Tall Tales To Go Fan Fiction
Fan Fiction Fiction and More Miscellany Home Page Contact

 !  The Perils of Janeane, part 2

The Many Misadventures of Little Myth JG
An Original Comic Adventure Series By

George "Rusty" Datt

** Note - Terms used in these adventure scripts:
O.S. = Off Screen
V.O. = Voice Over
EST = Establishing Shot
INT = Interior
EXT = Exterior
POV = Point Of View
INSERT = A Camera Shot Usually Focusing On An Object



A yellow taxi drives onto a passenger unloading section of LaGuardia and comes to a stop.

Janeane gets out of the back seat wearing a muscle shirt. Her right shoulder tattoo is clearly visible and her blonde hair is in even worse shape than it was earlier. She hoists a flight bag over her shoulder and starts to head for the door, obviously in a hurry.

Instantly, the taxi driver barks at her.

Hey, lady! What about my fare?


My fare, lady. You owe me 24 dollars.

(counting out remaining change
and handing it to the driver)
Hey, look, I'm in a real hurry here,
okay? I'll catch you on the return
trip. How about that?

Janeane starts to walk away.

Instantly, the fellow hops out of his cab and starts to come around the front of the vehicle towards her.

Seeing the taxi driver won't give up, Janeane reaches into her bag and produces a slip of paper and a pen. She scribbles something on the paper and hands it to the angry driver.

What's this?

It's an autographed picture. I
contribute them to celebrity auctions
all the time. This is my favorite pose.
It was taken at the Aspen Comedy Festival,
and I'm wearing my Siberian fur coat
with matching Cossack hat and horn-rimmed
glasses. I'm sure you can get at least
twenty-four bucks for that, so what do
you say we call it even?

(looking at picture and comparing it to
Janeane) Give me a break, pal. You female
impersonators can't fool me.

No, I am Janeane Garofalo. Don't you
recognize me?

Sure you are, pal, sure you are. Give me
a break. Janeane Garofalo would never
have hair like that.

Janeane turns away, but the driver catches her by the arm.

Wait a minute, lady -- er, mister. This
ain't gonna cut it. I've got to have money.
Company rules.

Janeane tries to pry his fingers from her right arm but he is too strong.

Let go of me, you Bourgeoisie oppressor
of working women!
(starts yelling)
Help! Help!

A businessman walks up carrying a briefcase and wearing a three-piece suit.

Hey, what's going on here?

She owes me twenty-four dollars for fare
and won't pay up.

Janeane looks in desperation at the businessman.

I told him I'd have it for him. I'm
going to work right now.

The businessman eyes her carefully, puts down his briefcase, reaches for his wallet, and pulls out some bills.

Here. I'll take care of it.

Janeane's jaw drops. She is absolutely amazed. The taxi driver lets go of her arm and takes the money. Then, he returns to his cab.

Oh, thank you every so much, sir.
You are a real gentleman. I didn't
think any of those still existed.
(shouting after the cab driver)
Fascist pig! I hope Bush raises the
price of gas so high, you end up
pulling a rickshaw!
(turning to the businessman)
How can I ever repay you, sir?

The businessman looks a little nervous. He speaks to her in a low voice.

So, how's your schedule? Can you
fit me in?

Janeane knits her brow in confusion.

I beg your pardon?

I'm staying at the Airport Sheraton. I
have a meeting at 3:00 this afternoon,
but nothing until then. What's your rate?

Janeane's mouth drops open in horror as she realizes what he is saying.

Wha . . . what? I . . . I'll have
you know that I'm a professional!

(looking about nervously;
speaking in a whisper)
Yeah, you said you were a working
woman. Look, I'm not one of those guys
who hassle over fees. I've got a frigid,
post-menopausal wife with sideburns.
I'm desperate here.

Do you know who I am? Here, look at this!

She pulls out another copy of the photograph and shows it to him.

A look of genuine surprise crosses the man's face.

Wow, I'm so sorry, sir. I never
would have guessed. That's a great
Natalie Merchant impersonation - except
for the hair, of course.

No, I'm Janeane Garofalo, the famous

The businessman gives her a doubting look.

Comedian, huh? Yeah, that would have been my second guess.

Janeane is incensed by this. She turns in a huff and storms through the entrance to the terminal.

Hey, wait a minute. I'm flexible.
Can't we still work something out?
How much for the Eddie Murphy special?

Janeane ignores him as she hurries towards the security gate.


Janeane approaches the will-call counter and makes eye contact with the ticket clerk.

Yes, ma'am?

Hello. My name is Janeane Garofalo. I
believe I have a ticket reserved.

(fumbling behind counter)
Oh yes, here it is. One round trip to
Los Angeles, flight number 559, first
class with vegetarian meal.
(hands ticket packet to Janeane)

(accepts packet)
Thank you very much.

Hi, toots.

Janeane is startled, and then her eyes light up with recognition. She wheels about suddenly to confront an old man pushing a walker.

