“BLOOD DRIVE”
mckenna/insana
________________________________
FADE IN
INT—MICHAEL’S
OFFICE—DAY
MICHAEL is behind
HIS desk, with PAM seated across from him.
MICHAEL is talking. PAM is
struggling to hide her apathy.
MICHAEL:
...and so, long
story short, after my sandwich had been made, I realized that they had forgot
the tomatoes.
PAM:
Uh,
huh.
MICHAEL: (leans
forward)
So I went back to
the counter, and I asked her, you know, can I have some extra tomatoes. (smiles) And she said yes.
MICHAEL leans back in
his chair and folds his arms happily.
MICHAEL: (cont)
She digs me. Big time.
PAM: (a second, then
quietly)
Um, Michael, all she
did was give you tomatoes.
MICHAEL:
Yes...but she didn’t
have to. She did it because she
likes me. It’s not like she gives every
guy extra tomatoes.
PAM:
You’re right...only
the ones that specifically ask for them.
Like you did...when you asked her for tomatoes.
MICHAEL:
No, you weren’t
there. I’m positive on this, Pam. I think I’ve found another soul mate.
PAM:
Michael, this is
like your third soul mate this week...
CUT TO—PAM IN
CONFERENCE ROOM—TALKING HEAD
PAM:
To tell you the
truth, I feel sorry for the first young blond-haired girl that just randomly
approaches him on the street asks him the time. Hell, I feel bad for the first young blond-haired girl that
happens to be walking on the same street as him, period!
CUT TO—MICHAEL’S
OFFICE
PAM:
Okay, fine. Let’s say you really did have a special
connection with her. What’s her name?
MICHAEL:
Don’t remember.
PAM:
Um...can you go back
to the deli and find out?
MICHAEL:
I wouldn’t go back
to that pigsty if you paid me.
PAM looks at the
camera exasperatedly.
TIME CUT
TO—MICHAEL’S OFFICE
Roughly five minutes
have passed. MICHAEL remains seated at
his desk. DWIGHT hands him something.
ZOOM IN
It’s a phone sex
flyer.
MICHAEL:
Good work, Dwight.
CUT TO—MICHAEL’S
OFFICE—TALKING HEAD
Michael:
Since my sudden break up with Jan, I’ve had the opportunity to
really sit back and just absorb things.
To reevaluate who I am and what I want to get out of a
relationship. And I have determined
that I don’t want a relationship. I
want a hot, passionate, torrid...zesty...tryst. And phone sex provides just that. Phone
sex is like the iPod shuffle of sex. It’s portable, usable anywhere, and
your never know what you'll get next...although it doesn’t have Enya, which is
a pretty big downside.
CUT TO—MICHAEL’S
OFFICE
MICHAEL picks up the
phone and begins dialing.
DWIGHT:
Go get ‘em, Michael.
MICHAEL:
Here goes. (Reading off flyer) 1, 5, 5, 5, S, I, N, G,
L, E, S. (waits for a few seconds while
it rings). Um, yes, hello, is this the
place for the phone sex?
Excellent. My name? Um, my...name
is...Lance...Lance...ington. Okay. Uh, huh.
What do I want to do to you?
(grins childishly) Um...I have no idea, what do you...a what? You want me to give you a what?
DWIGHT:
What is it? What is she propositioning you with?
Michael, don’t commit to anything yet.
MICHAEL: (to the
operator)
Um, yes, just, one
second. Sorry. (covers mouthpiece; to DWIGHT) She wants me
to give her a dirty sanchez.
DWIGHT:
What, like a
burrito?
MICHAEL:
I have no clue. (thinks) I’ll look it up on google
images. (types in the information) OH MY GOD (wretches) THAT’S DISGUSTING!!! (tries to compose himself; to the operator)
Um, yes, hello, it’s Lance again...yeah...what if we just cuddle for now,
because...no? You don’t want to
cuddle? Um, then what else would you
want to do...
