Archive for April, 2012

EVIDENCE ITEM 2a “Transcript of Phone Message Left by Louie”.

April 29, 2012 1 comment

Message Begins

Hey, it’s me again. I don’t mean to keep calling but I’m just worried about you, that’s all. I’m trying not to be that creepy guy that just can’t take a hint. God, I hope that’s not how you think of me. I just want to talk to you, that’s all.

I was really looking forward to your visit and when you didn’t show, I have to admit, it hurt a little. I mean I had all of your favorite dishes ready to go and everything, so yeah.

God this is awkward, I’m normally not like this but I felt like we had a real connection. You know, an unspoken bond that you’re always hearing about. Do you know what I mean? Probably not, since you’re most likely screening this call right now.

I don’t want to be that guy but I just feel like I’m owed an explanation, that’s all. I mean, I had everything ready and you just didn’t show. How is that supposed to make me feel? Not good let me tell you, not good at all. I just thought we were good after our conversation.

Was there something else that I said or did? I keep running it over and over in my head and I can’t think of anything. If there’s something new I did, I wish you would tell me, so I could fix it. I miss not seeing you on a regular basis.

I didn’t think your absence would bother me this much, especially after the things that were said that night. Which I’m willing to admit I probably over-reacted a bit, but you were a little aggressive with the accusations. You just have to understand, that’s never happened to me before and I wasn’t sure how to handle it.

Obviously mistakes were made but after running into you and discussing things, I thought everything was okay between us. I mean, it seem like a good talk. That was the impression that I got anyway. Especially after you said you would stop by tonight and give me another chance.

I can see now though, that the wounds between us are obviously more than just skin deep. I just wish you would give me a chance to make it up. If for no other reason than it would give us a sense of closure. If that’s what you want?

If it helps I can apologize again? I just feel like I’ve apologized enough and it obviously hasn’t helped. Okay fine, if you want to hear it again then here it is. I’m sorry that you and your family got food poisoning last time you were here. Does that make everything better Mr. Johnson? I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, now please call me back so we can straighten this out.

This is Louie, from Louie’s Pizzeria, as if you didn’t know and from the bottom on my heart, I’m sorry. Now, please return my phone call for crying out loud.

End of Message


Traffic Report Monologue

April 15, 2012 1 comment

Monologue first performed as part of the “What’s Wrong With Wally, Sketch Radio Show”. Performed again in June 2011 as part of ECT’s Eclectic Voices monologue show, “Funny How Things Work Out”.

By Jeff Folschinsky

Hello this is Larry your eye in the sky with this evening’s traffic report. Now I have to apologize for the lateness of this report, but it seems my car was missing this afternoon.

Most likely more activity on the part of my ex-wife, who doesn’t seem content with the house, the dog, and half my salary she’s now collecting because it seems her lawyer was just a little bit more ambitious than mine. But hey, those are the breaks I guess. But it seems now she has my car in her evil clutches.

Let me ask you this, what kind of person takes a traffic reporter’s car before he goes to work? That’s just sick. Now I’m not telling you this to get any sympathy, but if anyone finds themselves helplessly caught in traffic, because of the lateness of this report, well you know who’s to blame. The heartless ex Mrs. Skylark who lives at 335 South New Hope off the 405 in the edge wood hills.

You’re probably thinking to yourself, God! That really pisses me off! I should go over there and take some vigilante action against that woman. I plead with you not to do it. I have nothing but love in my heart for that woman. And if I can be big enough to forgive her, then so should you.

So, with that out of the way, let’s get on with the traffic. Well, the 233 is moving fairly slowly but seems to be steady when compared to the 101 which is still caught in gridlock because of an accident that the authorities are still trying to clean up off the road. Now gridlock, there’s an interesting word. Sort of sounds like wedlock only less intimidating. You would think that I really have it out for this woman, but nothing could be further from my mind.

