Sketch War

Author: rporter

  • Welcome to Sketch War

    About a year ago, Michael posted a sketch on his blog one Friday night. Being hyper-competitive, I banged a sketch out after work and posted it by midnight, throwing down a virtual gauntlet. Every Friday hence, we wrote sketches – first on whatever we wanted, and later on pre-selected topics – and posted them to our blogs.

    This past December, we decided it was time to consolidate all our sketches in one place and created this blog. We’d been joined over the year by several other comedy writers and wanted a showcase. But the problem with the new blog is that we’d post between two and five sketches all on Friday and nothing else the other six days of the week. Not great for providing entertaining content to attract and keep visitors.

    With the new influx of visitors coming thanks to Chuck’s Blog Mob project, we decided it was time to make some changes.

    For the next two weeks, we’ll be spreading out our sketch entries. Long-time readers already know that last Friday was the first time we didn’t post sketches. We wanted to hold them for this week. Meanwhile, we’ll be slowly adding new content. Things like critiques on each others’ sketches, reviews of live sketch performances, analysis of sketches from SNL and the like, short scenes from works in progress, and posts on the art and technique of sketch writing. Once we’ve gotten the flow of secondary content high enough, we’ll go back to Friday battles.

    We’re also counting on all of you to tell us what you want to see more of. If we should focus on critiques and analysis or posting other short scenes, or posts on how to write sketches. So let us know in comments.

    But for now, please take a look through our archives and keep coming back every weekday for new sketches.

  • Strange things are afoot at Sketch War…

    We’re going to be making a few changes and tweaks around here over the next few weeks, and because of that we’re holding off on posting our sketches until Monday. I know, it seems to defeat the whole purpose of a “Friday Sketch War” to not post on Friday, but that’s part of the tweaking.

    Come back Monday morning first thing for more details about the changes.

    In the meantime, here’s something to tide you over, know what I mean?

     

    There’s video below, FeedReader.

  • Friday Night Sketch War: Borders Edition

    Forgive me the lateness of this recap, but I’m still recovering from the bloody melee in the arena yesterday. *Five* warriors did battle yesterday; the floor slick with cream pies and banana peels.

    Whoa. Passed out from the blood loss. On to the sketches on the theme: borders.

    Wow. Just, wow. Five warriors, and rumors of another battler considering joining the fray next week. We’ve got guns, rednecks, zombies, Minutemen, Ivans, and fat kids. Check them out and be sure to leave comments.

    Next week’s topic: advertising.

    If you think you’ve got the comedy chops to do battle with our scarred
    and bitter warriors, if you dare step into the hailstorm of seltzer and
    cream pies, if you think you’re MAN ENOUGH to make us laugh, write a
    sketch and contact us at sketchwar(nospam)@dreamloom.com.

  • FSW: Borders Edition (Coyote’s Entry)

    INT. BEDROOM – DAY

    Matching pairs of twin beds, nightstands, and dressers mirror left and right. A line of duct tape neatly divides the room down the center, right up the back wall, splitting a JONAS BROTHERS POSTER right between Nick’s eyes. EMILY, 7 and sassy, enters the left and notices a shirt edging over her side of the line.

    EMILY

    Mom! Maddy’s stuff’s on my side again!

    Mom’s heard this before and she’s tired of it.

    MOM (O.S.)

    So move it, Emily.

    EMILY

    She’s always over the line! It’s not fair.

    MOM comes into the room from the right and picks up the shirt. She folds and lays it on the right side bed. She crosses the line and sits next to Emily.

    MOM

    Em, you know she tries, but she’s not a big girl like you. Try to be understanding?

    EMILY

    Okay.

    CUT TO:

    INT. BEDROOM – DAY

    MADDY, a precocious 4-year old with a mouth as big as her sister’s, enters the empty room from the right. She spies a pink sneaker on her side of the divide.

    MADDY

    (whiny)

    MOM!!! Em’ly’s shoe’s on my side!

    MOM (O.S.)

    Maddy, what did we say about whining?

    MADDY

    (whinier)

    But, mom!

    Mom enters from the left, picks up the sneaker and puts it next to its mate at the foot of Emily’s bed.

