Table Read - Little Man - Act 2 / Part 1

Episode Date: April 11, 2023

ACT 2 / PART 1: Despite a rough first few days, Doug's life as an 8 year-old is going better for him than his life as an unemployed loser at 30. He's actually making friends, standing up to bullies, has a part in the class play, and is kicking ass in school. Julia, Doug's teacher, thinks he's gifted! Carl has good news: one more day and the do-over is officially over. Doug has proven himself a good person and will change back into a grown up. Doug confides in Carl that he's cool with being a kid again. It's his second chance to finally get his life on track. Ethan has become like the father Doug never had. Now Carl has to break the bad news to Doug: that's not how the do-over works. When Carl told him he'd stay a child if he didn't change his bad ways, he meant 8 years old FOREVER. No growing up all over again. Doug freaks out. This sucks! This isn't fair! Could things get any worse? ____ LITTLE MAN:  A hysterical irreverent comedy! "SHALLOW HAL" meets "13 GOING ON 30"... with a generous, dusting of "SUPERBAD." Our all-star cast absolutely destroys this script... guaranteed. You'll laugh out loud! Imagine a world where karma is a magic blue popsicle. LITTLE MAN is a comedy about a foul-mouthed loser who gets an unwanted "do-over" as an 8 year-old. But to turn back into a grown-up, this little d-bag has 10 days to become a decent human being or he'll stay a kid forever. It's hard to be good when you've been bad for so long. Time's running out. Tick tock! ____ Follow Table Read (@TableReadPodcastLA) on Instagram for more info! Visit: https://www.tablereadpodcast.com/ Contact: [e-mail]   See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Little Man Part 2 Karma's a bitch. When we left this hot mess, Ethan's sister, Francine, refused to babysit Doug. She and Doug hate each other. The solution was to enroll him in school. Sounded good to Ethan, not to Doug. After a hellish first day of school, Doug got a bomb dropped on him. Carl, the ice cream man, told him the only way he'd become a grown-up again is if he could learn to be a good person. But with only ten days, Doug realized he's screwed. And he's being watched.

But by who? Interior, school hall, day. Super. Day two. Bustling with kids, Doug and Ethan speak in low voices. Stick to the plan your genius flam what would a pussy I mean Ethan do you have to stay out of trouble be good just do what Carl said Carl can suck my gotta try nine days left Doug looks down

kicks the floor Ethan crouches to Doug's eye level, takes something from his blazer pocket. An apple. Give this to your teacher. Doug tosses it behind him. A woman screams. They turn. Julia is on the ground, surrounded by papers, looking really cute in her sweater and pearls. Damn it, that's her! In a flash, Ethan is there, helping like a Boy Scout. Need a hand? Fussing with papers, Julia doesn't look up yet. Thank you. I should have seen that ball coming. Kids, I think I'd be used to this by now. She looks up to see Ethan's handsome, smiling face.

You okay? Fine. Fine. You're fine. I mean, I'm fine. Everything's fine. Ethan helps her up. Doug's eyes narrow. What the hell, Ethan? He runs between them, covertly kicks away the apple. Oh, Doug. Hello there. Ethan rests his hands on Doug's shoulders. You must be Doug's uncle. I'm Miss Jones. Julia, Doug's teacher.

She extends a hand, almost drops the papers again. They connect in an awkward handshake. Doug's told me so much about you. He's excited to be at school. Thrilled. I'm just relieved Doug's okay. As am I. He scared the daylights out of me, wandering off like that. So excited to explore his new neighborhood. Thank you for everything

you did. Glad I was there to help. Both stand there grinning silly. Doug's had enough. Uncle even has a boyfriend. What? No, no, no. I don't. I'm not. The bell rings, ending the awkward moment. Gotta get to work. Same here.

