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Great Writing - Home > Comedy > Sam, don’t help!
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Comedy
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| Sam, don’t help! | |
| By andybyers | ||||||||||
| 10 August 2007 | ||||||||||
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Oh, the trials and tribulations of the Anglosphere these days! Written last April.  [A small, quiet room, containing a few chairs and a table at which an Iranian man is seated. A door opens, and two Anglos enter.] John (sitting at table, reaching across to Hassan): I’d like to thank you for agreeing to see me today. Hassan (shaking hands with John): It is my hope that we can resolve this issue between us… uh… who is this gentleman with you? John: Oh… um… that’s Sam. Hassan: I don’t understand… why is he here? John: Well, he sort of insisted. Just got in the car when I was heading over. Sam: Listen, Hadgi— Hassan: My name is Hassan, actually… Sam: When you mess with John, here, you mess with me! Got it? John: Sam, please. You promised. Sam: Just watchin’ your six, Johnny. John: I appreciate it, but it might help if you were to sit down and try to be pleasant. [Sam sits, folds his arms, scowls at Hassan.] John: Now, as I understand it, you feel that some of my crew were on your property… Hassan: Your people are everywhere, John. If I don’t take a stand, no one’s going to respect my property. I mean, are they? John: I understand that, old chap, and you’re perfectly right about that. It’s just that my crew are adamant that they did respect your property and the fellows you have hadn’t— Sam: Hand ‘em over, ragtop! We’re not telling you again! Next time we’re talking with knuckles, dig? Hassan: Who is this man? John: Sam, please, this isn’t constructive! Sam: You want constructive? How about I use my boot to construct a shoeshine box out of his ass? Hassan (rising): I feel that we are finished here… John: Hassan, please, wait! Sam, for the love of God, shut up! You’re not helping! Sam (sitting, fuming): Cripes, John, you didn’t actually check your nuts at the door, did you? Hassan (sitting again): Perhaps the dialog would be more fruitful if your friend were to wait in your car. Sam: Plenty fruity already, I’d say. John: Sam, I’m trying to get my boys home to their families. Please. I appreciate your support, but it’s not your place to involve yourself. Sam: I don’t need your permission anymore, Your Majesty. For nothing. Remember that. John: Yes, how could I possibly forget. You make me watch The Patriot every time I come over. Sam: Masterpiece of historical accuracy. Hassan: Perhaps you gentlemen could first come to a consensus and inform me when you’re ready to talk with one voice. Sam: We’re ready to talk anytime you like, towel boy! Just ask your neighbours! [Hassan leaves.] Sam: Are you just gonna let him treat you like that? That guy has no respect for you, you pipsqueak! No respect for you at all. John: I wonder why. Tune in next time when Sam borrows billions of dollars from Chang and Kenji to kick Hassan’s ass, same stupid time, same stupid channel!
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