Chapter Text
EPISODE 1: COCAINE OR DILDO
EXT. BEACH - MORNING
A blazing sun rises over the calm, crystalline ocean. The SS GILDED WAVES cruise ship is docked right in front of THREE REPUBLICAN MOMS.
They lounge on beach chairs, pristine in their red-white-and-blue swimwear from Dillards, sun visors, and oversized sunglasses. They're the NO MONEY FOR NORDSTROM MOMS: LEANNE, KELLY, and CHERYL.
KELLY
Oh my goodness she looks so washed up. I heard she's trying another transformation.
LEANNE
Surgical?
KELLY
Worse. Spiritual.
CHERYL
It's always those liberals thinking they're so high and mighty fixing what they call "mistakes." Like Donna's daughter, trying to start fresh. Shedding their scaly snake skin. But the funny thing about skin is it remembers. It scars. No matter how much you sandblast it...like Donna.
LEANNE
You can't sandblast your soul.
KELLY
Amen to that sister!
Just as they sip their drinks — SPLASH. A BODY FALLS FROM THE TOP OF THE FRAME.
Face-first into the ocean, just yards away from them. The sound is visceral. Flesh slapping water, a dead thud beneath the splash. Their eyes go wide and they scream.
CLOSE UP: A baggie of cocaine falls out of the corpse's pocket.
KELLY
(shrieking)
Oh my God!!
CHERYL
(terrified)
Jesus Christ Almighty!
LEANNE
(high and mighty)
LADIES! DO NOT USE OUR LORD'S NAME IN VAIN!
CHERYL
(defensive)
I'm sorry I was in SHOCK Leanne. That is a DEAD. BODY.
LEANNE
(pissed off)
THIS IS NOT WHAT I PAID FOR! WHERE IS THAT GOSH DARN MANAGER!
A dildo comes soaring off the boat and hits Leanne in the face. Leanne screams in tantrum mode.
Kelly just keeps screaming in horror. We ZOOM into her mouth like it's an endless ocean.
And it turns into an ENDLESS OCEAN. Then a COSMIC PORTAL. Then we see the SKY.
EXT. PORT OF MONTE CARLO – DAY
2 WEEKS AGO.
Panning down from the sky, we see The SS Gilded Waves, the most extravagant cruise ship ever built, looms over the dock. A floating palace dripping in old money excess, influencer delusion, and corporate greed. The top decks boast infinity pools filled with Fiji water.
Two stewards in their last year of college stand outside waiting for the people to arrive.
MICAH DIAZ, sun-kissed, with the easy, flirtatious energy of a Florida surfer who looks like he belongs in a thirst trap more than a uniform. He's a semi-rich pretty boy who's parents got him this gig but is also an influencer. His uniform is unbuttoned just enough to suggest thirst-trap potential.
KAI BRATLOW-TWIST, half-Asian, slim, and wired with an awkward charm, stands awkwardly, nervously adjusting his uniform. He's the not so rich anxious twink who needs the money.
MICAH
Here can you hold this man?
KAI
Uh yeah.
Micah hands Kai his tray of champagne and Kai tries to balance both. Kai gulps as Micah pops another button, looking at Micah's chest and then nervously looking away. Kai desperately tries not to drop the tray of champagne.
A fanfare plays, a chorus of violins and auto-tuned TikTok sounds, as passengers prepare to board. Kai almost drops the tray.
MICAH
Thanks.
Micah takes his tray back. The two guys turn forwards.
CHANEL OBERLIN steps out of a gold-trimmed Rolls Royce, wearing a diamond-encrusted life vest. Just in case. A BELLBOY who's somehow even more nervous than Kai tries to help her.
CHANEL
(to a bellboy)
Touch my bags and I'll make sure your grandkids are still in debt.
Chanel flirtatiously looks at Micah and takes a glass of champagne. Micah looks back and nudges Kai.
LONDON TIPTON follows, draped in Louis Vuitton luggage, struggling to understand the concept of "steerage."
LONDON
So... where's my dad's suite? And also, the law is something you get to break when you're rich, right? Wait where's Trina?
CHANEL
She couldn't afford first class.
LONDON
But she lives in Hollywood?
SECOND-CLASS BOARDING
Elsewhere on the ship, TRINA VEGA steps onto the gangway like she's making a Broadway entrance, arms outstretched, eyes gleaming.
TRINA
(to absolutely no one)
Ladies and gentlemen, the star of the show has ARRIVED!
Silence.
Trina clears her throat. A couple of crew members glance at her in mild confusion. She narrows her eyes.
TRINA
Fine. You don't appreciate talent. But you will.
She stomps onboard.
BACK AT FIRST CLASS BOARDING:
TANYA MCQUOID stumbles behind, clutching a bottle of Chardonnay like a rosary.
TANYA
(slurring)
I don't know what's happening, but I love boats. Are there gays on this one? They always plan the best murders, uh, I mean parties.
TRISHA PAYTAS is live-streaming as she walks up the gangway, wearing a Titanic-era cosplay dress but in neon pink.
TRISHA
(crying, mid-stream,)
Oh my god, this is literally like Titanic but, like—I'm so scared of water, you guys—
LADY RAVEN, a pop sensation, glides through dramatically.
HRH COLLECTION (ALEXANDRA PEARCE) storms through, screaming into her phone. She is wearing an oversized designer blazer, huge sunglasses, and carrying a ridiculous amount of jewelry on her arms.
She is clutching her tiny, fluffy white dog, MING, stuffed inside a luxury designer tote. Ming's wide, slightly confused eyes dart around, as if silently begging for help.
Her ASSISTANT is pushing her baby LILETTE BIJOU JONBENET PEARCE in a stroller.
HRH COLLECTION
(screaming)
THIS BOAT IS FULL OF BROKE PEOPLE! I NEED SECURITY! GET OUT OF MY FACE, YOU BROKE LITTLE RATS! I swear, everyone here is a little broke rat.
The bellboy looks visibly nervous as she walks by swinging around her emotional support brush. Ming lets out the tiniest snort. HRH Collection gasps.
HRH COLLECTION
SEE?! EVEN MING THINKS YOU'RE BROKE!
THEWIZARDLIZ enters in a black fur coat, swiping at peasants like they're mere dust.
THEWIZARDLIZ
(to the same bellboy)
You breathe near me, you're FIRED. This is my boundary.
ANDREW TATE is escorted in, surrounded by a HORDE OF BALD HENCHMEN and VAGUE EASTERN EUROPEAN WOMEN.
ANDREW
(sneering at a woman in 3rd class)
If you can't afford first class, you DESERVE to be poor. The world is a game of chess. I AM A KING.
The WOMAN rolls her eyes and walks away.
ELON MUSK is trying to buy the boat mid-boarding.
ELON
(tweeting mid-stride)
"Just bought the ocean. It's mid."
A party bus full of college football players pulls up. NATE JACOBS and RAFE CAMERON are already fist-fighting for no reason.
NATE
(shoving Rafe)
YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW TO BE A PSYCHO, BRO.
RAFE
YOU WANNA SEE PSYCHO?! I'LL SHOW YOU PSYCHO.
DENISE HEMPHILL storms into frame in full fake-police swagger: aviators, badge lanyard, chunky boots, and a taser she definitely already fired by accident.
DENISE
(shouting)
Uh uh! Not today! I just got this wig set and I am not dodging punches.
She swings her nightstick with righteous force. She cracks it once in the air for punctuation. The boys board the ship.
TRACKING SHOT: A stewardess near the gangway, CAYETANA GRAJERA PANDO, runs up. She is dressed in a crisp employee uniform with dreams of wearing something more, willing to do anything to do so.
CAYETANA
Sorry I'm late.
MICAH
No worries princess. I was late too.
Kai clears his throat way too quiet for anyone to hear.
KYLE SCHEIBLE, the human embodiment of pretentious indifference, straggles behind like he's being forced to attend a social event he's morally opposed to.
KYLE
(scoffing)
This whole thing is, like, a grotesque display of late-stage capitalism.
Kai hesitantly steps forward.
KAI
Sir, you can't smoke—
Kyle blows a puff of smoke directly into the air, completely ignoring Kai.
He pulls out a dog-eared copy of Infinite Jest from his pocket, flipping it open casually as he drags his suitcase behind him with minimal effort.
Cayetana overhears him. She watches him with intrigue. Because Cayetana is not just an employee. She wants to be rich. She wants to be in first class. She wants a life filled with luxury, wealth, and the kind of carelessness only the rich are allowed to have. And Kyle, despite his whole "I hate wealth" aesthetic, still comes from money. He is exactly the kind of person who doesn't care about privilege because he's never had to. And that? That is attractive.
Kyle glances at her, barely looking up from his book.
KYLE
David Foster Wallace would've thought this whole thing was hilarious.
She swoons. Kyle smirks, flicking his cigarette to the ground before walking aboard.
A few moments later, ROSS LYNCH strolls in. He's dressed like a man who just came from a surf photoshoot and didn't have time to change.
Cayetana approaches him.
CAYETANA
Welcome to the Gilded Waves. First time on a luxury cruise?
Ross grins.
ROSS
Nah, but it's the first time I've been on one where I'm not getting stalked by teenage girls. Feels good.
He walks up the ramp, oblivious to the fact that half the influencers onboard have already started thirst-tweeting about him.
EXT. THE SECOND CLASS DECK - DAY
SMOKECHEDDATHEASSGETTA enters.
SMOKECHEDDATHAASSGETTA
(hyping himself up)
Y'all, I'm about to drop a HOT track on this cruise. It's called "Titanic But Make It Trap."
QUEN BLACKWELL is filming a TikTok and dancing her way onto the ship with ALEX CONSANI, both dressed like fashion baddies.
QUEN
I'M ON A BOAT, BITCHES! WATCH ME WERK—
Quen almost trips but keeps dancing. A RANDOM PASSENGER walks by Alex with shock.
RANDOM PASSENGER
Oh my God is that Hunter Schafer?
ALEX
It's the fact that you guys think I'm Jules from Euphoria like bitch do you not know we're the same person?
Quen suddenly gasps, pointing.
QUEN
OH MY GOD, LOOK AT THAT OLD MAN. HE LOOKS LIKE A MYSTERIOUS MILLIONAIRE WITH A SECRET.
Alex turns dramatically.
ALEX
Wait, I wanna marry him.
The MYSTERIOUS MILLIONAIRE (a confused elderly passenger) slowly shuffles away.
Alex sighs, pulling Quen onto the ship with her.
ALEX
Okay, whatever, let's just slay.
QUEN
I'm gonna find a rich husband and gaslight him immediately.
CHLOE FERRY from Geordie Shore storms onto the shore with her rhinestone suitcase.
CHLOE
(losing her mind for no reason, eyes wild)
I AM SO FOOKIN' ANGRY RIGHT NOW!
