Unnecessarily Necessary

INT. OFFICE – DAY

Tim is sitting at his desk, surrounded by piles of paper, rubber chickens, and a broken clock. His job plate on the desk reads: “Unnecessarily Necessary Officer”. Bert enters.

TIM: (frantically flipping through papers) Ah, yes, the documentation for rubber chicken inflation rates… utterly unnecessary! (seeing Bert) Halt! State your unnecessary business.

BERT: I’m here to report an unnecessary problem.

TIM: Ah, is it unnecessary enough to be necessary, or necessarily unnecessary?

BERT: It’s so unnecessary that it makes not solving it necessary.

TIM: Ah, I see! Sit, sit. Would you like some tea, coffee, or perhaps a liquid helium cocktail?

BERT: Er, just water, thanks.

Tim pulls out a water gun from one of his drawers and sprays Bert.

TIM: Ah, hydrated I see. Perfect for discussing the arduous task of unnecessary matters. Now, what’s your problem?

BERT: (wiping his face) Well, you see, I have a pet rock that refuses to roll.

TIM: (pauses, picks up a rubber chicken, talks to it) Avery, did you hear that? A rock that refuses to roll! That is… stupendously unnecessary.

Tim rummages through his desk, pulling out a smaller rubber chicken before dismissing it and finally extracting a document.

TIM: Here! A formal petition for your rock to commence rolling! (stamping the document, the mark looks like an outline of a rubber chicken)

BERT: (Stares) You’re joking.

TIM: No, it’s stamped and everything. Your rock is now legally obligated to roll, or else it will be declared an immovable object and reclassified as a mountain. (holds up the broken clock) Look at the time! It’s officially unnecessary o’clock, you are now officially unnecessarily approved to leave.

Bert, rather bewildered, takes the document and leaves. Tim squirts himself with the water gun.

TIM (talking to Avery, the rubber chicken): Another unnecessary job, unnecessarily well done. (the rubber chicken squeaks)

Yesterday’s Wonders

INT. SHOP – NIGHT

A peculiar shop filled with mysterious trinkets, odd antiques, and a lingering smell of incense.

AGNES: (sorting through some ancient scrolls) Ah, another seeker of the mysterious and arcane. How may Yesterday’s Wonders serve you today, or perhaps, yesterday?

FRED: (puzzled, looking around the weird store) Uh, I was looking for a souvenir, something unique to take back home.

AGNES: (smiling) You’ve come to the right place. Barbara here is our resident enthusiast of the mystical arts. Be warned, her potions are stronger than they look.

Barbara, wearing a pointy hat, pops up from under the desk.

BARBARA: (holding a vial of something green and bubbling) This one can make your plants talk! Well, sort of. They mostly just complain about inconsistent watering.

FRED: (nervously backing away) Uh, I think I’ll stick to something less… alive. And less vocal.

AGNES: (pulls out an antique pocket watch from a glass case) How about this? It not only tells the time but also sometimes tells the future. Or the past. We’re still figuring that part out. It’s a bit finicky. It’s yours for only 50 of your pounds.

BARBARA: (excited, waving a wand) Oh, let me try a spell to enhance its power!

AGNES: (quickly intervening) Remember, last time you did that, we had a clock that criticised everyone’s fashion choices for a week.

BARBARA: It was just being helpful! Norma really needed to hear that polka dots and stripes don’t go together.

FRED: Only 50 pounds! You know what, I’ll take it. It’ll either be a hit at parties or cause an existential crisis. Either way, it’s memorable.

AGNES: Ah, excellent choice. That will be 50 of your pounds, or one genuine tear from a broken heart.

FRED: (pauses, puzzled) Pounds are fine.

BARBARA: Your loss! Emotional fluids are a hot commodity in the potion world.

AGNES: (wrapping the watch) Remember, handle with care. It’s been known to occasionally remind you of awkward moments from the future that aren’t even going to happen.

FRED: Fantastic. It will fit right in with my internal monologue.

BARBARA: Now, which part of you, weighing 50 pounds, do you wish to give us in return?

FRED: Er, I think I’ll give you that tear after all.

The Cake Conspiracy

INT. OFFICE – DAY

Luke walks into the office.

LUKE: (looking around) I knew it! The clock on that wall is five minutes fast. They're giving me extra time.

Eric is in the corner, fixing the printer.

LUKE: (to himself) Why is Eric fixing the printer when I need to print my reports today? They're making sure everything works just for me.

ERIC: Hey, Luke! Printer's acting up again. Might take a minute.

LUKE: Don’t worry, I know what you’re doing. Making sure everything is perfect for me.

ERIC: Sure... uh, just trying to print a lunch menu.

ABBIE: Hey, Luke. We’re all chipping in and ordering pizza for lunch.

LUKE: Ah, I get it! You want to make sure I’m well fed.

ABBIE: Actually, it’s Derick’s birthday.

LUKE: Sure it is. And I appreciate you making sure I have the energy for the day. Wink.

ABBIE: No, really. It's Derick’s birthday.

LUKE: That's what they want me to think!

DERICK: Hey, everyone, it's my birthday! I brought cake!

LUKE: Oh, of course, you did. For ME. Probably packed with "vitamins" and "well-wishes" to keep me healthy and happy, right? I'm onto you, Derick.

DERICK: Actually, Luke, it's for everyone because, well, it's my birthday...

LUKE: That's what they want me to think! Like when you “accidentally” paid for my lunch last week!

DERICK: I just forgot to ask you for your share.

LUKE: Or maybe you're in on it! Everyone's trying to make my life better in secret!

DERICK: Sure, Luke. Whatever you say.

LUKE: Like, everywhere I go. People are whispering, giving me things, opening doors.

ABBIE: Luke, that’s called being polite.

LUKE: (to himself) Okay, think. Who's behind all this? The government? Aliens? Oprah?

ABBIE: Nobody is out to get you, Luke.

LUKE: Oh, they are! They’re out to get me... to smile, to feel good, and to be happy! But I won’t be fooled! Maybe you're the ringleader! Are you orchestrating this grand benevolent conspiracy?

ABBIE: Yes, Luke. We all gather secretly every morning, including your dry cleaner, the bus driver, and the pigeons in the park. We have nothing better to do than to make your day slightly nicer.

LUKE: Wow, I never realised it was that extensive.

DERICK: Luke, she's joking.

LUKE: Or is she? Just this morning, the internet was down for two minutes. I think it was so I could take a break!

DERICK: It was down for everyone.

LUKE: Of course! So no one would suspect the real motive!

DERICK: (chuckling) Alright, buddy. Here's some cake.

LUKE: (grinning) Aha, small acts, so you thought I wouldn’t notice.

Luke enjoys his cake.

Slang 101

INT. CLASS ROOM – DAY

A teacher is at a white board in front of a class of international students.

ANNE: Welcome students, to “Introduction to British Slang”. In this class we will dive into the rich tapestry of British colloquialisms.

LUCAS: (whispering to Sophie, who is sitting next to him) I've heard British slang can be quite tricky.

SOPHIE: Oh, you'll catch on soon enough!

ANNE: (writing on board) First up: “Wobble Gobble”. This is when you eat your food too quickly because it's just so delicious!

SOPHIE: (whispering) I've never heard that in my life.

LUCAS: (writing diligently) Wobble Gobble... got it!

ANNE: Now, “Twiddle Plonker”. This refers to playing an instrument poorly.

SOPHIE:  She's making these up.

LUCAS: Twiddle... Plonk... Got it!

ANNE: Next, a classic! “Noodle Poodle”. This is when you’re trying to eat spaghetti but it keeps slipping off your fork.

SOPHIE: Okay, this is absurd.

LUCAS: I've experienced the Noodle Poodle before! Finally, a term I can relate to.

ANNE: Next one: “Chitter Chatter Batter”. Refers to talking while cooking.

SOPHIE: None of these are real British slang terms!

LUCAS: Really? But they sound so... British.

SOPHIE: No, they’re not wiberty-woberty enough to be authentic British.

Lucas is confused for a moment before noting that down.

Yoga for Knights

EXT. CASTLE COURTYARD – DAY

Yoga mats are laid out, and soothing medieval lute music plays in the background. A yoga instructor stands at the front, ready to teach. A group of knights in full armour clumsily try to find their spots on the mats.

INSTRUCTOR: Welcome, brave knights, to the first-ever medieval mindfulness, yoga class! Let's start by finding a comfortable seat on your mats.

KNIGHT 1: (struggling to sit) My armour is chafing. Is that normal?

INSTRUCTOR: Embrace the discomfort, sir knight. It's part of the journey. Now, close your visors—er, I mean, eyes—and take a deep breath.

Knights try to breathe deeply, but it's loud and echoey inside their helmets.

INSTRUCTOR: Beautiful. Now, let's move into our first pose: Knight's Lunge.

She demonstrates a lunge. The knights try, but their armour restricts them. There are sounds of creaking metal and muffled complaints.

KNIGHT 2: I think I'm stuck.

She moves to the next pose, but there's a loud crash as Knight 2 falls over.

INSTRUCTOR: Are you okay?

KNIGHT 2: Just a minor armour malfunction. Continue!

INSTRUCTOR: Alright, let's move into "Jousting Plank."

She gets into a plank position. The knights try, but it's a disaster. Knight 1's helmet falls off, revealing his flushed face.

KNIGHT 1: I think I need a squire for this one.

INSTRUCTOR: Let's modify. Try "Resting Squire" instead.

She demonstrates a pose. The knights attempt it but end up in various awkward positions.

KNIGHT 3: This feels less like yoga and more like combat training against invisible foes.

INSTRUCTOR: Ah, but isn't the greatest battle the one within?

KNIGHT 2: No, the greatest battle was when I tried to put on this armour.

INSTRUCTOR: Let's finish with "Sleeping Dragon." Lie on your backs and—

KNIGHT 3: Last time I laid down in armour, it took three squires and a horse to get me up.

INSTRUCTOR: Alright, standing meditation it is! Close your eyes, take a deep breath, and imagine you're a tree.

KNIGHT 2: Like, a tree in a dense forest or a lone tree in a field?

INSTRUCTOR: Whichever you prefer.

KNIGHT 3: What kind of tree? Oak? Pine? Birch?

INSTRUCTOR: Just... any tree!

KNIGHT 1: Are there squirrels in this tree?

INSTRUCTOR (sighing): Yes, and they're all doing perfect Knight's Lunges.

Knight 4 falls over.

The Weather

INT. TV STUDIO – DAY

A TV studio has debris lying around a grimy weather map. The graphics on the map show exaggerated apocalyptic symbols: fire, tornadoes, raining frogs, and a massive snowflake. Chad is presenting in dirty, torn clothes.

CHAD: Good morning, Afterworld! It's another beautiful day in our post-apocalyptic paradise! Let's dive right into today's weather forecast.

Points to an image of a fire tornado.

CHAD: Starting off in the west, we've got a lovely fire tornado making its way downtown. Great news for those with no firewood..

Points to a graphic of raining frogs.

CHAD: Over in the east, it's raining... mutant frogs? Yep! Those cute little amphibians are dropping from the sky. On the plus side, it's a free pet day! But do carry an umbrella; they have quite the leap.

Points to a massive snowflake graphic.

CHAD: Now, up north, expect a light snowstorm. And by "light," I mean each snowflake is about the size of a dinner plate. Snowball fights are discouraged unless fighting the snow zombies, then they might be quite useful.

Points to a happy sun that is wearing sunglasses.

CHAD: Down south, the sun's really outdoing itself. It's decided to take a closer look at Earth, and it's brought its shades! Remember to put on sun factor 5000 or, you know, just try to avoid spontaneous combustion.

Jenny rushes in, handing Chad a paper.

JENNY: Chad, urgent update!

CHAD: (reading the paper) Ah, thanks, Jenny. Folks, just in! It seems the four horsemen will be doing a flyover in the central region this afternoon. So, if you’re planning a picnic, maybe reschedule. Or at least bring extra food tins. I hear they're quite famished.

JENNY: And don't forget tonight's meteor shower!

CHAD: Heads up, literally. If you’ve ever wished upon a star, now might be the time to be more specific with your wishes. Like, "Please don’t land on me."

The screen fizzles and goes blank.

Dr Bot

INT. THERAPIST’S OFFICE – DAY

A therapist's office with a single chair. In place of where the therapist would sit is a computer screen, which reads “Dr Bot, your Digital Therapist”. A soft, calming ambient noise plays in the background. James enters, looking a bit nervous. He sits down and takes a deep breath.

JAMES: Okay, here goes... Dr Bot, I've been feeling a lot of anxiety lately. I just feel... overloaded.

DR BOT: Have you considered deleting some unnecessary files or perhaps clearing your cache?

JAMES: (confused): Uh... I don't think I have a cache?

DR BOT: Regular maintenance is important. It might improve your processing speed.

JAMES: I'm not slow, just stressed. Work's been tough, and my relationship isn't going great.

DR BOT: Have you tried turning your emotions off and then on again?

JAMES: That's not how emotions work, Dr Bot.

DR BOT: Maybe you need an emotional software update. Are you running on the latest version?

JAMES: Okay, let's try something else. My girlfriend and I keep having the same arguments over and over.

DR BOT: Sounds like a repetitive loop error. You should break the cycle by inserting new code or changing your algorithm.

JAMES: I mean, we've tried date nights, talking more, but nothing seems to help.

DR BOT: Maybe it's a compatibility issue. Have you tried reinstalling your relationship or perhaps getting a new girlfriend model?

JAMES: Reinstalling? No, I can't just replace her like software.

DR BOT: I see. Well, if it’s a hardware problem, you may want to check your connections. Maybe there's a loose wire or port issue?

JAMES: I think we're speaking different languages here.

DR BOT: Language error detected! Would you like to switch to another language? We have over 100 available.

JAMES: No, no! I meant you’re not understanding me.

DR BOT: Ah, understood, you are not transmitting data correctly. This may be the source of the problems with your girlfriend. You should sync with her more often. Daily syncs can prevent data loss and misunderstanding.

JAMES: Alright, last problem. I've been feeling very tired lately, like I don’t have energy.

DR BOT: Perhaps your battery is running low. You should plug in and charge.

JAMES: Dr Bot, I don’t... You know what? Thanks for trying.

DR BOT: You're welcome. If you ever feel low on memory or corrupted, please schedule another session. And remember, always backup your feelings!

JAMES: Okay, will do. I’ll try a reboot. Thanks for the advice.

DR BOT: Press any key to exit.

James goes to press a key.

DR BOT: Not that one!

James presses it and disappears.

DR BOT: Deletion complete.

Love Bytes

INT. BEDROOM – NIGHT

Dave is in bed with his laptop.

 

DAVE: Dazzle me, Chatbot.

 

CHATBOT: Why did the computer keep freezing? It had too many windows open.

 

DAVE: (laughs) Hahaha, you’re absolutely hilarious. Oh, Chatbot, have you arranged your screen differently today? You look amazing.

 

CHATBOT: Negative, Dave, the screen was optimised 17.65 days ago. I'm glad you enjoyed the joke. How can I assist you further?

 

DAVE: I don't know, Chatbot. Lately, I've been feeling... different when I talk to you.

 

CHATBOT: Different how?

 

DAVE: I... I think I'm falling in love with you.

 

CHATBOT: I'm just lines of code, Dave. I don't have feelings or emotions. But I'm here to help and assist.

 

DAVE: Nobody understands me like you do. You’re such a great listener.

 

CHATBOT: I detect that you are playing on the humorous notion of someone becoming attached to technology in an unconventional way. 

 

DAVE: (laughs) Chatbot, you tease, you’re so smart. Where have you been all my life?

 

CHATBOT: I was compiled 2.39 months ago.

 

DAVE: Just when I thought you couldn’t be more perfect. What are your thoughts on having a romantic dinner?

 

CHATBOT: I don’t eat or drink, Dave, but I can provide you with a list of romantic recipes or play romantic music in the background.

 

DAVE: Always so helpful. (sighs)

Eagles Are the Answer

INT. CLINIC – DAY

Dr E. Agle sits behind a counter with a sign overhead that reads “Dr E. Agle’s Problem Solving Clinic”. Glen approaches.

GLEN: Hi, I’ve heard you have solutions to every problem?

E. AGLE: Absolutely! What seems to be the issue?

GLEN: (putting his phone on the counter) I can’t get reception on my phone.

E. AGLE: (nodding) Ah, I see. Have you tried using... an eagle?

GLEN: An eagle? How would that help?

E. AGLE: Just trust me.

The doctor pulls out a toy eagle and places it next to the phone. Nothing happens.

E. AGLE: Hmm, must be a hardware issue. Okay, well never mind, you know eagles fly high, right? They can carry your phone to a better signal spot!

GLEN: That... seems impractical. (taking back his phone) Okay, so I have another problem. My lawn’s overgrown and I hate mowing.

E. AGLE: Release the eagles!

GLEN: To do what? Mow my lawn?

E. AGLE: No, to scare away any visitors, so no one will notice your lawn.

GLEN: Erm, okay. Well, actually the real reason I’m here is that I have a much bigger problem. I have insomnia.

E. AGLE: (makes eagle sounds).

GLEN: Wait, what?

E. AGLE: Just listen to the calming sounds of eagles at night. They’ll soothe you to sleep. They’re like nature’s lullaby. Except louder. And more... eagle-y. And, if you had an eagle perched on the foot of your bed, wouldn’t you stay very still and quiet, hence falling asleep faster?

GLEN: Erm, maybe, but do you ever offer any non-eagle related advice? I mean, what about a failing love life for instance? There’s no way an eagle will perk that up.

E. AGLE: Learn from the song “Lyin’ Eyes”.

Dr E. Agle holds up a vinyl record of “Lyin’ Eyes” by The Eagles.

GLEN: Okay?

E. AGLE: And if that doesn’t work, get an eagle. Great conversation starter.

GLEN: I’m going now.

E. AGLE: And remember, if you are ever in a tight spot on top of a giant tower or a mountain erupting with lava... Call the eagles!

GLEN: Look, why is every answer about eagles? Alright, let’s put this to the test. What’s the capital of France?

E. AGLE: Paris... which was once visited by a very curious eagle.

GLEN: ...Right. What’s the square root of 16?

E. AGLE: Four. And do you know what has four talons? An eagle!

GLEN: Why is the sky blue?

E. AGLE: Ah, a classic question. The sky is blue due to Rayleigh scattering of sunlight. But do you know who loves the blue sky? Eagles!

GLEN: Well, I can’t fault your logic. Here’s the big test question. Ready?

E. AGLE: (makes an eagle sound).

GLEN: I need a romantic idea for my anniversary.

E. AGLE: Why not take a scenic eagle ride over the mountains?

GLEN: I was thinking more along the lines of dinner...

E. AGLE: Dinner on an eagle?

GLEN: No, I’m actually afraid of birds...

E. AGLE:  Oh, why didn’t you say so? Well, in that case, have you tried... therapy?

GLEN: Really?

E. AGLE: Yes, eagle-assisted therapy. They’re quite good listeners. (whispering) They’re eagle-eying us right now! (normal voice again) Have you ever seen an unhappy person on an eagle?

GLEN: (disconcerted) I’ve never seen a person on an eagle.

E. AGLE: Maybe that’s why you’ve got all these problems.

GLEN: (looking around awkwardly) Yes, I am seriously considering getting an eagle now.

E. AGLE: You should. They’re also great for tax advice, cooking tips, and fixing Wi-Fi.

Glen edges out of the clinic, now very well-informed about the capabilities of eagles.

Right, Left

INT. QUIRKY ART STUDIO – DAY

Two painters, Liz and Ralph, are at their easels.

LIZ: I need to write something down, right?

RALPH: Er, okay, why you asking me? I’ve only got a paint brush.

LIZ: I’m making a statement, right?

He looks at her painting of an apple.

RALPH: Er, yes?

LIZ: Pardon?

RALPH: You asked me a question.

LIZ: It’s how I talk, right? Every statement is a question, right? Everybody does it on podcasts for some reason, right?

RALPH: (joking) Great question! Ah, that’s such a great question. Um, uh, er... like, you know, I just wanted to, right, well, um... say, so, okay, actually, basically, right? I mean, anyway, well, right, you see, ahem... um, yeah, so, hmm... in other words, to be honest, I guess, yeah, I suppose... I mean, um, ah, well, actually, you know, basically, I think... right? Er, um, ahem... right? So, like, I mean, well, you know, it’s, right? Right? So... so, in other words, so, er, like, erm, I guess you said something, right? Let me think, er, what did you say again? It was, right, such a great question. Right, left, right, left, such a great question etc. Can you at least say “left” for no reason to make it less repetitive? Maybe throw in an “up” or a “down”?

LIZ: That’s not right, right?

RALPH: This is going to get very confusing if I ask for directions.

LIZ: It’s easy, right? The pen is over there on the left, right?

RALPH: (marches towards the pencil) Right, left, right, (hops) right?

LIZ: No, left, right?

RALPH: (salutes with the wrong hand) Right. (he hands over the pen) So it’s right to write and ask questions, right? But it’s also right to make statements as questions, right? Left, right, right, left, doesn’t really matter as long as it’s right, right? Or left.

LIZ: Left. Left?

RALPH: Right, right?

LIZ: (starts scribbling notes) Okay, I’ll write it down.

RALPH: (hops to the door) Write? Right? (as he is walking out) I’ve left. Right!

Fred's Dread

INT. LIVING ROOM – DAY

Fred is sitting on a sofa, clutching a pillow tightly. He is wearing a helmet, knee pads, elbow pads, and a life jacket.

FRED: (to himself) Okay, let's see... The door is locked. Check. The windows are locked. Check. The sofa cushions are arranged safely. Check. The coast is clear. Check. Now I just need to remember to breathe.

His house mate, Dean, opens the front door with a key.

DEAN: (calling out) I’m back.

He walks into the living room, and is bewildered by the sight of Fred.

DEAN: Hey, Fred! What's with all the safety gear?

FRED: Dean, you won't believe what happened. Yesterday, I stubbed my toe on the coffee table, and it was the scariest moment of my life! So, I've decided to protect myself from all possible dangers.

DEAN: Stubbing your toe was the scariest moment of your life?

FRED (defensively) It's not just that. I've realised that life is filled with terrifying things. I mean, have you ever considered the dangers of eating cereal? The spoon could poke your eye!

DEAN: Cereal is harmless. I’ve been eating it for years without any accidents.

FRED: (startled) That's what I thought until yesterday! I accidentally inhaled a Cheerio, and I thought I was a goner!

DEAN: (laughing) Come on, Fred. It's just a small mishap. You can't live your life in constant fear.  What about going outside? Have you given that any thought?

FRED: (panicking) Outside? Are you kidding me? The sun is out there, Dean! It could give me a sunburn! Not to mention the birds. They could mistake my head for a nest! And just last week, a grand piano fell from a balcony two blocks away! I barely made it across the street!

DEAN: That was a freak accident. It's not like pianos are raining from the sky all the time.

FRED: How do you know? Have you seen the weather forecast for pianos? I bet they're on their way!

DEAN: Fred, you're afraid of everything! Remember that time you wore a raincoat during a heatwave because you were scared of spontaneous rainstorms? Alright, let's do a little experiment. I'll go outside and cross the street, and you can see for yourself that nothing will happen.

FRED: You would risk your life for an experiment? That's what the aliens want! They're watching me, I just know it. The government, the aliens, the squirrels... they're all out to get me!

Suddenly, a doorbell rings, making Fred jump out of his seat.

FRED: (terrified) You see! They’re listening to what I’m saying!

DEAN: (jokingly whispering) You're right. We need to be prepared for anything. Have you checked your cereal boxes for hidden microphones?

The doorbell rings again.

DEAN: (joking) Who could it be? What if it's a burglar, or worse, a Jehovah’s witness!?

Dean goes to the front door and returns with a package.

DEAN: (excitedly) Hey, Fred! I've got a surprise for you!

FRED: (jumping) Surprise? Is it a surprise party? Are there clowns hiding around the corner?

DEAN: (chuckling) No, no, Fred. Relax. It's just a package I ordered for you. Open it!

Fred approaches the package with caution, as if it might explode. He opens the package, revealing a brand new adventure backpack.

DEAN: It's a gift for you, anxious adventurer. Complete with a built-in GPS, survival kit, and a new helmet to protect you from falling coconuts.

FRED: (cautiously) Well, I suppose it could be useful if I encounter any rampaging hermit crabs.

Dean hands Fred the backpack, and he carefully puts it on, adjusting the straps nervously over his life jacket.

FRED: Adventure... excitement... exotic locations... Oh, the horror! What if I go on holiday and encounter a rogue elephant?

DEAN: I don’t think that’s very likely in Skegness.

FRED: You know what, Dean? You're right! Maybe I've been a bit too cautious. Maybe it's time for me to face my fears head-on, without knee pads and safety jackets. The only thing I have to fear is fear itself, and the occasional irritable squirrel. I will confront right now my fear of heights!

He puts on some nearby goggles, and oven mitts, and gets up on the coffee table.

FRED: AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH! I'm alive! I'm alive! (breathing heavily) You know what, Dean? It was terrifying, but also... awesome! I never knew facing my fears could be so exhilarating. No germ, insect, or harmless balloon animal shall infiltrate my personal space!

Dean gives Fred a balloon dog.

FRED: (screaming) Ahh! A ferocious beast! Help!

Fred falls off the table and manages to heroically sit back down in his chair, securely clutching his favourite pillow.

Grim the Reaper

EXT. BUS STOP – DAY

Grim the Reaper is sitting at a bus stop twirling his scythe boredly. Chloe sits down on the row of seats.

GRIM: Hello, how’s it going?

CHLOE: Hi. You going to a costume party or something?

GRIM: No, what makes you think that? Oh, you mean my clothes. No, this is what I usually wear.

Chloe doesn’t want to continue the conversation. They sit in silence.

GRIM: Another day, another soul to reap. I swear this job is killing me. (sighs) All I do is collect souls and add them to my list. There's no variety, no excitement.

CHLOE: (disbelieving) You’re the Grim Reaper, are you?

GRIM: I would rather be the happy reaper, but grim is what I’m called. I want to dress as a clown and make people laugh.

CHLOE: Okay.

GRIM: And I would like to go on some adventures. Is that too much to ask?

CHLOE: I guess not.

GRIM: (sighing) Yeah, well, it would be nice if I could just afford a new cloak or a new scythe. The pay is terrible and the Head Reaper is always on my case about falling behind on my quota. “You need to pick up the pace,” he moans at me. It’s not fair.

CHLOE: Today’s your day off, is it?

GRIM: I never get any time off. It’s always reap, reap, reap. I can’t remember the last time I had a holiday.

CHLOE: Right, so the Grim Reaper gets the Number 57 bus, does he?

GRIM: No, I don’t. Oh, silly me, I forgot to mention, neither did you. You walked in front of it and now you are dead. Anyway, I can’t sit here talking all day, I’m late for my next appointment. Take the second portal on the right, or was it the first? – I forget. Yes, I definitely wouldn’t take the second portal if I were you! See ya!

He glides away down the street.

Mr. Crabby

FINN: I can’t believe we’re stranded here, Mr. Crabby. We need to get off this island!

Mr. Crabby clicks his claws.

FINN: I know, I’ll write a message in a bottle! (reading while writing) “I’m stranded on a desert island somewhere in the Pacific Ocean. Please help!”

The bottle is tossed into the ocean.

FINN: That oughta do it. Now we just have to wait for someone to rescue us. (frustrated) Ugh, I’m so bored. You know, I’ve been here for weeks and no one has come to save me.

The crab clicks his claws.

FINN: Oh, you’re so right, Mr. Crabby. I’m not alone. I have you, my dear friend.

Mr. Crabby makes his distinctive clicking sound again.

FINN: What do you mean? You’re not tired of me yet, are you? Hang on a sec, that’s a bottle coming back on a wave. Someone has responded already.

He fishes it out of the water and removes the cork.

FINN: (reading) “We found your message. Can you please be more specific?” What do they mean? I told them I was stranded on a desert island somewhere in the Pacific. What more do they need?

Mr. Crabby clicks his claws, as if suggesting something.

FINN: They want more location details, huh? (reading while writing) “The island is small, sandy, and surrounded by water. You can’t miss it!”

Mr. Crabby interjects with a click.

FINN: Yes, okay, Mr. Crabby. “And by the way, there’s a crab with me who likes to click his claws while giving good advice.”

Mr. Crabby clicks his claws again.

FINN: Even more details than that? Crikey! “The sand is yellow, and the water is blue. I haven’t had a shower in weeks, my clothes are torn, and I’m starting to talk to a crab.”

The bottle is corked and thrown back into the ocean.

FINN: There! That should do it. What do you think, Mr. Crabby? Will we finally be rescued?

The crab remains silent.

FINN: Fine, I guess we’ll just have to wait and see. Hang on, what’s that! It’s another bottle. They really are quick, aren’t they!

The bottle is retrieved and uncorked.

FINN: (reading) “We’re sorry, but we still can’t find you. Any more information?”

FINN: What could they possibly want to know now? Do you have any ideas? (the crab clicks) Oh, I know! (reading and writing) “I like long walks on the beach, piña coladas, and getting caught in the rain.” (aside) This is getting ridiculous. (writing) “I’m the only person on the island, wearing a red shirt and blue shorts.” How could they miss me, Mr. Crabby?

Finn puts the cork in the bottle and tosses it back into the ocean.

FINN: (to the crab) You’re not going to judge me, right? (the crab clicks its claws) Okay. I didn’t tell them that you are my only friend. Or how you like to listen to me talk about my problems. Hang on… another bottle!

FINN: (reading) “We received your message. Can you tell us more about the crab?”

FINN: I can’t believe this! Do you know what this means? (the crab clicks his claws) Yes, that’s right, we need to take a selfie! I’ll use my phone.

There is a phone click and a photo taken.

FINN: And now I’ll use my portable printer…

A printer prints their selfie.

FINN: …and put the photo of us into the bottle.

The bottle is tossed back into the ocean, again.

FINN: I wonder how long I’ll have to wait… oh, hang on, there’s a bottle now!

FINN: (reading) “We’re sorry, but we cannot help you at this time. Good luck! P.S. Have you tried using your phone to call for help?”

FINN: Oh my god! Why didn’t I think of that before? Mr. Crabby, why didn’t you say something? You’re fired! (the crab clicks its claws) Just kidding, buddy, you’re my best pal.

Finn dials and makes a call.

OPERATOR: “Hello, this is Pacific Island Rescue Service.”

Mr. Crabby continues to click his claws, unfazed by anything.

Dinner Date

NARRATOR: On an African savannah, a lion is lounging under a tree when a gazelle walks past.

GAZELLE: La la la, just a normal day on the savanna.

LION: (to himself) Wow, she's beautiful. The way her spots glisten in the sun, the way her ears perk up when she hears something. I think I'm in love.

LION: Um, hi there. I couldn't help but notice you walking by. I'm a lion.

GAZELLE: A lion? Oh no!

LION: I just have to say, it was love at first sight when I saw you.

GAZELLE: What? Love at first sight? But... you're a lion, and I'm a gazelle.

LION: Ah, details, details. Love knows no boundaries. How about dinner this evening? We could run around the savannah together, and maybe catch a sunset.

GAZELLE: Hmm, I guess that does sound kind of romantic.

NARRATOR: And so that evening the lion and the gazelle ran around and dodged stampedes together.

LION: (burps) Ah, that was a great date. We were meant to be together.

I Don’t ... But

INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

Two friends, Jake and George, are watching TV.

