[Chris and Loree are back on their sofa.]
Loree: Hiiee and welcome back to “We’re Richter, Too!” where the laughs never end.
Chris: Unfortunately. It took that stuff forever to get out of my system. Good thing that gas is gone. My sides felt like they actually did split.
Loree: To prevent such things from happening again, we have employed a drug-sniffing dog to search through our mail for contaminants and explosives.
Chris: Doby enjoys drug-sniffing, apparently.
Loree: Almost as much as he enjoys football. Which brings to today’s show. Today we’re showing “Richter Two: Incognito.” It chronicles my first foray into real journalism.
Chris: [slightly sarcastic] I can hardly wait. Hey, Dave. You ready?
Dave: [off camera] Just give the word.
Loree: Roll the tape!
Dave: Switching video feeds in five, four, three, two, one…
[The view changes from Chris and Loree sitting on the sofa to Doby and Loree sitting behind a desk. Both have microphones in front of them and various papers and drinks lay about on top of the desk. Behind them there is a flurry of activity of people dashing about and adjusting various pieces of electronic equipment. Loree and Doby themselves aren’t doing much. They appear to be waiting for something.]
Loree: I can’t wait until we go on air. I’ve never been an announcer before. When does this game start anyhow?
Doby: [sipping a drink] Kickoff is in fifteen minutes. What happened to the guys we replaced anyhow?
Loree: If I remember correctly they made some unflattering remarks about Biff Kingston in the last game. They’re expected to make a full recovery and will be back in a month or so. [noticing the drink] Hey, that isn’t beer is it? There is no way I’m letting you get tanked on air.
Doby: Aw, c’mon. Beer and football are like, uh… beer and pretzels. They’re meant to go together.
Loree: No. I need you sober.
Doby: [surly] Why did you drag me along anyways? I thought you liked that scrawny fox.
Loree: Because you’re the one that actually knows a lot about this game. Chris knows hardly anything about the sport.
Doby: You know anything about football?
Loree: I can fake it.
Doby: [holding his head] I’m going to have to work today, aren’t I?
Loree: You’re just going to be watching football and talking about it. Surely you can handle that.
Doby: Never done it without beer before.
Voice off camera: Get ready! We’re starting in three minutes. We want you to do some opening commentary, and then start your play-by-play when the game starts in another five minutes.
Loree: We understand.
Doby: Sure thing, boss.
[They turn back to each other]
Doby: [picks up his mike] Hows this thing work again?
Loree: Hold the button to talk, like a walky talky.
Doby: Gotcha.
Loree: Nervous, Doby?
Doby: No, but I’m not the one that plans to make a career out of this reporting stuff.
[Loree swallows nervously]
Voices off camera: You’re on in five, four, three, two…
[A red “on air” light turns and all the people in the background hush up and start their tasks.]
Loree: Hi, I’m Loree Weston.
Doby: And I’m Doby Taylor.
Loree: We’re reporting live from Kingston Stadium, for the big football game between the Forrest U Droids and our own DeMontfort Griffons.
Doby: Go Griffons!
Loree: Right, my sentiments exactly. Normally, this game would be a complete cakewalk for our team-
Doby: Hehehe! A football team composed entirely of geeks! None have a GPA less than 3.8! What a joke of a team!
Loree: Yes, the Droids rank consistently in the
bottom of the conference, but today they may have a chance as the Griffons’
starting quarterback, Percival “Biff”
Doby: What!? What happened?
Loree: [flips through papers] According to his RA, he fell and hit the top of his head against the floor multiple times and suffered a concussion.
Doby:
Loree: I agree with you, but the fact of the matter is that Biff isn’t playing today.
Doby: Something fishy is going on. Not that it matters, we can still wipe the floor with Forrest without Biff.
Loree: You’re right. Unfortunately for DeMontfort though, we habitually lose the Mascot Match, which, for better or for worse, has eclipsed the football game itself in importance.
Doby: I don’t know why. A football game is far more entertaining than watching two idiots in costumes chase each other around for those feathers.
Loree: Speaking of which, have you seen the mascots today?
