Sketch War

Category: Sketches

Sketch Entries from the warriors

  • FSW: Highway Robbery

    Not my best work. I’m going to leave it at that. I think it’s a cute-ish setup, and I don’t mind the payoff, but it’s clunky and clumsy and the dialog sucks. Sorry. Blame David for picking this week’s theme of payroll. Michael’s up for next week’s theme. My fingers are crossed that it doesn’t hurt quite like this one!
     

    (Payroll department. TIM, 30s and beige as the cubes and carpet of his department, sits at his desk. MARY, late 20s but holding tight to her early 20s, stands at his side.)
    TITLE: WELLS FARGO SOUTHWEST REGIONAL DATA CENTER, PAYROLL DEPARTMENT, PAYDAY, 11:59AM.

    MARY
    I don’t understand why we don’t just send out an email.

    TIM
    Corporate needs hard copies of everyone’s AR-13s, in triplicate.

    MARY
    Tree killers.

    TIM
    That’s just the way things are done. If we don’t get those in, no one’s getting paid next month.

    MARY
    I know, I know. I’ll take care of it. I just don’t know why it’s got to be this way.

    TIM
    Personally, I like doing things the old way. I like knowing I’ve got a file cabinet filled with all the documents I need to get us through any audit. What do you have with an email?

    (Gunfire announces the arrival of THREE COWPOKES, dusty, mustachioed, and 120 years too late. Ringleader DALE steps front and center and shoots his two six-shooters.)

    DALE
    Yeehah! Alright you lily-livered hangdogs. Hand over the loot.

    MARY
    Sir, you can’t fire guns in–

    (Dale shoots Mary. Dead.)

    DALE
    Yeehah!

    TIM
    (sighing)
    Great. Do you know how long it takes to train a good payroll clerk? What do you want.

    DALE
    We’re aimin’ to take your payroll off your hands, pardner.

    TIM
    Take our…you want to steal our payroll?

    DALE
    You betcha!
    (to henchmen)
    He ain’t the sharpest fella, is he?

    TIM
    You do realize that most of our employees just have direct deposit, right?

    DALE
    What in tarnation is that?

    TIM
    Pay is deposited directly into their bank accounts. No paychecks, no cash. All they get is a stub.

    DALE
    Goldang it all! The world’s just changin’ too fast for this ol’ outlaw.

    TIM
    I know how you feel.

    DALE
    I s’pose they get medical, too.

    TIM
    And dental.

    (Dale raises his eyebrow suggestively. Lights come down and back up. Tim sits alone at his desk. Dale comes up in the same dusty cowboy gear. He shoots into the air.)

    TITLE: WELLS FARGO SOUTHWEST REGIONAL DATA CENTER, PAYROLL DEPARTMENT, ONE WEEK LATER

    DALE
    Yeehah! Here are them AR-13s, boss!

    BLACKOUT

  • FSW: Disney Edition

    “Disney” was the theme tossed out by Richard this week in honor of his applying for the Disney-ABC Television Writing Fellowship. Here’s hoping it was just the push he needed to get accepted.

    His sketch this week brings us the Walt-cicle taking in the Olympics.

    Dave jumped in last week after getting a reaming from the creator of Wall-E. Nothing from him yet, but the theme is in his hands should he choose to join us.

    I think it’s interesting that I chose to deal with Walt as well. Not sure what that says about Richard and I. Aside from the “great minds think alike” stuff.

    Origin of Species.

    (A dark and dingy basement/laboratory. A young man is standing over an operating table working on a body. We can’t really see what’s on the table. He is whistling while he works. Suddenly a light is turned on and we hear footsteps coming into the basement.)

    Dad: What are you doing down here, Walt?

    Walt: Knock! I asked you to knock before coming down here!

    (Walt frantically throws a sheet over the body. His Dad enters.)

    Dad: I’m sorry, son, but something’s happened.

    (He notices Walt’s apron is covered with splattered blood.)

    Dad: What are you working on?

    Walt: Nothing. Science experiment. Nothing.

    (The body under the sheets twitches. Dad looks around Walt at the figure on the table.)

    Dad: Is it alive? You’re not torturing one of Mrs. DeVille’s cats again are you?

    Walt: No, Dad.

    Dad: We talked about that, remember?

    Walt: I remember, Dad. Now, what did you want to talk to me about? I have work to do.

