Sketch War

Author: rporter

  • FSW: The Legend of the Fourth

    I decided to go with an Independence Day theme for this one, also challenging Michael to see if he could do the same. We’ll see what he comes up with later, but for now, please enjoy my offering.

    The Legend of the Fourth
    (Stan sits at the edge of his young son Seth’s bed, tucking him in for the night. Sunlight leaks through a break in the window coverings.)

    STAN
    Okay, sport. Sleep tight. Don’t let the bedbugs bite.

    SETH
    Dad, why do I have to go to bed so early tonight?

    STAN
    Well, tiger, this is the scariest night of the year. The night when the walking dead roam the land looking for young boys and girls so they can eat their brains. Tonight is July 4th.

    SETH
    But Jimmy said there were fireworks tonight. His parents are taking him to the lake to watch.

    STAN
    Then Jimmy’s parents mustn’t love him like your mom and I love you, champ. Fireworks aren’t fun and games. We set off fireworks to scare away the monsters. Close your eyes and I’ll tell you the legend of the fourth.

    Tom Jefferson hated the king. When Tom was a boy, he’d written a long letter to the king, telling him how he wanted to become a knight someday so he could hit people over the head with a hammer. But the king never wrote back. So when Tom grew up, he had it in for the king. Problem was, Tom was what they call a dilettante, which is a fancy word for no-good slacker. Like your Uncle Bob.

    He looked everywhere for other people who hated the king. Patrick Henry hated the king because he was greedy. Patrick was always saying to people “give me this or give me that,” but the king never gave Patrick anything. Ben Franklin hated the king because the king didn’t like the electric lights Ben invented. John Adams hated the king because he wanted to be king himself.

    So they worked on a plan to destroy the kingdom.

    First they stole bodies from the cemetery. Then Patrick Henry took all the best parts from the bodies and sewed them together to make a better body. He realized that none of the teeth would fit in the mouth he’d used, so he asked his friend Paul Bunyan to carve some out of wood. They put them in the mouth and used Ben Franklin’s electricity to make it come to life.

    They named him George Washington and he beat the king up until he left. Then he chopped down a cherry tree and made everyone a pie to celebrate. That was the first July 4th in 1776.

    They realized that if they could make George come back to life, maybe Ben Franklin’s electricity could also make them live forever. So later that day they went back to Ben Franklin’s secret lab.

    Patrick Henry was greedy, so he wanted to live forever. He used Ben Franklin’s electricity on himself.

    Ben Franklin wanted to invent more things, like stoves and kites, so he used his electricity on himself.

    John Adams wanted to be king forever, so of course he used Ben Franklin’s electricity on himself.

    But Tom decided he didn’t want to live forever. And that was good, because what none of them knew was that Ben Franklin’s electricity could keep them alive forever, but every year on the same day they’d made themselves live forever, they’d need to eat. If they didn’t eat, the hunger would gnaw away at them and make them feel like they’d been kicked in their boy place.

    The only thing that would make the hunger go away was brains. Brains of little boys and girls.

    The next year on July 4th, Tom saw John Adams in the street trying to catch some children to eat their brains. He said, “John Adams, what are you trying to do to those children?”

    John Adams said, “Why, I’m trying to eat their brains Tom Jefferson!”

    Tom needed to save the children, so he tried to think of a way to scare off John Adams. Then he figured it out. He could use fireworks. “Everyone knows that zombies don’t like loud noise,” thought Tom. “Maybe John Adams is like a zombie now.”

    Tom was right, and the fireworks scared off John Adams. Zombie John Adams.

    And that’s why every year on the fourth of July, the children go to bed early and the grownups set off fireworks. To protect you from Zombie John Adams, Zombie Ben Franklin, and Zombie Patrick Henry.

    (Seth’s face is barely visible, with a deeply traumatized look in his eyes. The whole bed is shaking from his terror.)

    SETH
    What about Zombie George Washington?

    STAN
    Right. Him too. He’s the worst. With those wooden teeth, chewing on the little brains.

