Parker, Wayne, and Kent.
     May 24, 2010 (originally composed circa 2006)

INT. SUSHI RESTAURANT – LATE AFTERNOON

 

A small Japanese “sushi boat” where the sushi is served on different colors of fine ceramic rectangular plates riding handmade wooden miniature boats floating round and round like a Disneyland log ride.  The place is near empty; the total number of customers can be counted with two hands.

 

Three of these customers are roughly in their mid 20’s sitting side by side by side.  From left to right, we have Parker, Wayne, and Kent.  With their sushi dancing, wobbling, and falling all over their side of the table, it is evident that the three couldn’t properly use a pair of chopsticks if their lives depended on it.  Politely, they talk without their mouths full, however their etiquette starts and ends there.  We join them in the middle of their meal and banter.

 

KENT

(pointing his chopsticks at Wayne)

Fuck you and your banana rolls.

 

The two Japanese chefs roll their eyes and shake their heads at the immense amount of cursing they hear.

 

WAYNE

 (grabbing another serving of banana rolls from one of the passing sushi boats)

What do you have against my banana rolls?

 

KENT

Absolutely nothing.  It’s just I hate your luck that much that I feel your food needs cursing out, too.

 

WAYNE

How ‘bout you Parker, you against me too?

 

PARKER

You know he has a point.  I have no clue how you get all that ass you get without even getting bitch slapped once.

 

WAYNE

They’re good fucking lines you jealous bastards!

 

PARKER AND KENT

(yelling in sync and  in disgust)

No they’re not!

 

PARKER

Remember that one time in the cereal section at the groceries?

 

KENT

(after chewing and swallowing his food)

When we encountered the redhead with the long amazing legs?

 

PARKER

Yeah!

 

Parker points to Wayne with his thumb.

 

Remember what Prince Fuck Nugget here said to her?

 

WAYNE

Hey!  It’s Prince Fuck Lord to you!  Both you bitches!

 

CUT TO:

 

 

INT. GROCERY STORE – NIGHT

 

We are taken to a flashback memory where Wayne attempts to hit on the aforementioned redhead with the long amazing legs.  A pair of Froot Loops cereal boxes are tucked under Wayne’s arm.  With his free hand he combs his smooth, rock star hair with his fingers.  He then licks his thumb and index finger and rubs his eyebrows to straighten them out.  Finally, he walks up to the girl.

 

WAYNE

Hi there.

 

REDHEAD WITH THE LONG AMAZING LEGS

Hey.

 

WAYNE

What’s your name?

 

REDHEAD WITH THE LONG AMAZING LEGS

Mary Jane.

 

WAYNE

Well, Mary Jane, how about you point me to the nearest radioactive spider, I’ll have a quick bite and you and I can swing on outta here to my place for some…wall crawling sex?

 

Mary Jane hesitates to reply for a moment.

 

MARY JANE

Um.  Yeah.  All right.

 

Mary Jane licks her lips and giggles.  Wayne extends his arm to her and she willingly hooks on.  They eventually walk off the shot, leaving Parker and Kent in the background dust with nothing but the most dumfounded looks on their faces.

 

CUT TO:

 

 

INT. SUSHI RESTAURANT – AFTERNOON

 

The flashback scene ends.  We are taken back to the sushi boat where both Parker and Kent are shaking their heads in disgust and confusion while Wayne has a “nothing to it” look on his face.

 

KENT

(struggling to pick up his Tokyo Ura Maki)

Seriously, who says shit like that without getting a fist and foot whacked across their face?

 

WAYNE

What?!  Girls like my wit!

 

PARKER

No no no.  First of all, only whores accept your lines as ‘wit.’  And whores say yes to everything, which very much includes your offers for wall-crawling Spider-Man fantasy sex, you fucking Froot Loop eating –

 

WAYNE

– Hey!  Hey!  Cursing my banana rolls is one thing.  But cursing my breakfast cereal is another that I won’t tolerate at any time my friend!

 

PARKER

I didn’t curse your rolls, Kent did!

 

WAYNE

(with a mouthful of sushi)

It doesn’t matter who cursed what!  But you assholes need to stop cursing my goddamn foods!

 

KENT

All right, fine.  But seriously, you really need to lay off the One Hit Wonders.  And for fuck’s sake don’t eat with your mouth full.

 

Kent is finally able to pick up his piece of Tokyo Ura Maki, but it drops back onto his plate just before can devour it.  Angry at himself, Kent rids the chopsticks by tossing them onto Wayne’s eating space.   He then picks the sushi up with his fingers, flips it in the air and lets it fall into his mouth.

 

WAYNE

(after a short moment)

Wait, lay off the what?

 

PARKER

One Hit Wonders.

 

KENT

You’re a One Hit Wonder Fuck.

 

WAYNE

What the hell does that suppose to mean?

 

KENT

You’ve never heard of the term One Hit Wonder Fuck?

 

WAYNE

Obviously not.  Care to enlighten me?

 

PARKER

In essence, a person who prefers one night stands instead of a real intimate relationship.  You, my friend, are a One Hit Wonder Fuck.  You like songs by artists or bands that are there one day, and gone the next.  Take Mary Jane, for example.  To you, she’s like, “True” by Spandau Ballet.  Everyone knows “True” by Spandau Ballet.  Everyone knows Spandau Ballet because they sang “True.”  But no one knows anything else by Spandau Ballet.  They fucking suck.  And that’s what you look for – suck ass One Hit Wonders.  You’re not looking to sit through an entire record.  You want a ‘wham bam thank you ma’am,’ and to the trash bin they go.

 

WAYNE

            That’s not true!

 

KENT

            No no no –

 

(Kent harmonizes lyrics to Spandau Ballet’s ‘True’)

 

            I know this much is true –

 

(back to his normal voice)

 

            pun very much intended!

 

Parker and Kent give each other a high five using their eating hands, causing chopsticks and sushi to orbit carelessly about Wayne’s cheerless face.

 

PARKER AND KENT

(to Wayne)

Sorry.

 

Wayne wipes his face and shirt clean of rice and crab meat.

 

WAYNE

That’s bullshit.  I’m not entirely about One Hit Wonders.  I’ve had a real girlfriend before.  Remember Gwen?  We only last a week or so, but it was a real relationship nonetheless.

 

PARKER

No, no, no, no, no, no.  Okay.  One, that was eons ago.  Two, that was a One Hit Wonder on repeat, masquerading as a real relationship.  She was, uh, uh, um… Kent help me out.  What song is Gwen?

 

 

KENT

Afternoon Delight.  Starland Vocal Band.

 

PARKER

Afternoon Delight by the Starland fuckin’ Vocal Band!  Good call!

 

WAYNE

Why, because we only fucked in the afternoon?  What’s wrong with some delightful afternoon fucking?

 

PARKER

You’re missing the point here.  Back then, in high school, college, it was fine, it was fun, whatever.  But now, it’s kind of time to grow up, simmer down to a calm, don’t you think?  And I don’t necessarily mean by leaps and bounds either.  For one thing, don’t you fear any STD’s?  You know, Mr. Chlamydia, Mrs. Herpes, King Crabs?

 

WAYNE

(dawning on him)

I know what this is.  You’re asking me to get married, aren’t you?  So I’m supposed to follow in your footsteps now?

 

PARKER

(with a slight hint of anger)

No!  Fucking listen, man!  Just –

 

(Parker takes a quick sip of his Cola.  His anger fades away)

 

– I’m just saying, lay off the One Hit Wonders.  Just for a while.  You know, go find yourself a real girl, a real record.  Even if her music is so bad, she gives you diarrhea of biblical proportions.  You learn a lot from shitty music.  Eventually, you run into that timeless record that you can listen to over and over again and never get tired of.

 

WAYNE

Do you always have to talk to me in metaphors?

 

PARKER

(sarcastically)

Yes it helps me sleep better at night knowing that I’m wiser, smarter and more creative than you.

 

WAYNE

Okay Metaphor-Man, so you’re saying that Lois your, what, Blue, Pinkerton?

 

PARKER

(proudly)

Pinkerton.  And yes she is.

 

KENT

You know you should really reconsider changing the album you label your wife when said album has a song and lyric that says ‘goddamn you half Japanese girls’ and another song that sings ‘I’m dumb she’s a lesbian, I thought I had found the one.’

 

PARKER

I appreciate your concern, but I really think my half Japanese wife has no intentions of coming out the closet anytime soon, thank you very much.           

 

WAYNE

You know, once I had a girl go gay on me right in the middle of our fuck.           

 

Parker and Kent both drop their piece of sushi the second they hear this.

 

KENT

Why am I not surprised?

 

WAYNE

Remember Felicia?  Goddamn, she was hot, solar flare hot.  When she gave me head… you know Elton John said it best.  It felt ‘like the sun going down on me.’

 

PARKER

Nice, I might have to borrow that from you.

 

KENT

Yeah I agree that was a good one.

 

WAYNE

Thank you.  Anyway, we’re all getting it on, oohing, ahhing, sweating, moaning and shit, right.  And I’m like a good 46 thrusts away from blowing my load.  Then all of a sudden, just completely out of blue’s ass she goes from ‘Oh!’ face to ‘Oh, shit!’ face.  The next thing she’s yelling –

 

Wayne attempts to imitate a girl’s physical actions and expressions when she’s coming to a realization that she’s gay right before, well, coming.

 

– ‘Oh shit I’m gay!  Wayne!  I like girls!  Get the fuck off me!  Oh God!  Wayne, do you have a sister??’

 

Parker, Wayne, and Kent are inundated with so much hilarity they begin to cry.  The Japanese chefs even get a little kick out of it.  They all laugh a good laugh.

 

WAYNE

            (laughter has died down a bit)

Damn that was some cold shit.  I liked her, too.  But I should’ve known that it wasn’t going to work out with her before her sexual preference went 180 on me.

 

KENT

(wiping the tears of laughter off his face)

Yeah why is that?

 

WAYNE

The first time I took her to my place, she just absolutely cringed at the sight of my bats.

 

KENT

That’s too bad.

 

WAYNE

Out of all the hundred bitches I’ve been with, not one was a baseball fan.  Can you believe that?  What issues do chicks have against baseball?

 

KENT

            Don’t ask me, I don’t have the –

 

Kent suddenly feels an irritation spread like a wildfire along the surface of his face, ears, and neck.  He scratches his throat hoping it’ll relieve the itching sensation, but to no avail.  Rampant coughing then ensues.

 

            – Uh, fellas?  I think, uh, I have…I have a bit of a problem brewing –

 

Parker and Wayne take a look at Kent and react to his situation like it annoyingly happens all the time.

 

WAYNE

Goddamnit Kent!  How many times, how many times, how many times?!

 

Wayne scoops a hefty amount of leftover wasabi from his plate and scolds a seemingly dying Kent with it.

 

…Lay off the green stuff, it makes you sick!  Jesus, man!  Watching you get sick makes me sick!  Oh, this is just sick!  You’re a sick fuck, you know that?  It’s sad-bastard moments like this that make you pussy-repellent!

 

PARKER

(nonchalantly points to the Japanese waitress who is off camera)

Ahem.  Check please.

 

CUT TO:

 

 

 

CREDIT SEQUENCE

PARKER, WAYNE, AND KENT

Inappropriate Parmesan.
     January 24, 2010

A former English teacher of mine once gave out an assignment that challenged us to show “inappropriate parmesan” in one elaborate sentence.

“Show inappropriate parmesan,” I repeated to myself.  “What the fuck does that even mean?”

This was in high school, where a work of a student is, let’s face it, hindered by rules and regulations that prevent anyone to drop the word “fuck” on a piece of paper to be turned in and graded.  A kid’s got issues if he or she provides unnecessary expletives when answering high school level questions in a high school setting.  At least, that’s what prudes of the school district declare.

There was a kid in my math class once.  A whiz when it came to arithmetic, and it just so happens that he loves to swear.  He never meant to directly offend anyone.  He never called anyone a derogatory term.  He just swore a lot; he had a preference in adjectives and he let everyone know about it.  I’ll never forget it.  One lazy Wednesday the teacher required the entire class to participate in solving a mountain of a math problem.  When he realized he undoubtedly arrived at the correct answer, his body seizured into this fantastic display of square roots and double derivatives that prompted him to yell out:

“OH SH*T!  I F*CKING SOLVED THIS B*TCH *SS PROBLEM!  X EQUALS FATHERF*CKING G*DD*MN 6.4!”

You got to give it to him, though.  He came with it like an all-out defensive blitz.  Unfortunately, I haven’t seen him since.

All right fine, so when it comes to math, maybe swearing is unnecessary, but it’s tough to argue against the fact that it makes a high school class an enjoyable experience.  Like having frozen yogurt while watching lucha libre wrestling.

But (and this is a big but) it should be acceptable and welcomed with open fucking arms in writing.  In spite of everything, they are words.

I once wrote in a U.S. History paper that Teddy Rosevelt’s arguably most famous quote, “Speak softly and carry a big stick,” was his public-friendly way of saying “don’t fucking brag to everyone about packing a big cock.”

I received a warning for this.  Ridiculous, I know!  Anything that I attempt to write that is in any way similar, would send an “inappropriate behavior” letter to my parents.

But why?  Why is it inappropriate behavior to express this opinion?  Does it not make sense?  After all, the origin of the quote, “Speak softly and carry a big stick,” comes from a West African proverb.  And we all know what Africans pack in their pants.

To save face, however, I ceased further use of f-bombs and b-missiles and all the other fun pieces of literary artillery since receiving this warning.  Contrary to popular belief, I am not a troublemaker, and if I need to play by the rules to make nice, I will do so.  This truce of sorts did require a sacrifice; my papers fell, at least from my read, short of a joyful experience due to the lack of any personality.  Such can be life.

Oh right.  “Inappropriate parmesan.”  While playing by the rules, this is was what I came up with:

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“Removed of all clothing but my left red cashmere sock hanging from my two big toes, I continued my lasting thrusts as the secretary felt my powerful throb along her lips, and as I pulled out of her mouth just before I became lost in a state of euphoria, I uncontrollably spurted the contents of my white and hot finale onto my nearby plated lunch – a magnificent spaghetti and meatballs – now decorated with a little extra on the top.”

If you can kindly double this assignment for extra credit for showing both “inappropriate parmesan” and “mouth sex,” I’d appreciate it wholeheartedly.  Thanks, Mr. North.

     Sincerely,
          Your Favorite

P.S.  “Change, even chaos, is a life-creating force.  Sameness and constancy lead to atrophy.” - Philip Mills

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This is called character, in over 140 words and more.