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King Family Residence – Episode 1.15

Posted in erbooker by erbooker on 07/17/2010

“King Family Residence is filmed before a live studio audience..”

Episode 15 – “The Immigrants”

(Martin King is in line at the Rumford Taco Bell while the customer in front of him is carrying on a conversation in Spanish with the counter clerk. Finally, Martin throws his arms into the sky..)

Martin: Oh, that does it! These immigrants are out of control!


(Martin unnecessarily stomps into Jafar’s Bazaar..)

Jafar: (sighs)  What seems to be the trouble, my friend?

Martin: I’m sore, Jafar!

Jafar: What has gotten your goat this time around?

Martin: (glances at Jafar & unwraps an ice cream Drumstick)  You Arabs and your goats.

Jafar: You must pay for that.

Martin: (waves his hand)  Nah, I know the guy that runs this place. It’s the immigrants, Jafar!

Jafar: This coming from a Chinese man living in Maine, speaking to his Iranian friend.

Martin: No, you idiot. Real immigrants. The illegal kind.

Jafar: (shrugs)

Martin: (leans in closer, whispering)  Mexicans.

Jafar: (rolls his eyes)  Is this conversation going to quickly devolve into another of your racially-charged rants?

Martin: Probably. But it’s become clear to me in the last half hour or so that somebody’s gotta do something about this illegal immigration situation in this country!

Jafar: And that somebody is you?

Martin: Sho nuff!


(Later that day, local meth-head Bennie runs into Martin with his toolbox on the outskirts of town..)

Bennie: Hey man, whatcha doin’?

Martin: Hey, Bennie. Building a fence. Wanna help?

Bennie: (shrugs)  Sure. Can I get high first?

Martin: No, I’m gonna have you be sober with zero energy while we do hard labor. Smoke up, Methy!

Bennie: Thanks, bro. (hits meth pipe)  So, what’s the fence for?

Martin: To keep all the illegal immigrants out of our beautiful town.

Bennie: Beautiful town, did you move?

Martin: Help me put this spike strip down over the road.


(The next morning, Martin steps out onto the front stoop in a wife-beater & briefs, staring down at the spot where the newspaper usually is..)

Martin: Honey! Where’s the Oxford County Herald?

Osaku: They can’t deliver it anymore, ever since you put that wall up.

Martin: (claps his hands)  Well, at least we know it works! I’ll just watch the TV news instead. Less reading.

(Martin flips on Channel 11, where lead anchor Tom Shimansky is reporting..)

Shimansky: Trucks delivering food, water and precious, precious alcohol. A school bus full of children returning from an overnight field trip to Portland. A traveling circus. Trains carrying maple syrup in from Canada. All have been stopped in their tracks by a mysterious fence which was seemingly raised overnight. It’s origin: Unknown. It’s purpose: Unknown. It’s color? Gray.

Martin: (frowns)  Maybe I should’ve gone with black. Stupid Shimansky didn’t mention anything about all the dangerous Mexicans who have been kept at bay!

Shimansky: Local firemen and volunteer citizens have begun dismantling the baffling structure since sunup. Roads should be properly cleared by nightfall.

Martin: (shoots up off the couch)  No! My Patriot Wall!

Shimansky: Some have said that the fence may have been erected in order to keep out illegal aliens–

Martin: (scoffs)  Aliens! Those don’t even exist, you idiot!

Bennie: (peeks his head in the front door)  Did you hear? Shimansky said ‘erected’ on live television!

Martin: (throws a finger at Bennie)  Get back in your hole, Methy!

Shimansky: But experts have stated this would be ridiculous and fruitless, as the fence is only three feet high and everyone knows Mexicans have the ability to jump very high. We’ll be right back.

Martin: (nods)  He’s right. Mexican jumping beans.

Bennie: (knocks on the living room window)  What are we gonna do now?

Martin: There’s only one thing left to do: Racial profiling.


(Martin has been wandering up to random people in the Rumford Town Square for the past hour. He sees a short, tan woman and taps her on the shoulder..)

Martin: Are you a filthy Mexican?

Woman: Excuse me?

Martin: Sorry, political correctness. Are you a Mexican?

Woman: No.

Martin: Damn!

(A diminutive Mexican man walks by & Martin grabs him..)

Martin: Gotcha, Mexican!

Paco: Que?

Martin: Don’t try to use your fancy Spanish linguistics on me, Paco! What’s your name?

Paco: Me llamo Paco.

Martin: Very funny, Paco. Seriously, what’s your name?

Paco: Me llamo Paco.

Martin: Wow, that was a really good guess. Are you Mexican?

Paco: Si.

Martin: (pumps his fist emphatically)  Racial profiling does work! You’re coming with me, Paco.

Paco: Okay, meester.


(That afternoon, Martin is relaxing on a lawn chair in the backyard drinking a John Daly – an Arnold Palmer with a shitload of Everclear – while Paco digs a hole. Bennie sits down next to Martin & lights up his meth pipe..)

Bennie: What’s your slave digging?

Martin: Hole. And he’s not a slave. He hasn’t even sung one hymnal!

Bennie: Nice, can I have that hole?

Martin: What’s wrong with your hole in the front yard?

Bennie: I’ve been looking for something in a backyard hole.

Martin: Sorry, pal. This one’s just for daddy.

Bennie: Heh, weird. Where’s your slave gonna live?

Martin: Again, not a slave. And I thought he could crash with you.

Bennie: Sweet! We can be hole buddies!

Martin: That’s great, just…don’t call it that.

Bennie: All this crystal’s makin’ me hungry.

Martin: Taco Bell?

Bennie: Taco Bell.

(Paco peeks out from Martin’s hole..)

Paco: Can I come, meester?

Martin: (explodes)  BACK TO WORK, SLAVE!

Paco: (pouts)

Martin: I’ll bring you back a cheesy gordita crunch.

Paco: (grins)


(Martin & Bennie have been standing in line at Taco Bell for ten minutes as the person in front of them is carrying on a long conversation in Spanish with the counter clerk. Martin is growing frustrated..)

Martin: Oh, that’s it! You immigrants have got me on my last nerve! I wanna speak to your manager!

(The customer in front of them turns around and holds out his hand..)

Miguel: I’m the manager. Name’s Miguel. Can I help you, sir?

Martin: (taken aback)  You’re the manager?

Miguel: Yes, sir.

Martin: But you’re a–a alien!

Miguel: Pardon me, sir?

Martin: Every time I come in here, you guys are carrying on in your native tongue and I never get any service. I demand respect!

Miguel: Your name is Martin King, is it not?

Martin: Yeah, what’s it to you?

Miguel: Sir, the reason we don’t serve you is because you’ve been banned from this establishment.

Bennie: (laughs)  Ooh, damn! He burned you!

Martin: Banned? Why have I been banned?

(Miguel invites Martin & Bennie into his back office and turns on the TV playing surveillance footage..)

Miguel: This was taken four months ago.

Martin: Can we get some tacos while we watch this?


(Martin stumbles into the restaurant wearing a giant foam cowboy hat and carrying a long Bourbon Street-style drink..)

Martin: Whoo! Mardi Gras!

Bennie: (turning to Martin)  Isn’t Mardi Gras in March?

(Video Martin slams a hand down on the counter..)

Video Martin: Gimme some tacos, faggot!

Martin: (points at the screen)  That was out of line.

(Video Martin climbs over the counter and starts building his own burrito..)

Video Martin: Gonna need alotta fuckin’ tomatoes up here!

Miguel: (scowls at Martin)

Martin: (shrugs, smiling sheepishly)  I like tomatoes.

(Video Martin is approached by Video Miguel..)

Video Miguel: Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to return to the other side of the counter. This kitchen is for Taco Bell employees only.

(Video Martin picks up the honking burrito and smashes it in Video Miguel’s face..)

Video Martin: Right in the cabasa!

Martin: (turns to Miguel)  ‘Cabasa’ is the right word though, correct?

(Video Martin shoves Miguel and they start wrestling on the floor before being broken up by a teenage taco artist..)

Martin: I remember almost none of this. I remember that hat.

(Video Martin is finally kicked out; but not before rushing back in, dropping his slacks and taking a crap on the floor..)

Video Martin: (screams)  Poop Attack!

Martin: You gotta admit, Miguel. That’s pretty funny.

Miguel: (shuts off the television)  Yeah, so that’s why you’ve been banned. So if you’ll please leave..

Martin: (pouts)  Fine.

(Martin & Bennie exit the Taco Bell and Bennie is getting into the passenger’s side of Martin’s car when he glances over at a grinning Martin who winks and sprints back inside. From the parking lot, Bennie can hear an old lady shriek..)

Martin: (hollering)  Poop Attack!

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