[Doby peers forward, out the window of the press box]
Doby: Hmm, can’t see the Droid, must be running late or outta batteries, wait…found Gruff the Griffon. Wow, they really changed him this year. Dang is he big, twice the size of the old one.
Loree: [peering also] And he appears to be wearing boxer shorts over his costume. Bizarre. Who the hell is that anyway?
Doby: No clue. Wait, one of the cheerleaders just slapped him.
Loree: Could be half the guys in my dorm.
Doby: Here we go, the coaches are together with the ref for the coin toss. Forrest wins, and has elected to receive.
Loree: What do you make of Forrest’s chances, Doby?
Doby: About as good as a newborn bovine in a veal-loving carnivore convention. Look.
[Loree stares out the window]
Loree: Ouch. I didn’t know a duck could bounce like that. Is that legal?
Doby: Probably an accident. Our team is used to dealing with heavier players. Forrest is quickly halted at the 30 yard line. This has all indications of being an easy win for the Griffons.
[Cut to the rest of the Richter-2 crew sitting in the bleachers]
Susan: This is the last time we let Chris get the tickets.
Chris: Hey, this is the best I could do. Do you know how hard it was to convince the ticket guy that we were students? We were lucky to get into the nosebleed section.
[The doe next to
Jen: Yeah! Scrap those droids!
[Chris peers through his own binoculars.]
Chris: That’s a cute vixen down there. Never seen her before.
Dave: Lemme see.
[Chris hands Dave the binoculars]
Dave: No wonder you’ve never seen her before. She must be from Forrest. She’s hanging around with a group of ‘em on the field.
Chris: Nobody’s perfect. Maybe she’s unattached. Not many good-looking vixens in this school.
Dave: Say, didn’t she crash a helicopter into our dorm last week?
Susan: Just like a traitorous fox to fraternize with the enemy. Next thing you know, you’ll be betraying your school to her.
[Jim, behind her, whacks Susan on the back of the head. Chris grins.]
Jim: Hey! None of that. I don’t want to hear anymore racial slurs from you.
Susan: Oh, did I hit a nerve? I had no idea you were such a sensitive foxy-woxy.
Jim: Don’t push me.
Jen: This game is gonna be dull.
Dave: I just came to see how spectacularly our mascot is going to lose this year.
Elsa: That and I like to see what new thing Forrest has done to the Droid suit this year. Do you see it anyvhere, Dave?
Dave: Nope, can’t find it.
[
Jen: No matter how fancy or smart they are, our guys can always just smash through them. It’s too easy.
[Back to the press box]
Loree: [wincing] Ow. That’s the fourth Droid to be carried off the field this quarter. How does Forrest get people to sign up for their team anyway?
Doby: I have no idea how they do it. You’d think they would have run out of capable players by now. Dang! Did you see how far that one flew!?!
Loree: Touchdown Griffons!
Doby: I think I need a drink. I’m going to need to forget ever having seen this.
Loree: And now for the extra point. The kick looks- DID YOU SEE THAT?!? One of the Forrest players hit the ball down in mid-air by flinging his helmet at it!
Doby: That’s something you don’t see every day.
[While Loree is staring out the window, Doby quickly chugs down a beer.]
Loree: Looks like some of our guys are pissed at the clever little droid. Luckily, he’s managed to hide in one of those sport drink coolers.
[Cut to the bleachers.]
[Chris bites into a hotdog and promptly spits it into the crowd in front of him.]
Chris: What the hell do they put into these things? It certainly isn’t meat.
Dave: I’m glad I’m a vegetarian. Never have to deal with mystery meat.
Darryl: Whatever it was, that badger down there doesn’t seem to like you sharing it with him.
Chris: Aw nuts. Excuse me, I have to be going now.
[Chris gets up and dashes down the stairs with an extremely large badger on his tail.]
Susan: [grinning] I want to watch this.
[Susan gets up and follows them, cheering the badger on.]
[Jennifer grabs
Jen: You’re right. What are they doing on the field? They’re talking to Gruff.
Darryl: It’s probably somebody they know. Who on the third floor is big, muscular, and has a tendency to be beaten up by women?
Elsa: You’re not saying that Gruff is that awful lizard, are you? I can’t stand him.
