COLD OPEN – MATTHEWS KITCHEN, MORNING
Topanga flips pancakes. Cory sips coffee like it’s a personality.
Auggie: Family meeting. New era. From now on, please address me as… August.
Cory: Bold. Roman. Like a calendar or a Caesar salad.
Topanga: I like it. August is strong.
Auggie: Thank you. I am strong. I am August.
Cory: As your father and your history teacher, I will support your rebrand while also forgetting constantly.
Auggie: Dad—
Cory: Sorry. August.
Topanga: (hands him lunch) Power sandwich for a powerful name.
Auggie: (pockets it) Today the halls will tremble before August.
Cory: Please don’t make the halls tremble. Facilities sent an email.
Smash to titles.
ACT ONE
SCENE A – ABIGAIL ADAMS HIGH, HALLWAY – BEFORE FIRST BELL
Auggie stands by his locker with a handmade sign: “HI, I’M AUGUST (formerly Auggie).”
Ava bounces in, already mid-sentence.
Ava: Okay, August, big day, I’m making female friends. I’ve scheduled three “hey girl”s, two “love your hair”s, and one “do you want to sit with me?” at lunch. Wish me luck before I terrify them.
Auggie: You won’t terrify them.
Ava: I terrify most people.
Auggie: True. But in an iconic way.
Ava: (deep breath) Iconic. Okay. Go be August.
They fist bump. Dewey (leather jacket retired; cardigan era) strolls up, reading a stack of papers.
Dewey: Augustus! Augustin! Gusty!
Auggie: August.
Dewey: Copy. Augoose.
Auggie: No, that’s not—
Dewey: A Goose. Got it.
He posts a “Mr. Matthews Looking For Grading Assistant” flyer on the bulletin board.
Auggie: That’s not what I—
Over the PA, a tinny voice from the front office:
PA: Attention students: there is a goose on the athletic field. Please use caution.
A subtle distant HONK.
Auggie: …Did I just manifest a waterfowl?
Dewey: Congrats, August. Your brand has range.
SCENE B – ENGLISH CLASS – MID-MORNING
A small pod of girls—NADIA, PRIYA, EMMA—compare playlists. Ava sits nearby, vibrating politely.
Ava: Hello, fellow ladies. I am Ava. I enjoy baked goods, over-planning, and a boy who is now a month. I mean August.
Blank stares.
Ava: I mean, my August. Not the season. He’s a person. (too bright) Would you like to be my friends?
Priya: (kind, wary) Maybe we can start with hi?
Ava: Yes. Hi! I have cupcakes. (whips out a Tupperware)
Nadia: Are we… allowed to eat in here?
Ava: Technically no. But emotionally yes.
Emma: That’s… funny. (beat) We can talk at lunch?
Ava: (gasps) I’ll be there. Perfect. Excellent. Low key. Girl mode.
She sits on her hands to keep them from flapping.
SCENE C – CORY’S CLASSROOM – LATE MORNING
Cory stares at a mountain of quizzes. Dewey appears with a tackle box of pens and stamps.
Dewey: I’m here to professionalize your assessment pipeline.
Cory: I fear those words.
Dewey: (opens box) Behold: rubric rulers, empathy stickers, a stamp that says “NAILED IT,” another that says “ALMOST NAIL.” Red pens are canceled; we grade in joyful purple.
Cory: Topanga says purple is less aggressive.
Dewey: Mrs. Matthews is a brilliant jurist; I’m a brilliant… grader-ist.
He stamps a blank test “NAILED IT.”
Cory: You stamped the name line.
Dewey: They spelled it right. That’s worth something.
Cory sighs, amused despite himself.
ACT TWO
SCENE D – ATHLETIC FIELD / COURTYARD – LUNCH
A crowd forms a cautious semicircle. A hulking CANADA GOOSE patrols, hissing like a tiny dragon. Auggie steps up, determined.
Auggie: I’ve got this. I’m August. Animals respect months.
Mikey (the big kid from homeroom) watches, munching chips.
Mikey: Goose’ll take your sandwich and your soul.
Auggie: Not if I don’t show fear.
The goose honks exactly in Auggie’s soul. He flinches, recovers.
Auggie: (gentle) Hey, friend. You’re lost, huh?
He slowly sets his lunch down, backs up. The goose eyes the sandwich, then Auggie.
Dewey films like a nature doc.
Dewey (whisper): Here we witness August doing interspecies diplomacy.
Auggie: (soft) It’s okay.
