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                AMERICAN FICTION



            Written for the screen by

                 Cord Jefferson




Based upon the novel 'Erasure' by Percival Everett
OVER BLACK

                       MONK
             OK. Let's begin.


INT. USC CLASSROOM - DAY

We open on THELONIOUS "MONK" ELLISON (black, 50s, neurotic,
tired) standing before a classroom of college students, most
of them white.

                       MONK
             Who wants to start?

BRITTANY (white, 19) raises her hand.

                       MONK (CONT'D)
             Yes, Brittany. Kick it off.

                       BRITTANY
             I don't have a thought on the
             reading, I just think that that
             word on the board is wrong.

The camera moves now so we can see the whiteboard behind
Monk, on which is written: "Flannery O'Connor" and "The
Artificial Nigger." Monk turns to look.

                       MONK
             No, it still had two Gs last I
             checked.

Some of the students laugh, but not Brittany.

                       BRITTANY
             It's not funny. We shouldn't have
             to stare at the n-word all day.

                       MONK
             Listen. This is a class on the
             literature of the American South.
             You're going to encounter some
             archaic thoughts, coarse language,
             but we're all adults here, and I
             think we can understand it in the
             context in which it's used.

                        BRITTANY
             Well, I just find that word really
             offensive.
                                                         2.


                    MONK
          With all due respect, Brittany, I
          got over it. I'm pretty sure you
          can, too.

                    BRITTANY
          Well, I don't see why.

Monk, who has been affable up until now, casts an icy stare
at Brittany.


INT. USC HALLWAY - MOMENTS LATER

Brittany storms out of the classroom carrying all her things,
tears streaming down her bright red cheeks. We can hear
Monk's voice trailing after her.

                    MONK (O.S.)
              (shouting)
          Now, does anyone else have thoughts
          on the reading?


INT. CONFERENCE ROOM - DAY

Monk is sitting before a tribunal of sorts. At a long table
in front of him are three other professors: GILDA (white,
50s), MANDEL (white, 60s), and LEO (white, 50s), the chair of
the English department.

                    LEO
          Well, it made some of your students
          uncomfortable, Monk.

                    MONK
          When did they all become so goddamn
          delicate?

                    MANDEL
          This wasn't an isolated incident.

                    MONK
          What?

                    GILDA
          Last month you asked a student if
          his family had been Nazis.

                    MONK
          Yeah, I did. He's German. We were
          reading "The Plot Against America."
          And trust me, from the way he was
          squirming, they were.
                                                3.


                    LEO
          Monk, you are a very talented
          writer. We're fortunate to have you
          here --

                    MANDEL
              (interrupting)
          What? He hasn't published in years.
              (off Monk's look)
          I've written three novels since the
          last time you published.

                    MONK
          This is true. And the speed with
          which you write only proves that
          good things take time.

                    MANDEL
          Oh, go to hell, Monk!

                    LEO
              (intervening)
          Enough. Enough! Relax, Mandy.

                    MONK
          Yeah, relax, Mandy. And anyway, my
          new book is in with Ecco and my
          agent says they're very excited
          about it.

                    LEO
          That's great to hear. What's it
          about?

                    GILDA
          Can we stop stalling, Leo.

Monk looks to Leo, puzzled.

                    LEO
          Uh, listen, Monk, we'd like to give
          you a break.

                     MONK
          A break?

                    LEO
          Just some time off.

                    MANDEL
          Mandatory time off.
                                                         4.


                    LEO
          It's just, you're already going to
          Boston for the festival, right? Why
          don't you just stay there for a
          couple weeks?

                    MONK
          Because I hate Boston. My family's
          there.

                    LEO
          Well, you need some time to relax.
          You're on edge, man.

                    MONK
          And you're under the impression
          that time spent with my family will
          take the edge off. I'm fine.

                    MANDEL
          You're not fine. I saw you crying
          in your car last week.
              (to Leo)
          He punched the steering wheel.

Monk stands and walks toward Mandy.

                    MONK
          You know, if you spent less time
          spying on me you could probably
          write a dozen more novels that
          people buy in airports, with their
          neck pillows, and Cheez-Its.

                    MANDEL
          Oh, here we go! You want to get
          dirty, doggy?! Okay, well, enjoy
          Boston! You can get my book at the
          airport! Oh, and good luck with
          Ecco!

But Monk already is out the door.

TITLE SEQUENCE TRANSITIONING US FROM LA TO BOSTON


EXT. HOTEL - LATE AFTERNOON

Monk is exiting a hotel with a Dunkin' Donuts iced coffee.
After a few steps, his phone buzzes in his pocket. It's his
agent, ARTHUR (50s, gregarious).

                    MONK
          Hello?
                                                         5.


INT. ARTHUR'S OFFICE - SAME TIME

Arthur's office is clean, but there are stacks of bound books
and printed manuscripts. He chats using wired headphones.

                    ARTHUR
          Welcome back. How's it feel to be
          home?


INTERCUT PHONE CONVERSATION

                    MONK
          Great. I've already had a man in a
          Bruins jersey ask me if I think I'm
          better than him.

                    ARTHUR
          That's good luck here. That's
          Boston's version of a ladybug
          landing on you.

                      MONK
          Any news?

                    ARTHUR
          Patrick at Ecco is passing.
              (then, quickly)
          But who fucking cares -- he's an
          old alcoholic.

                    MONK
          What is that? Nine now?

                     ARTHUR
          He said...
              (reading from computer)
          "This book is finely crafted, with
          fully developed characters and rich
          language, but one is lost to
          understand what this reworking of
          Aeschlyus' The Persians has to do
          with the African-American
          experience."

                    MONK
          And there it is.

                    ARTHUR
          They want a black book.

                    MONK
          They have one. I'm black and it's
          my book.
                                                            6.


                    ARTHUR
          You know what I mean.

                    MONK
          You mean they want me to write
          about a cop killing some teenager,
          or a single mom in Dorchester
          raising five kids.

                    ARTHUR
          Dorchester's pretty white now. But
          yes.

                     MONK
          Jesus Christ.
              (then)
          Do you know that I don't even
          really believe in race?

Monk raises his hand to hail a cab, and we stay with him
instead of going back to Arthur.

                     ARTHUR (V.O.)
          Yeah. The problem is that everyone
          else does.

A cab pulls up to Monk and then blows right past him to pick
up a WHITE MAN several feet away.

                    ARTHUR (V.O.)
          Anyway, have fun at the book
          festival. And just don't insult
          anyone important. Please.


INT. HOTEL EVENT ROOM - DAY

Monk is at the front with TWO OTHER AUTHORS and a MODERATOR.
A placard on an easel next to them reads, "REVITALIZING
ANCIENT LITERATURE FOR THE MODERN AUDIENCE." One of the other
authors is finishing a thought.

                    AUTHOR
          ...and writing from a historical
          perspective doesn't mean you can't
          make work that doesn't resonate
          with today's audiences. I think of
          things like Game of Thrones as
          proof that nerds like us can still
          find great success.

A few people clap, and we now reveal a mostly empty room.
                                                            7.


                     MODERATOR
           Unfortunately we're going to have
           to end it there. Thank you to our
           authors and thanks to all of you
           for attending.

The audience claps and begins to disperse as the panelists
graciously wave. Monk leans toward the moderator.

                     MONK
           Is it just me, or was this small,
           even for a book festival?

                     MODERATOR
           Yeah, it's because we're up against
           Sintara.

                     MONK
           Who?

                     MODERATOR
           Sintara Golden. You haven't read
           her?

                     MONK
           No. What's her book called?

                                               SMASH CUT TO:


INT. HOTEL EVENT ROOM - DAY


INSERT -

We're extremely close on a book poster. The book's title --
"We's Lives in Da Ghetto" -- is written in big font and
accompanied by a stereotypical illustration.

                                               BACK TO SCENE.

The camera moves from   the poster to reveal the event room,
which is packed. Monk   nudges past some onlookers to get a
better view. Onstage,   author SINTARA GOLDEN (black, 32,
polished) sits with a   MODERATOR (white, 40s).

                     MODERATOR
           Raves everywhere: the Post,
           Bookforum, the Times. The London
           Review of Books said, "'We's Lives
           in Da Ghetto' is a heartbreaking
           and visceral debut." Plus, a little
           birdie told me that perhaps there's
           a TV adaptation in the works?
                                                   8.


Sintara gives a coy look to the moderator.

                    SINTARA
          No comment.

The audience offers some excited giggles.

                    MODERATOR
          OK. It was worth a shot. Tell us:
          What was your life like before you
          were an author?

                     SINTARA
          I did undergrad at Oberlin and
          moved to New York the day after
          graduation. And, a couple months
          later, I was an assistant at a
          publisher.

                    MODERATOR
          And did that assistant experience
          shape your writing?

                    SINTARA
          Absolutely. I was a "first reader,"
          meaning I would read all the
          manuscripts in the slush pile and
          send them up the ladder if they
          were any good. Some of them were
          great, most were not.

The audience laughs.

                    SINTARA (CONT'D)
          But the feeling I couldn't shake
          was that, no matter how good the
          books were, most every submission
          was from some white dude from New
          York going through a divorce. Too
          few of them were about my people.
          And so I'd think, Where are our
          stories? Where is our
          representation? And it was from
          that lack that my book was born.

                    MODERATOR
          Would you give us the pleasure of
          reading an excerpt?

Sintara nods and the moderator hands her a book.

                     SINTARA
          Thank you.
              (reading)
                     (MORE)
                                                           9.
                    SINTARA (CONT'D)
          "Yo, Sharonda, where you be goin'
          in a hurry likes dat?" D'onna ax me
          when she seed me comin' out da
          house. "Ain't none yo biznis, but
          iffan you gots to know, I'se goin
          to the pharmacy." I looks back at
          the do' to see if Mama comin' out.
          "The pharmacy? What fo?" she ax.
          "You know," I says. "Naw," she say.
          "Hell, naw. Girl, you be pregnant
          again?" "Mights be," I tells her.
          "And if I is, Ray Ray's gon' be a
          real father this time around."

Sintara closes the book as the audience and the moderator
explode in gushing applause, with some even giving a standing
ovation. Sintara smiles and waves to her fans.

                       SINTARA (CONT'D)
          Thank you.

Monk scans the room, slightly confused by what he's just
witnessed.


INT. BAR - NIGHT

A drunken Monk finishes a martini and motions for another.


INT. HOTEL ROOM - BATHROOM - MORNING

Daylight breaks through the curtains onto a rumpled, empty
bed. A hungover Monk is sitting on the floor of the shower,
letting the water run over him.


INT. PLANNED PARENTHOOD SECURITY CHECK - AFTERNOON

Monk enters the clinic. A SECURITY GUARD wands him down and
lets him pass.


INT. PLANNED PARENTHOOD RECEPTION - CONTINUOUS

Monk approaches a desk where a RECEPTIONIST sits.

                    MONK
          Hi, I'm here to see Lisa Ellison.

                    RECEPTIONIST
          Do you have an appointment? We're
          about to close.
                                                        10.


                    MONK
          No, I'm her brother.

We hear the sound of a door opening and LISA (late 50s, put
together) emerges from the back.

                    RECEPTIONIST
          Oh, there she is.

She approaches her brother and stops a few feet away from
him.

                    LISA
          Hello, Monk.

                       MONK
          Hi, Lisa.

They stand and look at each other for a moment, neither of
them closing the distance between them.


I/E. LISA'S CAR - SUNSET

Lisa drives as Monk rides shotgun. A few beats of silence.

                    LISA
          OK, you're in a boat, the motor
          cuts out, but you're in shallow
          water, but you're wearing six-
          hundred-dollar shoes, but your ride
          to the airport is just pulling away
          from the beach. Why, oh why, is
          this a legal issue?

                    MONK
          I don't know.

                    LISA
          It's a matter of row versus wade.

                       MONK
          Oh my god.

The ice breaker works and Monk smiles.

                    LISA
          I think that's one of my best.

Monk and Lisa both laugh now. Lisa pulls out a cigarette and
lights it.

                    MONK
          When did you start smoking again?
                                                11.


                    LISA
          Right after the divorce.

                    MONK
          I always hated Larry.

                    LISA
          Oh, I know. You told me right when
          we started dating. Do you remember
          how mad I got?

                    MONK
              (Lisa impression)
          "It's not your business who I fuck!
          Who I fellate!"

                    LISA
          I definitely did not say fellate.

                    MONK
          I thought you did. That's how I
          heard it, anyway.

                    LISA
          It's good to see you.

                    MONK
          Yeah. It's good to see you, too.
          How's work?

                    LISA
          It's not very glamorous. I go
          through a metal detector every day.

                    MONK
          What you do is important. Meanwhile
          all I do is invent little people in
          my head and then make them have
          imaginary conversations with each
          other.

                    LISA
          Books change people's lives.

                    MONK
          Has something I've written ever
          changed your life?

                    LISA
          Absolutely. Absolutely! My dining
          room table was wobbly as hell
          before your last book came out.

Lisa smiles wryly at Monk.
                                                        12.


                       MONK
          Oh my god.

                    LISA
          It was, like, perfect. I'm telling
          you--

                    MONK
          Take me back to Logan please.

                    LISA
          Logan cannot help you, Monk.

They laugh again.


EXT. MONK'S CHILDHOOD HOME - DUSK

Lisa pulls her car into the driveway out front.

                    LISA (V.O.)
          Welcome home, baby!


INT. MONK'S CHILDHOOD HOME - MOMENTS LATER

Monk and Lisa enter the home, a worn but still elegant house
in Cambridge.

                    LISA
          Hello? Hello?

The live-in housekeeper, LORRAINE (black, late 60s, the
barest Southern lilt), enters from the kitchen wearing her
omnipresent yellow apron.

                       LORRAINE
          Mr. Monk!

                    MONK
          Lorraine...

Lorraine and Monk embrace for a few moments.

                    MONK (CONT'D)
          Oh, you know how that makes me
          feel. It's just Monk.

                     LORRAINE
          Oh, don't do that to me. You know
          I'm too old to learn new names.
              (then)
          How're you doing, Ms. Lisa?
                                                          13.


                        LISA
            I'm good.

                      LORRAINE
            You look good, Mr. Monk.

                      MONK
            I look fat.

                      LORRAINE
            That's the California talking. If I
            took you back to Arkansas, you'd be
            a beauty queen.

                      MONK
            That's frightening.

AGNES (70s, black, graceful), Monk and Lisa's mother, comes
slowly down the stairs.

                      AGNES
            Is that my Monkey?

Monk smiles when he sees her.

                      MONK
            Hi, Mother.

They hug.

                      AGNES
            You look fat.

                        MONK
            I know.

                      LORRAINE
            You ready to go to dinner, Mrs.
            Ellison?

                      AGNES
            I just need my purse, and my black
            cardigan.

                      LORRAINE
            Alright. I'll get it.

Monk and Agnes walk to the dining room as Lorraine goes
upstairs to fetch the things.

                      AGNES
            Are you alright? You overeat when
            you're depressed.
                                                          14.


                    MONK
          I'm not depressed. I've just been
          not sleeping well lately and so
          fell off my exercise routine.

                    AGNES
          So you're not depressed, you just
          bears all the hallmarks of
          depression?

Monk helps Agnes into her chair.

                    MONK
          I missed you.

Monk sits down across from Agnes as Lisa appears in the
doorway.

                    AGNES
          Is Larry coming?

                    LISA
          No, Mother. Larry and I separated,
          remember?

                    AGNES
          Of course I remember.

She didn't, so she rushes to recover.

                    AGNES (CONT'D)
          I just thought he might be join us -
          - to see your brother.

                    LISA
          OK.

Monk and Lisa steal a glance at each other.


