Table Read - More Than One Idiot Brother - Act 2 / Part 1

Episode Date: May 16, 2023

ACT 2 / PART 1: In Northern Michigan, DUTCH NYBERG was set to quit the rust-belt town of Twelfth, forever. However, on the eve of her departure – her three idiot brothers: JP, RAIF and MORT, murdered the right-hand-man of the billionaire, KURT THOR, whose plans to build an autonomous car factory in Twelfth have been thrown into turmoil by the killing. Believing her late father would have wanted her to help her brothers, DUTCH risks everything in a desperate, dangerous attempt to keep her brothers out of jail. All the while knowing, that the very family she’s trying to save, have only ever looked out for themselves. ____ MORE THAN ONE IDIOT BROTHER: When an industrialist is murdered in an impoverished Michigan backwater, a misfit veteran must choose between saving her three idiot brothers from life in jail, or escaping her toxic family forever. Written by: Pearse Lehane ____ Follow Table Read (@TableReadPodcastLA) on Instagram for more info! Visit: https://www.tablereadpodcast.com/ Contact: [e-mail]   See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Recap Part 1. In northern Michigan, Dutch Nyberg was set to quit the Rust Belt town of 12th forever. Her father had recently passed, and the offer of a job at Kurt Thor's new autonomous car factory was never going to be enough. Her heart was set on the road. However, on the eve of her departure, she happened upon a bloody murder scene. Kurt Thor's right-hand man had been shot in the back. The perpetrators? Her three idiot brothers, J.P., Rafe, and Mort. Fade in.

Interior, abandoned cabin, night. Dutch kicks in the door and pushes the two white bicycles inside. Rafe and J.P. carry the body into the hall. Mort comes in after them with the police dog. Rafe and JP dump the man's body on the ground. Dutch slams the door closed, moonlight shafting in through several large holes in the roof. Dutch pacing, breathing hard, the brothers standing still, glancing helplessly at one another. I have questions. I have questions. Questions.

Look, there's no need to panic here. Panic is the last thing. This ain't panic, Rafe. It's despair. Not the same thing. I have questions. I didn't mean to kill him. Strange as it may seem, that ain't one of them. It was an accident. I just wanted to scare him. Have him fall on his... It was the recoil, I swear.

Didn't even mean for there to be a second shot. I didn't. I swear. But that won't matter to them. People like us ain't allowed to make mistakes. Not around the likes of Dr. Thor or mistakes of any kind. Dutch kicks the body. It rolls into the moonlight. It ain't Dr. Thor.

The dead man is Dr. Sandberg. If it was, I wouldn't be here trying to figure shit. This, maybe something can be done. No, that's Dr. Thor for real. It's Dr. Sandberg, the dude profiling everyone in town. Motherfucker. Didn't I tell you all our civil rights was being... Oh, you are no goddamn hero in this, JP.

You are not that. Why do you have a police dog? Didn't you hear? That you stole a fucking police dog? No, I did not hear that. No. About Chancer. Dutch looks at Mort, at the tears welling in his eyes.

A look of horrible realization crosses Dutch's face. Exterior, field bordering woodland, day. In the center of the field, the cab of a 1988 AMC Eagle has been chopped, then mounted on five-foot-high stilts. Completing the deer stand, a ladder leads up to the driver's door. Inside the deer stand, Mort and Chancer. A doe walks out of the woods. Mort carefully aims his.308 Winchester through the wooden panel where the windshield used to be. The doe shudders, drops down on her front knees, gets back to her feet, limps back into the woods.

