Rat Race - Working your way up the gutter is harder than it looks
Episode #3 - Curiouser and Curiouser
FADE IN:
INT: THE EL
(ROSCOE & STU are on the el, enroute to ARTIE's house. STU has tickets to a Cubs night game. STU is wearing a Cubs hat.)
ROSCOE:
Tell me again how you got these tickets?
(VAGRANT walks through shot, holding his hands up to his neck to simulate gills. He doesn't make eye contact with anyone.)
VAGRANT:
I'm a fish! I'm a fish! Look at me, for Chrissake! I'm a fish!
(Heads O.C.)
STU:
My patient, Mr. Feldon.
ROSCOE:
(Looking in direction of VAGRANT)
That was your patient?
STU:
No, I got the tickets from my patient, Mr. Feldon.
ROSCOE:
Oh right. The guy who thinks he's Dick Clark.
STU:
Exactly. He came in for his regular appointment today and told me that Ed McMahon was waiting for him downstairs in the Prize Patrol Van.
ROSCOE:
Oh my.
STU:
Apparently he and Ed have to drop off the sweepstakes check for ten million dollars. He said to me that he would rather go to the Cubs game, but it's in his contract to monitor Ed and make sure he doesn't cash the check and try to piss away the prize money on whiskey and whores. So he offered me three tickets for tonight's Cubs/Mets game.
ROSCOE:
Why did he have three tickets?
STU:
Multiple personality disorder. He also thinks he's Ava Gardner and Dom Deluise.
ROSCOE:
Aren't you aggravating the problem by taking the tickets?
STU:
Look where these seats are.
(STU shows tickets to ROSCOE, who yells "Hey-oh!!" like Ed McMahon.)
ROSCOE:
Wait a minute. You have a group therapy session on Thursday nights.
STU:
Yeah. I blew it off. Left them a bunch of worksheets to do instead.
ROSCOE:
Didn't you blow them off last week to go to Blues Fest?
STU:
Yep.
ROSCOE:
What support group is this?
STU:
It's a self-esteem workshop for people suffering from fear of rejection.
INT: STU'S OFFICE
(Six rats are sitting on sofa and chairs in a makeshift circle in STU'S office. RAT #2 is smoking. RAT #1 has a Styrofoam cup of coffee. RAT #4 is knitting, oblivious to everything around her.)
RAT #1:
He's not coming again, is he?
RAT #2:
No shit, jack-ass. And it's your fault he keeps ditching us all the time.
(RAT #1 bursts into tears and runs from the room.)
RAT #3:
(To RAT #4)
Will you go out with me?
RAT #4:
(Without looking up from knitting)
Not if survival of the species depended on it.
RAT #3:
Shit.
EXT: ARTIE's FRONT DOOR
ROSCOE:
(Ringing doorbell)
I can't believe Artie is able to go on such short notice. He's always able to do everything.
STU:
The guy is a freak of nature. He has 23 kids...
ROSCOE:
Twenty-five, I think.
STU:
Twenty-five kids, works full time, Rita must hit two hundred seminars a year, she makes all the kids' clothing, she speaks I don't know how many languages, and the two of them are always on schedule, always happy, always patient.
ROSCOE:
You want to kill them, don't you.
STU:
Badly.
MARTIN (ARTIE's son):
(Opening front door)
Hi Roscoe.
STU:
Hey there, little buddy.
MARTIN:
I don't believe I would define our relationship as "buddy."
STU:
Heh-heh. Cute kid. Is your daddy home?
MARTIN:
No. He left 25 children alone in the house, unfed and unsupervised so he could score some rock down in the projects.
STU:
You're a real charmer, aren't you?
MARTIN:
My mom says you're unfit to practice psychology.
STU:
Did you know that with one phone call to the state board of mental health I could have you committed for the rest of your life?
MARTIN:
(Running away in fear)
Dad!!
ROSCOE:
You certainly have a way with kids, Doc.
STU:
Little fucking ingrate.
INT: ARTIE'S LIVING ROOM
(ARTIE enters room and waves to STU and ROSCOE. He is on the telephone, a remote unit clipped to his belt with a head set. In his hand is a Palm Pilot, which he is accessing as he talks on the phone.)
ARTIE:
Right. Trish will baby-sit the kids in age brackets B, C and D until 9:00, and then when she moves over to relieve Becky on the A bracket, you come over and start the movie and Jiffy Pop for brackets E, F and G. I've printed up an org chart you can reference when you get here. It tells you who needs cereal before bed, who gets to sit on the sofa this evening and where the extra Band-Aids are located. Thanks again for filling in, Mrs. Brown.