PEARL steps onto the ship with a crazed look in her eyes, wearing a makeshift costume of old Hollywood glamour. She is talking to no one.
PEARL
(dramatically, to an imaginary audience)
No! I'm a star! Please, I'm a star!
Denise Hemphill eyes her warily.
PEARL
(whispering, to herself)
I'll be famous. They'll all see. THEY'LL ALL SEE.
Pearl boards, humming an off-key show tune, and accidentally walks into Chanel Oberlin, who shrieks in disgust. Chanel storms up to the security guard, who unbeknownst to her is Denise.
CHANEL
(to the back of Denise's head, not knowing it's Denise)
I was literally just touched by a poor person. And not even a normal poor person. Like, a psychotic poor person.
Denise turns around.
DENISE
(turning around slowly)
Hold up. Chanel Oberlin?! What are you doing here white girl?
CHANEL
(freezing)
Denise?! What the fuck are you doing here after rubbing uglies with my man!
TERRI JOE floats onto the ship like a Southern Baptist Grim Reaper, clutching a Bible and a Red Solo Cup full of Dr. Pepper. She stares everyone down, immediately clocking the sin in the air. She won a church raffle to go on this cruise, but to her this is a missionary.
TERRI JOE
(pointing at Lady Raven)
Devil-worshippin' harlot hussy!
(to Elon Musk, squinting)
I don't trust you. Something ain't right. You look like an alien. And not one of God's.
She makes direct eye contact with TheWizardLiz, who refuses to look away. They stare in mutual battle mode, as if they're two ancient gods about to destroy the planet with sheer willpower.
TERRI JOE
Repent.
THEWIZARDLIZ
Get out, you are a clown.
Neither backs down.
INT. THE LOWER DECK - DAY
CHIP GIRL, one of the stewards, and her daughter LUCY, a little girl with existential wisdom, watch them board. Chip Girl puts a bag of chips on her head.
CHIP GIRL
I'm so crazy.
LUCY
(sighing)
What are they doing? Why are they like... ruining their lives? They can't do this. They just gotta work it through.
MARY ZHENG, the Guest Services Manager, walks around.
MARY
(throwing her hands up)
I know how to make fire, but nobody gives a fuck about that in the new era!
EXT. FIRST-CLASS DECK
AZEALIA BANKS arrives alone, dressed like a villain from an unreleased Matrix sequel, already typing furiously on her phone. The cruise staff doesn't even check her ticket. They know better.
AZEALIA
(to no one in particular)
If I get bed bugs on this raggedy-ass boat, I will personally set it on fire.
She storms up the gangway. Terri Joe rolls up to her.
TERRI JOE
(to Azealia Banks)
Demon spawn of Beelzebub himself!
AZEALIA
Bitch fuck off.
Behind her, CHARLI XCX and TROYE SIVAN arrive together, both wearing oversized sunglasses, both looking like they were ripped straight from the pages of a Balenciaga ad.
Charli hands her passport to the staff without looking at them.
CHARLI
So, like, is there a DJ on this thing? I need to know before I get locked in the middle of the ocean with these freaks.
Troye looks around, taking in the horrifying display of unchecked wealth and influencer delusion. He nudges Charli.
TROYE
Why do I feel like someone is going to die on this ship?
Charli shrugs, unbothered.
CHARLI
Yeah, but that's, like, kinda the vibe, no?
They both walk onboard.
A single leather-gloved hand emerges from the window, followed by a flash of glitter, latex, and avant-garde confusion.
It's JULIA FOX, stepping out of the car like she's walking the Met Gala carpet, even though this is literally just a boat. Her outfit is somehow made entirely out of recycled cruise tickets and melted-down security cameras, sculpted into an uncomfortably structured corset. She strides toward the gangway, sunglasses perched low on her nose.
Micah clears his throat.
MICAH
Welcome aboard the Gilded Waves. May I see your ticket?
Julia laughs softly, shaking her head.
JULIA
Oh, babe, I don't do tickets.
She keeps walking.
Kai and Micah are too stunned to stop her, watching her walk away. Kai knows that's Julia Fox.
A moment later, LovelyPeaches appears from nowhere, leaning toward Micah with a smirk.
LOVELYPEACHES
She just ate you up.
Before Micah can even process what just happened, PARIS HILTON steps out of her limo. She is glowing, radiant, effortlessly perfect, as if she has been bathed in golden light from birth. She lowers her oversized diamond-studded sunglasses, taking a slow, glamorous look at the ship. Then, she tilts her head and flips her hair.
PARIS
That's hot.
Kai stumbles forward, flustered.
KAI
Ms. Hilton, welcome aboard—
Paris waves a perfectly manicured hand and picks up her glass of champagne.
PARIS
I know.
She waltzes up the gangway like she personally owns the entire ocean. The ship practically bows to her presence.
Paris and Julia Fox make eye contact briefly. A long pause. Then, Julia nods approvingly.
JULIA
Wow. That was so editorial.
Paris flips her hair again.
PARIS
Duh.
A LUXURY STRETCH LIMO PULLS UP.
The doors swing open like the gates of hell, and stepping out, one-by-one, in slow motion, are:
BRANDI GLANVILLE (The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills) – already tipsy, adjusting her massive sunglasses, ready to fight someone within the hour.
KANDI BURRUSS (The Real Housewives of Atlanta) – calm, collected, but internally ready to read everyone for filth.
NENE LEAKES (The Real Housewives of Atlanta) – iconic, immediately judging everyone.
TAMRA JUDGE (The Real Housewives of Orange County) – carrying enough drama to sink the ship herself.
LISA RINNA (The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills) – louder than the ship's foghorn, swinging her oversized designer bag, ready to stir up drama before the boat even departs.
SHEREE WHITFIELD (The Real Housewives of Atlanta) – serving high fashion and side-eyes, sipping from a custom water bottle labeled "Who Gon' Check Me, Boo?" as she scopes out her next frenemy.
Lisa immediately does a dramatic hair flip, wearing oversized sunglasses, a skintight animal-print jumpsuit, and carrying a bedazzled bag that says "OWN IT."
She poses like she's about to step onto a runway, even though she is literally just walking onto a boat.
LISA
(striking a pose)
HELLOOOOOOOOOO, SHIP OF WHORES!!!
The entire group turns.
Kandi puts her sunglasses down, deadpan.
KANDI
Girl, what?
Lisa does a full spin, basking in the attention.
LISA
I just feel like this is gonna be such a BEAUTIFUL trip! Right?! Right?!
KAI
Welcome to the SS Gilded Waves, ladies. May I—
Brandi cuts him off, dramatically waving her hand.
BRANDI
Where's the alcohol?
Kai holds out the champagne tray. Brandi and Lisa take one. Lisa drinks it and tosses it aside.
Tamra scoffs.
TAMRA
Jesus, Brandi. It's not even noon.
Brandi gives her the fakest smile in existence.
BRANDI
Aw. That's cute. Like your relevance.
Kandi chokes on a laugh. Sheree is in the back on the phone.
SHEREE
I'm sitting here and I'm about to tear the fuck up because I am not happy. I am not happy that you would do this to my mother.
KANDI
Oh, this trip is gonna be a mess.
NENE
Uh Uh. Not the career shade honey! To Sheree getting married again!
Nene looks behind to see Sheree still on the phone.
SHEREE
(on the phone)
When I say I am beyond pissed off. I'm not fucking playing. I'm fucking livid. Girl this is your business.
(hangs up)
That bitch ain't never coming in this motherfucker again!
The CEO of UnitedHealthcare, BRIAN THOMPSON, walks up the ramp, looking exactly like the kind of man who profits off of other people's suffering. He pulls out his phone and calls his assistant.
BRIAN
(on the phone)
Yeah, just make sure that claim doesn't go through. I don't care if she needs the surgery, tell her to start a GoFundMe.
He laughs and hangs up. A LIFELESS WAITRESS hands him a flute of champagne.
LIFELESS WAITRESS
Welcome aboard, Mr. Thompson.
Brian takes a sip and grimaces.
BRIAN
This tastes like someone poured it out of a can.
She smiles passive aggressively.
LIFELESS WAITRESS
That's because it was.
BRIAN
That is so unsanitary.
Brian scoffs and keeps walking.
From a few feet away, LUIGI MANGIONE watches him closely, adjusting the sleeves of his security uniform. He keeps his expression blank, but his eyes track Brian's every move. Luigi adjusts the ID badge hanging from his neck, listing him as part of the ship's security team. He checks the gun tucked inside his waistband.
BACK IN SECOND CLASS.
MATT RIFE struts onto the ship, scanning the crowd.
MATT
Oh, man. I've got, like, ten solid minutes of cruise ship material already.
A couple of people laugh. He smirks, doing the math in his head about whether this gig will get him canceled or get him a Netflix special.
MATT
Hey, quick question, is this boat, like, full of billionaires and deranged influencers, or—
He stops as he sees Andrew Tate, Elon Musk, and the WizardLiz all arguing about who is the most powerful person on the ship.
MATT
Oh. Got it.
He steps onboard, already drafting a stand-up set in his head.
CAPTAIN
(over PA system)
Ladies and gentlemen, this is a final boarding call. Welcome aboard SS Gilded Waves. Thank you all so much for attending the launch of our ultra-luxury cruise. Please note that our VIP passengers in first class will be dining on gold-infused caviar tonight, while third-class passengers will be given a single saltine cracker and a strong suggestion to stop being poor. Just kidding! There is no third class. Enjoy your stay!
LOVELYPEACHES runs up and tries to board.
The other SECURITY GUARD stops her immediately.
SECURITY GUARD
Ma'am, this is a luxury cruise. You don't have a reservation.
LovelyPeaches stares at him, confused, like she didn't just climb over a security fence to get here.
LOVELYPEACHES
Umm... I live here.
The guard squints at her.
SECURITY GUARD
You... live on the cruise ship?
LOVELYPEACHES
Yeah. Since birth.
She tries to walk past him, completely unfazed. The security guard steps in front of her, blocking her path.
SECURITY GUARD
Ma'am, you're not allowed on this ship.
LovelyPeaches slowly processes this information.
Then, she takes a deep breath... and SHRIEKS at full volume.
LOVELYPEACHES
THIS SHIP IS RACIST!!!
The entire dock goes silent for a beat.
The security guard panics. They are not equipped to deal with this kind of PR nightmare. The security guard whispers frantically into his earpiece to the assistant manager MARY ZHENG, then looks up, sweating.
SECURITY GUARD
What do I do?
MARY (V.O.)
Just give her a room. Just... put her somewhere far away from the other guests.
LovelyPeaches smirks in victory and sprints onto the ship and she cackles and giggles.
The last arrival arrives from a black car. The door opens, and LOTTIE MATTHEWS steps out. She is serene, effortlessly composed, radiating an aura of both peace and quiet unease. She adjusts her flowing, earth-toned designer wrap dress, her eyes scanning the ship like she's assessing its energy.
