Sketch War

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  • Christmas Skirmish: Ken’s Entry

    INT. OFFICE – DAY

    One very agitated man (MAN 1) stands in front of a bigdesk, while MAN 2 suit sits behind it.

    MAN 1

    (a bit pissy and "nelly")

    I KNOW I’m high maintenance, and I know I just take and take and take from this relationship without giving a thing. But you and I both know that I own your ass, and if you don’t give me a really big expensive package this Christmas, I will have a complete breakdown, blame YOU for it, and take everyone around me down too!!!

    MAN 2

    (with a slight Texas drawl)

    Fine, whatever it takes to shut you up…..I’ll give you 17 billion dollars now, but you have to share with Chrysler and Ford, and if you want any more money you’ll have to talk to congress after Obama is inaugurated and I’m out of here, okay?

  • Friday Night Sketch War: 3:34am Edition

    Coyote is temporarily indisposed, and has left it to me to sum up the latest Friday Sketch War. Since I’m lazy, I’ll subcontract the job out to Mr. Joey Weitzman:

    Alright, this week they didn’t <bleep> around, they were all, “Yeah, we’re so <bleep>ing hard we can do any <bleep>ing topic we want.”

    So somebody was all, “Oh yeah? <bleep> it, let’s write sketches about ‘3:34am’!”

    And another <bleep> was all, “That’s not funny at all!”

    And then they punched that guy in the face. And they said, “Yeah, this week’s <bleep>ing topic is 3:34am! We can do this <bleep> because we are bad-<bleep> mother<bleep>ers.”

    • So then Coyote writes this sketch about Jared, who’s just tryin’ to sleep, man. I’ll bet that, like, he’s really a ninja, and he’s all “<bleep> it, my master says not to bust out killing people,” and he’s all, like, conflicted and stuff.
    • And then Ken’s like, “Whut whut?” and he throws down this sketch about Santa. Yeah, you might think Santa’s all weak and <bleep>. Think again. Santa will <bleep> you up.
    • And finally Peter slammed down this one, which is like THIS CLOSE to having a unicorn in it. Yeah, you might think you’re awesome, but you’re sure as <bleep> not UNICORN-AWESOME.

    I don’t know which fighter won, but I do know for positively <bleep>ing certain that that “not-funny” lost. Yeah.

    Thanks, Joey!

    This coming Friday is the day after Christmas, so we have a unique holiday challenge. The “Sketch Skirmish” is to come up with the best two-line scene on the topic “Christmas Presents”. Then, on January second, we resume normal Sketch Wars.

  • Sketch War, "3:34am" Edition, Peter’s Entry

    Friday Sketch War
    3:34AM Edition
    “Building Maintenance”

    BLACKNESS

    A light SWITCHES ON to REVEAL —

    INT. CONFERENCE AREA – NIGHT

    SANJAY walks into an ad-hoc meeting-space in a vast, dark office floor. It has a couple of couches and a coffee table.

    A projection screen (now blank) occupies a nearby wall.

    A large mechanical device sits in the middle of the area.

    A wall clock tells us it’s 3:34. The darkened windows along the wall tell us it’s 3:34am.

    Sanjay wears a nice suit. He chugs down a big mug of coffee as he walks in.

    He puts down the mug. Takes a breath.

    A NOISE from the darkness.

    Sanjay peers around. Nothing.

    SANJAY

    Screen on.

    The projection screen blips on. It shows MR. ABBAS, sitting somewhere expensive and sunny and staring at the screen.

    MR. ABBAS

    Four minutes late.

    SANJAY

    Oh. I can explain.

    MR. ABBAS

    I’m kidding! It’s a joke!

    SANJAY

    Ha.

    MR. ABBAS

    You can be late — it is, what, three in the morning where you are?

    OMINOUS SOUNDTRACK MUSIC fades in on the office PA system.

    SANJAY

    We pride ourselves on professionalism, sir. We’re more than happy to accommodate your schedule, because…

    He trails off. Where the hell did that music come from?

    MR. ABBAS

    Is that music?

    SANJAY

    Yes. Is that a problem?

    MR. ABBAS

    No, just show this machine to me.

    SANJAY

    Of course, sir.

    In the background, a JANITOR enters and lays a long piece of brightly-colored TAPE on the floor. Sanjay hasn’t noticed him yet —

    SANJAY

    This is just a model of the EP-71, but — bwah!

    That’s Sanjay noticing the janitor.

    MR. ABBAS

    What?

    SANJAY

    Just one moment, sir. Screen off.

    Screen blips off.

    The janitor finishes laying down the length of tape. Sanjay just stares at him. By way of explanation —

    JANITOR

    Tuesday night. So I tape.

    — and off he goes.

    SANJAY

    Screen on. Sorry, I —

    MR. ABBAS

    I have no time. Show me this machine! Now!

    SANJAY

    This is just a model, but it demonstrates —

    Janitor re-enters, dumping a pile of small beanbags behind the tape line. Off Sanjay’s look —

    JANITOR

    Tuesday!

    He re-exits.

    SANJAY

    — demonstrates the drilling capabilities of the real device.

    The janitor re-enters, moves the couches to the wall while Sanjay soldiers on.

    SANJAY

    The innovative design saves over 30% in spillage and —

    The janitor starts dragging the machine away.

    SANJAY

    Screen off!

    Screen blips off.

    SANJAY

    What the hell! What are you doing?

    JANITOR

    Tuesday!

    SANJAY

    Please just leave this machine here. Please.

    Janitor shrugs, exits.

    SANJAY

    Screen on.

    Screen blips on.

    SANJAY

    Sorry about that. Now —

    ANNE (O.S.)

    Lightning bolt!

    A beanbag hits Sanjay in the head.

    SANJAY

    What?

    And suddenly a bunch of EXECS, including ANNE and the CEO, rush in.

    They’re dressed in Ren Faire/fantasy costumes, brandishing Nerf swords, and throwing beanbags at one another while shouting D&D spell names: “Magic missile!”, “Heal!”, et cetera. (Anne only ever says “Lightning bolt!”)

    The CEO wears a hood that conceals his face.

    They nearly knock Sanjay down in the bustle.

    The CEO triumphantly jumps behind the tape.

    CEO

    Aha! The forces of Melchior have activated the magic wall!

    Anne throws a beanbag at him.

    ANNE

    Lightning bolt!

    CEO

    ‘Magic wall’.

    ANNE

    Sorry.

    The CEO sees the beanbag pile.

    CEO

    And now we have a stash of new spells!

    A few execs cheer.

    SANJAY

    What are you people doing?

    The CEO pulls back the hood.

    CEO

    Live-action D&D, Sanjay.

    SANJAY

    Oh. Boss. Hi.

    MR. ABBAS

    This is not good! And unprofessional!

    CEO

    You’re meeting with Abbas now? During the game?

    SANJAY

    Game?

    CEO

    Fix this.

    The CEO leads the EXECS away.

    CEO (O.S.)

    This castle is protected by an evil wizard! We must escape!

    Sanjay faces the screen. Mr. Abbas is not happy.

    SANJAY

    I — this isn’t — let’s get back to the machine —

    MR. ABBAS

    I’m kidding! It is fine. I play like that all the time. I am a fifth-level bard.

    SANJAY

    I — what?

    MR. ABBAS

    But — no time. Do this again same time tomorrow?

    SANJAY

    Okay. Sure.

    MR. ABBAS

    Screen off.

    The screen blips off.

    Sanjay collapses on a couch.

    ANNE (O.S.)

    Lightning bolt!

    A beanbag flies in from offscreen and hits Sanjay in the head.

    He lies down and goes to sleep.

    BLACKOUT.

  • Ken’s Entry – 3:34 AM editon

    I couldn’t resist a little Seasonal flavoring – so here’s my offering for 3:34 am:

    INT. BEDROOM – NIGHT

    ZACH and his wife MARION, both in their late 30’s / early 40’s, are asleep in their bed. The lights are out, the clock radio on the night stand shows 3:34, and the only illumination is a shaft of moonlight through the window. A light snowfall drifts lazily down outside.

    The bedroom door opens a sliver showing a little light from the hallway. Five or six small silhouettes creep inside the door. They move slowly and silently towards the bed. As they get about half way there it becomes obvious they are wearing some sort of high-tech head gear that goes over their eyes. They raise their hands to their eyes, and click an unseen switch. A quiet "whir" is heard, and a green glow comes from lenses over the figures eyes. The head gear is some sort of high-tech night vision. One small figure makes military-type hand gestures to the others, and they flank the bed. They hold position as the lead figure raises a fist in the air, then yanks it down quickly, as if to say "go". In a blur of motion the small figures strap ZACH and MARION to the bed with garland and gag them with oranges. One silhouette flips the light switch on in the room as the others tilt the bed up. ZACH and MARION struggle against their bonds to no avail. All of the small silhouettes are now revealed to be Christmas elves in camo face-paint, and black special forces-style gear (but with curly-toed shoes of course). One elf, PETEY, talks into his headset mic.

    PETEY

    Tree this is Trimming, over.

    TOMMY (V.O. ON MIC)

    This is Tree, go Trimming.

