COLD OPEN
FADE IN:
INT. CAPE CHARLES TOWN HALL — EVENING
A modest conference room with fluorescent lighting that flickers intermittently. KAREN sits across from TOWN MANAGER (tired expression, coffee-stained tie). BOB, GARY, and CAROL flank Karen with matching “SANCTUARY NOW” t-shirts. DENNIS and JASMINE sit in the back, looking like reluctant chaperones.
TITLE CARD: “Three Weeks After The Great Juggalo Awakening”
KAREN (spreading papers dramatically): Mr. Town Manager, we present our formal petition demanding Cape Charles declare itself a sanctuary city!
TOWN MANAGER (glancing at petition): Ms. Hoffman, Cape Charles has a population of 1,009 people. We have one part-time police officer and a budget smaller than most people’s mortgages.
BOB (adjusting his glasses): That’s exactly why we need sanctuary status! To protect our vulnerable populations!
TOWN MANAGER : What vulnerable populations? The Hendersons’ cat that keeps getting stuck in trees?
GARY (consulting his color-coded notes): There are dozens of undocumented residents here! I’ve been tracking license plates!
TOWN MANAGER: Gary, those are tourists. They come here for vacation.
CAROL: But what about the moral imperative? The historical precedent?
TOWN MANAGER (rubbing temples): Carol, you’re a retired kindergarten teacher. Last month you called the police because someone parked in “your” spot at the farmers market.
DENNIS raises his hand tentatively.
DENNIS: Maybe we could discuss what specific protections you’re looking for? I mean, what problems are we actually trying to solve?
KAREN (whirling around): Dennis! Whose side are you on?
JASMINE (not looking up from her notebook): He’s asking reasonable questions, Karen. That’s not picking sides.
TOWN MANAGER: Look, folks, I appreciate your passion, but Cape Charles can’t just declare itself a sanctuary city. There are legal implications, federal funding issues—
KAREN (standing dramatically): So you’re saying NO to justice? NO to human dignity?
GARY: Follow the Money!
TOWN MANAGER: I’m saying no to a lawsuit that would bankrupt our town over an issue that doesn’t actually affect us.
BOB: This is tyranny!
GARY: Fascism!
CAROL: I’m going to write a strongly worded letter to the editor of the Mirror!
BOB: Not the Mirror! Wayne Creed is a Neo-Nazi, Fascist, goosestepping MAGA bootlicker!
TOWN MANAGER: Carol, you ARE an editor. Of the church newsletter.
The Town Manager starts gathering his papers.
TOWN MANAGER: This meeting is adjourned. My wife is holding dinner, and frankly, her pot roast is more appealing than this conversation.
He heads for the door.
KAREN (calling after him): This isn’t over, Sir! The resistance has only just begun!
TOWN MANAGER (pausing): Karen, please don’t do anything that requires me to explain to the county why our municipal building is covered in… anything. We still haven’t recovered from the Tesla incident.
Door closes. The group sits in stunned silence.
KAREN (determined): Then we move to Phase Two.
DENNIS: Please tell me Phase Two doesn’t involve nudity.
KAREN: Phase Two is a peaceful occupation. We don’t leave until our demands are met!
JASMINE (looking up from notes): That’s… that’s illegal, Karen.
KAREN: Civil disobedience, Jasmine! Like Gandhi! Like Martin Luther King!
BOB: Like the Freedom Riders!
GARY: Like Occupy Wall Street!
CAROL: Like when I chained myself to the library during the budget cuts!
DENNIS: Carol, you chained yourself to the book return slot for twenty minutes.
CAROL: It was symbolic!
TITLE SEQUENCE: “Karen’s Sanctuary Stand” with protest signs being fashioned from office supplies
ACT ONE
INT. CAPE CHARLES TOWN HALL — LATER THAT EVENING
The group has “occupied” the conference room. They’ve pushed tables together to create a makeshift camp, complete with sleeping bags, a coffee maker they’ve borrowed from the break room, and multiple protest banners hung with masking tape.
KAREN (addressing the group like a general): Comrades! We are now officially occupying this seat of power until justice prevails!
BOB (unpacking an enormous duffel bag): I brought supplies! Granola bars, herbal tea, my emergency anxiety medication, and a battery-powered radio for morale!
