(Fade out. Fade in on Dr. Man-Witch and the kids doing various chores. Sally is folding Dracula’s laundry, Dr. Man-Witch is spit-polishing his shot glasses, and Timmy is filing his taxes. Frankenstein’s Monster supervises.)
SALLY: This stinks, Dr. Man-Witch.
DR. MAN-WITCH: I admit, it’s not a walk in the cake, but if you just grin and bear it for now, I’ll have us out of here in no time.
TIMMY: Boy, this 1040 EZ form is 1040 Hard.
DR. MAN-WITCH: You’re not helping, Timmy.
MONSTER: Growl! Less talk, more work!
(Dracula enters, chuckling and drinking coffee.)
DRACULA: How are my little slaves… slaving?
SALLY: You let us go, you evil space vampire!
DR. MAN-WITCH: You’ll never get away with this. We’ll revolt! We’ll strike! And then none of your precious chores will be done.
TIMMY: Do you claim the creature as a dependent, or is he technically no longer a minor?
DR. MAN-WITCH: Timmy, we’re taking a stand here! Besides, he’s clearly over twenty-one.
DRACULA: Ah, but you forget, it is I who have the power. You are stuck here as long as my force field is up. Once it’s down, you can come and go as you please. But the idea of you gaining access to my supercomputer and shutting down the power is so ridiculous, I scoff at the mere mention of it. Scoff! Now, the creature and I have a double date with… destiny. And her roommate.
(Dracula and Frankenstein’s Monster exit, arm in arm.)
SALLY: We’re doomed!
DR. MAN-WITCH: Never say die, Sally. Except as the singular of dice.
TIMMY: But she’s right. We’re gonna be trapped on Neptune forever!
DR. MAN-WITCH: You’d think so. But you’d be wrong! Because I have a plan.
SALLY: I do, too! And it’s a song! Wanna hear it?
DR. MAN-WITCH: Tell you what- I’ll take a rain check. Now, here’s the plan.
(The three huddle together and whisper watermelon to each other. Fade out. Fade in on Dracula and Frankenstein’s Monster returning from their double date.)
DRACULA: Who knew destiny would be so… clingy?
MONSTER: Growl! Her roommate had a unibrow.
DRACULA: As they say, all’s fair in love and… stuff. Good night.
(They leave. Dr. Man-Witch and the kids sneak into the room. They all have mustaches.)
DR. MAN-WITCH: We must be very quiet, and very fast.
(They sneak over to the desk where the supercomputer is located. Dr. Man-Witch pulls the chair out, and it squeaks. The others flinch. He sits down, and it creaks. Again with the flinching. He turns on the computer, which loudly proclaims that Dracula has mail. The others try to muffle the sound.)
DR. MAN-WITCH: Now, where are the force field controls? Would they be under Applications? My Documents? Oh, they’re right here on the desk top. Christ on a croissant! It’s password-protected. Wouldn’t you know it? So close, yet so far. Could this situation be sautéed in a wronger sauce?
TIMMY: Maybe he keeps his password nearby.
DR. MAN-WITCH: Dracula? The Dark Lord? Superintendent of the Undead? You think he would keep his password right next to his supercomputer?
SALLY: Is this it?
DR. MAN-WITCH: Let me see.
(Sally hands him a piece of paper sitting next to the computer. Dr. Man-Witch types the code on the paper into the computer. The computer proclaims he now has access to the force field controls.)
DR. MAN-WITCH: Dracul. I misoverestimated you. Now, just hit the down arrow key here. Oh, wait. Need to hold down F12 at the same time. And… there. The force fields are down. Now, there’s nothing keeping us here.
DRACULA: Or… is there?
DR. MAN-WITCH: No.
(Dr. Man-Witch puts his arms around the kids. He disappears. Timmy disappears. Sally stands, waiting to disappear. Dr. Man-Witch reappears, puts his arm around her and they both disappear.)
DRACULA: I can’t believe they outsmarted me!
MONSTER: Growl! You should really be more protective of your passwords.
DRACULA: Thank you, Captain Obvious.
(Cut to the living room. Dr. Man-Witch and the kids appear, seated on the couch.)
TIMMY: That was close!
DR. MAN-WITCH
Sure was. Lucky for us, Dracula was too proud to hide his password. And none of it would have been possible without the crack detective work of little Cindy here.
SALLY: Sally.
DR. MAN-WITCH: That’s nice, dear. Great work like that shouldn’t go unrewarded. And that’s why I think you should grace us with a song.
SALLY: Really? You mean it, Dr. Man-Witch?
DR. MAN-WITCH: Better start squawking before I change my mind.
SALLY: Okay!
(Cheesy synth music begins. This sequence is shot with soft focus and lots of fades and edits. Dr. Man-Witch is playing the keyboard, and Timmy is playing the tambourine. They all sway as they sing.)
SALLY: Jesus loves America more than any other country in the USA,
TIMMY: And with its overflowing awesomeness it’s so easy to see why He feels that way.
TIMMY & SALLY: From mountain high to river wet, our nation takes the white rosette!
ALL: America the beauteous, no one can dare disputeous. America the beauteous, all arguments are mooteous.
DR. MAN-WITCH: From the monuments to the shopping malls,
SALLY: Beauty fills you up from your earholes to your eyebahahahahahahahalls!
ALL: America the beauteous, our own horns are the tootiest. America the Beauteous, our minds are the astutiest. America the beauteous, looking snazzy in our pantsuiteous. America the Beauteous, hear us singing your tributeous. For America is everything and everything is love.
(The three of them end the song in a cheesy pose. Fade out. Fade in, Dr. Man-Witch is preparing to leave.)
DR. MAN-WITCH: Well, kids, I hoped you both learned an important lesson today.
TIMMY & SALLY: We sure did!
TIMMY: I learned that Abraham Lincoln has mad skillz!
SALLY: And I learned Dracula lives on Neptune and goes on double dates with Frankenstein’s Monster!
DR. MAN-WITCH: And we all learned that the U.S. States of America is and are the greatest states of the Union. Which is the most important lesson of all time. But now, I’m afraid it’s time to go.
TIMMY & SALLY: No, no, please don’t go, etc. ad-libbing!!!
DR. MAN-WITCH: Sorry, kids, but there are others out there who need me. Your tired, your poor, your masses all huddled together in a big blob of people. Never forget, when you need me, you can find me. Here. (Points to Sally’s heart.) Here. (Points to Timmy’s head.) Or here. (Points off-screen, cut to the exterior of an apartment complex.) And all you have to do is say the magic words. Higgledy.
TIMMY & SALLY: Higgledy!
DR. MAN-WITCH: Piggledy!
TIMMY & SALLY: Piggledy!
DR. MAN-WITCH: Ted and Alice.
TIMMY & SALLY: Ted and Alice!
DR. MAN-WITCH: Bring all the fun and leave all the malice! Bye kids!
(He disappears.)
TIMMY & SALLY: Bye! Bye!
(End credits play over montage of stills, America the Beauteous song. After credits, cut to Timmy & Sally sitting on the couch. Dr. Man-Witch reappears.)
DR. MAN-WITCH: Have you kids seen my keys? No? There's a little froggy keychain... Okay. Thanks anyway. Where did I put those-
(He disappears again.)
-fin-
Friday, January 30, 2009
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
DR. MAN-WITCH IN: AMERICA THE BEAUTEOUS- PART 2
DR. MAN-WITCH: Wasn't that fun, kids?
TIMMY: I admit, rap music is dope, but isn't this just another example of parents fighting? Why does there have to be so much war? Who can stop it? When can we have peace? How many roads must a man walk down before-
DR. MAN-WITCH: Hang on, Timmy, hang on there. You’re a very inquisitive boy! You’ll have to work on that. Now, war is only part of the many facets which make this a great nation. There's also innovation. Invention. Why, the United States has invented some of the greatest machines known to man. The Ferris wheel. The horseless carriage. The carriageless horse! The two dollar bill. Magazine subscriptions. The backwards baseball cap. But perhaps the greatest American invention is one of the first: the cotton gin. First assembled by Eli Whitney in 1792 in a fit of rage after an unsuccessful make out session, the cotton gin combines two of America's favorite elements, cotton and gin. It's poetic in its simplicity. So simple, you can make one from items found around the home. What do you say, Timmy?
TIMMY: I like inventing!
DR. MAN-WITCH: Oh, you silly lad. The cotton gin has already been invented. You can't invent it again. That's copyright fraud. And trust me, you don't want the patent office on you. They're vicious. Now! Who has cotton?
(Awkward star-swipe. Dr. Man-Witch and the kids are wearing protective goggles and are in the kitchen. As Dr. Man-Witch lists of ingredients, he holds them up, and as he describes the process, he does what he describes.)
DR. MAN-WITCH: Making your own cotton gin is a fun way to pass the time on a rainy day. Or a weekend at Grandma’s! All you need is a little bit of cotton, and a whole lotta gin. You also need: a large bowl or bucket; a whisk; a slotted spoon; a fake ID; eighty-seven cents in nickels, dimes and pennies; a Danielle Steele novel; and an unopened container of honey-roasted peanuts. I prefer Planters, but any brand will do. Oh! And don’t forget to wear either safety goggles or a hairnet.
SALLY: Why do you need those, Dr. Man-Witch?
