Friday Night Sketch War: Learning Something New About History Edition

Another tough topic, though not nearly as painful, or likely to make a grown man cry and jump on a couch, as Oprah. Again, we had three warriors enter the fray. They acquitted themselves well.

• Coyote pulled back the curtain on the massive conspiracy that controls the world...
• Ken told a heartwarming tale of gold, frankincense, myrrh, and dealing vaporizers...
• Peter gave a history lesson on Hannibal, Fuck Yeah!

Three solid sketches on a beyatch of a topic. Next week's topic: first dates.

If you want to play along, write a sketch and send a link to it to sketchwar at dreamloom.com. And be sure to come back next Friday when we're hoping to have a few new competitors.

FSW: The Truth About Harry

Quick point of order: Peter is a bastard for coming up with this week's theme, Learning something new about history. May a thousand beetles crawl into his closet and take up residence in his favorite sneaker. The left one, not the right one.

Come back on Saturday for the recap, where I give you links to the (hopefully) better sketches on the theme.

The Truth About Harry

INT. BAR - NIGHT

A dark, quiet hideaway where men go to get drunk. MICHAEL early 40s and reedy, with the wild eyes of a hunted man, and Peter, late 20s and not crazy, sit nursing scotches. A BARTENDER wipes glasses at the other end of the bar.

MICHAEL

Truman was a Freemason.

PETER

What?

MICHAEL

Haberdasher is a code word for Freemason.

PETER

No, haberdasher is a code word for "guy who sells belts and socks."

MICHAEL

C'mon! All the evidence is right in front of you and you just won't see it.

PETER

Enlighten me, oh wise one.

MICHAEL

Yeah, the Illuminati got their start in the Enlightenment, but we don't have to go that far back. (Beat) So what do you think Truman was doing at Yalta while Roosevelt was negotiating with Stalin?

PETER

What do I think Truman was doing at Yalta?

MICHAEL

Yeah.

PETER

I think Truman was asking himself how the hell he ended up in Yalta when he never went to Yalta.

MICHAEL

What do you mean?

PETER

I mean, Roosevelt went to Yalta, not Truman.

MICHAEL

Are you sure? I read somewhere that Truman and Churchill ganged up on Stalin at the conference.

PETER

A, that was Potsdam, after the war. And B, if you thought that, why would you imply he was off doing God-knows-what instead of negotiating the peace?

MICHAEL

Exactly. See, if Truman was at Potsdam, it's not too far to conclude that he was working in the shadows at Yalta, right? Behind the scenes, pulling the strings.

PETER

(To the bartender)

Excuse me, can I get whatever he's drinking?

MICHAEL

I'm serious.

PETER

You think the Vice President of the United States spent a month out of the country, in the middle of a war, and no one knew it?

MICHAEL

See how impossible that sounds? Only the Freemasons could have pulled something like that off.

Peter stares for a second. He opens his mouth to talk...then shakes his head.

MICHAEL (CONT'D)

But he wasn't there for a month, just a few days. The Freemasons smuggled Truman over in their secret submarine--

PETER

--What?

MICHAEL

Their submarine. The Nautilus.

PETER

Like from the book?

MICHAEL

Which book is that?

PETER

Um...20,000 Leagues Under the Ocean? Sea. 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. The Verne.

MICHAEL

I knew you weren't completely ignorant. Right. Jules Verne. He was too proud to let his work go unnoticed.

PETER

You're saying Jules Verne built the Nautilus. A real submarine. And then he wrote about it.

MICHAEL

Yeah, and it got him kicked out.

PETER

(Playing along, now)

I didn't know. So, the Masons kicked him out.

MICHAEL

The Illuminati. It was their sub. They just leased it to the Freemasons. Anyway, they got Truman to Yalta two days ahead of Roosevelt and he and Churchill divvied up Germany. Roosevelt thought he was so tough with his big stick...

Peter winces at this latest bit of stupidity from Michael...

MICHAEL (CONT'D)

...but it was Truman who really talked softly.

PETER

You know that was Teddy not...oh, nevermind.

MICHAEL

Then Howard Hughes flew him back home in the Spruce Goose right before Roosevelt showed up. The rest of the conference was just for show. Same with Potsdam. And once Truman gave Einstein the plans for the A-bomb--

PETER

--What?!?

MICHAEL

Scary, isn't it? The New World Order is coming, man, and you can't stop it.

The bartender comes toward our boys.

BARTENDER

Closing time, gents.

PETER

Okay, I've had my fill for the night, anyway. Michael. Seriously. You need help.

MICHAEL

I know. That's why I keep writing on my blog and mailing out the newsletter. I can't stop them alone.

PETER

(Sad for his friend)

Yeah. That's what I meant. Um, I've gotta go. I'll see you around, okay?

MICHAEL

Sure man. Next time drinks are on me.

Peter exits quickly. Michael downs the rest of his drink and gets up to go.

BARTENDER

Mr. Howard, I'm afraid we can't let you leave.

A hidden door behind the bar slides open and reveals a huge Masonic crest. Two men in monk's habits step out behind two serious looking pistols.

BARTENDER (CONT'D)

You know too much.

BLACKOUT:

Friday Night Sketch War: Oprah Edition

Yours truly - like many before him - fell under the spell of one Ms. Oprah Gail Winfrey's hypnotic powers. I thought to myself did I, "oh, Oprah would make a great theme for Sketch War. So many topics. So many sketch ideas. This will be great!" She's ephemeral. Like a ghost, or Duke Nukem Forever, just when you think you've got a firm grasp on her she disappears.

• Peter made me throw up in my mouth a little bit with his erotic...fantasies of Big O...
• Coyote reacted to a dog bite and a bee sting with a few of Oprah's favorite things...
• Ken gave us a terrifying glimpse of the future Oprah is giving us.
  

We all struggled this week and weren't able to bring our usual B-games. Still, there are a few chuckles to be had. Next week, in what is hopefully an easier topic, Peter's selected learning something new about history.

If you want to play along, write a sketch and send a link to it to sketchwar at dreamloom.com. And be sure to come back next Friday when we're hoping to have a few new competitors.

FSW: Oprah's Favorite Things

Holy crap. I swear, when I thought of Oprah last week, I had visions of sketches writing themselves. So many ideas filled my head: Oprah as a cruel taskmaster; Oprah as an international spy; Oprah giving hitmen assignments with envelopes under their seats. Those ideas? They don't work. Nothing worked. I was going to do a dinner party where Steadman was the butler? Crap. Everything crap.

Then I realized I really needed to take Oprah *out* of the sketch.

This isn't comedy gold, but I think it's alright. As for the products mentioned...thank you Wikipedia!

Peter's sketch is up already - and is both funny and disturbing. I credit him for reminding me that Oprah permeates our culture. Of course, I won't be crediting him when I have nightmares tonight. No word yet from anyone else, but come on back for the recap this weekend.

Oprah's Favorite Things

INT. LIVING ROOM - DAY

MAYBELLE and her guests JO, JOLLY, and AMY sit in the cleanest, classiest, brightest doublewide in town. JOSH GROBAN'S "NOEL" plays in the background. The women are all in their late-30s to late-40s and well turned out. A careful observer might notice they're all wearing the same RACHEL PALLY SWING TURTLENECK AND SAILOR PANTS. The truly observant might see the matching UGG BOOTS and TOYWATCH CRYSTAL WATCHES. That observer would be very much like these women if she knew the significance of that.

JO

These cookies are fantastic, Maybelle.

MAYBELLE

Thanks, Jo. I found the recipe in last month's "O" and just whipped them up in my KitchenAid Artisan Mixer.

JOLLY

The cookies are good, but this sorbetto is to die for. Ciao Bella?

MAYBELLE

Of course! Is there any other?

The ladies all laugh. Amy picks up a dog-eared book. It's a copy of KEN FOLLET'S "THE PILLARS OF THE EARTH". She flips through it.

AMY

Jack's dreamy.

The ladies all sigh.

MAYBELLE

Oh, oh! It's time!

Maybelle picks up a remote and mutes the music. She turns up the TV. OPRAH'S THEME MUSIC plays. Jolly mans a SONY NOTEBOOK. Jo and Amy have pencils, paper, and BLACKBERRIES ready.

OPRAH (O.S.)

These are my favorite things...with a twist! Today, we're going to learn how to have the thriftiest holiday ever!

MAYBELLE

Uh-oh...

OPRAH (O.S.)

In a time of such economic trouble and uncertainty, I can't in good conscience give away lavish gifts. Instead I'm going to show you some do-it-yourself gift ideas for the holidays.

Jo's cellphone rings. She answers and immediately pulls the phone from her ear. We hear...

STEFFI (O.S.)

There's nothing under my goddamn seat! No gift basket! Nothing here!

