Script for 'Oh, That Roger'Script for Sitcom "Oh, That Roger!"Script for 'Oh, That Roger'6 years ago in Humor More Like This
*Roger walks into a room and the audience cheers*
Roger: I thought I left my drum sticks in here!!
*he searches, and finds only one*
Roger: Wait... where's the other one?
*freddie enters from another door*
Freddie: Roger, we're on in ten minutes!!! Get a move on, dear!
*Roger looks directly at the camera*
Roger: Oh no! I only have one drum stick!
"OH THAT ROGER!!!"
Roger: Who said that???
*he looks around then trips, thus setting it off again*
"OH THAT ROGER!!"
Roger: STOP IT!!!!
Freddie: Roger! Get up and find your drum stick! We can't play...IF YOU ONLY HAVE ONE DRUM STICK!!!
Roger: I'm TRYING!
Audience: OH THAT ROGER!!
Roger: MAKE IT STOP!!! I'LL DO ANYTHING!! DANCE IN MY UNDERWEAR, EAT GLASS, DATE FREDDIE--
Freddie: *all hurt* I'm as bad as eating GLASS?
Audience: OH THAT ROGER!!
Roger: PLEASE MAKE IT GO AWAY!!!!
Freddie: Well fine! I was GOING to help you find your drum stick, but seei
ill-fitting hearts."Do you know why she's dying?"ill-fitting hearts.6 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Because I broke her heart. God, I feel so fucking bad about that."
"No she's stronger than most I know. She's dying because you told her to."
"What? No, that doesn't even make sense."
"Think about it. She would do anything, for you."
You were nineteen and fell for the girl with the ballet toes and unreliable heart. You were a robot, programed to say her name every time you were asked a question. And when you urged your feelings to a breaking point, you found her standing outside your door with an i-love-you note and a field of asymmetrical freckles. That was all you needed to get down on one knee.
"Remember on your birthday, how she blew out the candles for you?"
"Yeah, because she was everything I wanted. God was good to me last year, giving me my wish before I even saw the candles."
She had the kind of eye lashes that curl up naturally like spider limbs when they die but she would wear sleep like eyeliner to make her look sick and damag
3 - superbly refinedthis morning, CNN told me3 - superbly refined6 years ago in Open More Like This
a meteor was going to hit
earth and the world was
going to end and we were
all going to die whether
we liked it or not.
Mr. and Ms. Wilson parked
their car in our driveway
and opened the door and
told me to hop in and
we would go to the
bomb shelter they built
just a few years ago
a few cities over
and I said a bomb shelter
isn't going to save us
from the meteor
but Mr. Wilson said yes
it will we're not going
and I said I wouldn't
die but they might if
they went to the shelter
and I carried a lawn
chair and a tape recorder
to the front porch
and went back indoors
to make myself a cup
and the neighbors drove
away and I sat down
and made myself comfy
and started recording
March eighteenth, the
end of the world
and I closed my eyes
and listened to the
March eighteenth, the
day everyone dies
except for me
Superbly RefinedThe sun was just beginning to set when Cyrus and his sister Luci finally began the brief walk downhill to the fairgrounds. Every summer the usually desolate area began a beehive of activity, the kind of social event that Cyrus could never understand and would usually avoid. Luci made it very hard for him to do so, however. She always enjoyed the bright lights of the Ferris Wheel and Tilt-a-whirl, but because none of her friends wanted to get near him with so much as a ten-foot pole it became his duty as her brother and sole guardian to drive her there.Superbly Refined6 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
“I think you’re old enough to go by yourself now,” he stated, his voice joining the cacophony of others making their way down to the main gates. Though he had complied, it did not mean he would not complain.
“Yea, but mom would kill you,” answered the pale haired youth beside him, “Besides, I can’t drive yet.” She added as an afterthought.
Slightly annoyed by the way the night the way was a
Positive Intro- GabilliamWilliam was in a near panic.Positive Intro- Gabilliam7 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
The tests couldn't be right. They just couldn't be. They had been so careful, and...
The little pink lines were drawn across the plastic sticks, each one making it more and more difficult to breathe. His hand went instinctively over the tiny bump in his abdomen, the one that had appeared just a week earlier. The one that he dismissed as just a little weight gain.
It had been, but not the type he hoped.
His hand reached for the phone. He had to call a doctor, Pete, Patrick, someone that he could talk to about this. He couldn't go to Gabe with it-- he would hate him. Possibly forever.
But before he could, black surrounded him and he fell backwards onto the cold tile floor.
To My Favorite ScarTo my favorite scar,To My Favorite Scar6 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Dont pretend you ever forgot about me standing under your window with this cinder-block in hand, yeah because no one will ever feel like me again. I know if I could move it would only be to crawl back to you, God I want to hate you half as much as I hate myself.
Youre always the girl everyone wants to dance with and Im always the girl who gets too many chances.
Love tore us apart again because I left my conscience between the pages of the Bible in the drawer and you gave me sympathy in the form of crawling into my bed. We always did it in the dark with smiles on our faces, your true feeling dropped and well concealed in secret places.
I was hopelessly hopeful and you were just hopeless enough to think our car crash hearts could make it through this intact.
I loved everything about you that hurt but now were over and Ive resigned myself to being your best kept secret and your biggest mistake. Maybe one day well get nostalgic for d
Meteoric QuicksilverMeteoric Quicksilver7 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Until I heard the colors, silence ruled
In cold dominion. Desperate airless cry
Of isolation; crushing, vacuum cold,
Sightless greyscale horrors plagued the eye.
But then, a filament of hope, a thread,
Whispered light to silenced psyche;
Quicksilver voice that banished morbid dread
A sonic thread, a higher frequency.
Kinetic joy, a rainbow symphony,
It soars on meteoric phoenix wings
That shatter the lacuna coil, break free
Bright soul, the melody through aether sings.
Neath spreading leaves, in dreams, I heard your song;
We love you still, that melody lives on.
55-Word Slices of CrazyThe secret to truly strong, manageable hair? He whispered, shaking out his tresses like a girl in an Herbal Essence commercial. Is to lather, rinse, repeat, he slowly coiled the garrote, his ponytail, around my paralyzed neck. Pulled.55-Word Slices of Crazy7 years ago in Humor More Like This
Then its strong enough for things like this. Dizzy. My world began to fade. Always, always repeat
The emaciated, wild-haired figure with lay in a straitjacket-induced fetal position. Raised his head with an animalistic grunt as the door grated open; a kind yellow face peered inside.
All right, Animal, medication time. Dr. Honeydews soothing voice promised safety, affection and free drum-expression time. Yes, he could suppress his urges for one more day
The shiny, happy family gathers around the Olive Garden table.
Boy, we should make this a family tradition! guffaws Daddy.
When did we have traditions?! Sister hisses.
When you ordered tha
not beautiful on the insidedear boy:not beautiful on the inside6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
why do you keep running away? when i see you i want to scream your name in a pitch higher than the tide pulls, but even if i did you wouldnt turn around.
did you know that its bad luck to make wishes on shooting stars?
did you know that fucking is just physics? so dont be jealous.
did you know that
did you know,
did you know,
did you know?
im high right now and
honest-to-god im not okay.
policemen are patrolling libraries when they should be outside your house getting ready for whats going to happen. i can tell that expression on your face means nothing but bad.
im afraid that flesh on flesh will turn into pen on paper and just be a part of the past,
another suicidal poets piece
one that will make people want to cry,
one that will make you want to cry because
it would be the proof left behind, saying that you couldnt fix me
but did you ever stop to think that maybe i didn
The Theme Of FreddieWake up underneath the bed, and smell the rainbow in the microwave,The Theme Of Freddie7 years ago in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
The world calls out for a hero like me, but the squirrels stole my deodorant again,
So I call forth my flamboyant bowtie, and we conquer in the name of love.
Even when theres doom in the air, I still have my hopes and my dreams and pastrami,
And Ill live to see another day where the scrunchie dances with my sharks.
Marshmallows in the rain are telling me how to find the fated path,
Do I wear a sock on a sock or should I just polish my forehead again?
Lets all ovelay and ejoiceray when the clouds melt into imagination,
I still love you but Im stealing your toenails when the cat sleeps on your face.
Your teddy is having an affair with the golden toaster.
