Daybreak (2019) s01e03 Episode Script

1 Little help.
No.
No! That's my knuckle sandwich! Give it back! Give me back my breakfast, you thief! Things are mutating fast down here.
If you stop and look around, you might get eaten.
Hey! Uh, hey.
Um Can you tell Wesley Never mind, you're too nuts to remember anyway.
I'll tell Wesley.
Uh, "Guh, never mind, you're too nuts to remember anyway.
" Wesley, "Guh, never mind, you're too nuts to remember anyway.
" What do you think you're doing? You're finger looks like Tom Sizemore's dick.
Yeah, I lost some blood, and the gangrene is spreading, but I'm fine.
I'm fine.
The truest warrior knows when to hold 'em and when to fold 'em.
Guys, look, I'm fine.
Okay? Sam is still out there somewhere, and I have to Mm.
You are taking a day off.
So I bet all of you thought this was just Josh's story, the cis white male guiding you through the end of the world.
TV testing says people like a warm gravity blanket of familiarity, so they can second-screen their Insta feed.
But I say let's fuck some shit up! This is my story now.
I'm throwing kerosene on this motha' and scorching conformity to ash.
I don't do this breaking-the-fourth-wall bullshit.
My jam is Clockwork Orange, Apocalypse Now, and the Marty Scorsese classic tale of violence and loyalty, Goodfellas.
So we're switching to my voice over right now.
I'm a highly unstable genius.
I was solving fractal dimensions of Mandelbrot sets while I was still pooping myself in Dora Pull-Ups.
But as far back as I can remember, I always wanted to be a gangsta.
My parents treated me like a precious teacup locked up in a glass case.
But homeschooling was like doing time on a remote island penal colony.
A different guard every hour making me break rocks in a mental quarry.
I had zero friends.
My parents wanted me to be the next Rosalind Franklin, the chemistry queen who actually discovered DNA.
But she had two douche-b's mansplain away her Nobel Prize.
Not me.
I wanted to be Griselda Blanco, the Cocaine Cowgirl of the Medellín Cartel, because a gangsta is surrounded by a mob, a true family, and a genius is all fucking alone.
I have hallucinations.
I had a three-part plan to make myself into an ice-cold crime lord.
Step one: get the product.
I knew setting my curtains on fire would earn me a trip to my psychiatrist, Dr.
"Has-No-Idea-I'm-Manipulating- His-Yale-Educated-Ass.
" I lie about my anxiety, and I get Ritalin.
Depression: Prozac.
Pain: Vicodin.
Sleep: Klonopin.
Watch this move.
I saw a dead cat One tear and I felt nothing.
nets me one month of Adderall.
Step two: cut the product.
Griselda Blanco had a lingerie factory so mules could smuggle cocaine in their cooch.
I had slime.
Kids are losing their shit making and selling slime.
It was the perfect front for a ten-year-old cutie-pie like me: edible slime.
I came up with adorbs code names to push my product.
Zany Zucchini is Xanax.
Life's Lemons is Lexapro.
I posted a DIY video to YouTube, and I was officially open for business.
So take it from me, guys.
"Slimer: Don't feel your feelings.
Just eat them.
" Step three: distribute the product.
In no time, I was the Slime Queenpin of the San Gabriel Valley.
Nothing and no one was going to stop me.
The selling of slime and/or slime-related products has been banned on campus, young scholar.
Are you even a student here? Of course, I did my research on Burr.
I was prepared for anything.
This is a fundraiser to abdicate for a sustainable ag.
All of my slime is made with local phytoplankton.
Oh, really? This is for you.
Chocolate Surprise.
Oh Well I do like phytoplankton.
Tight.
Best part: I put Visine in his slime.
He's gonna shart his BVDs all day.
This is why I want to be a gangsta, to be part of a family by choice, a tribe who accepts me for who I am.
A tribe that is there for you, that protects you no matter what.
Uh No.
Listen up, piss midget.
The Target on your side has a pharmacy.
We need those antibiotics, or Josh will die.
Saving a human life is the highest form of karmic reward, Eli.
Karma was my cousin Mia's stripper name, and now she's a puddle of skin on Central Avenue.
- Karma is dead.
- Do you want Josh to die? I want my fucking mall back.
You heathens are trespassing, but if you leave, I'll dose you some of my pharma to save Josh.
So you have antibiotics? Well, no, but I have other stuff that could help.
Ice packs, Luna bars.
Good ones.
No lemon bullshit.
I'll trade you for some lotion.
Lotion? You should have plenty.
Mavis and I used it all.
I think Mavis is a mannequin.
Ew! Lotion for what? The sex? No! Mavis and I are saving ourselves until marriage.
Until then, we're taking practice shots.
Scrubbing potatoes, Flogging Molly, Spotifying, Defense Against the Dark Arts, going down to Palm Springs, getting a salmon head Come on, just give me one squirt of that cucumber melon ointment.
I don't negotiate with terrorists.
Come on, Wesley.
Let's find the drugs somehow somewhere else.
Hey I know your secret sauce, and it ain't tzatziki.
You don't know dick about shit.
I know you are going to get me my lotion.
- I'm whitemailing your ass.
- Don't you mean blackmail? I'm reclaiming the word.
White is the total of all color.
You and me are brothers, brother.
I told Wesley, "Guh, never mind, you're too nuts to remember anyway.
" Okay.
- You look upset.
- I'm hungry.
- I think I saw a panini maker - I want something more substantial.
I was gonna eat your finger, but then a bird stole it, stole my breakfast, the most important meal of the day, and I'm still so very, very so very, very, very so very, very, very ravenous! No! Stop! Stop, stop! - This is gonna be for the best.
- No, no, no! Stop! Stop, stop! Do you think it's okay that we left Josh all alone with the Witch? Ms.
Crumble had the chance to eat Josh's whole arm and didn't.
She's harmless, mostly.
All right.
Slow down.
I'm fine.
And we're racing against death.
We have to get those antibiotics.
And since you're too chickenshit to get behind the wheel, I'm driving.
I didn't need a license when we had Uber and killer bud.
I'm going to Victor's Pharmacy.
The Rite Aid on Brand is closer.
No go.
That's Yung Kopps' turf.
The CVS on York.
4-H Club territory.
- The CVS on Central? - Cheermazons.
The CVS on San Fernando.
The Disciples of Kardashia will flay our skin to make throw pillows.
How do you know about all these tribes? - Used to hang with them.
- Which ones? The Disciples? The Disciples, Kopps, 4-H.
That's a lot of tribes.
Also, did some time with the Porto Bakery Boyz and a hot minute with the Highland Park Donut Hos.
Those are some crazy bitches.
Damn, girl! You get around! Why don't you just stay put? I could tell Wesley the truth, how they rejected me, how it hurt, but that would require what my dead psychiatrist, Dr.
"What-Can-A-Forty-Year-Old-Dude- Know-About-Girls" called radical self-acceptance.
Maybe, it would make me feel better to open up, share.
Sharing is caring, but I don't give a rat's dick.
What about you? Aren't you the shiny star of Glendale High? Shouldn't you be with the Jocks? I was.
I left.
I left because because Turbo is fucking insane.
Principal Burr, you have a kind and compassionate heart.
Oh, well, thank you.
That's all the cardio.
Mona, Mona, hi.
I just wanted to tell you, um, you have the best tits, like, fearless cleavage.
You're a femme future leader.
If you're making fun of me, Sam Dean, I swear I'll gas-pedal your box.
You wanna know what I love about you, Josh Wheeler? You wanna know what I love about you, Josh Wheeler? know what I love about you, Josh Wheeler? Turbo! Turbo! Turbo! Turbo! The game is on the line.
League championship.
Fifteen seconds left.
Turbo Pokaski has the weight of the team on his shoulders.
He gets the ball, he fades back to the 50.
Ten seconds left.
The South Pass line goes after him.
Turbo evades one tackle, breaks another.
He leaves the pocket and scrambles.
