Category Archives: Sketches

EXT. CLUB – NIGHT

An insanely attractive GIRL (20s) stands on a street corner, trying to hail a cab.  Up walks GUY (20s), the polar opposite of attractiveness — but you wouldn’t know it from his confidence.

Guy: “Yo.  Ey girl.  Ey.  I wanna take you home, you know what I mean?”
Girl: “Taxi.”
Guy: “Nah, lady.  You gots to see my crib.  My bed, my stuffed animals.”
Girl: “What?”
Guy: “Yeah, I got animals galore.  Elephants and lions and doggies.”
Girl: “Doggies?”
Guy: “Doggies, girl.  Straight up.  So what’s it gonna be?  You gonna hop on the back of my scooter?”
Girl: “Scooter?”
Guy: {smiling} “Why you repeating everything I say?  ‘Cause you in love with me already?”
Girl: “That…doesn’t make any sense.”
Guy: “Neither does life, but we still go on, yadidImean?” {hangs head} “God bless.”
Girl: “Look, I’m just trying to get home.  Taxi!”
Guy: {rapping} “Why you hailin’ cabs when you could be coming home with me? / Why you gonna front when I been nothing but nice to you?” {OFF her creeped out look} “Oh, I know what you’re gonna say.  You’re gonna be like, ‘That mess didn’t rhyme.  Are you doing free verse rappin’?  That’s awesome.’  Yeah girl, it is.  ‘Cause ‘Awesome’ my middle name.  Big Awesome Philjuice.”
Girl: “Your last name’s ‘Philjuice?’”
Guy: “Why?  That turn you on?”
Girl: “Taxi.”
Guy: “You serious, pimpin’?  You gonna turn down a man with crabs?”
Girl: “Excuse me?”
Guy: “Yeah, I got crabs.  My last girlfriend gave ‘em to me.”
Girl: “That’s horrifying.”
Guy: “They ain’t gonna get ‘chu.  They cute.  Spend most of they time sleeping in they hermit hut.”
Girl: “Oh, hermit crabs.”
Guy: “What you think I mean?”
Girl: “Listen, I have to wake up early tomorrow and –”
Guy: “I make you breakfast.  Peanut butter pie?”
Girl: “Ew.”
Guy: “Ew?!  No, girl, you ain’t had my peanut butter pie…have you?”
Girl: “I don’t know you.”
Guy: “Cool.”
Girl: “Do you have Asperger’s?”
Guy: “Yo, I ain’t no ass burger.”
Girl: “You’re not picking up on the — I don’t like you, Philjuice.  I’m not attracted to you.  I want you to go home and never talk to me again, you retarded freak.”

Guy goes silent.  He hangs his head.

Guy: “Ey.  My bad.”

Girl looks at him, remorseful.  Then –

Guy: “Let me slow it down.”
Girl: “Jesus Christ.”
Guy: “You like them Blue Planet videos?”
Girl: “No.”
Guy: “I got all them shits.  Specially the ones about the planet.  All that photosyntheshit.”
Girl: “TAXI!!!”

FADE OUT.

In the days when writing comedy about facebook was funny and original (see: “never”), a couple of friends and I wrote this short.   Co-story credit goes to John Bedard, Kevin Custer, Noel Diaz de Rivera, and Jeremy Hill.

* * *

THE TWITBOOK WEBPAGE

INT. APARTMENT – BEDROOM

THE NEW GUY (20s) waves –

The New Guy: “Hello world.  New member here.  I’ve heard this site is an important tool for the spread of information.  My colleagues tell me –”

INT. APARTMENT – OFFICE

JONSEY_CAT_26 (20s, memorable sweatshirt) holds up her cat –

Jonsey_Cat_26: “It’s my kiiiiiitty!”

INT. HOME

ROB (mid-30s, shady looking) runs into frame, panting.

Rob: “I have a really cool stereo for sale.”

He holds up a stereo with car wires coming out of it.

Rob: “Uh…fifty bucks.”

INT. APARTMENT – KITCHEN

FRIENDLY FELLA (early 20s) –

Friendly Fella: “Happy weekend, friends!  I’ll be at the Farmer’s Market at eleven o’clock .

INT. HOME – ROB

reads this.

Rob: “I’ll be at Todd’s house at 11:02.”

…and he pulls down a ski mask over his face.

INT. APARTMENT – OFFICE – JONSEY_CAT_26

Jonsey_Cat_26: “At Friendly Fella: pick me up some organic cat food.”

KITCHEN

Friendly Fella: “Sis, are you really twitting me from the other room?”

OFFICE

Jonsey_Cat_26: “And some grapefruit.  Mmmmmmmmmmmm.”

INT. OFFICE

SUNNYYBABYY (mid-20s) sits in an office chair –

SunnyBabyy: “Just had a hot night with my boyfriend.  Winky face…”

EXT. POOL

MIKE HUNT (mid-20s) lays by the water, his FRIEND (also mid-20s) in the background –

Mike Hunt: “Last night I learned the term (hashtag) ‘creampie.’”

The friend nods, “Yeah.”

INT. HOME – BASEMENT

“THE FIST” (creepy looking, older) gives a thumbs-up.

“The Fist”: Likes this.

EXT. FARMER’S MARKET – FRIENDLY FELLA

Friendly Fella: “At the Farmer’s Market, if anyone wants to join me.  It’s a beautiful day.”

On the side of the screen, “‘THE FIST’ LIKES THIS.”

Friendly Fella: “Hey friend.  Does that mean you’re coming?” {long pause, then frowns} “Do you just like that it’s a beautiful day?”

HOLD ON Friendly Fella while he waits for a response…

INT. APARTMENT – OFFICE – JONSEY_CAT_26

Jonsey_Cat_26: “Is gonna go get some water.”

HALLWAY – ROB

Rob: “I’m inside the house.  I think I’ll steal the TV first.  Although the rugs also look expensive.”

During this twit, Jonsey_Cat_26 passes by, staring only at her laptop…and then walks back into her room with the laptop and a bottle of water.

