Lost Marbles in Two Acts

Posted on November 3, 2013 by BT

Man enters room. Six plastic chairs are in the room. Five people are sitting on five plastic chairs with one extra for the man. The chairs are arranged in a circle. The five people are drinking coffee. Each wears a hat.

Man: My name is Doug and I lost my marbles.

All Five: Come in, Doug, come in. We wear hats. This is the right place.

Man: Really? Do you have my marbles?

Lady Red Hat: Only you know that for sure.

Man: How could I? I don’t know if you have my marbles. But I know FOR SURE that I lost my marbles.

Fedora: How can you say that?

Fruit Hat: Yeah! How do you know you ever even had your marbles?

Baseball hat: And isn’t marbles just a generic term?

Man: What?

Bike Helmet: You know. It’s not specific enough. Perception is reality and all.

Man: Marbles! I lost my marbles. That’s what I’m looking for (pause, loud exhale) Pretty specific, eh?

Lady Red Hat: So you’re saying that you lost your marbles then?

Man: Yes! Exactly!

Lady Red Hat: How do you know your marbles aren’t the cause of your troubles to begin with?

Man: Who said I have troubles?

Baseball Hat: You said you lost your marbles. That sounds like trouble to me.

Other Hats: Yeah. Yeah it does.

Man: But who are you to judge me? Who are any of you and what gives you the right?

Bike Helmet: Well, we belong to a group. That’s what gives us the right.

Fedora: Yeah, that’s why I joined. (Holding a marble) When you’re in a group, you can do anything as long as everyone else does too.

Man: (Noticing the marble) Even steal my marbles?

Fedora: It’s not stealing. It’s finders-keepers.

Fruit Hat: (pointing at Man) Yeah, losers-weepers!

Bike Helmet: And as a group we can judge without having to think. We can judge you and we did and we think you are guilty.

Man: Guilty? Guilty of what? This is preposterous.

Lady Red Hat: We judged him? Guilty? I don’t really recall that. But, well, okay. As long as I don’t have to think.

Man: Guilty of what?

Fruit Hat: I voted guilty?

Fedora: I do what everyone says.

Bike helmet: Look look at him. Guilty as hell.

Man: Guilty of what?

Fruit Hat: Yeah, guilty of what?

Baseball hat: Why, guilty of having troubles, of course. It’s obvious, isn’t it? You, sir, are a man without marbles.

Fruit Hat: Oh, guilty of that.

Fedora: Wow, he does have issues. (staring at man) You need to join a group and get a hat.

Man: Will that help me find my marbles?

Fedora: Well, you’ll be in group.

Fruit Hat: And you’ll have a hat.

—
ACT 2

Same room. Now six plastic chairs and a table in the middle. Bike Helmet is seated at the head of the table on a wobbly chair. On top of the table is a glass goldfish bowl filled with marbles. The man who entered the room at the beginning of play is now wearing a beanie with a propeller on top.

Man: Look, I have a hat.

Bike helmet: Now you are part of the group.

Man to Bike Helmet: What’s wrong with your chair?

Bike Helmet: I’ve got a few loose screws. That’s why I think I am in charge of the group.

Man: Why did the group steal my marbles?

Fedora (Incredulous): How can you be sure these are your marbles?

Man: They must be.

Baseball Hat: Why? Just because you lost your marbles and now there are marbles here, you think these are your marbles. Really? What if someone purchased marbles and brought them here?

Man: That’s silly. Where would anyone buy marbles?

Bike Helmet: At the marble store, where else?

Man: Money can’t buy marbles.

Bike Helmet: Money buys everything.

Man: Even marbles?

Bike Helmet: There’s always a store.

Lady Red Hat: If you have your marbles, the only other thing you need is your health.

Baseball Hat: And money. You need money.

Fedora: No you don’t.

Bike helmet: I do. How do you think I bought these marbles?

Baseball Hat: I knew it!

Man: Hey, those are my marbles.

Baseball Hat: He just said he bought those marbles, and now you think those are your marbles? That’s funny. You have really have lost your marbles, haven’t you?

Man: (Stands) That’s it. I’m going home.

Baseball hat: Where do you live?

Man: In that building, over there, where the elevator doesn’t go all the way to the top.

Baseball hat: Hey, I live there too.

Fruit Hat: So do I.

Fedora: I’ve lived there all my life.

Lady Red Hat: I live there too. Let’s all walk there together.

Fruit Hat: When we get there, do you want to play cards?

Lady Red Hat: Sure, but I don’t have a full deck.

Fruit Hat: I never play with a full deck of cards.

Everyone leaves the room. No one takes the marbles. Next to them is the beanie with the propeller on top.

THE END

The Assault Cheeseburger Ban

Posted on March 25, 2013 by BT

First they came for my big gulp sodas, but I said nothing because I don’t like big gulp sodas.

Then they came for… well, they haven’t come for anything else yet, but just wait. Freedom and liberty are at stake, or steak. Maybe they are coming for steak. I would, if someone was serving steak. But I am not them.

They are mean people who do not like freedom or liberty and so I am afraid that by the time they come for the cheeseburgers there will be no one left to speak for the cheeseburgers. It is an historically slippery slope.

Actually, first they came for assault weapons, but no one took that talk seriously.

Holy Green Beer And Cheeseburgers!

Posted on March 17, 2013 by BT

Happy St. Patrick’s Day! After St. Patrick killed the snakes, he cooked cheeseburgers for everyone in Ireland, right?

Cheeseburgers and potatoes; probably French fries.

It’s hard not to feel especially Catholic these days, what with a new pope and all. So after a brutal primary campaign and three televised debates, a new pope has taken the oath of office. With the most fun Catholic holiday upon us, is there a better time to talk about a little rebranding? Wine and wafers were so last pope. It’s time to move to beer and cheeseburgers.

You know, update the whole model more along the lines of Buffalo Wild Wings, where the bartender can speed up the sermon with the remote control. Of course, there would be a bartender. It’s St. Patrick’s Day.

It’s a perfectly logical evolution. Argentina is known for beef. Pope Francis is from Argentina. So does a new Pope mean cheeseburgers in church? It would be easier to do than involving women.

Dennis Rodman’s Cheeseburger Diplomacy

Posted on March 4, 2013 by BT

Dennis Rodman, as secretary of state for the nation of Freecheezeburgerz, was given a suitcase full of cheeseburgers and one assignment. Pick a best friend.

That is how our president, me, ended up in a fantasy basketball league with Kim Jong Un. The point is that you can give a suitcase full of cheeseburgers to virtually anyone and make peace with absolutely anyone else. This has now been proven.

As a country, Free Cheezeburgerz did not set out to make peace with anyone. What’s the point of that? Our country just wanted a new friend.

There are so many nations, it can make your head spin. That is why our nation chose Dennis Rodman as secretary of state. He has enough piercings in his head to stop it from spinning.

Our country honestly thought finding a best friend would be a deliberative process by Dennis Rodman, as if he was signing with an NBA team. We figured he’d get a high-powered agent involved in the negotiations with multiple countries, and there would be all sorts of gamesmanship as these countries vied to be our new best friend. Our country even thought of hiring Jim Gray to do a show on ESPN. We could call it, The New Best Friend Decision.

The truth is, Free Cheezeburgerz is a bit of a novice at being a country but we like sports. So after we declared our independence, and I was unanimously elected president, we received a resume from Dennis Rodman, and we had an epiphany.

We need a foreign policy, we thought.

Naturally, Dennis Rodman was the best person to represent Freecheezeburgerz all over the world. Still, when he returned and said Kim Jong Un wants us to call him and talk basketball, we sarcastically asked if Mahmoud Ahmadinejad was too busy. Dennis Rodman said yes.

Papal Cheeseburgers; watching the smoke

Posted on March 2, 2013 by BT

If black smoke equals no pope and white smoke equals a new pope, does gray smoke mean the cheeseburgers are done? Holy smoke!

Only someone with great training and a link to the all-knowing can determine when the cheeseburgers are done.

So what about the waiting-for-masses who are also waiting at the papal drive-through window? Surely they see the “help wanted” sign posted.

Should they believe the cheeseburgers will still be good? Well, yes, of course they should believe the cheeseburgers will be good.

Cheeseburgers come from a higher power.

Gray smoke simply means that the cheeseburgers are almost done. Many people in the faith have different theological opinions on when the cheeseburgers are done. That’s why the world needs a new pope.

Because for each of us, the way to cook a cheeseburger feels like a papal order.

Amen.

Eat The Cure

Posted on December 11, 2012 by BT

I was looking through my favorite pharmaceutical company’s recent catalog trying to decide whether I would look better on a hair-growth drug or a weight-loss supplement when I realized I am depressed that I am not depressed.

Then I didn’t think about it for a little while, which made me at least hopeful that I have Adult ADD.

I think something bothers me. Or more accurately – I think, therefore something bothers me. It seems that if there is nothing wrong with you in modern America, something is wrong with you. What is wrong with you? That is the question.

Is it nobler to suffer the slings and arrows of real disease or to succumb to the guilty pressure of jingly advertising? The people selling the snake oil do not care. They just want you to buy their pharmaceutical cure. But first, you need assurance that something bothers you.

That’s why I have been taking prescription-strength cheeseburgers for my high cholesterol. They are safer on my heart than what you can get off the street. And yes, if I am hungry and I see a cheeseburger laying in a puddle of oil and mud, I always eat it. Don’t you?

So I was looking at my yellow toenails and scratching my elbows thinking of all this when in walked my special lady. She smiled at me like she wanted up to four hours of fun right now.

But I hadn’t taken my cheeseburger.

Plus, I was having problems sleeping. For the first time in my adult life, I felt like I belonged. I needed someone to talk to so I joined a group – Cheeseburgers Anonymous.

Finally, I was depressed. This made me ecstatic.

Because cheeseburgers taste good.

Austerity in the Cheeseburger Eurozone

Posted on May 25, 2012 by BT

French fries, or German potato salad for the holiday weekend?

The state of Freecheezeburgerz is in the midst of it’s own Eurozone crisis. A high-ranking government official was seen leaving the kitchen talking about not being able to stand the heat. Traveling with that official was a male deer, a buck. The buck left here. It never stopped.

Austerity measures in the Cheeseburger Eurozone have been so severe that there are no potatoes. The Freecheezeburgerz intelligence service discovered a prominent display of a decades-old promise from France and Germany that there would be potatoes. In the meantime, the French and the Germans are demanding to know what the state of Freecheezeburgerz plans to do with the potatoes that do not exist. In return, both embassies have been pummeled with potato peelers.

A poll shows that most citizens are not thinking about potatoes. They are thinking of cheeseburgers.

The Cheeseburger Economy

Posted on May 23, 2012 by BT

Cheeseburger eaters are the real American job creators.

The Freecheezeburgerz job creation test has shown that at least four jobs are created from every customer of the cheeseburger economy. This corporation’s research and development team used disruptive toppings, and discovered excellent prospects for creating lots of work when one customer in this test kitchen wanted a cheeseburger.

That cheeseburger led directly to four jobs created:

One person prepared the burger
One person cooked the burger
One person served the burger
One person cleaned up afterward

Freecheezeburgerz’s CEO touted this labor intensive boost to manufacturing. The cheeseburger economy has led to jobs also in innovation, art, and in some cases, engineering. Plus, of course, the big role of transportation and security.

So eat a cheeseburger and create four American jobs for yourself.

Fuzzy political math is fun, and tasty.

The IPO; When Bane-Of-My-Existence Capital Came To Town

Posted on May 22, 2012 by BT

The IPO of Free Cheezeburgerz went well, thanks for asking.

There was one share for sale and, as expected, the the one share sold for $0.01. But the next day the angel investor exited, causing the stock price to plummet. The net worth of the corporation is now best defined as starving. The mission statement now reads, “Find a free cheeseburger.”

At first, private equity was nice by helping fund the last Free Cheeseburger created in the kitchen. But then Bane-of-My-Existence Capital maneuvered a hostile takeover of the Free Cheeseburger, subsequently firing the all of the employee (not plural) of the firm and refusing to pay the promised pension of one Free Cheeseburger.

That’s what happened when Bane came to town.

Free Cheeseburgers

Cheeseburger News

Category Archives: Uncategorized