Mort looks at Chancer. Chancer jumps across Mort, then leaps clean out of the deer stand, runs across the field, disappearing into the woods. Mort shoulders his Winchester, climbs down the ladder. Exterior South Lindbergh, road through the woods, day, aerial. The driverless auto blasts down the wide, straight road, followed by the convoy vehicles times eight. Intercut several times with chancer tearing headlong through the woods, the driverless auto accelerating down South Lindbergh. Chancer within sight of the doe, who's now crossing the road. Exterior woods close on South Lindeberg day. Mort jogging through the forest, eyes firm on the trail. A sharp howl in

the near distance. Mort stops dead in his tracks. Chancer? Chancer? Chancer? Chancer? Mort sprints in the direction of the Howell, tosses his Winchester so he can run faster. Mort bursts out of the woods, sees Chancer lying dead in the right lane. In the same lane, off to the south, he can see the driverless auto convoy speeding away. To the north, a beat-up pickup truck driving in the opposite direction. Mort falls on his knees next to Chancer, picks up his body, holds it like it were a child, weeps like a baby. Back in the cabin, a single tear rolls down Mort's face. A single tear rolls down Mort's face. Cause didn't do nothing. Nothing.

Didn't want to do nothing. Trouble the great Dr. Thor with the run-over dog in the woods. I'll tell you what's nothing in this. We're nothing. Nothing. Mort has a true and special bond with animals, and the police dog whines to see Mort so upset. It's why, I mean, when we saw him, I thought, you know, get a little something back off the bastard. He was only supposed to fall over from fright of it, I swear.

I get that part, but I'm sorry, you decided to replace Chancer with the stolen fucking police dog? No! No, we ain't fucking stupid, sis. Replace nothing. Until they get us justice for Chancer, we got their dog. You reckon that's more than fair? You reckon that's more than fair? Please tell me they don't know yet you have their canine.

Their what? Their dog! Their fucking dog, you fucking brain blade imbecile! No, we just got her not half an hour ago. We ain't sent the pictures yet, right? What? The pictures, you didn't send them? No. Nobody saw you take her?

We ain't giving her back. Nobody saw you take her? You're certain of that? We had the combination for the lock on the kennel, so we were super fast, like in, out, done. How in the fuck did you have... You've got to be kidding me. Interior, 12th police station, day, flashback. Sheriff Taylor slides a USB across the counter to JP and Conrad. JP picks it up, smiles sardonically, pockets it. Exterior, dog kennels, day.

POV body cam footage. Deputy Vagel walking towards the kennels. Luna barks excitedly as Vagel approaches. Hey, Luna. Breakfast time. Deputy Vagel takes the large combination lock in her hand, spins the wheels. Seven, nine, four, three. Fourth fucking amendment. Picture

freezes as the pause symbol appears on screen. Back in the cabin, JP falls onto his knees, wails like a lovesick teenager. I didn't mean to. Jesus Lord, please. You have to believe me. I didn't mean to. I can't go to jail. I cannot go to jail. I mean, I really can't. I ain't giving Luna up. I can't. And y'all wore blaze orange to go rob a police dog. If anybody come across us on the way up there, we say we're hunting.

Smart, huh? I ain't giving her up. I can't go to jail. But you have the dog and you still have the high-five shit on. I... Oh. So I ask again, are you certain absolutely nobody saw you... Fuck it, sis. Don't we have bigger problems right here, right now? Jesus, Rafe. Don't you get it?

If y'all were seen with Luna on the night Sandberg disappeared, Sheriff Taylor goes from no likely suspects at all to grilling your asses over every minute fucking detail of your whereabouts. I cannot go to jail. I ain't giving you Luna. Oh, both of you shut the fuck up. I have a clear choice to make. Friday coming, I'm out of here.

Gone. So my choice is that door and the I-75 tonight or getting mixed up in an idiot murder with a bunch of goddamn Muppets in hopes one of you jackass clowns don't fuck up your slim-to-none hopes of getting out from under this uncommon mess. I ain't giving up Luna. You know what?

Fuck it. Nope. This time y'all are on your own. Daddy. He would have wanted you to help us. Real family sticks like shit. You know he said that. Are you Dick Nyberg's daughter or not? He'd spin in his grave if you turned your back on us here like this. You know he would. Dutch hesitates, then pushes the door fully open.

Oh, fuck daddy, that it? And what he stood for, fuck what he would have done here for his boys to make damn sure they don't swing over one stupid horrible mistake. Are you Dick Nyberg's daughter or not? If not, who the fuck are you? A beat. Dutch grimaces. You will do. As I say,

without question, no hesitation. Yes? Yes. 100%. Everybody looks at Mort. Mort. That depends. Mort, quit! Mort seethes silently, then nods affirmatively. Dutch looks at her watch.

All right, it's 20 after midnight. First, we need to make sure that... Distinct sounds of brakes squeaking out on the road. Dutch pulls the door closed. Everybody freezes. We need to make sure that... Distinct sounds of brakes squeaking out on the road. Dutch pulls the door closed. Everybody freezes. A vehicle's engine is turned off. A beat.

Suddenly, a spotlight beam bursts through the window. Everybody drops to their knees. Rafe steals a glance out the window. Deputy Vagel's 4x4 is parked up next to Dutch's truck. 5-0. Vagel is using the4 is parked up next to Dutch's truck. 5-0. Vagel is using the cab spotlight to survey the scene. What the fuck do we do now? What the fuck do we do?

Shut up, JP. Shut up, JP. Rafe's confidence surges. He stands deliberately. I got this. Wait. Rafe places his hand on the door. Dutch grabs his arm. Wait. Do not go out there.

Wait, wait. Rafe pulls his arm from Dutch, goes boldly out the door. Hey, Carol. Deputy Vagel sees Rafe. She smiles like the sun coming out. Hey, Rafe. Whatcha doing in there? Well, I was up in the woods.

Deputy Vagel sees the dead deer in the back of the tow truck. Got caught short? I swear, Deputy, you ever take one of those dumps that feels like you're saying goodbye to an old friend? Best I don't go in there, huh? This angle hadn't actually occurred to Rafe. No, absolutely not. That's a great idea. Don't do that. I mean, I wouldn't. No, ma'am.

Ain't that Dutch's work truck? It sure is. But that's Dutch. Can never do enough for her family. Inside the cabin. Hearing Deputy Vagel's voice, Luna whines and strains the lead towards the door. Shut that fucking dog up. It's okay. I got her. One way or the door. Mort doesn't like the implication here, and there's real menace in his eyes and voice for the first time. Dutch looks out the window, sees Wraith flirting with Bagel. That boy has a gift, no doubt. Now, we got a gift going. Luna barks. Outside the cabin, Bagel hears the bark, raises her torch at the open door.

You hear that? Hear what? Why am I even asking? You're deaf in one ear. Shit, sorry, Carol, can you say that again? I'm deaf in my left ear. Inside the cabin, Mort sings Duérmete Niño softly to Luna. Duérmete Niño, duérmete ya, que viene el coco y te llevará. Luna is transfixed by Mort as he sings. Outside the cabin, Vagel moves towards the open cabin door.

You see a dog in there, Rafe? Rafe slips a snuff necklace from beneath his shirt. At the end of the chain is a small metal vial. Girl, you're tripping. Only I got the antidote right here. Deputy Vagel looks at Rafe, sees him tap a white powder onto the crooked shaft of his wrist. Rafe Snorts the coke off his wrist. Rafe offers Deputy Vagel his wrists in the you-can-cuff-me-now gesture, smiles broadly. Take me into custody. Wanna take me in, Deputy? Rafe nods to the 4x4. Deputy Vagel visibly blushes.

Inside the cabin, Mort still singing Duerme te niño to Luna. Dutch sees Deputy Vagel look around to make sure nobody's watching, then lead Rafe into the 4x4. In the light of the cab, Dutch sees Vagel snort a fat line of coke off the dashboard, then unbuckle Rafe's pants. Rafe turns off the cab light. You can quit singing. Mort stops singing. Dutch looks from Luna to Dr. Sandberg's body to JP, who is now hunched down, shivering, then out to the 4x4, which is now creaking on its axle. Dutch leans back against the wall, sees a second door in the room, walks over to it, puts her hand on the latch.

Dutch opens the door, sees what is clearly the butthole of a homeless person. Dutch opens the door, sees what is clearly the butthole of a homeless person. Exterior, 12th, Main Street, night. Flashback. Dutch wraps the outside of her door, tosses a pack of cigarettes to out-of-town Brown. He catches the cigs. Back in the cabin, Dutch closes the door, sees that Mort is looking at her. What's in there? Nothing.

Dutch hears the engine of the 4x4, rushes to the window. Sees Rafe saluting to Deputy Vagel as he walks to Dutch's truck, buckling his pants as he goes. Deputy Vagel drives off. When her lights are gone, Rafe gets immediately out of Dutch's truck, rushes back into the cabin. Okay then, what's the plan? The brothers look at Dutch.

Dutch looks at Luna, then the body, then the bikes, then the door into out-of-town Brown's shelter, then at her brothers. Lose the blaze orange. Luna's too. The boys take off their vests. Mort removes Luna's lanyard. JP, your pistol. And your cell.

JP hands Dutch the murder weapon and his iPhone. Pin. Hold on now, that's my private... Pin! 1787. Dutch unlocks JP's phone. As she talks, she scrolls through JP's pictures, deletes all the images and videos of Luna.

Go to Mama's. I'll meet you there in a couple hours. We overnight there, together. Tonight, we're each other's alibi. I ain't giving Luna up. As Dutch scrolls through J.P.'s media, she notices a folder labeled Fourth Amendment Audits, Keep. Dutch sees that the files are geotagged for the 12th Sheriff's Office. A thought occurs to Dutch, I said, I ain't giving. JP is looking at minimum 15 years here, Mort.

Manslaughter. Accessory after the fact, that's you, Rafe, and me. Five years each. Who's gonna look after Luna if you're in jail? Mama can't. Mama. Okay, you can take Luna with you for tonight. Good enough?

Mort nods affirmatively. Okay, now get, all of you. Here. Dutch makes out to JP that she's placing his iPhone into his pocket, but she makes a switch. Instead, she places her Nokia 3310 into his jacket pocket, which she powers off as she does so. What are you going to do?

I'm going to wrap Dr. Sandberg's body in chicken wire, weigh it down, dump it in the lake. Chicken wire? Old Medellin trick. When the body bloats up, the chicken wire slices the flesh into little pieces. That way, the corpse never floats up onto the surface. Fish do the rest. Mort smiles darkly at this notion.

What about the blood out on the road? I mean, they're going to be looking for him come morning. I got that. Rafe leans in with his right ear. What? I didn't catch that. I mean, they're gonna be looking for him come morning. I got that. Rafe leans in with his right ear. What? I didn't catch that. I said I got it! There'll be blood in here too. Sick to the woods. No roads.

Go. Rafe opens the door, scopes outside. All is quiet. Alright, come on. Mort makes his way outside with Luna. JP now in a daze. Come on! JP looks up Mort makes his way outside with Luna. J.P. now in a daze. Come on! J.P. looks up, makes his way slowly out the door.

As Rafe goes after his brother, he looks back at Dutch. It appears as if he's going to say something, maybe thank you, but no words come out. Then he's gone. Dutch watches her brothers disappear into the woods. She looks at her watch. It's gone. Dutch watches her brothers disappear into the woods. She looks at her watch. It's 1238. She looks at the two bicycles, one of them bloodstained. Series of super-fast hard cuts as Dutch grabs an angle grinder from the back of her truck,

uses the angle grinder to chop up the bikes. She finds what she's looking for, blinking tracking devices hidden inside the frames of the bikes. She finds what she's looking for. Blinking tracking devices hidden inside the frames of the bikes. GPS trackers to tell Thor's auto where them bikes were 24-7. Can't run over a kid if you see him coming from miles away. Sly motherfucker. She searches Dr. Sandberg, grabs his cell, sees his watch. Dutch looks at the watch, her head clearly whirring. That'll work. Dutch places the GPS transmitters, Dr. Sandberg's cell and watch, inside a red metal toolbox, slams it shut, locks it.

