It's The Three Stooges in Calling All Critics!
As it might be written by Aaron Sorkin, creator of The West Wing and Newsroom.
Interior: the elegant ballroom of a fine Victorian mansion. A few dozen Wall Street elites socialize over cocktails after dinner, the men in tuxes, the women in floor-length gowns.
Harrington Smedecker: It’s simply not the greatest country in the world, professor, that’s my answer.
Professor: You’re saying –
Harrington Smedecker: Yes. And it will get worse before it gets better. Now where the devil are those caterers with the desserts?
Interior: the mansion’s kitchen. Moe, Larry and Curly stand at a counter.
Moe, reading a cookbook: Listen up, porcupine. It says “Separate two eggs.”
Curly move two eggs apart from each other on the counter: Soitenly!
Moe: not like that, you hair-brain!
Moe smacks curly in the forehead. Curly falls backward onto the floor, where he shoulder spins in circles on his side.
Moe: Oh, lyin’ down on the job, eh?
Curly, getting up: Hey! You pushed me!
Larry: As if it matters how a man falls down. When the fall is all that’s left, it matters very much. It’s gravity, and it’s reality, and when old people lose their gender after 90 years and all the curves that were built into them at birth finally succumb to the relentless tug of gravity and they’re just hairless monoslopes hovering over thick black shoes, they fall down and then they DIE.
Curly: What do you want from me? Answer me. Don’t answer me. It’s entirely up to you. Not for nothing, but……
Moe: Nothing what?
Curly: Nothing Moe. I’ve got nothing Moe to say!
Moe runs a cheese grater over Curly’s hand on the counter: It seems to me that more and more we’ve come to expect less and less of each other.
Curly: Oh! Oh! Oh Moe! Oh, look!
The blades of the cheese grater are destroyed. Curly’s hand is fine.
Moe: Remind me to moider you later.
Harrington Smedecker bursts into the kitchen, angrily: Where in the world are those desserts?
Moe: Coming right up, Mr. Hensmacker!
Harrington Smedecker exits.
Interior: the ballroom.
The stooges enter carrying large trays of pies, which they place on a long side table.
Moe: The streets of Heaven are too crowded with angels.
Curly: I’m like Tippy Hedron in there.
They return to the kitchen and bring out still more pies.
Mrs. Fitzgerald McCreight: Who are those lamentable little tinpots?
Larry: Say, I resemble that remark. I’ve got a good mine to…
Moe grabs a fistful of Larry’s hair and slams his head into a pie on the table: You’ve got no mind at all!
Larry picks up a pie and prepares to throw it into Moe’s face.
Harrington Smedecker, to the Professor: Don’t be ridiculous. Everybody likes me. I’m really quite something. I’m not other people. Listen, Professor. We’re seventh in literacy, twenty-seventh in math, twenty-second in science, forty-ninth in life expectancy, 178th in infant mortality, third in median household income, number four in labor force, and number four in exports. We lead the world in only one category today…
Professor: And what, pray tell, is that?
Harrington Smedecker: lemon meringue!
Instantly, Smedecker is hit in the face with a lemon meringue pie thrown by Larry and ducked by Moe.
Harrington Smedecker wipes the meringue from his eyes: I’m going to screw him with his pants on.
Harrington Smedecker throws a pie at Larry, who ducks. The pie strikes Mrs. Fitzgerald McCreight right in the monocle.
Mrs. Fitzgerald McCreight bellows: Well I never!
Mrs. Fitzgerald McCreight throws a pie at Larry, who ducks. It hits Moe.
Pies fly everywhere.
Harrington Smedecker grabs a shotgun that hangs on the wall: I’ll get you three!
Moe, Curly and Larry dive through the picture window of the ballroom and land in a fountain outside.
Harrington Smedecker takes aim and fires.
The Three Stooges leap out of the fountain and run away across the lawn.
Larry yells: Ya-yah-yah!!
Curly yells: Woo-Woo-Woo!
As the theme music comes up, Moe yells back over his shoulder: We stood up for what was right! We fought for moral reasons, we passed and struck down laws for moral reasons. We waged wars on poverty, not poor people. We sacrificed, we cared about our neighbors, we put our money where our mouths were, and we never beat our chest. We built great big things, made ungodly technological advances, explored the universe, cured diseases, and cultivated the world’s greatest artists and the world’s greatest economy. We reached for the stars, and we acted like men. We aspired to intelligence; we didn’t belittle it; it didn’t make us feel inferior. We didn’t identify ourselves by who we voted for in the last election, and we didn’t scare so easy. And we were able to be all these things and do all these things because we were informed. By great men, men who were revered. The first step in solving any problem is recognizing there is one—America is not the greatest country in the world anymore!
by Jeff Sawyer. www.sawyerspeaks.wordpress.com