ROSCOE:
(Whispering to STU)
Isn't Mrs. Brown the one who smells like Play-Doh?
STU:
I didn't know Play-Doh had a smell.
ROSCOE:
Smell Mrs. Brown sometime.
STU:
No thanks.
ARTIE:
(Turns phone off and removes headset)
Hi guys. Ready for the game?
ROSCOE:
The question is, are you?
ARTIE:
Everything all squared away except for one more thing.
ROSCOE:
What is it?
ARTIE:
I need to read a bedtime story to the triplets.
ROSCOE:
What's the selection tonight?
STU:
Jesus, don't read The Giving Tree.
ROSCOE:
Why not?
STU:
Because everyone in the room always cries except me. I end up looking shallow and heartless.
ROSCOE:
You are shallow and heartless.
STU:
You don't have to call attention to it all the time.
ARTIE:
Don't worry, I'm not reading The Giving Tree. We're doing something a little different tonight. The Pool Party.
STU:
Never heard of it.
ARTIE:
Heard of it? You lived it.
ROSCOE:
The pool party? Our pool party?
ARTIE:
Yep.
STU:
What the hell are you talking about?
ARTIE:
Rita just came back from a seminar on truth in storytelling, and I would like the kids to know about the pool party. I wrote it all down in my journal.
STU:
I don't normally say this to anyone but my patients, but are you fucking nuts?
ARTIE:
The facilitator at the seminar told Rita that it's good to expose kids to the realities of the adult world at an early age. Prevents the shock when they're older.
STU:
And to think all this time I was under the impression that you were a fit parent.
ARTIE:
Relax. We experienced the pool party first hand, and look how we turned out.
STU:
My point exactly.
ROSCOE:
Are you sure about this?
ARTIE:
Positive. Besides, their uncle Kevin is coming to town in a few weeks and I thought I should prepare them a bit.
STU:
First you want them to know about the pool party and then you're going to expose them to your brother Kevin? I thought you loved your offspring.
INT: TRIPLETS' BEDROOM
(The triplets, all boys, are in the same bed. When ARTIE, ROSCOE and STU enter, they come out from under their covers and start jumping on the bed. They are wearing little pajamas with drawings of cheese wedges and garbage cans on them.)
ARTIE:
Okay boys, crawl back under the covers and I will tell you a story.
STU:
I want to go on record as saying your portrayal of me as a child is inaccurate.
ARTIE:
I haven't even started yet.
STU:
Just covering my bases.
TRIPLET #1:
Does this story have nudity?
ARTIE:
Not extensive, but some.
TRIPLET #2:
Does this story have profanity?
ARTIE:
I'd give it a PG-13 rating.
TRIPLET #3:
Does this story have drug abuse?
ARTIE:
How do you feel about alcohol abuse?
TRIPLET #3:
(After conferring with the other two briefly)
We'll accept alcohol as a substitution if you can embellish on the nudity.
ARTIE:
I'll see what I can do. This story takes place a long time ago, when Stu, Roscoe and I were just a few years older than you are now. Armed with his Daisy pump BB. rifle, my older brother, your Uncle Kevin, was on another endless rampage of a sugar buzz, and his pockets were bulging with little copper bb's. Kevin's favorite target was the three of us, and for most of our childhood we thought we were doomed to die a slow and agonizing death, our corpses carpeted with tiny red welts. On the day of the pool party, Kevin had us right where he wanted us: trapped behind Mr. Kovac's station wagon.
STU:
Oh yeah. This is a great children's story.
EXT: BEHIND MR. KOVAC'S STATION WAGON
ARTIE, ROSCOE & STU, as kids, huddled behind Mr. KOVAC'S station wagon. Bb's are whizzing overhead and ricocheting off the car.
ROSCOE:
(Admiring the paneling on the side of the station wagon)
Do you think this is real wood or just veneer?
ROSCOE:
We live in too nice of a neighborhood for this kind of crime. Why don't we make a run for it?
ARTIE:
Run where?
STU:
(Pointing O.C.)
There.
ROSCOE:
To that leprechaun lawn ornament?
STU:
No! Into Kovac's backyard.
ARTIE:
You know, that leprechaun looks a lot like Buddy Hackett.
ROSCOE:
See, now I think it looks more like Morey Amsterdam.
ARTIE:
Yeah, I'll give you that. But there is a little Buddy Hackett there. Around the nose, mostly.
