(even if you aren't vegan)
Difference between revisions of "Wikihood/eps/jesus"
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'''GARFIELD:''' Well, that and Thanksgiving were the two times each year where both sides of my family used to come together and it was always a shitshow. | '''GARFIELD:''' Well, that and Thanksgiving were the two times each year where both sides of my family used to come together and it was always a shitshow. | ||
| − | ''{Cut to a flashback of Garfield as a kid, sitting in the middle seat of a large dinner table covered with an assortment of food, ranging from turkey and mash potatoes to eggplant stew and cornbread. Sitting next to him is his younger sister, who looks | + | ''{Cut to a flashback of Garfield as a kid, sitting in the middle seat of a large dinner table covered with an assortment of food, ranging from turkey and mash potatoes to eggplant stew and cornbread. Sitting next to him is his younger sister, who looks equally discomforted by the general goings-on. Opposite of him is a young Virgil, who smiles and waves. Around the table are his Latino relatives and his Anglo-Saxon relatives, all embroiled in a large and violent argument with each other over economics. Multiple voices are embroiled in loud, incomprehensible chatter. Garfield's mother, a Latino woman in a purple dress, smiles as she tries to ignore the fighting.}'' |
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'''GARFIELD'S MOM:''' Isn't this a lovely dinner? Abuelita helped me cook the turkey. | '''GARFIELD'S MOM:''' Isn't this a lovely dinner? Abuelita helped me cook the turkey. | ||
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''{Garfield puts his head down as more family members argue.}'' | ''{Garfield puts his head down as more family members argue.}'' | ||
| − | '''UNCLE ARTURO:''' I'm telling you now | + | '''UNCLE ARTURO:''' I'm telling you now, we ''did not escape Castro'' just to get Obama over here. Now- |
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''{Garfield's dad comes out of the kitchen, holding a freshly baked pumpkin pie. He looks timid.}'' | ''{Garfield's dad comes out of the kitchen, holding a freshly baked pumpkin pie. He looks timid.}'' | ||
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''{Cut back to the present day.}'' | ''{Cut back to the present day.}'' | ||
| − | '''GARFIELD:''' | + | '''GARFIELD:''' It would be nice to have a Christmas with people who don't incessantly argue about politics. |
Revision as of 22:32, 8 December 2018
{Open to Chaos sleeping in bed at studio apartment at 9:30AM. His alarm begins to buzz. Chaos grunts as he tries to ignore the alarm. The alarm switches to the radio. The sound of sleigh bells ring in the background as the radio announcer, sounding like Bruce Willis, begins to speak.}
RADIO ANNOUNCER: YIPPIE-KI-YAY, MOTHER HUBBARD. This is William Bruss, and you're listening to Hollywood Radio!
{Chaos groans.}
CHAOS: Why did I let Leigh choose my radio station for me? This is so gimmicky...
RADIO ANNOUNCER: You know what day it is? Why, it's the first of December! It's the time we say goodbye to the turkey, and hello to Santa Claus! Ho ho ho, I now have a machine gun!
{Chaos slams his fist on the alarm, stopping the radio broadcast.}
CHAOS: That wasn't even funny. That was completely forced. Ughh...
{Chaos gets out of bed, revealing that he's dressed in a tank top and pink buzzy pyjama bottoms. He shuffles over to the curtains and opens them, illuminating the entire apartment. As he looks outside, his eyes widen in horror.}
CHAOS: Oh gods, no.
{Pan over to reveal that the entirety of Townindale is covered in a thick blanket of snow. Colourful lights line the streets, Salvation Army workers stand on every street corner with donation boxes, and a massive Christmas tree has been erected in the lawn of City Hall.}
CHAOS: Oh frick no.
{Chaos' eyes widen further as he looks down. He quickly puts his hand on his mouth and takes it off.}
CHAOS: What the phooey?
{Chaos' facial expression turns into one of abject horror as he runs to the bathroom. He looks at the mirror and tries to swear.}
CHAOS: Fuuuuuuu... dge.
{Pause.}
CHAOS: Frack, fuddle-duddle, fiddlesticks, golly, gee, shinola, shucks... GOSH!!
{Chaos rushes out of the bathroom, breathing heavily.}
CHAOS: This is so bugged up.
{Chaos hears the doorbell ring. He walks over and opens it. Standing outside is Lex, Garfield, and Leigh, all dressed in ugly Christmas sweaters. Lex is wearing one with Bob Marley on the front, Garfield's appears to have been hand-knitted, and Leigh's has images of Gizmo and the Gremlins from the hit 80s movie.}
LEX, GARFIELD, AND LEIGH: Merry Christmas, Chaos!!
CHAOS: It's just gone December, what the heck is wrong with you people?
{The three let themselves into Chaos' apartment.}
CHAOS: {Sarcastically} Please, make yourselves at home.
{Lex flops onto Chaos' couch.}
LEX: Isn't it great, mon? Christmas is here!
CHAOS: Not for twenty-five goshdarn days!
LEIGH: But it's so fun! Why have one day of Christmas when you can have an entire month of it?
{Leigh and Lex high-five. Chaos turns to Garfield.}
CHAOS: You don't seem as enthusiastic as these two. What's your deal?
GARFIELD: I let them rope me into this. Christmas has rather negative connotations back in my household...
CHAOS: Oh yeah? What gives?
GARFIELD: Well, that and Thanksgiving were the two times each year where both sides of my family used to come together and it was always a shitshow.
{Cut to a flashback of Garfield as a kid, sitting in the middle seat of a large dinner table covered with an assortment of food, ranging from turkey and mash potatoes to eggplant stew and cornbread. Sitting next to him is his younger sister, who looks equally discomforted by the general goings-on. Opposite of him is a young Virgil, who smiles and waves. Around the table are his Latino relatives and his Anglo-Saxon relatives, all embroiled in a large and violent argument with each other over economics. Multiple voices are embroiled in loud, incomprehensible chatter. Garfield's mother, a Latino woman in a purple dress, smiles as she tries to ignore the fighting.}
GARFIELD'S MOM: Isn't this a lovely dinner? Abuelita helped me cook the turkey.
{Garfield puts his head down as more family members argue.}
UNCLE ARTURO: I'm telling you now, we did not escape Castro just to get Obama over here. Now-
{Garfield's dad comes out of the kitchen, holding a freshly baked pumpkin pie. He looks timid.}
GARFIELD'S DAD: Who's ready for dessert?
{Cut back to the present day.}
GARFIELD: It would be nice to have a Christmas with people who don't incessantly argue about politics.