He lets the ball fly! It's above down the left sideline! He hands to Brinker at three! A perfect pass! Brinker falls into the end zone! Glendale wins! Glendale wins the championship! It is all Turbo.
Turbo Pokaski does it again! We are not the villains.
We are the heroes keeping you safe from those who would do you harm, my brothers.
But you STEM Punks up and bit the hand that fed you.
Now, you gotta heel.
Hurry the fuck up, Slowen.
Hey, yo, pick up the pace, Slowen.
No pinny left behind, Slowen.
- Slow-ass Owen! - Slow-motion Owen! Slow-growin' Owen.
I don't get that.
- You know, 'cause his dick can't get hard.
- Whoa, that's sexual harassment, bro.
- We don't do that anymore.
- Ow! Everyone gets a color.
Blues, you're the kitchen scuts.
Yellows, Ghoulie wranglers for American Ninja Idol.
Reds, you're spike brigade.
What's spike brigade? Am I going deaf? Did I just hear myself ask for stupid motherfucking questions? You'll see tonight.
Move! Turbo has another job for you, beautiful.
Something special.
I'll get the antibiotics.
You grab all the gummy bears you can carry.
The acid in that shit rots teeth.
Josh can't swallow, we can't hook up an IV, so I have to crush the pills into edible slime.
Some girl used to do that at our school.
Sounds like she was a boss.
I heard she was socio-pathetic.
Just do your job.
I was only six years old when I made my very first bomb.
I blew up my talking teddy bear.
His name was Mr.
Bearman.
He said he loved me, said we were besties.
But then I wondered, what does this bear say when I'm not around? Did he talk shit? Did he rat me out to my parents? Snitches get stitches, and talking bears get blown up.
Dr.
"Can't-Stop-His-Own-Husband- From-Having-An-Affair" said I suffered from paranoid personality disorder.
He said I test people because I don't think anyone really likes me but I just like making shit 'splode.
Guys, I need your help.
I am so hungry, but everything I eat tastes like a yeast infection and cilantro, except for blood.
Blood tastes really good.
Yes, Stacy, I am wearing a new shade of dirt, but can we just focus on the issues at hand, please? What? What's that, Tracy? Kill Josh? No, I couldn't.
No.
Could I? No, it would be wrong.
Maybe just a taste, though? Stacy.
Yes, I know, I have zero self-control.
Yes, we all remember the Almond Roca incident, but I do like blood, Tracy.
No.
No.
I also don't like murder.
What do you think, Alejandro? You've been very quiet.
What? Are you so disgusted that you can't even look at me? What are you staring at? You're a genius.
Thank you.
Listen up, maggots.
Roll call.
Matthew.
Morgan.
Micah.
Michelle.
Mason.
Martin.
Max.
Maximilian.
Maxwell.
Maya.
Madison.
Maisie.
Murray.
Matilda.
Melanie.
Melania.
Maritza.
Marco.
Mordecai.
Melicia.
Megan.
Molly.
Millie.
Muji.
Malia.
And Sasha.
All present.
Wakey, wakey, tofu eggs and bakey.
- Hello, lover.
- Uh-uh.
Yes.
Uh-uh! It's time to eat up, Josh.
It's time to eat you up, Josh.
Yeah.
Wesley, I found some gummies.
Lotion.
You probably want to know about the lotion.
- Oh, God, my car - Ghoulies.
They must've heard the bang.
I need bathroom.
Oh, God They're everywhere.
If I'm going down, I'm going down in a blaze.
Did someone just save us? Stop smoking rainbows.
No, they want our shit, and we're not gonna give it up.
Is it LaCroy, or is it LaCroix? Is it LaCroy Cheermazons.
Tight.
You remember Demi.
We have a history.
Days into my reign as queenpin, and I was one of the most popular girls in a school I didn't even go to.
Only Sam Dean was more popular.
Her thirst trap video went viral and made her an instant influencer.
But I had influence of my own.
Everyone ate my ooze.
From Fortnite gamers who wanted Fioricet to roid-cases who needed untraceable HGH.