    MOM

    Maddy!

    (beat)

    Never mind.

    CUT TO:

    INT. BEDROOM – DAY

    Emily enters from the left and sees one of Maddy’s dolls on her side of the room.

    EMILY

    Mom!

    VIRGIL, a mid-50s rancher in boots, jeans, and 10-gallon hat, enters from the right with a folding chair, sets it up on the center line, and sets hisself down.

    EMILY (CONT’D)

    Who’re you?

    Virgil tips his hat so-slightly.

    VIRGIL

    Name’s Virgil. You must be Emily. Your mom’s told me all about you.

    EMILY

    She has?

    VIRGIL

    Yep.

    EMILY

    Why are you here?

    VIRGIL

    Keepin’ the peace.

    Maddy enters from the right and stops dead in her tracks when she sees Virgil.

    MADDY

    MOM!!!

    VIRGIL

    Whoa now, little lady. No call for hollerin’. Name’s Virgil.

    MADDY

    You smell funny.

    Virgil plucks a flask from his pocket and takes a sip.

    VIRGIL

    Wouldn’t know about that. Been minding the border down Mexico way with the Minutemen. Then they finally up and finished that dadburned fence.

    Emily slides one of her pink sneakers across the floor to the line. Just as it breaks the plane, Virgil pulls a six-shooter from a hidden shoulder holster and trains it on her head.

    VIRGIL (CONT’D)

    Might want to rethink that.

    Virgil opens his flask again and offers it to Emily and Maddy before taking a swallow.

    BLACKOUT:

  • Friday Night Sketch War: The Heist Edition

    Ssh! The warriors were in stealth mode this week for a battle of wits and wills in The Heist! Let’s see what convoluted and shifty schemes our combatants put together.

    Me, personally, I think Peter kicked our asses hard with his short, sharp blackout sketch. I’m a little embarassed to have mine in competition against it, even if I do have a really nice visual midway through.

    Next week’s topic: Borders.

    If you think you’ve got the comedy chops to do battle with our scarred
    and bitter warriors, if you dare step into the hailstorm of seltzer and
    cream pies, if you think you’re MAN ENOUGH to make us laugh, write a
    sketch and contact us at sketchwar(nospam)@dreamloom.com.

  • FSW: Heist Edition (Coyote’s entry)

    EXT. RIVERBANK – DAY

    A secluded spot on the NY side of the Hudson River. The GW Bridge is recognizable to the north. The camera focuses out on the river.

    MARTIN (O.S.)

    Goddamn, it’s cold!

    PIERRE (O.S.)

    Oui. I could have stayed in Quebec if I’d wanted to freeze my tail off.

    MADELINE (O.S.)

    The job’s here, not in Quebec. Stop your squawking and focus. The boss is almost in position.

    PIERRE (O.S.)

    I still don’t understand the plan.

    MADELINE (O.S.)

    That’s because you’re a stubborn old fool. Look, the courier is on the plane, right?

    PIERRE (O.S.)

    Oui.

    MADELINE (O.S.)

    He always has the case with him?

    MARTIN (O.S.)

    You don’t have to talk down to us.

    MADELINE (O.S.)

    I think maybe I do. We need a distraction, some way to create enough chaos that the courier forgets the case for just a moment. Then Marcel can grab it and get out.

    PIERRE (O.S.)

    And that’s why–

    CUT TO:

    The three plotters are in bird costumes. Goddamn Canada Geese.

    MADELINE

    –That’s why we crash the plane.

    CUT TO MAIN TITLES:

    Montage of the Geese committing crimes. Picking locks, picking pockets, cracking safes, stuff blowing up, and finally a slo-mo walk toward us by all four of the Geese criminals. The title on the screen…GOOD FOR THE GANDER

    EXT. RIVERBANK – DAY

    The three Geese are right where we left them, stomping their webbed feet in the cold.

    MARTIN

    What’s with this manifesto you sent out?

    MADELINE

    We’re taking out the plane for the Canuck Avian Liberation Front.

    PIERRE

    CALF?

    MADELINE

    Yes.

    PIERRE

    Shouldn’t it be BIRD, or GOOSE, or something like that?

