Not Dead Yet (2023) s01e03 Episode Script

Not Out of High School Yet

Oh, my God, did you see the calves
on the new Sparkletts guy?
I snuck a picture and I've
already sent it to you.
You are such a good friend.
I know. Thank you.
Okay, so, how's the wedding?
Oh, there is a poppy
seed on the groom's side.
- Yeah, it's right
- Some people say
that we're too close,
but I I don't get it.
- It's too deep.
- Alright.
- I will see you at lunch.
- Bye.
Oh, no.
Eww. Floss much?
Nell? Nell Serrano?
- Piper Ashford.
- Mm.
We were the same age.
Yeah, except you got old.
- And you died.
- I know.
Super sadsies.
So is this where you work?
Is this, like, a factory of some kind?
It's a newsroom.
News is kind of like TikTok,
but for people who can read.
I love your tiny little cubby.
It's kind of like the teachers' lounge
that you used to eat lunch in.
Howdy, Ace.
I'm sorry. I'm trying out new greetings.
It's a work in progress.
Of course you're
friends with this goober.
Anyway, I was wondering
if you got my e-mail
about the influencer.
Actually, I went to high school with her.
Do you happen to know how she died?
That's not important.
It's super tragic.
She was taking a selfie
and she fell off a cliff.
- Oh, that is so perfect.
- Yeah, it was.
I managed to post it on the way down.
I'm worried this job is
making you callous, Nell.
No, you don't understand.
Piper was a nightmare.
She was cruel and shallow
and conceited and
seems like she still is.
Since the two of you
knew each other, go ahead
and take more time with
this if you need to.
Oh. Oh, no.
Oh, no, no, no, no, no.
- I'll be done with this one real soon.
- Real soon.
Okay, so, here we go.
This is what we call
a "cursory obituary."
- It's, uh, superficial, just like you.
- Hmm?
And it's just a few brief sentences
in the back of the paper
right next to the denture ads,
- because that is all you deserve.
- Rude!
And I don't want to spend
any more time with you, so
- Same, here, bit
- Boom!
Ha ha. Ha ha.
Oh, you have a little
poppy seed in your teeth.
Oh. Yeah.
- May I?
- No, Tina!
- What?
- You cannot put your fingers in my mouth.
You can put your fingers in my mouth.
I don't want to put my
fingers in your mouth.
Ugh, I hate when Ben packs
me chickpeas for lunch.
- Sammy?
- Hmm?
- Trade you for your burger.
- You're insane.
And you haven't stolen
a single one of my fries,
so what is going on?
Ah, I'm just kind of having
a weird day, you know?
I I wrote this obituary about a girl
I went to high school with,
and it's just got me
ugh, thinking about that time.
I loved high school.
As you can imagine, at a
school for the performing arts,
I was kind of a big deal.
- Were you?
- I even played Racetrack Higgins
in our school production of "Newsies."
Not only did that role ignite
my passion for journalism,
but also, the local paper
raved that my performance was,
and I quote, "competent."
I mean, I also loved high school,
except for I wasn't
one of the popular kids,
so I was kind of just
friends with everyone.
That's what all the popular girls say.
I should know because
I say it all the time.
- What?!
- Come on.
I really just couldn't wait
till high school was over.
Just felt like a waste of time.
I'm really happy those days are over.
Are they, though?
I feel like an office
is just a high school
with more gossip and
fewer accidental erections.
That kind of is true.
We all sit at our own desks,
seeking approval from other people,
and then you've got the cliques.
The geeks, the jocks,
the cool seniors, teacher's pet,
the weird loner, and then there's always
that one super-intense Queen Bee.
Nell? Oh, God. Yeah?
I'd like to see you in my office,
but please don't follow
for at least 30 seconds.
I don't want people to
think we're walking together.
One, two
- You don't have to count, babe. It's okay.
- Yeah, no.
- Are you sure?