But I had my people.
They respected me.
I was their squad mother.
Hey, Demi.
It's pronounced Demi.
Isn't that what I said? You said Demi.
- Demi.
- No.
- Demi.
- Say it like I say it.
- I am.
- Demi.
- Demi.
- Demi.
- Demi.
- Demi.
Demi.
Don't you hate it when your drug dealer tries to make it social? Maybe Dr.
"Does-Have-Some- Interesting-Observations" is right.
Maybe I am paranoid.
Maybe I test people.
But it's not my fault they fail.
Hey, Slimer.
'Sup, Wes? - Demi.
- WTF? That's exactly how I said it.
You look good, girl.
I don't dress for you.
I dress for myself.
I dress for comfort.
I dress for the occasion.
And the occasion is revenge.
You and I don't have any beef.
We've been fighting a forever war.
In 6,000 years of history, women could only vote for the last hundred.
Women make up half of America, and we never elected a female President.
Men fucked the world like it was a Tinder hookup.
And now, women are gonna swipe left.
So you're gonna kill all the men? #time-is-really-motherfucking-up Don't! - I'm not gonna let you kill him.
- We'll have words later, sister.
- You don't have to do this, Angelica.
- Yes, I do.
You're gonna mess around and get killed too.
- No! - I can't hold my arm much longer.
Then you'll just have to shoot me.
We don't kill our own kind.
Move.
No! Wesley is woke, gay, and black.
He's just as marginalized as all of you.
He's a Jock.
Do you know what Turbo's doing? He's rounding up kids.
- Wesley is not with them.
- But he was.
He's a samurai now, with an honor code.
A pacifist who won't even off a Ghoulie.
He's risking everything just to save our friend, Josh.
- Tennis Josh? - No.
- Little Josh with the big truck? - No.
- Gay Josh or Other Gay Josh? - Just Josh! Okay? We have antibiotics.
He needs us.
We're all he has.
LaCroy? Or LaCroix? The pyramid is the Cheermazon emblem.
It's a symbol of balance and strength.
Each side supports the other.
I welcome you to pledge our tribe.
You want me to join the Cheermazons? You won't be joining anything yet.
First, you have to survive the gauntlet.
Only the strongest and smartest girls can pass our initiation trials.
This is everything I want.
A mafia.
A family that is together by choice, that has each other's backs, that wears killer matching outfits, but aren't too matchy-matchy, which is honestly really hard to pull off.
The antibiotics? Josh? Wesley can take the drugs to Just Josh, but you can stay with us.
The choice is yours, little sister.
What Why exactly am I dressed like this? I know you guys have American Ninja Idol, but we're playing Survivor.
What am I doing here? Stand on the X.
Read the lines.
Easy peasy lemon squeezy.
Do your job, do it well, you can be a part of the family.
Why do they call you Mona Lisa? Because I smile all the time.
"Hey, Champ.
" Uh "No love is greater than that of a father for his son.
Dan Brown.
" Am I supposed to be your dad? Is your dad Indiana Jones? Read the lines! Uh "Don't give up on your dreams, or your dreams will give up on you.
" If, uh "If life doesn't challenge you, then it won't change you.
" "Players with fight never lose a game.
They just run out of time.
" These are all like motivational sports posters.
I believe it was Kierkegaard who said "Just do it.
Just do it.
" "Your only limit is you.
" Hey.
Hey, I miss my dad too.
I heard some of you guys talking about how you lost a fight.
That kid named Josh.
I know that hurts, but, um Come on, you were all-time, man.
Uh I remember that game against South Pass.
Busted out of those three sacks and still threw a perfect bomb to Brinker.
Even when everything was stacked against you, you hunkered down, and you won.
You can still win.
I I bet your dad was proud of you then.
I'm sure he'd be proud of you now.
And the man you've become.
He'd be so proud, man.
A leader.
He'd be so proud.
Come on.
Come on.
It's okay.
It's okay.
- Drop him.
- Wait, what? Spike brigade! Pretty please with sugar on top Baby, give me that love you've got Keep it comin' girl, good and hot I don't want you to ever stop Thanks for driving.