She snatches a tarpaulin from out of Town Brown's room, takes the shot deer from the back of her truck, rolls Dr. Sandberg's body inside the tarpaulin, places his body in the back of her truck, places the chopped bicycles over the body, places a second tarpaulin over the bikes, places the shot deer over the blood stain on the road, making it look like roadkill. She grabs two Tupperware boxes of badger cake from the back of

the truck, then smears the cake all over the shot deer, soaps the hunting lanyards in gasoline, lights them, sets the cabin on fire, jumps in her truck, starts the engine. Then she sees him, in her rearview mirror, staring right at her from the side of the road, out of town brown. Dutch turns off the engine, steps out of the truck slowly, but out of town brown is gone, nowhere to be seen. Dutch gets back in her truck, speeds away from the inferno. Exterior, Edison Lake, night. Super wide of a small rowing boat at the center of the lake sound of a heavy splashdown on the rowboat dutch takes out jp's iphone unlocks it scrolls through his contacts finds conrad felix hits the call button interior con, Conrad Felix's house, living room, night. Conrad in a gaming chair,

playing GTA 5 on a huge screen. Conrad is wearing a head mic headphones combo. I don't care if you're on your period, boy. That and the fucking plane now before I smoke your ass. Behind Conrad, his cell buzzes on the sofa. Caller ID is JP. Don't you know, cuz, I'm the motherfucking shore patrol. The call from JP's cell goes to voicemail. Back on Edison Lake. Yo, yo, yo, this is C-Doc Cole Warden, Citizens Fourth Audit, Michigan Chapter.

Fuck the police, speak the truth, biatch! Dutch hears the beep, but instead of hanging up, she places the phone by her feet, rows for the shore. Dutch keeps an eye on JP's cell as she rows across the lake. When the duration of the cell reaches three minutes, she hangs up, makes for a wooded isthmus stretching out into the lake. In the woods by the lake, a scene reminiscent of Dutch burying Abe Guttermsen's terrier when she was 10 years old, Dutch is once again digging dirt by lamplight in the woods. She places her red metal toolbox in the ground, covers it with earth, places leaves on top. Dutch climbs a tree above the hole, nails something into a branch, climbs down, picks up the lamp, exits the woods. Interior, Nyberg family home, kitchen, night.

Sound of the front door opening. Rafe and JP stand anxiously. Luna snaps out of sleep, looks at the kitchen door. Sound of footsteps coming down the hall. Dutch enters the kitchen. Luna jumps up, greets Dutch warmly. Hey, Luna. Rafe pours Dutch a neat vodka, hands it to her. Dutch sits. Silence.

Dutch lights a cigarette, downs the vodka in one. Just to let y'all know, dude had a Rolex worth a couple thou. Easy. I buried it in the woods. When this all blows over, if you want, you can take it to Sault Ste. Marie, sell it over the border. Well, if we're crossing into Canada for, you know, safety and shit, why don't we sell it now? No. Not now. Not yet. How long then? When I say. You ain't the boss of me. No, not now, not yet. How long then? When I say.

You ain't the boss of me. We all three in this the same. A beat as Dutch lets this land. Don't you mean all four, JP? I, you know what I meant. We three were there. Then you along. That's what I meant.

Nobody's selling shit till I say so. And that's final. A tense silence fills the room. The siblings look at each other, no idea what to say or do next. Mort sings Duerme de Niño to Luna. Rafe looks from Mort to Luna, then the Dutch. Reckon it's all that immigration shit. Must be. What?

Luna. Understanding Spanish. Dutch has no words. JP bursts into tears. Dutch puts her arm around JP. With her other hand, she slips his cell back into his jacket pocket, which is hung on the back of his chair. Takes her cell back.

