Where Threads Come Loose
"Jules & K: The Apartment of the Damned, Part I and Part II

The Recording Script

• See Part I
SCENE VI: The house
(music under each of Announcer's lines, but not the others'. For them, it's the snoring guy.)

Announcer: Last time on Where Threads Come Loose, there was the first part of a two-part episode of which this, what you're listening to now, is the second part. I'm the radio announcer, and I'm here to fill you in on the plot in case you didn't happen to catch the last show. (pause) So let's get right into the action of "Apartment of the Damned, Part II."

Art by Dan Grothe & Christopher Bahn
Dave: Morning, Jules.

Jules: Morning, Dave.

Announcer: Oh -- I forgot to mention, this episode is about two guys named Jules and Dave, who ... I guess you just met.

Dave: How was your first night in our new apartment?

Announcer: Oh, yeah -- I should probably also mention that Dave and Jules are both college students who just moved into an apartment near campus.

Jules: Wonderful, Dave. I slept like a baby. You look a little ragged, though.

Dave: I was tossing and turning all night. I'm not so sure we should have signed the lease on this place, Jules. I've got a feeling we're going to get screwed.

Announcer: And there's another thing. They waited until August 31 to find a new place, and they ended up having to pay $500 a month each for a dingy, musty-smelling two-bedroom apartment, right behind a factory, owned by a callous landlord who manufactures toxins and hates all poor people. But the thing is, the actor who played the landlord last time wasn't available when we made this episode, so that character doesn't appear in this show.

Dave: Are you finished?

Announcer: You talking to me?

Dave: Yes. Look, We're trying to do our part and advance the action of the story, and it would help if you'd get all your plot exposition finished in the first thirty seconds of the show like you're supposed to.

Announcer: I'm sorry, it's just so convoluted, I --

Dave: You're barely even trying. Tell the audience about the snoring guy.

Announcer: Oh, yeah... there's this guy on the couch who's snoring, and nobody knows who he is or where he comes from, and he never wakes up. So that's the snoring noise you can hear. There, now back to the show --

Dave: The curse, the curse, tell them about the curse. That's the most important thing in the plot.

Announcer: And there was this door-to-door salesman who Dave was rude to and wouldn't give and money to, and he put a voodoo curse on Dave saying that Dave would be plagued with the worst, most selfish and unpleasant roommates in the world until he either went crazy or gave the door-to-door curse guy some money. (pause) Good?

Dave: Good. But give us another sentence so we have some kind of segue into the second half.

Announcer: Got it. Yes, it certainly looks bad for Dave and Jules -- anyone with any sense at all must feel the tension mounting into a terrible feeling that this whole thing will end in a crescendo of tears, blood and fire.

Jules: Dave, this new apartment is wonderful! No more living in mommy and daddy's basement! No more of their tyranny! I never have to do my own laundry again!

Dave: I don't think --

Jules: Why, I went grocery shopping by myself for the first time in my life today! The freedom of being able to make my own wise nutrition choices, Dave -- the feeling of pure power!

Dave: What'd you get?

Jules: A jar of peanut butter, some saltines and a 12-gallon drum of grape Kool-aid. I love that stuff.

Dave: Great. But what about the curse?

Jules: Oh, please, Dave. In the first place, that's pure superstition. In the second place, my name isn't on the lease, so I don't see why I should have to listen to you complain about a problem that can only ever be a petty annoyance to me.

Dave: I knew I could count on you, Jules.

Jules: Well, as long as we're clear on that, I'll just put my Kool-Aid in the refrigerator...

(SFX: Fridge door opens)

Jules: Aaaah!

K: Close that door, I'm not decent!

Dave: It's K! Your poetic rival from the coffeeshop!

Jules: K, what are you doing in the refrigerator?

K: Well, the couch was taken, wasn't it?

Dave: You're living in our refrigerator?

K: I needed somewhere to stay for a few days, and I knew I could count on your hospitality couldn't I there's a good lad.

Jules: Where's all the food?

K: I threw it out. There wasn't any room for me to move around with all that junk in there. By the way, I've invited a few friends to stay at your place for a few weeks.

Jules: You did what? K, I'm surprised at you!

