print this page

Shooting Scripts

Episode 11 - Life of Brian

Written by
Jason Katims


We PAN across a messy room: paperbacks, clothes strewn everywhere, boyhood
knickknacks. We hear BRIAN’S MOM.

BRIAN’S MOM (V.O.): Brian honey!

We reach a TRIPOD with a camera aimed out the window and follow it until we
reach Brian, staring through the lens.

BRIAN’S MOM (V.O.): Are you ignoring me sweetheart? If you are, it’s okay.
Just tell me.

BRIAN’S VOICE: My mother’s a behavioral psychologist.

As we ZOOM slowly towards Brian’s face, we hear BRIAN’S DAD.

BRIAN’S DAD (V.O.): Bernice, if you left him alone, maybe he’d break out of
this prolonged latency.

BRIAN’S VOICE: And my father’s a Freudian psychiatrist.

BRIAN’S MOM (V.O.): Our child is not in latency!

BRIAN’S DAD (V.O.): Keep living in denial, Bernice.

BRIAN’S VOICE: Which basically means that they fundamentally disagree with
each other. On like everything.

Brian still looks through the camera. His free eye widens.


A WINDOW with slightly parted curtains. ANGELA is momentarily visible as
she passes.


Brian blinks away. That’s what he had been waiting for.

BRIAN’S DAD (V.O.): Bri? Everything alright?

BRIAN’S MOM (V.O.): Feel free not to respond.

BRIAN’S VOICE (staring out his window): At Angela’s house they probably
like *laugh*. And eat unbalanced meals. And talk about things that don’t
have deep, symbolic, *meaning*. They’re probably this like normal family.



Danielle screams at the top of her lungs as Patty runs a brush through her
hair. Graham searches through the piles of junk.


PATTY: Well, it’s tangled!

GRAHAM (searching): Where the hell is it?

PATTY: Look, I can’t do braids in the basement.

DANIELLE (muttering, annoyed): I’ll do my braids myself.

Danielle takes the brush and heads upstairs. Patty goes to the pile of
junk and immediately finds a roll of wallpaper. She smiles at Graham:

PATTY: Is this actually happening? Are you actually going to wallpaper the

GRAHAM: What’s the big deal?

PATTY: Only that wallpaper sat there through the entire Bush administration.

GRAHAM: I just figured since I’m not working right now... You know, it’ll
keep me off the streets.

PATTY: So... you feel okay about...? I mean, you’ve done this before. Right?

GRAHAM (curt): Patty, I can wallpaper a room.

PATTY: Right. I’m sorry. This is really great.


Brian walks alone through the CROWDED HALLWAY. He camouflages himself
behind a doorway and lifts his camera.

BRIAN’S VOICE: The problem with life? Is that it’s so *obvious*.

POV THROUGH CAMERA: HOLLY GALANOY, attractive, flirts shamelessly with
KYLE. We zoom in on Holly, moving down her body, lingering on her bare legs.

BRIAN’S VOICE (cont’d): For instance, the fact that the really hot girls
automatically *adhere* themselves to poor scholastic achievers.

SHARON approaches from down the hall with two GIRLS. They hold a stack of
oak tag POSTERS. She sees Kyle with Holly and heads past them, obviously
hurt. Brian and Sharon exchange a look just as Sharon rounds a corner.
Brian follows her out of frame.


Sharon checks that the poster she just hung isn’t crooked. Brian steps up.
After a beat...


BRIAN’S VOICE: I just saw what happened. And I just want to say that if it
would help to voice your feelings. I’m here.

BRIAN: So... Ya get dumped?

SHARON: Wipe that smirk off your face, Krakow.

And she storms away. Brian reads the poster: “WORLD HAPPINESS DANCE: Come
one, come all and *DANCE* in a support of WORLDWIDE HAPPINESS!”

BRIAN’S VOICE: School dances are a *plot*. To destroy what’s left of your
self esteem. I mean...

Suddenly Brian stops, mid-thought seeing ANGELA approach. He continues to
read the poster with studied intensity. She stops to read it.

BRIAN: Hate to tell you, Chase. But your hair’s like *faded*.

ANGELA: Shut up, Krakow.

BRIAN: But maybe you want it that way. Maybe you’ve like tired of that fast
lane. Red hair, wild parties, leather *whips*.

ANGELA: In your dreams.

BRIAN’S VOICE: Okay, stop picturing her with a leather whip. Like

RAYANNE (O.S.): Angel Food! Where have you been *hiding*?! It’s been

Rayanne and Rickie walk up; Brian is less than thrilled.

RAYANNE: So, Krakow, trying to score some big points with Angela?

BRIAN: Oh, that is like *so* accurate.

BRIAN’S VOICE: The most challenging part of talking to Rayanne Graff is
trying not to stare. At certain parts of her.

Rayanne grabs Angela and whispers something. They both dissolve into
giggles. Then Rayanne looks back to Rickie and the three of them start to
walk off. Brian watches them go, his expression souring.


STUDENTS and the SCIENCE TEACHER file out of the classroom leaving Angela,
the week’s monitor, to put things away. Rayanne and Rickie walk in,
mid-conversation. Rickie walks up to a model of a brain and stares at it.

RAYANNE: I mean, *World Happiness*. Who thought of that?!

ANGELA: Sounds like Sharon.

RICKIE: Definitely Sharon.

ANGELA: So, are you like going?

RAYANNE (starting to draw on the blackboard): What!?

ANGELA: I know. I just thought in this like really *obvious* way? It
could be sort of... fun.

RAYANNE (realizing): Angela, if you’re expecting Jordan Catalano to ask you...

ANGELA: What?!

RICKIE: Maybe she just wants. To like *dance*.

ANGELA: Exactly! (a beat) Wait. So there’s like no way?

RAYANNE: Jordan Catalano doesn’t like go to school dances. As like policy.

ANGELA: Right. I sort of figured, so...

RAYANNE: I mean, if you wanted to go, which of course you don’t, you could
let Brian Krakow ask you.

ANGELA: Excuse me, but then I’d be like at the dance with *Brian Krakow*.

