INT. DEPARTMENT STORE – DAY
JIM YOUNG, in his 20s with sharply creased pants, shiny from too much wear, stands at the RETURNS COUNTER opposite MIRIAM, efficient and professional.
MIRIAM
What a lovely story, Mr. Young! So do you want to exchange the chain for a nice hat, or maybe a wig?
JIM
Actually, I was wondering if I could get store credit for these combs. I noticed you’ve got Xbox 360s on sale today.
BLACKOUT:
INT. JARED’S APARTMENT, BEDROOM – NIGHT
TITLE: MONDAY
JARED sleeps alone. Young and nebbishy, at least what we can see poking from under the covers. An old-school FLIP CLOCK reads 3:33AM. It flips…
…and three car alarms go off simultaneously. Jared pops up, reaches for the alarm clock, realizes the noise is outside. He lies back down and stares at the ceiling.
INT. JARED’S APARTMENT, BEDROOM – NIGHT
TITLE: TUESDAY
Same place, same time. Jared sleeps. The clock reads 3:33AM. It flips…
…and we hear Jared’s party girl neighbors walk under his window laughing and screeching drunkenly. He pops up, and immediately lies back down, sighing loudly.
INT. JARED’S APARTMENT, BEDROOM – NIGHT
TITLE: WEDNESDAY
The clock at 3:33AM again. It flips. No sound for a few tantalizing seconds and then…
…the beeping and crashing of a garbage truck under the window. Jared wakes, grabs his pillow and tries to cover his ears.
INT. TRAVEL AGENT’S – DAY
TITLE: SEVEN HOURS LATER
Jared sits across from MABEL, in her 60s with crudely dyed hair. She hands him a small PACKET and he smiles and shakes her hand.
INT. HOTEL ROOM – NIGHT
TITLE: THURSDAY, HOTEL DEL SOL, MEXICO
A gentle breeze shifts the sheers on the patio slider, causing the light of the moon to shimmer and dance across the bed. Jared sleeps in the fluffy, oversized bed, so peaceful. The CLOCK at the side of his bed reads 3:33AM. It changes and…
the sounds of a Mexican Hat Dance roll loudly through the open door. Jared opens his eyes wearily.
INT. TRAVEL AGENT’S – DAY
TITLE: 12 HOURS LATER
Jared’s animated right now. Mabel points to POSTERS – Hawaii, Jamaica, Miami – Jared shakes his head violently. He points and Mabel looks in shock.
ANGLE ON POSTER
Iceland: Land of the Midnight Sun
INT. HOTEL ROOM – DUSK
TITLE: SATURDAY, 36 HOURS LATER, ICELAND
Muted light filters in through a window. The super-cool, oh-so modern CLOCK next to the bed reads 3:33AM. It flips and…
GOLFER (O.S.)
Fore!
There’s a whack of club on ball. Jared opens his mouth to scream and…
CUT TO:
INT. PADDED CELL – NIGHT
Jared’s wrapped up tight in a STRAIGHTJACKET, but he has a huge smile on his face as he sleeps peacefully. No sounds are heard but his own gentle snoring. He opens his eyes and stretches as much as a man in a straightjacket can stretch. The door has a small viewport and we
ANGLE OUT VIEWPORT
On the nurses’s station. We see an old-school FLIP CLOCK change to 3:34AM.
BLACKOUT:
W00t! Welcome to the new home for Sketch War. In our first battle in the new stadium, three warriors gave their all. Ninjas, knives, guns, God’s wrath, lightning, and truthiness. Two talky-talky sketches against one without a word.
Not bad for the first go ’round here in our new digs. I just wish I could figure out where the blood drains in the kill pit are.
Next week’s topic is 3:34AM. Peter made three suggestions, two of them were nice and conventional. So of course I picked his third. But like Sky Masterson…
My time of day is the dark time
A couple of deals before dawn
When the street belongs to the cop
And the janitor with the mop
And the grocery clerks are all gone.
