Sketch War

Category: Sketches

Sketch Entries from the warriors

  • Happy Birthday, Ken

    INT. RESTAURANT – NIGHT

    Six white dudes sit around a table in a manly, meat-oriented restaurant. Glasses of beer sit at various levels of fullness in front of each man, a half-full pitcher in the center of the table.

    KEN

    That was great, guys. Thanks.

    DAVE

    It’s not over yet.

    KEN

    You mean?

    PETER

    Oh yeah!

    INT. HOTEL ROOM – NIGHT

    KEN sits blindfolded on a straight-backed chair in the middle of the room. The other five men sit facing Ken in a rough circle.

    KEN

    Guys, this is awesome. Thanks.

    MICHAEL

    You deserve it.

    A CLOWN walks into the room holding a seltzer bottle in one hand and a cream pie in the other.

    KEN

    Is she here yet?

    RA

    She?

    The clown sprays Ken in the face. He removes his blindfold and immediately gets a pie in the kisser.

    KEN, DAVE, PETER, MICHAEL, RA, DAVID W.

    Happy Birthday!

    KEN

    You guys!

    The clown pulls another cream pie from behind his back and puts it square in Kens face.

    BLACKOUT:

  • Spelling Bee

    (A spelling bee. A banner stretches over the stage reading “The Rolaids Regional Spelling Bee.” Below it, several kids with numbers on their chests sit in folding chairs. One kid, SUSIE, stands at the microphone, her face clenched in concentration. An AUDITOR sits at a nearby table, waiting to hear her speak.)

    SUSIE
    May I have the company of origin?

    AUDITOR
    It comes from The Olive Garden.

    (pause)

    SUSIE
    May I hear it in a sentence?

    AUDITOR
    “The free breadsticks with my entrée were just one example of the Hospitaliano I have come to expect from The Olive Garden.”

    SUSIE
    Hospitaliano. H-O-S-P-I-T-A-L-I-A-N-O. Hospitaliano.

    (PING! A bell rings, signifying that this is the correct answer. A smattering of applause. SUSIE sits down. TIMMY approaches the microphone.)

    AUDITOR
    Your word is, “Slickery.”

    TIMMY
    May I hear it in a sentence?

    AUDITOR
    “With cold and flu season upon us, my family’s comfort is more important than ever. That is why I rely on N’ice brand throat lozenges to make my family’s throats feel Slickery.”

    BILLY
    Slickery. S-L-I-C-K-E-R-Y.

    (PING! A smattering of applause. TIMMY sits down. AMBER approaches the microphone.)

    AUDITOR
    Your word is, “Noid.”

    AMBER
    May I hear it in the form of a sentence?

    AUDITOR
    “The Noid has one nefarious desire: to make pizzas cold and unpalatable.”

    (BILL PULLMAN enters and speaks directly to us.)

    BILL PULLMAN
    Is this the kind of world you want to live in? Hello, I’m Bill Pullman. And what you see behind me is part of a future that is all too possible. With plummeting funding for our nation’s schools, and corporate interests taking over every aspect of our lives, our children may soon no skills outside of mindless consuming. And that will allow the Chinese to come over here and crack us open like a walnut.
    (He smiles.)
    W-A-L-N-U-T. Walnut.

    (BILL PAXTON enters and speaks directly to us.)

    BILL PAXTON
    A commercial telling you not to listen to commercials?
    (Looks to BILL PULLMAN.)
    Nice logic, spaz.
    (Back to us.)
    Do you want to live in a world of condescending, pedantic PSAs? Neither do I. I’m Bill Paxton, and I’m here on behalf of the Advertisers of America. Sure, you could stop paying attention to us. If you don’t mind the collapse of brand loyalty. If you don’t mind giving up your dreams of luxury and status. If you don’t mind Americans losing their standing as the best damn consumers in the world.

    (BILL PULLMAN steps forth and claps BILL PAXTON on the shoulder.)

    BILL PULLMAN
    Advertising is the Castrol motor oil that keeps the world turning. The Scharffen Berger chocolate bar we dangle in front of the donkey of industry.

    BILL PAXTON
    If we maintain the strength of our desires, we needn’t worry about the weakness of the economy.

    BILL PULLMAN
    And together, we can crack the Chinese open like a delicious Emerald walnut.
    (winks)
    E-M-E-R-A-L-D.

    (BLACKOUT. CAPTION: “Three Minutes Earlier.”)

    (Lights come back up. BILLS PULLMAN and PAXTON are gone. JOHNNY stands at the microphone on stage.)

    AUDITOR
    Your word is, “Advertising.”

    JOHNNY
    May I have a definition?

    AUDITOR
    Advertising: the action of bringing something to the attention of the public, usually through paid announcements.

    JOHNNY
    May I hear it in the form of an unwieldy, self-reflexive piece of sketch comedy?

