Sketch War

Tag: sketch war

  • FSW: Apocalypse Edition

    I appear to be the first one out of the gate this morning. But since Richard and Ken are in later time zones, I suppose they could still be waking up. Or perhaps trying to shake off all the folksy charm that was slung at us last night. Especially Richard, who was live blogging the debate on his new site.

    At any rate, even though the politcos have been screaming that the sky is falling, it appears to be firmly in place. Nonetheless, the theme was Apocalypse, so that’s what I bring you.

    Enjoy.

    The Dream Scenario OR How Dick Never Stopped Loving the Bomb

    (A secret, underground bunker somewhere in the Midwest. Uniformed men sit at consoles and radar displays pushing buttons and looking very official. Suddenly an alarm goes off; a red light begins to flash. Commander Marcus and Captain Briggs rush into the room.)

    Marcus: Corporal, report!

    Corp: It’s the President, sir, he’s dead.

    Briggs: My God.

    Marcus: Prepare launch coordinates Alpha-Zulu-Foxtrot.

    Briggs: Commander, we don’t know even know how he was killed, how can we launch an attack?

    Marcus: Captain, I have my orders.

    Briggs: Corporal, what’s the status of the President’s death?

    Corp: They’re saying it was a heart attack, sir.

    Briggs: A heart attack?

    Marcus: Prepare launch sequence on my mark, Corporal.

    Briggs: Commander, he died of natural causes. There’s no need for a strike.

    Marcus: Mark!

    Briggs: Commander, wait, we’re about to start a war for no reason…

    Corporal: Launch sequence initiated, sir.

    Marcus: Captain, either you let me do my job or I’ll have you thrown in the brig for treason.

    Briggs: But what’s the target? Who are we bombing?

    (A secret door opens and Dick Cheney, dressed like Patton, strides into the room.)

    Cheney: Washington, D.C.

    Briggs: But –

    Cheney: President McCain is dead and it’s our duty to protect this country from its enemies.

    Briggs: By bombing the Capitol? Surely, Vice President Palin can…

    Cheney: What? Skin us a moose? No, son, we’re going to finish what we started eight years ago. Only this time we’re going to do it right.

    Briggs: But a nuclear bomb detonating over D.C. will kill hundreds of thousands of people.

    Cheney: And when the American people find out it was the Iranians who launched it. Well. (He chuckles to himself.)

    Briggs: This is a coup. I can’t let you do this.

    Cheney: If you aren’t with us, Captain, then you must be with them. Commander.

    Marcus: Captain, you are relieved of duty. Guards, take him to the brig.

    Corporal: Ten seconds to launch, sir.

    (The Guards grab the Captain.)

    Briggs: But this could lead to World War III.

    Cheney: God willing.

    (They begin to drag him away.)

    Briggs: You can’t do this! This is murder!

    (They drag him from the room. In the distance a great rumbling sound is heard.)

    Corporal: The bird’s away, sir.

    Cheney: Remind me to send those boys at Diebold a fruit basket. They made their country proud last November. Knew McCain’s ticker wouldn’t last the year.

    Marcus: Yes, sir. And might I say, it’s good to have you back, sir.

    (Cheney stares at him through squinted eyes.)

    Cheney: I will not tolerate faggots in my military!

    Marcus: No, sir, I was merely saying…

    Cheney: “Merely”? “Merely”? Who uses that word?

    (Cheney pulls out a .45 and shoots Commander Marcus in the face.)

    Cheney: Somebody clean up this mess.

    (He hunches over the Corporal.)

    Cheney: Let’s get two more of those rockets ready.

    Corporal: Targets, sir?

    Cheney: Point one at New York City and the other at Los Angeles. Might as well do a little of the Lord’s work while we’re here. This country will be much stronger without its Sodom and Gomorrah.

    Corporal: Yes, sir.

    (The secret door opens and George W. Bush skips in.)

    George: Hey, Dick, you ready for me yet? Oh wow! Look at all these buttons!

    (George leaps toward the control panel and starts flipping switches and pressing buttons. Cheney grabs him.)

    Cheney: Dammit! I thought I told you to wait until I came for you.

    George: I know, but the Veggie Tales video was over and I couldn’t find where you hid the juice boxes.

    Cheney: Go back to your room. I’ll get you another juice box in a minute.

    George: But I’m thirsty now, Dick.

    Cheney: Do you want a time out?

    George: No. You never let me have any fun.

    (George leaves. More rumblings.)

    Corporal: Uh, sir. We just launched three more rockets.

    Cheney: Where are they headed?

    Corporal: I got the coordinates in for New York and L.A.

    Cheney: What about the third one?

    Corporal: Looks like it’s on course to strike Israel.

    Cheney: That’s a lucky break. Just goes to show you that God is on our side. All right, Corporal, you’re in command here now. I’ve got to prepare Corky in there for his address to the nation.

