Happy Holidays!

Swinging through Indiana today to see Julie's parents and then on to Ohio tomorrow to see my mom and brothers. Instead of us trekking to a Chinese buffet on Christmas, Julie is going to cook my family a huge Thai dinner. We'll get back on Wednesday.

Robowriters is cancelled for Thursday, December 27th and will return after Sketchfest on January 17th.

Have a happy holiday, in spite of how screwed up the world is.

Saturday Morning Cartoons!

(This "Saturday Morning Cartoon" was the first ever on this blog posted on May, 12, 2007. I am taking a semi-vacation from blogging over the holiday and will be posting "encore presentations" that you may have missed. Enjoy your holidays. - Joe)


It's Saturday morning! Grab a pillow to sit on. Go get a bowl of Corn Pops.

Don't sit next to your brother. He'll try to fart on your cereal.




And when you're done with that, check out the fun we had at Looptopia. Been a long time since I got my Dada on in front of an audience.

Anton Chekhov's Bastard Child

One of my favorite shows ever that I directed was called Anton Chekhov's Bastard Child. The first and only show, that I know of, that tried to mix improv and writing. It featured four writers, on stage, with manual typewriters and four actor/improvisers. Writers would be churning out scripts as actors would rip them from their printing machines and act out scenes until they ran out of printed words and then start improvising. There were typos a-plenty, which the actors usually incorporated with glee. We did break-up songs, puppet shows and news casts. The big finish was an exquisite corpse-style poetry slam with guitar and drums. It was quite an undertaking. The original cast of writers was Aaron Sjoholm, Amy Guth, Greg Pokuza and Joe Linstroth. The original actor/improvisers were Gabe Garza, Kate Powers, Mike Johnson and Rebecca Wallenford (I probably just royally screwed up Rebecca's last name - sorry Rebecca!). That company of peeps became the seedlings of Teatro Bastardo which begat Robot vs Dinosaur-Chicago.

When the show rocked, it tore the roof off the place. When it sucked, it sucked mightily. There was no in-between. It's a tough show to deliver and I think our ambition was running a few yards ahead of our talent. The last time we did the show may have been in 2003. It would be interesting to bring it back to see how our chops measure up to the demands of the show.



ROBOWRITERS ASSIGNMENT

We used to start ACBC by getting a line of dialogue chosen at random by an audience member from the works of Anton Chekhov. The four writers would immediately dive in to cranking out three three-line maximum scenes. The actors would start performing them after the first four were complete. The last four scenes were usually pulled from the typewriters mid-sentence.

Your assignment is to crank out three three-lines scenes based on the following quotation...

"We shall find peace. We shall hear the angels, we shall see the sky sparkling with diamonds."
- Anton Chekhov from Uncle Vanya

The quote is a jumping off point. Use it directly, use it indirectly. Move quickly, so there's not a lot of time for you think about it. The idea is to capture a moment in these three-line scenes. Use the stage directions almost as you would a narrator if you want to give background information. It's stuff you can use later, if you decide to develop the scene further.

Here's an example that I am pulling out of my butt as I write. The word peace makes me think of war which makes me think of Iraq and the desert at night.

(Lights up on Randolph. He is a young man in his early twenties. He is tough and wiry and alert. If he weren't wearing khakis and a flak jacket, he'd be wearing an orange jumpsuit in a prison in Jackson, Michigan. Next to him stands Vernon. A man in his late 30's who looks tired. They are both holding rifles.)

VERNON

I'm going to lie down.

RANDOLPH

Don't lie down. You'll die out here.

VERNON

Fuck that. There's nothing going on and I am whipped.

(Vernon lies down using his pack as a pillow and his helmet to cover his eyes. Randolph looks agitated. He shoots Vernon. Lights out.)

Brilliant! Brilliant, I say! Well, okay, maybe not. But I like the characters and I can see developing this further and, if I keep anything, this might be the very end of the scene.

