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My Two Dads

Posted in erbooker by erbooker on 08/02/2012

Randolph:  Honey, I’m home.  (throws hat on coat rack, misses)

Studio Audience:  (applauds)

Curry:  (walks out of kitchen with apron on)  Where have you been? I’ve been worried sick.

Randolph:  Picked up some dinner on the way home; chicken sandwiches, your favorite. The line was around the block. Must be some sort of chicken holiday.

Curry:  Zachary, chicken sandwiches are your favorite. You know I’m poultry-intolerant. Besides, I’ve been slaving over a hot oven all afternoon making lasagna for dinner.

Randolph:  Well, how was I supposed to know that?

Curry:  You could’ve given me a…ring.  (flashes championship ring, winks at camera)

Studio Audience:  (hoots, applauds)

Randolph:  (frowns)

Studio Audience:  (laughs)

(Knock at door, Zach answers to find son, Nate Robinson, with a police officer…)

Curry:  Nathan! What have you done now?

Robinson:  Nothing, mom. Leave me alone!  (runs upstairs)

Officer:  We found your son and his friends shooting squirt guns at cars off the Old Town Bridge. We’re not filing any charges; but you oughta have a talk with that boy.

Randolph:  Thank you, officer. It won’t happen again.  (shuts door)  Pig.

Studio Audience:  (laughs)

Officer:  (on other side of door)  What was that?

Randolph:  Nothing.

Curry:  Zachary, what are we gonna do with that boy?

Randolph:  He’s just acting out. Desperate for attention.

Curry:  You should really sit down and have a word with him.

Randolph:  Every time I try to talk to that kid now he just says #WORDAAPP. I mean, what is that pound sign even doing there?

Curry:  Well, let’s give him a little while to calm down. Besides, he has to study for his…finals.  (flashes ring, winks)

Studio Audience:  (laughs)

Randolph:  He’s on summer vacation. You’re forcing it, Eddy.

(Knock at door, Zach answers to find next-door neighbor Matt Carroll…)

Carroll:  Did somebody say ‘chicken’?

Studio Audience:  (cheers, whoops)

Randolph:  No.

Studio Audience:  (laughs)

Carroll:  (chortles, lets himself in)  Smells delish, Mrs. C.

Curry:  Well, it’s not my cooking. Zach bought chicken sandwiches; ’cause all he thinks about is himself, as usual.

Carroll:  Oh, for the chicken holiday?

Randolph:  Yeah, were you in that line?

Carroll:  Yup. At the back. They ran out of chicken by the time I got to the front.  (pouts)

Studio Audience:  Awwww.

Randolph:  (sighs)  Would you like to stay for dinner, Matt?

(Zach and Eddy turn around to find Matt Carroll at the dining room table, napkin tucked in collar, knife and fork in hand…)

Carroll:  Cluck yes!  (chortles)

Studio Audience:  (laughs)

(Zach and Eddy join Matt at the table and dig into the chicken sandwiches…)

Curry:  I guess we can just have lasagna tomorrow night. Nate, honey? You want to join us for dinner?

Robinson:  (hollering from his upstairs bedroom)  No! I hate you!

Curry:  (chuckles)  That’s our little…champ.  (flashes ring, winks)

Carroll:  (chortles)

Randolph:  (scowls)

Studio Audience:  (laughs)

Randolph:  Mmm, these chicken sandwiches are damn good.

Curry:  You are right about that. I’ve already forgotten what we were arguing about.

Carroll:  (chortles)  You were arguing about how Mr. Randolph never listens.

Randolph:  Thanks, Matt.

Carroll:  No problem, Mr. Randolph.

Curry:  Well, you know what they say. Get outta the kitchen if you can’t stand the…Heat.  (flashes ring, winks)

Carroll:  (chortles, chokes on chicken)

Randolph:  I want a divorce.

Studio Audience:  (uproarious laughter, hooting, applause)

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