The Three Stooges of the Apocalypse
Cut to: interior. A poorly lit, dingy office with framed 8 x 10 photos of second-rate comedians, burlesque performers, and the occasional evangelist line the walls. The windows are smudged and dirty. A desk is piled high with photos, audition videos, and demo tapes. We see the soles of a pair of shoes on one corner of the desk. A plume of cigar smoke snakes its way to the stained ceiling. A man, barely visible behind a mound of paper, barks into the telephone.
Sid! It’s me. . . . Right. It’s your crazy aunt Sheila. No, you schmuck, it’s Ralphie from Bush League Talent. . . No, no you don’t owe me any money . . . Look, just shut up and listen, okay? I have a comedy act that is guaranteed to fill the seats of movie houses every night for the next four years. . . . Yes, right, until 2012. Good to see you can still do math. It’s a wonder your company’s in the toilet. Listen, it’s a trio, two guys and a gal . . . no, it’s a comedy act, no nudity . . . Yeah, well let me explain the premise, okay? There’s these three idiots — the leader, Bobby, thinks he’s smart, but he’s just got a bigger vocabulary than the other two. The real doofus is the other guy, Mikey, whose portrayal of a black guy circa 1983 is so frickin’ on the money that you find yourself wondering why you sold your "Thriller" album on eBay. And the babe, Sarah, plays the straight man, but she’s the real brains of the group. Anyway, the fate of the country rests with these three maroons, but they’re so incompetent that they’re always getting into some sort of trouble that ends up with them poking themselves in the eye and falling on banana peels. Real slapstick kind of stuff. I know that sounds like it’s been done before, but never with a babelicious woman and two brown-skinned mooks. Trust me on this, Sid. This is going to be the biggest draw out there since Katie Harris went full frontal. . . . Sid? Sid, you still there? . . . . Ah, shit.