Me n' Mona

INT. “NEW YORK BEAT” NEWSPAPER BULLPEN - (MONTAGE) - DAY

A bustling, high pressure, New York workplace. In JUMPCUTS, powering through it, is a force of nature. But that’s not how MONA GLEASON, early 30’s, comes across. To win over people, she presents as sheer serenity. She connects with humans on a whole different frequency, above the fray, with a whisper.

She is very, very pregnant.

MONA

(Re: a resume)

Lay on the sweets, okay, but skip the frosting. Like cheesecake.

Another cubicle, another EMPLOYEE -

MONA

As in - “I’m a team player. But you won’t be seeing me ‘til the game’s over.” Get it?

- And ANOTHER. Mona is changing lives.

MONA

No - like, go BIG. You are THE GREATEST. With me now...

She’s helping an EMPLOYEE through the emotional toll of packing up his desk. She’s consoling ANOTHER who is upset.

GIL (V.O.)

When you’re dead, nobody cares how hard you worked to get there. They only care where you got. I know that, not because I’m dead. It’s because of how hard I’ve worked to get nowhere.

GIL PETRY’s cubicle is in a state of chaos. So is Gil, mid-20’s, ever beleaguered. His current overwhelming burden: the word he’s stuck on in the obituary he’s writing.

GIL (V.O.)

Great men stand on the shoulders of giants.

WU (O.S.)

Petry!

WU is Gil’s harried boss. Mona, beside Wu, beams excitedly.

GIL (V.O.)

I’m on top of midgets.

WU

This is Mona. She’s going to talk you through your...you know.

INT. GIL’S CUBICLE - DAY

LATER. Mona studies Gil’s resume. Gil is studying Mona intently. He’s smitten.

MONA

They’re not looking at your experience. They’re looking at your aura. What’s your aura? Uh -

GIL

Gil. I don’t have an aura. What’s my aura?

MONA

It’s...boom. You’re deep.

(writing)

Deep. And...boom. Invested. And...

GIL

A hard worker.

MONA

Boom. Sharp. Quick study. A go-getter. Intuitive. Honest.

GIL

Boom, boom, boom. Unemployed.

Mona looks up.

GIL

I’ll never get a job again. No one is going to hire me. Ever.

MONA

Optimistic. From here on.

She adds that to her list. Gil is not one to put on a brave face. Mona swallows a sigh, her heart going out to him.

INT. CAR SERVICE SEDAN - DAY

Mona is in the back seat, going over her pages of notes from the sessions.

RADIO NEWSCASTER (V.O.)

...The explosion rocked the mall, killing fourteen and injuring 38 so far. Among the fatalities, the off-duty firefighter who, according to police, discovered the duffle bag -

MONA

Can you - excuse me -

The DRIVER looks in his rearview.

MONA

Change the channel please?

He does - but to another news station.

RADIO NEWSCASTER (V.O.)

...In a statement, Deltoro denies its marketing is directed at minors, and maintains that the inhalant is not addictive. Over 1,700 fatalities are cited in the lawsuit...

Mona takes a deep breath, closes her eyes, and turns to meditation. The newscaster’s voice RECEDES INTO THE DISTANCE.

OFFICE NURSE (O.S.)

...Mona?

INT. DOCTOR’S OFFICE - DAY

Mona, meditating in a waiting room, snaps alert.

OFFICE NURSE

Need a boost?

INT. EXAM ROOM - DAY

ANGLE ON a sheet draped between Mona’s feet, spread by a pair of gurney stirrups. The sheet flips out to reveal:

TREGOR

Hooo boy. Or is it girl? You didn’t hear it from me.

DR. TREGOR is the circus sideshow version of an OB/GYN. He pulls off his latex gloves.

TREGOR

Okay. Get excited. My office in 10.

INT. TREGOR’S OFFICE - DAY

Behind a desk towering with files, Tregor sits, paces, sits. He’s too worked up to stay put. Mona sits across from him.

TREGOR

As in now. Yesterday. As in here it comes. Here come the hormones. Here comes the colostrum. There goes the cervix. You’re engaging, you’re dilating. Your pelvis, it’s popping. Your pelvic floor is dropping. You’re effacing, endorphing. You’re all in. Your whole body, it’s Team Mona, and wow! Mona! This is... wow.

He crouches before her.

TREGOR

I love this part.

He circles back behind his desk and furiously jots notes.

TREGOR

How does it happen. Bang - game on. Friday, 2pm. Go straight to Admitting.

MONA

I’m not in labor.

TREGOR

We’re inducing.

Mona reacts. Gone is her confident demeanor.

MONA

But why?