K: Why? Do you think I'm being presumptuous?

Jules: No, I didn't know you had any friends.

K: Ooooh! Why, you --

Jules: Dave, we can't let K stay here! I've got all this Kool-aid! It'll go bad!

K: Oh, please! I've got nowhere else to go, at least unless you expect me to pay my own rent. I won't be any bother! I can store all my possessions right here in the lettuce crisper.

Dave: Alright, alright, K. You can stay here --

K: Hooray!

Jules: No!

Dave: Jules, I thought this cursed roommate thing wasn't your problem.

Jules: It is now! Dave, this is pure hell, to make me live in the same house as K.

Dave: You're best friends, Jules.

Jules: Only because nobody else will be friends with us.

Dave: But --

Jules: Enough! I'm going to my room so I can pout and refuse to offer a rational solution to the budding crisis. (door slam)

K: Thanks for letting me stay, Dave.

Dave: Just for a couple of days -- maximum. And on the condition -- and I'm going to be very firm on this -- that you don't read any of your poetry aloud while you're here.

K: No poetry?

Dave: No poetry.

K: But I've been working on this lovely Pindaric ode to Buddy Ebsen. Don't you want to be enlightened?

Dave: No.

K: If that's the way you feel, I'll just go to my room.

Dave: You don't have a room.

K: My fridge, then.

Dave: It's not your fridge. You don't even live here.

K: Don't be so mean! By the way, I took out your ice cream and put it on your bed a few hours ago. I needed the elbow room in there, you know.

Dave: Nnnngh... Thanks, K. I'll go clean it up now.

K: Sure, Dave. And next time get cherry ripple. It's my favorite flavor.

Dave: Whatever, K.

(SFX: Fridge door slams. Pause, then doorbell)

Dave: Who could that be? (SFX: Door, then chicken) Oh. It's you.

Paranoiac: Yes! It's the paranoid guy who laid a curse on you in the last episode! And my trusty mojo hen, Fluffy. I bet your roommates have been just giving you pure hell, haven't they?

Dave: Oh, it hasn't been so bad.

Paranoiac: It hasn't?

Dave: Jules and K? Ah, c'mon. I've known them for years.

Paranoiac: But they are annoying, right? Aren't they driving you up the wall?

Dave: I'm used to them. They'll annoy each other far more than me. And that snoring guy? He doesn't even move! This is supposed to be the bunch of guys that makes me start chewing on the carpeting?

Paranoiac: Drat.

Dave: If this is the best curse you got, go turn in your chicken.

Paranoiac: It's not a chicken, it's a mojo hen.

Dave: Whatever.

Paranoiac: Gimme a break. I learned it in a correspondence course, and they gave me a C for poor attendance.

Dave: Ha! You'll get nothing from me, friend!

Paranoiac: C'mon, please... I'll curse you again!

Dave: Bring it on, you twerp! I won't give you a cent! Your curses are futile! Like Rush Limbaugh trying to fit through a very narrow door!

Paranoiac: Mock me at your peril, insolent one! (SFX: Thunder) There. That should do it. I'll be back tomorrow, friend. Have your wallet out and ready.

Dave: Can't wait. (SFX: Door slam) What a nutcase! He actually believes he can just summon up roommates from Hell out of thin air.

(SFX: TV clicks on. Loud, semi-coherent pseudo-Russian soap opera blares throughout scene.)

TV Roommate: Is please to move from front of television.

Dave: Where did you come from?

TV Roommate: Is please to move from front of television! No you not be comprehension of your own foreign language in which you speak of fluency?

Dave: Who are you?

TV Roommate: Is please to move from front of television!

Dave: (pause) My name is Dave. Who are you?

TV Roommate: Please, am trying to watch television. Is please to not make better door than, how you say, piece of glass in side of house.

Dave: Are you one of my new roommates?

TV Roommate: Roommate, roommate, yes, yes, yes. I watch television.

Dave: Oooookay.

(SFX: Footsteps, TV dims)

Dave: Jules!

Jules: Yes, my good man?

Dave: Who's that in the living room?

Jules: The one sitting on top of the guy who's asleep on our couch?