- Yeah. It's fine.
How would you like to write
your first-ever front-page obituary?
Are you serious? Yes.
I would. I promise not to let
you down, Lexi.
Okay, great. This is the assignment.
Why? I don't understand.
I I turned in this obit already.
Oh, my God. You're,
like, obsessed with me.
Yes, you did write it
already, but it was
oh, gosh, what's the term?
stanky garbage.
- I like her.
- Mm.
What's the first thing you
notice about Piper's Instagram?
She mangled the spelling
of "entrepreneur."
She had four million followers.
Two million more than
Bryce Dallas Howard.
No big deal.
Followers that will be
driven to the newspaper
if you write a warm
and thoughtful obituary.
- Oh.
- Hmm?
When I stop talking, it
means the meeting is over.
- See?
- Mm.
Oh, that makes it less personal.
Still hurtful, though.
- Ha ha.
- Ooh!
- Oh!
- Aw.
Take it, Dennis. Three-pointer.
Or you can just throw it back to us.
You okay? Oh, no.
Did Tina flip her
eyelids inside out again?
Someone hung a basketball
hoop in the bullpen.
- Oh, that's cool.
- No, not cool!
I don't like basketball.
Duh. You thought the Utah
Jazz was a Mormon swing band.
Karl Malone is a bass player's name.
LeBron, think fast. Whoo!
- Aah!
- Ooh.
- That's very good.
- Ah, thank you.
We have fun. We have fun here.
You know what you should write about?
- Huh?
- My memorial.
It's gonna be the
most fire funeral ever.
The whole Piper Posse's
gonna be there
Kaitlyn, Mckenna, Mckenzie, McKaitlyn.
And you'll finally be
able to go to a cool party.
I go to a lot of cool parties.
Escape rooms don't count.
Hey, Cheugy, there's
some lady here to see you.
Me, I tell my squad not
to visit me in the office
because unlike you, I
have a dope work ethic.
Mason out.
Is that your mom?
No, that's my friend.
She looks like a mom.
Yep. Still waving.
You left your sweater
at the bar the other night.
I was worried you might
get a little chilly.
And I packed your favorite snack, wine.
Aww, thank you, Cricket.
Today might be the day I
start drinking on the job.
Are you okay?
I got the front page story,
which is a huge step in my career,
but the woman that I'm writing about
was a mean girl at my high school,
and I'm just Ugh,
I'm just kind of starting
to get her negative
voice in my head again.
- Do you know why mean girls are so mean?
- Hmm?
Because deep down
inside, they are insecure.
You think so?
Jenny Witt tormented me for two years
because she was jealous of me.
On the other hand, I
did steal her boyfriend.
- Noice.
- Uh, thank you, Cricket.
I should probably get back to work.
- Okay.
- Thank you, thank you.
- Bye.
- Bye.
I can't believe you're in charge
of the last thing that's ever
gonna be written about me.
I don't want an obituary
that sucks, okay?
It won't suck.
Although, writing about
you is like trying to put
a positive spin on the Hindenburg.
Number one No one understands
your weird references.
And, "B," if you don't figure this out,
you're totally gonna boof this,
just like you did in the ninth grade.
I don't know what you're talking about.
You don't remember your
speech from freshman year?
As editor of the Bulldog Gazette,
I understand that fiscal
responsibility is
is a profoundly solemn oath
You suck, Nelly Fart-ado!
Go ahead, laugh.
One day, I'm gonna be
running The New York Times
and hanging out with Josh Hartnett.
Interesting. I do not remember that.
Yeah, you didn't exactly reach
your career goals, did you?
And I don't think that's Josh Hartnett.
You know, I don't care what you say.
I'm a strong, successful journalist.
Maybe you fooled these
dorks into believing that,
but I know the truth.
You're still insecure Nelly,
and you know you're not gonna
be able to pull this off.
Oh, my God.
- I need a break.