(muted, to someone at her location)

No! No, I will NOT calm down! I didn't ride 13 hours on a Greyhound bus for macaroni frames and hugs!

Sounds of a scuffle, coming through the phone and the TV. Then silence. Maybelle turns off the TV.

AMY

"Gratitude boxes?"

JOLLY

Great. What am I supposed to wear for the next year? This turtleneck?

JO

I love you guys.

MAYBELLE

Can it, Jo.

JO

No, I mean it. If Oprah thinks we should cut back, maybe we should. I'm still paying off my Dell 30" Wide-Screen LCD TV.

JOLLY

That was from 2004!

JO

I know. Ricky had to take an extra shift just to keep us from losing the Taurus.

AMY

I hate Scrabble!

JOLLY

I don't understand you guys. Just because Oprah says we should cut back, you're going to cut back? That makes no sense. I mean, if she told you to buy something useless, would you?

MAYBELLE

You watch a lot of shows on that LG HDTV refrigerator at your place?

JOLLY

Sometimes!

JO

Look, I can't keep up anymore. I think Oprah's right. This year, I'm giving out handmade gifts.

AMY

Me too.

MAYBELLE

So am I. Jolly?

JOLLY

Alright. Fine. Let's put something else on. I don't feel like talking much right now.

Maybelle picks up the remote and clicks away. She stops and we hear...

ANNOUNCER (O.S.)

Doors open at midnight Thursday with low-low prices throughout the store. Don't be late for the After Thanksgiving Sales Event at Wal-Mart!

The women look lustfully at the TV, and then each other.

MAYBELLE

I'll bring the coffee. Amy, bring lawn chairs.

BLACKOUT:

Friday Night Sketch War: Horrible Holidays Edition

The battle continues apace; tonight we're joined by a new warrior. Fresh-faced and unscathed from previous battles, will Peter Rogers kill or cower, fight or flee?

This week's theme is brought to us by one of our legion of fans: horrible family holidays.

• Coyote - just like Han damn it! - shot first, with flaming egg rolls of doom...
• Ken takes us back to the second Thanksgiving and pelts us with maize on the cob...
• Peter picks a peck of pickled puppeteers to swing their marionettes of doom!
  

Next week, in honor of the orgy of food and retail shopping, the theme will be...Oprah!!!

If you want to play along, write a sketch and send a link to it to sketchwar at dreamloom.com. And be sure to come back on Friday for fun, fun, fun!

FSW: Chinatown Christmas

Blogging buddy @tjonsek suggested this week's theme in comments: horrible family holidays. I didn't have to reach too deep into my bag of painful, poorly suppressed memories to pull this sketch out. Still rubs me raw.

You know of course that comedy often requires painting in broad strokes and exaggerating. Comedy in real life is much more subtle because people aren't caricatures. That's good, right? I mean, it would *suck* if there were actually people like these in the real world. Can you imagine actually having a mother like Miriam? Can you imagine the psychic damage that would do? Can you imagine how twisted that would make someone?

Come back later for a recap with links to the other sketches and information on submitting for next week. And if you've got a theme you'd like to see us try out for next week, leave it in comments here, or on one of the other blogs when their sketches are up.

Chinatown Christmas

INT. CAR - DAY

The rain is pouring from the leaden sky in buckets on an unseasonably warm Christmas day. NOAH, late 20s, attentively pilots a sturdy SUV through heavy New York traffic. His father GERRY, 50s and balding, rides shotgun offering "helpful" tips. In the back sit MIRIAM, the matriarch of the ROSEN clan, looking older and feebler than her mid-50s warrant, HANNAH, Noah's college-age sister, and in the middle, BECKY. With her perky nose, blond hair, and blue eyes, Noah's fiancee looks as out of place as a slice of ham between two pieces of marble rye.

MIRIAM

Hop Kee is good. You liked Hop Kee last time, right Gerry?

GERRY

That's the one with the Hot and Sour I like--

MIRIAM

--No. That's Congee. Hop Kee's the one where the hostess always gives you the extra shrimp roll, like I'm not supposed to know she's flirting?

NOAH

Ma, we're going to Wo Hop, right?

MIRIAM

Yeah, yeah. I was just saying, Hop Kee's good too. You should ever decide to come back and visit, we could go there, nu? It's just down the street.

NOAH

Ma, we're visiting right now.

Miriam pats Becky on the knee.

MIRIAM

And we're so glad the two of you are here. Aren't we glad, Gerry?

GERRY

Yeah, sure.

(on traffic)

You want the right lane. It's clearer. You can get around two, maybe three of these

(yelling, as though the other drivers can hear)

slowpokes!

Noah moves aggressively to the right and accelerates. He is his father's son.

BECKY

Hannah. What are you taking next semester?

HANNAH

Sight and Sound Studio and Documentary, the Femme Fatale in the films of Roman Polanski, and Spanish.

GERRY

My little baby's going to be a big filmmaker someday.

HANNAH

Dad...

GERRY

Going to walk down that red carpet.

HANNAH

Dad...

MIRIAM

Muriel Goldstein's boy wanted to be in pictures. But he's still waiting tables, waiting to be a star. Breaks poor Muriel's heart. He could have gone to Columbia Medical School, but that wasn't good enough for him.

NOAH

Barry Goldstein failed high school biology. Three times.

MIRIAM

I'm just saying--

HANNAH

--You're just saying I'm going to fail, aren't you ma?

MIRIAM

Of course not, dear. I just think you could get a law degree first, and then try with your moviemaking. Is it too much to ask that one of my babies doesn't go hungry?

NOAH

Ma! I'm not going hungry. I'm doing just fine.

GERRY

(on traffic)

You're taking the Cross Island?

NOAH

Yeah, that's the way I always go.

GERRY

Well, that's a fine way, I guess, but the Van Wyck's faster. But you're driving. Don't mind me.

(beat)

The middle lane's open.

MIRIAM

Becky!

Becky jumps. Her attempt to become invisible failed.

BECKY

Yes, ma'am?

MIRIAM

Don't call me ma'am, dear. Just call me Miriam. Or mom. Is it too soon for that?

BECKY

No, ma'am. I mean Miriam. I mean...

GERRY

You're spooking the poor girl, Miriam.

MIRIAM

What? I just told her to call me 'mom'. I'm welcoming. Who's spooking?

HANNAH

You are. I don't even want to call you 'mom' most of the time.

GERRY

The turn for the Van Wyck is coming up if you change your mind.

BECKY

How much longer?

EXT. STREET - DAY

The buckets of rain have turned to barrelfuls. Gerry, Miriam, and Hannah stand under Gerry's huge umbrella, trying to stay dry, as they talk to Noah through the window.

GERRY

You know where the garage is, right? Two blocks down and one over. You sure you don't want me to park it?

NOAH

No, that's alright. You three go in and get us a table. Becky and I will be back in a few.

GERRY

You want the umbrella, at least?

NOAH

Uh, it looks like it's clearing up.

Lightning splits the sky.

INT. CAR - DAY

Noah rolls up the window and pulls from the curb.

NOAH

I figured you could use a few minutes to catch your breath before dinner.

BECKY

Thanks. How do you do it?

NOAH

What?

BECKY

Not be crazy?

INT. RESTAURANT LOBBY - DAY

There's a small crowd at the front desk. Miriam pushes her way to the front.

MIRIAM

Excuse me? Excuse me?! Can we get some help, please?

HOSTESS

How many?

MIRIAM

Excuse me?

HOSTESS

How many in your party?

MIRIAM

Five.

HOSTESS

20 minutes.

Miriam ponders for a second and then...

MIRIAM

Come on. Let's go to Hop Kee.

HANNAH

But Noah and Becky are expecting us to be here.

MIRIAM

We talked about both. He's a smart boy. He'll figure it out.

INT. RESTAURANT - DAY

Hop Kee. Noah and Becky are soaked through. Miriam, Gerry, and Hannah sit in front of many plates of demolished food.

NOAH

I thought we were meeting at Wo Hop?

MIRIAM

We talked about both, nu?

BLACKOUT:

Friday Night Sketch War: Autumn Edition

A two-man grapple in Sketch Stadium this week, as Coyote challenges Ken. Last week's secret ingredient was autumn. In Battle Autumn, whose cuisine sketch reigns supreme?!

• Coyote takes a ride in the country. The country of death...
• Ken examines the short, sharp, brutal lives of those in their golden years.

Next week's theme, provided in comments by @tjonsek, is horrible family holidays.

If you want to play along, write a sketch and send a link to it to sketchwar at dreamloom.com. And be sure to come back on Friday for fun, fun fun. 

FSW: Leafer's Paradise

Autumn. A wide open theme. Could have gone so many ways, that I expect we'll get some nice variation this week. Let's hope so! Come back later for a recap with links to the other sketches and information on submitting for next week.

