“This is the best birthday ever! *Beth is collecting tubes and jars in her arms* Now I’ve got salve, ointment, and balm for my head thingy.”
*Beth angrily throws everything onto the floor*
“Okay. Joke’s over! Where’s my dolls, my jump rope, and my new watch?!”
“Little girls don’t get presents when they act greedy.”
“You forgot where you put them, didn’t you?”
“Who wants cake?”
I don’t know, Kyle, all right? Look, I don’t care what you guys believe, but with all the crazy stuff that goes on in this town, isn’t it possible, just possible, that something I don’t understand happened here?
…all right. I guess it’s possible.
Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! I got you kinda! I got you kinda!
“I don’t know if you can understand me but I’m going to do everything I can to make you better. I’ll come read you poetry or music! That stimulates the brain. I can kinda of play the piccolo.”
*Donnie talking normally*
“Please leave me alone.”
“WHAT?!”
“I just want my life back. *Takes out a nut from a can and eats it* My old life.”
“YOU’RE FINE?! YOU’RE TOTALLY FINE?!”
“No. I got beat up. But when you dropped me on my head in the hospital, I saw my chance.”
“You-you….”
“Hey I tried to make a go at it but paying rent, making car payments, reaching for things, it’s not me.”
“I’m going to tell!”
“Come on. It gives my mother purpose. She likes it. I like it. It works for us.”
“Look Donnie! Cran-Apple!”
“Juice for the Juice man!”
*Donnie makes unintelligible noises*
“We’ll take it with us, huh? Oh come on, Donnie! Let’s go make you some lasagna! Thank god he can still eat.”
“See you soon, buddy!”
*Donnie’s mother waves his hand*
“Bye bye!”
“All right. Great.”
“Oh oh! He’s squeezing my hand. It’s okay, Donnie. Mommy’s with you!”
*Donnie makes more unintelligible noises*
“So good to be needed again. Oh, yes Maya, you were saying?”
“Donnie is a brave brave boy.”
“Well he’ll have to be. He’s sharing a room with Grandma.”
*Donnie starts screaming in horror and shaking the can of nuts loudly as Maya smiles at him*
“Bye!”
*Stan finds a malnourish Jiminy Cricket locked in a tiny cage. He begins to speak very weakly*
“Kill me….”
“Oh my god! It’s Roger’s conscience! The poor thing is dying from neglect!”
*Stan starts to unlock the cage when another weak groan is heard. Zoom out to a man wrapped up in a spider’s web hanging from the ceiling*
“Tom Skerrit?”
*Tom speaks weakly*
“Find. Me. Work!”
*Roger sees Stan about to kiss him and he grabs Stan and shoves his entire tongue into Stan’s mouth*
“Roger!”
“What? All I was doing was taking a nap in my prettiest dress and then you made a move on me!”
“Come on, Mikey! Get those hips into it!”
*Miley is blindfolded and swinging a stick at a wasp’s nest*
“Sweetie, a wasp’s nest isn’t really a proper piñata.”
“Bob, I’m entertaining on a budget here.”
*Mikey hits the nest onto the ground where it breaks open and causes wasps to attack him*
“Ow! Ow! Ow! The candy’s stinging me!*
*Mikey runs off still blindfolded *
If that stuff wasn’t real, how can I be sure anything is real? Is it not possible, nay, probable, that my whole life is just a product of my or someone else’s imagination?