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

Dear Diary

9/13/09

Dear Diary,

Today marks a turning point in my life! I finally walked into Mr. Simmons’ office and told him exactly what I thought of him. I told him that I was tired of how he treated me, that I didn’t need this stupid job, and that I was going into business for myself. I also told him that I hoped a blue whale’s penis fell on him and crushed him to death. At that point I began trying to offer example scenarios where that might possibly happen. He was so shocked and intimidated that he just sat there the whole time with his mouth hanging open. Oh victory is indeed sweet!

I am SO excited to see what the future holds! I have been planning to open my own business for so long it almost feels like a dream that it is actually going to happen now! That's all for now, diary! I'll keep you updated. I gotta get working!

9/21/09

Dear Diary,

I feel kind of weird today. This afternoon I was told that my old boss Mr. Simmons was on vacation in the Bahamas and was helping a group of people trying to roll a beached blue whale back into the ocean. He was standing in a poorly chosen location and on one of the rolls the whale's penis flopped over and landed on top of him, killing him instantly. I can't help but feel like I am somewhat to blame for this in some cosmic way. But I'm not gonna let it get me down, I have too much to look forward to! I've been working like mad on my business and we're opening next week! I'll keep you posted on every detail!

10/2/09

Dear Diary,

            Well, we’re 6 days into this and I’m having my doubts about the business. We’ve already had over 4,000 dollars worth of damage and I’m being sued by 2 families. When I think about it, I’m not even really sure why I ever thought hot air balloon tours over an active volcano was such a good idea. The heat from the lava keeps melting the canvas of the balloons and the clients are sent crashing into the side of the mountain. The first time it happened we called 911 and I had one of my pilots ferry two medics up there in another balloon, not realizing at the time what had caused the accident. But their balloon melted too and they plummeted into the lava to their deaths. That was pretty awkward, because the whole thing had been caught on tape by a local news crew that came to do a fluff piece. As if that wasn’t bad enough, I was eating a hot dog and got mustard on my shirt! I mean, could this day get any worse?!

10/7/09

Dear Diary,

            I’m beginning to suspect my business partner Glen is out to ruin me. First, during the ribbon cutting ceremony when I pretended the huge scissors were too heavy and I chopped his tie off as a joke, he didn’t even laugh. He just glared at me, which made me look like a jerk in front of everyone. Then a few minutes later when I was pretending to play the harmonica with the scissors and sliced open my tongue he grabbed some nearby balloon canvas to try and help stop the bleeding! That material costs a lot of money! What is he trying to do, put me in the poor house?!

            It doesn’t stop there, he also turned down my idea to put up a statue of a whale’s penis out in front of the business in memory of the late Mr. Simmons. He asked me, “Why would you put up a statue of the thing that killed him? How is that honoring him?”

            “You don’t understand!” I shouted back, “You didn’t know him! You can really be insensitive sometimes, Glen!”

            To which he replied, “Why do you keep calling me Glen? You know my name is Robert! Where did you ever get ‘Glen’ from?"

            We argued back and forth for another 20 minutes, but Glen was adamant. He said this was intended to be a family-friendly business and the statue would turn away potential clients. Some business partner HE’S turning out to be, always looking for ways to make money, never thinking about how important this whale’s penis is to me. Wait, that came out wrong. Why didn’t I write this diary in pencil?

            I also suspect Glen may be reading my diary. From now on I will write my entries in code. The number 1 will be A, 2 will be B, 3 will be C, and so on. That’s all for now.

10/10/09

Dear Diary,

            I forgot the code. Ahh, screw it. I don’t even really care that much if Glen reads this or not. He has been an obstacle at every turn and it was a mistake to go into business with him. He wants to cut our losses and get out and honestly that’s fine with me. He doesn’t know what he’s missing out on, though. The balloon tours were just a launchpad; I have plans for multiple businesses. As soon as I can generate enough start-up money I’m starting a new business that will finally combine sailing with white-water rafting to try and corner both markets. We will give customers a 30 minute “Intro to Sailing” course and then send them down the rapids in an adventure they’ll remember forever! I was going to offer that Glen get on board with me for that too, but forget it. I’m through with him. I hope he falls down a laundry chute at the YMCA and suffocates under a mountain of sweaty jock straps.

       

10/14/09

Dear Diary,

            Another weird day. Glen died tragically this morning, and you’ll never guess how it happened.

Some Old Facebook Statuses

Andrew Michael is diametrically opposed to people who look for opportunities to show off their big vocabularies. It makes him feel vociferous

Andrew Michael realized his life was pretty sad when he got really excited about getting his turn signal fixed

Andrew Michael is going to name his first daughter Dawn. If he has a second daughter he'll name her Joy. If he has a third, he'll name her Febreeze

Andrew Michael wants you to punch him in the face if you ever see him attending the unveiling of the latest postage stamp, because something has gone horribly wrong in my life

Andrew Michael accidentally used the Victoria's Secret entrance to the mall today, accidentally dressed in only a trenchcoat. And he accidentally made the evening news

Andrew Michael stapled a bunch of fruit roll-ups together in an effort to make homemade edible underwear

Andrew Michael wonders if any kid in the Make A Wish foundation has ever tried wishing for a million more wishes

Andrew Michael is hoping one day he might sneeze so hard he actually knocks himself on his back. Believe in your dreams kids!

Andrew Michael successfully toasted a poptart with a blowtorch this morning. Unfortunately it tasted like propane

Andrew Michael is going to be rich as soon as he sells his invention of shotgun shells filled with angry hornets for police crowd control

Andrew Michael does not understand why the phrase "blunt force trauma to the scrotum" is such a conversation stopper at a baby shower. Don't be so uptight everyone!

Andrew Michael had a patient in the hospital who sneezed with his eyes open. He's been in a coma for six weeks

Andrew Michael is starting to think that VH1 airs more accumulated minutes of bleeping sounds than actual dialogue

Andrew Michael wonders if there's anyone in witness protection using my exact name

Andrew Michael wants his tombstone to read "here lies andrew michael: easy on the eyes, tough on crime"

Andrew Michael wishes there were more opportunities for him to use the phrase "you'll rue the day"

Andrew Michael feels like there used to be a bunch of movies where the villain tortured the hero using a voodoo doll. What happened to voodoo doll action?

Andrew Michael thinks it would be kinda funny to have a Chinese symbol tattoo that translates: "I have no idea what this says."

Andrew Michael is glad Regis and Kelly is live because then he knows that between 9 and 10 each morning Regis Philbin is definately not sneaking up on him

Andrew Michael thinks it would be interesting if all his ringtones could be the sound that particular person made when they were being tazered

Andrew Michael thinks it would be funny if someone went to a strip club and tried to put Coke rewards bottlecaps into the girls' waistbands instead of dollars

Regrets

I’d like to think that I have lived a fairly decent and respectable life. However, I do not deny that there are a number of things I have done in my life that I wish I had not, and I am regretful of it. The following is a short list of some of those incidents.

-I did a stint in the Secret Service and I was assigned to protect Senator Jim McAllister. During one of his speeches I became aware of a possible assassination attempt in progress. When I spotted the assailant in the crowd I shouted into my walkie-talkie, “The fox is in the chicken coop! The hobo is urinating in the garbage can! The Hamburgler has entered McDonald’s playplace!” In retrospect I think that I may have lost respect in the eyes of my coworkers as a result of those remarks.

-I was a part of a study in college that was testing to see if we could induce seizures through images playing on a screen. When we were finished with our prototype there was the question of where and how we could test it. I suggested we rent one of those video billboards on the side of the freeway. I wish I had not been so persuasive with this idea and I want to apologize to anyone who was injured in “The Great 127-car pileup of 2004”.

-For three straight years after 9/11 I became slightly obsessed with the phrase “...then the terrorists have won.” It got so bad that I was saying things like “If my lotto numbers don’t win tonight then the terrorists have won,” or, “If they put mayo on my sandwich after I SPECIFICALLY asked for no mayo, then the terrorists have won.” I wish I hadn’t done this so often, as it annoyed my loved ones a great deal.

-I regret having begun to mix cocaine in with my laundry detergent because I enjoyed the tingling feeling I got when I wore my freshly washed clothes. It proved to be quite expensive.

-In middle school I tried to fart in a time capsule that our class was putting together, in an effort to show future generations what flatulence from 1996 smelled like. I still think the idea had merit, but I regret my last second decision to take off my pants to do it, fearing that the fabric would mar the authenticity of the smell. I think this may have ruined my chances of dating Becky Martin.

-Certain business dealings caused me to venture into some seedy areas of town. In an effort to not come across as an easy target for thugs and low-lifes, I brainstormed ways I could dress so that I looked tough. I reasoned that an eyepatch looked pretty tough, but NO one was tougher than a guy who's eyepatch was an actual tarantula on an elastic band! It was about the time the creature laid it's eggs in my orbital socket that I realized this

had been a terrible idea. This is another choice I regret very much.

-I regret getting a tramp stamp tattoo that said "WHOOMP, there it is!" with an arrow pointing to my butt. Don't know what I was thinking there.

-I once mentally calculated an equation which would allow mankind to map and harness wormhole technology, but unfortunately I was a contestant on a Japanese gameshow at the time I thought of it, and just then I was attacked by a giant squid while the audience pointed and laughed at me. I regret both losing the gameshow and forgetting the wormhole equation.

-At a dinner party I once stated "The Unicorn is fifty times gayer than the Pegasus." Later that week I went to the library and did a little research and I found out that the Unicorn was actually only thirty-one times gayer than the Pegasus. I regret having misled the people at that dinner party.

            There are a number of others regrets I have, but just revisiting these incidents has filled me with shame and self-loathing. I will stop for now and maybe some other time, days from now, when I’m riding high, I will have the self confidence to continue this cathartic journey of sorrow. But for now I’m going to belittle my dog to make myself feel better. Thank you for listening.

Sound Effects

Matt Lauer: Welcome back to the Today Show! It is 8:35 on Tuesday and I’m here with the legendary sound effects master Charles Sweeney. Although you may have not heard his name, you’ve certainly heard his work. Charles has provided sound effects for over 250 movies and has even won two Oscars for his work in “Legends of the Fall” and “There Will Be Blood”. His latest movie is called “Two Peas in a Pod” and opens this Friday. Charles, thank you for joining us this morning.

Charles Sweeney: Thank you, Matt. It’s great to be here.

Matt: Now you’ve managed to capture some of the most life-like sound effects in Hollywood. Tell us, how do you do it?

Charles: Well I begin by watching the raw footage and then discussing with the director what kind of sounds I think may really take the scene to the next level, you know, make the viewer feel like he or she is right there. Then I go about capturing my sounds.

Matt: Let’s talk about the capturing for a moment; can you give us some examples of where you go to get these incredible sounds?

Charles: Absolutely. There’s a particularly gripping scene from “Jurassic Park” when the heavyset computer hacker gets sprayed with the poison spit from the Dilophosaurus.

Matt: Oh yes, I know exactly the scene you’re talking about!

Charles: Well to create the sound of the creature I took a regular housecat and put it in a shoebox and then I shook the shoebox very forcefully.

Matt: (momentarily stunned) …you…shake a cat inside of a shoebox?

Charles: Exactly. I give it four or five really good shakes. And the sound was what you heard in the film. It was a perfect fit.

Matt: (presses a finger to his earpiece) I’m…um.... we’ve….

Charles: Then you may remember the exciting fight sequence from the Matrix: Reloaded, where Neo is battling 100 Agent Smiths? Well to capture the whooshing sound of the metal pole he is using as a weapon, I hit a giraffe on the knees with a frying pan.

Matt: My God…

Charles: The key is to sneak up on the giraffe while it’s eating from a very tall tree. The difference between a startling hit versus a hit they see coming is easily discernible. But the surprised and pained cry of the giraffe provided the perfect sound capture for the metal pole.

Matt: Mr. Sweeney I must stop you—

Charles: Then there’s the torpedo sounds from Pearl Harbor. Do you know how I got those?

Matt: Please stop. (looking off camera) Can we go to commercial?

Charles: (ignoring matt) I dressed a raccoon in a diaper and a baby’s bonnet and then got a group of my friends to point and laugh at it very degradingly, to damage the raccoon’s self esteem. It made this moaning sound that was absolutely perfect for the scene!

Matt: (looking into the camera) We’ll be right back with—

Charles: (talking over Matt) Please keep in mind I don’t kill any of these animals. That’s barbaric! I just rough them up a bit. I give them something to think about when they go home, you know?

Matt: Mr. Sweeney, that is reprehensible. (motioning off camera) Can we get security here please?

Charles: There was this one time I planted some drugs on a squirrel and then ratted him out to the cops. When they were grilling him in the interrogation room he made this sound that we used in a scene in Jane Eyre. You just have to have an ear for this kind of thing. I think that—

(Two burly security guards appear on screen, and wrestle Charles Sweeney out of his chair and remove his microphone as he struggles angrily)

Matt: I want to apologize to our viewers, and remind you that the statements of our guest do not reflect those of us at the Today Show. 

Charles: (off camera) Don't act all high and mighty! Your ears are thanking me! Hey, you're hurting my elbow!

Matt: Please stay tuned after these words from Purina Dog Chow. (looking off camera) Well that seems a little ironic.

A Haunting

            Recently I was sitting in my living room watching a marathon of “Murder, She Wrote” on the Hallmark channel when I heard a strange moaning coming from another room. I put down my crocheting needles and went to investigate. When I got to the other room I could not find the source, but now it sounded like the moaning was coming from the room I had just left! There was only one logical conclusion: there was a ventriloquist in my house and he was being a real douche. I was just about to walk back into the living room when a cold chill ran down my spine. I spun on my heels and there, hovering in front of me was a ghost! She looked to be a little girl, no more than eight years old. She looked at me with eyes as black as oil and said "What has been done must be undone. WHAT HAS BEEN DONE MUST BE UN....what are you doing? Stop that!"
           While she was chanting I had begun spraying a can of air freshener at her, in the hopes that maybe it was simply an odor cloud that happened to be shaped like a ghost. But it seemed only to annoy her, so I put it down and stared uncomfortably at my shoes. She continued, "You have one day to right what has been wronged. If you do not, I will inflict a pain upon you such as nothing you've-"

"Did you just pee?" I asked.

"What?"

"Did you just pee on the floor?" I pointed to a puddle that had formed under her.

"FOOL! That is ectoplasm! Do not dare interrupt me aga-HEY!"

I had begun running a shop-vac while she was talking to clean up the puddle, and just out of curiosity I had pointed it at her, sucking her leg into the hose. I tried to apologize, but in a look of fury she dissipated into thin air.

The next morning I awoke, thinking surely it must have been a dream. But when I walked into the bathroom and saw 'Redrum' scrawled on the mirror in lipstick, I knew that not only was I dealing with an unoriginal ghost, but she had also found my secret lipstick drawer, which could prove embarrassing down the road.

I did some research and learned that over 50 years ago a little girl had lived in my house and had died of polio. Why was she haunting me? Did she have unfinished business? I was so confused and dismayed that I ate a whole can of Pringles and took a nap.

I woke up hours later to see the little girl hovering above me.

"You!!" she said, "you have been sleeping?! You were warned!!" With that, she plunged her ghostly hand into my stomach and began yanking out my intestines. I howled in pain as she proceeded to wrap my intestines around my neck and choke me out with them. It occurred to me, in between periods of unconsciousness, that this girl must have watched some really messed R-rated movies or something, because where did she come up with this gory stuff?! It was seriously twisted. When I was seven I would never have thought to strangle a guy with his own intestines, I mean seriously.

It was then that I realized that she had been talking to me this entire time, shouting instructions. I managed to blurt out between chokings that I had been daydreaming and could she please repeat what she said, but she howled in rage and her hair burst into orange and red flames. At this point I did something I regret, which was I laughed a little bit, because her fire-hair was totally clashing with her outfit. I also wish I hadn’t said “SOMEbody needs a makeover,” because I think that’s what caused her to shoot locusts out of her eyes.

I was mentally calculating if there was enough room left in the shop vac for all these locusts when I realized they had all flown out the door and were terrorizing all of my neighbors.

“This is what you get for your disobedience!” the ghost said to me, and I must admit, I felt pretty bad about the whole situation. I had never wanted for my neighbors to get hurt because of this. Except Jerry. He borrowed my hedge trimmers and never returned them, so I was kind of glad the locusts got him. The ghost turned back to me and said “You have ONE more day!” and then vanished into thin air.

I looked down at my stomach. My intestines were back inside me! It was as if they’d never been pulled out in the first place! Except that my shirt was covered in blood. Really?? C’mon! That was my favorite shirt!

I didn’t know what to do. I considered seeing if they were still showing “Murder, She Wrote,” but in the end decided I’d better clear up this whole haunting business. I Googled and Googled for what felt like a good ten minutes, but I could not find anything to help me figure out how this young girl had been wronged. I racked my brain, trying desperately to remember any of the instructions she had given. I vaguely recalled something about a dresser....she couldn't mean that old chest of drawers upstairs, could she?

I must have lost track of time, or gotten distracted watching a video of a cat playing the bagpipes on YouTube, because before I knew it, it was the next morning. I made my way up the stairs to the room with the dresser in it. But as I entered the door, the entire house began to quake. I was too late!

I checked my watch, but the only thing on my wrist was a post-it note which read "Buy Watch". I looked up and saw my dirty socks on the floor transform into poisonous snakes and begin to slither toward me! The toilet from the bathroom began to overflow with lava! Spiders poured out from the closet, each holding a tiny pistol in one of their many legs! My dog entered the room on the CEILING and proceeded to do that butt-wiping scootch move that dogs do.

I fell to my knees and cried out "You MONSTER!! That's never going to come out!!"

A disembodied voice roared "this is your last chance!! Make the switch!" I dashed over to the dresser and pulled open the only drawer which wasnt brimming with blood. Inside was a little dolly, the kind of dolly a little girl would carry around. I snatched it up and just as I did, a Heavenly light shone down onto an identical drawer right next to the one I had opened.

"Do it! DO IT!!" she screamed. The house shook, the snakes hissed, the dog wiped. Frantically I opened the other drawer and threw the doll inside. Everything stopped. The spiders with guns vanished, along with the lava and the snakes. My dog fell on it's head. All had seemed to return to normal.

The next few weeks I spent recalling my experience with that ghastly ghoul, and thinking about how the reason for her haunting seemed wildly disproportionate to all of the terror she inflicted. I mean she killed all of my neighbors, not to mention the poop stains on the ceiling, and all because her dolly was in the wrong drawer. There really should be a ghost governing body that sets a haunt limit for situations like this. And that is why I am submitting this formal request for a loan from your bank to help start my ghost police squad. I am confident you will find my proposal satisfactory and me explanation of the need for 41 million dollars to build "Poltergeist Penitentiary" quite reasonable. I have every confidence that my first four letters were lost in the mail and I am excited to hear back from you soon.

Sincerely,

Andrew