A-Mails (The Second E-mail Thread Collaboration): ROUND TWO!!

[Adam Adderly]

A word of warning: WHEN VOTING, DO NOT VOTE FOR THE E-MAIL YOU LIKE THE MOST! VOTE FOR THE ONE YOU LIKE THE LEAST. YOU WILL BE VERY SAD IF YOU VOTE FOR THE ONE YOU LIKE THE MOST. THANK YOU.


Hey, everyone. Yeah, this is Lufis. This account is for the explicit reason to hold all the posts I will have to make i this thread, as I requested to be allowed by the forum administration. But I digress.

Welcome to A-Mails! Or, should I say, Welcome to the Second E-mail Thread Collaboration! We have a great showing this time, with vets and newbies showing their skills.

At this point, I would like to say: Collaborators, please, keep your inclusion in this competition a SECRET. You can post in this thread, but PLEASE: do NOT post any completed e-mails in this thread. Send those to this alt. Do NOT make ANY mention in ANY area that you are in this competition, and PLEASE, do not try to get people to vote for a certain e-mail.

That said, collaborators, you CAN post comments in this thread. They, however, cannot implicate the fact that you are in this competition.


Now that the messy stuff is out of the way, let's get the cast of characters out here!


Adam Adderly (Adam): Adam is pretty dull and boring. He takes things too literally, works in a shoe factory, and enjoys drawing in his free time, mainly boring things like socks and rocks.

Bother: Bother is... well, he's a bother. He shows up from time to time and starts breaking things and hitting people in the arm. He doesn't say much, but he does yell "Bother" a lot when he's busy smashing things.

Dr. Robert P. McGee, M.D., Ph.D, MSG (Rob): Rob is Adam's quick-talking, conman cousin. He'll sell you something that already belongs to you so fast, it's almost supernatural.

Patricia Adderly (Patricia): Patricia is a dark and troubled girl most of the time, though not to the extent of some. She hates something different every day, and this hatred varies between things like scrub brushes to people like Adam. She's Adam's sister.

Horace Nexus (Horace): Horace is the old man who lives next door. He served in The War, and thinks his lawn flamingos are actually enemy soldiers. Rob likes to arrange the flamingos in different patters each day, adding to Horace's confusion.

Tod: Tod is the Normsville Putt-Putt Champion, and really, really, really, REALLY likes frogs.

[Adam Adderly]

E-mail #1-1: Political Bargainings, One

(Cut to Adam walking through the front door of his house.)

Adam: Ah, what a great day of shoelace manufacturing. I think I shall check my e-mail.

(Adam walks to his office room and logs onto his computer, then opens his e-mail.)






Dear Mr. Adderly:

I am a representative of the Political Party Local Chapter #152 in Normsville. We appreciate voting for our candidate in the Election a couple of years ago, and would like to request you aid once again. We need money. And lots of it. Will you, or anyone in your neighborhood, give us some money?

Sincerely,
Congressguy Jim I. Hendricks, Political Party Local Chapter #152 in Normsville.

P.S.: Put all funds on your front lawn, along with some cottage cheese. I like cottage cheese.






Adam: Oh, yes, I remember that election. However, I am sorry to inform you that being a simple worker in a shoe factory, I have very little money. I see you suggested asking people in the neighborhood. Thank you for your suggestion, Mr. Hendricks. I shall do that right now.

(Adam proceeds to exit his house. While locking his front door, Bother jumps off of the roof and lands next to Adam.)

Adam: Oh, hello. I was just going to go look for you. I have a quest-

(Before he finishes, Bother smacks Adam in the arm.)

Bother: Bother!

Adam: … I have a question to ask you. This nice man from the government sent me a-

(Bother quickly hits Adam again in the arm.)

Bother: Bother?

Adam: Yes, anyways, he asked me for donations to his political group.

(Bother hits Adam three times)

Bother: Bother, bother! Bother.

Adam: Why do you have to be such a bother?

(Bother, feeling satisfied enough, climbs back onto Adam’s roof, and jumps to the next house’s roof. He jumps to the next house, and continues in the fashion down the street. Cut to inside Horace's house. Ol’ Horace Nexus is awakened by a loud banging on his roof.)

Horace: Oh no! Everyone, battle stations! They’ve gotten through the first barricade!

(Horace reaches into the couch and pulls out a pistol. He fires all of the bullets at his ceiling , reloads, and rolls onto the floor. He waits with his gun pointed at his front door, but quickly falls back to sleep. Cut to outside, where Adam sees several bullets fly out of Mr. Nexus’ roof.)

Adam: *sigh* …I better go see if he’s alright…

(Adam knocks on Horrace’s door. Horrace wakes up, startled, and fires twice at the door [which already has many bullet holes in it, from past events]. The bullets barely miss Adam’s head.)

Adam: Mr. Nexus, it’s just me! Adam!

(Horrace gets up and cautiously walks to the door. He cracks it slightly, peering out.)

Horrace: Adam?

Adam: Yes, I’m Adam.

(Horrace squits, but then opens the door. He now seems happy and carefree.)

Horrace: Ah, how are you, Adam?

Adam: I’m okay. How about you? I saw some bullets fly out of your roof.

(Horrace’s calm state of being disappears, and he slams the door.)

Horrace: Run, Adam! They’re attacking again!

(Several gunshots are heard.)

Adam: So, I guess you wouldn’t be interested in donating some money to Normsville Political Party Local Chapter #152?

(More gunshots. A bullet flies through a window and hits a lawn flamingo in the head. The flamingo falls over.)

Adam: Guess not.

(Patricia walks up.)

Patricia: What’s up with him?

Adam: The usual.

Patricia: Oh.

Adam: Hey, by the way, would you like to donate some money to an unpopular political party?

Patricia: …I hate money.

Adam: Oh, great…

Patricia: It’s a horrible thing. It turns normal, respectful people into insane, greed-driven monsters. 

Adam: Never mind; forget that I brought it up…

Patricia: Never! Money is the cause of so many international problems! And you just waltz up and ask if I’ll give you any!  How could I just forget about it?

Adam: Actually, you walked up to me.

Patricia: That’s not the point, Adam! I’m disappointed in you! How could you not be against money? It’s so despicable, so deceitful, so … enraging! It’s –

(At this point, Adam walks away, ignoring his sister. He walks quietly for a few minutes, and spots Tod in front of his house. He walks over to him.)

Adam: Hey, Tod.

Tod: Oh, hey. I was just looking for you. Want to go help me catch some frogs? There’s a nice swamp not too far from here. Only about 48 miles away.

Adam: Um…no, thanks. But, I wanted to ask you something. Would you like to donate any money to a political party? They need some funds so they can have someone run for …some…position, I forget which.

Tod: Hmm…well what are their stance of frogs?

Adam: What?

Tod: Like… are they for or against frogs?

Adam: I don’t know.

Tod: Well, in that case, I’m sorry, I can’t help you.

Adam: Oh, ok.

(Rob is walking across the street. He sees Tod and Adam, and runs over to them.)

Rob: Hey, guys, I need your help.

Adam: With what?

Rob: Well, there’s these guys, right? They think I owe them some money, but I really don’t, 'kay? And they’re really big, and they know a lot of people, and stuff. But, I’m low on cash right now. You guys got any you can spare?

Tod: Well…I dunno…

Rob: Come on guys, I’ll pay ya back later, once these guys leave me alone.

(Adam opens his wallet.)

Adam: I only have a 10 on me right now.

Rob: That’s ok, man…I can ask some other people. Where’s your sister?

Adam: Um…you don’t want to ask her.

Rob: oh…..'kay.

Tod: I’ve got 20 dollars on me, I think…

Rob: Ah, good.

(Rob takes the $30, and hurries down the street. He goes into the gas station, and comes out a few minutes later with a slushie. He returns to Tod and Adam.)

Rob: Thanks, guys.

Tod: What?

Rob: For the slushie.

Tod: Where’s the big guys that know people?

Rob: I made them up. I just needed some cash.

Adam: You could have just asked us to get you a drink.

Rob: You wouldn’t have given me anything, then.

Tod: That’s true. Anyways, at least give back the extra.

Rob: Oh, I spent it all.

(A series of gunshots are heard from next door.)

Adam: …that one slushie was 30 dollars?

Rob: Yeah.

Tod and Adam: …

Tod: Ok, see you guys later. I’ve got me some frogs to catch.

Adam: Goodbye. I also have to go. I should reply to that nice government man; he must be awaiting my e-mail…

Rob: Yeah, ok. Bye.

(The three leave, and Adam finishes his reply for Mr. Hendricks.)

Adam: I’m very sorry, Mr. Hendricks, but it seems that absolutely no one in town has much money to donate. In fact, in the last three minutes, I actually lost ten dollars. I hope that you can find some funds by election-time. Thank you for taking an interest in the community. Sincerely, Adam Adderly.

[Adam Adderly]

E-mail #1-2: Political Bargainings, Two

(Open on a computer room. Adam walks up to the stool and hesitates for a moment.)

Adam: Hmm...I'd check my email...but then again...is it really worth sitting down there? Man, this is a really difficult decision. Maybe I should sit down to think about it.

(Adam sits down and then realizes that he is actually sitting. He turns to his computer.)

Adam: Maybe if I check my email, I'll actually get an email.





Dear Mr. Adderly:

I am a representative of the Political Party Local Chapter #152 in Normsville. We appreciate voting for our candidate in the Election a couple of years ago, and would like to request you aid once again. We need money. And lots of it. Will you, or anyone in your neighborhood, give us some money?

Sincerely,
Congressguy Jim I. Hendricks, Political Party Local Chapter #152 in Normsville.

P.S.: Put all funds on your front lawn, along with some cottage cheese. I like cottage cheese.





Adam: Whoa. He actually knows my name. It feels weird to get an email from someone who isn't a spamming political robot with very cheap deals on bizarre medication.

Anyways...I don't even remember voting. I'm pretty sure you're either talking about something that never happened or something that seldom happened. But...on the other hand, you used both a "Sincerely" and a "PS." And since I have no money, I suppose that I can go wander around until someone gives me money to stop.

(Cut to a Putt-Putt course. Tod is carefully lining up a shot. He lines up to putt but notices that Adam is staring at him.)

Tod: Uh...can I help you?

Adam: Oh. Hi. Good weather we're give me some money.

Tod: Pardon?

Adam: Yeah. Uh...it's for some cause.

Tod: I'm not big on most things.

Adam: What do you like?

Tod: Golf. Frogs. Frogs playing golf.

Adam: Whoa. That does sound like a good cause!

(Adam hands Tod a handful of money and walks away. Cut to Patricia and Horace. They are talking on Horace's lawn.)

Horace: ...And that's why relish is no good either. Now, onto ketchup...

Patricia: (sighs) Please...

(Adam walks up, trying to act like an authority figure.)

Adam: Excuse me, sir and lady-sir. Talking outside on a Thursday, huh? That'll be ninety dollars.

Patricia: Money? Money is terrible. It's just paper. Paper. Paper and metal. Metallic paper. Stop wanting it. It wants to spend you. Not the other way around. You've gotta-

Adam: (turning to Horace) How about you?

Horace: Are you here for my bills?

Adam: No.

Horace: Are you here about the flamingos?

Adam: No.

Horace: You can't trust flamingos. Just when you think you've counted them all, there's always-

(Adam walks off. Cut to Adam, talking to Bother.)

Adam: OK, so we're agreed, right? If I can punch you in the arm faster than you can punch me in the arm, I win. That's the deal?

(Bother pauses for a second and then punches Adam in the arm.)

Adam: I didn't say "go."

(Bother blinks and overturns a desk)

Adam: I really don't think-

(Bother pauses and stares blankly. Adam backs away. Cut back to Adam's computer room. He is typing.)