So a route I would suggest to get out of this wedlock, Oops, I mean gridlock, would be the Beverly Grooves exit off the 101. Now this takes you a little out of the way, but it does take you through my ex wife’s scenic neighborhood. Which I might add has plenty of excellent sniping positions and a nice escape route off the 405 which seems to be moving along quite nicely.

I have also noticed a lot of loose gravel on the hills above her house, so a man made rock slide could be a real possibility. Again, this is nothing that I would suggest, but hypothetically speaking, one could do a lot of damage on his or her way home and only be delayed twenty minutes…


Yes control, this is Larry, your eye in the sky. Ah-ha, the easy beaver called and asked when I was going to come by and pick up my car. Ah-ha, too drunk so they had to call me a cab. Ah-ha, well tell them I’ll be by after work.


Well, to wrap this all up the 185 has little to no traffic so if you’re wanting to get home right away. Then that’s your best bet. So until tomorrow I’m Larry, your eye in the sky, saying happy motoring.



Monologue performed November 4, 2011 as part of ECT’s Eclectic Voices monologue show, “Signs From The Universe”. 

By Jeff Folschinsky

AT RISE: Lights come up to TRACY talking to a newspaper reporter.

I know you’ve heard the stories but it really wasn’t my fault; really. I was just doing a science experiment for class.

We were studying hydroponics and I was suppose to grow a tomato plant. Easy enough, I have a friend of mine Jay-Man that’s into horticulture, so I borrowed the equipment from him. Jay-Man isn’t his actual name. His real name is Herbert Jabowski, but he likes to be called Jay-Man. He says it makes him sound more gangster. What ever that means? Anyway, he lets me borrow the equipment, gives me some instructions on how to set it up and gives me some tomato seeds that he just happens to have laying around. And I have to say, as science homework goes this was pretty fun. It was really interesting to watch these plants grow from a couple of little seeds.

The problem came when the plants were fully grown and I noticed they weren’t growing tomatoes. I didn’t understand, I did everything that I was suppose to do. The plant looked healthy enough, so why no tomatoes?

I took a picture of the plants and e-mailed it to Jay-Man who told me he could tell me what was going on if he saw them. I was on the phone with him when he opened the picture on his computer and knew that something was wrong when I heard him say, “oh”. Now in my life, I’ve noticed that “oh” is one of those words that have a variety of meanings, but when “oh” is followed by awkward silence, it’s never good news. Finally I couldn’t take the silence and said, “Jay-Man, what’s going on?” This was followed by more silence so I ask him again. “Jay-Man, what’s up?” Still nothing from him, so finally in my frustration I yelled out, “Hey, Herbert, what the hell is happening?” That snapped him out of it and he finally confessed that he apparently had given me not tomato seeds but marijuana seeds instead.

There was a moment of silence, well I assume it was just a moment since time had become one of those relative concepts at that point. Finally, the only thing that came out of my mouth was, what? Actually I think it came out more as, Whhhhaaaaaat?

“Yeah, I’m really embarrassed”, Herbert told me. Yes, I know I said he likes to be called Jay-Man, but this little son of a bitch just got me to turn my parents basement into an illegal grow-op, so I’m calling the jerk off by his real name. I mean good god, next week I was going to take those plants to class. Could you have imagined? I would have been mortified. Really popular with my class mates I’m sure, but mortified none-the-less.

“What the hell am I’m going to do”, I asked? Herbert, then said he would love to help but didn’t want to get involved. Something about three strikes, I don’t know. And then the little snot said someone was beeping in and he had to take it. And then all of the sudden there I was, sitting all alone, with several fully grown marijuana plants.

What the hell am I suppose to do with these things? I mean I know what people do with them but I’m just not into that. I don’t even smoke cigarettes for crying out loud. Not that I have anything against people that smoke I just never could grasp the concept of purposely putting smoke into my own lungs for any reason. I guess I’m a little bit of a prude that way. I don’t know, I guess time will tell on that one.

