Sketch War

Tag: Dave Stinton

  • Pimp My TV: Dave Stinton’s entry

    (CAPTION: Los Angeles, CA. 1988.)

    (The Hollywood Sign is viewed from the sky on a bright, hazy Los Angeles afternoon. We hear a solo trumpet playing a soothing light jazz riff.)

    NARRATOR
    Tinsel Town. We’ve seen the glitter. We’ve seen the glamour. But who can bear to look upon what’s behind it?

    (The view spins 180 degrees and zooms in, and we are at ground level behind the Hollywood sign. Graffiti and garbage abound. But we become aware of the source of the music: a dapper man in a white linen suit playing the trumpet. He finishes his solo and gazes out on the landscape below.)

    (An URCHIN’s voice startles him.)

    URCHIN
    Man, you’re just like Gabriel!

    (The MAN looks down at the URCHIN and grins a pearly, crooked grin.)

    MAN
    Almost.

    (BLACKOUT)

    NARRATOR
    While all eyes are on the stars…

    (The darkness is pierced by several bright lights aimed directly at the camera.)

    NARRATOR
    …only the most hardened journalists can truly see them.

    (Television cameras swivel into place. We are on a soundstage. The MAN sits at a news desk next to a WOMAN. Behind them is a backdrop of Los Angeles at night. A PRODUCER counts down the seconds and cues them.)

    MAN
    Good evening, I’m John Tesh.

    WOMAN
    And I’m Mary Hart. Paul Hogan takes a break from the set of “Crocodile Dundee II” to have a chat with us…

    NARRATOR
    When Hollywood’s most sacred institution is threatened…

    (Cut to JOHN TESH on the phone in his coffee-cup strewn news office.)

    JOHN TESH
    Chevy Chase is planning to rig the Oscars?

    (Cut to CHEVY CHASE standing forlorn, holding a bouquet of flowers in the rain. GLENN CLOSE walks away from him, having just rejected his romantic advances.)

    NARRATOR
    …only one news team can set things right before the credits roll.

    (Cut to ROBIN LEACH at a payphone in a parking garage.)

    ROBIN LEACH
    John, this is bigger than you. It’s bigger than me. Stay out of it!

    (Cut to the flash of a GUNSHOT in a darkened corporate office. CHEVY CHASE approaches the dying body of a man he just shot. He picks up the man’s briefcase, and we see the PriceWaterhouse logo emblazoned on it.)

    CHEVY CHASE
    (voiceover)
    Glenn, listen to me. I’m hosting this year. You deserve that award for “Fatal Attraction.” And I can make it happen for you.

    (Cut to a closeup of a horrified GLENN CLOSE.)

    GLENN CLOSE
    (whisper)
    You’re insane.

    (Cut to JOHN TESH hunched over his glass of Tab in a jazz club in between sets. His trumpet rests on the bar. MARY HART is seated next to him.)

    JOHN TESH
    I’m sorry, Mary. You just can’t fight something like this. Hollywood one, John Tesh zero.

    MARY HART
    I can’t even look at you.

    (MARY HART gets up and leaves. JOHN TESH glares at his reflection in the mirror behind the bar.)

    (Cut to the soundstage. JOHN TESH and MARY HART are on camera.)

    MARY HART
    (tears in her eyes)
    Our top story tonight: my partner John Tesh is a filthy coward.

    PRODUCER
    What the hell is she doing?

    (The monitors all cut to test patterns as MARY HART stands and storms away. JOHN TESH buries his face in his hands.)

    (Pulse-pounding percussive music over a series of quick cuts:
    Overhead shot of a traffic jam of limos.
    Blood pooling in a handprint in front of Grauman’s Chinese Theatre.
    CHEVY CHASE sliding down a giant Oscar statuette.
    JOHN TESH kicking over a television camera.
    CELEBRITIES on the red carpet grinning in a hail of flashbulbs.
    JOHN TESH and MARY HART clinging to each other on a windy night.
    A team of DANCERS rehearsing their Oscar number.
    MARY HART brandishing a tarnished Oscar like a weapon.
    CHEVY CHASE grappling with GLENN CLOSE in a darkened mansion.
    CHER dropping her wrap to reveal a transparent silk net gown.)

    (Music reaches a crescendo and stops suddenly. Cut to backstage at the Shrine Auditorium. CHEVY CHASE, tuxedo rumpled and bowtie askew, holds one arm around MARY HART’s neck. With his other hand, he aims a pistol at JOHN TESH.)

    CHEVY CHASE
    (quiet and furious, through clenched teeth.)
    The envelope.
    (he cocks the gun.)
    Please.

    (Ba-da Ba-da-da Baaaaah! The familiar theme music bursts forth as the “Entertainment Tonight” logo drifts across the screen. Below it, we see a lineup of the cast.)

    NARRATOR
    Josh Brolin as John Tesh.
    Amy Adams as Mary Hart.
    Casey Affleck as Chevy Chase.
    Naomi Watts as Glenn Close.
    And featuring Philip Seymour Hoffman as Robin Leach.
    “Entertainment Tonight”: the Motion Picture.
    To truly see the stars … wait till night falls.

  • 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?

  • Reconciliation

    (LUCAS and JOSH, mid-thirties, enter the Brant Street Café. They sit side-by-side at the counter.)

    LUCAS
    Wait till you try the chicken noodle soup here. It’s the best I have ever tasted.

    JOSH
    I think I’m going to have a grilled cheese.

    LUCAS
    I’ll tell you what, man: you go your way, I’ll go mine.

    (pause)

    JOSH
    You seem agitated.

    LUCAS
    I’m not judging you. There comes a time in everyone’s life when they decide what kind of person they are. I don’t claim to understand your choice, nor will I judge you for it.

    (pause)

    JOSH
    Thank you.

    LUCAS
    I don’t know what series of events led to your choice of a grilled cheese. I haven’t walked that road. All I know is what’s right for me, and it is the chicken noodle soup.

    (pause)

    JOSH
    Should I get the chicken noodle soup?

    LUCAS
    Don’t patronize me.

    JOSH
    Listen, what is your problem?

    LUCAS
    I’m thirty-five years old. I was in the shower this morning, staring at the tiles, and it hit me: I am never going to publish that novel. I am never going to present my parents with a grandchild. I am never going to make partner. Every day that goes by is another staple stamped into my life, and it’s becoming clearer and clearer the shape of who I really am.

    JOSH (mildly alarmed)
    Whoa. Whoa. What the hell?

    LUCAS
    No, listen. I’ve reconciled myself to it. I’m not the guy who’s going to live passionately about any of those things I thought I’d live passionately about. But I’ll tell you what’s still in my power: the chicken noodle soup at the Brant Street Café. I’ve had it everywhere in the city, and I am prepared to state unequivocally that it is best here. I am an expert on nothing else. But I have this.

    JOSH
    Okay. Okay. Take it easy.

    (A WAITRESS enters.)

    WAITRESS
    What can I get for you guys?

    JOSH
    I’ll have a grilled cheese.

    WAITRESS
    All righty. And you?

    LUCAS (looking clearly and directly into her eyes)
    The chicken noodle soup.

    WAITRESS
    I’m sorry, guy – we’re just out. I can get you a cream of mushroom?

    (pause)

    LUCAS (bravely)
    Yes. Okay.

    WAITRESS
    It’ll be right out.

    (WAITRESS exits.)

    (pause)

    JOSH
    I thought you hated mushrooms.

    LUCAS
    Don’t try to pen me in, man!

    JOSH
    All right.

    LUCAS
    I am going to eat the hell out of that cream of mushroom soup. Try to stop me!

    JOSH
    I won’t.

    LUCAS
    I’ll tear your arm off.

    (pause)

    (The WAITRESS crosses again, and JOSH flags her down.)

    JOSH
    Miss? I think I’d also like a bowl of cream of mushroom, if that’s all right.

    WAITRESS
    Sure thing!

    (The WAITRESS exits. LUCAS and JOSH sit in silence.)

  • Doctor Dennis Peterman

    (The Annual Mad Scientist Convention. DOCTOR ATROCITY is standing at a podium. He is accompanied by a drooling alligator/human hybrid in chains, who glares at the assembled audience of mad scientists. DOCTOR ATROCITY reads off note cards.)

    DOCTOR ATROCITY
    Therefore, you collective of sniveling puppets! Heed well my coming vengeance! Courtesy of my army of leidyosuccubi, you will soon unleash anguished cries you had no idea you were capable of!
    (He flips to the next note card.)
    The fortunate among you shall die quickly. And make no mistake – none of you shall die quickly! Thank you.

    (The assembled SCIENTISTS applaud heartily as DOCTOR ATROCITY leads his creature offstage. DOCTOR GERYON, MPhD enters.)