ROSCOE:
Oh yeah. Now I see it. Definitely.
STU:
What is with you two? We're about to be killed here and you're playing celebrity look-alike with a lawn ornament?!
KEVIN:
(O.C.)
Come on out and fight, you pansies!
STU:
I gotta pee.
ROSCOE:
So pee.
STU:
Where, here?
ROSCOE:
Where else?
STU:
I can't pee here. I'm getting shot at.
ROSCOE:
Don't worry, his aim isn't that good.
ARTIE:
Nobody's aim is that good.
STU:
Why does he hate us so much?
ARTIE:
You should have thought of that this morning.
STU:
Me? What the heck did I do?
ARTIE:
You broke the breakfast rule.
STU:
Huh?
ROSCOE:
No talking to Kevin before breakfast. You know the rule and you broke it.
INT: ARTIE'S KITCHEN TABLE
(Flashback to KEVIN coming up the basement steps in his torn underwear. His hair is a mess. The boys are at the breakfast table, playing Go Fish.)
ARTIE:
Nobody say a word to him until he eats.
INT: ARTIE'S TRIPLETS' BEDROOM
STU:
Wait a minute. We're having a flashback in a flashback? What the hell kind of story is this?
(Triplets glare at STU in silence. STU puts his hands up in defense.
STU:
All right.
INT: ARTIE'S KITCHEN TABLE
(Back to kitchen flashback. A young STU sitting at the table. STU is giggling and whispering to ARTIE.)
STU:
What's with the ripped underwear?
ARTIE:
(Whispering)
They're his favorite. Now shut up.
(The boys watch KEVIN get a bowl, a box of Count Chocula and milk. He still looks half asleep and none too happy.)
STU:
(Giggling and whispering to ROSCOE)
I can see his balls. I can. Look.
(KEVIN walks to the kitchen table, pulls up a chair, sits down, pours cereal and milk and starts reading the back of the cereal box. The boys are quiet as STU and ROSCOE try and suppress a laugh. ARTIE is glaring at STU and shaking his head, trying to keep him quiet.)
STU:
God, Kevin. I can see your balls.
KEVIN:
God, Stu. Why are you looking?
EXT: BEHIND MR. KOVAC'S STATION WAGON
STU:
That is what sent him into this killing frenzy?
ARTIE:
Stu, you know the link between his sugar intake and his mood swings. How many times have I told you not to talk to him when he's eating?
STU:
He's always eating!
ROSCOE:
We'll just have to wait out his sugar buzz. Artie, what all has Kevin eaten today?
ARTIE:
(Pulling list out of pocket)
Let's see. He had those two bowls of Count Chocula at breakfast along with half a jar of Marshmallow Fluff and a glass of Ovaltine with double scoops in it.
STU:
Who eats Marshmallow Fluff out of the jar?
ROSCOE:
What did he eat for lunch?
ARTIE:
(Pulling another list out of his pocket)
Six Hostess Snowballs, two Ding Dongs, three cans of Dr. Pepper and a Snickers bar.
STU:
Why does your mom buy that shit?! We could be here for hours before he calms down.
ARTIE:
(Still looking at list. A look of concern on his face)
It gets worse.
STU:
How could this get worse?
ARTIE:
He has a pocket full of Oreo cookies.
(Dramatic music. Scene cuts to KEVIN pulling apart an Oreo and smearing it all over his mouth. Oreo cookie goo is stuck between his teeth. Cut back to boys.)
STU:
Oreo cookies?! Are you shitting me? He's gonna kill us. I know for a fact he is going to kill us. Nobody can eat that much sugar, carry a gun and not end up on a killing spree. I can't take this!
(STU bolts from the car. Cut to KEVIN.)
KEVIN:
Release the hounds!
(KEVIN opens fire. Cut back to STU, who is screaming and running back and forth, trying to dodge bb's and yelping every time one hits him.)
ROSCOE:
Stu, over here!
ARTIE:
Stu, run into Kovac's!
(STU continues running back and forth, bb's flying. Cut to KEVIN.)
KEVIN:
(Laughing and shooting)
Hey Stu, can you see my balls!?
ROSCOE:
(Watching STU run back and forth)
For Chrissakes, Stu! Run somewhere!
ARTIE:
Come on, Roscoe. He's dead if we leave him out there.
(All three are running around, getting shot at, getting hit and yelping. They finally run down sidewalk, past leprechaun lawn ornament. STU stops and looks at it.)
STU:
(Strangely calm for a moment)
I don't know. I think he looks more like Merv Griffin.
