What Goes Around Comes Around

"What Goes Around Comes Around"

(Friday--back of the set of Tool Time)
Al: Tim, I am so excited about our date tonight.
Tim: Oh, Al, good grief. It's not a date! The only reason I am going with you is because Jill wasn't feeling well enough to go.
Al: Yeah. So she came down with the flu this morning?
Tim: Yes, it was very odd. I mentioned the car show and she ran to the bathroom. Car shows don't usually have that effect on her. Now, monster truck rallies....
Al: Well, it would be more fun with her along...
Tim: Al, if she were going, you would be stuck home helping your Mom wax her upper lip, or whatever it is you usually do on Friday nights.
Al: You know, she tried to rope me into going to her new bridge group tonight. If it hadn't been for Jill's illness, I might keeping score for her.
Tim: Arrgh.
Al: You have no idea. When Mom loses, the entire apartment building knows it.
Tim: Oh no. Not a good loser, huh?
Al: Let's just say if the others want to actually eat any of the food, they'd better let her win.

(later that night at the Taylors)
(Randy and Brad heading out on their respective dates)
Randy: Mom, where are the crystal candleholders?
Jill: Why?
Randy: Oh, Lauren's been in a bad mood ever since that rumor came out that Hanson was breaking up. So, I wanted to take her to Grosse Point and have a romantic candlelit dinner to make her feel better.
Jill: Hanson's breaking up? Oh, that's terrible.
Randy: Mom....? The candleholders?
Jill: Oh, they're in the bottom left drawer (pointing to cupboard).
Randy: Thanks. I'm taking the tablecloth and some good plates and stuff, too.
(Randy packs a picnic basket.)
Jill: Okay, sure (distracted).
Brad: Mom, Samantha and I are going out to eat and to the movies. I'll be back around 12:00 or so.
Jill: Okay, sure (distracted).
(knock at the door)
Brad: Uh...I'll get it.
Mark: (coming downstairs) No, I'll get it.
(everyone stares--he has on jeans and a BLUE pullover)
Randy: Don't tell me--it's Cathy, right?
Mark: Yeah.
Brad: I thought she dumped you.
Mark: She said she made a mistake. She really likes my music. (kinda' smug)
(Mark opens door)
Cathy: Hey, sweetie, ready to go?
Mark: Sure! (begins to go out the door)
Jill: Let us meet, Cathy, honey. (coming to the door)
Mark: Uh, okay.
Cathy: You must be Mark's Mom. Nice to meet you. (holds out her hand)
Jill: Won't you come in for a minute?
Mark: Mom, we have to go.
Brad: (grinning maniacally) Hi Cathy. I'm Brad.
Cathy: It's nice to finally meet you. (whispering to Brad sweetly) And no matter what anyone else says, you really can't tell that's a toupee. (turns to Randy)Then you must be Randy. Mark has told me so much about you.
Randy: Don't believe a word of it.
Cathy: I was so sorry to hear about your health problems.
Randy: Well, it's not that bad...(staring at Mark) I just have to take a thyroxin pill to keep my thyroid functioning normally.
Cathy: Thyroid? I thought it was your prostate.
(Randy and Brad exchange glances.)
(Jill covers her mouth to keep from laughing.)
Mark: C'mon, Cathy. (nervous) I'll be back around 11:00, Mom. Okay?
Brad: Yeah, and you'd better stay in your room and lock the door when you get there!
Jill: (trying not to laugh) Sure, yeah. Great. Have a good time!
(they exit)
Jill: Well, isn't this great? The three of you out on the same night with cute little girls--and all blondes, too!
Brad: Mom, get a life! See ya'.
Jill: Wait! Now listen, guys, I'm not waiting up tonight. I'm still not feeling too good. If anyone is late, tell me tomorrow.
Brad: Huh?
Jill: It's time you guys started looking out for each other.
Brad: Yeah, Whatever. See ya'. (out the front)
Randy: Bye Mom! (out the garage)
Jill: Well, I guess that's it. All three boys out, Tim's going to be late. It's time for ice cream and Casablanca!