    DOCTOR GERYON
    Thank you, Doctor Atrocity. And now the final speaker at the 178th Annual Mad Scientist Convention, Doctor Dennis Peterman.

    (DENNIS takes the stage to a smattering of unenthusiastic applause. He carries an easel with a tablecloth draped over it.)

    DENNIS
    Thank you. It’s good to see so many familiar faces. Um. Hold on.
    (He sets up the easel and adjusts the height of the microphone.)
    Sorry. Okay. Ahem. In this era of so-called “convenience” meals, when everyone is “on-the-go,” what we need is a utensil that combines the cradling powers of a spoon with the piercing powers of a fork. Gentlemen, I present to you the most recent diabolical abomination from the labs of Doctor Dennis Peterman, the Spork!

    (With a flourish, DENNIS pulls the tablecloth off the easel, revealing a highly technical blueprint of a spork. DENNIS gazes triumphantly at his audience. The audience is silent. Pause. Eventually, various SCIENTISTS begin speaking from the crowd.)

    DOCTOR MALEFICARUM
    Can it be used as a weapon?

    (DENNIS is taken aback by the question for a moment.)

    DENNIS
    If you mean a weapon against inconvenience and waste, then definitely! Ha, ha!
    (Silence.)
    I suppose, if it were made out of metal. By and large, I envision them being made out of plastic. But even so, I believe a more conventional fork would probably serve your purposes better.

    DOKTOR KOBOLD
    What if it were made out of Asarium?

    DENNIS
    I’m sorry, “Asarium”?

    DOKTOR KOBOLD
    The radioactive mineral. It melts people from the inside. I introduced it at last year’s convention, and you all laughed!

    DOCTOR RANTOUL
    Oh for Pete’s sake, Doktor Kobold, enough with the Asarium.

    DOKTOR KOBOLD
    You shall pay for your impertinence!

    DENNIS
    Gentlemen, please. It’s really only designed for eating. In field tests, it has proved very useful. And that’s that. Thank you.

    (A brief smattering of applause as DENNIS gathers his things and exits.)

    (CUT TO: an office. DOCTOR GERYON sits behind a desk, talking to DENNIS.)

    DOCTOR GERYON
    I suppose I’m wondering if you really feel you fit in here, Dennis.

    DENNIS
    Certainly! I mean, I’ll never be the most popular person in the Guild, but I feel I play my part.

    DOCTOR GERYON
    It’s just that you don’t seem to exhibit the myopia, the megalomania, the idée fixe that are part and parcel of the mad scientist credo. You’re not angry at the world.

    DENNIS
    Oh.
    (pause)
    I thought it was “mad” like “crazy.”

    DOCTOR GERYON
    Well, no, it is. But besides that, you need to have some kind of grudge against society. Do you have any past slight, real or imagined, that you might fetishize?

    DENNIS
    No. Well. I hate waiting in line for things. Like, real long lines at the post office.

    (DOCTOR GERYON grimaces and sighs.)

    DOCTOR GERYON
    I’ll give you an example: Doctor Rantoul. Let’s face it, he’s not half the scientist you are. But the guy is relentlessly fixated on the time twenty years ago when a handsome museum curator spilled coffee on a Beelzebufo ampinga fossil he was preparing for a diorama. He has spent the last two decades trying to create an army of carnivorous toads. He has not come close to succeeding, but his obsession carries a lot of weight here.

    DENNIS
    I don’t have anything like that, no.

    DOCTOR GERYON
    Do you have a slavish sidekick?

    DENNIS
    Well, there’s Jeanette.

    DOCTOR GERYON
    Okay, let’s talk about Jeanette.

    DENNIS
    She’s a grad student. She’s very competent.

    DOCTOR GERYON
    But is she a vile wretch, willing to unquestioningly carry out your most dangerous and thankless tasks?

    DENNIS
    Well no. In fact, I’m going to lose her in the fall; she just got hired at M.I.T.

    DOCTOR GERYON
    I see.
    (He absently takes a marble-sized pellet out of the pocket of his lab coat. He rolls it around in his hand during the following.)
    I’m going to suggest that you take a little break. Get some distance from the Guild and clear your mind. Ask yourself if you are willing to take on the extra fury to pursue a career in the mad sciences or if a more conventional route might be more rewarding to you. Okay?

    DENNIS
    Am I being kicked out?

    DOCTOR GERYON
    Dennis. When we kick people out of the Guild, they know it. I’m suggesting a hiatus.

    DENNIS (glumly)
    Okay.

