Disclaimers: Same as beginning and any baseball stuff is the property of Major League Baseball.

Spoilers: slight mentions to "I've Grown Accustomed to His Face," "Pulp Turkey," "On the Town," "Everybody Who's Anybody" but not in a really significant way.

THE WORLD IS DIFFERENT NOW
~~~~~~~~~

ACT II

INT. EARLY MORNING. HEATHER'S BEDROOM. *Heather, asleep on her bed, shifts toward the direction of the window. The light wakes her, and her eyes flutter open. From her position on her bed, she looks out the window at the trees, blue sky, and clouds. She pushes the covers off her and stands in front of the window. She seems somewhat puzzled but content. Her attention turns to the door and she walks away.*

CUT TO:
INT. BEDROOM FROM ACT I. *Michael is seen still lying on top of the bed. His bruises from the fight and energy burst have quickly healed and have left only the faintest of marks. He is in the townhouse, but something is different. The sun shines brightly through the window, sending shafts of light across the floor. A doorbell is heard. Michael comes to at the sound. He stares at the ceiling which is familiar to him.*


MICHAEL
Doc? [he waits for a response] Doc, that strange buzzing sound most people call a doorbell is going off. Should I be worried? Doc?

*He turns on his side and looks at the clock. It reads 8:17. He bolts up in bed at the time and the sight of sun pouring into the room. His mind instantly goes to the events of "I've Grown Accustomed to His Face." The doorbell continues to ring.*

Doc?

*Not looking around, he heads out of the bedroom and down the steps to the front door. He stares at the door, not wanting to break it down, remembering the incessant sirens he knows will go off. The control panel for the alarm system next to the door is noticeably smaller and ADT-like.*

Um...hello? Who's there?


DR. MORRIS (O.S.)
Well, it's about time.


MICHAEL (relieved)
Doc? Is that you?


DR. MORRIS (O.S.)
Who else would be standing out here at eight in the morning?


MICHAEL (a bit confused)
Did you forget your key or something? Or does the government need to invest in one of those hollow plastic rocks that you hide your key in and then leave in the garden?


DR. MORRIS (O.S.)
What are you talking about? Why would I have a key? Let me in already.


MICHAEL (even more confused)
Um, I can't exactly open...the door, I mean...


DR. MORRIS (O.S.)
Why can't you? Don't tell me you forgot the access code again.


MICHAEL
Forgot - um, not exactly.


DR. MORRIS (O.S.)
After pulling me out of that meeting last time, it's a damn good thing I made you give me a copy of the code so we wouldn't have a repeat of that incident.


MICHAEL (completely lost)
Right, Doc. Whatever you say.

*A slip of paper with numbers slides under the door. Michael picks it up, punches it into the side panel, and opens the door. He is met by a smiling Dr. Morris, dressed very casually compared to his use style, holding a rolled-up newspaper in his left hand.*


DR. MORRIS (singing with his arms spread apart)
Good morning, good morning. It's great to stay up late. Good morning, good morning to you.

*Michael stares at him blankly.*

Weren't you wearing that yesterday? [he gestures to Michael's clothes as he walks inside] I realized the memo said casual dress, but it's still an office.

Dr. Morris heads up the stairs, leaving Michael at the open door.


MICHAEL
What?

*He closes the door after a moment and follows the doc. He could not be anymore confused.*

INT. BEDROOM. *The room is comfortable, lived in. There is a TV set near the door, a bookcase teeming with books along the window, clothes heaped in piles around the room. Through the partially open blinds that lead to the terrarium, we see that the gym equipment towards the back is missing. The Doc enters, raising an eyebrow at the mess. Michael follows, incredibly bewildered.*


MICHAEL
Doc, is it just me or is something very strange...going...on [he stops shorts as he sees the change in surroundings, the TV set in particular] Did I miss something? Where was I when this change in procedure took place? Not that I'm complaining, mind you. [eyeing the TV with a smile on his face] Basic or premium?


DR. MORRIS
Are you feeling okay, Michael?

*Michael turns toward Dr. Morris, alarmed.*


MICHAEL
What did you just call me?


DR. MORRIS
Your name. Now are you even close to being ready for work? [as he looks down at his watch, the absence of his copper bracelet is observed] We're supposed to be in the office in a half an hour.


