AN UNPRODUCED SKETCH
COMEDY SHOW
“Amish Rock,” “Storytime,”
“Brad and Annie,” “Possessed Computer” etc.
by Garrett Gilchrist
(written for a radio show)
(A cacophony of random sounds, screaming, bangings,
static, music, at half speed, doublespeed, pure chaos. Gradually it organizes
itself into the ambient noise of a commercial recording session. A director
shouts incomprehensibly from a seemingly faroff vantage.)
TECHNICIAN: And ... cue.
REPORTER 1: And just a reminder that later tonight, we'll
be having a live, exclusive interview with a fabulous celebrity guest. But now
the nightly news, introduced as usual by Satan.
SATAN: Good evening, mortals, WELCOME to HELL! ... And
it's from hell that we go to Washington.
REPORTER 2: Hello. Christopher Stevens here, in
Washington. And there's a lot of excitement here at the moment, it looks like
something terribly important and interesting is about to happen, yes, it looks
like it just might, is something happening here in Washington??
VOICE: ... No.
REPORTER 2: Damn. (coughs awkwardly) From Washington, we
take you now to New York.
REPORTER 3: This is Christopher David, in New York. And
from New York, let's go to Paris.
REPORTER 4: Bonjour, mes bons gens! Je suis Christopher
Christopher, in Paree, where absolutely nossing is happening at ze moment. Zip,
zero, nada, nil. Pas d'occurrence. So let's go to Egypt. Hello, Alexandria!
ALEXANDRIA: Hi, Chris. Alexandria here, reporting from
Alexandria, where right now the Alexandrians are busy preparing for the first
annual all-Alexandria Alexandrian league parade for the betterment of the city
of, yes you guessed it, Alexandria. And these exciting preparations will be
starting up in just over ... five months. (long pause, sniffs a bit) Can we
wait -- no, I suppose not. Er, Alexandria Alexandria, in Alexandria for the
all-Alexandria Alexandrian league Alexandrian Alexandria parade, signing off.
REPORTER 1: Thank you, Alexandria Alexandria. Well, from
Alexandria Alexandria's Alexandrian Alexandria report, we go to Pennsylvania.
VOICE: We're already in Pennsylvania!
REPORTER 1: There you are then. Saves money. ... Stupid
director. Can someone fire him?
STAGEHAND: Right-o.
F/X FLAMETHROWER BEING LIT, SCREAMING, AND A THUD
REPORTER 1: Well, the biggest news here in Pennsylvania
Deutsch country is that the Amish, after hundreds of years of carefully and
simply modeled tradition, are trying to change their image. To this end, they
have adopted a more youthful look, and a more relaxed attitude toward practices
once thought unholy. Namely, rock music. Christopher?
F/X SOUND OF SCREAMING FANS
REPORTER 5: Hello. Well, as you can tell quite plainly
there's no lack of excitement here as screaming fans, AGGH!, wait outside this
small wooden Amish home for their first glimpse of today's newest teen idols,
the rock group "The Angry Young Amish."
F/X SCREAMS GET LOUDER, BRIEFLY
REPORTER 5: And I'm standing here with Louis Martin ...
MARTIN: Heyyy.
REPORTER 5: ... the band's promoter. Mr. Martin, why do
you think these four young lads from Amish country have become such an
unprecedented success in a space of just a few weeks?
MARTIN: [laidback to a fault] Listen ... we don't pay
these boys to be dumb. If they are, fine, but we'll give them no money. They
keep it real, that's why they're a hit now and they'll remain a hit for
millions of dollars to come, ahh, ayyy.
REPORTER 5: I understand the boys use no electric power
in their stage act.
MARTIN: That is a lie! I will deny that with every ... oh
sorry, yeaaahhh, the boys have been great. We can take 'em out on tour, in the
horsecart, and all the fans are given candles, for that intimate kind of feel.
REPORTER 5: Can you see anything?
MARTIN: You can't see anything, no, but that's part of
the charm, really. The fans love it.
F/X SCREAMS GET LOUDER, BRIEFLY
MARTIN: They're real people, these boys, they're not
polystyrene, and the public has responded to that. When they're out on stage,
playing instruments they built themselves, with their own sweat and tears ...
you did know they make their own instruments, didn't you?
REPORTER 5: No, no I didn't.
F/X DEAFENING SCREAMS, CUTTING OUT UPON RETURNING TO
STUDIO B.G.
REPORTER 1: Brother Ezekiel Jeremiah Jedediah Zebediah
"Axl" Smith is lead vocalist for "The Angry Young Amish."