    (DOCTOR GERYON stands and offers his hand. DENNIS shakes it.)

    DOCTOR GERYON
    Thank you for your work. And perhaps I’ll hear from you again in a year?

    DENNIS
    All right. So long, then.

    (DOCTOR GERYON casually flips the pellet to the floor, and it explodes in a burst of smoke. When it clears, he has vanished. DENNIS sits, dejected, for several moments. The door opens and DOCTOR GERYON pokes his head back into the room.)

    DOCTOR GERYON
    It’s nothing personal, Dennis. I want to stress that. Maybe one day you will snap.

    DENNIS
    Thank you.

    DOCTOR GERYON
    Farewell.

    (DOCTOR GERYON drops another smoke pellet and vanishes again.)

    DENNIS (softly, to himself)
    I’ll show them. I’ll show them all.
    (He dials his cell phone.)
    Hello, Jeanette? It’s Dennis. Oh, it went… Well, it went terribly, if you must know. That is why I have an assignment for you. I would like you to come to the Hyatt and let the air out of every car in the parking lot… No, I’m not kidding. They’ll pay. Every last one of them… I suppose you’re right. Okay. I’ll sleep on it… Thank you, Jeanette. You’re the best.

    (DENNIS hangs up and slouches in his chair.)

  • Best Friends

    (A hospital room. GLEN and ADAM, mid-thirties, are in neighboring beds. They are wearing hospital gowns. GLEN is awake, reading a magazine. ADAM is asleep. After a few moments, ADAM wakes up and groans.)

    GLEN
    Well good morning!

    ADAM (groggy)
    Glen. Hey.

    GLEN
    The operation was a success.

    ADAM
    Oh, that’s great. How are you feeling?

    GLEN
    Great! How are you doing?

    (pause)

    ADAM
    I’m really out of it.

    GLEN
    That sounds about right.
    (pause)
    Hey, Adam, I know I can never convey to you how much I appreciate this –

    ADAM
    Oh, no, seriously. There’s no need to mention it.

    GLEN
    Well, no, I think there is. You gave me a kidney. That’s huge.

    ADAM
    I was a match. What kind of friend would I be if I said no?

    GLEN
    No, Adam. It was above and beyond.

    (pause)

    ADAM
    Well, you’re welcome.

    (A moment passes. The two men have been rendered bashful by the level of warmth and intimacy. Finally, simultaneously, they reach between the beds and do a manly fist-bump.)

    GLEN
    Awesome.

    ADAM
    You’re looking really well.

    GLEN
    Yeah! I feel great.

    ADAM
    When will they know if your body accepts the kidney?

    GLEN
    I guess a kidney from a live donor starts working pretty much immediately, and it gets fully functional in three to five days. So, I guess three to five days after I have it implanted.

    (pause)

    ADAM
    Sorry?

    GLEN
    Once they put the kidney in me, three to five days later it should be fully functioning, if all goes well.

    ADAM
    They didn’t put it in you yet?

    GLEN
    No, I thought it would be best to wait until I need it.

    (pause)

    ADAM
    When will you need it?

    GLEN
    Who knows? But I feel great knowing it’s there. I feel prepared. Again, thank you.

    (GLEN picks up a jar from the floor and sets it on the bedside table. In it, a kidney is suspended in cloudy liquid.)

    ADAM
    I thought you needed it right away!

    GLEN
    No!
    (GLEN knocks on wood.)

    ADAM
    You son of a bitch! I thought it was a matter of life or death! You’re just keeping it aside in case you need it someday?

    GLEN
    What the hell, man? If you offer me half of your Twix bar, you’re not going to be pissed off if I don’t eat it right away.

    (pause)

    ADAM
    No.

    GLEN
    I mean, we’re friends! We’ve known each other for fourteen years! I’ve been lying here, bored out of my skull for hours, just so I could be here in person when you regained consciousness. And I fucking hate hospitals, dude.

    (pause)

    ADAM
    Thank you.

    GLEN
    Look, you’re welcome. You don’t have to thank me. It’s the least I could do.
    (pause)
    I’m gonna go get a Twix bar. You want anything?

    (pause)

    ADAM
    Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups.

    GLEN
    Sure thing. And Adam. Don’t even think about going for your wallet. It’s on me.

    (GLEN exits. ADAM lies in bed, silent. He glances over at the jar with the kidney in it. Idly, he reaches out and flicks it with his finger. He turns over and begins to drift back to sleep.)

