Channel 2 Redneck News

Here's a video I was in, written and directed by my friend Abe Epperson, who also directed and was in several of our Channel 101 failed pilot attempts. I'm Billy Bob, the anchor on the left. I improvised a bit, and it was a lot of fun. The sound seems to be a bit dodgy due to some problem with google video, but if you can muster the energy to wiggle the volume knob on your computer a few degrees now and then, you should be fine.



If you want to see a bigger version, click here.

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!

---

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.

S.M.I.C.

Everyone in the San Diego area (or any area for that matter) is officially but not cordially invited to attend my latest attempt at contributing to the dumbing down of popular culture. Details are on the flier.

GH 157 is on UCSD campus in La Jolla, in Galbraith Hall, across from the La Jolla Playhouse. For a satellite image of that, click here.

I believe any other pertinent info is reproduced above, although I will urge you, if you can, to come to one of the late, non-family friendly shows, as they include some of the funnier sketches.

24 Deleted Scenes/Outtakes

INT. SOUND STAGE-DAY

KIEFER SUTHERLAND and SEAN ASTIN stand center frame on a sound stage. In the background, grips move props and set pieces around. A guy dressed as a terrorist walks by.

KIEFER:
Hi. I'm Kiefer Sutherland, and I portray Counter-Terrorist agent Jack Bouer in the Television series 24. This is my friend and fellow cast member, Sean Astin.

SEAN:
I was Sam in Lord of the Rings.

KIEFER:
You know, in a dramatic and tightly plotted series like ours, which attempts to show you, in real time, the events unfolding during one very bad day, a lot can get left out. That's why we decided to compile this special edition of 24, highlighting the moments in Jack Bouer's workday that we just didn't have time for.

SEAN:
I was Mikey in The Goonies.

KIEFER:
Enjoy.

Pause. The actors seem to drop character. Keifer looks at Sean.

---

BLACK SCREEN

A red time code tics seconds away, as dramatic musical stings hit with every increment. Dunn. DUNN. DUNN! On the last beat, the clock disappears, leaving the screen blank again.

INT. A ROOM-MORNING

A close up of JACK BOUER, revealing only his eyes and brow. His brow is tensed, his eyes flick back and forth intensely.

A wider shot reveals that Jack is reading Time Magazine. The cover story is about a bomb that's going to kill everyone in 24 hours.

A wider shot reveals that Jack is on the toilet. There is a loud knock at the door.

BILL (O.S.):
Jack! Come on!

JACK:
Just a minute!

Split-screen shots show Jack setting down the magazine. Jack washing his hands. Jack pulling up his pants. Jack staring into space looking intense.

EXT. HALLWAY-CONTINUOUS

BILL BUCHANAN waits impatiently for Jack, who comes out of the bathroom.

BILL:
Jack, time is running out!

JACK:
I know that! I know! Look, I'm a human being for God's sake. I was holding that in all day.

BILL:
Well get your ass into the briefing room. Chloe's got some intel for us concerning the bomb's whereabouts.

JACK:
Chloe? Does it have to be Chloe?

BILL:
Dammit Jack, Chloe is the best intel person this agency has!

JACK:
I know, but she looks like someone punched her in the face. She's like a poor man's Renee Zelwegger.

BILL:
Agreed, but there's not time to get anyone else. In case you've forgotten, there's a bomb--

JACK:
Alright! I'm doing it! God, you don't have to be a jerk about it.

---

BLACK SCREEN

A red time code tics seconds away, as dramatic musical stings hit with every increment.

INT. CAR-DAY

Jack is yelling at someone. We can't see who.

JACK:
You may have time to screw around here, but I don't! Lives are at risk, lives that I'm not willing to jeopardize for your sake! So you give me what I want, and you give it to me now!

Wider shot reveals Jack at a drive through window, yelling at a bored-looking TEEN.

TEEN:
Sir, like I said, the fryalator is broken.

JACK:
Give me the burger then! I'll start now!

Jack grabs a bag of food from the teen, rips it open, and starts messily devouring a hamburger. After a moment, the teen hands him his fries. He starts to eat them.

TEEN:
That's 6.05--

Jack has already started driving off.

JACK:
I don't have time! National security!

Jack keeps eating his fries, and there's a ringing sound. He hits a button on the dash, and we hear Buchanan's voice over a speaker.

BILL (O.S.):
Jack, how close are you to the weapons depot?

JACK:
I got held up in traffic, but I'm on my way now.

BILL (O.S.):
Dammit Jack!

JACK:
There was nothing I could do sir. Terrorists...shot...someone.

