Short script #2: A bump on the head

Sal, aged 31, lives in a dark apartment. Close up to a clock showing 4 o'clock, with faint wisps of daylight shining through the window. Sal is balding and presumably smelly. Near his snoring body, is an alarmclock faced down onto his nightstand as well as a jug of Vladimir vodka.

Voice: Wake up Sal, wake up...
Sal: (sleepily) Ma?
Voice: Wake up, Sal
Sal: Ma, leave me alone, give me one more hour.
Voice: Wake up, wake up, wake up... (transforms into the beep-beep of the alarm clock)
Sal: (roused) grog, alright, alright, bastard.

Sal reaches over, slaps the alarm to a crashing halt, grabs the bottle of vodka.

Sal: Good morning Vladimir.

Sal take a large swig of vodka.

Sal: (grimacing) ahhh, yeah.
A Russian Voice (Vladimir): You love my juice, don't you, bitch.
Sal: (confused) huh? who's that?
Vladimir: It is me, maggot, I am your czar!
Sal: Shut up, this is prank right?
Vladimir: Do you not hear me? Hold the bottle to your ear.

Sal hold the bottle to his ear. A loud voice pierces and simultaneously the bottle bashes the side of Sal's head).

Vladimir: Do you hear me now???
Sal: I'm really messed up, aren't I?
Vladimir: No, you aren't drunk, rather you are poisoned.
Sal: What? Poisoned?
Vladimir: Yes. During bottling, my vodka was contaminated with a special cleaner for a part of machinery that mixes the potatoes...the cleaner has mercury.
Sal: So what...I'm going to be able to tell your temperature?
Vladimir: No, it means you have drank so much of me, not only have you made like sauerkraut of your liver, but your brain is riddled with mercury. You've gone crazy!
Sal: Huh.
Vladimir: Don't believe me, get a second opinion.

Alarm Clock fallen to the ground: You're fucked Sal.
Pillow: Yep, you've gone Tom Cruise, son.
Blanket: (elephant roar)

Sal: So, what happens now?
Vladimir: What do you think? Go out and preach, Sal. Let people know about all those crazy thoughts, crazy dreams that Vladimir and mercury will rock out of your inner soul.
Sal: Yeah, that's what I'll do. I'll tell the world.
Vladimir: Before you go, I am going to give you a new name, for your new life.
Sal: Alright.
Vladimir: You will be L. Ron Hubbard.
Sal/Hubbard: Thank you Vladimir.
Blanket: Good. Now stick your dick in my Downy-soft folds, big boy.
Vladimir: NOOOO, blanket is Xenu!

Cut to black screen with words in white: Don't have sex with your bedsheets, because that makes Xenu happy.
A message from the Church of Scientology: "No just for crazy people, but for rich crazy people."