    PETEY

    Tree, nothing is stirring, not even a mouse. Send in Big Red.

    TOMMY (V.O. ON MIC)

    Roger, Trimming. Big Red is inbound.

    The door opens again, and SANTA walks in, looking a bit pissed. He walks slowly over to the bed where ZACH and MARION struggle against their bonds.

    SANTA

    Soo….Zach and Marion Webster, of 425 Willow Drive. That you?

    ZACH and MARION nod slowly.

    SANTA

    And you got three lovely, lovely children…Austin, Dylan and Cailyn?

    ZACH and MARION nod yes again.

    SANTA

    WE need to have a little talk. Petey here is going to remove those oranges so we can talk, nice and civilized. We can be grownups here, right?

    ZACH and MARION nod again

    SANTA

    But one shout and my boys will go to town on you.

    PETEY holds up a stuffed Christmas stocking.

    SANTA

    Those are filled with broken candy canes. They don’t leave bruises but they mess you up inside. We understand one another?

    MARION and ZACH nod yet again, their eyes a lot wider now. SANTA nods to PETEY, and PETEY gestures to the other elves to remove the oranges. ZACH and MARION inhale sharply.

    ZACH

    You’re…I mean you look like…

    SANTA

    Santa Claus…Kris Kringle, Saint Nick, Father Christmas whatever you want to call me.

    MARION

    But..you’re nice…why would you…

    SANTA

    Bind a torture a nice couple like you?

    ZACH

    Torture?

    SANTA

    Maybe…depends.

    MARION

    On what?

    SANTA

    On how cooperative you plan on being.

    ZACH

    You’re Santa Claus…we’re happy to help you out any way we can.

    SANTA

    Oh yeah? Then tell me…Austin, Dylan and Cailyn….naughty or nice?

    ZACH and MARION look at each other. SANTA gestures to PETEY. Several elves move in and whack ZACH with filled Christmas stockings. ZACH winces in pain.

    SANTA

    I thought you were gonna be all cooperative with jolly old Saint Nick?

    MARION

    We’ll cooperate! We’ll cooperate!

    SANTA

    So are they naughty or nice, Marion?

    MARION

    I…I…

    SANTA

    Naughty or nice??? Answer me!!!

    SANTA gestures and the elves whack Marion with the stuffed stockings.

    ZACH

    Stop it! Please!

    SANTA

    Answer me!

    MARION

    I thought knew these things…you know, "sees you when you’re sleeping, knows when you’re awake"?

    SANTA

    Well you thought wrong. Watching Children 24 / 7 is immoral. I don’t know what pedophile freak decided to attribute that to me, but if I ever catch the son of a bitch I will personally stuff that mother fucker down his own goddamn chimney.

    ZACH

    Spying on children is wrong but torturing parents is okay?

    PETEY moves to hit ZACH with the sack again but SANTA waves him off. SANTA goes over and grabs ZACH’s face.

    SANTA

    Look my friend, there is a war on. I pop down the wrong chimney one night and BOOM! I’m a hostage with a ransom video showing 24/7 on Al Jazeera. Maybe I some bad naughty-versus-nice intelligence on some kid, so I give him a that robotic Lego thingy he wants. Next thing I know his making improvised explosive devices and dropping them by the side of the road. Nuh uh…I’m not taking any chances – I’m taking matters into my own hands and making DAMN sure I know who’s naughty and nice.

    MARION

    You’re Santa…no one wants to hurt you. You’re a symbol of goodness and generosity.

    SANTA

    Exactly…I’m a symbol, a very public and well known symbol. People would love to take me down, or catch me being nice to some seriously naughty fucker….ruin my reputation, incarcerate me for aiding and abetting a known naughty. Goddamn liberal press would eat me alive.

    ZACH

    Wow…you are seriously paranoid. You sound like a republican.

    SANTA

    I’ve been GOP since Eisenhower, jerkwad.

    MARION

    Wait…you really ARE republican?

    SANTA

    No shit Mrs. Sherlock. You think I wear red because it’s slimming?

    ZACH

    We didn’t mean any insult…

    SANTA

    I’m goddamn proud to be republican. Hell, Nixon was the one that got me keeping lists and checking them twice. I used to fly Christmas Eve recon missions over Cambodia for that administration in the early 70’s. In hindsight, I shouldn’t have given him that audio tape shredder though. The damn Bushes are in-laws – or did think that uncanny resemblance between Barbara Bush and Mrs. Claus was a coincidence?

    MARION< /p>

    Times are changing…the world is changing.