  • FSW: Advertising Edition (Michael’s Entry)

    FADE IN:

    INT. BANK TELLER LINE – DAY

    MARK, well dressed and handsome, is standing in line waiting to cash a check. He notices GARY, dressed in drab, ill-fitting clothes, holding a sack of change. Gary looks at his watch.

    MARK

    That’s a nice watch.

    GARY

    Oh, thanks. My mom got it for me.

    MARK

    Same one Tiger Woods wears.

    GARY

    Oh yeah? I’m not really a golf watcher.

    MARK

    Who is? No, I just like the products the man pitches. He has good taste.

    GARY

    I guess I never put much thought into celebrity backed endorsements.

    MARK

    Well, you should. It used to take me hours to get dressed in the morning because all of my clothes were like yours, boring and un-endorsed. But now…

    Mark begins pointing out articles of clothing, starting with his shoes and moving up to his sunglasses. (Shoes, socks, pants, belt, shirt, jacket, sunglasses.)

    MARK

    Clooney, Gere, Depp, Pitt, Pitt, Eastwood, Dempsey. The cologne is by Federline and the boxers are Michael Jordan slash Cuba Gooding, Jr.

    GARY

    Wow.

    MARK

    Thanks. I know. You should try it.

    GARY

    I’d give my left nut for some fancy, advertised clothes.

    MALE VOICE (O.S.)

    I did.

    Everyone turns to see LANCE ARMSTRONG, dressed very fashionably, stroll into the shot.

    GARY

    Seven time Tour de France winner and Subaru pitchman, Lance Armstrong?!

    Lance speaks directly to the camera.

    LANCE

    Thanks to the generous folks at Celeb’s Threads dot com, now you can purchase celebrity endorsed items at deep, deep discounts. Look like Johnny Depp, in the pages of Vogue, without feeling like you had to pay with the family jewels.

    Lance waves his arm and there’s a bright flash and now Gary is also very stylishly attired. And in place of his sack of change, he now carries a man-bag with a small yippie dog in it.

    GARY

    Wow. Thanks Celeb’s Threads dot com!

    LANCE

    You’re welcome, Gary. Or should I say McDreamy?

    They laugh. Everyone admires what the other is wearing as the logo, a lemming wearing Hugo Boss, appears on the screen.

    ANNOUNCER

    Celeb’s Threads dot com. Celebrity fashions at trailer park prices. Because, let’s face it, we all want to look like someone else.

    FADE OUT:

  • FSW: Advertising Edition (Peter’s entry)

    Friday Sketch War
    Advertising Edition
    “The ServTech Focus Group”

    FADE IN:

    INT. MEETING ROOM – DAY

    DAVE (30s, sharply dressed) and SAM (20s, nerdy) sit at a big table.

    Behind them sits an easel with a poster covered by a sheet. Dave has a clipboard on the table in front of him.

    Around the rest of the table sit ENGINEERS with name tags, including PHIL, RONALD, and HARPER.

    A video camera next to the exit door records the proceedings.

    Dave addresses the engineers —

    DAVE

    — so I’ll show you a new slogan for Sam’s company, and we’ll talk about how you customers feel about it.

    The engineers murmur agreement.

    DAVE

    Great! So: drumroll…

    He removes the sheet, revealing a slick “ServTech” poster that reads —

    DAVE

    “Solid. Secure. Servers.”

    Dave picks up his clipboard.

    DAVE

    Now, my first question is —

    PHIL

    Wait, Dave.

    DAVE

    Yes, Phil.

    PHIL

    So this is saying that we don’t know how to properly operate a server?

    DAVE

    I’m not sure I —

    PHIL

    I see this, I think, “Oh, sysadmins are too boneheaded to fix a system on their own.”

    HARPER

    As if they’re giving us the easy, safe, kindergarten scissors.

    SAM

    People, ServTech doesn’t think —

    DAVE

    Sam? Great. Keep those opinions coming. Obviously, nobody thinks you’re stupid.

    RONALD

    Oh, so now you’re coddling us?

    HARPER

    Like children in a delicate garden.

    RONALD

    Yeah! That’s what this ‘secure’ crap is about. You think we’re all just a bunch of neurotic whack jobs?

    SAM

    It means the *servers* are —

    DAVE

    Sam. Good, just let it all —

    SAM

    They’re jumping to conclusions that are crazy!

    RONALD

    “Crazy?!”

    General distress.

    RONALD

    This ad is just ServTech’s coded little way of saying sysadmins are crazy.

    HARPER

    Like foxes afflicted with herpes.

    SAM

    People —

    DAVE

    Sam.

    SAM

    Look, if you talked to any other sysadmins, they’d tell you this is unreasonable.

    RONALD

    What’s that supposed to mean?

