Transcribed from: Comedy Central
Transcribed by: Tlyco@aol.com
[Scott is next to a cloth backdrop painting of a car and meter. He takes a quarter and puts it into the meter. It falls to the floor.]
- Bruce- Evan (dressed in black, slicked hair, wearing name tag)
- Scott- Paul, a customer
- Mark- Satan
[Cut to inside the shoe store. Bruce is fixing a display of shoes in the middle of the set. Scott enters through the door.]
Scott: Excuse me, do you work here?
Bruce: My answer to you is "yes." I. . .doubt I'd be fixing this display in my spare time. Ha ha.
Scott: [laughs] Yeah.
Bruce: [laughing, then stops] I see you've noticed my name tag; I guess I'm Evan to you now. And, if you had a name tag it would read?
Bruce: So, Paul, why have the Gods brought us together?
Scott: Well, Evan, umm, I'm looking for a pair of shoes.
[Bruce turns to face away from Scott's face, to think. Scott would be looking over Bruce's shoulder.]
Bruce: And how fast are you thinking of going in these shoes?
Scott: Umm, walking speed, I suppose.
Bruce: Yet be able to. . .run, in the case of an emergency?
Scott: Sure, yeah.
Bruce: I understand. Right this way.
[Bruce walks in a circle around the display. Scott follows him. Accompanying music: The "Bellini" whistle theme.]
[Bruce picks up a shoe and the music stops abruptly.]
Bruce: [animated] This might be the shoe you have just described!
Scott: Ooo. Uh, do you have it in a ten?
Bruce: [fake laughter] Ha, ha, ha, ha.
Scott: [confused, laughs along.]
Bruce: Your curiosity pleases me. The fates are our friends this day; this happens to be a ten.
Bruce: [Stage whisper volume, yet enthusiastically] Try it on!
[Scott sits down in a chair and starts to put on the shoes. Bruce pulls up the shoe bench and sits down on it.]
Bruce: It is at this point that your old shoes might rather seem pathetic.
Bruce: So, how's the fit?
Scott: Well, seems okay.
Bruce: Seems, Paul? I have been faithful to the things that seem to send my soul soaring in the past: The music, the music that people made; the cultures that made mine seem beige in comparison; the laughter; the sea, always the sea that left me here seemingly to sell my shoes. How's the fit?
Scott: Well, it's a little big. D'you have it in a. . .nine and a half?
Scott: Could ya check?
[Scott kind of turns to the audience in confusion. . .what should he do?]
Bruce: I see my answer displeases you.
Bruce: See, as you are to your body, so am I to my stock. You have no tail?
Scott: [checks behind himself] No.
Bruce: I have no nine and a halves.
Scott: Ah, d'you, do you have it in brown?
Bruce: I am well stocked in the color of cowards.
Bruce: Then, [slaps his hands on his knees and rises] brown it shall be?
Bruce: [is turned away from Scott] Then I have made a sale?
Scott: It would appear so, Evan.
Bruce: [evil] I sell shoes!
[Audio: thunder clap. Cut to Mark.]
Mark: [evil laughing] And so you always shall!!
Bruce: [holding shoe up to his face and grimacing] Thank you Satan!
[Audio: Thunder clap.]