Anonymous Job Search by Brendan Mcloughlin

Unemployment is a bitch. Wait. Not a bitch. A super ugly, bitch—in heat…that’s drunk, wants sex and verbally abuses you in front of friends and family. It can leave anyone feeling dejected , hopeless and demoralized.

Luckily, there’s still one place left to try.

If you have problem finding a job, if no one else is hiring and you can find them. Maybe you can get hired by The A…nonymous Team.

This plea brought to you by Brendan Mcloughlin. He has a blogs the shit out of comedy on his here. Check him out.

Elton, a steamy sexual dynamo, is a comedy writing loser from Pennsylvania. He’s the author of several failed attempts at books, cartoons and occasionally writes articles at Funnyordie for Will Ferrell to ignore. You can check out more of his pants shittingly funny mumbling at Elton Says Things (his super tits blog!) What that means…he doesn’t even know.

Being your average, ordinary everyday bad ass, I have used many a bathroom in my time. Be it for the intricacies of wash closet architecture or for secluded enclaves to woo buck toothed hookers, I’ve enjoyed them all, in one way or another. Though, mostly for pissing, shitting …and prostitutes.

Sometimes, I’ve even enjoyed the pleasantries of an outdoor commode experience and it’s life lessons. It’s a rare but, one that must be done and goes along with being a man of superior stock. One of overwhelming bad assedness, such as myself, must shirk the obligations of pleasuring beautiful women, being admired by common men and punching non-coolness in it’s dick from time to time, in order to maintain a high level of excellence. A short sabbatical into the wilderness is a great venue to flex both my daunting wit and brawn. Plus, women love the shit out of burly, sweaty guys chopping wood…stuff with tents around. It’s why lumberjacks get so much ass. Even the ugly ones.

It was during such an excursion that I learned something peculiar, about both nature and my fellow man—and what an unfeeling bastard he can be.

Night falls quickly in the woods, and as I was finishing my hike to my campsite, dusk was sapping the sky of it’s daylight. So, I had just enough time to pitch a tent (non-boner type) and make camp. Night was falling and I worked to build a fire, when, suddenly, the urge to take a HUGE dump consumed me. Rather than panic and shit in a bucket or cup, I proceeded as nature intended; squatting in brush, swatting away bugs…and straining.

Brooks Brothers cargo shorts around my ankles, I had just assumed the position, when I heard a low growl. My cat like ninja reflexes and years of outdoor experience kicked into gear. Deftly, I abandoned my shorts and ran screaming, like a man…in a high pitched fashion and flailing my arms, while repeating, “God, please, don’t let it eat my balls! I love my balls!”.

Racing in a ziggy-zagging route, I jumped upon the first tree my manly tear soaked eyes could focus on. I scrambled up and clung for dear life. Between manly sobs, I relaxed, but, not for long. Below, a bear had appeared and was gnashing it’s teeth and clawing up at me. It let out a deafening roar. My years of experience rushed to my aid. I knew what had to be done. I yelped in a manly, crying tone and voided my bowels…right in it’s angry, furry, bastard bear face. Needless to say…it was a little confused. Chuffing and grunting, it dropped to the ground swiping at it’s face and instinctively licking…and wishing it hadn’t.

The sound of a rifle cracked in the air. A dart struck the shitty bear in it’s neck. It moaned and slumped down and began breathing heavily. Looking down, a forest ranger had entered the clearing. He, with a confused look that rivaled the bears, walked over to the tree I was in. We looked at each other for a moment. He with his rifle, me naked from the waist down. Suddenly, he broke the awkward silence. “Did you…shit on that bear?”

I learned two very important pieces of advice that day. One: bears don’t understand what’s happening when a human shit hits their face. If you can shit, directly on their face, you might escape. Two: Never trust a forest ranger with a “shitting on a bear” secret! They don’t have a “ranger-client confidentiality agreement” They just (laughingly) tell other rangers about your bear shitting activities. BE WARNED!…the bastards.

Elton, a steamy sexual dynamo, is a comedy writing loser from Pennsylvania. He’s the author of several failed attempts at books, cartoons and occasionally writes articles at Funnyordie for Will Ferrell to ignore. You can check out more of his pants shittingly funny mumbling at Elton Says Things (his super tits blog!) What that means…he doesn’t even know.

