Sketch War

Tag: Apocalypse

  • FSW: The Apocalypse is Coming…from all sides

    Alrighty everyone – it’s been a lllloooonnnnggggg day. 3 hour meetings and late improv workouts do not make for early sketch publishing.
    But at long last, here’s my foray into apolypse-land (our theme as given by Michael last week).
    So far, no sketch entry from the recently emancipated Richard, but Michael (who’s probably wondering if he’s playing alone this week due to my tardiness) gave us a blast from the future \ past.
    I’ll update as needed….which (if memory serves) will include me choosing our next theme (since I think it’s rotated back to me).

    UPDATED: While I was playing a mind-controlling dicator on the planet Berkeley (in an improvised Star Trek show at BATS in San Francisco) Richard played with genetics, and let me know that it is indeed my turn for theme picking.

    So….our theme for next week is: Bailout
    (I just pulled that out at random…no idea where it came from)
    __________________________________________________________
    INT. – LIVING ROOM – DAY
    A nice middle class living room with a big comfy sofa, coffee table, and a large TV – nothing fancy, just an inviting place to relax. STEPHEN enters, talking to his wife offstage

    STEPHEN
    Let me know if you want any help with the dishes honey…I’ll be watching “24”.

    STEPHEN sits on the sofa, picks up the remote control and turns on the TV.

    TV ANNOUNCER (V.O.)
    Wall Street continued it’s free fall today, losing another 300 points on news that existing housing has hit a 25 year low. The dollar dropped sharply again, and crude oil prices are expected to go up as a result.

    The sound of a horse galloping comes from offstage. STEPHEN gets up and goes to the window to see what’s going on. DEATH, wearing a long black robe, with his head covered by a black hood, appears from a cloud of smoke on the opposite side of the room.

    DEATH
    Behold and tremble!!! For, I, Death, herald of the four horsemen, have come on my pale horse, as the seventh trumpet sounds and the seventh seal is opened. Look upon me and despair, for the day of judgement is nigh!!!

    STEPHEN has to process this for several moments.

    STEPHEN
    Is….is that your horse on the lawn?

    DEATH
    Yesssssssssss. The Pale Horse of Death.

    STEPHEN reacts to a sudden bad smell in the air

    STEPHEN
    Ummmm…is that, ummm, smell….well, not to be rude, but is that your breath?

    DEATH
    Yeessssssssssssss

    STEPHEN
    That’s..wow…that’s uhhh, pungent.

    DEATH
    It is the smell of souls burning in the eternal flame of repentance. Souls that will soon be joined by far more, for I am the harbinger of the coming Apocalypse.

    STEPHEN
    Coming…ahhh….umm, when?

    DEATH
    When the Lamb of God, the Son of Man, has opened the seventh seal on the scroll of the covenant.

    STEPHEN
    God?

    DEATH
    He that is the beginning and end, the alpha an omega, maker and destroyer of all things, who gave his only son to purge the sins of this world. I am his horsemen, his herald of the apocalypse.

    STEPHEN
    Ummmm…wow, this is awkward but, we’re not Christian.

    DEATH
    His wrath will be…

    STEPHEN
    Look, I’m sorry to interrupt, but we’re not Christian. I don’t think…

    Another puff of smoke, and a swarthy, muscled, middle-eastern looking man with a long trumpet (literally, not a euphemism) wearing a small white toga appears – ISRAFIL. He blows a long loud blast from his trumpet, then speaks with a middle-eastern accent

    ISRAFIL
    The great battle approaches! True Muslims hear my call and rise up! The Dajall comes with his unholy army of Christians and nonbelievers. Allah commands me, Israfil, his angel, to blow the horn and summon true Muslims to the final battle of judgement and victory.

    ISRAFIL blows his trumpet loud and long.

    STEPHEN
    Look, would you mind not doing that here. My neighbors live really close, and my wife hates loud noises.

    ISRAFIL
    I must summon good Muslims to the final battle of judgement where they will smote the Christians and non-believers before receiving their final reward.

    STEPHEN
    Ooookkkaayyy….look, we’re not Muslims here, so blowing your horn will only summon the cops.

    DEATH
    You shall hear the horns when the seventh trumpet sounds

    STEPHEN
    No, please..one trumpet is plenty – we don’t need seven.

    ISRAFIL
    (to DEATH)
    Who be you? You are shrouded like a woman, but I cannot tell if you be woman or man.

    DEATH
    I am Death, rider of the pale horse, herald…

    STEPHEN gets between DEATH and ISRAFIL, and places his hand over DEATH’S mouth

    STEPHEN
    (to ISRAFIL)
    Don’t get him talking, please.

    STEPHEN checks to see both DEATH and ISRAFIL aren’t going to do anything stupid, then starts speaking to them again.

    STEPHEN
    Look, ummm….guys, Angels, heralds…whatever you are, we’re not Christians or Muslims here. I appreciate the warning, really. But you should find some good Christians, aor good Muslims, people who want to prepare for this Apocalypse thing, who stand to gain something from the Apocalypse. I mean, what can I do? I lose no matter what. I’m gonna get smote or eternally burned right?

    ISRAFIL
    Yes

    DEATH
    Yesssssssssssssssssss

    Both ISRAFIL and STEPHEN react to the smell of DEATH’S breath again.