As MICHAEL continues
to stumble awkwardly through the conversation, the CAMERA PANS out of his
office and
ZOOMS IN
On Meredith, with a
devilish look on her face, talking quietly into HER cell phone.
CUT TO-OPENING
CREDITS
EASE IN-CONFERENCE
ROOM
ANGELA and PHYLLIS
are hanging up red streamers and other red decorations.
MICHAEL: (voiceover)
Today is the day of
our semi-annual blood drive. Every six months, the Pennsylvania Blood Center
comes right here, to our building, to collect the gift of blood. Unfortunately,
I have just happened to be out sick the last...seven times they’ve come...I
prefer to give them the gift of laughter instead.
CUT TO-CONFERENCE
ROOM
MICHAEL walks in.
PHYLLIS:
Michael, why are we
doing this? We’re not having a party or anything.
MICHAEL:
Moral support,
ladies. Nothing is more encouraging than the sight of blood. Hey, by the way,
would it be possible to get a couple of pictures of Dracula?
ANGELA:
Why would we want
Dracula around our office?
MICHAEL:
Because Dracula has
the power to turn into a bat and suck peoples’ blood. Get it Angela? Blood?
ANGELA:
I am most certainly
not put his picture up. Dracula is a
satanic, unholy being.
MICHAEL:
Mmm...uh...you’re
thinking of Alf. I’m talking about
Dracula. Picture that purple guy from
Sesame Street. Cuddly...and educational. Really helped me through sixth
grade.
CUT TO-JIM IN
CONFERENCE ROOM-TALKING HEAD
JIM:
Uh, yeah I plan on
giving blood. (HIS eyes swerve from side to side). It’s...really not that big a
deal. I’ve done it before.
CUT TO-DWIGHT IN
CONFERENCE ROOM-TALKING HEAD
DWIGHT:
Absolutely I will
give blood. Why? Simple. If I die, my blood will be within someone else's
body. Then, I will be able to live
through them, and eventually take control of their body, thus enabling me to
live on.
CUT TO-CREED IN
CONFERENCE ROOM-TALKING HEAD
CREED:
No, I won’t be
giving blood today. I will, however, be taking it.
CUT TO-ANDY IN
CONFERENCE ROOM-TALKING HEAD
ANDY:
I HAVE to give blood
today. There is no other option. I have
tried to give blood seven times in my life and have been rejected each and
every time. Twice I had taken cold medication the night before. Once, my iron
count was too low. Then there was the time I forgot my social security number.
And on three separate occasions, they thought I might have syphilis. I mean, at first I wanted to help people,
but now I just want to give it out of spite.
CUT TO—OFFICE
MICHAEL steps out of
HIS office.
MICHAEL:
All right
everybody. As you probably know, in
about a half hour or so, employees from the Blood Center will be arriving. Last year’s participation was particularly
sparse, and I don’t want to name names...(under his breath)...Kevin, Angela,
Creed, Stanley, Pam, Kelly...
KEVIN: (off screen)
Michael, you didn’t
give blood either last year!
MICHAEL: (shaking
him off, then continuing)
...irregardless, I
want as much participation as possible from you guys...and to sweeten the deal,
I’ve thought up a little incentive. I
have consulted the Center, and now, anybody who steps forth and donates blood
will be rewarded with cookies! Isn’t
that great?
OSCAR:
Michael, we already
get cookies. You always get cookie when
you donate blood.
MICHAEL:
Yes, that is
true...but now you’re being rewarded with cookies, which is even better!
PAM:
Wait...I’m
confused...
PHYLLIS:
What’s the
difference between getting cookies and being rewarded with cookies?
JIM:
None
whatsoever.
MICHAEL groans and
rubs HIS forehead.
MICHAEL:
Enough. Giving blood is one of the most...(trying to
sound profound)...selfless and...awesomest...thing...one person can do. So we’re all doing it. That’s final.
