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[serene tone]
- So, Chantal, I did something for you.
I filed something called an ineptitude appeal.
Now, this is a leftover New York state loophole
from the Prohibition era
when people used to be paid
to carry boxes of alcohol
to illegal establishments
without actually knowing what was in the boxes.
Now, technically speaking,
under this vague and arcane criminal statute,
you could be considered a "boxhead."
- For the record, I never carried anything.
- Uh-huh. Yeah, I-I-I understand that.
I--what I'm telling you is,
I can get you out of prison.
- Oh. Whoa.
Okay, just--hold on, Leonard.
Things are moving really fast.
- Do you not want to leave prison?
- Well, I mean, I just got used to it, and,
like, the food is, like, legit yummy,
and, like, the girls here all think it's really cool
that I did those crimes.
- Okay, you're really breaking me here.
I j--you know what? Just--
all you have to do is--here.
Sign this.
- Okay, well, could you, like, at least give me
five minutes to ask where they got their mattresses from?
- Just sign the paper, Chantal, okay?
- [sighs]
I mean...
[sighs] I don't know, Leonard.
Like, I signed my way into this mess.
I just--I really think that I'm gonna need to get a lawyer
to look over this before I sign it.
- I am your lawyer, you idiot!
You know what? Just sign the paper.
Sign the fucking paper!
God damn it, for the love of God,
sign the paper!
- Okay.
I better not go to jail for this.
- [exhales]
["Obedear" by Purity Ring playing]
- ♪ Oh, but dear, the sky is low, watch ♪
♪ Fluent sea men rig... ♪
- It's just so small.
Like, I don't even understand how we all fit in here.
Like, is this, like, an optical illusion?
Is there even enough oxygen to breathe?
- Yeah, I know, it's a big change, honey.
- Yeah, more like a small change, Mom.
- Well, we just have to make do, right?
Robert! - Huh?
What?
- Okay, what is wrong with Dad?
- The doctors don't know.
They just speculate
that it's some kind of situational dementia
brought about by disturbing circumstances.
- What? Why?
- Chantal, get a clue!
This is all because of you!
- What... - Let's not shout,
because we actually do not know what these walls can handle.
- No, no, Mom.
She needs to understand.
Your legal fees
tapped us out completely,
and now we are poor,
and we all mysteriously lost our jobs for downsizing,
but it is obvious that the real reason
is because we have a family member
that was stupid enough to associate
with that bad, old man!
We can't get hired anywhere.
They practically chased us out of Chappaqua.
And you did that to us, Chantal.
You did that!
- Okay, Catherine, when you raise your voice,
it is traumatizing.
- Oh.
- You know, and on top of everything else,
Ted is selling drugs.
- I'm not selling them, Linda.
I'm microdosing, and it's a legitimate practice.
One tab is 1/12 of a hit of LSD
and can provide me with a wealth
of incredible innovations.
Believe me when I tell you
I will invent something
that will save our family.
- Ted, my family
is not your family,
and I don't feel comfortable when you say "our family."
- Chantal, is that you?
- Ugh. Yes, Daddy.
I've been behind you for 15 minutes.
Oh, God. Okay, this has got to stop.
I don't like it. You guys are freaking me out.
I am not a poor person, okay?
I don't want to be a Witherbottom anymore.
- Oh, but honey, you are a Witherbottom.
- This isn't Witherbottom.
It's rock bottom.
[faint TV chatter]
I'm sorry. What are you doing?
- Eating, Chantal, like a family.
- Hmm.
Uh, I don't think that you are eating
because I don't see food.
Sticks and rings are not food. [scoffs]
- I was resistant at first,
but the nuggets have really proved themselves.
They can be a little salty, which is why it's good
to take a little dip into the sweet and the sour.
It's a pleasing balance.
- Catherine, your husband is very high right now.
- Can you just... - [snorts]
- [sighs] Okay, I am not eating this.
- Just think of dinner time like we're at a carnival.
- I want goose!
- You've never had goose.
- Yeah, okay, and you have?
- Okay...
- [scoffs]
[quavers]
It's crazy that I ate better in prison than this.
- So, Chantal,
everyone is trying to do their parts
to help the family out in their own way.
Catherine is selling bus vacations over the phone.
Linda found a way to make money off of emails.
- Mm-hmm. Every CC is 20¢.
- Robert is...
unable to work,
and I am busy
challenging the frontiers of perception
in an attempt to save us all,
and so I think it may be up to you, Chantal,
to begin applying for jobs.
- Oh, my friend Binda could get you a job
at a money order service in Queens.
- And I did overhear the neighbors yelling
about needing someone to take care of their baby.
You could ask about that.
- [sobbing]
No!
- [sighs]
- I want a different life!
And I want all of you to be different.
I don't want to change-- I like how I am--
but I want everything else to change!
Excuse me from the "table."
[sobs]
[sighs]
[whimpers]
[spacey music]
♪ ♪
Why don't I feel anything?
[sighs]
Dare I check the expiration dates?
[mellow dance music]
♪ ♪
- We've been waiting for you, Chantal.
- Take a seat.
[classical music]
♪ ♪
- Who are you?
- [chuckles] You tell us.
♪ ♪
- Oh, my God.
Are you the most famous dead authors in the world?
- [laughs] all: We are.
- We are.
Should we go around the table
and introduce ourselves?
- Let's let Chantal do it.
- Oh, that's a good idea.
- F. Scott Fitzgerald. [laughs]
William Shakespeare.
Mr. James Baldwin.
Mark Twain! Hi.
Oh, Virginia Woolf.
Mm, Sylvia Plath.
Maya Angelou.
You're, like, my biggest inspiration.
- Same.
- [laughs]
And wait.
Are you R. L. Stine?
- That's right.
I thought you were alive.
- Now there's something we need you to do for us,
Chantal.
- What is it?
- You need to write a book.
- You need to tell the world about your mean family,
about your jerk sister.
She can't act like that and expect you
not to write a book about her.
- But I don't know how to write a book like that.
I only know how to write poems really well.
- Oh, well, we know that. We love your poetry.
It's all we read now.
- I've burned everything that isn't your poetry,
even the things I need.
[laughs]
- That's why we're here. We can help you.
- Let us speak through you, Chantal.
You're the vessel.
- I am?
- Do the world a beautiful favor
and express what is inside of you.
- Drink from this goblet of wine,
and may the passage of wisdom
be complete.
♪ ♪
[laughter]
♪ ♪
- [sputters]
[driving classical music]
♪ ♪
- Hey, uh, Chantal?
Can I talk to you for a second?
- [sighs] Can it wait?
I'm kind of on a roll.
- No, it can't wait, okay?
Look, uh,
I have a lot of unexpressed anger
toward you about how you handled
my miscarriage.
You didn't even acknowledge it
or ask how I was,
and it's just-- it's hard for me to--
- Shh!
♪ ♪
- Wow. Okay.
[sniffling]
♪ ♪
- Yes, yes, yes!
Yes! Yes!
Yes!
- Chantal, you didn't hear what I was doing
in the other room, did you?
- No, Ted, I'm trying to focus.
- Now I'm embarrassed.
Part of me wants to tell you what I was doing.
♪ ♪
- I'm done.
I did it! Ha!
No, no.
We did it.
Thank you, friends.
- What?
- [quietly] Fuck you.
[breathes deeply]
♪ ♪
- Well, what can I say? I read it.
We all read it.
I think everyone in the building read it.
- Oh, that's great. [laughs]
- Yeah, it's fascinating, to say the least.
Parts of it are extremely problematic.
- Mm. - It's a very difficult read.
- Yes.
I--I wanted to challenge the reader.
Good books do that.
- No, I mean literally difficult.
It took me eight minutes
just to figure out how to open the lock.
- Right.
It's supposed to look and feel
like a diary.
- [chuckles]
- But I feel like if you didn't get that,
then you didn't even really understand
the book that you were reading.
- Yeah, well, you know, it's unappealing.
Right? I mean, look how ugly this is.
[laughs]
And very costly, I would imagine.
I think you'd have to charge the consumer at least $65
just to make a profit because of these materials.
This is real leather.
It's ugly leather, but it is real, and it's heavy.
I mean, whoo!
You know, you can't just carry this in your bag
or throw it in your coat pocket.
And also, the title, right? "Imperfect Ten."
I don't understand. What does that mean to you?
- Well, it means that my whole life
has been a series of realizations
that even though the common person
might think that I am a perfect ten,
I am indeed flawed.
I may still be a ten,
but I am not perfect.
- And you're just going by Chantal?
You're a one-name person?
- Well, if that also wasn't clear in the book,
I hate my family, so there's, like,
no reason for me to keep my last name anymore.
- Okay, um,
I don't think that you should be a writer.
In fact, I ask you to never write again.
This book is deranged,
and not in a way that I can work with it.
If I were to publish this,
people would freak out.
It would make the world a worse place.
[pensive music]
♪ ♪
- But I'm the one.
♪ ♪
[panting]
You're so stupid, Chantal!
None of your dreams are ever gonna come true.
You're just a stupid loser idiot!
[spacey music]
[cries]
♪ ♪
- Get back here! [yelps]
[woman shouts] - My God!
- Is that a book?
Charlie? Help!
My friend was hit by a book!
Where did that come from?
Oh, God. Oh, God.
Charlie. Oh, fuck.
Call Lorraine.
Oh, God. Oh, God.
She was hit by a book!
♪ ♪
- "Imperfect Ten" by Chantal.
I wonder what that means.
Hmm.
[driven classical music]
[laughs]
Oh.
♪ ♪
Listen up, everybody.
I found a book on the street,
and it's brilliant.
It makes me wonder if I should've been
scouring the streets all these years,
looking down instead of looking up.
Let everyone else look up!
Now, here's the kicker about this book.
It's written by a ten-year-old little girl.
- Wow. - It's a work of art--
somewhere between self-help and a manifesto
on how to live without shame and without awareness.
There's a passage in the chapter "Picky Eater"
that will break your heart.
Whoever this little Chantal is,
she's a genius.
Yeah.
[spacey percussive music]
♪ ♪
- [laughs softly]
Are you k...
A child?
Wait.
Why does it say I'm a child?
- I'm Wilma. It's nice to meet you both.
- I'm Helen, and this is my daughter, Chantal.
- I'm Chantal.
- Well, I really hope that's true,
but there's a long line of little girls out there,
all claiming that they wrote this book.
So, Chantal,
if that is in fact your name, if you wrote this book,
you would recognize your own words, correct?
Good.
So I'm gonna go ahead and quote from the book,
and I want you to finish the quote for me,
and this way, I will know if you are indeed the author.
Kay?
"Life is a roller coaster.
"Time is the tracks,
and wisdom is the..." what?
- Don't look at me.
You wrote it, Chantal.
Wisdom is the...
- Is the screams?
- [sighs] Shame on you both.
- You are such a disappointment.
It's no wonder that your father left.
Excuse you!
- What? - We found her.
- Are you sure? How can you be sure?
- Chantal, can you repeat
what you just said to me for Wilma?
- The wisdom is the park map.
- That's right.
That's right. The wisdom is the park map.
Give me that phone.
Chantal, I am so, so happy
to have found you.
- Oh, my God, and I am so, so happy to have been found!
[laughs] - Oh, Chantal.
I don't know if you understand
what you did,
but you have basically written the Bible!
- [laughs]
- This thing is a manifesto
on how to be a fully realized human being
at the age of ten.
I mean, no one has ever done that before.
- Thank you so much.
Um...
The only thing is that I--
- I mean, I sobbed hysterically.
I cried for the little girl I was.
I cried for the girl I never got to be.
This is a masterpiece. I mean it.
I suppose it would mean nothing if an adult wrote it,
but you wrote it,
and I need you to be on my show.
How does that sound?
I want the world to love you as much as I do.
- Oh, my God.
Okay.
Okay, okay!
Yes! Yes, I will!
- Yes, yes! She said yes.
Chantal!
- [giggling] Yes!
[mischievous orchestral music]
- This is Chantal. Leave a beep. [laughs]
[answering machine tone] - Shit.
[sighs]
- Where's Chantal?
I want to meet her before we go on the air.
- I have been trying her all day,
and I'm--I'm gonna get her.
- This is Chantal.
Leave a beep. [laughs] [answering machine tone]
- Chantal, honey. I'm hoping you're close.
Please have your parents call me back when they get this.
Wilma, I know you don't want to hear this,
but I would consider doing an audience share circle
as a backup just in case she doesn't--
- No.
I promised my audience Chantal,
and I'm going to give them Chantal.
That's my job.
Your job is to make sure she gets here.
- Show starts in five.
