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A Few Good Men Left

INT. COURTROOM – DAY

At first glance it looks like just another television show. Heavily marketed but poorly reviewed primetime courtroom drama guest starring Aziz Ansari. As Aziz fidgets between the two expensive looking defense lawyers that flank him on either side, you can’t help but wonder why he’s doing a random television guest spot. Isn’t he a little too famous for this? Maybe he blew through all his Parks and Rec money. Maybe he has a cocaine problem. Maybe he was just bored.

It isn’t until the prosecutor calls Aziz by his real name and not some obviously made up one like Tom Haverford that it becomes clear that this is not a television show. This is real life. Aziz Ansari is really on trial for crimes against feminism.

PROSECUTOR

(to witness)

Now Grace, are you sure Aziz understood you were uncomfortable? Is there any chance that he didn’t hear your protests?

GRACE

No he definitely did. When I told him “Whoa slow down..next time” he poured me another drink and said “Now does this count as a second date?”

RANDOM MALE FROM THE BACK OF THE COURTROOM

Yeah he did! That’s my boy Rico Suave Ansari!

JUDGE

Order in the court room!

The judge bangs his gavel a few times and the heckler is quickly escorted out of the court room.

JUDGE

You may continue counselor.

PROSECUTOR

What happened next?

GRACE

We began to watch an episode of Seinfeld.

PROSECUTOR

Which episode?

DEFENSE LAWYER ONE

Objection your honor. Relevance?

PROSECUTOR

Your honor, they didn’t make it to the end of the opposite episode. It’s a testament to how horny and pushy he really was. That episode is a certified classic!

JUDGE

You’re right, that’s actually my favorite episode. Overruled.

The prosecutor looks down at his note in an attempt to recall his line of questioning.

JUDGE

(in a terrible accent)

No objection for you!

The entire courtroom is stunned. There is a horribly awkward silence. Was that supposed to be a joke?

JUDGE

Soup nazi -- get it? Sorry, I definitely waited too long before saying that. I’ll leave the comedy to the professionals in the room. Go ahead counselor.

PROSECUTOR

Which Seinfeld episode was this?

GRACE

The one where George does everything the opposite of how he normally would’ve.

PROSECUTOR

Did you make it to the end of the episode?

GRACE

No.

PROSECUTOR

Why not?

GRACE

Because about halfway through Aziz took of his pants and gestured toward his penis.

PROSECUTOR

Gestured how? Can you demonstrate?

Grace thinks for a moment before emphatically pointing to her crotch using finger-guns on both hands. The prosecutor turns towards the court reporter.

PROSECUTOR

Let the record show that Grace is pointing towards her penis. Well not her penis, Aziz’s. She obviously doesn’t have one. Although she might. You never know these days, they’re getting pretty good at hiding it. Also, she wasn’t actually pointing at Aziz’s penis. It was more like she was demonstrating how Aziz pointed at his own penis....You know what I’m sure you know what I mean.

The prosecutor turns back towards Grace.

PROSECUTOR

What happened next?

GRACE

I performed oral sex on him.

The crowd begins to murmur at this revelation. We overhear a few individuals quite clearly.

RANDOM WOMAN

Damn girl! Just like that? She’s really freaky-deaky huh.

RANDOM MAN ^

If that’s assault then I guess we’re all Bill Cosby. You know what I’m saying?

The judge once again calls for order in the courtroom before allowing the prosecutor to go ahead.

PROSECUTOR

Did you want to perform oral sex on him?

GRACE

No.

PROSECUTOR

So why did you perform oral sex on Aziz if you didn’t want to?

GRACE

Because I felt I had to.

PROSECUTOR

(to judge)

And there you have it. The defendant, a powerful Hollywood white male -- oops, I guess I forgot to update that part. Sorry, your Honor. I’ve been getting a lot of these.

The prosecutor quickly makes some adjustments to his speaking notes (mostly scratching out some stuff) before continuing.

PROSCECUTOR

The defendant, a powerful male Hollywood person of color used his male privilege to intimidate my client into sex. Just like Harvey and Louis and the rest of them. They’re all exactly the same thing and since Harvey was found guilty then it’s clear that Aziz should too. I rest my case.

The judge finishes taking her own notes and then glances at her watch.

JUDGE

We’ll continue after lunch, counselors. See you all in an hour.

An extremely worried looking Aziz watches as the judge packs up and exits back into her chambers. His two lawyers lean in front of him to quickly confer.

DEFENSE LAWYER ONE

It’s more than just the haircut, did you see her key fob?

DEFENSE LAWYER TWO

No. What’s wrong with her key fob?

DEFENSE LAWYER ONE

(wincing)

She drives a Subaru.

DEFENSE LAWYER TWO

We are so fucked.

INT. COURTROOM – LATER – DAY

Aziz stands in front of an extremely butch looking female bailiff with his right hand out. He is being sworn in.

BUTCH LOOKING BAILIFF

Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth so help you God?

AZIZ

I do.

Aziz turns to take a seat at the witness stand. As he does a small grin creeps up on his face.

AZIZ

Not really the circumstances I imagined myself first saying those two words. Although I hear that they can cost you quite a bit here in California.

The judge does not smile at this. Both of Aziz’s lawyers eye him nervously.

AZIZ

Jeez. Tough room huh.

Aziz awkwardly sits alone for a while before the prosecutor strolls up to the stand.

PROSECUTOR

Mr. Ansari, I understand that you claim to be feminist. Do you know what consent is?

AZIZ

Yes. It’s a synonym for agree. I can even use it in a sentence if you’d like. For example, my lawyers convinced me to CONSENT to testifying at this trial even though its stupid and a waste of time.

PROSECUTOR

Do you believe Grace consented to sexual intercourse on the night in question?

AZIZ

Of course.

PROSECUTOR

Is it possible that she might have been intimidated or coerced by you into actions she truly didn’t consent to?

AZIZ

I’m 5’4 and 140 soaking wet. Not really the intimidating type. In fact, of the countless rejections that I’ve gotten from casting directors over the years that’s probably the only one I’ve never heard. Too kooky? Definitely. Not leading man material – whatever that means? All the time. But never intimidating.

PROSECUTOR

Mr. Ansari you didn’t answer the question. A simple yes or no will suffice.

AZIZ

Yes, I suppose it’s possible. It’s also possible that in two minutes a large meteorite will land on and put us all out of our misery. Unlikely but possible.

PROSECUTOR

Mr. Ansari did you explicitly ask Grace for her consent prior to intercourse? Let me remind that you are under oath and obliged to answer truthful---

DEFENSE LAWYER 1

-- Objection, your honor! He pleaded innocent for God’s sake!

JUDGE

Sustained. You don’t have to answer that Mr. Ansari

AZIZ

Let’s be honest, we’re not really here to get answers anyway.

PROSECUTOR

I just think we’re all entitled to hear the defendant actually declare his innocence.

(to Aziz)

Come on Mr. Ansari, you can answer the question if you want to.

DEFENSE LAWYER 2

He’s badgering the witness, your honor!

Aziz is no longer annoyed. He’s straight up mad.

AZIZ

You want answers?

PROSECUTOR

I want the truth.

AZIZ

You’re a woman. You can’t handle the truth.

PROSECUTOR

Did you ask for Grace’s consent prior to any sexual intercourse.

AZIZ

It’s not that simple. I did what I had to do.

DEFENSE LAWYER 1

Aziz.

At this point both of Aziz’s lawyers faces are basically screaming “shut your mouth right now”.

PROSECUTOR

Grace is telling the truth isn’t she? You didn’t ask did you.

AZIZ

You’re God damn right I didn’t. Do you have any idea what it’s like to have a penis? It’s like your life is going perfectly fine when one day puberty hits and suddenly every waking moment of your life is controlled by this unquenchable monster between your legs. Now I know a lot of women hear that and think well I have urges too. Bullshit. Women don’t cat call on the off chance that the random person from across the street might really want to have sex. Women don’t wake up with explainable and uncontrollable morning wood on the morning of their fathers funeral. Women don’t furiously rub one out to Jessica Rabbit cartoon pornography. But I can guarantee you that every man in this room has at the very minimum done at least one of those things.

There is a split reaction from the men in the crowd. Some nod in wholehearted approval. Others scrunch their faces in utter confusion. One man who looks like he’s sitting to his significant other just smiles sheepishly.

AZIZ

Look, my dick has caused me a lot of grief in my life and it is definitely the stupidest part of my body by far. But it is absolutely brilliant at one thing – trying to get me laid. And you know what my dick has surmised is the number one thing you can do to ruin your odds of that happening? Explicitly asking – “Do you want to have sex with me?” Fabio himself couldn’t get laid after saying those words. Hell, I’m pretty sure even the most hardcore bra burning, armpit hair growing, free bleeding feminist doesn’t have sexual fantasies where her handsome boy toy leans in between kisses and asks “Hey you totally consent to this right?” Talk about a fucking buzzkill.

Aziz stews for a while before continuing angrily.

AZIZ

And where’s the accountability on her part? Don’t get me wrong, I’m not one of those cavemen that thinks “Hey she was wearing a miniskirt she deserved to get raped” but she admits she never actually said she didn’t want to have sex. She’s a grown ass woman with two working feet and a working mouth that she could have used to get herself out of the situation. So yeah, I might have assumed she was interested after I took my pants off and she chose to stick around my apartment but if that’s an assumption then so is everything else in life. I don’t know that my car is going start every morning when I stick my key in the ignition but it’s a pretty safe assumption. I don’t know that the brakes will work every morning when I press that little black pedal but it’s a pretty safe assumption. I didn’t know Grace wanted to have sex that night but it was a pretty safe assumption. The only difference is for some reason I’m the one getting blamed when things didn’t work out instead of the faulty car.

It takes a few seconds for everyone to realize that Aziz’s angry rant has come to an end. An eerie silence takes over the room.

JUDGE

Mr. Ansari that was certainly quite the outburst. I don’t think I’ve ever witnessed anything like that in all my years on the bench. Given that you have admitted guilt in open court, I have no choice but to find you guilty. Is the defense prepared to proceed with sentencing?

Aziz’s two lawyers look extremely shell-shocked by all of this. They turn towards each other and begin frantically whispering.

AZIZ

Just give it to me, your honor. My career is basically over now anyway.

JUDGE

Are you sure about this Mr. Ansari? You can consult with your representation.

Aziz looks strangely unfazed by all of this.

AZIZ

Yes, I’m sure.

JUDGE

Ok then. Mr. Ansari, your admission of guilt combined with the extreme lack of remorse shown by you throughout this trial has made this a relatively easy decision to make. I sentence you to harshest possible sentence for this crime – 12 years in maximum security prison. Bailiff, please escort Mr. Ansari out of my courtroom.

AZIZ

(sarcastically towards the crowd)

Awesome. My agent’s going to love this. Straight to dvd here we come.

As the crowd loudly murmurs at this unexpected turn of events, a mild mannered middle aged man attempts to get the attention of the judge.

MIDDLE AGED MAN

Excuse me. Ma’am? Hello? This is absurd.

After waving his arms at the judge proves futile, the man nonchalantly pulls out a pistol and shoots it into the air. Everyone freezes except for a random woman who quickly draws her gun and points it at him.

MIDDLE AGED MAN

Jesus. Is this what a guy has to do to get any attention around here? This is a courtroom for heaven’s sake.

RANDOM WOMAN

Mmmhmm. It would be a straight white guy waving a gun around and starving for attention.

MIDDLE AGED MAN

What does my race and gender have to do with anything?

RANDOM WOMAN

There you go again with your white male privilege. Unfortunately for some of us, race and gender are related to everything.

MIDDLE AGED MAN

You see that’s the problem with you people. You always want to --

RANDOM WOMAN

Now what do you mean by “you people”?

MIDDLE AGED MAN

Really? You’re going to try to imply that I’m racist because we disagree? Come on. I’m not even going to dignify that with a response. I’m not going to stoop that level of --

RANDOM WOMAN

I see. So you’re referring to a group that you feel is below you?

The middle aged man points the gun directly at the random woman.

MIDDLE AGED MAN

Can you just let me finish! That’s not at all what I’m trying to say!

The man takes a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself before starting again. As he does the butch looking bailiff re-enters the courtroom. She quickly pieces together what’s going on and unholsters her own gun. The middle aged man is now outmatched 2 to 1.

MIDDLE AGED MAN

All that I was trying to say before you rudely interrupted me was that people such as yourself seem to think all sexual misconduct is the same. I mean a pat on the butt clearly doesn’t deserve the same outrage as child molestation!

BUTCH LOOKING BAILIFF

Hey haven’t I see you before? Aren’t you a famous actor or something.

RANDOM WOMAN

Yeah from that movie with the math and the apples.

BUTCH LOOKING BAILIFF

Ethan Hawke?

RANDOM WOMAN

Sean Astin?

BUTCH LOOKING BAILIFF

Ben Affleck?

RANDOM WOMAN

No that’s definitely the other guy. The dumb one.

MIDDLE AGED MAN

(Cleary frustrated)

Matt Damon damn it! My name’s Matt Damon.

BUTCH LOOKING BAILIFF

Well it looks like you have a decision to make Matt and let me state the obvious just in case you’re not as good at math as in the movies. We have two guns you have one.

Matt thinks about it and then drops his gun. He is immediately tackled and handcuffed by the butch looking bailiff.

MATT DAMON

Relax, It’s not even real. I got it off set.

The bailiff begins to drag Matt out of the courtroom (to where Aziz got lead off to) when the judge interrupts.

JUDGE

Hold on a moment. Mr. Damon? Why is your name so familiar? Do you have any upcoming court cases or maybe an outstanding warrant for your arrest or something?

MATT DAMON

Probably. I’m a white male remember? But it also could be because I’m really fucking famous. Haven’t you guys ever seen any of the Bourne movies? Ocean’s 11? 12? 13?

JUDGE

(to Bailiff)

Make sure to run him in the system for anything outstanding before you hand him off to the police.

BUTCH LOOKING BAILIFF

(holding up his phone)

Just did a quick google boss. He’s had quite the past. I mean take a look at some of these headlines.

The bailiff begins reading from the phone.

BUTCH LOOKING BAILIFF

Matt Damon calls for diversity in front of the camera not behind it. Matt Damon casting is another case of Hollywood whitewashing. Matt Damon tells gay actors to get back in the closet. There’s so many of these. I’m just going to go ahead and guess that he’s going to be in jail for a long, long time.

JUDGE

Well at this point in most conversations I’d say it was nice to meet you Mr. Damon but it honestly wasn’t. Get him out of here.

The bailiff leads Matt Damon away and as he does he locks eyes with a large bearded man in the crowd. A closer look reveals the man is Ben Affleck. The two share a tender goodbye moment as Dido’s “Thank You” plays and Matt Damon is taken away.

White People Say the Darndest Things

INT. STUDIO – DAY

THE OPENING GRAPHICS AND THEME MUSIC of the show begin. It initially seems like your typical wacky game show intro except the camera work is a little too frantic and the studio audience has no white people in it.

STUDIO ANNOUNCER (V.O.)

It’s now time for White People Say the Darndest Things! As always, the white people on today’s episode are not scripted actors and have not been told what to say. Now let’s get going and bring out our host – STEEEEVE HARVEEEEEY!!!

STEVE HARVEY swaggers out onto the centre of the studio stage. What should be a quick walk to centre stage takes forever due to his excessive waving, grinning and pointing to audience member as they cheer him on.

STEVE HARVEY

Welcome to White People Say the Darndest Thing everybody! On today’s show we have not one, not two, not three but four white people! That’s right – double episode!

The audience cheers at this news.

STEVE HARVEY

To my left we have Dick and Phyllis O’Callahan!

DICK and PHYLLIS (60s) blankly stare at the camera. Dick sweats excessively under the stage lights and they both look uncomfortable.

STEVE HARVEY

And to my right we have Tanner and Cheryl Hawthorne!

TANNER and CHERYL (20s) seem much more comfortable on stage. Tanner waves at the camera while Cheryl blows a kiss. Steve walks over to Dick and Phyllis.

STEVE HARVEY

Now Dick, do you like your name?

DICK

Yeah, I love Dick.

STEVE HARVEY

But even you have to admit. It doesn’t have the best connotations.

DICK

Screw the connotations Bill. It’s my name and I’m proud of it.

STEVE HARVEY

I’m sorry. Bill?

DICK

I’ve been watching your shows since forever Mr. Cosby so I feel like I know you pretty well. I was kind of hoping we we’re already on a first name basis.

STEVE HARVEY

I think there’s been a bit of a misunderstanding. My name is Steve Harvey. Bill no longer hosts the show.

DICK

You’re not Bill Cosby? What happened to Bill?

STEVE HARVEY

He’s been a little busy with his own issues lately. We can talk about it during the commercial break.

DICK

So are you related? You just look so alike!

STEVE HARVEY

Nope not related. Let’s talk about your family instead. You have any kids?

DICK

We have a daughter named Shannon and a dog named Aaron that’s pretty much like our son.

Dick takes a photo out of his wallet. It’s a picture of their dog messily kissing Shannon on the mouth.

STEVE HARVEY

Are you guys all so affectionate?