Darryl: Well, it’s probably either him or Biff.
Jim: I’d wager it’s Biff. He’s the one who has mysteriously vanished.
Elsa: I thought he had a concussion.
Jim: Bah, that idiot lion gets worse daily between football practice, parties, and Dani.
Darryl: It’s probably him then. Scott would be unlikely to be wearing boxers over the costume.
Elsa: Biff is our mascot?! We’re doomed!
[Chris Edwards pipes up behind him. (For simplicity’s sake I’ll call him Ed)]
Ed: This is going to be our most spectacular defeat in the mascot match yet.
Darryl: At least it’ll be fun to watch.
[Back to the press box. Doby seems a little woozy. He’s obviously been sneaking more drinks.]
Loree: The droids are facing an uphill battle with the current score 20-0 Griffons. They are currently on their own 40-yard line and on their second down. What would you do, Doby?
Doby: This situation calls for a flea flicker.
Loree: You’ve been saying that for the last ten minutes.
Doby: Obviously the pass they decided to use didn’t work. I think I’m going to throw up.
Loree: Now they’re on their third down on the 35 yard line.
Doby: Time for a flea flicker.
Loree: Dear Lord, that idiot Forrest coach is gonna blitz it!
[Doby stares out the window for a moment to see the results, then promptly ducks his head under the desk.]
Doby: Hhhuuuuurrrrrgh
Loree: Oh, the furnanity! Forrest has called a time out after that horrifying spectacle. Hey boss, what do we do during a time out?
VOC: Well either you indulge in some intelligent speculation or you can use one of the filler pieces you have.
[Loree peers at Doby, who is still under the desk.]
Loree: Filler it is. Good thing I was able to get Chris to do a couple before the game.
[Loree pulls out a cassette and sticks it into one the machines laying about and pushes the play button. Chris can be heard speaking. As the clip plays Loree tries to resuscitate Doby.]
Chris: So you’re the coach of the Forrest U Droids.
Coach: Affirmative. I am head coach Stopovich.
Chris: No offense, but you don’t strike as a typical football coach. The pocket protector isn’t a normal football coach accessory.
Coach: Actually, I work as a physics professor most of the time.
Chris: So why are you the head coach?
Coach: I drew the short straw.
Chris: Huh?
Coach: Well, you see, nobody at Forrest cares about the athletics program enough to fund it enough to hire full time staff. Besides, people like your Coach Carradine would adversely affect the jock-free learning environment we try to cultivate at Forrest.
Chris: I…see. So what’s your strategy for the coming game?
Coach: I leave that up to the CyberCoach 3000.
Chris: The what?
Coach: The CyberCoach 3000 is a little something the Computer Science department cooked up for me. They tell me it’s just like a real football coach. Here, let me turn it on.
[A humming noise can now be heard in the background.]
Chris: What’s all that gibberish on the screen?
Coach: It’s booting up. It’s compiling it’s database of vulgarities. Ah, it’s done now. Let me enter data on our players and our opponents.
CC3k: What the *@%! I can’t do anything with these %&#*^!! You got to be %&$&$ kidding me!
Chris: Very lifelike.
Coach: You think so? I never could stand it.
Chris: Can I hear what CyberCoach would recommend for the coming game?
CC3k: Hail Mary.
Chris: Really? Isn’t that a play of last resort?
CC3k: No, I meant for the (%*$(*^ entire team to do Hail Marys. Divine intervention is the only thing that can save this @$$%& miserable excuse for a football team.
Chris: My sentiments exactly.
[Meanwhile, in the nosebleed section. Chris and Susan are back in their seats]
Susan: You were lucky, dog.
Chris: Luck had nothing to do with it. It was all skill and cunning.
Darryl: Oh, what happened? Or do I not want to know?
Susan: Well, Chris was running from that badger like the cowardly cur he was when he ran through a group of cheerleaders taking a break. Then the badger was tackled by that skanky Kim Greenwald. She was quite taken by that extremely buff badger.
Chris: All part of my master plan. That poor badger forgot about me almost instantly.
Susan: Was it also part of your master plan when you hit on the other cheerleaders and they slapped you silly?
