Mr. Blackwell Knows Best

Let me set the scene for you…

INT. OFFICE – DAY

An endless labyrinth of cubicles each decked out in various levels of retro pop-culture knick-knacks. This is what happens when Corporate America collides with nerdom.

O’NEILL and HICCUPS casually toss a nerf football back and forth in full blown procrastination mode.

O’NEILL

I seriously just passed the hell out. Totally dead to the world.

HICCUPS

No way.

O’NEILL

I know. Kinda pathetic.

HICCUPS

Not at all, man. Sometimes we all need—

THE FUNK (O.S.)

What’s you guys up to?

INNER O’NEILL

Just solving world peace.

THE FUNK bounces her way towards Hiccup and O’Neill trade mark stench trailing behind her.

Hiccups immediately perks up. He stops throwing the football and focuses all of his attention on The Funk.

HICCUPS

Just shooting the shit. You?

THE FUNK

Absolutely nothing. It’s way too boring over there. Aaron’s sick and Max has been in a meeting for like forever.

(pause)

Oh! Did you see the Golden Globes?

HICCUPS

Yeah. My girlfriend lives for those shows.

THE FUNK

(To O’Neill)

Did you?

O’NEILL
No, I—

THE FUNK

(interrupting)

Why am I even asking? You so don’t watch those things.

INNER O’NEILL

Of course not. I’ve got the womens sports only cable package.

THE FUNK

So Eva was wearing like the most amazing dress ever. Floor length. Sheer black. Swooping neckline.

HICCUPS

Sounds nice.

THE FUNK

Beyond nice. I think it was Vera Wong.

O’Neill does a quick double take.

INNER O’NEILL

Wong? Survey says… Wrong.

THE FUNK

I’d kill for a Vera Wong. She’s like an absolute genius.

HICCUPS

Uh-huh.

INNER O’NEILL

C’mon O’Neill. Fight the urge.

THE FUNK

And I totally have the shoulders to pull off a Wong too.

INNER O’NEILL

There’s no need to correct her…

THE FUNK

Wong loves to do a-lines and everyone knows you totally have to have narrow shoulders to make an a-line work.

(To O’Neill)

Like you’d never be able to wear a Wong. Your shoulders are way too huge. You’ve got like man shoulders.

INNER O’NEILL

Oh hell’s no.

O’NEILL

It’s Wang.

THE FUNK

What?

O’NEILL

Wang. It’s Vera Wang.

THE FUNK

It’s Wong. I think I would know. I actually wear dresses.

The Funk shoots a look at Hiccups for validation.

HICCUPS

Um… She’s actually right, dude. It’s Wang.

THE FUNK

(annoyed)

Whatever.

(pause)

I’ve got work to do.

The Funk storms off in a huff and a small triumphant smirk crosses O’Neill’s face.

INNER O’NEILL

Score one for the dyke in hoodies with the broad shoulders.

It's in the Genes...

Let me set the scene for you...

INT. CHUCK N’ RALLY – DAY

An x-mas light encrusted frat bar, semi packed with a post-college, “I can still do keg stands on a weeknight” crowd.

O’NEILL and POMS hang out in a back booth working their way through a basket of wings and beers.

Poms is the exact negative of O’Neill. Double zero, manicure that matches the pedicure, and an “I live at the tanning salon” skin tone. The only thing they happen to share is the same DNA.

O’NEILL

You let him pay all night?

POMS

Sure. Why not? He offered.

INNER O’NEILL

How are we related again?

O’NEILL

And you don’t see what’s wrong with that?

POMS

He offered.

O’NEILL

Right.

INNER O’NEILL

For starters, let’s talk genetics, shall we?

POMS

I’m not gonna say no. Do you know how much bottle service costs?

INNER O’NEILL

Both 100% Irish. Yet, you’re burnt sienna year around and I manage to turn into a lobster on an overcast day.

O’NEILL

Did you at least tell him you weren’t interested?

POMS

You kidding? Of course not.

INNER O’NEILL

You can find the rhythm and dance to monks chanting and I look like I’m going into seizures.

O’NEILL

How’s that fair?

POMS

Who said anything about fair? Besides, it’s not like I’m gonna see him again.

INNER O’NEILL

You live in Gucci and me in chucks and hoodies…

O’NEILL

Right.

(pause)

You want another round?

POMS

Sure.

O’Neill flags their waitress down and motions for another round.

POMS

You seriously need to lighten up.

O’NEILL

Me?

POMS

Yeah.

INNER O’NEILL

I just don’t get it…

A beat.

Their waitress comes over and places two Irish Car Bombs down in front of O’Neill and Poms. In perfect unison, they drop the shot in glass and chug the entire drink like two Betty Fords drop outs.

O’Neill looks over at Poms and can’t help but smirk.

INNER O’NEILL

Bingo.

Softer Side of Sears

Let me set the scene for you…

INT. LIVING ROOM – MORNING

O’NEILL sprawls out on the couch, semi-buried under a mound of covers. She mindlessly clicks through the channels trying to find something to watch.

A beat.

YELLOW TAIL (O.S.)

I need an opinion.

O’Neill pries herself off of the cushions and puts down the clicker.

O’NEILL

Sure.

Enter YELLOW TAIL. Part Jolly Green Giant. Part mid-western housewife in training. She's not only familiar with but has fully embraced the softer side of Sears.

Yellow Tail whips out a hideous green knitted concoction that vaguely resembles a shirt.

YELLOW TAIL

Just got it today. Thoughts?

INNER O’NEILL

I didn’t know Stevie Wonder designed clothes.

O’NEILL

It’s nice.

YELLOW TAIL

Not too dressy?

INNER O’NEILL

Dressy’s not the adjective I would use.

O’NEILL

For what?

YELLOW TAIL

Just dinner and drinks.

O’Neill shrugs her shoulders.

INNER O’NEILL

Very, very dimly lit bar?

YELLOW TAIL

I’m meeting up with this guy from accounting. Too soon to get all worked up but I’d like to at least wow him a bit.

INNER O’NEILL

Well you’ll definitely wow him. That’s for sure

(Pause)

Maybe the rest of the outfit will offset the puke green hue?

O’NEILL

What else are you wearing?

YELLOW TAIL

Actually, I just got these jeans. Hang on –

Yellow Tail retreats back into her bedroom.

O’Neill stares at the green shirt for a moment or two, analyzing its seizure-inducing doily pattern.

INNER O’NEILL

That has to be the fugliest piece of clothing ever—

Yellow Tail emerges from her bedroom and holds up a pair of tapered, flowered appliquéd mom jeans.

YELLOW TAIL

Wow worthy, right?

INNER O’NEILL

I stand corrected.