DICK

Don’t try to make this weird Bill. There’s nothing wrong with a little peck between family members. We all kiss each other.

STEVE HARVEY

And what does Shannon do for a living?

PHYLLIS

She’s a DJ, model and actor. I always joke that she has more jobs than a Mexican!

The studio audience, which laughed at every absurd line prior to this, does not laugh at her joke. A shot of the crowd shows unanimous disapproval.

STEVE HARVEY

What about you guys? What do you guys do?

DICK

We’re retired so we haven’t been doing much recently. Mostly just writing and eating. I really enjoy writing correction requests to newspaper editors and Phyllis just started a foodie blog so we’ve been out there eating up a storm!

STEVE HARVEY

What’s the most exotic thing you guys have eaten Phyllis?

PHYLLIS

Definitely this small Portuguese place we tried a while back. I think it was called Nando’s?

Steve gives his infamous look of exasperation into the camera and walks over to Tanner and Cheryl.

STEVE HARVEY

So where you guys from?

TANNER

Atlanta.

STEVE HARVEY

C’mon now. Ain’t no white people from Atlanta. Cheryl, where you really from?

CHERYL

Well I’m 3/8ths Scottish, 1/8th British, 4/12ths German , 2/13ths French and 1/19th Italian.

STEVE HARVEY

(fake counting on his fingers)

Damn, all that math just to add up to...one white person, that’s crazy! How long have you two been married?

CHERYL

We’re not.

STEVE HARVEY

Well how long y’all been dating?

TANNER

We’re brother and sister.

STEVE HARVEY

So? I hear that’s not a problem down south!

Steve gives a cheesy grin to the camera as the audience laughs

STEVE HARVEY

Now Tanner, that’s a bit of an odd name for you isn’t it. I mean we’ve already established that you’re pretty white. Do you know who named you that?

TANNER

My mom I guess.

Tanner points to a MIDDLE AGED LADY in the audience.

STEVE HARVEY

What’s your relationship with your mother like?

TANNER

I mean most of the time we’re pretty cool. You know except for when she’s acting like a bitch.

The audience gasps in unison. Mothers in the crowd begin shaking their heads and frowning in disappointment. Tanner’s own mom begins to blush in embarrassment.

STEVE HARVEY

Can you give me an example of a time where she was being a bitch?

TANNER

I never said she was a bitch. I said she was acting like a bitch. There’s a difference. Like sometimes she won’t let my friends come over. Or she’ll enter my room without knocking. The worst is when she buys diet Pepsi even though she knows I think it tastes like shit compared to regular Pepsi.

STEVE HARVEY

And how does your mom normally react when you tell her she’s acting like a bitch?

TANNER

Usually she acts like an even bigger bitch. Like she’ll take away my Xbox or something.

STEVE HARVEY

What else does she do to punish you?

TANNER

That’s it. She takes away my Xbox. What could be worse than that?

The audience laughs. Steve turns to Cheryl.

STEVE HARVEY

Cheryl, I understand you haven’t seen your mother or any of your family for a while?

CHERYL

Yeah, I just came back from a year of travelling! It was my gift to myself for graduating college and getting my first job.

STEVE HARVEY

An entire year of travel? Sounds expensive! What did you study that pays enough to afford all that?

CHERYL

I double majored in communications and humanism. I actually had to dip into my savings to pay for the plane tickets and my parents helped out with accommodations and food. Nothing too extravagant though – just hostels. I really wanted to slum it with the locals to get the authentic experience you know?

STEVE HARVEY

So where are you going to be working now?

CHERYL

I’m actually not sure if I still have a job lined up. I finally got the chance to go through my email after being off the grid for so long and my boss seems way less chill about my travelling than I thought he’d be..It’s cool though, I think I want to go to graduate school anyway.

STEVE HARVEY

And what are you planning on studying this time?

CHERYL

Food nutrition I think. I got really into veganism and buddhism when I was in India. I even got this tattoo – it says curry in Sanskrit. Ironic right?!

As Cheryl shows her tattoo to the camera, Steve Harvey returns to centre stage.

STEVE HARVEY

Well it’s certainly been interesting meeting all of y’all but we’ve got to get to the final section section of the show – the free for all. This is the part of the show where we open up the floor to both families to talk about a current events issue. Today’s issue is the recent NFL protests. Dick, you seem like a big NFL fan – what are your thoughts on these protests?

DICK

I hate them. When are these blacks going to finally quit crying racism? You’re millionaires for god’s sake! It’s like you said Bill, maybe if they pulled up their pants and didn’t look so thuggish the police wouldn’t be so afraid!

Steve Harvey opens his mouth to remind Dick that he’s not Bill Cosby before changing his mind.

STEVE HARVEY

What about you Cheryl? You seem like you disagree..

CHERYL

Yeah, as a fan of hip hop music, I’m pretty aware of the issues the black community faces so I’m completely in support of the protests. In fact, I even went as Colin Kaepernick for Halloween.

She pulls up a picture on her phone and shows it to the camera. It’s photo of her in a Colin Kaepernick jersey and blackface.

STEVE HARVEY

And you Tanner? What are your thoughts?

TANNER

I’m all for protesting, just pick a better way. I don’t think they should be disrespecting our flag and our veterans.

DICK

Excuse my French Bill but what the hell does kneeling have to do with our veterans? Stop fence sitting young man. Do you think the blacks are whining or do they have a point?

TANNER

Look I do think the police brutality issue is definitely overstated. Black on black crime is a magnitude worse and we don’t seem to be as concerned with that.

DICK

Exactly! This is a man that has his head on straight Bill!

TANNER

And even beyond this issue, I just feel like we’re moving towards an era of reverse racism . I mean the number of scholarships and internships my girlfriend is able to get just because she’s Asian and female is insane!

DICK

Wait, your girlfriend’s Asian? You can do better than that son.

TANNER

Nobody asked for your opinion grandpa.

STEVE HARVEY

Now come on now Tanner. There’s no need for name calling. Dick what’s your problem with Tanner dating an Asian?

DICK

I don’t have a problem with it. I just think it’s a sign that he couldn’t find someone better. Someone more like him.

TANNER

Fuck you, you can’t just talk about my girl like that! You think I won’t swing on you cause you’re old?

Tanner lunges toward Dick.

DICK

It’s about time someone gave your generation a whoopin!

Dick stand up and begins waving his cane aggressively.Two burly security guards jump on stage to separate the two. Steve Harvey takes this moment to address the camera.

STEVE HARVEY

Well that’s all the time we have today on White People Say the Darndest Things. We hope you can join us next week!

The credits begin to roll. They are completely normal except the first two which are tiny and scroll through at a much faster speed than the rest. These happen to say “Created By – Bill Cosby” and “Executive Producer – Bill Cosby”.

Scary Hours

“I see way too many people here right now that i didn’t know last year,” Drake mumbled to noone in particular as he looked out onto the dancefloor from his VIP terrace.

His annual OVO Halloween birthday party was already well under way and much like last year and the year before, it was bigger and more immaculate. As he scanned through the crowd’s endless sea of mysterious faces, Drake couldn’t help but wonder if the party budget had reached the point of diminishing returns. He watched as two girls who must have been highschool or college aged entered the party.

“Oh my god, Becky look at her butt,” one of them yelled in shock as they walked by one of the many go-go dancers OVO had hired for the event.

Drake smiled, remembering that it wasn’t too long ago that he was the one using a fake id to sneak into parties he wasn’t supposed to be in. Best I Ever Had feels like a decade ago he thought to himself. A sudden tap on his shoulder interrupted his reminiscing.

“It’s about time,” Chubbs muttered, leaning in to be heard over the music.

Drake took one last look at the crowd and then turned to Chubbs. “I swear it feels like the last few nights we’ve been everywhere and back but I just can’t remember it all. What am I doing”

Chubbs looked deeply into Drake’s eyes for a moment before grinning and pointing to his hand. “Drake, will you please stop smoking la la? You know that shit doesn’t help.”

“Tell the DJ, pump-p-p-pump pump it up,” a drunk Joe Budden shouted out from the back of the crowd, rudely interrupting Drake mid-sentence.

Drake waited as the DJ fiddled with the equipment to turn up his microphone and then moved the microphone closer to his lips. “How bout now?”

The crowd nodded and murmured in approval. They could actually hear him now.

“They say more money more problems, my nigga don’t believe it. I mean, sure, there’s some bills and taxes I’m still evading but I blew six million on myself and I feel amazing.”

Drake took a deep breath as the crowd roared in approval at this flex.

“My classmates, they went on to be chartered accountants or work with their parents, but thinking back on how they treated me…my high school reunion might be worth an appearance. Make everybody have to go through security clearance,” he continued.