INT. RESTAURANT - NIGHT

Monk and Lisa are at a table in a bustling Cambridge
restaurant. Their mother's chair is empty, and they're trying
to speak quickly and quietly before she returns.

                    MONK
          I mean, is it really such a big
          deal? Everyone forgets things. That
          doesn't mean she's sick,
          necessarily.
                                      15.


          LISA
People forget dentist appointments.
She forgets I'm not married
anymore. That's weird.

          MONK
What do you suggest we do?

          LISA
Why do I have to decide?

          MONK
Because you're a doctor.

          LISA
So are you.

          MONK
I'm not that kind.

          LISA
Okay, my point is you are an
intelligent adult, and I'm tired of
being the only person that takes
care of her.

          MONK
Well, I don't recall anyone
assigning you that responsibility.

          LISA
No, you and Cliff just fled west as
soon as you could and made me
caretaker by default.

          MONK
My work's there. Apologies that it
keeps me from keeping up with the
family melodrama.

          LISA
If you lived up the block you
wouldn't know what was going on.
I'm stuck here taking care of that
old house and finding love letters
from dad's affairs.

            MONK
His what?

          LISA
His affairs. You didn't know he was
having affairs?
                                              16.


                    MONK
          Uh, no. How did you?

                    LISA
          Well he was an OB/GYN who was
          traveling constantly but his
          patients were in Boston.

                    MONK
          He said he was going to
          conferences.

                    LISA
          He was making house calls. Do you
          know that I saw him kiss a white
          woman in the park in high school?

                       MONK
          How white?

                    LISA
          What do you mean how white?

                    MONK
          Like Brahmin white, or Southie
          white?

                    LISA
          I don't know. She had thin lips.
          Looked like a bad kisser.

                    MONK
          Did you tell Mother?

                    LISA
          No. I wasn't going to blow up our
          lives.
              (recognizing)
          She's coming back. Mom. Mom.

Monk stands to help Agnes into her chair.

                    LISA (CONT'D)
              (to Agnes)
          Hi. How ya doin?

                    AGNES
          Our waitress isn't wearing a bra.

                       LISA
          OK.

                    MONK
          I didn't notice.
                                                        17.


Monk sits back down.


INT. HOTEL ROOM - NIGHT

Monk lays atop his hotel bed wearing only his underwear. He's
watching Get Rich or Die Tryin' (2005) on the hotel TV,
specifically the scene in which MAJESTIC (Adewale Akinnuoye-
Agbaje) explains the "house rules" of crack dealing to some
neighborhood drug dealers.

                    MAJESTIC (ON TV)
          See this shit? This gonna take us
          out of the ghetto. But there are
          rules to the house. Rule number
          one: Never leave this product in
          the house. Rule number two: Get
          your own crew. Number three: Gotta
          have discipline in your
          crew...four: Don't praise a n*gga
          too much... otherwise he gonna
          think you soft. Rule number five:
          Don't show no love. Love will get
          you killed. See this? It's like a
          bitch. You fuck a bitch, don't let
          a bitch fuck you. You a man? You
          don't need nothing or no one to get
          you through. This bitch... This
          bitch will take your soul...

Monk's initial amusement turns to disgust, and he turns the
the TV off.


INT. BOOKSTORE - MORNING

Monk looks for a book in "Mythology" section, but what he
wants isn't there. He stops an EMPLOYEE (20s,
unenthusiastic).

                    MONK
          Excuse me...
              (looking at name tag)
          Ned. Do you have any books by the
          writer Thelonious Ellison?

Ned lifts the iPad he's carrying and types in some letters.

                    NED
          Yeah, this way.
                                                        18.


INT. BOOKSTORE - MOMENTS LATER

Ned has walked Monk to a section called "African-American
Studies."

                    NED
          Here you go.

Ned goes to leave, but Monk stops him.

                    MONK
          Wait a minute. Why're these books
          here?

                    NED
          I'm not sure. I would imagine that
          this author, Ellison, is black.

                    MONK
          That's me. Ellison. He is me. And
          he and I are black.

                       NED
          Oh, bingo.

                    MONK
          No bingo, Ned. These books have
          nothing to do with African-American
          studies. They're just literature.
              (pointing again)
          The blackest thing about this one
          is the ink.

                    NED
          I don't decide what sections the
          books go in. Nobody here does.
          That's how chain stores work.

                    MONK
          Right. Ned. You don't make the
          rules.

Monk stares at Ned angrily for a moment.


INT. BOOKSTORE - MOMENTS LATER

Monk, his arms full of his books, is walking the aisles to
the appropriate section. Ned is a few paces behind him.

                    NED
          I'm just going to put them back
          after you leave.
                                                        19.


                    MONK
          Don't you dare, Ned. Do not you
          dare.

Monk arrives at "Contemporary Fiction" and begins to put his
books on the shelf. He looks to his right for a brief moment
and catches a glimpse of a display for "We's Lives in Da
Ghetto." This book is haunting him. After a short beat, Lisa
steps out from behind a corner.

                    LISA
          Monk? What are you doing?

Monk turns to her, his fists still gripping a couple books.


EXT. BAR - BACKYARD - AFTERNOON

Lisa and Monk are seated at a small café table. Other PATRONS
dot the area. Lisa has a cocktail while Monk sips a glass of
wine.

                    LISA
          Mom's only going to get worse.

                    LISA (CONT'D)
          They say mental exercise is good.
          That's why I got her that gardening
          book.

                    MONK
          Does growing cucumbers count as
          mental exercise?

                    LISA
          I hate when you do that.

                    MONK
          What?

                    LISA
          You share your condescending
          opinion as a question to try and
          disguise the condescension. Why
          don't you just say you think the
          gardening is idiotic?

                    MONK
          Um, because that's not what I was
          doing.

                    LISA
          Bullshit. Bullshit.
                                                20.


                    MONK
          Maybe we can hire a nurse a few
          times a week.

                    LISA
          Who's gonna pay for that?

                    MONK
          You can't afford it?

                    LISA
          Not after the divorce. I cannot.

                    MONK
          It'll hurt, but we'll probably have
          to sell the beach house.

Lisa pulls out a cigarette and lights it.

                    LISA
          Yeah, we definitely need to sell
          the beach house, but that money is
          going to go to pay back the reverse
          mortgage that our mother took out
          on the other house.

The reverse mortgage is news to Monk.

                    MONK
          I can send some money home, but it
          won't be much. Can't Cliff chip in?

                    LISA
          Cliff's not in a good place, OK?

                    MONK
          Who is?

                    LISA
          Monk, Becca took everything, and
          the kids are getting teased in
          school.

                    MONK
          I didn't know.

                    LISA
          Well, maybe you should call him.

They're quiet for a beat.

                    MONK
          I'm sorry I've always been so
          distant.
                                                        21.


                    LISA
          You couldn't help it. You were
          always Dad's favorite. And then
          that made Cliff and I bond, and you
          resented us for having that bond,
          and then...I don't know, you just
          became self-sufficient.

                    MONK
          We've never talked about this.

                    LISA
          We've never talked about anything.
          Is that surprising? Look at our
          parents.
              (scoffs)
          The only emotions I can remember
          Dad expressing were boredom and
          rage.

                    MONK
          Is boredom an emotion?

                    LISA
          Great. It's Detective Dictionary.

                    MONK
              (laughing)
          You haven't called me that in
          forever.

Just then, Lisa lurches forward and grabs her chest, clearly
hurting.

                       LISA
          Oh god.

                       MONK
          What?

But Lisa doesn't respond. She's in too much pain.

                       LISA
          Oh god.

                       MONK
          Oh, c'mon.

We get close on Monk's face. At first he's smiling, still
laughing at her teasing. But soon it's a look of concern, and
then terror. He stands to help her.
                                                        22.


                    MONK (CONT'D)
              (to Lisa)
          Hey --
              (calling out to anyone)
          Hey, help! Help! Help me! Help me!


INT. HOSPITAL HALLWAY - AFTERNOON

Monk watches through a window as a MEDICAL TEAM works on
Lisa. The window is narrow, allowing him a limited view of
his sister. After a while, he sees the doctors and nurses
start to recognize that their efforts aren't working -- Lisa
and her stopped heart remain unresponsive. Seeing their
exertions dwindle, Monk realizes what's happening and he
turns away, silent, placid. And then, without saying a word,
he walks down the hallway toward the exit.


EXT. BEACH - MORNING

We're now a couple weeks out from Lisa's death, which we'll
understand in a few moments. The camera pans over the
mourners: Monk, Agnes, Lorraine, and a new character, CLIFF
(early 50s, in much better shape than Monk). The group is
gathered on the beach behind their home.

A breeze comes in from the ocean as water laps the sand.
Cliff holds an urn and Monk holds a folded sheet of paper. He
opens the document and begins to read.

                    MONK
              (reading)
          If you are reading this, it's
          because I, Lisa Madrigal Ellison,
          have died. Obviously this is not
          ideal, but I guess it had to happen
          at some point. Hopefully I expired
          under...

Monk stops for a moment and then begins again.

                    MONK (CONT'D)
              (reading)
          Hopefully I expired under the
          heaving thrusts of a sweaty Idris
          Elba, or perhaps in a less
          dignified manner, under the heaving
          thrusts of a sweaty Russell Crowe.

Cliff smirks as Lorraine crosses herself and Agnes shakes her
head.
                                                        23.


                    MONK (CONT'D)
              (reading)
          Irrespective of how I went, I ask
          that those closest to me not mourn
          all that much. I lived a life that
          made me proud. I was loved, and I
          loved in return. I found work that
          aroused my passions. I believe I
          gave more than I took, and I did my
          damndest to help people in need.
          And on top of all that, many a
          friend wrongly accused me of having
          botox because of how tight my skin
          stayed well into my 50s. What more
          could someone ask of a life? I love
          you all. Thank you for being here
          today. Goodbye.

Agnes and Lorraine are crying now. Monk folds the paper and
pockets it as he turns to his brother.

                     MONK (CONT'D)
          Cliff...

He reaches out and takes the urn from Cliff, then makes his
way toward the water. Monk removes the lid and lets Lisa's
ashes mix with the sand on the beach. A BYSTANDER ambles by.

                    BYSTANDER
          Are those human remains? Do you
          guys have a permit for that?

                    CLIFF
          Shut the fuck up, Phillip.

                    BYSTANDER
          Cliff, you don't talk to me like
          that.

                    CLIFF
          Fuck you. I just did.

                     BYSTANDER
          What?

                    CLIFF
          You want me to beat your ass?

                     BYSTANDER
              (backing away)
          I'm just--

Cliff starts after him.
                                                        24.


                    CLIFF
          Get the fuck outta here. I will eat
          your sweater vest for dinner.

                       BYSTANDER
          No--

                       CLIFF
          Bitch, go!

                    MONK
              (from afar)
          Get the fuck outta here, Phillip!

                    CLIFF
          One, two, three--

Cliff follows after Phillip as Monk spreads the remaining
ashes.

                    MONK
          Always been a fuckin' douche.


INT. BEACH HOUSE - KITCHEN - AFTERNOON

Monk comes inside to find Cliff sitting alone and having a
glass of wine, the bottle open on the coffee table.

                    MONK
          Where is everybody?

                    CLIFF
          They're exhausted. I gave Lorraine
          something to help her sleep.
          Mother's taking a bath and then
          I'll dose her, too.

                    MONK
          You think maybe I could get some of
          that later tonight?

                    CLIFF
          Yeah. You're not sleeping well?

                     MONK
          Normally I sleep fine. But
          just...lately.
              (then)
          Does seeing a dead body ever become
          normal?

                    CLIFF
          I don't know. I haven't seen many.
                                                        25.


                    MONK
          Really?

                    CLIFF
          I'm a plastic surgeon. If I'm
          looking at a corpse, then something
          went very awry.

                    MONK
          Right.

Monk picks up a wine glass and pours some from the bottle.

                    MONK (CONT'D)
          Yeah, it made me feel for Mother. I
          can't imagine what she went through
          finding Dad...like that.

                    CLIFF
          Yeah. So much death.

                    MONK
          When's the last time we were here
          together?

                    CLIFF
          Uh, maybe ten years. The kids were
          still little.

                    MONK
          How is your family, by the way?

                    CLIFF
          You actually care?

                    MONK
          Of course. Why would I ask? Why
          would you ask me that?

                    CLIFF
          I don't know, Monk. You never
          really call.

                    MONK
          I get busy.

                    CLIFF
          Everybody gets busy. You drift
          away.
              (shaking his head)
          You want to know how my family is?
          My wife left me because she caught
          me in bed with a man. She took the
          house, half my practice.
                    (MORE)
                                                        26.
                    CLIFF (CONT'D)
          My kids fucking hate me. And I
          still live in fucking Tucson.

                    MONK
          What's wrong with Tucson?

                    CLIFF
          Oh my god. There's one gay bar and
          it's full of college kids. One of
          them asked me if I was Tyler Perry.

                    MONK
          That's terrible. I mean, Tyler
          Perry lives in Atlanta, right?

                    CLIFF
          Pfft. Fuck you, man. Shut up.

                    MONK
          That's nowhere near Tucson.

They both laugh.

                    MONK (CONT'D)
          Did you know dad had affairs?

                    CLIFF
          Oh, for sure.

                    MONK
          How?

                    CLIFF
          You could just tell. Lisa told me
          she saw him kissing a white woman
          once.

                    MONK
          Why did I have no idea? Why am I
          the last to know?

                    CLIFF
          `cause you loved him too much.
          Enemies see each other better than
          friends.

An earth-rattling snort comes from the adjacent living room.
Monk goes to look and sees Lorraine sleeping in an almost
yogic pose while snoring. Monk turns back to Cliff.

                    MONK
          What the hell did you give her?
                                                           27.


                    CLIFF
          Oxycodone. Puts 'em right out.

                    MONK
          You gave her opioids to sleep?

                    CLIFF
          Yeah. You ever seen a heroin
          addict? Those guys take naps
          standing up.

                    MONK
          It's dangerous.

                    CLIFF
          Look, I'm keeping an eye on her.
          I'm a doctor.

                      MONK
          So am I.

                    CLIFF
          Right. Maybe if we need to revive a
          sentence.

                    MONK
          Um, well, uh -- why do you have
          synthetic smack anyway?

Cliff doesn't answer and instead looks to the ceiling behind
Monk.

                    CLIFF
          What is that?

Monk and Cliff stand and see that a small trickle of water is
dripping from the ceiling.

                      CLIFF (CONT'D)
          Ah, shit.


INT. BEACH HOUSE - SECOND FLOOR BATHROOM - MOMENTS LATER

There's water coming from under the bathroom door. Monk
knocks but nobody answers.

                      MONK
          Mother?

He knocks again.

                      MONK (CONT'D)
          Mother?
                                                           28.


Still no answer. Monk finally forces his way in. The bathtub
is overflowing and drenching the entire floor as Agnes sits
on a stool in her underwear, staring into nothingness.

                      MONK (CONT'D)
          Hey. Hey!

Monk shuts off the water and tries to rouse Agnes to
lucidity, but she remains unresponsive.

                    MONK (CONT'D)
          What are you doing? Hey!
              (then, softer)
          Mother, hey. Come on. Come on.

Monk wraps Agnes in a towel. This act finally breaks her
reverie.


EXT. BEACH HOUSE - AFTERNOON

Monk paces in front of the house as he chats on the phone. We
do not see who's on the end of the line.

                    MONK
          I'm not sure, to be honest with
          you. It's going to depend on what
          the doctors say...Yeah, I'll touch
          base when I know more...Thanks so
          much for being understanding.

An old station wagon pulls into a driveway across the street
and out of it steps CORALINE WILSON (early 40s, black,
dreadlocks). She begins to unpack groceries from her car.