(later, Randy comes in through the garage door and throws the picnic basket uncermoniously on the counter.Then he takes off his jacket and sits down disgustedly on the couch, turning on the T.V. It's early in the evening, but Jill is in bed. Moments later, Brad storms in. He takes off his jacket and sees Randy on the couch.)
Brad: Hey, how'd your date go?
Randy: Great. She loved the dinner and the romantic atmosphere...she just hates me.
Brad: What'd you do?
Randy: Lauren is totally obsessing over this Hanson thing. So, I tried to, you know, bring out her feelings about it.
Brad: What'd you say, man?
Randy:That Hanson should've broken up a long time ago.
Brad: Aw, man. You know better than that. Hanson is bigger than all of us, man.
Randy: I know. How'd you do?
Brad: Crash and burn. I don't even know what happened.
Randy: C'mon, what'd you say?
Brad: I think it's more along the lines of what I did. Angela was there in the restaurant, and I couldn't keep my eyes off of her! She had this really tight sweater on.
Randy: Brad, get your hormones in control. So she got mad at you, huh?
Brad: Well, she was okay with the staring. She really got mad when I asked her if she wanted to have some dessert.
Randy: Why?
Brad: Because I called her Angela.
Randy: You know, your Mama raised an idiot.
Brad: Yeah, and I'm starin' at him.
Randy: (nods) So, care to join me for some Friday night television? Boy Meets World is on. Topanga and Corey are on the outs.
Brad: AGAIN??? And what kind of name is that, anyway–Topanga?

(hours later, the guys are in Randy's room, the house is dark)
Randy: So you tried to cover for me when I took off in the car last year? Thanks.
Brad: Yeah, I'm just sorry I couldn't come up with anything better.
Randy: So, are you looking forward to going away to college?
Brad: The truth?
Randy: Yeah.
Brad: No. (softly)
Randy: I thought you couldn't wait to get rid of us.
Brad: Yeah, that's what I want you to think.
Randy: So, you don't want to go to college?
Brad: I do, I just don't want to leave home. Dad and Mom aren't getting any younger, you know. And Dad's not getting any less dangerous, either. I'm not sure that you guys can handle him on your own.
(noise upstairs)
Randy: Hey, is that Mark? It's 12:30. What's he doing? He would pick tonight to be late.
(they go upstairs. Mark has been drinking.)
Randy: Where have you been?
Mark: Out with Cathy.
Brad: Hey, she's a babe! I'm impressed.
Mark: She's MY girlfriend--hands off!
Brad: Okay, okay. I'm just saying...
Randy: Mark, have you been drinking?
Mark: Yeah. So what?
Brad: (noticing Mark's black leather wristband) Hey, where'd you get that?
Mark: (gets agitated) At a party, alright? I'm goin' upstairs...
Brad: (grabs his arm and turns him around) No, Randy, look at this...(holds out Mark's wrist)
Randy: (reads) "The Black Angels"...a gang, Mark?
(Mark pulls his arm out of Brad's grasp.)
Brad: (steps closer to Mark) What were you going at a gang party, Mark?
Randy: Especially with Cathy.
Mark: Look, it wasn't a gang party. There were just a few of the guys there. And Cathy didn't mind. (to Randy)
Randy: Mark, those guys are dangerous.
Mark: Like you care. I saw you eyeing Cathy earlier. I know you think she's too pretty for me. And she's smart, too.
Randy: Well, I don't know about that, seeing as how you both ended up at a little Black Angels soiree.
(Mark takes a swing at Randy)
(Randy ducks.)
Brad: Hey! (grabs Mark and hold him back)
(Mark struggles to get loose.)
Mark: (yells) Great! What are you guys gonna' do to me now? Tie me to the swingset and make me eat a tadpole? Huh?
Brad: (lets go, stunned) Man, that was when we were kids.
Mark: Oh yeah, like you treat me a lot better now.
Randy: Look, Mark–
Mark: (interrupts Randy) Don't even pretend you care. You both think I'm a dork. Just leave me alone. (stumbles up the stairs)
Brad: Now I see what Mom and Dad have been talking about. You think he's serious about this gang thing?
Randy: (watches Mark go upstairs) A more pressing question is did he actually tell Cathy that you were bald and I have prostate problems.
Brad: (nodding) That's the product of a sick mind. Cathy must've come up with it on her own.
Randy: You know, I'm beginning to think Mark's problem is with us. (looks at Brad) He says we think he's a dork. What do you think about Mark, Brad?
Brad: Uh,.... I don't...I guess I don't think about him at all.
Randy: I think that may be his point.
(Brad nods slowly.)

