- 2014/07/28 : 「デス妻」の超正確なスクリプトを作りました
0:16～ (Chapter 1)
My name is Mary Alice Young. When you read this morning's paper, you may come across an article about the unusual day I had last week. Normally, there's never anything newsworthy about my life. That all changed last Thursday. Of course, everything seemed quite normal at first.
I made breakfast for my family.
I performed my chores.
I completed my projects.
I ran my errands.
In truth, I spent the day as I spent every other day, quietly polishing the routine of my life until it gleamed with perfection.
That's why it was so astonishing when I decided to go to my hallway closet and retrieve a revolver that had never been used.
My body was discovered by my neighbor, Mrs. Martha Huber, who’d been startled by a strange popping sound. Her curiosity aroused, Mrs. Huber tried to think of a reason for dropping in on me unannounced. After some initial hesitation, she decided to return the blender she had borrowed from me 6 months before.
It's my neighbor. I think she's been shot. There's blood everywhere. Yes, you've got to send an ambulance. You've got to send one right now.
And for a moment, Mrs. Huber stood motionless in her kitchen, grief-stricken by this senseless tragedy. But only for a moment.
If there was one thing Mrs. Huber was known for, it was her ability to look on the bright side.
2:38～ (Chapter 2)
I was laid to rest on a Monday. After the funeral, all the residents of Wisteria Lane came to pay their respects. And as people do in these situations, they brought food.
Lynette Scavo brought fried chicken. Lynette had a great family recipe for fried chicken.
Of course, she didn’t cook much while she was moving up the corporate ladder(s). She didn’t have the time.
But when her doctor announced Lynette was pregnant, her husband Tom had an idea.
“Why not quit your job? Kids do better with stay-at-home mums. It would be so much less stressful.”
But this was not the case.
In fact, Lynette’s life had become so hectic she was now forced to get her fried chicken from a fast-food restaurant. Lynette would’ve appreciated the irony if she’d stopped to think about it, but she couldn’t. She didn’t have the time.
Stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it.
No, you are going to behave today. I am not gonna to be humiliated in front of the entire neighborhood. And, just so you know how serious I am...
Santa’s cellphone number.
How’d you get that?
I know someone who knows someone who knows an elf. And if any of you acts up, so help me, I will call Santa and I will tell him you want socks for Christmas. You willing to risk that?
Okay. Let’s get this over with.
Gabrielle Solis, who lives down the block, brought a spicy paella.
Since her modeling days in New York, Gabrielle had developed a taste for rich food and rich men. Carlos, who worked in mergers and acquisitions, proposed on their third date. Gabrielle was touched when tears welled up in his eyes.
But she soon discovered this happened every time Carlos closed a big deal.
Gabrielle liked her paella piping hot. However, her relationship with her husband was considerably cooler.
If you talk to Al Mason at this thing, I want you to casually mention
how much I paid for your necklace.
Why don’t I just pin the receipt to my chest?
He let me know how much he paid for his wife’s new convertible.
Look, just work it into the conversation.
There’s no way I can just work that in, Carlos.
Why not? At the Donohue party, everyone was talking mutual funds. And you found a way to mention you slept with half the Yankee outfield.
I’m telling you, it came up in the context of the conversation.
Hey, people are starting to stare. Can you keep your voice down, please?
Absolutely. We wouldn’t want them to think we’re not happy.
Bree Van De Kamp, who lives next door, brought baskets of muffins she baked from scratch.
Bree was known for her cooking,
and for making her own clothes,
and for doing her own gardening,
and for reupholstering her own furniture.
Yes, Bree’s many talents were known throughout the neighborhood. And everyone on Wisteria Lane thought of Bree as the perfect wife and mother. Everyone, that is, except her own family.
Hello, Mrs. Van De Kamp.
Bree, you shouldn’t have gone to all this trouble.
It was no trouble at all. Now, the basket with the red ribbon is filled with desserts for your guests. But the one with the blue ribbon is just for you and Zachary. It’s got rolls, muffins, breakfast type things.
(Well,) the least I could do is make sure you boys had a decent meal to look forward to in the morning. I know you’re out of your minds with grief.
Yes, we are.
Of course, I will need the baskets back once you’re done.
Susan Meyer, who lives across the street, brought macaroni and cheese. Her husband Carl always teased her about her macaroni, saying it was the only thing she knew how to cook and she rarely made it well.
It was too salty the night she and Carl moved into their house.
It was too watery the night she found lipstick on Carl’s shirt.
She burned it the night Carl told her he was leaving her for his secretary.
A year had passed since the divorce. Susan had started to think how nice it would be to have a man in her life, even one who would make fun of her cooking.
Mom, why would someone kill themselves?
Well, sometimes people are so unhappy they think that’s the only way
they can solve their problems.
But Mrs. Young always seemed happy.
Yeah, sometimes people pretend to be one way on the outside when they’re totally different on the inside.
Oh, you mean like how Dad’s girlfriend is always smiling and says nice things but deep down you just know she’s a bitch.
I don’t like that word, Julie. But yeah, that’s a great example.