<MSTing> Pt6/8 "Windmills"
the...@my-dejanews.com
>Mary and Edward left the house together bowing their heads against the
>relentless wind. Edward strapped himself into his Ford Granada and
> watched Mary as she got behind the wheel of the station wagon.
CROW: They strike me as more of a minivan family.
> "The highway is probably icy," Edward called. "Drive carefully."
> "You too darling."
> She blew him a kiss, and the two cars drove away from the house,
> Edward heading toward the hospital, and Mary driving toward the town of
> Manhattan,
MIKE: Well no wonder the native tribes sold it for twenty-four dollars!
They thought it was in Kansas!
TOM: Think we could convince Trump to move out there?
CROW: I doubt it.
>where the university was located, sixteen miles away.
> Two men in an automobile parked half a block from the Ashley house
>watched the cars leave. They waited until the vehicles were out of
>sight.
> "Let's go."
ALL:(as Ramones- Mike beats his knees for the drumbeat): Ay! Oh! Let's
go! Ay! Oh! Let's go!
> They drove up to the house next door to the Ashleys. Rex Olds, the
>driver, sat in the car while his companion-
TOM: -his longtime companion-
>walked up to the front door and rang the bell. The door was opened by an
>attractive brunette in her middle thirties.
> "Yes? Can I help you?"
CROW: No, ma'am. Just like ringin' doorbells.
> "Mrs. Douglas Schiffer?"
> "Yes...?"
> The man reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out an
> identification card. "My name is Donald Zamlock.
ALL snicker.
>I'm with the Security Agency of the State Department."
MIKE: Yeah, that or a kid's party magician.
TOM: The Great Zamlok! Huzzah!
> "Good God! Don't tell me Doug robbed a bank!"
> The agent smiled politely. "No, Ma'am.
CROW (Zamlock): Not a bank, no.
>Not that we know of. I wanted ask you a few questions about your
> neighbor, Mrs. Ashley."
> She looked at him with sudden concern. "Mary? What about her?"
> "May I come in?"
> "Yes. Of course." Florence Schiffer led him into the living room.
>"Sit down. Would you like some coffee?"
> "No, thanks.
TOM (Florence): Good, I don't have any.
>I'll only take a few minutes of your time."
> "Why would you be asking about Mary?"
> He smiled reassuringly. "This is just a routine check.
MIKE: So is your routine ready? Cue music, and... FIVE, six, seven,
eight!
>She's not suspected of any wrongdoing."
> "I should hope not," Florence Schiffer said indignantly. "Mary
> Ashley is one of the nicest persons you'll ever meet." She added, "Have
> you met her?"
> "Yes ma'am.
CROW: Huh? He did? When?
MIKE: Maybe he means he's met her in his rich fantasy life, where she, Xena
and Liz Phair wait for him each night, tell him he's a bad boy, and model
exotic underwear.>This visit is confidential, and I would appreciate it if
you kept it that
>way. How long have you known Mrs. Ashley?"
TOM (Florence): About twelve feet.
> "About thirteen years. Since the day she moved in next door."
> "Would you say that you know Mrs. Ashley well?"
> "Of course I would. Mary's my closest friend. What-?"
> "Do she and her husband get along well?"
MIKE (Florence): Well, their legs seem fully functional.
CROW: Not that kind of getting along, you...
> "Next to Douglas and me, they're the happiest couple I've ever
> known."
TOM (Florence): Of course, when they're not next to us... POW!
> "I understand Mrs. Ashley has two children. A girl twelve and a boy
>ten?"
> "That's right, Beth and Tim."
> "Would you say she's a good mother?"
MIKE (Florence): Well she's a lousy sea urchin.
> "She's a great mother. What's-?"
> "Mrs. Schiffer, in your opinion, is Mrs. Ashley an emotionally
> stable person?"
TOM whispers to Crow.
CROW: Huh? Oh, OK. Ahem. Say Mike? That's like when inmates at
Bellevue staff a horse farm and it's an emotionally personed stable!
MIKE knocks the dome off Servo's head and across the theater.
TOM: AAAUGH!!! My face! My face! AAAUGH!!!
CROW: Jiminy crickets, Nelson. You almost hit me!