DR. MAN-WITCH: Authenticity. You see, historians believe Eli Whitney wore either safety goggles or a hairnet when first inventing the cotton gin. Some say he wore both! This is most likely why his make out session was unsuccessful. Now, the first thing you do is take your cotton, in this case Timmy has graciously offered up one of his cotton t-shirts.
TIMMY: It’s a cotton-poly blend, actually.
DR. MAN-WITCH: Doesn’t really matter. Next, you whisk the cotton, until it’s wrinkled and porous. Next, you take the gin, and this is where the fake ID and the eighty-seven cents come in. Make sure to buy the cheapest gin you can find, this should cost exactly eighty-seven cents. You pour the gin through the slotted spoon, and stir. Do this for about three minutes. Whisk again, and let sit for twenty-seven minutes. This is where the Danielle Steele novel and honey-roasted peanuts come in. A Danielle Steele novel takes exactly twenty-seven minutes to read, and eating the honey-roasted peanuts will make you feel like you’re on an airplane! Fun!
(Dr. Man-Witch eats a peanut and opens his book. Another awkward star-swipe.)
DR. MAN-WITCH: Okay. It’s been exactly twenty-seven minutes. I know because I finished my Danielle Steele novel.
TIMMY: Me, too!
DR. MAN-WITCH: Isn’t science fun? Well, let’s take a look at our cotton gin.
(Dr. Man-Witch pulls from the bucket what appears to be a miniature cotton gin.)
TIMMY: Cool!
SALLY: It’s so cute!
DR. MAN-WITCH: It’s both cool and cute. And it's so easy!
TIMMY: And fun!
SALLY: (To her cotton gin.)I love you!
DR. MAN-WITCH: And it's fully functional. But you don't have to take my word for it.
(Pause.)
DR. MAN-WITCH: But, take my word for it, anyway.
(Awkward smiles and an awkward star swipe take us out of that scene’s and back into the living room.)
SALLY: Gosh, that was fun, Dr. Man-Witch!
DR. MAN-WITCH: And educational. I like to call it edufun…tional. I’m still working on that. What do you kids want to learn about next?
TIMMY: Cowboys!
SALLY: Singing!
TIMMY: Firemen!
SALLY: V. C. Andrews!
TIMMY: Reggie Jackson!
SALLY: Exclamation!
DR. MAN-WITCH: Kids, kids, kids! We can learn about all of these things. Except for V.C. Andrews, she’s a registered trademark. And I know nothing about firemen. But that’s beside the point. We’re not thinking big enough here, and what I have in mind is big indeed. How would you kids like to take a trip into outer space?
TIMMY & SALLY: Yay!
DR. MAN-WITCH: That’s what I thought.
SALLY: But what does outer space have to do with America, Dr. Man-Witch?
DR. MAN-WITCH: What does outer space have to do with America? The flag on the moon. How did it get there? America. The Mars photos. Where were they developed? America. Pluto. Who had a dog named Pluto? Mickey Mouse. And what’s more American than Mickey Mouse? Seriously, Sally, why do you question me? I’m a doctor and a Man-Witch, what more do you want? Now, I can take you two to Neptune, but first you’ll have to say the magic words with me. Ready? Presto!
TIMMY & SALLY: Presto!
DR. MAN-WITCH: Change-o!
TIMMY & SALLY: Change-o!
DR. MAN-WITCH: Ei ei poo!
TIMMY & SALLY: Ei ei poo!
DR. MAN-WITCH: Take us to Neptune, lickety-sploo!
TIMMY & SALLY: Take us to Neptune, lickety-sploo!
(Dr. Man-Witch disappears. Timmy disappears. Sally looks around, looks off-screen, appears to receive direction, walks off-screen quickly. Cut to Neptune, where the three are all standing together. Neptune looks a lot like someone’s basement with black construction paper and those glow in the dark stars on the wall.)
DR. MAN-WITCH: Here it is, kids. Neptune. The eighth planet in our solar system, fourth largest planet by diameter, and third largest by mass, primary exports are helium, hydrogen and methane, capital city Montpelier, it’s named after soul sensation Solomon Burke. And the atmosphere supposedly has a slight banana aftertaste, but I’ve never noticed it. Now if you look off to the left and squint just a bit, you can see a pattern in the stars that looks like a smallmouth bass in a Members Only jacket driving a Ford Festiva. That’s the constellation Laurence Tureaud.
(From someplace, a loud moaning.)
TIMMY: What was that?
DR. MAN-WITCH: Nothing to worry about, Timmy. It’s just the planet settling.
(The moaning continues.)
SALLY: I’m scared, Dr. Man-Witch!
DR. MAN-WITCH: No need to be scared, Sally. There’s no life on Neptune. In fact, that’s why astronauts have yet to colonize it, because it’s boring. Now, if you’ll follow me, I’ll show you how the other side of the planet looks exactly like this one.
(They start to walk away, but are stopped when Frankenstein’s monster appears.)
MONSTER: Growl!
(The kids scream. Dracula appears, chuckling.)
DRACULA: Down, creature! You’ll frighten our… guests.
DR. MAN-WITCH: Incredible. Here we’ve thought all these years that Neptune was uninhabititatified.
DRACULA: Ah, but you were wrong. For you see, I… live here.
SALLY: Are you gonna hurt us, Mister?
DRACULA: I never hurt… guests. My name is… Dracul.
DR. MAN-WITCH: Ragu?
DRACULA: Dracul.
DR. MAN-WITCH: Drock Ewell?
DRACULA: Dracula, okay?
TIMMY: Dracula’s not real, it’s just a stupid story, and an Academy award-winning movie.
DRACULA: Ah, but I am very real. And this is my… creature.
MONSTER: Growl!
DR. MAN-WITCH: Ragu?
MONSTER: GROWL!!!
DRACULA: Back, monster! I apologize for my creature, he is not used to… company.
SALLY: I’m scared, Dr. Man-Witch!
DR. MAN-WITCH: Don’t worry, Sally. This Ragu fellow seems harmless.
DRACULA: Oh, I’m not harmless. I can be quite dangerous. I shot a man in Reno, just to watch him… get shot. But I have a strict no-shooting policy for my guests! No, my guests are simply… made into my slaves.
TIMMY: Slaves? But Abraham Lincoln abolished slavery all by his bad self!
DRACULA: On your planet, maybe. Here on Neptune, we follow our… own rules.
DR. MAN-WITCH: Absoludicrous! We don’t have to put with this! Come on, kids, let’s blow this gas giant.
MONSTER: GROWL!!!
DRACULA: I think you’ll find any attempt to escape quite… fruitless.
DR. MAN-WITCH: Him? We can take him. Go on, Timmy, take him.
DRACULA: Ah, but can you escape my… force field?
DR. MAN-WITCH: You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?
DRACULA: I’m afraid so, Doctor. The force field is… perfect. Aside from a slight banana aftertaste.
SALLY: I’m scared, Dr. Man-Witch!
TIMMY: Me, too!
MONSTER: Growl!
DR. MAN-WITCH: Don’t worry, kids. I’ll think of something.
TIMMY: I admit, rap music is dope, but isn't this just another example of parents fighting? Why does there have to be so much war? Who can stop it? When can we have peace? How many roads must a man walk down before-
DR. MAN-WITCH: Hang on, Timmy, hang on there. You’re a very inquisitive boy! You’ll have to work on that. Now, war is only part of the many facets which make this a great nation. There's also innovation. Invention. Why, the United States has invented some of the greatest machines known to man. The Ferris wheel. The horseless carriage. The carriageless horse! The two dollar bill. Magazine subscriptions. The backwards baseball cap. But perhaps the greatest American invention is one of the first: the cotton gin. First assembled by Eli Whitney in 1792 in a fit of rage after an unsuccessful make out session, the cotton gin combines two of America's favorite elements, cotton and gin. It's poetic in its simplicity. So simple, you can make one from items found around the home. What do you say, Timmy?
TIMMY: I like inventing!
DR. MAN-WITCH: Oh, you silly lad. The cotton gin has already been invented. You can't invent it again. That's copyright fraud. And trust me, you don't want the patent office on you. They're vicious. Now! Who has cotton?
(Awkward star-swipe. Dr. Man-Witch and the kids are wearing protective goggles and are in the kitchen. As Dr. Man-Witch lists of ingredients, he holds them up, and as he describes the process, he does what he describes.)
DR. MAN-WITCH: Making your own cotton gin is a fun way to pass the time on a rainy day. Or a weekend at Grandma’s! All you need is a little bit of cotton, and a whole lotta gin. You also need: a large bowl or bucket; a whisk; a slotted spoon; a fake ID; eighty-seven cents in nickels, dimes and pennies; a Danielle Steele novel; and an unopened container of honey-roasted peanuts. I prefer Planters, but any brand will do. Oh! And don’t forget to wear either safety goggles or a hairnet.
SALLY: Why do you need those, Dr. Man-Witch?
DR. MAN-WITCH: Authenticity. You see, historians believe Eli Whitney wore either safety goggles or a hairnet when first inventing the cotton gin. Some say he wore both! This is most likely why his make out session was unsuccessful. Now, the first thing you do is take your cotton, in this case Timmy has graciously offered up one of his cotton t-shirts.
TIMMY: It’s a cotton-poly blend, actually.