OFFICE – JONSEY_CAT_26

Jonsey_Cat_26: “I think someone’s in my house.”

HALLWAY – ROB

Rob: “I think someone’s in the house.”

INT. OFFICE – SUNNYYBABYY

SunnyBabyy: “I heart my boyfriend.  I wonder what he’ll buy me for our anniversary…smiley face with a tongue.”

INT. SAUNA

Mike relaxes with a towel around his waist, his Friend still in the frame.

Mike Hunt: “What kind of gift says, ‘I love you, but I’m not in love with you?’”

Mike’s friend reacts.

INT. OFFICE – SUNNYBABYY

SunnyBabyy: “At Mike Hunt: what does that mean?”

INT. SAUNA – MIKE HUNT

Mike Hunt: “At Sunnyybabyy: not you, babe.”

INT. OFFICE – SUNNYYBABYY

SunnyBabyy: “At Mike Hunt: what do you mean, not me?”

INT. APARTMENT – OFFICE – JONSEY_CAT_26

sits in the chair as Rob ties rope around her body.  (Jonsey_Cat_26 is now in a tank top.  Rob holds her sweater in his arms.)

Jonsey_Cat_26: “O M G.  There is definitely someone in my house.”

The camera MOVES UP as –

Rob lifts the laptop.

Rob: “Having a productive day.”

He grabs Jonsey_Cat_26’s sweatshirt, adding it to the huge pile of items he’s holding.

INT. HOME – BASEMENT – “THE FIST”

“The Fist” {noncommittal} “Likes this.”

INT. OFFICE – SUNNYYBABYY

SunnyBabyy: “At Mike Hunt: are you only in this relationship for the sex question mark exclamation point question mark?  Exclamation point?”

INT. COFFEE SHOP – MIKE HUNT

holds some sort of juice drink.  Again, there’s the Friend.

Mike Hunt: “At Sunnyybabyy: Please.  Let’s not have this argument online.” {then} “In the meantime, check out this funny cat video I found: h, t, t, p, colon, backslash, backslash –”

EXT. FARMER’S MARKET – FRIENDLY FELLA

Friendly Fella: “At SunnyyBabyy and Mike Hunt: why don’t you join me for lunch?”

INT. OFFICE – SUNNYYBABYY

SunnyBabyy: “JESUS CHRIST.  THIS IS A PRIVATE CONVERSATION, TODD…all in caps.”

On the side of the screen, “12 PEOPLE LIKE THIS.”

EXT. STREET – ROB

packs items into the back of his car and takes off his mask.

Rob: “Got some more great items.  Garage sale at 2:30.  Smiley face with a hyphen for a nose.”

EXT. FARMER’S MARKET – FRIENDLY FELLA

sits at a table by himself –

Friendly Fella: “I’m at the lunch area now.  I’ll wait to eat if anyone wants to come.  Twit me or text me.  Or call me.  I can wait.”

EXT. HOME – MIKE HUNT

holds up Jonsey_Cat_26’s sweatshirt on a wire coat hanger.  (Rob’s in the background with other garage sale items.  So is Mike’s Friend who holds up a teddy bear.)

Mike Hunt: “Shopping for some expensive clothes to placate my girl. J/k.”

INT. OFFICE – SUNNYYBABYY

SunnyBabyy: “Screw you, Mike.”

EXT. HOME – MIKE HUNT

Mike Hunt: “Looking forward to it.”

The friend gives a thumbs-up.

INT. OFFICE – SUNNYYBABYY

SunnyBabyy: “I haven’t had a period in four months!”

EXT. HOME – MIKE HUNT’S

mouth hangs open.  He removes the sweatshirt, holding only the coat hanger.

Mike Hunt: “Purchasing items for my girl.”

Mike’s Friend turns –

Mike Hunt’s Friend: {shaking his head, “Not cool.”} “Dude.”

ROB –

Rob: {taking Mike’s money} “Dude.”

INT. HOME – BASEMENT – “THE FIST”

“The Fist”: “I was raised to be very much pro-life; so, I will not be liking this.”

INT. HOME – BEDROOM – MIKE HUNT

holds up two coat hangers with toys dangling from string.  (His friend is in the background, making arts and crafts — i.e., booties.)

Mike Hunt: “Check out the mobile I made for my baby.”

EXT. FARMER’S MARKET – FRONT DOOR

Friendly Fella: “Eff everybody!  I have six hundred and five Twitbook friends and clearly zero real ones.  I think I’ll go kill myself.” {pause} “Unless anyone –”

INT. HOME – BEDROOM – MIKE HUNT

Mike’s friend is still in the background.

Mike Hunt: “I shall call him Mike Hunt, Jr.”

ON SUNNYYBABYY

SunnyBabyy: “Jr.?  Who said it was yours?”

ON MIKE

His friend has disappeared –

Mike Hunt: “What?”

ON SUNNYBABYY

– and appears next to SunnyBabyy.

Mike Hunt’s Friend: “Sorry, bro.”

ROB

Rob: “Wow.”

FRIENDLY FELLA

Friendly Fella: “Gasp.”

JONSEY_CAT_26

Jonsey_Cat_26 (sideways, muffled by the cloth in her mouth) “Mmm-hm-hmmm-hmm-hmm…”

“THE FIST”

“The Fist” {emotionless, arms crossed, rolling on the ground} “Rofl.”

RANDOM GUY

A RANDOM GUY (we’ve never seen before) wears full Lakers gear.

Random Guy: “LAKEEEEEEEEEERS!”

THE NEW GUY

stares at the screen, befuddled.  He opens his mouth, but just sort of exhales.  He reaches forward and CLOSES THE COMPUTER ON US.

CUT TO BLACK.

INT. CLASSROOM – DAY

People of various ages sit in desks, chatting.

MR. TELLER (30s, briefcase, professional) walks in the door and moves to the chalkboard to write his name.

Mr. Teller: “All right, everyone, settle down.  Welcome to landlord training class.  I’m Mr. Teller.  Is anyone here a crazy bitch, creep, or asshole?”

Everyone in the place raises his or her hand.