COREY (O.S.): So... excuse me?

They look up; Corey stands in the doorway: funky hat and glasses
HANDPAINTED SNEAKERS. He’ll wind up at F.I.T. but hasn’t heard of it yet.
He smiles. Rickie looks at Corey, shy, but obviously intrigued.

RAYANNE: Can we like *help* you?

COREY: I was just... Is Ms. Chavatal around?

RAYANNE: Do you like *see* Ms. Chavatal?

Corey nods at Rayanne, matching her cool. Then his eyes move to Rickie.
Rickie is visibly affected by his gaze.

COREY (to Rickie): Cool vest.

Corey walks off. We stay on Rickie, his eyes frozen where Corey just was,
taking in what happened.


Brian focuses his camera on Sharon who talks to DELIA FISHER, intelligent,
outgoing, a bit of an outsider.

BRIAN’S VOICE: I became yearbook photographer because I liked the idea that
I could sort of watch life without having to be part of it. Which when you
think about it? Is a really upsetting idea.

POV THROUGH CAMERA: Moving from Sharon to Delia, then close on Delia’s
warm, expressive face. Suddenly, Delia stares right at us. She starts
towards us! Our view jolts away from Delia and becomes completely out of

Brian *petrified*, holds his camera guiltily at his side as Delia and
Sharon walk up.

BRIAN (defensive): I’m yearbook photographer; this is my job!

SHARON: Brian, I wanted to introduce you to Delia. She’s new.

DELIA (smiling at him): Hi!

BRIAN’S VOICE (attempts at suave): Hi... Hi... Hi...

BRIAN (lamely): Um... Hi.

DELIA: So... It’s really nice meeting you.

BRIAN: Oh. Yeah...

Delia continues to smile, maybe even significantly. He stares back at her.
After he doesn’t say anything:

DELIA: Maybe I’ll see you around.

And she walks off. Brian watches her go.

SHARON: Nice, Krakow. Real, suave.

BRIAN: What?

SHARON: Well, it was pretty obvious what she was thinking.

BRIAN: What?

SHARON: Wake up! What do you want her to do, scream it at the top of her

BRIAN: Wait. So you’re saying... What are you saying?

SHARON: I’m saying she likes you. Ask her to the dance.

BRIAN: Hold on. Wait. You mean this World Happiness thing?

SHARON: It is not a *thing*. It’s a dance. Which I am trying to make
into a great dance. Which is like almost impossible since apparently the
idea of *school spirit* is like *out* the *window*.

BRIAN: So getting back to this Delia thing.

SHARON: She’s working at Big Guy Burger tonight from three-thirty ‘til eight.
BRIAN: Wait. Did she actually say anything?
SHARON: Let’s just say, it was very clearly implied.

Sharon walks off. Brian stands there, taking this in.


Brian lays on his bed staring up at the ceiling.

BRIAN’S VOICE: What’s always amazed me? Is fishermen. How they wait there
forever and when something finally tugs on their line? They like don’t
*panic*. (sitting up) The strange thing is since I’ve established verbal
communication with Delia Fisher, I still think about Angela. Constantly.
God, that inane *leather whip* remark. I truly sicken myself. I just have
to stop being her little puppet. I vow to never again show up at Angela’s
door with some lame excuse.


Graham opens the door, Brian is there. Graham’s hands are full with
wallpapering equipment.

BRIAN: Hi! I mean, hello. Um... I sort of lent this Atlas to Angela?
Which she was technically supposed to return. Like in March.

GRAHAM: Oh. She isn’t here now...

Graham drops a brush. He goes down to reach for it and drops something
else. He looks to Brian who just stands there.

GRAHAM (cont’d): Could you just--?

BRIAN: Oh... Right!

Brian picks up the fallen items and follows Graham as they begin to head up
the stairs.

BRIAN (cont’d): So. Putting up wallpaper? (Graham turns to him, intrigued)
I hate it when you get those air bubbles.

GRAHAM (looks at Brian in a new way): You’ve done this?


Brian expertly brushes glue onto a sheet of wallpaper. Graham and Brian
carefully line it up to the adjacent sheet of wallpaper and burnish it to
the wall.

BRIAN: Wait. The morning-glories aren’t lined up. In my room on seam is a
little off. And I stare at it. Constantly. It’s like destroying me.

Graham looks at Brian. Brian looks at Graham, doesn’t know quite how to
get into this:

BRIAN (cont’d): So... You’re like... What. Retired? I mean, not *retired*.

GRAHAM: I’m sort of planning what to do next. I don’t want to jump blindly
into something. Of course you know, on the other hand... (beat) I mean,
it’s sort of like... wallpaper.

BRIAN: (beat) Wow.

GRAHAM: I mean there’s hundreds of patterns out there. So it’s kind of
daunting. Because you’re going to have to live with your decision for a
long time.

Brian nods, this all hits him on a very personal level.

BRIAN: Let’s say you’re deciding between two particular patterns? One of
them you definitely know that you *really* like. Like a lot. And the
other one? Is nice wallpaper and all. But you’re not sure it’s *really*...

GRAHAM: For you?

BRIAN: *Exactly*. But the really *great* wallpaper? Let’s say is like
totally out of your price range. So... do you take the *other* wallpaper
even though you don’t let’s say really *desire* it? That much? Or do you
wait until the really *great* wallpaper is like *cheaper*?

GRAHAM: Well, I guess it depends on how badly you need wallpaper?

BRIAN: I would say pretty badly.

GRAHAM: Well... I guess that says it.

Brian nods intensely, taking this in. Then deadly serious:

BRIAN: Yeah.


Delia is up front taking orders. Brian gets in line and watches Delia
smile, as she waits on the GUY in front.

BRIAN’S VOICE: I can’t believe this. Apparently, Delia Fisher smiles at
*everyone*. She probably comes from one of those small towns where
everyone’s friendly and smiles at you for no reason. I hate that type of

Brian steps to the front of the line.

DELIA: Welcome to Big Guy Burger where every guy’s a Big Guy. (looking up)
Oh, hi.

