To the Troops:
We are poorer without you.
I don't believe in War, but I believe in you.
Sorry, I'm late. But you should be home by now, so- you are too.
My sister, Sheri, and I are standing in a very red restaurant lobby. I am dressed for casual fine-dining and she is wearing a maternity dress with a baby bag on her shoulder. I can't tell if she's pregnant.
-Where are you headed? ,I ask.
She looks down at her shoulder-bag and rummages through it briefly, awkwardly, making sure she brought anything she may need.
-I'm sorry we couldn't eat together at Maddie's.
Quite innocently persisting, I say:
-Well, you're here now, let's just go now.
She nods once, and we continue together into the seating area. We sit at a booth and are immediately presented with menus by an unacknowledged server.
We open our menus and find that every line in it is highlighted, indicating to both of us, that it was prepared by wife, Kate. Neither of us mentions this.
In what has become an inexplicably awkward moment for me, I suggest turning on the radio, a converted napkin dispenser at our booth. Sitting face-to-face, both of us lean in closely to hear the weak signal emanating from it. A crackling, detuned static.
-What does it mean? Sheri asks, innocently.
I lean in slightly closer.
I wake up to a detuned radio. Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata vs. Pink Floyd's 'Have A Cigar'.
True story.
[Shooting over Casey’s shoulder] Casey turns the key in the door-lock and casually goes down the hallway toward the living room. As he turns the corner, we see an old lady unpainfully tied up against the radiator. She is blindfolded.
After a looong pause, the unhurt, but scared lady whispers:
-‘That you, Jonny?
A bit startled, having just cracked a beer, Casey leans forward:
-'That you, mum?
Coolly, the lady tells her son that she is being held hostage in their home; and that he should get out immediately, before the prowler returns. Then:
-GO NOW!
NOW! NOW! NOW! She shrieks, to get him on his feet.
Casey, leaves because he is a Gemini, and prefers escape to conflict.
He quickly and quietly waves his hands around in front of him, as though he can’t see, because he is blind. He picks up his seeing eye dog, or cane, or whatever, and unwillingly leaves.
On his way out:
-Geez, I go out to get the mail for a minute, and.. [trails off]
-He went out to get the mail for a minute, and forgot to bring it in! she says thoroughly to the man coming to her from behind the camera [the viewer].
-Tighten the phone wire, dear.
she says plainly.
-I want you to really hurt me now.
A set of hands [the viewer’s own hands] comes into the shot and begins a slow clap. The lady gets up, clearly not tied to radiator at all, takes off her blindfold, smiling, and breathing hard, like she just finished a musical dance number. She takes a bow.
Casey stumbles through the door, not being able to see, since is really blind, and tries to hand his mother an award.
Long pause for applause.
She pinches his ear suddenly, and meanly. She ‘yells’ into his ear:
-HOW MANY MORE TIMES ARE YOU GONNA FUCK THIS UP!?
Casey suffers her glare for a solid few seconds, then she suddenly looks square at the camera and yells:
-AND HOW LONG ARE YOU GOING TO LET ME DO THIS TO HIM?!
She quickly drops her camera-stare and recovers her composure again. She says:
-Now, let’s do it from the TOP!
Camera pans back and the 2 actors assume their original places to begin the sketch again.
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