Jason

17

(The sun rose and everything fell)
(Once the tornado cleared away, everything in it started to fall to the ground, including one man, who fell down from the sky through the roof of his undamaged house into his attic, where he remembers that he wanted to look at some old family photos, because he hadn’t done so for awhile)
(After a few hours, his son finds him)
Alex: (While walking toward him and stopping behind him) Hey, dad, I’ve been looking
everywhere for you. It’s time for dinner. What have you been doing?
Father: Oh, I was just looking at some old pictures of my family and I, especially my dad. Did I ever tell you he could play one mean banjo?
(Father shows Alex a picture of his dad holding a banjo with an angry face on the body)
Father: Yep. He caught it in the wild when I was very young. Took him several years to finally tame that thing. He was a pretty good player too.
Alex: Wow, that’s unexpected. I thought our family just sucked at everything. You can’t play, can you, dad?
Father: Are you kidding? The banjo is in my genes! I could have been famous! But then you came along… You know what? I should start making something of myself. I’m gonna’ go buy myself a banjo and start playing tomorrow night!
(Edit to the next day where Father walks into the front door of his house with his wife sitting at the kitchen table)
Mother: You’re back. That was quick.
Father: Yeah, the music store was closed, so I sold to the devil in the back alley for one of his banjos. And you get a pack of gum with every purchase. Want some?
Mother: Umm, no thanks... Hey, wait a minute, you can’t be telling the truth! The Devil plays the fiddle, not the banjo.
Father: Oh, no, I didn’t get this from Satan, I got this from his cousin Baaly Bob.
Mother: Oh yeah, him. Well, looks like you’re going to Hell then, huh?
Father: Meh. You were going anyway. What a sucker. Alright, time to play this thing. Bear with me, I might be a little rusty.
(Father plucks a string)
(Banjo explodes)
Father: … Ok, maybe I’m a bit rustier than I thought.
(Edit to the next night, where Father is shown walking into a room and then starting to strip down)
(Mother, sitting at a desk in the background with her laptop, turns around and looks at her husband)
Mother: … What are you doing?
Father: I looked at some online reviews and other stuff and found out that some of the ingredients in the gum I bought from the devil are slightly carcinogenic‒ that diabolical prick! So I’m going to sue the devil and then use the money to buy a much better banjo.
Mother: … I see… Wait. You didn’t actually get cancer from the gum, did you?
Father: Nope.
Mother: Well then how do you expect to get any compensation if you‒
(Father dumps open drum of radioactive waste on his body)
(Edit to the next morning, with Alex and Mother sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast)
Father: (From upstairs) Hallelujah!
Mother: What is it, dear?
Father: I definitely have a cancerous mass!
Mother: Wonderful. Now you can sue the devil and get your undeserved compensation so you can pay all your medical bills and MAYBE get a new banjo.
Father: (While walking downstairs into the kitchen) Forget suing, that probably would’ve never worked. I’m keeping this!
Mother: (While looking up from her food to look at Father) Why the hell would you want to‒ What the?...
(Father is shown with a brain tumor which is so large that it juts out of the left side of his head horizontally, has a covering of skin, and has formed to match the look of a banjo perfectly and to the fine details)
Alex: Whoa.
Father: With this tumor I could be famous. I could travel the world as banjo player and circus freak! (To Alex) I told you the banjo was in my genes!
Mother: You can’t keep that thing, you’ll die!
Father: Oh, please. With all the money we’ll make, it won’t happen.
Mother: How is money going to help? What happens if the cancer spreads to the rest of your body? What if you start sprouting more banjos, or maybe even a ukulele, or some of the other pussified instruments?
Father: We’ll make so much money that I’ll be able to hire doctors who could help me maintain this without me dying. Now watch the born master in action.
(Father prepares to play new banjo)
(Father plucks the strings but the only sound produced is the sound of skin flapping against skin)
Father: Aww. It didn’t work. It’s probably the material. Regular banjos are usually made with light brown maple. If I were Hispanic it might’ve actually worked a little. No one’s gonna’ wanna’ see me now!
Mother: So you’ll give up this whole charade right now?
(Father sighs)
Father: Yeah, it’s probably for the best.
Mother: Well I’m glad you changed your mind. We’ll schedule an appointment with the doctor tomorrow.
Father: Yeah, good idea. And the sooner I get this thing off probably the better too. This thing hurts like hell.
