Category: Sketches

Sketch Entries from the warriors

  • FSW: We Three Kings…

    The gods of writing have pretty much conspried against me getting anything out before Friday these days. I’m just thankful for that west-coast midnight deadline 🙂
    Our newest sketch warrior suggested the theme last week: Learning Something New About History.
    I figured I’d jump the gun and get into the Christmas spirit as well.
    Richard took us to school about Harry Truman – no word from Peter yet. I’ll update when others report in for battle.
    But for now, these three kings of orient are possibly trying to smoke a rubber cigar:
    ___________________________________________________________________
    EXT. DESERT MUD HUT – NIGHT
    BALTHASAR, MELCHIOR and CASPAR all stare up into the night sky

    BALTHASAR
    Oh yeah – that’s definitely an “a-Messiah-is-born” star. No doubt about it.

    MELCHIOR
    It’s so bright.

    CASPAR
    Wow….just…..wow.

    MELCHIOR
    We should probably go inside…we’re probably damaging our eyes staring at it.

    CASPAR
    We should, like, follow that star man.

    BALTHASAR
    Caspar you are such a goddamn hippie.

    CASPAR
    Oh come on man…if there’s a baby messiah under that thing, like the prophecies say, we should go and meet it, introduce ourselves.

    BALTHASAR
    Hmmmmm…3 wise men, meeting a baby with a big future…not bad. Nice…heart-warming.

    MELCHIOR
    We should wait and leave in the morning. Riding a camel in the dark is definitely not wise.

    BALTHASAR
    Think we can get some press to meet us there? Judean Sun Times, maybe The Daily Roman?

    CASPAR
    Balthasar, not everything is about publicity man! Some things are about love…sharing, connecting with people, bringing the world together.

    MELCHIOR
    As long as I don’t have to hug the baby…they’re very germy.

    CASPAR
    We just go, meet the new messiah, maybe give them some new baby gifts…

    MELCHIOR
    Ooo! I’ve got the perfect thing…a vaporizer. It’s so dry in the desert. And dusty! Oy!

    CASPAR
    I saw this really cool gourd rattle that would be good, and I can put together some medicinal herbs for the baby, you know, for like when he gets colicy, or starts teething…write out some instructions for the new mommy. I think that could be helpful.

    BALTHASAR
    Oh….I know. I’m bringing gold. A big bag of gold.

    MELCHIOR and CASPAR pause, and stare at BALTHASAR

    MELCHIOR
    You bastard.

    CASPAR
    Oh man…you just don’t get it.

    BALTHASAR
    What? They can just buy whatever they need. Or hold on to it, put it in the messiah‘s college fund.

    MELCHIOR
    Well, I can’t bring a vaporizer if you’re bringing gold. I’d look like a schmuck.

    CASPAR
    Balthy, Melchior and I are happy your self-help scroll became a such a big seller. But would you please stop flaunting it.

    BALTHASAR
    Did you hear it’s getting released in Egyptian?

    CASPAR
    Do you hear yourself, man? You want to give a bag of gold to a baby, to the king of kings….the son of God. What is he going to do with gold?

    MELCHIOR
    A baby could choke on those coins…and they’re definitely not sanitary. Who knows where they’ve been. Dirty Romans!

    BALTHASAR
    Look, if he’s the song of God, why bring him anything anyway, right? Not like he needs something his Dad can’t give him.

    CASPAR
    That’s not the point man….we give him stuff that says “hey, welcome to the mortal plane…thanks for coming, we want to make you more at home so you stay a while”

    MELCHIOR
    Vaporizers make desert air much more breathable.

    CASPAR
    Maybe some personal stuff….stuff From the heart.

    BALTHASAR
    My money is personal. I made it, and I’m very attached to it. Tis is my way of saying “I’ve been fortunate, and I’m happy to give a little back”

    MELCHIOR
    You’re saying “I’m a rich bastard who sucks up to deities” is what you’re saying.

    BALTHASAR
    God gave me the wisdom to write a best-selling self-help scroll. Sue me if I want to give something to his offspring as a thank you for what he gave me.

    MELCHIOR
    God would throw up if he thought he contributed to “He’s Just Not That Into Jews”. You want to give something? Give him your promise to never write again. There’s a gift he can use!

    BALTHASAR
    You two have been riding my robe-tails for years. Go ahead admit it – you are so jealous that I’m getting rich and famous, and you can’t even get a Roman research grant.

    MELCHIOR
    That is not fair! You know those grants are biased against non-latin speakers.

    CASPAR
    Oh man…you two are bumming me out so bad right now.

    MELCHIOR
    Happy now? You know how sensitive he is. I’m sorry Caspar. I shouldn’t let him get to me.

    CASPAR
    It’s alright Melchie. Balthy, maybe you should reconsider…give them something a little less pretentious, more appropriate for a baby. How about a puppy?

    MELCHIOR
    Or maybe, I don’t know, something you could strap to the side of a donkey that doesn’t say “I have a big exposed bag of gold – please conk me on the head with a rock and steal it.”

    BALTHASAR
    Look, I’ll give what I want to give, and you give whatever you want to…and can afford to give.

    CASPAR and MELCHIOR look at each other, resigned.

    CASPAR
    Hey Melchie, what do you think of frankincense? You know, as a present for the baby messiah?

    MELCHIOR
    Oh good choice Caspar. Very nice.

    BALTHASAR
    What’s that?

    CASPAR
    Oh man…it’s like this really special type of incense. All natural, homeopathic, and a very unique scent. I know, like, rich people really dig it these days, for their huts and throne rooms and stuff, but my friend Raul makes most of it, so I could probably get a bunch for cheap.

    MELCHIOR
    You know, I bet I could get a nice bottle of myrrh from Hiram down at the apothecary. He owes me for tutoring his daughter in Sanskrit.

    CASPAR
    Oh that’s a great idea man!

    BALTHASAR
    Myrrh? I’ve never heard of myrrh.

    CASPAR
    It’s a healing balm.

    MELCHIOR
    Like Neosporin, but for rich-people. It’s got a real nice smell, and everyone thinks it’s exotic because of the name. They did some very nice branding on Myrrh.

    BALTHASAR
    I’ve never heard of frankincense or myrrh. I bet most people haven’t.

    CASPAR
    Probably not.

    MELCHIOR
    Which will make them seem more special, and personal. Not cold, common and ordinary like gold….I mean, anybody can get gold, right?

    BALTHASAR
    Yeah, but everybody KNOWS what gold is. Years from now people will still remember that one wise man gave the messiah baby gold.

    CASPAR
    Yeah, but they’ll talk about the frankincense and the myrrh, since those are like, rare and mysterious…they’ll, like, have to go look those up.

    MELCHIOR
    And at dinner parties they’ll be like “well, one of them gave gold, but what’s frankincense?”

    CASPAR
    “What’s Myrrh?”

    MELCHIOR
    Those will be what everybody talks about.

    CASPAR
    Forever.

    MELCHIOR
    People just can’t resist a little mystery, or talking about exotic things, can they?

    CASPAR
    Nope. Just in their nature.

    BALTHASAR looks in angry disbelief at CASPAR and MELCHIOR. The storms off stage.

    CASPAR
    Hey Balthy, where you going man?

    BALTHASAR (O.S.)
    To find a fucking puppy!

    CASPAR
    (to MELCHIOR)
    You’re still going with the vaporizer, right?

    MELCHIOR
    Never considered myrrh for a second. You?

    CASPAR
    They’d arrest me on sight for giving frankincense to a baby. But I got a little back in the hut….want to smoke some and stare at the messiah star?

    MELCHIOR
    Why not. My eyes could stand a little more damage.

    MELCHIOR and CASPAR exit

    FADE TO BLACK.

  • FSW: The Truth About Harry

    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:

  • FSW: Oprah Edition

    Annnnnnnndddd coming in just under the wire…

    It’s Friday Sketch War….and if you’re going to come to a war, it’s nice to be fashionably late (hey, it worked for the U.S. in both world wars, right???).

    Anyway here’s my foray into the world of Oprah…and her friends.

    Peter put the Big O in Oprah for us and Richard gave us some lovely homemade gifts

    Not sure who’s handling our theme for next week, but following Oprah is gonna be a tough act.
    But for now…….heeeeeeeerrrrreeeeeee’sssssssss OPRAH!
    ___________________________________________________________________

    INT. OPRAH’S OFFICE – DAY
    A large opulent office with pictures of Oprah hanging on every wall. The door opens and here comes the woman herself, followed by her assistant HENRY, who reads off a clipboard.

    HENRY
    …and Maria confirmed her interview for next Thursday, but she’s coming solo, no Nick. Michelle Obama agreed to write the “First Day as First Lady”article for “O” in January, and she confirmed you have 3 VIP tickets to the inaugural ball.

    OPRAH
    That’s fabulous Henry. Well done! Thank you so much – you have no idea how much I appreciate everything you do for me.

    HENRY
    It’s just nice to be part of it all Ms. Winfrey.

    OPRAH
    Now Henry, you’re my friend…I am never “Ms. Winfrey” to my friends.

    HENRY
    Alright…..Oprah. Oh heck – I’ll just call you “O”!
    (giggles)
    I’m going to check on the fundraiser invites – I heard “The Donald” RSVP’d yes this time!

    OPRAH
    Fabulous Henry. Thank you so much!

    HENRY beams as her leaves. OPRAH sits down at her desk and starts going through the various memos and letters sitting there. An electrical crackle is heard outside the door, and light flashes can be seen beneath it. Smoke starts coming under the door right before the door bursts open and T101 walks in carrying an extremely large multi-barreled machine gun. He steps into the room and slams the door closed behind him and locks it.

    OPRAH
    Excuse me…can I help you?

    T101
    (in an Austian-accented stiff mechanical voice)
    I am a Cyberdyne systems Terminator model 101. I have been sent back in time to terminate you, and stop from destroying the future.

    OPRAH
    Destroying the future? Honey, are you sure it’s me you’re looking for?

    T101
    Are you talk show host and media magnate Oprah Winfrey?

    OPRAH
    Yes, I am.

    T101
    Then you are the my target. I must destroy you.

    OPRAH
    Now wait a minute…there must be some mistake. Do you know anything about me?

    T101
    Oprah Gail Winfrey, born January 29, 1954 in Kosciusko, Mississippi, host of an internationally syndicated talk show, magazine publisher, influential book critic, and philanthropist.

    OPRAH
    Philanthropist – do you know what that means?

    T101
    One who actively engages in efforts to promote human welfare through actions and or charitable donations.

    OPRAH
    Right…I try to help people, with everything I do. My magazine is dedicated to things that make people’s lives better. I recommend books that can positively affect people’s lives. I’ve founded schools. I discovered Dr. Phil. Even my interviews help celebrities deal with issues. I couldn’t possibly hurt people. You must have me confused with someone else.

    T101
    May 23, 2005 – you interview actor Tom Cruise. Your therapeutic interview style emboldens him to jump up and down on your sofa like a child. Over the next 4 years his inhibitions continue to disappear and he begins making outrageous claims about the healing powers of Scientology. On April 25, 2009, his Scientology powers fully manifest. By the end of 2009, he eradicates all mental illness from the planet and Tom Cruise turns his attention to other illnesses. June 5 2010, Tom Cruise cures the last sick person on the plane. Pharmaceutical companies and health care providers are bankrupted, and the medical-industrial complex is destroyed creating massive financial upheaval. Tom Cruise appoints himself surgeon general of the galaxy then swears undying loyalty to you for unleashing his true potential. He creates an army of scientology-powered healers, placing you in total control of the world’s mental and physical health.

