Phil & Rosco Dress Up

It’s Halloween and a costume party is kicking off.  The room is filled with a priest, a clown, gum stuck under a chair, a missing sock, a sexy nurse, a civil war medic, Lenin, Spiderman, etc.  Everybody is having a good time.  Among the people stands Phil, dressed as the back of a horse from a two-man horse costume.  He is talking to a woman dressed as a zombie.

ZOMBIE GIRL:  So you’re supposed to be a horse’s ass, right?
PHIL: (sighing) No.  My friend is supposed to be here as the front of the horse.  He said he would meet me here, but I’ve been waiting for twenty minutes.  I’m starting to look like –
ZOMBIE GIRL:  A horse’s ass?

Rosco busts into the party, panting from running because of his lateness.  Yet he too is wearing the rear end  portion of a horse costume.  He grabs a beer from a cooler and walks up to Phil.

ROSCO:  Hey buddy.  Sorry I’m late.
PHIL:  Ros, what the hell are you doing?
ROSCO:  Having a beer after I ran ten blocks to get here.  I know I said I’d be here sooner, but there’s like no parking spaces around this neighborhood.  I parked down on Adams and Vermont and then just booked it here.  I certainly got some strange looks, even for Halloween.  You’d think for a horse costume they would make it easier to run in.  But at least I didn’t have to worrying about what to do with the head . . .
Rosco finally notices which end of the horse Phil is wearing.
ROSCO:  Why are you wearing the end?
PHIL:  Because I said I would be the end so you would get to be the head.
ROSCO:  What are you talking about?  I was going as the horse-butt because I made you shave your head last year so you could be Lex Luthor to my Superman.
PHIL:  Why didn’t you tell me that earlier?
ROSCO:  I wanted it to be a surprise!  Why did you think that I’d screw you out of the cool part of the costume?
PHIL:  Because you’ve been screwing me out of the good costumes for fifteen years!
ROSCO:  Which was why I was gonna be the better man and let you take the lead.
PHIL:  You should have told me!
ROSCO:  You should have trusted me!
PHIL:  (turning to Zombie Girl)  Can you believe this guy?
ZOMBIE GIRL:  (giggling)  You both seem like asses to me.
ROSCO:  (scoffing)  It’s like there’s nothing you can do about that joke. It’s coming, and you just have to stand there.
PHIL:  But she’s right!  We’re just two losers who can’t coordinate now.
ROSCO: (putting his beer down)  Maybe not.  I have an idea.

Rosco edges towards Phil, who just stands there eying Rosco with suspicion.  Rosco slowly hugs Phil, bringing the edges of the costumes together so they look like a horse made out of rear sections.  They stand there, shifting slightly.

ROSCO:  (turning slightly so his tail is pointing at Zombie Girl)  Well?  Do we look cool?
ZOMBIE GIRL:  You look like an abomination.
ROSCO:  We can work with that!

Phil pushes Rosco away.

PHIL:  Get away from me.

Phil storms out of the party.  Rosco leaves in the other direction.  The Zombie Girl stands by herself.  Rosco comes back in.  

ROSCO:  You’re a cute zombie.  Don’t go anywhere.  I’ll be back in a moment.

He finishes his beer in as few gulps as possible, and then leaves.

20 MINUTES LATER

Rosco, dressed as the front half of the horse now, is back as the party and talking with Zombie Girl.  His arms are poking out of the costume, holding another beer.

ROSCO:  – see now I’m just a fucked up centaur.
PHIL: (from the front door)  YOU SON OF A BITCH!

Phil has also returned to the party and is also now dressed like the front of the horse.

ROSCO:  You’ve got to be kidding me.

Phil begins to scream.  Rosco pours the rest of the beer in his costume’s mouth, throws the beer to the ground, and also begins to scream.  They run towards each other and start to fist fight, punching each other in the costume heads.  Everybody at the party starts taking pictures of the two fighting.

20 MINUTES LATER

Phil and Rosco sit on the curb in front of the house.  They each drink a beer while they look at photos on Rosco’s phone of the two of them fighting.

PHIL:  I told you people would get a kick of it.

Phil and Rosco Discuss the Culinary Arts

Phil and Rosco are in the car.  They are drunk, but somehow driving safely.  

PHIL:  Is there any bar in this town that we’re not banned from?  This is a bustling city; there should be new ones popping up all over the place.

ROSCO:  I know.  We have to wait until the school year ends.

Pause.

PHIL:  What?

ROSCO:  Think about it –  a bunch of college kids, just graduated, think they’re all the shit and looking to start their own bar because they know how to run it better.

PHIL: (chuckles) Because they’re tired of paying high prices for watered drinks on club night.  Idiots.

