Peredhil Posted August 8, 2001 Report Posted August 8, 2001 Liza Minelli, dressed in high heels (with taps), fish-net nylons, and a sparkly black corset all topped with a top hat, tap dances in one door and out the other, singing all the while. "What good is sitting alone in your room? Come hear the music play. Life is a cabaret, old chum. Come to the cabaret. Put down the knitting, the book, and the broom. It's time for a holiday. Life is a cabaret, old chum. Come to the cabaret. Come taste the wine, come hear the band. Come blow your horn, start celebrating. Right this way, your table's waiting. What good's permitting some prophet of doom to wipe every smile away? I tell you, life is a cabaret, old chum. Come to the cabaret." As she clears the door, a Giant Foot descends from a cloud and squishs her. A disembodied voice states: What a senseless waste of life. Monty Python theme song begins. (Cabaret, from the play Cabaret, artist: Liza Minelli)
Peredhil Posted August 9, 2001 Author Report Posted August 9, 2001 Music pauses, Scene cut to: A man dress in a scuba wet-suit and flippers, wearing a tuxedo coat and top hat. Raising his monocular diving mask, he announces, "And now for something completely different -" As he takes a breath to continue, a large bucket of water is thrown against his face, drenching him and knocking him backward. Cut to animation of man falling off a cliff. A Large Puce Dragon catches him and carries him off to its nest. Many paintings and statues peek and peer from amidst the logs of which the nest is comprised. Cut to:
Ozymandias Posted August 10, 2001 Report Posted August 10, 2001 The interior of a post office. The lines are unbearably long, as usual, and the customers extremely aggravated, as usual. We cut in to the third teller from the left, who has just finished with her immediate person. Let's listen in: Teller: "Next?" A remarkably placid man steps up to the counter with a manila folder under his arm. Man: "Yes, how much for chicken mail?" Teller: ( surprised)"Chicken mail?" Man: "It's for my uncle Edward. He's got a farm out in Kansas." Teller: "I see. And you would like this letter sent by chicken mail?" Man: "Yes. I'd considered crow, but I'm not really sure how the crow flies from here to there, and I figured, 'Hey, if the bird's walking, it'd have a deuced easier time stopping to rest than if it had to land every time.' " Teller: ( uncertain)"Land. Of course..." Man: ( smiles slightly)"Yeah, and I don't exactly need it overnight or anything, y'know?" Teller: ( Smiles weakly; obviously looking for help from her co-workers, who don't notice)"Right... Ed? Ed, can you come here a minute?" Man: ( gazing off at nothing as the teller inches away from him)"And of course, pig is just too damn slow..." Abruptly, a serious-looking man steps directly in front of the camera. He looks to be in his early middle age, with already thinning blond hair. He is dressed in rumpled beige slacks, a white dress shirt, and a wine-red tie that is slightly askew. He wears a concerned expression. Man #2: "Ladies and Gentlemen, I'm the director of this sketch. I'm terribly sorry about all of this. You see, we promised Phil that he could have his own sketch about chickens, and this was the result. Again, I'm terribly sorry." In the background, we see Man #1 from the counter sprinting past to stage left. He has a manic grin on his face, and is letting his arms flap limply behind him like streamers as he runs. Two policemen jog after him. Man #1: "I'M THE BIRD! I'M THE BIRD!" *BEEEEEP* End of side one.
Peredhil Posted August 10, 2001 Author Report Posted August 10, 2001 There is a high pitched yelp from offcamera. The Policemen pause momentarily with expressions of nausea and unease on their faces, then grimly continue in pursuit. Man #2: Looking off camera "Oh dear, Phil's gotten his hands on a feather duster again." He sprints off in hot pursuit. Cut to: An Indian Maid stands on a slight pedestal. Her long black hair is bound back with an ivory filagree comb, the colored dot on her forehead indicates high cast. She wears the finest of gauzy cotton clothes. She gazes impassively off into the air in front of her. Before her kneels a fineboned Indian man, in the clothes of a tradesman, with hands outstretched toward the maiden. He is singing... Man: "My mind is back behind my eyes." Maid: "You sing like a wounded rhinocerous." Man: skootching on knees more to her front. "And there before me sits a butterfly" Maid: "Go bury yourself in an anthill." Man: "And as I watch she gently cries." Maid: "You make me cry!" Man: "Can there be anyone to pity her?" Maid: "If they heard your singing they would." Man: "How many places, have all of you seen?" Maid: wistfully "Only the inside of the Taj Mahal" Man: "If I were a King, she'd be my Queen." Maid: "You'd sing better dressed as a Queen." The man continues singing as a stout red-faced man dressed as a Canadian Lumberjack marches in from stage left and reaching centerstage, faces the camera. Tucking his thumbs behind his suspenders, he braces himself and begins to sing. "I've gots two legs from ma hips to the ground and, When I moves 'em they walks around and, When I lifts 'em they climbs the stairs and, When I shaves 'em they ain't gots hairs!" In the background the Indians have stopped their peculiar exchange and are staring in horror at the Lumberjack. Indian Man: "Hey! You can't just come in here and start singing!" The Maiden pulls a gun and shoots the Lumberjack before he can start the chorus. The Man leaps to his feet and swoons into her arms. Picking him up, she tenderly carries him off stage - stageright. cut to: (Indian Male song: King and Queen, from Moody Blues Caught Live + 5, artist: Moody Blues) (Lumberjack song verse from Monty Python's Flying Circus a long long time ago (I heard it on a pocket recorder in 1975)
Ozymandias Posted October 25, 2001 Report Posted October 25, 2001 A chicken wanders in, unsettlingly close to your nose. It stops stock still, cranes its neck to look you square in the eye, and comments, "Puuuuck, puuck, puuck, puuck." It waits a few seconds. "Puuck?" A few more seconds of silence pass, as you stare intently at one another. Finally it swivels its head round to examine you with the other eye. "Puckpuck puuuck, puuckpuckuck," it clucks as it extends a wing to you. Looking closely, you see a business card. Taking the offered card from it, you mumble a highly bemused "Thank you," and the chicken nods once, then wanders away, out of sight. You examine the card you were just given. The print is, of course, illegible chicken-scratch.
