by Simon Rich
If you decide to use your sick day now, turn to Page Two. If you decide to save your sick day for some other time, turn to Page Six.
Page two
You call the office and tell them you’re sick.
“That’s your second sick day,” Nancy tells you. “You only have one left.”
“I know,” you say, hanging up the phone.
How did this happen? How did this become your life?
You try to go back to sleep, but it’s impossible. After about five minutes, you sit up and turn on the television. That’s when you remember: the cable in your apartment is broken and the guy isn’t coming to fix it until Saturday. You flip around for a while, but the only channels you get are CBS and NBC. CBS is playing The Early Show. NBC is playing the Today show.
If you decide to watch The Early Show on CBS, turn to Page Three.
If you decide to watch the Today show on NBC, turn to Page Four.
Page three
You watch The Early Show. Turn to Page Five.
Page four
You watch the Today show. Turn to Page Five.
Page five
You go to the bathroom and look at your face. What happened? You used to be young and it wasn’t so long ago. Jesus. Maybe you should have just gone to work.
THE END
Page six
You go to work. The Projects Meeting is about as horrible as you expected. It’s just the same thing every time. Mr. Cohen talking about “viability,” and everybody nodding and looking at the clock, waiting for lunch to start, like a bunch of animals. When you get down to it, everybody is basically just an animal – eating, sleeping, eating, sleeping. Dying. Christ. Maybe you should have just called in sick.
THE END
Actor’s nightmare
Ford’s theater, 1865
(LADY HAMPTON and LORD HAMPTON enter stage right.)
LADY HAMPTON: Good afternoon, sir.
LORD HAMPTON: Good afternoon.
(President Lincoln shot in the head.)
STAGE MANAGER: (offstage) Keep going!
Demands
Dear cops,
I’ll release the hostages if you bring me the following items:
Combination to bank vault or some kind of machine that can open vaults
A strong bag that is big enough to fit all of the money from the vault
A second criminal to help me carry this bag out of the bank
Ropes to tie up the hostages so they don’t walk around so much
A third criminal with a car who can drive us away as soon as we get outside with the bag
MapQuest directions from the bank parking lot to Mexico
Some general information on Mexico (what kind of currency they use, which sports are popular there, basic culture things)
English to Spanish dictionary
Someone needs to go back to my apartment and bring me my asthma inhaler. It’s either in the medicine cabinet or on the little table next to the futon.
There’s a small chance I left the stove on in my apartment. I don’t think I did, but I’m a little bit worried because I can’t actually visualize myself turning it off. Anyway, whichever policeman goes to get the inhaler should also check to make sure the burner is all the way off because I left my cat behind and I don’t want him to inhale any gas.
I just realized that someone is going to have to adopt my cat. His name is Rudy and he is very smart and affectionate. I’m not just saying that because he is mine – he is a really special animal. He has a slight bladder problem but it’s not bad as long as you give him his medication (the directions are on the bottle).
I forgot to give Rudy his pill this morning. Just give him two tonight. You’re really not supposed to do it like that, but it’s okay if it ends up happening once in a while.
Some kind of weapon.
Gotham City Hall
BATMAN: Thanks for taking the time to meet with me, Mayor.
MAYOR: Of course, Batman. What’s on your mind?
BATMAN: It’s about the prison system. I really think you should increase funding.
MAYOR: We’ve already been over this, Batman. We simply don’t have the resources.
BATMAN: But Gotham City needs a maximum security prison. I mean … look at these statistics. (Takes out pie chart.) Scarecrow has escaped eleven times. The Riddler has escaped sixty-four times. The Joker has escaped four thousand times. It’s like, what’s the point of even having a prison?
MAYOR: I wish there was something I could do, but the annual budget’s already been finalized.
BATMAN: You know these guys are trying to kill me, right?
MAYOR: I’ll tell you what: I can transfer the Joker to the Asylum for the Criminally Insane. That’s a secure location.
