Self\less Page #2
stop your heart.
What?
I said it's something
to stop your heart.
It didn't work.
It didn't work.
What's your name?
It didn't...
It didn't work.
What's your name?
Damian.
Damian.
It will take a few days,
but it gets easier.
It has that
new body smell.
Damian.
Damian?
Yeah.
Are you all right?
Yes.
Death has some side effects.
Here. The paper of record.
We can arrange
a visit to the plot
in a few months if it
holds any significance.
But right now...
Get some rest
if you can.
Tomorrow's your
first day of school.
So, how are you feeling?
Terrific. I have the physical
dexterity of a toddler.
Two hundred and
fifty million well spent.
A sense
of humor. Good.
It's important actually.
Helps to fend off despair.
Is that why I'm only
allowed plastic knives?
Suicidal thoughts
are not uncommon.
Inhabiting a body the mind regards
as alien can be pretty overwhelming.
And what is that? Prozac?
No, not exactly. No.
The "glitches" that
you've described to me?
That's your mind adjusting
to its new neural structure.
And you can expect occasional, mild
hallucinations for the first year.
Jesus. There's nothing
to worry about.
Think of it as
the anti-rejection drug
that you'd take
after any transplant.
And what does
rejection look like?
Well, migraine, nausea,
disorientation, and then...
Well, death.
Oh.
Is that all?
An irrelevant hypothetical.
One a day
for the time being.
Hell yes.
I was born on September 20, 1980.
Phoenix, Arizona.
My parents and my older sister
were killed in a car crash.
My parents and my older sister
were killed in a car crash
when I was 10 years old.
I was home with a stomach ache
because I snuck in the kitchen
and ate a whole tub of chocolate ice cream.
I was born September 20, 1980.
I was born September 20, 1980.
I was born on September 20, 1980.
Phoenix, Arizona.
My parents and my older sister
were killed in a car crash.
I was home with a stomach ache
because I snuck in the kitchen
and ate a whole tub
of chocolate ice cream.
I haven't eaten
chocolate since.
My Uncle Frank
raised me in Chicago.
I went to Northwestern, where I
majored in Computer Science.
I never married.
I have no children.
I have never married.
I have no children.
My name is Edward Kidner.
My name
is Edward Kidner.
My name is Edward Kidner.
Mmm. What's this?
This is a
graduation present.
You'll live locally
for the time being,
just until you
get your bearings.
We've arranged
a house and car for you
and placed the money that you put
aside in a new bank account.
Not many in there,
are there?
Seven.
You'll get refills at
our weekly meetings.
No. A leash wasn't
part of the deal.
I'm sorry. I admit
it's an inconvenience.
But with so few
undergoing the procedure,
every one of our patients
is a learning process.
It's just for now.
All right?
And how do I
get in touch with you?
You don't.
I come to you.
My privacy is very important
to me for obvious reasons.
Fair enough.
I'll tell you what.
In a couple of months,
we can talk
about wherever it is
that you want to be
relocated. All right?
But in the meantime, why don't you
just relax and have some fun.
After all, at your age,
I'd say you've earned it.
Whoo!
Oh!
Move, move, move!
What's up, man?
Way to go.
Hey, NBA.
You see any scouts watching?
Uh-uh. I like to win.
Hmm.
Come back,
you'll be disappointed.
You're not from
around here, are you?
How'd you guess?
I like that.
That's funny.
Gonna get a local
ass-whooping. I'm Anton.
Edward.
How's the wrist?
My kids can dish
out more than that.
You got kids?
Yeah, buddy.
Let me show you my beauties.
Look at that. The oldest,
she just turned seven.
Ah.
They're cute at that age.
Before they grow claws and
sharp-pointed teeth.
So what's
your story, Eddie?
What do you mean?
You know. You in town to catch
some jazz, chase the ladies?
No, no, no. I'm actually renting an
apartment about two blocks up there.
No sh*t. I'm just
around the corner.
Yeah? No sh*t.
Yeah, I'm right here.
Anton.
It was nice meeting you.
Sure.
Hey, I'm gonna
take you out.
Something like a little
welcome to the neighborhood.
I appreciate that,
but you got kids at home.
Yeah, but they live
with their mother.
I get to see them like once a month.
You know how it is.
Come on.
No. No, I wouldn't.
You're on.
There you go.
Thank you.
What is he wearing?
Really?
Ew.
Are you in line?
Thanks.
After you.
Eddie! What's going on?
How are you?
I'm Edward.
Please meet Leah.
Leah? Nice to meet you.
How are you?
This is Andrea.
Andrea. Pleasure.
How are you?
You have very nice
taste in friends, Anton.
Well done.
Thank you very much.
Now, what were we talking about?
They were asking me what
you do besides trying to play ball.
Nothing. I'm retired.
How old are you?
I was born September 20, 1980,
in Phoenix, Arizona.
That's specific.
That's specific.
Very specific.
Actually, I started a company, and
then I sold it later. Doesn't matter.
Are they giving something away in there?
What's with the line?
I love this song.
I love this song.
She's incredible.
She's a guy, isn't she?
Yeah.
Are you okay?
I am. I'm fine.
I just haven't seen anything
like that in about 52 years.
You're weird.
Gorgeous.
Where are you going?
Hello.
Hello, Claire?
Yes, this is Claire.
Hello?
Who is this?
You like it when
Daddy's home? Me, too.
Hey, baby.
She's sleeping.
Daddy...
I see this little girl. She
can't be more than five or six.
And somehow I know that she's
the daughter of this woman.
Something's wrong.
She's sick.
She's expecting
me to help her.
Well, you mentioned that you
missed taking your medication.
Once.
Just one?
Yes.
Well, that would account for the
intensity of your hallucination.
No, this wasn't a hallucination.
I knew her.
Oh, yes, I understand that
it might seem that way
given your unresolved feelings
for your own daughter,
but what you're
experiencing is simply
a confused composite
of old memories
fueled by your own
very real emotions.
Now, for example,
this town with the water tower
with the pumpkin painted on it
is likely someplace
that you visited as a child.
And this Latina woman?
Well, a one-night stand long
since forgotten, I'm sure.
I never said
she was Latina.
Hmm?
I never said
she was Latina.
Hmm.
Here.
What is this?
Hawaii.
A change of scenery.
Yes, I'm afraid I've kept you
cooped up in here for far too long,
But for the week
that you're gone,
I'm doubling your
dose of medication.
Now you remember to take it,
and I assure you
these unpleasant episodes
will soon be behind you.
All right?
All right.
Heavenly Father, we
thank you for the glorious hope
and for the great consolation.
In the name of the Father,
the Son, and the Holy Ghost.
Morning, Mr. Kidner.
May I?
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"Self\less" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 21 Nov. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/self\less_17761>.
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