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