The Skillz Report

Hooray For Family! (June 30, 2018)

 

I'm due to pick up Josie from her mom at a BART station; my uncle is inexplicably furious that I'm even sharing custody at all. At the BART station, the machine gives me my ticket...then spits out $26 dollars and a load of tokens along with it. With no one around to deal with the issue, I pocket the goods and walk off...only to be confronted by a BART supervisor shortly after rounding the corner.
"I'm no thief...but here's the money." I sternly declare. Then the whole setup changes and now I must pick up my ex's car and drop it off somewhere. At first I have difficulty working the long gearshift, putting me in the wrong lane and forcing me into an illegal left that I promptly get pulled over for.

Fortunately for me, at that very moment my aunt and two cousins crash in the median and the cop tends to them. Freedom!
The vision ends with a strange scene of Shaggy licking Scooby-Doo.

 

 

Please Don't Be A Commie, Please Don't Be A Commie... (June 29, 2018)

 

After losing a friendly wrestling math to some big-armed dude, I find myself looking for a Sports Authority inside a strip mall. Following the row of stores to the end puts me in some guy's office; he agrees to direct me if I'll vote for him. (I agree, despite having no idea who he is or what he's trying to get elected to.)

Turns out the Sports Authority is across the busy outside road. I go there, and the place is about the size of a waiting room. Disappointed, I only buy sweatbands and smooch the clerk for no reason.

 

 

Uh...Commercials? (June 28, 2018)

 

IRL sports radio host Bonta Hill accompanies me on a walk to McDonald's; our sports banter is so natural, we're put on the air somehow as performing a show. Everything's flowing smoothly until we reach our destination, at which time he walks right into the McDonald's employee area and totally abandons me without a word...dang.

 

 

Wasting Food IS A Crime (June 27, 2018)

 

I'm in class, picking out a question off a website's dropdown box to ask GIants broadcaster Dave Flemming. I choose "You ever killed anyone?" I'm told that question is inappropriate and was left over from a previous page. Which sucks, because Flemming seemed prepared to effusively answer.
He does talk about the first major leaguer he ever met: it was the 1975 World Series, standing room only, and he met "Carl Yastrzemski or somebody" on the field.

Continuing the Giants broadcaster theme, I become Duane Kuiper; my partner Mike Krukow leaves the room during a commercial break, during which time my mom asks me to load a box of tomatoes into her car. I try to pass the task off to a trainee waiting near the car, but he's useless, and those extra seconds cause me to be late returning on-air. Flemming is not happy and takes little shots at me during his commentary.

Next, I'm sitting under an umbrella with my IRL ex. In character as the umbrella, I lay on the cheese: "You know, I never got OVER you." She can't help but laugh.

Skip to a Ju Jitsu class; I'm slated to record the events until learning an unidentified student wants to punch me in the back and possibly continue beating me. I leave, slithering through a birthday party setup avoiding spilled plates as well as CSI's Marg Helgenberger looking for clues. 

I turn up at a community college with limited exits. At the entrance, I tell a lackey that ex-big leaguer Paul O'Neill moved off campus due to burp complaints (whose burps?) and I want answers. She has me fill out a form, which I do incorrectly, but charge inside anyway.
Inside, lackey #2 reads the form. Though it's wrong, he thinks burps are funny and allows me a meeting with the dean once I show him my credit card. Turns out the dean is another ex-big leaguer Pete Incaviglia, who's not in (although a very large woman sits behind his desk and a rather small one sits on the floor in front of it). One of Pete's colleagues does give me a nice book, so there's that.

 

 

Want Some More Useless Trivia? (June 25, 2018)

 

For whatever reason, I arrive at Wal-Mart with one of their delivery employees who speaks little English. I direct him to the restroom in the back corner, return to the car to shut off the inside lamp, return inside, and pass a dude who got a ball stuck atop a light fixture and is foolishly jumping on a glass counter to reach it. 

Once near the restroom, I grab a towel for no reason and meander around unti my "pal" emerges. We take a side door and I'm motivated to tell a young employee "This used to be a Mervyn's!" Turns out she's lived nearby her whole life and this isn't news. Me: "I'll just shut up then." She laughs, I leave—but my tag-along has disappeared. Oh, well.
In the parking lot, I exchange texts with some dude. I'm talking about past girlfriends, he's talking about past kills. No longer comfortable, I white-out my last message and disconnect.

 

 

Is She Leading Me To Gold??? (June 24, 2018)

 

It's early in the morning and I'm at a shop trying to buy ice-cream. The guy gives me ice cream, plus a sandwich and drink—I'm too busy to argue and just pay for it. Then, for unexplained reasons, I follow soap star Erika Slezak on the freeway; she's in a vehicle, and I'm jogging in the center lane behind her. 
Realizing I can't keep up for long, I jump onto an open (and moving) trailer, securing myself inside with giant velcro straps. Safety is not my middle name.

 

 

The Cold Obviously Doesn't Bother Her (June 21, 2018)

 

At KFC, I mistakenly walk up to the wrong window to order...embarrassment. Once corrected, a young Billy Dee Williams-type takes my order, following it up with "smooth talk" that makes barely any sense and just confuses me. For some reason, I don't want him to think I wasn't listening and don't ask for a repeat. Billy Dee gives me a lone piece of chicken to munch on while I wait.

 

As I stand there, Billy Dee speaks inaudibly with a cute female worker, who then exits the workspace and passes me en route to the can. Convinced they were talking about me, coupled with the previous wrong-window embarrassment...I decide on a whim to just bounce with my lone piece of chicken; screw the money.

 

I drive off and eventually meet up with Katy Perry in a rather short Elsa dress (not that I'm complaining). We round up a group of accented kids and enter some village—where kids are apparently not allowed. The kids are in plain view but nobody seems to mind at first...until a couple of them start speaking. A terrifying look befalls one of the elders, but I awaken before he strikes us with lightning or something. Goodbye, Katy's legs.

 

 

Ouch! My Ego!! (June 20, 2018)

 

It's the Super Bowl; Warriors coach Steve Kerr gives us a halftime speech, trying and failing to tie basketball terms in with football. Still, the guys listen and play hard—I make a diving interception, then later bat down a pass and intercept it as well. I fully expect to win game MVP, but the award is shared with Colin Kaepernick and some other offensive player who's not even wearing a uniform.  They stand joyously atop the podium as I seethe nearby, vowing to fake injury if ever again in the Super Bowl.

 

Yeah, that'll show 'em.

 

 

Aren't You Supposed To Be In Carolina? (June 19, 2018)

 

My aunt and her grandson (my cousin) have moved to sunny San Diego. I go to visit, and said cousin suplexes his granny through a wooden room divider—auntie can't stop laughing at the "prank". My father is also present, much to my chagrin, so I just pretend not to see him or hear anything he says. Eventually we all decide to visit Petco Park (home of the San Diego Padres).

 

The three aforementioned relatives are magically replaced by my friends Tammy and Luke, plus Luke's mama. After some troubles convincing Mama Luke I'm not stealing their car, we head to the ballpark and start to snap photos before entering...until I spot a giant dead panther on the shoreline looking right at me. Luke is not at all bothered (even inspecting the animal close-up), but I'm OUT.

 

Making my way back to aunt's place, I start packing my stuff, only to find out some little girl was reading bottomless and peed all over my preferred towel...ick.

 

 

Can't Put A Price On Ass (June 18, 2018)

 

This is one of my favorites of 2018, maybe a dark horse Hall-of-Fame candidate.

 

Things begin with me in some type of care room, with a Warriors-shirted patient wishing me good luck (in the game) tonight, kick butt, etc. I assure him I'll do my best, then head for the court—apparently I'm a Warriors player.

 

My teammates consist of three random dudes and a Jane Lynch-type chick; the game starts and I miss two easy scores but do immediately put them back in. "Lynch" scores a hoop as well and we lead 6-0. Is it not until that time that we realize we actually do not have any opponents—there's only the five of us on the court.

A couple of teen girls emerge from the stands to challenge us, but ultimately the game is postponed.

