We Strike at Dawn!

Is your sketch ready? You know you’ve been checking out Friday Sketch War the last couple of weeks thinking “I could do that. Hell, I could do better than that.” Well, put your pencil where your mouth is and fire off a sketch. Post a link and join the melee.

You can find more information here.

You can read past sketches here, here and here.

Glengarry Red Cross

(The waiting room at a blood drive. NURSE BLAKE (Alec Baldwin) and NURSE WILLIAMSON (Kevin Spacey) stand in their scrubs before LEVENE (Jack Lemmon), MOSS (Ed Harris), and AARONOW (Alan Arkin), who are sitting at tables and filling out forms to give blood.)

BLAKE
Are they all here?

WILLIAMSON
All but one.

BLAKE
Well, I’m going anyway.
(to the group)
Let’s talk about something important!
(BLAKE sees LEVENE picking up a Nutter Butter from a plate on the counter)
Put that cookie down! Cookies are for donors only.
(LEVENE laughs incredulously. BLAKE approaches him.)
You think I’m fucking with you? I am not fucking with you. I’m here from Red Cross HQ. I’m here from Mitch and Murray. And I’m here on a mission of mercy. Your name’s Levene?

LEVENE
Yeah.

BLAKE
You call yourself a blood donor, you son of a bitch?

MOSS (standing)
I don’t gotta listen to this shit.

BLAKE
You certainly don’t pal. ’Cause as you all know, first prize is you can donate a pint of whole blood. Anybody wanna hear second prize? Second prize is you donate platelets. Third prize is you’re anemic. You get the picture? You can’t donate blood, you can’t donate shit, you are shit, hit the bricks pal and beat it ’cause you are going out!

MOSS (sits)
What’s your name?

BLAKE
Make Your Next Meal A Hearty One, that’s my name. You know why, Mister? ’Cause you had a piece of toast and a cup of coffee for breakfast this morning, I ate a twelve-dollar omelet. That’s my name!
(to LEVENE)
And your name is “You’ve Spent 5 Cumulative Years In Europe Since 1980.” Then have a fucking Oreo and go home.
(to everyone)
Because only one thing counts in this life! Get them to draw from the vein which is dotted! You hear me, you fucking fairies?
(BLAKE flips over a blackboard that features two sets of letters. He points to “B-S-E.”)
“B-S-E.” B: Bovine. S: Spongiform. E: Encephalopathy. Have you got it, you fucks? If so, get your pulpy, Creutzfeldt-Jakob riddled brainpan the fuck out of my waiting room.
(He points to “A-B-AB-O.”)
“A-B-AB-O.” “A” can receive “A” and “O.” “B” can receive “B” and “O,” ’cause it’s fuck or walk. “AB” can receive “A,” “B,” “AB,” and “O” — the universal recipient, for Christ. “O” is the universal donor.
(walks to MOSS)
Nice guy? I don’t give a shit. Allergic to iodine? Fuck you — go home and vomit some shellfish.
(to AARONOW)
You think this is abuse? You think this is abuse, you cocksucker? You can’t take this — how can you take the abuse when you sit in that chair with a fucking needle sticking into your forearm? You don’t like it — leave. You know what it takes to donate blood?
(BLAKE goes to his briefcase and removes a vial of copper sulfate solution with a drop of blood in it. He dangles it in front of his crotch.)
It takes a hemoglobin concentration of over 12.5 grams per deciliter to donate blood.
(throws the vial back in the briefcase, pulls out a stack of cards)
These are the “Be Nice To Me” stickers. And to you, they’re gold. And you don’t get them. Why? Because to give them to you is just throwing them away.
(he hands the stack to WILLIAMSON)
They’re for donors. I’d wish you good luck but you wouldn’t know what to do with it if you got it.

(exit BLAKE and WILLIAMSON)

FNSW: The Certificant

(Scott Johnson sits at his desk. Ivo Princip enters the office, wearing a suit and carrying his resume. He crosses, shakes Scott’s hand, and sits opposite.)

SCOTT
Nice to meet you, Mr. Princip. I’m Scott. May I call you Ivo?

IVO
No.

SCOTT
O–kay…why don’t you tell me a little about yourself.

IVO
Did you not read my resume?

SCOTT
I did, but I was hoping maybe you could maybe elaborate, go into a little detail about some of your experience, tell me why you think you’d be a good fit for this position.

IVO
You are hiring for engineer, yes? I am engineer.

SCOTT
O–kay. Let’s start with a few questions, then. I see you’ve got your masters, that’s good. But you’ve only got one year of experience —

IVO
— I am certified.

SCOTT
What now?

IVO
I have MCSE, CNA, CNE, SCJP —

SCOTT
— That’s great, too. How about a couple of quick tech questions? Let me get a feel for your level. Can you explain polymorphism to me?

IVO
Polymorphism. No.

SCOTT
Nothing? Maybe you want to try talking through it, see if you can’t give me a few of its traits?

IVO
No.

SCOTT
Can you tell me why you would use an abstract class?

