Author: krobertson

  • FSW: Bailout

    I’ve been threatening to do it for a while, and whaddya know, this week I finally did it – a sketch with a musical number. I chose the theme of Bailout last week – can’t imagine why! And I’m posting late (geez lyrics take a while to write). But, since we seem to have a lot in common with the 30’s, I couldn’t help but add in my little homage to the golden age of musicals.

    Nothing yet from Michael or Richard – Michael may be taking a break (and he will be sorely missed), but I’ll update as combatants report to the field. Honors for theme-picking go to Richard next week…let’s see, we’ve had Apocalpse and Bailout….I bet he picks something like puppies 🙂

    UPDATED: After being away from the wonder-box Friday night and Saturday, I returned this morning to a great sketch from Richard, and a surprise entry from Michael (woooohoooo!!!). Richard gave us a taste of old Broadway too (I guess it isn’t a coincidence that the Golden Age of Broadway started during the great depression – finanacial chaos apparently inspires showtunes 🙂 and Michael, who’s taking a break from all-things internet, guest stars on Richard’s blog with insurance to get you through the tough times.

    Richard also set the theme for next week’s sketch war: Best Friends!
    _________________________________________________________________

    EXT. EMPRIRE STATE BUILDING OBSERVATION DECK – DAY
    A few people are milling about, but there’s not a lot of traffic. MR. THOMPKINS, a tour guide \ guard is there resplendent in his perfectly pressed navy blue uniform, brass rimmed spectacles, and immaculately groomed grey mustache over a beaming smile. The elevator dings and the doors open. CHARLIE and DAISY step out into the sun. Both are in their late 20’s, clean cut, innocent, bright eyed, almost stereotypically Midwestern, and very obviously tourists. Both have an air of bittersweet sadness about them. They step out into the sunshine on the deck.

    DAISY
    Oh Charlie, it really is magnificent. Just like everyone says.

    CHARLIE
    Staggering view.

    DAISY
    C’mon honey bun. Let’s just pretend everything is okay for a little bit. After all, this may be the last vacation we take for a very very long time.

    CHARLIE hugs DAISY

    CHARLIE
    You’re right, my little ray of sunshine. Say, let’s go peek over the edge and see how far we can see.

    They walk over to the edge of the observation deck, looking through the large fence around it.

    CHARLIE (CONT)
    Wow…the city looks so peaceful from up here, as if it were filled with nothing but nice considerate people who would never think of trashing an entire free market economy just for a couple of high-priced hookers and a custom Bentley.

    DAISY
    Now lamb chop….

    CHARLIE
    I’m sorry Daisy. Just slipped out. I’ll try and look on the bright side of things. Say…do you think that’s New Jersey over there?

    DAISY
    I think it is Charlie. Nice, respectable, kindly New Jersey, filled with kindly, respectable people, like loan sharks and mob bosses, the kind of people who only break the knees of people who have wronged them, and then only one at a time.

    DAISY starts sobbing, and CHARLIE wraps her up in his arms

    CHARLIE
    There there, my darling…

    MR. THOMPKINS strolls over to CHARLIE and DAISY, concerned

    MR. THOMPKINS
    ‘Scuse me folks, but I couldn’t help but notice you aren’t exactly thrilled by our view here.

    CHARLIE
    Sorry Mister…..

    MR. THOMPKINS
    Thompkins, William Thompkins, but call me Billy – all my friends do.

    CHARLIE
    Sorry Billy. My wife Daisy and I are just in a bit of a rough patch, with the economy being so rocky and all. We have a lot of bills…

    DAISY
    And some big credit card debts…

    CHARLIE
    And a big house back in Iowa that’s lost almost half it’s value…

    DAISY
    Not to mention a whole bunch of stocks that aren’t worth dick anymore.

    CHARLIE
    Fact is, Billy, we only came on this trip to New York because we already paid for it a while back, when times were good, and with this economy, we won’t be going anywhere more exciting than Dubuque for a long time.

    DAISY
    Dubuque!!!

    DAISY starts crying loudly again

    MR. THOMPKINS
    Awwww, you poor kids. No wonder you look so down in the mouth. Come on over here and have a seat. Take a load off

    He leads them to a bench by the wall around the deck. He pulls a box of animal crackers out of his pocket.

    MR. THOMPKINS (CONT)
    Animal Cracker? I keep a box in my coat ‘cause they always make life feel a little simpler…like those care free days when I was a boy.

    DAISY and CHARLIE both reach in a grab a cookie out of the box. They crunch them and start to smile a little

    MR. THOMPKINS
    There…now that’s better, isn’t it?

    DAISY and CHARLIE smile weakly and nod yes

    MR. THOMPKINS
    You know, me and Mrs. Thompkins went through some rough times when were about your age. Not as rough as these, but not too far off. Heck, we thought we were all set for a nice cozy retirement. Boy were we wrong. That’s why Mrs. Thompkins is on the street 4 days a week selling black tar heroin. Say, neither of you kids is a hopelessly addicted smack-head, are you? Mrs. Thompkins is looking for new business.

    DAISY
    Sorry Billy.

    MR. THOMPKINS
    Oh well, never hurts to ask. Me…well, I knew there was just one place for me, and that was right here, working security atop this grand old lady.

    DAISY
    Why is that Mr. Thomp…

    MR. THOMPKINS shoots her a playful disapproving look

    DAISY (CONT)
    I mean “Billy”

    MR. THOMPKINS smiles

    MR. THOMPKINS
    Because this is a magical place Daisy, where people come to see more than just the view – it’s a place where people see their past, their future, and see things in perspective. This is a a place where you can do things you can’t do anywhere else in the world. Let me put it this way…

    The music starts and soon MR THOMPKINS is singing a nice 1930’s musical number

    MR. THOMPKINS (CONT)
    (singing)
    When a panoramic view
    Just serves to make you blue
    And what used to make you happy makes you weep
    There’s a way that I have found
    To make a smile out of that frown
    Just make douchebag broker take a flying leap

    MR THOMPKINS starts talking again, the music plays on in the background

    MR. THOMPKINS (CONT)
    Here, let me show you…

    MR. THOMPKINS goes over to the fence, pushes a section aside so it no longer shrouds the ledge and looks down.

    MR. THOMPKINS(CONT)
    Boy, I wish I knew where to invest a few million right now – if only some savvy wall street broker was around to help an old ignorant but wealthy investor with his cash.

    A man, BROKER 1, in an expensive suit, dripping jewelry and carrying an expensive briefcase, come running over.

    BROKER 1
    Hey there….Mike Scabbers, financial genius…sorry about the tan bro, just got back from a big-wig conference in Aruba, I’d love to get you invested in ….

    MR. THOMPKINS pushes a button on the wall, and the railing slides over to reveal a gap. MR. THOMPKINS nods and smiles as he leads BROKER 1 over the to gap, then pushes him through and over the edge. MR. THOMPKINS sighs with a smile, and comes back smiling, and singing again.

    MR. THOMPKINS
    (singing)
    Throw a douchebag off a building
    And see if he can fly
    That greedy jerk put you out of work
    To grab a bigger piece of pie

    Just throw a douchebag off a building
    Give a smug exec the boot
    Watch the smarmy rat make a big ol’ splat
    Without his golden parachute

    The music continues playing

    MR. THOMPKINS
    See kids, a lot of these deal making, super rich, money-flauntin out-of-touch, above the law, guilt-free Wall Street types – the type we New Yorkers like to call “douche bags” – like to come up here and take in the view – kind of makes them feel like the king of world I guess. So there’s always several around to do with as you please. Watch this…

    (looking over the edge of the building)

    Oh look – I wonder whose chauffeur just turned off the engine in that Hummer Limo to save gas?

    BROKER 2 comes running over to the edge to look.

    BROKER 2
    Dammit – I told Lawson to keep circling until I’m ready…..

    BROKER 2 looks over, and MR. THOMPKINS pushes him over the edge

    MR. THOMPKINS
    Ahhhhhhh…there is nothing quite like the feeling of launching a financial douchebag into thin air!

    CHARLIE
    But Billy, isn’t that murder?

    MR. THOMPKINS
    In the old days, when a financial exec caused a mess like this, they had the courtesy to jump off a building under their own steam. We’re just helping them out this time around. Want to try it?

    DAISY
    Gee Billy, I don’t know where to start.

    MR. THOMPKINS
    Well Daisy, you just need to shout out something that would make the average money-grubbing Wall Street douchebag with no conscience come a-runnin’.

    DAISY
    Hey! I think I’ve got just the thing Billy. Let me give it a whirl.

    MR. THOMPKINS ushers DAISY over to the magic section of the wall.

    DAISY
    (shouting)
    Boy, I sure wish I could find a man compensating for a tiny penis with a lot of cash.

    BROKERS 3 and 4 flock over quickly. They look almost identical to BROKERS 1 and 2. They start hitting on DAISY with smarmy lines and telling her what they’ll buy for her. CHARLIE sneaks up behind them pushes them both over the edge. CHARLIE and DAISY look over the edge as they fall.

    CHARLIE
    Hey….that crowd down on the street is actually cheering!

    MR. THOMPKINS
    Of course they are – they’re people just like you!

    DAISY
    (waving at the crowd below)
    You’re welcome, non-wealthy New Yorkers!!!

    A cheer is heard from the street

    CHARLIE
    (singing)
    Throw a douchebag off a building
    For trashing the Dow Jones

    DAISY
    (singing)
    He made stupid bets on risky debts

    DAISY ANDCHARLIE
    (singing)
    And some fucked up subprime loans

    MR. THOMPKINS
    (singing)
    Just throw a douchebag off a building
    Introduce him to gravity

    DAISY
    (singing)
    The greedy lout

    CHARLIE
    (singing)
    Got a big bailout

    CHARLIE, DAISY AND MR. THOMPKINS
    (singing)
    For his financial depravity

    CHARLIE
    Hey! Let me try too!

    CHARLIE goes over to the magic wall section

    CHARLIE
    (shouting)
    Did you hear the bailout includes fraud-investigations for Wall Street executives AND closes all existing tax-loopholes for the ultra-wealthy???

    A whole stream of BROKERS, looking just like the others, screams and runs for the open hole in the fence and jumps out. This goes on for a while – a long stream of well dressed lemmings. A big cheer is heard from the crowd below. MR. THOMPKINS, DAISY and CHARLIE all look at each other and laugh.

    MR. THOMPKINS
    (singing)
    They’ve created a recession
    But don’t let it get you down
    Just make sure the great depression
    Is made by a douchebag hitting the ground

    DAISY
    (singing)
    Throw a douchebag off a building
    For messing up Wall Street

    CHARLIE
    (singing)
    High flying execs
    Caused these big train wrecks
    So they deserve to eat concrete

    (Key change)

    CHARLIE, DAISY AND MR. THOMPKINS
    (singing)
    Just throw a douchebag off a building
    And see if he can fly

    CHARLIE
    (speak-singing)
    Make an asshole plummet at the G7 summit

    DAISY
    (speak-singing)
    He’ll look so super rich in his self-made ditch

    MR. THOMPKINS
    (speak-singing)
    He won’t need net worth when he hits the turf

    CHARLIE, DAISY AND MR. THOMPKINS
    (singing)
    Just throw a douchebag off a building
    And wave those blues bye-bye!!!

    They end with a big finish and the music stops

    CHARLIE
    Wow honey-bunch! I haven’t seen you smile that much in a year!

    DAISY
    I haven’t felt this good in a year, Charlie! And I know one midwestern boy who’s finally going to get lucky when we get back to the hotel!

    CHARLIE
    Well what are we waiting for! Let’s head back right now!

    DAISY
    How can we ever thank you, Billy? We may not be better off financially…

    CHARLIE
    But we sure do feel better screwing over the people who screwed us over!!

    MR. THOMPKINS
    That’s the spirit kids! Just remember, when the going gets tough, the tough find the douchebags responsible and get even with them.

    DAISY AND CHARLIE
    Bye Billy!!!

    MR. THOMPKINS
    Bye bye kids!

    DAISY and CHARLIE wave and exit into the elevator. GUARD 2 walks over to MR. THOMPKINS as he waves back

    GUARD 2
    Do they know that Wall Street douchebags can’t really be killed?

    MR. THOMPKINS
    Why spoil their mood.

    BLACK OUT

  • FSW: The Apocalypse is Coming…from all sides

    Alrighty everyone – it’s been a lllloooonnnnggggg day. 3 hour meetings and late improv workouts do not make for early sketch publishing.
    But at long last, here’s my foray into apolypse-land (our theme as given by Michael last week).
    So far, no sketch entry from the recently emancipated Richard, but Michael (who’s probably wondering if he’s playing alone this week due to my tardiness) gave us a blast from the future \ past.
    I’ll update as needed….which (if memory serves) will include me choosing our next theme (since I think it’s rotated back to me).

    UPDATED: While I was playing a mind-controlling dicator on the planet Berkeley (in an improvised Star Trek show at BATS in San Francisco) Richard played with genetics, and let me know that it is indeed my turn for theme picking.

    So….our theme for next week is: Bailout
    (I just pulled that out at random…no idea where it came from)
    __________________________________________________________
    INT. – LIVING ROOM – DAY
    A nice middle class living room with a big comfy sofa, coffee table, and a large TV – nothing fancy, just an inviting place to relax. STEPHEN enters, talking to his wife offstage

    STEPHEN
    Let me know if you want any help with the dishes honey…I’ll be watching “24”.

    STEPHEN sits on the sofa, picks up the remote control and turns on the TV.

    TV ANNOUNCER (V.O.)
    Wall Street continued it’s free fall today, losing another 300 points on news that existing housing has hit a 25 year low. The dollar dropped sharply again, and crude oil prices are expected to go up as a result.

    The sound of a horse galloping comes from offstage. STEPHEN gets up and goes to the window to see what’s going on. DEATH, wearing a long black robe, with his head covered by a black hood, appears from a cloud of smoke on the opposite side of the room.

    DEATH
    Behold and tremble!!! For, I, Death, herald of the four horsemen, have come on my pale horse, as the seventh trumpet sounds and the seventh seal is opened. Look upon me and despair, for the day of judgement is nigh!!!

    STEPHEN has to process this for several moments.

    STEPHEN
    Is….is that your horse on the lawn?

    DEATH
    Yesssssssssss. The Pale Horse of Death.

    STEPHEN reacts to a sudden bad smell in the air

    STEPHEN
    Ummmm…is that, ummm, smell….well, not to be rude, but is that your breath?

    DEATH
    Yeessssssssssssss

    STEPHEN
    That’s..wow…that’s uhhh, pungent.

    DEATH
    It is the smell of souls burning in the eternal flame of repentance. Souls that will soon be joined by far more, for I am the harbinger of the coming Apocalypse.

    STEPHEN
    Coming…ahhh….umm, when?

    DEATH
    When the Lamb of God, the Son of Man, has opened the seventh seal on the scroll of the covenant.

    STEPHEN
    God?

    DEATH
    He that is the beginning and end, the alpha an omega, maker and destroyer of all things, who gave his only son to purge the sins of this world. I am his horsemen, his herald of the apocalypse.

    STEPHEN
    Ummmm…wow, this is awkward but, we’re not Christian.

    DEATH
    His wrath will be…

    STEPHEN
    Look, I’m sorry to interrupt, but we’re not Christian. I don’t think…

    Another puff of smoke, and a swarthy, muscled, middle-eastern looking man with a long trumpet (literally, not a euphemism) wearing a small white toga appears – ISRAFIL. He blows a long loud blast from his trumpet, then speaks with a middle-eastern accent

    ISRAFIL
    The great battle approaches! True Muslims hear my call and rise up! The Dajall comes with his unholy army of Christians and nonbelievers. Allah commands me, Israfil, his angel, to blow the horn and summon true Muslims to the final battle of judgement and victory.

    ISRAFIL blows his trumpet loud and long.

    STEPHEN
    Look, would you mind not doing that here. My neighbors live really close, and my wife hates loud noises.

    ISRAFIL
    I must summon good Muslims to the final battle of judgement where they will smote the Christians and non-believers before receiving their final reward.

    STEPHEN
    Ooookkkaayyy….look, we’re not Muslims here, so blowing your horn will only summon the cops.

    DEATH
    You shall hear the horns when the seventh trumpet sounds

    STEPHEN
    No, please..one trumpet is plenty – we don’t need seven.

    ISRAFIL
    (to DEATH)
    Who be you? You are shrouded like a woman, but I cannot tell if you be woman or man.

    DEATH
    I am Death, rider of the pale horse, herald…

    STEPHEN gets between DEATH and ISRAFIL, and places his hand over DEATH’S mouth

    STEPHEN
    (to ISRAFIL)
    Don’t get him talking, please.

    STEPHEN checks to see both DEATH and ISRAFIL aren’t going to do anything stupid, then starts speaking to them again.

    STEPHEN
    Look, ummm….guys, Angels, heralds…whatever you are, we’re not Christians or Muslims here. I appreciate the warning, really. But you should find some good Christians, aor good Muslims, people who want to prepare for this Apocalypse thing, who stand to gain something from the Apocalypse. I mean, what can I do? I lose no matter what. I’m gonna get smote or eternally burned right?

    ISRAFIL
    Yes

    DEATH
    Yesssssssssssssssssss

    Both ISRAFIL and STEPHEN react to the smell of DEATH’S breath again.

    STEPHEN
    But neither of you is here to kill me outright, right?

    ISRAFIL
    No

    DEATH
    (breathily)
    Noo..

    STEPHEN cuts DEATH off and puts his hand over DEATH’s mouth

    STEPHEN
    Just…nod

    DEATH shakes his head “no”

    STEPHEN
    Good, so tell people who can benefit from knowing the Apocalypse is coming, cause if I’m the one who finds out first I’m going to feel guilty….

    MAGOG now appears in a cloud of smoke. He has long gray hair with the ringlet curls of a Hacidic Jew, a long gray beard, and speaks with a Yiddish accent

    MAGOG
    Guilt? What know you of guilt? I must attack Israel to start Armageddon, so God can destroy me. What do I know about attacking people? I should just let God win, but no, someone’s a stickler for scripture…

    STEPHEN
    That’s….look I’m sorry to hear that but I’m not Jewish, and I really don’t want to be the one knowing Israel is going to be attacked by some vengeful angel…

    MAGOG
    Angel, Ha! I wish!

    ISRAFIL
    Israel will fall in the final battle of judgment!