    Corporal: Yes, sir.

    Cheney: Man, I love this job!

    (Cheney exits whistling “Hail to the Chief”.)

    END

  • FSW: Job Hunting Edition

    What a timely theme, as thousands of brokers, bankers and theives are looking for work. And oddly enough, Ken, Richard and I as seem to playing in the same ballpark with our sketches. I wonder why?

    Richard’s recruiters have the right man for the job.

    Ken’s rolling out a new talk show hosted by everyone’s favorite moose hunter.

    Next week’s theme, if there is a next week, is Apocalypse.

    Here’s my sketch. I wrote it last night watching the news. Enjoy.

    Curious George Visits the Farm

    (June 23, 2009. We are in the kitchen of the Bush Ranch House in Crawford, Texas. Laura is trying to make breakfast. George is constantly getting in her way.)

    Laura: George, for cryin’ out loud. I thought you said you were gonna to help.

    George: I am helpin’.

    Laura: What’s this?

    (She holds up a skillet with a dozen eggs smashed into it, shells and all.)

    George: Well, you just said eggs and I wasn’t sure which part or how many you wanted so I put the whole thing in there.

    Laura: (Sighs) When are you going to get a job and get out of my hair?

    George: Laura, I’ve been looking for a job since December. With the economy in the crapper, there’s just nobody hiring. I’ve called almost every business, baseball team and college in the country and none of them need a new commander in chief.

    Laura: Did you call that recruiter and ask about the travelling lecturer position?

    George: Yeah, but I think that fella was having some sort of break down. I’d no more than said my name and he just started laughing hysterically and didn’t stop.

    Laura: Well, you’ve gotta do something before I go out of my mind. Why don’t you head over to Jasper’s farm. I heard Maebell say they were looking for some help.

    George: Aw, honey, can’t I just stay here and clear brush?

    Laura: George, there’s not a lick of brush left on this ranch. You’ve cut, hacked and weed-whacked every piece of vegetation in a three mile radius. Go to Jasper’s. Tell him I sent ya.

    George: But honey…

    Laura: Go on! Get!

    (We jump to Jasper’s Farm. Jasper is working on a tractor. George kicks one of the tires.)

    George: So anyways, Laura thought maybe I could be of some assistance to you.

    Jasper: I don’t really see how George.

    George: I’ve got some ideas.

    Jasper: Do you now?

    George: I was thinking maybe we could invade Hamilton’s farm, take over their crop as well. That way you’d have twice as much corn to bring to market.

    Jasper: Ah, George, it doesn’t quite work like that.

    George: Well, we could always just torch it all. Make it so he has nothing to sell, thus increasing the worth of your crop.

    Jasper: You know, George, I’m afraid I can’t help you.

    George: Please, Jasper. Laura said if I came back without a job she was gonna put me in a time out.

    (Jasper scratches his head, thinking.)

    Jasper: Well, I do have a problem that maybe you could help me with.

    George: I’m your man, Jasper.

    (We jump to the middle of Jasper’s corn field. George is wearing overalls and has bells and shiny pieces of metal tied to his arms. He is standing on a small perch, with his arms tied straight out to a cross beam, as if he’s been crucified. A Secret Service Agent stands on the ground at his side.)

    George: Can you believe this? All I gotta do is stand out here and watch over the corn.

    Agent: Yes, sir.

    George: I bet Clinton will be jealous when he finds out.

    Agent: Yes, sir.

    (A crow lands on George’s arm.)

    George: Would you look at that. I think he likes me.

    (The crow begins pecking at George’s eyes.)

    George: Ow! Hey, bird, stop that. Ow! I don’t think he likes me no more. Ow!

    (More crows join in and soon George is covered with the black birds. His cries are drowned out by the cawing of the happy, feasting birds. The Secret Service Agent, out of reflex, takes a step towards George, but then stops himself, looks around, and heads back to the farm house.)

    And the world lived happily ever after….

  • FSW: Morton’s Executive Search

    Okay. This week’s topic is job hunting. Nice and straightforward in honor of my upcoming job switch. And *clearly* we can avoid politics tonight.Michael’s got the call for next week, so don’t forget to read his submission when he posts it to find out what next week’s topic is. And of course, because his and Ken’s will be funny as hell.If you want to play along with us, email a link to your entry to sketchwar at dreamloom.com.Morton’s Executive Search

    INT. CONFERENCE ROOM – DAY

    JANET, 30s slender and no-nonsense, enters and strides to the head of the table. She joins GARETH, 40s and tweedy, and EMILY, 20s and achingly hip.

    JANET

    Sorry I’m late. Dick’s sister and kids are visiting. The baby cried half the night. What’s on the agenda today?

    GARETH

    First up is a new position. I got the call right before coming in here. G.O. is in the market for a new CEO. This could be really big for us.

