Bob the Tumor (2 of 4)

Scene: Mr. Harpner’s Office

(Mike peaks in through doorway. Knocks lightly. Mr. Harpner sits shuffling through papers)
MIKE: Mr. Harpner?
MR. HARPNER: (Looks up from desk) Oh hello, Mike.
MIKE: Is this a bad time?
MR. HARPNER: Of course not, son, get in here.
(Bob sits beside Mike a second time, this time wearing the exact same shirt and slacks as Mike)
BOB: Guy calls you ‘son’?
(Mike enters. Takes a seat in front of Mr. Harpner’s desk)
MIKE: Thank you, sir. I wanted to talk to you about what happened yesterday.
MR. HARPNER: You sure gave us quite a scare.
MIKE: I know, I realize that, and I want to explain.
MR. HARPNER: Nerves getting to you? Stress? Trust me, it happens. I once crapped my pants in an elevator cause my boss kept me on so many errands I didn’t have time to get to the bathroom for a whole day.
MIKE: That’s…nice?
MR. HARPNER: Don’t tell anyone else I told you that.
MIKE: Wouldn’t dream of it.
BOB: This man is awesome. He likes you.
MR. HARPNER: You know I like ya, kid—
BOB: (taps Mike’s shoulder) See?
MR. HARPNER: —so what’s on your mind? What’s stressing you out?
MIKE: It’s not stess, sir.
MR. HARPNER: It ain’t?
MIKE: No.
MR. HARPNER: Then what’s the problem?
MIKE: I went to a doctor yesterday, just got results in today. I may need a few days off soon.
MR. HARPNER: What’s wrong, Mike?
MIKE: It’s cancer.
(Mr. Harpner pushes his papers aside)
MR. HARPNER: …cancer?
MIKE: Yes sir.
MR. HARPNER: Where?
MIKE: Brain.
MR. HARPNER: I see. (turning in chair and pointing to a picture that sits behind) You’ve met my son, haven’t you?
MIKE: Yes sir.
MR. HARPNER: I bet you didn’t know I had two, did you?
MIKE: No sir.
MR. HARPNER: He was young when I lost him, younger than you. Heart cancer.
MIKE: God.
MR. HARPNER: It’s one of the rarest forms, almost never goes beyond benign, but Peter wasn’t lucky. He was always different. Special. I guess his body was too.
MIKE: I’m sorry to hear that.
MR. HARPNER: You come to me when you need time off and you’ll have it.
MIKE: Thank you, Mr. Harpner, but I’m okay for now.
MR. HARPNER: (slams his hand down on the desk, voice rises) Don’t you do that. Don’t put this off. This isn’t an unpaid bill or a late report. This is big. Don’t let this swallow you.
MIKE: I won’t.
MR. HARPNER: I know. You’re a fighter, I can tell. Now go home. Finish the reports there and bring them in tomorrow.
MIKE: Thank you, sir. (stands, Bob stands, turns around, Bob turns around) Before I go, do you mind if I ask you something?
MR. HARPNER: Shoot.
MIKE: About the internship…
MR. HARPNER: That’s what you’re worried about?
MIKE: A little bit.
MR. HARPNER: That’s why you’ll always get ahead, why you stay later than anyone else. It’s also why you’re still single and always eat TV dinners for lunch.
(Bob lets out an exaggerated laugh)
MIKE: Thank you?
MR. HARPNER: You’ve already got it. Now go home. Now.

Scene: Mike’s Apartment

(Bob and Mike sit at table. Both wear matching pyjamas. Mike drinks from Santa Cup)
BOB: There’s still hope. You heard what Dr. Swanson said.
MIKE: (sets down Santa Cup) He said it was inoperable.
BOB: But he said it was still treatable. And we caught it before it got serious. Now you’ve got a name for a treatment center and we can get started.
MIKE: You know I’ll be fighting you with this treatment?
BOB: I know.
MIKE: And you’re okay with that?
(Bob reaches forward and picks up Santa Cup, takes a drink from it. Mike stares dumbly)
BOB: There’s plenty more of me, Michael. This part just happens to talk.