MIKE: Aw, c'mon, Tom, it's just prosthetic anyway.
TOM: AAAUGH! (immediately calms down) Oh.
> "Of course she is."
> "She has no emotional problems that you are aware of?"
> "Certainly not."
> "Does she drink?"
TOM: Only to excess.
> "No. She doesn't like alcohol."
> "What about drugs?"
> "You've come to the wrong town, mister. We don't have a drug
> problem in Junction City."
CROW: Someone should tell Florence what the farmers grow when they can't
turn a profit.
> "Mrs. Ashley is married to a doctor?"
> "Yes."
> "If she wanted to get drugs-?
> "You're way off base.
TOM: No, your way's off second base.
CROW: I'm not asking about drugs on second.
TOM: Drugs are on first!
CROW: I don't know!
ALL: Free base!
>She doesn't do drugs. She doesn't snort, and she doesn't shoot up."
MIKE (Florence): And she doesn't inhale. And she didn't steal no bike,
neither.
> He studied her for a moment. "You seem to know all the
>terminology."
> "I watch Miami Vice, like everyone else.
CROW: Ah, remember when Don Johnson was the next Rick Springfield?
MIKE: Yeah, then David Caruso became the next Don Johnson. Of course, now
with Nash Bridges, Don Johnson is the next Don Johnson.
TOM: My name is Don Johnson. I come from Wisconsin.
>Florence Schiffer was getting angry. "Do you have any more questions?"
CROW: Oh! Um... Has Mary Ashley ever rebroadcast, retransmit, or had any
other use...
MIKE: -of the pictures, descriptions, or accounts of Western European
History...
TOM: -without the expressed written consent of Lynne Cheney?
> "Mary Ashley's grandfather was born in Romania. Have you ever heard
>her discuss Romania?"
> "Oh once in a while she'll tell stories her grandfather told her
> about the old country.
TOM: Say, why do we call Middle Europe "the old country"? Egyptian
civilization predates the most rudimentary European settlements by at
least...
MIKE: Don't go there.
CROW: Well, he's just saying, if you treated African culture with the same
respect you accord your white Eurocentric...
MIKE (covers ears and sings): Oh I come from A-la-bam-a, la la-la!
>Her grandfather was born in Romanian but he came over here when he was in
> his teens."
CROW: IQ-wise, that is.
> "Have you ever heard Mrs. Ashley express a negative opinion about
> the present Romanian government?"
> "No. Not that I can remember."
> "One last question. Have you ever heard Mrs. Ashley or Dr. Ashley
> say anything against the United States government?"
> "Absolutely not!"
TOM: Yeah, right. I think anyone who doesn't condemn the government in
the Midwest is jailed as an illegal immigrant.
> "Then in your estimation, they're both loyal Americans?"
> "You bet they are. Would you mind telling me-?"
MIKE: -all your thoughts on God? I'd really like to meet her.
> The man rose. "I want to thank you for your time, Mrs. Schiffer.
> And I'd like to impress upon you again that this matter is highly
> confidential. I would appreciate it if you didn't discuss it with
> anyone- not even your husband."
CROW: And by the way... is THIS your card?
TOM: The Great Zamlok! Huzzah!
> A moment later he was out the door. Florence Schiffer stood there
>staring after him. "I don't believe this whole conversation took place,"
> she said aloud.
MIKE (ironically): My tax dollars at work. Oy!
> The two agents drove down Washington Street, heading north. They
>passed a billboard that read: ENJOY YOURSELF IN THE LAND OF AH'S.
CROW: So there's a brothel, then.
TOM: That, or their chief export is tongue depressors.
>"Cute," Rex Olds grunted. They went by the chamber of commerce and the
> Royal Order of the Elks building, Irma's Pet Grooming and a bar called
> The Fat Chance.
MIKE: Can't a fella find a place to have fun in this town?
TOM: Fat Chance.
>The commercial buildings came to an abrupt end.
> Donald Zamlock said, "Jesus, the main street is only two blocks
> long. This isn't a town. It's a pit stop."
> Rex Olds said, "To you it's a pit stop, and to me it's a pit stop,
> but to these people it's a town."
CROW (as gruff but lovable Bill the Caretaker from Pod People): To me,
it's a centipede! It's always been a centipede!