Nice meeting you. You too. Be a good boy, Doug. Gives Doug a look, strides down the hall, trips on the apple. Your uncle's really sweet. He's special. Interior classroom day. The kids are gathered on the big rug in front of Julia. Behind the last row of kids, Doug lies down, bored. You're going to choose a favorite fairy tale and create a new version for today's world. Excited murmurs from the kids. Doug yawns, nods off. And then perform it on stage. The kids squeal. We've only got a few days, so let's get started. Get into groups of four and everyone has to agree on the fairy tale.

Ten minutes. Go! Kids scramble into groups. Julia nudges snoozing Doug. Come on, sleepyhead. Find a group. He groans. Natalie, eight going on thirty-five, overachiever, approaches. Miss Jones, I don't want to be in a group. I want to do this by myself. Natalie, this is about learning to work as a team.

Rachel runs over. No one wants me in their group. It's because you're such a... All of you can form a group. Doug, Natalie, and Rachel look at each other. Not happening. There's only three of us. And Wyatt makes four. On Wyatt.

He's cranked the glue all the way out of a glue stick. He sniffs it. You'll have to cooperate, share the work, be flexible. Doug scowls. Natalie crosses arms. Rachel shakes her head. And help each other focus. Wyatt bites off a chunk of glue.

Shoes. Later, chatter of kids working in groups. Two more minutes. The dysfunctional four sit around a blank paper. Glue all over his mouth. Wyatt watches an ant crawl across the floor. Cinderella? Yuck. She has cool shoes. I want to do the Little Mermaid. She doesn't even have feet.

Boring. Give me that. Doug snatches the paper, scribbles with a crayon. The...exorcist? It's awesome! There's this girl. Is she magic? She does magic-ish stuff.

Is there a fiery godmother? I messed up on that one. She does magic-ish stuff. Is there a fairy godmother or an evil stepmother? Oh, this girl is so evil. Let's see what you chose. I'm a mixed-mer-vist. Interior, Ethan's house, night. Francine runs out as Ethan enters.

Tag, you're it! Doug's room. Loud Xbox blares from Doug's cave. Ethan peeks in. Doug sits in a Game Rocker, a can of beer on his crotch. Fugly sleeps on the mattress. Doug hits the controller hard. Before you ask... Sucked so hard!

What happened? Ethan enters, lowers the volume. Why did they suck so hard? Where's the number one? Goldilocks and the dumbass bears! Ethan sits in the other game rocker. They're responsible. Stupid fairytale group project.

Lame class play. Group projects can be fun. Dumped with the freak, the bitch, and the overachiever? Not fun. And before you say I didn't try, I totally did. I was a team player. I said we should do The Exorcist. The Exorcist?

Yes. Pay attention. It would have been amazing, but Julia got all... It's inappropriate for kids. It's an American classic. But now I'm stuck in the loser group, and Julia's making us do Goldie Sox. It's an opportunity. Like what Carl said, a chance to be a decent human being. Eye roll from Doug.

Ethan sees the can of beer in his lap. Why is there beer on your crotch? You mean my microscopic dick? Interesting you should ask. Which brings us to why today sucks so hard, reason number two. Adjust the beer can. As we know, fate's a cruel bitch. My teacher is like, so amazeballs hot.

And I can't even yankee my wanky. I rub this cocktail weenie down to a nub. Wait, there's more. My best friend hits on my hot teacher. Don't deny it. I saw. I was not hitting on your teacher. And what if I were?

It's not like I'm married or engaged. Besides, Priya and I are taking a break. Thanks for that, by the way. Ethan exits to the kitchen. Doug follows, beer on crotch. Kitchen. Prius dumped you? We are taking a break.

She dumped you. Ethan loads the dishwasher. Things just aren't lining up. She wants to take things to the next level, and I don't know if I'm... So when's your play? Doug climbs on a stool to get to the Cheetos. Chicks. It's not like you've been going out that long.

Exactly. It's only been four years. And why are we talking about this? We need to focus on your... Do you want to make her breakfast? Ethan opens the fridge. Out of mayo. Again. Does she complete you? The Leia to your Han?