MICAH
Uh... welcome aboard, Ms. Matthews.
Lottie gives a soft, knowing smile, tilting her head slightly.
LOTTIE
(softly)
This ship... it has a pulse.
Micah blinks, unsure how to respond.
Lottie reaches out, gently touching the metal railing of the ship as if she's feeling its energy.
She closes her eyes briefly, breathing deeply.
MICAH
(under his breath)
Nutjob.
But Kai watches her. He understands her for some reason.
LOTTIE
(low, almost to herself)
Lets give It what it wants.
Lottie smiles, eerily calm.
INT. SHIP HALLWAY
LUCY, the tiny child with the wisdom of an ancient monk, walks around with the energy of someone who's seen too much for her age. She immediately clocks the vibes and lets out a deep sigh, the kind only a 7-year-old burdened by the weight of the world can make.
She walks past Trina Vega screaming at a crew member and past Azealia Banks threatening to throw HRH Collection overboard, before shaking her head.
She tugs at Troye Sivan's sleeve.
LUCY
(calmly, to Troye)
What are they doing? Why are they like... ruining their lives?
Troye, mid-flirt with Ross Lynch, looks down at her in confusion.
TROYE
Uh. Being rich?
Lucy sighs again. She's seen enough.
She walks away and finds the only sane people on the ship: Chips Girl and Mary Zheng.
INT. SS GILDED WAVES – GRAND BALLROOM – FIRST DINNER
The Grand Ballroom is an over-the-top display of class disparity. At the center of the room, an enormous chandelier hangs precariously, dripping in gold and probably worth more than the GDP of several countries.
At the front of the room, a long table is reserved for the ultra-elite—first-class guests, influencers, and billionaires who think they own the ocean itself. Due to some disorganization, some second-class guests are sitting at the table.
LovelyPeaches sits at the table as well and refuses to leave. DAVID ZASLAV, the fat cunt who bought HBO and ruined everything, stands behind her with his arms crossed, waiting for his seat. An ANNOYED WAITER tries to diffuse the situation.
ANNOYED WAITER
Ma'am, you are not first class.
LovelyPeaches swats him away and he tries to move her but she is planted in her seat, acting like a dumb animal who doesn't understand while eating with her hands. The waiter gives up and walks away.
Seated together at the head of the table are Andrew Tate, Elon Musk, and Brian Thompson.
ANDREW
The problem with society is that men aren't allowed to be men anymore. This boat? Full of weaklings. I could take control of this whole thing in under an hour.
ELON
Yeah, I've been thinking of launching my own cruise line. Fully self-sustaining. Would only allow verified accounts onboard.
BRIAN
Oh, absolutely. Have you considered making it a private healthcare vessel? Charge people for lifeboats? I mean, why should rescue be free?
Luigi Mangione watches Brian Thompson from the shadows, gripping a steak knife a little too tightly.
We move down the table to see HRH Collection, TheWizardLiz, and Trisha Paytas.
HRH COLLECTION
I literally can't believe I have to sit at the same table as you broke little rats. If you're not a CEO or a dictator, why are you even here?
THEWIZARDLIZ
Silence. You are a peasant in the grand scheme of life. I will not be engaging.
TRISHA
(crying)
Oh my god, you guys, I literally just realized this is exactly like the Titanic. Am I Rose? Am I, like... gonna die?!
Trisha sobs into a $400 napkin while Lady Raven remains completely unbothered, sipping her champagne.
Brian looks at Ming sticking out of HRH Collection's purse in disgust. Ming is just minding his own business.
BRIAN
Excuse me, but this is a fancy dinner. Can you get that dog out of here? Why did you bring your mangy mutt anyways?
HRH COLLECTION
Are you joking?! ARE YOU JOKING?! YOU UGLY FUCKING CUNT! WHY IS THE FUCKING SUN OUT TODAY? WHY DID IT GET DARK TONIGHT? WHY IS THIS WHITE? LIKE THESE KINDS OF COMMENTS, YOU JUST RUIN MY DAY LIKE ARE YOU THAT THICK LIKE WHAT DO YOU MEAN WHY DID I BRING MY DOG? UMM BECAUSE I AM LIVING AND THROUGH TIME HAIR GROWS! DON'T FUCKING RUN UP ON ME. DON'T. THAT'S HOW YOU GET YOURSELF HURT. I'M GONNA FUCKING SWING ON YOU. SO IRRITATING
(to Ming in a baby voice)
Right Ming? How can they tell me that I can't just bring my puppy dog to eat a salad and leave! Because adoodadhadhdafucking couldn't do it! That's what they said! They said we cannot do and do. But I told them I would do it. Cuz you're my pookie poo! You're my little angel.
(back to Brian yelling)
YOU'RE GONNA FUCKING COME UP TO ME BITCH AND TELL ME TO GET MY DOG OUTSIDE? IT'S FUCKING MING! GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY FACE!
BRIAN
(taunting)
What is that your emotional support dog or something?
HRH COLLECTION
(exasperated)
You are so fucking evil. Why would you say that? I just wanna know why would you say that. Like don't speak to me! If you have a fucking problem, I don't know, just call the fucking cops I'd so much rather that! Don't speak to me. I came here to relax. I want you to leave me the motherfuck alone. That's it!
* * *
We move down more, seated together are Azealia Banks, Chanel Oberlin, London Tipton, and Paris Hilton.
AZEALIA
This steak is disgusting. Who do I have to fight to get a meal on this boat that doesn't taste like a White woman's Instagram recipe?
CHANEL
How about you fight your own career first?
AZEALIA
I will get you killed on this boat, sweetheart.
London Tipton claps excitedly.
LONDON
Yay! I love guilt!
Chanel throws her bread roll at London's forehead.
Paris smiles, flipping her hair.
PARIS
Jealousy is a disease. Get well soon.
Paris leans in toward London.
PARIS
Okay, babe, what's the vibe of this boat? I need to know if I should be, like, worried about getting Titanic'd.
London waves a hand dismissively.
LONDON
Oh, no, we're fine. If something happens, Daddy will send a helicopter for me.
Paris nods thoughtfully.
PARIS
That's hot.
Chanel waves over the Annoyed Waiter.
CHANEL
EXCUSE ME?! THIS CHAMPAGNE IS ROOM TEMPERATURE!
The Annoyed Waiter groans and rolls his eyes and walks over.
* * *
We move down to Ross Lynch and Matt Rife eating quietly, down to Trina Vega, SmokeCheddaThaAssGetta, and LovelyPeaches.
Ross is talking to a waiter like a normal person, while Matt is mentally writing a joke about how this entire cruise feels like a setup for a documentary about influencer failure.
SMOKECHEDDA
Yo, so like, is this free food? Or are we supposed to, like, tip the ocean?
TRINA
(to the waiter)
EXCUSE ME, CAN I HAVE A WHOLE CHICKEN? AND A SPOTLIGHT?
LOVELYPEACHES
I feel like I'm gonna fight someone tonight. Just for fun.
Matt Rife silently sips his drink, debating whether this cruise is his career's final resting place.
* * *
AT THE STAFF TABLE
Lucy, Chips Girl, and Mary Zheng sit in the smallest, least decorated section of the dining hall, eating what is essentially stale bread and mashed peas.
CHIPS GIRL
These people are actually insane.
LUCY
I don't understand why they do this to themselves. They could just... not.
MARY
I say we wait until one of the rich people gets murdered and take their suite.
The three clink glasses of tap water.
CAPTAIN
(over the intercom)
Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to your first dinner aboard the SS Gilded Waves. Please enjoy your meal!
A murmur ripples through the crowd.
* * *
Charli XCX leans over to Troye Sivan. Lady Raven sips her wine casually. Quen and Alex converse.
CHARLI
Wait... is this wine giving brat?
TROYE
Oh my god.
QUEN
Y'all, this room is giving survivor's guilt.
ALEX
Did you pray today? Did you pray today?
And then, Julia Fox makes her entrance.
She waltzes into the dining hall like she's about to deliver a TED Talk on the collapse of civilization. She doesn't walk to the first-class table so much as float toward it, her heels clicking dramatically against the marble floor.
HRH Collection is mid-rant about how this ship is full of broke rats, and Julia nods thoughtfully, as if taking notes for an art piece.
She slides into an empty chair between Charli XCX, Troye Sivan, and Lady Raven.
JULIA
(sipping champagne)
Wow. This is like... really decadent. It's giving... end-stage capitalism.
CHARLI XCX
It is, right?
JULIA
Yeah, I mean, this feels historical. Like, if the Titanic had, like, a reboot. But make it, like, editorial.
Lady Raven, who has not spoken a single word all evening, finally turns to her.
LADY RAVEN
Are you a seer?
Julia just smirks knowingly and sips her champagne.
Across the room, Chanel Oberlin grimaces in disgust.
CHANEL
Why does she sound like a voice-over from an A24 film?
AZEALIA
Because she is one.
Chanel tosses her napkin onto the table and dramatically stands up.
CHANEL
I need to go throw up somewhere expensive.
* * *
At a table separate long table from the influencers, billionaires, and unhinged socialites, a rowdy group of college football players sits hunched over plates stacked with steak and potatoes.
They are on this cruise for the coach's annual "Leadership Summit" designed to make them "better men"—but in reality, it's just a paid vacation for their coaches and an excuse to let them terrorize a floating city with their unchecked egos.
At the center of the chaos, Nate leans forward aggressively, face already red, while Rafe, who has been drinking since noon, slouches back in his chair with the smug confidence of a man who has absolutely nothing to lose.
NATE
You're such a joke, bro. You don't even deserve to be on this team.
RAFE
(laughs, taking a swig of his drink)
Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot you're the head coach now.
The other football players watch with a mix of amusement and discomfort, knowing that these two have thrown punches over less.
One of them, JORDAN, the peacemaker who always ends up in the middle of everything, leans in, trying to defuse the situation.
JORDAN
Come on, man, we're supposed to be here for "leadership training."
NATE
(mocking)
Yeah, okay, what exactly are we leading when we have a cokehead on our team?
Rafe grins, clearly unfazed.
RAFE
You're just mad because my stats are better than yours.
NATE
Oh yeah? How many scholarship offers did you get, Rafe? Huh? 'Cause I got four.
RAFE
(laughing)
That's cute. How many of those schools knew you were a psycho with daddy issues?
Nate lunges across the table, grabbing Rafe by the collar.
The table explodes into chaos. Players scramble to pull them apart, but Nate and Rafe are full-on wrestling on the table now, knocking over plates, drinks, and an entire breadbasket.
Another waiter, LUKE ABERCROMBIE, rushes forward, horrified.
LUKE
Sir, please! This is a formal dinner!
The COACH, a toxic masculinity macho man in his mid-40s, doesn't even look up from his drink.
COACH
Let 'em get it out of their system.
