The scene opens at a family dinner table in a modest Ohio home. The air is thick with the scent of processed cheese and frozen pizza. Mrs. Wormwood sits at the head of the table, her hair up in an aggressive high ponytail, scrolling through Instagram on her phone. Mr. Wormwood, a man whose primary personality trait is his obsession with lawn care and fantasy football, sips from a can of Diet Coke. Their daughter, Matilda, a sarcastic and brilliantly sharp 8-year-old, sits quietly, sketching in her notebook.
Matilda (narrating to herself, with a wry smile): "In a world full of losers, you'd think the universe would throw me a bone... but no, I got stuck with these two."
Mrs. Wormwood (oblivious, scrolling through her phone):
"Ugh, can you believe this? Amber got invited to that TikTok party. She has so much more followers than me. I need to get more followers. Maybe I'll just post a video of me dancing... I'm so cute, I swear."
Mr. Wormwood (interrupting, glancing up from the TV):
"Amber again? Does she even know the first thing about lawn care? No? I didn't think so. She should learn from me, I've got the perfect formula for a killer lawn, that's for sure. That's the American dream, Matilda. The grass is greener when you do it right, y'know?"
Matilda (deadpan):
"Yeah, Dad. I'm sure the dream is just mowing the lawn and watching old reruns of Family Feud. Revolutionary stuff."
Mrs. Wormwood ignores her completely, too busy trying to perfect her TikTok angle.
Mr. Wormwood (pointing at Matilda's sketchbook):
"Why aren't you out there playing soccer with the other kids? You know, being normal?"
Matilda (without looking up):
"Because Dad, being normal is overrated. I'm too busy fixing the world one reality check at a time."
At this, Mrs. Wormwood snaps her head up.
Mrs. Wormwood (eyes narrowing):
"Matilda, you're not fixing anything. You're just a weird little girl. You should be more like the other kids. We don't need any more... miracles around here."
Matilda (quietly):
"Maybe that's the point, Mom. Maybe miracles are exactly what this world needs."
Just then, the phone rings. It's the doctor.
Mrs. Wormwood (grabs the phone):
"Hello? Yeah, this is her. Wait—what? WHAT?!"
Cut to: The hospital. Mrs. Wormwood, already a couple of weeks overdue, is on the verge of a mental breakdown.
Mrs. Wormwood (panting and sweating):
"I am not having a baby. I'm not. No way. NOOO."
Doctor (calmly, holding up a clipboard):
"Mrs. Wormwood, you're having a contraction. The baby's on its way. It's... it's a miracle."
Mrs. Wormwood (sputtering):
"I'm NOT HAVING A BABY. I'm not. Contractions are for pregnant women, and I am not pregnant—wait, I am, but I'm not—WHAT?"
The doctor tries to calm her down, but it's clear she's not listening. Cut to: the delivery room, where Mrs. Wormwood is still protesting, but more frantic now.
Mrs. Wormwood (glaring at the doctor):
"Don't tell me it's a miracle. I don't need any more of those. I just want a normal child! One that fits in with the rest of us!"
Doctor (gently):
"Every child is a miracle. Even yours."
After an awkward pause, the doctor gives the baby to Mrs. Wormwood.
Doctor (smiling):
"Congratulations, Mrs. Wormwood. It's a girl."
Mr. Wormwood (on the verge of fainting):
"A girl?! But the balloons—they said 'boy'!"
Matilda (from the hallway, rolling her eyes):
"Wow, a girl. You mean that's what I am? I'm a girl?"
Cut to Matilda's POV: she's staring at the world from the window of her room, sketching a picture of herself. A miracle in her own eyes. She's not what her parents expected, but she knows better. Matilda's a force to be reckoned with—so why not shake things up a little?
Matilda (singing softly to herself as she writes): "Every life is a miracle... every life is a miracle... but especially mine."
The soundtrack kicks in as Matilda's voice cuts through the silence, unapologetically. The world better watch out—there's a new kind of rizz in Ohio. Matilda's here to stay, and she's not just a miracle, she's the future.