If you want to play along, write a sketch and send it, or a link to it, to sketchwarNOSPAM@dreamloom.com. And be sure to come back next Friday for more humor and mayhem.
EXT. GARDEN – DAY
Lush, jungle-like. Three tree stumps conveniently positioned as table and chairs. ADAM, grinning like a rube, and LILITH sit naked across from each other, hair and branches strategically concealing naughty bits. The brunette smolders and looks slinky even while seated.
ADAM
…and I call those goats.
LILITH
They stink.
ADAM
Yeah, I hadn’t noticed. The bigger ones, with the long hair, I call those yaks. Except those other ones over there? Those are gnus.
Lilith glances where Adam points, then looks around anxiously.
LILITH
Where the hell’s the waiter?
ADAM
Waiter?
LILITH
Or waitress, whatever. To take our order? I’d kill for a drink.
ADAM
Oh, let me get you some pomegranate juice. I named that, too. And the strawberry, and the boysenberry…
Adam’s voice trails off as he exits, still strategically obscured. Lilith sighs. As Adam comes back in view we hear him continue…
ADAM (CONT’D)
…and the huckleberry, and the chokeberry, and the–
LILITH
–You named all the berries, too. That’s great. So Adam, what else do you do? Besides naming.
Adam hands Lilith a hollowed gourd and she drains it. She curls her lip and stares at the cup.
ADAM
I tend the fields and I tend the flocks and I–
LILITH
–Yeah. Hey sweetie? You got anything back there with a bit more kick?
ADAM
Kick?
LILITH
You know, something fermented?
ADAM
Nope. Just juice. You want some lingonberry juice?
LILITH
(sighing)
No, I’m fine. Maybe something to eat?
ADAM
We’ve got barley porridge. I can top it with blueberries if you like. Or blackberries–
A lamb, barely old enough to walk, stumbles up to the table.
LILITH
–What’s that?
ADAM
That’s a lamb. It’s a baby sheep. I also named sheep.
LILITH
That sounds good.
ADAM
The name pleases you?
LILITH
No, a lamb chop sounds good. Rare.
ADAM
You want me to make a sacrifice for God?
LILITH
No, I want you to make mint jelly for me.
ADAM
I don’t know how I feel–
LILITH
–Look, Adam. You’re a nice guy. Really. But you’re obviously busy with the…naming and the tending. I’m just not sure I feel a real connection.
ADAM
What about my rib?
LILITH
What about it?
ADAM
“And the rib, which the LORD God had taken from man, made he a woman, and brought her unto the man.” That’s me. I’m the man. You’re bone of my bones and everything.
LILITH
(sotto voce)
That’s the only bone around here from what I can see.
ADAM
What?
LILITH
Look, I appreciate all that, but it’s not enough. There’s just no spark. I’d love it if we could be friends, though.
Adam looks heavenward and shrugs. Lightning flashes, thunder claps, and when he looks back down he’s sitting across from EVE: blond, fair, and grinning like her mate.
EVE
(vapidly)
What do you call that animal, Adam?
BLACKOUT:
Another tough topic, though not nearly as painful, or likely to make a grown man cry and jump on a couch, as Oprah. Again, we had three warriors enter the fray. They acquitted themselves well.
Three solid sketches on a beyatch of a topic. Next week’s topic: first dates.
If you want to play along, write a sketch and send a link to it to sketchwar at dreamloom.com. And be sure to come back next Friday when we’re hoping to have a few new competitors.
Quick point of order: Peter is a bastard for coming up with this week’s theme, Learning something new about history. May a thousand beetles crawl into his closet and take up residence in his favorite sneaker. The left one, not the right one.
Come back on Saturday for the recap, where I give you links to the (hopefully) better sketches on the theme.
