Post by Jonny Fly on May 15, 2013 18:03:51 GMT -5
[Scene Begins]
Just about one hour ago Jonny Fly’s plane landed in Los Angeles, California. He and his new best-friend Steve Orbit (at least for the time being) are on the world’s most spectacular mission. These two sexual maestros’ are on the prowl for their not-so-good friend, the ravishing redhead herself, Sarah Twilight. Their mission? To infiltrate her lady parts and get it on video as proof to the other they are the true highlander! In this reference, the highlander sword is a wiener. Or, something like that. I think you get it, so let’s move on.
Jonny Fly has made his way out of the airport, hailed a cab, and has taken it to the suburb of Sunland, California. More specifically, he’s gone to the Logan Hawkins’ School of Professional Wrestling. As our scene takes hold, Fly exits his cab and walks up to the front door of the small building. As he enters the building he immediately bellows out in boisterous Jonny Fly fashion…
Fly: BASK IN THE PRESENCE OF THE WORLD’S GREATEST WRESTLER, NOOBS!
The Logan Hawkin’s School of Professional Wrestling features several makeshift wrestling rings, and right now several students are practicing various moves inside the rings with their trainers. As Fly yells out, all action inside the building comes to a halt. The students stare in wonderment at the sight of the heralded wrestler in their training center. A man walks out from left hand-side of the building where the offices are, and approaches Fly.
“Jonny Fly, in my school. This is unexpected.”
Fly: Who are you?
“Logan Hawkins. You might have seen my name on the building.”
Fly: If you’re Logan Hawkins, how come you’re not providing hands on instruction to your students?
Logan: I was doing paperwork. My students are going through their daily program with the assistance of my support staff. I get involved during the more hands-on phase of their training.
Fly: So, tell me, how many jobbers have come out of your school? Five? Ten? Twenty? Clearly you’re not producing talent like me in this shithole.
Logan: I’ve trained some of the finest professionals in the industry, Mr. Fly. I trained the current WCF World Champion, but you already knew that.
Fly: Yeah, so that’s at least one jobber you have on your resume.
Logan Hawkins looks thoroughly annoyed as Fly flashes a cheeky grin.
Logan: Is there something I can do for you, Mr. Fly?
Fly: Actually, yes. I’m looking for Sarah. You haven’t seen her have you?
Logan: I haven’t seen her in a few months, no.
Fly: You wouldn’t be lying to me, would you? Could it be that your prize pupil has forgotten about you already? That’s sad. You wouldn’t happen to know where she lives or anything like that, would you?
Logan: Why are you so interested in finding her?
Fly: It’s really not any of your business, is it?
Logan: You came here to ask me where she is. So, yeah, that makes it my business. I know where she lives, but I’m not going to tell you. If she wanted you to know where she lived she would have told you herself.
Fly smiles at the response.
Fly: I tell you what, old man. How about we wrestle for it? If I win, you tell me where she lives.
Logan: Absolutely not.
Rawr. That doesn’t make Fly happy. He yells out once again for everyone to hear.
Fly: HEY GUYS! WOULD YOU LIKE TO SEE THIS DECREPIT MOTHERFUCKER WRESTLE ME?
Cheers all around.
Fly: Give the people what they want. Don’t be scared. I won’t hurt you too bad.
Logan: You really should leave.
Fly: Tell me Logan, is the reason why your only successful protégé has been a woman because you don’t have any balls yourself? You two understand one another on a cellular level, don’t you? You two are like one giant man-woman of wrestling mediocrity. You’re standing here in front of all your students, with a real live wrestler challenging you to a match, and you’re backing down? Do you think they’re really going to listen to another word you say after this? Look around, you’re losing respect by the second…
Logan: I teach my students to control their emotions, to never let an opponent get in their head.
Fly: Oh, I’m in your head. I’m in everyone’s head. I’m the center of the wrestling universe; my name is on the tip of every tongue that bleeds on the square canvas. If you tell me where Sarah is, I’ll even give a free lesson to your students. A REAL lesson from a REAL wrestler, not some old hack who never made it. Trust me; it’ll be much better than that feminine shit you shove down their throats.