BRIAN: Hi! Um, I was just... you know happened to be in the neighborhood,
and so...

BRIAN’S VOICE: ... So I thought I’d just say the lamest thing ever verbalized.

DELIA (impersonal): What can I get for you?

BRIAN: Oh. Just a Hunk Burger.

DELIA: Big Guy Oversized Fries? Macho Shake?

BRIAN: Just the burger.

DELIA: Will that be for here or to go?

BRIAN: Oh. Um. I guess to go. I just... you know, should probably go.

Brian looks at her significantly. She rings up the register.

DELIA: That’s $3.49.

Brian smiles, defeated.


Brian gets his bicycle unlocked.

BRIAN’S VOICE: There’s something about my life. It’s just automatically
true that nothing actually happens. Ever.

He dejectedly tosses his burger into a garbage can.

DELIA (O.S.): Not hungry after all?

Brian swings around. It’s Delia.

BRIAN: Oh. I was told not to eat red meat by my, um, doctor... So...

DELIA: Sorry about being so *standard* in there. My manager like *watches*

BRIAN: Oh, right.

DELIA: I’m glad you came.

She smiles and slowly approaches him. He stiffens.

BRIAN’S VOICE: Somewhere far away there was a car alarm. One of those
really annoying ones? That make it seem like the entire universe is

Delia holds out her sode, offering it to Brian.

DELIA: Wanna sip?

BRIAN’S VOICE: But suddenly. It was the best sound I’d ever heard.

Brian silently nods. He puts his hand to the cup, and Delia allows her
hand to linger for a slight beat. For a brief moment, some of Delia’s
fingers, touch some of Brian’s. This is not lost on Brian.

BRIAN: So... I guess I should. Go or something.

DELIA: Me too.

Delia slowly backs away, toward the restaurant. Brian watches until she
disappears within. A smile emerges.

BRIAN’S VOICE: So maybe this is what people mean. When they talk about.
You know. Life.





Sharon is at her locker, Kyle stands nearby.

SHARON: So are you going to ask me to the dance? Or what.

KYLE: I was going to... *Eventually*.

SHARON: Oh. So you just haven’t gotten around to it?

KYLE: Exactly.

SHARON (slams her locker shut, looks at him): Look. *Kyle*. I’m under a
ton of *pressure*, alright? The dance committee, student council,
yearbook, *band*. I don’t have time to worry about being *alone* at the
very dance I *organized*.

KYLE: Fine! Do you want to go to the dance?

SHARON (beat, ultra-serious): Yes. And if you screw this up? I’ll
*really* hate you. Like forever.

Kyle looks at Sharon, terrified.


Brian walks along. Suddenly, his eyes register alarm, as

BRIAN’S POV: Delia stands at the other end of the crowded hallway, looking
toward Brian.

BRIAN’S VOICE: How ridiculous my life is. Constantly trying to ace some
test, so I could get some grade, so I could get into some college, so I
could end up as some stupid professional and basically *recreate* my
father. Why am I like this! I have to ask Delia Fisher to the dance. I
have to.

But Brian doesn’t do anything. Delia, giving up on Brian, gives a slight
shrug and walks out of frame. Brian just watches her go.


Sharon whites out sarcastic GRAFFITI inked onto a dance poster. Angela
enters. Sharon hides the white out, smiles.

ANGELA: So... the World Happiness Dance. You thought of that, right?

SHARON (that last straw): You’re not going.

ANGELA: I sort of can’t. It’s just like Rayanne and Rickie... (catching
herself) Well, it’s just not the kind of thing I’m really into anymore. I
mean, I’m sure it’ll be great and everything.

SHARON: Oh, it’ll be fantastic! (then, vulnerable) No one’s going. No one!
I can’t believe how totally *casual* everyone’s acting. Like they could
go or not go. Like I’m doing this all for my *health* or something!

ANGELA: I’m sure a lot of people will end up going. That’s the way these
things always happen.

SHARON: Yeah, right.

ANGELA: No, really. People, you know, couple off. Pretty soon everyone
will be going.

SHARON (encouraged): Really?

ANGELA: Yeah. Just watch. I’ll probably be the only person who ends up
not going.

This idea sinks in on Angela.


Rickie sits waiting outside a door that reads “MS. KRZYZANOWSKI--
GUIDANCE.” He looks out at the hallway to:

RICKIE’S POV: Through a maze of kids’ sneakers, COREY’S SNEAKERS come into
view. We pan up, looking for Corey, but instead find Brian tentatively
walking up.

BRIAN: Hey. What’s going on?

RICKIE: Not much.

Brian notices a poster for the Happiness dance.

BRIAN: So... You going to the dance?

RICKIE: Doubtful... You?

BRIAN: I would kind of have to say, at this point? No.

Pause. Brian and Rickie would both maybe like to talk about this, but both
can’t really figure a way into it. Finally, Brian just walks away.

Rickie looks back to where he spotted Corey’s shoes. No sign of Corey.

Suddenly, Rayanne bursts out of the guidance office with a big smile and a
rush of energy.

RAYANNE: Guidance is so *weird*!


Rayanne moves at a pace; Rickie keeps up with her.

RAYANNE: She looked at me all *concerned* wanting to know if I was planning
to go to the dance. Like that wasn’t the stupidest question in history.
So I like broke down and cried. It was hysterical.

RICKIE: But like, how’s it going? I mean, how are you doing?

RAYANNE: Ten days: no drink, no drugs. I’m so clean you could eat off me.

Rickie suddenly stops. Rayanne follows his gaze to: COREY who sits on
stairway steps, carefully painting his sneakers with oil paints.

RICKIE: So you know that girl, Pam Troy?

RAYANNE: The one with the really bad perm?

RICKIE: No, the one with the diamond stud in her nose?

RAYANNE: Oh. Who always wears crop tops? Who broke down and cried that
time in Human Sexuality?

RICKIE: Right.

RAYANNE: Yeah, I know her. So what.

RICKIE: So I was thinking of asking her. You know to the dance.


RICKIE: Yeah, I know you think the dance is really stupid, but...