                    MONK (CONT'D)
          Uh, hey, Leo, one more thing...I
          was wondering if, uh, maybe we
          could treat this as a sabbatical as
          opposed to a leave-of-absence.
          Whatever happens with my mom, it's
          going to cost some money.

There's a pause as Monk listens to Leo's response. As he does
this, Coraline accidentally drops a grocery bag, spilling
produce all over the street.

                    MONK (CONT'D)
          No, I understand...No, it's not
          your fault. I'll figure something
          out. Yeah. Thanks for your
          help...OK, bye-bye.

Monk hangs up and he runs across the street to help Coraline.
                                                        29.


                    CORALINE
          You don't have to do that.

                    MONK
          Oh, no. I do. It's tomato season.
          Can't let them go to waste. It's a
          crime around here.

They bag up all the errant groceries and stand.

                       CORALINE
          Thank you.

                    MONK
          That's what neighbors are for,
          right?

Monk turns to leave.

                    CORALINE
          Welcome to the neighborhood. I
          thought that place was vacant.

                    MONK
          Uh, it has been for a while. We
          just got here last night.

                    CORALINE
          I figured the place was haunted.
          They say some old man blew his
          brains out there a while back.

                       MONK
          Oh...yeah.

Coraline immediately realizes what she's done.

                    CORALINE
          Oh my god. I'm a fucking idiot.
          Please forgive me.


EXT. CORALINE'S HOUSE - EVENING

The house is aglow with light from inside.

                    CORALINE (PRE-LAP)
          I'm very sorry to hear that.


INT. CORALINE'S HOUSE - KITCHEN - EVENING

Coraline and Monk are having some wine as Coraline puts away
the groceries.
                                      30.


          CORALINE
What did she do for a living?

           MONK
She was a doctor. My whole family
is doctors basically. I'm the
outcast.
    (then)
What do you do for work?

          CORALINE
I'm a lawyer. Public defense.
Quincy.

          MONK
That's very honorable.

           CORALINE
Yeah. It's very hard. But it can be
rewarding.

          MONK
May I ask you something that I'm
sure a lot of people ask you?

          CORALINE
How do I feel defending guilty
people?

             MONK
Yeah.

             CORALINE
I love it.

             MONK
Why?

          CORALINE
You have to. And...they're all
guilty.

             MONK
Really?

          CORALINE
Yes. But that's OK. People are more
than their worst deed.

          MONK
I guess I agree with that.

          CORALINE
I'm sure you do. You're a writer.
                                                        31.


                    MONK
          I don't follow.

                    CORALINE
          Well, writers have to be
          nonjudgmental. You can't write
          interesting characters if you're
          critical of every bad decision they
          make, right?

                    MONK
          Maybe you should be the writer. I
          don't feel like much of one lately.

                    CORALINE
          You blocked?

                    MONK
          It's just--I don't think anybody
          wants to buy what I write.

                    CORALINE
          That's not true. I--I didn't want
          to say anything, but, uh, I
          actually read one of your books.

                    MONK
          Huh. Which?

                    CORALINE
          "The Frogs."

                    MONK
          Oh, so you're the one.

They laugh. The energy is becoming casually flirty.

                    CORALINE
          I liked it. You're talented.

From outside, the sound of a car engine chugs into earshot.

                    MONK
          Are you expecting company?

                    CORALINE
          Yeah.

When Coraline doesn't make to explain who it is, Monk gets
the message.

                    MONK
          Oh.
                                                        32.


JELANI (late 40s, black) enters.

                    JELANI
          Hello.

                    MONK
          Hi.

                    CORALINE
          Jelani, this is Monk. He and his
          family own the house across the
          street.

                    JELANI
          Nice to meet you.

                    MONK
          It's a pleasure.

                    JELANI
          Are you staying for dinner?

                    MONK
          Uh, no. I need to go check in on my
          mother.

                    JELANI
          Cool.

                    MONK
          Thank you, um--

Monk gulps down the rest of his wine.

                    MONK (CONT'D)
          For the wine. And, uh, good night.

                    CORALINE
          Goodnight, Monk.


EXT. CORALINE'S HOUSE - DUSK

As Monk makes his way down Coraline's front steps, we can
hear Jelani's laughter coming from the house.


EXT. BEACH HOUSE - MORNING

Monk and Cliff are packing up the car -- Lisa's old car -- as
they prepare to head back to the city.

                    MONK
          What time's your flight?
                                                           33.


                    CLIFF
          Eleven.

                    MONK
          Do you think you could change it?
          It'd be useful to have you at
          Mother's doctor's appointment
          today.

                    CLIFF
          I can't. I've got to get home.

                     MONK
          Fine. But can you chip in for her
          care once we find out what's what?
          It's probably going to be
          expensive.

                     CLIFF
          Things are tight right now, so --
              (then)
          Have you thought about firing
          Lorraine?

                    MONK
          Lorraine is family.

                    CLIFF
              (shrugging)
          Well, shit, Monk.I don't know what
          to tell you, alright.

                    MONK
          So you can't do anything?

                    CLIFF
          I will check with my accountant
          when I get back, alright?

Cliff pulls a vodka bottle out of his pocket and takes a
swig.

                    MONK
          It's eight in the morning.

                    CLIFF
          I'm not flying the fucking plane,
          Monk.

                    MONK
          Well, do you think you could be so
          kind as to go inside and see if
          Mother is ready to head out?
                                                        34.


                       CLIFF
          Ugh, fine.
              (then)
          Mother!

                    MONK
          Don't yell, man. Be civilized.

                    CLIFF
          You're just like our Dad, man.
          `till you do right by me, Monk. I
          swear to fucking God.

                    MONK
              (under his breath)
          Clown.

                    CLIFF (O.S.)
          Wanna see civilized? Mother!!

As soon as Cliff goes inside, Coraline, in a robe and pajama
pants, walks up. Jelani's car is still in front of her house.

                    CORALINE
          Good morning.

                    MONK
          Oh, hey. Good morning.

                    CORALINE
          Listen, about last night...

                    MONK
          Oh, it's okay. You don't have to
          explain. I had a good time.

                    CORALINE
          No I -- Jelani, he's, uh, my ex.
          Or, he's going to be. We're in the
          middle of breaking up and it's
          hard.

                       MONK
          I get it.

                    CORALINE
          I'd like to see you again. Do you
          think you'll be around town the
          next couple of days? Want to grab a
          drink?

                    MONK
          Yeah. I'd like that.
                                                        35.


                    CORALINE
          Yeah, me too. Drive safe.

                    MONK
          Thanks.

Monk watches her for a few beats as she walks away.


INT. DOCTOR'S OFFICE - WAITING ROOM - DAY

Monk is sitting in a chair reading a copy of The Atlantic. He
finishes an article and flips to the next page, where he
finds a picture of...Sintara Golden. The article is a rave
review of her book. We can tell it's a rave via closeups of
words like IMPORTANT and NECESSARY. After a short while, a
NURSE enters.

                    NURSE
          Mr. Ellison? We're ready.


INT. DOCTOR'S OFFICE - SAME TIME

Monk sits across from DR. BULGER (50s). The office is tidy.
Through glass, we can see Agnes sitting outside the office.

                    DR. BULGER
          Her MRI shows early signs of
          neurodegeneration. There's a slight
          decrease in the size of the
          temporal lobe, which suggests
          Alzheimer's.

Dr. Bulger gives Monk a moment to process this news.

                    DR. BULGER (CONT'D)
          I'm very sorry, Mr. Ellison. But at
          some point, she'll probably require
          round-the-clock care, for her own
          safety.

Monk peers out at Agnes, who looks sweet and a little lonely.


INT. MONK'S CHILDHOOD HOME - STUDY - NIGHT

Monk sits at his father's old desk in front of his laptop, on
which there's a blank Word document. Next to Monk is his copy
of The Atlantic, folded open to the Sintara Golden review.
The cursor on the empty page blinks mockingly at Monk. After
a few beats, he begins to type, and big, bold letters appear
atop the page:
                                                        36.


                          MY PAFOLOGY

                     by Stagg R. Leigh.

Monk hits return a couple times and starts to type again. The
camera moves behind the laptop now, so we can see Monk as he
types, determined, a glint of mischief in his eyes, a smirk
growing across his face.

The camera goes wide to show that there are now two men
standing in front of Monk's desk. These are two of the
characters he's conjuring in his novel: VAN GO JENKINS
(played by Michael B. Jordan) and WILLY THE WONKER (Samuel L.
Jackson). Willy is a junkie, visibly drunk. And Van Go is a
jittery young man with a gun in his waistband. Van Go has his
back to Willy.

                    WILLY
          Hey, young nigga!

Van pulls out his gun and turns to the source of the voice.

                    WILLY (CONT'D)
              (re: gun)
          Whoa! Whoa! Don't shoot me,
          pardner, come on.

Willy's swaying and slurring his words, but a hint of
recognition comes over him at the sight of Van Go.

                    WILLY (CONT'D)
          Van Go? That you?

                    VAN
          Yeah, it me, nigga. Shit, whatchu
          drunk mufucka?

                    WILLY
          Where you runnin' to?

                    VAN
          Just leave me alone, man.

                    WILLY
          How yo' mama?

                    VAN
          Whatchu say?

                    WILLY
          I say, how yo' mama?

Van Go grows increasingly enraged as Willy goes on.
                                                        37.


                    WILLY (CONT'D)
          Oh, shit. They ain't tell you?

                    VAN
          Whatchu talkin' 'bout, punk? Hey!
          Watchu talkin' `bout?

                    WILLY
          Think 'bout it, Van Go. Lookit my
          face. face. Lookit my midnight
          black complex-- no, that's not
          right.

Willy turns to Monk, breaking the fourth wall.

                    WILLY (CONT'D)
          What did you want to say? You can
          say it better than that, right?
          Come on. What you want?

Monk revises the document. As he types, Willy gets back into
character.

                     WILLY (CONT'D)
          Think `bout it, Van Go. Lookit my
          face. Lookit my coal black skin and
          then look at y'own. Look at my
          black eyes and then look at y'own.
          Look at my big black lips and look
          at y'own.
              (then)
          I's your daddy whether you likes it
          or not.

                    VAN
          Shut up! Shut up, man. You lyin'!

                    WILLY
          Nah, nah. That's the truth, nigga.

                    VAN
          Then where you been? Huh? Where you
          been?

                     WILLY
          I been where I always be --
          survivin'. You ain't worth a piss.
          Yo' mama ain't worth a piss. So,
          here I am.

Van's distraught, filled with rage. He stares angrily at the
man in front of him. But after a few beats, he turns to Monk.
                                                         38.


                    VAN
          What do I say now?

                    MONK
          I think now will come some sort of,
          you know, like, some sort of dumb,
          melodramatic sob story to highlight
          your broken interiority. Something
          like, uh, I dunno...

Monk goes back to typing. As he does, Van turns back to focus
on Willy. As Monk types, Van breaks into his soliloquy.

                    VAN
          I hates this man. I hates my mama.
          And I hates myself. I'm seein' my
          face in his. I see the ape that all
          them stupid girls were afraid of,
          yeah. I see my long arms hangin'
          down. And I see eyes that don't
          care what happens tomorrow. I see
          myself rockin' back on my heels,
          just like this baby, just waitin',
          and waitin', and waitin', and
          waitin' for sumpin that I'm not
          even gonna recognize when it come.
          Death is my only cure. I heard that
          before. I been hearin' it. And I'm
          hearin' it now. I see...I see my
          Mama cryin', I see her screamin' in
          my dreams. I see my babies. I see
          my-- I see my daddy. I see myself.

Out of nowhere, he shoots Willy in the gut. Willy doubles
over and looks up at Van, clenching his wound as blood
darkens his clothing.

                    WILLY
          What tha fuck? Whatchu do that
          fo'?! the fuck was that fo'?!

Van, tears streaming down his face, stands over Willy.

                    VAN
          Cause you ain't shit, nigga! And
          you made me! So `cause you ain't
          shit, I ain't shit. 'Cause you
          ain't shit, I ain't shit.

Van hears the distant sound of police sirens.
                                                        39.


                    VAN (CONT'D)
          I gots to bounce.
              (then, to Monk)
          Peace, mufucka.

                    MONK
          Peace.

Van sprints out of the room as Willy writhes on the floor.

                    WILLY
              (to Monk)
          What the fuck was that fo'!?


INT. MONK'S CHILDHOOD HOME - BEDROOM - DAY

Monk watches TV in bed. The channel announces an upcoming
"Black Stories Month." It shows clips of the movies being
honored: gang violence in Baby Boy, slaves lined up in
Antebellum, a teen mother in Precious, police brutality in
Straight Outta Compton, Chris Rock's character smoking crack
in New Jack City, Morris Chestnut shot in the back in Boyz N'
The Hood. Monk's cellphone buzzes. He looks and smiles when
he sees who's calling.

                    MONK
          Hello?


INT. ARTHUR'S OFFICE - DAY

                    ARTHUR
              (reading from the printed
              manuscript)
          "I be standin' outside in the
          night. A police chopper go by and
          shine some lights in some backyards
          and I think, shine that light on me
          mufucka. Shine me some fuckin'
          light so I can see where the fuck I
          be at."

Monk laughs.

INTERCUT PHONE CONVERSATION

                    ARTHUR (CONT'D)
          Are you serious?

                    MONK
          You'll notice I didn't put my name
          to it.
                                      40.


          ARTHUR
Yes, "Stagg R. Leigh." I did notice
that. Well done. But I still can't
send this out.

          MONK
You said you wanted black stuff.
What's blacker than that? It's got
deadbeat dads, rappers, crack --
and he's killed by the cops in the
end. I mean, that's black, right?

          ARTHUR
I see what you're doing.

           MONK
Good, because it's not subtle. I
mean, how's that book so different
from some of the other garbage they
put there?

          ARTHUR
That's not the point.

           MONK
Well, it's my point. Look at what
they publish. Look at what they
expect us to write. I'm sick of it.
And this is an expression of how
sick I am.

          ARTHUR
Monk, I'm trying to sell books. Not
be a part of some crusade. Who do
you expect to publish this?

          MONK
No one. I just want to rub their
noses in the horse shit they
solicit.

          ARTHUR
OK. What do you want me to do?

          MONK
I want you to send it out.

          ARTHUR
Can I say it's performance art?

          MONK
No, send it straight. If they can't
take the joke, then fuck them.
                                                        41.


                    ARTHUR
          Alright, but I'm only sending it to
          a couple places. This thing scares
          me.

                    MONK
          Scares you? Why?

                    ARTHUR
          Because white people think they
          want the truth, but they don't.
          They just want to feel absolved.

                    MONK
          Well, fortunately that's not my
          problem. Bye.


EXT. ICE CREAM SHOP - AFTERNOON

Monk and Coraline are eating ice cream cones as they walk
down a path cutting through some tall grass.

                    MONK
          I'm surprised you reached out. I
          thought you were just being nice.

                    CORALINE
          I'm never just being nice. I'm too
          old for that. I liked you so much,
          in fact, that I went out and got
          another one of your books.

                    MONK
          Really? Which one?

                    CORALINE
          "The Haas Conundrum."

                    MONK
          What'd you think?

                    CORALINE
          I liked it! Susan has really great
          dialogue. And I loved the aunt. You
          write women well.

                    MONK
          You think so?

                    CORALINE
          Yeah, they aren't hothouse flowers.
                                                          42.


                    MONK
          Thank you. I appreciate that.

                    CORALINE
          I could have done with fewer
          footnotes, though.

They laugh.


INT. CORALINE'S HOUSE - BEDROOM - SUNSET

The sun is setting outside the window as Monk puts his
clothes back on in Coraline's bedroom. Coraline enters,
wearing only a robe, from an adjoining bathroom.

                    MONK
          I've got to run.

                    CORALINE
          How's your mom?

