Something Else - Collegiate Sketch Comedy

Noir Story, Illustrated by a 12 Year-Old; Ep. 3

July 02, 2009, 06:52:50 PM by Adam Lord

"Knuckleball! You killed my wife! I'm gonna murder you!" That was McDoogle. The guy that owed me two grand of his kid's college money. I heard the door smashed open downstairs. First the window, now the hinges on the door.
I walked over his broad's body and picked up Corkscrew's. I stood him up against the door, then jumped out the window. Five stories up, this could hurt. Right before I smashed into the pavement, I heard McDoogle's scream as he opened the door, Corkscrew's dead body falling on him.
I hit the ground, hard. Why did I jump? I could've taken McDoogle, easy. My knees buckled and my back crunched against the pavement.
Then I stood up.

What? How did I survive that? I looked behind me and saw a crude outline of my body embedded in the pavement. I should be dead, but there's not a scratch on me.
Gunshot behind me. McDoogle had one of the bigger shotguns I've seen. I rushed behind the neighboring building.
"I'll have the last word, Knuckleball! The last thing your going to see is my shotgun down your throat!" We'll see. But the first thing I have to see is the mayor.

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Meet the Crazies Pt.3

July 01, 2009, 01:58:17 AM by Elliott San

   Subways. Short rides. Long rides. Transfers. Five dollars. Homeless people. Beggars. And, most importantly of all, Traps. The doors slide closed behind you and you have anywhere from two minutes to an hour+ to deal/cope/appreciate the entertainment and spectacle the New York's lower socio-economic class has to offer.

   There's a couple different tactics street beggars use. There's the standard "apologize for the disturbance, have a family in need, and need money." Then there's the subway performers, ranging from singers to mariachi bands. But best of all are the acrobats who use the subway polls as tools to flip and twist about as the train hurtles to its destination. Our crazy today lies in the second category.

Barely Trying Little Drummer Lady who Needs PBS Children's Programming to Learn Basic Rhythm

   She enters the subway. I know right away. She sits down on the ground two feet from me and pulls out her duct tape drumsticks. Now she preemptively apologizes for the incoming assault. As she begins beating unsteady quarter notes on the drum, I ponder the apology and quickly file it under insincere. Her performance is about as un-disturbing as the recent endless media coverage of Michael Jackson's death-it goes on far too long and all begins to look and sound the same. And she had clearly touched children.

   Now, her entertainment reaches the point of embarrassment for the viewer. She rambles half-hinged rap beats over haphazard hits on her broken drum. I really do appreciate the attempt, but it was clear that the audience would have eagerly paid her to stop rather than carry on. Even as we all took a collective step back, she went the extra distance and, wait for it-asked for the train to clap along. There's a number of problems with this:
   1. It's 9:00 in the morning.
   2. The beat that we potentially would clap along to exists only in her generous imagination.
   3. SHE ASKED A SUBWAY FULL OF TIRED, PISSED OFF NEW YORKERS TO CLAP ALONG TO HER BEGGARY PERFORMANCE. Hm.

   Points for trying nonetheless. A YouTube sensation is one camera click and ten thousand enlightened comments away. She made three dollars, thanked us for our time, and got off at 59th street.
   I just wished she would've waited around ten more seconds, because, for some reason, just as she stepped off the train, her clapping erupted all through the subway. Is that called Karma or Irony?

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The Five Brothers

June 29, 2009, 11:33:43 PM by Tyler Davis

GREEK 101

Since some of you, luckily I must say, lack in the knowings and experience of Fraternity life, I thought I would catch you up to par with what is currently going on. As well as the process of becoming "Greek".

First things first, you must find your Fraternity. This is a lengthy process where you, as a peon to life shall have the most fun. You go to all the "greek" houses on campus where you are greeted with the upmost respect. You are probably greeted by someone who has a good knowledge of his fraternity as well as a good sense of what it is like to be a greek and a "brother". You probably met this guy...

"Nice Guy"

Once you have found the fraternity you wish to join you impress them with you keen knowledge of pure bullshit. Now your in. Relax and congratulate yourself. The hardest part is behind you. Now comes pledge ship, where that nice guy you met during rush that gave you all those good "reasons" why his fraternity is right for you, becomes an asshole. Clean these dishes! Clean my room and maybe, just maybe I will give you my "signature". (as if his signature is the greatest thing on the planet). Now you are looking at this guy...

Now you have a few sigs...and you are "worthy" of getting your "pledge paddle". This is one of your most proud moments of being a pledge! YES!!! Pat yourself on the back for this one, cause you have now been adopted into a greek family!

Did someone say PARTAY!?! Oh yes...this is the soul reason for a fraternity. They love, live, and breathe for "party". They talk all week in their secret meetings about how much money they will spend for all the alcohol and what kind of booze they will buy. As well as the theme for the party. And when the party is over these meetings start immediately to make plans for the next fridays party night.

After you have met all the standards the fraternity requires of you, you become one of the brothers through a ritual they swear is the most important thing about the fraternity. They will die for this ceremony/ritual and stand by it faithfully.

What a life! I must say, why everyone isn't greek is beyond my imagination...GREEK S HAVE TO BE THE MOST AWESOME PEOPLE ON THE WHOLE CAMPUS!

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Kitty Corner with Jasmine P. Wabler

June 27, 2009, 10:21:41 PM by Kristin Gibler

Topic # 2: Famous Cats

Instead of focusing on actual cats who have done little for the cat community, I want to pinpoint a group that has really brought the cat craze to the forefront. A group that has made it known that they are here to defend the cat name and all it's worth. I mean I could go on and on about big name cats like:

Garfield

Tom

or Felix

but that's nonsense. I want to send a special sexy shout out to all my gurls in the club for the Pussycat Dolls.

These ladies have really brought cat issues to the public eye. Without them, the masses might even forget about what cats do for the world. I'm not the only one to notice this, cats around the globe are meowing praises for this gurl group and all the work they have done to really promote cat concerns with their music. Here is a selected music video for your viewing pleasure to see what I mean.

<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch/v/N_0JywrfPuY" target="_blank">http://www.youtube.com/watch/v/N_0JywrfPuY</a>

I mean cats love buttons, everything about 'em. I love to chase loose ones on the floor, I love to scratch at them when my owner wears them. Heck I've even tried to eat a button or two. Another hot topic the ladies hit with this song is the concern of cat collaboration with dogs. It's the Pussycat Dolls and Snoop Dogg, which just proves that they are really setting aside differences and bringing peace to the world. The point it, the Pussycat Dolls are really making a difference. It should be noted that without their music cats around the world could starve to death or go homeless or even declawed. These gurls are lifesavers and sexy while doing it.

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Noir Story, Illustrated by a 12 Year Old, Ep. 2

June 25, 2009, 12:56:30 PM by Adam Lord

   I’d never seen Corkscrew so scared. And Corkscrew jumped at a pin drop.
   “What?” I said.
   “Knuckleball, that’s The Mayor’s daughter!” The redheaded broad lay dead on my floor, a quizzical look on her face.
   “Looks like I got a call to make.” I picked up the phone and spun the numbers, needed to get rid of this old piece of crap. “Mr. Mayor!”
   “Knuckleball!” I silenced Corkscrew with my finger.

   “Knuckleball?” The Mayor was displeased to hear from me. “What are you callin’ me for? We got a meeting in an hour.”
   “That’s what I’m calling about, I have to cancel.”
   “Cancel?” The Mayor bellowed. He laughs like I imagine Babe Ruth would have laughed. “I guess I’ll keep your money, then.”
   I forced a laugh, “That’ll be the day. No, something came up. I can’t be there.”
   “Listen, Knuckleball, I’m the Mayor of this town.”
   “I know.”

   “Shut up! Let me finish, you cocky turf-cutter. I don’t get jerked around. I’m doing you a favor by giving you my money. I could just as easily arrange something to happen to you. Get my drift? This is a one-time deal. You don’t show, I don’t owe.” Cute.
   “Mayor, you bet ten grand on a longshot and you lost. If you want me to keep your little indiscretions under the table, I suggest you let me reschedule this meeting.”
   “I don’t respond to threats.”
   “Nor do I.”
   I could hear his heavy breath on the other end. All this talking was wearing him out. “One hour, Knuckleball. As planned.” Click.

Corkscrew never changed his expression. “What’s up?”
   “Mayor still wants to meet.”
   “What are you gonna do, Kuckleb—”
   The window exploded, Corkscrew flew, crunched against the wall and crumpled to the floor.
   A voice came from the street. “Knuckleball, you bastard! I saw you shoot her! I’m gonna murder you!” McDoogle must’ve followed her here. And now he wanted revenge.

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