And if you've got a theme you'd like to see us try out for next week, leave it in comments here, or on one of the other blogs when their sketches are up.

Leafer's Paradise

EXT. RURAL ROAD - DUSK

A lone luxury sedan drives over rolling hills in the golden sunset, the millions of brightly colored autumn leaves glowing in shades of red and orange. Perfect foliage.

VANESSA (V.O.)

Oh, Marcus! It's beautiful. You were right, this was the perfect weekend to drive up. Sorry I doubted you.

MARCUS (V.O.)

No worries, babe. I checked the almanac, the National Weather Service, and had the boys in accounting run some numbers based on the last 20 years, factoring in warming trends. I knew this would be the peak weekend.

VANESSA (V.O.)

I just wish we could have skipped work and had an extra day. But anyway, this place I booked should be perfect. The Double-A Guide gave it three coffee cups.

MARCUS (V.O.)

You mean the Triple-A Guide.

VANESSA (V.O.)

Uh-oh.

INT. HOTEL LOBBY - NIGHT

RUPERT and MAGGIE stand behind the desk. He's in his 50s, balding, and looking rumpled-casual in a button-down shirt. She's in her 30s and crisply turned out. The door opens and MARCUS and VANESSA stroll in with too many bags for a weekend trip. He and she are both in their 30s, decked out in the flannel, cashmere, and special boots they bought just for this weekend.

MAGGIE

Good evening, and welcome to Hearth House. Are we the Pithbottoms?

VANESSA

Yes, we are. I'm Vanessa and this is Marcus. Your inn is beautiful, really.

Maggie taps at her computer.

MAGGIE

Thank you. Let's see, we have you for three nights, checking out Sunday morning, and you wanted to do two of our foliage tours, one tomorrow and then the special Leaves & Lakes Tour on Saturday. How fun!

RUPERT

Will you be dining in the restaurant this evening?

MARCUS

Honey?

VANESSA

Sure. Sounds good.

(to Marcus)

Doesn't he look like Bob Newhart? You think he's like him?

(to Rupert)

Aren't you chilly? Maybe you should put on a cardigan?

Rupert gets this a LOT. He rolls his eyes and gives the couple a withering look.

MARCUS

Yes, yes! Now I see it.

RUPERT

Maybe later, ma'am. Right now, let's just get you two finished with check-in.

Maggie taps a bit more, Rupert shuffles some papers.

MARCUS

(to Vanessa)

Doesn't she remind you of that Gilman Girl?

VANESSA

(to Marcus)

Who's that?

MARCUS

You know, Laura Gilman, from that show you like?

VANESSA

Oh you mean--

MAGGIE

--Okay, we're almost done. Will you be keeping this on your American Express?

MARCUS

Actually, I'd like to put it on this Visa, instead.

Vanessa looks at Marcus questioningly while he hands his card to Maggie.

MARCUS (CONT'D)

(to Vanessa)

Double miles.

The wind outside kicks up. Rupert and Maggie look at each other and hurry up the process. She drops the card in her haste and both get looks of abject terror at the delay. The wind picks up more. Just as Maggie runs the card through the reader, the front door FLIES open and a mass of dead leaves blow into the lobby, propelled by a whipping wind.

MAGGIE

If I could just get you to sign here?

Maggie and Rupert look at each other with a mixture of relief and amused resignation.

VANESSA

Wow, that was some wind. Hope it doesn't effect the leaves too much.

EXT. RURAL ROAD - DAY

A van drives through a vast wasteland. I mean, like Tunguska AFTER the event. Dead, gnarly trees as far as the eye can see beneath a leaden sky. Swirling piles of leaves gather in little eddies.

TOUR GUIDE (V.O.)

On the right, you'll see a stand of Vermont maples, renown for their beautiful, deep red leaves in autumn.

BLACKOUT

FSW: Extremes Attraction

Reconciliation. This week, I read about the woman on the Texas School Board who thinks Barack Obama is going to open the doors for terrorists. And I saw all three anti-gay amendments pass in state elections, presumably because hearing the word 'gay' might make innocent people turn gay. RedState has begun its Operation Leper, so they might throw out all the reasonable voices in the GOP and turn it into a teeny-tiny echo chamber of Sarah Palin and her ilk (and her elk, presumably.)

And let's not forget that the President-Elect is a Marxist/Islamist/Radical Black Christian and Dick Cheney planned 9/11. There are crazies all around. Enough crazies to fill a small city (although the right-wing half of them would rather stay in small towns.)

So I give you this. It's rough. It needs many, many revisions. And I did NOT pick the craziest of the crazies. But I think it's not so terrible. Let me know what you think.

Come back later tonight/this weekend for my on-time wrapup. I'll have links to the other sketches then. But for now, please enjoy mine. And comment! Comment! Comment!

Extremes Attraction

INT. SPACESHIP PASSAGEWAY - PERMANENT NIGHT

Curved plasteel walls stretch into the distance. The thrum of the Keeslar-Morales drive is just audible. With a WHOOSH, a door slides open and SUB-COMMANDANT BILL O'REILLY enters in his skin-tight utility uniform. He is followed by ARCH-LIEUTENANT MICHELLE MALKIN, sashaying in her skin-tight utilities, unzipped provocatively, exposing cleavage.

MALKIN

Sub-commandant! You can't let them on the ship, they'll infect us all!

O'REILLY

It's a risk we've got to take!

INT. SPACESHIP TRANSPORTER ROOM - PERMANENT NIGHT

CHIEF RUSH LIMBAUGH tests the limits of his kevlar-spandex uniform standing at a control panel.

O'REILLY

Bring them over, Limby.

LIMBAUGH

Aye, Sub-commandant.

Limbaugh pushes buttons, turns dials, and slides a lever. Twinkling lights and tinkling chimes fill the room and three forms take shape. KEITH-O in a custom tailored suit, JANEANE in hemp clothing cut like potato sacks, and AL FRANKEN in tweed appear.

MALKIN

Look out! She's got a gun under her burka!

TWO SECURITY OFFICERS appear out of the corners and tackle Janeane.

MALKIN (CONT'D)

Good job! She was--

SECURITY OFFICER #1

It's just a hooka, sir.

MALKIN

That's just as bad! She was going to make all our children smoke

(whispering)

mar-ee-wan-ah.

LIMBAUGH

You'd better let me search her. No telling what other drugs she may be carrying.

O'REILLY

Belay yourself, Chief! Doctor Phil tells me you've been spending quite enough time in sickbay.

(beat)

I'm Sub-commandant O'Reilly of the Earthship John Wayne. Welcome aboard.

KEITH-O

You're a terrible person, O'Reilly. Truly. The. Worst. Person.

MALKIN

Maybe we shouldn't have responded to your distress signal then!

Janeane and the security guards get up and she gives each of them a little baggie.

JANEANE

We responded to yours, you bimbo!

MALKIN

Don't be rid--

O'REILLY

--Can it, Michelle! It was our distress signal. I told you that.

MALKIN

But you told me--

O'REILLY

You have anyone like this?

AL FRANKEN

(sighs)

We've got Sharpton.

O'REILLY

I'm actually truly sorry.

(beat)

Okay, here's the problem, our jump drive computers are fried.

KEITH-O

Don't you have a backup?

O'REILLY

The backup computers are all infected with a virus. Our morale officer, Bennett, installed poker on all of them, but the software was a Trojan Horse. We're practically drifting. All we've got is our Hadron drives for maneuvering. We're stuck sub-light.

LIMBAUGH

We've only got six months supply in the mess!

AL FRANKEN

(looks at Limbaugh)

I'd guess only three.

JANEANE

What do you want from us, O'Reilly?

O'REILLY

Can you send over your Systems Officer to assist with a complete overhaul of our network? Ours isn't up to the task.

AL FRANKEN

Why's that?

O'REILLY

No one properly vetted Ensign Palin. Apparently MIT was not one of the many schools she attended.

KEITH-O

We'd like to help, we honestly would--.

MALKIN

But you won't right? Typical. You elites just want to take and take from the hard-working people and--

KEITH-O

--but we don't have a Systems Officer, per se.

O'REILLY

What do you mean?

JANEANE

We don't have ranks or titles. Everyone just pitches in on the Gaia. From each according to his abilities...

AL FRANKEN, JANEANE, KEITH-O

...to each according to his needs.

JANEANE

It works pretty well, other than all those course corrections. Someday it would be nice to reach a planet.

O'REILLY

You need to have a clearly defined chain of command.

AL FRANKEN

We don't really believe in that. That's why it took us an hour to come over. We had to get the crew together and debate who should come. Then we had to debate whether to bring the talking stick or leave it back on the Gaia.

MALKIN

(under breath)

Gay-uh is right.