  • Scenes I Predict Will Be in the Series Premiere of “Life on Mars”

    (GRUFF 70s COP and DISPLACED TIME TRAVELER COP are chasing down a suspect on foot.)

    GRUFF 70s COP (panting)
    We won’t catch him unless we split up. You go down the alley, past the pet rock store. I’ll head toward the Naugahyde factory. We’ll meet at the payphone on Plaid Street and Paisley Way.

    DISPLACED TIME TRAVELER COP
    The what-phone?

    GRUFF 70s COP
    Payphone! You put a dime in it, you make a call!

    DISPLACED TIME TRAVELER COP
    Like a land-line?

    GRUFF 70s COP
    What the hell are you talking about, “land-line”?

    DISPLACED TIME TRAVELER COP
    I mean – whoops!

    (DISPLACED TIME TRAVELER COP has suddenly fallen out of the shot. GRUFF 70s COP turns around.)

    GRUFF 70s COP
    What now?

    DISPLACED TIME TRAVELER COP
    My shoe flew off! These 70s loafers are useless to me! I need a pair of Reebok Pumps!

    GRUFF 70s COP
    What-bok whats?

    DISPLACED TIME TRAVELER COP
    You know, Reebok Pumps! The sneakers with the built-in air pump, for support, protection, and a custom fit!

    GRUFF 70s COP
    You’re dreamin’, rookie. There’s no such shoe!

    DISPLACED TIME TRAVELER COP
    What?? It’s the greatest sports performance shoe in the world! They’ve been around since nineteen-eighty-nine, and … Oh. Oh, no no no …

    (DISPLACED TIME TRAVELER COP buries his face in his hands and weeps.)

    • • •

    GRUFF 70s COP
    If you don’t crack this case, kid, you’ll never be anything more than Agnew to my Nixon.

    DISPLACED TIME TRAVELER COP
    Don’t you mean Cheney to your Bush?

    GRUFF 70s COP
    No one is getting chained to a bush!

    DISPLACED TIME TRAVELER COP
    Wait a minute!
    (He analyzes the evidence – a small, bloodstained square of shag carpeting – and is struck with an epiphany.)
    I see it all now, clear as Crystal Pepsi!

    GRUFF 70s COP
    Clear as what?

    DISPLACED TIME TRAVELER COP
    Oh my lord I AM LIVING A NIGHTMARE!

    (He tries to kick over a water cooler but misses, and his shoe flies off his foot, landing in GRUFF 70s COP’s coffee mug.)

    • • •

    (DISPLACED TIME TRAVELER COP is at a romantic dinner with SEXY 70s LADY COP.)

    DISPLACED TIME TRAVELER COP
    You know, Linda, I think I’m beginning to like it now. I mean, “like it here.” As long as you’re by my side, I can live through any era of our country’s history.

    SEXY 70s LADY COP
    That’s a very sweet and odd thing to say.

    (A WAITER enters and serves them a cheese fondue tray.)

    DISPLACED TIME TRAVELER COP
    In fact, I have something to ask you.

    (DISPLACED TIME TRAVELER COP plunges a fork into the melted cheese and pulls out a dripping object. With some difficulty, he uses a napkin to scrape the hot cheese away, eventually revealing a diamond ring. To cool it off, he pours a little Chablis on it.)

    SEXY 70s LADY COP (tears welling up)
    Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh!

    DISPLACED TIME TRAVELER COP (kneeling)
    When I’m with you, Linda, I feel I can burst into song at any minute.
    (He begins singing, softly and romantically.)
    “I can see a new horizon,
    Underneath the blazin’ sky.
    I’ll be where the eagle’s_ flyin’,
    Higher and higher…”

    SEXY 70s LADY COP (grimacing slightly)
    What are you … Oh, my …

    DISPLACED TIME TRAVELER COP (singing)
    “Gonna be your man in motion.
    All I need is a pair of wheels.
    Take me where my future’s lyin’,
    St. Elmo’s Fire…”

    (SEXY 70s LADY COP is writhing on the floor, her hands pressed frantically over her ears.)

    SEXY 70s LADY COP
    Stop! Stop making that noise, you monster!

    DISPLACED TIME TRAVELER COP (panicking)
    What was I thinking? Your ears are not ready for this music! Not without experiencing everything that happens between now and 1985!

    SEXY 70s LADY COP
    Oh, the dissonance! What pit of hell spewed forth that crushing cacophony!

