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The Aguilera House
written by: Mario Lanza


Christina Aguilera ... Maya Rudolph
Mom Aguilera ... Ana Gasteyer
Dad Aguilera ... Chris Parnell


[Scene opens in a nice suburban house. Two midwestern looking parents are sitting on the couch, dad reading a newspaper and mom doing cross-stitch. Looks like your perfectly ordinary family room. Chris Parnell and Ana Gasteyer have played these characters many times before. They are making small talk.]

Dad: So I took the Volvo into the shop today.

Mom: Oh, good. That thing was driving me crazy. I sure hope they fix that radiator.

[The telephone rings. Mr. Aguilera reaches over to answer it.]

Dad: Hello, Aguilera house. [pause] Yes, this is Christina's father. [pause] No, she can't come to the phone right now. She's getting dressed. [pause] Yes, for the big concert tonight. [pause] No, I'm sorry, I can't ask her for an autograph. Call back later and ask her yourself. Alright, goodbye then. [Hangs up phone.]

Mom: Who was that, dear?

Dad: His name was Brian. Wanted to go out with Christina tonight.

Mom: Oh, that's sweet. He sounds like a nice boy.

[Christina Aguilera walks quickly in the room. She is dressed in a skimpy tank top and tight leather pants, with a ton of makeup.]

Christina: Hi mom, dad. I'm off. Ciao!

Dad: Wait just a darn minute there, young lady! Let us take a look at you.

Mom: You know the rules.

Christina: But I'm late! I have to get down to wardrobe before the show!

Dad: [frowning disapprovingly] Honey, we can't let you go out like this. Look at that outfit.

Mom: [shaking her head] This will not do.

Christina: This is how I always dress! Stop trying to run my life!

Dad: We just think you need to whore it up a little more.

Christina: [caught off guard] No! [a confused pause] Wait. What?

Mom: You hardly look cheap at all, honey. Don't you want to put on something, you know, a little more trashy?

Dad: Look here [pointing at her pants]. I can't even see a panty line there. Are you sure those pants are tight enough?

Christina: [shocked] Dad!

Mom: If you are going to be the biggest star in the world, you are just going to have to overskank that wardrobe, dear. Why, I can still see some of your face under that makeup. Didn't you use the spackle brush I gave you?

Dad: And that hair, look at it! It's hardly mussed at all!

Mom: I've told you time and time again. It should look as if you just had anonymous sex with a stranger against a wall. You look as if you've barely been touched!

Christina: Mother!!!!

Dad: You listen to your mother. Now go upstairs, put on some fishnets, slit that skirt, take off the bra, and toss that hair around.

Christina: Why do you always do this to me??

Mom: Christina, honey, if you don't look like you are begging for it, no one is going to buy your albums.

Christina: [angrily sobbing] I bet Britney's parents don't treat her like this!!!

Dad: [walking up to put an arm around his daughter] Chrissy, we have gone over this before. Britney has the body of a mature woman, she doesn't need to dress as trashy as you do. You have a body more like... [pausing to think of the right word]

Mom: [interrupting] ... A 12 year old.

Dad: Yes, a 12 year old. I'm sorry, dear, but it's true. You have the voice, but without the slutty image, you just won't have what it takes. Why, at this stage of her career, Madonna was much trashier than you are. She was poked more times than a pincushion, but look at her now, the queen of pop music! Isn't that what you always wanted?

Christina: [sniffling] Y--yes.

Mom: Remember, dear, you are the queen of jailbait. Hold your head up high.

Christina: But mom, I'm 21 years old! I'm not jailbait!

Dad: [shushing her] But they don't know that. Millions of middle aged men will see you on that stage tonight, a preteen girl, strutting your stuff, preening, silently asking for it.

Mom: [nodding] Listen to your father.

Dad: Now I expect them to all leave that concert with a full erection.

Christina: Eww! Gross!

Mom: Honey, it's true. Your path to stardom is through the wet dream of every middle aged man in America.

[Christina silently thinks this over]

Dad: Think of all the little pre-teen girls out there. They look up at you. Who will they emulate when they are older, Charlotte Church? I think not. They want someone cheap and trashy to follow. They need a role model. They need a leader.

Mom: If you don't do it, [dramatic pause] Britney will.

Christina: [quietly resigned] Ok, I'll go change.

Dad: [patting her on the shoulder] Thata girl. [pause] Remember, full erections.

[Christina leaves to go change her clothes]

Mom: [calling after her] Don't forget the thigh high "do-me" boots!

[Dad returns to sit on the couch, reading his newspaper. Mom resumes her needlepoint. They resume the small talk.]

Mom: So I had breakfast with Margaret this morning. She brought some of her homegrown roses.

Dad: Oh really? Tell her hi for me. We've really got to go see her new garden shed someday.

[Scene fades out]


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