Bob Odenkirk - A Load of Hooey

PLACIDIO

Like what, then? What happens in it?

LUIS

Well, this kid slept with his mother, the

queen…

PLACIDIO

That’s Hamlet …

RAFALIO

Oh, yeah, and then this Dad-King killed

his sons…

PLACIDIO

Richard the Third …

CHARLIE

…then at the end, the sprite from the

Garden told them all the moral!

PLACIDIO

Well, that’s Midsummer Night’s Dream ,

man! You got it wrong—

LUIS

No, YOU got it wrong — it’s

Shakespeare’s greatest play: In the Park !

It’s what we want and we won’t settle for

anything less…right, guys?!

All the prisoners start pounding on their desks …

PRISONERS

In the Park…In the Park…In the Park!

The Director, scarier than the rest of the inmates, begins to back off — a riot is about to begin! Suddenly the door opens and a GUARD and WARDEN DANIELS enter .

WARDEN DANIELS

What the hell? Quiet down! All of you!

The Guard waves his gun and the prisoners quiet down .

WARDEN DANIELS (CONT’D)

The heck is going on in here, Placidio?

PLACIDIO

These motherfuckers, they can’t decide which

play they want to do for the next round.

LUIS

We did decide! We want to do

SHAKESPEARE IN THE PARK!

The prisoners cheer, but the Warden is skeptical, until —

ROBERT

Placidio said it was our choice and we

choose Shakespeare in the Park —what’s

wrong with that? I love that play, it’s

dear to me, it’s dear to all of us, it’s got

everything: romance, betrayal, fresh air,

sunlight! It’s the Bard’s most rewarding

entertainment yet!

Warden Daniels takes this in, then remembers he doesn’t give a shit .

WARDEN DANIELS

Oh…well, go ahead. It’s one of my

favorites.

The prisoners cheer and hug each other!

WARDEN DANIELS (CONT’D)

But I’m warning you! It’s not taking

place in some fake park here in the

prison; if we do it, we do it in a real

park, outside! Theater is already so

fakey, it makes me sick. I want to feel

something — you got me?! Make me see

eternity!

The prisoners nod…hell, yeah. As they celebrate, Placidio throws his hands up in the air — what has he wrought? And we hear the narrator answer his query …

NARRATOR (V.O.)

All of Cell Block Three escaped

during the first on-site rehearsal of the

production.

( beat )

But their understudies from Cell Block

Five went on in their place and made

theater history.

In case of fire, do not panic: the historic Dubonot Hotel, aka “The Piano Hotel,” built in 1914, will be fine. Over its storied history, the historic Dubonot—“The Hotel with a Player Piano in the Lobby”—has played host to more than 275 (reported) fires — and just look at it! Look around you! The old gal is fine. Some plaster is missing, sure, but we can replace that, and we will, we will. Basically, these kinds of things happen to this hotel all of the time.

Why so many fires? This is probably due to the fact that the historic “Dubonot: the Hotel with the Indefatigable Music Machine” was built directly over a little-known natural-gas fissure in San Francisco’s bedrock. One side effect of this constant seepage of natural gas is the delectable aroma of raw eggs wafting about every nook and cranny. In 1989, Chef Jeremy of Pierre’s, our in-house restaurant, decided to turn a negative into a positive and set out to make the best omelets in the city. He has succeeded spectacularly and is listed in the Guinness Book of World Records for “cracking the most eggs per year” and for “surviving the most kitchen fires of any chef, ever” (229 fires).

Built in 1916, the historic Dubonot is not, as rumor has it, “always” on fire. It is, more aptly put, “usually” on fire. Another word that springs to mind is oftentimes . Our “famous” lobby has had a continuously playing player piano since 1969, and only eighty-seven of the fires have ever burned it down completely. Seventy-eight fires were put out before making it to the lobby, one hundred and thirty-seven of our fires were kept to the basement level, and only fifty-six fires were determined enough to destroy the player piano itself. Mysteriously, one hundred and eighty-seven fires that were started by arson were started near or within the piano itself — as though in retribution for its never-ending merrymaking.

While a fire engulfs the Historic Dubonot Hotel, please avoid the elevators and use the stairs.

Everybody knows the story of how Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead.

Except you. You forgot. The details. The “deets.” Sheesh. Okay, here goes…

It seems Lazarus, the brother of Mary from Bethany, had fallen sick, deeply sick, in the way people living in the desert at that time did. This was only a short while after Jesus left town — he’d been there “teaching” and being worshipped. Laz’s sister had actually washed Jesus’ feet. Nice. Anyway, Jesus was on his general roving “mission” when his sixth sense got to tingling. He knew he had to return. But get this: by the time he got back, Lazarus had been in the tomb for four days, so he was good and dead. Now, that didn’t stop Jesus, who marched right into the tomb alone and came out with Lazarus right beside him, whistling and winking all the way. Okay, I’m not sure he was whistling and winking, but I’ll bet he felt like doing both. After all, Lazarus had been dead, and now he wasn’t. An “exponential qualitative change,” if ever there was such a thing.

So that’s the nutshell of it all, but hold up — this wasn’t the only time Jesus and Lazarus had a face-to-face. A few months later, they met again. Jesus was outside a temple trying to look inconspicuous, taking a break from messiah-ing, and Lazarus traveled for a day and three nights — one day he was sidetracked due to the heat, and finally he arrived at the J-man’s vicinity and ran right up to him, breathless, to thank him and ask a few questions…

I think it might have gone like this.

[ To be read aloud to yourself in the voice of Bob Newhart .]

Jesus! Hey, Jesus! Hi…hey…it’s me.

What do you mean you don’t remember me? You helped me.

No, I’m sure you DO help “a lot of people.” But I think you’ll remember me — I mean, you REALLY helped me.

I’m Lazarus! The dead guy! You made me alive again! Yeah, that Lazarus! Right. Yeah, so…I wanted to say “thank you” and…if you don’t mind, ask a question or two. Yeah? Okay, well. First, in case you’re wondering, I’m fine. Lovin’ life, TCB and all that — I mean, my foot fell asleep last week, and that gave me a scare, but I just shook it around and everything’s fine. ( chuckles )

Yeah, my question…well, my question is simply this: am I ever going to die?

I will. I’ll die… again ? Wow, you seem pretty sure — you spoke pretty quick there. Sure, I believe you, I just…I guess the follow-up to that, then, would be…where and when and…how will I die… again . [ awkward laugh ]

You know but won’t say? Yeah, I figured you might have that kind of rule. I guess you’d have everybody badgering you if you didn’t. Fair enough, but, uh…just one more thing, if I DO die again, I mean, WHEN I die a second time, will you be…stopping by to…bring me back from the dead again? Or, was that a onetime deal?