> Zamlock shook his head. "It's probably a nice place to live, but I
>sure as hell wouldn't want to visit here."
TOM: Yeah, right, Zamlok. Just get in your cape, that Mercury
dealership's not gonna open itself.
> The sedan pulled up in front of the state bank and Rex Olds went
>inside.
> He returned twenty minutes later.
MIKE (as Olds to locals): Jeez. Yes, that's right, it's an Olds-mobile,
ha-ha. Dumb inbreeding hicks.
>"Clean," he said, getting into the car. "The Ashleys have seven thousand
>dollars in the bank, a mortgage on their house, and they pay their bills
> on time. The president of the bank thinks the doctor is too soft-hearted
> to be a good businessman, but as far as he's concerned, he's a top
>credit risk."
> Zamlock looked at a clipboard at his side. "Let's check out a few
> more names and get back to civilization before I begin to moo."
CROW: Ba-boom! I'm a cow!
TOM: The Great Zamlok!
ALL: Huzzah! (All applaud)
MIKE: Thanks kids, the Great Zamlok will be back at 8:30, in the
meantime, enjoy your dinner at Chuck E. Cheese's!
> Douglas Schiffer was normally a pleasant, easygoing man, but at the
>moment there was a grim expression on his face. The Schiffers and the
>Ashleys were in the middle of their weekly bridge game, and the Schiffers
>were ten thousand points behind.
CROW: That's the Georgia Tech-Cumberland of bridge scores!
> For the fourth time that evening, Florence Schiffer had reneged.
> Douglas Schiffer slammed down his cards. "Florence!" he exploded.
>"Which side are you playing on? Do you know how much we're down?"
> "I'm sorry," she said nervously. "I-I just can't seem to
>concentrate."
TOM: Have you considered switching to- a decaffeinated coffee?
> "Obviously," her husband snorted.
> "Is anything bothering you?" Edward Ashley asked Florence.
> "I can't tell you."
CROW: These damn hemorrhoids!
> They all looked at her in surprise. "What does that mean?" her
> husband asked.
> Florence Schiffer took a deep breath. "Mary- it's about you."
> "What about me?"
MIKE (sings): It isn't fair, I've had enough and I want my share...
> "You're in some sort of trouble, aren't you?"
> Mary stared at her. "Trouble? No. I-what makes you think that?"
> "I'm not supposed to tell. I promised."
> "You promised who?" Edward asked.
> "A federal agent from Washington.
TOM: There, ya see, this is what happens when national security is left to
the honor system.
>He was at the house this morning asking me all kind of questions about
>Mary.
MIKE: Like what she did with Peter and Paul.
>He made her sound like some kind of international spy."
> "What kind of questions?" Edward demanded.
> "Oh, you know. Was she a loyal American? Was she a good wife and
>mother?
CROW: Did I think she'd go out with him?
>Was she on drugs?"
> "Why the devil would they be asking you questions like that?"
> "Wait a minute," Mary said excitedly. "I think I know. It's about
> my tenure."
ALL titter.
MIKE: Yeah. Right. Tenure. Uh-huh. Sure.
> "What?" Florence asked.
> "I'm up for tenure. The university does some sensitive government
>research on campus,
TOM: You know- ozone layer. Cow flatulence. Hush-hush.
>-so I suppose they have to check everyone pretty thoroughly.
MIKE: Yeah, I guess surreptitious State Department interrogations are
pretty much SOP on campus these days.
CROW: She's gotta have her doctorate. It takes at least six years to get
this stupid.
> "Well, thank God that's all it is." Florence Schiffer breathed a
> sigh of relief. "I thought they were going to lock you up."
> "I hope they do," Mary smiled. "At Kansas State."
TOM: We hope they do- at Lebanworth.
> "Well now that that's out of the way," Douglas Schiffer said. "Can
> we get on with the game?" He turned to his wife. "If you renege one
> more time, I'm going to put you over my knee."
ALL: Ewwww!
> "Promises, promises."
MIKE: That was very unright- and not in a good way, either.
>7
>
CROW: 7? What happened to 5 and 6?
TOM: Shh! Don't remind them!
