[Lively, dramatic music accompanies a montage of the Baby-Sitters Club members as a group followed by clips of each girl with her individual title card and tagline voiceover.]
KRISTY: In the game of life, I make my own rules, and that means wearing turtlenecks year-round.
CLAUDIA: The world is my canvas to paint, so who needs math and spelling?
STACEY: I’m from New York and have diabetes. That’s it. That’s the tagline.
MARY ANNE: Don’t come for me unless you want me to cry.
DAWN: The only thing I don’t recycle is drama.
MALLORY: I’m not a horse girl, not yet a horse woman.
JESSI: Life’s a dance, and I’m ready to take the lead—as long as I’m home by 9 p.m.
INTERIOR, CLAUDIA’S BEDROOM
STACEY: I can’t have any drama tonight. This is the big Sitters & Socialites Diabetes Gala, and I’m the keynote speaker. I hope the other girls can keep it together.
CLAUDIA (confessional to camera): This is the third diabetes gala in Stoneybrook this month, and Stacey has been the keynote speaker at each one. I think it’s kind of weird that they can’t find anyone other than a thirteen-year-old babysitter to talk to all these big donors. Almost as weird as parents leaving their babies with eighth-graders. Or the fact that we’ve been in middle school for, like, thirty-five years.
CLAUDIA (tying a third live butterfly onto her headband): Is your glam squad coming?
STACEY: Of course they are. I don’t know if you remember, but I’m from the city—you know, New York City? If there’s an event, I’m getting glam. You really think I’d do my own hair and makeup for the Sitters & Socialites Diabetes Gala?!
CLAUDIA: Well, excuse me, Miss Big Apple.
STACEY: I was actually runner-up for Miss Big Apple. Twice. How dare you bring that up before my event.
CLAUDIA: Look, I made my own freaking dress out of penne pasta and duct tape for this stupid event. Sorry if I thought you might actually be able to swipe on some Lip Smackers by yourself for once in your privileged life.
[MARY ANNE and DAWN enter the room with garment bags draped over their arms. MARY ANNE holds a kitten in one hand and a framed photo of her boyfriend, LOGAN, in the other. DAWN is sipping a Hailey Bieber Strawberry Glaze Skin Smoothie from Erewhon. The closest Erewhon is 2,991 miles away from Stoneybrook, Connecticut.]
MARY ANNE: Are we interrupting something? You guys aren’t fighting, are you?
STACEY: Jesus, Mary Anne, are you crying already? You just got here.
[MARY ANNE dabs at her tears with the kitten.]
DAWN (sitting in lotus pose and hovering above the floor): Be cool, everybody. Don’t be all, like, uncool. Maybe we could do a centering meditation together.
CLAUDIA (shoving a piece of candy into her mouth): And maybe you could cool it with the patchouli incense, Dawn. The smell is making my Mallomars taste like a headshop. We can’t all be as zenned out as you with your whole California sober kick.
DAWN (confessional to camera): My mom is the one who’s California sober. Why do you think she’s always leaving the remote in the freezer?
[Dawn’s mom, SHARON, wanders through the shot, balancing a hacky sack on her head.]
DAWN (cont’d): I won’t even touch kombucha. The strongest stuff I’ll put in my body is extra-firm tofu. (She breaks a piece of tofu off a block and snorts it up her nose.)
[KRISTY enters the room tossing a baseball in the air. MALLORY follows behind her reading a well-worn copy of Marguerite Henry’s Misty of Chincoteague. JESSI leaps through the door in a leotard, tutu, and pointe shoes while humming Irene Cara’s “Fame.”]
KRISTY: Why is everyone getting ready so early? We still have two hours till the event.
STACEY (closing her eyes and pressing her fingers to her temples): Kristy. Where is your dress for tonight?
KRISTY (adjusting her baseball cap): Dress? Gross. I thought I’d just wear this.
CLAUDIA: You’re wearing a turtleneck and a wool sweater. In July. There’s sweat literally dripping down your back.
JESSI: C’mon, leave Kristy alone. I’m sweating too.
STACEY: Jessi, that’s because you haven’t stopped doing grand jetés across the room since you got here. My makeup artist can’t even get in the door—could you take the whole Swan Lake routine outside?
MALLORY (looking out Claudia’s window while munching on some oats from a feed bag): Hey, look, I think our ride is here.
STACEY: Already?! The car was supposed to be here at seven. My perm hasn’t even set!
[STACEY stands to look out the window as her stylist continues to cover her hair in ammonium thioglycolate.]
STACEY: Tell me that’s not the car the gala sent for us. A family van?! Who sends a little family van for six people?!
CLAUDIA (counting on her fingers and MARY ANNE’s kitten’s toes): Um, Stace, there are seven of us… (checks kitten’s toes again) I think …
STACEY: Whatever. Mallory and Jessi are basically the same person.
MARY ANNE: Except Mal is white, and Jessi is Black.
DAWN: But nobody in the Baby-Sitters Club cares about that.
JESSI: Yeah, well, maybe you should. Are you one of those people that doesn’t see color? Tell me you’re that girl. Tell me you’re—
STACEY: Jessi, we are not doing this tonight. I can’t afford to get canceled right before my event.
CLAUDIA: Okay, but while we’re on the subject, could everyone chill on talking about my “almond-shaped eyes”?
MARY ANNE (raising her hand with the kitten in it): Claud, are we still allowed to say you look “exotic”?
[CLAUDIA and JESSI lock eyes. JESSI nods and deftly grabs the hair stylist’s leftover ammonium thioglycolate. She pours it into the half-empty two-liter bottle of Diet Cherry Coke on Claudia’s desk without the other girls noticing.]
CLAUDIA: Listen, Stace is right. Let’s not get into it tonight. It’s Stacey’s big event. What do you say we have a toast before we head out?
[JESSI passes out plastic cups of soda to the girls, who all raise them to cheers.]
JESSI: To friendship.
STACEY: To diabetes!
KRISTY: To turtlenecks!
DAWN: To juice cleanses!
MARY ANNE: To my kitten!
MALLORY: To horses!
CLAUDIA: To the Baby-Sitters Club.
[KRISTY, MARY ANNE, STACEY, DAWN, and MALLORY quickly drink their sodas. JESSI and CLAUDIA share a serene smile.]