Meanwhile, across the room, Chanel Oberlin watches with disgust.
CHANEL
Can someone get these Neanderthals out of my sight?
Azealia Banks, without looking up, takes a sip of her drink.
AZEALIA
They should just kill each other already.
ALEX
(giggling under her breath)
Or fuck.
Kyle Scheible gets up to escape the loud football players. He's not even a football player. He just joined the team to go on this trip to get out of school. He finds a spot near HRH Collection.
HRH Collection eyes Kyle's book with disgust.
HRH COLLECTION
Oh my God. Are you seriously reading a book? That's so broke.
Kyle doesn't even look up.
KYLE
The real flex is having a rich dad and still choosing to be a Marxist.
HRH Collection chokes on her drink.
HRH COLLECTION
I cannot stand this communist bullshit. Did you know BLM is Marxism!
Suddenly, a booming voice crackles over the ballroom's speakers. This is basically the head of the ship. KATE CHASTAIN.
KATE (V.O.)
Gentlemen. If you continue to behave like animals, I will personally throw you overboard. And I mean that.
The entire room falls silent for a moment.
Nate and Rafe freeze mid-grapple, still locked in a wrestling match over a plate of filet mignon.
Nate glares at the ceiling, as if he can fight the disembodied voice of the captain himself.
Rafe, still smirking, leans back and adjusts his shirt like nothing happened.
RAFE
Fine. I was done with him anyway.
The football team slowly sits back down, adjusting their clothes like they weren't just brawling in the middle of a luxury dinner.
Across the room, TheWizardLiz shakes her head in disappointment.
THEWIZARDLIZ
Men are such clowns.
A beat.
LovelyPeaches throws her entire steak.
* * *
We move to the table of The Real Housewives.
Brandi Glanville leans forward, swirling her wine glass, eyes locked onto Lisa Rinna.
BRANDI
(smirking)
Let's talk about the husband.
Lisa Rinna looks up from her drink, her entire face shifting into pure rage.
LISA
(raging)
Don't bring up my husband.
Lisa Rinna SUDDENLY SLAMS HER WINE GLASS INTO THE TABLE, SHATTERING IT. Some housewives SCREAM. Lisa LUNGES AT BRANDI.
LISA
YOU DON'T BRING UP MY HUSBAND!!!
Nene Leakes puts her fork down, fully invested.
NENE
Oooooh, chile, here we go.
Kandi Burruss takes a sip of her drink, waiting for the explosion.
Tamra Judge smirks, enjoying the tension.
TAMRA
Brandi, you're about to get your ass beat.
Brandi shrugs, unfazed. Lisa grabs a butter knife off the table, waving it wildly.
NENE
OH, SHE DONE LOST HER MIND!!!
LISA
I'LL CUT A BITCH!!!
The waiters finally pry her away, dragging her back into her seat.
Sheree laughs wryly.
SHEREE
You guys are killing me.
Brandi takes a slow sip of her wine.
BRANDI
I'm just saying... if it wasn't true, you wouldn't be this mad.
Lisa tries to lunge AGAIN, but Kandi SLAMS her hand on the table.
KANDI
ENOUGH.
A pause.
The table goes silent. Even Lisa freezes.
Kandi leans in, her voice low, intense.
KANDI
We're on a boat. In public.
She glances around dramatically.
Lisa flips her hair, adjusting her posture.
LISA
Fine. I won't kill her. Tonight.
Brandi laughs, raising her glass.
BRANDI
Cheers, bitches.
They clink glasses as if Lisa hadn't just tried to commit assault with a butter knife.
* * *
Lottie sits at her own little table, watching everything unfold with eerie stillness.
LOTTIE
(low, unsettling)
It's happening again.
The lifeless waitress, hearing this, pauses.
LIFELESS WAITRESS
I'm sorry... what?
Lottie slowly looks up at her.
She smiles—calm, serene, but deeply unnerving.
LOTTIE
The ship. The people. The energy.
She traces the rim of her glass.
LOTTIE
(softly)
They don't realize it yet.
* * *
At the next table, Terri Joe sits ramrod straight, her Bible clutched so tightly her knuckles are turning white. She's glaring at everyone around her like they are agents of Satan.
Pearl, who has been silently smiling for the past fifteen minutes, sits across from her, rocking slightly in her chair, looking like she's either going to start crying or commit a murder.
Tanya McQuoid, drunk off God-knows-how-many glasses of wine, twirls her straw in her daiquiri and stares blankly at her plate. She is not fully present.
And finally, Chloe Ferry, who has already spilled her drink twice, is talking loudly over everyone and gesturing wildly, her acrylic nails threatening to take out someone's eye.
CHLOE
I shoulda kept my moof closed!
Terri Joe, who has been side-eyeing Pearl since the moment she sat down, clears her throat dramatically.
TERRI JOE
Now listen here, missy. I can just tell by lookin' at you that you have a demon in your spirit.
Pearl, still smiling, tilts her head like a malfunctioning animatronic.
PEARL
Why do you say that?
TERRI JOE
Because you're sittin' there all quiet... and you're givin' me the devil's eyes.
Pearl's smile widens unsettlingly.
PEARL
You think I have the devil in me?
She lets out a small, breathy giggle, then picks up a butter knife and begins scraping it back and forth on her plate slowly.
PEARL
Oh, that's funny... 'cause sometimes, I think I do too.
Terri Joe makes the sign of the cross so fast she almost sprains her wrist.
TERRI JOE
Lord, deliver us from the horrors of this demon child.
Pearl keeps scraping the knife across the plate.
SCRAAAAAPE. SCRAAAAPE.
Meanwhile, Tanya McQuoid is halfway through her fourth daiquiri and staring at nothing.
TANYA
(suddenly)
I just realized something.
Everyone turns to her.
TANYA
(squinting)
This ship... is too nice.
TERRI JOE
What in tarnation are you talkin' about, lady?
Tanya gestures dramatically with her straw.
TANYA
It's just... too fancy. It's got, like, that... overcompensation vibe. You know, like when a man with a small...you know... buys a big car?
Chloe Ferry, who has not been paying attention at all, suddenly slams her drink down.
CHLOE
OH MY GOD, YEAH! THIS BOAT IS A PROPER LIAR!
Everyone stares at her.
TERRI JOE
A... what?
CHLOE
A LIAR! Like, it's tryin' too hard! Somethin' is off! I SWEAR IT!
She pounds her fist on the table, knocking over an entire bottle of wine. The waiter watching from afar physically winces. Tanya leans in close to Chloe, nodding seriously.
TANYA
You get it.
They clink glasses.
Terri Joe shakes her head aggressively, gripping her Bible even tighter.
TERRI JOE
I don't know what kinda satanic nonsense I done walked into, but I'm tellin' y'all right now. If this boat sinks, it's 'cause God is cleansin' the filth off this here planet.
Pearl giggles.
PEARL
I hope it does.
Terri Joe gasps so hard she nearly passes out.
The annoyed waiter slowly approaches, trembling.
ANNOYED WAITER
Uh, ladies... any dessert?
Pearl tilts her head even further, unsettlingly calm.
PEARL
Do you have pie?
WAITER
Yes, we have apple, peach—
PEARL
I want the peach one.
LovelyPeaches, who is seated at a different table, suddenly whips her head around.
LOVELYPEACHES
What?
Pearl giggles again, twirling her fork between her fingers.
The waiter steps backward cautiously and leaves.
* * *
INT. SS GILDED WAVES – BRIDGE – CAPTAIN'S OFFICE
A well-appointed room adjacent to the Bridge, featuring navigation charts, a polished desk, and understated nautical décor. The soft hum of equipment underscores the ship's steady voyage.
A NERVOUS STEWARD stands in front of him, fidgeting with his cap.
NERVOUS STEWARD
Uh, Captain... we may have a situation.
We finally meet the CAPTAIN. He sits at the head of the bridge, reclined in his leather chair with the energy of a man who has seen far too much bullshit to be impressed by anything.
CAPTAIN
Bring it to Kate.
He runs to guest services frantically.
INT. SS GILDED WAVES – GUEST SERVICES - KATE'S OFFICE
KATE CHASTAIN, no-nonsense, immaculate, poised, and holding a clipboard like it's a weapon. A glass of something strong sits beside her on the control panel, because navigating this ship full of lunatics requires more than just nautical skill—it requires a high tolerance for nonsense. Because of her personality, the captain has given her a PA system to make any necessary announcements.
Kate raises an eyebrow but doesn't look up from her drink.
NERVOUS STEWARD
Uh, Kate... we may have a situation.
KATE
Oh my god these fucking influencers. Just one?
NERVOUS STEWARD
Well... we've already had two fights in the ballroom. Security had to pull Nate Jacobs off Rafe Cameron. Again.
Kate takes a slow sip of her drink.
KATE
(sarcastically)
Huh. Never would have seen that coming.
NERVOUS STEWARD
And there's... a woman throwing dinner rolls at people's heads.
KATE
(smirking)
Chanel Oberlin?
NERVOUS STEWARD
LovelyPeaches.
Kate lets out a long sigh, rubbing her temples.
KATE
I've served Leonardo DiCaprio. I didn't get into yachting to serve Snooki and her escort friends cheeseburgers.
NERVOUS STEWARD
And someone—uh, a Julia Fox—has been making cryptic comments about how this ship feels like "the Titanic reboot."
KATE
Okay, well, she's not wrong.
Kate finally leans forward, pressing a button on the intercom.
KATE
(over intercom)
Attention, passengers of the SS Gilded Waves. I would like to personally remind you that we are in the middle of the goddamn ocean. That means no fighting, no throwing things at people's heads, and no predicting maritime disasters out loud. If you die, we are legally required to fill out paperwork, and that is my personal nightmare. So please, for the love of expensive booze and my own sanity, act like functioning adults. That is all.
She clicks off the intercom and immediately downs the rest of her drink.
NERVOUS STEWARD
Do you want us to actually do anything about the situation?
Kate thinks for a moment, then waves a dismissive hand.
KATE
Eh. Let it simmer for a bit. We'll see who makes it through dinner. Once this cruise isn't filled with engagement bait and we're back to the normal rich people, things will be a lot fucking easier.
She kicks her feet back up on the console, completely unbothered.
* * *
INT. SS GILDED WAVES - STAFF KITCHEN
The annoyed waiter enters and throws his smock down.
ANNOYED WAITER
I'm fucking over this job.
The annoyed waiter storms to the break room. The lifeless waitress looks up at him and pops her bubblegum and then goes back onto her phone.
Luigi, on his break eating, sits next to LUKE ABERCROMBIE, a chronically crackheaded waiter, is mid-rant, speaking at 1.5x speed like a human podcast on fast-forward.
LUKE
What the fuck was that about?
Luigi barely looks up, still focused on his gun.
LUKE
ANYWAYS, one time I lived in a haunted Airbnb and I didn't realize until like three days in when all my socks started disappearing only from my left foot.