ROSCO:  Exactly.  Fools don’t know that Tuesday is the day to go drinking.

PHIL:  Why do I feel like we’re in a Quentin Tarantino film?

ROSCO:  (pointing) Ooooo!  Let’s get Little Ceasar’s!

FIVE MINUTES LATER

Phil and Rosco are now eating a pizza and breadsticks.  Rosco is dipping breadsticks in a tiny plastic cup of marinara sauce and having difficulty because the car is bumping around.

ROSCO:  I still don’t get it.

PHIL:  Two guys in a car talking about food.  Straight out of Pulp Fiction.

Rosco spills marinara on his shirt.

ROSCO:   Dammit, they need to get rid of these little plastic cups.  They need to give us some professional shit.

PHIL:  Huh?

ROSCO:  You know, those little ceramic dishes that you always see on the Food Network filled with onion soup or something.

PHIL:  You mean bowls?

ROSCO:  No, not bowls.  They have a more –

PHIL:  Not bowls?

ROSCO:  No!  Not bowls.  They have a more exact name, a more specific name.

PHIL:  A scientific name for a bowl?

ROSCO:  Why are you dumber than me when you’re drunk?

PHIL:  Shhhhh!  Don’t say that while I’m driving, you’ll jinx us.

ROSCO:   Oh please, like a cop is going to pull us over in this part of town.

A police car flashes its lights and whoops its siren.  Phil pulls the car over, and looks at Rosco.

PHIL:  You son of a bitch.

One hour later.  Phil and Rosco are in jail, being kept in separate cells.  Each of their arms are hanging out of the bars.  Pause.

PHIL:  Ramekins?

Rosco’s clenches one of his hands in a triumphant fist.

ROSCO:  YES!

Phil & Rosco Glance Into History

Phil and Rosco sit in a living room.  Phil is reading a newspaper, while Rosco is setting up the board game Mousetrap.

PHIL: Hmmm, well what do you know?  Apparently, George Washington borrowed two books from a New York Library and never returned them.

ROSCO:  Really?

PHIL:  Yeah.  In 1789, which is the year he became president, he borrowed “Law of Nations,” a dissertation on international relations, and a volume of debate transcripts from Britain’s House of Commons, and never returned them.

ROSCO:  Wow.

PHIL:  He didn’t even sign his name.  Just put down “President”.

Silence.

PHIL:  I don’t know how to feel about this.

ROSCO:  Well if the sonofabitch became the first president of America that year, he probably thought he could do whatever the fuck he wanted.  Still, he was so honorable or whatever, that all he could manage to do was not return some free books.

PHIL:  I wonder if he felt guilty afterwards.

ROSCO:  (in a low gruff voice) You know what, Martha? I ain’t fuckin returning these.  (in a high-pitched voice) I don’t know George – (in a low gruff voice) No, fuck it. I’m the President; the library can suck my dick.

PHIL:  I think his behavior set the bar pretty low for those to follow.

ROSCO:  I think this has been a big fucking government secret.  Someone definitely lost their job and/or life over letting this little factoid slip out to the public.

PHIL: (chuckling) National Treasure 3: The Lost Tomes of GW

ROSCO:  And the BIGGER secret is that presidents have been taking books ever since then, and that is how the Library of Congress really started.

Pause.  Phil slowly puts down his paper, wide-eyed.

PHIL: (softly)  Oh shit . . .that makes intuitive sense.

ROSCO: We’re through the looking glass, Phil.  We need to watch our backs.

They each tentatively look around the room, waiting to see if something happens.  When nothing does, they go back to what they were doing.  Pause.

ROSCO:  I bet all they were looking for was porn.

PHIL: For sure.

“I’m president; the library can suck my dick.”

Phil and Rosco Discover the Meaning of True Love

Phil and his wife are having dinner out with Rosco and his new girlfriend Belinda.  They are all at a fancy restaurant, in nice clothing, chatting over wine.

PHIL’S WIFE: (laughing)  It’s so great to get out on the town.  It’s hard to get Phil out of the house these days.

PHIL: I’m right here.

BELINDA: We’re out all the time, but it’s always to crazy and strange places.  I find it relaxing just to sit down and eat a simple dinner with this one.

She gestures to Rosco, who is stuffing leftover appetizer bread into his jacket pockets.

ROSCO: I enjoy the fast lane, what can I say?

PHIL’S WIFE:  So how long have you two been seeing each other?

BELINDA:  About seven months now.

ROSCO:  Six.  Seven months ago I was still stuck in that jail cell in Tijuana.

PHIL:  What’d they lock you up for again?

ROSCO:  Something having to do with trying to steal a bunch of chickens.  I honestly don’t remember though.

PHIL’S WIFE:  I’m surprised we haven’t met until now.  Ros usually brings all of his friends by our house the moment he meets them.

ROSCO:  Yeah, I had to twist his arm to set this up.  Although, to tell you the truth, I feel like I know Phil already with as much as Ros talks about him.

PHIL’S WIFE: (sighing) Yeah, these two are pretty inseparable.

BELINDA: I was beginning to think he was hiding me from Phil.

Phil and Rosco start laughing.

PHIL:  That’s preposterous; you’re lovely.

ROSCO:  I told him so.

PHIL’S WIFE: He was probably hiding Phil from you.

PHIL: That sounds more plausible.

PHIL’S WIFE: They’re very protective of each other.

BELINDA: I guess.

ROSCO:  We’ve been building on this friendship for several years now.  It’s like taking care of a car you built from scratch.

BELINDA: When did you two meet each other?

PHIL:  In college.  We roomed together for a year.

BELINDA: I can imagine what kind of crazy parties went on in that apartment.

PHIL:  Actually, we never had a party in that room.

PHIL’S WIFE: Really?

ROSCO:  Yeah.  We didn’t even really start drinking together until a couple of years later.

PHIL’S WIFE:  I never knew that . . .

ROSCO:  Yeah, I wasn’t much of a drinker until this guy came along.  Frankly, he was one suave shrug away from getting me totally wasted that year we lived together.

PHIL:  Really?

ROSCO:  Yeah.

PHIL: Now you tell me.

ROSCO:  Well, I never thought it was such a big deal.  One of the reasons I never drank before then was because I never had a good enough reason to drink.

PHIL:  Yeah.  If I’m honest, I felt the same way back then.

They both stop eating and look at each other.  Silence.

ROSCO:  Phil?

PHIL:  Ros?

Rosco reaches across the table, Phil extends his arm, and they grasp each other’s forearms as if they were knights greeting each other on the battlefield.

ROSCO: You give me a reason to drink.

Phil gasps.

PHIL: I . . . I’ve waited so long to hear that.

They share a moment. 

ROSCO:  WAITER!

A waiter appears.

ROSCO:  Two mugs of whiskey for the gentleman and I/

WAITER: Would you like a single or –

ROSCO:  Two MUGS of whiskey, pronto!

The waiter hurries off.  Phil’s Wife and Belinda simply sit and stare at the full grown men, who now have tears in their eyes.

BELINDA: Ros?

PHIL’S WIFE:  Shhh.  It’s best not to disturb them when they are in their “Bro-mance” Mode.

PHIL:  (not taking his eyes from Rosco) CURB THY TONGUE WHEN SPEAKING OF OUR LOVE, WENCH!

ROSCO: Yeah!

A waiter appears with two mugs.  Phil and Rosco each take one.  They look at each other, clink their mugs together, and then raise them high above their heads.  Silence.

PHIL & ROSCO: May we never go to hell, but always be on our way!

They quickly drink the mugs of whiskey in one go.  They slam down the mugs, share one final moment together, and then go back to eating their meal as if nothing happened.

BELINDA: What just happened?

ROSCO: Magic.

PHIL: (to his wife) You’re going to have to drive home.

PHIL’S WIFE: You don’t say . . .

ROSCO: Yeah, we have about fifteen minutes before we turn into blithering idiots.

PHIL’S WIFE:  I’ll get the check.

BELINDA:  That was crazy.

PHIL:  Not really, but you might want to finish your meal quickly.

They all eat.

ROSCO:  Wait . . . so are we, like, married now?

Phil & Rosco On The Town

THE MID-90’S

Phil and Rosco are in line at a club.  They get to the front of the line, where the bouncer slowly looks at each one, and then shakes his head.

BOUNCER: Not on your lives.

The bouncer points a finger back towards the parking lot, and Phil and Rosco leave with their heads down.

PHIL:  Stupid guy.

ROSCO:  Yeah?  He must have something against unattractive, pale men awkwardly dancing next to hot young girls.

PHIL:  Yeah, it sounds a lot creepier than it actually is.

They walk in silence.  Then Rosco stops walking.

ROSCO:  We could always try to rush in.

PHIL:  What?

ROSCO:  There’s a lot of people, a lot going on, I say we just try to jump through when the guy has his back turned.

PHIL:  I don’t know . . .

ROSCO:  Come on.  If we get caught, just act like we thought we would at least try and that we’re sorry.  They’ll probably only tell us to go away again.  What’s the worst that could happen?

They start to walk back towards the club.

9 HOURS LATER

Phil and Rosco stand in the middle of a desert.  Rosco is completely naked, and Phil has been tarred and feathered.  Chained to Rosco’s ankle is a broken sink that was pulled out of a wall.  A truck drives away, leaving Phil and Rosco standing in the dust.  They watch it until it has gone past the horizon.

ROSCO:  Out of all the things that could have happened, I was not expecting this outcome in the slightest.

Phil coughs and feathers come out of his mouth.

ROSCO:  You said it.  Well, let’s go home.

They start to walk in the direction the truck went.

TODAY

Phil is reading a newspaper, sitting on his couch.  His wife stands behind him, dressed up to go dancing.  Phil, however, is in his pjs.

PHIL:  And that’s why I don’t dance anymore.

Phil and Rosco Eat Out

A diner in a small town sits quiet.  People eat their lunch and servers bring out food.  Everything is calm and normal, and Phil and Rosco sit in a booth near the corner.  Suddenly, Phil knocks his glass off the table and starts screaming.

PHIL:  Fuck you!  Fuck you and anyone who looks like you!

ROSCO:  Phil –

Phil throws some mashed potatoes in Rosco’s face.

PHIL:  Suck my ass!

ROSCO: Hold on now –

PHIL: No!  This is the last fucking straw, you piece of shit!  You sleep with my wife, you run over my dog, and you steal the funnies from my Sunday paper.  I’ve had enough of it!

ROSCO:  Wait –

Phil flips the table, with their half eaten meals still on it, onto the floor ans stands up.

PHIL:  NO!  MAY YOU ROT IN HELL, ROSCOLIAH EDITH WINTERS!  WE’RE DONE!

Phil kicks and mashes some of the food on the floor and then storms out of the restaurant, and Rosco follows him.  The rest of the patrons and servers of the diner just remain frozen in their places as they try to take in the argument that just occurred.

WAITRESS:  Uhhhh, Bobby?  I think we’re going to need a bucket . . .

Outside, Rosco catches up to Phil.  Phil remains to look angry, but doesn’t continue to fight with Rosco.  They walk side by side in silence.

PHIL:  I can’t believe that worked.

ROSCO:  I’ve been telling you for years that it’s one of the best ways to not pay for the meal.

PHIL:  And it’s fun.

ROSCO:  Where did you come up with that name?  Roscoliah?

PHIL: Figured if they searched for us, it would be best to give them a fake name.

ROSCO:  Nice.

PHIL:  You know we can never go back here, right?

ROSCO:  Duh.  The “Flip and Flee” method doesn’t make room for return customers.

A manager of the diner rushes out of the building.

MANAGER:  HEY!!!

Phil and Rosco run away.

Phil & Rosco Dine Fine

Phil and Rosco are sitting down for lunch in a restaurant.  They have just started their meal.  A waiter walks up to them.

WAITER: How is everything?

PHIL:  It’s very good.

Rosco, still chewing, puts a thumb up and then picks up his empty water glass.

WAITER: Fantastic.  Well, just let me know if you need anything.

Rosco raises his water glass, but is still chewing and can’t get the waiter’s attention before he walks away.  Rosco finishes chewing and swallows.

ROSCO:  I wanted more water.

PHIL:  They have guys that come around and fill your glass up.  One’ll come around eventually.

Rosco shrugs, puts down his glass and continues eating.

10 MINUTES LATER

They have gotten halfway through their meal, and yet Rosco’s glass is still empty.

ROSCO:  Honestly, what the fuck?

PHIL: Cool down.  Just flag down the waiter the next time he comes by.

Rosco glares at Phil, then takes a bite of his meal and slowly chews it, scanning the area for the waiter.

TEN MINUTES LATER

Rosco has finished his meal, and is gently stabbing his empty plate with his knife.

ROSCO:  You’d figure someone would come by to at least take the fucking plate away.

PHIL:  Just get anyone’s attention then.

TEN MINUTES LATER

A busboy walks by Rosco, who holds up his glass to get attention, but the busboy just walks on by.  Then a waiter walks by, and Rosco does the same thing, but he is also ignored.  This happens two more times, and Rosco becomes more aggravated each time.

TEN MINUTES LATER

Rosco spots their waiter, helping out new customers and taking their order.  As they are sitting, the waiter is pouring everyone a glass of water.  Rosco grimaces in fury.

ROSCO:  What the fuck?!

PHIL:  Just stand up and get his attention.

The waiter is pleasantly jotting orders down.  Suddenly, as something zooms past his face, coming dangerously close to his face.  He jumps back and yelps a little.  He looks at the wall he was standing next to and sees a knife quivering there, about the height of his face.  Ashen, he looks towards where the knife was thrown.  Their, he finds Rosco, holding up and gently shaking his water glass.  Rosco is smiling as if he hasn’t a care in the world.

PHIL:  (putting down money) Or that.  That’ll work.