[... it's a day late, because I'm lazy. :-/ ]
Sketchwar is an online weekly sketch-writing group. Every week, participants write comedy sketches about that week's topic; at the end of the week, we read each other's sketches, comment, and perhaps bicker about who wrote the best sketch that week. If you're interested in participating, this page has information about how to throw a sketch into the ring, as well as the schedule of upcoming topics (next week's topic is "Birthdays").
This week's Sketch War topic was "Kung Fu".
Sketchwar Kung Fu Edition "Reasonable Curiosity" FADE IN: INT. OFFICE - DAY MR. TURPLEE (middle-aged, office casual) sits at a desk across from JOHN (20s, cheap business suit). Mr. Turplee reads over a résumé. John waits. MR. TURPLEE Your 3.8 GPA was across the board? JOHN Just in my major. Mr. Turplee yawns, pulls another printout off the desk. MR. TURPLEE Adams Mutual was mostly turnkey systems? JOHN Legacy databases. I did contract maintenance work. More reading. MR. TURPLEE Huh. "Hobbies include martial arts." JOHN Yes. MR. TURPLEE So, you can, like, kick through a window? JOHN Something like that. More reading. MR. TURPLEE Ever killed a man? John laughs. Mr. Turplee doesn't. JOHN No. MR. TURPLEE Mmm. More reading. JOHN Uh, the, legacy systems at Adams had the same basic database structure as -- MR. TURPLEE Okay. What about when you're in mid-jump, and time seems to slow down, and -- JOHN I'm pretty sure that's done with wires. MR. TURPLEE Oh. Reading. MR. TURPLEE What about, there's always some old man who sits off to the side and just watches the big fight. What's *with* him? JOHN It's a film convention. Reading. JOHN Does the job actually *involve* combat, or...? Mr. Turplee just stares at him. John forces a nervous chuckle. Mr. Turplee continues staring at him. JOHN Sorry. MR. TURPLEE What if you had to fight, say, two guys. JOHN I don't know. MR. TURPLEE Say each one had a poison-tipped jackknife in each hand. JOHN I don't know. MR. TURPLEE And they're both... part tiger. JOHN I don't know. MR. TURPLEE Could you break this desk? JOHN What? MR. TURPLEE Just slam your fist down and -- HYAAH! BOOM! JOHN No, I -- MR. TURPLEE C'mon, break the desk! JOHN Break it? MR. TURPLEE Do it! JOHN I'm here for a database job, I -- Mr. Turplee slaps John lightly across the face. John is stunned. Mr. Turplee does it again, and continues doing it. MR. TURPLEE Not man enough to break the desk, huh mister martial-arts guy? Huh? John backs out of range. JOHN That's it! Look, I don't know what is with you, or what your obsession with martial arts is, or... what, exactly, but this is so clearly unprofessional that I definitely don't even want to work here. Good bye. He leaves, slamming the door behind him. Mr. Turplee sighs. CLOSE ON Mr. Turplee as he neatens some of the papers on his desk. Then PAN to reveal that THREE NINJAS have appeared behind Mr. Turplee. (Clearly, none of them are John.) Mr. Turplee freezes. He doesn't see the ninjas, but he's aware that something's up. Just as he starts to turn around -- BLACKOUT.
Mood: okay · Music: none