Luigi blinks slowly.
LUIGI
What the fuck are you talking about?
LUKE
Dude. I don't even know.
Luke takes an enormous gulp from a cracked Monster Energy can and starts vibrating slightly.
LUIGI
How many of those have you had today?
Luke counts on his fingers but gets distracted halfway through.
LUKE
Idk, like... some? But it's fine, I can totally handle it, my body is, like, 90% caffeine and bad decisions at this point. Like if I ever stopped drinking energy drinks I think my organs would just implode.
Luigi rubs his temples.
LUIGI
I should kill you instead.
LUKE
Okay, first of all, wow. Homophobic. Second of all, what's with the gun, huh? Huh?? WHO YOU KILLING, LUIGI??
LUIGI
You ask too many questions.
LUKE
Okay, but like, you can tell me. I'm a safe space.
LUIGI
You? A safe space?
LUKE
Yeah, babe. I'm basically a human therapy dog, except instead of helping people, I make their anxiety worse.
LIFELESS WAITRESS
My break is over.
She leaves.
Luigi sighs, rubbing his forehead like he has an actual migraine forming.
LUIGI
I'm taking care of some business. Maybe tonight. You didn't hear anything.
Luke leans in dramatically and gasps.
LUKE
Are you killing someone?
Luigi stares at him.
LUKE
Oh my god, you are. Babe, that's so hot of you.
Luigi leans back in his chair, slightly unnerved.
LUIGI
...You're weird.
LUKE
THANK YOU. I've been saying that!!
Luke suddenly grabs his phone, flips the camera on, and starts filming a chaotic vlog with zero warning.
LUKE
(to camera)
WHAT'S UP Y'ALL, I'M ON A CRUISE WITH MURDEROUS INTENTIONS, THE GAYS ARE THRIVING, THE ENERGY DRINKS ARE FLOWING, AND I THINK I'M ABOUT TO UNCOVER A CONSPIRACY THEORY. LET'S GET INTO IT.
Luigi grabs Luke's phone and tosses it across the room.
LUIGI
ARE YOU CRAZY?! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!
Luke grins like this is a compliment.
LUKE
Aw. That's so sweet. Okay but like hypothetically speaking, if you were like, say, I don't know, planning something highly illegal, would you like, I don't know, maybe need an assistant? Like not even in like a serial killer crime way, just in like a supportive bestie way??
Luigi doesn't look up, still polishing the blade.
LUIGI
No. I have one target. One. That's it.
Luke leans forward aggressively, jittery from what is clearly an unholy combination of caffeine, anxiety, and sheer chaotic energy.
LUKE
Okaaaaay but like let's circle back to that 'cause you didn't say never, you just said no. And no is temporary but never is forever, you feel me?
(beat)
So you are trying to kill someone!!
LUIGI
I didn't say that.
LUKE
You didn't not say it.
Luigi grits his teeth.
LUIGI
It's one person. And trust me, he deserves it.
Luke gasps like a housewife on a reality show.
LUKE
Oooooh, wait, is this like a Batman thing? Are you like, a vigilante assassin? Because that's, like, lowkey sexy.
Luigi stares at him, fully regretting every decision that led him to this conversation.
LUIGI
It's not sexy.
LUKE
I mean, like, respectfully, it kinda is.
Luke leans forward, still vibrating.
LUKE
So like... can I help?
Luigi looks up.
LUIGI
...You know what? Maybe.
Luke gasps dramatically.
LUKE
WAIT REALLY?? OH MY GOD, THIS IS JUST LIKE THE TIME I ACCIDENTALLY GOT INVOLVED IN A PYRAMID SCHEME BUT WITH, LIKE, MURDER.
Luigi groans, instantly regretting this.
LUKE
Like, honestly, slay.
LUIGI
...Don't say that.
LUKE
What? It's a compliment. So who are we slaying?
Cayetana casually enters, cutting him off.
CAYETANA
I've covered up a murder before.
A beat.
Luke suddenly freezes mid-vibration, eyes going wide.
LUKE
Wait. What?
Luigi slowly turns to face her.
Cayetana leans against the counter, completely unbothered, adjusting her uniform like she just dropped the weather forecast instead of a felony confession.
CAYETANA
I hid the murder weapon. Got away with it.
Luke gasps like a reality TV contestant who just heard the biggest tea of their life.
LUKE
OH MY GOD—SLAY.
LUIGI
(ignoring Luke)
...You covered up a murder?
CAYETANA
Not mine.
She flicks a piece of lint off her sleeve, her voice eerily calm.
CAYETANA
It was the man I loved. I went into the ocean and got it for him.
Luke places a shaky hand over his chest, dramatically gasping.
LUKE
Oh my god. That's literally so romantic. Like in Britney's music video.
Luigi glares at him.
LUIGI
It's literally not.
Cayetana ignores both of them, stepping closer, studying Luigi's gun and the knife he's been polishing.
CAYETANA
So. Who's the target?
Luigi narrows his eyes.
LUIGI
Why do you care?
Cayetana tilts her head slightly, like she's evaluating him.
CAYETANA
Because you clearly have no idea what you're doing. You need me if you wanna get away with it.
Luke chokes on his Monster Energy drink.
LUKE
Babe. Drag him.
LUIGI
I know exactly what I'm doing.
Cayetana raises an eyebrow, unimpressed.
CAYETANA
Oh, really? And when's the last time you covered up a crime scene and made sure it didn't lead back to you?
Luigi pauses.
LUKE
(leaning in)
Babe, she got you there.
LUIGI
STOP CALLING ME BABE.
LUKE
Okay but like bestie, listen—
Cayetana waves a hand dismissively, bringing the conversation back on track.
CAYETANA
Look. If you really want to pull this off, you need someone who knows how to clean up after.
She gives him a knowing look.
CAYETANA
Lucky for you, I do. You don't have to trust me. But if you want to succeed, you're going to need help.
LUKE
She's right. You wouldn't wanna get caught in like a McDonalds or something.
LUIGI
Fine.
Cayetana nods.
Luke fist pumps.
LUKE
OH MY GOD WE'RE DOING MURDER.
LUIGI
Stop saying that.
INT. SS GILDED WAVES – GRAND BALLROOM – THE SOIRÉE
The ballroom has been transformed into an opulent, over-the-top party straight out of a fever dream.
At the front of the room, Lady Raven stands on stage, cloaked in black velvet and sheer drama, bathed in dim blue lighting. She grips the microphone with deliberate intensity, her voice a deep, haunting wail that echoes through the hall.
Her song is a slow, eerie ballad, something that feels like it should be played during a sacrificial ritual under a blood moon.
LADY RAVEN
(singing, eyes closed)
"The tide is coming... the end is near..."
For a moment, everyone is entranced.
Even the richest, drunkest, most oblivious passengers pause, half-seduced, half-disturbed by her voice.
At a corner table, SMOKECHEDDATHAASSGETTA takes a long, slow drag from a blunt, exhaling smoke like he's conducting his own personal music video.
He watches Lady Raven sing, nodding sagely.
SMOKECHEDDATHAASSGETTA
Yo, this lowkey slaps.
The housewives strut into the ballroom like it's a Bravo reunion special. They are loud, fabulous, and already a little tipsy.
Lisa Rinna pauses dramatically, taking in the scene.
LISA
Oh my god. Is this a funeral or a party?
Brandi snorts, sipping her wine.
BRANDI
Maybe both.
Tamra points at Lady Raven.
TAMRA
Why is she singing like she's summoning Satan?
Nene Leakes crosses her arms, unimpressed.
NENE
Chile, if I wanted to be depressed, I'd look at my tax return.
Kandi Burruss sips her drink, watching the performance with deep suspicion.
KANDI
I don't trust this. She's singing like she knows something we don't.
* * *
At a table near the edge of the dance floor, Rafe Cameron, Charli XCX, and Azealia Banks are huddled together, whispering intensely.
RAFE
Yo, is this shit good or, like, good good?
Azealia Banks, already halfway through chopping up a line on a compact mirror, snorts loudly.
AZEALIA
Bitch, this is rich people cocaine. Of course it's good.
CHARLI XCX
(buzzing)
This feels like one of those nights where I make a bad decision that turns into a good song.
RAFE
Same, except replace "good song" with "criminal record."
AZEALIA
Oh, I like you white boy twink.
RAFE
What the fuck does that mean?
They all lean down and snort in unison like some cursed Wall Street ritual.
Rafe leans back in his chair, eyes wide.
RAFE
Holy fuck. I can see sound.
CHARLI
Vibe shift initiated.
Troye Sivan, lounging at the bar like a sensual cryptid, uncaps a bottle of poppers and takes a deep inhale. His pupils immediately dilate.
TROYE
Ohhhhhh my GOD.
Ross Lynch, sipping a whiskey neat, watches curiously.
ROSS
Dude. What even is that?
Troye turns to him with serene intensity.
TROYE
Babe. It's freedom.
Ross raises an eyebrow.
ROSS
Okay but like... is it legal?
Troye laughs and takes another hit.
TROYE
Literally? No. Spiritually? Yes.
Ross hesitates, but Troye leans in close, eyes glinting mischievously.
TROYE
It's legal in LA technically. C'mon. Try it. It'll make your brain feel like a neon sign.
Ross considers for a moment. He's already two drinks deep, and peer pressure is a hell of a drug. He grabs the bottle and takes a deep inhale.
A beat.
ROSS
Oh my god, I think my spine just left my body.
TROYE
Exactly.
They both dissolve into laughter, leaning against each other for support.
Meanwhile, across the room, Julia Fox watches them approvingly from a distance, sipping champagne.
JULIA
(lazily)
Wow. That's so editorial.
As Lady Raven holds a dramatic final note, suddenly—
BAM!
The microphone stand is yanked away.
The lights shift violently, and now, standing center stage in a glittering, ill-advised cocktail dress, is Trina Vega.
The band falters, confused. Lady Raven steps back slowly, eyes narrowing in silent, dignified rage.
Trina does not care.
TRINA
(singing, eyes wild)
"CHICAGO! CHICAGO! IT'S A CITY THAT'S EXCITING!"
Some of the audience collectively recoils, but some of the audience is vibing for real.
Terri Joe makes the sign of the cross.
Trina is giving it everything. Her arms flail dramatically. Her vocals defy all known musical laws.
Despite the chaotic energy radiating from the stage, London Tipton is in her own world. She flings hundred-dollar bills into the air at Trina like she's in a rap video, screaming joyfully.
LONDON
YAY ME!!!
The waitstaff quietly collect the money, knowing it's their only hope of fair compensation.
At the bar, HRH COLLECTION is having a full-blown meltdown. She shakes a glass of champagne in the annoyed waiter's face, her voice shrill, manic, and fueled by unchecked rage.
HRH COLLECTION
This tastes poor. What the fuck is this?!