    MAGOG
    Listen to Mr. Macho. That’s some attitude for a trumpet-toting diaper wearer.

    DEATH
    All shall perishhhhhhhhhh……

    Everyone reacts to DEATH’S breath

    MAGOG
    You know, if you ate more you wouldn’t have such a sour stomach. Skin and bones, this one….without the skin

    ISRAFIL
    Food shall have little meaning when the battle…

    MAGOG
    Violence is no solution, Mr. Too Much Testosterone

    ISRAFIL
    Jewish dog

    MAGOG
    Sticks and stones

    ISRAFIL
    I shall…

    DEATH raises his head and exhales loud and long. STEPHEN steps in the middle of the room

    STEPHEN
    HEY!!! KNOCK IT OFF!!! Look you guys. Enough, okay? I’m not Christian, I’m not Jewish, I’m not Muslim – I’m an atheist all right? I believe all this Armageddon apocalypse stuff is just bullshit…stuff made up by people to keep other people in line. And even if it IS real, well, then I’m just fucked. Fucked for not being Christian Jew or Muslim, fucked for doing the right thing but not doing it in the name of some organized religion. So warning me does squat – it just scares the crap out of me waiting for you actually destroy the universe, and being helpless to stop it – so either get on with it or shut the hell up!

    ISRAFIL
    But we must Herald the Apocalypse for those true of faith.

    DEATH and MAGOG nod in agreement

    STEPHEN
    Honestly, “those of true faith” are completely fucked too!!! Look, you all have some apocalypse where your followers are saved, right?
    (They all agree)
    Then everyone who believes something other than your faith represent gets fucked, which means NO ONE SURVIVES. Jewish apocalypse, Christians and Muslims are fucked. Christian apocalypse, Muslims and Jews are fucked. You see what I’m saying?

    ODIM now appears in a cloud of smoke, with flowing golden hair, a magnificent golden beard, wearing a Viking helmet and lavish robes like something out a Wagnerian opera. He speaks with a booming voice and Swedish Accent

    ODIN
    The days of Ragnarok are upon us and I, Highfather Odin, have come to Midgard…

    ODIN sees the others, then continues speaking in a higher pictched voice, with a slight lisp.

    ODIN
    Oh my God, you guys are hear too?

    DEATH, MAGOG and ISRAFIL all nod. ODIN looks at Stephen, then whispers to the others.

    ODIN
    He doesn’t look Nordic.

    DEATH, ISARFIL AND MAGOG
    He isn’t!!!

    Everyone looks at each other during a long quiet pause, thinking over what STEPHEN said.

    ODIN
    Did I come at a bad time?

    STEPHEN
    Look guys…I can’t tell you what to do, but why not go back to the Gods who sent you…

    ODIN
    I sent myself…I’m my own god

    STEPHEN
    Fine…Odin go think things over someplace, everyone else go back, talk to your respective gods, and tell them that an apocalypse should wait – it’s not going to help your followers or anyone else, and no one can win, okay?

    ISRAFIL, DEATH, ODIN and MAGOG all sort of mumble and agree. They dejectedly walk towards STEPHEN’s front door, and exit

    MAGOG
    (to DEATH as they exit)
    Look, I know a great deli – you want to grab a bite? Just looking at you is making me hungry.

    ODIN
    (to ISRAFIL as they exit)
    Do you workout? I like to work out, but I can’t wear togas – too cold in Asgard and they make me look so hip-y, but it looks good on you.

    STEPHEN shuts the door behind them, then goes back and sits on the couch to watch TV.

    Lights flash, and smoke billows again. This time, the TERMINIATOR steps out.

    TERMINATOR
    I am a Cyberdyne systems model T100 terminator. I have been sent back in time to proctect you. Come with me if you want to live and stop the Judgment day that brings about my future.

    STEPHEN just stares at the TERMINATOR for a moment. Then stands up.

    STEPHEN
    Honey, I’m going out for a bit – just gotta take care of something.

    STEPHEN and the TERMINATOR exist through his front door.

    BLACK OUT

  • FSW: Job Hunting

    Welcome back to another Friday Sketch War! WOOHOOO!!

    This week, Richard gave us the topic of “Job Hunting”. And even though I know everyone and their brother \ sister \ cross-dressing uncle has written a Sarah Palin sketch, I just couldn’t resist.

    I’ll update links to the other battlers as they come in….

    UPDATED: Richard is doing some heavy recruiting and Michael shows us that there are great jobs out there, even for those wishing they only had a brain. And Michael gave us next weeks theme: Apocalypse. I’m guessing he’s been into the financial reports again 🙂
    ____________________________________________________________________

    INT. – TALK SHOW LIVING ROOM SET – DAY
    Soft jazzy flute music plays and pink and green graphic comes up: “Job Hunting with Sarah Palin”. The graphic fades out to reveal SARAH sitting in a lovely living-room talk-show set, sipping a big mug of coffee.

    SARAH
    Welcome back to “Job Hunting ” everyone. I’m your host of course, Sarah Palin. Today we’re talking about how to get a job in a tough economy. I’m doing this because…

    JOHN (O.S.)
    “We” Sarah

    SARAH
    Thank you John….WE’RE doing this…

    JOHN (O.S.)
    Thank you Sarah

    SARAH
    …because we want every American to feel confident they can get a decent job even in tough times….just in case, you know, things don’t get better any time soon. And if you have those skills, you won’t blame your government for being unemployed, so John and me…

    JOHN (O.S.)
    Thank you

    SARAH
    …can work on important things like banning gay marriage, invading Iran, and blaming things on the Democrats. Now many of you are probably thinking “Sarah, what do you know getting a jobs in a tough market?” Folks, let me tell you something. In Alaska there are 15,472 men for every 3 women, and yet I got elected to two different public offices with only “Third Place Beauty Pageant contestant” and “Sports Reporter” to show for experience. Trust me, I know tough job markets.

    Speaking of experience, did you know that’s the number one thing that keeps people from getting the job they really want – lack of experience? Most people will never apply for a job for which they have absolutely no experience. But I think God has qualified each and every one of us to be whatever we can apply for, and delusions of grandeur are just God’s way of saying “go get ‘em!”

    So I’ve developed…

    JOHN (O.S.)
    WE

    SARAH
    WE’VE developed (thank you John) some unique but tested strategies to land that dream job whether you’re qualified or not.

    First of all, let’s talk interview outfit. Pick something that’s a little conservative, then sexy it up a bit – shorten the skirt a little, leave an extra button on the blouse undone, etc. Think “sexy librarian”. The sexy gets them hot, but the conservative says “no touching”. Just let them try to think about your experience when you’re sitting down and that skirt is riding up. And if you’ve ever been in a beauty pageant, mention that in the interview…a lot. And don’t forget those glasses – a good pair of glasses both enhances and tones down the sexy – they’re just a little accessory miracle.

    Obviously, that last bit of advice is only for the job-hunting women out there. It goes without saying that any man thinking about putting on a skirt is a homosexual, and deserves to burn in hell.

    Now, when you show up to the interview, see if you can bring along an elderly person, preferably a war veteran, or even better an ex-prisoner of war with some sort of lingering torture injury. When you’re with someone like that, interviewers think “wow, this person must be reliable and trustworthy if a feeble old geezer like that is hanging out with them.” At the very least, interviewers will be thinking “how nice that they’re hanging out with the elderly”. So really, you really can’t lose with a senior citizen in tow.

    So now let’s move on to the interview. You’re sitting there, and the interviewer is looking over your resume’.

    Well, there’s your first mistake – NEVER let anyone see your resume’. If they see it, they have hard evidence that you’re unqualified. Instead just say things like “I think my resume’ speaks for itself”, and let them imagine just how great your resume’ must be.

    Now, how do you handle that question we all hate:

    “So, what qualifies you for this position?”

    Wow….that’s A scary one, huh? But here’s a way to answer that question perfectly every time. Remember the word “ONCE” – O…N…C…E. That stands for Old job, new job, cosmetic enhancement. For example, let’s say you’ve been a garbage man and your applying to be the CEO of Sony. When the interviewer says “So what makes you think you could be the CEO of a major multinational company, just say “You know the difference between a garbage man and a Sony CEO? A good hair cut”. Trust me – it doesn’t have to make sense, just say it like it’s completely self evident, then let them figure it out. They’ll just smile and go along with you rather than admit they don’t get what it has to do with anything!

    Ladies, try to use “lipstick” as your that cosmetic enhancement – that reminds them of that conservative sexy look you’ve been cultivating.

    You can also claim “experience by proximity”. They say you’ve never been a CEO of a major corporation. You reply “well I live within 100 miles of dozens of CEO’s – so I’m probably over-qualified”.

    If they keep pushing it, just turn the tables on them . They’ve never been a CEO or they wouldn’t be interviewing you, so they don’t have enough experience to be asking YOU about YOU CEO experience, do they? See how nicely that works?

    Now, as a last resort, if they keep pushing you about experience, just accuse them of being a liberal intellectual elitist who’s completely out of touch with the American public. They may come back and argue with you about this, but you will have successfully taken all focus off your lack of experience. Mission accomplished!

    Well, it looks like we’re out of time for today.

    Thanks for tuning in everyone, and join me…

    JOHN (O.S.)
    US!