(BB hits STU and sends him running around corner and into Kovac's house.)
EXT: MR. KOVAC'S BACK YARD
(The boys make it into Mr. Kovac's backyard, which has dozens of lawn ornaments and wind socks in it.)
ROSCOE:
(Looking around at everything)
What the?
STU:
Oh my god. It's the ancient lawn ornament burial ground.
MR. KOVAC:
(Opening the sliding glass door)
Ben-Ben, where have you been? It's so good to see you. You're just in time for Hee-Haw. Come in. Come in. Mother! Ben-Ben and his friends are here.
MRS. KOVAC:
(O.C. and shouting from the kitchen)
Ben-Ben died 18 years ago, you ignorant turd!
MR. KOVAC:
Don't mind mother. She's bloated and angry.
ROSCOE:
What should we do?
ARTIE:
Either pretend to be Ben-Ben and his pals or get shot by Kevin.
STU:
(Stepping forward on the heels of ARTIE's comments to shake MR. KOVAC'S hand)
Webster. Webster Covington. Ben-Ben and I sailed together in prep school. Pleasure to meet you, Kovac. Be an old sport and show me where the head is, won't you?
(Walks into the house)
Mother Kovac. You look as ravishing as ever.
MRS. KOVAC:
(Crashing sound)
Ow! God Dammit you made me spill the soup!
MR. KOVAC:
Come on in, boys. Don't want to air condition the neighborhood, you know. Mother says the freon is melting her beaver.
(MR. KOVAC motions to beaver lawn ornament in backyard. Beaver is falling apart. Boys enter house and sliding door shuts behind them.)
INT: INSIDE MR. KOVAC'S HOUSE
(Inside the house the boys stand looking at all of the knick knacks on the walls, including a framed newspaper article with the headline: Local Rat Hit By Bus. MR. KOVAC is in the picture, his head bandaged up, giving the thumbs up sign to the camera. On the stereo is something like The Ray Conniff Singers.)
MR. KOVAC:
Let me get you some iced tea, Ben-Ben. I'm sorry, I didn't catch your friend's name.
(MR. KOVAC has a hideous lazy eye, and it's impossible to see who he is looking at.)
ROSCOE:
(Whispering to ARTIE)
Which one of us is Ben-Ben?
ARTIE:
(Rocking back and forth, trying to get a read on which eye is looking at them)
"I'm...not...sure. Let me try something.
(ARTIE walks over to wall of knick knacks.)
ARTIE:
Boy oh boy, Kovac, your porcelain unicorn collection is practically twice the size since the last time I was here.
MR. KOVAC:
When were you ever here?
ARTIE:
Uhhh, I...I wasn't here, here. More like I heard...saw the...
MR. KOVAC:
(Turning to ROSCOE)
Ben-Ben, were you bragging about my unicorns again?
ROSCOE:
(Now understanding he is Ben-Ben and laughing politely)
Well, you know I can't keep something like that all to myself, Kovac. I just had to tell someone and...
(looking around for a name, sees the word bus on the newspaper article)
...Bus here has quite a collection himself.
MR. KOVAC:
Is that so? Well, Bus, let me get some iced tea for us and you can tell me about your collection. Hee-Haw hasn't started yet, so we have some time to kill.
(Walks off)
ARTIE:
Bus? The best you could think of was Bus?
ROSCOE:
Sorry.
(STU comes back into the room with a can of Tab and a bowl of soup.)
ROSCOE:
(Sarcastically)
Make yourself at home, Webster.
STU:
Mother Kovac makes a mean split pea soup, boys. You ought to try some.
ARTIE:
(Whispering to ROSCOE)
We're not staying here all day. There's no way in hell I'm watching Hee-Haw.
(MR. KOVAC enters with a tray full of iced tea. Offers a glass to STU.)
MR. KOVAC:
Webster?
STU:
No thanks, Kovac old boy. I have my trusty Tab here. You know, Ben-Ben and I drank our share of Tab when we sailed around the cape. Kept us trim and ready for action, if you know what I mean.
MR. KOVAC:
(Offering an iced tea to ROSCOE. There is a porcelain monkey on the drink tray.)
Ben-Ben, I don't ever remember you telling me that you sailed.
ROSCOE:
Must have slipped my mind. You know how the old mind can just sort of misplace something now and then, eh Kovac?
(Kovac gives ROSCOE a vacant look)
Heh-heh, why just the other day I was telling Bus here...
STU:
Bus?
ARTIE:
(Gritting teeth and glaring at STU)
Bus.
