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Detective TV Show Spoof, Part Two

9/29/2014

This is part two of a short script I wrote as a spoof of common #TV #detective shows. I reformatted it to make it a little shorter. I hope you get a laugh from it. If you missed the first part, scroll down.

MARTHA: Get in!

Chris gets into the car and Martha speeds off after Bill.

CHRIS: How did you get here so fast?

MARTHA: Special effects.

CHRIS: That’s a different outfit. What’s with the mini-skirt? You usually wear pantsuits.

MARTHA: The director wants to show off my legs.

CHRIS: Well, you look fantastic. How come your hair is perfect and now you have makeup on? Where did you find the time?

MARTHA: Look! Can we hold off on the interrogation until we catch this guy? You know damn well that we shot the hotel scene yesterday. Today is the car chase scene. Besides, my contract says I have to look good. The studio has to give me six close up headshots every episode.

CHRIS: Don’t lose him.

MARTHA: You always say that. I never lose them. Now go ahead and say the other word.

CHRIS: What other word?

MARTHA: You know damn well. Every car chase scene you say it.

CHRIS: Faster?

SERIES OF SHOT—TYPICAL CAR CHASE SCENES

Cars skid around corners and run other cars off the road. More police cars join the chase. Finally, Bill’s car crashes—flipping over a dozen times and exploding in flames. Bill emerges unhurt with his hands up. The police are so ticked they shoot him anyway.

CHRIS: (removes Bill’s wallet) Let’s see who this guy really is. (opens wallet) His driver’s license says his name is Bill Smith.

MARTHA: What the...? Wait a minute.(takes out the hundred dollar bills and holds them up to the light) I guess the joke on me. These bills aren’t phony after all. My bad.

Chris takes out his service pistol and points it at Martha.

MARTHA: What are you doing? What’s going on?

CHRIS: Come on Martha. You have been around long enough to know that when the studio does not renew your contract, the writers write you out of the series. You contract expires next week.

MARTHA: Don’t do it, Chris. If we stick together, we can both get better contracts.

CHRIS: Too late. I already signed my new contract. I get a bedroom scene and eight close up headshots in every episode. Goodbye, Martha. It’s been great working with you.

MARTHA: Wait! The studio will never find a replacement for my character by next episode.

CHRIS: They have already. You remember that young woman that we hired as an intern two episodes ago?

MARTHA: You mean that 20 something with the silicone breasts?

CHRIS: Uh, yeah, that one. In the next episode she is promoted to detective first class and takes your place.

MARTHA: No! If you shoot me, I will never work with you again. Do you know what that means?

CHRIS: Sorry, Darling, but it’s in the script. I don’t have to know what it means.

Chris shoots Martha three times. He walks over to her body and shoots her in the head for good measure.

The End

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Detective TV Show Spoof, Part One

9/27/2014

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Here is a short script I wrote as a spoof of common TV detective shows. It’s a little long for a blog, so I’ll post it in two parts. I reformatted it to make it a little shorter. I hope you get a laugh from it.

Typical hotel bedroom. Man and woman in bed making love. The woman is on top. Camera shots from six different angles. Close up on MARTHA ANDREWS’ face.

Cut to front of hotel. CHRIS ANDREWS enters, walks through lobby, takes elevator to 44th floor, walks down hallway, stops at a room, takes out a set of burglary tools and picks the lock. Opens door and walks in.

CHRIS: Martha?

MARTHA: Chris! Don’t you ever knock?

CHRIS: Martha! What is going on?

MARTHA: (jumping out of bed and pulling a sheet around herself) Don’t be stupid. You can see what is going on. Or can’t you remember?

CHRIS: Why, Martha? I love you. I will forgive you.

MARTHA: I love you too. I will always love you. I am just not in love with you.

CHRIS: What the hell does that mean?

MARTHA: I don’t know. It’s in the script. I just read the lines. I do not have to understand them.

CHRIS: Who is this guy?

MARTHA: Who? I’ll tell you who. It is a man who loves me. He loves me for who I am, not who he expects me to be. He loves me for myself. He is concerned about my emotional needs. He treats me with respect, not like some trophy wife.

CHRIS: No, I mean what is his name?

MARTHA: If you must know, he name is John.

BILL: Actually, my name is Bill. Bill Smith

CHRIS: Yeah, right.

MARTHA: Shut up Bill! Keep out of this. This is between my husband and me.

BILL: (getting out of bed) I didn’t realize you were married. Perhaps, I should go. (starts to get dressed)

MARTHA: No, stay. I’ll get rid of him.

BILL: I have to get back to work anyway.

CHRIS: Why him?

MARTHA: (starts to get dressed) He is twice the man you are.

CHRIS: That’s because he must weigh 500 pounds.

BILL: Please! I weigh 450 pounds and not a pound more.

CHRIS: How could you, Martha?

MARTHA: Well, I have to stay on top.

CHRIS: No, I mean how could you do this to me?

Martha gives Chris a quizzical look.

CHRIS: I am talking about our marriage. How could you do this to our marriage?

MARTHA: Oh. Come on! We have been married for two weeks. How long did you expect me to be faithful?

CHRIS: Longer than two weeks.

MARTHA: You should have said something.

BILL: Do the words, forsaking all others mean anything to you?

MARTHA: No. Should they?

CHRIS: They were part of our marriage vows.

MARTHA: Again, if it was in the script, I don’t have to know what it means.

BILL: How much do I owe you?

MARTHA: Two hundred. Same as last week.

BILL: Will I see you again?

MARTHA: Of course. Next week. Same time.

Bill hands Martha two one hundred dollar bills. They kiss.

BILL: See you next week.

Bill exits. Martha holds one of the bills up to the light.

MARTHA: Stop him! These bills are counterfeit!

Chris pulls out his gun and runs after Bill. He sees Bill get into an elevator but the doors close before he can stop it. Chris runs down 45 flights of stairs and exits in the basement. He then runs up one flight of stairs to the first floor. He searches the lobby frantically. He sees Bill outside getting into a car. He runs outside just as Martha pulls up in a corvette.

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The US Should Vote to Eject Some States from the Union

9/25/2014

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I read with interest about a poll conducted by #Reuters that found that 23.9% of American would like for their state to secede from the #USA with #Texas leading the pack. Now before anyone starts to worry about the USA getting smaller, let’s consider the opposite side of that coin. What if the rest of the country voted to separate certain states? I’m not sure if “separate” is the correct term. Maybe eject or disaffiliate are better terms. Here are my nominations for possible ejection from the Union:

1. Texas. If those cowboys aren’t happy US citizens, the rest of us should vote them out of the Union. Putting #GeorgeBush in the #WhiteHouse should be reason enough. Then there is all the nonsense with guns and shootings. Remember JFK? Remember when Texas tried to sue #Oprah because she made a remark about not eating beef? I can think of no better way to solve the border situation than to make Texas a separate country. Let them deal with it.

2. #California. California is home to more stupid people than the whole rest of the USA excluding Texas. Just consider the #Kardashians and #JustinBieber. I think Kim Kardashian’s ass could be a separate country. People should need a passport to go there. Need I name more? Okay. This is the state that elected Arnold #Schwarzenegger governor. Let’s not forget Bob #Filner, the former mayor of #SanDiego. California is practically a separate country already. Does the rest of the country really want these people to be considered US citizens?

3. #RhodeIsland. Rhode Island is the appendix of the United States. Does anyone know what it does? Why do we need it? It is so small that its loss would not be noticed.

4. #Canada. Why is this state even part of the US? Oh, wait. It isn’t? Never mind. There are so many famous people from Canada living in the US that I thought they were already a state. Maybe we should vote to add it.

5. #Alaska. One word: #SarahPalin. Need I say more? No, wait - that’s two words. Does anyone want her to run for President again? Then let’s eject Alaska so she can’t run for election.

I am sure you have your own nominations. Let’s hear them.

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Bestselling Dead Author

9/22/2014

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I know that I have published this story before, Bestselling Dead Author, but I love it. Enjoy.

Joe Regan was a writer. His suicide note wasn’t his best piece of work. It read simply, Farewell cruel world. Joe took all the sleeping pills and sat down in his recliner. When he opened his eyes again, he was looking into the face of his agent, Bernie Blackwell.

Bernie smiled and brushed back Joe’s hair. “Hey.”

“Hey. Oh, my head hurts.” Joe looked around. “Where am I?”

“You’re in St. Thomas Hospital. I found you and called 911. The doctors pumped your stomach. You’ve been in a coma for five days, man.”

“Oh. I don’t know if I should thank you or not. I just wanted to die.”

“I know, man. I found your note. Why did you do it?”

Joe smiled. “You’re my agent. I think you know why. My novel has been rejected by 45 publishers and I haven’t earned a dime in three years.”

Bernie chuckled. “It’s 47 publishers now. I didn’t get a chance to tell you about the last two. However, while you were in a coma, I’ve been busy. I posted your suicide note on a few key social media web sites and wrote what a tragedy it was since your novel is so great.”

“My suicide note? I didn’t say much in my note.”

Bernie smiled. “Yeah, well, I sort of rewrote it. I also went ahead and published the e-book version of your novel. It is going viral. We sold over 10,000 copies in four days. We now have offers from three publishers. I think if you had died, your novel would make the bestsellers’ list.”

“Lucky me! I have to nearly kill myself for my novel to sell.”

“Joe, what do you expect? You wrote a romance novel about gay pygmies living in San Francisco-not a great genre. Anyway, since you really don’t want to live, would you consider killing yourself? It would mean a lot to me. I could help.”

“What! My novel is finally published and you want me to kill myself? Are you crazy?”

Bernie shrugged his shoulders. “No big deal. Come on, get up. I brought a wheelchair. I,m taking you out of here.” He handed Joe a glass of water and some pills. “Here, take these.”

Joe took the pills with the water. With Bernie’s help, he got into the wheelchair. Bernie wheeled Joe out of ICU and headed for the elevators. He pushed the up call button for the elevator.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m taking you to the tenth floor. The second elevator is out of service. I should be able to open the doors there.”

“Bernie, I don’t feel so good. What were those pills?”

”Sleeping pills.”

“I took four. Am I supposed to take that many?”

“No, man. You’re supposed to take only one every 12 hours.”

“Won’t that kill me?”

“No. It’ll make you comatose. In your condition, you won’t notice that the elevator isn’t there. The fall from the tenth floor will kill you.”

“But Bernie, I don’t want to die any more. I want to live.”

“Listen, man. I’m telling you. If you die, we’ll make the bestsellers’ list. We’ll be able to negotiate a big contract. We’ll attract more talented writers.”

“We? I’ll be dead.”

When the elevator arrived, Bernie rolled the wheelchair inside and pushed the tenth floor button.

“Well, yeah,” said Bernie. “Quit thinking about yourself for once. Did you even once consider me? This is my big break. When I post your next suicide note, I’ll sell a million copies of your novel. Plus, I’m sure I can get a six figure advance for your next novel.”

“My next novel? I never wrote a second novel.”

“It’ll be found among your things after your death.”

“Bernie, don’t do this. I don’t want to die.”

“Quit being selfish! Close your eyes now and rest. It’ll all be over in a few minutes. You’re going to be a bestselling author. Congratulations.”

So, did you enjoy it? Send me a comment. -Monte

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The F-word is No Longer Political Correct

9/15/2014

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It’s official now - the F-word, or least that variation of it that ends in “er” is a racist word and politically correct and/or sensitive people can no longer use it.

In a recent research study, an ethnic group called the F*#%ers has been identified. Genealogists were surprised at their findings and how this ethnic group survived so long without recognition as a distinct ethnic family. Apparently, they have existed in plain sight for centuries all over the world. They blend in well since they are not of any distinct color or do they have any distinguishing features. There are mother F*#%ers, father F*#%ers, little F*#%ers, and even stupid F*#%ers. The stupid, mother F*#%er, a much rarer variation, also exists.

Many live and work in Washington D. C., but researchers found them in most state capitals. Many elected officials are F*#%ers. A disproportional number work for the DMV in most states. They seem to be attracted to jobs that require a great deal of red tape and bureaucracy. They are well suited for managerial positions. Few actually acknowledge that they belong to the ethnic group, but there is no doubt that they are F*#%ers.

One researcher, who asked not to be identified for fear he might turn out to be a F*#%er, says that he is happy that the work to identify all the F*#%ers can now begin, because many of the F*#%ers do not know that they belong to the family of F*#%ers.

We welcome this latest ethnic group and wish them well. In all fairness, it would not be correct to label someone as a F*#%er until the genealogists complete their work. However, many F*#%ers are self-evident by their life style. Research will confirm this one way or another.

PS. during my research, one of the genealogists checked my DNA, and it turns out that I am a

F*#%er too. What a surprise. Who knew?

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More Guidelines for Stupid Criminals

9/12/2014

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I often blog to try and help stupid criminals stay out of trouble by providing guidelines, but stupid criminals are so ubiquitous that it seems to be an overwhelming task. I will try once more. I just read about these incidents:

Massachusetts police arrested a man who broke into a home and cooked himself some corn on the cob. He was charged with breaking and entering with intent to commit a felony and assault and battery (salt and butter?). The report did not state what happened to the corn. I can only assume that the police ate it.