(the next morning, Brad and Randy are eating cereal. Randy is reading the paper, Brad is reading a sports mag, dressed in his soccer gear.)
Jill: (coming from upstairs) Good morning, Randy. How was your date last night?
Randy: Alright, I guess. Are you feeling better?
Jill: (looks suspicious) I'm fine. What happened?
Randy: (sighs) Lauren got mad at me because I said that Hanson should have broken up a long time ago.
Jill: Randy! That's so mean! No wonder she's mad at you!
Brad: (to Randy) I'm telling you, don't even try to take Hanson down, they are so much bigger than we are!
Jill: How was Mark's date?
Randy: (quick look at Brad) He had a good time. Cathy didn't dump him this time.
Jill: Good. Where is he now?
Brad: Still in his room, I guess.
Jill: At 10:00? That's not like him.
Brad: He's probably... writing poetry about his date. You know how demanding song-writing is.
Jill: Yeah, I guess. Well, I have to go to the grocery store. You guys need anything?
Brad: Shaving cream.
Randy: Yeah, it's a full moon tonight.
Brad: Atleast I have something to shave.
Randy: Your back doesn't count, Brad.
Brad: Shut up.
Jill: All right, guys. See you later. Good luck in your game, Brad!
Brad: Yeah. Time for me to go, muchacho. Adios!
Randy: Score one for me!
(Brad exits out the front.)
(Mark comes groggily downstairs, minus the arm band)
Randy: Hey. Need some Tylenol?
Mark: (rubbing his forehead and opening the fridge door) Leave me alone, Randy.
Randy: (folding up the paper) Look, Mark, we covered for you with Mom. But you do it again and you're on your own.
Mark: Aren't I always? (takes out a coke and goes over to the couch, flipping on the t.v.)
(Randy puts his bowl in the sink and goes downstairs.)

(Later, in the kitchen again)
Randy: Lauren, I guess I just don't see the complexity in their music that you see. Can't we just agree to disagree? (she hangs up on him) Okay. Strike two.
Mark: (coming into the room from upstairs with his notebook) I love it. For once, I have a girlfriend and you guys don't.
Randy: So you're speaking to me now?
Mark: Nope.
Randy: (exasperated, follows Mark across the room) Look, I'm tired of this.... Why don't you just take a swing at me again, huh?
(Mark pauses.) I won't duck this time.
(Randy stands still as Mark turns toward him.)
Mark: What?
Randy: Is that what you need to feel better about yourself? You want to pound the crap out of me? Go ahead.
Mark: No. I don't want to hit you.
Randy: Then what do you want?
(silence)
Mark: (thinking hard) I want...to be me...and to be...like you and Brad. You know who you are. I don't think I ever will.
(exits out side door)
(Randy sighs. No progress.)

(Saturday night. Cathy is sittting at the kitchen table. Brad comes downstairs and sees her.)
Brad: Cathy, is that your convertible out there? Nice touch. So, have another hot date tonight?
Cathy: That's right.
(Randy is in the kitchen. Jill is fixing dinner.)
Brad: You know, Cathy, there's something Randy and I have been dying to ask you... What do you see in Mark, anyway?
(Randy comes around the corner to hear her answer.)
Cathy: You know... you boys need to get a hobby.
(Mark comes donwstairs laughing. They exit together. Brad follows.)
(Jill laughs.)

