Why would black people vote for anyone but Mayor Chapman?
BRIAN: There are 330 black people in Hansbay, 120 Native Americans, 480 Hispanics and 420 Asians. Seems like a lot, right?
ETHAN: No, it actually doesn’t.
BRIAN: Well guess what? It isn’t! However, together they are a powerful voting bloc, coming out to 1,350 people.
ETHAN: Yeah, in a city of 30,000, it’s insignificant.
BRIAN: Perhaps. But that man made a good point during the focus group session, black people love accusing others of racism. They relish it. Let’s prove we’re not racist by coming in physical contact with negroids.
ETHAN: Like I said-
BRIAN: Avoid tapes, I know. Let’s mingle! (They get out of the car to see a run-down street full of fallow buildings and blacks standing on street corners) Let’s speak to this young gentleman.
(Brian and Ethan walk over to a black man wearing 90s gangster clothing, specifically green shirt buttoned all the way up to the collar, a bandana and loose jeans) Hello, sir. My name is Brian Sarandon and- (The man takes out a gun and points it at them) AH!
GANGSTER: That’s a nice suit you got, homeslice.
BRIAN: Thank you, it’s a William Fioravanti suit.
ETHAN: Definitely not making this better.
GANGSTER: Fuck ‘at’s supposa mean?
GANGSTER: I SAID fuckasposamean?
ETHAN: I don’t know what you’re-
GANGSTER: You sayin’ I resent his rich ass fo’ bein’ able to afford expensive-ass shit when I’m livin’ in abject pove’ty?
ETHAN: No, not at all sir.
GANGSTER: THEN YO’ WRONG, BITCH! NOW GIVE ME YO’ MONEY! (Ethan and Brian quickly take out their wallets and hand him several hundred dollar bills, which he gladly takes) Thanks, man.
BRIAN: You forced us to give you-
GANGSTER: SAY YO’ FUCKIN’ WELCOME!
BRIAN: You’re welcome, you’re welcome!
GANGSTER: Thanks. (He puts his gun back in his pants) So what’s a couple a white boys doin’ ‘round here anyway?
BRIAN: For business.
GANGSTER: Business, huh? Well, I gossa business. Maybe yo’ square asses be interested.
ETHAN: We’re not, can we go?
GANGSTER: FUCK NO!
(He takes out his gun and points it at them)
BRIAN: WE’LL STAY!
ETHAN: WE’LL STAY! PROMISE!
(He puts his gun back in his pants)
GANGSTER: Great. Come with me. (He leads the two of them down the alleyway to the back, where numerous black people are playing cards on card tables, smoking weed and sorting drugs while blasting Tupac) Yo ass see, I had a scam fo' a funky-ass bidnizz two n' a half mothafuckin’ years ago durin’ tha Rodney King Riots, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. I tried ta set up a riot up in Hansbay afta dat bullshiznit verdict went down yo, but there wasn't nearly enough homies up in dis cracka-ass city ta set one up. Da Hansbay Rodney King Riots straight-up just became a misdemeanor charge fo' knockin’ over a single trash can. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Right back up in yo mothafuckin’ ass. So, I realized at dat point dat I also couldn't push drugs here ‘cause of tha low black population. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.
ETHAN: Nobody thinks you’re talking about chicken and gravy.
GANGSTER: Da problem was, dis thinkin’ was pretty racist. Black playas aren't tha only playas whose ass do drugs fo' reals. And then it hit mah dirty ass. Middle class white lil playas get bugged out like a mothafucka. Thus, they like ta do drugs ta take care of boredom. That’s where we come in. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch fo' realz.
ETHAN: It actually seems like you might be considering how much you’re mentioning it.
GANGSTER: All our asses gotta do is hook middle class suburban white lil playas up in Hansbay so they can jam they asses off. Our thugged-out asses have da sticky-icky-icky, cocaine, ecstasy, heroin n' mah mom’s homemade crack cocaine. Da special ingredient is love, n' rubbin’ alcohol. I push dis ta teens all over Hansbay. It ain’t nothin’ but makin’ me a profit.
BRIAN: Well, what a lucrative business you have here. We should leave you fine gentlemen to your business, we-
GANGSTER: Wait, (whiny composure) wait, hold on, man, just stay for a second.
ETHAN: You have a gun, why are you groveling?
GANGSTER: Oh yeah. (He pulls out the gun) STAY THE FUCK WHERE YOU AT!
BRIAN: Thanks, Ethan.
