I don't own anyone. Well, maybe myself. But the CSI folks and related friendly neighbourhood homicide detectives belong to CBS, Zuiker, and the Lawyers. Believe me on that one. But the corpse - he's all mine, baby.
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Parody scripts are all you're gonna get. Paragraphs are my enemy! Anyone want to cowrite?
[oh, yeah, and a shout-out to the Tahoe, the most prominent character in this script to date.]
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Opening scene: Las Vegas. At night. Hey, who knew? The view circles over Las Vegas - yes, there's a pyramid. And the Eiffel Tower. And some dancing water.
After the view establishes that we are, in fact, seeing Las Vegas and not some OTHER large, sparkly city with weird landmarks, the view tightens down into a side street, off the main Strip. We see police officers standing around - well, some are standing around. Some are questioning homeless people. And some are glaring at the Tahoe that just drove up. Yes, it's...the Geek Squad!
(Grissom stumbles out of the Tahoe and weaves over to Brass, who is standing downwind of the corpse. Brass gives him a curious look.)
Brass: Grissom, you're...are you ok?
Grissom: (sniffles) Fine. Of course I'm fine.
(Sara comes up behind Grissom with the speed of an angry ferret. He jumps, as does Brass. The surrounding cops look nervous.)
Sara: Grissom, how much Nyquil do I need to slip into your coffee before you go home?
G: But I haven't had a cup yet...
S (looks away): Well, no lab results for us tonight.
B: Someone want to take a turn at being Captain Exposition for a second?
S: Grissom's sick.
G: No. I'm not sick. I'm merely in the middle of an experiment-(Grissom sneezes perilously close to the corpse)-damnit!
S: He wanted to see if it was actually physically possible to die from the flu.
G: No, I'm merely testing- (Grissom inhales as if to sneeze. Everyone steps back) -the rate of infection for this particular strain of bacteria. (He exhales. Everyone relaxes.)
B: Don't you have a lab tech for this kind of thing?
G: (rubs the bridge of his nose) I thought he already had something. God knows he was acting like he had had something. (Grissom shoots a glare at Sara, who is studiously examining the crime scene.)
B: Go home, Grissom.
G: (desperate) I can't. Nicky and Warrick called in late tonight, and I won't leave Sara alone on a homicide. (He sneezes again.)
(Sara looks coyly pleased. Brass rolls his eyes. Grissom looks like he's going to pass out on the pavement.)
B: I'll stay with her. Go home.
(Grissom looks tempted. For about two seconds. Brass sighs.)
S (getting down to business): Who's our friend here?
Generic Uniformed Cop: Who, Stinky?
(Grissom's glare is made ten times more formidable by the reddened eyes and wheezy breathing. The cop backs off.)
S: So...I should do...?
G: Start taking pictures.
S: Of...?
G: You've been a CSI how long?
S: You just don't underSTAND me, Grissom!
(Sara storms off to the Tahoe, where she's stashed a couple of "Forensics Monthly" magazines. Grissom stares after her, with his jaw literally dropped.)
B: How you gonna work it now?
(In a dazzling display of serendipity - or maybe they finally responded to Gil 'Fifteen Pages a Minute' Grissom - Nicky and Warrick drive up in another Tahoe. They saunter over to the crime scene.)
Nicky: Whazzup?
(Grissom gives him The Stare.)
N:...I mean, what can we do to help?
B: Grissom's sick - would you mind taking over for tonight?
G: I am not sick. (He sniffles. Again.)
Warrick: Sure, I can take shift supervisor again.
N: Wait a minute - who died and made you supervisor?
(They look at Grissom.)
N:...Anyway, it's my turn.
W: It doesn't go by turns, bro, it goes by game.
G: No one's being promoted tonight. I'm staying here, I'll work the scene.
B: Where's Catherine? She could take this over.
W: She called to say she'd be late.
B: You're gonna to have to exposit better than that if you wanna make Captain.
W: That's all she said! Hey, man, I didn't take the message - Greg did.
(Grissom and Brass look over at Sara, who is sitting in the front of the Tahoe with the doors open, singing along to Sheryl Crow.)
G: Nicky, find Catherine.
N: Gotcha. Plot basement D.
G: Warrick, get the camera from Sara and finish off the photography.
W: And she can't do it...why?
G: Ok, Warrick, why don't you go ask her to do it?
(Warrick looks belatedly apprehensive, but he walks over to the car and interrupts Sara's diva session. Those standing around the corpse can faintly hear the uninterrupted stream of abuse coming out of the Tahoe's front seat.)
G: And then there was one. Ok, Brass, exposit. Who is this guy, and why are we here?
B:...Because one of the uniforms got confused and called you in. This isn't a homicide.
G (barely manages to get out): Wha..?
B: The guy was drunk, he fell, he hit his head on the steps. There's a dozen witnesses, right over there. (He waves to the dozen people standing around downwind of the corpse.)
G: Wha...?
B: You want I should tell them? (He points to Warrick and Sara, who are now leaning together against the Tahoe, giggling at something in "Forensics Monthly".)
(Catherine rushes up, her hair and makeup perfect.)
Catherine: Grissom, I'm sorry, I just got your page - Lindsey's had the stomach flu all day, you know how it is.
(Grissom is still standing stock-still with a bemused look on his face, mouth hanging open.)
C:...Anyway, I'm here now. Grissom? You sent me fifty-six pages - it sounded pretty urgent. It had better be pretty urgent.
B: You'd better take him home, Catherine.
(Catherine looks unbelievably annoyed. Nicky trots up behind the threesome at the corpse, out of breath.)
N: There! Here! I mean...
(The view spirals upward, keeping a focus on Grissom, who has just swooned in Catherine's arms. The rest of the CSI unit grab some limbs and heave the fearless leader into the Tahoe, which drives off into the wilds of Las Vegas...what mysterious adventures await us next?)
