We've moved once again. Our new, and permanent home, is sketchwar.org It's not pretty right now - just an out of the box Wordpress site - but it'll get better over the next month or so. Thanks to everyone who's been coming here. We hope you come on over to the new home!
David mentioned that this was a unique challenge, and I definitely agree. Not only were we trying to write for established actors with fairly distinctive styles, but hopefully to create something that could be expanded into a television show.
Gulp!
In some ways, this felt more about writing the world's shortest pilot than a sketch.
I'm sure I'll be kicking more ideas around over the week, because I'd love to come up with stuff that feels a little more modern (along the lines of "The Office", "Extras" or "30 Rock"), but here's my first wild stab:
_______________________________________________________________
INT. BRITISH PUB - NIGHT
ELTON, a stout British man in his mid-fifties sits alone at a quiet table amidst a smattering of other quiet patrons. He wears a tweed jacket with elbow patches an a tartan bowtie. He occasionally sips a beer while reading a classic-looking book through wire-rimmed round glasses. The barkeep dries glasses behind the bar.
Offstage the door to the pub opens. ELTON looks up as GENE speaks to an unseen crowd in an American accent.
GENE (O.S.)
OH YEAH!!! OXFORD LOVES THE GENE-MACHINE BABY!!! AND THE GENE-MACHINE LOVES YOU RIGHT BACK!!! GOOD NIGHT OXFORD!!! STAY CLASSICAL YOU HORNY BASTARDS!!!
ELTON shakes his head and buries his nose back in his book. The door closes, and GENE enters. He is a lanky-sort in his late fifties, with flowing gray hair and the bearing of a bad-boy rock star. He wears a emerald velvet jacket collar turned up, and gold silk scarf. GENE walks over ELTON’s table, spins on his heels, pulls the spare chair out, straddles and sits across from ELTON, staring at him. ELTON ignores GENE for a moment, then speaks.
ELTON
I take it your lecture was well received?
GENE
Un-be-freaking-lieveable!
ELTON
Oh good, another spontaneously invented word.
GENE
Mind blowing Elton. I had no idea I was this good.
ELTON
You rarely miss noticing amazing things about yourself.
GENE
The whole room just wanted me...badly.
ELTON
Shakespearean dissertations have that affect on people.
GENE
I could see people wiggling in their seats!
ELTON
Sexual desire and rapt boredom look so similar.
GENE
Yeah...that confused me at first. But by the end...huh? How do you explain that?
ELTON
Sadly, I missed the ending. I left somewhere between the 60 foot laser animation of Romeo and Juliet freak dancing and your third failed attempt to stage dive.
GENE
I can’t believe you missed the end! It was epic. So I’m wrapping up with my thoughts on “To be or not to be”, right? But, like, not many people know that speech, right?
ELTON
Only ninety-eight or ninety-nine percent of Oxford students could recite it from memory.
GENE
Right! So I want to make sure it sticks with people, because it’s a pretty good speech to know. So I have this stripper pole lowered from the ceiling, and I start doing the speech, ripping off clothes as I do, dancing around the pole like Hamlet is dancing around his destiny.
ELTON
That metaphor is now dead to me.
GENE
I get near the end of the speech, and I’m down to just my pants. I climb up the pole and do one of those lean backwards, upside down things, facing the audience, legs clinched around the top, and I rip the pants off. I say the last line with a ruff collar around each thigh and Shakespeare’s head covering my boys. The crowd’s response was...
ELTON
Uncontrollable vomiting?
GENE
Total stunned silence.
ELTON
My second guess.
GENE
They were so overwhelmed they couldn’t make a sound.
ELTON
You sure they weren’t keeping their jaws clamped shut vis a vis the aforementioned vomiting?
GENE
Jaws were dropped open all over that auditorium.
ELTON
>Not surprising.
GENE
And you...head of the English department. You missed it.
ELTON
Yes...What was I thinking?
GENE rips the book from ELTON’s hands.
GENE
Bleak House? You left MY lecture to sit in a pub and read Bleak House?
ELTON
Careful...that’s a rare edition.
GENE
Oooohhhh...better rush home and read Bleak House one more time. Dickens will release that sequel any day now.
ELTON takes his book back from GENE
ELTON
(shouting)
Well at least I’m versed in the Goddamn material I teach!!!
The whole room goes deathly quiet. ELTON looks around slightly embarrassed, then start speaking to GENE again in a more hushed tone.
ELTON
Look, may I speak frankly?
GENE
You’re British, I doubt it.
ELTON
The Oxford trustees forced me to invite you to be a guest instructor. One of them read an article in People about you...
GENE
I opened for Britney Spears at Yale.
ELTON
They thought you had a new voice, some new insight into Shakespearean literature.
GENE
I was put on this Earth to make Shakespeare sexy.
ELTON
You’re making it repulsive! You’re an arrogant self-absorbed moron who has no insight into the works of William Shakespeare whatsoever, and you hide your astounding stupidity beneath stale rock concert effects and strip-club vulgarity!
GENE
You’re just jealous of my obvious sex appeal.
ELTON
There is nothing appealing about a man nearing sixty hanging upside down from a stripper pole in a thong!
GENE
And ruff collars.
ELTON
Doesn’t improve the overall visual. Now, if this is all you have to offer Oxford, I’m afraid we will have to terminate your stay immediately.
MARJORIE, an attractive woman in her forties walks over. She is also British, and dressed very conservatively.
MARJORIE
Good evening Doctor Lonsberry.
ELTON immediately stands up, all smiles and nerves.
ELTON
Oh, Good Evening Professor Elsbeth. I had no idea you frequented this pub.
MARJORIE
I come here every night. In fact, I’ve seen you in here several times since I told you I loved coming here and reading Dickens.
ELTON
Oh...yes....so you have...and so you did...ah, my mind is such a sieve sometimes Marjorie...ha ha...may I call you Marjorie?
MARJORIE
Am I interrupting something?
ELTON
Not at all...Professor Douglas and I were just discussing his lecture tonight.
MARJORIE
Yes...I saw that...performance. I sat there all the way to the bitter end.
ELTON
Look Marjorie, if I’d had any idea how his presentation would go, believe me I would’ve...
MARJORIE approaches GENE with an intense glare in her eyes.
MARJORIE
Professor Douglas. I refuse to let you leave this pub until you...
Marjorie rips open her blouse
MARJORIE (CONT)
...sign my cleavage.
GENE stands up, pulls a Sharpie out of his jacket, and signs MARJORIE’s chest
MARJORIE (CONT)
Now put Shakespeare’s signature right underneath.
