Filmmaker, Comedian, and Crackpot

Head of the Class: The Movie

We are in a secret subterranean war room with a collection of U.S. security brass being addressed by an unseen CIA agent. On a large screen, we see familiar shots from the Head of the Class TV show. The screen finally freezes on one image of the IHP in class, all students are seated at their usual seats.

CIA Agent
Ladies and Gentlemen, over twenty years ago, a select group of students at Monroe High School were selected for the IHP, the individualized honors program. The students, while showing strong academic achievement, were in this advanced high school program for five years. That was our first flag.  Our second flag…

The screen zooms in on Dennis, sitting in the corner by the only computer in the class.

CIA Agent
Dennis Blunden. What the hell…

The camera turns around to reveal that the CIA Agent is actually Jawaharlal Choudhury.

CIA Agent
…was he doing on that computer?

Jawaharlal presses a button. A cryogenic pod elevates from the ground. CHHHHH!!!! A figure emerges.

CIA Agent
We’ll be sending in a newly acquired asset to stop Blunden.

The figure moves out of the fog.

CIA Agent
Good morning, Mr. Moore.

Moore
Please call me by my first name…

We see the fog clear and Mr Moore has a robot arm. Music swells.

Moore
Mister!

JUNE 2012

Shot of Mr. Moore on Mars surrounded by robots all emblazoned with the initials “IHP.”

Moore
Do you expect me to talk?

They all transmit a familiar face across their video faceplates.

Dr. Samuels
No, Mr. Moore, I expect you to die.

Blackout.

Gargamel’s Review of Avatar

Gargamel
Avatar, James Cameron’s latest titanic of a flop, left my wallet terminated. I saw this movie in Imax, as in I maxed out my American Express card buying a ticket.

Yes, Azrael.

There is no truer lie than the fact that is film is nothing more than thinly veiled pro-Smurf propaganda which I find insulting to those of us out there who have devoted our lives to pursuing a very real unobtanium, turning the little blue devils into gold. I would have rather spent my time staring into an abyss than to have Cameron push his mushroom loving politics, in 3-D no less, on hard working sorcerers such as myself.

But that being said, Sigourney Weaver has done it again.

Two stars.

Jedi Deli

Bob Jedi
Ay! Come on down to Jedi Deli, where we use the force to create the finest cold cuts, potato salad, and cream of broccoli soups.

Yoda
Assortment of Scratch-Off Tickets too, we have.

Jurassic Park: Staten Island

A man with a briefcase is running down the middle of Travis Avenue. He looks panicked. We see up ahead an Express Bus is at his stop, a line of people are entering the bus. We can hear the fare machine beeping as everyone deposits their fares and Metrocards.

The Man keeps running.

Man
Hey! Wait!

The man is losing it. The camera pulls back to reveal he is being chased by a Tyrannosaurus Rex.

The Man makes it to the bus, a long line of people are still waiting to get on. A passenger has trouble inserting his card in the fare reader and it holds up the line. The T. Rex stands behind the man. The man loosens his tie. The T. Rex checks his wrist as if he has a watch. He finally eats the man.

Title:
JURASSIC PARK: STATEN ISLAND

Narrator
The traffic might kill you.

Cut to: The T. Rex runs off an exit of the Staten Island Expressway. He stops and roars. The gridlocked traffic behind him starts beeping.

Staten Island Driver
Hey! Keep it movin’, ya piece-a-crap!

Darth Vader’s Blind Date

A woman is waiting outside of the line for Shake Shack in Madison Square Park (NYC). She is dressed for a date.

Darth Vader approaches her. He has a flower, something purple.

Darth Vader: Pardon me, might you be Sheila?

Sheila: Oh… yes.

Darth Vader hands her the flower.

Sheila: I wasn’t expecting Darth Vader.

Darth Vader: My dear Sheila, no one does, that is how I remain in power.

Sheila: Oh, OK.

Darth Vader: Join me, Sheila, together we shall wait in line at Shake Shack. In the meantime, I have dispatched several of the Galaxy’s shrewdest Bounty Hunters to fetch a pair of tickets for Merchant of Venice. Pacino shall bow before us.

Sheila’s cell phone rings.

Sheila: Hello? Oh, hi. I wasn’t expecting your call. (in a whisper) It’s going horrible. (fake surprise) WHAT! OH MY GOD! I’LL BE RIGHT THERE. NO, HE’LL UNDERSTAND.

Darth Vader: What is happening?

Sheila: It’s my friend, Daphne, she’s in trouble. I gotta go.

Darth Vader: I shall alert several of my commanders. What is Daphne’s location?

Sheila: Uh…

Darth Vader: Nevermind, I can sense her distress in the force.

A hologram is projected from Vader’s suit, we see an imperial officer.

Darth Vader: General Rubiko, aid Daphne in her conflict at all costs.

Rubiko: As you wish, Lord Vader. Enjoy Shake Shack.

Vader looks at Sheila.

Darth Vader: We shall.

Sheila: Look, you don’t have to call your friends.

A fleet of TIE fighters scrambles overhead. One of those four legged things follows them down the street.

Sheila: Oh, oh, OK. I guess Daphne will be fine.

Darth Vader: I’ve heard the wait is truly worth it.

Sheila: What like, no premarital sex?

Darth Vader: No, the line here, at Shake Shack.

Pause.

Darth Vader: Do you like me?

Sheila: Maybe as a friend.

Darth Vader: Have you ever fallen in love with a friend?

Sheila: Absolutely not. I have a policy.

Darth Vader: What are you going to get?

Sheila: Oh, something light.

Darth Vader: Like cheese fries or something?

Sheila’s phone rings.

Sheila: Hello?

We hear Daphne yelling “What the Hell!!??” and various Star Wars battle sound effects in the background.

Sheila hangs up.

Sheila: Eh. I don’t know.

Darth Vader: What do you do?

Sheila: Didn’t Ted and Elaine tell you?

Darth Vader: Advertising?

Sheila: I work at a real estate firm. I’m an executive assistant.

Darth Vader: Do you enjoy it?

Sheila: It’s work.

Darth Vader: What kind of music do you like?

Sheila: Eh. John Cougar.

Darth Vader: Oh.

Sheila: How about you?

Darth Vader: Coltrane.

Sheila: Jazz, right?

Darth Vader: OK.

Sheila: What?

Darth Vader: You obviously have some prejudices against me. You’re not even trying to be present in the moment. I’m done with you. So much for romance.

Sheila: Well, you’re evil.

Darth Vader: Well, you’re rude.

Sheila: Forgive me.

Darth Vader: Madame, goodnight.

Batman & Reuben

Batman is sitting at a diner, enjoying a sandwich.  A man in a purple suit walks by.

Man: Hey, check it out! It’s Batman and Reuben.

Batman politely waves.

Man: Get it, Batman? A Reuben sandwich. Batman and Reuben. It’s like a New Yorker cartoon.

Batman: Very witty. Now if you don’t mind, I’d just like to eat my Reuben.

Man: Huh?… Oh, the sandwich.

Batman: What?

Man: Just kidding, Batman and Reuben. Just joking. Juuuuust joking. Batman and Reuben. Love the boots, fyi.

Batman: Batman and Reuben. Wait a second! Wait a second! You’re the Joker!

The man runs off, laughing.

Batman gets up from his chair and spills his Dr. Pepper.

Batman: Dammit!

As he mops up the spill with his cape, Batman eats the rest of his sandwich as fast as he can, at the same time digging in his utility belt for money to pay the tab.

A waitress, walks by, looking at the mess.

Batman (with a mouth full of food): The Reuben was delicious.  Thank you.

Waitress: Don’t mention it.

Batman is desperately trying to find money, clean his table, and finish his meal.

Waitress: Say, Batman, you OK?

Batman: I’m just trying to get out of here so I can go get the Joker.

Waitress: What’d he do?

Batman (flustered): He told some jokes or something.

Waitress: You should go after my brother in law.

It’s the first day of National Sketch Writing Month

Telephone Repair
by Jeremiah Murphy

The setting is a park bench in May.

