Dawson's Creek Unused 'Edgy' Script

The scene: Inside Dawson's house. It is time for Dawson's birthday party, the event looked forward to all year by the children of Dawson's Creek; Dawson, Joey, and all their oh-so-beautiful yet blandly interchangeable friends are sitting and standing around, drinking soft drinks and eating various savoury nibbles from bowls, excitedly. Some suspiciously old-looking 'teenagers' are dancing nonchalantly to give an unconvincing party atmosphere. Bad music plays quietly in the background.

Dawson wanders around making small talk with his guests.

Dawson: Hello there, how's it going my friend? I trust you are enjoying my seventeenth birthday soiree?
Dawson's Friend #1: (Spluttering) You're seventeen? Wow, you look about thirty!
Dawson: Yes well, this is a crazy world when a man's emotions can cascade and tumble without warning, like a tumbling waterfall of jealousy and lust.
Dawson's Friend #2: What!??

Joey approaches carrying a tray of vol-au-vents

Dawson: Ah hello Joey, you're looking ravishing as usual ma petite cherie. (He has a look in his eyes which clearly says 'fancy a shag?')
Joey: Dawson, I singularly deem that it's time for you to start facing up to your gender conflicts and address your repressed envy.
Dawson's Friend #1: What?!???
Dawson: You know I'm feeling decidedly fragile about my entire delicate situation at the present moment, Joey. I don't need you trawling through my past like a combine harvester through the fields of my consciousness...
Dawson's Friend #2: For God's sake, I don't know any other seventeen-year-olds who speak like this! You're usually pretty easy to understand, but a couple of ginger beers and you're a simile-crazed twat! I get the unnerving impression that you are internalizing your negative emotions, and I'm off.

Dawson's Friend #2 flounces off in a strop. As he leaves, another blandly good looking Dawson's Friend (whom we shall call Dawson's Friend #3) enters through the same door.

Dawson's Friend #3: Hey Dawson, wasn't that Your Friend #2 leaving? Was it something I uttered?

The camera pans down to a plastic bag in Dawson's Friend #3's hand.

Dawson: What's that you've brought with you, My Friend #3? Is it the savoury cheese nibbles you promised?
Dawson's Friend #3: Yes, but I've also brought a special present as it's your birthday... (He looks round nervously, then pulls from the bag a single can of lager.)
Dawson: What the HECK do you think you're doing bringing... alcohol!... into my house? You know I'm still underage! Oh my God, I apperceive the police closing in now like a noose made of stringy cheese stuff around my neck!
Joey: Even the mere presence of alcohol has adversely affected your metaphor skills, Dawson! 'Stringy cheese stuff'? I would stay and argue so that you don't drink the evil liquid, but one of the normal seventeen-year-olds is choking on his own vomit over there, and needs my help.

Joey rushes off to the alcohol-and-LSD deranged youth, leaving Dawson, Dawson's Friend #1 and Dawson's Friend #3 standing alone.

Dawson's Friend #3: So what do you say, fellas? Shall we split it three ways? (He gives a conspiratorial wink)
Dawson's Friend #1: Have you done this before, Dawson's Friend #3? What's it like? I heard it's dangerous!
Dawson's Friend #3: It's okay, it's low-alcohol... I've only done it once before, but believe me, the buzz is even bigger than the first time you successfully construct a past-present-participle to create the mother of all metaphors!
Dawson: Okay, but not here. Let's go outside, it's quiet. We can do what we need to do, and nobody will be any wiser.

The three ponces slip outside, while the party continues in 'full swing' in the house. The music playing is currently Sixpence None The Richer. Naturally.

Dawson: Here, let me try first.

Dawson's Friend #3 opens the can and passes it to Dawson, who takes a tentative sip. He whoops with gratification, takes another large swig, and passes it to one of the friends (it's hard to tell which one) before collapsing on a patio chair.

Dawson: Wow! For the first time in my life, I feel truly invincible! Thank you, My Friend #3, for introducing me to this wonderful beverage! I feel the sudden urge for soggy doner meat and chips...

The others finish off the can, and collapse. One of them falls on Dawson, who slips from his chair and falls on the concrete floor, cracking his head on the empty beer can in a tragic, yet symbolic, irony.

Dawson: Oh shit.
Dawson's Friend #1: What has this low-alcohol lager done to you, Dawson? Could it be that you just uttered a swear word?
Dawson: Ouch. My cerebral structure seems strangely violated.
Dawson's Friend #1: That's better.

Joey rushes out to find Dawson lying on the floor, and she kneels down to him as Sixpence None The Richer's 'Kiss Me' begins to play. Again.

Joey: Well Dawson, I hope you've learnt your lesson from this little escapade?
Dawson: I certainly have, Joey. Although at first, drinking a third of a can of low-alcohol lager seemed daring and exciting, I concede that I will never again even consider touching alcohol if this is the net result. It's back to the blackcurrant Tango for me.
Joey: Kiss me, you fool!
Dawson: Okey-dokey.

They assume the position, but at the last second Joey pulls away.

Joey: Ugh! Your breath smells like the inside of my father's arse!
Dawson: How do you know?
Joey: That's not the issue here. I will not have a relationship with an alcoholic.
Dawson: Damn that alcohol!

Credits roll, to another bad American soft-rock ballad.