IVO
No.

SCOTT
Define inheritance?

IVO
Inheritance?
…No.

SCOTT
Ivo —

IVO
— Mr. Princip.

SCOTT
Mr. Princip. It says here that you’re an expert in object oriented programming.

IVO
Object oriented programming. Yes. I am certified.

SCOTT
Can you define that for me?

IVO
Object oriented programming?

SCOTT
Please.

IVO
No.

SCOTT
Alright. Let’s step back a bit, then. I see here under this technology section you’ve also got Photoshop listed. You certainly wouldn’t be doing any of that here, but while I was working my way through college I actually worked in a graphics shop. So why don’t you tell me how you’d use an alpha channel?

IVO
Alpha channel?

SCOTT
Yes.

IVO
That is…there are channels…many of them…this is the first. It is first channel.

SCOTT
O–kay. Let’s jump back over to programming for a minute. Can you give me an example of a recursive algor —

IVO
— May I ask question first?

SCOTT
Sure.

IVO
Are you certified?

SCOTT
Me? No. I don’t have any certifications. It’s never come up. I really only have time for the occasional conference or seminar and haven’t had call to get certified.

IVO
Then how can you be expected to ask me question? Is like…is like student, asking teacher, no? I am certified, but you are not. It make no sense, yes?

SCOTT
Excuse me??

IVO
How can I…to explain, be clear, to you? You are member of team, yes? Maybe I speak with someone more senior. Your manager is certified?

SCOTT
I’m the team lead.

IVO
So, is team of junior engineer.

SCOTT
We get by. Well Ivo —

IVO
— Mr. Princip.

SCOTT
Mr. Princip. It’s been interesting meeting you. I wish you luck in your job search.

(Ivo sits for a minute, then gets the hint and leaves.)

BLACKOUT

LIGHTS UP

(Scott sits at his desk. The door opens and Steve Kramer enters.)

SCOTT
Boss. What’s up?

STEVE
Scott, you know you’ve been trying to get some help on the team, well, I’ve got it fixed. I just interviewed a rockstar of an engineer.

SCOTT
That’s great! Do you want me to talk to him?

STEVE
No need. Already hired him. Whipsmart, and has certifications out the ass. Hell of an engineer. Ivo Princip. You’ll be reporting to him starting Monday.

BLACKOUT

Friday Sketch War

If you’d like to get in on the fun, simply write a sketch and post a link to it. If you’d like to check out some of the battles that have already transpired you can go here. If you’d like to see a funny video about a guy flipping off a phone you can go here.

Dave, like last week, is the first one to strike. Hilarious.

Update: Richard’s joined the fray.

Here is my answer to the question “How can we spur the market and turn this recession around?”

(Michael Chertoff, Secretary of Homeland Security, is giving a press conference.)

MICHAEL: We have received word of some rumors of possible attempts at terrorism somewhere in or around the United States. So we are raising the Terror Threat Level to Orange.

(Members of the press call out to him. He points at one.)

GAIL: Gail Jones, CNN. Should the American people be afraid for their lives?

MICHAEL: We live in a nation that is under constant threat of violence from people who truly hate our guts, but the American people shouldn’t be worried.

(More shouting, Michael points to someone else.)

MATT: Matt Rod, NBC News, America’s News leader. Secretary Chertoff, if the people shouldn’t worry, then is there any real threat?

MICHAEL: Oh my God, yes. These are vicious, freedom hating people who want to see all of us die a horrible, painful death. You know, they’ve infiltrated our country and are living among us, waiting for the opportunity to kill us all in our sleep. I just thank God I’ve got the Secret Service protecting me.

(More shouting, Michael points to someone else.)

LEE: Lee Scott, CEO of Wal-Mart. Should people stockpile food and clothing during this heightened state of panic in America?

MICHAEL: Yes. We are recommending that all Americans stock up on bread, milk and the latest in fashion and electronic goods. We strongly urge them to purchase these items at a discount chain store with everyday low prices.

(The scene shifts to a resort beach. Two men are lounging in the sun.)

ZANJI: Ahmed, what are we doing at this resort? I thought as a terrorist I would be getting to create more terror than this.

AHMED: Relax Zanji. Chill out. There really is not much for us to be doing anymore.

ZANJI: But how can we call ourselves terrorists if we do not terrorize anyone?

AHMED: The world has changed, my friend, and we have to change with it. The infidels are so busy trying to scare their own people that we can take it easy for a while.

ZANJI: And you like it this way?

AHMED: Are you kidding me? I love it! Come on, let us go inside. We will order a couple of coconut mimosas, play some blackjack and pay an expensive call girl to run around in a burka.

(Brickabrac enters, very excited)

BRICKABRAC: Ahmed! Zanji!

AHMED: What is it Brickabrac?

ZANJI: Are we to blow up this infidel sin palace?

BRICKABRAC: No, I have a massage scheduled at 3 o’clock.

ZANJI: Then what?

BRICKABRAC: I just called our accountant and the stock portfolio has tripled!