    JANET

    You’re not kidding. Commission on that could run high six figures. Who’ve we got in the stable?

    EMILY

    (Shuffles a few files and reads from the first)

    We’ve got a Columbia grad, Harvard Law, former state legislator and a few years in the Senate. He’s really good in front of crowds. He’d be great calming the stockholders.

    JANET

    (Aghast)

    You’re kidding me, right? This isn’t your local coffee house looking for a part-time manager for Poetry Slam Saturdays. This is one of the biggest companies in the world. Who else have we got.

    Emily is chastened. Gareth grabs a file from her stack and reads.

    GARETH

    Alright. Someone a bit older and more seasoned. We’ve got an Annapolis grad, four-term Senator–

    JANET

    –Please! Again, let me remind you people. We’re hiring for a Cee Eee Oh! Give me someone with some executive experience.

    EMILY

    Okay, I’ve got one. Two-term mayor of a small town, governor–

    JANET

    –Alright. Is that all you’ve got? Come on. G.O., people. G.O. is synonymous with high tech. They started Silicon Valley in their garage. Emily. When I say G.O., what do you think of?

    EMILY

    Well, I guess big-ticket high tech.

    JANET

    Exactly. And we need a CEO who under–

    GARETH

    –We don’t.

    JANET

    We don’t what?

    GARETH

    They told me they’re looking to change. They want to get out of the large-margin business and move into consumer electronics. More sales through Wal-Mart than to Wal-Mart.

    JANET

    So they’re looking for someone to get them out of selling to big business and into the bargain bins. I’ve got the perfect candidate. Checks off all the boxes. She’ll swoop in – and earn us a pretty signing commission – change the corporate culture, and be out the door in five years with millions. Gareth, put together the standard golden chute package.

    (Beat)

    Alright, what’s up next?

    EMILY

    Huh. Interestingly enough, I’ve got a coffee shop looking for a part-time manager.

    JANET

    Alright Mr. Harvard Law, that’s you. What else?

    GARETH

    Kruger Industrial Smoothing needs a new senior sales rep. But I think I’ve got that one covered.

    EMILY

    The Lions have an opening for a GM. I think I’ve got a guy for that. He’s got experience, and we can bring in him for high dollars; he’s making a lot at his current job.

    JANET

    Is he going to be interested in moving on?

    EMILY

    He’s got strong ties to the Detroit area, and apparently is in quite a rush to get out of New York. He’s something of a

    (air quotes)

    “bad boy”, but they love him in Motor City.

    JANET

    And he knows football?

    EMILY

    Not exactly, but he knows sports. And he’s used to the pressure of being a GM.

    GARETH

    We should move quickly on this. Before–

    JANET

    –Before Detroit knows what hit ’em.

    BLACKOUT

  • FSW: Sports Edition

    Richard’s up with a basketball story that seems strangely familiar.

    Ken, the theme originator, brings us three fans who just want to believe in something.

    Dave’s been absent the last couple of weeks, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t writing. He’s just not writing silly sketches.

    In honor of Richard’s recent good news, next week’s theme is Job Hunting.

    Here’s my stab at this week’s theme.


    American Dreamer

    (An elegant restaurant. Barry and Jill Hamilton are dressed for a night out.)

    Barry: Thanks for arranging this evening, honey. I can’t remember the last time we got dressed up for a date.

    Jill: Well, I know you’ve been working so hard, studying for your certification test. And since Barry, Jr. is old enough for a sitter, I thought we could use a night out.

    Barry: Can we afford this place?

    Jill: It’s all taken care of.

    Maitre d’: (With a wink to Jill) Right this way please.

    (He leads them to a back room, closed off from the rest of the restaurant by a curtain.)

    Barry: Our own, private room? How romantic.

    Maitre d’: Enjoy.

    (The Maitre d’ pulls back the curtain to reveal Earl and Edith Hamilton, Barry’s parents. Helen and Gary Whiteman, Jill’s parents. They are all seated in a circle. There is no table.)

    Edith: Surprise!

    Earl: Goddamn it, Edith, it isn’t his birthday.

    Barry: What’s all this?

    (Jill sits leaving one chair for Barry.)

    Earl: Son, we need to talk to you. And you need to listen. Please, sit down.

    (Barry reluctantly does so.)

    Barry: Honey, what’s going on?

    Gary: What’s going on is, we’re not going to let you ruin your life any longer.

    Helen: Easy, Gary. We’re here as ambassadors of love and support, Barry.

    Gary: Jesus Christ.

    Helen: What? That’s what Dr. Phil says when he presides over an intervention.

    Barry: This is an intervention? For me? For what? I’m not a drug user. I’m not having an affair. I don’t gamble. Why does my life need intervening?

    Earl: It’s about your future, son. Your career choice.

