FSW: Fantasy Dream Edition

It's time for another round of Friday Sketch War.

Richard was first out of the gate today, with a cautionary tale about television doctors.

Nothing from Dave yet, but if it's anything like last week, he'll toss something out that will 

blow us all away.

Update: Dave is up and, er, swimming. And we have a new battler in our midst. Red has joined the fray. Please make her feel welcome.

Here's my attempt at the funny. I think I need to cut it down some, but I like the premise a lot.

And, as always, if you'd like to play along, simply post your sketch and send us a link.

Enjoy!

Dream Date Night Dream

(We are in the small, studio apartment of PAUL. It is decorated as any geek, fanboy might. Lots of horror movie posters, action figures on shelves, an authentic lightsaber in a glass case, Star Wars bed sheets, etc. Paul sits in bed, wearing a headset, playing an online game on his computer. Through the wall we hear the unmistakable sound of enthusiastic lovemaking.)

PAUL: (On headset) Jesus, my neighbor’s at it again. I swear that guy gets more tail than Aragon. (Beat) Oh, way more than Solo. (Beat) Well that’s your opinion.

(The lovemaking gets louder and louder, then suddenly, there is a short scream of shock followed by a loud THUD!)

PAUL: (On headset) Hang on, Slayer 9, I think I’ve got a situation here.

(Paul leans back against the wall, trying to hear what’s going on. We hear a woman’s voice saying “Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god.” Over and over again.)

PAUL: (On headset) Dude, I’m gonna have to log off. (Beat) I know, I know, but you’ve got enough Hit Power to take the ogres should they attack. (Beat) Would you calm down, that wizard is long gone. I’m sure I’ll return before he does.

(There is a knock on his door.)

PAUL: (On headset) Holy shit, I think the chick he was banging is knocking at my door. (Beat) No, I’m not going to take a picture.

(More knocking.)

JAMIE: (Off) Hello? Is anyone home? Hello?

PAUL: Just a second! (On headset.) All right, all right. But only because you saved my ass on the Isle of Gygax. After this we’re even.

(More knocking.)

PAUL: Coming!

(He quickly removes his headset and positions the laptop so it’s pointing toward the door. He takes a tiny webcam and attaches it to the top of the computer. He crosses to the door and opens is. JAMIE, drop-dead gorgeous, enters, wearing a man’s t-shirt and nothing else.)

JAMIE: Oh, thank god you’re home. I think my boyfriend needs a doctor.

(Paul is frozen momentarily in the tractor-beam of her beauty.)

JAMIE: Hello? You speak English?

PAUL: Uh. Yeah. And Elven. A little Klingon, too. Enough to get by anyhow.

JAMIE: Can you help me?

PAUL: Sure. Uh. (Beat) What do you want me to do?

JAMIE: Check on my boyfriend.

PAUL: Right. Okay. Yeah.

(Paul starts to leave, followed by Jamie. There is a BEEP from his computer and he turns to look at it.)

PAUL: Uh. You know. You should. Wait here. Yeah. In case. You know.

JAMIE: Okay. Thanks. I’m a little freaked out right now.

(She goes to sit down on a beanbag chair near the wall. Another BEEP from the computer. Paul grabs her and stops her.)

PAUL: Actually. Just stay right here.

(He positions her so she’s in front of the camera. Another BEEP. Paul looks at the computer. He moves her slightly to the left and turns her sideways.)

PAUL: Right here. I’ll be right back.

(Paul takes another look at her and then quickly runs out of the apartment. Jamie stays where she was placed. A rapid series of BEEPS emanates from the computer. She looks for the sound and sees the computer. Through the wall we hear Paul.)

PAUL: (Off) Dude! Dude! Wake up. Dude!

(Paul runs back in. Jamie turns to him.)

JAMIE: Why does your computer keep repeating “thank you”?

PAUL: It’s a, uh, gratitude program I just installed.

JAMIE: Oh. How is he?

PAUL: Um, okay, I think. I think maybe he’s just unconscious.

JAMIE: Do you think he’ll be all right?

PAUL: I’m not a doctor but…

(BEEP from the computer. Paul steps closer to read the screen.)

PAUL: But, I think you should stay here until he comes to. He probably just needs a little air. Uh.

(BEEP from the computer.)

PAUL: Would you like something to drink?

JAMIE: I could really use a shot of whiskey right now.

PAUL: Oh. Well. I only have water and Diet Cherry Fanta.

JAMIE: Water’s fine.

(Paul heads over to the kitchen.)

PAUL: I’m Paul, by the way.

JAMIE: Jamie. Thanks for being here, Paul. I’m such a nutcase when it comes to emergencies.

(Paul comes back with a glass of water.)

PAUL: Oh, sure, I’m always home.