The waiter, who has been dealing with unhinged rich people all night, does not blink.
ANNOYED WAITER
It's Dom Pérignon, ma'am.
HRH COLLECTION
NO IT'S NOT. It's fucking sparkling piss. I could make better champagne by squeezing a water bottle over a diamond.
The annoyed waiter leaves, knowing this woman is beyond reason.
Nearby, LovelyPeaches has taken offense to something the ship's pianist did.
No one is entirely sure what happened.
All they know is that one moment, the pianist was playing background jazz, and the next, Peaches was trying to physically fight him.
LOVELYPEACHES
BITCH, YOU THOUGHT YOU WAS BEETHOVEN?! FUCKING FRAUD!
She lunges toward the piano, knocking over the sheet music. The pianist ducks, terrified.
Meanwhile, Tanya McQuoid is still staring at a painting of the ocean, completely disconnected from reality. She furrows her brow.
TANYA
(to herself)
That wave... looks familiar.
She gasps softly, stepping closer.
TANYA
Oh my god.
A beat.
TANYA
Did I fuck a sailor in a past life?
* * *
At the bar, Matt Rife is mid-rant, slightly tipsy, talking way too loud.
He's fully convinced that he's being hilarious.
MATT
Okay, but like, why do we have to tip waiters? Like, why don't they tip us for putting up with their bad service?
Across from him, Quen Blackwell slowly blinks. She sets her drink down.
QUEN
Matt. Babe. You wanna die on this boat?
Matt chuckles, shaking his head.
MATT
See, that's what I like about you, you get my humor—
QUEN
I don't.
MATT
No, no, no, see—
QUEN
Matt, shut the fuck up before someone yeets you off the side of this ship.
Matt closes his mouth. He takes a sip of his drink, rethinking his life choices.
Alex Consani struts over to Quen with drinks. She is wearing an oversized silk scarf over her head, huge sunglasses, and a bodysuit.
ALEX
So why nobody else dressed like a slut tonight?
MATT
What about me?
ALEX
Well....
QUEN
Bitch, I love you.
Alex adjusts her scarf, unbothered.
ALEX
I love me too.
They both start twerking to "Chicago" by Trina Vega.
ALEX
THIS IS A BOP GIRL!
TRINA
(singing, thrashing dramatically)
"IT'S A CITY THAT'S EXCITING IT'S A CITY THAT'S INVITING IT'S A CITY FOR A WOMAN JUST LIKE MEEEEE!"
HRH COLLECTION
Oh my god, this is so off-pitch I think I just lost money.
Terri Joe mutters a prayer.
TERRI JOE
Lord, smite this woman before she curses the entire ship.
At the side of the stage, Pearl stands eerily still, hands clasped, her head slightly tilted, watching Trina like a cat watching a wounded bird. She blinks slowly. She smiles. Then, with the grace of a sociopathic ballerina, she steps onto the stage.
Trina doesn't notice. Pearl tilts her head even further—too far. Unsettlingly far. Then— BAM!
Pearl shoves Trina with both hands. Trina goes flying. A piercing, dramatic shriek rips through the ballroom as Trina topples off the stage, limbs flailing like a broken marionette.
TRINA
(mid-fall, still singing)
"CHICAGOOOOOOOO"
She crashes into a table, knocking over plates, glasses, and a tower of champagne flutes.
Silence.
Sheree looks around clapping.
SHEREE
Definitely I thought it was fun. I liked the beat. So...
Then—Pearl starts dancing.
She moves like she's in a silent film, fluid, haunting, her hands twisting in eerie, elegant shapes.
Her feet glide unnaturally across the stage like she's floating, her body jerking in strange yet mesmerizing ways.
Rafe Cameron, mid-cocaine hit, whispers to Charli XCX.
RAFE
I think I just saw God.
CHARLI XCX
That's just the drugs, babe.
ALEX
Nah. She's serving.
MATT
What is this, the audition round for America's Next Top Breakdown?
A beat.
The room goes silent.
Pearl freezes mid-spin. Her face contorts. Her eyes fill with instant, burning tears. Her lower lip quivers.
Then—
She bursts into full-blown, guttural sobs. She drops to her knees on stage, clutching her chest like she's just been stabbed through the heart.
PEARL
NO!!! NO, I'M A STAR!
HRH Collection rolls her eyes.
HRH COLLECTION
Oh my god, here we go.
PEARL
(screaming, clawing at the floor)
I'M A STAR! PLEASE! I'M A STAR!
She sobs hysterically, tears streaking her heavily powdered face, her voice hitting a pitch that makes a few guests visibly recoil.
Tanya McQuoid gasps, clasping her hands to her chest.
TANYA
Oh no... I think she's me.
Back in the chaos, Trina Vega, still collapsed on the floor from being pushed offstage, lifts her head, furious.
TRINA
Oh, so now she gets sympathy?! I FELL ON A TABLE.
But no one is listening.
Luigi and Denise rush onto the stage, like they're trying to approach a wounded animal that might attack.
DENISE
(shouting)
OH HELL NO.
Pearl whips her head toward Denise, her expression suddenly eerily calm, like a switch has flipped.
PEARL
(softly)
Do you believe in me?
DENISE
Girl, if it means you'll stop acting crazy then yes.
PEARL
What about you handsome?
LUIGI
Uhhh...
Pearl's face immediately contorts back into devastation.
PEARL
NOOOOOO! PLEASE, I'M A STAR!
She flails dramatically, making it insanely difficult for them to pick her up.
DENISE
Girl, if you claw me one more time!
The audience watches in a mix of horror and secondhand embarrassment as the guards drag her, kicking and screaming, off the stage.
LovelyPeaches takes this moment to throw a glass at the piano player.
Through the chaos of it all, Micah grabs a bottle of champagne from behind the bar.
KAI
(to Micah)
What are you doing?
Micah just smirks and sneaks off.
London Tipton, still tossing money into the air, briefly pauses.
LONDON
(cheerfully)
YAY PEARL!
Pearl clutches at the curtains, desperately grabbing onto them as she's hauled toward the exit. Her wails echo through the ballroom.
PEARL
(tears streaming)
I COULD HAVE BEEN GREAT!
LUIGI
(awkwardly)
Yeah, uh-huh.
PEARL
SHOULD'VE BEEN ME!
She disappears through the exit, her sobs still audible from the hallway.
A single bread roll rolls across the floor.
Then, without missing a beat—
LOVELYPEACHES
OKAY NOW THAT THAT'S OVER, YOU STILL GOT ME FUCKED UP!!!
She lunges at the pianist and decks him.
* * *
EXT. SS GILDED WAVES – THE DECK – NIGHT
Lottie Matthews sits at a window, quietly watching the madness unfold.
The deck is eerily quiet compared to the inside. The ocean is vast, endless, dark. The moonlight reflects off the waves, creating an unsettling glow.
Sitting alone on a lounge chair, completely detached from the ship's chaos, reading a battered copy of Infinite Jest is Kyle.
Lottie approaches slowly. Kyle doesn't look up. He turns a page, smirking to himself.
KYLE
(scoffing, to himself)
God, Foster Wallace was a genius.
Lottie looks at him interested.
LOTTIE
Why aren't you at the party?
KYLE
(smirking)
God, people are so brainwashed by modern distractions. I don't even have a phone anymore.
Lottie slowly turns her head to him.
LOTTIE
You're holding one right now. What would happen if you just put the book down?
Kyle shifts uncomfortably in his chair.
LOTTIE
It's just a book.
She looks out at the ocean.
LOTTIE
It's waking up. You feel it now, don't you? It's here with us now. I think you're the only other one here who could hear it Kyle. The others can't quiet their minds.
Lottie closes her eyes for a brief moment, as if listening.
Then—she simply turns and walks away, leaving Kyle sitting there, gripping the chair like it's the only thing anchoring him to reality.
The camera TRAVELS to the ocean where waves SWIRL like a portal.
The ocean ROARS.
* * *
INT. SS GILDED WAVES – GRAND BALLROOM – THE SOIRÉE
At a corner booth, Chloe Ferry turns her head and freezes. Her eyes widen. Her face twists into pure, unfiltered rage. She leaps to her feet, sending her chair skidding backward.Her jaw drops. And she ROARS.
Because across the room, she spots her GEORDIE BOYFRIEND making out with ANOTHER GIRL.
CHLOE
OH MY FOOKIN' GOD!
Everyone stops and turns.
Rafe, mid-cocaine hit, looks up.
RAFE
Yo, what?
Chloe marches toward the table like an unhinged general heading into battle.
The boyfriend, still wrapped around the other girl, suddenly looks up—
And sees his life flash before his eyes.
CHLOE
YA FOOKIN' CHEATIN' BASTARD!
GEORDIE BOYFRIEND
Chloe, babe, it's not what it looks like—
CHLOE
NOT WHAT IT FOOKIN' LOOKS LIKE?! YA TONGUE'S HALFWAY DOWN 'ER THROAT, YA SCRUFFY LITTLE SLAG!
The room collectively gasps.
HRH Collection leans forward, eating this drama like a Michelin-star meal.
HRH COLLECTION
Oh, this I like.
Chanel claps her hands together in delight.
CHANEL
Finally, something entertaining.
Chloe grabs a nearby glass of champagne and THROWS IT IN HER BOYFRIEND'S FACE.
He yelps, drenched.
GEORDIE BOYFRIEND
Chloe, babe—
CHLOE
DON'T BABE ME, YA FOOKIN' SNAKE!
And then—
With one swift motion, Chloe grabs the edge of a GLASS TABLE and FLIPS IT OVER COMPLETELY. Glasses shatter. Plates crash. Cutlery goes flying. People scream.
Chanel Oberlin gasps dramatically.
CHANEL
Oh my god, she's a barbarian.
HRH Collection grins.
Her boyfriend stumbles back, horrified. The other girl scrambles away. Chloe flips her hair and grabs another drink—THROWS THAT ONE TOO.
From opposite corners of the room, Luke, Luigi, and Chip Girl converge.
Luke skids to a stop in front of Chloe, completely out of breath from sprinting across the ballroom.
LUKE
Okay, okay, okay—EVERYBODY CHILL THE FUCK OUT.
CHLOE
I'M GONNA KILL 'IM!
Her boyfriend is cowering behind a chair.
LUKE
Okay, valid, but also, like, no?
Chloe grabs another drink.
LUKE
NO! BABE, LET'S NOT DO THAT.
CHLOE
WHY NOT?!
LUKE
BECAUSE. BECAUSE... UHHH... I WILL GIVE YOU FREE DRINKS FOR THE REST OF THE NIGHT.
Chloe pauses.
CHLOE
All of 'em?
LUKE
Every. Single. One.
A beat.
She squints, weighing the options.
She slowly lowers the drink.
CHLOE
Okay. But if he breathes in my direction, I'll rip 'is throat out.
