Ariana Grande pulls her plum-colored sheer sheets up to the bare freckled large mass of skin that is her thigh sexily displayed on the purple bed. Jim Carrey's eyes are wide and big and bong and come out of their sockets cartoonily but he is not on set and this is not a set. Ariana smiles and chuckles in Spanish.
Ariana: ready, big boy?
Jim wears blue paint all over his face and jumps in and hits his thigh on the pillow and starts spinning sinning so fast he opens up a rift in the already-fragile time-warp continuum. a noisy gears-shattering loud tornado-spinny Tasmanian devil vortex of dust and cloud.
Jim: that's it.
Ariana: over already? what was that? i didn't even feel it. two seconds? i thought you were my one-minute man! that is very disappointing, Jim, i thought this would go better.
Jim: gotta go fast...gotta go faster...gotta go faster faster faster faster faster faster faster faster...what? i'm Sonic. you said you couldn't do it if i'm not in character.
Ariana: speedy is needy. not cool, Jim, you have to show you care, take your time and get in there and rub. rub some misbegotten oilsands on me. rub some salt in my wounds.
Jim: what. i did the thing where i wear the wedding dress, the red lipstick, the veil and bouquet like the Tasmanian Devil did. but that wasn't enough for you cos you didn't get the reference.
SUDDENLY Cameron Platt in a Jim Belushi red-and-black COLLEGE vest storm-enters the room.
Ariana: shit! who are you!? how did you get in here in my room my sanctum!? i'm more sensitive to these things. now.
Cameron: bitch.
Ariana: what are you brandishing at me? at my face. are you another one of my #1 fans?! fan club president?
Cameron: the truth, that's what i brandish. you talk about age-gap sex being hot? bitch I DO AGE-GAP SEX, BITCH! have you said I Do yet?
Ariana: we're going through a patch.
Jim: a cabbage patch...…...*crickets stuck to her window* see?
Jo: you go, girl, do it for the girls like us! now that's a REAL man. he's been a man for a long time. my father went to Princeton to study pincers and British Literature and we never heard back from him again, he went one day to the caf to get some milk and never returned...the dorms were shit anyway but still...
college professor: i thought my situation was a bad romcom but it isn't!!! this is every college professor's dream when he first enters the field. but you never think it's actually gonna happen in real life, it's best-suited for college indie films where no one gets hurt. you put on your shoulderpads and smoking pipe everyday hoping this might be real electric attraction today when you get up on that lecture dais in front of hundreds. the Obec professors are the ones with the thousands, they hog all the overhead-projector spotlight. Cameron was my student. this is why we became professional athletes!
Dirg: oh no, groan, does this mean i have to once again reread all my dusty Faulkner again? no, i hated it the first time around, everyone telling me he is brilliant but all i confused over was Southern Gothic stream-of-consciousness gibberish. it gave me a headache in my consciousness. they should have printed his stuff with the color-coding like Barr does.
Laertus: shush you! i'm watching this for research.
as Gimelstob and his curly hair is taken up into the station with two tennis-gut strings around his wrists, walking slowly making sure his bright-white tennis shoes don't stray from that center white wide tennis-court line, he receives a heckler past the cops.
Roger Federer in all his glory clothed and alone and in scuffed white tennis shoes is there on the other side of the chain-link fence holding up a huge white sign which reads
RUSSIAN TRAITOR
right in Gimelstob's face.
Gimelstob: come on, man, i stanned for you, Roger. i thought all tennis players stick together.
Federer: red means stob. that's what you get for voting for Bump. you ain't nothing but a doorstop, pal, a kickstand. what you did, you're the Ugly american, you couldn't even be a Roddick which is pathetic. i thought i knew you, it's always the funny ones. don't be a part-time friend. you ain't tall enough to evade the law, you're not tall like Comey is tall, you can't stand. i teach Isner now. teach tech? tech teach? no, i will teach Isner how to do a Tasmanian-Devil-speed serve. you give the long line of sacred Justins through the centuries rich bloodline waiting in line a bad name: Long, Long-faced, Trudeau, Bieber, Timberlake, in that order. of knights. i am administering Justin Justice!
Gimelstob: but...this is why we became professional athletes!
President Bump: yeah.
at the Red Circle Table, Maxine Waters is sitting there quietly with her brown headband on covering her perm. Snoop Dogg joins her of course.
Maxine: so Calvin, why'd you take a liking to Martha Stewart?
Snoop: on top of everything else she has going for herself, it was the fact that she's a jailbird. she's done hard time! that is sexy as fuck! she knows the secret to prison sex! watch me tomorrow on SVU, i give my friend Ice Cube a hard time. i mean Ice T.
Maxine: is that a type of coffee-sweetener?
Snoop: so Maxine---may i call you grandmama? you look just like her. ask the teen doctor. what should they do with Barr?
Maxine: impeach that motherfucker's ass.
Snoop: and the President?
Maxine: impeach that motherfucker's ass. that's it.
Snoop: thank you. tune in next time.
at the Hearing, the folks are getting an eyeful of a dysfunctional relationship. no, not Congress and the Executive Branch. they are watching a breakup right at the soap-opera hour of 2PM.
the crowd, both in the pews and the pews on stage, collective-gasp.
Barr is crying, he is sniveling, he reaches his suited hand out to Mueller next to him by the hand-cuffed bendy mic and rubs the water from his glasses.
Barr: what is this, Bob?
Mueller: the letter, open it.
Barr: no, Bob, please. is this what i think it is? that was a private call, it was not supposed to be memorialized!
Mueller: i take notes of EVERYTHING, even my mother's lobster affairs.
Barr taciturnly lifts the note from the paper envelope. he slides it in the bright lights of television with a crunch. he uses the magnifying-glass of his peeper glasses. his head starts to spin, his glasses convulse, he is wrecking himself internally and biting his tongue, his big head shatters.
the letter reads: WE ARE NO LONGER FRIENDS. YOU ARE A MEANIE.
Barr: no. can't be, friendship crumbling. after all we've been through, a lifetime of laughs and cherry sodas and holly. sandals by the dock and Hines. both of us whistling in unison. at the ladies who walked by off the pier. i cannot accept this. so accept my resignation. okay i give. look, my letter didn't do your letter justice, get it? "justice". as in Justice Department? i am shocked SHOCKED to find shortening in this establishment! i mean we're all cops here, right? of course there's shortening in all the rooms of the department, we're all making donuts in there. come on, i wanted to be Jackie Gleason, i look like him...
Mueller: Barr, look at the purple scar on my furrowed brow. that's not a war wound from 'Nam. that's a welt. sound familiar? Weltanschauung.
Barr: heil i mean hi.
Mueller: and can you use another word? i mean at least use catty to describe me, i don't whine. my nose is clean.
Comey: you rang?
Comey runs up behind Barr and dabs his chin on the dabbed point of a fancy restaurant napkin. he cuts Barr's meat for him on the plate in front of him, making sure the yellow flames run high up to Barr's nose so he can smell the smoke as it burns the meat black.
Comey: look familiar, sir Barr?
Comey cuts the meat with a thousand knives. and feeds each morsel of meat into Barr's gob mouth one by one.
Comey: a thousand cuts. of beef. bite-sized. wouldn't want you to choke, sir, small bites.
Barr: i refuse to come in tomorrow. i have a doctor's letter...
Bump is sitting with the other important people on stage bored out of his skull. he stares at his watch.
Bump: man this sucks. you said Katie Hill would be here. we're at The Hill, right?
Pence: on top of the Hill were your exact words, sir.
Bump: and where's Tulsi? i mean on my tv, CNN NEVER COVERS HER! i don't want to be looking at Creepy Joe's butt for the next 16 months! he looks just like me! he's the Democrat Me!
Biden, flower in his plaid pocket: i'm a Herman's Hermits fan who should have entered the hermitage. i don't know if i will take it...
Barr: you know, Bob, i hate when instead of saying "I" you say "the Special Counsel". that's really shitty.
Bump: *checking the scores on his watch* at least there's still Maria...
Maria LaRosa: that Weather Channel infection with the malware virus? yeah that was me, sorry, the mountains valleys and landscape fundamentally alter and create new faultlines every time i have sex, the electric lines literally have to be redrawn, redistricted, and put up again. NOT a dig at my old job. i actually like it up in New York now, it's not TOO L.A. as all of my other bitch colleagues ran to the palm trees. i like Upper New York, it's...not like New York City at all. just like rural California. okay i give, i want to return to my old job but on one condition: and not meteorological conditions: no more with the puns. okay? no more weather puns. like instead of No Mo' Snow we HAVE to say Snow Snow Snow. instead of X-Mas we HAVE to say Wetmas. when i use the term snowjob on air people think it's dirty and i'm covering up with snow but really all i'm saying is blizzard conditions, i'm predicting snow as my job. it will never look like spring, it's always winter somewhere. and somewhere, a hurricane is forming at any given time. and there's no Mother Nature, that's not a thing, I am Mother Nature and i'm mad! i need a drink.
Gladyce: about that bacon...
Doryce: what.
Gladyce: you know bacon just isn't good for you, in any way. if you eat bacon everyday, your colon is a dead snake which will bite off your insides. bacon clogs up your arteries and clogs up your drains, you gotta get a butt plumber to come in and change your pipes from all that caked-in grease.
Doryce: i like cake. it's my birthday today...i think. but i love bacon! cos it's good. especially as a side with krinkle fries as the main course.
Gladyce: *in DJ Khaled voice* and another thing. all those potatoes, all that starch ain't too good for you either. maybe it was better when you didn't know how to cook a spud.
Doryce: where to? Are, Sweden in the Vanny Devito? Bread and Roses Strike with Guns N Roses? La Douleur Exquise so i can exchange my L.A. Gear card for shoes and prison tats? Stanislaw Cole Slaw?
Laertus: that's a hurtful nickname but you two are my favorite ladies and are so so cute.
Doryce: tricky relatives with galaxy brains? Foodi which looks like a black-coffee machine to drink? Top Noms Bistro? it's hard to find a good bistro buffet. Whitby Castle cos the Brothers---who are paragons of sound mental health---aren't getting along? Galentine's Day with concurrent notes in my one-tear diary cos bitches love pizza. Melbourne Fringe Festival, now that suits us.
Gladyce: with Melbourne?
Doryce: Grand Prospect Hall? for prospects of hunky Australian men. Temple Bar?
Gladyce: which one, the London one or the Dublin one?
Doryce: no, just the bar one.
Gladyce: oh how i love you. just remember, if you must eat meat, watch for that dried glue that appears on the corners of meat baskets, the plastic container ones you know? don't eat that glue. glue is for horses. have you been working on your spells?
at Max's boxing show, Molly Q is at the desk. they have a red round table of sorts. their guests come streaming in.
Molly: nice atmosphere, i like the New York City skyline backdrop of tall buildings in the back. this studio looks like the night scene of the Mike Tyson's Punch Out training montage scroll with the black dude on the bike and Little Mac in a pink hoodie. that reminds me of our present situation with you and my husband.
Max Kellerman: speaking of, let's welcome to my studio King Hippo and Bald Bull!
King Hippo: i could never be the real champion. cos i got a booboo bandage X on my tummy. i eat too much bacon fat, my crown is too small for my head. the doctors tried to enter my stomach here to give me that rapid intense insane weight-loss surgery in one swoop without diet and exercise, with the bands, but it didn't take. i was the first to try it in the '80s.
Dirg: you have the same bandage Deborah Norville has on her neck.
Laertus: i hate Inside Edition, celebrates the worst instincts of rural America, the so-called "real people". pure trash tabloid tv. when there's real human tragedy and suffering, the show uses that annoying radio-blooper scream sound which cheapens everything and negates the import. like what they're doing with that Disney Ted Bundy movie, the tone is all off, it's campy, it's catty, when it should be condemnable.
Bald Bull: i could never be the real champ. cos Charles Barkley stole my identity, here, check my cards. my credit cards. i had a real job, i was the undisputed champ before, held the belt on my large head for a year, till Tyson and the Nintendo bags of money came along. i coulda been a contender. and then Charles Barkley started showing up to all my mall events......it's like what he did with that other Mike, Jordan...
Dirg: what time is it? what time it is! hey, why you crying?
Eye Luggage: oh just feeling Cyndi Lauper Time After Time silver trailer-park in the naked woods with tv and blanket and train. i saw her OTC medicine ad. Lucas, let's do this.
Laertus: GREAT film. i love how they just go for it. they openly discuss suicide with very young students. and Winona Ryder is perfect in her first role, you can already tell with how she thinks suicide is beautiful and poetic that she WILL evolve into our goth queen princess of the '90s we all loved dearly with our black hearts. Lucas had some sort of developmental problem, i think, it was the '80s so it had to remain mysterious...
Dirg: code for PC and nebulous. Kerri Green! that girl had the best two back-to-back years out of every actor who ever lived. but once again WHAT HAPPENED!!? everyone lost their first sperm to her and she disappears, she coulda been Meryl! she had so much momentum, she was the dream of every awkward boy with glasses.
Laertus: nice twist with the mansion-on-green. didn't suspect he didn't live there. this gives representation for fishing boys and flyfishing boys and fly boys, boys who like to fish. speaking of fishing tackle, Charlie Sheen is a good guy in this one, the jock who protects, you don't see that often with '80s jerks. of course the whole real-life sodomy thing is problematic and illegal forever and casts a pall.
Dirg: hey, the real pain shown on One Corey's face, not acting. the confusion of adolescence. not realistic for the jock tho. i wish they had fleshed out the sidestory where Lucas helped Sheen with his homework cos he got the measles from seeing a Marvel movie in a theatre or something, that whole explanation is odd. not to mention we don't get to see Lucas's real trailer-trash dad, would have been a hoot.
Laertus: to understand Lucas's motivation more. was there abuse? white-gloved not just silver-gloved. heartbreaking, the scene when Lucas is in the hospital bed and he and the girl make a pledge never to lose touch...you always lose touch, kid, especially with your forever friends, that's the pain of life.
Dirg: the hospital bed was a standard '80s trope.
Laertus: the intro, the swelling sad music along the railroad tracks, very nostalgic and sonder and passing-by punctures to the heart, of time wasted and gone by. my only complaint is the end: why the hell would his motivation be simply to become a jock? it doesn't make sense for a bright boy like him, like being a football player was the end-all and be-all for all kids? that's his singular journey in life? to get a letterman varsity jacket? not to be a bug doctor from Brown University?
Dirg: for all '80s kids back then, it was, yo. no way a cheerleader would like classical music. unless what she really loved was the sewer smell and wanting to get with ninja turtles. it does bring up the genetic lottery theory which is very true. that scene with Kerri and Sheen in the laundry room went on WAY too long and shirtless. what school has a laundry room?
Laertus: city schools back then. it was all about the quarters---laundromats and arcades. my dad told me about the scariness of those large assembly hall assemblies where the students go wild and the teachers aren't strong enough to stop a riot. the intense bullying of a dork on public display on stage being mercilessly harassed by the steroid mob was real, and nobody stopped it or stepped in. let the poor kid get trampled by trauma. the threat of suicide was real and scary back then, and there were no guardrails from the principal or Catholic parochial schools nearby. those Encino municipal non-religious free-public-school woodchip too-free stages with the bendy loudspeakers which never worked were death traps. fleeing to Under The Bridge before Cobain.
Dirg: that B-movie insectology film they all watched was informative, about their mating habits, very interesting. gone are the days when an entire townsworth of school students ALL converge at the same film house for a Friday-night showing, what communal bliss! everyone you know from school all cramped into the same dark room, can't escape the bullies on the weekends! now that's dark. best part of the film: when the curly jewish dude races into the music marching band practice room to declare Lucas is gone and the first thing Winona concludes is that this must mean Lucas killed himself! what a riot! that would have been.
Madame Pons: *on the phone but using a séance spell* hello sis, how have you been? *muttered under her breath* i'm fine thanks for asking. where have you been?
Taki: nevermind that, where have YOU been?
Madame Pons: waging a war. on my thighs and the world. look, babe, i know you're not gonna like this, you were counting on me to pick up the deed to the Treehouse and everything but...well, movements take money...revolutions are for the rich...i'm afraid i'm gonna have to use that money to fund the campaign, no more house for me, i'm off the lease deed.
Taki: WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA?
at the Clearing:
Laertus: so we love each other, right? even though we've only known each other for a short while.
Llywarch: time...…...let's not get into that. we do love each other. you know all these years we were typing to each other and DMing each other online secretly without anyone else in our lives' circle knowing about it, everyone wondering where we were? well, THAT IS DATING in this modern age. WE WERE DATING this whole time! that wasn't just talking, that's spending time together, that is what a date between two people is now, never touching, only keystroking, two creatures enjoying an ice cream cone together in a private booth chatroom, licking just the two of them in the ether.
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