In the spirit of the improv comedy marathon that took place at the Upright Citizens Brigade Theatre here Friday-Sunday in New York, I am going to pleasure you with a little writing improv.
Here's how it works. I just need a suggestion from you, my readers, of an object--any object. I will then write a fully improvised sketch similar to all those I saw this past weekend based on this suggestion. I am going to log off now and wait for you to email me with the suggestion.
*6 hours go by*
Hello again. Okay, according to my Site Meter statistics, it appears that a mere two people came to my site in the past quarter of a day. And it also seems they arrived here via Google searches for Michael Ian Black and transsexual parents respectively. All I need is a suggestion of one object, then I can begin zestfully improvising about it.
*8 hours go by*
...I just checked my Gmail. Maybe I should have increased the font size on that last open call. I'll look up the HTML programming code for bigger fonts but in the meantime, I'm going to tell you something. You see, readers, improv absolutely cannot exist without the initial audience input. Without the very crucial audience participant shrieking "lollipop" or "razorblade suitcase," there is no way for me to humorously begin miming that I am a short order cook at Denny's who is making runny pancakes during the after-church brunch rush. Without that shout out, I am just writing bullshit that I planned to write about during rehearsal. So, zip me a nice little note and we can begin this bit.
*4 hours go by*
I understand that you may not be fanatics about written improv. Some you have expressed that improv makes you nervous and uncomfortable seeing writers on the edge of disaster, desperately reaching for something to make the audience laugh. But I don't care what you think right now. I just need an object. After that, I will never ask for audience cooperation again--I swear. This site will revert back to monologue format. Oh, and tell a friend about winneroftheSAT.com.
*1 hour later*
Finally...thank you Sally Carvers. The suggestion is "dildo." Very clever, Sally.
(WinneroftheSAT is pretending to plant seeds. He grabs an imaginary garden tool and hoes the ground in front of him. He mimes taking a watering hose to the crop. The water in the hose then gets backed up. He puts his eye up to the hose to inspect what is wrong and it hilariously sprays water all over his face. He then runs over to the other side of the stage and swaggers coolly into the scene swinging a pretend pocket watch.)
WinneroftheSAT II: (In comical fast talking salesman accent)Gee, it must be real tough being a migrant potato farmer in rural Idaho.
WinneroftheSAT: (runs to other side of stage) Sure is. (sprints back to stage right)
WinneroftheSAT II: I think I have something that could help your patch. Listen up kid, I'm only gonna tell you once. In this briefcase are the only tools you'll ever need. (clicks open briefcase, sets it on imaginary table. Looks persuasively at the space where the other imaginary person is supposed to be standing.)
WinneroftheSAT: You're holding a briefcase full of dildos. What am I going to do with a briecase full of dildos??
WinneroftheSAT II: Duh, I dunno. What would most people do with a tote packed with the finest, firmest dildos?
WinneroftheSAT: I just don't see how this helps the potatos.
WinneroftheSAT II: It doesn't! But it'll sure make a lot of people here happy.
WinneroftheSAT: So wait...lemme just recap the previous 10 seconds of dialogue...you're a travelling salesman, and you came to this corporate potato farm, to sell dildos... to migrant workers? Is that right? Why don't you try going door to door?
WinneroftheSAT II: Why don't you try shutting up?
WinneroftheSAT: Oh, let's fight about it then. Gimme that briefcase!!!
(WinneroftheSAT pretends to fight with himself. He runs back and forth punching the air/flailing in a typical improv manner. Each Winner grabs a dildo and strikes at the fake other a la the epic fight scene in the movie Sorority Boys.)
WinneroftheSAT II: Look at us. We're fighting. Over dildos. What have we become??
WinneroftheSAT: We should be making peace with the dildos. Not war. This isn't humanity. This is what savages do.
WinneroftheSAT II: We should get rid of these by dumping them in a hole somewhere.
WinneroftheSAT: Good idea. No wait. We should take them with us. And sell them door to door instead of field to field like I envisioned. Let's get outta here. Fuck this potato farm.
WinneroftheSAT II: I know just what to fuck this farm with too. (Smiles and holds up dildo briefcase.)