Transcript: Blown Away
 

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Transcript Page 1

*Dawson's room, the wind blows through the window and knocks over a picture of Spielberg.*

Dawson: Wo. Well, so much for Twister. What's next?

Joey: I vote for the Poseidon Adventure.

Dawson: Yeah, but Towering Inferno has a higher body count.

Joey: They just burn. In the Poseidon Adventure, the deaths are much more interesting. Everything's upside down.

Dawson: Hey, it's time. Let's see if our disaster movie seance worked.

*Dawson turns to the news.*

*on tv*
Reporter: Good evening from the Weather Center, where we continue to track the progress if hurricane Chris, gaining momentum as it heads up the coast. Warnings for several local areas and even school cancellations. Local officials have gone ahead and cancelled classes for tomorrow in Yarmeth, North Falma, and Capeside.
*off tv*

*Dawson and Joey give each other high fives.*

Dawson: Score!

*on tv - Gail and Bob.*

Gail: Well, Bob, it looks like tomorrow would be a good day just to stay in bed.

Bob: You've got that right, Gail.

*Off tv.*

Dawson: God, could they be anymore obvious? So, Gail, what are your current views on the situation in Bosnia? Will you be jumping my bones after the broadcast?

*Dawson shuts off the tv.*

Joey: Does your mom know you know?

Dawson: No.

Joey: Your dad?

Dawson: We're finally clueless.

Joey: So. Paul Newman or Gene Hackman?

Dawson: You know, Jo, I'm a little tired, do you mind if I sack?

*Joey starts putting on her shoes*

Joey: You know you're going to have to deal with this, Dawson.

Dawson: Everything's postponed because of the hurricane, my life included.

Joey: Your life is a hurricane.

Dawson: No metaphors Joey, it's too late.

Joey: Later.

Dawson: I'll see you tomorrow, Joey.

Joey: Dawson?

Dawson: Yeah?

Joey: Fasten your seat belt, it's going to be a bumpy life.

*Dawson watches his mom and Bob on tv*

*Dawson's Creek theme*

*CUT TO the Leery kitchen.*

Gail: *on phone* Well, I guess if it was the Capeside bake off then I would be your man. No, I'm not trying to be sarcastic I'm trying to be a reporter. Fine, Jim. If anybody needs be I'll be right here...darning my husband's socks. *She hangs up.* Unbelievable.

Mitch: I take it they're not letting you cover the hurricane.

Gail: Of course not. I'm missing a certain appendage between my legs that apparently uniquely qualifies someone to cover inclimate weather.

Mitch: Well, me & my appendage are both thrilled that you will be here safe, where you belong.

*They kiss as Dawson is walking in.*

Dawson: Alright, flashlight, candles, cold shower, and batteries.

Mitch: Thanks, Dawson. I'm going to run next door and check on Jen and Mrs. Ryan, extend an invitation to them to ride out the storm.

Dawson: Okay.

*He leaves.*

Dawson: Dad's a great guy, isn't he? Maybe on the Tom Hanks/Harrison Ford idealistic side, but solid like a rock.

Gail: Without question.

Dawson: And faithful. Even to a fault.

Gail: Mm-hm.

Dawson: So who's covering hurricane Chris?

Gail: Bob got the gig.

Dawson: Ah, that Bob. He's on top of it.

Gail: He's a great guy.

Dawson: Dad's a great guy. Bob's the anchorman.

Gail: Um, honey, did you secure the front porch?

Dawson: I'll get right on it. Gotta get ready for hurricane Bob.

Gail: Hurricane Chris.

Dawson: Oh, that's right. Chris is the hurricane, Bob's the anchorman.

*Dawson leaves.*

Gail: Oh, boy...

*CUT TO Doug and Pacey on the beach.*

Pacey: I just want it noted that I am here under complete diress.

Doug: Oh just stop your punk ass whining.

Pacey: School's out today. It's my one chance to sleep in, catch up on my soaps, enjoy the storm.

Doug: Hey, Dad's orders.

Pacey: Dad's orders. You say that with such a lapdog enthusiasm.

Doug: You know I'm gonna kick your ass.

Pacey: Oh, you're so butch, Dougie.

Doug: Oh, screw you.

Pacey: Doug, you're going to have to learn how to process these hostile outbursts of rage. I mean, any therapist is going to tell you that these are just mere repression tactics to mask your true homosexual desires.

Doug: Just because I'm pretty, doesn't mean I'm gay. I happen to be the straightest guy I know.

Pacey: Oh, really? I think your CD collection would contradict that. Barbra Streissand...the soundtrack to Les Mis...

Doug: I have any interesting and soft complexity.

Pacey: You know what, Doug? You don't have to defend yourself to me. I'm on your side. I just want you to live a happy and, uh, fruitful life.

Doug: You know, women happen to love my CD collection.

Pacey: Answer me this, why did you choose a profession that requires you to dress like one of the Village People?

Doug: I choose to wear a badge because our father, the chief of police in Capeside, instilled in me a sense in duty and a belief in justice.

Pacey: Right. Which makes it all the harder for you to come out, I understand that Doug. You know I'm sure there are support groups for gay officers.

Doug: Listen Pacey, I am not gay.

*CUT TO Joey's house.*

Bodie: You're wobbling (?). We already agreed on this.

Bessie: It's mutilation.

Bodie: Yeah..

Bessie: Studies show that the trauma of having your genitals sliced can have a lasting effect until adulthood.

Bodie: Trust me. If I was conscious of it, I would most definitely remember it.

Joey: You know, Junior's *missed the word* will be a non-issue if we all blow away in a typhoon.

Bodie: It's just a warning. These things never come this far north.

Joey: Well, I vote we go to Dawson's.

Bessie: Hey, actually, that's not a bad idea.

Bodie: Don't change the subject. This kid is being circumsized.

Bessie: No, he's not.

Bodie: Just because you're pregnant, don't think you're going to get the last word on this.

Bessie: Watch me.

*CUT TO Pacey walking towards Tamara's*

Pacey: Tammy! Tamara.

Tamara: Hi!

*Pacey tries to get closer to her.*

Tamara: No, don't!

*Doug appears.*

Doug: Backside's all done. Yo, Pace, give me a hand here.

Tamara: It's good to see you, Pacey. Your brother was kind enough to help me secure the place.

Pacey: Oh, yeah, he's a great guy.

Tamara: So, how's your homework coming? Hope this bad weather's giving you a chance to catch up on your reading.

Doug: Are you kidding? The guy's a goof. He hasn't cracked a book since 3rd grade.

Tamara: Oh, really. Then, you'd be pleased. Your brother's doing quite well, Officer Witter.

Doug: Oh, please, call me Doug.

Tamara: Okay.

Doug: And I can call you?

Pacey: Miss Jacobs will be fine.

Tamara: Or Tamara, whatever you like.

Doug: Tamara.

*Lightning*

Tamara: Ahh. I'm sorry. I hate storms. I really don't do well at all in bad weather.

Doug: Well, we'll have to do something about that.

*Pacey glares at him.*

*CUT TO Mrs. Ryan and Jen entering the Leery porch.*

Mrs. Ryan: I've weathered more storms in my time than you can count.

Mitch: Humor me. I'll feel a lot better if you guys are over here with us.

Mrs. Ryan: If the Lord decides to blow my house away, so be it.

Jen: Oh, Grams, I forgot to tell you. The Lord sent a fax when you were out. Something about the armageddon...

*Mrs. Ryan and Mitch enter the house and Jen hangs back with Dawson.*

Jen: Hey stranger.

Dawson: Hey. I heard your Grandfather's back in the hospital, I'm sorry.

Jen: Oh, yeah, they're just running some tests, he'll be okay. Makes Grams kind of anxious though. Well, how are you doing?
Dawson: Good.

Jen: Okay. Can I give you a hand with something?

Dawson: No, I'm cool, thanks.

Jen: You're being cold to me Dawson.

Dawson: No, I'm--

Jen: I mean, it's not judgement or anything, it's just an observation. Do you want to talk about this?

Dawson: It's got nothing to do with you, us, I've just got a big to-do list in my head. Really.

Jen: Sure.

*She walks inside.*

*Leery living room. The news is on.*

Mitch: Alright, everyone. Make yourselves at home. I'm gonna fix up some lunch.

Bessie: That's so kind of you. We really appreciate it.

Mitch: No problem. Mrs. Ryan, do you know--

Mrs.Ryan: We've met. You're Bessie, Joey's unmarried sister.

Bessie: And this is Bodie.

Mrs. Ryan: Mm-hm.

Bodie: Mm-hm.

*CUT TO Mrs. Leery sitting on the steps talking to Bob.*

Gail: *on phone* Thank you, Walter Cronkite. May I remind you who won the local Emmy and the Golden Desk award, hmm?

*CUT TO Dawson watching and listening to Mrs. Leery on the phone.*

Gail: *still on phone* Bad boy. You just be careful out there. I'd like you back in one piece. Okay. *makes kissing noises into the phone.*

*Dawson comes down the stairs purposely being loud so she knows that he knows about her affair.*

Gail: Um, I'll call you back. *she hangs up.*

Dawson: Got a new award for you Mom. It's not a trophy though. It comes in the form of an A. And you have to stitch it right here. Congratulations.

*CUT TO Mrs. Leery chasing after Dawson.*

Gail: Dawson, honey, we need to talk.

Dawson: About what? The weather?

Gail: Honey, um, I know you must be really angry right now. And it is completely justifiable.

Dawson: Save it.

Gail: Honey, please, hear me out.

Dawson: Mom.

Gail: I love your father. Now I know that may seem a little hypocritical at the moment but what is happening between Bob and I...

Dawson: Bob and me. Bob and I is gramatically incorrect.

Gail: If you let me, I might be able to help you understand this.

Dawson: Understand what? The complicated mind of an adultress? Do you have some new earthshattering rationale on why you're breaking the sacred vows of marriage? It's pretty straight forward, isn't it?

Gail: No it isn't. There are reasons.

Dawson: Reasons? Boredom maybe? Look, why don't you pull the 'I'm 40 now it's time to be selfish, life has passed me by' crap.

Gail: Would you let me explain?

Dawson: What? Mom, go for it. Explain purge. But purge the right person. I'm the son. There's a whole missing element here, I think it's downstairs, and it has a name. Husband, spouse, mate, better half. Any of those ring a bell?

*He walks off to his room and slams the door finding Jen.*

Jen: Are you okay?

Dawson: I don't get it. I have these two adolescent parents that bump like rabbits everyday of their life. You'd think that would be enough. Evidently Dad couldn't keep up and Mom just said 'Hey!'

Jen: Don't Dawson. These things have very little to do with sex.

Dawson: Is the proposition of monogomy such a Jurassic notion? I mean, is it no longer reasonable to think that two people can be enough for each other their entire lives?

Jen: I don't know.

Dawson: Maybe it's chemical. Maybe it's some kind of hormonal imbalance that causes one to fornicate with their coworkers. Maybe it's not just Bob. Maybe it includes the whole 6 and 11 action news team.

Jen: Your mother is a good woman.

Dawson: You defend her, you would it makes sense.

Jen: Excuse me?

Dawson: You heard me.

Jen: Yeah and you better clarify yourself right now before I rip your head off.

Dawson: I'm simply remarking who better to understand a woman's need to have multiple partners.

Jen: Being that I've slept with half of New York?

Dawson: I didn't say that.

Jen: We're not all as *missed word* as you Dawson. Some of us aren't imaginary characters in a Spielberg film, some of us live in reality.

*Jen leaves and Dawson flops down on his bed when he hears a sneeze from the direction of the closet.*

Dawson: Don't even tell me.

*He opens the closet door to find Joey.*

Joey: Don't mind me. Just passing through.

Dawson: I can't escape. What are you doing in there?

Joey: Just regressing for a moment. Remember how we used to play in there when we were kids? We'd reenact the whole third act from Jaws.

Dawson: Not now, Joey.

Joey: Come on, you'd be Captain Quin (?) and I'd be Cooper and Sheriff Brody. We knew all the lines by heart.

Dawson: We're not kids anymore Joey.

Joey: But wouldn't it be nice? Oh, right, it's up there with sleeping over on the we're too old for this list. I see. Look I know you're still mad at me for lying to you. Even if you won't admit it there's residue all over your face.

Dawson: Look, maybe you better go, Joey. My verbal vomit's out of control today.

Joey: I know what you're going through Dawson. You're struggling to find answers. You want to know why she's cheating but it's all perception Dawson. Let me just offer the one ounce of wisdom I can bring to this table. You know instead of asking why your mother's doing all these horrible things, may I suggest that you get down on your knees and thank God that you have a mother!

*She walks to the door.*

Dawson: Joey...

Joey: Sorry, Dawson, I forgot for a second. This isn't about me.

Blown Away Part II

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