Phil & Rosco Plan For the Day

Phil and his wife are asleep in bed.  The clock on the nightstand reads 3:47am.  Suddenly, Rosco, wearing Mickey Mouse mask, ears and gloves and wielding a gun, kicks open the door and start firing his gun into the ceiling.  Phil and his wife wake up with a start.  Phil’s wife sees the masked man with the gun and starts to scream.

ROSCO:  (in a scary voice) The time has come for us to leave –

Rosco walks closer to the bed.  Phil’s wife, completely hysterical, runs for the open door.  Rosco whips out a giant hose that is attached to his belt and going out into the hallway.  He points it at her, opens the nozzle, and a giant stream of water bursts out at Phil’s wife, who gets knocked back against the edge of the bed.  Rosco turns off the hose and begins to laugh.

PHIL:  (recognizing the laugh)  Ros?

ROSCO:  Yeah?


ROSCO:  I can’t remember the words to “The Pirates of the Caribbean” song, so fuck work!  Let’s go to Disneyland!

Rosco shoots the gun into the ceiling again. 

PHIL:  Why do you have a gun?!

Rosco looks at the gun for a moment.

ROSCO:  I’m not sure if I’m going to be able to answer that question to any sort of satisfaction.

Phil sits up in bed, trying to comprehend.

PHIL:  I’m not going to Disneyland.  Why don’t you just look it up?

ROSCO:  My internet went down a few hours ago.  It might be back up by now, but once I got the hose hooked up I decided just to run with it.

PHIL:  “Because if something is worth doing”, right?

ROSCO:  Exactly.

Pause.  Then Rosco fires the gun again.

PHIL:  FINE!  We’ll go to Disneyland!  Just stop shooting my ceiling!

ROSCO:  What?  Oh.  Sure.  Pause.  Sweet.


PHIL:  How do you shoot that gun while wearing those big gloves?

ROSCO:  With lots and lots of practice.

Phil’s wife, having come to over the conversation, sees Rosco standing over her and starts screaming once more.  Rosco blasts her with the water again.* Dedicated to Time for More Cake, who went through almost this exact same thing with his father when he was young.  Minus the wife, gun and water hose.And the song + lyrics can be found here.


Phil & Rosco Talk Music

Phil and Rosco are in a music store, looking through albums.  Phil picks one up and looks at the title.

PHIL: “Cock, Rocks and Gummi Bears”.  Where do they come up with these titles?

ROSCO:  Trash cans.

PHIL: What?

ROSCO:  Their trash cans.

PHIL:  What are you talking about?

ROSCO:  They look into their trash cans, pick out three items, and then that’s what they name the album.

PHIL:  No, that can’t be.

ROSCO:  It’s true.  The first three items they pick out are the titles.  Fool any “Music Snob”.  And any trash can will do.

PHIL:  Any trash can?

ROSCO:  Yup.

PHIL:  What would yours be then?

ROSCO: “Beer Bottles, Condoms and Q-Tips”.

Pause.  Another shopper stop near them as Phil thinks about his trash can.

PHIL:  “Tissues, Magazines and Bad Tuna.”

ROSCO:  See?

PHIL:  Hmmm.

PASSERBY:  Dude, that Bad Tuna album is so fresh.  Not as good as their first album though.

ROSCO: I rest my case.


Phil and Rosco on a Lazy Sunday

Phil and Rosco are in a car, with Phil driving.  It is a bright sunny day.

PHIL: I’m so glad we are getting to hang out together.

ROSCO: I know, right?

PHIL: It’s been forever since we’ve spent time together.

ROSCO: Not since that weekend I made us both get drunk on absinth start digging to China.

PHIL: Yeah.  So what do you want to do?

ROSCO:  I don’t know.  Anything.

PHIL:  You told me you had a couple of ideas, some things to do to have fun.

ROSCO:  Ehhhhhh, they mostly had to do with sneaking into movie theatres and pretending we worked there.

PHIL: That . . . doesn’t sound very fun.

ROSCO: And so I’m up for anything.


PHIL:  Ooooooooooooookay.


PHIL:  Do you want to see a movie?


PHIL:  How about the Pineapple Grille?  We usually have fun there.

ROSCO:  I’m not allowed back there anymore.

PHIL:  What?  Why?

ROSCO:  There was some . . .  uh, unpleasantness.

PHIL:  Ummmm . . . okay.


PHIL:  Well, let’s just drive around until we think of something.


ROSCO:  Okay.

Pause.  They drive by a Bentley Auto Dealership.

ROSCO:  Hey!  I got an idea!

PHIL:  Yeah?

ROSCO:  Do you like stealing?


PHIL:  Ummmm, no.

ROSCO:  What?

PHIL: I don’t like stealing.

ROSCO:  Oh.  (Pause.)  Nevermind then.  I got nothing.

They continue to drive in silence.


PHIL:  No!


End of scene.


Phil & Rosco Cower At The Feet Of Technology

Phil and Rosco are sitting on a couch, watching a laptop that is sitting on the coffee table in front of them.  They are laughing, watching funny videos online.

