CONFERENCE CHAMPIONSHIPS

Tombstone a-pizza!

Ravens (+9) over Patriots

49ers (-3) over Giants

Last Week:  0-4

Best Week:  8-4-1 (Week 5)

Overall:  111-139-14 (.447)

Playoffs:  2-6 (.250)

Episode 101 – Insurrection

Borgelberg:  So the project’s called Insurrection.

Cruise:  Wow! Sounds great!

Borgelberg:  I haven’t even explained it yet, Tom.

Cruise:  Sorry, Kevin. Just very excited to begin a brand new project.

Borgelberg:  Great. Well, it’s about a near-future dystopia.

Cruise:  Love dystopias. Because they give my character an opportunity to turn them into utopias.

Borgelberg:  Mmhmm. Right. So it’s a near-future dystopia where a despotic ruler–

Cruise:  BOOOO!

Borgelberg:  What.

Cruise:  I’m booing the despotic ruler. That’s what the audience will do.

Borgelberg:  Okay. A despotic leader rules with an iron fist and it’s up to one aircab driver–

Cruise:  Me?

Borgelberg:  You. It’s up to one aircab driver to save the world and lead the rebellion that topples the despot’s regime.

Cruise:  Wow, that sounds like one humdinger of a tale.

Borgelberg:  Yeah, it’s actually not that bad. You wanna read it?

Cruise:  No, I trust you. Now Kevin, is an aircab anything like a regular cab?

Borgelberg:  (checking script)  Uh, I believe it is a regular taxi cab that can fly through the air.

Cruise:  Wow! The future!

Borgelberg:  Yes, it’s all very exciting. So can I put you down as a yes for this?

Cruise:  Absolutely. And Kevin, I was thinking I could maybe get a job as a cabbie to prepare for the role. Really find out what makes this rebellious cab driver tick.

Borgelberg:  Sure, whatever. Now let’s talk incentives. If this shoot goes over by a day, I can guarantee you an extra twelve million dollars. So let’s find a really unreliable director and–  (looks up at empty office)  Where’d he go?

~~~

(At the offices of Hollywood Cabs on Pico…)

Cruise:  (holding a classifieds)  Hi! I’m here for the driver position.

(An obese woman, not looking up from her Vogue…)

Yoquanda:  You got any driving experience?

Cruise:  I was in Days of Thunder.

Yoquanda:  Never heard of that company. Fill out this form and meet Ernie in the garage.

Cruise:  Great! I love filling out forms. It’s like a test for your brain.

Yoquanda:  (muttering)  This boy trippin’.

~~~

(In the garage, Tom meets an older cabbie named…)

Ernie:  Ernie Maxwell.

Cruise:  (shaking Ernie’s hand)  Tom Cruise. Real pleasure, Ernie.

Ernie:  Ain’t you that actor? The white boy in Jerry Maguire.

Cruise:  Yeah! That was me! Did you enjoy that film?

Ernie:  Never seen it. I’m more of a book guy. Was there a book version?

Cruise:  Oh gosh, I dunno.

Ernie:  What you doin’ here if you some big Hollywood actor?

Cruise:  I’m doing research for a role. Thought if I drove a cab around for a couple weeks I’d really get a feel for what it’s like to be a cabbie.

Ernie:  You wanna learn what it’s like to be a cabbie, you gon’ need a lot more than two weeks. Bein’ a cabbie takes a lifetime of experience.

Cruise:  Oh, I’m gonna have to tell Kevin I’ll need more time.

~~~

(Tom is sitting in the passenger’s seat as Ernie drives…)

Ernie:  Now the first lesson in bein’ a good cabbie: Know where the money is. You don’t wanna waste all day drivin’ Joe Businessman a block here and a block there. You need to find the big fish. And in this town, they at the airport. There’s always some foreigner or out-of-towner that need a ride out the airport. So you gotta know your way around LAX. You ever been to LAX?

Cruise:  (shakes his head)  I have my own private airport.

Ernie:  I bet you have your own private everything.

(Tom slaps Ernie hard on the back and the cab veers into oncoming traffic for just a moment before Ernie corrects it…)

Cruise:  Ernie, you’re hilarious!

Ernie:  I wasn’t jokin’.  (pointing up ahead)  Now here we go: French.

Cruise:  How do you know they’re French?

Ernie:  C’mon now, look at ‘em. Look’t how French they is. If they was anymore French, they’d be bread.

Cruise:  Well you’ve got a point there, Ernie.

(The cab pulls up and two Frenchmen and a woman pile into the backseat…)

Ernie:  (into the rearview mirror)  Where to, parlez-vous?

Cruise:  Oh, Ernie! You’re so worldly.

Frenchman:  Au baw baw, baw baw baww.

Ernie:  Aw man, I don’t know what these fools is sayin’.

Cruise:  (turning to the backseat with a grin)  Au baw baw, au baw?

(The French people beam…)

Frenchman:  Au baw baw baw?

Cruise:  Au baw! Baw baw baw.

Frenchman:  Au baw baw. ‘Owdoyousay, Risky Business?

Cruise:  Oui! Oui! Au baw baw!

Frenchwoman:  (giggles)

Frenchman:  Au baw!

Ernie:  I didn’t know you could speak French.

Cruise:  Picked it up in Paris when we were filming Interview With The Vampire.

Ernie:  So what’d they say? Where they wanna go?

Cruise:  Oh, I’m not sure. But they loved me in Risky Business!

Ernie:  (sighs)

~~~

(The French tourists wave as Ernie pulls out of the hotel parking lot…)

Cruise:  (waving out the window)  Bye now! Take care! Au revoir!

