The Rich Oral Tradition of the Second Banana (TBF RP)
Oct 15, 2021 16:16:44 GMT -5
anthonycaffrey and ulvendagoth like this
Post by Vodka Fizz on Oct 15, 2021 16:16:44 GMT -5
The scene opens in what appears to be a large workshop. Parts of a golf cart can be seen cast to the side in one corner and, in the background, a half-unboxed giant animatronic crocodile can be seen, it’s glassy eyes staring at the camera almost menacingly. The lighting has been adjusted to make the setting somewhat more ominous, with fake candles casting flickering orange light over the space and other various bits of detritus adding to an overall vibe of creepiness. There is some muted conversation off screen and, finally, after a moment a tall, slender man in a green lab coat over a dark grey shirt and brown slacks appears. It is immediately clear it is Vodka Fizz in a costume, though his hat is missing and his usual shutter shades have been replaced with a pair of translucent green-framed plastic glasses with no lenses. He squints at the camera, reaching out to tap a finger on the lens.
Vodka: Gavin? Hello, Gavin? Come in Gavin!
After a moment, Vodka grins.
Vodka: Aha! There you are, son. How’s your day been so far?
Vodka turns his ear toward the camera, cupping a hand against it as if listening to someone whispering to him.
Vodka: I’m only kidding, buddy. The microphone isn’t working. And I don’t really care. As you know, I’m Dr. Vodka Forrester. And this week, instead of an invention exchange, we’re going to discuss something that I know is near and dear to your heart, Gavin. That being the rich, oral tradition of the Second Banana. Hm?
Vodka pauses for a moment, posing as if listening to his silent charge.
Vodka: Oh, yes. Unfortunately Frank couldn’t be here today, something about being my finance manager and not getting paid enough to dress up like some kinda goofy dipshit for a joke. So Frank is…. Let’s say he’s on vacation. No matter, I can handle this on my own.
Vodka digs in his pockets, pulling out a remote which he clicks. A screen rolls down from the ceiling and, after Vodka pushes another button, a crudely-illustrated slide with a picture of Donzig and Gavin Drake appears on the screen. Vodka clears his throat.
Vodka: A-HEM. Excuse me. The ‘second banana’ is a term that originated in vaudeville theaters and traditionally was used to refer to the straight man to the more over-the-top antics that would be the characteristic of a top-billed performer at the time. That starring performer would be called the top banana, which came from an extremely funny sketch in the burlesque era of performing in which the top-billed performer would be given a banana. Over time, second banana came to be a catch all term for support people to more important people.
Vodka clicks the remote again, and the slide on the screen changes to the same picture, but with an arrow pointing at DonZig that says ‘Tob Banana’ and one pointing to Drake that says ‘Second Banana.’
Vodka: Now there is nothing wrong with being a second banana, of course. The important people in this world need their insignificant peons to do their laundry, and take their mothers to the park so they can get fresh air. Why, just the other day I had Frank organize my collection of celebrity toenails by flavor, texture, and scent.
Vodka looks repulsed for a moment, then shudders.
Vodka: Aaaaanyway, this form of comedy duo informed much of the media in the transition into the golden age. The existence of the second banana was why Batman had Robin. Why Abbot had Costello. Why the Three Stooges had Four Stooges. Even why I had Laurence, and then replaced him with Frank when he started getting too big for his britches. The sidekick, the supporter, the less-important partner became an integral part of our society. Regardless of the success of these characters apart from one another, they can never quite shake that reputation. The original Robin, Dick Grayson, has been a solo hero for decades, but he’s never managed to escape from Batman’s shadow. Unfortunately, that’s just how it works. Nobody would take it seriously if Frank was suddenly in charge, right?
Vodka laughs sarcastically.
Vodka: Perish the thought. My point is, in the grand scheme of things, some of us are the heroes, or the villains, or the stars, and some of us are just meant to exist in the background. The trick the hero pulls out when we least expect it. The villain’s trump card. There’s nothing wrong with that, it’s just the hand we’re dealt. And I reckon you’d have a pretty good understanding of that.
Vodka clicks off the projector, and the screen rolls back up. He shrugs off the lab coat and replaces the breen glasses with his shutter shades.
Vodka: So real talk, Drake: I want you to know that I understand you. And just so there’s no question, this is Vodka Fizz talking, not me being some goofy-ass character. I mean, no goofier than usual. Anyway. Like I said, I understand you. It’s so easy to blame being mediocre on someone else, right? You have this whole complex about your old partner because deep down you believe all that shit they fed you about being worthless. About being nothing without them. About your being a failure. And that’s unfortunate, Gavin. You know why?
Vodka allows the question to hang for a moment.
Vodka: I don't see a failed experiment when I look at you, Gavin. As much as you want to believe that I drink the Donzig koolaid and think that you’re some aborted attempt at building the perfect partner, I don;t believe that. You know what I do see when I look at you, though?
Vodka smirks now, taking a moment to smooth down his hair.
Vodka: I see a man that’s afraid. I see a man who is so caught up in his former partner’s cult of personality that he has created a situation where he can’t exist without Donzig. Oh, sure, you claim to want to be free of him, but deep, deep, deep down you know that’s horseshit, because you no longer believe there is a Gavin Drake that can exist on his own.
Vodka clucks his tongue, staring sadly into the camera.
Vodka: More than anything, I believe that is the reason you won’t beat me. Not because of some horseshit ‘you can;t do it without me’ from your partner, but because the person I’m facing in the ring is this sad, pathetic, neurotic, cowardly mess who honestly believes he needs something the partner he wants to be free of to succeed. And I know a thing or two about being a pathetic, neurotic mess.
Vodka takes a seat, crossing his legs in front of him.
Vodka: And it’s truly nothing personal, Drake. I think you probably have great potential somewhere inside of you. I think if you can ever get past that barrier you’ve built in yourself, if you can ever overcome the ghost of Donzig, I think you have the potential to be great. I reckon we’ve already seen flashes of greatness from you, but for as long as you keep using your relationship with your former benefactor as an excuse not to excel on your own, you’re never gonna see anything more than those flashes.
Vodka raises from the chair, walking over to fiddle with something hanging on the wall and trying to get it to hang straight.
Vodka: I recommend you ask yourself some questions, Drake. Does the fact that I think you’re a piss baby coward piss you off? Does the fact that I think it’s pathetic that you’re using some fucking codependent horseshit as an excuse to be a loser make you angry? Does the fact that the only reason Donzig has any bearing on your life and your career is that you’re afraid he’s actually going to abandon you make you feel pathetic? Because it should.
Vodka turns his attention back to the camera, the same easy grin on his face despite the venom in his words.
Vodka: I won this match the moment the card was announced, Drake. You and I are fundamentally different; your existence is tied up in HIM while my existence is tied up in ME. You look for someone else to save you when I know saviors don’t exist. We might both be pathetic in some ways, but at least I’m enough of a person to exist on my own. You haven;t shown me anything to prove that you are.
Vodka shakes his head.
Vodka: Our match at Trial by Fire ends one way, Gavin Drake. I’m the one with his hand raised, and you’re looking at lights. Donzig might be there, but he won’t save you. And you need to grow a pair of balls and realize that you don’t need him to. Otherwise, you’re never going to be anything.
Vodka picks up his lab coat, drapes it over his shoulder, and exits. The camera slowly pans in on the dead eyes of the crocodile before abruptly cutting to black.
Vodka: Gavin? Hello, Gavin? Come in Gavin!
After a moment, Vodka grins.
Vodka: Aha! There you are, son. How’s your day been so far?
Vodka turns his ear toward the camera, cupping a hand against it as if listening to someone whispering to him.
Vodka: I’m only kidding, buddy. The microphone isn’t working. And I don’t really care. As you know, I’m Dr. Vodka Forrester. And this week, instead of an invention exchange, we’re going to discuss something that I know is near and dear to your heart, Gavin. That being the rich, oral tradition of the Second Banana. Hm?
Vodka pauses for a moment, posing as if listening to his silent charge.
Vodka: Oh, yes. Unfortunately Frank couldn’t be here today, something about being my finance manager and not getting paid enough to dress up like some kinda goofy dipshit for a joke. So Frank is…. Let’s say he’s on vacation. No matter, I can handle this on my own.
Vodka digs in his pockets, pulling out a remote which he clicks. A screen rolls down from the ceiling and, after Vodka pushes another button, a crudely-illustrated slide with a picture of Donzig and Gavin Drake appears on the screen. Vodka clears his throat.
Vodka: A-HEM. Excuse me. The ‘second banana’ is a term that originated in vaudeville theaters and traditionally was used to refer to the straight man to the more over-the-top antics that would be the characteristic of a top-billed performer at the time. That starring performer would be called the top banana, which came from an extremely funny sketch in the burlesque era of performing in which the top-billed performer would be given a banana. Over time, second banana came to be a catch all term for support people to more important people.
Vodka clicks the remote again, and the slide on the screen changes to the same picture, but with an arrow pointing at DonZig that says ‘Tob Banana’ and one pointing to Drake that says ‘Second Banana.’