The Sid to your Nancy? Ethan joins him at the table. Now you're a relationship expert? Yes or no? I guess. Maybe. Probably. You say I haven't changed? You've always played it safe. Even when we were kids.

What nine-year-old opens an IRA? Always have plan B and C in case plan A goes to shit. That's what responsible people do. When you have plan B, you don't put your all into plan A. So, duh, it goes to shit. It's a self-filling prophecy thing. Prophecy. Self-fulfilling. Self-fulfilling. Self-fulfilling. a self-filling prophecy thing. Prophecy. Self-fulfilling.

Self-fulfilling. Self-fulfilling. Self-fulfilling. Self-fulfilling. One more. When you have plan B, you don't put your all into plan A, so, duh, it goes to shit. It's a self-filling prophecy thing. Ethan listens, chomps a handful of Cheetos.

Doomed from the start, because you never gave Plan A a full chance. Ethan shakes his head. Doug sighs. Here's the bean counter translation. It's like diversifying your portfolio. You spread out your money because it's less risky. The thing is, the payout's not all it could have been. But if you put it all into one investment... You could lose everything.

Or hit the jackpot. Doug is covered in Cheeto dust. Ethan exhales. Doug pops the beer and chugs. Ethan doesn't take it away. How's your... Num. That was the last beer.

Interior Ethan's house, day. Super. Day three. On Doug's face. Asleep. Curled up with Fugly. Rise and shine. Let's get going. Ethan opens the curtains. Sunlight hits Doug's face. He groans, pulls a blanket over his head. Ethan yanks it off. Saturday. Sleeping in. Interior. Ethan's car. Moving. Day. Ethan drives a cranky Doug. Need coffee. What are we doing? Carl said you gotta learn to be a decent human being, right?

You have to be so perky. This is a crash course. Exterior. Senior center. Ethan's car. Day. Doug's on a bench by the entrance. Ethan watches in his car. An access van pulls up. Senior citizens, 70 to 90, deboard. Doug glances at Ethan.

He gives Doug a thumbs up. Doug runs up to an old lady, 93, takes her by the elbow. Right this way, ma'am. The old lady whacks Doug on the head with her purse. Hey! Hey! They got him! She whacks him again. Doug covers his head.

She winces, hand on her chest, short of breath. Is she having a heart attack? Ethan's eyes go big. Nurses run to the old lady's aid. Doug runs to Ethan's car. Exterior, Heal the Bay Beach cleanup, day. Volunteers of all ages pick up trash along the beach. Doug chucks his full trash bag onto a mountain of trash bags. He flops on the sand, exhausted. Tears open a bag of Cheetos. Ethan chats with Heal the Bay volunteers. A seagull lands near Doug.

Eyes his snack. Fuck you, bird. He kicks sand at it. Seagull squawks. Launches at Doug. He flails. Seagull rips the Cheetos from his grip. They scatter all over the sand.

Another seagull lands. And another. Ethan hears screaming. Turns. Hundreds of seagulls have descended upon Doug. Ethan shoos them away. Reveal Doug. Covered in seagull poop. The mountain of trash bags and shreds. Trash scattered blowing all over the beach. of trash bags and shreds. Trash scattered, blowing all over the beach. Exterior park, day. Picnic area filled with happy families. On

banner, support the Firefighters Fund. All you can eat barbecue. Firefighters, 20s to 40s in apron, serve up coleslaw, chili, burgers, and hot dogs to a huge line of people. Ethan eats a hot dog keeps an eye on doug standing in the food line doug has ketchup all over his face and his too big heal the bay

t-shirt it hangs like a dress doug gives ethan a thumbs up excited to do his part to support firefighters ethan gives him a thumbs up in return d Doug's in his element. He's got this. Firefighter Bill, 45, works the grill. Next in line, Doug steps up. Back again, buddy? You've had six. Maybe you should slow down a bit. It's all you can eat.

