[TV Guide synopsis: A very special abortion episode. Rutheford High starts teaching sex ed. Special guest: Jesse Moreno.]

"Abruptly Amy" theme song:

"There She Goes," sung by Sixpence None The Richer:

There she goes...

There she goes again.

She's racing through my brain.

And I just can't contaaain

This feeling that remains.

There she goes...

Abruptly Amy

in

"Hot Head, Cold Fetus"

written by Hans Tojki

(Dawn peers over the horizon and shines through Amy's bedroom window, causing warm lignt to wash over Amy's slumbering features, accentuating the sheen of the silky fabric which is draped loosely over her voluptuous body. Focus in on her lovely face. She smiles warmly and her eyes flutter open. She takes a deep breath and sits up. She sleeps in the nude, so the camera never drops below a few inches of cleavage.)

AMY: What a beautiful morning! Hello, bed! Hello, pillow!

(She walks to the window and throws it open, leaning out with no modesty.)

AMY: Hello, sun! Hello, sky!

(Twirling, she pirouettes to the closet and retrieves a fuzzy bathrobe. She pulls it on and walks out into the hall, past Rita's open door.)

AMY: Hello, hallway! Hello, wallpaper!

RITA: (from the bedroom, groggy) Hell, Amy! Greet the dust mites, why don't you?

(Rita appears, her eyes baggy, her hair bedraggled, and her robe in disorder. She wears a miserable scowl.)

AMY: (still cheerful) Hello, crabby little sister!

(The two start walking downstairs.)

RITA: I just don't understand it, Amy. You've got a high-pressure job with the federal government, a steamy-but-non-committal relationship with the sexiest man alive, hordes of fiendish enemies questing for your demise, and you're a single mom who still has time to work at your elderly mother's bakery. All this and you don't have one wrinkle, one gray hair, or even morning breath! How do you do it?

AMY: Don't sound so surprised, Rita. You're so cynical! Just like my adopted daughter Andrea and our neice Daria. It's all a matter of attitude.

RITA: (confused) But you're always talking about sarcasm, and it's a great way ...

AMY: (firmer) I said, attitude can work miracles.

VOICE: Attitude and years of painful surgery.

(Amy is at the foot of the stairs, and she looks up in surprise. Across the room at the kitchen table, it is Andrea that has spoken as she sits over breakfast with Ruth.)

RUTH: That's no way to talk to your mother, young lady.

ANDREA: Shove it up your withered yellow ass.

AMY: (shocked) Andrea!

ANDREA: (innocent) Well I didn't want to call her "Grandma" ... Might make her feel old.

AMY: No, I want to know what you're doing up! It's ... (checks her watch) 30 minutes before school starts! You're going to be on time!

ANDREA: So?

AMY: (puzzled expression) I usually have to drag you kicking and screaming down the stairs in the morning.

ANDREA: So what? So I want to be on time for once. Geez, Mom, get off my back.

(Andrea straps on a backpack, pulls out a pencil from her pocket and checks to make sure it's sharpened, then leaves hurriedly. Amy and Rita sit down at the table. Ruth passes them already-prepared plates of pancakes.)

AMY: (looking after Andrea) That was strange.

RUTH: She's been up for an hour. Just about gave me a heart attack when she came downstairs all washed and ready to go.

(Amy scarfs down the pancakes. Rita watches with apparent envy.)

RITA: I shouldn't eat these. They'll go straight to my hips.

(Amy dabs at her lips with a napkin.)

AMY: Well, I'd better get changed and go out.

RUTH: Where are you going, dear?

AMY: Kristovo's little cousin is coming into town for a local concert. I'm going with Kristovo to the airport in Stantonville to pick him up.

RITA: (hopeful) Can I come?

AMY: Sorry, little sister. This morning it's just me and Kristovo.

RITA: But what's so special about an airport?

AMY: We're going to watch the planes landing and taking off on the runway all afternoon. (happy sigh) It'll be so romantic.

(Dejected, Rita gets up and leaves the table. After a moment, she walks back, grabs a handful of bacon, then leaves again.)

AMY: What's wrong with her?

RUTH: Your sister just wants to be included. Remember how you felt when Helen never let you tag along? Well now you're back and nothing's changed. Rita's a little bit jealous, Amy.

AMY: Oh. I never thought of that. (Bt.) I'll make it up to her the next chance I get!

RUTH: Why don't you take her to the airport with you?

AMY: I'll make it up to her the next next chance I get!

(cut to:)

(Amy and Kristovo sit sprawled in each other's arms, watching out the huge glass window. They've obviously been there for some time. A large jet lands.)

AMY: Is that the one?

KRISTOVO: That's the one.

(They get up, straighten out their clothing, and walk over to the port marked "arrivals." After a few seconds, Jesse Moreno exits, carrying his guitar case.)

KRISTOVO: Jesse!

JESSE: Hey, Cousin Kris. (turns to Amy) Hey.

KRISTOVO: This is Amy Barksdale. She's a top-secret operative for the FBI, like me. She's a genius in chemistry.

JESSE: Hey. (monotone, as if reciting lines) I'm studying advanced chemistry myself.

AMY: Really? I wouldn't have guessed it to look at you.

JESSE: I'm smarter than people think.

AMY: I can see that. Say, how'd you like to come to dinner tonight? Both of you?

JESSE: Sure.

AMY: Great! You can meet my daughter, Andrea.

JESSE: Cool.

(cut to:)

(From the hallway, we can see inside the window to Rm. 69. Andrea is staring wide-eyed and attentive, but we can't hear what is being said.)

(cut to:)

(Dinner. Amy, Kristovo, Andrea, Jesse, Rita and Ruth sit around the table. Amy and Kristovo are elbow to elbow, snuggling and feeding each other bits of pork. Jesse sits next to Andrea. He pretends to be oblivious, but once and a while checks her out. Andrea, for her part, sits stiff as a board, eyes going from Jesse to her mother and Kristovo.)

KRISTOVO: (sexy whisper) Your skin is cream. Your lips are like glistening rubies ... but tender, and warm. Your hair is fine silk, and your eyes are like butter.

AMY: (couldn't be more pleased) Go on ...

(There is a heavy sigh from Rita, who is staring downward into her plate.)

AMY: Um ... I mean, enough about me! Andrea, how was your day?

ANDREA: (caught off guard) My day? Who said anything about my day?

AMY: I did. How was it? You seemed awfully eager to go to school today. Was it worth it?

ANDREA: I don't have to answer that.

AMY: (a little hurt) All right. All right. You don't have to tell me. I'm only your mother. (Guilt fails to work. She turns to Jesse.) So how about you, Jesse? How was the plane ride over?

JESSE: (shrugs) I dunno. It was okay, I guess. There was some long movie about this robot dude on, so I fell asleep mostly. But the stewardesses were hot ...

(Amy kicks him under the table, and mouths the word "script.")

JESSE: I mean ... "The journey was intellectually stimulating." Yeah.

(They all stare at him awkwardly for a second.)

JESSE: I gotta go. I mean, I gotta go rest up. I mean, back at my place. I mean, Kristovo's place. I mean ... okay, cool.

