THE GODSHEAD INCIDENTAL Transcript: “Episode 4: out of Doors
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THE GODSHEAD INCIDENTAL Transcript: “Episode 4: Out of Doors” An audio drama by Cara Ehlenfeldt and Amy Giacomucci Preroll: AMY GIACOMUCCI: Hey everyone! Amy here with a quick note up front. This episode is about the fear of going outside and interacting with other people. We wrote it a few years ago, but now that we’re releasing it during a global pandemic, the fear of going outside has gotten a little bit close to home. So this episode might be something to save for later. We’ve included more detailed content warnings with time stamps so you can go take a look at the episode description and decide what’s best for you. Good news is, episode 5 takes place entirely inside, so, look forward to that? Either way, I hope that the next episode finds us in better times. In the words of our unflappable Therese, stay well. Scene One: Ext. Apartment Building Alley (The sound of a part-full trashbag being carried through a city alley. The occasional car drives down the street nearby. Em opens an outdoor recycling bin and throws a half-full bag inside onto recycling and glass bottles, then begins sorting through some envelopes by the open trash can. Quick footsteps accompanied by the jangling of keys approach.) TERVIS (Christopher Wilson): What are you doing—hey! (As Tervis approaches Em yelps, and the trash can lid slams shut.) EM (Ishani Kanetkar): Don’t do that! TERVIS: (terrified; his voice considerably rises in pitch:) Were you gonna punch me? EM: Tervis. You are a grown man who appeared behind me out of nowhere, in an alley, while I’m taking out the trash, alone, at night. Of course I was going to punch you. TERVIS: Yeah, that’s on me. EM: What are you even doing out here? TERVIS: The mail’s gone. EM: You mean the ads that have been accumulating on the front steps since before I got here? (She brandishes a handful of junk mail at him, and drops it into the recycling.) They’re on their way to a better place now. TERVIS: You—you can’t just throw out other people’s mail! EM: (singsong and mocking) It‘s addressed to Resident. TERVIS: (stammering) I, well I, it—I have a system! EM: What system? You let so much mail pile up that when my dad came by to pick me up for dinner, he circled the block three times because he thought the building was unoccupied. I had to say I lived across the street to get him to stop. (She drops yet another armful of mail into the trash.) TERVIS: Stop that! Those could be important! EM: (sarcastic) Don’t tell me you’re worried about offending the God of Junk Mail. 2 (Tervis begins shushing her at the word “God”.) TERVIS: (whispering) Give me those. And stop talking about G-O-D stuff out here where anyone can hear you! EM: How is spelling a three-letter word more discreet? TERVIS: It works for dogs and children! Now give me those. (Em hands over the mail to Tervis, who takes it and immediately walks away towards the building.) EM: (with irritation) Okay. But… can I ask you something? (Tervis pauses in the half-open door.) TERVIS: (still whispering) About what? EM: It’s… more god stuff. (Before Em’s even done the sentence, Tervis opens the door the rest of the way and steps through.) TERVIS: No. (The door slams shut. Em jiggles the knob fruitlessly.) EM: Really? (yelling) You can’t lock me out, Tervis! I live here! I have keys.... (pause while she empties her pockets) somewhere… (She bangs on the door.) EM: Tervis! (MUSIC: The Godshead Incidental Theme by Irene Zhong plays) VOICE OVER (Amy Giacomucci): Episode Four: Out of Doors. (The theme music fades in to How Can I Help My Boy?, a tranquil synth composition.) 3 Scene Two: Int. Incidental office (The music continues under the advice letter:) HOW CAN I HELP MY BOY? (V.O.): Dear Maddy, My wonderful son is having trouble making friends at school. He’s a sweet and intelligent boy, but he has a sensitive side that makes it hard for him to get along with his classmates. I’ve tried encouraging him to talk to other students, signed him up for extracurriculars, and spoken to his advisers. I’ve even made a targeted effort to become friends with other parents whose children are at the same university. He’s said he’s perfectly happy with the way things are, but recently he’s been changing the subject when I ask about his social life. I worry that he may be experiencing some kind of bullying. What can I do to get my son an active social circle? How Can I Help My Boy? (The music fades out, revealing the sounds of a moderately busy office. Em folds the letter, groaning to herself, as steady footsteps approach, get closer, and then start to pass.) EM: E.B.! (Em gets out of her chair and half-sprints to catch up before joining her walking down the hallway.) EM: Hello, sorry, excuse me, uh, but do you have a minute to talk later today? E.B.: I’m in meetings all day, dear. Are you free tomorrow at 11:30? EM: Umm, I think my mom wants to meet for lunch, but— E.B.: Oh, no, I’m free at 11:30 p.m. EM: 11:30… at night? I… I could do that, probably? E.B.: (realising that’s a ridiculous time for a meeting) No, you can’t, it’s late, and you’re young. Why don’t we have the Copycat pencil you in for sometime later this week? Thursday should… mmm, well, no, there’s the shareholder meetings… (she begins muttering to herself) EM: It’s fine, it’s not important, I’ll just wait until– (E.B.’s footsteps stop abruptly. Em stumbles.) 4 EM: –it’s less busy. E.B.: (stern) Em. Dear. If you wait for things to be convenient it’ll never happen. Schedule. A meeting. (Door opening.) EM: No, it’s really— E.B.: (Calling into the now-open office) Ferdinand! COPYCAT: (unimpressed) Mrooow. E.B.: Maddy Monday needs to schedule an appointment. EM: It’s okay, I’ll, um, stop by. Later. When you’re out of your meeting. COPYCAT: (sneezes) EM: Thank you. (EM returns to her desk and plops down into her rolling desk chair. As she sits, the diligent typing from the next desk over stops.) THERESE: What’s that face for? EM: Faking it through another day of gainful employment. THERESE: No, not that. There’s something worrying you. You’re crinkling your forehead. EM: It’s nothing. THERESE: Are you sure? EM: Yeah. (Therese resumes typing.) EM: Maybe. (beat) There is something I’ve been wondering. (Therese stops typing.) THERESE: Hm? 5 EM: How do you make people tell you things? THERESE: Maddy— EM: Em. THERESE: You don’t make people tell you things. People want to be listened to. All you have to do is open yourself up to hearing them, and people will open themselves to you. EM: That’s a great sentiment and all, but I meant more like, how do you, Therese, lead investigative reporter at The Godshead Incidental, get people to give you information. THERESE: Ohhhhh. What you’re talking about is an investigation, Maddy, and that is a completely different story. What are you getting yourself into? EM: (Nervously lying) …nothing? No secrets here. Just, you know, getting to the bottom of the conspiracy that exists under our very noses. (Pen uncapping, paper rustling.) THERESE: Em, under your reserved exterior, you have a whole world of stories bursting to get out. I should give you the details of that empathetic storytelling workshop coming up at the community center. (She alternates between writing by hand and typing on her keyboard as she speaks, her voice distracted and cheerful) As for your question, I get information the way anyone gets information. EM: You… sabotage them? (hopeful) Like blackmail? THERESE: (laughing) No, Em, we aren’t all criminal masterminds. All you have to do is know a person well enough to understand what they lack, and give it to them. EM: (slightly disappointed) Like, bribery? I was kind of hoping for bribery, but using as little actual money as possible. THERESE: (not entirely listening) In most cases, you don’t have to give people what they actually ask for. You figure them out and give them the thing they wished they needed. EM: Ideally I would do this without ever having to get to know anyone. THERESE: Oh, it’s easy! Even a cursory internet search can tell you more about a person than they even know about themselves. 6 (She types at her keyboard, as though she’s typing into a search engine.) THERESE: Look at you, Em. You haven’t changed your profile picture on any social media website in four years. EM: Has it been that long? Wait, how did you— THERESE: (entirely offhanded) Which means in that time, no one’s taken a picture of you that truly feels like you. You don’t want anyone to think they can know you, and that means no pictures in your byline, no after-work drinks, and certainly no workplace confidantes. But you— EM: Stop. (slight awkward pause) THERESE: Sorry. Was it something I said? EM: (trying to save face) … I, um… stop… so I can focus… on my work.