“I’m Not Cheap Whiskey Anymore”

EPISODE 1, SCENE 1:
If You’re Just Tuning In…

CASEY BRIGHT:
If you’re just tuning in, that’s okay — so did we.
Not long ago, a retired, long-haired karaoke addict wandered into our lives with a little black dog, a heart full of stories, and a look that said please don’t waste this.
We never planned to write a rock musical about redemption, karaoke, and cinnamon whiskey. 
But God has a sense of humor — and He knows how to pair the right fools together.

DR. KAT:
We’d been through our own reinventions — therapy degrees, spiritual detours, the whole midlife reboot package.
Then along came Lorenzo, walking his tiny pomchi through the snow, muttering to Jesus about surrender and second chances. 
That’s Lorenzo: Unfiltered grace with dog hair on it.
He’s part poet, part porch philosopher.
He didn’t want saving.
He wanted honesty. 

CASEY:
And somewhere in that mix of laughter, music, and faith, we became a family.
We started talking every day —sometimes therapy, sometimes theology, sometimes songwriting.
Three people, one old dog, and a mission: tell the truth without making it pretty.

KAT:
People call it art. We just call it survival with a melody.
The first record surprised everyone — including us.
It was messy, real, and full of what I call “earned imperfection.”

CASEY:
Now we’re back for another round.
If you came looking for clean edges or clear answers, you’re gonna be disappointed.
But if you came for something true — the ache, the humor, the sideways redemption — pull up a chair.
We’ve saved you a seat next to Morgan. 

[FADE IN — NIGHT]
[A frozen street. A porch light flickers. Morgan’s tiny breath curls in the cold.]

LORENZO CHAMPION:
I was walking Morgan — my 11-pound Pomchi — when it hit me that this wasn’t just another reinvention.
It was January 21st, one of those Michigan nights that bites straight through your jacket.
And I remember saying, “Okay, Jesus. I surrender.”
But surrender doesn’t look like the movies. 
There’s no soundtrack, no halo light — just you, your dog, and the silence. 
You stand there realizing you don’t have the energy to fake it anymore.

[He exhales, a cloud of breath and doubt.]

Next thing I knew, I was sitting across from these two — Casey with his rolling papers, Kat with her quiet stare— and we were talking about faith, failure, and karaoke like they were all the same thing.
Some nights, we laughed till we wheezed.

[He pauses, looking down at Morgan, who’s tugging the leash toward home.]

LORENZO (softly):
And somehow, from all that, came a song.
Then another. Then a whole damn album.
We called it I’m Not Cheap Whiskey Anymore.

CASEY (Voice-Over):
That’s where this story begins — right here, between the frost and the faith.
Not with fame. Not with a plan.
Just one man, one dog, and the sound of something new being born.

KAT (V.O.):
Welcome to Cheap Whiskey…. Let’s all have a few shots together.

[FADE TO BLACK.
TITLE CARD: “I’M NOT CHEAP WHISKEY ANYMORE”]

SCENE 3:
What if You Wrote a TV Pilot, too?

**FLASHBACK: Two weeks earlier**
[Setting: Outside Lorenzo’s home.]

NARRATOR (fast-talking like an old-school promo guy):
So here’s what happened….
The deBos Enterprizes label didn’t just want another album.
They wanted the whole enchilada—Album. Rock Musical. Maybe even a TV pilot.
And a website that doesn’t crash when Grandma clicks on it.

Enter: the freelancers --
A motley crew of writers, comedians, lyricists, burnout philosophers, 
And one guy who still uses a Blackberry.

Are they qualified? Barely. 
Are they paid? .…Technically.

Lorenzo and Casey thought they were signing up for a writer’s retreat.
What they got was a Writer’s Room.

LORENZO (voiceover, walking Morgan, occasionally dancing down the sidewalks):
I thought we were supposed to just write songs. 
That’s what I signed on for: A second album. 
A few more months huddled with Casey and Kat. 
Maybe one more crack at losing myself in the music.