DR. MAN-WITCH: Doesn’t really matter. Next, you whisk the cotton, until it’s wrinkled and porous. Next, you take the gin, and this is where the fake ID and the eighty-seven cents come in. Make sure to buy the cheapest gin you can find, this should cost exactly eighty-seven cents. You pour the gin through the slotted spoon, and stir. Do this for about three minutes. Whisk again, and let sit for twenty-seven minutes. This is where the Danielle Steele novel and honey-roasted peanuts come in. A Danielle Steele novel takes exactly twenty-seven minutes to read, and eating the honey-roasted peanuts will make you feel like you’re on an airplane! Fun!
(Dr. Man-Witch eats a peanut and opens his book. Another awkward star-swipe.)
DR. MAN-WITCH: Okay. It’s been exactly twenty-seven minutes. I know because I finished my Danielle Steele novel.
TIMMY: Me, too!
DR. MAN-WITCH: Isn’t science fun? Well, let’s take a look at our cotton gin.
(Dr. Man-Witch pulls from the bucket what appears to be a miniature cotton gin.)
TIMMY: Cool!
SALLY: It’s so cute!
DR. MAN-WITCH: It’s both cool and cute. And it's so easy!
TIMMY: And fun!
SALLY: (To her cotton gin.)I love you!
DR. MAN-WITCH: And it's fully functional. But you don't have to take my word for it.
(Pause.)
DR. MAN-WITCH: But, take my word for it, anyway.
(Awkward smiles and an awkward star swipe take us out of that scene’s and back into the living room.)
SALLY: Gosh, that was fun, Dr. Man-Witch!
DR. MAN-WITCH: And educational. I like to call it edufun…tional. I’m still working on that. What do you kids want to learn about next?
TIMMY: Cowboys!
SALLY: Singing!
TIMMY: Firemen!
SALLY: V. C. Andrews!
TIMMY: Reggie Jackson!
SALLY: Exclamation!
DR. MAN-WITCH: Kids, kids, kids! We can learn about all of these things. Except for V.C. Andrews, she’s a registered trademark. And I know nothing about firemen. But that’s beside the point. We’re not thinking big enough here, and what I have in mind is big indeed. How would you kids like to take a trip into outer space?
TIMMY & SALLY: Yay!
DR. MAN-WITCH: That’s what I thought.
SALLY: But what does outer space have to do with America, Dr. Man-Witch?
DR. MAN-WITCH: What does outer space have to do with America? The flag on the moon. How did it get there? America. The Mars photos. Where were they developed? America. Pluto. Who had a dog named Pluto? Mickey Mouse. And what’s more American than Mickey Mouse? Seriously, Sally, why do you question me? I’m a doctor and a Man-Witch, what more do you want? Now, I can take you two to Neptune, but first you’ll have to say the magic words with me. Ready? Presto!
TIMMY & SALLY: Presto!
DR. MAN-WITCH: Change-o!
TIMMY & SALLY: Change-o!
DR. MAN-WITCH: Ei ei poo!
TIMMY & SALLY: Ei ei poo!
DR. MAN-WITCH: Take us to Neptune, lickety-sploo!
TIMMY & SALLY: Take us to Neptune, lickety-sploo!
(Dr. Man-Witch disappears. Timmy disappears. Sally looks around, looks off-screen, appears to receive direction, walks off-screen quickly. Cut to Neptune, where the three are all standing together. Neptune looks a lot like someone’s basement with black construction paper and those glow in the dark stars on the wall.)
DR. MAN-WITCH: Here it is, kids. Neptune. The eighth planet in our solar system, fourth largest planet by diameter, and third largest by mass, primary exports are helium, hydrogen and methane, capital city Montpelier, it’s named after soul sensation Solomon Burke. And the atmosphere supposedly has a slight banana aftertaste, but I’ve never noticed it. Now if you look off to the left and squint just a bit, you can see a pattern in the stars that looks like a smallmouth bass in a Members Only jacket driving a Ford Festiva. That’s the constellation Laurence Tureaud.
(From someplace, a loud moaning.)
TIMMY: What was that?
DR. MAN-WITCH: Nothing to worry about, Timmy. It’s just the planet settling.
(The moaning continues.)
SALLY: I’m scared, Dr. Man-Witch!
DR. MAN-WITCH: No need to be scared, Sally. There’s no life on Neptune. In fact, that’s why astronauts have yet to colonize it, because it’s boring. Now, if you’ll follow me, I’ll show you how the other side of the planet looks exactly like this one.
(They start to walk away, but are stopped when Frankenstein’s monster appears.)
MONSTER: Growl!
(The kids scream. Dracula appears, chuckling.)
DRACULA: Down, creature! You’ll frighten our… guests.
DR. MAN-WITCH: Incredible. Here we’ve thought all these years that Neptune was uninhabititatified.
DRACULA: Ah, but you were wrong. For you see, I… live here.
SALLY: Are you gonna hurt us, Mister?
DRACULA: I never hurt… guests. My name is… Dracul.
DR. MAN-WITCH: Ragu?
DRACULA: Dracul.
DR. MAN-WITCH: Drock Ewell?
DRACULA: Dracula, okay?
TIMMY: Dracula’s not real, it’s just a stupid story, and an Academy award-winning movie.
DRACULA: Ah, but I am very real. And this is my… creature.
MONSTER: Growl!
DR. MAN-WITCH: Ragu?
MONSTER: GROWL!!!
DRACULA: Back, monster! I apologize for my creature, he is not used to… company.
SALLY: I’m scared, Dr. Man-Witch!
DR. MAN-WITCH: Don’t worry, Sally. This Ragu fellow seems harmless.
DRACULA: Oh, I’m not harmless. I can be quite dangerous. I shot a man in Reno, just to watch him… get shot. But I have a strict no-shooting policy for my guests! No, my guests are simply… made into my slaves.
TIMMY: Slaves? But Abraham Lincoln abolished slavery all by his bad self!
DRACULA: On your planet, maybe. Here on Neptune, we follow our… own rules.
DR. MAN-WITCH: Absoludicrous! We don’t have to put with this! Come on, kids, let’s blow this gas giant.
MONSTER: GROWL!!!
DRACULA: I think you’ll find any attempt to escape quite… fruitless.
DR. MAN-WITCH: Him? We can take him. Go on, Timmy, take him.
DRACULA: Ah, but can you escape my… force field?
DR. MAN-WITCH: You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you?
DRACULA: I’m afraid so, Doctor. The force field is… perfect. Aside from a slight banana aftertaste.
SALLY: I’m scared, Dr. Man-Witch!
TIMMY: Me, too!
MONSTER: Growl!
DR. MAN-WITCH: Don’t worry, kids. I’ll think of something.
Monday, January 26, 2009
DR. MAN-WITCH IN: AMERICA THE BEAUTUEOUS- PART 1
(We open on TV news. War. Conflict. Hate. And lots and lots and lots and lots of arguing adults. Pull out, Timmy and Sally are sitting on their couch, watching this. Timmy shuts off the TV, stands in front of it, hands on hips. He is an unhappy camper.)
TIMMY: For the love of Benji, these US leaders sure do yell a lot. It's enough to drive a boy and girl, ages ten and seven respectively, positively batty.
SALLY: I know what you mean, brother. Perhaps there is a way to bring the world together. A way to make everyone smile. What if I sang a song about happiness?
TIMMY: Oh, younger sister Sally, you sure are ignorant in the ways of the world. Songs don't bring people together. That's silly girl talk.
SALLY: I know you're right, Timmy. But then, what can we do? How can we make a difference? Recycling? Unicycling? Unicorning? Corn rowing? Or should we just stay here and avoid talking to strangers?
TIMMY: No, none of those could end all the conflict. I’m afraid there's really only one solution. Move to Canada.
SALLY: Canada? But I hear its cold up there, and the people speak French, and the sales tax is higher.
TIMMY: But there's no war and no fighting. And the music is better.
SALLY: Are you sure, Timmy?
VOICE: Now, just hold your horses there, Timmy and Sally. Don't turn your back on your country quite yet. Not if I have anything to say about it!
TIMMY & SALLY: Who are you?
(Dr. Man-Witch appears between them, through the magic of stopping the camera and restarting.)
DR. MAN-WITCH: I'm Dr. Man-Witch.
SALLY: Dr. What-Witch?
DR. MAN-WITCH: No, Sally, Dr. Man-Witch.
SALLY: What’s a Man-Witch?
DR. MAN-WITCH: It’s like a wizard. It is a wizard, in fact, just a sillier term for it.
SALLY: Why don’t you call yourself Dr. Wizard, Dr. Man-Witch?
DR. MAN-WITCH: I was called that until recently, but it turns out there’s a different Dr. Wizard, and we certainly don’t want that Dr. Wizard to read this and run into any legal issues, do we Sally?
SALLY: What makes you think anybody’s reading this?
DR. MAN-WITCH: Fuck you, Sally.
TIMMY: Where did you come from?
DR. MAN-WITCH: Well, I was born in Detroit, but my family moved around a lot, so-
TIMMY: No, I mean just then? How did you appear like that?
DR. MAN-WITCH: Magic, my boy! Haven't you been listening? Because I have. And I don't like what I've been hearing. Canada, Timmy? Have you eaten their food?
TIMMY: Anyplace is better than here, is all I'm saying.
DR. MAN-WITCH: Whoa! That's a big talk for such a preteen boy. You're all set to give up your freedom, a freedom that was fought for so bravely, so longly, so muchly? Sally, what can you tell me about the Revolutionary War?
SALLY: Oh, plenty! In fact, I have song about it. Would you like to hear it, Dr. Man-Witch?