Have fun.



THE BS NEWS QUIZ OF THE DAY

Yesterday, I asked...

"Kyrgyzstan has decided to name a mountain what?"

30% said "Mount Jesus"
- Is that an order?

28% said "Mount Osama"
- Well, it would make him easier to find.

14% said "Mount Muhammed"
- Yeah, all we need is another reason for the zealots to get all uppity

28% got it right with "Mount Santa Claus"

According to the Associated Press, just in time for Christmas, Kyrgyzstan authorities say they plan to name a snowy peak "Mount Santa Claus." Why is a predominantly Muslim and former Soviet land honoring the jolly old elf? "We want to develop tourism, and Santa Claus is an ideal brand to help us do this," said Nurhon Tadzhibayeva, an official with Kyrgyz tourist authorities. I guess Kyrgyztan is a little behind in the use of focus groups. They also, I believe, missed an opportunity to infuse their economy with some mega advertising bucks. Mount Bee Movie, anyone?

They Were Hoping We Wouldn't Notice

You probably heard about the energy bill passed yesterday that will hold the automobile industry accountable to increasing gas mileage and reducing emissions (by the way, these have been passed before, only to be rescinded as the deadline comes closer and the auto industry claims it can't be done.) Because of the hoopla over this bill from both the congress and the White House, you might have missed this...

Handed control of Congress last year after making promises to end the war in Iraq, restore fiscal discipline in Washington and check President Bush's powers, Democrats instead closed the first session of the 110th Congress yesterday with House votes that sent Bush $70 billion in war funding...

You can read the full article from the Washington Post by clicking HERE.

What is up with this pussy-whipped congress, you might ask? It's simple. We've all seen it before. We have either experienced it directly, have known family or friends who have been through it, or we have seen a Lifetime original movie about it. George W. Bush is an addict. Has been. Always will be. He is currently addicted to power and greed. Congress is an enabler.

According to About.com, which uses alcoholism as an example, this is an enabler...

Many times when family and friends try to "help" alcoholics, they are actually making it easier for them to continue in the progression of the disease.

This baffling phenomenon is called enabling, which takes many forms, all of which have the same effect -- allowing the alcoholic to avoid the consequences of his actions. This in turn allows the alcoholic to continue merrily along his (or her) drinking ways, secure in the knowledge that no matter how much he screws up, somebody will always be there to rescue him from his mistakes.

Simply, enabling creates a atmosphere in which the alcoholic can comfortably continue his unacceptable behavior.

Here is a quiz, also from About.com, that I suggest we send to every member of congress. I have substituted the word "alcoholic" with "addict."

Are you an enabler?

1. Have you accepted part of the blame for his behavior?

2. Have you avoided talking about his problem out of fear of his response?

3. Have you paid bills that he was supposed to have paid himself?

4. Have you loaned him money?

5. Have you given him "one more chance" and then another and another?

6. Have you threatened to leave and didn't?

7. Have you finished a job or project that the addict failed to complete himself?

If you answered "yes" to most or all of these questions - which congress most certainly would if they tell the truth! - you have not only enabled the addict you have probably become a major contributor to the growing and continuing problem and chances are have become effected by the disease yourself.

As long as the addict has his enabling devices in place, it is easy for him to continue to deny he has a problem -- since most of his problems are being "solved" by those around him. Only when he is forced to face the consequences of his own actions, will it finally begin to sink in how deep his problem has become.

Congress - you are an enabler. It is time George W. Bush was held accountable for his actions. Tough love, baby. We need some tough love.

Robowriters Tonight

Robowriters will be meeting tonight and next week. Looks like we won't be taking any time off except during Sketchfest, when we have shows falling on those nights. So, if you have something you are working on or are looking for something to work on, stop by the Uptown Writer's Space tonight and next week. Usually, these run from 6:30pm to 8pm. At 8pm, the Robot vs Dinosaur group usually comes in, but we have moved them to another space to rehearse. Since there's no pressure to wrap up at 8pm, we'll go until we are through. No sketch left unread!



