I'll Direct You As We Go

Chicago, IL

Date -  May, 11

Time - 10:35 PM

From - Lutheran General Hospital

To - 5618 105th St

Charge - $157.10

10.35 pm

     “We’re going to the South Side. Just head for the turnpike, I’ll direct you as we go. But don’t worry about that right now. Just drive to the nearest liquor store. No, don’t think about it. Just drive. Let’s go. I’m not going to lie, I’m an alcoholic and I need a drink right now. Yeah, that’s fine. Here’s a hundred bucks up front, just drive the damn car.”

 

10.40 pm

     “I’ll be right out. Fuck, that knee hurts. You’d think you could get a decent surgeon on the south side. Two minutes.”

 

10.43 pm

     “I’m not going to drink in the car don’t worry. I don’t want to get you in trouble. You seem like a good guy. No, it’s illegal even in a parked car. It’ll just take me a minute to finish this. You can keep the meter running. Actually, what’s it going to cost to get that thing turned off? Another forty bucks? Well, here’s sixty. Damn, that’s shitty vodka. You get what you pay for, right? You don’t have to worry about me puking in the car. I’ve been downing these pint bottles for a dog’s age. Let’s get going. Goddammit, fuck that knee.”

 

10.50 pm

     “Turnpike south. Dammit, I’m wasted and even I could remember that. You sure I shouldn’t be the one driving. Ha, no, I’m joking, you seem like a good guy. What was I talking about? Oh yeah, hell of an accident. This guy just blew through a red light and right into the driver’s side of my cruiser. They say I’m lucky to be alive. Easy for them to say. It wasn’t my fault and I wasn’t even on duty, so who gives a shit if I had had a few. They thought I was fleeing the scene, but I explained that it could have looked real bad for the department if a tipsy cop was spotted next to a car wreck.

Sergeant said this was the tipping point. That I’d been slipping for months. He’s just been bitter since his wife left him. Looking for any excuse to show his authority.”

 

11.00 pm

     “I’m telling you I notice things no one else does. There were just two women changing a tire on the side of the road. I bet you didn’t see them. Oh whatever, I’ll come up with a different example, you’ll see.”

 

11.13 pm

     “Yeah, so my mom freaks out, says she’d feel better if she came and stayed with me for a while. I told her I’m forty-three years old and I don’t need to be tucked in at night, but she just showed up. She finally went home last week, thank god. I feel horrible saying it, but I’m always relieved when she leaves. She’s just so…”

 

11.17 pm

     “No, I’m not saying I want to fuck my mom. That was just a hypothetical. You’re trying to go all Oedipus on me. Well, I’m not going to fuck her, but I did kill my father. Ha, just kidding. You didn’t expect me to know that Greek shit, did you? Sorry, I’m just messing around. Anyhow, listen, I’ll explain. You get along with your mom? Okay good, well I’m just saying you probably bicker with her sometimes, just like you do with a girlfriend, but the problem is you’re certainly not going to have the makeup sex with your mother so it just stays tense. Oh, you know what I’m saying, don’t make me into some sort of sick pervert.”

 

11.25 pm

     “So listen to this. My partner and I get an emergency b and e call. That’s breaking and entering. We get to the scene and a woman answers the door, quickly bringing us inside. Normally by the time we arrive at a b and e, the victims aren’t quite so frantic but are mostly just pissed off about what’s been stolen or broken. But when we get to her living room we see a pair of feet sticking out of the bottom of a rolled up area rug. The woman looks at us indignant-like, ’What? You think I was going to let him get away?’ Crazy right? But it gets better, when we start to unroll the rug we hear the sound of glass breaking and the burglar starts cursing like mad. We get him completely unrolled and we see that the lady has tied him up with a string of Christmas lights. A bunch of them have busted and cut him so he’s covered in blood and shards of multicolored glass. It’s hard not to smile but she says, ‘Don’t look at me like that. It’s not like I’ve got a few yards of rope just lying around. I had to improvise.’ I’ll tell you, I’m going to miss the calls like that.

     Yeah, get off the highway at the next exit and before we get home we’re going to need to make another stop.”

 

11.31 pm

     “Hey, I got you a Gatorade. You’ll need to stick to the soft stuff for a few more hours. Just one minute. Bleh, I can’t finish that. Hey. Hey buddy. Yeah, you over there. Want to finish this for me? No? Come on. Alright, your loss. You believe that? The bums won’t even take this rocket fuel.”

 

11.39 pm

     “Just pull into the lot up ahead. Thanks. Here’s another little something for you. You’re a good guy. Oh, you didn’t need to grab the bag for me. Well, thanks. Now listen, I would just shake your hand and I know this may sound strange, but I’m going to ask you for a hug. Take care of yourself, alright? I’m serious. You’re a good man. Goodnight.”

Yellow

Two people are talking. They are surrounded by The Simpsons paraphernalia. Like, everywhere - shelves, countertops, stacks on the floor. Lunchboxes and toys and comics and a plastic Kwik-E-Mart and a stuffed figure of Mr. Burns that looks like it was made without legal approval. 

"You'll still pick the kids up after soccer, right?"

"I said I would."

"Well, I just wanted to make sure."

"Don't start with that."

Troy McClure is still in the original packaging. On a sticker it says, "You might remember me from..."

"With what?"

"You know what you're doing; that passive aggressive thing you always do."