The Truth About Harry
INT. BAR – NIGHT
A dark, quiet hideaway where men go to get drunk. MICHAEL early 40s and reedy, with the wild eyes of a hunted man, and Peter, late 20s and not crazy, sit nursing scotches. A BARTENDER wipes glasses at the other end of the bar.
MICHAEL
Truman was a Freemason.
PETER
What?
MICHAEL
Haberdasher is a code word for Freemason.
PETER
No, haberdasher is a code word for “guy who sells belts and socks.”
MICHAEL
C’mon! All the evidence is right in front of you and you just won’t see it.
PETER
Enlighten me, oh wise one.
MICHAEL
Yeah, the Illuminati got their start in the Enlightenment, but we don’t have to go that far back. (Beat) So what do you think Truman was doing at Yalta while Roosevelt was negotiating with Stalin?
PETER
What do I think Truman was doing at Yalta?
MICHAEL
Yeah.
PETER
I think Truman was asking himself how the hell he ended up in Yalta when he never went to Yalta.
MICHAEL
What do you mean?
PETER
I mean, Roosevelt went to Yalta, not Truman.
MICHAEL
Are you sure? I read somewhere that Truman and Churchill ganged up on Stalin at the conference.
PETER
A, that was Potsdam, after the war. And B, if you thought that, why would you imply he was off doing God-knows-what instead of negotiating the peace?
MICHAEL
Exactly. See, if Truman was at Potsdam, it’s not too far to conclude that he was working in the shadows at Yalta, right? Behind the scenes, pulling the strings.
PETER
(To the bartender)
Excuse me, can I get whatever he’s drinking?
MICHAEL
I’m serious.
PETER
You think the Vice President of the United States spent a month out of the country, in the middle of a war, and no one knew it?
MICHAEL
See how impossible that sounds? Only the Freemasons could have pulled something like that off.
Peter stares for a second. He opens his mouth to talk…then shakes his head.
MICHAEL (CONT’D)
But he wasn’t there for a month, just a few days. The Freemasons smuggled Truman over in their secret submarine–
PETER
–What?
MICHAEL
Their submarine. The Nautilus.
PETER
Like from the book?
MICHAEL
Which book is that?
PETER
Um…20,000 Leagues Under the Ocean? Sea. 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. The Verne.
MICHAEL
I knew you weren’t completely ignorant. Right. Jules Verne. He was too proud to let his work go unnoticed.
PETER
You’re saying Jules Verne built the Nautilus. A real submarine. And then he wrote about it.
MICHAEL
Yeah, and it got him kicked out.
PETER
(Playing along, now)
I didn’t know. So, the Masons kicked him out.
MICHAEL
The Illuminati. It was their sub. They just leased it to the Freemasons. Anyway, they got Truman to Yalta two days ahead of Roosevelt and he and Churchill divvied up Germany. Roosevelt thought he was so tough with his big stick…
Peter winces at this latest bit of stupidity from Michael…
MICHAEL (CONT’D)
…but it was Truman who really talked softly.
PETER
You know that was Teddy not…oh, nevermind.
MICHAEL
Then Howard Hughes flew him back home in the Spruce Goose right before Roosevelt showed up. The rest of the conference was just for show. Same with Potsdam. And once Truman gave Einstein the plans for the A-bomb–
PETER
–What?!?
MICHAEL
Scary, isn’t it? The New World Order is coming, man, and you can’t stop it.
The bartender comes toward our boys.
BARTENDER
Closing time, gents.
PETER
Okay, I’ve had my fill for the night, anyway. Michael. Seriously. You need help.
MICHAEL
I know. That’s why I keep writing on my blog and mailing out the newsletter. I can’t stop them alone.
PETER
(Sad for his friend)
Yeah. That’s what I meant. Um, I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you around, okay?
MICHAEL
Sure man. Next time drinks are on me.
Peter exits quickly. Michael downs the rest of his drink and gets up to go.
BARTENDER
Mr. Howard, I’m afraid we can’t let you leave.