LUKE
Awesome! Great talk! Love this journey for us!
Luke turns to the boyfriend, who is still hiding behind a chair.
LUKE
Bro, run.
The boyfriend scrambles out of the ballroom.
Luke turns back to Chloe, smiling nervously.
LUKE
Okay! Crisis averted! Nobody got murdered! That's a win in my book!
Chloe crosses her arms.
CHLOE
I still want my free drinks.
Luke nods aggressively.
LUKE
I will literally personally pour them myself.
Chloe tosses her hair dramatically and storms off toward the bar.
Luke lets out a long, exhausted breath.
* * *
EXT. SS GILDED WAVES – THE DECK – NIGHT
Cayetana walks out onto the deck and snatches up a half-empty Dom Pérignon bottle, examines the label, then pours the rest into her own glass like she's taste-testing it for a yacht-owning husband she does not have yet.
She notices Kyle Scheible is slouched in a deck chair, legs stretched out, reading a book like he's in an indie film no one asked for, but also looking kinda confused after what Lottie just said.
CAYETANA
Are you okay sir?
Kyle blinks up at her, eyes unfocused, like he's just now noticing his surroundings.
KYLE
(scoffing, deflecting)
Sir? Call me Kyle. And yeah, totally. Just... existentially vibing, y'know?
Cayetana tilts her head, studying him like a rich husband she's deciding whether to invest her time in.
CAYETANA
I don't know. You're sitting there like some tortured intellectual who just uncovered the meaning of life and hated it.
Kyle huffs a small laugh, flipping a page.
KYLE
Nah, I'm just reading.
CAYETANA
You sure you're just reading?
Kyle blinks, caught off guard.
KYLE
What else would I be doing?
Cayetana studies him, then shrugs, smirking.
CAYETANA
Escaping.
Kyle laughs, but it's a little too forced.
He leans back, stretching, brushing it off.
KYLE
I mean, who cares? It's a cruise. I'm here for the free food and to escape the shackles of a capitalistic technology obsessed society, not parties.
Cayetana raises an eyebrow, unimpressed, but also smirking.
CAYETANA
Liar.
Kyle raises a hand in mock surrender.
KYLE
You don't even know me.
Cayetana grins, finishing her champagne.
CAYETANA
I don't have to.
KYLE
Wait—why are you even out here?
Cayetana pauses, looking over her shoulder.
CAYETANA
Working.
Kyle narrows his eyes.
KYLE
You don't really seem like someone who works.
Cayetana grins.
CAYETANA
I don't. I just convince people I do.
* * *
INT. SHIP HALLWAY - NIGHT
From the hallway, Pearl's muffled screams still echo.
PEARL (O.S.)
I'M A STAR! LET ME BACK ON STAGE!
Luigi arrives at the scene, rubbing his temples, already over it.
Chip Girl, standing beside him, casually crunching on her chips, sighs.
CHIP GIRL
Okay, I can't believe I have to deal with this.
LUIGI
(under his breath)
I'm here for revenge.
A beat.
Chip Girl slowly turns to look at him.
CHIP GIRL
Okay, not unpacking that right now.
They round the corner and find Pearl clinging to a decorative pillar like a feral raccoon, sobbing.
A frazzled security guard is trying to pry her off, failing miserably.
PEARL
YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND! I WAS BORN FOR THIS!
Chip Girl shoves a handful of chips into her mouth and sighs.
CHIP GIRL
Pearl, sweetie. It's over. The Tony Awards aren't calling.
Pearl lets out a piercing wail.
PEARL
BUT THEY COULD!!!
Chip Girl rubs her forehead.
CHIP GIRL
I know sweetie.
Pearl lets go of the pillar just to dramatically collapse to the floor.
She grabs Luigi's sleeve.
PEARL
(whispering, devastated)
Do you think I was good?
Luigi stares at her blankly.
LUIGI
Yes.
At that exact moment, Trina Vega appears, crawling out of nowhere, still bruised and devastated from being shoved off stage.
She locks eyes with Pearl.
A long, dramatic beat.
Then—
TRINA
This... isn't over.
PEARL
Yes, it is.
TRINA
No, it's not.
PEARL
Yes. It is.
Chips Girl slowly turns to Luigi.
CHIP GIRL
I will literally pay you to throw them both overboard.
Luigi considers it. Instead, he separates the girls.
LUIGI
Alright that's enough ladies.
Pearl sniffles.
PEARL
Can I still be famous?
LUIGI
Not legally.
Chips Girl grabs Trina by the arm, dragging her away before she can start another Broadway-themed meltdown.
Trina screams dramatically.
TRINA
I WILL RISE AGAIN!
Pearl collapses into a chair, exhausted.
Chip Girl finishes her bag of chips and puts it on her head and does a peace sign.
CHIP GIRL
(sticking her tongue out)
I'm so crazy.
(sighing exasperatedly)
I need a new job.
Luigi turns, expression unreadable.
LUIGI
I need a murder weapon.
Chip Girl nods.
CHIP GIRL
Yeah, okay, same vibe.
They walk off.
* * *
Back at the center of the ballroom, a loud, chaotic argument is reaching critical mass.
On one side: Trisha Paytas, Julia Fox, and TheWizardLiz.
On the other: Andrew Tate.
ANDREW
The problem is, women don't understand that men are superior.
Julia Fox tilts her head, takes a slow sip of champagne, and stares at him like he's an exhibit in a zoo.
JULIA
That's, like, the most basic thing I've ever heard. You sound like a dude who just discovered Reddit yesterday.
Trisha Paytas, already fired up, throws her hands up.
TRISHA
Literally the dumbest person I have ever met.
Andrew Tate smirks like he thinks he's winning.
ANDREW
That's because you're a woman. You're emotional. I operate in logic.
TheWizardLiz leans forward, slowly, like a panther about to rip out his throat.
THEWIZARDLIZ
You have the IQ of a rotting orange.
ANDREW
You're proving my point. Women are too emotional to hold power.
JULIA
No, babe, I think you're just too much of a dumb misogynistic man to process reality.
TRISHA
Like literally, how do you even exist? Like, did God just give up halfway through?
THEWIZARDLIZ
You are a clown. Get out.
Out of nowhere, TERRI JOE wheels herself into the conversation, clutching her Bible like it's a weapon.
TERRI JOE
(excited)
Now, wait a minute! Hold on now! I agree with him!
The entire table pauses. Julia Fox slowly blinks.
JULIA
What?
Trisha Paytas' jaw drops.
TRISHA
WHAT?!
THEWIZARDLIZ
Oh my god. You're a pick-me for Jesus.
Terri Joe gasps dramatically, clutching her chest.
TERRI JOE
I ain't NO pick-me, y'all are just a bunch of HARLOT HUSSIES AND HOMOSEXUALS.
Andrew Tate nods approvingly, as if he has found his one ally.
ANDREW
Exactly. She gets it.
Terri Joe whirls around, suddenly furious.
TERRI JOE
WAIT, NO! I AIN'T SAYIN' I LIKE YOU! YOU'RE A LUSTFUL, BALD-HEADED DEMON!
Andrew raises an eyebrow.
ANDREW
Bald-headed demon?
TERRI JOE
YOU AIN'T GOT NO HAIR 'CAUSE GOD SMOTE IT OFF!
At a nearby table, Rafe Cameron and Nate Jacobs are at each other's throats again.
NATE
You're a cokehead loser.
RAFE
Okay, and? You're a psychopath in khakis.
NATE
You literally murder people.
RAFE
Oh, like you don't???
Nate leans forward aggressively.
NATE
You wanna take this outside?
Rafe grins, slamming his drink down.
RAFE
I'll take this off the ship.
NATE
I'm the quarterback!
Jordan runs up to diffuse the situation again.
JORDAN
Guys, can we not get kicked off a literal boat?
* * *
Charli xcx, Paris Hilton, and London Tipton are deep in their own world as "365" by Charli xcx plays over the speakers now.
They are absolutely thriving, dancing in their own bratty little bubble while the world around them burns.
LONDON
Who's the richest girl on this boat?!
CHARLI XCX
YOU, BITCH!!!
LONDON
YAY ME!!!
CHARLI XCX
That's brat!
PARIS
That's hot!
LONDON
I feel so powerful.
Paris nods. London does a little spin, nearly knocking over a waiter.
PARIS
Because you are.
Charli XCX, barely keeping her balance, gestures wildly at them.
CHARLI XCX
Okay, but, like... no one on this boat is, like, serving like we are.
Paris flips her hair again.
PARIS
No one ever is.
Paris pulls out her phone, snapping selfies.
PARIS
We should take a picture.
Charli grabs London dramatically.
CHARLI XCX
WAIT. I have a vision.
London gasps.
LONDON
A vision?!
Charli nods aggressively.
CHARLI XCX
We all put sunglasses on.
Paris gasps.
PARIS
That's hot.
London screams.
LONDON
YAY THAT'S BRAT.
The Brat Circle™ is flourishing, drenched in delusion, wealth, and alcohol.
HRH Collection, eyes WILD, hair flying, fueled by rage and possibly pure caffeine, CHARGES toward the Brat Circle. In one swift motion, she snatches London's sunglasses off. London lets out an ear-piercing scream.
Charli gasps.
Paris clutches her chest like she just witnessed a crime against humanity.
HRH Collection, holding the sunglasses in the air like a trophy, screams at the top of her lungs.
HRH COLLECTION
THAT'S NOT THE VIBE! STOP!
London Tipton, who has never known true suffering until this moment, stands there, wide-eyed, in pure horror.
She blinks rapidly, trying to process what just happened. Then, she starts hyperventilating.
LONDON
WHAT. DID. YOU. JUST. DO.
HRH Collection shoves the sunglasses in her face.
HRH COLLECTION
This is so not the vibe.
Charli XCX, still recovering, grabs Paris' arm.
CHARLI XCX
She's crazy.
Paris Hilton nods solemnly.
PARIS
That was violence.
London snatches the sunglasses back, clutching them to her chest like they're her firstborn child.
LONDON
DON'T EVER DO THAT AGAIN.
HRH Collection rolls her eyes aggressively.
HRH COLLECTION
You're embarrassing yourselves. Like, be serious. Be for real.
London flips her hair aggressively.
LONDON
You're just jealous because you're not brat.
HRH Collection lets out a feral screech.
HRH COLLECTION
STOP. SAYING. BRAT.
She turns, storming away, but not before grabbing a waiter's drink off a tray and throwing it at the floor in frustration.
The glass shatters. The room gasps. A pause.
Then, London puts her sunglasses back on. She flips her hair.
LONDON
Yay me.
Charli cheers. Paris clinks glasses with them. The Brat Circle™ is restored.
Luke walks past the broken glass.
LUKE
Oh my God why do rich people love breaking glass so much.
A BLOODCURDLING SCREAM RIPS THROUGH THE BALLROOM.
