Virtual S.M.I.C.

In the interest of squeezing every last drop of comedic mileage out of my work, and prolonging as long as possible the hibernation into which I seem to have entered, and which I break from only to void my bowels or pop another enchilada into the microwave, here are all of the sketches I wrote for the S.M.I.C. show that haven't yet been posted. Some we ran, others we didn't, some are funnier than others. But I'll be damned if you won't read it and like it, you ungrateful curs.

It's like you were there, only without any human interaction or performative element!

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Closeted Brit Sketch

CHARACTERS

Sharon- a nice, peacemaker type
Craig- an angry young man
James- A closeted British man

James is standing tensely, Sharon is seated. Craig comes in with a tea service and sets it on a coffee table.

SHARON
Why don't you sit down, James?

JAMES
Oh, no thanks, I've got somewhere to be. Listen, guys, what is this all about?

CRAIG
Tea, anyone? Fresh, hot, delicious tea.

SHARON
None for me thanks.

CRAIG
James?

James sighs and smiles.

JAMES
Uh—yeah, alright. I mean, why not?

CRAIG
Great, great.

Craig stares at Sharon, who looks back at him. He arches his eyebrows and motions to James. James notices this.

JAMES
What? Guys, what is it?

CRAIG
Nothing, nothing. Say, did anyone catch Black Adder on BBC America last night? That Rowan Atkinson is something, isn't he James?

JAMES
Uh—he's all right.

CRAIG
Oh I think he's better than all right, don't you Sharon? I think he's bloody brilliant. Wouldn't you agree James? Wouldn't you say that Rowan Atkinson, Benny Hill, and Monty Python are all bloody brilliant?

JAMES
Yeah, sure, they're great. Sharon--

SHARON
James, we just need to know.

JAMES
Know what? What's gotten into you guys?

CRAIG
Nothing, James. Nothing but a delicious crumpet, love for the monarchy, and a nice stroll down from Weston Super Mare to catch the cricket match.

JAMES
Craig, I have no idea what you're going on about! Is this about the garage, because if you want, I can park my car on the street.

SHARON
It's not about that.

CRAIG
It's about football, James. Football. I love it. Don't you? What with its goalies, and red cards, and penalty kicks.

JAMES
Yeah, yeah, football's great. What are you trying to say?

CRAIG
Aha! Football isn't football James, it's soccer! You wouldn't know football if it sacked you in the endzone, you British son of a bitch!

JAMES
Guys, this is crazy.

CRAIG
Admit it! Remember that time I asked you to take me to the dentist, and then we had to have that long conversation about what it was he did. You were fascinated, weren't you James? Weren't you?! You with your dry wit and love of cross dressing!

SHARON
Craig, please. James, we're not upset, we just need to know. I—I found some blood pudding in the fridge yesterday, and, I mean, I know I didn't put it there so...

James looks as if he's in anguish. Finally, he sniffs, straightens, and addresses them in a perfect English accent.

JAMES
Well, so what if I am?

Craig throws a chair against the wall. Tears of rage stand out in his eyes.

CRAIG
Godamnit!! I trusted you!

JAMES
Listen here, you bloody wanker!

SHARON
Hey! Guys--

CRAIG
I should have known! No one can like Shakespeare that much and not be a flaming Brit!

JAMES
The bard is a foundation of Western culture, you inbred twat!

CRAIG
You limey bastard!

SHARON
Stop it! Stop it! You're tearing me apart!

CRAIG (Tearing up)
You make me sick.

JAMES
You think you're so much better than me, do you? Eh? Well, mister, I didn't ask to be born this way, you know? I didn't ask to be...British! I'd love to be normal, like the rest of you, and laugh at Larry the Cable Guy, but I just can't! I can't, I tell you! I love intelligent humor, and I spell things with a “u,” and I hate Indians!

CRAIG (Chanting)
God don't stand for this kind of iniquity! God hates the British! God hates the British! British burn in hell!

JAMES
Right, well, this is real reasonable innit, you bollocksed arse! You've got the poor bird on a jag! Oi, I need a fag.

James fishes around in his pocket. As he talks, Craig covers his ears, grimacing as if in physical pain.

