Hardly Working: Spitballing

By

CH Writing Staff

          INT. MEETING ROOM - DAY

          DAN, PATRICK, EMILY, JENNY, MURPH, and OWEN sit around.

                              PATRICK
                    All right, we need to come up with
                    a big idea to kick off the summer.
                    We've been here for three hours and
                    all I have written down is the
                    phrase "Two Scoops?" and a
                    hastily-drawn picture of what
                    appears to be an owl farting, and I
                    don't remember what either means.

                              EMILY
                    All right, I'm just spitballing
                    here... but, what if instead of
                    Batman and Catwoman, it was like,
                    Catman and Batwoman. I dunno.

                              MURPH
                    No, that's a thing- again, just
                    spitballing here, but he could have
                    a catchphrase after he nabs a bad
                    guy, like, "That's How Catman Do!"

                              PATRICK
                    Okay, I'm just eyeballing here,
                    but-
                         (pouring rum into a drink in a
                         COCKTAIL GLASS)
                    I THINK this is the amount of rum
                    that goes in a Dark 'n' Stormy.

                              EMILY
                    Guys, I'm just highballing here,
                    but-
                         (holding up THAT COCKTAIL, in
                         a drunk 1920s high society
                         voice)
                    My stars, Mr. Blackwell, I haven't
                    had a roll in the hay like that
                    since my childhood pony Abigail had
                    a bout of apoplexy!

                              MURPH
                    I'm just lowballing here, but-
                         (as if making a shrewd deal)
                    -my final offer is fifteen dollars
                    for that house!

                              DAN
                    I'm just sleazeballing here, but
                    Jenny, how 'bout I stick two bone
                    dry fingies in yo' stank-hole and
                    call you my buttpuppet?

                              OWEN
                    Let me just keep sleazeballing here
                    in response to that, and say-
                         (retarded voice, flicking
                         tongue, tossin' up SHOCKERS)
                    OoOoOoOoOoOh YeEeEaAaAhHh!

                              JENNY
                    Alright, I'm just cheeseballing
                    here, but-
                         (really genuine)
                    -that was the sweetest thing anyone
                    has ever said to me.

                              PATRICK
                    I'm just hardballing here, but-
                         (dead serious, to Dan)
                    -if you don't come up with an idea
                    soon, your affair with that window
                    washer's gonna be PLASTERED ACROSS
                    THE FRONT PAGE OF THE NY POST.

                              OWEN
                    I'm just Powerballing here, but-
                         (drawing a NUMBERED BALL FROM
                         A TRANSPARENT BOWL)
                    the next ball up... IS TWELVE!

                              EVERYBODY
                    Ah, shit!

                              DAN
                    Guys, I'm just freeballing here,
                    but-
                         (pulls boxers out of his
                         pants, slams on them on the
                         table, leans back relaxed)
                    AHH-ahh, yeah, that's nice.

                              JENNY
                         (JERKING OFF DAN UNDER THE
                         TABLE)
                    Hey, I'm just blueballing here,
                    but-

          Jenny WITHDRAWS HER HANDS and CROSSES THEM OVER HER CHEST.

                              DAN
                         (pained/pathetic)
                    Nooooo! Don't stooooop!

                              EMILY
                    I'm just hairballing here, but-
                         (as if coughing up a hairball)
                    EEEIIIIIIKKKKTTTTHHHH!

                              OWEN
                    I'm just eightballing here, but-

          Owen SNORTS A LINE OF COKE.

                              JENNY
                    I'm just skeeballing here, but-

          Jenny SPEED-ROLLS a SKEEBALL across the table. Somebody
          frantically DUCKS to avoid it.

                              PATRICK
                    I'm just meatballing here, but-

          Patrick SLAPS A SAUCE-COVERED MEATBALL DOWN ON THE TABLE.

                              EMILY
                    I'm just Cinderella's Ball-ing
                    here, but-
                         (looking at her WATCH)
                    OH NO!

          Emily TURNS INTO A PUMPKIN.

                              MURPH
                    I'm just snowballing here, but-
                         (starting MEASURED and growing
                         FRANTIC/UPSET)
                    -sometimes it feels like we start
                    with some normal, harmless
                    brainstorm, and it just gets
                    bigger, and bigger, and crazier,
                    and out of control, and it's just
                    like, I don't even know what's
                    happening anymore because
                    everything is so FUCKING CRAZY and
                    I JUST WANT TO TALK ABOUT CATMAN
                    AND BATWOMAN and I thought "CATMAN
                    DO" was a PRETTY GOOD JOKE but
                    NOBODY CARES 'CAUSE YOU'RE ALL A
                    BUNCH OF DAMN WILD ANIMALS! YOU'RE
                    FOOLS!

          Long, awkward beat.

                              PATRICK
                    Oooh! Guys, the farting owl was a
                    biting allegory for Romney's failed
                    tax policies.

                              EVERYONE
                    Oooh yeaaahh!

          END.