Tag: play

One of two Ted Cruz-related minisodes I wrote on Facebook and decided to publish on Medium so I at least had something on Medium.

First, read this weird-ass story linked below:

This story reveals that Ted Cruz’s soup obsession goes beyond anything we ever imagined
They say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, but the way to Ted Cruz’s heart is through a can of soup. His…theweek.com

Now, read this:

INT. GROCERY STORE — DAY

TED CRUZ, dressed in “casual” clothes that look like they were just bought or never worn before, stands in front of the enormous selection of canned soup in the canned soup aisle. His eyes wander to and fro: cans stacked on the shelves, cans loaded into those weird Pez-dispenser type machines, cans everywhere. Finally his eyes settle on: Campbell’s Chunky Soup. He does that weird little wince-smile thing that he does. Grabs one can, places it in his completely empty cart. Then another. Then another. Then another.

CROSSFADE into his cart full of cans and the shelf devoid of Campbell’s Chunky Soup. TED CRUZ looks at the hole where Campbell’s Chunky Soup used to be, his head cocked slightly at an angle.

A GROCER walks by. TED CRUZ clears his throat.

TED CRUZ
Excuse me.

GROCER
Yes?

TED CRUZ pulls a can from his cart.

TED CRUZ
Do you have any more of this…
(he puts the can close to his face, reading the label)
… Camp Bell’s Chunk Soop?

The GROCER narrows his eyes.

TED CRUZ
I require it for sustenance.

The GROCER takes a step back, glances around him to verify that he is alone.

GROCER
Let … me check … in the back, okay?

TED CRUZ wince-smiles again.

TED CRUZ
(quietly, to self, as he pets the can)
The human wife is going to enjoy all of this chunk soop.

The GROCER backs away quickly.

Two of two Ted Cruz-related minisodes I wrote on Facebook in response to his weirdness.

First, watch this:

INT. CAMPAIGN CAR — DAY

TED CRUZ climbs into the back seat of the car. He looks pleased, but like how a mannequin from the 80s looks pleased. His AIDE gets into the opposite seat. TED CRUZ stares out the window silently for a moment, his face completely blank, save for that weird wince-smile he always has. The car begins leaving the rally.

AIDE
(clears his throat)
Mr. Cruz.

TED CRUZ
Yes, Jack.

AIDE
Today, at the rally, ah … did you say … basketball “ring”?

TED CRUZ
I’m sorry?

AIDE
At the rally. You pointed at a basketball hoop, but you called it a “ring”.

TED CRUZ
(pause)
Did I?

AIDE
Yes.

TED CRUZ coughs lightly, undoes his tie a little.

TED CRUZ
Well, Jack, in the moment, you know, sometimes you get words mixed up.

AIDE
Sure.

TED CRUZ
I — I knew, a hoop, yes, I knew that. A basketball hoop.

AIDE
Right.

TED CRUZ
A hoop. Hoop.
(he mouths the word silently a couple of times)
Hoop. That’s a funny word. Hoop. Hoop. Hewp. Huh. How many times do you hear the word “hoop,” Jack? In your life.

AIDE
Not often.

TED CRUZ
Not often, yes. I’d say I barely hear it. So it could easily slip the mind.

AIDE
I guess.
(beat; nervously)
But, I mean, the term “basketball hoop,” it’s basically one word at this point. “Basketball hoop.” To describe that specific object, I mean, nobody, nobody calls it a “ring.” Nobody follow “basketball” with “ring,” you kn — I’ve never — I mean, I played ball in high school, college, nobody, I can’t think of a single person —

TED CRUZ
(abruptly, loudly)
Beautiful day out, isn’t it?

Beat. The AIDE shrinks back a bit.

AIDE
Yes, sir. Beautiful.

The car drives on. TED CRUZ continues staring out the window and mouthing, “hoop,” “hoop,” “hoop.”