    Dad: There’s no easy way of saying this. It’s your mother.

    Walt: What about her?

    Dad: Well, she was out picking berries and some hunters mistook her for a deer…

    (There is a sound from under the sheet. A strange guffawing, laugh-like sound.)

    Dad: What the hell do you have under there?

    (Dad whips away the sheet to reveal a strange humanoid looking dog. Dad recoils with disgust.)

    Dad: Sweet Jesus! What have you done?

    Walt: It’s not finished yet!

    Dad: Is that Pluto?

    Walt: No, dad. I would never hurt our dog.

    Dad: Then?

    Walt: It’s the Darling’s goofy-looking mutt.

    (The “dog-man” twitches and guffaws again.)

    Walt: He is going to be able to walk and talk, just like we do.

    Dad: Oh son. Son, this is wrong. You have to stop this.

    Walt: Why can’t you believe in me? My work.

    Dad: Walt, trying to make animals behave like us isn’t work, it’s….it’s immoral.

    Walt: You just wait and see. I’ll show you. I’ll show everyone!

    (Walt bolts up the stairs.)

    Dad: Son wait! Come back!

    (We hear a door slam in another part of the house. Dad takes a look around the basement. The “dog-man” twitches and guffaws.)

    Dad: Jesus. This is worse than those damn mice he kept putting short pants on.

    (He picks up a shovel and bashes the “dog-man” with it. There are a couple of yelps and then it is still. He wipes his hands and heads for the stairs.)

    Dad: He’s gotta cut this shit out. A thing like this can stick with a man forever. After all, it’s a small world out there.

    (He climbs the stairs. A cricket in a top hat and coat leaps onto the table. It takes one look at the “dog-man” and vomits.)

    BLACKOUT

  • FSW: Walt and the Olympics

    Today’s the Disney-ABC deadline. My application got in the mail yesterday, but in honor of the day, I suggested that this week’s theme should be Disney. Hope you enjoy. Next week’s theme *should* be up to David, but if he’s not fully back in the battle, it’ll fall to Michael.
     

    (A lab. An odd mixture of modern and Gernsback-inspired equipment. THREE MEN in white lab coats hover over a metal tube. WALT DISNEY sleeps inside.)
    TITLE: TODAY. A TOP-SECRET LAB DEEP BENEATH EPCOT CENTER.

    PERRAULT
    His vitals are almost normal, he should be up any–

    (Walt pops up. A bell goes off.)

    WALT
    Oh boy, that was a good nap. Heya fellas.

    HAND
    It worked! It really worked!

    WALT
    Well of course it did, son. This is the best reanimation equipment money can buy. What’s the date?

    HAND
    2008. August 2008.

    WALT
    That was a little longer than I expected. Darn. Tell me, how’s the company doing? Did it get by alright once our copyrights went into the public domain?

    LUSKE
    Into the…no. Mr. Disney, we still have all our copyrights.

    WALT
    You did say 2008, right son?

    HAND
    Yessir.

    LUSKE
    You can thank Sonny Bono.

    PERRAULT
    Sonny Bono’s dead.

    HAND
    Actually, he’s in that tube over there.

    WALT
    Alright. So we’ve still got our characters. Good. What else. (BEAT) Hey! It’s 2008. It’s an Olympiad!

    HAND
    Yessir. Would you like to watch them while you’re finishing your recovery?

    WALT
    Sure! Who doesn’t love the Olympics?

    (A TV is turned on, and we hear Bob Costas spinning a melodramatic tale of woe over a John Tesh score. Walt’s face drops as he watches.)

    WALT
    Where the hell is Jim McKay?!?

    CUT TO:

    (Another lab room, the same mixture of high and sci-fi tech. Walt stands behind a bank of monitors and a board. The three techs operate the board.)
    TITLE: 2012. A TOP-SECRET LAB BENEATH EPCOT CENTER

    WALT
    Hit is, boys!

    (On the screens, we see an Animatronic JIM MCKAY.)

    MCKAY
    Hello. Welcome to ABC Sports coverage of the Thirtieth Olympiad. I’m Jim McKay.

    BLACKOUT

  • Hot Rocks, Cold Bodies

    (A morgue. Four bodies are covered with sheets. TONY PRATT, coroner, lifts one of the sheets and speaks into a handheld tape recorder.)

