'THE COMEDIAN' ALLEN CHANEY
Season 1: Episode 5
The Late Shift
“It’s a difficult balancing act.” Allen says as he finishes his beer.
“You certainly don’t look like much of a gymnast.” Martin responds as he takes two more bottles from the cooler between them and pops them open, taking a drink from one while extending the other to Allen. Allen throws his empty bottle off of the roof and hits the satellite dish of one of his neighbors before taking the new bottle being offered to him.
“Rad fat joke, Reverend. Wanna call that 20 points?” Allen says, gesturing to the dish before taking a sip of his beer.
“Barely a 10.” Reverend West says, not comfortable actively playing this game but apparently more than welcome to the idea of keeping score for it. Lots of targets here on the roof of Allen’s apartment building where he has two deck chairs set out to seat himself and his drinking buddy, Reverend Martin West.
“For real, though. It’s difficult being a professional scumbag with all the evil heinous shit going on right now. You think you find your niche as the asshole comedian then Dave Chappelle outs himself as a transphobic piece of shit joining the legions of dickheads getting checks for Netflix specials with names like ‘CANCELLED’ and ‘TRIGGERED’ announcing to the world they’re being censored while simultaneously being paid to have their content on one of the largest media platforms on the planet. Seriously, why the fuck can’t we go back to living in the reality where the most harmful thing Joe Rogan did was making people eat bugs and pig anus for money? I’m not looking to spread ill-intentioned shit. I just want to beat up anyone I feel like beating up. Regardless of Religion, race, creed, gender, sexual orientation…” Allen says before taking a long pull from his beer.
“I guess there’s some degree of nobility in that.” Martin says, also taking a drink.
“You think?”
“No, but that’s what you want me to say.” Martin adds.
"Well dammit Marty we’re just talking. I didn’t ask you to come over, have a beer, and justify all my life choices to me.” Allen says, finishing another beer and finding himself surprised he finished that one so fast. He tries to hit the back of an outdoor ‘LIVE. LAUGH. LOVE.’ sign on a woman’s balcony but it misses and unceremoniously crashes to the ground. Allen looks to Martin who simply shakes his head and holds up his fingers to indicate a ‘zero’.
“Let me put it this way, Al. I like hanging out with you… but you know how you made it a rule that I’m not supposed to try and convert you or save you or anything like that?” Martin says, Allen nods in response.
“Well in a month of us being friends you’ve confessed more to me than anyone in my congregation. I don’t mind letting you vent but when it comes to giving actual advice? I can’t claim to be a professional and I can’t claim to have all the answers. You can talk to me about anything but your kinda issues are the ones I put a hand on someone’s head and forgive. That forgives you in the eyes of God but if you’re looking to actually deal with all of this, maybe you should consider telling maybe even of a fraction of the things you tell me to that therapist your job is paying for.” Martin says. At no point does he take a condescending tone with Allen. Allen pops himself another beer.
"I have this weird mental block about Psychologists...therapists… in general. Dr. Howell may have good intentions. I have no reason to believe that he doesn’t but like… at some point it feels like I’m dealing with an ‘emotions prostitute’. It isn’t that I don’t think he shouldn’t get paid for what he’s doing. I think it’s a valuable service that a lot of people need. Hell, I’m not even denying that I personally need it. All evidence points to the fact that I do but… I don’t know. There’s a wall between Dr. Howell and I and I think it’s made of money.” Allen says.
There is a moment of silence.
"But uh… sorry to unload on you so much.” Allen adds.
“It’s alright, Al. Really. So...Thanksgiving? There’s going to be a lot of people.” Martin says as he finishes his beer. He hands the bottle to Allen and this time Allen actually manages to hit the sign he was aiming for previously. Martin holds up five fingers. Allen seems satisfied with this number.
“That is the opposite of how you get me to go places. You absolutely never lead with ‘Want to come to a place with a bunch of strangers? Also the people who aren’t strangers probably know you’re a dick.’” Allen says, grabbing Martin another beer.
“Yeah, Xaria took some convincing.”
“Convincing for Thanksgiving or convincing that it wasn’t me who attacked her backstage?” Allen asks.
“Well, I mean both but I was specifically talking about Thanksgiving. Since we’re on the topic who do you think it was?”
"Dunno. Seems like all the dickheads have alibis or folks that can vouch for their character. It could be anybody and it wouldn’t surprise me for a second. People are dicks. I was just first on the list because I’m open about being a dick. It’s the other people you really have to worry about. The hidden dicks. The covert boners. The concealed weiners. The-”
"Are you done?”
“One more. Clandestine Cocks.”
“Got it.”