I am the justice only thwarted by his cheese.
Ah love, sweet love, like a strawberry wind,
If only my heart wasnt dancing in the museum.
Wake up underneath the bed, and fall in love with the conga drum,
But the Easter Bunny still believes I
LullabyeA mellowed out Pete. This was a first for Patrick, but he wasn't complaining.Lullabye6 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Patrick sat on the bed in his cluttered apartment, fiddling with his guitar again, and nodding along to no particular rhythm. Pete lay sideways in the swivel chair a few feet away, and at the moment, looked half asleep.
But of course, no such luck for Patrick. Pete had other crazy ideas, but he had just contained himself for the past hour for Patrick's sake.
"Patrick " Pete whined, turning his head to look at Patrick. "What cha' doin?"
Patrick groaned in frustration, knowing this would not stop if Patrick didn't come up with a creative answer.
"I'm trying to write something for Folie à Deux," Patrick said lamely, plucking a few random notes. Pete raised a curious eyebrow at him.
"Are you crazy? All the tracks are done, and the final product is gonna be put on the CD in a week," But after seeing the look in Patrick's eyes - the look that sparked in his smoky gray eyes any time he came up with an idea
Somewhere Out ThereSomewhere Out There6 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
The pretty, young blonde woman walked out of her new house for just a brief moment. It was 9:47 PM at night and the true love of her life had just died the day before, leaving her half of his entire earnings (which was quite a bit) and his house. But, no amount of kindness could stop the flow of tears that followed his death. She was in her room sobbing for the entire day. But, for this moment, she had stopped crying, if not for a few minutes. Something in her heart had wanted her to come out right then. She looked up at the dark sky, with all of the twinkling stars. She wiped at her eyes, as she could feel the tears coming on, making her eyes twinkle like the stars above her.
How many people are crying up there?, she wondered, with the unstoppable tears stinging her eyes. One of the stars twinkled brightly, and she turned her head to look at it. This one was the brightest one by far, and it looked the closest to the ground. The closest to Mary. She shook her head sadly, lo
BlindnessBlindness3 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
The images in my head have always been overwhelming,
eclipsing or completely drowning the reality
that lays before my eyes.
am I to see?
Real Men of GeniusMr.Ridiculously Insecure Truck Nuts GuyReal Men of Genius6 years ago in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
Bud Light Presents Real Men of Genius
(Real Men of Genius)
Today we salute you, Mr. Ridiculously Insecure Truck Nuts Guy.
(Mr. Ridiculously insecure Truck Nuts Guy)
Even tough guys need a self-esteem boost and we know that nothing
says confidence like a 4x4 lifted truck with steel nuts hanging from the trailer hitch.
(The ultimate distraction)
Ladies might shy away, but nothing is more satisfying than knowing
you're making life awkward for everyone on the road.
(Daddy what is that?)
Not only are your truck nuts a hazard and slightly disturbing
but they've been banned in several states
($60 dollar fine)
So crack open an ice cold Bud Light, O' Road King of overcompensation.
You may have gotten inadequate genes from mom and dad, but truck accessories
shaped like male genitalia can fix it all.
(Mr. Ridiculously Insecure Truck Nuts Guy)
romancynical.a crush is but aromancynical.7 years ago in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
feeling of attraction and
doesn't mean a thing.
and she is me.she talks in poetryand she is me.6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
sometimes, and she
thinks in love and
still hasnt decided
whether shes the
strongest vessel or
the weakest link or
a separate entity.
she hoards things
because shes afraid
to let go.
and she loves people
and she loves ideas
but she mostly hates
what people and ideas
she buys herself
journals she never
writes in because
shes afraid she
wont do her life
justice. shes an
open book and a
closed door and a
[she can see out
but no one else
can see in.]
WonderlandWith laced up fingers, I noticedWonderland6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
That your heart was undone.
You laughed with sad embarrassment,
(it slid down from your lips, coating my cheeks with heat)
staring down at the cutting red heart
beneath your fingers
And said Ive never learned how to tie it.
PhalangesFinger bones creaked as I reached out,
Shaking out rusted flakes between the hinged joints.
I realized I was out of practice.
Bunny ears. Soft and warm
under glass cold nervous fingertips.