(BEEP from the computer.)

PAUL: Because I’m Rick.

JAMIE: What?

(BEEP.)

PAUL: Rich. Because I’m so rich. I never need to leave.

(Jamie begins to take in her surroundings.)

JAMIE: Wow, you really like movies, huh?

PAUL: Oh yeah.

JAMIE: Is that a real light saber?

PAUL: Darth Vadar’s. From A New Hope.

JAMIE: No shit.

PAUL: You like Star Wars?

JAMIE: Love it. I was Princess Leia for Halloween this year. You know the outfit she wore as Jabba’s slave girl?

(Paul has a physical reaction to this image. Another series of BEEPS from the computer. Jamie looks at it and seems to be a little shocked.)

JAMIE: I don’t think your gratitude program is working very well. Now it’s just repeating “Take off your shirt” over and over again

(PAUL leaps over and slams the laptop closed. A series of BEEPS. He yanks out the headset and the camera. He stuffs the laptop under the blankets.)

JAMIE: You know, I should probably check on Jarrod.

PAUL: Who? Oh yeah! No! Let me go. I don’t want you to get freaked out again or anything.

JAMIE: Okay. Thanks.

(Paul runs out again.)

PAUL: (Off) Oh hey, dude. You’re up. Uh, no I haven’t seen her. What’s that over there?

(There is a dull thud, followed by the sound of something heavy falling. Paul comes running back in.)

PAUL: He had a relapse.

JAMIE: Oh no.

PAUL: But I think he’s going to be fine. You can hang out here until he’s better.

JAMIE: Oh. Sure. Okay.

PAUL: So…You wanna see the Steampunk action figures I’ve modded?

JAMIE: You do Steampunk? Cool!

PAUL: (In complete awe) Mela en' coiamin

JAMIE: What?

PAUL: Nothing. Just an Elven blessing.

JAMIE: That’s neat.

PAUL: I could teach you, if you like.

JAMIE: That would be nice. (Beat) What’s on your shirt? Are you bleeding?

PAUL: What? Oh! No. (He wipes it away.) It must have been some sauce from my Spaghetti O’s.

(They share a laugh. Jamie sits down on the bed. We hear faint moaning through the walls. Paul turns on his stereo.)

PAUL: I hope you like Evanescence.

(Paul sits on the bed next to Jamie.)

JAMIE: They’re my favorite band.

(An annoying BEEPING noise begins.)

JAMIE: What’s that?

PAUL: I don’t know.

JAMIE: Listen, why don’t you check it out, while I slip into something a little more comfortable.

PAUL: What’s more comfortable than just a t-shirt?

JAMIE: You’ll see.

(She exits into the bathroom. Excited, Paul takes off his shirt and pants. The BEEPING is getting louder, so he begins searching for it. He looks all over and eventually winds up looking under the blankets of his bed. He is completely covered. The lights change very subtly. He comes out from under the blankets, stretching and yawning.)

PAUL: Wait. What? No no no no no no.

(He runs to the bathroom and knocks on the door.)

PAUL: Jamie? Hello?

(He opens the door.)

PAUL: NOOOO! Dammit!

(Something is still BEEPING. He makes it back to his bed where he digs out his computer. He opens it up and the beeping stops. He puts on his headset. The sound of enthusiastic lovemaking begins next door. Paul sighs.)

PAUL: (On headset) He, Slayer 9, what’s up? (Beat) Nothing, just listening to my neighbor get his baloney pony ridden. Again. Dude gets more tail than Apollo’s killed Cylons. (Beat) You’d be certifiable if you didn’t do Starbuck.

(The door opens and Jamie comes in, dressed, with donuts and orange juice.)

JAMIE: Good morning, sleepy head.

PAUL: (On headset) Dude, I gotta get back to you. I think I’m still dreaming.

(He pulls off the headset.)

PAUL: You’re…you’re real.

JAMIE: What? Last night wasn’t enough to convince you? Oh, I hope you don’t mind, but I borrowed some of your clothes.

(Paul is just standing, staring, flabbergasted.)

JAMIE: Listen, I thought maybe we could take a shower together and then watch LORT. All three movies, director’s cut of course, straight through.

(Paul falls to his knees and begins to weep.)

JAMIE: Paul, are you all right?

PAUL: I’m happier than a Ranchor in shit.

JAMIE: Cormamin lindua ele lle.

PAUL: It does, indeed.

(Paul stands up and goes to hug Jamie. He steps on one of his action figures that is on the floor.)

PAUL: Ow!

(He begins hopping around, loses his balance and falls behind the bed. There is a sickly sounding, WET CRACK.)

JAMIE: What are the odds?

(She looks around. Shrugs. Takes the donuts and leaves.)

BLACKOUT