Woody’s Nightmare

While condemning Harvey Weinstein, Woody Allen said, “You also don’t want it to lead to a witch hunt atmosphere, a Salem atmosphere, where every guy in an office who winks at a woman is suddenly having to call a lawyer to defend himself.”

 Hackers have obtained and leaked one of Woody Allen’s actual nightmares to see what this world looks like to him.

SCENE: The vestry room of the Meeting House somewhere in Hollywood, 2017.

GOVERNOR McGOWAN: Now, Woody Allen, there is abundant evidence in our hands to show that you are a witch and that you perform the most perfidious kind of witchcraft and horndoggery. Do you deny it?

WOODY ALLEN: Uch, oh, now, see, see, this is — what I was afraid of, this, this, this witch hunt — I mean, I’m from Brooklyn, what do I know from witches? If, I mean, I could do magic, I’d have made the girl at the dry cleaners give me her number.

JUDGE PALTROW: Contemptuous disrespect! Your very words condemn you with their wicked microaggressions!

WOODY: Microaggressions, I, see, that, that just makes me feel inadequate. L-like, “Why can’t you be more like Tony, his aggressions are, hm, tchk, so, so sexy and, y’know, medium-sized?”

Salem

REVEREND JOLIE: The Devil drives you to wickedness.

CLERIC TAMBLYN: (And for purposes of these proceedings, every time we say “the Devil” we’re referring to “your penis.”)

WOODY: That’s, yeah, that’s fair.

REVEREND JOLIE: The Devil makes you treat every woman like an object.

WOODY: I, is that so bad?  What I wouldn’t give to be, uh, y’know, objectified, y’know, for just ten or fifteen minutes even.

NURSE MILANO: I saw Goody Woody with Bill Cosby! I saw Goody Woody with Polanski! Arrest him!

WOODY: See, tch, I knew this would happen, this hostile climate to innocent winkings and grabbings, ehrm, I knew it was a bad idea to represent myself, I don’t even, y’know, enjoy representational art.

JUDGE TEIGEN: Your lies would have materialized in any event. We burn a hot fire here; it melts down all concealment.

WOODY: I’m no good with fire. When I was young I, I, ehm, tried to be an arsonist, but I had y’know no follow-through. The police were called in to, ech, investigate a rampant rash of mad charrings.

DEPUTY GOVERNOR GRAHAM: The court acknowledges the defendant’s attempts at deflectionary cuteness, but we are discussing actual crimes here. Your shtick won’t save you now.

WOODY: Uch, you’re all so humorless and, and, and female. Is there any provision for being judged by a jury of my, y’know, my, my bros?

SHERIFF JUDD: The Devil makes you — and by “you” I mean “dudes” — makes you think you can be funny and cute and transgressive and flawed and complicated and with slightly more progressive friends who congratulate themselves on mildly encouraging you to behave, while women get to be scolding harridans — does that seem fair?

WOODY: I — at least it’s a job?

JUDGE THOMPSON: There lurks in your heart an evil.

WOODY: It’s true, y’know, but my doctor put me on Lipitor. I told him all I wanted was to just, ahm, outlive my enemies. Speaking of which, based on how things are going here I, I wonder if I can get a refund on that co-pay.

REVEREND BANKS: Take him to the dunking-stool!

WOODY: Oh, geez, eh, does it, y’know, have to be the dunking-stool? I mean ’cause, y’know, do you sanitize it after each dunking, ’cause I’m a germaphobe. Also a thanatophobe. I’m, let’s cut to the chase, I’m basically a phobe. Do you provide an alternative punishment for, um, eh, people who are allergic to punishment?

PASTOR LAWRENCE: Nope, nope, for harassers and rapists and assaulters and poor innocent winkers it’s pretty much all just drownings and dunkings…

JUDGE STREEP: Except for that one guy. Who became president.

PASTOR LAWRENCE: Yeah, what happened there?

CONSTABLE RODRIGUEZ: Just take him away.

WOODY: Now, see, you wouldn’t know this because you’re, y’know, younger than most of my moles, but — there was a time when a guy could, uch, uh, live his life, y’know. Make his movies. Women could help out or stay out of the way, either was fine. I mean maybe he makes a few mistakes. Winks at the wrong girl. Marries the wrong stepdaughter. B-but people would, y’know, let him be, as long as he was a, a, an acknowledged genius and y’know had testicles. They were simpler times. And, and by “simpler” I mean uh, er, tchk, ah, um, ehm, erk, “very convenient for me.”

GOVERNOR McGOWAN: Go! You are condemned!

WOODY: Where’s, y’know, Marshall McLuhan when you, ah, y’know, need him?

Exeunt.

 

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