Chris: I tried to make the most of the situation. No matter. I stumbled on to that cute vixen I saw earlier.
Susan: She’s a nerd from Forrest and she shot you down, too.
Chris: Untrue. I got her name and phone number.
Susan: You only got those by asking the geeky hedgehog she was with.
Chris: I had to. Denise just sort of stared at me incredulously when I asked her to go out with me after the game. I think nobody has ever done that to her before.
Susan: Not as though you’ve ever been on a date either.
Chris: Look who’s talking. At least I try, unlike one terminally socially incompatible squirrel I know.
[Susan folds her arms and pouts.]
Chris: [triumphant] Ha! Game, set, and match.
Darryl: [wide eyed] Okay, that was a little more than I wanted to know.
[Jen grabbed
Jen: Time out is over. So what’s Forrest’s next big massacre going to be like?
[
Jen: Aw, but I liked the funny noises you made when I grabbed them.
Jen: Now what possible reason could I dislike a reactionary, chauvinistic, foul-smelling ferret like you?
Elsa: Don’t be
ashamed,
Jen: Don’t you dare speak like that to her! [to Elsa] Are you okay sweetums? Care to go out some time?
Elsa: Kill her,
[Jen snorts in frustration]
Jen: I could beat you with one arm!
Chris: Perhaps your abnormality could be cured with a good hormone treatment, Jen. It’d be a great project to try. I should remember that.
[Chris pulls out a notepad and starts scribbling.]
Jen: That’s it. You’re both dead.
Leon and Chris: But we’re just trying to help you.
[Jen picks up
Chris: Leave me alone! I didn’t do anything wrong!
Darryl: Calm down Jen. The bad ferret’s gone and Chris didn’t mean anything. Did you, Chris?
Chris: [cringing under the bench] I don’t have anything against alternative lifestyles. I just like to tamper with people’s internal chemistry. Honest! You can be as queer as you want! I don’t mind!
Jen: Fine. I’ll be nice now.
Susan: [Peering under Chris’ seat] How come you never cringe like that when I come after you?
Chris: Because Jen is big and scary when she’s angry and capable of tearing me apart. Whereas you are a harmless squirrel.
[Susan spills her drink on Chris’ seat. It pours through the holes and onto Chris below.]
Chris: I hate you. Do you know how hard it is to get soda out of fox fur?
[Susan smiles sweetly and resumes watching the game. Cut back to the press box. Doby is sitting back up and appears at least semi-competent.]
Loree: The Griffons have the ball back and are only 30 yards from the end zone. What do you think they’re going to do next, Doby?
Doby: FLEA FLICKER!!
[Correction: Doby is less than semi-competent.]
Loree: Will you shut up about the stupid flea flicker?
Doby: But I really want to see one.
Loree: [sobbing] I’ll never get on FNN at this rate.
Doby: Hey Loree, why does Forrest have the football now?
Loree: Huh? Molina fumbled the ball and a droid is dashing for the end zone.
Doby: Oooo. Not anymore. He just got flattened by Fitzpatrick on the 20 yard line.
Loree: What a lucky break for Forrest.
Doby: Yeah. Carradine must be pissed.
[Coach Carradine can be heard from the field.]
Carradine: Molina, you @#%$@ you lost the ^%#$# ball!! ^@#%#&@$ &@$&@ $*&@*& *&@$&@ *%@#!!!
Loree: Wow. I never heard a sentence composed completely of expletives before.
Doby: I thought he took it well.
Loree: Really?
Doby: Oh yeah. If he was really upset Art would have been knocked over by the coach’s screams. How much longer till halftime?
Loree: About five minutes.
Doby: Good. We can go home after the mascot match. I need a nap.
Loree: Where is the Forrest U Droid anyhow? It still hasn’t showed up.
Doby: Who knows? If it doesn’t show up DeMontfort wins by default. It would be our first victory in half a century.
Loree: Seems like a cheap way to win.
Doby: Yeah, but I’d take it. It’s not as though we’ve won any other way.
[In the
bleachers. Some
time later.
Jen: This blows. Forrest seems to have given up.