(Father smacks Alex with the banjo across the face, knocking him off his chair to the ground)
Alex: Ow!
Father: See?
Mother: Well it might take a few weeks or possibly months. The sooner we do it the more debt we’ll probably be in.
Father: Oh yeah, we’re going to have to cut back aren’t we? We’re gonna’ have to deal with a lot of things: fewer luxuries, more work, lots of debt, and the fact that this would have been so much funnier if this banjo tumor had been growing out of my knee, (gathers an uncertain Mother and an unsure Alex in group hug) but we’ll make it, as a family.
(Short pause while still in group hug and with Father having his eyes closed and smiling, with Mother looking uncomfortably at Father, and with Alex staring up at Father)
Alex: You’re a dumbass.
(A few days later, Father is seen standing on the driveway, playing his toneless banjo tumor, during which he mutters to himself in pain, while waiting for Alex, who now walks on screen)
Alex: Looks like you’re getting better with that thing.
Father: Yeah, my fingering has improved. If only it didn’t hurt so much.
Alex: What did you want, dad?
Father: I need you to help me at the store, your mom sent me to go get groceries.
Alex: Ok, let’s go then.
Father: Not yet, I need a little help. This thing on my head is attracting a lot of unwanted attention. Yesterday at work, everybody kept telling me over and over again how sorry they felt for me. I tried to tell everyone not to worry so much because I was expecting to have it removed in only a few months, but then everyone just went ‘Oh’ and started laughing at me! I feel self-conscious now. I need some way to get people to not notice my tumor. I have some ideas but I wanted to hear yours first.
Alex: Why don’t I hear YOURS first. That’ll give me some time to think.
Father: Sure. Well, my first idea was to cripple my leg and get a wheelchair so that people would be more distracted by the chair.
Alex: No.
Father: Then I was thinking that I could run into the grocery store and shout ‘Bomb!’ so that everyone would run out… allowing me to get trampled, crippling my leg, so that when I assure them it was a false alarm and they come back in‒
Alex: No.
Father: (While grabbing saw) And then I was thinking I could just saw my leg in half right now‒!
Alex: Ok I have an idea!
(Edit to Father wearing an enormous sombrero)
Alex: There, let’s go.
Father: Thanks. I don’t need this while I’m driving though, so I’ll just put it in the back of the car.
(Father and Alex walk toward the car)
(Father opens the door to the driver’s seat, sits down, throws the sombrero in the back and closes the door, smashing his tumor into the window)
Father: Ow!
(Father rolls down the window)
Father: Oh, great. Now everyone is going to see me with the window down. Now what?
Alex: Why don’t you just put the sombrero back on?
Father: It’ll just blow off, and besides that would look stupid. There’s got to be something else we can do…
(Edit to the pair driving in their car to the store, Father’s tumor having been painted to look like a dog sticking its head out the driver’s seat window)
(The duo arrive at the grocery store and Father parks the car in a parking space)
(Father rolls up his window, forgetting that his tumor is still jutting out the window, causing his tumor to yelp like a dog, causing everyone in the parking lot to stare worriedly in Father and Alex’s direction)
(Father puts down the window to stop the yelping)
(Father then opens the door, rolls up the window again, exits the car, puts on his sombrero, and walks into the store with Alex, all of his actions done quickly and with an embarrassed grin, due to the fact that everyone in the parking lot is staring angrily in his direction)
Father: (In the store with Alex) Ok, so your mom gave me a list of a few dozen food items and such to buy. We have to save money because of my condition so think cheap. Alright, first thing is milk.
(Alex and his father walk into the breakfast aisle and father picks up a carton of milk)
Father: What?! A dollar! Ok, that’s it. Son, put this in your pants...
(Later, Alex and Father are walking down an aisle of the store, their clothes overly bulging from all of the groceries under them)
Father: Man. All this stuff is hard to carry.
(Father and Alex approach a worker)
Father: Excuse me, sir. Does this place sell trenchcoats?
Worker: Sir, what do you think you’re doing?
Father: Fooling the shit out of your dumb asses.‒ I mean, uh, nothing. We walked in to get some groceries. Why?
Worker: I just would like to know what you got there in, say, the front of your pants, for starters.
Father: That would be my wang, good sir.
Worker: Your wiener’s that flat-looking, huh? Like a magazine?
Father: Yep. Construction worker. Got it caught under a steamroller.
