The Artful Dodger

Announcer: It's time for a new kind of tough guy. Someone suave. Someone sophisticated. But above all, someone spry. Bad Guy: Hold still! Damn, you're hard to hit! (He swings his fist and misses.) Mitchell: Oh yeah? How'd you like a taste of this china cabinet? (Mitchell ducks a punch, letting the bad guy's fist crash into a china cabinet.) Announcer: Any cop can throw a punch. But how many of them know how to dodge one? Mitchell: I'm Malcolm Mitchell, and if you run into me, you better hope I'm not standing in front of a china cabinet, a twentieth floor window, or even just a brick wall. Announcer: Malcolm Mitchell is... (Mitchell stands with his back to a busy auto route. A bad guy winds up to hit him, but Mitchell dodges the punch, sending the bad guy into the path of a moving transport vehicle.) Announcer: ...the Artful Dodger. Premiering tonight exclusively on this network.
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© 2007, 2012. Scripts by David Skerkowski. All rights reserved.

The Girls of Nightcast

With the growing popularity of name calling and dirty prank pulling, some are questioning whether the media is fostering a new trend in meanness. We turn the question over to our very own Doberman gang, the girls of Nightcast. Take it away, girls. Girl 1: Am I supposed to thank you for that? Anyway, why don't you people all get a life? Why do you need me? (tapping a load of papers) Today an old lady got in the way of a speeding hit-and-run taxi. The driver probably had somewhere important to go, like a network studio for a news broadcast. Also today, a child on a bicycle was struck by a hit-and-run taxi. What was a bicycle doing on the highway? And now it's time for the entertainment report by a different girl. Girl 2: Marcy Mason's genital warts are said to be worsening. The star refuses any comment on the subject, saying that she finds it unbearably humiliating. And on the poll over Jenny Bloom's breast surgery, only twenty-two percent of you voted 'real', against seventy-seven percent who voted 'fake'. Yet another girl has your sports report. Girl 3: Today in football, the Green Valley Buffaloes were absolutely slaughtered by the Oklahoma Settlers. The Green Valley team looked like confused children against the Oklahoma juggernaut...
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The Wrong Guy

Announcer: Tonight on Part XIX of the award winning miniseries, The Wrong Guy, Glen faces barriers to his love life after his name has been cleared of sex crimes. (A restaurant.) Waiter: And how may I be of service to the charming couple? Glen's Date: We're not a couple. (Glen glares at her as he makes a selection from the menu for the waiter. Exit waiter.) Glen: What was that for? Glen's Date: (Reaching across the table and taking his hands) I'm sorry, Glen. But they had me thinking of you as such a beast for such a long time! I mean, remember the letter you sent me? I used that to blow my nose. And remember all the poems you sent me? I brought them to the bathroom with me. And - Glen: Stop! I get it. You need more time. Glen's Date: Thank you for being so understanding. (Silence. He smiles at her and she spits on him.) Glen: Hey! Glen's Date: What? Glen: You spit on me! Glen's Date: When? Glen: Just now! Glen's Date: (Reaching across the table and taking his hands) I'm sorry, Glen. I guess I do it automatically. Please be patient...
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Flights to Freedom

Hello. And welcome to Flights to Freedom. I'm your host, Jim Fisher. They paid a high price for their freedom, but it was worth it. Ava Meiner escaped the enemy by hiding in the sewers while leaving her child in the care of a friend. How was that for you, Ava? Meiner: Miserable. It was pitch dark all the time. There was no food and it smelled terrible. And that war took forever to end. Fisher: But it must have been worth it when you stepped out, once again, into the light of freedom. Meiner: Yes, it was. Fisher: I bet you'll never forget the smile on your child's face. Meiner: Actually I don't remember that. Fisher: You don't? Why don't you? Meiner: Because I went blind. Fisher: We'll be back right after this. Fisher: As a young airman, Dennis Pryce was shot down over enemy territory. He managed to survive three years of captivity in a POW camp before he finally escaped. How did you do it, Dennis? Pryce: The war ended. Fisher: Oh. Still, I'm sure our viewers would like to know how you endured those impossible conditions for such a long time. Pryce: Nothing to it, really. Just do whatever they say. Fisher: Do whatever they say? Pryce: That's right. If they want you to burn your country's flag, you do it. And if they want you to fetch a stick for them, you do it. And if they want to use you as a footstool, you let them. And if they want to use your mouth as an ashtray while they play cards, you- Fisher: Lieutenant! How could you admit to such humiliating and treasonous acts of cowardice on national television? Pryce: I don't know. By being brave? Fisher: Sometimes freedom forces us to make tough choices. Wes Matthews was a spy facing interrogation when he decided to swim for freedom through a shark infested moat. Wes, weren't you afraid of what the sharks would do to you? Matthews: Not really. After I saw what the interrogators did to the man before me, I was willing to take my chances with the sharks. Fisher: You lost your arm. Matthews: Yep. Fisher: But you gained your freedom. Matthews: I guess so. Fisher: Tell us about your arduous passage through the jungle. Matthews: Actually I bumped into a column of my own troops almost immediately. They were coming to liberate the camp. As soon as I left, I ended up going back. If I would have just stayed put for a few more minutes- Fisher: Thank you. That will be all for this edition of Flights to Freedom. I'm Jim Fisher. Good night.
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© 2007, 2012. Scripts by David Skerkowski. All rights reserved.

