New Orleans
1830
Madame LaLaurie’s garden
(chickens clucking)
(horse neighing)
Mme LaLaurie: (to her daughter) Why I had to leave Paris, the jewel of civilization, return to this shit hole, I'll never understand. (chickens clucking) (to her slave) Boy, don't set those down. They go upstairs. No. The yellow one. Brown. Brown like your skin. (chickens clucking)
Borquita: Well, Father had to attend to his business.
Mme LaLaurie: They have no inner light. Look at them. They have no intellect to engage with. I fear my restless mind will become feeble.
(Borquita sighs)
Borquita: You have us, your daughters.
Mme LaLaurie: You have just made my point abundantly clear. I need inspiration.
(chickens clucking)
Borquita: I'm sure you'll find your métier, Mother. I hear crochet is popular in New Orleans.
Mme LaLaurie: Oh. God.
(A man catches a chicken.)
Man: Wha?
Borquita: Mother?! (chicken clucking, Borquita panting loudly) Do I have to bother with this… thing?
Mme LaLaurie: Till the kitchen help arrive tomorrow, we gonna have to cook if we want to eat.
Borquita: Do I have to kill it?
Mme LaLaurie: Put the bird down here. (clucking) Shh.
Borquita: Oh, I can't. Please don't make me.
Mme LaLaurie: Give me that cleaver. How hard can it be to chop the head off a chicken?
Borquita: You've never done it yourself, Mother. You've always had the cooks do your dirty work.
(Madame La Laurie cuts the head off a chicken herself. She enjoys feeling the blood pulse out of it as it dies.)
Attic
(screaming)
Mme LaLaurie: What the hell is going on?
(A slave's fallen and cut open his leg and it's bleeding badly.)
Man: I'm sorry, ma'am. I tried to stack the boxes up myself. I'm hurt bad.
Mme LaLaurie: Let me see what we can do here.
Man: (groaning) Oh! (gasping and panting) (screaming) (crying)
(door creaks open) (footsteps approaching)
Borquita: Should I run and find a doctor?
Mme LaLaurie: No. I can handle this. You go on downstairs and cook up that chicken. (man groans) Let me let me see if maybe we have some rags up here. Here you are. Here, bind this up right quick. (groaning) We want to stop that blood. Come on.
(She smothers him, strings him up and begins her torture.)
Mme LaLaurie: I think I'm going to like it here.
-[OPENING CREDITS]-
Cemetery
Fiona: Our coven mourns. After facing so many trials, defending ourselves against onslaught. Forging enemies into friends. The witches of Miss Robichaux's Academy have fought for their lives, and won. And so, it is with great sadness we must say good-bye to Nan who fell in the tub.
Marie: Amen!
Myrtle: If only Misty Day were here to bring the poor girl back.
Cordelia: I have to do something before one more of our girls dies.
Myrtle: Your mother's Pol Pot in Givenchy. What can be done?
Cordelia: Whatever is necessary.
Madison: Misty's probably twirled her way to the Everglades by now. Don't bother.
(They see a car pull up.)
Queenie: Now! The gardener said you'd be here.
Fiona: You're alive?
Queenie: (to Marie) Bitch, you left me for dead. (She has Madame La Laurie on a leash.)
Marie: Oh, girl, I thought you were. Oh, get your ass over here.
Mme LaLaurie: (spits in Marie's face) That's for dismembering me.
Marie: (slaps Mme LaLaurie) And that's for coming back. (to Queenie) I thought I told you to put her white head in the trash.
Queenie: I had my own ideas.
Cordelia: Queenie.
Zoe: You put her back together.
Kyle: No scars.
Queenie: If I'd have done you, you wouldn't look like you'd been jammed through a blender.
Cordelia: The most important thing is that you're safe.
Fiona: None of us are safe! Why can't you understand that? You are coming with us. Okay, the funeral's over. Say your prayers as you exit.
Mme LaLaurie: I'm not going anywhere with any of y'all. I've been suffering the tortures of the damned. I'm not taking another step!
(They leave the cemetery without discovering Misty.)
Delphi Trust
David: Oh! The man in the Cornrow City shooting will be identified as Jack Murphy, a homeless veteran with PTSD. When the Orleans Police finish with their investigation, that'll be the name on the report.
Harrison: So, my son will have no eulogy, then? He'll have no funeral, no wake, no… fond remembrance?
David: What Hank did was foolhardy. But his purpose was righteous.
