This is a little skit written by Erin. It's really funny. If (for
some reason) you want to use this for something, email me at wakko46701@hotmail.com and
ask for permission to use it. If you don't I'll find out and gas your house
with Radon. We (the "Smoking Man" Society of Big Secret Things) will find you
and hunt you down like Bambi's mom!
TOUCHED INAPPROPRIATELY BY AN ANGEL
episode 1 by Erin Watkins
Suburbia, ext, daytime. Irish Angel, Pansy Boy Angel, and Big Scary Angel
watch undetected as Unwitting Heathen Woman pushes her young son on a swing.
IRISH: Why are we here, Big Scary Angel?
BIG SCARY: Shut the hell up. Sorry ... heaven.
PANSY BOY: That woman's dress is divine.
BIG SCARY: Well, that woman has a problem which we will hint at for a
further 37 minutes. Then we'll reveal ourselves as angels. She'll be surprised.
She'll change her life for the better.
PANSY BOY: After we spend no less than 15 minutes telling her that God still
loves her even though she has completely !@#$ed up her life.
IRISH: This job never gets boring!
The angels become visible and approach the Woman.
BIG SCARY: Hello, Unwitting Heathen Woman.
WOMAN: (jumping) Don't sneak up on me like that! Who are you?
BIG SCARY: We have an insanely transparent guise to get into your life.
WOMAN: Oh! How lovely. I'd like you to meet my son Lucifer. Let me call my
husband. Stereotypical God-Fearing Sinner Man! Come here, darling!
MAN: (emerging from house) Yes, sweet muffin?
IRISH: What a hottie! (Big Scary Angel slaps her)
PANSY BOY: What a hottie! (Big Scary Angel slaps him)
WOMAN: Say hello to the nice people, dear.
MAN: I can't right now, sugar tea. I have that mysterious thing happening
in the house, remember?
WOMAN: Ah, yes. Well, back at it, then. (Man goes back into house.) Can I
get you guys anything? Soda? Tea? Beer? Epicac? The blood of a newborn goat?
BIG SCARY: (to herself) Something's wrong here.
PANSY BOY: Do you have any really hard liquor?
Later that day, interior of house. Pansy Boy Angel is helping Woman pick
out clothes for an upcoming anniversary.
WOMAN: Wow, Pansy Boy Angel, you have great fashion sense. How about these shoes?
PANSY BOY: Far too taupe.
WOMAN: What about these red spike heels?
PANSY BOY: I don't know. Let me try them on so I can form an opinion.
(Put on shoes) Ahh. Very nice, but maybe I should put on the dress, too.
Just to get the full effect. (Puts on dress) Now all I need are nylons,
a supportive bra, and eyeliner. Could you ...?
WOMAN: Oh, feel free to use mine. I was a man once too. Um, don't tell my
husband that.
PANSY BOY: Give me a pair of lacy panties and the secret dies with me.
Same day, kitchen. Big Scary Angel is having a heart to heart with little
Lucifer.
BIG SCARY: Come sit on my lap, Lucifer.
LUCIFER: No. You scare me.
BIG SCARY: Sit on my lap, damn it. (He sits uncomfortably on her lap.) Now,
tell me about your mommy and daddy. Do they drink?
LUCIFER: Oh, yes. Like fish.
BIG SCARY: I see. (Puts her hands on his shoulders)
LUCIFER: That's a BAD TOUCH.
BIG SCARY: (insulted, jerks hands away) How do you know what a bad touch is?
LUCIFER: Our gym teacher took all the little boys from my class individually
into his office and gave us a demonstration.
BIG SCARY: Whatever. Back to your parents. Are they Satan worshippers?
LUCIFER: Duh squared. You aren't quick, are you.
BIG SCARY: God, smite this child.
Lucifer is struck by lightning.
Same day, basement. Irish Angel opens the door wearing a very revealing
dress and slinks toward Man.
MAN: Do you mind? I'm trying to prepare tonight's sacrifice.
IRISH: Cultists are so sexy. Come here, you hot slab of a man.
MAN: I'm kinda covered in the blood of a virgin right now.
IRISH: Ooo, baby. I love the sound of your voice.
MAN: Someone is licking the back of my knee! Irish Angel, stop doing that!
I'm busy.
IRISH: Oh, stop playing hard to get.
Big Scary Angel walks in, a burn mark on her dress where Lucifer was sitting.
BIG SCARY: Ew, sick, Irish Angel. Have some dignity. Put on a robe or
something.
IRISH: Big Scary Angel, I haven't had sex since I became an angel. Cut me
some slack here.
Woman and Pansy Boy Angel enter, both wearing beaded dresses and blond wigs.
PANSY: I feel truly alive for perhaps the first time in my life!
WOMAN: I forgot how much fun it is to be a drag queen!
IRISH: Who didn't see this one coming?
A glowing light begins to emit from the angels.
BIG SCARY: (to Woman and Man) We are really angels. God loves you, even
though you lead truly screwed up lives. You could punch to death a
grandmother of seven to death and God would still love you. You could shove
bamboo shoots into the fingernails of children and God would still love you.
