Sorry for the long hiatus, everybody. I’ve been hard at work doing stand-up and improv at school. Stay tuned for a stand-up album and a film adaptation of this sketch coming very soon.
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Tag Archives: comedy
Three Blind Rats
16 JulSCENE: (A bunch of lab rats are seated in a meeting room. An important-looking rat (just go with it) is directing the group and reading off a clipboard. His nametag reads: Mr. Whiskers – Manager)
MR. WHISKERS: Alright, we just got some new jobs that we need to assign. Let’s see, we got a diabetes medication. Anyone feel like testing a diabetes medication?
OTHER RAT (from crowd): Sure, I’ll do it.
MR. WHISKERS: Thanks for showing the initiative. That’ll make a great resume builder. This next one is a toughie. Who’s ready to contract ebola for the next 6 weeks?
(A young rat eagerly raises her paw from the back row.)
MR. WHISKERS: Candance, we both know you’re not ready for this. This ebola project requires a rat with some experience.
(A salty, old rat raises a leg.)
MR. WHISKERS: Bruce, perfect. Hey, if you’re still alive after this one let me know how it goes. Alright, I’ve got another really good opportunity here if you’re interested. Anybody want to get injected with a scorching case of herpes?
(Nobody volunteers.)
MR. WHISKERS: Come on, guys. Jerry, didn’t you do the pubic lice study last year? You’re perfect for this.
(Jerry reluctantly and wordlessly consents.)
MR. WHISKERS: Thanks, Jerry. I’ve always seen you as a herpes kind of rat. Let’s see, next we got a new lipstick that needs to be rubbed in somebody’s eyes. Who’s going to step up?
(No rats volunteer.)
MR. WHISKERS: Somebody’s gotta do it, guys. Anybody want to get some brownie points?
(Room remains silent. Mr. Whiskers sighs, exasperated.)
MR. WHISKERS: I’ve been holding my tongue on this one for a while, but the lack of work ethic around here is really starting to chap my ass. Too bad ChapStick already tested their product so I can’t even get some of it for my own heinie. Let me tell you, if you don’t want this cosmetic job, there are plenty of rabbits, guinea pigs, and monkeys that’ll happily take it instead.
(Room does not appear persuaded.)
MR. WHISKERS (tone more somber): Look, I know all of you wish you could be hanging out as some plucky seven-year-old’s pet, eating yourself to death and passing time until the little sucker comes to pick up your feces. But we can’t all have that. My brother, he really wanted that life. And you know where he is now? Snake food! So suck it up. I’d take this lipstick job if I could, but I’m currently assigned to an uppity little urologist whose “research” consists of neutering me into oblivion. (deep breath) I need one of you guys to pick up the slack on this one. Please.
(One of the rats volunteers.)
MR. WHISKERS (more relaxed): Thank you very much. Lastly, we have your classic maze set-up. Do it right, you get a piece of cheese. Do it wrong, they’re gonna shock the bejeezus out of you. Anybody like to gamble?
Brave New World Cup
12 JunAs the World Cup kicked off today in Brazil, EA announced their new corresponding videogame, FIFA World Cup 2014. Gamers everywhere have been eagerly awaiting the release, in large part due to a bevy of new features. Some of the most anticipated include:
Realistic Sound Effects: What’s that roar? Is that the fans cheering you on? No, it’s a massive throng of protestors right outside the stadium! With advanced digital technology, this game produces the most accurate rubber bullet-on-flesh sound ever.
Possum Mode: This highly requested feature lets the user flop all over the pitch, just like their favorite football star! Just a few button taps and you’ll be on the ground, rolling and writhing like there’s no tomorrow. You can play dead on a slide tackle, a rough hit, or even just because someone looked at you funny.
New Weather Settings: In FIFA World Cup 2014, you can choose between sunny, cloudy, rainy, or a light hail that’s actually shoddy concrete falling on your head.
Advanced Coaching: Coaching your team just got even more realistic. You can do more than just sub players or design plays. If your team’s down for the count, just call over a referee and organize a bribe. Wait, can we write that on here? Eh, everyone already knows it’s happening.
Improved Fan Noise: We’ve done away with the muffled rumble of previous games. Now, you can hear 80,000 people screaming racist chants crystal clear! Every epithet will come through with such unparalleled definition, you’ll feel like a banana hit you in the head.
Right On
2 Mar(A girl is driving a car with her friend in the passenger seat. The passenger is giving directions. They approach an intersection.)
DRIVER: Left up here?
PASSENGER: Right.
DRIVER: Right?
PASSENGER: Left.
DRIVER: Left?
PASSENGER: Right.
DRIVER: Oh, right.
PASSENGER: Left…
DRIVER: Left?
PASSENGER: Right.
DRIVER: Right, right.
PASSENGER: Left!
DRIVER: Left, right?
PASSENGER: Right, left.
DRIVER: Right.
PASSENGER: Left! LEFT LEFT LEFT!
DRIVER: Left.
PASSENGER: Right.
DRIVER: Right?
PASSENGER: Left.
DRIVER: Left.
PASSENGER: Alright?
DRIVER: All left.
Eggheads
26 Feb(A teacher is seated at his desk in front of a class. The students prepare to deliver history presentations.)
TEACHER: Thanks for having these presentations ready, guys. I know they seem like a pain now, but they will really help you in life. I promise you that.
STUDENT: Rutherford B. Hayes was a main proponent of Reconstruction in the Deep South.
TEACHER: It’s so important – sorry to interrupt. It’s so important to be able to speak to your peers like this. It really is.
STUDENT: Rutherford B. Hayes was a main proponent of Reconstruction in the Deep-
TEACHER: Like, you walk into the teacher’s lounge everyday and that smug geek from the math department’s eating your sandwich again. You need to talk to him and clearly let him know how you feel. That’s why I have you do these speeches.
STUDENT: Rutherford B. Hayes was a main proponent of Reconst-
TEACHER: He totally knows it’s your sandwich, too! Every day, he just forgets that the egg salad in the Tupperware with my name on it isn’t his. Like who does that?
STUDENT: Rutherford B. Hayes was a main prop-
TEACHER: And you walk in there and he’s standing by the fridge with that smug little grin. He’s got egg salad all around his mouth and he’s just looking at you like he’s got his hand in the cookie in the jar. At that point, in these circumstances, you just need to stand up and say something, am I right? That’s why we do this in class. To prepare for you crap like this.
STUDENT: Rutherford B. Hayes was a ma-
TEACHER: And then the next day, he doesn’t even that audacity to hide the sandwich. He’s parading the egg salad around so everyone can see his conquest. He’s got a mischievous little twinkle in his eye and you walk right up to him and you’re about to give him a piece of your mind, when he just wipes that defiled shell of a sandwich right underneath my nose.
STUDENT: Rutherford B. Hayes-
TEACHER: He’s drawing me into the ring. He’s the pauncey matador luring the bull into the ring. But this bull isn’t just going to scratch the dirt and snarl. I came to play.
STUDENT: Rutherford B. Hay-
TEACHER: I throw the chump against the refrigerator and I start shoving the egg salad into his face. And he’s breaking into a cold sweat and staring into my eyes like they’re two smoking gun barrels. I’m there feeling pure power, every little cog in my toned physique creating me into one massive, pulsing muscle.
STUDENT: Rutherford B-
TEACHER: Looking past his eyes and into his soul, I know that this coward has already surrendered. Silently, he’s telling me, “I always knew it was yours. It was your name on the Tupperware. It was your egg salad.”
STUDENT: Rutherfo-
TEACHER: He has surrendered, but I am merciful. I take my arm off his throat, waving the sandwich in the air as a glorious flag of victory.
STUDENT: Ruthe-
TEACHER: Meanwhile, the entire teaching faculty has gathered around. Inspired by my swift and righteous act of justice, they stand behind me in unwavering support. Breaking the deafening silence, the principal, “Now, tell him off once and for all!”
STUDENT: Ru-
TEACHER: In my mind, I prepare the most elegant, graceful, and passionate piece of oratory this world has ever known. Supreme in its diction, unparalleled in its passion, I bask in the glory of this moment.
STUDENT: (breath)
TEACHER: I steady my breath, plant my feet, and prepare to bring this sad sack to his knees with the thundering force of the spoken word.
STUDENT: So, what’d you end up saying?
TEACHER: Oh, I just walked away. I don’t do well at public speaking.
Service Club Annual Appeal
17 FebDear Prospective Donor,
As you likely know, the Repairing the World Club at our school sponsors and annual service trip to an area in need. In recent years, our eagerness to serve has carried us to the mucky jungles of Nicaragua, to the barren expanses of Kenya, and even the bracing foothills of Nepal. In all of these places, the value of our efforts could be easily seen in the gracious smiles of those we were helping.
Keeping with tradition, our trip this year will occur in a region of tremendous need. Allow me to paint an image in your mind: The piercing cracks of street violence echo through fetid streets. Mothers cry out for their children as the innocent youth shriek in anguish. Friends and neighbors spill blood for mere scraps of food, and sometimes resort to consuming each other when there is nothing else to eat. The wounded trample the throats of the fallen as they run toward dusty and crowded hospitals, praying that the untrained doctor’s blades will be swift as he haphazardly amputates. Over this chaotic scene presides a cruel and merciless tyrant who spits in the faces of his subjects from his gilded throne.
Clearly, Toronto has problems too endemic and overgrown for the native people to handle. The Repairing the World Club has to extend a life-rope to those drowning in the cesspool of Toronto with this year’s mission trip. Unfortunately, traveling to this remote and dangerous locale is prohibitively expensive. We require your financial assistance to bring the gift of charity to the Torontonians.