Adam: So...I guess I'm going to have to send you an e-card instead of any money. Happy...uh...belated birthday?

(Rob walks in.)

Rob: What are you doing with that outdated spyrograph?

Adam: (turns to him) You mean my computer? I like to use it to play Snakes.

Rob: But why have one computer when you can have...TWO computers at once.

Adam: Whoa. Keep talking.

Rob: Alright. I'll sell you that computer you're using right now. Then you'll have the computer that you're currently using, plus the computer that you're using right now!

Adam: I'll get the penny jar.

[Adam Adderly]

E-mail #1-3: Political Bargainings, Three

(Open to Adam laying on his bed, talking to a rock.)

Adam: Rock, you’re my best friend. You’re my best friend too, Adam. Aww, you’re so cool. You’re like a whole bucket of cool. A bucket. Of cool.

(Adam turns to the “camera.”)

Adam: Oh, gracious. Good day, readers. I am Adam Adderly. That’s short for Adam Adderly. But my friends call me Adam Adderly. This is a rock. And this is a bed.

(Adam stands up.)

Adam: So, it’s been brought to my attention that witty wordplay is the name of the electronic-mail-thread game. I was up all last night, but I think I’ve got some dialogue that’ll blow away the competition. Ahem, ahem. Ahem. A-he-he-he-hem. Ahem. Ahem. “I dined with nine wives.” See what I did there? Those all have the letter “i” as their second letter. Man. I amaze myself sometimes. Amaze.

(There is a several moment pause.)

Adam: Apparently there is also an electronic-mail component to this electronic-mail thread. Apparently.

(Adam goes over to a computer and goes to his inbox.)





Dear Mr. Adderly:

I am a representative of the Political Party Local Chapter #152 in Normsville. We appreciate voting for our candidate in the Election a couple of years ago, and would like to request you aid once again. We need money. And lots of it. Will you, or anyone in your neighborhood, give us some money?

Sincerely,
Congressguy Jim I. Hendricks, Political Party Local Chapter #152 in Normsville.

P.S.: Put all funds on your front lawn, along with some cottage cheese. I like cottage cheese.





Adam: Man, comedic gold on the first electronic-mail. Clearly I’m gunna have some hijinks on this one.

(Adam goes into his kitchen. He pours himself a glass of milk and sips at it every couple of moments. It takes about five minutes for him to finish the glass. After every sip he smacks his lips a few times.)

Adam: Now that my calcium is up to its suggested amount, I can get to answering the viewer’s question. Yes, I will give you some money.

(Adam takes some cottage cheese out of the refrigerator. Going outside, he puts that and his wallet on the welcome mat.)

Adam: Wow. What a turn of events. I put my money and some cottage cheese out front. Wow. What a turn of events. Good thing I vote. Good thing I’m American.

(Suddenly we hear a battle cry off in the distance.)

??????: BOTHER!!!

Adam: Oh, my. Characters. Now this is just too much to ask for.

(Bother runs up and begins stepping on the cottage cheese.)

Adam: I must request that you cease-

(Bother punches him in the arm.)

Bother: BOTHER!!!

Adam: What a zany coincidence. That’s your name. I can shout my name too. (not breaking his monotone) Adam. Heh. Heh. Heh. Heh.

(Bother runs off. Rob walks up, whistling nonchalantly.)

Adam: Why, if it isn’t my cousin Rob. What a surprise. A pleasant surprise. I’m surprised, and simultaneously pleased. I bet the viewers at home are surprised, and simultaneously pleased.

Rob: Wassup Adam. I’m here for the mon…I mean…I’m here to…shake hands with…the representative who wants to take the money. And maybe kiss his baby. Or is it the other way around?

Adam: Oh Rob, you’re so sly.

Rob: I…haven’t done anything yet…

Adam: You’re so sly, Rob. Oh.

Rob: Soo…

(Rob bends over and picks up the wallet, now covered in cottage cheese from Bother’s rampage.)

Rob: Hey, look, a wallet. It seems to have $20 in it.

Adam: I had a wallet with $20 once. But I dropped it right where you picked up that other one, and I lost it.

Rob: I sell you this one for $30.

Adam: What would I do without you, Rob?

(Adam pulls out a second wallet, this one with obviously more money bulging out of it. They trade.)

Adam: Oh Rob, you’re so sly. I walked right into that con job.

Rob: …You take all the fun out of this.

Adam: So Rob, what other shenanigans are you up to today? Gunna step in ol’ Mrs. Wilson’s flower garden? Hoo. Hah. Hoo. Hah. Or maybe you’ll wear a hat to church. Hoo. Hah. Hoo. Hah. Oh Rob, you’re so sly.

(Rob is long gone. Adam looks around.)

Adam: Oh Rob, you’re so-

(The scene quickly cuts to Rob re-arranging a bunch of flamingos in a lawn. He puts them into formation, the runs up and rings the doorbell to the house, and runs off. Horace comes to the door in a wheelchair, with a rifle on his lap and a camouflage hat on his head.)

Horace: BACK FOR MORE, EH? DIE, GERMAN SCUM!

(Horace pulls out a grenade. He then pulls out a pair of plastic teeth, and uses those to pull off the trigger. He throws the grenade into his lawn and slams the door. Rob walks over, picks up the grenade, and takes a bite out of it. It is in fact a green Jell-O Easter egg.)

Rob: I should probably get a job or something.

(Adam walks back over.)

Adam: Oh, there you are. I was just going to introduce the viewers at home to old man Horace Nexus. He’s a crazy man, isn’t he? Crazy funny, that is. Crazy in a funny way.

Rob: Yeah, you could say that.

(He goes to take another bite out of the Jell-O egg, when a frog lands on his hand and eats the rest of it. It ‘ribbits’ at Rob, who’s staring at it with a horrified curiosity.)

Adam: Why, if it isn’t a frog. That’s almost enough excitement to make me use an exclamation mark. Almost.