THE BS NEWS QUIZ OF THE DAY

Yesterday, I asked...

"Visa is offering a new kind of gift card this holiday season that specifically goes towards what?"

42% said "Taxes"
- Ah, taxes. The gift that keeps on giving. Nope.

33% said "Funeral Expenses"
- See "taxes."

No one went for "Gambling Expenses"
- apparently, the mob has this one covered.

25% got it right with "Medical Expenses"

According to CBS, this gift card can be used for doctors' visits or deductibles, prescription co-pays, contact lenses and even elective surgery. The card is issued by Visa, so it can be used anywhere Visa is accepted for health-related services. So it might not cover your gambling debts, but if the mob busts your kneecap, you're set.

I Believe...

Happy to announce that you will have more than one opportunity to see Locked in a Room with Don Hall and Joe Janes: 2 Guys, 1 Cup at this year's Chicago Sketchfest. Opening night on January 3rd you can catch us at 9:30pm in the West Theater of the venue. We will be doing an "encore" performance at 7pm on January 5th, also in the West Theater. As Don puts it, word-of-mouth of our Thursday show will either pack or empty the place for Saturday.

This year will be all new material. Last year's show had us venting our respective spleens all over the stage mostly regarding the state of improv and sketch comedy. There will still be some of that, but most of the show will be us setting off comedy dirty bombs about ALL the things that piss us off. Oh, and there's full frontal nudity.

One thing we did last year in our show was pepper it with Don and I stating our opinions about what's right and, mostly, wrong in the world. These segments were called "I Believe's..." We'll be doing that, again, but all brand new shiny ones.

Here are my "I Believe's..." from last year.

I believe people should be required to get a license use a public restroom. A test should be administered involving aim and hygiene that is considerate of others.

If you’re going to have public urination laws, using cell phones while driving laws, bicycle traffic laws, here’s an idea, enforce them!

We have an addiction-driven economy – gambling, alcohol, caffeine, pornography, fast food, to name a few. It’s not in the best interests of our nation to be healthy.

I believe an improviser whose ultimate goal is to be on SNL or MADtv, hasn’t watched either of those shows in awhile.

I believe improvisers are lazy and think standing around saying pithy things passes for good improv.

I believe America is fixated on material wealth and has lost sight of the really important things such as love of material wealth.

I believe technology has ruined for a new generation the joy of ever listening to an entire record album. Side one and side two. Great music should never be downloaded.

I believe everyone has already had their fifteen minutes of fame, and, really, it’s time to move on.

I believe conspiracy theories are a conspiracy theory.

I believe the general public confuses shock for comedy, gore for horror, scary music for suspense and jiggly things for erotica.

I believe the entire US tax system should be abolished and, in it’s place - a $20 cover charge.

There is no hope in this society until the manipulation of truth to go to war, illegal incarceration and murder make us more outraged than wardrobe malfunctions, gay marriage and oval office blow jobs.

Many people complain that iO featuring stand-up comedy is an affront to the study of improvisation, unlike the writing courses they offer.

I believe we descended from apes. Apes that wore leather, rode horses, and kept mutes for slaves. Hey, it’s what I believe.

THE BS NEWS QUIZ OF THE DAY

Yesterday, I asked...

"Employees at a Fargo, North Dakota bank are getting holiday bonuses under the condition that they what?"

57% said "Not spend it on booze"
- Here's what's really happening behind that bank counter. Tellers are naked from the waist down and can't wait for you to leave so they can start partying again. Customers interrupt and annoy them. That's why they came up with the ATM.

No one thought it was "Not spend it on drugs" or "Not spend it on gambling"
- Apparently, these are very acceptable uses of one's money in Fargo in the winter.

