The Dark Comedy
Me being the completely self-absorbed person that I am, I have decided that I am going to post all of the material that I come up with for my 'Writing Comedy' class. It is a writing intensive class where we learn all of the fundamentals to the different types of comedic writing (i.e. sketch comedy, memoirs, dark humor writing...) and then turn in our product. This assignment was to write a story or play that was a dark comedy. Here it is:
A BITCHIN’ TIME
She likes me. She has to like me. She wouldn’t agree to go on a date with me if she didn’t like me. It’s totally normal to be freaked out. It’s the first date. Totally normal.
As I walk up the staircase to her front door I can only feel my heart pounding harder and harder in my chest. It’s been so long since I’ve had a date, I don’t even know if I know how to do this anymore. Fancy restaurant, diner, movie, the “theatre.” What’s the right thing to do? I mean, I want to make an impression but I don’t want to make the wrong one. I’m a free spirited guy: I like foosball and beer. But I mean, I’m not into indie music or heroin. I’m not that free spirited.
Just stick to the plan, it’s a good one. Childish, perhaps, but fun.
It doesn’t help that she is so hot that I can barely contain myself. But… she said 'yes.' Or what is like a yes to her. Now that I think about it, she really doesn’t say much. She just loves staring into my eyes as much as I love staring into hers. I know it. This is gunna go great. Just do it.
Knock on the door you pussy. Get this party started!
I knock. And I knock.
I don’t think she’s coming.
She finally comes the door just as I am about to walk away. I turn around quickly and smile, giving her an extremely awkward wave.
"Hi!" I say, almost too fast.
She just blankly stares back at me and blinks.
This is going to be a disaster... Wait!
I reach into my back pocket and pull out a Milk-Bone. Her tail begins to wag.
Bingo!
"Here you go, darling," I say as I toss her my little treat. She devours every morsel and looks to me with those longing eyes that I remember from days past. "Ready to go, Ginger?" I ask, and by the increased velocity of her tail, I can tell she is now just as excited as I am. She runs back through her doggy door to get her things and I look down in my picnic basket to make sure I have all the necessary items.
Collar?
Check.
Leash?
Check.
Tennis ball?
Check.
…Peanut butter?
Double check. Crunchy AND smooth. Just in case.
I don’t mean to come off as if I am overly expecting something to happen. I’m not that type of guy. It’s just- it’s been so long since I’ve been with anyone that, to be honest, I kinda hope this relationship moves fast. A boy has needs, ya know? But if she wants to take it slow, I completely understand. I mean, I’m not looking for marriage right now or anything. I mean, Jesus, I’m only just out of college. I have my whole life in front of me. I’m not going to rush anything and end up like all the others, alone and bitter.
I suddenly hear the flap of the doggy door and it yanks me out of my thoughts. As she stands at the top step of her porch, I fall in love all over again. Her nose is glistening just right, and the long hairs on her little Papillion ears are blowing perfectly in the wind. She pants in excitement as I place the collar and leash around her neck. She sticks her nose in the picnic basket and sniffs.
"Not yet, sweetheart."
I think she’s going for the peanut butter!
As we walk down the sidewalk, I can’t help noticing that prize show prance she has. This girl is in such a higher class than me, I’m going to have to put on my best game all the time to get her to continue to notice me. As we walk by a dark house a bark bellows and she stops dead in her tracks and turns her head.
And my heart drops.
How am I supposed to compete with this?
It suddenly occurs to me that this language barrier may cause the end of my beloved Ginger and me.
I’m going to have to go to night classes and learn Caninese.
She lets out her little yelp of a mating call and I scoop her up before things can go any further. She looks at me and then back into the darkness that provided that God-forsaken bark. She quickly turns back to me and licks my face.
Now, I don’t know if any of the faces that dogs make can be classified as a smile or not. But I assure you, at this exact moment, Ginger was smiling at me. And everything made sense to me again. Her ultra light body being caressed by my one arm felt so right. It showed her that I had strength and power that no dog could provide. Great DANE could not provide her with the cuddle that I could. St. BERNARD could not warm her in his winter coat after a long winter walk. Could they?
Those fucks have nothing on me.
I could sense that she wanted to be let down, so I placed her beautiful paws back on the pavement. We round the corner and her ears perk up. I knew the playground was a good place to take her.
I throw her the ball in the doggy park and she fetches with such finesse that I feel like I’m watching her in slow motion in an old romance film. She runs back to me and places the tennis ball back in my hands. Even her slobber has an elegance to it that goes beyond that of a normal gal.
She is the one.
I throw the ball again, this time a little harder than before, hoping to see her running farther than before. The ball bounces by a Collie on the other side of the doggy park. Ginger slows in her tracks and walks right up to this Rover and sticks her snout in his ass.
Who the fuck is this slut? Just sniffs any ass that comes her way?
The Collie, seeing my cute date with her snout in his bum turns around and begins to sniff her crotch. I get up.
I’m gunna put this mother fucker in his place. His crotch-sniffing days are over.
I walk right up to the Collie and hostilely tap him on his back.
"Who the hell do you think you are, pal?"
The Collie stares right into my eyes.
"Ruff!" replies my arch nemesis, who ironically enough turns out to be named Archie.
"Oh, you think you’re some kind of tough guy, huh, Lassie?"
That’s right; hit him where it hurts, right in his manhood.
"Let’s settle this right now, mano-a-peto. You name the place," I command.
"Ruff!" barks Archie.
On top of a roof? This guy isn’t as much of a pussy as I thought!
"Fine," I muster, but I look down at Ginger and I can tell by the look on her face she can smell my fear.
Don’t puss out; you’ll hate yourself forever.
"How do you want to do this? Fists and paws? Riddles? Some sort of sporting activity?" I ask.
"Frigure skating!" proclaims the Collie.
What a faggot!
Enough is enough. "You know what, Ginger? If you’d rather spend your time hanging out with Lassie Carrigan, that’s just fine. Have a nice life."
As I walk away, I feel so empty that I just want to fall into a black abyss.
She was the one.
Suddenly, Ginger prances up next to me, tennis ball in mouth, tail wagging as if you say, 'I pick you over Princess Archie any day.' But I’m still pissed.
Fuck this tramp.
I start to pack up my picnic of Kibbles 'N' Bits and Beggin' Strips when she places both her paws on my thigh. I look down at her and can’t help but smile at that eager and beautiful face.
She does like me, she came back!
"How can I say no to that furry face?" I say. "But you’re in the dog house."
She opens her mouth and sticks out her tongue, panting. Her brown spots sparkle from the sun that is setting.
"Alright, let's go."
As we sit on the couch, watching Homeward Bound II: Lost in San Francisco (a film I put much thought into; All Dogs Go to Heaven was too obvious, Homeward Bound: The Incredible Journey was a little too dark for such an occasion), I hope she feels the same as I.
Put your arm around her!
I scoot closer to her on the couch. She stands up and cuddles next to me.
Success!
As time goes by, I can tell she is losing interest in the film. Every noise she hears she perks up her ears for and looks around. I ask her if she would like anything to drink and she starts to pant.
I walk into the kitchen and grab myself a beer. I contemplate pouring her one.
No. You are not THAT guy.
I get her drink and walk into the living room. One beer and one bowl of water. As I round the corner I find Ginger gnawing on my brand new Converses.
"Stop!" I screech.
She quickly looks up like a deer in the headlights.
"Here," I say as I hand her an Oscar the Grouch stuffed animal I’ve had since birth. She goes to town on the poor guy. Within seconds his head is ripped off and the stuffing is consuming the air like clouds from Sesame Street Hell. I examine the damage done to my new shoes. They are also done for.
This is a nightmare.
I turn to tell her to get out of my house but she is staring at me. A few awkward moments go by and then she kisses me. She starts to lick my face vigorously. I turn my head and plant one on her nose. This is the moment I’ve been waiting for. It is… magical. My only complaint would be that she uses a little too much tongue. I like a classier girl. But I’m still in heaven.
She quickly loses attention on me and starts parading around the room. She hears a bark in the distance and stops and listens.
This is doomed.
The bark becomes louder and in a moment of panic I realize what it is. Humphrey, my roommate’s Rottweiler, barges through the door on a leash dragging my roommate behind him.
He must have smelled her. She does smell wonderful.
Humphrey wastes no time with Ginger. Within seconds he is light years beyond my ability. He has no subconscious. He just goes to town on her. And she just takes it. I stand flabbergasted. Has he no idea that she is on a date?
Once Humphrey is finished he flops over on the floor and falls asleep.
"Sorry, dude," my roommate says.
Ginger shakes as if she has just come out of a pool and walks over to me and jumps up my leg.
WHORE!
I pick her up, grab her collar and leash and hurl her out the front door. She lands on her paws and lets out a yelp, but stands up. I slam the door and curl into a ball. I weep like I have never wept before. My roommate walks over and sits down next to me. He puts his arm around me.
"It’ll be okay, man, there are other puppies in the sea."
I stammer out words as I sob, "Turns out… she was just like the rest… fucks me over for the first Rottweiler who wagged his tail in her direction."
"What a bitch, dude."
"Yeah… what a bitch."
Now, if you are actually reading this, give me some feedback if you want. What do you think? Do you hate it? Do you love it? Funny? Offensive? Stupid as shit? Wanda Sykes is funnier?
Thanks, and I love you all.
Next on the roster: THE RANT!!!
A BITCHIN’ TIME
She likes me. She has to like me. She wouldn’t agree to go on a date with me if she didn’t like me. It’s totally normal to be freaked out. It’s the first date. Totally normal.
As I walk up the staircase to her front door I can only feel my heart pounding harder and harder in my chest. It’s been so long since I’ve had a date, I don’t even know if I know how to do this anymore. Fancy restaurant, diner, movie, the “theatre.” What’s the right thing to do? I mean, I want to make an impression but I don’t want to make the wrong one. I’m a free spirited guy: I like foosball and beer. But I mean, I’m not into indie music or heroin. I’m not that free spirited.
Just stick to the plan, it’s a good one. Childish, perhaps, but fun.
It doesn’t help that she is so hot that I can barely contain myself. But… she said 'yes.' Or what is like a yes to her. Now that I think about it, she really doesn’t say much. She just loves staring into my eyes as much as I love staring into hers. I know it. This is gunna go great. Just do it.
Knock on the door you pussy. Get this party started!
I knock. And I knock.
I don’t think she’s coming.
She finally comes the door just as I am about to walk away. I turn around quickly and smile, giving her an extremely awkward wave.
"Hi!" I say, almost too fast.
She just blankly stares back at me and blinks.
This is going to be a disaster... Wait!
I reach into my back pocket and pull out a Milk-Bone. Her tail begins to wag.
Bingo!
"Here you go, darling," I say as I toss her my little treat. She devours every morsel and looks to me with those longing eyes that I remember from days past. "Ready to go, Ginger?" I ask, and by the increased velocity of her tail, I can tell she is now just as excited as I am. She runs back through her doggy door to get her things and I look down in my picnic basket to make sure I have all the necessary items.
Collar?
Check.
Leash?
Check.
Tennis ball?
Check.
…Peanut butter?
Double check. Crunchy AND smooth. Just in case.
I don’t mean to come off as if I am overly expecting something to happen. I’m not that type of guy. It’s just- it’s been so long since I’ve been with anyone that, to be honest, I kinda hope this relationship moves fast. A boy has needs, ya know? But if she wants to take it slow, I completely understand. I mean, I’m not looking for marriage right now or anything. I mean, Jesus, I’m only just out of college. I have my whole life in front of me. I’m not going to rush anything and end up like all the others, alone and bitter.
I suddenly hear the flap of the doggy door and it yanks me out of my thoughts. As she stands at the top step of her porch, I fall in love all over again. Her nose is glistening just right, and the long hairs on her little Papillion ears are blowing perfectly in the wind. She pants in excitement as I place the collar and leash around her neck. She sticks her nose in the picnic basket and sniffs.
"Not yet, sweetheart."
I think she’s going for the peanut butter!
As we walk down the sidewalk, I can’t help noticing that prize show prance she has. This girl is in such a higher class than me, I’m going to have to put on my best game all the time to get her to continue to notice me. As we walk by a dark house a bark bellows and she stops dead in her tracks and turns her head.
And my heart drops.
How am I supposed to compete with this?
It suddenly occurs to me that this language barrier may cause the end of my beloved Ginger and me.
I’m going to have to go to night classes and learn Caninese.
She lets out her little yelp of a mating call and I scoop her up before things can go any further. She looks at me and then back into the darkness that provided that God-forsaken bark. She quickly turns back to me and licks my face.
Now, I don’t know if any of the faces that dogs make can be classified as a smile or not. But I assure you, at this exact moment, Ginger was smiling at me. And everything made sense to me again. Her ultra light body being caressed by my one arm felt so right. It showed her that I had strength and power that no dog could provide. Great DANE could not provide her with the cuddle that I could. St. BERNARD could not warm her in his winter coat after a long winter walk. Could they?
Those fucks have nothing on me.
I could sense that she wanted to be let down, so I placed her beautiful paws back on the pavement. We round the corner and her ears perk up. I knew the playground was a good place to take her.
I throw her the ball in the doggy park and she fetches with such finesse that I feel like I’m watching her in slow motion in an old romance film. She runs back to me and places the tennis ball back in my hands. Even her slobber has an elegance to it that goes beyond that of a normal gal.
She is the one.
I throw the ball again, this time a little harder than before, hoping to see her running farther than before. The ball bounces by a Collie on the other side of the doggy park. Ginger slows in her tracks and walks right up to this Rover and sticks her snout in his ass.
Who the fuck is this slut? Just sniffs any ass that comes her way?
The Collie, seeing my cute date with her snout in his bum turns around and begins to sniff her crotch. I get up.
I’m gunna put this mother fucker in his place. His crotch-sniffing days are over.
I walk right up to the Collie and hostilely tap him on his back.
"Who the hell do you think you are, pal?"
The Collie stares right into my eyes.
"Ruff!" replies my arch nemesis, who ironically enough turns out to be named Archie.
"Oh, you think you’re some kind of tough guy, huh, Lassie?"
That’s right; hit him where it hurts, right in his manhood.
"Let’s settle this right now, mano-a-peto. You name the place," I command.
"Ruff!" barks Archie.
On top of a roof? This guy isn’t as much of a pussy as I thought!
"Fine," I muster, but I look down at Ginger and I can tell by the look on her face she can smell my fear.
Don’t puss out; you’ll hate yourself forever.
"How do you want to do this? Fists and paws? Riddles? Some sort of sporting activity?" I ask.
"Frigure skating!" proclaims the Collie.
What a faggot!
Enough is enough. "You know what, Ginger? If you’d rather spend your time hanging out with Lassie Carrigan, that’s just fine. Have a nice life."
As I walk away, I feel so empty that I just want to fall into a black abyss.
She was the one.
Suddenly, Ginger prances up next to me, tennis ball in mouth, tail wagging as if you say, 'I pick you over Princess Archie any day.' But I’m still pissed.
Fuck this tramp.
I start to pack up my picnic of Kibbles 'N' Bits and Beggin' Strips when she places both her paws on my thigh. I look down at her and can’t help but smile at that eager and beautiful face.
She does like me, she came back!
"How can I say no to that furry face?" I say. "But you’re in the dog house."
She opens her mouth and sticks out her tongue, panting. Her brown spots sparkle from the sun that is setting.
"Alright, let's go."
As we sit on the couch, watching Homeward Bound II: Lost in San Francisco (a film I put much thought into; All Dogs Go to Heaven was too obvious, Homeward Bound: The Incredible Journey was a little too dark for such an occasion), I hope she feels the same as I.
Put your arm around her!
I scoot closer to her on the couch. She stands up and cuddles next to me.
Success!
As time goes by, I can tell she is losing interest in the film. Every noise she hears she perks up her ears for and looks around. I ask her if she would like anything to drink and she starts to pant.
I walk into the kitchen and grab myself a beer. I contemplate pouring her one.
No. You are not THAT guy.
I get her drink and walk into the living room. One beer and one bowl of water. As I round the corner I find Ginger gnawing on my brand new Converses.
"Stop!" I screech.
She quickly looks up like a deer in the headlights.
"Here," I say as I hand her an Oscar the Grouch stuffed animal I’ve had since birth. She goes to town on the poor guy. Within seconds his head is ripped off and the stuffing is consuming the air like clouds from Sesame Street Hell. I examine the damage done to my new shoes. They are also done for.
This is a nightmare.
I turn to tell her to get out of my house but she is staring at me. A few awkward moments go by and then she kisses me. She starts to lick my face vigorously. I turn my head and plant one on her nose. This is the moment I’ve been waiting for. It is… magical. My only complaint would be that she uses a little too much tongue. I like a classier girl. But I’m still in heaven.
She quickly loses attention on me and starts parading around the room. She hears a bark in the distance and stops and listens.
This is doomed.
The bark becomes louder and in a moment of panic I realize what it is. Humphrey, my roommate’s Rottweiler, barges through the door on a leash dragging my roommate behind him.
He must have smelled her. She does smell wonderful.
Humphrey wastes no time with Ginger. Within seconds he is light years beyond my ability. He has no subconscious. He just goes to town on her. And she just takes it. I stand flabbergasted. Has he no idea that she is on a date?
Once Humphrey is finished he flops over on the floor and falls asleep.
"Sorry, dude," my roommate says.
Ginger shakes as if she has just come out of a pool and walks over to me and jumps up my leg.
WHORE!
I pick her up, grab her collar and leash and hurl her out the front door. She lands on her paws and lets out a yelp, but stands up. I slam the door and curl into a ball. I weep like I have never wept before. My roommate walks over and sits down next to me. He puts his arm around me.
"It’ll be okay, man, there are other puppies in the sea."
I stammer out words as I sob, "Turns out… she was just like the rest… fucks me over for the first Rottweiler who wagged his tail in her direction."
"What a bitch, dude."
"Yeah… what a bitch."
Now, if you are actually reading this, give me some feedback if you want. What do you think? Do you hate it? Do you love it? Funny? Offensive? Stupid as shit? Wanda Sykes is funnier?
Thanks, and I love you all.
Next on the roster: THE RANT!!!