Elsa: Ja, they’re just tossing the ball at our guys and running away.
Jen: That was nothing. You didn’t even make it to the stairwell.
Chris: At least you’re not attracting wasps and ants.
Darryl: Could be worse. Just imagine if our dorm attracted ants because of a massive soda spill.
Chris: Fat chance. It’s going to take hours to get this gunk off. And my hat is stuck to my head, too.
Susan: You should probably shave it all off.
Chris: Never.
Susan: I hear some people have a fetish for furless creatures.
Chris: You are one sick squirrel.
Susan: Just saying what I’ve heard.
Darryl: How much time is left?
Jim: Not long now.
Ed: Thank goodness. The Farce football team is pathetic.
Chris: Please don’t pun ever again. It makes me queasy.
Ed: Sorry.
[Back to the press box.]
Doby: At last, it’s over.
Loree: The Griffons win. 73 to 7.
Doby: Hey, when did the droids score?
Loree: When you were passed out. You should have seen it. Most amazing thing I have ever seen.
Doby: Really? What happened?
Loree: I’m not telling. It’s just what you deserve for drinking on the job.
Doby: Phooey.
Loree: Anyways, it’s time for the main event, the Mascot Match!
Doby: Now it’s our turn to suffer an embarrassing defeat.
Loree: Gruff is on the field with the referee, but the droid is nowhere in sight.
Doby: Hey, did you just feel that?
Loree: Feel what?
Doby: Thought I felt an earthquake or something.
Loree: Nonsense, you’re just drunk.
[A glass of water sitting by Loree ripples every few seconds.]
THOOM THOOM THOOM!
Doby: Uh, Loree, I found the Droid.
Loree: Where? Oh my goodness… How’d that thing get in the stadium?
Doby: It climbed over the side.
Loree: Was anyone hurt?
[Doby grabs some binoculars and looks.]
Doby: Nobody that anyone listening cares about.
[In the bleachers.]
Susan: AAAHHH! IT STEPPED ON MY TAIL!
Elsa: You’ll be all right.
Susan: My beautiful tail is now completely flat! I am not “all right”.
[Chris snickers. Dave peers through a pair of binoculars down at the field.]
Dave: I think somebody at Forrest has been watching too many Japanese cartoons.
Chris: [chuckling] Giant robot fighting time!
Elsa: Good riddance.
[Meanwhile, in the press box.]
Loree: The referee has ruled that the Forrest mascot is legal and they are ready to start the match. Who do you think will win, Doby?
Doby: Well, while Gruff is pretty impressive looking this year, there is no way it can compete with a 50 foot Transformer rip-off. Forrest in less than five minutes.
Loree: And they’re off. Gruff is running around like a little girl, while the Droid squirts him with water. Doesn’t seem to be having much effect. I would’ve expected more from Forrest.
Doby: Wait a minute. Gruff just stole the feather from the Droid!
Loree: No he didn’t. He’s still running around.
Doby: Hey this Gruff is wearing a ball cap. And he looks grouchy.
Loree: That’s Brad Hawthorne! What does he think he’s doing?!
Doby: The Forrest guys seem pretty pissed. They’re screamin’ at the ref.
Loree: Kevin Nekohashi appears to have won the argument and the referee has allowed the second Gruff.
Doby: This is the strangest Mascot Match I’ve ever seen. I don’t know who to root for. Do I want our school to win or do I want to Biff and Brad mashed to a pulp?
Loree: It’s a difficult decision, I admit. The two Gruffs are running circles around the Droid! It can’t seem to catch them!
Doby: Untrue, it just caught the birdie.
[In the nosebleed section. The Richter-2ers are really getting into the match now.]
Jen: Fry that chicken!
Chris: I like mine extra crispy!
Susan: Woo! Go Droid!
Elsa: And don’t forget that mangy lion either!
Jim: Er, aren’t you guys rooting for the wrong team?
Darryl: Yes, but they really don’t like any of the troublemaking, havoc-wreaking glory hogs on the third floor.
Chris: If we’re really lucky, it might step on Dani and Kevin by accident.
Jim: What about Tony and Cindy?
Darryl: Who?
Ed: The dull ones.