    PHIL

    Sam is telling us we don’t have any friends.

    RONALD

    Oh, that’s low.

    HARPER

    The slogan really means, “Solid and secure, unlike you pestilential hordes who are fated to die alone, friendless, and in some quantity of your own vomit.”

    SAM

    What?

    PHIL

    This is, without question, the most offensive slogan I have ever! had the misfortune to lay eyes upon.

    RONALD

    I ain’t putting up with this crap.

    Murmured assent.

    The engineers get up and leave.

    The last engineer slams the door behind him.

    DAVE

    That slogan is a no-go.

    SAM

    Yeah. We can’t offend our customers like that.

    DAVE

    We’ll go with the previous slogan?

    SAM

    Yeah.

    Dave removes the “Solid. Secure. Servers.” poster to reveal the ServTech poster under it, which reads —

    DAVE

    “ServTech: because other servers will go down on you, and suck really hard.”

    CANNED AUDIENCE LAUGHTER.

    Sam and Dave react to this noise.

    SAM

    Where the hell did that laughter come from?

    DAVE

    I don’t know —

    Dave draws a gun.

    DAVE

    But I’m gonna find out.

    Sam produces an automatic and a wicked-looking knife.

    SAM

    Let’s go.

    Sam kicks open the door.

    They exit.

    FADE TO BLACK.

  • Advertising Edition: R.A.’s entry

    INT. OFFICE – DAY

    TITLE – Mitchell-Bell, Inc. New York 1962

    GARETH MACLAREN (early 30s, wan with thinning hair) sits opposite BARRY NEWCOMB (a late 20s go-getter with moviestar looks). Hair and suit styles are appropriate to the mid-1960s. Whenever he’s not speaking, Barry peers intently, like a detective divining motive.

    BARRY

    We’re not the first agency you approached, are we Mr. MacLaren?

    GARETH

    No. No, I’ve been all over town. Spent an hour at Sterling-Cooper while their Creative Director waxed eloquent about something or another.

    BARRY

    Draper’s very good.

    GARETH

    He certainly seemed to think so.

    (Beat)

    Took a meeting at McMann and Tate, but the copywriter never showed up. Sat in a board room with Tate while a crow kept tapping on the window like it wanted to come in and pitch. Very awkward.

    (Beat)

    I even met with Rock Hunter.

    BARRY

    He’s become quite successful.

    GARETH

    Seems to have spoiled him.

    BARRY

    Well you certainly have a sticky problem, Mr. MacLaren. But I’m not clear why you think there’s money in it.

    GARETH

    My father believed there was. He came to America with the clothes on his back and spent the rest of his life building a company by anticipating what the public wanted before they knew they wanted it. Before he died, he told me this was the one goal he never achieved.

    (Beat)

    I think I owe it to my father, for all he sacrificed and all he accomplished, to do this for him. Can you help?

    BARRY

    There’s no ad campaign we can create that can help you.

    GARETH

    So you can’t help me either.

    BARRY

    I didn’t say that, Mr. MacLaren. I’m facing facts. No one else in town came up with anything either because, forgive me, the idea is just crazy.

    GARETH

    Maybe it is. But I’ve got to try. You won’t help?

    Barry ponders a moment.

    BARRY

    You said your father knew what people wanted before they did, right?

    GARETH

    Yes.

    BARRY

    Then maybe this is an R&D problem, not an advertising problem. At least not an advertising problem for today.

    GARETH

    I see where you’re going.

    BARRY

    You see Mr. MacLaren, Mitchell-Bell is part of a much larger concern–

    INT. OFFICE – DAY

    TITLE – Mitchell-Bell, Inc. New York 1992

    Barry and Gareth are joined by MELINDA RESTON (20s and casually dressed) in his updated office. Barry looks even more dashing with silver hair. Gareth is wiry and fit with a few wisps of gray hair all that remains. The two older men wear suits.

    BARRY

    Just skip to the bottom line, Melinda. How close are we.

    MELINDA

    At least another 30 years.

    BARRY

    That can’t be! We’ve been running non-stop since ’62.

    GARETH

    Barry, that’s what my people are saying as well. I’ve just accepted that it’s a bigger problem than we realized and I may not live to see the day.

    BARRY

    Melinda, is there anything we can do?

    MELINDA

    I think so. We’ve been seeing a lot of success with the campaigns on the new Hummers. We think maybe pushing in that direction might help. We can spur the public to embrace a whole new class of what we’re calling Sport Utility Vehicles.

    BARRY

    How much will that help?

    MELINDA

    We think we can soften the ground considerably. Maybe cut the total time in half.

    BARRY

    That’ll have to do.