CUT TO—MICHAEL’S
OFFICE
MICHAEL:
Sometimes the
workers in this office can be contrary and difficult for no reason. Well, I’m going to make sure that today they
give blood. There will be blood. Just like in that movie! And my office is getting off lucky! All they need to do to give it is to be
pricked with a little needle. Nobody’s
trying to bash them over the head with a bowling pin. If that was the case then NOBODY would volunteer.
CUT TO—OFFICE
The employees of the
Pennsylvania Blood Center have arrived.
Two of them are setting up shop in the conference room. One of them is JANE and the other is BEN. Both look like they are in their late 20s or
early 30s.
JANE: (looking at
the wall)
Why is there a giant
poster of Count von Count?
BEN: (chuckles)
Oh that’s right, you
weren’t here last year.
DWIGHT enters.
DWIGHT:
As you were. Don’t mind me, just running a quick
inspection of your stations.
BEN: (politely)
Um, thanks, but you
can go back to work, sir, we’re doing just fine.
DWIGHT:
I’ll be the judge of
that.
DWIGHT approaches a
filled unit that is hanging from a stand.
He eyes it intently, running his fingers over it.
JANE:
Please don’t touch that.
DWIGHT:
These units don’t look secure at all.
He takes out a pen and prods the unit with it. Blood starts trickling out and falling onto
the floor.
DWIGHT: (scoffs)
I knew it. Completely
unacceptable.
As he exits, DWIGHT chuckles looks at the two EMPLOYEES with a
self-satisfied smirk, leaving them dazedly looking at the ruptured unit.
CUT TO—PAM’S DESK
JIM is leaning at PAM’S desk.
They are giggling amongst each other and looking at the Donor
Questionnaire.
PAM:
Um, here where it asks if I had any recent body piercing? What
if instead of a needle, I used a stapler? Does that count?
JIM: (laughs)
Good question. You
should ask one of the employees.
PAM:
I’m not gonna bother...I can’t give blood, even if I wanted to.
JIM:
Why?
PAM: (smiling)
Because it says here you need to wait three years to donate
blood after catching malaria. Malaria,
Jim. Malaria.
JIM:
And not to mention your extensive treatment for Killer Nanorobot
infection. Gotta factor that one in as
well.
PAM:
Oh god, you’re right...you know, it’s nothing short of a miracle
that I’m still alive today, what with malaria, and nanorobot infections...
JIM: (playfully)
And Michael.
CUT TO—CONFERENCE ROOM
KELLY is standing up and very hyper.
KELLY: (freaking out)
I can’t do this, I can’t do this, I can’t do this.
BEN:
It’s okay, don’t
worry. You don’t have to feel pressured
to give blood if you don’t want to.
KELLY: (trying to
compose herself)
No, I really want
to.
BEN:
I love your
spirit. If you can just sit down right
here, it’ll all be over in no time.
KELLY: (to herself)
I can do this. I can do this.
KELLY sits down,
calmer but still visibly uneasy. BEN
pulls out the needle.
KELLY: (jumping up
and bolting out the door)
HOLY *BEEP* get that
away from me!!!!!!!!
CUT TO—THE
ACCOUNTANTS
KEVIN leans over the
ANGELA.
KEVIN:
Angela...are you
giving blood?
ANGELA:
Of course not. My body is a temple. The last thing I need is one of those
teenyboppers poking holes in it like I’m some type of pin cushion.
KEVIN:
Oh. (to OSCAR) What
about you?
OSCAR:
Yeah, I think I
will.
KEVIN:
Cool. I think I’m gonna give blood too.
ANGELA: (under her
breath)
Your blood is
probably nothing but Orange soda and Oreos.
KEVIN:
I heard that!
CUT TO—BREAK ROOM
JIM is seated eating
a sandwich. ANDY enters.
ANDY:
Tuna! What’s up mah brotha?
JIM:
Um, nothing much,
Andy.
ANDY:
You pumped?
JIM:
I guess so.
ANDY looks around,
as if to check if anyone is listening.
ANDY:
Tuna, let me ask you
something.
JIM:
Yeah, sure, what is
it?
ANDY:
You know how Angela
and I are pretty much the hottest gossip topic around the office?