(outside)
(Brad catches up to Mark and Cathy on the walkway.)
Brad: Hey!
Mark: What do you want, Brad?
Brad: Where are you guys going tonight?
Cathy: Brad, you're not coming with us.
Mark: Man, get your own date.
Brad: No, it's just....I'm warning you, stay away from the Black Angels, okay?
Mark: Yeah, right, whatever. (they turn to walk away)
(Brad watches them walk away, sighing loudly.)
Brad: I hate being the oldest. (calling after them) And hey–this is NOT a toupee!
Cathy: (calling from the car) Whatever you say, Brad.

(Tim enters frm upstairs. Brad enters from outside.)
Randy: Well, Brad. Another lonely night at home for the Taylor boys.
Jill: You and Lauren haven't patched things up yet?
Randy: No. We argued all day long and I finally told her to choose between me or Hanson.
Tim: (grunting) Oh NO.
Brad: (shaking his head) You know you never make yourself look better by taking someone else down.
Randy: I don't see you going out on a date, either.
Brad: Yeah, Samantha's not even speaking to me. But I'm thinking of calling up Angela, anyway.
Jill: Well, boys, atleast you won't starve! I'm cooking my spaghetti.
Randy: Haven't we suffered enough?
Jill: Ha Ha. Set the table.
Tim: Ah...spaghetti. Oh wait, I have a great idea. Let's go out for dinner, honey, just you and me....a little candlelight.....a little music.....
Jill: Boy, you guys are desperate, aren't you?
Tim: (kissing her neck) If you only knew.
Jill: (wavering)Well, we can always have this for lunch tomorrow. Alright, boys, order a pizza for yourselves. We're going out. But (to Tim) this is going to cost you. We're going to Chez Pierre's.
(she goes upstairs to change)
Tim: Disaster averted. Go back to defcon 1, boys.
(Tim goes upstairs.)
Brad: Hey, I told Mark to stay away from those guys. He better listen.
Randy: (on the phone to order pizza) Yeah, and how are we gonna' know? Are you gonna' interrogate him when he gets home? (to guy on phone) Yeah, two large pizzas.
Brad: Yeah. I'll make him eat Mom's spaghetti if he won't talk. That should do it... (seriously) Maybe we should follow him.
Randy: (to guy on phone) One with green peppers, onions, olives, tomatoes, mushrooms and extra cheese. Hold on. (to Brad) It's too late to follow him.... What do you want on your pizza?... Maybe we should tell Mom and Dad.
Brad: Are you kidding?... How 'bout pepperoni, sausage, canadian bacon, hamburger, and extra cheese?.... Mom would be hysterical and they'd never let Mark out of his room again. That's just what he doesn't need.
Randy: Yeah, I guess. Mom would definitely pull out all the adolescent psychology tricks. Mark's id wouldn't stand a chance against Mom's superego. (to guy on the phone) Yeah, make that second one with pepperoni, sausage, canadian bacon, hamburger and extra cheese. Is there any way to make sure those two pizzas never come into contact with each other? Good. Do it.

(later)
(phone rings. Brad gets it, putting down a slice of pizza)
Brad: Hello. Cathy? What? Slow down. You dropped him off where? (Randy is now tuning in.) Don't worry, we'll get him. (hangs up) Randy, we gotta go after Mark. (gets his jacket) He's joining "The Black Angels."
Randy: I can't believe he went through with it.
(Brad grabs Randy's jacket and throws it at him)
Randy: (getting up and putting on his jacket) We should have stopped him from going out.
(silence for a moment)
Brad: Should we take the baseball bat?
(Randy stares at Brad.)
Randy: No.

