Birthmarked Page #6

Many different kinds.

Oh, just eat half. Whatever.

- Are there any new protocols

I should be briefed about?

No.

- You threw out the television

and burned many books.

I feel there has been

a change of plan.

There is. Or there was.

But, uh, Catherine has asked me

to put everything on hold.

Ah.

So what should I write

in the weekly report?

What do you mean?

- Well, won't it look strange to

have a pause at such a crucial time?

Scientifically speaking?

If I may,

I really don't think

this is the time

to be taking a pause.

- Catherine's not really in the

mood for negotiating right now.

Uh, you know,

she's pretty out of it.

- You're right. She will

be out of it for a few days.

Yeah.

Yes.

I will start on dishes.

Whatever.

(kids chattering)

Yeah...

This is a big day for you.

Sweetie, I'm sorry to say, you're

just not Daddy's little girl anymore.

You'll always be Daddy's

little little girl, pumpkin,

but you're getting to an age

when you're gonna have to start

making a lot of decisions

for yourself. Yeah. Oh, yeah.

A lot of judgment calls.

But this, this game,

whoa, it's gonna help.

- Can I take it?

- Sure.

Careful.

- It's so cute!

- You know, millions of mice

like this one,

every day sacrifice

for the progress of mankind.

- What are we going to do?

- Good question. Okay.

The mouse enters here

and you have to help him

find his way out by opening

or closing these doors.

But if you make a mistake,

there are consequences.

- What?

- Know that there are consequences

to bad decisions, just like life.

Okay.

Ready?

Let's play mouse-tricity.

(squeaking)

Good girl. That's it.

You're doing really well,

Maymay.

Oh, he's at an impasse.

Mm-hmm.

Come on, come on, come on.

Okay, okay. Oh, oh, oh...

wrong door.

Oh. Oh.

Oh!

(Maya gasping)

(screaming)

Dad!

Stop! What are you doing?!

You killed it!

- You took all the decisions,

you gotta take responsibility.

- You killed it, Dad!

You're so mean! I hate you!

- Maya...

don't be upset.

It's just... a mouse.

Why would you do this?!

- What the hell

is going on here?

- Whoa, hon, you shouldn't be

walking around.

You should go back to bed.

- You promised...

you promised me a hiatus.

- Well, a lot of promises were made,

Catherine. A lot of promises were made.

Well, so, what are you doing?

- I knew you'd react like this,

so I had to push on.

I couldn't tell you.

- Well...

I'm done.

I'm, uh...

Yeah, I'm-I'm telling the kids.

- About what?

- Everything.

I'm just...

I'm gonna tell them everything.

- Ca-Catherine, this is no time

to act crazy. Just listen to me.

No! You listen to me.

You are the crazy one, okay?!

I mean, look at yourself,

for chrissakes!

You look like

a goddamn mental patient!

- I look like a mental patient?! Take

a damn look in the mirror, sweetheart!

(muffled argument)

(camera whirring)

(argument continues)

- United, we stand.

- Divided, we fall.

(screaming in distance)

- Uh, good,

but just try it again.

(argument continues)

Action!

United, we stand!

Divided, we fall.

- I can't.

I'm just so sick of it.

It's...

(chuckling)

I'm sick of it.

Catherine... Ca-Catherine!

(rapping)

Come on. Catherine!

(rattling doorknob)

Catherine? Oh... Catherine!

- Luke? - Open

the door! - Guys!

- Stop, Catherine! - Where

are you?! - You can't do that!

- Sh*t.

- Catherine!

Catherine!

Don't do it!

- They're not even here.

(engine roaring)

(tires squealing)

Oh, jeez!

- What are you doing?! Stop, stop!

- Stop!

Luke, open the door.

This is dangerous.

- No!

(music blaring)

- What is she saying?

- She's drunk.

- She loves the Dutch?

- I'm so sorry!

- She's horny

and wants some brew?

(Ben):

Cut this engine right now!

You're in a lot of trouble,

young man!

- Open up.

- Stop! Put down the window!

- Listen, we lied to you.

- Here we go!

- Oh!

(music blaring)

(shrieking)

We're the kids in America

Whoa-oh

We're the kids in America

Whoa-oh

Everybody live

for the music-go-round

La-la-la-la-la-la

La-la-la-la-la-la

Sing

So what the bejesus happened?

- They, uh, they caused a 19

- car pileup on the 141.

- Hmm. - Wow. - Not

a scratch on them,

but Social Services

got a court order, so...

- So...

now we can't see the kids.

Bloody fascists.

Now, I believe this incident

falls under the...

blowing-up-in-your-face clause.

Which is...

paragraph 36-B.

Since there's been a breach

in the contract,

that means that you're obligated

to refund -

according

to my astute accountants -

a little over $1.4 million.

- Hold on here.

W- we had our knees cut

as we were crossing

the finish line.

We had... this.

We had this in the bag.

- Well, now you're holding

an empty bag.

And I won't lie to you.

The timing of this incident

could not be better.

- We lost our kids. You get that,

right? Does he...? He gets that, right?

- Oh, I do. That's why

I'm willing to deal here.

To be frank, I haven't been...

perfectly forthcoming with you.

What do you mean?

- I'm so sorry.

- Zip it, Phyllis.

- No, what?

- I swear,

I had no idea of the extent

of the deception until recently.

I said zip it, Phyllis.

- What deception?

- You see, throughout history,

scientists have used humans

and animals as guinea pigs.

So where do you draw the line between

protecting dignity and promoting progress?

I don't understand, I...

- Well, in this case,

science is a guinea pig.

You're the guinea pigs.

My guinea pigs.

- What do you mean?

- Yeah.

- Well... while you were experimenting

on your kids, I was experimenting on you.

How?!

- Well, the working title for

my book is:
The Rationalizing

of Unethical Behaviour

for the So-Called Greater Good.

My... my editor wants something

with a bit more pizzazz.

- So, uh...

(chuckling wryly)

What are you gonna write?

- Well, basically,

that you've been using your kids

as lab rats.

That's the basic premise.

- How dare you?

- The hell do you... know?

What the hell can you, uh,

even write about?

I- I... You know, I'm...

- Well...

Samsonov kept a tight log...

...of every minute detail.

(Catherine exclaiming)

- And you!

(sobbing):
Our kids loved you.

What about the, uh...

the, uh... Portuguese?

(laughing)

- I made that up.

There were no Portuguese, Ben.

I just did it to see

how far you were willing to go.

(silent chuckle)

You... you cuntbag.

Don't you see

how f***ing unethical this is?

I mean,

do you see the irony here?

- Can we remain professional

here?

Now, I am willing

to rip up your contract

and forget

about the $1.4 million

if you sign this short

but effective release form.

It's pretty straightforward. It basically

says that I forget about your debt,

and in return, you have no say

over what I publish.

You've ruined everything!

- Come on. See it

as turning over a new leaf.

It's a new day.

Tabula rasa.

Hmm.

(door opening)

Hello. Hello, Ben.

Hello, Catherine.

How are you?

How are... the children?

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