“All I care about is money and the city that I’m from –”

“– Nigga, what is that?” somebody shrieked, interrupting Drake mid-speech yet again. It sounded a lot like Joe Budden but Drake couldn’t be sure with all the stage lights and cameras pointed at him. He squinted to get a better look at what was causing all the commotion in the crowd. A man covered in blood seemed to be stumbling towards the stage.

Wait a minute, was that Jay-Z?

Drake watched in horror as what looked an awful lot like a zombified Jay-Z made his way through the crowd biting party-goers.

“Sasquatch, Godzilla, King Kong, Loch Ness,” Jay chanted as he worked his way up towards Drake.

Drake’s bodyguard Baka ushered him and the rest of his crew towards an open door behind them and then pulled a pistol from his waistband, pointing it directly at zombie Jay-Z.

“Don’t make me turn this red light on your head like you Roxanne” Baka yelled menacingly.

“Goblin, ghoul, a zombie with no conscience,” Jay chanted, continuing his slow march towards them, only pausing to occasionally take bites out of terrified partygoers.

“Just know I’m a shooter first,” Baka yelled out. He fired off a few warning shots as if to prove his point but it all looked like an attempt to reassure himself more than anything.

Zombie Jay seemed to find this threat amusing. “Stop your silly nonsense. Think. What do these things all have in common?” he asked Baka.

“This is not a playground, ain’t no fist fight bitch I’m blastin,” Baka warned, slowly starting to pull the trigger.

“Everybody knows I’m a motherfucking monster!” Jay yelled out before beginning to run directly at Baka, moving surprisingly swiftly for his age. I guess 40 really is the new 20.

Baka fired two shots directly into Jay-Z’s chest which didn’t seem to do anything but annoy him. He figured he had time for one more well placed shot before Jay got within biting distance and aimed his gun a little higher.

“I drink Henny when I shoot my pistol at the range. That way when I’m tipsy, I still know I got my aim,” he whispered to himself as he placed his red laser directly onto the the charging zombie Jay’s forehead.

Just like a good basketball player recognizing a short jumpshot, Baka knew that his aim was off as soon as he pulled the trigger and the pinging sound the bullet made as ricocheted off a metal speaker in the background only made the miss more gut-wrenching. Baka turned to run back towards the door behind only to have his stomach drop even further. The door had already been closed behind him.

So much for OVO loyalty.

Drake and the rest of the crew watched through the door’s narrow window frame as Zombie Jay lunged headfirst at Baka. Their two bodies exploding in the air upon collision like a linebacker lowering the boom on a poor unsuspecting slot receiver.

Blood was instantly everywhere.

Zombie Jay’s first bite must have been out of the left side of Baka’s chest since he quickly crumpled backwards towards his left. With Zombie Jay straddled on top of Baka’s torso it was difficult to see exactly what was happening but Baka’s screaming made it hard to imagine that things were looking good. The rapidly increasing pool of blood towards his left wasn’t promising either. It’s kind of hard to put up a fight when your bleeding out.

But suddenly there was a glimmer of hope. Literally.

Drake watched as a shiny knife came swinging out of Baka’s right hand directly into Zombie Jay’s neck. Zombie Jay immediately began grasping at it, falling forward off of Baka’s body and revealing a horribly disfigured and almost unrecognizable Baka.

Baka always said the Louis pouch he wore across his body wasn’t for fashion.

This is all Drake thought as he stared at Baka and Jay through the window. Baka’s dead body lay still on the floor just a few feet from where he stood and Zombie Jay’s barely breathing body was right next to him. Drake knew opening the door was out of the question until Jay’s body finally stopped moving but he felt it was finally time to break the heavy silence that filled the room.

“You know, I never cried when Pac died but I probably will when Hov does.”

“Oh you fancy huh?” Drake said, playfully pulling at the flamboyant pink feather boa that Nicki wore.

The two stood next to each other in an empty office that apparently belonged to the nightclub’s owner. The office was nice but sparse, with a dark mahogany desk on one end, a makeshift bar by the door and a large floor to ceiling window that overlooked the dancefloor. The same dancefloor where tonight’s zombie chaos had all begun.

“I came dressed to kill,” said Nicki.

She gestured for him to hand her his joint and immediately put it out once he did.

“It’s my birthday, I get high if I want to,” complained Drake.

He watched as Nicki took a seat behind the almost comically oversized desk before walking over to the makeshift bar. Drake figured it wouldn’t be long before the rest of his security team finally returned with a zombie-free path out of the building and he probably wouldn’t get another chance at alcohol for a while.

“Look, I’m just thinking out loud,” Nicki said from behind him. “Maybe it’s time to finally put this pussy on your sideburns.”

“Girl don’t tempt me,” Drake chuckled, unsure of whether she was joking or not. “You know the things we could do in twenty minutes girl?”

Drake poured himself a glass of Remy before turning around and walking towards her.

He put his glass on the edge of the table before sitting down across from her and shaking his head.

“Nah, next time we fuck, I don’t wanna fuck, I wanna make love.”

“C’mon. We done did everything, you can think of.”

“You know, you used to call me on my cell phone when you need my love.”

“I don’t need no frauds. There’s drama when you call.”

“’Cause you don’t say you love me to your friends when they ask you. Even though we both know that you do. And I don’t wanna just talk, I wanna trust.”

Drake leaned across the table to remove Nicki’s sunglasses and get a better look at her eyes.

A chill suddenly ran down his spine.

The yellowish tint in her eyes was undeniable. Those weren’t the normal eyes of Nicki Minaj. Those were the eyes of a soon-to-be zombie. Those were the eyes Baka had before they eventually turned red and started to bleed.

Drake stood up and pretended to pensively stare out the window, struggling to summon every ounce of acting ability he had picked up from his years at Degrassi and hoping that Nicki couldn’t sense his nervousness. He made sure to keep his face neutral while mentally running through the night’s events, wondering when exactly Nicki might have been bitten.

Maybe it was only one small bite. That’s not so bad. She hasn’t shown any zombie-like signs yet. I’ll just play it cool and wait it out until the others get back. Maybe there’s even an antidote out there that can reverse mild cases.

Dozens, if not hundreds of thoughts rushed through Drake’s mind in the next few moments as he tried to figure out what to do. But it was what Drake heard next that let him know that there was really only one option available.

“OK, first things first I’ll eat your brains,” Nicki said bluntly from across the room.

Drake was stunned. There was was not even a hint of doubt in Nicki’s voice.

“Then I’mma start rocking gold teeth and fangs,” she continued calmly.

Drake turned around to look at Nicki. He couldn’t help but notice the lack of emotion on her face. It was as if she was just simply reading out instructions from an IKEA manual and not the the instructions to his death.

“You’re making me nervous,” Drake said, taking a slight step backwards.

“Why? Cause I’m a motherfucking monster and that’s what a monster do,” Nicki responded.

This was all the confirmation he needed. Drake immediately pulled a pistol from his velour hoodie and shot Nicki right between the eyes. She instantly fell onto the floor into an unrecognizable heap of feathers, makeup and blood.

“You must have forgot. I been Steph Curry with the shot,” Drake said coolly.

If I die, I’m a legend.

Drake’s entire body trembled as he peered out the broken window at Oliver and Chubbs standing in the club parking lot three stories below him.

“Jump, man! Jump, man! Jump, man!” they yelled back up at him.

Drake knew that the zombies would break through the flimsy door behind him and burst into the office any moment now, so he carefully contorted his body through the broken window and stepped out onto the ledge, making sure to avoid stepping on any large pieces of glass.

The first crack that Drake heard was the sound of the door beginning to splinter behind him. Suddenly the zombies on the other side of the door seemed even more frightening. Drake knew that every second spent on this ledge would be one less second available once they got through the door so he mustered every ounce of courage in his body and stepped off the ledge.

The second crack that Drake heard seemed even louder than the first. He would later find out that it was the sound of his left tibia snapping into two upon hitting the ground. As of right now though, he was certain he was going to die. Drake had never felt pain like this in his life. It was as if someone took exactly how hurt he felt when recording “Marvin’s Room”, injected it directly into his leg and then amplified it somehow to feel about ten times worse.

As his friends rushed over to his writhing body, Drake spotted a dark figure heading towards them from the distance. Drake squinted to get a better look. Was this finally it? Was this the grim reaper finally coming to take him away?

“Oh man, oh man, not again!” Drake howled as soon as he realized that the dark figure wasn’t a figment of his imagination.

“Just hold on, we’re going home” Oliver and Chubbs kept repeating as they tried to help Drake to his feet, completely failing to recognize the imminent threat behind them.