GENE does
MARJORIE
Dear God man, where have you been hiding? Hamlet has never gotten me so hot. I had to have 3 cigarettes after your lecture. I must run to the lavatory, but when I return, I want to see how much of a Rogue and Peasant slave you are, you naughty man.
MARJORIE kisses GENE hard then walks off, flirting with him the whole way. ELTON just watches, stunned. GENE sits down, looking smug.
ELTON
Ummm....soo.
GENE
Yes?
ELTON
I’ve got a Dickens seminar next month. How would you attach mutton chops and a stovepipe hat so that wouldn’t fall off when upside down?
BLACK OUT
This was a weird assignment, to be sure. The parts of PRINE and BRODY are written with the actors Brent Spiner and Stephen Fry in mind...which was kind of fun. I had some fun with it...hopefully you'll agree that I managed something, at least, a bit funny...
INT - THEATRE - EVENING
BRODY GILCREST, portly, middle aged Brit with dark hair, sits at a wooden table backstage, sipping tea. Across from him, partially in shadows, THOMAS PRINE fiddles with something O.S.
BRODY
Isn't that thing about ready, Thomas. My tea is cold, my patience is shot, and curtain call is in less than an hour.
PRINE sticks his head out of the shadows. He's grinning broadly and his eyes sparkle.
PRINE
We'll be ready, and it's going to be spectacular - like the old days.
BRODY
Those days, I'm afraid, are far behind us. The turning over of new leaves often reveals nothing more than damp earth.
PRINE
You should try smiling. You used to smile quite a lot, as I recall.
BRODY harumphs and drains the last of his now tepid tea.
BRODY
So, Thomas, this ... thing ... of yours. You say it will bring down the house? Guaranteed? With the budget we've been provided, I'd be surprised to see more than a dry-ice fog and a few colored lights.
PRINE
I still have...contacts.
BRODY
Yes, old boy, but you aren't to CONTACT them, don't you see.
PRINE
Of course.
BRODY stares into the shadows and frowns.
BRODY
Should I be...concerned?
PRINE's head sticks out of the shadows again, his grin even wider.PRINE
Have I ever given you reason for concern?
A door opens O.S. Voices echo, two men, and a woman. The woman laughs.
BRODY
(rising) I'm glad you are all early. Thomas is making some last minute shifts in the special effects. Please...get ready.
BOBBY PRENTISS, young, dark haired with a cocky grin saunters onto the stage. He's dressed in black leather, a motorcycle jacket with a patch on the sleeve that says BRONZE ANGELS. Beside him, GINGER BUCHANAN, early twenties, petite in skintight jeans and a tube top totters on too-tall heels. Behind them, JIM JENKINS, mid forties with a paunch steps onto the stage. He's dressed in a police officer's uniform.
PRINE
I love cops and robbers.
BRODY
Just get that thing working. We now have less than twenty minutes.
GINGER
Could...could we run through it one time?
BRODY sees the girl's nervousness.
BRODY
Quickly then. Bobby, center stage with Ginger.
PRINE
Uh...
BRODY
What is it? We're just doing a test run.
PRINE
Yes but...
BRODY
Speak up!
PRINE
Nothing.
PRINE returns to his tinkering and the actor's take their places. Bobby stands, hands in pockets in a perfect James Dean slouch. Ginger stands in front of him, glancing over her shoulder nervously.
BRODY
Action.
BOBBY
So...you're gonna go back to Daddy, play the good girl, screw ol' Joey huh?
GINGER
You know I love you, Joey, but.
BOBBY
I know...I'm bad. Always been bad, always will be. Can't blame you for cutting out.
GINGER
(starts to turn away) I...
BOBBY steps forward and wraps her in his arms. She pulls back, and then, as if unable to resist, flutters her eyelids and turns back.
BOBBY
I don't want you to go, baby.
BRODY waves at Prine in the shadows.
O.S. a police siren wails. Tires screech. A door slams. JENKINS steps onto the stage. He's wearing an odd, futuristic helmet, and holding a strange gun leveled at BOBBY.
BRODY
What the...
BOBBY lets go of GINGER, obviously confused. He reaches to his belt, as if going for a gun, or a knife.
BOBBY
You'll never take me, John Law.
BRODY starts to rise and move forward.
PRINE
You might want to say cut before...
JENKINS grins evilly. His eyes are wide, and he points the strange gun straight at BOBBY's heart.
JENKINS
Name's jot John, scumbag. Names Alexander. Alexander Hughes, and...as a matter of fact, I am the law.
BRODY turns to PRINE, eyes wide.
PRINE
Sorry, I couldn't resist. I changed the line.
BRODY turns back as JENKINS pulls the trigger. There's a a flash of brilliant blue light. What appears to be lightning snaps across the stage and bursts through BOBBY's chest, continuing on through curtains and walls. JENKINS stares at the gun, then lets it fall from his hand and staggers back. GINGER faints.
BRODY
(calmly) Thomas...what have you done?
PRINE
Cool, huh? I made it out of spare parts.
There is the sound of falling debris, and a horrible creak from the ceiling above. Both men look up.
PRINE (CONT'D)
I suggest that - perhaps - we should run?
BRODY
I think I need to explain the word retirement to you in clearer terms.
BRODY and PRINE run for the back exit. As the building begins to fall down around them, crushing the actors and the stage, PRINE begins to laugh.
PRINE
I TOLD you to say cut.
BRODY
Next time be clear.
PRINE
Be fair, (diving through the rear door as the walls collapse) I DID bring the house down...
FADE OUT.
Another great fight this week with six warriors bringing eight sketches. Yeah, we got a little crazy.
Well, I couldn't resist. I had this idea when I was working on the Facts of Life sketch earlier for this weeks "Pimp My TV" theme, and people giggled everytime I mentioned it. So, I just had to write it up. I'm just being a little high-concept sketch piggy this week :)
Anyway, hope you enjoy this:
_____________________________________________________
INT. MANSION ENTRYWAY - DAY
Close up on a tuxedo clad handsome blond man in his early thirties, DR. CHASE, adjusts his clothes for a night out when the camera freezes on a closeup of his face
ANNOUNCER (V.O.)
Dr. Jonathan Chase... wealthy, young, handsome. A man with the brightest of futures. A man with the darkest of pasts. From Africa's deepest recesses, to the rarefied peaks of Tibet, heir to his father's legacy and the world's darkest mysteries. Jonathan Chase, master of the secrets that divide man from animal, animal from man
The camera un-freezes. The doorbell rings and DR. CHASE answers. CHICO, a young handsome latino in his early twenties stands there.
CHICO
Hey, man...you need, like, any help with the gardening, or maybe someone to wash your limo?