RAYANNE (indicates Corey): No, I mean why don’t you ask him?

RICKIE (stunned): Shut up.

RAYANNE: Well, isn’t that who you really want to go with?

RICKIE: *Shush*!

RAYANNE (whispers): Well, isn’t it?

RICKIE (whispers): Well... Yeah, in some imaginary universe that exists
like in my *mind*, but...

RAYANNE: (beat) Just leave this to me.

Rickie turns to Rayanne.

RICKIE (with intensity): Rayanne, if you say one word to him, I will *kill*


The room is a mess. Graham struggles to hang a sheet of wallpaper, paying
attention to the seams. Patty enters.

PATTY: Hi! -- (breaking off, re:wallpaper) Are those morning glories not
lining up? You know, if it’s just the slightest bit off, that’s all you
ever notice. (seeing something else) Ooh. Is that a bubble?

She tries to rub it out with her finger. Graham’s put off.

GRAHAM: Patty, I tried every conceivable way to get rid of that bubble.
It’s there forever. It’s a part of our lives. It’ll outlive us all.

PATTY: So I dropped off that brochure I did for the University with their
precious perforations. Thank God that job is finally out of my life.
(throws this away) Oh, while I was there I picked up a Continuing Ed bulletin.

Patty hands him a COLLEGE BULLETIN and begins to work on the bubble in
earnest. Graham opens the bulletin to a marked page.

GRAHAM: Why did you circle all these cooking classes?

PATTY: Well, why do you think? I mean, isn’t it what you always talked about?

GRAHAM: This is some adult ed workshop. What I talked about was going full
time to a culinary institute--

PATTY: Which we can’t afford...

GRAHAM (overlapping): Which we can’t afford. I know.

PATTY: But this we *can* afford. So why are you closing your mind? (beat,
then positively) Will you just think about it?


PATTY: Great. I um, I put stars next to the good classes.

Patty shows Graham she got rid of the bubble. Graham smiles, annoyed.

PATTY (cont’d): Just needs a little pressure.


School’s letting out. We FIND Corey and Rayanne talking. Rayanne leans
over as if to take off her sneaker.

COREY: Don’t take them off.

RAYANNE: What, you like paint them while I’m wearing them?

COREY: What I do? It’s not just about sneakers. It’s about feet. (he
smiles) Come on. I’ve got my acrylics in the art room.

They start walking down the hall.

RAYANNE: Listen, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.


KIDS flee through the main entrance. Angela emerges.

Through the crowd she sees Jordan at the corner leaning against his car.
She hesitantly approaches.



ANGELA: So did you hear about that *thing*? That they’re going to like
*exterminate* fourth period lunch?

JORDAN: I didn’t hear that.

ANGELA: Oh, it’s just something some people are *obsessing* about. I mean,
sometimes? People let all these stupid things *fill* their minds, you
know? To keep from thinking about what’s you know *really* important.


ANGELA: Like this *World Happiness* Dance? I mean, it’s so *stupid*. What
does that even *mean*? Like if we dance the world is really going to get
happier? I mean, really. Come on. I don’t think so.

JORDAN (beat): There’s a dance?

ANGELA: Yeah! You know, there’s, um, like five hundred posters up around
school about it.

JORDAN: Oh... Right.

Silence. Angela looks at Jordan, who seems comfortable never talking again
for the remainder of his life.

ANGELA: I guess I kinda mean that the *idea* of the dance is kinda...
false. I mean, I doubt I’m even going. I’m sure you’re obviously not
going. Right?

JORDAN: See, I have this philosophy. And the philosophy is? That I don’t
make plans.

ANGELA (stunned, impressed): You have a philosophy?

JORDAN: If I go somewhere and someone I know is there. Then cool.
There’s something... natural about it. But once you start making *plans*,
then you have like *obligations*. Which basically blows. So my feeling
is? Whatever happens? Happens.

ANGELA (nodding): I have to say. I really respect that.

Jordan hops into his car. Angela looks at him, waits a beat, wondering if
he’s going to offer her a ride. He says nothing.

ANGELA (cont’d): Oh, I can’t... I left my Geometry book in my locker, so...

Jordan drives off, leaving Angela with a forced smile plastered to her face.


A few stragglers are left. Brian walks along and stops dead in his tracks
as he looks into:


Delia sits at a lab table looking into a microscope. Brian watches her.
He looks like he’s about to say something, but doesn’t. Finally, he just
starts to walk off, but Delia looks up. Seeing him, her expression brightens.


BRIAN (falsely casual): Oh! Hi!

DELIA: I’ve been looking for you all day.

Brian takes a couple of baby steps into the room.

BRIAN: I’ve been like really busy. I’m like carrying a triple minor and...

DELIA: I didn’t know you could have a triple minor.

BRIAN: They sort of bent the rules for me so...

BRIAN’S VOICE: Shut up! Shut up! I *beg* of myself!

Delia looks back into the microscope. Brian takes this as a cue, and
starts to edge back toward the door, but she looks up again.

DELIA: So. Could you like help me? Ms. Chavatal wants me to catch up with
the unit? You know, since I just transferred here? And I like have no
idea what I’m even looking at.

Brian hesitantly walks over to the microscope. She stands close beside him
as he looks into the lens.

BRIAN: Oh. Simple. They’re just paramecia.

DELIA: Oh! Can I look?

Delia, softly grabbing hold of Brian’s arm, leans in to look through the
lens. They’re very close. We move in on Brian’s face, his eyes widening.

BRIAN’S VOICE: Finally. And erection from actual physical contact.

DELIA: What are those little hairy things around the edge?

BRIAN: Those are cilia. They like propel the paramecia.

DELIA: God, you are really a life saver.

Delia looks into the lens again. Brian is just growing comfortable with
this closeness when he glances out to the doorway:

BRIAN’S POV: ANGELA stands in the doorway looking at Brian and Delia, with
a surprised, maybe even hurt expression on her face. Without saying
anything, she turns and walks out of frame.

Brian continues to look out at the empty hallway, completely perplexed.





Brian and Graham struggle to hang a difficultly placed sheet of wallpaper.
Graham is exhausted, determined. The room looks like a hurricane hit it.