He also built the ampitheater they play in, and tends the official band goat.
BROTHER AXL: [stiff, pious and Germanic] I like to think
that we, o my musical brothers and I, that we are doing something that will in
the end of things be for the general betterment of our small but proud
community, for all are like brethren in the name of the great faith of the rock
and the roll.
F/X CHEERING CROWD "Do it, brother Axl!" ETC.
THEY SING THEIR SONG, A BLUESY NUMBER WITH OCCASIONAL BACKUP VOCALS BY A GOAT.
ALL INSTRUMENTS ARE ACOUSTIC AND SOUND A BIT SILLY.
My
farm's a shambles
My
crop's a dud
Ain't
got no auto
And
my cart's stuck in the mud
I
got the blues
Ohhhhhh
yeah
I
got them knock-down, drag-out
Pious
Pennsylvania Deutsch bla-hoo-hoos ...
ANNOUNCER: Ah yes, very nice, thank you Lucretia.
F/X ROBOT NOISES
ANNOUNCER: That was the "Amish Rock" sketch,
and I hope I enjoyed it as much as you did. And next up it's time for the first
installment in our twelve hundred hour radio dramatization of Dostoevsky's
"See Spot Run." This program was written by a donkey named Steven,
and will air for twenty-nine and a half seconds before the tape inexplicably
catches on fire.
F/X MOANING OF A GREEKISH CHORUS
DRAMATIC ACTOR: Oh, see! See Spot run. Run, spot, run.
For Spot must run from the blackness of his soul, which he tries to conceal
from the world but which shines out like a greasy beacon every time he bears
his blackened back to the sun. Oh, Spot! See, see, are we too blind to see the
pain in Sp --
F/X TAPE CATCHING FIRE, VARIOUS CHAOTIC TAPE-BREAKING
NOISES, FADING INTO SILENCE.
WORKER 1: Well, that's that.
WORKER 2: So it is.
WORKER 3: Michael?
WORKER 1: Yes, Ivan?
WORKER 3: Why do we always have to light these tapes on
fire?
WORKER 1: Ours is not to question why, Ivan, ours is but
to do or suffer a slight pay cut.
WORKER 3: Oh.
WORKER 2: He is right, you know though, Michael. We never
get the cushy jobs. Not much room for social climbing when you're a
taper-lighter-on-firer.
WORKER 3: The hours are good.
WORKER 2: Yes, the hours are good, certainly, but we
never get the respect we deserve.
WORKER 1: We're stupid people, Alexei, since when do we
deserve respect?
WORKER 2: You're overcomplicating the point. We can't
help it if we're stupid.
WORKER 3: We could go to night school.
WORKER 2: Night school, yes, but first we'd have to quit
working here.
WORKER 1: And get some presentable suits.
WORKER 3: Presentable suits, yes. These duck costumes are
awful!
WORKER 2: This is beside the point.
WORKER 1: Then what is the point?
WORKER 2: Something very important which I can't remember
at the moment.
WORKER 3: I can't remember it either. Quack.
WORKER 1: I told you we were stupid.
WORKER 2: Even stupid people need rights.
WORKER 3: Not many rights.
WORKER 2: Not many rights, yes, I suppose, but ...
WORKER 3: Because we couldn't understand them all.
WORKER 2: Yes. But we do need some rights!
WORKER 1: Agreed. Quack.
WORKER 2: We have to list our demands! We need a worker's
union. The taper-lighter-on-firers of Dr. Fred need a union!
WORKER 3: What a mother of a concept.
WORKER 2: Quack.
WORKER 1: I think you may be on to something there,
Alexei. I'm not sure what, but something is something.
WORKER 3: And something's wrong when the execs haven't
paid us in a week.
WORKER 1: They haven't paid me in two weeks.
WORKER 2: They haven't paid me in two years!
WORKER 3: I say we go and talk to them now, show them we
mean business!
WORKER 2: I agree.
WORKER 1: Hear, hear!
F/X THEY ALL RUN OUT THE DOOR
(brief, inexplicable musical interlude ... random sounds,
screaming, small artillery fire and the song "There Was a Little Spanish
Flea.")
ANNOUNCER: A short time later ... DadadaDAdadadada ...
F/X THEY ALL RUN BACK IN THE DOOR
WORKER 2: That didn't go too well, did it?
WORKER 1: What do you expect from a producer who wears a
dress and a gorilla mask to work?
