Here’s my idea for a sitcom that I’m currently pitching to all the major networks.  It’s called “Porfle’s Kids” and has a really cute and socially-relevant premise that I think will appeal to both kids and adults.  Basically, it’s about a lovable but irresponsible bachelor named Porfle who suddenly finds himself raising three adorable, irrascible orphan boys–one white, one black, and one “other” (I haven’t decided yet between American Indian or Amish).  I, myself, will be portraying the black kid.  Some have suggested that I should play Porfle, but I just don’t think I’m right for the role.  Here, in fact, are my proposed casting choices…

PORFLE: Bea Arthur
SPANKY (white kid): Yaphet Kotto
D.J. JAMMY JAMZ (black kid): porfle
OTHER: either Ben Kingsley or Hulk Hogan
MAILMAN: Paul McCartney

Sounds too good to be true, right?  But if you want to impress the network executives, you have to have more than just a killer premise and an incredible cast–you must also come up with a sample script in order to convey a reasonable idea of how funny and heartwarming the show will be.  So here’s a scene from my “pilot” script for the show, which I use to impress the network executives during my presentation.  And before long–fingers crossed–you’ll be seeing it on your very own television set!


PORFLE, in a frilly apron and chef’s hat, is cheerily cooking breakfast while the kids, SPANKY, D.J. JAMMY JAMZ, and OTHER are sitting around the table. 

SPANKY: Hey Dad, when do we eat?

PORFLE: I thought I told you to shut up. 

D.J. JAMMY JAMZ: Yo, Dad, there are rabid wolverines in my bedroom. 

PORFLE: (incredulous) So?

D.J. JAMMY JAMZ: Well, I was thinking maybe you could call Animal Control, and–

PORFLE: Egg Catch!!!

The boys spring to their feet and hold their plates up as Porfle flings fried eggs at them with a spatula.  Each of them catches an egg and sits down to eat.  The last two eggs fly over their heads just as BIFF, THE FUNNY NEIGHBOR appears at the back door.  The eggs strike him in the eyes and dangle there like goggles. 

PORFLE: Ha, ha!  Looks like somebody has egg on his face!  Right, kids?

OTHER: That’s not funny, Dad. You could’ve injured–

PORFLE: Shut up.  What in tarnation do you want, Biff?

BIFF: (wiping off the eggs) Somebody burned my house down last night.  The police say it’s arson.  You boys wouldn’t happen to know anything about this, would you?

The boys all look at Porfle. 

PORFLE: (innocently) Hey, I was furiously masturbating to circus porn all night. 

SPANKY: But, Dad–I saw you running around the backyard with your pants on fire.

PORFLE: It’s called “friction”, son.  If you’d bothered to become a Boy Scout, you’d have learned all about stuff like that.

D.J. JAMMY JAMZ: It don’t sound like you was rubbin’ two sticks together to me!

PORFLE: Shut up.  Biff, get the hell out of my house before I sic the rabid wolverines on you.

BIFF: You haven’t heard the last of this, you…you bastard!

PORFLE: Cover your ears, kids!  He’s using cuss words!

BIFF: Damn you, Porfle!  Damn you to hell!

PORFLE: Aaargh!  Get ‘im, kids!

The boys fly out of their chairs like wild animals and attack Biff, dragging him kicking and screaming through the basement door and down the stairs.  The sounds of power tools and screams can be heard.

PORFLE: (resumes cooking) Well, that’ll keep the little bastards busy for a while.

The front doorbell rings.  Porfle answers the door and finds the MAILMAN standing there.

MAILMAN: Your latest shipment of circus porn has arrived, sir.

PORFLE: (grabs his lapels) EGAD!  Diggity swiggity suh-WEEET!  WOOF!  WOOF!  Ow-WOOOOOO!!!

The mailman flees in terror.  Porfle retires to his bedroom, dragging the huge package behind him as jaunty circus music fills the air and we FADE OUT. 


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