Mr. Teller: “Good.” {writing on the board} “Our first lesson today is to find our landlord character.  As you all know from the assigned reading, we as landlords must take our worst qualities and exaggerate them to the point that our tenants consider killing us.”

Mumbled agreement from all.

Mr. Teller: {to two students} “Would you two like to start us off?”

A MAN and a WOMAN (30s) step down to the floor.

Mr. Teller: “What’s your name?”
Woman: “Linda.”
Mr. Teller: “Too normal.  What’s your landlord name?”
Linda: “Farsha.”
Mr. Teller: “Nice.  Ethnic and yet not specific enough to be clearly Persian or Hispanic.” {to the man} “And you, Sir?”
Man: “Gupteh.”
Mr. Teller: “That’s your landlord name?”
Gupteh: “That’s my real name.”
Mr. Teller: {smiling} “Someone was born to do this!” {then} “Now in this exercise, Gupteh will play the tenant who needs his toilet fixed and Linda will be the landlord.  Feel free to take notes.”

Gupteh picks up an imaginary phone and makes the “brrrrring” sound.

Linda: “Hello?”
Mr. Teller: “Okay, stop.”
Linda: “What?”
Mr. Teller: “You answered the call.”
Linda: “Oh, sorry.”
Mr. Teller: “It’s okay.  I don’t mean to make an example of you, but as a landlord it is your job to avoid the tenants as much as humanly possible — especially when they’re in need.  However, for the sake of the exercise, let’s have Gupteh come to the door.”

Gupteh pretends to knock on a door.  Linda does nothing.

Mr. Teller: “Oh, sorry.  You can answer the door for this, Linda.  Good instincts, though.”

Gupteh knocks again.  Linda puts down her head, like an actor preparing, and comes up a different person — limping, smoking an imaginary cigarette, and raspy-voiced.

Linda: “What?!”
Gupteh: {as a meek tenant} “Hey Farsha, it’s John from apartment 106.”
Linda: “Who?”
Mr. Teller: “Nice.”
Gupteh: “My toilet started running this morning and I was wondering if you could send someone by to fix it?”
Linda: “Oh, what?  It’s my fault you got massive b.m.’s?”
Mr. Teller: “Excellent.  Always blame the tenants.”
Gupteh: “I can call the plumber if you want.  Would you be able to give me his number?”
Linda: “I gave it to you already.”
Mr. Teller: “Did you?”

Linda shakes her head no.

Mr. Teller: “Good, Linda.”
Gupteh: “Would you mind giving it to me again?”
Linda: “Check your paperwork, James.”
Gupteh: “Linda, if you don’t give me the number, I’ll report you.”

Linda stalls.  Then looks at Mr. Teller.  She’s stuck.

Mr. Teller: “He’s not leaving, Linda.  What are you going to do?”
Linda: “Uh…I don’t — I don’t know.”
Mr. Teller: “That’s all right.  Stay in character.  Here.”

Mr. Teller hands Linda a prop.

Mr. Teller: “Try opening and closing this pocket knife during the conversation.”

She turns back to Gupteh and they resume –

Gupteh: “Well can I have the number, Farsha?”
Linda {using the knife} “I don’t know.  Can you?”
Gupteh: “Farsha, please, I will report you.”
Linda: “Yeah?”
Gupteh: “Y-yeah.”
Mr. Teller: “How do you feel, Gupteh?”
Gupteh: “Nervous.”
Mr. Teller: “Be more specific.  What do you want to do?”
Gupteh: “I want to…”
Mr. Teller: “What?”
Gupteh: “I just want to leave.”
Mr. Teller: “Good.  Take a seat.”

The class applauds.

Mr. Teller: “The potentially violent landlord.  Not for everyone, but Linda did a very nice job.  Any questions?”

A random STUDENT raises his hand.

Student: “Is it ever okay to assault a tenant other than verbally?”
Mr. Teller: {smiles} “I am gonna love this class.”

FADE OUT.

EXT. HOME – NIGHT

A standard suburban home.

Brian: (V.O.) “Oh, this one’s easy.”

INT. HOME – KITCHEN

Four people sit around a table — KRISTIN, BRIAN, LIZ, and ANDREW — all of them young (late 20s) and attractive.

In front of them, the board game BRAINIUM (like “Cranium.”)

Kristin: “Brian.”
Brian: “I’m just saying, if I can guess Jean-Paul Sartre through a song –”

Liz flips over the HOURGLASS timer.

Liz: “…and go!”

Andrew hums the first few notes of “U Can’t Touch This.” Kristin looks confused.

Brian: “Ten seconds.”

Andrew sings a different segment.  Kristin shrugs.

Brian: “5, 4, 3, …”

Andrew starts dancing like MC Hammer.

Kristin: “MC Hammer.  U CAN’T TOUCH THIS!”

Andrew claps and points to her. They hug in celebration.

Brian: “Hey.  Cheating!”
Andrew: “What?”
Brian: “Yeah, no dancing.  Zero points.”
Liz: “I’ll give it to them.”
Brian: “Why?  Because he’s your brother and she’s your best friend?  That was a blatant violation of Brainium rules.”
Liz: “Oh c’mon, Brian.  It’s just a game.”
Kristin: “Yeah, no need to get irritable.”
Brian: “I’m not getting irritable.  I’m getting…fair.”
Kristin: “Well, if you’re gonna get this worked up, we don’t have to finish.”
Brian: “I just don’t understand why I couldn’t be on my wife’s team.”
Andrew: “Because you and Kristin are the two best players.”
Brian: “Well, that’s — all right.  Fine.  I’ll give you the point.  Our turn.” {rolling the dice} “Five.”

Liz picks up the card.

Liz: “The category is ‘slancrebum.’”
Andrew: {laughing} “Get it?  That’s the scrambled version of ‘unscramble.’”
Brian: “Are you seriously this simple or are you doing a character?”
Kristin: “Brian!”
Brian: “You’re not curious, too?”
Liz: “Unscramble the word to move ahead.”

Andrew takes the card and writes the clue on a pad of paper.