Scene: Mike’s Bedroom

(Bob and Mike lie side by side on Mike’s bed, staring up at the ceiling)
MIKE: I’ve decided to give you a name.
BOB: Really now?
MIKE: Really.
BOB: What have you come up with?
MIKE: Bob.
BOB: Bob?
MIKE: Yeah. Like Robert, but shorter.
BOB: Interesting…
MIKE: Do you not like it?
BOB: I do, actually.
MIKE: Good.
(two are quiet for a few seconds)
BOB: I’m still killing you.
MIKE: I know.

Scene: Dr. Dovetail’s Office

(Bob and Mike sit in front of new doctor)
DR. DOVETAIL: (in thick Irish accent) Mr. Swan, nice to meet you, I’m Dr. Dovetail.
(The two shake hands)
MIKE: Seriously?
DR. DOVETAIL: Yes.
MIKE: Alright then.
DR. DOVETAIL: I’m glad you’ve chosen The Northbend Cancer Treatment Center as your treatment center of choice.
BOB: (tilting head) Did he just say the same thing twice?
MIKE: I didn’t really choose it; I just got a referral from Dr. Swanson.
DR. DOVETAIL: All the same.
BOB: It really isn’t.
DR. DOVETAIL: From what I read here, the placement of your cancer makes operation exceedingly difficult, as the tumor has massed itself deep within the brain rather than along the outer surface. It’s quite an extraordinary occurrence, I must say.
MIKE: Maybe they can study me after I’m dead.
DR. DOVETAIL: Now don’t be that way. We gotta stay positive, Mr. Swan. Gotta keep our eye...on…the…ball.
BOB: Why…is…he…doing…that?
MIKE: Oh yeah, I’m right there with you, eye on the ball.
DR. DOVETAIL: Now we need to talk chemotherapy. This seems to be one of our few options.
BOB: Sounds great.
DR. DOVETAIL: Now there’s also a little matter of payment and your insurance.
MIKE: Sounds great.

Scene: Mike’s Apartment

(Mike picks up phone, dial’s his mother’s number. Only hear his Mother’s voice)
MIKE: Mom…it’s Michael.
MIKE’S MOM: Hey, Michael. How you been? It’s been so long since you called; let me get your brother on the phone.
MIKE: Jake’s there?
MIKE’S MOM: He’s visiting for a few days before heading back to New York. Let me go get him.
MIKE: That’s okay, Mom.
MIKE’S MOM: He’s watching the game right now. He says ‘hi’.
MIKE: That does sound like something Jake would say.
MIKE’S MOM: Still a joker.
MIKE: Always.
MIKE’S MOM: So what’s up?
MIKE: There’s something I need to talk to you about.
MIKE’S MOM: I’m listening.
(Mike’s voice finally begins to break. He breathes hard. Almost crying)
MIKE: Something’s happened, Mom…something serious. Expensive, too.
MIKE’S MOM: Michael…
MIKE: I don’t know what else to do.
MIKE’S MOM: Michael, you’re scaring me.
MIKE: I’m …I’m gonna need some help.

