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    The Funny Robbers
    The Funny Robbers
    The Funny Robbers
    Ebook194 pages2 hours

    The Funny Robbers

    By Brian Evans and Dan O'Leary

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    About this ebook

    When four down on their luck comedian's are forced to begin touring small comedy clubs again after spending years in arena's, all hell breaks lose when a bank CEO extorts them into robbing banks in the cities that they are performing in.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherBookBaby
    Release dateJun 26, 2015
    ISBN9781483555973
    The Funny Robbers
    Author

    Brian Evans

    Brian Evans was born in a maternity hospital on the site of one of Henry VIII's hunting lodges on an old route from London into Essex. He has spent most of his life in the borderland between the metropolis and the historic county of Essex. Fascinated by local history since childhood, he is a member of several local history societies in the area and is the editor of the annual publication of the Romford Society. He has written several books of pictorial local history.

    Read more from Brian Evans

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      Book preview

      The Funny Robbers - Brian Evans

      Henry

      Chapter 1

      Excitement filled the air backstage at the Gibson Amphitheatre, located at Universal Studios. About two hundred industry executives and hangers-on roamed the corridors as they all anticipated comedian Lincoln Colpitts’ departure from his dressing room. Over the last three years, the comedian used the Internet to launch his career with videos on YouTube that had reached millions of views, thus turning him into a global sensation.

      The crowd that gathered directly in front of Lincoln’s dressing room gave the appearance of a book signing, despite the crowd primarily consisting of entertainment professionals. A security guard with Universal stood at front of the door.

      I need some help down here, the security man said into his radio. These people are animals!

      The security guard stood alone as flowers and a packaged DVD of the comedian in concert were stuck in his face.

      He’s not signing anything, people. He’s got a show to do and you all need to step back, please! said the guard.

      A short man with greying hair approached the man. The man, named Ira Derdiger, was a well-known manager in Hollywood; his face was familiar even to the security guard.

      Hey, buddy, Ira said to the security guard, so are you an actor?

      The commotion of hands in front of the guards face made it difficult to have a one-on-one conversation with anybody, but he knew very well who this executive was.

      And in Hollywood…everyone was an actor.

      Yes, I am, he said to Ira as he continued to push hands out of his face.

      Back the heck up! the security guard said to everyone else as Ira just stood there.

      I need you… to let me in there. Here’s my card, and if you permit me this moment, I will make certain that you get an under-five on a new TV series that I’m producing, said Ira.

      The security man took the card then shook his head indicating that he agreed, as he opened the door behind him and permitted Ira into the man’s dressing room.

      Don’t get me in any trouble here, sir. I’ll hit you up, the guard said as he continued to push other fans aside.

      Three other security guards came to the rescue, assisting the lonely guard in bringing order in front of the great Lincoln Colpitts’ dressing room.

      Inside that room sat Max Harris, the tour manager for Colpitts. It had been well established that Colpitts was having management issues, and in Hollywood, waste not, want not. Derdiger saw an opening and he intended to take it. Few managers had his pull to be able to walk into a concert venue, demand to see the headliner, and then walk right into the star’s dressing room.

      Colpitts was in the restroom as Ira scoped the room.

      He’s here? asked Ira.

      In the shitter, replied Max.

      I hear he’s in need of management, a real manager, replied Ira.

      Max smiled.

      You don’t miss a beat, do you? Max replied.

      I’m just here to help, replied Ira with a smile. And if you help me, I’m sure there are a few things I can do for you. Tour managers, after all, need stability. A solid manager could make certain that Lincoln Colpitts doesn’t end up with a new tour manager. I think it’s important… for him.

      Max stood up and poured himself a drink.

      Would you like one? said Max.

      No thanks, I don’t drink when I’m at work, replied Ira.

      Ah…and you’re at work, said Max.

      Ira smiled.

      I’m always at work.