    Barry: What about it?

    Edith: Well, we just think, and it’s not because we’re not proud of you, we are, but we think you need to take a good look at what your goals are in this life and realize that you’re never going to achieve them.

    Barry: I’m going to be a teacher, mom. My goals are to help educate the leaders of tomorrow.

    Edith: (To the Whitemans) We thought it was a phase.

    Barry: I’m sorry you don’t approve of my career path, but I have a chance to make a difference in this world. The United States ranks 18th out of 24 nations in education. Over 50% of students can’t even find Iraq on a map. And don’t even get me started on spelling and grammar.

    Helen: You’re never going to be able to raise a family on a teacher’s salary.

    Edith: And what happens if a student shoots you?

    Gary: Hell, it’s fine if you’re a spinster or a homo or someone who’s never going to have kids, but you’ve got responsibilities now.

    Barry: Gary, I’m not going to argue with you there. I would do anything for Jill and Barry, Jr., but material wealth isn’t very high on our priority list.

    Helen: Oh really?

    (Helen nudges Jill with her elbow.)

    Jill: Look, honey, I have needs. And some of those needs have to be met with Gucci and Prada and Gap.

    Helen: And that’s just for the baby.

    Barry: But, you told me you didn’t care about those things. You said we could live in a tent under a bridge as long as we were together.

    Jill: I’d just had four orgasms, Barry. You could have told me that we were going to live on an Amish farm and I would have gone along with it.

    Helen: Four? Really?

    Gary: Well she’s not with him because he’s a provider, that’s for sure.

    Earl: Look, son, we’re here today because we’ve enrolled you as a walk on at Cubs spring training.

    Barry: You what?

    Edith: Honey, base salary for professional baseball players is close to $400,000 a year.

    Gary: And that’s just for the ones that suck.

    Edith: The average is closer to $2.5 million.

    Gary: You could ride the pine all year and still make a great salary.

    Barry: But I haven’t played baseball since high school.

    Earl: That’s why Gary and I have agreed to help get you in shape.

    (He pulls out a baseball mitt and ball.)

    Gary: It’s the American Dream, Barry.

    Barry: Because American’s are lazy and would rather play a stupid game than roll up their sleeves and work.

    Gary: Cool your jets there, comrade. I didn’t spend three years of my life burying land mines along the MeKong so you could bad mouth patriots.

    Barry: Actually…

    Edith: Honey, we just want you to give it a try. A couple of years is all we’re asking.

    Helen: Heck, the average career span is only something like five years anyhow.

    Earl: You could be back in the classroom before your 30th birthday.

    Gary: And with a sizable nest egg to boot.

    Jill: Don’t you think Barry, Jr. would be so proud to have a father who was a real, live, major league, baseball player?

    Barry: Well, I suppose it would be cool to be part of the American Pastime. To play in some of the same stadiums as Ruth and DiMaggio.

    Gary: They’ve torn most of the old parks…

    Earl: (Waving Gary off) Ah-ah-ah. (To Barry) That’s the spirit, son.

    Barry: And we’d get to travel. See the country.

    Jill: Think of all the history we could soak up when we play Philadelphia.

    Earl: Or the Senators.

    Gary: You could give your students firsthand accounts of all the major cities’ finest museums.

    Barry: Okay. I’ll do it!

    (Everyone cheers and hugs one another.)

    Earl: I’m proud of you son.

    Helen: (To Jill) Oh, honey, I’m so happy for you. Your son will have a nanny.

    Barry: I just…

    Edith: What is it, dear?

    Barry: Well, what if I don’t make the team?

    Earl: We’ve already planned for that.

    Helen: You’re going to be a reality TV star.

    Jill: A camera crew is going to follow you all through spring training.

    Gary: “Major League Dreamer”.

    Edith: We’ve also already sold the movie rights to your story.

    Earl: Edith! I thought we were going to save that for Christmas.

    Barry: Wow. You guys have thought of everything. When do we start?

    Jill: We already have.

    (She points to a large two-way mirror on the wall.)

    Barry: Sweet. Well, dad, what do you say we have a catch?

    Earl: I’d love to son.

    (Earl throws the ball at Barry, who misses it and it hits him in the face. A man steps out from behind a curtain.)

    Director: Hold it. Stop tape. Earl, throw the ball again, but this time at his nads. Barry, let it hit you. Roll tape!

    (He ducks behind the curtain. Earl looks at Barry and shrugs.)

    Barry: Wait, can’t we talk about-

    (Earl beans Barry in the beans. He doubles over. The Director pops out.)

    Director: Perfect! We’re minting gold here, people, gold. Moving on!

    BLACKOUT

  • FSW: A Game of Horse

    Ken suggested this week’s theme – sports. He was looking to avoid the teeth gnashing of politics and “failing financial giants”. Let me know how he did.

