C-man

A Screenplay by Ben

The story follows average college student Sergei and his adorably insane roomate Carl around on a series of lovable antics. This is meant to be the first episode of a series.

Sergei Walks through the hallway, walks into living room, sees Carl asleep on Couch in a pool of blood with a samurai sword sticking out of him.

Sergei: Carl!

Carl: What? Looks down at shirt Oh what the s**t is this!?

Sergei: Dude, what the f**k! You’re bleeding all over everything!

Carl: I know I’m bleeding over everything! You think someone’s got this much blood coming out of them and they just think everything’s f*****g fine?

Sergei: Well why the s**t are you bleeding!?

Carl: I don’t know why I’m f*****g bleeding! Ah man, f**k, this was my favorite shirt.

Sergei: How the f**k do you even have this much blood? And how did you spread it so consistently across the carpet?

Carl: Man, I just woke up like this. I’m pretty drunk.

Sergei: How are you even still alive?

Carl: Like, at this exact moment, or just in general?

Sergei: Yes

Carl: Oh like you’ve never gotten drunk and done weird s**t

Sergei: No, I haven’t, first of all, and even if I had I don’t think my first thought would be “why don’t I stab a hole in my chest and draw a giant dick on our wall in blood with the words ‘Carl’s giant penis’ written under it”

Carl: You don’t think it’s actually that big?

Sergei: That was literally too stupid for me to dignify it by chastising you for making a stupid f*****g comment when there is currently a God Damn Samurai Sword sticking out of your f*****g chest. Where the hell did you even get a Samurai sword?

Carl: Wait, I think I’m starting to remember

“1 day earlier” is shown

Sergei: Carl I swear to God if this is another flashback that’s just you making stupid puns in an imaginary comedy club I will literally rip your lungs out through your dick hole

Carl: You mean figuratively?

Sergei: says nothing but just gives Carl a death stare that makes it very clear he doesn’t mean figuratively

Carl: Alright, alright, fine. Here’s how I think it happened

1 day earlier

Carl at a comedy club

Carl: What did the computer do when it got too hot? It opened windows!

No laughter from crowd

Someone in crowd: You suck

Carl: Shut up Mom.

Back in living room, Sergei walks briskly over to Carl

Carl: Wait-wait-wait, that’s the last one, I promise, I’m sorry. If you don’t hurt me I promise I’ll clean up all the blood

Sergei: Of course you have to clean it up! It’s your blood! That you smeared everywhere! All of this is entirely your fault! How the f**k did you even do this?!

Carl: Well, remember how we had that bet for like a year about who could go the longest time without having sex or jerking off even though we were taking those testosterone pills I um found.

Sergei: I’m pretty sure those were just Viagra coated with crack.

Carl: Well, anyway, after I won yesterday, I decided to spend the hundred bucks you gave me trying to get laid, and I even wore that really nice expensive suit we found.

Sergei: Carl, what happened to the suit?

Carl: My suit. That I won from the bet.

Sergei: Carl what the f**k happened to the suit.

Carl: I lost it.

Sergei: What, like, you left it at some girl’s house?

Flashback to Carl in a bar holding the suit in his hand, it’s on fire, and he’s otherwise naked

Carl now

Carl: Sure, let’s go with that.

Sergei: Alright, fine. We just have find whatever skank you hooked up with last night and we find the suit.

Carl: There might be a little bit of a problem there.

Sergei: Carl what s**t did you manage to pull last night that could have made a girl so angry at you that she wouldn’t even return your God Damn clothes?

Carl: Well, I think it might have had something to do me getting stabbed.

Sergei: Oh yeah. How are you still talking to me? I’m pretty sure that thing went through a lung or something. Even if it didn’t, it seems like you should have bled out by now

Carl: Well, here’s what happened

1 day earlier, at the bar. Carl sits naked, when he sees a beautiful woman smile at him

Carl: Hey there beautiful, I hope you don’t mind if I buy you a drink.

Woman: Aren’t you the guy who set his clothes on fire?

Carl: Yeah, pretty impressive wasn’t it

Woman: I think you may be confused about the meaning of the word impressive.

Carl: Well then tell me, what do you think is impressive?

Woman: Are you just trying to get me to have sex with you?

Carl: One hundred percent.

Woman: So, why don’t we just skip the chitchat and head back to my place.

Carl: Really?

Woman: What, you didn’t think I’d go for you?

Carl: No! Why the hell would you want to have sex with me? I’m just some drunk idiot who set his clothes on fire.

Woman: Just when I was worried that you were too attractive.

Carl: You still want to have sex?

Woman: F**k it why not.

Carl: Hey, you sound just like the last 10 girls I hooked up with

Woman: 10?

Carl: Okay, 9

Woman: You think I’m going to believe you convinced 9 other women to have sex with you?

Carl: How about 2… and one of them used to be a guy… and the other one was blind.

Woman: Do you actually want me to have sex with you?

Carl: Honestly? I think your reactions might be better.

Woman: Really?

Carl: F**k no! Please have sex with me; it’s been like a year. At this point I’m about ready to try using lukewarm Ramen noodles

Back to present time

Sergei: eating Ramen noodles these taste unusually salty.

Carl: I think I might need a doctor.

Sergei: Really? Because when I was knifed by muggers I believe your exact words were “walk it off, ya p***y.”

Carl: I don’t remember that, but it sounds like something I would say.

Sergei: I had to get like 30 stitches.

Carl: Only thirty?

Sergei: Carl, until today, the worst injury I’ve ever seen you get was a paper cut from a paper plate.

Carl: We should have gotten real plates.

Sergei We had real plates! There aren’t paper plates anywhere in the house; you would have literally had to go to the store specifically to get paper plates just to use instead of the real plates you explicitly told me you prefer!

Carl: Can we go see a doctor?

Sergei: Yes, we’ll go see a doctor!

Outside

Carl: We’re taking your car.

Sergei: F**k no. I’m not getting all that blood on my new white leather seats. We’re taking your car.

Carl: I thought you might say that, which is why

Carl presses button on his key fob

Black inky substance sprays out of Carl’s windshield, covering the whole car

Sergei struggles to hold back boiling anger

Sergei: [sighs]. Carl if you really wanted to die this badly couldn’t you have just done it in a normal way, without getting me involved.

Carl: You’re probably wondering how I managed to do this

Sergei: I wasn’t, and I think why would be a more apt question, but you’re going to explain it anyway, aren’t you

Carl: Yep

Sergei: Why do I continue to live with you?

Carl: Because you don’t have enough money to afford a place of your own and all your other friends already had roommates and you were the only one desperate enough for a place to stay that you would even pretend to try and put up with me.

Sergei: Just get in the f*****g car.

Carl: Do you think if I poured scotch into my open wound it would disinfect it?

Sergei: You’re paying for new seats

Carl: How did you even afford these seats? I thought you were poor.

Sergei: I wouldn’t say poor.

Carl: I mean you’re like, average college student poor.

Sergei: My mother bought me these seats, after you trashed the previous ones.

Carl: What? How?

Flashback to Carl standing in the bar, totally naked, holding two large car seats, both of which are on fire

Carl: No, you don’t tell me when I’ve had enough, I tell you when I’ve had enough. Get me another shot or I’ll set these car seats on fire!

Present

Sergei: You’re a pyro, Carl

Carl: Only when I’m drunk

Sergei: You’re also an alcoholic. You are literally pouring scotch onto your stab wound right now and no, it isn’t because you think it will disinfect it, which is stupid and not a real thing by the way, it’s because you want to see if putting alcohol directly into your bloodstream will get you drunk!

Several panels of complete silence showing them driving all the way to the hospital

Carl: I put squid ink in my car’s windshield wiper fluid dispensers

Sergei: You have a problem Carl!

Carl: Whatever, I only started drinking when we made that bet and I’ll stop as soon as I get laid.

Sergei: Promise?

Carl: Yes

Sergei: You’re totally serious about this

Carl: Well, in general I try to avoid being serious

Sergei: Carl!

Carl: Okay, fine, yes I’m serious. I’ll stop as soon as I get laid.

Sergei: Okay

Carl: Haha! Joke’s on you, there’s no way anyone would be desperate enough to have sex with me.

Sergei: F**k you, let’s just go see the doctor.

Carl: There he is.

Sergei: Carl, the doctors are inside the hospital. Despite the fact that he’s wearing a lab coat (and nothing else), that’s not a doctor; that’s just some random hobo who hangs out in the hospital parking lot hoping that they throw away syringes. Also I’m pretty sure he lives in that outhouse.

Carl: Do they throw out syringes?

Sergei: No Carl, and I definitely wouldn’t tell you if they did.

Carl: So then how do I know you’re not lying to me?

Sergei: Because… shut up right now you just need to see the doctor

Carl: Are you sure that’s not him?

Sergei: Absolutely.

Carl: I’ll bet you a thousand dollars that guy’s a doctor.

Sergei: Even if you had a thousand dollars, first of all knowing you there’s probably a very good reason I wouldn’t want it and second you sure as hell wouldn’t give it to me. We’d just get back home and you’d come up with some bullshit excuse like “It doesn’t count, I was drunk” or “It doesn’t count, all the blood loss made me delirious”

Carl: Really, that’s the example you’re going to use for a bullshit excuse? I mean, sure, maybe the drunk one is a little stupid, but this much blood loss is a pretty legitimate concern.

Sergei: Which is why you need to see a real doctor and not some junkie hobo in a hospital parking lot!

Carl: Tell you what, if that’s not a real doctor, I’ll give you this sword, but if it is you have to buy me Dennny’s

Sergei: Carl, knowing you that sword probably already has AIDS, but if it will make you go see a real doctor, then fine.

Hobo is suddenly very close to the window

Hobo: So, gentlemen, I take it you’re here to see a doctor? If so I can oblige you. If you don’t believe me I have my medical license right here shows medical license

Sergei: Oh my God d****t.

Carl: Doctor Smitherbutt?

The Doctor: Yes, I don’t know why my parents decided to name me that and frankly I don’t know why they had a child. It’s not even their last name, they had to go to the government office after I was born and spend like a hundred dollars to legally change it. Now why don’t you just step into my office and we can talk about whatever is wrong with your friend here.

Carl: That is a nice office.

Sergei: Carl that’s clearly just a s****y outhouse.

Doctor Smitherbutt: It might look like just an ordinary outhouse, but have you ever seen the show Doctor Who?

Sergei: Are you saying that your outhouse is actually a huge nice office on the inside?

Doctor Smitherbutt: Oh no, I was just asking if you’d seen it.

Sergei: Is yes the answer you’re looking for?

Carl and Doctor Smitherbutt: Ha, nerd!

Carl: So what’s the outhouse for then?

Doctor Smitherbutt: I mostly just use it to store all the illegal drugs the government lets me use their money to buy. You know, for recreational purposes, like sneaking them into someone’s coffee to see how they react when I call the cops on them. Isn’t being a doctor great?

Carl: In all seriousness though, I am losing quite a lot of blood.

Doctor Smitherbutt: Have you tried pouring alcohol on the wound?

Carl: Yeah, but I just couldn’t get drunk from it; I don’t know what I was doing wrong.

Doctor Smitherbutt: Did you use scotch or vodka? Because scotch will just disinfect it

Sergei: Just because of that I’m not buying you Dennny’s.

Carl: Aw, come on, this one wasn’t even my fault. How would you feel if you got stabbed and poured scotch on yourself to disinfect the wound and then your friend refused to buy you some delicious pancakes because you were right about that being the right thing to do

Sergei: Carl, you don’t even actually want to eat at Dennny’s. You just want to sit there for an hour making sexual jokes about their “Grand Slam” breakfast and then pass out drunk like everyone else at a Dennny’s at 3 in the morning is trying not to do. Also you just f*****g admitted that you did it to get drunk not to disinfect it.

Doctor Smitherbutt: Actually, he never said that. Now, Mr. Sergei was it? What seems to be the trouble with you today.

Sergei: Wait, how did you know my name? And why could you possibly think the trouble is with me?

Doctor Smitherbutt: I’m a psychic, to answer both questions

Sergei: Seriously? And you didn’t notice that Carl has a giant f*****g samurai sword sticking out of his chest?

Doctor Smitherbutt: Oh no, he’ll be fine.

Carl: I usually am.

Sergei: Alright then. You see, I’ve been having this pain in my neck. It all started about a year and a half ago, when it became my roommate and decided that instead of just getting drunk and yelling at seagulls to stop taking our jobs, he was just going to hang around me all the time and completely take advantage of the fact that there was financially nothing I could do to force him get his drunk pyro a*s out of my face for one f*****g minute both figuratively and, unfortunately, literally

Carl: You sound like you’re describing a person, but I can’t figure out who it might be.

Doctor Smitherbutt: Have you tried acupuncture? That might take care of your neck pain.

Sergei: I have no words to describe the level of sheer anger and disbelief I feel towards you two.

Doctor Smitherbutt: Well, it seems to me like the only reasonable solution here is for all three of us to get high

Carl: See Sergei, I told you he would know what to do.

Sergei: Dead f*****g silent

Sergei: Okay.

Carl: Really? I was sure you would say something to end our fun like ‘oh, it’s illegal’ or ‘oh that doesn’t sound like something a doctor should prescribe’ or ‘oh, don’t put your dick in there Carl, don’t you remember what happened last time’

Sergei: Maybe if I feed you enough drugs you’ll get so high that you’ll realize your own diagnosable insanity and I’ll get like 30 seconds of you not actively trying to kill one or more of us.

