Making A New Friend (short film)

Posted by Jason Schueppert on Dec 11th, 2006

Making A New Friend

A busy night at home is interraupted by unwanted houseguest Crispin Glover. This is an idea that was floating around with Chayden, Ben Herreid, and I a few years ago. We never got around to shooting it for DecoDv.


It may help if you’re familiar with Glover and his off-screen persona. If you’ve seen the “Late Night with David Letterman” episode where Glover refuses to break character, kicks at Dave (while proclaiming “I am strong!”), and is then thrown off the show, or have seen the video for “Clowny Clown Clown”, or perhaps have heard of his film “What Is It?” that features only actors with downs syndrome, I think you’ll grin at “Making A New Friend.”

The song is “Times Are Bad” by Adam Green.

Movie by Jason Schueppert.

“Drinking As Religion” (short story)

Posted by Jason Schueppert on Dec 11th, 2006

They say he was born without fingernails. After six months of drinking a stool away from him, vodka and curiosity got the better of me.

“Buy me a drink,” he spoke to the empty mug in front of him.

I bought him that drink and the tale began. When he was sixteen, Bill’s grades were good. He was a happy, good looking kid, nothing like the grizzled, worn, middle aged man in front of me. Now he wore flannel and worked at a paper mill. His best friend back then had been Skippy Peterson. The two were inseparable until Skippy started getting into drugs.

“Shit, I forgot to mention the old man. I can’t go on without introducing the old man.” He was still speaking to the mug.

Bill’s old man worked at a meat packing plant and drank heavily. The two of them got on well during the day, but after dinner, the old man got mean from drink. One time he caught Bill’s older brother, Karl, sneaking a cheese sandwich after eleven.

“You little faggot! You buy that bread? That your cheese?” The old man grabbed Karl by the shirt and tried his hardest to knock the scavenging teeth out of his head. He succeeded in beating four of them out.

“We knew to be careful. I always was. I’d be home well before curfew. I wouldn’t even leave my room after ten, in case he saw me in the hall. If I had to piss, I’d use a cup or bottle. Tough luck if I had to shit.”

One night while Bill was sleeping, Skippy came by. No one locked their doors back then. Skippy just walked right in. He opened the door to Bills’ room and watched him sleep. Skippy’d just taken three hits of acid and was in a very off state of mind.

“I slept naked back then. It was some stupid phase I was going through…”

After a few minutes of watching Bill, Skippy realized that he wasn’t acting normal. Bill was acting normal. Emulating Bill, Skippy took off his clothes. Then he climbed into bed with him. The acid was scaring him, he needed an anchor. Needless to say, Bill woke immediately.

“I must have screamed. I didn’t know what the hell was going on.”

John, Bill’s father, came storming into the room, ready to pound some respect into his son. He was furious the boy had awoke him.

“The old man just lost it. He saw me first, naked, standing. Then he saw Skippy in the bed. Skippy just stared.”

John dragged Bill, naked, to the garage. He threw him to the concrete floor. He tore a pair of pliers from the wall and marched to Bill, terrified and cowering on the floor. John grabbed Bill by the wrist.

“I should have run when he went to the tools. I was scared, he was a vicious man and I was terrified. He never said a thing to me, before, or after. He wouldn’t even look me in the eyes. He just started pulling. It took a few tries in the beginning; pliers don’t take to fingernails too well. Then he got the hang of it.” Bill looked worn out, like he’d told this tale a few times and it was wearing on him. I signaled to the bartender for another couple of shots. We got those out of the way before he finished.

“I screamed. I begged. The pain was horrible,” Bill looked to his smooth fingertips. “The feeling of something ripping out of your skin, feeling it slide underneath on its way out. The old man finished and left me alone, naked and sobbing on the floor of the garage. We didn’t talk much after that.”

Story by Jason Schueppert.

Forward Facing Child (short story)

Posted by Jason Schueppert on Dec 21st, 2006


Operator: “Chrysler corporation, could you please hold.”

Roger: “No, I can’t fucking hold. This is an emergency!” After a few seconds Roger realizes that they weren’t asking a question. He was going to be on hold regardless.

Some time passes.

Operator: “Hello, thank you for calling-”

Roger: “Dammit, I’ve been on hold for ten minutes!”