    TONY
    …and the renal and liver failure, along with the low sodium concentration in the plasma, makes for a textbook case of Legionnaires’ disease. In younger victims, this would have been very treatable, but these subjects had elderly, oft-abused bodies, and this outbreak was simply the straw that broke the camel’s back.
    (TONY walks to another of the sheets and lifts it.)
    Keith Richards lasted the longest, but the severe bouts of vomiting finally drained his body of all hydration, leaving him a dried husk of a man.
    (TONY drops the sheet and begins walking across the room.)
    And if I may add a personal note, I am saddened by the fact that the band I grew up worshipping, the band I thought would never die, has been felled by something as random as a bacterial infection spread by the air conditioning system of their five-star hotel. Their end does not hold with the hard-living reputa- WHOOP
    (TONY has slipped on something. He bends down and examines it.)
    What the hell?
    (He leans closer.)
    That’s disgusting.

    (BRENT HERNANDEZ, an assistant coroner, enters. He has tears in his eyes.)

    BRENT
    Tony, have you seen- WHOOP
    (BRENT has slipped too. He looks around him on the floor.)
    Oh no. It happened again.

    TONY
    What happened again?

    BRENT
    It’s the new intern, sir. She keeps wandering in here, and, well…

    TONY
    Well what?

    BRENT
    Have you seen her? She’s fucking hot.

    TONY
    Brent, if the two of you have been fornicating in the morgue, I’ll see to it that you never work in the industry again.

    BRENT
    No! Not at all! In fact, she’s a bit of a tease… It’s, uh, it’s why I’m crying.

    TONY (indicating the floor)
    Then where did this come from?

    BRENT
    It’s the bodies, sir. I think… I think it’s from the bodies. This happens every time the new intern comes in here.

    TONY
    Are you serious?

    BRENT
    She’s really fucking hot.

    TONY
    Be that as it may, the floor is covered in corpse ejaculate, and I am not going to clean it up. Send the intern in here with a mop.

    BRENT
    All due respect, sir, that would cause a bit of a vicious cycle.

    TONY
    Tell her to wear some dowdy clothing!

    BRENT
    I can’t. She’d take us to court in a sexual discrimination case.

    And Now, The Punch Line.

    (TONY looks to the camera and rolls his eyes.)

    TONY
    This is the worst musical predicament we’ve had here since Roberta Flack’s lover went on that soft-song killing spree!!!!!!!!!

    The End.

  • FSW: Procrastination Edition

    The third week of our themed entries. And, true to the theme, I waited until the last minute to start working on it. Not that I haven’t been mulling the idea over in my head all week. But still…

    Next week’s theme is “Disney” for those of you playing along at home.

    Richard is already up with a scene from the historical moon mission.

    Mine doesn’t have nearly the honorable lineage.

    Procrastination

    (We see a television screen. A talking head news anchor.)

    ANCHOR: And today is the 75th Anniversay of the passing of James McAveney. Mr. McAveney’s passing is notable primarily because he was the last person known to have died in the past 75 years.

    (The channel changes. We see a reporter standing in the middle of a massive crowd of people.)

    REPORTER: Things have only gotten worse. With death rates still at zero, the planet’s resources have been pushed to the brink. And with land becoming a scarce commodity as well, desperate people are looking to man-made islands to save the ever increasing population.

    (The channel changes. A Reporter is talking to a distraught businessman.)

    BUSINESSMAN: We thought it was a fluke at first. But it’s been really hard to run a funeral home when there are no funerals.

    REPORTER: I understand this has been particularly trying on your wife.

    BUSINESSMAN: Yeah, well, she tried to commit suicide a while back, but it didn’t work. I came home and she was just hanging from banister, frustrated that she had failed. Guess it was her third attempt that day too.

    (We cut to a lavishly decorated office lobby. A beautiful woman sits behind the desk. The door opens and an incredible, white light fills the room. A voice emanates from the light and seems to be coming from everywhere at once.)

    GOD: Is he in?

    RECEPTIONIST: One moment, please. (Into intercom) Sir, the Great I Am is here to see you.

    DEATH: (On speakerphone) Sweet! Send him in.

    (We’re in the Death’s office. It looks like something from Edward Gorrey’s nightmares. God enters.)

    GOD: We need to talk. You’ve fallen behind on your quotas.

    (We see a hooded figure standing in front of a large screen TV. A large sickle leans against one wall. He holds a Wii remote in his bony hand which he swings like a tennis racket.)