    INT. CONFERENCE ROOM – DAY

    TITLE – Mitchell-Bell, Inc. New York 2010

    Barry and Gareth are still plugging away. Barry’s aging like Paul Newman, Gareth like Abe Vigoda. The lights are dim and the room is filled with young men and women in casual attire. The light of a monitor flickers on everyone’s face.

    From the speakers, the recognizable CLINK, CLINK of two ice cubes being dropped in a glass followed by the fizzy sound of a carbonated beverage being poured.

    Zoom in on TELEVISION showing ad.

    INT. BAR – NIGHT

    ICE CUBES land in glass. Cola is poured into the glass.

    NARRATOR (O.S.)

    Mmm. Cool, fresh, invigorating. Nothing refreshes like MacLarens.

    The glass sits on a black velvet tabletop. Nothing is visible beyond the glass. The ice cubes glint as they bob in the sparkling amber fluid.

    NARRATOR (O.S.) (CONT’D)

    MacLarens Ice. Now available in Alaska.

    Zoom out to reveal…

    EXT. STREET – TWILIGHT

    The television is in the window of a small electronics store. The sign above reads NANOOK’S TV AND RADIO. An ESKIMO stands in front of the window watching. He wears shorts, t-shirt, and flip-flops. As the commercial ends, he turns and we see a SINGLE TEAR run down his face.

    BLACKOUT:

  • FSW: Advertising Edition (Ken’s Entry)

    Okay…I’m an idiot. Yes, I did briefly post this Friday, wondering why everyone else didn’t post yet. And then my tiny little brain went “oh yeah, this is the week we’re waiting until Monday”

    So…ummmm….sorry, and….my bad.

    Meanwhile, back at the ranch…

    What Superbowl would be complete without a car commercial, huh? So here’s my little homage to Detroit’s marketing machine, and some ideas of how they can get back on track in tough times.
    _____________________________________________

    FADE IN:

    EXT. TEXAS PLAINS – DUSK

    The sun sets over a rugged orange desert plain, scattered with scrub brush, cactus and purple rocky outcroppings. A camp of cowboys sits around a fire. One cowboy, DYLAN, square jawed handsome and rugged, crouches over a fire and pours coffee into a tin cup as he looks past the herd of cattle watching and sees distant lightning on the horizon. Acoustic guitar strums start in the soundtrack, and a male singer with a Springstein \ Mellencamp type voice and a country-rock twang starts singing.

    SINGER (V.O.)

    There’s a hard wind blowin’
    ‘Cross the world today
    Storm clouds are building
    And skies look gray

    CUT TO:

    EXT. TEXAS PLAINS – NIGHT

    It’s now raining very hard in the night – a major storm. Our cowboys are on horseback herding cattle through a torrential downpour. They are just shadows occasionally lit by lightning strikes. DYLAN makes some impressive cutting moves on his horse

    SINGER (V.O.)

    But when things get bad
    And times look rough
    Americans buckle down
    And get tough

    Another young, but handsome cowboy, CODY, looks over the side of the cliff his horse is near when a lightning strike nearby spooks his horse. The horse rears up in and CODY is thrown over the side of the cliff (all in slow motion).

    CLOSE UP ON DYLAN

    DYLAN sees CODY go over the cliff, and immediately spurs his horse over in a mad gallop(all in slow motion)

    SINGER (V.O.)

    We don’t walk away
    When we’ve got a tough fight
    We grab our neighbor’s hand
    And we push through the night

    CUT TO:

    EXT. CLIFF – NIGHT

    CODY barely hangs on to a wet rocky handhold. He struggles to hang on as he sees the huge drop below, but his gloves are giving way. Just as CODY slips completely, DYLAN’s manly hand grabs his. DYLAN grimaces in determination as he hauls CODY back up from certain death.

    CUT TO:

    EXT. TEXAS PLAINS – NIGHT

    As they stand back up on terra firma, DYLAN and CODY walk back to CODY’s horse. CODY still looks shaken, but unflappable DYALN claps him on the back, then hands CODY the reins to the horse that just threw him. CODY climbs back up, and DYALN strides back over to his own horse. They get back to the business of herding cattle in the rain.

    CUT TO:

    EXT. TEXAS PLAINS – MORNING

    The sun starts rising over the plains in a brilliant rain-free collage of orange, red and pink. Flowers are everywhere now, in full bloom from their soaking in the night, and dripping clean raindrops on the ground. DYLAN and CODY look at each other, and confidently nod with only the vaguest hints of smiles on their lips.

    SINGER (V.O.)

    You know you’ll make it through
    No matter how far
    You’re American tough
    Now buy a fuckin’ car

    CUT TO:

    EXT. SUBURBAN FRONT LAWN – DAY

    A man, his wife, and two boys (BOTH about 8 years old), all dressed in really ugly western wear stand in front of a big black SUV. Text fades in on screen:
    CHEVY TAHOE
    IT TAKES HUGE BALLS TO DRIVE A VEHICLE NAMED AFTER A PLACE BEING WRECKED BY IT’S EMISSIONS

    SINGER (V.O.)