Limbaugh snickers like a schoolboy and minces in the background for Malkin's benefit.

AL FRANKEN

I guess we could ask around and see if anyone's got any experience with this sort of problem.

INT. SPACESHIP CONFERENCE ROOM - PERMANENT NIGHT

O'Reilly, Malkin, and the three from the ESS Gaia are joined by JOSEPHINE JONZZ, mid-20s and transgendered, wearing a skimpy dress and JOE WURLZ, late 30s and bald, wearing a gray jumpsuit. O'Reilly frequently leers at JOSEPHINE.

MALKIN

Do you have a lot of experience with computer systems?

JOSEPHINE

Nah, not really. Sometimes I'd cash out customers at the salon, but I'd usually make a mistake and the owner'd have to come help.

AL FRANKEN

It was her or Steve Jobs. Even I don't hate you enough to do that.

MALKIN

Joe, why don't you take him/her/it down to the computer core.

JOE

No.

O'REILLY

Are you disobeying a direct order, mister?

JOE

Sub-commandant, arch-lieutenant...all due respect, but I can't work with *that*. Back when I was a Telephone Sanitizer I wouldn't even have cleaned its phone. Just spit on it when it wasn't looking.

JOSEPHINE

Hey, that's not nice!

O'REILLY

(leering again)

No, it's not nice Ms. Jonzz.

JOSEPHINE

Josie. You can call me Josie.

O'REILLY

And you can call me Papa Bear.

MALKIN

Oh, get a room! We're spinning out of control here.

A communicator on the table dings and Malkin presses a button.

MALKIN

Go ahead.

TECH (FILTER)

Arch-lieutenant, the Gaia has docked with us!

MALKIN

You see! I told you they were going to come over here and kill us all and introduce Sharia and make us get gay married and take away our guns!!!

AL FRANKEN

All at once? How would...never mind.

JANEANE

It must be hard to be you.

O'REILLY

What's the meaning of this, Franken?!

AL FRANKEN

I have no idea. We never discussed docking.

TECH (FILTER)

It appears that our computer systems are back online. They've networked with the Gaia's. There's--

A hologram - much like the CNN hologram - shimmers into view. BARACK OBAMA and JOHN MCCAIN stand arm-in-arm.

OBAMA

We hope you're all enjoying your accomodations.

MCCAIN

Is Sarah doing well, I hope?

OBAMA

You might wonder why we've brought you all together.

MALKIN

You had nothing to do with it! We take personal responsibility for our actions!

OBAMA

(laughs)

Yes, of course you do, Michelle. Anyway, we brought your ships together so we could say goodbye one last time.

AL FRANKEN

What? I don't understand! I supported you!

OBAMA

Yes Al, thank you for that. I know you did. But America needs to come together now, and voices like yours are part of the old, divisive ways.

MCCAIN

We don't have the time or room for any more of the extremes to be tearing the middle apart.

KEITH-O

And Senator McCain, sir, do you believe you are in the middle? You are not, sir.

MCCAIN

What can I say? I'm a maverick. Always bouncing around. I woke up and realized America needs to move forward, not rightward or leftward.

O'REILLY

So the world we were supposed to be colonizing? The one filled with willing slaves?

MCCAIN

That was a lie to get you on the John Wayne.

JANEANE

And the one we were going to, with universal healthcare and legalized pot and no corporations conspiring against us? That was a lie, too?

OBAMA

"Lie" is such an ugly word, Janeane. Let's just say it was a campaign promise that didn't come true.

MCCAIN

Your ships are now in a decaying orbit around the sun. You have another day before the boys in NASA say the heat will be too much and the hull will vaporize.

MALKIN

I thought we were hundreds of light years away!

OBAMA

Well, Michelle, perhaps if you had paid a little more attention in your science classes and not believed every silly anti-scientific fantasy that crossed before you, you would know that isn't possible. And now we'd like to say our goodbyes. Have a pleasant journey and know that your sacrifice is going to make America and the world a better place.

The hologram cuts out. Silence. The thrum of what clearly are NOT Keeslar-Morales drives is audible.

Joe the Phone Sanitizer looks at Janeane.

JOE

You wanna?

JANEANE

Sure.

Joe and Janeane leave with lust and despair in their eyes. Al Franken nods to Keith-O and Michelle Malkin.

AL FRANKEN

Not much time left. Whatdya think?

The three of them leave the room. Michelle looks like a schoolgirl, giddy with the knowledge that she can drop the act.

O'REILLY

(To Josephine)

Right here on the table works for me.

BLACKOUT

Friday Night Sketch War: Trick of Treat Edition

Again, I've *got* to pick up the pace with these wrapups. Soon, I'll be posting them five minutes before sticking up my last-minute entries for the following week. But it's here, so let's take a look-see.

• Ken - to whom we owe the theme - came out of the gate first with a party that might be getting a bit out of hand, at least for middle America...
• David broke tradition and shot back with a short story. And it's not funny. But day-AM if it isn't really good and y'all should go read it...
• Coyote ended the battle with his final campaign-oriented sketch of the year (he hopes) about what you might expect to receive if you went trick-or-treating in Campaign Corners.

Again we asked our legion of fans to leave comments on our sites with theme suggestions for this week. Again our legion of fans let us down. We'd be upset, but we do so love you. So our mothers *will* be continuing to pay your mothers to be nice to us for at least one more week. So this week's theme, in honor of the mood of the day, is reconciliation.

If you want to play along, write a sketch and send a link to it to sketchwar at dreamloom.com. And be sure to come back on Friday for fun, fun fun.

FSW: Tricks, Lots of Tricks

Er, uh. Ken came up with this week's topic when our readers failed to offer up even one suggestion. But you know what? I'm going to try again. So if you read the sketches but aren't going to compete, comment here, or on one of the competitor blogs, with your idea for what the theme should be. I'll pick my favorite and we'll run with that. If we get no suggestions (or if we fear the suggestions we get) the honors will fall to me this time. And if you want to compete, email a link to your sketch to sketchwar at dreamloom.com.

This week I had a lot of trouble. Couldn't come up with a thing. Until tonight. So I'm cutting it under the wire, and I wish I could give this a polish, but I actually think it's a pretty cute one. Though again I'm writing kids. Not sure what that's about. Anyway, hope y'all enjoy. And please, please, please: comment. And pass links along to your friends, countrymen, social networking sites, Roman bath house buddies, whatever.

Tricks, Lots of Tricks

EXT. SIDEWALK - DUSK

Four KIDS, 8-10 years old and in costume, gather under the darkening sky. By costume, there are SPIDERMAN, GHOST, BALLERINA, DINOSAUR.

SPIDERMAN

What did you get?

GHOST

Two Obama-Biden bumper stickers and this paper.

(Beat)

'Tortious Acts as a Basis for Jurisdiction in Products Liability Cases: A Completely Original Look'

DINOSAUR

Which house?

GHOST

The one with the guy dressed up like a Ken doll. Fake hair, face all plastic-y.

BALLERINA

He always looks like that. My mom says some people need to let nature take its course.

DINOSAUR

I got a butterscotch from that old guy who sits in his rocking chair on his porch all the time.

GHOST

Oh, the blue house.

DINOSAUR

No, I tried there but the lights were off.

GHOST

The red house?

DINOSAUR

Off.

GHOST

Then--

DINOSAUR

--He was in the yellow house.

BALLERINA

The one with the pretty red door. I like that house.

DINOSAUR

No, the other yellow house. I think he was running from house to house trying to hide, but he wasn't too fast. I caught him at the sixth house.

SPIDERMAN

Good. That house on the hill creeps me out.

(Opening sack wide)

Well, my bag's full!

DINOSAUR

No way! That's good stuff, too! Where?

SPIDERMAN

The shack on the corner.

BALLERINA

Who lives there?

SPIDERMAN

That loud lady who's always standing outside the Whole Foods with the clipboard. But I don't know if you guys should go there. My hand's real sore now.

(Beat)

She wouldn't give me any candy unless I signed a whole bunch of cards. She didn't care what name I used, but said if I signed fifty of 'em I could fill my bag up with all the candy I could carry.

BALLERINA

(Showing bag)

I got a bunch, too.

GHOST

That's pretty good Where?

BALLERINA

The house with the basketball hoop out front. But I don't think he's really got any candy.

DINOSAUR

What do you mean?

BALLERINA

I got to the door the same time as Joey Hanson. He had a lot more candy than me. The guy answered the door and said that wasn't fair and made him give me half his candy. Joey ran home crying.

DINOSAUR

Let's go try that house.

The kids walk one house over and up to the door. String lights, multiple pumpkins, and other decorations adorn the yard and porch. Spiderman rings the bell. The doorbell plays Dixie. It opens and a woman dressed as the Bride of Frankenstein - with rimless glasses - answers.