A hidden door behind the bar slides open and reveals a huge Masonic crest. Two men in monk’s habits step out behind two serious looking pistols.
BARTENDER (CONT’D)
You know too much.
BLACKOUT:
Yours truly – like many before him – fell under the spell of one Ms. Oprah Gail Winfrey’s hypnotic powers. I thought to myself did I, “oh, Oprah would make a great theme for Sketch War. So many topics. So many sketch ideas. This will be great!” She’s ephemeral. Like a ghost, or Duke Nukem Forever, just when you think you’ve got a firm grasp on her she disappears.
We all struggled this week and weren’t able to bring our usual B-games. Still, there are a few chuckles to be had. Next week, in what is hopefully an easier topic, Peter’s selected learning something new about history.
If you want to play along, write a sketch and send a link to it to sketchwar at dreamloom.com. And be sure to come back next Friday when we’re hoping to have a few new competitors.
Holy crap. I swear, when I thought of Oprah last week, I had visions of sketches writing themselves. So many ideas filled my head: Oprah as a cruel taskmaster; Oprah as an international spy; Oprah giving hitmen assignments with envelopes under their seats. Those ideas? They don’t work. Nothing worked. I was going to do a dinner party where Steadman was the butler? Crap. Everything crap.
Then I realized I really needed to take Oprah *out* of the sketch.
This isn’t comedy gold, but I think it’s alright. As for the products mentioned…thank you Wikipedia!
Peter’s sketch is up already – and is both funny and disturbing. I credit him for reminding me that Oprah permeates our culture. Of course, I won’t be crediting him when I have nightmares tonight. No word yet from anyone else, but come on back for the recap this weekend.
Oprah’s Favorite Things
INT. LIVING ROOM – DAY
MAYBELLE and her guests JO, JOLLY, and AMY sit in the cleanest, classiest, brightest doublewide in town. JOSH GROBAN’S “NOEL” plays in the background. The women are all in their late-30s to late-40s and well turned out. A careful observer might notice they’re all wearing the same RACHEL PALLY SWING TURTLENECK AND SAILOR PANTS. The truly observant might see the matching UGG BOOTS and TOYWATCH CRYSTAL WATCHES. That observer would be very much like these women if she knew the significance of that.
JO
These cookies are fantastic, Maybelle.
MAYBELLE
Thanks, Jo. I found the recipe in last month’s “O” and just whipped them up in my KitchenAid Artisan Mixer.
JOLLY
The cookies are good, but this sorbetto is to die for. Ciao Bella?
MAYBELLE
Of course! Is there any other?
The ladies all laugh. Amy picks up a dog-eared book. It’s a copy of KEN FOLLET’S “THE PILLARS OF THE EARTH”. She flips through it.
AMY
Jack’s dreamy.
The ladies all sigh.
MAYBELLE
Oh, oh! It’s time!
Maybelle picks up a remote and mutes the music. She turns up the TV. OPRAH’S THEME MUSIC plays. Jolly mans a SONY NOTEBOOK. Jo and Amy have pencils, paper, and BLACKBERRIES ready.
OPRAH (O.S.)
These are my favorite things…with a twist! Today, we’re going to learn how to have the thriftiest holiday ever!
MAYBELLE
Uh-oh…
OPRAH (O.S.)
In a time of such economic trouble and uncertainty, I can’t in good conscience give away lavish gifts. Instead I’m going to show you some do-it-yourself gift ideas for the holidays.
Jo’s cellphone rings. She answers and immediately pulls the phone from her ear. We hear…
STEFFI (O.S.)
There’s nothing under my goddamn seat! No gift basket! Nothing here!
(muted, to someone at her location)
No! No, I will NOT calm down! I didn’t ride 13 hours on a Greyhound bus for macaroni frames and hugs!
Sounds of a scuffle, coming through the phone and the TV. Then silence. Maybelle turns off the TV.