Scene: Chemotherapy Hallway

(Mike sits in chair with IV stand set up next to him. Chemo bag hangs from the IV stand. Thin chemo patient walks by, pausing to study him)
CHEMO MAN: First time?
MIKE: Uh…yeah, first time.
CHEMO MAN: (creepy chuckle) Gonna be fun…
(Chemo Man walks off, leaving Mike appropriately freaked. Young nurse enters. She leans over beside Mike, working an IV into his vein)
NURSE: Well Mr. Swanson, here we are, first day of chemo. You ready?
MIKE: Much as I’ll ever be.
NURSE: Good, I like the enthusiasm. I’ll get the drip and we’ll get you set up. Your family should be able to come see you once everything’s ready. Did you want a book to read or something?
MIKE: I’m okay.
NURSE: You sure? You’ll be here a long time.
(Bob walks into shot wearing a hospital gown. Takes a seat on the floor beside Mike)
MIKE: (looking at Bob) I’m sure I’ll find a way to keep myself entertained.
(Nurse turns to leave. Mike stops her)
MIKE: Actually there is one thing I have in my bag up front that I wouldn’t mind having.
---
(Close up of Santa Cup in Mike’s hands, brings it up to his lips. Jake, Mike’s brother, enters and sits beside his brother)
JAKE: Hey, Mike.
MIKE: Hey, Jake. Where’s Mom?
JAKE: Stepped out for a smoke.
MIKE: She still smokes?
JAKE: I think this is a special occasion.
MIKE: Right.
JAKE: (motions towards Santa Cup) You still have that thing?
MIKE: Family heirloom.
JAKE: We bought it at a yard sale ten years ago.
MIKE: (shrugs) Like I said, family heirloom. (takes another sip)
JAKE: You know I always pictured myself to be the one in this position, never you. I’m older, was always the risk taker.
MIKE: You say risk taker, I say screw-up.
JAKE: Tomay-toe, tomah-toe.
MIKE: Whatever.
JAKE: I’m sorry, Mike.
MIKE: For what?
JAKE: For whatever I have to be sorry for.
MIKE: You gotta be more specific, man.
JAKE: You know I love you, right?
MIKE: I know. I’d give you a hug but I’d rip out the IV.
(Jake pulls out his I-pod and begins flipping through the videos)
JAKE: How bout we just watch some South Park instead?
MIKE: Sounds good to me.
---
(Bob sits next to Mike, the two alone with their chemo. Bob looks pale, a little shaky)
BOB: Alone at last, huh?
MIKE: Alone at last.
BOB: You…you doing okay?
MIKE: Yeah. How ‘bout you, Bob?
BOB: I’m good. Hangin’ in there.
MIKE: That’s a shame.
BOB: Funny.
MIKE: I thought it was.
BOB: Well, we got four more hours of this left to ‘enjoy’.

Scene: Zombie Dream

(sudden jump cut to Mike running down empty sidewalk towards open field. Charlie runs close behind. Dr. Swanson and Hospital Nurse chase after them, zombified)
CHARLIE: (panting) What the hell’s going on, Mike?
MIKE: (panting) I have no idea, Charlie!
CHARLE: Why are zombies chasing us? Why are you wearing a track suit?
MIKE: (glances down briefly, is indeed wearing tracksuit, notices Santa Cup on ground as he runs by) I have no idea, Charlie!
(Charlie pulls out phone, begins dialling number)
MIKE: What the hell are you doing?
CHARLIE: Calling Cheryl, she’s gonna love this! (waits a few seconds before talking) Hey Che- (trips and falls)
(shot of Mike running as zombies merge on Charlie)
CHARLIE: Mike! Help me, broskie!
MIKE: (keeps running) I’m okay, Charlie!
(cut to static shot. Two Dominos employees eating from pizza box)
PIZZA GUY #1: I can’t believe he sent the pizza back, just cause of some allergy to pepperoni.
PIZZA GUY #2: I know.
PIZZA GUY #1: (takes bite, speaks with mouth full) Can’t believe they let us both deliver the same pizza.
PIZZA GUY #2: I know.
(Mike runs by screaming. Both men watch him pass)
PIZZA GUY #1: Someone’s in a hurry. Wonder what that’s about.
PIZZA GUY #2: I don’t know.
(zombie horde shambles by the two in the distance, ignoring them. Two continue eating)
(cut to field. Mike sprints with shaky shot following him. Stops and sees machete lying on ground)
MIKE: Okay then. (grabs machete)
(poorly shot fight scene. Off-screen strikes. Fruit punch blood flies from multiple angles. Machete remains clean)
MIKE: (screaming) This doesn’t seem logical at all!
(hand lands on Mike’s shoulder. Mike turns. Zombie Sam stands behind him)
MIKE: Sam?
(second hand lands on Mike’s shoulder. Mike turns in new direction. Zombie Bob stands behind him)
MIKE: Oh come on!
(Mike is promptly devoured. Fade to black)
(cut to Mike’s living room. Mike on couch wakes up. Shakes head. Focus on set of pill bottles on his table. Grabs one and proceeds to read the side effects)
MIKE: Side effects may include stomach pains, night sweats...(mumbles few incoherent side effects) vivid dreams. No shit. (tosses pill bottle across room)