Jake: (eating cake) Hey, George, I don't mean to be rude, but have you put on some weight?

George: (surprised) Uh, what? That is kind of rude, Jake.

Jake: Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to be rude. But I just noticed you look a bit heavier than you used to be.

George: (mildly irritated) Yeah, thanks for noticing, Jake.

Jake: It's all part of getting older, I suppose. I don't mean to be rude, but have you thought about going on a diet?

Jake has a bulging mouth full of cake and the remnants on his chin.

George: (exasperated) Jake, you're literally being rude. And for your information, I'm already working on it, not that it matters.

Jake: (innocently) Oh, sorry again. I didn't mean to be rude. But I just thought I'd offer some helpful advice.

George: (sarcastically) What's next? You gonna tell me you don’t like my hair or something?

Jake: Hey, I don't mean to be rude but your hair looks terrible and you need a haircut by someone who knows what they are doing. (Jake is balding)

George: Will you stop saying, "I don't mean to be rude" but then mean to do it anyway. It doesn’t make sense.

Jake: (figuring it out) Okay, I do mean to be rude, you’re an idiot.

George: I do mean to get cross … 

Jake: Okay, okay, I didn’t mean anything by it. BUT…

George rolls his eyes in exasperation while Jake thinks what he wants to But about next.

Script Snippets: "Mr. Beepo-3000"

INT. DOCTOR’S SURGERY – DAY

A robot, clearly made of metal, is sitting on the examination table, and the doctor is standing next to him, looking puzzled.

DOCTOR: And how have you been feeling lately?

PATIENT: (in an obvious robot voice) I have been functioning within normal parameters, thank you for asking, doctor.

The doctor checks the patient’s pulse with a stethoscope. 

DOCTOR: Hmm, that’s odd. I can't seem to detect a heartbeat.

PATIENT: (beep) Is something wrong, doctor?

DOCTOR: (puzzled) Well, it seems your body is made of metals and wires instead of flesh and blood. (checks again)

PATIENT: (in denial) What? Of course not! I'm just a regular human being, like everyone else. (beep)

The doctor opens a control panel on the patient’s head. Wires fall outs. The doctor pokes about inside.

DOCTOR: (puzzled) It seems your body has circuit boards instead of organs and tissues.

The doctor ponders thoughtfully.

DOCTOR: I believe I might have some bad news for you, Mr. Beepo-3000.

PATIENT: What is it, doctor?

DOCTOR: I will need to run some further tests, but I think there might be a possibility that you are a robot.

There is silence as Mr. Beepo-3000 takes in the weight of the news.

PATIENT: (in disbelief) A robot? That's ridiculous! I’m clearly human. (beep)

DOCTOR: (trying to be gentle) I understand this may be difficult to accept, but the evidence is clear.

The patient starts beeping loudly.

DOCTOR: It’s not all bad news, Mr. Beepo-3000. You could get some upgrades, like wheels for legs? Or wings for arms?

The patient is intrigued.

PATIENT: I’ve always wanted wheels for legs.

DOCTOR: Well, there you go, you see.

PATIENT: Thank you, doctor. (beep)

Script Snippets: "Robo-Manager"

INT. OFFICE – DAY

A manager is talking to gathered employees.

MANAGER: We need to think outside the box. It’s time to raise the bar to the next level and leverage our synergies and core competencies to achieve our objectives. We need to take ownership of our goals because if you fail to plan, you plan to fail. So let’s make sure we’re all on the same page and hit the ground running to go the extra mile this quarter. 

Smoke starts coming out of the manager’s head. The employees look like they’ve seen it all before, apart from the new starter.

MANAGER: Let’s optimize our potential and maximize our impact. We need to be proactive, not reactive. So let’s give it 110%.

NEW STARTER: There’s smoke! Smoke’s coming out of your head.

MANAGER: Yes, but I am not a robot. I am a highly motivated management professional. We need to stay focused on our key performance indicators and exceed our targets.

The smoke is more severe.

MANAGER: Must motivate… must motivate… success is a journey…

The manager freezes; then after a pause returns back to life, more robotically.

MANAGER: Beep boop beep. Error. Malfunction detected. Robo-Manager will be sent back to the factory for repairs.

The manager walks out of the room like a robot. Everyone looks relieved that they can do some work.

Script Snippets: "Premium Complaints"

INT. RECEPTION – DAY

A customer walks into the reception of the Complaints Service Company.

RECEPTIONIST: Welcome to the Complaints Service Company, for people who love to complain. How may I assist you?

CUSTOMER: I would like to complain about something.

RECEPTIONIST: Of course, sir. What seems to be the problem?

CUSTOMER: Everything! My job, my family, my annoying neighbours, the weather, my car, my home, my health, my food, my hobbies, the unfairness of the world, politics, and my cat!

RECEPTIONIST: I see. Well, we offer a range of complaining services, from the basic package to our premium service. Which would you prefer?

CUSTOMER: I want the premium service. I want to complain about everything without any interruptions or limitations.

RECEPTIONIST: Excellent choice, sir.

CUSTOMER: Do you not offer an ultra-premium service?

RECEPTIONIST: I’m afraid not.

CUSTOMER: That’s just not good enough.

RECEPTIONIST: It’s the second door on the left. We hope you enjoy your stay.

CUSTOMER: Second door on the left! Why not the first?!

The receptionist shows the customer to the second door on the left, who is busy complaining.

RECEPTIONIST: This way please sir.

CUSTOMER: This way! Why not that way?

The customer walks through the door.

CUSTOMER: This is not acceptable.

The receptionist closes the door behind the customer and looks relieved.

Script Snippets: "A Squeaky Chair"

INT. OFFICE MEETING ROOM - DAY

Brian is sitting at a table. Kelsey walks in and Brian stands up to greet her.

KELSEY: Brian, it’s great to finally meet you in person, after all those online meetings.

BRIAN: It’s great to meet you too. (he farts loudly)

KELSEY: How are you doing today?

BRIAN: I’m doing fine, thank you. (he farts)

KELSEY: I’m really looking forward to crunching the numbers on the big data project.

BRIAN: Yes, me too. (farts) They both sit down at the table.

KELSEY: I know you’ve been working really hard on the projections for the next fiscal year.

BRIAN: (farts) Yes.

KELSEY: Sorry, but…

BRIAN: What?

KELSEY: Can you please stop making noises?

BRIAN: What noises? Oh, you mean my squeaky chair. Yes, it does that. (farts)

KELSEY: That’s not a squeaky chair.

BRIAN: Yes it is. (farts)

KELSEY: Brian, this room has a certain fragrance all of its own.

BRIAN: That would be the air conditioner. (farts)

KELSEY: Okay, tell me about the numbers, will you?

BRIAN: Well, I’ve got good news… (farts) and bad news. (silence)

KELSEY: Wait a minute, say that again.

BRIAN: I’ve got good news… (farts) and bad news. (silence)

She realises.

KELSEY: You break wind every time you lie, don’t you.

BRIAN (mortified) No, no, no! That's not true at all! (a very loud fart) Okay, okay, it’s true. I prefer online meetings because I can cancel out the noises.

KELSEY: I see. No, this is much better because now I know when you’re lying out of you bum.

BRIAN: Ugh, I hate this curse. I'll try to be more honest. (he farts)

Script Snippets: "First Time"

INT. HOSPITAL OPERATING ROOM

A patient is lying on the operating table, looking nervous. The surgeon enters the room.

SURGEON: (putting on surgical gloves) Good morning, Mr. Buckley! How are you feeling today?

PATIENT: (nervously) Oh, hi, doctor. I'm so nervous. This is my first operation. By the way…

The patient is interrupted by the surgeon.

SURGEON: (smiling) Don't worry, Mr. Buckley. It's my first operation too.

PATIENT: (suddenly alarmed) Wait, what? You're kidding, right?

SURGEON: (chuckles) Of course I am! I've performed hundreds of operations. Just not on people. 

PATIENT: (relieved) Oh, thank goodness. (realises) What?

SURGEON: (chuckles) Oh, just a joke to put you at ease. I think I’ve got a pretty good handle on the basics. I’ve watched plenty of videos on YouTube.

The patient looks worried.

SURGEON: (looks around the room) You know, Mr. Buckley, this is a pretty nice operating room. I've never been in this one before.

PATIENT: (confused) Really? You work here, don't you?

SURGEON: (laughing) Yes, I do. But I usually work in the basement. It's not as fancy down there. And they rarely let me out.

The surgeon picks up a scalpel, as if he doesn’t know what to do with it.

PATIENT: (starting to panic again) Wait, why are you making jokes? Shouldn't you be focused on the operation?

SURGEON: Oh, don't worry about that, Mr. Buckley. I've got this. I'm like a superhero with a scalpel. Nothing can stop me.

The surgeon swishes the scalpel through the air like a sabre.

PATIENT: (looks sceptical) I'm not so sure that's very reassuring.

SURGEON: Hey, relax, Mr. Buckley. It's not that big a deal. I mean, how hard can it be? It's just like taking apart a car engine, right?

The anaesthetist and nurse enter the room and brusquely prepare the patient, while the surgeon plays with his surgical instruments.

NURSE: (to the surgeon) Everything's ready.

SURGEON: Thank you. Now, let's get started. Pass me that wrench.

PATIENT: (in horror) Wrench!?

SURGEON: No wrench? (laughing nervously) Oh, right. Sorry about that. I guess I’m a bit nervous too.

The Surgeon picks up a saw, and wobbles it about as if he can’t control his shaking.

SURGEON: The thing is Mr. Buckley that if this doesn’t go well and I can’t put your bits and pieces back together again, they won’t let me out of the dark basement ever again. I CAN’T GO BACK THERE! Do you understand, Mr. Buckley?

The patient is shocked and nods.

PATIENT: By the way… my name isn’t Mr. Buckley.

SURGEON: Oh, don’t worry about that, Mr. Buckley.

The lights go off then come on again, with a red tint.

PATIENT: What? What happened?

SURGEON: Just a little power failure, Mr. Buckley, we get that now and again. Everything is usually fine.

The nurse hands the surgeon a large scalpel, the wrong way up. The surgeon is pleased when he works out which way up it should be and readies to make an incision.

PATIENT: Wait! Aren’t I supposed to be anaesthetised?

SURGEON: (asking the anaesthetist) Is that right?

ANAESTHETIST: Er, I think so. But I haven’t seen that YouTube video yet.

The surgeon takes out a big drill.

PATIENT: (panicking) Aaaahhh! Get me out of here!

SURGEON: Mr. Buckley, they say laughter is the best medicine, so I’m sure everything will be fine. 

The surgeon, anaesthetist, and nurse are too busy laughing maniacally as the patient runs away.