DR. MAN-WITCH: That's so precious. Some other time. Now, what I can tell you about the Revolutionary War is a whole lot. It's an exciting tale, a tale about George Washington, Paul Revere, Benjamin Franklin, Tutankhamen, Charlemagne, and Sherlock Holmes, and how they fought for our freedom. Yours, Sally, and yours, Timmy.
SALLY: Mine, too, Dr. Man-Witch?
DR. MAN-WITCH: That’s right, young Sally! But why tell you, when I can show you?
(Dr. Man-Witch puts his arms around the kids, pause. Nothing happens. Dr. Man-Witch looks up, confused, then smiles and nods, looks into camera. They disappear. What follows is the Revolutionary War story, narrated by Dr. Man-Witch, and told through cartoons, paintings and some photos.)
DR. MAN-WITCH: The Revolutionary War! Never before had a war been so... revolutionary. General George "G-Bill" Washington led his troops to victory against the villainous King George. KING GEORGE: (In a Cobra Commander voice.) Ha ha ha! You Americans will never get me, I'm all the way in England. In an impenetrable castle. None may challenge me. This I command! WASHINGTON: Oh, yeah? We'll see about that, King Jerk! Come on, fellas!
PATRICK HENRY: Give me liberty or give me death. I'm not afraid of death. But my first choice is still liberty.
PAUL REVERE: Somebody's coming! They're wearing red coats. And they spell color with a u. It's the British.
BEN FRANKLIN: No one will come between me and my dreams! I see bifocals! Electricity! A dollar store with my name on it!
KING GEORGE: That's what you think, Benjamin Franklin! Prepare for eternity! WASHINGTON: Come on, men! The price of liberty is eternal vigilance. And vice versa. If we want our freedom we'll have to give them all we've got. Tippecanoe and Tyler, too! Not just one or the other. Both! Now who's with me?
DR. MAN-WITCH: And they fought! With guns! And cannons! And horses! And Indians! And break-dancers! And throwing stars! And puggles! And flying cars! And handbags! And the all-mighty atom bomb!
(Stock footage of explosion, mushroom cloud.)
WASHINGTON: Hey, stinky! Try this on for size! Impenetrable, eh? He hadn't reckoned with the power of our bomb. Thank you, Einstein.
EINSTEIN: Sprechen zie welcome!
PATRICK HENRY: I don't think those British will be bothering this continent for a long time. PAUL REVERE: And if they do, we'll be ready for them.
HORSE: Whinny!
BEN FRANKLIN: You said it, Thunder.
(Everyone laughs like the end of Thundercats. And back to the living room with Dr. Man-Witch and the kids.)
DR. MAN-WITCH: And that's how the United States blew up England.
TIMMY: But don't you see, Dr. Man-Witch? War is bad. It's the whole reason people keep yelling at each other. And shooting. And pushing and stuff. War stinks.
DR. MAN-WITCH: War stinks?!? Excuse me, lad of ten? Need I remind you that without war we wouldn't be here? War is what makes us who we are- individuals. War brings us together as a nation, and divides us by our party lines. You like parties, don't you Sally?
SALLY: I like singing, Dr. Man-Witch!
DR. MAN-WITCH: Jesus, talk about a one-track mind. I guess what I'm trying to say, kids, is that for all the death and destruction, once the dust settles everything is fixed. Take the Civil War for example. Second only to the Revolutionary War in the annals of my opinions on war. And it was all thanks to America's coolest President- Abraham Lincoln. Would you like to meet him?
TIMMY & SALLY: Yeah!
DR. MAN-WITCH: Fantastic!
TIMMY: But how can we meet Abraham Lincoln? Hasn't he been dead for 141 years?
DR. MAN-WITCH: Timmy, have you forgotten already that I'm a Man-Witch? Now, say the magic words along with me. Hocus-
TIMMY & SALLY: Hocus!
DR. MAN-WITCH: Pocus-
TIMMY & SALLY: Pocus!
DR. MAN-WITCH: Predicate pie!
TIMMY & SALLY: Predicate pie!
DR. MAN-WITCH: Bring us a tall befacial-haired guy!
TIMMY & SALLY: Bring us a tall befacial-haired guy!
(From their kitchen comes a beat. Abe Lincoln walks out holding a microphone. He begins to rap. This is intercut with Dr. Man-Witch & the kids doing cheesy rap dances.)
ABE: Yeah! Yeah! John Brown's in the house! William Garrison's in the house! Ulysses Grant's in the house! Alex Stephen's in the Senate! Yeah! I'm about to make this reconstruction radical, G! Yo, yo, yo, well my name is Abe Lincoln & I know what you're thinkin', "The 16th Prez" what have I been drinkin’! But I'm here to spread the word about the Civil War, & how a little disagreement led to blood and gore. Now the South they wanted slaves to do their dirty work, but the North thought this unfair and called them racist jerks, so the Union tried secedin’ which I found displeasin’, and all I need to kick some bigoted tail is a reason. I'll bring you mofos down like I's the wrath of God so if you mess with me you're crazier than Mary Todd. The South they were advancin' but the North they were defendin’ and the battle that raged felt like it never endin’. So I grew out my beard and I put on my hat and I left the Me Bedroom, started bustin’ a cap. There was Union to my left, to my right, front and back, they were sayin’, "We don't wanna give no rights to the blacks!" I said if that floats your boat then consider it sinkin’ cuz you crossed the wrong guy when you fucked with Abe Lincoln. Drop it!
(The beat drops and Abe picks it up by beat-boxing. When he finishes, he folds his arms and then, much like Dr. Man-Witch, disappears.)
TIMMY: For the love of Benji, these US leaders sure do yell a lot. It's enough to drive a boy and girl, ages ten and seven respectively, positively batty.
SALLY: I know what you mean, brother. Perhaps there is a way to bring the world together. A way to make everyone smile. What if I sang a song about happiness?
TIMMY: Oh, younger sister Sally, you sure are ignorant in the ways of the world. Songs don't bring people together. That's silly girl talk.
SALLY: I know you're right, Timmy. But then, what can we do? How can we make a difference? Recycling? Unicycling? Unicorning? Corn rowing? Or should we just stay here and avoid talking to strangers?
TIMMY: No, none of those could end all the conflict. I’m afraid there's really only one solution. Move to Canada.
SALLY: Canada? But I hear its cold up there, and the people speak French, and the sales tax is higher.
TIMMY: But there's no war and no fighting. And the music is better.
SALLY: Are you sure, Timmy?
VOICE: Now, just hold your horses there, Timmy and Sally. Don't turn your back on your country quite yet. Not if I have anything to say about it!
TIMMY & SALLY: Who are you?
(Dr. Man-Witch appears between them, through the magic of stopping the camera and restarting.)
DR. MAN-WITCH: I'm Dr. Man-Witch.
SALLY: Dr. What-Witch?
DR. MAN-WITCH: No, Sally, Dr. Man-Witch.
SALLY: What’s a Man-Witch?
DR. MAN-WITCH: It’s like a wizard. It is a wizard, in fact, just a sillier term for it.
SALLY: Why don’t you call yourself Dr. Wizard, Dr. Man-Witch?
DR. MAN-WITCH: I was called that until recently, but it turns out there’s a different Dr. Wizard, and we certainly don’t want that Dr. Wizard to read this and run into any legal issues, do we Sally?
SALLY: What makes you think anybody’s reading this?
DR. MAN-WITCH: Fuck you, Sally.
TIMMY: Where did you come from?
DR. MAN-WITCH: Well, I was born in Detroit, but my family moved around a lot, so-
TIMMY: No, I mean just then? How did you appear like that?
DR. MAN-WITCH: Magic, my boy! Haven't you been listening? Because I have. And I don't like what I've been hearing. Canada, Timmy? Have you eaten their food?
TIMMY: Anyplace is better than here, is all I'm saying.
DR. MAN-WITCH: Whoa! That's a big talk for such a preteen boy. You're all set to give up your freedom, a freedom that was fought for so bravely, so longly, so muchly? Sally, what can you tell me about the Revolutionary War?
SALLY: Oh, plenty! In fact, I have song about it. Would you like to hear it, Dr. Man-Witch?
DR. MAN-WITCH: That's so precious. Some other time. Now, what I can tell you about the Revolutionary War is a whole lot. It's an exciting tale, a tale about George Washington, Paul Revere, Benjamin Franklin, Tutankhamen, Charlemagne, and Sherlock Holmes, and how they fought for our freedom. Yours, Sally, and yours, Timmy.
SALLY: Mine, too, Dr. Man-Witch?
DR. MAN-WITCH: That’s right, young Sally! But why tell you, when I can show you?
(Dr. Man-Witch puts his arms around the kids, pause. Nothing happens. Dr. Man-Witch looks up, confused, then smiles and nods, looks into camera. They disappear. What follows is the Revolutionary War story, narrated by Dr. Man-Witch, and told through cartoons, paintings and some photos.)
DR. MAN-WITCH: The Revolutionary War! Never before had a war been so... revolutionary. General George "G-Bill" Washington led his troops to victory against the villainous King George. KING GEORGE: (In a Cobra Commander voice.) Ha ha ha! You Americans will never get me, I'm all the way in England. In an impenetrable castle. None may challenge me. This I command! WASHINGTON: Oh, yeah? We'll see about that, King Jerk! Come on, fellas!