Operator: “Sir, I would appriciate it if you wouldn’t use that kind of language. Now how can Chrysler help you?”

Roger: “Sorry, listen I have a bit of a problem.”

Operator: “And what would that be, sir?”

Roger: “Well, I was driving my nephew to school (he’s six), and-”

Operator: “Oh, they’re so cute at that age!”

Roger: “Well, yeah, I guess. So, I accidentally ran over a road construction cone and he started laughing really hard. So I ran over some more.”

Operator: “Sir, let me stop you right there. Chrysler and it’s subsudiaries are not responsible for any damage or charges to it’s customers or their vehilces incurred by reckless behavior.”

Roger: “Well, it didn’t seem reckless at the time.”

Operator: “No, no it never does, now does it?”

Roger: “I guess not…”

Operator: “So what happened, sir?”

Roger: “Well, the air-bag went off.”

Operator: “Oh, are you and your nephew ok?”

Roger: “Well, I’m fine. But Nicky didn’t fare so well.”

Operator: “Sir, we plainly spell out in the manual that you are not to have children in the front seat. Air-bags are dangerous to children.”

Roger: “Yeah, apparently.”

Operator: “What happened to him?”

Roger: “He doesn’t have a head.”

Operator: “Excuse me?”

Roger: “His head. It’s gone.”

Operator: “Excuse me?”

Roger: “The air-bag, it went off and it took his head right off.”

Operator: “Oh, oh my.”

Roger: “Yeah, I know.”

Operator: “Well, what do you want us to do about that?”

Roger: “Do you think you could tell my sister for me?”

Operator: …

Roger: “She’s probably going to be pretty mad.”

Jason Schueppert

Knock-knock (short story)

Posted by Jason Schueppert on Dec 28th, 2006


“Hey, Peter, do you have a minute?” Jason hangs his head out of his office a flags Peter down.

“Sure,” Peter, who was on his way to the bathroom, turns around and steps into Jason’s office. “What can I do for you?”

Jason: “Knock knock.”

Peter: “Who’s there?”

Jason: “The interrupting cow.”

Peter: “The interrupti-“

Jason: “Moo!”

Peter: “So the joke is that you’re interrupting me?”

Jason: “Yes.”

Peter stares at his co-worker.

Peter: “That was stupid.”

Jason just stares at Peter, a grin spread across his face. Peter stares and wonders if it would be rude to leave.

Jason: “Knock knock.”

Peter: “Who’s there?”

Jason: “The interrupting robot.”

Peter: “The interuptin-“

Jason: “Moo.”

Peter: “That one doesn’t even make sense. Robot’s don’t say moo.”

Jason: “They do if you program them to.”

Peter: “Look, I really have to get back to work, there’s a lot of stuff piling-“

Jason: “Knock knock.”

Peter sighs.

Peter: “Who’s there?”

Jason: “The interrupting chicken.”

Peter: “The interrupting chicken who?”

Peter waits patiently for the punch line as he wonders why he is compelled to say ‘who’s there’ when people say ‘knock knock. Seven seconds pass.

Jason: “Cluck”

Peter: “I don’t think you did that one right. You didn’t interrupt me, and you waited a really long time before the punch line.”

Jason: “Chickens are very polite creatures, they never interrupt.”

“Are you OK? Is everything all right at home?” Peter begins to worry about his safety in Jason’s office.

Jason: “Knock knock.”

Peter: “Who’s there?”

Jason: “The interrupting Mormon.”

Peter: “The interrupting-“

Jason: “Have you found Jesus?”

“Well that’s really great, Jason. You seem to really have the art of the knock-knock joke down. I’ve gotta get back to work, but thanks for that break. It was great.” Peter finally rises to his feet and begins to exit the office.

Jason: “Knock knock.”

Peter: “Who’s there?”

Jason: “The interrupting cow.”

Peter: “The interrupti-“

Jason: “Moo!”

Peter: “What was different about that?”

Jason: “Nothing.”

Peter leaves, hurrying out the door. Jason stares off into space, pleased. As Peter walks back to his desk, his bladder bounces around and he remembers he never went to the bathroom. He decides he does not like Jason, not one bit.

