Happy Trails! 703.623.1879! mandell81@gmail.com! 111 1/2 S. Flores St! Los Angeles, CA 90048! WGA#1582879! 2014 by Michael Mandell
Praise for Happy Trails: "I've known Michael Mandell for years; he's always been great." -Diane Mandell, Michael's Aunt "What a clever idea." -Francesca Rapaport, Plumber's Assistant "Spare some change?" -Elliot Gorbinplotz, Homeless Man "This is something everyone thinks about." -Tom Dietz, Mindreader "Adequate." -Peg Hinkley, Critical Jerk
2. Happy Trails by Michael Mandell INT. COSTCO -- NIGHT FRIEDMAN, 42, wanders the aisles of the wholesale megastore. He has no groceries. He has no cart. He's just there for free samples. It's dinner time. He stops for a cocktail weenie. The SAMPLE LADY smiles when she sees him. Hey, Mitch. SAMPLE LADY Hi, Linda. Cocktail weenies, eh? Don't mind if I do. Mitch spears a weenie with a toothpick and bites into it, only he mishandles the toothpick and it gets stuck in his throat. He chokes; reaches for it deep inside his mouth; clutches at his neck; spins around a few times; knocks a bunch of stuff off the shelves; and falls down dead. A CROWD gathers around him. FADE IN: INT. COSTCO -- NIGHT FADE OUT: Mitch wakes. He grabs at his neck, which no longer hurts. He extracts the toothpick from his mouth. The crowd is still hovering over him, except now it's a different crowd. The new crowd consists of DEAD FAMILY MEMBERS (including his dad, ; his mom, ; four GRANDPARENTS; and a multitude of ANCESTORS from generations past he's never met in period garb). The hell? Close... Dad? Mom! Hello, honey. His parents help him to his feet. (CONT'D) Welcome to Heaven.
3. They give him a big hug. I'm sorry? This is it. You made it. We weren't expecting you so soon. I must be dreaming. This is a dream. I'm afraid not. But I was just-- Mitch, you remember your grandparents, don't you? Harriet pushes Mitch's grandparents into view. They hug Mitch. Grammy! Grampa! Bubbie! Zayda! GRAMMY You should be more careful. GRAMPA The last time I saw you you were this tall. BUBBIE Hello, sonny. ZAYDA Sorry for your loss, kid. And those are your ancestors. They don't speak English so good. 'S ANCESTORS all say hello in unison (in various Eastern European languages). Mitch waves back. So, this is really Heaven? That's right.
4. Which would make me dead. Correct. Death by toothpick. Not a bad way to go. Better than Thyroid Cancer, you can take my word for it. Again with the Thyroid. Try Pancreatic. Four percent success rate! There's Costco in Heaven? Oh, yes. We have all the same stores you had. Heaven's basically a mirror image of Earth. Right, except cheaper, cleaner, and everyone's dead. Mitch looks around for his better half, but she's nowhere to be found. Where's Denise? (avoiding) We haven't seen her., a pervy but innocent, ghetto-fabulous, little Pakistani-American nerd in his thirties, pushes his way through the crowd toward Mitch. They shake hands. 'Scuse me, 'scuse me, sorry, 'scuse me. Yo yo yo, my name's Hussein and I'll be your Heaven concierge! My what? Your Heaven concierge, dog. Each newdead gets one till they're on their feet. I'll show you the ropes, but first I gotta get you checked in down at the DHS.
5. The what? Department of Heavenly Souls. Follow me. Hussein starts walking off. Mitch looks back at his mother. Go, go, it's okay, we'll catch up with you later. Mitch pockets the toothpick and follows after Hussein. EXT. HEAVEN STREETS -- NIGHT Hussein leads Mitch down the steep city block. It's our first good look at the streets of Heaven, or at least this section of Heaven. As Mitch lived in San Francisco, we're in Heaven San Francisco. INT. DHS The place looks like the DMV, and is no less a disorganized, inefficient zoo. It's overflowing with PEOPLE of all religions. Hussein and Mitch wait in line to take a number and a seat. AUTOMATED VOICE (V.O.) Now serving N two seven one. Now serving E zero three nine. Now serving V six two two. This place is worse than the DMV. Some things don't change. So, what do you think, so far? Of? Heaven. Not what I imagined. I get that a lot. How'd you imagine it? They move up a few spots in line.
