The TV Show Challenge
DEAD MEN DON'T EAT MOO GOO GAI PAN
Parts 1 & 2
By Sarah2
This is a take-off on the famous "Over the River and Through the Woods" episode of the old Bob Newhart Show. Please remember that I haven't seen this since my youth, so extreme liberties have been taken. And yes, I know, it's probably on Nick at Nite, but do you have any idea how many Big Gulp coffees I'd have to drink to stay up past midnight???
The Cast:
Dr. Bob Hartley, psychologist, is played by Danny Santos, soon-to-be married mob prince.
Emily Hartley, teacher and wife of Bob, is played by Michelle Bauer Santos, perpetually absent student and soon-to-be-married-to-the-mob wife.
Howard Borden, pilot and skirt-chaser, is played by Bill Lewis, Jr., computer/biology/organic chemistry major, soon-to-be-employed-by-the-mob dupe.
Jerry Robinson, orthodontist and Bob's only real friend, is played by Ray Santos, Danny's confessor and only real friend, but I don't think he counts since he's family and everyone knows they have to love you no matter how big a dufus you turn out to be.
Elliot Carlin, paranoid patient of Der Bob Hartley, is played by Benjamen Dietz, Danny's mom's driver and right hand man, because this is MY story and you didn't really think I could write one of these and NOT have Bennie in there somewhere, did you?
Carol Kester, Bob's receptionist, is played by Pee-lar Santos, mob princess and Danny's sister, who has raised cluelessness to an art heretofore unseen on the small screen. (Lookie, lookie, SJ, heretofore and cluelessness in the same sentence!)
Mr. Gianelli, obnoxious patient of Der Bob's, is played by Bill Lewis, Sr., Lewis Oil executive in charge of long pointless dates with former hookers-turned-bartenders-turned-moms.
Various other cameo appearances by the cast and crew of GL will pop up as the mood strikes. And no, the Sarah Brigade is not going to duct-tape M. Conforti to anything this time. At least, not in the first four scenes. However, if the Big C hits before I finish writing this, and it involves any inadvertent viewing of NC-17 material by harmless woodland creatures (you know who you are, I don't have to spell it out), we reserve the right to reconsider Mr. Conforti's fate, so to speak…
SCENE 1: Reception area of the Sancorp offices of Dr. Hartley. Seated behind the circular desk in the center of the room is the lovely and talented Carol, Sancorp's newest secretary/receptionist. Wearing a short white skirt and matching white sweater with the usual one working button, she is filing her nails over the keyboard of the computer on the desk, next to a telephone. The computer screen seems to be stuck on Krissy's Mannyac Board, and a post-it note is stuck to the middle of it that says:
CTRL+ALT+DEL - all you need to know!
The phone rings and she picks it up.
Carol: Hola, Sancorp Real Estate Company, Psycho-orthodontic Division. (Hey, it makes as much sense as her moving into a boarding house and working the day shift at Millennium.) No, this isn't Wanda. She doesn't work here anymore. (listens) No, my mommy fired her for me. See, there's this boy I like, Bill Lewis, and he has a job here for the summer, and…hello? Hello?
She hangs up the phone, saying:
Carol: How disrespectful! I'll have to tell mommy about him.
One of the office doors opens and Dr. Bob/Danny (henceforth to be B/D - ooh, henceforth! I'm on a roll, here!) walks out, escorting a tearful Wanda. He guides her gently toward the elevator and pushes the button.
B/D: Now, now, Wanda, Carol was only joking about having someone take you for a ride. This is a legitimate business here. Efficiency isn't an automatic death sentence anymore. You'd have to be disrespectful for that.
She cries harder.
B/D: I'm kidding! I'm kidding! (Elevator doors open and Emily - henceforth EM - is standing in the elevator. B/D simultaneously pushes the weeping Wanda in and pulls his wife out, kissing her passionately.)
