Seinfeld Reunion: The Dick Pic

In 1998, four friends received a prison sentence of one year after unknowingly violating the Good Samaritan law of Latham, Massachusetts. Upon completing their sentences, the group agreed to cease communicating, as they determined their friendship to be forever cursed.

 

The year is now 2023. Our story takes place at a funeral home in Queens, NY.

 

George Costanza is giddy with excitement. His mother and father are dead; a burlap sack houses their charred remains. George fails to showcase believable remorse. He cannot stop rubbing his hands together while hopping up and down on the balls of his feet. His extended family takes notice of his odd behavior.

 

Enter Jerry Seinfeld, George’s childhood best friend. George has not spoken with Jerry since the duo completed their prison sentences. Nonetheless, the pair greets one another as if no time has passed.

 

“Hell of an urn you got there, George,” Jerry quips.

 

“Can you believe it, Jerry?” George whispers enthusiastically. “A freak car accident! Both parents launched through the windshield, dead on impact!”

 

“You seem to be taking it well.”

 

“I don’t know what I did to deserve this fortune! As of today, my life can finally start.”

 

“Blaming your parents for the cause of your pitiful existence. That takes introspective character growth.”

 

“Sarcasm,” George chuckles. “Classic Jerry.”

 

“So, what life-altering magic awaits George Costanza now that his troubles are over?”

 

“For starters, I’m seeing a powerhouse of a woman.”

 

“Well, stop the presses! Where’d you crazy kids meet? Don’t tell me she’s involved in the car accident that killed your parents.”

 

George clears his throat nervously.

 

“No. We met on Tinder.”

 

Jerry rolls his eyes, much to George’s annoyance.

 

“Come on, Jerry! It’s 2023! The future of meaningless sex belongs to Tinder!”

 

“Have you met this woman in person?”

 

“No! But I’ll have you know we’re planning to connect tonight! And notjust to mingle, either.”

 

“You don’t mean-”

 

“Oh, but I do!”

 

“Pity funeral sex?”

 

“Nay, my friend: congratulatory funeral sex.”

 

Jerry folds his arms and smirks.

 

“George Costanza, you are one sick puppy.”

 

George’s phone vibrates. While examining a text message, the joy on his face morphs into panic.

 

“Oh, my God. She wants to see it.”

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“A DICK PIC, JERRY! SHE WANTS A DICK PIC!”

 

The funeral home falls silent as George cowers in embarrassment.

 

“She won’t meet tonight unless I send her a photo of my genitals,” he whispers. “What kind of sick world are we living in?”

 

“It’s 2023, George. The future of meaningless sex belongs to Tinder.”

 

“Jerry, I need help! I don’t know the first thing about dick pic etiquette!”

 

“Don’t look at me. I’ve never sent one.”

 

George wipes sweat from his brow.

 

“How hard could it be?” Jerry reasons. “Pop open the trousers, snap a photo, and press send.”

 

“No. It can’t be that simple.”

 

“What more is required?”

 

“What about fanfare?”

 

“Fanfare?This coming from the man who stuffed their parent’s remains in a burlap sack?”

 

“That is completely different, and you know it!”

 

As the pair continues to bicker, Cosmo Kramer enters the funeral home. Kramer wears a bright orange jumpsuit under a vintage trench coat. He approaches his two friends, whom he hasn’t seen since their collected sentencing in 1998.

 

“Afternoon, amigos.”

 

Kramer examines the burlap sack containing the remains of George’s parents.

 

“Who brought potatoes?”

 

“Those aren’t potatoes,” George angrily clarifies.

 

“The remains,” Jerry interjects.

 

Kramer’s eyes widen as he jerks his body backward.

 

“Yowza. You went all out on this one, George.”

 

George walks away in a fit of frustration.

 

“Poor guy,” Kramer sighs. “The grief he must be going through.”

 

“You don’t know the half of it,” Jerry quips. “Say, is it true what I’ve heard? You’re willingly living in prison?”

 

“You’d best believe it, buddy! Once we finished serving our time, I marched straight to the warden’s office and made my case for a permanent residency.”

 

“But why?”

 

“Jerry, have you forgotten the marvels of prison? Free room and board, baby! In exchange for volunteer work, I get a cell allto myself. There’s a fully operating pay phone right next to my cot. And the best part of all: unlimited conjugal visits.”

 

“You’ve got women visiting you in the joint?”

 

“What can I say? Ladies love a bad boy.”