Drake watched as the dark figure kept coming closer. It looked eerily familiar. But it wasn’t until he was able to make out what the figure was chanting that he recognized who it was.

“Platinum that platinum this. Meanwhile I’m on the carpet with a platinum chick. I got a platinum rollie, platinum whip,”

Holy fuck. Zombie Meek Mill.

“Back to back,” Drake immediately called out to his team, gesturing for them to look out for other potential zombies in the parking lot.

“I just wanna know. I just wanna know was it Quentin Miller? Was it Hush or was it Detail where you really got your flow?” Meek yelled out as he continued to walk closer and closer.

“Man, I just wanna know,” he continued, this time a little louder.

“You don’t have to try and say it louder nigga. Trust, we heard you the first time,” Drake replied.

“I just wanna know, if you ain’t write that running through the six shit. Tell us who the fuck was Quentin running through the six with?”

Zombie Meek was now getting dangerously close.

“You underestimated greatly,” said Drake before taking out his pistol and aiming it right at Zombie Meek Mill’s head.

Zombie Meek stopped dead in his tracks and looked directly at Drake before unleashing his next barb.

“You fucking dork, you changed the style because you studied us.”

“You gon’ hype me up and make me catch a body like that,” Drake shot back immediately.

Drake paced back and forth a few times, visibly seething with anger. He then stopped, looked directly at Zombie Meek and pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened. At first everyone was a little too shocked to comprehend it all but the second and third cold metallic clicks made it pretty clear. Drake was all out of bullets.

Meek let out a long laugh before taking a step forward and continuing, “Hold up, wait a minute! Y’all thought I was finished?”

Drake was just about to begin saying his final prayers when he spotted a white Bentley aggressively driving towards them from the other side of the parking lot.

Was that? No way. It couldn’t be. Either way, Meek definitely didn’t see the car coming.

“You let Tip homie piss on you in a movie theater nigga, we ain’t forget –”

The Bentley gained on Zombie Meek in just a few seconds, driving directly over him from behind and crushing him instantly. Unfortunately, it showed no signs of slowing down as it continued to head towards Drake, Oliver and Chubbs.

“We should all disappear right now!” yelled Drake as the crew scattered in separate directions.

The car continued to accelerate and Drake, with his badly injured leg, was almost certain that he would become roadkill when the driver hit the brakes and drifted to a screeching stop just a few feet away from him.

40 smiled as he rolled down the window.

“Meek Mill trying to take you away from me? Only over my dead body!”

Life’s Not Fair

EXT. BEACH – DAY

Most people go to the beach to relax but Sam (5) isn’t most people and right now she’s about as focused as can be.

SAM

Come on. Where are you Mr. Seashell? I’m gonna find you.

Sam scours the beach. Head down. With purpose. She barely notices that the ice cream cone she’s holding is starting to melt and drip. Her parents sit far off in the distance under a giant umbrella. Dad watches Sam intently while Mom is busy reading a book.

DAD

Sam! Quit playing and finish your ice cream. That thing’s melting all over the place!

Sam barely registers this warning. She suddenly spots something shiny a few feet away and rushes toward it. Jackpot! Another beautiful seashell! Sam bends over to pick up the seashell and as she does most of her ice cream slips off the cone and into the sand.

DAD

Don’t you dare eat that Sam!

Sam, who might have just been contemplating whether the 5 second rule applies to the beach, begins to cry. She throws her seashell down in disgust. Dad puts down his beer, gets up off his beach towel and walks toward Sam.

DAD

It’s okay Sam. It’s just ice cream. We have a lot more at home.

SAM

It’s not the same. Their ice cream’s better. Can I get another one?

DAD

We’re not getting another one. I told you it was melting!

SAM

I barely got to eat it. It’s not fair.

Dad kneels down to look Sam in the eye. There’s a grave look on his face.

DAD

You’ve just learned one of life’s most important lessons. Do you know what that lesson is?

Sam doesn’t know.

DAD

Life’s not fair. Sometimes that’s just how it is.

Sam is still mad. What does that even mean? This is clearly not the lesson she was hoping for.

DAD

And anyway, that seashell actually looks pretty cool so it might’ve even been worth it.

Sam rethinks this. Dad might have a point there.

INT. LIVING ROOM – NIGHT

Sam sits on the floor watching a movie with her parents curled up on the couch behind her. Mom is busy scrolling through her phone and dad is busy trying to steal some potato chips out of the small bag that is on her lap.

He moves slowly and is just about to get his hand into to the bag when Mom slaps his hand away. This is particularly impressive given that her eyes never leave her phone.

MOM

Nice try.

Dad then spots an easier target. Sam has her potato chips dumped out into a pile on the coffee table in front of her. She is so enthralled with the movie that she doesn’t notice as dad slyly takes a few. He makes sure to chew them slowly.

He begins to collect some more when Sam turns around to ask a question. She sees dad move his hand and immediately recognizes what’s been happening. Dad’s been caught red handed.

SAM

What’s a --Hey! That’s not fair!

Dad quickly puts the two chips he’s already been able to snag into his mouth as Sam positions her body to protect the remaining pile. The commotion causes Mom to finally look up from her phone. She’s not impressed.

DAD

(to Mom)

Life’s not fair. Remember?

INT. APARTMENT LOBBY – NIGHT

Dad enters the lobby and heads over to the post office boxes. He is dressed sharply, wearing a nice grey suit. The suit looks like it might be new but Dad’s face looks worn out. He’s had a long day and it’s kind of ruining the outfit. As he flips through his mail, he gets a phone call.

DAD

Hello?

He stops flipping. This phone call is more important than pizza flyers.

DAD

Hi Catherine, I’m hoping this is good news?

There is a moment of uneasiness before we see that Dad is clearly devastated. Rejection stings at any age and you never quite get numb to it.

DAD

I’m sorry to hear that. Was there any particular reason why?

(beat)

No I understand. Thanks. Please keep me in mind if anything similar comes up.

(beat)

You too.

Dad stares at his phone after hanging up. It’s like he’s mentally trying to undo that phone call from happening.

INT. KITCHEN – NIGHT

Mom is in the kitchen chopping up vegetables when Dad enters and greets her with a kiss.

MOM

Hey! Didn’t hear you come in. How was the interview?

DAD

Honestly? I have no idea. They were pretty hard to read.

MOM

Well I still have a good feeling about the other guys. Hopefully you’ll hear back from them soon.

Dad stares at mom as she picks up the cutting board and turns towards the stove. He really doesn’t want to ruin the great mood that she is in.

DAD

They actually called me today. Just before I came in.

MOM

Let me guess, another interview?

DAD

Worse. I didn’t get it.

Mom turns back towards dad. She can’t believe it.

MOM

Really? Three interviews and no offer? That’s ridiculous! How can they just waste someone’s time like that?

DAD

You’re telling me...

The two share an uncomfortable silent moment before Sam bursts into the kitchen. She’s completely oblivious to the tension in the room and skips over to give Dad a hug.

SAM

Why are you making dinner? Dad said we’re getting pizza today.

MOM

Did he?

Mom gives dad a look that says “you have some explaining to do”.

DAD

I said maybe. Mom’s already started on dinner and I’m really tired. Sam, we’ll have to get pizza another time.

This time it’s Sam that can’t believe the words that are coming out of Dad’s mouth. The shock on her face quickly turns to every parent’s worst nightmare -- pre-crying face. Sam quickly turns into an incomprehensible blubbering mess and rushes out of the room just as quickly as she came in. Mom glares at Dad.

DAD

Don’t give me that look. I was really hoping for a celebration meal!

Mom stays silent. Dad gets even more defensive.

DAD

We can make her one. We have perfectly good frozen pizza at home!

MOM

You know how much she loves pizza. That’s not fair.

Mom leaves the kitchen to go comfort Sam. Dad winces as he slams his keys on the kitchen counter. He knows he just messed up. He loosens his tie and begins looking through the mail he’s just brought in. There are a few too many past due bills in the pile.

DAD

(to himself)

Life’s not fair...

Just in case he wasn’t feeling shitty enough, Dad looks up to see that the stir-fry that Mom was making has begun to burn.

INT. BEDROOM – NIGHT

Sam’s bedroom might look small and messy to the average adult eye but to her the bedroom is perfect. The moon shaped light-night on the wall and the glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling give the room an outdoor feel. The only thing messing up the illusion is the muffled sound of her parents arguing in the other room. Sam lies in bed wide awake.

MOM

(Offscreen)

How many times have we talked about this? Exactly. It’s really just that simple. I can’t keep letting this go over and over again. It’s not okay.

DAD

(Offscreen)

So you’re just going to leave? Like our vows mean nothing? Like we don’t have a child that needs both of us?