      Lincoln walked out of the bathroom. He recognized Ira from Daily Variety articles although he had never personally met the man. The door of his dressing room slowly opened as comedians Carrot Top and David Walker walked in.

      Both Carrot Top and David Walker had clashed with Ira in the past. While they knew him to be a successful personal manager in the industry, they also knew he was a bit of a sleaze. At that moment, however, Lincoln Colpitts was the rock star in comedy and the two were unsure of Ira’s connection with Lincoln. They decided to stay quiet on the subject.

      Lincoln lit up with a huge smile when he saw the two comedians walk in.

      Let’s talk later, said Lincoln to Ira. CT! David! Thanks for coming guys!

      Just then, the door to the dressing room opened yet again. This time, it was security.

      Five minutes, Mr. Colpitts, said the guard who had allowed Ira to enter the room.

      Lincoln nodded in acknowledgement.

      So, what have you guys been doing? Do you do stand-up anymore?

      Carrot Top and David Walker just looked at one another.

      On occasion, Carrot Top said with a bewildered look upon his face.

      Hey, has anyone ever punched you in the face before? asked Walker.

      Carrot Top looked with surprise at Walker before turning to Lincoln Colpitts.

      Ever? Carrot Top questioned the superstar.

      Chapter 2

      Have you ever heard the phrase: ‘what a load of shit’? asked David Walker as he sat down in Carl Shapiro’s office. Carl was a manager to the great comedians, who had brought to light the talents of some of the most famous joke tellers in the world.

      Comedians Carrot Top, Pauly Ocean, and Jon Lott sat on the mahogany couch across from Carl’s desk as David stood by the front entrance door to his office.

      I mean, come on man. You invite us to that moron’s comedy show to rub it in our face that we aren’t doing shit. It had been some time since all four comedians had the same fame they once did.

      No, I did not have you go to that show for that reason. I had you go to that show so you would be inspired, Carl said.

      Really? As far as I could tell, the only inspiring person was your boy, Ira Derdiger.

      Carl looked down at his desk. It was no surprise to him that Ira Derdiger would be trying to swoop down on Lincoln Colpitts, the latest Internet sensation to come down the pike, earning him millions of dollars along with those millions of views.

      We aren’t here to talk about my other clients, David. We’re here to talk about the four of you. We’re here to talk about what we are going to do with your careers. Giving me your normal attitude may work great for your comedy routines, but in this office I’m the guy that can’t sleep. I’m the guy who is up twenty-four hours a day trying to find you a gig while you’re licking Jack Daniel’s off the tits of strippers, said Carl feeling a bit steamed. Did it ever occur to you that I like tits too? I love tits! They’re round, juicy, and scream out to the world ‘Hello!’ But no, I don’t get the luxury of tits.

      David looked at his three cohorts as they sat emotionless, almost in shock. Even David was having a hard time coming up with a smart-ass retort for this one.

      Uhm… yeah. I see what you’re saying in a weird are-you-outta-your-mind-and-need-a-mud-bath sorta way, replied David.

      Carl stood up and walked around the desk.

      Listen, you boys need to get back out there. You are each waiting for me to make your phone ring and it’s never gonna ring if you’re never available to do anything. CT texts me messages from the Alps wondering why he’s not working! Jon here is waiting for his TV series, which isn’t happening, Jon! And you, Pauly, when you’re not picking fights or smacking some guy around whose mad at you for hitting on his girlfriend, you’re at the race track with a girl whose husband will eventually be mad!

      CT broke his silence.

      Well what are you telling us, exactly? he said, glancing at Jon and Pauly.

      Carl sat on the front of his desk. His crotch was a little too close to Carrot Top’s line of vision, so he moved to his left to remove himself from the sort of aim that only the cerebral mind could imagine.

      I mean, we don’t do Internet things, said Lot."

      Pauly Ocean sat quietly, texting a girl he’d met earlier that night.

      Pauly! yelled Carl. Snap out of it! None of these girls are going to be interested in a guy who can’t pay his rent!

