Category: Bloody Mary’s Bar

Stories and scripts set in Bloody Mary’s Bar

SCRIPT: Bloody Mary’s — The Zequel

Posted on Posted in Bloody Mary's Bar, ScriptsTagged , , , Leave a comment

EXT: A rainforest somewhere in Southeast Asia.

A naive British explorer has been separated from his tour group on a hike and found himself lost and alone in the treacherous jungle. As darkness begins to fall, he searches for safe refuge from the many dangers around him. As he passes by a waterfall, he catches a glimpse of something gold and shiny at the top of the cliff. He climbs the rocks, following the light, hoping it will lead him to safety. As he walks behind the waterfall, he discovers a cave with a pile of gold sitting right at the entrance. He immediately forgets all logic and reason and reaches for the gold. The gold immediately turns to dust in his hand.

Suddenly, he hears a loud roar coming from somewhere deep inside the save. A fire ignites and lights up the cave around him. As he looks around in awe at the endless treasures lining the cave, a shadow appears on the wall behind him. He turns around to see an angry dragon staring right at him.

DRAGON: Who are you and why are you here?

EXPLORER: You can talk?

DRAGON: Ugh, of course we can talk. You humans are so arrogant. You forgot the language of nature long ago. Everything around you can talk. You just don’t bother to listen or understand.

EXPLORER: Uhhh… I’m sorry?

DRAGON: Why are you here?

EXPLORER: I’m sorry. I didn’t realize this was your cave. I got lost in the forest and needed a safe place to camp for the night.

DRAGON: I don’t see your camping gear. All I see is the pile of dust in your hand. You’re just here to steal my treasure, aren’t you?

EXPLORER: I’m not, I just—

DRAGON: Saw the gold, couldn’t resist, blah blah blah, heard it all before. Give me one reason why I shouldn’t devour you right now and save the leftovers for my midnight snack.

EXPLORER: Easy. I have yet to accomplish my greatest life dream.

DRAGON: Oh? You have a dream, do you? Well, I can grant you your wish on the condition you don’t steal my treasure.

EXPLORER: That sounds reasonable. We have a deal.

DRAGON: Well, go on then, what’s your wish?

EXPLORER: I wish I could go to America and go to a shitty little dive bar in a small town in the middle of nowhere and just drink a Coors and play pool with the locals.

DRAGON: Seriously? You humans are soooooo uncreative. The guy before you said he wanted to own his own business and you just want to go to a bar.

EXPLORER: I already have my own business.

DRAGON: I see. Well, if that is your wish, it is my command.

The Dragon snaps its fingers. The cave goes dark again. When the Explorer wakes up again, he finds himself on a bench outside of a little bar called Bloody Mary’s. The Explorer gasps, recognizing the name immediately.

EXPLORER: This is the bar from Betsey Horton’s story. I know this place. That must mean I’m in South Dakota! At last, my dream has finally come true!

The Explorer opens the door and walks into the bar. As soon as he steps foot inside, everyone in the room immediately stops what they’re doing and turns around to look at him. He can feel everyone staring at him as he walks past the regulars lined up at the bar. He takes a seat at the end of the bar next to a bald old man wearing sunglasses and nursing a Budweiser. A very handsome but weary-looking bartender appears to greet him.

BARTENDER: What’ll it be for you, Jack?

EXPLORER: I wish to have a Coors, please.

The Bartender makes a disgusted face and rolls his eyes.

BARTENDER: So you enjoy cat piss, do you?

EXPLORER: I’ve never had a Coors. I’ve only seen Americans drinking it on the Telly back home in England. Is this what proper Americans drinking at an establishment such as this?

BARTENDER: No, we prefer PBR here. That being said, may I offer to upgrade you for free since you’re clearly not from around these parts?

EXPLORER: Uh, alright, sure.

The Bartender grabs a can of Modelo from the fridge and a chilled glass. He garnishes it with a lime and places it in front of the Explorer.

EXPLORER: This is a Mexican beer.

BARTENDER: This is my favorite beer. It’s on the house. Enjoy!

The Explorer takes a sip and shrugs, unsure of how he feels about the bartender’s choice. He nurses it slowly as he looks around the room. He sees a pool table, a giant Elk head with a cigarette in its mouth mounted above the bar, various old photos and little tchotchkes decorating the wall. He tries to ignore the fact that everyone in the bar is still staring at him with wide eyes.

BARTENDER: So, what brings you here all the way from England?

EXPLORER: You know, it’s just the funniest story. I was living in Bangkok and I met this American woman at a bar that looks very similar to this one. She told me she was a writer and had written a book about this place. She told me the owner banned her for life because of the stories she wrote. Personally, I thought the stories were quite charming and amusing. Not really sure what this owner chap was going on about. She told me he had her arrested for sitting on the sidewalk and writing in her notebook. Is that true?

BARTENDER: Uhh… well, you know, she was a threat to him.

EXPLORER: I mean, but what she really though? Or were you just acting delusional, deranged, and unhinged? Tell me, what harm has actually come to you from these stories?

BARTENDER: Well, when you put it that way…

EXPLORER: I thought you had freedom of speech here. You can’t just arrest someone because you don’t like what they wrote about you.

BARTENDER: Right.

EXPLORER: Anyway, I just couldn’t resist coming all the way here to see it for myself. The stories she told me were just… wow.

The Bartender’s face goes white as a ghost. The old man sitting next to the Explorer immediately swivels his chair around and looks him up and down. An eerie silence falls over the crowd.

BARTENDER: You came all the way here from Thailand just because this writer told you to?

EXPLORER: Yes, that is correct.

BARTENDER: And what did you say this writer’s name was again?

EXPLORER: Betsey Horton.

The crowd gasps. The Bartender’s mouth drops open in horror. A huge, yellow, toothy grin spreads across the old man’s face. He starts cackling loudly and turns back to the Bartender.

OLD MAN: Hey Andrew! I hate to say I told you so, but I told you so. What do you think of your ol’ pal Mad Dog now? I sure know how to pick ‘em!

The Bartender’s face contorts as the realization finally washes over him. this is exactly the thing he has feared the most for almost a decade. Now, it has finally come to fruition.

ANDREW (THE BARTENDER): Betsey Horton…

MAD DOG (THE OLD MAN): That’s right. Betsey Horton! Betsey Horton! Betsey Horton!

ANDREW: Don’t do that! If you say her name three times in front of the mirror, she’ll appear behind you and put a curse on you forever!

DISEMBODIED VOICE: Did somebody say my name?

ANDREW: Oh Christ, now you’ve done it.

Andrew slowly turns around and sees none other than Betsey Horton standing right behind him. He screams and jumps back in terror at the sight of the fearsome ghost from his past.

BETSEY: Hello, darling. Miss me yet?