GANGSTER: Now YOU TWO gonna deal some goddamn ecstasy and crack for me or the FUCK what?
ETHAN: Mr. Gangster, I-
BRIAN: Ethan, we don’t have a choice. Yes, we’ll deal ecstasy and crack for you.
GANGSTER: GOOD! Hey kid. Catch.
(He throws the baggie of ecstasy to Ethan and the baggie of crack to Brian. Cut to Rob sitting in front of Ms. Field’s desk with nobody in the room but the two of them. Rob clears his throat)
ROB: Sorry, is there something you wanted to see me about?
MS. FIELDS: Are you fucking kidding me?
ROB: No, I wouldn’t say I’m particularly funny.
MS. FIELDS: Look at this.
(Ms. Fields takes out a doodle someone made of Ms. Fields and Rob 69ing. The caption says “Their only subject is MATH!”)
MS. FIELDS: Do these caricatures look like anyone you know or fucked?
ROB: They look like Prince Charles and Princess Diana.
MS. FIELDS: Don’t get cute.
ROB: I wouldn’t say I’m particularly cute either, listen, how do you know that’s us?
MS. FIELDS: It looks exactly like us!
ROB: We have noses though!
MS. FIELDS: They only reason you can’t see your nose is because it’s deep in my pussy!
ROB: Well, how do you know it was drawn by someone I know?
MS. FIELDS: Because there’s a very tasteful signature right
(She points to an actually very astute cursive signature reading “Clayton Wynn” )
ROB: That is actually really nice.
MS. FIELDS: Yeah. (She puts down the picture) But that’s not the point. I found this in the art room. Rob, have you told anybody about us?
ROB: Of course not, especially not Clayton.
MS. FIELDS: Then why does this picture exist?!
ROB: Maybe it’s just a joke.
MS. FIELDS: It seems like a Mexican of a coincidence.
(A Mexican landscaper strumming a viheula enters through the window)
LANDSCAPER: (Singing) Oh señorita Fields, usted es una brizna de hierba en una tormenta de amor, usted hace los ojos brillantes como los de una paloma, una paloma con una rara mutación que provoca ojos incandescentes, cuando los ojos de paloma generalmente son bastante oscuras-
(SUBTITLES: Oh Miss Fields, you are a blade of grass in a windstorm of love, you make my eyes bright like those of a dove, a dove with a rare mutation that causes incandescent eyes, when usually dove's eyes are quite dark-)
MS. FIELDS: Jovan, stop!
ROB: Who’s this guy?!
JOVAN: I’m just a friend.
ROB: A friend who comes by the window and sings Mexican love songs? Bullshit!
JOVAN: Why do you care, kid?
(Rob stands up)
ROB: BECAUSE MS. FIELDS AND I ARE LOVERS!
MS. FIELDS: That’s not-that’s an exaggeration.
JOVAN: I DON’T CARE IF IT’S AN EXAGGERATION!
ROB: Are you fucking this guy?!
JOVAN: We make LOVE. We don’t, even, fuck!
ROB: You son of a bitch.
(Ms. Fields stands up)
MS. FIELDS: GUYS! (Rob punches Jovan in the face, sending him into the desks) ROBERT!
(Jovan gets up and charges at Rob, but Rob kicks him in the stomach, sending him to the ground once again. Cut to Jacob crawling into the computer room to see Madeline passed out with mascara all over her mouth)
JACOB: OH NO! (Jacob hurriedly stumbles over to Kimberly and tugs on her dress) MOMMY!
KIMBERLY: What, honey?
JACOB: Maddie trouble!
JACOB: MADDIE TROUBLE!
(Kimberly gets up)
JACOB: Compuma woom!
KIMBERLY: Jesus! (Kimberly and Jacob hobble on over to the computer room to see Madeline passed out with Mascara all over he mouth) NO! (Kimberly flips Madeline around) MADDIE! (She pats her on the cheek) WAKE UP! WAKE UP, MADDIE! OH NO, WE HAVE TO GET TO THE HOSPITAL!
(Cut to Kimberly holding Jacob while talking to a doctor wearing those creepy glasses everyone seemed to wear in the 1990s)
DOCTOR: Your daughter’s alive, she just has to get her stomach pumped.
KIMBERLY: Oh my God, will she be okay?
DOCTOR: She’ll be fine.
KIMBERLY: What does a stomach pumping entail?
DOCTOR: Um, there’s a, stomach, obviously. And I think a pump is factored in at some point.
(Cut to Ethan, Brian and the black Mayor, Mayor Chapman, sitting in a conference)
BRIAN: And we simply drove off in our car. They had no idea we were city government officials.