You could smear battery acid on a public toilet seat and God would still love you.
You could...
(Three hours later)
... You could sexually molest a nun and God would still love you. You could ...
WOMAN: Please stop talking!
MAN: If God loves me, why am I being tortured this way?
IRISH: Yeah, Big Scary Angel. You're kind of rambling.
BIG SCARY: Don't start with me, Irish Angel.
IRISH: I'm sick of being treated this way. Come on, Pansy Boy Angel.
Let's get outta here. We'll steal the car, pick up some hot guys, and cruise
on outta town.
PANSY BOY: Sounds like a plan to me!
They run out of the basement, leaving behind only the fading sound of Pansy
Boy Angel's high heels on the linoleum.
BIG SCARY: Damn. What do I do now? God'll kick my butt if I go back without
them!
MAN: Get a knife. You can sever the cat head.
BIG SCARY: (sighs) OK.
Inspirational music plays as scene fades out. Credits roll.
Here's Episode II. Written by Ben.
Touched Inappropriately By An Angel
Episode 2 as written by Ben
Heaven. A contrite Big Scary Angel, Irish Angel, and Pansy Boy Angel are
listening to God.
GOD: And, if I EVER catch any of you flirting with Chippendale dancers
again, you will be stripped of your titles!
PANSY BOY (to Irish): Strip...hehehehe!
IRISH: Stop it, Pansy Boy! You’re reminding me of that really great time
we had!
BIG SCARY: Shut the hell up!
GOD: AHHHH! We don’t say here! Why do you people say that?!
GOD: Now, I have an assignment for you. Go to the People With Messed Up
Lives Department. They’ll give you your assignments.
People Department
PANSY BOY: I hope we get a Chippendale dancer.
IRISH: Me, too.
BIG SCARY: Shut up! (She smacks both of them) Look, we have a Typical
American Suburban Family with ordinary marital problems that any stupid
marriage counselor could fix!
IRISH: You know, I think we get these assignments on purpose.
PANSY BOY: Yeah, it kinda makes me feel dirty that they give us these
moronic assignments!
BIG SCARY: Shut up! I hate you two! You are both disgusting! WHY ME?!
I don’t know...
Playground. Little children are playing. Young mothers watch with
adorable infants. Angels appear in playground.
BIG SCARY: And another *&!#@ thing! Pansy’s a fag, and Irish is a ^%@!
I hate YOU! GO TO #*?$! GET AWAY FROM ME!!! I HATE YOU! (#&*(#^!
All little children watch in horror, mothers clutch their children
protectively.
IRISH: Uh, oh.
PANSY BOY: Better do some fast talking!
BIG SCARY (to children): Well, hello, little angels! Why don’t you show
Miss Big Scary Angel where we can find a woman in marital distress!
Children run away screaming.
BIG SCARY: I wonder why that happened.
PANSY BOY: Well, my experience with Liberache taught me, first
impressions are the most important.
IRISH: Yeah, Big Scary, you totally &@^ed it up.
BIG SCARY: Look, there is a woman who is experiencing marital distress.
Let’s put on our We’re Here To Help You But We Really Don’t Care faces.
WOMAN: Hi.
ANGELS (in creepy unison): Hello.
WOMAN: So...can I help you?
IRISH: Yes, you can tell us about your problems.
PANSY BOY: We care about you.
BIG SCARY: We’re here to make you change your life for the better after
10 minutes of pointless pseudo-religious dialogue but not preceding 35
minutes of plot exposition telling us about your pathetic life. It’ll be
a tidy sitcom ending.
WOMAN: Oh. OK. Well, I’m having marital problems...you see, well, maybe
you’d better come and see.
WOMAN’s house. A child is playing in the yard.
WOMAN (to child): Geraldo! Come here!
BIG SCARY: Geraldo! What a charming name!
IRISH (cringing): Heh heh heh. Geraldo. What a precious little...child.
PANSY BOY (drooling): What a cute little boy! I could eat him up!
WOMAN: Well, I can see you two get along just fine! Big Scary and Irish,
can you come in the house with me, and Pansy Boy, how would you like to
stay with Geraldo?
IRISH (to Big Scary): What a stupid woman.
PANSY BOY: OK! Let’s go play!
GERALDO: OK.
PANSY BOY: Well, Geraldo, would you like to sit in my lap?
GERALDO: No!
PANSY BOY: Sit on my lap, dammit!
GERALDO (reluctantly): Fine! (he sits)
PANSY BOY: Well, little Geraldo, what kind of problems are your mommy and
daddy having?
GERALDO: Well, mommy’s upset because daddy wants to move to San Francisco!
By himself. I don’t know why...I like Rice-A-Roni!
PANSY BOY: Oh, I see (he tries to hug Geraldo).
GERALDO: That’s a BAD touch!
PANSY BOY (insulted): What does that mean?
GERALDO: It’s weird, ever since daddy said he wanted to move, mommy said
that hugging and all forms of physical contact with other men are bad.
PANSY BOY: Geraldo, is your daddy a homosexual?