42% got the right answer, "Not spend it on their families"

According to the Associated Press, State Bank & Trust Chief Operating Officer Michael Solberg said each full-time employee will receive $1,000 and each part-time employee will receive $500, as part of a $502,000 "Pay it Forward" initiative. Employees were told not to use the money for themselves, their families or families of other bank employees. I can appreciate where the bank is coming from, but if I were an employee, I would think this sucked mightily. They are being forced to be charitable, which kind of eliminates that charity part. Fortunately, I am here to offer a solution to the employee who wants to give and instantly get back for their efforts.

Send your money to:
The Joe Janes Foundation
c/o The Second City
1616 North Wells Street
Chicago, Illinois, 60614

80% of your holiday fund will be mailed back to you. I have to keep 20% for administrative fees, ya' know.

Think Before You Bink

In the late 60's and early 70's, there were two urgent movements in America that seemed to be gaining momentum and then just faded away. One was the ecology movement which focused on cleaning up our planet, from litter to pollution. It was probably the first big push to educate and influence the population to be socially responsible, from picking up litter to cleaning up the skies. Traces of it can be seen through Earth Day and current environmental initiatives. It even made its way into pop culture, most notably for me, through Carol Burnett. At the end of her show, just before saying good-bye, she would give a tip about picking up trash along the road, or whatever. As a sixth grader, it prompted me to write my first letter to a celebrity asking her for a list of those sayings. I made them into posters for a school project. And, yes, those posters probably ended up choking a raccoon in some landfill somewhere. Oh, the cruel, cruel irony.





Another movement that seems to have all but disappeared was ZPG. Zero Population Growth. In the '60's, there was a group of people trying to tell the world that if we don't stop multiplying, we'll run out of room and resources. They promoted images of crowded streets where everyone wore gas masks. Not as embraced as the ecology folks, they were generally considered to be paranoid alarmists. Given the failure of the abstinence program, the rise in teenage pregnancy, the number of young mothers with multiple children that I see on the bus and subway, the number of kids I see and hear up past 11pm on a school night, the more I wish ZPG were back with a vengeance. We are growing so quickly and irresponsibly, that not only are we endangering our resources, our children are not getting the proper parenting they need to grow to be healthy, contributing adults.

Below is the opening to Mike Judge's film Idiocracy. It is a brilliant satire about what our future holds given our current trajectory. His demonstration of why America is dumbing down is in the first three minutes. The whole film is great and was so biting, the studios buried it when it was released. It's now available on DVD. If you haven't seen it, SEEK IT OUT. You'll want to run out and give every boy who turns 16 a condom. I personally would prefer to also put a chastity belt on every girl until they finish college. And remind them not to litter.

THE BS NEWS QUIZ OF THE DAY

Yesterday, I asked...

"The Miami County Jail in Ohio is joining other jails around the country trying to create a calmer environment by doing what?"

67% said "Using lavender scented aerosols"
- That's what my dentist does. And it does make me relax more and enjoy the pain.

17% said "Having security guards speak in hushed tones"
- Clint Eastwood speaks in hushed tones. It does not have a calming effect. "Feel calm, punk? Well do ya'?"

No one fell for "Pumping in John Tesh music"
- We all know what kind of blood shed that would cause.

16% picked the right answer, "Painting the cells pink"

According to the Associated Press, inmates at the Miami County Jail are putting color on the jail's once cream-colored walls after Sheriff Charles Cox entered the academic debate over the color pink's calming abilities. Researchers have documented the ability of certain colors to evoke emotional and physical responses, and many jails around the nation have been painted pink as a pacifying measure. I don't think it so much makes them calmer as self-conscious. No one wants to make any sudden, flamboyant moves.

Cheddar Moon

Here's the ten-minute play I wrote for the Columbia College 24-Hour Plays Festival last week. It's been awhile since I've had that exhilarating feeling of just being the playwright and sitting in the audience. It makes you feel both excited and helpless. The place was packed. This piece went over very well. I got a big kick at looking over at Sheldon Patinkin in the audience and watching him crack up at stuff I wrote. It was beautifully delivered by Amber Linde (Doreena), Jon Cohen (Tate) and Brad Fry (Nick) under the direction of Brea Hayes.


