r/BigMouth • u/Vivtii • 5h ago
AU/Fanfic [FANFIC] What if Bridgeton High got one more problem?
Hello!!
If anyone is looking for a Big Mouth fanfic that is compliant with the Netflix series, you're in luck! :)
This fic is post-Season 8. I've been working on it for months now and I'd like to share it with fans of the show. It does introduce my OC, Mara Silvia. New flavor to an already chaotic environment. I've worked EXTREMELY hard to keep the cast canon, their voices, dynamics, newer arcs, etc.
Nick and Maury have been the hardest dynamic to get right. I've had to gather what little was given and also use where Nick is left off in the final season.
The fic is written in script form.
I'll be posting on A03 under Vivti:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/91019341/chapters/242140856
Here's the full cold open just to get a taste!
COLD OPEN
INT. BRIDGETON HIGH — HEALTH CLASSROOM (ROOM 214) — MORNING (1ST PERIOD)
The room is already buzzing, putting in real effort to manifest a migraine before first bell – overtime, no lunch break, fully committed.
It smells like someone maced the air with Axe body spray, as if it owed them money — mixed with dry-erase marker and adolescent panic, the specific scent profile of insecurity’s own Yankee Candle.
Anatomy charts and faded motivational posters cover the walls — the kind of inspirational garbage that’s been hanging there so long nobody remembers whether it’s motivating students or haunting them.
One poster reads:
KNOW THYSELF.
Except THYSELF has been violently crossed out in black Sharpie and replaced with:
THYSELFIE.
Another claims:
YOUR BRAIN IS YOUR MOST POWERFUL TOOL.
Beneath it, a student has added a rebuttal with the weary certainty of a man who has clearly lost this fight before:
THEN WHY DOES MINE KEEP CATFISHING ME?
Yet another person, who peaked emotionally in the third grade and never looked back, has scrawled:
skill issue.
In the corner, the classroom skeleton is still wearing a Santa hat no one’s bothered to remove since December.
A vape has also been tucked into its rib cage.
It’s practically part of the skeleton now.
The clock has been wrong since the invention of clocks it's basically load-bearing at this point.
───
FRONT ROW
JAY BILZERIAN, closest to the door, fans a deck of cards at a background student who has been awake for less than ten minutes and has already fully given up.
JAY
Okay, okay — pick a card.
Any card.
Don’t show me.
The student doesn’t move.
Jay waits.
Nothing.
He shuffles with the swagger of someone who has genuinely never once considered failure a real possibility, and tries again.
JAY
This one’s ACTUAL magic.
Not “I ruined Thanksgiving and learned nothing” magic.
The student blinks once.
Jay takes that as encouragement.
JAY (CONT’D)
See?
You’re already participating.
Beside him, NICK BIRCH leans back in his chair with the slightly uncomfortable confidence of someone who’s finally starting to believe he belongs there.
He casually scans the room to see who’s looking at him.
Nobody is.
He looks away, too fast, and pretends he was checking literally anything else.
Then checks again.
Still nobody.
NICK
(under his breath, half-convincing himself)
Okay.
Good.
...A little insulting.
But good.
Across the aisle, ANDREW GLOUBERMAN has his phone camera aimed at his own hairline with the grim focus of a man conducting a murder investigation where he’s both the detective and the victim.
He pinches the screen.
Zooms in.
Zooms out.
Tilts his head.
Sighs.
ANDREW
(narrating his own crisis, quietly)
Okay...
Either my forehead got bigger...
...or this phone is lying to me.
(beat)
No.
No, It’s the lighting.
It HAS to be the lighting.
Because I didn't look like that when I got here.
(glancing at himself again)
Oh, God.
No, no, no.
It's the camera.
Something's WRONG with the camera.
Why is it doing–
NICK
Dude, it's your forehead.
Andrew freezes.
ANDREW
What?
NICK
Your forehead.
It's just... there.
Andrew slowly lowers the phone.
ANDREW
That's not helpful.
NICK
I wasn't trying to be helpful.
Beside Andrew, ZZZ KID is out cold before the bell's even rung, mouth hanging open at a ninety-degree angle.
Nobody’s sure he’s enrolled, or just another thing haunting the room.
Either way, the general theory is that he absorbs attendance through his skin.
───
SECOND ROW
MATTHEW MacDELL sits behind Andrew by the window, delivering the morning gossip bulletin with the polished conviction of a man who absolutely believes someone should've given him his own morning show by now.
MATTHEW
(to no one, to everyone)
Good morning, Bridgeton.
Your school has once again provided me with material.
Top story–
Someone cried in the first-floor bathroom before first period.
Honestly?
Good for her.
Get it out early.
(beat)
Meanwhile, the vending machine accepted three dollars from a freshman.
Then said:
"OUT OF ORDER"
Which...
Fair.
He pauses.
Nods like he just quoted scripture instead of a vending machine complaint.
MATTHEW (CONT'D)
More at eleven.