JIM: (gives a
confused look)
Umm...
ANDY:
Well, between you
and me, things aren’t as hot as they appear on the surface. We are like...a
dumpling. We look good on the outside but when you open us up, it’s just a
disgusting hunk of meat.
JIM:
So you have a
disgusting hunk of meat on your hands?
ANDY:
Exactly. And the sex
is not the level I like...and by level that I like, I mean...that there
actually be some.
JIM:
Wow. I...really
don’t know what...to say to that.
ANDY:
Just keep my meat
problem in mind. If you ever think of something to aid my meat, I’d appreciate
it.
CUT TO-JIM IN
CONFERENCE ROOM-TALKING HEAD
JIM:
There really are
no...words that can describe how painful it must be to be either one of them.
CUT TO-MICHAEL’S
OFFICE
PAM enters with a
folder, with a red bandage on HER arm.
MICHAEL:
Pammy! What’s
shakin’? What’s the deal with your arm?
PAM: (confused)
I...gave blood.
MICHAEL:
Oh right, right. (in
a British voice) Blood, BLOOD! You won’t like me when I’m mad!
PAM:
Michael, Dracula
doesn’t have an English accent...and he’s not the Incredible Hulk.
MICHAEL:
(exasperated, throwing HIS hands onto HIS face)
Everything...has to
be just so...perfect for you, doesn’t it?
PAM: (trying to be
nice)
Hey, Michael...have
you seen the nurse yet?
MICHAEL:
No, why?
PAM:
Well, I don’t
know...um...she’s kind of cute, I thought...why not give it a shot?
MICHAEL:
Hmmm...interesting...(thinking
aloud) I could go give blood, and strike up a conversation with her in the
process...but then I would have to actually give blood...
PAM:
It’s really not that
bad, I did it just now.
MICHAEL:
Maybe...but I better
not walk in there and see that landlady of yours again!
CUT TO-OFFICE
JIM is walking out
of the conference room as DWIGHT is walking in. JIM has a red bandage on his
arm, indicating that he had just given blood.
JIM:
Dwight!
DWIGHT stops.
DWIGHT:
What do you want? I need to go preserve my immortality. I see blood as a
Horcrux, just like...(whispers) he who must not be named.
JIM:
I was just going to
warn you but...no never mind.
JIM goes to walk
away but DWIGHT steps in HIS path.
DWIGHT:
What? Why must I be
warned?
JIM: (whispering)
All right, but don’t
tell anybody.
JIM leans forward
and whispers into DWIGHT’S ear. DWIGHT’S eyes widen.
CUT TO-JIM IN
CONFERENCE ROOM-TALKING HEAD
JIM:
I told Dwight that
there were two criminals going around the countries disguised as Blood Center
volunteers who drained victims of their blood. Then, they sold the blood to
aliens and ate the bodies.
CUT TO-OFFICE
Screaming is heard
coming from the conference room. The door opens and DWIGHT bursts out, followed
by BEN.
DWIGHT: (shouting)
I’m on to your
little trick! I should report you to the sheriff immediately!
BEN:
What? What trick? We
take that much blood from everyone! It’s standard procedure!
DWIGHT:
I bet it is!
DWIGHT storms into
the kitchen and then goes into the bathroom.
STANLEY: (to
PHYLLIS)
This is why we cannot have people in our office.
CUT TO-CONFERENCE
ROOM
MICHAEL is in the
chair giving blood. OSCAR is seated on the other side of the room, waiting for
HIS turn. JANE takes out the needle and
moves it toward MICHAEL’S arm.
JANE:
All right, here it
comes, Mr. Scott.
MICHAEL: (a little
squeamishly)
Uh oh...if you
must...
SHE inserts the
needle.
JANE: (kindly)
That wasn’t too
bad. Nothing to it.
MICHAEL:
Yeah, you’re
right. You know, most people hate
needles, but I find them kinda kinky.
CLOSE UP
Of OSCAR rolling HIS
eyes in the background.