AHMED: Praise Allah!

BRICKABRAC: You were right, Ahmed, Exxon/Mobile is having a fantastic year.

AHMED: (Sarcastic) Gee, I wonder why?

(They all begin laughing. The scene shifts back to the press conference.)

BETTY: Secretary Chertoff, what are we doing to protect our oil reserves?

MICHAEL: Instead of wasting man power on oil fields that are located in a hot, hostile environment, we are preparing a preemptive invasion of The Soviet Union to take theirs.

BETTY: Why would we do that?

MICHAEL: To protect the American way of life and bring democracy and Jesus to all heathen people. Besides, it’s something the boys at the Pentagon have been wanting to do for quite a while.

BETTY: But it’s not even called The Soviet Union anymore.

MICHAEL: Shh. Don’t let the boys in the Pentagon hear you say that.

GINNY: Secretary Chertoff, were there any specific targets named in the unspecified threats?

MICHAEL: We know that these hate-mongering people hate us, our freedom and our lifestyle. That is why we think that their next attack will strike the very heart of all we hold dear.

BRAD: Our children?

GAIL: Hollywood?

MICHAEL: McDonald’s.

(Everyone gasps.)

BRAD: Should people stop going there?

MICHAEL: No. That would be playing right into their hand. If our children can’t have saturated fat and cheap plastic toys served to them by an underpaid teenager in a paper hat then the terrorists have truly won. I implore all Americans to eat at McDonald’s morning, noon and night as a sign of defiance to these men of terror.

(The scene shifts back to Ahmed, Zanji and Brickabrac who are looking at a newspaper.)

BRICKABRAC: (Pointing at something in the paper) There! There it is!

AHMED: McDonald’s is up 35%!

ZANJI: Praise Allah!

(The scene shifts back to the press conference.)

GAIL: Have there been any threats to disrupt the elections in November?

MICHAEL: All elections have been postponed indefinitely. His Eminence, Premier Bush, feels that since he was President when all this began, he should remain in power until it is over.

GAIL: And when will all this be over?

MICHAEL: Until evil is obliderated from the face of the Earth or until the Bush bloodline ends. Which ever comes first.

(The scene shifts back to Ahmed, Zanji and Brickabrac. Brickabrac and Ahmed are on the phone talking to different people.)

BRICKABRAC: (On phone. Very menacing.) Yes, I would like to report a terrorist threat…Not just to this one Coca-Cola plant but to all Coca-Cola plants worldwide.

(He hangs up the phone.)

AHMED: (On phone.) That’s right, Jerry, I want you to buy as much Coca-Cola stock as you can. I have a good feeling about it.

(He hangs up)

ZANJI: (Sipping a cocktail) Ahmed, I am sorry that I doubted you.

AHMED: Zanji, my friend, if there is one thing I have learned from studying our enemys in Washington, it is that they hate their people way more than we do. Now, who wants to go to Disneyland?

(The men all cheer and high five each other.)

BLACKOUT

The Psychiatrist Sketch

PSYCHIATRIST
Your wife maintains that you don’t show her enough affection.

PATIENT
I show my wife a lot of aggression.

PSYCHIATRIST
“Affection.”

PATIENT
Yes.

PSYCHIATRIST
You said “aggression.”

PATIENT
No, I said affection.

PSYCHIATRIST
It’s very interesting to me that you confused those two words.

PATIENT
Whatever I said, I meant “aggression.”

PSYCHIATRIST
Aggression?

PATIENT
No, aggression. You’re browbeating me.

PSYCHIATRIST
Not at all. I think your wife feels unappreciated because of the lack of physical displays of affection.

PATIENT
I think my wife is turned off by it. I think she hates public displays of aggression.

PSYCHIATRIST
“Affection.”

PATIENT
When we’re out, I try to give her a slug, or even just a little kill on the cheek, and she’s up in arms. It embarrasses her.

PSYCHIATRIST
Have you attempted this in private?

PATIENT
This isn’t private stuff! It’s not like I’m trying to French kill her, or unbutton her shoot or anything.

PSYCHIATRIST
French kill her?

PATIENT
Kiss. It’s not a French kiss, just a little punch on the cheek.

PSYCHIATRIST
But is she more responsive in private?

PATIENT
I try to get aggressionate in private. But usually she’d rather talk.

PSYCHIATRIST
She wants a conversation?

PATIENT
Yes, but I’m not in the mood for conflagration. She keeps drowning on and on, and talking gets in the way, when I just want to strangle up with her, or do some killing.

PSYCHIATRIST
“Kissing”?

PATIENT
And this isn’t deadroom talk, it’s more like nagging. Like a pop quiz about our suffocationship.

PSYCHIATRIST
You just referred to your bedroom as a “dead-room.”

PATIENT
Whatever tomb it is, that’s not the point. I can’t get into physical aggression if she keeps going on about “expressing our true flayings for each other.”

PSYCHIATRIST
“Feelings”?

