The last supper

This sketch was written for the 4laughs forum (hence the reference).

INT. SPACIOUS BIBLICAL DINING ROOM/EVENING.

JESUS AND THE DESCIPLES ARE SAT AT A TABLE IN A SCENE REMINISCENT OF DA VINCI'S FAMOUS PAINTING.

THE PART OF JOHN IS PLAYED BY A WOMAN.

ALL ARE EATING AND SPEAKING IN GOOD SPIRITS EXCEPT JUDAS, WHO SEEMS A LITTLE ANNOYED WITH THE OTHERS, AND THOMAS WHO'S POKING HIS PLATTER WITH MORBID FASCINATION.


THOMAS: (TO LUKE)
Are you sure this is haddock?

LUKE: (SIGH)
Yes Thomas.

THOMAS:
It doesn't look like haddock.

LUKE:
Trust me. It's haddock.

THOMAS CONSIDERS THE FISH FOR A MOMENT THEN PUSHES IT AWAY.

THOMAS:
I think I'll pass.

BARTHOLOMEW:
Thomas - it's Haddock!

THOMAS SHAKES HIS HEAD AND PICKS UP A BREAD ROLL.

THOMAS:
I think I'll stick with the bread.

BARTHOLOMEW AND LUKE ROLL THEIR EYES.

THOMAS BEGINS STUDYING THE ROLL.

THOMAS:
Is this fresh?

THOMAS AND LUKE: (SIGH)
Yes Thomas.

THOMAS:
It doesn't smell fresh.


JESUS STANDS AND MOTIONS FOR SILENCE.

THE DISCIPLES TURN THEIR ATTENTION TO HIM.

JESUS:
Gentlemen, if I may, I have a short announcement to make.

JOHN PICKS UP A NOTEPAD AND PEN.

JESUS: (TO JOHN)
No John - off the record.

JOHN PUTS DOWN THE PAD.

THE DISCIPLES LOOK INTRIGUED.

JESUS:
Now, I know we've only been having these weekly suppers for a month or two, but I'm afraid that next weeks supper will have to be our last.

THE DISCIPLES EXPRESS THEIR DISAPPOINTMENT.

PETER:
That's not fair.


MARK: (SULKILY)
That sucks.

JESUS RAISES HIS HANDS TO CALM THEM.

JESUS:
I know, I know, but Dad's got something important he wants me to do, so, for now at least, the suppers are being put on the back burner.


LUKE:
Well, what's can be more important than supper nightS?


JESUS:
He hesn't told me yet, but I'll know by next week, so I'll let you know on the night. But the reason I'm telling you this now is that, to Mark the occasion, I've got hold of a... of a...


JESUS PAUSES, GRIMACES AND BEGINS TO SNIFF THE AIR.

HE LOOKS ACCUSINGLY AT THE DISCIPLES.

JESUS:
Alright! Who's let one go?

THE DISCIPLES TRY THEIR BEST TO LOOK INNOCENT. GLANCING TO EACH OTHER FOR THE ANSWER.

MARK:
It was Judas!

THE DISCIPLES EXPRESS THEIR DISGUST AT JUDAS.

JOHN: (OUTRAGED)
Ju-das!

LUKE:
You dirty Bugger!

JUDAS:
It wasn't me!

JESUS:
Yeah, yeah. Just like it wasn't you that peed in John the Baptist's font!

JUDAS:
That wasn't me either! That was Peter!

PETER:
Hey!

MARK: (TO JUDAS)
Stinker!

THE DISCIPLES DERIDE JUDAS, WHO SLOUCHES IN HIS SEAT.

JUDAS: (TO SELF)
How come it's always me that gets the blame?

JESUS:
Because that's the way dad made you.

A COUPLE OF DISCIPLES GIGGLE AT THIS.

PETER SUDDENLY STANDS.

PETER: (SHOUTING)
Who ate all the pies?!

EVERYBODY BUT JUDAS LEAP TO THEIR FEET TO ECHO PETERS CRY.

ALL: (SHOUTING)
Who ate all the pies?!

EVERYBODY POINTS AT JUDAS.

ALL: (SINGING)
You fat bastard! You fat bastard! You ate all the pies!

THE DISCIPLES FALL BACK INTO THEIR SEATS IN FITS OF LAUGHTER.

JUDAS: (SULKILY TO SELF)
This is getting ridiculous.

AFTER A MOMENT JESUS CALMS THE LAUGHTER DOWN.

JESUS:
Okay, okay. If Judas has finished with the gas attacks there are a few things we need to discuss.

ALL LOOK TO JUDAS EXPECTANTLY.