BATMAN: Are you kidding me? That place is a freaking joke!
MAYOR: …
BATMAN: I’m sorry … I was out of line.
MAYOR: That’s all right. I know this is an emotional issue for you.
BATMAN: I just don’t have any confidence in that asylum. Last month they released the Penguin and three days later he tried to kill me. I was able to capture him and have him recommitted to the asylum, but they released him again the very next day! He tried to kill me this morning. I barely escaped. He’s still on the loose.
MAYOR: Believe me, Batman, I sympathize.
BATMAN: Listen. I’ve been crunching the numbers, and if we eliminate the Gotham Symphony Orchestra, we can hire four extra guards and build a watchtower.
MAYOR: Batman, the orchestra is one of the jewels of our city.
BATMAN: I know, I know … but don’t you think we’ve reached a crisis situation?
MAYOR: It’s just … less costly to keep things the way they are. And besides, you can handle these guys! You’re Batman. You don’t need some fancy, expensive new prison.
BATMAN: Is that new? That flat screen TV?
MAYOR: …
(Phone rings.)
MAYOR: Excuse me, Batman. (Picks up phone.) Mayor Hayes here … really? Kidnapped? What did the note say? Huh … it sounds like some kind of riddle. Nah, don’t worry about the signal. He’s right here. (Hangs up.) It seems the governor’s daughter has been kidnapped.
BATMAN: Again? That’s the third time this month!
MAYOR: It sounds like the work of the Riddler. Apparently he’s … um … escaped from prison.
BATMAN: …
MAYOR: Hey, at least you’re already dressed, right? I mean, that saves us a call on the red phone.
BATMAN: You know what my red phone bill was last month? Eleven hundred dollars. That money comes straight out of my own pocket.
MAYOR: Do you want a key to the city?
BATMAN: I already have seventy-four keys to the city. I don’t need another key to the damn city. All I want is some accountability here.
MAYOR: I’ll tell you what: I’ll talk to that philanthropist, Bruce Wayne. I bet I can convince him to donate us a prison. That guy’s a real pushover.
BATMAN: …
MAYOR: You know there’s a rumour going around that he had a facelift?
BATMAN: Really? Who’s been saying that?
MAYOR: (Shrugs.) Everybody.
World’s oldest profession
If prostitution really is the “world’s oldest profession,” that means there was a time when it was the only job on earth.
20,000 B.C.
MAN: Hey.
WOMAN: Hey.
MAN AND WOMAN: (in unison) You want some action?
MAN: Damn. Thought I had a sale.
WOMAN: Me too.
MAN: Hey, do you mind if I go after the next customer? It’s been a really slow week for me.
WOMAN: Go ahead.
MAN: Thanks. Hello, sir!
SECOND MAN: Want some action?
MAN: (Sighs.)
SECOND MAN: (to woman) Want some action?
19,000 B.C.
MAN: Guess what? I came up with a new profession. It’s called “carpent
er.”
WOMAN: Is it sort of like “prostitute”?
MAN: No, it’s a totally different thing. I make things out of wood and sell them to other people.
WOMAN: Sell them? For what?
MAN: Sex, usually. I mean … my customers are all prostitutes.
WOMAN: Oh. Want some action?
MAN: Do you want some action?
WOMAN: I thought you said you were a carpenter now.
MAN: I’m not quitting my day job.
Worst nightmare
POLICE OFFICER: Mr. Rich? We need to speak to you.
ME: Is there a problem, Officer?
SECOND POLICE OFFICER: Your neighbour Mrs. Hamilton was murdered today, and you match the witness’s description. I’d call that a problem.
ME: Officer, I swear, I had nothing to do with it!
SECOND POLICE OFFICER: We’ll need an alibi. Where were you this afternoon?
ME: At what time?
SECOND POLICE OFFICER: From eight
A.M. to six
P.M. ME: I was here. In my apartment.
POLICE OFFICER: Really? On a Wednesday?