- Oh.
Classic Fart-ado.
- Hey.
- Hmm?
Could you read this
obit that I'm working on?
Sure. It's not like I'm trying
to do anything important,
- like beat Yusheng Du's world record!
- Great.
- Piper Ashford died?
- You knew her?
- I follow her.
- Of course you did.
She thinks deforestation's
super sadsies.
I think Al Gore said the same thing.
- Huh.
- Huh.
I'm sensing some sarcasm there, huh?
I grew up with Piper.
She was a real butt-munch,
but now, luckily,
I understand that she
was, uh, just jealous.
"They're just jealous of
you" is an empty platitude
that parents tell their kids
to make them feel better.
I had 27 childhood bullies,
and they were all very well-adjusted.
Neat. Great. Can you please read this?
It's for the front page.
- It's great.
- Really?
It's cold and dry.
It's like a list of bullet points
without any human emotion.
I connect strongly to it.
Awesome. Thanks.
Why is your door closed?
Oh, my God. Are you hiding?
You're hiding!
Is this about that basketball hoop?
- Sit.
- What?
Let me tell you a
story of a little boy
whose rugged good looks
were often compared to that
of a young Denzel Washington.
- Ooh.
- Yes.
One day, said boy happened
upon some neighborhood youths
who were playing a game
they called "street ball."
They invited him to join.
You know I I know you're
talking about you, right?
- The boy was frightened.
- Oh.
After all, he had never
thrown a ball before.
Like, ever?
There were no sports
at the Hirsch Academy
for Performing Arts.
But his acting teacher often said,
"New life experiences become
new acting experiences."
So the boy knew he had to try.
I have a meeting that starts
at 2:00, so I should
The boy grasped the ball in his hands,
aimed it towards the hoop,
but when he threw it, somehow,
against the very laws of physics,
it went straight up, came
down, smashed his glasses,
broke his nose, and
at the sight of blood,
the boy threw up and fainted
right there on the basketball field.
It's technically called a court.
This is about more than
just an office game.
Eventually, I'm gonna have
a little kid, and they'll go,
"Daddy, you wanna shoot some hoops?"
And I'll have to say, "No, thank you.
Daddy's not very athletic."
And then my kid will laugh at me.
And I will literally dissolve
into a puddle of shame.
Oh, my God. No, Dennis. I'm so sorry.
I didn't realize how
scary this is for you.
- Hey.
- Hey!
- Why's the door closed?
- Get in here.
Oh. Ooh.
Let me tell you the
story of a little boy
who came upon some neighborhood youths.
Oh, okay, so this is a very long story.
- It's okay. I'll fill her in later.
- Okay.
So, what is going on with the obit?
Oh, God, I'm having writer's block.
I mean, how am I supposed
to write something nice
about a girl that used to
call me "Nelly Fart-ado"?
That's a good one.
I mean, I used to actually
come up with nicknames
for people all the time in high school.
Like, there was this girl called Sarah.
I called her Betty.
How did you get Betty from Sarah?
She was always sweating all the time,
so we called her Sweaty Betty,
and then it just became Betty.
That is extremely mean.
What? No! She loved it.
She laughed until she cried.
- Oh.
- Hmm.
Was I A bully?
- Like, a bad one.
- Yes, definitely.
I need to atone for that sin.
Too bad you can't go back
in time and not be a dick.
But I could help you get
over your fear of basketball.
I'd rather have cash.
Then when I'm done with
you, nobody is gonna call you
"Shaquille O'Squeal," "Larry Turd,"
- "Tragic Johnson"
- Mama, no.
- Do you hear yourself?
- Can you please stop, por favor?
It's too much.
Nell Serrano,
could you come see me
in the conference room?
Nell Serrano to the conference room.
When did she install a P. A. system?
Last night.
Nell, I wanted to check in
on how the front-page
obituary is coming.
It's, uh, going okay.
Yeah. A little slow, I guess.
Ever since you started,
you have been begging me
- for a seat at the dinner table.
- Mm
Now here I am with a
chair pulled out for you,
and you are off pooping
in the guest house.
- Mason!
- That's my name.
Whatchu need, baby girl?
How would you like to
write a front-page obituary?
- Who's the subject?
- Hold on. One second.
Uh, you're giving him the assignment?
He's a freaking intern!
I was the editor of the paper
at Dartmouth, you old crone.
Silence! When I was a child,
every night,
my father would tell my brothers and me
that he only had enough
energy for one good night hug.
Whoever made the best case for
it would win his prized embrace.
This explains so much.
People work better when
they're in competition.
Therefore, both of you
will write Piper's obituary,
and whoever does a better
job will win the front page.
Think of it as though you're
both competing for my hug.
Although I will never
touch either of you.
She turned it into a contest?
And now Mason's going
to Piper's memorial,
so I have to go, too.
Ugh, and that stupid, negative
voice in my head
is only gonna get louder.
You know what's great
about getting older?
You have heard everything
that those voices have to say,
and you just stop listening.
You know, my mom said that
you shouldn't allow yourself
- to become a pessimist.
- Oh, my God.
How could I have had faith in you?
There are some beautiful things
I thought you would pull this off.
You're a grown woman and you're
taking advice from this lady?
negativity is the
enemy of creativity.
Why don't you tell your mom friend
that this negative voice inside
your head is actually a ghost?
I'm sure she won't think
you're psycho at all.
Because deep down, you know
that you're a sad little loser
and now you can't even
write one single obituary.
But you are a beautiful,
kind, lovely person.
Face it, Nelly. You
peaked in high school.
Would you just stop?!
I'm sorry. I was just
- I was just trying to help you.
- Sorry.
No, I I didn't I
It's, uh It's not you. I
I'll I'll see you later, okay?
- It's about damn time ♪
- Look at all the sponsors.
Aw, my very last Instagram post.
Oh, there's the photo ops,
and there's the omelet bar.
You know, I curated
all of this in my will.
Yeah, you mentioned
that, like, seven times.
I better see if they set
up the refection yurt.
Well, well, well.
Look what the cat threw up.
Why are you dressed like Tony Soprano?
Oh, don't be a hater
'cause you're jelly.
The front page is mine,
so you might as well go home,
Grandma. Ooh, churros!
Mm. That's how I feel right now.
Hey, is this seat taken?
I'm way too fine to
be this stressed, yeah ♪
- Oh.
- Oh.
I knew this was the last
place you wanted to be today.
So I decided to come give
you some emotional support.
Thank you, Cricket.
My career might be ending,
- but at least I got my friend with me.
- Yes, you do.
It's about damn time ♪
Okay. Alright. She is on there.
Now tell me What
is the ultimate goal?
To play Jean Valjean on Broadway.
- And to conquer your fear and make a basket.
- Yeah, mm-hmm.
I was gonna say that,
but the first thing
Alright. Now, you listen to me.
When I'm done with you,
this entire newsroom
is gonna see you drain
one from downtown.
I really like their costumes.
Focus! In. Let's go!
- Like a fish.
- Let's go.
What the [BLEEP] was that?
Now take the shot, take the shot!
- Close. Mm-hmm.
- And set.
- Okay.
- This is the end ♪
- Oh!
- Oh.
Very close.
Okay. We don't need to dribble.
You want to put your
hands in the same position
as Mariah Carey doing a vocal run.
That I understand.
Okay. Okay.
I need it all 'cause
I am running over ♪
I mean, we could just burn
the entire building down.
Ah. Of course this is the most
perfect funeral in history.
I'm not so sure sponsorship
is what makes a good funeral.
What the heck does she know?
She's probably still on Facebook.
If the Piper Posse were here,
they would have loved that sick burn.
Where are they?