BILL (O.S.):
Are you eating?

JACK:
How dare you question my dedication to this agency! I should turn around right now and--

BILL (O.S.):
Jack! Video phone!

JACK:
What?

BILL (O.S.):
We installed a video phone.

Jack is silent for a moment, then suddenly pulls over to the side of the road. He starts crying, stuffing the last of the french fries into his mouth.

BILL (O.S.):
Jack? Jack, what are you doing?

JACK:
Could you just---give me a minute? Please?

BILL (O.S.):
Jack!

JACK:
No, shut up! Can I say something? I'm trying really hard, okay? And, I—I just wanted some fries, and I thought that—just forget it. I suck. Everything I do just gets messed up!

BILL (O.S.):
Jack, stop crying, dammit!

JACK:
I'm a terrible secret agent!

BILL (O.S.):
Jack, listen to me. Jack, that's not true, you're a great agent. Come on...who's my big strong agent? Jackie? Who's gonna stop the bomb?

JACK:
My wife got killed, you know, and--

BILL (O.S.):
Shh. Shh. I know, I know. Come on. Who's gonna stop the bomb? Who's my big agent? Who's going to save the city, even though he never gets any credit and his loved ones get repeatedly killed?

JACK (Sullenly):
I am.

---

BLACK SCREEN

A red time code tics seconds away, as dramatic musical stings hit with every increment.

Jack and Chloe are interrogating a subject. The man is tied to a chair. Chloe looks like Renee Zelwegger. Jack is sweaty and exhausted from beating the man. He hits him across the face, and yells.

JACK:
Tell me who you work for!

The man spits in Jack's face, then says something in arabic. Jack pulls out a gun and puts it to his head.

CHLOE:
Jack, this isn't working! We've tried everything, he's not going to talk.

Jack puts the gun back in his belt, and marches off with a purpose.

JACK:
Wait here, I've got an idea.

Chloe looks at the terrorist and smirks, making her face look bizarre and uncomfortable.

CHLOE:
If I were you, I'd start talking. Jack isn't known for his compassion.

The terrorist grimaces at her expression.

TERRORIST:
You are the reason we invented burkhas.

INT. HALLWAY-LATER

Jack is asleep on the floor. He's napping in the fetal position. Various split screen shots show him from different angles.

Chloe is standing over Jack.

CHLOE:
JACK!

JACK:
Wuzzuh! Wah! Uh--

CHLOE:
What are you doing?!

JACK (Groggily springing to his feet):
I'm on it! I'm on it! Where's the bomb?!

CHLOE:
Jack, we're supposed to be interrogating someone!

JACK (Rubbing sleep out of his eyes):
I was—power napping...for power.

---

INT. SOUND STAGE-DAY

Kiefer and Sean.

KIEFER:
Finally, as a special bonus, we'd like to share with you a never-before-seen alternate ending to season 2. Because of some differences of opinion between the writers and producers, the following scene was shot and edited, but ultimately scrapped in favor of a different, much better one. Enjoy.

SEAN:
I was Rudy, in Rudy. That was a good one.

BLACK SCREEN

A red time code tics seconds away, as dramatic musical stings hit with every increment.

EXT. A CITY STREET-DAY

Jack is on the phone with Buchanan. Dead bodies litter the ground. Jack is heaving with exertion.

JACK:
I've done it. I've killed the terrorists and recovered the bomb. The world is safe.

BILL (O.S.):
The world owes you a debt of gratitude, Jack. Unfortunately, because of the political climate, we're not going to be able to let the public know of your involvement.

JACK:
That's fine, sir. I don't do it for the fame.

BILL:
Also, we're going to have to fake your death--

JACK:
Uh-huh.

BILL:
And fly you, in a packing crate, to Indonesia.

JACK:
Oh.

BILL:
Where you will live undercover--

JACK:
Awww!

BILL:
As a sewer treatment specialist--

JACK:
Come on!

BILL:
--pedophile.

JACK:
What? Why is that even necessary?!

BILL:
Goodbye Jack. I'll call you again if we need anything.

JACK:
You guys suck!

Buchanan hangs up. Jack is exasperated.

BLACK SCREEN

INT. SOUND STAGE-DAY

KIEFER SUTHERLAND and SEAN ASTIN stand center frame on a sound stage. In the background, grips move props and set pieces around.

KIEFER:
There you have it. The exciting, uncut world of 24.

SEAN:
I was also the voice of Kodi in Balto 3: Wings of Courage.

KIEFER:
Sean, I swear to God, I will ruin you.

END