Logan: No. The last thing I would ever want is my students to act like you.
Fly: Like me? Listen, pro-tip, there is one speed in this industry. That speed is mine. Those who can’t keep up are destined for careers of jobberdom, or for the very best, midcard purgatory. The best you’ve ever done is Sarah Twilight, and I squashed that bitch into the ground like a fuckin’ ant. Yeah, a man with a wrestling school surely wouldn’t want anyone to act like me.
Logan: I’ve given you my answer. I’m not going to change my mind. I’d like you to leave.
Fly stares daggers through Logan Hawkins. You could almost sense at any moment that he’s about to strike, but he doesn’t. Fly takes a step backward and looks around at all the wrestling hopefuls in the ring. He scoffs, turns, and walks away, leaving the school.
20 minutes later
Jonny Fly exits another cab, this time in front of the Mountain View Elementary School right down the street from Logan Hawkins’ Professional Wrestling School. Not giving two fucks that school is currently in session, Fly walks into the school. Considering Los Angeles is the town of crazy people, the first thing we come across is two uniformed police officers straddling a metal detector. Fly walks up to them.
Fly: So…this. Do I need to take off my shoes, or what?
Police Officer: No sir, just remove everything metal from your pockets and place them in the bin.
Fly: Alright, hold this for me…
Fly pulls out a 9mm pistol from his jacket pocket and sets it on the table. The officers start shitting rainbows.
Fly: I’ll be back for that in about ten minutes, hopefully, so don’t lose it.
Before the officers can even ask any questions, Fly moves through the metal detector and into the main hallway of the school. If at this point you’re asking yourself how Fly got a pistol through airport security, the answer is that it’s dangerous times for Jonny Fly. Don’t you remember? He’s a wanted man! Plus, L.A. doesn’t have any shortage of weapons, that’s for damn sure. Fly walks through the main hallway and into a door labeled ‘office.’ Inside, he approaches the secretary.
Fly: Hi, I’m Jonny Fly. You’ve probably heard of me. I need to speak with your principal.
The secretary does know who he is. Everyone knows who he is; he almost has as many World Titles as fingers. She stammers, searching for the right words to disguise her shock/excitement/moistness in the panties region.
Secretary: Well, uh, he…he’s in a meeting right now.
Fly: Oh good, could you show me where?
Secretary: But…he’s meeting with….oh, screw it…
Fly’s rugged and handsome looks win again. The secretary points to a back hallway and tells Fly he’s in the conference room. Fly follows her verbal map and enters the conference room where the school’s principal, Principal Harker, and several of his minions are sitting talking about whogivesafuckwhat.
Fly: Sorry to interrupt…well, not really. Principal Harker, I need a word with you as soon as possible.
The principal stands up on his feet with a very grumpy look on his face.
Harker: Sir, you are interrupting a very important meeting.
Fly: Trust me, it’s not more important that what I need you for.
Harker: What could that be?
Fly: I need to have sex with Sarah Twilight.
Shocked looks all around. It works though, the pure insanity of that comment leads Principal Harker to dismiss all of his subordinates in the room, leaving just Fly and him.
Harker: Have a seat.
Fly complies.
Fly: My name is Jonny Fly, and I’m a professional wrestler. I’m in search for another professional wrestler, Sarah Twilight. I came here because I know once upon a time she went to school here and…well, anyway, to cut to the chase the future of this country depends on my ability to put the ‘Flyacanda’ into her forbidden love triangle.
Harker: I…don’t even know how to respond to that.
Fly: Look, Principal Harker, I know that’s a lot to take in at once. Sarah’s vagina is going to have the same problem. Let me start at the beginning. I have a friend. He’s black. Okay…so you can see where this went downhill from the start…
Harker: You’re still not making any sense.
Fly: Let me finish! Now, this friend of mine, the black one, he’s actually a super assassin. But he’s old. Sort of. He’s trying to settle down and produce some kids to take over his super assassin secret society. He feels that Sarah is the perfect female to mate with. But, SWERVE ALERT, he’s an EVIL assassin. He wants to overthrow the government like he’s Chad Evans or some shit. You following?