MICHAEL (worried)
You have never - ever - called me by my first name before.


DR. MORRIS
I have been calling you Michael since the first day you came to work for me.


MICHAEL
Work for you? [he can't take this all in] What are you talking about? Where do we work?


DR. MORRIS
Did you hit your head? Did you fall down and hurt yourself?


MICHAEL (impatient to know the answer)
Where do we work, Doc?


DR. MORRIS (humoring him)
At the IRS building downtown. [losing his patience] Now are you going to get changed so that we're both not late for work.


MICHAEL (under his breath)
IRS? [to Dr. Morris] We work for the IRS?


DR. MORRIS
Not if we don't get there on time.


MICHAEL
Is this some new kind of survival training test, to try and get me to think on my toes? Because I'm thinking. [off the doctor's increasingly impatient looks] This is - I - I am still Michael Wiseman, right?


DR. MORRIS
What are you talking about? [more to himself] Can't even remember his own damn name!

*Michael collapses onto the bed. He buries his face in his hands. Suddenly he feels what is left of his bruises, remembering the previous night's events.*


MICHAEL (softly and slowly)
Miles.


DR. MORRIS
Have you gone insane? Your name is not Miles.

*Michael stares up at him with a "I know at least that much" look.*

Okay, I'll assume you have a concussion or a hangover or some other form of brain damage that prevents you from thinking clearly. If we want to get any work done today before our little office excursion, you need to put on clean clothes. Now, Mr. Newman!


MICHAEL
Newman?


CUT TO:
INT. THE DOCTOR'S JAGUAR. *The doc is driving, and Michael sits, still bewildered, in the passenger seat, the newspaper open on his lap. He is dressed casually as well. He continually looks out the window, searching for any obvious changes in the world around him.*


MICHAEL (moving around in his seat)
I haven't been in this car in a while.


DR. MORRIS
You have ridden in this car every morning for the past year. [shakes his head and says slowly] I need some coffee.


MICHAEL
Yeah. Sure thing, Doc.


EXT. STREET. *As the car passes by, Michael's attention is quickly drawn to a figure walking on the sidewalk. But before he can make out who it is, the car speeds away. The figure is Miles, staring up at the buildings, completely overjoyed.*


CUT TO:
INT. OFFICE. *The space is filled with cubicles, computers, and other office equipment. Michael and Dr. Morris enter, Michael hesitantly looking around him. He trails behind as the doctor pours himself a cup of coffee. Michael stares down at the plate full of Danishes. Dr. Morris heads over to a cubicle larger than the others. Michael follows, though not before stuffing his face with a raspberry Danish, and notices a nameplate on the ledge of the cubicle - Michael Newman.*


MICHAEL (still unsure)
So this is where I work?

*The doctor is about to say something, but stops as Michael picks up a framed photograph that sits on the desk. It is of a happy little girl, about six years old, dark hair, blowing bubbles. Michael gazes at the picture so lovingly.*


DR. MORRIS
Is she staying with her mother for the holiday weekend?


MICHAEL (unable to take his eyes away from the photo)
What?

DR. MORRIS
Your little girl. I know you don't get to see her as much as you'd like and...

*Michael is unable to speak. The doctor senses this and quietly says*

I'll be in my office.

*Dr. Morris heads into a glass-windowed office next to Michael's cubicle. Michael sinks into his chair and carefully returns the photo to its place.*


MICHAEL
My little girl.

*He turns to the phone and checks if he can see what the doctor is doing. He picks up the receiver and begins to dial. Before he can get past the area code, a loud voice scares him, and he slams the phone down.*


DR. MORRIS (throwing a file down on the desk)
Michael, we've got a conference in twenty minutes. Do me a favor. Look over this file and be prepared to brief the department heads. [off Michael's perplexed expression] And cheer up. It's Employee Appreciation Day. The fun's only getting starting.

*He leaves Michael, who's thinking the idea of briefing the department heads will be about as enjoyable as fighting Gallagher.*


CUT TO:
EXT. LATER THAT DAY. HIGHWAY. *The doctor's jaguar speeds down the highway heading east.*

INT. THE DOC'S JAG. *The doctor and Michael are in their respectively seats. Michael stares out the window lost in thought. He has been getting it from Dr. Morris as we come in mid-conversation.*


DR. MORRIS
Somehow the disaster you caused at the meeting this morning will be fixed. By you. 'Why don't we talk about this tomorrow?' I can't believe you said that! Philips from Adjustments was going to have your head.


MICHAEL
Doc, how many more ways can I say I'm sorry? Should I try speaking in tongues? [he shakes his head then mumbles] Where's an F train when you need one?


DR. MORRIS
Did you say something? Anyway, you're very lucky half the staff decided not to come in to work this morning because of this afternoon's main event. A complete waste of time if you ask me.


MICHAEL
I don't know. I always liked Employee Appreciation Day. The family barbeques. The company softball team. Co-workers enjoying each other's company outside of work. It was always...nice.


DR. MORRIS
Nice? More like another form of spending taxpayers' dollars.


MICHAEL
Where are we going anyway? The IRS isn't haven't some fancy shindig catered in the park?


DR. MORRIS (annoyed)
You don't read a single memo that goes out, do you? You want to know where we're going? Look out your window. We're here.

*Michael looks out his window and sees...*

EXT. BALLPARK. Actually Shea Stadium to be exact, home of the New York Mets.


MICHAEL
They're not playing the Washington Senators, are they?


CUT TO:
EXT. MEZZIZINE LEVEL SEATS. *Michael and Dr. Morris emerge from the tunnel passageway and enter into the open park. People are everywhere. The game is about to start, and players appear on the field. The crowd cheers. A hotdog vendor passes by and the smell draws Michael's attention. He inhales after it as the vendor walks away. Dr. Morris searches among the seats.*


MAN (gesturing from a group in the first row of box seats)
Theo! Over here!


DR. MORRIS (as he and Michael head toward them)
Mitch, good to see you. [he greets everyone, shakes hands warmly, etc.] Sam. How's the knee? Diane, I wasn't expecting to see you here. I hope Ted and the kids are good. Simon.

*Through all of this, Michael is left standing unsure if he's supposed to know any of these people. Dr. Morris notices.*


DR. MORRIS (to Michael through gritted teeth)
Don't be a wallflower. [to the group] You all know my associate Michael Newman. Michael, [Dr. Morris motions to two young, smiling women seated next to each other] you remember Janine and Debbie from Data Processing?


MICHAEL (remembering something else, a smile appearing on his face)
Data Processing? Hello, ladies. It's nice to see you. Again I guess.

*He and the doctor take their seats. Michael looks out at the field and the game, loving what he sees. Janine, seated to Michael's right, can't stop smiling at him.*


DR. MORRIS (turning to Mitch behind him)
And where are the rest of the minions sitting? I know the government can't afford box seats for everyone.


MITCH
They're having too much fun in the upper decks. Not everyone lives the charmed life like us.


MICHAEL
Well, this is enjoyable. [trying not to look over at the continually smiling Janine] Um, are there any pay phones around here?


MITCH
Inside, by the concession stand.


DR. MORRIS (reaching into his pocket)
Just use my cell phone.


MICHAEL (thinks for a moment)
That's okay. I don't think I could hear in the crowd anyway.

*Dr. Morris looks at him questionably then takes his hand away from his pocket. Michael gets up and walks toward the exit, checking over his shoulder. Dr. Morris is looking back at him.*

INT. CONCESSION STAND AREA. Michael walks past various people. He finds a row of pay phones and reaches in for change.


MICHAEL
At least I finally have a wallet. [he takes out a quarter but before he places it in the slot he stops for a moment, holding the receiver] What do I say?

*He takes a deep breath then drops the quarter in the slot and dials a number. The phone rings three times and then is answered by a voice.*


VOICE (O.S.)
Hello? [pause] Hello?

*Michael hangs up, unable to speak.*


CUT TO:
INT. WISEMAN KITCHEN. *Heather is holding the telephone with a confused look on her face. Lisa is behind her holding her keys.*


LISA
Who was that, honey?


HEATHER (quietly)
No one.


LISA
Okay then. Come on. We're got to get to the store so I can start dinner on time.

*Lisa heads outside. Heather stands by the phone a moment longer.*


HEATHER (distractedly)
Sure, Mom. Whatever you say.

END OF ACT II