(He stands and exits. Andrea relaxes visibly. Dinner resumes.)

AMY: You know, Andrea, Jesse is from Lawndale, just like you. Isn't that neat?

ANDREA: Um ... yeah.

AMY: Did you know him?

ANDREA: Naw ... he was in a band that hung around the school sometime. Some of Daria's friends. I think Jane Lane used to date him. (Dreamy.) All the girls thought he was a real hunk ...

(She stops abruptly as she realizes what she just said. All faces turn to her. Amy drops her fork.)

AMY: (budding smile) Andrea! I've never heard you talk that way about boys!

ANDREA: (suddenly defensive) What way? Who's talking about boys? I wasn't talking about boys. Somebody pass me the [bleep]ing ketchup.

(Andrea sits sullenly for a second. Amy shrugs and reaches for the ketchup.)

ANDREA: Fine. I'm not hungry. I'll be in my room.

(She pushes away from the table and runs upstairs. Amy looks at Kristovo. He shrugs. Amy squints intelligently.)

AMY: There's something not quite right here. Andrea interested in school. Andrea interested in boys. It doesn't quite fit.

RITA: (drawn in by the mystery) What is it?

AMY: I don't know ... but you can bet I'll get to the bottom of it!

(cut to:)

(Amy kneels, hunched over by the window with a pair of binoculars. There is a noise behind her, but she does not bother turning. It is Rita, coming up through the secret trap door.)

AMY: (without turning around) So, Rita. I see you've discovered my secret laboratory.

RITA: Um ... you told me to come up and tell you when Andrea left.

AMY: Ah, yes, that's right. So you'd feel more included. (Rita flinches) And so she has. I can see her now. Excellent work, Rita.

(Slightly encouraged, Rita picks her way around the chemistry equipment and hunches over Amy's shoulder, trying to see. Amy shoos her back.)

AMY: She's headed down the driveway ... past the hedges ... she's stopping at the mailbox. She's looking inside. Now she's waiting ...

(Amy's POV:)

(We see Andrea through the binoculars. She adjusts the straps on her backpack. Then she looks around. When she's satisfied that she's alone, she reaches back and has a good scratch.)

(cut back to Rita and Amy)

AMY: Oh, Andrea ... we're gonna need to have a talk. Wait a minute! Wait a minute!

RITA: What? What is it?

AMY: She's ... it's ... it's the bus! She's getting on the bus! I knew it!

(Amy sets the binoculars aside, rises, and begins pacing.)

AMY: This tells me that whatever's going on, it's happening at the school itself! This leaves me only one course of action.

RITA: Go talk to Andrea's teachers?

AMY: Infiltrate the school!

RITA: (wide-eyed) Are you serious?

AMY: Dead serious! (turns to the camera) This is the part where she warns me about the consequences of my actions.

RITA: Let me come with you!

AMY: (still to the camera) Of course, when has Rita ever thought about the consequences of her actions? (to Rita) I dunno, Rita. It'll be pretty risky ...

RITA: (it all comes out at once) But I never get to go on any wild adventures, or do any of that exciting FBI stuff!

AMY: But what about all those times you got mixed up in my fringe intrigue? And hated it?

RITA: (whining) That wasn't for real! That was just me being in the wrong place at the wrong time! You've never invited me to do anything! Maybe if I'd had more excitement in my life, I never would have turned to alcohol.

AMY: (to camera) Ouch!

RITA: Oh, please, Amy, please ... let me come with you on just one adventure! Just one! That's all I ask! (Bt.) Plus, you know, High School, it's not like they're going to come out shooting or anything. (Bt.) Puh-leeze?

(Amy considers. Close up of her face.)

RUTH: (voice over) Your sister just wants to be included. Remember how you felt when Helen never let you tag along?

AMY: Well ... alright. But you'll need gloves ...

RITA: Check!

AMY: ... sturdy shoes ...

RITA: Check!

AMY: ... toenail clippers ...

RITA: Um ... okay.

AMY: ... and a skin-hugging black outfit.

RITA: A wha -- Why?

AMY: (as if it's self explanatory) Tight crawlspaces, Rita? Think about it!

(Thinking about it doesn't seem to help.)

RITA: I don't know ...

AMY: Look, do you want to come with me, or not? You've got those old leotards, don't you?

(Rita looks at her hips unhappily.)

RITA: I guess ...

AMY: And we'll probably get really sweaty. Well, you will, anyway.

RITA: What's that supposed to mean?

AMY: I had most of my pores sealed. Now suit up. We have very little time before school starts. The roads are busy. We'll have to take the Amy-mobile!

RITA: (puzzled) Your convertible?

AMY: Not exactly ...

(cut to:)

(Several cars, headed directly towards the camera, whiz by at a ferocious rate. As the traffic continues to zip by, a sleek black car of unknown design stealthily and dramatically approaches.)

(The camera pans to the shoulder of the road, where Amy is intensely peddling a large, silver bicycle. Rita has crammed herself into an oversized kiddie-seat over the rear wheel, hanging on for dear life. Both are dressed in their black "inflitration" outfits and wear helmets.)

RITA: Aaaaameeee! You're going too fast!

AMY: We're almost there!

(The black car swerves as it passes, nearly missing them. Rita shrieks, covering her eyes. A moment passes.)

RITA: Are we still alive?

AMY: Yep! And we've reached our destination.

RITA: Oh, good ... (opens her eyes) OH GOD!

(Rita POV:)

(Over the top of Amy's helmet we can see the Rutheford High School ... but between the bike and the school is one of those enormous car-carrying trucks, parked in the street. Amy shows no signs of slowing down.)

RITA: Amy! For God's sake, slow down! You're going to hit one of those enormous car-carrying trucks!

AMY: (smirk) That's the idea, sister.

(Really close now. Rita struggles with her "safety" harness, but fails.)

RITA: ARE YOU CRAZY?!?

AMY: I guess I must be!

RITA: WHAT?!?!?

AMY: (turns her head to explain) That was sarcasm ... it's a great way to ...

(The bike hits the ramp, goes careening up and over several cars to launch off the roof of the truck and arc through the air.)

AMY: ... DEEEEEEEAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLLL! Yee-haw!

(The bike hits the roof of the High School running and smashes into an aluminum chimney. Amy and Rita go flying into the air. In one smooth move, Amy twists around in mid-air, whips off her helmet, lands on her feet and catches her sister. Rita stares at mid-air for several seconds, petrified. The bike tips over and screeches to a halt, scraped but otherwise unharmed.)

AMY: Don't forget to breathe, sis.

(Rita inhales sharply, and Amy sets her down on the concrete. She looks up incredulously, still panting.)

RITA: God, I need a beer!

(Amy examines the ruined chimney.)

AMY: Hand me the toenail clippers.

RITA: (a little perturbed) What for?

AMY: I need to widen the gap in this chimney.

RITA: Why?

AMY: So we can climb in, of course!

RITA: (eyes the black hole distastefully) In there?

AMY: (sighs) Look, Rita, I know television glamorizes it with pretty pictures of office work and trips to crime scenes, but this is what F.B.I. agents do! Now you can come with me, or you can stay up here.