    DEATH: Have you played this thing? It’s like you’re actually playing tennis. But without all the wear and tear on your joints. Amazing.

    (Death continues to play. God just shakes his head and sighs.)

    BLACKOUT

  • FSW: Spider

    This week’s topic, as chosen by Michael, is procrastination. Oddly enough, I didn’t wait until the last minute to write this. I’m sure you can’t tell based on its quality, however. A couple items of note: 

    • There were enough scene changes in here that trying to format as anything but a screenplay was irritating and hard to follow, so I did that and exported a pdf. If you can’t see the Scribd plugin below, please let me know in comments and I’ll gen a text version as well. If you like the way the Scribd plugin works for things like this, let me know that in comments. I might start using it for the occasional posting.
    • If y’all couldn’t guess, I’m joking here. Tom Kelly is a frakin’ hero to me, as are all the engineers who worked on Apollo, Gemini, and Mercury. I recommend his book Moon Lander: How We Developed the Apollo Lunar Module if engineering and project management are at all interesting to you.
    • Jim McDivitt and Rusty Schweickart flew LM-3, callsign Spider, in low Earth orbit while CM Pilot Dave Scott remained in Gumdrop on the 10-day Apollo 9 mission. This was the first manned flight of the LM and the little foil and mylar bastard passed with flying colors. (I’m exaggerating about its construction, again.)
    • Next week’s theme is…ah! Yes! In honor of what August 8 is, next week’s theme will be DISNEY.

    Read this document on Scribd: fsw spider

  • FSW: Cross Dress Edition

    Richard tossed this one out last week. And, like him, I’ve waited until the last minute to crank it out.


    Not to self: Start tossing out ideas earlier in the week.

    Next week theme: Procrastination. 

    All right. This here’s what we call a “blackout”. A quickie that, hopefully, ends with a laugh. Much like my sex life.
    Party Pops
    (A team of ad execs are sitting around a table. There are take out contains littered everywhere. Everyone is fried.)
    James: We’ve been at this all night. Let’s just call it and get some sleep.
    Peter: No. We have (looking at watch) four hours until deadline. Come guys, we can do this.
    (David hops to his feet and starts doing jumping jacks.)
    David: We just need a little energy. We’ve got some decent ideas here. We just need that one killer idea to push us over the top.
    Martin: All right, if no one else is going to say it, I’ll point out the huge elephant in the room. This product is  just not marketable.
    James: Every product is marketable, Martin. We just have to find the right angle.
    Martin: We’ve come at this thing from every angle imaginable. There’s just no way we’re going to make Mr. and Mrs. John Q. Public race out the grocery store and buy a pack of Boy George’s new “Party in Your Mouth Popsicles.” I mean, for god’s sake, they’re even ribbed.
    Blackout

  • FSW: President Paul

    Um, well…so last week I selected the topic of cross dressing for this week’s sketches. Little did I know that it wasn’t an easy theme and I wouldn’t get my first opportunity to work on it until a half-hour ago. Ugh. It’s…okay. I treated it like an improv sketch and once I had the basis, just pushed forward without much concern about what was happening. It suffers from not having a really good through-line. Sorry. Next week, hopefully, I will have more time to write my sketch, but for now, take some small enjoyment from President Paul.


    (A crowded press room. Reporters crammed in, shoulder-to-shoulder. There’s a constant low-level murmur coming from them as they wait. As one, they all turn their heads and track someone moving to the podium. We’re still on the reporters.)

    REPORTER 1
    Mr. President! Mr. President! Chuck Masters, LA Times. President Paul, how do you respond to those who say your election was a fluke? That if Barack Obama and John McCain hadn’t been caught with their hands in Cookie Jar you would never have been anything more than a spoiler.

    (We cut to the podium. Standing behind the Seal of the President: Ru Paul.)

    PRESIDENT PAUL
    First off, baby, it’s Madame President! If Hilary had this much style she’d be standing here today. Second, I know Cookie Jar. She’s huge on the erotic dance circuit. Y’all’ve been treating her like a pariah and that’s not right. She’s a sweetie and it’s no wonder my former opponents were enthralled by her charms. As to your question, Chuck, let me say that I think the American public made an informed choice, an intelligent choice, and a choice they’ll be very happy with.

    REPORTER 2
    Madame President! Cindy Shermer, Miami Herald.