Anyway, I’ve got these marijuana plants that I clearly can’t turn in as my science project, so what to do? I thought about calling someone and seeing if they would take them off my hands but then paranoia kicked in. What if they turned me in? I mean, I’m not sure what this whole three strike thing is but it sounded pretty bad and I have no idea if anymore of my friends are in that same position. It seems like a pretty rude thing to just bring up in conversation. “Hey, how’s it going? Do you have three strikes and if not do you want to take some marijuana plants off my hands?” They’d probably think I was trying to set them up.

I could just throw them in the trash but that just seem like I was asking for trouble. I mean you always hear about these people getting into other peoples garbage to learn things about them. I could only imagine what they would think if they opened up our garbage and found marijuana plants in there. And lord help me if they thought it was a normal occurrence. I could just picture my father constantly having to chase people away yelling, “what the hell is wrong with you people? Get the hell out of my garbage!”

Finally I just decided the easiest thing to do was just burn them. We had a fire place and it’s just a plant right? I could just throw them in there and poof my problem is gone away. I could make up some story to my teacher and hopefully she would give me an extension so I could start from scratch. With actual tomatoes this time. I got the fire going to a healthy level. Fortunately this happened when it was cold out so a fire in the fireplace wouldn’t stand out at all. The great thing about growing something hydroponically is that there’s no soil. I just pulled up the plants from the water, let them dry out for a little bit and fed them to the primordial element of fire.

An hour later I was really thirsty for some reason. I mean really thirsty. The more I drank the dryer my mouth felt. I must of inhaled an entire jug of water in the kitchen. Also Mrs. Johnson’s bible study group next door was starting to get really rowdy. I mean really, really rowdy. Mrs. Johnson was dancing in her front yard yelling that Jesus had healed her glaucoma and another man was yelling about a wine stain in the carpet that looked just like the Virgin Mary. Also I noticed there was this squirrel in our window just staring longingly at the apple pie my mother made that afternoon. And if things weren’t getting strange enough someone came running out of Mrs. Johnson’s house yelling, “dear god, it’s the rapture!” Everyone yelled, and ran for their cars. By the time the cops showed up there was a five car pile up and I was laughing uncontrollably. There was nothing particularly funny, I just started laughing and couldn’t stop myself. Which was bad because it didn’t take them long to make their way to my door. I tried to play it cool but when I opened the door and saw them, I just started laughing again. I think it was nervous laughter this time but regardless I was doing it and couldn’t stop.

The police officer finally got nervous and took me out to his car. Not to arrest me but he had an emergency oxygen bottle out there. Apparently he was afraid I was about to pass out because of the uncontrollable laughter. After awhile the laughter stopped and the crying began as I started to tell the police the whole story. Surprisingly I didn’t get into as much trouble as I thought I would.

I got in more trouble with my parents who seem to be able to recognize the smell as soon as they came in through the front door. After I explained what happened to them. I got the lecture about responsibility and how I used bad judgment. They made me apologize to Mrs. Johnson and her bible study group. Funny, they actually seem disappointed when I told them what had happened. I think they believed something miraculous happened to them that night.

Well now Mrs. Johnson is holding her bible study meeting twice a week with a certain smell that comes from her house that seems oddly familiar, so all’s well that ends well, I guess.

That’s it really. I thought the story would just fade away but it’s taken on a life of it’s own at this point. I just figured I would at least make an attempt to get the truth out there. So as you can see, my family is not drug czars, it wasn’t a terrorist plot to take down the typical family neighborhood and it definitely wasn’t an attack on the Christian right. It was just a simple mistake. A comedy of errors if you will. The only thing that was really hurt was my science grade so lets just all get on with our lives.

Oh well, I hope that this helps your story. Now if you don’t mind I’ve got to make it to Mrs. Johnson’s bible study before all the brownies are taken. Of course, it was nice to meet you too.