1: Excuse me, I am here to fix your telephone.
2: Excellent.
1: It should take only a moment.
2: And to think, I always have trouble getting any service with this phone.
1: Haha.
2: Haha.
1: There’s a problem with your phone.
2: I know, that’s why you are fixing it.
1: Do you know what the problem is?
2: Nobody is calling me.
1: No, that’s a problem with you, not the phone.
2: All right, all right, you joker.
1: The problem with your phone is very serious. So, I’m going to ask you to, you know, calm down, with the comedic persona.
2: Jeez, it’s just a phone. What could be wrong?
1: It’s emitting a bizarre frequency of pulses. You may have been experiencing headaches, nausea, mild hallucinations—maybe shadow like creatures in the periphery of your vision.
2: Well, my toenails have been growing at an alarming rate.
1: That’s because you’re supposed to clip them once a week.
2: Excuse me, I’m not suffering from any of the symptoms you mentioned, so perhaps my phone is fine.
1: Perhaps I am hallucinating your saying that because I spend all my days repairing these phones and am exposed to the damaging pulses.
2: Well, you can fart in one hand and perhaps in the others and see which one gets full faster.
1: Neither one with get full, they are both intangibles.
2: If the hand is cupped in a manner, perhaps one can prevent the gas from escaping.
1: Do you fart in the same hand that you hold your phone?
2: I don’t fart in my hand.
1: Are you experiencing any other problems with your phone?
2: Just that nobody calls me.
1: I have no interest in spending my time having similar conversations over the telephone if that’s what you’re trying to insinuate.
2: Cool your jets.
1: Are we finished?
2: I guess so. You were the one in a rush to fix my phone.
1: I’m a phone repair man.
2: I work in fashion.
1: Oh yeah? What kind?
2: Interior design.
1: Get out.
2: It’s not very lucrative.
1: Oh, yeah, nobody calls you. Say, you smell that bad breath smell?
2: I thought it was you.
1: It’s the smell I get inside my head when I begin to question who I am, not at an identity level, but like at an essence level. I can always go back so far in my head. It’s a remarkable, mystical feeling, then I get a bad breath smell.
2: I’d recommend removing your Bluetooth device.
1: I thought it made me look like Lobot.
2: From Star Wars?
1: Yes. Care for an AMC Gold Ticket Movie Pass?

First, The Wild Hunstman, the guy swinging the axe, is going straight for the crotch.  Maybe he’s more of a problem than The Conqueror.  Second, I guess Aquaman’s sitting this one out.   Anybody got a magazine he can read?  In fact, the whole bottom third of the cover should be an After School Special.

Seraph looks cool.

It pains me that a million years from now, we won’t have a cure for excema.  When I was 14, I had that same forehead rash with which Futurio-XX is stricken.  I remember it flaked a lot and was not only uncomfortable, but unsightly.  I can still hear the whispers of that short kid on the North Quincy High hockey team and his girlfriend making fun of me during European History I.  I think I was the only thing they had to talk about.  I wonder if they got married and divorced and the reason for divorce they gave was that they just couldn’t talk about my flakey forehead rash anymore. 

I hope Wonder Woman is knitting Robin some pants. 

I hope Aquaman gets over himself.

I hope Superman one day can afford his own comic books.

I hope the man with the Big F and pretty eyes makes an appointment next time.  Perhaps his Lotus Notes Meeting Maker is the cause of this misunderstanding.  That thing never works.  Just schedule everything as appointments and call to confirm.

Why does Professor Nichols look he’s just been “blessed by the Lord?”  Gorilla-lujah! 

I wonder if the Professor is related to the same Nichols who was in my Michael Howard Studios Summer Conservatory acting classes.  We all did so much crying that summer.  Something which became a summer tradition when I decided to pursue acting as a career. 

“Do something, Superman?”  Do something, Aquaman.  You lazy ass.  It’s an ocean monster.  For once, something’s compatible with your resume.

Images from http://www.comicvine.com/super-friends-/37-21422/

I have a few concerns about this Ground Zero Mosque we’re building. I was in Manhattan on 9/11/2001 and drive by Ground Zero every day, so I think I have some solid perspective.

Here are my concerns:

The location of the Mosque: It’s not exactly on Ground Zero, it’s a couple blocks away.  This is pointless.  Perhaps we should consider putting it actually in Ground Zero, make it really tall, as a little insurance policy that history doesn’t repeat itself. 

Transportation: Come on, Lower Manhattan?  Where’s Osama bin laden supposed to park?  We expect the leader of Al Qaeda to take the train in the middle of Ramadan?  Let’s roll out the red carpet a little for our foreign visitors.

Moderate Muslims: I have been hearing, time and time again, that this Mosque is being made by moderate Muslims.  Come on, guys.  Let’s get the extremist, crazy-town, bomb’s away, infidel fearing, I’ll do anything to get out of the desert Muslims in there so we know where to catch and hold them guilty until proven innocent.

Not-So-Sparkling Vistas: In the Mosque’s current location, I’m afraid the view will be quite poor in the secret room where President Obama and Mohammed will meet every Tuesday to discuss how to run the world.  A nice solid panorama of the city would really make us all the more human as these two decide which liberties to steal from us.

For more info: IwanttobeHulk.com