Freeze on a close up of CHICO’S face
ANNOUNCER (V.O.)
Chico Juarez...unemployed, young, latino. A man with a questionable future. A man with a past no one cares about. Heir to his cousin’s Econovan, master of the dance floor.
Camera un-freezes. DR. CHASE walks over to CHICO and puts his hand on his shoulder.
The Ghostly head of Dr. Chase’s father, Dr. CHASE Senior appears. Only DR. CHASE can see or hear it.
DR. CHASE SENIOR
(in an ethereal voice)
Jonathan...this man can help you in your quest...accept his aid
The head fades
DR. CHASE
My friend, providence has brought us together.
CHICO
No man...I just noticed you got, like, the only mansion in the barrio. So I figure you got money and you like Mexicans, si hermano? Hey, nice threads, man! Hot date tonight?
Camera freezes on the two men facing other in profile.
ANNOUNCER (V.O.)
Together, they’re an unstoppable crime-fighting force of nature.
They turn to silhouettes and titles fly in:
CHICO AND THE MANIMAL
CUT TO:
INT. LIMO - NIGHT
CHICO, now wears a chauffeur’s uniform and drives, while DR. CHASE, still in his tuxedo.
CHICO
Why we gotta follow this car man? My cousin is the bouncer at this hot club...wall to wall chicas.
DR. CHASE
They’re stopping. Quick...the window.
CHICO stops the car, and presses a button lowering a back window. DR. CHASE transforms into a black panther. After a dramatic snarl the panther leaps out the back window in slow motion. CHICO stares ahead looking on in awe.
CHICO
Go get ‘em Dr. Chase.
CHICO notices a smell in the air. After sniffing he looks in the back seat.
CHICO
Awww man...you chase bad guys, I get to hose out the back seat...again!!! Madre de Dios.
CUT TO:
INT. MANSION ENTRYWAY - DAY
ANNOUNCER (V.O.)
With the unknowing assistance of Detective Brooke Mackenzie, they’ll fight to take back the city from the evil that consumes it.
BROOKE MACKNZIE, a beautiful blonde police detective in her late twenties addresses DR. CHASE
BROOKE
If you do see a panther in the area, don’t try to subdue it yourself.
DR. CHASE
Of course detective Mackenzie. But how curious that a wild animal like that was such an aid in apprehending those arms dealers.
BROOKE
Yes, it was curious...are you sure...
CHICO enters, looking at BROOKE and obviously attracted. BROOKE notices CHICO, and stumbles over her words.
BROOKE (CONT)
I...ummm...
CHICO
Que pasa, chica?
CHICO walks around BROOKE, slowly checking her out. BROOKE giggles slightly
DR. CHASE
But the panther was of tremendous help...one might even say heroic in it’s actions.
BROOKE
Oh God yeah...it was so...so hot...helpful, I mean...oh yeah, soooooooo helpful. He moves so gracefully...IT..IT moved!
CUT TO:
EXT. ABANDONED DIRT LOT - NIGHT
ANNOUNCER (V.O.)
Together, they’ll face everything the mean streets can throw at them
CHICO drags DR. CHASE around the corner of a chain link fence, falling back against it. Both men are scraped, bloody and bruised, with large rips in their clothes. CHICO looks back to make sure they weren’t followed.
DR. CHASE
You’ve saved my life my friend. I’m forever in your debt.
CHICO
Just promise me one thing.
DR. CHASE
Anything.
CHICO
Don’t EVER change into a chicken in the barrio again. It’s suicide!
CUT TO:
INT. WAREHOUSE LOFT - NIGHT
CHICO talks to JORGE, while DR. CHASE stands nearby.
CHICO
(to DR. CHASE)
Jorge’s my cousin, it’s cool. Show him.
DR. CHASE looks nervous, then transforms into a panther.
JORGE
Madre de Dios! It’s true!
JORGE runs off screen and returns a black velvet canvas on an easel, and starts painting the panther in neon colores. CHICO smiles
ANNOUNCER (V.O.)
When animal magnetism meets latin heat, it can only be...
Titles fly in as the ANNOUNCER says them
ANNOUNCER (V.O.)
Chico....and the Manimal!
BLACK OUT
EXT. CORN MAZE - DAY
The camera enters the maze and flies through it, cutting around corners, swinging like a pendulum, a rapid swirl of green corn and pale yellow hay. It comes to a dead end. A pig oinks softly. The camera swings around and moves off, the grunts getting louder.
DISSOLVE THROUGH:
Literally through one of the maze walls and find the pig, running with purpose through the maze. The camera follows as the pig rapidly cuts through to the end.
Outside the maze, farmland stretches to the horizon. The camera swings back around to the exterior of the maze, swings down to the ground, and flies straight up, away from the ground.
From high in the sky looking down on the maze we see it spells out -
GREEN ACRES
Everything but the words fades to black and a title appears underneath -
CHRISTMAS 2009
FADE TO BLACK:
(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.
FADE IN:
We see the familiar green title card that precedes all trailers: “The following preview has been approved…” As it fades to black slow, mournful, piano music plays as the following words appear on the screen:
FROM THE DERANGED MIND OF WES CRAVEN, THE MAN WHO BROUGHT YOU A NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET AND SCREAM, COMES A HORRIFYING NEW TALE WHERE EVERYBODY KNOWS YOUR NAME.
SMASH CUT:
INT. BAR - NIGHT
Thunder and lightning. SAM MALONE stands behind the bar, drying glasses. CARLA TORTELLI, CLIFF CLAVIN, WOODY BOYD and DIANE CHAMBERS sit around the bar. Everyone is looking down, not making eye contact with anyone. DR. FRAISER CRANE is up, pacing around.
DIANE
I still think this is a matter best left for the proper authorities.
SAM
Fraiser, would you quit pacing, you’re making me nervous.
FRAISER
I think better on my feet, Sam. Besides, I believe the answer is simple. Ockham’s Razor.
WOODY
Three of our friends are dead, Dr. Crane. I really don’t think this is the right time to talk about shaving habits.
DIANE
He’s talking about a principle of logic, Woody, not a drug store purchase. It means that the simplest explanation is usually the correct one.
FRAISER
Think of it like the plot of an Agatha Christie novel, if you like. We were all here when the killings happened, thus one of us must be the killer.
WOODY
Agatha Christie? Is she the one who played the Police Woman?
CLIFF
You’re thinkin’ of Angie Dickenson.
SAM
Now just a second, Fraiser. Why would any one of us want to kill Paul or Alan or Pete?
CARLA
I don’t know about you, Sammy, but I’m not going to let Dr. Strange-goober accuse me of murdering anyone. If it was Diane, maybe, but these guys?