    OPRAH
    Tom’s little crazy, but disease becomes a thing of the past – that’s amazing! How can that be…

    T101
    In 2009, the world is on the brink complete financial collapse. The big three American automakers border in complete self-destruction. On May 22nd, 2009, you arrange a secret meeting between yourself and the heads of GM, Ford and Chrysler. Three days later, every household in the world is told to look under their favorite chair. Each finds a key and a note that says “You get a car!”. May 25th, 2009 – millions around the world pick up their free american-made car Gasoline sales soar, and the low Detroit quality standards force all vehicle recipients to seek professional service. Within 30 days, the global economy is booming, and automakers see record profits from replacement parts and mechanics fees. The big 3 automakers and OPEC declare loyalty to you.

    OPRAH
    Doesn’t sound like there’s anything wrong with that. People who can’t afford cars get them, the world’s economy is fixed, automakers are saved….everyone’s happy.

    T101
    On August 5th, 2011 the world enters a new ice age. Vehicle emissions block 68% of the earth’s normal sunlight. No one is depressed due to the efforts of Tom Cruise’s Scientology corps.

    OPRAH
    Okay. I see where that could have been handled better, but I promise that I will…

    T101
    On November 6th, 2012 Barack Obama wins his second presidential term with 89% of the popular vote. On December 21st, 2012 – the day ancient Mayans predicted would be the end of the world, President Obama gives a press conference outlining his plan to address the ice age. It is preempted by a CNN report showing the Mayan god of death, Cizin, rising from his dormant underground state and laying waste to Mexico city. President Obama takes flight in front of the White House press corps, revealing himself to be a highly advanced robot. He arrives in Mexico City and fights Cizin. He defeats Cizin. Soon after an anonymous sour
    ce coms forward with proof that he created by scientists working in a secret laboratory at “O” magazine.

    OPRAH
    That’s impossible…no one knows about that lab…how do you..

    T101
    I am from the future. President Obama has been acting on your commands for his entire political life. You become the most powerful person on the planet controlling health care, the economy, and the United States. On January 27th, 2012, you are appointed queen of the world. Howard Stern commits suicide. After 20 years, most of the planet is well adjusted, exercising regularly and eating a sensible diet. Anyone who refuses to get in touch with their feelings is hunted down and sent to inner-child rehabilitation camps. A small group of rebels storm the “O” robotics lab, and under poor conditions create the terminators to stop you and your enforcers.

    OPRAH
    I don’t think you want to stop me…I think you need….

    OPRAH dives for her desk and hits a button. A panel in the wall behind her opens up, and Dr. Phil marches out with a large gun

    DR. PHIL
    …a big dose of reality son!

    T101 fires and blows Dr. Phil’s head off. It sputters and sparks.

    T101
    I was forewarned about your Dr. Phil robot. Now, I must kill you.

    OPRAH
    Wait….you don’t have to be this way, a mindless killer. There’s a part of you that feels regret and sorrow for me.

    T101
    I have now feelings. I am a machine. Your therapeutic questioning cannot affect me.

    OPRAH
    Alright. You know yourself best. Just let me give you a last present – a book I’m reviewing.

    OPRAH picks up a book off her desk and tosses it to T101

    T101
    (reading the book title)
    “You Are Not A Machine – reclaiming your humanity”. You’re attempt at distraction is wasted on….
    (pausing as he skims through the book)
    I have felt alone like this….how the author know?

    OPRAH has pulled out a bazooka from under her desk and she shoots T101 with it. He explodes in a ball fire. Parts fall smoldering everywhere. The phone on the desk buzzes. OPRAH picks it up.

    HENRY (on phone)
    O? What was that noise? Are you alright?

    OPRAH
    I’m fine Henry. It was just another terminator. Have security check that time-travel shield around the building, I don’t think it’s working. And have the lab send up another Dr. Phil ASAP.

    HENRY (on phone)
    Right away O.

    OPRAH hangs up the phone, then redials

    OPRAH
    Barack – this is Big O…access code 41542. Activate Mayan God combat protocols…we’re going to update your database.

    FADE OUT

  • FSW: Oprah’s Favorite Things

    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:

  • FSW: Oprah Edition (Peter’s Entry)

    Friday Sketch War
    Oprah Edition
    “No Accounting for Taste”

    FADE IN:

    INT. LIVING ROOM – NIGHT

    A typical college apartment. MATTHEW (uptight college kid) sits on a couch, picks up a remote, and uses it to turn on an entertainment center. A Pirates of the Caribbean DVD case sits nearby.

    ON TV

    Oprah Winfrey’s talk show returns from commercial. The TV chiron reads, “I can’t control my teenage daughters!”

    BACK ON MATTHEW

    Matthew picks up the DVD case, puzzled. Looks at it, looks at the TV. Meanwhile, we hear the AUDIO from the TV…

    OPRAH (O.S., TV)

    Sandra, what’s the real problem you’ve had with your mom?

    SANDRA (O.S., TV)

    Mom doesn’t like that my sister and I just can’t keep our hands off each other.

    PORN MUSIC kicks in.

    Matthew is intrigued.

    OPRAH (O.S., TV)

    Hey… mind if I join you?

    Matthew lets out a little YELP of alarm and turns off the TV.

    INT. CHASE’S BEDROOM – NIGHT

    Typical messy undergrad bedroom. CHASE (mellow college kid) lies in bed. His outfit includes a belt.

    The room has a shelf of DVDs and two doors: one (closed) door leads to a closet, and one (open) door leads to the hallway. A wig and a magazine sit on the floor.

    Matthew tentatively enters from the hallway, holding a DVD labeled “Oprah: The Lost Nastysodes”.

    MATTHEW

    Chase, I think you got a couple of DVDs swapped.

    Chase gets up, picks up the DVD.

    CHASE

    Ooh. Yeah, that’s mine.

    Chase thumbs through the DVDs on the shelf. Matthew looks on.

    MATTHEW

    Chase, is that all Oprah-themed…

    CHASE

    It’s Oprah porn. What?

    MATTHEW

    That’s kind of a lot of it, isn’t it?

    CHASE

    It’s just the classy stuff.

    (off the DVD)

    These guys, they get the show down, and their Oprah impersonator is just — mmm!

    MATTHEW

    Oh. That’s good. Can I have my Pirates DVD back?