Both the Explorer and Mad Dog snicker as Andrew takes off running from behind the bar, out the front door, and off screaming into the night, never to be seen or heard from ever again.

BETSEY: Well, I guess I’ll be the Celebrity Bartender today. Anyone need a drink?

EXPLORER: Yes, please. This Mexican beer reminds me too much of your former lover. I wish to try a Coors instead.

BETSEY: Why are you drinking that cat piss? May I offer to upgrade you for free instead?

EXPLORER: I suppose.

Betsey pours a bit of orange juice into a glass and pours a Blue Moon from the tap.

EXPLORER: This is a Belgian beer.

BETSEY: Welcome to America!

EXPLORER: Please, I really wish to just try a Coors. Just once. I’ve seen it on the Telly and I just…

BETSEY: Alright, fine. Here’s you can of cat piss. Enjoy.

The Explorer takes a sip and makes a disgusted face.

EXPLORER: Wow, it really does taste like cat piss.

BETSEY: Be careful what you wish for!

The End

SCRIPT: Mad Dog’s Associations

Posted on Posted in Andrew, Bloody Mary's Bar, ScriptsTagged , , 1 Comment

INT: BLOODY MARY’S BAR – DAY

Mad Dog is sitting at the end of the bar having a drink when Sam comes over to wash the dishes.

Mad Dog: So… about that Super Bowl Party…

Sam: Oh sorry, Pup, but you’re not allowed to come anymore.

Mad Dog: Why not?

Sam: Because of your “associations.”

Mad Dog: Associations? What associations?

Sam: You know… your associations.

Mad Dog gives Sam a weird look and thinks it over for a moment. Finally, he has a realization.

Mad Dog: It was Billy the Biker Guy, wasn’t it?

Sam: What?

Mad Dog: I used to roll with the Bandidos, you know. That was back when I went to Barber College in Sioux City.

Sam: Um… no. Your other associations.

Mad Dog: [thinks it over again] Oh, you mean Doug. Doug the Drug Dealer. I used to sell mattresses for him back in the day. He still owes me money.

Sam: No.

Mad Dog: It was that damn Indian, wasn’t it? Joe Three Deer! He’s always getting me into trouble. He’s the reason I’ll never go back to the Rez. It’s been thirty years and he’s still trying to kill me!

Sam: No, no, no. I meant your OTHER associations.

Mad Dog: Ohhhh… now I see. It was that set of blonde twins I married in Vegas.

Sam: What?

Mad Dog: Yeah, they were my cousins.

Sam: Huh?

Mad Dog: It was a fast wedding.

Sam: Uhhh… no.

Mad Dog: Well then, I have no idea who you’re talking about.

Sam: I’m talking about Betsey. Betsey Horton. The Writer Extraordinaire. You’re guilty by association. Therefore, you’re disinvited to the party. I don’t want you passing information to her about what goes on here, which is a really dumb thing to say because literally nothing is going on here at all. I know that because I’m bored. So bored. So, so, so, so, so bored. That’s why I’m using you to start this shit with her again. Because I’m bored.

Mad Dog: Really?

Sam: Yeah, really.

Mad Dog: [staring at him in disbelief] We don’t talk about you like that.

Sam: It doesn’t matter. You’re guilty by association. Also, I am bored. Did I mention the fact that I’m bored? Because I am really bored.

Mad Dog gives Sam the once over and shakes his head. Then he finishes his drink and gets up to leave.

Mad Dog: You know, this bar used to be a really great place. Now it’s just a bunch of fucking yuppies.

Mad Dog leaves the bar and wanders over to Betsey’s house, where he finds her writing about a bunch of people who have nothing to do with South Dakota at all.

Mad Dog: You’re not gonna believe what just happened to me at Bloody Mary’s.

Betsey: Let me guess. Someone was a douchebag to you because you have the nerve to be seen out in public with me.

Mad Dog: Yeah.

Betsey rolls her eyes, yawns, and goes back to her writing.

Betsey: Well, if they don’t want me writing about them like they’re a bunch of petty assholes, then they should really stop acting like a bunch of petty assholes. Maybe try apologizing instead?

Mad Dog: Ehhh… fuck ’em. Let’s go to a dive bar in some random small town nearby. I’ll introduce you to some real people.

Betsey: I’m already there, fam.

They hop in the car and drive over the bridge to Nebraska.

The End

SCRIPT: Lisa

Posted on Posted in Bloody Mary's Bar, ScriptsTagged , , Leave a comment

Once upon a time, Bloody Mary’s Bar was owned by a woman. This woman is the most badass motherfucker in all of the bar’s history. This is the completely made-up version of her life story, as told by a writer who totally embarrassed herself after waiting years to finally meet this person.

—

EXT: Outer Space. A lone spaceship hurdles towards Earth at an alarmingly fast speed. It enters the Earth’s atmosphere and heads straight for South Dakota. The subsequent montage of scenes unfold as the Narrator describes them.

Narrator: A long time ago, in a galaxy not-so-far away, an alien baby was sent to Earth to collect data on human beings. A little girl named Lisa saw the bright lights in the sky and watched in awe as the mysterious unidentified object in the sky crash landed in a field near her house. Letting her curiosity get the better of her, Lisa wandered out into the field to investigate. There she discovered the wrecked space ship with a tiny baby inside. She took the baby home to her family, who adopted him and raised him as one of their own. From that day on, the alien vowed to someday return the favor.

Thirty-some odd years later…

A white Cadillac with chromed-out spinners on the wheels speeds down a dirt road towards an abandoned farmhouse. Three men in cowboy hats stand outside waiting. The Cadillac pulls up in front of them. Out steps a young woman dressed in all black carrying a suitcase. She flips her hair back as she adjusts her designer sunglasses. She opens the suitcase to reveal the cash inside.

Lisa: Is that enough for you boys?

The men look at each other and shrug.

Man 1: It’s more than enough. Unfortunately, you are a woman. Therefore, you will never be good enough to run Bloody Mary’s Bar.

Man 2: Why don’t you just get married and have babies like a real woman is supposed to do?

Man 3: Yeah!

Lisa: What the hell? I thought we had a deal! You said you respected me as an equal! Why are you backing out now?

Man 1: Well, we talked it over with a bunch of other men and all of us agree we’re scared of women with power and influence, especially you.

Man 2: The thing is… Bloody Mary’s is a working man’s bar. If we sell it to you, you’ll destroy the integrity of it for future generations to come. That’s why we can’t sell you the bar. We just don’t trust a woman to run it. You might let your crazy, irrational lady emotions and stuff get in the way.

Lisa: Wow. What a bunch of bullshit!

All three men suddenly pull guns on Lisa. She gasps in horror as she realizes she’s been betrayed.

Man 1: We’re sorry, but we can’t sell you the bar.