    I’ve got the baton, so next week’s theme will be…ah yes! In honor of quitting my job today (and unfortunately taking another one,) next week’s theme will be job hunting. If you want to play along with us, email a link to your entry to sketchwar at dreamloom.com.

    A Game of Horse
    (Three young boys of 9 or 10 shoot a basketball listlessly: BARRY a tall, skinny, African-American kid, rebounds an errant shot and struts. JOE, a skinny white kid, narrates the action.)

    JOE
    Look, up in the sky! It’s a bird…it’s a plane…

    BARRY
    How about a game of horse?

    (The last member of our trio is JOHN, a stocky white kid. He slaps the ball from Barry’s hands.)

    JOHN
    Great idea. I’ll go first.

    BARRY
    Don’t be a dick, man.

    JOE
    Yeah, don’t be a dick, man.

    JOHN
    Whatever. You want to protect the hoop? You can’t even protect the ball. Okay. From here, off the backboard.

    (John at the free throw line dribbles many times and lets loose a brick. Not even close. Barry leaps and retrieves.)

    BARRY
    (snarky) Nice shot, John.

    JOE
    Never before in the annals of human history has someone done so little with so much effort.

    (Barry lines up at the baseline, beyond the arc. He shoots. Nothing but a ripple as the ball falls through the net. Joe rebounds and dribbles to Barry’s spot.)

    JOHN
    Behind the line! Get behind the line!

    (Joe sets up and lets fly an abomination. An uglier shot you’ve never seen.)

    BARRY
    That’s ‘H’. Your turn, John.

    (John grabs the ball and dribbles.)

    JOHN
    It’s not fair to shoot from back here. You know I can’t raise my arms above my head!

    JOE
    There’s no crying in basketball.

    (John shoots granny-style and still misses.)

    BARRY
    And ‘H’ for you.

    (Barry grabs the ball and dribbles to the top of the key.)

    BARRY
    Left-handed reverse layup.

    (Barry dribbles left, crosses over right, drives to the hoop, powers under and lays it in silky smooth with his off hand.)

    JOE
    You’re despicable.

    (Joe grabs the ball and executes…that’s not right. He dies. John tries and does even worse, tripping over his feet at the end.)

    BARRY
    Ho-ho-ho! That’s ‘H-O’ for yo’!

    (Barry takes the ball again and goes to the free throw line. He faces away from the hoop.)

    BARRY (CONT’D)
    Ai-ight. Backwards, off the backboard.

    (Cocky bastard. Serves him right when he misses.)

    JOE
    Juuuust a bit outside!

    (John grabs the ball. Out of turn. What a little punk. He goes to the free throw line again.)

    JOHN
    Losers buy the winner tacos!

    (He shoots and banks it in.)

    JOE
    Do you believe in miracles???

    BARRY
    You didn’t call bank!

    JOHN
    I always bank it. You know that.

    BARRY
    Fine.

    (Barry takes the ball and shoots without looking. Cocky. I mentioned that, right? He misses.)

    JOHN
    Ha! That’s an ‘H’! Man, I love Spanish food!

    BARRY
    What?

    JOHN
    I love Spanish food. I can already taste those tacos.

    BARRY
    Spain’s in Europe, John. Tacos are from Mexico.

    JOHN
    Same diff.

    JOE
    He only seems to lack the knowledge ladled out daily in high schools.

    (A petite girl skips to courtside. She’s got a BB gun with her.)

    SARAH
    Can I play?

    JOHN
    No! I told you to quit trying to hang out with us!

    SARAH
    Mom said you have to let me play with you.

    JOHN
    I don’t care. Go home.
    (to Joe)
    Your turn.

    (Joe lines up to shoot and lets the ball sail. Sarah picks it off midair and it deflates as it falls to the ground. Who’d have thought a BB gun would have that much stopping power? Sarah poses like a big girl.)

    SARAH
    Now can I play?

    BLACKOUT

  • Friday Night Sketch War: Change Edition

    The change meme is floating in the ether a lot these days. Michael picked up on it and made it the theme for last Friday’s sketch war. Well, “sha na na na na”.

    • Coyote sent the Justice League to do his bidding…
    • Michael embraced the wonder of the universe…right before kicking it in the teeth…
    • Ken negotiated a pay raise.

    Ken’s suggested next week’s seasonally appropriate theme of sports. So get your thinking caps on, sharpen your pencils, quills, and broadswords, and submit your best effort by midnight Friday to sketchwar at dreamloom.com.

  • FSW: Change Edition

    So far, Richard is the only combatant on the field with his funny, Wonder Twins sketch.

    This week’s theme was “Change”. Been a lot of it happening around me lately. It seems like my world has been build on a fault line and the Earth is beginning to shift and move like a bowl of Jell-O in great-grandma’s hands. But change is good, right? Lord I hope so.

