I Actually Do Things! Part Five, The Revenge

1 Dec

… Don’t you DARE judge me, dammit. Look, my life just got suddenly very busy, so unless you want a string of posts of nothing but crude drawings of dicks, you’ll get to read this!

(Bonus Round: Find all of the references in this script!)


[Cut to Alice laying in her appropriated office chair, resting her head on the folders as she sleeps. It’s morning now, and we can see the bright light shining through the window. It’s still snowing outside. Molly steps through the office door, taking quiet steps, and we see her shadow fall menacingly across Alice as she enters, until she places coffee and a danish on a table with a clatter, awakening Alice with a start.]

ALICE: What the fuc- [noticing Molly] Oh! Um, hello! Please tell me that coffee is for me, oh paragon of decency.

MOLLY: Yes, yes, the coffee is for you, as well as the danish.

ALICE: Marry me, right now, bended knee and everything. [starts digging into the danish and coffee]

MOLLY: Nah, you and coffee seem really happy, I don’t want to get in the way of that.

ALICE: [smiles] I guess the night staff told you I was here?

MOLLY: No, Director Carpenter did, actually. [pauses, thinks for a moment] Is it true you’re working to solve the murder?

ALICE: Heh, I guess so. Did you know the suspect?

MOLLY: Not really, he’d only started working here a while ago. He seemed… nice? Quiet? I never got the impression he’d… do that. But I guess working here got to him. You never really know what’ll drive somebody to kill.

ALICE: [staring out the window] Maybe.

MOLLY: What was that?

ALICE: Oh, nothing. [shakes her head] Um, miss…

MOLLY: I guess you never did get my name. It’s Molly.

ALICE: Molly, have you ever been in Disturbed Patient Ward? Specifically, cell 16?

MOLLY: No, I’ve just been working with Justine. How come? Is it related to the case?

ALICE: Heh, probably not. [thinks for a moment] But if you have a moment today, could you find me a file on somebody named Oliver Mandus?

MOLLY: Um. I have no idea! I… I could try? [looks to the ground, nervous] If you’re going to be here for a little while longer, a- are you going to check in with your sister again?

ALICE: [freezes, feeling tense and guilty] I- I guess I probably should, huh.

MOLLY: I don’t want to stress you out, it’s just-

ALICE: No, no, I get it. [looks down at cup] I am allowed to bring the coffee in, right?

MOLLY: Yes, of course.

ALICE: [sounding tired and resigned] Marry me, bended knee, etcetera.


[Alice enters Justine’s room, with the room virtually unchanged from her previous visit. This time, the radio is playing “Strangers In The Night”, Frank Sinatra. Only this time, her current painting is farther along. It’s as abstract as the rest, composed of sweeping lines and jagged edges, but Justine seems almost angry and frustrated at it. Alice steps inside, and leans against the door.]

ALICE: Hey, kiddo.

[Justine looks around in confusion, and when she sees Alice, she looks almost terrified.]

ALICE: Work has… come up, so I think I’m going to be in town for a few more days. Might come in and say hi a few more times.

JUSTINE: Hate. Hate. Hate it.

ALICE: What’s that?

JUSTINE: Hate it when you leave.

ALICE: That’s- [takes a moment to contain herself] Why’s that?

JUSTINE: That’s when they take me apart.

ALICE: Nobody is going to take you apart.

JUSTINE: They want me. Open me up, crawl inside. Please don’t leave.

[Alice freezes, and holds her hand against her mouth, letting her tears well up. Justine goes back to painting, while Alice struggles with the door to let herself out.]


[Alice is walking away from Justine’s room, getting herself under control, when Rothko walks up. He’s just as well dressed as yesterday, and waves before talking.]

ROTHKO: Detective Glass.

ALICE: I- oh, right, Rothko. Um. Hi.

ROTHKO: I’m- I’m sorry, miss, are you crying?

ALICE: No, my liquid awesome is just escaping from my eyes. Jesus- just, just give me a second, keep talking.

ROTHKO: Well, we called your supervisors, and they had nothing but the shiniest of recommendations.

ALICE: [deadpan] It’s all a lie, I didn’t do any of it. Except for the stuff that sounds cool, that I did the hell out of. Am I officially on the case?

ROTHKO: Yes, but Director Carpenter wants to talk to you before we get started.

ALICE: Oh, right, I think I heard one of the orderlies mention him. Anything I should know?

ROTHKO: Old, white, mild to moderately annoying. He’s nice enough, I suppose, unless he thinks it’s even slightly more convenient to be an ass.

ALICE: Sounds like a charmer.

ROTHKO: Word of advice, use a soft touch. He is very protective of Alto Clef, and would react to any and all attacks very personally.

ALICE: Oh, please, I am diplomatic as balls.


[Jump cut to Alice and Rothko sitting in Carpenter’s office. It’s decorated with ornate wood paneling, and covered with ornate decorations and antiques. Carpenter himself is behind his desk, and is very old money, the kind of man who is the most powerful man in the room, and knows it.]

CARPENTER: Miss Glass, thank you for helping with that bit of… unpleasantness yesterday.

ALICE: Oh, it’s no problem, sir. I have some experience in that field.

CARPENTER: Heh, as I’d imagine. I hope you’re not under the impression that that’s how we normally operate here.

ALICE: Actually, Mr. Carpenter, that’s why we’re here.

ROTHKO: We believe that the increase of homicides in recent memory is… anomalous, and we feel further investigation is warranted.

CARPENTER: Mr. Rothko, you of all people should know that we’ve caught the killers in each case. Hell, they confessed. How could there be anything else here?

ROTHKO: We don’t know, sir.

ALICE: Hence the use of the word “anomalous”.

CARPENTER: [dirty glare] Look, here are Alto Clef, we are aware of the social stigma of psychiatric foundations, and we are working to have that changed. We are a place of healing and we need people to recognize that. And having a murder investigation is not going to help.

ALICE: And I’m sure having all of your patients drop dead is definitely going to help, right?

ROTHKO: [rubs bridge of nose] Please stop antagonizing the person we’re trying to help, Detective Glass.

ALICE: Look, Director, we’re not asking for much. Just let us have a look at your records, and maybe a few all-nighters, and we’ll see if there’s anything we can do to help. Hell, if nothing else, you can put “actually tried to stop murderers” on your brochures.

CARPENTER: Is that seriously your damned sales pitch? Miss Glass, please.

ROTHKO: Sir, please. We’re just trying to help.

ALICE: I mean- jesus, man. [quiet] My sister is in here.

CARPENTER: [thinks furiously] Neither of you are allowed to let a word of this out, understood? And I’m keeping your firearms here, under lock and key. And I don’t want to hear you talking to a single patient without our express permission. These people are trying to get better, and raising a panic over some kind of phantom killer will not help.

ROTHKO: Sir, yes sir. [fake smile]


[Alice is in her appropriated office, pouring over the folders, while Rothko stands awkwardly.]

ALICE: Okay, so what do we know?

ROTHKO: … Why don’t I get a chair?

ALICE: Only cool people get chairs.

[Rothko awkwardly pulls a tiny and rickety chair from the corner and sits down.]

ROTHKO: Did you learn anything new last night?

ALICE: [pretending not to hear him] Hrm?

ROTHKO: Last night, your little all-nighter. Did you come to any conclusions?

ALICE: I- maybe. I dunno. [quiet for a moment] Did you ever investigate an Oliver Mandus?

ROTHKO: No, I don’t think I’ve ever heard the name before. Who is he?

ALICE: Not quite sure. I just found… oh, never mind, I’ll know soon enough. Molly is bringing his file over.

ROTHKO: Who’s Molly? Somebody I’d know?

ALICE: An orderly, she’s been looking after my sister.

ROTHKO: Oh. right. [awkward] Why is your sister in here?

ALICE: Um. Schizophrenia, we think.

ROTHKO: Oh, I’m… I’m sorry.

ALICE: [deadpan] And that’s what led to my decision to become a cop and fight crime.

ROTHKO: … Wait, really?

ALICE: No, you dork. How about you? Any big origin story?

ROTHKO: Not really. Just wanted to do some good.

ALICE: Have you managed any?

ROTHKO: A fair bit, yeah.

ALICE: [sarcastic] Oh, Elliot! You’re so noble, my panties are suddenly so wet!

[Rothko tosses a pencil at her as they both laugh. It misses, but she ducks anyway. After laughing for a while, she gets quiet and looks away.]

ALICE: I found something yesterday. In the disturbed patient ward.

ROTHKO: What was it?

ALICE: I don’t have a clue. Oliver Mandus, supposedly, but he seemed [pauses for a moment, as though she’s considering her words carefully] off. He talked about killing people. Said he was responsible for the murders.

ROTHKO: Do you believe him?

ALICE: I know I shouldn’t. It’s stupidly impossible, there’s no way somebody in a locked cell could have committed the murders- hell, I broke the murderer’s arm yesterday.

ROTHKO: Heh. And yet-

ALICE: And yet here we are. We wouldn’t even be in here if “stupidly impossible” wasn’t on the menu.

[The two get quiet, as they look out the window to the snow storm outside.]

ROTHKO: Looks like the storm is picking up.

ALICE: Heh. Isn’t it just.


[Molly slowly opens the door to the office, and we see Rothko and Alice working, reading aloud from the files, bouncing ideas of each other.]

ALICE: Blood types?

ROTHKO: AB, A positive, B-

ALICE: Gotcha, no sell.

ROTHKO: Family history?

ALICE: Hmm. Each one is an orderly or a volunteer, could be a pattern.

ROTHKO: Any history of mental illness?

ALICE: Apparently, one of them had a slight mental breakdown years beforehand, a delivery driver by the name of- um, Scott Bakula?

ROTHKO: Not the actor.

ALICE: Well, that’s disappointing. Okay, so if he was just a delivery driver, he didn’t spend much time here?

ROTHKO: Apparently not. So if there is a pattern, it’s not time based.

MOLLY: Erm, special delivery?

[Alice and Molly finally notice her.]

ALICE: Oh! Hey, Molly. Um, have you met Detective Rothko?

MOLLY: [giggly smile] Hello, sir, very nice to meet you.

ROTHKO: [charming grin] Charmed, miss.

ALICE: Yeah, yeah, make googly eyes at each other later. Do you have the file on Mandus?

MOLLY: [blushing and flustered] O- oh! Yes, h- here you go. [hands the file to Alice] S- so, do you have any ideas yet?

ROTHKO: So far, we’ve ruled pretty much everything out but hair colour.

ALICE: [distracted by the folder] Nah, the guy whose arm I broke was a ginger.

ROTHKO: Learning anything in the file?

ALICE: Nothing too interesting. Born 1982, October 16, blah blah blah, eye colour, hair colour, institutionalized a week before the first murder, what a surprise… huh. Joined the military, apparently. Got deployed in Afghanistan in early 2002.

MOLLY: Oh, that poor man. 

ALICE: [under her breath] Sand and blood. Metaphor. Heh.

ROTHKO: What was that?

ALICE: [faking a smile] Nothing, nothing! Um, does anyone want coffee? I wanna go get coffee! I think there’s a Timmy’s right down the street, I’ll be right back!

MOLLY: Oooh, bundle up, it’s cold out there!

ROTHKO: Mind fetching me something with pumpkin spice?

ALICE: Sure, sure, be right back!

[Alice quickly gathers her coat and runs out the room.]

MOLLY: She’s… she’s going to go see that Mandus guy, isn’t she.

ROTHKO: I hope not, I want pumpkin spice.

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