SECOND POLICE OFFICER: Why weren’t you at work?
ME: Well, I’m a writer, so I work from home.
POLICE OFFICER: So you were writing. What were you working on?
SECOND POLICE OFFICER: I don’t see any writing materials around.
ME: Well … actually … I didn’t really get much work done today.
POLICE OFFICER: So what did you do all day?
ME: I watched TV.
POLICE OFFICER: For the entire day?
ME: Um … yeah.
POLICE OFFICER: What did you watch?
ME: Does it really matter?
POLICE OFFICER: Yes.
ME: Okay … I watched Nanny 911.
POLICE OFFICER: What’s that?
ME: It’s a reality show about a group of British nannies. They visit American households and try to get them to be more organized.
SECOND POLICE OFFICER: What else?
ME: That’s it. Just … that one show.
POLICE OFFICER: You watched Nanny 911 for ten straight hours?
ME: There was a marathon.
SECOND POLICE OFFICER: Jesus. What about meals?
ME: I ordered in pizza. Once at noon and then again at around five.
POLICE OFFICER: You ordered pizza twice in one day?
SECOND POLICE OFFICER: (picking up copy of TV Guide) Hey, it says here that the Nanny 911 marathon was only five hours long. Your story doesn’t hold up.
ME: Well … the thing is … they ran the marathon twice. Once from eight to one … and then again, from one to six.
POLICE OFFICER: Wait a minute. You’re telling us you watched five episodes of Nanny 911, from eight to one. And then you watched the same five episodes again, from one to six?
(long pause)
ME: I murdered Mr. Hamilton.
POLICE OFFICER: You mean Mrs. Hamilton?
ME: Whatever.
The only e-mails I could receive that would justify the frequency with which I check my e-mail
Hey Simon,
It’s Danielle, the quiet girl you said “hi” to once at Academic Camp the summer after junior year of high school. I’d explain how I tracked you down and got your e-mail address, but there just isn’t enough time: in three minutes, I’m leaving on a jet plane for the Bahamas. (I know – I should have e-mailed earlier!) Anyway, I’ve been secretly in love with you for the past six years and I want you to come live with me in paradise. If you write back in the next three minutes, I can get the pilot to wait for you. If you don’t respond by then, I’ll have no choice but to assume that our feelings are not reciprocal.
Danielle
Dear Mr. Rich,
This is the IRS. We have a feeling that you may have accidentally exaggerated some of your business expenses this year, but we don’t want to trouble you with something as unpleasant as a tax audit. Can you do us a favour and just send over a quick e-mail confirming that you told the truth on all of your forms? You don’t have to explain your specific expenses – you can just put “It’s all true” in the subject heading, or something to that effect. If you write us back before the tax deadline, which is in three minutes, then we’ll consider this matter closed. Otherwise, we’ll have no choice but to take your silence as an admission of guilt and send you to prison.
IRS
Hey Simon,
How’s it going? It’s Craig from high school. I just wanted to say hey and see what you were up to. I just started working for a company called Skylar Labs and it’s been really exciting. In fact, I’m actually on my way to a press conference right now. In three minutes we’re unveiling a really cool new product to the public. It’s hard to explain, but basically it stops the spread of cancer cells while simultaneously giving patients the ability to fly. I wonder if the announcement will have any effect on our company’s stock prices? Anyway, hope everything’s cool with you and I’ll talk to you later.
Craig
Dear Mr. Rich,
Three minutes ago, NASA confirmed that a moon-sized asteroid is on a collision course with Earth. In preparation for this day, the government has built an escape pod, called simply, “The Ark.” You are among the ten humans who have been selected to board the pod and serve as the progenitors for a new race of men which will live on after our planet has exploded. The other humans going into the pod are Jack Nicholson, a brilliant scientist, and the seven most beautiful women on the planet. Please write us back in the next few minutes to confirm that you’re willing to take part in this mission. If you’re uncomfortable with this level of power and celebrity, just ignore this e-mail and in three minutes your seat will be given to someone else.
