The Seinfeld gang visits St. Aug

The Seinfeld Gang Visits the Old City (NARROW Satire)

If you saw the “Seinfeld reunion” on Curb Your Enthusiasm a few years ago, forget it. It never happened. It was just like that infamous season of “Dallas” back in the 70’s or 80’s, when the whole previous year was deemed a dream! And also, forget about the last 80% of the final Seinfeld episodes, because they never happened either. The gang never went to Massachusetts en route to Paris, and they were never found guilty of breaking the “Good Samaritan” law.

While they never set out for Paris, they were in fact sitting in the diner after “Jerry” the sitcom got picked up (again) by NBC, and before they decided to go for one last fling on NBC’s dime. They thought about Paris, but when the true decision was made, they decided to visit the obvious choice – the most beautiful city in the world – Saint Augustine.

We join the gang after the NBC private plane landed at Saint Augustine Airport (now known as Northeast Florida Regional Airport), and the car waiting for them whisked them away downtown to Casa Monica, where they would be spending the next three days enjoying our amazing city.

And as they step out of the limo, it went something like…

George: Casa Monica? Is this where we’re staying?

Jerry: NBC said it was the best hotel in town.

George: It looks old!

Jerry: I don’t know. It’s an old city I guess.

George: Casa MONICA? As in Lewinsky?

Jerry: Ewwwww

Elaine: You’d rather Hilton? As in Paris?

George: I’m just saying it’s an odd name for the best hotel. I can’t even think of any other great Monica’s it could be named for. Do they play tennis here? Maybe Monica Seles?

Elaine lunges toward George, but he moves back afraid.

Jerry: The guidebook says it’s named for St. Monica, the mother of St. Augustine whom the city is named after.

Elaine flinches at George again. He jumps.

George: Well it could have been Lewinsky! Maybe Bill stayed here and the naming was part of some settlement.

Jerry: I’m going to leave you sickos and go check in, please stay out of trouble for two minutes.

Jerry goes inside to check in.

Jerry: Seinfeld, party of four.

Hotel Agent: Good morning, Mr. Seinfeld. We are excited to have you saying at our fine hotel. We just want to make sure everything is perfect in your rooms, so if you wouldn’t mind just enjoying the beautiful Saint Augustine weather for a few minutes longer?

Jerry: No problem, how long?

Hotel Agent: Five, ten minutes.

Jerry: Okay, we’ll take a walk around and come back.

Jerry returns to his friends.

Jerry: it’s going to be five, ten minutes.

Elaine: Where did we hear that before?

Kramer: (puzzled look on his face)

George: Well they better not call me Cartwright!

Jerry: And we WON’T send Elaine again with a bribe!

Kramer: Well what are we going to do now?

Elaine: Did you ever think we could WALK and see some of the city? Duh!

Kramer: Okay, but just be careful of alligators.

George: Alligators?

Kramer: I’m scaaaared of alligators!

Elaine: What are you talking about? We’re in DOWNTOWN, not the swamps. There are no alligators!

Kramer: Oh… alligators are everywhere.

George: You’re watching too many GEICO commercials. They’re like this small (separating his fingers about two inches).

Kramer: I’m talking man-eaters! Everywhere! (clicks his lips).

Jerry: Hey, what’s that?

Elaine: It’s a college… something you wouldn’t know about.

George: Flagler College. It looks old.

Jerry: The guidebook says it has like a 60/40 women to men ratio.

George: 60/40? Even I would have had a chance here! And it’s right near the beach! Hoo Hoe!

Jerry: If I went to college, this would have been the place.

Elaine: Oh please Jerry, you would have had to read, and study.

Jerry: I read!

Elaine: Books, Jerry. Books.

Jerry: Oh.

Kramer: And you’d have to be careful of the alligators.

Jerry/George/Elaine: There are no alligators!!!

Elaine: Ooh look. I love these quaint cobblestone streets.

George: Hey! Now we’re talking! It’s called St. George Street!

Elaine: That’s GREAT! We’ll probably end up staying in the George Suite too.

George: I can’t believe this! St. George Street! 60/40 ratio! Sun all year round… Jerry pinch me, I have found heaven!

The gang walks down St. George Street before passing Hypolita Street.

Elaine: Oh look, The Hyppo! Can we stop for Popsicles? It says they are 100% natural.

Kramer: Paletas.

George: What?

Kramer: Paletas. The proper term in a Spanish founded city is not Popsicles, it’s paletas.

Elaine: Whatever, can we stop?

Jerry: Sure. We can expense it I guess.

The gang enters the store:

Hyppo Employee: Welcome to the Hyppo. Can I help you?

Jerry: I’ll have a Banilla Vanana.

Elaine: Datil Strawberry for me.

Kramer: Key Lime for me. Tropical!

George: $3.50? For a Popsicle?!

Kramer: Paleta, George. Paleta. And they’re all natural. It’s a bargain.

George: I could get a whole meal for $3.50.

Elaine: You’re not paying! Just pick one!

George: Okay, Mango Habanero. But $3.50 is outrageous!

The gang leaves with their paletas.

Elaine: Oh. My. God. This is better than sex!

Jerry: I gotta admit, this is fantastic.

Kramer: Best paleta I ever had. Fruity, tangy, it’s very refreshing!

George: OOOHHH.

Jerry: What George?

George: I think it moved!

Elaine: What moved?

George: It. I think “it” moved!

Jerry: Well keep “it” away from me!

George: I’m back baby! I love this City!

Jerry: We should start walking back to check in.

Elaine: It is soooo beautiful here!

Kramer: I might not even mind alligators if I lived here.

Elaine: Oh look, a wax museum! Can we go real quick, please Jerry! Please!!!

Jerry: Okay, but then after that we have to check in.

George: It’s called Potter’s Wax Museum. Potter’s? What the heck is that? It’s not even Madame Tussauds. I don’t think I could go to a wax museum that’s not Madame Tussauds.

Elaine: Why George, it’s still wax!

George: These smaller places… they don’t know how to choose what cultural figures to have wax figures of. We’ll go inside, look in, and see something really stupid in there. Something like…

The gang enters, and their jaws fly open as they see themselves in wax.

The (very creepy) End.

dave kosciolek