(half an hour later)
(The sounds of muted music and laughter come from a deserted-looking warehouse covered in grafitti directly under a streetlight. The boys creep up slowly.)
Randy: Are you sure this is it?
Brad: Yeah, this is it. Cathy called it old Shakey's warehouse.
Randy: Shaky is a word I would use for it...(cracks an uneasy smile) If Dad ever did a Tool Time out here, it would be flat in ten seconds.....(suddenly the music stops)...You know, I'm beginning to rethink the baseball bat thing....
Brad: Too late. Let's just find Mark and get out of here.
Randy: I'm all for that. (they've reached the door)
Brad: Should I knock?
Randy: (deep breath) Unless you want to stand here all night.
(Muffled laughter is heard. Brad looks at Randy. Randy looks at Brad and nods. Brad knocks.)
(door opens--silence inside)
(out steps T.R.S.)
T.R.S.: (looking them up and down) So, what can I do for you homeys?
Brad: We're looking for our brother, Mark.
T.R.S.: Ain't no one here by that name.
Brad: (pushes him aside) Mark! Get your tail out here!
T.R.S.: (grins as six gang members file out slowly, pushing Brad back outside.) I told you, there ain't no one here by that name. But I can go and check for you. You stay here in Reno's world and have a chat with my boys.
(loud music begins again inside)
(the boys have circled the Taylors. T.R.S. goes back inside and closes the door. Brad and Randy watch the guys move in closer.)
(the leader, Reno, is a six-foot, 200 pound mass of muscle-bound flesh)
(it's fight or flight time--adrenaline pumping)
Randy: (to Reno) Okay, you've got us out-numbered here. What exactly is your point?
Reno: No point here. Just protectin' what's ours. You don't belong here.
Brad: We're not leaving without Mark.
Randy: (stares at Brad) Great. We have three to one odds, here, and I'm stuck with Dudley DoRight.
(Reno nods to his boys.)

fight scene would probably not play well....
show first punch...then go inside to Mark, who is waiting inside looking around nervously..T.R.S. comes over to his guys and they come and get Mark and push him toward the door. He is bewildered as they propel him forward, blaring music making all talk impossible. He gets outside just as Reno goes over to Brad and pulls him to his feet. The action stops...and the dialogue picks up.....
Here's what happens, like I said, probably off camera....
(Randy never even saw the first punch coming. The guy nearest Randy cracks him in the mouth and he falls against another guy who punches him in the kidneys. One more punch to the nose sends him to the ground in pain.
(Brad steps in front of Randy and punches the guy who downed Randy, all in one smooth motion.)
(But from behind, Brad is tackled and taken down. He throws off the guy just in time to get a fist in his eye. He rallies back and returns as many punches as he can, trying to work his way over to Randy and help him out.)
(Randy, trying to get to his feet, is picked up by another gang member and held while Reno knocks him a few times. He slumps over but is held up so Reno can finish him off. Then they drop him to the ground.)
(Brad falls from a hard right to the jaw.)

back on camera....
(The door opens as Reno goes over to Brad and lifts him up. Brad is bleeding from his nose and mouth, in pain. But he is able to stand.)
(Randy is writhing on the ground, blood everywhere.)
T.R.S.:(surverying the handiwork) Surprise! I found someone named Mark. (pulls Mark forward) Now, Mark...You make the call, man. Are these your brothers, or are we your brothers? Say it plain.
Mark: (shows no emotion as he takes in Randy on the ground and Brad being held back by Reno. Mark looks at T.R.S.) They're my brothers.
T.R.S.: You a waste of skin, man. (to his "brothers") Dump 'em all.
(They grab the three brothers and drag them to the trash pile. They toss Randy in, almost unconscious now. Brad gives a one guy a bloody nose before he is dumped.)
Reno: (to Mark) If they're your brothers, then you share their pain.
(He punches him as others hold Mark, giving him a bloody nose and bloodied lip. Then they push him in, too.)

(in the trash heap)
Brad: (groans) Mark, what the hell were you trying to do, get yourself killed?
Mark: I don't know. I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you guys to come after me. I just wanted to fit in somewhere.
Brad: (crawls to Randy) Randy? Oh, crap. He's got blood everywhere. We need to get him to the hospital. Randy? We've got to move you, man. Hang on.
(Brad picks up Randy and Mark helps steady him as they climb out of the trash pile and go for the car.)