Darryl: They’re okay I guess.
Chris: Looks like archery…
All: NOOO!
[In the press box.]
Loree: [banging her fist against the desk, covering the mike with her hand] Why? Why? Why did we have to win today? Out of nearly half a century of defeat we had to win today when I really wouldn’t have minded seeing our mascot crushed.
Doby: I’m happy. Biff’s my kinda guy. Even if he is a bit stupid.
Loree: [Into the mike, suddenly sounding cheerful] For the first time ever, DeMontfort WINS!!
Doby: That walrus guy in the Droid doesn’t seem happy either.
Loree: Well what do you know? It IS a transformer rip-off.
[In the suddenly panic stricken bleachers.]
Chris: He’s gone berserk!
Susan: Look on the bright side; he might still smash some of those nuts.
Elsa: It looks like he’s concentrating on smashing the stadium.
BAAM!!
[Everyone is knocked off their feet by the impact of the tank into the stadium.]
Chris: Uh, the stadium can take this sort of punishment, right Darryl? Darryl? Hey, where’d he go?
Jen: He took off with his tail between his legs muttering something along the line of, “We’re all gonna die!” Chris E and Jim went with him.
Susan: Maybe we should follow our courageous RA’s example?
Dave: Good idea.
BAAM!!
[The floor beneath them collapses with the second impact. Back to the press box. People are running around screaming and the whole room appears to be shaking.]
Loree: [into her mike] We’re currently experiencing technical difficulties. Please stand by. In the likely event that we are no longer able to broadcast, we’d like to take this opportunity to thank you for listening to KDMT campus radio.
Doby: And I didn’t even get to see a flea flicker.
[There’s another bang and the whole press box appears to have broken off the stadium. It falls off backwards into the parking lot. Doby and Loree grab each other and scream. Not to long later, in the parking lot. Doby climbs out of the remains of the press box, carrying Loree on his shoulder. She is grinning. Darryl, Jim, and Chris E emerge from the wrecked stadium, dusty and slightly battered. Shortly behind them come the rest of the cast, looking absolutely miserable. They all walk towards each other.]
Elsa: Vijay and Fred were right, we shouldn’t have come.
Chris: [puzzled] What are you so happy about Loree? Your leg really shouldn’t be in that painful looking position.
Loree: I did it! I got a line of dialog into the strip!
Jen: Nobody is going to know or care who said it, Loree.
Loree: I know. I care. I did it!
Doby: What happened to that tank thingie anyway?
Darryl: We saw it as we were running to safety.
Jim: Biff threw his wings into the back of the tank and gave the driver an asthma attack.
Dave: You mean to say that Biff “brains by
Playskool”
Ed: Yes.
Dave: Biff won the match AND saved the day?
Jim: With the help of Brad, but yes.
Susan: It can’t get any crazier than that.
Chris: Ow! My clothes are stuck to my fur, too! What the hell kind of soda was that, Susan?
Susan: Poopsi-Cola, real syrupy stuff, but the clothes sticking to you is more likely the result of the nacho cheese Jim spilled on you as he ran away.
Chris: Nuts.
Darryl: Maybe we should watch the game on TV next time. Next best thing to being there.
[End of movie. Back to the lounge on Richter-2.]
Chris: Something is really wrong when it’s Biff who wins the day.
Loree: I hate Biff. Say, how did you get that stuff out of your fur?
Dave: I told him to take Susan’s advice and shave it all off.
Chris: Luckily, winter came in not too long after the game.
Dave: He shed everywhere. It was awful.
Chris: I was still miserable though. You know how nasty it is to be a fox with a
thick winter coat in southern
Loree: I always wondered why you stuffed dry ice in your pockets.
Dave: Yeah, and he has to poor liquid nitrogen around our room, too! It’s a friggin’ icebox.
Chris: Sorry about that.
Loree: Well, that’s everything for today folks! Stay tuned for the next exciting episode of “We’re Richter, Too!” This show exists solely from miniscule University funding and the ever-loyal support of-
Dave and Chris: -viewers like you!
Chris: Hey! I’m the only one who says it!
[Dave sticks his tongue out at Chris. Fade to black.]