This trip will challenge the integrity of our determination and our capacity for empathy. We do not know how it feels to live and work under the world’s most whimsical mayor. We can not begin to understand the harshness of winter in the most efficient municipality at snow removal. How many tears have been shed in the cleanest city in Canada? How many dreams have been shattered living in America’s hat? How does it feel to pay more for hospital parking than for healthcare?
This year in Toronto, we resolve to make a change. We resolve to to empower, we resolve to engage, and we resolve to resolve. Resolving to resolve cracks in our resolve will resolve things in need of resolving. You too can be a part of this magical giving experience with a check made payable to: “The Repairing the World Club Beer Party/Paintball Retreat Fund”. We thank you in advance for your generosity.
Sincerely,
Alexandra Moraine
Fundraising Chair
Repairing the World Club
Beer Party/Paintball Retreat Committee
Which Supreme Court Justice Are You?
28 JanAre you the life of the party like Ruth Bader Ginsberg? Or are you the guy your friends trust all their secrets with like Clarence Thomas? Maybe you’re the class clown just like Stephen G. Breyer! Take this fun quiz and find out which member of the bench you are!
1. People would describe your courtroom conduct as:
a. stern but fair.
b. firm but sincere.
c. rigid but just.
2. The justice to your left says a funny joke! You:
a. giggle once, inaudibly.
b. slightly raise the corners of your mouth.
c. exhale.
3. It’s Casual Friday at the office! You wear:
a. a black robe. (Classy!)
b. a bedazzled black robe. (Unique!)
c. a black robe with nothing underneath. (Flirty!)
4. In your high school yearbook, you were voted:
a. Most Likely to Enter Jurisprudence
b. Neatest Hairstyle
c. Closet Babe
5. When you walk down the street, it feels like:
a. 78% of the country doesn’t know who you are.
b. 84% of the country doesn’t know who you are.
c. 92% of the country doesn’t know who you are.
6. The best part about being a justice is:
a. the unparalleled job security.
b. the group camaraderie.
c. the paparazzi attention.
If you answered mostly As, you’re one of the Supreme Court Justices! (We’d say which one, but we can’t name one either.)
Hot Like Fire Sauce®
12 JanSome authors have become fabulously wealthy off their work. Much to my chagrin, I have not. But rather than keep chipping away at this humor thing until it pans out, I’ve decided to make my fortune off a single work: a supermarket-shelf romance. As brick-and-mortar book stores die in America, supermarkets are still going strong, meaning my book will reach the maximum audience possible. So, without further ado, I present a portion of my monetary chef d’oeuvre, Taboo: A Taco Bell Love Story.
Chapter 8: Passion Hot as Fire Sauce™
The pallid glow of fluorescent lighting glinted off her auburn hair, greasy and lifeless like an unopened case of burrito lettuce. I stared deep into her eyes as I bit into a Chalupa Supreme®, and a moist wad of sour cream dripped clumsily down my chin. Suave and smooth, I wiped it on the sleeve of my hoodie. She signaled her affirmation with a girlish grin.
Slowly, I began to put my mouth around the object of my affection; the Fiery Doritos® Locos Taco Supreme was everything I’d hoped it would be. Pausing momentarily, I wondered which was more delightfully curvaceous – her body or this taco shell? Both made me salivate excessively. Just as I consumed that mystery meat abomination, my lust consumed me. I wanted to unleash my love for her like guacamole from a caulking gun.
The oily tension at our table for two began to overcome us both. Her hands twitched either out of nervousness or a small saturated-fat overdose seizure. My toes curled inside my Crocs, digging deep like the roots of our affection. The raw ache of anticipation welled inside us both. The temperature of the evening climbed from Mild® to Hot® to Fire®, crescendoing momentously in Limited Edition Fire Roasted®.
Our hands clicked together magnetically, and our heads aligned themselves on that cosmic auto-pilot that only soulmates share. Pausing just inches apart, she looked piningly at my buttery lips and whispered, “I must be a Cantina Steak Burrito® by Lorena Garcia, because I was made just for you.” We held the same tantalizing position as I replied, “You make my heart melt like Cheesy Fiesta Potatoes®.”
Suddenly, our lips locked together, cradling a Shredded Chicken Smothered Burrito® in between our mouths. As we lost ourselves in each other, we were blanketed by a layer of rice and pinto beans. Eventually, we tumbled off our chairs and onto the floor, wallowing in the food detritus like a pair of amorous hogs. We paused for breath, and she flirtatiously fed me a handful of the fallen legumes. From behind the counter an employee, jealous of our connection, yelled, “Ya’ll belong in an institution! Yo, this is wrong, man.”
If it was wrong, I don’t want to be right.
Today’s Random Thought
25 DecAn eye for an eye makes the whole world half blind – with limited depth perception.
The Lighter Side of the Moon 