    MADELINE

    Cute.

    PIERRE

    Really, who are they?

    MADELINE

    I read about them in Time Magazine. It should throw the Feds off our scent.

    A cellphone rings. Martin takes his out of his pocket and answers.

    MARTIN

    Go.

    (beat)

    Alright, we’re ready.

    He hangs up and turns to his comrades.

    MARTIN (CONT’D)

    They’re airborne. It’s time.

    MADELINE

    Remember…flap around like crazy so the pilot thinks there are more of us, then throw the frozen turkeys toward the engines. The turbines will do the rest.

    PIERRE

    See you on the other side!

    Pierre starts to run toward the water flapping his wings.

    MADELINE

    No, you idiot! The rendezvous is on this side of the river!

    BLACKOUT:

  • Friday Night Sketch War: Cartoons Edition

    Sufferin’ Succatash! We’ve got three very animated sketches this week on the topic of cartoons. Anvils were dropped, gravity was defied, and meddling kids and their dog spoiled plans. Let’s get to it.

    Check them out. We’ve got a Hanna-Barbera, a Loony Tunes, and what I’m picturing as a Tex Avery. Good stuff.

    Next week’s topic of death: the heist.

    If you think you’ve got the comedy chops to do battle with our scarred and bitter warriors, if you dare step into the hailstorm of seltzer and cream pies, if you think you’re MAN ENOUGH to make us laugh, write a sketch and contact us at sketchwar(nospam)@dreamloom.com.

  • Cartoons Edition (Coyote’s Entry)

    The Acme Prize

    INT. TV STUDIO – DAY

    Toonday Show studio. MATT MALLARD sits with MEREDITH MEERKAT and AL ELEPHANT on the couch.

    MATT

    Exciting news from the world of science today. The recipients of this years’ Acme Prizes are about to receive their awards, including our own Toonday Show correspondant and Avery Institute fellow, Abner Fudd.

    MEREDITH

    I didn’t even know Abner was a real scientist.

    AL

    What did you think he was?

    MEREDITH

    I thought he was just like Sanjay Bluejay.

    CUT TO:

    SANJAY BLUEJAY sitting behind a desk bobbing his head up and down up and down in a glass of water. He notices the camera and smiles with 88 pearly whites.

    SANJAY

    Good cholesterol, good. Bad cholesterol, bad. *SQUAWK*

    CUT TO:

    Back to the couch.

    MATT

    No, Abner’s not just a bobbing head. Let’s go to the awards ceremony.

    INT. AUDITORIUM – DAY

    ABNER FUDD is a very short man with a very large egghead. He is resplendent in tails standing on stage next to JACK RABBIT.

    JACK

    Abner, congratulations. Can you try to explain your research to the audience at home?

    ABNER

    I’ll do my best, Jack. My research concerns black holes.

    JACK

    Like this one?

    Jack pulls a floppy black disc from his jacket and drops it on the floor. Then he jumps into it. He pops back up a second later with an old seltzer bottle and sprays Abner in the face.

    ABNER

    Exactly.

    Abner pulls a black hole from his jacket, drops it, jumps in, and pops up with a shotgun.

    ABNER (CONT’D)

    When they were first discovered by Steven Chickenhawking, we didn’t know much about them. My research sheds new light on them and give us a clue what the tooniverse was like in the very first picoseconds after the Big Bang.

    (beat)

    Speaking of big bangs…

    Abner lifts the shotgun and pulls the trigger multiple times, chasing Jack around the stage as he shoots at him.

    Jack jumps back into his black hole, reaches his hand out, and pulls the black hole into itself. Abner stops shooting, stands still, and scratches his head.

    As Abner turns around, looking for Jack, Jack pops out of Abner’s black hole with a giant wooden sledgehammer and BASHes Abner over the head. A lump rises, and birds circle and tweet. Jack puts his paws on Abner’s shoulders and guides him to a podium.

    ABNER (CONT’D)

    (singing)

    I’m a little teapot, short and stout…

    Jack pulls out a bundle of dynamite and hands it to Abner.