                    MONK
          In and out. I'm afraid to be away
          for too long, but, uh, I'll call
          you.

                    CORALINE
          Hold on a minute.

Coraline retrieves her copy of "The Haas Conundrum" and a pen
from her dresser.

                    CORALINE (CONT'D)
          Sign my book.

Monk opens the book to sign it.

                    MONK
          What's your name again?

They both laugh. She and Monk kiss before Monk heads toward
the door.


INT. MONK'S CHILDHOOD HOME - NIGHT

The home is completely dark when Monk walks in the door. He
flicks a light switch, but nothing happens.

                      LORRAINE (O.S.)
          Mr. Monk?
                                                          43.


Monk turns on his smartphone flashlight and uses it to guide
himself forward as Lorraine steps out of the kitchen holding
a camping lantern.

                    MONK
          What's going on with the lights?

                     LORRAINE
          Ms. Lisa used to pay the bills.
              (then)
          Did you?


INT. CLIFF'S HOME - KITCHEN - AFTERNOON

Cliff is in trousers and an unbuttoned shirt eating fast
food. Lines of cocaine are in front of him on a small mirror.
A French pop song from the 1980s is blasting in the
background. Cliff does a line.

                      CLIFF
          How much?


INT. MONK'S CHILDHOOD HOME - FORMAL LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

Monk, lit by candlelight, is on the telephone. His laptop is
open in front of him and a glass of scotch is nearby.

                    MONK
          Well, I can handle the electric
          bills, but these care facilities
          are expensive.

INTERCUT PHONE CONVERSATION

                    MONK (CONT'D)
          The best one nearby is $5,600 a
          month. And that's for a shared
          room. It goes up to $6,900 a month
          for a private room.

                    CLIFF
          Why are you looking at the best
          one? She wasn't the best mother.

                    MONK
          I'm not calling to re-litigate our
          childhoods.

                    CLIFF
          Of course not. `Cause yours was
          great.
                                                          44.


                    MONK
          Goddamnit. Are you going to help
          me, or not?

                     CLIFF
          Won't Medicaid cover it or
          something?

                     MONK
          That's not how it works. You don't
          know this?

A man, CLAUDE (Latino, 30s, also shirtless), enters the
frame.

                     CLIFF
              (to Claude)
          Oh, hello.

Claude and Cliff kiss before Claude snorts a line of coke.

                    MONK
          Who's that? What are you doing?

                    CLIFF
          I've taken a lover.

                    MONK
          You've "taken a lover"?

                    CLIFF
          Yeah. Do you have a problem with
          that, homophobe?

                    MONK
          Listen, I'm not offended that
          you've taken a lover, Cliff. I'm
          offended, Cliff, that you call it
          taking a lover.

                    CLIFF
          You can eat shit, Nigga.

Cliff hangs up and follows after Claude.

                    CLIFF (CONT'D)
          I'll take my lover right now.
              (calling after Claude)
          Hey, where you goin'?

Back on Monk, who sets down his phone calmly and then slams
his laptop shut.
                                                         45.


INT. ARTHUR'S OFFICE - DAY

Arthur is pacing around in silence when Monk walks in.

                    ARTHUR
          There you are.

                    MONK
          Traffic was insane. What's up?

                       ARTHUR
          Sit down.

Monk sits, but Arthur stays standing.

                    ARTHUR (CONT'D)
          We sold your book.

                    MONK
          Holy shit. I thought it was DOA.

                    ARTHUR
          Not "The Persians."

Monk looks confused at first and then...

                       MONK
          No.
               (off Arthur's nod)
          Get out.

                    ARTHUR
          Paula Baderman, from Thompson-Watt.

                    MONK
          She always passes.

                    ARTHUR
          Not this time. They want to pre-
          empt for $750,000.

Monk's eyes go wide.

                    MONK
          No one's ever offered that much to
          me.

                    ARTHUR
          This is you.

                    MONK
          No it's not, Arthur.
                                                        46.


                    ARTHUR
          You wrote it.

                       MONK
          As a joke.

                    ARTHUR
          Well, now it's the most lucrative
          joke you've ever told.

                    MONK
          And I'm not selling.

                       ARTHUR
          Why not?

                    MONK
          Because it's trash, Arthur. You
          didn't even want to send it out the
          other day. But look who's suddenly
          overcome his fears.

                    ARTHUR
          I know. I broke the first rule of
          sales: Never underestimate how
          stupid everyone is.

                    MONK
          Well, I'm not participating in
          making them any stupider.

                     ARTHUR
          Well, you haven't...thus far, which
          is admirable. But you also haven't
          made any money.
                (then)
          Doesn't your mom need help these
          days?

Monk considers this.

                    ARTHUR (CONT'D)
          Check this out.

Arthur goes to a bar car in the corner of his office.

                    MONK
          I don't care how drunk we get, I'm
          not selling it.

                    ARTHUR
          That's not what I'm doing.
                                                        47.


Arthur picks out three bottles, which he then brings back to
his desk, where he begins arranging them with his back to
Monk. The bottles set how he wants them, Arthur turns and
shows us what he's put together: three types of Johnnie
Walker -- Red, Black, and Blue -- aligned in that order.

                    ARTHUR (CONT'D)
          Johnnie Walker Red, twenty-four
          bucks. Johnnie Walker Black, fifty
          bucks. Johnnie Walker Blue, one-
          hundred-and-sixty dollars. You see
          the metaphor?

                    MONK
          No.

                    ARTHUR
          These are all made by the same
          company. The Red is shit, the Black
          is less shit, and the Blue is good.
          But fewer people buy the Blue,
          because it's expensive, and at the
          end of the day, most people just
          want to get drunk. For most of your
          career, your books have been Blue --
          they're good, they're complex, but
          they're not popular, because most
          people want something easy. Now,
          for the first time ever, you've
          written a Red book. It's simple,
          prurient. It's not great
          literature, but it satisfies an
          urge, and that's valuable.
               (off Monk's face)
          What I'm trying to illustrate is
          that just because you do Red
          doesn't mean you can't also do
          Blue. You can do it all, like
          Johnnie Walker. In fact, you've got
          Johnnie Walker beat, because you
          don't even have to put your real
          name on it.

Monk mulls over Arthur's point for a moment.

                    MONK
              (shaking his head)
          Jesus. Do we drink now?


INT. ARTHUR'S OFFICE - MOMENTS LATER

Monk and Arthur clink their glasses and drink. A bottle of
Johnnie Walker Red sits between them. They're both looking at
                                                           48.


Arthur's office phone, which is ringing on speaker as they
try to contact PAULA BADERMAN (white, 50s).

                       PAULA
          Hello?

                    ARTHUR
          Hello, Paula.


INT. THOMPSON-WATT - PAULA BADERMAN'S OFFICE - SAME TIME

Paula's office is crowded with books and manuscripts. Slight
hints to her leftist leanings dot the space: a "Resist"
poster, a framed picture of RBG in a crown, etc. Paula is the
kind of nice, white neoliberal who will gladly vote for
Bernie but then balk at the idea of low-income housing on her
block.

                    PAULA
          Arthur! So wonderful to hear from
          you. I hope you're with the man of
          the hour.

INTERCUT PHONE CONVERSATION

                    ARTHUR
          I am indeed. He's right here next
          to me.

                       PAULA
          Mr. Leigh?

                    MONK
          This is he.

                    PAULA
              (surprised) )
          Oh...really?

Arthur signals for Monk to enhance his response, so Monk
begrudgingly puts some bass in his voice.

                    MONK
          Yeah, goddamnit. Motherfucker!

Arthur gives a thumbs up. Paula is immediately more at ease.

                    PAULA
               (phew)
          Oh, OK. I was a little confused at
          first, but--
                                                        49.


                    ARTHUR
          We're both very excited to discuss
          Thompson-Watt's offer.

                    PAULA
          Yes. Well, first, let me say that
          all of us here at Thompson-Watt are
          thrilled with "My Pafology." It is
          about as perfect a book as I've
          seen in a long, long while -- just
          raw, and real. Mr. Leigh, is this
          based on your actual life?

                    MONK
          Yeah. You think some bitch-ass
          college boy can come up with this
          shit?

                    PAULA
          No, no, I don't. You know, that
          kind of visceral energy cannot be
          taught, right? Stagg, may I call
          you -- now is Stagg a pseudonym?

                    ARTHUR
               (grasping for a lie)
          Yes, uh, it is. Mr. Leigh can't use
          his real name because he's
          a...well, he's a wanted fugitive.

                    PAULA
          Oh my god. Wow.

                    ARTHUR
          That's why this couldn't be a video
          conference.

Monk's eyes go wide toward Arthur, who gives him a wink. Monk
mutes the phone.

                    MONK
          Are you crazy? What if they fact
          check this?

                    ARTHUR
          Fact check? There's barely money to
          pay editors anymore. Just go with
          it.

Arthur unmutes the phone.
                                                        50.


                    MONK
          Uh, yeah, I did a, uh...a twelve
          year bid, but no goin' back. Nah
          mean?

                    PAULA
          Yeah. Yeah. You know, um, I've been
          reading a lot about the prison
          abolition movement--

                    MONK
              (under his breath, as
               Paula trails on)
          Oh god...

                    ARTHUR
               (interrupting)
          I'm sorry to rush, Paula, but can
          we talk business? Mr. Leigh values
          his time outside of a cell.

                    PAULA
          Of course. I'm sure you're both
          busy, so I'll get right to it.
          You'll notice that our offer is
          unusually large. And that is
          because we think Mr. Leigh has
          written a best-seller. We think
          this is going to be the read of the
          summer.

                    MONK
          Yeah, I'm sure white people on the
          Hamptons will delight in it.

                    PAULA
          Yes, we will.
              (then, clearly confused)
          Th--they--we?...it's gonna be huge.
          Huge. I love it.


EXT. BEACH HOUSE - AFTERNOON

Monk's unpacking the car by himself when a security guard
pulls up in one of those quasi-cop cars. This security guard
is MAYNARD (black, late 60s).

                    MAYNARD
          Is that little Thelonious Ellison?

Monk turns to look.
                                                        51.


                    MONK
          My god. Maynard.

Maynard steps out of his car and he and Monk shake hands.

                    MAYNARD
          Everyone still call you Monk?

                    MONK
          Well, everyone but you.

                    MAYNARD
          Thelonious is a beautiful name.
          Seems sinful to not say it whole.

                    MONK
          Well, I'm happy somebody
          appreciates it.

                    MAYNARD
          I heard about your sister. My
          condolences.

                       MONK
          Thank you.

                    MAYNARD
          I don't think I've seen you since
          before your father passed.

                    MONK
          Yeah, it's been a while. I live in
          LA now.

                     MAYNARD
          Hollywood! Hey, do you write for
          that NCIS?

                    MONK
          Just books.

                    MAYNARD
          Well you should try to write for
          NCIS. It's popular.

                     MONK
          Well, maybe I will.
              (then)
          So, how you been?

                    MAYNARD
          Oh, I'm good. And you?
                                                           52.


                         LORRAINE (O.S.)
             Mr. Monk!

Lorraine comes out of the house already mid-sentence.

                       LORRAINE (CONT'D)
             What would you like for dinner?

Lorraine stops when she sees Maynard, who smiles when he sees
her.

                         LORRAINE (CONT'D)
             Maynard.

                       MAYNARD
             Hi, Lorraine. It's been a dog's
             age.

The two look at each other as if Monk's not even there.
There's clearly a current of electricity between them.

                       LORRAINE
             Well, I guess it has. You look
             well.

                        MAYNARD
             You too.
                 (then)
             Well, I best be getting back. Good
             to see you, Thelonious.

                         MONK
             You too.

                       MAYNARD
                 (to Lorraine)
             Lorraine.

Maynard gets back in his car and drives off. As Lorraine
heads back inside, she notices Monk smiling at her.

                       LORRAINE
             Ain't nothing to smile at.

He laughs.


INT. BEACH HOUSE - FRONT DOOR - AFTERNOON

It's golden hour. There's a knock on the door.

                       MONK
                 (from the living room)
             There she is. Behave yourself.
                                                           53.


Monk swings open the front door to find Coraline there with a
bottle of wine and some flowers.

Behind him, Lorraine sets the table for an early meal.

                      CORALINE
          Hi.

Monk and Coraline share a quick kiss.

                    CORALINE (CONT'D)
              (re: wine)
          Got this for you.

                     MONK
          Thank you.
              (then, to Lorraine)
          Lorraine, this is Coraline.

                      LORRAINE
          Welcome.

                      CORALINE
          Hello.

When they hear footsteps coming down the stairs, they turn to
see Agnes.

                    MONK
          Oh, mother. Perfect timing. This is
          Coraline.

                    AGNES
          Hello, dear. I'm Agnes.

                    CORALINE
          Such a pleasure to meet you. I
          brought you these.

She hands Agnes the flowers.

                    AGNES
          Dahlias are my favorite. There's a
          whole world inside them.

Agnes puts her arm around Coraline and kisses her on the
cheek with a warmth that Monk was not expecting.

                      AGNES (CONT'D)
          Lorraine.

Agnes hands the flowers to Lorraine.
                                                         54.


                    MONK
          Mother, you sit here...

Monk helps Agnes into her seat.

                    MONK (CONT'D)
          Alright. And Coraline, why don't
          you sit across from mother?

Coraline and Monk take their seats.

                    AGNES
              (to Coraline)
          I'm happy you're not white.

                    CORALINE
          Me too.


INT. CORALINE'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

Monk and Coraline sip nightcaps on the sofa as the sun sets.

                    MONK
          ...yeah, it was pretty funny. I
          think you remind her of my sister.

                    CORALINE
          Hmm. Well, do you think we look
          alike?

                    MONK
          No, but you're both self-assured,
          and funny, and you're
          both...fantastic kissers.

They laugh and then begin to kiss, gently at first, and then
more deeply. The calm evening is interrupted when they hear
Lorraine calling for help. Monk and Coraline both stand and
rush to investigate.


EXT. CORALINE'S HOUSE - NIGHT

Monk and Coraline exit to find Lorraine in a frenzy as
Maynard tries to calm her down.

                    MONK
          What's wrong?

                    LORRAINE
          I'd just stepped out for a moment
          to have a cup of coffee with
          Maynard. I was right in front.
                                                           55.


                    MONK
          Where's Mother?

                    LORRAINE
          I don't know. The back door was
          open. She's gone.

                     MONK
          What?

                    MAYNARD
          We should split up.
               (then, handing Monk the
               flashlight from his belt)
          Here. I've got more in the car.

Monk takes the flashlight and bolts away.


EXT. BEACH - NIGHT

Monk runs down the beach with his flashlight looking for
Agnes.

                    MONK
          Mother! Mother!

After some frantic searching, Monk sees something in the
distance: Agnes, in her robe and slippers, walking
dangerously close to the water, oblivious to the chaos. Monk
sprints after her.

                    MONK (CONT'D)
          Mother! Hey! Mother!

But Agnes doesn't respond, doesn't even look in Monk's
direction.

                    MONK (CONT'D)
          Hey! Hey! Stop! Hey!

Monk finally catches up to her, but she resists his efforts
to intervene.

                    MONK (CONT'D)
          Where are you going?

                    AGNES
          Lisa's out there! Roughhousing with
          the cousins. Somebody's going to
          get hurt.

                    MONK
          Stop! I will go tell her, OK?
                                                        56.


                    AGNES
          Yeah, but they--

Monk wraps his arm around Agnes and leads her back toward the
house.

                    MONK
          I will take you back to the house,
          and then I will go tell her.

                    AGNES
          But they're out there!

                    MONK
          I know. I know.

                    AGNES
          OK. You sure?

                    MONK
          I will tell her.

                       AGNES
                (finally starting to calm
                 down)
          OK.