Harker: Not at all.
Fly: Well, keep listening. So, my plan, being the great guy that everyone knows me as, is to have sex with Sarah Twilight first and taint her, thereby stopping the black assassin from creating his family of raspberry haired choco assassin babies. Yeah, shit just got real. Now, I know the school has files on all their former students. Why don’t you just go ahead and pull out her old file and let me know where she’s living and I’ll take care of the rest.
Harker: I…can’t just give you the address of a former student. That would be against the law.
Fly: What if I were to ‘steal’ them?
Harker: That would be against the law too. I can’t let you do that.
Fly: Well what can you let me do?
Harker: I could give you the phone number of a therapist? You clearly have some issues you could use to work out with….
Fly listens no more. He gets up and walks out of the room. He returns back to the front of the office and greets his very favorite secretary.
Fly: Hey, Principal Harker just told me I’m allowed in the records room. Would you be a doll and open it up for me. The fate of the entire country depends on it, so, chop-chop.
Like a fuckin’ drone the secretary gets up and walks over to the records room and opens up. Jonny Fly enters and procures the information that he desires. Off to the next stop.
30 minutes later
Jonny Fly’s cab has just arrived at a building named ‘WJ Contracting.’ Fly exits the car and walks into the front door of the building. He’s greeted by a female secretary behind her desk.
Secretary: Hello sir, may I help you?
Fly: Yes, hello. I’m looking for a gentleman named Alec.
Secretary: Is he expecting you?
Fly: No. I’ve actually never met him, but I have some paperwork that listed this as his work address and I need to speak to him about something urgent.
Secretary: Okay, well if you have a seat I’ll page him.
Fly: You’re the best…seriously, my secretary isn’t worth a shit. Why don’t you give me your card, I might just want to hire you away from this place.
Milliseconds later a business card is stuffed into the wanting hands of Jonathan Fly.
Fly: When I call you, please be prepared to answer the question of how you feel about three-way sex with your boss and his Doctor girlfriend. With that aside, please page Alec for me, sweetheart.
The secretary blushes at the comment and picks up her phone as Fly takes a seat in the waiting room. What is that? Wrestling Weekly magazine on the coffee table? Jackpot, baby! Fly picks that shit up and begins reading an article about his upcoming statue. Who else can’t wait until that bad boy is finished? Anyway, he gets interrupted about halfway through the article by a 50-something year old ginger man staring down at him.
Fly: Uh…can I help you creepy stalker dude?
Alec: I got a page that said you wanted to meet with me.
Fly: You’re Alec? That can’t be right, where’s your glorious mustache…and why did you dye your hair?
Alec: That’s ALEX Trebek, not Alec. Plus, not all Alex’s have big bushy mustaches.
Fly: Well, they should. This is like meeting a Michael Jordan that isn’t black and doesn’t have six championship rings.
Giant sigh from Alec, the non-mustache, non-Alex, ginger version.
Alec: Was there something you wanted to discuss, or did you just come here to ridicule my name and/or lack of mustache?
Fly: I wanted to talk to you to about your daughter, Sarah Twilight.
Alec: I probably should sit down for this.
Alec takes a seat in a chair next to Fly.
Fly: I really need to know where she is. Would you happen to know where I can find her?
Alec: I’m afraid I don’t know where she is. We don’t exactly keep up with one another. Why are you looking for her?
Fly: I’m pregnant with her unborn child.
Shocked gasp confusion face.
Fly: What? It’s as believable as the last story I told.
No response. Just confusion.
Fly: Look, are you sure you don’t know where she is? Would you know of anyone else who might know where she is? It’s really important that I…’hook up’…with her.
Alec: Well, hell, I suppose it won’t hurt to give you her sister’s phone number. She’ll know where Sarah is. Her sister’s name is Rachel. You can reach her on her cell phone, 310-236-**** (number is protected because god forbid Eric Price gets a hold of that shit).
Fly: Thanks! You’ve been a lot of help.
Fly and Alec rise to their feet and shake hands.
Alec: Good luck with the baby.
…
Fly: Uh….right.
Anyway, Fly peace’s out of this place. Standing outside near the front door he pulls out his phone and begins dialing Rachel’s number. He puts the phone on speaker so that we can hear the conversation.
Rachel: Hello?
Fly: Rachel! How are you, babe?
Rachel: What? Who is this?
Fly: Jonny Fly, did you not recognize my melodic voice?
Rachel: I’ve never talked to you. What do you want?
Fly: I’m calling about your sister. You see, we share the same doctor and he violated HIPPA laws earlier today and told me that poor Sarah is suffering from a disease called Galactorrhea and…
Rachel: Wait, WHAT? Sarah is sick?
Fly: Yeah! Galactorrhea, it’s the spontaneous flow of milk from the nipple as a result of excessive prolactin. It’s very dangerous, and usually pretty embarrassing. The point is that I’m in Los Angeles right now trying to find her because I bought her a giant get well soon card, fruit basket, and breast pump. You wouldn’t happen to know where she is would you?
Rachel: Sarah is in New York. She’s doing Letterman tonight.
Fly: Wait…DOING…Letterman?
Rachel: Why did you say it like that? Are you making a sexual reference?
Fly: I don’t remember. Hey, Letterman wouldn’t be codename for her having sex with a black guy who resembles a pimp, would it? He may or may not have a feather in his cap and be wearing telletubbie colors…
Rachel: She’s APPEARING on the David Letterman show tonight. She flew in to New York earlier this morning.
Fly: SONOFABITCH, I flew in to L.A. this morning looking for her! The good news is that motherfucker Steve Orbit won’t know she’s back in New York and I can get the jump on him…and Twilight, literally in her case…
Rachel: …what are you talking about?
Fly: Hey, hold up, I have another call.
Click.
Fly: What a dumb slut. It looks like I better head back to New York.
Like a phantom, Jonny Fly disappears into his cab en route to the airport to make haste back to New York City. Our scene comes to a close.
[Scene Ends]
Just about one hour ago Jonny Fly’s plane landed in Los Angeles, California. He and his new best-friend Steve Orbit (at least for the time being) are on the world’s most spectacular mission. These two sexual maestros’ are on the prowl for their not-so-good friend, the ravishing redhead herself, Sarah Twilight. Their mission? To infiltrate her lady parts and get it on video as proof to the other they are the true highlander! In this reference, the highlander sword is a wiener. Or, something like that. I think you get it, so let’s move on.
Jonny Fly has made his way out of the airport, hailed a cab, and has taken it to the suburb of Sunland, California. More specifically, he’s gone to the Logan Hawkins’ School of Professional Wrestling. As our scene takes hold, Fly exits his cab and walks up to the front door of the small building. As he enters the building he immediately bellows out in boisterous Jonny Fly fashion…
Fly: BASK IN THE PRESENCE OF THE WORLD’S GREATEST WRESTLER, NOOBS!
The Logan Hawkin’s School of Professional Wrestling features several makeshift wrestling rings, and right now several students are practicing various moves inside the rings with their trainers. As Fly yells out, all action inside the building comes to a halt. The students stare in wonderment at the sight of the heralded wrestler in their training center. A man walks out from left hand-side of the building where the offices are, and approaches Fly.
“Jonny Fly, in my school. This is unexpected.”
Fly: Who are you?
“Logan Hawkins. You might have seen my name on the building.”
Fly: If you’re Logan Hawkins, how come you’re not providing hands on instruction to your students?
Logan: I was doing paperwork. My students are going through their daily program with the assistance of my support staff. I get involved during the more hands-on phase of their training.
Fly: So, tell me, how many jobbers have come out of your school? Five? Ten? Twenty? Clearly you’re not producing talent like me in this shithole.
Logan: I’ve trained some of the finest professionals in the industry, Mr. Fly. I trained the current WCF World Champion, but you already knew that.
Fly: Yeah, so that’s at least one jobber you have on your resume.
