The Awful Security Guard

It's the Day's Day of Days! Because make the pie higher!

And now, a brief sketch--the Awful Security Guard.

A house lays burning in the background. Whitey McCracker , a fat man in a security guard outfit is cheerfully chatting with John and Jane Q. Public , both weeping and covered in soot and blood. Jane is lying on the ground.

WHITEY: Well, golly, Mr. Public, are you sure Mr. Tree did this? He seemed like such a nice fellow.

JOHN: Yes! He assaulted my wife, stole our belongings, and burnt down our house. Why the hell did you let him in?

WHITEY: He seemed like a nice guy! I think you're mistaken. It couldn't be Mr. Tree. Just couldn't be.

JANE: (bursts out crying) Oh, God John ! We've lost everything!

JOHN: I know, Jane. I know. Just--try to stay calm.

JANE: My--legs. John--my legs are getting cold.

JOHN: I think I hear the ambulance coming.

The ambulance rolls up. Out comes Dr. Mbutu, a black man, with a team of paramedics.

MBUTU: All right where is the patient...?

Whitey scowls, and raises his pistol.

WHITEY: Stop right there! And put your hands where I can see them!

MBUTU: Wha--there's a wounded patient here...

Whitey shoots Mbutu.

WHITEY: HA! Think I'm fallin' for that ol' trick? You clearly are a white slaver who wants to take Mrs. Public back to Darkest Africa and make her a sex slave.

Mbutu lying bleeding on the ground, stares at him, baffled.

MBUTU: I'm a DOCTOR! This woman needs TREATMENT! If I don't help her she might DIE! And you--SHOT ME!

WHITEY: Heh. A likely story.

JOHN: Whitey! Please! He's telling my truth. My wife is in trouble thanks to you, and NOW YOU WON'T EVEN LET ME HELP HER!

WHITEY: 'Nuff of your sass.

Whitey pistolwhips him, causing John to collapse on the ground. Whitey strikes a pose as behind the fire spreads.

WHITEY: I'm keeping this place safe from all the bad folks who would destory it. So if any of you damned white van people take another step, I'll blow your fucking head off.

A jaunty tune begins.

VOICEOVER: Whitey--Whitey McCracker--Republican Security Guard!

WHITEY: Thank you, magic voice man!

VOICEOVER: No problem, Whitey!