JANE:
Um...what?
MICHAEL:
Tell you
what...since I’m giving you my blood, how bout the least you can do is give me
your number.
JANE:
...uh...
MICHAEL: (realizing
his idiocy)
Ooops...sorry about
that...
JANE: (awkwardly)
No, I’m sorry...it’s
just...um...you’re not really my type.
MICHAEL: (laughs)
What? B negative isn’t good enough for ya? (to CAMERA) Blood humor.
JANE: (getting
frustrated)
Okay I think we’re
done.
MICHAEL:
Wait, really? The unit’s only like half full.
JANE:
No, we’re done.
MICHAEL: (realizing
he’s blown it)
All right, if you
say so.
JANE walks over to
OSCAR.
OSCAR:
Am I up?
JANE:
Sir, I regret to
inform you that you cannot give blood today.
OSCAR:
Why not?
JANE:
According to this
application, you...do not fit all of the criteria.
OSCAR:
I don’t understand.
I’ve never had any blood problems...I don’t use drugs or anything.
JANE looks nervously
at camera and then bends down to whisper something to OSCAR
OSCAR:
My lifestyle? What
do you mean my lifestyle? So just because I’m gay, I can’t give blood? I’m
perfectly healthy. I just saw a doctor last week.
JANE:
I’m sorry but I
don’t make up the criteria.
MICHAEL walks over
holding HIS cookie.
MICHAEL:
What’s the haps?
JANE:
This
is confidential.
OSCAR:
Michael, they’re
forbidding me from giving blood because I’m gay.
A silence ensues.
MICHAEL: (quietly,
to JANE)
Get out of my
office.
No one moves.
MICHAEL: (loudly)
GET THE *BLEEP* OUT
OF MY OFFICE!
OSCAR exits. Five seconds of silence.
JANE:
Wait, do you really
want me to go?
MICHAEL: (sighs)
......no......you’re
doing a great job......
CUT TO-MICHAEL IN
HIS OFFICE-TALKING HEAD
MICHAEL:
The fact that the
world can be so closed-minded makes me sick. Not letting Oscar give blood
offends me. Gays are people just like us. They can do what we can...except
reproduce. But that’s the only real difference. And reproduction isn’t that essential to humans anyway.
CUT TO-ACCOUNTANT’S
CORNER
MICHAEL walks over.
MICHAEL:
Oscar, as a show of
support for you, I would like to give you my blood cookies. I will not eat or
drink anything from those bigots.
MICHAEL puts a few
cookies on OSCAR’S desk.
OSCAR:
Michael, that is
very kind of you but I really think that you should eat something.
ANGELA:
Yes, Michael, you
just gave blood. Eating is very
important after you give blood.
MICHAEL:
No. Hunger strike. It’s my form of protest.
I want to make it clear I will always have you’re guys’ backs. Today, I am Gandhi and you all are the
Indians. You are all like Kelly, only a thousand times less annoying.
MICHAEL walks away.
KEVIN:
Michael, can I have
one?
MICHAEL:
When you are gay, I
will give you a cookie.
CUT TO—CONFERENCE
ROOM
CREED walks in and
hands a sandwich bag to JANE. It’s
filled with blood.
JANE: (repulsed)
What is this?
CREED: (matter of
factly)
It’s blood.
JANE:
...from what?
CREED:
A raccoon.
JANE:
What am I supposed
to do with this?
CREED:
I’m sure you’ll come
across a raccoon in need of a transplant.
JANE stares at HIM blankly.
CREED:
I’ll just help
myself to some cookies.
CREED walks over to the table and stuffs HIS pockets with cookies.
CREED exits. JANE is holding the baggie as far away from
HERSELF as possible, wondering where the hell to put it.
CUT TO—JANE IN CONFERENCE
ROOM—TALKING HEAD
JANE: (amazed)
You guys follow them
around every day?!?! For four
years? I’m impressed.
CUT TO—MICHAEL’S
OFFICE
DWIGHT is leaning
against the wall. MICHAEL has HIS head
on the desk. JIM knocks. MICHAEL doesn’t look up.