Man 2: We still want the money though. That’s why we lured you out here to an abandoned farmhouse where no one will hear you scream.

Man 3: Now you will die.

Dramatic music plays as the men start to close in on Lisa. Luckily, right at that moment, the alien appears to save the day. He jumps out of the trunk of the car and shoots each man in the head. Lisa grabs the suitcase full of money and gets in the passenger seat of the car. The alien throws a timed explosive device at the farmhouse and jumps into the driver’s seat. He puts it in reverse, does a donut, and takes off at full speed. They are less than a mile away from the farmhouse when in explodes into flames. Lisa clutches the suitcase to her chest and takes a deep breath as they make their escape.

Lisa: Thanks for rescuing me, Owl. I shouldn’t have come out here alone. I’m glad you showed away in the back to make sure I was safe.

The Owl: Anytime, sis. It’s the least I could do considering the fact that you saved my life once too.

Lisa: But the bar! What are we going to do about the bar?

The Owl: It’s already taken care of.

The Owl points to the glovebox. Lisa opens it and takes out a stack of documents. Everything appears to be in order. All she has to do is sign.

Lisa: Where did you get these?!

The Owl: I have my ways. And don’t worry about the murders. We’ve already taken care of those too.

Lisa smiles at him gratefully as they drive off into the sunset. Three weeks later, the body of the bar’s previous owner is found in a canyon somewhere out in Colorado, half-eaten by wolves. To this day, they’re still don’t know if it was a murder or a suicide.

The End

STORY: Place Your Bets

Posted on Posted in Bloody Mary's Bar, Short StoriesTagged , , , , , , , , Leave a comment

One not so special afternoon, Sam and The Line of Death are all huddled around the end of the bar pouring over pages of stats. Betsey is sitting on the opposite side of the bar watching them with mild interest.

In spite of her better judgment, her curiosity ultimately gets the better of her. She wanders over to the opposite side of the room where all of them are sitting and takes a seat beside Jaimie. All of the old men turn around and look at her suspiciously.

“What’s up, guys?” Betsey asks pleasantly. “I thought I’d stop being anti-social for once and come join the party.”

The Line of Death continues to glare at her in silence. Betsey flips her hair back and smiles cheerfully, determined to make herself some new friends.

“What are you guys working on so diligently over here?”

“It’s stats,” Sam says quickly, holding up a sheet with multiple rows and columns. “For baseball.”

Betsey looks at the sheet of paper and rolls her eyes with disinterest.

“Numbers,” she grumbles. “I’m not so good at those. I’m much better with words, as I’m sure you all have noticed. I still like baseball anyway, especially with the amount of hot beefcakes out there playing the field.”

Sam scoffs and tosses his head back. The expression on his face is that of pure jealousy.

“Beefcakes,” he mutters under his breath. “I’ll show you a hot beefcake…”

“What?”

Sam snaps his head back to attention.

“Huh?”

Betsey shakes her head and turns back to the Line of Death. Their ice cold stares are unwavering.

“So…” she asks casually, “Are you guys taking bets, or what?”

“It’s a one hundred dollar buy-in,” Howard suddenly pipes up. He is short, bald man with a loud, raucous, unforgettable laugh. “We’re betting on whose going to win the game on that TV right over there.”

Betsey turns around and looks at the TV he is pointing to. Then she shrugs to herself and takes out her wallet.

“I’ll give you ten dollars,” she says, slapping her money on the counter. “I know it’s not much, but it’s the best I can do.”

“You can’t join the game if you can’t afford the buy-in,” Harold says very matter-of-factly. He is a tall, skinny man with a penchant for Hawaiian shirts. He pushes up his glasses and clears his throat. “No buy-in, no bets.”

Sam looks back and forth between the group of cranky old men and the spirited young woman who doesn’t quite seem to understand her place. He suddenly sees a major opportunity sitting right in front of him.

“I can always lend you the money for the buy-in,” Sam says casually. He takes out a roll of cash from his pocket and waves it in Betsey’s face. She looks down at it and raises her eyebrow. She too can suddenly see the obvious opportunity there.

“I’m not in the business of borrowing money,” she says, looking back up at Sam. “But I’d be more than happy to work for it.”

“And just what to do you plan to do to earn it?” he asks.

“Whatever you want me to do.”

Sam puts his hands on the counter and leans in closer to her. He looks her up and down with a sneaky little smirk on his face. Betsey sits up straight and leans in too. When their eyes meet, everyone can feel the heat of the spark passing between them. Howard and Harold roll their eyes as Jaimie shifts in his chair uncomfortably.

“In that case, you can meet me in my office later for a private meeting,” Sam says. “We can discuss your future at the company. Perhaps work out some kind of mutually beneficial arrangement?”

“A private meeting, huh? I think I like the sound of that.”

“And I think you’re really gonna like working for me.”

“Is that so?”

“It is. You’ll find that my employees always get treated very well around here. Especially when they behave themselves, listen carefully, and obey all of my orders. Do you understand me?”

“Whatever you say, Boss,” Betsey says in her most flirtatious voice.

“That’s what I like to hear.”

Sam’s eyes sparkle down at her. She is just about to respond when Howard clears his throat loudly.

“Can we can get back to the game, please?” he asks in his grumpiest voice.

Betsey looks back at the Line of Death as Harold holds out his hand expectantly.

“Your buy-in, please.”

Sam takes a wad of cash from the money clip and slaps it down on the counter. He looks back at Betsey with a devilish grin on his face. Harold takes the money and puts it in a little bag. Howard makes a quick note on the spreadsheet.

“Team, please.”

Betsey turns around and looks up at the TV. She thinks about it for just a moment before deciding to go with her gut instinct.

“The blue one,” she says confidently.

All of the men around her look at each other and immediately burst out laughing. Sam shakes his head and chuckles softly at her.

“But they’re the worst team in the league!” Jaimie exclaims. “They haven’t won a single game all season!”

“Something tells me their luck is about to change.”

Jaimie folds his arms and looks at Betsey in disgust.

“Look, you can do whatever you want. You have the right to lose. I’m just saying they’re not going to win. It’s statistically impossible. All of us have been pouring over this stuff for years. None of us placed their bets on them. You’re making a big mistake if that’s what your decision is. Sam’s gonna be out a lot of money now because of you.”

“It’s not that much money,” Sam says calmly, watching the exchange with amusement.

“I don’t care about a bunch of spreadsheets,” Betsey snaps. “My gut instinct tells me they’re going to win.”

“Final answer?” Howard asks.

“Final answer.”

The Line of Death chatter quietly among themselves as Howard writes down the bet. Everyone takes a shot a LeRoux to seal the deal and promptly return to watching the game.