PHIL:  Hahahaha, that one was good, but you have to see this other one.  It has a guy with a hat shaped like a giant hippo and –

ROSCO:  You mean the one where he splashes his grandmother with the motor oil?

PHIL:  Yeah, but it’s a new video, just came out a few days ago.

Phil leans over and types some and then clicks.  The sound of a man speaking in falsetto and in a bad Armenian accent can be heard, although his words are undecipherable.  Phil and Rosco sit, watching and waiting for the funny moment to happen. 

PHIL:  Here it comes!  Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight –

Suddenly, the laptop turns off, with a dead battery symbol appearing on the screen.  Phil and Rosco sit in silence, their faces turning from anticipatory glee to befuddled horror.  They sit, staring at the dead laptop.  Then they look at each other.  Then they look around the room.  There is a large tv, with a dvd player under it, and a TiVO under that.  A large stereo lies on the floor, with multiple game consoles sitting around it.  There are piles of dvds, cds and books all over the room, as well as a large pile of board games.

ROSCO:  Well . . . I guess I’m . . . uh, going home.

PHIL:  Yeah.  Uh . . . yeah.

Rosco hesitates a moment, and then slowly gets up and walks to the front door.

PHIL:  Wait!

Rosco turns around.

PHIL:  (staring at a deck of cards lying near the laptop)  Maybe we could . . .


PHIL: (shaking his head) Naw, that’s a stupid idea.  See you later.

Rosco leaves.

Phil & Rosco Discuss Air Quality

Phil is driving a car late at night.  He has a Bluetooth headset on and is talking to his wife.  There is an odd noise coming from the car that sounds like a slow scrape, followed by a sputter.

PHIL: (into the headset)  Yeah, the festival was great.  Best chili cook off so far.  (Pause.)  I tried to sample every single one, but Ros ate as much as he could.  You know him, trying to get the best bang for his buck.  (Pause.)  Well, we just left an hour or so ago, but we should be back before sunrise.  (Pause.)  Don’t wait up though, I don’t suspect us getting back before midnight.  (Pause.)  What?  (Pause.)  No, the car is fine.  Why do you ask?  (Pause.)  Noise?  What noise?  (Pause.)  Oh no, that’s just Ros.

Phil turns around and looks in the back seat.  Rosco is lying down, facing the back window.  We realize that the sound is not coming from the engine, but from Rosco.  He is snoring, taking long deep snores in, but instead of breathing out he is sounding out long farts.  (Click for example.)

PHIL:  He’s sleeping, and he ate too much chili.  (Turns back around.)  All right, I’ll see you when we get in.  (Pause.)  Love you too.  Bye.

Phil clicks a button on the Bluetooth and takes it off his ear.  He drives a while, no music playing, just the sound of Rosco snoring at farting at the same time.  Then Phil takes a deep breath in, grimaces, and rolls down on the windows.

PHIL:  Jesus, Ros.  You should see a doctor.

Phil and Rosco Class It Up

Phil and Rosco stand in front of a poster for an upcoming film adaptation of a Shakespeare play.

PHIL: I don’t know why they keep making these things.  No matter how much they modernize the stuff, no one understands Shakespeare anymore.  And for those of us who do, watching these is like watching a mentally-handicapped bastard half-monkey trying to work an abacus.

ROSCO:  People don’t get the language.  What they need to do, instead of remaking his stuff, is adapt classic action films into Shakespeare-ese.  People will learn quickly if they already know what’s being said.  You’d have the common man speaking like an old English dandy in no time.

PHIL: What do you mean?

ROSCO:  Well, take “Heat” for example.  Instead of Robert De Niro saying, “You.  You!” to Ashley Judd, he’d say, “Thee.  Thee!”

PHIL:  Hmmmm . . . “Harlot!  Cleanse thyself and get thee hence unto thy proper quarters!”

ROSCO:  Exactly.  And Al Pacino could be all, “The Grim Reaper might perchance grisly happen upon your shadow whilst thee tarry and fro with thy canine abreast.”

PHIL:  Hehehe –


PHIL:  “Such time have you done in places to curb the spines of lesser men.  Folsom and pit for seven and three, with McNeal stretching ‘fore face.  Pray, do tales speak true?  That a soul, soiled by the Devil’s malicious touch, finds nothing but heart ache and despair in such a place?”

ROSCO:  “Doth thee seek a profession as scholar of iron bars and broken men?”

PHIL: “Doth thee seek return ticket and passage?  Pursuited I cowards who, at such a mere sun ray and freedom suckle, cringe and bemoan that fortune has again stolen them from their comfort, doth offend the law of man simply to dwell inside despair again.”

ROSCO:  “Chasing simpletons.”

PHIL:  “An assortment.”

ROSCO:  “What witness can lay claim that I commit petty acts of desolation?  I assault neither a purse from the poor nor a penny from an apothecary.  Have thine eyes seen me thus?”

PHIL:  “Nay.”

ROSCO:  “Indeed.  I shall never return to yonder hole, hence.”


PHIL:  I still don’t know.

ROSCO:  Yeah, me neither.