Friday, October 3, 1997

An Immigrant's Story

Ancient, black and white footage. Montage of New York City, early 1900s. Steamers, the Statue of Liberty, overcranked shots of crowded streets, etc.

ANNOUNCER: (O.S.) In 1907, Nikos Kakakrapulous came to America with nothing but the clothes on his back and a dream.

A young NIKOS KAKAKRAPULOUS addresses the camera --

NIKOS: (scratchy recording, not in sync) In America, anything is possible!

ANNOUNCER: (O.S.) Nikos’ dream? Selling human feces.

NIKOS: Americans will buy anything!

ANNOUNCER: (O.S.) He quickly took to the streets with a humble pushcart.

EXT, NEW YORK CITY - DAY

More ancient footage.

NIKOS: Turds!

ANNOUNCER: (O.S.) No one responded, at first.

NIKOS: Turds for sale! Who will buy?

ANNOUNCER: (O.S.) He was, after all, selling steaming human feces.

NIKOS: Fresh! Hot! Turds!

Upbeat 1940s montage.

ANNOUNCER: (O.S.) Flash-forward to World War II. Nikos’ turds became a household word.

EISENHOWER: Those turds helped win the war!

ANNOUNCER: (O.S.) Today, Americans are buying shit in all 50 states. Nikos’ designer Turde Shoppes can be found in every mall across the nation. But he remains a humble, and deeply grateful, man.

INT, HOSPITAL ROOM - DAY

Ancient NIKOS in a hospital bed. The hand of an unseen JOURNALIST holds a microphone to his face. NIKOS speaks with hesitation but a trace of his youthful fire.

NIKOS: When I started … I was alone. Today, everything you buy is shit! Is nothing but shit! My turds have started something that can never be finished. I love this country! I love my turds!

ANNOUNCER: (O.S.) Nikos Kakakrapulous. A man who changed America. With a dream. And a pushcart full of turds.

Wednesday, August 27, 1997

Slob Dressed Man

(to the tune of ZZ Top's Sharp Dressed Man)

Stained shirt, full of holes
My BVDs ain't dirty -- don't wear none at all
Nose hairs, double chin
You smell me coming before I step in

The girls run screaming just as fast as they can
They so damn disgusted 'bout a slob dressed man


Ass crack, stupid hat
Can't see my own feet cause I'm extremely fat
Stinky sneakers, don't match
My gut's exposed, makes it easy to scratch

The girls run screaming just as fast as they can
They so damn disgusted 'bout a slob dressed man

Saturday, August 2, 1997

Titanic - the God-proof boat

The boardwalk at Brighton, England, early in the 20th century. An Eric Idle-esque huckster in a straw boater is making a pitch to the well-dressed passersby. A booth behind him says "White Star Lines." A cloth partly covers it.


HUCKSTER: Hello, good sir. Good evening, madam. Are you considering an ocean cruise? May I be so bold as to suggest a cruise on a White Star liner?

TEDDY, a knockabout cockney walks by. Too well-dressed.

TEDDY: No.

HUCKSTER: Ah. You can't afford it?

TEDDY: I can afford to have you killed, mate.

HUCKSTER: Then cruise to your heart's content and then have me killed!

TEDDY: No. I hate the stupid bloody ocean, all right? It's dangerous.

HUCKER: Ah. Fear of drowning and so forth. Safety concerns?

TEDDY nods sheepishly. A small crowd starts to gather.

HUCKSTER: Well. Let safety concern you no more! White Star Lines has just the boat for you! For all of you! It is nigh indestructible, ladies and gentlemen! The safest ever created! It is proof against the injuries of coral, typhoons, whirlpools, sudden swells and violent waves. A triumph of British engineering!

TEDDY: What about acts of God?

HUCKSTER: Excuse me?

TEDDY: You heard me. That bloody safe boat of yours. Will it protect me from the wrath of a vengeful God?

HUCKSTER: Why on earth should you that concern you?

TEDDY: I dunno. Hypothetically? Theft, adultery, the odd bit of murder. I've read the bloody Bible, mate. I know how He thinks. He's just waiting to get me out in the middle of the Ocean where He can kill me for my sins.

HUCKSTER: Ah. So the fear of divine retribution is a factor in your vacation plans?

TEDDY: Why take the risk, eh? I'm not bloody stupid. I know for a fact your bloody engineers can't make a God-proof boat.

HUCKSTER: What if I told you they can? Behold ladies and gentlemen!

He whips back the cloth, revealing a gleaming painting of ...

HUCKSTER: The HMS Titanic! The God-proof boat!

The flowing cursive caption reads "God Himself can't sink her."

The crowd goes oooh.

HUCKSTER: Yes, that's right, ladies and gentlemen. The HMS Titanic. Fully God-proof! That's the White Star Lines difference! "God Himself can't sink her." We dare to make this bold claim!

TEDDY: Can you back it up?

MAN: (OS) This man is an obvious shill!