The Creators of “Honey Boo Boo”- What the fucking fuck, TLC?!?! WHAT THE FUCKING, FUCK?! You do realize you are “The Learning Channel” right?

My Facebook Newsfeed – ick.

Email’s from Papa John’s – Stop it Papa John’s. Just stop it! Stop whispering those sweet nothings into my ear… your charm and extensive selection of hearty sausages has no effect on me anymore!

Vince Vaughn - I… I… I don’t like you.

2012 Political Election Coverage -  I…I…I didn’t like you.

This Girl -  She’s talking to her parole officer FYI….oh, and she has a FUCKING CHILD!

Whoever was the douche that fired Dan Harmon (Creator of “Community”) - Seriously?! Community is fucking amazing but you think the best thing to do is fire it’s fucking creator and bring it back mid-season on a Friday night slot?! It’s like you don’t want to make money, NBC…like, ever.

Adam Levin’s tattoos - ick.

People that have expendable incomes – shut up.

Inventors of boxed wine – Hah. I’m just shitting you. Y’all the best!

Slutty but Funny

Natalie Wall likes to think she is a female comedian but the reality is she’s a NYC girl trying to make it big. If she’s not writing in her blog, Awkward Sex and the City, she’s spraying vanilla icing on a mini donut or thinking of ways to kill Dora from Dora the Explorer. Help her, humor her and fall in love with the pale pasty princess straight out of Compton (not really).

The holidays usually grind my teeth to a dull point for the usual reasons: long lines to buy crap I can’t afford, enduring the endless surgery stories from people who may or may not be my distant relatives, the fact that everyone around me appears happy and cheery at all times. The one bright spot of my holidays is that the long, insufferable year begins to finally draw its last breaths. It gives me a chance to say a long, loud goodbye to all the people, policies and protoplasm masquerading as people who made the world a less grander place.

- Rick Santorum
It was very hard to narrow down the douchiest from the roster of douchebags who vied for the chance to have their ass handed to them by President Barack Obama in 2012. They were a “Who’s Who?” of “Who Sucks?” in today’s all or nothing political climate. Santorum, however, was the frosty, white cream of the crap heap both figuratively and by the very definition of his name (apologies to those of you who are eating or engaging in gay sex while reading this). When his time came to be the frontrunner of the GOP primary’s quest to find the most plausible candidate who isn’t named Mitt Romney, he couldn’t have fired up the right wing base more if he took a flamethrower to them at an NRA rally. He used his God given talent to divide and permanently disgusted face to take down groups and issues that were getting too meddlesome like women, pro-choice people, homosexuals and health care that prevents people from dying from easily treatable conditions. Then when he ran out of things to hate, he alone made the use and coverage of contraception an issue, a debate settled so long ago that even the characters on “Mad Men” stopped discussing it. Even after his party’s massive losses, he continued to reach for the spotlight by speaking out against something that shouldn’t even be up for debate: the adoption of a UN treaty that calls for universal disability standards based on the Americans with Disabilities Act. The very idea that this walking bag of pomposity has an ounce of relevance left makes me wish there was a Mayan apocalypse so we wouldn’t have to witness the influence he’ll try to wield in 2013 to demand that fetuses pay their fair share of taxes and the elderly stop insisting that everyone else pay for the oxygen they breathe whether it comes out of a tank or the sky.

- Donald Trump
My goal was to limit this year-end diatribe to just one politician and thankfully Donald Trump isn’t one. That’s not just good for myself. It’s good for the nation, the world and the universe as a whole assuming there are alien life forces on the far reaches of the galaxy who are trying to get as far away from Earth as they can so the thing on Trump’s head doesn’t eat them. He may not have officially run for office but he tried like hell to be something much more powerful and dangerous: a lobbyist. And normally, people who lobby on behalf of the mentally deficient are actually doing good work unless the lobbying they are doing is to meet their crazy demands like proof that the President got good grades in college or has a valid American birth certificate. Every time this bloviated fat head opened his mouth, the media ate it up with a big wooden, cooking spoon. He injected us with more hype than an “Indiana Jones” sequel and released “bombshells” that could be less important if they included a step by step cure for shingles and in the end, it was all to promote some dumb reality show that lets celebrities have knife fights over what kind of pizza they should order for dinner. I’m not a religious man but if there is a Hell, there is a special place in it for Trump with a job as a janitor in one of his bankrupt casinos.