Oh no, not you again.

(winking lasciviously and jiggling
a bottle of Viagra held in the
hand of his upraised arm)
What do you say we kill a little
time before your flight? I get an
AARP discount at the Red Roof Inn.

(pushing his arm down and
glancing around in
Listen, pal, how long has this been
going on now, since ninety-six?

Ninety-two actually. It took me the
first four years to catch up to you.
You know, you're not getting
around as much as you used to.

Yeah, tell me about it. Okay, you
win the Guinness World's Record for
oldest living celebrity stalker.
(shakes old man's hand)
Now, why don't we make this easy for
a change, and just let me wait for
my flight in peace without me having
to call Airport Security on you?

What's the difference? I always put
on my confused old man act, like I'm lost
and asking for directions, and all they do
is buy me lunch and give me a free
ride home. Actually, I usually just have
them drop me off at your apartment.
Incidentally, I fed the dogs for you and watered them funny lookin' plants.

Thanks - huh?

(she does a double take)
How - Oh, never mind. Listen, I just
don't think this is going to work. You're
a nice guy, but you're really
not my type.

Now, don't say that, sweetcheeks.
(closes his eyes and
makes kissing face)
You know, I used to be a rock drummer.
I've still got Grateful Dead logos
on my Depends.

People walking by stare at the old man coming onto Janeane. She cups her hand over her eyes.

So what's your name?

Irving, but you can call me Studmuffin.

Yeah, okay, Irving.
(pointing at walker)
Look, this just isn't a good idea.
None of my boyfriends have ever been
handicapped - at least not before
I met them.

I ain't handicapped!
(slaps walker angrily)
This is just an old war wound. I've
seen some rough action in my day.

I'm sorry. Korea?

Hell no. Second wife. I told her like
Clinton that I wanted to feel her pain,
so she shot me in the ass and let
me bleed until the end of the month.
Dang, I love a spunky little gal.

He reaches over and pinches Janeane on her rear. She flinches and lets out a soft scream.

(she backs away a step)
Okay, tell you what, Irving - I mean
Studmuffin. You win. You've worn me down.
I just can't resist anymore.
(points to alcove behind large
support column)
Tell you what. Meet me back in that hallway
and you can take me like a wild beast.

Irving wheels his walker frantically behind the column

Hurry up. It's dark back here. I can't
see nothing with these cataracts.

(under her breath)
That's what I'm counting on.

She looks around desperately and spies a blind man dozing in a chair with his guide dog beside him. She deftly unleashes the dog and leads it toward the alcove.

Ready or not, Studmuffin, here I come!

She pushes the dog into the alcove and trots away briskly down the hall. Behind her she hears a plaintive yelp and an excited voice.

Oh, baby! You weren't kiddin' about
that animal stuff, were you? Been
awhile since that last bikini
wax, though, I'll wager...

Janeane closes her eyes momentarily and shudders but keeps walking quickly toward her gate. As she approaches it, she suddenly stops and fixes her gaze on a young man with his back to her talking intimately with a stewardess.

Chris? Chris, is that you?

The young man turns around and reveals himself to be Chris Anderson, Janeane's fiancÚ. He gapes wide-eyed at Janeane.

Uh, hi there, babe. This isn't
what you think.

(turning red-faced)
Oh yeah? Well just what am I
supposed to think? I thought you were
supposed to be on tour with your
band and now I find you flirting
with some bimbo?

Ma'am, I'm sorry but I resent that --

Shut up. No one's talking to you. I
meant some other bimbo. Now get out
of here before I show you the
real meaning of "redeye."

The stewardess storms off in a huff. Janeane and Chris light into each other simultaneously.

Now listen here, young man --

Don't call me that! You're not my mommy.

The argument grows more heated. Chris notices passersby staring curiously. He places his hands on Janeane's shoulder and drags her off to the side. He finally shouts her down.

All right, all right, already! I admit,
I just took a powder. I needed to chill
out, relax a little. I was just cruising
around town, playing my guitar for a
little pocket money, taking in a few
lap dances -- and yes, even flirting
with a few women just to see what it
felt like again.

I don't understand. What went wrong?

I dunno...It's this whole political thing.
I'm sick of it.

I thought you supported my position
on the war and this administration.

I do, I do. It's just - I need a
little more in my life. I'm tired of
hearing about our evil doughnut hole
president twenty-four hours a day.
I'm sick and tired of not being
able to go out in public without
getting booed or egged; I think my
cholesterol is even going up. I'm
tired of being the guy who has to wake
you up at three o'clock in the
morning when you're sleepwalking with
a steak knife and attacking the
refrigerator because you think it's
Rush Limbaugh.

It's not that bad.

Not that bad? The last time we had
sex was to celebrate Senator Jeffers
turning Democrat. What about
Christmas last year? You know, I was
really hoping for a full-dress Harley
or at least some new amplifiers. What
did I get? A can of wax for my nipple

At least it was carnauba. You know
how I despise celebrating overexploited
commercialistic holidays of the Religious
Right. Besides, our budget is kind of
strained because of all the essential
political contributions we need to be
making right now.