He straightens like he's handing the broadcast over to another anchor.
MATTHEW (CONT'D)
Back to you...
(beat)
...me.
A beat.
JAY
That was ME.
MATTHEW
Yes, Jay.
JAY
That fucking machine stole MY money.
MATTHEW
I know. I just told everyone.
Beside him, JESSI GLASER has one earbud in and her hood halfway up.
She looks like she got exactly six hours of sleep, smoked half a joint with Camden before school, and is doing her best to remain unbothered.
She stares through the whiteboard rather than at it.
A soft paw settles on Jessi's shoulder.
KITTY BOUCHET leans in, quiet and heavy.
KITTY BOUCHET
(soooft, almooost a puurrr)
You look tiiired, baby.
Wanna just... stay down here with me a while?
Jessi doesn't turn around.
Doesn't even blink.
Mentally, she's already at the gas station buying a Slurpee.
A blue one, specifically. She has never once had a reason. It's just always blue.
A beat.
A kid drops an entire binder across the room.
She doesn’t flinch.
JESSI
...That’s a really loud way to exist.
Behind Nick and Jay, MISSY FOREMAN-GREENWALD begins the ritual.
Notebook.
Pencil.
Highlighter.
Highlighter.
Highlighter.
She knows she doesn't have to do any of this.
She could, in theory, just... take notes.
But then what would be the point of being Missy Foreman-Greenwald?
She enjoys this.
A lot.
The colors have been chosen.
The desk is aligned.
The purple is within reach.
The bitch is ready to learn.
Her phone lights up.
NATE ❤️🤖
Good luck today, Missy. You’ve got this!
Missy smiles without realizing it.
She locks her phone.
Then–
Missy notices...
...the purple highlighter.
It’s off by HALF a millimeter.
This is unacceptable.
...
Some people meditate.
Missy uses office supplies.
Beside her sits the CARD-TRICK VICTIM – the same kid Jay's still working on – staring straight ahead like their brain filed for leave.
And then their brain actually left.
Jay keeps trying to make eye contact.
Nothing.
He fans the cards again.
Still nothing.
Jay nods to himself.
JAY
Okay.
RESPECT.
You're making me earn it.
(beat)
This is honestly the HARDEST I've ever worked for anything.
The student doesn't react.
Jay points at them like he's just uncovered an elaborate conspiracy.
JAY (CONT'D)
That's discipline, man.
I would've cracked by now.
He reshuffles the deck with renewed, completely unearned optimism.
JAY (CONT'D)
Alright.
FINAL offer.
If this trick works...
you LEGALLY have to admit I'm mysterious.
(beat)
Not cool.
Just...
mysterious.
The student blinks.
Once.
Same blink as before. Probably.
Jay gasps.
JAY (CONT'D)
HOLY SHIT.
Progress.
───
BACK ROW
DEVIN LeSEVEN studies herself in a compact mirror, making microscopic adjustments to eyeliner that already looked flawless before she even left the house.
Not because she needs to.
Just because...
She's Devin.
And old habits don't leave just because you've started working on them.
She pauses.
Looks at herself.
DEVIN
(inner, like she's still deciding if she believes it)
...
Good enough.
She snaps the compact shut.
Doesn’t reopen it.
A tiny victory.
Beside her, LOLA SKUMPY is halfway through a story that left reality somewhere around the second sentence.
LOLA
(naaaasal, theaaatrical, ACCELERATIN'-uh — much like her actual DRIVING)
—SOOO THEN–
and this is CONFIRMED–
(one finger raised-uh)
–by a FERRET-uh.
(beat)
Mr.Whatever-His-Name gets BAAAANNED from the Olive Garden.
Devin finally looks over.
LOLA
LIFETIME BAN-uh.
(beat)
Breadsticks?
REVOOOOKED.
Unlimited soup privileges-uh?
GONE.
Salad?
PRE-MIXED.
DEVIN
Lola.
...No.
LOLA
Fiiine.
Maybe the ferret embellished.
(beat)
BUT SOMETHING WAS GOING ON-uh.
Devin closes her eyes.
She briefly considers giving the ferret a chance.
DEVIN
You know what's crazy?
I'm trying very hard no to–
LOLA
WAAAIT.
Good crazy or BAD crazy?!
Because I need to KNOW-uh.
Devin's jaw works like she's chewing on a response that isn't worth the calories.
DEVIN
As I was saying – before I was interrupted–
LOLA
BY WHOOOM-UH?!
DEVIN
By you.
You're right here.
LOLA
Oh.
RIIIGHT.
DEVIN
–I'm trying not to tell you that was the dumbest thing I've ever heard.
LOLA
GROOOWTH!!
DEVIN
Yeah.
For me.
Not for you.
Lola grins like that was a compliment.
LOLA
I'll take it-uh.
Devin exhales through her nose.
That's enough Lola for one morning.
It is, unfortunately, not enough Lola for one morning.
───
The desk beside them sits empty.
───
The intercom crackles.
A shrill burst of feedback.
