Humor Script posted March 16, 2017


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Ain't no sunshine

Scenes From a Marriage: Vol. 18

by Mark Valentine

The author has placed a warning on this post for language.


SCENE: The Valentine house. Mark and Maggie are in the front room. They have ordered a pizza and are awaiting its arrival. The Blackhawks-Senators game is on the television.
 
 
MAGGIE: Did you see that Amy Krouse died?
 
MARK: Who was she?
 
MAGGIE: She was the woman who wrote that essay about finding a second wife for her husband because she was dying.
 
MARK: Oh yeah, the woman who appreciated her husband.
 
MAGGIE: It was a beautiful essay. He’d better write her a good obituary.
 
MARK: (sotto voce) Here we go.
 
MAGGIE: Have you been working on mine?
 
MARK: Are you dying?
 
MAGGIE: Maybe. The point is you can’t put these things off until the last minute. Besides, once I die, you’ll be too bereft to write anything.
 
MARK: I’m a little bereft right now. The Hawks game is on and, instead of watching it like normal people, we’re talking about a hypothetical obituary for someone that isn’t going to die for another forty years.
 
MAGGIE: You don’t know that for sure. Besides, you said yourself that good writing takes time.
 
MARK: Well, it’s not like I haven’t done anything. You’ll be happy to know that Dave and I already have about five minutes of good material for your eulogy.
 
MAGGIE: Material?
 
MARK: Yeah. A few of the jokes need some polishing, but it’s a good start.
 
MAGGIE: You’re going to be making jokes at my funeral?
 
MARK: I’ve got a reputation to uphold. There will be lots of people there expecting a good show. You don’t want us to let them down, do you?
 
MAGGIE: A good show?
 
MARK: Absolutely! Dave and I are going to put the FUN in FUN-eral. Listen to this – (using his Jerry Seinfeld voice)
 
“Hey, what is the deal with pall bearers? The stiff’s name’s not Paul, it’s Maggie – get us some Maggie bearers.”
Then Dave does a rim shot on the drums.
“What’s the difference between an Irish wake and an Irish wedding? One less drunk at the wake.”
Another rim shot. They’ll be rolling in the aisles.
 
MAGGIE: That’s it. You’re off eulogy duty.
 
MARK: Fair enough. Can we watch the game now?
 
 
(They quietly watch the game  for a couple of minutes. Finally, Maggie breaks the silence.)
 
 
MAGGIE: What about the music?
 
MARK: What music?
 
MAGGIE: The music for my funeral. You know I don’t want any bagpipes, right? And no, “When Irish Eyes are Smiling”. I will NOT be smiling.
 
MARK: (mumbling) There’s a surprise.
 
MAGGIE: What?
 
MARK: Nothing. I’m already putting together a playlist.
 
MAGGIE: No, you’re not.
 
MARK: Sure I am. Look, it’s right here on my iPhone. Wanna see?
 
MAGGIE: Give me that.
 
MARK: Scroll down – it’s between “Latin Music” and “Motown”.
 
MAGGIE: Wow, you really have a playlist called “Maggie’s Funeral”. I’m impressed.
 
MARK: I listen to it quite a bit.
 
MAGGIE: I’m not sure what to make of that.
 
MARK: It’s got all the songs you told me to play.
 
MAGGIE: Let’s see what we have. “I Am the Bread of Life” – nice. “City of God”. Very good. “Ain’t No Sunshine” by Bill Withers?
 
MARK: Yeah, I was thinking of singing that one myself. (starts singing) Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone. Only darkness every day…
 
MAGGIE: I’m vetoing that one.
 
MARK: Veto all you want, but you’ll be dead when the actual decisions get made.
 
MAGGIE: I will come back and haunt you.
 
MARK: Is haunting anything like nagging? Cuz I’ve kind of learned to cope with that.
 
MAGGIE: Haunting is much worse than nagging. You will rue the day you sang Bill Withers at my funeral.
 
MARK: It’s a fitting song. It’s not like I put “Ding Dong the Witch is Dead” on the playlist.
 
MAGGIE: YOU PUT THAT SONG ON MY FUNERAL PLAYLIST?
 
MARK: Were you not listening? I just said that I specifically DID NOT put that song on the playlist.
 
MAGGIE: But you thought about it, didn’t you?
 
Doorbell rings.
 
MARK: Saved by the bell.
 
(Mark gets up to answer the door)
 
MAGGIE: This conversation’s not over.
 
(Mark pays the delivery guy, brings in the pizza and yells to their son Dave’s room)
 
MARK: Dave, pizza’s here.
 
MAGGIE: Dave’s not home.
 
MARK: Where is he?
 
MAGGIE: He went to Josh’s house – they’re working on some project for school.
 
MARK: I’m guessing that means I have to drive to Indiana to pick him up when they’re finished.
 
MAGGIE: You guessed correctly. You can listen to your playlist to pass the time.
 
MARK: Why doesn’t Josh ever come here?
 
MAGGIE: Josh’s house is nicer. Plus the only place they could hang out is in the basement and Dave doesn’t like all the spiders.
 
MARK: There aren’t that many spiders.
 
MAGGIE: There are a lot of spiders.
 
MARK: It’s a basement – all basements have spiders.
 
MAGGIE: Where do they come from?
 
MARK: Well Maggie, when a boy spider and a girl spider love each other very much, they share a special hug…
 
MAGGIE: Funny.
 
MARK: See. If you put me back on eulogy duty, that’s the kind of comedic entertainment the audience will be getting. You think your sister will be able to get folks to laugh? Fat chance.
 
MAGGIE: People aren’t supposed to laugh. They are supposed to cry their eyes out. I will be dead. You’re gonna miss me when I’m gone.
 
MARK: Absolutely. Hey, since Dave’s not home, let’s eat in the front room so we can watch the game.
 
MAGGIE: Ok, I guess.
 
Mark pulls a couple of TV trays into the front room. Maggie sits on the couch with one, and Mark sits in his chair with the other. They begin eating the pizza as they continue to watch the game. Again, Maggie breaks the silence.
 
MAGGIE: You know there are other things we can do in the front room now that Dave’s not home.
 
MARK: I’m not following.
 
MAGGIE: We can put a fire in the fireplace...
 
MARK: OK.
 
(Mark grabs a log from the back porch and puts it in the fireplace. He then sits back down in his chair and continues to watch the game.)
 
MAGGIE: I wasn’t done.
 
MARK: Done with what?
 
MAGGIE: Done describing my idea for what we could do.
 
MARK: What else?
 
MAGGIE: Casey and Mary Meg are away at school. We have the house all to ourselves…
 
MARK: Still not getting what you’re hinting at.
 
MAGGIE: You know how there are certain things that are inappropriate to do in front of children? Well, there are no children here, if you get my drift.
 
MARK: OK – I see what you’re getting at. Pass me a couple slices of the fucking pizza will you?
 
MAGGIE: Excuse me?
 
MARK: The parmesan cheese and napkins too – just slide all that shit down this way.
 
MAGGIE: What are you doing?
 
MARK: I’m wondering what it takes for a brother to get some pizza up in this bitch.
 
MAGGIE: What’s with all the profanity? You sound like a Sox fan.
 
MARK: Hey, that’s hitting below the belt. There’s no call for that kind of talk.
 
MAGGIE: You’re right – sorry for that one. Just wondering where all this profanity is coming from.
 
MARK: It was your idea.
 
MAGGIE: How exactly was swearing my idea?
 
MARK: You know – the kids are gone so now we can curse.
 
MAGGIE: Wait, you thought THAT’S what I was referring to?
 
MARK: Yeah, what else can’t we do when the kids are around?
 
MAGGIE: You know…  When a boy spider loves a girl spider very much…
 
MARK: (looking confused) You want me to go in the basement and kill the spiders?
 
MAGGIE: (exasperated) It’s a miracle we ever had kids.
 
(On the TV, Blackhawks forward Patrick Kane scores a goal to put the Hawks up. Mark reacts.)
 
MARK: Ooh – Kane just scored!
 
MAGGIE: Which is a lot more than I can say for you.
 
(Several moments of silence ensue. Maggie shrugs her shoulders and turns her attention to the game)
 
MAGGIE: Are the Hawks still leading the conference?
 
MARK: Yeah by a point over the Wild, but the Wild have a game in hand.
 
 
(A few more moments of silence as Mark and Maggie watch the game. Suddenly a look comes over Mark’s face as if something has finally clicked in his brain)
 
 
MARK: Ooh – I get it!
 
(Mark gets up from his chair to go sit next to Maggie on the couch. He puts his arm around her)
 
MAGGIE: Finally!
 
MARK: (singing) Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone…
 
MAGGIE: No singing!
 
MARK: OK. We can leave the game on though, right?

 


Story of the Month contest entry

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The Amy Krouse essay is actually kind of touching. Here's the link: https://www.nytimes.com/2017/03/03/style/modern-love-you-may-want-to-marry-my-husband.html
Pays one point and 2 member cents.


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