Of course, there's always revising on top of that. But just in terms of nailing the general jokes down, it's such a relief.
(The weird thing is that I use a totally different system of grey font and strikethrough for fiction--but then, my process is different, and involves more "talking to myself" ["So then she goes up the stairs, down the hall--I don't know what she sees, maybe an open door? Get closer to the door..."] when I'm in the idea phase. This doesn't really work for comedy.)
Report from the home front: Sam is on his back, asleep in my bed, his little white leg fur waving in the breeze from the ceiling fan. My parents are watching Flight of the Phoenix downstairs, the bass rumbling beneath my feet. I have made Sister Girl promise to go see Sin City with me on opening weekend. Meanwhile, she has a large chunk of weight she wants to lose before her boyfriend comes home from overseas (army), and so she's nursing a vanilla ("vanilla") whey protein shake while watching Iron Chef. Tonight's secret ingredient? Cheese. Woe.
I think I'm going to go take two Advil and a bath.