The Bigot

(A transit vehicle. A pretty passenger reads a book. Enter a man.) Man: Excuse me, miss? Woman: Yes? Man: Could we have intercourse? Woman: No. Man: Why not? Woman: Because I don't know you. Man: What do you mean? I'm right in front of you. This is me. Woman: We haven't had time to talk. Man: I don't want to talk to you. I want to sleep with you. Woman: Why should I sleep with you? Man: Because it would undo a wrong. I've been falsely accused of being gay. Imagine doing that to someone! Woman: Why should I care about your reputation? Man: (Frustrated) What are you? Some kind of lesbian? Hey, everyone! Look over here! She's lesbian!
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© 2007, 2012. Scripts by David Skerkowski. All rights reserved.

The Saydist

(A pretty girl is walking down a road when a man springs out from a hedge and points a gun at her.) Girl: Oh my God! Please don't hurt me! Saydist: If you don't want to get hurt, you're going to have to do something for me. Girl: (Whimpering) No. Not that. Please. Saydist: Yes! I want you to say 'I love you'. Girl: No! I'm still a virgin! Saydist: (Waving gun) Do it! Girl: All right. (Feebly) I… I l-love you. Now please let me go! Saydist: Oh no. We're not finished yet. Now I want you to say that I have beautiful eyes. Girl: I can't! They look like black holes! Saydist: You want a black hole in your head? Girl: No. Don't shoot. (Against her will) You have nice eyes. Saydist: Beautiful eyes! Girl: Beautiful eyes. Saydist: All as one sentence! Girl: You have beautiful eyes. Saydist: Now say both sentences together! Girl: Please let me go! I'll suck your cock. Saydist: Never mind that! Do as I say! (Hero passing by spots the assault and disarms the attacker. He points the gun at him.) Hero: Are you all right? Girl: I think so. Hero: Now, tough guy, say you're sorry. Saydist: No. Please. Don't make me say that...
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Phil and Howard

(A 1970's drop-in center.) Supervisor: These men don't get much chance for conversation. Why don't you go around and introduce yourself? Phil: All right. (He goes over to a table.) How are you today? Client: What do you want? Phil: I just thought you needed someone to talk to. Client: You think I'm needy? Phil: Don't give up. I'm sure you'll get a job one day. Client: Don't you recognize me, Phil? I'm your psychology professor from university. Phil: Mister Frank? Oh. Sorry for disturbing you. (He moves to another table and finds a man crying.) Having a bad day? Client: My wife left me. Phil: Well I'm sure another woman will come along. Client: Another Jacqueline Bisset? Phil: You were married to Jacqueline Bisset? Get outta here! (Enter a chauffeur.) Chauffeur: Sir, your car is waiting. (The crying man gets up and follows the driver to the exit. An astonished Phil moves on to the next table.) Phil: How are you feeling this morning? Client: Terrible. Phil: Well just hang in there. Client: I won't cheer up until I get paid for my hit song. Phil: You wrote a hit song? Which one? Client: Oh What a Beautiful Morning Phil: That sounds like an old one. Client: I've been waiting since it made the Hit Parade. Phil: Too bad. Say, who is that old man in the corner? Client: Oh, don't bother with him. Phil: Why? Client: He thinks he's Howard Hughes.
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Nightcast: September 22, 2012