Cheddar Moon
written by Joe Janes

Lunch Lady Doreena – late 30’s
Principal Tate – late 30’s
Nick – 18

(Lights up on Doreena. She wears a cafeteria worker outfit with a pink sweater. She stands in the center of the stage under a spotlight. She is in her late 30’s and has a lady beard. It’s light in color and a little wispy. She is holding a blue ribbon. She looks as though she is looking at her own reflection in a mirror. She takes the ribbon and ties a bow in her beard. She approves. The lights come up to reveal a cafeteria kitchen. There is a large soup pot on a stove and a nearby shelf with an old small boom box. She takes something wrapped in a handkerchief from her sweater pocket. She slowly and carefully unwraps it. It is a cassette in a red, white and blue case. She puts it into the boom box and presses play. Upstage behind her appears Nick wearing a red, white and blue tuxedo jacket. She does not see him or acknowledge him.)

NICK

Doreena. My sweetheart. It’s me, Nick. I made you this mixed tape with all your favorite songs on it so we’d have something to make out to after the Winter Formal this weekend. Maybe it will drown out the slurping sounds you said I made last time. Sorry about that. I think of you and it’s like turning on a faucet in my mouth.


(Nick wipes off his chin with his sleeve and disappears. “Alone” by Heart, begins to play. She slowly and sadly stirs whatever’s in the soup pot. Principal Tate enters.)

TATE

Doreena -

(She quickly turns off the tape and wipes her eyes.)

DOREENA

Principal Tate. You startled me.

TATE

I was just walking down the hall when I smelled this wonderful aroma. (He moves towards the pot and she counters away from him. He notices, but continues. He takes a sip of the broth with the ladle she left in it.) Lovely broth. Piquant. What is it?

DOREENA

Jock straps. And bleach. I’m boiling jock straps. With bleach. And a little lemon. The washing machine in the locker room broke down so I told the varsity coach I’d help out.

TATE

I see. Needs basil.

(He steps away from the pot and Doreena returns to it. She turns down the heat and stirs.)

TATE (continuing)

Doreena. As you know, the winter formal is tomorrow night.

DOREENA

Oh, is it?

TATE

Yes. And we need chaperones. I was wondering if you would like to chaperone.

DOREENA

Alone?

TATE

I’ll be there. We could chaperone together. (He walks up behind her and smells her hair.)

DOREENA

I think I have something Saturday-

TATE

Oh - don’t answer yet. I brought you some candy. I know how much you love chocolate. So, I brought you some cough drops. I didn’t have any chocolate. They’re cherry. Very candy-like. Here. (He hands her a small box of cough drops, but she doesn’t take them. He sets them down near the boom box.)

DOREENA

That’s thoughtful, but you shouldn’t have-

TATE (Embraces her from behind)

Oh, Doreena. Don’t make me grovel. I ask you every year and every year you say “no.”

DOREENA (pushing him away)

Then maybe you should stop asking, Principal Tate.

TATE

Call me Lawrence. Like you did when we were in high school.

DOREENA

I didn’t love you then, Lawrence, and I don’t love you, now.

TATE

I know. You never loved me. You love Nick. Just give me a chance. Nick’s not coming back, Doreena.

DOREENA

I know that.

TATE

I don’t think you do know that. It’s been twenty years since Nick went riding off on his motorcycle leaving you behind at the Winter Formal. They found him and his bike crumpled to bits at the bottom of Cheddar Moon Quarry (he stifles a small laugh)

DOREENA

My brain knows that. My heart, Lawrence. It’s my heart that refuses to believe it. It still belongs to Nick.

TATE

Well, after twenty years, I can take a hint. You come with me to the winter formal, or you are fired.