 

Kramer attempts to lean against a wall with bravado. He immediately falls on his ass and makes a fool of himself.

 

George Costanza returns to his colleagues. He appears flustered.

 

“She’s getting restless,” he whispers to Jerry.

 

“Who’s getting what now?” Kramer asks.

 

“George ‘met’ a woman on Tinder. She wants a picture of his dick before they meet in person.”

 

“Giddy up!” Kramer exclaims.

 

George shushes his friends.

 

“Kramer, I’ve never sent a dick pic. If I don’t ace this photo, it’ll be the worst day of my life.”

 

Jerry glances at the burlap sack of remains. He shakes his head disapprovingly.

 

Kramer puts his arm around George’s shoulder.

 

“You’ve come to the right place. Cosmo Kramer invented the dick pic.”

 

“How? You’ve never owned a cell phone,” Jerry interjects.

 

“I don’t need a privacy-breaching digital brick to take dick pics, Jerry. I’ve been photographing my nether region since the 70s. Give me a 35mm camera and some lighting equipment, and I’ll give you the dick pic of your dreams.”

 

“You’re giving out hard copies?”

 

“Oh yeah!Hard and framed, 16×20.”

 

“I don’t have time to send her a framed portrait!” George explodes. “I need to take this photo NOW!”

 

“Take it easy, George. Let’s go to the bathroom. The lighting won’t be ideal, but we’ll make it work.”

 

Kramer and George leave for the bathroom. Jerry stands awkwardly by the burlap sack. A few seconds later, Elaine Benes enters the funeral home. She approaches Jerry and the pair hug.

 

“Jerry Seinfeld,” she grins. “Look at you. After all these years, you’re still wearing ugly sneakers.”

 

“Elaine Benes. Stillsharp as a tack. How goes life after prison?”

 

“It goes. I hitched myself an untaken Bloomberg.”

 

“No kidding! Still working your deceptive magic, I see.”

 

“Yup. All that stands between me and a small piece of the Bloomberg fortune is an elderly man who refuses to die.”

 

“And how old is the victim in question?”

 

“One hundred and one.”

 

“Sweet fancy Moses.”

 

“I married the Crypt Keeper, Jerry.”

 

Elaine observes the burlap sack of remains. Her jaw drops.

 

“Is he serious with this?”

 

“I’m afraid so.”

 

“Unbelievable. Where is that jackass, anyway?”

 

“He’s in the bathroom with Kramer.”

 

“Doing what?”

 

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

 

Elaine shrugs her shoulders indifferently.

 

“Hey, I saw your last special! Loved the material.”

 

“Thanks. It’s so hard being a comedian in this climate.The prospect of getting canceled terrifies me.”

 

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry. Your material is so vanilla.”

 

“Vanilla?”

 

“Well, you know what I mean. All your jokes are bland and inoffensive.”

 

“I happen to think my jokes offer timeless commentaries on the state of our society!”

 

“Wow… That’s an interesting take, Jerry.”

 

“You think my career is an afterthought?”

 

“Not at all! I just don’t think your act is particularly controversial.”

 

“Well, you should hear the material I’m cooking up for my next special! It’s raw and unfiltered.”

 

“I’d love to hear it! Give me a taste.”

 

Jerry gulps. He doesn’t have any new material. The wheels spin in his head as he attempts to conjure a controversial joke.

 

“Okay,” he exhales. “What’s the deal with pronouns?”

 

Elaine stares at Jerry silently.

 

“Is there more?”

 

Jerry shakes his head sheepishly. There is an awkward silence.

 

“So, George is in the bathroom taking dick pics, and Kramer is helping him,” he reveals.

 

Elaine, in an utter state of disbelief, practically chokes on Jerry’s words.

 

***

 

Kramer and George enter the bathroom. Kramer looks up at the harsh lighting and shakes his head disapprovingly.

 

“Fluorescent fixtures.A cock’s worst nightmare.”

 

George ushers Kramer into an empty stall. Within the claustrophobic setting, he hands Kramer his cell phone.

 

“Let’s make this quick,” George mutters as he unbuckles his pants.

 

Kramer backs up as far as he can within the stall and gets down on bended knee.

 

“Okay, stand atop the toilet. That way, I can get a front-row money shot.”

 

George complies. Kramer examines George’s dick through the cell phone camera. It’s a sad sight to behold.

 

“Well?” George asks. “What are you waiting for?”

 

“You can’t rush these things, George. Your dick was in a prolonged state of confinement. Frankly, it looks terrified.”

 

“Oh god,” George cries.

 

“Easy, big fella. We just need to give it a kickstart. Try smacking it around.”

 

“Alright,” George exhales. “Give me a second.”

 

Several minutes pass. George’s dick barely changes size.

 

“It’s a semi now,” George reveals. “Practically erect.”

 

Kramer looks up at George.

 

“You sure about that, bud?”

 

“Yeah, I’m sure. Can’t you tell?”

 

Kramer looks back down at his friend’s miserable dick.

 

“Maybe the camera’s zoomed all the way out,” Kramer reasons.

 

“But I adjusted the lens to the maximum zoomed-in setting.”

 

Kramer observes the phone’s camera settings. A blank expression of horror slowly dawns upon his face.

 

“That you did, George. That you did.”

 

Just then, Jerry and Elaine burst into the bathroom. Upon seeing them from the top of the toilet, George screams in embarrassment. He falls forward, breaking the stall door off its hinges, and lands crotch-first on Kramer’s face. The pair lies on the floor adjacent to Jerry and Elaine’s feet.

 

“George Costanza,” Elaine chuckles. “You disgusting parasite.”

 

“You don’t understand!” George weeps. “I met a woman on Tinder!”

 

“I briefed her on the details,” Jerry calmly interjects.

 

Kramer brushes aside George and gets up to greet Elaine.

 

“Elaine! I heard you bagged a vintage Bloomberg!”

 

He goes in for a hug, but Elaine rejects his advances.

 

“I’m not hugging you, Kramer! Costanza’s dick was all up in your face!”

 

A metaphorical light bulb illuminates Kramer’s brain as he jerks his head back and snaps his fingers. He approaches a sink and proceeds to wash his face in an over-the-top manner.

 

Jerry and Elaine return their attention to George, who has since retreated into another bathroom stall with his cell phone.

 

“George, this is by far the most tasteless stunt you’ve ever pulled,” Elaine proclaims.

 

“I don’t need your negativity!” George snaps. “I’m under a lot of pressure! Does anyone have any positive words of encouragement?”

 

“You could dip that thing in gold, and no one would find it appealing,” Elaine quips.

 

George begins to cry. Jerry turns to face Kramer.

 

“Kramer, do you think my comedy is vanilla?”

 

“Oh yeah.Big time.”

 

“Why’d you never tell me?”

 

“I like vanilla! It’s comforting and predictable, like an old pair of slacks.”

 

“I don’t wanna be an old pair of slacks! I wanna be edgy! George, do I have an edge?”

 

“Jerry, you do not have an edge,” George tearfully replies.

 

Jerry turns to face the large bathroom mirror.

 

“What’s the deal with pronouns?” he recites to his reflection.

 

“Woof,” Kramer utters under his breath.

 

Jerry lowers his head in defeat.

 

“Guys, what am I gonna do?” George panics. “I’m back to flaccid in here!”

 

“What’s the difference?” Elaine teases.

 

“Try thinking about something sexy,” Kramer advises. “Like conjugal visits.”

 

“How about your dead parents in a burlap sack?” Jerry offers.

 

“That did it!” George exclaims.

 

He snaps a few photos of his dick and exits the bathroom stall.

 

“You guys wanna give me notes before I send them?”

 

“NO,” the three friends say unanimously.

 

George exhales and sends the photos. He places his phone in his back pocket and looks to the sky.

 

“It’s in the hands of God, now.”

 

***

 

Time passes. The grievers relocate to a nearby cemetery. The burlap sack of remains begins its descent into a small burial plot. George paces near the burial plot.

 

Jerry stands next to Elaine and Kramer.

 

“You ever get into online dating?” Jerry asks Elaine.

 

“A few times. You’re not missing much.”

 

“Ever request a dick pic?”

 

“No, but I received hundreds of unsolicited ones.”

 

George eagerly reaches into his pocket to retrieve his cell phone. His breath is heavy as he silently reads a notification. He looks up at his friends.

 

“She rejected me.”

 

George begins to cry uncontrollably. He dives into the burial plot containing the remains of his deceased parents.

 

“Bury me alive!” he pleads. “I don’t wanna live!”

 

Jerry, Elaine, and Kramer share awkward glances. After a few moments, Jerry jumps into comedian mode.

 

“What’s the deal with dick pics?”

 

Elaine and Kramer shake their heads disapprovingly. Jerry sighs.