- Honey Boo Boo
This one was a real no-brainer. It was also an easy choice to make for the biggest douchebags of 2012. This egotistical toddler accomplished something that no one thought was possible: She helped TLC reach a new low. Her reality TV stardom made it OK for people to hate on children for the first time since “Webster” hit the airwaves. This wasn’t just a case of another annoying celebrity trying to wedge a meaningless catchphrase into the American lexicon by shoving it into our brains with a potato masher. It was a total mental breakdown of the nation’s collective conscience. A record number of people actually found entertainment in watching a family of carb-consuming monsters find happiness in letting the world revolve around their demanding, egotistical spotlight whore. Sometimes I wonder if Congress’ attempt to dismantle the “Head Start” program isn’t a power hungry grab to convert those funds into increasing abstinence education. It’s a way to prevent us from turning into the movie “Dumbocracy.”

Danny Gallagher is a freelance writer, humorist and reporter and a regular contributor to TruTV’s “Dumb as a Blog“, Playboy’s “The Smoking Jacket“, MTV’s Clutch and the Shadowbox Comedy Theater of Columbus. His humor and feature writing has also appeared in Aol’s TVSquad.com and Asylum.com, Spike.com, Esquire Magazine, Cracked.com, Mental Floss Magazine, The Christian Science Monitor, Chicago Tribune’s “Redeye,” The Austin American-Statesmen and The Center for the Easily Amused. He doesn’t shower much.

Katt Williams, goes drugged up nuts at concerts and then slaps a K-Mart employee while running from the police.

Rupert Murdoch, phone tapping extraordinaire takes down a media institution with stupidity.

Jerry Sandusky, the Penn State asst. coach for molesting kids via a childrens charity.

Mel Gibson, loses his shit and screams at a writer, in front of a 15 year old kid.

Dish Network, for taking out its legal tantrums out on its own customers by cutting AMC from it’s line up.

2012 Olympic Judges, for robbing South Korean female fencer Shin Lam of a chance at a gold medal, because they don’t understand that clocks break.

The Mayans, ending their calendar in a year that has — not only the internet and television — but, is populated by psychics, psuedo-experts and mid-western apocalypse wackos, all of whom can type and make videos.

Disney, after they stripped a cartoon princess of her Latin heritage.

Todd Akin, kills the Republican party and gives the world one of its most absurd pop culture phrases to date with his “legitimate rape” comment.

Mitt Romney insults 47% of the American public…and still thought he’d win the election.

Chik-Fil-A, gives homophobes an official chicken sponsor.

Nakoula Basseley Nakoula, for making a film so bad it drove Muslims to murder.

Kenneth Krause, for fat-shaming a newscaster via email, then saying he didn’t when she calls him out on t.v.

Elton, a steamy sexual dynamo, is a comedy writing loser from Pennsylvania. He’s the author of several failed attempts at books, cartoons and occasionally writes articles at Funnyordie for Will Ferrell to ignore. You can check out more of his pants shittingly funny mumbling at Elton Says Things (his super tits blog!) What that means…he doesn’t even know.

Thanksgiving is here again! Oh, the joy of celebrating the pilgrims of yore, quashing a turkey uprising and feeding on their bodies in triumphant feasting. God bless meat eating America! So, in celebration, you’ve prepared a feast fit for a fat, unhealthy king. The table is set, family and friends are arriving and you feel like it’s safe to retreat to the bathroom and sob in quiet, desperate misery until the whole thing’s over, but, wait…there’s a problem…Ohhhh, you should have gotten…

6. More Damned Chairs 

Stupid chairs. It’s always something isn’t it? Everything is perfect, until people start sitting down. Then, the chairs fill up and those left standing look around, helplessly, for space to plant their asses. Studies show that people take there asses everywhere they go, and like to sit on them from time to time. Unfortunately, your house has enough seating for you and yours, not them and theirs. What the hell can you do? These people are screaming internally and secretly voting you “Years Biggest Asshole”! Something will be done and it’s either, these pricks eat standing up or it’s the floor for Aunt Flo and Grandpa Flat Ass.

The Solution: Pick up some folding chairs from a Wal-Mart type of store, home improvement place or steal them from an auditorium with a loose security policy. While you’re there, you might think about a small fold up card table. It’ll help keep elderly people from piling plates on your stereo, Xbox or porn magazine laden end tables. The damned heathens.

5. An Electric Knife

What the hell do I need that for? I have regular NON-electric knives. Why spend the money? Sure, that’s perfectly sound logic. It’ll work well for you too, as you’re sweating out three weeks worth of water intake onto a now mutilated turkey, mutter obscenities within earshot of Granny. Why use the knife at all? Gouge at the turkey with your bare, unwashed claws Captain Caveman? 

The Solution: Buy an electric knife. It makes the job of carving up a turkey a thousand times easier and a million times cleaner. Plus, they’re cheap, which saves money for anti-depressants and hobbies…like, amateur dentistry. Besides, hacking away at the bird, just urges onlookers to wonder if you’re secretly wishing it was them you were sawing at. Wouldn’t it be better if they found that out later, when you creep into their bed room at night? Duh.

4. More Whipped Cream

 Wonderful, wonderful whipped cream, as it happens, is not just for sex any more. People put it on pies and desserts, if you can believe that. “Oh, but, I’ve already bought some.”, you say. Well, that’s it then, you’ve got it handled. Good for you! You have all you need. Wrong. Everyone loves whipped cream and often use pie as an excuse to eat seven pounds worth of it. You don’t have enough.

The Solution: Whatever amount you bought, buy twice that. Whipped cream is the reason why pies were invented. People before pies, had no reason to validate slapping fists full of whipped cream in their faces. Now, they do and will do…a lot. If you have any left over after Thanksgiving (you won’t), you can always use it for other things, like, whippits or slathering it on body parts, like God intended.

3. Cheap Booze

The holidays are a time not only for joy, but, getting shit faced as well. So, imbibing yourself into a sloppy mess is expected, especially at Thanksgiving. In fact, booze is one of the things we’re usually thankful for. Besides, is there a better way to air a family’s dirty laundry and chastise loved ones, other than via wine laced confessions and sweeping accusations? We think not. Alas, as popular as getting tanked is, there’s never enough alcohol to go around.

The Solution: Beer. It’s cheap, plentiful and will fulfill even a hardened drunk’s liquid appetite. Pick up some cheap stuff, it’ll show that you care…but, not that much.

2. Kids Movies 

When inviting family and friends to share in Thanksgiving means you’ll be spending the time with people you mostly like…and their noisy kids. Relentless, sugar fueled kids. They’re needy and demanding. You might have to put down your gin and tonic multiple times just to help them find the bathroom. It’s tiring stuff. A great way to offset their constant wanting of things is television. Kid’s love t.v., especially movies. They’re are a great way to keep whiney children at bay and relieve adults of the itchy shackles of responsibility. All too often, however, movies that are readily available aren’t always kid friendly. This is double for households that don’t usually harbor children. Finding something they like among regular DVD’s can be a hassle. Their attention is rarely captivated by “gripping docu-dramas” involving pregnant midgets, The Office or Goodfellas, as mafia murder plots are almost always outside of their wheelhouse of understanding. What the hell can you do?

The Solution: Redbox, a movie rental vending machine, can deliver semi-new and new release DVD entertainment for around dollar a movie. Use the internet for something other than Facebook, Wikipedia and porn involving Wikipedia to locate one. It beats explaining why an underwear clad Joe Pesci is getting the shit beat out of him with a bat, to a fear screaming 6 year old that just pissed their pants.

1. Microwavable Crap

 Among other things, Thanksgiving wreaks havoc on a budget. Plus, it’s exhausting. The preparing, cooking and eating takes hours, if not a whole day and all the people wandering around in a zombie like haze doesn’t help. Afterward, you’re sick of turkey, at least for the time being and you’re so bloated from it, you don’t want to move…for days. The next day, the refrigerator is clogged solid with the remnants of the feast. Sure, you’re hungry, but, dammit, MORE turkey? You might be toying with the idea of throwing up on yourself for thinking about turkey’s sweet white meat. Should you starve?

The Solution: Pick up frozen microwave meals while you’re over filling your cart with Thanksgiving’s tasty burdens. You might not want it now, but, the day after…a pizza is a nice alternative to reliving the day.

We hope this helps in some small way to alleviate the juicy pain that is Thanksgiving. If it doesn’t, there’s no one to blame but, yourself…and maybe Joe Pesci.

Elton, a steamy sexual dynamo, is a comedy writing loser from Pennsylvania. He’s the author of several failed attempts at books, cartoons and occasionally writes articles at Funnyordie for Will Ferrell to ignore. You can check out more of his pants shittingly funny mumbling at Elton Says Things (his super tits blog!) What that means…he doesn’t even know.

 Paul Mooney & the PMJ (Paul Mooney Jr) brand wasn’t the initial inspiration to creating Black Bull Entertainment, though it became the catalyst for me in understanding the importance in doing so.  In 2005, I began to option my ideas within the Hollywood entertainment circuit to various studios, directors and production companies and quickly realized I had to protect and legitimize my work.  After developing, producing, writing and editing each PMJ show (and then seeing the response from my followers), it became clear that I needed to formalize the work I created.

But when it comes to my comedic writing –  yes, I’m certainly inspired by the quick witt, racial and political rants of the legend that is Mooney, and for me as an actor he was the inspiration to challenge me to increase my range.

2.) Mooney based much of his material around race issues around the world. Some audiences find this controversial. Is this something that you feel strongly about and want to express in your own material? Why or why not?

Oh yeah!  When creating “The Weekend Update with Paul” parody I wanted to address the up’s and down’s of Pop Cultural in the vain of a younger Mooney that grew up in the 80′s. But I’m no Mooney especially when it comes to his writing genius so I wanted the performance to fill in the gaps.

3.) Eddie Murphy, Richard Pryor and Redd Foxx all had stand up material either written, ghost written or contributed to by Mooney. He continues to make waves as a Stand-up in his own right. As an influence, have you ever been inspired to perform stand-up? If so, how does it suit you compared to sketch work?

I have to say that I’ve never had the urge to do stand-up.  I’m a born/trained actor not comedian and you have to be born a comedian.  That’s why the real comedians run in a small circle watching actors playing stand up. I respect the art too well to play stand-up.

4.) How did other sketch/online comedy influence you? Were there specific teams, companies, shows or organizations that you followed to help you develop your own specific comedic tastes? How did they shape your comedy palate?

The influence that I’ve drawn from other sketch/online comedies were how to make the show better.  There is so much I’ve learned in the past year about the web series structure, filming, sound, when to post, not to spam.  And partnering with good people in the industry and fellow channels like the Comedy Shaq Network always helps.

5.) Much of sketch comedy is born on a stage, performing live. Have you ever brought “The Weekend Update” to a live performance stage? In your opinion, what are the advantages and disadvantages of performing live versus releasing online content?

I haven’t delivered our show in a live platform, but I do see that the PMJ show could go live like a SNL skit.  And one day i’d like to do that and laugh my ass off to see how it turns out.  But for right now I like the controlled environment of a studio where we can run as many takes as possible to get it right which is the greatest advantage to releasing online content.  With live performance, I would think the greatest disadvantage would be the potential to jeopardize the authenticity of PMJ as it is now.  I read an article featuring Issa Rae, the creator of “Awkward Black Girl,” where she was very candid in describing her concern to maintain the unique qualities of her show and it’s fan base should it be translated to a network platform since there’s always the risk for it to become watered-down; I share the same concern for the PMJ brand on a live platform.

6.) The Youtube channel alone has currently amassed nearly 30,000 hits. Given its popularity, where would you like to see “The Weekend Update,” “Paul Mooney Jr.” and Black Bull Entertainment go from here? What is on the horizon for your creative comedic endeavors?

Having 360,000 total hits for the PMJ and BBE channels combined, I think we have a great creative team that is only getting better.  Currently,  we are working to create more web based content that targets a direct transition to network television which is a definitive goal for our team in 2013. As for our creative comedic endeavors, I tend to write for specific comedians in mind and would love the opportunity to work with them, including DL Hughley, Mike Epps and Gary Owens.  Finally, as for the future of PMJ, to be honest I created PMJ as a weekly audition to portray Mooney’s legend in a biopic and that will continuously be my focus until I’m casted!

Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/paulmooneyjr
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/PaulMooneyJr
Youtube: http://www.youtube.com/user/blackbullent

Justin Morgan

Justin Morgan is a comedy nerd & comedian who was initially trained in musical, dramatic and improvisational theatre. He utilizes his education along with a wealth of pop culture knowledge, love of jokes and unique storytelling ability to craft his stand-up act. His peers named him “Best New Comedian” in 2009 and the “Biggest Asset To The Atlanta Comedy Community” two years in a row. Recently he’s stepped away from behind the scenes work to focus on performing after his recent move to New York.

Being your average, ordinary everyday bad ass, I have used many a bathroom in my time. Be it for the intricacies of wash closet architecture or for secluded enclaves to woo buck toothed hookers, I’ve enjoyed them all, in one way or another. Though, mostly for pissing, shitting …and prostitutes.

Be that as it may, situations occur that fall outside of the happiest of pissing, shit and sex working awesomeness. There are times of heroism and valor that scare the shit out of you and bring out the testosterone fueled Hercules that lies buried, dormant beneath the cool exterior of one’s handsome good looks. By that stuff…I mean…me and by times I mean, the day I pissed my way onto the super hero, anti-terrorism world stage!

It was during a banquet I was attending at the Swedish consulate in Washington D.C. I was invited to the banquet as a “thank you” for securing the latest “50 Shades of Grey “installment, six months before it’s release (don’t ask). I would have graciously declined, but, who am I to turn down free expensive booze and food in weird sauces?

The night was soaked in mixed drinks, nondescript old guys, ugly rich women and expensive pretty ones. I, of course, was fending them off the best I could. Having my fair share of champagne, I adjourned to the bathroom to “donate my liquid assets” (that’s code for “taking a whiz”).

I had finished and was washing my hands when, a man joined me at the sink. A nice suit, clean hair cut and a striking jaw line, he looked to be a late twenties to mid-thirties business type. I could have mistaken him for a model of some sort, but, you know…I wouldn’t know, ‘m not gay and stuff. I’m woman humping straight.

So, the hot guy washed his hands beside me. Then, addressing me in a confident, deep, manly super model tone he said, “Sorry about the funk in here, my man. I had to drop a bomb, know what I mean?”. “Uh, wha-what, I’m sorry, I was mesmerized by your exquisite jaw line and what looks to be an finely tailored suit stretched over your Adonis like biceps, could you repeat that?”, I heterosexually responded.

“Uh…I’m sorry about the bomb I left in the toilet.”, he said with a hint of embarrassment.

I blankly stared into his dazzling blue eyes for a moment, the alcohol dulling my usually lightning fast response time. “You left a bomb in the toilet?”

“Yeah, sorry about that, the smell–”

Using my cheetah like reflexes, I punched him in the face.

“OW! What the hell? You punched me?!”

I had little time to waste. I wrestled him to the floor. Spotting the bathroom attendant who, until now, was transparent…apparently. I yelled to him, “Get the police or Homeland Security guy! I’ll keep this terrorist distracted and disarm the bomb!”

“Terrorist?! Who’s a terrorist?” interjected the still conscious terrorist. “Shut your infidel hating face!”, I shouted and struck his nose repeatedly. “Sir!”, the attendant interjected, “Sir! Stop!”. With the would be bomber pinned, I turned to him, “Sir, that’s a senator from Maine!”.

I learned two things that night. One, apologizing profusely after beating a senator will never get you out of a tasing and two, senators do accept apologies, but, only after getting a turn at tasing you.

My advice: Always be sure the person you’re accusing of terrorism isn’t an elected official with the shits. You’ll likely end up with electrical burns on your nipples if you don’t.

Elton, a steamy sexual dynamo, is a comedy writing loser from Pennsylvania. He’s the author of several failed attempts at books, cartoons and occasionally writes articles at Funnyordie for Will Ferrell to ignore. You can check out more of his pants shittingly funny mumbling at Elton Says Things (his super tits blog!) What that means…he doesn’t even know.

http://www.youtube.com/user/PapayaBrosComedy/videos

Comedy Rants  columnist Justin Morgan had finished basic training at the Upright Citizens Brigade Training Center in New York, and was just accepted into the advanced sketch writing program. He was working television production on the IFC show “Bunk” with some funny people and they decided to get together under a common moniker and make a company … KOKOMO was born.

This sketch, Sully, wound up being kind of a sudden thing. They had booked the Creek and The Cave, an indie comedy venue in Long Island City, for a much more complex sketch but at the last minute several cast members couldn’t make it. So Justin sat down and wrote a character sketch that could fit their setting. It wasn’t written conventionally. But that’s part of the charm.