White Knights of the Round Table

INT. UNDERGROUND ROUNDTABLE – NIGHT

A dozen of the nicest guys you’d ever want to meet surround the long, marble table. At the head sits JUDGE MCELROY (65), who strikes his gavel three times.

The white knights quiet down, with some of them even ‘shhhing’ one another.

JUDGE MCELROY

Welcome, white knights.

WHITE KNIGHTS (IN UNISON)

Thank you for having us here, Judge McElroy.

JUDGE MCELROY

Now, as some of you may know, the matter we have come to discuss today plays a serious role in our personal lives. We are here to discuss women, and more importantly, their failure to find themselves attracted to the good guys, meaning us, and their terrible inklings toward bad guys –

Judge McElroy lets out a breath, pulls up a poster of Chris Brown, then points at it in disgust.

JUDGE MCELROY (cont.’)

Like him.

The white knights stick their tongues out, some even shake their heads angrily in disapproval. HAROLD (42), bald and grumpy looking, bangs his fist against the table.

HAROLD

That guy’s a jerk!

Judge McElroy puts the poster on the table. One of the white knights, JERRY (20), picks it up and tries to tear it in two. After failing he crumples it instead.

JUDGE MCELROY

Now, now, gentlemen. Let us not behave as these, quote on quote, ‘bad boys’. We all know that it is not his superior dancing skills that land him the women, nor is it his incredible good looks, as everyone in here is ravishingly handsome, and more than a few of us have achieved high scores on dance dance revolution.

Jerry smacks the table with both hands.

JERRY

What is it then, your honor? Why do women fall for low-lifes like him? I mean, should we really blame everything on the inferior intellect of females?

The room is quiet for a moment, and Judge McElroy appears deep in thought as he slowly spins his gavel on the table.

JUDGE MCELROY (sighing)

No, no. I’m afraid we can’t blame their brains entirely.

HAROLD (35), who is built like an average person, with a decent smile and a half-decent beard, speaks up with the confidence of a math teacher armed with a calculator. He wears a plaid button down and his hair is combed modestly.

HAROLD

I know what it is.

The surrounding knights look at Harold in bewilderment, as though he is about to tell them the secret they have been waiting their entire lives to hear. PROFESSOR SUPER DOUCHE, who has a button pinned to his suspender that says ‘feminist supremacist’, jumps in.

PROFESSOR SUPER DOUCHE

You do?

HAROLD

Yes.

Every knight at the table waits on edge.

HAROLD

Subliminal messages.

The white knights are confused. Judge McElroy sits well over the table.

JUDGE MCELROY

Do elaborate on your theory, sir Harold.

HAROLD

Haven’t any of you ever noticed how he slides his feet, points at his junk, and moves his hips like he’s penetrating one of our females?

The white knights take time to reflect on Chris Brown music videos.

JERRY

He’s does do a lot of that.

HAROLD

Those are all subliminal messages, geared toward sex!

The white knights gasp.

HAROLD

He’s tricking our women into sleeping with him by his overtly sexual dance moves!

The white knights seem so angry they could do something about it. Professor Super Douche throws his glasses at the table. They bounce once then his FRED, who sits across from him.

FRED

Ow.

PROFESSOR SUPER DOUCHE

Sorry.

JERRY

Let me get this straight.

(beat)

Are you saying that, theoretically, if we were to perfect Chris Brown dance moves… women would sleep with us?

The white knights turn their heads to Harold in a flash.

HAROLD

I would never lower myself to that level.

The white knights are discouraged, but politely nod in agreement anyway.

HAROLD

I’ll tell what we should do, though.

(beat)

Training school for ladies.

The white knights are attentive once more.

HAROLD

It’s not going to be like any ordinary school, though. It’s more like a boot camp… No, no, not a boot camp…

Harold stands up. He begins to walk in circles around the room, staring at nothing as he speaks. Inspiration has struck this man! An idea from the heavens, and every white knight is on the edge of their seat, eager to hear it.

HAROLD

Yeah, a training school! Judge McElroy, where did you send your puppy to get properly trained?

JUDGE MCELROY

Dog training.

HAROLD

Yeah, yeah! Like dog training… only, for women. Human women!

Some of the white knights are smiling, laughing even.

PROFESSOR SUPER DOUCHE

Harold, you must be joking.

HAROLD

I’m not though! I’ve never thought so clearly in my entire life…

Harold gets up on the marble table. He paces hurriedly as he speaks, raising his arms even. His smile reaches from ear to ear.

HAROLD

There the women will be taught properly. Every time they look at a man with tattoos and a hairstyle, they will be shocked!

JERRY

With a shock collar?

HAROLD

Exactly! And every time they are complemented politely, or have the door held open for them, or find a man willing to listen, they will be taught to…

Professor Super Douche stands up with vigor.

PROFESSOR SUPER DOUCHE

Give them a blowjob!

The white knights glance disapprovingly at Professor Super Douche, who slowly sits back down.

PROFESSOR SUPER DOUCHE

Sorry.

HAROLD

Every time a good guy does something good for a women, they will be taught to… to tickle his pickle!

The white knights cheer.

PROFESSOR SUPER DOUCHE

How is that different than what I said?

JERRY

Shut up, douche.

JUDGE MCELROY

Say another word I’ll spill your brains on the floor with my gavel, maggot.

PROFESSOR SUPER DOUCHE

Sorry.

JUDGE MCELROY (to Harold)

It’s settled then. Tomorrow night, we begins plans to build this ‘Lady Training School’. The only question left in my mind, Sir Harold, is what shall we call it?

Harold puts his hands to his hips and stares up to the ceiling. He is deep in thought, and clearly on the verge of one last act of genius.

HAROLD

We shall call it…

(beat)

Pickle ticklers.

The white knights nod in agreement. At first only smiles are the only sign of approval, but gradually, and one by one, they begin a slow clap. Harold modestly accepts by smiling and laughing like Paul Rudd.

PROFESSOR SUPER DOUCHE

Great idea, Sir Harold!

Jerry jumps across the table and tackles Professor Super Douche. He beats his ass to the cheerful amusement of everyone.

Fade out.

• Thomas M. Watt

A Day in the Life

Waddup everyone.

Haven’t been on here much, as you can tell my last few post have been posted infrequently.

Getting back into writing, as my former profession has all but come to an end.

I’m interested in a job in the entertainment industry – ideally as a writer, but being an actor would be cool as well. I was just offered $1000 to do a modeling gig, but it didn’t specify whether or not ‘getting raped’ is required. I found the job on craigslist, after all.

Anyway, I’d like to get in the habit of publishing short, 10,000 word stories on Amazon. It seems like a good way to build a following, and also an easy avenue to get my work out there.

The short story I’m currently working on is about a man named Phillip who begins to get a regular visitor in his dreams. This visitor tells Phillip about future events in his life, and uses fear to control Phillip to the point where he becomes no more than a puppet. Phillip races to find the strange man, discover how he has access to his dreams, and justify his own actions before he is placed behind bars.

I’ll keep you updated on my progress – already 1500 words in.

• Thomas