INT: A PLUSH MANSION OF UNSPEAKABLE OPULENCE IN BEVERLY HILLS - DAY BRITNEY is sitting at a fine-oak table in a spacious kitchen right out of Home-Decor for Rich-People Magazine, tapping nervously on the table and chewing gum with her mouth open; this gum-chewing is more of a gum-smacking, and is very irritating. Britney:
Could you come in here? A rustling is heard off-screen; KEVIN emerges wearing an exasperated look; he was interrupted while doing...something. Kevin:
[pause; chews her gum]
Could you sit down for a sec? Kevin joins Britney at the table; there is silence, save for the constant gum-chewing. Britney:Look; I don't exactly know how to say this, so I'm just going to say it... Kevin:
You're breaking up with me. Silence; long vacant stare from Britney; the silence is eventually broken with more gum-chewing. Kevin:
How could you?
After all I've done for you? Britney is still chewing gum; her expression hasn't changed at all. Kevin:I mean, I'm your baby's daddy.
That's gotta count for something. Britney:
It's not that, Kevin... Kevin:
Is it the rapping? 'Cause I've got hip-hop in my soul, and I've gotta let it out. Britney:
[more gum chewing] Kevin:
I've got haters! Just like Jay-Z! Britney:
It's something else... Kevin:
You're not getting all caught up in what the tabloids are saying, are you?
'Cause all that partying? In Vegas? That's all...symbolic; it's a confirmation of our love...
...with drinking. Britney:
I've hired three cowboys from Mississippi to hunt you for sport. Kevin:
[nods silently; starts chewing again] Kevin:
Like, four days ago. Kevin:
No, when are they coming? Britney:
Oh...any time now. Kevin:
Oh, come off it, Kevin! You know how bored I've been lately! Kevin:
Taking care of a newborn baby doesn't keep you busy enough? Britney:
You'd think so, but no. Kevin:
What about when he "fell" last week? Britney:
Yeah; that ate up, like a day. Kevin:
Well, that's just great, Britney.
At least when I took that contract out on your life, it was out of hatred, not boredom. Britney:
This is sort of a half-and-half thing. Kevin:
Well, at least now we're being honest with each other. Britney:
[another vacant stare]
I tried to kill you in your sleep last week. Kevin:
What happened? Britney:
I was too drunk to pull it off. Kevin:
Having that kid really affected your alcohol-tolerance, huh? Britney:
I guess so... Kevin:
And let's not forget about your figure. Britney:
[chewing stops; a slow frown spreads across her face] Kevin:
Oh, come ON! Don't tell me that you think you look good? Britney:
I just gave birth, like, four months ago. Kevin:
Yeah, cry me a river...
[realizes what he's said; laughs]
...so to speak.
[pause; he starts singing "Cry Me a River" by Justin Timberlake] Britney:
At least I'm not a 30-year-old wannabe rapper who dresses like a 14-year-old Eminem clone.
No, you dress like those balding fat chicks down at White Castle who don't realize that their gut-fat is hanging over their stretch-pants.
I do SO realize that!
I'm trying to fit in.
To your pants?
With the other white-trash mothers who have nothing better to do than gorge themselves on mini-burgers.
Well, why don't you sing a song about it? Oh, yeah...because you CAN'T SING.
"I'm the worst rapper in the world and I get no respect but I'm still an incredibly stupid dipshit..."
God, are you lame.
There are two separate knocks on the doors, one on either side of the kitchen; Britney and Kevin look at each other, and then get up to answer their respective doors. Britney opens her door, and it's the COWBOY, speaking from off-screen.
Yee-haw! Let's get to rustlin' us up some Kevin!
A lasso shoots into frame coming up just short of Kevin; Kevin opens his door, and the well-suited arm of an ASSASSIN reaches into the kitchen holding a gun with a silencer attached.
Is now a good time?
Silence; Britney and Kevin look at each other; more silence. Then:
Britney & Kevin:
[together and to each other]
It's for you.