    CHASE

    You like this stuff? ‘cos if you want to get into Oprah porn…

    Chase opens the closet door, the inside of which features a bikini pinup with Oprah’s head crudely pasted on top of it.

    CHASE

    … I’m your guy.

    MATTHEW

    Oh god.

    CHASE

    Nothin’ to be ashamed of.

    Chase picks up the magazine, hands it to Matthew — the title reads “OhhhhhHHH! The magazine of Oprah-themed Adult Entertainment”.

    CHASE

    See? It’s a whole industry.

    MATTHEW

    That’s not right.

    CHASE

    Wait, I thought you liked The Color Purple.

    MATTHEW

    Yeah, but — wait, didn’t I loan you my copy?

    CHASE

    Want it back?

    Chase rummages through his bedsheets.

    MATTHEW

    No. I just want to watch Pirates of the Caribbean!

    Matthew trips on the wig. Sees it. Picks it up.

    MATTHEW

    This is an Oprah wig.

    Chase crosses to the hallway door, closes it.

    CHASE

    I don’t use it for anything weird.

    Matthew drops the wig.

    MATTHEW

    Ew!

    CHASE

    Don’t judge!

    MATTHEW

    But Oprah is like America’s mom!

    CHASE

    (aw, yeah)

    I know.

    Chase walks away from the hall door, revealing:

    A poster of an animé tentacle monster, again with Oprah’s face pasted on.

    Matthew freezes.

    CHASE

    Can’t look away, can you?

    Matthew exits in a hurry, and SLAMS the door behind him.

    CHASE

    Whew. Dodged that bullet.

    He pulls out a remote, presses a button.

    The Oprah posters roll up to reveal similar pin-ups with Matthew’s head posted on them.

    Chase puts on the wig. Takes off the belt.

    CHASE

    It’s fun time.

    Matthew re-enters.

    MATTHEW

    Look, Chase, could I just get my DVD —

    Matthew sees the new closet poster. Sees the wig. Sees the belt.

    CHASE

    Hi.

    Matthew exits.

    BLACKOUT.

  • FSW: Horrible Family Holidays Edition (Peter’s Entry)

    Friday Sketch War
    Horrible Family Holidays Edition
    “Ted’s Wake”

    FADE IN:

    INT. ELEVATOR LOBBY – NIGHT

    KATIE (27, black formalwear) paces in a posh elevator lobby, going over a handwritten speech.

    CROWD NOISES emanate from a closed door. Beside the door hangs a poster with a black-and-white photo of a scowling old man reads, “In Memoriam: Ted Reynaldo”. Beside the poster sits a chair.

    Christmas decorations adorn the walls.

    HOMER (23, black suit) breezes in through the door.

    HOMER

    Katie! ‘sup!

    No repsonse.

    HOMER

    Dad says it’s time to do the thing —

    The elevator BINGS. The door opens.

    KATIE

    Dad can wait. I —

    And in the elevator, is —

    HOMER

    Sandra!

    — SANDRA (23), pretty and cheerful. She and Homer kiss. Homer points her at the room.

    HOMER

    I’ll be there in a second.

    Sandra heads in.

    Off of Katie’s look —

    HOMER

    I met her last week. She’s, like, this really cool —

    KATIE

    And you invited her to Uncle Ted’s wake?

    Homer just grins.

    KATIE

    (to herself)

    Do I do the prayer —

    The elevator BINGS.

    KATIE

    — or just go straight to the speech?

    A small crowd of people pile out of the elevator, carrying what look like Muppets.

    HOMER

    ‘sup, guys!

    PUPPETEERS

    ‘sup, Homer!

    They go into the room. Off of Katie’s look —

    HOMER

    Sandra’s, like, part of this puppeteering troupe.

    KATIE

    What?

    HOMER

    They do puppet shows.

    KATIE

    No. Why are they here?

    HOMER

    I guess Sandra invited them.

    The NOISE from the room gets louder, more festive.

    KATIE

    Did you actually tell any of these people this was a wake?

    Elevator BINGS.

    HOMER

    I — hmm. I said it was catered. I definitely said it was a Christmas party.

    KATIE

    Oh god.

    HOMER

    Well technically, it’s a party, and it’s Christmastime, right?

    A couple of DELIVERYMEN show up, pushing kegs on dollies.

    DELIVERYMAN

    Um — the Puppet Place Players?

    HOMER

    In there.

    DELIVERYMAN

    Cool.

    They join the wake.

    The NOISE from the wake gets louder. MARIACHI MUSIC starts up.

    HOMER

    I guess I sort of told Sandra she could invite people, and they invited people —

    The elevator BINGS. A MOTLEY ASSORTMENT OF PARTYGOERS spill out.

    HOMER

    ‘sup guys — it’s in there.

    The partygoers cheer, join the wake.

    KATIE

    Who are they?

    Homer shrugs. Off of that —

    KATIE

    I can’t believe you did this to me! I —

    Stops. Goes to the door. Looks in the room. Returns to Homer.

    KATIE

    Mariachis? How did they even get in?

    HOMER

    Oh, there’s this freight elevator, and it’s awesome, like this moving cavern, and —

    Katie collapses in the chair, distraught.

    HOMER

    What?

    KATIE

    I know I didn’t exactly like the guy, and I know I’d rather cram things under my fingernails than give this big speech about how great he was, but I got stuck with putting this together and I just want to do one thing right for this family! Is that so much to ask?! And then you go and —

    The elevator BINGS yet again, the doors open —

    KATIE

    OH GOOD GOD WHAT NOW?!

    — and Katie finds herself face to face with a POLICE OFFICER standing in the elevator doorway.

    Awkward pause.

    HOMER

    ‘sup, officer? My sister’s kind of off her meds.

    KATIE

    Meds?!

    POLICE OFFICER

    We’ve had a noise complaint.

    KATIE

    Oh. Oh! Yeah, they’re right in there.

    POLICE OFFICER

    Thanks.

    The officer crosses to the door, opens it.