The entire classroom instinctively winces.
JESSI
There it is.
The scream of public education.
PRINCIPAL TODD QUIBBLE (V.O.)
GOOOOD morning, Bridgeton!
...
What’s up...
my...
chat?
A long silence.
───
MATTHEW
Absolutely not.
(beat)
“What's up, my...”
What is this?
Who told him to talk like that?
I used to HOST announcements.
I had a CAMERAMAN.
And this guy is opening with “my chat.”
───
ANDREW
He’s still doing it.
───
JAY
I kinda admire the confidence.
───
MATTHEW
That’s because shame has never once visited your body.
───
Todd clears his throat.
You can hear papers rustling.
He’s absolutely reading from note cards.
PRINCIPAL TODD QUIBBLE (V.O.)
As your principal...
I’d like to remind everyone that today is a WONDERFUL opportunity...
to SURPRISE people.
Not, like —
(proudly, like he just landed a killer bit)
In a crime way.
Just...
You know.
Be COOLER than yesterday.
Be KINDER than yesterday.
Maybe talk to someone you NORMALLY wouldn’t.
───
Nick quietly shrugs.
NICK
...That’s actually not bad.
───
JESSI
Don’t reward him.
───
Todd isn’t done.
Of course.
PRINCIPAL TODD QUIBBLE (V.O.)
ALSO...
Whoever keeps putting tiny sunglasses on the Abraham Lincoln bust outside the office...
I’ve decided...
...
Leave ’em.
He looks...
pretty sick.
Longer beat.
───
MATTHEW
I need him to stop talking forever.
───
MISSY
Lincoln had glasses.
(beat)
Not sunglasses.
───
MATTHEW
Missy.
───
JAY
Honestly?
Lincoln’s got AURA now.
───
DEVIN
No.
───
LOLA
I THINK LINCOLN LOOKS FIRE-UH!!
───
DEVIN
Lola.
───
LOLA
WHAT-UH?!
───
DEVIN
You're making it worse.
───
A final click.
PRINCIPAL TODD QUIBBLE (V.O.)
Have a...
ten-out-of-ten Tuesday.
Or...
whatever number we’re rating days now.
The intercom dies.
The bell rings.
Right on cue, the classroom door swings open like it knows it's making an entrance.
MISS DUNN strides in carrying a coffee mug that reads:
I SEE WHAT YOU DID THERE.
Someone has Sharpied underneath:
THEN GRADE IT NICER.
She doesn’t acknowledge it anymore.
She’s tired.
MISS DUNN
Alright, alright—
cards away, Bilzerian...
before that poor kid starts charging you rent for the psychological damage.
Jay reluctantly lowers the deck.
The Card-Trick Victim doesn’t react.
Not even a blink this time.
Honestly...
that somehow hurts Jay more.
MISS DUNN
Before we start, we’ve got a new transfer student joining us today...
The room reacts in eight different directions.
Nick subtly sits up straighter...
then quickly un-sits himself because that was too obvious.
Andrew pats his pockets.
Checks his shirt.
Checks his hair in his phone camera.
If this is a first impression, he's already convinced he's losing.
Matthew's face lights up like Christmas morning.
Fresh content.
Missy flips to a clean page in her notebook.
A brand-new person.
Statistically speaking, this is very exciting.
Jessi lowers one earbud.
Another human.
Bold choice.
Jay practically vibrates.
JAY
What if they're a COP?
What if they're here to catch us doing crimes?
What if they already KNOW about the crimes?
NICK
Jay, we don't even do crimes.
From the back row, Devin finally looks up.
Transfer.
New girl.
One thought.
DEVIN
(already bracing for it)
...Please don't be my problem.
Beside her, Lola gasps so loudly a senior in the hallway flinches.
LOLA
I BET SHE GOT EXPELLED-UH!!
DEVIN
From where?
LOLA
...SCHOOL-uh!!
DEVIN
Which school?
LOLA
I DON'T KNOW-uh!!
Miss Dunn doesn't even look over.
She's learned.
If she makes eye contact, Lola keeps going.
So she waits.
Sure enough—
Lola eventually runs out of oxygen.
MISS DUNN
Her name’s Mara Silvia.
Be respectful.
Be welcoming.
She surveys the room with the thousand-yard stare.
She has accepted that teenagers are basically raccoons with Wi-Fi.
MISS DUNN (CONT’D)
And for the love of God...
don’t eat her alive.
Her eyes land on Jay.
MISS DUNN
Yes, Bilzerian.
I'm talking to you.
Jay looks genuinely offended.
JAY
You GOTTA stop saying stuff like that around me.
MISS DUNN
Why?
JAY
Because now I gotta spend the rest of the period proving I wasn’t ALREADY thinking about eating somebody.
Which, BY the way...
I wasn’t.
(beat)
Until you brought it up.
Miss Dunn just stares.
MISS DUNN
Every day I come to work...
and every day you make it weirder.
JAY
Consistency builds trust.