WOODY
But how do you explain the eerie voice that whispered each of their names just before they turned up dead?
FRAISER
You know, maybe the killer isn’t here. There is one member of this band of merry men whose stool is empty tonight.
The front door slams open! Lightning flashes. Everyone screams. Then -
EVERYONE
NORM!
DIANE
Norman.
WOODY
Hey, Mr. Peterson, what were you doing between the hours of five and five-thirty this evening?
NORM
The usual. Counting down the seconds to sweet, sweet relief. Four, three, two -
Sam slides a mug of beer down the bar, which Norm catches and takes a long drink from.
NORM
Much better.
CLIFF
Eh, excuse me, Doc. But, eh, there’s an even simpler explanation, if I may, eh, theorize.
CARLA
Great, now Professor Van Dummkopf is going to play detective.
CLIFF
Eh, hear me out there, Carla. It’s a well known fact that before the arrival of the white man, this area was mainly home to the Pocumtuck and Nipmuck Indians. But what most people don’t know is that these tribes were, eh, well known practitioners of the dark arts. Voodoo an’ the like. And that this bar was built on one of their most sacred burial grounds.
FRAISER
Cliff, surely you’re not suggesting…
CLIFF
Surely I am, Doc.
SAM
What? What’s he suggesting?
Fraiser looks at everyone.
FRAISER
My God. It’s the bar.
More thunder and lightning. The lights flicker. Everyone gasps.
EERIE WHISPERED VOICE
I know your name.
BLACKOUT
TITLE CARD: WES CRAVEN'S CHEERS - THE RECKONING COMING THIS FALL
SOMETIMES THE TROUBLES AREN’T ALL THE SAME
I admit...I stretched for this. I thought, and I thought...well. I thought, anyway...and you can be the judge of how THAT worked out.
EXT. LATE AFTERNOON - STREET
A blue, older model sedan turns into a driveway and pulls up to a garage door. The driver, WILBUR POST, mid thirties with short dark hair, dressed in a plain business suit, punches his remote. The garage door slides open. He pulls in slowly, and the door closes behind him.
INT. GARAGE - CONTINUOUS
He fumbles with his briefcase, opens the door, and climbs out.
O.S. Something bangs loudly.
WILBUR
Hold your horses!
He fumbles his keys into his pocket, runs his hand over the wall, and finds the light switch.
O.S. The BANG repeats.
WILBUR (CONT'D)
I'm warning you.
The back wall of the garage is covered in pegboards. Tools of all sorts dangle from an array of hooks. Wilbur steps up to the left side of the wall, grabs the handle of a hammer, and pulls it away from the board.
A whirring sound fills the air.
O.S. The banging sound grows rapid and frantic.
WILBUR (CONT'D)
Damnit, I said...
CUT TO:
EXT. DRIVEWAY - cONTINUOUS
NARRATOR (V.O.)
Wilbur Post is a man with a secret. He has hidden it from the prying eyes of his neighbors.
CUT TO:
EXT. HOUSE ACROSS THE STREET - CONTINUOUS
MABEL POTTER - thin, waspish, thick glasses with cat's eye frames, peers out through her blinds at the door to Wilbur's garage.
NARRATOR (V.O.)
Unbeknownst to his employers, or his co-workers.
CUT TO:
INT. GARAGE - CONTINUOUS
The back wall continues to slide open. Wilbur's phone rings loudly, playing a catchy tune.
O.S. The banging sound becomes like thunder. Wilbur pulls out his phone and flips it open. He checks the incoming number.
WILBUR
Damn it.
O.S. A voice rises from a very low pitched rumble.
WILBUR (CONT'D)
Ed?
ED
Wiiiiilllburrrr.... RUN!
The phone is still ringing. Wilbur glances down at it, then at the back wall. Something large and white appears in the shadows.
Wilbur answers the phone.
WILBUR
Bob? I'm going to have to get back to you.
He glances up again.
WILBUR (CONT'D)
Oh...no.
CUT TO:
EXT. WILBUR'S GARAGE - CONTINUOUS
A horrible vibration rocks the garage. It resolves itself into a huge, wet fart. The door opens, and Wilbur staggers out into his driveway.
ED
(floating out from inside)
I'm sorry, Wilbuuuuurrr.
NARRATOR (V.O.)
And in violation of some tenets of The Geneva Convention.
MABEL
Wilbur? Wilbur Post? What are you doing over there young man? There are rules in this neighborhood.
Wilbur turns, gulps in great lungfuls of air and waves.
WILBUR
Everything is under control, Mrs. Potter. Just a little trouble with an aerosol can.
Wilbur staggers back into the garage.
INT. WILBUR'S GARAGE - CONTINUOUS
The back wall is now fully open revealing a window. Centered in that window, a large white horse stares out at Wilbur.
ED
I toooolld you to run.
WILBUR
Damnit Ed ...
There is a wet, squishing sound. Wilbur stops cold He stares at the floor.
ED
Now you've stepped in it....
NARRATOR (V.O.)
A man, and his horse, live a secret life. One locked away in a garage stall from which he cannot exit without being carted off to a farm - the other with a secret no one would understand. This...is their story...
Cue the Mr. Ed Theme song.
Friday Sketch War
Pimp My TV Edition
“Quantum Leap Trailer”
FADE IN:
SERIES OF SHOTS (1995)
Brief glimpses of shaky digi-cam footage:
A) SAM BECKETT (30s, likeable) works in a high-tech science lab.
B) He steps into a pillar of smoke.
C) He vanishes in a flash of blue light.
Meanwhile, the caption "1995" appears and fades, and a clear female voice narrates --
ZIGGY (V.O.)
In 1995, Dr. Sam Beckett stepped into the main accelerator of Project Quantum Leap and vanished --
OVER BLACK
ZIGGY (V.O.)
-- until now.
EXT. MILITARY OUTPOST (1976) - DAY
A dusty, utilitarian building in the middle of nowhere. A caption -- "1976" -- appears and fades.
INT. INTERROGATION ROOM - CONTINUOUS
A small, white, antiseptic room with minimal furniture. A massive mirror takes up one of the walls.
MILLINGTON (20s, intense, creepy) looms over OTIS (8, farm boy, scared).
OTIS
I'm Otis Beaufoy.
MILLINGTON
No. You've temporarily taken Otis's place. Otis is cooling his heels in a lab in California, thirty years in the future.
OTIS
That's crazy!
MILLINGTON
Is it --
Millington GRABS Otis's arm (cree-py), and something odd happens --
Otis morphs into Dr. Sam Beckett.
MILLINGTON
-- Dr. Beckett?
He nods to the mirror.
MILLINGTON
Kill him.
Sam dives for cover just as GUNSHOTS shatter the mirror.
EXT. LAKESIDE (2010) - DAY
AL (60s, cantankerous) walks and talks with an UNSEEN FIGURE in idyllic surroundings.
AL
Sam randomly leaps from person to person, and decade to decade. Even I can't find him any more.
Most of this line is voiceover for a --
SERIES OF SHOTS>
A) Sam looks into a smeary mirror in a gas-station bathroom. His mirror image is an elderly black man. (Caption: "1958".)
B) Sam drives a Cadillac through the desert. He wears sunglasses and a hat, and he smokes a cigarette in a cigarette holder. In the car's rearview, Hunter S. Thompson looks back. (Caption: "1971".)
C) Sam clumsily applies lipstick in a ladies' restroom. In the mirror: an attractive blonde. (Caption: "1985".)
BACK TO SCENE
Still walking and talking.
UNSEEN FIGURE
Maybe we can help.
New angle REVEALS that the figure is MILLINGTON, now in his 50s, still intense, still creepy!
OLD MILLINGTON
So. What makes Sam tick?
EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD STREET (1993) - NIGHT
Fire trucks flash their lights on a suburban street as a three-alarm fire dies down. ONLOOKERS gape at the destruction. (The caption: "1993".)
A three-alarm fire dies down.
ONLOOKERS gape at the destruction.
Sam, in full firefighter's gear, hands a bottle of water to RHEA (30s), holding a cat, still attractive despite the soot, grime, and singed clothing.
SAM
I know what it's like to lose your home. You'd give anything to get it back, and --
RHEA
Wait, how did you even know we were trapped in there?
SAM
I'm a time-travelling scientist from the future.
Beat.
Rhea laughs.
RHEA
Whatever.
INT./EXT. SURVEILLANCE VAN - CONTINUOUS
Two scary-looking GOVERNMENT AGENT types watch Sam and Rhea with high-tech equipment.
AGENT #1
We've acquired the target.
RADIO VOICE (FILTERED)
Get him.
The agents depart the van, weapons drawn.
INT. SHABBY LIVING ROOM (2010) - DAY
GUSHIE, a little technician with bad breath and odd clothes, shows Al a cryptic readout on a homebuilt computer.
AL
What does any of this mean?
GUSHIE
Sam has a trackable signature. We can find him.
AL
Tell me where.
INT. MOD NIGHTCLUB (1966) - NIGHT
An over-the-top nightclub full of garish colors (caption: "1966").
A rectangle of light appears in the air; HOLOGRAM AL enters through it.
A PASSERBY walks straight through Al like he's a ghost.
Al crosses to --
A NEARBY TABLE
-- where *three* Sams sit, all scribbling equations.
AL
Sam. I'm back.
SAM #1
Al?
SAM #2
Al?
SAM #3
Al!
Sam #3 leaps up and tries to give Al a big hug.
He sweeps right through the hologram.
Al rolls his eyes.
EXT. WHEAT FIELD (1959) - DAY
In the middle of nowhere, a small airplane bears down on Sam, North by Northwest-style. Sam hits the ground. Holo-Al stands nearby, the wheat sweeping through him. (Caption: "1959".)
EXT. WHEAT FIELD - LATER
Sam and Al hide out from the plane.
SAM
Why would someone be after me?
AL
You've had this hero gig, going from place to place, setting things right that once went wrong.
This serves as voiceover for another quick --
SERIES OF SHOTS
A) In Yankee Stadium, Sam hits a fly ball into deep center field. (Caption: "1967".)
B) Sam pilots a Medivac helicopter through a sandstorm. (Caption: "1992".)
C) Sam kisses a movie starlet in a Douglas-Sirk-looking scene on a film set. (Caption: "1957.")
BACK TO SCENE
Right back where we were.
SAM
What, was somebody setting them wrong in the first place?
Al doesn't answer, but he looks worried.
The plane makes another pass.
INT. UNIVERSITY LAB (1958) - NIGHT
Al follows Sam through a lab full of boxy old-style lab equipment (caption: "1958"), and he's mad as hell.
SAM
I have to stop these people.
AL
I made you a promise. I promised you I was gonna bring you home.
Sam approaches a big red button.
SAM
Not yet, Al.
Sam hits the button.
Suddenly, the room dissolves into --
INT. HOLO-ROOM - NIGHT
Now Al is all alone in a plain room similar to the Enterprise's holo-deck.
AL
Dammit!
EXT. KHE SAHN, VIETNAM (1968) - DAY
Sam, now in military fatigues, drags a WOUNDED SOLDIER to shelter while bombs EXPLODE nearby and airplanes lay down STRAFING FIRE. (Caption: "1968".)
WOUNDED SOLDIER
Leave me! That's an order!
SAM
We just have to go a little further!
INT. PROJECT QUANTUM LEAP (2010) - DAY
Al, bruised and bleeding, picks his way through the lab we saw at the beginning.
Except now it looks like a bomb has hit it.
Smoke and sparks everywhere.
The same voice from the opening --
ZIGGY (O.S.)
Initiating auto-destruct sequence. Good-bye Al.
AL
What? No!
INT. CONTROL ROOM (2010) - NIGHT
A high-tech center that puts everything at Project Quantum Leap to shame. Three-dimensional holo-projections float about the desks and big e-ink maps cover the walls.
Al, still looking beat-up, sits handcuffed to a chair.
Millington stands by a control pad and lectures him.
MILLINGTON
You lost, Al. We won. And now, *we* decide what happens to Sam!
He turns a key on the control pad and pulls a lever.
EXT. FREE-FALL - DAY
A BLINDING FLASH OF BLUE as Sam leaps into a body that's in free-fall, 10,000 feet up, plummeting towards earth.
SAM
Oh boy.
SMASH CUT TO:
QUANTUM LEAP LOGO
The first few notes of the original theme song play faintly.
A jumble of different years fade in and out in the background.
"2010" fades in beneath the main logo, and sticks.
FADE OUT.
EXT. CITY STREET - NIGHT
A middle-aged black WOMAN cradles a bloody, lifeless young teen in her arms. WILL, a tall black teenager stands next to her. Sirens wail in the distance.
WOMAN
Will! Will! What have you done!
CUT TO:
CU on Will's face.
WILL
Snitch got what he deserved.
CUT TO:
Medium shot. Sirens closing in.
WOMAN
Baby, you gotta get outta here. Go!
Will pauses a moment, then runs. Camera lingers on him running away, then cuts back to woman and child.
