"Kickin' and Screaming"

INT. REESE'S STUDIO APARTMENT - NIGHT

Similar to Team Scream's Apartment, except everything (doors, staircase) is on the opposite side. The decor reflects its owner. The walls are white, but not bare. Movie posters and modern art paintings cling all around, proudly displaying their colors. The furniture is very modern, colorful and cozy. Mostly tidy, with the exception of a jacket dangling on the back of a chair, magazines in a pile on the floor and a wash bin in the kitchen full of dishes.

A heavy shockwave of sound - fuzzy static - shatters through the acoustics of the living room.

Angel and Demonica sit on a long yellow couch in front of the T.V., the light from it cascading upon them. Angel is bent forward, resting her chin in her hand. She looks tired. Demonica is slouching, with her arms crossed and resting her boots on the coffee table before her. She wears a mask of anxiousness.

CUT TO:

The static on the television. The sound is louder than it was before.

The camera pulls back slowly as the volume returns to what it was before. Reese pops up as the camera has pulled back into a fuller screen. He's fiddling with some cords.

REESE

Hmm...how about now?

DEMONICA

No.

He holds the cords up higher.

REESE

Now?

ANGEL
(yawn)

No.

REESE

Hmm...

He moves the antennas up and apart from one another. Then, he smacks the side of it a few times, whacking it good. He stops and bends over it to see the screen, still snowing.

DEMONICA

Oh, don't stop now. I think you missed a spot.

Reese comes around the front of the screen and adjusts the tracking on the VCR.

REESE

I've never seen it act this way before...

Angel rubs her tired eyes and Demonica cranes her neck to look at the VCR over Reese's gulliver.

DEMONICA

What channel is it on?

REESE

Uh, I'm not sure. I haven't watched TV in a while...plus I lost the remote.

Demonica rolls her head back so that the top on it rests on the wall.

DEMONICA

Well, does it have little buttons on it?

REESE

The remote?

DEMONICA

THE VCR.

She straightens out now.

DEMONICA

Does the VCR have buttons on it?

REESE

Yeah, but the words on them faded a long time a go.

DEMONICA

Well, press one.

CU:

The tip of Reese's finger hit a button and holds it down.

The volume goes way up. Everyone instantly grabs on to their ears and cringe in pain.

CU:

The tip of Reese's finger furiously hitting the same button and holding it down.

Reese looks back at them. Angel's alert now, Demonica's still holding one ear.

DEMONICA

Ey, man, what the fuck?

REESE
(mouthing the words)

Sorry.

He hits another button, this time with success. The picture changes to another channel, "26". He presses it again and it turns to another channel, "25". Having found the "BACK" button, he holds it down, until it reaches the channel "3".

REESE

All right. Here we go.

He picks up an unmarked, black videocassette tape from the edge of the coffee table and puts in the VCR. He presses a button (hopefully "PLAY") and rushes over to his spot in the middle of the couch.

Kickin'
and
Screamin’

CU:

The TV screen with a calm black visage, then bursts into angry static. It clears soon as a countdown begins.

5

4

3

2

1

A blank screen reads:

Kickin’ and Screamin’-101-”The Rocky Horror”

An old-timey song starts up as the font sweeps across the screen over an image of a two-story house in Anywheresville, Suburbia.

INT. THE MORGANLANDER HOUSEHOLD - DAY

A woman stands over the stove in the kitchen, stirring a pot, whilst humming a chipper tune. She has long, dark blonde hair in to loose ponytails hanging down past her shoulders and an apron covers most of her. On her long nose rests a pair of green cat-eye glasses. This woman is MARGOT MORGANLANDER. She takes the pot off the eye and walks over to a set kitchen table. She begins spooning the contents into the bowls as she calls out.

MARGOT

Huuunneeey! Kiiids! Breakfast!

A man enters through a swinging door. This is BOB MORGANLANDER. He looks older compared to his wife. Little gray patches here and there in his nicely trimmed beard and slicked back hair, horn-rimmed reading glasses on hide his brown eyes. He wears a suit and tie, with his suit jacket draped over his arm. He walks over to the head of the table and takes a seat.

BOB

Top of the morning, Missus Morganlander.

He unfolds a newspaper and begins to read a section as Margot comes over with a coffee pot.

MARGOT

Bottom of the ninth, Mister Morganlander.

She fills his mug.

BOB

And how’d you sleep last night, Missus?

MARGOT

With you, Mister Morganlander.

She giggles a little and then bends down to kiss him on the top of the head.

VOICE

Ugh.

The camera whips around to Demonica standing in the doorway.

DEMONICA

Get a room, you two.

She walks over to her place at the table. Margot walks over to stand behind Bob.

MARGOT

Oh, we have one.

She hugs Bob around the shoulders.

MARGOT

How else do you think you got here?

DEMONICA

Ew. Old people fucking.

Margot and Bob laugh. Margot straightens out and puts a fist to her hip.

MARGOT

Now, where is that girl? Angel? Your breakfast is getting cold!

ANGEL
(muffled behind the door)

Just a sec!

Angel enters the room in a rushed manner and makes a bee-line for her seat. She starts stuffing her face with chow. Margot walks over and puts her hand on her shoulder.

MARGOT

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down there, missy!

ANGEL
(Through packed cheeks)

Can’t Mom. Drama try-outs today. Got to get fit.

She gulps down her juice, turns the cup over and puts it inside the bowl, along with the spoon. She jumps up and hands it off to her mother and kisses her on the cheek.

ANGEL

Bye, Mom.

She leans over to Bob and gives him a peck on the cheek.

ANGEL

Bye, Dad.

She runs out the door.

DEMONICA

Hey!

Demonica grabs her book bag off the floor and snatches up Angel’s as well.

DEMONICA

Wait up!

She runs after her as their parents smile and shake their heads.

EXT. J.T. MARLIN HIGH SCHOOL - DAY

Average sized building, appears to be two floors. The lawn is healthy and well-kempt. Some people are walking towards it, others are just standing around talking.

A signpost reads:

DRAMA TRYOUTS TODAY
FRIDAY:CLASS ELECTIONS

INT. J. T. MARLIN HIGH SCHOOL - HALLWAY - DAY

Typical public high school. Numerous teenagers crowd it with their bodies as well as their noise. Many of them stand there at thin, open lockers talking, others scurry off in an effort not to late for second bell. Littered papers and the like flood the floor. There’s a painting of a man at the end of the hall, probably the founder, that’s been marked up and grayed from the years of wear and tear. Angel is at the end of the hall, the last locker. She’s putting up her things, excitedly. Demonica is leaning on the locker next to her, smoking.

ANGEL

Today’s the day! I can feel it!

DEMONICA

Well, if you don’t mind, could you enlighten me as to what the hell is up with you?

Angel closes her locker, puts her book bag on her shoulder and turns to her sister.

ANGEL

You don’t know?

DEMONICA

Well, if I did, I wouldn’t be askin’, now would I?

ANGEL

Drama try-outs! Today!

DEMONICA

Let me get this straight. You’re going ape crazy over The Sound of Music?

ANGEL

That was last year. Due to the abundance of complaints the Drama department has decided to go in a completely opposite direction.

DEMONICA

So, what are they doing this year? Chicago?

Angel shakes her head.

ANGEL

No, no, no.

She pulls out a neon-green flyer and hands it to Demonica; she reads the heading aloud.

DEMONICA

“The J.T. Marlin Drama Department Proudly Presents…The Rocky Horror Picture Show?” What the hell?

ANGEL

Isn’t it wild?

DEMONICA

It’s…something. Definitely something.

INT. CLASSROOM - DAY
Angel sits at her desk, listening to a teacher’s lecture, with half-lidded eye lids.

TEACHER

Well, like, I went to S-Mart and they’re no help. I’m like, “Hello? Can I get some service, here?!” and they’re all, “We’re on our lunch break.” I’m the customer! All I want is to buy a damn microwave!

Static from the intercom pierces the ears of occupants. A female voice, firm and proper, begins to speak.

VOICE

Good morning, staff and students of J.T. Marlin High. This is Mrs. Buttercup with this morning’s announcements.

BOY

Bitch!

Most of the kids laugh at his immature outburst. The teacher looks at the boy with the threat of reprimand and shushes the giggling gaggle of sheep. The voice continues.

MRS. BUTTERCUP

…lack of toilet tissue in the lavatory. Today is the day of drama tryouts. As many of you may know, this year we’ll be performing…uh…

The rustling of paper is heard.

MRS.BUTTERCUP

“The”…uh, yes “The Rocky Horror Picture Show”. Bon chance to all that apply!

Angel brightens.

MRS. BUTTERCUP

Today is also the day of the Class Election Debate assembly. Students are asked to file into the auditorium at promptly 2:30.

Some kids “aww”, others exclaim hissing yes’s.

GIRL

Anybody got some Caramex?

The teacher shushes again.

MRS. BUTTERCUP
And now, without further ado, your friend and mine, Principal Moltisanti!

Mrs. Buttercup claps as the class erupts in a chorus of disapproval.

INT. J.T. MARLIN HIGH - GIRL’S LAVATORY - DAY

Shabby. They’re several stalls that have broken doors that do not close or open. A few don’t even have doors. One girl is at the hand dryer, drying her hair. Another girl sits on the sill of a large window smoking a cigarette. There are three sinks with mirrors. Two girls stand at one, talking and applying make-up. The middle one is vacant, but the third is occupied by Angel. She's staring in the mirror, sans glasses. Suddenly, she PLUNGES her face into the waiting water in the sink and back out again. She uses some brown paper towel to dab her face dry. She undoes the scrunchi holding her hair in place and runs her fingers through it. She exhales and closes her eyes.

INT. J.T. MARLIN HIGH AUDITORIUM – DAY
A young woman dressed as Janet in a bra and half slip on stage, her screechy vocals belting out "Creature of the Night", dancing her heart out.

GIRL
(shrilly)

Touch-A, Touch-A, Touch-A, Touch meeeee, Creature of the Niiight! Creature of the Night! Creature of NIGHT!

She stops in a pose and looks straight ahead, breathing heavily.

CUT TO:

A panel that consist of three judges. The first judge is female and she's smiling and clapping. The guy in the middle is writing something on a piece of paper. The third guy stares at her with his arms crossed. This is MR. BLACK, the drama teacher.

MR. BLACK
(deadpan)

We'll get back to you, Lucy.

LUCY
Ooh, wait! I also prepared a rendition of "The Time Warp." I've taken a few liberties with the lyrics and it's more of a samba...

MR. BLACK
(sternly)

Results will be up tomorrow, Lucy.

LUCY
All right.

She starts to back out to exit stage left. You get the feeling she does this every year.

CUT TO:

A young man standing in center stage flailing his limbs to a falsetto version of Sweet Transvestite.

YOUNG MAN
(singing)

I’m just a sweet transvestite, from Transsexual, Transylvania-huh-huh...

MR. BLACK
(deadpan)

Thanks, Ricky.

RICKY
(seriously)

I don't have the part?

MR. BLACK
(deadpan)

Results will be up tomorrow, Ricky.

RICKY

Yeah, and my name won't be up there, will it? You know, I've had it up to here with you "Drama" teachers. You don't know real drama. That's why you're hardly able to teach it! You all hide behind you're clipboards, berets and, and whistles... well let me tell you something...

He starts to fall apart.

RICKY
(passionately)

You're all nothing more than a bunch of big, fat, mean...CHEESEMOS! And all your judging and critiquing don't come to nuthin'! They don't come to nuthin', Mr. Black! You're not drama! I'm drama!

He strikes a dramatic pose and the female judge stands to clap excitedly.

MR. BLACK
(with a slight smile)

Thank you, Ricky.

You get the feeling he does this every year.

CUT TO:

A girl standing in center stage with her eyes closed. She's harmonizing with her finger in the air to show that she's feeling it. The female judge is looking at her with adoration, while Mr. Black rolls his eyes and lets his head fall back.

CUT TO:

Behind the curtain other hopefuls read over their scripts. Some sit, some stand, some pace, some rehearse together. Some even do scales. Angel sits in a chair, resting her chin in her hand, staring intently at the script. Her foot is tapping at an excessive rate. A hand comes down on her shoulder. She jumps at the touch. She looks up and it's Demonica, who takes the seat next to her.

DEMONICA

Hey, man.

ANGEL

Hey, man. What are doing here? Moral support?

DEMONICA

I should, with you all antsy. Naw, I came back to try my hand at this thing.

ANGEL
(smiles)

Oh, really? That's great! What part are you going for? Columbia?

DEMONICA

Hell naw! I'm going for Magenta!

Angel's smile fades.

ANGEL

Magenta?

DEMONICA

Yeah, that's what I said right?

ANGEL

Well, how did this come about?

DEMONICA

Your enthusiasm really inspired me. I was on my way to Mr. Mack when I looked down and there was the flyer stuck to my shoe. As I snatched it off the sole, I started thinking about how cool it would be. And that's how it came about.

ANGEL

Well, why that character?

DEMONICA

Dunno. It just stuck in my mind.

ANGEL

Maybe it stuck in your mind because it was my idea!

DEMONICA

What are you talking about?

ANGEL

I'm going after Magenta! I've been planning it for three weeks now!

DEMONICA

Oh. Oh yeah.

ANGEL

Why don't you just audition for Columbia?

DEMONICA

Columbia dies at the end. She DIES, all right? I don't wanna die!

Angel gives an incredulous look.

DEMONICA

Well, what's so bad about it?

ANGEL

Well, nothing except the fact that I told you in advance about this and you waltz in here on the cuff to take my part!

DEMONICA

I think you mean, "off the cuff". CUT TO:

A close-up of a hallway clock. It strikes 2:30. A bell rings.

INT. J.T. MARLIN AUDITORIUM – DAY
The stage is set for the debate: two podiums, a table, and a chair for the moderator. On the table sits a pitcher and cups, papers, a gavel and block and a timer. Two girls stand behind the podiums. The one on the left is a bubbly blonde dressed in the pinnacle of dress. The obvious choice to win. The one on the right is the typical nerd-girl: glasses, crisp dress shirt, ratty ponytail, etc. She has a box of Kleenex on her podium. Currently, the blonde's talking.

BLONDE

So, the bathrooms are really gross. Just sick. One time, I went in there and there was a text book, on the floor...covered in pee. Is that right? And, the last time I went in there...
GIRL IN CROWD

...Was to puke!

Most of the crowd laughs, the teachers moderating the crowd try to tame them. The moderator at the head table bangs her gavel.

MODERATOR

Peace! Peace!

The audience quiets down.

BLONDE
(upset)

ANYWAY...

She composes.

BLONDE

The state of our bathrooms is really sad. I mean, I can't speak for the boy's bathrooms, 'cause naturally, I've never been in there...

GIRL FROM BEFORE

THAT'S NOT WHAT I HEARD!

Audience Oohs.

BLONDE

Would someone get this dog a leash?

Audience Oohs.

BLONDE

Like I was saying...what was I saying? Whatever, it's not important.

The timer dings.

MODERATOR
Now, we will hear from Matilda November.

Weak applause from the crowd. Some slow clapping from the peanut gallery.

BOY IN THE BACK

YAY, MATILDA!

MATILDA

Um, so, I was watching the news and they had a special on this lady that would spend all her money just to dress to the nine's and she and her children barely had enough money to get by for other expenses. I was both saddened and inspired by this. I say that due to the insane amount of things people will go through to wear designer rags, J.T. Marlin should enforce the wearing of a school-wide uniform.

The crowd BOOS.

BOY

COMMUNIST!

The moderators in the audience try to tame them. Once it dies down a little, Matilda continues.

MATILDA

I'm not saying that because we'll dress the same means, we'll lose our identities; uniforms can be very expressive. In fact...

An assistant behind the curtain wheels out a huge sketch board.

MATILDA

...I've taken the liberty of designing some examples I'd like to showcase.

The audience boos again.

BOY

YOU'RE GONNA LOSE!

INT. MORGANLANDER HOME - ANGEL'S ROOM – NIGHT
She's laying on her bed looking out at the rain on her window pane. Music BLASTS through her room. Demonica comes to stand in the doorway. She calls out to her, but is drowned out by the music. Demonica goes over and turns the volume down.

DEMONICA

Hey, man. I'm callin' you!

She goes over to sit on the bed.

DEMONICA

Oh, so, it's like that, huh?

Angel keeps her eyes on a raindrop on the window as it smashes into another and forms a bigger drop, then smashes into another...

DEMONICA

Do ya think Mr. Black is hot?

ANGEL

DEMONICA

I do. I wonder if he's set to wearing those tight pants. I mean, I'm not against that or anything, but you've gotta let it breathe sometimes...

Angel curls up into the fetal position.

DEMONICA

Is this the silent treatment or the cold shoulder?

Lightning crashes.

Demonica sighs and gets up to leave. She turns the stereo back up and closes the door behind her.

INT. J.T. MARLIN LEFT CORRIDOR – DAY
Students are crowded around the bulletin board. Amongst them are Lucy, Ricky, Harmonizing Girl and of course Angel and Demonica. LUCY gets there first.

LUCY

What? This-this-this is a mistake! Surely, this is a typo! Is that White-Out?

She runs off.

LUCY
(yelling)

MR.BLAAAAAAAAAACK!

Ricky approaches.

RICKY

Yes. YES!

He walks away singing.

RICKY

I'm a wild and an untamed thing, I'm a bee with a deadly sting...

Angel and Demonica approach at the same time, bumping into each other. They give each other kind of a stare down and then turns their attention to the sheet of paper.

Split Screen:

The tip of Demonica's finger as it traces down the page; Angel's eyes leading down the page

They reach "Magenta" at the same time. It reads...

...

...

...

Sandrine Marx

Sandrine Marx?

DEMONICA
Who the fuck is Sandrine Marx?

A girl appears, her hair in pig tails and a goofy grin on her face. She reads the paper and smiles harder.

SANDRINE

Yes! I totally believe in dragons now!

EXT. HISCOCK STREET – DAY
Angel and Demonica walk down the street, both looking at the ground ahead of them. They sigh at the same time.

ANGEL

I'm sorry I was such a baby.

DEMONICA

Aw, it's ok. I'm sorry I was insensitive to your needs.

ANGEL

I guess neither of us getting the part is some kind of lesson, huh?

DEMONICA

Yeah...and it'll be a lesson to those bastards, too.

Angel stops.

ANGEL

What?

DEMONICA

I say, opening night, total chaos. I'm talking severe sabotage. Whaddya say? Partners?

She holds out her hand. Angel looks at it for a minute.

ANGEL

Oh, what the hell.

She takes her hand and they skip down the street together.

End Credits:

Credits Roll over various scenes of the play as "Hot Patootie" plays. At the end, the cast takes a bow. When they rise to stand, two masked figures dressed in black ASSAULT them with silly string.

Fade to static.