And No More Razor Bladesi. there's a man in the street who is walking with the loping grace of underbred idiosyncrasy, whistling improvised lullabies to the passing clouds. i want to know such a life, one touched by the willow's insane sadness, a myopic existence of seams hidden on the inside. i am messily sewn, an apprentice's pride, wound up and set out to the fangs and claws of promises held together by scotch tape and apologies.And No More Razor Blades6 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
ii. i find him waiting on a park bench, stretching his branches to catch the sun's rays which are so greedily devoured by the lucky mountain dwellers. he shows me the scars that they left when they fixed him, behind his ears like secret tattoos of secret lovers in galaxies far far away. he tells me about life not on the run and how different it is to sleep with your eyes closed but open if you tell them that you want it that way.
iii. his fingers are an artist's fingers, long and deliberate as he traces the sensitive skin and says one cut here and one cut
Into a CongoShocks rippled southInto a Congo3 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
realmed a loss and screened a track
stacks strung low and around again
She wanted the feeling of mica between her teeth
like lashes on a chiseled tree
totaled through and ruffled down
up and around again
Court and run south and
wrecked a home, she sat still
her knees knit together
unraveled over and into raw skin, over and into
she bloomed her hair into a Congo
It peeled like rose petals beneath her feet
a sheet strung high and low and around again
She said tell me why, but her fingers curled
around your head, around your neck, slowly
and then her shoulders
Jesus SmokesI've decidedJesus Smokes6 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
that if Jesus came to Earth now,
he'd probably smoke cigarettes
and always fall in love
with the wrong person.
If we wake up at night
and can't get back to sleep,
I could teach him
how to un-love his neighbor
and he could tell me
what the salty water feels like
under his feet.
He might wear his hair in a ponytail
and his eyes would crinkle when he smiles,
and I would smile too,
and in a small voice ask him what hell was like,
and is there any way to get someone back
if they've already gone too far?
He would take a drag on his cigarette,
nod kindly at the two boys holding hands,
and say that hell is more a state of being
than an afterlife, and no amount of love
can rescue someone from their own mind.
I thought so, I would say, not mentioning
the nights I've cried myself to sleep
does not equali. correlationdoes not equal4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
She gave me an envelope of outdoor voices:
this year's blood tests in chromakeyed blue.
She said, you don't have it. Not lupus.
Or chronic fatigue, lyme disease.
You'll have to come back soon, she said,
because science doesn't befriend the lonely.
I lost the envelope and trembled against
the fridge for half an hour, believing to feel
the bone marrow sliding under my needle skin.
Freak me the fuck out. Slipping into desperation.
Finding the statistics climbing up the walls.
I'm not ready to find out.
this automation mechanism is only speculative;
life and death are two cosmic mutations
TorchesI met my best friend in the hospital whereTorches4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
he told me that the most dangerous illusion is that freedom
can come back screaming once
it's lost & as we got older our Fugazi mornings became claustrophobic midnights willing each other manic under the pining
of the carbon monoxide detector, pretty lushly taking
the humanest cancers, the causal
parallaxes our identical allergens, his god being bigger than
my god since he could pay the beats off in this cosmic experiment, where Lazarus became the first
fascist for making death real on the corollary,
taking me for a spin in religion's Ferrari with the post-hardcore dawn
chorus, falling in & out of love with some scruffy fuck or other.
blitzkrieg luminanceAnywhere there's smoke, anywhereblitzkrieg luminance5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
there's light; anywhere there's
a riot, a reason, and a military,
there will be pharaohs entombed
in their houses and in fields
of sanguinary debris. A clarion
of triumph will echo into the sky;
now they sing of Sumer, they sing
of wheat and rye and hops,
trembling in bloodstained fatigues
under the sickle moon's soothing
lights. The only smoke now whistled
from the pockmarked earth, an argent
joke among thieves and warriors.
The pyramid homes lined
outside the modern day
Colosseum, silver madonna'd lawns,
idols in every window. Children
escaping doorways, gambolling
into the open arms of heroes.
Anywhere there's smoke,
there will be burning effigies;
anywhere there's smoke,
there will be dancing victories.
And anywhere there's light,
there will be greenery.