“Habits. Addictions. Behaviors. Hope. Looking for positive ways in life to cope. Lonely, depressed, angry, glad, happy, exhausted, overwhelmed and sad. Confused, Isolation, guilt, pain, teardrops, laughter, emotional drain”
(We start with Ethan, Kimberly and Jacob at the dinner table. Ethan’s on his laptop)
ETHAN: Well, Dzhorkan Tsarnaev’s mother is coming to the country.
KIMBERLY: I’ll prepare my good China.
JACOB: She thinks the Boston Bombing was fake and gay.
ETHAN: She said the blood on the street was paint.
KIMBERLY: But she also said she sympathized with the victims. So either Bostonian hearts pump paint or she’s in denial.
ETHAN: And you know, we apparently have enough money to keep a terrorist alive during the sequester and provide Tamerlan Tsarnaev with welfare benefits, but not enough money to keep flight delays reasonable.
KIMBERLY: Actually, Congress voted to alleviate FAA cuts, but only because the cuts affected them. You know, if they let homeless people occupy Congress when it was in recess, they could restore funding to soup kitchens immediately, those guys would carve a bill into a piece of cardboard and throw it, Molotov-style over to the Senate. Because apparently Congress can’t do shit unless it affects their lives.
ETHAN: But you know what our government can do? Arrest Elvis impersonators! God, those people are annoying.
KIMBERLY: But they released him because he didn’t send those ricin letters.
ETHAN: Yeah, and now we arrested a karate instructor! Our last line of defense against criminals, beside guns of course.
KIMBERLY: Of course.
ETHAN: But you know what, I commend him for sending letters! Letters are so much more personal, that’s something I miss.
KIMBERLY: They had poison in them!
ETHAN: He could’ve easily e-mailed a virus and shut down our defense networks, but no, he took the time to send a letter and that is what I call initiative! Now everything’s all interactive, it’s like-
KIMBERLY: Like the George W. Bush library in Dallas?
ETHAN: Well, that’s a good kind of interactive. You get to interact with his decisions as President and they force you to see how right all his decisions were.
KIMBERLY: That doesn’t sound that interactive.
ETHAN: It’s interactive unless you’re wrong.
KIMBERLY: I just imagine there’s probably a lot of picture books at the Bush library.
ETHAN: I get it, he’s dumb.
KIMBERLY: Fuckin’ upside down picture books.
ETHAN: I get it!
(Kimberly’s laughing subsides)
KIMBERLY: But I do like President Bush’s paintings. I can tell he has to stand alone in the shower, thinking of dead Iraqi orphans, Afghani civilians, imprisoned and tortured innocents and all the people he fucked over during his administration and it gives me hope that he’s human. And that’s all I need.
ETHAN: Well, I’m glad.
(Ryan walks in)
RYAN: Hey party peoples, guess where I’m going?
ETHAN: Besides hell?
RYAN: Washington DC!
ETHAN: Well, I was close.
JACOB: What do you mean you’re going to Washington?
RYAN: Something historic just happened. The Cope of the Emotive Hardcore movement, his Darkness Lucas Campbell, resigned the Copacy.
RYAN: I should explain.
KIMBERLY: You definitely should.
RYAN: The Emo movement has a Pope of sorts, but we call him a “Cope”. Our current Cope is Lucas Campbell, a 21-year old from Fairfax. He resides in Washington DC, which is where the emotive hardcore movement began in the mid-80s and it’s like our Vatican. Does that make sense?
ETHAN: It still doesn’t, but I at least understand the insanity.
RYAN: Great. Now, a conclave of emo representatives from all over the world are descending on D.C. to choose the next Hauntiff.
JACOB: Why did the current Cope resign?
RYAN: Advanced age.
JACOB: How old is he?
RYAN: Twenty-two, but that’s like 85 in emo years.
ETHAN: Emos have less than one life.
KIMBERLY: But why are you going to help select the next Cope?
RYAN: Because when I visited Washington ten months ago I visited the Emo Elders and I got an in. Now, they have selected me and my friends to represent Vermont at the Copal Conclave.
(Ryan makes a girly excited scream)
ETHAN: Ryan, this is pure, uncut idolatry, this is, this is blasphemy!
KIMBERLY: I actually agree with your father. Plus, we’re not going to pay for a trip to D.C.
RYAN: No worries! Irville Satch is desperate to gain the affection of Sarah, so he and Amy are financing the whole thing!
JACOB: When are you leaving?
RYAN: Friday. Hopefully by Monday we’ll have a new Cope…for a new time.
ETHAN: Ryan, you’re idolizing a false prophet.
RYAN: These are my beliefs, dad!
ETHAN: This is a subculture. Not a religion. Your worshipping a human being, you’re no better than a Mormon.
KIMBERLY: Whoa, whoa!
ETHAN: Oh, I’m sorry! Mormons love Jesus! Not a philandering dictatorial egoist who censored non-Mormon scripts when he lead Nauvoo, Illinois and was eventually imprisoned and murdered by a mob!
RYAN: Moving on from dad’s bigotry, I am leaving on Friday.
KIMBERLY: Well, be careful in D.C. It has roving gangs of street thugs.
JACOB: Yeah, politicians! (They all bellow out fake laughter while sarcastically slapping their knees) In all seriousness though, Washington is rife with corruption. Anyway, I have to go to dinner with Mayor Sarandon, General DePinto, Shelly, Jacob and Ryan tonight.