    SANTA

    Don’t remind me. All my wiretap authorizations are being revoked, you can’t get a free pass from the justice department anymore, no matter how much you donate to the GOP. I’ll probably be forced to close my internment camp at the north pole too, and put all the detainees on trial.

    ZACH

    You have an internment camp?

    SANTA

    Gitmo North. For the super-naughty.

    MARION

    Santa, things are changing all over, fast. People are tired of being paranoid, tired of fear mongering, tired of being at odds with the rest of the planet. We need hope, not renegade gunslingers.

    ZACH

    That’s right. Everyone in the world is struggling with the economy now, and we’re all just trying to find ways to stay afloat. We don’t need a symbol who only gives gifts to the people HE thinks are deserving. We need someone who gives generously and freely to all, regardless of color,creed or politics.

    SANTA

    Even the gays?

    ZACH and MARION look at each other for a moment, thinking.

    MARION

    That’s still your call really. But be the person you started to be. Be that symbol of kindness and unconditional love. Take a few things on faith, and give the world what it needs most….hope.

    SANTA pauses and thinks.

    SANTA

    You stole that speech from Barack Obama didn’t you?

    ZACH and MARION shrug as if to say "You caught us"

    SANTA (CONT)

    It’s a good speech though.

    SANTA pauses again and thinks more

    SANTA

    Petey, untie them.

    PETEY

    But Santa…

    SANTA

    Just do it. And then let’s go – we’ve got a lot more gifts to give out than we planned on.

    PETEY gestures to the other elves, and they remove the garland that ties ZACH and MARION to their bed

    PETEY

    (into headset mic)

    Tree, this is Trimming. We’re standing down. Roof evac in 3 minutes.

    SANTA

    (to ZACH and MARION)

    You two better be right. I’m going to take a few things on faith, and I’ll probably give presents to some questionably naughty people. If anything goes down it’s on your heads.

    ZACH

    You won’t regret it Santa. It’s time to reach out and rejoin the world and get past this “us and them” mentality.

    MARION

    Right, and you’ll see we can all come together to rebuild America, liberal and conservative.

    SANTA

    Only a liberal would say that.

    MARION

    Sorry.

    SANTA

    Look….sorry about the tying-up thing. I’ll make sure there’s a new Prius in your driveway tomorrow morning, okay? Elves, we’re pulling out. Petey, take point.

    PETEY and the elves exit through the bedroom door. SANTA gets to the door, stops and turns around.

    SANTA

    And…umm, Merry Christmas.

    ZACH

    Merry Christmas to you Santa!

    MARION

    And goodwill to all!

    SANTA

    God I hate liberals.

    SANTA exits. BLACKOUT

  • Jared at 3:34AM

    INT. JARED’S APARTMENT, BEDROOM – NIGHT

    TITLE: MONDAY

    JARED sleeps alone. Young and nebbishy, at least what we can see poking from under the covers. An old-school FLIP CLOCK reads 3:33AM. It flips…

    …and three car alarms go off simultaneously. Jared pops up, reaches for the alarm clock, realizes the noise is outside. He lies back down and stares at the ceiling.

    INT. JARED’S APARTMENT, BEDROOM – NIGHT

    TITLE: TUESDAY

    Same place, same time. Jared sleeps. The clock reads 3:33AM. It flips…

    …and we hear Jared’s party girl neighbors walk under his window laughing and screeching drunkenly. He pops up, and immediately lies back down, sighing loudly.

    INT. JARED’S APARTMENT, BEDROOM – NIGHT

    TITLE: WEDNESDAY

    The clock at 3:33AM again. It flips. No sound for a few tantalizing seconds and then…

    …the beeping and crashing of a garbage truck under the window. Jared wakes, grabs his pillow and tries to cover his ears.

    INT. TRAVEL AGENT’S – DAY

    TITLE: SEVEN HOURS LATER

    Jared sits across from MABEL, in her 60s with crudely dyed hair. She hands him a small PACKET and he smiles and shakes her hand.

    INT. HOTEL ROOM – NIGHT

    TITLE: THURSDAY, HOTEL DEL SOL, MEXICO

    A gentle breeze shifts the sheers on the patio slider, causing the light of the moon to shimmer and dance across the bed. Jared sleeps in the fluffy, oversized bed, so peaceful. The CLOCK at the side of his bed reads 3:33AM. It changes and…

    the sounds of a Mexican Hat Dance roll loudly through the open door. Jared opens his eyes wearily.

    INT. TRAVEL AGENT’S – DAY

    TITLE: 12 HOURS LATER

    Jared’s animated right now. Mabel points to POSTERS – Hawaii, Jamaica, Miami – Jared shakes his head violently. He points and Mabel looks in shock.