    PRESIDENT PAUL
    Go ahead, Cindy.

    REPORTER 2
    Madame President, you won Florida handily, dominating in Miami-Dade county. Is this another case of confusing ballots and people voting for the wrong candidate?

    PRESIDENT PAUL
    Cindy, you look awfully pale. You don’t get out much, get away from your computer screen, do you?

    REPORTER 2
    That’s not relevant. Are you avoiding my question, Madame President?

    PRESIDENT PAUL
    Not at all, Cindy. I’m trying to answer it. Maybe you should get outside sometime and walk around your beautiful city. That’s my city. My people. The freaks and fabs of Miami got up and voted for one of their own.

    REPORTER 2
    Are you saying you don’t think the Serpentine ballots might have had something to do with it? With your name right next to Ron Paul’s name?

    PRESIDENT PAUL
    Y’all think Miami and Fort Lauderdale would have voted in record numbers for a crazy man yelling about the gold standard? Why would they do that when they could vote for the real Gold Standard?

    REPORTER 3
    Madame President! Over here, please, Madame President! Pick me, pick me!

    PRESIDENT PAUL
    That’s more like it! Go ahead, Francesco.

    REPORTER 3
    Thank you, darling! Francesco Batisti, Vogue. Madame President, what do you say to the rumors that you plan on picking Ralph Lauren to be your Secretary of State?

    PRESIDENT PAUL
    Sounds like you’ve got a source deep, deep inside, Francesco! That’s right, I’m picking Ralph. He’s a little darling, and when I think how America should present herself to the world, I think Lauren.

    REPORTER 4
    Madame President! Thank you. Cal Trumbo, FOX News. What are your plans for the court? It is likely that two or three Supreme Court justices could be replaced during your term in office. What sort of candidates are you going to seek to fill those openings?

    PRESIDENT PAUL
    Cal, I’ll seek the same sort of candidates for those openings as for all my openings. Fabulous ones! Thank you all for coming, but I have to meet with the Joint Chiefs now!

    BLACKOUT

  • FSW: Workaholic Edition

    It’s not bad enough that I’ve been trying to cram a little writing in this week, but now I have theme. Sheesh. I don’t work well with guidlines and structure. I’m more or a free range animal.

    At any rate, Richard thought this might be a fun way to spice things up. He also thinks that going to the dentist is better than a day at Disney World. Sick twist. You can peep his hard work here.

    For myself, well, somehow once I got this idea in my head, I couldn’t shake it. I’m also counting this as my make-up “founding fathers” sketch from the 4th.

    Enjoy. And remember, you’re more than welcome to become more than just a spectator. Next week’s theme is “cross dressing“. So get to work.

    (An old farm house in Virginia, 1776. Martha is in the bustling kitchen giving orders to servants.)

    Martha: Doris, go out to the coup and fetch me a dozen eggs. Abligale, make sure there’s plenty of mint for the tea. Who’s supposed to be churning butter?

    Bea: I am, ma’am.

    Martha: Well get to it. It’s not going to churn itself.

    (Thomas enters with a flourish and sets down his valice.)

    Thomas: Honey, I’m home.

    Martha: That’s great dear, but the Adamses are coming over for dinner and I still have to get this pie dough rolled out.

    Thomas: I thought we were going to have a nice, quiet dinner.

    (He slides up behind her and puts his arms around her waist.)

    Thomas: Just the two of us?

    (She smacks his hands away and moves to another counter.)

    Martha: TJ, please. Not in front of the servants.

    Thomas: But dear, I’ve been gone for over a month.

    Martha: Do you think that when you leave this place just shuts down? No. I’ve got an entire house to run here. It’s been even worse since you started on this Declaration of Independence business. Every Tom, Dick and Benedict Arnold in the state wants to stop by and give you their two farthings.

    Thomas: Martha, please. Let’s just slip off into the larder. Just for a minute or two. I’ve missed you so much.

    Martha: I’m sorry, dear, but you’ll have to wait.

    Thomas: But I have important household business I want to conduct with you.

    (He tries to take her in his arms again. She smacks him with a towel.)

    Martha: If you’re not going to roll up your sleeves and help me with this meal, I would appreciate it if you would just remove yourself from my kitchen.

    Thomas: Some welcome home this is.

    Martha: (Softening some) Oh, don’t sulk like a little child. Go get your things unpacked. I’ll send Sally up to the room with a glass of tea and some biscuits.