Sometime in the bottom of the ninth, a rookie wild card batter hits a home run with all the bases loaded. The four-point run immediately puts them in the lead. The opposing team has no chance to win their lead back.

The Line of Death stare at the TV in shock as the crowd goes wild and the team rushes the field to celebrate their first win of the season. They slowly turn their chairs to see Betsey’s reaction. Much to the their chagrin, she isn’t even watching the game at all. She is simply there writing in her notebook, lost in her own little world. Sam chuckles at the sight as he stands there on one leg and takes it all in.

“Your team won,” Howard says loudly.

Betsey looks up from her notebook and looks around the room in confusion.

“What team?” she asks obliviously, as if she has already forgotten the exchange from just a few hours prior.

“The team you bet on,” Sam reminds her. “The one we all said was going to lose.”

“Oh!” Betsey sits up and smiles in surprise. “See? I told you their luck was about to change! So how much did I win?”

Sam takes the envelope from Harold and counts the cash inside. He sets aside two hundred dollars for himself and hands the rest to Betsey.

“Looks like a thousand dollars,” he says pleasantly. “Congratulations.”

“Wow!” Betsey says, looking down at the envelope in delight. “It’s been such a long time since I’ve had this much money to my name. I think I’m going to go get my nails done to celebrate!”

She promptly stands up and shoves her notebook back into her bag. She motions for Sam to pour them all another shot of LeRoux and raises her glass high above her head.

“Nice doing business with you, boys!” Betsey says cheerfully, slamming down the shot and skipping out of the bar. “See you all tomorrow!”

The Line of Death glares after her as the front door slowly closes behind her.

“She can’t do that!” says one. “That’s unfair!”

“Yeah! She swindled us!” says another. “She must have had some kind of information beforehand that we didn’t.”

“We’ve been robbed!” says the third.

Sam shakes his head and rolls his eyes.

“A bet’s a bet,” he says. “She won that money fair and square. Besides, she’s a penniless Writer Extraordinaire. She doesn’t have a steady cash flow like we do. Just let her go out and enjoy herself for once.”

All of the old men grumble and go back to their spreadsheets, annoyed that they’ve been bested by a woman once again.

The End

SCRIPT: That Awkward Moment…

Posted on Posted in Bloody Mary's Bar, ScriptsTagged , Leave a comment

Betsey is standing onstage in front of a huge audience, ranting about what a bunch of bullshit it is that she got kicked out of the bar again.

Betsey: And then I told the Owner he could suck my dick!

Suddenly, the audience gasps. They give her a look like someone important has just appeared behind her.

Betsey: Let me guess. He’s standing right behind me, isn’t he?

The audience shake their heads nervously. Betsey turns around slowly and sees Andrew’s Mom standing right there with a huge smile on her face. Betsey’s eyes widen in shock. Andrew’s Mom titters at Betsey and shakes her head. She walks up to Betsey and pats her on the back.

Andrew’s Mom: You tell him, sweetheart.

Betsey: Thanks, Mom.

Andrew’s Mom: Anytime, sweetie.

She smiles again and walks out the door.

The End

SCRIPT: Commercial Break

Posted on Posted in Bloody Mary's Bar, ScriptsTagged , , , , , , 1 Comment

Everyone is sitting at Bloody Mary’s Bar minding their own business, except for Betsey. Suddenly, she looks up from her notebook and right into the camera at the audience.

Betsey: We interrupt this episode of Betsey at the Bar to bring you a special message from our sponsors.

The scene changes to a shot of Andrew lounging on his couch watching tv in a PBR t-shirt and a ratty old pair of basketball shorts. His hair is messy and sticking out from the side of his head. Lying on the couch next to him a cute little golden retriever puppy named Sam.

Andrew: Hey Sam-Sam! Do you want a treat?

Sam jumps off the couch and wags his tail enthusiastically.

Andrew: Can you do the special trick I taught you? Can you go get Daddy a beer?

Sam barks enthusiastically and runs out of the room. The camera follows him into the kitchen, where he opens the door to the refrigerator and picks up a pounder of PBR with his mouth. He shuts the door again and carries it back into the living room where Andrew is sitting.

Andrew: Good boy, Sam-Sam! You get a treat!

Andrew takes the beer, tosses Sam a piece of peanut-butter flavored bacon, and smiles at the camera.

Andrew: It’s PBR, the Official Sponsor of Bloody Mary’s Bar!

Sam: Bark bark!

The commercial ends.

The scene changes to an old gas station where Teen Angel is fixing up a car. He is covered in grease and dirt. After working steadily-but-unsuccessfully for a long time, he sighs heavily, puts down his tools, and walks over to a mini-cooler nearby. He pulls out a bottle of Miller High Life, pops the cap, and looks at the camera.

Teen Angel: Miller High Life. The only REAL beer for REAL, hardworking, American men like me.

The commercial ends.

The scene changes to a 1950’s-style suburban kitchen with a cute little brunette housewife setting the table for dinner. She is wearing a nice dress, a frilly apron, and high heels. Her hair is perfectly done up and she has on a full face of makeup. Duke comes home wearing a suit and tie. He hangs his hat up by the door and walks into the kitchen.

Duke: Honey, I’m home!

Duke’s Wife: You’re just in time for dinner, darling. I made your favourite: meat and potatoes with a can of Schlitz on the side.

Duke: Where are the children?

Duke’s Wife: They’re already in bed. I know how you feel about children, honey. They should be neither seen nor heard. That’s why I wanted it to be just us for tonight. I even bought a brand new set of lingerie.

Duke takes the beer and sits down the table. He takes a sip of his Schlitz and smiles happily.

Duke: Ahh, this is the life for me.

Suddenly, he hears somebody calling his name off in the distance. The scene goes blurry as Duke’s daydream dissipates into reality. He finds himself standing in a modern-day suburban kitchen wearing a frilly pink apron. The children are screaming loudly and running around everywhere. He looks down at the pan in front of him and realizes it’s on fire. Suddenly, his wife appears behind him wearing a designer pant suit.

Duke’s Wife: Let me guess. You burned our dinner. Again.

Duke: I’m sorry. It was an accident!

Duke’s Wife: Here I am, out there in the world, working hard, slaving away all day so we can have a good life, and you can’t even have dinner ready when I come home?! What good are you?!

Duke rolls his eyes and goes to the refrigerator to get a can of Schlitz. He raises it up in an imaginary toast as his wife stands there staring at him in utter disbelief.

Duke: Don’t worry, darling. I didn’t burn the beer!

The commercial ends.

The scene changes to Betsey sitting in the bar with a glass of champagne and her notebook. She pours one out for Dubs and orders a Miller High Life instead. Teen Angel serves it to her with a smile on his face. Betsey looks at the camera and winks.

Betsey: I don’t always drink champagne, by when I do, I drink the Champagne of Beers.

Teen Angel: That’s what I’m saying!

The commercial ends.

Betsey: And now back to our regularly scheduled programming.

Betsey returns to writing in her notebook while her characters return to tending after the bar.

The End

SCRIPT: Mad Dogz Titty Tourz

Posted on Posted in Bloody Mary's Bar, ScriptsTagged , , , , , Leave a comment

EXT. Bourbon Street, New Orleans — Afternoon

Two frat boys are standing on the corner drinking hurricanes.

FRAT BOY 1: Bro, this is totally lame. We’ve hit every bar on this street and it’s only four o’clock. I wish we knew where we could find a strip club.

FRAT BOY 2: I checked online but the only places I can find are in shady parts of town. If only we had a guide. A local who could take us there without getting us into any trouble.

Luckily, right at that moment, an old man approaches them on the street. He is bald and wearing a tropical-themed shirt and Raybans. He is carrying a plastic to-go cup and smoking a cigarette. He smiles at them with a yellowed, toothy grin. He is Mad Dog.

MAD DOG: You guys wanna see some titties?

FRAT BOYS: Yeah!

MAD DOG: Well, why didn’t ya say so? I know where to find all the best tittie bars in town. I can show you around… for a small fee, that is.

FRAT BOYS: How much?

MAD DOG: A hundred dollars.

FRAT BOY 1: A hundred dollars?! That seems kind of steep.

MAD DOG: These streets are dangerous!

FRAT BOY 2: Yeah, how do we know you’re not conning us out of our money here?

MAD DOG: Tell ya what. I’ll take you around and show you all the bars, and we’ll settle on a fee at the end. Now that’s fair, am I right?

FRAT BOY 1: Yeah, I guess you’re right.

FRAT BOY 2: Well take it.

MAD DOG: Alright, now just follow me.

The Frat Boys follow Mad Dog around the corner to where his vehicle is parked. There they discover a beat-up, old, orange bike with a cart chained to the back of it. On the side of the cart is a sloppily-painted sign reading “Mad Dogz Tittie Tourz.” Sitting inside of the cart are two medium-sized dogs.

MAD DOG: Now this here is Mama and Daisy. Say hello, girls.

The dogs bark at The Frat Boys excitedly and wag their tales.

FRAT BOY 1: Uh, are these animals dangerous?

MAD DOG: Not at all! They’re the friendliest gals you’ll ever meet. Now come on! Hop in! We’ve got quite the ride ahead of us.

FRAT BOY 2: I believe it.

In spite of their better judgment, The Frat Boys decide to hop on Mad Dog’s ride. First, he takes them back down Bourbon Street.

MAD DOG: Here we have the tourist district. There’s a couple strip clubs along here and there, but they’re mostly pretty tacky. You’ve probably already seen these and are looking for something more, which is why you’re taking my tour.

He bikes up and down the back streets until they start down St. Charles Avenue.

MAD DOG: Here we have the descendants of the Glorious Old Money South. The men in this neighborhood can usually be found out st expensive dinners in exotic locations with their favourite high-end escort. Women who work in this income bracket have a lot to offer an old-fashioned gentleman of wealth and power. They wear the best styles, speak multiple languages, and hold a degree from an accredited institution of higher education. The men are usually married but like to keep a younger woman in the side to make themselves feel young and free again. We call these men Sugar Daddies, and their ladies Sugar Babies. Naturally, some men do prefer a younger “boy toy.” It is also a common practice for rich women to keep younger male escorts, or “fancy men” in the same patronage-style as men.

Mad Dog suddenly turns his bike down a random side-street. As he bikes along, the houses on the block turn from beautiful mansions to uninhabited, broken-down homes. Entire blocks are flattened and destroyed. There is an eerie silence about the place. They turn down the corner and see a skinny homeless woman with a sunken-in face. Her hands are shaking and her voice is strung out. A man holding a gun is chasing after her, threatening to kill her.

MAD DOG: Back in these neighborhoods, some women don’t have a choice. There was nothing before the Hurricane, and even less after that. She, like many before her, turned to drugs like crack and meth with no other options before her. She ended up with this creep who abused her and sold her on the street. He took all of her money, beat her, and raped her. Now that she’s trying to escape, he is going to kill her.

They turn away just as they hear a gunshot and a woman’s scream in the distance. They continue on into another random neighborhood and pass by some ordinary-looking buildings. A massage parlor, a nail salon, an indescript boutique, and Asian-fusion restaraunt.

MAD DOG: Here we have more of an Eastern flavor for your liking. These girls are imported all the way from Thailand. They don’t have any documentation, of course. They’re locked up in the basement and sold as slaves. They keep the operation a secret by laundering money through various legitimate business operations. I heard they even have little kids available here too.

The Frat Boys look at each other solemnly. This wasn’t the experience they signed up for, but they learned a valuable lesson just the same. They return to The French Quarter a little less eager to objectify women. When the tour is over, they each give Mad Dog a $100 bill.

FRAT BOY 1: Thanks for the Tittie Tour, Mad Dog. I sure did learn a lot.

FRAT BOY 2: Yeah. In the future I think I’ll be a little less judgmental of sex workers and more respectful of women as a whole.

MAD DOG: Well, thanks boys! I sure am glad you enjoyed yourselves! Now get on outta here and go get yourself some Shrimp Creole!

The Frat Boys bid Mad Dog farewell and disappear again. Mad Dog gets back on his bike and returns home. “Home” is a historic house with a lot of old-world charm and character. There he finds Andrew sprawled out on the balcony in sunglasses with no shirt on. Sam, the golden retriever puppy, is lying in the exact same position on the ground next to him.

MAD DOG: Well look who’s here!

ANDREW: [mumbling irritably] What? I’m retired.

Mad Dog rolls his eyes and walks inside the house. There he finds a petite blonde lady in high heels, a dress, and a pink apron. She is Stella. She holds up a plate with little turkey sandwiches cut into triangles. Mad Dog takes one off the plate and smiles gratefully at her.

STELLA: Hello Grandpa. Did you make any money out on your tours today?

MAD DOG: I made about a thousand dollars.

STELLA: Wow! You’re doing pretty well then. Who knew you’d fit into the hustle and bustle of New Orleans so well?

MAD DOG: These rich kids. They don’t know nothing about the world. All I gotta do is show them the truth and they learn right quick enough.

STELLA: Well, I’m very glad to hear it.

Stella takes the plate outside to where Andrew is relaxing.

STELLA: Hey, are you hungry? I made you some sandwiches.

Andrew sits up and takes off his sunglasses. He takes a sandwich off the plate and stuffs it into his mouth greedily. Thankfully, he waits until he has finished chewing to speak.

ANDREW: Just famished, thank you. Who knew retirement was so exhausting?

STELLA: Oh, did you have another long, hard day of existential crises?

ANDREW: All I wanted was a life with no worries or responsibilities. I didn’t realize I’d end up reflecting on all of my choices this much. I’m just like sitting here asking myself all the time, “Is this really it? Is this really all there is to life?” If so, why am I so unhappy? I have everything in the world that anyone could ever ask for. Why do I feel like there’s still so much more?

STELLA: Poor darling. What can I do to help your predicament?

ANDREW: Just be my escape, darling. I don’t know what I would ever do if you weren’t here to make me feel young again.

STELLA: Aww, thanks. That’s sweet, but I know you’re only saying that so I’ll make you another sandwich.

ANDREW: Yeah.

STELLA: Okay, I’ll go make you another sandwich.

Stella goes back into the kitchen to make Andrew another sandwich.

The End

SCRIPT: The Untimely Death of Betsey Horton, Writer Extraordinaire

Posted on Posted in Andrew, Bloody Mary's Bar, ScriptsTagged , , , , , Leave a comment

Betsey is sitting at the bar with Mad Dog when they get into an argument. Betsey is annoyed so she gets up and decides to move over to the opposite end of the bar where The Line of Death usually sits.

Betsey: Oh, woe is me! I really am an old lady now! I’m on the Line of Death and everything!

Howard Hughes looks at her as if she has just uttered the most offensive, scandalous thing he’s ever heard.

Howard Hughes: Just who the hell does this girl think she is?

Betsey: The Line of Death, The Line of Death. What does it really mean to be on The Line of Death? Let me think about it for a moment. Hmm… you know, if I could pick a way to die, it would be eaten by lions while on safari. Why? Because it would make an awesome story, of course!

Howard Hughes: What did she just say?

Betsey: Just think! Everybody would be talking about it for weeks! Months! Years! Maybe even centuries! Yeah, centuries!

Howard Hughes is rendered completely speechless. Andrew smiles at Betsey and sighs dreamily. She winks at him and he winks back. They both know exactly what the other is thinking. Betsey gets up and leaves for the day. When she isn’t seen or heard from in a couple weeks, everyone starts to get worried.

Duke: Not that I really care or anything, but has anyone seen Betsey lately? I noticed she hasn’t been around. Not that I was looking, of course. I only noticed she was gone because it seemed a lot… quieter… around here than usual.

Andrew stands over the cash register and smirks to himself as he rubs his hands together mischeviously. At long last, the opportunity he has been waiting for has arrived. He turns around and puts a solemn look on his face.

Andrew: Yeah, didn’t you hear? Betsey Horton died!

Duke: What? How?

Andrew: She was eaten by lions!

Duke: Oh come on, Andrew. Don’t put us on.

Andrew: No, it’s true, it’s true. I was there! I saw the whole thing! It was awful! There was blood everywhere!

Duke: That doesn’t make any sense. How was she eaten by lions?

Andrew: She was on safari and she got too close to the lions so they ate her. I mean, they really just ripped her apart. At the end the hyenas came in. Once they were done, the vultures picked her off. Then all the the flies came and laid their eggs. It was super gross. There were maggots crawling all over the place. Then her body decomposed and became the grass. And then the antelope ate the grass and the lions ate the antelope.

Duke: What?

Andrew: Yeah. But like, that’s just nature, you know? The Circle of Life and all that. Yeah, I learned about it when I watched The Lion King with my daughter. It was so deep, you guys. It really affected me a lot and just, like, changed my whole perspective on things. It’s sad that she died, but she always wanted to go on safari, and she did say she would choose to be eaten by lions, so I mean, at least she lived her dream. How many of you can say you died living your dream? No one, because we’re all still sitting here alive. Think about that.

Everyone in the bar stares at Andrew in shock. They believe him. They actually, really, truly, deeply in their hearts believe him. They all sit there in silence looking super sad. Nobody knows what to say. Suddenly, Howard Hughes steps up to the plate. He buys everyone in the bar a shot of LaRue.

Howard Hughes: I say we make a toast to Betsey Horton, Writer Extraordinaire! To the bravest woman on The Line of Death!

Everyone in the bar drinks. There’s a moment of silence. Duke looks absolutely torn apart.

Andrew: What is it, Duke?

Duke: I just feel so guilty! I made up all these lies about her and told them to anyone who would listen. I was so mean to her all the time! But really she wasn’t so bad all along. I wish she was here now to wake me from my slumber with her loud, obnoxious laugh.

Andrew: Aww, that’s very sweet of you, Duke. I’m sure if Betsey was here right now, she would appreciate the sentiment.

Mad Dog: Oh will you guys just shut the hell up already? You’re nothin’ but a bunch of cry babies! Hey bartender, get me another beer, would ya?!

Andrew: Don’t you have anything nice to say, Mad Dog? Betsey was your friend!

Mad Dog: Meh. I’m no good at this stuff. I’d rather just drink a beer and smoke a joint instead.

Andrew: Fair enough. I can’t say Betsey would disagree with you there.

Suddenly, Betsey Horton walks into the bar, completely alive and 100% intact. Everyone turns around and stares at her in shock. They look like they’ve all just seen a ghost.

Betsey: What are you guys staring at? Is there something on my dress?

Everyone turns back around and looks Andrew with severely annoyed expressions on their face. Duke looks the angriest of them all.

Andrew: Uh… Hey guys. What’s up?

They promptly rip him to shreds like he’s Scar after the hyenas turn on him.

The End

STORY: The Legend of Chico

Posted on Posted in Bloody Mary's Bar, Short StoriesTagged , , , , Leave a comment

One not-so-ordinary day, I was sitting at Bloody Mary’s Bar talking to Mad Dog when suddenly, he mentioned a character by the name of Chico.

“Wait, wait,” I said, lifting my hand to interrupt him. “Stop right there. Who the hell is Chico?”

Mad Dog looked at me with one eyebrow raised.

“You wanna know about Chico?” he asked slowly. “I’ll tell you about Chico. Chico used to be the Owner of Bloody Mary’s Bar.”

“What?!” I exclaimed. “Really?”

“That’s right,” Mad Dog said. “Chico was one of the shadiest guys in town. He was Greek. You know how Greeks are. They’re like Jews. They’re nothing by liars and thieves.”

I let out a heavy sigh and gave Mad Dog a Look.

“Can we please refrain from making offensive generalizations about different ethnicities and perpetuating racist stereotypes?”

Mad Dog looked at me as if I had just spoken to him in a foreign language. He looked my face over carefully.

“Yeah, now I see it,” he said. “You got a little bit of something in you. Are you Jewish or are you Greek?”

“I’m a Citizen of the World,” I said proudly. “I’ve got a little bit of everyone in me.”

Mad Dog shook his head and rolled his eyes.

