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