 

With my day now free, I join up with actress Marg Helgenberger and some unnamed fellow; we debate who the best all-time glasses-wearing black comedian is. I name Cedric The Entertainer, they toss some names around. I ask, "Did Bill Cosby ever wear glasses?" The guy mishears that as a question about Barack Obama—which prompts me to begin my Obama-the-Comedian act:

 

ME (as Obama): "My fellow Americans...if you can overlook the amendment that keeps me from being President again...I promise you this, that I will work as hard as it takes...to get a piece of ass for everyone."

 

(Marg and dude bust out laughing)

 

ME (as Obama): "Muthaf----s need booty."

DUDE (as adviser): "But Mr. President, how do you plan to fit that in the budget?"

ME (as Obama): "F---the budget!"

 

(Marg is about to pass out laughing)

 

After scenes involving Kelly and Peg Bundy trying to outsexy each other, an odd Super Mario stage, and me purchasing toy blocks from the elderly Lieutenant Gayne's yard, things shift to me at a credit union with my mom and child.

 

Inside, I spot a former friend I do not want to see, and duck out to the building lobby, faking sleep on a bench near a fountain (hey, if I can't see her, she can't see me!). Security begins to hassle me until I reveal what I'm up to—seconds later, this friend (now INV obese with pink hair) waddles out of the CU and out of the building. The security guy describes her as "athletic", triggering an eye-roll.

 

 

Caminar Como Un Egipcio (June 16, 2018)

 

I'm a Golden State Warrior, playing Game 7 of the NBA Finals vs. the Houston Rockets (currently impossible IRL). I score 11 points in the first half, including two hoops with the lights prematurely shut off. Clint Capela of the Rockets is hilariously angry that he didn't swat one of my shots (that missed anyway).

The second half starts with 1:30 left and is now a video game instead of actual humans. JaVale McGee—IRL Warrior, INV Rocket—hits two short J's to beat the Warriors. My response to the tough loss? Pouting and listening to Katy Perry's "Chained To The Rhythm".

 

Next, my mom is giving my kid too many kisses and I'm forced to angrily put a cap on it. She violates said cap a minute later with asinine excuses ("I didn't understand what you meant").

 

Lastly, the classic 80's song "Walk Like An Egyptian" is being performed live onstage by the Bangles...except they are now very fat and singing entirely in Spanish.

 

 

It's Identity BORROWING, Not Theft! (June 15, 2018)

 

At 5:30am sharp, I report to my delivery job. Time passes in a blur and at 3:00pm, I arrive at a stop to drop off anti-freeze. Problem is, the customer is having unclear difficulties "installing" it, and I'm stuck there til 6:00pm.

Glancing at my manifest, five hours of stops remain—and instead of delivering product, I'm now picking up and dropping off elderly people, right across the street in one case. After a few of these, I ask to go home—not particularly feeling the 17.5-hour workday.

 

My wish granted, I stop at a convenience store and, for some reason, use the clerk's name to claim a radio prize. After the station rep picks me up and drives around a bit—and not seeming too eager to surrender my prize—he realizes I'm not the name I entered, stops the car immediately and voids my entry. Stupid clerk with his stupid badge on...

 

 

Cut The Cord. Then Yourself. Repeatedly. (June 14, 2018)

 

SEGMENT 1

 

At my INV new job, I find myself carrying the actress Gillian Anderson into the building (wedding threshhold style). Inside, I'm advised to just go along with whatever the office alpha dog does/says—he's a flagrant sexual harrasser, lies about his financials, and is overall a slimy idiot. But I follow the advice—when he goes around running his hands up various bare legs in the area, I do the same to Anderson...can't say it was terrible.

Alpha Dude then has me watch a recorded tennis game—apparently some time back, this clown thought it'd be funny to dump his small children right on the court of his wife's important match. In fact, he still laughs at the video as I begin to simmer inside.

After catching Alpha cheating at a foosball-type game in the rec room, we join some parolees on the lawn outside. Alpha boasts about his (fictional) prison stint, which according to him was spent in a county jail because he's apparently just that rad. He also shares a steal of a deal he got on some electronics—not realizing he was supposedly serving his "prison term" when the deal allegedly went down...I choose to let the lie live.

 

Segment 1 ends with actress Mariska Hargitay shooting hoops outback in an overcoat. She sinks the first before laying bricks.