Doctor Smitherbutt: Sounds good to me. Injects something into Carl

Carl collapses on the ground having a seizure

Sergei: Hey look, it worked.

Doctor Smitherbutt: Quick question: how to you spell Heroine?

Sergei: Not the same way you spell Cyanide!

Doctor Smitherbutt: Aw nuts.

Sergei: How do you even make that mistake?!

Doctor Smitherbutt: Don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll be fine, or my name isn’t Jogothy Racist Smitherbutt

Sergei: Is… Is that your name?

Doctor Smitherbutt: Not if he isn’t fine.

Carl: Hey, I didn’t know that was what happened when you took cyanide. I should have tried this before

Sergei: Yes, you really should have.

Sergei (next shot): More importantly though, how the f**k did all of this still not kill you?

Carl: What, you think this is my first time doing something like this

Sergei: I hate you for the fact that you might genuinely be serious.

Doctor Smitherbutt: I might be able to explain it.

Carl: Okay, do it.

Doctor Smitherbutt: No, not me, I, My pet bird. I, Jogothy Smitherbutt, named my pet bird I for comedic effect

Sergei: Let me just cut everything off right here before we spend an unfortunate and surprising amount of time gratifying a probably homeless and definitely insane junkie’s irrational need to tell stupid puns to people at what somehow, impossibly, is the literal worst possible time and yet still somehow not a situation that will create any lasting problems.

Carl: Wait, are you talking about him or me?

I: Who knows. I mean I do, but besides that.

Bird flies away, also a tiny squirrel and a small cat run out of the outhouse and take off

Doctor Smitherbutt: Oh no, I got out. Quick he’s getting away. Grab him.

Sergei: You named your animals I, he, and him.

Doctor Smitherbutt: Yes

Sergei: Are you proud of yourself

Doctor Smitherbutt: Yes

Sergei: And neither you nor your bird actually has any idea why Carl is still alive

Doctor Smitherbutt: Nope

Sergei: So this whole thing was a big f*****g waste of time

Doctor Smitherbutt: That is correct, yes.

Carl: Maybe I can help figure that one out

Sergei: Carl, I swear to God if you knew this whole time what was wrong and how to fix it. I will figuratively emasculate you with a spork

Doctor Smitherbutt: That’s… oddly specific

Carl: Hey, I never said I didn’t know. I don’t even think I implied it.

Sergei: Yes you did

I (in the distance): No he didn’t

Doctor Smitherbutt: I did though

Sergei: Only one who doesn’t have a learning disability speaking; now Carl, explain

Carl: Well I was trying to tell you but then you interrupted my story to complain about your food.

Sergei: You came in my ramen and set your clothes on fire

Doctor Smitherbutt: Oh that was you?

Carl: I know, it was awesome.

Doctor Smitherbutt: Ah, I’ve always wanted to do that

Carl: Yeah, but anyway, that was just part of the story. I was gonna tell you where I got this sweet a*s sword

In the memory, back at the mystery woman from the previous flashback’s apartment

Woman: So, why couldn’t we just go back to your place?

Carl (wearing the burnt remains of the suit jacket): Cause my stupid roommate messed up the whole place

Present time

Sergei: I cleaned it

Carl: But now I can’t find anything

Sergei: That was true before

Doctor Smitherbutt: Guys, guys: you’re both wrong. Now continue

Back in the memory

Woman: So, tell you what. Why don’t I go destroy that jacket that smells like pig’s a*s marinated in expired tiger cum, and you go take a shower in deodorant, and maybe when I get back I’ll actually consider letting you have sex with me

Carl: But what about my natural musk

Woman: Using slices of pizza instead of bedsheets for forty consecutive nights and only bathing once a week is not the same thing as a natural musk, which isn’t even a thing that humans have

Carl: Is it not? Also, damn, you’ve discovered my secret.

Woman: Alright, let’s get this thirty thousand dollar jacket off you

Carl: Jesus f**k, thirty thousand dollars?!

Woman: Well I mean I assume

Carl: And you wanted me to just give you the jacket?

Woman: For sex, yes, that was the deal

Carl: Now I’m sure my 14 year old, 15 year old, 16 year old, 17 year old, 18 year old, and current self would want to punch me in the balls so hard they’d just kinda crawl up inside to hide for saying this, but sex with you is not worth that much to me.

Woman: Not worth the suit you just set on fire

Carl: Well I didn’t know it was worth thirty f*****g thousand dollars

Woman: Give or take. So, there’s no way you’ll give it to me?

Carl: Yeah, no.

Woman: Well, time for plan B then

Carl: But we haven’t even had sex yet

Woman produces and stabs Carl with a syringe

Present

Sergei: So when you said it was your first time getting injected with cyanide

Doctor Smitherbutt: Well, he implied it

Sergei: Shut up your parents didn’t love you. Anyway, was it cyanide in that syringe?

Carl: F**k if I know

Doctor Smitherbutt: Like, literally?

Carl: God I hope so

Sergei: Carl, you’re straight and also in the middle of telling us why you have a Samurai sword sticking out of the middle of your f*****g chest that somehow has still not f*****g killed you!

Carl: Am I though?

Sergei: Carl!

Carl: Fine, fine. So here’s what happened next

Back in flashback, Carl now has a syringe in his arm

Carl: So was that like, some kind of awkward a*s foreplay? Cause I’m like, kind of feeling it right now. Like, maybe thirty percent chub

Woman: What the f**k? That was cyanide

Present

Carl: Shut up

Flashback

Woman: To ask the same question your roommate must ask you every time he sees your stupid a*s face, how are you not dead?

Carl: Do you even inject cyanide? I thought you had to eat it for it to do anything. And why would someone eat cyanide? S**t tastes like someone pissed on a bag of peanuts.

Woman: How could you possibly know that?

Carl: No comment

Woman: Well, since the injectable cyanide syringe didn’t work, I guess I’ll just have to improvise

Back to present day

Carl: So then she pulled out a samurai sword from her couch and stabbed me. I kinda blacked out after that. When I woke up the jacket was gone.

Sergei: So then how the hell did you graffiti our walls

Carl: What part of I blacked out did you not understand.

Doctor Smitherbutt: Well, that leaves us with two questions. First, why did she have a pre-prepared cyanide compound syringe waiting for you? It seems unlikely that she would just happen to meet someone wearing a suit jacket she just happens to know is worth 30k, and who also just happened to go for her.

Sergei: When did you become competent?

Carl: Come on, that was mean

Sergei: I know, I’m sorry. I’ve been under a lot of stress lately.

Carl: Do you want to talk about it?

Sergei: Not with the source of it. And yeah, it does seem oddly suspicious that everything would just fall into place like that.

Carl: Maybe it had something to do with the golden computer chips in the jacket pockets?

Sergei: And you couldn’t have mentioned those earlier?

Carl: Well sorrrrry for just assuming that maybe you had given the suit at least a quick once over before you spent a year of your life in agony, just wanting the bet to be over so you could wear a sweet as suit and masturbate.

moment of silence

Sergei: Yeah, so anyway, the second and far more important question is, why in the s**t are you not dead yet?

Carl: Oh yeah that. I think it’s the scotch

Sergei: Carl

Carl: Yes?

Sergei punches Carl in the face

Sergei: That was the f*****g answer you were building up to! You spend this whole time convincing me not to worry, that everything’s going to be fine, and you’re not dying, and you have the solution as to why, and that whole time the answer was the F*****G SCOTCH!

Doctor Smitherbutt: If I may interject, Carl might not be entirely wrong.

Sergei: Your medical license is fake.

Doctor Smitherbutt: five judges and 12 lawsuits claiming that exact thing would beg to differ

Carl: Jeez have you really been sued 12 times?

Doctor Smitherbutt: Got a free cupcake for that last one. Anyway, it seems the combination of the scotch, massive amounts of sexual hormones, and the cyanide concoction has made you temporarily immune to death.

Carl: Wait so I’m immortal?

Sergei: You’re telling me even if I was serious about killing this idiot I can’t now?

Doctor Smitherbutt: Well, emphasis on temporarily. If the chemical balance in your body changes too radically, your ruptured lung, aorta, and stomach, as well as severe anemia, cyanide poisoning, and just a general inability to function as a competent human would probably possibly definitely kill you.

Sergei: So, about how long does he have?

Doctor Smitherbutt: I don’t know… twelve minutes. Unless he just happens to have been injected with cyanide, poured enough scotch directly into his bloodstream to kill a sizable beaver, and most importantly, not ejaculated, all since last night

Carl: Wait, how did you calculate 12 minutes without taking any measurements

Sergei: Carl, we have more important things to worry about

Carl: Pretty sure we don’t

Doctor Smitherbutt: I’m pretty high right now

Sergei: Really, I had no idea

I (he’s flown back now): Sarcasm

Carl: Oh s**t, catch that bird

Sergei: Carl, we are not keeping that bird

Carl: F**k you you’re not my dad

Sergei: Your dad was a crack addict whose last words to you were God I hate Chipottle

Doctor Smitherbutt: You know you’ll regret it later, but those burritos are just so good.

Carl: Hey, you really are a psychic!