RYAN: Well, about a month and a half ago, I went to the Mother-Son dance for my community service, and my companion there, Shelly, won a dinner with the Mayor, and she could bring a couple of friends.
JACOB: So, I decided General DePinto could come and meet Shelly, and we’d see if they hit it off.
RYAN: Right, but the problem is, at the time of that raffle, you were the Mayor, dad.
ETHAN: I remember it well.
RYAN: Yeah, well now, Mayor Sarandon’s the Mayor again, so…yeah. He’s also single, I just hope no significant competition rears its ugly head.
ETHAN: I love how you’re referring to Mayor Sarandon when saying “ugly head”.
(Rob enters wearing his “Not Eckerd’s” uniform)
ROB: I’m going to announce to everybody what I’m doing today, is that alright?
JACOB: I can live with that.
KIMBERLY: We all seem to have some gimmick that will define our week, why not you?
ROB: Well, I’m going to work! That’s my thing.
RYAN: …How is that gimmicky?
ROB: Because I’m still trying to court Jamie.
ETHAN: Oh yeah, that chick you met like three months ago?
ROB: Yeah, and I started working there two and a half months ago, but I pissed her off, so now I’ve had to spend the last two and a half months re-ingratiating myself with her. Now it’s all going to pay off when I ask her the FUCK out!
RYAN: I would advise against that.
ROB: That’s because you’re a puss wagon. But I on the other hand, operate the puss wagon.
KIMBERLY: Stop talking.
ROB: Sorry. Anyway, I will be off.
ETHAN: He’s hopeless.
KIMBERLY: C’mon, he’ll find somebody.
JACOB: But not Jamie. I mean, have you seen how moderately attractive that chick is? I would so…consider perhaps approaching her.
(Cut to Ryan, Brennan and Michael sitting on a plane in coach, headed to Washington. Ryan and Brennan are holding hands)
RYAN: This is exciting, isn’t it, Brennan?
BRENNAN: Are you kidding me? It’s a fucking honor. We get to choose the new Cope. But, we are not choosing one from South America.
MICHAEL: Why not?
RYAN: Because they’re not pale enough-I mean…I hate South Americans?
MICHAEL: There’s plenty of room for dark-skinned emos, I’m one!
BRENNAN: Are you like…Guatemalan?
MICHAEL: Wrong again.
MICHAEL Are you-they’re white!
RYAN: Do not say Chechnyan on a plane.
(Pan to someone on a nearby seat)
SOMEONE: THEY SAID CZECHOSLAVAKIAN! TACKLE THEM!
(Cut to Sarah and Michelle sitting next to each other behind Ryan, Brennan and Michael. Also next to Sarah is a very overweight woman)
SARAH: Hey, I have a medication that I need to take every fifteen minutes or I die, make sure if I fall asleep that you can get it for me.
MICHELLE: Jesus Christ, what’s wrong with you?
SARAH: Just know that it’s in my pocket. Okay, you promise?
MICHELLE: Yeah, but what’s your ailment?
SARAH: I don’t want to talk about it, I’m taking a nap. (Sarah falls asleep. After a little while, Michelle reaches into her pocket and pulls out a Skittle, Sarah wakes up) What are you doing?!
MICHELLE: This is a skittle.
SARAH: Yeah and I need it now!
(Sarah takes the Skittle and pops it in her mouth. Cut to Ryan, Brennan, Michael, Sarah and Michelle standing outside a room with a long black door. There is emo music blasting on the inside. They are talking to an emo with teased black and blonde hair, gray skinny jeans and a black t-shirt with a piece of anthropomorphized corn with long black, straightened hair)
RYAN: So, you must be from the Iowa delegation.
IOWAN EMO: Yes I am. I live on the edge, too. I corn walk for fun.
MICHELLE: What’s corn walking?
IOWAN EMO: It’s where you walk down the corn in a grain elevator when machinery becomes jammed, and there’s a slight risk you’ll drown and suffocate in corn. It’s fucking exhilarating, OH, I GET WET JUST THINKING ABOUT IT!
(A tall, white emo kid with straightened brown hair walks over)
KEVIN: Hi, I’m from the Texas delegation.
(The door swings wide to reveal the berobed and beVANSed Emo Elders and the huge crowd of emos from all sorts of states and countries bow their heads)
EMO CONGREGANTS: Praise the Emo elders in all their gory. Praise M. Shadows and his eternal darkness. By the distant father, the misunderstood son and Jimmy Sullivan’s ghost.
(The emo congregants do their version of the Holy Trinity, but instead they mimic slitting their throat and both wrists. The emo elders remove their hoods)
EMO ELDER: At ease, emo brethren and sisteren. Today, we are gathering for the ninth conclave to elect a new Cope. Our next Hauntiff must share our values. Depression, diffidence, gratuitous use of drugs and sex, bowling and emo fashion.
RYAN: Why bowling?
EMO ELDER: I just happen to like bowling. Now please, come in to the conclavatory.
(They all herd into the conclavatory, a room filled with black, emo posters, a few bars, a large meeting table and other amenities)
RYAN, BRENNAN, SARAH, MICHAEL, MICHELLE: Whoooa!
RYAN: Wow, we just did a cliché “whoa” thing like we’re some teenagers who stumbled upon Narnia in an electrical closet.