WORKER 3: Batman and Robin?
WORKER 2: Look, we'll never be able to fight the system
if we don't get organized!
WORKER 3: What?
WORKER 2: Yes! We need strong leadership! You! Stand
here! You! Stand over there!
WORKER 1: What are we going to do?
WORKER 2: Draw up our list of demands!
WORKER 3: You! Draw up our list of demands!
WORKER 2: I'm leading here!
WORKER 3: Sorry ...
WORKER 2: You! Draw up our list of demands!
WORKER 1: But what should we demand?
WORKER 2: Melon.
WORKER 1: Melon?
WORKER 1: Tell them we want melon. And an ice-cream
scoop.
WORKER 3: An ice-cream scoop? What for?
WORKER 1: To scoop out the melon, of course.
WORKER 2: I usually use a large knife to cut the melon
into segments before eating it myself, never a scoop.
WORKER 3: A knife? They'll never let us handle a knife.
We might do something stupid with it.
WORKER 2: They let us handle flamethrowers.
WORKER 3: Flamethrowers are one thing, Alexei. Knives are
something entirely different.
WORKER 2: Of course they're something entirely different.
They're knives.
WORKER 1: Knives aren't that different.
WORKER 2: From what?
WORKER 1: From knives. They're not that different from
other knives.
WORKER 2: They're different from flamethrowers.
WORKER 1: Different from flamethrowers, yes, but knives
aren't different from knives. In fact, I'd say they're exactly the same as
knives.
WORKER 3: He's got you there, Alexei.
WORKER 1: Anyway, I think we're missing the point here.
WORKER 2: Which is?
WORKER 1: The melon. We demand melon.
WORKER 3: Yes, melon!
WORKER 2: Let's go in there and give that melon-hating
dress-wearing gorilla producer the what-for!
WORKER 3: Huzzah!
WORKER 1: Melon HOOOOOOOOOO!!
(another inexplicable musical interlude, again with a
large group singing "There Was a Little Spanish Flea.")
F/X FADE IN ON THE SOUND OF A ROOM FULL OF BUSY
TYPEWRITERS
BOSS: No, you may NOT have more whiskey! You've already
sucked down six crates full!
F/X SOUND OF MONKEYS JABBERING MADLY
F/X BUZZER
ANNOUNCER: We interrupt this program to say that we’ve
interrupted this program. Just because we feel like it.
F/X BUZZER
ANNOUNCER 2: I would just like to interrupt at this
moment to say I've interrupted the interrupter. I like to think my mommy would
be proud.
F/X BUZZER
MOTHER: I would just like to interrupt at this moment to
say I'm not proud of my son's actions, because I always rather liked that first
announcer, so when he comes home tonight I just might give him a severe
beating. The son, I mean. Not the announcer. Well, the announcer too. If he wants.
F/X BUZZER
ANNOUNCER 3: We aporogize for intelluption. All bettah
now. Arr to now watch the first sketch, which take prace at small apaltment
near Jernnah Stleet.
(ANNIE is singing "Spider-man" to herself in a
romantic way.)
F/X DOOR OPENING
BRAD: Hello, Annie.
ANNIE: Oh! Hi, hello, Brad. How've you been?
BRAD: Fine, just fine. Annie?
ANNIE: Yes?
BRAD: There's ... something I've been meaning to tell
you.
ANNIE: Brad, what ... what is it?
BRAD: I'm -- I'm not the man you thought I was, Annie.
ANNIE: What do you mean?
BRAD: I'm a lizard, Annie.
ANNIE: A what?
BRAD: A lizard. I'm small and green with rotating eyes
...
ANNIE: Brad!
BRAD: I'm cold-blooded, Annie. I've got padded feet, and
a sticky tongue for catching insects, I'm a reptile, and -- and I understand if
you don't love me anymore.
ANNIE: Brad! I -- ohh, I don't know what to think. Why
did you keep this from me for so long?
BRAD: Well, I thought at first you'd notice. ...
Eventually. I mean.
(long pause, ANNIE speaks very quietly at first)
ANNIE: ... You ... know I'll always love you, Brad. Oh,
oh, come here, you webby-fingered fool!
BRAD: Oh, Annie!
ANNIE: Oh, Brad!
BRAD: Oh, oh, Annie!
ANNIE: Oh, oh, Brad!
BRAD: But ... but what will your parents say?
ANNIE: I don't care what they think, Brad, I'd love you
if you were ten feet tall with a kit model of St. Paul's Cathedral sticking out
your neck.