JUDAS SHAKES HIS HEAD IN DEFEAT.

JUDAS: (SIGH)
Go ahead.

JESUS:
Good. Now, since next week will be the last supper, I've called in a portrait artist to record the event.

A MURMER OF EXCITEMENT PASSES THROUGH THE DISCIPLES.

MARK:
Anyone we know?

JESUS:
A guy called Leanordo Da Vinci.

PETER:
Who?

JESUS:
He's a friend of my Dad's. A friend who... technically, hasn't been born yet. So I want you all on your best behavior, okay? No asking about next weeks football scores or trying to find out who this George Bush is that Dad keeps going on about.

ALL RELUCTANTLY VOICE THEIR ACKNOWLEGEMENTS.

JESUS:
And remember - clean clothes, no socks and best behavior all round, okay? (PAUSE) And John?

JOHN:
Yes lord?

JESUS:
Try and butch up a bit will you. We don't want him getting the wrong idea.

JOHN:
What do you mean lord?

JESUS:
Well... (PAUSE) how can I put this?

JESUS STRUGGLES FOR THE WORDS.

MARK LEANS IN WITH THE SOLUTION.

MARK: (TO JOHN)
You look like a big girl!

JOHN:
Big! I'm a size twelve!

PETER:
You still look like a girl.

JOHN:
I do not!

JAMES:
You've got tits!

JOHN: (OUTRAGED)
These are the result of a serious medical condition!

JAMES:
What's that then? Titty-itus?

JOHN SCOWLS AT JAMES.

PETER: (TO JAMES)
Hey! Don't mock the afflic-titted!

JAMES AND PETER BURST INTO LAUGHTER.

JESUS: (TO JOHN)
Look, just bind your lumps and stick on a beard, okay?

JOHN:
I'm not wearing a beard! They itch!

JESUS:
Then get a tattoo, get a haircut - I don't care! Just don't wear make-up, and keep your man-boobs under wraps!

JOHN FOLDS HER ARMS SULKILY.

JOHN:
Fine.

JESUS:
Good. Now, we'll be starting at the usual...

BARTHOLOMEW:
Lord?

JESUS LOOKS TO BARTHOLOMEW AND FROWNS, UNABLE TO RECOGNISE HIM.

BARTHOLOMEW SHIFTS UNCOMFORTABLE.

JESUS:
Who are you?

BARTHOLOMEW:
I'm Bartholomew Lord.


JESUS:
Oh. Right. Of course you are...

STILL NONE THE WISER, JESUS EXCHANGES A QUICK SHRUG WITH PETER THEN TURNS BACK TO BARTHOLOMEW.

JESUS:
...What's on your mind son?

BARTHOLOMEW:
I was just wondering lord, will we be having Haddock again next week?

THOMAS: (HOLDING UP HIS FISH)
I told you! This isn't haddock!

BARTHOLOMEW: (IGNORING THOMAS)
Only I thought, with it being a special occasion, we might try a nice bit of Halibut.

JESUS PONDERS THIS, THEN NODS.

JESUS:
Good idea Bernard. Halibut it is.

BARTHOLOMEW:
It's Bartholomew lord.

JESUS:
Really? I thought it was a fish! (PAUSE) Anyway, where was I... oh yes. We'll meet up here at the usual time, I'll give a bit of a speech, then I thought we could go on to the garden of Gethsemane for a bit of a pray. Then after that, if there's time, it's back to the butchers for a kebab, then home.

PETER:
So we won't be going to a nightclub then?

JESUS:
No, I'm afraid not.

THE DISCIPLES SHOW THEIR DISAPPOINTMENT.

JESUS:
Sorry guys.

MARK:
We'll still be having wine with the meal won't we? I mean, we can still get drunk can't we?

JESUS:
Well, yes - but not too drunk. I don't want you falling asleep in the gardens again. Remember last time?

PETER:
That was Judas's fault lord.

JUDAS: (TO SELF)
Here we go.

LUKE:
If Judas hadn't dropped his false teeth in the soup...

JUDAS:
For the last time - I don't wear false teeth!

PETER: (CONTINUING)
... we wouldn't have been depressed about skipping the starter, and we wouldn't have had to drink all that wine to cheer ourselves up!

THOMAS:
False-teeth don't exist!

JUDAS LOOKS AT THE DISCIPLES INCREDULOUSLY.

JUDAS:
You people are insane!

MARK:
If we are, it's your fault!

WITH A FRUSTRATED CRY, JUDAS BURIES HIS HEAD IN HIS HANDS.

JESUS : (TO MARK AND JUDAS)
Okay guy's, that's enough. (TO ALL) We can talk more about this tomorrow after basketball practice...