EMO ELDER: TODAAY WE ARE ENDOWED WITH A TREMENDOUS RESPONSIBILITY! Now, please, each delegation will nominate one of their own for Cope. Nobody can vote for themselves. To be Cope you must be between thirteen and twenty-five years old, indulge in at least one drug, you must not be able to feel your legs half the time and you must identify with emo culture, music and fashion. Also, no Puerto Ricans. That’s kind of an antiquated rule, but we haven’t had time to repeal it.
RYAN: HA! Michael’s ineligible.
MICHAEL: I’m NOT Puerto Rican!
RYAN: WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU?!
SARAH: Just calm down, who are we going to nominate to the Copacy?
RYAN: We’ll decide in the Vermont delegation’s conference room.
(Cut to Ryan, Michael, Sarah, Brennan and Michelle sitting on the floor of a room painted completely in black with just one single light bulb to illuminate the room. They’re all sitting against walls and there is a small dresser against one of the walls, but one of the drawers appears half out)
RYAN: This is like a scene from a Devil’s Niece music video.
MICHELLE: Yeah. Not very comfortable amenities.
BRENNAN: But quite apt.
(Cut to Shelly and Ryan sitting at the Mayor’s dinner table in his mansion in the Hamptons on Wednesday)
SHELLY: Well, I’m nervous.
RYAN: Don’t be, Mayor Sarandon’s a bumbling fool. A, truly, foolish, foolish man. If you looked up the definition of fool in the dictionary, you wouldn’t be able to because Mayor Sarandon doesn’t have a dictionary because he’s such a fool.
(Pan over to Mayor Sarandon sitting there, exhibiting contempt for Ryan’s comments)
SHELLY: Well, that makes me feel better. Hello, Mr. Mayor, how are you?
MAYOR SARANDON: I’m well. (He shakes Shelly’s hand) So, where are you from?
SHELLY: I was born in Seattle, but I’ve lived in Vermont for the last thirty-five years.
MAYOR SARANDON: I love Seattle, I’ve heard it has a great music scene.
SHELLY: It’s a beautiful city. Starbucks started there.
MAYOR SARANDON: Right. I heard it can get cloudy though.
SHELLY: Very much so. That’s why we moved.
(They both chuckle)
RYAN: Since when can you carry on a normal conversation with someone, Mr. Mayor?
(Jacob comes over with General DePinto, who is wearing a 1990s style double-breasted suit)
JACOB: Hello, Mr. Mayor, Ms. Abernathy, Mr. Donahue. Introducing, General Noah DePinto.
NOAH: Call me The Next Gen.
JACOB: Nobody call him that please, especially since he’s wearing a suit from the 90s.
MAYOR SARANDON: At least it’s progress, at our Christmas Party three months ago, he wore a light blue jacket with the sleeves rolled up, a bandana and acid wash jeans.
(Shelly, Ryan, Brian and Jacob laugh)
JACOB: At least he’s advanced one decade. Let’s sit down. (Jacob and General DePinto sit down) Now, remember the two topics you do not discuss at the dinner table.
RYAN: Vaginas and penises.
JACOB: Well, those too, but mostly religion and politics.
MAYOR SARANDON: What about economics? I lost a lot of money when gold crashed a few weeks ago. I had to make some of it back by selling some of my old gold jewelry and getting a few cents in the mail.
NOAH: Have you made all the money back?
MAYOR SARANDON: No, but Glenn Beck keeps telling me to pray that gold will come back. Just like I’m praying for rain in the middle of this drought.
RYAN: Your faucet’s still running in the kitchen.
MAYOR SARANDON: I like for the water to warm up. But anyway, enough about me-
RYAN: And how irresponsible you are.
MAYOR SARANDON: Shelly, tell me about yourself.
RYAN: You don’t have to do that, Shelly.
MAYOR SARANDON: Nonsense! Proceed.
SHELLY: Well, I’m Shelly Abernathy, I’m fifty-five years old, I consider myself a virile woman with a sharp tongue and sharper teeth. (She chuckles) I also have a dark past which will accumulatively reveal itself in a tacit manner throughout the night. My friends in High School called me “Shells”.
MAYOR SARANDON: Why’d they call you Shells?
NOAH: Why’d they call you Shells, Shelly?
SHELLY: It was a shortening of my first name.
JACOB: Seems like that was pretty obvious.
MAYOR SARANDON: So Shelly, your experience in high school must’ve been terrific, correct?
NOAH: Lots of gentleman callers.
(Shelly giggles nervously)
SHELLY: Oh my!
JACOB: This is getting weird, we should step out.
RYAN: We ladies are going to go freshen up.
JACOB: Thanks for that.
(Ryan pats Jacob on the back and they both get up and walk out of the massive dining room. Cut to Ryan and Jacob standing by a pond outside Sarandon’s mansion at night)
RYAN: Why did we drive six hours to the Hamptons to do this?
JACOB: Sarandon was in the Hamptons, he didn’t want to drive back.
RYAN: No, I get the logistical reasons, but why did WE come along? This is Shelly and Noah’s respective hay rides, aren’t they?
JACOB: Yeah, but I like Noah. He’s a good guy. Don’t you like Shelly?
RYAN: I guess, I really just feel bad for her more than anything else. Her husband and all.
JACOB: I see what you mean. But I like Noah and I feel bad for him. It’s a loving pity.
