Up, Down, and All Around
[Three Sitcoms Colliding in the 80s]
Cast
The Jeffersons (George Jefferson, Louise, Florence)
Sanford and Son (Fred Sanford, Lamont, Aunt Esther)
The Cosby Show (Cliff Huxtable, Clair, Theo, Rudy, and more)
*
Scene: A Sunny Saturday in Harlem
George Jefferson is standing outside Jefferson Dry Cleaners, nattily dressed, arms crossed and muttering.
George: "I tell ya, Weezy, if one more customer walks in askin’ for quarters for the dryer, I'm gonna start charging rent!"
Louise (Weezy) appears with a concerned look.
Louise: "George, you haven’t smiled all morning. What’s wrong now?"
George: "That Lamont Sanford kid from Watts called again. Wants me to sponsor his new business idea: 'vintage recycling.' Said he's turning his dad’s junkyard into an 'eco-museum.' What kinda California foolery is that?"
Louise: "You promised to support Black businesses!"
George: "Yeah, BLACK businesses. Not rusty bicycle graveyards!"
George: "I'm self-made, Louise! I pulled myself up by my own shoelaces!"
Louise: "And landed flat on your behind every time you tried to skip the instructions."
Louise: “You spent $300 on NFTs and you don’t even know what they are.”
George: “They’re digital investments!”
Louise: “They’re digital nonsense, and now we own a cartoon chicken in sunglasses.”
George: “I made a TikTok. Went viral.”
Louise: “You fell off the hoverboard, George.”
George: “Exactly. Classic physical comedy. Chaplin would’ve cried.”
Just then, a loud backfiring sound echoes. A beat-up red truck pulls up. It’s Fred Sanford and his son, Lamont, straight from Watts.
Fred: "This is it, Lamont! The promised land, the East Side! Smells like mothballs and overpriced shirts!"
Lamont: "Pop, don’t embarrass me. Mr Jefferson invited us."
Fred: "He invited you. I just came for the free coffee."
George grumbles as Fred strolls in like he owns the place.
Fred: "Hey, George! Fancy digs. Must be nice living in a building where the elevator actually works!"
George: "Fred, what brings a junk dealer to civilization? You lose your mule and wind up here by mistake?"
Fred: "Funny. I just thought I'd visit the only man who sells starch like it's cologne."
Florence, the Jeffersons’ wisecracking maid, walks in sipping coffee.
Florence: “Good morning, Mr. Jefferson.”
George: “What’s good about it? You’re still here.”
Florence: “And yet somehow, your breath arrived before you did.”
George: “Florence, how do you always manage to show up when I least want to see you?”
Florence: “It’s a gift, like your ability to turn wine into whine.”
Florence: "Good Morning Mr Sanford, welcome! Don’t mind Mr. Jefferson, he gets nervous around successful junk collectors."
George: "Florence, zip it before I assign you to iron every sock in the building."
Suddenly, the door swings open. In walks Dr Heathcliff Huxtable, with a Jell-O pudding pop in hand and a curious look on his face.
Cliff: "Now hold on, now hold on… I was promised dry-cleaning, not a live episode of ‘Who’s Funnier Than Who.’"
George (rolling eyes): "What do you want, Huxtable? Laundry advice or comedy tips?"
Cliff: "Neither. My wife sent me here because Rudy spilled chocolate pudding on her good church blouse. That’s a federal emergency in our household."
Fred: "That ain't an emergency. You ever try to get barbecue sauce off polyester in August? THAT’S an emergency."
Cliff: "Well, in my house, a pudding-stained blouse can start a 48-hour silence campaign from Clair."
Fred: "Oooh! That’s worse than a frying pan to the head."
Another door bursts open again, this time it’s Aunt Esther, Bible in one hand, handbag in the other.
Esther: "FRED G SANFORD! Don’t you go embarrassing our people in front of this respectable doctor!"
Fred: "Esther, the only thing respectable about you is that you still got the same mustache from 1956!"
George (cracking up): "She looks like she could pass for James Brown’s stunt double!"
Esther: "Don’t make me lay holy hands on y’all!"
Cliff: "Ohhh lawd. This is better than cable."
Just then, Theo and Lamont awkwardly make eye contact.
Theo: "You ever feel like you're the only sane one surrounded by cartoon characters?"
Lamont: "Every day of my life, man."
Theo: "You from Watts?"
Lamont: "Yeah."
Theo: "Respect. Your dad called my dad a 'jive turkey' on the phone yesterday. Took him 30 minutes to explain what that meant."
Lamont: "He still doesn’t know."
The scene shifts to the back office where Weezy, Clair Huxtable, and Florence are sipping tea.
Clair: "I’m not sure who’s worse, my husband or George."
Florence: "Girl, at least Cliff has a medical degree. George can barely operate the microwave."
Weezy: "Now y’all leave my George alone. He means well... he just delivers it... sideways."
Back in the lobby, things get wild. Fred is now mock-chasing George with a feather duster, Cliff is lecturing Theo on sock hygiene, and Esther is trying to bless the water cooler.
Esther: "Let this water be HOLY and not FILLED with the DEVIL’S GERM PARTICLES!"
Fred: "Esther, you bless one more inanimate object and I swear I’ll dunk you in bleach myself!"
Cliff: "She might come out sanitized and sanctified."
Suddenly, Rudy Huxtable runs in with Diane (from the Cosby Show) following.
Rudy: "Uncle George! Mr. Sanford! We’re making a play about all of you!"
Diane: "It’s called ‘Funky Fathers and Fancy Footwear.’"
Fred: "What kinda title is that?"
George: "I like the sound of ‘Money Laundering: The Jefferson Story’ better."
As the sun begins to set, all the families gather for a group photo in front of Jefferson Cleaners. Louise stands beside Weezy, Lamont and Theo do exaggerated muscle poses, and Fred tries to sneak bunny ears behind Esther’s head.
Photographer: "Say cheese!"
George: "Say rent-controlled!"
Cliff: "Say pudding!"
Fred: "Say ‘junkyard empire!’"
The camera flashes. Everyone laughs. For one absurd, hilarious moment, the junk man, the dry cleaner, the doctor, and the loudmouths were just one big sitcom family, making fun of each other, bonding, and proving that no matter your address, you’re always just one joke away from home.
Authors Note:
And boy! Didn’t we relish them every single day of the week. . .