Harrison: What he did was set off a storm. Those witches used a spell, I'm sure of it. We need those witches to get the government off our backs. I'll pay them if I have to, more money than they ever imagined. When we're healthy again, they'll pay us back with their lives.
David: I'll set a meeting.
Miss Robichaux's Academy
(Mme LaLaurie performs manicures on Fiona and Marie.)
Mme LaLaurie: (voice over) History will tell you-- not that anyone today gives a royal you-know-what-- that I was born to two prominent members of New Orleans society.
Fiona: (phone) A sit-down at a neutral location of our choosing. Ow! Jesus! No, the meeting has to take place here in New Orleans.
Marie: You know they gonna try to kill us.
Fiona: That's what I'm counting on.
(We see Madison, Kyle and Zoe in bed.)
Mme LaLaurie: (voice over) Although my mother's maiden name was Lovable (laughs) she did not pass that quality along to me, her daughter. I suppose I was an unhappy child. Not very nice, either. I kept to myself, communing with rodents and small animals. Cutting parts off to see how they'd fare, or if they'd die. (to Madison in the bathroom) You left your dirt in the commode. Why don't you flush it?
Madison: (laughs) You flush my shit, bitch.
LaLaurie: (voice over) No one thought I'd amount to much, but I surprised them all. I married well. My lavish soirées became a coveted invitation.
Dinner
Myrtle: Cumin. Coconut. Cardamom. Mulligatawny soup! Mmm. I've been transported to Rajasthan! Oh. Oh good. Bravo, Delphine! Magnifique! It goes perfectly with the wine. Mmm.
Mme LaLaurie: (voice over) How the mighty have fallen does not begin to describe my torment. Oh, yeah.
(Mme LaLaurie walks away with the tureen, pleased with herself.)
(Marie hands over the baby she stole for Mme LaLaurie to change.)
Marie: How you doing, love? I've been giving plenty thought to how I'm gonna deal with you. Here, clean little Ceci.
(Baby crying)
Mme LaLaurie: Shh.
Marie: Thinking this time, I'll finish what I started. (laughs) Scatter your parts all around town. Stick that head of yours in a construction site shit hole. (giggling) Oh, your days are numbered, woman. (baby fusses) Just when you least expect it (baby cries)
Mme LaLaurie: (voice over) When I'm not cleaning their filthy commodes or putting food in front of their greedy faces, washing their sex-stained sheets, cleaning up their general filth, I pass desperately long and lonely days and nights, fretting over the deterioration of my troubled mistress' body and soul. Watching her leave the house each evening without her undergarment, not to return till the wee hours.
Kitchen
(Cordelia is whispering in Latin over a potion)
Myrtle: (to Mme LaLaurie) Light as a goofer feather. It's all about the lard, isn't it? (whispering continues) (to Cordelia) You seem half mad, dear.
Cordelia: I had the sight once. I know it's still in me. It has to be. I think this could amplify it. (Cordelia whispering in Latin)
(A worker comes in from the garden with his hand bleeding.)
Man: Sorry to intrude, Cordelia. I was pruning your fig trees.
Myrtle: Ah, figs, ah, figs, Mother Nature's brown diamonds. In the fall, the rotting leaves smell like an Olympian's ejaculate.
Mme LaLaurie: (voice over) And then I realized what was missing in my life.
Cordelia: Figgy pudding cures the blues and banishes acne. I'm mad for it.
Mme LaLaurie: (voice over) Lately, I've been asking myself just what was it that fed my soul back then.
Cordelia: What did you do to your hand, James?
James: Cut myself with the shears.
Mme LaLaurie: Miss Cordelia, why don't you go and finish your breakfast, and I'll see to… James, was it?
James: Yes, ma'am.
Mme LaLaurie: Mm-hmm.
Attic
(She takes him up to Spaulding's attic, stringing him up like she did with her slaves.)
LaLaurie: Because being a hostess was never enough for my restless mind, and I realized it was my childlike curiosity about how my niggers ticked. Much like when I was a child and I used to carve up a possum or a stray cat. I just developed a scientific fascination for their… their body parts and their… their organs and their cries of agony. They made a strange almost comforting sound. Almost like a musical background. And their thick African blood just… satisfied a desire that was deep inside me. And then you appeared. Like an old friend from the past. I'll get to the fingers later. But let's start with your toes. This little piggy went to market. This little piggy (muffled crying) stayed home. This little piggy right here had roast beef. (James yelling) And this little piggy had none. (muffled screaming) And this little piggy cried whee! (bone cracks) (muffled screaming) Oh, yeah!