BRIAN: So remember when we were discussing wallpaper?

GRAHAM (focused on the job): Okay... lower. A little lower...

BRIAN: It’s just so weird when you have *chosen* your wallpaper? And you
think you’re like pretty happy with it? But then every time you pass by
that other wallpaper? You know, that you sort of like more...?

Patty enters, does a double take seeing the bedlam.

PATTY: Hi! Brian!

BRIAN (edging toward door): Hi! I was just--

PATTY (to Graham, throwing it away): So did you get a chance to look at
that bulletin?

GRAHAM: Not yet.

PATTY: Tomorrow’s the last day to register. (beat) Why are you waiting? I
mean, I thought you planned to do this.

GRAHAM: At this point. The way things are right now? It doesn’t feel
right to make plans. I just rather let whatever happens, happen.

Beat. Then Patty turns to Brian.

PATTY (upbeat): Brian, why don’t you get yourself something to drink?

BRIAN: Why?... Oh. Okay. Thanks! I mean, yeah...

Brian awkwardly slips out of the room. Patty fruitlessly attempts to
straighten up.


PATTY: Graham this is a real opportunity! There are very important chefs
running some of those classes!

GRAHAM: Oh, sure. Like who?

PATTY: Steffan Dieter.


PATTY: You know. That *guy*. From that show “Steffan’s Kitchen.”

GRAHAM: That guy died.

PATTY: He did not die.

GRAHAM: Are you sure?

PATTY: Graham, he’s *obviously* alive. He’s teaching Stocks, Soups and

GRAHAM: Patty. Look. I appreciate your trying to help. But how can I say
this? You aren’t. Helping.

PATTY (tremendously upset): I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep here. I
think I’m going to sleep downstairs.

Patty exits with the bedding. Graham tries to hang the sheet of wallpaper
but it tears. Frustrated, he rips it off the wall. He sits down looking
around the room, defeated.


Delia catches Brian and they walk down the hallway. They both hold BROWN


BRIAN: Oh... Hi.

DELIA: Are you eating out on the steps?

BRIAN: Um... yeah. I mean, I didn’t have anything really planned so...

DELIA: Great! I brought dessert.



Brian and Delia emerge through the door and walk down the steps.

DELIA: So. Have you thought about the dance?

BRIAN: Oh. Not much. You?

DELIA: It’s just if I’m *not* going to work Saturday? I have to like
switch with someone, right away.

BRIAN: I see.

DELIA: So... I mean, if I’m going to go? I would need to know. Like now.

BRIAN: That’s... yeah. Hm.

Brian comes to an awkward stop. He leans against the railing. As Delia
waits expectantly, we CUT TO:


Rickie and Angela sit on the steps. Rickie steals glances at COREY who
sits some distance away painting A GIRL’S SNEAKERS. Meanwhile, Angela
steals glances at Jordan who stands with a HOLLY GALANOY (previously known
as “a Babe”). Angela looks back at Rickie, catches him looking at Corey.

ANGELA: Rayanne’s right.

RICKIE: About what?

ANGELA: About Corey. That you should ask him to the dance.

RICKIE: She told you!

ANGELA: It’s okay. I understand.

RICKIE: No you don’t. Understand. You don’t understand because... you
don’t. You couldn’t.

Jordan walks off with the babe. Angela watches them go. Beat. Angela
turns back to Rickie.

ANGELA: Oh, you’re right, Rickie. I could never understand having an
obsession for a person that I have zero hopes of ever becoming involved
with. That situation is totally beyond my experience of life. I *forgot*.

RICKIE: Okay. You made your point.

ANGELA: We’re hopeless.



Brian’s in the middle of a long tongue tied speech.

BRIAN: ... and so in conclusion I guess the truth is that, you know, if
you’re like amenable that, you know, um, I can’t like work twenty-four
hours a day. All work and no play, or whatever so...

DELIA: Brian. Are you asking me to the dance?

BRIAN: Um. Yeah.

Delia smiles. And we CUT BACK TO


RICKIE: Look at us, surrounded by people we can never have.

ANGELA: Look at them. Leading their fun filled lives.

RICKIE: No. I’m not gonna look. I’m gonna stop thinking about him right now.

ANGELA: Me too. About *my* him. We don’t need them...

RICKIE: Exactly. We are people in our own right. Tragically lonely people.

ANGELA: But we have each other. Don’t we? I mean, just because we’re not
going to that stupid dance.

ANGELA: Oh my God. Rickie, we’ll go *together*. That way we won’t be alone.

RICKIE: It’s perfect. Oh, I feel so much better. You know? Just to know
that it’s settled.

Corey approaches. On his way past them.

COREY: Hey. See you Saturday.

RICKIE: Excuse me? What?

Corey stops, turns.

COREY: Oh. Rayanne said that the three of us were gonna kind of hang
together. At the dance? Did I... get that wrong?

RICKIE: Oh. No. You got it completely right.

COREY: Cool. So... Saturday.

Corey walks off. Rickie and Angela look at each other.

ANGELA: Wow. So Rayanne actually... did it.

RICKIE: The truth is, as much as I’d never admit it to Rayanne? Because
it’s like dangerous to? This is why she’s such a good friend.

ANGELA (delicately): So, well, I guess I should just go with you and
Rayanne and Corey. Right?

RICKIE: I guess. Except then it might seem like you and I are *together*?
Like *boy-girl* together.

ANGELA: Oh. It might?

RICKIE: Yeah, like a double date or something.

ANGELA: Oh, yeah. I guess it might.

RICKIE: Whereas if it’s just me and Corey and Rayanne...? (he’s starting to
scare himself) Wait a second. Oh my God! This is too obvious isn’t it?
Maybe you *should* come.

ANGELA: No. I shouldn’t. You’re right.

Angela’s gaze moves to:

BRIAN AND DELIA as they simultaneously bite into Big Guy prepackaged apple
pies. Angela steps up. Brian’s eyes widen.

ANGELA: Hi! (turns awkwardly to Brian) Can I like talk to you for a minute?
It’s kind of an emergency.

