Wiggliness

Logline: "A free-spirited school bus driver dismantles the selfish dysfunction of the family next door, enlivening them with Wiggliness, a magical enlightenment manifested as an infectious dance."

My wife and I were recently lamenting the lack of quality family films that featured a "functional" family unit of two parents and children. So many of these genre films lack two-parent households or even rudimentary politeness.

My goal with this film, then, was to create something that I would be proud to take my four-year-old to see in the theater: a movie with arresting visuals for the kids, puns and jokes for the adults, and valuable everyday morals for after-viewing discussion.

Enjoy.

WIGGLINESS by Kyle Patrick Johnson Represented by: Canton Literary Management (CLM) Contact: Eric Canton (866) 429-3118 ECanton@Prodigy.net www.CantonLiteraryManagement.com Registered with: Writers Guild of America, West, Inc. Registration #1333235 2. Sound: dogs snuffle and sniff. FADE IN: INT. CHEMICAL LABORATORY - DAY A human nose. Over a glass beaker of yucky green liquid. An uncertain sniff. Gains confidence, sniffs stronger. The nose belongs to MOM FAMILY (37), confident ditziness in a sunbather’s body. She wears a white labcoat over a polkadotted sundress, hair bobbed in ‘50’s style. MOM A little less black licorice, a little more anise. Holding the beaker: DR. MISTER (50s), eyeglasses falling off his face, name stitched onto his own white labcoat. DR. MISTER But, Mrs. Family, anise is black licorice. MOM Then it’s perfect! Dr. Mister pushes his glasses up his nose in confusion. INT. OFFICE - HOSPITAL - DAY A sickly smile etched on the face of DAD FAMILY (39), a muscle-bound jock in imagination only. Dad stands in front of a giant mahogany desk, holds up a small silver box in a trembling hand. DAD But don’t you even want to hear about all the new features in this year’s model-An imposing face thrusts toward across the desk: MRS. BOSS (60), a white-haired Amazon. MRS. BOSS What’s the cost, Mr. Family? Dad puts up a finger, tries to regain control. 3. DAD You know, I think, once you test the new rechargeable-The cost. Dad gulps. INT. CHEMICAL LABORATORY - DAY Mom walks along a high counter full of beakers and glasses, each filled with a different colored liquid. She sniffs each one. She blows air out through her nostrils after each one. MOM Too much like dandelion. Peach. Persimmon. Meaty. Antifreeze. Manure. Ah, ah, there it is! Mom lifts a beaker of black sludge. Gazes at it like gold. MOM Perfect citrus just like an orange! Dr. Mister shuffles over, pulls out a syringe of clear solution, squeezes out three drops into the sludge. The black turns a crystal-clear orange color, the consistency turns to water. Mom takes a deep breath. MOM Perfect! That’s the one. INT. OFFICE - HOSPITAL - DAY Mrs. Boss, eyelids almost closed in boredom. Dad speaks a million words a second, tries to win the sale. DAD Then this button on the side is a time-saving device that all your doctors can use, more time, you know. MRS. BOSS 4. DAD (CONT'D) It’ll pull the patient’s tongue out all by itself and, well, help them say aah without lifting a finger so then the doctor can look in and say, “All spiffy and spicky span”, and the patient will be happy and the doctors will be so happy that you bought them and you only-- Mrs. Boss raises a hand, a stern look, arched eyebrows. Dad pauses, worried. MRS. BOSS You say the doctors here will like me better? Dad nods, foreboding floods his face. MRS. BOSS I’ll take a hundred. DAD Oh, wow! Yes, Mrs. Boss, we’ll be sure to deliver those next week. EXT. SUBURBAN CUL-DE-SAC - FAMILY HOUSE - AFTERNOON Perfectly quiet. Empty wide-spaced homes. Not a car in a driveway, not a person in sight. A large yellow school bus pulls into the cul-de-sac, brakes squeak, stops with a huff. The bus door opens... CHILDREN flood out of the bus, cover the cul-de-sac with noise and color and movement, seem like thousands. Last off the bus, four kids who stick together: GRACIE FAMILY (14), pretty, prim, not-quite-popular; ALEXA FAMILY (11), chubby and lovely, thoughtful eyes; SOPHIA FAMILY (9), the smart kid, thick glasses; ETHAN FAMILY (7), a boy’s boy. The Family kids walk to their house in a clump, through crowds of active Children who pay them no attention. DR. MISTER (V.O.) So how are the children? 5. MOM (V.O.) Great, thanks for asking. Gracie’s really made a lot of friends. Gracie looks ashamed that no Children are talking to her. MOM (V.O.) Alexa’s not sure what she wants to be when she grows up, of course. Alexa’s backpack displays an Olympic figure skater. She wears leotards. She twirls and spins absently. MOM (V.O.) Sophia has such a sense of humor. Sophia’s intelligent eyes are serious. The Family kids reach the front door. Gracie unlocks it. MOM (V.O.) And Ethan, oh Ethan. I’m afraid he’s too influenced by the girls. Ethan jumps and bounces, hardly still for a second. Barks like a dog, howls at the sky. Ethan is yanked inside by Gracie’s arm. INT. CHEMICAL LABORATORY - AFTERNOON Dr. Mister and Mom clean up the lab counters, pour beakers into a slop sink. MOM They must be getting back around now. They usually beat me home. DR. MISTER My wife and I haven’t been able to have any. It must be great to come home to children. MOM (struck by thought) Why, yes, I guess it is. INT. OFFICE - AFTERNOON Dad pushes unending forms and papers across the desk. Mrs. Boss fills out all the forms, hundreds of signatures. 6. MRS. BOSS So what about you, Mr. Family? Do you really have a family? Hahaha. Dad rolls his eyes. He’s never heard that one before. DAD Yeah. Four kids. MRS. BOSS They must keep you busy. What do you do for fun? Fun? DAD The rest of this script is unavailable for preview. Please contact the author to view the script in its entirety.