“If I was to attack Xaria...and I wouldn’t because I know she’s your baby momma… Well, I’m not one for subtlety. I would’ve made sure there was a camera there so literally everyone could see the bad thing I did. That’s the shit that gets ratings. That’s why I do things similar to that. The more people want to pay to see me get my fat ass kicked the more money goes into my pocket and the more I get to shit on their dreams by winning.” Allen says before pairing that statement with a huge beer burp.
“I believe you, Allen. So. Thanksgiving. Lot of good food. Lots of folks who won’t judge you, even if you show up, eat, and leave. At least give it some thought, okay? The moment you want to bail I’ll pay for your Uber home. I’ll even have a to-go Tupperware ready for you.” Martin says before taking a long drink of his beer.
Silence. Then a sigh.
"Fine.”
“Fine?”
“Yes, fine.”
“Good. You won’t regret it.” Martin says.
“The last time someone told me that I ended up with a condom full of cocaine in my ass at an Australian comedy festival. You have any idea how terrifying even a cough is when you’ve got that kind of thunder down under? That balloon bursts and you’re OD’ing in a sweltering hot continent full of spiders as big as most dogs. That’s probably most religions' idea of Hell.” Allen says, making a gesture indicative of something being put inside of one’s keister.
“As blasphemous as that is, I’m actually finding that difficult to argue with.” Martin says.
Both men sigh and relax into their chairs, each taking a simultaneous drink of their beer.
"Fucking Chappelle, man. I’m so disillusioned with stand-up in general lately.” Allen says.
“Well what’s the alternative for you?”
“I dunno…kissing enough ass to land a talk show? I mean if Jimmy Fallon can awkwardly fuck-chuckle his way into the Tonight Show then why not me?”
“Never understood his appeal. I was always a Letterman guy. The latest trend seems to be putting celebrities on a pedestal. Letterman was great because he kind of hated the idea of fame and celebrity and sort of let that disdain show with certain guests. Maybe the world needs more of that.” Martin says with a shrug.
“You might be onto something there, Marty. Cheers.” Allen says. He and Marty clink their bottles together and down the last of their drinks. Allen flings his bottle and we hear someone eclaim ‘WHAT THE FUCK!?’. Allen and Martin quickly gather up the cooler and run to get off of the roof.
“Next in importance to having a good aim is to recognize when to pull the trigger.”
We find Allen Chaney wearing a nice suit for once and he seems to be in a darkened room standing in front of a curtain. A woman appears to be doing a last minute check of his make-up.
ALLEN CHANEY: Hey Pinky. You stole from me but since I am literally the bigger man I will make the move to figuratively being the bigger man and promise that I would never, ever steal from you… now if you don’t mind I have a pilot to film. Feel free to check it out, bud!
The camera cuts to outside of the curtain where a live band and crowd are waiting. The live band playing an instrumental version of the Grammy Award-Winning 1999 Hit ‘Smooth’ by Santana featuring Rob Thomas of Matchbox Twenty. An applause sign lights up and the crowd begins to clap and cheer.
VOICE OVER TED: Ladies and Gentlemen! Coming to you pre-taped in the mediocre city of Chicago, Illinois… He is a former Five-Time World Champion unlike SOME hosts. Here is...ALLEN CHANEY!
The Curtain opens and Allen emerges to uproarious applause and cheers from the crowd full of people who absolutely were not all paid to be there. Allen does a Johnny Carson golf swing to signal the end of the band playing before taking a moment to bask in the very genuine applause.
ALLEN CHANEY: Thank you all, thank you very much! Welcome to the Cunt Ledger. I am your host Allen Chaney here with the Allen Chaney band! It’s pretty much just Conan O’Brien’s band but, I mean, what the fuck are they up to lately right? Not Max Weinberg, though. I make okay money but I absolutely do not make Bruce Springsteen money. I hope it’s okay with you guys that I did a little tribute to Carson as I came out. My original plan was to do a tribute to James Corden but quite frankly I think I might be too likeable and entertaining to actually pull it off.
A pause for laughter. Bill looks up from his comfortable cat bed on Allen’s desk and briefly makes note of all the people around him before laying back down and closing his eyes.
ALLEN CHANEY: Word has it that after this Pinkston is gonna try and do a tribute to Jay Leno and get this show taken away from me for being funnier than he is.
Another pause for laughter, Allen at the very least seems to have late night joke timing down.
ALLEN CHANEY: By the way to all you confused kids watching at home I was talking about Johnny Carson, not Carson Daly who had a late night show called ‘Last Call’ that surprised every single person watching late night tv when it came on that it was still going. A lot of you probably don’t even know that it’s still going to this very day. Except that’s a lie. It got cancelled and you ALSO didn’t know that. Such is the purgatory inhabited by Carson Daly. Trapped now on the Today show as a painting of him in storage on the old Total Request Live set grows older every year due to his pact with Satanic forces that keep him youthful and on television despite possessing almost zero natural charisma.
Another break for laughter.
ALLEN CHANEY: Coming right up folks we’re gonna get right into the actual Cunt Ledger but first a word from our sponsor.
We cut to a commercial that is a caveman in a white apron holding up a small lizard.
SMALL LIZARD, POSSIBLY A GECKO: Uh...Car Insurance I guess? I don’t even know anymore.
We cut back to Allen sitting at his desk with Bill sleeping on the table in front of him once again seemingly uncaring about all the noise around him. Allen has a few blue notecards.
ALLEN CHANEY: Hello everyone and welcome back to the Bitch Li- I mean The Cunt Ledger. Copyright of Allen Chaney 2021. All rights reserved. Let’s get right into the list then, shall we?
A monitor pops up behind Allen and we all can’t help but wonder how much money he actually spent on this one-off joke.
ALLEN CHANEY: Honorable mention is going to Ross Hanson. Ross Hanson is terrible, he’s gone, and this is the last time I or likely anyone else will ever mention him.
A picture of Ross Hanson appears on screen accompanied by the test ‘Seriously, fuck that guy’ before Allen quickly moves on.
ALLEN CHANEY: When it comes to the number 3 spot on this list we have a tie! Have you ever gotten the vibe from someone upon meeting them that they’ve likely fucked a dead body? You have no evidence of this more than just a gut feeling of ‘Yup, this guy has cracked open a cold one at least once in his life’. Well I got this sensation when I first met the Champion and Challenger in the main event of Annihilation! That’s right! Nathaniel Cartwright! Damian Ayla! Corpse fuckers! Tweet about it! Get a hashtag going!
The words #MainEventCorpseFuckers pops up on screen.
ALLEN CHANEY: Number 2 on this list is Zoey Madigan-Star. Zoey seems to think that none one should be allowed to talk shit on her. Well I’m here to inform her that she is a fluke of a champion and that is the sincerest hope of myself and everyone here working at the Cunt Ledger that she eats a big bag of shit and gets papercuts on the web between every single one of her fingers. I will talk about you as much as I want to until the time comes for me to drop you on your skull and you can Harry Houdini your ass off of PWE programming out of sheer embarrassment.
Allen tosses his note cards aside.
ALLEN CHANEY: And that brings us to the number one Cunt. The top Cunt. Any guesses as to who that might be?
Allen stands and removes his suit jacket, taking a moment to roll up his sleeves and even loosen his tie a bit.
ALLEN CHANEY: Hi there, Pinky-Dick. You’re pretty damn good at being wrong. Me and my pleasantly girthy penis had quite a laugh listening to you try and spin this match into something it isn’t. Maybe you’re making some kind of attempt to get in my head but we all know you just aren’t that smart so maybe it’s just a lack of self-awareness. I know why this match was booked, there are a lot of reasons for it and not a single one of them is because anyone else on this planet has made the mistake of thinking you are on my level. Mostly, it’s because as much as people hate me...they see you and would love nothing more than for the biggest and meanest sumbitch on this roster to absolutely destroy you and if you look at the roster cross-section, right at the point on the graph where ‘big’ meets ‘mean’ you will find me.
A graph accompanies this claim on the monitor behind Allen.
ALLEN CHANEY: People don’t think you are on my level, Pinky-Dick. If you look at the rankings of wrestlers on this site and look beside the number one you see MY name. That’s the real list you should be concerning yourself with. People want to see you step into the ring with me for the same reason they want Jake Paul to step into a boxing ring with Mike Tyson. Sure Logan picked up a win or two out of pity but people want to see him get beat to hell.
A graphic of Lewis Chad-Pinkston next to Jake Paul is on screen. The crowd boos.
ALLEN CHANEY: But there’s someone else who really wanted this match that made sure it happened. Someone with a ton of experience who is well-respected enough in this industry to get this match to happen for their own enjoyment.
Allen takes a deep breath before a picture of the very handsome individual pops up on screen.
ALLEN CHANEY: Me.
Allen smiles a big wide smile.
ALLEN CHANEY: I lobbied hard for this match to happen. As much as I said I want nothing more than to leave all of this behind me and that is very much true… It has to be done. Everyone here with functioning eyes and a brain stem can take a look at what I am doing in this company and know that I’m the obvious pick to be next in line for either of this companies titles but I made the choice that I want to have a little fun before I move on to that. I want to break me a skinny douchebag.