    SARAH
    …join US (thank you John) tomorrow when we tell you how to take out the competition by stealing their strategy and taking everything they say about you as a sexist assault. Bye bye now!

  • FSW: Sports Edition

    Thank God its Friday Sketch War!!!

    So I chose the theme for the week – and I went with something to take our minds off politics and failing financial giants….SPORTS!!!

    I’ll update links to the other sketches as combatants enter the arena, but here’s my offering….a tribute to fans of bad NFL teams everywhere (I know your pain :).

    UPDATE: Richard shows us which candidate(s) have game and Michael helped us on a new career path, which shows some serious esp, since Richard has given us “Job Hunting” for next weeks theme.

    P.S. – Congrats to Richard on his upcoming release from hell…I mean 2 week countdown to departure from his current job!!! WOOHOOO!_________________________________________________________________

    INT. – SPORTS BAR – DAY

    Rod, Gary and Frank – 3 middle aged, balding, mustached, overweight men – sit at a table, wearing football jerseys, faces painted in team colors, wearing baseball caps for their favorite team. The table is littered with the remains of beers, hot wings, popcorn, peanuts, and several other paper-covered plastic baskets that contained foods we can only imagine. These are superfans, but now they sit, staring at an unseen television, mouths agape as if they just witnessed the most horrific accident in the history of man in close-up slow motion.

    ROD
    Hol-eeeeee shit.

    GARY
    63 to 2

    ROD
    Hol-eeeeeeee shit.

    FRANK
    How’d we even score 2?

    GARY
    The other team deliberately dropped the ball in their own end zone…

    ROD
    Holeeeeee…

    GARY
    …one of our guys tripped and accidentally fell on it.

    ROD
    shit.

    FRANK
    This is the worst. 4 lousy losing seasons, 3 number one draft picks, and we still get the ever-loving-crap kicked out of us on Monday Night Football.

    ROD
    This team sucks balls.

    GARY
    Big ones

    FRANK
    Big hairy ones

    ROD
    Sweaty and hairy

    GARY
    And dangly….big sweaty hairy dangly loser balls.

    FRANK
    That’s the kind of balls this team sucks.

    ROD
    Goddamn Ball suckers

    GARY
    They can’t get any worse.

    ROD
    Bottom feeding ballsuckers

    FRANK
    We said that last year.

    GARY
    We did?

    FRANK
    And the year before.

    ROD
    Chronic bottom feeding ball suckers

    GARY
    Shit.

    GARY pauses a moment…they sit in silence, depressed, until an idea hits GARY

    GARY (CONT)
    You know what? I’m through.

    FRANK
    Through?

    ROD
    You mean with the wings?

    GARY
    Nah….I’m done being a fan. I will never cheer for this lousy stinkin’ team ever again.

    GARY throws his baseball cap on the table and starts wiping colored makeup off his face

    FRANK
    You gonna switch to some other team?

    GARY
    Fuck that….I mean I’m done, period. End of story. No more football, ever.

    ROD
    Holeeeeee shit!

    GARY
    Think about it…what has football ever given us?

    FRANK
    Heartburn

    ROD
    Depression

    FRANK
    Suffering

    ROD
    And sorrow

    GARY
    Right….and what have you given to football?

    FRANK
    Piles of money

    ROD
    Every Sunday from September to February.

    FRANK
    Those Monday nights too.

    ROD
    My youth

    FRANK
    My waistline

    ROD
    My pre-spastic colon

    GARY
    I lost my first wife because of football.

    ROD
    Yeah?

    GARY
    And my second.

    FRANK
    My wife barely talks to me any more…and we ain’t had sex in two years.

    ROD
    Football?

    FRANK
    Damn straight – she wanted to have sex this time two years ago when a game was on, and I ignored her.

    ROD
    Shit

    FRANK
    So she went and dressed up like a cheerleader, then bounced around doing splits…I got pissed cause she was wearing the wrong colors and blocking the screen.

    ROD
    Shit

    FRANK
    So she leaves, comes back in, butt naked this time, bouncing around doing splits…

    GARY
    And…?

    FRANK
    You guys have seen my wife – naked was not step up. I haven’t watched a game at home since.

    ROD
    Shit

    GARY
    What about you Rod?

    ROD
    What about what?

    FRANK
    Football made any girl trouble for you?

    ROD looks like a deer in the headlights

    ROD
    No…no issues with, um, girls, at all

    GARY
    Look…let’s make a pact….right here, right now, the three of us…NO MORE FOOTBALL

    ROD AND FRANK
    (in unison)
    NO MORE FOOTBALL!!!

    GARY
    We’ll find other things to get exited about

    FRANK
    To dedicate our lives to!

    ROD
    To get fanatical about!

    GARY
    Other reasons to drink beer!

    FRANK
    To eat nachos!

    ROD
    To dress up

    FRANK and GARY look at ROD for a moment, thinking about that one

    GARY
    We’ll talk about other things

    FRANK
    Watch something besides ESPN!

    ROD
    Read other parts of the paper!

    GARY
    We don’t need football to be men, do we?

    ROD AND FRANK
    HELL NO!!!

    GARY
    We’ll be the type of men who lived before football was invented!

    FRANK
    We’ll read books!

    GARY
    Watch plays

    ROD
    Go dancing!

    FRANK
    Debate issues!

    GARY
    Explore shit!

    ROD
    Go dancing!

    GARY
    And never, ever, EVER again will we let some stupid silly game control our emotions, wreck our self esteem

    FRANK
    Make us dress up like idiots

    ROD
    Shout like retarded cavemen

    GARY
    Or dictate our schedules and isolate us in dingy bars. And never again will football come between us and our children…

    FRANK
    Our wives…

    ROD
    Our parents…

    GARY
    A-fucking-men! From now on it’s real conversations about real shit with the people we care about….OR NOTHING!!!

    GARY raises a near empty beer mug, the other follow suit

    GARY
    Gentlemen…..FUCK FOOTBALL!!!

    ROD
    (in unison)
    FUCK FOOTBALL!!!

    They clink glasses and chug down the last swigs of beer in their mugs. They slam the mugs down on the table in triumph. Then, as they look around at each other, they become aware of how quiet it is. Each tries a few times to think of something to say, starts to say something to the others, then thinks about it, and doesn’t say a word. All three look at each other with a growing sadness, frustration and fear.

    GARY finally breaks the silence.

    GARY
    Uhhhh….

    ROD and FRANK hang on for his next word.

    GARY
    Who do we play next week?

    ROD
    New Orleans

    GARY
    Oh hell yeah, we should be able to kick the shit out of them!!!

    Animated excited conversation resumes

    BLACK OUT

  • FSW: Spare Changes

    If I keep this up, the west coast guy is going to get a reputation for consistently being late to post! What can I say – we San Franciscans just get lost in our gay marriages and medical marijuana 🙂

    Speaking of such radical things, this weeks theme (provided by Michael), was “change” . I decided to play with the word change on two levels, as well as working on a more relationship \ character based slice of life scene (with a healthy does of satirical social commentary as well…t least I HOPE that’s how it comes off 🙂

    RICHARD (not Robert…sorry about that Richard….see aformementioned note about medical marijuana) gave us the kind of change we could only get through super-powers (“form of a pig…with lipstick”), and Michael helps us look at the bright side of life (feel free to whistle along, Monty Python fans).

    And….since it appears I’ve been given the honor of picking the topic for next week…

    I was very tempted to pick “lipstick on a pig” as our theme, but I’ll veer away from political inspiration this round.

    Instead, our theme will be (drum roll, please)……..SPORTS
    in honor of this being the time of year when Baseball winds down and footbal ramps up.

    ___________________________________________________________________

    EXT. – COMMUTER TRAIN STATION – DAY

    CHARLIE, a well dressed business man in a suit, stands waiting for the morning train into the city, Wall Street Journal tucked under one arm, sipping a Grande Starbuck’s coffee. A few other well heeled commuters also stand around the platform waiting for their train.

    RAOUL, a ragged homeless-looking black man stumbles up onto the platform. He approaches a few of the commuters panhandling. All of them turn him down, ignore him, or just step away in disgust. Finally, RAOUL approaches CHARLIE.

    RAOUL
    Hey man, can you help a brother out?

    CHARLIE
    Sorry….I Don’t have any change.

    RAOUL
    Change?? I didn’t say shit about change….can’t buy shit with change now days. I asked for some help…but you wanna share some cash I’ll haul off a few dead presidents for you! Ha ha!

    CHARLIE
    I don’t have anything smaller than a twenty.

    RAOUL holds out his hand with a smile, waiting for CHARLIE to hand it over.

    CHARLIE
    I’m not giving you 20 dollars.

    RAOUL
    Tell you what…give me that twenty, and I’ll go get change for you.

    RAOUL holds out his hand and smiles again
    CHARLIE just stares at RAOUL for a moment in disbelief

    CHARLIE
    I forgot….I don’t have any cash on me right now…I didn’t have a chance to go by an ATM last night.

    RAOUL
    You got NO cash on you at all???

    CHARLIE
    Nope

    RAOUL
    Rich lookin’ muthafucka like you?

    CHARLIE
    Zilch

    RAOUL
    Not even single ratty old Benjamin you keep stuffed in your shoe for emergencies?

    CHARLIE
    Not a single bill.

    RAOUL
    So how’d you pay for that coffee?