MR. KOVAC:
Bus is certainly a peculiar name.
(Offering iced tea to ARTIE, who notices the porcelain monkey)
How did you get the name?
ARTIE:
(Looking at newspaper article hanging on wall)
I'll admit it is kind of an off-the-wall sort of name. Uh, Kovac. Did you know there is a porcelain monkey taped to your drink tray?
MR. KOVAC:
That's Professor Drinky Monkey. He lets me know when my company is thirsty.
(ROSCOE holds up remote control, which has a porcelain jack-ass taped to it. )
ROSCOE:
Who is this?
MR. KOVAC:
That's Admiral Jack Ass. He lets me know when Hee-Haw is on.
STU:
(Yelling in to kitchen)
Mother Kovac, love this soup!
MRS. KOVAC:
(Crashing sound)
God Dammit! I spilled the gravy!
STU:
Love that Mother Kovac.
MR. KOVAC:
(Holding remote to his ear and listening to Admiral Jack Ass.)
Oh my, thank you for reminding me. Everyone take a seat. It's time for Hee-Haw.
ARTIE:
(Whispering to ROSCOE)
I can't watch Hee-Haw.
ROSCOE:
I'm sure it will only last a few minutes. We can sneak out when Kovac isn't paying attention. Look at him.
(MR. KOVAC is on the edge of the ottoman, making Admiral Jack Ass dance to the opening music.)
ARTIE:
I can't watch Hee-Haw. It goes against everything I believe in.
STU:
Mother Kovac, get in here. You don't want to miss the opening act.
MR. KOVAC:
(Spinning around quickly to look at STU)
Mother doesn't come in here. Tell him Ben-Ben.
(MR. KOVAC spins back around, making Admiral Jack Ass dance again. ROSCOE shrugs his shoulders to show he has no idea.)
STU:
I have got to get the recipe for this split pea soup. My Babs would just gobble this up.
ROSCOE:
Babs?
ARTIE:
I can't watch Hee-Haw.
STU:
Mother Kovac, you're missing the...
MR. KOVAC:
(Spinning in his chair and pointing the remote at STU)
Silence!
STU:
But Mother...
MR. KOVAC:
Doesn't leave the kitchen!
STU:
I understand she spends a great deal of time in there but she...
MR. KOVAC:
Never!
STU:
Come now, old boy. She has to leave the kitchen sometime. I mean, when nature calls she has to...
MR. KOVAC:
Never!
STU:
Never?
MR. KOVAC:
Never!
STU:
Where does she go to the bath...
MR. KOVAC:
(shaking remote at soup to indicate she pees in the food)
Ahhhhh!
(MR. KOVAC spins back around and immediately starts smiling and bouncing up and down in front of the television.)
ARTIE:
(Whispering to ROSCOE)
Tell me how this is better than getting shot at by Kevin.
ROSCOE:
Give me a minute. Look at Kovac. He's practically in a trance. Just give him a little more time and then we can sneak out. See, he's totally locked into the show.
(slowly getting up from chair)
We can just quietly let ourselves...
MR. KOVAC:
(Violently spinning around and pointing remote at ROSCOE.)
Hee-Haw!
ROSCOE:
(Sitting down quickly)
Okay, maybe a little more time.
(Scene fades out and back in to find boys slumped in their chairs, still trapped in front of Hee-Haw.)
TELEVISION ANNOUNCER:
Stay tuned for another full hour of America's favorite country variety show, Hee-Haw! A special encore performance of the episode you just saw.
ARTIE:
How did they ever make it to the top of the food chain?
TELEVISION ANNOUNCER:
We'll be right back after these messages.
MR. KOVAC:
More Hee-Haw! Mr. Drinky Monkey, let's get everyone some more iced tea.
(Grabs tray and runs O.C.)
ARTIE:
Let's go!
STU:
But there's more Hee-Haw.
ARTIE:
Come on, Webster. Babs is waiting.
EXT: MR. KOVAC'S BACK YARD
ROSCOE:
Now what?
ARTIE:
We can't stay out in the open. Not until we know Kevin's status.
(KEVIN appears behind the boys in a tree, his toothy, Oreo-dappled grin appearing between the leaves as the barrel of the bb gun slowly appears.)
STU:
I'll bet that sissy brother of yours ran back home by now. I had just about all I was going to take. He's damn lucky I didn't kick his sorry...
(KEVIN fires, hitting STU in the butt)
Ahhhhh!
(Boys start scrambling as KEVIN opens fire. One shot hits the beaver lawn ornament, knocking it apart.)