RYAN: It’s interesting how a person can be so strong but so weak…
(Cut to Rob behind the counter at Not Eckerd’s, bored. A man walks over with blood shot eyes, an unbuttoned shirt with an untied tie draped around him, some slacks and disheveled hair. He puts a York Peppermint Patty and a pack of beer on the counter. He scans the items)
ROB: Rough morning?
MAN: Gotta sober up for the judge and beer isn’t that alcoholic.
ROB: Right, but…it also won’t make you less drunk.
MAN: What’s my balance?
ROB: Nine twenty-five. (The man takes out his wallet and gives Rob the money, Rob types in the purchase, prints the receipt and hands the change and the receipt to the man, who takes both things and his purchases out the door as Jamie walks in) Jamie, what’s up? You’re an hour late.
JAMIE: I don’t want to talk about it.
(Jamie walks over and clocks in. She then goes behind the counter and sits down on a chair. The manager walks over and Jamie stands)
MANAGER: Jamie. What’s going on here, girl? I expected you here at nine and it’s ten. Is there a difference between those two numbers, Jamie?
JAMIE: Yes, sir.
MANAGER: What’s the difference between those two numbers, Jamie?
JAMIE: An hour.
MANAGER: One, whole, hour. How long is an hour, Jamie?
ROB: Is this really necce-
MANAGER: Are you really necessary?
MANAGER: I’m talking to Jamie. Because if she’s late one more time I will have no choice but to continue not to provide her with health insurance. Do you understand, Jamie?
JAMIE: Yes sir.
MANAGER: Very well, then. Carry on. (The manager walks away, singing “Carry on” by Fun) Carry ooooooooon!
(Jamie sighs and sits down)
ROB: What’s wrong, Jamie?
JAMIE: Ugh, my fucking mom is being a bitch.
ROB: What is she doing?
JAMIE: She’s blaming my dad for my life not going anywhere. I mean, how unfair is that to both of us?!
ROB: It’s extremely unfair. God, I’m sorry, Jamie.
(Rob sits next to her)
JAMIE: But, like, is she right? I have this fucking menial job that doesn’t give me health insurance!
ROB: I thought under ObamaCare you could stay on your parents’ health insurance until you were 26.
JAMIE: I’m 26.
ROB: YOU’RE 26?
JAMIE: Yes! Okay? I turned 26 in March.
ROB: Wow. I was always afraid to ask, but I thought you were 22. I mean, you said you’ve lived in your house for 22 years.
JAMIE: Yeah, I moved in when I was four. And my mom still treats me like I am.
ROB: Well, you know what you should do? Do the brave thing, do what I’d do! I’d look your mom right in the face and demand a raise.
JAMIE: She already gives me a hundred dollars a week.
ROB: Tell her you could walk away at any point!
JAMIE: I’m not buying a car!
ROB: I know, but you’ve got to stand up to them.
JAMIE: Do I have a leg to stand on? They pay for my lifestyle! I’m allowed to game into the 45 minutes before work starts hours of the night because of their hard-earned money. I’m just a loser!
(Jamie starts crying)
ROB: No, no, Jamie. (Rob hugs Jamie) Jamie, I’m 35 and I live with my sister and her husband, you’re in much better shape than I.
JAMIE: But your sister doesn’t belittle you and insult your dad.
ROB: My dad was a sperm donor, I don’t think she’d put in the effort.
JAMIE: You never met your father?
ROB: Nope, and I never will. Although, maybe I have, it’s really impossible to know. I mean-(A young guy walks up to the counter and Jamie and Rob quickly get up to assist him) this guy could be my father!
YOUNG GUY: Excuse me?
JAMIE: NOTHING. How can I help you?
YOUNG GUY: Yeah, I was wondering where I could find a pregnancy test?
JAMIE: It’s over in aisle eight.
YOUNG GUY: Thank you.
(The guy walks away)
JAMIE: Please don’t say things like that to the customers.
ROB: He could’ve been!
JAMIE: He looked younger than you!
ROB: The point is, you’re lucky to have a father you know. I mean, I have my stepfather Joe, but, I still wonder who my real father is and what he looks like.
JAMIE: Well, I know my real father and he’s a much nicer person than my mother.
ROB: Do you think my dad’s an astronaut?
JAMIE: It’s unlikely.
ROB: Do you think my dad’s the President?
JAMIE: Okay, that’s impossible.
ROB: I didn’t say “of America!”
JAMIE: Rob, this isn’t a ruby slipper situation. We can’t go door to door seeing whose sperm is most Rob-like.
ROB: Yeah, I guess not…
JAMIE: Meanwhile, what am I going to do? Living in that house is a torture.
ROB: Well, you know what they say. If you don’t like the torture, change the technique.
JAMIE: What do you mean?
ROB: Let’s go to your house after work and see what we can do.
(Cut to Ryan, Brennan, Michael, Sarah and Michelle in their meeting room in Washington)
RYAN: Okay, let’s start off with the obvious, I nominate myself for Cope, I graciously accept, thank you to the academy and all the people I didn’t mention and I can see their playing me off-
BRENNAN: Why do you get to be the nominee? We haven’t even voted yet.
RYAN: Sorry, who does the most drugs here?
BRENNAN: You, but that’s not something to be proud of.
RYAN: It is in these halls, Brennan. You best get used to that.