The goose waddles to the sandwich… and surprisingly stops short, still glaring.
Mikey: He wants respect. And a clear path out.
Auggie: (to the crowd) Okay, everybody take one big step back. Make a lane to the gate.
They do. The goose considers, then snatches half the sandwich like a bandit and waddles through the lane toward the open gate.
Auggie: (to goose) Good choice, sir.
The goose pauses, honks at Auggie—almost approving—then exits. The crowd breaks into relieved chatter.
Mikey: You didn’t die. Not bad, August.
Auggie: (glows) Thanks, Mikey.
Dewey: The goose respected the rebrand.
SCENE E – CAFETERIA – LUNCH CONTINUES
Ava slides her tray beside Nadia, Priya, and Emma, trying desperately to be… normal.
Ava: (measured) Hello, I am Ava at a reasonable volume. I can sit here? Or over there? Or exactly nowhere? Dealer’s choice.
Priya: Sit. (smiles) We saw you not scream at the goose. Impressive restraint.
Ava: Thank you. I am practicing a new setting: “Approachably Peppy.”
Emma: What do you like besides cupcakes and… scheduling?
Ava: Oh, I also like… (collects herself) listening. (beat) You go first.
The girls brighten and start chatting. Ava nods, asks questions, breathes between sentences. Progress.
Across the room, Auggie walks by; Ava gives him a tiny thumbs up. He returns it: same team.
SCENE F – CORY’S CLASSROOM – AFTER SCHOOL
Stacks shrink. Dewey’s stamps multiply.
Cory: You can’t replace every “incorrect” with “Opportunity!” That’s not— (sees a paper) Did you draw a tiny Erie Canal with boats?
Dewey: Visual learners. Also boats are cute.
Cory: (beat, softens) You are Farkle-lite.
Dewey: I prefer “Dewey Max.”
Cory: Here’s the deal. You can help, but we grade for learning, not glitter. And no stamping until you actually read.
Dewey: (salutes with a purple pen) Aye aye, captain pedagogy.
They read together. Dewey catches a good argument in a quiet kid’s paragraph.
Dewey: Hey, this one—he made a point. Like a real one.
Cory: Then tell him. In purple.
Dewey smiles and writes a sincere note.
SCENE G – HALLWAY – END OF DAY
Auggie tapes a small label under his locker nameplate: “August (Auggie).”
Ava approaches with Nadia, Priya, and Emma—laughing, lighter.
Ava: August, meet my… acquaintances. Who in no way fear me. Anymore.
Nadia: Ava is intense but in a useful way. She organized our chem notes during lunch.
Emma: And she asked about my dog for like five whole minutes without telling me a story about her dog.
Ava: Growth.
Priya: We’re gonna try coffee this weekend. Girl mode, level one.
Ava: (beaming) I will not bring a binder. Probably.
They head off, making plans.
Dewey trots up, ink-smudged.
Dewey: Mr. Matthews says my feedback had “value.” (proud) I used words.
Auggie: I used a sandwich to negotiate with a goose.
Dewey: We’re both men of letters.
Auggie: Different letters.
Cory joins them, overhearing.
Cory: Daily lesson time. Names matter. But you don’t make people use a new name with posters. You make them want to by showing them who you are… consistently.
Auggie: So… if I’m August, I’m August because I am. Not because I taped a sign to my chest.
Cory: Exactly. And if your friends slip and call you Auggie sometimes—
Auggie: That’s also me.
Cory: That’s also you.
They share a look.
Auggie: Thanks, Dad.
Cory: Anytime, Au— (catches himself) August.
Dewey: I’m calling you “The Goose Whisperer.”
Auggie: Please don’t.
Dewey: Copy: Goosegust.
Auggie: That’s worse.
They laugh.
TAG – FRONT STEPS / SCHOOL LAWN – MAGIC HOUR
The goose waddles across the lawn wearing a caution cone like a jaunty hat. Auggie opens the gate; the goose exits with dignity.
Crossing Guard: Thanks, kid. That bird’s been here since third period.
Auggie: He just needed a lane.
Topanga texts a photo: a new contact entry “August 🧡.” Auggie smiles.
Nearby, Ava and the girls sit on the steps sharing cupcakes; Ava listens as Emma talks, genuinely present.
Inside, Cory flips a paper stamped (correctly) “Nailed it,” with Dewey’s handwritten note: “Strong point. Keep going.”
The goose honks once like an applause cue. Fade out.
END.
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