Witness Protection

Frank: Jim, can I speak with you for a second?

Jim: Sure, what’s up?

Frank: Well...*sighs* there’s no easy way to say this, but...Jim we’re going to have to let you go.

Jim: You’re firing me? Why??

Frank: Look Jim, I like you as a person, but...your job here is to provide new names for people and families that are forced to enter Witness Protection, and frankly you do terrible work.

Jim: I...I’m stunned. I thought I was doing a pretty good job.

Frank: Seriously? You seriously thought that? 15 of the 17 people you have assigned names to have been killed already.

Jim: Well, you know, I figured every new guy has a sort of grace period to get the hang of it.

Frank: Let’s look at some of the names you’ve assigned. Okay, here we have Eliot Johnson and you changed his name to Schmeliot Schmohnson. Really?

Jim: ...perhaps not my best work.

Frank: Here he have Joseph Hunter, and you gave him the name “Not Joseph Hunter.” In fact, it looks like you just drew a mustache on his driver’s license photo and wrote “not” in front of his name. Seriously, did you think that was acceptable?

Jim: I was hoping maybe I could get a mulligan on that one. It was a rough day, I hadn’t had my coffee...

Frank: Then of course there’s Kyle Thompson. You decided to give him the name of the person who was trying to kill him!

Jim: That one I can explain! I thought that if the killer found him and then realized they had the same name he'd have this sort of "Who am I? What does it all mean? Is this some kind of metaphor?" type of experience, and while he's standing there reaching enlightenment we could catch him! Or MAYBE he'd get confused and kill himself by mistake!

Frank: I wish I could double fire you right now.

Jim: You know what’s weird? They told me that at my last job too!

Frank: I just have to ask about one more. What happened with this guy, Hal Goodwin? You didn’t even change his name. He walked out of this department still named Hal Goodwin.

Jim: Well I thought to myself, “If the mafia knows Hal Goodwin has entered into Witness Protection, then what is the last name they would suspect him to have now? Hal Goodwin! It’s brilliant!!

Frank: He was shot driving out of our parking garage that same day when he showed his ID to the booth operator.

Jim: …I still stand behind that idea.

Frank: You’re fired. You have until 4 to clear out your office.

Jim: (smirks knowingly) Are you really sure you want to do that?

Frank: Oh I’m positive. Why wouldn’t I be?

Jim: Because while we’ve been talking I actually changed my name to your name. It would be like you’re firing yourself!

Frank: You can’t be serious. You pulled that stupid move again?

Frank 2: It’s all falling apart, Frank! Give it up! You don’t know who you are anymore! You’re asking yourself what it all means!

Frank: Okay now you have five minutes and then I’m going to call security.

Frank 2: And ask them to remove WHO? Frank? They’ll take us both away! Muahahahahaha! I win! You can’t fire me!

Frank: I don’t have time for this.

(A burly well-dressed Italian man enters)

Man: Excuse me, is one of you Frank Wilson?

Frank 2: (with a devious grin on his face) Why yes, in fact that I’M Frank Wilson. (stifles a chuckle)

(The man begins punching Frank 2 in the face over and over)

Man: You thought you could hide from Tommy Knuckles?? You thought Witness Protection would keep you safe?! Think AGAIN!!!

(As Frank 2 continues to be pummelled, Frank quietly backs out of the room)

END SCENE

The House of Parliament

To my esteemed colleagues in the British House of Parliament:

I write to you today with a heavy heart. It is with great sorrow that I announce that I am stepping down as Lord Speaker in the House of Parliament. 

            Why the reason for my sudden departure? Sadly I have been asked to resign by a group within our house, who are concerned that I have not been taking the position seriously enough. They said one indicator was that the fact that I only learned my official title last week, and had heretofore been referring to myself as “Head-Gavel-Banger-Guy” during sessions. I concede that this may have conveyed a lack of respect for the institution and I apologize for that. I tried to reason with them that I had now learned the proper title, but they cited other complaints as well.

            As I now see in retrospect, I suppose I can understand why my idea to begin holding an annual “Bring your Child to Work Day” was met with such harsh criticism. I still contend that the idea itself had promise, it’s just a shame that I hadn’t consulted a calendar of events before scheduling it. The fact that all of our children were present on “Death Sentencing Day” is something I sincerely wish I could take back. I have already taken steps to provide a child psychologist for those who think they may need her services.

            My detractors would like you to believe that the rumors are true, that whenever I was asked for my opinion in a discussion that I hadn’t been paying attention to, I would stand up and shout “Poppycock!” and start banging my gavel incessantly as a distraction technique. This is simply not true, my friends. The press wants to paint me as a buffoon because of the time I got confused and thought my powdered wig had to be continually re-powdered. No one told me that wasn’t necessary and I apologize that my powder cloud triggered Lord Henrickson’s asthma attack during sessions, but I do not agree this makes me a buffoon. They also say when I was totally lost in a conversation, I had a habit of trying to sound like I knew what was going on by slapping my desk and saying “Classic Parliament!” and then laughing a little too loudly. Excuse me for trying to adopt a catch phrase.

            I hate to sound like I’ve got sour grapes, but I must say that there are times when I have felt my fellow members of Parliament have not been there to support me. For instance, when I proposed a bill that all active members be required to smoke Parliament cigarettes and that albums of 70’s funk band Parliament be played continually in the background during session, I received zero supportive votes. In order to successfully run this country we must work as a team, gentlemen, and you guys left me out there swinging in the breeze.

            In conclusion I want to inform you that I will not be giving back my ceremonial robes, partially because of principal and partially because I was wearing them while running on the treadmill one day (I really like how the fabric breathes) and they got caught in a rotor and torn off my body. Despite our differences I wish you all the best in your careers and will continue to support you as best I can. If you’d like to reach me just look for the green ‘97 Yugo with one different colored door, as that is my current address.

Sincerely,

Theodore Harrison