Next, Doug fumes. Moments later. On grill, hot dog sizzle. A chubby little hand snags one. Doug runs off with a hot dog. He trips on his too long t-shirt. Goes down hard. The hot dog flies from his hand.

Smack. Hits a teenager, 16 in the eye. The teen stumbles into the buffet table. It buckles on one side, catapults coleslaw and chili into the air, and onto families and firefighters. Firefighter Bill slips on chili. He knocks over the grill. Paper table claws catch on fire.

Screams, mayhem. Firefighters scramble for extinguishers. Ethan turns to the commotion, eyes widen in horror. Slow motion. Like a scene from a war movie, Doug runs, face twisted with fear. Behind Doug, flames, smoke, destruction. Interior Ethan's house, day. Go, go, go! Interior, Ethan's house. Day. Super. Day four. On Doug's face. Asleep. Curled up with Fuddly.

Rise and shine. Let's get going. Ethan opens the curtains. Sunlight hits Doug's face. He groans, pulls a blanket over his head. Ethan yanks it off. Freaking Groundhog Day deja vu! You need help from a higher power. Interior, St. Monica's Catholic Church, day. Packed church. Churchgoers receive communion.

Doug stands in the communion line. He wears one of Ethan's ties. Prayer hands, cherubic. He glances at Ethan in a pew. Ethan gives him a thumbs up. The line moves at a snail's pace. Doug leans out to see up ahead. A priest, 40, passes out tiny white wafers.

A few feet away, an old priest, 70, holds a chalice of wine. On Doug's next step, he veers off, bypasses the wafers, heads straight to the wine. Ethan watches anxious. The old priest holds up the chalice. The blood of Christ, my son. Cheers. The old priest chuckles at the boy's odd remark, hands him the wine. Doug takes a sip, then chugs. The old priest wrestles it from Doug's small but strong hands. Doug burps. Ethan sinks in the pew. Exterior, Mormon Temple, day.

Ethan and Doug approach the entrance. Ethan stops to adjust Doug's tie. Wine stains on Doug's shirt. No funny business this time. I was thirsty. Singing. Doug freezes. The singing gets louder. It's an all-too familiar rendition of Father Abraham. He turns. It's the Johnsons heading toward Doug. Doug darts the opposite way through the parking lot. SUVs and minivans crash. Car alarms blare.

Elders, 20s on bikes collide. Exterior, Buddhist temple, day. Tranquil. Orange-robed monks, 30 to 60, tend to the incense. Offerings are placed before the statue of Buddha. Flowers, candles, food. Doug and Ethan sit cross-legged on the floor, eyes closed in meditation. Doug's tummy growls.

He side-glances at Ethan, deep in peaceful meditation. Then he spots an offering set before Buddha. A big bowl of rice. Interior, Ethan's car. Moving. Day. Silence. Ethan drives. Zen gone. Doug has grains of rice stuck on his

face and shirt. Like the statue was gonna eat it. Ethan doesn't reply. Grips the steering wheel tighter. Doug winces. Rubs his arm. Those monks work out. Interior classroom, day. Super, day five.

Butterfly life cycle lesson. Doug draws on his desk. What happens to the caterpillar inside the chrysalis? Doug? It shrivels up and dies a slow, painful death. The PA system tones interrupt. Julia hushes the class,

gives Doug a warning look. Good afternoon, Fairview Elementary. Cookies for a caring money is due tomorrow. Every penny goes to the World Child Fund. For more cookies, take your request form to the auditorium after school. The winning class will be announced at the assembly tomorrow. Kids shriek excited.

But the fifth grade always wins. Don't give up. There's still time. Who's selling more cookies today? All hands go up, except Doug's. That's the spirit. Teamwork. Exterior Auditorium Day.

Students wait in a long cookie line. A pack of fifth graders, 10 to 12, arms full of cookie boxes, struts by Doug's classmates in line. Natalie, Rachel, Wyatt. Ashford and Jake lead the pack. Teeny weeny Ewoks think they can win. How cute. Fifth grade's gonna win like always. We won the recycling contest and the jog-a-thon.

