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Peter Rogers's Blog
Artist-in-Residence at Chez Firth

Friday (5/22/09) 8:32pm - ... wherein Peter writes a sketch for Friday Sketch War.

This week's Friday Sketch War theme is "The State of Health Care."

(Eh, I don't know what to make of this one.  Ah well.)

               Sketch War
               Health Care Edition
               "Medicine of the Future"

               FADE IN:  



               INT. FUTURISTIC DOCTOR'S OFFICE - DAY

               MRS. HUMPHRIES (50s, elegant in a future-y sort of way) sits
               on a medical bed in the middle of a white, minimalist room. 
               A few blinky, LCARS-looking computer displays hang on the
               walls.  Next to one display is a trough and a button.

               A DOCTOR (40s, professional in a future-y sort of way) stands
               nearby; she takes notes on a handheld device.

                                   MRS. HUMPHRIES
                         -- and then I vomited and passed
                         out *again* right there in the
                         spaceport.

                                   DOCTOR
                         We can grow up a clone for you in
                         about a week, move your mind over
                         to that, and you should be all set.

                                   MRS. HUMPHRIES
                         Hello?  I have a dinner party to
                         attend in two days.  It's the whole
                         reason I came to Centauri.

                                   DOCTOR
                         Ah.

                                   MRS. HUMPHRIES
                         So:  fix it.

               The doctor pulls a syringe out of her pocket.

                                   DOCTOR
                         I'll draw some blood.

                                   MRS. HUMPHRIES
                         With that pointy thing?  Are you
                         kidding?!

                                   DOCTOR
                         Okay.  Computer, teleport a blood
                         sample from Mrs. Humphries into the
                         syringe.

               A whirring noise, and the syringe is full.

                                   MRS. HUMPHRIES
                         Why do you need blood?  I just want
                         to know what's wrong with me!

               The doctor puts the syringe in the trough, pushes the trough
               into the wall.

                                   DOCTOR
                         Computer, diagnose the patient from
                         the blood sample.

                                   COMPUTER (V.O.)
                         Your patient has -- brain cancer.

               Mrs. Humphries rolls her eyes and lets out an exasperated
               sigh.

                                   COMPUTER (V.O.)
                         The treatment time is three days.

                                   MRS. HUMPHRIES
                         I'm going to have cancer for *three
                         days*?

                                   DOCTOR
                         We could always put you in a loaner
                         clone, and --

                                   MRS. HUMPHRIES
                         God, no.  Some off-brand body?  The
                         last one I had, the nose didn't
                         work and the right foot kept
                         wobbling.

                                   DOCTOR
                         I'm sure it will be okay --

                                   MRS. HUMPHRIES
                         I demand to speak to your boss!

                                   DOCTOR
                         Computer, send in Dr. Almherst.

               ALMHERST (50s, handsome) enters.

                                   MRS. HUMPHRIES
                         Doctor, I --

                                   ALMHERST
                         Don't worry.  I heard everything.

               Almherst hands Mrs. Humphries a photograph.

                                   ALMHERST
                         I think we can solve your problem
                         with a sexy robot.

                                   MRS. HUMPHRIES
                             (off the photo)
                         Wow!

                                   ALMHERST
                         Take the tube to the fourth floor,
                         they'll download you to a sexy
                         robot, and you'll get your clone
                         back in a week.

                                   MRS. HUMPHRIES
                         Great!  Thanks, doctor!

               She exits.

               The doctor heaves a sigh of relief.

                                   DOCTOR
                         That went well.

                                   ALMHERST
                         I'd say so.  And hey, she didn't
                         even figure out I'm not a real
                         doctor!

                                   DOCTOR
                         Damn straight!  Thanks, sexy-robot
                         salesman!

               FREEZE-FRAME on Almherst giving a thumbs-up.

               A quick JINGLE is accompanied by an onscreen caption with the
               same text:

                                   SINGERS (O.S.)
                         Sexy-robot salesman!  He sells sexy
                         robots to you!

                                                              FADE OUT.



(I've cross-posted this to the Sketchwar site.)

Tags: , ,
Mood: [mood icon] disappointed · Music: none
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