    DISPLACED TIME TRAVELER COP
    “Love Will Keep Us Together!” “Jessie’s Girl!” “Do That To Me One More Time!” So many steps you haven’t had the chance to take!

    SEXY 70s LADY COP
    If you think I’ll marry you, you’re dumber than a worry stone!

    (DISPLACED TIME TRAVELER COP stands and runs out of the restaurant. One of his shoes falls off, but he doesn’t go back to pick it up, because all the other diners are calling for his head.)

    (Except for one. A MYSTERIOUS WOMAN watches him leave, then picks up his discarded shoe. We hear her thoughts in voiceover.)

    MYSTERIOUS WOMAN (voiceover)
    Hmmm. There’s something about that man I find fascinating. I shall search the whole city until I find the gentleman who fits this shoe.

    (The MYSTERIOUS WOMAN places the shoe into her handbag. When the camera pulls pack, we see that it is a promotional bag advertising “Lost” coming out on DVD! Season EIGHT!)

    THE END…???

  • The Lemon-Scented Passing of Jack Kaufmann

    (A funeral. The casket is upstage center, and black-clad MOURNERS are milling around. TIMMY, a boy of five, is downstage, shyly standing next to his mother, MARJORIE. EDWARD, holding a notepad, is kneeling and talking to TIMMY.)

    EDDIE (to TIMMY)
    A noun? It’s like a person, place or thing.

    MARJORIE (to TIMMY)
    What’s something you saw today, sweetheart? Just name anything.

    (TIMMY whispers something to MARJORIE, who laughs.)

    EDWARD
    What did he say?

    MARJORIE (to TIMMY)
    Tell him what you said, sweetie.

    (TIMMY whispers to EDWARD. EDWARD laughs and writes something in the notebook.)

    EDWARD
    That’s perfect. That’s perfect. Thank you, Timmy.

    (The FUNERAL DIRECTOR approaches EDWARD.)

    FUNERAL DIRECTOR
    Any time you’re ready.

    (EDWARD nods and makes his way to a podium by the casket. He clears his throat, and the MOURNERS take their seats and quiet down.)

    EDWARD
    The Eulogy.

    Friends and family, well wishers and pomegranates, we are gathered today to mourn the lemon-scented passing of Jack Kaufmann.

    Jack Kaufmann was a soggy soul, a man who was quick with a cheesy handshake and a kind Q-Tip. And he was always willing to lend a helping jack-o-lantern to someone in need.

    Things weren’t always easy for Jack Kaufman. As one of sixty-nine children, he constantly had to pistol-whip for attention. But most would agree that this only made him hotter. In fact, he drew upon his experience just last year, when he finally fulfilled his dream of eating Mount Everest.

    He is survived by his lovely wife Angelina Jolie, his son Rick Astley and daughter Miley Cyrus, and of course McNuggets, his faithful thirteen-lined ground squirrel. And most of us would argue that, at a mere one hundred billion years old, he was far too hoarse to die.

    But today is not only a day for sadness, for we still have many ticklish memories of this drunken man. And Jack Kaufman himself would have wanted each and every one of us to seize the toilet.

    (EDWARD steps down from the podium as the MOURNERS wipe away tears. Organ music.)

  • Whose Side Are You On?

    (A recording studio. SCOTT stands alone, fretting. After a beat, THERESA enters.)

    SCOTT
    He still out there?

    THERESA
    Yeah.

    (pause)

    SCOTT
    If he can’t go through with it, are you willing to do the voiceover?

    THERESA
    No! I have a horrible voice!

    SCOTT
    Don’t say that.

    THERESA
    It’s true! It’s worse than yours.

    (pause)

    SCOTT
    Yeah, I guess it is.

    THERESA
    I could never sell something as radical as this. Hell, I could tell people the earth was round, and they’d second guess themselves and consult a globe.

    (pause)

    SCOTT
    The jury’s still out on the earth being round, as far as I’m concerned.

    THERESA
    Not today. Please.

    (ROB enters.)

    SCOTT
    What’s up?

    ROB
    I’m in.

    THERESA
    You sure? Because we can’t screw around on this stuff anymore, we only have the studio till 2:30.

    ROB
    Right. Let’s just plow through it. I just want it to be known that I don’t believe any of this crap.

    SCOTT
    You don’t have to.

    (THERESA and SCOTT retreat to the recording equipment and ROB positions himself in front of the microphone. All three put on headphones.)

    THERESA
    Take it from “slurry walls.”

    ROB (reading)
    “The slurry walls, three-foot-thick walls of concrete buried deep underneath the World Trade Center, were designed to hold back the ocean and the Hudson River. But these walls were displaced, in some areas by up to eighteen inches. If the walls were strong enough to support the weight of the towers and the ocean for over twenty-five years, why would they be knocked out of alignment?” Gee, I don’t know. Maybe because two one-hundred-story buildings had just fallen down on top of them?

    SCOTT
    Cut!

    ROB
    I’m sorry. I can’t do this. I can’t get behind this because I don’t believe it.

    THERESA
    Hey, Rob, I see on your résumé that you played Nathan Detroit in “Guys and Dolls.” So, did you “believe” that you had to find a place for the big craps game?

    ROB
    The fact that I was in “Guys and Dolls” is not going to make people not want to work with me in the future!

    THERESA
    No, your unprofessionalism will do that nicely!

    SCOTT
    Please. Everyone just calm down. Rob, you’re very good. You have the steely timbre, the gravitas we need.

    ROB (grudgingly)
    Thank you.

    SCOTT
    There’s a reason we hired you for this. 9/11 was an inside job. The idea that a handful of guys with box cutters could do this is ridiculous, and everyone knows it.

    ROB
    Okay. I need to tell you something. Sometimes a conspiracy theorist will make a grand conspiracy statement, and he will follow it with the phrase, “and everyone knows it.”

    SCOTT
    Okay.

    ROB
    Those four words tag you as a crackpot. They carry the implication that when I claim to disagree with you, that means I must be “in on it.” Or that they’ve “gotten to me” and threatened my family or something.

    SCOTT
    All right.

    ROB
    And since I know that neither of those is the case, your entire theory crumbles. If there is no room in your worldview for me to disagree with you without being a coward, or a shadowy architect of clandestine machinations, then you are a crackpot, and you are to be ignored.

    SCOTT
    Noted. Are we doing this?

    (SPYDER, owner of the recording studio, enters.)

    SPYDER
    Guys, I need you to wrap this up. I got a “My Little Pony” Christmas special coming in here at 2:30.

    THERESA
    Spyder, can they reschedule? We’re trying to open the eyes of the nation here.

    SPYDER
    No, man, I want them in and out of here ASAP. They’re unlicensed.

    SCOTT
    What do you mean?

    SPYDER
    It’s not an official “My Little Pony” video, it’s a knockoff they’re going to sell on the street.

    (pause)

    THERESA
    Let’s just drop it.

    SCOTT
    Are you serious?

    THERESA
    Yeah. I guess the truth loses again. Give Rob his money and let’s go home.

    SCOTT
    Yeah, okay.

    THERESA
    I guess I’ll read the closing paragraph later. We can cobble together the rest

    (SCOTT stares down ROB for a moment, then shakes his hand.)

    SCOTT
    You fucked us, Rob. But you took a stand. On some level, I have to respect that.

    (ROB watches everyone pack up. He is about to take his water bottle and leave, but he stops himself. He swipes the script back from SCOTT.)

    ROB
    Roll the tape.

    SCOTT
    What are you doing, Rob?

    ROB
    Just roll it.
    (They do. ROB is magnificent, heartfelt, as he recites from the script.)
    “To review. George W. Bush was eager to create enough chaos to allow his half-brother Osama bin Laden to divert Afghanistan’s heroin trade through Putin’s Russia. So he asked the 107-year-old Dick Cheney to combine the Catholic Church’s weather machine with the water engine technology owned by Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac. Using it all in conjunction with a holographic sky-projector with possible origins in the blueprints from the ancient alien astronauts, they staged the most massive act of treason our country has seen.”
    (pause)
    “The President has said, you’re either with us or you’re with the terrorists. Open your eyes, America. They are one and the same.”
    (pause)
    “Whose side are you on?”

    (pause)

    THERESA (softly)
    You nailed it.

    ROB
    Well.

    THERESA
    No, you fucking nailed it.

    SCOTT
    Rob. Thank you.

    (SCOTT nods and makes his way out of the studio. SPYDER approaches THERESA.)

    SPYDER
    Hey, is that stuff true? About the water machine and the ancient astronauts?

    THERESA
    Every last word.

    SPYDER
    Could I get a copy of this video?

    (ROB, hearing this, nods at THERESA and SCOTT. They nod back. ROB exits.)

  • Hot Rocks, Cold Bodies

    (A morgue. Four bodies are covered with sheets. TONY PRATT, coroner, lifts one of the sheets and speaks into a handheld tape recorder.)

