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April 29, 2006
Dangerous Minds
Journey with me now into the hallowed halls of California State University - Long Beach, where the "Writing Comic Strips 101" class has just begun. The students quietly rush into the room - they're in for a special treat. Today their instructor has arranged for a guest speaker.
"Students, please take your seats," their teacher orders as the last few stragglers stream in. "Now, can any of you name THE best political comic strip today?"
Several hands shoot up.
"Doonesbury?" someone yells. "Mallard Fillmore?" cries another, "or Boondocks?" "Marmaduke?" yells one smart ass.
"No no no," the teacher scolds them, shaking his head. "I want you all to please welcome THE best comic writer in the business today - and a graduate of our very own Cal State U - Prickly City creator Scott Stantis!"
The teacher begins to clap, ushering Scott up to the podium. The students look at each other baffled, but politely applaud their almost-famous celebrity guest. Scott walks up to the front of the room, absorbing the love of his fellow alum. However once up to the podium, he leans over to the professor and whispers into his ear.
"You what?" the professor asks. "What do you mean you never graduated?" he exclaims, unaware that it's loud enough for everyone to hear. Mr. Stantis politely shoves the old man out of the way, soaking up the love and adulation of his almost-alums.
"Thank you, thank you," Scott smiles, adjusting his bow tie. "I just flew in and boy are my arms tired." The room goes silent. Someone farts. The students giggle. Scott adjusts his bow tie again. "I'd like to start things off with a basic comedic rule I learned a long time ago, although it wasn't in this class since it wasn't here when I first attended Cal State U. For some reason they thought they should have it after I left, I'm not sure why. In any event, this rule is something I think everyone can use and I guarantee it will make you a funnier comedic writer. Are you ready?"
The young minds lean forward in their seats, not wanting to miss a word of Mr. Stantis's comic wisdom.
"I'll start you off with a question. Who can name a funny TV show theme song that everyone knows and everyone can sing?"
The students look at each other. Soon, answers are being shouted out.
"Cheers?"
"Married...with Children?"
"The Brady Bunch!"
"CHiPs!" one smart ass yells out.
The crowd quiets. Scott can only shake his head.
"No no no," he cries, "hasn't your teacher taught you anything?" Scott shoots an evil eye at the professor, who stands in the corner flipping through a yearbook trying to find out if Scott Stantis even went to this university.
"The funniest sitcom theme song that EVERYONE knows is...Seinfeld," Scott informs them.
The students look at each other, puzzled.
A gorgeous young hispanic woman, ponytails in her hair, raises her hand. "Mr. Stantis?" she asks, her voice trembling. "Can you please sing for us the theme song to 'Seinfeld?' Because I don't remember it. I'm not even sure they had a theme. Just that guy clapping and popping. They didn't even have a show open, did they?"
Scott Stantis's jovial smile turns into a sneer, his eyes lowering at the child who DARE question his comedic superiority. "Of course I can sing it," he grumbles, the vein in his forehead popping out. Scott closes his eyes. He bops his head back and forth, recalling the theme from his mental vault. "Dunnu nuh nuh - nu nuh!" he hums. "There, see! I did it."
Once again the class is confused.
"Don't you get it?!" Scott yells. "Seinfeld is the funniest show ever! Therefore, whenever you reference a sitcom, you HAVE TO REFERENCE SEINFELD! Geez, what are they teaching you here?" Scott laughs to himself nervously. "I mean come on, who doesn't love Seinfeld, right? I mean that George - he was a real character."
The professor rushes up to the front of the room, shoving Mr. Stantis away from the podium.
"Scott Stantis, everyone!" he smiles, clapping loudly. Some students follow suit. The professor leans over to his phone, pressing the loudspeaker button. "Can someone have security escort out our famous guest? Thanks."
As Scott exits the room into the hallway, where two burly young men stand waiting to shake his hand and grab him by the arms, one student is overheard saying to the one next to him, "Boy, I'd sure love to hammer a sense of humor up his ass."
Comments
In the parlance of last week, my friend, that was "fucking brilliant."
Posted by: CJo at April 29, 2006 04:28 PM
This just in, the Republican elephant committed suicide.
http://cagle.com/working/060428/stantis.gif
Posted by: Charles Brubaker at April 29, 2006 11:44 PM
