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Preston Publishing
written by: Jim Bevan


Anderson... Darrell Hammond
Collins... Tom Brady
Samantha (V/O)... Amy Poehler
Martin... Seth Meyers


(open on a typical corporate office; a potted plant in the corner, bookshelves lining the rear walls, various personal effects positioned on the desk along with work-related materials, ect. Mr. Anderson, an editor for Preston Publishing, sits behind the desk with a thick book in his left hand and his right hand resting on an intercom. Across from him sits Mr. Collins, an aspiring writer, who eagerly anticipates what Anderson has to say to him. They both politely smile at each other.)

Anderson: Well Mr. Collins, let me start off by saying that your novel is the finest work of dramatic fiction I have read in the past ten years. And I must add that I am honored that you have chosen Preston Publishing to distribute your masterpiece. (places the book down on the desk.) I can assure you that our distribution of "Dreams of Utopia" will make you a very wealthy man.

Collins: (happily) Thank you very much, sir. This book was a labor of love, and I can't wait to share it with the world. I'm ecstatic that your company has agreed to publish it; I can't thank you enough.

Anderson: (chuckling politely) Oh, it's our pleasure. Now, uh, before we finalize this for distribution, there is one minor change we'd like to make. With your approval, of course.

Collins: Oh. Well as long as it doesn't hurt the story, I don't see any problems with it. What do you want me to do? Get rid of a few lines of insignificant dialogue, change a minor setting?

Anderson: No, no, nothing like that. We just need to fix the name of one of your characters.

Collins: (mulling it over) Seems reasonable. Which one do you want to change?

Anderson: You know your protagonist, Michael Frakes. (Collins nods) My superiors are fine with that, but they want to fix the name of his friend, the one you named... (grimaces) Douche-cock McGee.

Collins: What do they see wrong? Is it too ethnic?

Anderson (surprised) What? No, no!

Collins: I know it's nothing big, I just felt that there weren't enough characters with a Scottish heritage in literature today, and I wanted to...

Anderson: (interrupting) No, Mr. Collins. It's not his ethnicity we're having problems with. It's his first name.

Collins: (not following) I'm afraid I don't understand, sir. What's wrong with the name Douche-cock?

Anderson: (incredulously) What's... what's wrong with Douche-cock? Mr. Collins, this is a very dramatic work you've written here; it has a serious air about it. And yet you've given one of the deepest, most intricate characters an incredibly offensive first name. Readers won't regard him as a valuable character. Worse yet, they won't take the book itself seriously.

Collins: Forgive me if I seem doubtful, Mr. Anderson, but I don't think that Douche-cock's name will cause others to not take him seriously. I mean, we've seen in society that such seemingly "vulgar" names don't affect a man's status. Just look at Dick Butkus. Or the Dukakis family. Or former basketball great Magic Johnson. Or singing legend Joe Cocker.

Anderson: (droll) Yes, yes, I understand.

Collins: What about Lyndon Baines Johnson? He was one of the most respected president's in history, and his initials pronounced a Spanish sex act.

Anderson: (becoming impatient) All right, you've made your point, sir.

Collins: (butting in) Don't forget former Chief Justice Michael Hunt.

Anderson: (loudly) There was never a Michael Hunt on the Supreme Court! (breathes deeply and calms down) I'm sorry for losing my temper like that, Mr. Collins. You make a valid argument. Yes, there are countless individuals who have names that can be interpreted as being obscene and are still treated with respect. (grimaces) The character of Douche-cock McGee, however, has a name that is directly obscene, not indirectly. And that is why we need to change it to something less offensive if we're to publish your work.

(Collins rests his hands on his lap and sighs)

Collins: Mr. Anderson, I didn't want to have have to bring this up as it's very personal to me. But, the character of Douche-cock McGee is based on a very good friend of mine who, sadly, is no longer with us.

Anderson: (surprised) Really?

Collins: (somewhat depressed) Yes, he passed away late last year. He was a very kind man, and he did a lot of good work for the community. And... (breathes deeply), he had a rather unusual name which subjected him to jeers and taunts. But he never let those harsh words get to him, and he lived a rich, prosperous life. He was a very good friend of my family, and he taught me to never let the cruelty of others put me down. I owe a lot to him, and that's why I based this character on him. It's my way of saying "thank you." (he sniffles and wipes away a tear)

Anderson: (sympathetically) I... had no idea that this man was so close to you. But I understand now you reason for wanting to pay tribute to him in your book. If you don't mind my asking, what was his name?

Collins: Douche-cock DeAngelo.

(Anderson scowls slightly)

Collins: You know, he left a lot of money to the local hospital in his will. They're naming the new children's wing after him.

Anderson: (sighing) Well, that's a completely different problem. (Takes a few seconds to compose his next words) Mr. Collins, I can undertand your personal connections to the man you based this character on, and I know this may seem selfish, but Preston Publishing needs a serious, well-written novel to enhance our clout. It's been about four years since we released any truly serious works. Practically every book that's been issued in that time has been mediocre or a complete joke. Just look at some of the manuscripts we've been sent by aspiring "writers." (He opens a desk drawer and brings out a few stacks of paper. As he speaks, he holds up one manuscript in front of Collins) "The Picasso Code", the story of an art scholar who believes that Picasso hid pornographic messages in his cubist paintings. (He puts it down and holds up another) A biography of Harry Truman which claims that he was a world-renowned mummy hunter. (He puts that down and holds up one more) And scraping the bottom of the barrel, "Fifteen Hundred Penis Jokes for Every Occasion."

Collins: I see what you mean. I mean, there's no way a penis joke can be appropriate for every occasion.

Anderson: What's worse are the jokes it contains. Listen to what this genius considers funny. (He opens the manuscript and starts reading from it.) "Two penises walk into a bar...". "Why did the penis cross the road?" "How many penises does it take to screw in a light bulb?" (He sighs, closes the sheets and puts it back in the drawer) I'm not even going to subject you to the knock-knock jokes. As you can see, Mr. Collins, we wouldn't sleep well at night if we were responsible for releasing these works on the public. That is why I must ask again...

(Anderson's intercom buzzes. He grumbles and answers it.)

Yes, Samantha.

Samantha (V/O): Sir, Mr. Martin is here to see you regarding his book.

Anderson: (annoyed) Oh good Lord, he's back. (sighs) Fine, send him in.

(The door opens and Martin walks in. He is dressed in very loud clothing, has a wide smile on his face, and just radiates an aura of annoyance. He holds a stack of paper in his hand)

Martin: (over-enthusiastically) Hey hey hey! Andy, baby, how ya been?

Anderson: (with false politeness) Oh I've been doing well, Mr. Martin. Might I ask what you're doing here?

Martin: I just came by to check on how my penis joke book was coming along. Did the a-holes in upper management finally greenlight it, huh, huh?

Anderson: No, I'm sorry, it still needs to go through another... (fumbles for an excuse) spell check. Don't ask me why, we've got a lot of red tape here.

Martin: Hey, no problem! I can wait. There's another reason I stopped in, though. I wrote a compilation piece for it, thought ya could release them together.

(Martin hands Anderson the papers in his hands. He looks at the title on the front page incredulously)

Anderson: "Fifteen Hundred Vagina Jokes for every Occasion?"

Martin: Yeah! I thought they'd go great together. Penis, vagina, side by side. It would be a great book set! I mean, sure, all the jokes are the same ones from the last one with "vagina" replacing "penis" in every joke, but what the hell. People are stupid, they won't notice it. You know people are stupid, right? You've seen plenty of examples.

Anderson: (looking at Martin) I can think of a good example right now.

Martin: (laughing) Oh man, you are too good. Well, I'd love to stay and chat, but I've got a stand-up gig in half an hour. (He looks at Collins, points at him and smiles) Hey buddy, you made a good choice coming down here. These guys are great, you're gonna be a star with your book. (He heads to the door and walks out, sticking his head through as his body is out.) See ya next week, Andy. Oh, take my penis... please! Ha ha!

(He walks out and closes the door behind him. Anderson takes the manuscript he was given and dumps it in a trash can by his desk. Collins looks on in confusion)

Anderson: How that idiot managed to survive outside the womb is beyond my comprehension. (looks at Collins) Now Mr. Collins, again, I implore you, please let us change this character's name. It's not just for our company's credibility, but for the good of society. Imagine what would happen if this book is published in its current state: high-school students will write book reports on the significance of Douche-cock McGee. He'll be the main topic of discussion at book clubs and Mensa literary discussions. And what if it's adapted for film? Can you see prominent actors such as Russell Crowe and Mel Gibson auditioning for the role of Douche-cock McGee? Please, Mr. Collins, please.

(Collins sits contemplatively for a few seconds, mulling over Anderson's words. He rubs his chin and looks at Anderson.)

Collins: When you put it that way, I see your concerns. I suppose we could change it. How does Tom Carson sound?

Anderson: (smiling) Tom Carson... that's perfect! It's a completely acceptable name.

Collins: Well, I'm glad you approve. Besides, I can always mention Douche-cock DeAngelo on the dedication page.

Anderson: (enthusiastically) Sure, go ahead! Nobody reads that anyway! (Stands up and extends his hand) Congratulations, Mr. Collins, you've got a novel!

(Collins stands up and shakes Anderson's hand)

Collins: Thank you very much, sir!

(Cut to a spinning book, which shows a man and woman in their 20s standing on a grassy hilltop and staring at a golden city. The words "DREAMS OF UTOPIA" are at the top of the cover. At the bottom of the cover are the words "A Novel by Michael Sheepshagger Collins.)

(Fade out)


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