                    MONK
          C'mon. It's too cold out there.

                    AGNES
          Lisa doesn't swim very well.

                    MONK
          I know. OK. Almost there. Alright.

Coraline, Maynard, and Lorraine rush to Agnes with a blanket.

                    MONK (CONT'D)
          Okay, Monkey.


INT. SUNRISE ELDER CARE HOME - LIBRARY - DAY


Monk and Agnes walk with LUZ BORQUEZ (40s, Latina, pantsuit),
who's showing them the facilities. It's cozy and dignified,
not clinical or sparse like some retirement homes. A couple
RETIREES read in chairs dotting the space.

                    LUZ
          And this is our library. It's full
          of all the classics, and we try to
          get some new releases, too.
                    (MORE)
                                                           57.
                    LUZ (CONT'D)
               (to Agnes)
          Do you like to read, Mrs. Ellison?

                       AGNES
          No.

                    MONK
          That's not true. She loves to read.
          She taught me to love reading.

                    LUZ
               (to Agnes)
          Perhaps we can get some of your
          son's books in here and you can
          lead a book club?

Agnes ignores her and wanders away into the hall.

                       MONK
          I'm sorry.

                     LUZ
          It's fine. It's hard for a lot of
          the residents at first, but she'll
          settle in.

                    MONK
          Right. I appreciate all your help.
          But, uh, how soon do you think we
          get her in?

                    LUZ
          In about a month. You can start the
          paperwork today if you'd like.

                    MONK
          Great. I'd like that.

Monk looks around for Agnes. At the same time, his phone
starts to ring.

                    LUZ
          I'll go check in on mom.


EXT. SUNRISE ELDER CARE HOME - DAY

Monk sits down on an empty bench to take his call.

                       MONK
          Hello?
                                                        58.


INT. CARL BRUNT'S OFFICE - SAME TIME

It's a small office laden with books of all shapes and sizes.
CARL BRUNT (60s, white, patrician) is professorially stuffy.

                    CARL
          Hello, Thelonious. My name is Carl
          Brunt. I'm the director of the New
          England Book Association.

INTERCUT PHONE CONVERSATION

                    MONK
          Hi, Carl. I know who you are.

                    CARL
          Oh, good. Then perhaps you also
          know that each year my organization
          bestows the somewhat pretentiously
          named Literary Award.

                    MONK
          Every writer knows the Literary
          Award, Carl. Especially those of us
          who haven't won it.

Carl laughs a little.

                    CARL
          Well, that's related to why I'm
          calling. Like many American
          institutions, mine was recently
          rattled by the notion that our lack
          of diversity has led to a blindspot
          in our work. So we're kind of
          trying to remedy that and, to that
          end, I was wondering how you might
          feel about being a judge for this
          year's award.

Monk pauses his browsing for a moment.

                    MONK
          Um, let me say first say, Carl,
          that I'm honored you'd choose me
          out of all the black writers you
          could go to for fear of being
          called racist.

                    CARL
              (oblivious)
          Yeah, you're very welcome.
                                                           59.


                    MONK
          But I think this sounds like a lot
          of work.

                    CARL
          Yeah, I can't deny that. I mean,
          you're going to have to read dozens
          of books. We could offer you a
          modest stipend.

                    MONK
          Even so, I'm not sure.

                    CARL
          OK. One other crass perk I
          reference when people are on the
          fence is that this will allow you
          the opportunity to literally judge
          other writers for once, rather than
          just figuratively.

Monk considers this for a moment.

                    MONK
          Alright. I'm in.

                    CARL
          Fantastic. OK. Great. So you're
          going to be one of five judges. The
          only one we have confirmed so far
          is Sintara Golden. Are you familiar
          her work?

                     MONK
          Vaguely.


INT. MONK'S CHILDHOOD HOME - FORMAL LIVING ROOM - DAY

Monk is lying on the couch reading when Lorraine enters,
carrying a tray of food and a beverage.

                    LORRAINE
          I brought you lunch, Mr. Monk.

Monk sits up, surprised.

                    MONK
          Wow. To what do I owe the pleasure?

                    LORRAINE
          Well, I have a favor to ask.

Lorraine hesitates for a beat. She's nervous to ask.
                                                           60.


                    LORRAINE (CONT'D)
          I was wondering if I might be able
          to take the afternoon off. Maynard
          just came in from the beach and we
          thought it might be nice to visit a
          museum.

                    MONK
          Yes, of course. I'm free today, so
          I can look after Mother.

Lorraine smiles, clearly grateful. She turns to leave, but
Monk calls after her.

                    MONK (CONT'D)
          Lorraine. You really like him, huh?

                    LORRAINE
          He's a fine man.

Lorraine exits and Monk starts to eat his lunch. After a
bite, his phone buzzes. Monk answers.

                    MONK
          Yeah?


INT. ARTHUR'S OFFICE - DAY

Monk and Agnes enter Arthur's office, where Arthur sits with
an assistant, LAYNE (20s).

                    ARTHUR
          The guests of honor!
              (to Agnes)
          Hello, Mrs. Ellison. Looking
          beautiful as ever.

Arthur hugs Agnes and kisses her on the cheek.

                    AGNES
          Hello, Arthur.

                    ARTHUR
               (to assistant)
          Layne, would you take Mrs. Ellison
          to the kitchen and set her up with
          some tea?

                    LAYNE
          Right this way, ma'am.

                    MONK
          Mother, I won't be long.
                                                   61.


                    AGNES
          Take your time.

Layne ushers Agnes out.

                    ARTHUR
               (calling)
          Not the pods! The good tea -- for
          guests!

Arthur closes the door and immediately dives in.

                    ARTHUR (CONT'D)
               (re: Monk's clothes)
          What is this? I told you to dress
          street.

                    MONK
          I did.

                    ARTHUR
          Fuckin' Sesame Street.

                    MONK
          What's this guy's name? Willy?

                    ARTHUR
          Wiley. Wiley Valdespino. He
          specializes in Oscar-baity
               (air quotes)
          "issue" movies. He did the Middle
          Passage one last year.

                    MONK
          Somehow I didn't see that.

                    ARTHUR
          Of course not; you're not
          lobotomized. But if he adapts your
          book, you stand to make a lot of
          money.

                    MONK
          Why can't we just do a phone call?

                    ARTHUR
          Well, he said if he's going to cut
          a check this large then he needs to
          meet in person.

                    MONK
          Alright, what do I need to do?
                                                        62.


                    ARTHUR
          Just make him like you. When I
          talked to him, he seemed thrilled
          that you're a fugitive. Just, you
          know, play that up.

                    MONK
          What if he recognizes me?

                       ARTHUR
          You?

                    MONK
          Yeah. The real me.

                    ARTHUR
          Monk, you're not that famous. And
          nobody in Hollywood reads. They get
          their assistants to read things and
          then summarize them. The whole town
          runs on book reports.

                    MONK
          Are you sure you can look after my
          mother?

                    ARTHUR
          She won't leave my sight. You'll
          just be across the street anyway.
               (looking at watch)
          You should go. You'll be late. He's
          waiting for you.

                       MONK
          Well...

After thinking for a beat, Monk takes a seat.

                    MONK (CONT'D)
          If he wants a stereotype, maybe
          it's better I'm late.


INT. SOUTH END RESTAURANT - DAY

Monk gets into character as he enters the restaurant. He
approaches a booth in a corner of the main room, where WILEY
(white, 50s, bro-ey) sits. Wiley stands to greet Monk.

                    WILEY
          Stagg, I presume.

                       MONK
          That's me.
                                                63.


Wiley and Monk shake.

                    WILEY
          Hey. I'm Wiley. Nice to meet you,
          brother.

Monk and Wiley sit.

                    WILEY (CONT'D)
          Sorry about the bourgie restaurant.
          My assistant picked it. We can go
          somewhere else if you're
          uncomfortable.

                    MONK
          This is fine.

A SERVER approaches.

                    WILEY
          What're you drinking?

                    MONK
          I'll have a chenin blanc.

                    MONK (CONT'D)
          Your driest.

The server departs.

                       WILEY
          Ha.

                    MONK
          What's funny?

                    WILEY
          Just a strange order for a guy like
          you.

                    MONK
          Why's that?

                    WILEY
          Just don't see too many convicts
          drinking white wine.

                    MONK
          You know many convicts?

                    WILEY
          You'd be surprised. I spent a month
          in the joint myself. It was some
          interstate commerce shit.
                    (MORE)
                                                        64.
                     WILEY (CONT'D)
          It was a short stay, but I'll tell
          you what: That experience grounded
          me. The people I met in there
          allowed me to see a whole new world
          of underrepresented stories from
          underrepresented storytellers.
              (then)
          Can I ask what you were in for?

                    MONK
          I don't like to talk about that.
          You feel me?

                    WILEY
          Was it murder?

                    MONK
          You said that, not me.

Wiley stiffens in his seat.

                    WILEY
          You know, I gotta tell you. Before
          you showed up, I was a little
          worried you might be a phony. A lot
          of fakes in Hollywood.

                    MONK
          Well, I'm not from Hollywood.

As Wiley speaks, Monk notices the sound of sirens. Not too
strange in a city, but they seem to be getting closer.

                     WILEY
          Yeah, no. That's obvious. Clearly
          you're cut from a different cloth
          than your average screenwriter.
              (then)
          Let me ask you. I know they sent
          you some of my stuff. Did you have
          a chance to see any of my movies?

Wiley stops talking and Monk realizes he has no idea what
he's said.

                    MONK
          Sorry, sorry. What did you say?

                    WILEY
          Have you seen any of my movies?

                     MONK
          Uh, nah.
                                                         65.


                    WILEY
          OK. Well, look. I like to pair
          genre with real-world pathos, which
          sort of elevates things. You might
          be interested in this new one we're
          about to shoot, actually. It's
          about this white couple. They get
          married on an old plantation in
          Louisiana and all the slave ghosts
          come back, and they murder
          everyone.

                      MONK
          Dear god.

                     WILEY
          I know. It's great, right? It's
          called "Plantation Annihilation."
          Ryan Reynolds gets decapitated with
          an Afro pick in the opening scene.
              (then)
          He's a friend.

An ambulance pulls up to the building across the street, its
siren roaring. An EMT leaps from the vehicle and rushes
inside. Now Monk's really worried.

                    MONK
          I've got to go.

Monk stands and quickly runs from the table.


INT. BUILDING STAIRWELL - MOMENTS LATER

Monk is sprinting up the flights of stairs to Arthur's
office, on the seventh floor.

                    MONK
          Mother! Mother!


INT. ARTHUR'S OFFICE - CONTINUOUS

When Monk finally reaches the office, everyone turns to look
at the commotion, including Arthur and Agnes, who are sitting
in Arthur's office and chatting politely. Monk feels
ridiculous.


INT. ARTHUR'S OFFICE - BATHROOM - MOMENTS LATER

Monk is peeing when Arthur enters.
                                                        66.


                    ARTHUR
          Some ad exec on the third floor had
          an aneurysm.

                    MONK
          Awful.

                    ARTHUR
          I know. Imagine exploding your
          brain trying to think up a toilet
          paper commercial.

                    MONK
          I assume Wiley's not interested. I
          sprinted out of there like a
          complete maniac.

                    ARTHUR
          Actually, he's offering $4,000,000
          for the rights.

                    MONK
          What?

                    ARTHUR
               (nodding)
          Yeah, man! He called you "the real
          deal." Said that you took off the
          moment you heard police sirens.

Monk stares at Arthur's elated face in disbelief for a beat.

                    MONK
          The dumber I behave, the richer I
          get.

                    ARTHUR
          Now you know why my parents moved
          here from Puerto Rico.


INT. MONK'S CHILDHOOD HOME - STUDY - DAY

Monk sits in front of his laptop with a cup of coffee. He's
on a Zoom call with the other NBA judges: WILSON HARNET
(white, 60s), AILENE HOOVER (white, 50s), DANIEL SIGMARSEN
(white, 50s, grumpy cowboy), and Sintara Golden.
                                                67.


INT. WILSON'S OFFICE - DAY

                    WILSON
          I mean, we can't be expected to
          read every novel all the way
          through, right?


INT. AILENE'S OFFICE - DAY

                    AILENE
          What? No. People have worked hard
          on these books. We have to respect
          that.

                    WILSON
          Hard work doesn't demand respect.
          You know, people worked hard on the
          Third Reich.

                    AILENE
          Well, I feel that we owe it to them
          to read every page.


INT. DANIEL'S DEN - DAY

                    DANIEL
          That is such horse shit. I mean,
          most of it's going to be that
          Knausgĺrd autofiction crap anyhow.
          I'll tell you right now -- I'm not
          reading 600 pages about some
          pretentious jackwagon discovering
          masturbation. Sorry.


INT. SINTARA'S OFFICE - DAY

                    SINTARA
          OK. Look, I think we're all
          experienced enough to assess the
          general quality of something within
          100 pages. If you want to read
          beyond that, that's your
          prerogative.

                    AILENE
          Well how do you feel, Monk?

                    MONK
          Uh, I agree with Sintara, actually.
          I think 100 pages is sufficient.
                                                        68.


                    DANIEL
          You know, this is all a crock,
          anyway. I mean, pitting art against
          other art for awards -- like it's
          not subjective -- it's absurd.

                    AILENE
          Then why did you agree to be a
          judge if you feel that way?

                    DANIEL
          Well, because it's either me or
          some other Brooklyn hack who
          doesn't think there's a world
          beyond the Hudson River, Ailene.

                    AILENE
          It's the East River, if you're in
          Brooklyn, Daniel.

                    SINTARA
          You know what? Art is subjective,
          but I think this is an opportunity
          to highlight books that might
          otherwise be undervalued. Book
          sales are plummeting right now, so
          perhaps this award can give someone
          a real chance at a career in this
          industry.

                    MONK
              (begrudgingly)
          Hear, hear.


INT. SUNRISE ELDER CARE HOME - AGNES' ROOM - DAY

Monk, Coraline, and Lorraine are helping Agnes settle in to
her room at the home. Coraline is going through boxes as Monk
hangs a landscape painting. Lorraine and Agnes are seated at
the room's small dining table.

                    MONK
          Where do you want this, Mother? I
          thought it it might look nice here,
          with this the natural light.

                    AGNES
          I don't care. I never liked that
          painting, anyway.

                    MONK
          OK, well, I'll bring some more
          things from home next week.
                    (MORE)
                                                           69.
                     MONK (CONT'D)
           And you just tell me the pieces you
           like, and I'll bring them.

An ORDERLY comes in with lunch: a sandwich on wheat bread and
some sides.

                     ORDERLY
           We've got your lunch ready for you,
           Mrs. Ellison.

He sets the food on a dining tray next to Agnes.

                     CORALINE
               (trying to be cheery)
           This looks great. What is it?

                     ORDERLY
           It's roasted turkey and havarti on
           twelve grain.

                     CORALINE
           Sounds delicious.

Lorraine stands to assess the lunch for herself, and she
doesn't like what she sees.

                     LORRAINE
           Mrs. Ellison prefers white bread.
           And she doesn't like the crust. As
           much as this place costs, y'all
           should get the sandwiches right.

                      ORDERLY
           I'll make sure we take care of that
           from now on, okay?
               (then)
           Enjoy your lunch, Mrs. Ellison.

Lorraine and Agnes share a knowing look as the orderly
departs.


I/E. CAR - DAY

Monk and Coraline are in the front seat of Lisa's car.
Lorraine rides in the back. They're driving along in silence,
a little somber after leaving Agnes. And then...

                     LORRAINE
           I'm getting married.

           CORALINE                             MONK
Shut up!                          What?!
                                                           70.


                    LORRAINE
          I didn't say nothing earlier. It
          was just so sad. But Maynard asked
          me yesterday.