Andrew: “All right.  The word is ‘tizihatnoolpias.’”
Brian: {looking at the card} “Surprisingly hard.”
Kristin: {re: Brian} “That’s what he said.  When he tried to have sex with me.”
Brian: “Kristin!”
Kristin: “I’m not sorry.”
Andrew: {tipping the hourglass} “…and go.”

Liz and Brian improv guesses, finding little word segments inside of their word.

Brian: “Zoo?  Zoo hat?  Uh…pizi… zoo hat?”
Andrew: “It’s not zoo hat.”
Kristin: “Ten seconds.”

They keep guessing.

Brian: “Oh, it’s on the tip of my tongue.  Hol… holzis… zoo hat?”
Liz: “Oh my God.”
Brian: “Less complaining, more guessing!”
Andrew: “5, 4, 3, …”

…and guessing.

Kristin: “…2, 1, and ze –”
Brian: “– HOSPITALIZATION!”
Kristin: “Seriously.”

Brian flips over the card.

Brian: “‘Hospitalization!’  Way to go, me!”

Brian jumps into a celebratory dance routine and gives himself a high-five.

Andrew: “Actually, I think you answered after time.”
Brian: “What?  No!  It was right on time.”
Kristin: “I also think it was after time.”
Liz: “Yeah.”
Brian: “Liz!”

Andrew grabs for the rule book.

Andrew: “The rules of Brainium state –”

Brian smashes a wine glass on the table and holds the sharp end to Andrew’s face.

Brian: “GIVE ME THE POINT!”
Andrew / Kristin / Liz: “Jesus! / Brian! / AAGH!”

He immediately drops the bottle.

Brian: “I’m sorry.  I don’t know what got into me.  I…I’m sorry.”
Kristin: {emphasizing how out-of-proportion this is} “All right.  Brian’s team gets one more point in Brainium.”
Brian: {soaking up the liquid with a paper towel} “I’m sorry.”
Liz: “Let’s just stop the game.”
Brian: “No no no no!  One more.  Game point.  I’ll be cool.  I’m sorry.”

They stare at each other.  Exhale.  Liz rolls the dice.

Liz: {reading from a card} “‘Share-ades.’”
Andrew: {laughing} “It sounds like –”
Brian: “Charades.  Yeah.  7 and up, dude.  We all got it.”
Liz: “Just like charades, but the clay acts for you.  Mold the clay to get your teammate to guess the answer.  The opposing team may also guess.”
Andrew: {laughing} “‘Share-ades.’  We’re sharing.”

Brian clenches his fists.  Kristin shoots Brian a look.

Liz: “Kristin?”

Kristin looks at the back of the card and smiles.

Kristin: “I’m ready.”
Brian: “You barely even looked at it.”
Kristin: {re: the hourglass} “Flip it over.”

Brian flips the hourglass…and within seconds, Kristin has molded a near-perfect replica of Brian.

Brian: “That’s me.”
Andrew: “Um…white guy?  Marketing?  Anger problem?”

Kristin locks eyes with Brian.  He becomes more horrified with every guess.

Andrew: “Arrogance?  Ugly?  4 inches?  Hepatitis B?  Slight limp?  Uh…”
Liz: “Three seconds.”

Then Kristin lifts up her fist and SMASHES it.

Andrew: “I’M HAVING AN AFFAIR WITH YOUR WIFE!!!”

Everyone freezes.  Brian is horrified.  Kristin flips over the card.

Kristin: “The word was ‘string cheese.’ {to Brian} “You win.”

CUT TO BLACK.

INT. KITCHEN – NIGHT

MARGARET (30s, attractive in a 1950’s housewife sort of way) sets the dinner table.  OFF SCREEN, a door opens and closes.

Charles: (O.S.) “Honey, I’m home.
Margaret: “I’m in the kitchen, dear.”
Charles (O.S.) “Mmm.  Smells delicious.”

Charles (30s, nice suit) enters, kisses his wife, and reveals a bouquet of flowers.  Margaret swoons.

Margaret: “Oh!  They’re beautiful.” {wryly} “What did you do?”

They laugh.  Charles sits.

Charles: “How was your day?”
Margaret: “Lovely, thank you.  Yours?”
Charles: “Productive.  I had lunch with Mr. Daniels.”
Margaret: “Oh, how is he?”
Charles: “Quite good.  He assures me our finances are in excellent shape.”
Margaret: “Wonderful news.”

Margaret lights a candle and sits.  They clink wine glasses.

Charles: “Now, honey, I realize this is perhaps a little off-color, but — well, I’ll just jump right into it: I’ve been molesting little Emily.”
Margaret: “The neighbor’s daughter?!”
Charles: “To be sure — but before you say anything more, I have a proposal.  I’d like to take Derek — you remember Derek, of course.  The boy down the block? — well, we’ll lock him in a compound behind the house and we can molest them together.”

Margaret’s face is frozen in horror.

Charles: “Forget the compound.  Regardless of the location, let me quell another concern I feel might be floating through your mind: complicity.  Now if the authorities were ever to come around asking questions, there’s an easy manner in which you could absolve yourself of any culpability: play dumb.” {then} “Margaret, what’s wrong?  You look troubled.”
Margaret: “Molesting children in a compound?  Charles…”
Charles: “As I said, I’m not married to the idea.  Perhaps a basement, or better yet, a basement to the basement.”
Margaret: “I certainly find the idea…interesting.”
Charles: “Good, because I’ve built it already.”
Margaret: “When?”
Charles: “That’s not important.  The point is it’s ready to go.  With just a flip of a switch — oh, which reminds me: the power bill.  If we’re going to begin molesting together, we’re going to have to start cutting back.  Aside from the obvious — electricity, of course — we will have to take into consideration that there will be another mouth to feed.  In fact, I have been raping Emily already; so, if it indeed comes to this, there may be two new mouths to feed.”
Margaret: “Charles –”
Charles: “Now don’t worry.  I have a plan for that, too.  When I spoke with Mr. Daniels, he assured me that we have more than ample funds to cover what such a situation would require.”
Margaret: “But Charles –”
Charles: “I know what you’re going to say: the child might have health problems.”
Margaret: “It might not be able to walk!”
Charles: “Indeed.  It could be a mutant.”
Margaret: “Oh, that’s awful.”
Charles: “Now hold on.  It might be a good mutant.  You are familiar with the X-Men?”
Margaret: “What if it rises up and revolts against you when it gets older?”
Charles: “Honey, you just said it might not be able to walk.”

