The Netherwork: Flush with Enthusiasm

The Netherwork: Flush with Enthusiasm
Their true evil must be a lot less funny to people now that everyone knows who wrote these scripts about them. I don't mind re-experiencing the laughs that first gave rise to these works, but consumers of my comedy would have had a lot more laughs by now if I didn't have to spend so much time recovering it.

(In a rustic cottage, a network executive concludes an intimate interview with a journalist.)

Journalist: I know that you broadcasters have been accused of being a bunch of elitist snobs, but now that you've invited me here and let me watch you split your own wood for the fireplace, I can see that those accusations were way out of line.

Executive: Well, I hope that your readers will soon share your revelation.

Journalist: Don't worry, they will. Mind if I use the bathroom before I go?

Executive: No, not at all. (Pointing) It's down the hall, first door on your left.

Journalist: Thank you. (He finds the door, opens it, and sees a person sitting on a chair next to the toilet. Covering his eyes, he apologizes and starts to close the door.)

Attendant: (Getting up) Please do come in! The seat is yours, sir. (He turns to find a saluting uniformed attendant, standing at full attention, with spools of toilet paper hung on the handle of a plunger, held over the shoulder like a rifle. Curious, he edges forward.) Please close the door. (Astonished, the journalist complies.)

Journalist: Who are you?

Attendant: I am your bathroom attendant. What will it be this morning, sir? One or Two? I do hope the latter. We have a new weave in from the Orient which I think would be to your liking. (He pulls off a spool with gloved hands and holds it out for examination. The journalist stares at him, stunned.) Oh, you're shy! There's no need for that, sir. It's just one of those jobs that gets done better by another hand than your own, that's all. Just be yourself, sir. You can let it all spill out in front of me, you can even let it spray out. That's what I'm here for. You can grunt and push and make faces, whatever it takes!

Journalist: That's all right. I don't need to use it anymore. (He turns to go when he is delayed.)

Attendant: I wouldn't do that. It's not a good idea to dismiss the call of nature. Why don't you wait? Would you care for a magazine? We have a complete selection. Or how about some music?

Journalist: I don't think so. (He heads for the exit.)

Attendant: (Aggressively) Wait! You're not giving me a chance! At least have a sniff of our potpourri. (He squirts a bit in the air and it seems to subdue the journalist.) There, you see? Now, let's go do this. (The journalist resumes course to the exit.) Sure, that's fine, you can take your time. There's no rush. (Exit journalist. The attendant sits back down in his chair. Outside, the journalist returns to the executive.)

Executive: So, thanks for promising to help us with our image among the plebeians.

Journalist: Who was that in there?

Executive: The attendant? A former journalist. (Brief silence gives the journalist time to process the information.)

Journalist: (Abject) Cheering football crowds coming right up.
  
More Scripts Statements Songs
© 2007, 2018. Scripts by David Skerkowski. All rights reserved.

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