    We hired famous singers
    And used their big hits
    We made tons of commercials
    Showing girls with big tits

    But you bastards went out
    And bought Japanese
    You stuck us with thousands
    Of SUV’s

    CUT TO:

    EXT. HIGHSCHOOL PARKING LOT – DAY

    A man in his early 50’s stands in front of super-shiny red Corvette. The man is dressed like he belongs in a boy band, but his large pot belly and wind-swept toupee give him away.
    More text fades in on screen:
    CHEVY CORVETTE
    BECAUSE NO OTHER CAR IN THE WORLD SAYS ‘RECENTLY DIVORCED, IN DENIAL, AND EASILY MANIPULATED’ THE WAY WE CAN

    SINGER (V.O.)

    (chorus)

    We lost our private jets
    Cause no one bought Corvettes
    The UAW
    Has us totally screwed
    We know we’re making trash
    But man, we need the cash
    So get American tough
    And buy our fuckin’ cars

    (bridge)

    Now we know your money’s tight
    And times have gotten lean
    But we still run this company
    Like it’s 1913

    Becoming more efficient
    Just ain’t in our plan
    We’ll just pump you full of guilt
    Until you buy American

    CUT TO:

    EXT. BEACH – DAY

    A charcoal gray Chevy Malibu sits in front of the sand, waves carrying surfers crash in the background. A guy and a girl, both in their twenties, exit the Malibu wearing bathing suits and sunglasses, and run down to the beach. Text fades in:
    CHEVY MALIBU
    YES, WE KNOW NO ONE WHO LIVES IN MALIBU WOULD EVER BE SEEN DEAD IN THIS CAR. BUT YOU PROBABLY KNOW PEOPLE WHO’D BE IMPRESSED BY JUST THE NAME, AND THINK IT MUST SOMETHING REALLY EXOTIC. JUST DON’T EVER THEM SEE YOU DRIVING IT.

    SINGER (V.O.)

    (back to verse)

    Some people want a hybrid
    Then go out and buy a Prius
    But buy an eco-friendly foreign car
    Is just like pissin’ on Jesus

    Stop worrying ‘bout tomorrow
    Life can be an endless Summer
    Just speed up global warming
    And buy a big ol’ Hummer

    CUT TO:

    EXT. WHEAT FIELD – DAY

    A blue Chevy Volt sits in front of a field of waving wheat. Text fades in on screen:
    COMING SOON – CHEVY VOLT
    STILL WON’T BE OUT FOR OVER A YEAR, AND WILL PROBABLY HAVE PROBLEMS EVEN THEN. BUT IF YOU BUY ONE OF OUR CARS NOW, YOU CAN ACT SMUG LATER ON BECAUSE YOU BOUGHT FROM A COMPANY THAT MAKES GREEN CARS (IF THIS THING EVER DOES GET TO MARKET)

    SINGER (V.O.)

    (back to chorus)

    We lost our private jets
    Cause no one bought Corvettes
    The UAW
    Has us totally screwed
    We know we’re making trash
    But man, we need the cash
    So get American tough
    And buy our fuckin’ cars

    Please buy our fuckin’ cars

    (this keeps repeating through the end, fading out a little each time)

    The screen fades into closeup of a waving American flag, then the Chevrolet logo fades up.
    Titles fade up on the screen over the logo:
    CHEVROLET
    ALL AMERICAN
    AND IF YOU DON’T BUY A CAR FROM US YOU’RE A GOD-HATING TERRORIST FAGGOT DOUCHEBAG…AND EVERYONE WILL KNOW IT

    FADE TO BLACK.