EM: Bob! (they kiss)
B/D: Emily! (they kiss - passionately)
EM: Bob, we need to talk. (More passionate Manny kissing)
B/D: Let's go into my office.
They walk to office, kissing passionately.
EM: I'm so afraid you won't like what I have to tell you...(her words are interrupted by B/D's (passionate) lips)
B/D: I'm a shrink, Em, you can tell me anything…(his words are interrupted by EM's kiss as well. The music changes from the usual GL love scene stuff to the Twilight Zone kind - you know, do-do-do-do, do-do-do-do, etc…as they move into his office and close the door.)
Now, this scene right here shows you exactly what I mean by "extreme liberties". As we all know, Bob and Emily didn't have that kind of touchy-feely relationship, but, again, it's MY story.
The phone rings again, and Carol/Pee-lar picks it up, saying:
Carol: Sancorp Real Estate, we'll find your home if it kills you…
Fade to commercial.
SCENE 2 - Springfield apartment of Dr. Bob and Emily Hartley. The two lovebirds come in, arguing passionately.
B/D: But you and your brother aren't even speaking to each other! Why do you have to spend Thanksgiving with him?
EM: Abby says since he spent the summer at Dr. Bradford's camp, he's a changed man, Bob. He's stopped yelling, and almost never spits. Abby says he just drools a little bit now and then. Besides, I want to see the triplets again. You know I haven't seen them since the hospital transferred Rick to Beirut.
B/D: But, sweetheart, how are you going to get there? You've flunked Erin's "Fear of Flying Through Sexy Dialogue Without Your Mobster Husband's Leather Jacket" class three times.
EM: So, I'll take the jacket.
B/D: You can't. I loaned it to Mr. Carlin and he never gave it back.
EM: What?!?
B/D: He wanted it to impress that stripper he had all those illegitimate kids with, honey. You know I'm a sucker for true love. I hear they're going to Las Vegas tonight to make it legal.
EM: (frowning at her husband) I'm going, Bob. Deal with it.
She softens toward Bob when he looks at her with those soulful eyes of his.
EM: Honey, it won't be so bad. You can fix dinner and invite your friends over to watch Monday Night Football. It'll be fun.
B/D: (beginning to brighten) Yeah! It will be a boys night in. This could work. (notices Emily is starting to wring her hands) Baby, don't worry about the plane ride. Just think of something relaxing. Like walking on the beach. Or sitting in the front pew at church, listening to Father Ray talk about love and forgiveness or whatever the heck it is he keeps rambling on about. You'll be fine… B Scene fades to commercial, do-do-do-do, do-do-do-do.
SCENE 3, Hartley's apartment. Bob is in the kitchen putting his bird in the oven (oh, for heaven's sake, get your mind out of the gutter! There's not enough room in here for all of us anyway!!) when the doorbell rings. He crosses to answer it.
B/D: (opening door) Howard! Glad you could make it, buddy. Come on in.
Howard/Bill (henceforth HB) enters the room, scanning it quickly for the lovely Emily. Looks mildly disappointed when she is not there.
HB: Hey, pal. Great to be here. I brought you a present. (He holds up a CB radio with a timer attached to it set to 30 seconds and counting)
B/D gasps and throws down all the chairs in the dining area of the apartment, crouching behind them. HB pushes a button on the timer and a top pops open, revealing a cigar box. B/D laughs, nervously, and takes one.
HB: Gotcha, buddy. I knew all those computer classes would come in handy someday. Still haven't figured out why I needed Organic Chem to fly planes, though.
The doorbell rings again. Bob answers it, and Jerry/Ray (henceforth JR) enters the apartment.
JR: Peace be with the two of you.
B/D & HB (in unison): What???
JR: It's Spanish for Hey ya'll.
B/D & HB (in unison): Oooohhh.
JR: Hey, Bob, I brought you a present. (B/D and HB rush to crouch behind the overturned chairs.)
B/D: (from behind a chair) Does it go tic-tic-tic?