He moves to the other side of the table and takes her hand.

Margaret: “Why are you doing this?  Why do you want me to be involved?”
Charles: “Because I love you…and I want us to do more things together.”

Margaret looks deep into Charles’ eyes.  Finally –

Margaret: “All right.”

They hug.

Charles: “Now that that’s settled, there’s one more issue I’d like to discuss: I’d prefer to spend this Christmas with my parents.”
Margaret: “Oh, Jesus Goddamn Christ, Charles!  No!  That’s — how dare you bring that up again!  Unbelievable!!!”

She throws her napkin onto her plate and exits the room.

Charles: “Shucks.”

FADE TO BLACK.

INT. FORTUNE TELLER’S ROOM – DAY

ABE, SHENOAH, and LANCE (all mid- to late-20s) sit around a crystal ball.  Everything in this room screams “spiritual.”

Abe: “I can’t believe I paid 40 bucks for this crap.  My fortune better have something to do with getting money back.”
Shenoah: “Abe, is it possible for you to be any more negative today?”
Abe: “Absolutely.  The food here sucks, I’m hot, my back hurts, a child threw 8 ounces of 7-up on my crotch, and the carnie hit me with a bowling pin.”
Shenoah: “He said it was an accident.”

Abe’s arm shoots up awkwardly –

Abe: {screaming} “IT WAS NOT AN ACCIDENT!”

– then falls back to his side.  Shenoah turns to Lance.

Shenoah: “Hey, you all right, man?”
Lance: “What?  Yeah, I’m cool; it’s just…Erin liked fortune tellers.”
Shenoah: “Lance, you gotta get over this girl.  I’m sorry, but you’ve done nothing but mope about her all day.” {to both of them} “So we’re gonna get a fortune, it’ll be funny, and it’ll take our minds off of everything.  All right?”

Just then, MADAME GELID enters — androgynous, overweight, and apathetic.  S/he sits, clearing phlegm from his/her throat.

Madame Gelid: “Let me guess.  Nick –”
Abe: “No.”
Madame Gelid: “– is NOT your name.  See how you jumped on me?  It’s not gonna work if you pull that crap again.”

Shenoah shoots Abe a look.

Abe: “What?!”

Madame Gelid closes his/her eyes and places his/her hand on the crystal ball.  The song s/he sings weaves in and out of what sounds like a legitimate chant and Rihanna’s “Umbrella.”

Madame Gelid: {to Shenoah} “You will ruin your friendships.” {to Abe} “You were Hitler in a past life.” {to Lance} “…and you’re gay.”

The guys’ mouths drop.

Lance: “I’m sorry?”
Madame Gelid: “Me too.”

Madame Gelid stands up and exits.  A beat of stunned silence.  Then –

Abe: “Forty dollars?!”
Lance: “I’m not gay!”
Shenoah: “Mine was…vague.”

They stare at each other.  An awkward pause.

Abe: “It’s fine if you’re gay, you know.”
Lance: “Okay, but I’m not.”
Shenoah: “Listen, it doesn’t –”
Lance: “Why?  Do you think I’m gay?”
Abe: “Well, your name is Lance.”
Lance: “What the hell does that mean?”
Shenoah: {to Lance} “Don’t listen to him.”
Lance: “I just got out of a very serious relationship, asshole!”
Abe: “And why did it end again?”
Lance: “Because — oh, you mean because I’m gay?!  Screw you, Adolph.”
Abe: {laughing} “I can’t be Hitler.  I’m Jewish.”
Lance: “Maybe that’s your punishment.”
Shenoah: {laughing} “Oooooohhhh!”
Abe: {to Shenoah} “Oh, shut up, dude.  You keep laughing that hard, you might just lose your friends.”
Shenoah: {calming down} “All right. I’m sorry, okay?  Let’s just go.”
Lance: “Screw that.  I am sitting here until that man comes back.”
Abe: “Why?  Were you attracted to him?”
Lance: “Last warning, man.”
Shenoah: “Lance, this was a mistake, okay?  I’m sorry.” {leading Lance out of the room} “Sometimes you try something and you find out it doesn’t work.”
Abe: “Like sex with women.”

Lance turns around and throws Abe against the wall.  Shenoah tries to separate them.

Shenoah: “Hey hey hey!!  Stop it!”

They separate, both still steaming.

Shenoah: “God, my mom’s right.  You guys are immature.”
Abe: “Excuse me?”
Lance: “That wasn’t very nice.”
Abe: “Yeah, sounds like something someone says to ruin his friendships.”
Shenoah: “C’mon.  Let’s go.”

But Lance and Abe don’t move.

Abe: “Hey Shenoah, why do you live with your mom again?”
Shenoah: “What do you mean?”
Lance: “Oh, I think it’s because he lost all of his other friends.”
Abe: “Mmm…that would make sense.”

Shenoah turns back to Abe.

Shenoah: “Hey Abe, why do you always do that thing with your arm?”
Abe: “What?”
Shenoah: {demonstrating} “That thing…with your arm.”
Abe: “I’ve told you, it’s a nervous twitch, man.”
Shenoah: “I’m just saying, it looks like a Nazi salute to me.”
Lance: “…and you do hate Jews.”
Abe: “Lots of Jews hate Jews.”
Shenoah: “And you can’t grow a full mustache.”
Lance: “And you have O.C.D.”
Shenoah: “And you yell a lot.”
Lance: “And there was that Halloween where you dressed up as –”
Abe {screaming}” LEAVE ME ALONE!”