"I'm sorry."

"If you were sorry, you wouldn't keep doing it."

There's a poster of Martin Prince dressed like a fairy and holding a lute or some shit.

"So you're going to pick them up? I can reschedule my appointment if you're not going to."

"I'm on it. Go to your appointment. You don't have to worry. The kids will be driven home. They will be in their room doing homework by the time you're back."

This garbage is everywhere. Moe dressed like Santa Claus for some reason. There's not even an episode where that happened.

"Don't act like I'm doing something wrong. All I did was ask you a simple question."

"You're going to be late."

"Love you, honey."

"Love you, too."

Bart is wearing a blue (not orange) t-shirt on the backboard of a garbage can basketball hoop. He's on a skateboard saying, 'Cowabunga'.

John Doe (Kevin Spacey from 'Seven') Cleans His Apartment

So, it’s like a gag?

Yeah, picture it, Kevin Spacey as John Doe from Seven, with his fingerprints cut off and everything. Well, it’s not like he can have a maid come to his apartment, right? So, either the place is covered in dust or he cleans it himself. Now, imagine him stocking up on cleaning supplies and putting them in his creepy apartment. We’ll show the neon red cross over his bed and the bookshelves full of the composition notebooks. People will love it.

But it doesn’t really make you laugh.

Even the laundry room where he keeps the bleach is totally dark and creepy. Come on, that’s funny.

I mean, maybe as a visual, but there’s not really a punch line.

We can make it like a fake commercial or something. You know, “Even serial killers prefer Clorox.” I mean, we’ll work on the line, but that’s the idea.

Do you think people even remember the movie? It’s been almost twenty years, I’d say.

Come on. It sticks with you. I still hear people talking about that strap-on knife dick thing.

Ok. Which is better: Cleaning his place in the near darkness or in fluorescent lighting?

Where's the Magic?

-A little too much sex, I think.

-You told me you wanted something edgy.

-You said there'd be magic. Like, I get it, wizards need to bone too, but, like, this is smut.

-Didn't you like the Cauldron Scene? I mean, couldn't you picture that. And I know we can do that on a budget. I even know where we can get a cauldron. I think they still have the one they used in Witchcraft.

-Tell you what, ask around about the cauldron... I don't think we'll be able to get Jenna Reese.

-She's done nude before. Full frontal even. You can pitch it as art.

-She'll definitely veto the warlock montage. I mean, that's basically a gang bang.

-We can change the character. Give the role to an up-and-comer.

-So, it's like a sex comedy?

-Some action. Obviously on a budget.

-I just had an idea. Like, instead of grey wizard beards, we'll go with hipster beards. Oh oh. We could even have them dress in plaid.

-Umm.

-Oh! And the witches could be like alternative types. You know, tattoos and those nose rings in the middle and that. I mean, we'll have a few as traditional eye candy too. They can be the, um, what did you call them...

-The Wickens?

Second Date

- I might've told you this already, my cousin is a doctor, too.

- You did say that, yeah.

- Oh. Remind me, you have a brother, right?

- Sister. She's older. (Either he wasn't listening at all, or he has me confused with someone else.)

- (Wait, she's not the doctor, she works for that non-profit or whatever. I don't think she noticed, though.) That's right. You're pretty close, right?

- Yeah, she's the best.

- (Nice save)

They take a drink and their eyes wander the room. They place their glasses down simultaneously.

So, were-- 

- Um-- 

- Oh, sorry, you go ahead.

- No, it's okay. Really.

- (Eff) I was just going to ask if you were, um... sorry, that guy over there is totally weirding me out. He's got this tic, like, he keeps spasming.

- (We were really drunker than I thought. I'm amazed we could even have sex.)

They touch hands under the table. 

- Do you want another drink?

- Um... let's just get out of here.

They lean towards each other. He places his hand against her face. They kiss. 

- I'll call an Uber.

Typewriter versus Computer - Part One

Interior. Courtroom. A lawyer is questioning a Sea-Foam Green Remington Streamliner II. An IBM PC Model 5150 sits at the defense table. It hums audibly throughout the proceedings.

"You're honor, I'm simply trying to establish a basis for the physical strains put on my client in its routine function... May I continue?"

The judge nods.

"Thank you. Now, you were describing the re-inking process. Would you please continue?"

"Yes, thank you." As the typewriter speaks. It clickety-clacks with each syllable finishing its sentences with a *Ding* and sliding of the page bar. "Like I was saying, the factory recommends re-inking every six months. This process has been streamlined for my model, but it can still be problematic. This is because most users shirk the recommendation and delay the re-ink. By the time they finally decide to add ink, it's long overdue and the mechanics are gummed up. This leads to frustration on the users part."

"What would you say is the typical manifestation of this frustration?"

"Would you please clarify?" Clickety-clack. Ding.

"Of course. You say people become frustrated, is that correct?"

"Yes." Ding.

"And, when they become frustrated, how do they respond?"

"Well..." Pause as the typewriter makes a cranking sound while the reel spin. "Excuse me. Well, sometimes they curse. Sometimes they pound the table. Sometimes they will strike me." Ding.

"They strike you?"

Ding.

"Your honor, please have the court reporter register the witness's affirmation of the previous question."

The judge nods.

"So, would you say it is common for a user to become physically hostile towards you?"

Ding.