Dave: Yeah, the Eastern European TV watcher.

Jules: That's Yurgi. Didn't I tell you he'd moved in? He's an exchange student! So be nice to him, because it's politically incorrect to tell a foreign person that he's behaving like a jerk.

Dave: I'm sure we'll get along just fine, Jules. I'll go try to make friends with him. (SFX: Footsteps, TV louder) What are you watching, Yurgi?

TV Roommate: Ees very special. My favorite program, "Ze Love Before Lunchtime." Is most popular soap opera in my native land of Degradovnia. I watch every episode.

Dave: How? It's not broadcasted here.

TV Roommate: Is never to fear. Friend Ivan in Degradovnia videotapes and sends to me.

Dave: I see.

TV Roommate: Is wanting to watch you are? I make room on couch.

Dave: I can't sit there.

TV Roommate: You are prejudiced against Degradovinians! I tell you mother.

Dave: I am not!

TV Roommate: I see it in your eyes. You filthy perverted Americans with your George Bush and your Where Threads Come Loose. Why you no sit next to honest upright Degradovianik name of Yurgi?

Dave: Because there's a guy already sleeping on the couch, and I'd have to sit on his head.

TV Roommate: Is no excuse. In Degradovna is common practice, even among strangers.

Dave: I'll just stand.

TV Roommate: Sure? Is good episode! Ivanka finds her lost dog after years of mystery and deceit. And Boris is torn between declaring his love for Berthilda or telling her he knew all along that her world-famous birthmark was nothing but a skin rash.

Dave: No, really, it's OK.

TV Roommate: It is your self to be suited for.

Dave: Listen, could you turn it down?

TV Roommate: What?

Dave: Turn it down, please.

TV Roommate: What?

Dave: Turn it down.

TV Roommate: Not I am understanding this Americanism. Is please to repeat.

Dave: Can you turn down the television.


TV Roommate: Turn down telephone?

Dave: Television.

TV Roommate: Television?

Dave: Yes.

TV Roommate: Television?

Dave: Yes. Television.

TV Roommate: Is right here! I watch now! "Ze Love Before Lunchtime!"

Dave: No, no, no. I'm asking you to turn down the television.

TV Roommate: No, sorry. Am understanding your speech to me is badly.

Dave: Turn -- it -- down.

TV Roommate: Do you speak Degradovinian? Nugo papalo Degradovnishtefloog?

Dave: No. Forget it, I'll just turn it down myself.

(SFX: Volume dips)

TV Roommate: What are you doing?!

Dave: It's too loud!

TV Roommate: I watch it! How you just come in and do that and not saying nothing?

Dave: You can watch it quieter, can't you?

TV Roommate: No. (SFX: Volume goes back up)

Dave: Oh, come on. You could hear the TV across the street at this volume.

TV Roommate: Is must loud be! Is "Ze Love Before Lunchtime!" Always loud it must be! Is tradition!

Dave: Alright, alright.

TV Roommate: Besides, if TV is loud, then I have excuse not to mingle with disgusting foreigners or learn new customs while I am exchange student.

Dave: How many of these shows do you plan to watch?

TV Roommate: I watch television.

Dave: How many shows?

TV Roommate: Television.

Dave: How many shows?

TV Roommate: I watch all the time television.

Dave: Answer the question.

TV Roommate: I answer the question.

Dave: How many shows do you plan to watch?

TV Roommate: All of them I watch.

Dave: How much longer will this take?

TV Roommate: I watch all the time.

Dave: Please! I want to know if I understand what you're saying.

TV Roommate: Look, look. Here is box. Big, big big cardboard box. It is filled to brim of brim with lovely videotape. Many thousands of minutes of delectable Degradovnian television programming. I watch all the time.

Dave: Oh, my god... It's going to take you weeks to watch all that. Maybe even months.

TV Roommate: And my lease is only for year long. But is never to fear. When I run out of videotape, Friend Ivan in Degradovna is promise to send me more!

Dave: (aghast) What?!

TV Roommate: I watch television!

Dave: Yes, you certainly do.

TV Roommate: "Ze Love Before Lunchtime."

Dave: Don't you have any friends?