A funky bass riff starts playing. Quick cuts of the city streets - random violence on display everywhere. Muggers, prostitutes, pimps, and dealers on every corner. Cops beating a suspect in the middle of the street. The bass is joined by a small combo and continues through the trailer.
TITLES fly on the screen like spray painted graffiti - "Mean Streets"
NARRATOR (V.O.)
Growing up on the mean streets of Philly teaches a brother to look out for number one. This fly young cat ain't no different.
TITLES - "One Fly Cat"
INT. LIVING ROOM - DAY
A posh, huge house. A staircase spirals up in the background. Will stands in the middle of the room with a small bag in one hand and a gat in the other.
WILL
This'll do.
CARLTON, a short but muscular teen, enters the room wearing a bow tie. He's got a shotgun trained at Will.
CARLTON
How can I help you, cuz?
WILL
They call me Fresh. I'm taking over this town.
TITLES - "They Call Him Fresh"
INT. BAR - NIGHT
Will and Carlton beat down some thugs with baseball bats.
TITLES - "Tough"
NARRATOR (V.O.)
From the rough...
INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT
Will and a beautiful woman going at it.
TITLES - "Sexy"
NARRATOR (V.O.)
...to the tumble. Fresh takes no prisoners...
INT. LIVING ROOM - DAY
Will is surrounded by FOUR HENCHMEN with guns.
NARRATOR (V.O.)
...as he builds his army.
EXT. STREET CORNER - DAY
Carlton kicks a dealer repeatedly while Will watches, impassive.
TITLES - "Cool"
INT. BOUTIQUE - DAY
Pricey. Lux. Will and his bow-tied sidekick shoot two well-dressed MEN in the head. A WOMAN watches in horror.
NARRATOR (V.O.)
He came to town an outsider, but became royalty.
WILL
Tell your boss I'm comin' for him.
The woman stands still, shaking.
WILL
Go!
She runs.
TITLES - "Commanding"
INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT
Will and Carlton have two scantily-clad women each. A pile of money fills the coffee table in front of them.
A BUTLER enters with a large silver tray. He lowers it in front of the men and we
CUT TO:
CU on two fat lines of coke. Will and Carlton lean into frame and snort it all.
TITLES - "Living Large"
NARRATOR (V.O.)
He had it all.
INT. RESTAURANT - NIGHT
DON GIOVANNI sits at a small table in front of a huge plate of pasta. BODYGUARDS flank him. Across from him sits one of his LIEUTENANTs, scrawny and nervous.
DON GIOVANNI
What the -BLEEP- do you mean they ain't payin' the protection money?
INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT
Will and Carlton stand amidst bloody corpses. Girls, their henchmen, their butler.
NARRATOR (V.O.)
And then he had war.
INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT
Will and Carlton strap on guns and ammo, ready for war.
INT. RESTAURANT - NIGHT
Will lies dying on the floor. Don Giovanni is dead, his men are all dead. Carlton scrambles over the bodies to Will's side.
CARLTON
(Through tears)
You gonna be fine, Fresh!
WILL
I ain't gonna make it. You gotta take my place. Carry on.
TITLES - "Maybe Just a Little Bit Gay"
CARLTON
I can't.
WILL
You gotta.
(Coughs)
You gotta.
NARRATOR (V.O.)
When the cool fall, it's tragedy.
TITLES - "The Prince of Bel-Air"
BLACKOUT:
Looks like I got the honor of being the first warrior on the field of battle this week...
So this week we had a little change up, and got our sketch inspiration from the Pimp My TV contest going on at Filmaker Frenzy (http://www.filmmakingfrenzy.com/sites/filmfrenzy_beta/ViewFrenzy.aspx?FrenzyId=18) . In the tradition of John Woo doing Mission: Impossible and JJ Abrams directing Star Trek, I decided to go with classic show reinterpreted by iconic director.
Take it away Mr. Director:
_________________________________________________
SLOW FADE IN:
EXT. - PREP SCHOOL - DAY
Snow flakes fall on the tops of an evergreen forest. As the camera descends in slow motion, we can see the red ceramic tiles of an estate-like building under a light blanket of snow, then we see big glass windows, beige stone, big wooden doors, concrete benches in the courtyard, and a brick walkway leading to the door.
ANNOUNCER (V.O.)
This Christmas, one of America’s most celebrated directors brings one of America’s grittiest television shows to the big screen.
Music starts, and the first words of “Girl, You’ll be a Woman Soon” by Urge Overkill are sung
SINGER (V.O.)
Girl....you’ll be a woman, soon...
The music continues as the camera settles close to the ground in the middle of the brick sidewalk. Four girls - one blond, one brunette, one African American, and one heavier girl - all in prep-school uniforms (red plaid skirts, knee socks, navy-blue sweaters, carrying books) walk past the camera still in slow motion.
The camera shifts around so we can see the school girls in profile. It goes down the line showing each girl’s face, pausing long enough for their name to be captioned with a name:
Blonde girl’s caption: BLAIR
Brunette girl’s caption: JO
Heavy-set girl’s caption: NATALIE
African-American girl’s caption: TOOTIE
They stop in equal stances framing the big front door, which opens to reveal matronly woman in her late 50’s with bright orange hair (MRS. GARRETT).
Caption comes up on screen: EDNA GARRETT
MRS. GARRETT
You lazy bitches better get in this motherfuckin’ cafeteria or I will get medieval on your asses, I shit you not!
Titles come up on screen:
QUENTIN TARANTINO’S
FACTS OF LIFE
CUT TO:
INT. CAFETERIA - DAY
MRS. GARRETT locks the doors behind the girls.
MRS. GARRETT
Listen up. Drummond’s fast tracked this job - it’s big. Gear up.
JO, BLAIR, TOOTIE and NATALIE go pull folding cafeteria tables out from the walls. Behind them are racks of guns, knives, swords, etc. The girls start pulling them out and strapping them on.
MRS. GARRETT
We pull this off, and Drummond keeps Edna’s Edibles in flour, sugar, coke for a long time. Code names...Blair you’re Ms. Blond. Jo, you’re Ms. Brunette. Tootie you’re Ms. Black. Natalie, you’re Ms. Michelin.
NATALIE is visibly pissed. The girls, armed and wearing black suits, black ties, white shirts and Ray Bans come to the middle of the room.
MRS. GARRETT
Drummond wants this clean, capice?
BLAIR
We need to make this quick. I got a date tonight.
JO
Me too.
TOOTIE
Me too.
Everyone looks at NATALIE who keeps quiet.
MRS. GARRETT
Natalie, you’ve got clean up.
