Tue 13 Nov 2007
THEME SONG (sung to the tune of “Love and Marriage”):
Bud and weapons… (song interrupted by sound of bong bubbling)
Narrator: Suspended…with Henrys! is filmed before a live studio audience.
(Interior, living room. Very messy.)
Runnin’ Chris Henry: (enters front door) What the…this place is a mess. Is that…is that a condom on the floor? Tra-VIIIIIISSSSS!
(Bedroom door pops open. Smoke pours out into the living room. A half-naked woman and Travis Henry stumble out).
Travis Henry: What’s all the shouting about?
Runnin’ Chris: (coughs) What’s with all the smoke? (stern) Travis! Have you been using marijuana again?
Travis: Naw, man, we’ve just got the humidifier going. Tina’s got a sore throat. (Travis and Tina giggle)
Runnin’ Chris: (noticing Tina) And what were you two doing in there? That’s my bedroom!
Travis: Oh, sorry, man. We were in a bit of a hurry.
Runnin’ Chris: But your room is right upstairs!
Travis: I said I was sorry. But I had to (gestures to Tina) get…stuff…DONE.
Runnin’ Chris: And just look at this mess! I spent hours cleaning it up this morning! For Pete’s sake, there’s a condom on the living room floor!
Travis: Take it easy, Chris. I mean, we all know it’s not used.
(to Tina) Alright, baby, now remember – if you’re late, I want you to go down to the clinic on Port Humphrey and Gerard. Tell them Travis sent you, I’ve got an account there.
Tina: I will.
Travis: You promise?
Tina: I promise. I’ll see you later, baby. (leaves)
Travis: (walking to couch) Better not be with a paternity suit.
(Audience applauds wildly)
Travis: (flops on couch, turns on Broncos game)
Runnin’ Chris: Well?
Travis: Well what?
Runnin’ Chris: Did you not hear what I said about this mess? I spent all morning cleaning up, and now I have to come home from work to this?
Travis: Work? Last time I checked, rookie, you were suspended, too.
Runnin’ Chris: I only got four games, Travis. Unlike you, I still have to stay in shape.
Travis: What do you think I was doing in there with Tina?
Runnin’ Chris: (sighs) Why do I bother?
(Front door pops opens. Catchin’ Chris Henry bursts in, wearing a fedora, oversized sunglasses and a #15 Bengals jersey. Audience applauds wildly.)
Catchin’ Chris: (to someone outside)…go ahead and call the police! I got a lawyer!
Runnin’ Chris: Who are you yelling at?
Catchin’ Chris: My driver. Crazy son of a bitch was trying to charge me to park my own car.
Runnin’ Chris: (looks out window) Chris, that’s a taxi.
Catchin’ Chris: So?
Runnin’ Chris: So, do you own a taxi company?
Catchin’ Chris: Who do I look like, my accountant? All I know is that guy tried to charge me seven dollars for a ride back from Tit-Tanics. Doesn’t he know who the hell I am?
Runnin’ Chris: He does now. How many times have I told you to stop wearing your jersey in public?
Catchin’ Chris: I’ve got nothing else that’s clean!
Runnin’ Chris: The point is, Chris, you’re in enough trouble with the league already, not to mention the police. Don’t you think you should have just paid the man?
Travis: (holding bowl, inhaling)Yeah, Chris, you shoulda just paid the man.
Catchin’ Chris: Oh, you’re going to tell me how to manage my money now, you broke-ass-nine-kid-having-no-child-support-paying punk!
Travis: (shrugs, takes hit)
Catchin’ Chris: (grabs bowl) Gimme that thing.
Runnin’ Chris: (frustrated) Alright, enough! I’m calling a Henry Huddle!
Catchin’ Chris and Travis: Aw, man!
Runnin’ Chris: Don’t “aw, man” me. Seriously, you guys, you need to start pulling your weight around here. I know your suspensions aren’t up for another year, but it’s not like you can just stop working.
Catchin’ Chris: I know one part of Travis that hasn’t stopped working. (punches Travis in balls)
(Audience erupts with laughter)
Travis: Ow, m’balls! What the hell is wrong with you?
