|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Radford James.....Kenan Thompson Harold Guffrey.....Luke Wilson Barman Tim.....Rob Riggle Torrance Handley.....Darrell Hammond (Open to a fairly dirty bar, a juke box in the background. Radford James (Kenan Thompson) sits at the bar, an empty scotch to his left and a partially full glass on his right. He looks forlorn, and not entirely wasted. Barman Tim (Rob Riggle) wipes the bar surface upstage of him. Harold Guffrey (Luke Wilson) enters and sits down next to Radford.) Harold: Barman -- Radford: His name is Tim. Harold: Tim, can I get a -- Radford: My name is Radford, thank you for asking. Yes, it's Radford and I didn't change my name ... my parents thought it was poetic. Rad-ford, when I young my friends called me Rad; that was a (makes quotation motions with his fingers) "hip" word. Now I drive a Ford ... a used, ugly Ford. Not even a Tempo, the kind with a model name no one recognizes anymore. Harold: Wow ... Tim, can I get a -- Radford: I bet you drive a Honda. Harold: Actually, I do. That's pretty cool; how did you know? Radford: I saw you drive up. (Harold appears immediately disinterested) What's your name? Harold: Harold. Radford: Did your parents want to be poets? Harold: No, it's a family name. Radford: My family abandoned me, I was a disgrace. That's when I took to the stage. Harold: You're an actor? I'm a writer. Radford: (putting on a theatrical facade) I dare you impress those sweet words upon my ears once again lest they deceived me out of spite. Harold: (slightly amused) What have you been in? Radford: I think you'll remember this one; Tim, will you do the honors? Barman Tim: (in a high feminine voice) Honey, come to bed. Radford: I can't - my head (a beat) and my throat, and nose. I've got a cold. (Coughs weakly ... then points and winks with an obnoxious grin over to Barman Tim) Barman Tim: (in high voice) Why don't you take Johnson and Kurt's Peppermint Cough Syrup? It'll put you at peace ... Radford: So I can hit the sheets. Scene. What'd you think? Quality? Harold: You're a commercial actor? Radford: (Scoffs) I beg your pardon! I am a trained thespian who partakes in the expression of not only art and creation but also the fundamental ideals from which this nation was born! Harold: You're a commercial actor. Radford: Yeah, but I do other stuff. Harold: Look, I'll give you my card. Send a resume and an audition tape and someone will give you a call. Radford: Ouch - ow! (Putting his hands to his head) OW!!! It's like a pain; it goes from the base of my neck to right between my eyes. I can't move my face, I can't open my eyes! AH! Ah! It's dark, someone shut the door, Jesus won't you open a window! Harold: Oh my - are you okay? Radford: (snaps out of it) You liked that, didn't you? Yeah? That's the quality shiz-nit we're talkin' about. You've got to give me a chance. Let me see the script, I will work it like it's never been worked. Harold: I don't have it with me. I'm not some struggling writer who pitches to every director, producer, low level exec around. Radford: I know what you mean, there,s nothing worse than seeing an actor throw his dignity and talented onto the poop deck of a Paramount yacht. Harold: Exactly. Radford: It is one thing to proudly display one's abilities, as I have tastefully done this evening; and quite another to pimp out the heritage and honor of the theatrical tradition. Harold: Writing is a personal craft, like making sweet love to a woman you didn't have to pay. Like waking up to a morning sunrise and honestly being grateful you're alive that day. Radford: (chokes up) That's beautiful. Really, I'm moved. (Points to Barman Tim) We need some Scotch. Harold: The divine nectar of Heaven. (Torrance Handley (Darrell Hammond) enters, dressed in a nice suit. He sits down at the bar, lights a cigar and smiles to himself a little over confidently.) Torrance: (in a Southernish drawl) Barman -- Radford: His name's ... Torrance: Tim. Get me a glass of the finest. Radford: I'm Radford James; my parents thought it would be poetic ... Torrance: Pity, poetry is out, power is in. I'm Torrance Handley, of Paramount. (Radford and Harold who deeply inhale and freeze, rigid.) Torrance: I changed my name to Torrance, because I'm powerful, like a bull; Toro, toro. (Harold reaches into his pocket and pulls out a wrinkled screen play) Harold: Start at Page five, don't stop until I say so; I will play Olivia. Radford: (wipes sweat off his forehead) Red leather, yellow leather, Unique New York. The rain in Spain falls mainly on the plain. (Breathes in and out loudly and slowly a few times before striking an unnecessarily melodramatic pose.) Oliv-i-ah. I have never seen you so beautiful. Harold: (in a high voice) Oh, Mortigo ... tell me you love me. Tell me, before I die. Radford: I love you, I love you; but I love my freedom. I love the wind in my hair, a hooker's nails on my back. The sound of sirens chasing me, for no apparent reason. Harold: (high voice) You would tell me this? As I lay dying, after bearing your child? (Sobs) Radford: I can't lie ... because I love you. (The two lean in for a kiss.) Harold: And scene! (The freeze into a "Jazz hands" pose) That was an excerpt of "The Truth About I Love You" written by a (points towards himself) very talented writer. All it needs is a star ... Radford: And as an actor, I could think of a person to recommend. Harold: What'd ya' say? Torrance: (sets his cigar down ... in a nerdy west coast accent) Uh ... I just work in the mail room. (fade) Rate or review this sketch | Prior comments |