Thanks for saving my life.
Why didn't you go with the Cheermazons? It'd be a good fit.
I know you wanted to.
Why'd you take the lotion for Eli? Eli's not all terrible.
We've all done some stupid shit to survive.
I'm just trying to keep the peace.
You're a good man, Charlie Brown.
You're not answering the question.
Why didn't you go with Demi? The answer is simple.
Hey.
You're in deep.
I've done worse.
Well, hey, Josh.
You know this girl? Angelica? Yeah, she sucks.
Oh, now, Josh.
Words matter.
We can't be complicit in a blame cycle.
I've witnessed all kinds of shenanigans over the years, but I like to think of students as wildflowers.
Each one is is beautiful and unique, but but like their names Excuse me.
You put Visine in his slime? - It worked on you.
- It's literally attempted murder.
Principal Burr won't press charges.
He'll see this as an educational opportunity.
So will my parents, and my tutors, and my therapist.
Look, being homeschooled sucks.
You want to go to a real school, you want a friend.
I know.
I Trust me, I get it.
But there are better ways to make friends than being Pablo Escobar.
Griselda Blanco.
Oh, God, you really are terrible.
Thanks.
But you're also interesting and weird.
Good weird.
You know worth-it weird.
I think you should just let people see that.
Bye, Angelica.
Hey! Of course, I'm paranoid about what people think of me.
That doesn't make me have a personality disorder.
It makes me a ten-year-old girl.
Everyone wants to be someone who is liked, admired, loved.
I test people.
I push people because I want to see who will push back.
I didn't go with the Cheermazons because I want to stay with Josh.
Josh hates you.
I know that.
Are you crushing? - Ew, no! - Angelica! I'm trying to make something here.
Our own tribe! We have zero in common.
But we could be so much stronger than the Jocks or the Cheermazons.
My smarts, your moral compass, Josh's survival skills.
Brain, soul, heart.
We could be so good together.
How many gangs booted you? All of them? You're not a team player.
But I'm trying to be.
Real talk, either A: Josh is going to die of an infection, OR B: we save him, and he leaves to go find Sam.
Where did you get that? I made it on my 3D printer.
I wanted to be Sam.
I even wore my hair like her.
I watched her video 20 times.
I wished people looked at me the way they looked at her.
Everybody loves Sam.
Everybody loves Sam.
You didn't eat me.
I am eating you.
My little maggot friends consumed the bacteria around your finger and stopped the infection from spreading, and now, I am eating the necrotic tissue inside the larvae.
Oh, yeah, tastes like Josh.
You tied me up so I wouldn't hurt myself.
To help.
I was planning on consuming you and then I decided nah.
Well, you still saved my life.
Oh, no, the maggots did most of the work.
Oh, sorry, buddy.
And the other two.
Marsha, Marsha, Marsha.
Hey, what flavor is this, anyway? Antibiotic Apple or, uh Triage Truffle? They call it "Josh-Cut-Off-His-Finger- Because-He-Sucks-Dick Berry.
" What's going on? Are you crying? We found her body on the way back.
Show me.
Sam.
Sam.
Okay, don't get weepy.
That's not Sam.
I'm lying.
It's what I do best.
I had to make Josh stay at the mall.
I came up with a three-part plan.
Stop the car.
Part one: find dead body.
Part two: make body look like Sam.
Are you crying? Part three: lie your ass off.
Could I have come up with a better plan to get Josh to stay? Fuck no.
This is my jam.
I'm brilliant at manipulating, blowing shit up, gangsta.
It's easy to destroy things.
It's harder to put things together.
We're all searching for our tribe, searching to connect with someone.
Searching to connect with anyone.
This is what being in the mafia was all about.
The mafia will do anything, anything for their family.
They'll do whatever it takes to protect the people they love.
I am a terrible little shit.
I know.
But if I didn't do this, Josh would leave and get killed.
I did this to save my friend, to keep him safe, to keep us safe so that we could be a tribe.