Bathroom
(Zoe with Kyle says a spell over the bathtub where Nan died.)
Zoe: Elementum recolligo huic locus. Commodo mihi vestri vox. Elementum recolligo huic locus. Commodo mihi vestri vox. (She sees Fiona's reflection in the water, then Marie's.) Fiona. I knew it. I knew it. My God, it was the both of them. They drowned her. Why would they kill Nan?
Madison: Oh, what have we here, a romantic bubble bath?
Zoe: I was trying to figure out what happened to Nan. Don't you care at all?
Madison: Have you met me?
Zoe: Misty was right. We should have let you rot. (Madison sighs)
Madison: (to Kyle) Here. Zoe and I need to talk. What's the deal, Zoe? We were supposed to share him, then you had to go fall in love with him.
Zoe: No, I didn't.
Madison: (laughs) So it wouldn't bother you if I got on my knee pads and blew him, right here, right now.
Zoe: If he wants it, be my guest.
Madison: Thanks. You're a peach.
Kyle: No! Not anymore. I love Zoe.
Madison: You think you can just throw me away for some junior varsity mall rat? I made you, Kyle, not her. You owe me.
Zoe: No, he doesn't. He's not your slave.
(Madison retaliates by cracking the mirror.)
Zoe: God, you're such a brat!
(She drops a light on Zoe's head.)
Kyle: Hey! No!
(Myrtle comes to investigate the noise.)
Myrtle: What is all that racket?! (laughs) Oh, Madison, you are the worst kind of Hollywood cliché: a bobble head with crotchless panties!
Madison: And you're a dried-up old Hot Pocket, but I don't judge.
Myrtle: You can't speak to me that way-- I am your elder.
Madison: Welcome to the Revolution, Carrot Top. As the next Supreme, I'm gonna drive this coven out of the Dark Ages. Crotchless panties for everyone. And as for you, Ken doll well, putting you together was fun but taking you apart's gonna be even more fun. (She leaves.)
Axeman’s apartment
(playing slow melody)
Axeman: Ah, go slow with that. (resumes playing slow melody) (fan whooshing softly) Baby. My granddaddy, he had this farm in, uh, Covington. We used to go there every summer. It was the only ray of light in my dark world. I want to take you there.
(Fiona laughs quietly) Fix it up. We'll spend out the rest of our days drinking gin rickeys on this porch. (Fiona laughing) What's so funny?
Fiona: Oh, imagine me a farm wife. Milking the cows.
Axeman: Well, you've lived a big life. You went everywhere, you've met everyone, you've done everything that your stormy little heart desired. But you were never, ever truly happy, huh? Now, for strictly, uh, curative reasons, we got to kill this young Supreme, whoever she is. But she could be our last. I'll give up the axe, and, uh you give up the coven. We could live like, uh like normal folk for a change. What do you say? Deal?
(Fiona exhales)
(She kisses him.)
Fiona: Yes, it's a deal. But first you have to do something for me. One little thing.
Axeman: Uh-uh.
Miss Robichaux's Academy
Attic
Mme LaLaurie: (laughs) Not very robust, were you?
(She finishes disemboweling James and Spalding appears.)
Spalding: Feel better?
Mme LaLaurie: Butler. I thought you'd run off.
Spalding: No, ma'am. Been here all along.
Mme LaLaurie: I can explain.
Spalding: I No. One doesn't explain art. One simply admires it.
Mme LaLaurie: You can talk. I thought you were tongueless.
Spalding: I was when I was alive.
Mme LaLaurie: Are you saying you're dead?
Spalding: Murdered. Right here, in this room.
Mme LaLaurie: That's true, isn't it? I spent enough time in the grave to know a spirit when I encounter one.
Spalding: I've been watching you. A life without purpose is no life at all.
Mme LaLaurie: I thought I'd found my purpose. Or at least a hobby. (sighs) Mostly I think I just made a mess. Guess who gets to clean it up. Me, the goddamn maid.
Spalding: You long for release. I know how you can achieve it.
Mme LaLaurie: Oh, it can't be achieved. I've been cursed.
Spalding: Yes. The black devil who is responsible for your unending torment is sheltered right under this very roof, treated like an honored guest.
Mme LaLaurie: Don't I know it. They got me waiting on her hand and foot.
Spalding: It's wrong.
