Bad day yesterday.  Was picked at work for a random drug screen and I failed the test.  How?  I missed the damn cup. 

I was in McDonald’s for breakfast and ordered the hotcakes and sausage.  Spilled some maple syrup on myself.  Went to the front counter and held up my sticky hands.  “Can I help you?” the male teenage employee behind the cash register asked me.  “Yes,” I said.  “Wash my hands.”  “Excuse me?” asked the employee.  Now his manager stood beside him.  “My hands are sticky,” I explained.  “Please wash my hands.”  “Why would I do that?” the employee asked.  I then pointed to a sign on the wall that read, “ALL EMPLOYEES MUST WASH HANDS.”  The manager looked at his employee and shrugged.  “He’s got ya,” he said.  “I’ll grab the soap and towel.”

My wife decided to take a nice, relaxing bath last night.  I poked my head in and said, “You know, I read somewhere that epsom salt in the bath is good for you.”  “Uh, thanks,” said my wife as I poured some in.  Two minutes later, I poked my head in and said, “It also said to put cucumber slices over your eyes.”  “Yeah, great,” said my wife as I placed the slices on her eyes.  Two minutes later, I poked my head in and said, “And it noted that Egyptians used milk in their baths for smooth skin” as I poured in some 2%.  “Oh,” I cried, “I forgot the oatmeal!”  My wife, extremely un-relaxed, cried out, “You sure that wasn’t an article about cannibalism?!?!”

Not only did I fail my drug test yesterday, I also got bad news from my doctor on my annual checkup.  “I have some bad news, Mr. Malarky,” he said.  “We have your test results.”  I felt my heart leap into my throat.  I figured maybe that was the problem.  First a frog, now my heart.  What did they find so attractive about my throat?  “What is it, doc?” I asked.  “is it serious?”  My doctor was examining the results.  “I’m afraid you have ‘natural causes’,” he said solemnly.  “My God,” I groaned, “my uncle died from that!!”

Sad, sad day in the neighborhood yesterday.  The morning began with hugs and tears as the McCloskeys waved goodbye, slammed the doors on their moving vans and drove off to their new home across state.  They’re good friends and have been great neighbors across the street for the past 10 years…we’re really going to miss them.

I told McCloskey as I shook his hand, “Boy, I hope the new neighbors are as friendly as you guys.”

“With neighbors like you,” said McCloskey, “they’ll know immediately how blessed they are.”  He then seemed to run into his car and burned rubber as he sped up the street.

I told Fran that I really wanted to welcome the new neighbors with open arms.  Fran said, “That’s nice, Flex.  But Debbie told me they’re not moving in for a week or so.  They’re getting the place painted first.”  Fran said they were a young couple, early 30s, with a baby girl.  They were stopping by today to make sure the place had been properly cleaned and to drop off a few things.

I decided to nominate myself, right then and there, as the head of the Neighborhood Welcoming Committee.

I knew McCloskey hadn’t changed his garage door code, so an hour later I picked up a case of Moosehead and made my way over.  I punched in the four digit code, the door went up, and I entered.  I walked into the family room and then the kitchen and placed the case of beer on the countertop next to where the McCloskey’s refrigerator had been.

I had brought a pen and piece of paper so I wrote, “Welcome, Neighbors!” and placed it on top of the case.  I turned to leave then thought, Hmmm…they won’t know who dropped this off.  So I added, “Your New Neighbors on Briar Road!”  Then I thought, Hmmm…let everyone else take credit for my good deed?  Barloni hasn’t lifted a finger in the neighborhood in 10 years!  Why should I include him on this?  And what about Higgins?  Cheap bastard always grimaces whenever he buys the one solo box of Girl Scout Cookies from my daughter.  Screw him!  And Gorman!  Stan Gorman!  Stupid jerk next door just always seems to be mowing whenever we have an outdoor party.  Antisocial psychopath!  The hell with all of them!

I got so mad I cracked open a beer as I added, “Specifically, Your New Neighbors Across the Street…the Malarkys!”  There.  I toasted myself and drank heartily as I read my note.  “Ha!” I yelled.  “These new neighbors are gonna friggin’ love us!”

Next thing I knew, I heard a scream.  My eyes fluttered open and I saw two people staring down at me.  It was a young man and woman, both maybe in their early 30s.  She was holding a baby girl.  They were all huge!  “Who the hell are you and what in God’s name are you doing in our house!” the man cried.

I looked around and took the picture in.  17, maybe 18, empty Moosehead bottles all over the countertop and kitchen floor.  I also happened to be on the kitchen floor…in horizontal fashion…which explained a lot.  My new neighbors were not giants.

She screamed again, he freaked and proceeded to toss me out of the house.  I then noticed that I had beer stains (God, I hope they were beer stains) all over my Aquaman Underoos and I nearly tripped on my Captain Picard slippers and Spider-Man cape as he threw me out into the garage.  “Whoa!” I slurred.  “You’re getting my Spider-Man cape dirty.”

“Spider-Man doesn’t wear a cape,” grunted my new neighbor.

So now I’m bummed cause I forgot that Spider-Man doesn’t wear a cape, that this guy doesn’t appreciate Aquaman and that I still had 6 or 7 beers left in that case.  “Who are you?” the man cried. 

“Gorman,” I said.  “Stan Gorman from across the street.”  My new neighbor then shoved me out of his garage.  As his door went down, I proceeded to vomit all over his driveway.

My first impression?  I’m not crazy about our new neighbors.  They seem very uptight.

CHAPTER THREE:  The Grade School Incident

            In 1934, when Paterno was 7 years old, an incident occurred at Brooklyn Preparatory School that would haunt many an individual to this day, but not Joe Paterno.

             “I was in second grade,” Paterno recalled.  “It was recess and I was outside, minding my own business, when my friend Jimmy Cockiavalli comes running up to me.  ‘Joey!’ he cried.  ‘Vinny Razulli is beating the crap out of Little Anthony!  He’s beating him up pretty bad.’  So I asked Jimmy what he wanted me to do about it.  ‘You’re the only kid Vinny’s afraid of!’ Jimmy cried.  ‘You can help Little Ant!  Hurry!  Vinny’s beating him up something awful!’  So I asked Jimmy why should I get involved?  What does this have to do with me?  Why should I stick my neck out for Little Anthony?”

            Paterno walked over to the crowd of his fellow classmates.  They had formed a circle around the two boys involved in the one-sided scuffle.  Indeed, big Vinny Razulli was wiping the concrete with Little Anthony’s face.  Immediately, Paterno’s classmates began to cheer when they saw that Joe had supposedly come to save Little Anthony.  Vinny Razulli turned to face Paterno and said, “Yeah, I’m kicking the crap out of Little Ant here!  This is between him and me.”

            Paterno shrugged and said, “We’ll see what the principal has to say about this.”  He walked off and told the principal what was transpiring in the school playground.

            Anthony DelPizzo, a.k.a. “Little Anthony” or “Little Ant” spent the next five days in the hospital.  Vinny Razulli, meanwhile, was suspended for three days for his actions.  He continued to bully Brooklyn Prep students, even after he graduated from the school.  Years later, Razulli, now a retired mobster boss, laughed about his days at Brooklyn Prep.  “Joe Paterno was the only kid I was afraid of,” he said.  “He could have easily kicked the crap out of me.  Probably would have sent me down a different path in life.  But once I saw that he didn’t like to get involved, didn’t like to get his hands dirty, well, I knew I had smooth sailing.”

            To this day many of Paterno’s Brooklyn Prep classmates wonder why Joe didn’t do anything to stop Razulli.  “I swear Joe was even standing there watching the day Razulli ripped my (CENSORED) off and shoved them up my (CENSORED),” Little Anthony DelPizzo said years later.  “I went to a Penn State game one time and I limped right up to Joe and I asked him why he didn’t do anything.  He said, ‘What do you mean?  I told the principal, didn’t I?’  Sure, Joe, I said.  You told the principal.  Good for you.  Hope you felt good about yourself as you walked away from his office.”

            “Joe Paterno then shrugged and walked away from me,” said Little Anthony.  “He was always good at doing that.”