(Rita sighs and hands Amy the clipper. Amy begins cutting.)

RITA: But why a toenail clipper? Why not scissors? Or a knife?

AMY: Too easy to trace.

(Amy proceeds to hack through the remaining flaps of aluminum and create a space large enough for them both to crawl down.)

AMY: Follow me!

(She dives into the gap. Rita gives a small groan and follows.)

(cut to:)

(The screen is pitch black. We can hear Amy and Rita and the occasional creak of cheap metal.)

RITA: (nervous whisper) Amy ... are you sure this stuff can support our weight?

AMY: (also whispering) Relax. My calculations show you haven't gained more than 11 lbs. in the last few months. We'll be fine. Wait ... I think I hear something ...

MUFFLED VOICE: Alright, I trust everyone took sufficient notes last time, so I'll just go over a few key points ...

AMY: My innate sense of direction tells me we're directly above Andrea's first hour class.

RITA: (intrigued) What is it?

AMY: The printout just said "SE 101." Andrea wouldn't tell me what it meant.

(They listen intently for several seconds.)

RITA: What's he saying?

AMY: I don't know ... something about Regina. Must be geography. Here, we should be over a vent now ... I'll just jimmy open the flap ...

(A sliver of light breaks onto the screen, revealing a handsome male teacher who looks to be in his early thirties.)

AMY: ... and viola!

TEACHER: (with a hint of a Swedish accent) So, now that we've had a chance to review ... (he reaches to the side and holds up a banana) ... here's how to put on a condom.

AMY: OH MY GOD!

(Abandoning all pretense of secrecy, Amy kicks down the vent and drops into the classroom. In a series of lightning fast ninja moves, she is at the teacher's side, and a swift flick of her foot sends the banana splattering against the blackboard. A collective gasp goes up.)

TEACHER: (shocked and outraged) What's going on here?

AMY: The corruption of young minds, that's what! And I'm here to put a stop to it!

TEACHER: (blustering) These young minds are being educated!

AMY: Not today!

(A ferocious jab to the gut sends the well-built man stumbling backwards across the room to bump against the wall. There is a crash from the vent above and Rita comes crashing down to land in the man's arms, her skin-tight body suit ripped in several appealing places. She stares into his eyes for a moment, then blushes.)

RITA: (small giggle) Um ... hi.

AMY: (addressing the class) I don't know what damage they've subjected you to, but I'll see to it that it stops here and now! (flips out her badge from some hidden pocket) F.B.I.! And now you're free! Free to enjoy your innocence!

(stunned silence, then, from the fourth row ...)

ANDREA: Mom?!

AMY: Oh ... hi, honey.

(Andrea stands up, hands in fists, voice icy.)

ANDREA: How could you do this? Who do you think you are? (She looks around at the class, which is now staring at her.) #$*%ing $#!&! You can all go to hell!

(She grabs her books and storms out the door. Amy reaches out after her.)

AMY: Andrea, wait!

(The door slams shut.)

(In the back row, the cheerleader Charissa blows a casual bubble.)

CHARISSA: (smirks) Don't worry. She'll be back for more dirt. Like, like she'd ever have a chance to use it, y'know?

(Amy gives an exasperated sigh and runs out after Andrea. A moment later, she sticks her head back through.)

AMY: I'll be back later, kids! And remember: "Sex! It's a great way to ..." I mean, "It can wait!" C'mon, Rita.

(cut to:)

(In the back of the shop, Ruth is kneading dough with a rolling pin. The back door creaks open and Amy walks in, now wearing jeans and a loose-fitting jacket.)

RUTH: (looks up in surprise) Amy! What's wrong!

AMY: (urgently) Mom, have you seen Andrea?

RUTH: Andrea? No, not since this morning.

AMY: Damn!

RUTH: What happened?

AMY: It turns out Rutheford High is teaching ... sex education! (Ruth gasps in terror.) That's right. I had no choice but to shut the place down. Rita's there right now maintaining peace and order.

(cut to:)

(Rita leans up against the lockers outside Rm. 69, eyebrows flitting coquettishly. The sex ed. teacher stands next to her, a broad leer on his face.)

RITA: So Sven, when did you choose education as a career track?

SVEN: Well, to be honest, after so many years in the adult film circuit, I wanted a challenge ...

(cut to:)

AMY: Andrea got upset when I showed up. I've been all over town, and I haven't found her anywhere. She was pretty angry when she left. I'm very concerned about what she might do

RUTH: (unsure) Well ... Andrea ought to be able to take care of herself.

AMY: But don't you see, mom? She's been tainted! That school put ideas in her head! Who knows what seedy hive of scum and villainy she'll find herself in ...

(cut to:)

(The building is the same dive it was in "Raiding the Bar." A low, harsh, alternative groove fills the air.)

(cut to:)

(Andrea sits by herself in a dark corner brooding. A tall silhouette slides over the table, and she looks up.)

ANDREA: Oh. Hey. Wasn't expecting to find you here. Good concert?

(The shadow moves into view. It is Jesse, holding a beer. He sits.)

JESSE: It was cool. You don't look so good. Bad day at school.

ANDREA: The worst. My mom crashed my sex ed. class.

JESSE: (Laughs. It is a strange, unnatural sound.) Hey, that's not cool. (takes a sip of his beer) But, I mean, 's not like you need that class, huh?

ANDREA: Um ... well.

JESSE: Whoa. You're a virgin?

(Andrea turns away, blushing.)

ANDREA: &^#%, you don't have to talk so damn loud.

JESSE: Oh, hey, I'm sorry. I just figured, you know, a good lookin' girl like you.

ANDREA: (softening) You really think I'm good looking?

JESSE: (shrugs) Yeah, sure.

ANDREA: (leans forward, a small smile) And I'm sure you've got plenty of experience, huh?

JESSE: Uh ... yuh, I guess so. (Bt.) You want a sip of my beer?

ANDREA: (hotly) I know I shouldn't be feeling this way. I barely know you. I should reject you as a matter of principle, but there's something about you ... something irresistible ... your hair ... your chest ... some part of me that can't refuse ... that desperately wants ... wants ... to be making you breakfast in the morning.

(She holds her breath. Jesse raises an eyebrow.)

JESSE: Cool.

(We have a view of several numbered, dirty off-white doors, close together. The brown curtains on the center window are drawn shut, but we can hear the voices coming from inside.)

ANDREA: So, um ... how exactly do I put this thing on ...

JESSE: You mean you don't know?

ANDREA: Um ... no one ever showed me how.

JESSE: Oh. That's okay, I've got plenty of experience. First, you moisten the tip, see, then you put it on. An' ya gotta be real gentle with it. It needs to be smooth ...

ANDREA: Like this?

JESSE: Oh yeah ... that's just right.

(There is the static crackle of a record needle as it touches vinyl, and smooth music begins to play ...)

(Weak daylight filters in through the thin white curtain. We see an overhead shot of the bed, with a bare-chested Jesse on the right side, asleep, and Andrea on the left side. She is awake, and looking very intense. She looks at Jesse, then down at herself. Reaching over, she gives him a poke in the shoulder.)

ANDREA: Hey.