 

 

SEGMENT 2

 

I decide to hire a stripper-type to bring the shy son of an IRL friend out of his shell. "See? It's okay!" I tell the boy as I rub on the gal. When she had the audacity to compliment the kid, IRL friend Maria—who ISN'T his mama—flips out, until I give her a compliment and point out the similarities.

Skip to the softball diamond; my regular crew is joined by a couple of first-timers—a middle-aged dad and his teenage boy. The dad annoys me by ONLY hitting grounders up the middle; the kid annoys me by being the worst fielder in the history of California. If that's not bad enoough, the dad's parents are on the field coaching and encouraging their very-adult son. I instantly lose all respect for the bastard.

When things wrap, the dad says goodbye as I leave the field...which I ignore. "Oh, come on Skillz, why you gotta ignore me?" he asks. So I answer him: "I don't like you. F--- you." (Words I've only used on a couple of people IRL.) Naturally, he assumes I'm joking and chuckles as I continue on...dumbass.

 

 

It'll Take Some Getting Used To...(June 11, 2018)

 

We begin with a "retro" Simpsons episode, set in the mid-80's and starring Fran Drescher, Phil Hartman and Bette Midler as narrators. I force my family to watch and suffer serious pangs of nostalgia as the 80's music/sights/fashion takes stage. We learn the New York Mets are officially changing their name to..the New York Mets, with new strange uniforms and an on-field roller coaster to commmorate the "change".

Next, me and two former IRL Spanish classmates (neither of whom I was friends with) ride the bus. A young boy next to me has a runny nose, and when I try to assist him, he alerts all within earshot "He got a toolbox!" Referring to me. The bus immediately stops and all nails are confiscated from my box (but not screws or anything else sharp)...thanks, you little snot.

 

 

I Wanna Show Her The Hard Wood (June 10, 2018)

 

My kitchen floor tiles are cracked and damaged; I call the landlord for repairs and when I return to the scene, Alex Rodriguez is already working on them. He does a good job, but shuns my attempt to thank and praise him—instead looking around the place for "any women" to see his work.

 

 

At Least The Bed's Used For SOMETHING (June 9, 2018)

 

IRL friend "Jan" and I reunite, with me in football pads for some reason. She tells me of being up 641 consecutive hours; I express disbelief so she ditches our reunion to go bang some dude from middle school.

Others linger, so I show off my birthday baseball card song with accompanying card trick. Nobody cares. In response, I resign from this "job" and leave, passing three random frantic punks as well as Warriors star Andre Iguodala, who looks on from the parking lot as if to say "that fool ain't got no job".

 

 

Let A Brotha Know Next Time! (June 8, 2018)

 

My IRL ex calls me to her house out of the blue—she's moving and apparently wants some sex to mark the occasion, although I'm not told that. Apparently certain I'll comply, she gets all her relatives out of the house, only to anger when she learns I stopped by without showering (how was I to know what she wanted?!) 

Said ex abandons me in the kitchen, where I do what any normal person would do and begin using the kitchen toilet. Of course, various relatives of hers pass through as I'm dropping that deuce...lucky them.

 

 

 

Where's Your Supermanners? (June 7, 2018)

 

Late at night, I drive out to nowhere to retrieve my mom and two IRL acquaintances. Returning down the dark highway, my mom complains about my route one time too many until I finally pull over and abandon everyone. On foot, I encounter past Superman portrayers Dean Cain and Brandon Roush, evidently heading to some private convention...they charge past without even looking up, nary a word. RUDE!

I wind up in a grocery store where business carries on as usual despite rushing water quickly filling the premises.

 

 

Death, Death, Out Of Breath (June 4, 2018)

 

The 1250 is restored and I move back in. First order of business: browsing the web, where I read a story of a dead pregnant chick being cradled by her shocked partner. She's beautiful in her accompanyng "alive" photo, so I creepily use it as my wallpaper.
Dinner is served, and I learn my kid's cornbread was cooked with bugs in the mix. I down it anyway.

Next, I'm at some formal event, where multiple people give unsolicited tips on counseling a kid who's running around sad for no obvious reason.
Finally, two long-ago broken-up IRL friends have reunited against all odds. But the celebration is cut short when a natural disaster kills their dog, my cousin's dog and a number of other dogs who are somehow memoralized on the news within seconds.