INT. BASEMENT OF SMALL BUNGALOW HOME – DAY

WOMEN congregate in a basement decked out with baby shower décor (stork cutouts, blue and pink streamers, baby cutouts, rattles, etc.).

MICHELLE, a thirty-something career woman, cautiously walks down the stairwell and peers around the corner into the basement to see a small group of chatty MOTHERS surrounding a food table filled to the brim with decadent delights (chocolate fountain, exotic fruits, crab cakes, sushi, etc.).

JEANNIE, a young mother, shows cell phone pictures of her son to the rest of the group.

JEANNIE

Okay, so, here’s little Joey with the azalea.

WOMEN

Awh.

Michelle strolls over to the food table and works her way through the group. She gawks at the table with intense desire.

JEANNIE

Now, here he is on the floor. Oh, and here we are in the emergency room... (proudly) his first visit.

WOMEN

Awh.

Michelle starts shoveling hors d’oeuvres onto her plate. She takes a bite of a crab cake.

MICHELLE

(to herself)

Holy shit, these crab cakes are fantastic.

Jeannie stops and slowly spins around.

JEANNIE

I’m sorry. And you are?

Michelle brushes off her hand and extends it toward LYNETTE, another mother.

MICHELLE

Michelle.

Ignoring her gesture, Lynette psychotically looks Michelle up and down and sniffs her.

LYNETTE

(sniffing)

You don’t smell like baby powder, cheerios, (takes a long whiff) ... or stale formula. Do you have little ones at home?

MICHELLE

No. I don’t. Why?

CHARLOTTE

Can’t you read? Or has the lack of progesterone production made you stupid?

JEANNIE

This section is for mothers only. Others belong in that section.

Jeannie points across the room to the other side of the basement which is divided into two halves by a tattered rope. SIGNS hang on the wall. On one side it says “Mothers,” on the other side it says “Others.”

MICHELLE

But I ....

LYNETTE

What’s wrong with you anyway?

CHARLOTTE

Go! Get out of here! You infer-tile. You abomination.

The rest of the women chime in, goading her over to the other side. Charlotte rips the food out of Michelle’s hand and pushes her.

MICHELLE

(muttering to herself)

What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you? Bunch of lactating psychos.

Michelle steps over the rope into the dirty, dark, and cramped “Others” section. A creepy, green fluorescent light flickers overhead.

She walks over to the “Others” food table which consists of a single aluminum PAN OF PASTA and a PLATE OF STALE COOKIES.

She picks up a plate, scoops up some mostaccioli from the pan, and drops it on her plate in a sticky CLUMP. The clumps rolls off the plate and onto the floor.

Michelle shudders, drops the plate, and walks over to the group of women sitting in the corner: TWO OLD WOMEN, a BUTCH LESBIAN, and CRAZY AUNT BEA. They sit in silence, staring ahead gumming their mostaccioli.

MICHELLE

(to the group)

This is awful.

Nobody responds.

MICHELLE

What do you say we sneak over to the other side and dip into the chocolate fountain?

Nobody responds.

MICHELLE

Come on, we deserve the right to better food.

OLD WOMAN

Do you have children?

MICHELLE

No.

All turn their backs to Michelle except Bea who leans toward Michelle. Bea motions to Michelle who promptly leans forward.

BEA

(carefully whispers)

Do you have any mari-jua-na?

Michelle gazes at Bea confused.

MICHELLE

Look. This is the 21st century.

Michelle angrily paces back and forth.

MICHELLE (CONT’D)

Mothers. Others. We need to show those Boob Nazis...

A loud GROWL is heard. Michelle jumps back startled by the angry GERMAN SHEPARD tied to the support beam guarding the entrance to the “Mothers” side.

MICHELLE

As I was saying, it shouldn’t matter if...

Michelle grabs a COOKIE from the “Others” table, stands back, and hesitantly throws it at the dog. The dog eats it.

MICHELLE (CONT’D)

We choose to procreate or not. We deserve the same rights and privileges as everyone else when it comes to our food choices.

Dog starts dry heaving and vomits up the cookie. Michelle looks at the dog disgusted.

MICHELLE

See? Not even fit for dogs. Forget this.

Michelle indignantly steps over the rope, into the “Mothers” side, and walks over to the food table. Chatting and laughing, the group of mothers congregates in the corner. Michelle grabs a plate and loads up on food.

MICHELLE

(putting the food on her plate)

Mmm. Truffle canapés, prosciutto, brie en croute... ooh tiramisu...

As the women laugh, Jeannie turns around and notices Michelle sneaking food.

JEANNIE

What do you think you’re doing?!

The rest of the women turn around.

JEANNIE

This is for mothers only! Mothers only!

CHARLOTTE

We don’t feed your kind here.

MICHELLE

Hey, at least, I don’t carry the perpetual stench of baby poop around with me. Yeah, that’s right. I said it. Y’all stink like a sewage treatment plant in mid-July.

JEANNIE

Get her!

LYNETTE

Baby-hater!

The women charge, throwing PACIFIERS and BOTTLES at Michelle. Enveloping her in a dog pile, one woman picks up a DIAPER GENIE and bashes it over Michelle’s head. Another wraps a SECURITY BLANKET around Michelle’s neck choking her.

After some struggle, Michelle finally wrestles herself away from the group.

MICHELLE

Listen. This is insane. Just because I can’t have children...

JEANNIE

You can’t have children?

MICHELLE

My uterus possesses more hostility than a feminist running a marathon without a bra.

ALL

Awwh. Nooo.

The women gather around and console Michelle.

JEANNIE

We’re so sorry.

LYNETTE

Here sit down. Have some pecan-caramel cheesecake.

CHARLOTTE

Salmon roulade?

The women sit Michelle down and start handing her food. Michelle, shrugs, sits back, and happily gorges herself on the hors d’oeuvres.

JEANNIE

So, when do you plan to start looking into adoption?

LYNETTE

Or surrogacy? I know this great...

MICHELLE

I’m not.

CHARLOTTE

But you said...

MICHELLE

(continuing to eat)

Barren and loving it. Can you pass me the chanterelle mushroom custard?

ALL

(simultaneously)

What? What are you talking about? How dare you?

In an uproar, the women knock the plate out of Michelle’s hand. Michelle looks around confused. As a group, they lift her from the chair, carry her across the room, and throw her over the rope to the “Others” side. Michelle lands face down on the floor.

Out of the corner of her eye, Michelle spies a crab cake. She reaches for it when, suddenly, the dog runs over, grabs the cake, and runs away. Michelle pounds her fist on the floor.

MICHELLE

Disenfranchised by a dog.

BLACKOUT: