The Negative Piano

(2 people, A and B, each carrying some kind of equipment as if for doing some job. Maybe one has 2 briefcases, and the other has a huge tool belt, with odd tools, and is carrying an object whose purpose is not immediately clear-- maybe a small lamp... They're both walking purposefully, side by side, as though on their way to do some important task.)

A(on phone): ...and one grand piano. (Pause) No, not an upright. Absolutely no uprights. (Pause) That's right. (Pause) Why, thank you! How nice of you to say that! You, too. (Pause) OK. Thank you. Bye.
(Hangs up, then abruptly stops walking)
Oh, I forgot! He doesn't need a grand piano to shave!

B: So that means the upright's fine. Call her back! Do it right away! Wait-- what kind of a piano does he need?

A: You know what? He might not need a piano... at all. But I think I might know what he does need.

B: Oh... Yeah. I think I know... exactly what you mean.

A: Oh, yes...

B: We'll make a universe and put all kinds of stuff in it, maybe a big ball in the middle--

A: Yeah! And have little stuff running around on it! Like little characters!

B: Yeah, and they keep hitting each other!

A: Hells, yeah! And we can call the little ball--

(B burps.)

A: --"Earth?"

B: Sure, whatevs.

A: I don't get it. But let's do it anyway.

(They walk off together.)

Birthday Party, or "The Crapogram"

When I started writing this scene, I didn't know where it was going to go, and neither did I.
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 Birthday Party, or "The Crapogram"

(At a smallish birthday party (less than 20 people), probably in someone's living room. People stand and/or sit around, eat snacks, drink drinks, chat; things are casual so far. Then the door opens and A enters.)

A: Surprise!
(The other people are surprised.)
Whose birthday is it?
(Person B looks like s/he's about to answer this silly question, when A interrupts:)
It's MINE! MY birthday! We're here to celebrate ME!

(The others all look a little MORE surprised than before, and some murmur or giggle uncomfortably.)

B: I didn't know it was your birthday, too! Happy birthday.

A: So! What did everybody get me?

B: Well, if I'd known, we could have made this a combined birthday party from the start. Why didn't you tell me before?

A: You mean-- you didn't KNOW?

(The others look at each other, confused.)

B: I don't remember seeing anything about it on KneeBook.

A: You guys still look at KneeBook? That is so, like, 2014. Crapogram is the new way!

B: But... gosh, I've never even heard about-- Is it... 'Crapogram?'

(The others still look confused, indicating they don't recognize it, either.)

A: But... we're friends on Crapogram. I invited you and you joined. It was, like, a WHILE ago. But not THAT long ago. But we've been friends on there for a long time! I mean, at least a week!

B: I have no idea what you're talking about. I think I'd know if I'd joined something.

A: Dude! You're, like, totally on there, you totally post stuff, like, ALL the time, and we're totally friends.

B: I post stuff? What did I post?

A: Well, like just the other day you posted those awesome recipes for enriched uranium! And that picture of you with the 5-headed lobster-- that was SO cute!
(A gets out phone and shows something on the screen to B.)

B: Awww. Look, you guys!
(B hands the phone over to some other guests, who look at it and emit sounds of appreciating a great cuteness.)

A (now sensitive, putting an arm around B): Dude. That's YOUR lobster.

(B looks dumbstruck, shakes head slowly.)

B: I didn't know.

A (still in sensitive tones): Dude.
[Pause.]
You've got to get your ass on Crapogram.

B (thoughtful, dignified): We should ALL be on Crapogram.

(Everyone nods. Some put arms around each other, suddenly feeling the warmth.)

A: Yeah. I mean, you're missing your whole other life. Who knows what your other self has been up to?

Another Guest: Let's all join Crapogram right now!

Yet Another Guest (looking at his or her own phone, then looking around at the others): We all are on there already!

(A general stupid cheer goes up, like in an ad for a party game. Da End.)

Ignorin'

A: Maybe if I just ignore it for a while, it'll do what I want.
B: Yeah. Let's just ignore it for a while.
A: Yeah, the more ignoring, the better.
B: Let's be all, like, ignoring people and stuff.
A: Yeah.
B: I'm gonna start ignoring right now. Ready? (Pause.) Now!
A: Wait, I'm not ready! (produces some kind of strange hat or helmet and puts it on.)
OK.

Junior Sketch #4.5

A: I was not a cool person today.

B: I wasn't even a person today.

A: Well, you win.

B: Naturally, duh.

Minithing, like a sketch

A: I used to really like that.
B: I used to really like you.
A: I used to really like myself over there.
B: I used to really like me when you were I.
A: I used to like myself like THAT.
B: I really liked you who were it.
A: If I were that, I wouldn't help YOU.
B: I wouldn't help anything like you.
A: I like my helpful self.
B: Ta-da!

Interdaterview

(2 people, TOPPO and SEEKER, sit on opposite sides of a table or desk-- on a date? at a job interview? Maybe both in one? A general interview, to possibly lead to a job or further interviews/dates? Maybe both wear business suits and have papers in front of them, but both also have drinks in front of them, too. As they talk, SEEKER seems to shrink into his or her seat, the shrinkage seeming commensurate with or proportionate to TOPPO's booming interrogation.)