Ernie:  I think you startin’ to get the hang of this, Cruise. Those frogs left us a helluva tip.

Cruise:  You keep it, Ernie. I’m not in this for the money. I’m in it for the experience. When you see me up on that silver screen next summer, you’re gonna say to yourself, “Now that’s a cabbie.”

Ernie:  Well, I hope so. Why don’t you tell me about this movie of yours, Tom.

Cruise:  I’d love to! You see, it all starts in the future…

~~~

(One hour and zero customers later…)

Cruise:  And then I save the world, I think.

Ernie:  Well, that certainly sounds…interesting.

Cruise:  With your tutelage, it’s gonna be extra interesting.

Ernie:  Mmhmm.

Cruise:  Now when am I gonna get to drive this puppy?

Ernie:  (pulls over, smiles)  Let’s see what you got, Hollywood.

~~~

(The cab is wrapped around a palm tree and smoldering as Tom and Ernie look on…)

Cruise:  I’m really sorry about this, Ernie. I’m gonna pay for all the damages. That chipmunk just shouldn’t have run into the street like that.

Ernie:  We was on the sidewalk.

Cruise:  Again, I’m really sorry.

Ernie:  (removes cap, scratches balding head)  We gon’ need a lot more work.

~~~

(In super-agent Kevin Borgelberg’s office…)

Borgelberg:  Tommy boy! Where’d you run off to?

Cruise:  I’m down here at Hollywood Cabs. Kevin, I’m gonna need a little more time than I previously thought.

Borgelberg:  Wait. You really got a job as a cab driver? I thought you were joking. I’ll be sure to get a publicist and a photographer down there first thing tomorrow morning. How much more time do you need? A day? Two days?

Cruise:  A month.

Borgelberg:  A MONTH! Tommy, this film starts shooting in two weeks. I need you to wrap up this little cabbie fantasy of yours quick.

Cruise:  Gonna need at least another month, Kev. Ernie says so. Gotta go buy a new cab now. Bye!

(Kevin Borgelberg sits listening to the dial tone for a moment…)

Borgelberg:  Who the hell is Ernie?

Nate, Mike & Keith are childhood Maine friends. They’re also assholes.

Episode 113 – Time To Get Jailed

Judge:  The Town of Freeport hereby sentences you to a year in prison for the crime of loitering in a desert.

Keith:  (scowling)  Objection!

Rollings:  (leans over, whispers)  You can’t do that.

Keith:  Fine. Then you yell it.

Rollings:  (pats Keith on the back)  Sorry, Keith. I lawyered as hard as I could. Time to pay the piper.

Keith:  Are you the piper? ‘Cause I ain’t payin’ you shit.

(Mike and Nate are in the front row of the gallery…)

Nate:  Tough break, buddy.

Mike:  Guess we’ll see you in a year, Keith. Stay strong.  (black power salute, for some reason)

Keith:  (sighs)  I’ll be fine, you guys. Just wish I could serve in Veazie Jail. At least in there, half the inmates are guys we grew up with.

Rollings:  Can’t win ‘em all.

Nate:  Do you win any of them, Rick?

Mike:  Maybe it’s time we start looking into getting a new lawyer.

Rollings:  But you guys are like my only clients!

Nate:  Well, maybe we should take that as a bad sign.

Mike:  Always judge someone by the company they keep.

Nate:  And we are some pretty lousy company.

Mike:  Ain’t that the truth.

Rollings:  You guys are really ruining my Friday.

Nate:  It’s Tuesday.

Rollings:  Yeah, but I have nothing scheduled for the rest of the week; so it’s basically my Friday.

Mike:  You keep a schedule?

Rollings:  I’ve thought about it.

Nate:  You’re fired, Rick.

Rollings:  (pouts)  You guys really are assholes.

Keith:  (being led away in shackles)  AVENGE ME!

~~~

(Nate and Mike are exiting the Freeport Courthouse when they’re intercepted by a man in full Army regalia…)

Dilsner:  PFC Michael Miner, I am Col. Phillip L. Dilsner and I am here to escort you down to Camp King in South Carolina for your court martial for going AWOL a year ago in Iraq. If you—OW MY BALLS!

(Nate removes his foot from the Colonel’s crotch…)

Mike:  Whoa, dude.

Nate:  Run!

(Mike and Nate take off down the street as the Colonel crumples to the ground and shouts after them through clenched teeth…)

Dilsner:  You can’t run from the Army forever, boy! We’re everywhere! Even Canada!

~~~

(The two assholes duck into an alleyway behind a My Maine Bag shop to collect their breath…)

Mike:  Can’t believe you kicked that Colonel in the balls, Nate. Clutch move.

Nate:  If Keith was with us right now he’d probably say, “More like ‘crotch move’.”

Mike:  Yeah, he was always so unfunny. I still miss him, though. But seriously, that Colonel’s gonna be really pissed.

Nate:  I already lost one friend today. I’m not about to lose both.

Mike:  You talkin’ about Rick, our lawyer? Because I always saw him as more of an acquaintance.

Nate:  No, you idiot. Keith, our friend who just went to prison for a year.

Mike:  Oh yeah, real bummer.

Nate:  We’ve gotta find somewhere to stash you.

Mike:  (fishes in back pocket)  Okay. But just in case he does find me, can you hold my gun? I don’t think I’m s’posed to still have this.

Nate:  (pockets pistol)  Now where would an Army Colonel never dare to look?