They all exit, with NATALIE hesitating before following
CUT TO:
INT. EDNA’S EDIBLES - NIGHT
MRS. GARRETT snorts lines of coke off the glass pastry case she stands behind in small bakery cafe cash. JO, TOOTIE and BLAIR tidy up around the shop
MRS. GARRETT
I can’t believe Natalie missed her shift. She never misses a chance to be around food. Something’s fucked up.
The big storefront glass window with the words “Edna’s Edibles” explodes inward. NATALIE bursts through and unloads a pump-action shotgun blast into the pastry case. Three girls in prep-school uniforms and zipper-mouthed leather bondage masks stand behind her brandishing identical shotguns.
NATALIE
The motherfuckin’ cookbook...NOW!!!
MRS. GARRETT tosses her a big book with a glare.
NATALIE
Edna’s Edibles is permanently closed...people in this neighborhood will eat at “Natalie’s Noshes”.
NATALIE and the masked girls back out of the cafe with the book, and toss in several molotov cocktails. MRS. GARRETT speaks as the flames get higher around her.
MRS. GARRETT
(yelling)
You can’t run bitch! My righteous fury shall be tempered in your flames, and my vengeance shall rain down upon thee like all the plagues of Egypt. Behold, for I shall come upon thee like a thief in the night, and that is a fact!!!
CUT TO:
INT. BASEMENT - NIGHT
MARK, a teenage prep-school boy, sits tied to a metal chair under a single hanging bulb. His face is bruised and bloody. BLAIR, TOOTIE and JO stand around him.
TOOTIE
He ain’t gonna squeal where Natalie’s at.
JO
Bring in the gimp.
BLAIR snaps her fingers. A door opens showing a sliver of light and a tall shambling figure walks in. Sweat pours down MARK’s terrified face as he hears the scarping footsteps in the dark. He’s almost ready to scream when the mystery figure, GERI, steps into the light and starts speaking
GERI
Hi I’m Geri. I’m Blair’s cousin, and I have cerebral palsy, but that won’t stop me from entertaining you with 30 minutes of people-positive comedy!
MARK
(screaming)
AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!
CUT TO:
INT. PENTHOUSE APARTMENT - DAY
NATALIE and her masked girls kick in the white double doors and enter. NATALIE wears a samurai sword strapped to her back
NATALIE
Fan out...Drummond’s here some place.
A short African American boy, ARNOLD, flies in and takes out the three masked girls with some fast acrobatic kung fu. He lands in front of the stair case. He also has a samurai sword strapped to his back.
ARNOLD
Mr. Drummond’s out.
NATALIE pulls a .45 from her waistband and aims it at ARNOLD.
NATALIE
Says who?
ARNOLD whips out a throwing star that rips the .45 Out of NATALIE’s grasp.
ARNOLD
Says me.
NATALIE draws her samurai sword and goes into a dueling stance.
NATALIE
I’ll go upstairs and wait.
ARNOLD pulls his sword and goes into his dueling stance.
ARNOLD
What you talkin’ ‘bout, bitch?
CUT TO:
INT. MUSCLE CAR - NIGHT
JO drives, BLAIR rides shotgun, TOOTIE sits in the middle of the back seat. All wear Ray Bans that reflect street lights as they drive the black 1967 Dodge Charger. They stare straight ahead intensely as the engine roars, and don’t speak for a long time.
JO
You know what they call a Quarter Pounder with Cheese in France?
BLAIR
Natalie would know.
TOOTIE
Natalie knows food.
CUT TO:
INT. CRUMBLING WAREHOUSE - NIGHT
NATALIE has her sword drawn as do JO, TOOTIE and BLAIR. The three circle her. NATALIE is dirty, sweaty, and her school uniform torn. A spotlight pops on illuminating MRS. GARRET on the catwalk above the factory floor. Half of her face is scarred from horrific burns, making her twisted smile more horrifying.
MRS. GARRETT
Poor Natalie....the world never seems to be living up to your dreams. Girls, teach her a little life lesson for me.
ANNOUNCER (V.O.)
You take the good...
Close up on NATALIE
ANNOUNCER (V.O.)
You take the bad...
Close up on MRS. GARRETT
ANNOUNCER (V.O.)
You take ‘em both and there you have...
High shot of the girls circling NATALIE
JO, BLAIR and TOOTIE lunge at NATALIE with swords above their heads poised to slash. The screen goes completely black and titles slowly fade up:
QUENTIN TARANTINO’S
FACTS OF LIFE
Coming Soon
This film is not yet rated
FADE TO BLACK.
INT. RESTAURANT - NIGHT
Six white dudes sit around a table in a manly, meat-oriented restaurant. Glasses of beer sit at various levels of fullness in front of each man, a half-full pitcher in the center of the table.
KEN
That was great, guys. Thanks.
DAVE
It's not over yet.
KEN
You mean?
PETER
Oh yeah!
INT. HOTEL ROOM - NIGHT
KEN sits blindfolded on a straight-backed chair in the middle of the room. The other five men sit facing Ken in a rough circle.
KEN
Guys, this is awesome. Thanks.
MICHAEL
You deserve it.
A CLOWN walks into the room holding a seltzer bottle in one hand and a cream pie in the other.
KEN
Is she here yet?
RA
She?
The clown sprays Ken in the face. He removes his blindfold and immediately gets a pie in the kisser.
KEN, DAVE, PETER, MICHAEL, RA, DAVID W.
Happy Birthday!
KEN
You guys!
The clown pulls another cream pie from behind his back and puts it square in Kens face.
BLACKOUT:
Well frak if that wasn't a hell of a war this week! To all the new visitors to Sketch War, welcome again. What you saw this week was a pretty good example of what we do around here every week, with a few minor modifications. We hope you enjoyed the sketches, and if you haven't had a chance to read them all, here's your chance. A record six warriors entered the arena this week swinging their +2 Maces of Mirth and Slashing with +4 Swords of Silliness.
(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 entrรฉe 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?
I'm finally writing commentary for the last month or so of Sketchwar. The January 10th war had the theme of "Cartoons".
I think "Cartoons" is the best war I've been in so far.
It wound up being one of the best topics, certainly. Mr. Porter (AKA "Coyote") suggested "Looney Tunes", I proposed generalizing it, and we were off and running. I loved that we all sat down and wrote cartoons. We could done something lame like having cartoonists talk about cartoons, or have a live-action scene that seems somehow cartoonish, but face it: if a reader comes to this war knowing the subject, they're going to want cartoons, dammit.