His arm shoots up again in what, yes, looks like a Nazi salute.  The other two stare at him.  Abe drops his arm, shaking…

Abe: “Show us a picture of your girlfriend.”
Lance: “Why should I?”
Abe: “Because I never met him.”
Shenoah: “Yeah, I didn’t either, actually.”
Lance: “I don’t have his — her picture.”
Abe: “Bull.”
Lance: “We broke up.”
Abe: “You’re morose, Lance.  I’m sure you keep a picture in your wallet to make yourself feel badly.”
Lance: “Okay, this guy’s not coming back.”

Lance moves toward the door, but Shenoah stops him.

Shenoah: “Wait.  Give him your wallet.”
Lance: “I’m not giving anyone my wallet.  Let’s go.”
Abe: “How do you spell ‘Erin?’  Is it with two ‘A’’s?”

As Lance turns around, Shenoah grabs the wallet from Lance’s back pocket.

Lance: “Hey!”

Lance tries to grab it back, but Shenoah finds a photo…and his eyes go wide.  Abe stares as well.  They look at Lance.

Lance: “Okay.  I’m gay.”
Abe: “I knew it.
Shenoah: “Why didn’t you tell us?”
Lance: {to Shenoah} “You voted ‘yes’ on prop 8.”
Shenoah: “I told you, I got confused.”
Abe: “You could have told me.”
Shenoah: “Why would I tell you, Mein Führer?”

Lance storms out.  Abe stares at Shenoah.

Shenoah: “Wait.  Does that mean you were really…?”
Abe: “No.  It doesn’t mean…no.” {pause, then} “Your mom really thinks I’m immature?”
Shenoah: “No.”
Abe: “Good.”
Shenoah: “But I do.” {OFF Abe’s look} “I’m just saying, there are some things you might want to work on, dude.”

Abe rolls his eyes and walks out as well.

Shenoah: “Hey, I criticize because I love!” {once Abe’s gone} “Asshole.”

He takes a breath, then looks around, realizing –

Shenoah: “What, so now I’ve ruined my friendships?”

Another woman enters.  She is dressed like the original Madame Gelid, but appears more put together, like less of a cartoon character.

Shenoah: “Who are you?”
The Real Madame Gelid: “Madame Gelid.”
Shenoah: “But that other woman was –”
The Real Madame Gelid: “My brother.  Yeah.  I hope he didn’t bother you.  He’s in town for a couple of days while he’s on his stand-up tour.  He does impressions, mostly.  You should see the one he does of me.  It’s pretty good.” {OFF of Shenoah’s look} “What?”

FADE TO BLACK.

INT. APARTMENT – DAY

CRAIG (mid-20s, nebbishy) scrubs the carpet while on the phone.

Craig: “Mom, the last guy threw up blood.” {listens, then} “I highly doubt it was ketchup.” {listens, then} “Well then he must have eaten nothing but ketchup for weeks.” {listens, then} “No, that is not an L.A. diet.” {listens, then} “What?! No. I’m not even that fat!”

The doorbell RINGS.

Craig: “Here’s another one.  I’ll call you later, okay?  Hello?  Agh.”

Craig answers the door.  There stands a really cute girl in her mid-20s.  Craig is taken aback — this might actually be a winner.

Craig: “Laura?”
Laura: “Craig?”
Craig: “Hey.  Yeah, nice to meet you.”
Laura: “Nice to meet you, too.  I’m already relieved you’re not an 80-year-old gun collector who likes to sleep in the nude.  And share a bed.”
Craig: “You met that guy?”
Laura: “No.  I’m exaggerating.  He was in his 70s.”
Craig: {laughs} “Yeah, it’s hard.  I’ve met quite a few crazies myself.”
Laura: “I bet.”

Laura comes inside and sits on the couch. She plays with a WRISTWATCH on the end table.

Craig: “Funny story about that watch…”
Laura: {pockets it} “What watch?”
Craig: “The one — I think you just accidentally put it in your pants.”
Laura: “No, I didn’t.”
Craig: “Yeah, no, you did.  I saw you look at it and then you put it…Laura?”

Laura has gotten up, looking around.

Laura: “How long have you lived here?”
Craig: “Um…couple months — can I just get the watch back before I forget?”
Laura: “And the rent’s twelve-hundred?”
Craig: “I can see the watch in your pants.” {reaching for it} “Can I just –”
Laura: “Whoa.  What’re you, a pervert?”
Craig: “No, I’m just trying to get the –”

Laura looks at some KNIVES…and sticks a few in her pocket.

Craig: “– okay.”
Laura: “In terms of a move-in date, I’m looking for something maybe middle of the month.  I know the ad said –”
Craig: “Laura, you just stole my knives”
Laura: “No I didn’t.”
Craig: “They’re sticking out of your pockets.”
Laura: “Yeah, I had those when I came here.”
Craig: “Are you kidding?  I saw you take the watch and now you took my knives.”
Laura: “I don’t have the watch.”
Craig: “Yes.  You.  Do.”
Laura: “Okay.  Then check my pockets.”
Craig: “I can’t.  You have knives sticking out of them!”
Laura: “So is the middle of the month okay or…?”
Craig: “Why is this happening to me?”

Laura shoves some sort of RIBBON into her back pocket.

Craig: “Laura!  What the hell?  Now don’t tell me you didn’t steal that.  It’s an elementary school ribbon for participation in hula hooping.”
Laura: “Why would I steal that?”
Craig: “I don’t know!”
Laura: “Again, Craig: I had it before I came here.”

Craig grabs it out of her back pocket, showing her –

Craig: “Then why is my name on it?”
Laura: “I had to write it down somewhere before I came as a reminder, and I didn’t have any scratch paper.”
Craig: “Get out of my apartment.”
Laura: “But you never told me if –”
Craig: “Get out!”

Laura goes to exit, grabbing the entire END TABLE.

Craig: “Hey!  What are you –”

They get into a struggle.

Laura: “Stop trying to steal my end table!”
Craig: “What is wrong with you people?”

Laura removes a knife from her pants and pulls it on Craig.

Laura: “GIMME MY TABLE OR I’LL CUT YOU!”

