Story #3

This story was created by Cl0vis15:

Sam and Max

(Scene of Sam watching a soap opera on T.V. while eating ice cream, Max walks in and sits in the chair next to Sam.)

Max: Is it me, or do you look like the poster child for a Jenny Graig add?

Sam: (sighing) You got me there little buddy. My date whom I had met on the internet dumped when she learned I was a dog. She said she wasnít a dog person.

Max: (Smiling) I know where you can find women that arenít discriminative of members of another species.

Sam: (Shocked) Max! Donít talk about such women, kids will be reading this.

(Max begins to hop up and down)

Max: You canít stay depressed all day!

Sam: Youíre right Max. Letís go to the mall. Maybe I can cheer myself up by pestering under trained clerks, who are highschool drop outs, with technical questions.

Max: (Becoming really excited) Since youíre in such a bad mood, will you mind if while weíre at the mall, I try to cheer you up by beating people up at random?

Sam: Nope, I wouldnít mind at all if you did that.

Max: (Excitedly) Letís Go! Iím driving!

Sam: So long as you donít mind me clawing at the dash board screaming like a cheer leader!

(Fade to scene of Sam & Max driving their police car towards the town mall. They pass a highway sign that reads: "I Know What You Did Last Exit".)

Max: Sam, what do you plan on buying at the mall, or do you just plan on getting kicks by by taxing the clerks insignificant brains with arcane questions.

Sam: I wish I could say that weíre going here for mere pleasure, but I lost my dry cleaning ticket, and now they wonít give me my clothes back.

Max: You mean you have clothes other than your trench coat, and pants?

Sam: Yes, and I left my gun in my other pants. Without a ticket I canít get my pants or gun back.

Max: Well, while weíre at the Gun Store, Iím going to see If I can buy a do-it-yourself nuclear terrorist kit.

Sam: Youíre such a lively scamp Max.

Max: Of course I am, I drink coffee!

(fade to a scene of Sam & Max in a clothing store questioning a clerk.)

Sam: Listen here half-pint, I didnít ask you to read me the tag on the shirt. I asked you if it was made in some third world country by slave labor.

Clerk: I donít know, let me get my manager.

(The Clerk walks away from the counter to get the manager.)

Sam: Dang, he bailed out before I could get into the more interesting questions.

Max: This is boring Sam, I havenít found a suitable victim yet.

(Sam sees a man hold seems to be holding something under his coat.)

Sam: Well speak of the devil, there seems to be a shoplifter right over there.

Max: The devil, the devil. So, could I aprehend, subdue, and otherwise pummel the suspected shoplifter?

Sam: Go for it little buddy.

(Camera pans away so you can only see Sam, on the wall behind him you can the silouhette of Max beating up the shoplifter. Sam flinches after each blow.)

Sam: Ohh, ahh, youch thatís gotta hurt.

(Max walks over to Sam holding a cast.)

Max: He wasnít a shoplifter, he just had a broken arm, hereís the cast.

Sam: Well, Iíd now say that his entire body is broken. Letís leave before he comes to.

(Sam and Max begin to walk out of the clothing store.)

Sam: (Whistling), Max, youíre not whistling.

Max: Am I supposed too?

Sam: Youíre always supposed to whistle when you walk away from the scene of a crime.

Max: Would that fall under the category of cheesy clichťs, or retrospective Nostalgia?

Sam: A litte of both I think.

(Fade to a scene of Sam & Max entering the gun store, on the window of the mall outlet is a sign reading: "Buy your gun on Wednesdays and get it autographed by ĎSteve Purcellí".)

Sam: So, honorable clerk of a establishment that sells guns to police, crazy homicidal neighbors, and your common corner thug, whatís your name?

Zack: The nameís Zack, Zack McKraken. As to those other people, you canít prove anything, they all had permits. Now what can I get for you two?

Sam: A Saturday night special please.

Zack: Didnít we sell you one last week. What happened to it?

Max: (interrupting Sam) He left it in his clothes at the dry cleaner, then lost the ticket.

Zack: I hate it when that happens. Iím going to check in the back to see if we have any left.

(Zack leaves the counter and goes to the back.)

Max: At least heís nicer then the clerk they had here last week.

Sam: Heís better looking to. It took us five minutes just to realize that the clerk wasnít mooning us, and that was his face. He couldíve claimed he was talking from his butt, and youíd believe him.

Max: Or at least until Jim Carrey would bring on the oh-so invitable law suit for such an obvious act of plagiarism.

(Zack returns from the back room, carrying the requested gun.)

Zack: Before I give you this, so as to protect myself from lawsuits, I need you to promise me that youíre not going to kill somebody with this.

Sam: Iíll promise that if I shoot somebody, that theyíll have deserved it.

Zack: (Hands Sam the gun) Thatís good enough for me. You have to take the precautions just in case you know.

Sam: Touchť.

Zack: Now what can I get for you white friend.

Max: Iíd like a do-it-yourself nuclear terrorist kit, and donít skimp on the plutonium.

Zack: I see.

(Zack reaches under the desk and pushes a button marked: "Push in case of possible Nuclear Terrorist in store". Seconds after pushing it a C.I.A. agent runs in the room.)

C.I.A.: Which one of you purchased the do-it-yourself nuclear terrorist kit?

Max: (raising hand) I did.

C.I.A.: Do you plan on using that kit to blow up the president, start world war 3, destroy lucasarts, nuke all the worldís JAR-JAR fans. . .

(Screen fades to black, the text "One Hour Later" appears, scene fades back in)

C.I.A.: . . .blow up the earthís core or use it to super cook any chickens.

Max: Ofcourse not. I was going to try to improve on the existing instructions that came with it. Then sumbit my improved Nuclear Missile into a science fair. Can we go now.

C.I.A.: Yes, you can go now, I was just checking.

(Sam and Max leave the mall and go back to their apartment)

Sam: You never told me that you were entering a science fair, I never thought you had the brain power.

Max: Iím not entering any science fair, I just said that to get him to leave us alone. Iím going to use the missile to force your sister to pay me back the five dollars she owes from a bet.

Sam: Getting her to honor her promises is like trying to pull teeth. Which reminds me, I have a dentist appointment tommorow.

Max: Sam, can I ask you a question.

Sam: Go ahead little buddy.

Max: Is touchť even a real word?

THE END:

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