    Thomas: Oh, Sally, yes, of course. That sounds just fine dear.

    (He kisses her on the cheek, grabs his bag and exits. She begins rolling out dough.)

    Martha: If it wasn’t for that woman’s vagina I would never get any work done around here.

    Blackout

  • FSW: Working Through the Pain

    We’ve decided that writing a sketch a week, often a few hours before it’s due, isn’t nearly challenging enough. From now on, we’re going to write on set topics or themes. Michael’s picked this week’s theme: workaholics. I’ll go ahead and pick next week’s theme right now…cross dressing. (TheWife and I are going to see Eddie Izzard in Vegas next weekend.)

    I wish I had more time to give this a bit more polish, but it’s 10:45pm. I’m going to a 3:15am showing of “The Dark Knight” and need at least a little sleep. So my apologies for the rough edges.

    (Ravi, a surgeon in his early 30s in surgical whites, works on a patient with OR nurse Betty at his side. Anesthesiologist Karl sits on the other side of the operating table monitoring his equipment. Ravi is performing delicate brain surgery on Amanda. An intricate ballet occurs between Ravi and Betty. Her responses to his one word grunts for instruments occur almost before he makes them. His hands fly.)

    RAVI
    Retractor. Melman. (BEAT) Damn it! Where’s that priest?

    BETTY
    He should be here any moment. Are you sure you need him?

    RAVI
    Am I sure? Damn it, Betty – Debakey – don’t you think I know what I’m doing? Kimmel.

    BETTY
    It just seems too soon for a priest. You’re the best damn surgeon in the state. It’s too soon to give up.

    (Oh yeah, turns out this is the sort of brain surgery where the patient is awake.)

    AMANDA
    I’m right here!

    RAVI
    Take it easy, Amanda. Everything’s going fine.

    BETTY
    I’m sorry. I just think…well…I’m sorry.

    RAVI
    Damn it, Betty. That’s enough! Hemostat.

    (The door to the OR flies open and a man rushes in. He’s also dressed in surgical whites.)

    RAVI
    Father Rodriguez?

    (It’s not Father Rodriguez. It’s Chip, Amanda’s 20-something assistant.)

    CHIP
    No, sir. Amanda, there’s a problem in Singapore. I did what I could without you, but the foreman said if the worker’s demands aren’t met they’ll strike.

    AMANDA
    That’s alright Chip. Come on over here. Doctor Cheswick, you don’t mind if Chip takes your seat for a moment, do you?

    KARL
    But I have to watch this monitor here. See how it goes beep, beep, beep? If it stops, I have to press these switches and turn these dials. I can’t just–

    AMANDA
    –Thanks. Scoot. Alright Chip, what’s the skinny?

    RAVI
    Leno. Wipe, please.

    (Betty wipes Ravi’s brow with a piece of gauze held by forceps.)

    CHIP
    They’re demanding a six-percent cost of living raise–

    AMANDA
    –That’s doable.

    CHIP
    And Friday night off.

    BETTY
    I’m sorry, Doctor. I was out of line.

    RAVI
    That’s alright. It’s understandable. Balfour.

    AMANDA
    Friday night off? Every Friday? We can’t do that. We’d never meet the production goals.

    CHIP
    Actually, just this Friday. George Michael is playing Jalan Besar Stadium and they want to go.

    AMANDA
    The entire shift?

    CHIP
    Apparently George Michael is like the David Hasselhoff of Singapore. Singapore’s Germany in this analogy.

    AMANDA
    Fine. Do it. But every shift has to cut ten minutes off lunch for the next three weeks. Anything else?

    CHIP
    No, ma’am.

    (Chip gets up and Karl takes his seat back. He turns a few dials, but nothing happens. As Chip leaves, another man enters the OR – Father Rodriguez.)

    RAVI
    Finally! I was beginning to think you wouldn’t make it in time.

    FATHER RODRIGUEZ
    I came as quickly as I could, my son. Is this the woman?

    RAVI
    Yes. Amanda, this is Father Rodriguez.

    AMANDA
    I’d shake your hand, but I’m otherwise occupied.

    (Polite chuckles all around, but from Betty. She’s steamed.)

    RAVI
    Carson.

    FATHER RODRIGUEZ
    Ravi Srinivasan, do you take Amanda Palmer to be your lawfully wedded wife?

    BLACKOUT