JAMES
Shit, I left 'em in the lorry. I'll hafta take the bloody lift. I'm already late for my herbs and aluminum club.

CRAIG
Shut up! Just shut up!

James leaves, offended. Craig runs to a window and watches him. A beat.

SHARON
Is he getting away?

CRAIG
No, no, he's just sitting in the passenger's seat. Thank God for American cars.

SHARON
Okay, I'll call the police.

CRAIG
I'll get the bat.

They both exit.

---

FACT! Interstitial Segments

The sum of the squares of the lengths of the legs of any right triangle is a closely guarded government secret. FACT!

I hate waiting in lines. FACT!

That which does not kill you may well leave you in a permanently debilitated or vegetative state. FACT!

In 1953, FBI head J. Edgar Hoover began a study of the effects of then-unknown Reality Television shows on celebrity participants as part of a project dubbed “OPERATION: PENETRATION” whose express intention was to destroy the future relationship of Jessica Simpson and Nick Lachey on national television, thereby disillusioning Americans with the institution of marriage in order to prepare mankind for the coming of government-enforced bigamy, the aim of which is to provide our secret, subterranean alien overlords with the nutritious brain stems they so greatly desire.. FACT!

There is no moon. What you think is the moon was destroyed by Russian missiles in the latter half of the Cold War. FACT!

The average human can hold their breath for up to nine minutes underwater, although few have had the tenacity to attempt this. FACT!

Though appearing docile, if given the opportunity, horses would eat you and your family. FACT!

The average sentence spoken by an American youth contains only 4 words, roughly 3 more than are necessary to prove a point. For example: FACT!

The word racecar is spelled the same backwards as forwards. FACT!

All you need is love, four American dollars, a fifth of good scotch, and a friend willing to suck snake venom from any part of your body should the need arise. FACT!

---

Pie Factory Sketch

CHARACTERS

Danny
Wilson
Secretary

An office.

WILSON
This is usurpation, Daniel, and I won't let you get away with it!

DANNY
Well, I'm sorry you feel that way, old man, but the rest of the board agrees with me. Your days at this Pie Manufacturing Firm are numbered.

WILSON
Listen here, you little punk: my grandfather started this company in 1913 with nothing but two graham crackers and a bucket of cream. Hand whipped, mind you! He baked his pies in God's own sunshine, and I'll be damned if I'm going to let this company fall into the hands of some technophile, paper-pushing little nothing!

DANNY
Mr. Wilson, this company has been headed downhill ever since you took control of it. You've torpedoed idea after idea.

WILSON
I needed to fund the new pie line!

DANNY
Your new pie line just made matters worse!

WILSON
The world wasn't ready!

DANNY
The world doesn't want beef jerky in their pies! The world doesn't want resealable crusts, and the world doesn't want “mystery fillings.”

WILSON
Those mystery fillings were brilliant!

DANNY
You killed a man! Pins, Wilson?! Pins?! The lawsuit cost the firm millions. You're through, Wilson, gone. You've screwed up for the last time.

Long pause. Wilson is sad.

WILSON
Do I get to keep the office?

DANNY
No.

WILSON
Pension?

DANNY
I'm afraid not.

WILSON
The pie then. A pie, anything.

DANNY
Fine. The boys downstairs will get you a pie on your way out.

WILSON
No! I want my grandpa's pie, dammit!

DANNY
Fine. Bring in the pie.

A secretary comes in with an old, half-eaten pie. She hands it to Wilson.

WILSON
This is it. The first pie to come off the assembly line. The one that started it all.

Wilson, tears in his eyes, takes a bite of the pie.

DANNY
Alright, you've got the pie, now go.

SECRETARY
Come on, Mr. Wilson

As the secretary tries to escort Wilson out, he starts to struggle, hurling the pie at Danny, but it falls short. He is led out, weeping. After a beat, Danny goes to his desk and hits and intercom button.

DANNY
Hold my calls.

He rips his shirt open, scoops up two handfulls of pie, and smears himself, laughing maniacally.

---

Reclusive Date Sketch

CHARACTERS

Harry
Betsy
Waiter

A restaurant.

BETSY
This is a nice place.