Jason Schueppert

FREEDOM (guest column)

Posted by Jason Schueppert on Jan 1st, 2007

It’s bumps from all the ancient Chinese people that love America. Only they don’t know the things in themselves like one would expect. Stability is the only measure by which we can adjust our symmetrical wayfaring. In that it isn’t made of fantasies thereof, insofar as we find opportunities like the one aforementioned desirable if not affable. Perhaps even ineffable, but we will leave that to the poor to decide this, today, maybe. What you mustn’t forget, at least not initially is that there have been many post-ancients that think they are something. They are in fact not at all, but this doesn’t stop them from thinking this, which to them is fabulous.

The rats are back in town! We can’t find homes for them. The truth is, really, that they can’t find homes for themselves, but no one seems to care about things like that. I’m living free, here.

Autonomous nations like the rats have unforeseen circumstances in their pockets, like. This occurs to me but no one else, they haven’t gotten it. Fat blacks sat on the rats. Eat It Now!!!

Guest column by Chris Hontos.

Depressing Holiday Haiku (guest column)

Posted by Jason Schueppert on Jan 6th, 2007

oh songs for christmas
mom and dad sing by the fire
where they burned my hand

mom please be happy
i hate it when you hit me
my only present

sing jingle bells
i love presents and kittens
why did dad rape me?

sorry mom i spilled
that is ok son its christmas
now take off your pants

i get so lonely
the holidays make me sad
i play with my gun

christmas time with dad
sing songs as i touch his dick
call it jingle balls

big brother- when you
call it a christmas present
i still feel dirty

stay up and watch close
santa will fill my stocking
uncle fills my mouth

free gifts from sears- nice!
people are really giving
when you have cancer

wrapping gifts for friends
i love you baby jesus
did i just OD?

have a nice christmas
i want to be happy bad
inject drugs again

no presents at home
i lost my job, wife, and kids
drink myself to death

i can’t face new year
party in a rich penthouse
jump from the ledge- die

Haiku by Stephanie G.

Strays (short story)

Posted by Jason Schueppert on Jan 15th, 2007

His nails clicked on the pavement as he ambled along, tongue lolling out of his mouth. The sweltering heat overwhelmed him as he looked for water to drink. The dirty, gray sidewalk burned the pads of his feet. A black tabby-cat sat in a window, staring at him. He simply glanced at it, tilting his head, and then continued on. There was just no energy to be wasted on cats, not even tabbies.

He loped down an alley and spotted a mound of trash bags, some of the bottoms were torn open. The rich smell of decomposing fruit and meat filled the alley and drew him closer. He dug his snout into the bottom of one of the nearest bags, the one that smelled like meat. He made a low growling sound as he rooted in it, tearing at cloth and fruit, trying to get to his prize.

The bottom of the bag gave way and filth spewed out onto the ground. He found brownish wads of beef and gobbled them down, his mouth snaking forward as the cow slipped backwards. He sniffed and tried to find more amongst the heap, but the beef was gone. There was paper and cloth, some fruit and vegetables, but no meat left in that bag. He couldn’t smell anything else he’d want in the remaining bags, but he tried anyways. He tore at the other bags, biting into the black plastic and pulling, the growl returned. He thrust his mouth back into the bag and immediately jerked backwards, yelping. Something sharp had gotten him and he couldn’t see out of one of his eyes. He slowly backed away from the tip of the hypodermic needle that had gored his left eye. He feared it.

After he’d escaped the pain of the alleyway, he returned to his search for water. The pain was harsh. There was a burning where his eye had been, but he was so thirsty. The heat baked his filthy fur. What had once been a beautiful white coat had now turned a foul yellow and brown. If anyone had bothered to pet him, they would have pulled their hand back in shock from the heat. But nobody bothered petting him anymore, they hadn’t for a long time.

He thought of the people who’d called to him when he’d been younger, when he’d had a name. He couldn’t remember what they’d called him, but they’d said it with enthusiasm, at least for awhile. Then they started yelling it at him. There was a boy and a man, but the boy was hardly ever around. When it was just him and the man, the man ignored him. Sometimes he’d forget to feed him, and the man would yell at him when he nudged the bowl across the kitchen floor. After a while, the boy stopped coming around, and the man cried all the time. Then the man stopped moving. He sat in a chair one day and never got up. The dog was hungry, very hungry, and when a woman opened the door to the apartment one day, he ran. He ran to the street and found food.

He wished the man and the boy were still around.

He heard it before he saw it. The distinct spraying sound made his ears perk up. He looked to the right and down the block somebody had uncapped a fire hydrant, water was spraying everywhere and kids were playing in it.
He ran for it.

There was no notice. No honking or squealing, just a strong force hitting his side. He hadn’t seen the car, it had been on his left. Had he not lost the eye, he would have seen the taxi coming. He didn’t hurt, though. The eye didn’t hurt anymore, either. He just lay on the street, his tongue moving on the pavement as his breathing grew heavier.

A child ran to him. A young girl, she was crying. She stroked his fur and spoke to him. He couldn’t understand, but he was so happy the heat was over with. The thirst was gone too. He wondered if she’d take him home.

Originally published at The Beat.

Jason Schueppert

The Perfect Roommate (short film)

Posted by Jason Schueppert on Jan 22nd, 2007



My first two roommates in college had nauseating body odor that people would comment on. One kid puked in a couch. My mom has spit on me twice. One used to throw parties and not clean up after them. One got high in his room all day. Roommates suck. This is what “The Perfect Roommate” came out of. It’s entirely improvised, and directed by Ryan McNamee and Jason Schueppert.

Sign For Delivery (short story)

Posted by Jason Schueppert on Jan 29th, 2007


“Sign for delivery please,” he holds out the electronic pad for the woman. The UPS man is bored, as usual. He spends his day trying to maximize his deliveries, and the majority of his patrons are confused when they receive a package.

“Oh, a package? For me? Who’s it from?” It’s always the same, people rarely expect him when he arrives, and they always make a game out of guessing who it’s from. This is especially annoying around the holidays.

“You’ll have to check the return address. Please sign.” He shakes the pad he’s holding out to draw her attention to it. The tiny secretary stares, confused, at the pad, and then at the box. Then back to the pad. The UPS man considers punching her in the face.

“PLEASE SIGN, MA’AM” He has other deliveries to make.

The woman glares at him, unable to comprehend why he is such a nasty man. She signs and huffs at him. He leaves.

The woman’s name is Sharon and she works for a business that rents slum housing to students. They jack up the rent and refuse to fix things (perhaps a toilet that is out of commission, or a gas stove with a leak) for the students and then charge them outrageous amounts of money when they move out for “cleaning”. She is not personally to blame, but she is a part of a greater evil.

She opens the package greedily. She hopes it is from the daughter who refuses to speak to her. She jams her hand into the padded envelope, daydreaming at all the possibilities it contains. Her jaw drops.

Her eyes start to tear up.

She doesn’t want to remove her hand from the package.

She hopes it isn’t from her daughter.

She screams and throws the package across the room. She hauls ass to the bathroom to disinfect her hand and spends the next half hour scouring the smell from her finger tips. Later she’ll cut her nails entirely too short to wipe out all trace of the odor.

These packages will show up daily for a month.

Jason Schueppert

Love Meets Microphone: Best Friends Forever (article)

Posted by Jason Schueppert on Feb 1st, 2007

The Minneapolis based group Best Friends Forever took over the KVSC performance studio this past Monday for an hour of cuteness that was simulcast over the airwaves of UTVS and KVSC for Monday Night Live. Their unclassifiable brand of love pop had everybody shaking their hips and bobbing their heads in unison as they played old favorites and material slated for release on their next album. Quirky and adorable was the flavor of the night, as BFF churned out songs about being in love with a ghost, falling into an ice hole, that handsome Orlando Bloom fellow, their unrequited love for Abraham Lincoln and just how much the two ladies adore each others company.

BFF is comprised of real life best friends of twelve years, who parlayed their love into the band, which has been around for ten. Jes Seamans plays bass, Bri Smith strums guitar and pounds the keyboard, while they alternate singing sweet nothings to each other. They’re joined by Jo Rand, who kept pace with a grin at his drum kit.