~~~

(At a nearby Freeport gay bar…)

Mike:  My God, this music is deafening. How do the gays dance to this? And why is it so packed in here? It’s noon on a Tuesday.

Nate:  Lunch hour rush, I guess. Kinda like Diva’s.

Mike:  Oh, Minnie. Maybe I should call her, tell her I’m alright.

Nate:  They might have the phones tapped.

Mike:  In a Freeport gay bar?

Nate:  You heard the Colonel. The Army’s everywhere. Even in Canada! Canada, Mikey!

Mike:  Calm down. We just gotta think.

Nate:  Some drugs would help the thinking process. Can’t believe neither of us is holding. And Freeport’s always dry as a bone.

Mike:  Gay bar drinks?

Nate:  Gay bar drinks.

~~~

(Hours later, Mike and Nate are plastered…)

Mike:  How have we been here for this long and none of these dudes are macking on us?

Nate:  Maybe they think we’re a couple.

Mike:  A couple of ugly losers.

Nate:  Now don’t say that, Mike. You’re a beautiful man.

Mike:  I know that, Nate. You know I know that. But all that beauty is on the inside. On the outside I’m just a chubby slob on the run from an Army court-martial.

Jeff:  (overhearing)  You’re being court-martialed? Unbelievable. The Army’s finally gone too far. Richie, do you hear this? This poor soul’s being court-martialed by the Army for being gay!

Richie:  Those monsters!

Mike:  Oh no, I’m being court-martialed ’cause I went AWOL.

Nate:  (chuckling)  Yeah, he’s a huge pussy.

Mike:  Shut up, Nate.

Jeff:  You two are so cute.  (climbing up on the bar)  Men! Are we gonna let the Army make a martyr out of our brother, Mike?

Gay Bar Patrons:  NO!

Jeff:  (resting a hand on Mike’s shoulder)  You’ve got every gay man in the greater Freeport area behind your back, Michael.

Mike:  (turning to Nate)  Well, I guess that can’t hurt.

Nate:  (shrugs) The more the merrier.

Jeff:  Great. Now let’s dance!

~~~

(After an hour of hardcore raving, Mike and Nate straggle back to the bar for more drinks…)

Mike:  Think I pulled something.

Nate:  Think somebody else pulled something of mine.

Dilsner:  PFC MINER.

(Col. Dilsner stands at the door as every man in the bar rushes to stand in front of the two assholes…)

Jeff:  You’re not taking our soldier, you awful man!

Dilsner:  Get out of my way, you fruitcake.

Jeff:  No! Men, Krav Maga stances!

Dilsner:  What is this, a dance routine?

Jeff:  Court-martialing a gay man will put you on every front page in America, Mr. Army Man. Even in the states that hate us!

Dilsner:  Are you serious? PFC Miner isn’t a gay man. He is a straight man who ran away from a war. Did he tell you he was a gay?

(The entire bar turns to Mike, sporting a sheepish grin…)

Mike:  Well…I didn’t tell them I was not gay.

Jeff:  You lied to us, Michael?

Mike:  I bent the truth. Still though, the Army. Bad! Grrrr! Fight The Man and stuff!

Jeff:  Take him away, Colonel.

Dilsner:  Gladly.

(The Colonel handcuffs Mike…)

Nate:  How’d you even find us here, Colonel?

Dilsner:  Your friend Rollings told me you’d be here.

(Mike and Nate see Rick poke his head out from behind the Colonel…)

Rick:  I just said it as a joke to get him off my back, guys. I didn’t think you’d actually be here. Something you’re not telling me?

Nate:  Yeah. That you’re fired again.

Mike:  Guess this is so long, Nate. Say hi to Keith for me when you visit.

Nate:  No. I’m not losing two friends in one day. Who will I hang out with, the guys at the dam? They’re so boring!

Mike:  That one guy with the pet monkey seems cool.

Nate:  That’s his daughter. She has a skin condition. And he sucks.

Mike:  Oh.

Nate:  I can’t let this happen.  (draws Mike’s gun)

Mike:  Whoa, Nate.

Dilsner:  Easy there, son. Think about what you’re doin’ here.

Nate:  They can’t send you back to Iraq if you’re not fit for duty!

Mike:  No, Nate! The war’s ov—AHH FUCK MY FOOT.

Dilsner:  Now you know how my balls feel. Sheriff, arrest this man.

(Sheriff Ford grins and cuffs Nate…)

Sheriff:  Hello, Shoops.

Nate:  Hey, Sheriff. Sorry about your foot, Mike.

Mike:  (cringing)  Shot zero times in Iraq; twice in Maine after one year back.

Nate:  See you in a year, I guess.

