The following was presented at the WCF Spring Banquet on Saturday, April 15. It is presented below for your reading pleasure.


WCF Senior Skit, version 0.99

Cast:

     (Myrick) Clint Cannon -- Paul Taylor
     Chris Craig -- Peter Dillinger
     Teresa Garner -- Blair Dowling
     Rick Good -- Angela Price
     Chris Lenfest -- Brandon Lenfest
     Regis Philbun -- Evanda Remington
     Shelley Rehlin -- Elizabeth York
     Peter Sassone -- Josh Handyside
     Gwyneth Smith -- Amanda Burns

Scene:  WCF TV room, some random weekday evening

[Shot to four people sitting around a table.  The blond girl [Shelley]
is dealing out cards.]

Guy with glasses [LT]:  They killed us last rubber.  I think we need to
switch tactics.

Tall skinny guy [Lenfest]:  Yeah, I think you're right.  Let's try
playing "Weak Twos".

LT:  But "Weak Twos" are retarded!

Shelley:  (speaking mysteriously) According to the Laws of Bridge, "If
in doubt, play the BlackLLL Convention."

LT & Lenfest:  (confused) Huh!?!?

Asian-ish girl [Gwyneth]:  (seizing the opportunity, slides chair over
to Lenfest) Need cuggle... Need cuggle Now!

Lenfest:  (making feeble attempt to push off Gwyneth) Get off me!
(stands up, turns around, and walks straight into the wall) Wow, that
feels better.  (bends over in agony)  Oww, I think I sprained my back.

Gwyneth:  (sympathetic) Ahhhh, poor boy.

Short blond girl [Teresa]:  (walking past table, waving) Hey there.

LT & Shelley:  Hi Reesie.

LT:  How's it going?

Teresa: I just got back from softball.  It was a so-so game; I only hit
two home runs today.  Now I'm going downstairs, to practice the
bagpipes.

Shelley:  (confused) I thought you played the piano!?

Teresa:  Yeah, but that got kind of boring, so I'm trying something new.

(Teresa walks off stage; in a few moments, they can hear her playing
"Auld Laud Syne", from the end of Star Trek II.)

(Shelley is done dealing cards; the four begin bidding.)

LT:  Let's see...ummm....pass.

Lenfest:  Wait, was that a strong or weak pass under "Weak Twos"?

Shelley:  (accusingly) Hey, that's table talk!

LT:  (nodding)  She's right.  Dude, you got to check out this program I
wrote for my Palm Pilot.  It's kind of big -- it took me over fifteen
minutes.

Lenfest:  What is it.

LT:  Here, let me beam it to you.

(Both pull out their Palm Pilots.  LT beams the program to Lenfest.)

Gwyneth:  Ooh, let me see, let me see.  (Peering over shoulder.)  Three
Hs, six Cs, four Ds.....HEY!

(At this moment, a guy with glasses and dark hair [Peter] saunters into
the room.)

Lenfest:  (glad to change the subject) Hey Peter.

Gwyneth:  (incident already forgotten) Hi Petey!

Peter:  Hey guys, and (with a suggestive eye to Shelley) gals.  Don't
you think it's kind of bright in here?  Oh wait, Shelley is here!
*That's* why I thought it was so sunny.

Shelley:  (coldly) Very funny.

LT:  I haven't seen you in the longest time.  What have you been up to?

Peter:  Same old, same old.  I'm off to build another computer -- it's
been a whole 38 hours since I've last upgraded.

Lenfest:  Good luck.

Peter:  Hey, have you seen my Nutty bars?  I could have sworn there was
a juxtaposition between its presence and some interloper.  You could say
that it was a dichotomy between the law and anarchial genres.

Gwyneth:  What got into you?

Peter:  Oh, just practicing, in case I ever date an English major from
UGA.

Shelley:  (speaking slowly, to herself) Juxtaposition... wow, that'd be
worth over 150 points in Boggle!

(Peter waves goodbye, exits stage.  Sounds of swing music emanate from
his direction.)

Gwyneth:  Okay, where were we...LT passed, hmmm...Gee, I don't know how
to bid this.  What were the rules for opening at the three level?

LT:  If you've got four aces, another stopper in each suit, with two
doubletons, one of which in a major suit, a long minor suit which
consists of at least six, and no four of clubs, then bid three diamonds.
BUT, if you do have the four of clubs, then bid straight to slam only if
your partner promised the jack of spades.  (laughs)

Shelley:  No, no, that's not how its done.  You should bid slam *only*
if you have all five aces.

Gwyneth:  Speaking of five aces, that reminds me of another story about
Vicki back when we were living in Australia.  (The other three groan.)
You see, Vicki liked Dobermans even back then, and she would stay up
really late, crying all night, "Big Black Bug".

(The others wait for the rest of the story, but it appears that Gwyneth
is done.)

Lenfest:  Okay....and?

Gwyneth:  (cries out) Don't you get it!  (slowly, emphatically) BIG,
BLACK, BUG!

(The others force a laugh, then forget the whole incident.  Sounds of
thunder from somewhere offstage.  Teresa returns from practice, but hair
is disheveled.)

LT:  Hey Reesie.  What happened to your hair?

Teresa:  Well, while I was playing the bagpipes, I noticed how stormy it
was outside.  So I figured, as part of my EAS research, I'd see what
happened if I try flying a kite.

LT:  (gasps)  Were you hurt?  Did you get hit by lightning?