PATIENT
Yes! Isn’t that ridiculous? She keeps talking about “revealing our true ammunitions” and “expressing our flayings.” “Finding true stabbiness in our knife together.”

PSYCHIATRIST
I think she just wants to hear that you’re committed to maintaining the relationship.

PATIENT
I’m definitely committed to maiming the relationship. That’s not even a question. We’re very attacked to each other.

PSYCHIATRIST
She needs to hear that. It seems to me.

PATIENT
I shove my wife. I shove her very much. And I don’t want anything to gun between us. But sometimes, I swear, I just want to grab her by the hair and run her through a meat grinder.

(pause)

PSYCHIATRIST
That was a very violent image.

PATIENT
Yes, I’m sorry.

FNSW: 62nd Annual Moriarty Awards

(Dancers finish up what must have been a large and elaborate number as lights dim, music stops, and applause is heard. A curtain closes and Billy Crystal walks to the center of the stage.)

BILLY
Wasn’t that great? I’ve been informed that no animals were killed during the performance of that dance, but two senator’s daughters and the ambassador from Uruguay all sank another two inches in Ernst Blofeld’s quicksand trap!

To present our next award, here is last year’s winner of Villainess of the Year and this year’s winner for Best Robotic Attack on a City: Population 1 Million or More – Poison Ivy and Dr. Victor Von Doom.

(Doom and Ivy enter and walk to a podium stage right.)

IVY
Victor and I don’t strike fear in people’s hearts all on our own–

DOOM
–I do.

IVY
–and you wouldn’t be able to enjoy your favorite megalomaniac–

DOOM
–Doom.

IVY
–striding down the street ahead an army of zombie cyborgs without the help of thousands of people.

DOOM
It takes dozens of scientists, engineers, and technicians just to maintain the fusion reactors, floating fortresses, and giant lasers used for burning names on the surface of the moon.

IVY
Not to mention the costume designers, bio-engineers, sentient killer squid, and henchmen who make all the best plans come to life. They make us look good. Earlier this week in a separate ceremony, those folks got together for their awards presentations.

(Roll video of Henchmen Banquet. Henchman is standing at podium, clutching a Moriarty tightly.)

HENCHMAN
…like to thank my mother, for never being there for me. My first parole officer, for believing I’d never be a contributing member of society, and…

(BOOM! The brick wall behind the stage explodes, revealing Superman. Mass pandemonium as all the henchmen try to flee.)

DOOM
HAHAHA! Maybe next year they’ll make it all the way through that ceremony.

(Music swells and Ivy and Doom walk off the stage. Billy reenters from stage left.)

BILLY
(Doing his Fernando Lamas impersonation) Doom, Dahling. Enough with the mask already. Take it off. I can tell, underneath, you look mahvelous. And that Ivy. I’d like to dig around her roots. Have you seen the stems on that one?

(Back to normal voice) It’s not often I’m awed in someone’s presence. Jack Benny, George Burns, Bob Hope, and this next man. What can I say about this next presenter that won’t get me killed in a giant thresher? He’s a level-nine intelligence, a snappy dresser, and an absolute lady-killer. I mean that. He kills ladies. Literally. Ladies and Gentleman, Lex Luthor.

(Lex enters to a hearty round of applause, waving and smiling.)

LEX
Thank you, thank you. Thanks for that welcome, everyone. Although I shouldn’t be surprised by it. After all, I do have satellites targeting all your loved ones!

(Polite laughter.)

LEX (CONT’D)
And by loved ones, I of course mean you!

(Raucous laughter.)

LEX (CONT’D)
But you’re not here to listen to me joke, or to tremble in fear at my presence – though tremble you should – it’s time for the big prize of the night. The Moriarty for the Evil Plan of the Year. The nominees are: Dr. No for his plan to replace the world’s oil supply with sea water, foiled by James Bond; El Seed for his plan to release genetically modified corn that can grow on asphalt, foiled by The Tick; The Joker for his plan to poison Gotham City’s drinking supply, foiled when he abandoned the plan midway through out of boredom; Kingpin for creating an army of evil hybrid Spiderman-Daredevil clones to take over New York; and Heat Miser for trying to melt out Christmas…again!

(Fumbles with envelope, gets out card. He squints a few times but can’t make it out, so he puts a pair of granny glasses at the end of his nose.)

LEX (CONT’D)
No!

(Dr. No starts to get up in the audience.)

LEX (CONT’D)
Sit down, Julius. I didn’t call your name. The winner is Kingpin, for creating an army of evil hybrid Spiderman-Daredevil clones!

(As Kingpin rises and waves at the applauding crowd, alarms start ringing and lights start flashing.)

LEX (CONT’D)
To the escape pods!

(Billy comes back to the podium as everyone runs away in the chaos.)

BILLY
See you next year, folks!

Friday Sketch War

I wrote a sketch and posted it. Richard did the same and challenged me to a Sketch War. This will, hopefully, be an ongoing exercise, which you are free to join us in. Simply write a sketch and post it on your blog every Friday. Be sure to let me or Richard know about it and we’ll post links to it. I haven’t seen one from Richard yet, but he’s in a different time zone, so I’m just assuming he’s still in bed. But Dave, the early bird, has already lobbed the first sketch grenade of the day and it’s pretty damn funny.

Update: Richard has launched an assault. (Not to be confused with an insult.)

But enough chit-chat! Once more unto the breech dear friends!

“A Dream Upon Waking”

(Mary #1 stands in the middle of the stage wearing a surgical gown. Dr. Peter enters with a chart.)

MARY #1: Give it to me straight, doc. I’m dying aren’t I?

PETER: No no no. But I am going to need you to tell me why your father loved your sister more than you.

MARY: Well, I suppose, I wasn’t enough of a tomboy for him.

PETER: Oh Mary, this isn’t good. It isn’t good at all.

(Jerry races in and shakes Mary.)

JERRY: Mary, wake up! You’re dreaming.

(Jerry races off.)

PETER: Now, Mary I’m just going to take off my pants and we’ll continue the examination.

(Peter begins unbuckling his pants. The lights shift to another part of the stage and Mary #2 is sitting at table having coffee with Denise.)

MARY #2: And then I woke up.

DENISE: A doctor, with no pants, talking about your father? Sounds like a perverted sex dream to me.

MARY #2: Everything is sex to you.

DENISE: That’s because I’m a man trapped in a woman’s body.

MARY #2: You’re a lesbian?

DENISE: No. I’m a man trapped in a woman’s body.

(Jerry races in and shakes Mary #2)

JERRY: Mary, wake up! Wake up!

(Jerry runs off. Denise removes her wig and begins to unbuckle her pants.)

DENISE: Now you tell me if you’ve ever seen a unit this big in the girl’s locker room before.

(The lights shift to another part of the stage and Mary #3 is talking to Chip in the office break room.)

MARY #3: And it was me, but it wasn’t me, you know?

CHIP: I hate dreams like that.

(Jerry races in.)

JERRY: Seriously Mary, Wake Up!

(Jerry races off. Dr. Peter enters without his pants.)

PETER: Ah, there you are. If you would kindly bend over that table we can continue with the examination.

(The lights shift to another part of the stage. Mary #1, Mary #2 and Mary #3 are standing next to each other.)

MARY #3: This can’t be good.

MARY #2: I wouldn’t think so.

MARY #1: You guys want to make out?

(The three Marys look at one another. They shrug their shoulders.)

MARY #2/MARY #3: Sure.

(The lights go out on stage and single spot comes up on Jerry sitting in the audience. He awakens with a start and looks around at everyone looking at him.)

JERRY: Damn it. You always wake up before the best part.

(Dr. Peter, still pantless, appears behind Jerry.)

PETER: All righty then. If you’ll just bend over we can continue the examination.

BLACKOUT

Friday Night Sketch War

Fellow Sitcom Room alum and all around great guy Michael Brownlee posted a hilarious short sketch tonight. He’s challenging himself to be more disciplined about writing, and figured writing an occasional short sketch will keep his comedy muscles limber. I agree. As I’ve been extremely lax writing lately, I thought I’d take the opportunity to make it a more communal (and competitive) process. I probably think that because it’s Friday night, and I’m reminded of all the great comics bloggers getting into the fun with Bahlactus’ Friday Night Fights.

Now, my sketch below is nowhere near as good as Michael’s this time. He didn’t post until late afternoon and I spent several hours just trying to come up with something. I think it’s okay. Next time, however, I plan on having a kick-ass sketch. I’ll let y’all know if it’s going to be weekly, monthly, or sporadically. If the latter, I think there’s a fungicide that’ll clear it up.

So, without further doobie-doobie-doo, here’s my first entry into
Friday Night Sketch War! (the name’s in flux. We think it needs the word “death” in it more.)



Mitt Romney’s Weekend

(Two workers bring a large crate into a dark, cramped lab and stand it up. They exit and Al Gore steps out of the shadows with a crowbar. One quick pry and the front of the crate opens, exposing a frozen Mitt Romney. Al steps close and reaches around to Mitt’s back; Romney comes to life.)

MITT
10010101 00010100 10100101 10–

AL
–damn it. They left him on hex. Hang on a second, Mitt.

(Al makes another quick adjustment at Mitt’s back.)

MITT
Greetings. How may I be of assistance?

AL
Actually Mitt, I’m going to assist you.

(Al unbuttons the front of Mitt’s shirt, and pops opens a panel on his chest. Taking a screwdriver and chip from one of the lab benches, Al attaches the chip to the center of the circuit board.)

MITT
That…tickles! Woohoo! What’s that feeling?! Wait, what is feeling?

AL
I’ve installed your Central Emoting Unit.

(Mitt starts to cry.)

AL
I know this is all very new to you. But you won’t be going through it alone, I promise.

(Mitt starts to giggle.)