JR: Not anymore. I found it in a pawn shop down on Fifth Street. Little place called Carmen's Castaways.
They come over to him and he shows them what was once a beautiful clock, no longer working.
B/D: What are these holes?
JR: I don't know, but I was sure Howard here could fix it right up for you.
The doorbell rings again, and again Bob answers it.
It's Elliot Carlin/Bennie Dietz (from now on (gotcha, didn't I? You thought I was going to say henceforth) Mr. Sexy) standing with his back pushed up against the wall of the hall outside the apartment, gun drawn, looking back and forth nervously. He's wearing the leather jacket, btw.
B/D: Mr. Carlin! What are you doing here? I thought you were going to Las Vegas for Thanksgiving.
Mr. Sexy: Nah. I sent the girls on ahead. I heard there was a bomb on the plane, so I'm taking a later flight. You don't mind if I spend the night here with you, do you? You know the holidays are the worst time for nutsos to be on their own. It leads to repression.
B/D (sighing deeply): No, I don't mind. Why don't you come on in.
Mr. Sexy: Hey, I brought you a present. (B/D, HB and JR throw themselves behind the chairs.)
Mr. Sexy: And everyone thinks I'm crazy. It's just a bottle of tequila.
They all come out to inspect the tequila, happy that finally someone who knows what to bring to a football watching boys night in party has arrived.
Scene fades to commercial.
_______________________________________________________________________
Scene 4, Airport, Emily sits clutching a (leather) purse, overnight bag (also leather) rests between her feet.
She is heard muttering to herself:
EM: I feel the sand between my toes…I hear the choir singing…the sand between my toes…
A man sits beside her. It's Mr. Gianelli/Bill Lewis SR, henceforth MGB, one of Bob's patients.
MGB: Mrs. Dr. Hartley? Is that you? EM: Do I know you?
MGB: Well, no, not exactly, but I'd know you anywhere, little lady. You're Der Bob Hartley's wife.
EM: Der Bob?
MGB: Why, yes, he has a picture of you on his desk. And may I say, it doesn't do you justice? I'm Mr. Gianelli, a patient of the doctor's.
EM: (beginning to look frightened, wondering which group therapy Mr. G fit into) H-How n-nice to m-meet you…
MGB: I took your husbands "Fear of Dreaming About Flying Without Your Clothes" workshop last January.
EM: (looking relieved) Oh, that. That's wonderful. How did you make out?
MGB: I'm dressed, aren't I?
EM: (laughing nervously) Why, yes. Yes, you are.
MGB: Mind if I join you?
Emily moves over to make room for Mr. G. He sits and the scene fades to commercial.
Scene 5, Hartley apartment. The "boys" have finished off the tequila, a bottle of bourbon HB found in a broom closet, and two bottles of cooking wine JR discovered in the pantry.
Mr. Sexy is standing on the dining room table, using a coat rack as his microphone, singing an Elvis song, hips gyrating at precisely 45 rpm. The rest of the "boys" surround the table. They have serving spoons for their microphones, and believe you me, these guys are no Pips!
Mr. Sexy: (singing) I'll always remember that I had a swingin' time…
B/D: (also singing) I'm gonna give it ev'rything I've got…
JR: (yep, he's singing, too) Lady luck please let the dice stay hot…
HB: (sing-well, you can't exactly call this singing…more like fingernails scratching blackboards, but, hey, he's trying, anyway) Let me shout a seven with ev'ry shot!
All sing together: Viva Las Vegas!
B/D, JR, and HB collapse on the couch, while Mr. Sexy jumps down from the table, saying:
Mr. Sexy: Thank you. Thank you very much.
JR: Woo Hoo! Elvis has left the building!
Mr. Sexy joins them on the couch and they sit staring at the TV for a long moment. It is not turned on.
HB: Hey, you guys…is this a night game?
JR: Let me look. (He staggers to the window, sees the sun.) Nope.
B/D: Maybe they all got on black uniforms.
HB: With black numbers.