DOREENA

Fired? You can’t fire me.

TATE

Yes. I can. This time, I most certainly can.

DOREENA

This place is the only thing I have left of Nick. I started working here right after graduation. I kept my summer job at the roller rink deodorizing the skates. Nick used to hang out there all the time. Spraying gravel in the parking lot with his motorcycle.

TATE

I know. I’m the one who always called the police.

DOREENA

They tore it down this year and put up a Chuck E. Cheese. He was, and is, my one and only true love. Nick. Not Chuck E. Cheese.

TATE

You think about what I said, Doreena. Just think about what I said.

(He exits. She turns the music back on and resumes stirring the jock straps. Nick returns where he was previously onstage, but slowly walks into the kitchen area. He watches Doreena.)

NICK

That’s a mighty pretty blue ribbon in your beard. (Doreena turns to see him.) It really brings out the brown in your eyes.

DOREENA

Nick! (She runs into his arms.) Oh, Nick. Is it you? Is it really you?

NICK

It’s really me, Doreena. (They kiss. He wipes his mouth off with his sleeve.) I knew I’d find you here.

DOREENA

I waited for you, Nick. I knew you’d come back for me. I stood in the middle of the dance floor and waited. I cried and I waited until I stood alone. The high school cafeteria was transformed into a winter wonderland that night with giant paper snowflakes hanging from the ceiling tiles and tiny marshmallow snowmen with jujube eyes on the table-tops.

NICK

You made those snowmen, Doreena. I ate one.

DOREENA

I should have told you about the toothpicks.

NICK (he steps away from her)

You made my gums bleed like my heart. I saw you with Lawrence. It made me crazy.

DOREENA

It’s not what you think, Nick. He made me kiss him. He said he’d fire me from my job at the roller rink.

NICK

He couldn’t have done that. He worked the concession stand. (He moves towards the door)

DOREENA

I didn’t know. He had seniority. He made it sound convincing. You know how he is. He uses words like “piquant.” You left before I could explain… Oh, Nick. Please.

(The song on the boom box changes to “Don’t Dream It’s Over” by Crowded House.)

NICK

We never did finish our dance that night.

DOREENA

No. I guess we never did.

(They approach each other as if they are going to go into a soulful, graceful, romantic dance number, but then quickly slump into each other the way most high schoolers dance to slow songs. Doreena’s hands firmly planted on Nick’s buttocks.)

DOREENA

You look exactly the same, Nick. You haven’t changed a bit. How can that be?

NICK

There’s actually a perfectly logical explanation –

(Tate enters.)

TATE

I know how much you love flowers, so I brought you these festive pencils I confiscated- Nick!

NICK

Ass-Licker Larry!

(Doreena turns off the tape player.)

TATE

It’s Principal Tate, now, and you’re trespassing on school property.

NICK

Guess you’ll have to call the cops, A-L-L.

TATE

You’re supposed to be dead.

NICK

No thanks to you.

TATE

No thanks to me, what?

NICK

What?

TATE (slowly working his way to the soup pot)

I said “You’re supposed to be dead.” And you said “No thanks to you.” What exactly are you not thanking me for?

NICK

My motorbike was sabotaged. The break line was cut, Lawrence. Know anything about that? (Tate shrugs) I think you do. So, I am not thanking you for me being alive. Sort of.

TATE

Are you alive? You could be a ghost. You haven’t aged at all. How do you explain that?

NICK

It’s really quite simple, at the bottom of the quarry-

(Tate flings a hot, wet jock strap at Nick’s face. It temporarily blinds him. He stumbles towards the pot.)

TATE

Let’s get out of here, Doreena. (He grabs her to go, she fights back.)

DOREENA

What the hell are you doing, Lawrence?

TATE

Saving you from a ghost.

DOREENA

I don’t think so, murderer!

NICK

Man, I thought cafeteria food sucked in my day! What the hell are you feeding these kids!