“Anyway,” he said. “About Chico. He was one shady guy. Not the kind of person you want to mess around with. One thing’s for certain, though. He sure did know how to get the job done.”

I opened up my notebook and started taking notes immediately. Mad Dog looked off into the distance nostalgically and began telling me the story.

“It was bar against bar. A race to the top. Chico screwed over a lot of people to get there. A lot of people were after him. He owed money all around town. He owed so much money, they even put a price on his head. There were Wanted Posters everywhere. Then one day, Chico disappeared. Just up and left town without telling a soul. No one knew where he was. There were plenty of theories, of course. Most people say he’s still hiding out back home in Greece. Anyway, a couple of months later, Chico was found dead in a canyon somewhere in Colorado, half-eaten by wolves. No one knows if it was a murder or a suicide.”

Mad Dog paused as if to say “The End.” I stared at him wide-eyed for some time before I finally managed to snap out of it.

“That’s it?” I asked.

“That’s it.”

I stared at him with my mouth wide open.

“You’re telling me the Former Owner of Bloody Mary’s Bar was found dead in a random canyon somewhere half-eaten by wolves?”

Mad Dog nodded.

“That’s right,” he said again.

I shook my head in disbelief.

“Seven years!” I exclaimed. “Seven years I’ve lived here and nobody ever told me this story? You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me!”

Mad Dog looked over at me and smiled.

“You really are a writer, aren’t you?” he asked.

“Of course I am,” I said. “Why else would I follow you around?”

He smiled at me again.

“So,” I said. “Who do I have to talk to around here to find out more about this Chico character?”

“Oh,” Mad Dog said, shaking his head. “You don’t just go around asking questions about Chico. Nobody in this town is going to talk to you about Chico.”

“But I thought you said Chico was dead.”

“It doesn’t matter!” he snapped. “You can’t just go around asking questions about Chico.”

“Okay,” I said. “But I’m just letting you know right now, the next time I come back here, I’m going to start asking questions about Chico.”

“Good luck,” said Mad Dog. “No one in this town in going to talk to you about Chico.”

The next time I went to Bloody Mary’s Bar, I decided to start asking questions about Chico.

“So…” I said pleasantly, cozying up to the Line of Death after another successful round of Jeopardy. “Did any of you guys ever know a character by the name of Chico?”

All of the old men in the room gave me the same look at once.

“Who wants to know?” one of them asked suspiciously.

“Oh, I’m just a writer,” I said. “I like to write about Bloody Mary’s Bar. I heard a story about Chico and I thought he sounded like an interesting character. It’s not every day you hear a story about someone who was found dead in a canyon somewhere half-eaten by wolves. I’m interested in hearing the rest of the story.”

All of the old men glared at me again.

“Oh, you’re a writer huh?” another asked. “Sounds more like a Troublemaker to me.”

“Yeah,” said another. “What makes you think you can just come in here and start asking questions about Chico?”

“Sounds to me like you need to learn how to mind your own business,” chimed in the last.

I was caught off-guard by their reaction. I had no idea it was such a big deal to start asking questions about Chico.

“I’m sorry,” I said politely. “I was under the impression that Chico was deceased.”

“I don’t know about that,” said PJ. “If there was ever a person I knew in my life who would fake his own death to get out of some trouble he was in, it was Chico.”

“You knew Chico?” I asked with a dazzled look in my eyes.

“Oh yes,” he said. “Many years ago. He was very good to me. He always treated me fair. I was sad to see him go. Then again, you never know. I went to the funeral. They never opened the coffin. I still like to think he’s over in Greece with his family, relaxing on a beach somewhere eating a delicious gyro.”

I smiled at him.

“I think that’s how I prefer the story to end,” I said.

“Me too,” said PJ.

All of us sat together in silence for a minute. Finally, PJ went back to the bar and I went back back to Mad Dog.

“See?” said Mad Dog. “I told you. Nobody in this town is going to say a goddamn word to you about Chico.”

The End

Overheard at Bloody Mary’s Bar

Posted on Posted in Bloody Mary's Bar, ScriptsTagged , , , , , , Leave a comment

One of my favourite things about being a writer is my collection of quotes. I have been collecting them since I was in high school. The following is a collection of quotes taken from my favourite bar, Bloody Mary’s. I have mined them from several notebooks I’ve used over the last three years. Some are attributed, while others are not. I hope you enjoy the show!

Mad Dog: This place sucks. Let’s go to Cleo’s.
Me: Ugh, why on Earth would anyone ever want to go to Cleo’s?
Mad Dog: The beer here is too expensive.
Me: It’s not expensive compared to a city. Besides, you’re not paying for the beer. You’re paying for the Bloody Mary’s Bar Experience™.
Mad Dog: What’s that? Sitting at the bar alone while everyone else in the room judges you?
Me: I see what you’re saying, but why sit at the bar when you can go outside and sit on the patio?
Mad Dog: You got on me on that one right there.

“What is it? The 1800’s?”
“Well, it is South Dakota.”

“Are you finished?”
“Yeah, I’m Finnish. Just kidding! I’m Polish.”

“He’s the Cornelius Vanderbilt of Social Security.”
“What does that even mean?”

“I keep my house emasculate.”

“If you’re seen slow dancin’ with him, it’ll ruin your reputation.”

“My couch may pull out, but I don’t.”

“I took so many pictures last night, I had to delete some apps to make room for them all.”

“I gave up Catholicism for Lent… five years ago.”

“Do you think we’ll ever make it back out to the Hills alive?”
“You two sound like a couple of old cowboys.”
“We are a couple of old cowboys.”

Mad Dog: Let me tell you a story about that guy sitting right over there. That guy was hired to kill me. He tried everything. He even tried to run me over with his car. Finally, he realized, he can’t kill me. I’m invincible.

Mad Dog: Andrew used to be a fun guy. Always surrounded by women! Women everywhere! He was nice until he became–
Andrew: A Capitalist?

“Sioux Falls is like a suburb without a city.”

Mad Dog: In a few years, you can retire. Upgrade to Executive Level. Become a traveling bartender. You know… Ski Slope Mama.
Andrew: Ski Slope Mama???

Mad Dog: [points to my phone] Can you find me a list of everyone who’s currently in jail?

“George W. Bush definitely has Jedi Powers. Did you see him dodge those shoes? Normal people can’t do that.”

Andrew: I went to Prom Dinner at Al’s Oasis.
Me: You went to Prom Dinner at The Taxidermy Capital of the World?!
Andrew: What? It’s a nice place. It’s the nicest place in town!
Me: [horrified stare]

“You’re not a real Catholic until you’ve had an exorcism.”

“It’s always been one of my dreams to pop an eye out.”

“I would never never teach Sylvia Plath, just because I would never want to be implicated in someone’s suicide.”