MOM

(Offscreen)

Don’t you dare try to hide behind Sam. I will always be there for her. You need to start taking responsibility for your actions. This isn’t college anymore.

Sam rolls over to her side as we hear the sound of a door slam and the sound of footsteps coming towards her door a few moments later. She panics and pulls the sheets over her head. Sam is so terrible at pretending to be a sleep that it’s actually quite cute. Dad opens her bedroom door and lets out a weary chuckle.

DAD

Of course you’re still up.

Sam doesn’t budge. She insists on playing dead. Dad walks over and sits at the foot of her bed.

DAD

I know you’re awake Sam. How much of that did you hear?

Sam takes a moment before giving up the charade and pulling the sheets down from her face.

SAM

Where’s Mom going?

DAD

To Auntie Tania’s house.

SAM

Is she coming back soon?

DAD

I don’t know. I hope so.

SAM

How come you and Mom fight more than other people’s parents? It’s not fair.

DAD

It isn’t but I promise that Mom and I are working on it.

Sam is not impressed with this answer.

DAD

I want you to remember two things okay Sam? First, even if sometimes it doesn’t seem that way, Mom and I will always love you and want what’s best for you. Okay? Always.

Dad stops to make sure she’s listening.

DAD

Second, what’s the most important thing to remember about life and fairness?

SAM

(reluctantly)

Life’s not fair.

INT. APARTMENT LOBBY – NIGHT

Sam, now in her teens, is almost unrecognizable. In fact, if it wasn’t for the nametag on her Wal-Mart employee vest we probably wouldn’t recognize her. Streaks of messy blonde and blue hair poke out from underneath her beanie hat and her nose ring and multiple ear cartilage piercings indicate that she is clearly going through a bit of a rebellious phase. She wears large headphones over her ears that blast loud punk music. After grabbing the mail, Sam quickly heads for the elevators.

INT. LIVING ROOM – NIGHT

Dad sits in the living room smoking a cigarette as he watches a baseball game. A polite person might say that Dad has not aged well and a blunt person would say that he looks like shit. There are dark bags under his eyes and his shirt is dirty. There are far too many empty beer bottles scattered across the coffee table in front of him and he barely budges as Sam enters the apartment and wrestles off her vest behind him. She heads straight towards her bedroom without greeting him.

A moment later a furious Sam comes storming back into the living room and walks directly between Dad and the TV.

SAM

Where’s my desk?

DAD

You mean my desk. I bought that thing before you were born. Now if you don’t mind, it’s the top of the eighth.

SAM

I’m not doing this. Where is it?

Dad pulls a few crumpled bills out of his front shirt pocket.

DAD

And I guess technically some of it is over here too.

Dad sarcastically gestures towards the beer and food on the coffee table.

SAM

You pawned my desk? Are you fucking kidding me? I had three weeks of pay hidden in there!

DAD

Shit..Looks like Alberto got a great deal then. I guess that’s probably why they always say that keeping family secrets are bad. To avoid situations like this.

Sam stares at him in disgust for a moment, trying desperately to hold back her tears. She grabs a pack of cigarettes off of the coffee table and storms back to her room.

INT. BEDROOM – NIGHT

There is a blank corner of the room where Sam’s desk clearly used to sit and the moon shaped night-light may also be gone but the glow-in-the-dark stars in Sam’s bedroom still remain. Sam sits at the base of her bed smoking a cigarette as her runny mascara begins to dry. She stares deeply at an old family photo of a much happier and much younger Sam playing at the beach. As we close in on the photo we can’t help but notice that Sam has a tattoo on her left wrist that reads “LIFE’S NOT FAIR”.

EXT. CHURCH PARKING LOT – DAY

Sam, now middle aged and looking a lot more like her mother, stares at her own reflection in a car window. This isn’t the stare of someone trying to make sure their outfit looks okay, this is the stare of someone deep in thought and apparently someone else has noticed.

SAM’S HUSBAND

Sam?

Sam’s turns to her left where her husband is standing towards the trunk of the car with what must be their son. The two look like they walked out of a department store catalogue in their stylish matching black outfits. Sam snaps out of the daze that she’s in and heads over to join them. They walk towards the church hand in hand like a perfect family.

As they near the church they see a giant sign with a familiar face. This is Sam’s dad’s funeral service.

SAM’S SON

Why am I the only one that has to miss Daniel’s birthday party? This is going to be so boring, it’s not fair.

Sam stops walking and crouches down to look her son in the eye. She has the same grave look on her face that her father once gave her all those years ago. She stares at her son for a moment and just as she opens her mouth to potentially utter those three pesky words we cut to black.

You Have Writer

INT. DOCTOR’S OFFICE EXAM ROOM – DAY

A nervous young woman sits on the examination table. She eyes the posters and pamphlets within the pristine room – each one more intimidating than the last. The door opens just as she is about to begin scrolling through her phone.

DOCTOR HARRIS

Hi Michelle! How are you this fine morning?

MICHELLE

I guess it really depends on the test results right? I’ve been doing a little self diagnosing recently and according to WebMD I might have brain cancer?

Doctor Harris laughs a little too loudly and sits down across from her. He’s middle aged and British which gives everything he says an air of authority.

DOCTOR HARRIS

You probably have nothing to worry about but it never hurts to be cautious. Let’s take a look.

Doctor Harris opens up a manila folder and begins reading Michelle’s test results. Michelle simultaneously attempts to read the doctor’s facial expressions.

DOCTOR HARRIS

Hmmm..

Michelle’s face drops. Doctor Harris flips the page and his brows immediately furrow.

DOCTOR HARRIS

Well that’s not great.

Michelle’s eyes widen. Doctor Harris flips the page once again and looks even more concerned.

DOCTOR HARRIS

(to himself)

Never would have guessed it.

MICHELLE

Is everything alright? You’re kinda scaring me doc.

Doctor Harris looks confused – almost as if he forgot Michelle was right there. He then immediately snaps back into “super professional” mode.

DOCTOR HARRIS

According to the test results, you have writer.

MICHELLE

I’m sorry did you say writer?

DOCTOR HARRIS

Yes, are you familiar with the condition?

MICHELLE

No. What is it?

DOCTOR HARRIS

It’s a neurological disorder that results in unusual psychotic tendencies.

MICHELLE

Like what?

DOCTOR HARRIS

Well it’s technically quite complex and like most neurological disorders it’s really ultimately caused by a slight chemical imbalance but let me see if I can explain it simply.

Doctor Harris thinks for a moment.

DOCTOR HARRIS

You know those weird thoughts that everyone has? Like, if a turtle were to lose its shell would it be naked or would it be homeless? Or where do forest rangers go to get away from it all? Or why is abbreviated such a long word? Well normal people have those thoughts and then think that’s a weird thought I probably shouldn’t think of that and keep living their lives. People with writer don’t do that. People with writer obsess about those thoughts and keep thinking about them for way too long. It’s like..unhealthy dysfunctional daydreaming.

MICHELLE

Sounds serious. How worried should I be?

DOCTOR HARRIS

It can get pretty bad so I won’t sugarcoat it but some have been able to live relatively normal and successful lives despite it. Mild cases are a lot more common than you might think.

MICHELLE

How bad do I have it?

DOCTOR HARRIS

Well according to your test results you have a rather severe case. But I’ll have to ask you some questions to really verify the diagnosis. I do have to warn you though. Some of these questions may be a bit...personal.

MICHELLE

Not a problem. Go ahead.

Doctor Harris flips to another sheet in his folder and pulls out a pen. After each question and answer he takes notes.

DOCTOR HARRIS

Did you read a lot as a child?

MICHELLE

Yes.

DOCTOR HARRIS

Do you often spend time endlessly re-wording text messages and emails until they sound just right?

MICHELLE

Yes.

DOCTOR HARRIS

Have you ever thought less of someone due to their poor spelling?

MICHELLE

(Hesitant)

Yes.

DOCTOR HARRIS

Would you consider yourself popular in highschool?

MICHELLE

Yes. Wait....No.

DOCTOR HARRIS

I’ll let you in on a little secret. That last one is a trick question. People with writer are almost never popular in highschool.

MICHELLE

So do I officially have it?

DOCTOR HARRIS

Yes, one of the worst cases I’ve probably seen. It’s a shame really. Any decent doctor should have caught this by now.

MICHELLE

But you’ve been my doctor since forever.

DOCTOR HARRIS

Really? Have you still been coming in for your annual checkups?

MICHELLE

Every year! You always do that thing where you joke about how I’m now officially too tall for a lollipop but you still end up giving me one anyway...You don’t remember?

DOCTOR HARRIS

Well that’s embarrassing.

MICHELLE

Is writer curable?