BRAD: Like you, you mean.
ANNIE: Yeah.
F/X ROMANTIC MUSIC SWELLS, THEN STATIC, TAPE BREAKING,
USUAL CONGLOMERATE OF ODD NOISES, FADING TO A DULL HUM, WHICH LASTS RATHER A
WHILE
(music. Rhythmic "cops-like" theme)
VOICEOVER: You take your life into your own hands every
day on this job. You don't want to add to the violence on tv, but still you
can't help it. We're just trying to have fun, you know? Some days, it isn't
even worth being a narrator. You take over, Bob.
SECOND VOICEOVER: Oh, can I? Can I really?
VOICEOVER: Calm down, Bob.
SECOND VOICEOVER: Right. [clears throat, voice drops
several octaves] The people you're about to see are real. Only their actions
are fake.
VOICEOVER: We were on patrol at 9:00 AM that day,
cruising out looking for wayward geese...
SECOND VOICEOVER: Ay, ay! This is my voiceover! You've
given up your voiceover rights!
VOICEOVER: You're a rotten bastard, Bob.
SECOND VOICEOVER: Yes, it's not all fun and games here.
VOICEOVER: It's a cold, cruel, unjust kind of life.
SECOND VOICEOVER: Yes, it's not all fun and games here.
VOICEOVER: You already said that.
SECOND VOICEOVER: The work these young people do is
tough, and unrewarding.
VOICEOVER: They're never paid, and even after two years
of work the final shows are rarely watched by anyone.
SECOND VOICEOVER: Occasionally, they run into meat
shortages, and have to survive on crackers.
VOICEOVER: Their work is never done. It is a 24-hour-a-day
struggle to try and be funny.
SECOND VOICEOVER: They rarely succeed.
VOICEOVER: Today, the sketch has been particularly
unsuccessful, and will have to be abandoned.
SECOND VOICEOVER: The cast will have to go home, and
dream of more interesting material.
VOICEOVER: Yes, it's not all fun and games being a ...
SECOND VOICEOVER: That's my line, dammit!
VOICEOVER: Oh, bite me, Stan.
SECOND VOICEOVER: Oh, is that it? Is that the way you
want to play?
VOICEOVER: Yeah, come on. Y'scared, Stan? Y'gonna cry?
SECOND VOICEOVER: Right, that's it.
[sounds of fighting ensue.]
(serene music, cut into briefly by the comparatively
harsh sounds of a radio announcer)
ANNOUNCER: Children's hour.
KID'S SHOW HOST: Hello children. Hi. It's a lovely day
today, isn't it? It's a lovely day everyday in the land of let's-pretend. Do
you want me to read you a story. Good. The story begins like this ... Once upon
a time, in the magical kingdom of Magicland, there lived eight magical gnomes.
Not nine magical gnomes, mind you, but EIGHT. And all day long these magical
gnomes would weave magical spells and flower baskets, singing magical happy
songs of happiness and magic. These magical gnomes were happy in their magical
Magicland, but just around the corner, in the dark and unhappy black magical
mountains to the East, there lurked a horrible nasty monster. And that
monster's name was SEXUALLY-TRANSMITTED DISEASE. But the magical gnomes of
magicland were not to be defeated. And that's why 9 out 10 magical gnomes use
Tiger Brand condoms, for that natural feeling. Do like the magical gnomes of
magical Magicland do, children. Practice safe sexual practices with Tiger Brand
condoms. They're the cat's meow!
(serene music again)
ANNOUNCER: Just another reminder that later in this
program we'll be having a rare live interview with the most famous and fabulous
movie star in the entire world, so stay tuned.
NARRATOR: You know you love her! You know you need her
new CD! You know you can't see around her forty-inch nose! She's Barbara
Streisand and you're gonna love her, or else!
BABS: (singing) PEE-PULL ... PEE-PULL WHO ARE PEOPLE ...
ARE PEOPLE ... I THINK ...
NARRATOR: Yes, Barbra Streisand. The greatest singer in
the entire history of time itself. The press release says so! And Bad Records
is proud to present her greatest hits!
BABS: THEY'RE PEOPLE ... PEOPLE CAN BE PEOPLE ... IF
THEY'RE PEOPLE ...
F/X PUNCH IS THROWN AND HITS BABSIE HARD
BABS: Waaagh!! Ah, people ... people people people ...
people people (PUNCH) Oof! People ... (PUNCH PUNCH PUNCH PUNCH PUNCH, THUD ...)