    JACK

    In honor of Alfred Acme, the inventor of dynamite, allow me to present you with the 2009 Acme Prize in Physics.

    ABNER

    (shaking his head clear)

    Thank you. Thank you so much. This is so wonderful. I never thought–

    At the other end of the stage at the end of a long fuse, Jack pushes down on a plunger, blowing up the dynamite. Abner’s face is blackened with soot, his collar askew, his hair burnt off.

    ABNER (CONT’D)

    You’re despicable.

    BLACKOUT:

  • The Loan’s the Thing

    Heh. I had a little brain fart the other day. Brownlee stars in a new short and I knew it was familiar…that’s because it was one of his sketchwar entries from last summer.

    Click here to read “The Loan’s the Thing” and watch below.

  • Resolutions, Inc. – R.A.’s entry

    INT. OFFICE BULLPEN – NIGHT

    Half-height cube walls provide minimal privacy and noise dampening between seat after seat of headset-wearing drones dressed all in white. Except, they’re not drones. They all have angel’s wings. MICHAEL shows CLARENCE the operation.

    MICHAEL

    That’s some nice work you did last Christmas, Clarence, really. We were all very proud to see you finally get your wings.

    CLARENCE

    Thank you, sir. I’ve always wanted to help people. I’m glad I’ll finally be getting my chance.

    MICHAEL

    Oh.

    (Beat)

    What do you know about our division?

    CLARENCE

    St. Peter said he thought this would be a good place for me to start out, to get my toes wet.

    MICHAEL

    You know that the Big Boss works in mysterious ways, right Clarence?

    CLARENCE

    Of course, of course.

    MICHAEL

    His plan is ineffable.

    CLARENCE

    Yes, yes.

    MICHAEL

    Unfathomable.

    CLARENCE

    Michael, dear boy, what are you trying to tell me?

    MICHAEL

    What we do here at Resolutions, Inc. is a little…different. Did you ever make a New Year’s resolution when you were mortal?

    CLARENCE

    Oh yes! Every year I vowed I would take a little of this

    (indicates ample waist)

    off by taking regular constitutionals and eating less of my dear Martha’s food. But her cookery was so good, that by two weeks into the year my resolve was lost.

    MICHAEL

    And that’s what we do here.

    CLARENCE

    Help people stick with their resolutions?

    MICHAEL

    Cause people to break them.

    Michael points to a computer in front of one of the angels. Pictures of foamy mugs of beer, frosty margaritas, and double scotches fill the monitor. ESTELLA, all blond ringlets and cherubic face slides a mouse on the desktop and speaks into her headset.

    ESTELLA

    (Whispering)

    Just one little drink wouldn’t hurt. Two long days without a drop…a little pick-me-up…it’d be like a reward for doing so well…

    Clarence blanches and backs away.

    CLARENCE

    Michael! This is terrible!

    MICHAEL

    Now Clarence, I told you, it’s all in the Big Boss’s plan. Come with me. Let me introduce you to the angel who’ll be training you.

    Michael leads Clarence past more angels at their desks. We catch glimpses of their monitors: devilish desserts and scantily clad women and men dominate. Michael stops behind a bald male angel energetically talking into his headset. His monitor displays a hammock swinging between two trees.

    MALE ANGEL

    (Whispering)

    The gym will be there tomorrow, but this sunny afternoon won’t last forever. Make some lemonade, have some cookies, take a nap.

    The angel clicks his mouse and the monitor changes to show loaves of bread baking in an oven.

    MALE ANGEL (CONT’D)

    (Whispering)

    It’s homemade. One slice won’t hurt. They’re whole grain carbs.

    The angel clicks again and the monitor shows a football game.

    MALE ANGEL (CONT’D)

    (Whispering)

    It’s the playoffs! Your wife will understand. The game’s just too important to miss. You can clean the gutters tomorrow.

    CLARENCE

    I say my good man! How can you do this? Have you no heart?

    The angel faces Clarence…

    MICHAEL

    Clarence, this is our top performer. Job, meet Clarence.

    JOB

    Pleasure. So you’re the new fellow, eh? Nice work on your wing assignment. Shame what happened when the regulators showed up the next day.

    BLACKOUT: