Wide World Of Shooting.
WARNING: NOT FOR THE SQUEAMISH. This mass-shooting script is way too soon, and much too dark, but I think it captures some of the absurd humor in this situation. If we can have a reality-show president, why not turn our recurring national nightmare into a sports reality show?
JIM: Good evening, and welcome to the Wide World Of Shooting. Tonight, we're coming to you from Bumwash, Texas, a small town of about 150 souls near Lubbock, in the northern panhandle. Frank?
FRANK: That's right, Jim. Tonight, we're going to see if Texas can recapture the Guinness World Record title as the "site of the largest mass shooting in U.S. history." The Guinness verification team is in place, the AR-15s are locked and loaded... but first, let's get some background on tonight's shooter. Howard?
HOWARD: I'm here with Billie Bob Buford, an ex-employee of Wilson Widgets, which used to be the largest employer in this gawdforsaken town.
BILLIE BOB: It was the *only* employer in this gawdforsaken town, Howard. And when it closed down, two years ago, my life fell apart. No job, no income, no kids, no wife.
HOWARD: Your wife left you?
BILLIE BOB: She took the kids and ran off with my former supervisor. He was offered a job at the head office of Wilson Widgets down in Houston, so she hitched her wagon to a faster horse. I didn't find out 'til after they'd left that he had been bangin' her for nearly ten years. In fact, some of the kids I thought were mine are probably *his*!
HOWARD: Well, that's certainly motive enough for what you're about to attempt. Do you think you can bring the record back to Texas?
BILLIE BOB: "Remember The Alamo!" That bastard in Vegas is goin' dowwwwwn!!
HOWARD: There you have it, folks. A disgruntled former employee in a jealous rage, trying to knock off the horns planted on his head by a sneaky, underhanded ex-boss. And he's going for a new American record!
CROWD (in bleachers, behind Howard): U! S! A! - U! S! A! - U! S! A!
FRANK: Howard, it looks like the shooting has already begun! (Bullet hits glass, and a circular crack appears.) I'm glad we're up here in the booth, behind this bulletproof glass, Jim.
JIM: I think that was just a ricochet, off the cigarette case of Billie Bob's ex-supervisor.
FRANK: That weasel is back in town?
JIM: Yep, we offered him an all-expense-paid weekend with hookers and crack, so he flew up from Houston on Friday night. He's the first one down, and he's bleeding profusely. The Guinness verification team is examining him now...
FRANK: Oh, no! The Guinness team members are shaking their heads. Billie Bob's first victim is not dead! He's *not* dead, folks! Billie Bob is off to a rough start, here in Bumwash, Texas.
JIM: But it looks as though he's beginning to settle down, Frank. Billie Bob just walked back and squeezed off a couple of rounds into his ex-supervisor's head, at point-blank range. And the Guinness folks... yes, they're giving the thumbs-up, Frank! Billie Bob's mass shooting is starting to pick up steam. And now he's aiming at the windows of the local church, firing off 400 rounds a minute... but wait!
FRANK: Yes, somebody called the cops, Jim, and you can see their lights flashing, off in the distance. But before this goes any further, we should probably explain the bar chart overlay that appears on the viewer's screen. The first rectangular bar shows the population of Bumwash, Texas, and the percentage of its residents that Billie Bob has wasted. A big chunk of the town was at church tonight, so we're starting to see significant results there. The second rectangular bar shows the American record set in Las Vegas earlier this year, and you can see that Billie Bob is very close to regaining the title for the Lone Star State...
JIM: Let me interrupt you, Frank. We have a shocking development in this active shooter scenario. It seems the church choir brought *their* AR-15s to the service tonight, and they're shooting back at Billie Bob...
FRANK: ...and Billie Bob is down, folks! Despite his body armor and flak jacket, Billie Bob has sustained several wounds from the church choir. Those sopranos are surprisingly good shooters...
JIM: ...and why not, Frank? They've got a name and a reputation to live up to. Billie Bob is on the ground, and he's dragging himself, hand over hand, to a nearby car. What's he looking for?
FRANK (using binoculars): I can't quite see... oh, wait. The car door is opening, and a hand reaches out, and Billie Bob...
FRANK/JIM (in unison): ...tags the hand!
JIM: ...just as he takes his final breath! What a surprise, Frank! We've got a whole new ball game. I certainly didn't see that coming. Billie Bob had a tag-team accomplice... and it's a woman! And what a shooter she is. She's wiped out the entire church choir, and... can we call it, Frank?
FRANK: Yes! The Guinness team has officially certified that the American record is back in Texas! This is now the largest mass shooting in U.S. history!
CROWD (in bleachers outside booth, some wounded, some dead): U! S! A! - U! S! A! - U! S! A!
JIM: And I notice that Billie Bob's female accomplice is wearing a hijab head scarf, so that means this is also an act of...
FRANK/JIM (in unison): ...terrorism!
FRANK: What a night! What a memorable night! And with that, we'll throw it back to you, in the studio.
As we cut away, we see the broadcast booth, with a gaudy flashing neon sign: "THOUGHTS & PRAYERS!"
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