Witness… The Friendly Ghosts

Well, it’s Halloween week. So what better way to celebrate with a good, ol’ fashioned ghost story! Well, I guess it isn’t ol’ fashioned. It certainly takes inspiration from ol’ fashioned ghost stories, but I hope I was able to put a little spin on things. I also hope it is indeed good. I like it; that’s what really matters in the end. Right? I mean, sure, I have a constant need for attention and praise like every other artist, but self-esteem that doesn’t come from others is also important. Right? Right??

Anyways, “The Corduroy Bunny”!

I probably mentioned this in an earlier blog somewhere, but during the initial inception of this series, I basically took the R.L. Stine route and came up with titles before knowing what the stories would be. I would assign those titles to various improv teams, and also maybe assign character names to each member of said team, once again not knowing who the characters were or what their exact roles would be. Before “The Corduroy Bunny” became about a bunny, it was going to be called “The Teddy Bear” and would be about, well, you get it. The team that I wanted to perform it was Zipper Dipper.

To be perfectly honest, I don’t think I’ve ever been 100% on who was actually on Zipper Dipper. Like most improv teams, the cast was constantly evolving, but for whatever reason, I didn’t have them in my orbit as much as I did other teams. I had a vague idea of who was a member, but I wasn’t always able to catch their show, The Divination Intervention, which is a shame, because I love the concept: improv based on tarot cards. Dan Goslee (Max) is the only surefire member of the team I ended up casting for the podcast. In any case, this is the long way of saying, Sorry, Zipper Dipper, and sorry to those I neglected to mention in the Special Thanks section of the credits. I did my best to recall who was on the team at the time I conceived of “The Teddy Bear,” so if I missed anybody, which I’m sure I did, apologies. Mea Culpa.

Zipper Dipper backstage at Stage Werx, 8/23/16. 📷: Zipper Dipper.

From left to right: Bri Cala, Josh Mahoney, Molly Wiebe, Beto McQuade, David Chalk, Dan Goslee, Maggie Beasley.

(I missed a few of those names in the special thanks. Consider this you special thanks 🙏)

One thing I do know for about Zipper Dipper is that they always had kind of a spooky, supernatural slant to their improv. Before The Divination Intervention, which later became simply titled The Tarot Show, their sets were inspired by ghost stories or strange events the cast or audience had experienced. This made the selecting the genre for their episode a cinch. It would be something spooky, and of course, something silly.

The awesome logo for The Divination Intervention.

Before it was ever a haunted house story, I knew the tale would involved some kind of possessed toy or doll, a la Annabelle or Chucky, only I knew this new doll would be benevolent, and yet every action it took would be perceived by the “haunted” family as evil and ghastly. Why exactly I changed the possessed doll from a stuffed bear to a stuffed rabbit, I’m not sure, but I’m sure it had something to do with mildly parodying Margery Williams’ classic book, The Velveteen Rabbit (which is excerpted in the episode because it’s in the public domain, so ha, I beat the system!). Obviously, the two stories share little similarity to one another, but… I don’t know, it just felt like a fun thing to do, don’t judge me! Not everything needs to be nuanced.

However, on the topic of nuance, I do think this is the most nuanced episode of the series so far. I set out from the start to tell a story about chasing things that hurt you because this is something I tend to do quite often. Before and during the writing process (hell, continuing to this day, to a certain degree), I was unknowingly in the middle of a dying friendship. I would continually try and contact this person, because A) it was Covid and I needed some version of social activity, and B) they were my friend and friends talk to each other. However, for whatever reasons, I would be “left on read” the majority of the time. Actually, not even “left on read”; there was mystery to whether or not they even bothered to look at my messages, which is a huge pet peeve I’m sure we all share, but for me, it can be unbearable, and it made me wonder what the hell was going on. I admit, I poked the proverbial bear more than once, trying to reach out in a fashion that could be seen as clingy and desperate, and yeah, I felt clingy and desperate, because I was so confused as to why this person just stopped talking to me, especially after so many years of being so close.

It’s only after calling out their behavior and how hurtful it was to me that they finally got back to me. In their message, they said that it was obvious they didn’t have the bandwidth for a proper friendship at that time, so maybe it would be best to part ways. So, yay, an answer? One that left me even more confused than I was before, though. I told them outright that, no, I wasn’t giving up on this friendship and they couldn’t get rid of me, which I now kind of look back on and consider a reaction filled to the brim with entitlement and privilege, which just goes to show you that knee-jerk responses probably aren’t the best thing in the world. That isn’t to say I was harsh and profane to this person, but it did take them out of the equation and basically left no room for compromise, even though, technically, it seemed they were also unwilling to compromise for me. What this resulted in was, well, somewhat appropriately, chasing a ghost. Trying to talk to someone who I knew wasn’t there and then getting frustrated and down on myself when I didn’t receive an answer. Every time I attempted to make contact, I wouldn’t get what I wanted back, so every time, I was triggered. But I kept doing it. I kept causing myself pain. And I couldn’t understand why I wasn’t seeing the forest for the trees: none of this was worth it, not when it came to my mental health and well-being. None of it.

*deep breath*

ANYWAY, that’s the long, TMI explanation of what I wanted the story to be about. June the bunny is convinced this family can give her what she’s been wanting all these years, and even though the proof is in the pudding that they want nothing to do with her, she keeps trying, all the while ignoring the good she has right in front of her. Nelson and Anthony are clearly not supposed to be with each other— their relationship seems to be based more on sex than true affection— but they would rather live in dysfunction than be alone. I truly do wonder if a majority of people in this world engage in behavior like this. They’re too focused on their wants, their desires, and refuse to broaden their horizons. Or they fear vulnerability, so instead of facing some dark truths, they put on an elaborate outfit and play pretend, mimicking what they think “happy” looks like. Every episode of this series explores a thing I see in myself that I’d like to change or fix or enhance, and now that I think about it, “The Corduroy Bunny” might be the most personal yet.

But also, you know, presented as a comedy with jokes about farts, Wikipedia and sex in public.

—Andy

Zipper Dipper winning Thunderdome, 9/9/2016.

Fun fact: that blonde guy trying to get David to not hold up the Thunderdome trophy, Cowoline McCow, by its already broken leg is me, hosting the show in character as Ricky Rampage.