DOCTOR HARRIS

Unfortunately not.

There is an awkward silence as they both stew on this.

MICHELLE

So what am I supposed to do?

DOCTOR HARRIS

Sorry, I probably should have lead with that.

Doctor Harris hands Michelle several pamphlets. One of the them is for a medication with a ridiculously long and graphically detailed list of side effects.

DOCTOR HARRIS

These will tell you everything you need to know about writer as well as your current treatment options. I’m also going to refer you to a specialist who can get you started with therapy and begin prescribing medication. Do you have any other specific questions?

MICHELLE

I don’t think so. This is just a lot to take in.

DOCTOR HARRIS

Well you can always meet with me or the specialist if you think of any. I highly recommend some of those online support groups listed. Some of my patients really swear by one. I think it’s called Medium.com? I’ll go get the specialists information for you.

Doctor Harris begins to head towards the door.

MICHELLE

Hey Doc? This might be a stupid question--

DOCTOR HARRIS

There’s no such thing as a stupid question Michelle.

MICHELLE

This writer thing. It’s not in anyway related to writing is it?

Once again Doctor Harris laughs a little too loudly. It’s demeaning.

DOCTOR HARRIS

As in the physical act of putting thoughts into words on a page?

MICHELLE

Yeah.

DOCTOR HARRIS

Nope. Completely unrelated.

 

Think Piece Telethon

INT. VARIOUS BEDROOM OFFICES – DAY – MONTAGE

Sappy Sarah McLachlan music plays as we see a series of young nerdy looking writers neglecting their pets. We know they’re writers because they all wear glasses and we know this montage is important because it’s in slow motion.

-One writer plays a half assed game of fetch with her dog as she sits and stares at her computer

-Another writer lays on a couch with his laptop on his chest. He gets annoyed when his dog comes and sits on him

-A third writer is so enthralled as they type away that they barely notice their dog as it brings over its leash

-Finally, each of the writers from above takes off their glasses in frustration. They each carry their dog out of the room and close the door. The dogs look heartbroken.

INT. LIVING ROOM – DAY

Another sad looking dog lays on a couch. We close in on him when suddenly HE BEGINS TO TALK!

DUKE

Hey there, my name’s Duke. Did you know that every year thousands of writers neglect their dogs to write terrible think pieces? The first time it happened to me was when my owner suddenly thought that the world needed a 9,000 word exploration of the anti-capitalist undertones in SpongeBob SquarePants.

INT. BEDROOM OFFICE – DAY [FLASHBACK]

Duke’s owner finishes typing at his desk. He is clearly satisfied with whatever he has written and walks away. As soon as he does Duke jumps into the empty office chair and begins to read.

DUKE (V.O.)

Now I may not be the most sophisticated reader but even I can recognize when a writer is clearly reaching just to be controversial. This truly is the clickbait generation.

EXT. DOG PARK – DAY [FLASHBACK]

Duke’s owner stares off into space, clearly thinking up another terrible piece of writing. Duke is busy sniffing various dog butts.

DUKE (V.O.)

After speaking to some of my friends I realized the problem was much more widespread than I initially thought. I even heard something from my buddy, Buddy, that was truly spine-chilling – some people are now writing terrible think pieces in response to other terrible think pieces!

INT. LIVING ROOM – DAY

Duke now sits up on the couch.

DUKE

It’s time to finally take a stand against terrible think pieces. So please do us all a favour and join our official pledge to stop reading them. Better yet, the next time you see a terrible think piece from someone that you know, call them up and tell them to stop. With your support, we can end this.

Canadian Mexican Standoff

INT. LIVING ROOM – DAY

Two friends sit on couch watching a basketball game. Their eyes are glued to the screen as they both simultaneously reach for the last slice of pizza that sits on the coffee table in front of them. They touch hands.

VINCENT

Oh, my bad bro. Go ahead, you can have the last slice.

HASSAN

No you’re my guest, you have it.

VINCENT

No worries man. I probably ate more than you. You have it.

HASSAN

Dude, you reached for it. Just take it.

Vincent stands up in a way that is super intimidating. This is getting weird.

VINCENT

Hassan, I really insist.

Hassan also stands up.

HASSAN

You insist? Well I maintain that as my guest the last slice is yours. Those are the rules in this household.

VINCENT

C’mon man, are we really doing this?

Hassan doesn’t budge. He pulls a switchblade out of his hoody.

HASSAN

Eat the fucking slice Vincent.

Vincent steps back in surprise and fear.

VINCENT

Well damn, I guess I have no choice then.

Vincent reaches down as if to take the slice of pizza. But instead quickly pulls a gun from underneath the coffee table.

VINCENT

Except to kindly return the favour. Enjoy your slice...bro.

Hassan is clearly shocked by this turn of events. He drops the knife and raises his arms.

HASSAN

This is getting out of hand. We’re friends remember? What if we split it?

Vincent cooly shakes his head and slowly begins to pull on the trigger.

VINCENT

We both know it’s too late for that.

HASSAN

Okay! Okay! I’ll eat it! But since you clearly wanted more let’s just order another pizza. I promise I’m not trying anything funny.

Vincent with his gun still pointed at Hassan picks up a cell phone off the table and inspects it.

VINCENT

You bought the last one so I’ll buy this one.

Vincent dials with one hand and puts the phone to his ear. As he does this he notices a slight grin on Hassan’s face. It’s unsettling. SUDDENLY, A THIRD PERSON APPEARS FROM BEHIND VINCENT AND PISTOL WHIPS HIM ACROSS THE BACK OF THE HEAD. He is instantly knocked unconscious.

INT. HOSPITAL ROOM – DAY

Vincent lies upright on a hospital stretcher with his eyes closed. Hassan sits beside him reading a magazine. Vincent slowly opens his eyes and begins to take in his surroundings.

VINCENT

What the hell man?! You knocked me out? That crosses the line dude. That’s messed up.

Hassan folds up his magazine.

HASSAN

Is it? Guess who’s paying for this beautiful private room? And the delicious pizza concoction being pumped into you right now. Hassan nod’s to the IV tube pumping a disgusting yellow liquid into Vincent’s body.

VINCENT

That’s the last slice isn’t it?

HASSAN

No, that’s the pee tube. But the other one is.

VINCENT

Oh wow. Thanks?

HASSAN

You’re welcome man. Anything for a friend.

The Only Truly Renewable Energy Source

INT. CORPORATE OFFICE BREAK ROOM – DAY

Larry Bayschen, a nerdy looking scientists in lab coat, pours himself a cup of coffee as he wraps up a conversation with someone offscreen.

LARRY

I remember what those years were like with Allen, we must have gone through a box of tissues a week! If only we could find a way to convert all of that energy into electricity right? I’ll see you around buddy. Hey, don’t forget to send me that email!

Larry, still smiling at his dumb joke, begins to stir his coffee when his eyes widen and he suddenly stops. He reaches into his shirt pocket for a pen and begins to frantically write on a nearby napkin.

INT. CORPORATE OFFICE – DAY

Larry now stands at a whiteboard in his office and is still frantically writing away. He has used up most of the whiteboard and is struggling to fit whatever he is writing into the last corner when he stops and pauses.

LARRY

I’ve always wanted to do this.

Larry moves down the wall from the whiteboard and continues writing on a window instead. We see that he is writing complex math formulas.

INT. CORPORATE OFFICE – DAY – LATER

Larry stands in the middle of his office admiring his now completed masterpiece. We finally get to see the entire whiteboard and window. They’re both filled with incomprehensible math but also several diagrams that are instantly recognizable – diagrams of dicks. Giant dicks, tiny dicks, dicks with formulas in them, annotated dicks with formulas outside them, just lots and lots of dicks. Larry walks to his desk and presses a button on his telephone.

NANCY (OFFSCREEN)

Yes Mr. Bayschen?

LARRY

Nancy, I think I might have just cracked this whole thing. I’m going to need you to clear my schedule for this afternoon because I’m really on a roll here.

NANCY

Oh okay. Well I don’t want to throw you off or anything but you didn’t have any meetings scheduled anyway. Anthony actually just cancelled. Is that all Mr. Bayschen?

LARRY

No uh. One more thing.

NANCY

Yes?

LARRY

This is going to sound a bit odd, so I’m just going to go ahead and say it. Can you buy me a bunch of those shake weights? It’s actually work related.

NANCY

Sure it is..

INT. CORPORATE OFFICE – DAY

Larry types away busily at his computer when the front door to his office bursts open and another scientists walks in.

HAKEEM

Hey Larry, we were just going to go grab some coffee. Want to join us?

Hakeem sees a Larry furiously using the shake weight below the table. It looks quite inappropriate.