Vodka: Now there is nothing wrong with being a second banana, of course. The important people in this world need their insignificant peons to do their laundry, and take their mothers to the park so they can get fresh air. Why, just the other day I had Frank organize my collection of celebrity toenails by flavor, texture, and scent.
Vodka looks repulsed for a moment, then shudders.
Vodka: Aaaaanyway, this form of comedy duo informed much of the media in the transition into the golden age. The existence of the second banana was why Batman had Robin. Why Abbot had Costello. Why the Three Stooges had Four Stooges. Even why I had Laurence, and then replaced him with Frank when he started getting too big for his britches. The sidekick, the supporter, the less-important partner became an integral part of our society. Regardless of the success of these characters apart from one another, they can never quite shake that reputation. The original Robin, Dick Grayson, has been a solo hero for decades, but he’s never managed to escape from Batman’s shadow. Unfortunately, that’s just how it works. Nobody would take it seriously if Frank was suddenly in charge, right?
Vodka laughs sarcastically.
Vodka: Perish the thought. My point is, in the grand scheme of things, some of us are the heroes, or the villains, or the stars, and some of us are just meant to exist in the background. The trick the hero pulls out when we least expect it. The villain’s trump card. There’s nothing wrong with that, it’s just the hand we’re dealt. And I reckon you’d have a pretty good understanding of that.
Vodka clicks off the projector, and the screen rolls back up. He shrugs off the lab coat and replaces the breen glasses with his shutter shades.
Vodka: So real talk, Drake: I want you to know that I understand you. And just so there’s no question, this is Vodka Fizz talking, not me being some goofy-ass character. I mean, no goofier than usual. Anyway. Like I said, I understand you. It’s so easy to blame being mediocre on someone else, right? You have this whole complex about your old partner because deep down you believe all that shit they fed you about being worthless. About being nothing without them. About your being a failure. And that’s unfortunate, Gavin. You know why?
Vodka allows the question to hang for a moment.
Vodka: I don't see a failed experiment when I look at you, Gavin. As much as you want to believe that I drink the Donzig koolaid and think that you’re some aborted attempt at building the perfect partner, I don;t believe that. You know what I do see when I look at you, though?
Vodka smirks now, taking a moment to smooth down his hair.
Vodka: I see a man that’s afraid. I see a man who is so caught up in his former partner’s cult of personality that he has created a situation where he can’t exist without Donzig. Oh, sure, you claim to want to be free of him, but deep, deep, deep down you know that’s horseshit, because you no longer believe there is a Gavin Drake that can exist on his own.
Vodka clucks his tongue, staring sadly into the camera.
Vodka: More than anything, I believe that is the reason you won’t beat me. Not because of some horseshit ‘you can;t do it without me’ from your partner, but because the person I’m facing in the ring is this sad, pathetic, neurotic, cowardly mess who honestly believes he needs something the partner he wants to be free of to succeed. And I know a thing or two about being a pathetic, neurotic mess.
Vodka takes a seat, crossing his legs in front of him.
Vodka: And it’s truly nothing personal, Drake. I think you probably have great potential somewhere inside of you. I think if you can ever get past that barrier you’ve built in yourself, if you can ever overcome the ghost of Donzig, I think you have the potential to be great. I reckon we’ve already seen flashes of greatness from you, but for as long as you keep using your relationship with your former benefactor as an excuse not to excel on your own, you’re never gonna see anything more than those flashes.
Vodka raises from the chair, walking over to fiddle with something hanging on the wall and trying to get it to hang straight.
Vodka: I recommend you ask yourself some questions, Drake. Does the fact that I think you’re a piss baby coward piss you off? Does the fact that I think it’s pathetic that you’re using some fucking codependent horseshit as an excuse to be a loser make you angry? Does the fact that the only reason Donzig has any bearing on your life and your career is that you’re afraid he’s actually going to abandon you make you feel pathetic? Because it should.
Vodka turns his attention back to the camera, the same easy grin on his face despite the venom in his words.
Vodka: I won this match the moment the card was announced, Drake. You and I are fundamentally different; your existence is tied up in HIM while my existence is tied up in ME. You look for someone else to save you when I know saviors don’t exist. We might both be pathetic in some ways, but at least I’m enough of a person to exist on my own. You haven;t shown me anything to prove that you are.
Vodka shakes his head.
Vodka: Our match at Trial by Fire ends one way, Gavin Drake. I’m the one with his hand raised, and you’re looking at lights. Donzig might be there, but he won’t save you. And you need to grow a pair of balls and realize that you don’t need him to. Otherwise, you’re never going to be anything.
Vodka picks up his lab coat, drapes it over his shoulder, and exits. The camera slowly pans in on the dead eyes of the crocodile before abruptly cutting to black.