Scene: Running Trail

(Mike runs behind Bob. Slowing his pace until finally he stops. Holds hand to his head, rubs temples. Drops to knees and vomits. Bob doubles back)
BOB: You okay?
MIKE: (wipes mouth with back of hand. Drenched in sweat) I think jogging’s suspended for the foreseeable future.

Scene: Park Bench

(Camera follows Charlie from under awning and up to Mike who sits on park bench next to Bob. Mike is pale, skinnier. Effects of chemo evident here. He stares vacantly at his )
CHARLIE: Mornin’, buddy.
MIKE: Oh…hey, Charlie.
(Bob moves from his seat to let Charlie sit. Charlie opens up his sack lunch)
BOB: Oh God, him.
CHARLIE: (slapping Mike’s back. Mike drops sandwich. Doesn’t bother to pick it back up) How you doing?
BOB: How does he think you’re doing?
MIKE: (mutters) Doing great.
(Charlie scooches up closer to Mike, examining him)
CHARLIE: Really? Cause you look a ‘lil pale. Little thinner, too. Work getting to ya? Gotta keep going, man, keep it up. You’re pretty good at this job, man, don’t screw up now. Gotta keep your eye on the prize; that internship. It could still be yours if that little collapse last week didn’t screw things up.
MIKE: Thanks for the advice, Charlie.
CHARLIE: Maybe you should spend some more time in the gym. Maybe go run around the parks like I do. Get yourself some sun.
BOB: (laughing in disgust) This guy cannot be serious.
CHARLIE: You know I heard Cheryl talking about you earlier today, said you were throwing up in the third floor bathroom. I tell ya, nothing gets by her—
MIKE: Charlie.
CHARLIE: Yeah, buddy?
(Mike stands and looks down at Charlie)
MIKE: Just shut your mouth. Please? Shut the fuck up. Please, for the love of God, (kicks rock up) quit being such a damn mouth-breather.
CHARLIE: (standing up) Whoa—
BOB: Damn, Michael! (follows Mike)
(Mike’s already on his way out, calling out his last words)
MIKE: And just so you know, I got the position days ago.

Scene: Convenience Store

(Mike walks up the steps towards the convenience store. Stops on step before entrance, wobbles slightly, holds his hand to his temples. Bob has been sitting on the steps also, not trying to rise, too sick to do so.
BOB: Can you feel that? That’s chemo.
SAM: Hey Mike, how you been?
MIKE: Okay.
SAM: You look a little tired.
MIKE: I know.
(Mike sets his items down on the counter)
SAM: So how’re things?
MIKE: Samantha, I’m sorry, but I can’t talk right now.
BOB: Gotta find a toilet?
SAM: Oh, that’s cool.
MIKE: Can you just ring me up?
(Sam begins ringing up his items)
SAM: Yeah…sure, Mike.
MIKE: Thanks.
(Mike drops his cash down on the counter and turns, leaving without saying goodbye or getting his change. Bob follows close behind.)
BOB: Better run.
(Mike makes halfway to his car before he stops and vomits. Bob leans against Mike’s car and watches Mike do his thing. Mike wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Looks up)
BOB: You should ask her out.
MIKE: Who?
BOB: That girl at the checkout counter. You only come here when she’s working.
MIKE: I do not.
BOB: Suit yourself. But I KNOW you like her. I can feel it.
MIKE: What does that mean? How do you know that?
(Bob approaches and leans in with his head right next to Mike’s. Whisper’s in Mike’s ear)
BOB: Because I’m in your brain.