HAKEEM

You seem busy, I can always come back tomorrow.

Hakeem begins to head back out the door when he notices one of the formulas on the whiteboard.

HAKEEM

Wait a second, is this what I think this is Larry?

LARRY

Yeah, you’re actually the first person that’s seen it. What do you think?

HAKEEM

Larry I’m going to be completely honest with you. This is going to be either the most brilliant or most idiotic thing to ever come out of this office. Do you really think it can work?

LARRY

I don’t know. I still haven’t found any reason why it can’t.

The two lock eyes. Hakeem is intrigued.

MONTAGE

-Larry walks Hakeem through the various formulas throughout the room. Larry is extremely excited when he notices that Hakeem has suddenly stopped nodding along. Hakeem stops Larry as if to say “You forgot something” and then draws a few hairs on one of the dick diagrams. The two smile at this dumb joke. So far so good.

-Larry shows Hakeem his brilliant idea on a modified shake weight. Once again, it looks quite inappropriate. Hakeem shakes his head and snatches away the shake weight. Hakeem then begins using it even more furiously – using two hands instead of one. This is much better.

– Larry sits at his desk screwing together what appears to be a small watch while Hakeem stands behind him. Larry puts the watch on his wrist and begins using the shake weight (using two hands of course). As Larry continues to pump away, a lightbulb on his desk flickers on. Both of their jaws drop in amazement.

LARRY

Holy shit. It works perfectly.

HAKEEM

Nope, not yet.

Hakeem walks across the room to the window sill which has hand sanitizer on it. He pumps a little into his hand, walks over and transfers it into Larry’s hand.

HAKEEM

Now it’s perfect. I think you’ve finally earned it Larry.

The two laugh at this exceptionally dumb joke like only nerdy scientists could.

INT. SUPER FANCY HOME OFFICE – DAY

Larry and Hakeem sit in an expensive and intimidating home office. Across from them sits an impeccably dressed man who looks exactly like Anthony Weiner. The two scientists are showing him a video of their experiment. There is an uncomfortable silence after the video stops playing as Anthony tries to comprehend it all.

ANTHONY

Are you guys messing with me? You guys have to be messing with me right?

LARRY

No, sir. This is 100% real.

ANTHONY

Look, I know you scientist types are late bloomers but you do know what this looks like right?

HAKEEM

We’re well aware. It uh, it actually inspired the design.

ANTHONY

And there’s no way we can use the technology in a less...graphic way?

LARRY

It’s by far the most effective design. Humans don’t often move in such a vigorous and repetitive manner.

ANTHONY

Unbelievable. We put 40% of our R&D budget into this and this is the result? A demo video that looks like something out of an awkward high school health class.

Anthony slams the laptop screen down in disgust.

ANTHONY

You guys remember all the feminine hygiene jokes when the iPad came out right? This is going to be a million times worse than that.

Anthony closes his eyes and rubs his temples as he thinks.

ANTHONY

(sarcastically)

Marketing is going to love this.

EXT. ROADSIDE – DAY

A burly man in a bright orange vest finishes putting up a giant roadside billboard. As he finishes, he steps back to admire his work and giggles. The billboard says “The Planet Comes First” in big bold letters with a photo of Larry and Hakeem’s device. In smaller letters it says “The world’s first renewable energy pocket rocket. A Weiner Industries product.”

INT. STOCK EXCHANGE STAGE – DAY

Anthony Weiner stands behind a large podium, in front of an enthusiastic audience.

ANTHONY WEINER

Today is an important day in the history of Weiner Industries but we are not here today solely to celebrate our success and IPO. No, today is much more important than that. Today is a celebration of human ingenuity.

INT. HOME OFFICE – DAY

A middle aged woman sits at a desk typing away when the lights in her office begin to flicker. She immediately begins to pump away on a shake weight looking device and the lights return back to normal.

ANTHONY WEINER (V.O.)

Today we are celebrating the innovative thinking that has brought into this world a powerful and reliable new energy source.

EXT. ROADSIDE – DAY

A middle aged man sit in his car roadside. We can’t be 100% sure but it certainly looks like he rubbing one out vigorously. He finishes and then starts his car.

ANTHONY WEINER (V.O.)

An energy source that is portable and efficient.

EXT. STREET – DAY

A homeless man pumps away on the sidewalk right next to a small portable heater.

ANTHONY WEINER (V.O.)

While also remaining cheap and accessible enough to bring electricity to even the least fortunate.

INT. STOCK EXCHANGE STAGE – DAY

We’re back at the IPO podium.

ANTHONY WEINER

So it’s only right that I ask Larry Bayschen, the man who invented this revolutionary power source, the man who Weiner Industries and the world at large will forever remember as a scientific genius to help me ring this bell. Mr. Bayschen?

Larry smiles and joins Anthony as the crowd roars. A bit of a chant even begins to break out.

CROWD

LA-RRY! LA-RRY! LA-RRY!

INT. CORPORATE OFFICE – DAY

Larry is fast asleep in his chair with his feet on his desk as a conference call blares over the telephone speaker on his desk. He abruptly wakes up as he hears his name.

TELEPHONE VOICE 1

What do you think Larry? Larry? Larry?

TELEPHONE VOICE 2

I think we might of lost him.

TELEPHONE VOICE 1

Larry? You still there?

Larry scrambles to get his bearings. We see a glimpse of his notes which contain crude drawings of “Anthony Weiner-face” in the margins.

LARRY

Uh, yes. Yes, sir. Still here guys.

Unfortunately for him.

Historical Studio Notes

Hey, I definitely love what you’ve done with this so far but I had a few suggestions for you to consider:

On Hitler:
Is it possible to make him at least a little more likeable? I get that he’s meant to be the lead villain but he just seems almost laughably evil. Such an important character should really have a much stronger character arc.

On the War Parts:
The good news is that I absolutely love the potential for further sequels with the whole “WW1, WW2, WW3” framing! However, the goriness of some of these scenes really puts us at risk of losing our PG-13 rating. Is there anyway to show the viewers the atrocities of war without actually showing them the atrocities of war?

On Nelson Mandela:
I found this whole subplot to be a bit too unrealistic, melodramatic and “on the nose”. One note characters like this don’t exist in real life and him becoming president immediately seems like a bit of a stretch. Perhaps we can cut out the superfluous bit with him in jail..

On the Clinton Trump Plothole:
There seem to be some obvious inconsistencies in this universe. For example, earlier in the piece, President Clinton is shamed for his sexual impropriety and casualness with the truth while President Trump seems to be viewed positively for similar but far worse behaviour. Please address this plot hole.

On the Ending:
We are generally fans of happy endings here at the studio which is why were so troubled by the dark and ominous ending. Are there any changes we could make to address this? It doesn’t even have to be major – maybe there’s a way to put a positive spin on the whole nuclear fallout scene.

Once again, this is an excellent start but please let me know when you can have a second draft ready with the above changes.

– Big Shot Fancy Pants Studio Exec

Dear New Inmate

Dear New Inmate,

Look, we’ve all seen the movies. I know that you think that fighting an extremely large man such as myself will frighten all of other inmates thus making you safer during the rest of your time here. I’m writing this letter in the hope that you will reconsider this god awful plan.

Despite numerous obstacles, we’ve managed to build up a nice community here at Leaside penitentiary except for one small nuisance. It keeps getting ruined by assholes like you always coming in and trying to “shake things up”. I can understand how the fact that I, a 349 pound man serving life for double murder, am head inmate in charge might lead one to believe that I got here solely due to my physical prowess but that is far from the case. In fact, there were no fisticuffs involved whatsoever and up until last year’s release of the Heinson brothers I wasn’t even the biggest guy in here. It’s purely coincidental. I was selected to be head inmate in charge in a fair and democratic inmate election. Sure, running unopposed yet again was a little disappointing but I guess the guys are just satisfied with how I’ve been running things. I’ve successfully improved relations with the guards and I’ve been able to keep cigarette inflation far lower than my predecessor.

Now that you’ve been made aware of how we do things here at Leaside, I strongly encourage you to reconsider any plans you might have regarding physically attacking me and I instead encourage you to proactively get involved. We hold our inmate town hall meetings every Wednesday evening in the yard and I’ve taken the liberty of attaching this month’s rec schedule to this letter. Please don’t hesitate to let me know if you have any fresh ideas for how we can continue to improve our community. It would bring me great pleasure to know that I’ve got your vote in the next election. Welcome to Leaside!

Love,

Inmate 7585-8393 (Big Mike)

PS: I should mention that as a consequence of a number of newer inmates choosing to view this welcome letter as a sign of weakness, I have actually gotten quite good at fighting. I can assure you that while I certainly don’t want to, I will whoop that ass if I have to.