Greg, Rich, Bobby, Joe, Patrice, Jim, and Colin are at their usual table in the Comedy Cellar. They’re all chomping on peanuts and chain-smoking for their much needed nicotine kick. Their pal Keith Robinson is on stage, only in slight earshot of their table.

RICH: It’s like being married to a dude though, it really is.

JIM: Augh. Enough with the Bonnie shit. You think we wanna sit around here and listen to (in Rich’s voice) so uh I took Bonnie to the parlor, shut up! If it involves horse penetration and gagging count me in but anything other than that stinks!

Greg: Yeah Rich, little Jimmy has a point there, if I wanted to sit around and cross my T’s with my I’s while listening to a recent update on Cosmo magazine’s dating column I’ll go to a Victoria’s Secret.

Patrice starts shaking his body and laughing.

BOBBY: What the hell’s with you, you just blow your nose then wipe your dick?

PATRICE: No man. It’s just how white guys trash women. Greg out of all the things you could’ve used against bitches you went with Cosmo and Victorias Secret? You hack! That’s some serious white guy copping out.

GREG: Yeah Patrice would you like it better if I talked about prying out a bullet out of my circumcised hoe’s kneecap while tuning my ham radio to play my favorite bad quality NWA song?

JIM: Unless prying out a bullet means picking kernals out of your teeth, and hoes means ho-hos your pretty accurate Greg.

PATRICE: Look at you, you half a larva transformation. You’re talking shit when you can’t even hold your chin up!

JOE laughs very loudly. He has a very distinct laugh. It’s almost like a high pitched chuckle and howl.

RICH: You know what’s funny about all this?

BOBBY: No shit dick. Thanks for ruining this funny moment we’re having.

JIM: Rich should be a super hero. He could fly around and swoop in on your conversation to kill any authentic moment.

GREG: Yeah much like the Kool-Aid man, until he filed a restraining order against Patrice.

The table of comedians erupts into a howl. Greg’s zinger was a homerun.

PATRICE: (Sighing) What are you laughing at Joe? You’re half Egyptian. That means your goofy, smiling ass is a sand nigga like the rest of us.

RICH: You’re Egyptian?

JOE: Yes I’ve told you this before, I’ve told all of you. You guys always forget then when someone brings it up in conversation I get a shit ton of surprised assholes.

RICH: Jesus Joe calm down, don’t flatter yourself, you wouldn’t surprise us if you gained 40 pounds and lost your hair. Just look at Bobby.

All the comedians laugh. It wasn’t quite Greg’s zinger, but it was pretty close.

BOBBY: You cocksucker You elephant toothed piece of shit. I knew you were gonna bring it to me the second you said fat.

RICH: Well then why didn’t you say something?

JOE: He was too busy eating peanuts.

JIM: (Imitating Bobby) You know what dude! You got your peanuts and your beer! Your friend’s being all shmarmy, you eat your peanuts and boom!

JOE: Duuuuuuuude.

COLIN: I think what’s missing here is us not throwing them at him.

Jimmy laughs harder than the rest of the table.

BOBBY: Oh I see what you did there. I’m an elephant and you’re throwing peanuts at me. That’s real clever Colin Shin. Look at your ghosty white Irish legs, you look like you just walked through all the tooth paste Rich never used.

COLIN: Hey at least I’m not desperately searching for analogies while furrowing my brow like a Dominican homosexual reading a brothel selection.

GREG: No Colin, Bobby’s just thinking of the cafeterias at the college gigs he’s funny enough to perform at but too dumb to attend.

PATRICE: Bobby really is stupid. Man, you don’t notice Bobby’s stupidity at first, he’s gotten real good at kind of hiding it, but there aren’t many niggers out there who can’t spell brunch.

JOE: Bobby can’t spell brunch? RICH: Bobby I can spell brunch and I’m only slightly smarter than you.

BOBBY: You’re not smarter than me you cocksucker. You thought Liam Neason’s name was Liam Nelson for 3 years.

JIM: Yeah Rich you really are a fuck up. Rich should write his own dictionary of all the words he’s mis-pronounced over the years.

PATRICE: Why don’t we go get some ice cream at Basking Robbins first.

COLIN: He can’t hear you, he’s listening to his head speakers.

Everyone starts laughing. New excitement is in the air. A trashing of epic proportions is coming Rich’s way.

RICH: I said that once with Bonnie you hacks and that was after a 12 hour flight.

GREG: I thought they had Net Flick on the overhead TVs.

JIM: Did you at least get some sleep. I hear those neck pellows are really good for sleeping in an upright position.

BOBBY: (In Rich’s voice) Nice punk chline stupid.