- I'm gonna go out there,
and I'm going to introduce Chantal,
and I expect for her to come on stage
the moment I call her, got it?
- [muttering indistinctly]
[mischievous music]
[phone buzzing]
- Hello?
- Chantal! Are you close?
- Yeah, I'm in a cab. I'm, like, three blocks away.
- Sweetie, could you please
put one of your parents on the phone?
I just want to check that you're actually close.
- Oh, wait. Look, yeah, here we are.
We're here.
We're--we're--we're pulling up to the curb.
We're--we're getting out. Thank you.
We're just paying the driver, so...
- Oh, thank God.
Okay, there's unfortunately
not enough time for you to meet Wilma
before the show, but don't worry.
We're gonna prep you about everything you need to do
once you get here, so hurry, Chantal.
Run.
♪ ♪
- [sighs] Okay.
♪ ♪
- All right, y'all.
When that applause light comes on,
I want y'all to lose your damn minds.
You hear me? Right.
As long as that light is on, don't stop.
Keep going, keep clapping. That's right.
And you are not allowed to stop applauding
as long as that light is on.
Okay? Okay?
Okay? Okay? Yeah.
All right.
[laughter] All right, here we go.
Let's practice. Show 'em that light.
♪ ♪
[cheers and applause]
♪ ♪
That's what I'm talking--yes! Yes!
Even more. Even more.
I can feel it. You got some more in you.
I want to make it sound like
the animals just broke out of the zoo!
Give it to me!
Ooh, Lord have mercy.
[wild cheers and applause]
♪ ♪
- Okay.
Hello.
Um, I'm Chantal.
- But--are you her mom?
- No. I'm...her.
- But you're old.
- I'm 29. That's hardly old.
- Oh, my God. Oh, my God.
I can't believe this. - We're about to go live.
- [whispers] She's not a child. She's an adult.
♪ ♪
- Oh, Jesus. Oh, no.
Oh, no. We have to tell her.
We can't let this woman
go out there on live television.
- Well, I can't tell her. Wilma will kill me.
She will actually kill me. You tell her.
- I absolutely am not gonna tell her.
I can't lose my job, Frankie. You do it.
♪ ♪
- I quit.
I quit.
♪ ♪
[upbeat music playing]
♪ ♪
- And now I have the honor of introducing
a very special guest--
a hero, a friend,
a child.
Chantal!
[cheers and applause]
Do we have her?
Oh, maybe she's shy.
You know how kids are.
Even prodigies get shy.
Let's make her feel welcome.
Chantal! Chantal!
[all chanting] Chantal! Chantal! Chantal!
[chanting fades]
[audience murmuring]
- I'm sorry. What's happening?
- I'm Chantal.
- I don't think so. No.
Frankie?
Frankie, who is this adult woman?
- I--I can explain.
- I hope you can explain where Chantal is.
- She's right here.
Ten years old or not, my book spoke to you.
Right?
You had an emotional experience,
and that's--that's really all that we can ask for in life,
is an emotional experience that--that changes us.
- Fuck you.
[all gasp]
- I'm sorry.
I have not used that word in 35 years,
but I'm so full of rage right now!
You tricked me to receive acclaim.
- I didn't mean to.
I truly was just trying to find my purpose,
like, you know, a sense of belonging in the world,
and isn't that what we all want?
Wilma, even you?
Some sign that we're, like, even here on this Earth
for a reason?
So maybe I'm not ten.
Maybe I haven't been ten for 19 years,
but I know what it is to have your heart stomped on,
and I know what it is to feel like
the whole world is against you,
because you know what, Wilma?
I am Chantal.
[applause]
[cheers and applause]
- Stop it. Stop clapping.
Don't clap!
Everybody, stop clapping for her.
- No, let them.
They want to. They know what's good.
[applause continues]
- She's a fraud.
Stop clapping, everybody!
I will not stand for this kind of entitlement
on my stage.
This is preposterous.
Who do you think you are?
- Honestly...
myself.
[dark music]
Honestly, myself.
- [gasps]
- Honestly, myself.
- Not guilty.
- Honestly...
myself.
Honestly,
myself.
[woman shouts]
Honestly, myself.
Honestly, myself.
[Taser zapping]
Honestly, myself.
- Chantal, who are you hiding from?
- Honestly,
myself.
- [screams]
[eerie music]
♪ ♪
- [coughs]
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