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All Written by= Me, everything= Me
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Published April 08, 2011

A sketch that takes place in 2014 or 2015, I was about to make it be in 2013 but I figured that would be too early or too soon. Basically it’s about all the worry and stress ( I wrote this before seeing the 2012 movie.) about the 2012 Mayan calendar that ends on December 21, 2012. Okay Americans, we have a yearly calendar that ends every year on December 31 at 11:59.59secs. Then oh my God, what happens another year ahead of us. The Mayans have what’s known as millennia calendar or some shit. On which theirs run every 2000yrs or so. So we are all in a scurry on what’s going to happen even though 2012 is just a year away (18 months.) So people have or will the necessary precaution and stock up on dry storage foods with long shelve life, water, toilet paper, batteries, radios, flash lights and guns yes guns.

So I was thinking right, like a what if scenario. “What if or when January 1, 2013 arrives (although I’ll say I am a little sceptical myself.) We all want to live, I just pray and believe we will. So you know how they have superstores that are clubs and shit like Sam’s and Costco’s. Some people make a joke or observation that people may cook or shop and have enough food to last them two or three years. “Damn Grandma you made all this food like you cooking for homeless people, you got enough to last a couple of years.” Bam!! A sketch was born, exactly what if someone prepared a little too much. Yes I’d rather be safe than sorry but I’m not trying to become a hoarders either ( I seen that show)

If someone did an episode of cribs or something like the Daily Show did with the Wisconsin or Michigan teacher salary hilarious. Or just a regular family dealing with the fact that they have over $4050.00 worth of survival gear and canned/dry storage foods. They had to build an additional bio hazard proof wing to the house. What if the majority of the town’s population had stocked up for 2-4yrs depending on paranoia. Stores and businesses would have to temporary close down due to lack of sales because nobody wants spend any fucking money and buy groceries when they have all that shit.

               

                Wife: Okay Robert, oh what was that you said?

Robert: I didn’t say anything.

Wife: Oh well it must’ve been me.

Robert: What?

Wife: Yeah I’ll say it.

Robert: Say what?

Wife: You know damn well what I’m talking about.

Robert: So…

Wife: So? Bitch it’s 2014, what the fuck is we suppose to do with all of this. Look at this shit okay, 20 loaves of vacuum all multi-grain bread.

Robert: What its carbohydrates.

Wife: Who are you, Jesus now?

Robert: Well I mean no, you can’t compare him to me because he’s up there and… in here and I’m down well, I’m right here.

Wife: What you breaking bread feeding the community, where the fish at?

Robert? Uh how can I, they got the same shit we do.

Wife: What about these cans  of soup, vegetables, macaroni and cheese. How the hells was we suppose to cook if we had no electricity ass. If I see another pack of Ramen Noodles, Oodles and Noodles hell, even Chicken Noodle soup I am going to punch you in your fucking trachea! Okay.

Robert: What, no you can’t, you can’t  just make up words Lisa. (Damn it I knew that was an intelligent nursing school.)

Wife: No, the trachea is a technical term, a vital organ that operates with your voice box and throat so that you can speak aloud.

Robert: You couldn’t just say that, that you were going to punch me in my throat. I mean that is very, very specific why the trachea?

Wife: Awe baby I’m sorry it was either that or choke you until you stopped breathing. Only a little but I didn’t want to mean or as you say North Korea crazy.

Robert: Hmm, did you just threaten me?

Wife: I sure did.

Robert: You’re coming along nicely, yeah we definitely need to stop watching T.V. together I think I’m starting to rub retarded on you.

Wife: Yes but what the fuck are we going to do? And, and need I remind you?

Robert: No please don’t, don’t, don’t remind me. (Puts right hand over eyes) You’re going to do it any ways aren’t you?

Wife: Uh yep, If you would’ve let us snack on some, some only a little for the last two years it wouldn’t be that much. Maybe ½ or a 3rd left. But nooo, we was gonna die, we was gonna sabotage the family. Even if we open only one, we could very well throw off the equilibrium of the world or disrupt the Earth's core. are you kidding me?

Robert: why you bringing up old shit, you got jokes huh. Wife: You did say that remember? ( in a sarcastic way) Don’t you remember saying that, huh?

Robert: psssh Barely.

Wife: Oh no, don’t remember (still sarcastic but condescending at this point) then let’s do a flashback shall we? Oh yeah it’ll be fun.

Robert: That’s okay.

Wife: No it’s not we’re going to do one.

Robert: No, no, no.

Wife: Yes, yes, yes.

Robert: See I don’t think we should.

Wife: Well Mister I have a photographic memory, I can remember everything about everyone else but when it comes to me I have S.L.D and shit. Robert: You asshole (The flashback happens to 2010 and that chime comes on.)

(Daughter comes down the stairs into the kitchen passes father at table watching and talking back to the T.V. she raid the fridge to see what she can find. She states she is hungry but doesn’t want to cook anything.)

Daughter: Okay dad I’m leaving now.

Robert: Cool I’m watching the thing with the lady selling stupid ass refrigerator magnets.

Daughter: Right, Okay, Okay well I’m leaving.

Robert: Yeah you already said that.

Daughter: Yes, yes I did and?

Robert: and what, get the hell out.

Daughter: Yes, yes  I will.

Robert: okay and they say I’m the retarded one in this family, I wonder how far or how dumb she is. It’s her mother’s fault. Or maybe the Marijuana. (So she exits the kitchen going straight down the hallway. Not the porch or the basement or even backyard. No left or right turn just straight down.)

Robert: I know she ain’t about to go fuck with that pantry , nigga we got food in here get your lazy ass up and cook we ain’t got no damn maid. That’s what I had kids for, to wait on me. Naw maybe not,  maybe she’s going somewhere else. (2 mins later his cell phone beeps, he gets this crazy message saying there’s a Hacker among the family nest. They must be extinguished/killed I mean stopped.) (He slowly backs out of the chair gets up and walk down the hallway.)

Robert: Now she could’ve come back here for any number of reasons any, well there’s only one fucking reason but I’m not going to jump to conclusions. Okay just wait and see, listen for the password. (sure enough 30secs later he stumbles upon his teenage daughter punching away at the keypad.)

Chelsea: Damn it what was that fucking code again. I know I remember, it’s that one song. Damn it, ugh don’t worry Twinkies you’ll be in here soon (rubbing her belly) Damn, why can’t I have a normal father? Crazy ass dad with his retarded ass plots and theories and shit, Ugh. Why is this so complicated, damn 60’s and 70’s T.V. themes with their catchy songs and weed filled subliminal messages.

Damn dad you weren’t even born in the 60’s or 70’s wait late 70’s, modern day T.V. sitcoms. What the fuck is the point of having kids if you’re not going to share with them and what the hell is the code? What is back here? He keeps this shit so secure, I’m not a terrorist daddy, I’m not a terrorist! I just want to counter strike this hunger attack in Afghana-my stomach. Son of a bitch.

Robert: Need some help?

Chelsea: Shit yeah this suma bitch won’t open.

Robert: Yeah it’s kind of tricky you gotta actually know the code that’s weird huh?

Chelsea: Ooooh shit (slowly turns around) Hey, da, hey man hey, look I wasn’t I.

Robert: (staples her mouth shut with his fingers as well as his own.) Shhh!

Chelsea: Okay, let me explain. Is this as bad as it looks?

Robert: Uh yeah and it sounded pretty bad too.

Chelsea: Okay, let me explain again.

Robert: Stop talking!

Chelsea: No you don’t understand dad this is a crisis okay a very severe threat okay I am in CODE RED in the United States of I’m hungry! The army has already been dispatched and I am an elite foot soldier.

Robert: What the hell are you talking about?

Chelsea: I don’t know dad I’m hungry okay and when that happens I start saying all kinds of shit you should know this.

Robert: Damn it you are my child. Look there’s a huge kitchen in there with a whole bunch food in there, over there (pushes her toward that direction)

Chelsea: Ugh but that stuff’s complicated and it takes way too long a time to prepare and shit besides Kathy’s on vacation.

Robert: Who the hells is Kathy?

Chelsea: Oh, we don’t, we don’t have maid?

Robert: No we do not have a fucking maid. You’ve been alive here this whole time have you seen any other persons of another nationality around?

Chelsea: Hmmm.

Robert: You really have to think about that one?

Chelsea: Oh, I was just thinking when Kathy comes back from her vacation we should give her a welcoming back party for all of her hard work she’s provided to us over the years.

              Robert: Did you not just hear me? We do not have a maid. Not one who is Mexican or European Swedish or whatever diverse culture you have in your mind.

Chelsea: So who’s been doing all of my laundry and cooking and sewing and house hold chores?

Robert: Me, your mother and your brother.

Chelsea. Oh so… why do we have Kathy then?

Robert: Oh my God, stop talking please. I swear that you're retarded you are your mothers child. Okay mine whatever.  Look, just stay the hells out of here okay. This ain’t no damn convenience store. This is our future okay 2012, I’m sorry but have you not been watching the news or listening. This is for us when shit goes down.

Chelsea: but dad all I was getting was just one.

Robert: That’s all it takes, just one! If you start now you’ll just keep coming back and back and back because I know you, trying to eat us out of house and home. I can’t support your munchies right now okay cut down on the wake and bake. Are you trying to sabotage your family? ( ding) are you trying t kill us huh, are you?

Chelsea: Uh uh, um..

Robert: Uh my ass. Do you want us to starve when we may or may not have to? Okay we may or may not need it, 50/50 chance. If you eat it now what about future us?

Chelsea: (saying weird) Uh, I thought about it.

Robert: No you didn’t, so you’re going to sit up here and tell me that you would let future you starve with less food because someone had a quote unquote “snack attack” Bullshit!!

Chelsea: Well dad if that happens I’ll let future me deal with it and remind myself that past me ate the bitch.

Robert: No

Chelsea: Please daddy?

Robert: No, off limits okay you’ll thank me later. Now come on fatty, you’re going to make daddy some breakfast.

Chelsea: But it’s 3:00 in the afternoon.

Robert: Yes but this took up most of my morning already.

Chelsea: Yeah but you woke up like around 1 ish.

Robert: Uh, what, so, what, get your ass in the kitchen and make me some bacon using the fat from your own back.

Chelsea: Dad!

Robert: Okay ok I’m just kidding but I’m seriously stay the hell away from the pantry and yes that is my Fort Knox okay. (back to present day)

Wife/Lisa: Hmm yeah, it does seem to ring a stupid little bell doesn’t it?

Robert: A little, damn that was a long ass flashback.

Lisa: Well gravity is a bitch.

Robert: What? What is wrong with you people?

Lisa: Well shit, just wanted to remind you who you’re married to.

Robert: How the fuck could I forget?

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