    Alright, buckaroo. It’s time to go to sleep.

    (Stan gets up and exits the room. Seth continues to tremble. Outside Seth’s bedroom, Stan’s wife Kerry gives him a long, deep kiss. She’s wrapped in a fluffy robe.)

    KERRY
    How did it go?

    STAN
    Great. He won’t be coming out till morning.

    KERRY
    Okay. Then you’d better hurry and get changed. I don’t want to be late.

    STAN
    What about you?

    (Kerry opens her robe to reveal a latex bustier, stilletto heels, and a garter belt. She picks up a riding crop from a nearby table and gives Stan a healthy whack with it.)

    KERRY
    Our first Sparklers and Spankers party? I’ve been ready for hours.

    BLACKOUT

  • FSW: Witness Protection

    (A gray, grimy interrogation room. One table, two chairs, harsh fluorescents. MARVIN HENDERSON sits nervously opposite DET. JASON DETWILER.)

    MARVIN
    It’s not fair.

    DETWILER
    Life’s not fair, Henderson.

    MARVIN
    I need guarantees.

    DETWILER
    Guarantees? Haven’t you figured out from all of this that there are no guarantees in this life? Or the next?

    MARVIN
    He’ll kill me. You’ve got to protect me.

    DETWILER
    Witness protection? You give us what we need and testify against that sonuvabitch and we’ll talk.

    MARVIN
    I’m just an accountant!

    DETWILER
    And I’m just losing my patience, Henderson. Spill.

    MARVIN
    (Sighs deeply) Okay. At first, I just thought it was an error in the numbers. Doesn’t happen much, I make sure of that, but once in a while a mistake creeps in and sticks around. So I started tracking it back. It took me a while – he’s got books going back forever – but once I found it, things started falling into place.

    DETWILER
    Found what? Spell it out.

    MARVIN
    I should have realized. 144K isn’t that much. I mean, there’s billions of people, right? Why only 144,000? Why is that his magic number?

    DETWILER
    You tell me.

    MARVIN
    Timeshares.

    DETWILER
    What?

    MARVIN
    It’s timeshares. He bought up some swampland in the Everglades and drained it, put in condos, a little town, a man-made lake. A whole, self-contained little community. 2000 units, some one bedroom, some two. Week-long shares. You see, it’s not really 144K. That’s just approximate. Could be more, could be less.

    Heaven is a timeshare in Florida.

    DETWILER
    Sounds more like hell.

    MARVIN
    His old accountant was clever, but he couldn’t hide the payments. The boss had to grease a lot of palms to get that through. Plus, he had to pay off the masons.

    DETWILER
    Tough union?

    MARVIN
    No, the Freemasons. They wanted a piece of his action, and Jehovah didn’t want to start a war. He was trying to fly under the radar.

    DETWILER
    This is good stuff, Henderson, but I don’t know if it’s enough to nail him. You’ve got to give us more.

    MARVIN
    I’ve got more. He’s been skimming money off the top for years. His kid doesn’t even know, not that he’d do anything about it but pout anyway. It took me a month of going through the books, line by line but I caught it. You see, once you know what to ask, the answers can be found in his books.

    You know the X Prize?

    DETWILER
    No.

    MARVIN
    Big fund to build a private spaceship. Ten mill.

    DETWILER
    What’s that got to do with your boss?

    MARVIN
    It’s him. He’s the guy behind it.

    DETWILER
    What does god need with a starship?

    MARVIN
    Nothing. He’s been using it as a tax shelter. An illegal tax shelter.

    DETWILER
    We’ve got him!

    Tell me Henderson, why? Why did you turn against him?

    MARVIN
    My wife died last year. Cancer. I asked him why. “Why, Lord? Why did you take her?” He just sat there and said nothing. Bastard.

    BLACKOUT

    (A small, neatly furnished living room. Marvin and MARIE sit next to each other on a couch. Marvin’s hair color has been changed and he looks a few years older.)

    MARIE
    Ben, honey? I’m going to get a beer. You want one?

    MARVIN/BEN
    Sure, that’d be great.

    (Marie gets up and starts to head to the kitchen. The doorbell rings…)

    MARIE
    I’ll get it.

    (Marie crosses and opens the front door. A bright shaft of sunlight streams in through the opening. As the visitor speaks, Marvin’s expression changes from neutrality to abject terror.)

    MAN (O.S.)
    Have you heard the good word?

    BLACKOUT

  • Friday Night Sketch War: Round Twenty

    It’s been four long weeks since the last Sketch War summary, but that doesn’t mean there haven’t been some good sketches in the interim (and one very obscure one last week, sorry.) But this week we’re back at normal strength with a three-man knock-down drag-out donnybrook! So let’s get to it.

    • David fired the first shot with the deadly accuracy of an action movie superstar…
    • Coyote retaliated by unloading the clip of his service revolver, and curing cancer as an afterthought…
    • Michael might be back from his honeymoon, but his mind and sundry body parts remain behind.

    Bon mots, blow jobs, and Ponzi schemes do battle in the comedy arena this week. Enjoy!

    If you think you’ve got the chops to join in our weekly merriment, send a link of your funniest work to sketchwar at dreamloom dot com.

  • FSW: Trapezoid Traffic Stop

    (Harold and Debbie sit in their car, strobing blue and red lights shining through the rear window making clear their plight. At the wheel, Harold looks forlorn, Debbie irritated.)

    RADIO ANNOUNCER (O.S.)
    …come on in to Spiedermann’s Metal Gazebos. With every great bower comes great bronze stability!

    DEBBIE
    Turn that off!

    (Harold kills the radio. A trooper strides to the window in full regalia. His boots a-gleam and his hat brim arrow-straight, Dudley Do-Right’s got nothing on him.)

    TROOPER
    License and registration, please.

    (He examines the provided materials for a moment.)

    Do you know why I pulled you over this evening, folks?

    HAROLD
    I sure don’t, officer.

    DEBBIE
    Harold! Don’t be difficult. You know what you were doing. Tell the nice man.

    HAROLD
    I suppose I might have been just a smidge over the speed limit back there. Sorry, officer. I was just keeping pace, you know. And yes, I know that’s wrong.

    TROOPER
    Speeding, huh? Didn’t notice that. Let me get that down. Just how fast do you think you were going, Mr. Renshaw?

    HAROLD
    Oh, I wouldn’t say more than a couple of miles over…maybe six?

    DEBBIE
    Harold!

    HAROLD
    Ten. Okay, I was going ten over. I’m real sorry.

    TROOPER
    Ten. I should probably write you up for that.

    (The Trooper pulls out his ticket pad and gets poised to write.)

    You know, that’s actually not why I pulled you over this evening, Harold. Do you mind if I call you Harold?

    HAROLD
    That’s fine.

    DEBBIE
    What else did you do, Harold?

    TROOPER
    Now ma’am, don’t get too mad at Harold. It’s not what he did, but what I can do for you. Folks, I pulled you over tonight to talk about Prickly Pear Products. Are you familiar with the healing power of prickly pears?

    HAROLD
    Prickly…what?

    DEBBIE
    Are you giving him a ticket or not?

    TROOPER
    Well ma’am, that depends. You see, I’m a distributor for 3-P, that’s what we call Prickly Pear Products, and I’d like to ask whether I can interest you in making hundreds of extra dollars a month with just a few hours of work. Our products practically sell themselves. From hair care to health care, soap to supplements, prickly pear pulp can change the way you live.

    Did you know that before the white man arrived, the native Americans of the Southwest never got cancer?

    HAROLD
    I really don’t think we’re inter…wait. That can’t be right. You’re saying they never got cancer? And you expect us to believe that?

    (The Trooper looks at Harold and Debbie for a second, then raises his pen to the ticket.)

