Smoking Crayons

[Scene is a cocktail party at a fancy house with pool and hot tub in the background. Camera pans in on two guys standing apart from the crowd and talking.]

First guy: Man, things haven't been going so well for me. The boss is bustin' my hump, my dog growls at me when I come home, and I haven't had a date in weeks.
[He takes a furtive drag on his crayon. Camera zooms in on the label; it's a K-Mart brand "Sea Blue". Wax drips off the end and spatters his shoes.]

[Camera pans over to his friend]
Second guy: Say, Bob, I think I know what your problem is - it's your brand of crayon.

[Reaction shot from first guy, who looks up in surprise]
First guy: Really? 'Cause Maxim said that these cut-rate crayons project an image of 'edginess' - they let people know I'm a 'bad boy' who likes to 'take risks'. I have to admit they don't pack much of a buzz, though.

Second guy: How many times have I told you to stop reading that crap? Take a tip from me - go Crayola. Crayola Turquoise. Always smooth, never bitter - and chicks dig 'em. Watch this.

[He snaps open a chrome crayon box and extracts a Crayola Turquoise, holding it against the mirrored case while the camera zooms in to catch its rich lustre and attractive paper wrapper. He lights up and takes a long, satisfying drag.]

Second guy: "Aaaaaaah. Nothing like a [he raises his voice] Crayola Turquoise."

[Suddenly, a half-dozen hot chicks appear from nowhere and surround him, pushing first guy out of the way. As they start caressing him and removing his clothes, he flicks the crayon butt at first guy. It sticks to his shirt, which starts to catch fire.]

Second guy: See what I mean?

[Fade out on hot chicks dragging guy toward the hot tub. Screen fades to black and fades in with the chrome crayon box, a single Turquoise laying suggestively at its base. Text fades in:]

Crayola Turquoise. Chicks Dig 'Em.

¶ Thursday, August 18, 2005