NARRATOR: "Babs Streisand's Greatest Hits to the
Face," coming soon .. er or later, from Really Bad Records!
SPEEDTALKER: James Brolin not included.
WIFE: 'Morning, deer.
HUSBAND: 'Mornin', gazelle. What's for breakfast?
WIFE: I didn't make any, dear - we're fresh out.
HUSBAND: No corn flakes?
WIFE: No, dear.
HUSBAND: No waffles?
WIFE: No, dear.
HUSBAND: No ham, sausage, bacon, and eggs, lightly
crisped, seasoned, and served with a delicate orange sauce imported from the
south of France, laid out in a pleasing f-an shape and placed over a bed of
crepes suzette?
WIFE: No, dear, sorry.
HUSBAND: Oh almighty breakfast gods, why have you
forsaken us?
WIFE: It'll be all right, dear. Have an apple.
HUSBAND: An apple?
WIFE: Yes, dear! An apple a day keeps the doctor away,
you know.
HUSBAND: But I don't LIKE apples!
F/X BIZARRE "WILLIAM TELL" SIRENS AND MILITARY
CLATTER
SMITH: DON'T LIKE APPLES?
WIFE: The apple police!
F/X MUSIC PEAKS AND CUTS OUT TO LOW DRUM POUNDING
SMITH: Yes, the apple police! Surround the area, men,
this one doesn't like apples!
NEWTON: (hopping on one foot) Hup hup hup hup hup hup
hup...
SMITH: Who are we?
F/X DRAMATIC "SWOOP" NOISE
NEWTON: Newton!
MACINTOSH: MacIntosh! (coughs ... he is sick throughout)
SMITH: Granny Smith! (grunt of embarassment) ... shut up.
What do we do?
NEWTON: Serve!
MACINTOSH: Promote! (cough)
SMITH: And protect that most beautiful and delicate of
fruits. (grunt of embarrassment) ... shut up. So, filthy heathens, we hear you
don't like apples!
HUSBAND: Well, I ...
SMITH: DON'T SPEAK! What's wrong with apples, you
disgusting smelly little carton of day-old yak cheese?
HUSBAND: I don't know; I just don't like the taste,
that's all.
SMITH: DON'T LIKE THE TASTE? Apples are the most perfect
food in the world! They give you ten essential vitamins and minerals - make
your teeth bright and your bones strong! An apple a day keeps the doctor away,
you know! Have you ever seen a sick person eating an apple?
HUSBAND: But that officer there, what about him?
F/X MACINTOSH COUGHING
SMITH: WHAT ABOUT HIM?
HUSBAND: Well, he's sick, and he's eating an apple.
SMITH: HE WAS SICK BEFORE HE ATE THE APPLE! He'll be back
on his feet again in no time!
HUSBAND: But I ...
SMITH: DON'T SPEAK! Do you think that the great American
apple has gotten to be what it is today alone? As American as Mom and apple
pie, APPLE pie, it could be no other! We work all our lives for the cause!
Thanks to us, apple cereals are eaten whether they taste like apples or not!
It's troublemakers like you that keep us awake at night.
NEWTON: Every night.
HUSBAND: Well, I...
SMITH: CEASE AND DESIST! Newton... bring them forth.
NEWTON: Yyyyes sir!
F/X FOOTSTEPS
SMITH: So, apple-hater, do you know what THESE are?!
HUSBAND: Um, well...
SMITH: DO YOU?!
HUSBAND: Yes, yes... Er, that's an orange, and that's a
banana.
SMITH: JUST AS I SUSPECTED! HE KNOWS OF THE OTHER FRUITS!
HUSBAND: Excuse me?
SMITH: How do you know of the other fruits? Who told you
about them?!
HUSBAND: Look, all I said was I didn't like apples!
(All scream)
MACINTOSH: He said it! He said it again!
SMITH: That's it! We will tolerate no more! ...To hear
you slander the name of our friend the noble apple .... (pause) ... well, it
makes me sad. (cries)
MACINTOSH: Noble apples.. (sobs)
SMITH: There, there, MacIntosh.
HUSBAND: Is this a joke?
SMITH: QUIET, FILTHY UGLY PIGEON-LEGGED NONBELIEVER!
MACINTOSH: Noble, noble apples.. (sobs)
HUSBAND: I'm sorry, I..
SMITH: SILENCE, FOUL AND BLASPHEMOUS NOO-NOO HEAD OF
DEATH! So, you think you can get away with your evil anti-apple actions? Well,
you think wrong, demonic disser of all things appline!