    TROOPER
    No sir. I suppose I don’t. You said fifteen miles over the limit, correct? You know in this state that’s considered reckless. I think you should step out of the car.

    HAROLD
    I said ten! Ten!

    DEBBIE
    Excuse me. Officer? I was wondering if there were any other uses for prickly pears. It all sounds so fascinating. Doesn’t it Harold?

    TROOPER
    I’m glad you asked. My product display case is in the trunk of my patrol car if you’d like to take a look, folks. Don’t mind the man in the back seat. He’s harmless.

    BLACKOUT

  • Answer Key to Friday’s Sketch

    Okay. I realize I overreached so far on yesterday’s sketch that it appears I’ve had a stroke. To assure you all, the ASPBV (American Society for the Protection of Blood Vessels) monitored the writing of that sketch and no blood vessels were injured in the production.

    So here’s a quick legend:

    • The patient is named Jim Halpert. If you don’t know, he’s a character on the American version of The Office. If you watch, you might remember this prank.
      • Bears. Beets. Battlestar Galactica.
    • The second man is Bear McCreary. That’s two ‘bears’. I specifically chose McCreary as the second Bear because he is the composer for BSG. Also writes a great blog on the process, here.
    • I should have been clearer about the soup that looks like blood. It’s borscht. That’s the ‘beets’.
    • When Edward James Olmos shows up, that’s the explicit BSG reference.
    • No next appointment for the patient until 2009 because last night was BSG’s season finale.
    • One more throwaway joke: McCreary was wearing a yellow smiley face and spilled borscht on it. That joke will make a lot more sense to a lot more people in 2009, but if you’ve read The Watchmen, you should get it.

    I’m not being defensive. I knew when I wrote the scene it had a limited audience. I just didn’t realize I’d made it *that* limited! 🙂

    Oh well. Next week will be better.

  • FSW: The Three Bees

    Okay, this one’s an odd egg. There are several jokes buried in here, but they’re targeted to specific audiences. I figure you either don’t get this at all, get pieces, or get everything. This might be my most layered piece yet. Now, whether it’s funny or not…

    David has already posted his piece for the week, an excellent one at that. He completely nailed his character’s voice. Michael’s on his honeymoon, so if a sketch shows up I’m going to be a bit concerned about the marriage! As for Red, she’s going to be out of the game for the next month or so as she lives the exciting life of a WSOP dealer. Poker, free drinks, and a salary. Not a bad gig.

    As always, we welcome – nay, beg – others to join in the sketch war games. Just email your piece or a link to your piece to sketchwar_at_dreamloom.com.

    The Three Bees
    (Jim lies on a couch. He wears shirt and tie, stylishly loose. His hair is a mop that says “I don’t care how it looks” but in reality takes thirty minutes and much product to achieve. Seated in a chair behind him taking notes is Dr. Josefs, a 50-something man in a cardigan. A very traditional Freudian.)

    DR. JOSEFS
    How are you today, Jim?

    JIM
    Okay. A little anxious…I had that dream again last night.

    DR. JOSEFS
    Tell me about it.

    JIM
    I’ve told you about it before. It’s the same, every time. Nothing ever changes.

    DR. JOSEFS
    I know, but this is a process. Talk it through. Tell me about the dream.

    JIM
    Okay. (Deep sigh)

    (As Jim starts to speak, the lights go down on the doctor’s office and come up on the scene he’s describing.)

    I’m sitting at a table in an old-style nightclub. It’s late, maybe after hours, and there are only a few people left. This one table is right in front of me. There are two men – one in a white dinner jacket and dress shirt with his bow tie undone, the other has his jacket and tie completely off and draped over the chair. Oh, the guy with the jacket, he’s got a button on the lapel. A yellow smiley face button.

    DR. JOSEFS
    What are the men doing?

    JIM
    They’re talking to each other and laughing, but I can’t hear them. All I hear is the sounds of tables being bussed.

    DR. JOSEFS
    Do you recognize these men?