If you ask me, it's it's kind of sad.
And not the way memorials
are supposed to be sad.
Check that out.
When Monty died, everyone wanted
to make a speech about him.
- Hm.
- I mean, it went on for hours.
Piper may have had
four million followers,
but I'm guessing she didn't
have a lot of friends.
I have friends.
I have tons of friends.
They're probably just parking.
You know what? Maybe you're right.
I mean, I I don't think
she had any real friends.
Not even the Piper Posse.
Are you high?
I rushed Delta Gamma with
McCauley and McKendra.
Yeah, she ruled over those girls,
but it was only for their approval.
Not because they were friends.
Even before social media,
Piper only had followers.
I can't believe I actually
feel sorry for her.
Huh. I'll be back.
- Alright.
- What are you doing?
Where are you going? Hello?
Excuse me, e
Excuse me, everyone. Hey. Hi.
Uh, I'm, uh, Nell Serrano.
I went to high school with Piper,
and it is a little odd
that I'm the one up here
because she was my bully.
No, I was not!
You shut your ugly face, Fart-ado!
Uh, when I was young,
Piper seemed confident and popular,
but now I can see another side to her,
a side that was probably
just as insecure as I was.
As much as we try to curate
the way people see us
no one knows what's
really going on inside.
You know, we can't be reduced
to a hashtag or a selfie,
because we're all so complicated.
Some of us spend our lives
running from our fears
before gathering the
courage to face them.
Some of us are still trying
to fit in with the cool kids.
And some of us are trying to
atone for the kid we used to be.
All those flattering
filters on social media made
Piper seem like a perfect goddess,
but, uh, she had
She had a negative
voice in her head, too.
The funny thing about that
mean and internal voice
is that it only hurts
when we start to
believe it for ourselves.
That's why we need a
kind and loving voice
that can tell that cruel
voice to shut the hell up.
I really think that Piper deserved
to have a kind voice in her life
that told her that she was good enough,
even without all these sponsors.
So, wherever she is, I
hope she has that voice now.
Yes! Whoo! Whoo!
You don't have to do this, you know.
No, this is gonna keep happening to me.
I have to slay my dragons.
But I just want you to know
whether you make it or not
is not gonna make you a better
friend or father or person,
because you are perfect
exactly how you are.
You've come a long way
from the accidental bully
- you were in high school.
- Thank you.
Yes. You're welcome.
And you know what?
You're right. I don't need this.
Let's go get donuts.
- Yes! Can do that?
- Yes.
- Please.
- Okay. Come on. Bah.
- You made it! You made it!
- I made it!
Oh, my God!
Suck it, LeBrum Germs!
Whoever you are.
Whoever that is.
Well, Mason, good news.
You have officially joined the ranks
of everyone who has
ever disappointed me.
Nell, you get the front page.
Your pathetic little
victory means nothing
because my best days are ahead of me
- and you've already peak
- Peaked?
Yeah. I've heard that one before.
It doesn't really bother me anymore.
Well, that's no fun.
What a dingus.
You know he took five
swag bags from my memorial?
By the way, I should probably tell you
that what you said about me was
- nice.
- Thank you.
So, uh, I guess this is goodbye.
- I just have one more thing to tell you.
- Oh?
You really put the
"bitch" in "obituary."
Smell ya later, Fart-ado.
Smell ya later, Piper.
Mm-mm-mm. Look at you.
You got your obituary on the front page.
Girl, I'm proud.
No, it really is well done.
I'm not crazy about
the headline, though.
"Dope Influencer Piper
Ashford Totes Dead."
That was, um, Lexi, uh,
saying she wanted to
be "down with the kids."
- Wait, her name was Piper Ashford?
- Mm. Mm.
Please tell me you called
her "Pooper Ass-Turd."
Where were you 20 years ago?
- I wasn't born.
- Okay.
- Thank you.
- Oh!
- Okay.
- Thanks.
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