To hell with that. That's another thing.
Most of those special interest groups
you've been throwing money at aren't
even real. You don't even check them
out first.

That's a lie!

Oh yeah?
(begins to count on
imaginary fingers)
"Save the Wails." Remember that one?
Turned out to be a foundation run by
Michael Bolton. Do you know what that
could do to my career if it ever leaks
out to Rolling Stone?
(continues counting
on his fingers)
"Green Piece." Let me see, wasn't that
actually Woody Harrelson's legal defense
fund for sex offenders involved
with underage pot smokers?
Oh yeah, there's a real noble cause;
and of course there was always the Sierra Club. That actually turned out to be a
real club - for owners of General Motors

Okay, so maybe financial research
isn't my strong suit. Still, we've got
too much invested here to just throw it all away. Isn't there some way we can
work this out? Nothing is too important
to stand between what we've got --

Janeane Garofalo, is that you?
(makes oinking noise)
I thought I told my travel agent to
order the kosher package.

Janeane whirls about in surprise to confront her old enemy Joan Rivers, dressed in low-cut blouse, short skirt, fishnet stockings and schlocky jewelry as she strolls through the airport lobby.


(to Chris)
Oh my, eloquent isn't she? No wonder
Bill O'Reilly is looking so devastated
these days.
(appraises Janeane)
My God, what have you done to yourself?
If Edgar could see this, he'd kill himself
all over again. Can we talk? I'd ask you
what happened to that hair, but I already
saw you get your head chewed off on
that Fox morning show.
(cackling evilly)
Yeah, honey, no wonder you're no good at
debating. Didn't anybody tell you? The
scarecrow never has a brain.

Joan sidles up to Chris.

(to Chris)
My, aren't you a handsome young fellow?
How would you like a job as my handyman?
No heavy work, just a lot of nailing
and screwing.

Joan winks at Chris suggestively.

Janeane explodes. She lunges for Joan, but Chris arm locks her and holds her back.

(red-faced and irate)
So help me, I'm going to find that big
surgical knot and untie it and send this
old b***h flying crosscountry without a
plane ticket!

(grunting from exertion)
I think you better leave, Ms. Rivers. I can't
hold her forever. She's been working out.

Oh well, if I hang around here much
longer, the 4-H will be awarding me a
blue ribbon.
(to Janeane as she turns
and leaves)
I hope you didn't spend too much on
flight insurance, dearie, because your
career has already crashed. Ha, ha, ha.

(still upset)
I'm not going to crash! I'm not
going to crash!

The PA announces a boarding call for Janeane's flight. Chris drags her over to a couple of stewardesses heading toward the boarding ramp.

Can you help me out here? It's --
uh, her first time flying.

Certainly, sir. We understand.

I'm not going to crash! I'm not going
to crash!

Of course you aren't. Don't worry,
dear. Everything is going to be just fine.

Chris relinquishes his hold on Janeane to the stewardesses. They begin to walk her down the ramp. She is still sobbing and wailing.

You have any Prozac left?

Sorry. I had to give it all to the pilot.

Hungover again?

No, his wife went on the Atkins diet,
so she kept him up all night trying
to bite him in her sleep.
(gesturing toward Janeane)
Wow, it's hard to believe that Natalie
Merchant has never flown before. That
must be an awful long trip by ship.

Yeah, but look at her hair. It sure
looks like she spent too much time
on the sun deck.

They proceed to board the plane with Janeane held between them.


--Back to Top--

 !  Sidebar Information /
Fan Fiction

Janeane Garofalo drawing by Amy

In this series of adventures, Janeane Garofalo plays the part of Janeane as she searches for a persona to finally call home. To read a brief biography, go to Janeane Garofalo >>.

This episodic comedy, written in the general format of a film script, follows the harrowing adventures of a modern-day Janeane Garofalo as she finds herself pitched by the winds of fate from one wild adventure to another. One moment she is burning down the home of Martha Stewart after a failed attempt to fill the apron of the homemaking diva who is preparing for a sojourn "up the river." The next she finds herself transformed into an Elizabethan era Alice pursued by Wonderland characters with incredible resemblances to members of the George W. Bush administration. Never fear, fans of Janeane. While the little Jersey gal walks through the world leaving chaos and destruction in her wake, she always comes out on top, though not completely unscathed at all times.

Select any one of the links below to go to another part of
Perils >> 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11

Little is known of George "Rusty" Datt. Some rumors place him at the scene of all historical events, important or otherwise, for the past two years. Other rumors say longer.
To learn what little we know, go to George "Rusty" Datt >>

  |   1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11


©2004 - 2005 Tall Tales To Go • Home PageFan Fiction Fan FictionFiction and MoreMiscellanyContact