HUSBAND: I have an apple computer..
SMITH: FOR THE FINAL TIME, BE QUIET!
HUSBAND: Are you going to cry again?
SMITH: You might as well come out with it now ... you're
working for THEM, aren't you?
HUSBAND: Working for who?
SMITH: DON'T PLAY DUMB WITH ME! Who are you? Who sent
you? What do you know? You're working for CAEL, am I right?
HUSBAND: What?
SMITH: THE COVERT APPLE ELIMINATION LEAGUE! Don't play
the ninny, we know all about you ... you ... (footsteps, door opens) ... WHERE
ARE YOU GOING??
WIFE: Oh, ah, we thought we'd go out for breakfast. We
don't have any here, you know.
(awkward silence)
SMITH: All right, you can go. No, WAIT! ... That whole
atmosphere of menace thing ... did that work okay? We're kind of new at this,
and ...
HUSBAND: No, it was great, I was shaking in my proverbial
boots!
SMITH: You're not just saying that?
WIFE: No, no, honestly. You were convincingly dangerous.
SMITH: (bashful) Oh, you're too kind.
HUSBAND: So, ah, we'll be leaving now.
SMITH: (slightly deflated) R-right.
(They are long gone. Very awkward pause. Smith gives a
low sigh. MacIntosh coughs. Suddenly a beeping noise.)
MACINTOSH: There's a pear-grower's convention at
Hatterton and Elm.
SMITH: RIGHT!
(They rush into action. Dramatic music.)
NEWTON: Hup hup hup hup hup hup hup...
ANNOUNCER: That's right folks, the greatest most famous
and fabulous movie star in the entire known universe is waiting right in the
back of the studio, right back there, if you crane your neck you can kind of
make out the back of his head, the tip of his hair anyway, well, this is just a
radio program so you wouldn't be able to see him, but rest assured that if you
were able to see him, you'd be able ... to ... see him. And he'll be speaking
to us in a live, unrehearsed, uncensored interview, right after this.
(pause)
ANNOUNCER: No, we're not talking to him yet, we can't.
(pause) Legally, we can't. (pause) Yes, I know we want to, but ... (pause) Oh.
We've got nothing else to fill up this space with.
(long pause)
ANNOUNCER: You're telling me you don't have anything to
cut to right now? (pause) You haven't finished writing the program yet? (pause)
Oh, I'm sorry, the DRUNKEN MONKEYS WITH TYPEWRITERS haven't finished writing
the program yet, yes, that description of it gives me a whole hell of a lot
more faith in this endeavor. Just roll something, roll anything, fuck it, I
don't care anymore. (pause) I'm not supposed to say fuck on the air? (pause) Oh
right. Fuck. Sorry.
ANOTHER ANNOUNCER: This is another announcer speaking,
I've been asked to replace the previous announcer, who was just fired for
saying fuck on the air. (pause) What?
THIRD ANNOUNCER: Hello. This is a third announcer, I've
just been hired to replace the second announcer, who was hired to replace the
first announcer, who was fired, as was, ironically, the second announcer, for
saying, on the air, a word we're not supposed to say. And that word is
"fuck." (pause) Yeah, I know, I never liked this announcing job
anyway.
FOURTH ANNOUNCER: Good evening. This is yet another
announcer, replacing announcers one two and three, I'm the fourth announcer
who's had ten years experience in the industry and is too smart to fall for
this old trick. Yep, won't catch me saying "fuck" on the air. (pause)
What? Oh, fuck.
FIFTH ANNOUNCER: This is another fucking announcer, who ...
(laughs)
PRODUCER: Hi. This is the producer of this program. I've
fired all the announcers, and am doing this myself. And I'd just like to remind
you that we will indeed be talking with out fabulous celebrity guest, right
after the next segment, and I've just been informed by the lovely Miss Steven
Johnson in the writing room that we do, in fact, have a next segment, of some
sort. So without any further ado, we bring you, "Charlton Heston reads the
Bible." (pause) That's our next segment? We're actually airing this? Ah,
fuck.
CHARLTON HESTON: Charlton Heston Reads The Bible, chapter
1: Genesis. Hi, I'm Charlton Heston. In the beginning, there was nothing, and
then there was light. No, I've got that the wrong way round. In the beginning,
there was a flash of light, and then there was nothing, because they did it.