> President Paul Ellison put down the last security report on Mary
> Ashley and said, "Not a blemish, Stan."
CROW: Nope, pretty sure it's a cyst.
> "I know. I think she's the perfect candidate. Of course, State
> isn't going to be happy."
MIKE: A state named State? That must be where generic products come
from.
> "We'll send them a crying towel.
TOM: Oh, The Crying Towel is what Jaye Davison dropped to expose his-
MIKE: Crow!
CROW: What? Tom said it!
MIKE: Oh, sorry. Tom!
TOM: What? It wasn't a pun!
MIKE: Oh. Well- whichever one of you is in trouble, cut it out!
>Now let's hope the Senate will back us up."
>
> Mary Ashley's office in Kedzie Hall was a small pleasant room with
>bookcases that were crammed with reference books on Middle European
>countries.
CROW: The third shelf of books seceded, and subjected its neighbors to
ethnic cleansing.
>The furniture was sparse, consisting of a battered desk with a swivel,
> chair a small table at the window piled with examination papers, a
> ladder-back chair,
TOM: Mike? If I hypothetically said that was made by the Ladder-Day
Saints?
MIKE: Well... you know, I'd hypothetically-
MIKE takes hold of the remains of Servo's head and twists it 180 degrees.
TOM: AAAUGH!
MIKE: Hypothetically.
CROW: What is your deal today, Nelson?!
MIKE: He started it.
>and a reading lamp. On the wall behind the desk was a map of the
>Balkans.
TOM: Where? I can't see!
CROW: You can't see anyway, Tommy. It's a book.
>An ancient photograph of Mary's grandfather hung on the wall. It had
> been taken around the turn of the century, and the figure in the
> photograph was standing in a stiff, unnatural pose, dressed in the
> clothes of the period. The picture was one of Mary's treasures.
MIKE: Oh, Mary's Treasures, the cut-rate Veronica's Secret.
CROW: I don't know, Nelson. That sounds suspiciously like a pun to me.
MIKE: Hmm. You're right.
MIKE grabs his own head, and twists it 180 degrees.
CROW and TOM: AAAUGH! Omigodomigod! AAAUGH!
>It had been her grandfather who had instilled in her a deep curiosity
> about Romania. He had told her romantic stories of Queen Marie, and
> baronesses and princesses, tales of Albert, the prince consort of
> England, and Alexander II, czar of Russia, and dozens of other thrilling
>characters.
> Somewhere in our background there is royal blood. If the revolution
>had not come, you would have been a princess.
MIKE (shrill like girl in "The Little Princess"): Every little girl is a
princess. Didn't your father ever tell you that? DIDN'T HE?!
CROW (whimpering in prayer): Ourfatherwhoartinheavenhallowedbethyname...
TOM: He's Satan! We're in Hell! AAAUGH!
> She used to have dreams about it.
MIKE returns his head to normal, then twists Servo's head back into place.
MIKE: I'm kidding, you rubes. I'm just getting you back for the mental
spat. I'm not Satan.
CROW and Servo stare at him incredulously for a beat, then bust a gut
laughing.
CROW: D'oh!
TOM: You nut! C'mere, you!
> Mary was in the middle of grading examination papers when the door
>opened and Dean Hunter walked in.
CROW: Wow! Fred Dryer in Animal House! This should be cool!
TOM (as Eastwood): I know what you're thinking, Bluto. Did I suspend six
members of Delta House, or only five?
> "Good morning, Mrs. Ashley. Do you have a moment?" It was the first
>time the dean had ever visited her office.
MIKE: Oh, no, this is where she's upset 'cuz he never comes to her
office, and he's upset 'cuz she never invited him, and they wind up
hugging over an international coffee.
> Mary felt a sudden sense of elation. There could be only one reason
>for the dean coming here himself. He was going to tell her the
> university was giving her tenure.
CROW (in magical pixie voice): And she'd win the ruby slippers, and Jo
would marry Laurie, and all would be right as rain!
> "Of course," she said. "Won't you sit down?"
> He sat down on the ladder-back chair.
MIKE: Ow! My head!
TOM: Watch that first step! (chuckles) Of the ladder that hit him in the
back of the head, you see...
>"How are your classes going?"
> "Very well, I think." She could not wait to relay the news to
> Edward. He would be so proud. It was seldom that someone her age
> received tenure from a university.
CROW: Usually they received a spanking!
> Dean Hunter seemed ill at ease. "Are you in some kind of trouble,
> Mrs. Ashley?"
> The question caught her completely off guard. "Trouble?
MIKE (Mary): Right here in Junction City?
> I- no.
TOM: The negative interstate highway.
>Why?"
> "Some men from Washington came to see me, asking questions about
>you."
> Mary Ashley heard the echo of Florence Schiffer's words: Some
> federal agents from Washington...
CROW (as echo): Washington... Washington...
>He was asking all kinds of questions about Mary.
TOM: Mary... Mary...
>He made her sound like some kind of international spy...
MIKE: Spy... spy...
TOM: There is no-o-o-o sanctuary... A-a-a-all frozen...
MIKE: I ho-o-ope no one assa-a-a-asinates the ba-a-astard.
CROW: Tom Stewart killed me!
>Was she a loyal American? Was she a good wife and good mother?
MIKE: Was she haunted by echoing voices in her head... head... head...
CROW: Um, Mike? It's over.
MIKE: Oh. OK.
> So it had not been about her tenure, after all. She suddenly found
> it difficult to speak. "What- what did they want to know, Dean Hunter?"
TOM (as Eastwood): They want to know about the rights of that little girl.
MIKE: Ha. OK, Tom. That's enough pretending to be Dryer pretending to
be Eastwood.
> "They inquired about your reputation as a professor, and they asked
>questions about your personal life."
CROW (as Dean): And I got them all right. Even the Daily Double about
where you soak your fine washables!
> "I can't explain it. I really don't know what's going on. I'm in
> no kind of trouble at all.
TOM (as Mary): Ignorance is safety!
> As far as I know," she added lamely.
MIKE: More lamely.
> He was watching her with obvious skepticism.
> "Didn't they tell you why they were asking questions about me?"
> "No. As a matter of fact, I was asked to keep the conversation in
>strict confidence. But I have a loyalty to my staff, and I felt it only
> fair that you should be informed about this.
TOM: Fellas, I'm startin' to think State Department intelligence would be
safer if it were broadcast on Comedy Central.
>If there is something I should know, I would prefer to hear it from you.
> Any scandal involving one of our professors would reflect badly on the
>university."
> She shook her head helplessly. "I-I really can't think of
>anything."
MIKE: Well, she's stickin' with a believable story, anyway.
>He looked at her a moment, as though about to say something else, then
>nodded. "So be it, Mrs. Ashley."
> She watched him walk out of her office and wondered, what in God's
> name could I have done?
CROW: Bewildered, she dropped by her numbers operation to review the
night's receipts.
> Mary was very quiet during dinner. She wanted to wait until Edward
>finished eating before she broke the news of this latest development.
> They would try to figure out the problem together. The children were
> being impossible again. Beth refused to touch dinner.
TOM: You touch your dinner young lady! Touch it!
> "No one eats meat anymore. It's a barbaric custom carried over from
>the cavemen. Civilized people don't eat live animals."
> "It's not alive," Tim argued. "It's dead, so you might as well eat
>it."
MIKE: Oh good! They're back! I had so missed their snappy reparté!
CROW: It's just like Frasier, except I wish every one of them would die!
> "Children!" Mary's nerves were on edge. "Not another word. Beth,
> go make yourself a salad."
> "She should go graze in a field," Tim offered.
TOM: Yeah, a minefield. You go with her.
> "Tim! You finish you dinner." Her head was beginning to pound.
>"Edward-"
> The telephone rang.
> "That's for me," Beth said. She leaped out of her chair and raced
>toward the telephone. She picked up and said seductively, "Virgil?"
TOM: NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! She is NOT speaking seductively, she is TWELVE!
>She listened a moment, and her expression changed. "Oh, sure," she said
>disgustedly. She slammed down the receiver and returned to the table.
> "What was that all about?" Edward asked.
CROW (Beth): Linda Tripp, swearing she'd never record our phone
conversations again, the bitch.
> "Some practical joker. He said it was the White House calling Mom."
> "The White House?!" Edward asked.
