Part 1 of Where's Gracie? - A Piss-warm Draft of a Twisted Teleplay

The worst part of it is, we're both damn good writers...just not when we're together.
Where's Gracie?
by Cub Lea and Ben S.
Last updated 08/81

Just plain weird. This has no redeeming value other than to point out how a severely beered-up mind can toy with reality, and dream of stardom as a CBC scriptwriter...particularly when there's sufficient encouragement and a blissful lack of awareness that the only position this writer is going to hold for the next year is driver of a sandwich truck on the worst route in Canada's fifth largest city.

There may be a few yocks here, but this was written in 1981. These days there are actually places where I could have this published. I'm holding out for published and paid. But surely no one would be stupid enough to produce a literary version of Jackass.

And maybe it's just me, but some nights as I'm falling asleep, I think of the Doe name and family unit, the cut-shots, the pacing and the level of stark surrealism...and I get the creepiest feeling that whoever created Family Guy owes me and Ben a goddam word of acknowledgement.

Scene One

	(Camera spots the John Doe family at the kitchen table. The announcer cuts in over the theme music.)
Announcer:	Meet the Doe family. Take a good look, and ask yourself this question: Do you really know what's going on with the Middle Class?
	(Mother, Jane; and son, Vito sit eating dinner. A white Corning-style casserole dish hovers over the center of the table. Mother is either a husky-looking woman or a transvestite; Vito is either black or an Oriental with a thick accent.)
Vito:	But Mom, I don't want to practice because I don't like playing the glockenspiel!
	(Cut to shot of a wincing Vito, playing a badly out-of-tune, out-of-time glockenspiel in the world's worst high school band. Bandmaster scowls at Vito; Vito breaks rank and tries to run but is dragged down by bandmaster's bullwhip. Band members trample Vito as formation march continues.)
Jane:	Now, look. When I married your father, I felt the same way. But did that stop me? Look at me now. I'm a wife and a mother, and I'm even starting to like whips.
	(John attempts to spoon dinner from the casserole dish, which sits in one place for everyone but him.)
Vito:	But Mom, I have to wear this belt, an' it's too tight, an' my kidneys are starting to hurt real bad.
Jane:	Are they bleeding yet?
Vito:	Just a little, after practice sometimes .
Jane:	Honestly, Vito, look around you. Does it look like we're poor? Does it look to you like we couldn't afford a transplant if you really needed it?
Vito:	Well, no, but...
Jane:	But what!?
John:	Now, that's enough, you two. Jane, I'm sorry about this, and I know how badly you wanted to be in the band, son, but if you insist on wearing that belt so tight that your kidneys bleed, then I'm afraid we can't afford a transplant. You're just going to have to quit.
Jane:	What? After all the time and effort he put into it? You're breaking his heart, John! (Vito starts to grin)
John:	Jane, you're the one who cashes my paychecks. You know how much an undercover middle-class citizen makes. We simply can't afford kidney transplants whenever we feel like it.
	(Stop action; dramatic music as file is superimposed on frozen screen. File reads:
	F.O.O.D. File, Operative # 30549 Subject: John Doe Address: 592 No Comment Lane, Suburbainville, USA Age: 41 Occupation: (classified) Officially none ORG Status: Undercover middle-class citizen Code name: Vitamin B-52
	(Roll part of credits)
	(Re-intro)
John:	I'm sorry, Vito, but that's final. I won't have you wrecking your kidneys for no good reason. They cost us a lot of money, you know.
Vito:	Does that mean we can't afford my tonsillectomy next month?
Jane:	Now Vito, you remember what the doctor said. You'll have to wait until your voice stops changing, and that won't be for another five years yet. You're only 18, you know.
	(Jane winks at John; John winks at Vito; Vito winks at the stuffed dog; the stuffed dog pees on the carpet. Vito starts; looks back at his father)
Vito:	But Pop! I've got leukemia, remember? I'll be dead in six months!
John:	Then you won't need a tonsillectomy after all.
Vito:	Aw pop....
John:	You really want your tonsils out?
Vito:	Yeah, Pop, they hurt!
John:	Okay, son, you want your operation, you'll get your operation. Jane, scalpel. (Holds open palm towards Jane)
Vito:	Okay, okay!
John:	So you're not getting your tonsils out, you're not going to play that damn glockenspiel and I don't want to hear any more whining. Remember, when we found out you had leukemia? You promised your mother and I you'd let us watch you die in peace.
Vito:	Oooo-kaaaay, pop.
Jane:	Now, John, let's not be too hasty.
	(Dramatic music; Vito and John look alarmed; pan back to Jane and freeze frame; superimpose file on frozen screen. File reads:
	F.O.O.D. File: Subversive #30549a Subject: Jane Doe Address: See file 30549 Age: 39 (believed to be an assumed age) Occupation: pickle decontaminator ORG Status: suspected radical Middle Class citizen.
	(Continue credit roll)
John:	But Jane, we simply can't afford a kidney transplant!
Jane:	Who says he'll need a transplant? He has two of them, doesn't he? Couldn't we just take half of each one and make one good one for him?
Vito:	Okay, okay, could we just eat? I had chemotherapy today and I'm really not in the mood for this.
John, Jane:	Yes, son. We're sorry.
	(Jane winks at John; John winks at Jane; Jane winks back at John; John "ahem's" and continues trying to spoon dinner from casserole dish. Pan to Vito, looking satisfied, as he continues eating. Music rises; freeze frame; superimpose file on frozen screen)
	F.O.O.D. File #30549b Subject: Vito Ying-Kie Doe Address: Unknown Age: 41 Occupation: High school student ORG Status: none Particulars: Believed to be an F.I.V.K. plant; not believed to be the real son of John and Jane Doe.

	(Continue credit role)
John:	By the way, son, did you walk the dish today?
Vito:	Yeah, soon as I got home. But he won't sit still. I think he's trying to tell us something.
	(All eyes intent on the hovering casserole dish. DeVol-style theme music rises; pan to dish, credits read: "Also starring Francis Cosworth III as Gaylord, the Insane Pyrex Dish. (Inanimate objects trained by Jim Smith)"
John:	Don't be silly. Dishes can't talk. What they can do is keep a hard-working father from getting his dinner. (Angrily) Do you hear that, you brainless chunk of heat-resistent silica?
	(The dish hovers over John's plate, the lid rises and the dish inverts; spilling its entire contents on John's plate, pants, and the surrounding table. John reaches fork into crotch, winces, and raises a forkful of food.)
John:	What is this, by the way? (John takes a bite of food and grimaces.)
Jane:	Alfalfa creole, dear. I wanted to try something different tonight.
John:	Then let's try something different. This is terrible!
Vito:	Maybe Cat will eat it.
	(Vito looks at stuffed dog)
	You hungry, Cat?
	(Dramatic music rises, frame freezes, file superimposed on frozen screen.)
	F.O.O.D. File #30549c Name: Cat Address: See file #30549 Age: 41 Occupation: Family stuffed dog ORG status: F.O.O.D. counter-operative; reports on status of operatives #30549-#30549b. Particulars: None. From all reports, a normal family stuffed dog.
	(Continue credits roll)
	(John carries plate to Cat; huge pile of leftovers spill from dog dish. John dumps plate onto pile and tilts Cat so hind legs are in air, balances on front legs with muzzle in dish of slop. Retching sound; Cat vomits.)
John:	The recipe should have included Dramamine.
Jane:	Dear! I guess that didn't come out too well, did it? Oh, well...I still have some leftover zucchiniburgers.
	(Look of horror crosses faces of John, Vito. Rise ominous music. Cut to commercial.)
	(End Scene One)