    CHARLIE
    Starbuck’s card.

    RAOUL looks frustrated, and starts to go, then turns back.

    RAOUL
    Train fare?

    CHARLIE
    Commuter card.

    RAOUL
    Shit

    Starts to leave again….but gets an idea for one last go

    RAOUL
    How you buyin’ your lunch?

    CHARLIE
    Debit-ATM card.

    RAOUL
    Goddamn plastic cards everywhere man – no wonder the planet’s fucked.

    CHARLIE
    Excuse me.

    RAOUL
    Planet-fucking asshole.

    CHARLIE
    You have no right to pass any judgment on me, my stinky little friend!

    RAOUL
    I have every damn right man! You middle class money-sluts fuck up everything you touch. I’m out here living the utopian ideal.

    CHARLIE
    Oh please!

    RAOUL
    Man, dig this – I don’t commute, so I don’t pollute. I eat what other people were going to throw away. I wear what others are done wearing.

    CHARLIE
    And you smell like a baboon.

    RAOUL
    I don’t fuckin’ shower man…I don’t waste no water!!! I live wherever I want, under whatever I find, no house made from no cut-down forest, don’t use no electricity generated from no fossil fuels, don’t use no air conditioning leaking toxic chemicals….

    CHARLIE
    You pay no property taxes so you do nothing to help the community. You pay no income tax, so you do nothing to help clean up the environment or get homeless people off the streets. You consume no fuel, so you create no profit for companies developing alternative energy sources…

    RAOUL
    Blah-dy blah-dy blah-dy blah-dy blah-dy blah. You’re just scramblin’ your ass off to fix what you fucked up. I’m not fucking nothing up to begin with, so it ain’t my job to pay for fixin’ it.

    CHARLIE
    Give me a break. You’re just making excuses for being a worthless drain on society.

    RAOUL
    And you’re living your entire life in denial, trying to buy off your guilt for messing things up.

    CHARLIE
    I have nothing to feel guilty about. I live a good environmentally conscientious Christians lifestyle.

    RAOUL
    Man, you’re a middle class white guy….every last bit of shit in the world is your fucking fault! Racism, sexism, holy wars, genocide, diabetes, heart disease, Michael Bolton, keeping “Two and a Half Men” at the top of the Nielsen ratings….ALL YOUR FUCKING FAULT!!

    CHARLIE
    Look, you’re getting a little loud, let’s calm down…

    RAOUL
    Oh….the homeless black man is getting a little too uppity for the nice white man…overstepping his station in life…

    CHARLIE
    (Looking around the platform)
    People are starting to stare…let’s just tone this down.

    RAOUL
    You can’t even look at me, can you….you look at me and all you see is guilt…guilt for sucking up money that could be distributed amongst everyone in society instead of being hoovered up by the elitist white minority to upgrade their iPhones.

    CHARLIE
    I have
    n’t upgraded, I’m waiting for them to fix the 3G issues….

    RAOUL
    When you look at me, you see thousands of years of oppression, of your kind screwing over people that didn’t look like you, didn’t pray like you, or just plain got a bit too uppity for you

    CHARLIE
    Quiet down friend…people are starting to stare.

    RAOUL
    Man, I ain’t you’re god damn friend! I am your goddamn stepping stool!!

    CHARLIE
    Look, pal…

    RAOUL
    I’m a man…respect me and call me by the name my mama gave me!!!

    CHARLIE
    You haven’t told me your name!!!

    RAOUL
    That’s your own goddamn fault!

    CHARLIE
    (noticing people staring)
    Just, please…quiet down….you’re making a scene.

    RAOUL
    Ohhhhhh….I see how it is. Big bad money-making white dude can’t handle a helpless little homeless man. Mr. middle-class gettin’ all embarrassed that other white folks see him crumble in the face of the ugly truth.

    CHARLIE
    I’m….I feel no guilt…it’s my fault you’re homeless….it’s your choices that have..

    RAOUL
    (to the crowd)
    THAT’S RIGHT PEOPLE….MR. WALL STREET FUCKING-JOURNAL HERE CAN’T HANDLE ONE DOWN ON HIS LUCK BLACK MAN!!! MR. MONEY BAGS WOULD RATHER SPEND HIS WHOLE LIFE SHOVELING MONEY INTO A CORRUPT SYSTEM…A SYSTEM THAT HIDES PEOPLE IN SHELTERS!!! HE WANTS A WORLD WHERE HIS VIEW ISN’T CLUTTERED WITH POOR PEOPLE SO HE CAN DRINK HIS LATTE IN PEACE!!!

    CHARLIE
    Oh God….

    RAOUL
    HE WANTS SOME CORPORATE MEGAPOWER TO FIGURE OUT HOW TO MAKE POOR BLACK PEOPLE INTO CLEAN BURNING FUEL FOR HIS GODDAMN LEXUS!!!

    CHARLIE
    I never said that…I…

    RAOUL
    I COULD BE THE SECOND GODDAMN COMING OF JESUS-FUCKING-CHRIST, BUT AS LONG AS I’M A POOR BLACK MAN THIS RICH FUCKER HERE WOULD TURN JEW BEFORE HE GAVE ME A SINGLE DOLLAR!!!

    CHARLIE
    Look…I just remembered I keep some money in my briefcase…here’s a ten.

    RAOUL
    I ain’t takin’ that.

    CHARLIE
    What?

    RAOUL
    I ain’t takin your goddamn dirty money. I will not be pulled out of Utopia by your hush-money, Satan.

    CHARLIE
    But this all started with…

    RAOUL
    (for the benefit of other commuters)
    I DO NOT WANT YOUR GOD DAMN GUILT MONEY, WHITE DEVIL!!! YOU CAN’T BUY YOUR CONSCIENCE BACK FROM ME, OPPRESSOR!!!

    CHARLIE
    Look….here’s a twenty….you said you’d take a twenty earlier, right?

    RAOUL
    (again performing)
    RICH WHITE MAN BUYS CONSCIENCE FROM POOR NIGGER FOR TWENTY BUCKS…FILM AT ELEVEN!!!

    CHARLIE
    Oh dear God…look, here’s a hundred and fifteen dollars, and my Starbuck’s card…there’s still thirty-five dollars on it…all yours if you’ll just stop this…please!!!

    RAOUL thinks it over

    RAOUL
    Can you get them breakfast sandwiches with that card?

    CHARLIE
    Yes…it’s Good for anything in the place

    RAOUL
    Whole bean coffee?

    CHARLIE
    Yes…everything

    RAOUL thinks it over even more

    RAOUL
    Alright…I accept your guilt money, and your environment-destroying cash card to the white supremacist coffee empire, in the name of restoring peace to my Utopia.

    CHARLIE
    Thank you.

    RAOUL
    I can see you feel real regret, and have rethought your place in the world.

    CHARLIE
    You have no idea.

    RAOUL
    This doesn’t absolve you from your crimes or relieve you of your guilt.

    CHARLIE
    I know.

    RAOUL
    Alright. You’ve got a a good heart under that oppressor’s skin.

    CHARLIE
    Thank you. And I’m truly sorry for everything my people have ever done to yours…I’ll spend the rest of my life being unbelievably aware of that, and trying to find a way to make it right.

    RAOUL walks off stage. CHARLIE closes up his briefcase, relived that it’s all over.

    RAOUL suddenly darts back on stage and over to CHARLIE

    RAOUL
    Say, you gonna be back for the morning commute tomorrow?

    BLACK OUT

  • FSW: Putting the fun in Funeral

    Ahhh Friday, and the hills are alive with the sound of sketches!

    I’m a little tardy posting today – I’ve been off work this week, so I’ve been slacking on everything!

    The topic this week was funerals, and I have to admit, for the first half of the week, I was really stuck – all I could picture was the famous Bill Braskey funeral sketch written by Adam McKay and Will Ferrel for Saturday Night Live a few years back. Every sketch idea I had seemed to be a variation on that. But once I was able to get past that, some nice ideas started breaking, and in the end it came down to a Bill Brasky variation, a Viking funeral sketch, or this, which is more filmic commercial parody and less character driven (which is a fancy way of saying “this is pure unadulterated silliness with lots of visual gags”). But it’s definitely different from what I usually tend towards writing, and ended up being dialogue light (“show, don’t tell” is something I try to work towards more and more with sketches).

    Well, enough of my rambling….Michael let us sit in on a funeral WITH the deceased watching and Robert whacked a super-villain’s lackey.

    And here’s my funeral offering for the week….next week’s theme is “Change”.

    ___________________________________________________________

    INT. – FUNERAL PARLOUR
    An austere but reverent viewing room. An open casket surrounded by flowers is at the front of the room and a line of mourners file by paying their respects

    ANNOUNCER (V.O.)
    It’s never easy to lose a loved one….

    The widow stands over the casket with 2 sons flanking either side, all looking down into the casket and shaking their heads slowly. The camera moves in closer to the casket

    ANNOUNCER (V.O.)
    But that doesn’t mean it can’t be fun!

    The camera pans down into the casket to show the deceased packed in ice set with cold bottles of bear. Against the corpse’s chest is a small flat screen TV showing an NFL game, held between the deceased’s hands. Tortilla chips inset with bowls of salsa and nacho cheese ring the deceased’s head.