PATRICE: Aw man. I’m starting to feel bad for Rich.

JIM: Wow. That’s the only time I’ve heard a black guy say feel bad and rich in the same sentence.

Patrice howls with laughter and scoops up another handful of peanuts.

JOE: (In Rich’s voice) I think Patrice should go to San Qintin.

RICH: Nice voice Joe. Really. Stick to your day job.

JIM: Under normal circumstances that’d work, but since he doesn’t have a job it’d be more like stick to your unemployment. Much like what the NBC execs told Patrice.

PATRICE: (Laughing) I’m not gonna argue that.

RICH: Why would you stupid he just said it.

PATRICE: Alright. I was offering my hand in defense, but go ahead Rich, bite the hand that fed you.

RICH: That’s Bobby’s job. There’s clapping in the background.

JIM: I guess that means Robinson’s done.

PATRICE: What time you going up at?

JIM: I think Lil Kev said he was gonna stop by. If he does then probably (looks at watch) 12, 12:30.

COLIN: You’re getting bumped by Lil’ Kevin?

JIM: Idiot. No. You think I’d let little Kev bump me. Walk into an aids tree and carve your initials in, stupid. I’m letting him on before me.

RICH: Well with that kind of attitude you’re shaping up to be bumped like a pinky in the 80’s.

JIM: Coming from a guy who uses his own voice box as a jizz bag. I’ll watch my interests and you watch yours.

JOE: (Laughing) Jesus Jim. You’re getting brutal.

COLIN: (looking at watch) Alright. I got a spot. Try not to contaminate me with your suckiness.

COLIN walks away, passing Keith Robinson, whose walking toward the table.

BOBBY: Quinn, the stage is that way, where you going?

COLIN: There’s a little place called Carolines. Maybe you could get in if you scraped dog shit off the curb.

JOE: I gotta get going too. Kelly, you wanna split a cab.

BOBBY: Alright.

CUT TO: TITLECARD: KEITH ROBINSON

Keith Robinson is sitting in a cab next to Colin Quinn. Keith is a black guy in his early 30’s. Colin is a tough looking Irishmen in his early 40’s.

COLIN: Don’t be nervous Keith. They’ll love you.

KEITH: It’s not the producers I’m worried about. I’m worried about them not taking me seriously.

COLIN: Why wouldn’t they take you seriously?

KEITH: This is Tough Crowd with Colin Quinn. Not Colin Quinn and his less established black friends.

COLIN looks at Keith without looking at him.

COLIN: Just be you at the Cellar.

KEITH: You want me to say nigga?

COLIN: No. I want you to be funny.

KEITH: I’m just saying Colin. They let Patrice on. One black man’s good enough for them.

COLIN: Will you get out of your own head. Don’t be the black guy stupid, I want you to be Keith.

KEITH: I’m just saying Colin, it’s a sympathy vote. If I get let on, it’s because they don’t want a lawsuit on their hands. They know I could sue.

COLIN: If you walk in expecting to be cut off, you might as well get out of the cab right now.

KEITH: I’m just saying man. It’s politics.

COLIN: What are you stupid? Heavy D from Platoon? You’re not getting your ass thrown around by Tom Berenger, you’re auditioning for a cheap, under produced panel show on a network that’s lucky enough to fail. They’ll take you if you’re a Bosnian war criminal let alone black.

KEITH: Just you wait Colin. They’re not looking for funny Keith.

CUT TO: INT: AUDITION ROOM

Colin and Keith are in a fairly compact office sitting at a desk opposite five producers. Three of them are black and two of them are white.

Black Producer #1: Your credentials?

KEITH looks at Colin, then back at the producer.

KEITH: My what now?

Black producer #1: Your credits. Things you’ve been on, pilots, commercials, radio… KEITH: I’ve done the Opie and Anthony show since they were taken off the air, , I do the Comedy Cellar every other night, the Improv, Carolines, that’s how I know Colin.

WHITE PRODUCER #1: Colin’s told us a lot about you. He says you’re very outspoken.

KEITH: I’ve been known to speak my opinion.

WHITE PRODUCER #1: Well Mr. Robinson

KEITH: Call me Keith.

WHITE PRODUCER #1: Alright…Keith, that’s what we want. You see, today’s demographic of television viewers have evolved. Instead of racial singularity, the common American is looking for more of a……… culturally diverse image.

KEITH: I get that. So if I were to take the political correctness out of your Ivy League mouth, you’re saying that the white man isn’t making his dollar bills off the cast of Friends anymore, so he’s trading in his Joey’s for our Antons. I got it.

