A SHORT PLAY: "THE FRAME STORE"

INT. FRAME SHOP: AT THE COUNTER. A customer (BILL) talks on his cel phone while he waits for the proprietor. 


BILL (ON HIS CEL PHONE): "I'm in a frame store! You're not going to believe what happened! I found the perfect frame for that piece. It's green and looks like laminated cow skin. The only problem was the price: $300! That's more than I paid for the artwork! Anyway, the clerk orders it for me, and I put half the money down.


No, wait! There's more! I walk across the street and, lo and behold, I find another frame store that sells the exact same frame for half the price.  I couldn't believe it! Half the price! So I ran back here to the original store to get my money back, only it occurs to me that they might not want to give it to me, so I make up a story. Yeah, a story. You're going to die when you hear it! It's brilliant! It should be on a pedestal in the Museum of Excuses. Wait a minute....here comes the guy who runs the place. I gotta go!"


He pockets the phone. 


PROPRIETOR: "Hey! You just bought a frame. Don't tell me you want another one  already!"


BILL: "Well, not exactly. See, what happened is...I got a parking ticket while I was in here. It's expensive, so...I hate to say it...I won't be able to buy the frame I was going to buy. I just can't afford it now."


PROPRIETOR: "Geez, that's too bad! It was a nice frame."


BILL: "Yeah. It's turning out to be one of those days."


PROPRIETOR: "How much was it for?

BILL: "How much was what for?"

PROPRIETOR: "The parking ticket. How much was it for?"

BILL: "Oh yeah, the ticket...it was, um, er...three hundred dollars."

PROPRIETOR: "THREE HUNDRED DOLLARS!!!??" It's not supposed to be $300 here! This is Santa Monica. Two hundred and fifty is what you get for a ticket here!"

BILL: "Oh. Well, I could be mista..."

PROPRIETOR: "Let me ask my partner. DAVE,  COME OUT HERE FOR A MINUTE!"

DAVE comes out with a big roll of plastic in his arms. He puts it down. 

DAVE: "Bubble wrap. I'm making a place for it in the back. What can I do you for?"

PROPRIETOR: "It's not for me, it's for him. This guy just got a parking ticket for 300 bucks."

DAVE: "THREE HUNDRED BUCKS!!??? It's never three hundred in Santa Monica! It's 250! Everybody knows that! Do you know what that means?"

BILL: "Wait a minute, if you're trying to imply that I'm not telling the t..."

DAVE (TO THE PROPRIETOR): "That means fifty bucks for the cop!"

PROPRIETOR: "Yep, fifty bucks! If he does 10 of those in a day, that's $500 a day."

DAVE: "$2,500 a week!"

PROPRIETOR: (on a calculator) "That's $125,000 a year! That's a felony!"

BILL: "Well, I..."

DAVE: "Man, I hate to hear stuff like this! It really eats at me, ya know? It just tears my guts out! One dirty cop ruins it for everybody! Santa Monica's a good town, and it deserves better than this. I'm gonna take this up with the city council!"

BILL: "Well, there's no use bothering the city councilmen..."

DAVE: "Whaddaya mean? I AM A CITY COUNCILMAN! Lemme see the ticket."

BILL: "The ticket?"

DAVE, PROPRIETOR (TOGETHER): "The parking ticket!"

BILL: "Well...well...er...um, the cop took it away. I just gave him a check."

PROPRIETOR: "What!!?? A check???  He took a CHECK from you???""

DAVE: "Whoa! Hold on! He's not supposed to take a check from you. He's not supposed to handle any money at all! Geeeez! This is big! The police here get federal money. That means the F.B.I.'s gonna get involved!" 

PROPRIETOR: "Congress, maybe! People are gonna get sent up for this!"

He reaches for the phone. 

BILL: "What are you doing!?" 

PROPRIETOR: "I'm gonna call the feds."

BILL (MORTIFIED):  "No, no, wait!...put the phone down...

DAVE: "This is no time to be kind, sir! This guy's gotta go down!" 

BILL: "PLEASE!!!! Just put the phone down!"

PROPRIETOR: "Huh...?"

BILL: "I um...well, I might as well just...spit it out.  I, uh.... I found a place across the street that sells the same frame for half the price. You charge $300 and they charge 150 for the same thing. I... just...wanted...to........to.... well...get-the-money-back-so-I-could-buy-it-from-them-instead.  There, I said it."

AN AWKWARD MOMENT as all three stare at the floor in silence, then....


DAVE: "I gotta put this bubble wrap away!"

DAVE EXITS.

PROPRIETOR: "Aw, that wasn't nice."

BILL: "Look, I'm really sorry. Tell you what. I'll still take the frame from you. I gave you half before, and I'll pay you the rest now. You don't have to wait til the order comes in. It's the least I can do. "


PROPRIETOR: "Alright. I'll write up a receipt......here." 


BILL: "Wait a minute! This for $400. That's a hundred dollars extra. It says here that you're giving me gold wire and platinum nails. I didn't ask for that!"


PROPRIETOR (LOOKS BILL IN THE EYE): "Sure you did."

DAVE (AFTER A BEAT, RESIGNED): "(sigh!) Sure I did."


BILL, broken, slowly folds the receipt and puts it in his wallet. Just as he does,  a nervous woman enters.


WOMAN (TO PROPRIETOR): "Um, I was in here a little while ago and ordered a frame. I hate to ask for this, but I need my down payment back. The doctor just said that my poor mother is sick. She's...um...throwing up constantly. We'll need the money for medicine."


PROPRIETOR: "Gee, that's a shame. What kind of sickness does she have?"


WOMAN: "What kind? Er...well, um...rheumatism."


PROPRIETOR: "Rheumatism!!!?? Nobody throws up over rheumatism! Who is this doctor? Who did he tell you he was? Maybe he's a not a real doctor! Geez, I hate to see people get cheated! Let me ask my partner about this. DAVE, CAN YOU COME OUT HERE FOR A MINUTE!!???"


FADE OUT.


THE END


The play is copyright 2010 by Eddie Fitzgerald. Anyone can use it for non-commercial purposes without asking, as long as the authorship is attached.

WHAT WOMEN TALK ABOUT WHEN MEN AREN'T AROUND

Magnolia: "It's so nice here! Isn't it great to be away from men for a while?"

Mildred: "You bet! We can finally do the kinds of things WE like to do! Uh...Gladys, the ball's over here."

Petunia: "Oooo, look! A bus transfer!

Violet: "Yeah, men always want to talk about sex! Everything to them is phallic!"

Rodneyetta: "Violet, what are we going to do with you? You're so naive!"

Queen Elizabeth: "Hi girls! Do you mind if I hang out with you for a while? It's ever so stuffy in the palace!"

Magnolia: "(Gasp!) It's the Queen! And she's hanging out with us!!! Why that's...Uh, oh......Oh, dear..........Oh, no............" BRAAAAAP!!!

Mildred: "OH Jeez, Magnolia!



Gladys: "That darn Magnolia! She should do what I do. Whenever I want to do something gross like smell my armpits, I go behind a rock and do it in the shadows."


MILDRED: "We better go, girls! We have to get back to the Theory Mansion! Mike's going to be there tonight!

VIOLET: "Mike!?  You mean the world-famous cartoonist studmuffin?! I'm there!"

ANOTHER APOLOGY TO MIKE

I feel so bad! Mike is a wonderful host (I should know, I've been sponging off him for eons) and here I've gone and told the world that he's cheap and lives in a trailer park. Really, that's a terrible thing to do to a friend.

I don't have the words to express my sorrow so I thought I would read from book that puts into words some of what I feel. It's a childrens' book and the protaginist even looks like Mike. I'll just scan it in. It's named for the dog in the story: "Poohul."

Once upon a time there was a generous host named Mr. Michael. He loved to bake cakes and pies for the many guests he invited to his beautiful house.

Whatever the guests couldn't eat they took home in buldging doggie bags. "What a friend!" they all said, "Hoorah for Mr. Michael!"

What a shock then, when they discovered that a sleazey internet artist had accused Mr. Michael of being cheap! "He says Mr. Michael never has toilet paper for his guests! That's not true," said one outraged neighbor, "He almost always has toilet paper! And he's so generous with his pies! Who would print such a thing!?"

Who indeed? It was none other than "Uncle Bucktooth," a disgruntled guest who didn't like Mr. Michael's pretzels.

Now it so happened that Mr. Michael had a poodle named Poohul. Poohul was very upset by the slander his master had received. Not even a bath could calm him down.

"I'm gonna kick that guy's butt!" said Poohul.

And he did! Passers-by said it was the most gruesome beating they'd ever seen. Poohul acted rashley, they agreed, but all seemed to feel that Uncle Bucktooth had it coming.

A couple of months later when the heat had died down Poohul emerged from hiding.

The two friends were re-united and they danced and danced the whole night through. Poohul even wore womens' clothing! They were very, very happy, and lived happily...you guessed it... ever after!

The End.

APOLOGY TO MIKE

I just got a call from Mike Fontanelli who was very upset that my previous posts made me appear him appear lowbrow. Gee, I feel terrible. I certainly didn't mean to give offence. By way of making up for it I'd like to invite everyone here to a party in honor of Mike. It can be at my house or his house, whichever he prefers.

Directions to my house: park near the wall (above); don't worry about your car, the valet will take care of it.

You'll be met at the gate by my butler Bam Bam who will take you to the house on a scooter.

It's a small house. You won't have trouble finding your way around.

Here's my household staff clowning around with a neighbor. Feel free to ask for anything you want.

Why not take a dip in the pool? When you're finished you'll find helpful staffers ready to dry you off by giving you a group hug in their terry-cloth bikinis.

Maybe Mike will want to hold the party at his place! Directions: hang a right at the Bail Bond place and it's the last trailer on the left. Lock your door securely; you might want to leave a guard dog inside. Try not to step on anything rusty.

Have a seat anywhere. Mike isn't a stickler on formality.


Mike's maid will probably be there. Ask for anything you need. Mike is usually well-stocked with Pez but you might want to bring your own toilet paper.

Well, that's it! It makes me feel good inside that I can do a good deed for a friend!

WELCOME TO THE MIKE PLAYHOUSE

Tonight Theory Corner relinquishes its bandwidth to my friend Mike's TV show, also called Mike's Philoprogenetive Playhouse. Here you'll encounter the celebrity artist's fav actors, musicians and lechable women. First on the bill (above): Spike Jones with Perez Prado.

.


Mike's a big Soupy Sales fan. Here's (above) an excerpt from the famous early 60s kids'show.




Hang on because it starts to get weird here. Mike is a big Sophia Loren fan. He watches the films endlessly, waiting for the nude scenes which, in the era these films were made in, never came. I have to admit Sophia looks pretty good here.





Now things REALLY get weird! Here's Annette Funicello (above) singing "Lonely Guitar, There is No One to Love Us." Mike drools rivers over Annette and probably cries over songs like this one.




Here's another Annette film called something like "Swingin' Pajama Party." Actually Mike isn't in love with the Mouseketeer Annette but rather the older Annette shown here. I don't get it. Annette was a cute kid, no doubt about it, but she didn't age well. I can speak candidly about this because I'm safe at home at my computer. If I said this infront of Mike who knows what would happen?




Last but not least, a sample of the awesome (according to Mike) acting ability of Shirley Temple. I saw "Heidi" with Mike and had to endure endless tear-filled replays of Shirley returning grumpy old men's vitriol with sweet, little moppet charm. Now if only Shirley had sung "Lonely Guitar..."

I TAKE MY SNOOTY FRIEND TO GET SOME FAST FOOD

I don't know why so many people hate fast food restaurants. I understand why they got a bad reputation early on when they were crowded and noisy with plastic seats, but that was then and this is now. My local Carl Jr.'s is quiet and comfortable and the food isn't bad if you know what to order. Anyway, yesterday I finally convinced my food snob friend Mike to try it.

I guess I picked the wrong day because the restaurant was full of mentally challenged people with carts filled with teddy bears and "Lion King' memorabelia. There must have been a convention nearby. They were all shouting incoherently and of course they all seemed to gravitate to Mike.

I forgot that using a door is a learned skill. A man who hadn't learned it yet came to the door, saw his friends inside, but couldn't get in because a slab (the door) was in the way. After making a few tentative little pushes he opened the door about 20% of the way, then tried to squeeze in through the narrow opening. The door, which had a normal amount of spring tension, gently began to close on him, pinning him there by the shoulders. The man painstakingly turned sideways to get more room but the door closed on him in that position too, forcing him to wheedle through sideways, like a crab. I'm embarrassed to say that I was so suprised by what I was seeing that I forgot to offer to help. Besides I was distracted by a little kid who was trying to hit Mike on the head with a DVD box.

I also forgot that using a cup is a learned skill. A man settled into a booth with a cup of coffee and looked wistfully out the window. Nothing wrong with that, just a citizen enjoying a cup of coffee. "Ah!" you could almost hear him thinking, "Life is good!" He took a sip then went to take another sip and was shocked to discover that the cup was empty. He looked at the kitchen angrily then got up and filled it again. Back in the booth he took another long, relaxed sip. "Aaaaah!", you could hear him think, "That's good!" But wait a minute! When he went to take a another sip nothing was there! What kind of restaurant are they running here? Once again he angrily looked at the kitchen then went up and got more coffee. This went on and on, with him looking suprised that he had nothing in his cup then filling it with only one sip's worth of coffee. Once again I didn't offer to help because the kid was back hitting Mike with the DVD box again.

I should add that Mike was sitting close to the aisle. Every time the coffee man passed he would fart next to Mike's head. And when I say "passed," I mean passed in both directions. Mike would get a fart in his face on the guy's way up to the counter and a fart in the face on the guy's way back.


I suggested to Mike that we slide farther in on our seats so we could get away from the aisle but when we did that the woman in the booth behind us cast a murderous stare at Mike, probably thinking that he was the father who abused her and now deserved to be stabbed. Regretfully we slid back to the aisle where Mike was promptly farted on.

So that was my lunch with food snob Mike. I guess we won't be eating at Carl's again any time soon.

MIKE'S OBJECTIVE METHOD OF FILM CRITICISM

Mike is by far the most objective film critic that I know of. He has a great method and you don't have to be Mike to use it. Any reviewer using it will get the identical result regardless of educational or ethnic background, regardless of religious or ideological bias. Mike's method is scientific. Even a man from Mars would have no trouble using it. OK, here it is in the man's own words...

"First you add up all the female nude scenes (Hurray!). When you've done that you add up all the male nude scenes (Yuck!). Subtract the number of male nude scenes (Yuck!)from the number of female nude scenes (Hurray!) and voila, you have the numerical value of the fim! The higher the number the better! That's all there is to it!"

I feel so lucky to know Mike.