    CUT TO:

    EXT. – P.T. BUCKETKICKERS FUNERAL PARLOUR – DAY

    The place looks somber from the outside, except for the TGI Friday’s style sign and red \ white striped awnings

    ANNOUNCER (V.O.)
    At P.T. Bucketkicker’s Funeral Parlour we create the kind of funerals that people look forward to! Want to turn those tears of loss in tears of laughter? Try our “Jack in the Casket”

    CUT TO:

    INT. – FUNERAL PARLOUR
    An elderly couple walks up to view the casket. A “SPROING” sound is heard and the corpse immediately sits upright in the casket. The elderly woman laughs, the elderly man clutches his chest and falls to the floor.

    On the screen, a disclaimer is superimposed:
    “Jack in a Casket option must be selected prior to rigor mortis”

    ANNOUNCER (V.O.)
    Saying goodbye makes wake attendees more aware their own days are coming to end. You can make them feel like a kid again with Wakey – our funereal clown!

    CUT TO:

    INT. – FUNERAL PARLOUR
    Another wake, people sit in front of an open casket while others file past to pay their respects. WAKEY is also in line mocking the other mourners with exaggerated wiping of tears and other mimed gestures. WAKEY is a traditional party clown with white face, big orange hair, red nose, etc, except his jumpsuit and shoes are black and white, like a clown tuxedo, and he has crosses attached to each shoulder.

    WAKEY makes a big “shush” gesture to the sitting mourners, and as standing mourner leans in over the body, WAKEY pulls out an oversized box with a big red button. When the standing mourner is looking into the casket, WAKEY pushes the button, and an arm pops up from the casket hitting the standing mourner square in the face with a pie. WAKEY mimes laughing as the pie-dripping mourner stands bakc upright. As the pie-smacked mourner turns to look at WAKEY, a powerful stream of seltzer sprays from the coffin hitting the him right in the face.

    ANNOUNCER (V.O.)
    Speaking of kids, don’t you hate bringing them to funerals? P.T. Bucketkicker’s is the only funeral parlor in the tri-state area with a state-of-the-art video game arcade AND bowling alley.

    CUT TO:

    INT. – FUNERAL PARLOUR
    Another funeral wake, mourners sit respectfully as BRUCE stands before them. The sounds of bowling can be head loudly as BRUCE starts to speak

    BRUCE
    I’d like to thank you all for coming. I know my mother would have been touched that all of you are here for her.

    The “whoo-whoo-whoo” sound of PAC-MAN hitting a ghost is heard.

    ANNOUNCER (V.O.)
    Losing a spouse is especially hard. You haven’t been to a party alone in years. So why should you go to a funeral alone? P.T. Bucketkicker’s can provide you with a funereal escort so you don’t have to face this all alone.

    CUT TO:

    INT. – FUNERAL PARLOUR HALLWAY
    A man holds a door open as mourners file into a viewing room. The widow walks in on the arm of a topless rippled Chippendale’s dancer, complete with black spandex pants and fake white wrist cuffs. She pauses, turns and waves behind her to an elderly man entering another view room. The elderly man is in a wheel chair, very frail looking, wearing an oxygen mask attached to a bottle on his chair. The elderly man is wheeled in by a stiletto-heeled-boot wearing, leather bustier, leather shorts and fishnet clad Pussycat Doll. The elderly man smiles, and gives a thumbs up and we hear a deep pull on that oxygen.

    ANNOUNCER (V.O.)
    Speaking of spouses, you began your married life with that romantic first dance. Shouldn’t you have a last dance to say goodbye? At P.T. Bucketkicker’s, we can make that happen.

    CUT TO:

    INT. – FUNERAL PARLOUR
    Chairs have line the sides and a big area is cleared in the middle of the view room. The lights go down except for a spotlight in the center. The widow steps into the light and “I’ve Had the Time of My Life” starts playing. The deceased is wheeled in by a well-dressed funeral director on a hand truck, upright, with arms splayed in waltz position like a mannequin. The widow steps in an arranges herself so the deceased’s arms hit in the right places, which takes some time. The funeral director puts his arms under the deceased’s to help. They finally start dancing, awkward
    ly, with the funeral director wheeling the deceased around, and the widow doing her best to keep up.

    ANNOUNCER (V.O.)
    Don’t you hate those people at the eulogy who try to make the deceased sound like a saint just because they’re dead? Let them try that with our eulogy lie detector.

    CUT TO:

    INT. – CHURCH – DAY
    Mourners sit in the church as CHARLIE stands up at the pulpit. He stands under a wooden frame, like an airport metal detector, with a large red and a green light at the top of the frame

    CHARLIE
    Dan was a giving man, a loving father, and a devoted husband

    A loud BUZZ sounds, and the red light lights up. Charlie and The congregated mourners burst into laughter

    CHARLIE (CONT)
    Oh geez…alright…let’s face it, Dan loved his underage hookers! He lived life like a penicillin tycoon on a Bangkok shore leave!

    The green light lights up as a bell sounds, everyone laughs, except the widow who looks surprised and appalled, and starts crying even harder.

    ANNOUNCER (V.O.)
    Finding it hard to say that final goodbye? With the Pop-up Pit, you won’t have to!

    CUT TO:

    EXT. – CEMETARY – DAY
    All of the mourners stand grave-side as the casket is lowered into the earth. The mourners turn to leave, weeping loudly, and the casket is launched up out of the hole and lands on the ground next to the pit.

    CUT TO:

    EXT. – P.T. BUCKETKICKERS FUNERAL PARLOR – DAY

    ANNOUNCER (V.O.)
    With so many options, you can customize your funeral to suit YOUR kind of fun!

    A list of options starts scrolling up the screen:
    CELEBRITY ENDORSEMENT NOVELY WREATHS
    PARTY HUMMER-HEARSE (WITH HOT TUB)
    “WHOOPEE” CASKETS
    GLOW-IN-THE-DARK EMBALMING FLUID
    OUR PROFESSIONAL SLAPSTICK PALLBEARING TEAM – “THE PALLIES!”
    EXOTIC DANCERS FOR ALL FAITHS AND DENOMINATIONS
    STAND-UP PRIESTS (FROM LAS VEGAS)

    ANNOUNCER (V.O.)
    So if you’ve got someone to bury why not bring them on down to P.T. Bucketkicker’s…where we put the FUN back in Funeral!

    The camera pans over slightly so the marquee sign in front of the Funeral Parlor can be seen. On the sign:
    “Lenderman viewing: Mon 3-7
    Ladies Night: Weds 7-Midnight”

    FADE OUT

  • FSW: Green Witches

    Well….here’s my second salvo in the fabulous Friday Sketch Wars. This time, I decided to get medieval on someone’s ass! (might have something to do with the fact I’m in an Improvised Shakespeare show Friday night, and an improviosed Tarantino show Saturday night).
    Anyway….our theme this week was “Gatherings” – I’ll update links as soon as the other combatants report in!
    ____________________________________________________________________________________

    EXT. – A CLEARING IN A CREEPY FOREST – NIGHT
    Lightning and thunder above, a big cauldron sits in the clearing, wolves howl, unseen critters scamper past in the dark, the sound of bat-wings flapping overhead, and only a thin shaft of moonlight reveals anything more than the black silhouettes of twisted ancient trees.

    HILDA, and old scraggly woman with a crooked nose, long straggly gray hair, slightly green skin, huge hair warts om her face, gnarled hands, wearing a long tattered ratty black dress and pointy black hat, enters from out of the woods with the use of a gnarled wooden stick as a cane. She is carrying a burlap sack filled with stuff.

    HILDA
    The creatures of darkness stir and cry out for mischief! The skies blacken and split…the time for evil has come!

    HILDA waves her hands at the cauldron and a fire bursts out under it. Steam also starts rising from whatever is in the cauldron

    HILDA
    Come forth my sisters and join me now! Bring forth your gifts and place them in our cauldron – let now our machinations begin!

    HELGA who looks like a variation on HILDA comes out of the woods, carrying a similar sack.

    HELGA
    Run cold blood, and good cheer flee
    When joined in mischief, we sisters three!

    HARPA now enters from the woods, the third sister, with another sack

    HARPA
    By raven’s caw, and toadlet’s croak,
    Mother night our dark deeds cloak

    HILDA
    To our labors bend your mind,
    A poor souls fate we must unwind

    All three gather around the cauldron and pull items from their sacks

    HELGA
    The fingers of a baby abandoned to die

    HELGA dumps them in the cauldron, and a puff of steam belches out of the cauldron

    HILDA
    Festering meat from a possum’s thigh

    HILDA dumps it in – another belch

    HARPA
    Nightshade planted on Hallow’s eve

    Dump…belch

    HELGA
    The tears of a widow, shed as she grieved

    Dump…belch

    HILDA
    Fang of an adder that struck a priest

    Dump…belch

    HARPA
    Organically farmed wormwood brought from the east.

    HILDA and HELGA look at each other upon hearing this.

    HARPA starts to dump it in….HILDA stops her hand with her cane-stick

    HILDA
    Wait….what didst thou say?

    HARPA
    Ummmm…..organically farmed wormwood brought from the east.

    HILDA
    Why not regular old wormwood?

    HELGA
    From the east?

    HARPA
    This tis much better….for twas grown without pesticides or chemicals. So tis better for the environment, and healthier to eat.

    HILDA
    Wormwood is a poison…eating it doth kill a man in minutes.

    HARPA
    All the more reason to go organic….why wouldst one want more toxins in something already so lethal?

    HILDA
    Enough of this. I didst agree when you wanted to use only free-range newt in our potions….

    HELGA
    And when thou didst say the cauldron should only be lit after 7pm on hot days to reduce airborne pollutants…

    HILDA
    AND when thou didst say we needed to stop making the gingerbread houses we use to entrap children out of refined sugar, and use the raw brown stuff instead…

    HELGA
    Looks like bad stucco.

    HILDA
    But this is beyond all measure of reason.

    HARPA
    Good Hilda, we must consider said things….we doth live in the woods and useth the plants of the earth for all our work….we shouldst be the first to consider about what servers environment and the people the best.

    HELGA

    I miss serving people, especially to other people.

    HILDA glares at HELGA, who smiles and quietly slinks back behind HILDA

    HILDA
    Harpa, I hat a business to run here. People doth pay us to put curses upon their enemies, to make people fall in love with them, or foretell their futures. They carest not if the person we turn into a frog for them gets cancer

    HARPA
    Hath they said that to you?

    HELGA
    Frog cancer tis so sad

    HILDA
    They doth not NEED to say it! People do not have other people turned into frogs because they wisheth them health and happiness!!!

    HELGA
    Yeah, but frog cancer tis sooooooo sad

    HILDA smacks HELGA in the head

    HILDA
    Who’s side art thou on???

    HARPA
    I know it doth cost more but…

    HILDA
    Costs? What dost thou mean, cost? What didst thou pay for that?

    HARPA
    Twas just a little bit more than….

    HILDA
    WHAT DIDST THOU PAY FOR IT?

    HARPA
    Three dracmas.

    HILDA fumes

    HARPA (CONT)
    Tis not too bad

    HILDA
    Regular wormwood is free!!! Thou mayst go and pick it up off the ground! It doth grow wild in the forest!

    HARPA
    True but who doth know what it hath been treated with, or what sort of pesticides are on it.

    HILDA
    Tis free!!! It could be buried in pig poop, and WE WOULD NOT CARE!!! We put it in a boiling cauldron and make potions with it! POTIONS THAT DO EVIL THINGS TO PEOPLE!!!!

    HARPA
    Surely thou wouldst not want a potion to taste like pig poop?

    HILDA
    WHY NOT? TIS AN EVIL POTION!!!! GIVEN TO SOMEONE THAT SOMEONE ELSE DOESN’T LIKE TO SOMETHING EVIL TO THEM!!! WHY SHOULDN’T IT NOT TASTE EVIL???

    HELGA
    Pig poop dot
    h taste more nasty than it doth taste evil.

    HILDA
    THOU ART AN IDIOT!!!

    Everyone pauses a moment….catching their breath. HARPA finally breaks the silence, resigned

    HARPA
    Fine….no more shall I bring organic ingredients for potion-making.

    HILDA
    Good

    HARPA
    I shalt stop suggesting uses for the rest of the lizard after we use it’s tongue for curses.

    HILDA
    Thank you

    HARPA
    And never more shall I bring up all the reasons we shouldst fly hemp-brooms instead of straw-brooms ever again, even though straw tis a resource intensive crop and has to be shipped in from…

    HILDA
    KNOCKST IT OFF!

    HARPA
    Sorry…old habit

    HILDA
    Darest not let it happen again. Now, mayst we finish this potion and go home?

    HARPA isn’t happy, but recovers herself and goes back to the cauldron

    HARPA
    Wormwood, that may or may not be organic, brought from the east

    Dump….belch

    HILDA
    Wing of bat that has freshly fed

    HELGA
    Rust from the axe that takes men’s heads….

    A knight, SIR ELDRIDGE, enters carrying a torch in one hand an a sword in the other wearing chain mail, a helmet, and a tunic with a royal looking crest on it

    SIR ELDRIDGE
    Halt Hags! Stay where thou art, and movest not!!!

    The sisters all freeze, scared of SIR ELDRIDGE

    SIR ELDRIDGE (CONT)
    I am from his Majesty’s Environmental Protection Agency. We hath heard rumors of potions being illegally dumped in these woods. Dost know of such a thing?

    All of the witches respond with “oh no, haven’t heard of anything like that”, “didn’t see anyone dumping”, “how rude”, “the nerve of some people”, etc.

    SIR ELDRIDGE (CONT)
    His Majesty’s fish pond hath been fouled with a frog-making potion that didst smell of pig poop……

    Again the witches respond over the of each other “of how awful”, “how inconsiderate”, etc.)

    SIR ELDRIDGE (CONT)
    Pray tell hags, what manner of potion be this?

    HILDA
    Tis but a generic potion….more like a potion base

    HELGA
    Potion starter

    Sir Eldridge sniffs it

    SIR ELDRIDGE
    Methinks it doth smell vaguely of pig droppings

    HARPA
    Oh no kind sir, you must be mistaken. For this potion doth use only organic ingredients.

    Sir Eldridge considers this for a moment

    SIR ELDRIDGE
    Doth not organic ingredients cost a great deal more?

    HARPA
    Aye, they do, but we feel the result be worth the price, and we doth simply charge those buying potions slightly more.

    SIR ELDRIDGE
    In truth, I’d pay more for an organic potion. Sir Halston didst purchase a common frog-making potion which he gave to his enemy, the Black Knight of Leeds. Turned the Knight into a frog, AND didst give him frog cancer.

    HELGA

    How sad

    SIR ELDRIDGE
    ‘Tis true. Sir Halston didst ends his days wracked with guilt. Pray thee, let me watch thee make thy organic potion.

    HARPA
    Thou art welcome to watch Sir knight, is he not good sisters.

    HELGA and HILDA answer “oh yes”, “sure”, etc. HILDA looks annoyed at HARPA, but has no choice but to go on

    HARPA
    Organically farmed wormwood, brought from the east

    HILDA
    Eye of…..free range…newt

    SIR ELDRIDGE
    Dost thou keep the rest of the newt after using only it’s eye?

    HELGA
    Aye, we make newt bread out of it

    SIR ELDRIDGE
    My mother didst make the most wondrous newt bread in my youth, with walnuts and raisins!

    FADE OUT.

  • Friday Sketch War – No Child Left Behind

    After being a long-time reader (and fan) of the Friday Sketch Wars, I decided to toss my hat into the ring (aka – get my ass in gear and get something written in time to play with the other kids 🙂 ). This weeks theme was “Back to School”.

    UPDATE:
    Richard got us dressed for school, and Michael made sure we got to class – so go check ’em out! And….they even kind enough to invite me to toss down the theme for next week (oh, the pressure).

    Sooooooooo…….in honor of the Democratic National Convention next week, let’s say the theme this week is: Gatherings
    ___________________________________________________________________

    INT. HIGHSCHOOL CLASSROOM – DAY
    Several students are milling about before class, talking to each other, flirting, the class nerd trying to be as invisible as possible….the usual classroom goings-on.

    The school bell rings, the classroom door opens, and in walks the teacher, MR. PHILLIPS

    MR. PHILLIPS
    Everyone settle down, settle down….I know you all have a lot to talk about after spending all summer hanging out together, but it’s learning time now.

    The students grumblingly sit down.

    MR. PHILLIPS (CONT)
    Alright…..welcome to your senior year at William Taft highschool. For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Mr. Phillips, and I will be your homeroom teacher for first semester. You will meet here first thing every morning, I will go over any announcements, hand out any official paperwork, and send you on your merry way. I will also be the first person you talk to if you have any questions or problems, and I will be the person who proctors the many standardized tests now required by the state throughout the year. Are there any questions?

    TIFFANY raises her hand

    MR. PHILLIPS (CONT)
    Yes, Ms. Morelli.

    TIFFANY
    When can we buy yearbooks?

    MR. PHILLIPS
    Year books will be available for pre-purchase at the yearbook office after the new year.

    Another hand goes up – it’s LEILA’s

    MR. PHILLIPS (CONT)
    Yes, Ms. Gray?

    LEILA
    What about student tickets for the football games?

    MR. PHILLIPS
    Student tickets for Taft Golden Wombats’ football games, either for individual games or season tickets, will be available for purchase from your homeroom teacher, in this case myself. This also applies to all other varsity sports throughout the year.

    A hand goes up from one of the boys in the back of the class

    MR. PHILLIPS (CONT)
    Yes Mr., uhhhh, Clarkson is it?

    CHIP
    Yes sir, Chip Clarkson.

    MR. PHILLIPS
    What’s your question Mr. Clarkson?

    CHIP
    I wanted choir this fall, but it’s not on my schedule. Can I get that changed?

    MR. PHILLIPS
    Unfortunately Mr. Clarkson the entire music program has been eliminated due to budget cuts.

    The students break out grumbling amongst themselves

    MR. PHILLIPS (CONT)
    We’ve also lost the drama program…

    More grumbling

    MR. PHILLIPS (CONT)
    home economics….

    More grumbling

    MR. PHILLIPS (CONT)
    …and Field Hockey.

    Not a peep

    MR. PHILLIPS
    The entire national economy is in the crapper right now people, and school budgets are stretched right to the breaking point. State and federal government wants us to focus solely on reading, math and sciences, because the U.S. is behind almost every other industrialized nation in those disciplines. They want regular standardized tests to gauge progress, and our funding will be directly related to how well you kids do on those tests. Low scores on those tests will result in lower funding and more cut programs, possibly even varsity sports.