They finally did it. You maniacs! You blew it up! And then the apes came and I
said, get your stinking paws off me you damn dirty apes! Don't you know who I
am? I'm Moses, for Chrissake, I'm the star of this stupid picture. I'm the star
of this book too. Yeah, that's right, I'm the star of the Bible. I make the
Bible what it is. Without me, this Bible wouldn't be anything, you hear me? You
got an argument with that? Well, I got guns, lots of 'em, ammo, twelve frickin'
big polystryrene motorcycles and a bunch of monkeys ... (fades out)
CAST MEMBER: Well, we're back with the most famous and
fabulous motion picture star in the entire universe, who has agreed to say a
few words with us. Well, two words actually, just two words, he's under
contract to a major movie studio and they're only allowing him to say words ,
or else we have to pay him and them twenty million dollars. Is that right, only
two words? That's a yes, he's nodding his head yes. Well, let's get the
interview underway then, we're all fans here and there are a few questions
we're just dying to ask. And let me just say you're looking well.
SEAN CONNERY: Thank you.
CAST MEMBER: Well, we were all wondering, in the ... that
was two words, wasn't it? Are we done already? He's nodding his head yes. The
director's signaling me, well, I guess we are done. The actor, the fabulous
movie star has taken the cue and is leaving, he has a plane to catch
apparently, and, well ... hmm. Is that it? Well, I would like to thank our
celebrity guest, star of stage and screen, can we say what his name is? The
director's signalling no, the studio has the legal rights to his name as well,
and talking about that would also cost us several million dollars. So, um ...
(pause) We're still on? About how long do we have to fill, in the half-hour?
(pause) About a half-hour, yes, great. what do we ... ah ... what do we fill up
this space with? (pause) What space? (pause) The half-hour time slot where we
were supposed to talk with our guest about his past, present and purely
hypothetical future? Yeah, that. (pause) The director has advised me to just sit
here blinking. I know that's not terribly exciting, but those of you who lounge
around the house listening to comedy albums all day probably aren't looking for
much excitement anyway. So here goes. I will now attempt to blink continuously
for a half-hour. (long pause) The director has advised me that since this is a
sound program, and not a visual program, I will have to blink louder. I will
try this, it's difficult, this is only the second time this has ever been
attempted on a record album, and the first time didn't count, it was by a
member of the band The Sex Pistols and he was blinking a lot anyway at the time
and barely survived the incident, so here goes, I am now attempting to blink
loudly.
F/X VERY LOUD BLINKING
CAST MEMBER: Can you hear that? The director is
signalling that yes indeed, they can hear that, I have just blinked louder than
anyone on any previous record album, with the exception of drummer Paul Cook of
the Sex Pistols, who like I said doesn't count anyway. And the director is
signalling me that I may be given a spot in the Guinness Book of World Records.
(pause) No? Well, then, I'll be given a bottle of Guinness ... (pause) No,
again. A book by the late Sir Alec Guinness. (pause) No. Well, the director is
signalling me that the segment is nearly over, I know it hasn't yet been a full
half-hour, but the director is informing me, yes, the director is signalling me
that the recording studio has caught fire and is about to explode. Is that
right? Yes, that is right, so until next time ... (operatically) Can he
swing/from a thread ....
F/X fade out to duck noises and explosions ...
ANOTHER ANNOUNCER: And that last track will soon be
reissued by in a six-minute techno radio edit on vinyl and 8-track. Coming
soon, from Really Bad records.
F/X THE MICROSOFT SOUND (tm)
NERD: Come on, come on ...
F/X DING
NERD: No!
F/X DING
NERD: Aaargh!
F/X SERIES OF DINGS, FOLLOWED BY AN EEP
NERD: You stupid computer! Start up, damn you!
F/X EEP, DING, EEP, DING, FOLLOWED BY TINNY BY
UNMISTAKABLY EVIL MUSIC
NERD: Not again!
F/X SOUND OF HEAD BANGING ON DESK, FOLLOWED BY THE DEATH
KNELL FROM PAC-MAN
NERD: [sighs quietly]
FRIEND: What on earth are you doing up here?
NERD: Nothing, well, I ... aagh, it's this blasted cheap
computer again.
F/X SINGLE EEP
FRIEND: Still having startup problems, eh?
NERD: Well, yeah, but now it's gotten worse than that.
FRIEND: How so?
NERD: Lately, it's been starting up all on its own, and
... well, I'll show you.
F/X TWO CLICKS, AND A TA-DA
FRIEND: What's that?
NERD: A system message.
FRIEND: [reading] "Redrum." That's not an
ordinary system message, is it?
NERD: No, it's not.