    Meanwhile, Katie darts into the elevator. She drags Homer in after her. The elevator closes.

    POLICE OFFICER

    Puppets!

    The officer joins the wake.

    FADE OUT.

  • FSW: Horrible Family Holiday edition

    Happy almost-Thanksgiving everyone!
    This weeks theme was:
    horrible family holidays
    It was graciously provided by @tjonsek, who suggested it on Richard’s blog. Speaking of Richard, he took us out for a lovely Holiday dinner in New York for his salvo.
    I decided to examine the origins of Holiday drama in America.
    And…if you’d like to suggest a theme for next week, , leave it in comments here, or on one of the other blogs.
    Meanwhile, in the early 1600’s……
    ___________________________________________________________________
    INT. RUSTIC PILGRIM LODGE – DAY
    We’re inside a cabin in Plymouth in the days of the pilgrims. The furniture is all rough hewn wood, and various herbs are hanging from the ceiling drying. There’s a knock on the front door and MILES enters, dressed in full traditional pilgrim garb.

    MILES
    The pie looks fine. Just scrape the charred part off the top and no one will know the difference.

    MILES answers the door. Two American Indians in traditional garb, MASSOTIHAN and his wife POWANIQUA stand in the doorway carrying a few baskets. The sounds of squealing children can be heard outside behind them.

    MILES
    Heeeeeyyyy!!! Masso! What’s up, my savage?

    MILES and MASSOTIHAN go through and elaborate macho handshake \ chest bump \ grunting ritual

    MILES (CONT)
    Happy Second Thanksgiving Buddy!
    (to PRISCILLA offstage)
    Hey Babycakes, shake a leg…the Moonwolves are here!

    PRISCILLA (O.S.)
    Coming.

    MILES
    Come on in…make yourselves at home.
    (shouting out the front door)
    Hey Tobias, Dorothy…play nice with the Moonwolf kids, okay? No “Christians and heathens”, okay?

    CHILDREN
    (from off)
    Awwwwwww

    MILES
    (closes the door)
    Wow….it’s getting cold out there. Fucking Plymouth huh? Love the foliage, hate the cold.

    MASSOTIHAN
    Try living in a tent in this crap. Why you white guys wanted to have the first Thanksgiving outside last year is a mystery to me.

    MILES
    Hey….we’re European, we never spent any time outside before coming here. We were all hopped up on the “we escaped religious persecution AND survived our first year in the new world” thing, know what I mean? Any problems getting here?

    POWANIQUA
    We would have been here 30 minutes ago if someone wasn’t absolutely positive it was a left at the burned out oak.

    POWANIQUA shoots a glare at MASSOTIHAN

    MASSOTIHAN
    I’ve only rode over here once before, and that was in spring.

    MILES
    (to POWANIQUA)
    You must be Mrs. Moonwolf. I’m Miles Dogood. It’s nice to finally meet you. Masso talks about you whenever we’re in a hunting party together.

    MILES shakes POWANIQUA’s hand

    POWANIQUA
    Just call me ‘Pow’. We’ll be here all day if you always use my full name.

    MILES
    Nice furs…can I take those for you?

    MASSOTIHAN and POWANIQUA take off their fur wraps and hand them to MILES, who takes them offstage. MASSOTIHAN and POWANIQUAN set their parcels of food on the table.

    MASSOTIHAN
    I tell ya’, you white guys sure don’t know shit about wilderness living, but you got that the naming thing right. Short first name, long last name, call everyone by their first name – if that’s too long you just call someone by an even shorter version of their name…so much easier than these long-ass indian names. Just role call for tribal council meetings takes 4 hours.

    MILES re-enters and walks over to see what’s on the table.

    MILES
    Mmmmm…smells good. Corn?

    POWANIQUA
    Maize.

    MILES
    Oh right…sorry….forgot.

    MASSOTIHAN
    There’s maize bread, creamed maize, and maize on the cob. She’s been cooking all week.

    MILES
    That’s very nice of you Pow. You shouldn’t have gone to all that trouble.

    PRISCILLA enters, carrying a mug. She appears to be a little tipsy.

    PRISCILLA
    (to MILES)
    I’ve been cooking all week too…don’t remember hearing you say I shouldn’t go to all that trouble.

    MILES
    Hey honey…you remember Massotihan Moonwolf, from the hunting parties?

    PRISCILLA
    Oh yeah…you ride horses with your shirt off, right?

    MASSOTIHAN
    Sometimes, in summer. It can get hot on those hunts.

    PRISCILLA
    Oh I bet it does…you get pretty sweaty too. Do you workout, or are you just naturally muscular?
    MASSOTIHAN
    I play a lot of lacrosse.

    PRISCILLA
    So you’re good with a long stick huh?

    MILES
    (ushering PRISCILLA away from MASSOTIHAN)
    And this is his wife Powaniqua – ‘Pow’ for short.

    PRISCILLA
    Well aren’t you a cute young thing…Pow, WOW! HAHAHA

    MILES
    Let’s have a seat while dinner finishes cooking.

    PRISCILLA
    “Pow Wow”…get it? God that’s funny.

    MILES
    (to PRISCILLA)
    I think you’ve had eno
    ugh ale, turtledove.

    MILES tries to take PRISCILLA’s mug away

    PRISCILLA
    Just try it.

    MILES backs off and sits down. An uneasy quiet settles over the room. Priscilla makes a few subtle flirty gestures towards MASSOTIHAN, who looks uncomfortable. When MILES sees her she looks indignant, and just sips more ale. POWANIQUA shoots a few looks at MASSOTIHAN who gives her an “it’s not my fault” gesture right back.

    MASSOTIHAN
    Something smells good. Wild turkey?

    MILES
    Oh yeah….big bastard too. Shot it myself…just me and the old blunderbus, snuck up on that big bird and BLAMMO!!! One roaster.

    PRISCILLA
    (to herself)
    Only retarded turkey in Massachusetts.

    MILES
    What’s happening in the Wampanoag camp these days?

    MASSOTIHAN
    My father-in-law is running for chief again.

