This is the opening of 'GLOBAL WARNING', a skit I wrote for The Young Principles Theater Group. The group is planning to put on a showcase of sketch comedy in either October or November. As soon as I know the actual dates, I'll let you know.
We haven't rehearsed this yet but I can't wait to see it come to life. I'll try to get some pictures - and maybe video - of the rehearsals.
The idea's been in my head for some time - maybe a month or so. It pretty much wrote itself in one train ride from Brooklyn to Manhattan. Bob Odenkirk and David Cross' Mr. Show came to mind as I scribbled the first draft of this in my notepad.
by Frank Reynoso
In the middle of the room is a simple, round table that looked like it was bought in Ikea. A pitcher of water and a couple of empty glasses sit in the middle of the table. Beside the pitcher is a tray with freshly backed cookies. The room is hot. Three men, in the middle of a tumultuous debate, sit around the table. Behind them are a couple of similar looking, empty tables. JERRY is a clean-shaven, thin, lanky dandy with a slouch. His body seems to get lost in his suit. Whenever he walks, he drags his feet. Jerry uses a handkerchief to wipe his brow. TOM is a thick-mustached, middle-aged, husky guy who looks like he played a lot of high school football and remained in that mentality. His movements are heavy and grave. His blazer is unbuttoned, revealing a barrel chest. He exhales often and heavily, using some papers to fan himself. GRAHAM is a slender, proud fifty-year-old man. His movements are grand; he strides whenever he walks. His silver hair caps his intense eyes and pronounce chin. Graham sits with his legs crossed and his blazer unbuttoned, cordially sipping his glass of water.
KARL enters. He’s a thirty-plus year-old, balding man, with thin-rimmed glasses and a heavy second chin. His pasty skin contrasts with his dark suit. He waddles to the excited men. The three rush to greet Karl. He smiles, hugs, pats shoulders and shakes hands with each. He motions them to sit down.
KARL: Please, continue your conversation while I settle in here. (chuckling and dabbing his brow with a kerchief): Tad warm in here.
The men take a seat and chuckle at Karl’s joke.
KARL (cont’d): My, my. The Lord is glad, as am I, to see four pillars of American spirituality gather like this. But please, go on.
Karl removes his blazer, drinks some water and sits at the head of the table.
JERRY (snickering): How about them homos and queers and lesbos? I always liked them.
TOM: We can’t. We’re still using them for New Orleans.
Karl opens his briefcase and pulls out folders filled with papers, which he places on the table before him. Graham turns to Tom.
GRAHAM (waving papers in Tom’s face as if about to slap him): C’mon, Tom. You’re hogging all the good ones. Well what about feminism? We haven’t had a good angry-bitch-feminazi campaign in a while. They’ll never see it coming.
(amused) It’ll spread like a California forest fire in the summer.
TOM: Jesus Christ, Graham. Feminazis? Cliché.
JERRY (tossing his file across the table): Out of season. Unless we can come up with a new spin on it, I’ll block your proposal.
Karl clears his throat and raises his hand as if he were about to do the laying-on-of-hands.
© Frank Reynoso Aug. 2007, All Rights Reserved