(At the Radicool Pizza Temp Agency. 2 Tons enters hurriedly, desperate for temporary employment. Spex is a French job placement employee par excellence.)
Spex: Bonjour, et welcome to the Radicool Pizza Home For Temporary Job Placement and Jellybean Tastery. And how may oui be of assistance toward vous?
2 Tons: I need a job. My grandfather is about to lose his Vanagon to the repo men if I don't score some major buckage, pronto!
Spex: D'accord, let me zee what is available immediatement so you can more queeckly, how you say, score some major buckage pronto.
(He turns to his computer.)
Spex: Le tap, le tap, entrez. Ah! We do have a job available for immediate employ.
2 Tons: I'll take it! What is it?
Spex: Tis at ze downtown Casio Bar.
2 Tons: Casio Bar?
Spex: Oui, it's like your American Piano Bar, mais avec a casio keyboard for cheaper stage representation.
2 Tons: But I can't play piano! I can type 96,000 words a minute, create excel PowerPoint spreadsheet document macro mail labels and do assloads of data entry, literally. But I've never known and will never know how to play piano. Never!
Spex: Monsieur, you misundercomprenez. You do not neeeeeed to play ze how you say piano.
2 Tons: F-shew! That's a relief.
Spex: You will neeeeeed to play ze how you say keyboard.
2 Tons: But-but-but-but!
Spex: But-but-but-but nussing! You will be naturellement, I swear upon my Frenchyness.
2 Tons: Well, if you say so.
Spex: Je me dit a peut etre chaud. Now, allons y!
2 Tons: Thank you! Thank you!
Spex: But of course.
(2 Tons wanders over to the other side of the stage where the keyboard is. He plays extraordinarily poorly.)
2 Tons: I write the songs, I write the songs, I write the songs, I write the songs, I write the songs, I write the songs, I write the sooooooooooooooooo (breath) ooooooooooooooooongs!
(He runs his finger haphazardly down the keyboard. Plays sporadically, then finds the demo button and pretends to play. Spex, as a patron walks over with a drink in his hand. 2 Tons doesn't notice at first but when he does he turns off the demo and they have a bit of a staring competition.)
Spex: Penny for your thoughts.
2 Tons: I think I'm in over my head.
Spex: That's pretty impressive for such a tall drinka scotch. Well, here you go.
(He drops a penny into 2 Tons's tip jar. 2 Tons looks at the penny and gets an idea. Information Society's "What's On Your Mind" begins playing. He places a Thoughts sign on his tip jar. Ike reenters as a different patron.)
2 Tons: Penny for my thoughts?
Spex: Don't mind if you do.
(Music back up as 2 Tons elaborately mimes talking and Spex elaborately downplays listening. Music fades back.)
2 Tons: And I think about bleach, how it makes your whites whiter but smells like high heaven, and airline food, am I right? Well, that's about it.
Spex: Very intriguing. How much do I owe you?
2 Tons: Well, let's see.
(He counts on his fingers and pulls out a calculator, crunching numbers. Crunch!)
2 Tons: At a penny per thought, that's $675.
Spex: Do you take a check?
(Music back up. 2 Tons removes the keyboard and stands. Music out.)
2 Tons: And seriously, orange? That's gotta be the minority of colors. Only a freaktard would have orange as their favorite color, right ladies? Maybe as their favorite fruit. Nobody ever asks about your favorite fruit anymore. What is up with that?
(Spex, an emcee, enters.)
Spex: All right, let's give it up for The Thinker.
2 Tons: Thank you, I've really made you think by making me think. Pay it forward, all y'all!
(They retreat to the corner.)
Spex: Thinker, you really raked in the dough tonight. Sweet Joey Christmas, you are an overnight sensation!
2 Tons: Speaking of overnight, I wonder how much money is in that jar.
Spex: Now why did overnight make you think of money and of jars?
2 Tons: Give me a penny and maybe you'll find out.
Spex: Come on, how about a freebie for a friend?
2 Tons: I don't even know you. We literally just met like two minutes ago.
Spex: Man, you changed, Thinker. It used be about the art of the thinking and the people you would think around. Now it's about the Almighty Penny.
2 Tons: Are you finished?
Spex: Yes, now what do you have to say for yourself?
2 Tons: Give me a penny first.
Spex: I knew it. You're too far gone. Good-bye, Thinker.
(Spex exits.)
2 Tons: Look at me. This morning I was so desperate to save my grandfather's Vanagon I took a job as a keyboard player in a Casio Bar. And then suddenly, I was thrust into stardom, being paid untold cents to provide my slightly skewed worldview. And what do I do with it? I alienate the only other person I've ever met. All this Thinking has gone to my head, and it's turned me into a monster who ruins lives pennies at a time. Curse you, copper coin! No wonder Abraham Lincoln was assassinated in cold blood.
(Spex reenters as the Grandfather.)
Spex: Grandson! I've been looking all over for you!
2 Tons: Grandfather! Am I too late?
Spex: First I checked the bedroom, then I checked the closet, then the garage, then the kitchen, then the attic, then the living room, then the bathroom, then the half-bathroom, then the basement. Turns out you weren't in the house!
2 Tons: I heard all about your Vanagon and ran to the nearest Temp Agency and Jellybean Tastery I could find to score some major buckage pronto and save your beloved van-wagon combo. Then I was suddenly famous and blew all my money on drugs and women and the gee-gees and top hats and one-sheets and popsicles. Will you ever forgive me?
Spex: I don't know- can I think about it?
(They both laugh a whole lot.)
2 Tons: Okay, this sketch is over.
Spex: Yeah.
No comments:
Post a Comment