AMY
“Gratitude boxes?”
JOLLY
Great. What am I supposed to wear for the next year? This turtleneck?
JO
I love you guys.
MAYBELLE
Can it, Jo.
JO
No, I mean it. If Oprah thinks we should cut back, maybe we should. I’m still paying off my Dell 30″ Wide-Screen LCD TV.
JOLLY
That was from 2004!
JO
I know. Ricky had to take an extra shift just to keep us from losing the Taurus.
AMY
I hate Scrabble!
JOLLY
I don’t understand you guys. Just because Oprah says we should cut back, you’re going to cut back? That makes no sense. I mean, if she told you to buy something useless, would you?
MAYBELLE
You watch a lot of shows on that LG HDTV refrigerator at your place?
JOLLY
Sometimes!
JO
Look, I can’t keep up anymore. I think Oprah’s right. This year, I’m giving out handmade gifts.
AMY
Me too.
MAYBELLE
So am I. Jolly?
JOLLY
Alright. Fine. Let’s put something else on. I don’t feel like talking much right now.
Maybelle picks up the remote and clicks away. She stops and we hear…
ANNOUNCER (O.S.)
Doors open at midnight Thursday with low-low prices throughout the store. Don’t be late for the After Thanksgiving Sales Event at Wal-Mart!
The women look lustfully at the TV, and then each other.
MAYBELLE
I’ll bring the coffee. Amy, bring lawn chairs.
BLACKOUT:
The battle continues apace; tonight we’re joined by a new warrior. Fresh-faced and unscathed from previous battles, will Peter Rogers kill or cower, fight or flee?
This week’s theme is brought to us by one of our legion of fans: horrible family holidays.
Next week, in honor of the orgy of food and retail shopping, the theme will be…Oprah!!!
If you want to play along, write a sketch and send a link to it to sketchwar at dreamloom.com. And be sure to come back on Friday for fun, fun, fun!
Blogging buddy @tjonsek suggested this week’s theme in comments: horrible family holidays. I didn’t have to reach too deep into my bag of painful, poorly suppressed memories to pull this sketch out. Still rubs me raw.
You know of course that comedy often requires painting in broad strokes and exaggerating. Comedy in real life is much more subtle because people aren’t caricatures. That’s good, right? I mean, it would *suck* if there were actually people like these in the real world. Can you imagine actually having a mother like Miriam? Can you imagine the psychic damage that would do? Can you imagine how twisted that would make someone?
Come back later for a recap with links to the other sketches and information on submitting for next week. And if you’ve got a theme you’d like to see us try out for next week, leave it in comments here, or on one of the other blogs when their sketches are up.
Chinatown Christmas
INT. CAR – DAY
The rain is pouring from the leaden sky in buckets on an unseasonably warm Christmas day. NOAH, late 20s, attentively pilots a sturdy SUV through heavy New York traffic. His father GERRY, 50s and balding, rides shotgun offering “helpful” tips. In the back sit MIRIAM, the matriarch of the ROSEN clan, looking older and feebler than her mid-50s warrant, HANNAH, Noah’s college-age sister, and in the middle, BECKY. With her perky nose, blond hair, and blue eyes, Noah’s fiancee looks as out of place as a slice of ham between two pieces of marble rye.
MIRIAM
Hop Kee is good. You liked Hop Kee last time, right Gerry?
GERRY
That’s the one with the Hot and Sour I like–
MIRIAM
–No. That’s Congee. Hop Kee’s the one where the hostess always gives you the extra shrimp roll, like I’m not supposed to know she’s flirting?
NOAH
Ma, we’re going to Wo Hop, right?
MIRIAM
Yeah, yeah. I was just saying, Hop Kee’s good too. You should ever decide to come back and visit, we could go there, nu? It’s just down the street.
NOAH
Ma, we’re visiting right now.
Miriam pats Becky on the knee.