    JIM
    Same two as always. The one with his jacket still on is a musician I saw perform once. McCreary, something. The other one is that guy who hosts “Man vs. Wild”. That Bear Grylls guy. He starts gesturing pretty wildly, pointing and waving his hands for emphasis. The McCreary guy just shakes his head no during the rant.

    (The men in the dream freeze and the lights dim to half-power. Then they come back up on the therapist’s office.)

    DR. JOSEFS
    And you can’t tell what they’re talking about?

    JIM
    Nope. I try. Everytime I have the dream I try to hear them, or read their lips or something. Doc, it’s happening more often. I’ve had it three times this week alone. I wake up sweating and shaking. What is it?

    DR. JOSEFS
    I don’t know. But we’ll figure it out. What else happens?

    JIM
    I’ve told you! I’ve told you at least ten times already. I’ve been having this dream for months!

    DR. JOSEFS
    I know, Jim. But we’re getting close to a breakthrough, I’m sure of it. What happens next?

    (Jim settles down and breathes deeply to calm himself. The lights go down again and they come up on the club scene. The men unfreeze.)

    JIM
    They finish their argument and then a carhop comes to the table with a tray.

    DR. JOSEFS
    A carhop?

    JIM
    One of those girls on rollerskates they used to have at drive-in burger places. She doesn’t have on much, but it all sparkles. It’s like she got in a fight with a Bedazzler and lost.

    DR. JOSEFS
    What’s on the tray?

    JIM
    Two bowls and a big jar.

    DR. JOSEFS
    A jar?

    JIM
    Yeah. The bowls are empty. She puts them in front of the guys and then opens the jar and pours it into the bowls. It’s thick and red. Looks like blood.

    DR. JOSEFS
    Do the men eat it?

    JIM
    Yeah. Like they’re starving. She rolls away and they’re already bent over the bowls. They’re ravenous. After a minute, they put down the spoons. They just pick up the bowls and drink, gulping down the soup. The one guy, McCreary, he spills a little on his shirt. Gets some on his smiley button, too. Then they turn right to me, both of them staring at me.

    DR. JOSEFS
    What do you think they want?

    JIM
    I don’t know. I can’t tell. Their expressions are blank. The wilderness guy, he raises his arm and points at me, and then I wake up.

    (Blackout on the nightclub scene. Lights back up on the therapist’s office.)

    Doc, I can’t take it any more. What’s it all mean?

    (Dr. Josefs looks at his notes, jots a few more down. Doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. It feels like an eternity.)

    DR. JOSEFS
    Jim, how are things at work?

    JIM
    At work? They’re fine. Same as usual.

    (Dr. Josefs jots a few more notes. From the darkness where the nightclub sits a man walks out. It’s Edward James Olmos, wearing a tuxedo. He walks right up to the couch while Dr. Josefs scribbles, not noticing.)

    OLMOS
    Your table is ready, sir.

    (Smash cut to the same exact scene, but Olmos is gone. Jim opens his eyes with a start and gasps.)

    DR. JOSEFS
    Jim?

    JIM
    I saw him. He was right here.

    DR. JOSEFS
    Saw who?

    JIM
    The maitre’d. But it wasn’t…it was that guy from “Miami Vice”.

    DR. JOSEFS
    Don Johnson? Don Johnson was the maitre’d?

    JIM
    No. Not him.

    DR. JOSEFS
    Tubbs? You dreamt about Tubbs? This is more serious than I realized. We’ll need to–

    JIM
    –no. Not him either. The lieutenant. What was his name?

    (Dr. Josefs scratches a few peremptory notes and puts down his pen.)

    DR. JOSEFS
    Jim, I think I understand what’s been bothering you–

    JIM
    –What is it, doc?–

    DR. JOSEFS
    –but, we’re out of time today.

    (Dr. Josefs presses a button on his intercom and speaks into it.)

    Mary? Could you please schedule another appointment for Mr. Halpert. Sometime in 2009 would be fine.