Rob: Get it off my arm…

(Todd comes running over. There’s another frog on his head. Todd retrieves the frog on Rob’s arm and places it next to his headfrog.)

Todd: You give us quite a scare Mr. Ribbit! Mrs. Ribbit was lonely!

Rob: You little freak…

Todd: Don’t call Mr. Ribbit a freak!

Rob: I wasn’t talking to him!

Todd: (gasping) You can’t talk to a woman like that!

Rob: I was talking to you, you ding-dong!

Adam: Hoo. Hah. Hoo. Hah. Your banter really tickles my funny bone. Hooo haaaah.

Rob & Todd: Shut up, Adam!

(There is a high-pitched “eeek!” from off-screen. Patricia comes running up, a frog on her head.)

Todd: There you are, Ribbit Jr!

Patricia: I HATE frogs! I HATE them!

Adam: Oh Patricia, you’re so sly. Wait. No you’re not. Has anyone here met my rock?

Horace: (calling from inside his house) YOU STILL OUT THERE, YOU STINKING COWARDS?

(Rob hastily throws all the plastic flamingos in a bush. Horace opens the door.)

Horace: OH, KIDS! HOW’S IT GOING?

(He wheels down the stairs over to them.)

Horace: HAPPY EASTER!

Adam: But Mr. Nexus, Easter isn’t for a few more weeks.

Horace: REALLY? BUT I’VE MADE ALL THESE JELL-O EASTER EGGS!

(He pulls out a basket filled with grenades.)

Rob: Um…

(They all explode. When the smoke clears, they’re all standing, singed, covered in soot, with their clothes ragged.)

Adam: Hoo. Hah. Hoo. Hah.

(Rob picks up his pet rock and hits Adam over the head with it.)

[Adam Adderly]

E-mail #1-4: Political Bargainings, Four

(Cut to Adam's computer room. It's void of any characters.)

????????(voiceover): (Girl's voice, slightly apathetic) Welcome to Normsville, quite possibly the most boring place ever. And over here, in this grey house, lives Adam Adderly, quite possibly the most boring person ever. Take a look.

(Adam enters the computer room. The computer is running.)

Adam: I better check my junk mail. I wonder if that travel agency replied to my letter about pigeons. I mean... everybody likes pigeons. Winged cats, they call them, and who doesn't love a good kitten, that's what I want to know. I mean, it seems that just the other day I was-

Computer: For the love of everything, take this email and leave me alone!

(The computer prints an email and shuts itself down.)

Adam: All right, communication! Lemme see...





Dear Mr. Adderly:

I am a representative of the Political Party Local Chapter #152 in Normsville. We appreciate voting for our candidate in the Election a couple of years ago, and would like to request you aid once again. We need money. And lots of it. Will you, or anyone in your neighborhood, give us some money?

Sincerely,
Congressguy Jim I. Hendricks, Political Party Local Chapter #152 in Normsville.

P.S.: Put all funds on your front lawn, along with some cottage cheese. I like cottage cheese.





(Cut to a house two doors down)

???????? (voiceover): See that guy there, in the doorway? That's Tod, one of Adam's friends. No, that's mixed up. What I mean is, Adam's one friend. And outside is Dr. Robert P. McGee, M.D, PH.D, MSG, ROTFL. I may have made the last one up. He's a pretty shady character. In fact, They say that he can trick anybody into anything. According to rumor, he got his degrees by forging diplomas, and then convincing the headmaster that it was a check he needed to sign. Let's listen in...

Rob: Look, it's a nice terrarium, right?

Tod: Well, yes, but-

Rob: And I'm throwing in the free frog, right?

Tod: Look, that fro-

Rob: Now, I know how much you like frogs, so I'm going to cut you a special deal here.

Tod: Really, look-

Rob: Do you want a deal, or no?

Tod: Well... I think so... but I'm pretty sure that terrarium looks pretty familiar.

Rob: That's because you've been looking for one just like this for ages!

Tod: I... have?

Rob: Are you kidding? Of course you have! This, my good friend, is the Amphibianator TX Mk. II. It doesn't get much better than this! And to think, I'm willing to sell it for-

Tod: But, I'm pretty sure that that's my frog inside.

Rob (looking at the frog): This? This guy? No way. I've raised this guy since he was a... pup?

Tod: Frogs start out as tadpoles!

Rob: I see that you know your frogs! Tell you what, how about you give me eighty bucks, and we call it a deal?

Tod: Well... okay, I guess...

Rob (taking the money): Great. Tell you what, how about you give me  eighty bucks and we call it a deal?

Tod: What? Wait, what? I... what?!

Rob: Look, It's a nice terrarium, right?

Tod: Well, yes, but-

Rob:And I'm throwing in the free frog, right?

(A gunshot rings out.)

??????: (Old man voice) Yah think yah can get me?! Yah come any closah and I'll blow all yer brains out, y'hear?!

Tod: Oh, no, that'll be Horace. Look, here's fifty bucks. Can we call this even?

Rob: Well... I guess. Hey, what's eighty times 6, plus fifty?

Tod: Um.... Five-hundred and thirty, I think. Why?

Rob: No reason. Just business.

(Cut to the house between Tod's and Adam's)

???????? (voiceover): Horace Nexus may have lost his mind to the ravages of war. I doubt that. I think he just lost his mind. Oh, sure, he claims it was The War that did it, but he never really specifies which one. Also, he often speaks of his "teal heart" medal.

Tod: Horace? What's wrong?

Horace: It's them commies tryin' to sneak up on me again!

Tod: Please, Horace. We go through though this almost every day. Those are flamingos.

Horace: I don't care what they're called these days, I just know they're where they ain't supposed to be!

Tod: Horace, they're just plastic lawn ornaments. Like those gnomes people sometimes have on their front yards.

Horace: Allied with the gnome legion, are they? Those stinkin' French commies.

Tod: Horace, I'm pretty sure that the French aren't communist. Besides, I thought you said that one side of your family was French.

Horace: Yeah, the traitor side.