    So here’s today’s offering. When I tossed out the theme I was thinking of writing a more political-centric sketch. But the Muse had other ideas. And there’s no arguing with her, either. It’s her way or the highway.

    Enjoy

    Be The Change

    MONTAGE: We see a series of shots of Brendan Johnson walking around the city doing good deeds. Someone tossing a cup at a trashcan and it misses, Brendan picks it up. Brendan is collecting pages of newspaper that blow in the wind and takes them to a recycling can. Brendan is carrying a little, old ladies groceries for her as they cross a busy street. Brendan is taking soup to a sick friend. Brendan is in the park with a pooper scooper. Brendan is scraping gum off the sidewalk.

    Cut to:

    INT. COFFEE SHOP – DAY

    Brendan is sitting at a small table, sipping a steaming cup of tea while reading the Tao Te Ching. The bell rings over the door and Han Kerin enters looking down trodden. As the door closes, he slings his heavy book-bag over his shoulder and it slams into a woman reading notices on a corkboard.

    WOMAN: Hey!

    Han is oblivious and walks to the counter. After ordering he reaches into his pocket to pull out money and a fistful of coins scatter all over the counter and floor. In an frantic effort to try and catch some, he manages to knock over the display of CDs that were on the counter and spill two different people’s coffees. People mutter “asshole” and “jerk” as they try to avoid this walking disaster. As Han is on his hands and knees picking up his lost change, Brendan joins him and hands him a bunch of coins he’s picked up.

    BRENDAN: Rough morning?

    HAN: Aren’t they all?

    BRENDAN: Each day starts with a clean slate, full of potential and possibility.

    HAN: Yeah. Potential for more shit to go wrong.

    BRENDAN: If you only look for the negative that’s all you’re ever going to find.

    HAN: It’s better than constantly having your hopes dashed.

    BRENDAN: If you want good things to happen, you have to make them happen. Be the change you want to see in the world.

    HAN: Are you high or something?

    BRENDAN: On life, my friend. On life.

    HAN: Okay, well, it makes you sound like a crazy person.

    BRENDAN: And what if I’m the only sane one here?

    HAN: Then you’re delusional as well.

    BRENDAN: What are you doing right now?

    HAN: Well, I’m supposed to go to the unemployment office to see if…

    BRENDAN: You should come with me to the park.

    HAN: So you can murder me?

    Brendan laughs and pats Han on the back.

    BRENDAN: Just for an hour. I want to open your eyes to the possibilities that this world has to offer you.

    HAN: In the park?

    BRENDAN: Come on. When was the last time you really took a chance? Huh? The journey of a thousand miles begins with the first step.

    HAN: Well, I suppose it can’t hurt.

    They are standing. Brendan has put his arm around Han.

    BRENDAN: The world is a beautiful, serene place. It’s us and our attitudes about it that make it ugly.

    Han is getting a little chocked up.

    HAN: You know, you’re the first person who’s actually said anything to me other than “Watch it, asshole.” or “How’s about a shower, fuckface.” in a long time.

    BRENDAN: Let’s go generate some positivity for you, my friend.

    HAN: All right. Let’s do it.

    Brendan grabs his things and they head for the door. Han is smiling.

    HAN: I can’t remember the last time I felt this…light. This excited about something.

    BRENDAN: Once you open the door to positive energy it’s hard to keep it out.

    Brendan begins to cross the street.

    HAN: Hey, what’s your name?

    Brendan stops and looks back. He opens his mouth to speak just as a city bus blows past running him over. Han shakes his head. While Han is standing there, looking at the carnage, a shady fellow gently pulls Han’s laptop out of his bag and walks off with it. He turns to leaves and stops as he has stepped in something. He picks up his shoe to reveal a long, sticky string of bubble gum and dog crap.

    HAN: That’s more like it.

    He walks away.

    FADE TO BLACK

  • FSW: Change We Can Believe In

    This weeks’s topic, selected by Michael, was change. I figured I should go with the season, and go with the political flow. Let’s give honors to…Ken for next week. Ken, pick it and put in comments!

    If you want to read this the way it really should be formatted, click here for the Scribd version. It’s not radically different in appearance, except that the dual dialog is better laid out.

    Oh, and yes. This would have to be animated. Assume Hanna-Barbera style.

    Change We Can Believe In
    INT. STAGE – DAY
    (JOHN MCCAIN and SARAH PALIN in front of a green screen. He just can’t get away from them.)

    JOHN
    People like to bandy the word ‘change’ around a lot. My opponent–

    SARAH
    Our opponent.

    JOHN
    (flinching like a frequently whipped dog)
    Yes Sarah. Our opponent wants you to believe change comes from diplomacy, compromise, and hard work. That’s simply not true.

    SARAH
    That’s right, John. Real change comes from magic rings.

    (John and Sarah brandish IDENTICAL RINGS on their upheld fists.)

    SARAH (CONT’D)
    Magic rings stolen from alien teenagers!

    JOHN & SARAH
    Wonder Twin powers, activate!

    SARAH
    Shape of…a Bald Eagle!

    JOHN
    Form of…a puddle of dirty water! Just like the water on the floor of the cage I spent six years in being tortured daily. When I was a war hero.

    (Sarah and John transform into a bald eagle and puddle of
    water respectively. Still able to speak, though.)

    SARAH
    I’m a small-town girl with small-town values. Values like honoring the symbol of our great nation and honoring our great war heroes.

    JOHN
    Barack Obama called my running mate a pig. Does she look like a pig? No. She’s a majestic eagle.

    (Sarah-eagle touches wingtip to John-puddle.)

    JOHN & SARAH
    Wonder Twin powers, deactivate!

    (In a flash, Sarah and John revert to their normal forms.)

    SARAH
    The big-city elites want to take your guns away.

    JOHN
    They want to teach your preschoolers about sex.

    SARAH
    They want to take your pickups and SUVs away.

    (Sarah and John touch rings…)

    JOHN & SARAH
    Wonder Twin powers, activate!

    SARAH
    Form of…a completely safe and unthreatened polar bear!

    JOHN
    Shape of…a piece of Arctic glacier, undisturbed by liberal lies about global warming.

    (Sarah and John transform again. Sarah-bear stands atop John-ice.)

    SARAH
    My opponent–

    JOHN
    (timidly)
    –actually, he’s my opponent, Sarah.

    SARAH
    Right. Our opponent wants you to drive a hybrid. Or walk! He wants you to believe in global warming. Well, I’m from the great state of Alaska and I can tell you, it’s
    not getting any warmer!

    JOHN
    Well, it is getting warmer, Sarah. But the science isn’t conclusive as to whether our actions have anything–

    SARAH
    –I said it’s not getting warmer, John!

    JOHN
    Right. Sorry, Sarah.

    JOHN & SARAH
    Wonder Twin powers, deactivate!

    (Sarah-bear and John-ice touch and transform.)

    SARAH
    Every day I wake up, I have to worry about the threat of Russian invasion. Barack Obama wants to disband the military and send all your children to madrassas. That’s not change we can believe in.
    (beat)
    This is change we can believe in…

    (Sarah and John touch rings again…)

    JOHN & SARAH
    Wonder Twin powers, activate!

    JOHN
    Shape of…a bucket of tears. The tears I cried each night after the Vietcong had tortured and beaten me trying to make me turn against America. America, the greatest
    country on Earth!

    (John transforms into a bucket of tears. It’s magic. Don’t ask.)

    SARAH
    Form of…a moose!

    (Sarah transforms into a moose.)

    JOHN
    That’s quite a set of antlers you’ve got there, Sarah.

    SARAH
    What? Oh. Moose! Where’s my gun!

    (Sarah-moose runs in circles a few times, finds a tophat, pulls a lion out of it…)

    SARAH
    Guess I don’t know my own strength.

    (Sarah-moose pushes the lion back in and pulls out a rifle and shoots herself!)

    JOHN
    Sarah! Sarah, are you alright?

    (Sarah’s dead.)

    JOHN
    Oh, great. Now I’m stuck like this.

    EXT. PODIUM – DAY
    (Bunting and flags everywhere on this cold January day. It’s inauguration day. JOE LIEBERMAN stands behind a dais holding John-bucket-of-tears up to a microphone.)

    JOE
    John, John!
    (calling off stage)
    Someone get me a hotplate! The President’s frozen again!

    BLACKOUT

  • Friday Night Sketch War: Funeral Edition

    Last week’s reunion special got me a bit melancholy, thinking about the ultimate reunion. When all your friends and family (or, in my case, a county official and anonymous creamatorium worker) get together to celebrate who you were and how you lived. Brings a tear to my eye. A tear, because a cinder from your remains got in my eye!

    This week’s challenge sees four warriors (once David stopped washing his damn hair) on the field of battle.

    • Coyote spied on a lackey’s funeral…
    • Michael sent a ghost to do his bidding…
    • Ken sold me a new coffin…
    • David made a [adjective] [noun] of death.

    Next week’s topic is selected by Michael: change. Same call for sketches as always…if you wanna show us the funny, email sketchwar_AT_dreamloom.com.

  • FSW: Funeral Edition

    “Funeral” was Richard’s theme and he’s already up and running with a clever sketch.

    Nothing from Ken yet, so we’ll have to wait and see what he comes up with.

    Dave still has that just washed glow so I’m not sure if he’s joining us this week or not.

    As for next week’s theme, since it’s a word I haven’t heard enough the last couple of weeks, let’s go with Change.