                     CORALINE
          Lorraine! That's amazing! Let's
          celebrate!

                    LORRAINE
          It's too much excitement. I don't
          like being the center of attention.

                    MONK
          Well, you deserve it, Lorraine. And
          Maynard is a lucky man.

                    LORRAINE
          Do you think you'd be willing to
          walk me down the aisle, Mr. Monk?

                     MONK
          I'd be honored.
               (then, smiling)
          Wow.


INT. ARTHUR'S OFFICE - AFTERNOON

Monk and Arthur are gathered at Arthur's phone, where they're
listening to Paula on speaker.

                    PAULA (ON SPEAKERPHONE)
          We are wildly excited to help you
          get "My Pafology" out. The
          marketing team has all kinds of
          great ideas to help sell it.

                    ARTHUR
          Great. We're excited to hear.


INT. THOMPSON-WATT - PAULA BADERMAN'S OFFICE - SAME TIME

Paula's office is the same, but now she's sitting with JOHN
BOSCO (white, 30s, gay).

                    PAULA
          John Bosco is the head of the
          department. I'll let him tell you
          more.

                       JOHN
          Hi, Stagg.
                                                        71.


INTERCUT PHONE CONVERSATION

                      MONK
          Hello.

                    JOHN
          Nice to finally meet you, my man.
          Listen, I love the book, and we are
          going to sell many, many copies.
          There's already so much buzz
          because of the movie deal, and we
          just want to keep that momentum
          going.

                    ARTHUR
          I spoke to Wiley yesterday. He says
          Michael B. Jordan is circling.

                    PAULA
          We heard. We think he would be
          absolutely perfect. You know, this
          book is awards bait with a capital
          B.

                    JOHN
          And we're thinking that if Michael
          does sign on, we want to put him on
          the cover, in one of those,
          um...scarves, I guess you would
          call them, tied around his head.

                      MONK
          A do-rag?

                    JOHN
          Do-rag! That's it. Do-rag and a
          tank top. With those muscles
          showing.

                    PAULA
          Whoo. Somebody call the fire
          department.

                      JOHN
          Yummy.

John and Paula laugh as Monk cringes. Arthur mimes shooting
himself, but then he recalls something and covers the phone.

                    ARTHUR
               (whispering)
          Shit, sorry, your dad. Sorry.
                                                          72.


                    JOHN
          So listen, for a release date,
          we're thinking of rushing it so
          that we can get it out in time for
          for Juneteenth.

                     PAULA
          Yeah.

                    MONK
          Juneteenth?

                    JOHN
          We're thinking of making a big
          holiday push. Black people will be
          celebrating, white people will be
          feeling -- let's be honest -- a
          little conscience-stricken. We
          think it's gonna be a huge moment
          for your book.

Monk closes his eyes and drops his head into his hands.

                    JOHN (CONT'D)
          So Stagg, are you so, so happy?

                    ARTHUR
          We think it's great, John. Really.
          Amazing.

Monk lifts his head, revealing a smirk on his face. Arthur
motions for Monk to say something.

                     MONK
          Yeah, it's, uh -- it's great.
              (then)
          And, you know, I've got an idea I
          want to share with you two.

            PAULA                              JOHN
Oh, well, I mean, we always    Yeah! Cool.
love to hear great ideas...

                    MONK
          I want to change the title.

                    JOHN
               (uncertain)
          OK. Um, well, just to be clear, we
          love "My Pafology."

                     PAULA
          Love it.
                                                        73.


                    JOHN
          It's got that Irvine Welsh,
          proletariat vernacular thang.

Arthur looks confusedly to Monk. He wasn't expecting him to
call an audible like this.

                    MONK
          That's why I think you'll like the
          new title even more.

                    PAULA
          Well, OK. You know what? We are
          always happy to hear new ideas.
          What did you have in mind?

                      MONK
          "Fuck."

There's a lengthy pause.

                    PAULA
          Uh, I'm sorry. Pardon me?

                    MONK
          "Fuck." I want to call it "Fuck."

Arthur laughs a fake, panicked laugh and rushes to mute the
phone as Paula and John chatter.

                    ARTHUR
              (angry whispering)
          What are you doing?

                    MONK
               (angry whispering)
          Screw these idiots.

                    ARTHUR
              (angry whispering)
          Stop it.

                      MONK
                (angry whispering)
          No.

Monk tries to take the phone from Arthur.

                    PAULA
          So Stagg, what about, uh, like
          "Damn" -- "Damn" -- or "Hell"?

Arthur shakes his head and unmutes the phone. And now we
return to intercutting with Paula and John in their office.
                                                 74.


                    MONK
          Nah. "Fuck."

                    JOHN
          OK. That's cool. But maybe we could
          maybe do that with a P-H instead?
          Because that would be more
          palatable to our sellers.

                    MONK
          I don't care about all that. And if
          you don't change the title, the
          deal is off.

                    JOHN
          Whoa, whoa, whoa.

                    PAULA
          Yeah, no, there's no need to be
          hasty. You know what? Why don't we--
          just give us a second, and, um, a
          moment, and we will get right back
          to you. OK?

Once muted, Monk and Arthur get into it.

                    ARTHUR
          What are you doing?

                    MONK
          What are you doing? This is
          ridiculous.

                    ARTHUR
          It's too much money we're talking
          about.

                    MONK
          I don't care. I'm shutting it down.

                    ARTHUR
          Shutting wha--

                    MONK
              (interrupting)
          Shutting it down.

Paula returns with a decision.

                    PAULA
          Are you there?

                    ARTHUR
          We're here.
                                                           75.


                    PAULA
          Let's do it!

           ARTHUR                              MONK
What?                          What?

                    PAULA
          Yeah, we discussed it, and we think
          it is very in your face in the best
          way possible.

                    JOHN
          It's very, uh --

                      MONK
          Black?

                    JOHN
          That's it! Yes, that's it. I'm
          happy you said it and not me.

Paula and John laugh as Arthur, still in shock, looks to
Monk, who just shakes his head in disgust.

                      PAULA
          Ah, fuck!

                    JOHN
          It's fucking great, Stagg.

                    PAULA
          You know, it's so brave, actually.


INT. MONK'S CHILDHOOD HOME - NIGHT

Monk and Coraline have just gotten home. They make their way
to the kitchen.

                    CORALINE
          I'm exhausted.

                    MONK
          Yeah, me too. But I've got to stay
          up a few hours reading these these
          books for --

Monk notices some commotion in the backyard. He looks out the
window and sees that someone is swimming in the pool.
                                                         76.


EXT. MONK'S CHILDHOOD HOME - BACKYARD - MOMENTS LATER

Monk and Coraline step through the back gate to find a person
furiously swimming laps.

                    MONK
          Hey! Hey! Hey!

                      CLIFF
          Ah, shit.

The swimmer stands up out of the water and we finally
see...it's Cliff. He's drunk and he's got a black eye.

                    MONK
          What are you doing here?

                    CLIFF
          What am I doing here? What are you
          doing here?

                    MONK
          What do you mean what am I doin--
          Why are you in town?

                    MONK (CONT'D)
          I came to see our mother. Isn't
          that what you've been calling me
          about for weeks now.

                    MONK (CONT'D)
          What happened to your eye?

                    CLIFF
          I got in a fight.

                    MONK
          Well, get out of the pool.

Monk looks around at the mess Cliff has made.

                    MONK (CONT'D)
          You're making a mess of it.

                     CLIFF
          I don't want to get out of the
          pool. I'm a grown ass man.
              (then)
          Is this your girlfriend?

                    MONK
          Yeah. You scared the shit out of
          her.
                                                        77.


                    CORALINE
          I'm Coraline.

Monk picks up the skimmer net and begins to clean out the
detritus Cliff has tracked in.

                    CLIFF
          Hi, Coraline.
               (to Monk)
          At least she's not white again.

                    MONK
          Your wife was white.

                    CLIFF
          My wife was a beard. Beards don't
          count.

                    MONK
          Well, get out. Fuckin' menace.
          You'll wake the neighbors.

                    CLIFF
          Fuck your neighbors. And fuck your
          clean pool. It's all just a part of
          your superiority complex anyway.

Cliff dips underwater, grabs the net and yanks it hard,
throwing Monk off balance and sending him splashing into the
pool. Monk comes up drenched.

                    MONK
          You are a goddamn child!

Cliff is giggling, followed by Coraline.

                    CLIFF
          It's probably a bad time to tell
          you but I did piss down there.

Coraline and Cliff laugh harder now.

                    MONK
          Oh, this is funny, huh?

                    CORALINE
          I'm sorry, Monk.

                    CLIFF
          Don't get mad.

Monk tries to wrestle Cliff to try to get back at him, but
Cliff can't stop laughing.
                                                        78.


EXT. MONK'S CHILDHOOD HOME - BOCCE COURT - LATER

Coraline and Cliff toss bocce balls and drink wine as Monk
watches at the edge. Monk's in a bathrobe, Cliff in
basketball shorts and nothing else. Coraline's in her clothes
from before.

                    CLIFF
          So I'm lying in bed with him, buck
          ass naked, and in walks Claude
          carrying the frozen yogurt.

                    CORALINE
          No!

                    CLIFF
          Yeah, I forgot that I'd shown him
          where I keep the spare key. So he
          just throws the yogurt at us and
          then he wallops me, right in the
          eye.

                    CORALINE
          What's the other guy do?

                    CLIFF
          He couldn't stop laughing. He said
          that's what he does when he gets
          nervous.

                    MONK
          You're really going for it these
          days.

                    CLIFF
          I've only been gay for like five
          minutes. I gotta make up for lost
          time.

                    CORALINE
          Good for you. The whole world's
          falling apart, you might as well
          have some fun.

                     CLIFF
          I appreciate that.
              (then)
          You know, you're quite beautiful.

                     CORALINE
              (bashful)
          Thank you.
                                                      79.


                     CLIFF
          Can I --
              (then)
          What do you see in my brother?

                    CORALINE
          He's funny.

                    CLIFF
          Hmm. He's not funny.

                    CORALINE
          No, not "ha ha" funny. Like sad-
          funny.

                     CLIFF
          OK.

                    CORALINE
          Like a three-legged dog.

                    CLIFF
          I see it now. Like somebody dying
          on the toilet.

                     CORALINE
          Exactly.

                     MONK
               (stumbling)
          Invariably, you, you -- you go too
          far.

                    CLIFF
          You think? I don't think I go far
          enough.

                    MONK
          It's becoming hurtful.

          CORALINE                            CLIFF
Awww.                            Awww.

                    CLIFF (CONT'D)
              (mocking Monk)
          "Invariably, you, you, you go too
          far..."

Coraline gives Monk a kiss. Cliff laughs.

                    CLIFF (CONT'D)
          You got a kiss, man! Look at you!
          Just by being pathetic.
                                                         80.


Coraline laughs now, followed by Monk.

                    CLIFF (CONT'D)
          Pathetic like a three-legged dog.

They all laugh again.


EXT. SUNRISE ELDER CARE HOME - COURTYARD - DAY

Monk, Coraline, and Cliff are walking through the courtyard
carrying some banker's boxes. They're filled with things for
Agnes, including a stereo and some vinyl records. Cliff looks
admiringly at the grounds.

                    CLIFF
          This is nice.

                    MONK
          Yeah, it's not bad.

                    CLIFF
          What do they got there? A pergola?

                    MONK
          That's a gazebo.

                    CLIFF
          Same difference.


INT. SUNRISE ELDER CARE HOME - HALLWAY - MOMENTS LATER

Cliff, Monk, and Coraline continue their trek with the boxes.

                    CLIFF
          Hey, Monk? How the hell can you
          afford this place?

Monk is annoyed by Cliff's question. Coraline tries to
pretend like she's not interested in the answer, but she is.

                    MONK
          I, uh, there was some money Lisa
          left for Mother.

                    CLIFF
          I thought her divorce cleaned her
          out.

                    MONK
          I'm not familiar with what her
          finances were like.
                    (MORE)
                                                         81.
                    MONK (CONT'D)
          But if you're so interested in the
          bills, perhaps I can start sending
          them to you.

Cliff rolls his eyes at this.

                    CLIFF
          Uh, that's fine. Where are we
          going?

                    MONK
          Right here. 44.


INT. SUNRISE ELDER CARE HOME - AGNES' ROOM - AFTERNOON

Cliff, Coraline, and Monk enter Agnes' room carrying the
banker's boxes. Agnes is sitting in a chair, staring blankly
across the room. An ORDERLY is giving her water.

                      MONK
          Surprise.

Agnes is unresponsive.

                    ORDERLY
          We've had a difficult morning.


INT. SUNRISE ELDER CARE HOME - HALLWAY - MOMENTS LATER

Cliff assembles a CD player and speakers for Agnes as Monk
talks with a DOCTOR in hushed tones at Agnes' door.

                    DOCTOR
          We had to sedate her after she
          tried to strike a nurse.

                    MONK
          Has she done that before?

As the doctor speaks, some jazz music starts to drift from
Agnes' room.

                     DOCTOR
          No. She has a different demeanor
          every day. Sometimes every hour.
          Maybe she'll feel better tomorrow.
              (then)
          I'm sorry. I need to go.

                    MONK
          Yes, of course. Thank you.
                                                        82.


The doctor leaves just as Coraline returns with a small bunch
of flowers.

                    CORALINE
          The gardener cut these right off
          the bush for your mom. Sweet,
          right?

                    MONK
          Yeah, that's great.

Coraline is mum for a couple beats, but then she can't help
herself.

                    CORALINE
          How can you afford it here?
              (then, joking)
          You're not a drug dealer or
          something, are you?

Monk does not receive the kidding well.

                    MONK
          No, I'm a writer. And you're my
          girlfriend, not my bookkeeper.

                      CORALINE
                (to herself)
          OK.

Monk and Coraline turn to see Cliff dancing with Agnes.
Though Agnes is still not incredibly lucid, she's able to
dance well, albeit slowly. Coraline and Monk watch in
silence. Agnes rests her head on Cliff's chest and Cliff
smiles -- it's the sweetest moment he's had with his mother
in years. After a few more beats, Agnes speaks.

                    AGNES
          I always knew you weren't a queer.

Cliff's face registers injury. He stops dancing and pulls
away.

                    MONK
          She doesn't know what she's saying.

                    CLIFF
          I'm going to wait outside.

Cliff exits. Agnes is completely oblivious. She returns to
the chair and stares out the window.
                                                        83.


EXT. MONK'S CHILDHOOD HOME - PORCH - AFTERNOON

Monk, Coraline, and Cliff are sitting on the front porch in
total silence. Cliff, who's clutching a suitcase, is
standoffish now, different from the unguarded man we saw
briefly in the previous scenes. An Uber pulls up and the trio
stands solemnly.

                    MONK
          Are you sure you don't want to stay
          for Lorraine's wedding?

                    CLIFF
          It's better if I go.

Cliff starts walking to the Uber.

                    CORALINE
          It was nice to meet you, Cliff.

Cliff turns back to look at Coraline and Monk. He thinks for
a beat before responding.

                    CLIFF
          This family'll break your heart.

With that, Cliff turns and walks away.


CLOSE ON VIDEO SCREEN

We're watching The Kenya Dunston Show, a daytime talk
program. KENYA DUNSTON (black, 40s) is in the style of Wendy
Williams -- high skirt, low neckline, studiedly unrefined.

Kenya sits next to a small coffee table. There's a book in
her lap. A monitor above her right shoulder bears the show's
logo.

                    KENYA
          Welcome back. I'm Kenya Dunston and
          today we're going to discuss a new
          novel that just debuted at number
          one on the New York Times
          bestseller list. It is just a
          remarkable, special book. And it's
          called -- cover your kids' eyes and
          ears -- (bleep).

