About Last Weekend: Bad Sitcom VersionAP Photo/Jeff Roberson
(It’s Monday afternoon. Two friends, Ricky and Steve, sit on a couch playing a video game. A third friend, Mitch, bursts into the room breathlessly. They’re all in their early 30s. Between the three, every possible race is represented.)
Mitch: Guys! Guys!
(The others turn around in alarm, while Mitch pants to catch his breath.)
Ricky: Dude, you’re going to “blow out” your lung if you don’t settle down.
(Studio audience laughs. Ricky and Steve high-five.)
Mitch: Real funny, Ricky. Seriously, why aren’t you guys excited about this? It’s the Fall Classic!
Steve: We watched the games, Ricky. And even if we didn’t, we have the Internet. We already know this stuff. What, did you just get a telegram? Did the pony express deliver the results?
(Studio audience laughs. Mitch stews.)
Mitch: You know my wife won’t let me watch television or use the computer on weekends.
Ricky: Oh, right. You’re too busy with “gardening time.”
(Studio audience laughs.)
Mitch: IT’S A BEAUTIFUL GARDEN! THOSE PETUNIAS ARE THE ENVY OF THE NEIGHBORHOOD!
(Studio audience roars.)
Steve: Hey, Mitch looks like Lions coach Jim Schwartz after Jim Harbaugh shook his hand too hard following Sunday’s 25-19 49ers win, prompting a small melee on the field.
Ricky: Yeah, or like Tony Romo after Tom Brady and the Patriots overcame two interceptions to lead a game-winning fourth-quarter drive to beat Dallas 20-16.
Mitch: Why are you guys speaking so formally?
(Long pause. Studio audience grows uncomfortable.)
Steve: I … I don’t know.
Ricky: Why … why are you so … whipped by your wife?
Mitch: Ahmad Bradshaw rushed for 109 yards and three touchdowns as the Giants earned a big victory over the Buffalo Bills, 27-24.
Steve: Oh my God, you did it too.
Mitch: What? WHAT?!
(The group begins to panic.)
Ricky: Let’s all calm down. Let’s calm down, gather ourselves, and remember what’s important.
Steve: But what’s important? What matters?
Ricky: It’s important that Mitch’s wife is a shrew who makes him plant seeds and water the dirt all weekend.
Mitch: ONE MORE FLOWER JOKE, AND I SWEAR TO GOD I’LL PUT A BULLET IN YOUR LEG!
(Mitch pulls out a gun, studio audience gasps.)
Steve: Holy hell, man, why do you have a gun?
Mitch: Too long … it’s been too long. I come in here, you guys make your jokes about my wife, and I take it good-naturedly. No more, man. I’m feeling just like the Michigan State Spartans. Nobody gives them any attention, so they went out and beat rival Michigan for the fourth straight year, 28-14.
Ricky: Hey, just put the gun down. You’re right, you’re right … you’re Michigan State. Or you can be Oregon, who moved to 5-1 on the season with a 41-27 win over Arizona State despite missing LaMichael James.
Mitch: Okay. I’m sorry. I feel better. I feel good. Everything’s fine.
(Studio audience applauds.)
Mitch: And hey, at least I have a wife. You guys can’t even get a date.
Steve: Not true, my friend. Not. True. You know the girl at the office I like? She and I are going to the President’s Cup next month in Australia.
Ricky: That’s a business trip, dude. Your boss assigned you both to the job.
Steve: We’re staying in adjoining rooms, Ricky! Things could get hot and heavy!
(Studio audience goes “ooooohhhh!”)
Mitch: You know Tiger Woods is going to be there, right? Fred Couples chose him with the captain’s pick. Greg Norman thought it was a bad idea. He would’ve given it to Keegan Bradley.
Steve: What the hell are you talking about?
Ricky: Yeah, man. Shouldn’t you be knee-deep in soil, being hectored by that bitter old harpy you call a wife?
Steve: Seriously, Mitch, your wife is 46 years older than you.
Mitch: It’s a special relationship! We’re special! I don’t relate to women my age!
Ricky: You don’t relate to your wife, either, unless you collect Social Security every Friday and have fond memories of FDR.
(Studio audience laughs.)
Steve: To be fair, FDR was a pretty good—
Ricky: Oh my God, you shot me. You shot me in the leg.
Mitch: I promised you! I promised you I would! I love my aging wife! We’ll never get divorced, like Dodgers owner Frank McCourt and his ex-wife Jamie, who finally reached a settlement.
(Studio audience screams and hurries to leave the studio.)
Mitch: Nobody leaves! Nobody leaves!
Ricky: I’m done. My acting career is over. My leg is shot.
Steve: You’re like South Carolina running back Marcus Lattimore, who will miss the rest of the year with a knee injury suffered in Saturday’s win against Mississippi State.
Mitch: Shut up, Steve! I’m tired of speaking in sports blurbs! WHY DO WE ALWAYS SPEAK IN SPORTS BLURBS?!
Steve: Why did Kevin Durant say the NBA owners need to meet the players halfway in the ongoing labor dispute?
Steve: I can’t. I can’t stop any more than the Colts can stop their losing streak, which stands at six games this year after a 27-17 loss to the Bengals.
Steve: Oh my God, my leg. My leg.
Ricky: Is there a doctor anywhere? Doctor!! Who the hell makes up a studio audience? There can’t possibly be a doctor here, can there? No doctor would ever come watch a sitcom. We’re going to die here.
Mitch: I am the Messiah! I’ve decided I am the Messiah!
Steve: Yeah … the messiah of tulips.
Mitch: Hey, that was pretty funny.
Ricky: God, I am in so much pain.
Mitch: Yeah, man. That was really good. Quality joke.
Steve: Thank you. That means a lot to me.
Ricky: Can nobody hear me?
(Laughter picks up, quiet at first. As Steve and Mitch join in, the laughter grows until everyone is roaring.)
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