(At the touch, Jesse bolts upright, head whipping back and forth. He looks very disoriented.)

JESSE: Wha ... who ... xgfnclm ... where am I?

TRENT: (voice over) You have to wake Jesse up just right or he gets all disoriented.

JESSE: (holds his head, looks around) Oh, man ... what happened?

ANDREA: You don't remember?!

JESSE: (sees her) Oh ... whoa ... man ...

ANDREA: (a bit irked) Well never mind.

(There is an uncomfortable pause.)

ANDREA: So ... what now?

(Jesse turns around.)

ANDREA: Why don't we talk? You could tell me about your job, or school. They say you're a chemist. What do you think about my mom's theories on bio-molecular engineering?

JESSE: Uh ... Look, I'm gonna level with you. They said all this smart stuff would, like, broaden my character appeal and go beyond boundaries and stuff, but it's just makin' my head hurt, so I'm gonna go.

ANDREA: Go? You're going to GO?

JESSE: Um, yeah ... I think I got a rehearsal back in Lawndale anyway.

ANDREA: (incensed) What? That's IT? You're leaving? Just like that?

JESSE: (pulling on his vest) Yeah, I oughtta. It's my turn to bring the peanut butter.

(Andrea stares, dumbfounded. Jesse gets up and we hear the door shut. Andrea looks down at herself.)

ANDREA: &$%@

(cut to:)

(Amy is pacing back and forth, checking her watch and fussing with her hair. Rita sits on the couch, looking uncomfortable.)

AMY: Where could she be?

RITA: She's only been gone one night. She's been gone before.

AMY: But it was different then?

RITA: How?

AMY: Questions aren't helping, Rita! What we need are answers! Why don't you go check the south side again?

RITA: I already did! On my way back from the bar!

AMY: (whirling) The BAR? Dammit, Rita ...

RITA: So I checked the bar! Was there anything wrong with checking the bar? She could have been at the bar! (Bt.) Look, Amy, while we have some free time, I thought we should talk.

AMY: About what?

RITA: Um ... I got asked out on a date.

AMY: Really? Hey, that's great! By who?

RITA: That Swedish teacher at the school.

AMY: (whistles) Go Rita!

RITA: (unhappily) Yeah.

AMY: So why so glum?

RITA: Well ... it's just that I'm confused. I mean, I've been watching people at the bar, and relationships today seem so anachronistic. Sven seems like a great guy, but I've made so many bad decisions about men in the past. And he's a very physical person, which I guess I don't mind, but it's all wrapped up with these mixed signals I'm getting from myself and society, and maybe dating just isn't the right thing for me right now, even though I'm very attracted to him physically ...

AMY: Stop right there. Are you saying that on one hand, you're told that women should be independent and don't need men to be healthy and happy, but on the other hand, you feel pressure from society to express your sexuality via an intimate relationship?

RITA: Yes! That's it exactly!

AMY: (waves a dismissive hand) Unfortunately, that's not your problem at all. You see, sexuality is independence. Your problem is that you're held down by Puritannical small-town values in a modern world. Centuries of female repression have made you two things: horny and guilty. Well that has to change.

RITA: So ... I should date him even if I don't want to?

AMY: Ah, but you do want to.

RITA: Well sort of, but ...

AMY: No buts about it! If you don't stand up and take charge, people will walk all over you.

(There is the sound of a door opening.)

AMY: Mom?

ANDREA: Mom?

(Andrea enters the screen.)

AMY: ANDREA! Where have you been? We've been worried sick!

ANDREA: I've been with Jesse.

AMY: The concert, that's right! (sigh of relief) Thank goodness.

ANDREA: You don't understand. I've been with Jesse.

AMY: I don't understand.

(Andrea reaches into her pocket and holds up a small plastic tab.)

ANDREA: (small voice) And the test came up positive.

(Rita gasps.)

AMY: Huh?

(Rita leans over and whispers into Amy's ear. Her eyes widen in shock.)

AMY: PREGNANT? (Andrea flinches.) You went and got yourself pregnant?!

ANDREA: (a flash of anger) Well he ...

AMY: "He" nothing! This is all about you, young lady! You've been corrupted by modern world values! Well this is small-town America, where "wholesome" isn't just an outdated idea! It's all that school's fault! Well we'll see how they like the full force of Federal Bureau justice! And him! That low-life punk! Wait until Kristovo hears about this! You stay right here, young lady, while I go settle this!

(Amy seizes her coat and stomps offscreen.)

AMY: Pregnant! (shouting back) Keep her here, Rita, until I get back!!!

(A door slams. Rita and Andrea stare at each other silently. After a moment, Rita reaches under the couch cushion and pulls out a can of beer.)

RITA: I guess you need this more than I do.

ANDREA: (indicating her stomach) I probably shouldn't.

RITA: Oh. Right. (Bt) (cracks the beer herself)

(cut to:)

(Amy is pounding on the door angrily. Kristovo answers.)

KRISTOVO: Amy? What is it?

AMY: Where is he?

KRISTOVO: Where is who? Me?

AMY: Your no-good hormone-crazed cousin, that's who!

KRISTOVO: (scratching his head) Alfonso?

AMY: Jesse!

KRISTOVO: Oh. He left a couple hours ago.

AMY: What?

KRISTOVO: Something about peanut butter. Why?

AMY: BECAUSE HE KNOCKED UP MY DAUGHTER, THAT'S WHY?

KRISTOVO: He didn't!

AMY: HE DID! AND NOW SHE'S ... pregnant!

KRISTOVO: Oh. Don't worry, It's not permanent.

AMY: You insensitive clod!

(She falls against him, raining fists on his chest. He takes it like a man. Eventually, she collapses into his arms with a sob.)

AMY: We're alone! Alone in a mad world!

KRISTOVO: (smoldering) Oh, Amy ...

(They collapse beneath the screen in passion.)

(cut to:)

(Ruth and Rita sit at the dinner table. They are watching a counter-top TV.)

MALE TV ANNOUNCER: Next up, local news. We'll be back after these messages.

(The door opens and Amy enters.)

RUTH: Amy, where have you been?

AMY: Oh, out and about. Taking care of this and that. (looks around) Where's Andrea?

RUTH: She went out.

AMY: You didn't stop her.

RITA: Stop her? Stop her how? You're the FBI agent, remember? Besides, she flashed that creepy necklace thing at me.

AMY: (sighs) Well, I suppose she can't do any more damage.

RUTH: You know, Amy, it wasn't very motherly of you to run out on Andrea in her time of need.

RITA: (under her breath) Look who's talking.

AMY: Well I'm sorry, mother, but I had important business. I made a few phone calls this afternoon.

RUTH: To who?

AMY: Some of the local parents, for example. They were very interested to hear what was going on behind the ivy-caked walls of Rutheford High! I also had the Justice department whip up something special.

RITA: (pointing to the TV) Look! Look! It's Amy!

AMY: Turn it up!

(Close up: TV screen. Amy's picture is marked "File Photo" and was obviously taken during her pre-cosmetic-surgery days.)

AMY: Aack!

RITA: Turn it up!