    I’ll Be Back

    (A funeral home. Everyone is dressed in black. A closed casket sits at the center of the aisle. Julia stands and addresses the crowd.)

    JULIA: Friends. Family. People who just showed up for the free food. It’s so good to see you all here today. I’m sure Henry is looking down on all of us and smiling. Smiling because so many of his friends have come to pay their respects. Smiling because he died doing what he loves, helping little, old ladies cross the street. Smiling, because he died owing large sums of money to all of you. If you’ve come looking to collect I’m afraid I have bad news. We don’t even have the funds to give him a proper burial. And the suggestion that we hack his corpse into tiny pieces and let dogs eat then shit him out, while colorful, isn’t really in keeping with the spirit of the day.

    (A number of people rise, grumbling and exit the room.)

    Julia: We’re here to remember the kindness and love that he shared with us.

    Steve: He borrowed my books and never returned them.

    Kate: He told me I had a fat ass.

    Greg: He always ate my lunch whenever I brought it to work.

    Voice From the Back of the Room: Come on. We can do better than that can’t we?

    Julia: Henry? Is that you?

    (Henry stands in the back. Everyone gasps.)

    Julia: You’re alive!

    Greg: I knew it was too good to be true.

    Henry: No, no, I’m dead. I just wanted to come back and check out my funeral. It’s not going as well as I had hoped.

    Julia: Well, it appears that you weren’t the best guy to know.

    Henry: Me? Come on. We all have quirks that we’re ashamed of.

    (Looking at those gathered. He points to a woman in the front row.)

    Henry: Like Jenny here. She steals money from her senile grandmother. Or Max over there. I took his pedophilia secret to the grave with me. And Jeremy.

    (He looks around the room.)

    Henry: Where’s Jeremy?

    (A hand raises toward the back corner.)

    Henry: Jeremy here is the one that pushed me in front of that train.

    (A gasp from the crowd.)

    Henry: Right, huh? That’s shittier than eating someone’s peanut butter sandwich every day. Right?

    Greg: Well…

    Henry: But don’t worry, Jeremy. I didn’t come back to haunt you. I came back to forgive you.

    Jeremy: Uh…Thanks.

    Henry: That and I wanted to deliver the good news myself.

    Jeremy: Good news?

    Henry: I’m going to be reincarnated as your son!

    (Henry hugs Jeremy.)

    Jeremy: That’s going to be tough seeing as I don’t have a girlfriend I have no plans to settle down.

    Henry: I know, right. But that high school girl you’ve been diddling is about to call you and tell you she missed her period.

    Jeremy: But we always use a…

    (Jeremy’s cell phone rings)

    Jeremy: (Into phone) Hello?….Hey, babe, can I call you right…What?…Aw shit!…Are you sure?…

    Julia: You get to choose who you want to come back as?

    Henry: Only in certain cases. I wasn’t supposed to die for another forty-seven years, so since I got short changed with that life, I get to pick how I want my next life to go.

    Julia: The whole thing?

    Henry: Pretty much. It’s going to be rough for a while. Being the child of a high school senior is never easy. But it helps build character. Besides, my grandparents are loaded. And I grow up to be the most powerful man in the world.

    Julia: You’re going to be The President of the United States?

    Henry: No. CEO of ExxonMobile.

    Jeremy: (Hangs up the phone) Well, smart guy. Stephanie and I are going to meet to discuss our options.

    Henry: What options are those? Dad.

    Jeremy: Well, I think the only smart thing to do is abort you.

    Henry: (Gasps) You’d kill me twice?

    Jeremy: What’s to kill. You’re a zygote at this point. A teeny-tiny blob of jelly.

    Henry: Haven’t you heard? Life begins at the moment of conception. What about the soul?

    Jeremy: Well, the way I look at it. If you’re supposed to be the baby, but you’re still here, then that means there isn’t a soul to worry about.

    Henry: You’re an evil, liberal bastard.

    Jeremy: Evil? You’re the one that decided to seek revenge by planting yourself in Stephanie’s uterine wall.

    Henry: You haven’t seen the last of me. There’s still time to come back as a mountain lion or a crocodile or grizzly bear. You better be careful where you vacation because you never know where I’ll be lurking.

    Jeremy: Yeah, but with the increase in global warming and more and more park land used for drilling and mining, most of the top food chain predators will be extinct soon.

    Henry: Yeah, well, you better hope I don’t come back as a…a…spider or something. I’ll lay eggs up your nose and then you’ll be sorry.

    Jeremy: I’ll keep plenty of Raid handy just in case.

    Henry: Balls!

    (Henry storms off.)

    Julia: Are you really going to talk her into having an abortion?

    Jeremy: Why not? Neither one of us wants to be a parent. Besides, she’d be six months pregnant when cheerleading try-outs roll around. Some things are just more important.

    Julia: True.

    Blackout