Mini Episode 8 Transcript
Mini Episode 8 - September 30th, 2016
by Lauren Shippen
[sfx: click of recorder & footsteps]
Mark: (talking into a phone) We should be home by tomorrow, just in time for- I’m not really sure actually. Some weird little town a few miles off the highway. Literally a one-stoplight town, but there weren’t any good rest stops so- Yeah, yeah, exactly like that. God, I forgot about that place. No, he’s here, he’s- oh, he’s right here actually. He was getting food. I know, I’m watching out for that, Joanie. But he really is doing whatever I say. It’s not like there are more phones he can smash. Yeah, I know. Yes, okay. Yes, Joanie, I promise. I know. I miss you too. Okay, we should get on the road. But I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? The day after at the latest- no, I know, but we’re driving an absolute gas guzzler and we have to stop every five minutes for gas- yes, I’m getting enough sleep, that’s why- No, I’m not letting him drive! Okay, okay sis. Yes, okay. Bye.
[sfx: hanging up payphone]
Mark: You good?
Damien: Got the burgers.
Mark: Great. Let’s get back on the road.
[sfx: walking and getting into car]
Mark: Alright, what tunes are you in the mood for-
Damien: No, no music.
Mark: Okay. Are you alright?
Damien: I’m fine.
Mark: You just seem surlier than normal.
Mark: Okay then. We’ll just sit here in silence. Great.
Damien: Stop it.
Mark: Stop what?
Damien: Making me want to talk.
Mark: I’m not meaning to, I’m just- I’m bored, okay? You may have been a complete tool before but at least you were entertaining. Wow, tough crowd.
Damien: Just shut up.
Mark: Nope, don’t think I will. Because I don’t have to.
Damien: You’re loving this aren’t you?
Mark: Actually, I’m really not. If you don’t want to talk, I don’t want to make you talk. But I can’t help wanting what I want. You know that better than anyone.
Damien: It’s different being on the other side of it.
Mark: No shit.
Damien: Ugh, would you stop?
Mark: I told you, I’m not trying to do anything!
Damien: You want me to talk to you- to tell you things, to tell you the truth.
Mark: I can’t help that I’m naturally curious, Damien.
Damien: I’m recording you.
Damien: You want me to be honest, there you go.
Mark: What do you mean you’re recording me, recording me on what?
[sfx: Damien taking recorder out of his pocket)
Mark: Is that…is that a tape in there? Where on earth did you get that?
Damien: The pawn shop back in town. I saw it in the window. It seemed like a good idea at the time. But then you had to go and pull the truth out of me-
Mark: Oh, please, I didn’t do anything. I’m sorry, I’m confused - why are you recording me?
Damien: In case.
Mark: In case of what?
Damien: In case you do something to me. I want evidence.
Mark: Wow. That’s a little hypocritical, isn’t it? What do you think I’m going to do?
Damien: I don’t know, Mark:, but you’re the one with all the power here.
Mark: You seem to be doing just fine. You figured out how to be aware of it much faster than I did-
Damien: You don’t know what this is like-
Mark: Whoa, whoa, excuse me? I know exactly what this is like. You did the same thing to me, remember? For three months. It’s been one fucking week for you, Damien. Chill out.
Damien: Chill out? You took the only thing in my life from me. You have no idea what it’s like to live with that power for your whole life and then have it yanked out of you.
Mark: Look, I’m sorry that whatever happened has happened but you’re fine. You’re alive, I’m alive, Joan will figure out the rest.
Damien: No. No way am I seeing her.
Mark: Yes, you fucking are. You’ll be lucky if she’s willing to help you at all after everything you did.
Damien: She should be grateful.
Mark: So this is really just your personality, right? Even without your ability, you’re just like this? This is who you are? Honestly?
Damien: I have no fucking clue. Don’t you get that? Don’t you get that that’s why I’m so scared? Fuck, stop making me tell you things.
Mark: Whatever way you spin it, Damien, you kidnapped me.
Damien: Yeah, yeah, you sound like a broken record.
Mark: That makes two of us. God, I don’t know how you’ve lived with this for so long. I’m not trying to make you want stuff but I can feel my brain reaching out for yours like a virus. Like it just has to infect whatever is closest.
Damien: Gee, thanks.
Damien: Calling my ability a virus? Real nice.
Mark: It doesn’t feel like that for you?
Damien: It doesn’t feel like anything for me anymore.
Mark: I’m sorry. But you know what I mean - before…you- you liked it?
Damien: Of course I liked it. I got whatever I wanted. Mostly.
Mark: And it didn’t feel weird to you, planting thoughts in people’s heads like that?
Damien: No. It felt…good. It’s better than anything.
Mark: Okay, well agree to disagree on that. I can think of at least ten other things that are better than this.
Damien: Like what?
Mark: Food? Scotch? Sex? Getting to a really good part in a book? I mean, I don’t know, Damien:, there's a lot of good things in life. You don’t feel that way at all, do you?
Damien: I’ve never been one for fancy food - it’s just…sustenance. What’s the point.
Damien: And I don’t- ugh- but scotch is good. I like scotch. And books, but- Stop. Just. Stop.
Mark: Damien, I’m not-
Damien: I know, you’re just curious. You want me to open up - god, “open up”, what a saying, huh? That’s what it feels like; like you’re reaching into my brain and prying me open and poking at me and digging your nails into my weak spots. It feels violent.
Mark: I know what it fucking feels like, Damien. Don’t you talk to me about being opened up and looked at. I’m sorry, okay? I don’t want to do this, but I can’t turn it off. I’m not- I don’t have the same control I had before. I’m doing the best I can.
Damien: Sure you are.
Mark: Jesus Christ, Damien, I don’t owe you anything. You’ve had no qualms about getting me to tell you every fucking detail of my time at The AM and since last Friday all I’ve found out about you is that your real name is Robert Gorham and you are desperately lonely. Give me a fucking break.
Damien: I’m sorry.
Mark: And are you saying that just because I want you to apologize or do you actually mean it? Be honest.
Damien: No. I don’t mean it.
Mark: Great. Just great.
Damien: But I do want you to forgive me.
Mark: You want me to forgive you, but you’re not sorry? How does that work exactly?
Damien: I wanted information about The AM and I got it. You seemed fine with it at the time.
Mark: Because you wanted me to be. How do you not get this by now?
Damien: How do you not get it? Look, I know you’re curious about me, Mark, so let me do what you want and tell you- I’ve lived my whole life with people doing what I want and then instantly regretting it. Do you know what that’s like? People having buyer’s remorse about you?
Damien: Let me tell you, it gets old really fast. People tend to run for the hills. Like my parents. So, no, I don’t enjoy meeting people or sex or having friends or anything else you people do because I never know if it’s real or not. I don’t feel bad about making you tell me things because the world rejected me first. It didn’t give me a fucking inch to figure out who I am or how I fit into things so I had to carve out my own space. And if that means carving into someone else’s brains, that’s what I have to do. I got tired of wondering what people actually mean, what they actually want so I decided a long time ago that it doesn’t matter. If people don’t want me with them, then I will be above them. The power matters - it’s the one thing in my life that’s always been real. The power is mine and mine alone and it never lies. And you took it from me and made me tell you all of this crap and now I hate you for it. Well, you wanted the truth. Now you've got it. Happy?
[sfx: click of recorder]