    BLACKOUT

  • FSW: Bob’s Knob Shop

    I fear I may be alone again this week, folks. Michael’s nuptials are here (if you’ve enjoyed his sketches in the past like I have, you should go on over and wish him and the bride luck) and David’s been up against a wall at work for a long while now. This might be a one-man war band.

    Imagine indeed, Mr. Lennon.

    Bob’s Knob Spot
    (Bob, in his 50s and portly, stands front and center by the register of a cramped store. At the register is Mabel who may be in her 50s or may be in her 90s; it’s hard to tell. Behind them are tightly packed aisles filled with doorknobs. At point of sale are more doorknobs.)

    BOB
    Hi folks. Bob Pushkin at Bob’s Knob Spot here to tell you about this week’s deals. We’ve got a sale on all of last year’s six-centimeter, seven-centimeter, and nine-centimeter cabinet knobs. Round ones, square ones, wood ones, metal ones. It doesn’t matter, they’ve got to go. We’ve got to make room for the new models and have slashed our prices. Take this knob for example…

    (Mabel hands Bob a small knob for a cabinet drawer.)

    BOB
    Regularly priced at 89 cents, we’ve cut the price to 67 cents! That’s a savings of 25%! And it’s not just the base models, either…

    (Mabel hands Bob a small porcelain knob with a design painted on it.)

    BOB
    Take this Miller & Steen porcelain knob. Regularly $3.75, we’ve slashed the price to $2.50! Don’t miss out!

    And now it’s time for this week’s comparison shopper where Mabel and I go under cover around town and check out the prices at our competitors.

    (Mabel hands Bob a blister pack containing a full knob and lock assembly for a door.)

    I picked up this LockJaw doorknob at Stan’s Hinges and Doors for $37.99. Our price: $35!

    (Mabel hands Bob another packaged knob set.)

    Mabel picked this one up just last night. It’s a Knob Factory solid brass knob which we sell for $60. Mabel got this one at Beds, Knobs, and Broomsticks for $75. $75?! Don’t pay the markup at these high-priced shops, folks!

    (Mabel hands Bob another package.)

    This Shmekl & Petsl knobset in brushed aluminum came from Home Depot and cost..

    (Bob looks at the price…and then tosses the knob away.)

    Forget that folks. The big boxes can’t compete with our legendary service, anyway.

    Bob’s Knob Spot, at the Corner of the Sevens. Seventh street and Seventh avenue. Two miles south of the Expressway.

    BOB AND MABEL
    Come on in today and let us polish your knob!

  • FSW: Rachael Ray, Terrorist!

    Tough choice today. Most of the day, the topic below seemed the most obvious target. Then around 4:30 I heard Harvey Korman had died. I thought about trying to write a sketch in honor of his greatness, but I’m not worthy. I wanted to give him a sendoff fit for a king, but I’m just a lowly piss boy.

    So instead, watch and mourn (and by “mourn”, I mean “laugh your ass off”) here.

    Now that I’ve properly bummed y’all out, here’s this week’s effort

    Rachael Ray, Terrorist!
    (We’re in the middle of a park on a beautiful May day in our nation’s capital, cherry blossoms in full color, wispy white clouds gently tracing paths across the rich, azure sky. Front and center is Rachael Ray, played by a fat man in a wig. She holds a small Dunkin’ Donuts. She wears a keffiyeh.)

    RACHAEL
    Hi! I’m Rachael Ray! When I’m on the road, I can’t always whip up a batch of baba ghanoush and big bowl of tabbouleh. So when I’m craving that taste of home, I stop in at Dunkin’ Donuts for their all new Falafel Munchkins!

    (Opening the box, Rachael plucks out a little ball of fried garbanzo goodness. Between her sausage-like fingers, the falafel ball seems particularly delicate.)

    RACHAEL
    He’s so cute! Look at that.

    (She pops it in her mouth and her eyes roll back in her head like a fat man, wearing a wig, possessed by a demon of the sort that likes its garbanzo flour deep-fried.)

    RACHAEL
    Delish! You can really taste the EVOO they fried it in, too.

