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Weiss Acres
Weiss Acres
Weiss Acres
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Weiss Acres

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Three words ... Jewish trailer park.

Weiss Acres is home to an eccentric, eclectic and always electric group of Jews who practice their faith under the ever-watchful, often-wild eyes of rabbi Yeshayahu Shapotshnick.

An innocent delivery of shawarmas sparks a romance between Fawzi Wazzabehr, a Lebanese cuisine transport technician, a.k.a. delivery guy ... and Minnie Hoffman, a very attractive blonde and mother of three in rabbi Shapotshnick's Weiss Acres shtetl (flock).

Shadey Shaawingah is Fawzi's uncle, owner and ogre of the Lebanese restaurant, Shaawingah Shawarma, on the Plaza Strip of Liberty Corner, New Jersey. When Shadey learns of Fawzi and Minnie's snap-crackling relationship, his inner fires for Lebanon burn out of control.

Fawzi catches wind of Shadey's plans to pave over Weiss Acres with a parking lot expansion. Shadey in turn, finds Fawzi in the Talmud Mobile ... the synagogue for Weiss Acres' wit and wisdom ... er, faith.

This is America. Or is it? What's a poor Shapotshnick to do?

LanguageEnglish
PublisherDavid Belisle
Release dateAug 7, 2014
ISBN9781311533616
Weiss Acres
Author

David Belisle

Dave Belisle is a Vietnam War draft dodger ... his mother escorting him north of the border at the tender age of 8. He's returned to Calgary -- not as a Stampede side show -- but to transform that Rocky Mountain air into raucous laughter ... give or take a foothill. There's no armistice on anecdotes, no flat tire in satire ... and your busted funny bone IS covered by Canadian health care.

Read more from David Belisle

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    Book preview

    Weiss Acres - David Belisle

    Weiss Acres

    Dave Belisle

    Copyright 2010 by Dave Belisle

    Smashwords Edition

    EXT. NEW YORK CITY -- DAY

    Opening credits roll over overhead shot of Ground Zero. Pull back and head west to New Jersey.

    SONNY (V.O.)

    I grew up Cat'lic in Coney Island. Nine eleven changed all dat. I was pissed ... but I 'ad to see what all da fuss was about. Well ... one t'ing led to anot'er .. an' ... I gots to ask ya ... if wit and wisdom was a religion, would ya sign up?

    (pause)

    I did. I'm Sonny Spagatini, car pool driver.

    (pause)

    Da great t'ing about it? Ya don't gotta be an Olympic swimmuh ... in dose wit' an' wisdom gene pools ...

    EXT. WEISS ACRES TRAILER PARK -- DAY

    Zeroing-in overhead shot of Liberty Corner, New Jersey, 40 miles west of the Big Apple. A dozen mobile trailers make up the Weiss Acres trailer court. We follow a lone car slowly moving through the trailer court.

    SONNY (V.O.)

    It kinda comes wit' da territory. Religiously so to speak.

    (pause)

    Hey, shalom and welcome to Weiss Acres.

    A badly scratched hand reaches for the back door of the beat-up Mercedes, opens it and ISAAC DOC GREENBERG, (50s, meek and balding) climbs into the back seat beside BENNY PEARLMAN (30, slim, over-eager). On the other side of Pearlman sits ELI GOLDMAN (28, overweight). SONNY SPAGATINI (50s, brash and hairy) is in the driver's seat. MOSES HOROWITZ (65, feeble) rides shotgun. They all wear yamulkes.

    Sonny pulls back onto the road and drives past the mobile homes of Weiss Acres. A street sign at the intersection names the two streets: YAVNEH AVENUE and LUBAVITCH LANE. The aluminum siding of the trailers sparkle. They're neatly kept, with small, well-manicured lawns. Sonny eyes Doc in the rear view mirror.

    SONNY (CONT'D)

    What ya doin' in the city today, Doc?

    DOC

    Acquiring various sundries.

    BENNY

    For his patients.

    (pause)

    They really don't deserve you, Doc.

    DOC

    Why, thank you, Benny.

    SONNY

    You can get dat stuff at da corner store, y'know.

    Doc stares out the window.

    DOC

    You don't understand.

    SONNY

    What's your mark up, anyway?

    DOC

    That ... is privileged information.

    Sonny dances his hands on the steering wheel.

    SONNY

    Doctor-Patient Confidential ... Whatta card!

    Sonny's eyes move in the rear view mirror over to Benny.

    SONNY (CONT'D)

    Hittin' the Diamond District today, Benny?

    Hard stare from Benny in the mirror back at Sonny.

    SONNY (CONT'D)

    Not fer nuttin' ... Y'know, you should really try --

    BENNY

    E-Bay. Yeah, yeah. I know, I know.

    SONNY

    Well?

    All eyes are on Benny.

    BENNY

    I don't trust them.

    SONNY

    For cryin' out loud, Benny. We're talkin' costume jewelry!

    A smirk from Doc. Eli stifles a chuckle. His face falls silent as Sonny finds him in the rear view mirror.

    SONNY (CONT'D)

    Where you ... uh ... shootin' today, Eli?

    ELI

    (softly)

    Central Park.

    SONNY

    What's dat?

    ELI

    I said Central Park.

    SONNY

    So dat's where Angelina Jolie's gonna be today.

    It's Eli's turn to look out the window.

    SONNY (CONT'D)

    Is Brad lookin' after da kids? How many dey got now? She's gotta have more tattoos than a drunken sailor.

    Eli mouths the words to more tattoos than a drunken sailor as Sonny says them. It's a familiar refrain.

    SONNY (CONT'D)

    I'm still waitin' for my picture of Olivia Newton-John.

    Chuckles from the others.

    ELI

    Yeah? Well you can keep waiting. She's in Australia, ya schmuck.

    Sonny laughs loudly.

    ELI (CONT'D)

    Go ahead and laugh. I hope you have a coronary.

    SONNY

    You slay me.

    Sonny gets it under control. He looks beside him at Moses. The old man immediately shifts his gaze straight ahead. He fumbles nervously with his hat in his lap.

    SONNY (CONT'D)

    How's Hazel?

    Everybody laughs but Moses. His lips twitch but stay tightly shut.

    SONNY (CONT'D)

    Okay, okay. Where's da Great Escape to today, Moses?

    Moses turns abruptly to Sonny.

    MOSES

    How much did she pay you last time to tell her where I was?

    SONNY

    Hey ... now DAT'S privileged information!

    The Mercedes exits Weiss Acres Trailer Court and makes a right to head east. The car passes the Shaawingah Shawarma restaurant beside Weiss Acres just as FAWZI WAZZABEHR (26, lanky, handsome, Lebanese) pulls into the parking lot in the restaurant's delivery car, a Honda Civic.

    The restaurant is at an intersection. The large neon sign at the southwest corner of the intersection and front right of the restaurant reads: SHAAWINGAH SHAWARMA / DRINKS ON US HERE!

    INT. FAWZI'S CAR -- CONTINUOUS

    A gold Maronite cross hangs from the rear-view mirror. The quick, electro-Arabic fusion beat of Guy Manoukian plays on the CD player. Fawzi strums the steering wheel as he pulls into a parking spot. He wears a Rise Against T-shirt, jeans and Pumas. A Yankee baseball cap sits backwards on his head.

    Fawzi zips open the money pouch at his waist and pulls out a five-dollar bill from other change and bills. He opens up the glove compartment and takes out a brochure and small leather money pouch.

    The brochure promises an exciting career in the armed forces. Fawzi studies the pamphlet briefly. He opens the pouch and puts the five bucks in with other crumpled bills. He zips it up and returns the pouch and brochure to the glove compartment ... and the money clip to his

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