Craig drops it.  Laura picks it up meaningfully, then runs out.  Craig sits there for a minute, processing.

Craig: “Still better than the last guy.”

FADE OUT.

EXT. FOX LOT – DAY

PAT runs up to ANDY and DESHAWN (all 20s), hanging outside of their office building on a lunch break.

Pat: “OhmyGodohmyGodohmyGod, you guys!  I just met Tom Cruise.”
Andy: “Yeah?”
Deshawn: “Was he nice?”
Pat: “So nice.”
Andy: “What’d he say?”
Pat: {pause, then} “Well, I didn’t talk to him, per se, but he seemed really kind.”
Deshawn: “Well go say, ‘Hi.’”
Pat: “What?!  No.  I can’t.”
Andy: “Pat, he’s just a person.”
Pat: “Tom Cruise is not just a person.”
Deshawn: “C’mon…”
Pat: “I’m serious.  Something happens when you meet people like that.”
Andy: {staring beyond Pat} “Is that him?  The short guy?  I’ll talk to him.”

As Andy walks away, Pat yells –

Pat: “I warned you, Andy.  I warned you!”

Andy approaches TOM CRUISE.  Cruise turns around.

Cruise: “Hey.”

Andy instantly freezes.

Cruise: “You okay?”

Andy starts shaking, crying.

Cruise: {comforting Andy} “Hey hey hey…it’s okay.”

Andy continues to sink to the ground, rolling up into a ball.

Cruise: “Are you…all right?  Kid?”

Andy crawls away from the scene, back to the guys.

Pat: “I told you.”
Deshawn: “Andy, what the hell happened?”
Andy: “I flew into the danger zone.” {then} “He was really nice, though.”
Pat: “So nice.”
Deshawn: “OK, you two are acting ridiculous.  Watch as a stable, functioning member of society has a conversation with another…” {reconsiders} “…at least semi-stable, occasionally functioning one.”

DeShawn struts over, confident.

Deshawn: “Excuse me.  Mr. Cruise?”

Cruise turns around, smiling and extending his hand.

Cruise: “Hey.  Tom.”

DeShawn looks at Cruise’s hand, losing equanimity.

Deshawn: “You think your shit don’t stink?”
Cruise: “I’m sorry?”
Deshawn: “Just because you’re some big action hero movie star?  Huh?  I work in an office, Cruise, from 9:00 a.m. to 8:00 p.m. — and I hate my life.  You’re no better than the rest of us, you know that?  YOU KNOW THAT?!”
Cruise: “I never said anything like that.”
Deshawn: “I could kill you.”
Cruise: “Whoa.” {calling to off-screen} “Uh, Ridley?”
Deshawn: “Crush your small little head.”

RIDLEY SCOTT walks over.

Ridley Scott: “Is this man bothering you?”
Deshawn: “You’re not better than us, you know!  I work for my paycheck, too!!”
Ridley Scott: “Get the hell out of here before I call the cops, you punk.”

DeShawn lunges at Cruise as a warning, and walks back.

Deshawn: “Goddamnit!”
Pat: “See?”
Andy: “Hard, right?”
Deshawn: “He was really nice, though.”
Andy: “So nice.”

They all sigh.  Then KEN (20s) walks up.

Ken: “Hey guys, what’s going on?”

They’re all too flustered to speak.

Ken: “Guys?” {noticing} “Hey, is that Tom Cruise?”

He walks over.

Deshawn: “No!”
Pat: “Ken!”
Andy: “Danger zone!”

Ken approaches.

Ken: “Hey, are you Tom Cruise?”
Cruise: {a little more hesitant} “Y-y-yeah.”
Ken: “Pleasure to meet you, man.  Ken.  I don’t really have anything original or exciting to say, but I loved your work in Minority Report.  Great movie.”
Cruise: “Thank you, Ken.”

Then it hits him.  Ken throws himself on the ground.

Ken: “I’M HAVING A HEART ATTACK!  QUICK!  I NEED MOUTH TO MOUTH.”

Several GRIPS approach.  One leans down.

Ken: “FROM YOU — TOM CRUISE.”
Ridley Scott: “Stand back, everyone.  I got this.”
Ken: “NO.  NOT FROM YOU, RIDLEY SC — AH!”

PAT, DESHAWN, AND ANDY watch the scene.

Deshawn: “Wow.”
Andy: “Yeah.”
Pat: “Tom Cruise is so nice.”

FADE OUT.

INT. APARTMENT – DAY

CRAIG (mid-20s, nebbishy) mops his hardwood floor while on the phone.

Craig: “Yeah, I’ve been doing interviews, but I can’t find a single sane person.” {listens, then} “Yes, but it’s also possible that they’re the problem, right?” {listens, then} “That is a terrible thing to say to your son.” {listens, then} “That’s even worse.”

The doorbell RINGS.

Craig: “Oh.  I’ll call you later.  Someone’s at the door.” {listens, then} “Because I want to call you later.” {listens, then} “To tell you about the interview, I guess.” {listens, then}  Can I please call you later –?” {looks at the phone} “Damnit, Mom.”

Craig answers the door.  There stands a grinning, middle-aged German man in an apron that reads, “Kiss Die Cook.”

Craig: “Gunter?”
Gunter: {correcting him} “Gunter.”
Craig: “What did I say?”
Gunter: {sounds exactly the same} “Gunter.”
Craig: “And what is it?”
Gunter: {still identical} “Gunter.”
Craig: “Well, c’mon in.”

Gunter enters, carrying a tray of pastries.

Craig: “Oh.  What — what is that?”
Gunter: “Vould you like…some cupcakes?”

Gunter smiles.  He may be the nicest man in the world, but his strong German accent makes him sound scary.

Craig: “No, thanks.  Have a seat.”

They sit.  Gunter scoots in, uncomfortably close to Craig.

Craig: “Um…so, this is it.  Just a one-room deal, unfortunately, but I can’t afford the whole thing; so, gotta split the costs.  The deposit is five-hundred and the utilities –”
Gunter: “You sure you vould not like cupcake?”
Craig: “I’m fine, thank you.”
Gunter: {throaty} “I fill it with wacholderbeeren.”
Craig: “I just ate.”
Gunter: “And kräuterbuttert.”