MICHELLE: Why can’t we nominate a girl for Cope?
MICHAEL: HA! The last time that happened was when the Wisconsin delegation nominated Andy Sixx.
MICHELLE: Since we’re a group of bisexuals, homosexuals, metrosexuals and quatrosexuals, it seems like we should be more forward-thinking in our policy towards women in high offices of our movement.
RYAN: Women shouldn’t have to worry about these things, leave it to the men, sweetheart.
(All the guys mumble in agreement)
SARAH: Are you guys serious? You know what? I’m nominating myself for Cope! What now?
RYAN: I move we put up the two nominations that were put forward to a vote, immediately. First, the nomination of Ryan Anthony Donahue to the position of Cope of the Emotive Hardcore Movement. All in favor say aye?
RYAN AND BRENNAN: AYE!
RYAN: All opposed?
MICHAEL, SARAH AND MICHELLE: NAY!
RYAN: In the opinion of the emo chair, the ayes have it.
SARAH: What?! The ayes did not have it!
RYAN: Are you calling for a recorded vote?
SARAH: I’m calling bullshit is what I’m calling!
RYAN: I’m not familiar with that term, parliamentarian, could you help me out here? (A thin, balding man in a suit comes out of nowhere and whispers to Ryan while pointing at a piece of paper. They have a whispered conversation and then the parliamentarian recedes back into the darkness) Okay, a motion has been made by Ms. Blumenthal to call bullshit on my interpretation of the vote regarding my candidacy for Cope, does anyone second that motion?
MICHELLE: I second the motion.
RYAN: I’ve heard a second, the bullshit call will be considered. (Ryan sits there with a contemplative look on his face for ten seconds) I’ve found my ruling valid.
(Michael, Sarah and Michelle start yelling at Ryan. Cut to the Congress of Emotive Hardcore gathering in the main hall with all the delegations seated, holding up signs with edgy, stylized lettering for each of their respective states, countries and jurisdictions. The outgoing Cope, Lucas Campbell, takes the dais and whips the studded belt to call the congress to order)
COPE LUCAS: ORDER! ORDER! (Things calm down) The ninth emotive hardcore conclave to determine who will hold the Copacy will come to order. We’ll start with nominations for Cope. Afghanistan?
(Cut to the Afghani delegation. There is only one member, a brown skinned emo kid with bullets hung around his torso. He stands up)
AFGHANI EMO: (Afghani accent) Your Darkness, I nominate myself, due to the fact the rest of my delegation is dead.
COPE LUCAS: Alright, Umar Kahlani has been nominated, Akrotiri? (Time sweep) Czech Republic?
(Cut to the Czech delegation. A Czech emo stands up)
CZECH EMO: (Czech accent) We nominate Andrej Klaus to be Cope!
(The Czech delegation applauds)
COPE LUCAS: I’m surprised they didn’t nominate Dzhokar Tsarnaev-
CZECH EMO: OH MY GOD, THAT’S CHECHNYA! THERE’S A DIFFERENCE BETWEEN OUR COUNTRIES!
COPE LUCAS: ORDER! I’m sorry! CNN told me Tsarnaev was a black emo from Wisconsin originally, people get confused! Anyway, Denmark? (Time sweep) Syria?
(Cut to the Syrian emo delegation. A Syrian emo stands up)
SYRIAN EMO: (Syrian accent) I would just like to say that the Syrian emo delegation condemns Bashar Al Assad’s brutal assault on his own people using chemical weapons and trust us, it does not hurt so good. It hurts really badly. We’re glad we’re here and we call on President Obama to save our brothers and sisters in Syria and respect the red line he drew. Just remember, President Obama, draw that line down the river, not across the road. Sorry, I got this confused with cutting, anyway, I nominate Bashar Al Assad for Cope.
(The Syrian emo sits down and other delegations recoil in confusion)
COPE LUCAS: Why?
SYRIAN EMO: We want to get rid of him!
COPE LUCAS: Okay, anyway-
(An emo from the Israeli delegation stands up)
ISRAELI EMO: (Hebrew accent) Hey Syrian delegation! It was just reported that we put an airstrike out on your tuckuses! That serves you for not coming to our sadistic seder! We prepared gafilta fish and ecstasy and we had glow sticks on a menorah, but “nooo!”
COPE LUCAS: ORDER! We will not have infighting in the Emotive hardcore movement, unless it’s between angry emos and sad emos. Moving on, Taiwanese delegation? (Time sweep) Thank you, Texas delegation. Excellent choice. Utah delegation? (Pause) Hello? Okay. Vermont delegation?
(Cut to the Vermont delegation. A reticent looking Ryan stands up)
RYAN: Um…the Vermont delegation has nominated Sarah Blumenthal for Cope.
(Everybody gasps as Ryan sits down)
COPE LUCAS: Well, this is quite a development. Once we get past Zimbabwe this will be very interesting. (Time sweep) And finally, Zimbabwe.
(Cut to the Zimbabwean delegation. They’re all wearing brown rags. The leader stands up)
ZIMBABWEAN EMO: (African accent) I apologize, Your Darkness, but emo clothes cost a trillion dollars in our country.
(Cut to Ryan)
RYAN: Trust us, we envy that!
(Everybody laughs except the Zimbabwean delegation)
ZIMBABWEAN EMO: No, they literally cost a trillion dollars, inflation is dreadful. Anyway, we nominate Matata Aziza.