BRIAN (to Angela): We were sort of...

DELIA: No. It’s fine. I have to go anway (rising) So. See you Saturday?

BRIAN: Um. Yeah.

Delia walks off. Brian looks at her.

ANGELA: So you like asked her to the dance?

BRIAN: Yes. In fact, I, you know wanted to go with someone so I just
thought: Her! So I just *asked*. It was, you know... That simple. (beat)
She seemed pretty much blown away.

ANGELA (taking this in): Oh. That’s great... Look, this is going to sound
really weird. Rayanne is doing this thing for Rickie? Because he has an
enormous crush on someone. And it’s just this very delicate balance. And
I know that you’re going with Delia and I’m like *really* happy for you...

BRIAN’S VOICE: And as she continued to basically *babble*, it started to
sink in that something truly amazing was happening.

ANGELA: ... I was just thinking that since we’re neighbors. It would be
sort of *convenient*... I mean, if there was any way that I could just go

BRIAN’S VOICE: When you stripped away all the blathering, Angela Chase was
asking to go to the dance with me.

ANGELA: Just to like get me there. I mean, not that we’d actually be going

BRIAN: Of course.

ANGELA: Not like *go* go. I mean, you’re *going* with Delia. I just need
a technical way to get there...

BRIAN’S VOICE: I would love to go to the dance with you.

BRIAN: It’s not a problem. I mean, fine. Tag along.

Angela smiles with slightly embarrassed relief. Brian’s eyes linger on
her, significantly.

BRIAN’S VOICE: What cruel irony.


Rickie maneuvers through a crowded hallway, determined. Finally, he
reaches Rayanne.

RICKIE: How could you do that!

RAYANNE: What did I do?

RICKIE: What did you do!? Invite Corey to the dance! With you and me...?
When I specifically told you not to!

RAYANNE: Oh yeah.

Rayanne chuckles.

RICKIE: Rayanne, listen to me. This isn’t funny. Now, you’ve driven me
crazy in the past. But I’m willing to overlook it. Because the truth is I
want to go. But if you say one word to embarrass me while the three of us
are together--

RAYANNE: Oh. I won’t be there.

RICKIE: What!?

RAYANNE: Well, I’m just not sure if I’m ready to go to an event like that.
I mean, I talked to my counselor and she said that I might not be able to--

RICKIE: Who cares about your stupid drinking problem!? This is my life!

RAYANNE: Re*lax*! It’s no problem.

RICKIE: Yes, it is.

RAYANNE: I will call Corey. Okay? I’ll explain the whole thing. Don’t
worry it’ll be fine.

Rickie just looks at her.


Brian stands pensively staring out his window, the weight of the world on
his shoulders.


Brian stands waiting, nervous. Delia appears.


DELIA: You wanted to talk to me?

BRIAN: Yeah. Um, how are you?

DELIA: Brian? I only have like a minute, so...

BRIAN: Oh right... So.. it’s sort of about the dance...


BRIAN: It turns out that I kind of forgot, you know, about this commitment
I already had?

DELIA (hurt): Oh.

BRIAN: And you know, it’s kind of special or whatever, so...

This hits her hard. Brian registers it.

BRIAN’S VOICE: Of all the stupid things I’ve said which are like countless?
I’ve never wanted to take something back more than that one.

BRIAN: I mean, maybe we can go somewhere else some time. I mean, catch a
movie or whatever.

DELIA: So this commitment? Is like another girl or something? (Brian is
voiceless) Brian. It doesn’t really matter who you told first. If it was
me or her. You should go with the person you *want* to go with. I mean,
if you’d rather go with her, that’s fine. All I ask is that you’re honest
with me. Please.

BRIAN: I see. Okay. So, I guess I would.

DELIA: Would what?

BRIAN: Rather go. You know, with her.

Delia smiles at Brian. Immediately, tears flood her face.

BRIAN (cont’d): I’m really sorry.

DELIA: Look, I have to get back in there. So it would be really good if
you would leave.

BRIAN: Delia.

DELIA: Please.

Brian walks off...





Patty sits reading. Graham enters from upstairs in his clothes. He is
unshaven, and looks exhausted. Patty smiles.

PATTY (sing-songy, please with herself): I have a surprise for you.

Graham opens it, it’s a computer printout. He reads it.

GRAHAM: What does this mean? So I’m enrolled...

PATTY: Yeah, I know you’ve had your hands full with the wallpaper and
everything so... Oh, and Graham, I just have this feeling that you’re
really going to enjoy this.

GRAHAM (stunned): You signed me up?

PATTY: Well, yeah. (very gently) I mean, I know sometimes it’s hard for you


PATTY (hesitant): Focus?

This hits a nerve. Graham crumples the computer printout and tosses it
into the wastebasket. He starts toward the stairs...

PATTY: Graham, I just thought... I mean, I know you like to cook--

GRAHAM (turning toward her): It’s not that I “like” to cook. It’s... It’s
this *thing* I can just... *do*. The *one* thing I can do.

Graham starts toward the kitchen.

PATTY (desperate to explain): But that’s just the point. Sweetheart...

Graham exits. Patty heads toward the kitchen, but stops when the DOORBELL

DANIELLE (O.S.): *I’ll get it*!

Danielle flies in and moves to the front door.

PATTY: Ask who it is first.

DANIELLE (to the door): Who is it?

BRIAN (O.S.): Brian Krakow.

Danielle opens the door. It’s Brian, dressed as if he’s put thought into
it. He looks great.

DANIELLE (stunned): Oh my God.

BRIAN: Hi... Um, is Angela around?

Brian walks in. Patty looks at him, stunned.

PATTY: Oh my God.

BRIAN: We’re uh, going to that dance thing? Well, we’re not actually going
*with* each other but...

Angela appears on the steps. She looks beautiful. Brian takes in the
sight of her. Then, barely audible:

BRIAN (cont’d): Oh my God.

Graham emerges from the kitchen holding a beer.

GRAHAM (to Patty, moving toward the stairs): And you know something. When
I want to, I can focus just fine.