    ANGLE ON POSTER

    Iceland: Land of the Midnight Sun

    INT. HOTEL ROOM – DUSK

    TITLE: SATURDAY, 36 HOURS LATER, ICELAND

    Muted light filters in through a window. The super-cool, oh-so modern CLOCK next to the bed reads 3:33AM. It flips and…

    GOLFER (O.S.)

    Fore!

    There’s a whack of club on ball. Jared opens his mouth to scream and…

    CUT TO:

    INT. PADDED CELL – NIGHT

    Jared’s wrapped up tight in a STRAIGHTJACKET, but he has a huge smile on his face as he sleeps peacefully. No sounds are heard but his own gentle snoring. He opens his eyes and stretches as much as a man in a straightjacket can stretch. The door has a small viewport and we

    ANGLE OUT VIEWPORT

    On the nurses’s station. We see an old-school FLIP CLOCK change to 3:34AM.

    BLACKOUT:

  • Peter’s Commentary on the ‘First Dates’ Edition

    This past week, the Friday Sketch War topic was “First Dates”.

    We had three sketches this time around:  mine, Mr. Porter’s, and Mr. Robertson’s.

    All in all, I’m happy with how my sketch came out.

    Like the previous week, I was trying to move away from traditional scene-y sketches, and trade off plot for funny. I’d just seen SNL’s “Extreme Challenge” digital short, which is a complete “list sketch”, and I figured I’d try something like that. Or rather, I came up with a bunch of scene-y things I could do with the topic, hated all of them, and went with the “list of bad dates” idea that could let my imagination run amok.

    It felt kind of like a cop-out, since coming up with a list of jokes is easier than constructing a plot, and because I’d done this structure before. (And so have lots of people.) But I just kept scribbling down ideas that made me laugh, and laughter trumps everything.

    I was happy with how I structured the piece. I started out sensible and normal. I probably should have pushed 5 and 5b to position 3, but I think the general shape still works. And what I like is that by around 6 or 7, the audience honestly doesn’t think it could get further out there. Once you’ve played the ‘death’ and ‘ninja’ cards, you’re done, right? So I think what works here is hitting that ‘this can’t get any crazier’ point halfway through the sketch, and shooting straight past it to things the audience wouldn’t expect.

    Similarly-and-on-a-smaller-scale, I was happy when individual bits went further than the setup would imply they could go. For instance, there are two parts of the ‘chicken’ bit — you think it’s just an absurd bit, but no, there’s an additional joke about Wendy possibly eating Neil.

    (Side note: I’m amused with how geeky this came out. It’s probably the result of working on this post at the same time.)

    Other things in the sketch worked less well. The paddle-ball was a pretty weak runner, appearing only twice and not being particularly funny. I’m not sure #3 (the cop bit) quite reads. I knew I wanted “You didn’t make it clear that it *was* a date” as one of the items, but it was damned difficult for me to express that situation in a silent scene.

    Also, the sketch’s ending is a bit anticlimactic. Writing the end of a comedy sketch is always brutal, because sketches aren’t really about stories, they’re about jokes. Stories end; a series of jokes just stops. But if you’re writing sketch comedy that isn’t scene-based, then you’re even more screwed, ‘cos there’s no story at *all* — you either have to come up with a joke so hilarious that nothing can follow it, pull off a joke that reincorporates lots of earlier material, or tweak the premise in some cutesy way.

    I opted for the third route, with middling success.

    Anyway, hopefully I’ll do something more scene-like next time, although the topic (“3:34am”) looks to be a challenging one.

    So let’s see here — Mr. Robertson’s sketch is called “Honesty”, and shows us a met-on-the-Internet first date where the honesty gets crazily out of hand, covering pretty much every lie everybody ever put on a match.com profile.

    Mr. Porter’s sketch is about “the *first* date”, as in the Garden of Eden. This one didn’t really do much for me, and I’m not sure how I’d try to fix it.

    My only guess is that I’d try to ‘turn up the volume’ on everything: make Adam even *more* of a wide-eyed rube, make Lilith even *more* of a femme fatale — but also make the things Lilith ask for even more outré, and make Adam even more offended (or nonplussed) by them. And maybe focus on making Adam trying even harder to please Lilith — the internal conflict where Adam is diametrically opposed to everything Lilith stands for, but he still desperately wants to make her happy, could be funny if it played out for a bit.

    I think the ending works, though. Divine intervention seems like the logical conclusion for this piece. And even if the audience doesn’t get that it’s Lilith being replaced by Eve, the general idea comes across, I think.

    Anyway, next week is the topic “3:34am”. We’ll see what folks can come up with for that.