GARY (setting up a laptop): I’m live-tweeting our occupation! Hashtag CapeCharlesSanctuary! We already have twelve followers!
CAROL (spreading out yoga mats): I’ve designated this corner as our meditation and bathroom anxiety space. The actual bathrooms are just down the hall, but I like to prepare mentally.
DENNIS and JASMINE observe from chairs they’ve pulled to the side.
DENNIS (quietly to Jasmine): How long do you think this lasts before someone calls the police?
JASMINE (typing): I’m betting four hours. Bob’s already eyeing the exit, and Gary keeps checking his phone like he’s expecting his wife to call.
DENNIS: Should we try to talk them out of this?
JASMINE: Are you kidding? This is gold for my book. Chapter Seven: “The Sanctuary Standoff.”
KAREN claps her hands for attention.
KAREN: Now, we need to organize ourselves! Bob, you’re in charge of supplies and morale. Gary, you handle social media and documentation. Carol, you’re our wellness coordinator.
CAROL: What does that mean exactly?
KAREN: Keep everyone’s spirits up! Lead stretches! Make sure nobody has any… incidents like at the Pee Pee protest.
CAROL: The human chain from the porta potty was actually quite spiritual.
KAREN: I meant Bob’s IBS episode, Carol.
BOB (defensive): That was stress-induced! And I warned everyone!
GARY (looking up from laptop): Guys, I hate to interrupt the revolutionary planning, but the town hall closes at 9 PM. The janitor is outside with keys.
They all freeze. Through the glass door, they can see JANITOR PETE (60s, extremely tired) jingling keys and checking his watch.
KAREN (panicking): Quick! Barricade the door!
BOB: With what?
KAREN: The conference table! Push it against the door!
They scramble to move furniture. The table is heavy and unwieldy. BOB immediately throws out his back.
BOB: Ow! Ow! Revolutionary warfare is harder than it looks!
CAROL: Maybe we should just explain the situation to Pete? He’s very reasonable.
GARY: I play pickleball with Pete. He’s not going to care about our sanctuary city demands.
JANITOR PETE knocks on the door.
JANITOR PETE (muffled through glass): Folks? I need to lock up. You all need to head home.
KAREN (shouting through door): We’re not leaving, Pete! This is a peaceful occupation!
JANITOR PETE: Ms. Hoffman, my shift ends in ten minutes. I’m not paid enough to deal with whatever this is.
DENNIS (approaching the door): Pete, hey, it’s Dennis Rodriguez. They’re staging a protest about the sanctuary city thing.
JANITOR PETE: The what now?
JASMINE: They want Cape Charles to become a sanctuary city.
JANITOR PETE (pause): For what? Birds?
BOB (still writhing on floor): Immigrants, Pete! Undocumented residents!
JANITOR PETE: What undocumented residents? The only people who live here year-round are super rich pinwods from the north.
GARY: That’s not the point! It’s about the principle!
JANITOR PETE (sighing): I’m going to call the town manager.
KAREN: No! Don’t call the Town Manager! We’ll negotiate directly with you! What are your demands?
JANITOR PETE: I don’t have demands, Ms. Hoffman. I have a mop bucket and fifteen minutes until my wife expects me home for Wheel of Fortune.
ACT TWO
INT. CAPE CHARLES TOWN HALL — 30 MINUTES LATER
TOWN MANAGER WILKINS has returned, still wearing his dinner napkin tucked into his shirt. He stands outside the conference room with JANITOR PETE, DEPUTY SHERIFF MARTINEZ (40s, extremely patient), DENNIS, and JASMINE.
TOWN MANAGER (to Deputy): How exactly do we handle this? They’re trespassing, but they’re also… well, they’re Karen and her friends.
DEPUTY: I’ve been dealing with Karen since the Tesla incident. Standard protocol says we ask them to leave, give them a warning, then cite them for trespassing.
TOWN MANAGER: And if they don’t leave?
DEPUTY: Then I have to arrest four senior citizens for occupying a municipal building over an issue that doesn’t exist.
JANITOR PETE: Can’t we just turn off the lights and air conditioning? They’ll leave eventually.
DENNIS: That seems unnecessarily harsh.