Why do dairy products have a “sell by” date on their packaging?  Shouldn’t they have “eat by” or “drink by” dates?

If an apple a day keeps the doctor away, what do you need to eat for lawyers?

My doctor asked me how much I drink.  I told him 3 martinis before dinner.  He told me I should cut back to one and I agreed.  Now I need to buy a bigger martini glass.

I told my wife I was going on a diet.  She asked me what kind of diet.  I told her I was going to count calories.  She said that was a good idea…it wouldn’t leave me much time to eat.

If you don’t finish your fish dinner at a restaurant, should your server bring you a “kitty bag”?

I asked my doctor if he had any medicine that would remove hip bulges.  He said he did and that it would cost $500.  I asked him how soon would it start to work.  He said as soon as I removed $500 from my wallet.

My wife came home from the shrink the other day and told me she was totally funked out, that she needed to get rid of all the stress in her life.  I told her I’d help any way I could.  She said, “Great!  I’ll help ya pack!”

 I bought a talking scale the other day.  I stepped on it and nothing happened.  Figuring I bought a damaged scale, I stepped off of it so that I could take it back to the store.  That was when I heard it say, “We have lift off!!!”

I went to my shrink the other day and told her I couldn’t take this world anymore.  She said, “There there” and handed me a sheet of paper.  “A prescription?” I asked hopefully.  “A ticket to Neptune,” she replied.

I went to my lawyer the other day and told him I wanted to sue a fast food restaurant for making my son fat.  He asked for a picture of my son and I showed him.  He then asked me who I wanted to sue for making my son ugly.

My doctor told me he was going to send me to a broken leg specialist.  I told him my leg wasn’t broken.  He told me his leg specialist was his bill collector.

If the government decided to tax obese people…would it be correct to say that we are living off the fat of the land?

PRESIDENT BARACK OBAMA:  …and then after another round of golf I figure we can go sailing with the girls.

MICHELLE OBAMA:  Do you think it’s wise taking another vacation, Barack?  I mean, it’s been so soon…

OBAMA:  …since I announced we were bringing the troops home?

MICHELLE:  No, so soon since our last vacation.

OBAMA:  Honey, we’ve gone over this time and time again.  I can vacation between now and Christmas and I still won’t come close to George W. Bush’s vacation time in 2005.  Listen, how about if you decide which golf courses I should play?

*DING DONG!*

MICHELLE:  I’ll get it.

(She opens the door and we see a family of four.  The man is holding a toddler girl and the woman is holding hands with a little boy.  All are dressed shabbily.)

MICHELLE:  Barack, look!  We have trick-or-treaters! 

OBAMA:  How nice!  Are you dressed as a hobo family?

MAN:  Actually, we’re the middle class.

WOMAN:  My husband and I have been out of work for over a year.

BOY:  I told my mommy and daddy that you’d be able to help us, President Obama.

GIRL:  We’re hungry.

OBAMA (grabs a plastic pumpkin bowl filled with candy):  How about a Milky Way then?

MICHELLE:  Barack!

OBAMA:  A Kit-Kat?

MAN:  How about a job?

OBAMA:  Listen, I know times are hard.  I get it.  Every time I golfed on my multiple vacations this year I heard it from my caddies.  But I’m working hard to make things better for you.  I just got a bill passed that will help lower your mortgage!

WOMAN:  We lost our house last month.

MAN:  We need jobs, Mr. President.  We need you to stand up to John Boehner and the Republicans.

WOMAN:  We need you to stop touring the country and making speeches…

MAN:  We need you to get the Democrats and Republicans together and get some real work done!

(Pause.)

OBAMA:  Honey, these are the worst trick-or-treaters ever!

MICHELLE:  No, they’re not, dear. 

OBAMA:  What do you mean?

MICHELLE:  I was just informed that there are 5,000 “Occupy Wall Street” protesters headed up the driveway.

OBAMA:  Uh-oh.  We’re gonna need more Snickers.

GIRL:  Can I still have that Kit-Kat?

(ALL look at the little girl and laugh.  Freeze scene and roll end credits.  As credits are rolling, the little girl jumps out of her daddy’s arms and grabs the pumpkin bowl.  She runs off.  Her daddy sees this, looks around, and grabs Obama’s wallet out of his back pocket.  He takes the cash, drops the wallet, grabs his wife and son and runs off.  Obama and Michelle are left, frozen and smiling as the credits continue to roll and the scene fades to black.)

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

FINE:  Mr. Howard?

HOWARD:  Dr. Fine.

FINE:  Mr. Howard.  Come in, come in.  Ooh, nasty limp. 

HOWARD:  Yeah, I did some major damage on my last at-bat the other night.

FINE:  The one where you hit a ground ball, took one step, and collapsed?

HOWARD:  Yeah.  Ruptured my Achilles tendon.  It was nasty.  I’m telling ya, baseball’s a rough game.

FINE:  Mmm hmm.  Ruptured your Achilles tendon with a swing of the bat and a light jog towards first base.  Uh huh.  I think I just heard a collective snicker from millions of football, soccer, basketball, lacrosse, hockey, rugby, tennis and track and field players.

HOWARD:  What’s that?

FINE:  Nothing.  Put your crutches over there and lie down on the couch.  Hard to miss, unlike a baseball, huh?

HOWARD:  Huh?

FINE:  Nothing.  Just relax.  I want to try a little word association with you.  You’re here because you’re confused as to why you completely sucked against the Cardinals after your lone home run in game one.

HOWARD:  Yes.  That was a great home run.  I stood there and watched it before I ran around the bases.  I didn’t tear any tendons then.

FINE:  Good for you.  I can see why you’re paid $138 million.  Now listen.  I’m going to say a series of words and you tell me the first thing that comes to your mind.  Ready?  “Baseball.”

HOWARD:  Swing.

FINE:  Interesting.  So when you think of a baseball…

HOWARD:  The first thing I think about is swinging at it.  Swinging for the fences. 

FINE:  OK.  “Fastball.”

HOWARD:  Swing.

FINE:  Makes sense.  Now this should get interesting.  “Sinker.”

HOWARD:  Swing.

FINE:  “Outside and away.”

HOWARD:  Swing.

FINE:  “High and inside.”

HOWARD:  Swing.

FINE:  “Just take the pitch.”

HOWARD:  Swing.

FINE:  “The count is 3-0.  Do not swing.  Take the pitch the entire way.”

HOWARD:  Swing.

FINE:  “It is more important for you to get on base no matter what.  We can’t afford another worthless groundball to second base or another golf swing strikeout.  Take the pitch at 3-0 and for the love of Harry Kalas DO NOT SWING.”

HOWARD:  Swing.

FINE:  We have a problem here.

HOWARD:  Swing.

FINE:  We’re done, Mr. Howard.

HOWARD:  Swing.

FINE:  Uh-oh.

HOWARD:  Swing.

FINE:  Nurse Jenkins?  Get in here!

HOWARD:  Swing.

NURSE:  Mr. Howard?  Dr. Fine?  Mr. Howard!

HOWARD:  Swing.

NURSE:  It happened again?

HOWARD:  Yes.  You know the drill.  Get Rubén on the phone.  We’ll have to drag him out the back again…

At this point the tape ends…as abruptly as the Philadelphia Phillies’ 2011 season…

DOC:  Good morning, Coach!  Step right in.

REID (clears throat):  Mmm hmm.  I parked next to the handicap spot.  Locked my keys in the car.  Paid my $25 co-pay at the front desk.  Time’s yours.

DOC:  That’s cute, Coach.  Now if you’ll please put the donut on the table there.

REID:  And where should I put my breakfast sandwich?

DOC:  What sandwich?

(REID reaches into the front of his pants and pulls out a wad of grease-stained paper.)

DOC:  Oh…the cheesesteak you had shoved down the front of your pants.  You can place that next to the donut.

REID:  Tammy doesn’t let me eat these on Monday mornings. 

DOC:  Let’s move on.  Have a seat over here.  Now what seems to be the problem?

REID:  I’ve been sick for the past three weeks.  I know it’s not diet cause I haven’t been on a diet in years.

DOC:  Can you name me some symptoms?

REID:  (clears throat):  Well, there’s Homer…and Marge, Bart…OJ of course…

DOC:  Symptoms, Coach.  I said symptoms.

REID:  Short term memory loss.  Poor time management.  Blurred vision.  Spontaneous idiocy.  Lack of any sort of emotion…

DOC:  Interesting.  I was going to have my assistant come in here and give you some little pricks…

REID:  I already have some little pricks.  I call them my starting linebackers.

DOC:  I mean we were going to conduct a skin test.  We expose your skin to potential allergens to determine if you are allergic to them.  A small amount of the suspected allergen is introduced into your skin through a small puncture. If, within 15 minutes, you have a small spot of redness and swelling where the allergen was introduced, you are allergic to the substance.

REID (clears throat):  Control what you can control and don’t stress out about the other stuff.

 ONE HOUR LATER…

DOC:  Well, we’ve injected you with every kind of allergen we have here, Coach, and we haven’t seen any bumps or redness.

REID:  I didn’t do a good enough job and I’ll make sure I put myself in a better position next time.

DOC:  Uh, okay.  Listen, just sit here and watch some TV while I determine what the next step is.  No, put that donut down.  And give me that cheesesteak.  Look, they’re showing highlights of your game yesterday with San Francisco.  Tough loss.  I’m just going to…Coach?  Coach Reid?

(REID begins to break out in hives.  His face is turning red and blotchy.)

DOC:  Oh my God!  Nurse!  Get in here!  Coach Reid!  Are you okay? 

REID (clears throat):  I don’t know what happened.  I was watching Ronnie Brown running towards the goal line and I broke into a…that thing that happens when you exercise?

DOC:  A sweat?

REID:  Yeah.  But then Brown pitched the ball back and we fumbled and San Fran recovered and I felt all better.

DOC:  My God.

REID:  What?

DOC:  This is worse than I thought.  (DOC takes the TV remote and replays the last play.  As Ronnie Brown approaches the end zone, REID breaks out again.  But when Brown fumbles and the Eagles lose the ball, REID suddenly brightens and appears healthy.)

DOC:  Coach…you’re allergic to the end zone.  It all makes sense now.  Your sickness the past three weeks.  The three losses.  The only way you’ve been able to feel better is to call the most absolute moronic offensive plays ever in the history of professional football and make sure the Eagles never got close to the end zone.

REID:  I take full responsibility for that.

DOC:  Glad you’re feeling better.  Now what the hell am I going to prescribe for the millions of Eagles fans out there who are allergic to you?

DINA:  Well, the worst of the storm is over and I think we should all be counting our blessings that one of those trees in the backyard didn’t fall on the house!

SAL (pointing remote at the flat screen):  What the hell?

VITO:  Something…

CARLA:  Why isn’t anyone…

DINA:  Listen, everybody…

SAL:  What is wrong with this?

VITO:  Something’s not right with the Xbox.

CARLA:  …texting me back?

DINA:  LISTEN, EVERYBODY!  We lost power!  How many times do I have to say it?  Vito?  Get in here!  Carla!  Come in the living room.  Yes, gather round.

SAL:  Something’s wrong with this remote.  I just replaced the batteries.  Madonn’!

DINA:  Sal, stop it!  We lost power and we should feel very fortunate that nothing else happened.  We had no water in the basement, we had no trees fall on the house…

CARLA:  No one’s texting me back.

DINA:  Because your phone is dead, honey!  No electricity, therefore you’re not able to charge it!  Let’s use this opportunity to spend some quality family time together.

SAL:  Hey!  Who the hell are you?! 

DINA:  That’s your son…Vito.

SAL:  He’s blocking the TV!

VITO:  I’m your son, Dad!

SAL:  Yeah?  You know how to turn the TV on?

VITO:  If I did, I’d be playing Portal 2 on my Xbox right now on the family room TV.

CARLA:  I know no one’s texting me back because Debbie probably told all the other cheerleaders that I didn’t like Christy’s nose ring so they’re probably all ignoring me behind my back, like, this totally sucks!

SAL:  I’m missing the Phillies game.

DINA:  Phillies were rained out, your phone is dead…we have no power!!!  Let’s sit here and have a family discussion.  Let’s try communicating with one another!  Remember that?  Think we can all talk with one another for once?

VITO:  I wonder if Josh has power at his house.  At least he has a Wii.

SAL:  You!  Yeah, you!

CARLA:  I’m your daughter, Dad.

SAL:  You got a TV in your room? 

CARLA:  Yes, but…

SAL:  Does it have a remote?

DINA:  This family is stunad.

CARLA:  I have to go to Christy’s house.  I need to tell her that I like her nose ring.

VITO:  I’m going to Josh’s.

SAL:  I can’t understand why this damn TV won’t work.

DINA:  Fine.  FINE!  Everyone act stupid!  We finally have an opportunity to sit here and actually carry on a real conversation where we’re not distracted by TV, computers, cell phones and video games!  But if you guys want to ignore me and carry on with your pathetic addictions to your soul-sucking electronic devices, go ahead!  See if I care!  I’ll be up in my bedroom!!!  (She storms off.)

CARLA:  What’s with her?

VITO:  Why is she so angry?

SAL:  Dunno.  You’d think she’d be in a good mood.

CARLA:  Why?

SAL:  Even with the loss of electricity, her favorite little device still works.  It runs on batteries!

The studio audience lets out a gasp then laughs and applauds.  Sal, Vito and Carla all laugh as they high five one another.  Freeze scene and roll end credits as cheesy 80’s sounding sitcom music is heard.

USA AND MEXICO FINALLY DECIDE TO SWITCH COUNTRIES!

AP-March 7, 2021

WASHINGTON, D.C.-After months of heated debates and negotiations, the governments of Mexico and the United States of America have officially decided yesterday to swap countries.

“It only makes sense,” said President Sanchez of the Unites States.  “For two years now, there have been more Mexicans living in the U.S. than in Mexico.  At the same time, more gringos have found their destiny by traveling over the Rio Grande.  So why not switch?” 

The 2020 census results show that the U.S. is now made up of 68% Mexican born illegal immigrants while the country of Mexico is now populated with 64% of American citizens who escaped the U.S. mainly because they can’t speak Spanish.

“It’s easier to swap countries and make this Mexico than to deal with all of that paperwork in making millions of illegal immigrants legal,” said President Sanchez as he puffed his cigar.

However, once the news leaked that the United States of America would now become Mexico and Mexico would become the new United States, millions of Mexican illegals suddenly flocked south to the borders of Arizona, New Mexico and Texas…

PHILADELPHIA EAGLES SIGN PLAXICO BURRESS

AP-July 29, 2011

PHILADELPHIA, PA-Eagles President Joe Banner announced today that the team has indeed signed former Steelers and Giants wide receiver, Plaxico Burress, to a one-year deal, only months after his 2-year prison term ended.  This comes two years after the Eagles signed former felon Michael Vick.

“One convict throwing to another,” Banner quipped as he puffed on his cigar.  “We figure we should be able to steal a few wins with that combo, huh?”

Banner also announced that a special booth would be installed in Lincoln Financial Field for the growing number of parole officers needed around the football team.

Coach Andy Reid joked that the new nickname for the team should be the “Jail” Birds and then he cleared his throat.

On an unrelated note, the front office also announced that Casey Anthony would be heading up the Eagles Cheerleading squad for 2011…

LADY GAGA IS A ROBOT!

AP-October 12, 2013

LOS ANGELES, CA-While performing her new hit single, My Mind is a Coffin, from her new album, Egg-cellent!, Lady Gaga’s left leg fell off.  As she reached down to pick it up, the audience screamed in horror as Gaga’s torso fell the floor, leaving a one legged stand on the stage.  Gaga’s torso immediately righted itself and commanded her band to play “Born This Way”, obviously a weak attempt at humor.  As audience members screamed and ran for the exits, Lady Gaga tried to calm everyone down by announcing that she was indeed a cyborg created by legendary pop star Madonna and some mad Bulgarian scientist who was “looking to have a bit of fun.”

THE WORLD DOES NOT END!

AP-December 22, 2012

NASHVILLE, TN-Well, it looks like the Mayans were wrong!  December 21, 2012 came and went and the world did not end.

“I’m mildly disappointed,” said former Vice-President and current blowhard Al Gore from the steps of his private jet.  “I thought by the world ending it would have taught everyone a lesson about carbon emissions.  We all need to drive smaller, more fuel efficient cars and we need to drive less or the world will really end!”

Gore then boarded his jet for a tour around the country, a tour that will have the jet use 80,000 gallons of fuel and carbon emissions reaching 3,000 tons of CO2. 

The tour is to warn Americans about lessening our combined carbon footprint.

Many international scientists agree that if Al Gore were to duct tape his mouth shut, that would save the world roughly 3,000 tons of CO2 emissions per day.

SOCIAL SECURITY RUNS OUT!

AP-May 10, 2015

 WASHINGTON, D.C.-President Obama today announced that money for social security has completely dried up.  “No more money,” the president shrugged as he puffed on his cigar.  “What can I tell ya?”  When asked where all the money went, Obama said, “Who knew that people would live well into their 90s, ya know?  There are just too many old people!  Plus, we never budgeted for all of the illegal Mexicans who also have their hands out for our benefits.  God, I swear it would be easier if we just switched countries!”

(SCENE:  We see OJ SIMPSON sitting at a table in a dimly lit, romantic restaurant.  He is dressed to the nines.  As he sips his wine, the camera cuts to CASEY ANTHONY who is sitting across the table, also decked out.  She looks lovingly into OJ’s eyes.)

OJ:  Some more wine, Casey?

CASEY:  Sure.  Thanks, OJ.

OJ:  I’m so glad I went online to eCarnage.  I never thought I’d find another love in my life.  Not after Nicole was so brutally murdered by someone other than me.

CASEY:  And I never thought I’d find true romance again after my daughter Caylee died after mysteriously vanishing for 31 days.  Still not sure how that happened, let me tell you!

OJ:  I was so sorry to hear about your daughter.  You must have been so distraught for those 31 days when you didn’t report your daughter missing.

CASEY:  I was.  My Mother’s Club was just about to nominate me for “Mother Of the Year” award when poof!  She goes missing and my parents start telling the police that the trunk of my car smells like decomposing flesh!  Duh, thanks Mom!

OJ:  Didn’t you say it was your nanny who kidnapped Caylee?

CASEY:  Yes, until everyone found out that I had no nanny.  Like that was somehow my fault!

OJ:  I know!  Sorta like in my case that everyone thought I killed my ex-wife!  I never killed a white woman in my life!  And helllllllllo?  The gloves didn’t fit!  Sheesh!

CASEY (chuckles):  You kill me.

OJ:  Not yet.

CASEY:  How’s your investigation going?

OJ:  Huh?

CASEY:  After you were found not guilty you stated you were going to spend the rest of your life tracking down Nicole’s murderer.  Any leads?

OJ:  Er, no.  But I…uh…feel like I’m pretty close.  Yeah.  Something should turn up soon.  Uh huh.  You gonna look for your daughter’s murderer?

CASEY:  Hey!  I wonder what specials they have here tonight?

(A WAITER enters.  He looks remarkably like Ron Goldman.)

WAITER:  Can I take your order, miss?

OJ:  You gotta problem, pal?

WAITER:  Excuse me?

OJ (brandishing a dangerous looking butterknife):  You looking at my white date?

WAITER:  Uh…I’ll give you two jailb…er…lovebirds a few more minutes.  (He exits.)

OJ:   Listen, why don’t we blow this joint?

CASEY:  I’d rather smoke it.  Ha, ha!

OJ:  Seriously.  Let’s get out of here.  (He begins to put on a pair of tight, black gloves.)

CASEY:  Sounds good to me. 

OJ:  And we, uh, take a ride in my car?

CASEY:  You sure you wouldn’t want to go in my car?  There’s something I’d like to show you in my trunk.

OJ:  If you look first.

CASEY:  Let’s paint the town red tonight!!  (Both tilt their heads back and laugh like hyenas.  Freeze scene.)

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