Mme LaLaurie: It's more than wrong. It's a violation of the natural order. But there's nothing for it. I drank that potion. (sighs) One moment of weakness, of vanity. (sighs) Now I'm doomed to scrub out her chamber pots for all eternity.
Spalding: Not if she dies.
Mme LaLaurie: Why do you care?
Spalding: I care about this coven. About preserving the ancient line of Salem. Everything is at risk because Fiona has become confused, reckless. She's forgotten that Marie Laveau has been and always will be her sworn enemy. Marie Laveau must die.
Mme LaLaurie: She can't die. The bitch is immortal.
Spalding: By magic. And by magic, she can be undone.
Mme LaLaurie: What are you talking about?
Spalding: (chuckles) Even a voodoo queen can be rendered vulnerable, if only for an instant.
Mme LaLaurie: Are you saying I can kill her?
Spalding: I can provide you with the means. But you have to do something for me first.
Mme LaLaurie: What?
Spalding: Venture out into the world and retrieve an item. It won't be cheap.
Queenie’s bedroom
Queenie: Dirty hippie can kiss my ass.
Cordelia: Queenie? I thought that we should talk. First of all, I'm very glad you're back.
Queenie: Yeah? Then why'd you give my room away?
Cordelia: You left us. And you went across town to our sworn enemy.
Queenie: Who is right now in your guest room smoking a hookah. Things around here change fast, but damn.
Cordelia: A lot has happened
Queenie: Yeah, your husband shot me in the stomach.
Cordelia: To say I'm sorry doesn't begin
Queenie: It really doesn't.
Cordelia: Queenie. You are a very strong and powerful young woman. But how did you survive?
Queenie: Turns out I got some new powers. I shot him right through my skull. (Flashback.)
(Queenie shows her the witch hunter's bullet.)
Cordelia: He shot you with this?
Queenie: Yes. And I survived. I'm starting to think I might be the next Supreme. Not even a silver bullet can stop me.
Cordelia: Thank you.
Queenie: Don't touch me.
Cordelia: My eyes are open. And I promise I'm going to prove that to you and the girls.
Queenie: No offense, but since I left, one witch is dead and another one is missing. You are just as weak as you've ever been. Might want to take one long-ass vacation. Let somebody else run this joint for a while. Now, get out. Now!
Greenhouse
(Cordelia cries as she makes another potion. She rubs it around her eyes and sobs.)
(She holds pruning shears at her eyes and, with her hands quaking, dives them first into one eye, then the other.)
House
(Fiona comes back.)
Fiona: Cordelia. Delia? Cordel (breathing heavily) Is it true?
Myrtle: Your daughter's resting comfortably. I threw a little analgesic spell her way to help the pain. Searing, don't you know.
Fiona: She's taken out both eyes?
Myrtle: The blue eye, the brown eye. Some of my best work, between us pigeons, all gone.
Fiona: Why?
Myrtle: Because your daughter has become something you will never understand, Fiona. She's a hero. Your girl has ripped her own eyes straight out of her skull for one reason only: to protect the coven.
Fiona: From what? Huh? I'll take care of the Witch Hunters. And when I do this coven will have no more enemies.
Myrtle: No enemies on the outside perhaps, but danger lurks within these blanched walls. Everyone knows it. She sacrificed her eyes to regain the second sight. And woe to those among us who harbor bad thoughts.
Fiona: I have no secrets.
Myrtle: Then, by all means, go to her. Comfort her. Put motherly hands upon your wounded daughter's flesh and watch your filthy secrets be brought to light, laid bare. "No secrets." Shame on you, Fiona. I deserve better lies than that. You are an enemy to this coven and will be so long as you live. (sniffles) But Cordelia has your number, Slim.
Fiona: Go to hell, Myrtle Snow.
Myrtle: For what? Allowing you to see your daughter?
Fiona: I'll be back. I just need a drink. Steady my nerves.
Myrtle: See you soon.
Attic
Mme LaLaurie: Butler? Butler. I've done what you asked.
Spalding: You got it?
Mme LaLaurie: Paid a king's ransom for it, too. (Spalding exhales)
Spalding: Oh. Whoa. An authentic 1895 Armand Marseille Dream Baby. You're sure this is the original gown?
Mme LaLaurie: There's a certificate of authenticity in there somewhere.
Spalding: This was a very limited run, you know. Dieter Hoffbonner designed the gowns himself.