ROSCOE:
He shot, Mother's beaver!
ARTIE:
Keep moving!
STU:
I hate being a kid. I want to be Webster again. Ow! This shit doesn't happen to grown-ups.
(ROSCOE notices a fissure in the hedgerow that borders Kovac's back yard and Davia's back yard, which can't be seen. All the boys start heading in the same direction, bb's ricocheting off lawn ornaments. ARTIE dives through first, followed by ROSCOE. STU brings up the rear, shouting as he dives through.)
STU:
I want to be a grown-up!
EXT: THE POOL PARTY AT DAVIA'S
ARTIE:
What just happened?
ROSCOE:
Where are we?
STU:
Are we dead?
(Boys look out into DAVIA'S back yard, which is where they are. Rats in swimsuits are milling about the pool. Pink lawn flamingoes are in the yard. Rats are playing croquet. Everyone is either drinking, smoking or both. Tom Jones' "It's Not Unusual" is playing on the stereo cart on the screened-in back porch. The boys stare for a moment and no one notices them. BILL RUTHERFORD is stirring a pitcher of Planters Punch and LORRAINE NORDSTROM is flirting with him, tugging at her swimsuit to tuck in any excess flesh.)
ROSCOE:
Do you know where we are?
STU:
Hell?
ARTIE:
STU, your mom.
(MAGGIE, STU'S mom, and ARLENE BAKER are both wearing identical black one-piece swimsuits decorated with tiny red hearts on the backside and one large heart over each breast. MAGGIE is wearing a blue inflatable hippo float toy around her waist. The hippo looks cross-eyed, as if it is repressing a bad case of gas. The women, who are obviously buzzed, seem happy to see the boys.)
MAGGIE:
Well hello, darling
(MAGGIE kisses STU on the lips, who is not expecting such affection from his mother, especially in front of his friends. He is mortified.)
INT: ARTIE'S TRIPLETS' BEDROOM
STU:
(Adult STU, back in triplets' bedroom)
Oh for crying out loud! Don't tell them that kind of...
TRIPLET:
Zip it, clown!
(STU rolls his eyes in disbelief)
EXT: DAVIA'S BACK YARD
MAGGIE:
You were playing in the ravine with Kevin again, weren't you?
STU:
No we were...
MAGGIE:
I know you were down there because you're covered in those tiny red welts again. Every time you boys play down there with Kevin you come back with those little red welts all over you. Is he letting you play in the poison sumac?
ARLENE:
(Taking a drag off her cigarette and shaking her head)
Maggie, I don't think there's any poison sumac down there.
MAGGIE:
Well whatever it is, I wonder if it's the reason Stu keeps wetting the bed.
STU:
Oh my...
INT: ARTIE'S TRIPLETS' BEDROOM
STU:
(Older STU in ARTIE's house)
...God! What are you telling them that for?
(Triplets are giggling at STU as he stammers)
I can't be... You shouldn't ev... You put that in the... Oh my God!
(Walks out of room)
EXT: DAVIA'S BACK YARD
MAGGIE:
Was your Roger a bed-wetter?
ARLENE:
He had a little bout with coprophilia, but he outgrew it. How often does STU pee-pee his bed?
MAGGIE:
Let's see. Tuesday night I went in to check on him...
STU:
Mom!
MAGGIE:
And sure enough he was tinkling like a drinking fountain. Sound asleep and soaking wet.
STU:
Mom!
(BILL RUTHERFORD sneaks up behind MAGGIE and ARLENE and presses the cold pitcher of Planter's Punch onto ARLENE'S back. She lets out a scream and dives into MAGGIE. The two of them fall down, the blue hippo lets out a little squeak, and then it explodes, withering around MAGGIE'S waist with a farting sound. The two women fall into hysterics.)
BILL:
Score another for the lounge lizard.
(BILL licks his chops with a long reptilian tongue and then saunters off to the pool cart, leaving ROSCOE, STU and ARTIE standing there in shock.)
EARL (O.C.):
You there.
(The boys look over to see EARL DAVIA, an obese rat reclining in a canvas lounge chair. There is a giant, mushroom-shaped umbrella over him. The lounge chair has two built-in glass holders, both of which are holding a drink for EARL. There is an ashtray on a bright blue spike driven into the ground next to the chair. EARL is blowing smoke rings up into the umbrella as he speaks slowly.)
EARL:
Who are you?
STU:
I think I'm gonna pee.
ROSCOE:
Should we go over and talk to him?
ARTIE:
I think we have to. I guess it's better than dealing with Kevin.