BRIDE

Hey there, you kids! Happy Halloween!

KIDS

Trick or Treat! Give us something good to eat!

BRIDE

Oh, you betcha!

The Bride reaches into a bowl and pulls out four wrapped items, one for each.

BRIDE (CONT'D)

Here you go! Now don't get into any trouble!

The Bride closes the door as the kids skip off the porch. Spiderman checks his bag.

SPIDERMAN

Eww! Homemade moose jerky!

BALLERINA

Hey, isn't that your brother over there?

GHOST

Where?

BALLERINA

(Points to distance)

There.

GHOST

He's not supposed to go over there. He's going to get in trouble. Mom said to stay out of Russia!

BLACKOUT

Friday Night Sketch War: Mad Scientist Edition

Coming a wee bit late with this wrapup, but I held out hope that Mr. Brownlee was going to get a late shot off in the battle by Monday. Alas, the originator of last Friday's excellent theme was too bloodied from his week in the paper cut factory. But we did have a good fight. Three funny sketches were lobbed onto the field, each exploding with mad scientifical goodness.

• Coyote led off with death rays and scallions...
• Ken followed up with an eerie tale of spousal zombification...
• David closed out the battle by showing us the evility of banal.

An extreme dearth of comments from our combined visitors left us scrambling for a theme for this All Hallow's Eve edition of the Sketch War. See, we wanted our three or four fans to pick themes and y'all let us down. I have a good mind to tell *our* mothers to stop paying *your* mothers to come read our sketches! Nah. Who am I kidding: the checks will continue.

Anyway, Ken's selected an appropos theme:
Trick OR Treat: an option; scenes involve a trick, a treat, or both.

If you want to play along, write a sketch and send a link to it to sketchwar at dreamloom.com. Otherwise, come back around on Friday for some ghoulish fun.

FSW: Dinner at Doctor Eskatos'

Let's have a little change of pace for next week. If you read the sketches but aren't going to compete, comment here with your idea for what the theme should be. I'll pick my favorite and we'll run with that. If we get no suggestions (or if we fear the suggestions we get) the honors will fall to Ken. And if you want to compete, email a link to your sketch to sketchwar at dreamloom.com.

But that's next week. This week's theme, Mad Scientist, was selected by Michael. Of course, I was going to give you a beautiful musical about a misunderstood mad scientist in love with a sweet girl, but that bastard Whedon stole my idea from me! He'll be hearing from my lawyers! Instead, I give you...

FSW: Dinner at Doctor Eskatos'

INT. CAR - NIGHT

CURT, late 20s in sport coat and oxford, drives. Beside him is his wife PAM, late 20s and fashionably dressed. Her sister GINNY, mid-30s on the verge of old-maid hood, sits in back with her hands clasped on her lap.

PAM

How much further?

CURT

It's right up ahead

PAM

You weren't kidding when you said he lived outside city limits.

CURT

He likes his space, I guess. How are you doing back there, Ginny? You've been awfully quiet.

GINNY

Hmm? Oh, I'm good. Just working through some tensor products.

Pam rolls her eyes. Curt turns to her befuddled.

PAM

Ginny does linear algebra in her head when she's nervous.

GINNY

I'm not nervous.

CURT

I flunked pre-algebra twice.

(beat)

We're here.

Curt stops the car and the three get out. They walk up to the front door or a neat, well-kept bungalow. As soon as Curt presses the bell, the door opens, revealing IVAR, a short, slightly hunchbacked nebbish.

IVAR

Master is expecting you. Come in.

INT. BUNGALOW - NIGHT - CONTINUOUS

The guests enter the cozy home and Ivar closes the door behind them. He points them to the living room where DOCTOR ESKATOS - 40s, lean, unruly cloud of hair, wearing a long white lab coat - sits perfectly upright. His body carves out exact 90-degree angles in his floral couch. Matching the couch, the decor of the house is early-grandmother.

IVAR

Master, your guests.

ESKATOS

Yes, yes, Ivar. I can see that. Please go see to our meal.

Ivar exits through a swinging door to the kitchen. Eskatos rises and crosses to the visitors. He extends his hand to Curt.

ESKATOS

Curt, I'm so glad you could make it.

CURT

Thanks, Doctor Eskatos. I was honored you asked. This is my wife, Pam.

ESKATOS

(shaking hands)

Pam, nice to meet you. Your husband speaks very highly of you.

PAM

Thank you. He says...things about you, too. This is--

ESKATOS

--Your sister Ginny, I presume.

Eskatos clasps Ginny's hand and shakes it too hard and too long. But Ginny doesn't seem to notice. He lets go and gestures to sit. The door to the kitchen swings open and a tray of drinks enters the room, carried by IGOR, who looks exactly like his brother. The drinks are proffered.

CURT

Oh, that's perfect. I'm parched. Thanks, Ivar.

IGOR

Igor.

CURT

I thought your name was Ivar?

IGOR

Igor.

Igor turns to Eskatos and spills the last drink on him.

ESKATOS

Clumsy oaf!

IGOR

I'm sorry, master. Let me get you another!

Igor rushes out of the room leaving Eskatos to clean himself up.

PAM

He seems a little...

(whispering)

is there something wrong with him?

ESKATOS

(yelling)

His mother was a scallion!

GINNY

Scullion.

ESKATOS

What?

GINNY

Scullion. You said 'scallion', but you meant 'scullion'. I'm something of a wordy.

Curt and Pam look at each other, horrified.

ESKATOS

I said what I meant. His mother was a scallion. He and his brothers were some of my first experiments with human-vegetable hybrids.

The door swings open. Igor rushes back with a towel and another drink.

ESKATOS (CONT'D)

(dripping with disdain)

As you can see, the experiment was not a success.

The door swings open again and the third brother, BRYCE, enters with a cheese plate.

BRYCE

Master, we were out of the crackers you like, so I toasted some bagel chips.

ESKATOS

Yes. Fine. Whatever, Bryce. Leave us! Both of you!

Bryce and Igor scurry out. The door swings open again and Ivar starts to walk in, but his brothers' hands grab him and pull him back into the kitchen.

PAM

Doctor Eskatos, Ginny is working on her PhD, too.

ESKATOS

Oh really? That's fascinating. What is your field of interest?

GINNY

High energy physics.

ESKATOS

Fascinating.

PAM

Maybe Doctor Eskatos would like to hear about your thesis.

GINNY

Oh, I don't want to bore him with that.

ESKATOS

Nonsense! I'd love to hear about it.

The door swings open again. Ivar (or maybe one of his brothers, who can be sure?) sidles in and takes the untouched cheese plate. He also picks up the unfinished drinks and carries them out on a tray.

ESKATOS (CONT'D)

It's so difficult to grow good help these days. I should have used cauliflower. How much better things would be had I used cauliflower.

The door swings open again and two of the brothers try to walk through at the same time, jamming against the jamb. Finally, they figure out how to enter. Igor carries another tray of drinks.

BRYCE

Master, the lamb will be ready in 30 minutes.

Igor spills the drinks on Eskatos again.

ESKATOS

Aaargh! You imbecile! I should have chopped your mother up for garnish before you were ever born!

IGOR

Master, I'm sorry. Let me help you.

ESKATOS

You've done more than enough!

Eskatos takes out a PDA and taps it for a moment. There is a bright flash of light and a puff of smoke appears as Igor screams in pain and runs around the room. He is singed and smoking. Bryce runs to the kitchen. Curt and Pam stare in shock.

CURT

What was that?

ESKATOS

This? Death ray.

PAM

He's not dead.

CURT

(to Pam)

Pam, let's not upset the doctor, please.

ESKATOS

No Curt, she's right. He's not dead. Not even a little.

Igor, the top of his head stil smoking, grabs a drink and douses the embers.

ESKATOS (CONT'D)

Like all my other inventions, my orbital death ray is a failure.

CURT

Orbital?

ESKATOS

Yes. I have a series of satellites in polar orbit. I can target any location on the planet. But to what end? Look at that! Death ray, indeed.

GINNY

Microwaves?

ESKATOS

Of course.

GINNY

Have you considered crossing unsynched beams with tachyon pulses to set up--

ESKATOS

--To set up Frakes-Francis interference! Of course! How did I not think of it before. Igor!

The door swings open. Igor resists entering, but his brothers' hands shove him back into the room.

IGOR

Yes, master?

ESKATOS

Bring me the lamb!

IGOR

But master, it is not finished yet.

ESKATOS

And I plan to remedy that.

Igor exits as Eskatos takes his PDA and frantically taps.

CURT

This is fun, huh?

Igor returns with the lamb on a platter. He looks nervous as he sets it down on the table and takes several steps away from it. Eskatos points the PDA at the lamb and taps it once. A bright flash, a puff of smoke, and Igor is gone.

ESKATOS

Huh. Must not have accounted for the Wheaton drift. I never was any good at linear algebra.

BLACKOUT

FSW: Best Friends

Ever so sorry to have come up with this idjotic theme. Sadly, *this* was probably the best effort I was going to be able to produce. I went back to the well, sort of, and then let the spirit of Our Gang take over. I hope it doesn't make y'all gag.

Michael's back on the grid and has already selected next week's theme: Mad Scientist.

As usual, if you want to play along with us, email a link to your entry to sketchwar at dreamloom.com.

Best Friends

INT: CLUBHOUSE - DAY

JOHN, a stocky white boy in shorts and a too-tight button-up shirt sits at the front table. BARRY, a long lean black kid wearing a black suit, white shirt, and bow tie, sits next to his left. JOE, a skinny, nondescript white kid, sits to his right. A handful of other boys sit facing front. John bangs a gavel.

JOHN

I now bring this meeting of the He-Man Woman-Hater's Club to order. Would the secretary please read the minutes from our last meeting?

BARRY

Freddy complained that we were all talking too much during his nap time and we took a vote. 8-2 in favor of making Freddy nap up in the old tree fort with one abstention.

JOHN

Who abstained?

BARRY

Freddy. He dozed off while we were talking about it.

(Beat)

Then the defense committee reported on the treaty negotiations with Cub Scout Troupe 163. They were at an impasse over access rights to cross 13th Street to get to Gargantuan Comics.

(Beat)

And Teddy asked for our help getting his sister's doll out of Becker's stream where it sank after he crashed his bike trying to jump the old footbridge.

JOE

I still don't understand why he had the doll with him.

JOHN

Alright, let's hear from the defense committee first.

THREE BOYS stand up. They're dirty and scuffed up. One of them with a black eye, another with a fat lip. HARRY - skinny, blond, bespectacled - steps forward.

HARRY

They whipped us good. Cheaters. Tommy Monahan's sister Rosie came with 'em. We didn't stand a chance.

JOE

(Anxious)

Are you alright?

HARRY

Yeah, but when my mom catches sight of me she's gonna have a fit.

JOE

No, I mean are you alright?

Barry and John turn to each other and roll their eyes.

HARRY

Oh, oh! Yeah, heck! I forgot!

Harry turns to the other two boys, both a little younger than he, and inoculates them.

HARRY (CONT'D)

(To the first boy)

Circle, circle, dot, dot. Now you've got the cootie shot.

(and the other)

Circle, circle, dot, dot. Now you've got the cootie shot.

JOE

Harry, you'd better get yourself taken care of too before you spread 'em.

HARRY

Yeah. Billy, can you give me the shot?

BILLY gets up. He's thin, with brown hair and a drawl like sweet tea on a summer's day.

BILLY

Can do, Harry.

They leave the clubhouse.

JOE

Guys, you've gotta be more careful. We don't want another outbreak like last spring.

All the boys look up and to their left. The screen wavers and chimes play...

INT. CLASSROOM - DAY

Title: Last Spring

Barry stands in front of the class, singing. HILLARY watches with stars in her eyes.

BARRY

(Singing)

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine
You make me happy, when skies are gray
You'll never know dear, how much I love you
Please don't take my sunshine away.

John looks on with a squint. Barry returns to his desk, right next to Hillary's. John gives him the ol' stinkeye as he passes.

HILARY

Ooooh, Barry. That was dreamy!

The screen wavers and chimes play again...

INT. CLUBHOUSE - DAY

Title: Today

Everyone shakes their heads and gets out of flashback mode. Barry turns to John and extends his hand...

BARRY

Brothers forever, pal. No broad's going to come between us again.

JOHN

(Shaking hands)

And how!

The door to the clubhouse opens. The defense committee comes back in, surrounding a girl! SARAH wears her brown hair in pigtails and the cutest little glasses. She carries a bb gun. All the boys in the clubhouse go nuts!

JOHN

(Banging his gavel)

Order! Order! What's she doing in here?

HARRY

We caught her spying outside.

BARRY

Is that true?

SARAH

Oh yeah, you betcha! I wanted to see what all the fuss was about, don'tcha know, so I scurried over here quick as a jackrabbit in deer season to peek through the knot hole. You boys sure like talkin' don'tcha?

JOE

Girl! Girl!

Joe gets up and starts running around like a headless chicken...until he bounces right off a wall and falls straight on his backside to the SOUND FX of little birds chirping.

JOHN

There are no girls allowed in here, Sarah. This is the He-Man Woman-Hater's Club.

SARAH

Oh John! You get so cute when you're all flustered-like. Your cheeks get red as fresh venison and you huff and puff like a little choo-choo train! You're so cute, I could just kiss ya!

John's eyes bug out. Barry's bow tie spins around as he stands gape-jawed.

BARRY

Well, now, Sarah. As you can surely deduce from the heretofore mentioned name, we have something of a exclusion policy with regard to persons of your gender--

SARAH

--There you go again! Gettin' all uppity and high-falutin' with your private school readin' and vocab-uh-lary. Why'n't you just talk like regular folks?

JOHN

Sarah, is that an official Red Ryder carbine-action 200-shot range model BB gun with a compass in the stock?

SARAH

It sure is, cutie-pie!

BARRY

Really, I must protest. Sarah just doesn't belong here. We've still got club business to discuss.

JOHN

I could not disagree more. I think she brings a breath of fresh air to the place.

Sarah winks at John.

BARRY

Oh boy. Here we go again.

BLACKOUT

Sketch War...I'm coming, I swear!!!

Wow. I am a super-slacker! I'm going to be dead last into the fray this week. Damn sleep study messed up my whole writing schedule! Then again, considering I apparently stop breathing about 60 times per minute I should probably be happy I went to the clinic and am going to get that taken care of!

Anyway, for your comedy pleasure while you're waiting for my *brilliant* sketch, please check out

• Michael's entry...
• Ken's entry...
• David's entry

I haven't read them yet; I'm afraid I'll crib their superior ideas and try to pawn them off as my own.

FSW: Reap the Whirlwind - ***Michael's Sketch***

Okay, crazy-man Michael is taking this no Internet (other than email, because, well, c'mon!) thing seriously. He didn't post his sketch on his own blog tonight; he emailed it to me.

So, without further ado, here's Michael's sketch for this week:

Reap the Whirlwind
(The burned out remains of a once beautiful home. Matt and Erin stand, holding each other, staring at the carnage.)

Erin: I still can’t believe it.

Matt: Our whole lives.

Erin: It all happened so fast.

Matt: All my trophies.

Erin: Our wedding album.

Matt: The plasma TV.

Erin: My mother’s ashes.

Matt: Well, those are probably all right.

Erin: You think? Oh, honey, what are we going to do?

(Matt gives her a hug.)

Matt: It’s going to be all right.

Erin: The only think keeping me from completely freaking out is the knowledge that we have insurance. At least we’ll be able to build a new home.

Matt: Well...

Erin: What?

Matt: About the insurance...

Erin: Don’t tell me you forgot to pay the bill. Matthew Christopher Glover, I swear to Christ, I will-

Matt: I paid it. I paid it.

Erin: What then?

Matt: I sort of sold it to Stan.

Erin: You what?

Matt: You remember when he came over all upset because he’d just found out Kathy has ovarian cancer?

Erin: Yeah.

Matt: And how, since they didn’t have insurance they were going to have to sell everything just to pay for the treatments?

Erin: Yeah.

Matt: Well, I sort of sold him the right to our homeowner’s insurance.

Erin: You what?

Matt: I never thought our house would burn down!

Erin: How much did you sell it for?

Matt: That’s the beauty part. I got 10% interest on it.

Erin: So he paid you money, betting that the house might burn down and then he’d get to collect the insurance?

Matt: Not just him, either. Once I realized that people were willing to buy a policy against our policy I sold one to just about every guy at the office.

Erin: That’s the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard.

Matt: Wait, it’s gets better. Baby, I had fourteen different guys paying me $100 a month. Do the math. That’s extra money in our pockets.

Erin: How long have you been doing this?

Matt: Almost two whole years! That’s $36,000.

Erin: And where’s that money now?

Matt: Well, it paid for the new TV. And the new cabinets. Our trip to Branson.

Erin: And how much was the policy worth?

Matt: Pays out one million dollars.

(She just stares at him.)

Matt: What?

Erin: Do the math, asshole! That’s 14 million dollars we have to pay out!

Matt: Oh. (It really sinks in.) OH!

(Just then a car pulls up outside. Stan walks over.)

Stan: Oh my god, I’m so sorry you guys.

Matt: Hey, Stan.

Stan: I heard the sirens and saw them turn down your street and I hoped...I mean...I’m so sorry you guys.

(Another car pulls up. Ernie gets out.)