HARRY
Oh, thanks. I've never really done this whole internet dating thing before, I thought it might be a good choice. They have a good mix of food, you know.

BETSY
Yeah, yeah, I'm seeing that. I usually just eat at home, you know, so this is nice.

HARRY
Oh, where do you live?

BETSY
I'm not really comfortable sharing that with you.

HARRY
Oh! Ok.

BETSY
Sorry, it's just, online, you know, you have to be careful.

HARRY
No, no, I understand. Um, well, it said on your profile that you're a teacher?

BETSY
I don't really want to talk about that.

HARRY
Okey-doke.

Long silence. A waiter approaches.

HARRY
Excuse me, could we get some bread?

WAITER
Of course.

Silence.

HARRY
You like bread?

BETSY
That's a little personal, quite frankly.

HARRY (Surprised)
Really?

BETSY
Yes.

HARRY
How is that personal?

BETSY
I said, I don't want to talk about it.

HARRY
Wow. Wow, now I'm just really curious.

BETSY
Well--

HARRY
No, I mean you don't have to tell me. That's just tantalizing, that's all.

BETSY
Hm. Well, you didn't list “prying” as one of your hobbies, so I didn't think it would really be an issue.

The waiter comes with bread.

WAITER
And are you ready to order?

HARRY
Uh, yeah. I'll have the roast duck l'orange, and the mousse for desert.

WAITER
Very good sir. For the lady?

Betsy holds her menu up so the waiter can see it but Harry can't and points to what she wants.

BETSY
And bring it in a paper bag please.

WAITER
Okay, I'll get those started right away.

HARRY
Hm.

BETSY
What?

HARRY
Nothing.

Pause.

BETSY
I like those pants.

HARRY
Thank you. Yeah, they make my ass look good, but they make my butt sweat.

Awkward laugh from Harry.

HARRY
Hah. like, uh...like, it's like I'm swimming in my own juices over here.

Pause.

HARRY
I like your pants too. What are those? Are those capri pants, or what?

BETSY
I'm just not comfortable enough with you to talk about that, okay? You're pushing me, and I don't appreciate it.

HARRY
Gotcha.

Long silence. The waiter comes with a plate of food and a paper bag. He sets the bag down in front of Betsy and she grabs it.

BETSY
I'm going to freshen up.

HARRY
All right.

Betsy takes her bag and exits. Harry addresses the waiter.

HARRY
She's going to eat dinner in the bathroom, isn't she?

WAITER
Yes, sir. Can I get you anything else?

HARRY
No, thanks, I'm fine.

The waiter exits and Harry takes a bite. He yells off towards the waiter.

HARRY
Hey this is good! This is really good.

He keeps eating.

---

Nike Ad Spoof

EXT. BASKETBALL COURT-DAY

A GUY plays basketball. He is incredible. He performs a series of amazing moves.

Two KIDS are watching him from the bleachers. One kid is lacing up his shoes, and the other taps him on the shoulder.

KID A
Hey, check this guy out.

Kid B looks up.

KID B
Huh?

The Guy performs an even more incredible feat, dunking the ball from halfcourt or something similar. Slo-motion shots, up-angle shots, the whole bit.

Kid B is astonished.

KID B
Whoa.

The Guy is wiping his face with a towel as he walks off court, passing the two Kids.

KID A
Hey, man, you’re incredible.

GUY
Thanks.

KID B
What’s your secret?

The Guy smiles slyly.

GUY
It’s the shoes.

Pan down to reveal he is wearing the foot-skin of a black man over his own, bare feet.

KID B
Wow!

KID A
How did I not notice that before?

BLACK SCREEN

A Nike swoosh appears and fills the center of the screen.

ANNOUNCER (V.O.)
Magic Johnson’s Feet. The real choice for a real athlete. Teach your feet to fly.

EXT. BASKETBALL COURT-DAY

KID B (Excited)
Where can I get some?

The Guy looks at the Kid like he’s crazy.

GUY
You can’t. They’re Magic Johnson’s feet. These are the only pair.

KID B (Disappointed)
Oh.

KID A
Didn’t he have AIDS?

The Guy pauses, then looks panicked.

GUY
Oh dear God.