***********************************************************
Parody scripts are all you're gonna get. Paragraphs are my enemy! Anyone want to cowrite?
[oh, yeah, and a shout-out to the Tahoe, the most prominent character in this script to date.]
***********************************************************
Opening scene: Las Vegas. At night. Hey, who knew? The view circles over Las Vegas - yes, there's a pyramid. And the Eiffel Tower. And some dancing water.
After the view establishes that we are, in fact, seeing Las Vegas and not some OTHER large, sparkly city with weird landmarks, the view tightens down into a side street, off the main Strip. We see police officers standing around - well, some are standing around. Some are questioning homeless people. And some are glaring at the Tahoe that just drove up. Yes, it's...the Geek Squad!
(Grissom stumbles out of the Tahoe and weaves over to Brass, who is standing downwind of the corpse. Brass gives him a curious look.)
Brass: Grissom, you're...are you ok?
Grissom: (sniffles) Fine. Of course I'm fine.
(Sara comes up behind Grissom with the speed of an angry ferret. He jumps, as does Brass. The surrounding cops look nervous.)
Sara: Grissom, how much Nyquil do I need to slip into your coffee before you go home?
G: But I haven't had a cup yet...
S (looks away): Well, no lab results for us tonight.
B: Someone want to take a turn at being Captain Exposition for a second?
S: Grissom's sick.
G: No. I'm not sick. I'm merely in the middle of an experiment-(Grissom sneezes perilously close to the corpse)-damnit!
S: He wanted to see if it was actually physically possible to die from the flu.
G: No, I'm merely testing- (Grissom inhales as if to sneeze. Everyone steps back) -the rate of infection for this particular strain of bacteria. (He exhales. Everyone relaxes.)
B: Don't you have a lab tech for this kind of thing?
G: (rubs the bridge of his nose) I thought he already had something. God knows he was acting like he had had something. (Grissom shoots a glare at Sara, who is studiously examining the crime scene.)
B: Go home, Grissom.
G: (desperate) I can't. Nicky and Warrick called in late tonight, and I won't leave Sara alone on a homicide. (He sneezes again.)
(Sara looks coyly pleased. Brass rolls his eyes. Grissom looks like he's going to pass out on the pavement.)
B: I'll stay with her. Go home.
(Grissom looks tempted. For about two seconds. Brass sighs.)
S (getting down to business): Who's our friend here?
Generic Uniformed Cop: Who, Stinky?
(Grissom's glare is made ten times more formidable by the reddened eyes and wheezy breathing. The cop backs off.)
S: So...I should do...?
G: Start taking pictures.
S: Of...?
G: You've been a CSI how long?
S: You just don't underSTAND me, Grissom!
(Sara storms off to the Tahoe, where she's stashed a couple of "Forensics Monthly" magazines. Grissom stares after her, with his jaw literally dropped.)
B: How you gonna work it now?
(In a dazzling display of serendipity - or maybe they finally responded to Gil 'Fifteen Pages a Minute' Grissom - Nicky and Warrick drive up in another Tahoe. They saunter over to the crime scene.)
Nicky: Whazzup?
(Grissom gives him The Stare.)
N:...I mean, what can we do to help?
B: Grissom's sick - would you mind taking over for tonight?
G: I am not sick. (He sniffles. Again.)
Warrick: Sure, I can take shift supervisor again.
N: Wait a minute - who died and made you supervisor?
(They look at Grissom.)
N:...Anyway, it's my turn.
W: It doesn't go by turns, bro, it goes by game.
G: No one's being promoted tonight. I'm staying here, I'll work the scene.
B: Where's Catherine? She could take this over.
W: She called to say she'd be late.
B: You're gonna to have to exposit better than that if you wanna make Captain.
W: That's all she said! Hey, man, I didn't take the message - Greg did.
(Grissom and Brass look over at Sara, who is sitting in the front of the Tahoe with the doors open, singing along to Sheryl Crow.)
G: Nicky, find Catherine.
N: Gotcha. Plot basement D.
G: Warrick, get the camera from Sara and finish off the photography.
W: And she can't do it...why?
G: Ok, Warrick, why don't you go ask her to do it?
(Warrick looks belatedly apprehensive, but he walks over to the car and interrupts Sara's diva session. Those standing around the corpse can faintly hear the uninterrupted stream of abuse coming out of the Tahoe's front seat.)
G: And then there was one. Ok, Brass, exposit. Who is this guy, and why are we here?
B:...Because one of the uniforms got confused and called you in. This isn't a homicide.
G (barely manages to get out): Wha..?
B: The guy was drunk, he fell, he hit his head on the steps. There's a dozen witnesses, right over there. (He waves to the dozen people standing around downwind of the corpse.)
G: Wha...?
B: You want I should tell them? (He points to Warrick and Sara, who are now leaning together against the Tahoe, giggling at something in "Forensics Monthly".)
(Catherine rushes up, her hair and makeup perfect.)
Catherine: Grissom, I'm sorry, I just got your page - Lindsey's had the stomach flu all day, you know how it is.
(Grissom is still standing stock-still with a bemused look on his face, mouth hanging open.)
C:...Anyway, I'm here now. Grissom? You sent me fifty-six pages - it sounded pretty urgent. It had better be pretty urgent.
B: You'd better take him home, Catherine.
(Catherine looks unbelievably annoyed. Nicky trots up behind the threesome at the corpse, out of breath.)
N: There! Here! I mean...
(The view spirals upward, keeping a focus on Grissom, who has just swooned in Catherine's arms. The rest of the CSI unit grab some limbs and heave the fearless leader into the Tahoe, which drives off into the wilds of Las Vegas...what mysterious adventures await us next?)