Shelley:  Of course not, you silly.  She's standing right there; her
molecular mass, coupled with energy introduced into the system by an
outside force, would not be able to overcome the ionization energy
stored within the covalent and hydrogen bonds within her.  And in the
absence of any catalysts, the reaction rate would approach zero, and
thus no spontaneous combustion.  Duh!  Didn't you learn that in high
school chemistry?!

(Teresa exits stage.)

Lenfest:  (getting irritated at Gwyneth's slow bidding) Bid already!
Somebody's taking *way* too long.

Gwyneth:  Hold on, I'm thinking.

Lenfest:  (slams a card on the table) The two can be played at *any*
time.

LT:  Hey, Law and Order is about to come on.

(Gwyneth hums the first few bars from the Law and Order theme.  Meanwhile,)

Shelley:  Is that a Buffy spin-off?

LT:  Quick, turn it to 37.

Thinnish guy [Clint]:  (protesting) Hey!

(As the group turns towards the TV, they suddenly notice a Clint sitting
on the couch, watching a game show [Who Wants to be a Millionaire].)

Gwyneth:  Hiya Clint.  I didn't even notice you sitting there.  You were
pretty quiet.

Clint:  Yeah, I've been thinking.  

Gwyneth:  About what?

Clint:  (slight Southern drawl) Well, you know how drums work based upon
acoustics.  (Others nodding.)  What would happen if we were to launch a
drum into space?  I mean, I could design all of the electronics for it,
but if nobody's around, would it still make a sound?

(Peter enters the room.)

Peter:  That was fun.  Well guys, I'm off to a party.

Lenfest:  At Phi Kap?

Peter:  No, a 1312 TA party.  We're celebrating the shafting caused by
P7 this semester.

Shelley:  See ya, Peter.

Peter:  (winks at Shelley) See ya, snookums.

(Peter exits scene.  Everybody's attention returns to the television.)

Clint:  NO WAY!  It's Rick-dogg!

(Pan over to a bearded contestant with a name tag [Rick] and the show's
host [Regis].)

Regis:  Hi there, Rick.  It says here that you're a graduating senior
at Georgia Tech.  How do you like it there?

Rick:  Well, I guess it's alright.  I think it's gotten a lot better
ever since the Republicans regained control of Congress.

Regis:  (confused) But that was several years now.

Rick:  Yeah, and it'll get better when G.W. Bush gets elected.  (raises
both arms up, palms upwards ["raise the roof"]) Go G.W., go G.W.!

Regis:  Let's get back to the show.  For $250,000, "According to the
'Home & Garden', the proper way to treat a cat who refuses to eat is (a)
take her to a vet, (b) force feed her, (c) wait to see if her condition
improves, or (d) none of the above."

Rick:  Well, you see, my grandmother told me this story that the best
way to treat a cat is to stuff it in a bag, tie it shut, and throw it
into a nearby pond.  So I'll have to pick 'D' as my answer.

Regis:  Final answer?

Rick:  Final answer.

Regis:  Correct!  (applause by the couch crowd) On to the next question.
For $500,000.  What is the molecular weight of propamidine?  (a) 310,
(b) 311, (c) 312, or (d) 313.

Rick:  Wow, what a coincidence!  I've got this microbrewery thing going,
and I was drinking some of my Rick Shine when I was thinking, "This
stuff tastes nasty" in my left brain while "The formula for propamidine
is C17 H20 N4 O2" ran through my right brain.  So the answer is
definitely (c) 312.  That's my final answer.

Regis:  You just won $500,000!  (more applause) Final question, worth
one million dollars.  You live in Atlanta.  If a train leaves New York,
heading west at 50 miles per hour, while another train leaves Chicago,
heading east at 25 miles per hour, how much must your girlfriend weigh
if she lives in Walla Walla, Washington?

Rick:  Uhhhh, I think I'm going to use my last lifeline.

Regis:  Okay, who do you want to call.

Rick:  My compadres at the Presbyterian Center.

Regis:  All right then, you'll have thirty seconds.

(The phone on the couch rings.  Everybody grabs for it.  During the
rumble, Lenfest dives over a chair and hurts his back again.)

Lenfest:  Wow, that was better than jumping those moguls.

(Clint eventually gains control of the phone.)

Clint:  Wazuppppp!!!

Rick:  Wazuppppp!  Dudes, you got to help me.

(Everybody begins speaking at once.)

LT:  Wait, let me write a program to calculate the answer for you.
(runs off stage)

Shelley:  (grabs the phone from Clint) Is the girl is shorter or taller
than you?

Clint:  Of course she's shorter!  (starts arguing with Shelley)

Lenfest:  (grabs phone from Shelley)  Is she going to be your future
ex-wife?

Gwyneth:  (to the phone) Did you buy an engagement ring?  (looks at own
ring) See, it sparkles!  That makes me sooooo happy.

Lenfest:  (arguing with Gwyneth) Are you nuts!?  The ring has nothing to
do with it!

Rick:  Oh no!  I'm waiting on the woman!

Regis:  Time's up.  Rick, what's your final answer.

Rick:  Uh...errr....42?

(Losing music plays.)

Regis:  I'm so sorry, but the correct answer is, "It depends if she's
wearing a twirly dress or not."  (faces audience)  Well, we're out of
time on "Who Wants to be a Millionaire".  Tune in next year, when we've
got a new crop of suckers, err, seniors.  Good night!

Gwyneth:  That makes me soooo sad.

Page updated 15 Apr 2000.
Jason Tang / tang@jtang.org