GERALDO: Yes, dammit. He’s actually a gay transsexual. You aren’t very
quick are you?
PANSY BOY: God, strike this child!
(Geraldo is struck by Ebola and turns to soup in seconds.)
PANSY BOY: Let me go find that dad....
In house.
BIG SCARY: Why don’t you tell us all about your problems even thought
you’ve never met us before and probably don’t trust us to keep your secret.
IRISH: Yes, we have only known each other for five minutes, yet for some
strange reason, you will feel compelled to tell us your most personal
aspects of your life that you wouldn’t even mention to your husband.
WOMAN: OK. Well, my husband is...
ANGELS: Yes? Tell us!
WOMAN: Um...he’s a...homosexual.
ANGELS: *GASP!*
(Switch to 700 Club. Pat Robertson)
PAT: And as we know, gay people are evil! They are trying to infiltrate
our society and put me off the air! While you all are filling out those
prayer forms, if you could just make a $50 payable check to me, I...
I mean...God would appreciate it very much.
OTHER HOST: Back to gay people, Pat.
PAT: Yes, if you have gay people where you live, expect to see an
increase in hurricanes, floods, tornadoes, earthquakes, fires, mudslides,
snowstorms, tsunamis, meteorites, and real estate agents! But, for a
small fee, I will pray the hurricane away for you! Just ask! (in respose
to a question) What about Bonnie?!
House.
ANGELS: I’m sorry, that’s not really what we were sent...um...I mean...
WOMAN: Are you from Social Services?
BIG SCARY: You could say that.
IRISH: Yeah...Social Services!
WOMAN: Oh. Well, he wants to move to San Francisco and take Geraldo with
him!
BIG SCARY: And?
WOMAN: And? And?! AND?! Are you senile? Or are you just a punch of
underpaid, overworked temps who are woefully unprepared for any aspect of
your job?!
IRISH: Honey, you have no idea.
BIG SCARY: Shut the hell up, Irish.
IRISH: You know, I am sick of you always telling me to shut up! I am
sick of you!
BIG SCARY: Well maybe you should keep your pants on!
IRISH: Maybe you need to keep that damn hole in your head shut!
BIG SCARY: Well maybe...
WOMAN: More tea, anyone?
Bedroom.
PANSY BOY: So, you want to move to San Francisco?
MAN: Yes. Why do you think I’m packing my leather clothes?
PANSY BOY: You know, it’s been a long time since I’ve worn those.
MAN: Oh, really?
PANSY BOY: Yeah. And anyway, I’ve got this weird stain on my jeans that
keeps getting bigger.
MAN: Ewww. It’s red and it keeps getting bigger. Here (he throws a pair
of leather pants), try these on.
PANSY BOY: Thanks. Can I try the vest, too?
MAN: Sure! Here’s a collar! And boots!
PANSY BOY: You take the whip, and I’ll try this paddle!
MAN: Oh boy!
(They put on clothes)
Kitchen.
IRISH: Just because you’re a prude doesn’t mean I can’t have a good time!
BIG SCARY: BS! You’d have a good time with anything as long as it’s
human and remotely male! )#*&(*& you and your #(&$()*?$*% family, too!
Kiss my (&(@ and *&$(#&, too!
WOMAN: Look! It’s my husband!
ANGELS: Huh?
MAN and PANSY BOY are wearing gay leather clothes.
PANSY BOY: Are we...sexy?
MAN: Do we...turn you on?
PANSY BOY: Why would we care? They’re not...men! HAHAHAHA!
BIG SCARY: It’s time.
WOMAN: Already? But I haven’t told you anything yet!
IRISH: Who cares? You’ll react the same anyway, and we’ll tell you the
same thing! Let’s begin
Light begins to emanate from the angels. Climatic, religious music begins.
BIG SCARY: We are really angels. We’re here to help you. God loves you.
You could spray mustard seed in somebody’s eyes and God would still love
you. You could expose helpless children to massive amounts of radiation
and God would still love you. You could put cyanide in the food at a
retirement home and God would still love you...
(five hours later)
...You could surge fatal amounts of electricity through a public swimming
pool and God would still love you. You could...
IRISH: Big Scary, you’re kind of rambling again.
PANSY BOY: Yeah, Big Scary, you’ve kind of ruined another pseudo-religious
moment again.
MAN: Is there a point to this?
IRISH: Wait a minute! You’re gay!
BIG SCARY: God, smite these people!
MAN and WOMAN disintegrate.
IRISH: So...um...nice clothes, Pansy Boy.
PANSY BOY: Yeah. I was going to go to Castro, but now...my plans were
kinda...
IRISH: Let’s steal their car, go to the red light district, and we’ll
have to go to the male prostitute brothel!
PANSY BOY: OK! Let’s go, Irish!
BIG SCARY: Come back here! Don’t you go off! Dammit! What do I do now?
God will kick my butt if I come back without them. I guess I could clean
up this mess.
Big Scary gets out a broom and begins sweeping. Inspirational music begins.
Credits.
© 1997 wakko46701@hotmail.com
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