observed (would-be) funny man

The setup: hungover freelancer bellies up to table with professional, theatrically trained, seasoned, sober, and flawlessly skinned comedy writers to attempt to contribute humor.

Background: This is the Sunday afternoon writing meeting for the Portland based Ego Productions, which, since July, has been tickling audiences from the stage of the Fez with its "sketch comedy at the speed of light." The meeting harnesses talent from everyone in the production. Today, Chris Woolsey, Ricardo Delgado, Andrea Algiers, Eden Nelson, JR Wickman, producing director Lizz Leiser, and first timer Mark Bridges take part.

The method: Portland transplant Leiser uses her Chicago style of "writing in the round"; tight scene sketches are noted on canary-yellow notepads, then quickly passed around. Guest writer will try desperately not to get in the way of the pro-comedy that might make into their current bladder-busting production, "Superego: Let It Burn."
"No pressure," Leiser says, "The important thing is to keep the flow. Of a thousand sketches maybe nine of them are accepted. The majority of them suck."

Action! As Leiser’s go, on or two scene openers must be produced. Eden scribbles and giggles madly. "Superego" doesn’t use pop-cultural references, which keep the shows timelessly funny, but me blocked. ("We’re nor topical," said Leiser, "there’s no celebrity impersonations, nothing that can be seen on TV. It goes back to the vaudevillian kind of sketch comedy where the focus was on characters.") J. Lo's my muse and she's not allowed in the house! Funny lines fly by. Is this what an aspiring porn star feels, his first day on the set? You have to produce, repeatedly and you want to be money. I finally throw down something about a drunk dogcatcher but poor penmanship leads to a misreading as "dog-catheter."

As the end of each round, the scenes are read in pairs. Their timing and delivery are sharp, cutting my funny bone. Two paper piles are formed, one on the top and one under the table, the good and the garbage. From round No. 1, a drive through couturier sketch makes the cut (Leiser says, "Comedy platinum!" and Bridges kisses the notepad). Delgado's worked out a doctor's office bit—too scatological for the stage—but I smuggle it under my shirt. Subsequent rounds bear more golden comedy fruit: a pig farmer bit, a buddy who can't keep his eyes off his friend's man-boobs.

Will this great group keep any of the guest writer's lines? Or was I "comedy-kill"? Catch the show this Friday. (I'll be the chewing my nails in the front row.)

Ego Productions' "Superego: Let It Burn" is at 9 p.m. Friday and March 11m Fez Ballroom, 316 SW 11th Ave.: $7, 503-784-4904. For more info, log onto www.egoproductions.org.

-Lee Willaims
Special to The Oregonian