Worker: Ah ha. Alright, I’m gonna’ have to ask you guys to actually PAY for that stuff up at one of the registers. Ok?
Father: You want us to pay for our wieners at the‒
Worker: Just shut up and do it before I call the cops‒!
Father: BOMB!
Worker: (As Father and Alex run for the exit) Wait, what?! Where do you think you’re going?!
(Other shoppers run down the aisle for the exit, trampling the worker)
Worker: Ow! My leg’s broken! Shoot!... (While orienting himself to reveal something) Well, at least now no one will notice my incredibly bulbous colon tumor.
(A tumor juts out of the worker’s side and has formed into somewhat of a sign, which has an arrow pointing up at the worker and which reads, “FAGGOT”)
(Edit to Alex and his father running outside for the car)
(Alex and Father get in, Father rolls down the window, and Father speeds away)
(During their getaway, it starts to rain, washing the paint, that made Father’s tumor look like a dog, off Father)
Father: Shit! Oh well, I don’t care. I just want to get home.
(Minutes later, Alex and his father’s car stops at a stop light)
Father: Dang stoplight! Well, at least they probably won’t catch us now.
(Seconds later, a car pulls up in the lane to the left of Father’s)
(In the passenger’s seat is a guy with guitar, who notices Father and his banjo tumor)
(The man with the guitar then plays the first note of “Dueling Banjos” on his guitar)
Father: Ah, crap.
(Father prepares to play his banjo)
Father: (While playing his banjo (which projects its tonal sound out of Father’s mouth)) Ow!
(Man with guitar plays the next note)
Father: Ow!
(Guitar plays a slow melody)
Father: (Slowly) Ow! Ow! Ow!
(Guitar plays slightly faster)
Father: (Also slightly faster) Ow-ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!
(Guitar plays)
Father: Ow-ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!
(Guitar plays)
Father: Ow-ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!
(Guitar plays)
Father: Ow-ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!
(Guitar plays)
Father: Ow-ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!
(Guitar plays)
Father: Ow-ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!
(Guitar plays)
Father: Ow-ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!
(Guitar plays)
Father: Ow-ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!
(Guitar plays)
Father: Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!
(Guitar plays)
Father: Ow-ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!
(Guitar plays)
Father: Ow-ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!
(Guitar plays)
Father: Ow-ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!
(Guitar plays)
Father: Ow-ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!
(Guitar plays)
Father: Ow-ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!
(Guitar plays)
Father: Ow-ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!
(Guitar plays faster)
Father: (Also faster) Ow-ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!
(Guitar plays)
Father: Ow-ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!
(Guitar plays)
Father: Ow-ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!
Father: (While guitar plays) Ow!... Ow!... Ow!... Ow!...
Father: Ow-ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! (Just after light turns green; to Alex) Quick! Drive!
(Guitar plays while both cars race off)
Father: Ow-ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow-ow! Ow! (While guitar plays; Father plays very fast) Ow-owee-oowee-owee-owitty-owitty-owee! Ow-owee-oowee-owee-owitty-owitty-owee! Oowee-oowee-owee-oowee-oowitty-owitty-oowee! Oowee-oowee-owee-oowee-oowitty-owee-ow‒!
(Edit to Father preparing to sleep in his bedroom after having finally made it home)
(Father is currently cutting into his pillow and bed where his head lies with a hand saw)
(Mother walks in with pajamas on and stops behind him)
Mother: What are you doing?!
Father: (Slightly irritated) Trying to sleep, what’s it look like?
Mother: Umm… (Realizes what he’s doing) Oh, dammit! Stop it before you ruin the bed more!
Father: Oh come on! (While lying down on the left (camera-left) side of the bed to demonstrate) I like sleeping on my side and if I sleep on my right I have this stupid tumor jutting out in the air!
Mother: (While moving to the other side of the bed) Sleep on your back then!
Father: No!
Mother: (While lying down on the right side of the bed) Then deal with it! It’ll only be for a few more weeks. You’re not ruining this bed!
(Father intentionally twists his head, causing his wife to get smacked in the face by the banjo)
Mother: Ow!
Father: (Sarcastically) Oh, sorry. The force of gravity caused this thing to fall down.
Mother: (While turning off desk lamp) Just stop it and go to sleep.
(Long pause)
(A smack is heard in the darkness)
Mother: Ow!
Father: (Sarcastically) Sorry. Gravity again.