MALE TV ANNOUNCER: ... injunction was filed today at the request of Special Agent Amy Barksdale, a native Ruthefordian who only recently returned to her home town. Now we'll take you live to the scene of the demonstrations.

(The screen cuts to an exterior building shot. The caption reads "Rutheford High School." A female reporter stands in front of the camera with a long line of protesting students behind her. They carry signs such as "Birth Control or MIND Control?" and "Let My People Know")

REPORTER: Thanks, Thom. As you can see, students have gathered here at Rutheford High en masse to protest the recent shut-down of the controversial sexual education program.

(Ryan the skate-punk kid elbows his way onto the screen. His sign reads "Diaphragm? Yes, ma'am!")

RYAN: (shouting) I never got to find out how a condom works! Do you want me to get AIDS?

(The reporter moves off to one side.)

REPORTER: Do we indeed? And now comments from Principal Tingle.

(Pan to Tingle.)

REPORTER: What do you have to say about this apparently student-led protest?

TINGLE: Well, I'm in a rather difficult position. On one hand, concerned parents deserve input. (muttering) Especially parents capable of infiltrating our school via overhead air ducts. Which will not happen again, by the way! On the other hand, three of the five working toilets in this building have already been cherry-bombed, so I'm forced to concede that student opinion counts for something. And on the other hand, my annual review by the school board is next week. So on the final hand, I'm calling a PTA meeting for tomorrow night.

REPORTER: Thank you Principal Tingle. We take you now to one of the students involved in the protest. Andrea Hecuba, daughter of FBI agent Amy Barksdale.

(Pan to Andrea.)

ANDREA: Adopted daughter. Amy Barksdale is crazy! This is an important issue and she's gone and made it personal! Well she can just $&#@ off! 'Cuz she's WRONG!

(Back to the kitchen table. Gasps ensue.)

AMY: We've got to get over there! Before it's too late!

RITA: Too late for what?

AMY: For Andrea! She'll only damage herself by besmirching my good name!

RITA: (snorts) Sure. (Bt) "Besmirching?"

AMY: To the Amy-mobile!

RUTH: (sips her coffee) Sorry, honey, I lent the Amy-mobile to the little girl down the street. The one with the cute pigtails who always curtsies to her mother. Why don't you take Dad's old car ... the Crusty Cruiser? Or better yet ... don't go! Spare yourself and the girl a little embarassment! Remember when Dad crashed your big tree-hugging schpiel?

AMY: That was Helen!

RUTH: Well she didn't like it! And neither will Andrea!

AMY: Sorry, Mom, but as an FBI agent I took an oath to stand for truth, justice and the American way! And that means no right to peaceful assembly until they're eighteen!

(cut to:)

(A horde of students marches back and forth in front of the school building, chanting their slogans. Amy's red convertible pulls up to the curb. It is followed by a small caravan of station wagons and sporty minivans. Amy steps out of her car, and the cars behind her open to reveal a small army of soccer-moms. Rita stays in the passenger seat, slumped wearily against the window.)

(Amy and company march up to the front of the student line, where they are met by Andrea and a small group of students. The news crews move in.)

AMY: Alright, Andrea, what's going on?

ANDREA: Can't you read? The students have spoken! We deserve to know the truth about sex!

ZEALOUS MOTHER: Over my dead body!

AMY: (raises a hand to silence the woman) Maybe they do, maybe they don't. That's not the point. The point is, it's up to your parents to decide how and when, not the school!

ANDREA: It's a public school, mom!

STUDENT IN CROWD: Free the information from the hands of the oppressors!

AMY: (shocked) Andrea Barksdale! How could you put yourself on the side of this insane propaganda?

ANDREA: How could you side against your own daughter!

AMY: How could you side against your own mother!

ANDREA: Well why didn't you have enough time to talk to me when I wanted to talk?!

AMY: Well why did you have to go and get yourself PREGNANT?!

(There is a stunned silence as Amy covers her mouth.)

RYAN: (devastated) How could you?!?

(He breaks down and flees. Andrea stares mutely, her jaw slack. They both turn towards the television camera. A blinking red light is marked "Live Feed.")

ANDREA: Holy &#$!! God, Mom, how could you do this to me? I hate you! I HATE YOU!

(Andrea elbows her way into the crowd and disappears into the darkness.)

AMY: Andrea! Wait! I didn't mean ...

(She trails off as she realizes that Andrea is beyond her reach.)

(A very dejected Amy gets into the car.)

AMY: Come on, Rita. Let's go home.

(There is no response.)

AMY: Rita?

(She turns. Rita is not in the passenger seat.)

RITA: (from offscreen) Um ... thanks, I guess.

(Exterior view: Amy turns to look out the window. Rita is pinned up against a school bus by Sven. Amy sighs and starts the car.)

AMY: At least someone is enjoying themselves.

(cut to:)

(Several tables have been set up in the library for the PTA meeting. Tingle sits at the center, ringed by staff members. Amy and several other local parents sit opposite them. Tingle produces a gavel.)

TINGLE: I hereby call this meeting of the PTA to order!

AMY: Principal Tingle ...

(One of the old lady teachers glowers at Amy.)

OLD LADY: Old business first!

TINGLE: Is there any old business, Mrs. Schoen?

(Schoen, a woman in her late 40's, adjusts her glasses and peers at a sheet of paper.)

SCHOEN: We've got one of the ladies' toilets back on line. Just nobody flush it twice in the same hour.

TINGLE: Can't be helped.

AMY: I have some new business ...

OLD LADY: (snaps) Ms. Barksdale! Raise your hand and wait to be called on!

SCHOEN: (continuing) And we still don't have a replacement for Reggie Bell.

TINGLE: Who's filling his place?

SCHOEN: Dr. Ludlow. He's half deaf, but he plays baritone. Or he used to.

AMY: Excuse me ...

TINGLE: (to Schoen) Did we schedule any interviews?

AMY: Pardon me ...

OLD LADY: QUIET! This is a library, young lady!

SCHOEN: (to Tingle) The School Board has one set up for next Tuesday.

AMY: (jumping to her feet) EXCUSE ME!

(All stop and turn to look at her.)

TINGLE: Yes?

AMY: I think we have more urgent business to discuss!

(Tingle leans over and examines the agenda.)

TINGLE: I'm sorry, Ms. Barksdale, but it looks like we won't have time to get to any new business today.

AMY: What? That's absurd! The PTA needs to discuss the issue of sex education today!

(There is a muted chorus of agreement from behind her. Tingle sighs and massages his temples.)

TINGLE: Look, Amy, I'll be frank. This is exactly the sort of ugly scandal the school doesn't need right now.

AMY: Need it or not, you've got to do something.

TINGLE: Actually, we don't. We've put the class on hold. Temporarily, of course. Just until we can get this whole thing settled. It didn't help that you made a big legal thing out of it.

AMY: So that's it? We just wait?

TINGLE: (gives her a pointed look.) That's the idea. You've got what you wanted didn't you? For now, anyway?

AMY: Well ... alright! For now.

(cut to:)

(We see a rear view of Rita, sitting on a park bench. A thin man dressed all in black and carrying a Bible sits down next to her.)

PRIEST: What troubles you, my child?

RITA: Oh! You startled me!

