The Real World: Purgatory, Ep. 3

20 Nov


Cast: Mark Twain, Katharine Hepburn, Karl Marx, Mother Teresa, “Iron” Kyle Irion, Cleopatra, Carrot Top.

Katharine Hepburn Confessional:

So, today we get our assignment for what our job will be for the next few…eternity? Shit.

The cast sits in the living room, sharing a meal. The furniture is made to resemble 70’s era decor–all rounded–all very, very hip.

On one couch sits Karl, Teresa, and Mark. On the love seat, Cleopatra and Kyle both sit Indian-style (They’re both holding bows, arrows, and broken treaties.) Carrot Top sits by himself on the floor in the middle of the room. Katharine sits in a recliner next to Cleopatra.

An electronic ringing is heard and Karl stands up. “I just got a new message on my T-Mobile Sidekick™!” Everybody gathers around.”It says: ‘Time to work, Real Worlders. Be in front of the house tomorrow at 9am sharp.'”

“I wonder what that means.” Mother Teresa says.

“What do you mean, what it means?” Katharine asks. “It’s pretty clear to me.”

“Is it some kind of riddle?”

“It’s instructions, Teresa,” Karl says. Teresa sits down slowly, eyeing them all suspiciously.

Mother Teresa Confessional:

I’m gonna get that fucking immunity. Believe that.

(The camera jumps from shot to shot of all the room mates going to sleep. A night vision shot shows Cleopatra crawling into bed with Kyle. Mark Twain sits in the corner with a small pad. He can be heard giggling boyishly. Kyle sits up, throws a shoe at him, and he scurries out.)

The next morning, the room mates all lumber into the large community bath to get ready for their first day of work. Cleopatra is taking a shower and Katharine Hepburn is applying her makeup a few feet away in front of one of the mirrors in the long line of vanities.

“So, are you and Kyle a thing now?” She smiles and looks around the corner at the shower. Cleopatra’s head shows from above the shoulder-level curtain.

“I don’t even know what a ‘thing’ is,” Cleopatra replies, washing her hair.

“You know, are you guys a couple? I noticed your absence from the room when I woke up this morning. Where did you sleep last night?”

“I just…got up really early,” Cleopatra says from off camera. They both share a laugh.

Katharine Confessional:

Cleopatra seems pretty cool. It’s nice having another girl in the house who doesn’t look like a skeleton covered in a beige trash bag. Also, I think Teresa has been drunk texting people from my phone. I can’t be sure it’s her though, because there aren’t any words, just nonsense, like she’s just aimlessly pressing down on the keys. (Cut to night vision shot of the girls’ bedroom. Teresa walks to Katharine’s purse, removes her phone and starts texting with her face.)

The room mates now stand in front of the house, waiting to be picked up. Since it’s Purgatory, all there is to see is a vast emptiness of gray mist. You cannot feel the mist, though. It is opaque, but completely odorless and without substance. It is cold. Somewhere, “Achy Breaky Heart” is playing.

Carrot Top squinches his face and farts. “All this fog made me want to make my own contribution! Now it’s really gassy out here!” Kyle reaches over and pistol whips Carrot Top across the back of his skull. Carrot Top crumbles to the ground and lays motionless. No one seems to notice or care–except for Mother Teresa, who removes Carrot Top’s wallet, takes out a handful of cash, and throws it to the ground.

A van arrives to pick up the room mates. Karl and a producer load Carrot Top in through the rear entrance of the van. The room mates are taken to an indiscernible location and dropped off. There waiting for them is Benjamin Franklin.

“Hello, Real Worlders. I bet you’re all waiting eagerly for me to tell you what job you will be performing while living in the house.”

“I’m not,” Katharine says. Ben chuckles uncomfortably. Katharine’s face remains humorless, like slate. “I’m not.”

“Well,” Ben Franklin went on, “Since this season is The Real World’s first season in a nether-realm, our job options were pretty limited, but we’ve made arrangements for you all with a great assignment. You’re going to, at least once a week, haunt someone who is still living.” Mother Teresa hops up and down slightly, clapping her hands.  Mark Twain and Karl Marx high five. Kyle laughs and nods in approval. Cleopatra and Katharine exchange girlish small talk. Carrot Top twitches violently, his eyes now pointing two different directions. “All you have to do is hop in the van and show up here,” Ben continues, “Walk through this door and haunt away. Your hauntee will be randomly chosen by the hands of fate. Oh, and one more thing. The van is yours.” Ben Franklin throws the keys to Karl. All the room mates celebrates clap and celebrate together.  “So, let’s get started, shall we?”

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