  • Advertising: David’s Entry – Lie to Me Baby

    INT. Conference Room Day
    Jerry Kline, (Balding, middle aged with thick glasses) stands at the end of a long table. Lined up at the table are a group of advertising gurus with briefcases open, laptops and Blackberries lit up and sharpened pencils at the ready.Kline turns to the white board behind him.
    KLINE
    The key, ladies and gentlemen, is money. More to the point…
    He draws a stick figure with a quick almost violent motion and then jabs the marker at the board where the hip pocket should be.
    KLINE (CONT’D)
    Their money. We need it. They probably need it too, but who cares? How do we get it.
    MARTINA (thin, waspish with cat’s eye shaped glasses) raises a pen in the air.
    MARTINA
    Lie?
    KLINE
    Exactly. That is why we are here. We are living the lie. We are living BY the lie. We are lying to ourselves about what we do so we can justify the lie. So…feed my addiction. Give me some lies.
    BART, (short, stout, late twenties w/freckles) stands up.
    BART
    I have an idea I’d like to share.
    KLINE
    I didn’t ask for ideas.
    BART
    How about if I lie and tell you it’s another lie – then present the idea?
    KLINE
    Interesting.
    BART
    I’d be lying if said I didn’t think so.
    MARTINA
    Just tell us what you’ve got, Barty, we don’t have all day.
    BART
    (winks at Martina)
    I think we should go a new direction with the company logo.
    MARTINA
    The logo?
    KLINE
    I hope you’re lying.
    Laughter ripples up and down the table. Bart ignores them.
    BART
    What is the one thing our clients expect of us?
    KLINE
    Lies.
    BART
    Exactly. But lately, some of that has come back to bite us in the ass. Like the time machine.
    Kevin, a thin ferret-faced man in his mid forties glances up and cuts in.
    KEVIN
    Hey! We sold truckloads of time machines. The client couldn’t be happier.
    BART
    There were a FEW issues with customers…we did tell them it was a time traveling device.
    KLINE
    It tells time.
    MARTINA
    It didn’t travel…
    KLINE
    But you can travel WITH it…and hey, how about that commercial where you go to sleep, and it’s one time – when you wake up? The future?
    BART
    In any case, we’ve gotten ourselves an unfortunate reputation…it’s hurting business.
    KEVIN
    But…if they know we are lying, what’s the problem? We lie too well?
    BART
    It’s the negative connotation … the semantics. Here is what I propose.
    Bart unfolds a cardboard stand and flips a sheet of paper over, turning it so all can see. Emblazoned across the page is the face of a cartoonish albino lion.
    KEVIN
    I don’t get it.
    MARTINA
    I do! It’s a White Lion.
    KLINE
    We have to shrink it.
    BART
    Exactly.
    He flipped the page again, and the same image stared at them. This time there was text. The logo read.
    “Little White Lion”
    KLINE
    I like the honesty…

  • FSW: Borders Edition (Peter’s entry)

    Friday Sketch War
    Borders Edition
    “52.3°N, 119.9°E”

    FADE IN:

    EXT. BORDER CROSSING – DAY

    A little hut occupies a desolate, rocky landscape. Truly the middle of nowhere.

    A worn sign reads “Border Crossing” in Russian, Mandarin, and English.

    LUBOV

    (Russian, subtitled)

    I spy with my little eye —

    INT. BORDER PATROL STATION – CONTINUOUS

    LUBOV (20s) and BOROVICH (30s), military men, play chess in the shabby little hut. The hut contains the bare necessities — an old communications radio, some tin pots and pans, and (oddly) a taser.

    Both men speak subtitled Russian throughout.

    LUBOV

    — something beginning with the letter ‘S’.

    BOROVICH

    (immediately)

    Sky. Go.

    Lubov makes a move; Borovich makes him take it back.

    BOROVICH

    Not that, Lubov. You do that, I get your queen.

    LUBOV

    Oh! I spy something beginning with ‘R’.

    BOROVICH

    (immediately)

    Rocks.

    Lubov picks up the taser.

    LUBOV

    You’re great at ‘I Spy’!

    BOROVICH

    That’s not a toy.

    Lubov shoots the taser’s little electrical clips into the huts ceiling. It makes a BZZT sound.

    Lubov notices something out the window.

    LUBOV

    Huh. Now I spy something that starts with ‘M’.

    BOROVICH

    ‘M’? What, outside?

    LUBOV

    There’s a man out there.

    EXT. BORDER CROSSING – DAY

    Lubov (taser in hand) and Borovich stand outside the little hut.

    XIAO is running full-tilt towards the border station.

    Lubov nervously raises the taser.

    Borovich pushes Lubov’s hand down.

    BOROVICH

    Stop! This is a protected border!

    Xiao doesn’t stop; Borovich grabs Xiao.

    Xiao only speaks in subtitled Mandarin.

    XIAO

    I’m being chased by a man with an axe!

    Lubov picks a little book out of his pocket, thumbs through it quickly.

    BOROVICH

    What’s he saying?

    LUBOV

    It’s “I am…” — here it is — “I am enjoying my morning run.”

    BOROVICH

    He can’t — you can’t run here! It’s the border!

    XIAO

    I don’t speak Russian! There’s a guy with an axe!

    Xiao mimes appropriately.

    LUBOV

    He really wants to cross.

    BOROVICH

    Hmm.

    EXT. BORDER CROSSING – DAY

    Now all three men occupy the little hut.

    Borovich places the last chess piece into the starting position.

    BOROVICH

    Simple. You win a game of chess, and you can cross.

    LUBOV

    Is that legal?

    BOROVICH

    Who cares? I haven’t played decent chess in seven months.

    LUBOV

    Hey!

    XIAO

    What?

    BOROVICH

    Your turn.

    Xiao and Borovich start playing, blindingly-fast.

