ALECBALDWIN

The Imagined Adventures Of Alec Baldwin

PAGE ONE 

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AB: Yes, yes, I’m sure I should have worn grey pants. I’m all dark on top, light on the bottom. It’s embarrassing. Guess what? The former mayor’s here. Guess what? He’s wearing dark-colored pants. Trust me, it’s a better look. It is. You have no idea.

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PAGE TWO

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AB: Why, yes, other people are wearing khakis, but what does that matter? This was a bad apparel choice. Am I blaming you? No, certainly not. Am I going to lose my temper? What? That’s ridiculous. I only do that when paparazzi are around – or when I’m having a bad day. I was having a good day – up until the moment I looked like I stepped out of an advertisement for GAP Kids.

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PAGE THREE

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AB: I am breathing deeply. I’m Alec Baldwin. I always breathe deeply.

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PAGE FOUR

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AB: Dropped call. Really? I hate you phone . . . with a deep rage . . . that I haven’t felt . . . since yesterday.

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PAGE FIVE

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AB: What? No, I didn’t hang up on you. The call dropped. It dropped. Calls drop. Welcome to the 21st century, where calls drop and I feel everyone’s eyes upon me. Examining me. Judging me. For what? For wearing a blue blazer and light tan pants.

A classic look? Who decides these things? Classic my ass. It doesn’t work. It doesn’t work. No, it doesn’t. I have this dark clothes combo on top, balanced by light pants on the bottom. I’m not taking responsibility for this . . . Yes, I’m staying calm . . . I’m . . . calm.  Well, can you? Can you get me a new pair of slacks? Something in charcoal, maybe. A light slate or granite would work. I’d even settle for houndstooth.

What the . . . ?

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PAGE SIX

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AB: Ugggh. A deep rage, phone. A deep, deep rage.

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PAGE SEVEN

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AB: Look, I don’t know how much you heard of the last call, but I’ll text you a picture of the former mayor’s pants just so we’re on the same page. Now, I gotta go. That’s right. I have to . . . I have a bus to catch. Yeah, a bus . . . It’s a wheeled vehicle with people in it. That wasn’t rude, that was a  . . . Where am I going? Some event before the thing. Just courier some new pants my way. Please . . . I’ll text you the address. Can you? Will you?  . . . Great. Thank you. You’re the best. Goodbye . . . Yes, I will stay calm.

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PAGE EIGHT

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AB: What is this? Some sort of joke? Khakis to my left. Khakis to my right. Stay calm, man. Stay calm. You’re gonna be on a tiny bus with small group of people. They will be judging. And who knows? They may even be paparazzi. I feel them lurking. I’m Alec Baldwin . . . I’m staying calm . . . and I am keeping my head level and my heart open wide.

— THE END —