    STEPHEN
    But neither of you is here to kill me outright, right?

    ISRAFIL
    No

    DEATH
    (breathily)
    Noo..

    STEPHEN cuts DEATH off and puts his hand over DEATH’s mouth

    STEPHEN
    Just…nod

    DEATH shakes his head “no”

    STEPHEN
    Good, so tell people who can benefit from knowing the Apocalypse is coming, cause if I’m the one who finds out first I’m going to feel guilty….

    MAGOG now appears in a cloud of smoke. He has long gray hair with the ringlet curls of a Hacidic Jew, a long gray beard, and speaks with a Yiddish accent

    MAGOG
    Guilt? What know you of guilt? I must attack Israel to start Armageddon, so God can destroy me. What do I know about attacking people? I should just let God win, but no, someone’s a stickler for scripture…

    STEPHEN
    That’s….look I’m sorry to hear that but I’m not Jewish, and I really don’t want to be the one knowing Israel is going to be attacked by some vengeful angel…

    MAGOG
    Angel, Ha! I wish!

    ISRAFIL
    Israel will fall in the final battle of judgment!

    MAGOG
    Listen to Mr. Macho. That’s some attitude for a trumpet-toting diaper wearer.

    DEATH
    All shall perishhhhhhhhhh……

    Everyone reacts to DEATH’S breath

    MAGOG
    You know, if you ate more you wouldn’t have such a sour stomach. Skin and bones, this one….without the skin

    ISRAFIL
    Food shall have little meaning when the battle…

    MAGOG
    Violence is no solution, Mr. Too Much Testosterone

    ISRAFIL
    Jewish dog

    MAGOG
    Sticks and stones

    ISRAFIL
    I shall…

    DEATH raises his head and exhales loud and long. STEPHEN steps in the middle of the room

    STEPHEN
    HEY!!! KNOCK IT OFF!!! Look you guys. Enough, okay? I’m not Christian, I’m not Jewish, I’m not Muslim – I’m an atheist all right? I believe all this Armageddon apocalypse stuff is just bullshit…stuff made up by people to keep other people in line. And even if it IS real, well, then I’m just fucked. Fucked for not being Christian Jew or Muslim, fucked for doing the right thing but not doing it in the name of some organized religion. So warning me does squat – it just scares the crap out of me waiting for you actually destroy the universe, and being helpless to stop it – so either get on with it or shut the hell up!

    ISRAFIL
    But we must Herald the Apocalypse for those true of faith.

    DEATH and MAGOG nod in agreement

    STEPHEN
    Honestly, “those of true faith” are completely fucked too!!! Look, you all have some apocalypse where your followers are saved, right?
    (They all agree)
    Then everyone who believes something other than your faith represent gets fucked, which means NO ONE SURVIVES. Jewish apocalypse, Christians and Muslims are fucked. Christian apocalypse, Muslims and Jews are fucked. You see what I’m saying?

    ODIM now appears in a cloud of smoke, with flowing golden hair, a magnificent golden beard, wearing a Viking helmet and lavish robes like something out a Wagnerian opera. He speaks with a booming voice and Swedish Accent

    ODIN
    The days of Ragnarok are upon us and I, Highfather Odin, have come to Midgard…

    ODIN sees the others, then continues speaking in a higher pictched voice, with a slight lisp.

    ODIN
    Oh my God, you guys are hear too?

    DEATH, MAGOG and ISRAFIL all nod. ODIN looks at Stephen, then whispers to the others.

    ODIN
    He doesn’t look Nordic.

    DEATH, ISARFIL AND MAGOG
    He isn’t!!!

    Everyone looks at each other during a long quiet pause, thinking over what STEPHEN said.

    ODIN
    Did I come at a bad time?

    STEPHEN
    Look guys…I can’t tell you what to do, but why not go back to the Gods who sent you…

    ODIN
    I sent myself…I’m my own god

    STEPHEN
    Fine…Odin go think things over someplace, everyone else go back, talk to your respective gods, and tell them that an apocalypse should wait – it’s not going to help your followers or anyone else, and no one can win, okay?

    ISRAFIL, DEATH, ODIN and MAGOG all sort of mumble and agree. They dejectedly walk towards STEPHEN’s front door, and exit

    MAGOG
    (to DEATH as they exit)
    Look, I know a great deli – you want to grab a bite? Just looking at you is making me hungry.

    ODIN
    (to ISRAFIL as they exit)
    Do you workout? I like to work out, but I can’t wear togas – too cold in Asgard and they make me look so hip-y, but it looks good on you.

    STEPHEN shuts the door behind them, then goes back and sits on the couch to watch TV.

    Lights flash, and smoke billows again. This time, the TERMINIATOR steps out.

    TERMINATOR
    I am a Cyberdyne systems model T100 terminator. I have been sent back in time to proctect you. Come with me if you want to live and stop the Judgment day that brings about my future.

    STEPHEN just stares at the TERMINATOR for a moment. Then stands up.

    STEPHEN
    Honey, I’m going out for a bit – just gotta take care of something.

    STEPHEN and the TERMINATOR exist through his front door.

    BLACK OUT

  • 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