1. Denial — This script is perfection. It’s like a perfect cake, where each layer has the right ratio of frosting to layer, and none of that fruit bullshit to sneak up and surprise you. DELICIOUS SCRIPT CAKE.
2. Anger — WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT IT NEEDS A PAGE ONE REWRITE? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? DID EVEN READ IT? DID YOU NOT SEE THE PART ABOUT THE FROSTING AND THE LACK OF SURPRISE FRUIT?
3. Bargaining — Okay, listen. How about, like, just a tweak? I’ll punch up the jokes, maybe re-arrange a scene or two. The cake is just a little dented. Instead of making a cake from scratch, we’ll just frost over the script holes.
4. Depression — Why did I think I could do this? I can’t do this. I CAN’T CALL MYSELF A WRITER I CAN’T EVEN BAKE A SHITTY SCRIPT CAKE.
5. Acceptance — Okay, so we throw that cake out, and we make a new one. I just gotta look at the recipe, make sure that I’m adding the right ingredients. That practice cake served me well. Now I’m gonna make a new one.