Joshua of Jericho Street: The untold story

Editors note: This column, set 25 years in the future, is purely a work of satire and invention.

FADE IN

SCENE: OUTSIDE "JERICHO HOUSE," PRIVATE RESIDENTIAL REHAB CENTER, DOWNTOWN PHILADELPHIA, 25 YEARS FROM NOW – NIGHT

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A man, aging but still movie-star handsome – HINT! – tumbles out of a police van onto the asphalt. He curses, picks himself up, dusts himself off and smoothes his hair back.

MAN
Bleeping Tribbishers.
I bet they run this place, too.

COP
Watch it, buddy. You're gonna
tick off the wrong person.
Someone whose granny was made
into an end table, a plastic statue,
or even vaporized.

MAN
Yeah, right. Keep it up,
Officer O'Witzsky, you'll get
free tickets to my Alien Invasion
theme park. See how cheerful
you stay.

COP
Don't forget your Oscar.
It'll make a great centerpiece
for Alien worship. In prison.
YOU keep it up.

The man begins whistling. He drops his baggage on the sidewalk, curses some more. An alarm goes off.

At that, a plumpish, pleasant-looking woman in her early 50s, holding a little sausage of a yappy dachshund under her arm, opens the front door of a small neat townhouse.

Don't be fooled by the dog. Sioux – matronly in baggy T-shirt, voluminous Bermuda shorts, clogs, frosted hair, red-framed spectacles – means business.

MAN
Greetings. I'm Joshua of
Jericho Street. And who's this?

He chucks the dog under its snout. It growls. The man turns around and gives a showy wave to the cop.

WOMAN
Hi, I'm Sioux. I'll be
your hostess during your stay.
May I call you Josh?

JOSHUA
Sure, if you genuflect first.

SIOUX
And this is Norbert!
Life is easy. Rehab is hard.
Welcome to Number
Nine Jericho.

Kneeling, the man fixates his gaze on the little dog and begins talking doggy baby-talk.

JOSHUA
Poochie-pie. You're made for the
movies. Wanna elope?

SIOUX
Nah. He just had his walk.
Listen, my neighbors think I run
a respectable bed and breakfast here,
so please let's keep your visit on the QT.
I don't need any trouble with Licenses
and Inspections. Norbert! Behave!

JOSHUA
I hope you're not Tribbish.
Are you? My daddy says Tribs
cause the worst wars.
And my daddy's always right.
On the other hand, they say
Tribbish girls are –

SIOUX
Oh, please don't start!
And here I thought
you were just misquoted.
Silly me.

Suddenly, several neighbors materialize out of nowhere, congregating on the sidewalk. They turn their attention to the newcomer and seem to recognize him.

NEIGHBOR NO. 1
OK, it is you! I was right.
How about an autograph?
Please? I've seen all your movies.
Over and over.

JOSHUA
No autographs today, guys.
Trying to be here anonymously.
It's hard. Otherwise I'd be paparazzi'd
to death.

NEIGHBOR NO. 2
Forget autographs. I saw
"TOAD WORRIER" and it
rocked. I just want your buzz.
Hide your bubblegum and canned soda
around Sioux. She's a health nut.
I think she's onto me.

Looking a little peeved, Sioux ambles back over. She's balancing her little dog in one hand, and a water ice in the other. Through an act of sheer will, her frown becomes a dazzling smile, and her whole face lights up. She pats Joshua's midsection.

SIOUX
Hey, Josh, ice cream's in the
freezer, for whenever. Looks like
you don't have to worry.
Again, welcome to Jericho House, pal.
We're all real people here ...

At that, the neighbors stop whatever they're doing and give big grins. One holds out a pen, indicating Josh sign his forearm.

SIOUX
Yo, gang. Please, no bothering
Josh now. Don't annoy him.
Leave him alone and let him do
his thing, OK?

JOSHUA
Shema Yisroel ... Loaves and fishes ...
Pastrami and rye, hold the Russian.
Tallyho!

SIOUX
... Josh, this is a no-smoking house
but we all smoke. Out back.
What can I say? You get half
the second shelf in the fridge,
and please write your name on
all your food, a corner of the kitchen pantry,
one small shelf in the bathroom medicine cabinet,
half a bureau in the bedroom,
and an inch or two of the hall closet
to hang your baseball jackets,
wrestling jerseys, running shorts,
whatever. Oh, and air-raid drills are
mandatory! Homeland Security, yanno.

JOSHUA
Thy rod and thy staff
they comfort me ...

SIOUX
After you unpack your stuff, Josh,
come back downstairs and join our
little theatrical production.
The Number Nine Jericho Players.
Get ready. We use lots of ketchup.
Today we're re-enacting
the Crucifixion scene
from "The Transfiguration of the Alien."
I'm sure you haven't forgotten
those lines. And bring
your crown of thorns,
if you packed it.

FADE OUT