Bad script idea

nickgreen's picture

A friend e-mailed me trying to come up with a
good script idea. To spark his creativity, he asked me if anything
funny happened to me lately. Given that nothing funny had happened to
me, I chose to respond this way:

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Anyway, nothing funny has happened to me recently. All those
mistakes I made on my way to Helena were NOT funny. There is no script
here. It's a very dull story. Having a tire suddenly rupture when
you're still fifty miles away is a quite common occurrence. There's
nothing to it. I had to read the instruction booklet of the car to
learn how to put the spare on, but I managed it perfectly. Dull dull
dull. That the booklet didn't tell me what to do next also has little
dramatic value. I thus figured that the best thing to do would be to
head to the party for which I was now late. So I called James, but
receiving no answer I left the message, "James, I need your help," to
foreshadow my telling of my tire-changing adventure.

That awfully dreary book told me that I should under no
circumstances drive over 50mph on the twit tire that replaced the flat.
So I headed down the highway that follows alongside the interstate. It
had a much more relevant speed limit. I drove on toward Helena at
45mph. It would take me a while, but I would still arrive in one piece.
No, I was not deterred by the "pavement ends" sign. Yes, instead of
following the road called "Gilmore Gulch" I took the much more
opprobrious "Stock Driveway", but it did follow the freeway closer. As James' mother later pointed out, I missed the sign that read,
"Unmaintained Stock Drive Trail", and the swallow-your-car puddles
failed to daunt me.

My twit tire handled the road perfectly and those puddles were
nothing. That is, they were nothing until a puddle managed to swallow
my car. The fact that my cell phone had no service makes for very
little dialogue in this scene, and the hours of trying do dig myself
out would get real old real quick. Furthermore, my decision to remain
at the car, even though the interstate was immediately next to me with
the exception of the small river between us, will get nothing but yawns
due to the lack of action. The fact that my car wouldn't start due to
leaving my headlights on through all the digging, giving me no heat as
I tried to sleep in the uncomfortable car, will only yield groans from
the audience for having gone over the top.

As for the next morning, we may get some applause for finally having
ended it. But watching a wandering ball of mud hitchhiking on the
freeway in the freshly fallen snow still perpetuates the agony. They may get some comfort from all
the nice people who helped me out. The first taking me to cell service,
where I could call James, the second set taking me to a gas station where
I could heat up and eat a couple Snickers bars.   James recommended to me that I leave messages more specific than "I need help" in the future.  The unknowledgability
of James and myself on what to do next will of course be shown in quick
montage, still failing to grab any attention. Maybe if we used Queen
for the montage song we might stand a chance. Anyway, they again might
like James' parents, who had the right idea about what to do. "Why don't
you go to that house and ask for help?" And again they'd appreciate the
nice Montana man who took his pickup and tow cable and jumper cables
and saved the day.

All in all, and I repeat, this is a dull story NOT worth repeating.

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I just thought you all should know that.