  • Friday Night Sketch War: First Dates Edition

    W00t! Welcome to the new home for Sketch War. In our first battle in the new stadium, three warriors gave their all. Ninjas, knives, guns, God’s wrath, lightning, and truthiness. Two talky-talky sketches against one without a word.

    Not bad for the first go ’round here in our new digs. I just wish I could figure out where the blood drains in the kill pit are.

    Next week’s topic is 3:34AM. Peter made three suggestions, two of them were nice and conventional. So of course I picked his third. But like Sky Masterson…

    My time of day is the dark time
    A couple of deals before dawn
    When the street belongs to the cop
    And the janitor with the mop
    And the grocery clerks are all gone.

    If you want to play along, write a sketch and send it, or a link to it, to sketchwarNOSPAM@dreamloom.com. And be sure to come back next Friday for more humor and mayhem.

  • Ken’s Entry: First Date – Honesty

    INT RESTAURANT – NIGHT

    JACK a man in his early 30’s, sits alone at table wearing a business suit with a cocktail in front of him. He checks his breath, checks his appearance in the back of a spoon of any other convenient shiny object, and all manner of things someone waiting to make a good impression would do.

    JILL, also in her early 30’s wearing a nice blouse and skirt, walks in and likewise checks her appearance. She looks around, sees JACK and walks over to him.

    JILL

    Jack?

    JACK

    Jill?

    JILL

    I thought that was…probably you.

    JACK

    Yeah, I don’t look a thing like my Match.com photo. I Photoshopped the hell out of it.

    JILL

    No worries! I’m 12 years older and 43 pounds heavier than mine!

    Both of them chuckle.

    JACK

    Have a seat. I’d stand up to get your chair, but the table is hiding the beer gut I said was a six-pack.

    JILL sits down.

    JACK

    So, will you be eating anything other than a salad tonight?

    JILL

    Not in front of you. I’m binge-ing later at home.

    JACK

    I was afraid you’d order something expensive, which I’d have to pay for in hopes I’d be repaid with sex. But I’d just end up resenting you after I ejaculate.

    JILL

    You’re not really a CEO rock guitarist stockbroker who writes poetry while rescuing puppies and infants are you?

    JACK

    Floor sales at Cell Phone Circus.

    JILL

    I’m not really an independently wealthy NFL cheerleader-slash-microbrewery heiress with porn star training.

    JACK

    I’m male – I had to take the risk just in case.

    JILL

    I don’t really skydive.

    JACK

    I don’t really like art museums.

    JILL

    I was never in a sorority.

    JACK

    I haven’t been in one since the restraining order.

    JILL

    I only watch Julia Roberts movies.

    JACK

    I only watch Adam Sandler movies.

    JILL

    I don’t have an apartment downtown.

    JACK

    I don’t have a penthouse.

    JILL

    I still live with my parents.

    JACK

    I have to break back into the ward before the 9:30 bed-check.

    JILL

    I’m not really a NASCAR fan.

    JACK

    I am.

    JILL

    I only wear granny-panties.

    JACK

    I only wear Depends.

    JILL

    My boobs aren’t real.

    JACK

    Neither is my hair.

    JILL

    (grabbing her breasts)

    This is just padding. My real boobs are really tiny.

    JACK says nothing , but glances at his crotch subtly.

    JILL

    But my butt is totally real.

    JACK

    So is my halitosis.

    JILL

    I’m here seeking self-esteem through the approval of others.

    JACK

    I’m hoping to get laid this year. I’ve only had one sexual partner.

    JILL

    I’ve only had one partner…while sober.

    JACK motions to an invisible waiter

    JACK

    (to waiter)

    Three Jack and cokes for the lady.

    JILL

    I get clingy and desperate in relationships.

    JACK

    We so much in common.

    JILL

    This is going so much better than most of my dates.

    JACK

    This honesty is turning me on.

    JILL

    It’s making me hot too.

    JACK

    Does that mean I’m going to get lucky?

    JILL

    Buy me the lobster and we’ll talk.

    BLACK OUT

  • Sketch War, "First Dates" Edition, Peter’s Entry

    Friday Sketch War
    First-Dates Edition
    “Thirteen Ways a First Date Can Go Wrong”

    FADE IN:

    TITLE GRAPHIC reads “Thirteen Ways a First Date Can Go Wrong”.

    CHEERY BOSSA NOVA MUSIC plays throughout. This is the only audio.

    FULL-SCREEN GRAPHIC reads “Thirteen Ways a First Date Can Go Wrong: #1”.

    INT. RESTAURANT – NIGHT

    NEIL and WENDY, dressed nicely, sit opposite each other at a table in an elegant restaurant.