STU:
I'm not so sure about that.
(Boys slowly walk over to EARL, who catches sight of Bill pretending to snap at flies with his tongue in an attempt to impress MRS. NORDSTROM.)
EARL:
A truly disgusting rat if ever I knew one.
(Reaches into one of his drinks, pulls out an ice cube and whips it at BILL, hitting him squarely on the snout. MRS. NORDSTROM, ARLENE and MAGGIE, who is still wearing the withered hippo around her waist, laugh hysterically when the ice cube hits him.)
EARL:
Bill, my good man. Get these gentlemen a scotch and soda. And bring me a fresh pack of Pall Malls.
(Bill runs off)
Gentlemen, my name is Earl Zachary Davia, and this is my party. Welcome.
ARTIE:
Umh, thanks.
EARL:
What brings you here today?
ROSCOE:
We were getting shot at.
ARTIE:
Kevin still had seven or eight more Oreo cookies.
STU:
I have to pee.
EARL:
All perfectly acceptable reasons to join us today.
(BILL brings tray of drinks. EARL takes cigarette pack and nods to the boys to each take a drink. EARL lights up his cigarette and then passes the pack to the boys, who each reluctantly take one. STU puts it in his mouth backwards and EARL reaches up to fix it. EARL lights all the cigarettes and the boys just stand there, with drinks in their hands and lit cigarettes dangling from their mouths. As each one speaks, the cigarette bounces up and down.)
ROSCOE:
Artie?
ARTIE:
Yeah?
ROSCOE:
We're ten years old.
ARTIE:
Yeah.
ROSCOE:
We have cocktails and cigarettes.
ARTIE:
Yeah.
ROSCOE:
What's happening?
ARTIE:
I have no idea.
STU:
Are we dead?
ARTIE:
You already asked that.
STU:
Nobody answered me.
ROSCOE:
We might be.
STU:
How come I still have to pee?
ARTIE:
I don't know. I've never been dead before.
STU:
What do we do with these drinks?
(ROSCOE holds up his glass to look at it and sees a sweaty little note on the glass that says, Drink Me.)
ROSCOE:
I think we're supposed to drink them.
STU:
If I do I'll pee all over myself.
ARTIE:
Roscoe?
(ROSCOE looks at EARL, who looks at them and tips his glass. ROSCOE shrugs and takes the cigarette out of his mouth. He takes a drink. ARTIE and STU follow suit. All three wait for a second and then put their cigarettes back in their mouth. They look at each other carefully.)
STU:
Do you feel anything?
ARTIE:
My stomach is kind of warm.
ROSCOE:
I think we need to take another sip.
(They drink again)
STU:
(Takes an actual drag off the cigarette)
You know, that's not bad. What do we do now?
ARTIE:
(Also taking a drag off the cigarette)
I think it's time we mingle, boys.
(Frank Sinatra song cues up loud and strong. Boys saunter into the party and we have scenes of them flirting with the women, playing croquet, sitting under EARL'S umbrella blowing smoke rings.)
INT: EARL'S CHAIR
(Boys are back around EARL'S chair, noticeably buzzed.)
EARL:
Look at those rubes over there.
(Motions to MAGGIE and ARLENE, who are getting their nails painted by LYLA)
STU:
One of those rubes is my mom.
ROSCOE:
What's a rube?
ARTIE:
I have no idea.
EARL:
Lyla, my wife there...
STU:
(Whistling and interrupting)
Boy oh boy, she's a real rube, that one is.
(Puffs on cigarette and nods. Everyone stares at him)
What?
EARL:
Lyla is the neighborhood Avon Lady. There's quite a bit of notoriety that comes along with that position. Of course I don't need to point that out to gentlemen of your standing.
Those lackeys there will acquiesce to any of Lyla's atrocious suggestions. She could recommend painting fingernails with goat shit and her customers would say thank you, cut a check for $17.50 and then come back two days later to shell out another twenty for a new goat shit applicator that brings out the natural fecal sheen.
ARTIE:
Your wife sells shit?
ROSCOE:
To rubes and lackeys?
STU:
(Digging in cigarette pack)
Smoky, smoky. Hey Earl, we need more grits.
(STU wanders over to pool to get more cigarettes and bumps into MRS. NORDSTROM. The two begin flirting.)
EARL:
This afternoon's events are about to take a turn for the bawdy, my friends.
ROSCOE:
(To ARTIE)
Bawdy?
ARTIE:
Don't know. Maybe it's like lackey.
EARL:
Observe the empty bottle of Johnnie Walker Red on the pool cart.
ROSCOE:
Yeah.
EARL:
And the keg sputtering foam.
(Bill is trying to fill a pitcher from empty keg. In desperation he begins licking the tapper)
ARTIE:
Yes.
EARL:
Mrs. Nordstrom and your friend.
(STU is making out with MRS. NORDSTROM while the song "Mrs. Robinson" plays loudly)
ROSCOE:
Oh my god.
EARL:
It won't be long now.
ARTIE:
Before what?
EARL:
Before the queen makes her demand and her loyal court follows suit. Here we go.
LYLA:
(Smoking a cigarette and drinking a martini, she walks behind someone and kicks them into the pool. Everyone laughs and cheers)
Off with their clothes!
(Shot cuts back to ROSCOE and ARTIE, staring in disbelief. One of the heart-covered swimsuits flies into the scene and hits ARTIE in the face.
ARTIE:
(Pulling suit off his face)
I'd better get Stu before he does something stupid.
EARL:
(As STU'S shorts fly over their heads)
Too late.
ARTIE:
Then I'd better get Stu before he vomits on somebody.
(Screams of disgust can be heard)
ROSCOE:
Too late.
ARTIE:
I'd just better get Stu.
(Runs toward pool)
INT: ARTIE'S TRIPLETS' BEDROOM
Adult ARTIE sitting next to his triplets' bed, finishing up the story.
ARTIE:
And after we found Stu's shorts we went home to sleep off the alcohol. Fortunately for Stu, he didn't remember skinny-dipping with his mother. The end.
(Looks up to see triplets are sound asleep)
How long have they been asleep?
ROSCOE:
Just after Stu stormed out of here in shame.
ARTIE:
You didn't have to wait until I finished.
ROSCOE:
That's okay. It's been a long time since I thought about that day. It was nice to hear about it, in a disturbing sort of way.
ARTIE:
(Tucking in kids)
You know, in all the commotion that day, I never did see you leave the party.
ROSCOE:
I took off right after Stu threw up on Bill Rutherford.
ARTIE:
Didn't want to hang out for more of Earl's advice?
ROSCOE:
Something like that.
EXT: DAVIA'S BACK YARD
(ROSCOE is alone with EARL, still seated in his chair.)
EARL:
(Looking over his party)
They all want the same thing. We all do, really. We all want to stand out from one another. To be recognized for being unique and special and talented. For being ahead of the curve. But we're too scared to go it alone, so we huddle together in little masses, numb ourselves stupid and try to stand out together. That way, we don't look nearly as ridiculous when things don't work out for us. But of course, then we don't really end up standing out at all, no matter what the outcome, now do we? We end up just like everyone else, only now we have a little less money in our pocket and a little less identity in our souls. It's a curious circle, really. And the harder we try, the curiouser and curiouser it gets.
(Takes a sip from his drink)
What do you do for a living, friend?
ROSCOE:
I'm a kid.
EARL:
Do you enjoy that line of work?
ROSCOE:
Pretty much.
EARL:
I had that job for a few years. Gave it up for all this. Sometimes I wonder if I made the right career move.
ROSCOE:
Can't you just change your mind?
EARL:
And go back? No, I don't believe I can. Don't know if I'd be any good at it anymore. What about your friends over there? Are they in the same line of work?
ROSCOE:
More or less.
EARL:
From the looks of it I think they are entertaining other offers. That one there...
(Indicating STU)
...is he in therapy?
ROSCOE:
I don't think so.
EARL:
He will be. And what about that one?
(Indicating ARTIE)
He strikes me as a get-it-done kind of fellow.
ROSCOE:
Pretty much.
EARL:
I suggest you hang onto your post, my friend. Being a kid is good work if you can get it.
(ROSCOE watches the action for a moment, and then he wanders back through the fissure.)
EARL:
Bill, more Pall Malls. Put your clothes back on first.
(ROSCOE crawls back through the fissure in the hedge and finds KEVIN, asleep and drooling next to the leprechaun lawn ornament. Several candy bar wrappers are strewn about. ROSCOE walks off alone.)
INT: ARTIE'S TRIPLETS' BEDROOM
ARTIE:
(Leaving bedroom)
We'd better go find Stu. He's probably sulking in the living room. Should I tell him the kids didn't hear all the gory details about his childhood?
ROSCOE:
Nah. Let him go on thinking you're an unfit parent. Let's go to the game.
(Glances back at triplets. Lights go off in bedroom)
END OF SHOW
