V/O: This week’s episode of Magnets on the Fridge is performed on the set of Conundrum State Production’s Brimstone and Treacle, which runs through this weekend. This episode also happens to have been partially story-boarded and written by the winner of the write-a-segment-of-Magnets package Dennis "Killer" Pimple.

Paul: What is up?

Ernie: Nothing. What is up with you?

Paul: Nothing.

Nathan: I am from Canada.

LP: Hey there, my good friend, shall we go out.

Paula: Sounds like a mighty fine plan.

V/O: Hold it. Hold it. That’s not what Dennis wrote. He’s not THAT bad a writer. Come on you guys, do it for real. The book for this week’s episode is Naked Lunch by William S. Burroughs. Magnets is performed in front of a live audience.

OPENING BLACKOUT

PAULA: This is even easier than before, since we don't have to find our way down the hallway to the bedroom. Plus I made some cute alterations to one of the new pieces of furniture. Now it's just open the front door, veer to the left, and 3 little steps to the B … E … D.

UNCLE DENNIS (snorting awake) Zelda .. z'at you?

PAULA: Uncle … Dennis? Eweh!

Snap to black.

OPENING CREDITS

UD: You shouldn't have left in such a hurry last night, Bridget.

PAULA: Paula. I'm Paula.

UD: There was plenty of room on the couch for you … AND your hunky friend!

NATHAN: It's not a couch, it's a divan. We specifically replaced the couch with a divan.

UD: If it got too crowded, we could've all strapped in for the ride. That thing has everything I like in a couch: comfort and utility. Thanks for loaning me your crash-pad for a couple days, Jim.

PAUL: Ah … Paul. I'm Paul. It's my pleasure, Uncle D--, ah, Mr. Zits-- … eh, Dennis. Paula never told us her uncle was a writer.

PAULA: WAS being the operative word.

Nathan: Or that he was so young. How old are you?

UD: I'm the oldest one on stage.

Paula: Well we put out tons of calls to older actors. They were all busy---at rehearsal or Furr's cafeteria or at the VFW poker night.

UD: Oh so I was like the last resort?

Erik: Yes because we called lots of younger actors before you too.

UD: Oh great.

Nathan: Look we didn't write you into the goddam show. Let's just keep going.

Paula: Fine, well, Uncle Dennis, I didn't think you were going to be here until tonight.

UD: Bus got in early, and … ah … (gestures toward Paul)

PAUL: Paul.

UD: Paul was kind enough to pick me up at the bus station. Saved me a long night on a hard bench. Damn decent of you boys to give me a place ta' crash while I'm in town.

PAULA: How long is that going to be? Not long …?

UD: Just long enough to share Thanksgiving with my sister and my second-favorite niece, Paula here!

PAUL: Ah …

PAULA: Don't!

PAUL: .. Who's your favorite?

UD: (Paula mouths the words along with him) All the rest are tied for first! (Paula grimaces at the tiresome joke) HAH!

PAUL: (stands and walks over to the divan) It's our pleasure. I think it's neat to have an actual published author as a house guest. Is this the award Paula told me you won …?

UD: That's it. First Place, Writers Of The Future, in all its Lava-Lampish glory.

PAUL: (straddling the trophy and stroking it) Look at it … it's huge.

PAULA: Paul! Ehew!

UD: Hah! Sometimes size does matter, eh, Zelda girl?

PAULA: Paula. I'm Paula. Zelda's my mom.

PAUL: You know, I always thought I'd be a good writer. I've been thinking about taking some classes at the community college.

UD: The worst thing you could do! You take classes, and you end up writing like your writing instructor, who's guaranteed to be a failed writer, or he wouldn't be teaching writing at a community college. You want to be a writer, Tom?

PAUL: Paul. Yes.

UD: Then fuckin' write! Sit down and bleed a couple gallons of ink over a couple thousand reams of paper! Forget all that shit about finding a voice, character development, or fucking story arcs. Write until all the shitty writing is out of you, and maybe something decent will sneak up on you. Make sure you're awake enough to trap it!

PAUL: Ah … wow. Ok.

NATHAN: I can't get over the feeling that I've seen you somewhere before, Mr. Zitskle. Have you spent much time up in Canada?

UD: You think you know me from Canada? Although I've had the debatable pleasure of breathing the frigid air of the Great Blighted North from time to time in my travels, I doubt if you've ever set your Converse-bedecked tootsies in the opium dens, tattoo joints, and dwellings of ill fame wherein I ticked the tock until I could escape again from that snow-flecked nonexistence.

NATHAN: You might be surprised.

UD: From a Canuck? Doubtful. The denizens of Canada are wholly incapable of amazement, having besotted all imagination with homemade beer and televised ice wrasslin'. It is a myth that the United States and Canada share the longest unprotected border in the world. Our yawning indifference toward our northern cousins creates a barricade as tangible and impenetrable as three strands of steel fencing, jazzed with a jillion joules of electric juice.

UD: (rises to leave) I have to report to my counselor. I'll be back this afternoon.

NATHAN: What a talking asshole!

PAULA: Tell me about it.

PAUL: But it's cool, the way he uses words. "Jillion Joules". Heh.

NATHAN: What "counselor" does he need to see?

PAULA: (distracted) Parole officer, rehab shrink … who knows?

PAUL: Did he say "counselor"? I thought he said "consular".

Ernie: Hey dudes, how’s it hanging?

Paul: Well, Paula’s uncle is staying here for a few days. He’s a writer.

LP- Wait, I don’t understand why is your uncle staying here?

Paula- Well, once when I was a little kid, and I say once because if it happened more than once I definitely blocked it out, I was sleeping in my Holly Hobby bed…

LP- Oh, I had a Holly Hobby bed!

Ernie- Me too!

Paula- Anyway, I was sleeping soundly when for some reason I opened my eyes and there he was, uncle Dennis, hovering over me and breathing heavily.

LP- Scary.

Nathan- Totally, what did you do?

Paula- I screamed and ducked my head back under the covers and waited for a few minutes until I thought he was gone.

LP- That is really creepy.

NATHAN: Why can't he stay at your mom's, and you stay over here?

PAULA: Mom doesn't like him in the house, either. He did the same thing to her, back when they were kids. "Somnambulistic Respiratory Congestion", is what he calls it. I think he's just a perv.

PAUL: Maybe that's why sometimes he calls you Zelda.

NATHAN: Zelda … Zitskle? Your mom's name is Zelda Zitskle?

PAULA: Yep.

NATHAN: I bet that's one reason she married young.

Ernie- Zitskle. Zitskle. Zitskle.

Paula- Watch out Ernie.

Ernie- That is a damn shame. Zitskle. Always the last in line when going alphabetically. Always getting stuck sitting next to the foreign exchange students, Yzachlive, Xieavies… Lame.

Nathan: And also ZITskle.

Ernie- Woah. Zitskle! No joke. Imagine the taunts you would get. Zitfull, you got a wiener zitskle, nice zitty zit zitskle, zitskle is an ugly name ugly.

Paula- Ernie, you need to watch it my Uncle is very sensitive about his name.

LP- Well, no wonder he’s such an asshole. Wouldn’t you be if your last name was Zitskle?

Nathan- I don’t think so. You can’t use shit like that as an excuse. That which doesn’t kill us can only make us stronger.

LP- No, that which doesn’t kill us can only make us more bitter and angry and lead us down a life of despair and stomach wrenching guilt.

Ernie- No, that which doesn’t kill us usually turns into some kind of crippling disease.

Paul- Well, for all the losses he’s taken because of his name he has made up for with his writing.

LP- Lame.

Paula- Look you guys just don’t make fun of his name to his face. Especially if he has been drinking.

Ernie- OOOOOHHH scary.

Paula- I’m serious. Rumor has it he killed his wife because of such an incident.

LP- Get out!

Paula- I’m serious.

Ernie- I’m zitious!

Paula- Look, the story is as such. One night the two of them were at a friends house for a holiday party and they had both been drinking. She was introducing him to a few of her new friends at work when one of them asked for a clarification on his last name. Well, as you can imagine Laugh, laugh, laugh, jeer, jeer, jeer. Evil. Well, he didn’t take it so well so that evening when they got home he suggested they play one of their favorite games… William Tell.

Ernie- Oh my god I love that game. Red rover, red rover send Paula right over.

LP- That’s red rover.

Ernie- Isn’t it called William Tell?

LP- Paula, continue.

Paula- So, as Aunt Denise had done a million time’s before, she placed the shot glass on the top of her head.

Nathan- They were Dennis and Denise Zitskle?

Paula- Yeah.

Nathan- And your moms name was Zelda Zitskle.

Paula- Yeah.

Nathan- What is the world coming to.

LP- Go on, go on, she put the shot glass on the top of her head.

Paula- Yes and he pulled out his 22 smith and Wesson just like he always did.

Ernie- Get em Cowboy!

Paula- And he shot her, right between the eyes.

LP- Oh, good GOD!

Nathan- Evil.

LP- That is a really good story.

Ernie- Then what happened?

Paula- That’s it.

Ernie- What!

Paula- Look, I’m just saying don’t make fun of his name to his face or let him hear you making fun of his name.

Ernie- Well, I’m not going to play Red Rover with him, that’s for sure.

LP- William Tell.

Ernie- Right.

PAULA: All us kids called him "Killer", but never to his face. Oh also because he worked 15 years as an exterminator.

Ernie: Killer!

Paula: Or so he says anyway. You always have to take his word with like a shit-tom of salt. He's an unreliable lay-about. I think he used to be a heroine addict. And then a methadone addict. Or at least his mailing address was a methadone clinic for a couple months.

Ernie: Yep. He sounds shifty alright.

Paula: you don't even know the half of it. He used to be a scientologist.

All: No way.

Paula: Yep. You can see why we're never altogether pleased when he shows up.

COMMERCIAL

All five principles are at the apartment. Ernie is wearing a shirt with broad red and white horizontal stripes.

Paula: So anyway, girl, you'll never guess who I had breakfast with this morning.

L.P..: Dan.

Paula: No.

L.P. : Bill.

Paula: No.

L.P. Rick, Steve, Tim, Rod, Chris, Brady?

Paula: No, No, No, No, No, No. Rod…? Girl he was so monster truck euww- you can pull my pony tail but I don't wanna pull yours-gross. Girl, that was over days ago.

L.P.: Who?

Paula: Well…I had breakfast with Tom.

L.P.: Let's see Tom…um…nope. Who the hell is that?

Paula: Um…Tom…You know…Tom.

L.P.: No I don’t know-who's Tom?

Paula: Your Tom.

L.P. : I have a Tom?

Paula: (the cat's out of the bag) Ozzo girl! I had breakfast with Ozzo. And not just breakfast, breakfast was after sex.

L.P. Ozzo! The poe-etry expert that I dated first season.

Paula: Yeah.

L.P.: My Ozzo! The one attempt at love in my life. The man I read poetry for.

Paula: Yeah (meekly).

L.P.: Girl!

Paula: Girl (more meekly).

L.P.: I hate that bastard. He's an ass- a soul sucking ass.

Paula: Um…apparently he also sucks toes, which isn't that bad.

L.P. Gross! Waste your time. Ruin your life. Leave me out of it.

Paula: Are you mad?

L.P.: No I'm not mad! I just don't wanna hear about ever-never!

Paula: O.k. so we're cool?

L.P.: Yeah.

Paula: O.k. so bros before hoes. Right.

L.P.: That's exactly not what you mean-but you know I don't care.

ERNIE: What the hell is that!?

PAUL: (entering the kitchen) Ernie! What did you do?

Ernie: What the hell was that?

Paula: It's his Orgone chamber. A portable one. He brought it in today.

Nathan: Orgone chamber?

Paula: Yeah, it’s another things from season one. The uncle of one of the writer’s of this show suggested this weirdo book by Bean somebody about it and we were lucky enough to draw it. It’s like a type of therapy and has something to do with good energy and creating some kind of perfect sexual bliss or something. Look, it’s no secret that I don’t really pay attention at book club so that’s what you got to work with.

Nathan: It hightens your sexual experiences?

Paula: Or something. And normally, I’m for that, but it belongs to my gross uncle. So gross.

PAUL: entering) Wow. Uncle Dennis really doesn’t travel light for a guy on a bicycle. Amazing. No wonder he's a writer. The life he's living.

PAULA: He wrote one short story, Paul. Thirty years ago.

UD: Au contraire. I also ghost wrote a little number with my friend Orson Bean. (Paula gives a what did I tell you look to Nathan) This is some time back, mind you. And who all do we have here?

PAULA: This is Ernie.

ERNIE: Glad to meet you, sir.

UD: Better save that opinion till you know me better, junior. (stage whisper) Hey, Paula, I think I found Waldo!

PAULA: And this is my friend LP.

UD : LP Lymberolpois, from the Channel 4 On-The-Spot News! I love you!

LP: (flattered) Well, I …

UD: I watch your noon broadcast all the time! Everyone else in the ward wanted to watch that bitch Wendy Winkleman, with her perfect face and perfect teeth and perfect little tits. But I always convinced them that we should watch you, instead.

LP: (wondering) Well, um …

UD: I tell them, "she's a testament to Affirmative Action, boys! Look at her, she's got a face for radio, a voice like a gramophone, and mangles more words than an English-Esperanto dictionary, but still she's the daytime news anchor in a major metropolitan market! She uses language like it was a virus from another planet! You can't find a more ironic freak show this side of the Indiana State Fair!" You're a fascinating study in how low the bar of local news casting can go!

LP: (angry) Hey!

UD: Every day you're on the air is another blow for the ongoing dummification of modern society, and you don't even care! You go, girl!

LP & ERNIE: (together) What a talking asshole!

Paul: I think we should invite him to book club.

All: What!?

Paul: C’mon guys, he’s an author. To be able to discuss a book with an author. It’ll be just like Oprah!

Nathan: To be fair, Oprah has the author of the actual book their talking about.

Ernie: You watch Oprah?

LP: Goddam it Ernie, people should watch her. Oprah and Dr. Phil help people!

Paula: Yeah, it’s like men are pigs and then you marry them and they say you can’t cook but don’t go out with the balding and the…Yeah, I really don’t know what Dr. Phil is about. I gotta start watching that show.

TIME LAPSE

Ernie: What’s that smell?

Paula: The couch.

Ernie: No! THAT smell.

Paula: The couch!

Ernie: NO!

Paula: Ernie, you’re talking about that not so pleasing, not so horrible just below the surface, medium smell, right?

Ernie: Yes. It smells like (sniffs) WET NAPKIN.

Paula: Exactly!

Ernie: What is it?

Paula: THE COUCH!

Ernie: Well it never used to smell like that. What the hell do they do to couches over there at the Excalibur’s Army anyway?

Paula: The Salvation Army sweetie.

Ernie: (pulling out his sword-I give gesture directions so that Byron doesn’t fuck up the magic of what’s been written) Yes… "I’ll slay the dragon and win back your lovely daughter, but it’ll cost you".

Paula: Have you ever been tested for retardation?

Ernie: Paula, how do you get into that Exhalation Army?

Paula: Perfect. Have you NEVER been there before?

Ernie: No.

Paula: That’s hard to believe considering your…attire. Ernie look, the Salvation Army is a place you go to give away clothes that would be funny looking on other people. And they have killer tight-fitting t-shirts in the little boys section. I think they serve soup to dirty people as well…I don’t know.

Ernie: You mean they don’t fight, or march, or wear matching clothes or screamtalk to each other?

Paula: No. Ernie, why does this surprise you? We were just there.

Ernie: I’m just sick of mislabeled institutions. Salvation Army, Justice of the Peace—

Paula: Naked Lunch--

Ernie: --the Petting Zoo—Holding a baby’s bottle full of milk up to a fenced in sheep is NOT what I’d call Petting. Wait a minute here…you sell your old stuff to these people? No wonder Nathan redid the apartment. He probably cleared $30 on selling Paul’s stuff.

Paula: Normally I think you just give it to them.

Ernie: I bet he made a tidy profit on the loose change he found in the cushions too! I am shocked. Share and share alike Nathan!

Paul: AHHHHHHHH! (stretching)

Paula: Hey Paul. How’s it going?

Paul: Ohhhhhh. Have you ever felt like a Dachshund that’s been through a foamy, warm car wash?

Paula: Do seriously want us to answer that?

Paul: Ernie, Paula. I just love that sauna. I just love being cozy. I just love you both so much…(goes over to hug them)

Ernie: Paul, you have a sauna?

Paul: Uh-huh….Hey the couch! It looks so sexy! Do you guys smell wet napkins?

UD: (Removing gloves) Whoosh! The centaur has landed!

ERNIE: It's a little cold to be out bike-riding.

UD: (Removing helmet) Winter's my favorite time of the year for riding.

ERNIE: Really … (suspecting he's onto something) how so?

UD: (who is stripping out of his clothes while he's talking. By the end of the speech he should be down to the briefs). The bike paths are relatively clear of the fucking fad-fags on their three-fucking-thousand dollar road toads with their darling little clip-shoes they can't even fucking walk in, and dressed in their precious fucking primary-color matching spandex fucking outfits emblazoned with fucking product logos on their pert little bike-buffed bottoms so they look like a twin pair of miniature Fuji-fucking blimps advertising Italian prophylactics, bouncing above their gel-fucking-packed ergonomic saddles. They ride in fucking packs, migrating fucking peacocks, fucking honking and squawking about their fucking cardio-routines and fucking four-oh-one fucking kays. Every fucking weekend during the summer they clog the fucking bike paths with their fucking organized events, so they can fucking celebrate the fucking specialness of their concern for a fucking planet they populate with little their apple-cheeked fucking photo-copy automatons. Like getting in my way with their fucking slick recumbent tandems trailing a portable fucking kiddie-cage is going to be the fucking cure for cancer. (down to his briefs, and stalking into the kitchen) I tell ya' it's all I can do to keep from jamming a fucking bike pump in their spokes as they go zipping past me. I'll be in the chamber.

LP: I wonder what his favorite fucking adjective is.

COMMERCIAL

Paul has created a "writing station" on his table, with a portable manual typewriter. The WOTF trophy is on one corner of the table, acting as a paperweight for an array of unorganized pages. Paul's bent over the keyboard, trying to be intense.

Paul: (Types and then reads) Did I ever tell you about the Blizzard that fell out of the cup when the Dairy Queen worker turned it over?

Nathan: Yes.

Paul: Oh hey, Nathan. I didn’t realize you were here. I was just typing. Just—

Nathan: Trying to write? The Dairy Queen story? Again?

Paul: I should branch out shouldn’t I?

Nathan: Yeah.

Paul: I know! I could make it a sci-fi story. It worked for Uncle Dennis. Let’s see. (typing) I was in outer space.

Nathan: Yeah, and now then Blizzard could just float up out of the cup. Yep, you’ve got a killer story now Paul.

Paul: Well, Nathan. Writing is very difficult. That’s why not everyone can do it.

Nathan: Let me see. (He sits down at the typewriter and begins typing. OVERHEAD: TIME PASSES. Nathan pulls the paper out.) OK, let’s see here. "He slowly lowered his glass to the counter with more control than he would have liked. "Used to be that three fingers worth amounted to something," he thought as he turned out of the barstool and walked to the door. "It’s not even drizzling. Feeling like this, you’d think the evening could comply and there could at least be a light drizzle. If this were a movie or a story or something it would be drizzling and I don’t have a jacket and I could feel even worse. ‘Great,’ I’d think as I turned up the collar on my sports coat, ‘Now it’s fucking drizzling.’"

Paul: That’s pretty good.

Nathan: Yeah, not as good as the essay I just sold to the Westword.

Paul: What?

Nathan: Yeah, well really I just took a couple of Uncle Dennis’ rants, cut out a couple f-words here and there and stretched it to 1200 words.

Paul: But I want to be a writer. Not you.

Nathan: So knock yourself out. Write.

PAUL: (voiceover) The blizzard was supposed to stay in the cup, ya' dig? But this one came pouring out like … like a runny milk shake left out in the sun … no … like … like Niagara in the rainy season … like … like fucking liquid brains pouring out of a mescaline-addled head, jazzed with a jillion joules of electric juice!

Nathan: How’s it going?

Paul: (As UD enters) Well, I just can’t seem to ever find the right words the first time around. Or the second. Or the—

UD: Christ on a cracker! Don’t tell me you’re still bitching about writing. I got you figured out, you know that? There’s a name for you people.

Paul: I’m sorry?

UD: Yeah, you people who like to hang around us writers and bask in our reflected glory. We call you rag-hags. And guess what? We don’t like you. You annoy us. So you either write something yourself or you take a couple steps back. And by a couple, I mean you get the hell outta’ here.

Paul: But it’s my apartment. And I can’t leave now. Book club is about to start.

UD: Oh that’s right. I agreed to hang out for that, didn’t I? Just what I need. A whole club of people fawning over me and asking about my process.

Nathan: Actually, it’s pretty unlikely any of the others will be fawning. It’ll be something of a miracle if any of them can describe the jacket cover of our chosen book.

UD: (reading from Paul's paper) Zmpf … pouring out … jillion joules!? What kinda crap is that!?

Paula, LP and Ernie arrive.

Paula: Let’s get this thing over with.

LP: Seriously. Drug problem. Stream of conscience, blah blah blah.

Paul: Hold on, hold on. Let’s get settled for a nice relaxed discussion.

LP: Drug problem, stream of conscience blah blah blah.

Paul: Well, I see you’re point sort of LP. In that we already read William S. Burroughs novel Junkie in book club.

LP: Yeah, it’s like cut and paste, cut and paste. We shouldn’t have to be here. We should be calling in a past discussion from our local tavern.

Paul: Yes, well, while we may not love getting repeat authors, I think we can all agree that Uncle Dennis, as an author and a seedy person may give us some extra insight on this particular novel.

Ernie: Sure, if he’s really as seedy as he thinks he is.

UD: What’s that mean, short-n-round?

Ernie: It has been suggested through course of conversation and heavy suggestion that you, sir, may be a liar.

UD: Well, sure I am. I tell you, all the best writers I've ever met are so full of hot air they'd float away, if they weren't so full of shit to anchor them down.

Paul: (To Nathan) No wonder you were good at it.

UD: But as far as me giving some insight into Burrough’s self-involved drivel—no can do. I say skip it. Why can’t you guys read anything worthwhile like—

Nathan: Writers of the Future Volume One?

UD: Exactly, or (He picks a book suggestion. On Tuesday, he says something like "Oh I’ll think of something, just give me a day. On Wednesday, he reads the book suggestion)

Paula: Hold up. So Uncle Dennis, you say book club is over?

UD: Yeah.

Paula: Well, Paul, you can’t argue with a published author, can you?

Paul: Fine. Fine. I’m going to go get some water.

UD: Yeah I think I’ll get some "water" too.

Paula: Well, that was a shocking turn of good fortune.

Nathan: You’re talking asshole of an uncle is actually useful for something.

Paula: What happened?

Paul: I think your uncle just made a pass at me.

LP: You think?

Paul: He squeezed my tush and said he’d like to try it on for size.

UD: So what’s wrong with that?

Paul: I’m not gay.

All guys: You’re not?

Paul and girls: Of course I’m/he’s not.

UD: Hey buddy I just assumed cause of the way you decorated the place.

LP: What? Looking at the place, I’d assume he was a grandmother. Are you sure you didn’t want to try a grandmother on for size?

Paul: Either way and in point of fact, Nathan decorated this place.

Nathan: Right. Because I thought you’d like it because of your leanings. You read all the time and you love baseboards.

LP: So do grandmothers.

Paula: Look, Paul is literally the last person I would ask for fashion advice. He’s not gay. Oh and also he doesn’t sleep with men.

Nathan: But he doesn’t sleep with women.

Paula: True. So what does that make him?

LP: A grandmother?

Ernie: My grandmother sleeps with women.

LP: Thank you for joining the conversation with that over-share.

Paul: Look, Uncle Dennis, I think you should leave.

Paula: I second.

UD: But Bridget---

Paula: Paula! My name is Paula! Bridget is my bitchy twin sister. I hate her. She wears glasses and khaki pants and wanders around being all smart and shit. She’s a horrible human being and even saying her name creeps me out.

UD: Fine. I’ll go. But I’m taking my Writers of the Future trophy with me. I’m an award-winning author! (He exits)

LP: Of science fiction, you dork! That’s not writing. Beam me up. Live long and blah blah.

Paul: Well, that whole visit left a bad taste in my mouth.

LP: Over-share!

Paul: I think I’d like to get rid of all this stuff. It gives people all sorts of wrong impressions.

Ernie: Even the baseboards, Paul?

Paul: Especially the baseboards, Ernie. Man that guy really was a talking asshole.

FIN- Credits start going.

Sam- Wait, wait, bzzzzz, wait, new sides just came in, rewrite, rewrite, toot, toot, wait.

Erin- Hold up, a rewrite? I don't think so, this is a live sit com.

Hannah- Live!!!

Sam- Listen. Killer sent us an alternate ending.

Erik- Good god.

Evan: It's too late. We already had an ending. The show's over.

Sam: Look. He paid the money. We're doing the ending.

Byron- Fine, lets just get this episode over with.

Evan- We'll never do this again.

Sam- O.K. we need police tape.

Byron- What?

Sam- Police tape, this ending requires police tape.

Byron- Great.

Sam- No not there. At the kitchen opening thing.

Byron- Jesus!

Sam- Everyone ready?

All- YES!!!

Sam- And GO!

LP- Hello, this is the very beautiful, articulate, and smart LP Lymberopolis reporting to you live from South Denver where there has been a very strange turn of events. Apparently, the uncle of one Denver woman, has been using is Oregon Chamber, details at 10, as a shooting gallery and drug out post. This so called uncle Dennis has gone missing and police are still trying to locate him. Miss Chadwick can you tell us anything about what has been going on in your kitchen.

Paula- I really can't, all I know is he would get naked and then go and sit in his Seattle Chamber.

LP- Oregon, different.

Paula- Right, anyway, he will go and sit in there naked and do whatever it is that he does. I really didn't care what he was doing because he was naked, and well, I don't care what he does when he is naked.

LP- Even if it is illicit drugs and shooting things?

Paula- Especially if it's illicit drugs and shooting things, he's naked.

LP- Can you tell us anything about your uncle?

Ernie- (busting in) He's a talking asshole.

LP- Pardon me.

Ernie- You know it! LP, talking asshole.

Paul- He's a brilliant writer.

Nathan- A drug user. Check out how many drugs he had shoved up in his trophy he is a real winner.

Ernie- A real wiener….zitskle.

LP- O.K., this is LP Lymberopolis signing off, Back to you Ted.