MAYOR CHAPMAN: Well boys, I am quite appalled with that story. In my town, that should not be happening.
ETHAN: Absolutely agreed, Mr. Mayor. I mean, I have a twenty-two month old, a thirteen month old and another one on the way, I don’t want any of them to grow up in a town where they could gain easy access to drugs.
MAYOR CHAPMAN: Like, as infants?
ETHAN: No, I mean when they’re teenagers.
MAYOR CHAPMAN: Oh, of course. You didn’t grow up in 1980s Harlem.
MAYOR CHAPMAN: Well thank you very much for bringing this to my attention. If this had not been brought to my attention, I likely would not have been effected, but I do appreciate it.
BRIAN: You’re welcome.
MAYOR CHAPMAN: I will direct Sheriff Bartlett to snuff out this gang.
BRIAN: Good. By the way, we still have the crack if you’re-
ETHAN: WANTING to put it in an evidence locker.
MAYOR CHAPMAN: Turn it in to Sheriff Bartlett and I’m sure everything will be fine. Thanks, guys.
(Mayor Chapman shakes both of their hands and leaves)
BRIAN: Did he just leave us in his conference room?
ETHAN: I guess. So, do you still want to run for Mayor?
BRIAN: Ugh…not until the east side, west side dispute is resolved. Also the drug problem.
ETHAN: So basically you’ll run for Mayor once you know you won’t have to solve any problems while in office?
BRIAN: Yeah, what don’t you understand about that?
ETHAN: I guess I understand it, I just don’t know why you’re being so honest about it.
BRIAN: Plus, I’m only 33, I’ve only been in office for two years, I figured I just need to wait it out.
ETHAN: Alright, fair enough.
BRIAN: But you’ll follow me all the way ‘till the White House, right?
ETHAN: Of course, Mr. Sarandon.
(They shake hands. A 28-year old Dina Sarandon walks in with sandwiches)
DINA SARANDON: I brought sandwiches for the mugging victims!
BRIAN: Thanks so much, honey.
(Brian kisses his wife and takes a sandwich and periodically eats it)
ETHAN: Thanks, Dina. (Ethan takes a sandwich. Suddenly, he gets a call on his mid-90s long antenna cell phone. He flips it open and extends the antenna) Hello? Oh my God, is she okay? I’ll be over immediately!
(Ethan closes his phone and pushes the antenna down)
BRIAN: Is everything okay?
ETHAN: My daughter’s in the hospital, I have to go.
(Ethan runs out of the room while Brian and Dina look on in concern)
DINA: Well, I certainly hope she’s okay.
BRIAN: Me too. I’ll call him later to make sure. In the meantime, do you want to go out to eat?
DINA: I don’t think you’ll feel like eating in a few seconds.
(Brian starts gagging, drops the sandwich and gets on his knees)
BRIAN: NO! (Gag) WHAT THE FUCK’D YOU PUT IN THIS?!
DINA: Something to teach your selfish ass a LESSON!
BRIAN: DINA, DINA, I’M SORRY, (Gag) I DIDN’T KNOW SHE WAS YOUR SISTER, JUST GET ME TO A HOSPITAL!
(Cut to Ethan walking into the lobby of the hospital and walking up to the doctor from earlier)
ETHAN: Hello, Doctor, how is Madeline?
DOCTOR: Madeline’s fine. We had her stomach pumped, she’s resting comfortably. Your wife however, is not okay.
ETHAN: Oh my God, what happened?
DOCTOR: She squirted this odd smelling clear liquid from her amniotic sac, and now some sort of small human being is tearing apart her insides, hell bent on emerging from her vagina.
ETHAN: Jesus, so she’s having a baby?
DOCTOR: I supposed you could put it that way.
ETHAN: Oh my God, (He smiles) I have to see her!
DOCTOR: Right this way.
(The Doctor leads Ethan into Kimberly’s hospital room, where she is flanked by a nurse. Jacob is sitting nearby)
KIMBERLY: ETHAN! You’re here, thank God.
(Ethan walks over to the side of Kimberly’s bed and gets on his knees next to her)
ETHAN: This is great, Kimmy. Our last baby. You won’t have to stay pregnant like a good Catholic woman.
KIMBERLY: But Ethan, I’m-I’m scared.
ETHAN: Why? You’ve done this tons of times before, this must be old hat at this point.
KIMBERLY: Ethan, Maddie ate mascara today because I wasn’t paying close enough attention to her! How am I going to manage another kid?!