(He sits down)
COPE LUCAS: Now, here comes the moment of truth. Who will be the next Cope? I will give everyone an hour to wheel, deal, horse trade and consider and reconsider nominees.
(Cope Lucas slams the belt in recess. Cut to Noah and Mayor Sarandon still talking to Shelly)
SHELLY: So I broke my arm trying to imitate gymnasts in the 1968 Summer Olympics in Mexico.
(Noah and Brian laugh)
BRIAN: Did you at least win silver?
SHELLY: I won a cast signed by Tommie Smith.
NOAH: Wait, the black sprinter who did the black power salute at the medal ceremony?
BRIAN: Yeah, well I’m trying to bring the Olympics to Hansbay in 2024.
BRIAN: No, I’m-
NOAH: I always loved watching the Olympics when I was a kid.
SHELLY: Right? They were always so exciting.
NOAH: I remember admiring Don Schollander so much during the ’64 games in Tokyo, I was only twelve, but I was a keen kid.
SHELLY: I loved Don Schollander, I like swimmers in general. They’re always so wet and tall and they always smell like chlorine and pot-
NOAH: The only Olympics I ever missed were the 1972 Games in Munich, because I was in Vietnam. Although, a lot of Viet Cong were trying to pole vault me-
MAYOR SARANDON: You know, I worked on Wall Street for about twelve years,
MAYOR SARANDON: It was a delightful experience for me. I learned a lot of things about life and how the world works.
SHELLY: You see, I think that’s important, especially for a politician, to understand business.
MAYOR SARANDON: Absolutely, of course, I was only eleven when the Munich games happened, so…
SHELLY: Well that’s great for you.
MAYOR SARANDON: No, I didn’t mean to-
NOAH: When I got back from Vietnam in 1973, I kissed the first woman I saw like that guy on VJ-Day, it turns out it was a General’s wife. (Shelly laughs) So as revenge he sent me to Israel immediately to deliver supplies during the Yom Kippur War.
SHELLY: Wow, that’s actually really unfortunate.
NOAH: Yeah, it was a bad decision.
MAYOR SARANDON: I can count to ten in Japanese, you know.
SHELLY: Why don’t we go out on the balcony? That seems like a good idea for a beautiful night like this.
NOAH: I concur.
MAYOR SARANDON: Who says “I concur” anymore? Can you believe this guy, Shelly?
SHELLY: I can’t believe a lot of guys.
(Cut to Rob, Jamie, Kimberly and Mel Grisham sitting in the Donahue living room)
KIMBERLY: Well, this is quite a surprise. What brings you around here, Robert?
ROB: I live here.
KIMBERLY: Of course, but, you haven’t worked here in three and a half months.
ROB: Yes, but I think I have brought you and Mel a hard, dedicated worker in my good friend, Jamie Gerlach.
MEL: Hello, Jamie. It’s nice to finally meet you.
JAMIE: Like, you’ve heard about me before?
MEL: So much.
KIMBERLY: I’ve never told you anything about Jamie, Mel.
MEL: Just-okay. It was a strategy.
KIMBERLY: Jamie, what makes you interested in a sales position at Donahue-Grisham Racquetball equipment?
JAMIE: Well, my parents keep giving me shit for being a loser-(Rob clears his throat) okay, giving me A LOT of shit for being a loser-(Rob clears his throat further) they’re giving me shit for clearing my throat? Rob, you know I can’t pick up on signals-
ROB: Jamie is a hard worker with a soul of gold who will dedicate every waking minute to her position as a sales associate at your distinguished firm.
JAMIE: Yes, I would like to associate myself with those statements.
MEL: What’s your previous work experience? Because you know, Kim and I run a tight ship.
KIMBERLY: Hmm-m. We expect you to be here, on time, at eleven or noon-ish every other day to sell racquetball equipment to coaches who long ago abandoned their interest in making kids healthier.
MEL: Absolutely. Are you sure you can handle that?
JAMIE: Yes, I can.
MEL: Okay, let’s see your sales skills. Sell me this (He holds up a pen) pen.
ROB: I will do that for her, (Rob takes the pen and looks at it) um…you could, stick it up your ass!
JAMIE: Give me that. (Jamie takes it) This pen may look like a stick pen. This pen may not be as fun as a clicky pen. But if your goal is to transform your ideas into writing, then this is the pen for you. If your goal is to make your pen move as fast as your mind, then this is the closest thing to perfection.
(Rob, Mel and Kimberly look impressed and begin applauding, making Jamie look very proud. Eventually the applause subsides)
KIMBERLY: Very good job, Jamie.
JAMIE: Thank you.
MEL: You can keep that pen.
(She puts it in her pocket)
MEL: Well, we’ll have to consult with the higher-ups, but we think it’s likely you’ll be hired.
ROB: Aren’t you guys the highest ranking people in the company? And really the only people in the company?
KIMBERLY: I can ask Mel about that.
MEL: But no, we’re not the only people in the company, because we’ve decided to hire Jamie Gerlach!
JAMIE: Thank you so much!
(Jamie excitedly shakes Kimberly and Mel’s hands)
MEL: Let’s Camp David this bitch!