Sound of beating and a scuffle.
(OS)

HUCKSTER: Yes! We're prepared to back it up. Here's our chief engineer, Nigel Throckmorton.

NIGEL walks up.

NIGEL: Hello. Well. (holds out model) This may look like a toy. It is not.

WOMAN: It's so cute!

NIGEL: As may be.

WOMAN: I want it.

NIGEL: You can't have it!

WOMAN: I want it for my bathtub!

NIGEL: No! It's my little boat! Well. As I saying. This is not a toy. It's a full-scale model of the real thing, identical to the original in all respects except for size. We subjected it to all manner of product testing. I believe you have film?

HUCKSTER: Yes, we do. Edison's marvel will make Nigel's assertions clear!

A screen at the White Star booth plays the film.


GRAINY BLACK AND WHITE FILM FOOTAGE - SILENT
A tank in a lab where scientists are attacking the model Titanic.

NIGEL: As you can see, we subjected this little boat to every manner of divine retribution imaginable. Plague, locusts, fire from heaven, etcetera. After hundreds of hours of product testing, it survived every Biblical challenge. On that basis it is scientifically safe to assert that "God himself can't sink her." Like it says on the poster.

HUCKSTER: Very good Nigel.

NIGEL: I will now answer relevant questions.

TEDDY raises his hand.

NIGEL: Yes?

TEDDY: God's omnipotent right?

NIGEL: Yeah. Theoretically.

TEDDY: Well. What if God chooses to violate his own physical laws. Create a miracle, as it were?

NIGEL: Well, he could, I suppose. That wouldn't be cricket, would it. Can I go?

HUCKSTER: Yes. Thank you, Nigel. (hands him a cookie) A round of applause for Nigel!

The audience applauds.

HUCKSTER: And there you have it! Step right up, ladies and gentlemen. Fear has made you shut-ins! Well, fear no more! Stop crouching in your mansions where God can't hurt you. The Titanic is fully God-proof! Your doom will come, ladies and gentlemen. God will punish you for your sins. But not on our boat! You can relax in the delightful luxurious ambiance knowing that God can't touch you. Experience the thrill of the open ocean! Purchase your tickets now!

They flock and feverishly buy tickets for the cruise.

NIGEL steps up. Whispers to the HUCKSTER.


NIGEL: Hey, whatever your name is. I just thought of something.

HUCKSTER: Not now.

NIGEL: Hubris.

HUCKSTER: This is really bad timing.

NIGEL: I forgot to test for hubris.

HUCKSTER: Teddy!

NIGEL: Overweening pride or something.

TEDDY appears.

HUCKSTER: Take Nigel out for a pint, eh?

TEDDY: Come on, mate.

TEDDY puts his arm around NIGEL's shoulder and takes him away.

HUCKSTER: Bloody engineers.

Sunday, July 6, 1997

Battle Hymn of the 40-something Wanker

(To the tune of "The Battle Hymn of the Republic")
He’s an aging adolescent who’s accepted life’s defeat.
Since he cannot beat the odds he is content to beat the meat.
He sits at home and yanks his bone and tells himself he’s neat.
A wanker wanking on.

Gloriosky what a wanker.
Gloriosky what a wanker.
Gloriosky what a wanker.
A wanker wanking on.

Ziggurats of crusty porno rise in stacks beside his bed.
Each night he reads and creams and dreams of Heather Locklear giving head.
Oh there’s shit to do and bills to pay; the cat it must be fed.
You wanker wanking on.

Gloriosky what a wanker.
Gloriosky what a wanker.
Gloriosky what a wanker.
A wanker wanking on.

Sunday, May 4, 1997

The Genetic Engineering Song

(to the tune of "Someone's in the Kitchen with Dinah")

Someone's in the kitchen with DNA
Someone's in the kitchen, I know ...
Someone's in the kitchen with DNA
Cooking up an embryo!
And singing ...

How far, how far should we go?
How far should we go ....
How far, how far should we go?
Cooking up an embryo!

Sunday, March 30, 1997

Heaven's Gate

(to the tune of Bob Dylan's 'Knockin' on Heaven's Door')

Mama, take my balls away from me
I don't need 'em anymore.
They just make me masturbate
Feel like I'm knockin' on Heaven's Gate.

Knock, knock, knockin' on Heaven's Gate
Knock, knock, knockin' on Heaven's Gate
Knock, knock, knockin' on Heaven's Gate
Knock, knock, knockin' on Heaven's Gate

Mama, the saucer's come for me
So says Marshall Applewhite
It's hiding behind the comet's tail
Drink this Kool Aid, I'll be there tonight.

Knock, knock, knockin' on Heaven's Gate
Knock, knock, knockin' on Heaven's Gate
Knock, knock, knockin' on Heaven's Gate
Knock, knock, knockin' on Heaven's Gate

Friday, February 21, 1997

Give until we stop hurting you

This program has been brought to you by the law firm of Shaft, Lynch, Burn, Twist and Fry. And the generous support of viewers like you.