JESUS LOOKS AT HIS WATCH.

JESUS: (CONTINUING)
...But for now, I think we should move on to the fatted calf.

THE DISCIPLES ARE PLEASED.

JOHN:
The fatted calf's closed.

THE DISCIPLES ARE DISPLEASED.

JESUS: (TO JOHN)
Since when?!

JOHN:
Since yesterday. Landlord's having urinals fitted to the bar.

PETER:
Well it's about time! I'm tired of having to pee down the back of Mathews legs.

MATHEW:
You?! I thought that was Judas!

PETER:
It was!

MATHEW GROWLS AT JUDAS.


JESUS:
Mmmn. Looks like we'll have to settle for the Dirty Shepherd.

PETER:
But they don't have a dart board!

JESUS:
Then we'll have to do without one.

MARK:
But you said we could finish our tournament tonight!

LUKE:
Yeah!

JOHN:
He's right.

JESUS LOSES HIS TEMPER.

JESUS:
Well what exactly do you expect me to do about it! I can't magically speed up the instillation of bar-room amenities or make a tournament standard dartboard appear out of thin air you know?! I'm the son of God - not a miracle worker!

JOHN:
Well, actually Lord...

JESUS: (INTERRUPTING)
Look! We're going to the Dirty Shepherd and that's final! Now can we wrap this sketch up before we end up filling the forum with a whole sit-coms worth of pointless bickering?!

ALL: (DEJECTED)
Yes lord.

JESUS: (CONTINUING)
And not a good sit-com's worth either, I mean the sort of sit-com that even BBC3 wouldn't touch!

THE DISCIPLES LOOK CONFUSED.

MATHEW:
Who's BBC3?

JESUS LOOSES HIS TEMPER AGAIN.

JESUS: (SHOUTING)
For Dad's sake!! does it matter!!

MATHEW:
No lord.

JESUS SITS DOWN AND FOLDS HIS ARMS SULKILY.

JESUS:
Amen!

THE DISCIPLES LOWER THEIR HEADS.

A LONG PERIOD OF TIME PASSES WITH NOBODY SPEAKING.

GRADUALLY, ONE BY ONE, THE DISCIPLES BEGIN TO GROW CONFUSED AT SOMETHING.

SOON JESUS TOO SHOWS CONFUSION. CLEARLY SOMETHING IS AMISS.

JESUS LEANS IN TO SPEAK WITH JOHN.

JESUS: (QUIETLY)
Wasn't that supposed to be the end?

JOHN: (SHRUGGING)
I think so... yes.

JESUS:
So why are we still talking? Why didn't we fade to black?


A MURMER OF CONCERN PASSES THROUGH THE DISCIPLES.

PETER:
Maybe we forgot something.

JESUS:
Like what?!

PETER:
I don't know! But we're still here aren't we? Maybe there's still something one of us has to say... or do!

THE DISCIPLES PONDER THIS FOR A TIME.

BARTHOLOMEW:
It's not me, I said all my lines.

MATHEW:
It's not me either!

ANDREW:
And it can't be me - this is the only line I've got!

THEY PONDER THE PROBLEM FURTHER.

AND FURTHER.

THEN A MOMENT MORE.

JOHN:
Well somebody's holding the sketch up!

AFTER A SECOND, A LOOK OF DAWNING REALISATION CROSSES THE FACE OF JESUS, SOON SPREADING THROUGH ALL THE DISCIPLES.

SMILES BEGIN TO APPEAR.

SUDDENLY THEY ALL LEAP TO THEIR FEET AS ONE AND POINT.

ALL:
Judas!!

THEY BURST INTO LAUGHTER.

JUDAS PUSHES HIS PLATE AWAY ANGRILY.

JUDAS:
That's it!

HE STANDS DEFIANTLY, TURNS AND MARCHES TOWARDS THE EXIT.

JUDAS: (ANGRILY)
You'll all pay for this!

JUDAS SLAMS THE DOOR BEHIND HIM, STARTLING JESUS INTO A SERIOUS EXPRESSION.

SEEING THE LORDS SERIOUSNESS, THE DISCIPLES LAUGHTER TRAILS OFF, AND THEY BEGIN TO WORRY.

JESUS SHAKES HIS HEAD WITH DISAPPOINTMENT, THEN LOOKS ACCUSINGLY AT THE GATHERED APOSTLES.

HE SCOWLS AND POINTS TO THE EXIT.

JESUS: (ANGRILY)
Who slammed that door?!

JESUS AND THE DISCIPLES BURST INTO LAUGHTER ONCE AGAIN.

FADE TO BLACK.

END OF SKETCH.