copyright © 2002 Howard Zimmerle

Jesse: Howard, I canít believe youíre graduating. You know, weíve had some wacky times together over the years. Weíve been on thousands of road trips, lived together, even had that magical night on the French Riviera.

Howard: You know what? Youíre right. Cleaning out the house reminds me of alot of shit. Hey look at this. Remember the time we went to Ames?

Howard: Are you sure this car is going to get us to...

Jesse: Hell yeah. This is my ghetto cruiser. 1986 Dodge Caravan stick shift. 4 cylinders of raw, unadulterated testosterone. If Jesus had a car, Iíll bet it would look like this.

Howard: Alright. Hey, have you ever looked at Tony the Tiger? Heís the man. Heís the cooolest.

Jesse: Yeah, I guess heís kinda cool.

Howard: Kinda cool? Kinda cool? Heís the SHIT! I would have SEX with Tony the Tiger. Itíd be GRRRREAT.

Jesse: Dude. Do you realize youíre talking about having sex with a man? Not only that, but a man in tiger form.

Howard: Correction. Cartoon tiger form.

Jesse: Yeah. What the fuckís your problem?

Howard: You wouldnít have sex with Tony the Tiger? Faggot. Hey, why are we driving to Ames again?

Jesse: Weíre driving to Wal-Mart in Ames to meet a gay guy and ask him if he wants to meet 80ís porn star Ron Jeremy with us this weekend.

Howard: That was some mad driviní there, dog. I give you mad props on that one.

Jesse: Dog? Props? Howard, youíre white. You can neither possess dogs nor allocate props.

Howard: Man, why you gots to be wastin my flava?

Jesse: Donít you get it? Youíre white! You donít HAVE flava. You canít flow. Your baby doesnít ďgot backĒ. You canít even back that azz up! You have a small penis and you suck at basketball.

Howard: Oh yeah. I think Iím going to put on some country music and watch hockey.


Jesse: Ahh, good times, good times.

Howard: But itís not just that. Weíve had a good deal to say on race relations throughout the time weíve known each other...

Jesse: Hey, Howard! Did I ever tell you about the guy I sit next to in choir?

Howard: Oh yeah. Why?

Jesse: Well I just found out today that heís left handed.

Howard: That sucks.

Jesse: No kidding! You know how those people are... always trying to turn other people left handed. Plus they feel that they have to flaunt it all of the time. There he is, writing backwards, opening things with that hand. Does he have to be so blatant about it?

Howard: Tell me about it. I have a guy with green eyes in one of my classes. What a dumbass. You know all those green eyed people are good at is sports and rap.

Jesse: Yeah. Itís like ALL of the athletes have green eyes now. Brown eyed people canít jump. All brown eyed people can do is play hockey.

Howard: You know why those green eyed people are better at sports? They have an extra tendon in their ankle that lets them run faster and jump higher. And whatís with their names? Gary, Ed, John, Mary, Sarah! Itís like they just picked random syllables out of the dictionary! Theyíre all fucking retarded I tell you. Hey, what do you call one brown eyed guy and eight green eyed guys? The pitcher!


Howard: Yeah, but remember, we try to be of an all-inclusive mindset. I mean, remember that time when you were trying to figure out why you could never get a girlfriend...

Jesse: Iíve never figured out why women donít like me.

Howard: (inquisitively) I always thought it was because youíre gay.

Jesse: Iím not gay! Iíve tried to get women, but they just give me the classic lines, Iím washing my hair, Iím not gay, but Iíll try, me no speaka English...

Howard:(interrupting) All right!

Jesse: I donít want to have to kill you, but I will, the judge said youíre supposed to stay at least 50 feet away from me, IĎm married to the sea...

Howard: (fed up)OK!(questioningly) Are you sure youíre not gay?


Jesse: You know how we always got in trouble for using words like ďgayĒ and ďretardedĒ?

Howard: Yeah, that was gay. And retarded.

Jesse: Yeah, I donít know that Iíll ever figure that out. Speaking of complete failures, remember that time when you were looking for a job?

Howard: Iíve never really had a good job. In fact, Iíve never really HAD a job. My endeavors never really seem to pan out. Door to door salesman, porn star, door to door porn star. I guess itís time for me to apply for a real job. That, my friends, is why Iím here. Iíve never done this sort of thing before, so like a blind man at an orgy, Iíll have to feel things out.

Jesse: (as Howard walks in, Jesse unfreezes) Mr. Zimmerle, I presume?

Howard: Yup. (shakes Jesseís hand)

Jesse: Well... how can I put this? Iíve reviewed your application, and I just donít think youíre qualified for this job. Letís take a look at your resume here... under position desired, you wrote ďdoggystyle.Ē

Howard: Oh. My bad.

Jesse: Iím not finished. Under college attended, you wrote ďmy catís breath smells like cat food.Ē Under previous experience you drew half of your hand, and under career goals you drew the other half of your hand. Not only that, but where you were supposed to attach a list of recommendations, you only attached naked pictures of Bea Arthur.

Howard: Is that a problem?

Jesse: Not the Bea Arthur pictures, but everything else was, yes. Frankly, I fail to see how you think you can work for BET, or Black Entertainment Television. You wouldnít entertain black people! You wouldnít entertain anyone! In fact, for you, a day of big pimpiní would be just a day of regular pimpiní


Howard: Oh yeah, I remember... but hey, I got the job. Remember that performance review after six months there?

Boss: Well, letís get down to business. I forgot, what was your job title again?

Howard: My who in the what now?

Boss: Your job title.

Howard: Whoa, slow down there, Chief. We donít all have fancy ďassociate degreesĒ in ďliberal artsĒ. Some of us have no idea what the hell a ďjob titleĒ or whatever you said even is. You fucking rich hippies with your 5 figure salaries, your Nissans and your Royal Crown cola. You make me wanna retch.

Boss: OK... let me put this simply. Your job... title... is what you do... at work... every day.

Howard: You mean jerk off in the break room?

Boss: Iím going to pretend I didnít hear that.

Howard: Are you hitting on me?

Boss: Heavens no! Iím a happily married man!

Howard: Because if you were I wouldnít have to take it you know. I donít need you to try and ruin my precious flower.

Boss: Letís just more on. Do you have any goals for the remaining fiscal year?

Howard: I really wanna bang that new secretary.

Boss: Anything more... substantial?

Howard: I donít go for fat chicks, dude.

Boss: I meant something related to the company.

Howard: Present company? Sorry, but Iím not banging you dude. I know how these casting couch shenanigans work, and I wonít stand for it. And stop grabbing my ass!

Boss: Let me be blatantly honest.

Howard: Then let me be Keanu Reeves. ďMorpheus... woah.Ē


Some Guy: Hey, donít you hate pants? (J&H shout ďyeah!Ē pull pants down and do the rest of the play with pants around ankles)

Howard: Anyhoo, as I was saying, we had some crazy times. Remember when we did that Public Service Announcement?

Jesse: I love my girlfriend. I love the way her nose wrinkles up when she laughs. I love the way she swings her hips when she walks. Most importantly, I love the way she swallows after she gives me head. She usually gives me head at least twice a week, sometimes more, and I love it. I think if I were to come home some night with a heroin needle still sticking out of my arm and bong residue spilled all over my jeans, sheíd be less likely to give me head that night. I canít have that. My anti-drug is my girlfriend. Whatís your anti-drug?

Howard: I always got picked on in elementary school. All you have to do is wet your pants thirteen, fourteen times a week, and from then on youíre called ďPissy McWetpantsĒ. People still call me Pissy to this day. Well I say fuck that. Iím having my revenge. Every day I go back to my old elementary school and pick one little kid to beat the shit out of. I know that they didnít do anything to me personally, but Iíll bet thereís a new little Pissy McWetpants somewhere in that school, and Iíll bet they make fun of him or her. I look at it as karma. Every time I see a little kid cry and bleed as I beat him or her, I know Iím doing the right thing. My anti-drug is beating up little children on the playground. Whatís your anti-drug?


Jesse: Yeah, that was crazy, but remember that press conference President Shrub called?

Shrub: Well, I thought I should reiterate some of my policies and my rationale behind them. First, I am opposed to abortion. So opposed, in fact, that my first act in office will be to put aborted fetuses BACK into the wombs of unwed mothers. Second, I support school vouchers. It is my belief that failing schools should continue to fail, and the minimal financial support given to them should be reduced even further. Poor people donít deserve an equal education. Third, due to the overwhelming success of the death penalty, I propose that it should be expanded to include further crimes, such as rape, arson, theft, driving without a license, being gay, etc. Fourth, I support posting the 10 commandments in all schools and government buildings, as well as requiring prayer in the public schools. This way Jews, Muslims (pronounce ďmooo-slimsĒ) Hindus, and Atheists alike can be forced to worship Jesus Christ. Finally... (interrupted)

Cheney: (has another heart attack, this one louder and more violent) AAAUGH! My heart! It BURNS, it burns...

Shrub: Uh, Dick? How many heart attacks have you had... today?

Cheney: (getting up) I believe that makes a bakerís dozen, George.


Howard: Heh, heh. That crazy Vice-President and his aorta! Dude, look what I just found! Your journal!

Jesse: Oh yeah? Whatís it say?

Howard: Letís see, May 21st, 2000. Dear diary, what I like the best about the night was when we had sex. As I see it, sex is a race to orgasm, and so far, Iím undefeated!

Jesse: Ok, thatís enough of the journal.

Howard: What, are you embarrassed or something?

Jesse: Hey, youíve done some embarrassing stuff, too. Remember the time...

Howard: I was surfing the net the other day, and I found a site called

Jesse: You were looking for porn werenít you?

Howard: It doesnít matter what I was looking for... the whole point of the story is...

Jesse: I donít care about your story, you were looking for porn.

Howard: OK, OK, I was looking for porn.

Jesse: Was it that sick porn where girls are peeing and stuff?

Howard: No way!! That shit is gross. How could anyone get off by looking at girls pee?

Jesse: I know? Sick fucks! I mean Iíve tried, just to see if I can get something out of it. Iíve even tried getting aroused first, then looking at pictures of girls peeing and hoping I would like it. Nothing.



Howard: Oh, yeah! We had some crazy times living together. Remember that weekend when you missed my birthday party?

Jesse: Dude, it wasnít my fault, I had to go home. It was an emergency.

Howard: What the hell kind of emergency is so important that you had to miss my birthday?

Jesse: Howard, it happened like this...

Jesse: (sad) Hey, Iím going home. My mom just died. I donít know when Iíll be back.

Howard: Sorry, I didnít hear you. I was too busy fucking your mom! Ha, ha, ha. No, seriously, what did you say?


Howard: Oh, shit, I forgot about that. Iím sorry about that.

Jesse: Nah, itís cool.

Howard: Yeah, that was pretty damn funny. Well, man, I think we just cleaned everything out.

Jesse: You know, Howard, you were always there to give me advice and teach me about the real world.

Jesse: My date sucked. And not in the fun way. She kept talking about her ex boyfriend Thad. What the hell kind of a name is Thad anyway? Everything was Thad this and Thad that. I guess heís a stud track star whoís won a bronze in the Olympics or something like that. Supposedly he quit his job in preparation for a marathon. Heís a lock to win too, so heíll get to take the $5000 purse home. Bastard. I drew the line when she asked me to drive her to watch his pansy ass run in it. What a ho.

Howard: I keep telling you man, girls just donít know a good guy when they see one. Like me for example (squeezes chocolate syrup straight into his mouth).

Jesse: Girls like that just piss me off. She had no problem making me open doors for her and pay for her and shit, but she does have a problem with going on a second date. Fucking A.

Howard: Well, Iíd love to wallow in your self-pity for a while longer, but I have head out. Marathonís tomorrow. Just remember... there is such a thing as fate, from girls to traffic lights to marathons. But fate can only take you so far. You have to do the rest yourself.


Jesse: Shit, I canít believe youíre graduating, man. Iím going to really miss you.

Howard: You know, if we hadnít already thoroughly cleared your heterosexuality, I would be a little nervous right now.

Jesse: Dude, youíve always been my mentor. I mean, whoís going to teach me about the world when youíre gone?

Howard: Look, IĎm not a mother, as you well know. But I can leave you with the words of one of Americaís greatest mothers, Jude Cleaver. The immortal words she said Iíll always remember. ďWard, werenít you a little hard on the beaver last night?Ē.

(Howard and Jesse hug as lights go down)


"Howard's Final Skit" debuted April 19, 2002.

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