Henry: Will you marry me?
Margaret: Nah. *goes to Milton*
Thornton: THIS IS THE NORTH! Revenues and outlay and pounds and shillings and (pounding on chest) profits and transactions and CAPTALISM! Arrrr!
Margaret: Hmm… I would be some kind of socialist if that had been invented yet, so… I don't like you!
Thornton: But I'm actually really nice-
Margaret: Go away! Stinkin' one percenter! Your cotton sucks!
Thornton: -if you'd give me a chance-
Margaret: *covering hands with ears* Not listening! La la la la la!
Thornton: But-
Marlborough Mills: *strikes*
Thornton: Hang on a second, Miss Hale. Screw you, millworkers. I'll bring in strikebreakers from Ireland!
Higgins: That does it! This is occupy Marlborough Mills!
An angry mob attacks the helpless Irish workers.
Margaret: Thornton, this is all your fault!
Thornton: Say what now?
Margaret: Do something!
Thornton: (goes out to mob) Go away!
Margaret: Oh, like that's gonna help!
Boucher: Let's throw rocks at him!
Margaret: Crap this is my fault! (Jumps in front of him.)
A rock hits her in the head and she falls over.
The mob: Oh shit. This is getting out of hand. Now what?
The police are heard in the distance.
Higgins: Do I smell dinner? Yes, I do! *Scrams*
The mob follows suit.
Thornton: Aw, Margaret, that was so sweet just now! Will you marry me!
Margaret: What is it with you people? No! Because I stopped you from getting hit with a rock? Anybody else would have done the same.
Thornton: Actually, most people would have loved to see me get beaned with a huge rock.
Margaret: You have a point there.
Thornton: So you will marry me?
Margaret: No! Go away! Leave me alone! I think I have a concussion!
Thornton: Well then I'm going to drown my sorrows in adrenaline-filled cutting-edge business transactions! Revenues and outlay and pounds and shillings and (pounding on chest) profits and transactions and CAPTALISM! Arrrr!
Margaret: Hey, that's actually kind of sexy. Would you consider-
Thornton: NO! … just kidding, yes.
Bessie: -Margaret, come home your mom's dying!
Margaret (to Thornton): Can this wait till tomorrow?
Thornton: No rush.
Margaret (running home): Mom, what can I do?
Mrs. Hale: There's only one possible course of action. I think we should drag my outlaw son back here from Spain even though it will mean his almost certain death.
Margaret: Seems legit. Oye, Frederick, mom's dying, get yer butt over here!
Frederick (appearing): Hola!
Mrs. Hale: Frederick? Frederick! Okay, I feel great now. *dies*
Frederick: Omg Mom! No!
Margaret: You gotta go. *Drags him to a train station* *Hugs him goodbye*
Thornton: Why are you embracing a good-looking young man in the middle of the night?
Margaret: He's totally not my outlaw brother actually I don't have a brother I never had a brother what are you talking about?
Thornton: Are you sure he's not, like, your brother or something? Perhaps a very young uncle?
Margaret: Yeah. I'm not even remotely related to him at all in any fashion whatsoever.
Thornton: Boo you whore! I'm done with you! *storms off*
In Oxford
Mr. Hale: I'm glad you thought of this trip to Oxford. Just what the doctor ordered. You know, I haven't felt this healthy in years-
Mr. Bell: -Don't say that!
Mr. Hale: *dies*
In Milton
Margaret: Aw, not Dad too! C'mon, that's just mean!
Enter Mr. Bell.
Mr. Bell: Hi, Margaret. Sorry about your dad, here's a s*** ton of money, hope it helps. I would propose to you except I'm going to- *dies*
Margaret (holding massive piles of cash): The frick am I supposed to do with this? I'm a woman! I don't understand business! (Runs to London.) Hey, Henry! You know, I thought we had a good thing going on. Could you help me with my money?
Henry: Aw! For sure! You should invest it. Maybe in-
Margaret: Nah.
Marlborough Mills: *strikes* *explodes* *implodes* *sets on fire* *collapses*
Margaret: I wanna invest it in Marlborough Mills!
Henry: Uh... okay. *Invests it*
Margaret: Great, thanks for helping me with my money. Oh, I still don't like you, by the way. Byee!
Back in Milton…
Fanny (staring at the desolate mill): Time for me to marry a rich old guy. Gotta jet. Thanks for the duds, brother dearest.
Mrs. Thornton: Finally! I've been waiting for this day for nineteen years. John, we finally got rid of her!- Why the long face?
Thornton: No factory. No girl. This sucks. Revenues and outlay and capitalism and- eh, screw it. What's the point?
Higgins: *Psst*
Thornton: Why the frick should I listen to you? Ya blew up my freaking factory.
Higgins: But that guy… The one Margaret was hugging… was her brother.
Thornton: What? *hugs Higgins* Bless you, you wonderful human being! Everything is coming up roses! Rainbows and butterflies and profit margins! I gotta go to London and find her!
They serendipitously meet halfway.
Margaret: Hey Thornton, some old dude conveniently appeared out of nowhere and gave me a crap ton of money; what do you say we team up and get your mill out of the-
Thornton: -Will you marry me?
Margaret: Do you know any other sentences? Seriously, let's sit down and discuss this like adults this time.
Thornton: Okay, I'll explain. You suggested giving me all your worldly property just now. This is basically the same thing, except this way we get to make out.
Margaret's eyebrows go up.
Margaret: Really? Well, no one can say I can't spot a good business deal when I see one. *Pumps his hand up and down*
She grabs him and they make out. There's lots of pretty music in the background, which makes us forget how awfully sudden this all is.
The end.