DOREENA

It’s a long story. (She rushes over to Nick.)

NICK

You killed me, Lawrence. I knocked on death’s door. He answered and he liked what he saw. He struck me a deal. I said I’d go with him, and let him wear my jacket whenever he wanted. Someday he’d have to let me come back and kiss my girl one more time and kick your ass!

(He grabs the soup ladle from the pot and hits the tape player which starts playing “Bad” by Michael Jackson. Nick goes after Tate who fends him off with the bouquet of pencils. They duel and bludgeon, etc. It goes back and forth until Nick and Tate struggle and Tate is stabbed with the pencils.)

NICK

Oh, crap. Sorry about that, Lawrence. I hate your guts, but I didn’t want to poke a hole in them.

TATE

It’s only a flesh wound. I’m not done, yet. (He takes a swing at Nick.)

NICK

Well, in that case…


(Tate still has some fight in him and they struggle. Nick pins Tate down and straddles him. He makes Tate hit himself in the face. Doreena turns off the tape player.)

NICK

Why are you hitting yourself? Why are you hitting yourself?

TATE

I am not hitting myself. You are hitting myself.

NICK

Doreena?

DOREENA

Looks like he’s hitting himself to me.

TATE

Fine. I’m hitting myself. You stabbed me, I’m bleeding and this couldn’t possibly be any more humiliating for me. What do you want?

NICK

What do I want? I’ll tell you what I want. I want to hear the birds sing, again. I want to feel the roar of my motorbike between my legs. I want to feel Doreena’s beard brush up against the back of my neck as she holds me tight as we storm on down the highway. Most of all, I want you to leave her alone.

TATE (pathetically)

Okay.

NICK

And Doreena, I want you to forget about me. Thank you for waiting for me. But you’re done now. I have to go back.

DOREENA

I’ll go with you.

NICK

You can’t. You need to stay here. Go get gussied up on Saturday night and go find yourself a fella that will treat you proper. You’re not going to find him staring into that pot full of athletic supporters and listening to twenty-year-old mixed tapes. I love you. But it’s time to heal your heart and move on.

(He tenderly strokes her beard and kisses her. He wipes off his mouth with his sleeve and vanishes the way he came in.)

DOREENA

Guess I won’t be coming in on Monday.

(Tate gets up. He checks his wound.)

DOREENA (continuing)

The jock straps need to be stirred every ten minutes. In an hour, take them out, wring them out, by hand, and then pop them in the oven at 350 degrees for fifteen minutes. They need them for the football game tonight. Don’t mess it up or you’ll be fired.

(She is about to leave. She turns and heads back to the tape player and takes the tape out. She thinks better of it and puts it back in and turns it on.)

DOREENA (continuing)

You keep it, Lawrence. It’s time for me to move on.

(Tate stirs the jock straps as “Alone” by Heart plays, again. Death –in a hooded black robe, carrying a scythe, and wearing Nick’s red, white and blue jacket - enters. He taps Tate on the shoulder with his scythe.)

TATE

Oh, crap.

(Blackout.)




THE BS NEWS QUIZ OF THE DAY

Friday, I asked...

"Yanadi Kondaiah of India claimed anyone touching his leg would be cured of illnesses or have wishes granted. Two men this week thanked him by giving him a drink and doing what?"

50% said "Buying him 12 prostitutes"
- All at the same time, or did they give him one of those gift cards they punch a hole in after each use?

13% said "Dipping him up to his neck in oil"
- Sounds like fun. Unless it was used oil from a Chinese restaurant. Lucky Man Tempura, anyone?

No one bought "Stealing his pot of gold"

37% got the right answer, "Chopping off the leg"

According to the Associated Press, two men attacked 80-year-old Yanadi Kondaiah, self-proclaimed holy man in southern India and chopped off his right leg, apparently believing it had magical powers, police said Thursday. They should be easy to find. Look for the guys carrying a really large key chain with the lucky holy man foot on it.