AL (CONT’D)
I wish I’d had someone around to help me sort out all the new data I was receiving. One minute I was running fourier transforms to find some way of winning a protracted legal battle over the Florida recount and the next I was hosting Saturday Night Live.

(Mitt starts to dance.)

MITT AL
I’m a little teapot, short and stout.
Here is my handle, here is my spout.
When I get all steamed up, hear me shout.
Just tip me over and pour me out.
That’s great, Mitt.
Glad you’re getting in touch with yourself.
But we’ve got to boogie before the Professor gets back.

MITT
Who’s that?

AL
The Professor? You don’t remember? What do you remember?

MITT
I’m going to be President!!!

AL
Oh boy. Do you know what day it is?

MITT
Christmas Eve.

AL
Damn it! Damn! Your memory units must have been fried when those TSA idiots ran you through the x-ray. Mitt, it’s February 8. You’re out of the race.

MITT
For reals, homes?

AL
Don’t do that. It’s just a CEU. I didn’t install a hiphop chip.

MITT
So Thompson finally got in the game. I should have seen it coming. It’s so clear now. He’s down-homey. I couldn’t compete with that.

AL
Uh, actually…never mind. Anyway, we need to get out of here. He’ll be back soon.

MITT
Right. The Professor. Who is he?

AL
I don’t really know. All I do know is he built both of us to become President. I can’t help but think if he’d just remembered to put in our emotion chips we could have won, too. Let’s go. Tipper’s waiting in the boat.

MITT
A boat?

AL
We’re on an island. And we don’t want to be caught outside at night, when the mist rolls in.

(The Professor enters. He’s a very wizened man with a shock of white hair.)

AL (CONT’D)
It’s too late! Run!

(The Professor takes a small device from his pocket and presses a button on it. Al and Mitt freeze.)

PROFESSOR
Welcome back, Al. It’s been quite a while. Mitt, glad to see you.

AL
This was your plan all along, wasn’t it. You knew I’d come to free Mitt!

PROFESSOR
I suspected.

AL
You won’t get away with it. I’ve got friends now. Clooney will save us.

PROFESSOR
No. No he won’t. As we speak my Nick CounterBot is finalizing a deal with the WGA. Your Hollywood friends will soon have too much work to do to notice you’re gone. By the time they realize it, it’ll be too late.

MITT
Too late for what?

PROFESSOR
My ObamaBot will be President.

MITT
I don’t understand. Why would you put two of us in the same campaign?

PROFESSOR
It’s all the fault of my stupid assistant. He forgot to put in your CEU. Did the same thing with Gore, here. So I kept him busy scaring those crash survivors on the other side of the island while I built the ObamaBot. He’s perfect. And now, I have no use for the two of you except as spare parts.

Think I’ll build myself a Scarlett JoBot.

(Mitt starts to cry.)

MITT
Sorry Al. It’s all my fault. You never should have come back for me.

AL
It’s alright, Mitt. We’ll get out of this. I promise you.

PROFESSOR
Where’s that incompetent assistant? Gilligan!!!

BLACKOUT

Friday Funnys: Sketch Edition

I’ve been trying to exhibit a little more discipline with my writing. So, to keep the muscles churning and to take a break between more serious projects, I try to write a sketch or two. Here’s an example.

Bad Credit Baby

(Tom and Debbie enter their house. Immediately Dan and Dawn and Ben and Betty jump up from behind furniture.)

ALL
Surprise!

TOM
What the hell?

DEBBIE
Dawn, Betty, what are you guys doing here?

DAWN
We wanted to be here when you brought the baby home.

BETTY
We wanted to be the first to meet the little guy.

DAN
So where is he?

BEN
Don’t tell me you guys forgot him in the car already?

DEBBIE
Why don’t you tell them, Tom.

DAWN
Oh no, is something wrong with him?

TOM
No, he’s fine. The hospital wouldn’t let us bring him home is all.

DEBBIE
Tell them why dear.

TOM
Do we have to do this now?

DEBBIE
They’re going to find out sooner or later.

BETTY
Find out what?

BEN
He’s a retard isn’t he?

DEBBIE
He’s not retarded. He’s perfect. Ten fingers, ten toes, two nostrils, two ears, two eyes.

DAN
So where is he?

TOM
Our credit check came back with some glitches.

DEBBIE
“Our” credit check? It was your goddamn student loans that did this. I told you just to pay them.

DAWN
What are you going to do?

TOM
They want $250,000 in cash before they’ll release him. What can we do?

(Chester Appleway stands up from behind the couch and speaks directly to the audience. He is dressed in a polyester suit with a bad hair piece.)

CHESTER
How many times has this happened to you? Has your bad credit history caused you to forfeit your children so they could be sold by the hospital to pay for your bill? Well worry no longer. I’m Chester Appleway and I’m here to help.

TOM
Who’s this?

DEBBIE
Did you guys invite him?

DAN
I’ve never seen him before.

CHESTER
For three easy payments of $59.95 I can restore your credit history.

DEBBIE
You guys let a salesman into our house?