PRIEST: (laughs) Well now, I certainly didn't mean to do that. You looked like you could use an ear.

RITA: Oh. Well, I've been confused lately. My older sister is always bossing everybody around, telling them what to do. Well now I'm having a bit of a boyfriend crisis ...

PRIEST: You don't say.

RITA: ... I don't want one.

PRIEST: Well that is a shame.

RITA: For maybe the first time in my life I don't want one! But one wants me. And there are so many times when I've been wanting and looking and searching and never finding ... what can I do about it? What should I do?

PRIEST: My daughter, you can always take solace in the bosom of the Holy Church.

RITA: Thank you, Father.

(Cut to front view:)

PRIEST: (wags a finger, smiles) Ah-ah ... actually, I'm a minister, not a priest.

RITA: Oh!

MINISTER-NOT-A-PRIEST: (leans forward) Now what was it you were saying about being dissatisfied with your current boyfriend?

(cut to:)

(It is just before class. The students sit, bored, and waiting for the teacher. One chair remains empty. The door creaks open and Andrea enters. She sits down at the empty seat, which just happens to be right next to Charissa.)

ANDREA: You say one word and I'll rip out your throat.

CHARISSA: Um ... what-ever.

ANDREA: I mean it!

CHARISSA: Like, what makes you think I'm interested in riding your sorry ass? It's not like you're the first person in this school to get, y'know ... that way.

ANDREA: (intrigued) Really?

CHARISSA: Duh! Not everyone is a frigid little troll like you! (Andrea clenches a fist) Okay, okay. So there's this guy Scott, y'know? He's, like, out of college early, if you know what I mean. He can fix you up.

ANDREA: (whispering) You mean ... you mean abortion?

CHARISSA: (wrinkles her nose) Puh-leeze! That's such an ugly word. Scott prefers "voluntary pre-natal correction."

(The door opens and a young, perky female teacher enters. She has a big smile on her face and talks in a bubbly, sing-song voice.)

TEACHER: Hello, class! While your "reproductive theory" class is on hold, I'll be teaching you all about the Jewish holocaust and the Native American disenfranchisement! (groans ensue) Isn't that exciting?

CHARISSA: (whispering to Andrea) You want me to set you up?

ANDREA: Uh ... maybe later.

(cut to:)

AMY: I don't know, Kristovo ... do you think maybe I'm overreacting?

KRISTOVO: In what sense?

AMY: Well, if I hadn't shut down the sex ed class, maybe Andrea would have learned about the dangers and hazards of casual intercourse?

KRISTOVO: But they weren't just talking about the dangers. They were showing off the safety features. You did the right thing.

AMY: Yeah. I guess you're right.

KRISTOVO: You should also probably apologize for the whole infiltration thing.

AMY: Not in your life! It could have been some secret scholastic cult that I'd never have learned about otherwise, like a Dianetics Sect, or a Math Brigade!

KRISTOVO: Math?

AMY: Oh, yeah! Did you ever study the Cult of Pythagoras? Whoo!

(cut to:)

(Ruth, Rita and Amy sit around the table, poking at their meal of pretzels, buns and bagels. They all look and sound enormously tired.)

RITA: (whining) Why do we have to eat this? Why aren't we selling it?

RUTH: (snapping) I didn't feel like cooking.

AMY: (reaches for a bowl) Here. Have some happy dough.

(None of them look especially happy at the thought. Amy sets the bowl aside.)

(There is the click of a door latch.)

AMY: (spinning around) Andrea?

(Kristovo enters)

KRISTOVO: It's me. I figured you girls wouldn't be in the mood to cook. (Their faces light up.) So I brought some breadsticks. (Their faces fall.)

(The door clicks again. They all turn as Andrea enters.)

AMY: Andrea!!!

(Amy leaps out of her chair and gives Andrea a fierce hug. Andrea doesn't struggle too much. Her face remains frozen. After a moment, Amy relaxes her grip.)

AMY: I want to apologize, Kiddo. I should never have blurted out your secret in front of all your friends. And those total strangers. ... And the news cameras. I promise to do better the next time you get pregnant.

ANDREA: Well, I guess the damage is done, so it's no use moping about it.

AMY: And I want you to know that whatever you decide, I'm here for you, okay Honey?

ANDREA: Even if I want to get an abortion?

(Amy abruptly releases her, staggering backwards.)

AMY: An abortion? You want to get an abortion?

ANDREA: I didn't say I wanted one! I only said that maybe I was thinking about it.

AMY: But ... but ... it's a BABY!!! You can't just kill it! You can't!

RUTH: Oh, calm down! It's not a baby yet! Just a few cells of hers and that odious boy! (shudders) What an unfortunate choice of a father.

ANDREA: He'd be no father.

RITA: Cells are still alive, mother.

RUTH: I didn't say it wasn't! But whatever it is, it's inside Andrea! When I was growing up, women didn't have the right to choose. Now we do. So I say we ought to use it!

KRISTOVO: (volunteering his opinion) But choosing to keep the baby is also a choice.

RUTH: (snaps) Who asked you? Certainly not me! Of course there's more than one choice! And just what exactly does a man know about these things?

(Kristovo falls silent.)

AMY: She's not even eighteen yet! She can't make decisions for herself yet!

ANDREA: (coldly) What makes you think you could stop me?

AMY: (darkens) I'd find a way!

ANDREA: Well so would I!

AMY: That's it! Go to your room, young lady!

ANDREA: (shouting) Maybe I will!

(She stomps off.)

KRISTOVO: Amy ...

(She shoves him away.)

AMY: I'm going to my room!

(cut to:)

(Dawn peers over the horizon and shines through Amy's bedroom window, causing warm lignt to wash over Amy's slumbering features, accentuating the sheen of the silky fabric which is draped loosely over her voluptuous body. Focus in on her lovely face. Her mouth twitches downward and her eyes flutter open. She takes a deep breath and sits up. She sleeps in the nude, so the camera never drops below a few inches of cleavage.)

AMY: (somber) Oh. It's morning. Hello cracked ceiling.

(She walks to the window and pushes at the shutters.)

AMY: (morose) Hello, chipped paint. Hello, dead squirrel messing up the lawn.

(Scratching, she stumbles to the closet and retrieves a fuzzy bathrobe. She pulls it on and walks out into the hall, past Rita's open door.)

AMY: (depressed) Hello, ugly picture of me when I was fourteen. Hello, hastily-scrawled note on Andrea's door.

(She pauses.)

AMY: Wait a minute ... note on Andrea's door? (she peers at it) "Don't try to stop me ..." ANDREA!

(She kicks in the door. There is a figure huddled under the covers.)

AMY: Andrea! Oh, thank goodness you haven't left yet!

(She moves towards the bed.)

AMY: I've been thinking, Andrea, and Grandma Ruth was right last night. I should respect your decision-making rights, and use love and caring and maybe money to make sure you make the right choices about your life.

(There is no response from the slumbering figure. Only a loud snore.)

AMY: (wrinkling her nose) Andrea, have you been drinking.

(She reaches down and turns the sleeping figure around.)

AMY: AAAAAAGGGGGHHHH!!!!!!! Andrea! You dyed your hair!!!

