Brad is plunked down on the couch, exhausted from an entire day spent taking care of the kids. Angelina walks into the room, holding official papers.

Angelina: Hi baby.

Brad opens his eyes and observes her as she walks to the desk to file the papers.

Brad: Where’ve you been??!!

Angelina: You know where I’ve been - down at the agency doing all the paperwork for the next kid.

Brad groans.

Brad: Oh no baby, please no, not another one right away, we just got this one…can’t we get him a little time to adjust before we throw another one into the pot?

Angelina slams shut the drawer and walks over to couch, towering over Brad.

Angelina: I told you, I want each child to have a respective playmate of the same race.

Brad: Yeah but what’s wrong with the kids playing across racial lines??

Angelina: Nothing, but I just want a pair of each race? Is that so wrong?

Brad: This is not like shopping at Saks where you’re getting matching shoes and purse, ok?

Angelina puts her hands on her hips.

Angelina: Is that what you think this is about???…getting matched sets like matching salt and pepper shakers??

Brad: Uh….no…?

Angelina: This is about them finding racial identity and confirmation within their own family. Haven’t you absorbed anything Dr. Weinstein told us??

Brad: Mmmmm…yeah…I guess…Dr. Quack knows best… But honey, we have four babies already…and I am already exhausted from them….so tired…

Angelina: Look, you knew from the get-go that I wanted a lot of kids. I told you right from the start. And you said you wanted a lot of them too and were more than ready.

Brad: But all at once?? Can’t we wait until at least one of them goes to college before getting another one?

Angelina: I’m not getting younger, and neither are you. I want all my kids now before my tits starts dragging on the floor…Now if you are not committed to this 100% or you’re having second thoughts, just let us know now, and we can all leave you to your freedom…

Brad: All right, all right, all right, all right, all right….just stop yelling at me.

She walks back to the desk, on the other side of the room, and begins to fidget with the papers. Brad sighs, giving up.

Angelina (muttering): ….cause we all know about your committment issues and change-of-heart incidents…

Brad: What’s that??

Angelina: Nothing.

Brad: I heard somethin’.

Pause. Awkward silence.

Angelina: I was offered a starring role in an Edward Zwick project for the fall.

Brad: What??!! No, you can’t…cause I was just offered the lead in a Soderbergh political thriller.

Angelina: When? You didn’t tell me.

Brad: Last week.

Angelina: But you didn’t tell me!

Brad: I didn’t have time..and with you traveling all over world..and the kids…the diapers…the feeding…

Angelina: Look, it doesn’t matter. It’s my turn to work. You just wrapped a film!

Brad: But baby, this picture is going to win me the Oscar!

Angelina: Oscar??!!! OSCAR???!!!! You think that’s more important than taking care of your kids???

Brad: No..but…hey, you already won one…can’t you just cut me a brake? This is the role of a lifetime!

Angelina: Brad, we already agreed we’d take turns doing movies and taking care of the kids. You just wrapped a shoot…so it’s now YOUR TURN TO STAY HOME WITH THE KIDS. END OF DISCUSSION!

She storms off to the bathroom

Brad (muttering to himself): Damn….things were much easier with Jen. What the hell did I get myself into?

Angelina (from the bathroom): What’s that??

Brad: Nothing.

Angelina: I heard somethin’!

Brad collapses back on the couch, holds a pillow over his face, and groans.