    POWANIQUA
    It’d be Daddy’s third term.

    MILES
    Nice.

    MASSOTIHAN
    He keeps saying he can get me on the tribal council, but I don’t know if I’m cut out for politics.

    MILES
    I’m with you there….I’m more a man of action myself.

    PRISCILLA
    Action my ass.

    MILES
    The church…that’s where the big money is, if you’re a self starter. Go out, convert people, build a congregation, develop your own zealots. Great franchise opportunities.

    PRISCILLA
    Miles could have been a town elder by now, but SOMEONE didn’t want to burn that witch last May.

    MILES
    They never proved she was a witch.

    PRISCILLA
    They threw her in a river and she floated! Helllloooooo!!!

    MILES
    It was a stream…it was six inches deep!

    PRISCILLA
    Pussy.

    POWANIQUA
    Europeans have really mixed feelings about magic, don’t they? We’ve always been supportive of magic people like our medicine man…

    PRISCILLA
    Just butt of out this, Missy Pow-Now-Brown-Cow, okay?

    POWANIQUA
    I was just saying…

    PRISCILLA
    Zip-it, you skinny buckskin-wearing bitch.

    POWANIQUA
    Well…I never….I…..

    POWANIQUA runs out the front door crying.

    MASSOTIHAN
    Honey, wait….

    MASSOTIHAN runs after her

    PRISCILLA
    Forget the whiny squaw, Squanto. Mama’s got your spirit quest right here!

    MILES
    Priscilla!

    PRISCILLA
    (running over to the door shouting after MASSOTIHAN)
    Once you go white, you never go back!!!

    MILES
    PRISCILLA!!!

    PRISCILLA
    I’ll give you something to be thankful for…lets’ lose that nobility, noble savage!
    (clapping hand over her mouth like an indian war whoop)
    Whoo whoo whoo whoo whoo whoo
    MILES
    Priscilla close that door and get over here right now or I will get the god damned village exorcist, I shit you not!!
    PRISCILLA shuts the door and walks back into the room, and sits.

    MILES (CONT)
    Every time…EVERY time you get a little too much ale in you, you get mean and completely out of control.

    PRISCILLA
    I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me. It’s just the holidays…I start missing my family, civilized cities, currency, not having bears in the front yard….

    MILES
    I know honey.

    PRISCILLA
    And we haven’t been…fruitful…in so long.

    MILES
    We live in a one bedroom cabin with 2 kids and no doors Priscilla.

    PRISCILLA
    I know. It just gets to me sometimes.

    MILES hugs her.

    MILES
    Look….why don’t you go make some tea, and let the ale wear off a bit, okay? I’ll go find Masso and Pow and make peace, and then we’ll all have a great Thanksgiving dinner, okay? And after, we’ll figure out how soon we can build a second bedroom.

    PRISCILLA
    Alright honey. I’m sorry. Really.

    MILES hugs PRISCILLA again, then she goes off into the kitchen. The front door opens and MASSOTIHAN re-enters, the sounds of screaming kids playing behind him. MILES runs to the door and shouts out.

    MILES
    (to the kids outside)
    HEY!!! KEEP IT DOWN OUT THERE!!! YOU SOUND LIKE A BUNCH OF WILD INDIANS!!!!

    MASSOTIHAN gives MILES a pissed off look

    MILES
    It’s just an expression.

    MASSOTIHAN
    Sure….no problem. I tell my kids all the time to stop acting like anal-retentive puritans.

    MILES
    Okay…sorry. I’ll never say that again, okay? Truce?

    MASSOTIHAN nods

    MILES (CONT)
    How’s Pow?

    MASSOTIHAN
    She’s pissed but she’ll be fine…she’ll be back, she just needs a few minutes.

    MILES
    Good…Priscilla’s sobering up in the kitchen. Look, I’m sorry about all this.

    MILES closes the door. MILES and MASSOTIHAN sit down exhausted in the room.

    MILES
    I thought we’d squeezed all the drama out of this holiday last year, at the first one.

    MASSOTIHAN
    Nope. Trust me – we’ve had feasts for thousands of years. There’s always been drama at these damn things. The elders tell tales of holiday drama passed down from the last ice age.

    MILES
    Does it ever get better?

    MASSOTIHAN
    Nope. People keep trying though. Year after year…”maybe this year will be different”….”maybe next year will be different”. But it never will be.

    MILES
    So how do you guys get through these things without going nuts?

    MASSOTIHAN looks around to see if anyone’s looking, then pulls a peace pipe out of his tunic.

    MASSOTIHAN
    Let’s just celebrate the harvest brother….know what I mean?

    MILES
    Harvest?

    MASSOTIHAN
    Hell yeah….had a bumper crop of Cape Cod Wowee, you feel me?

    MILES
    Now you’re talkin’ my red skinned brother. Let’s sneak out back and make some peace.

    MASSOTIHA
    N and MILES get up, do a fist bump and head out the front door

    MILES (CONT)
    Oh Lord, we thank thee DEEPLY for this bounty we are about to receive….

    FADE OUT.

  • FSW: Chinatown Christmas

    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:

  • FSW: Autumn Edition

    Nothing like coming in under the wire! This week got unexpectedly crazy, but neither corporate machinations, travel plans, unexpected improv workouts nor the cranky elderly can keep me from my appointed sketch!!!

    Richard gave us “Autumn” as our theme for the week – and Autumn years was what jumped to mind. So below is my ode to “raging against the dying of the light”. Richard gave us a lovely trip through the Autumn foliage. No word from other combtants yet.

    Theme duties will probably fall to me…unless 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 (no pressure :).

    ________________________________________________________________

    INT. RETIREMENT HOME COMMON ROOM – DAY
    JESSIE sits in a comfy chair next to her grandfather, WILBUR, well into his 80’s. A walker is also nearby.

    JESSSIE
    (showing WILBUR a photo)
    And this was when we went to that petting zoo out near Sturbridge, Grandpa. Danny just loved those goats.

    WILBUR
    You know, ke looks so much like your dad at that age. He’s 3 now?