JASMINE: Also probably illegal.
Through the door, they can hear the group inside having an argument.
BOB (from inside): I need my anxiety medication, but it’s in my car!
GARY (from inside): Twitter engagement is down! People aren’t taking our occupation seriously!
CAROL (from inside): Does anyone else smell something funny? Did someone forget to change their socks? Bob?
BOB: I have issues, okay?!!
KAREN (from inside): Focus, people! We’re making history!
TOWN MANAGER(to Deputy): What if we just… wait them out? How long can they realistically stay in there?
DEPUTY: Bob has a prostate the size of a grapefruit and Gary’s wife expects him home by eight for their evening medication routine. I give them two hours, max.
DENNIS: Maybe I should try talking to them? As a friend?
JASMINE: I’ll come with you. They trust us now… sort of.
TOWN MANAGER: Do it. If we can resolve this without arrests or news coverage, I’ll owe you both dinner.
Dennis and Jasmine approach the door.
DENNIS (knocking): Karen? It’s Dennis and Jasmine. Can we come in and talk?
KAREN (suspiciously): Are you here as negotiators or as spies for the MAGA establishment?
JASMINE: We’re here as friends who don’t want to see you get arrested.
Sound of furniture being moved. The door opens partially.
KAREN (peeking out): Just you two. No authority figures.
They slip inside. The conference room looks like a college dorm during finals week, complete with snack wrappers, multiple coffee cups, and Carol doing stretches in the corner.
GARY (excitedly): Dennis! Jasmine! Are you here to join the occupation? We could use the diversity for our social media posts!
JASMINE: Gary, we’ve talked about this.
DENNIS: What exactly are you hoping to accomplish here? Specifically?
KAREN: We stay until the establishment agrees to make Cape Charles a sanctuary city!
BOB (from his position lying flat on the floor): And until someone brings me my back medication. This floor is murder on my lumbar region.
CAROL: I found some expired Advil in the break room fridge, Bob.
BOB: Why was Advil in the refrigerator?
CAROL: Next to someone’s leftover Chinese food from 2023.
DENNIS: Okay, setting aside Bob’s medical needs, Karen, what happens if the town can’t legally become a sanctuary city? What if there are federal regulations that prevent it?
KAREN: Then we stay here until they change the federal regulations!
JASMINE: That could take years.
GARY: I can’t stay years! My wife will kill me! We have a cruise booked for next month!
KAREN: Gary! Revolution requires sacrifice!
GARY: I’ve already paid the deposit!
CAROL raises her hand.
CAROL: Quick question—do sanctuary cities have better bathroom facilities? Because that’s really what started this whole thing for me.
KAREN: Carol, this is about justice, not plumbing!
CAROL: But plumbing is part of human dignity, isn’t it?
DENNIS: She’s not wrong.
ACT THREE
INT. CAPE CHARLES TOWN HALL — 2 HOURS LATER
The occupation is falling apart. BOB is still on the floor, now using his duffel bag as a pillow. GARY is frantically texting. CAROL has set up a makeshift altar in the corner with office supplies. KAREN paces like a caged animal.
BOB (weakly): I can’t feel my legs. Is this what martyrdom feels like?
GARY (panicking): Guys, my wife is threatening to come down here with my blood pressure medication and a wooden spoon. She’s not bluffing about the spoon.
CAROL (lighting a scented candle she found in someone’s desk): I’m trying to create a peaceful energy, but this room has very stagnant chi.
KAREN: Everyone stay strong! Gandhi fasted for weeks! Martin Luther King spent months in jail!
DENNIS: Karen, it’s been three hours and Bob needs medical attention.
JASMINE: Also, Gandhi and Dr. King were fighting against actual oppression, not the lack of undocumented immigrants in a town of 1,000 people.
KAREN (spinning around): So you think our cause is pointless?
JASMINE: I think your methods might be disproportionate to the actual problem you’re trying to solve.
There’s a knock on the door. Through the glass, they see a MIDDLE-AGED WOMAN with a stern expression and a wooden spoon.
GARY (terror in his voice): Oh God. It’s Margaret. She brought the spoon.
MARGARET (through the door): Gary Michael Thompson, you have exactly thirty seconds to come out of there before I embarrass you in front of your friends!