Mike:  (limps away with Colonel Dilsner)  See you in a year, bud.

~~~

(The door to Keith’s jail cell opens and Nate walks in and plops down next to his old friend…)

Keith:  Hey, man.

Nate:  Hey.

Keith:  Toilet wine?

Nate:  (smiles)  Sure thing, buddy. Hey, did you know the war’s over?

Keith:  (stirring toilet wine)  No shit.

DIVISIONAL ROUND

Ach de lieber! Der kleimenkampf!

Saints (-4) over 49ers

Broncos (+14) over Patriots

Ravens (-9) over Texans

Packers (-9) over Giants

Last Week:  2-2

Best Week:  8-4-1 (Week 5)

Overall:  111-135-14 (.454)

Playoffs:  2-2 (.500)

Nate, Mike & Keith are childhood Maine friends. They’re also assholes.

Episode 112 – Flu And Blue

Nate:  (vomits up phlegm)  Ughhh.

(There’s a knock at the door to Nate’s Veazie apartment, before Mike and Keith finally kick it in. They find Nate keeled over his bed, drenched in sweat…)

Keith:  Nate, we were knocking at your door for nearly ten seconds. What’s going on here? Get out of bed, lazy bones.

Nate:  I don’t feel so good. Think I’ve got a cold.

Mike:  That’s all? We’ve got a cure for that.

Nate:  Pretty sure you don’t. Ever heard of the phrase, “Cure for the common cold”?

Keith:  That’s just an old wives’ tale. We’ve got a surefire cure. But you won’t hear that from our friends at the FDA.

Nate:  How’s that?

Mike:  Well, the ingredients are a little…illegal.

Nate:  Whatever. I’ll try anything. I can’t afford to miss another day of work.

Keith:  Oh, and sorry about your door.

Nate:  What happened to my door?

Keith:  Haha nothing, bub.

~~~

(Mike and Keith are bustling around Nate’s kitchen in lab coats with pots bubbling as Nate staggers to the couch…)

Nate:  Where’d you guys get those lab coats?

Keith:  Science!

Nate:  Oh.

Mike:  Now Nate, we’re gonna need to know if your family has a history of heart conditions.

Nate:  I don’t think so. Hey, did you guys kick my door in?

Keith:  That was like that when we got here.

Mike:  Drink this.

(Mike hands Nate a beaker of bubbly green liquid…)

Nate:  What is it?

Mike:  Go ahead. Drink up.

Nate:  What’s in it, though?

Mike:  Um…science?

Nate:  I need to know what’s in this. I might be allergic.

Keith:  (grabs the beaker)  Bottoms up!

(Mike holds Nate down while Keith forces the drink down his throat…)

Nate:  (coughs, sputters)  You sons of bitches! What was…..whoa.

Keith:  Just relax, bub. Let the medicine take you away.

Nate:  (groggily trying to keep his eyes open)  You guys are…assho…

~~~

(Nate wakes up on a sandy street under the hot sun. He sees Mike and Keith nearby in turbans…)

Nate:  Where am I? Why are you wearing turbans? Where are your lab coats?

Keith:  Whoa, that’s a lot of questions for an Iranian arms dealer.

Nate:  What?

Mike:  Do you have the enriched uranium?

Nate:  How did we get to Iran?

Mike:  Do you have the uranium, or not?

Nate:  What uranium?

Keith:  You’re gonna wanna give my buddy al-Mike the uranium, bub. He was in the Army.

Nate:  Yeah, I know. He went AWOL.

Keith:  (chortles)  AWOL? From the Iranian Revolutionary Guard? I don’t think so, crazy bones.

Mike:  Going AWOL from Iranian Army is grounds for beheading.

Keith:  They’ll cut your head clean off. I’ve seen it.

Nate:  I don’t really know what’s happening right now. You guys gave me something.

Keith:  Yeah. We gave you three million dollars for a vial of enriched uranium so we can blow shit up, Iran-style. And all you’re givin’ us in return is the old runaround.

Mike:  al-Mike does not like runaround.

Keith:  See? Now you’ve got him speaking in third person. You see what you’ve done?

Nate:  Is three million even a good price for enriched uranium?

Keith:  Seems reasonable to me. Now hand it over, chump.

Nate:  Hold on, I’ve gotta think. Last thing I remember, I was in my apartment in Veazie.

Mike:  What is this “Veazie” you speak of?

Nate:  It’s in Maine. In the US, where we live.

Keith:  (whispering to al-Mike)  Sounds like somebody had a little too much Iranian wine last night.

Mike:  (Iranian chuckles)

Keith:  (Iranian chortles)  Oh, Iranian us.

(The three men are suddenly surrounded by a squadron of Navy SEALs…)

SEAL Captain:  On the ground!

Nate:  Yes! Americans! Please help. I’ve been kidnapped and transported to Iran, I think.

SEAL Captain:  (chuckling)  Nice try, buddy. We’ve been tracking you fellas for weeks. You’re coming with us.

Keith:  Iranian dammit!

~~~

(In a basement holding cell in the desert, Nate is tied to a chair and being beaten with a rubber hose…)

CIA Agent #1:  Where is the uranium?

Nate:  Ow! I dunno! Are you literally beating me with a rubber hose?

CIA Agent #1:  Enough of your Iranian mumbo-jumbo! Speak English! Where is the uranium?

Nate:  I am speaking English! And I don’t know!

CIA Agent #2:  Maybe the uranium’s inside him.

CIA Agent #1:  You’re right. We better cut him open.

~~~

(Nate wakes up in a pile of snow in nothing but his briefs and feels a sharp pain in his stomach. He looks down to see a raccoon gnawing on his belly. He shivers violently as he smacks the raccoon…)

Nate:  Git!

Raccoon:  (hisses, scurries)

Nate:  (passes back out)

~~~

(Nate wakes up in a hospital bed that evening with Keith and Mike by his side…)

Nate:  Where am I now? Back in Iran?

Keith:  No, buddy. You’re in EMMC in Bangor. You got pneumonia.

Nate:  That’s worse than a cold, right?

Mike:  There were complications with your treatment.

Keith:  You ran outside in your underwear, yelling something about uranium.

Nate:  What did you give me, anyway?

Keith:  A concentrated dose of LSD and PCP.

Mike:  We call it LSDCP. Usually does the trick whenever we get the sniffles.

Keith:  Also, the doctor said you’re gonna have to lose a couple toes due to frostbite; and that raccoon definitely had rabies.

Nate:  (turns up opiate drip)  You guys are assholes.

Keith:  (pats Nate on the head as he fades away)  We all are, buddy. We all are.

Nate, Mike & Keith are childhood Maine friends. They’re also assholes.

Episode 111 – Black Sunshine

Keith:  Ooh! The mascot should be a monkey! Because monkeys are awesome.

Jimmy:  Okay. So you want me to draw a monkey on the label as well? I’ve already got a lightning bolt and an electric guitar.

Keith:  Nah. Better leave it at that or it’ll look too busy. But draw some monkeys for me for personal use.

Mike:  We are going to be so rich.

(Nate enters Mike’s trailer at Chickadee Trailer Park to find Mike, Keith and high school junior Jimmy Pogaletti laying on the floor, drawing…)

Nate:  How are we going to be “so rich”?

Keith:  (jumps up and pats Nate on the back)  From Black Sunshine!

Nate:  Our severely alcoholic personal concoction?

Mike:  Keith had the bright idea that we go public.

Nate:  Selling an alcoholic beverage is serious business, you guys. It’s not just three guys in a trailer park.

Keith:  Well four, now.

Nate:  You need a marketing department, manufacturing plant, FDA approval, bottlers…

Keith:  Way ahead of ya, bud.

(Mike shoves a mason jar full of dark black liquid in Nate’s face…)

Mike:  Boom!

Keith:  We fill a mason jar with Black Sunshine, slap a fancy label on it illustrated by Jimmy here and bang! Profit!

Nate:  I thought you and Jimmy were mortal enemies.

Keith:  Nah, we patched things up. Plus we’re paying him in Black Sunshine, so he’s got a pretty good buzz going.

Jimmy:  And I thought it was pretty cool how Keith burned our school down.

Keith:  Allegedly!

Nate:  I still think we need to worry about the FDA. There is a substantial amount of gasoline in the Black Sunshine recipe.

Keith:  (covers Jimmy’s ears)  Shh! Top secret recipe!

Mike:  The FDA can wait, Nate. Right now we’ve got to worry about distribution. We have three representatives of large companies coming to hear us pitch Black Sunshine. We even produced a commercial and a small ad campaign to get the buzz going. My girl Minnie is going to be the new face of Black Sunshine.

Keith:  I still think a monkey would be cooler. Spokesmonkey!

Mike:  Check out this poster.

(Mike unfurls a poster and Nate sees Minnie in a bikini, holding a jar of Black Sunshine accompanied by the slogan…)

Keith:  Pour It On Your Face!

Nate:  (blank stare)

Keith:  Huh? Huh?

Nate:  (pointing at the poster)  Is that a C-section scar?

Mike:  Easy, Nate. She’s very sensitive about that scar.

Nate:  Well, what does she do at work? Does she leave that one section of her stomach un-stripped?

Mike:  If you must know, she wears a series of well-placed pasties.

Keith:  We’re getting off topic here. Before we meet with the distributors, I’ve got another great way to spread the word about Black Sunshine.

Jimmy:  (shaking empty mason jar)  Can I get paid again?  (hiccups)

~~~

(Returning from the town’s water reservoir, Mike, Nate and Keith meet three men in suits waiting for them in Veazie Town Park…)

Keith:  Gentlemen, I’d like to introduce you to Perry O’Brien of Guinness, Thomas Rathmon of R.J. Reynolds and Chuck Madison of Nabisco.

Nate:  (frowns)  Nabisco?

Madison:  (thick Bronx accent)  You got a problem with Nabisco?

Nate:  No, sir.

Madison:  Didn’t think so.

Keith:  Gentlemen, I’m not gonna bore you with a sales pitch. I believe Black Sunshine sells itself. Please enjoy a free sample while we watch this commercial advertisement.

(Mike goes over to a nearby water fountain and fills three plastic cups with Black Sunshine, while Keith queues up the video on Nate’s work laptop…)

Keith:  (voice-over)  After a hard day’s night eight days a week, all you need is…Black Sunshine.

(Minnie onscreen in her bikini pulls a lever and is immediately drenched in a thick black oily substance…)

Keith:  (voice-over)  Black Sunshine: Pour It On Your Face!

(The video ends and the three company representatives cringe as they try to choke down the drink…)

Rathmon:  Ugh. This is horrible.

O’Brien:  It’s really bloody awful. And that commercial had far too many Beatles lyrics in it. You’ll never be able to clear that.

Rathmon:  Did I see you get this dreck out of that public water fountain?

Mike:  Made in Veazie. Drank in Veazie.

Keith:  We rerouted some pipes at the town’s water reservoir. Now everybody in Veazie is getting drunk on Black Sunshine!

(A taxi barrels through the park and smashes into a tree. Smoke billows out of multiple locations across town and sirens sound…)

Rathmon:  Gentlemen, this…beverage is clearly nearly ninety percent gasoline. You’ve essentially poisoned your entire town.

Madison:  I’m pretty sure that’s some sorta federal offense.

Keith:  Shut up, Madison! We don’t want Nabisco’s money anyhow.

O’Brien:  I think we’ve heard enough. Gentlemen, shall we?

(The three suits turn to leave…)

Nate:  What if we were to slightly modify the gasoline content?

Keith:  (scowls)  Nate!

Mike:  Nate, how dare you.

~~~

(The three assholes are sitting on the curb outside Chickadee Trailer Park, drinking Black Sunshine and listening to the sirens getting closer…)

Mike:  Well, I guess it’s back to selling this stuff bootleg style like the old days.

Keith:  Least we got these cool labels now.

Nate:  (admiring his mason jar)  Yeah, that guitar’s pretty kickass. Good job, Jimmy.

Jimmy:  (passed out in road)

Keith:  Capitalism’s a crock of shit.  (hiccups)

Nate, Mike & Keith are childhood Maine friends. They’re also assholes.

Episode 110 – Now Hit It

(Keith Kowalski rolls out of bed late in the morning and smiles at himself in the full-length mirror. He slips on a red track suit, pours on far too much cologne and tops it off with a Kangol hat…)

Keith:  Lookin’ sharp, Kowalski.

(Keith shuffles down the grand staircase as his mother hollers from the dining room…)

Mom:  Keith, honey! Breakfast is ready!

Keith:  No time, Ma. I got a hot date.

Mom:  But Keith, Pierre’s been cooking all morning.

Keith:  Sorry, Pierre.

Pierre:  Ees fine, sir.

Mom:  Now what’s this about a date? With whom?

Keith:  Minnie.

Mom:  The stripper?

Keith:  She’s an exotic dancer, mom.

Mom:  Isn’t she with that Miner fellow? The AWOL soldier?

Keith:  They’re on a break. And how many people have you told about that AWOL thing?

Mom:  Only Pierre.

Pierre:  Ees a disgrace.

Keith:  Shut up, Pierre!

Mom:  Keithaniel Dolliver Kowalski, you watch your tone!

Keith:  (head down)  Sorry, mom. Sorry, Pierre. Guess I can take a Belgian waffle for the road.

Pierre:  (hands Keith a waffle)

Keith:  (eats waffle with bare hand, glances up)  No mimosa?

Pierre:  (scowls)

~~~

(Keith shows up at Minnie’s place of business — Diva’s Gentleman’s Club — with Kangol hat in hand. Clem the towering bouncer meets him at the door…)

Clem:  We ain’t open, Kowalski.

Keith:  I know. I’m s’posed to pick Minnie up for our date.

Clem:  Hold on, I’ll see if she’s in.  (opens the door a crack, yells)  MINNIE!

Minnie:  (hollering back)  WHAT!

Clem:  KEITH’S HERE! HE’S DRESSED LIKE LL COOL J.

Keith:  (frowns)

Minnie:  K, HOLD ON! GOTTA PUT MY DIAPHRAGM BACK IN!

Keith:  Back?

Clem:  Ooh, sounds like somebody’s gettin’ lucky.

(The two men stand outside the Bangor strip club and wait…)

Keith:  So, how’s bouncin’?

Clem:  Pretty great. Kicked a guy’s face into the concrete last night. He lost a tooth.

Keith:  Awesome.

(Minnie comes out in a tiny miniskirt and revealing top…)

Minnie:  K. I’m ready.

Keith:  Whoa, Minnie. You look lovely.

Minnie:  Aw, thanks Keith. So where are you takin’ me on our date?

Keith:  (smiles, fishes out wallet)  Wherever these holiday gift cards’ hearts desire, my dear.

Minnie:  (grabs a gift card, frowns)  Bass Pro Shops?

Keith:  Maybe they have fish.

~~~

(Keith and Minnie are in a park eating baloney sandwiches and playing Battleship…)

Keith:  (incredulous)  You sunk my battleship, you bitch!

Minnie:  (sighs)  Is this the whole date?

Keith:  Well, no. We’re probably gonna have sex later, too. Isn’t it beautiful out today?

Minnie:  Keith, it’s seven degrees. I’m freezing.

Keith:  Wanna wear my coat?

Minnie:  You’re not wearing a coat.

Keith:  Wanna wear my Kangol hat?

Minnie:  I don’t think this is working.

Keith:  You know what warms people up? Sex-having.

Minnie:  Okay. Now I’m sure this isn’t working.

Keith:  …so, that’s a no.

Mike:  (wandering by with a shovel on his shoulder, drops it)  WHAT THE FUCK.

~~~

(Mike is swinging the shovel wildly over his head as Keith hides behind Minnie…)

Minnie:  Baby, this isn’t what it looks like!

Mike:  It looks like you’re on a date with my friend, Keith!

Keith:  (lowering Kangol hat over eyes)  I’m not Keith. I’m LL Cool J.

Mike:  You’re LL Dead J!

Keith:  Well, that doesn’t make any sense.

Nate:  (strolling by on his lunch break at the dam)  Hey, what’s going on in this park?

Minnie:  I was only going out with him to make you jealous.

Mike:  (swings shovel)

Minnie:  I just thought if you saw me with your rich friend you’d make more of an effort and stop taking me for granted.

Nate:  (chuckles)

Mike:  (grins)  Wait, hold up. Rich friend?

Minnie:  Yeah, filthy rich.

Mike:  We’re talking about Keith, right?

Minnie:  Yeah, the guy in the Kangol hat. His family’s loaded.

Keith:  (red-faced)  I don’t know what she’s talking about. Probably on that dust. Strippers like angel dust because it has the word ‘angel’ in it. Makes them feel pretty.

Mike:  Shut up, Keith. Minnie, Nate and I have grown up with this kid. If he came from wealth; believe me, we’d know. And he definitely wouldn’t dress like that.

Nate:  Actually, he probably would.

Mike:  The point is, Keith Kowalski is not rich. He’s our friend. He wouldn’t keep something like that from us. So if you were trying to make me jealous, you failed.

Minnie:  Then can you please stop swinging that shovel.

Mike:  (lowers shovel)

Minnie:  (checks text)  That’s Clem. I gotta get back to work for the lunch hour rush.

(Minnie scurries off and Keith holds his Kangol hat in his hands, head down…)

Keith:  Are you gonna punch me now?

Mike:  Nah, Keith. You just got caught up in one of Minnie’s mind games. She’s good at that stuff.

Keith:  (puts an arm around Mike as they leave the park)  Sorry about dating your stripper girlfriend, bud.

Mike:  Exotic dancer girlfriend. And it’s all good. I know you’d never do anything to purposefully hurt a friend. Let’s go back to my trailer park, torch some crack and watch Mr. Ed reruns.

Keith:  (smiles)  Yeah.

Nate:  Hey, Keith. Why don’t we ever hang at your place?

Keith:  (chortles)  Like I have a place!

(The three assholes guffaw as they traipse down the street…)

~~~

(At Kowalski Manor…)

Pierre:  (hollering)  Madame Kowalski! Help me! I am once again lost in your expansive mansion!

Mrs. Kowalski:  Well, where are you?

Pierre:  I believe I am in a portico!

Mrs. Kowalski:  Which portico?

Pierre:  Please send help! I am very cold!

WILD CARD WEEKEND

Papa New Guinea!

Bengals (+3) over Texans

Saints (-11) over Lions

Giants (-3) over Falcons

Steelers (-9) over Broncos

Last Week:  8-6-2

Best Week:  8-4-1 (Week 5)

Overall:  109-133-14 (.453)

Nate, Mike & Keith are childhood Maine friends. They’re also assholes.

Episode 109 – Solomon Donkey

Sheriff Ford:  Get back here, Kowalski!

Keith:  No way, Sheriff!

(A shot fires over Keith’s head and he kicks his donkey into gear as they head toward a sandy dune outside of Freeport…)

Keith:  C’mon, Solomon! C’mon, Sol! Let’s git!

(The Sheriff holds a hand up and his posse stops as they watch Keith and his donkey vanish over the horizon…)

Deputy Paul:  Let’s git ‘em, Sheriff!

Sheriff:  No need, Deputy. He’s headin’ into the Desert of Maine. No man makes it out of there alive.

Deputy:  I don’t think that’s true, Sheriff.

Officer Jones:  Yeah Sheriff, it’s only a forty acre tract of land. I had a picnic with my family there last weekend.