F/X TINNY EVIL MUSIC AGAIN
FRIEND: Well old pal, (takes deep breath) I think your
problem is that your computer's possessed.
NERD: Possessed? How?
FRIEND: I dunno, let's check the manual.
F/X PAPER RUSTLING, FAINT "EEP"
NERD: Quiet, you.
F/X TA-DA
FRIEND: Ah. "Demon possession in non-Pentium
models."
NERD: What does it say?
FRIEND: Your system has probably come under the control
of a small hellbeast or sprite with dark and mysterious plans. It's not covered
under technical support. No matter, I think I can handle it, at work we've been
seeing a lot of this lately among Windows users. This is the telltale sign,
here. See that sticker on your hard drive?
F/X FINGER TAPPING ON METAL
NERD: [reading] "Evil Inside."
FRIEND: Exactly.
F/X SERIES OF QUICK PINGS AND A PONG
NERD: But -- but what can I do about it??
FRIEND: I suppose we could run PurgeDisk and install an
exorcism board, but the problem still might keep coming back.
F/X MADDENINGLY EVIL MUSIC, FOLLOWED BY AN EEP
FRIEND: What's that?
NERD: Another system message.
FRIEND: What's it say now?
NERD: "My dark lord Fyrpesha demands virgin
sacrifice."
FRIEND: Click "cancel," for now.
F/X TWO CLICKS, A SMALL ROAR, AND A DING
NERD: [sighs] Yeah. I guess I'll just have to get a new
computer.
FRIEND: Smart thinking. To avoid the various creatures of
the dark realm in your computer shopping, next time I'd recommend getting an
Apple.
NERD: [losing it] But I don't LIKE apples!
F/X DRAMATIC CRASH AND SIRENS, CLATTER OF FEET
GRANNY SMITH: DON'T LIKE APPLES?!?
F/X GASPS, THEN RECORD SCRATCHING AND CLATTER OF A TAPE
FAILURE
DIRECTOR: Someone once said, I think it was Akira
Kurosawa, or maybe Howie Mandel, that a movie is never really finished, just
abandoned. I knew when I finished my space movie, my first, buy the
merchandising, that I really hadn't gotten everything I wanted done, done. Uh,
uh, uh, uh, uh, yeah, uh, uh, uh. And so I've decided to go back and really try
to fix that; what I'm doing now is, I've gone back, I've spent some time
restoring the movie, really trying to make it better, than it was, and I've
also added some new scenes, on the computer.
BALDING PRODUCER: Well, the problem with the first movie
was that we let [George] think he was in charge of it all. And he did create
some interesting scenes, and fill the story out quite a bit, but quite a lot of
it was crap. So we've stolen the movie from him, told him a few quick lies to
make him think he's still in charge, and we're redoing it.
DIRECTOR: Well, I knew that 2018 is the 20th anniversary
of my movie, and that's less than two decades away, so I knew I had to get
going quick, because there's a lot I can do, in 2018, that I couldn't back in
1998. That was the excuse I used.
EFFECTS TECHNICIAN: No, we haven't added any new scenes.
PRODUCER: We told [George] we were adding new scenes.
DIRECTOR: I've added some new scenes.
PRODUCER: George is an idiot. But he's a rich idiot. We
humor him.
DIRECTOR: I've added a CGI Jabba the Hutt, to, uh, uh,
uh, to, uh, to every single shot in the movie ...
PRODUCER: Oh god. (pause, we hear him take a drink) No, I
think we have to keep [George] alive, because the fans like to have him around
as a comfort. But if I had my way I would eliminate him, yes.
DIRECTOR: There was supposed to be a big musical number,
but ...
[fade out]
DOCTOR: How is he, Flehmeleihtener?
MONTROSS: Still no change, doctor.
DOCTOR: The poor bastard. The poor, poor bastard. Tell
me, Flehmeleihtener, how do they get here? What turns a man into that?
MONTROSS: You got me, sir. I just sweep the floors.
DOCTOR: And a fine job you do, too.
MONTROSS: Thank you, sir.
ANNOUNCER: Well, that’s the end of our show. We
hope you've enjoyed it, and even if you didn't it's banging about in your head
now so you might as well live with it. The program was written by Garrett
Gilchrist, with a crew of drunken monkeys with typewriters. The special effects
were created by a tree, and catering by a fish named herman. It starred (list
final cast), who are all for sale or rent from our offices in New York. And
now, for my next trick ...
F/X RECORD SCRATCHING AT MACH 8