TOPPO (deathly serious): Do you have any subtle points?
(Pause.)
SEEKER: Yes, I must have some... somewhere (rifles through bag, papers, or briefcase)...
T: Faster!
S (quickly handing T a piece of paper): Okey dokey!
T (looking at the paper): Yeeeesss...
S: People tell me it's VERY subtle.
(T throws the paper on the floor.)
T: Indeed. So... You must have... some questions... for US.
S: Yes... Well... Do you have any kids?
T: SILENCE!
S: Sorry! I know this is only the first interdaterview, I just--
T: Person talking to me, have you ever heard the tale of the mouse and the grape?
S: I think so-- I mean, of course I have, who hasn't? That's the one where the--
T: I am talking! This story concerns a mouse who goes out into the world and meets a single grape. That grape... is all alone. Terribly... painfully... alone. Have you any idea now of what I'm driving at?
S: A grape in great pain. Grape pain.
T: Do you have any idea what it's like to be ONE grape, just ONE, without any others around it for company?! For the smell? To share that grapey SMELL?!
(S is by now very tiny in his/her seat, terrified.)
S: I'll do anything you ask.
T: YES! Yes! That is the answer I've been looking for!
(T bounds out of his/her seat and gives S a massive hug.)
You don't know how lonely I've been! How desperately lonely! I've been all ALONE! Stay with me forever! STAY with MEEEEE!
(T crumples down and hugs S's feet and ankles.)
S: Ohhh... Kay. OK. Yes.
T: Thank you, thank you...
(S turns to the audience or camera.)
S: Don't say you'd never do it.

Nice Not Knowing You

(The setting: On the street? In a public place? In a cab? Doesn't matter. B is sitting and A approaches.)

A: Hey! Don't I know you from somewhere?

B (pauses, looks around, then): I'm known for not being known.

A (freaking out, happy and excited): Oh, YEAH! You're, like, so not known!

(While B answers, A takes out cel phone and takes a pic, then forcibly sits down next to B and starts taking a selfy of the 2 of them together.)

B: Yes, I'm VERY poorly known.

A (shaking B's hand vigorously): I'm thrilled 'cause I don't know you!

B: It's nice not to know you, too.

(A (gets up and) gets ready to leave.)

A: I'm going to tell, like, NO ONE about this.

B: I'm not going to tell anyone, either.

A: And you will never see anything about this on my Twitter or IG.

B: Yes... No.

(Exit A.)

B (turns and looks straight at audience or into camera and says, very seriously): "I-G." Hmm...

Idea Logs: 3 Incomplete Skits

1. hair, bird, word
A (flipping hair with hand): I'll have a word with my bird (about (this/it/getting you in)).
B: I'll have a word with ANY bird. I'll have a word with a bird.
A: Tell someone else.
B: Tell someone else's BUTT.
[Time passes, and things may or may not happen.]
A: My word, but my bird is sore. She had some words with ME.

2. piano shave
A: Oh, I forgot, he doesn't need a grand piano to shave.
B: Me, neither. Come to think of it, does anyone?
A: Well... maybe. There are a lot of people out there.

3. smog test closed
A: Oh my god, no! I can't believe it. I always wanted to go to West Hollywood Smog Test Only and now they're closed!
B: Forever?!
A: Closed forever! We never had a chance... Oh, why didn't we go there when we still could? I'll never forgive myself!
B: Ugh! How OLD are you? That smog shop is for 2-time losers.
A: Yeah, my old creep went there. But still, I always thought he had a good time.

"Hair One", for National Sketch Writing Month

"Hair One"

[at a... diner?]

CUSTOMER (holding out finger which may have a bit of toothpaste on it): Not one minute ago, there was a hair on this piece of toothpaste. Where do you suppose that hair is now?

SERVER: Was it a beautiful hair?

C: It was...a very... thoughtful hair... But that's not the point! A minute ago there was Long hair. One long hair.

S: We had long hair in here first.

C: I'd like a hair on my place.

S: Your place?

C: Yes. My... private place.

[Pause. They just look at each other seriously.]

C: A hair on my place? Please?

S: OK. You're right. Who am I to question you? I'm sure you always know what you're doing. You're my idol.

C: Yes. I win.

S: Me, too.

[Do they kiss? Dance around like happy puppets? Both? We'll see...]

My li'l letter to the Washington Post re. "Miley Cyrus, Steubenville and teen culture run amok"

Dear Mr. Richard Cohen:

According to your article "Miley Cyrus, Steubenville and teen culture run amok," we should blame rape on Miley Cyrus and the general culture of sluttiness.

Wrong, wrong, WRONG.

Rape is caused by RAPISTS. Rape happens all over the world, even in places with no access to MTV, twerking, or miniskirts. Get a clue.

Stop blaming women and girls for rape. Rape is rape, no matter how stupid, slutty, or otherwise unsavory you find the victims.

In spreading your lame, Talibanesque views on women, you are being totally irresponsible. Shame on you, and shame on The Washington Post.

Sincerely,

Maren McConnell-Collins

Los Angeles, California


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The original article on WashingtonPost.com

Washington Post This Weekend: Teenage Girls Are Asking to Be Raped, Slate, September 3, 2013