Logan Hawkins looks thoroughly annoyed as Fly flashes a cheeky grin.
Logan: Is there something I can do for you, Mr. Fly?
Fly: Actually, yes. I’m looking for Sarah. You haven’t seen her have you?
Logan: I haven’t seen her in a few months, no.
Fly: You wouldn’t be lying to me, would you? Could it be that your prize pupil has forgotten about you already? That’s sad. You wouldn’t happen to know where she lives or anything like that, would you?
Logan: Why are you so interested in finding her?
Fly: It’s really not any of your business, is it?
Logan: You came here to ask me where she is. So, yeah, that makes it my business. I know where she lives, but I’m not going to tell you. If she wanted you to know where she lived she would have told you herself.
Fly smiles at the response.
Fly: I tell you what, old man. How about we wrestle for it? If I win, you tell me where she lives.
Logan: Absolutely not.
Rawr. That doesn’t make Fly happy. He yells out once again for everyone to hear.
Fly: HEY GUYS! WOULD YOU LIKE TO SEE THIS DECREPIT MOTHERFUCKER WRESTLE ME?
Cheers all around.
Fly: Give the people what they want. Don’t be scared. I won’t hurt you too bad.
Logan: You really should leave.
Fly: Tell me Logan, is the reason why your only successful protégé has been a woman because you don’t have any balls yourself? You two understand one another on a cellular level, don’t you? You two are like one giant man-woman of wrestling mediocrity. You’re standing here in front of all your students, with a real live wrestler challenging you to a match, and you’re backing down? Do you think they’re really going to listen to another word you say after this? Look around, you’re losing respect by the second…
Logan: I teach my students to control their emotions, to never let an opponent get in their head.
Fly: Oh, I’m in your head. I’m in everyone’s head. I’m the center of the wrestling universe; my name is on the tip of every tongue that bleeds on the square canvas. If you tell me where Sarah is, I’ll even give a free lesson to your students. A REAL lesson from a REAL wrestler, not some old hack who never made it. Trust me; it’ll be much better than that feminine shit you shove down their throats.
Logan: No. The last thing I would ever want is my students to act like you.
Fly: Like me? Listen, pro-tip, there is one speed in this industry. That speed is mine. Those who can’t keep up are destined for careers of jobberdom, or for the very best, midcard purgatory. The best you’ve ever done is Sarah Twilight, and I squashed that bitch into the ground like a fuckin’ ant. Yeah, a man with a wrestling school surely wouldn’t want anyone to act like me.
Logan: I’ve given you my answer. I’m not going to change my mind. I’d like you to leave.
Fly stares daggers through Logan Hawkins. You could almost sense at any moment that he’s about to strike, but he doesn’t. Fly takes a step backward and looks around at all the wrestling hopefuls in the ring. He scoffs, turns, and walks away, leaving the school.
20 minutes later
Jonny Fly exits another cab, this time in front of the Mountain View Elementary School right down the street from Logan Hawkins’ Professional Wrestling School. Not giving two fucks that school is currently in session, Fly walks into the school. Considering Los Angeles is the town of crazy people, the first thing we come across is two uniformed police officers straddling a metal detector. Fly walks up to them.
Fly: So…this. Do I need to take off my shoes, or what?
Police Officer: No sir, just remove everything metal from your pockets and place them in the bin.
Fly: Alright, hold this for me…
Fly pulls out a 9mm pistol from his jacket pocket and sets it on the table. The officers start shitting rainbows.
Fly: I’ll be back for that in about ten minutes, hopefully, so don’t lose it.
Before the officers can even ask any questions, Fly moves through the metal detector and into the main hallway of the school. If at this point you’re asking yourself how Fly got a pistol through airport security, the answer is that it’s dangerous times for Jonny Fly. Don’t you remember? He’s a wanted man! Plus, L.A. doesn’t have any shortage of weapons, that’s for damn sure. Fly walks through the main hallway and into a door labeled ‘office.’ Inside, he approaches the secretary.
Fly: Hi, I’m Jonny Fly. You’ve probably heard of me. I need to speak with your principal.