And even though we all performed the same basic task, we each had our own takes on the material. As Mr. Porter said, "We've got a Hanna-Barbera, a Loony Tunes, and what I'm picturing as a Tex Avery. Good stuff." So not only did we like cartoons enough to try writing them, we also knew enough about cartoons to aim for (and hit) very particular styles.
This time we had three entries: this one from Mr. Robertson, this one from Mr. Porter, and this one from me.
Mr. Robertson did something cool with his sketch that you might not have noticed. By line four of the sketch, you think you know how it ends: Daphne and Velma reveal that they are lovers. Lots of sketches do this: there's a setup, there's a clear endpoint, and you spend three minutes bridging to that preordained conclusion. There's no tension and there are no surprises -- the plot is basically a clothesline you can string the jokes onto.
But Mr. Robertson gets to that conclusion, and he still has about a third of the sketch to go. We don't expect it to expand out into "the entire mystery-solving thing is a scam", and we certainly don't expect "Shaggy has been spying on Daphne and Fred."
That said, the whole thing needs to be about half the length. Mr. Robertson posted earlier about employing a looser style reminiscent of improv, but I don't think it works here. The big problem with writing 'loose' sketch is that you run smack into audience expectations. The audience for an Apatow feature might expect loose improv-style comedy, but they expect a sketch to be a haiku. They want whatever happens is either funny or directly setting up something funny -- anything else, however well-intentioned or brilliantly-observed, is going to feel like it doesn't belong.
So: a good six-minute sketch with a better three-minute sketch somewhere in there.
Mr. Porter came through with a much more Tex-Avery-style cartoon.
And my god it's a good premise. Elmer Fudd accepting an award for his research into Hammerspace is a great idea for a setting -- it's meta, but it's meta like the original cartoons were, not meta in that godawful, too-cool-for-the-material style. And the mayhem that happens makes perfect sense for the cartooniverse.
That said, there are ways to improve the sketch.
I'd find a different (and faster) way into the material. I'd cut the opening news segment and just establish in the first shot that Fudd is at an award ceremony. Bugs can announce that Fudd has won for black holes. Fudd can extract his acceptance speech out of one such black hole.
Then you follow it up with anti-physics mayhem รก la "Presto"
Then there's my sketch, "Frank Defeats the Angel of Death".
By this point, I have a straightforward workflow for Sketchwar. I get the topic on Saturday, and then I spend a few days freewriting, writing down lots of sluglines for what my sketch might be about. And as I'm doing this, I'm trying to find the one interesting thing that will get me from an idea to a completed sketch.
Every time I've written something decent for Sketchwar, there's been that one aspect of the piece that's seen me through it. For the history piece, it was Joey's overenthusiastic voice. For the first-date piece, it was the image of a couple at a restaurant suddenly attacked by ninjas. There's always that one little thing that makes you giggle like mad, and you write a whole sketch just as an excuse to include it.
In this case, I started thinking about cartoons. Then I started thinking about the great silent cartoons. And I thought about how those usually have simple objectives and really clear protagonists and antagonists. I figured I might have a cat as a protagonist.
Somehow from that I wrote down the title "Frank Defeats the Angel of Death" and, well, that's the sketch I had to write. You can't think of a title that cool and then go write something else.
All in all, I'm happy with what I wrote. I got the buildup going the way I wanted it -- start with just the lobbed Christmas-tree ornaments, and then go from there. I got some good re-use out of the few elements in the room: tree, drink, fireplace.
The ending was a bit wobbly. I knew I had to have Frank accidentally topple the tree -- I think that's what everybody expects, no? -- and having that happened as the party guests arrived was a good way to make the situation even worse.
I had a devil of a time figuring out where to go from there. In early outlines, I had the angel merely injured in the climactic battle, and then come back from the trash later on. I had Frank's "explanation" fail utterly. I just never got a good ending out of it.
The first good step was incinerating the angel. ("Ah! I can re-use the fireplace!") The second good step was throwing in the reversal -- Frank is in desperate trouble, and then everybody feels sorry for him and gives him tuna. I don't know if re-using the popcorn rope really works as a last beat, but I needed some kind of reincorporation.
That said, I think the whole thing could be funnier. I got a certain amount of humor out of Olive's[1] yuppie yammering, but the scene itself is more "straightforward action" than I'd like.
All in all, though, I'm content with my cartoon. The next two I wrote? I'm less happy with those.
More later....
______
[1] Note: I didn't intentionally name-check Frank and Ollie with this, but I did notice it about halfway through writing.
FADE IN:
INT. BANK TELLER LINE - DAY
MARK, well dressed and handsome, is standing in line waiting to cash a check. He notices GARY, dressed in drab, ill-fitting clothes, holding a sack of change. Gary looks at his watch.
MARK
That’s a nice watch.
GARY
Oh, thanks. My mom got it for me.
MARK
Same one Tiger Woods wears.
GARY
Oh yeah? I’m not really a golf watcher.
MARK
Who is? No, I just like the products the man pitches. He has good taste.
GARY
I guess I never put much thought into celebrity backed endorsements.
MARK
Well, you should. It used to take me hours to get dressed in the morning because all of my clothes were like yours, boring and un-endorsed. But now...
Mark begins pointing out articles of clothing, starting with his shoes and moving up to his sunglasses. (Shoes, socks, pants, belt, shirt, jacket, sunglasses.)
MARK
Clooney, Gere, Depp, Pitt, Pitt, Eastwood, Dempsey. The cologne is by Federline and the boxers are Michael Jordan slash Cuba Gooding, Jr.
GARY
Wow.
MARK
Thanks. I know. You should try it.
GARY
I’d give my left nut for some fancy, advertised clothes.
MALE VOICE (O.S.)
I did.
Everyone turns to see LANCE ARMSTRONG, dressed very fashionably, stroll into the shot.
GARY
Seven time Tour de France winner and Subaru pitchman, Lance Armstrong?!
Lance speaks directly to the camera.
LANCE
Thanks to the generous folks at Celeb’s Threads dot com, now you can purchase celebrity endorsed items at deep, deep discounts. Look like Johnny Depp, in the pages of Vogue, without feeling like you had to pay with the family jewels.
Lance waves his arm and there’s a bright flash and now Gary is also very stylishly attired. And in place of his sack of change, he now carries a man-bag with a small yippie dog in it.
GARY
Wow. Thanks Celeb’s Threads dot com!
LANCE
You’re welcome, Gary. Or should I say McDreamy?
They laugh. Everyone admires what the other is wearing as the logo, a lemming wearing Hugo Boss, appears on the screen.
ANNOUNCER
Celeb’s Threads dot com. Celebrity fashions at trailer park prices. Because, let’s face it, we all want to look like someone else.
FADE OUT:
