Wifi Kitty

So yeah, apparently I now only write comedy sketches. This one is based on a hilarious conversation. Enjoy.






INT. STUDIO APARTMENT - MIDDAY

RYAN bursts into the apartment, surprising his roommate,
NOZZLE, who is reading a magazine entitled, "Fuckbag Weekly."
Ryan is carrying with him a cage for small animals.

RYAN
Hey Nozzle, guess what?

NOZZLE
You've decided to kill yourself?

RYAN
Even better! I've gotten one of
those brand new wifi-enabled cats!

NOZZLE
Like the ones featured on those
late night mad science
infomercials?

RYAN
The very same!

NOZZLE
Well come on man, let's see it.

Ryan places the carrier on the table and opens the door. A
cat steps out. It is a normal goddamn cat.

NOZZLE (CONT'D)
I don't get it, it just looks like
a cat.

RYAN
Huh.

NOZZLE
I mean, does it have a screen, or
like a keyboard or something.

Ryan lifts up the cats tail.

RYAN
This might be a USB port.

NOZZLE
Well this blows.

RYAN
Yeah, I guess it was too good to be
true.

ANNOUNCER (V.O.)
Not so, guys!

RYAN
Really?

NOZZLE
Holy shit, you can hear him too?

ANNOUNCER
Your wireless-enabled cat may not
be like the computers you're used
to, but rest assured, it is fully
equipped to access the Internet
using all the latest wireless
standards.

NOZZLE
I thought I was going crazy.

RYAN
Alright, I can't wait!

NOZZLE
Last week, he told me to burn
things.

RYAN
So, how do I turn it on?

ANNOUNCER
That's the beauty of the wireless
cat. It's always on!

RYAN
Wow!

NOZZLE
I've been seeing a psychiatrist for
the last four years.

RYAN
So, how do I, like...
(quietly)
Use it?

ANNOUNCER
It's working right now!

RYAN
Wait, so I don't get to--

DING DONG! The doorbell rings!

ANNOUNCER
Hey, you'd better get that!

NOZZLE
Why do you hate me so?

ANNOUNCER
Sounds like your new kitty has
ordered you up something good!

RYAN
Oh boy!

He answers the door. A somewhat angry DELIVERY MAN hands him
a package.

DELIVERY MAN
Hey, here are your biscuits.

RYAN
Biscuits?

NOZZLE
Biscuits.

ANNOUNCER
Biscuits!

NOZZLE
The cat ordered biscuits?

RYAN
I guess?

NOZZLE
Are they cat biscuits?

ANNOUNCER
Nope, regular biscuits!

NOZZLE
Shut up!

ANNOUNCER
Bite me, asshole. Why don't you go
kill your family?

NOZZLE
Not this shit again.

RYAN
I don't understand. The cat orders
biscuits... over the internet?

NOZZLE
What kind of outfit sells biscuits
over the internet?

RYAN
I don't really like biscuits.

NOZZLE
Wait, who just paid for that?

RYAN
Does the cat do anything useful?

ANNOUNCER
Nope, it just orders biscuits!

NOZZLE
I mean, neither of us paid for it,
and I don't think the cat has a
source of income, as far as I know.

RYAN
What the fuck? Why does it do that?

ANNOUNCER
The cat isn't conscious of the
biscuit ordering process, it's just
the nature of its biology. In the
presence of wireless signals, it
will order biscuits.

NOZZLE
Was there some sort of fraud
involved? Are we party to fraud
now?

The doorbell rings again. Once again, the delivery man hands
Ryan another package.

DELIVERY MAN
Boy, you sure do love biscuits,
huh?

RYAN
No, I don't!

DELIVERY MAN
Sure you don't, buddy. But I've got
seven more deliveries today, and
all of them are for you.

RYAN
Why would I do that?

DELIVERY MAN
Hey, don't look at me, I just
deliver the things. You're the
biscuit-loving weirdo.

NOZZLE
Excuse me sir, who paid for these
biscuits?

RYAN
Wait, so you're just going to leave
now and come back seven times
today?

DELIVERY MAN
Yeah, it's our policy to only have
one delivery out at a time. Make
sure the biscuits are as fresh as
possible, you know?

NOZZLE
What is your business model? How do
you make money off mail-order
biscuits?

RYAN
Man, I hate this cat.

ANNOUNCER
You could kill it!

NOZZLE
Dude, it's telling you to kill the
cat!

RYAN
I'm not killing the fucking cat!

DELIVERY MAN
Whoa, what the hell are you two
talking about?

ANNOUNCER
He doesn't know, kill him too!

NOZZLE
You can't hear that?

DELIVERY MAN
Hear what?

ANNOUNCER
Kill the unbeliever!

NOZZLE
The disembodied voice that's
telling us to kill you.

ANNOUNCER
Make him suffer!

DELIVERY MAN
Jesus Christ, what the fuck is
wrong with you people? If you
weren't my best and only customers,
I'd be running the fuck away right
now.

RYAN
Look, I'm really sorry, but we
don't really want any more
biscuits, could you please just
take us off your list?

ANOTHER DELIVERY MAN appears at the door.

ANOTHER DELIVER MAN
Got an order of fresh biscuits
here.

DELIVERY MAN
Who the fuck is this?

NOZZLE
Holy shit, there are two door to
door biscuit delivery services in
this town?!

DELIVERY MAN
Oh, I see how it is!

RYAN
Damn it cat, stop ordering
biscuits!

The cat licks itself.

NOZZLE
I mean seriously, the demand has
just got to be ridiculously low.

Improbably, YET ANOTHER DELIVERY MAN appears.

YET ANOTHER DELIVERY MAN
Biscuits!

NOZZLE
HOW?!

RYAN
No! Just no, I don't have to take
this! All of you go away, now!

ANOTHER DELIVER MAN
Hey, do you want your biscuits or
not?

RYAN
No!

YET ANOTHER DELIVERY MAN
Wait a minute, if you didn't want
biscuits, then why did you order
from three different places?

DELIVERY MAN
That's what I'd like to know.

RYAN
I didn't order the biscuits, my cat
did!

DELIVERY MAN
That's the most ridiculous thing
I've ever heard!

ANOTHER DELIVER MAN
Yeah, do you really expect us to
believe that?

YET ANOTHER DELIVERY MAN
Pathetic, really.

Suddenly there is a loud commotion just outside the door. A
POLICEMAN shouts at the delivery men, and pushes them inside
the small apartment.

POLICEMAN
Alright then, everyone inside, and
nobody move!

RYAN
Oh god, what now?

POLICEMAN
We've received reports that some
sort of fraud is occurring at this
location.

NOZZLE
I knew it!

POLICEMAN
Aha! Well, spill it then, who's
committing the fraud?

NOZZLE
Um, we don't know, actually.
Possibly the cat?

POLICEMAN
Oh, so we've got a wise guy, eh?
Well I'll fix you good.

The policeman rolls up his sleeves, and begins advancing on
Nozzle, but before he can reach him, a SECOND POLICEMAN
bursts in.

SECOND POLICEMAN
Hold it right there, you!

POLICEMAN
What?!

SECOND POLICEMAN
This man is no policeman! He is an
imposter! He is a confidence
trickster, whose modus operandi is
to burst into a room and accuse the
inhabitants of fraud, and then
extort money from them once he
obtains a confession.

RYAN
Jeepers!

NOZZLE
That seems like it would have an
even lower rate of return than a
biscuit delivery service.

But then, a THIRD POLICEMAN enters the room.

THIRD POLICEMAN
Hold it right there, you two!

RYAN
Goodness, I am shocked again!

THIRD POLICEMAN
I'm afraid you two have been had.
You see, neither of these men are
police officers.

NOZZLE
You don't say.

THIRD POLICEMAN
No, you see they are in fact in
collusion, and what you have seen
today is all part of an intricate
and deadly confidence game. In
fact, you could call it... the
perfect con.

RYAN
The perfect con?!

THIRD POLICEMAN
That's right, the perfect con. But
that's not all! Everything that has
happened here has all been a part
of their dastardly plan. The
delivery men are shills, you will
find that the biscuit companies
they represent do not exist.

DELIVERY MAN
Your mother doesn't exist.

NOZZLE
Ha! I knew it! You faking fakers!

THIRD POLICEMAN
That's right, everyone knows that
the real biscuit delivery services
deliver their biscuits in the
morning, while the biscuits are
still fresh.

He reaches into his pocket and removes a biscuit, taking a
long, indulgent bite out of it.

NOZZLE
God damn it!

RYAN
What about the cat, was the cat in
on it too?

THIRD POLICEMAN
What's wrong with you? It's a cat,
how could it be in on it?

RYAN
Well, I just thought--

THIRD POLICEMAN
No, you didn't think, that's
exactly the problem.
Maybe next time you'll take your
time and pick your words carefully.

RYAN
I'm sorry.

THIRD POLICEMAN
The cat was, however, a prop in
their game. You see, there's no
such thing as a wifi-enabled cat.

He waits, seemingly expecting something.

THIRD POLICEMAN (CONT'D)
What, no gasps?

NOZZLE
It's actually not all that
surprising.

DELIVERY MAN
Neither is your mother.

NOZZLE
Hey, shut the fuck up.

RYAN
So wait, what about that announcer?

THIRD POLICEMAN
Oh, you mean--

He reaches behind the couch, and drags out the announcer by
his collar.

THIRD POLICEMAN (CONT'D)
This asshole?

RYAN
You! You've been behind our couch!

NOZZLE
For... four years?

ANNOUNCER
They call it the long con for a
reason, assholes.

RYAN
How did we not notice him back
there?

NOZZLE
Fuck if I know.

THIRD POLICEMAN
Gentlemen, you should consider
yourselves lucky that I showed up
when I did. You could have lost a
lot of money to these crooks.

NOZZLE
How, exactly?

THIRD POLICEMAN
Oooh, actually, you know what? I
just remembered I'm double parked.
Do either of you have 25 cents for
the meter?

RYAN
Oh, yeah.

Ryan withdraws a quarter, and hands it to him.

THIRD POLICEMAN
That's how, suckers! See you later!

DELIVERY MAN
Yeah, so long, douchebags!

POLICEMAN
You two really are stupid.

ANNOUNCER
You should vacuum behind your
couch, it's filthy back there.

They all exit the apartment, leaving Ryan and Nozzle alone
with the cat. They stand there for a few seconds, until:

FOURTH POLICEMAN
Hold it right there, you three!
Nobody-- Oh dear.

NOZZLE
Yeah, you just missed them.

FOURTH POLICEMAN
Oh man, did they already make the
score?

RYAN
Yeah, they took our quarter and
everything.

FOURTH POLICEMAN
Man, I hate those guys.

NOZZLE
Hey, cheer up, we just happen to
have one of those new wifi-enabled
cats.

FOURTH POLICEMAN
Really? Wow, I wish I had one of
those!

NOZZLE
I'd let it go for five bucks.

FOURTH POLICEMAN
You've got yourself a deal!

They run toward each other, the music swells, and they kiss.

THE END.

46 Pages of Penis Jokes

INT. BBC OFFICE - DAY

The old, stodgy BBC CONTROLLER sits at his desk, staring
coldly at the young hotshot writer sitting across from him,
our hero, BRIAN GUMPTION.

CONTROLLER
Mr. Gumption, do you know why I've
called you in here today?

BRIAN
Um, no sir, I can't say that I do.

CONTROLLER
It's about the reviews of your
show.

BRIAN
Oh, they're fantastic, aren't they?
People really seem to like it.

CONTROLLER
I'm afraid there's a problem with
them.

BRIAN
Problem?

CONTROLLER
I regret to inform you that your
program does not meet the
incredibly high standards required
here at the BBC.

BRIAN
I'm sorry, I just don't understand.
All the reviews I've seen have been
so positive.

CONTROLLER
It's not so much the quality of the
reviews, as their content.

BRIAN
The content of the reviews? All due
respect, but how exactly am I
supposed to control that?

CONTROLLER
Here, I'll read you an example.
(he picks one up)
'The BBC has commissioned a new
children's television program
following the exploits of a
mischievous little goblin named
Drummond Cox. Filled with marvelous
storytelling for the little ones,
Goblin Cox is sure to provide fun
for the whole family.'

BRIAN
Sounds pretty positive to me.

CONTROLLER
I don't think you're paying
attention to the right thing. Here,
let me read you a few more. 'Goblin
Cox is great fun.' 'Our family
couldn't get enough of Goblin Cox.'
'For entertainment, you could do a
lot worse than Goblin Cox.' 'Goblin
Cox is a great way for your kids to
spend an afternoon.'

BRIAN
See what I mean? They're all raves!
And they stayed on message too,
that's what's really important.

CONTROLLER
(sharply)
The problem with your series is its
title!

Brian is suddenly a bit taken aback.

BRIAN
The title? I don't get it. What's
wrong with Goblin Cox?

CONTROLLER
Everything! It's suggestive!

BRIAN
Well yes, it suggests the name of
the main character, and his status
as a goblin. You can't get any more
concise than that.

CONTROLLER
You know what I mean, Brian. We
can't bloody well have all the
entertainment magazines saying
things like, 'for my child, 3 p.m.
on Saturdays can't come fast enough
so he can start Goblin Cox.' It's
embarrassing.

BRIAN
Oh please, children can't be
excited about things? I know this
country has an image of being stuck
up, but--

CONTROLLER
Don't play dumb with me. I'm on to
you. You think you've gotten
something past us because we saw
the title and signed off on it, but
imagine my surprise when I turned
on my television this morning to
hear about how our children have
all been caught up in a 'fever of
Goblin Cox!'

BRIAN
It is sweeping the nation.

CONTROLLER
Not anymore it's not! I'm pulling
your show.

BRIAN
That's absurd! Pulling a show
because of its title!

CONTROLLER
It's not absurd when the title is
just a veiled reference to--
(under his breath)
Penises...

BRIAN
I BEG YOUR PARDON!

CONTROLLER
Well, it's true.

BRIAN
I fail to see how you can get
penises out of Goblin Cox!

CONTROLLER
I'm sorry Brian, the decision has
been made.

BRIAN
The public isn't going to stand for
this! Children love Goblin Cox!

CONTROLLER
That's another thing. It's not just
the title. I actually read one of
your scripts and it turns out
they're absolutely packed with
immature puns. It was nothing but
46 pages of penis jokes!

BRIAN
You sick bastard!

CONTROLLER
What?

BRIAN
You disgust me. Can't even read a
script for a children's television
program without perceiving all
manner of filth. Penises indeed!
Well I'm not going to let this show
get taken off the air for your
perversion. I say let the children
enjoy Goblin Cox!

CONTROLLER
Nobody. Is going to be enjoying.
Goblin. Bloody. Cox.

They stare daggers at each other across the desk, silently
seething, until:

BRIAN
Okay, fine.

CONTROLLER
Fine?

BRIAN
Fair enough, take it off the air.

CONTROLLER
Really?

BRIAN
Yeah, I never much cared for Goblin
Cox anyhow.

CONTROLLER
Hm, I thought you would offer more
resistance than that.

BRIAN
Well, it's my duty to serve the
public interest.

CONTROLLER
Very well then.

A beat.

BRIAN
Say, with Goblin Cox cancelled,
you've got a slot to fill, haven't
you?

CONTROLLER
Yes, I suppose we do.

BRIAN
Well, I've got this idea. It's
called 'Arse Ramming Battle
Buggers.'

CONTROLLER
Sounds delightful. Approved.

They shake hands, and Brian walks out with a smile on his
face.

The Gatekeeper?

Games of Winter

Well, it's officially the last day of the 2010 Winter Olympics(TM/MC), so this should be the perfect time to post my wrap up of the events of the last 16 days, and my final thoughts on this year's Olympics(TM/MC). Unfortunately, I cannot do this because I did not watch a single event, as the Olympics(TM/MC) are dreadful boring.

Seriously, what is up with the Olympics(TM/MC)? Who the hell watches the Olympics(TM/MC)? A lot of people, actually. Or at least, a lot of people follow it. But all it amounts to in the end is a sort of "my dad can beat up your dad" affair, with nations standing in for the parental units. Everyone's all a twitter(tm) about how many medals their country has, and how many golds, or silvers (bronze is for losers, nobody cares about bronze). The thing is, after all is said and done, and the epic pissing contest is over, nobody actually cares. Quick, how many gold medals did the US take in 1984? If you answered anything but, "I have no fucking idea," then I hate you.

So it is that every couple years, Olympic Fever(TM/MC/R/TFTP) absolutely sweeps the nation (I can't really speak for the world on this one. It's entirely possible that they have the same policy of going out of the heads for two weeks and then never speaking of it again, which would leave me with absolutely no point of reference for this sort of thing). We hear names of past champions, spoken with reverence, and then their names are sealed into a jar, and placed into a dark cellar, the door carefully locked from the outside, remaining unheard and un-uttered for four years until we once again steal into the cellar and excitedly pry all the jars open to bask in the raw blinding light of the names of these kings of athletes, like being in the presence of God(TM) himself for two glorious weeks!

Perhaps the Olympics(TM/MC) simply aren't my thing, you might say. Well, I might say, why don't you go cram some dicks into your mouth? Seriously, go eat a dick, and another dick, and another, until you have a thousand dicks in your mouth, and you choke to death on dicks. Or, to put it another way, shut up. Show me someone for whom the Olympics(TM/MC) are their thing. And don't tell me some athlete, that's like saying that the world paste eating championships are important because people train day and night so they can someday swallow gallons of paste in a single sitting and finally earn the recognition that they are exceptional at what they do. And if you have a problem with that example because I just made it up, then here is my rebuttal: dog shows. Just because you can fill a stadium doesn't mean that what you are doing is noteworthy.

And finally, lest you suggest that I am simply not classy enough to appreciate the Olympics, I shall remind you that I am hella classy. Of this there can be no doubt. Take, for example, this comic:











See? I totally could have had the ass holding the gun between its cheeks. But I didn't. Because I'm classy.

In conclusion, fuck the Olympics(TM/I-don't-even-care-about-this-joke-anymore).

He's the Fastest Thing Alive

Remember when I said that Super Mario Galaxy was a damned good Sonic the Hedgehog game? Well, there's a rumor going around that Sonic is going to be playable for one level of Super Mario Galaxy 2. I really hope this turns out to be true, because I suddenly look very smart. That's right, I called that shit two years ago, bitches.

Why am I wasting an entire blog post on this, instead of Twitter(tm)ing about it? The answer is simple. It's because I enjoy wasting your time.