(in the hospital)
(Randy is still unconscious on a bed being tended to. He is cleaned up and seems to be okay. Brad is sitting on another bed getting stitches on his forehead, arm in a sling. Mark stands looking at them, thinking.)
Mark: I'm going to try home again. Maybe they're back now.
(goes to phone in the hallway and dials)

(at home)
Jill: Hello?
Mark: I'm sorry, Mom, it's all my fault.
Jill: Mark? Oh my god, where are you? I've been so worried.
Mark: I did something really stupid, and Brad and Randy came after me. I'm okay, but they got hurt...We're ...at the hospital, Mom.
Jill: What? Your brothers are there? What happened? Which hospital?
(Tim hears her and comes over to touch Jill on the shoulder.)
Mark: They're both going to fine, Mom. Randy is hurt the worst. He's still unconscious. Brad got beat up, too. But they'll be fine, okay? Just hurry, Mom. We're at Peyton Catholic in room 312.
Jill: Oh my god. We'll be right there.
Tim: What?
Jill: They're at Peyton, but.... I think they're okay.

(later, at the hospital)
Tim: Let me get this straight: You tried to join a gang? What were you thinking? You almost got your brothers killed!
Mark: I know, Dad. I didn't know they would come after me. I didn't even think they cared. It was stupid. I'm sorry.
Tim: Well, it's going to take a lot more than "I'm sorry" to fix this one. You know, I knew that you were having problems, but a gang?.... (throws his hands up in the air) I need to go cool off.
Doctor Jiles: (entering) Mr. Taylor, Mrs. Taylor, the head CTs have come back on Randy, and he has a slight concussion. We will need to observe him for a few days, since he has not yet regained consciousness, but he should have no lasting effects from the head trauma.
Tim: Oh, thank God.
(he and Jill embrace)
(Brad leans back in his chair with a sigh of relief. He has been keeping watch over Randy's bed. )
Mark: (slumps over with his head in his hands) Thank you, God.

(the next day)
(Randy is awake looking a bit worse for the wear--bruised and battered, but eating a bland hospital breakfast. Brad, also looking a little rough, and Mark are enjoying "normal" hospital cooking.)
(Tim and Jill are in the hall conferring with the doctor.)
Randy: Man, you guys get all the breaks.
Brad: Nah, it's just a slight fracture. (motioning with his arm in a sling) And hey, that reminds me, what was that Dudley DoRight crack about, anyway? I was trying to keep dork here from killing himself, and you're making jokes.
Randy: (smiles weakly) It's in my genes.
Mark: (stands awkwardly) Um....I wanted to say thanks, you guys. I'm really sorry you got hurt trying to help me. But, it's nice to know that when I screw up, you're gonna' be there for me.
Brad: (also standing) Yep. That's what big bros are for (clapping him on the back). Although, you know you're gonna' pay for this, don't you?
Mark: (nodding) I figured.
Randy: Maybe we'll take it easy on you this time, dork.
Mark: Thanks.
(Randy nods)
Brad:You know, if it had been Mark out there with me, we might've had a shot, between his karate and my right hook. (walks over to bed)
Randy: Hey, the guy blindsighted me! And it was three on one!
Brad: Yeah. (more seriously) You know, Randy, I tried to make it over there to you. I ...was wishing like crazy that I'd had that baseball bat.
Randy: Yeah, same here. I know you tried... We got him home, that's what counts.(smiles at Mark)
Jill: (has been listening) I am so proud of you two for protecting your brother.
Tim: Now, on the other hand, you left on your own without leaving a note when you should have just called the police. In fact, Cathy should have just called the police. You know that, don't you?
(Randy and Brad nod their heads.)
Jill: I guess you learned the hard way, huh? Please don't ever put yourselves in such danger again. We love you...okay? We don't know what we would have done if something worse had happened.
Tim: We would have killed 'em--that's what we would have done!
Randy: Ah, life with father--never a serious moment!

The end.