Catchin’ Chris: Man, I’m doing that as a favour!
Travis: (holding balls) A FAVOUR?
Catchin’ Chris: Yeah, a favour to all the taxpayers that have to take care of that baseball team you call a family!
(hooting, mild hollering)
Runnin’ Chris: Will you two knuckleheads stop messing around? I’m hosting a dinner party here tonight and now I only have three hours to cook a world-class meal and clean this place up before the guests arrive!
Runnin’ Chris: Great! Just great! Don’t tell me that they’re early.
Catchin’ Chris: I’ll get it.
(Runs to door and opens it. A pre-teen girl is standing in the doorway.)
Catchin’ Chris: (looking down over sunglasses) Well hello there, pretty pretty! And what can I do to be of service to a sweet young thing such as yourself?
Girl: Is my daddy home?
Catchin’ Chris: I don’t know, babygirl, but you can call me ‘Daddy’ all you want to…
Girl: (to Travis) Daddy!
Catchin’ Chris: Sheee-it.
Travis: Shana, how are you doing, baby? What are you doing here?
Shana: Mommy sent me.
Travis: Which one is mommy again?
Travis: Was she the Asian masseuse?
Shana: No, the hairstylist.
Travis: Right, right. Lorr-aine. Well, what did she send you down here for, dollface?
Shana: She says that you aren’t returning her phone calls, and that you owe her $64,000 in back support payments. She told me to tell you she’s retained a lawyer, so unless you want things to get litigious, you need to come up with some money fast.
Travis: Litigious…Shana, who’s been teaching you all those bad words?
Shana: Mommy said unless you start making payments I can’t go to my dancing and piano lessons anymore. (audience: ‘awwwwwwww’) And she needs a new television because the old one isn’t high definition.
Catchin’ Chris: (quietly to Runnin’ Chris) “See him on t.v., any given Sunday, win the SuperBowl, drive off in a Hyundai…”
Travis: Shana, you tell your mommy that daddy’s not working right now, but he’ll send her the money as soon as he can, and that next time she should come down and talk to daddy herself.
Shana: Okay, daddy.
Travis: Alright, love you baby, run along.
Shana: (to Catchin’ Chris) Goodbye, mister.
Catchin’ Chris: Please…(slyly)…call me ‘Chris’.
Shana: Goodbye, Chris. (leaves)
Catchin’ Chris: Mmm….mmm…MMM. Say Travis, does your daughter have a boyfriend?
Travis: (suspiciously) Why are you asking?
Catchin’ Chris: No reason.
Runnin’ Chris: What are you going to do, Chris – beat him up?
Travis: C’mon, Runnin’ Chris. You know Catchin’ Chris wouldn’t fight anybody that old.
(uproarious laughter, applause)
Catchin’ Chris: No, but I’ll fight your old ass right now… (runs at Travis. Travis gets up, and Catchin’ Chris chases him in circles around the couch. Audience laughs and cheers.)
Runnin’ Chris: Guys, be careful! You’re going to break something!
Catchin’ Chris: I’m going to break his big old nose.
Runnin’ Chris: What’s wrong?
Travis: My ankle! I think I sprained it!
Runnin’ Chris: Again? (sighs) Alright, I’ll call the trainer. (dials phone) Hello, Rodney? Yep…it’s Travis…uh huh…no, the right ankle this time…Chris was chasing him…yup…okay, see you soon.
Travis: It hurts s’ damn much. Chris, pass me that bowl…
Catchin’ Chris: Wow, Travis, it hurts that bad, huh?
Travis: (grimacing) Real bad.
Catchin’ Chris: Can you put any pressure on it at all?
Travis: No, I don’t think so.
Catchin’ Chris: In that case…(leans out door) HEY SHANA, WAIT UP! I’LL GIVE YOU A RIDE TO THE LIQUOUR STORE! (runs out door)
(Audience erupts with laughter)
Travis: (trying to get up) COME BACK HERE, CHRIS, YOU DIRTY MOTHERFU…(falls down) OWWWW! My other ankle!
Runnin’ Chris: (sighs) Here we go again! (starts cleaning up)
(Applause and cheers as we fade to commercial break)