The secretary does know who he is. Everyone knows who he is; he almost has as many World Titles as fingers. She stammers, searching for the right words to disguise her shock/excitement/moistness in the panties region.
Secretary: Well, uh, he…he’s in a meeting right now.
Fly: Oh good, could you show me where?
Secretary: But…he’s meeting with….oh, screw it…
Fly’s rugged and handsome looks win again. The secretary points to a back hallway and tells Fly he’s in the conference room. Fly follows her verbal map and enters the conference room where the school’s principal, Principal Harker, and several of his minions are sitting talking about whogivesafuckwhat.
Fly: Sorry to interrupt…well, not really. Principal Harker, I need a word with you as soon as possible.
The principal stands up on his feet with a very grumpy look on his face.
Harker: Sir, you are interrupting a very important meeting.
Fly: Trust me, it’s not more important that what I need you for.
Harker: What could that be?
Fly: I need to have sex with Sarah Twilight.
Shocked looks all around. It works though, the pure insanity of that comment leads Principal Harker to dismiss all of his subordinates in the room, leaving just Fly and him.
Harker: Have a seat.
Fly complies.
Fly: My name is Jonny Fly, and I’m a professional wrestler. I’m in search for another professional wrestler, Sarah Twilight. I came here because I know once upon a time she went to school here and…well, anyway, to cut to the chase the future of this country depends on my ability to put the ‘Flyacanda’ into her forbidden love triangle.
Harker: I…don’t even know how to respond to that.
Fly: Look, Principal Harker, I know that’s a lot to take in at once. Sarah’s vagina is going to have the same problem. Let me start at the beginning. I have a friend. He’s black. Okay…so you can see where this went downhill from the start…
Harker: You’re still not making any sense.
Fly: Let me finish! Now, this friend of mine, the black one, he’s actually a super assassin. But he’s old. Sort of. He’s trying to settle down and produce some kids to take over his super assassin secret society. He feels that Sarah is the perfect female to mate with. But, SWERVE ALERT, he’s an EVIL assassin. He wants to overthrow the government like he’s Chad Evans or some shit. You following?
Harker: Not at all.
Fly: Well, keep listening. So, my plan, being the great guy that everyone knows me as, is to have sex with Sarah Twilight first and taint her, thereby stopping the black assassin from creating his family of raspberry haired choco assassin babies. Yeah, shit just got real. Now, I know the school has files on all their former students. Why don’t you just go ahead and pull out her old file and let me know where she’s living and I’ll take care of the rest.
Harker: I…can’t just give you the address of a former student. That would be against the law.
Fly: What if I were to ‘steal’ them?
Harker: That would be against the law too. I can’t let you do that.
Fly: Well what can you let me do?
Harker: I could give you the phone number of a therapist? You clearly have some issues you could use to work out with….
Fly listens no more. He gets up and walks out of the room. He returns back to the front of the office and greets his very favorite secretary.
Fly: Hey, Principal Harker just told me I’m allowed in the records room. Would you be a doll and open it up for me. The fate of the entire country depends on it, so, chop-chop.
Like a fuckin’ drone the secretary gets up and walks over to the records room and opens up. Jonny Fly enters and procures the information that he desires. Off to the next stop.
30 minutes later
Jonny Fly’s cab has just arrived at a building named ‘WJ Contracting.’ Fly exits the car and walks into the front door of the building. He’s greeted by a female secretary behind her desk.
Secretary: Hello sir, may I help you?
Fly: Yes, hello. I’m looking for a gentleman named Alec.
Secretary: Is he expecting you?
Fly: No. I’ve actually never met him, but I have some paperwork that listed this as his work address and I need to speak to him about something urgent.
Secretary: Okay, well if you have a seat I’ll page him.
Fly: You’re the best…seriously, my secretary isn’t worth a shit. Why don’t you give me your card, I might just want to hire you away from this place.
Milliseconds later a business card is stuffed into the wanting hands of Jonathan Fly.
Fly: When I call you, please be prepared to answer the question of how you feel about three-way sex with your boss and his Doctor girlfriend. With that aside, please page Alec for me, sweetheart.
The secretary blushes at the comment and picks up her phone as Fly takes a seat in the waiting room. What is that? Wrestling Weekly magazine on the coffee table? Jackpot, baby! Fly picks that shit up and begins reading an article about his upcoming statue. Who else can’t wait until that bad boy is finished? Anyway, he gets interrupted about halfway through the article by a 50-something year old ginger man staring down at him.
Fly: Uh…can I help you creepy stalker dude?
Alec: I got a page that said you wanted to meet with me.
Fly: You’re Alec? That can’t be right, where’s your glorious mustache…and why did you dye your hair?
Alec: That’s ALEX Trebek, not Alec. Plus, not all Alex’s have big bushy mustaches.
Fly: Well, they should. This is like meeting a Michael Jordan that isn’t black and doesn’t have six championship rings.
Giant sigh from Alec, the non-mustache, non-Alex, ginger version.
Alec: Was there something you wanted to discuss, or did you just come here to ridicule my name and/or lack of mustache?
Fly: I wanted to talk to you to about your daughter, Sarah Twilight.
Alec: I probably should sit down for this.
Alec takes a seat in a chair next to Fly.
Fly: I really need to know where she is. Would you happen to know where I can find her?
Alec: I’m afraid I don’t know where she is. We don’t exactly keep up with one another. Why are you looking for her?
Fly: I’m pregnant with her unborn child.
Shocked gasp confusion face.
Fly: What? It’s as believable as the last story I told.
No response. Just confusion.
Fly: Look, are you sure you don’t know where she is? Would you know of anyone else who might know where she is? It’s really important that I…’hook up’…with her.
Alec: Well, hell, I suppose it won’t hurt to give you her sister’s phone number. She’ll know where Sarah is. Her sister’s name is Rachel. You can reach her on her cell phone, 310-236-**** (number is protected because god forbid Eric Price gets a hold of that shit).
Fly: Thanks! You’ve been a lot of help.
Fly and Alec rise to their feet and shake hands.
Alec: Good luck with the baby.
…
Fly: Uh….right.
Anyway, Fly peace’s out of this place. Standing outside near the front door he pulls out his phone and begins dialing Rachel’s number. He puts the phone on speaker so that we can hear the conversation.
Rachel: Hello?
Fly: Rachel! How are you, babe?
Rachel: What? Who is this?
Fly: Jonny Fly, did you not recognize my melodic voice?
Rachel: I’ve never talked to you. What do you want?
Fly: I’m calling about your sister. You see, we share the same doctor and he violated HIPPA laws earlier today and told me that poor Sarah is suffering from a disease called Galactorrhea and…
Rachel: Wait, WHAT? Sarah is sick?
Fly: Yeah! Galactorrhea, it’s the spontaneous flow of milk from the nipple as a result of excessive prolactin. It’s very dangerous, and usually pretty embarrassing. The point is that I’m in Los Angeles right now trying to find her because I bought her a giant get well soon card, fruit basket, and breast pump. You wouldn’t happen to know where she is would you?
Rachel: Sarah is in New York. She’s doing Letterman tonight.
Fly: Wait…DOING…Letterman?
Rachel: Why did you say it like that? Are you making a sexual reference?
Fly: I don’t remember. Hey, Letterman wouldn’t be codename for her having sex with a black guy who resembles a pimp, would it? He may or may not have a feather in his cap and be wearing telletubbie colors…
Rachel: She’s APPEARING on the David Letterman show tonight. She flew in to New York earlier this morning.
Fly: SONOFABITCH, I flew in to L.A. this morning looking for her! The good news is that motherfucker Steve Orbit won’t know she’s back in New York and I can get the jump on him…and Twilight, literally in her case…
Rachel: …what are you talking about?
Fly: Hey, hold up, I have another call.
Click.
Fly: What a dumb slut. It looks like I better head back to New York.
Like a phantom, Jonny Fly disappears into his cab en route to the airport to make haste back to New York City. Our scene comes to a close.
[Scene Ends]