Happy no one has seen this, she continues to pat J.P.'s back. It's okay, J.P. We got this, and I'm sorry for what happened. Why is the boy gurning? Mama Nyberg has appeared at the kitchen door in her nightclothes, insulin shot bag in hand. J.P. makes a concerted effort to steady himself. Luna looks at Mama Nyberg, growls a little. Mama Nyberg stares at Luna, who immediately steps in behind Mort. Well?

Woman trouble. Mama Nyberg walks behind Dutch to the iron stove, opens the insulin shot bag. Seeing this, Mort stands, makes his way towards his mother. Mama Nyberg sees him coming. No! Dutch! Dutch looks up to see Mama Nyberg handing her the syringe. Dutch stands, takes the syringe, draws from an insulin vial, taps the syringe, looks her mother straight in

the eye. Mama Nyberg lifts her shirt, exposing her belly. Dutch pinches her mother's skin, jabs her, pushes home the plunger, extracts the needle, tosses it on the insulin bag, sits down. Four in the morning. Your sister ain't set foot in this house in six months, then here she be at four in the morning. Well... Like I said, Mama, J.P.'s girlfriend, well, she only went down on him. She wouldn't fuck him.

Yeah, well, only girlfriend that boy's had in 15 years is pumping up his own fist. So why is a boy gurning? J.P. kicks his chair away, rushes out of the room. Mama Nyberg watches him go, looks again at Luna. That ain't Chancer. Something's sorely wrong here. She said as I walked in, sorry for what happened.

What did she do that she's sorry for, huh? What made a son of mine cry like a bitch? What did she do? Tell me! Look, Mama, there's... Both of you! Rafe and Mort look at each other. Stand.

Exit with Luna. Mama Nyberg sits opposite Dutch, lights a cigarette. You're embarrassed by your family, always have been. Too good for all this. For us. That's what puts you in the army, don't deny it. Both know it's true. I thought you'd never come back. That we'd seen the last of Dutch Nyberg. Well, your daddy's dead. You got no want to be here in this house no more. Yet here you be, sat deep in council with your brothers. What did you drag them into, Dutch?

I ain't ashamed of my family or where I'm from. But let me be sincere, Mama. If wanting to see the world beyond 12th, if wanting that is a sin, that ain't my church. Even if it's yours. I'm tired of being the mistake. What did you do? What?

A favor. For your boys. Truth. Don't, don't lie to me. I've always known when you lied to me, always. Even when you thought you were oh so smart. They never fooled me. Your brothers, dumb as they are, stick together. They're covering for you, I can feel it. So what did you do, Dutch? Just tell Mama. Dutch goes to a cabinet next to the stove, opens it, pockets a packet of milk bones. What you really want?

Let me give you that instead. I'm leaving now. Dutch makes for the door. A loving mother, casting her own daughter from her home? What kind of person you think I am? Dutch stops, looks back at her mother. Friday coming, I'm gone for good. Let's not part in anger this time. Whatever you got my boys into tonight, I'll see to it they do not go down for you. Not now, not never.

Just so you know. You've had a hard life. Take my advice. Don't make it harder. Think I'm afraid of you, huh? Mama, you can protect your boys on this or come for me. You can't do both. Not on this.

Not this. Trust me. You can't do both. Not on this. Not this. Trust me. What have you done? Tell me! You know what? You've been asking me that question all my life. I've got one for you, Mama. What have I ever done to you? You don't have a

child of your own. That the father loved more than you, a child the father loved more than the wife had done give him that baby child. It ain't right. I wish that for you. I do. In my lifetime. So I can see you feel it.

Dutch thinks about this. If you thought it went in back, you'd have thrown me into the range. So, just the doll? Just the doll. Dutch nods, exits the kitchen. You ain't better than us, Dutch! Nobody's better than your family! Nobody!