Matt: Hey, Ernie, what are you doing here?

Ernie: Stan called and told me the news. I can’t believe it.

Matt: Yeah, it’s all gone.

Ernie: What an incredible return on an investment. I mean, my wife was pretty mad when she found out I was giving you $100 a month, but after tonight I am out of the dog house!

(Another car pulls up. Jerry gets out, he’s got an open beer in his hands.)

Jerry: Jackpot!

Stan: Listen, man, not to be a douche or anything, but when do you think the claims adjuster is going to be out?

Matt: We put a call into our guy, he said he’d be right over.

Erin: Listen you guys, I don’t know what Matt promised you.

Ernie: We have contracts.

(They all pull out official looking documents.)

Erin: Be that as it may, there’s no way we can pay each of you one million dollars.

Jerry: Come on, man, I need that money. I took out a loan against this insurance so I could buy my buddy Val’s life insurance policy. He a marathoner. It’ll be years before I see any of that dough.

Ernie: Yeah, I’ve gotta pay off the guys who just installed the swimming pool in our bedroom.

Matt: You put a swimming pool in your bedroom?

Ernie: Our mortgage guy thought it would increase the value. Plus, he bet me $500 that they couldn’t do it because it was on the second floor. Sucker.

Erin: I’m sorry. But there’s no money. But, once our insurance guy gets here, we’ll settle up with him and they we’ll happily give you your money back.

Stan: I don’t know. I was counting on that million.

Jerry: Me too.

Erin: Hey, something’s better than nothing though. Right?

(They all murmur and mumble and basically agree. Just then Perry Paul peddles up on his bike. He is a rather large man and very out of shape.)

Perry: (Winded) Sorry...I wasn’t...here....sooner...Cutbacks forced me....to give up...company car...I’m Perry Paul. How can AIG help you today?

BLACKOUT

FSW: Bailout!

Okay, the funny stuff in here? The good words? Stolen from greater men than I. Or worse, stolen and munged by a degenerate just to get them to fit my nefarious needs. So, to Alan Jay Lerner, Joe Darion, and Frank Loesser, I give all my humble and feeble thanks.

Ken picked out this week's theme - bailout - and came out of the gate first with, you guessed it, a musical sketch! His is original and funny and ends with the biggest laugh I've had all week. Michael hasn't shown up yet - he's thinking about a break from the Internet for a little while - but I'm still hoping his worse angels get the better of him. And I can't believe I forgot...David returns with a sketch! It's not on-theme, but who cares?

As for next week, the theme is...best friends.

As usual, if you want to play along with us, email a link to your entry to sketchwar at dreamloom.com.

Bailout!

EXT. THEATER - NIGHT

A small crowd of bedraggled and weary souls are gathered under a marquis. Their faces are sunken but their smiles are beaming. Behind them are posters for "Bailout!"

WOMAN #1

I found a Jujube under my seat! And it was warm in there. It's been so cold.

CAMERAMAN (O.C.)

But did you enjoy the play?

WOMAN #1

It was amazing. I cried. A lot.

WOMAN #2

Best show in years.

INT. THEATER - NIGHT

Three actors dressed as SENATORS LIEBERMAN, SPECTER, and COLEMAN huddle to one side.

NARRATOR (V.O.)

Come see the smash hit everyone's talking about, "Bailout!" Winner of seven Tonys, including Best Play, Best Drama, and Best Place to Stay Warm in February. With songs you won't soon forget, like this one...

CLOSE ON SENATORS

SENATORS LIEBERMAN, SPECTER, AND COLEMAN

(singing)

The Secretary is just a Goy
Not a M.O.T., just a Goy.
To finagle and dangle and skillfully wrangle
The financial hoi polloi
The Wall Street meltdown is not
Safe in the hands of a Goy.

INT. THEATER - NIGHT

The stage is set for a Senate hearing. An actor playing LEHMAN BROTHERS CEO, RICHARD FULD sits at the witness table with his ATTORNEY. Several SENATORS sit across him at their desks.

NARRATOR (V.O.)

Or this hilarious number...

LEHMAN BROTHERS CEO, RICHARD FULD

Senators!

(singing)

Do you recall the other night that I distinctly said you might
Shore up my junk bonds and bad mortgages?
Well, I'm afraid there's someone who I must sell to in place of you
Someone who plainly is beyond compare
China's portfolio is more tremendous than I have e'er seen anywhere
And when an offer is that tremendous
It, by right, should buy up all my shares.

SENATORS

(speaking)

But Richard, let us bargain with them and beat them!
Don't refuse us so abruptly, we implore!
Give us the opportunity to outbid them
And China will be smashed upon the floor!

LEHMAN BROTHERS CEO, RICHARD FULD

You'll bash and thrash them?

SENATORS

We'll smash and mash them.

LEHMAN BROTHERS CEO, RICHARD FULD

You'll give them trouble?

SENATORS

They will be rubble.

LEHMAN BROTHERS CEO, RICHARD FULD

A mighty whack?

SENATORS

Their market will crack.

LEHMAN BROTHERS CEO, RICHARD FULD

Well...

(singing)

Then you may buy up all my shares
If you do all the things you promise
In fact, my heart would break should you not buy up all my shares.

INT. THEATER - NIGHT

A lone spot on an actor portraying SENATOR MCCAIN. He stands in front of the curtain, facing the audience.

NARRATOR (V.O.)

Or this soul-wrenching number about thwarted dreams from Tony-winner Neil Patrick Harris...

SENATOR MCCAIN

(singing)

I have dreamed thee too long,
Never seen thee or touched thee.
But known thee with all of my heart.
Half a prayer, half a song,
Thou hast always been with me,
Though we have been always apart.

Oval Office... Oval Office...
I see heaven when I see thee, Oval Office,
And thy desk is just a place
I'll never sit in... Oval Office... Oval Office!

CUT TO:

Titles. "Bailout!" in white letters on black.

NARRATOR (V.O.)

Come see "Bailout!", playing now and forever at the Winter Garden Theater. Located between the Helping Hands Soup Kitchen and the Unemployment Office.

BLACKOUT

FSW: It's the End of the World As We Know It

Michael's selection for this week was the prescient apocalypse. All too close to bearing fruit, I keep hearing hoof beats and horn blasts. I tell you, if seven brothers club seven baby seals for their seven brides, I'm stocking up on bottled water tequila.

Micheal's already come through this week with a sketch about the day after yesterday. I got chills reading this. Ken followed up with a hopeful story about tolerance, belief, and deli food. Honors for next week's theme fall to him, so be sure to check out his blog for an update to his post.

As usual, if you want to play along with us, email a link to your entry to sketchwar at dreamloom.com.

It's the End of the World As We Know It

INT. LIVING ROOM - DUSK

MARISOL, HECTOR, and BRAD wear tattered rags and sit in the decrepit remains of a once grand living room. Marisol and Hector huddle in one corner, Brad in another. The former captain of industry looks as beaten as his cook and gardener. PHOEBE throws open upstage doors and glides in wearing a short skirt, pressed blouse, and new Christian Louboutins. Her hair and makeup are immaculate. Her arms are full of bags.

PHOEBE

It's so stuffy in here! What is wrong with all of you? It was a beautiful day today, but you're all sitting right where you were when I left this morning. I bet you didn't even get up once.

BRAD

Hector got up once, to shoot a giant ant that was coming toward the house.

HECTOR

Si. I shoot between the eyes.

BRAD

Which ones? It had like, a million.

PHOEBE

And what about you? And Marisol? You just sat there? I bet you didn't even clean and dress the carcass. We haven't had fresh meat in two weeks, but you just left it on the lawn, didn't you? It's probably already gone bad.

HECTOR

No. The flying cats come and drag it to their nest.

MARISOL

They're so pretty. Why I can't have one?

PHOEBE

We've been over this before, Marisol. No dogs or killer mutant cats in the house. Mr. Finley has allergies.

MARISOL

Yes, Miss Phoebe.

PHOEBE

Come on. Come help me with the bags.

The others trudge to Phoebe and take her bags.

PHOEBE (CONT'D)

I found a few cans of pineapple juice under the bar in the Jensen's pool house. I remembered Patrick made those killer hurricanes last Memorial Day.

BRAD

Any Myers left?

PHOEBE

No. No booze. Looks like squatters got it all. But they left the fruit juice.

BRAD

Lucky us.

PHOEBE

You're damn right, lucky us! What's with all of you?

BRAD

What's with us? You're running around town like nothing's wrong, while we're here fighting off killer ants and flocks of flying cats. It's over, Phoebe! The world's over!

Marisol and Hector freeze.

PHOEBE

No, Brad. The world's not over. Your cushy life is over. Your two-martini lunches and Wednesday golf and Thursday afternoons with that tramp, Charlotte Greggson, are over. Life goes on. The world goes on.