    JESSSIE
    Three and a half…and he makes sure everyone knows about the half.

    WILBUR
    He’s adorable. I want to see him more soon, when my hip is better and I…

    2 elderly men and one woman, (ED, LES, and FANNY) all wearing red bandanas, roll by slowly in pimped-out wheelchairs (glow lights, spinners on the wheels, bass-thumping Sinatra songs, etc). Each has a can of Ensure in their wheelchair cupholder, and they sip it from time to time like taking a hit off a forty. They stare at WILBUR and JESSIE as slowly roll by. WILBUR takes notice as Jessie pulls out another photo.

    JESSSIE
    (pulling out another photo)
    Oh…and here he is pulling the goat’s tail.

    WILBUR starts to get up

    WILBUR
    Listen honey, you need to go….now.

    JESSSIE
    I just got here Grandpa Wilbur.

    WILBUR
    I know, I’m sorry…I’ll look at those pictures another time, but right now you’ve got to go.

    JESSSIE
    Is something wrong Grandpa?

    WILBUR
    Shut up and leave…now…please!!!

    JESSSIE
    Oh…okay. I’ll email you the rest of those photos Grandpa Wilbur.

    WILBUR
    Fine…whatever…

    JESSIE starts to leave through a side door, looking back at WILBUR as she goes. Just as she gets to the door, LES wheels in and blocks her way.

    LES
    Going somewhere, missy??

    LES wheels in slowly herding JESSIE back into the room. JESSIE goes for another aide door, where FANNY pulls in blocking her way.

    FANNY
    No hurry, child….sit a spell….

    FANNY wheels forward herding Jessie into the middle of the room as well. So JESSIE tries to exit through the upstage door. ED wheels in to block her.

    ED
    Well, well, well….looks like Wilbur has himself a visitor.

    ED herds JESSIE back into the room. LES and FANNY join him, and the three starting wheeling in a circle around JESSIE.

    WILBUR
    That’s my granddaughter E-Dog. She’s just leaving.

    ED
    Nonsense…pretty little thing like that. I bet she has all kinds of stories to share about your great grandkids. Have a seat my dear.

    JESSSIE
    I think I really should be going.

    ED pulls out an automatic handgun.

    ED
    Respect your elders bitch, or I will pop a cap in your ass, you feel me?

    JESSIE sees the gun and slowly sits back down in the comfy chair. LES and FANNY laugh, in phlegmy elderly way.

    ED
    There now, isn’t that better.

    WILBUR
    Look E-Dog, I was going to find you right after Jessie left.

    ED
    Here that posse….Wilbur was just gonna come see us. Ain’t that convenient.

    FANNY
    Sounds like he’s fibbing to me E-Dog.

    JESSSIE
    Exuse me, but who are you people.

    LES
    Watch your tone, missy. You don’t know who you’re messing with.

    ED
    We’re the E-Wing Incontinentals.

    FANNY
    The toughest gang in Shady Oaks.

    LES
    Tougher than the Cripples or the Bleeders.

    ED
    We run this place. And your Grandpa here is behind on his tributes to us.

    JESSSIE
    Look if it’s money you want…

    ED
    What we gonna do with money in here, huh? We can’t buy nothin’, cause there ain’t no place to buy nothin’.

    LES
    We need something better than money…something with some real purchasing power, something we can trade inside.

    FANNY
    Butterscotches.

    ED
    Butterscotch is the really currency in hear…you want afghans, slippers, extra pudding, knitted slippers….butterscotch is gold baby.

    LES
    Word

    WILBUR
    Look E-Dog, I was going to get some…my hip is just taking longer to heal than I thought, that’s all.

    ED
    You got a visitor right there Wilbur….you couldn’t phone and have her bring some?

    FANNY
    Like a big bag…Walgreen’s has them on sale.

    LES
    $3.99 for 3.

    ED
    Yeah Wilbur…how come you didn’t ask her to bring some?

    JESSSIE
    He’s diabetic. I would never bring him candy unless it was that sugar free kind.

    LES
    Sugar free tastes like shit.

    FANNY
    Gives me the toots.

    JESSSIE
    Are you seriously waving a gun at people demanding butterscotches? Are you insane.

    LES
    Watch yourself missy!

    FANNY
    Respect your elders, girly girl!

    JESSSIE
    How about earning my respect. You should know better than to point a gun at someone. You pull that on the wrong person and you could get killed.

    ED
    So what. We ain’t got no future in here.

    LES
    Damn straihgt E-dog.

    ED
    We got what, 10, 20 years left to live? Live fast…

    FANNY
    As fast as you can without hurting yourself

    ED
    Die young.

    LES
    Younger

    ED
    Leave a beautiful corpse

    FANNY
    Leave A corpse.

    JESSSIE
    Now wait…you three have lived long lives and someone who cares very deeply about you put you here where you’d have the best care possible…

    ED
    Bullshit….the whole world has dissed us. Once you’re our age, you don’t got respect, and you don’t got a future….so you gots to live in the now…

    FANNY
    And in the butterscotch….

    ED
    Cause there may be no tomorrow.

    LES
    Word

    ED draws the gun and points it at JESSIE again.

    ED
    And with the gun, I get your undivided attention and respect. People say respect your elders, but ain’t nobody respectin’ elders.

    FANNY takes her can of Ensure and dumps a little on the floor

    FANNY
    For my homey John McCain.

    LES
    For Christ’s sake Fanny, he’s still alive

    ED
    But I’m gettin your respect right now, ain’t I?

    FANNY
    Now get us some butterscotch, bitch!

    LES
    Werther’s….make Her get Werthers.

    ED
    The Incontinentals have spoken young lady-blood…if you want to live I think you best be steppin’ down to Walgreen’s.

    LES
    Word

    JESSSIE
    I’m not doing anything for you – elder or not. You’re just a rude bitter old man.

    ED
    I’m a rude bitter old man with a gun bitch!

    JESSSIE
    Oh yeah? Well how about using it!

