RISA: Ok, we have time for just one morrrrre question....
Yes, the young man, oops I mean old woman, in the back?
JPA: Yes, hi Risa. Thank you. My question is this:
Now that pilot season is over, is it WRISTS first? Or CAROTID?
RISA: Next question? Anyone else?
Someone who can send out some positivity?
JPA: Yeah, me again. Can you give some feedback on my 1998
audition for the film "200 Cigarettes"?
You seemed to love it, at the time. And yet you offered the part
to Kate Hudson. Kate Hudson I tell you. Kate Hudson.
RISA: Ok, Security? Security?
RISA OK, you are all just wonderful....
Though, excuse me, the short, wizened, bald little man in the back....?
RISA At first I thought you were a lizard. I am not entirely sure why you are here.
You seem so much older than everyone in the class. Has any of this been helpful to you?
CMMDR I guess. I thought we'd spend more time on intransitive verbs
and stuff that I was thinking is good sometimes, like butter. Where's my phone?!
I like Sharon Gless!Are you taking me to an audition? I can be on Jake and the Fatman, no worries. I like to be on the TV..... (starts crying and is led away from room).
As a weeping CMMDR is led from the room)
RISA: Ok, WOW. ANYONE ELSE???
JPA: Yeah, hi. Me again.
RISA: uh huh.
JPA: Well, it's just. That guy? The guy who likes butter and Sharon Gless?
Who was just escorted out of the room?
JPA: It's just... He was my partner. For the mirror exercises.
JPA: So... there's that.
RISA: Ok, is there anyone else you can buddy up with?
RISA: Ok, can you just... Just use the wall?
JPA: Can I use the wall? For the mirror exercise?
RISA: For now.
JPA: Sss. Bbb -- Probably?
JPA: But I really can't do my "animal" from back here.
The carpet is totally covered in pretzel crumbs.
(shadowy figure slowly edges toward door...)
(as the shadowy figure continues to edge toward door, he slips, on the CMMDR's tears):ENSIGN (falling) AAAAGGGGH
Jesus Christ. You! (points to JPA) Get a mop!
That creepy little stooge left a goddamn lake of sadness.
Miss Bramon, what's that smell?
RISA (turning to look at the Ensign, sitting stupefied in a chair)
You see that man? (she points to the Ensign)
There but for the grace of God....
I have nothing.
It's not really a bad smell, it's more like...
I know. Metal. It's metallic, it's the high sharp scent of anxiety, failure and fatigue.
I know that smell well.
CMMDR (slinking back into room)
I had a rider vest for the group bake-off but the Lamictal became my gravy god,
and I was on Benson too, at the Department of Photo Vehicles-
(The whole room explodes as everyone runs out of ideas)