MIKE (Beth): Oh, Mom also got a call from Hull House. Dad, you got a call
from Maxwell House, and Tim from the International House of Pancakes.
> The telephone rang again.
> "I'll get it," Mary said. She rose and walked over to the
>telephone. "Hello." As she listened, her face grew grim.
CROW: Oh, I love this. This is her Bob Newhart impression. It'll kill
ya. Watch.
>"We're in the middle of dinner, and I don't happen to think this is
> funny.
MIKE (resentful): Or suspenseful. Or heartwarming. Or interesting.
> You can't just- what? ... Who?
TOM (in terror): The calls are coming from inside the phone!
>The President?" There was a sudden hush in the room. "Wait a- I- Oh,
> good evening, Mr. President." There was a dazed expression on her face.
> Her family was watching her, wide-eyed. "Yes, sir, I do. I recognize
> your voice. I- I'm sorry about hanging up a moment ago. Beth thought
> it was Virgil, and- yes, sir.
CROW (Mary): Beth, the President wants to know what you're wearing! Skin-
tight jeans, Mr. President.
>Thank you." She stood there listening. "Would I be willing to serve as
>what?" Her face suddenly flushed.
TOM: Since the house has no bathroom, it's the only thing that can.
> Edward was on his feet, moving toward the phone, the children close
>behind him.
> "There must be some mistake, Mr. President. My name is Mary Ashley.
CROW (Mary): And I'm an alcoholic.
>I'm a professor at Kansas State University, and- You read it?
MIKE (as if speaking from phone): I certainly did.
>Thank you, sir...
MIKE (phone): Lotta words in that thing.
>That's very kind of you...
MIKE (phone): 54,906 if I'm not mistaken.
>Yes I believe it is..." She listened for a long time.
TOM (phone): Never was much of a word man myself. Always preferred
pictograms. No one knows what you're saying, but they think it's damn
eloquent.
>"Yes, sir, I agree. But that doesn't mean I...
CROW (phone): I want you to write a book in numbers.
>Yes, sir. Yes, sir I see. Well, I'm certainly flattered. I'm sure it's
> a wonderful opportunity, but I...
CROW (phone): Not even any spaces. Just one, big, four million digit
number. About an asteroid hitting the Earth.
>-of course I will.
TOM (phone): Good.
>I'll talk it over with my husband and get back to you." She picked up a
> pen and wrote down a number.
TOM (phone): No, don't write the number now! Put some thought into it! I
want this number to tell a great story. Real Movie of the Week potential.
Maybe a miniseries. Just make sure it has a vampire in it somewhere, and
a speedboat chase. Oh, and work in a love story!
>"Yes, sir. I have it. Thank you, Mr. President. Good-bye."
> She slowly replaced the receiver and stood there in shock.
> "What in God's name was that all about?" Edward demanded.
> "Was that really the President?" Tim asked.
> Mary sank in a chair, "Yes. It really was."
MIKE (Mary): He offered me one million dollars- to spend just one night
with my husband!
> Edward took Mary's hand in his. "Mary- what did he say? What did
> he want?"
> Mary sat there, numb, thinking: So that's what all the questioning
> has been about.
TOM: It had nothing to do with the Hokey Pokey!
> She looked up at Edward and the children and said slowly, "The
>President read my book and the article of mine in Foreign Affairs
> magazine, and he thought it was brilliant. He said that's the kind of
> thinking he wants for his people-to-people program. He wants to
> nominate me as ambassador to Romania."
MIKE: When he knows I have Rophobia.
> There was a look of total disbelief on Edward's face.
> "You? Why you?"
CROW: Ah, the same words he spoke on their wedding night.
> It was exactly what Mary had asked herself, but she felt that Edward
>could have been more tactful. He could have said, "How wonderful! You'd
>make a great ambassador."
MIKE: Or, "God Almighty! What the hell were they thinking?"
>But he was being realistic. Why me, indeed?
> "You haven't had any political experience."
> "I'm well aware of that," Mary responded tartly. "I agree the whole
>thing is ridiculous."
> "Are you going to be the ambassador?" Tim asked. "Are we moving to
>Rome?"
> "Romania."
> "Where's Romania?"