(The three of them get up and pile all six of their hands on top of each other, incessantly shaking them while smiling and looking at the camera while Rob reticently sits by. Cut to Ryan, Brennan, Michelle, Michael and Sarah speaking with the California emos)
SARAH: Listen, we realized three of the last eight Emo Copes have been from California, but isn’t it time that Vermont be recognized for its emo potential? Our southern numbers are sparse, our western numbers are booming and our northern numbers are just right. Let’s see what the north can do for the south.
CALIFORNIAN EMO: By that logic, we should just gather votes for the Alabama delegation’s nominee.
RYAN: We thought you might say that, which is why we’re ready to do some major horse trading.
CALIFORNIAN EMO: What would you have in mind?
RYAN: We are willing to trade you a pure-bred paint stallion.
(Pan out to reveal a stable with a paint stallion inside of it)
SARAH: Look at that horse. She’s a beaut.
CALIFORNIAN EMO: Are you serious? How did that horse get in here?
(Eric Sullivan comes over, except now he has longer hair which is now blonde and black and he has lip rings)
ERIC: Hey, I’m trying to gather popular support for a Russian cope-OH MY GOD, RYAN?!
RYAN: OH MY GOD, ERIC?! (Ryan and Eric hug each other and then once they come out of the hug they look at each other) You look SO different from five months ago!
ERIC: I know, right? Siberia’s somehow succeeded in making me more emo.
RYAN: This is like, a supersaturated solution of emo, there’s no way this can exist in any other form but a transient one.
ERIC: So, I’m running for Cope.
RYAN: Wow, that’s…well, there’s something.
RYAN: What if we eliminate all this fractiousness and indecision and throw our support behind Eric here?
ERIC: That’s me!
BRENNAN: Ryan, Sarah can still pull this out.
RYAN: Everyone’s pulling for themselves, we need a singular candidate, maybe next time Sarah can be it.
(Kevin comes over)
KEVIN: I’m from the Texas delegation, isn’t it time that an angry depressed emo kid occupied the Copacy rather than a purely depressed emo kid?
CALIFORNIAN EMO: Whoa, if you’re trying to cause a great schism, then I suggest you go elsewhere.
(Some Lithuanian emo walks over)
LITHUANIAN: Isn’t it time we had a Lithuanian Cope?
RYAN: Oh my God, don’t you see guys? Russians are notoriously sad, okay? Plus I’ve read some of their high schools are trying to ban emo fashion, we NEED a Russian Cope! I’m throwing my support behind Eric Sullivan for Cope!
(Cut to Sarah and Ryan in the unisex bathroom at the facility)
SARAH: (Whispering) What the hell was that?
RYAN: (Whispering) I’m trying to alleviate any suspicion that might arise! Plus, it seemed like a reasonable compromise!
SARAH: (Whispering) Brennan’s not going to be suspicious if you fight for me as Cope!
RYAN: (Whispering) Well, it scares me sometimes. I imagine he’d burn me in effigy.
SARAH: (Whispering) Or he could burn you in actuality! Listen Ryan, if you’re just going to cheat on him, why don’t you just break up with him and be with me?
RYAN: (Whispering) Because it wouldn’t be fair to him! We’ve known each other for eleven years, we fooled around a little seven and a half months ago, but that was three weeks before we started dating! So I left my opportunity with him to be with you, then I told him six months ago that he wasn’t a serious option for me, then I started dating him a month and a half ago, a full month after you broke up with me, I mean, I feel like I owe this to him!
SARAH: You don’t owe him anything! What you will owe him is an explanation if he ever catches you. That’s the only way you’ll owe him something.
RYAN: God, I know…I’m sorry, but I have to pull for Eric to save face. If you win, then that’d be great, but I don’t want to appear wishy-washy or biased.
SARAH: Ugh…fine. Let’s go back out there.
(Ryan and Sarah walk out of the bathroom to see Brennan standing there, to their slight startle)
RYAN: Oh, hey Brennan! You scared us.
BRENNAN: What were you guys doing in there?
SARAH: You know, fucking.
(Brennan, Sarah and Ryan laugh as Ryan glares slightly at Sarah)
BRENNAN: You gotta invite me to these bathroom orgies, guys, I can bring a fruit plate! (They laugh and Brennan takes Ryan’s hand. They both start making out in front of Sarah. Sarah just walks away. Once Ryan and Brennan are done, they look at each other) Are you okay?
RYAN: Yeah, I’m…fine.
BRENNAN: Okay. Let’s go back to the old grind.
(Ryan and Brennan walk back into the main meeting hall. They go to the area where the Vermont, California, Texas, Lithuania and Russian delegations were making deals)
BRENNAN: Hey guys, any progress?
ERIC: Progress? Are you kidding me? We’ve had a breakthrough.
RYAN: Really? Who are we going with?
ERIC: A total dark horse candidate.
SARAH: Ooh, who is he?
ERIC: An actual dark horse.
(Pan out to reveal a dark brown colored horse with a black mane that goes over its eyes)
ERIC: You’re forgiven.
(Cut to Mayor Sarandon, Noah and Shelly standing out on the balcony)
NOAH: It’s a beautiful night…who does that remind me of?
MAYOR SARANDON: In terms of beauty THAT IS.
NOAH: Do you think your clarification took my thunder away?
MAYOR SARANDON: That was my goal.
SHELLY: You know, this is why I’ve avoided the dating scene.
NOAH: What do you mean?