Natalie does some quick mental math. Actually, there's only a 16% chance. Ooh, big brain on little girl. Big brain. Shut up, Jake. Fifth graders rule, second graders

drool. Game over, losers. The older kids snicker and saunter off, leaving the little kids scared, confused, and pissed off. A few yards away, Doug watches. Later, cookie table. Parent volunteers, 30s to 40s, pass out boxes of cookies. Doug hands a paper to a volunteer. 120 boxes?

My uncle signed it. He points to the child-made blob on a form. Interior, Francine's car, moving, day. Crayon blue cookie boxes. Francine drives while Doug has Ethan on speakerphone. $600? For what? Cookies. Money's due tomorrow. I am busy. My boss is on my case.

But it's for a good cause. Damn it, I need to sell. Francine can help you. Call ends. Exterior, less is more food store entrance. Day. Doug stands with two suitcases of cookies. He's not having any luck. Cookies!

Five dollars a box! An obese man, forties, waddles up. Doug brightens Easy sale I'll take a dozen boxes I've got chocolate chip, peanut butter, oatmeal raisin Reduced fat? Doug bursts into giggles The irony is too much

Can't stop giggling Offended, the obese man leaves in a huff Time lapse Day fades into night Interior, Francine's car, night Francine scrolls on her phone Text message from Ethan Working late? Feed Doug

Thanks for cookie help Exterior, less is more food store entrance. Night. Doug lies on a suitcase, covered in crumbs, eating cookies. He's given up. Francine approaches. How many did you sell? Seven. Don't count the ones you ate. I look like a freaking Girl Scout to you?

How many? Two. I'm done. That's your dinner. Ethan's working late. She kicks him to move over. Sits. Opens a box.

Munches. Hmm. These aren't that bad. You owe me five bucks. Five? Store sells the same thing for three. You need to lower your price or reduce your competition. Doug sits up, the gears turning in his head.

Or finds a new location. Interior, Beta Fraternity House, Glendon University, night. Raging frat party. Kegs, beer pong, Doug and Francine maneuver the crowds, suitcase in tow. Later, patio. Francine enters. Thick smoke. Couches.

Joints roll, bongs go round. Stoner heaven. She grins. Main party area. Stoner heaven. She grins. Main party area. Music flares. Red solo cup in hand. Doug dances with sorority girls. 20.

He's eye level with ample bosoms. OMG! Adorbs! I can't even! Those cheeks! Must squeeze! She bends over for a squeeze. Doug gets a view of cleavage. Must squeeze! She bends over for a squeeze. Doug gets a view of cleavage.

Must squeeze. Francine yanks him away. Minutes later, patio. Cookies! Five bucks a box! Or two for twelve. Two for twelve? Score! Deal me in!

Stone Student One waves cash. Doug takes it, gives him the cookies. Yes! Sweet! Here you go, Keebler Elf! He hands Doug more cash. He's so wasted, he paid twice. More Stone Students swarm Doug.

Money and cookie boxes fly. Later, Doug, Francine, and Stone students, 18 to 20, sit on couches. On Doug's suitcases, empty. Francine takes a hit off a joint. Doug blows huge smoke rings. Whoa, he's like a tiny Gandalf. Nah, bruh. Bilbo Baggins.

Interior, Francine's car moving. Night. Giggling. Francine dries. Doug wears a huge beta sweatshirt. Francine's phone pings and pings. They don't hear it. That was crazy!

Uh, any left? I'm so hungry. Sold them all. And made a profit. He fans a wad of cash. She ruffles his hair. More giggles. Well played, little hobbit. Keebler elf. Hey, let me drive. You can't reach the pedals.

Come on, I can steer. Now, Doug, you wouldn't want to attract attention. Get pulled over. On Francine's car, it creeps down the street. Cars zoom by. Giggling continues.