Kenya holds up "Fuck" by Stagg R. Leigh -- "Fuck" is blurred
out but not the name of its author. Kenya props the book open
on the table.
                                                        84.


                    KENYA (CONT'D)
          We're lucky enough to have the
          author with us today. And for those
          of you who are just joining us,
          please know that Mr. Stagg R. Leigh
          is coming to us from an undisclosed
          location, as he is still on the run
          from authorities.

The audience erupts in applause.

"Stagg's" silhouette appears on the monitor next to Kenya
before taking over the whole screen -- at the bottom of the
silhouette a chyron appears: "STAGG R. LEIGH,
AUTHOR/FUGITIVE."

                    KENYA (CONT'D)
          Ah, Stagg. Tell us: is this novel a
          true story?

                    MONK
               (voice modulated)
          Not factually, but it is the true
          story of what it's like to be black
          in America, like me. And it ain't
          pretty.

                    KENYA
          Amen to that.

                    MONK
               (voice modulated)
          During my time in prison, I learned
          that words belong to everybody.
          So this book is my contribution to
          this wonderful country of ours.
          Where a black convict can become
          rich simply by telling the story of
          his unfortunate people.

                    KENYA
          Mmm. Yes! Yes...

The audience applauds again, but they're soon overshadowed,
literally, by a phone call notification from Arthur. We PULL
BACK to reveal...


I/E. UBER - DAY

Monk is riding in the back of the car and watching the clip
on his phone, his face contorted into a sour grimace. He
answers the call.
                                                         85.


                    MONK
          Yeah.


INT. ARTHUR'S OFFICE - SAME TIME

                    ARTHUR
          Get this: The FBI called Thompson-
          Watt today to try to get Stagg R.
          Leigh's identity.

INTERCUT PHONE CONVERSATION

                    MONK
          What?

                    ARTHUR
          Don't worry. They're not gonna give
          him up.

                    MONK
          Give who up? It's me. And I haven't
          done anything.

                    ARTHUR
          They don't know that.

                    MONK
          Look, this has gone too far.

                    ARTHUR
          Relax. The fugitive stuff's getting
          us mountains of free press. Plus,
          as you said, you haven't done
          anything. It's not like they can
          arrest you.

                    MONK
          I wish I could go back to not
          selling books.

                    ARTHUR
          I don't. Bye.


INT. CORALINE'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

Monk and Coraline are having pasta for dinner. Monk is
clearly aggravated, eating in silence.

                    CORALINE
          Is everything alright?
                                                        86.


                    MONK
          Yeah. I'm just a little stressed
          out. This Book Award stuff is a bit
          more work than I expected.

Monk drops his fork onto the floor.

                    MONK (CONT'D)
          Shit.

                    CORALINE
          It's no biggie. Got more forks in
          the kitchen.

Monk goes into the kitchen to get a new fork. As he's doing
this, he clocks a copy of "Fuck" on the counter, poking out
from underneath Coraline's bag. He grabs it.

                    MONK
          What's this?

                    CORALINE
          Oh, my friend got it for me. Have
          you read it?

                    MONK
          Of course not. Have you?

Coraline is taken aback by Monk's tone.

                    CORALINE
          Yeah.

                    MONK
          What'd you think of it?

                    CORALINE
          I liked it.

                    MONK
          What did you like about it?

                    CORALINE
          Um, I--

                    MONK
              (interrupting)
          It didn't offend you?

                    CORALINE
          You just said you didn't read it.
          What's your problem?
                                                87.


                    MONK
          Why don't you answer my question?

                    CORALINE
          You answer mine.

                    MONK
          My problem is that books like this
          aren't real. They flatten our
          lives.

                    CORALINE
          What do you mean?

                    MONK
          I mean that my life is a disaster,
          but not in the way you'd think
          reading this shit. Books like this
          reduce us, and they do it over and
          over again, because too many white
          people -- and people, apparently,
          like you-- devour this slop like
          pigs at a dumpster to stay current
          at fucking cocktail parties or
          whatever.

                    CORALINE
          You've got a lot of opinions for
          someone who hasn't published
          anything for years.

                    MONK
          And you've published what exactly?

                    CORALINE
          Okay, what is wrong with you? Why
          are you acting like this?

                    MONK
          I'm not acting like anything.

                    CORALINE
          You've been acting like a weirdo
          for weeks. You're obfuscating and
          sneaking around. You're fucking
          unknowable. And maybe you think
          being an enigma is chic and artsy,
          but I think it just makes you an
          asshole.

Monk pours himself another glass of red wine.
                                                        88.


                      MONK
            Well, um, you don't understand my
            life, and you can't, so just leave
            it at that.

                      CORALINE
            One day maybe you'll learn that not
            being able to relate to other
            people isn't a badge of honor.
                 (then)
            I think you should leave.

                      MONK
            Well you know what I think?

                      CORALINE
            You should leave, Monk.

The tone in her voice is clear and direct. Monk gulps down
the rest of his wine and puts the glass down on the table. He
gathers his things to leave, pointing at the copy of "Fuck"
that's place on the same table.

                      MONK
                (re: book)
            Nonsense...

He exits.


INT. MONK'S CHILDHOOD HOME - FOYER - DAY

Monk helps Lorraine, Maynard, and Maynard's sons, BURT and
JEFF (both black and in their 40s), move the last of
Lorraine's things into a moving truck out front. Lorraine
enters from the kitchen carrying a SodaStream.

                      MONK
            You guys need any help with that?

                      BURT
            Nah, we're good.

                      MONK
            Thought you could use a little
            brawn.

                         JEFF
            We got it.

                      LORRAINE
            Mr. Monk, you mind if I keep the
            soda maker? You don't like bubbly
            water anyhow, right?
                                                          89.


                    MONK
          It's all yours.

                       LORRAINE
          Thank you.

Monk notices Lorraine's signature yellow apron hanging on a
chair.

                    MONK
          Hey, what about this?

                    LORRAINE
          No. I always hated that color. It's
          just the one your father bought.

Maynard enters from outside carrying a small FedEx package.

                    MAYNARD
          Thelonious, this just came for you,
          Monk.

                    MONK
          OK, thanks.

Monk grabs the package as Lorraine hands over the SodStream
to Maynard.

                    LORRAINE
               (to Maynard)
          This is the last of it.

Lorraine now turns to Monk.

                    LORRAINE (CONT'D)
          Goodbye, Mr. Monk.

                    MONK
          Goodbye, Lorraine.

They hug. When they pull away, Monk extends his hand to
Maynard, who shakes it.

                    MONK (CONT'D)
          Drive safe. Guess I'll see you at
          the wedding.

                       MAYNARD
          Alright.

After Maynard and Lorraine exit, Monk opens the package and
out slides a copy of "Fuck" with a note on Thompson-Watt
letterhead: "We're delighted to submit this book for
consideration in the Book Awards." Monk looks horrified.
                                                           90.


INT. MONK'S CHILDHOOD HOME - STUDY - LATER

Monk is on another Zoom call with the Book Award judges.


INT. WILSON'S OFFICE - DAY

                    WILSON
          Thompson-Watt apparently raced to
          publish it.


INT. AILENE'S OFFICE - DAY

                    AILENE
          Yeah, I heard that they ran 300,000
          copies already. And they're
          reprinting more soon. I mean, it's
          going like gangbusters.


INT. DANIEL'S DEN - DAY

                    DANIEL
          Christ on a crutch. It better be
          good.

                    WILSON
          I heard the writer's a fugitive.

                    DANIEL
          That would explain the title. He
          didn't go to charm school.

                    AILENE
          I think that background is a plus.
          I am thrilled to read a BIPOC man
          hurt by our carceral state.

                    DANIEL
          Wait -- are you one of those
          "defund the cops" nuts?

                    AILENE
          Yes. And I wouldn't expect you to
          understand.

                    DANIEL
          Well, I hope someone you love
          doesn't ever get raped or murdered.
                                                        91.


INT. SINTARA'S OFFICE - DAY

                    SINTARA
          Can we not have this conversation
          now, please?

Daniel and Ailene calm down.

                    MONK
          Look, criminal or not, I don't
          think we should add it. We're
          already weeks into the process, and
          I don't know about any of you, but
          I've got more than a dozen books
          that haven't even opened yet.

                    AILENE
          It was published within the
          submission window. I think we have
          to accept it.

                    WILSON
          It's just one more. And from the
          looks of it, it should be a quick
          read.

                    DANIEL
          A quick "Fuck," huh? I've had some
          of those.

Wilson and Daniel laugh at the dumb joke as Monk looks ill.

                    AILENE
          Bye, guys. Bye.


INT. SUNRISE ELDER CARE HOME - AGNES' BEDROOM - DAY

Monk, who's wearing a suit and tie, enters to find Agnes
applying the finishing touches to her makeup. Monk beams a
genuine smile when he sees her.

                    AGNES
          Hi, Monkey.

                    MONK
          You look beautiful.

She really does.
                                                        92.


EXT. BEACH HOUSE - DAY

Monk and Agnes arrive at the beach house and unpack their
car.


INT. BEACH HOUSE - KITCHEN - DAY

Monk and Agnes enter to find two strange men: KENNY (20s,
white, very in shape, only in a speedo) and ALVIN (40s,
black, also very in shape). Kenny is chopping up some fruit
as Alvin stirs eggs for omelettes in large bowl. There are
poppers and White Claw cans littering the kitchen table.

                       KENNY
          Oh, hello!

                    AGNES
              (to Monk, unsure )
          Monkey, do we know these men?

                     MONK
          No, mother. This isn't the
          Alzheimer's. These are actual
          strangers.
              (then, to Kenny and Alvin)
          Who are you people?

                    KENNY
          We're Cliff's friends.

                    MONK
          Of course you are.

                    KENNY
          We met him a few days ago. I'm
          Kenny. This is Alvin.

                    ALVIN
          Are you Monk?

                    MONK
          I am. How did you know?

                     ALVIN
          Well Cliff said Monk is a real
          tight-ass.

                     MONK
          Oh, did he? Delightful.
              (then, re: chair)
          Mother, you sit here.
              (then)
          Lorraine?
                                                        93.


The camera moves now to catch Cliff come into view in the
living room, where he locks eyes with Monk in the kitchen.

                    CLIFF
          What the hell are you doing here?

                       MONK
          You first.

Monk makes his way toward Cliff while Agnes stays with Kenny
and Alvin.


INT. BEACH HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS

Monk and Cliff are now face to face.

                    CLIFF
          Shit. The wedding.

                       MONK
          Yeah.

                    CLIFF
          Oh, fuck. I didn't go to the
          airport that day. I needed some
          time to myself.

Cliff rushes to gather the cans and drug detritus.

                    MONK
          Time to oneself implies -- by
          definition -- time alone.

                    CLIFF
          Christ, here we go. Detective
          Dictionary.

Maynard and Lorraine now enter the dining room just behind
Monk.

                    LORRAINE
          Oh, Mr. Cliff...

                    MONK
              (to Maynard and Lorraine)
          I'm sorry, guys. I'll handle it.
               (to Cliff)
          You need to leave. Don't bother to
          clean up. Just go.

                    MAYNARD
          No, it's alright.
              (to Cliff)
                    (MORE)
                                                          94.
                    MAYNARD (CONT'D)
          Please, stay. It's a celebration.
          It's good to see you, Cliff.

                    CLIFF
          It's good to see you, too, Maynard.
          But I don't want to impose.

                    LORRAINE
          You can't impose. You're family.

Lorraine hugs Cliff. It's clear this kindness means a lot to
Cliff.

                    CLIFF
          OK. Let me clean up a bit.
          Congratulations.

Kenny pokes his head out from the kitchen.

                    KENNY
          Can we make y'all some breakfast? I
          can whip up a killer smoothie and
          Alvin used to work the omelette
          station on a cruise ship.

                    LORRAINE
          That sounds lovely. Thank you.

Lorraine begins to help Kenny and Alvin with breakfast,
leaving Monk and Maynard alone to chat.

                     MONK
                (to Maynard)
          It's very kind of you to let them
          stay.

                    MAYNARD
          It's easier to deal with other
          people's families than your own.

                    MONK
          I regret to inform you that in a
          couple hours, this will be your
          family.

They share a laugh.


EXT. BEACH HOUSE - AFTERNOON

Monk, Agnes, Cliff, Burt, Jeff, Kenny, and Alvin are gathered
behind the house with a small coterie of OTHERS as Lorraine
and Maynard are married by a PASTOR beneath a small arbor
decorated with flowers.
                                                           95.


Most everyone is in formal clothes, but Cliff and his friends
have to make do, with Kenny still in his Speedo and a
Hawaiian shirt. Cliff is weeping. He catches the bouquet.


EXT. BEACH HOUSE - BACK PORCH - DUSK

Everyone is dancing. The motley crew has grown to enjoy each
other's company. Monk takes in the joyful scene, but it's
clear his head is elsewhere.


EXT. BEACH HOUSE - FRONT PORCH - NIGHT

Monk steps away from the party and gazes across the road
toward Coraline's dark, empty home.

                    CLIFF (O.S.)
          Did you piss her off?

Monk turns to see Cliff.

                    MONK
          Yeah.

                    CLIFF
          Did you shut her out?

                    MONK
          Yeah.

                    CLIFF
          Dad shut everyone out, too. And
          lied all the time. Look how that
          turned out.

                    MONK
          I find myself getting very angry
          these days, like dad.

                    CLIFF
          These days?

Monk smirks, recognizing the truth there.

                    CLIFF (CONT'D)
          I've been thinking lately about how
          dad died not knowing I'm gay.

                    MONK
          I think he suspected it.
                                                          96.


                    CLIFF
          He may have. But he didn't know for
          sure. He never knew the entirety of
          me. And now he never will. That
          makes me real sad.

                    MONK
          Well, what if he had known and
          rejected you?

                    CLIFF
          At least he'd be rejecting the real
          me. I know that sounds crazy, but
          there'd be some relief in that.

                    MONK
          It doesn't sound so crazy.

                    CLIFF
          People want to love you, Monk. I
          personally don't know what they see
          in you, but they want to love you.

Monk laughs a little at this.

                    CLIFF (CONT'D)
          You should let them love all of
          you.

Cliff kisses Monk on the forehead and heads back to the
party.


INT. HOTEL CONFERENCE ROOM - DAY

Monk and the NBA judges discuss their choices for the Book
Award finalists. A list of titles are up on a white board,
ranked from 10 to 4. The top three spots are empty.

                    DANIEL
          It was dog shit. I mean, some
          mollycoddled chump faffing on and
          on about his dead mom. Who cares?

                    WILSON
          OK, so that means that "Bury Me
          Standing" is fourth. Let's talk
          about "Fuck."

                    MONK
          Could we not?
                                                97.


                    AILENE
          Personally, I adored it. It was
          like gazing into an open wound.

                    WILSON
          I agree. I think it's the strongest
          African American novel I've read in
          a long time -- since yours, of
          course, Sintara.

                    DANIEL
          I actually liked it much more than
          I was expecting. I mean, this is a
          gutsy piece of work. And necessary
          for the times.

                    AILENE
          What did you think, Sintara?

                    SINTARA
          I found it to be pretty pandering,
          actually.

Monk turns to her, slightly surprised.

                     MONK
          You did?

                    SINTARA
          Yes. Did you not?

                    MONK
          I very much did. I thought it was
          simplistic and meaningless.

                    DANIEL
          Of course it's simplistic -- it's
          the language of the gutter. Not
          some prissy graduate thesis.

                    MONK
          Language of the gutter? Jesus
          Christ.

There's a lull as people run out of steam.

                    WILSON
          I think our blood sugar's low. How
          about we take a break for lunch?

                    SINTARA
          Fine by me.
                                                        98.


