Post by "The Geriatric One" on Apr 16, 2010 22:07:02 GMT -6
(The male nurse from Waylon Hawthorne's retirement home in Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan sits at a desk. He is looking at a computer screen. One of the men in white coats walk into the office.)
WHITE COAT: Nurse Cratchett, I don't know how much more of this we can take. So far we've been hit by a car, and tasered, hogtied, and locked in a closet for 48 hours. That old man is much craftier than you gave him credit for.
NURSE CRATCHETT: I don't care if he throws you into the Moose Jaw River, you will find that cranky old coot and bring him to me. In my 12 years as head nurse of Wood Acres retirment home, no one has ever escaped my clutches. I will not have that record tarnished. That record is my ticket into the male nurse hall of fame.
WHITE COAT: Sir, there's no such thing as a male nurse hall of fame.
NURSE CRATCHETT: I know, but maybe they'll create one just for me.
WHITE COAT: Anyways, we don't even know where the old man is right now. He's supposed to be in Spokane on Saturday, but I really don't feel safe around the locker rooms of the SWA. They've got midgets, crazy clowns and worst of all they've got Justin Shaw from that lame boy band Watch Out.
NURSE CRATCHETT: Really! Can you get me his autograph?
(An awkward silence follows this statement.)
WHITE COAT: I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that.
NURSE CRATCHETT: Thank you. Fortunately I know exactly where Mr. Hawthorne is. I just received an email from one of my male nurse friends from Royal Alexandria Hospital in Edmonton. He is there recovering from a stab wound to the arm. That's where you'll find him.
(The scene cuts to "The Geriatric One" Waylon Hawthorne lying in a hospital bed. He has a bandage on his arm from the stab wound from his match against Mr. Kiljoy. He also has a bandage on his leg from where Frak bit him. Travis Malloy walks in with a microphone and a camera man. He stands next to the bed where Hawthorne is sleeping.)
MALLOY: Travis Malloy here with "The Geriatric One" Waylon Hawthorne. We are here at the Royal Alexandria Hospital in Edmonton, Alberta where Mr. Hawthorne is in recovery from the brutal stab wound he received at the hands of Mr. Kiljoy. Let's check in on his condition.
(Malloy leans down.)
MALLOY: Mr. Hawthorne... Mr. Hawthorne, it's Travis.
(Hawthorne wakes up and springs out of his bed. He punches Travis in the nose. Hawthorne rubs his eyes and notices that it is Travis he just punched.)
HAWTHORNE: Oh, Travis dear boy. I didn't realize it was you. I thought it might have been one of my kids coming to pull the plug and cash in on Life Insurance.
MALLOY: That's awful.
HAWTHORNE: It's ok. Jokes on them since I made Leslie Nielsen my beneficiary.
MALLOY: You know Leslie Nielsen?
HAWTHORNE: No, but I love his movies.
MALLOY: Right, well I'm here to get an update on your condition for the SWA fans.
HAWTHORNE: Don't you worry about me. You can't keep a good geezer down. They stitched me up, gave me a tetnus shot, and a rabies shot. I'm good as new.
MALLOY: Rabies shot?
HAWTHORNE: That little midget was foaming at the mouth. I just can't take any chances.
MALLOY: So, will you be ready to face DC Antonio this Saturday?
HAWTHORNE: Were not going to San Antonio you half wit. We're going to Spokane.
MALLOY: No, DC Antonio is the name of the guy you're up against. He's some kid who comes from a mobster family. He's apparently a pretty dangerous guy.
HAWTHORNE: That's a bunch of malarky. Kids these days don't know danger. I grew up on the mean streets of Saskatoon.
MALLOY: I'm pretty sure the streets of NYC are meaner than the streets of Saskatoon. Besides this guy has MMA training.
HAWTHORNE: MMA, ha! In my day we just used our fists. None of this prancing and skipping, and twisting. Just good old bare knuckled fist fights. If this San Antonio guy thinks that he can out fight me he's sadly mistaken. I'm "The Geriatric One", and I'm gonna get jiggy with it, in a geriatric fashion all over his Michael Corleone face. If he wants to go to the mattresses I'm game.
MALLOY: Well there you have it fans. Mr. Hawthorne is confident that he will be able to rise to the challenge at Saturday Night Fever.
(Malloy puts his microphone down on a table and shakes Mr. Hawthorne's hand.)
MALLOY: Thanks for the interview. Always a pleasure.
(Malloy leaves the room. A few seconds later one of the man in the white coat enters the room.)
WHITE COAT: AHA! I found you gramps. Now you're coming back to Wood Acres with me. Nurse Cratchett is most displeased with your actions.
(The door swings open and knocks the man in the white coat down. He hits his head hard on the ground. Travis Malloy busts through the door oblivious to what just happened.)
MALLOY: I forgot my microphone.
HAWTHORNE: That's twice your incompetence has benefited me.
MALLOY: What?
HAWTHORNE: Never mind.
(Malloy grabs his microphone and walks away whistling still oblivious to what had happened. Hawthorne picks the man in the white coat up and puts him in the bed. He takes the man's handcuffs and cuffs him to the bed. Hawthorne grabs the mans car keys and takes off. A moment later the man starts to come to his senses as a nurse walks into the room.)
NURSE: Ok Mr. Hawthorne. It's time for your enema.
WHITE COAT: Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!
WHITE COAT: Nurse Cratchett, I don't know how much more of this we can take. So far we've been hit by a car, and tasered, hogtied, and locked in a closet for 48 hours. That old man is much craftier than you gave him credit for.
NURSE CRATCHETT: I don't care if he throws you into the Moose Jaw River, you will find that cranky old coot and bring him to me. In my 12 years as head nurse of Wood Acres retirment home, no one has ever escaped my clutches. I will not have that record tarnished. That record is my ticket into the male nurse hall of fame.
WHITE COAT: Sir, there's no such thing as a male nurse hall of fame.
NURSE CRATCHETT: I know, but maybe they'll create one just for me.
WHITE COAT: Anyways, we don't even know where the old man is right now. He's supposed to be in Spokane on Saturday, but I really don't feel safe around the locker rooms of the SWA. They've got midgets, crazy clowns and worst of all they've got Justin Shaw from that lame boy band Watch Out.
NURSE CRATCHETT: Really! Can you get me his autograph?
(An awkward silence follows this statement.)
WHITE COAT: I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that.
NURSE CRATCHETT: Thank you. Fortunately I know exactly where Mr. Hawthorne is. I just received an email from one of my male nurse friends from Royal Alexandria Hospital in Edmonton. He is there recovering from a stab wound to the arm. That's where you'll find him.
(The scene cuts to "The Geriatric One" Waylon Hawthorne lying in a hospital bed. He has a bandage on his arm from the stab wound from his match against Mr. Kiljoy. He also has a bandage on his leg from where Frak bit him. Travis Malloy walks in with a microphone and a camera man. He stands next to the bed where Hawthorne is sleeping.)
MALLOY: Travis Malloy here with "The Geriatric One" Waylon Hawthorne. We are here at the Royal Alexandria Hospital in Edmonton, Alberta where Mr. Hawthorne is in recovery from the brutal stab wound he received at the hands of Mr. Kiljoy. Let's check in on his condition.
(Malloy leans down.)
MALLOY: Mr. Hawthorne... Mr. Hawthorne, it's Travis.
(Hawthorne wakes up and springs out of his bed. He punches Travis in the nose. Hawthorne rubs his eyes and notices that it is Travis he just punched.)
HAWTHORNE: Oh, Travis dear boy. I didn't realize it was you. I thought it might have been one of my kids coming to pull the plug and cash in on Life Insurance.
MALLOY: That's awful.
HAWTHORNE: It's ok. Jokes on them since I made Leslie Nielsen my beneficiary.
MALLOY: You know Leslie Nielsen?
HAWTHORNE: No, but I love his movies.
MALLOY: Right, well I'm here to get an update on your condition for the SWA fans.
HAWTHORNE: Don't you worry about me. You can't keep a good geezer down. They stitched me up, gave me a tetnus shot, and a rabies shot. I'm good as new.
MALLOY: Rabies shot?
HAWTHORNE: That little midget was foaming at the mouth. I just can't take any chances.
MALLOY: So, will you be ready to face DC Antonio this Saturday?
HAWTHORNE: Were not going to San Antonio you half wit. We're going to Spokane.
MALLOY: No, DC Antonio is the name of the guy you're up against. He's some kid who comes from a mobster family. He's apparently a pretty dangerous guy.
HAWTHORNE: That's a bunch of malarky. Kids these days don't know danger. I grew up on the mean streets of Saskatoon.
MALLOY: I'm pretty sure the streets of NYC are meaner than the streets of Saskatoon. Besides this guy has MMA training.
HAWTHORNE: MMA, ha! In my day we just used our fists. None of this prancing and skipping, and twisting. Just good old bare knuckled fist fights. If this San Antonio guy thinks that he can out fight me he's sadly mistaken. I'm "The Geriatric One", and I'm gonna get jiggy with it, in a geriatric fashion all over his Michael Corleone face. If he wants to go to the mattresses I'm game.
MALLOY: Well there you have it fans. Mr. Hawthorne is confident that he will be able to rise to the challenge at Saturday Night Fever.
(Malloy puts his microphone down on a table and shakes Mr. Hawthorne's hand.)
MALLOY: Thanks for the interview. Always a pleasure.
(Malloy leaves the room. A few seconds later one of the man in the white coat enters the room.)
WHITE COAT: AHA! I found you gramps. Now you're coming back to Wood Acres with me. Nurse Cratchett is most displeased with your actions.
(The door swings open and knocks the man in the white coat down. He hits his head hard on the ground. Travis Malloy busts through the door oblivious to what just happened.)
MALLOY: I forgot my microphone.
HAWTHORNE: That's twice your incompetence has benefited me.
MALLOY: What?
HAWTHORNE: Never mind.
(Malloy grabs his microphone and walks away whistling still oblivious to what had happened. Hawthorne picks the man in the white coat up and puts him in the bed. He takes the man's handcuffs and cuffs him to the bed. Hawthorne grabs the mans car keys and takes off. A moment later the man starts to come to his senses as a nurse walks into the room.)
NURSE: Ok Mr. Hawthorne. It's time for your enema.
WHITE COAT: Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!