Mme LaLaurie: Grown man, taking pleasure in a doll baby. It's unsavory. All right, I did my part. Now, before somebody notices that half the silver's gone missing, you give me what you promised me.
Spalding: Yes. The potion that will render the voodoo queen mortal and allow you to end her life. A few capsules, dissolved in her drink. (whispers) Few capsules (He reveals a box of Benadryl.)
Mme LaLaurie: "Ben"
Spalding: Shhh! No. Never speak it aloud.
Mme LaLaurie: It's that powerful?
Spalding: You have no idea.
Greenhouse
(theremin plays softly)
Zoe: You wanted to see me?
Myrtle: Come in, Zoe. Sit down. I have something for you. Good God, chickie, don't look at it! You'll be blinded by the sheer craftsmanship.
Zoe: Um okay. What is it?
Myrtle: My only possession of value. A sapphire and topaz harvester ant made for me by Joel Arthur Rosenthal, the Fabergé of our time. The Harvester ant is one of the most venomous creatures in the world, along with Fiona, and JAR-- as the world knows my dear Joel-- toiled on it for months.
Zoe: Do you want me to wear it?
Myrtle: You could never pull it off, darling. Only Lee Radziwill or myself could do it justice. Now listen to me carefully: I want you to hock it in case of emergency.
Zoe: I'm completely lost here.
Myrtle: You're leaving this coven, Zoe. And you're taking Kyle with you.
Zoe: I do love Kyle, Myrtle. But I'm not leaving.
Myrtle: I watched you and Kyle together at Nan's funeral. Such a pair. So much in love. As the great Keats would say, "More happy love! "More happy, happy love! "Forever warm and still to be enjoyed. "Forever panting and and forever young." (playing theremin) I had a love like that once. Egon von Furstenberg. He dumped me, but everything worked out all right in the end. You know why? Because he went on to marry the divine Diane. And without Egon's support, Diane von Furstenberg never would have created the greatest invention of the century, the wrap dress! If you stay here, your life is in grave danger.
Zoe: I can handle Madison.
Myrtle: She'd slit your throat, then sleep like a baby. I understand Madison. The depth of her cynicism. Go. You and Kyle. Run away together and start your life over.
Zoe: I'm committed to this coven.
Myrtle: So was I, and I burned at the stake for it.
Zoe: What if I'm the next Supreme?
Myrtle: All the more reason to run. If Madison doesn't end you, Fiona will. Zoe you have a boy that loves you.
Zoe: Because he's damaged goods.
(Myrtle slaps Zoe.)
Myrtle: How dare you be so unromantic and so very, very selfish. Our dear Cordelia plucked her eyes out to protect this coven, and you have the gall to ignore my words of warning and support? Now take these tickets to Epcot and my JAR jewels and pack your bags.
Conference room
(Harrison Renard and several of the Corporation suits come to a conference room to meet with Fiona and Marie.)
Harrison: (to David) Be ready for anything, but keep the dogs at bay. Those bitches have to walk out of here untouched.
David: I guess we are first.
(door opens)
Fiona: Well, good afternoon, gentlemen. Thank you for being on time. Emeril has invited us to a… a little tasting this evening. We don't want to miss it. Please, everyone.
David: No security? Don't you want to check us for weapons?
Fiona: (laughs) Cher, I took down your entire company with about as much effort as it takes for me to mix myself a Rob Roy. And Marie… Marie is immortal, for Christ's sake. You think we're worried about guns? Which reminds me I need a drink. Waiter. Martini, please. Filthy. (whispering to Marie) Do you want something?
Marie: Oh Sprite.
Fiona: And a Sprite.
Marie: Uh, Diet Sprite.
Harrison: All right. In every negotiation
Marie: A negotiation? Listen up, white devil. Now, we sittin' here out of kindness and generosity, which is more than your son showed the innocent people that he gunned down in my shop.
Harrison: Collateral damage.
Fiona: You know, my new friend is right.
Harrison: We are doing you a favor. We are willing to make Marie Laveau whole for any damage done to her shop. We have only one request: you have to restore our company. There are thousands of good, innocent people out of jobs, and this has nothing to do with them.
Marie: (to the waiter)Thank you. (to Harrison) Collateral damage.
Harrison: Look here's the truth. This war, it's a thing of the past. Sometimes I feel like I'm trying to rid the State Department of Communists. This document is signed by every director in this room. It calls for a 100-year truce. No witch hunting of any kind until all of us who can die are long dead. This is the end. (The waiter (whose face we can't see) locks the room.) We give up.