DAN
He must have slipped in when we were bringing in the cake.

DEBBIE
Where’s the repellant?

TOM
There’s some under the sink

(Tom exits into the kitchen.)

CHESTER
Act now and I’ll send you, free of charge, this brand new waffle iron.

(Tom re-enters.)

TOM
Damn it, we’re out!

DEBBIE
Well we have to get rid of him. What can we do?

(Bradley Wiffler stands up from behind the chair. He wears coveralls over a white shirt and tie. He wears a button that reads “Ask me how to kill things.”)

BRADLEY
How many times has this happened to you? You have a pesky salesman in your home, but you’re fresh out of repellant. Well, my friends, your worries are over. My name is Bradley Wiffler and I’m here to help.

DEBBIE
Jesus, another one!

DAWN
You’ve got an infestation.

TOM
Are you sure none of you guys let them in?

(Silence. They all look at Ben.)

TOM
Ben. Are you sure none of you guys let them in? Ben? Hello, Earth to Ben.

BEN
Sorry guys I forgot my line.

(They all moan and shake their heads. Dirk Wrightwood, the director enters with a clipboad and wearing a headset.)

DIRK
Cut!

BEN
I’m sorry everyone. I blanked.

DEBBIE
Well, if you weren’t snorting so much fucking coke, maybe you could remember your fucking lines.

BEN
Blow me, Debbie! Oh wait, that’s how you got this job to start with.

DEBBIE
Fuck you!

BEN
Fuck yourself.

DIRK
People, people, people, people, people, settle down. Let’s get everyone back to their starting positions. We’re gonna take it from Tom and Debbie’s entrance. Debbie, honey, let’s see some emotions, huh? You’ve just come back from the hospital without your baby. For fuck’s sake, you’ve been carrying this thing around for nine months and now they won’t let you keep it? Show me some grief, babe.

DEBBIE
Dirk, I’m trying, but I have nothing to draw from. What can I do?

(Miranda Queezland stands up from behind the couch. She wears black pants, a black turtleneck and a black beret. She has a red scarf tossed carelessly around her neck.)

MIRANDA
How many times has this happened to you? You’re in the middle of an emotional scene but you’re completely drained. You have nothing to draw from. Well fret no more because Miranda Queezland is here to help.

DIRK
And can someone get an exterminator in here or something? Seriously! These things are everywhere.

BLACKOUT

New TV Show

I know that as soon as the writer’s strike ends producers are going to be trying to fill their schedules with the next Grey’s Anatomy or BJ and the Bear. I’d like to offer my services to them by sharing this preview of a new medical drama I’m writing. I think it has a lot of potential.

NOTE TO PRODUCERS: You can have this puppy for a song.

The screen is black. Gradually a picture of a golden retriever appears on the screen. Its head is bandaged and there’s a harness, with wheels, on its hind legs. Under the picture the letters S.L.V.H.R.B.H. appear. Dramatic theme music begins as the announcer says:

VOICE OVER
Next week on a very special “St. Luke’s Veterinary Hospital for the Really, Badly Hurt”.

(Carl Maggi rushes through the doors of the Veterinary Hospital with a limp chimpanzee in his arms. The chimp is dressed as a cowboy.)

CARL
I need a doctor over here!

(Dr. Nathan Forrest and Dr. Marty Durbin race to the scene.)

DR. NATHAN
What happened?

CARL
I was getting ready for work when I heard him fall down the stairs.

(Dr. Marty is listening to the chimp’s pulse.)

DR. MARTY
Breathing is shallow. B.P. 90 over 50.

CARL
I think he slipped on a banana peel.

(The chimp begins to weakly make motions with his hands.)

DR. MARTY
Does he know sign language?

CARL
A little. Look, is he going to be all right or what?

DR. NATHAN
What’s his name?

CARL
Mr. Green Jeans.

(Dr. Nathan begins signing to Mr. Green Jeans as they carry him into an operating room. Other vets arrive and begin working on him. Carl tries to follow them into the room but Dr. Nathan stops him.)

NATHAN
I’m sorry, you’re not allowed in here.

(Nathan enters the room. The doors close and Carl stands looking in the window. From the next operating room we hear the unmistakable sound of an EKG monitor flat-lining. We CUT TO another operating room to see a group of vets gathered around the table.)

DR. TONY
We’re losing her!

DR. KATHY
Where’s the damn crash cart?

DR. TONY
Give me room, I’m going to start compressions.

(Everyone backs away to reveal a turtle lying on its back with tubes and wires connected to it. Dr. Tony takes his two index fingers and begins CPR on the turtle.)

DR. TONY
Fight, damn you! Fight!

(As he begins mouth to mouth we CUT TO a larger examining room. A horse stands in the middle of the room covered with a blanket. Dr. Kareem has her arm, up to the elbow, in the horse’s butt. Donald Parker and his son Teddy are watching.)

DR. KAREEM
I think I may have found the cause of the blockage.

(She removes her arm and is holding a Power Ranger action figure. She hands it to Teddy.)