    A grumble goes up from the entire class

    MR. PHILLIPS (CONT)
    Which reminds me….Mr. Williams, are you here today? Tyson Williams?

    TYSON, one of the cool kids, athletic, stylish, and obviously a heartbreaker, stands up. He’s wearing a athletic letterman jacket and stylish tousled blonde hair, looking like he just walked off the set of Gossip Girl.

    TYSON
    Right here, yo!

    MR. PHILLIPS
    Mr. Williams, you’ve been the captain of the basketball team for the last two years, an all-state wrestling champion, and a star half-back for the Golden Wombats, have you not?

    TYSON
    You left out rock star and pimp of the nation bro!!!

    The class hoots and applauds at TYSON’s brashness. Mr. Phillips looks at Tyson’s record on his desk

    MR. PHILLIPS
    You barely passed your last two years of algebra, and earned a combined score of less than 500 on your practice SAT’s last year, which means you didn’t even spell you name correctly on the test.

    TYSON
    What can I say? I’m naturally gifted! GOLDEN WOMBATS RULE!!!

    While TYSON is talking, Mr. Phillips rings a little bell sitting on his desk. Two men in dark suits with dark sunglasses rush in through the door. Phillip’s points out Tyson, and the two men run over to him. They taser the boy, then pick him up and rush him out of the classroom. This all happens with the speed and precision of a military special forces operation.

    TIFFANY
    Oh my God Mr P! Those men just took Tyson!

    MR. PHILLIPS
    This is just a part of how things are going to be done at William Taft High from now on!

    CHIP
    What? We’re going to be tasered and kidnapped and never seen again?

    MR. PHILLIPS
    On the contrary – Mr. Williams is fine. Look…he’s coming back into the classroom right now.

    A thin small Indian teen, SANJEET, steps into the doorway, wearing Tyson’s letter jacket, which hangs on him, and wearing a blonde wig similar to Tyson’s hair. SANJEET speaks shyly with a heavy Indian accent He tries to speak hip, but has absolutely no clue how.

    MR. PHILLIPS
    There you are Mr. Williams. Welcome back. Please take your seat now that you’ve returned from using the restroom.

    SANJEET
    Thank you Mr. P. What is up my home skillets….I am wicked refreshed now that I my lizard has been successfully drained.

    Everyone stares as SANJEET takes TYSON’s seat

    TIFFANY
    That is NOT Tyson Mr. P.

    CHIP
    It’s some Indian dude!

    MR. PHILLIPS
    WRONG!!! This is the NEW Tyson Williams, former athletic wonder, who, thanks to an epiphany about where his low grades would lead him, has returned from Summer vacation an expert in complex mathematics and theoretical physics.

    SANJEET
    Quarks are my bitches!

    MR. PHILLIPS
    Now, if we can continue….

    TIFFANY
    NO!!! THIS IS SO TOTALLY WRONG!!! WHAT’S HAVE YOU DONE WITH TYSON???

    MR. PHILLIPS
    Ms. Morelli, your reading comprehension scores were embarrassingly low last year, weren’t they?

    TIFFANY
    DO NOT CHANGE THE SUBJECT MR PHILLIPS! I DEMAND TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENED TO TYSON!!!

    MR. PHILLIPS rings a little bell sitting on his desk. TIFFANY falls to the floor as if dragged down below her desk where we cannot see her, and the electric crackle of a taser is heard. After a few seconds an Asian girl, YEI, dressed like Tiffany and wearing a wig identical to Tiffany’s hair, sits back up in Tiffany’s chair. YEI speaks with a Chinese accent, and the same awkwardness as SANJEET

    YEI
    Forgive please, Mr. Phillips. I drop number 2 pencil to floor. Please continue.

    MR. PHILLIPS
    That’s quite alright Ms. Morelli. I’m sure that someone like you, who, at your age has already completed two entire books analyzing the works of Lord Byron, which may or may not have been written in your native language, must be very attached to her number 2 pencils.

    Every student except SANJEET and YEI glance nervously around, afraid to move, but trying to make sure there is no one on the floor around them.

    LEILA gingerly and nervously raises her hand.

    MR. PHILLIPS
    Yes, Ms. Gray?

    LEILA
    Mr. P….I’m not saying that something just happened, in fact I’m sure absolutely nothing just happened, and I defintiely didn’t see anything just happen, and I’d swear to that on a stack of bibles even though my parents have raised me Budhist…but IF something just happened, which it didn’t, why would it have just happened?

    MR. PHILLIPS
    That is a well thought out question Ms. Gray. As I said before, educational funding, which includes my salary and tenure possibilities, is now being determined solely by student scores on standardized tests. A teacher may be fired, have their salary reduced, or be denied tenure simply if their students score too low on those aforementioned tests, whether or not it is the fault of the teacher, the failure of apathetic parents to properly motivate their children, or whether the children in question are simply morons. A teacher will ultimately pay the price for the failure of his or her students, even if the teacher in question was once a member of U.S. Military special forces who still has close friends in covert operations. Does that answer your question Ms. Gray?

    LEILA
    (scared out of her mind and almost stuttering)
    Y…y…y…..yes, Mr. Phillips.

    MR. PHILLIPS
    I think it’s a great shame that there are so many bright ambitious students in poorer countries around the world, who would give anything for the quality education American students take for granted, and that those same foreign students are being denied that opportunity while American students take it for granted and waste it. I wish I could find a way to address that injustice, to provide those motivated hard-working foreign students with a solid education, don’t you Ms. Gray.

    LEILA
    (still scared out of her mind)
    Y…y…y…..yes I do , Mr. Phillips.

    MR. PHILLIPS
    In fact, I very confident that the students in this classroom who have, shall we say, discovered a new dedication to their education, are smart and driven enough to earn merit scholarships from some of the best universities in the world. And I feel certain that the rest of you will be motivated to work harder simply by their example, won’t you class?

    No one says a word. MR. PHILLIPS snaps his fingers and the two men in dark suits step inside the doorway, looking ominous.

    MR. PHILLIPS
    I SAID ‘WON’T WE CLASS’???

    THE ENTIRE CLASS
    (in unison)
    YES MR. PHILLIPS

    MR. PHILLIPS waves the two goons off….they Leave

    MR. PHILLIPS
    Any other questions before we proceed?

    CHIP carefully raises his hand

    MR. PHILLIPS (CONT)
    Mr. Clarkson….what is your question?

    CHIP
    (extremely nervous)
    Mr. Phillips….sir….with all due respect….we live in the in a country where kidnapping and torture of citizens is illegal and a complete violation of our the Constitution. The United States was founded on principals that directly refute such police state tactics.

    MR. PHILLIPS stares at CHIP, then slowly raises his little bell to eye level. MR PHILLIPS rings his bell again. The students on either side of CHIP slide down out of view, and tasering can be heard. Two new students of obvious foreign descent, wearing clothing and wigs that vaguely resembles that of the students they just replaced, pop up as if nothing had happened.

    MR. PHILLIPS
    Mr. Clarkson, your test scores have been exemplary, so I will tolerate your outburst. However, students with borderline test scores will be placed in seats around you at all times. Should you feel the need to deliver a civics speech, those students will suffer to the consequences of your actions and your arrogance. Are we clear Mr. Clarkson?

    CHIP
    Crystal, sir. Thank you sir.

    CHIP sits back down gingerly and quietly. LEILA carefully and slowly raises her hand.

    MR. PHILLIPS
    Another question already Ms. Gray?

    MR. PHILLIPS picks up the bell and holds it for LEILA to see, but doesn’t ring it.

    LEILA
    Sir…ummmm…won’t the parents of the students who have, umm, altered their appearance slightly here today, notice that they look different?

    MR. PHILLIPS
    You’re teenagers Ms. Gray – your parents never see you anyway.
    PRINCIPAL WATERS stands in the doorway and knocks on the frame

    MR. PHILLIPS
    Ah, Principal Waters, please come on in. We were just discussing the standardized test process for this year.

    PRINCIPAL WATERS
    That’s exactly what I came by to discuss. As I understand it, you had several students in your classes last year who scored lower than desired on their state-mandated tests, is that correct.

    MR. PHILLIPS
    Unfortunately it is Principal Waters. However, we were just discussing how everyone in this room has re-dedicated themselves to good study habits and….

    The taser noise is heard again, and MR. PHILLIPS collapses to the floor disappearing behind his desk. A middle eastern man, GABRIEL, stands up wearing the same sweater as MR. PHILLIPS

    PRINCIPAL WATERS
    By the way kids, Mr. Phillips spent the summer in an Israeali kibbutz, where he picked up a slight accent, but earned two PHd’s in 18th century English literature and quantum physics. He also got a quite a tan, but we all agree he bears absolutely no resemblance to any Mossad agent who might be hiding out int the United States, don’t we??

    PRINCIPAL WATERS grabs the bell and holds it up threateningly for all to see

    THE ENTIRE CLASS
    Yes Principal Waters!

    PRINCIPAL WATERS
    Excellent, children! Have a wonderful school year Mr. Phillips!

    GABRIEL
    Go Wombats!

    Fade out