ETHAN: Kimmy, you’ll be great. You’re the strongest, smartest, most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, you can do this! Plus, I would hope our new son won’t be fond of mascara.
(Kimberly laughs, but then has pain)
KIMBERLY: OHHHH! Damnit…that was bad.
ETHAN: You’ve got this, okay?
JACOB: You got it!
(Everyone in the room laughs)
KIMBERLY: Jacob makes the strongest case.
(They all laugh. Cut to Rob, Ms. Fields and Jovan sitting in the principal’s office. The principal is an older version of Rob’s elementary school principal from TDEP73)
PRINCIPAL: Well, Rob, I have caught my Moby Dick. And he’s actually a dick. Rob, you’ve alluded me for the last ten years, but I knew, in my heart of hearts, after I brought you in for trying to bury yourself back in ’85, that I would get you in trouble for something.
ROB: You’ve gotten me in trouble for plenty of things over the last ten years, and that thing you mentioned about punishing me for trying to bury myself when I was seven, that would also count as getting me in trouble.
PRINCIPAL: Well, my white whale to get you in trouble eight times in one year and now, I believe, I win a free sub sandwich.
MS. FIELDS: Just get to the punishment, Rob has acted terribly.
PRINCIPAL: So have you, Ms. Fields.
MS. FIELDS: Sorry?
PRINCIPAL: Do you think I’m stupid? I know what you, the landscaper and Rob here are up to.
JOVAN: Please do not call INS. I have another mistress to feed!
MS. FIELDS: I am not his mistress, Principal Latham! You have to believe me!
PRINCIPAL LATHAM: Then why the hell did Rob punch Jovan?
PRINCIPAL LATHAM: Not quite, Santa Ana.
JOVAN: Okay, that was a little racist.
PRINCIPAL LATHAM: Maybe so, but I know it’s because Rob and Ms. Fields are having an inappropriate and quite frankly, illegal sexual relationship, as are Jovan and Ms. Fields.
MS. FIELDS: How could you know that?!
PRINCIPAL LATHAM: You think it’s normal to amorously yell fractions in the middle of a school day while moaning?! You should be quite frankly ashamed of yourself.
ROB: What about me?
PRINCIPAL LATHAM: No, you’re a victim, it’s statutory rape.
ROB: Yay! I’m a victim!
PRINCIPAL LATHAM: That’s really insensitive.
(Ms. Fields starts crying)
MS. FIELDS: ALL I WANTED WAS A HOT, HOT, HOTTIE WITH A BOSTON BODY!
PRINCIPAL LATHAM: Good luck finding that in jail. The police are on their way. Jovan, take her out of here.
(Jovan escorts Ms. Fields out the door)
ROB: So…am I going to be involved in some trial?
PRINCIPAL LATHAM: Maybe. But let’s focus on your assault of the landscaper.
ROB: Fuck, I forgot about that.
PRINCIPAL LATHAM: Since you’ve been recently raped, we can only hope Jovan will not press charges and the school can punish you rather than the law.
ROB: Here’s hoping.
PRINCIPAL LATHAM: I want you to know something though. Once you’re out in the real world. You can’t be an irresponsible asshole and expect nothing but a few minor, tedious inconveniences as punishment. The world is a harsh, harsh place and there are consequences for your actions. Do you understand?
ROB: Completely, sir.
PRINCIPAL LATHAM: Good. Now let’s ask Jovan what he wants to do. (Rob and Principal Latham get up and walk out the door to see a wide open window, where Jovan and Ms. Fields presumably escaped out of) Goddamnit! Well, the good news is-(Latham puts his hand on Rob’s shoulder) you’re getting a week of on-campus suspension!
(Cut to Ethan holding Jacob while sitting near Kimberly’s hospital bed. Kimberly is pushing very hard while a 62-year old Doctor Ethan Wilson stares into Kimberly’s birth canal)
DOCTOR WILSON: Sweetheart, I’m going to need you to push harder.
DOCTOR WILSON: Why are you getting angry at me? I’m just doing my job-
KIMBERLY: I’M NOT ANGRY, I’M PUSHING!
DOCTOR WILSON: Pushing my buttons, maybe.
ETHAN: Ethan, what are you doing?
DOCTOR WILSON: Sorry. You know, I delivered your husband back in ’65.
KIMBERLY: YEAH, I KNOW, WHY ISN’T RYAN COMOING OUT?!
DOCTOR WILSON: I don’t know, what time is it, Ethan?
ETHAN: It’s midnight.