“Jes and I are originally from Crosby, but we spent a lot of our formative years hanging out in St. Cloud,” said Bri when asked where they’re from. The two of them are longtime friends of KVSC music director Chris Hontos, who hosted the affair on MNL with a hilariously dismissive demeanor and completely irrelevant interview questions ranging from “what’s your email address” to “do you still enjoy root beer?” and “Bri, would you ever drop Jes in the river?”

“It’s hard to describe,” said Jo about the genre blurring sound of the group. “It crosses lines, it’s fun to listen to. It’s pop, rock, dance, prog. I guess it’s really indie pop with an emphasis on dance.”

“Our very first show was opening for the Microphones,” said Bri about working with the lo-fi masters off of indie label K Records. “They were really receptive. We’ve had so much support from other bands while touring. They’ve all been really great about coming up to us and telling us they like our music,” said Bri.

“Even in Minneapolis I’ve noticed that every show we’ve played, one or two people would come up to us afterward and talk to us about the music and how they planned to check out our myspace page,” said Jo.

The line-up for the group has always included Jes and Bri, but their drummers have changed a few times over the years. Karl Rotto is gone from the group, with Jo stepping up to bat.

“I’ve been in a few other bands from Milwaukee,” said Jo when asked about his musical history. “I had a solo thing, but I never really performed. I just mostly recorded in my bedroom. I was involved with the group The Flying Party, and the predecessors to that band like The Kyoto Protocol and a few others.”

Jes went to school in Milwaukee where Jo and she had some overlapping friends, which led to his joining the BFF ranks.

“I’ve been with them for about four months, since late September,” said Jo referring his joining the flock. The three of them look as though they couldn’t be happier playing together, with Jo fitting in perfectly with the flow and style of the group.

BFF have had a handful of releases (an EP, a split 7” with Everybell and Whistle, and a split cassette tape with Terrorclops) on the Minneapolis label Say and Stay Said. Recorded at the Sound Gallery in Minneapolis, their self-titled EP came out in September of 2004 and has been floating around the airwaves and finding itself in small record shops across the country.

“We’re good friends with the guy who runs it,” Bri said about their time at Say and Stay Said. “It was very casual.”

The trio has also utilized myspace to its fullest as a way to get the word out about their shows and giving fans an opportunity to hear tracks from their EP and forthcoming LP.

“It’s actually been pretty awesome. It’s really good for making connections in other cities and touring. It’s really helpful for staying in touch with other bands we’ve met while touring,” said Bri about their page at myspace.com/bestfriendsforeverandfriends.

“We’re working on a full length for Plan-it-x Records. We started recording it about a week and a half ago. We’re hoping to have it out in late or early spring,” said Jes regarding their much awaited follow-up to their self-titled EP.

“We’ve set an unreachable goal of being done by the end of February, but I feel like we need a goal like that or it could so easily take until right when we’re going on tour,” said Bri.

“We have an East coast college tour in mid April and then we hope to cover most of the country on our summer long tour,” said Jo regarding the plans for the immediate future.

The group has made its way across the U.S of A. a handful of times. Stopping in Oregon for the Portland street fair in 2005, they stepped in for Yacht (a.k.a Jona Bechtolt) of The Blow, another cute love band with loads of Net buzz. In Virginia they rocked a roller rink for a festival called Best Friends Day, jamming behind the snack bar.

“They’re funny sh–. They’re just f—— good man, they got their sh– together. They’re good looking and hilarious, what’s not to like?” said Chris Hontos after the MNL performance. He’s not the only one who enjoys their happy tunes, either.

“I enjoy them because they put me in a very good mood because they’re very happy and carefree. They seem to enjoy what they do,” said Ryan McNamee of St. Cloud, who stopped into KVSC to catch the performance.

If you’re hankering to see them live, they have a concert lined up for Saturday the 3rd of February at the Foundation night club on Hennepin in Minneapolis starting at 7:30pm, and just in case you missed the clapping, cuteness, or goofy facial expressions Bri likes to make while performing, the MNL performance will be repeating regularly on UTVS. You can hear four tracks from them at their myspace page, and a few more at www.say-and-stay-said.com.

“How BFF Breaks It Off With Movie Stars”

“How BFF Breaks It Off With Movie Stars”

“My Head In Front Of Your Head”

“BFF’s Theme Song”

“BFF’s Theme Song”



Originally published in the University Chronicle.

Jason Schueppert

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