Anchorman: Well, here on Nightcast, we've been accused of one-sidedness in our reporting, so today we'll be talking to some of those noisy protestors that are against the new golf course. James Tucker is at the site with the protestors, trying to talk some sense into them. Are you making any progress with that, Jim? (Tucker plants a tee and places a golf ball on it, then draws a club from his bag.) Tucker: Gentlemen, what's this about disturbing the peace of buried ancestors? We're not disturbing anyone's peace. Why, golf is the most tranquil sport on Earth. (He drives the ball.) Protestor: You take sacred land and use it for meaningless sport. Tucker: Meaningless? Well, I for one have a ball to look for. Shouldn't you be hunting for food or something? Protestor: There was a massacre here. A whole unit of cavalry was wiped out. They were commanded by a Colonel Jeremiah Tucker. Tucker: Granddaddy? That was just a myth. (He goes into the woods and out of view. He hears the thunder of hooves and native war cries closing in and his voice can still be heard.) What's that? Did you hear that? Protestor: I didn't hear anything. (Tucker screams for help, but his voice is covered by the violent sounds of an invisible massacre.)
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© 2007, 2012. Scripts by David Skerkowski. All rights reserved.

Remembrance of War

Tanner: Good evening. I'm Ted Tanner and welcome to Remembrance of War, where we hear from survivors of both sides of some of history's bloodiest battles. Sam Jarvis remembers where he was on Invasion Day. Tell us about it, Sam. Jarvis: What's to tell? It was awful. It'll give me nightmares for the rest of what's left of my life. Tanner: You lost two thirds of your company coming ashore. Jarvis: Mowed down by machine gun fire. Some of them were boys I grew up with. I watched them die in front of my eyes. Tanner: And Andy Green, you were there as well. How do you remember this event? Green: Well that was one of the battles we won, so I have fond memories of it. As I recall, a whole company of enemy troops came ashore and walked right out in front of our guns, so we opened fire. Tanner: Did you lose any close friends? Green: No, it was just me and my partner taking turns on the machine gun. We invented a game to see who could kill the most invaders. And we awarded extra points when they cried as they fell. (Laughing) They were just a like a bunch of stupid sitting ducks waiting to be annihilated - (Jarvis takes Green by the throat.) Tanner: Now, now. Calm down, men. The war is over and we're all friends. Of course, most of the deaths of that war were caused by bombing. Bobby Stevens was only ten years old when his house was bombed, killing his father. Tell us about it, Bobby. Stevens: I'll never forgive them. Ten years old, minding my own business when a bomb explodes, killing my father. Everything that went wrong with my life after that was because of that bomb. Tanner: And in the air that night on a bombing mission for his country was Horst Hoffman. Mister Hoffman, what was it like for you and your crew on that fateful night? Hoffman: Pretty good. It was the captain's birthday, and Arnold (short for 'Arnoldo'), a South American mercenary, played the accordion, whilst Boris Karlsberg invented a dance. Then someone brought out a birthday cake, but no one had any candles. So my buddy Jacques, whose father admired Napoleon, opened the hatch and said, 'You want candles? I'll give you candles!' (He starts laughing when Stevens takes him by the throat and shakes him.)
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© 2007, 2012. Scripts by David Skerkowski. All rights reserved.

The Conspiracist

Hi, I'm Terry Brown, and welcome to The Conspiracist. Today I'm visiting this Floridian Grave because of reports of it being used to hold weird ceremonies at night. And you know you're getting close to the truth when no one tells you anything. Well, just listen to what this employee of the cemetery doesn't want you to know. Brown: Who do these people worship? Molech? Abraxes? Cemetery Worker: What? Who? Brown: How long have you known about the Kennedys? Cemetery Worker: Excuse me. Who are you? Brown: (muttering) Cemetery Worker: What? I didn't hear you. Brown: I said that a traitor says 'What'! You heard it yourselves, folks! This man is a traitor!
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© 2007, 2012. Scripts by David Skerkowski. All rights reserved.

School of Hard Knocks

Announcer: Tonight on School of Hard Knocks... (A hooker stands smoking on a street corner when a sedan pulls over and a man and child get out.) Hooker: What can I do you for? Father: My daughter was caught smoking a cigarette and I was wondering if I could leave her with you for a while. Hooker: What for? Father: So she can see what she'd be like when she grows up if she smokes. Hooker: Sure. You got the money? (He pays the hooker. A black truck pulls up and leaves with the hooker and the girl as the father waits by his vehicle. Presently the truck returns and deposits his daughter white with horror. As it drives off the father shouts his thanks.) (A Corrections Facility.) Visitor: Bruce here has been disrupting his class. Could I leave him with you for a while?
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© 2007, 2012. Scripts by David Skerkowski. All rights reserved.