New York State Police arrested a man after he was found with marijuana, cocaine and LSD hidden inside a stuffed lion doll wearing a D.A.R.E. shirt. He was charged with criminal possession of a controlled substance and unlawful possession of marijuana. You have to admit that it was a clever attempt to hide the drugs. Does that make the stuffed lion a mule?

Police in Tennessee arrested man after dispatchers heard him discussing drugs on an accidental 911 call. (Butt dial?) He was charged with possession of drug paraphernalia.

Police in Florida arrested a man who broke into a house to steal and fell sleep next to a bag of jewelry he was stealing. He was charged with charged with burglary.

Police in Michigan arrested a woman who was shoplifting in Walmart and tried to get away in a motorized wheelchair shopping cart. She was charged with shoplifting.

Here are some more rules for stupid criminals:

1. If you are going to burglarize a house, get to it. Do not stop to cook or sleep.

2. Criminals and cellphones don’t mix. Between butt dialing, discussing drugs while on the phone and selfies taken with stolen goods, it never ends well. Leave the cellphones at home, your home – not the victim’s home.

3. Plan your getaway well. A motorized wheelchair is not the best getaway vehicle.

4. Get a good night’s sleep before you burglarize. The average burglar needs at least eight hours of sleep.

5. Try to be inconspicuous while shoplifting. Using a motorized cart is not inconspicuous.

6. Hide your drugs well. Do not use stuffed animals

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Unsolved Mysteries Needed to Be Solved

9/7/2014

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I read with interest the news that the mystery of the moving rocks of #DeathValley National Park, CA has been solved. Two guys from the University of #California, San Diego, proved that these "sailing rocks" are propelled by light winds across the former lake bed at 15 feet per minute. I will sleep better at night just knowing that there is one less unsolved mystery. Here are some more unsolved mysteries in need of resolution:

1. Kim #Kardashian’s butt. How did it get so big and what is the fascination with it?

2. Why do we drive on the parkway and park on the driveway? This mystery keeps me up at night.

3. Why do #Congressmen get paid for doing nothing? Most employees would be fired for doing so little and yet congressmen still are being paid. It’s a mystery.

4. How does the Mayor of #Toronto, #RobFord, stays in office? He’s like the Energizer Bunny. He just keeps screwing up and going and going but stays in office. He must have dirty pictures on everyone else.

5. When will #JustinBieber grow up? He’s no longer a child but still acts like one.

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Not-So-Subtle Clues that your Relationship is in Trouble

9/4/2014

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1. Your significant other calls you by the wrong name.

2. Your talking parrot calls you by the wrong name.

3. Your significant other gets a restraining order on you.

4. You come home and find a note on the table that says, “Here’s the antidote. Take it quickly.” But there’s nothing else there.

5. You find a thong in the laundry, but you don’t know who owns it.

6. Some of your Viagra pills are missing.

7. You find a man’s comb in the bathroom, but you’re bald.

8. Your kids say they like uncle/aunt Ralph/Mary but you don’t know any Ralph/Mary.

9. Your pillow smells like aftershave/perfume, but you don’t shave/use that perfume.

10. Your neighbors ask when did you buy a new car, but you didn’t.

11. You come home to find your clothes on the front lawn.

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Foreign Policy Critics Focus on President Obama’s Khaki Suit

9/1/2014

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(Note for the humorously challenged: This posting is sarcasm.) President #Obama caught a lot of flak (pun intended) when he held a press conference wearing a khaki colored suit and stating that the US had no strategy on #ISIS. Several people thought that the khaki suit was inappropriate in spite of the fact that khaki is the color of many #military uniforms. Nothing says that #America means business about our foreign policy than a khaki colored business suit (what??) does. Apparently, the President thought that the USA was still a free country where citizens can wear whatever they wish and that right is protected by the Bill of Rights as a freedom of expression (no matter how distasteful to others).

In spite of whatever the fashion critics may say, the President was actually following a time honored tradition. When George Washington made his famous farewell address to his officers, he was criticized by some fashion critics because his powdered wig was off white and not pure white according to the dictates of the then fashion codes. In his own defense, George said that during his encampment at Valley Forge, it was difficult to get the smoke out of his wig and he didn’t want to buy a new one while his men were freezing to death and starving.

It is a little known fact the one of the first and few bills vetoed by Washington called for the formation of a National Fashion Police. Since then, most fashion critics have gone clandestine and occasionally raise their ugly heads to criticize some hapless chap who falls into their cross hairs. Then they turn right around and claim they have the right to criticize fashion as a freedom of speech while denying that same right of expression to those subjected to their criticism.

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