RITA: (slurring) Go'way, Amy ...

AMY: Rita? Rita! What are you doing in Andrea's bed? (Bt) (sudden realization)You're drunk!

RITA: (yelling) Why th' HELL'd I be drunk?! I'm in recov'ry for Chrissakes! Now leave me alone, I've got two men to worry about.

AMY: Rita! Will you please stop your selfish concerns? Andrea's gone and run away! I think she's gone to have an abortion!

RITA: (sullen) So wha' can I do about it?

AMY: Here! Take this! (hands Rita a small black box) It's a tracking device. I planted a homing beacon on her last night, just in case! Use it to find her! You can take my car!

RITA: What about you?

AMY: I've got to get to my lab!

RITA: Your lab? What the hell ...

AMY: No time to explain! Just GO! Whatever you do, STALL HER!

(Amy pulls her keys out of her bathrobe and hands them to Rita, then turns around and runs out of the room.)

AMY: Brain, don't fail me now!

(cut to:)

(Andrea and Charissa wait amidst the gloom and trash. Andrea looks apprehensive. Charissa looks bored.)

ANDREA: I thought he was supposed to be here by now.

CHARISSA: Relax. Scott always keeps his appointments. He's very punctual when it comes to business. (turns to look at Andrea.) You do have money, right?

ANDREA: Um ... yeah. It seems kind of expensive, though.

CHARISSA: (hard laugh) Not as expensive as a kid, y'know? God! All those diapers and, like, baby powder and stuff.

ANDREA: But it's just a shot, right?

CHARISSA: It's not the shot that's expensive. It's the "procurement" fee.

VOICE: Did someone say "fee?"

(Andrea whirls around. Behind her is a tall, dark man in his twenties with long ratty hair and a black trench coat. He puffs on a cigarette and hacks.)

SCOTT: This the girl?

CHARISSA: Like, do you see anyone else here?

SCOTT: That'll be $300 up front. $25 extra if ya wanna pain killer.

ANDREA: Pain killer? I thought it was just a shot.

SCOTT: (sadistic grin) Oh it is. The hurtin' comes later.

CHARISSA: (dismissive noise) Gawd, Scott! Don't give her a friggin' heart attack. You never charged for the morphine before. Just give it to her, okay?

SCOTT: (frowns) This chick some friend of yours or somethin'?

CHARISSA: (scoffs) No!

SCOTT: Then why are you here?

CHARISSA: (sighs) It's a girl thing. You, like, wouldn't understand.

SCOTT: (spits) Whatever. You got the money, I got the needle. Put up or get out.

(There is the sudden screech of tires from outside the alley. Doors slam, and after a moment, Rita and Ruth rush into the alley. Scott attempts to hide his face behind the upturned collar of his coat.)

SCOTT: (defensive) Hey, hey, what's going on? I didn't invite no more people to this party!

RITA: Andrea! Wait! Are you un-pregnant yet?

ANDREA: Aunt Rita! Grandma! What are you doing here? How did you find me?

RITA: A tracking device!

SCOTT: (swears) That's it, I'm outta here.

ANDREA: Just a minute ... she put a trace on me?!

RUTH: It was for your own good, dear. Back alley vendors are no way to have an abortion. If you're really sure that's what you want, we can go down to the clinic right now.

RITA: Mom! Amy said to stall her!

ANDREA: (her eyes narrow) She did, huh? C'mon, Grandma. Let's go.

(From off in the distance there is the sound of crackling gravel, and a slowly growing voice ...)

AMY: aaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnnNNNNDDDDRRRREEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAA ...

(The Amy-mobile pedals into view. Amy leaps off, flourishing a beaker of clear, aniseptic-looking liquid.)

AMY: I did it! I did it! Andrea! Wait! I did it!

ANDREA: (startled) Did what?

AMY: It's a chemical compound that will preserve the fetus and keep it alive once we take it out of you! We can look at it's genetics to make sure it'll be okay! We can keep it in the freezer until you decide you're ready! It doesn't have to die!

(Andrea is clearly stunned. She turns her head and bangs it against the brick wall.)

ANDREA: Why, oh why is this happening to me? Why does life have to be so complicated? And why, God, why did that stupid Preg-a-Test have to come up positive!

(Something occurs to Charissa.)

CHARISSA: Um ... hey, waittaminute. You used Preg-a-Test™? Not Pregna-Scan™?

ANDREA: Yeah.

CHARISSA: (jaw drops) Like, you're not pregnant you dweeb! Preg-a-Test™ gives you a happy-face if you're pregnant! Pregna-Scan™ gives you the plus-signal.

ANDREA: (amazed) You mean ... you mean I'm NOT pregnant?

SCOTT: (muttering) I am so gone ...

(He begins to climb a fire escape which is right behind him.)

AMY: Just a minute, buster!

(She produces a lasso and catches Scott around the waist. A hard tug sends him crashing to his back on the concrete. She leans over him, placing a foot on his throat.)

AMY: You're under arrest for practicing medicine without a license.

(She turns to Andrea, tears filling her eyes.)

AMY: Oh, Andrea! I'm so happy! And I'm so proud of you!

ANDREA: (confused) For what?

AMY: For just being you! A capable, intelligent teen who's capable of making her own decisions!

ANDREA: Aw ...

AMY: I love you, Andrea!

ANDREA: I love you too, Mom!

(They embrace.)

(cut to:)

(A large crowd stands around a large platform, on which stands Mayor Danzinger and Principal Tingle. Amy, Andrea, Rita, Ruth and Kristovo are together in the crowd. Tingle steps up to the microphone.)

TINGLE: Welcome everyone! It gives me great pleasure to lay this sexual education dispute to rest once and for all. Recent events have shown us that it obviously doesn't do our children any good to keep them in the dark. They'll just get into all sorts of dangerous hijinks wandering in the dark without the benefit of the torch of our knowledge. On the other hand, we want our children to be aware of the serious moral, psychological ramifications. So it gives me great pleasure to introduce our new Sexual Education teacher! Let's give him a big hand!

(Tingle steps aside as Danzinger ushers the grinning Minister onto the stage.)

DANZINGER: (loud whisper) You aren't Catholic, are you?

MINISTER: (humble grin) Ah'm a minister, not a priest.

DANZINGER: Huzzah!

CROWD: Hurray!

(There is scattered applause as everyone shakes everyone's hand.)

(Cut to:)

(Amy and her family.)

AMY: We should celebrate! (grins at Andrea) How about pickles and ice-cream? ;>

ANDREA: Um ... what was that?

AMY: It was a joke. Y'know, how pregnant women get cravings ...

ANDREA: No ... I mean that thing you did with your face.

AMY: What, this? ;>

ANDREA: Yeah! What the hell was that?

AMY: It was a wink! And a smile, to show you I wasn't being serious.

ANDREA: That was a smile? Looked more like a bird-face. This is a smile. :)

AMY: You've got to be kidding. It's ;>

ANDREA: No, :)

AMY: ;>

ANDREA: :)

KRISTOVO: >:-(

AMY: Oh, all right. We'll stop. Now let's go find an ice-cream parlor! ;>

(They all laugh, and walk off together down the street.)