    In the background, Lubov tries to juggle the taser, a pot, and his hat.

    LUBOV

    It’s lucky you showed up. Things were getting a little dull here at crossing #5201/B.

    XIAO

    What?

    Lubov digs out his little book as Xiao and Borovich continue their game.

    LUBOV

    (Chinese, subtitled)

    We are happy for your dog because we have spoons here.

    XIAO

    I’m so confused.

    BOROVICH

    Huh! I lost! Already!

    Borovich shakes Xiao’s hand.

    BOROVICH

    Well-done.

    LUBOV

    Wait! He also has to — uh — juggle these things!

    BOROVICH

    Lubov, a deal’s a deal.

    LUBOV

    But it would be fun. Right? Sir?

    EXT. BORDER CROSSING – DAY

    Xiao stands in front of the building with the taser, the hat, and the pot in his hands.

    Xiao looks confused.

    Lubov mimes juggling.

    Xiao juggles —

    LUBOV

    He’s really good.

    BOROVICH

    He gets to cross into Russia, no question.

    Meanwhile, a crazed BRUTE WITH AN AXE appears behind the two men and raises his weapon to strike Lubov.

    Xiao notices this, stops juggling, and shoots the madman (with the taser). The brute drops, unconscious.

    Borovich, of course, only sees Xiao shooting at them — he jumps towards Xiao and punches Xiao out cold.

    BOROVICH

    Lubov. You gave him the taser?!

    LUBOV

    Uh, sir?

    They both look at the felled brute.

    BOROVICH

    Are you sure the visitor said ‘morning run’?

    LUBOV

    Not 100%.

    BOROVICH

    Hmm.

    Borovich points to the brute.

    BOROVICH

    Tie him up with something.

    Lubov produces a length of rope from his pocket and starts tying the brute’s hands.

    LUBOV

    What’ll we tell command?

    Borovich ponders a moment, then points to the brute.

    BOROVICH

    We’ll say he’s an evil spy —

    Lubov props the axe against the hut.

    Borovich checks Xiao’s pulse, props him up against the hut.

    BOROVICH

    — and this guy is a valuable informant — someone we need to detain for further questioning.

    LUBOV

    That’s an excellent plan, sir!

    Borovich opens the hut’s door, drags Xiao in.

    BOROVICH

    It’ll be good to have this guy around.

    Lubov follows Borovich in and closes the door.

    FADE OUT.

  • FSW: Borders Edition (Ken’s Entry)

    Wow….who knew I’d be the last one posting at 10:00 am Pacific time.

    This here sketch war is heatin’ up….
    (and welcome back Michael!)
    __________________________________________________________________

    EXT. SOUTHWESTERN DESERT – NIGHT

    JUAN, JORGE and ESTEBAN, all three Mexican men in their early 30’s dressed in ragged dirty clothes, crouch-walk through scrub brush under a night sky, talking in hushed tones.

    JUAN

    We are almost there mi hermanos…almost there.

    JORGE

    Madre de Dios! At last! We have made it!

    ESTEBAN

    My wife, my children, please forgive me for leaving you.

    JORGE

    You have no choice my brother! We leave that they may survive.

    JUAN

    Si Esteban! We cross the border so you can find good work, so you will make good money. When their bellies are full with the food they buy with the money you send back, they will understand…they will bless your name.

    JORGE

    Shhh! Do you wish to alert the border patrols?

    ESTEBAN

    I pray you are right my brothers.

    JUAN

    Let us go, now, with no regrets. Let us go where the money still has value, where there are still jobs to be found, where our lives are not at the whims of corrupt men.

    JORGE

    The border is just there. Run fast, run quiet, and do not look back.

    JUAN extends his arm, hand open palm down, and looks at the others. JORGE’s face tightens in determination as he clamps his hand down over JUAN’s. ESTEBAN pauses, thinking, in turmoil. But he too tightens his jaw in determination and smack his hand down over the other two.
    Just as the three men stand up and start to run, they are hit by bright search lights. They freeze shielding their eyes as BOBBY RAY and JIMBO enter, pointing shotguns at the three.

    BOBBY RAY

    Well lookee here Jimbo. Looks like we got three little illegals tryin’ to cross the border.

    JIMBO

    Looks like.

    BOBBY RAY

    Now just where in the name of Jesus did you three think you was goin?

    ESTEBAN

    Please…just, let us go. For the sake of our families, please let us cross.

    BOBBY RAY

    Did I hear that right Jimbo? Is he askin’ us, a couple of duly authorized Minute Men, to let him just slip across this here border and pretend like we didn’t seen nuthin’?

    JIMBO

    Sounds like.

    BOBBY RAY

    Well how bout this, ‘Pedro’. How bout you three get your asses right back where they belong pronto before I lose my temper.