SHELLY: You know, just…guys competing over me like animals compete over…the dead carcasses of other animals. It’s all a game, it seems.
MAYOR SARANDON: It wasn’t my intention to-
SHELLY: Yes it was. It was both of your intentions.
NOAH: Listen Shelly, I’m sorry if we came off that way.
MAYOR SARANDON: Yeah.
SHELLY: Thank you. But let’s do this properly. Not in a clearly set-up kind of way.
MAYOR SARANDON: Actually, originally you were going to have dinner with Mayor Donahue, but he’s no longer in office.
SHELLY: Still though, Noah was selected for this reason, and the Mayor of Hansbay just kind of factored in, I feel like we’re forcing this.
NOAH: I’m not.
(Ryan and Jacob come onto the balcony)
RYAN: Who here is an item?
JACOB: Is it Brian and Shelly? Or Noah and Taylor Swift?
NOAH: I’m half-flattered and half-insulted.
SHELLY: Could someone just take me home?
MAYOR SARANDON: Yeah, I’ll take you home.
NOAH: Nonsense, I will take you home.
MAYOR SARANDON: Senselessness! I paid for her ride here, I shall pay for her ride back.
JACOB: Yeah, and Ryan will take Noah and I back, since Noah has a suspended license for-
JACOB: Yes, he has a suspended license for fun, I’m not allowed to drive long distances since the Adirondacks incident and although Ryan isn’t the best driver since sliced bread, he is the best driver since sliced wrist.
RYAN: Jesus, that never gets old.
(Cut to Mayor Sarandon driving Shelly down a sparse road in Long Island, near the shore, late at night)
MAYOR SARANDON: I hope you enjoyed your stay, ma’am.
SHELLY: I did, and you don’t have to call me ma’am.
MAYOR SARANDON: Well, I’m sorry about that.
SHELLY: it’s okay.
MAYOR SARANDON: I really didn’t mean to make you feel like a piece of meat we were fighting over.
SHELLY: No, I understand.
MAYOR SARANDON: I suppose I’m just getting older, I don’t know where the boundaries are anymore. Athletes like Jason Collins can be openly gay rather than just catching a glance during a slam dunk and then repenting for the rest of the day.
SHELLY: That’s true.
MAYOR SARANDON: I just-(Mayor Sarandon contemplatively looks out the window) I just don’t know how to-
SHELLY: MAYOR, LOOK OUT!
(Mayor Sarandon’s car goes off the road and falls of the bridge into the water below. Cut to Mayor Sarandon and Shelly underwater. Mayor Sarandon’s awake, but Shelly is passed out. Sarandon unbuckles his seatbelt and then unbuckles her. He then pushes her out of the car door. He then painstakingly carries while desperately kicking his legs to the top. He then crawls up on the shore, below the road. He drags Shelly and shakes her)
MAYOR SARANDON: SHELLY! (Shake again) SHELLY!!
(Shelly coughs and sits up)
SHELLY: Oh my God, what happened?
MAYOR SARANDON: You’re okay, that’s what happened.
SHELLY: Did we have a car wreck?
MAYOR SARANDON: Yes. But I pulled you out. It was hard, but it was worth it.
SHELLY: …Thank you so much.
(Shelly hugs Mayor Sarandon and he gives into the warm embrace. Cut to Rob leaning against Kimberly’s doorway while Kimberly puts takes off her jewelry in her bedroom)
KIMBERLY: I have to say, that was a perspicacious idea.
KIMBERLY: She’s sharp. I feel like I could use her to whittle, and the thing I would whittle would be ten times sharper.
ROB: Yeah, she’s a…she’s really something. Hey listen, I feel like, since I brought Jamie to you, maybe I should be rewarded with my job back. You know, for a job well have.
(Kimberly turns around)
KIMBERLY: Rob, we can’t even afford to pay Jamie, much less you.
ROB: I know, but this isn’t about money. It’s about right, wrong and the American way.
KIMBERLY: Nice persuasive talking point, but I am kind of concerned about how willing you were to spill leads to our competitors.
ROB: Kim, that competitor is your partner now! You should be THANKING me. I won’t say another word to a competitor and even if I do, it’ll probably make you rich!
KIMBERLY: Don’t do it at all! I don’t care if the Queen of England is selling racquetball equipment, don’t spill our leads.
ROB: Fine, you’re right. I won’t.
KIMBERLY: Ugh…I suppose you have redeemed yourself. Plus, you do like Jamie, I’m sure you two would work great with each other.
ROB: I would work better than her, but yes, there would be a familiarity.
KIMBERLY: Watch it, but for now, I’d say you’re re-hired.
ROB: Who has ninety-nine problems and a job isn’t one? That would be me!
KIMBERLY: Usually you’d shake my hand at this point.
ROB: Later, I will. But right now I have to karate chop things in the garage for an hour out of celebration.
(Cut to Lucas Campbell on the dais)
COPE LUCAS: By a vote of 300-48, the next Cope of the Emotive Hardcore movement is, this horse!
(The emo horse emerges from backstage, leashed by his handler as people applaud. Once the applause dies down, Kevin gets on stage)
KEVIN: This is an OUTRAGE! You know what?! I AM THE NEW COPE OF THE POST-HORSE EMOTIVE HARDCORE MOVEMENT!
RYAN: And thus, the schism begins.
(Cut to black)
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Script / Humor
Script / Humor
Script / Humor
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