|"WILSON'S WORLD"||SHOW #A568||MIMEO DRAFT||15.||I/2|
INT. COFFEE HOUSE - A LITTLE LATER
(WILSON IS BEHIND AN AFRICAN TRIBAL SHIELD)
. . . I had been living with the Mara Masai tribe for six months, but had been unable to engage the aged chief in conversation. When I had all but given up hope, he summoned me to his deathbed, and whispered the words I'll never forget -- 'Hidy-ho, neighbor.,
So that's where he got it.
I thought I knew everything about Wilson.
See? If you'd gone to the Pistons game, you never would've known that.
I've got to admit, Wilson's doing a great job. Not to take anything away from Ramblin' Andy and his nose pickin, song.
(AND WE;) DISSOLVE
|"WILSON'S WORLD"||SHOW #A568||MIMEO DRAFT||16. I/3|
INT. KITCHEN/FAMILY ROOM - SATURDAY MORNING (DAY 3)
(Tim, Jill, Brad, Randy, Mark, Wilson)
(RANDY IS EATING BREAKFAST. TIM IS MIXING INGREDIENTS IN A BOWL. MARK ENTERS)
Today's the big Weird Food Cook-off at Tool Time. Who wants to try my garlic tuna with bananas?
I'd rather eat mulch.
Then you'll love my lemongrass chili pudding.
(JILL ENTERS WITH THE NEWSPAPER)
I got the paper.
(TIM LOOKS AT THE BACK OF THE NEWSPAPER)
Something big happen in the news?
No, a sale on needle-nose pliers.
(JILL THUMBS THROUGH THE PAPER)
|"WILSON'S WORLD"||SHOW #A568||MIMEO DRAFT||17. I/3|
Look, there's a review of the show last night. (READING) 'Performing Arts Festival Opens At Campus Cafe. It was a capacity crowd, and excitement filled the air. Until Elzina Harris took the stage with her poem, "Die, die, die."*
After this review, her poetry career is going to be dead, dead, dead.
Not according to this critic. (READING) 'The excitement turned to awe and reverence for this gifted, young poetess.'
What was in his coffee?
Wait till you hear what he says about the bag dancers. 'The best fabric choreography I've seen anywhere, bar none.'
|"WILSON'S WORLD"||SHOW #A568||MIMEO DRAFT||18. I/3|
He couldn't have liked Yodel Boy.
'Brilliant. His easygoing charm was infectious.'
If he likes that, he's got to think Wilson's a genius.
'The only low point of the evening was the meaningless meandering of a pompous performance artist named Wilson.'
You've got to be kidding.
It gets worse. 'The presumably extraordinary events described in this monologue rang false on every level. They were the words of a man completely out of touch with reality.' (MORE)