Mother: That was the plate of the saw, you idiot!
Father: (Sincerely) Oops.
(The next day, Alex and his sullen father are taking a walk around the neighborhood)
(Father sighs)
Father: Man. Yesterday was brutal. I don’t know how I’m gonna’ survive several more weeks of this.
(Father and Alex start walking by a house with a kid named Timmy playing in the yard with a baseball)
Timmy: Hello, sir.
Father: Hey Timmy.
Timmy: That thing on your head looks really cool. Can I have one?
Father: Oh no, trust me, this thing is NOT cool.
Timmy: Oh, well, do you think you could at least hit a baseball with it?
Father: I don’t know. Maybe.
(Father steps into the yard)
Father: (While tapping his banjo tumor against the side of his shoe like a batter tapping a bat against his cleat) Ow. Ow. (While getting in proper stance) Ok. Give me your best pitch.
(Timmy pitches the ball and Father smacks it so hard that it disappears over the horizon in seconds)
(Timmy stares back at Father with his mouth agape)
(Father gives a slight gasp as if something just came to him)
Father: (Excitedly) Oh my gosh! Alex!
Alex: What is it, da‒
Father: HOLY FUCK THAT HURT! And I just realized something too!
Alex: What?
Father: I’ve been great at batting since I was a boy! And with this thing I could destroy any competition.
Alex: That was pretty amazing, dad. I guess you were wrong about that thing, it IS cool… Really cool…
Father: That settles it then, I’ve just found my true calling. I’m going to be a professional batter in major league‒!
(The strings on Father’s banjo snap)
(Short pause)
(Edit to Father and Alex at the music store)
Father: (Talking to employee at cash register) Hi, I wanted to buy these banjo strings made of human skin. And also, it’s been awhile since I’ve actually restrung a banjo so I’m not very good at it. Could you guys help me do it?
Employee: Not a problem. My assistant will even do it for you, if you want?
Father: Oh, sure. That sounds better actually.
(Father easily pops off banjo tumor and hands it to the assistant)
Assistant: (While starting to walk to the back room) I’ll be back in about ten minutes.
Father: Okeydokey.
(Ten minutes later)
Assistant: Ok, here you go.
Father: (While grabbing tumor and putting it back in his head) Thank you.
Employee: Alright, you guys have a good day now.
Alex: You too.
Father: See ya.
(Alex and his father walk out the door)
(Father and Alex arrive back at Timmy’s yard)
Father: Alright. So where were we?
Alex: Well, you were standing here, and I was standing… here, and Timmy was standing over there looking at you with his mouth agape.
Father: Where is he?
Alex: I think he went inside.
Father: (Shouting loudly toward Timmy’s house) Hey Timmy, get out here and hold your mouth open! Wait, no!‒ I mean!... Oh, just get out here!
(Timmy exits house and quickly moves to his position)
Father: Now, where was I?... Oh, yeah.
Father: ‒Baseball!
(Father picks up a glove, puts it on, and turns in the opposite direction to catch the ball he had hit)
Father: And I’d be a darn good outfielder too.
(Next is a montage of Father in the major leagues, making great hits, great catches, etc.)
(In one part, a baseman is trying to tag Father out but Father uses his banjo tumor to smack him to the ground)
(The final part is of Father hitting a soon-to-be home run, at which point the scene freezes as if a picture were snapped)
(The camera then pans back to reveal the image in a photo in a picture frame hanging on the wall)
(A much older Alex is seen admiring the photo, which is in an upper room)
Alex’s Wife: (Calling from downstairs) Honey, our son dumped a drum of radioactive waste on himself and has now just grown a tumor in the shape of a banjo out of his foot!
Alex: Have him do it again so that it might grow out of his head next time!
Alex’s Wife: … Wait, What?!
Alex: (To himself) Heh, heh, heh. If only she truly understood...
(The camera shows the photo of Alex’s father again)
(The camera then pans back to reveal a photo, next to the first, of Alex in the major leagues, next to which is an empty space intended for another frame)
(The camera then points back at Alex, on whose head we see a scar, signifying the removal of his banjo tumor after his retirement from baseball)
Alex: Like father, and grandfather, like son.
Alex’s Wife: No seriously! What did you just say?!
Alex: Hold on, I’ll be down! Give a me a bit though, it takes me awhile to open doors!
(Alex stared at the door handle and slowly turned the knob)