TV Roommate: Friends?

Dave: Yes. You know, people who you do things with. People that do more than watch television with you.

TV Roommate: I have friends. Friend Ivan in Degradovna, he --

Dave: I mean friends here. In town. In this country.

TV Roommate: Friend here?

Dave: Yes. Do you?

TV Roommate: Does snoring guy on couch count?

Dave: No.

TV Roommate: Then I must conclude that I do not.

Dave: Why not?

TV Roommate: I no like American values. American is lazy butt-sitting couch sweet potato space filler. Also they hog the remote. This I discovered even before I got off airplane in New York. So from first day of being me in new country, I made decision: I no like the American. I no spend no time with no American. But go home I cannot. Is too much effort to buy plane ticket. So I find nice apartment with, how you say, videotape machine and television, and I say to self, "Self, I will watch television." So I do. I do watch television.

Dave: So let me get this straight. You have a chance to go to another country, learn about a new culture, a new language, make new friends, all that stuff.

TV Roommate: Yes.

Dave: Rather than any of that, you sit around watching cheesy, trite soap operas in your native language all day.

TV Roommate: Yes! You quick learn Degradovnan way. Is please to hand me cheese dip.

Dave: Why don't you just go home? Wouldn't you be more comfortable in your native country watching that pathetic soap opera?

TV Roommate: Is no pathetic! Is "Ze Love Before Lunchtime!"

Dave: Whatever! Why come 11,000 miles just to watch TV?

TV Roommate: Reception is better.

Dave: Forget it. I can't get through to you. I'm going to the kitchen.

TV Roommate: Yankee go home!

Dave: I am home. You're in my house.

TV Roommate: Feh.

(TV fades away)

Jules: (extremely angry) K, I'll tell you this once, buy your own stick of deodorant! And if you must use mine, kindly confine its use to just your armpits!

K: But Jules, you don't understand -- I want my body to feel fresh all over -- fresh as the morning dew!

Jules: (Screams back at him, but just adlib, it fades under Dave)

Dave: Maybe I'll go to my room instead.

(SFX: Doorbell)

Dave: No, I'll get the front door. (SFX: Door opens) Hello?

Phone Guy: I'm Bill. I'm moving in.

Dave: Hi.

Phone Guy: Don't "hi" me, I'm no friend of yours. Where's my room?

Dave: Um... there's three bedrooms unclaimed on the second floor, so take your pick.

Phone Guy: Do they have phone jacks?

Dave: Yes, they all do.

Phone Guy: I'll take the one with the best phone service.

Dave: Um... I think they're all about the same.

Phone Guy: Then it doesn't matter. I'm expecting a call.

Dave: OK.

Phone Guy: If anyone calls, let me know and I'll answer it. I don't want anyone to know I live with you. Nothing personal. I just don't like you.

Dave: You only just met me.

Phone Guy: I'm making up for lost time.

Dave: Now, wait a --

Phone Guy: I'm expecting several very important phone calls. Here, take this.

Dave: What is it?

Phone Guy: I made up a schedule of when people are allowed to use the telephone.

Dave: Uh-huh.

Phone Guy: It's color-coded. See, you're in blue. The only times you're allowed to use the phone are marked in blue. I've given colors to everyone in the house.

Dave: I notice that yellow gets the phone between 6 in the morning to 3 hours after midnight.

Phone Guy: Yeah, that's me. I'm expecting a lot of important phone calls.

Dave: You blocked off 21 hours of undisputed phone time to yourself, and shoved the rest of us between 3 and 6 a.m.?

Phone Guy: Hmm... Better put me down for 4 to 5 a.m. too.

(SFX: Phone rings)

Dave: Oh, excuse me. (pause, phone picks up) Hello, this is Dave.

Phone Guy: Hey! What are you doing?!

Dave: I'm... answering the phone.

Phone Guy: C'mon, man -- I'm expecting a call.

Dave: Well, let me find out who it is. Maybe it's for you.

Phone Guy: Just don't take too long.

Dave: Hello?

Paranoiac: Is this Dave?

Dave: Yes.

Phone Guy: Is it for me? It's for me, isn't it? Gimme the phone!

Dave: It's for me! Chill!

Phone Guy: Fine. Just fine. Don't talk too long, man. I'm expecting a call.

Dave: Right, right... Hello, are you still there?

Paranoiac: Indeed! You can't get rid of me that easily!

Dave: You!

Paranoiac: Me! Calling for you!

Dave: Me!

Paranoiac: You!

Dave: You!

Paranoiac: Me!

Dave: Me!

Paranoiac: You!

Dave: Enough of this -- let's talk about us.

Paranoiac: Alright. Have you changed your mind?

Dave: No.

Paranoiac: Too bad. How's things goin' at your house?

Dave: Um... A little chaotic, but things will settle down.

Paranoiac: Heh heh heh... you sure about that? The curse hasn't suddenly intensified or anything, has it?

Dave: (tries to lie) Nnnnnnno. (can't do it) Alright, dammit, yes it has.

Phone Guy: Are you still on the phone?

Dave: Yes!

Phone Guy: I told you, man -- I'm expecting a call.

Dave: Just be calm, Bill. We've got call waiting. I'll let you know if anyone calls, and you can call them back when I'm off.

Phone Guy: That's simply not good enough.

Dave: (frustrated groan) Hello? Listen, I can't talk too much longer.

Paranoiac: Oh, I see -- one of your roommates giving you a hard time, huh?

Dave: What do you think?

Paranoiac: Just a couple of bucks, and everything's fine, friend.

Dave: Never! I have my pride! I won't give in to your extortion.

Paranoiac: Fine, fine. I'll just step up the pace of the curse. You're getting edgy with just four bad roommates -- I'll make it twenty! Ha ha ha ha! I'll be there tomorrow to get the cash. (Hangs up, dialtone)

Phone Guy: Are you off the phone yet?

Dave: Yes, you creep.

Phone Guy: It's about time. I'm expecting a call.

Dave: I'm going to my room. (SFX: Doorbell) No. I'll get the front door.

Bert: Hi, I'm Bert, your new roommate. Can you help me with these boxes?

Dave: Oof! God, these are heavy.

Bert: Yeah. They're all my dirty dishes. I was too lazy to wash any of them in the whole year I lived at my old place, so I packed them up and brought them here.

Dave: Really?

Bert: Yeah. Where's your sink? I have to be sure to stack them up so high you can't even use the spigot.

Dave: Tell you what... for now, put them over on the couch.

TV Roommate: Hello! I watch television!

Bert: Cool! I refuse to wash dishes.

TV Roommate: Come sit on couch with me name of Yurgi.

Bert: Sure. Hey, cool, it's "Ze Love Before Lunchtime"! (SFX: Plates crash) Oops -- I dropped one of my boxes of plates. Oh, well, somebody else will clean it up if I just ignore it long enough.

(SFX: Doorbell)

Dave: The front door! I'll get that.

(SFX: Door opens)

Dave: Hello?

Deadhead1: Whoa -- check out the vibe.

Deadhead2: I can feel the pace and love in this house, man. It's beautiful.

Deadhead1: It's settled. We'll stay here.

Dave: Who are you?

Deadhead1: We're your new roommates, man. I'm Morris, and this is Ivan. We're looking for a nice mellow permanent home after years of aimlessly wandering after the Grateful Dead. Preferably something with a relaxed drug-use policy.

Deadhead2: Do you own a turntable?

Dave: I'm pleased to meet you too.

Deadhead2: Don't be rude, man. Just tell me when I can borrow your turntable.

Dave: I've got one in my bedroom, but I don't know about --

Deadhead2: Cool. (shouts) Hey, guys -- it's all clear! Get the vinyl out of the van and start trucking it in!

Dave: Vinyl?

Deadhead1: Our bootlegs, man! We've got one of the biggest collections of Grateful Dead bootlegs in the country. It's the envy of thousands. I have 56 nearly identical versions of "Uncle John's Band," including one really rare and valuable one where Jerry Garcia has this nasty cough during the second verse.

Dave: Oh. That's very... nice.

Deadhead1: Where can we put it? It weighs just under two tons, so we've got to be sure the floor has enough bracing.

Dave: Um... how about on top of that pile of videotapes over there?

TV Roommate: Hello! I watch television!

Deadhead1: Cool.

Deadhead2: Now that Jerry's... (sniffs) he's... no longer with us, we have only our thousands of hours of bland psychedelia to help shelter us from reality.

Deadhead1: And enough ganja to make a rabid water buffalo get all serene and gaze up peacefully at the stars.

Deadhead2: Shhh! He could be a narc, man!

Deadhead1: Oh -- right, right. (pause, then, unconvincing) Um... Not that we smoke marijuana or anything.

Deadhead2: (unconvincing) No, indeed.

Deadhead1: (open sob) Jerry! I can't believe he's gone -- he seemed so healthy.

Deadhead2: It's OK, man, I'm here.

Deadhead1: Oh, man, those were such good times... When we started following the Dead three years ago --

Deadhead2: Four.

Deadhead1: Four?

Deadhead2: Yeah, man.

Deadhead1: What year is it?

Deadhead2: 1995, man.

Deadhead1: Oh. I guess you're right then. Those four years were the best of my life, man. It's just too bad I no longer have the ability to remember them.

Deadhead2: It's OK, Morris. The utopian dream of the Grateful Dead will never be forgotten, even when we're all prematurely senile.

Deadhead1: You're right, man....

Dave: What was so great about the Grateful Dead?

(SFX: Slap)

Deadhead2: Silence!

Dave: Ow!

Deadhead2: The Grateful Dead were a shining example of the counterculture's ability to thrive outside of the moneygrubbing, capitalist mainstream that is only interested in one thing -- making a profit!

Deadhead1: Yeah -- Jerry wanted to get really stoned and make a profit.

Deadhead2: That's two things!

Dave: Come on.

Deadhead2: Listen, man -- the Grateful Dead really took a stand against being co-opted by the venal forces of the marketplace. And we've got the T-shirts and the records and the badges and the flags and the ice cream and the ties and the bumper stickers and the posters to prove it.

Deadhead1: Too heavy... I gotta sit down. (pause, then sings "Uncle John's Band" off-key)

(SFX: Doorbell)

Dave: The front door! I'll get that.

Moonflower: Hi, I'm moving in. I'm Moonflower, a committed leftist and militant vegetarian. Here's an exhaustive list of the products I boycott.

Dave: This looks like a wholesaler's catalog.

Moonflower: It is. To save time, I boycott everything, even if they haven't done anything wrong. All business interests are inherently evil. Memorize the list, because if I ever catch you using one of the products on it, I'll launch into a twenty-minute tirade featuring flagrant misquotations from Noam Chomsky.

Dave: But --

Moonflower: And don't ever disagree with me, or I'll accuse you of buying into the myth of political correctness, because even though I rarely take the time or trouble to analyze my own point of view, the left has a natural claim to the moral high ground and therefore I'm always right.

Dave: Welcome to the Apartment of the Damned.

(SFX: Doorbell)

Dave: The front door! I'll get that.

Chad: Hi. I'm moving in. I'm Chad. I used to play football for my small-town high school team and I violently oppose any points of view different from my provincial and anti-intellectual experience. Every time I get drunk, which will be every night between 5:30 p.m. and 3:30 a.m., I'll get loud and belligerent and begin accusing people of having points of view different from my provincial and anti-intellectual experience.

Dave: Gotcha. Anything else I should know?

Chad: To prove I'm pro-life and really mean it, I'll hang up pictures of aborted fetuses on the refrigerator and in the bathroom. When you complain that you don't want to look at them, especially when you're eating, I'll get mad and break something that belongs to you. Or, if I'm drunk, I'll try to start a fight with you that will end when I throw up on your bedroom door. Also, at least once a day, I'll make a wildly biased statement about minorities even though I do not personally know any.

Dave: Welcome to the Apartment of the Damned.

(SFX: Doorbell)

Dave: The front door! I'll get that.

Ernest: Hi. I'm Ernest. I'll be shamelessly taking advantage of your computer's Internet link to fill up your hard drive with dirty pictures from the World Wide Web!

Dave: Welcome to the Apartment of the Damned.

(SFX: Doorbell)

Dave: The front door! I'll get that.

Jerome: Hi. I'm moving in. I'm Jerome. I bought a drum set a week ago, and I'll be spending hours in a futile attempt to learn how to keep the beat. My unwashed, heroin-addicted friends will sometimes come over, and we'll play the same Ramones song over and over again, but with less skill and grace than the Ramones did. Then we'll all pass out.

Dave: Welcome to the Apartment of the Damned.

(SFX: Doorbell)

Dave: The front door! I'll get that.

Scotsman: Angus MacHaggis of the Clan MacHaggis!

Penguin: Ack!

Scotsman: An' this is me penguin companion Esmerelda!

Penguin: Ack!

Dave: How many more of you are there?

Scotsman: Ach, man! There's a greet bunch of us! None of us will ever pay our rent on time, an' we'll jes' laugh at ye when the lan'lord threatens ye wit' eviction.

Dave: I'm beginning to think I'm in over my head.

Penguin: Ack!

TV Roommate: Is please to quiet penguin! Am trying to watch television I am is are.

Dave: I'm beginning to get a migraine.

Scotsman: Ach, well, ye'd better start developin' thicker skin, me lad!

Penguin: Ack!

Scotsman: Look oot the front window!

Dave: There must be fifty people out there!

Scotsman: Aye! Meet yer new roommates!

Dave: They won't all fit in here!

Scotsman: We don't ha'e to for very long! We're jes part of the curse to drive ye crazy!

Dave: Oy.

Penguin: Ack!

Dave: Eh?

Penguin: Ack!

Scotsman: Aye!

Penguin: Ack!

Dave: Aaaagh! Stop saying Ack!

Penguin: Ack.

Scotsman: Ach! Ye'd best jes give a couple of bucks to the paranoid guy so we can all get this over with.

Dave: No. That is not an option. I'm going to go get some advice. Do me a favor. Don't burn the house down until I get back.

Scotsman: Ach an' begorra! It's "Ze Love Before Lunchtime!"

Penguin: Ack!

Phone Guy: Hey! Get away from that phone! I'm expecting a call!

SCENE VII: St. Filbert's Cathedral
Announcer: Later, in the confessional at St. Filbert's Cathedral.

(Gregorian chanting)

Dave: Forgive me, father, for I have sinned.

Father Flaherty: Oh, have you? Well, what business is that of mine?

Dave: That's why I'm here in this confessional, father.

Father Flaherty: Well, glory be. I thought this was just an extremely ornate telephone booth that just happened to be in the middle of a church.

Dave: No, it's a confessional.

Father Flaherty: Huh. No wonder I never get a dial tone. I wonder why they didn't tell me about this at the seminary?

Dave: Father, please, I'm really in trouble here.

Father Flaherty: Lay it on me, my son, and don't spare a single salacious detail. I don't get out to the bars as often as I used to.

Dave: I was arrogant to a greedy paranoiac who controls the power of voodoo. I mocked him, and now my rudeness has backfired on me and made my life a living hell.

Father Flaherty: Ye don' say?

Dave: Worse yet, this episode has little dramatic unity, and is mainly a series of unrelated encounters between me and a bunch of annoying eccentrics, linked by the weakly drawn premise that I've got bad mojo. It doesn't even link well to the previous episode, and this is supposed to be a two-part show.

Father Flaherty: True. That snoring guy on your couch is a particularly pointless bit. I'm surprised the writer kept it in. But we shouldn't talk about this, my son. It's a sin to break the fourth wall. You'd better do ten Our Fathers and ten Hey Sweet Mamas when you leave.

Dave: Yes, father.

Father Flaherty: Now tell me about your other sins.

Dave: That's about it, father.

Father Flaherty: Really? Pity. I was hoping for something a little, you know, racier. Don't you know any women of loose morals?

Dave: Look, I need help. Doesn't the church perform exorcisms?

Father Flaherty: Well, we always do in horror movies, so we must do it in real life too.

Dave: Thank God! I've got a landlord from hell and a set of roommates from hell to match.

Father Flaherty: Sounds like you really do got some bad mojo brewin', my son.

Dave: The paranoid guy would lift the curse if I just gave him a couple of bucks, but I'm proud and stubborn and refuse to give him the satisfaction. Can't you help?

Father Flaherty: Hmm... Ordinarily, yes, but our specialist in voodoo counter-charms got a papal dispensation to visit Disneyworld.

Dave: Bummer.

Father Flaherty: Yes. We weep for him and pray God protects his soul.

Dave: But there's nothing you can do for me?

Father Flaherty: Well... I can't guarantee it'll work, but I've got an idea. Come closer, my son. I'll whisper it in your ear. (Whispers)

Dave: Father, that's so crazy it just might work!

Father Flaherty: It worked for Pope Ernesto at the Conclave of Jellybagel in 1446.

Dave: I'll give it a shot.

Father Flaherty: Go in peace, my son.

(Chants fade up into scene-change music)

SCENE VIII: The house
Announcer: Later, back at the Apartment of the Damned.

(SFX: chicken)

Dave: Here's two dollars. Is that enough, or do you want more?

Paranoiac: No, no, that's plenty. I've got to say, you're being awfully nice about this.

Dave: Oh, heck -- I'm a good sport. You beat me fair and square. (pause) But there is one thing.

Paranoiac: What's that?

Dave: I'd like a receipt. For my, um, for my taxes.

Paranoiac: I dunno... This could be a crafty trick!

Dave: Oh, come on...

Paranoiac: Look, man, I know my history -- this is how Pope Ernesto schnookered the people at the Conclave of Jellybagel in 1446!

Dave: (slightly taken aback, clears throat) How dare you accuse me of repeating that hoary old trick. It's a small thing to ask, after all you've put me through.

Paranoiac: Well... alright.

Dave: Great. Just sign here. Right at the bottom of this document that I've got mostly covered up by another sheet of paper.

Paranoiac: This doesn't look like a receipt.

Dave: Would I lie to you?

Paranoiac: Gosh... I guess you have no reason to lie... OK, there.

Dave: Ha! Got you!

Paranoiac: What?

Dave: This really isn't a receipt!

Paranoiac: It wasn't?

Dave: No! Ha ha ha!

Paranoiac: Let me see this -- Oh, god! It's a legally binding subcontract! I've been tricked into subletting your apartment! The very one I've cursed!

Dave: Yes! Your mojo hen can't help you now!

Paranoiac: Aaagh! The only way to lift the curse now would be for me to donate two dollars to myself! It's a logical paradox! Semantically, the very idea twists in upon itself until nothing remains!

(SFX: Giant sucking sound)

Dave: What's that noise?

Paranoiac: The ironic weight of the unfulfillable curse is causing the very fabric of reality to become frayed and torn by strange forces and buffeted by the winds of change!

Dave: What?

Paranoiac: The ordinary is becoming unraveled and woven into unexpected forms!

Dave: What the hell are you talking about? You're not making sense!

Paranoiac: The apartment is imploding on itself just like in "Poltergeist"! Run!

Dave: But everything I own is still here in the apartment -- oh, except for my Lawrence Welk albums.

Paranoiac: Forget that! Run! Run as you value your soul! Aaaaaagh! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh!

(SFX: Swirly, spiralling crescendo, which ends in a pop like a bubble bursting.)

Dave: Wow. That worked out better than I thought it would.

Jules: Oh, my stars and garters.

K: What happened?

Dave: Jules, K, are you alright?

Jules: Yes, we're fine.

K: Where did the house go?

Dave: I'll explain later. You guys up for coffee?

Jules: Sure.

Dave: You know, it's true what they say.

K: What's that?

Dave: A man's home is his hassle.

K: Who says that?

Jules: Yes, I've never heard anyone say that.

Dave: It was a joke.

(SFX: long fade begins here)

Jules: I don't get it.

Dave: Forget it.

K: What was a joke?

Dave: Never mind, I said.

Jules: Shouldn't you have said "castle," not "hassle"?

Dave: Yes. That was what made it a joke.

K: Made what a joke? Did someone say something funny?

Dave: Forget it, I said.

Jules: You brought it up, Dave.

Dave: Fnord.