But the label kept adding shit:
“Hey, make this a Rock Musical”
“Hey, what if you wrote a pilot?”
“Hey, we love this Dr. Kat character.”
“Hey, could have the dog talk?”

Casey thinks it’s funny. Kat pretends like she’s seen it all before.

And me? I’m just trying to figure out how I ended up co-writing a sitcom about the collapse of my spiritual ego.

[FADE TO BLACK]
 

SCENE 4:
How Sonny Stole a Chair… and Lorenzo’s Laughter

[Setting: A long folding table cluttered with notebooks, coffee cups, and half-finished lyric drafts. Lorenzo and Casey are talking quietly. Kat is typing. Elliott Gribble, a recent freelance hire, is jotting notes in a spiral-bound news reporter’s pad.]

SONNY (scanning the crew):
Room smells like a support group for underachievers.

[Kat snorts into her coffee. Lorenzo tries to look stern, but a grin leaks out anyway.]

NARRATOR:
Nobody knew yet that was Sonny’s real power: He made Lorenzo laugh—big, unguarded laughs. The kind that made everybody else feel like they were just…background music.

[Sonny is standing by the whiteboard, flipping through old drafts. He starts reading them aloud, doing voices.]

SONNY (mocking tone):
‘We humbly submit this track listing…”

Jesus Christ. You wanna sell albums or apologize for them?

[Lorenzo doubles over, wheezing. Elliott looks down at his notebook, cheeks red.]

ELLIOTT GRIBBLE (trying to recover):
I mean…he is funny, but…I’m not sure that’s helpful.

KAT (gently):
Humor is helpful.

CASEY (calm):
Especially around here.

[DISSOLVE TO – 1 WEEK LATER]

[Setting: Mid-session. Everyone is working. Elliott gets up to use the bathroom. He sets his pen carefully on the table.]

NARRATOR:
It wasn’t malicious. It wasn’t planned. It was just Sonny being Sonny.

[Elliott returns a minute later. Sonny is seated in Elliott’s long-established, comfortable chair. Sonny has his arms folded behind his head, completely settled.]

ELLIOTT (hesitant):
Hey…umm…that’s actually my spot.

SONNY (doesn’t move):
Not anymore.

[Silence. Lorenzo tries—again—to look impartial. He fails. He bursts out laughing.]

LORENZO:
God, Sonny—you are such an asshole…Give him his spot back. Jeesh.

SONNY (shrugs):
Yeah, but you’re smiling.

NARRATOR:
And that was it. Elliott knew he’d lost. Not because Sonny Shears was smarter. Not because he was better. Because he made Lorenzo feel alive.

And Elliott wasn’t alone in recognizing Lorenzo was using a lot of Sonny’s lines in their writing forums lately.

[Elliott sets his notebook back on the table, but doesn’t sit down. Kat catches his eye—gives him a small, sad nod.]

KAT (soft):
Don’t let it get to you.

ELLIOTT (voice small):
I won’t.

NARRATOR:
He did. And a couple days later, Elliott Gribble had left the project, without word.

Sonny Shears barely noticed the other chair was now empty.

[FADE OUT]

***FLASHBACK***
[Setting: The war-room table is clear for once. No coffee rings. No scribbled scraps. Just one pristine sheet: the ‘Cheap Whiskey’ contract, still warm from the printer. A single desk lamp illuminates it like evidence.]

LORENZO (stops, taps the contract):
So it’s official.
The journal became a contract. 
No more ‘someday.’ 
I owe ‘em fourteen tracks and a heartbeat.

CASEY:
A concept album.
Your life. Unfiltered.

LORENZO (half-laugh):
Yeah, an old friend texted yesterday: ‘Why all this sudden Myra talk?’
I said, ‘I told ya I just met the best shrink on planet Earth — and you think I’m not gonna excavate Myra?’

CASEY (without looking up):
You say ‘sudden.’ But it’s all been leading here.