Fiona: Mm-hmm. Okay. Now, this is my offer to you. You disband this little merry troupe of assholes, vowing never to harm another witch from now until the end of time. (Harrison chuckles) I would also like you to sign over your house in Berkeley Square to me. But paint it first. God knows all the money in the world can't buy good taste.
Marie: Well, now, I'd like the private jet. Mmm.
Fiona: And Marie wants a private jet.
(chuckles)
David: Okay, this is insanity. We came here to negotiate. In good faith.
Fiona: Too much? Well, I don't know. Maybe you're right. Then here's my other offer. (…) You can all just die.
(The Axeman turns around and takes out his axe, then throws it into the nearest Corporation suit. He hacks away as the ladies use magic to disarm the others. One by one, the suits go down, leaving only Harrison.
Harrison calmly gets a cup of tea.)
Harrison: Well played.
Fiona: (chuckles) You Harvard men, charming to the end.
Harrison: Yale actually. (to Marie)You know killing us, it's not gonna put an end to this war.
Marie: Maybe, baby. But it's gonna be so much fun just to watch it happen. (laughs)
Fiona: You got any last words?
Harrison: (hawking) (spits) (Fiona chuckles) Go to hell, witch bitch.
(The Axeman tosses Fiona his axe and Fiona takes the gleeful hacks into Harrison's neck.)
Marie: Well, killing him was easier than I thought. (laughs) (She takes a picture.)
Fiona: Mmm. You make a hell of a martini, mister.
Axeman: I love you more than jazz, baby doll.
Miss Robichaux's Academy
Kitchen
(Fiona and Marie toast to their success as Mme LaLaurie waits to see Marie's reaction to her drink.)
Fiona: To the beginning of a long, long friendship. (both chuckle)
Both: Mmm, mmm. Mmm, mmm. Mmm.
Marie: Where do you think you're going?
Fiona: To hail the conquering hero. (chuckles) My man swung a mighty axe. I have to go reward him. Don't wait up. (She leaves.)
Marie: Damn, Delphine. You know, girl, you may be rotten to the core, but you do make a sweet French 75. (laughs)
Mme LaLaurie: Thank you, ma'am.
Marie’s bedroom
Marie: Leave it! And get out. Only thing that could ruin this moment is to have to look at your fugly face. (grunts)
Mme LaLaurie: I'll leave when I'm finished.
Marie: (laughs) Oh you will obey me, servant.
Mme LaLaurie: I told you. I'm not finished. But you are.
(She drives a knife into Marie's chest.)
Marie: (screams, grunts) Stupid cow! (grunting) (Marie laughs and calmly removes the knife from her chest.) Thinking you could kill me (grunts)
Mme LaLaurie: But.. Yeah, I… (Marie exhales) The m… the magic takes time to work. Your fate is sealed.
Marie: (groans) Oh, you stupid rube! That ain't magic. It's an antihistamine. And the only thing I'm allergic to is you. Damn you. Damn you!
(She comes after Delphine but Spaulding whacks Marie on the head with a doll, sending her tumbling down the stairs.)
Mme LaLaurie: Is she dead?
Spalding: She cannot die.
Mme LaLaurie: What?
Spalding: She's immortal.
Mme LaLaurie: But you said.
Spalding: I just wanted her out of my hair. You were most likely to cooperate.
Mme LaLaurie: Well, turds on that. What am I supposed to do with her now?
Spalding: I don't know. Bury her.
Mme LaLaurie: She'd just dig her way out!
Spalding: Make sure she can't.
Attic
(lullaby playing on Victrola) (baby cooing)
Spalding: Shh Finally. A living doll. (baby that Marie stole ) All my own.
Bedroom
(Zoe packs up her things.)
Zoe: Don't forget your toothbrush. Kyle, the bus leaves in, like, an hour. You have to finish packing. Do you want me to do it?
Kyle: I'm not going.
Zoe: What are you talking about?
Kyle: I'm afraid.
Zoe: Of what? Me?
Kyle: Of me. Of me hurting you or somebody else. I have these feelings inside that I can't (sniffles) I can't control. (crying)
Zoe: I'm not scared of you. I'm not… scared of you. Put the rest of your things in my bag and-and put your shoes on. We're leaving, just like planned.
Kyle: I love you, Zoe but it's not your decision.
Zoe: "More happy love.(sighs) More happy, happy love. More happy love."
(They head to the bus station and get on the bus to Orlando.)
–[End]–