A Word From Our Actors

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True Story or Urban Legend? 

I woke up this morning remembering a story I heard about in high school. I can’t remember if it was a news story or just an urban legend. I was about to google it to find out, but I decided not to. I feel like thinking about it instead, and reaching out to other people who might have heard about it too. Without looking it up, this is what I remember:

A popular teenage girl goes to a tanning salon to get a nice tan before her senior prom. She talks the people who work at the salon into letting her do multiple sessions in a row. She spends hours in a tanning bed and literally cooks herself to death. I don’t remember if she dies in the bed or later on that day. I feel like I read about this in the newspaper- I can almost picture the girl, but my mind could also be playing tricks on me. There is also an episode of Bones where a woman is murdered by being locked in a tanning bed, so obviously it’s possible.

Does anyone else remember this story?! What do you think- true story or urban legend?

No Big Deal

Every Wednesday night, my husband and I have friends over to our house for dinner. Sometimes we play games, sometimes we make art, but no matter what, every evening ends up in some pretty interesting conversation. We’ve grown close and since most of us are not from Seattle, we’ve become a home away from home for each other. We talk about our lives, what we did that week, and who’s been pissing us off. Sometimes our conversations take on recurring themes and though the evenings come to an end, the topics come right back to life the following Wednesday.

One such topic was sparked by a comment I made one night about not understanding why cannibalism was such a big deal. I get why murder is a big deal, but if the person is already dead, what’s the problem? I told my friends that if we were stranded somewhere together and one of them died, I would have no problem eating that person. They had A LOT of questions for me and this became a popular dinnertime conversation.

A while back, I was visiting my mom in L.A. and I told her about it. I wondered if she would think of me differently. I said “Mom, I’ve thought about this a lot and I feel pretty sure that I could eat a person if I had to. Even someone I knew. So if I die and you’re starving, I just want you to know, it’s totally fine with me if you eat me.”

My mom looked at me smiling and said, “Honey, I don’t need your permission.”

 

Like this story? Check out The Proposal

THE ONE THAT GOT AWAY

This is a true story. It was told to me by a friend about something that happened to another friend. Like a game of telephone. So it’s true…ish.

Pretty much everything has happened to Jenny. She’s broken most of the bones in her body at one point or another, sliced her foot open on a yacht, and had multiple back surgeries. So on a quiet Tuesday morning, when the car in front of her slammed on its brakes and she, in turn, slammed into it, she wasn’t terribly surprised. Just glad that she had already dropped her daughter off at school. Jenny rolled her neck around and sighed. Another round of physical therapy for sure.

She turned off her car and went to check on the guy she hit and to find out why he had stopped so suddenly. As she got closer, she saw another car in front of his, parked in the right lane. No wonder he had slammed on his brakes! How could this jerk be parked here? This street was practically the freeway. Jenny walked over to the parked car thinking of all the things she wanted to say. She could see someone climbing around inside. “Excuse me!” she called, as she tapped on the driver’s side window. The guy inside spun around and stared at her blankly “hey.”

Jenny glared at him for a moment. “Yeah. Hey. You can’t park here! You just caused an accident.” He turned his head around to look at the cars behind him. “Well,” he said, shrugging his shoulders, “I had no choice. I had to poop, so I pulled over and went in this bucket.” He gestured with his thumb to a bucket in the back seat. Jenny didn’t want to look, but she couldn’t help it. There were two large swirls of poop. She was speechless. After a minute she said, “Um… well, couldn’t you hold it in until you found a gas station? Or at least until you got off the road?” The guy shook his head “Nah. Nah. It was an emergency and I mean, what would you have me do? Poop in my pants? That’s nuts.” He started his car and drove away and all Jenny could do was stare after him. To this day, she lays in bed at night wondering where he is, knowing he’s out there somewhere, driving around with his bucket in the backseat.

A SMALL MOUNTAIN WITH A CAVE IN IT

My mom recently sent me some of what she calls my “early works.” Basically the stories my dad would make me write before I was allowed to play Nintendo. Here’s one of many:Hermie Gets Homesick by Charlotte DeanHermie Gets Homesick by Charlotte Dean-1

Coconut Soy Delight

Dear Bridget,

I think you should know about this yogurt I ate last night. It was coconut soy delight and the texture was exactly like old, hard, jello. It didn’t taste like anything to me, but I’m sure you would have been able to taste the coconut because you hate it so much. I wish you could have tasted it. I tried to punch up the flavor by adding honey and cinnamon, but it was late and I wasn’t wearing my glasses. I ended up adding honey and black pepper. That did not improve the taste. However, as I said, it was late, I was hungry and I didn’t want to wake anyone by cooking something, so I decided to try and salvage it. Luckily, because of its gelatinous consistency, I was able to scoop off the very top where I had added the pepper and remove almost all of it. I rinsed off my spoon and added more honey and actual cinnamon this time. I grabbed my yogurt and quietly tiptoed out of the kitchen. Just as I was making my way back up the stairs, I knocked over a screwdriver that was on the banister and it fell onto the stairway, bouncing and making a loud bang with each step it hit on its way down to the hardwood floor, where it rolled around for what felt like ten minutes. I just stood there watching it, hoping no one else had heard it. I got back in bed and ate my yogurt quietly. It still tasted terrible to me and I can only imagine what it would have been like for you.

Love, Deborah

The Proposal read by Laraine Newman

@The Groundlings

July 29, 2014

Filmed by: Ron Sarfaty

My Dead Body

Stephan-

Thank you for your email. Yes, I do want to marry you. I’m sure. And it’s not because of all your money.  I actually love you. I have no problem signing your prenup. In fact, I have something for you to sign as well. Basically, it says that when the police find my dead body, they should question you first. I don’t think you’re going to kill me, but statistically if someone’s going to kill me, it’s you. And I just want you to be investigated.

By signing my agreement you’re saying “I’m on board with that!” There’s a lot of fine print here and I don’t think you need to read it all. It just gets into the specifics of different ways my body might be found and some sample questions the police should ask. Like, “Oh so we’re supposed to believe that your wife hit herself on the head with a bat?” Obviously I’m just ball-parking it. No one really knows what’s going to happen. I just have this feeling. You know?

Shawna thinks I’m nuts for marrying you, but I told her I love you. You don’t choose who you fall in love with, right?

I wrote down as many scenarios of my murder as I could think of and I added a suggested response from you for each. Most are obvious like: if I’m shot, you should ask the police to test your hands for gunpowder residue. Some are less about you being tried and convicted and more about you feeling my pain. Like if I’m drowned, I suggested you have Pierre hold your head under water for two minutes so you know what I went through.

Let me know if you have any suggestions – I may have gotten a bit “Romeo and Juliet” on a few. Like, you don’t actually have to drink the poison, but I think we should have some just in case you can’t live without me. Please have the papers signed and get them back to my lawyers by Friday.

Your loving fiancé, Joanne

Welcome Back

Yo Harold!

You’re moving back to LA? That’s great man! What’s it been like twelve and a half years?! Wow. I just want you to know you can come stay with me if you want. I promise my kids won’t get in our way. If you’re the guy I remember, my kids will never be as important to me as you are.

I’ve missed you a lot. Every time I see a good bromance I think about you.  I feel like that’s what we had, but we didn’t get to call it that! Are you still honest and trustworthy? Enough with all the secrets, right? I want us to be friends for life, so I hope you’re still in good shape. I’d prefer you to be off drugs, but I’m willing to hear your side of the story.

The only deal breaker for me is if you’ve turned into an overeater. I kind of have a weight problem now. If you’re eating all the time, I know I will too. Also, I’m not supposed to have salt, so you’ll want to try and stop me from having any. I really should be working out, but I need some motivation. I like swimming and jogging, so if I were you I’d try to get me to do those first. People tell me I’m depressed, but the truth is I’m up for pretty much anything. It’s just that it can be hard to get me out of bed. (You remember.)

Sometimes with me it’s all about how you ask. You’ll figure it out.

I have two weekly commitments you should know about. One is my fantasy football league on Thursday evenings and the other is a private thing I do all day on Saturday. The football league is really exciting and I wish you could come with me, but… someone has to look after Richie (my youngest) while I’m gone. So…

I’ll need that on Saturdays as well. You should clear your schedule because it really is all day every Saturday.

Well, that’s pretty much it. How are you doing? If you want to grab a couple six packs and some Tide on your way over that’d be great. I can’t wait to see you man.

-Buddy