“The other day I was just driving along and everything was so idyllic, you know? And then I thought… I might die here.”

“I’m not gay, but I’ve got a huge guy crush on Steve McQueen!”

“I worked in a slaughter house once. I lasted a day. Not because I was against it, but because it was too far away.”

Tattoo Guy: There’s nobody real in this bar tonight. Everyone is just an actor playing their part on the stage of life. It’s all so fake and meaningless.
Me: Wow, TG, that’s actually really deep and insightful. I’m totally going to write that one down in my notebook.

Me: Oh, like Fixer-Upper?
Andrew’s Mom: More like… Burner-Downer!

“He’s ex-military.”
“Oh, so it’s his job to be an asshole.”
“Yeah, old ex-military is the worst.”

“It’s hot. I’m hungry. They’re 18. Let’s go.”

Me: [barging into Bloody Mary’s right at opening] Is there something going on here that I should know about?!
PJ: Uhh… there’s an employee meeting at five?

“Oh, you made multiple mistakes tonight? Welcome to Bloody Mary’s Bar.”

“Here, you smoke this while I go get a drink.”

“It’s not a real 21st birthday if you don’t end up in a jail cell.”

“They call him Smoke Manning.”

“It’s not Betsey. I would have heard her.”

“I literally have a Masters degree in figuring people out and I don’t understand what’s going on with men.”

Some Rando Who Just Got Out of Jail: This town is bizarre. It’s like I’m trapped in some kind of movie.

“I looked out my window and it was like a time warp.”

“I thought it’d be a dirty old cattle town, but it was actually a nice, clean place.”

“They call him Shithouse Dan. He’s from Texas. We wrote a song about him.”

Townie: [to Andrew] You’re better in real life.

Me: Owl, when did we find out who Edward Snowden was?
Owl: June 5th, 2013. Wait, who is we? Do you mean me, or everybody else?

Mad Dog: Did you get married?
Townie: Yes.
Mad Dog: [shakes his head and rolls his eyes] Another Idiot.
[All the married men in the room laugh. Andrew laughs the loudest.]

“My only plan in life is not to have a plan.”

“Smokin’ dope and runnin’ porn.”
“Sounds like the life.”

Mad Dog: Why aren’t you out there stealing Trump signs? That’s where all the money is!

“Can I get you something?”
“A new life.”

“I’m gonna squeeze it like it’s a chicken’s neck.”

“I don’t want to pee or piss all over your place of business.”

“So you’re mad at me because I have too many opinions?”
“Yes.”

[introducing me to someone new]
“This is the woman who owns my soul.”

“With all the money I handle, I probably have the immune system of a cockroach.”

“Sorry I’m not all smiles today!”

“What’s the matter? Why do you have that look on your face? Haven’t you ever smoked weed out of a giant plastic bag before?”
“No!”

“I love Star Wars!”
“Who doesn’t? [long pause] Fascists.”

“I don’t necessarily have the nicest wiener.”

“I don’t think you realize that when a jackal gets hungry, it eats.”

“I’m not saying you’re my Rosaline. You might be Juliet!”

“I’m immune to the charms of most men.”

“This song really pushes the boundaries of what it means to be music.”

Me: [comes in a cowboy-like getup]
Bartender: Why are you dressed like that?
Me: This is how South Dakota people dress.
Bartender: I’ve never seen a South Dakotan dressed like that.

“You ever look at people and think, wow, drugs are bad? Well, these are the kind of people you look at and think, wow, drugs are magic!”

“I feel like we all have pieces of the same story.”

Artist Kid: [comes in wearing a vintage leather jacket] On a scale of 1-10, how Kyle is this jacket?

“And then the evil villain mastermind sent his henchmen to spy on me.”

“My stripper name is Diamond.”

Mad Dog: [randomly, out of nowhere] Have you ever met the Hershey’s Chocolate Family?
Me: What?
Mad Dog: Hershey’s… like the chocolate.
Me: What?
Mad Dog: They’re from Germany.

Mad Dog: [talking and talking] You got all this down?

Me: I’m hungry.
Date for the Evening: Me too.
Me: Let’s go get R-Pi.
Date: No way. Can’t do it. [long and calculating pause] That would absolutely destroy my calorie count for the day.

“There’s an awful lot of ass-fucking going on around here.”
“Well, it is South Dakota.”

Mad Dog: Every day is Halloween.

“My mother always used to say that if you gotta go, you say you gotta water the lilies.”

Me: I’m gonna go watch Andrew paint the awning.
Mad Dog: Me too! I hope he’s wearing his tight little shorts.
Me: [excitedly] Me too!

“Haven’t you ever gotten naked and rolled around in paint before?”

“He lived in his house for eight years and only cleaned his bathroom once. He is The Most Interesting Man in the World.”

Mad Dog: Andrew, you’re the only person in this world that I like.

Mad Dog: Garden Gnomes are my favourite animal.

“I made a beer bong out of a flamingo lawn ornament in college. We called it The Flabongo.”

Mad Dog: You know the only reason why I like baseball?
Me: Why?
Mad Dog: Because it was the only thing they let us watch in study hall.

“Take your work seriously, but not your life.”

“I’m not thinking right now. I’m just talking.”

“Winter is for getting drunk and pissing all over yourself.”

“Sorry I wasn’t smiling at 7am!”

“I’m not really a joke person. I’m more like an anecdote kind of person.”

“Do you live out in the country?”
“No, I live on Jefferson Street.”

“You know you’ve hit a low point in life when you’re getting into a fistfight over a 30-pack of Keystone Light.”

“I’ll have a water with no ice, please.”

Rando from SoMD: I hope you put Southern Maryland on the map.
Me: Be careful what you wish for.

“Welcome to Bloody Mary’s International. The Owl is flying. Jester can check the luggage. He’s not allowed near the bar anymore after mixing this terrible drink.”

“You’re just like my pinky toe. You’re cute and little and I’m probably going to bang you on the table later tonight.”

Mad Dog: [catches me sitting on the bench outside of Bloody Mary’s] Well, well, well… look who I found sitting out on the streets of Paris.

“All I know about the Illuminati is that they’re on the dollar bill.”

“Oh my god! There’s not enough brains in all three of them to make one!”

“I’m sure I’ll see you all much sooner than I want to.”

“I worked at that gas station before it was a Casey’s.”

“I’ll have the cheapest beer you have.”

Me: I was actually supposed to meet somebody important here tonight.
Mad Dog: Was it me? I’m the only person who’s important here.

Me: That was fun.
Mad Dog: Not as fun as watching a sunset.

Mad Dog: Hey Andrew! Are you ready to go to the strip club now?
Andrew: [dead serious] Yes.

Mad Dog: And that was the first time I saw a really nice set of titties.
Me: The End.