The Journeyman

(An eighteenth century marquis tries on clothes in front of the mirror.) Marquis: How do you like this one? Servant: (Singing) 'They seek him here, they seek him there...' Marquis: I asked you a question. Servant: (Continuing) 'He thinks he is a flower to be looked at...' Marquis: I say, are you calling me a ponce? That's an insult to my honour! (He draws his flintlock and shoots the servant.) Announcer: Tonight on The Journeyman, the Marquis shoots his manservant and must do his own grocery shopping. (A market. The marquis haggles with a merchant.) Marquis: I gave you seven duckets. Merchant: Yes, but it costs ten. Marquis: But there's seven on the counter. Merchant: That means you need three more. Didn't anyone ever teach you how to add? Marquis: I say, are you calling me a count? That's an insult to the title of a marquis! (He draws his flintlock...)
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The Animalympics

Evans: Good evening. I'm Bill Evans and welcome to The Animalympics. With a team of dolphins edging out the women's synchronized swimming team, humanity's hopes for a medal have been cut to a handful of events. One of them is sprinting, and I'm with Chase Weaver, who is about to run against the heavily favoured African cheetahs. Chase, I bet you're excited. Weaver: No, I'm terrified. Those cats look hungry. Evans: Well, we're all behind you. And now you'll probably want to get out there and warm up. Weaver: If it's all the same to you, I think I'll just stay right here where it's safe. Evans: I'm sure you're just having the last minute jitters. Boys! (Men come and drag Weaver where he doesn't want to go.) Evans: And in swimming, Clara Bell is standing poolside with an update. Over to you, Clara. Bell: Thanks, Bill. I'm with our last hope for a medal in the one hundred meters freestyle, Tommy Wong. Tommy, you're about to face off against five lampreys, four barracudas, and a manta ray. Why aren't you in your swimming trunks? The race will start any minute. Wong: I'm not going in there. I barely survived against that shark. I'm quitting while I'm ahead. Bell: Well, we're all behind you. (She pushes him into the water. Background music kicks in, muffling his cries for help.)
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© 2007, 2012. Scripts by David Skerkowski. All rights reserved.

Terrorism in Tinytown

(Engineer Ned plays on the floor with his train set. He raises his arm and pretends to pull on a steam whistle as children sit by and watch.) Ned: Whoo! Whoo! But the the little engine only made it halfway up the hill when there was an explosion. Terrorists. Child: What's an explosion? Ned: Remember what happened to the principal's car? But the explosion the little engine saw was much bigger and louder and sent flying nails everywhere, tearing people to shreds. Child: Does that hurt? Ned: Remember when you stepped on a nail? It feels like that all over your body. So the little engine had to turn around and look for a detour. It was only halfway up the other side of the hill when there was a another explosion. BOOM! Terrorists again! This time it was inside the train. Child: Did it shred all the people? Ned: No. This time it was a firebomb. It burned them all alive. Child: Does that hurt? Ned: Remember when you touched the heating coil? It feels like that all over your body. So that's why you should all be on the lookout for terrorists. if you see something suspicious in your class mate's lunch box, tell your teacher. Otherwise, you could end up like the little engine.
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© 2007, 2012. Scripts by David Skerkowski. All rights reserved.

The Young and the Weightless

Announcer: Tonight on The Young and the Weightless, Shona finds a boyfriend. (A space bar. An attractive woman sits at a table alone. She sees someone approaching. Enter a glowing transparent hologram.) Hologram: Excuse me, Miss? Shona: Just a minute. (She produces sunglasses and puts them on.) Yes? Hologram: Did you drop something? Shona: Yes. My earring fell under the table. I'll find it later. Hologram: Why don't you try looking for it now? Shona: All right. (She dives under the table and comes back up.) Hey! Here it is! Wow, you're my knight in shining armour! Hologram: Then you won't mind if I buy you a drink. (Later that night, lying in bed together.) Shona: This is so wrong. You're not even Lutheran. Hologram: That's why you love it, baby. Announcer: And can Page and Zyborg protect their son from racism? (A space kitchen.) Page: It's your fault! None of the other children have antennas! Zyborg: That's right! And they're going to waste here when we should be sending him to school on my planet!
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© 2007, 2012. Scripts by David Skerkowski. All rights reserved.