6. I always thought it'd look more like Hawaii, actually. Oh, we have Hawaii here. It's just a plane ride away. Let me know if I can get you some tickets. Remember, I am a concierge. There's planes in Heaven? Of course, but in Heaven you can keep your electronics on for takeoff and landing. Also, you don't have to take your shoes off through security. Nice. Mitch is preoccupied. He scans the crowd. Still no Denise. They move up a few spots. Scopin' babes? What? I'm looking for my wife. Your wife's dead, too? Damn! How'd she go? Hit by a bus five years ago. Same age as you? Just about. So young. Most of the people here are a bit older. I noticed. There's only one other person in the room under 70. AUTOMATED VOICE (V.O.) Now serving H seven one four.
7. They make it to the front desk where a fat, no nonsense, black lady, GLORIA, is seated. (Mr. Charming) Hey, boo, how you doin' today? Gloria rolls her eyes. Hussein, shot down for the umpteenth time today, clears his throat. (CONT'D) Anyways, I got Mitch Friedman here to check in. Gloria staples a number to a form and hands it to Hussein on a clipboard. GLORIA Take a seat. Fill this out. When yo number's called you gonn' come back up. Hussein and Mitch walk off. INT. 'S APARTMENT -- NIGHT Hussein shows Mitch into his apartment. They take a tour. Still no sign of Denise. So, this is your apartment, but you already knew that. It's identical to your old place, only I took the liberty of doing your dishes and taking the trash out. I go the extra mile. That's just me. Mitch looks sick to his stomach. His face is sweating. (CONT'D) Everything okay, dog? Huh? Oh. Yeah, Hussein. Everything's fine. No, actually, what am I talking about? Everything is not okay, Hussein. It's your wife, isn't it? I just don't get it. I figured she'd be waiting for me here, you know?
8. (lost in fantasy) Yeah, yeah, like in sexy lingerie on the bed, gettin' all sensual, lickin' her lips, squeezin' them titties. Whoa. (snapping out of it) Did I say that last part out loud? I just meant cause it's been so long for you guys. (reverting back to pervy fantasy) I know you're ready to smash that shit, have her beggin' for mercy, fuckin' rip that fallopian tube in half! Whoa! I did it again, didn't I? Yeah! I should get going. Let me know if you need anything. Hussein leaves his business card on the kitchen counter and exits. INT. 'S APARTMENT -- BEDROOM It's 3:07 am. The lights are off. Mitch can't sleep. He's tossing and turning in bed. The sound of pebbles, one by one, being tossed at the window from the street below, jars him out of bed. He turns on a lamp and walks to the window. When he opens it, he's promptly nailed in the face by a handful of pebbles. Jesus! Sorry! Denise! Thank God. I'll buzz you up.
Mitch runs to the front hallway and buzzes Denise into the building. Realizing he's only in boxers, he runs back to the bedroom to dress himself. This is a big moment. He throws on a pair of pants and a tee shirt. He checks himself in the mirror. Disliking what he sees, he removes the shirt. He puts on a different shirt. This one's a button up. He quickly buttons the buttons. He checks himself again, but now he finds fault in his pants, so he removes them and puts on a pair of shorts. He runs to the door right as Denise knocks on it from the other side. He takes a deep breath and opens up. Denise enters. They hug an eternity. (CONT'D) I was beginning to worry. 9. About what? That I wouldn't see you again. Why wouldn't you see me again? I don't know. Everyone else was there when I died. I thought maybe you went to--nevermind, it doesn't matter. No, tell me. It's stupid. Forget it. They break off from each other. C'mon, I wanna know. You thought I went to... Hell, okay? I thought maybe you went to Hell. (laughing) I didn't go to Hell, Mitch. I'm a good girl, remember? Well, where have you been? Didn't you miss me?
10. Of course I missed you. Denise notices a shelf overflowing with photos of herself in the foyer. (CONT'D) (re: photos) My goodness, you're obsessed. Oh. Yeah. I guess I am. They break off from each other. Mitch pulls Denise into the living room. I mean it's flattering. I just--it's a little stalky. I guess I shouldn't show you my tattoo, then. You'd really think I'm a creep. You got a tattoo? Of me? Where is it? My back. Well, what are you waiting for? Take your shirt off. I gotta see it. Mitch takes off his shirt and turns around, revealing a gigantic tattoo of Denise's face on his back. (CONT'D) Wow. That is a giant backtat of my face. You like it? It's, uh, I mean, chin's off a little. I know. Tattoo artist sneezed on me. It all worked out though, he gave me a discount. He puts his shirt back on.