    JESSIE gets up and moves behind ED. ED holds the gun up in one hand and tries pushing the wheels with the other as LES and FANNY shout “get her Ed, pop a cap” etc. Using just one hand though, ED just ends up turning left or right and losing his aim….Jessie keeps dodging him, and ED gets more and more frustrated trying to keep up. DERREK, the orderly, walks in.

    DERREK
    Hey! What the hell is going on in here?

    LES
    (forced whisper to FANNY)
    Shit! Five-o!

    DERREK walks right up to ED and takes the gun out of his hands.

    DERREK
    I thought I took that away from you.

    JESSSIE
    That was gutsy…he could have shot you.

    DERREK
    He can’t load any bullets…arthritis. But that doesn’t stop him from stealing this every time we have an ice cream social with the VFW, does it Ed?

    ED
    Call me E-Dog.

    FANNY
    The man…always smacking us down.

    DERREK
    Look…it’s tapicoa night, and Showboat is screening after in the rec room. Why don’t you three get a nap and stop hassling this woman, okay?

    JESSSIE
    Thank you.

    DERREK nods his head and walks out. WILBUR gets up and grabs his walker.

    ED
    (to JESSIE)
    He may have taken my piece, but we ain’t lettin you and your grandpa leave ‘til we get us a butterscotch deal.

    ED, FANNY and LES roll up menacingly on WILBUR and JESSIE. JESSIE pulls the pile of photos out of her purse and throws them at the three geriatric gang bangers.

    JESSSIE
    C’mon Grandpa – let’s get out of here!

    WILBUR starta moving as fast as his walker will allow. ED, FANNY and LES all start looking at the photos.

    FANNY
    Awwwww…look how cute!

    LES
    He sure loves that goat.

    ED
    Oh look…he’s even holding his toy gun properly!

    ED, FANNY and LES look up to see WILBUR and JESSIE leaving. They pause for a moment thinking about pursuit, then go back to the photos.

    ED
    Look at this – he’s got pudding all over his face!

    FANNY
    So cute.

    LES
    Word

    BLACK OUT

  • FSW: Leafer’s Paradise

    Autumn. A wide open theme. Could have gone so many ways, that I expect we’ll get some nice variation this week. Let’s hope so! 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.

    Leafer’s Paradise

    EXT. RURAL ROAD – DUSK

    A lone luxury sedan drives over rolling hills in the golden sunset, the millions of brightly colored autumn leaves glowing in shades of red and orange. Perfect foliage.

    VANESSA (V.O.)

    Oh, Marcus! It’s beautiful. You were right, this was the perfect weekend to drive up. Sorry I doubted you.

    MARCUS (V.O.)

    No worries, babe. I checked the almanac, the National Weather Service, and had the boys in accounting run some numbers based on the last 20 years, factoring in warming trends. I knew this would be the peak weekend.

    VANESSA (V.O.)

    I just wish we could have skipped work and had an extra day. But anyway, this place I booked should be perfect. The Double-A Guide gave it three coffee cups.

    MARCUS (V.O.)

    You mean the Triple-A Guide.

    VANESSA (V.O.)

    Uh-oh.

    INT. HOTEL LOBBY – NIGHT

    RUPERT and MAGGIE stand behind the desk. He’s in his 50s, balding, and looking rumpled-casual in a button-down shirt. She’s in her 30s and crisply turned out. The door opens and MARCUS and VANESSA stroll in with too many bags for a weekend trip. He and she are both in their 30s, decked out in the flannel, cashmere, and special boots they bought just for this weekend.

    MAGGIE

    Good evening, and welcome to Hearth House. Are we the Pithbottoms?

    VANESSA

    Yes, we are. I’m Vanessa and this is Marcus. Your inn is beautiful, really.

    Maggie taps at her computer.

    MAGGIE

    Thank you. Let’s see, we have you for three nights, checking out Sunday morning, and you wanted to do two of our foliage tours, one tomorrow and then the special Leaves & Lakes Tour on Saturday. How fun!

    RUPERT

    Will you be dining in the restaurant this evening?

    MARCUS

    Honey?

    VANESSA

    Sure. Sounds good.

    (to Marcus)

    Doesn’t he look like Bob Newhart? You think he’s like him?

    (to Rupert)

    Aren’t you chilly? Maybe you should put on a cardigan?

    Rupert gets this a LOT. He rolls his eyes and gives the couple a withering look.

    MARCUS

    Yes, yes! Now I see it.

    RUPERT

    Maybe later, ma’am. Right now, let’s just get you two finished with check-in.

    Maggie taps a bit more, Rupert shuffles some papers.

    MARCUS

    (to Vanessa)

    Doesn’t she remind you of that Gilman Girl?

    VANESSA

    (to Marcus)

    Who’s that?

    MARCUS

    You know, Laura Gilman, from that show you like?

    VANESSA

    Oh you mean–

    MAGGIE

    –Okay, we’re almost done. Will you be keeping this on your American Express?

    MARCUS

    Actually, I’d like to put it on this Visa, instead.

    Vanessa looks at Marcus questioningly while he hands his card to Maggie.

    MARCUS (CONT’D)

    (to Vanessa)

    Double miles.

    The wind outside kicks up. Rupert and Maggie look at each other and hurry up the process. She drops the card in her haste and both get looks of abject terror at the delay. The wind picks up more. Just as Maggie runs the card through the reader, the front door FLIES open and a mass of dead leaves blow into the lobby, propelled by a whipping wind.

    MAGGIE

    If I could just get you to sign here?

    Maggie and Rupert look at each other with a mixture of relief and amused resignation.

    VANESSA

    Wow, that was some wind. Hope it doesn’t effect the leaves too much.

    EXT. RURAL ROAD – DAY

    A van drives through a vast wasteland. I mean, like Tunguska AFTER the event. Dead, gnarly trees as far as the eye can see beneath a leaden sky. Swirling piles of leaves gather in little eddies.

    TOUR GUIDE (V.O.)

    On the right, you’ll see a stand of Vermont maples, renown for their beautiful, deep red leaves in autumn.

    BLACKOUT