Screw You!

Porter: Welcome to Screw You!, where retribution is final. I'm Paul Porter. Amy Winslow found out what happens to people who report false emergencies when her home caught on fire and she dialed 911 for help. The drama of her ordeal was caught on this recording: Voice of Winslow: FIRE! Voice of Dispatcher: Oh yeah? Screw you! (Applause.) Porter: Everyone knew Eddy Parker was an insurance cheat. People were finding it impossible to tolerate his fake limp until a thoughtful hit-and-run driver finally took justice into his own hands. We were on the scene stalking him at the time to bring you this priceless footage. (Cut to video clip. An intersection. A man with an exaggerated hobble crosses slowly on a green light and is struck by a speeding unmarked car. He is tossed high in the air and crashes on his back on the sidewalk. As he rolls over in pain, pedestrians walk by him saying, 'Screw you!'. Applause.) Porter: When Major General Alexander West was told to evacuate his base on the island republic of Banana Grove after a military coup, he answered the new regime with the words 'screw you'. (Cheers.) Here he is by satellite and general, now that the enemy has you surrounded and has pledged to wipe you from the face of the Earth, do you regret your stand? West: (Bombs and shells landing in the background) I think it's an exaggeration to say that they will wipe us from the face of the Earth. It's more likely that they will push us into the sea. Porter: And what strategy will you use to face this threat? West: There's no question. We must conduct a full-scale evacuation. Porter: That's a great idea, general, but you said you didn't want to leave and now it's too late. West: Too late? What do you mean? Porter: Our ships can't reach you in time. Have you any last words to share before your inevitable collapse? West: Screw you! (Cheers.) Porter: Well said, general! We'll see that they include it in your epitaph. That's all the time we have today. To you at home, good night and may you all screw them before they screw you.
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Mammals Like Us

It's time for another outdoor adventure on Mammals Like Us. Rusty Mongoose didn't look anything like his parents, but that could have come from them drinking the ground water when it was poisoned by the nuclear power plant. He was almost nine months old and still hadn't caught a snake. Instead he went after slower moving creatures like turtles and baby sloths. Rusty's father didn't love him. His mother was indifferent to him but wanted him to have a good education. She decided she would have to teach him how to hunt. Here they come out of their home made of old tires, heading directly for the swamp. Rusty's the clumsy little one in the back. And what's this? It looks like Cousin Wally Weasel wants to join them. And he brought a stick in his mouth. Sorry, Wally, this is a private expedition. It took them all morning to get down into snake country. Then Mama cleverly used Rusty as bait to draw out her sneaky prey. It didn't take long for a snake to crawl out of its hole and chase poor Rusty up a tree. But the snake wouldn't have time to gloat before Mama Mongoose was upon it. She seized it by the throat and bashed its head against a stone. Then she took its tail and fed it into its mouth until the reptile had consumed itself. The other snakes heard the cry for help and came slithering towards Rusty's mother from all sides. From his cowardly perch, Rusty could see that she was in trouble. Operating on instinct, he sprang down and took the snakes by surprise. With natural ferocity he bit off the head off their leader and mounted it on a stick. When he lowered it down to the field of vision of the attackers, they fled from the ghastly sight. So Rusty stopped chasing turtles and became a mongoose.
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The Masked Coward

Voice: No one can face the tough customers like someone who hides behind a mask. (A children's birthday party. A smoker lights up in front of the children, causing the birthday boy to choke when he inhales to blow out his candles. The Masked Coward tiptoes up, hands the delinquent a note, and runs away. The piece of paper is unfolded and read.) Smoker: I read the note and I'm really sorry for chain smoking in front of the children. I won't do it again. Here, let me make up for it. (He picks up a spray can and saturates the air with artificial scent, sending everyone into a coughing fit.) Voice: He's the only one who dared to take on the ogler. (A schoolyard. At practice the cheerleaders go down on their fours to form a human pyramid. Behind them in the trees, peering greedily through binoculars lurks the ogler. An armored car pulls up on the chalk marked perimeter, releases a pack of aggressive hounds, and drives away. The dogs apprehend and subdue the ogler.) Voice: And someone has to stand up to those bullies. (A crowded train. A bully finishes terrorizing helpless victims and gets out at his stop. Just before the doors close and lock behind him, a passenger shouts 'Meanie!'. Trapped outside, the bully's outrage is confined to muffled shouts and hard kicks against the door and window as the train grinds forward to its next stop. One of the seated passengers slowly lowers a newspaper, exposing his mask.) Voice: His name is as mysterious as his face. We know him only as The Masked Coward.
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Closeup with Vivian Day

Day: It's time for Closeup, the news show that stands up for outcasts and weirdos. I'm Vivian Day. We're at the home of Cassandra Haunt to show that she is normal and that the accusations of her being a witch are pure nonsense. Cassandra, I see that you are fond of animals. Haunt: (Stroking a cat on her lap) Yes, I've set up a sanctuary here for lost pets. Day: How thoughtful of you to sacrifice your home. Haunt: My pets get much more attention here than they would in a crowded shelter. (The cat jumps down and its missing tail is noticed.) Day: Your cat has no tail. Haunt: I know. Aren't some people monstrous? (Day gets up to inspect a row of small cages.) Day: Looks like a lot of your pets have suffered amputations. That poor rabbit might be better off dead. And your newt appears to be lost. And what is that? Some kind of mouse? Haunt: (From her seat) It's a bat. Day: Dear God. What's this? A closet? (She slides open the door and screams at the sight of a steaming cauldron with the head of a small girl sticking out of it. The head screams back, bringing Haunt to the scene.) Girl: Auntie! The lady scared me! Haunt: Don't be frightened, sweetie. It's just Vivian Day from the TV. Now be careful not to burn yourself when you get out of the tub. (She slides the door shut.) I forgot my niece was here. She's very quiet. Day: I'm sorry for screaming. I feel so foolish. Haunt: There's no need for that. I can see how she startled you. I have to go to the shed for pet food. I'll be right back. (Exit Haunt. A visitor knocks on the door. Day answers and signs for a package. Once alone she eagerly opens it and shrieks when she finds a skull inside. Enter Haunt.) Haunt: Oh good, it finally came. I need that for my dentistry exam. Day: (Sheepishly) The box broke open. Haunt: (Taking the skull) No harm done. You don't look well. Are you all right? Day: If I could just lie on the sofa for a bit... Haunt: Certainly. I'll see what I can find for you in the medicine cabinet. Day: That would be nice. (She flops onto the sofa and closes her eyes. Haunt departs and returns in costume: gold tiara, face paint, flowing purple gown. In her hand is a pail.) Haunt: Just relax and let me take care of you. (She dips her hand in the pail and spreads a dark paste on Day's forehead.) Day: (Eyes closed) Mmm. That feels nice. Haunt: Doesn't it just make the skin come alive? Day: (Eyes closed) It sure does. What is it? Haunt: Baby's blood.
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The Rise and Fall of the Regal Empire

In ancient times, the greatest disputes of the well armed Regal Empire were internal. By spreading out across the known world they were able to crush their neighbors in their civil war. The most famous was fought between the forces of Julius Circus and Pompus Ludicrus in Ephesia to the south, Thessalonica to the east-north-east, and north in the snowy Cardassian mountains, clearing all three regions for Regalian occupation. Chased off the continent, Ludicrus tried to escape with remnants of his legions to the Island of Crete, but Circus pursued him in ships full of soldiers and sailors who couldn't wait to get at each others throats. Once on land they easily overpowered the defenders and Ludicrus fled to Africa with his bodyguard. Circus chased him down the length of the Nile, through the thick jungle and the harsh desert, across Gibraltar and into Spain. Then Ludicrus offended his bodyguard who stabbed him and ran away. Circus returned home in triumph. His empire would last for centuries until his people would finally become extinct from self annihilation.
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My Opinion with Mia Peek Freen

Good day and welcome to another faithful broadcast of My Opinion, where I, Mia Peek Freen, force the establishment to face the issues that matter. My guest today is Alvin Milne, the leader of the Sex Party which wants to abandon free elections and establish a rockocracy. And some say that we have that form of government already. How would you answer them? We may already have enough drugs and rock to form a partial rockocracy, but we're lagging hopelessly behind the Europeans in sex. But isn't the right to be uptight protected in a free society such as ours? Yes, and that is why we need a dictatorship to enact the radical laws needed to make orgies and mandatory mating the new norm. I see. Well, you can go ahead and legislate sex but it takes people to make it free and abundant. How will you see that your laws are obeyed? We've decided to focus on the young with a program of indoctrination, using the school system. Boys should learn at an early age that women don't know what they want and need a man to show them. And promiscuity among girls, rather than being discouraged, should be praised and rewarded. Nonetheless, some of the unusual sexual practices you advocate may repulse some sections of the public. Yes, in order to maximize overall sexual pleasure, slaves will be used for the unpopular roles. Slaves? Slavery is essential to the realization of our vision. Mister Milne, it took us centuries to abolish slavery and now you want to bring it back? I'm afraid I must protest your policy. Someone like yourself, for instance, could only have her own stable of young field hands under our proposed slavery legislation. On the other hand, your uncompromising solutions have been called the wave of the future. For My Opinion I'm Mia Peek Preen. Thank you for joining us.
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Culture Watch

Welcome to Culture Watch where we examine the traditions that shape our world view. It's Springtime again which was a time of celebration for our pagan ancestors. Every May all the nubile maidens would gather outdoors and strip naked for a sprightly dance around a tall pole to symbolize nature's rebirth. Then they would get dressed and go home. The pole dance has survived right up to the present in most strip clubs, though it is now performed by individuals rather than a collective. And do you ever wish that you could pass your sins to an innocent creature so you could make yourself perfect by killing it? In ancient times when people felt guilty they gave themselves a new start by slaughtering a goat. Sometimes people would even be sacrificed if they won the lottery. Today, however, we have learned to just blame smokers for everything. They're already killing themselves with their life shortening habit. Shaking hands as a gesture of trust was originally expressed by rendering the hand incapable of holding a weapon, well, at least the hand used for the shake. The other was free to reach behind the back for a gun. The modern hand may hold invisible weapons like radioactive slivers or microscopic organisms, causing the handshake to lose more and more to the friendly wave as the greeting of choice for new acquaintances. We don't burn witches any more, thank goodness. That's one custom we can afford to leave in the past. The closest thing we have to them now is the political purge, which rounds up enemies of the government and kills them to stop them from making trouble. For instance, Julius Caesar would have survived if he would have got those assassins in the Senate before they got him. Given its usefulness in establishing peace and order, the political purge is likely to stay in practice for years to come.
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Jerk Alert

It's time for Jerk Alert, the show that lets you bring the jerks to justice. Brian Wakefield is a rooming house tenant who's having a problem with his neighbor, Martin. Martin turns his TV and radio up to full volume in a nearby room and then opens the door to better spread the noise. We paid Martin's barber to slip tiny amplifiers into his ears while the nuisance was looking at his face in the mirror. For legal reasons we couldn't catch the look on Martin's face at home the next time he cranked out his cacophony, but here is a humorous clip of him a few seconds later, running frantically down the street with his hands over his ears to stop the bleeding. Bank teller Monica Sealy thinks it's time a shameless queue jumper, Maxwell Shaft, learned some manners. We kept an eye on Shaft until we had his schedule and with a cashier's check we were able to steer a violent gangster into the bank queue in time for this priceless security tape. (The black and white tape shows Shaft entering the bank, dismissing the queue and going straight to a teller. The gangster sees him, walks up behind him and clubs him to the floor with his pistol. Flat on his back, Shaft is then kicked repeatedly in the groin with the point of a polished leather shoe.) Terri Hill likes most of the people she picks up on her bus route, but a young punk who goes by the street name 'Alec' has been blocking access to the special use seats. We sent an undercover cop with a hidden camera in her stroller to correct his attitude. (A clip shows Alec stretching out to lie down across four seats while faced by the stroller. He looks up with contempt and utters 'Take a hike, Toots!'. In response a taser dart shoots out from the stroller and he rolls out of the way in spasms of pain.)
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Gore

Voice: High Brow Oligarchy presents Gore, a substantial, fast paced docudrama on ancient Rome that captures the violent spirit of our bloody past in rich detail. (A wise governor settles a dispute between two women.) Governor: So you both claim to be the child's mother. Very well, saw the child in half and give the head, arms and torso to one and give the hips and legs to the other. Mother: No! Please don't harm him! Let her have the child! Governor: Too late! (Soldiers push the child through a pedal driven circular saw, spraying blood and flesh on the howling mother and the astonished baby snatcher.) Voice: See the games as the Romans did. (A prisoner stands helpless in the arena before the emperor.) Emperor: Speak up or I'll feed you to the lions! Prisoner: Please, I promise I'll never worship Christ again. From now on I will only worship Zeus. Emperor: Zeus! He's Greek! You have insulted his Roman imitation Jupiter! You shall pay for your insolence! Release the lions! (The prisoner runs from the large, hungry cats but they easily overtake him and tear him to shreds as the crowd wildly cheers.) Voice: It's worth the hike in your cable bill for this kind of realism. (A soldier descends from a ladder leaning on a cross of crucifixion and is humbly greeted by a servile prisoner.) Prisoner: Thank you for not crucifying me. Soldier: Crucifixion is not the penalty for your offense. Prisoner: I know, thank you. Soldier: It's being flayed alive. Seize him! Prisoner: No! (The prisoner is apprehended and bound to a tree. He screams his head off as they strip him of his clothes and his skin, making the sound of tape being peeled from a roll until his veins and muscle tissue are exposed from head to toe.) Voice: And along with gore, Rome had sex. (Cassius lies in bed with his topless lover Persephone.) Persephone: Cassius, I need to confess something. Cassius: What's that, my love? Persephone: I'm in love with Drusus. Cassius: What? You whore! (He picks up his sword.) Persephone: (Tearfully) But you snore too loud! (He grabs her by the hair and lops off her head with a swish. Blood gushes from the wide open neck. Enter Drusus.) Cassius: Drusus! (Still holding the severed head by the hair, Cassius hides it behind his back.) Drusus: (Pointing to the headless body) Who's she? Cassius: Oh, just a friend. We had an argument. Drusus: What are you hiding? Cassius: Nothing. Drusus: Let me see! (They struggle and Drusus discovers the head.) Persephone! By the gods, you'll atone for this crime. (Exit Drusus.) Cassius: (Alone) Well, that's a relief. (He is impaled through the belly by a flying spear. Enter Drusus with a spiked metal ball on a chain.) Drusus: Did you think that was all? Cassius: (Gasping in pain) Mercy... (Swinging his weapon furiously, Drusus bashes Cassius's face to unrecognizable disfigurement, spreading drops of blood and fragments of bone through the air in slow motion.) Voice: See the true face of ancient Rome in Gore, exclusively from High Brow Oligarchy.
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To Saturday Night Live

If you want to know why I hate your guts, maybe you should take a look at my script index and see how many hundreds of my scripts ended up on your fucking show over the last seven years. How many of them were playing as repeats on MuchMoreMusic while I struggled to catch up with the five hours of music someone else stole from me? And at the time I rewrote my song Size in 2010 the band who stole it wanted to play on your show. Did you know about them? My music would have complimented my comedy well. It worked for Jay Leno. Anyway, they tried to get me thrown in jail to play on your show. Did you know about that? But they couldn't throw me in jail because I'm the author. They all went to prison instead: the whole band. Did your whole cast go to prison? Why do your viewers take so long to figure out that your show stole my work and not the other way around? Did you turn them into vegetables with stories that were designed to enlighten them? Why do you stay on the air? So you can make your crooked network look innocent? Well, I don't care how much you parasites pay your studio audience to cheer, I'm not impressed by your performance. And I'm sure they'll find out who really owns whatever remaining poems, scripts, or statements you and your psychotic, coke sniffing mentor George Carlin helped yourselves to over the last seven years as you took the cleverness it lent your appearance to spin hate for their author, enjoying the trust the public first had in me right up to the present moment for some of it. Your comedy is about as funny as your justice to its victim.
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The ABC's of PBS

Moderator: Today to discuss the future of children's broadcasting, we've assembled a panel of its sponsors: the letter 'T', the letter 'V', and the letter 'E'. And proceeding in alphabetical order, we'll invite Mister E to kick off the discussion. E: Entertainment is exactly what everyone thinks we need. Teaching English, for example, is more effective when entwined with edgy fiction. T: That's not true. Tall tales are not how to talk about intelligent topics. Teaching's the most effective in a tightly controlled environment. It's a time honored tradition. Moderator: Have you anything to add, Mister V? V: Only that we value our viewers and we'll do our very best to advance children's television.
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Tyranny

Voice: What could be more wholesome than Tyranny? (A family sits at a table. Sister gets up and throws her dice.) Brother: Would you stop knocking over my camps like that? (He straightens up green markers on his territory.) Sister: Sorry. (She moves her piece.) One, two, three, four, oh, I get to take a card from the 'Force' pile. (She draws a card from the deck and reads it aloud.) Slave labor gives you an edge. Occupy one fifth of your neighbor's empire. Yay! Brother: Aw! Voice: And if you can't enjoy the taste of your fellows' blood for real, Tyranny is the next best thing. (The father takes his turn with the dice and moves his piece.) Father: ...eight, nine... (Landing on another player's occupied square, he hangs his head in defeat.) Mother: The price of rent for that square is the slaughter of all your first born. Father: But I'm out of first born. Will you accept second born? Mother: I'm afraid not. Hand me your piece. (He reluctantly complies. She puts the small plastic figure in a paper cutter and chops off its head. The surviving players cheer.) Voice: Don't let prolonged inactivity turn you into a homicidal maniac. Just play Tyranny, the traditional board game from Caesar Brothers. Plastic glue not included.
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© 2007, 2014. Scripts by David Skerkowski. All rights reserved.

The Hennessy

Voice: Dalton Hennessy was the last surviving member of his elite family after his two older siblings pushed the establishment too far. His eldest brother, Jake, had made it all the way to the Office of the President, but then he tried to make a stand on a real issue. Jake Hennessy: (Giving a public speech) If you people don't want to go to war, we don't have to go to war- (Blam! Chaos erupts with his assassination.) Voice: His other brother, Fred, hung around with hippies. Fred Hennessy: (Giving a public speech) If you don't like the system the way it is, we can change things around, man. Like instead of occupying other countries we can turn our own into an environmental paradise, with equal rights for women and minorities. And socialism would give us enough welfare to protect us from 'the man' and- (Blam! Chaos.) Voice: But the last Hennessy knew how to survive. Dalton Hennessy: (Giving a speech behind a bulletproof shield) Single mothers deserve a break! (A bullet ricochets against the glass in front of him.) And does anyone know for sure if their state is entitled to charge you tax on your income? (Two more ricochets.) Voice: Keeping radical idealism alive for the most well armed population in history, Dalton Hennessy... Dalton Hennessy: Our problem is the military/industrial complex! (A high velocity depleted uranium shell penetrates his shield and incinerates its target.) Voice: ...was the Hennessy.
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© 2014. New scripts by David Skerkowski. All rights reserved.

The Planet of the Grapes

We now return you to our feature presentation, the sci-fi classic, The Planet of the Grapes. (Three astronauts, whose space capsule has crashed in the hot desert, cross the barren plain in search for water.) #1: I wonder what planet we're on. #2: Wherever it is, at least we can breathe the air. (They come to a natural vinyard.) Captain: Look at that! Where there are grapes, there is water. Let's open up some of these cactus plants and check them. (#1 snaps off the hollow arm of a cactus and drinks from it.) #1: (Smiling broadly) Hey! (He passes it around.) Captain: Be careful, men, this fermented grape water may have intoxicating effects. (Nightfall. The men lie on their backs plastered.) #1: I wonder what planet we're on. #2: It can't be Earth. No McDonald's Captain: (Bending elbow to point up) We're lucky we didn't land on that big silver one up there. It doesn't look life supporting.
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A Message from Our President

Good evening my fellow Iniquians. Did I take you by surprise by being a network president instead of your elected representative in government? Since your political president depends on campaign support from my personal contributions and must submit to the influence of my broadcasts on the mindset of voters, that makes me your true president. It's time we all faced this reality. Now it has recently come to my attention that my Devil worship is causing some concern out there. There is no reason for this. In fact, we should all be grateful to the Dark Lord for showering his favors upon us. It has made us the richest, most powerful country on the globe. The Devil is widely misunderstood as a creature of pure malevolence, whose contracts bring short term gains that always result in death and destruction. We have found that such outcomes are merely the result of improper worship of a supernatural benefactor. The Devil has feelings, too, you know. When he's rejected or scorned, you can't blame him for lashing out with wars and plagues. Here at the Nefarious Broadcasting Corporation we make sure the Devil gets his due. We pledge our souls to his cause for all eternity on your behalf, which is why, here in Iniquia, no matter how much we already have, we may still complain about not having enough. We're not asking for gratitude, but only for recognition of our sacrifice. Good bye and may God Bless Iniquia.
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© 2007, 2014. Scripts by David Skerkowski. All rights reserved.

Nice n' Mousy

Hi there. Are you a man between the ages of thirty-five and sixty whose hair refuses to stay all one color? Gray hairs stand out and can make your scalp look decrepit. But coloring your hair with a vibrant tone looks artificial. That's why we invented Nice n' Mousy. One treatment of Nice n' Mousy is all it takes to turn your hair a nice, uniform shade of grey/brown for up to eight weeks. You can still look your age without looking like an aging slob. Stay ahead of your time with Nice n' Mousy, the miracle hair treatment for mature men.
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