    JUAN

    Mister, please, have mercy, there is nothing left for us in this country…

    BOBBY RAY

    GODDAMN IT!!! I am gonna to count to three and y’all best be steppin’ away from that border….1…..2….

    JUAN, JORGE and ESTEBAN step back. BOBBY RAY and JIMBO walk over beside them.

    BOBBY RAY

    We can’t have you boys leavin’ the U.S. just yet – Uncle Sam needs all the cheap labor he can get right now. Y’all go on with Jimbo and he’ll give drive you back into town.

    JUAN, JORGE and ESTEBAN exit following JIMBO. BOBBY RAY shoulders his shotgun and shouts after them.

    BOBBY RAY

    And you tell you’re other illegal immigrant buddies that we’re watching – ain’t none of you gettin’ back into Mexico ‘til OUR economy’s fixed.

    Titles fade in over the silhouette of Bobby Ray Standing with his shouldered shotgun:
    "THE MINUTE MEN – KEEPING AMERICA’S CHEAP LABOR INSIDE AMERICA UNTIL WE’RE READY FOR THEM TO LEAVE"

    FADE TO BLACK.

  • FSW: Borders Edition (Michael’s Entry)

    EXT. PARKING LOT – DAY

    A large, olive green tent is set up in a desolated parking lot. The remnants of burned out cars sit around it. The urban landscape is near ruin. There is a Red Cross painted on top of the tent. A long line of disheveled, sickly looking refugee-types are waiting their turn. A helicopter flies over, low enough that people duck their heads in worry, and is gone. In the distance, the sound of barking dogs. Or maybe gunfire.

    At the back of the tent stands KARRIE MOORE, 30s, British, tired but still lovely to look at. She takes a long drag off of a cigarette. She wears a yellow, plastic apron that is smeared with blood. A moment later, HENRI FALCONE, 40s, French, rakishly handsome, exits the tent, wiping his hands on a bloody rag.

    HENRI
    Those things will kill you, no?

    KARRIE
    (taking another drag)
    I’m trying to build up an immunity.

    HENRI
    Busy day today.

    KARRIE
    It’s been like this since we arrived.

    HENRI
    I’ve been working with Médecins Sans Frontières for over a ten years now. This is one of the worst places I’ve ever been sent.

    KARRIE
    They ever sent you to any good places?

    HENRI
    Just when they send me home. How about you?

    KARRIE
    This is my first assignment.

    HENRI
    And?

    KARRIE
    I can handle the blood. Gunshot wounds. Stabbings.

    HENRI
    That’s good considering this is practically a war zone.

    KARRIE
    It’s the children that get to me.

    HENRI
    Oui.

    KARRIE
    Their watery eyes filled with fear. We don’t have an immunization for that.
    (Beat)
    Makes me feel helpless. Like I’m doing nothing.

    Henri puts a hand on her shoulder.

    HENRI
    You’re doing more for them then their own people are. That’s not nothing.

    KARRIE
    You think they’ll ever come a time when we won’t be needed?

    HENRI
    We can hope, no?

    A shiny, black Cadillac Escalade pulls up and the tinted window slides down. The sound of children trying to talk over one another spills out. An overweight man leans out the window. He has a severe Texan twang.

    TEXAN
    Pardon me, Miss. Y’all wouldn’t be able to help us, would ya?

    KARRIE
    Is someone in need of medical attention?

    Henri sticks his head into the tent.

    HENRI
    Stretcher!

    TEXAN
    Oh no, no. It’s nothing like that. We’re all as fit as fiddles.

    The back window rolls down to reveal two very plump children sitting in the back seat, both sucking on super-sized sodas. They wave their pudgy hands at Karrie and Henri.

    TEXAN
    But we are lost.

    KARRIE
    Lost?

    TEXAN
    We’re trying to find the Henry Ford Museum, but this here map’s got us turned every which way. Who knew Detroit would be so confusing to drive around?

    HENRI (Under his breath)
    Merde.

    KARRIE
    I’m sorry, I don’t know where that is. But some of the locals might be able to help you.

    She points to the people waiting in line. Texan takes a look at them and cocks an eyebrow.

    TEXAN
    Uh, thanks. But I think we’ll just keep drivin’ around. We’re bound to come across it sooner or later, right. Thanks.

    He rolls up his window and begins to drive off. Two large McDonald’s bags are tossed out of the rear window before it slides back up. The stretcher bearers arrive.

    HENRI
    Sorry, false alarm.

    They go back into the tent.

    KARRIE
    You know what’s ironic? I always wanted to visit the states when I was a kid.

    HENRI
    At least they still have running water.

    KARRIE
    Yeah, but don’t drink it.

    They share a laugh. Karrie flicks her cigarette to the ground and steps on it, grinding it into the dirt. They head back into the tent.

    FADE OUT