Tag Archives: Purgatory

The Real World: Purgatory, Ep. 3

20 Nov

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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?”

The Real World: Purgatory, Ep. 2

18 Nov
"This is the true story...
“This is the true story…
cleopatra
“…of seven strangers…”
carl
“…picked to live in a house…”
teresa
“…work together and have their lives taped…”
"...to find out what happens..."
“…to find out what happens…”
katharine
“…when people stop being polite…”
kyle
“…and start getting real.”

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Mark Twain Confessional:

I think last night I heard Kyle and Cleopatra doin’ a little bit of this. (Makes an “O” shape with left hand, moves right pointer finger in and out of “O” shape.) I don’t have any solid evidence, no, but I feel that soon enough I will. (Raises a small legal pad with “Evidence” written across the top in crayon. Mark Twain winks at the camera demurely and spits on the ground.)


“He’s been on the damn computer all night!” Cleopatra screams. Carrot Top sits at the computer, looking annoyed.

“Maybe we should all share the computer,” Karl interjects, both hands outstretched in a gesture of mediation. “We all need it. It’d be most beneficial for us all to get equal time with the computer.”

“Stay out of this, Karl,” Carrot Top says, pointing at Karl. “Hey, hey Cleopatra, look at this!” Carrot Top holds up a stuffed toy dog with a comically-large set of teeth affixed to its mouth.

“What is that?” Cleopatra asks.

“This is the only mouthy bitch I need in my life.” Carrot Top then sets the dog on the computer desk and slides it into the trash can.

“When did you even have time to make that?” Cleopatra asks, hands on her hips, hair up in a towel.

“You know what? I don’t know.” The look on Carrot Top’s face leapt in an instant from over-whelming self-satisfaction to a deep, confused terror. “When did I make that?” Carrot Top begins trembling, starting at his hands.

Cleopatra reluctantly steps forward, placing a napkin on Carrot Top’s shoulder, then placing her hand on the napkin. “Are you all right, Carrot Top?” By this time, Kyle and Mother Teresa have entered the room. They are wearing eachother’s clothes.

Carrot Top looks up at Cleopatra, a flicker of hope in his eyes. “I’ll be a lot better if you’d let me…SCREW YOU!” From under the desk, he pulls out a giant power-drill with sunglasses taped to it. Cleopatra jerks her hands away and grumbles loudly. “Oh, come on!” Carrot Top yells. “That’s funny! It’s comic GOLD!” Carrot Top pulls out a foot-long, gold plated Jerry Seinfeld statue. Carrot Top then leans back, laughing obnoxiously. Kyle approaches him and pulls back his bonnet.

“Hey man. Why don’t you chill out?”

“Chill out? Well I’d have to say that it’s ice of you to stop b–” Carrot Top starts to reach under the desk.

“Stop,” Kyle says.

“Stop? Why don’t you learn to t–” He reaches under the desk again.

“You know, I’m kind of a prop comic myself,” Kyle says, his genitals slipping out from under his loose, poorly fitting nuns’ robes.

“Yea? Do one of your jokes, then, using one of your props.” Carrot Top crosses his arms and sits back in the chair. Kyle simply pulls back one side of the robe and removes a 9mm handgun with an ivory handle. Carrot Top almost falls out of his chair from shock. “What the hell kind of joke is this?!”

“The joke is that I’m going to shoot you in your stupid, plastic face,” Kyle says.

“What? How’s that a joke?”

“Well, I think it’d be pretty hilarious. Don’t you, Teresa?”

“Ohhhh yea,” Teresa says from a large bean bag chair in the corner of the room. Karl Marx and Katharine Hepburn sit across from her. Katharine is French-braiding Marx’s beard.

“Listen, I’m sorry, okay?” Carrot Top pleads. “I’m sorry for being so rude. That wasn’t cool.”

“You’re right. It wasn’t cool. Now. Get off the computer. Get off the computer and don’t get on for the rest of the night. From now on, you have to ask Karl for permission before you can use it.”

From across the room, Karl raises his arms and yells “Whatup? Computer master!”

“Do you understand?” Kyle asks.

“I understand,” Carrot Top says.

“Now clean the pee off that seat and tell Cleopatra she can use the computer.” Carrot Top gets up obediently, sprays the seat down with disinfectant from the kitchen, and dries it off. He leaves momentarily, and returns with Cleopatra.

“Thanks, Kyle,” Cleopatra says sweetly, running her hand along the middle of Kyle’s back as she walks to the desk.

(Camera zooms out to Mark Twain, who is now holding up his “Evidence” notepad, grinning. He begins writing furiously, then looks up and nods at the camera smugly.)

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