Graham heads upstairs. Patty watches him, upset.

ANGELA: So, we’re picking Delia up?

PATTY (to Brian, preoccupied): So wait a second. Your Dad is picking you
two up, right? Or is it three of you?

BRIAN (beat): As it turns out? Delia, can’t go.

ANGELA: Wait a second. Why?

BRIAN (to Patty): It’s... her aunt actually. She’s, you know, actually in
the hospital.

Angela looks at him, alarmed. Brian smiles, uncomfortably.


The room is transformed, completely wallpapered. A perfect job.
Everything has been cleaned and restored to order.

PATTY (O.S.): Graham? Graham?

Patty walks into the room and stops short, stunned. She looks around
taking it all in. Graham enters from the bathroom. They look at each
other. Long silence.

PATTY: Wow. I guess we found another thing you can do.

GRAHAM: You’re welcome.

Graham heads to the bed, lies down. Patty goes over, lays down beside him.
They stare around at the wallpaper.

PATTY: My God. You should have seen the look on her face when he told her
that the other girl wasn’t coming. They’re going to have such a terrible time.

They both laugh.

PATTY (cont’d): Look... I know you probably feel like you can’t breath
sometimes that I’m this horrible *nag* or something. Feel free to stop me
any time. (beat) Look, I’ll put a stop on the check. I’ll call the
registrar and tell them--

GRAHAM: Don’t do that. (beat, she looks at him) I sort of have to see if
Steffan Dieter can still stiffen his egg whites. I mean, as long as I’m
already signed up. (beat) I mean, thanks for signing me up.

She smiles. Patty takes another look at the room.

PATTY: God this room! It’s like we’re grown ups or something.


The room is adorned with huge smiley faces. SEVERAL TEACHERS (among them,
MS. LERNER and ANOTHER TEACHER) are sprinkled throughout the room. We FIND
Corey and Rickie. Rickie talks -- nervous, but excited. Corey laughs,
riveted to the story.

RICKIE: ... So finally the mouse runs across the classroom, and I swear to
God, starts like *chasing* Mrs. Shindelheim. Which is when she triped over
Nicholas Cahill. (beat) Which is why she the neck brace.

Corey cracks up anew.

COREY: You’re like *really* funny.

Rickie smiles; he can’t believe how well this is going. Then:

COREY (cont’d): So. Where’s Rayanne?

RICKIE (beat): She didn’t call you?

COREY: No. Why?

RICKIE: Well, she told me she was gonna call you. Because she’s not...
She’s not coming.


RICKIE: It’s sort of a long story.

COREY: Oh. Now I may have to reevaluate the whole night.

RICKIE (deflated): Oh.



Brian and Angela walk in

BRIAN: A lot of people.


BRIAN’S VOICE: Okay. This is the simplest thing in the world. People do
it every day. Just start a conversation.


ANGELA: Yeah. So... Do you think, you could get me something to drink?

BRIAN (gut reaction): Get it yourself. (recovering) Oh. Okay. What do
you want?

ANGELA: Just, you know, whatever.

Brian leaves. Angela scans the room: Corey awkwardly walks away from
Rickie; Sharon plays the bubbly hostess holding Kyle attached to her arm;
no sign of Jordan.


BRAIN pours two glasses of punch. Rickie walks up. Rayanne and Corey
dance in the b.g.

RICKIE: Hey...

BRIAN: Oh... Hi.

RICKIE: So, you and Angela are like... I mean, you came here together?

BRIAN: Sort of.

RICKIE: I was thinking of like, you know, hanging with you guys. But I
don’t know if you’re here as like friends. Or you know, if it’s actually a
*thing*. Because you know, it’s sort of like whatever’s better. For you.

BRIAN: Oh. Whatever... You know I mean, maybe you’d better not come over.
(Rickie’s eyes show surprise) I mean, you know. We might want to like
*dance* or something.

RICKIE: That’s really great.

Brian smiles and walks back to Angela.

BRIAN: It’s punch.

ANGELA: Thanks. So what did Rickie want?

BRIAN: Nothing.

Angela looks over and sees Rickie by himself, looking upset.

ANGELA: What did you say to him?

BRIAN: Nothing!... I just said, it was better that maybe he didn’t like
hang out with us.

ANGELA: *What*!?

BRIAN: I thought that might be awkward or whatever so...

ANGELA: Rickie’s my friend.

BRIAN: He’s my friend too. It’s just that, what if... I don’t know, if we
wanted privacy or something.

ANGELA (horrified): Why would we want *privacy*?

BRIAN: Well, we probably wouldn’t but...

ANGELA: Brian. What do you think is happening here?

BRIAN: What? Nothing!

ANGELA: Didn’t I *explain* what the whole reasoning for this was?

BRIAN: Um, yeah, but... I just thought if we wanted to say... dance or

ANGELA: We’re not going to dance!

BRIAN: I *realize* that! Look, it wasn’t some big *plan* or anything. I
don’t even *believe* in making plans. Whatever happens, happens.

ANGELA: That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard in my life!

Angela spots DELIA standing by herself.

ANGELA (cont’d): What did you say to Delia!?

Brian follow her gaze to Delia. He is speechless.

ANGELA (cont’d): You don’t understand people, Krakow. That they need to
*belong* somewhere. You are so *heartless*!

She storms off, but suddenly stops short, stunned as she sees JORDAN
CATALANO standing with several BUDDIES. She smiles at him. Seeing this,
Brian’s body shivers with frustration.

BRIAN’S VOICE: I mean, the fact that she called me heartless. *That* is
just really good. That’s excellent. How *ironic* can you get without like



Off to the side, above the world, sizing things up, not liking what they’re
seeing. Angela considers whether to walk over, but Jordan averts his eyes,
focusing on a cigarette stuck in his pack. Angela registers this and
continues toward the door. We CUT TO:


Sharon follows Kyle’s gaze to HOLLY GALANOY dancing with COREY on the dance

SHARON: That’s right. There’s Holly Galanoy. Maybe you’d rather be with
someone like that.

KYLE: Like what?

SHARON: Like Holly Galanoy. Like Rayanne Graff. Like a slut.

KYLE: What are you talking about? I never said I wanted...

SHARON (interrupting): Maybe you need *variety*. Maybe you know... (to a
passing GIRL) Hi, I *love* your shoes!

KYLE: Sharon.

SHARON (reasonably): Kyle, if you feel *trapped* or something? You should
just say it. Really. I mean, it’s okay.

KYLE (beat): Well, I guess I do feel... a little, you know, trapped.

SHARON (stricken): Oh.

KYLE: Look, I’m just saying--

SHARON: You know what? I’ll make it easy on you. We’re breaking up. It’s

She looks at him, waiting for him to protest, but he just stands there,

SHARON (cont’d): Listen to me. You’re going to dance with me tonight.
You’re going to act like there’s no one in the world you’d rather be with.
Because you owe it to me. Because I worked by butt of for this *stupid
dance*. (beat) Do you understand?

KYLE: Yeah.

Sharon smiles through emerging tears.

SHARON: And just so you know. I really hate you right now.

And we CUT TO:


Brian walks up. She stands there and just looks at him.

BRIAN: Um, look. (beat, breathes deep) I was really wrong. I like
*realize* that now. That what I did was pretty *heartless* or whatever.

Delia starts to smile; Brian’s hopeful. But she is smiling at Sharon, who
walks up. Kyle has his arm around her.

SHARON: I am so thrilled you’re here. You know Kyle, right?

BRIAN: Yeah, hi.

Sharon looks very coldly at Brian. Then to Delia:

SHARON: You know what? I’m glad that you decided to come on your own.
It’s better. There are like so many really cute guys that I want you to meet.

Brian watches them go off, leaving him completely alone.


Angela walks over to Rickie, who sits alone on the steps.

RICKIE: So Rayanne never called Corey. So Corey’s *re-evaluating* the

ANGELA: You know what we should do? We should just kill both of them.

RICKIE: That’s a really nice offer. But the truth is? That would only
solve half the problem

ANGELA: What’s the other half?

RICKIE: The other half is like, you know, the tough half.

ANGELA: Which is...?

RICKIE (simple, quiet): Which is just, you know, that I belong nowhere.
With no one. That I don’t fit.

Silence. Rickie stares ahead, Angela looks at him, searching for what to
say. Finally, she just reaches out to him. They fall into a long, tight
hug. As they break apart, Jordan and his buddies emerge through the front

Jordan locks eyes with Angela, and comes to a stop several feet away from
her. Jordan nods to his buddies, who head off toward the car.

Angela looks up at Rickie, not sure what to do.

RICKIE (cont’d): (sincerely) It’s okay.

Rickie heads off. Jordan and Angela look at each other. The they both
slowly walk up to each other.


Jordan looks at her in a way that’s so blatantly intimate and sexual that
Angela literally retreats a step. He sets his arms on either side of her,
leaning his weight against a tree behind her.

Brian emerges into the darkened doorway. As he looks at Angela with
Jordan, his feelings pour over his face. Unable to bear this, he turns
back inside. And we CUT BACK TO:


PULSING BASS DRIVEN DANCE SONG POUNDS. The dance floor is packed. (Ms.
Lerner and a teacher dance together.) Brian walks in and sees Rickie
approach Delia. They talk. Delia looks hesitant. Finally Rickie reaches
out and takes her hand. They walk out onto the dance floor as we CUT TO:


Jordan looks like he about to move in to kiss her. Angela braces herself,
waiting. But he pulls back.

JORDAN (softly): Why are you like this?

ANGELA: Like what?

JORDAN: Like how you are.

A CAR HORN begins to honk. Jordan takes a final look her and walks away.

ANGELA (calling after him): How am I?

But Jordan doesn’t turn back. When Angela thinks about it a few seconds
more, she *really* wants to know.

ANGELA (cont’d): (louder) How am I?

He hops in his car. Laughter echoes into the night. Angela watches the
car screech away, devastated as we CUT TO:


Rickie starts to dance. His movements are elegant and exude emotion.
Delia, realizing immediately Rickie’s in another league, allows herself to
be twirled and led. A smile breaks out on her face. People start to
notice. Being noticed gives Rickie fule. His movements become more and
more grand. There is something almost religious about his intensity. It
continues to build. More people take notice. Rickie seems, for at least
this moment, at peace.


Angela sits leaning against a fence wondering “How she is.” A COUPLE
emerge through the doors and immediately being making out. Angela rises
and heads back inside.


Rickie builds to a finish as the song ends. A beat of silence. Then, as
kids burst into spontaneous applause we find, Brian standing dumbfounded,
staring at Delia. She catches his eye and just glares at him, triumphant.

Someone taps Brian on the shoulder. He swings around; it’s Angela.


He doesn’t look at her.

A SLOW SONG starts up. Almost everyone dances (INCLUDING Rickie and Delia;
Sharon and Kyle). Angela leans in close to him, to be heard over the music.

ANGELA (cont’d): Brian, this was all my fault...

BRIAN’S VOICE: Her hair smelled incredible

ANGELA: ... I mean, I ruined your night. And Delia’s night. I should have
just stayed out of it.

BRIAN’S VOICE: Like this orange grove we passed when I was eight on our way
to see my grandmother. The whole world was perfumed. And I don’t know--

ANGELA: And I can’t really explain why I even got involved. But I’m sorry.

Angela pulls away.

BRIAN’S VOICE: But I guess that’s just like her shampoo, or whatever. So...

They stare out to the dance floor watching couples engaged in some of the
most meaningful moments of their lives.

BRIAN: These things are so stupid.

ANGELA: I know. No one ever has a good time. (beat) So. You want to... I
don’t know. Dance or something?

BRIAN: Not with you. (beat) Well, you know. I’m just... I don’t really
care about dancing that much...

ANGELA: Me neither...

And as they continue to stare out at the dance floor, not facing each
other, we:



prev | up Scripts | next

“I cannot bring myself to eat a well-balanced meal in front of my mother.”

Angela Chase, Episode 1: "My So-Called Life (Pilot)"