Scene: Dr. Dovetail’s Office

(Dr. Dovetail sits across from Mike and Bob. Bob wears a normal set of clothes. No joke this time)
DR. DOVETAIL: Mr. Swan, I’m afraid I have bad news.
MIKE: Is it that my cancer’s spreading?
DR. DOVETAIL: (looks up, confused) Why yes…yes it is. You can tell?
MIKE: It is in my brain after all.
DR. DOVETAIL: (shocked, straightens tie) Well, yes, it is. And yes, the development is worse than I had expected.
BOB: I told you.
MIKE: That’s unfortunate. How bad is it?
BOB: Very.
DR. DOVETAIL: It’s serious, Mr. Swan.
MIKE: But it is treatable?
DR. DOVETAIL: (removing a folder with several reports inside) I’m afraid it’s not that simple.
(fade out, fade in)
MIKE: I thought it didn’t spread till stage four.
DR. DOVETAIL: It doesn’t.
(Mike shakes his head. Confused)
MIKE: You mean I skipped a stage?
DR. DOVETAIL: It just …took a turn for the worse.
MIKE: (growing angry) So you mean I skipped a stage and you didn’t tell me?
DR. DOVETAIL: It just happened fast, sometimes the outcome can change like that.
MIKE: (standing up) This isn’t a fucking sports game, Doc.
DR. DOVETAIL: It’s Dr. Dovetail.
MIKE: If I wanted to call you ‘Doctor’ I would have done that. Now tell me what happens next.
DR. DOVETAIL: Well...now we try and get your cancer’s growth under control.
MIKE: (shouting) I don’t want it under control, I want it gone! I want you to do your job. I want you to fix me!

Scene: Convenience Store

(Mike enters the store with Bob beside him. Sam sits behind counter dressed in a cheap pirate Halloween costume. Mike goes around grabbing items from the shelves he needs)
BOB: There’s a pirate behind that register.
SAM: Arrrrrrg! (Scratches the air with fake hook hand) Hey, Mike.
MIKE: Hey, Samantha. Nice pirate hat.
SAM: Thanks.
MIKE: What’s the occasion?
SAM: Uh…Halloween? It’s this month!
MIKE: Yeah, in like twenty nine days. They make you wear those things this early?
SAM: They don’t make us wear them at all.
BOB: Cheeky girl. I’ll be right back. (Bob steps off screen)
MIKE: Sorry about last time I was in here, kinda brushed you off.
SAM: It’s all good in the hood.
MIKE: Cute.
SAM: So what two things are you buying today?
MIKE: Four things, actually. (dumps his armload on counter)
SAM: Ooooh, big spender. Let’s see what you got.
MIKE: Aspirin, Pepto-Bismol, breath mints, aaaaand…some apples.
SAM: You okay?
MIKE: Yeah, just a touch of the flu. The October flu.
SAM: (fake grimace) I hear that’s a bad one.
MIKE: Like you wouldn’t believe.
SAM: You look a little tired, lost some weight?
MIKE: Been working out, curling the old ten pounders.
SAM: Manly man.
MIKE: Always.
(Bob steps on-screen also wearing pirate costume, shouts at Mike)
BOB: Will you just ask her out already, for Christ’s sake!
(Mike stares at Bob for a second, distracted. Sam cocks her head)
SAM: Uh...Mike?
MIKE: Yeah...yeah! But look, I was wondering, when I’m not busy or sick or curling children’s barbells, what say we maybe…uh, go get some food…or see a movie or something?
BOB: (leaning forward on the counter between the two) Michael Swan: Smooth Criminal.
SAM: Like a date?
MIKE: Like a date.
SAM: (smiling) Why, Mr. Swan, I thought you’d never ask.