Sheriff:  Yeah well, he’s really dumb.

~~~

(Keith is riding his donkey over sand dunes, sipping on warm flat beer…)

Keith:  Oh God, Sol. It’s so hot. I don’t think these beers are properly quenching my thirst. Sing a song to cool me down.

Solomon:  (grunts)

Keith:  Oh, that’s right. You’re a donkey.

(Keith hears a moan coming from behind a nearby dune and points his donkey in that direction. As he reaches the dune, he finds a man laying prone on his stomach, severely sunburnt. Keith hops off Solomon and kicks the downed man…)

Keith:  Hey, you. Desert’s not for sleepin’. This is how the Egyptians went extinct.

(Keith turns the man over and is shocked to find his good friend Nate Shoops…)

Nate:  Buhhhhh.

Keith:  Oh my gosh! Nate!

(Keith pours the rest of the can of warm beer on Nate’s face and he sputters to life…)

Nate:  Buh. Fuh. Wha?

Keith:  Nate. It’s Keith Kowalski, your good friend and close confidante.

Nate:  (squints up at the shadow blocking the sun)  Where the fuck have you been?

Keith:  There were complications.

Nate:  You said it would be an easy bank robbery and we’d make our escape through the desert. That was four days ago. Explain. And gimme some of that beer, I’m thirsty.

Keith:  Well, first of all: no, it’s mine. And secondly, like I said, complications.

Nate:  (pulls a shotgun out from under him and points it at his good friend Keith)  Give. Me. A beer.

Keith:  (reluctantly tosses a can in the sand)  Jeez, fine. You don’t have to be such a grump.

Nate:  (cringes as he chugs the hot beer)  Now what the heck happened back in Freeport?

Keith:  Well, I told you about that bank teller I was going to seduce who was going to get me into the safe? Turns out she was also the Sheriff’s daughter, so I fucked up.

Nate:  And it took four days for you to figure that out?

Keith:  Well, I’m not Casanova!

Nate:  I knew we should have had Mike play the seduction part.

Keith:  Oh, please. That fat-ass couldn’t seduce his way out of a wet paper bag.

Nate:  You make less and less sense every day.

Keith:  Let’s get out of the heat. I think I’m getting sunstroke.

Nate:  At least you haven’t been sleeping in a desert for four days!

Keith:  Oh, boo hoo.

Nate:  And I thought you were procuring us a getaway horse.

Keith:  Donkey’s close enough. It’s like a retarded horse. Now hop on my ass, Nate.

(Nate climbs onto the back of Solomon the donkey as Keith chortles…)

Keith:  Get it? Because donkeys?

~~~

(Nate hugs Keith’s waist as Solomon ambles across the Desert of Maine…)

Keith:  I feel like such a cowboy right now.

Nate:  Shut up.

Keith:  We’re like the James Gang ripping across the Old West.

Nate:  Shut up.

Keith:  Let’s go wrassle up some varmints.

Nate:  Shut up.

~~~

(Late that evening, Nate, Keith and Solomon arrive outside a diner west of Freeport…)

Keith:  Looky there, pardner. A saloon!

Nate:  If you call me ‘pardner’ one more time…

Keith:  Let’s head in and see if they got any vittles.

(Keith ties his donkey to a post and he and Nate trudge into the diner, where they see Mike sitting at the counter and sit down on opposite sides of him…)

Keith:  ‘Sup, Mike.

Mike:  Where the hell have you two been? You know how many coffees I’ve had to order? I could piss steel right now. Whoa Nate, you look haggard.

(Nate dives into Mike’s half-finished soup…)

Mike:  So? What happened?

Nate:  (sucking on a ketchup packet)  Complications.

Mike:  So…no bank robbery?

Keith:  Nope. And I’m pretty sure the Sheriff of Freeport is on my ass. The donkey made good time, though.

Mike:  The donkey?

Keith:  Yeah, Solomon. He rules.

Mike:  Well, that’s disappointing. But not surprising. I think we got in over our heads with this whole bank robbing thing. That’s too big a score for us. We should stick to what we know.

Keith:  (grins)  Like saloon robbin’?

(Mike smiles as Nate falls asleep in his soup bowl. Mike and Keith kick over their stools and Mike fires Nate’s shotgun into the ceiling…)

Mike:  Everybody stay calm! This is a robbery!

Keith:  Hand over the gold, ya varmints!

Nate:  (blows bubbles in soup)

(A waitress empties the register as Mike and Keith laugh at each other…)

Keith:  Just like the olden days!

Mike:  Stick to what ya know, Keith. Stick to what ya know.

Keith:  Nothing could possibly mess up this robbery!

(Solomon the donkey suddenly bursts through the front window and begins kicking over everyone and everything in sight…)

Keith:  Solomon, no!

(Keith gets kicked in the head and is knocked out cold…)

Cook:  (glaring from the kitchen)  No donkeys allowed!

~~~

(The next morning, the three assholes wake up in a cell in Freeport Prison. Keith frantically glances around the cell…)

Keith:  Solomon! Solomon! Solomooooooooon!

(Sheriff Ford chuckles at his prisoners from behind the bars…)

Sheriff:  You thought you could get away with it, didn’t you Kowalski?

Keith:  Get away with what? I didn’t even do anything!

Sheriff:  You stole that donkey. And you fucked my daughter.

Keith:  (looks down)  Nah. I just made that up so you’d think I was cool.

Sheriff:  Why would I–  (shakes his head)  Well, you still stole that donkey.

Keith:  I won that donkey in a card game and he’s my best friend and you can’t have him!

Deputy:  Story checks out, Sheriff.

Sheriff:  Well, then….loitering in a desert!

Keith:  (groans)  Jeez. Thanks a lot, Nate!

Nate:  (vomits sand)

WEEK SEVENTEEN

Mamma Baldacci’s!

Packers (+4) over Lions

49ers (-11) over Rams

Jets (+2) over Dolphins

Bears (+1) over Vikings

Patriots (-11) over Bills

Saints (-8) over Panthers

Eagles (-9) over Redskins

Colts (+4) over Jaguars

Titans (-3) over Texans

Buccaneers (+12) over Falcons

Bengals (+3) over Ravens

Browns (+8) over Steelers

Broncos (-4) 0ver Chiefs

Chargers (+3) over Raiders

Cardinals (-3) over Seahawks

Giants (-3) over Cowboys

Last Week:  5-10-1

Best Week:  8-4-1 (Week 5)

Overall:  101-127-12 (.446)