TOM (vindictively): Up your scrawny prepubescent-
MIKE (picks up Tom, all leave the theater): Tom, let's just take a deep
cleansing breath, OK? You can do a sketch with Crow, that's fun, huh?
TOM (sarcastically): Oh, it's like Disneyland with words, Michael.
CROW (sincerely): Thanks!
/ * \ ... = 2 =... > 3 < ... [ 4 ]... ( 5 )... | 6 |...
There is a spinning disco ball on the bridge. Tom is dressed in a
ridiculous white Travolta suit, standing around waiting for Crow, and he
is not pleased. Crow comes into the foreground.
CROW: Ahem. Good evening. Welcome to "Disco of the Gods", a playlet by
Crow T.Robot. Based on characters created by Sidney Sheldon. Who were
featured in a work by Sidney Sheldon. That were thought up in the head of
Sidney-
TOM: Crow! Can we get on with this! I feel like a milkman who lost his
hat!
CROW: Oh. Right. OK, well before we begin, I think I have to set up the
scene because this is actually a very small part of a larger work, which I
am currently in the midst of trying to get out of the middle of figuring
out what it is that I want to have happening in it... yet.
TOM: Crow, can we please just do the damn playlet! I still gotta grab the
last Goo-Goo Cluster before Mike gets his fleshy maw on it.
CROW: Um, OK. This is what I imagine would happen if Stanton Rogers and
Mary Ashley met in a swinging 70's singles bar long before either of them
even dreamed of their future as poorly-drawn characters in "Windmills of
the Gods".
CROW leaves the foreground, and re-enters in front of Tom.
TOM (clears throat, begins as swinging single): Sta-
CROW (interrupts): Oh. Tom will be playing the part of Stanton Rogers.
TOM: They know that, Crow!
CROW: Well, good. Clarity is helpful.
TOM (composes himself, clears his throat, starts again): Sta-
CROW: Oh, and I'll be playing Mary Ashley.
TOM (furious): They know that Crow!
CROW: Well I'm not in costume, so they might-
TOM: Who am I?
CROW: Stanton Rogers.
TOM: Who am I supposed to meet?
CROW: Mary Ashley.
TOM: Who's the only other person here?
CROW: Well-
TOM: THEY KNOW YOU'RE MARY FLIPPIN' ASHLEY ALREADY!
MIKE walks in eating a Goo-Goo cluster.
MIKE: Hey guys. What's up?
TOM sees the Goo-Goo Cluster, chokes back a whimper or two, then screams
in frustration and leaves.
MIKE: Oh, hey, this your playlet? Can I do it with you?
CROW: Sure, take the Stanton Rogers part.
MIKE: Ok, let me just take a second here...
(Mike puts down candy, reads, takes some deep breaths, and gets into
character. Reads next line as swinging Stanton Rogers introducing
himself.)
MIKE: Stanton Rogers.
CROW: Mary Ashley.
MIKE (offering a drink): Tom Collins?
CROW (declining): Johnnie Walker.
Suddenly we hear a crash, the SOL shakes, Mike and Crow lose balance.
MIKE: Whoa! Cambot, give me rocket niner numb!
Exterior view- a ship made out a huge paperback novel has hit the SOL.
Bridge. Hexfield opens to reveal a bon vivant Englishmen in smoking jacket
(Paul C in a bathrobe) sits in a lounge chair, puffing on a pipe, swirling a
snifter of brandy.
CROW and MIKE: Sidney Sheldon!
SIDNEY (gregariously): Greetings and felicitations to the Satellite of-
MIKE (interrupting as light flashes): Um, Mr. Sheldon? I'm sorry, we have
commercial sign.
SIDNEY (after chewing on his pipe): Oh. Well, never mind, then. Cheerio!
Hexfield closes.
CROW: Poor guy. We should send him some mail-order steaks.
MIKE: Hey, who swiped my Goo-Goo Cluster?
TOM chuckles off-screen
Commercial- Obey your thirst! Cluck like a chicken!
<< End Part VI >>
That's not the Goodrich e-mail. Goodrich doesn't have e-mail.
peasporr...@hotmail.com
-----------== Posted via Deja News, The Discussion Network ==----------
http://www.dejanews.com/ Search, Read, Discuss, or Start Your Own