70s Sitcom Chapter 2 (Patreon)

Chapter Two

Cut to Jason on the ledge, arms pressed against the wall, screaming, “I’m afraid of heights!”

Mike is still in the apartment, his head stuck out the window. “Then why did you climb out on the ledge?”

“I didn’t know I was afraid of heights until I climbed out on the ledge!”

Laughter.

“So, come back inside!”

“I can’t!”

“Why not?”

“I’m afraid of heights!”

Laughter.

“So, you are going to stay out there on the ledge, at this great height, just an inch from plunging to your doom, because you are afraid of heights?”

“That pretty much sums it up.”

Laughter.

“That ghost is starting to become more visible,” Mike says, now sitting casually on the ledge. “I can see her gams. She has nice legs.”

“Never mind that. Okay. Okay. This is the heartfelt moment where you talk me back. It shows the depth of our friendship.”

“Is that so?” Mike says, examining his nails. “Well, I guess maybe this isn’t a sitcom, because that isn’t going to happen.”

“Are you going to just leave me out here?” Jason shouts, horrified.

“Nah. I believe in tough love. That Dr. Spock doesn’t know anything.” Mike pulls a box of cream puffs out and holds one in his fingers.

“What are you doing with that?”

“It’s called negative reinforcement.” Mike throws one at Jason’s head.  The creampuff explodes, leaving a splotch of white cream on Jason’s face.

“Ow! Stop that!”

“Not till you get in the apartment.” Another cream puff flies, exploding on Jason’s forehead, leaving another blotch.

“Jerk! I’m gonna get you for this!” Forgetting all about his fear of heights, Jason skitters down the ledge and dives into the apartment window, landing face first in the box of remaining creampuffs.  Jason looks up at camera, only his eyes visible amidst all the cream. He groans, “Disco.”

The audience roars.

CUT TO: Jason washing face. Toweling off. He looks in the mirror and sees the face of the woman is more clear now. She has a classic upflip, the hair framing her face, then curling up on either side, like Anne Marie on “That Girl.”

“She’s pretty cute,” Jason says, trying to touch her ghost face. “Big eyes. Little nose. She actually looks a lot like That Girl.” He makes faces, frowning, barring his teeth, smiling. He moves his hand. “She does everything I do. It’s so freaky deaky.”

Jason stops. Stands up. Slaps himself across the face. “I do NOT say things like freaky deaky!”

Jason goes out to the living room and sees that Mike has the phone on the table. It’s a desktop phone with a long cord that can be carried all around the apartment. “What are you up to?” Jason says. “Not some freaky deaky scheme?”

Laughter.

“I’m going to call the handyman to fix the door.” Mike picks up the phone and dials. “Oh? Hello? Is this Mario? Hi, I’m--”

Click. Mike looks to see Jason has disconnected the call.

“What gives?”

“Calling the handyman is way too complicated. Remember, we have to keep it simple.”

“It seems pretty simple to me.”

“It isn’t. I have a better idea.”

“I’m guessing this one doesn’t involve heights?”

Laughter.

“Haha. Make fun of my phobias. Real nice.”

“So, what’s your simple plan?”

“Well….”

Montage!

Jason trying to pry door open with spatula

Jason tipping couch up, letting it crash against door

Jason throwing his shoulder against door.

Jason karate chopping door, wincing in pain.

Cut to Mike on phone, hand cupped over the receiver, whispering.

Cut to Jason, wearing an Evil Knieval style motorcycle helmet, as far across the room from the door as he can get, in a runner’s stance.

Mike, sitting on the couch, a Virginia Slim in one hand, a magazine on his lap, watches with an amused look on his face. “So, you’re gonna run as fast as you can and smash the door open with your head?”

“Right! Exactly.”

“Well, as they say, knock yourself out.”

Laughter.

“Geronimo!” Jason yells, charging toward the door. Just as he is about to slam into the door, it suddenly swings open and he plunges through, out into the hall. We hear a crash, a shout, a series of crashes and a loud THUMP. Mike winces at each one, while the audience laughs.

Mario the handyman steps through the front door. The audience cheers. He is wearing jeans, a leather vest and a white t-shirt that hugs his muscular frame. His tool belt hangs low on his hips. “Who was that? SHEvil Kneival?”

Laughter.

“That was Jason, my roommate,” Mike says. “Do you think he’s alright?”

Mario peeks out the door. “Yeah, but I wouldn’t hold out much hope for the helmet.”

Laughter.

“Can you fix the door?”

“Yeah. No problem.” Mario eyes Mike. The woman’s image has grown stronger, and he can see a plaid mini-skirt, tight yellow top, and knee length socks. “I can see more than a few things around here I’d like to work on.” After the words “work on” he makes a purring sound.

Mike looks shocked. Does a double-take.  “What the what?” He says in a stage whisper.

The audience chuckles.

Mario starts replacing the door handle. “You know, I am really good with my hands.”

Mike’s eyes get wider and he takes a long drag on his cigarette. “I’m going to go in the other room for no particular reason,” Mike says, just wanting to get away from Mario’s roving eyes. But, just as he is about to leave the room, Jason comes stumbling in, slipping past Mario who is kneeling, putting in a new handle.

Mario looks up at Jason, seems disinterested. “How’s your head,kiddo?”

“Fine. This helmet really saved me.” Jason pulls the helmet off, and shakes his head. We can see the girl shadow’s hair tumble down and swirl as Jason shakes his head.  She has a full on Farah Fawcett.

Mario’s mouth drops open. “Foxy Mama.”

Jason doesn’t even seem to notice. He tucks the helmet under one arm and saunters off. Mario’s eyes follow. He sees a brown tunic dress, nylons, and shapely legs. Most of all he sees, “Cool. She’s so aloof!” He whispers.

Mario gets up, checks the handle. “All good,” he says.

“Thanks,” Mike says, suddenly feeling a little jealous now that Mario’s creepy attention has shifted to Jason. “You saved the day.”

“Well, anytime you-- or your friend-- needs anything, you know how to find me.” Mario wiggles his eyebrows and exits.

Laughter and applause.

Jason is over at the Hi Fi system, looking through the LPs. “Carole KIng,” he says. “Joni Mitchell. “This is all girl stuff.”

“I guess the people who lived here before were girls.”

“Maybe. I just… something is gnawing at me.”

“Oh, great. Another one of your theories. Like opening the door would set us free from this sitcom?”

“Yeah, well, that one wasn’t right.”

“So, what are we supposed to do now?”

“I don’t know.”

The door suddenly slams open and a man smoking a cigar and wearing a black suit steps into the doorway.

“Who are you?” Mike and Jason shout in unison, cowering together.

“Harry Instagliano . I am your landlord! I am stopped by to remind you that your rent is due by the end of the week! I have no tolerance for deadbeats! Pay up, or out on the street you’ll go!”

With that, he turns and leaves, slamming the door behind him.

“What was that?” Mike says.

“A clue,” Jason answers. “On what we’re supposed to do next.”

“Which is?”

“Go to work.”

The camera pulls away as we see NYC and then the Empire State Building.  The end credits roll as we hear the theme song play out:

Guys. Guys just moved to the city

Thinking that life was so pretty

But then they found

Themselves wearing gowns

And it’s heels

And skirts all day

And it’s hands

Just groping away

But somehow these two guys

Will learn to be women

Will learn to be women

Cut to Commericial. Two ladies are squeezing rolls of toilet paper. Mr. Whipple appears and begs them,”Please don’t squeeze the Charmin!”