MICHAEL:
Come in.
JIM:
Umm, are you okay,
Michael?
MICHAEL: (groaning)
Arrrrgh...I am
sooooo weak. All the intolerance and
bigotry in the world is making me lightheaded.
DWIGHT:
Nope. It’s your lack of food intake that is making
you lightheaded...you just gave blood, you have low blood sugar...so you have
to raise it. Have some beets.
MICHAEL:
I’d rather die,
Dwight, than eat one of your beets. If
I’m gonna break my hunger strike, it’s not gonna be for a BEET. It would be for...a double-fudged chocolate
cake...with French fries...and roast duck.
(groans) I AM SO DIZZY.
JIM:
Michael, you only
have half a pint. Most of us gave TWICE
as much blood as you did, and we’re all fine.
Just have something to eat, I promise you you’ll feel better.
CUT TO—CONFERENCE
ROOM
ANDY stands outside
the door.
ANDY: (to CAMERA)
Here it goes. Wish me luck.
ANDY walks in.
BEN:
How’s it going?
ANDY:
I WILL give blood
today.
BEN:
...okay then. I just
need you to fill out an application.
ANDY reaches into
HIS pocket and pulls out a slip of paper
ANDY:
I’ve already got
that covered. I’m no blood virgin.
BEN:
Um...thank you.
BEN takes the application from ANDY and reads it over.
BEN:
Alright then. Looks
like everything here is in order. Let’s just—
ANDY: (nervously)
What is it?
BEN:
Huh...it says here
that you spent some time with someone who had hepatitis.
ANDY:
Oh yeah...um, when I
was in anger management, one woman with me was recovering from it.
BEN:
I’m sorry but that
prevents you from donating blood for a couple of months.
ANDY:
So I can’t give
blood today?
BEN:
I’m sorry.
ANDY nods quietly
and walks over to the wall.
CUT TO-OFFICE
PAM is talking to
KELLY.
KELLY:
You think I should
try again? I feel so so so so bad for backing out.
PAM:
I think you should
go for it. You barely feel it.
ANDY’S
earth-shattering scream is heard from the conference room.
KELLY:
There is no way I’m
doing that.
CUT TO—OFFICE
It’s quitting
time. EVERYBODY is gathering his or her
belongings. MICHAEL stumbles out of HIS
office dizzily.
PAM:
Michael. Please.
Go eat something. Please.
OSCAR:
Yes, Michael. I appreciate your...support...but you need
to eat something before you leave.
MICHAEL: (weakly)
...okay...
MICHAEL trudges HIS
way into the kitchen. After a few
seconds, there is a loud crash, and then a huge scream.
CLOSE UP
On PAM and OSCAR’S
concerned faces.
CUT TO—HOSPITAL BED
MICHAEL is sitting
upright, eating from a plate of cookies that DWIGHT is holding for HIM.
MICHAEL: (to CAMERA)
Well, turns out, my
hunger strike...not an irrefutable success.
I went to get a cup of coffee, and I dropped it square on my right
thigh. Glass went everywhere...mostly
into my leg. But luckily, Pam was there
to call for help, and they took me here, and got be bandaged up in no
time. And the best part was, they used
the blood I donated earlier today! What
are the odds? (triumphantly) Not only
did I save Oscar from the hands of prejudice and intolerance, but I also saved
myself...from a coffee pot.
CUT TO-PAM IN
HOSPITAL HALLWAY-TALKING HEAD
PAM:
Michael’s injury
itself wasn’t enough for a blood transfusion...It was Dwight trying to remove
the glass from Michael’s leg...which included, among other things, a
spatula...and a steak knife.
CUT TO-DWIGHT IN HALLWAY-TALKING
HEAD
DWIGHT:
I did the best I possibly could with the instruments at my disposal. If I had had access to professional medical equipment, then there is a very good possibility that Michael wouldn’t have a paper clip lodged deep inside his flesh right now.
~end~
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