MIRIAM
And we’re so glad the two of you are here. Aren’t we glad, Gerry?
GERRY
Yeah, sure.
(on traffic)
You want the right lane. It’s clearer. You can get around two, maybe three of these
(yelling, as though the other drivers can hear)
slowpokes!
Noah moves aggressively to the right and accelerates. He is his father’s son.
BECKY
Hannah. What are you taking next semester?
HANNAH
Sight and Sound Studio and Documentary, the Femme Fatale in the films of Roman Polanski, and Spanish.
GERRY
My little baby’s going to be a big filmmaker someday.
HANNAH
Dad…
GERRY
Going to walk down that red carpet.
HANNAH
Dad…
MIRIAM
Muriel Goldstein’s boy wanted to be in pictures. But he’s still waiting tables, waiting to be a star. Breaks poor Muriel’s heart. He could have gone to Columbia Medical School, but that wasn’t good enough for him.
NOAH
Barry Goldstein failed high school biology. Three times.
MIRIAM
I’m just saying–
HANNAH
–You’re just saying I’m going to fail, aren’t you ma?
MIRIAM
Of course not, dear. I just think you could get a law degree first, and then try with your moviemaking. Is it too much to ask that one of my babies doesn’t go hungry?
NOAH
Ma! I’m not going hungry. I’m doing just fine.
GERRY
(on traffic)
You’re taking the Cross Island?
NOAH
Yeah, that’s the way I always go.
GERRY
Well, that’s a fine way, I guess, but the Van Wyck’s faster. But you’re driving. Don’t mind me.
(beat)
The middle lane’s open.
MIRIAM
Becky!
Becky jumps. Her attempt to become invisible failed.
BECKY
Yes, ma’am?
MIRIAM
Don’t call me ma’am, dear. Just call me Miriam. Or mom. Is it too soon for that?
BECKY
No, ma’am. I mean Miriam. I mean…
GERRY
You’re spooking the poor girl, Miriam.
MIRIAM
What? I just told her to call me ‘mom’. I’m welcoming. Who’s spooking?
HANNAH
You are. I don’t even want to call you ‘mom’ most of the time.
GERRY
The turn for the Van Wyck is coming up if you change your mind.
BECKY
How much longer?
EXT. STREET – DAY
The buckets of rain have turned to barrelfuls. Gerry, Miriam, and Hannah stand under Gerry’s huge umbrella, trying to stay dry, as they talk to Noah through the window.
GERRY
You know where the garage is, right? Two blocks down and one over. You sure you don’t want me to park it?
NOAH
No, that’s alright. You three go in and get us a table. Becky and I will be back in a few.
GERRY
You want the umbrella, at least?
NOAH
Uh, it looks like it’s clearing up.
Lightning splits the sky.
INT. CAR – DAY
Noah rolls up the window and pulls from the curb.
NOAH
I figured you could use a few minutes to catch your breath before dinner.
BECKY
Thanks. How do you do it?
NOAH
What?
BECKY
Not be crazy?
INT. RESTAURANT LOBBY – DAY
There’s a small crowd at the front desk. Miriam pushes her way to the front.
MIRIAM
Excuse me? Excuse me?! Can we get some help, please?
HOSTESS
How many?
MIRIAM
Excuse me?
HOSTESS
How many in your party?
MIRIAM
Five.
HOSTESS
20 minutes.
Miriam ponders for a second and then…
MIRIAM
Come on. Let’s go to Hop Kee.
HANNAH
But Noah and Becky are expecting us to be here.
MIRIAM
We talked about both. He’s a smart boy. He’ll figure it out.
INT. RESTAURANT – DAY
Hop Kee. Noah and Becky are soaked through. Miriam, Gerry, and Hannah sit in front of many plat
es of demolished food.
NOAH
I thought we were meeting at Wo Hop?
MIRIAM
We talked about both, nu?
BLACKOUT: