Skulls in the Closet

(A sixteenth century restaurant. Medieval music plays in the background as the King enjoys dinner with his fiancee.) Fiancee: Tell me about your last wife. King: Oh, you don't want to hear about that. Fiancee: I'd feel more secure going into this marriage with open eyes. King: (Sigh!) Very well. What do you want to know? Fiancee: What did you love about her? King: Her sister had eight male children. I need to father a boy to succeed me effectively as King. Fiancee: How did you meet? King: My wife introduced me to her. Fiancee: Your wife? You mean you were already married? King: Technically speaking, perhaps, but I've changed the laws to straighten that all out. Fiancee: I see. How did your earlier marriage end? King: Decapitation. Fiancee: (Aghast) And you still don't have a male heir... King: Yes, decapitation again. Waiter! Fiancee: (Terrified) And what would happen to me if I failed to bear you a son? King: (Patting her hand) There, there, dear, don't lose your head over it.
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© 2007, 2015. Scripts by David Skerkowski. All rights reserved.

To Independent Authors

I've been overlooking a very important group in this account: other independent authors like myself. Sorry about that. I get caught up in my struggle and forget about others who may share some of my experiences. I just wanted to tell you that you do not need to fear TV stars or rock stars when they steal your work. It doesn't matter how rich or important they are, you may stand up to them and call them out online without any fear of physical harm or unjust incarceration. If I can't do anything to improve your lot before I die, you will still have to face the disease of internet crime, but such adversity helps to strengthen your character and make you more fit to stand in front of a large crowd. Don't let your enemies or detractors suck you into silly arguments that detract from your work's appeal if you can avoid it. In my case, it is necessary because of the support that thousands of crimes with my copyrighted work has received from the corporate media, which has cast an evil spell on the public that can often only be broken by making direct, blunt references to stars and their crimes. Above all, if you think your work might be good enough to make money, do not post it on the internet until you have solicited it through copyright and trademark lawyers. When corporate media like our local weekly, the Georgia Straight, to whom I once sent unsolicited cartoons of my own creation, say that they are not responsible for what happens to unsolicited work, what they are really saying is that they reserve the right to be irresponsible. This publication published all of the handful of cartoons I sent them between 1996 and 1999 without adding my name to them. I hope you found this note helpful and inspiring.
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Petroleum Jelly

Hello. I'm Jack Thackery, president of Monster Oil, with a bold new way to help you economize. Since the success of food products like gummy bears, it has been known for some time that petroleum is edible. Up to now, the fuel value of such foods has gone to waste in the bodies of playing children. To offset this, we have introduced Petroleum Jelly, a delicious sandwich spread whose energy can be recovered through the recycling of human waste. Available in flavors like strawberry, raspberry, and black licorice, you won't taste the difference as you trick your body into believing it has been fed while saving up to twenty-five percent on your gasoline bill. Why not give it a try? Petroleum Jelly: get it while it lasts.
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Corporal Astonishment

I can't believe I need to correct the producers of Walter Cronkite's The 20th Century: War DVD. In the history notes you listed in your bonus feature, you referred to Hitler in World War One as 'a small lieutenant'. Hitler was not a lieutenant in World War One, he was a corporal. There's quite a difference in rank between a corporal and a lieutenant. A corporal like Hitler is more likely to be an uneducated rube, the kind of person who would dream up something as brainless as national socialism. (Nothing against the good corporals. My own dad was a private.) Funny how people take everything as the gospel truth from corporate broadcasters who are capable of such glaring mistakes.
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Corporate Coffee

I meant to post this yesterday but the library was closed for the holiday. (A kitchen. Father and son are seated at the table as mother serves breakfast. The boy takes a sip of his coffee and spits it out in disgust.) Father: Hey, don't waste that! Son: But it tastes terrible! Father: I'll be the judge of that. (He takes a sip and grimaces.) Marlene, what is this? Mother: Brand name. Father: Well, what happened to the Corporate Coffee? Mother: What's the difference? Father: You just brew up a pot of it and I'll explain it to you. (A few minutes later, mother serves a fresh pot. With a perverse smile, father holds the pot to his nose and sniffs deeply.) Father: Now do you smell that aroma? That's the kind of result that can only be achieved through genetic engineering. Go ahead and sip your coffee, son. Can you taste those chemical preservatives? Besides being more addictive than caffeine, they help to seal in quality. (The boy smiles with satisfaction as his father takes a sip.) Mmm, that's a full bodied cup of coffee if I ever had one. Can you guess the secret ingredient in Corporate Coffee that makes it extra robust, son? Son: Cocaine? Father: Nope. Good guess, though. In fact, each cup of Corporate Coffee contains precisely one drop of a horsewhipped plantation slave's blood. Son: Wow! Voice: Get what you pay for with Corporate Coffee. Brutal exploitation never tasted better.
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Denial

There's fulfillment, spared the greedy dawn That keeps falsehoods misleading on And enjoyment behind closed eyes When you can't get your hands on it otherwise You've got a lot you're reluctant to give out Building deep inside But at night the life you want to live out Pushes those floodgates wide This installment of a see-through show Brought by what you refuse to know For the moment, it will compromise To forestall your uncertainty's demise You like to guess what my hope's leaning onto Tag my every stride Through the mess that I've yet to fall into With my heart as my guide No deterrent from a doubtful source Only let freedom run its course If it weren't for the shallow sky There'd be only a drop left to vilify Casting illusion, putting on your best Never seen a monster so immaculately dressed See your would-be flatterers carefully waylaid Taken in by pleasing pose, fatally betrayed There's a payment at the other end Of hills too steep to condescend To the pavement are the last confined All the more determined to lag behind Who wants to gain from a grim expedition With the utmost ease Until the last of a meager volition Dissipates in the breeze? You won't be waiting to confer my bliss But intend to toss me down into the abyss Host of possibilities snatched from my control Undismayed, I chip away at your denial
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© 2015. Words and music by David Skerkowski. All rights reserved.

The Balogne Bulletin

Good afternoon. The popular outdoor Shakespeare Festival, Scribbler in the Sand, was crashed today by a large group of militant Baconites, who believe that William Shakespeare stole his plays from Sir Francis Bacon. Angry words were exchanged and the stage manager was challenged to a duel. The scene threatened to descend to utter confusion when the insurgents clashed with a large group of Drakites, who believe that Sir Francis Bacon owed money to Sir Francis Drake. It took a whole brigade of papal guards to get the situation under control. In business, the economy has ground to a standstill with no new areas of expansion to exploit. We've run out of ideas and may be forced to resort to crime to forestall a panic on Wall Street and keep posting profits. Economists say it could stay like this until the next war. And lastly, an internet survey reports that the cost of your cable bill does not adequately redeem itself. Well, I think we all know how to make up for that: stop blowing your money on frivolous luxuries like home internet service! And now a word from our sponsor...
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