      Spill it, Carl, said Walker.

      The four of you need to get back out there on the road, said Carl. Your name in lights! Crowds lining up! Getting a buzz! That’s what you need. You all need a buzz again. People need to be inspired! All they see now are random shots in the National Enquirer of CT skiing or Pauly hitting on some girl. Or of David pissing someone off. Or you…

      Carl looked at Jon sitting angelically.

      "Or you looking… I don’t know… caring."

      CT looked like he was giving that one some thought.

      I have an idea, and I think it will be great for all of you. So hear me out and tell me what you think, said Carl.

      We can hardly wait, said David.

      Carl gave David a quick smile. He knew David wasn’t going to like anything he had to say.

      There is going to be a charity event for Feed the Dolphins. The four of you can show up and bounce some jokes off each other. It’ll be great! No one has ever seen the four of you perform at the same event and people will love it. It’s for a good cause, said Carl.

      Feed the Dolphins? said CT.

      Dolphins are hungry? asked Pauly, finally breaking his silence.

      The point is, this is your opportunity to be funny again. Make people laugh! The tables up front are running something like $10,000 eachand the place is sold out, so a lot of people are going to be at this thing. It was founded by the ex-wife of a former client. He left her millions. This is a way to get you all in front of the right people, explained Carl.

      Yeah, but… dolphins are hungry? asked Pauly.

      Who gives a shit about the dolphins, Pauly! We’re talking about the four of you doing what it is you do. You’ve all been so focused on maintaining your celebrity that you’ve forgotten what put you there: being funny. Every time I see your faces you all look miserable. The National Enquirer isn’t paying your bills. None of this shit pays your bills.

      So what do you propose? inquired CT.

      For once, listen to me. What’s the point of paying me 15% if none of you listen to a word of advice I give you? said Carl.

      CT got up from the couch and walked over to a wall decorated with photos of Carl posing with famous comedians.

      Do you think anything will come from this? asked CT.

      Carl approached CT and placed a hand on his shoulder.

      Listen, if people don’t see you perform, what else can work? Just being you isn’t enough. They want to see what made them love you in the first place. So if you do this event, I can then arrange a stand-up comedy tour for you guys, said Carl.

      David rolled his eyes.

      Oh, great. We’re gonna be the stand-up comedy tour that’s been done a thousand times. I’ve seen all those tacky tours where people are watching those guys in arenas. It’s humiliating, said David.

      Carl slowly approached David.

      Yes, David. Maybe you’ll find it a tad humiliating to share the spotlight, but you know what? Those tacky tours, are, indeed being held in arenas, said Carl.

      This appeared to shut David up.

      David looked up at the ceiling, then quickly at Carrot Top, Jon Lott, and Pauly Ocean.

      OK, Carl. I’m in, said David.

      Carl then looked at his other three clients.

      I’m in, said Jon.

      OK, said CT.

      Everyone looked at Pauly.

      Dolphins are hungry?

      Chapter 3

      I want to punch myself in the face, said David.

      Well, if you need any help… replied Carrot Top as they stood in a tent behind the outdoor stage set up on the Third Street Promenade.

      Carl walked in, clapping his hand together once. Great, great, great! Look at all of you! You all showed up! You’re on time. Memories!

      Were we late before? said Carrot Top.

      Ignoring the question, Carl walked over to Jon and Pauly who were enjoying the food that had been prepared for the entertainers.

      Are you boys ready to get out there and be funny again? asked Carl.

      I can hardly wait, Pauly said, deadpan.

      Jon smiled.

      I swear, this is gonna be an appearance to remember! You guys are gonna kill it! Um, how do young people say it these days… super-stoked! It’s gonna be sick! We’re gonna take it to the moon!

      Young people don’t say they’re gonna take it to the moon, Carl, explained Carrot Top. Jackie Gleason, maybe, but I don’t think—

      Silence! exclaimed Carl. "Today is going to be the start of an all new you, CT! An

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