GARY: She used my middle name. She’s serious.
KAREN: Don’t give in to spousal intimidation, Gary!
MARGARET: Karen Hoffman, I can hear you! You’re corrupting my husband with your nonsense again!
KAREN (shouting back): Your husband is fighting for justice, Margaret!
MARGARET: My husband has high blood pressure and missed his evening medication because he’s playing pretend revolution with you people!
Uncomfortable silence.
BOB (from the floor): Did she say high blood pressure? Because I might need to check mine now.
CAROL: I brought emergency glucose tablets! They’re next to my anxiety crystals!
DENNIS (to Karen): Maybe it’s time to consider a strategic retreat?
KAREN: Retreats are for quitters!
Another knock. This time it’s the TOWN MANAGER with a pizza box.
TOWN MANAGER (through door): I brought dinner! Pepperoni pizza! Can we talk like adults?
BOB (perking up): Is it from the Dead has Risen or Toadies?
TOWN MANAGER: Better. It’s Digiorno, with extra cheese, Bob.
BOB: Oh, that’s the best!! I might be willing to negotiate.
KAREN: Bob! Don’t let them buy your revolutionary spirit with processed meat products!
BOB: Karen, I haven’t eaten since the granola bar. My revolutionary spirit is running on empty.
ACT FOUR
INT. CAPE CHARLES TOWN HALL — 30 MINUTES LATER
Everyone sits around the conference table sharing pizza. The protest banners are still up, but the mood has shifted from “revolutionary occupation” to “community potluck.” MARGARET sits next to GARY, occasionally swatting him with the wooden spoon when he gets too animated.
TOWN MANAGER: Look, Karen, I understand your passion. I really do. But Cape Charles becoming a sanctuary city is like a goldfish declaring itself a whale sanctuary.
KAREN (through a mouthful of pizza): But what about the principle of the thing?
TOWN MANAGER: What principle? We don’t have any undocumented residents to protect! The only thing we protect are our self-interests…I mean, you know…
DENNIS: Like STR owners, business owner, rich tourists…
TOWN MANAGER: Alright Dennis, are you done?
Everyone turns to look at Dennis.
DENNIS: Look, there are probably a few people working seasonal jobs who might not have perfect documentation. Restaurant workers, cleaning staff, landscaping crews.
JASMINE: That’s true. But a sanctuary city designation might actually hurt them more than help them. It could draw unwanted federal attention to a community that’s been pretty much ignored.
TOWN MANAGER: Exactly! We’re flying under the radar here. Sometimes that’s the best protection.
KAREN (considering): So you’re saying that officially protecting undocumented residents might actually put them in more danger?
GARY (having a revelation): Wait, so our sanctuary city campaign could actually hurt the people we’re trying to help?
MARGARET: Gary, eat your pizza and let the adults talk.
BOB (sitting up for the first time in hours): So we’re occupying this building to demand something that might make the situation worse?
CAROL: This is very confusing. Can someone explain it again using interpretive dance?
DENNIS: Carol, interpretive dance won’t help here.
CAROL: It helps me process complex information.
TOWN MANAGER: Here’s a compromise. Instead of a sanctuary city designation, what if we just… quietly continue doing what we’re already doing? Not asking questions we don’t need to ask, treating everyone with dignity, focusing on actual community problems?
KAREN: But that’s not… revolutionary.
JASMINE: Sometimes the most radical thing you can do is just be decent to people without making a big announcement about it.
DENNIS: The communities that actually protect vulnerable populations often do it quietly. Drawing attention isn’t always helpful.
MARGARET: Like when Karen announced her Tesla protest on Facebook and the mayor started parking three blocks away from his house? Way to go, Karen.
KAREN (defensive): That was effective civic engagement!
MARGARET: Karen, you traumatized a man who drives a EV on weekends.
Long pause as Karen considers this.
KAREN (slowly): So you’re saying that sometimes the most effective activism is… not being activist-y about it?
BOB: Mind blown.
GARY: This is like that time I tried to help by reorganizing my neighbor’s garage and accidentally set it on fire.
CAROL: Or when I tried to improve the church potluck by replacing everyone’s recipes with vegan alternatives, and no one came.