WHITE PRODUCER #1: Well umm.. We-

BLACK PRODUCER #2: That’s exactly what he’s saying.

KEITH smirks.

KEITH: Well alright.

CUT TO: INT. CAB RIDE

Keith is sitting next to Colin.

KEITH: That went well.

COLIN: It did. But did you have to trash the two white people so badly?

KEITH: Majority rules Colin. Now you know how it feels.

COLIN: You’ll be on.

KEITH looks at COLIN pleased.

KEITH: Yeah?

COLIN: Oh yeah. The fact that you’re willing to go guns blazing in an office full of executive producers shows you have no problem looking like an idiot in front of a lot of people.

KEITH: Well I’ll be mistaken for a sucker. Looks like old Colin Quinn was right. I’d kiss those chapped irish lips of yours if I sucked cock.

COLIN: Believe me Robinson, I wouldn’t kiss you if your lips had the magical ability to convict O.J

KEITH looks at COLIN

KEITH: Hey, cut that down a tad bit. I’m your friend Colin, but my skin is still black.

COLIN: I wouldn’t have known, you’re hackier than a fatso making jokes about his digestive track.

The cab stops and Colin gets out.

COLIN: Do me a favor. Go to the cellar every night this week, bring a notepad, and start developing material. You’re an official heavy lifter Keith. Congrats. Get to fucking work.

The cab drives off and Colin watches after it with a slight smile on his face.

CUT TO: INT. COMEDY CELLAR: NIGHT

Back in the setting of the first scene, all the comics are just about finishing up their banter. Joe leaves with Bobby to get a cab, and Colin heads off to Carolines. Keith approaches a half empty table, with Rich, Patrice, Jim, and Greg still there.

GREG: Look who it is! The hundred dollar man!

KEITH smirks and sits at his usual spot.

RICH: Colin said you killed it in the audition room.

KEITH: I wouldn’t call it a killing. It was more of a wounding.

RICH: Wounding’s good enough. Let me tell you something Keith, you just gotta keep kicking them in the nuts.

PATRICE turns to Rich dumbfounded.

PATRICE: Did you just make that up?

RICH: I don’t know. Maybe I did.

PATRICE: Is that a yes or a no?

RICH: I could’ve heard it somewhere second hand. But yeah.

GREG: Rich Keep Kicking them in the Nuts is what Carlin tells everyone around here.

RICH: Well then maybe he heard it from me. I’m hip.

KEITH: Please explain to me how I’m not a regular yet this buffoon is?

JIM: He’s white.

KEITH smirks again and glances at the stage.

PATRICE: Keith man, you have to drop that bit about the soda can killer.

KEITH: Why would I do that?

PATRICE: It’s too long man. There’s a solid punch and tag during the second half, do you really need to talk about you arguing with your girlfriend?

KEITH: That’s part of the set. How could I get to me throwing a soda can out my window without explaining why I did it?

PATRICE: Do you know how you do it? Here. Watch. “I love coke. Really. I do. The only thing I love more than drinking it, is throwing it out car windows.” That’s your bit!!

JIM: Patrice only a vapid jizz bag would change their act to your recommendation.

PATRICE: It’s too long of a joke. Keith if I had a story about falling off a ski lift, would I talk about having an arguement with my ex girlfriend on the phone, if it has nothing to do with the story?

RICH: What the fuck are you talking about? It has everything to do with the story. What would make him so dumb or angry to fall off a ski lift? I don’t know. Maybe talking to his cunty spouse.

JIM: I’m with Patrice on this one. You want vested interest only if it has correlation with your joke.

KEITH: I wouldn’t have thrown the soda can out the window if I wasn’t angry at my girlfriend. That’s as crucial to the joke as anything else I might say. PATRICE: It’s a suggestion. Imagine what I said as a little yellow slip in your tin box head. (Laughing)

RICH: It’s more like a lunch pale.

JIM: I imagine it as one of those things birds eat from. What is it?

GREG: You’re thinking of a bird house Jimmy.

JIM: Yeah that’s it. I’m thinking of your head as a bird house.

KEITH: If I have a bird house between my shoulders, little Jimmy’s is a wax museum of Brazilian whores.

There’s much laughter at the table.

JIM: Really though Keith, in all seriousness, the execs would be absolute morons not to put you on. You’re as funny as any one of us.

KEITH: You mean that?

JIM: Now I don’t. The second that sincere bone in your body kicked in I withheld that compliment.

KEITH: Fuck Jimmy. There’s only two things I care about in this world. If I had to pair everything in this world in a top ten list, you’d be in the bottom thousand.

JIM: Along with all your money?