(Beat)

Oh? You didn't think I knew about her? I knew, Brad. I! Didn't! Care!

Phoebe is steaming, but keeps it together. She crosses her arms. Hector looks in the last bag, not finding what he wants.

HECTOR

Miss Phoebe, you not bring bullets?

PHOEBE

Of course I did, Hector. Nine mills, .38s, and 12-gauge. They're right here.

Phoebe spins a little and we see the third arm jutting from the center of her back holding one last bag. Her blouse is perfectly tailored to accommodate the extra appendage.

HECTOR

Thank you ma'am.

Hector goes to Phoebe and takes the bag. As he walks away, we see he has two extra eyes on the back of his head.

PHOEBE

No problem, Hector. It's nice to see someone else around here doing his part.

(Stares at Brad)

But you really have to get out of this house more. You too, Marisol. The weather's just been perfect. It's my favorite time of year, when the lung-squid walk up the beach at night to spawn and the ocean burns just a little brighter. Both the moons are full tonight. You and Marisol should take a walk on the overlook.

MARISOL

(Fearful)

The bat-coons!

PHOEBE

Marisol, you know those are a myth. I've never heard a notion as silly as a bat-coon. Now you two go watch the mating dance of the lung-squid before the cock-a-mice come fly off with their eggs.

Marisol and Hector exit.

BRAD

That's just great. The world is burning and you're playing matchmaker.

Phoebe sashays up to Brad. She wraps her two front arms around his waist.

PHOEBE

Someone has to repopulate the world. It certainly isn't going to be us.

BRAD

It's just...you're different since you grew...that.

Phoebe flexes her third arm and strokes his face seductively

PHOEBE

This?

BRAD

No.

(Nods at crotch)

That.

BLACKOUT

FSW: Morton's Executive Search

Okay. This week's topic is job hunting. Nice and straightforward in honor of my upcoming job switch. And *clearly* we can avoid politics tonight.Michael's got the call for next week, so don't forget to read his submission when he posts it to find out what next week's topic is. And of course, because his and Ken's will be funny as hell.If you want to play along with us, email a link to your entry to sketchwar at dreamloom.com.Morton's Executive Search

INT. CONFERENCE ROOM - DAY

JANET, 30s slender and no-nonsense, enters and strides to the head of the table. She joins GARETH, 40s and tweedy, and EMILY, 20s and achingly hip.

JANET

Sorry I'm late. Dick's sister and kids are visiting. The baby cried half the night. What's on the agenda today?

GARETH

First up is a new position. I got the call right before coming in here. G.O. is in the market for a new CEO. This could be really big for us.

JANET

You're not kidding. Commission on that could run high six figures. Who've we got in the stable?

EMILY

(Shuffles a few files and reads from the first)

We've got a Columbia grad, Harvard Law, former state legislator and a few years in the Senate. He's really good in front of crowds. He'd be great calming the stockholders.

JANET

(Aghast)

You're kidding me, right? This isn't your local coffee house looking for a part-time manager for Poetry Slam Saturdays. This is one of the biggest companies in the world. Who else have we got.

Emily is chastened. Gareth grabs a file from her stack and reads.

GARETH

Alright. Someone a bit older and more seasoned. We've got an Annapolis grad, four-term Senator--

JANET

--Please! Again, let me remind you people. We're hiring for a Cee Eee Oh! Give me someone with some executive experience.

EMILY

Okay, I've got one. Two-term mayor of a small town, governor--

JANET

--Alright. Is that all you've got? Come on. G.O., people. G.O. is synonymous with high tech. They started Silicon Valley in their garage. Emily. When I say G.O., what do you think of?

EMILY

Well, I guess big-ticket high tech.

JANET

Exactly. And we need a CEO who under--

GARETH

--We don't.

JANET

We don't what?

GARETH

They told me they're looking to change. They want to get out of the large-margin business and move into consumer electronics. More sales through Wal-Mart than to Wal-Mart.

JANET

So they're looking for someone to get them out of selling to big business and into the bargain bins. I've got the perfect candidate. Checks off all the boxes. She'll swoop in - and earn us a pretty signing commission - change the corporate culture, and be out the door in five years with millions. Gareth, put together the standard golden chute package.

(Beat)

Alright, what's up next?

EMILY

Huh. Interestingly enough, I've got a coffee shop looking for a part-time manager.

JANET

Alright Mr. Harvard Law, that's you. What else?

GARETH

Kruger Industrial Smoothing needs a new senior sales rep. But I think I've got that one covered.

EMILY

The Lions have an opening for a GM. I think I've got a guy for that. He's got experience, and we can bring in him for high dollars; he's making a lot at his current job.

JANET

Is he going to be interested in moving on?

EMILY

He's got strong ties to the Detroit area, and apparently is in quite a rush to get out of New York. He's something of a

(air quotes)

"bad boy", but they love him in Motor City.

JANET

And he knows football?

EMILY

Not exactly, but he knows sports. And he's used to the pressure of being a GM.

GARETH

We should move quickly on this. Before--

JANET

--Before Detroit knows what hit 'em.

BLACKOUT

FSW: A Game of Horse

Ken suggested this week's theme - sports. He was looking to avoid the teeth gnashing of politics and "failing financial giants". Let me know how he did.

I've got the baton, so next week's theme will be...ah yes! In honor of quitting my job today (and unfortunately taking another one,) next week's theme will be job hunting. If you want to play along with us, email a link to your entry to sketchwar at dreamloom.com.

A Game of Horse
(Three young boys of 9 or 10 shoot a basketball listlessly: BARRY a tall, skinny, African-American kid, rebounds an errant shot and struts. JOE, a skinny white kid, narrates the action.)

JOE
Look, up in the sky! It's a bird...it's a plane...

BARRY
How about a game of horse?

(The last member of our trio is JOHN, a stocky white kid. He slaps the ball from Barry's hands.)

JOHN
Great idea. I'll go first.

BARRY
Don't be a dick, man.

JOE
Yeah, don't be a dick, man.

JOHN
Whatever. You want to protect the hoop? You can't even protect the ball. Okay. From here, off the backboard.

(John at the free throw line dribbles many times and lets loose a brick. Not even close. Barry leaps and retrieves.)

BARRY
(snarky) Nice shot, John.

JOE
Never before in the annals of human history has someone done so little with so much effort.

(Barry lines up at the baseline, beyond the arc. He shoots. Nothing but a ripple as the ball falls through the net. Joe rebounds and dribbles to Barry's spot.)

JOHN
Behind the line! Get behind the line!

(Joe sets up and lets fly an abomination. An uglier shot you've never seen.)

BARRY
That's 'H'. Your turn, John.

(John grabs the ball and dribbles.)

JOHN
It's not fair to shoot from back here. You know I can't raise my arms above my head!

JOE
There's no crying in basketball.

(John shoots granny-style and still misses.)

BARRY
And 'H' for you.

(Barry grabs the ball and dribbles to the top of the key.)

BARRY
Left-handed reverse layup.

(Barry dribbles left, crosses over right, drives to the hoop, powers under and lays it in silky smooth with his off hand.)

JOE
You're despicable.

(Joe grabs the ball and executes...that's not right. He dies. John tries and does even worse, tripping over his feet at the end.)

BARRY
Ho-ho-ho! That's 'H-O' for yo'!

(Barry takes the ball again and goes to the free throw line. He faces away from the hoop.)

BARRY (CONT'D)
Ai-ight. Backwards, off the backboard.

(Cocky bastard. Serves him right when he misses.)

JOE
Juuuust a bit outside!

(John grabs the ball. Out of turn. What a little punk. He goes to the free throw line again.)

JOHN
Losers buy the winner tacos!

(He shoots and banks it in.)

JOE
Do you believe in miracles???

BARRY
You didn't call bank!

JOHN
I always bank it. You know that.

BARRY
Fine.

(Barry takes the ball and shoots without looking. Cocky. I mentioned that, right? He misses.)

JOHN
Ha! That's an 'H'! Man, I love Spanish food!

BARRY
What?

JOHN
I love Spanish food. I can already taste those tacos.

BARRY
Spain's in Europe, John. Tacos are from Mexico.

JOHN
Same diff.

JOE
He only seems to lack the knowledge ladled out daily in high schools.

(A petite girl skips to courtside. She's got a BB gun with her.)

SARAH
Can I play?

JOHN
No! I told you to quit trying to hang out with us!

SARAH
Mom said you have to let me play with you.

JOHN
I don't care. Go home.
(to Joe)
Your turn.

(Joe lines up to shoot and lets the ball sail. Sarah picks it off midair and it deflates as it falls to the ground. Who'd have thought a BB gun would have that much stopping power? Sarah poses like a big girl.)

SARAH
Now can I play?

BLACKOUT