So, what becomes of the women for whom Mother’s Day serves no purpose…?<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
INT. BASEMENT OF SMALL BUNGALOW HOME – DAY<\/p>\n
WOMEN congregate in a basement decked out with baby shower d\u00e9cor (stork cutouts, blue and pink streamers, baby cutouts, rattles, etc.).<\/p>\n
MICHELLE, a thirty-something career woman, cautiously walks down the stairwell and peers around the corner into the basement to see a small group of chatty MOTHERS surrounding a food table filled to the brim with decadent delights (chocolate fountain, exotic fruits, crab cakes, sushi, etc.).<\/p>\n
JEANNIE, a young mother, shows cell phone pictures of her son to the rest of the group.<\/p>\n
JEANNIE<\/p>\n
Okay, so, here’s little Joey with the azalea.<\/p>\n
WOMEN<\/p>\n
Awh.<\/p>\n
Michelle strolls over to the food table and works her way through the group. She gawks at the table with intense desire.<\/p>\n
JEANNIE<\/p>\n
Now, here he is on the floor. Oh, and here we are in the emergency room... (proudly) his first visit.<\/p>\n
WOMEN<\/p>\n
Awh.<\/p>\n
Michelle starts shoveling hors d’oeuvres onto her plate. She takes a bite of a crab cake.<\/p>\n
MICHELLE<\/p>\n
(to herself)<\/p>\n
Holy shit, these crab cakes are fantastic.<\/p>\n
Jeannie stops and slowly spins around.<\/p>\n
JEANNIE<\/p>\n
I’m sorry. And you are?<\/p>\n
Michelle brushes off her hand and extends it toward LYNETTE, another mother.<\/p>\n
MICHELLE<\/p>\n
Michelle.<\/p>\n
Ignoring her gesture, Lynette psychotically looks Michelle up and down and sniffs her.<\/p>\n
LYNETTE<\/p>\n
(sniffing)<\/p>\n
You don’t smell like baby powder, cheerios, (takes a long whiff) ... or stale formula. Do you have little ones at home?<\/p>\n
MICHELLE<\/p>\n
No. I don’t. Why?<\/p>\n
CHARLOTTE<\/p>\n
Can’t you read? Or has the lack of progesterone production made you stupid?<\/p>\n
JEANNIE<\/p>\n
This section is for mothers only. Others belong in that section.<\/p>\n
Jeannie points across the room to the other side of the basement which is divided into two halves by a tattered rope. SIGNS hang on the wall. On one side it says “Mothers,” on the other side it says “Others.”<\/p>\n
MICHELLE<\/p>\n
But I ....<\/p>\n
LYNETTE<\/p>\n
What’s wrong with you anyway?<\/p>\n
CHARLOTTE<\/p>\n
Go! Get out of here! You infer-tile. You abomination.<\/p>\n
The rest of the women chime in, goading her over to the other side. Charlotte rips the food out of Michelle’s hand and pushes her.<\/p>\n
MICHELLE<\/p>\n
(muttering to herself)<\/p>\n
What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you? Bunch of lactating psychos.<\/p>\n
Michelle steps over the rope into the dirty, dark, and cramped “Others” section. A creepy, green fluorescent light flickers overhead.<\/p>\n
She walks over to the “Others” food table which consists of a single aluminum PAN OF PASTA and a PLATE OF STALE COOKIES.<\/p>\n
She picks up a plate, scoops up some mostaccioli from the pan, and drops it on her plate in a sticky CLUMP. The clumps rolls off the plate and onto the floor.<\/p>\n
Michelle shudders, drops the plate, and walks over to the group of women sitting in the corner: TWO OLD WOMEN, a BUTCH LESBIAN, and CRAZY AUNT BEA. They sit in silence, staring ahead gumming their mostaccioli.<\/p>\n
MICHELLE<\/p>\n
(to the group)<\/p>\n
This is awful.<\/p>\n
Nobody responds.<\/p>\n
MICHELLE<\/p>\n
What do you say we sneak over to the other side and dip into the chocolate fountain?<\/p>\n
Nobody responds.<\/p>\n
MICHELLE<\/p>\n
Come on, we deserve the right to better food.<\/p>\n
OLD WOMAN<\/p>\n
Do you have children?<\/p>\n
MICHELLE<\/p>\n
No.<\/p>\n
All turn their backs to Michelle except Bea who leans toward Michelle. Bea motions to Michelle who promptly leans forward.<\/p>\n
BEA<\/p>\n
(carefully whispers)<\/p>\n
Do you have any mari-jua-na?<\/p>\n
Michelle gazes at Bea confused.<\/p>\n
MICHELLE<\/p>\n
Look. This is the 21st century.<\/p>\n
Michelle angrily paces back and forth.<\/p>\n
MICHELLE (CONT’D)<\/p>\n
Mothers. Others. We need to show those Boob Nazis...<\/p>\n
A loud GROWL is heard. Michelle jumps back startled by the angry GERMAN SHEPARD tied to the support beam guarding the entrance to the “Mothers” side.<\/p>\n
MICHELLE<\/p>\n
As I was saying, it shouldn’t matter if...<\/p>\n
Michelle grabs a COOKIE from the “Others” table, stands back, and hesitantly throws it at the dog. The dog eats it.<\/p>\n
MICHELLE (CONT’D)<\/p>\n
We choose to procreate or not. We deserve the same rights and privileges as everyone else when it comes to our food choices.<\/p>\n
Dog starts dry heaving and vomits up the cookie. Michelle looks at the dog disgusted.<\/p>\n
MICHELLE<\/p>\n
See? Not even fit for dogs. Forget this.<\/p>\n
Michelle indignantly steps over the rope, into the “Mothers” side, and walks over to the food table. Chatting and laughing, the group of mothers congregates in the corner. Michelle grabs a plate and loads up on food.<\/p>\n
MICHELLE<\/p>\n
(putting the food on her plate)<\/p>\n
Mmm. Truffle canap\u00e9s, prosciutto, brie en croute... ooh tiramisu...<\/p>\n
As the women laugh, Jeannie turns around and notices Michelle sneaking food.<\/p>\n
JEANNIE<\/p>\n
What do you think you’re doing?!<\/p>\n
The rest of the women turn around.<\/p>\n
JEANNIE<\/p>\n
This is for mothers only! Mothers only!<\/p>\n
CHARLOTTE<\/p>\n
We don’t feed your kind here.<\/p>\n
MICHELLE<\/p>\n
Hey, at least, I don’t carry the perpetual stench of baby poop around with me. Yeah, that’s right. I said it. Y’all stink like a sewage treatment plant in mid-July.<\/p>\n
JEANNIE<\/p>\n
Get her!<\/p>\n
LYNETTE<\/p>\n
Baby-hater!<\/p>\n
The women charge, throwing PACIFIERS and BOTTLES at Michelle. Enveloping her in a dog pile, one woman picks up a DIAPER GENIE and bashes it over Michelle’s head. Another wraps a SECURITY BLANKET around Michelle’s neck choking her.<\/p>\n
After some struggle, Michelle finally wrestles herself away from the group.<\/p>\n
MICHELLE<\/p>\n
Listen. This is insane. Just because I can’t have children...<\/p>\n
JEANNIE<\/p>\n
You can’t have children?<\/p>\n
MICHELLE<\/p>\n
My uterus possesses more hostility than a feminist running a marathon without a bra.<\/p>\n
ALL<\/p>\n
Awwh. Nooo.<\/p>\n
The women gather around and console Michelle.<\/p>\n
JEANNIE<\/p>\n
We’re so sorry.<\/p>\n
LYNETTE<\/p>\n
Here sit down. Have some pecan-caramel cheesecake.<\/p>\n
CHARLOTTE<\/p>\n
Salmon roulade?<\/p>\n
The women sit Michelle down and start handing her food. Michelle, shrugs, sits back, and happily gorges herself on the hors d’oeuvres.<\/p>\n
JEANNIE<\/p>\n
So, when do you plan to start looking into adoption?<\/p>\n
LYNETTE<\/p>\n
Or surrogacy? I know this great...<\/p>\n
MICHELLE<\/p>\n
I’m not.<\/p>\n
CHARLOTTE<\/p>\n
But you said...<\/p>\n
MICHELLE<\/p>\n
(continuing to eat)<\/p>\n
Barren and loving it. Can you pass me the chanterelle mushroom custard?<\/p>\n
ALL<\/p>\n
(simultaneously)<\/p>\n
What? What are you talking about? How dare you?<\/p>\n
In an uproar, the women knock the plate out of Michelle’s hand. Michelle looks around confused. As a group, they lift her from the chair, carry her across the room, and throw her over the rope to the “Others” side. Michelle lands face down on the floor.<\/p>\n
Out of the corner of her eye, Michelle spies a crab cake. She reaches for it when, suddenly, the dog runs over, grabs the cake, and runs away. Michelle pounds her fist on the floor.<\/p>\n
MICHELLE<\/p>\n
Disenfranchised by a dog.<\/p>\n
BLACKOUT:<\/p>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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