    They both look bored.

    A SUBTITLE appears: “#1: Complete lack of chemistry.”

    Neil pulls out a paddle-ball and starts playing with it just before we CUT TO:

    FULL-SCREEN GRAPHIC reads “Thirteen Ways a First Date Can Go Wrong: #2”.

    INT. RESTAURANT – NIGHT

    Wendy sits at the table as before.

    Neil? Nowhere to be seen.

    A SUBTITLE appears: “#2: Mis-reading 8:30pm as 6:30pm.”

    FULL-SCREEN GRAPHIC reads “Thirteen Ways a First Date Can Go Wrong: #3”.

    INT. RESTAURANT – NIGHT

    Wendy sits alone at the table. A cell phone sits on the table beside her. A SIREN flashes somewhere offscreen.

    Neil enters DRESSED AS A COP.

    He sizes up the location, a bit perplexed. He says something into his radio.

    A SUBTITLE appears: “#3: You didn’t make it clear that it *was* a date.”

    Neil sees Wendy.

    Wendy waves at Neil coyly.

    Neil looks confused.

    FULL-SCREEN GRAPHIC reads “Thirteen Ways a First Date Can Go Wrong: #4”.

    INT. RESTAURANT – NIGHT

    Neil and Wendy sit at the table.

    Neil wears the traditional garb of Hasidic Judaism.

    Wendy wears a Nazi uniform.

    They both look awkward and uncomfortable.

    A SUBTITLE appears: “#4: Insurmountable cultural differences.”

    FULL-SCREEN GRAPHIC reads “Thirteen Ways a First Date Can Go Wrong: #5”.

    INT. RESTAURANT – NIGHT

    Neil sits at the table, bored to the point of nodding off.

    Wendy talks at him excitedly.

    A SUBTITLE appears: “#5: You can’t stop talking about the Second Punic War.”

    Wendy pulls out a large map as a visual aid.

    FULL-SCREEN GRAPHIC reads “Thirteen Ways a First Date Can Go Wrong: #5b”.

    INT. RESTAURANT – NIGHT

    Exact same scene as before.

    A SUBTITLE appears: “#5b: He refuses to listen to your brilliant commentary about the Second Punic War.”

    FULL-SCREEN GRAPHIC reads “Thirteen Ways a First Date Can Go Wrong: #6”.

    INT. RESTAURANT – NIGHT

    Wendy and Neil sit at the table. They both have plates of food. Neil’s head is face-down on the table. He ain’t moving.

    A SUBTITLE appears: “#6: Death.”

    Wendy slowly, furtively steals a bit of food from Neil’s plate.

    FULL-SCREEN GRAPHIC reads “Thirteen Ways a First Date Can Go Wrong: #7”.

    INT. RESTAURANT – NIGHT

    Neil and Wendy have a perfectly nice time. Nothing going wrong at all.

    A SUBTITLE appears: “#7: Attacked by ninjas.”

    NINJAS emerge from the shadows and carry them both off.

    FULL-SCREEN GRAPHIC reads “Thirteen Ways a First Date Can Go Wrong: #8”.

    INT. RESTAURANT – NIGHT

    Neil and Wendy have another perfectly nice time.

    A WAITER comes by and greets Neil.

    Suddenly, Wendy pulls out a GUN, points it at Neil, and starts yelling at him.

    Some COPS enter behind Wendy and do the same.

    A SUBTITLE appears: “#8: It’s actually an elaborate sting operation.”

    Neil jumps up, sweeps away half the stuff off the table, and grabs his fork and knife.

    Neil gets behind the waiter and holds the knife to the waiter’s neck. He brandishes the fork at Wendy & Co.

    FULL-SCREEN GRAPHIC reads “Thirteen Ways a First Date Can Go Wrong: #9”.

    INT. RESTAURANT – NIGHT

    Neil and Wendy enjoy a quiet moment.

    A salt shaker sits on the table.

    Wendy gestures at the salt shaker.

    It levitates about a foot off the table.

    Neil looks at Wendy with alarm.

    Wendy gestures the salt shaker back down.

    A SUBTITLE appears: “#9: You accidentally reveal your scary telekinetic powers.”

    An awkward moment.

    Wendy pulls out a paddle-ball and tries to distract Neil by playing with it.

    FULL-SCREEN GRAPHIC reads “Thirteen Ways a First Date Can Go Wrong: #10”.

    INT. RESTAURANT – NIGHT

    Neil and Wendy are having a pleasant time again.

    There is a flash of light, and a puff of smoke emanates from offscreen.