I was first exposed to the work of Alan Smithee when I was watching the sci-fi channel, and his remake of David Lynch's second-rate film Dune came on. I was blown away by the depth and artistry Alan had shown, even as he reshaped and gave knew life to the work of that bloated, overrated hack! So I did some research. Turns out this guy's been around FOREVER! He's a titan in the cinema! You should see how many quality pictures from fifty, sixty years back got this guy's name on 'em! This is the visionary who colorized Casablanca! This is the man who invented the romantic slasher biopic genre! (find the entire catalogue at www.chicksnchainsaws.com I knew I had to work with him. But how do you approach a genius? Well, they say great minds think alike. He came to me.

After a brief stint adapting original dramatic plays based on improv monologues by the Olsen twins, I'd begun dabbling in television. I bounced around from genre to genre, writing failed pilot after failed pilot. Then I hit it big, with an animated series based on the Porky's film franchise, which was a runaway hit in my native Northern Sweden. For several years, I was riding high -- I even got a grammy nomination!*

It was my unfortunately short-lived series Top Banana, which starred John Travolta as an streetwise organ-grinder who gets drafted into Vietnam, that first caught Alan's attention. The show featured an all-star supporting cast that included the now-legendary Kate Mulgrew as the native medicine woman/love interest. Unfortunately, not even Bill Murray's moving and dramatic portrayal of Richard Nixon could save the ratings. I can only conclude that the subject matter was ahead of its time. But it wasn't all in vain: Alan Smithee saw it. And then he called me. We began working together for a while, then drifted apart as he moved on to other things. But then he got the call from MTV, and he needed help.

I was honored and delighted to join the Abruptly Amy crew. Alan and I both agreed that the characters and situations had the potential for some really deep, insightful drama. With that in mind, he set me to work preparing an episode that would shed some light on the tough issues today's teenage girls face. I knew lots of teenage girls in high school, and I used to know some women, so I was uniquely qualified to tell this tale. I won't be modest ... if we haven't hooked a solid fan base before this episode airs, we will now.

Alan Smithee and me. What a concept!

* King John 1985, best use of a fart sound-effect in a made-for-TV Shakespeare film

Wow. Wow! When media consultant and fellow Daria author Kara Wild recruited me to work on the Lifetime Network's new show "Abruptly Amy," I never expected this! This ... this ... this was beyond hell.

Not that I blame Kara, mind you! I need all the work I can get! Still, the little alarms should have gone off when I saw that I would be working for Alan Smithee. I've viewed Smithee with a skeptical - and slightly fearful - stare since I first saw his name in front of David Lynch's flawed but adequate film Dune on the Sci-Fi network. What warped mind could produce such mind-blowingly misguided works?

I found out. I never expected collaboration to be easy, but let's just say that Mr. Tokji was about as pleasant to work with as a dyspeptic porcupine. What really shocked me was the minimal level of creative control I was allowed. Tokji had produced an absolutely HORRIBLE script! Aiming to be heartfelt and dramatic, it was, rather, offensively bad. I had no idea how to salvage it, and even if I had I wouldn't have been allowed to act. The title for example. BLEARGHH!!! What in the name of all things holy is a undigestible pun like that doing at the beginning of anything!? In all my years, I have yet to see a WORSE way to kick off a work of fiction. And it got worse. Tokji evidently has no concept of gender in America ... or anywhere else! Not to mention those ridiculous subplots ... Unfortunately, Smithee loved Tokji's thinking, and Smithee trumps Takis. At least, if Takis wants his paycheck. And after going through *that*, trust me - he does!

The one bright spot in this whole sordid affair was Andrea. What an actress! What commitment! She was determined to take this out-of-character swill and attempt to make it meaningful for any of her fellow teens that might be watching! What a trooper. Compared to me, her patience was infinite. She even did a nude scene with Jesse! Well, that is to say he was nude. We told him he could wear boxers! That we wouldn't see him from the waist down! Oh how we begged and implored him to remember that he only needed to take off his vest. But NO! Mr. Prima-Donna Moreno had to be IN-CHARACTER! (shudder) My eyes still bleed...

Yeah, Andrea really came through on this one. I was ready to fight to scrap it permanently except for the effort she'd made. Let that console you as you attempt to comprehend the sheer badness of this episode. I won't even mention the massively troubled production of the episode. Let's just say that the process of putting the film together ran until minutes before the episode aired (several weeks late!) with no time for re-editing. This is partially because I was delaying until the last possible second attempting to tweak the script with desperately-infused irony (notice my lack of author credit ... that was MY idea), and partly because the art department was still only working from storyboards and not dialogue. Well ... I called them storyboards. Minderbender called them stick-figures hastily scrawled onto the backs of "Hooters" napkins. (Well he was there! And he owes Mike a shirt.)

Anyway, I'm just glad the whole hairy mess is behind me!

Except ... the phone just started ringing ... and I'm trying to remember just how many episodes that contract I signed allowed for ...

Anyone have a good tranquilizer gun I can borrow?

In all seriousness, working on A.A. was a blast! I was so honored to be invited to join the team, and the whole experience was a lot of fun. It was a real challenge, though! Here was something new ... old characters and new characters, but with a fresh new twist, and operating in an entirely different vein of parody. Kara has always been able to impress me, and it was wonderful getting the chance to contribute.

My task was made easier by the army of helpful and supportive fellow contributors in the persons of C.E., Crazy, Mike, Milo, John B and Kara herself. Building and maintaining a semblance of continuity wasn't easy, but I think they did a terrific job. I had some great material to work with, and some great people behind it.

As for the episode itself, I knew from the beginning that I wanted to do a "controversy" episode. My idea was that the producers wanted to make a "very special episode" that took a sensitive and complex issue and portrayed it in a sensitive and insightful light ... and failed miserably. Hence the virtually eroded morality and internal contradictions. Chalk it up to irony, because if you take it seriously, you'll be offended. Which was my goal, of course: to offend as many people as possible. ;-) Your only defense is to submit!

One alternate idea I had was to do a "Full House" type family values episode, which would have featured a visit from Quinn creating jealousy between Andrea and Amy. But the "faux-controversy" idea was just too tempting to resist, and my co-collaborators agreed.

And now, some miscellaneous tidbits:

* I hope you caught the subtle ribbing of Mistress Wild in the "Math Brigade" reference and the ;> sequence.

* My personal favorite line was the one about "It's a High School ... it's not like they're going to come out shooting." Believe it or not, the sick irony of this line didn't occur to me until after I'd written it.

* The cameo of the "Minister-not-a-Priest" is funnier if you've seen "I Don't" and know his face and voice.

* Does anyone know the REAL name for those enormous car-carrying trucks?

Anyway, it's been a long strange trip. But it's also been a lot of fun. Once again, special thanks to Kara for being so patient and supportive. I really appreciated the chance to be a part of this. And thanks in advance to Milo, whom I'm sure will create some knock-out "screen shots." :-) Thanks again, guys, all of you. It's been swell.

And to you the reader: I hope you enjoyed it. Whether you loved to hate it or just plain hated it, I've done my job. :-) Thanks.

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