    TONY
    …and the renal and liver failure, along with the low sodium concentration in the plasma, makes for a textbook case of Legionnaires’ disease. In younger victims, this would have been very treatable, but these subjects had elderly, oft-abused bodies, and this outbreak was simply the straw that broke the camel’s back.
    (TONY walks to another of the sheets and lifts it.)
    Keith Richards lasted the longest, but the severe bouts of vomiting finally drained his body of all hydration, leaving him a dried husk of a man.
    (TONY drops the sheet and begins walking across the room.)
    And if I may add a personal note, I am saddened by the fact that the band I grew up worshipping, the band I thought would never die, has been felled by something as random as a bacterial infection spread by the air conditioning system of their five-star hotel. Their end does not hold with the hard-living reputa- WHOOP
    (TONY has slipped on something. He bends down and examines it.)
    What the hell?
    (He leans closer.)
    That’s disgusting.

    (BRENT HERNANDEZ, an assistant coroner, enters. He has tears in his eyes.)

    BRENT
    Tony, have you seen- WHOOP
    (BRENT has slipped too. He looks around him on the floor.)
    Oh no. It happened again.

    TONY
    What happened again?

    BRENT
    It’s the new intern, sir. She keeps wandering in here, and, well…

    TONY
    Well what?

    BRENT
    Have you seen her? She’s fucking hot.

    TONY
    Brent, if the two of you have been fornicating in the morgue, I’ll see to it that you never work in the industry again.

    BRENT
    No! Not at all! In fact, she’s a bit of a tease… It’s, uh, it’s why I’m crying.

    TONY (indicating the floor)
    Then where did this come from?

    BRENT
    It’s the bodies, sir. I think… I think it’s from the bodies. This happens every time the new intern comes in here.

    TONY
    Are you serious?

    BRENT
    She’s really fucking hot.

    TONY
    Be that as it may, the floor is covered in corpse ejaculate, and I am not going to clean it up. Send the intern in here with a mop.

    BRENT
    All due respect, sir, that would cause a bit of a vicious cycle.

    TONY
    Tell her to wear some dowdy clothing!

    BRENT
    I can’t. She’d take us to court in a sexual discrimination case.

    And Now, The Punch Line.

    (TONY looks to the camera and rolls his eyes.)

    TONY
    This is the worst musical predicament we’ve had here since Roberta Flack’s lover went on that soft-song killing spree!!!!!!!!!

    The End.

  • All I Want is a Relaxing Dinner with Limp Bizkit

    (A restaurant. A MAÎTRE D’ answers the phone. It’s FRED DURST.)

    MAÎTRE D’
    Good afternoon, Kyle’s on Seventh.

    FRED
    Yes, I’d like to make a reservation for tonight.

    MAÎTRE D’
    Certainly, sir. How many will be dining?

    FRED
    Four.

    MAÎTRE D’
    And your name please?

    FRED
    Durst.

    MAÎTRE D’
    “Durst”?

    FRED
    Yes.

    MAÎTRE D’
    I’m sorry, is that “Durst” or “Burst”?

    FRED
    Durst.

    (The MAÎTRE D’ is about to write it down, but second-guesses himself.)

    MAÎTRE D’
    Sorry, is that “Durst” with a “D” or “Burst” with a “B”?

    FRED
    Durst with a D.

    (The MAÎTRE D’ pauses.)

    MAÎTRE D’
    I’m sorry sir, is that “D” as in “duck,” or “B” as in “buck”?

    FRED
    “D” as in “duck.”

    (The MAÎTRE D’ winces.)

    MAÎTRE D’
    I’m sorry. Is that “duck” as in “I went hunting and shot a duck,” or “buck” as in “I went hunting and shot a buck”?

    FRED
    “I went hunting and shot a duck.”

    (The MAÎTRE D’ is about to write the name down, but stops himself.)

    MAÎTRE D’
    Um. Was that “I went hunting and shot a duck as it paddled in the pond,” or “I went hunting and shot a buck as it gamboled through the woods”?

    DURST (irritable)
    I went hunting and shot a duck as it paddled in the pond.

    MAÎTRE D’
    Thank you, Mr. Durst. Sorry about that.

    FRED
    It’s fine.

    MAÎTRE D’
    May I have your first name?

    FRED
    It’s Fred.

    (The MAÎTRE D’ is about to write it down, but stops himself.)

    MAÎTRE D’
    I’m sorry, was that “Fred” or “Red”?