Get Real

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Pamie: D | Grade It Now!
Testy, aren't we?

World's Largest Kitchen. Elizabeth does her required meal-making as Mitch is on the phone with some important business deal. Elizabeth offers to help Mitch cook some healthy meals that go along with his new diet. She says that she loves to cook now that she's quit smoking and that it "takes the edge off." Mitch asks if Liz can run him over for a business meeting that afternoon. She says she can. He makes plans for three. Liz gives the "I'm gonna butt in on that man's life" look as Mitch gets off the phone. "Mixing business with stress," she says as he hangs up. "Not exactly what the doctor ordered." He says that the doctor just said he shouldn't drive for a couple of days. "Mitch," Liz says in a too-friendly way. "Liz," Mitch mocks. Ha. She asks if he's thought about going back to brokering. "You know, nine-to-five?" He says that he hasn't thought about it and he's not going to. "Not everyone's cut out to run their own business," she actually says. Mitch stares for a second, thinks things over, and says, "You mean I'm not cut out to run my own business." He's quick, that Mitch. She reminds him that the firehouse landed him at the doctor's office, and now he's chasing after the next big deal. Mitch interrupts with Get Real's signature, "You know what?" and announces that he's going to find someone else to give him a ride. He walks off. Elizabeth bites her lip, exhales, and looks around. "I have so few lines and I never have my own storyline anymore," she thinks. "I never should have dumped that doctor." She shakes her head. "Whatever. I'll just do a few guest spots on Friends next year."

Mary breezes into her clinic and announces a good morning to the receptionist. The receptionist, of course, hands Mary a basket that arrived for her. "Someone special," she smiles. Mary gives the saintly smile and says, "A girl from my unwed mothers group. She's thanking me for convincing her to move back in with her parents." She read all of that in like, three seconds. "Nice save," the receptionist smiles. "Thank you," Mary says. What a beautiful fucking person. Mary's boss walks up and says, "You've got three teenagers. I need your help on a new case." At first I had no idea what this meant, until I realized she was talking about Mary's three kids. Like all of a sudden a real live teenager showed up at the teen clinic, and these guys are all panicking. She tells Mary this new case " a tough one," and Mary puts on her "I'm so ready for tough cases" face. The boss walks through a room full of people and openly discusses this case. She explains that it's a high school student. A girl. She donated blood last month and just got a letter in the mail three days ago from the Red Cross telling her that she's HIV positive. "Oh, God. She must be terrified," Mary says, as if the teen girl had just heard that Marshall Screechdale was thinking about asking her to prom. The boss says that the girl is "overwhelmed," and that she hasn't told anyone. Mary juts into her sway-back mode and asks what she should do. "Help me to give her hope," the boss says. "In these cases the hardest part of the situation is to assure a kid like this that she hasn't been handed a death sentence." The boss asks if Mary is ready. "Absolutely," Mary says, because this really is no big deal at all for her. The boss walks Mary to the other side of the cubicle wall to meet the girl. The girl's head is down. She lifts her head. It's Ferret. The oboe reaches its peak as Mary exhales and says, "Amy?" Ferret thinks, "Shit. The one person I wanted to make sure never knew. Now she's gonna try and run my life." Mary stares at Amy as if she's never heard of these things called "teenagers" before, and certainly not ones that have "diseases." The oboe can't stop the music. Fade to white as my wine glass shatters.

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Get Real




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