(a couple enter, strolling, lackadaisical and bored, they’ve just made a long drive up a steep mountainside, and they obviously have much better things to do)
ERNEST:
(yawning, lugging a monstrous medicine ball) Whoa, that was quite a drive! Can’t believe a drive up a mountain can be so, so, so, I don't know, I guess so STEEP…
GRACE:
(massaging her own neck and trying to shrug a kink out of her shoulders) You’re telling me. Seems like they could DO something about all those twisty turn-abouts and climbs, just level it all off somehow to make the drive a little more realistic. I mean come on! I am...POOPED!
ERNEST:
Right. I’m exhausted. I have absolutely NO idea why that spaceman Buzzbee wanted us to drive all the way up here today. And I WHY I have to lug this heavy piece of pigskin with me!
GRACE:
(rolling her eyes) WOW! I’ve never even seen a medicine ball before! Looks like a basketball on steroids! Well, I suppose this all has something to do with Buzzbee’s . . . um, uh, TRAINING. The nutcase.
ERNEST:
OH NO! That whacko’s not still thinking about going through with that crazy plan, is he?
GRACE:
Far as I know, he’s as weird as ever.
ERNEST:
Weird? You mean, like — from OUTER SPACE! That boy sure ain't no human like I've ever known.
GRACE:
(laughing, in robotic voice, doing a slight arm-snapping version of "The Robot") PLEASE TAKE ME TO YOUR LEADER!
ERNEST:
(laughing, pointing his finger like ET) Phone Home!
GRACE:
(laughing, mimicking ET, touching index finger to index finger with ERNEST) Ouuuuch!
ERNEST:
(laughing, doing radio voice) Houston? WE HAVE A PROBLEM!
(enter BUZZBEE, jogging up aisle in sweaty, sweaty, sweaty sweat clothes, a damp towel around his neck, flushed and exhausted, throwing shadowboxing punches as he comes)
GRACE:
(seeing Buzzbee) Uh oh, look Ernest! DANGER WILL ROBINSON! DANGER!!
ERNEST:
(catching sight of Buzzbee, as well) Uh-oh. Ok, just tone down on the spaceman stuff, ok? Well, maybe just a little.
GRACE:
(suppressing laughter) Well, yeah, he IS our FAVORITE alien, you know?
BUZZBEE:
(arriving, but never pausing, now jogging exhaustedly in place, breathing loudly) Great! (gasping) You both came! I appreciate it so much! (blows air out his mouth like a whale)
ERNEST:
So, like, why in the world did you want us to meet you up on the top of Mt. Everest?
GRACE:
(laughing) You’re not planning on filming a Mountain Dew commercial are you?
ERNEST:
(puffing, gasping, but never stopping, the boy is tireless, indomitable, indefatigable, all that good persistent stuff) No. I need you guys to help me train. I need you to coach me. Encourage me. Even RUN WITH ME! Hey, you guys will love it! You’ll get in great shape! (he keeps jogging in place, and checks his pulse against his watch)
GRACE:
(a little disgusted) Oh. Training? Um, you know, like, it IS Sunday. I was thinking of seeing a movie…
ERNEST:
(picking up on the idea) A MOVIE. Hey, that’s a great idea. We should ALL go and see a movie. I hear that new Angelina Jolie movie is really good…
GRACE:
Oh, I don’t think you need to be seeing all that cleavage!
ERNEST:
(drops medicine ball and it lands on Buzzbee’s foot) Oops! Sorry about that, Spaceman. Oops, I mean Buzzbee.
BUZZBEE:
OUCH! (grabs at sore foot, is his ankle broken?)
GRACE:
Oh boy. An injury. Looks like training is off! Why don’t you come to the movie with us? Hey, whattaya say? You need a break, Buzzbee old man. And to sweeten the deal, I'll buy the popcorn, with extra gooey buttery-flavored goop and all that!
BUZZBEE:
(determined, limping around in a circle on his now-bad ankle) Hey guys. I’m in training. This is serious biz.
ERNEST:
We can go out for drinks after the movie! Wouldn’t that be refreshing? I'll buy ya as many beers as your camel hump can hold, whattaya say, Buzzbee old man?
BUZZBEE:
(a little put out) Come on. Guys. Come on. I’M IN TRAINING! And you know that I don’t drink, okay? (does some shadowboxing)
ERNEST:
Well, ABOUT this training. You gotta cut it out, Buzzbee. It’s crazy. Doesn’t make ANY sense. You don’t stand a chance against Big Bubba Jumpkins.
(long, looooooong pause as BUZZBEE ceases all activity, he goes completely still, and he stares with tragic eyes at both ERNEST and GRACE, his shoulders droop, a bit of a gut sticks out where never was a gut before, and all in all, poor BUZZBEE looks completely defeated)
ERNEST:
(in a long, extremely snappy line of negative blather, ERNEST and GRACE supporting and overlapping each other shot after shot)
I mean, he’s YOUNGER than you—
GRACE:
—bigger!
ERNEST:
—stronger!
GRACE:
—MUCH MUCH smarter!
ERNEST:
—and in much better shape!
GRACE:
—better looking too, I mean he's positively dreamy, Big Bubba Jumpkins!
ERNEST:
(with bold strength, complete and utter professional knowledge) Come on Buzzbee, Big Bubba Jumpkins IS the champion.
GRACE:
(slowing way down, helpfully, oozing with concern and helpful motivational unction) — I mean, don’t get us wrong, Buzzbee. I mean you’ve made some great progress — you’ve slimmed down like crazy!
ERNEST:
Yeah, you couldn’t of even climbed a mountain before — every step you took would have shaken the ground so much that by the time you got halfway up there wouldn’t even be any mountain left! I mean fat is one thing, but you were like a walrus left alone in a cupcake factory!
(all this long while BUZZBEE stands dejected, utterly whipped, completely trounced, defeated, hopeless, forlorn, and lost, oh so lost)
GRACE:
And hey, think about it, you just ran 26 miles! And UP a mountain too. That’s quite an accomplishment all by itself! Why don’t you just take a break today. We can go to this guy’s place I know and have some barbecue . . . wouldn’t ya like to sink your teeth into some fat pork chops?
BUZZBEE:
(rolling his eyes, getting more exhausted from this than all the training) Okay.
(long beat of time while BUZZBEE takes a deep breath)
Listen, okay?
(long beat of time while BUZZBEE takes a deep breath)
(with determination, with bold steadfast stick-to-itiveness)
I AM (long pause) IN (much louder, with strength, with power) TRAINING. Get it? I'm in TRAINING. You think I’m going to eat that stuff when I’m in training? You think I'm going to drink when I'm in training? Laze around when the competition is at the gym 24/7?
ERNEST:
Look, Buzzbee. Here’s what it comes down to: this idea you have, of fighting for the championship? It’s crazy. You are going to get hurt. And if I help you train, it’s like I’m going to be helping you help yourself hurt yourself. No, it's more like, um, uh, like, you know, I'm helping BIG BUBBA JUMPKINS break you in half, and hey, I’m sorry, but you don’t stand a chance of winning, probably even surviving, okay, so I'm sorry, but I had to tell you the truth, Spaceman.
BUZZBEE:
But you see, I feel called to do this. I know it seems impossible. That the odds are against me. That there's no chance I can win. But I have to give it my best shot. I have to throw myself into this and do my best. I’m not worried about winning, or losing. I just want to fight the good fight.
ERNEST:
Yeah. Right. (gives a look to Grace and twirls his finger at his temple) I’ll tell ya what, if you show up at the movies, I’ll treat. I’ll buy your ticket AND your popcorn AND the biggest soda they got, I mean it's a barrel, we'll spend half our time in the restroom getting rid of all that soda! But other than that, I think it’s time for us to say good-bye. (begins to exit) I have a loooooong ride down the mountain. See ya, Buzzbee. (gives a look to Grace) And I’ll catch you...at the movies!
BUZZBEE:
(still jogging in place and shadowboxing, not slipping a fraction of an inch in his dedication) Will you help me, Grace? Please. I need some company. Some encouragement. I need someone to be with me through this, a little motivation, will it be you?
GRACE:
I’m sorry, Buzzbee. I think the way for me to be a real friend to you, is to keep open that invitation to the movies. Ernest was right. What you’re doing, what you’re planning — it just doesn’t make sense. I’m sorry. I admire your dedication, but I sure don’t understand it.
BUZZBEE:
Please. Come with me! We’ll make it a team effort!
GRACE:
Bye, Buzzbee.
(exits)
BUZZBEE:
(watches her go, sadly, and his jogging slowly winds down — again, he stands completely still, shoulders dropping a fraction, his face going long and depressed)
What IS the point to all this? Maybe they’re right. Maybe I should join them. I mean, don't I NEED a break?
(he slowly begins to move his knees, as if the first glimmer of jogging is about to happen)
Maybe I’ve been wrong all along.
(his shoulders straighten and go back and a smile begins to form and he tilts his face back to let the sun shine on him, and he smiles hugely, his face consumed by radiant happiness and purpose)
Nope! I don’t think so!
(he begins jogging in place fully, faster than ever before, and then to take his pulse with fingertips at throat while he looks at his watch — then he seizes up the medicine ball and tosses it up and catches it)
Well, it’s pretty much all downhill from here!
Next stop: Big Bubba Jumpkins!
(he begins jogging, and smiling, raises an arm like Rocky and dashes out, and as he jogs out he begins to hum or whistle the Rocky Theme, or some other recognizably inspirational ditty)
(exits)
__________________________________________
Completely free Christian scripts, sketches, mimes.
Always a parable. Storytelling making the difference.
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