Good Evening: I Am Thrilled To Be Performing Long Form Improvisational Comedy For This Audience Of Captivated Decision Makers

Good Evening. Thank you for coming out tonight, and welcome to my one man show; my sketch team Robert Pissed and Pooped His Pants Until There Was Nothing Left; my improv group that usually has shows containing my mother laughing loudly in the idly packed front row; and my catastrophe of a Harold Team audition all wrapped in one catastrophic meltdown designed for you and you only, the bored entertainment industry decision makers.

I know you overly caffeinated group of Improv School Panel Boards Members, Casting Directors, Agents, Producers, Directors, and all around power wielding messiah’s are anxious to get back to staring mindlessly at your tightly wound fake Gucci watches, so I’m going to illicit a one word suggestion from you to get this shitshow on the road. What’s that? Did I hear you say SNL? The first word of suggestion I heard was SNL, so were going to go with that one.

SNL:  As I audition for you captivated decision makers tonight, I want you to be aware that I’ve shilled several thousand dollars towards improv and sketch classes. This has led me to this glorious moment of me standing on this historic stage squinting to see a man I believe to be Lorne Michaels blithely laughing at a text message he received from Adam Sandler about a sketch he cut from air in 1992.

Okay, so I didn’t get SNL, but I’m still thrilled to be showing off my long form improvisational comedy skills to you: The Casting Director for a new Disney Channel comedy. Now, I know the audition ad said they’re looking for a child to teen actor to play a 12 year old and I’m 26. I, however, believe that the magic of my ability to heighten my believability as a 12 year old and somewhat fiendishly “yes and” any outrageous lie on my resume lends credibility to my competence and undeniable talent that hiring me for this role will shoot everyone involved to the pinnacle of any success they may achieve in life.

Okay, while I didn’t get the Disney Channel Sitcom part and I happened to be thrown off set while being blacklisted by half the agents at CAA, I am still thrilled to be performing improvisational comedy for you: The shady, sort of Hollywood manager. Except you’re not really a manager at all, but more of an unnecessary middleman who may or may not get me a job in the industry,  but still somehow demand 10% of my salary from my day job as a Barista at Peete’s Coffee that he had no part in getting me.

Okay, while I didn’t get anywhere with that shady Hollywood Manager, I’m still thrilled to be performing improvisational comedy for this audience of captivated decision makers: You, my parents. Hell, I’ll show you everything I learned about improv from Second City, because I desperately need you to desire a reason to keep throwing rent money into my bank account every month. I know I’m not giving you grandkids any time soon, but if I give birth to something, maybe a turtle, will you still continue to support my dreams, please!

Okay, so while I did get somewhere with my parents cause they’re totally chill and the best mom and dad anyone could ever have, I am still thrilled to be performing improvisational comedy for this audience of captivated decision makers: The headwriter for this cool new Hulu sketch comedy show that I may have to sleep with, so they could possibly hire me and then wield an unruly amount of power over my employment based on whether or not I continue to fuck them in a broom closet on a continuous basis for the next five years.

Okay, so while I did actually get that job as a staff writer on the hit Seinfeld meets Game of Thrones-esque NBC sitcom, I still have to perform improvisational comedy for my captivated audience of decision makers: You, the network affiliate. A Network Affiliate who is chomping on the bit on whether to spend enough ad money to turn this show into the next Sex and the City or the next Emily’s Reasons Why Not.

Okay, while the sitcom did end up proving to be an Emily’s Reasons Why Not after being swiftly canceled, I am still thrilled to be performing improvisational comedy for this captivated audience of decision makers: You, the comedy club booker on the planet Mars. I am eager to perform for whatever extraterrestrial life there might be and any molecule of Cosmic Dust that doesn’t shout out misogynist one word suggestions to the largely female improv troupe I joined. Give us that one token of gratitude while we perform our monthly improv jam in space, please.