Tod (Sighing): Look, If it's going to be one of those days, I'll get out of your way soon. But if we've told you once, we've told you a million times: no shooting.

Horace: They provoked me!

Tod: How?

Horace: They threw tear gas at me! Can't yeh smell it, boy? A stench as foul as rations?

Tod: Well, now that you mention it...

(The scene freezes.)
 
???????? (voiceover): I don't think I've introduced myself. Here I come along now. (Cut to a girl dressed in black, being followed by a large boy) And the boy is-

??????: (Boy) BOTHER!

????????: (Girl) Okay, Bother, I get it.

Bother: Aw, c'mon. If it weren't for me, you might still be stuck in that grocery store check-out line, Patricia.

Patricia: There were three people.

Bother: Yeah, but-

Patricia: It was the ten-items-or-less express lane.

Bother: But still-

Patricia: And they were checking out as one group.

(Bother looks down, ashamed.)

Patricia: Don't worry, I hear that Rob's back in town. You'll be able to beat him up.

Bother: He's no fun.

Patricia: Too bad. If I know my cousin, he'll be in need of a good beating. Hey, do you smell that?

Bother: I think so. It's gross.

Patricia: I. hate. gross. smells.

(Cut to ADAM's front yard.)

Adam: Look, Rob, that cheese is for Jim I. Hendricks. I wouldn't want a political party chasing after me.

Rob: This? This cheese? You can't mean this cheese!

Adam: Yes I can.

Rob: Well, normally I would say "Finders Keepers", but for you, I'll make a special deal.

Adam: Seriously?

Rob: You bet! Now, here's the lowdown: I'm-

Tod: Guys, what's that sme-

(Tod stops in mid-sentence.)

Tod: Oh. Um, why is there a pile of cheese lying here in the sun?

Adam: I felt that it was my patriotic duty. Although, before Rob showed up, there was two-hundred ad fifty dollars on top of the cheese.

Rob: Are you insinuating that I had took that money and bought some ice cream from a passing truck with it?

Adam: Uh... no. I was just trying to place the disappearance of the money and the appearance of you relative to each other in time.

Rob: Oh... okay, then. So, would either of you be interested in a special deal on this cheese?

Tod: Uh-oh, Adam. Here comes your sister!

(Patricia and Bother wander up to the others.)

Patricia: What is this gross smell doing here? I hate gross smells.

Bother: BOTHER!

Rob: I'm sorry, ma'am, but this cheese can't be removed until I say so. I'm afraid that-

(Bother grabs Rob by the collar.)

Patricia: So, not only do you take my cheese, but you leave it here in the sun where it gets gross and smelly? Is that it?

Rob: Actually, Pat, Adam got-

Patricia: What did you call me? BOTHER!

Bother: BOTHER!

(Bother punches Rob in the stomach, and throws him across the street, into a dumpster.)

Patricia: Nothing like good old slapstick to get the viewers laughing. Now then, who's going to throw this cheese away?

Adam: Can we just feed it to Bother?

Patricia: Don't be disgust-

Bother: Sounds like a plan to me!

(Bother scoops up the cheese and stuffs it in his mouth.)

Tod: Well, I guess that problem solved itself.

Adam: Wait, what are we going to give to Mr. Hendricks?

Patricia: Who?

Adam: Don't you remember that guy we sent money to last year?

Patricia: OH! No.

Adam: Well,he sent me an e-mail, and he says he needs more. It's for politics.

Tod: Adam, you don't even pay attention to politics.

Adam: But still, he needs help.

Tod: Well, you already put the money and cheese out on the lawn, right?

Adam: But he didn't get it!

Patricia: So?

Adam: Well! But! I mean... I guess.

Bother: BOTHER!

(Bother knocks Adam unconscious.)

Patricia: Never mind. Problem solved.

[Adam Adderly]

E-mail #1-5: Political Bargainings, Five

(cut to a white screen. Adam walks out.)

Adam: Welcome to A-Mails, folks.  My name is Adam, and I’ll be running the show around here.  I guess I should introduce myself and my friends before things get going.  As I just said, in case you weren’t paying attention, my name is Adam.  Adam Adderly, to be exact.  I work in a shoe factory, and I must say, it is the best, most exciting job ever.  Sometimes some people like to goof off and play jokes there, which really bugs me, but I am all business, yes sir.  When I’m not at work, I usually am out drawing things, I hope to become the world’s best artist of socks, or maybe socks with rocks, or just rocks… well, you get the idea.

*This paragraph about Bother was written by Lufis, as the other was inaccurate*
Then, there's Bother, who is... well, he's a bother. He's big, loud, and obnoxious. At any given time, he'll start yelling "Bother" and breaking all manner of things... desks... chairs... limbs... whatever he can get his meaty hands on.

My sister, Patricia, will also be stopping in from time to time.  She’s pretty cool, when compared to my stupid brother.  The one thing you have to know about my sister, is that she is a hate filled person.  Every single day, it seems, there is something that she just hates.  One day it’ll be the sky, the next day it’ll be that little chipmunk in the tree, the day after that it might even be me!

I’ve got a cousin, Dr. Robert P. McGee, M.D…. um, Ph.D… MSG… or something like that.  I just call him Rob.  This guy can be trouble.  He is a smooth talker.  I honestly think he could sell a blind man a TV.  Yeah.

Horace Nexus lives down the road from me.  He is a creepy guy.  He served in the war, back in “Ought Six” or something like that.  He claims he was a war hero.  I claim that he is insane.  You know those pink plastic flamingos people like to put in their yards?  This guy swears that they are leftover enemy soldiers from the war.  One day I found him strapping a bomb to one of them, claiming he was, “Going to save the world once and for all.”  My cousin, Rob, likes to tease Horace, and puts plastic flamingos in his yard at least once a week.

Finally, you’ll see Tod.  Tod is my best friend.  He is also the town’s Putt Putt champion!  The one thing that you need to know about Tod, though, is that he is a little obsessed with frogs.  And by “a little” I mean “extremely, almost to the point of it being dangerous.”

Well, those are me and my friends, now on to some E-Mails!

(Adam walks away. Fade to black.)



(Adam comes walking into his living room after a long day at work.  He flips on his desk lamp, and sits down at the computer.)

Adam: I sure hope that my monthly online edition of ‘Rock and Sock Updates’ came in my e-Mail today!

(Upon checking his inbox, Adam sees he has one new message, and he opens it quickly)

Adam: What in the world, this isn’t my online newsletter!  What is this?






Dear Mr. Adderly:

I am a representative of the Political Party Local Chapter #152 in Normsville. We appreciate voting for our candidate in the Election a couple of years ago, and would like to request you aid once again. We need money. And lots of it. Will you, or anyone in your neighborhood, give us some money?

Sincerely,
Congressguy Jim I. Hendricks, Political Party Local Chapter #152 in Normsville.

P.S.: Put all funds on your front lawn, along with some cottage cheese. I like cottage cheese.





Adam: I didn’t vote for that guy!  I hated that guy!  He wanted to make it illegal to paint pictures of socks!  This has to be fake.  Patricia!  Patricia, come here!

(Patricia Adderly, Adam’s sister, slowly walks into the room.)

Patricia: What is it, Adam?

Adam: Did you send me this letter on the computer?  Don’t lie, because I will find out the truth.

Patricia: No!  Of course not!  Computers are evil, I hope they all blow up at once, that would make my day.

Adam:  Ah, so I see that your Hate of the Day today is computers, eh?

Patricia:  Meh, more of just electronics in general.

Adam:  Then why are you listening to that iPod?

Patricia: What, iPod?  Where!  Get it off!!

(Patricia rips her iPod off of her pocket, where is it clipped, throws it on the floor, and begins to jump on it.)

Adam: Well, tomorrow you’ll be regretting that choice… but I guess you’ll worry about that later.

(Meanwhile, Bother comes in the room.  He’s got a baseball bat, and is helping Patricia to smash the iPod into smaller and smaller pieces.)

Bother:  BOTHER HATE MUSICKK!!

Adam:  Now looks like a good time for me to go, so I will.  Now.

(Adam gets up and walks over to his bedroom, where he gets on the phone.  He dials a number, and the phone starts to ring.)

Rob:  Dunder Mifflon Insurance Agency, this is Zack speaking, how may I help you?

Adam: Oh, I must have a wrong number, I’m sorry.

Rob: Wait, Adam, is that you?  This is Rob, don’t worry.  I just have to answer the phone that way right now, working on one of my schemes, you know what I mean?

Adam: Uhh, sure.  I’m not even going to ask...  Hey, ummm, you didn’t happen to send me an e-mail today, did you?

Rob: You didn’t get my Nigerian Royalty letter, did you?  I was only supposed to send that to pe-

Adam: No, no.  It wasn’t that.  When did you have a member of Nigerian Royalty move in with you?

Rob: …Um, recently.  Very recently.  But hey, if you didn’t get that letter from me, it wasn’t from me.  I’ve got to go now, ‘Zack’ is expecting a very important call any minute, if you know what I mean.

(Rob hangs up the phone.)

Adam:  I wonder what Horace would have to say about all this?  He fought in The War, he must know stuff about politics!

(Adam walks out of his room, towards the front door.  Along the way he notices that Patricia and Bother are attempting to tape Patricia’s iPod back together.  After a short walk, Adam reaches Horace’s house, and knocks on the door.  Horace opens the door, and suspiciously looks around.)

Horace: Hurry up and get on, son.  You never know when they are waiting to attack.

Adam: You mean the pink bi-

Horace: No, they’ve got recruits now.  Just today I noticed a blue jay flying around, and he was giving me a dirty look.  I just know he was a scout, doing some recon for an attack.

Adam: Those cunning, dirty, no good birds.

Horace: My same thoughts.  Now, what can I do you for?

Adam: Well, I got this e-mail today a-

Horace: Nope, not from me.  I don’t touch computers.  Heard something about the flamingos being able to use them to control your mind.

Adam: No, not that.  I just don’t know what I should do.  The e-mail is telling me to put money and food in my front yard, for some political party to take.

Horace:  Oh yes, the old ‘Political Party Likes Cottage Cheese’ trick.  Here’s what you do…

(Horace whispers into Adam’s ear, and Adam’s eyes get real big, and a smile forms on his face.  When Horace is done, Adam gets up and runs back home.  A few minutes later, you see him going outside with a big bag, full of what appears to be tiny shells, and a package of cottage cheese.)

Adam: I’ll just leave these here, and hopefully this will all go down soon.  In the meantime, I’ll just hide in this bush.

(As Adam hides, he soon sees his friend, Tod, come walking up to the yard.  Tod looks around a moment, then darts over to the stuff Adam put in the front yard.  He grabs the bag and the cheese, and runs away.  A minute later, the phone inside Adam’s room starts to ring.  Adam jumps up, and runs in to answer it.  Tod is on the line, crying.)

Tod: How could you, Adam?!?  That cheese has been expired for seven years!  Where did you even find it?!?

Adam: Oh, you know, it’s left over from the day Patricia decided that she hated all dairy products.  Why in the world did you send me that e-mail, anyway?

Tod: Because, I was hungry, and I didn’t have any money to get stuff.  So, I thought I’d get you to give me some money, and some cottage cheese as well, that way I could go buy some celery to dip into the cottage cheese.  Not only did you give me bad cheese, but you didn’t give me the money!  What is up with these shells?!?

Adam: I got that idea from creepy Horace, down the road.  He told me that in some African cultures, shells are a form of currency.  So, I figured that since I’ve got millions of those, left over from when I wanted to be a shell artist, that I’d use those.

Tod: Adam, if you weren’t my friend, I’d be busy getting Bother to kick your butt right now.  I need to go and have a detox team clean out my mouth.  Just know I won’t forget this.

Adam: I’m sure you won’t.  Good luck with your mouth.

(Tod hangs up the phone.)

Adam:  Well, uh, that turned out a little differently than I thought.  I never even once dreamed it could have been Tod.  I’m going to go paint a picture of some socks and rocks, to tell him I’m sorry.  Until next e-mail, remember always to tie your shoes!

[Adam Adderly]

E-mail #1-6: Political Bargainings, Six

Disembodied Voice: Look out, all, it's time for:

Adam Adderly's E-mails!

It's Adam,
He'll never fail,
Say "yes, madame",
Even if you're male,
Come along and see what he's done,
It's Adam who is number six! Or greater!

Adam: Yes, hello. I am Adam Adderly. I... just told you my name. Strange how that works, isn't it? That was actually my theme song you just read. If you liked it, I suppose you can look up and read it again. Don't worry about me, I'll wait.

*pause*

...Are you done? If you're not, finish up soon. I'd like to check my e-mail. Well, so long as we're waiting, why don't I introduce you to my supporting cast. They... actually don't support me much. They rather disappoint me, actually. You can read about them while you're re-reading my theme song, if your eyes work that way. Let's see...

Patricia: Oh, stuff a toilet brush down your throat, you whinging joke.

Adam: Ah, yes. This young lady is Patricia. She's my sister, actually. Kicked me in the face when my mother was still six months in. She smells of peppermint cigarettes and cold iron. She's a rather pleasant person, providing you don't fall into the category of one of the many, many things she hates. At the moment it would appear that she hates me.

Patricia: I don't hate you personally, you twit. I just happen to hate know-nothing layabouts who have nothing to do better than to stuff their noses up insoles all day.

Adam: Here now, enough of that talk, Patsy. I'll have you know there's nothing wrong with working at a shoe factory. The pay is good and I can have all the buttonhooks I can eat. And it isn't as though I don't have a scintillating social life.

Patricia: Yes, it's such a hot time sitting about scratching silly doodles on lined paper. What are you on, your thirtieth page of your fabulous "socks and rocks" series?

Adam: For your information, it takes a great deal of technical proficiency to design thirty pages filled with socks and rocks. In fact, I've only now branched out into pictures of socks made of rock, which I've called "post-sock-rockism". I tried drawing a picture of a duck once, but it didn't feel right. Here. Look at this picture. I put a lot of blood, sweat and tears into it.

Patricia: Why is it covered with stains?

Adam: Well, blood, sweat and tears do tend to stain... er, ignore the yellow stain, that's something entirely different...

Patricia (leaving in a huff): Oh, go lie in the middle of the M5 and count undercarriages.

Adam: I just got back from doing that, you silly girl! Honestly. Well, what about you, then? Still reading my theme song? Fine! I'll introduce another supporting cast member. His name is Dr. Robert P. McGee, but we call him "Rob". Which is what he does. With a lower-case letter.

Rob: Alright, Adam. Now, don't call Scotland Yard on me until you've heard me out. Now, this is a beautiful piece of real estate, isn't it?

Adam: Did you just call me an idiot?

Rob: What? No!

Adam: Ah. Just checking.  I do check from time to time.

Rob: And you are wise to check, my friend. For only the aforementioned idiot would turn down purchasing this lovely flat. And since you, you, Adam Adderly, are my fifth-favourite cousin, I'll send you the bill on my finest stationery. Top-notch! All for just $80,000, and you and I both know that you hate eating regularly anyway, right?

Adam: You want to sell me this house?

Rob: No! Not want... NEED! I am positively compelled to sell you this house... it is practically my sworn duty! Don't hesitate! Just buy! You'll feel better in the morning! Or at least I will, and I know that you have your dear cousin's best interest in mind, right?

Adam: Well, it's not that I don't like this house, yes, but... well, I'm rather hesitant to buy.

Rob: Why? What could possibly be holding you back?

Adam: Well, it is a touch awkward that I already own it, isn't it?

Rob: Not awkward at all, my friend. You won't even have to go through the trouble of relocating! Now, I've already taken the liberty of writing a cheque out in your name, and doing a bang-up imitation of your signature, and, well, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery and all that, right?

(The resounding report of a rifle can be heard.)

Rob: It's the CID! They've come for me!

(Rob dives out the window.)

Adam: It's not the CID, actually. It's dear old Horace Nexus next door, although the "dear" part is questionable.

Horace: To the dirigibles, Leftennant! We've spotted the enemy, what! A baker's dozen Jerries at twelve o'clock!

Adam: Jerries? You mean Germans?

Horace: No, worse! People named Jerry!

Adam: Ah, I see! You'll have to excuse Horace. He was in the War. Which war, I couldn't say, but it was apparently one of those bad ones. I hear someone may have died or something of that fashion, although that may be an urban myth. Now, it seems...

Horace: FOR THE COMMONWEALTH! DIE LIKE THE DOGS YOU ARE, PEOPLE FROM ANOTHER COUNTRY!

(Another report rocks the air waves of Normsville.)

Adam: Yes. You see, he thinks that his lawn flamingos are enemy soldiers, and Rob seems to think it comic to put them in different formations to confuse the old duffer into...

(Thre rifle reports bark in sharp sucession.)

Horace (singing): Oh, tell me Bonnie, please tell me Bonnie, that the bullet didn't hurt when it knocked me head off... tell me Bonnie when me jawbone arrives, to give it to the auld mule so he can still cough...

Adam: Well, that's all the supporting cast I dare introduce you to. Now, if we...

Tod: You didn't introduce me, Adam!

Adam: Oh, what a shame. Looks like there's nothing I can do.

Tod: Howdy! I'm Tod! I'm fat and I also wear a green t-shirt!

Adam: Tod...

Tod: Sometimes I like to run my finger across the walls and look at the pattern made by my natural body oils!

Adam: Tod!

Tod: I'm the local Putt-Putt champion, and frogs are my passion!

*He pulls out a comatose frog*

Tod: This is Lulabelle! Ain't she a living doll?

Adam: Actually, she's a dead frog.

Tod: Hey, quiet! You'll hurt her feelings, and I'm taking her to the movies tonight!

Adam: You are a sick man.

Tod: (abruptly) I am? Golly! I'd better get some medicine!

Adam: Good idea. Go to the medicine cabinet and take out the bottle with the skull-and-crossbones symbol on it.

Tod: Skull-and-crossbones? What sort of medicine is that?

Adam: Pirate medicine, of course, you twit!

Tod: Ah, of course!

*He exits*

Adam: Works every time. Are you still reading my bloody theme song? Right, that's it! I'll answer my e-mail and you won't be able to read it, even though you must be reading this, and... oh dear, I've confused myself again. Time to read today's e-mail!






Dear Mr. Adderly:

I am a representative of the Political Party Local Chapter #152 in Normsville. We appreciate voting for our candidate in the Election a couple of years ago, and would like to request you aid once again. We need money. And lots of it. Will you, or anyone in your neighborhood, give us some money?

Sincerely,
Congressguy Jim I. Hendricks, Political Party Local Chapter #152 in Normsville.

P.S.: Put all funds on your front lawn, along with some cottage cheese. I like cottage cheese.






Adam: Rather vague, isn't it? I mean, what kind of cottage cheese? You have to explain this sort of thing, darling. As it stands I'd hardly leave my best money out on the lawn for somebody who would accept corporate-owned cottage cheese to snap up. I have my standards, you know. If I can't trust you to make a firm decision on cottage cheese, well, how can I trust you to run for office? And besides, I'm not putting money on the lawn. It'd get grass stains and birds would take liberties upon it.

Patricia: Are you still alive?

Adam (looks around): Mostly, I suppose.

Patricia: Well, stop it. It's annoying me.

Adam: Er... I've never actually tried before.

Rob: Well, if you're planning on dying for the first time, have I the shirt for you! You'll make a smashing corpse in it, and if you want to see what you look like in it, just look in the mirror! That's right, you're wearing it already! Now, that's service!

Horace (still shooting): Could somebody check to see if any bullets are coming out of this thing? I can't hear a thing for all the bloody gunfire!

Tod: Hey, all! Come help Lulubelle and me fill out these forms! We're going to adopt a 45-year-old child from Laos!

Adam: Right. Well, I have my hands full here, so why don't you lot pop back next week, and hopefully we'll have another e-mail for you to read about me reading about...

Wait a tic... you're still reading my theme song, aren't you? I've been answering this bloody e-mail for a half hour, and you're still reading the first paragraph, aren't you? Bah! Well, let me tell you something! I've been faking this accent the whole time! I'm not Italian at all! Hah!

Patricia: When were you doing an Italian accent, you prat?

Adam: When nobody was listening, of course.

Rob: Ah. When a man uses an accent and nobody is around, does it make a sound? Transfer $600 into my Hungarian bank account to find out! Don't worry - I've done the paperwork for you already. Just ignore your latest bank statement, will you? Thank you. This is Dr. Rob McGee signing off.

Rod: Say good night, Lulubelle!

Horace: Good night, Lulubelle...

[Adam Adderly]

Alright, fellows! Read 'em, then VOTO!

Your votes will directly determine which writer will not be returning two weeks from now, so vote wisely and fairly. There IS a seventh contestant, but he is, unfortunately, unable to compete this week. Watch out for him/her next week!

I will give my personal commentary on each e-mail once the vote is over. 'Till then, discuss and enjoy!

[potthole]

Awesome work, guys!  These were all very well written, so I had a tough time choosing who to vote for!  I look foward to seeing these future e-mails!

[The Red Dragon]

Awesome work, guys!  These were all very well written, so I had a tough time choosing who to vote for! 

I agree. For me, this one was practically the roll of the die...

[RClock]

This goes to show the excellent talent pool we have here at BHZ. How we have six different interpretations of the same characters that are all so wonderful - bravo! Voting for which is the best would be hard enough. Which is the worst??? Nearly-impossible to call. Good show, all involved!

[that_lufis]

Two hours left. Vote, vote, vote!

[potthole]

What happens, in event of a tie?

[that_lufis]

I'll decide, then. It's the only way to be sure.

Between the two, that is, not of all of them.




EDIT'd!: MY TOG THREE WAY TIE! Man, this'll be something to break. Give me a few minutes on this one.

[that_lufis]

Alright. After careful deliberation, consternation, and procrastination, I have come to a conclusion, which is also a long word.

E-mails #1, #2, and #5 are in danger of being eliminated in this first round. Before I begin, I would like to give a couple shoutouts.

First and foremost, thanks to all the contestants for being awesome and on time! You don't know how good it is for me to have things in on time.

Second goes to all of you who voted! Your votes really do make a difference, so make sure to keep (or start) voting.

Lastly, I want to thank the tireless administration and moderation teams for giving the green light for both the first EMTC and EMTC2. You guys rock!



Now, onto the decision. Fellows, come in here.

(six indistinguishable shillouettes appear in the background.)

Now, would numbers #3, #4, and #6 please step back. You three are safe.

(Three shillouettes disappear.)

#1, you nailed several personalities, but none to a very effective level. The quirks were not as well minifested as in some of the other works.

#2, your particular brand of humor may have alienated some of the voters, but not me. However, you failed to hit Horace's personality.

#3, you got almost all of the characters' personalitie's dead-on, except for Adam, who isn't that boring. Of all of the entries, yours was arguably my favorite.

#4, what can I say. The people loved it. Or, at least, they didn't hate it too much.

#5, for an amatuer, you did pretty well here. I'm surprised people didn't like your e-mail, because it's up there.

#6, not too shabby. Quick hitting and spectacular. I like, I like.



I hate to be the one to have to decide this... but #1. Please step forward.

(One of the shillouettes steps forward. It's daBurninator.)

I'm sorry, dB. The people have decided.

(daBurninator walks away.)

Alright, next week, another e-mail, and the first real challenge for our contestants! 'Till then, it'll just be another day in Normsville.