INT. HOTEL CONFERENCE ROOM - LATER

Monk enters carrying a salad in a plastic clamshell
container. He's surprised to find Sintara eating sushi by
herself and reading.

                       MONK
          I'm sorry.

                    SINTARA
          Oh, no, you're fine.

                    MONK
          I'm not interrupting?

                       SINTARA
          No.

She goes back to her book as Monk sits and begins to eat. He
looks to Sintara and hesitates before speaking.

                    MONK
          Do you mind if I ask you something?

                       SINTARA
          Sure.

                     MONK
          Um...what about "Fuck" did you find
          pandering?

                    SINTARA
          Oh. I can't really put my finger on
          it, but...it's not different from
          some of what's out there, but it
          just felt..."soulless" is the word
          that I'm gonna use? You said you
          agreed, right?

                    MONK
          I do. I think it seems written to
          satisfy the tastes of guilt-ridden
          white people.

                    SINTARA
          Yeah, the kind of book critics will
          call "important" and "necessary"
          but not "well-written."

Monk laughs.

                       MONK
          Exactly.
              (then)
                       (MORE)
                                      99.
          MONK (CONT'D)
Okay, so -- and please don't take
offense at this -- but how is
"Fuck" so very different from your
book?

          SINTARA
Is that what this is about? You
think my book's trash.

          MONK
No. To be honest, I haven't read
your book. I've read excerpts, and
it didn't seem so dissimilar.

          SINTARA
I did a lot of research for my
book. Some of it was actually taken
from real interviews. Maybe you've
been up in your ivory tower of
academia for so long you've
forgotten that some people's lives
are hard.

          MONK
Your life? You went to an
exclusive, bohemian college. You
had a job at a fancy publishing
house in New York.

          SINTARA
So what? I don't need to write
about my life. I write about what
interests people.

          MONK
You write what interests white
publishers fiending black trauma
porn.

          SINTARA
They're the ones buying the
manuscripts. Is it bad to cater to
their tastes?

          MONK
If you're OK feeding people's base
desires for profit...

          SINTARA
I'm OK with giving the market what
it wants.
                                                       100.


                    MONK
          That's how drug dealers excuse
          themselves.

                    SINTARA
          And I think drugs should be legal.

                    MONK
          But you-- you're not fed up with
          it? Black people in poverty, black
          people rapping, black people as
          slaves, black people murdered by
          the police, whole soaring
          narratives about black folks in
          dire circumstances who still manage
          to maintain their dignity before
          they die-- I mean, I'm not saying
          these things aren't real, but we're
          also more than this. And it's like
          so many writers like you can't
          envision us without some white boot
          on our necks.

                    SINTARA
          Do you get angry at Bret Easton
          Ellis or Charles Bukowski for
          writing about the downtrodden? Or
          is your ire strictly reserved for
          black women?

                    MONK
          Nobody reads Bukowski thinking his
          is the definitive white experience.
          But people -- white people -- read
          your book and confine us to it.
          They think that we're all like
          that.

                    SINTARA
          Then it sounds like your issue is
          with white people, Monk, not me.

                    MONK
          That may be, but I also think that
          I see the unrealized potential of
          black people in this country.

                    SINTARA
          Potential is what people see when
          they think what's in front of them
          isn't good enough.

As Monk considers this, the door swings open. Ailene enters
and takes a seat.
                                                       101.


                    AILENE
          So, what are we talking about?

Sintara returns to her book and Monk returns to his salad.


EXT. HOTEL STAIRWELL - DAY

Monk is sitting on the top step. After a few beats of
contemplation, he pulls out his phone and goes to his text
thread with Coraline. He composes a message: "I'm sorry. I'd
like to tell you some things. Would you be my date to the
book awards in a couple weeks?" He sends it. A few seconds
later, he sees the text bubbles signifying that Coraline is
typing something. But after several moments, they disappear.
Monk looks dejected. A moment later, Ailene sticks her head
out the door.

                    AILENE
          We're starting again.

                    MONK
          I'll be right there.

Monk scans through his phone and presses a button. We do not
intercut the call.

                     MONK (CONT'D)
          Yeah, can I speak to Arthur? Yeah,
          it's Monk.
              (then)
          Hey, I'm fine. Listen, you think
          you can set up another meeting with
          Wiley? I've got a new idea for him.
          For a different kind of movie.

As he descends the steps, he pauses for a moment to look at
the photograph hanging on the wall -- Gordon Parks,
'Untitled, Harlem, New York,' 1947.


INT. HOTEL CONFERENCE ROOM - DAY

The judges have moved around from their initial positions.
Monk is now next to Sintara and the other three are grouped
together at the other side of the table. On the board, the
rankings are all filled out, save for number one.

                    AILENE
          I think it's "Fuck" for me.

                    DANIEL
          Me too.
                                                       102.


                     WILSON
          I agree.

                    SINTARA
          I disagree. I'm sorry.

                    MONK
          I think it would be a mistake to
          award this book anything at all.

                    DANIEL
          Well, it's two versus three, so
          "Fuck" is the winner.

Ailene writes "Fuck" next to the number one on the board.

                     AILENE
              (as she writes)
          "Fuck" is the winner.
              (then)
          You know, it's not just that it's
          so affecting. I just think it's
          essential to listen to black voices
          right now.

In a wide shot, we see the division of the room: the three
white judges on one side, the overruled black judges on the
other.


EXT. SUNRISE ELDER CARE HOME - AGNES' ROOM - DAY

Monk sits at Agnes' bedside as Agnes stares off into the
distance. They're both silent for a few beats.

                     MONK
          Mother.

Agnes turns to look at Monk.

                    MONK (CONT'D)
          Did you know dad was cheating on
          you?

                    AGNES
          He was bad at keeping secrets.

                    MONK
          Why didn't you leave him?

                    AGNES
          He would have been even more lonely
          without me.
                                                       103.


                    MONK
          You thought he was lonely?

                     AGNES
          Your father was a genius. Geniuses
          are lonely, because they can't
          connect with the rest of us.
              (then)
          You're a genius, son.

                    MONK
          I certainly don't feel like one
          half the time.

                    AGNES
          That's because you've always been
          so hard on yourself, Cliffy.


INT. BANQUET HALL - NIGHT

Monk, his fellow judges, and DOZENS OF GUESTS in black tie
are gathered at the awards gala. It's not incredibly
glamorous -- this is a book award, after all. Monk, dateless,
sits at a circular table of OLD WHITE PEOPLE picking at
salads. Onstage, Carl Brunt, carrying a trophy, steps to a
lectern and clears his throat into the microphone. The
audience quiets down.

                    CARL
          And now, the final award of the
          evening. I promise to leave you
          alone and let you eat after this.

Some people laugh.

                    CARL (CONT'D)
          But, before I announce the winner,
          I would like to acknowledge our
          group of judges -- our incredibly
          diverse group of judges -- who've
          sacrificed valuable time so we can
          all celebrate here tonight. So if
          you could your hands together --
          they did a fantastic job.

The audience claps.

                    CARL (CONT'D)
          OK, without further ado: this
          year's Literary Award goes to --
          oh, I knew it: By Stagg R. Leigh,
          "Fuck"!
                                                         104.


Wild applause. People stand to get a glimpse of the
mysterious author.

                     CARL (CONT'D)
          I'm not sure if Mr. Leigh is going
          to grace us with his presence
          tonight. He's famously cagy about
          attention.


INT. BANQUET HALL - MONK'S TABLE - SAME TIME

Monk thinks for a beat, then stands, and buttons his tuxedo
jacket.


INT. BANQUET HALL - STAGE - SAME TIME

Carl squints and looks out over the ballroom.

                    CARL
          Hold on, OK, I see some-- someone's
          coming.


INT. BANQUET HALL - AUDIENCE - SAME TIME

Monk calmly maneuvers through the tables to the stage.


INT. BANQUET HALL - STAGE - SAME TIME

Carl turns to look at Monk, who's now making his way up the
stage stairs.

                    CARL
              (in mic, to audience)
          Oh, uh, Thelonious Ellison one of
          our judges...weirdly walking toward
          the stage...no idea why.
              (covering mic, to Monk)
          Hey, what's going on?

                       MONK
          Excuse me.

Monk takes the award, shunts Carl to the side, and approaches
the mic. As he does, he spots Coraline staring at him from
the back of the room. He locks eyes with her.

The camera moves behind Monk, so we can only see his
silhouette beneath the bright lights. Carl and the audience
stare at Monk, confused.
                                                         105.


                       MONK (CONT'D)
             I have a confession to make.

Before Monk can speak again, we

                                             SMASH TO BLACK.


OVER BLACK

                       WILEY (PRE-LAP)
             Wait, wait, wait. Smash to black?
             No fucking way, dude.


INT. "PLANTATION ANNIHILATION SET" - DAY

The filmmaking detritus and garish branding on the backs of
some directors' chairs let us know we're on the set of Wiley
Valdespino's latest film. Wiley is reading Monk's script as
Monk sits beside him.

                       MONK
             What's wrong with that?

                       WILEY
                 (re: script)
             There's no resolution here. What's
             he gonna say?

                       MONK
             I don't know. I think that's what's
             interesting about it.

                       WILEY (O.S.)
             He should say something. What did
             you say?

                       MONK
             Nothing. I walked out of the
             ceremony and the next day I called
             you to say I wanted to write this
             movie.

                        WILEY (O.S.)
             Well, Monk the character should say
             something.

                       MONK
             I don't want him to do some
             grandiose speech spoon-feeding
             everyone the moral of the story.
             There is no moral. That's the idea.
             I like the ambiguity.
                                                       106.


                    WILEY
          OK, look. You're a good writer, and
          this is almost there. But novels
          aren't movies, OK? Nuance doesn't
          put asses into theater seats. We
          need a big finish.

An ASSISTANT approaches Wiley with a can of seltzer.

                    WILEY (CONT'D)
              (re: can)
          What is this?

                    ASSISTANT
          It's the seltzer you asked for.

                    WILEY
          Why's it all wet?

                    ASSISTANT
          Condensation?

                    WILEY
          Condensation? You a fucking
          weatherman now?
              (then, to Monk)
          You want anything?

                    MONK
          No, I'm fine. Thank you.

                    WILEY
              (to assistant)
          This is Monk. We're gonna make a
          movie with him if he can get the
          ending right.

                    ASSISTANT
              (to Monk)
          Nice meeting you.

                    MONK
          You as well.

                    WILEY
              (to assistant)
          Get me a flat white.
              (handing back the can)
          And hey: Never again.

The assistant takes the wet can and departs.
                                                         107.


                    WILEY (CONT'D)
          Alright, what other endings you got
          in that big brain of yours?

Monk takes a deep breath and exhales, thinking on the fly.

                    MONK
          How about if --

                                               SMASH CUT TO:


INT. BANQUET HALL - STAGE - NIGHT

Carl repeats his line.

                    CARL
          This year's Literary Award goes to -
          - Stagg R. Leigh, "Fuck"!

Wild applause. People stand to get a glimpse of the
mysterious author.


INT. BANQUET HALL - MONK'S TABLE - SAME TIME

The people at Monk's table stand to applaud. Monk smirks,
stands, and buttons his tuxedo jacket. As the audience looks
around for a glimpse at Stagg, Monk makes his way to the
exit. He doesn't look back at the ecstatic crowd as the door
swings shut behind him.


EXT. CITY STREET - NIGHT

Monk walks down the sidewalk, passing drunken revelers and
buskers and beggars. He's clearly headed somewhere specific.
He stops at a crosswalk and hails a cab. Without noticing, he
runs past a giant "Fuck" ad on the side of a building.
Someone has tagged a giant "YOU" next to the book's title.


EXT. CORALINE'S HOUSE - NIGHT

And now we see where Monk's been headed. There's a yellow
glow in the window. Monk walks toward the house as the cab
drives away. Monk can see Coraline reading a magazine by
lamplight. She looks up and meets his gaze. A few moments
later, Coraline opens the door. She says nothing, just
stares. After a couple beats, Monk speaks...

                    MONK
          I'd like to apologize. I haven't
          been myself lately.
                                                            108.


We get a glimpse of the lovers looking at each other. Before
Coraline can respond, we

                                                SMASH TO BLACK.


OVER BLACK

                       MONK (PRE-LAP)
             What about that?


INT. "PLANTATION ANNIHILATION" SET - DAY

We're back with Monk and Wiley, who is mulling over what
we've just seen.

                       WILEY
             Will she forgive him?

                       MONK
             Dunno. The real Coraline won't
             return my calls. Maybe the movie
             Coraline is more forgiving.

Wiley shakes his head.

                       WILEY
             No, it's too pat. Makes the whole
             thing feel like a rom-com. We don't
             wanna make a rom-com. We wanna make
             something real. Give me something
             real.

Monk is quiet for a few beats, already regretting what he's
about to say.

                       MONK
             I mean, we could just --

                                                 SMASH CUT TO:


INT. BANQUET HALL - STAGE - NIGHT

Monk is back onstage with Carl, who repeats his line.

                       CARL
                 (covering mic, to Monk)
             Hey, what's going on?

                          MONK
             Excuse me.
                                                        109.


Monk takes the award and shunts Carl to the side.

                     MONK (CONT'D)
          Beat it.

As he approaches the mic, he spots Coraline staring at him
from the back of the room. He locks eyes with her and then
begins

                    MONK (CONT'D)
          I have a confession to make.

Just as Monk is about to continue, the doors to the banquet
hall burst open and five COPS flood in. A DETECTIVE (white,
40s) in a kevlar vest rushes the stage, his gun drawn.

                    DETECTIVE
          Stagg Leigh! On the ground! Now!

                    MONK
          What?! No! I'm not Stagg R. Leigh!
          He doesn't exist. I'm Monk!
          Thelonious Ellison!

                    DETECTIVE
          You're a fugitive! On the ground
          now!

                    MONK
          No, that was all a marketing
          gimmick! It was all lies!

Monk raises his hands, one of which is holding the award. A
UNIFORMED COP points.

                    UNIFORMED COP
          He's got a gun!

The police start to unload their weapons on Monk, who
collapses backward in SLO-MO. As orchestral music swells, we
get a bird's-eye view of Monk, dead, blood pooling around his
body. Cops surround him as the camera zooms out and we

                                             FADE TO BLACK.


INT. "PLANTATION ANNIHILATION" SET - DAY

Wiley is grinning ear to ear as Monk looks aghast.

                    WILEY
          He's dead? They smoke him? It's
          perfect. Yes! That is perfect. Time
          to pick out your tux, my brother.
                    (MORE)
                                                       110.
                    WILEY (CONT'D)
          We're going to the big show.
              (then, to his assistant)
          Hey, come transcribe this. We got
          it.

                    MONK
              (under his breath)
          Fuck.


EXT. STUDIO BACKLOT

Monk, a bit defeated, steps out of a building onto the
backlot of some nameless studio, carrying his script. It's a
beautiful day in L.A. and PEOPLE run to and fro. But Monk is
only looking for one person: Cliff, who's waiting for him in
a vintage convertible. Monk gets in the passenger's seat.

                    CLIFF
          So, are they gonna make your movie
          or what?

                    MONK
          Unfortunately yes.

                    CLIFF
          Ay! You know what? Good luck
          finding someone handsome enough to
          play me.

                    MONK
          I think they have.

                    CLIFF
          Who they got?

                    MONK
          Tyler Perry.

The brothers laugh. As Cliff starts the car, Monk turns to
his right and sees a SLAVE EXTRA from "Plantation
Annihilation" resting between takes. Monk locks eyes with the
extra, a younger man wearing Airpods; he throws Monk a peace
sign, the universal symbol of solidarity. Monk nods at the
man as the car takes off into the sunny day.

                            THE END

American Fiction



Writers :   Cord Jefferson
Genres :   Comedy  Drama


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