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Montel: Sylvia, Help My Lazyass Husband!
written by: Chase Erwin


Montel.....Finesse Mitchell
Sylvia.....Rachel Dratch
Moqueesha.....Maya Rudolph
James.....Rev. Al Sharpton
Girl.....Tina Fey


Montel: Welcome, welcome, welcome. Today we have our resident psychic, Sylvia Browne with us today.

(applause as Sylvia enters)

Sylvia: Thanks very much, Montel.

Montel: Sylvia's new book is entitled 'The Lost Ones: Where Our Asses Go After We Cross.' Before we begin, tell us about that.

Sylvia: Yes, Montel. I believe that our asses are not able to cross on the other side when we pass on. Instead those ass-spirits float around and inhabit other people. Currently the posterior of J-Lo is inhabited by the butt-ghosts of my dear mother and sitcom star Nell Carter.

Montel: Fantastic. Well, today Sylvia, you are going to help out a family that has reached the breaking point. We are talking to James and Moqueesha Robinson, who are separated. Moqueesha says that James is possessed by a spirit that causes him to be unemployed for the last six years. Please welcome Moqueesha and James to the show.

(Moqueesha, wearing giant hoop earrings and a tank top, enters, followed behind by James, wearing oil-stained khakis and a shirt reading I BRAKE FOR KRISPY KREMES.

Montel: Sylvia, I'm going to let you take over the mike for a few minutes, and Moqueesha, I want you to tell Sylvia your story. And... go!

(Montel exits.)

Moqueesha: Sylvia, I just know I got me some sort of freaky devil thingy inside my little James here. I'm seriously at my breakin' point, girl.

Sylvia: Yessss. Yesss, I'm already sensing an additional essence on the stage. Tell me... what does James do. Take me through a typical day in the House of Robinson.

Moqueesha: Well. His day starts about 1 o'clock in the PM, when he makes himself a peanut butter and Sara Lee Ham sandwich and an Absolut chaser... in a *dirty* glass, girl. Then he proceeds to go into our media room and sit his butt down in front of the TV and watches reruns of Family Double Dare until 5. At which point, he'll either walk down to the 7-Eleven for a Mega Gulp Slurpee or to Harry's Bar And Tavern in the square for a Mega Gulp Beer Slurpee. When he finally gets home, do I get me any lovin'? NooooO! He just sits down and watches either 'Golden Girls' or more Double Dare.

(Sylvia has been making "mm-hmm" sounds throughout this speech, as well as wiggling the very long fingernails on her right hand.)

Sylvia: Mm-hmm. James, how do you wish to respond?

James: Woman, I ain't gonna tell you again to quit dissin' on Marc Summers like that. You don't know what that man been through! You don't! You don't understand anything bout me! I am injured, woman, see, and I can't get a job cuz they all involve either lifting things or walkin'. Only reason I ain't gettin' government assistance is cuz of that tape of me on Inside Edition.

Moqueesha: And THAT'S because you tried to turn our rooftop into your own personal Sundae Slide!

(James and Moqueesha begin shouting at each other very loudly. Sylvia attempts to control them. Finally they settle down.)

James: ...make me regret knockin' u up in da first place.

Sylvia: Well, it seems quite obvious to me that you are indeed, James, inhabited by a lazy spirit. It's as obvious as the fact that Montel is backstage at this very moment, smoking his medicinal *ganja*.

(Cut to Montel, backstage, in mid-hit of a green bong marked clearly with an "RX" symbol.)

Montel: What the--?? (Mouthing) It's a prescription! Prescription!

Sylvia: I believe.... (takes time to wiggle her right fingers again) I believe your guest's name is Tarquin, who for some reason has inhabited your spirit after he was killed in a freak mud wrestling accident in 'Nam.

James and Moqueesha: Woww....

Sylvia: Yes, it is impressive--now, what you need to do, aside from laying off your Nickelodeon, James...

James: Aw, man...

Sylvia: ...is to go away together on a romantic weekend. Spend some time, reacquainting yourself with each other's bodies. It seems as if Tarquin found you because of your complete lack of sexual relations, something he finds refreshing after so many unspoken liaisons in the muddy barracks.

(Cut to Montel, still in a cloud of smoke, mouthing the word 'wowwwwwwwwwwww.')

Sylvia: If you begin to rekindle those romantic fires, it should send Tarquin out quicker than an Army sergeant holding a Judy Garland album. I hope this helps.

James and Moqueesha: It does, Sylvia!

Sylvia: And... the the girl sitting here on the front row, your missing mother, the one who gave you up for adoption twenty-three years ago?

Girl: Uh... me? But, how did you...?

Sylvia: She's actually sitting next to you, right now!

(Girl turns to an elderly woman, sitting right beside her.)

Woman: A... Ashley? It's Mama, honey!

Girl: Mom?? *Chuckles* I... I can't believe--

(The girl suddenly bitchslaps the woman.)

Girl: Why the hell did you leave me, Mother? I hate you!

(Montel stumbles to the stage, little wisps of smoke still eminating from his nose and mouth.)

Montel: *Hack, cough* To--cough!--tomorrow, drug-addicted prostitutes get sent to boot camp. Join--cough-- join us on the next Montel!

(Pull out on the set, with James and Moqueesha hugging, the Girl still beating up on her mother, and Sylvia grabbing Montel and breathing deeply on his clothing.)


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