Episode Details
Back to EpisodesLost Cause: Terminally Celibate. | Stand-Up Comedy Special
Published 2 weeks, 2 days ago
Description
INT. SHADOWED CHAMBER - NIGHT
Two blue eyes peek out of the darkness into the pale flicker of candlelight.
SETH MEYERSHey.
FIGURE (O.S.)Don’t come any closer, Seth Meyers, I’ll shoot you.
Suddenly, a silver pistol emerges from the shadows, pointed directly between those two same very blue eyes.
SETH MEYERSI don’t doubt that.
FIGUREYou shouldn’t.
SETH MEYERSAll right, well...
FIGUREWell...
SETH MEYERSI—brought popped corn, er... all right, my—kernels, rather.
FIGURE...For what purpose?
SETH MEYERS(shrugging)Don’t know. Kind of expecting... Lorne to show up.
Seth steps forward into a pillar of downlight.
FIGUREAgain, for what purpose?
SETH MEYERSI feel like this is highly conversational for someone pointing a gun at me.
FIGUREEveryone’s entitled to have an opinion.
SETH MEYERSYou’re wittier when you’re contemplating homicide.
FIGUREI’m not contemplating, I’m procrastinating.
SETH MEYERSNot contemplating, procrastinating. Ah—so—dual purpose.
FIGUREThat’s your wit shining through there.
SETH MEYERSI’m sure it’s only reflecting in the mirror image of that pistol.
FIGUREThree coats of polish.
SETH MEYERSYou must have quite the iron grip.
FIGUREHow about it.
SETH MEYERSHow about...
SETH MEYERS steps forward in tandem with the subtle CLICK of the pistol being gently cocked, barrel leveled at his brow.
He slowly raises his hands above his head in surrender, then swiftly uses his right hand to dislodge a yellow number two pencil from behind his ear.
He raises the pencil, wielding it like a wand before tapping the clear plastic bag of popped corn kernels in his left hand.
Tap.
Tap.
He swirls the pencil in an arc around the bag.
The bag instantly turns from popped corn into clear water containing one solitary, swimming GOLDFISH.
Seth gestures outward with an open palm: voilà.
FIGURE...Not bad.
SETH MEYERS(shrugging)Mm.
A sharp GUNSHOT rings out.
Seth ducks, desperately gripping the bag as the goldfish swims unbothered.
A high-caliber slug ricochets off an overhead crystal chandelier and shatters a wall mirror into thousands of prismatic shards.
In reflexive retaliation, a silver bullet discharges from the silver pistol. It narrowly misses Seth, ripping straight through the clear plastic bag.
SETH MEYERS (CONT'D)OH, FUCK!
The bag ruptures. Water and the GOLDFISH splash onto the parquet floor.
The goldfish thrashes next to Seth, who contorts between shielding his skull and reaching out to save the fish.
More bullets tear through the air. Seth executes a panicked lateral roll as the fish flails across the wood.
FIGUREBastard.
TWO SHADOWY NINJAS breach the perimeter through high windows.
SETH MEYERSWhy?!
FIGUREWhy not?
Suddenly, ARMORED SAMURAI kick down the rear doors, drawing katanas!
SETH MEYERSWait, ninjas or samurai?!
FIGURE¿Por qué no los dos?
The architectural dimensions of the room instantly fracture as the space erupts into a multi-epochal, cross-dimensional melee; cybernetic
Two blue eyes peek out of the darkness into the pale flicker of candlelight.
SETH MEYERSHey.
FIGURE (O.S.)Don’t come any closer, Seth Meyers, I’ll shoot you.
Suddenly, a silver pistol emerges from the shadows, pointed directly between those two same very blue eyes.
SETH MEYERSI don’t doubt that.
FIGUREYou shouldn’t.
SETH MEYERSAll right, well...
FIGUREWell...
SETH MEYERSI—brought popped corn, er... all right, my—kernels, rather.
FIGURE...For what purpose?
SETH MEYERS(shrugging)Don’t know. Kind of expecting... Lorne to show up.
Seth steps forward into a pillar of downlight.
FIGUREAgain, for what purpose?
SETH MEYERSI feel like this is highly conversational for someone pointing a gun at me.
FIGUREEveryone’s entitled to have an opinion.
SETH MEYERSYou’re wittier when you’re contemplating homicide.
FIGUREI’m not contemplating, I’m procrastinating.
SETH MEYERSNot contemplating, procrastinating. Ah—so—dual purpose.
FIGUREThat’s your wit shining through there.
SETH MEYERSI’m sure it’s only reflecting in the mirror image of that pistol.
FIGUREThree coats of polish.
SETH MEYERSYou must have quite the iron grip.
FIGUREHow about it.
SETH MEYERSHow about...
SETH MEYERS steps forward in tandem with the subtle CLICK of the pistol being gently cocked, barrel leveled at his brow.
He slowly raises his hands above his head in surrender, then swiftly uses his right hand to dislodge a yellow number two pencil from behind his ear.
He raises the pencil, wielding it like a wand before tapping the clear plastic bag of popped corn kernels in his left hand.
Tap.
Tap.
He swirls the pencil in an arc around the bag.
The bag instantly turns from popped corn into clear water containing one solitary, swimming GOLDFISH.
Seth gestures outward with an open palm: voilà.
FIGURE...Not bad.
SETH MEYERS(shrugging)Mm.
A sharp GUNSHOT rings out.
Seth ducks, desperately gripping the bag as the goldfish swims unbothered.
A high-caliber slug ricochets off an overhead crystal chandelier and shatters a wall mirror into thousands of prismatic shards.
In reflexive retaliation, a silver bullet discharges from the silver pistol. It narrowly misses Seth, ripping straight through the clear plastic bag.
SETH MEYERS (CONT'D)OH, FUCK!
The bag ruptures. Water and the GOLDFISH splash onto the parquet floor.
The goldfish thrashes next to Seth, who contorts between shielding his skull and reaching out to save the fish.
More bullets tear through the air. Seth executes a panicked lateral roll as the fish flails across the wood.
FIGUREBastard.
TWO SHADOWY NINJAS breach the perimeter through high windows.
SETH MEYERSWhy?!
FIGUREWhy not?
Suddenly, ARMORED SAMURAI kick down the rear doors, drawing katanas!
SETH MEYERSWait, ninjas or samurai?!
FIGURE¿Por qué no los dos?
The architectural dimensions of the room instantly fracture as the space erupts into a multi-epochal, cross-dimensional melee; cybernetic