Its New York City run may have been cut short by the pandemic, but you can now read The Jerry Duncan Show play, right here! Enjoy the first act.
You will be able to read the script from my play The Jerry Duncan Show that opened in New York City, March 5, 2020 and had to close the day Broadway shutdown due to the coronavirus. The play received an outstanding review in Broadway World. There will be pages published twice a week for the next 6 weeks. If you miss a week, just go to www.humortimes.com under The Jerry Duncan Show.
Written by Dean B. Kaner The Jerry Duncan Show (c) Dean B. Kaner
Scene 1 Jerry’s Apartment
JERRY DUNCAN’S LIVING ROOM
Jerry Duncan, 38, sits on a chair in his apartment listening to the television. His horn rimmed glasses are on the end of his nose. He is wearing an oversized robe and slippers. There are beer cans crumpled up and letters strewn around the floor. CNN panelists on a political talk show can be heard in the background having a round table discussion. The stage is split in two. Stage left is the apartment and stage right is the radio station. There is a large screen on stage right that guests are behind during the interviews. They are visible as silhouettes. A radio console and microphone sit on a table.
An INTERN enters the apartment.
I have your mail, Mr. Duncan.
Anything good today?
Sorry about your mother passing away.
Old news. Give me the rest.
The intern hands him a stack. Jerry selects a few letters.
Dear Big Mouth,
When are jerks like you going to get it through your thick skull that there was no collusion or obstruction by the president. It’s right there in the Mueller Report. I’m sick and tired of hearing
Crumples up the letter and tosses it on the floor.
Take this down.
The intern holds a cassette recorder close to Jerry’s face.
You are an idiot. Trump’s frickin son was taking a meeting with a Russian lawyer who worked for Putin. It’s called collusion.
Reads another letter.
Hi Mr. Duncan,
I’m 11 years old and listen to your show when my mom drives me to school. I get mad, because she turns down the sound when you say bad words. Like I don’t get to hear much. I laugh when you make fun of everyone. Is there a kids version of your show?
Big Fan, Teddy.
The intern brings the recorder close to Jerry’s face.
Kids version? When I was your age, I was reading my old man’s Playboy magazines. Grow up you little monster.
Crumples up the letter and tosses it in the pile of previously crumpled letters.
The CNN host is heard saying” “What happened to civility?”
Why don’t they put me on CNN? I’d kill it.
A voice is heard. It’s his 74 year-old deceased mother MAGGIE. She enters the apartment.
Oh no. It’s my mother. Should I kill myself now or after the conversation?
Jerry. Look at you. You’re 38 years-old and single. You live in a tiny apartment that doesn’t have enough room for even cockroaches. Which reminds me. Did you buy some roach traps? They’re on sale at Target.
Please. I’m a big boy. I don’t need to be reminded.
Second. The roaches are my pets. Third. You’re embarrassing.
As a young adult, you embarrassed me. My friends were always bragging about their children being a doctor, lawyer, accountant. What could I say you were? Ah. An extra in the movie Mystery Alaska.
It’s a classic.
I would have loved to have said, “my son the actor.” Instead, I had to remain silent while my friends pushed the limits of bragging.
Is that when you became an alcoholic? After all, you’re laying a guilt trip on me. Like you always have.
For your information, I wasn’t an alcoholic. I didn’t need to attend those stupid AA meetings. Sure I may have had too much to drink on occasion. But only when I looked at your report cards. I thought you were doomed for failure. Your grades ranged from C’s to F’s. Honestly, the teachers were ready to dig into the Dr. Seuss alphabet if you dropped below an F.
Little did you know that I would become one of the most popular radio talk show hosts in America. Politicians and celebrities fighting to be heard and humiliated.
True. You’re successful unlike your father. He still can’t believe your success.
Had you pegged for construction in Wasilla. Working side by side with the “you betcha” Palin brothers.
In his best year, pops made $10,000 stocking shelves at the grocery store. He should have been a sanitation worker. At least he would of had a pot to piss in.
Please. Do me a favor. Move out of this dingy apartment. Find a nice girl like your mother and settle down. Which reminds me. Mrs. Anderson sends you greetings. She misses your jokes.
And on those utterly insane comments, it’s time for the show.
TO BE CONTINUED…
- The Jerry Duncan Show Interviews Bernie Sanders & Uncle Max Sanders, Adventure II - November 23, 2020
- The Jerry Duncan Show Interviews Democratic Strategist James Carville and Former NYC Mayor Rudy Giuliani - November 16, 2020
- The Jerry Duncan Show Interviews Alaskan Truck Driver Melissa Pickle - November 8, 2020