    OLDER WENDY enters and all but drags a reluctant Wendy away.

    A SUBTITLE appears: “#10: Later in life, you invent time travel.”

    FULL-SCREEN GRAPHIC reads “Thirteen Ways a First Date Can Go Wrong: #11”.

    INT. RESTAURANT – NIGHT

    Neil and Wendy chat.

    Neil disappears in a puff of smoke.

    In his place is a live chicken.

    A SUBTITLE appears: “#11: One of you turns into a chicken.”

    Wendy, all-but-entranced and nearly-drooling, picks up her knife and fork.

    ADDITIONAL SUBTITLE: “… a juicy, delicious chicken.”

    FULL-SCREEN GRAPHIC reads “Thirteen Ways a First Date Can Go Wrong: #12”.

    INT. RESTAURANT – NIGHT

    Neil and Wendy chat pleasantly.

    A SUBTITLE appears: “#12: Sudden, explosive bleeding from the eyes.”

    They continue to chat pleasantly.

    ADDITIONAL SUBTITLE: “(not shown)”

    FULL-SCREEN GRAPHIC reads “Thirteen Ways a First Date Can Go Wrong: #13”.

    INT. RESTAURANT – NIGHT

    Neil and Wendy have a wonderful time.

    A SUBTITLE appears: “#13: The date is fictional.”

    The DIRECTOR wanders into the shot and talks to Neil and Wendy.

    ZOOM OUT to include the rest of the set.

    A CAMERAMAN wanders in front of the camera, reaches around to turn it off, and we —

    BLACK OUT.

  • The First Date

    EXT. GARDEN – DAY

    Lush, jungle-like. Three tree stumps conveniently positioned as table and chairs. ADAM, grinning like a rube, and LILITH sit naked across from each other, hair and branches strategically concealing naughty bits. The brunette smolders and looks slinky even while seated.

    ADAM

    …and I call those goats.

    LILITH

    They stink.

    ADAM

    Yeah, I hadn’t noticed. The bigger ones, with the long hair, I call those yaks. Except those other ones over there? Those are gnus.

    Lilith glances where Adam points, then looks around anxiously.

    LILITH

    Where the hell’s the waiter?

    ADAM

    Waiter?

    LILITH

    Or waitress, whatever. To take our order? I’d kill for a drink.

    ADAM

    Oh, let me get you some pomegranate juice. I named that, too. And the strawberry, and the boysenberry…

    Adam’s voice trails off as he exits, still strategically obscured. Lilith sighs. As Adam comes back in view we hear him continue…

    ADAM (CONT’D)

    …and the huckleberry, and the chokeberry, and the–

    LILITH

    –You named all the berries, too. That’s great. So Adam, what else do you do? Besides naming.

    Adam hands Lilith a hollowed gourd and she drains it. She curls her lip and stares at the cup.

    ADAM

    I tend the fields and I tend the flocks and I–

    LILITH

    –Yeah. Hey sweetie? You got anything back there with a bit more kick?

    ADAM

    Kick?

    LILITH

    You know, something fermented?

    ADAM

    Nope. Just juice. You want some lingonberry juice?

    LILITH

    (sighing)

    No, I’m fine. Maybe something to eat?

    ADAM

    We’ve got barley porridge. I can top it with blueberries if you like. Or blackberries–

    A lamb, barely old enough to walk, stumbles up to the table.

    LILITH

    –What’s that?

    ADAM

    That’s a lamb. It’s a baby sheep. I also named sheep.

    LILITH

    That sounds good.

    ADAM

    The name pleases you?

    LILITH

    No, a lamb chop sounds good. Rare.

    ADAM

    You want me to make a sacrifice for God?

    LILITH

    No, I want you to make mint jelly for me.

    ADAM

    I don’t know how I feel–

    LILITH

    –Look, Adam. You’re a nice guy. Really. But you’re obviously busy with the…naming and the tending. I’m just not sure I feel a real connection.

    ADAM

    What about my rib?

    LILITH

    What about it?

    ADAM

    “And the rib, which the LORD God had taken from man, made he a woman, and brought her unto the man.” That’s me. I’m the man. You’re bone of my bones and everything.

    LILITH

    (sotto voce)

    That’s the only bone around here from what I can see.

    ADAM

    What?

    LILITH

    Look, I appreciate all that, but it’s not enough. There’s just no spark. I’d love it if we could be friends, though.

    Adam looks heavenward and shrugs. Lightning flashes, thunder claps, and when he looks back down he’s sitting across from EVE: blond, fair, and grinning like her mate.

    EVE

    (vapidly)

    What do you call that animal, Adam?

    BLACKOUT: