EXT. CEMETERY - DAY

The sun shines over a mid-afternoon cemetary where a group of mourners have gathered for a funeral. The black-clad crowd surrounds the square hole where the coffin is about to be lowered. A priest begins the invocation as the mourners stand quietly or shift uncomfortably among the light, muffled SOBS.

Among these is the family: two women and two teenage children. The younger, female sibling is MARNEY T. FRIDAY (15). She holds a notebook and a pen and is scribbling fiercely between quick glances around the crowd. As she puts pen to paper, we see what she’s writing: "Mrs. Simpson seems TOO sad. Wearing black dress and high top sneakers. Conclusion: she’s acting." One of the women ahead of Marney, her aunt BEATRICE (38), turns back to see that Marney is writing. Angry, she snatches the notebook from Marney. They share a look of mutual contempt. After a second, Marney looks around, perceives that no one is watching her, bends over and removes another notebook from beneath her skirt, tucked into the waistband of her tights along her hip. She returns to writing.

The coffin starts to descend. Marney pauses only briefly.

Beside Beatrice, Mareny’s mother KAREN (41) starts CRYING more heavily. Beatrice pulls her in close and Karen puts her head into Beatrice’s shoulder. Marney watches them both and starts to reach toward her mother. She thinks better of it and goes back to scribbling in the notebook.

EXT. CEMETERY PARKING LOT - CONTINUOUS

Walking to the car, Marney lags behind her family. She turns around as they go and watches the mourners dispersing. Clouds have gathered and it starts raining. Everyone hustles but Marney just tucks the notebook under her arm and watches.

BEATRICE (O.S.)

Marney! Let’s go!

Reluctantly, Marney turns away from the exposition and returns, now soaked, to the car.

I/E. FRIDAY FAMILY CAR - CONTINUOUS

Everyone is quiet and reflective. Marney leans her head against the window and watches life happening as the car rolls through her town. We see: People hustling to pack up a few fruit carts and bring them back into a grocery store. A woman with an umbrella carrying her tiny dog under her arm like a football. A paper boy, unfazed by rain, making his deliveries. Kids playing in the downpour as their mother stands in the doorway of their house screaming at them. A dad and his daughter enjoying the rain, jumping in puddles. This last scene hangs for Marney. She opens her notebook and writes, above all her previous notes, as a header: "Dad’s Funeral - April 18, 2010." She stares at the page for a moment, then snaps the notebook shut.

CUT TO BLACK.

FADE IN:

INT. FRIDAY HOUSE HALLWAY - DAY

A door, unadorned by decorations except a single, small red sign: "TRESPASSERS WILL BE SHOT." A hand on the knob. It opens on:

INT. MARNEY’S ROOM - CONTINUOUS

A disaster area that once was a bedroom. Every scrap of wall space is covered by corkboards. What’s not made of cork is awash with overlapping scraps of paper, photos, maps. Marney steps into the room - it was her hand on the knob - and steps up to the corkboard. She finds a spot with the header "April 18, 2010" and takes a note card from the desk. On it she writes, "Notebook 511," which corresponds to the front of the notebook she’s carrying. Below that, she writes "p 18-32." Then she walks to a huge shelf that goes from floor to ceiling. She finds the place where Notebook 511 fits and replaces it among the catalogue of hundreds of others just like it. A KNOCK interrupts her and Marney turns. Her brother, JIM (18), is standing in the doorway.

JIM

You okay?

MARNEY

You okay?

JIM

Well, you know. Dad’s funeral and all. Are any of us okay? But then again, you could extend that to the state of the world - with everything that’s going on, all the death and sadness, is anyone, anywhere, okay? Can we ever be okay again?

MARNEY

I meant the--

She puts two fingers pinched against her thumb to her mouth, signifying smoking pot.

JIM

(laughs)

Oh, you saw that, huh?

MARNEY

I saw the Game Boy, too.

CUT TO:

EXT. CEMETERY - DAY

Earlier that day. During the service, Marney sits beside her Karen on one side, Jim on the other. Jim’s jacket is spread over his lap, but he’s looking down. At first it looks as if he’s praying. Marney shifts and sees what’s really there - Jim is intently, silently tapping away at a Game Boy.

JIM (V.O.)

We all have our ways of coping, I guess.

As Marney leans back and carefully slips out her notebook to scribble in it about him, his eyes dart over slightly.

JIM (V.O.)

I saw the notebook.

Marney catches Jim noticing her writing and quickly hides the book. Her faces registers a touch of embarrassment - or shame.

CUT TO:

INT. MARNEY’S ROOM - CONTINUOUS

Back to Marney’s bedroom where Jim is still standing in the doorway and Marney is seated on the bed.

JIM

I’m glad you were able to get my exploits logged for your little fire hazard here.

He pulls a pack of cigarettes and lights one.

JIM

Speaking of fire.

Abruptly, from somewhere distant in the house, Beatrice SHOUTING:

BEATRICE (O.S.)

Jim! Are you smoking in the house!

JIM

Shit.

He quickly puts the cigarette out on the sole of his shoe and pockets it.

JIM

No, Aunt Beatrice. No smoking in the house.

BEATRICE (O.S.)

Damn right.

JIM

(sighing)

No free expression in the police state, huh.

MARNEY

It’s gross anyway.

JIM

Yeah, but giving the big F-U to your own lungs is what makes it so damn cool.

MARNEY

Feel like doing an interview?

Jim grins. He gestures at the window behind Marney’s bed.

JIM

Sure. Open that.

He closes the door and crosses to the bed, relighting the cigarette along the way as Marney opens the window. He grabs an empty pop can from a nearby night stand to use as an ashtray. Meanwhile, Marney grabs a notebook from a nearby drawer, marked "Interviews, April 12-20, 2010." She flips it open and scribbles down, "Jim. April 18, 2010. After funeral." Jim takes a moment to situate himself on the bed. He carefully removes his shoes and tucks his knees up to his chest, cigarette dangling from his lips, emulating a position typical of teenage girls, his arms wrapped around his shins. When he’s sufficiently comfortable, he focuses his full attention to Marney.

JIM

Begin.

MARNEY

(writing)

Gimme a few quotes for background. What’s today? What have you done today?

JIM

(taking a drag)

Ah. Well, it’s April 18th, Two-Thousand and Ten Years into the Common Era, and today we celebrated the life of my father, Hal Friday, who died suddenly of a heart attack four days ago while running on the track at Carson Middle School at approximately 6:30 p.m. Eastern Standard Time.

MARNEY

Where was the funeral?

JIM

Ascher Cemetery about two miles from our house.

MARNEY

What’d you do there?

JIM

(laughing)

Beyond watch my dad get lowered into the ground? Well, I got baked

JIM (CONT’D)

so as to not start weeping like a child, on account of I doubt Mom could handle it. And now I’m here checking on you.

MARNEY

And how do you feel? About the funeral. About Dad. Jim becomes more sullen. His tone drops.

JIM

Well, Miss Reporter Lady, I feel pretty shitty about it. Pretty fucking awful. I think I’m in that stage of grief where I’m about to go start engaging in self-destructive, guilty behavior.

MARNEY

Why guilty?

CUT TO:

INT. FRIDAY HOUSE KITCHEN - DAY

Jim and his father, HAL (44), are having an argument in the kitchen six days ago. There is no sound. The quoted portions of Jim’s interview voice over sync up with his shouting at Hal.

JIM (V.O.)

The second to last thing I said to him was, "Dad, I don’t want to spend my life as some sad-faced office drone."

Marney is standing around the corner, just outside of the kitchen, listening and writing in her notebook.

MARNEY (V.O.)

What was the last thing you said to him?

From over Marney’s shoulder, she watches as Jim shouts his next at Hal.

JIM (V.O.)

"Like you."

Jim storms out of the kitchen, blowing past Marney, who pulls back around the corner and out of his way.

CUT TO:

INT. MARNEY’S ROOM - CONTINUOUS

JIM

But you already knew that.

MARNEY

How do you feel about Dad being gone, since you said that to him?

Jim unfolds his legs, sucking hard on the cigarette. He leans forward, staring at Marney, who hasn’t looked him in the eye for most of the interview.

JIM

Has anyone asked you how you feel, Marney?

Marney is scribbling his question into her notebook automatically before what he says registers with her. She stops abruptly and looks up at him. Jim just watches her. After a second, she snaps the notebook shut.

MARNEY

I need to go see the Hometown editor.

She replaces the notebook where she found it, grabs another from the drawer, and leaves Jim sitting on her bed with the cigarette, watching her go.