Allen reaches over to a mug of stationery on his desk. He takes out a single pencil, holds it up, then effortlessly snaps it with his thumb.
ALLEN CHANEY: Even if there was no beef between us… This match is exactly my kind of thing and getting a chance to let out a little bit of steam on a barely-trained skinny little dipshit is exactly my idea of a good time. Make no mistake about it, that audience wants to see both of us hurt each other and they are gonna have all manner of gnarly shit for us. I love it. I’m halfway hard just thinking about it.
Allen takes a moment to adjust his slacks.
ALLEN CHANEY: You can care as little as you want about what I have to say. That’s fine. On reflection you’ll find new meaning to them once I’ve kicked your ass. I really, sincerely hope for your sake you take the right lesson away from this and never step in the ring with a professional ever again and just spend time being a professional simp for your dingbat wife until she divorces you for being such a constant fuck-up. Go home and be a family man….but I want to reiterate that you should absolutely never ever ever reproduce.
Allen shivers at the thought of a child that stupid. And ugly.
ALLEN CHANEY: I know the difference between you and me, Pinky. The difference is that I actually give a fuck about this industry. You’re a fucking tourist in my world and I hate fucking tourists. I have spilled gallons of blood and sweat all over this world to be considered one of the great professional wrestlers. You just… showed up. You showed up and told everyone you were ready to be a big strong wrestle boi like on the tv and everyone humored you because you did silly backstage stuff with a cat and they cheered when you managed to squeak out a win because people like dumb meme shit. That’s what you are. You are a joke that has gone on for far too long. We call those a Shaggy Dog story. It’s a long, pointless joke where the humor comes from the pointlessness. Well jokes get ended by Comedian’s by a real good Punchline.
The monitor shows a few videos of Allen delivering the Punchline piledriver to several people over the years.
ALLEN CHANEY: You can’t wait to tell all of us about how happy you are. How great your life is. Well you haven’t EARNED a second of that happiness, Pinky. You didn;t work for it, it all just happened to you. That isn’t how this is supposed to work. You can consider me an agent of karma. I am the balance your life deserves. I am going to be the new worst thing that has ever happened to you, Pinky. In the end? I’ll be doing you a favor. You’ll cherish time with your wife even more. Food will taste better, the air will feel a little lighter. You’ll have stepping into the ring with me with a crowd of people calling for your blood to compare it to. You’ll remember my name and my face every time you wake up and your neck is a little stiff. Frankly it’s better than you deserve you living fucking vape cloud of a human.
Allen moves to the front of the desk and picks up Bill’s cat bed with Bill still in it and sets it aside on the guest couch along with his mug of stationery.
ALLEN CHANEY: We only have a little bit of time left to get to our guest but I should be able to knock this last bit out real quick. I want you all to give a huge round of applause for our guest, he’s a guy we found who kind of looks like Lewis-Chad Pinkston who isn’t aware he’s about to go through my desk. Give it up for a guy I’m deciding to call Gus. Come on out here, Gus!
A skinny guy who kind of looks like Pinkston emerges from the curtain waving before walking over to Allen.
GUS: Hey… so uh what was all that stuff you said about me going through your de-
Gus is then interrupted with a stiff kick to the stomach followed by being gutwrench powerbombed into Allen’s desk, sending chunks of it flying all over in a way that would make Eric Andre proud. Allen steps over Gus to his chair and takes a single satisfied breath as he takes a seat. He fixes his tie a little bit as Gus groans on the floor. Allen picks up the stationery mug and nonchalantly dumps it on top of Gus, covering him in pens, pencils, and a single highlighter. Gus lets out another groan of pain.
ALLEN CHANEY: I guess that’s gonna have to tide me over til Annihilation. No, seriously please someone bring me a Garden Weasel.
Allen dusts his pants off and leans down to pick up Bill, holding him and giving him a nice little pet because he deserves it for being such a cute little guy and helpful cohost.
ALLEN CHANEY: Ladies and gentlemen thank you for tuning into the first and probably only episode of The Cunt Ledger as this was really only for a one-off joke and I’ve already lost interest. Please stay tuned for a new episode of….Last Call with Carson Daly? No no that can’t be right. WHY WON’T YOU DIE, CARSON DALY! Also hit me up with your agent's phone number. Dude seems to be a miracle worker. Bye!
Allen waves goodbye as the applause sign signals the audience to cheer and clap as the camera fades out.
“Talent alone won't make you a success. Neither will being in the right place at the right time, unless you are ready. The most important question is: 'Are you ready?'”
-Johnny Carson
