Part 1: Little Joe
“Squeak.”
Part 2: Little Joe and Jo
“Squeak, squeak.”
Part 3: Just Jo (and multiple squeaks)
“Wah.”
sketch
Loose Screw
Image: Pixabay
They are so miserly, they usually breakfast on moldy bread topped with moldy cheese. Expiration dates on products mean nothing to them. Comfortable with their pace of consumption, they want for nothing. Their brood follows the same values, as they continue to proliferate. They come from a long line of hardy stock. Next time you run into one of them, you might either scream or stomp on their hard shells. Cockroaches are fast though, so be prepared to chase them for months until they leave you unscrewed.
Oops Brief: The Chicken Takes Wing
Image: Pixabay
Kelly and her co-workers take their boss out to lunch to celebrate National Boss Lunch Day. They all like their boss, who is a generous and fair man. Each of them goes around the table to say a little something about their boss and toast him. Kelly happens to sit next to the man, so she turns toward him when her turn comes around.
Enthusiastic and nervous, she barely swallows the chunk of chicken she’s been chewing. As she simultaneously chortles, raises her glass, and says, “To the best boss ever,” tiny bits of meat fly out of her mouth and land on her boss’s glasses for all to see. To make light of the situation, he says, “Thanks, Kelly. Your delivery is spot on.”
The Accident
Image: Pixabay
Vera loves wearing sandals, enjoying the variety of style from simple flip-flops to high-heeled, open-toe gladiators. One day, as she walks through a spring art exhibit, a big elephant statue fell from its perch onto her big toe. The surprise, the pain, the astonishment. Since then, she’s never been the same.
Every day, she seems to slump more, as if shrinking in stature, until one morning, she barely makes it out of bed. Her whole body is dragging on the floor. Then, out of nowhere a little creature crawls out of her big toe and collapses. Known to its family as Tetra 12, the ant-sized being is ancient and, sadly, its existence is soon ending.
Stay Attuned by Voyancé
Image: Pixabay
The infamous Claire Vo Yancy aka Voyancé, Fate’s daughter, stopped by to give us a glimpse of the future. She’s mostly attuned to entertainment and technology. Let’s see what’s in store for us . . .
Voyancé: With reality shows being such a big part of entertainment, we will see more such shows targeting ever more specific audiences. Right now we have reality shows geared to dating and finding that right person, such as Are You the One?, The Bachelor, The Bachelorette. One of the shows I see on the horizon is called Are You the Last One? This program is geared for those over 80 years old. Six elderly couples will try to figure out their final match.
Another one is a game called It Said, They Said, where half of the contestants are channeling an inanimate object. For example, one of them would try to express what a chair might say if given the chance. It’s going to be an exciting breakthrough for those who have always felt they were born to be a tchotchke. What I don’t know is whether the Supreme Court will sanction special restrooms built for them.
Meanwhile, we’re going to find greater transparency in a new reality show called The Capital Grill, which is a day in the life of our President. We will get to vote on who sits on the hot seat alongside the President toward the end of the show. It promises to be as big as The Voice.
As for technology, I see a new product coming called iAm, which is a robotic clone of the owner. It’s a stand-in for when you cannot or don’t want to attend a function, like a certain holiday party, but your presence is considered important. An iAm would allow you to be represented by a reasonable facsimile. It’s like astral traveling except people can see you.
Interviewer: Thank you for sharing with us what we can expect. Do you have any last words?
Voyancé: One more show I almost forgot. It happens to be my favorite one. I can hardly wait for this. It’s called The Biggest Whiner. And it’s going to be great, big time. I’ll let you figure out what that could be about. Thanks for having me.
The Custodian
Image: Pixabay
The clock strikes five. All the worker bees in Suite 320 suddenly come to life, shutting down their computers, tossing their empty coffee cups. Others lock up their drawers as if afraid somebody might steal their company-issued office supplies.
“Bye, Henry.”
“Have a nice weekend, Linda.”
“TGIF!”
Farewells among colleagues are exchanged; they give and accept their goodbyes like eager squirrels storing away their nuts for winter.
Less than five minutes later, the whole office is cleared. Sounds of rolling wheels break the silence as the little man behind a gray trash barrel comes in. As Head Custodian, he rips up all the computers, along with the desks and pitches them into the bottomless barrel. He has determined this last batch of worker bees does not work hard enough. They will not have a place to work when they return on Monday morning. He wheels away to the next floor to decide on the fate of the group in Suite 420.
Nutso
Image: Pixabay
He: “I’m nuts about you.”
She: “You’re too nutty for me.”
He: “I got you nut ‘n honey cookies.”
She: “I got you nuttin’.”
He: “Want to watch The Nutcracker with me?”
She: “No, I’d like to crack your nuts.”
He: “You’re not so nice.”
She: “You’re nutso. Untie me!”
Half Breed
Image: Wikipedia
While eating a banana pizza, Roscoe watches the foibles of his favorite character in a sit-com. He licks his hairy fingers clean after eating and gets up to relieve himself in the corner of his room. As he finishes, he hears the familiar turn of the key on the steel door of his Plexiglass room. Time for another exam, he thinks.
“Hey, Roscoe, ready for your check-up,” the broad-shouldered man says as he corrals Roscoe out of the room.
They walk down a short corridor and go inside Dr. Shroeder’s “Fun Room,” as Roscoe has been told to refer to it.
“Nice to see you looking bright and relaxed this time, Roscoe.” A tall, slender woman, Dr. Schroeder smiles as she takes Roscoe by the hand and leads him to an unusually long indoor playground monkey bar. “Let’s see you swing across the length of the bar twice.”
Roscoe is excited to impress Dr. Schroeder of his athletic prowess, as he starts to show off.
Dr. Schroeder is joined by her associate, who asks, “How is our monkey boy doing?”
“Please don’t refer to Roscoe that way,” says Dr. Schroeder, somewhat taken aback. “I consider him as a human boy.”
“Just make sure you give him a full body shave whenever you decide to go public with your experiment,” replies the associate.
Afterwards, the associate leaves Dr. Schroeder, who is left thinking not for the first time if she would ever reveal Roscoe is her son.
Ballsy
Image: Pixabay
“I’m not here to bust your balls. I’m here so we don’t get our balls busted,” the new CEO assured his employees.
Six months later, he saved the shareholders $6 million by letting go 3,000 workers.
Outside the building, sitting on a park bench were two former employees, Sam and Hank. Sam snorted, “Our CEO sure had us by the balls.”
Hank responded, “Yep, he had the balls to make us believe that if we juggled our schedule to fit his deadlines, we’d be having a ball in no time.”
“Turns out he thinks we dropped the ball.” Sam rubbed his eyes so his friend wouldn’t see them misting.
“Got that right. It’s one new ball game these days.”
Sighing, they both stood up and left, scratching their balls.
The Ugly Sweater Chronicles: Unraveled
[A trilogy of “seamy” stories about the lure of ugly sweaters. 3 of 3; see 2]
Image: Pixabay
Detective David LaFoote, along with his new junior partner, Detective Tobias LaFitte, shoulder their way in through the door. They look around the studio apartment, struck by the multitude of paper types pinned to a big bulletin board on the wall. Beneath all the newspaper clippings, invitation cards, and business letterhead is a large map of the metropolis. Different strands of colored yarn, connected by pins, point to specific locations on the map. Suddenly they hear a gasp and see a man cowering in the corner.
“I didn’t do anything wrong,” the man whines. He is wearing a green sweater with a big snowman on the front, grinning back at them. “I’m taking what’s been due me for years . . .” He rubs his nose, as he asserts himself.
“Save your breath, buster. When I was growing up I was told to crochet my own sweater. I got a ball of yarn, while my classmates had their ugly sweaters already made.” LaFoote shakes his head, marveling at how his deeply buried memories so readily surface.
“I’m really sorry to hear what happened to you, but at least you were given some colorful material to knit something new. All I ever received when I was growing up was a picture of an ugly sweater from a mail-order catalog.” The man is now raving on and on.
“Spare me any more sob stories. You’re going down.” Detective LaFoote motions to his partner and speaks with authority. “Book him, Danno–for burglary and grand larceny!”
“Um, David. The name’s LaFitte.”
“Can’t you just be Danno for today? I’m really feeling like the 5-0 right now,” says LaFoote, harkening back to his grade school years of adoring the original “Hawaii Five-0” series on Friday nights. LaFoote strides away, glad but weary from the long hours of finally cracking open the Ugly Sweater Serial Stealer case.
[To see the first story, see 1.]
Karina Pinella 
You must be logged in to post a comment.