From 1999 to 2004-ish, I was one of the contributing writers for Garrison Keillor's renowned radio show "A Prairie Home Companion." I learned a lot of things there, mostly how to spell 'prairie." It was a solid gig and I'm proud of my work there. But, like any other job, there were...things...
Another one I forgot. Boy, was reading this a trip. Some of this is lifted from one of my scripts, where my character goes undercover at this really horrible office job with really horrible people (spoiler alert; it was my job and co-workers). And after hearing the pie commercials, I realized it was about horrible things that are eventually made right by eating the pie. So I grafted my bits of office scenes into this. Didn't make the cut, however. And, unless I'm mistaken, it's the only time I tried to do a Bebop-A-Reebop Rhubarb Pie commercial. But even when I was writing for the show, I see that I really wasn't. I had too many characters. the pacing was off. I was writing to amuse myself. Sometimes it worked, sometimes (mostly) it didn't. I'd like to think I'm better at adapting myself to the gig, but I also know the difference when my heart is in it and when it isn't. It's with these kind of sketches I was most disappointed in when they were rejected. I honestly thought that by writing up these mockeries and getting them produced it would break the spell of my tedious job. I tied a lot of faith and hope to these type of writing projects when I set them out, like I really needed them to be picked. I needed them to be produced. I needed them to validate the ill-feelings I had toward my job.
On the bright side, all those co-workers are gone now...
On the bright side, all those co-workers are gone now...
Bebop-A-Reebop Rhubarb Pie
(GK, ED: Ed, T1: Twin 1, T2: Twin 2, HL: Hal)
GK: Tonight's show is brought to you by Beebopareebop Rhubarb Pie. That big promotion finally came through and you're moved to you own desk. No more sharing a cubicle with five other guys for you, no siree.
And you set up your desk with your new stapler and tape dispenser and paper clips, all prepared for your new responsibilities in the service industry.
And there you are sharing an actual room with actual people in a real office setting. Your co-workers seem friendly enough. There's Ed seated behind you, who's quick with the jokes.
ED: Hey, you working hard or hardly working! Ha! Did you hear the weather report in Mexico? Chili today, hot tamale!
GK: And you meet the identical twins who have adjoining cubicles in front of you. And they're always talking and squawking.
T1: Did you feed the cat today?
T2: Of course I fed the cat.
T1: What did you feed it?
T2: The cat food.
T1: Which cat food? From the pouch or the can?
T2: From the can.
T1: Good. She doesn't like the food from the pouch.
T2: That's why I gave her the food from the can.
T1: What? You want a medal for that?
GK: Those crazy twins, always going at it. And there's Hal, in the back, a real ladies man.
HL: Hey, doll, if I told you that you had a nice body, would you hold it against me?
GK: And the days turn into weeks, which turn into months. And you shuffle your papers and push your pencil. But the job has sort of lost its luster. And the promotion turned out to be more of a lateral move. But Ed's still there with the jokes.
ED: Hey, did you hear about Mexico's weather? Chili today, hot tamale!
GK: And the twins are still going at it.
T1: Did you buy the cat food?
T2: Yes, I bought the cat food.
T1: You buy the can or the pouch?
T2: The can kind. The cat doesn't like the pouch.
T1: Don't be a jerk, I know that.
GK: And Hal, frisky as ever.
HL: Honey, after I give you a back rub, can I rub your front next?
GK: And the months pass into a continuous numbing blur. But Ed's always there with a quip.
ED: You working hard or hardly working?
GK: Though, frankly, the line has lost it's spontaneity due to its bi-daily usage. And the twins, well, they're still there, arguing about that cat. That stupid cat.
T1: Did you see the pictures of our cat?
T2: Here's a nice picture of him with his cat food.
GK: And Hal still coming up with those double entendres. Well, actually, you really can't call them "double" entendres because that would imply some sort of subtle second meaning that simply isn't there.
HL: Night, babe, and don't do anything I wouldn't do, unless you want to do it with me!
GK: Yes sir, and you keep right on doing that job, though you have long since realized it's a pointless exercise in tedium. And Ed---
ED: Boy, it's chili today. But it'll be hot tamale! Ha!
GK: Ed's become an annoying jerk who seems to suffer from some sort of Tourette's syndrome which causes him to blurt out inane jokes over and over and over.
ED: Thank God it's Friday, huh?
GK: It's Tuesday, Ed.
ED: That's the joke, get it? Ha!
GK: And you wish a garbage truck or two would back over that damn cat. Or the twins.
T1: The vet just called.
T2: What did he say?
T1: It's about the cat.
T2: I figured it was about the cat.
T1: We have to put the cat on the pouch food.
T2: But he hates the pouch food!
GK: And frankly, that pervert Hal is basically doing stuff around the office that got the President impeached.
HL: Hey, Sugar, one lap, no waiting!
GK: Until finally, you crack from the sheer stupidity of it all. You want to lash out at them, but because of restrictive gun laws all you can do is grab your stapler and shoot staples at them, at them all, until security is called. And you're carried from the office screaming
TR: Look, everyone, I'm hardly working! I'm hardly working! Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!
GK: And as you're taken to that special hospital for observation, you think:
(MUSIC)
Wouldn't this be a good time for a piece of rhubarb pie?
Yes, nothing helps smooth over the rough spots like
rhubarb. Bebopareebop Rhubarb Pie.
But one little thing can revive a guy,
And that is home-made rhubarb pie.
Serve it up, nice and hot.
Maybe things aren't as bad as you thought.
Mama's little baby loves rhubarb, rhubarb,
Beebopareebop Rhubarb Pie.
Mama's little baby loves rhubarb, rhubarb,
Beebopareebop Rhubarb Pie.