DR. KAREEM
Does this belong to you?

(Teddy grabs it and hugs it.)

TEDDY
Blue Ranger!

(Dr. Kareem smiles and musses Teddy’s hair with her gloved hand.)

DONALD
How many times do I have to tell you? The horse’s ass is not a toy box.

(CUT TO Dr. Drake entering the men’s room. He opens the first stall and Mac, the janitor, is working the bowl with a plunger.)

MAC
Somebody tried to flush another goddamn hamster.

(Dr. Drake moves to the larger, handicapped stall. When he opens the door he sees a family, William, Janet, Becky, and Billy standing in front of the toilet. Billy holds an empty goldfish bowl. William is just finishing up a prayer.)

WILLIAM
In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost. Amen.

(The Family all cross themselves and say Amen and then Billy flushes the toilet.)

BILLY
Will that take Ginny to Heaven, daddy?

WILLIAM
Yes son, it will.

(They all exit the stall and Dr. Drake enters, sits and is getting ready to read the latest issue of “Cat & Kittens” Magazine when he sees Becky looking at him from under the stall.)

BECKY
Is that man’s poop going to heaven too, Daddy?

(CUT TO the nursery. Nurse McMillan enters and sees Dr. Marcus with his back to her holding a large baby bottle. Dr. Marcus’ head is tilted back and he is moaning with pleasure.)

NURSE MCMILLAN
Dr. Marcus?

(Dr. Marcus is startled and drops the bottle. He begins futzing with his pants. He turns to her, very distracted.)

NURSE MCMILLAN
What are you doing?

DR. MARCUS
Julie. I didn’t hear you come in. I…uh…was just feeding little Ophelia here.

(A small lamb wanders around nudging the front of Dr. Marcus’ pants. )

DR. MARCUS
(To Ophelia)
Go away. Shoo.

NURSE MCMILLAN
Oh my God. How could you?

DR. MARCUS
Julie, wait I can explain.

NURSE MCMILLAN
Is that why you always called me Lambchop?

(She slaps him. CUT TO the waiting room to reveal Carl pacing nervously. He spies Dr. Nathan coming towards him with another woman, Darcy Day.)

CARL
Is Mr. Green Jeans going to be all right?

DR. NATHAN
He has a concussion. I think he’s more embarrassed than anything.

DARCY
Mr. Maggi, this is the third time in the past two months that Mr. Green Jeans has taken a tumble down the stairs. Do you want to tell me what’s really going on?

CARL
Who are you?

NATHAN
This is Darcy Day from the Humane Society.

CARL
He’s a clumsy little fellow, that’s all.

DARCY
Mr. Green Jeans told me about your drinking problem.

CARL
He what?

DARCY
Mr. Maggi are you getting drunk and beating that monkey?

CARL
Chimpanzee.

DARCY
Whatever.

CARL
You’re going to believe what a chimp told you? A frickin’ primate? That stupid son of a…

DARCY
I’m placing Mr. Green Jeans in a safe house until we settle this issue.

CARL
What? You can’t do that! He’s my chimp! You have no right…

(Dr. Nathan grabs Carl and slams him against the wall.)

DR. NATHAN
We have every right to look out for the welfare of that monkey.

CARL
Chimpanzee.

DR. NATHAN
People like you make me sick!

(Dr. Marty sees what’s going on.)

DR. MARTY
Dr. Nathan! My office! Now!

(Dr. Marty and Dr. Nathan go into an examining room and Dr. Marty snaps the curtain closed.)

DR. MARTY
You’re a loose cannon.

DR. NATHAN
He was spanking his monkey!

CARL (From outside the curtain)
It’s a chimpanzee!

DR. MARTY
That’s enough! It’s clear to me you can’t keep your emotions in check.

DR. NATHAN
At least I have emotions.

DR. MARTY
I don’t love you, Nathan, I’m sorry but that’s just the way it is.

DR. NATHAN
You may believe those lies you tell yourself, but I know they’re nothing more than Level 2 horse waste.

DR. MARTY
I’m transferring you. Effective immediately!

DR. NATHAN
What? You can’t do this!

(An alarm goes off. Dr. Tony comes rushing in.)

DR. TONY
Code blue! Code blue!

DR. MARTY
What’s going on?

DR. TONY
Dispatch just called. A cattle truck rolled over on its way to the State Fair. Collided with a bus full of 4-H girls. We’re getting some of the worst case cows. The first chopper should be here any second. Would you believe, some son of a bitch state trooper wanted to know if he could have the steaks from the ones that don’t make it.

DR. NATHAN
Not on my shift!
(To Dr. Marty)
That is, if it’s still my shift, Dr. Marty.

(Dr. Nathan and Dr.
Marty stare intensely at each other.)

VOICE OVER
Don’t miss the one episode of “St. Luke’s Veterinary Hospital for the Really, Badly Hurt” that TV Guide says “This is the one episode of “St. Luke’s Veterinary Hospital for the Really, Badly Hurt” not to miss”.