LORENZO (nods):
And if I’m gonna write my Surrender — if I’m gonna say that word and mean it — I gotta start where I stopped pretending. 

Alrighty then. Let me tell you about a little drink called Hot Damn & Cheap Whiskey….

(grins, exhales):
Strap in.

[Lorenzo sets the vape down, steps to center stage. A soft amber spotlight catches him. Casey’s coffee mug freezes halfway to his lips; Kat folds her laptop shut, listening.]

SCENE 8:
MUSICAL NUMBER: “Hot Damn & Cheap Whiskey”

[Lorenzo takes center mic. Kat and Casey remain upstage in half-light, becoming silhouetted bar patrons. At chorus, they chair-dance from their desks and join harmonies — the line between story and song dissolving.]

[Final cymbal crash. Blackout.]

[A single desk lamp still glows on the signed contract.]

[END OF EPISODE 1]

SCENE 5:
They’re Gonna Roast the Shit Outta You Introverts

[Setting: The studio is a wreck—takeout boxes, scribbled lyric scraps, blinking vape carts. Lorenzo, Casey, and Kat are still up, eyes glassy.]

LORENZO (rubbing his eyes):
…seriously though—these freelance guys -- Sonny, Lundy, Elliott, and those other two dudes that didn’t last two days -- are they kinda weird? Or is it just me?

CASEY (smiling tired):
No, it’s not just you, man. Sonny kinda reminds me of Mr. Wonderful, that dude on Shark Tank…

No, wait….Don Rickles!

LORENZO (snaps his fingers):
Don Rickles!! Yes!!

KAT (wiping her eyes):
…and this Phil Lundy character—good writer. But odd motherfucker, right?

[Kat wipes her face, and her voice drops to the perfect deadpan.]

KAT:
I’m truly sorry, boys, but these two bastards are gonna roast the shit outta you poor introverts.

NARRATOR:
And in that moment, as they were enjoying another punch-drunk moment of joyous laughter together, they finally admitted it:

They might not survive this freelance lineup, but it was never going to be boring.

[FADE OUT]

Scene 6:
Every Circus Needs a Ringmaster

[Setting: The usual clutter: lyric sheets, a half-eaten pizza, a Family Feud rerun on mute. Lorenzo sits at the head of the table, looking tired but resolute. Kat has her notes. Casey is rolling a roach between his fingers. Rickles is rummaging in the fridge.]

LORENZO:
You know…I used to think everyone else in my orbit was wackadoo.
Except you two.
(gestures at Casey and Kat)
You’re the only ones I trust to tell me if I’m really losing it.

[Rickles lifts a beer in salute without turning around.]

KAT (raises an eyebrow):
Define ‘losing it.’

LORENZO (exhales):
People are starting to say I’m crazy for spilling my guts to a national audience like this.

[He rubs his face.  Rickles emerges with a beer.]

RICKLES:
That’s actually a worldwide audience, Champ.

LORENZO:
Hell…even my own son is questioning it. Asking if I’m okay.

[He looks down, voice softening.]

CASEY:
Or maybe this is the sanest thing you’ve ever done.

[Kat nods, gently.]

KAT:
Lorenzo, people who’ve never told their truth don’t get to call you ‘crazy’ for telling yours.

[Long silence. Lorenzo lets it sink in.]

RICKLES (flat):
I think you’re all nuts.

[He pops the cap, takes a swig.]

But you all write better lyrics when you’re nuts.
So…carry on.

[Kat almost laughs. Lorenzo can’t help it — he does.]

NARRATOR:
If you’re wondering whether Lorenzo believed them…he did.
But he never fully stopped wondering if everyone else was right, too.

This was also the moment when Lorenzo became the introvert who stepped up to lead the Writers Room meetings.
Not because he stopped loving the loose vibe.
But because he finally recognizes: 
Even a circus needs a ringmaster sometimes.

[FADE OUT] 

SCENE 7:
Hot Damn & Cheap Whiskey Makes a Great ‘Fireball’

Phil Lundy