DOCTOR WILSON: Jesus, this little guy has been in the process for the last seven hours, isn’t this your third baby?
DOCTOR WILSON: I guess he just doesn’t want to come out of there.
KIMBERLY: Maybe he likes the dark.
ETHAN: Stop saying ridiculous things.
DOCTOR WILSON: We might need to do a C-section.
KIMBERLY: NO! I DON’T WANT A C-SECTION!
ETHAN: Kimberly, this is the most anticipated birth of my life, aside from the birth of Rachel’s baby from Friends, but it’s being held up by an apparently bashful baby! Who I guess in this case would be David Schwimmer.
KIMBERLY: NONE OF THAT MAKES SENSE! URGGGHH!
DOCTOR WILSON: We’re going to need to do a C-section, Mrs. Donahue!
KIMBERLY: NO, WAIT! I HAVE AN IDEA! GET SOMEBODY IN HERE TO PLAY “SUNNY DAY REAL ESTATE”!
ETHAN: What the hell is that?
KIMBERLY: IT’S A BAND THAT I ACCIDENTALLY PLAYED TO MY STOMACH YESTERDAY, ONCE I TURNED IT BACK TO CLASSICAL, RYAN KICKED UP A STORM! MAYBE IF WE PLAY IT HE’LL BE MOTIVATED TO COME OUT!
DOCTOR WILSON: It’s crazy, but at this point, I’m willing to try anything.
ETHAN: Or you could just perform a conventional, medically proven effective caesarian section.
DOCTOR WILSON: NURSE! I NEED TWO CCS OF SUNNY DAY REAL ESTATE, STAT!
(A nurse brings in a radio and pops in one of their cassette tapes and plays “The Blankets Were the Stairs”)
ETHAN: You guys just happened to have that on hand?
KIMBERLY: UGGGHHHh! IT’S WORKING, MAKE IT LOUDER! (They turn up the volume, causing Jacob and Ethan to cover their ears) OHHHHHHH! I FEEL IT!
DOCTOR WILSON: He’s starting to crown, these are speed racer speeds!
KIMBERLY: UGGHHHHHHHHH! ARRGGHHHH! GET OUT OF MEEEEEEE!
DOCTOR WILSON: He’s slidin’ down the slide of freedom! (Finally, Ryan Donahue is delivered safely into Doctor Wilson’s arms. He has short black hair and is covered in afterbirth) IT’S A BOY!
(Ethan gets up, elated as they turn the music off)
ETHAN: We knew that!
DOCTOR WILSON: Yes you did! We’ll clean your baby and have him right ready for you!
(Doctor Wilson hands Ryan to a nurse, who promptly cleans him)
KIMBERLY: Did he make it?
ETHAN: Of course, Kimmy. You won’t ever have to do this again. We’ve achieved our dream of having three children as close to each in age as possible without being triplets.
KIMBERLY: I love you.
ETHAN: I love you. (They kiss. The nurse brings over Ryan and hands him to Ethan) Aw. Little boy. (He kisses Ryan’s forehead) I love this baby we’ve created.
KIMBERLY: Me too. Let me see him. (Ethan hands Kimberly Ryan) Ryan Donahue.
ETHAN: Ryan Anthony Donahue.
KIMBERLY: …Fair enough.
(Ethan kisses Kimberly and Kimberly kisses Ryan. Doctor Wilson walks over and Ethan turns around)
DOCTOR WILSON: Congratulations.
ETHAN: Thank you so much, Doctor Wilson.
(They shake hands)
DOCTOR WILSON: You know, it’s always a proud moment when I deliver the baby of a baby I had previously delivered. Except that time where it happened sixteen years later.
DOCTOR WILSON: But your father is the reason I moved from Mississippi to practice in Vermont.
ETHAN: My father’s a good man. Thank you, Doctor.
DOCTOR WILSON: You’re welcome. God bless you and your new son.
(They shake hands and Doctor Wilson leaves. Ethan goes back to tend to Ryan. Pan to a man in a hospital bed near them, just lying there)
PATIENT: That’s a beautiful baby.
KIMBERLY: Thank you.
PATIENT: Can I have it?
ETHAN: We kind of want it.
(Cut to late April 2013. A 41-year old Ms. Fields and a 44-year old Jovan are sitting on the beach of the Cayman Islands)
MS. FIELDS: This place is beautiful. I’m so glad we haven’t gotten caught.
JOVAN: As am I, my love. Although we probably shouldn’t have fled to Kosovo initially.
(Cut to black)
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