Jechum Posted October 26, 2001 Report Posted October 26, 2001 Jechum goes floating by... Pluck that chicken, pluck that chicken! Jechum Newbie, Mage of Shadows the Pen is Mightier than the Sword - Lore Master
The Portrait of Zool Posted October 26, 2001 Report Posted October 26, 2001 Out steps a rubber chicken with a mask on his rubber head and a bandana tied around his neck, hung over his back like a cape. Producing a small red bottle, he pries out the stopper with his stubby rubber wing tips and downs the contents. He strikes a heroic pose. *Cue music* When you find yourself in danger, When you're threatened by a stranger, When it looks like you will take a lickin', (puk, puk, puk, puk) There is someone waiting, Who will hurry up and rescue you, just Call for Super Chicken! (puk, ack!) Fred, if you're afraid you'll have to overlook it, Besides you knew the job was dangerous when you took it (puk, ack!) He will drink his super sauce And throw the bad guys for a loss And he will bring them in alive and kickin' (puk, puk, puk, puk) There is one thing you should learn When there is no one else to turn to Call for Super Chicken! (puk, puk, puk, puk) Caaaaall for Super Chicken! (puk, ACK!) The rubber chicken looks down at himself, and sees no change has occurred. He tries to jump into the air, but a sloshing sound comes from his bloated feet as his thin chicken ankles stretch and then snap him back down to the ground. He drags one foot up and shakes it to hear the sloshing sound again. Sloshing off stage left, his rubber skin glows a faint pinkish... ~Zool~ Elder of Elders, The Pen is Mightier than the Sword. Bard of Terra, Patron Saint of Aspiring Bards. Elder than dirt, more foolish than a jester, able to trip over the smallest logic in a single step. It's... Oh, you know.
Peredhil Posted May 28, 2003 Author Report Posted May 28, 2003 As the Rubber Chicken exits stage left, two men dressed in tweed suits enter stage right, deeply in conversation. "So you see, old bean, it simply won't do." "But that's how it is, and where ever you go, there you are." "I'll grant you that, but when you arrive, you might be able to adjust things such that you aren't, if you follow me." "Quite, dear chap, I follow you keenly, but I'm not certain whence we'll proceed." At this point, the pair stop center stage, and turn to a quarter facing, so that each is three quarters facing the viewer. The man on the right pulls a thick folded paper from his pocket. With the assistance of the other, they unfold it to a life-sized photograph of the Queen of England - put with Elton John's face in place of hers. "And there it is. The Queen's eyes ARE red in the center. Do you think it was the glasses, or the camera?" "Well, what I think it -" He raises a finger and pauses dramatically, I think it's time for something completely different!" A giant foot descends from the ceiling and squashes them as the curtains sweep in from both sides. Parting, the curtains reveal...
Canid Posted May 28, 2003 Report Posted May 28, 2003 (edited) ...an empty stage. Cameraman: What the heck? Footsteps approach and the camera is jolted down, then zoomed in on something small and fuzzy, no bigger than a mouse, but purple. It is leaning on a toothpick and wearing a top hat. Suddenly, it begins to dance: Fuzzy: If you're blue and you don't know, Where to go to, why don't you go, where fashion sits! The fuzzy swings the toothpick up in the air dramatically. Puttin' on the ritz! Different types go there with dates, Coat pants with stripes that cut away; coat perfect fits. The fuzzy taps the stage with its toothpick, which resultantly becomes lodged in the wood. The fuzzy squeaks angrily and rips it out along with a huge chunk of flooring which sails into the audience and knocks someone out. A huge foot comes down onto the fuzzy. The foot begins to shake. something behind it starts shredding the paper out of which it is made. When enough of it is torn away, the audience can see the purple fuzzy thing viciously clawing through the ankle. With a mechanical whirring, the decimated foot grinds its way back up into the air. The furious fuzzy rips out another piece of stage and hurls it skyward. It hits the mechanism raising the foot and the entire apparatus swings off-stage with a camera shaking crash. The fuzzy looks at the camera. It squeaks. The things launches itself with renewed vigour at the camera and after a brief chaotic rumble the screen goes black. Edited May 28, 2003 by Canid
Vincent Silver Posted May 30, 2003 Report Posted May 30, 2003 The screen jumps back alive, A man in full miltary General get-up stands with his hands behind his back, "I'm very sorry, but the previous skit was just to silly" Suddenly the purple fuzzy jumps out from stage left and attacks the general.
Peredhil Posted May 30, 2003 Author Report Posted May 30, 2003 Without missing a beat, the General bonks the fuzzy with his baton, and then they both face the audience and begin to sing. General Oh, I'm a most very modern General made for war Not to be confused with Officers from H.M.S. Pinafor It only in the peacetime that I have time which I abhor - For I'm a most very modern General as I said before. Purple Fuzzy - subtext translation accompanies music I'm a Purple Fuzzy one of many very mercenary Most consider us to be quite greedily contrary We're only limited in our desires by what we carry - Canid's delight - I'm a purple fuzzy (was he?) who's mercenary! The General stops, looks down at the fuzzy in distain. This is too silly for me. He walks off the stage. The fuzzy waves it's toothpick and begins doing a parody of the General with his baton... cut to:
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