Donald Trump-et.

Karen: So, Mr Wilkins, you are applying for the position of sales manager.

W: Yes, which is to say, yes, yes I am.

K: I see, well, how about you start by telling me what you can offer this company.

W: Well, I don't like to blow my own trumpet, but I have a very nice trumpet.

K: You have a nice trumpet.

W: Yes.

K: How do you see this helping the company?

W: Well, if you had something you wanted to sell, I thought I could go outside on the street and blow my trumpet and sort of say 'Buy this'! It's great!

K: Mr Wilkins, we tend to focus on the print and televisual media... not trumpets.

W: Well, I think the trumpet idea still applies, regardless of the medium. You could put a picture of the trumpet in a newspaper, and it would catch people's eye. I imagine they would think 'gosh, look at that trumpet' and then underneath you'd write 'Cool things for sale' and give a PO box number, or a fax.

K: Mr Wilkins, your resume said you had years of experience in online marketing.

W: That may have been a typo.

K: I see. What was it supposed to say.

W: Level six jazz trumpet.

K: Mr Wilkins, I'm afraid you quite clearly have no qualifications whatsoever for this job.

W: No, which is to say, no, I don't.

K: You're a dim witted clot you just happens to have an unhealthy obsession with brass instuments.

W: Actually it's tin, but I take your point.

K: But, that being said, you're the only applicant we've had who isn't asian, so it's a pleasure to have you on board.

W: Gosh, thanks!

K: We'll be in touch.

Wilkins leaves the room. Outside a friend is waiting.

F: How'd it go?

W: Got it, no worries. I just hope she doesn't check up on that trumpet thing.

An average phone call that left him feeling so-so

ring-ring ring-ring

Waltman: Mike Waltman Speaking

Nurse: Mr.Waltman. Im calling from the hospital regarding your father.

Waltman: Yes?

Nurse: Im sorry to say, he passed on

Waltman: Oh my god

Nurse: It was a very difficult night last night

Waltman: Did he suffer?

Nurse: Terribly

Waltman: Oh lord

Nurse: We were unable to knock him out. He endured an inhuman amount of pain.

Waltman: Did he go quickly at least?

Nurse: Mr.Waltman, It was slow beyond comprehension. Too long for any person to be writhing in agony. Much too long for... anything.

Waltman. Oh Jesus.

Nurse: I'm so sorry

Waltman: Did any of my siblings make it in time to be with him and my mother?

Nurse: Your brother was here for a while

Waltman: But my father died with just his wife by his side?

Nurse: There was no one in the room with your father when he died. He was alone, with the door shut and the lights turned off.

Waltman: So no one heard his last words? How could this happen? Where was my mother?

Nurse: Your father had been screaming for hours. Making accusations, renouncing everything and everyone. Your father had a lot of regrets.

Waltman: And my mother?

Nurse: She left after he said he blamed her for ruining his life by getting pregnant and not aborting the fetus.

Waltman: Oh... god. Something in the dying process must have been affecting his mind

Nurse: I really can't see how. Your father came in with cardiac problems. His heart was under a lot of strain. Most likely regret-induced strain.

Waltman: So my dad died of a heart attack?

Nurse: The official cause of death is unhappiness, a percieved unfortunate series of events, a poorly led life.

Waltman: I can't verbalise how awful this makes me feel.

Nurse: I'm sorry

Waltman: May I ask what the last thing he ate was?

Nurse: Your mother brought in some creme brule

Waltman: That was his favourite. Its nice to be able to find some comfort in that

Nurse: he threw it up immediately

Alchemy at the butchers.

Ding ding. A man comes into a butchers shop. Behind the counter is a butcher, looking jolly.

A: Morning Tim!

B: Morning Eric. How's the family

A: Oh, good, good thanks. How are your boys?

B: They're fine, fine. Although it turns out Liam, the youngest, is actually a girl.

A: Oh?

B: Yes. Can't believe I missed it really.

A: We had a similar thing with our salamander. Apparently it comes from keeping the aquarium too hot.

B: That would be it then. Now, what can I do for you?

A: Well, funny you should ask. I was actually after some bread.

B: Bread?

A: Yeah.

B: Not really my line, Eric. I'm more in the meat side of the equation.

A: I thought you might say that. It's just that since the bakers closed down it's been a little difficult to get a hold of.

B: I understand the conundrum, mate. But I wouldn't know where to start.

A: Hmmm. I don't suppose it's possible to slice meat in such a way as it becomes bread, is it?

B: Not really.

A: What about a marinade?

B: A marinade that converts meat into bread?

A: Yes. Maybe you could do something with red wine and garlic.

B: I don't think so.

A: What about mincing? You sometimes get breadcrumbs in rissoles.

B: True. True. But I think you'll find that the breadcrumbs are added in later. In fact, they come from bread, rather than being a by-product of the mincing process.

A: Really?

B: Yep. It's the grated carrot and onion that come from the mincing.

A: Is that a fact?

B: No.

A: Hmmm. Well, I don't know what I'm going to do. I've got a barbecue this afternoon and people are going to be expecting bread.

(how can this end?)

Gritty Custard.

Gritty Custard.

A: Hey! Check this out

B: Check what out?

A: Well, I was just mucking about in the shed and I put this together,

B: Wow. what is it?

A: Not really sure, but if you press this button it squirts out a thick film of sort of gritty custard.

B: I can see how that would be useful.

A: Well, if you pull this lever it plays the chorus from "Breakfast at Tiffany's".

B: Oh, okay, that's pretty good I guess.

A: Yeah. Look, you can use this hard surface here for smashing the tops of beer bottles.

B: Hmmmm. Does it come with batteries?

A: That's the beauty of it. Yes.

B: What's that smell.

A: There's a possum stuck in there. It think it's distressed. I guess that's another function, it distresses possums.

B: And what's that sort of short pointed stick thing.

A: It's for getting stones out of horses hooves.

B: Lose it. What's it called?

A: I'm torn between 'The Tooth, The Tooth!' and iPod 2.

B: What about 'JAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAART'

A: Done.

Maybe revise this sketch and make it about someone who has invented 'gritty custard' and is trying to sell it to a food company. He could have a jingle and everything. I think the problem is that I'm trying to write this while watching television. And I don't have a concept before I start writing. This needs to change.

Die in your sleep. Do it.

Guy: Baby, I had a dream we were at a show and you just died.

Gal: Oh babe, Dont worry, it was just a dream, go back to sleep.

Guy: Yes I know it wasn't real, but can i not have some mourning time please? I just watched you die, I'd appreciate a little sensitivity.

Gal: Hey, Im the one that died

Guy: Yeah exactly, your pain is over. You got to die in someone elses sleep. How easy is that? Whereas I have to live with your dead body on my conscience. Physically laying on it.

Gal: Im right here you know

Guy: Yes I realise that, and do you know how hard that is on me? I haven't even come to terms with your absence yet. I'm pretty sure it's rude to force your reappearance on someone who isn't ready. Jesus, I didnt realise we were going to be dealing with some kind of indian giver god.

Gal: That's racist, and you dont believe in God

Guy: True but I think he's great as a comedic device, isnt he?