For some reason, this cracks everyone up. Go figure. They're guys, aren't they? Personally, I never did think testosterone and alcohol mixed very well. Seems to lead to too much macho posturing. Like wanting to put your own army at the north end of the little country you just finished blasting to smithereens, or insisting that oral sex wasn't sex at all, or, my personal favorite, thinking that pink satin sheets are the way to a woman's heart. Yeah, right.
Mr. Sexy: Hey, did'n we come here to eat? Where's the turkey?
B/D, HB, simultaneously standing say: I'll go check.
HB (sitting): You go. I's yer amartpent.
B/D (sits and pushes HB up): No, you go. Yer the gues'.
HB (sits and knocks B/D off the couch): No, you go. I insisss…
JR (standing): I'LL go. You all are making me seasick.
Mr. Sexy (standing up, pulling his gun and pointing it at the other three men): Nobody move. This is a snick up. I mean a slick up. I mean Stop Right There. I will…um…check the bird.
He backs away from the couch, stops.
Mr. Sexy: Where is it?
B/D: What?
Mr. Sexy: The turkey.
B/D: What turkey?
Mr. Sexy: We don't have turkey?
B/D: Sure we have turkey.
Mr. Sexy: Then where is it?
B/D: Where is what?
Mr. Sexy: Aww, hell. Do you have a kitchen in this place?
B/D: I don't know. Emily's place in Springfield has one. My place in Springfield doesn't have one. It has a nice dining room, though. Or so I've been told. Although no one seems to enjoy eating there much.
Mr. Sexy, HB, and JR advance on B/D with murderous intentions.
B/D: All right, all right, we'll go look for a kitchen!
They exit stage left, and scene fades to commercial.
Scene 6: Meanwhile, back at the airport, EM and MGB are getting ready to board the airplane. As Emily walks up the ramp, she clutches her purse to her chest in front of her. With each step she takes, her feet seem to get heavier and heavier. We here her voice crack as she whispers to herself:
EM: I'm not getting on an airplane. I'm going to the beach. I can feel the sand between my toes…lots and lots of sand…pink sand…Pink sand…(Her expression mirrors our own as we, too, begin to contemplate our inability to get away from this damned color.)
Behind her, MGB is beginning to sweat profusely. His legs aren't working so well either, and he starts to loosen his tie.
MGB: It's getting hot in here. Don't you think it's getting hot? I think I'll just slip my jacket off. (takes off sport coat) Then maybe I won't be so hot.
Scene fades to commercial. See ya'll? I have almost as many as GL, don't I?
Scene, the Hartley apartment. The boys (except for Der B/D) are on the couch in the living room peering at the TV. No one has yet turned it on. B/D enters (from the kitchen, presumably, holding the broiler with his bare hands. An uncooked turkey is on the tray. It is not a pretty site.
JR: No offense, Bob, but shouldn't that be brown by now?
B/D: Em said to put it in for 2 an' a ha'f hours at 3:50. Id'n it 6:20 now?
They all look at the clock.
HB/JR/Mr. Sexy: Yep.
Mr. Sexy: Maybe if you'da turned the oven on.
B/D: You think?
HB (looking at JR): Takeout?
JR: Takeout!
Mr. Sexy: As long as it's not that food from Millennium. That place gives me gas.
The doorbell rings. Mr. S moves over to it, gun drawn, and signals to B/D to open the door.
B/D: This- this is not like your fambily Mr. Carlin. I'm a psychica - I'm a psoria- I'm a shrink, not a gangster.
While doctor and patient are arguing, JR opens the door. It's a busty blonde woman and a man not much taller than she. He sneezes a lot. Mostly in the direction of her bossom.
B/D: Who's there?
JR: I think it's the Mertz's.
B/D (simultaneously with HB): Ethyl?
HB: (simultaneously with B/D): Fred?
Mr. Sexy: I never trusted those two. Anyone remember ever actually seeing their apartment?
Buzz Cooper and Selena Davis enter the apartment. Now that the boys mention it, they DO look remarkably like Desi and Lucy's neighbors, don't they?
Buzz: We heard the singing.
Selena: And Emily told us you were going to be fixing Thanksgiving dinner by yourself. So we thought (gets a look at the bird) - oh, dear. Not to be picky, Dr. Hartley, but that's a little underdone. Aren't you worried about Salmonella?
Mr. Sexy: Sal who?
B/D: We were just about to order some takeout. Would you two like to join us?
Buzz: Thanks, don't mind if we do. Just don't order from that Company place. I heard you can't even drink the water around there.
Selena (eyeing Mr. Sexy, who's eyeing her back): Helloooo, there stranger.
Mr. Sexy puffs up like HE'S the big bird around here, if you know what I mean, and saunters a little closer…
Fade to commercial.
SCENE THE NEXT, an airplane. EM and MGB are seated next to one another. As the plane takes off, EM is holding tightly - very tightly - to the arms of her seat, practicing deep breathing techniques. MGB has loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt, giving the audience (that's us) a glimpse of his tank-style undershirt. Let's see. How about a gray one???
EM is doing this:
DEEP BREATH IN………………………DEEP BREATH OUT…
While at the same time, her mind is saying:
EM (voiceover): I'm on the beach. Sand everywhere.
Deep Breath In………….Deep Breath Out…
EM: No one on the beach but me. Pink sand and me.
Deep Breath In, Deep Breath Out, Deep Breath In, Deep Breath Out
EM: No mob guys here. No big, ugly mob guys who want to kill you on the beach today. Just me and the PINK sand…
Breathe In, Out, In, Out, In, Out, Out - no In, Out
EM: Mob guy - on the beach. He's got a gun. I got a lousy rock…oh, oh, oh…
INOUTINOUTINOUTOUTOUTOUTOUTOUT
MGB (seeing EM hyperventilating, leans over to talk to her): Whoa, there, little lady. Take it easy now. Nothing is going to happen to this plane.
The plane levels off at 40,000 feet.
MGB: See? We're okay. Nothing is going to happen.
EM (laughing nervously, but her breathing is beginning to slow): Maybe I ought to try visualizing something besides the beach.
MGB: I don't think you need to worry about visualizations, Miz Hartley. We're going to be fine now.
Just then, the flight attendant moves up to their row with a tray of drink possibilities. She leans over to them and gives them a big smile. Her nametag says Reva …Lewis.
MGB (pulling off his shirt and beginning to hyperventilate himself): I'll take a double scotch.
EM: Make mine a triple.
Fade to commercial.
SCENE WHATEVER, I've lost count. Jeez, this is a long show, isn't it?
The Hartley living room. Der Bob has the phone. The group has narrowed the list of take-out places by nixing pizza (Mr. Sexy has too many enemies who own pizza places (don't ask what he did last year with Papa John's wife), anyplace owned by a Cooper or a Lewis, all SanCorp holdings and subsidiaries, and, frankly, no one can remember Millennium serving anything but tequila anyway, so they are left with….Chinese food. (Gung Ho's By the Lighthouse, specifically)
B/D: Yeah, an' we want 14 egg rolls. What? Well, make it two dozen, then. An' some more Moo Shu Pork. No? Well, then another order of Moo Goo Gai Pan. How many is that?
HB: Did you get the fried rice?
JR: And pepper steak.
B/D: Do you have any fried pepper rice? Look, jus' send over a cook. We got a kitchen here, and…hello? Hello? I think they hung up on me.
The doorbell rings. Mr. Sexy dumps Selena off his lap and moves to cover Der B/D when he opens it. It's a dark haired Spanish woman with what looks like eight jars of pickles. She's dressed in standard 50's mom garb, wearing gloves and a hat.
Carmen (hence, Big Mama): It has come to my attention you're having a party, Dr. Hartley. Why wasn't I invited?
B/D: Mom