Downey's "Classics" Presents: This note is a long OOOOOOOOH, CHEESEBURGERZ!

Apparently, the best way for a writer to make a name for himself today is to do various writing jobs that doubles as an advertisement for his blog until he is ready to write a novel, which pays more than a job writing for a magazine. Sure, the writer could just skip a step and write the novel right away, but that shit is difficult, and without something resembling a cultivated audience, it would arrive in bookstores to general apathy. And that's even if it makes it into stores.

So, the writer of this now frequently updated blog is trying to stay in the swing of blogging. This requires putting up a post a day. Rather than write something off the top of his head, though, he is burning "back catalogue", or material he wrote for classes that would get underappreciated, because he is tired on this day. Below is how I make fun of my own reactions to thing. Sort of. Enjoy.

"This note is a long OOOOOOOOH, CHEESEBURGERZ!"
by John Downey

(Enter John Downey carrying a stool. He is dressed in semi-formal attire, though he is missing a tie. He places the stool right next to the brick wall, which is barren except for the noteworthy door and the large neon sign that says "LIVE NUDES". John clears his throat.)

JOHN: Screw me once, shame on you. Screw me twice, and motherfucker, shit's going down in Chinatown.

(John whips out a clicker and a long retractable rod. He clicks the clicker once, and a light is projected onto the wall next to him.)

JOHN: The MCLA Dance Company.

(He clicks the clicker again, and the light shows a picture of a bunch of people wearing Dance Company T-shirts and smiles on their faces.)

JOHN: Looks like a good place to hang out, and to get your name out there to the community. But don't be fooled, because under the surface...runs something really bad.

(He clicks the clicker again, and the light shows a group photo of the current members of the E-Board.)

JOHN: The E-Board. I've had my differences with them in the past, but for the most part, I've agreed with the tough decisions that they have to make.

(He clicks again, and the same picture is shown, except with crudely drawn Hitler mustaches and devil horns drawn on them.)

JOHN: Until now.

(John looks as though he is about to pace around, but then realizes that he's still standing on a stool, so he just looks around, shrugs his shoulders, and continues talking.)

JOHN: Last Sunday night, I participated in the Dance Company audition process. Before it began in earnest, though, the auditioners, myself among them, were told to formally request the number of dances that we wish to be put in. I requested 3. I was put in only 1 dance. This is grounds for treason and MCLA deserves to be burned to the ground.

(door flies open)

JAY: WHERE DA G'S?!
JOHN: Jay! My older brother! What are you doing here?
JAY: Looking for the next girl that's gonna scream "OH JIMMY!", that's what. What are you doing here?
JOHN: I'm making a speech to my huddled masses.
JAY: Ummmmmm...there's nobody here.
JOHN: My audience is the Internet.
JAY: Urgh. Hold on.
(takes long puff from blunt)
JAY: Okay, assface, what's the problem this time?
JOHN: I got put in only once dance for Dance Company, when I wanted to get put into three dances. My solution is to inflict much physical and emotional harm onto the E-Board.
JAY: Okay, first off, fuckface, are you sure that it was the E-Board's decision as to who would end up in which dance?
JOHN: Actually, I'm pretty sure that they had very little to do with the casting. The choreographer for each dance selected which people he or she wanted for their dances.
JAY: So where does the E-Board come in?
JOHN: When I don't get put in 3 dances.
JAY: Shitface, maybe only one choreographer wanted you in their dance.
JOHN: So?
JAY: SO WHERE DOES THE E-BOARD COME IN?!
JOHN: It's evil. It's injust. It inconveniences me. Smells like E-Board to me.
JAY: "Inconveniences" you? By making you concentrate on only one dance this semester?
JOHN: Jay, look--
JAY: Shut up, cuntface. Get your fucking facts straight, and think about the importance of this semester's performance before you go back onto your dick-wagging celebration.
JOHN: You mean the fact that the MCLA Dance Company is going to perform at Mass MoCa, the largest museum for contemporary visual art and performing arts in the country?
JAY: Yeah. You think that maybe they don't want just the ones who are willing, but are also ABLE?
JOHN: Oh shit. You're starting to make sense.
JAY: Damn straight, cockface. Hell, I would imagine that some people wouldn't be put in any dances, period. Wouldn't surprise me one bit.
JOHN: But--
JAY: AND LOOK AT YOU! You're a white boy with two left feet! You should be thankful that they don't fire you out of a cannon during intermission! People might actually take pictures of you if they do that!
JOHN: Speak for yourself, pumpkinhead.
JAY: Speaking of which, what's the song you're going to be dancing to?
JOHN: Well, it's so cool, I'm not even going to tell you.
(pause)
JAY: Ba bah. Bwa bah ba, ba....
(takes long drag from blunt)
JAY: Much better. Look, be thankful for what you've got, and stop cursing out people for looking out for your best interests. And where's my fucking Thursday shirt?
JOHN: I don't know.
JAY: Ah, fuck it. I'm gonna go watch "Gilmore Girls" on DVD.
(exit Jay Downey)
JOHN: Well....ummm...
(long pause)
JOHN: JEFF HARDY FOR PRESIDENT!
(long pause)
(John gets off of stool, and picks it up.)
JOHN: Quaseem's going to want this back soon...
(exit John)