TOWN MANAGER: Exactly. Sometimes helping means not changing everything, just… helping.
KAREN (standing slowly): Then I… we… declare this occupation… strategically concluded?
BOB: Does that mean we can go home? My back is screaming.
MARGARET: Gary, get your lazy butt up and let’s go home.
CAROL: I need to return this scented candle to whoever’s desk I took it from.
DEPUTY (appearing in the doorway): Everything resolved in here? No arrests needed?
TOWN MANAGER: Crisis averted, Deputy. Just some citizens… exercising their right to assemble and eat pizza.
KAREN (gathering her things): For the record, this isn’t defeat. This is… tactical evolution.
Dennis and Jasmine smile at each other as the group moves outside.
ACT FIVE
EXT. CAPE CHARLES TOWN HALL — LATER THAT EVENING
The group stands outside in the parking lot. BOB is being helped to Gary’s car by Margaret, who’s still carrying the wooden spoon. CAROL carries the borrowed scented candle and several office supplies she’s “liberated.”
KAREN (to Dennis and Jasmine): I want you both to know that even though tonight didn’t go exactly as planned, I learned something important.
DENNIS: What’s that?
KAREN: Sometimes the best way to help people is to not make their problems about yourself.
JASMINE: Wow. That’s… awesome, Karen.
KAREN: Don’t get used to it. I’m still planning to organize a protest against the new parking meters.
DENNIS: Parking meters?
KAREN: They’re installing three of them next month. It’s basically taxation without representation!
GARY (from inside the car): Karen, those are for the tourists! To fund the public restrooms you’ve been demanding!
KAREN: Oh.
Pause.
KAREN: Well, then I’ll organize a celebration of the new parking meters!
CAROL: Can we have interpretive dance at the celebration?
KAREN: Carol, we’ve discussed this.
BOB (weakly from the car): Can someone just drive me home? I think I pulled something when we moved that table.
MARGARET: Gary, start the car before your friends recruit you for another revolution.
As they prepare to leave, the TOWN MANAGER approaches Karen.
TOWN MANAGER: Karen, for what it’s worth, your heart’s in the right place. Maybe next time we could start with a conversation instead of an occupation?
KAREN: Steve, that’s dangerously moderate thinking.
TOWN MANAGER: I’ll take that risk.
Cars start pulling away. Karen waves goodbye like a general sending off troops.
DENNIS: Need a ride home?
KAREN: I think I’ll walk. I need time to process tonight’s tactical evolution.
JASMINE: Will you be okay?
KAREN: I’ll be fine. Besides, I need to plan my next campaign.
DENNIS: Please tell me it doesn’t involve nudity, vandalism, or occupying government buildings.
KAREN: Dennis, you worry too much. How much trouble could a parking meter celebration cause?
Dennis and Jasmine exchange a look of pure terror.
Karen walks away, already pulling out her phone to start making calls.
KAREN (into phone): Bob? It’s Karen. I have an idea for our next event. How do you feel about a flash mob…?
Her voice fades as she disappears into the night.
DENNIS: Think we should follow her?
JASMINE: Let’s give her a five-minute head start.
TAG
INT. KAREN’S LIVING ROOM — THE NEXT MORNING
Karen sits with coffee, surrounded by planning materials. Her laptop shows a Google search for “How to Organize a Flash Mob.” Her phone rings.
KAREN: Cape Charles Resistance, Karen speaking.
VOICE (filtered): Ms. Hoffman? This is the Cape Charles Parks and Recreation Department. We understand you’re planning some kind of… celebration?
KAREN: A parking meter flash mob! To celebrate civic progress!
VOICE: Ma’am, flash mobs require permits. And insurance. And—
KAREN: (interrupting): Permits are tools of oppression!
VOICE: Ma’am, this is for a parking meter celebration. You literally just told us you support the parking meters.
Long pause.
KAREN: This is more complicated than I thought.
VOICE: Welcome to local government, Ms. Hoffman.
KAREN: (hanging up, to herself): Maybe I should call Dennis and Jasmine…
She dials. The phone rings.
KAREN: Dennis? It’s Karen. Do you have a minute…
FADE TO BLACK
CREDITS ROLL
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales, is entirely coincidental.
About the Author
Love it!