Craig shakes his head no.

Craig: “So if you want to look around…”
Gunter: “Nein.”

Gunter puts his hand on Craig’s leg and smiles. Craig removes Gunter’s hand.

Craig: “Well, how about you tell me about yourself?  What do you do?  How’s your credit?  What are your feelings on Hanukkah?”
Gunter: “Do you have oven?”
Craig: “Why?”
Gunter: “I use ze oven.”
Craig: {nervous} “For what?”
Gunter: “Mein cupcakes!”
Craig: “Oh.  Right.  Yeah, I have an oven.”
Gunter: {clapping effeminately, smiling} “Ooh!  You make Gunter very happy.”
Craig: “Right; so, again, this is it.  Feel free to look around or ask me any questions or –”

Gunter grabs a large cupcake from the tray and hands it to Craig.

Gunter: “I made you…a birzhday cake.”
Craig: “It’s not my birthday.”
Gunter: “It is still fun to have chocolate, yes?”

Gunter moves the large pastry towards Craig’s mouth.

Gunter: “Here comes ze tasty tank.”

He makes sound effects of a tank as it moves closer.  Then –

Craig: “Ok.  You know what?  I’m sorry.  This isn’t going to work out.”
Gunter: “But you haven’t tried mein pastry.”
Craig: “I’m just — I’m looking for someone who’s a little younger and, you know, a little less, uh……I don’t know.  You’re scaring the shit out of me.”
Gunter: “No.  Please try mein cupcake.”
Craig: “Gunter — you gotta go, man.”
Gunter: “But I have no home.  I need shelter.  I cook for you.  I be your companion.  No gay stuff.”
Craig: “Hey.  Don’t push me.  I will call the cops.”

Gunter sighs, then gets up and heads toward the door.

Gunter: “I am good person, but you think I am strange because of mein accent and mein customs.  I only want to make friends.  Be happy.  Share my millions with a good companion.”
Craig: “Your what?  Millions?”
Gunter: “But you reject me, Craig.  You reject me like all the others.”

He takes Craig’s hand and shakes his head as if to say, “For shame.”  Then he lets go and exits.

After a moment, Craig moves to the pastries.  He tentatively puts one in his mouth.  Tastes it.

Craig: “Oh my God.  This is — this is amazing.  Jesus Chr –” {running out the door} “Gunter!  Gunter, come back!  I’m sorry!  God damnit, I’m sorry!!!”

FADE OUT.

OVER BLACK –

John: (V.O.) {singing} “I used to work in Chicago at an old department store.  I used to work in Chicago; I don’t work there anymore.”

INT. TYPICAL COLLEGE APARTMENT – DAY

Three guys (all early 20’s) sit in a circle on the floor of their sparse living room — ADAM is stoned, DAN is angry, and JOHN is patient.

John: “A woman came in for a…”
Adam: “Ruler.”
John: “A ruler from the store.  A rule she wanted…my twelve inches she got!”
Everyone: “Ohhhhh!”

MILES (20’s, socially awkward-to-the-max) walks in.

Miles: “Evening gentleman.  Can I play?”

The guys stare at each other.  A collective sigh.

Dan: “No.”
Adam: “Bro, let him play.”
Dan: “Why?  You remember what happened last time?”
John: “There are no girls here right now.”
Adam: “Or chinchillas.”
Dan: “Man.  That was a weird evening.”
Miles: “So what do I do?”
John: “Listen to Dan.  You’ll pick it up.”
Dan: “A woman came in for a…”
Adam: “Movie.”
Dan: “A movie from the store.  A movie she wanted…some action she got.”
Everyone: “Ohhhhh!”
John: “All right, Miles.  Your turn.”
Dan: “Give him an easy one.”
Miles: “A woman came in for a…”
Adam: “Rooster.”
Miles: “A rooster from the store.  A rooster she wanted…but we were all out of roosters.”
John: “No, Miles.”
Miles: “No?  I completed the transaction?”

Adam laughs.

John: “No, you’re supposed to make it sexual.”
Miles: “What?!  That’s silly.”
John: “Yeah, like, ‘A rooster she wanted…my cock she got!’”
Everyone: “Ohhhhh!”
Miles: “Oh, okay.”
Dan: “Do we have to say, ‘Ohhhhh!’ after every response?
John: “Try it again.”
Miles: “A woman came in for a…”
Adam: “Couch!”
Miles: “A couch from the store.  A couch she wanted…so I had sex with her.”
John: “No dude.”
Miles: “On the couch.  We had sex on the couch!!!”
Dan: “Jesus.”
Miles: “I gave her a couch in the ass!!!”
Adam: “Miles –”
Miles: “Just rammed that shit up there!!!”
Dan: {disgusted} “Agh.”
John: “Miles, listen.  It’s gotta be a play on words.”
Miles: “Oh.”
John: “Yeah?  Do you get it now?”
Miles: “Yes.  I have to make a reference to my penis.”

They think.

Adam: “Basically.”
John: “Okay.  One more time.”
Dan: “If he doesn’t get this one right –”
Miles: “A woman came in for a…”
Dan: {looks around the room and sees a –} “Lamp.”
Miles: “A lamp from the store.  A lamp she wanted…”

Miles pauses, thinking.  Sweating.  Everyone’s looking at him.  His heart BEATS.  Anticipation.  Finally –

He stands up, ripping off his clothing.

Dan: “Dude!  What’re you doing?”
Miles: “My 15-inch lamp she got!!!”
Adam: “Holy crap!”

Miles grabs the stand-up lamp and thrusts it at everyone as if he’s jousting.

Dan: “What the hell, man?”
John: “Miles: relax.  It’s just a game.”

Adam laughs — until he’s hit in the face with the lamp.  Everyone runs out.

Dan (O.S.): “Call the cops.  He’s out of control!”

Miles is alone in the room, breathing in and out.  Naked.

Miles: “Did I win?”

CUT TO BLACK.