TREGOR

Time’s up! Overdue!

MONA

- I’m not -

TREGOR

You are!

MONA

But I don’t feel -

TREGOR

In-duuu-siing.

INT. CAR SERVICE SEDAN - NIGHT

MONA’S POV THROUGH THE CAR WINDOW in JUMPCUTS and SLOW MOTION: huddling against the cold, February night are HOMELESS PEOPLE, DRUG DEALERS, urban squalor.

MONA

Do you have kids?

The DRIVER, a West African, checks his rearview mirror, clicks his tongue.

DRIVER

No English.

MONA

Do you let your kids see this? All this?

DRIVER

Sorry, no English.

Mona, anxiously caresses her belly, deep in thought.

INT. MONA'S VESTIBULE - NIGHT

Mona enters her brownstone, finds a package addressed to her.

INT. MONA'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

A section of wall is painted with a mural of a moon and stars, half completed. Brushes and cans of paint await below.

Mona has set aside a section of her small bedroom for a crib and changing table, both mid-assembly. She fits a last piece onto the mobile she just received, clamps the mobile onto the crib railing, and twists its crank to play a LULLABY.

She swells, tearing at the sight. She’s going to be a mother.

A SHOUT O.S. breaks her revelry. Mona moves for the window:

Across the way, the NEIGHBORS in the next building are at their window arguing, the husband berating his wife. In another window, ANOTHER GUY is playing a violent video game, gunning down attackers. ANOTHER is watching a war movie.

Mona snaps her curtains closed, shutting out the world. She sinks to her bed, contemplating the little haven where her baby will soon be.

INT. BELLWETHER, EASTER AND STIMP CORPORATE OFFICE - ESTABLISH - DAY

A high-end, ultra-contemporary, think tank vibe.

INT. STIMP’S OFFICE - DAY

Name plaques are projected onto each office’s glass partition. As in: “Martin Stimp, Chief Executive Officer.”

MARTIN STIMP, late 40’s, at his standing desk, scrolls through a spreadsheet on a massive screen. This is an aggressive powerbroker, skilled at affecting the gentle touch.

STIMP

How are we feeling?

MONA

Great. Pretty awful.

STIMP

You mean ready. Mm.

Mona, standing before him, forces a smile. There’s some connection between these two, albeit guarded.

STIMP

Like you’re ready when you notice the truck that’s about to hit you.

Mona isn’t smiling anymore. Stimp, oblivious, hums an indecipherable song to himself as he scrolls. Mona’s gaze drifts:

Stimp’s day bag on the floor. In it is a bottle of testosterone supplements.

STIMP

There’s wrap out on Carmichael.

MONA

Just the Step Out reports.

STIMP

We can hand off Marvin Capital. Get with Lukasiewicz on who’s up for that.

MONA

I’ve already briefed Hogan.

STIMP

Mm. We’ll have to see about Hogan. Where’s “The Beat” at?

MONA

Done. Sort of.

Stimp looks at her.

MONA

One last circle back.

Stimp regards her. Mona adjusts, readying for a dressing down. Stimp decides to drop it.

STIMP

Mm. I’m going to pull Fleisher from Caravan. I’d like you on that.

MONA

I thought that’s starting first quarter?

STIMP

March. Yep. Mid.

MONA

I won’t be back yet.

Stimp looks at her.

MONA

We talked about seven weeks.

STIMP

Let’s have you back.

MONA

But -

STIMP

Just a few sooner. Should work out. Check the printer.

Stimp returns to his screen, clicks an icon. Mona is struck.

STIMP

Inducing, so efficient. Why can’t we come up with a corporate version of that?

INT. PRINTER ROOM - DAY

Pages headed with “Caravan” churn out of a printer. Mona watches them pile up, troubled thoughts mounting with them.

INT. MONA’S OFFICE - DAY

Mona sits, lost in those thoughts, contemplating her desktop:

She’s scrolling through old emails - “2nite?,” “that song :),” “3nite?,” Lots of “XXX’s” and “OOO’s” except the last - “Working late sorry.”

They’re all from Stimp.

She snaps out of her stare, closes her computer and grabs that stack of Caravan documents. On her way out, she dumps it in the trash.

INT. “NEW YORK BEAT" WAITING AREA

Mona sits at the RECEPTIONIST’s desk, looking with concern:

Every few desks in the bullpen beyond the glass is peopled with EMPLOYEES clearing out. Emotions are high. A MAN is angrily emptying his drawers into a box. ANOTHER is sitting at his desk with his box in his lap, looking shellshocked. A WOMAN is embracing ANOTHER, both in tears.

RECEPTIONIST

Okay?

Mona recovers, composes a smile, heads in.

INT. “NEW YORK BEAT” CONFERENCE ROOM - DAY

Mona sits across from Gil, typing notes into her laptop. Gil is pacing.

GIL

It’s not a “story.” It’s a man’s life. His beating heart. You want the reader to hold hands with the man, to cry for the man. So Christ, I mean, I turned it around when he asked. Half the time, you get half as good, that’s all.

Mona is staring at him.

GIL

What.

MONA

So you pride yourself on your strong work ethic.

GIL

That’s right - “Strong work ethic.”

Mona takes his prompt and types.

MONA

And you’re good at taking direction.

GIL

Great, yes.

MONA

You can turn it around fast. You can turn it out top quality.

GIL

Yes, that’s - yes.

MONA

Great. Take a look.

Mona turns her laptop around for him to review what she’s been writing:

Resistant to direction. Works slowly. Attitude!!

GIL

What...What?

MONA

I work for an outplacement services provider.

GIL

Sure, Bellwether, Easter and- -

MONA

- Easter and Stimp. Only there is no Bellwether. There’s no Easter.

GIL

Is there a Stimp?

MONA

Oh, there’s a Stimp alright. You want to know how it works?

GIL

Yeah?

MONA

Your company is downsizing you.

GIL

He’s canning me.

MONA

They bring me in to coach you on how to get your next job.

GIL

Yeah?

MONA

You get coaching. They get a report.

GIL

What kind of report?

MONA

On why they fired you. In case you decide to sue them.

Gil sits.

GIL

What kind of report.

Mona searches her laptop, finds a file.

MONA

(reading)

“Petry’s work is consistently lacking. He struggles with generating content, and it’s rare that his assignments arrive without the need for major- --”

Gil snaps up Mona’s computer to read it himself.

GIL

“...for major editing. When challenged about his performance, he grows -?“ Fucking horse shit, “defensive?” Really? Really??

Mona coaxes her computer back. She packs it and her papers into an overnight suitcase, alongside her clothing.

MONA

I’m sorry. I am.

GIL

Who do you think you are? You, them - you’re monsters!

MONA

I am. I was.

GIL

You can’t just - What are you showing me this?

(then:)

Listen, you’ve gotta help me here.

MONA

I know where this is heading.

GIL

Sue them. They deserve to be sued!

MONA

Why? Because you’re angry? Because you’re hurt? They hurt you and now they deserve to be hurt?

Mona pauses at the door with her roller suitcase.

MONA

I showed you because it has to stop. All of it.

She exits. Gil blinks.

INT. GIL'S CUBICLE - DAY

Gil dejectedly clears his desk, filling a box with his belongings. Behind him are others who Mona coached before, dejectedly carrying off their own boxes.

Gil pauses at a photo celebrating a softball game with his workmates.

WU

Best of luck, mister!

Gil can’t stomach looking his way.

GIL

Thanks.

WU

Those Stimp sessions. Any help?

GIL

Let’s say they’re getting me on my way.

WU

Least we could do.

GIL

You’ve done plenty.

Wu slaps Gil on the back and heads off. Gil finds another photo celebrating the same game with Wu, drops it in the trash.

INT. OFFICE HALLWAY - DAY

Gil, carrying his box, pauses in front of the elevators:

Mona with her roller bag is at the end of the hallway on her phone, her back to Gil.

MONA

He can play whatever station he wants. No, I need a car now. Hello?

She hangs up, deflates.

GIL

You alright?

Mona turns to see Gil.

INT. GIL’S CAR - DAY

A beat-up, old two-door. Gil is uncomfortable driving - because of the icy streets, and because Mona is still oddly on edge.

RADIO NEWSCASTER (V.O.)

...The Governor denies any links between the decision and the donation. The assailant was able to board the plane six days after the pardon. There are no known surviv- -

Mona turns off the radio. Awkward silence.

MONA

It has to stop. All of it.

Gil looks at Mona, trying to calibrate.

MONA

The Governor. The assailant. The donor. The polluter who’s poisoning the gunman. Who’s suing the auto maker who’s causing the wildfires. Your boss, my boss, his boss. My doctor.

GIL

So what has to stop?

MONA

Testosterone. It’s poison.

(beat)

There - pull over.

Gil abruptly pulls over, prompting a car to HONK.

GIL

Fuck off.

Mona studies him.

GIL

Sorry. Got it. Has to stop.

MONA

The closer I got to today. The more it’s like...whenever someone is aggressive. When they manipulate. When they’re selfish or lie. It’s the same thing. The same thing inside that pulls a trigger. Or starts a war. Or date rapes.

That last one hit home for Mona. She collects herself.

GIL

Did you - did he - I mean, is that how you..?

Gil studies her. She grabs her bag and climbs out. Gil looks past her.

GIL

You live at a hospital?

MONA

I’m giving birth. Or “them,” they are. Giving birth. I guess.

GIL

By yourself?

She holds -

MONA

My baby deserves better.

Slams the door - reopens it -

MONA

Thanks for the lift.

- Slams the door. Gil hesitates, throws his car into gear. He stops at the next light, looks in his rearview mirror:

Mona enters the hospital.

Cars HONK behind Gil - the light has turned green. He’s about to curse them out, but stops himself this time. He leans on the wheel -

EXT. STREET - DAY

Gil makes a U-turn, pulling into the hospital parking garage.

INT. HOSPITAL HALLWAYS - DAY

Gil plows his way through the halls, following signs for “Labor and Delivery.”

INT. LABOR AND DELIVERY UNIT - DAY

Gil hovers at a NURSES’ station, unable to attract attention.

GIL

‘Scuse me -

A midwife, powering past, stops. This is NANCY, a drill sergeant.

GIL

I’m looking for a patient, Mona, uhm -

NANCY

You the father?

GIL

Uhm. No!

NANCY

Sure. Do you love her?

GIL

I- -

NANCY

Never mind. Wait over there. And next time get the girl’s last name.

Nancy marches off. Gil takes a seat.

INT. HALLWAY - DAY

Dr. Tregor is on his cellphone

TREGOR

Ask them for a seat in the lounge ...Yes, as in “induce” with a capital “I.” I’ll be there before six...

INT. BIRTHING ROOM - DAY

TREGOR (O.S.)

Promise - showered, shaved and shellacked...No, baby, we’ll save that for later...

Mona, in a hospital gown and in bed, is getting checked over by Nancy, the midwife. They can hear Dr. Tregor from the hallway. Mona is tense, and her blood pressure reading shows it. Nancy tries again, pumping up the arm band.

NANCY

Breathe.

MONA

I’m breathing.

NANCY

Breathe for two.

Mona closes her eyes and breathes.

MONA

Which two am I breathing for?

Nancy smiles, releases the blood pressure valve.

NANCY

If he misses tonight, there’s always brunch tomorrow. You can treat.

Mona studies Nancy, coming to trust her.

NANCY

It’s Friday. “Inducing night.”

Nancy checks her IV bag.

MONA

What’s in that?

NANCY

Saline, fentanyl- --

TREGOR

Where’s our titrate?

Dr. Tregor has entered.

TREGOR

We should be up to 20 by now. Pitocin, pitocin. Who’s tracking today? Is it Leonid? We need attending. Leonid! W.T.H.?

He exits, berating the nurses O.S. Mona’s eyes are wide now.

MONA

Testosterone.

NANCY

Sorry?

MONA

I can’t do it.

NANCY

Wait. What -

Mona pulls the IV out of her arm and sits up.

NANCY

Hang on!

MONA

I can’t do it. I won’t.

NANCY

Won’t what?

MONA

I’m not giving birth.

Mona stands, wobbly. Nancy moves to steady her.

NANCY

You have to get back in bed -

MONA

I’m not ready.

Mona pushes past Nancy and heads for the door.

INT. HALLWAY - DAY

Gil rises as Mona, in her hospital gown, approaches in an opioid-induced fog.

MONA

The world’s not ready. Not for my baby.

Mona continues to the elevators.

NANCY

Mona!

TREGOR

What’s going on?

The nurses at the station are on their feet. Mona steps into an elevator.

TREGOR

What’s going on??

INT. ELEVATOR - DAY

MUZAC. Mona shares the ride with a CHASIDIC FAMILY and an ORDERLY. They steal glances at her.

INT. HOSPITAL ENTRYWAY - DAY

The orderly holds the door for Mona as she shakily exits the elevator. The Chasidic family peer their necks to watch her head for the exit:

The back of Mona’s gown is open. She crosses past the front desk, its PHONE RINGING. The SECURITY GUARD ambles over to answer it.

INT. HALLWAY - DAY

Dr. Tregor, in the BG, is huddled with the group of nurses at their station, anxiously admonishing them. A nurse in the FG is on the phone.

HOSPITAL NURSE 1

No, she has not been released. Yes, now!

Gil moves to a window and peers out. Nancy joins him.

THEIR POV: Below, Mona exits the building and gets into a cab idling in front of the hospital. As it pulls away, the security guard rushes out the entrance - too late.

NANCY

She’s got balls.

Nancy moves off.