Boardroom

Announcer: This week on Boardroom. The chairman calls a meeting. Exec 1: This place is a mess. Chairman: That's why I called this emergency meeting. I can't get the cleaning staff to come in here and do their jobs. Exec 2: Did you pay them? Chairman: Of course not. Exec 3: That's a tough one. Exec 4: I wish we could get our lawyers working on it. Exec 3: Why can't we? Exec 4: We didn't pay them. Chairman: Say, why don't we discuss this over dinner? Exec 1: Good idea. Who's paying? It was on me last time.
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© 2007, 2012. Scripts by David Skerkowski. All rights reserved.

Soul Auction

Baker: Hi there! I'm Brad Baker. Welcome to Soul Auction, where we see how far people are willing to go for money. Our first contestant is an activist from Greenland, Pennsylvania, Randy Rhinestein. Randy, that was a very moving documentary that you did about the dolphins. Rhinestein: Thank you. Baker: Now, behind that curtain is a baby seal in a cage. For a hundred and fifty thousand dollars, I want you to take this club and… Baker: Up next is an FBI agent, Earl Masters. Mister Masters, I understand that you are proud of your clean record. Masters: As a cop, I think it's my responsibility to obey the law. Baker: (Lighting up a joint and puffing on it) Mmm. Good stuff. Masters: What's that? Contraband? It's against the law to smoke that. Baker: Oh, I'm not going to smoke it, Agent Masters. You are. Masters: No thanks. You're not turning me into a communist. Baker: Not even for a quarter of a million dollars? Masters: Would I have to inhale? Baker: Yes, deeply. And you'd have to hold it in your lungs as long as you can. Here. Let me show you. Baker: We're back, and the last contestant on 'the auction' tonight is a single mother with four children, Miss Shirley Parker. Tell us about your family, Shirl. Parker: Well, let me see. At five, Craig is my youngest. He plays the drums. Tina is six and plays the triangle. Shane is ten and plays the bass- Baker: Thank you. We get the picture. Miss Parker, you don't need all those children, do you? Parker: I wouldn't give up any of my children. Baker: Oh no? Not even for … a million dollars? Parker: Shane. (The boy is plucked from his seat and hauled away.) Please take care of him. Baker: Don't worry. He'll be receiving the best medical attention.
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© 2007, 2012. Scripts by David Skerkowski. All rights reserved.

A Thoughtful Snack

Announcer: Are you dumb? Increase your brain power with fish, the food that feeds your head. Fish travel in schools, which can save you a lot of education. And fish flesh is almost identical to brain tissue, making it the protein of choice for your brain cells. (A kitchen.) Mother: Are you ready for your test? Daughter: Ready to fail. Mother: I think it's time we put you on a fish diet, young lady. (The kitchen, the following week.) Mother: I told you it would work. Daughter: (Emaciated and ill) It sure did! And thanks to this mercury poisoning, I can stay slim and marry a millionaire! Thanks, mom. (They hug.) Announcer: Fish. A thoughtful snack. Brought to you by your local fish federation.
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© 2007, 2012. Scripts by David Skerkowski. All rights reserved.

The Socket

Tired of today's pocketless garments? Here's what you need, the socket! Just attach your socket to - you guessed it! - your sock! You'll have all the pocket space you need, and it won't bulk out in all the wrong places. Put a socket on your sock today. Here's how to order. (Next commercial.) Guess what everyone, bell bottoms are back! Come and get a pair at Rosedale Mall...
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© 2008?, 2012. Scripts by David Skerkowski. All rights reserved.

Pussy Willow

I was absolutely NOT thinking Amy Pohler in a miniskirt for this one. Announcer: Tonight on Monday Night at the Movies, she's a modern woman, fending for herself in a competitive world... (An office.) Employer: Miss Willow, I'm afraid you don't have any qualifications for this position. Willow: Why don't you hire me anyway? Employer: But you can't even type. Willow: (Sitting on his lap) I know how to take dictation. (They embrace and kiss as romantic music starts up in the background.) Announcer: She's a rebel who plays by her own rules... (A roadside. Miss Willow makes out with a police officer beside her pulled over vehicle.) Officer: You don't have to do this, you know. I already said I wouldn't give you the ticket. Willow: I know, but I'm a sucker for a man in uniform. (With a sweep of violins, she drops to her knees.) Announcer: She's the kind of gal you want on your team... (A locker room. Enter a football team at halftime.) Captain: All right, boys, now that we're ahead, all we need to do is focus on DE-fence. (In saunters Willow, dressed like a cheerleader.) Willow: Aw, come on, guys! With your record, you can afford to lose one little game, can't you? (She licks her lips provocatively. The players get the message and surround her as romantic music kicks in.) Announcer: She's Pussy Willow. Tonight on Monday Night at the Movies.
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Nightcast: September 15, 2012