    (She quickly finishes off four more falafel. She reaches down and picks up a cup of Dunkin’ Donuts Iced Coffee.)

    RACHAEL
    Nothing better to wash down your awesome Dunkin’ Donuts Falafel Munchkins than fresh-brewed Dunkin’ Donuts Iced Coffee!

    (Like a Shop-Vac, she sucks it up the straw and down her mighty gullet.)

    RACHAEL
    Dunkin’ Donuts. It’s not just donuts anymore!

    CUT TO: News Studio
    (Michelle Malkin – played by an Asian man because it is so hard to find an actual Filipino Tranny willing to make fun of one of his/her own – sits next to FOX News anchor Megyn Kelly. Behind them a monitor shows the frozen and deeply disturbing image of Rachael.)

    MEGYN
    Michelle, tell the viewers at home what bothers you about this ad.

    MICHELLE
    You’re kidding me, right Barbie?

    MEGYN
    It’s Megyn.

    MICHELLE
    Whatever. Look. That fat cow is wearing a keffiyeh. Anyone who wears a keffiyeh is a terrorist. Anyone who defends anyone who wears a keffiyeh is a terrorist. Yassir Arafat used to wear a keffiyeh and he was a terrorist. Don’t you get it?

    MEGYN
    I’m trying to follow you…

    MICHELLE
    I’ll speak slower.

    MEGYN
    That would probably help. Thanks.

    MICHELLE
    Yassir Arafat wore a keffiyeh. Rachael Ray is wearing a keffiyeh. Clearly she’s just like him.

    MEGYN
    Didn’t Yassir Arafat also wear shoes?

    MICHELLE
    What’s your point, Barbie?

    MEGYN
    Megyn.

    MICHELLE
    Whatever.

    MEGYN
    You’re wearing shoes. Does that make you a terrorist, too?

    (Michelle sticks her fingers in her ears and hums and goes LALALALA very loudly.)

    MICHELLE
    (Sing-song) I can’t hear you.

    MEGYN
    Michelle. Michelle!

    (Michelle takes her fingers out of her ears.)

    MICHELLE
    I hope I’ve made my point.

    MEGYN
    Clearly.

    I have a statement from Dunkin’ Donuts here I’d like to read. It says, “It’s a goddamn black and white silk paisley scarf you ignorant slut. And we didn’t pick it. But we’re going to pull the ads anyway because we’re owned by the Carlyle Group and are a bunch of pussies afraid of a loud-mouthed Filipino Tranny.”

    What do you have to say to that?

    MICHELLE
    Dunkin’ Donuts can lick my balls. At least for the next three months until I see the special doctor.

    No one, but no one who wears a keffiyeh should be allowed to live. They should be marched off to concentration camps. And the parents who let their children wear that evil symbol of jihad are worse. That’s the most un-American thing a parent can do, is let their children wear a keffiyeh.

    (The monitor behind Michelle changes to show a photo of Meghan and Cindy McCain. Meghan proudly sports a keffiyeh. Not a black and white silk paisley scarf that a fashion-less Filipino Tranny might confuse, but a traditional keffiyeh.)

    MEGYN
    Michelle? Any comments on the photo on the monitor?

    MICHELLE
    Yeah. Barack Hussein Obama went to a Madrassa and Hilary Clinton is almost as much of a man as I still am.

    MEGYN
    Thanks, Michelle. We’ll be right back.

    BLACKOUT

  • Friday Night Sketch War: Round Sixteen

    As the three-day weekend rolls to a close, it’s time to announce the winners and losers of this past Friday’s battle royale. In another two-man fight to the death,

    • Coyote drew first blood with his katana…
    • Michael parried with his claymore. What sucked for Coyote, was the Claymore was of the landmine variety.

    Winner: Michael.

    While we’re enjoying the small duels, it’s about time some friends and family join in the battle. We’re not the only writers here; we shouldn’t be the only writers fighting on Fridays. Email a link to your sketch to sketchwar_at_dreamloom.com.

  • FSW: On the Couch

    (Trevor lies on a couch, while behind him Mary sits in a chair taking notes. She is wearing a suit and glasses. Her hair is in a bun held together with a pencil.)

    MARY
    How are you feeling today, Trevor?

    TREVOR
    I’m okay. A little sluggish. Didn’t get a good night’s sleep.

    MARY
    Yes?

    TREVOR
    Restless. My dreams were too vivid, I think. Probably shouldn’t have had that burrito before bed.

    MARY
    Tell me about the burrito.

    TREVOR
    You don’t want to hear about the dreams?

    MARY
    I haven’t had breakfast yet. (BEAT) And sometimes a burrito is just a burrito.

    (They both chuckle at her bad joke.)

    Alright. Tell me about your dreams.

    TREVOR
    They started out like they always do. I was thirteen and mowing the lawn. It’s July and I’m working up quite a sweat. Now, our yard was pretty small, maybe a quarter-acre of grass to mow, but in my dream it’s this huge expanse. It’s at least three, four acres. And it feels like I’m pushing uphill in both directions.

    MARY
    (Furiously scribbling notes) Mmmhmm…

    TREVOR
    I keep thinking I’m going to run out of gas and need to fill up the tank, but it keeps going. Engine sputters a few times, but it just keeps running. The sun’s beating down and I’m sweating a ton.

    MARY
    What are you wearing?

    TREVOR
    Wearing? I guess I’m in shorts. I’ve never thought about…no, wait…I’m wearing my uniform from my first job.

    MARY
    What job is that?

    TREVOR
    I was the guy in the El Pollo Loco costume who held the sign down by the road. Terrible job. I lasted a month. I think that was a record. That costume smelled like cigarettes and puke.

    MARY
    So you’re mowing the lawn in the costume. Do you have on the chicken head?

    TREVOR
    No. Just the rest of it. The feet are huge, too.

    MARY
    (More energetic notetaking) Mmmm…

    TREVOR
    And then suddenly, I find myself lying by a pool.

    MARY
    Are you alone?

    TREVOR
    My mother’s there, feeding me grapes. It’s kind of weird.

    MARY
    Are you still in your costume?

    TREVOR
    No. I’m in swim trunks. And you’re there, too, painting my toenails.

    MARY
    (Notes) I’m there? Hmm. What are your mother and I wearing?

    TREVOR
    She’s in one of those old-timey swimsuits. You’re dressed like you are now. Suit, hair up, glasses.

    MARY
    Very interesting —

    TREVOR
    — I love you, Mary.

    MARY
    No, no, no. You’re just projecting your feelings onto me.

    TREVOR
    No, Mary, really I do.

    MARY
    (More notes) Mmmhmm. (BEAT) Tell me more about your mother. How does it make you feel when she feeds you these grapes.

    TREVOR
    I guess it makes me feel good. I was hot and thirsty, and the grapes are cool and moist in my mouth.

    MARY
    And what do you think the grapes represent?

    TREVOR
    Represent? I don’t know.

    MARY
    Okay, we’ll get back to that. Let’s move on to something else. Last time you said you were having some performance issues. How is that going?

    TREVOR
    I, I just can’t get excited anymore.

    MARY
    Does anything excite you? Any fantasies?

    TREVOR
    Um, this is kind of hard to say…

    MARY
    This is a safe place, Trevor. You can say anything in here.

    TREVOR
    When I woke up from the dream I was pretty excited.

    (Mary flips pages, she’s taking so many notes now. Her pencil breaks and she pulls the one out of her hair to continue unabated. Her hair falls around her shoulders.)

    MARY
    I think we’re about to have a breakthrough–

    (The door opens and Sally, a teenage girl, comes in.)

    SALLY
    Mom? There’s a call for you from the hospital. Something about seizures, or something? One of your patients.

    MARY
    (Getting up) Thanks, Sally.

    SALLY
    Dad? Can I borrow the car tonight?

    BLACKOUT