God bless you,
The President
An interview with Stephen Hawking
REPORTER: I just want to start off by saying what a huge fan I am.
STEPHEN HAWKING: Thank you so much.
REPORTER: How does it feel to know that your seminal work, A Brief History of Time, has sold over two million copies worldwide?
STEPHEN HAWKING: It’s an incredible honour. I’m still shocked, to be honest, that it was published in the first place. It isn’t very often that I Love Lucy fan fiction makes its way onto the shelves.
REPORTER: I’m sorry … did you say “I Love Lucy fan fiction”?
STEPHEN HAWKING: Yes, that’s what my book is: a series of stories that I wrote using the characters from I Love Lucy. They travel around the world together, having zany adventures.
REPORTER: I thought it was about astrophysics. Like … black holes.
STEPHEN HAWKING: That’s only the first three chapters. In the middle of chapter four the narrative spirals off into I Love Lucy fan fiction and stays there for the remainder of the book.
REPORTER: Really?
STEPHEN HAWKING: Yes. I must say, I’m pretty surprised you didn’t notice. It’s almost as if you started to read my book, got bored, and then quit after just a few pages.
REPORTER: …
STEPHEN HAWKING: Oh my God. That’s what happened, isn’t it? You bought my book, because you wanted to look smart, but you never even read past page fifty! I’m right, aren’t I?
REPORTER: I’m sorry, Dr. Hawking.
STEPHEN HAWKING: Has anyone finished my book?
The final moments of the Titanic
According to legend, the Titanic band continued to play music as their ship went down. They never abandoned their instruments or sought places in the lifeboats. Instead, they used their final moments to calm their fellow passengers with popular melodies and lovely waltzes.
CAPTAIN: You gentlemen are an inspiration, even to an old sea dog like me.
CELLIST: Thank you, sir.
CAPTAIN: While there’s still time, I’d like to make one last request. Would you play “Nearer, My God, to Thee”? It’s my favourite hymn.
VIOLINIST: Of course, sir. That’s my favourit
e hymn too. A-one and a-two and a … wait a minute … what do you mean “last request”? I thought we were getting paid to play until six.
CELLIST: Yeah, our contract says “midnight to six.”
CAPTAIN: Well, yes … but I imagine the end will come by then. I mean, if the ship continues to sink at this rate.
VIOLIST: If the ship continues to what! (Looks up from his sheet music.) Holy shit! Guys, look!
DRUMMER: Jesus Christ! Is that a fucking hole in the ship?
CELLIST: Oh my God. Oh my God oh my God oh my God oh my God …
CAPTAIN: I don’t understand. Didn’t you men hear the collision?
VIOLINIST: We couldn’t hear anything over the sound of our instruments!
CAPTAIN: What about all the crowds of screaming people running by? You must’ve noticed them.
DRUMMER: I thought they were just excited because we were playing so many waltzes! Why didn’t you tell us that the ship was sinking?
CAPTAIN: I assumed you knew and were playing anyway. You know, as a kind of … gesture.
CELLIST: Are you insane? (turning to his bandmates) Guys, listen, I have a plan: the rule is usually women and children first, but if we dress up as women, then maybe we can sneak onto the lifeboats!
VIOLINIST: It’ll never work! We all have beards!
DRUMMER: Maybe we can kill the women and children, to make more space!
CELLIST: (nodding seriously) I have a revolver in my room.
VIOLINIST: It’s too late! The final lifeboat is leaving!
VIOLIST: (sobbing) What are we going to do?
CELLIST: Let’s keep playing! Maybe if we do it loud and fast enough, one of the boats will hear us and come back!
DRUMMER: It’s our only chance.
Inside the cartridge
Street Fighting Man, copyright © 1987 by Nintendo Scene: Jump Kick Boulevard
– How many dead?
– Fifty.