The more I shared, the more they stole. Good evening and welcome to Nightcast. In for our regular staff through the broadcaster's strike, I'm Conrad Reese, this network's executive director. (Clearing his throat) Up first, this network has been slammed with a whopping 1.8 billion dollar lawsuit for countless copyright violations (slowing down) dating back to late 2007... What the Hell? Who put that in there? Are you crazy? Stick to the copy I gave you! Caviar prices continue to soar since a giant squid appeared in the Caspian Sea four days ago. Russian sailors are too afraid to collect the tasty specimens, and their leftover stock is limited to the top two percent of the market. That means I can still afford it, but it's peanut butter for the rest of you elite wannabes. America's newest millionaire is fifty-three-year-old Sheila Jackson, a cashier from Renford, Oklahoma. The sole winner of the National Lottery, she picked up a cheque today for over a two hundred million dollars. Congratulations, Sheila, and stay out of my neighbourhood. Yachting enthusiasts may soon be getting a tax break. Lobbyists have finally succeeded in getting the government to declare the sport a religion. Hail Neptune! Moving on to sports, the Oakland Roughriders were purchased today by Jeff Morton, inventor of the music pump, while the Philadelphia 69er's were bought by Samuel Whitehead, inventor of the dance machine. The two football teams will meet tomorrow in what promises to be the longest running performance since Cats. And in business, the DOW hit a four month low and the dollar continues to lose ground, but me and my buddies keep getting richer and richer. And that's the news. What? Did I miss something? A skyscraper collapsed killing over four thousand people? Did any of them own yachts? Well then, who cares? The job market's too crowded anyway. Good riddance. Tonight on Backtalk: image. Why is it so important? Is it fair to judge people by how they look, or should we be focusing on other things, like how much money they have? I've invited one of those bleeding heart activists that I hate to share his thoughts on the subject, so you can all see how fair and objective I can be. His name is Perry Green. Mister Green, what's wrong with judging someone by their appearance? For instance, I look at you, with your long hair and dungarees and I figure you probably smoke dope. Am I right? Wrong, Reese. I don't even drink. And that is a perfect example of how image-based thinking has gotten out of control. But isn't it our nature to pass judgement on others by how they look? The dark side of our nature. The side that needs to be suppressed. Then what's the solution? How do we escape our nature? Blindness. Blindness? What do you mean? I mean that if people were blind, they wouldn't be able to discriminate any more because they couldn't see. And as a bonus, music would improve immensely. I guess that makes sense. What method did you have in mind? Bright light? Eye gouging? No. It would be more efficient to poison the water supply. And now for the most important question of all. Would I have to give up my sight? Probably not. Only tap water drinkers would be affected. Well, Mister Green, I guess I had you wrong. Thank you for coming, and good luck with your plan. Thank you. And that's it for this week's edition of Nightcast. I'm Conrad Reese saying good night and get back to work.
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© 2007, 2012. Scripts by David Skerkowski. All rights reserved.

Morality Play: Faking the Grade

(A girl comes home from school.) Daughter: Hi, mom! Mother: Hi, dear. What are you so happy about today? Daughter: I got an 'A' in my ethics test. Mother: You did? That's wonderful! And I hardly ever see you study. Daughter: I didn't study. I cheated. Mother: You cheated! Well that's not very nice. Daughter: Aw c'mon, mom, everyone's doing it. You just wait until the end of the test and switch papers with one of the smart kids. Mother: You stole your grade from another student? That's horrible! Daughter: Only Theresa Benson. She dresses funny and everyone hates her. Mother: And that's why you feel so good? Because you cheated another person out of their grade? That poor girl! Bad grades follow a person all through life. What is wrong with you? Daughter: Mom, I don't know the first thing about ethics. When we have a test on cheating, she can steal my grade. (The phone rings. The mother picks it up. She receives what appears to be bad news and then hangs up.) Daughter: Who was that? Mother: Police. Daughter: What did they want? Mother: (Slow to answer) They're investigating the suicide of Theresa Benson. (The daughter puts her hands up to her mouth in horror.) Apparently, she's not used to getting your grades. Daughter: What have I done! (Breaking down into tears.) Mother: There! Why can't you feel like that all the time? Don't worry. It was just your father saying he'd be late coming home from work.
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