Sometime early next year, 2024, I'll have a book published that is mostly a collection of short things. It's the second such book. 2017's "Funny Sexy Nanobots" was the first. It is NOT one of my most successful books.. I've had successful books, so I can feel humble and comfortable admitting this. "Funny Sexy" (as I think of that book privately) has not exactly been a best seller.
It's a book close my heart, though. It collects many pieces from the first five years of this blog and mixes them in with earlier short things I wrote, and then finishes up with a story called, "The Salvador Deli." No one reviewed the book, although my friend and sometimes co-worker Ross Denyer told me in no uncertain terms that "The Salvador Deli" was "Fantastic," and talked about turning it into a movie for a while ('for a while' meaning that he stopped talking about it when he realized I wasn't going to help him turn it into a movie, because I had other things I was more intent on doing at the time).
So here comes Simple Displeasures collection #2; Death And Saxophones. It collects the years of this blog (minus these 'sneak peeks') since Funny Sexy, and includes another old thing I wrote, this time a comedy screenplay I did back in my twenties called....you guessed it...Death And Saxophones.
So...here is a sneak peek, a section from a few scenes in.
Wealthy Beverly Hills bigwig TV producer Wille Benson has died. "Death....and saxophones," were his final words. Here's hoping this scenes makes sense and gives some tiny indication of the style of comedy I was trying for at the time.
INT. NIGHT. DOWNSTAIRS HALL.
HALF HOUR LATER.
A policeman is talking to a
doctor. The body is being wheeled out the door on a stretcher.
POLICEMAN:
Everything’s on the level, then?
DOCTOR:
Yes, yes, no foul play.
POLICEMAN:
I guess that’ll be it, then.
DOCTOR:
If it’s alright, I’d like to stay and talk
to the family for a minute.
POLICEMAN:
Okay, I’ll take off, though. See ya.
DOCTOR:
Goodbye.
Policeman leaves. The doctor
goes toward the sitting room, where the family is gathered.
INT. SITTING ROOM.
CONTINUOUS.
The doctor enters. Mitzi is
sitting in a chair, touching herself up with makeup. Suzy has on sweats and
is on the floor stretching. Alan is sitting at a computer off to the side of
the room. Robert and Marsha are wearing tutus and practicing ballet together.
We hear Winfred outside, hammering together the construction of the new house
extension. The doctor puts a hand on Mitzi’s shoulder.
DOCTOR:
I’m so sorry.
MITZI:
Hm? About what?
DOCTOR:
That your husband died.
MITZI:
Oh, that…
MARSHA:
How is he, Doctor? Is he going to be okay?
DOCTOR:
Uh, no. I’m afraid not. Death is
something very few people bounce back from.
MARSHA:
Bummer.
DOCTOR:
I’m wondering. I hope I’m not imposing on
you too much – could you tell me what his last few hours were like?
He puts pen to notepad, ready
to take notes.
MITZI:
Just a quiet evening at home. We watched
the pilot of the new show he produced; “Bikini Cops,” then we changed clothes
several times, and went to bed.
DOCTOR:
Uh huh. Did he say anything unusual
during all this? Did he seem odd at all?
MITZI:
Well, let’s see. He did mention at one
point that he thought he would probably die tonight.
The doctor is disinterested
in this.
DOCTOR:
Uh huh. Anything else? Anything unusual?
ALAN:
Isn’t that unusual?
DOCTOR:
No, no. We get that all the time. IF you
had any idea how many people claim they’re going to die at some particular time –
ALAN:
But he did die, tonight! After he said he
would.
DOCTOR:
Look! Who’s the doctor here, anyway?
ALAN:
You do know the cause of death, don’t
you.
DOCTOR:
Oh, yes, yes, of course.
ALAN:
Well…
DOCTOR:
Well, what?
ALAN:
How did he die?
The doctor’s mind is
obviously racing.
DOCTOR:
He…he, uh, was…gored, by a, by….by a woodchuck.
ALAN:
What?
ROBERT:
Oh, what a way to go!
ALAN:
How could he have been gored by a woodchuck?
DOCTOR:
It happens very rarely, but when it does, death is instantaneous.
ALAN:
Are you absolutely positive this is how
he died?
DOCTOR:
Well, not absolutely.
ALAN:
Are you certain that a woodchuck was
involved at all?
DOCTOR:
Well, one might have been.
ALAN:
Do you have any idea how he died at all?
DOCTOR:
Not really, no.
ALAN:
Then how can you go around saying he was
gored by a woodchuck? What kind of doctor are you, anyway?
DOCTOR:
Well, I’m not a doctor, really.
MITZI:
Not a doctor!
Gasps from all around.
ALAN:
Then what are you?
DOCTOR:
I’m a writer. Please don’t be mad at me.
I have this film script. All I need is money to make this movie. I swear, it’ll
be great. It’s called, “Surf Boxer.” It has action, adventure, and sex, and –
MITZI:
Get out of this house, you un-wealthy
person. Alan, take him away.
ALAN:
Come on, out you go.
Alan grabs him by the collar
and drags him toward the door.
DOCTOR:
I swear, it’ll be a big hit. All I need is money.
And the door slams in his
face.
Peter Wick
September 14, 2023