PATRICK HENRY: Give me liberty or give me death. I'm not afraid of death. But my first choice is still liberty.
PAUL REVERE: Somebody's coming! They're wearing red coats. And they spell color with a u. It's the British.
BEN FRANKLIN: No one will come between me and my dreams! I see bifocals! Electricity! A dollar store with my name on it!
KING GEORGE: That's what you think, Benjamin Franklin! Prepare for eternity! WASHINGTON: Come on, men! The price of liberty is eternal vigilance. And vice versa. If we want our freedom we'll have to give them all we've got. Tippecanoe and Tyler, too! Not just one or the other. Both! Now who's with me?
DR. MAN-WITCH: And they fought! With guns! And cannons! And horses! And Indians! And break-dancers! And throwing stars! And puggles! And flying cars! And handbags! And the all-mighty atom bomb!
(Stock footage of explosion, mushroom cloud.)
WASHINGTON: Hey, stinky! Try this on for size! Impenetrable, eh? He hadn't reckoned with the power of our bomb. Thank you, Einstein.
EINSTEIN: Sprechen zie welcome!
PATRICK HENRY: I don't think those British will be bothering this continent for a long time. PAUL REVERE: And if they do, we'll be ready for them.
HORSE: Whinny!
BEN FRANKLIN: You said it, Thunder.
(Everyone laughs like the end of Thundercats. And back to the living room with Dr. Man-Witch and the kids.)
DR. MAN-WITCH: And that's how the United States blew up England.
TIMMY: But don't you see, Dr. Man-Witch? War is bad. It's the whole reason people keep yelling at each other. And shooting. And pushing and stuff. War stinks.
DR. MAN-WITCH: War stinks?!? Excuse me, lad of ten? Need I remind you that without war we wouldn't be here? War is what makes us who we are- individuals. War brings us together as a nation, and divides us by our party lines. You like parties, don't you Sally?
SALLY: I like singing, Dr. Man-Witch!
DR. MAN-WITCH: Jesus, talk about a one-track mind. I guess what I'm trying to say, kids, is that for all the death and destruction, once the dust settles everything is fixed. Take the Civil War for example. Second only to the Revolutionary War in the annals of my opinions on war. And it was all thanks to America's coolest President- Abraham Lincoln. Would you like to meet him?
TIMMY & SALLY: Yeah!
DR. MAN-WITCH: Fantastic!
TIMMY: But how can we meet Abraham Lincoln? Hasn't he been dead for 141 years?
DR. MAN-WITCH: Timmy, have you forgotten already that I'm a Man-Witch? Now, say the magic words along with me. Hocus-
TIMMY & SALLY: Hocus!
DR. MAN-WITCH: Pocus-
TIMMY & SALLY: Pocus!
DR. MAN-WITCH: Predicate pie!
TIMMY & SALLY: Predicate pie!
DR. MAN-WITCH: Bring us a tall befacial-haired guy!
TIMMY & SALLY: Bring us a tall befacial-haired guy!
(From their kitchen comes a beat. Abe Lincoln walks out holding a microphone. He begins to rap. This is intercut with Dr. Man-Witch & the kids doing cheesy rap dances.)
ABE: Yeah! Yeah! John Brown's in the house! William Garrison's in the house! Ulysses Grant's in the house! Alex Stephen's in the Senate! Yeah! I'm about to make this reconstruction radical, G! Yo, yo, yo, well my name is Abe Lincoln & I know what you're thinkin', "The 16th Prez" what have I been drinkin’! But I'm here to spread the word about the Civil War, & how a little disagreement led to blood and gore. Now the South they wanted slaves to do their dirty work, but the North thought this unfair and called them racist jerks, so the Union tried secedin’ which I found displeasin’, and all I need to kick some bigoted tail is a reason. I'll bring you mofos down like I's the wrath of God so if you mess with me you're crazier than Mary Todd. The South they were advancin' but the North they were defendin’ and the battle that raged felt like it never endin’. So I grew out my beard and I put on my hat and I left the Me Bedroom, started bustin’ a cap. There was Union to my left, to my right, front and back, they were sayin’, "We don't wanna give no rights to the blacks!" I said if that floats your boat then consider it sinkin’ cuz you crossed the wrong guy when you fucked with Abe Lincoln. Drop it!
(The beat drops and Abe picks it up by beat-boxing. When he finishes, he folds his arms and then, much like Dr. Man-Witch, disappears.)
Friday, January 23, 2009
SUPER-MODEL OR PEE-WEE'S PLAYHOUSE CHARACTER?
1. Twiggy
2. Chairry
3. Globey
4. Yvonne
5. Giselle
6. Clocky
7. Renee
8. Naomi
9. Heidi
10. Floory
11. Sissi
12. Jaydy
ANSWERS: Supermodels- 1,5,8,9,11,12
Pee-Wee- 2,3,4,6,7,10
2. Chairry
3. Globey
4. Yvonne
5. Giselle
6. Clocky
7. Renee
8. Naomi
9. Heidi
10. Floory
11. Sissi
12. Jaydy
ANSWERS: Supermodels- 1,5,8,9,11,12
Pee-Wee- 2,3,4,6,7,10
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
IF’N I WUZ BLUE-COLLARED
The big, big bucks (and bigger, biggest jugs) these days are in redneck humor. Larry “The Cable” Guy, Jeff “Fox” Worthy, Ron “Potater Salad” White, Bill “Hillbilly Middle Name” Engvall, they all have made bajillions speaking to the imbecilic man-child in some of us. So, in true Southern hick fashion, I plan on hi-jacking that Confederate money train. I want to be uber-rich and uber-white trash at the same time! And really, all you need in this day and age is a catch-phrase. So, whut I done here is come up with a buncha mine owns, loosely based on the already popular Blue Collar Comedians already in progress. Hope y’all enjoy, ya hear?
-They call me Mr. Mashed-Up Pertaters Head!
-If’n ya like to do the sex with yer cousin, y’alls might be an inbred (or variant.)
-Go Git R!
-Git After R!
-Make R Finish It!
-R/Git = Doneness.
-I gotcher signage right cheer!
-As long as y’aint foreign, yer my kin!
-I’m a drunk hick, ga-hyuck!
-Cow-tippin’! Boy Howdy!
-KFC! NASCAR! Old Style!
-Y’all’re intolerant, yee-haw!
-They call me Mr. Mashed-Up Pertaters Head!
-If’n ya like to do the sex with yer cousin, y’alls might be an inbred (or variant.)
-Go Git R!
-Git After R!
-Make R Finish It!
-R/Git = Doneness.
-I gotcher signage right cheer!
-As long as y’aint foreign, yer my kin!
-I’m a drunk hick, ga-hyuck!
-Cow-tippin’! Boy Howdy!
-KFC! NASCAR! Old Style!
-Y’all’re intolerant, yee-haw!
Monday, January 19, 2009
SWITCHBLADE COMB
Now you can tell right off that I’m no good,
By the bad-ass ensemble I wear.
And though these clothes strike fear (as they should,)
The dangerousest aspect is my hair.
Now you might think it seems quite tame,
These follicles attopin’ my dome.
But you’re not in on my secret fame,
As the proud owner of a switchblade comb.
Switchblade comb, switchblade comb,
You look like you’re a blade.
But switchblade comb, yeah switchblade comb,
It’s the most awesomefying charade.
I used to get teased mercilessly,
Then things went from bad to worsey.
But with my switchblade comb on me,
My teasers show me a bit more mercy.
Because it strikes fear into the hearts of men,
And it causes all the bullies to back way off.
If you cross me, you’ll see what happens then,
I’m gonna make you turn your head and coiff.
Switchblade comb, switchblade comb,
You won’t stab me in the heart.
But switchblade comb, yeah, switchblade comb,
You’ll give my hair a part.
If you’re really radicool then you’ll join in the fun,
You’ll feel such a thrill running it through your hair.
Bring a friend for fun with more than one,
If you can’t find a partner use a wooden chair.
Oh, switchblade comb, switchblade comb,
The world is watching you.
But switchblade comb, yeah, switchblade comb,
What are you gonna do?
And I say switchblade comb, switchblade comb,
You’re like a second had,
But switchblade comb, yeah, switchblade comb,
Not as much as my real second hand.
No, not as much as my real second hand.
By the bad-ass ensemble I wear.
And though these clothes strike fear (as they should,)
The dangerousest aspect is my hair.
Now you might think it seems quite tame,
These follicles attopin’ my dome.
But you’re not in on my secret fame,
As the proud owner of a switchblade comb.
Switchblade comb, switchblade comb,
You look like you’re a blade.
But switchblade comb, yeah switchblade comb,
It’s the most awesomefying charade.
I used to get teased mercilessly,
Then things went from bad to worsey.
But with my switchblade comb on me,
My teasers show me a bit more mercy.
Because it strikes fear into the hearts of men,
And it causes all the bullies to back way off.
If you cross me, you’ll see what happens then,
I’m gonna make you turn your head and coiff.
Switchblade comb, switchblade comb,
You won’t stab me in the heart.
But switchblade comb, yeah, switchblade comb,
You’ll give my hair a part.
If you’re really radicool then you’ll join in the fun,
You’ll feel such a thrill running it through your hair.
Bring a friend for fun with more than one,
If you can’t find a partner use a wooden chair.
Oh, switchblade comb, switchblade comb,
The world is watching you.
But switchblade comb, yeah, switchblade comb,
What are you gonna do?
And I say switchblade comb, switchblade comb,
You’re like a second had,
But switchblade comb, yeah, switchblade comb,
Not as much as my real second hand.
No, not as much as my real second hand.
Friday, January 16, 2009
SACRILISTIOUS
TITLES OF SERMONS ATTEMPTING TO DRAW A YOUNGER CROWD
Mary Magdalene- No Hollaback Girl
Easter Sunday: Jesus & the Divine One-Up
Judas, the first Player Hater
The Great Flood: Extreme Makeover-Civilization Edition
Did Jesus Christ Use The Force?
EVENTS NOT CHRONICLED IN THE NEW TESTAMENT: JESUS AT COLLEGE
1. Makes a pony keg last for the entire Homecoming weekend.
2. Brings roommate back from the dead after he O.D.'s on quaaludes
3. Befriends a hooker, gains a following of frat boys.
4. Dates Mandi Lee
5. Performs ridiculously difficult dive at the swim meet, which ends with him walking on the water.
Mary Magdalene- No Hollaback Girl
Easter Sunday: Jesus & the Divine One-Up
Judas, the first Player Hater
The Great Flood: Extreme Makeover-Civilization Edition
Did Jesus Christ Use The Force?
EVENTS NOT CHRONICLED IN THE NEW TESTAMENT: JESUS AT COLLEGE
1. Makes a pony keg last for the entire Homecoming weekend.
2. Brings roommate back from the dead after he O.D.'s on quaaludes
3. Befriends a hooker, gains a following of frat boys.
4. Dates Mandi Lee
5. Performs ridiculously difficult dive at the swim meet, which ends with him walking on the water.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
UNSUBTLE POLITICAL KNOCK-KNOCK JOKES
Knock Knock!
Who's there?
Dubya.
Dubya who?
George Dubya Bush, the President who stole the election.
Knock Knock!
Who's there?
Bill O'Reilly.
Bill O'Reilly who?
Bill O'Reilly the arrogant asswipe.
Knock Knock!
Who's there?
Donald.
Donald who?
Donald Wildmon, going door to door to impose my religious beliefs on the country.
Knock Knock!
Who's there?
Osama Bin Laden.
Osama Bin Laden who?
Knock Knock!
Who's there?
Osama Bin Laden.
Osama Bin Laden who?
Knock Knock!
Who's there?
Osama Bin Laden.
Osama Bin Laden who?
Knock Knock!
Who's there?
Osama Bin Laden.
Osama Bin Laden who?
Knock Knock!
Who's there?
Osama Bin Laden.
Osama Bin Laden who?
Knock Knock!
Who's there?
Saddam Hussein.
Saddam Hussein who?
Oh, I'm sorry, did I say Saddam Hussein. I meant Osama Bin Laden.
Who's there?
Dubya.
Dubya who?
George Dubya Bush, the President who stole the election.
Knock Knock!
Who's there?
Bill O'Reilly.
Bill O'Reilly who?
Bill O'Reilly the arrogant asswipe.
Knock Knock!
Who's there?
Donald.
Donald who?
Donald Wildmon, going door to door to impose my religious beliefs on the country.
Knock Knock!
Who's there?
Osama Bin Laden.
Osama Bin Laden who?
Knock Knock!
Who's there?
Osama Bin Laden.
Osama Bin Laden who?
Knock Knock!
Who's there?
Osama Bin Laden.
Osama Bin Laden who?
Knock Knock!
Who's there?
Osama Bin Laden.
Osama Bin Laden who?
Knock Knock!
Who's there?
Osama Bin Laden.
Osama Bin Laden who?
Knock Knock!
Who's there?
Saddam Hussein.
Saddam Hussein who?
Oh, I'm sorry, did I say Saddam Hussein. I meant Osama Bin Laden.
Monday, January 12, 2009
KEEPING IT REAL
I may be wonderful, but just like normal folk; I have my share of flaws. I can’t count the number of times I’ve been accused of over-perfection, and I’m normally a terrific counter! So, like you and yours and theirs, I am making a new year’s resolution. And that resolution is, put simply, keeping it real.
Many rumors abound regarding me, most of which began with a kernel of truth, but which, like a field crazy with corn, have grown way out of proportion. Some of these so-called “facts” were never facts to begin with (hence the ironic quotation marks) and were just taken to be true since so many people believed them, no matter how ridiculous. This phenomenon is not uncommon in our culture, and in fact has its roots in some of our favorite stories and films, like The War of the Worlds, The Blair Witch Project, The Jetsons Meet the Flintstones, and The Ten Commandments. I’m flattered by many of the tall tales attributed to me, and admire the gooftards who believe them, but it’s time to set the record straight. So here goes.
First of all, let’s address my strength. Yes, I am a formidable presence, and I have caused many a man to quake in his boots, and many a woman to quake in her flats. However, I have never held a black belt in Kung Fu, Judo, Karate, Sudoku, Turducken or any of the martially artistries. I’ve never killed a man with my stare, or given a trucker cancer of the face with my fists. I did carry a very heavy bureau (with the help of two others) and only complained intermittently of muscle trauma. Also, once, in a burst of adrenaline, I lifted three reference books at once, pausing only for a refreshing iced tea. When my neighbor threatened to tear out my victory garden, as it was encroaching on his lawn, I took no guff from him. I promised to take care of it, but I never did. And still, whenever he brings it up, I swear to have it remedied forthwith, and yet I do not remedy it anywith. The garden and I both remain victorious.
Now a word on sexual prowess. I’ve got it in spades, to be sure, but the ladies should be aware of what has been exaggerated, and what has most definitely not, before they embark upon sexual relations with me. I don’t want to get too salacious here, so I’ll address the fallacies and leave the rest to your sordid and no doubt accurate imaginations. To start, there have been whisperings of a certain technique at which I am an expert, which involves twirling an umbrella, clenching and unclenching my buttocks and a vaguely German accent. This is not a sexual technique; these are brief descriptions of deleted scenes from Robocop. Also, there’s a (mis)quote attributed to me I’d like to clarify. I have never said, “Foreplay is like a rodeo, which explains the strategically-placed barrels.” I would never say that! What I said was foreplay is like a rodeo clown, which makes a lot more sense. I was more specific in my analogy.
Lastly, I wanted to set the record straight on a few miscellanies. Yes, I was on the Yankees, and I did promise a sickly child that I would hit a home run for him, but he died before I went up to bat, so I didn’t bother. My nicknames were the Splendid Sliver and The Almost as Big Unit. I did lie when I said Cary Grant would be perfect to play me in a movie based on my life, the correct answer is in fact Little Richard. It is true I can hold my breath for up to five weeks, but it’s untrue that I have ever demonstrated this; I’ve chosen not to show off. And finally, I am humbled by the countless books that have been erroneously credited to me, under the assumption that I had ghostwritten them. While I’d love to have been able to do such a thing, I’ve found it highly difficult to ghostwrite, because I just cannot get the eyeholes right. Perhaps someday, in fact, it may become next year’s resolution. At any rate, I hope this dispels any rumors you may have heard, and reinforces any beliefs you have about me. Mark Twain once said, “A lie travels halfway around the world before the truth has put on its shoes.” Consider this, then, a truth shoehorn, or a truthhorn. And never forget the immortal words of Thor, who said, “I’m immortal, dammit, stop poking me with that thing.” These words are truly words with which to keep it real.
Many rumors abound regarding me, most of which began with a kernel of truth, but which, like a field crazy with corn, have grown way out of proportion. Some of these so-called “facts” were never facts to begin with (hence the ironic quotation marks) and were just taken to be true since so many people believed them, no matter how ridiculous. This phenomenon is not uncommon in our culture, and in fact has its roots in some of our favorite stories and films, like The War of the Worlds, The Blair Witch Project, The Jetsons Meet the Flintstones, and The Ten Commandments. I’m flattered by many of the tall tales attributed to me, and admire the gooftards who believe them, but it’s time to set the record straight. So here goes.
First of all, let’s address my strength. Yes, I am a formidable presence, and I have caused many a man to quake in his boots, and many a woman to quake in her flats. However, I have never held a black belt in Kung Fu, Judo, Karate, Sudoku, Turducken or any of the martially artistries. I’ve never killed a man with my stare, or given a trucker cancer of the face with my fists. I did carry a very heavy bureau (with the help of two others) and only complained intermittently of muscle trauma. Also, once, in a burst of adrenaline, I lifted three reference books at once, pausing only for a refreshing iced tea. When my neighbor threatened to tear out my victory garden, as it was encroaching on his lawn, I took no guff from him. I promised to take care of it, but I never did. And still, whenever he brings it up, I swear to have it remedied forthwith, and yet I do not remedy it anywith. The garden and I both remain victorious.
Now a word on sexual prowess. I’ve got it in spades, to be sure, but the ladies should be aware of what has been exaggerated, and what has most definitely not, before they embark upon sexual relations with me. I don’t want to get too salacious here, so I’ll address the fallacies and leave the rest to your sordid and no doubt accurate imaginations. To start, there have been whisperings of a certain technique at which I am an expert, which involves twirling an umbrella, clenching and unclenching my buttocks and a vaguely German accent. This is not a sexual technique; these are brief descriptions of deleted scenes from Robocop. Also, there’s a (mis)quote attributed to me I’d like to clarify. I have never said, “Foreplay is like a rodeo, which explains the strategically-placed barrels.” I would never say that! What I said was foreplay is like a rodeo clown, which makes a lot more sense. I was more specific in my analogy.
Lastly, I wanted to set the record straight on a few miscellanies. Yes, I was on the Yankees, and I did promise a sickly child that I would hit a home run for him, but he died before I went up to bat, so I didn’t bother. My nicknames were the Splendid Sliver and The Almost as Big Unit. I did lie when I said Cary Grant would be perfect to play me in a movie based on my life, the correct answer is in fact Little Richard. It is true I can hold my breath for up to five weeks, but it’s untrue that I have ever demonstrated this; I’ve chosen not to show off. And finally, I am humbled by the countless books that have been erroneously credited to me, under the assumption that I had ghostwritten them. While I’d love to have been able to do such a thing, I’ve found it highly difficult to ghostwrite, because I just cannot get the eyeholes right. Perhaps someday, in fact, it may become next year’s resolution. At any rate, I hope this dispels any rumors you may have heard, and reinforces any beliefs you have about me. Mark Twain once said, “A lie travels halfway around the world before the truth has put on its shoes.” Consider this, then, a truth shoehorn, or a truthhorn. And never forget the immortal words of Thor, who said, “I’m immortal, dammit, stop poking me with that thing.” These words are truly words with which to keep it real.
Friday, January 9, 2009
THE GAFFE SQUAD: CLASSIC LITERATURE EDITION
CATCHER IN THE RYE: When his roommate asks him what he is reading, Holden Caulfield replies, “Goddam book.” He is actually reading the Bible, which God has yet to damnify.
THE ODYSSEY: The author credited to this epic poem is Homer, however Homer is blind and could not read nor write nor talk with his eyes.
ROMEO & JULIET: There’s a misspelling on page 75.
THE ADVENTURES OF HUCKLEBERRY FINN: When Huck and Jim are rafting down the Mississippi River, Huck’s hat switches from his left hand to his right. Also, Jim is briefly an Indian.
ULYSSESS: Leopold Bloom trips on page 124, and slowly rises to his feet, but is on the ground again on page 125.
OLIVER TWIST: The Sprite bottle Fagin drinks from on page 348 is empty, but is almost full again on page 349. Oliver’s hair changes color from Chapter 13 to Chapter 14.
ON THE ROAD: “That’s not writing, that’s typing,” Truman Capote famously quipped. He was in fact, both right and wrong. It was writing on a typewriter.
STRANGER IN A STRANGE LAND: Binding is loose between chapters 19 and 20.
THE SPY WHO CAME IN FROM THE COLD: It was actually a balmy 45 degrees the spy came in from. However, some believe, “the Cold” in the title is a metaphor; it doesn’t explain why the spy literally came in from the comfortably temperate.
THE ODYSSEY: The author credited to this epic poem is Homer, however Homer is blind and could not read nor write nor talk with his eyes.
ROMEO & JULIET: There’s a misspelling on page 75.
THE ADVENTURES OF HUCKLEBERRY FINN: When Huck and Jim are rafting down the Mississippi River, Huck’s hat switches from his left hand to his right. Also, Jim is briefly an Indian.
ULYSSESS: Leopold Bloom trips on page 124, and slowly rises to his feet, but is on the ground again on page 125.
OLIVER TWIST: The Sprite bottle Fagin drinks from on page 348 is empty, but is almost full again on page 349. Oliver’s hair changes color from Chapter 13 to Chapter 14.
ON THE ROAD: “That’s not writing, that’s typing,” Truman Capote famously quipped. He was in fact, both right and wrong. It was writing on a typewriter.
STRANGER IN A STRANGE LAND: Binding is loose between chapters 19 and 20.
THE SPY WHO CAME IN FROM THE COLD: It was actually a balmy 45 degrees the spy came in from. However, some believe, “the Cold” in the title is a metaphor; it doesn’t explain why the spy literally came in from the comfortably temperate.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
MYCROFT SCHWARZ, MATH DETECTIVE!
(Cross, a villain is snatching a priceless antique. His henchman, Felder, assists with all the heavy lifting.)
CROSS: Tee hee ha! No one will ever suspect us of foul play, Felder. And if they try to investigate the crime scene, I’ll stymie them up so much, they’ll be confounded until next Christmas!
FELDER: But how do you plan to do that, Mr. Cross?
CROSS: Simple. I’ll leave this impossible to solve math query. Good luck, police chumps!
FELDER: The square root of 15? Crakes, they’ll be scratching their heads over that one for a lifetime of head-scratches.
CROSS: Indeed, my dear, sweet, malfeasant ally. A lifetime of head-scratches indeed.
(They laugh in an evil manner. Then they take the antique quickly, as the alarm is triggered. We cut to the City Police Department, where Mycroft is showing off his enormous powers to Chief Tanny.)
MYCROFT: Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong, sir. Six times six equals thirty-six.
TANNY: (After a stunned pause.) How… do you DO that?
MYCROFT: It’s a gift, but it’s also a curse, Chief.
TANNY: Zounds! I can see how it’s a gift, but a curse? Homina wha?
MYCROFT: It’s… difficult for me to explain without the aid of a Venn Diagram.
TANNY: The deuce, you say.
MYCROFT: I never said two…
(Cadet Koppel races into the Chief’s office, spoiling the delicious ambience the room had until then wallowed in.)
KOPPEL: Chief, Chief, big news, big news!
TANNY: News? Big? Expectorate it, Cadet Koppel, straightaways!
KOPPEL: The World’s Most Priceless Antique, it’s been- it’s been-
TANNY: What? Been what, has it been?
KOPPEL: Stolen, Chief Tanny, it’s been stolen.
TANNY: Stolen, as if it were a common antique. How dare they!
KOPPEL: But- but- that’s not all, Chief. There’s actually more!
TANNY: I refuse to believe it!
KOPPEL: But there is! They left this clue behind.
MYCROFT: Let me see that.
KOPPEL: I’m afraid I can’t authorize you to be able to snatch that from me, stranger. You do not have the snatching authorization.
TANNY: Cadet Koppel, this is the estimable Mycroft Schwarz, Math Detective. And as the Chief Tanny, I bestow all over him full snatch authorization.
MYCROFT: Thank you, Chief. Why… this is a mathematical clue!
TANNY: Saints preserve us! What kind of foul, shady, no-good unpreserved-by-saints crook would leave such a clue?
MYCROFT: Only one. Plus one.
KOPPEL: One plus one? You don’t mean…
MYCROFT: The deuce, I say. Namely, those deuces are named Cross and Felder. And those deuces have left one doozy of a problem, here. The square root of 15. This shall take all of my mathematical knowledge, and even then, I can’t be certain I can solve it.
TANNY: Surely you jest, Senor Schwarz.
MYCROFT: Nay, I dare not jest when it comes to the mathematical sciences. It would be like spitting in the crack of the Creator.
KOPPEL: Gasp!
MYCROFT: I must retire to my Math Lab to calculate this equation. I shall return only when and ONLY when I have solved it.
TANNY: Saints prepackage us; we shall await your return.
KOPPEL: Do I have to?
(We see Mycroft crumpling papers, banging his head on his desk, drinking heavily, writing and erasing and re-writing on a clear board, typing into a computer, and finally, asleep at his desk, he arises with a look of triumph on his face. We then cut to Cross and Felder, sipping cocoa, their feet propped up on the priceless antique.)
CROSS: Where’d you get this cocoa from anyway?
FELDER: It’s Swiss Miss.
CROSS: No way! But it tastes so creamy and fresh, you’d hardly tell it was instant.
FELDER: Oh, I agree. Swiss Miss makes the best cocoa ever. Aside from the homemade stuff.
CROSS: Oh, this doesn’t hold a candle to that.
(Mycroft bursts in.)
MYCROFT: Looking for something?
CROSS: Mycroft Schwarz, my sworn enemy! Where you been?
MYCROFT: Waiting, waiting for the right moment.
FELDER: How did you find us? And where?
MYCROFT: Pretty sneaky clue you left behind, it took me the better part of a scene to solve it, but then I knew I’d find you here- at 3.8729833462074168851792653997824 Brookview Avenue.
CROSS: Curses!
TANNY: You’ll be cursing a lot. In jail.
KOPPEL: That’s right. Jail cursing.
TANNY: Say, is that the curse you were talking about before, Mycroft?
MYCROFT: Not even close, you magnificent asshat.
(Everyone laughs at Mycroft’s piercing wit. Then it’s The End.)
CROSS: Tee hee ha! No one will ever suspect us of foul play, Felder. And if they try to investigate the crime scene, I’ll stymie them up so much, they’ll be confounded until next Christmas!
FELDER: But how do you plan to do that, Mr. Cross?
CROSS: Simple. I’ll leave this impossible to solve math query. Good luck, police chumps!
FELDER: The square root of 15? Crakes, they’ll be scratching their heads over that one for a lifetime of head-scratches.
CROSS: Indeed, my dear, sweet, malfeasant ally. A lifetime of head-scratches indeed.
(They laugh in an evil manner. Then they take the antique quickly, as the alarm is triggered. We cut to the City Police Department, where Mycroft is showing off his enormous powers to Chief Tanny.)
MYCROFT: Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong, sir. Six times six equals thirty-six.
TANNY: (After a stunned pause.) How… do you DO that?
MYCROFT: It’s a gift, but it’s also a curse, Chief.
