Scene One: The Mothers all sit watching TV.

Script and Stills bu Neville Cole
MOTHER 1: Ssshhh! Quiet everyone! The show’s about to start. 
MOTHER 2: I always knew my boy would be on tv! 
MOTHER 3: I always knew my boy was a boy…you know, because of his thing.
MOTHER 4: Yes, that’s a dead give away. 
MOTHER 1: Ssshhh! Something’s about to happen. (PAUSE) It looked like something was about to happen. 
MOTHER 2: I certainly hope they don’t embarrass us… 
MOTHER 1: Oh no! I told my boy. No jokes about mothers and no jokes about debilitating diseases. People just don’t find those things funny. 
MOTHER 2: Tourette’s Syndrome is not funny. 
MOTHER 3: Dirty ass wipe snot bugger! 
MOTHER 2: What? 
MOTHER 3: No. Not funny at all…and neither is narcolepsy. 
MOTHER 2: What? 
MOTHER 3 HAS FALLEN ASLEEP. 
MOTHER 4: I’m sure they won’t have any of that in the show. 

'Em some do have mothers

Hare today, goon tomorrow.

MOTHER 4: I think they should do some jokes about those people in the airports. 
MOTHER 2: …with the shaved heads and nose rings and tambourines? 
MOTHER 4: No. those people who put your luggage in the airplane. What are they called? 
MOTHER 1: Oh, they better not make fun of baggage handlers. Those people are fanatics! 
MOTHER 2: Cysts! 
MOTHER 1: What?    
MOTHER 2: Cysts and tumors! Cysts and tumors are not funny! 
MOTHER 1: We’re finished with diseases. 
MOTHER 2: Oh. Sorry. 
MOTHER 3: Puke. 
MOTHER 2: What? 
MOTHER 3: Puke is a very unfunny word. 
MOTHER 2: Oh, no… Not funny at all and neither is nipple. 
MOTHER 4: …nor scrotum, bulbous, buttcheek, nor knockers… 
MOTHER 3: …nor bedpan, booger, bog, nor fisherman…  
MOTHER 2: Fisherman isn’t a funny word at all.  
MOTHER 3: Exactly my point! 
MOTHER 1: Our sons are all good boys. I don’t think we have a thing to worry about.  
MOTHER 2:  Just as long as they never, ever, ever, ever, ever do anything involving full frontal nudity. 
CUT TO: TV SCREEN. SON 2 WALKS ONSCREEN COMPLETELY NAKED AND TRIES DESPERATELY TO TURN FULL FRONTAL TO THE CAMERA WHICH ALWAYS MOVES AT THE LAST MOMENT TO AN ANGLE WHICH OBSCURES THE OBJECT OF MOST INTEREST. 
CUT TO: LIVING ROOM. 
MOTHER 2: Phew! That was close. Oh! Look some thing is finally about to happen! 
CUT TO: THE SONS, AS MOTHERS, PUTTING ON MAKE-UP IN DRESSING ROOM. Son 1 is fluffing hair. Son 2 is applying lipstick. Son 3 is plucking nose hairs. Son 4 hammers a nail into her head – she starts to bleed. 
MOTHER 4: Oh no! I don’t like the looks of this! 
MOTHER 1: I told my son… no jokes about mothers! 
CUT TO: SON 4 notices blood and faints. 
MOTHER 1: This is a terrible show. What else is on? 
MOTHER 2 CHANGES CHANNEL. 
CUT TO: THREE SONS, AS MOTHERS, DRAGGING SON 4/MOTHER 4 OUT OF HOUSE AND STUFFING HIM/HER INTO AN LITTLE OLD CAR. 
CUT TO: DRIVING OFF DOWN THE STREET ALL TALKING AND LAUGHING. SON 4 IS SLUMPED BY WINDOW. 
CUT TO: DRIVING INTO A MEDICAL CENTER TRYING TO FIND OFFICE. ALL YELLING AND POINTING. 
CUT TO DOCTORS OFFICE. DOCTOR LOOKS AT PATIENT. TAKES HER PULSE. TURNS PATIENT OVER. BLOWS ON A RECTAL THERMOMETER. WE HEAR A SQUEAKING SOUND AS THE THERMOMETER IS INSERTED. 
CUT TO SHOTS OF ALL SONS, AS MOTHERS, WAITING ANXIOUSLY… TRYING NOT TO LOOK. 

CUT TO DOCTOR LOOKING AT WATCH. A BEEPING SOUND. WE HEAR A POPPING SOUND AS THE THERMOMETER IS REMOVED. DOCTOR SAYS “AH HA!” PASSES AROUND THERMOMETER WHICH EACH HOLDS GINGERLY AND PASSES ON CONFUSED. DOCTOR GOES TO BAG, PULLS OUT VARIOUS TOOLS OF THE TRADE – FOLLOWED BY A HAMMER. HE TRIES TO PULL OUT THE NAIL UNSUCCESSFULLY. PUTS KNEE ON PATIENT. STILL NO SUCCESS. ENLISTS HELP OF CAST. THEY ALL PUSH, PULL AND STRAIN – SQUEAKING SOUND THEN POP. PATIENT SITS UP QUICKLY.
 
SON 4: (DRESSED AS MOTHER 4) Oh my…I feel like a million bucks 
DOCTOR: That’s good, because you now owe me a million bucks! 
CUT TO: LIVING ROOM.  MOTHERS ALL LAUGHING HYSTERICALLY. 
MOTHER 1: That’s what people want. Good, clean, fun. 
MOTHER 4: …and sing-alongs. 
MOTHER 3: Ooohhh… Sing-alongs are lovely… snatchcrapcrackfartspew! (SHE FALLS ASLEEP AGAIN) 
MOTHER 1: I think I need to go and powder my nose. 

CUT TO MOTHER 1 entering bathroom. She looks around at the various Knick-Knacks, soaps, potpourris, etc. She inspects them intently with great disdain. She opens the medicine cabinet and starts peeking at labels on the jars. We hear her muttering tsk-tsk, etc. and randomly sampling pills. She starts rifling through the vanity and draws inspecting everything. 
MOTHER 2: Are you alright in there, dear? 
CUT TO BATHROOM DOOR FROM OUTSIDE – WE HEAR A TOILET FLUSHING FOLLOWED BY AIR FRESHENER SPRAYING. 
MOTHER 1: Oh yes, I’m fine. Don’t you worry about me. 
CUT TO: INSIDE BATHROOM. MORE AND MORE AND MORE AIR FRESHENER SPRAYED INTO EVERY CONCIEVABLE NOOK AND CRANNY. 
CUT TO: OUTSIDE. MORE SPRAYING. DOOR OPENS MOTHER 1 WALKS OUT SURROUNDED BY A HUGE PLUME OF AIR FRESHIONER. 
CUT TO: MOTHER 1 REENTERING LIVING ROOM. 
MOTHER 1: Have I missed anything? 
MOTHER 2: No. They’re just sitting there again.. 
MOTHER 4: I just hope they don’t stoop to toilet humor… 
MOTHER 1: No. Or dress up in women’s clothing… 
MOTHER 2: Oh, they would do that! That’s disgusting! Is Laurence Welk on, by any chance? 
MOTHER 3: Oh, I do love Laurence Welk. 
MOTHER 4: He can park his accordion under my bed anytime… 
MOTHER 1: I do believe he’s dead, dear. 
MOTHER 4: Oh, I don’t mind about all that! 
MOTHER 2: Ssshhh! I think something is happening. 
MOTHER 3: dirtywipesnot 

The End