Pearl bursts through like a rejected Phanton of the Opera character.
Her hair is wild. Her makeup is smeared. Her dress is slightly torn from struggling against security. Her eyes lock on the stage.
Lady Raven is there, in all her mystical, dramatic glory, performing another hauntingly ethereal song.
The audience is entranced.
And Pearl sees red.
PEARL
(screaming)
NOOOOOOOOOO!
She sprints toward the stage. The crowd gasps.
Lady Raven, completely unbothered, keeps singing.
As Pearl climbs onto the stage, she SHRIEKS like a banshee and lunges at Lady Raven, hands outstretched.
PEARL
GET OFF! IT'S MY SHOW!
She tries to shove Lady Raven. But Lady Raven... doesn't move. Pearl shoves harder. Nothing. Lady Raven remains eerily still, eyes half-closed, voice unwavering. She is untouchable.
Pearl lets out a frustrated scream.
PEARL
WHY WON'T YOU FALL?!
Mary Zheng, the assistant manager and unshakable force of nature, has arrived. Mary yanks her back with the strength of a woman who has zero tolerance for this bullshit.
Pearl flails wildly.
PEARL
LET ME DANCE!
MARY
NO.
Mary drags her off the stage like she's escorting a drunk uncle out of a wedding.
Pearl kicks her feet dramatically.
PEARL
I'M A STAAAAAAAAAR!!!
MARY
(not even slightly amused)
Not tonight, babe.
Lady Raven continues singing, completely undisturbed.
Pearl is hauled off-stage, sobbing.
Mary Zheng looks up at the crowd.
MARY
(sarcastic)
Okay. Who's next?
* * *
INT. SS GILDED WAVES – SECRET ROOM BELOW DECK – NIGHT
The air is thick with bad decisions, questionable morals, and the unmistakable scent of wealth and entitlement.
A group of college students have gathered in a dimly lit, secretive lounge area below deck.
Seated in a loose circle, passing around bottles of expensive alcohol and engaging in illegal substances, are Chanel Oberlin, Trina Vega, London Tipton, Nate Jacobs, Rafe Cameron, SmokeCheddaThaAssGetta, and that random football player Jordan.
The vibe is reckless, chaotic, and dripping with rich-people privilege.
Chanel Oberlin, perched in the center like a dictator, swirls a martini dramatically before smirking at the group.
A beat.
CHANEL
We are going to play a game called Cocaine or Dildo.
A hushed silence falls over the room.
London Tipton gasps.
LONDON
Yay!
TRINA
(blurts)
I love dildos!
The room stares at her.
RAFE
What?
Trina flips her hair aggressively, recovering.
TRINA
I mean—I'm not playing.
CHANEL
Oh, you're playing.
Trina crosses her arms, pouting.
TRINA
Fine. But I better win.
Nate Jacobs leans back, exhaling slowly.
NATE
How the fuck do you even play this?
Chanel leans in dramatically.
CHANEL
It's simple. I give you a choice: Cocaine... or Dildo.
Trina scoffs, flipping her hair.
TRINA
Okay, but like—who chooses dildo?
Chanel smirks.
CHANEL
That depends on how much cocaine... or what I'm handing you as a dildo.
The group gasps.
SmokeCheddaThaAssGetta bursts out laughing, fully unhinged.
SMOKECHEDDATHAASSGETTA
Nah, this is actually evil.
Jordan gulps, suddenly regretting his choices in life.
JORDAN
Dude.
LONDON
(confused, still clapping)
Oh my god! I love games!
Chanel downs the rest of her drink.
CHANEL
Okay. Who's first?
* * *
ROUND ONE: NATE JACOBS
Nate, arms crossed, exuding toxic masculinity, glares at Chanel.
NATE
This is stupid.
Chanel smirks.
CHANEL
Oh, don't be scared, you untethered angry wildebeast.
Nate huffs.
NATE
Fine. Whatever. Let's go.
Chanel leans in, grinning.
CHANEL
Okay. Your choice: one gram of cocaine... or a vibrating toothbrush.
NATE
Are you fucking kidding me?
Rafe Cameron, already hyped from his last cocaine hit, is wheezing.
RAFE
Bro, pick the toothbrush.
NATE
NO.
CHANEL
So... cocaine?
A pause.
NATE
(through gritted teeth)
Yes.
CHANEL
(clapping her hands)
See? It's fun!
* * *
ROUND TWO: LONDON TIPTON
London flips her hair, smiling.
LONDON
Ooooh, me next!
Chanel raises an eyebrow.
CHANEL
Okay. Half a gram of cocaine... or a diamond-encrusted eggplant sculpture.
London gasps.
LONDON
Wait. That sounds cute.
Chanel grins.
CHANEL
Oh, it's huge.
London giggles.
LONDON
Yay! I pick the eggplant!
A beat.
Everyone stares at her.
Rafe snorts.
RAFE
What the fuck.
Chanel smirks.
CHANEL
We love a girl who knows what she wants.
London tries to take a bite out of it.
* * *
ROUND THREE: JORDAN
Jordan shifts uncomfortably.
JORDAN
Uh... I'm not sure about this.
Rafe slaps his back.
RAFE
Bro, c'mon. Don't be a bitch.
Chanel leans in.
CHANEL
Alright, random boring football man who's name I don't care to know. One tiny bump of cocaine... or a still-frozen hotdog.
Jordan visibly tenses.
JORDAN
A what?
SmokeCheddaThaAssGetta loses his mind laughing.
SMOKECHEDDATHAASSGETTA
Bro. That's a set-up.
JORDAN
This is so messed up.
Chanel tilts her head innocently.
CHANEL
So... what's it gonna be talking pumpkin?
A long, painful silence.
Jordan gulps.
JORDAN
The coke.
The group cheers.
Trina Vega claps, relieved.
TRINA
Thank god. I thought you were about to be weird.
* * *
ROUND FOUR: SMOKECHEDDATHAASSGETTA
Chanel grins deviously.
CHANEL
Okay, SoundCloud organutang. Your turn.
SmokeCheddaThaAssGetta leans back, exhaling smoke.
SMOKECHEDDATHAASSGETTA
Aight. Hit me.
Chanel pauses dramatically.
CHANEL
Your choice... A full eight ball of coke... or a vintage Tickle Me Elmo.
The room gasps.
SmokeChedda nods slowly, considering.
SMOKECHEDDATHAASSGETTA
Damn. That's actually deep.
TRINA
NO IT ISN'T.
London gasps.
LONDON
Wait! I used to have one of those!
RAFE
Dude, you have to pick the Elmo.
NATE
The fuck he does.
Chanel smirks.
CHANEL
So. What's it gonna be?
A tense pause.
SmokeChedda closes his eyes.
SMOKECHEDDATHAASSGETTA
I pick... Elmo.
The room erupts.
RAFE
BRO WHAT?!
JORDAN
ARE YOU SERIOUS?!
SmokeChedda opens his eyes, looking dead serious.
SMOKECHEDDATHAASSGETTA
Listen. I've had coke. I ain't never had Elmo.
A long, stunned silence.
London starts clapping.
LONDON
Yay!
Chanel picks up her martini, unfazed.
CHANEL
I love this game.
* * *
ROUND FIVE: TRINA VEGA AND RAFE CAMERON
Chanel Oberlin, perched like a chaotic god overseeing the night's degeneracy, takes a slow sip of her drink and smirks.
She sets her eyes on Trina Vega and Rafe Cameron.
CHANEL
Alright. Next round.
Trina Vega sits up straight, desperate to reclaim attention after her disastrous night.
Rafe Cameron, wired out of his mind, leans back, wiping his nose like he's starring in a failed Scorsese film.
Chanel grins, eyes twinkling with evil.
CHANEL
Trina and Rafe.
The room leans in.
Trina flips her hair, trying to look unfazed.
Chanel smirks, letting the tension build.
CHANEL
Your choices are: both of you take a line of cocaine...Or...
(leans in)
Trina's finger. Rafe's dick.
SMOKECHEDDATHAASSGETTA
(choking on his blunt)
NAH. THIS AIN'T REAL.
NATE
(leaning forward)
What the actual fuck is wrong with you?
Chanel leans back, sipping her drink, unbothered.
CHANEL
Oh, relax pissy spacek. It's just a game.
Trina turns bright red, looking completely horrified.
TRINA
WHAT THE HELL?!?!
Rafe, high and chaotic, is actually considering it.
RAFE
Okay, but like—what do you mean by that?
TRINA
ARE YOU SERIOUS?!
Rafe shrugs.
RAFE
I'm just asking questions.
Chanel raises an eyebrow.
CHANEL
I mean exactly what I said. She would finger you. Duh.
TRINA
NO. Absolutely NOT. I will LITERALLY do ANYTHING else.
Rafe snorts, rolling his eyes.
RAFE
Relax, it's not like I wanna do it either.
Trina glares at him.
TRINA
Wow. Rude.
Chanel sips her drink.
CHANEL
So what's it gonna be? Cocaine or Dildo?
Trina, horrified, disgusted, and scandalized, groans.
TRINA
COCAINE. I PICK COCAINE.
Rafe nods.
RAFE
Coke. Obviously. The devil I know.
CHANEL
See? You two would make such a cute couple.
Trina lets out a guttural scream.
London claps excitedly.
LONDON
Yay!
Rafe leans forward, grinning at Trina.
RAFE
Yo, what if I actually picked the other one?
Trina lunges at him.
TRINA
I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!
* * *
INT. SS GILDED WAVES – CORRIDOR NEAR MAIN BALLROOM – NIGHT
The corridor is quiet, dimly lit, luxurious, decorated with nautical-themed paintings and ornate fixtures.
Pearl, disheveled, mascara streaked down her cheeks, hair a wild mess, is walking slowly through the ship's corridor. Her face is still contorted in a mixture of heartbreak, rage, and humiliation. She's muttering softly to herself, reliving the trauma of tonight's events.
She turns a corner and immediately freezes.
Standing casually, chatting and laughing carelessly with a small group of friends just outside the ballroom entrance is Matt Rife—the very man who mocked and humiliated her earlier.
Pearl's eyes narrow instantly. Matt Rife, oblivious, continues laughing, sipping champagne, fully unaware of Pearl's menacing glare.
She turns around and keeps walking, and then spots something nearby—a large, ornamental brass maritime sculpture, shaped like a heavy anchor, mounted decoratively onto the corridor wall.
Her eyes widen, suddenly cold, calculating.She approaches it slowly, cautiously glancing left and right to ensure no one's watching. Then, with determination, she reaches up and carefully lifts it off the hooks. It's heavier than she thought, but manageable. She holds it in both hands, testing its weight, grip tightening.
She glances back at Matt again, now laughing louder, completely unconcerned. Pearl's breathing grows heavy, rapid, almost unhinged.
PEARL
(whispering)
Let's see who the real star is.
CUT TO BLACK.