TANNY: Zounds! I can see how it’s a gift, but a curse? Homina wha?
MYCROFT: It’s… difficult for me to explain without the aid of a Venn Diagram.
TANNY: The deuce, you say.
MYCROFT: I never said two…
(Cadet Koppel races into the Chief’s office, spoiling the delicious ambience the room had until then wallowed in.)
KOPPEL: Chief, Chief, big news, big news!
TANNY: News? Big? Expectorate it, Cadet Koppel, straightaways!
KOPPEL: The World’s Most Priceless Antique, it’s been- it’s been-
TANNY: What? Been what, has it been?
KOPPEL: Stolen, Chief Tanny, it’s been stolen.
TANNY: Stolen, as if it were a common antique. How dare they!
KOPPEL: But- but- that’s not all, Chief. There’s actually more!
TANNY: I refuse to believe it!
KOPPEL: But there is! They left this clue behind.
MYCROFT: Let me see that.
KOPPEL: I’m afraid I can’t authorize you to be able to snatch that from me, stranger. You do not have the snatching authorization.
TANNY: Cadet Koppel, this is the estimable Mycroft Schwarz, Math Detective. And as the Chief Tanny, I bestow all over him full snatch authorization.
MYCROFT: Thank you, Chief. Why… this is a mathematical clue!
TANNY: Saints preserve us! What kind of foul, shady, no-good unpreserved-by-saints crook would leave such a clue?
MYCROFT: Only one. Plus one.
KOPPEL: One plus one? You don’t mean…
MYCROFT: The deuce, I say. Namely, those deuces are named Cross and Felder. And those deuces have left one doozy of a problem, here. The square root of 15. This shall take all of my mathematical knowledge, and even then, I can’t be certain I can solve it.
TANNY: Surely you jest, Senor Schwarz.
MYCROFT: Nay, I dare not jest when it comes to the mathematical sciences. It would be like spitting in the crack of the Creator.
KOPPEL: Gasp!
MYCROFT: I must retire to my Math Lab to calculate this equation. I shall return only when and ONLY when I have solved it.
TANNY: Saints prepackage us; we shall await your return.
KOPPEL: Do I have to?
(We see Mycroft crumpling papers, banging his head on his desk, drinking heavily, writing and erasing and re-writing on a clear board, typing into a computer, and finally, asleep at his desk, he arises with a look of triumph on his face. We then cut to Cross and Felder, sipping cocoa, their feet propped up on the priceless antique.)
CROSS: Where’d you get this cocoa from anyway?
FELDER: It’s Swiss Miss.
CROSS: No way! But it tastes so creamy and fresh, you’d hardly tell it was instant.
FELDER: Oh, I agree. Swiss Miss makes the best cocoa ever. Aside from the homemade stuff.
CROSS: Oh, this doesn’t hold a candle to that.
(Mycroft bursts in.)
MYCROFT: Looking for something?
CROSS: Mycroft Schwarz, my sworn enemy! Where you been?
MYCROFT: Waiting, waiting for the right moment.
FELDER: How did you find us? And where?
MYCROFT: Pretty sneaky clue you left behind, it took me the better part of a scene to solve it, but then I knew I’d find you here- at 3.8729833462074168851792653997824 Brookview Avenue.
CROSS: Curses!
TANNY: You’ll be cursing a lot. In jail.
KOPPEL: That’s right. Jail cursing.
TANNY: Say, is that the curse you were talking about before, Mycroft?
MYCROFT: Not even close, you magnificent asshat.
(Everyone laughs at Mycroft’s piercing wit. Then it’s The End.)
Monday, January 5, 2009
FISTFIGHT CIRCUS!
Come one, come everyone, to the first and only circus of its kind, Bix’s Fistfight Circus! Tired of the same old big top, with boring acrobats, depressing clowns and lion tamers with unflattering asses? You’ll find none of these at my circus. What you’ll find is more exciting- fistfights!
Have you ever seen a grizzly bear bitch-slapped by a gorilla? Step right up! Ever seen two clowns knocked unconscious simultaneously? Step right up! Ever seen a trapeze artist take one in the breadbasket mid-flight? Brother, you best step right up, because I’ve got the treat of the century.
You were probably under the false impression that circus performers were jolly, positive, non-violent types. Well, we’ve tapped into one aspect of circus performers no one has tapped into before: resentment. You don’t think the Human Cannonball has a beef with That Guy Who Walks Around On Stilts? Think again. How about the Magician and the Sword Swallower? Lots of bad blood there. And don’t get me started on the elephants. You practically have to hold them back whenever anybody affiliated with the circus passes by. Well, elephant hold back no more! Those big old sacks of potatoes are free to knock the block clear off whoever they want. Firebreather, Contortionist, the elephant trainers, you name it.
And just like the classic circus of yore-times, we haven’t left out the Freak Show. And yes, they’re raring to throw some punches as well. We’ve got that hermaphroditic he/she guy who fights amongst him/herself, we’ve got a Dog-Faced Boy who not only punches, he bites! There’s the Haiku Triplets, ages 5, 7 and 5; they’re young but scrappy and not unlike their arch-nemesis the Dog-Faced Boy they’re not afraid to bite. We have Siamese Twins too, though fair warning, they aren’t actually conjoined, just twins who happen to be from Siam. And like most freak shows we’ve got a lady with a beard- on her face! Like, right directly smack on her face. And she’s the meanest of all, which probably stems from the beard she has. And she’s a lady! But really, it’s a crazy mishmash melee of beatings like Road House meets the circus. Which is the best circus of all time, I guarantee you that for free.
Look, I’m not gonna lie to you. It’s not exactly family friendly. But come on, ten years from now, is your kid really gonna remember your average run-of-the-mill circus, or are they gonna remember the all-out-orgy-of-violence that is Fistfight Circus? Which takes all the whimsy of your old-fashioned circus memories and beat them like a red-headed step-child? Fistfight Circus is the Official Circus of Bruised Ginger Step-Kids. That’s a promise from me straight out to you, or my name ain’t Bix, like the bandleader, or the pen with an X.
So, come on down. The natives are restless, as they say, and I can’t keep them from each other’s throatses much longer. Also, be advised for your own safety, you shouldn’t attend Fistfight Circus unless you can defend yourself and your loved ones, and that Bix’s Fistfight Circus is not liable for any injuries caused by Bix’s Fistfight Circus, such as whiplash, tooth loss, bloody nose, loss of breath, loss of limb, children apparel or memory, and cirrhosis. But theses instances are relatively rareish. So please, come on down. We’re located at my house, 15 Spring Street, in the backyard, probably spilling into the neighbors’ yards. It’s gonna be classic!
Have you ever seen a grizzly bear bitch-slapped by a gorilla? Step right up! Ever seen two clowns knocked unconscious simultaneously? Step right up! Ever seen a trapeze artist take one in the breadbasket mid-flight? Brother, you best step right up, because I’ve got the treat of the century.
You were probably under the false impression that circus performers were jolly, positive, non-violent types. Well, we’ve tapped into one aspect of circus performers no one has tapped into before: resentment. You don’t think the Human Cannonball has a beef with That Guy Who Walks Around On Stilts? Think again. How about the Magician and the Sword Swallower? Lots of bad blood there. And don’t get me started on the elephants. You practically have to hold them back whenever anybody affiliated with the circus passes by. Well, elephant hold back no more! Those big old sacks of potatoes are free to knock the block clear off whoever they want. Firebreather, Contortionist, the elephant trainers, you name it.
And just like the classic circus of yore-times, we haven’t left out the Freak Show. And yes, they’re raring to throw some punches as well. We’ve got that hermaphroditic he/she guy who fights amongst him/herself, we’ve got a Dog-Faced Boy who not only punches, he bites! There’s the Haiku Triplets, ages 5, 7 and 5; they’re young but scrappy and not unlike their arch-nemesis the Dog-Faced Boy they’re not afraid to bite. We have Siamese Twins too, though fair warning, they aren’t actually conjoined, just twins who happen to be from Siam. And like most freak shows we’ve got a lady with a beard- on her face! Like, right directly smack on her face. And she’s the meanest of all, which probably stems from the beard she has. And she’s a lady! But really, it’s a crazy mishmash melee of beatings like Road House meets the circus. Which is the best circus of all time, I guarantee you that for free.
Look, I’m not gonna lie to you. It’s not exactly family friendly. But come on, ten years from now, is your kid really gonna remember your average run-of-the-mill circus, or are they gonna remember the all-out-orgy-of-violence that is Fistfight Circus? Which takes all the whimsy of your old-fashioned circus memories and beat them like a red-headed step-child? Fistfight Circus is the Official Circus of Bruised Ginger Step-Kids. That’s a promise from me straight out to you, or my name ain’t Bix, like the bandleader, or the pen with an X.
So, come on down. The natives are restless, as they say, and I can’t keep them from each other’s throatses much longer. Also, be advised for your own safety, you shouldn’t attend Fistfight Circus unless you can defend yourself and your loved ones, and that Bix’s Fistfight Circus is not liable for any injuries caused by Bix’s Fistfight Circus, such as whiplash, tooth loss, bloody nose, loss of breath, loss of limb, children apparel or memory, and cirrhosis. But theses instances are relatively rareish. So please, come on down. We’re located at my house, 15 Spring Street, in the backyard, probably spilling into the neighbors’ yards. It’s gonna be classic!
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