Poor boy doesn't know what hit him #2
Created | Updated Dec 23, 2003
Irritating Public Radio, Your Friends In The Air, Presents:
POOR BOY DOESN'T KNOW WHAT HIT HIM!
Starring:
Impossibly Pretty Girl with the unapproachable skirt: Dame Erica Perlswine!
Constable Oracle: Sir Edward Edwardson, Earl of Swotdown
Poor boy: Percy Bisque Cozy
Inescapable Air of Uncertainty: himself
Mounted Poodle: Skippy of Monmouth Farm's Odalesque Rhona, out of Irqudell Kennel's Runabout Prince, the IIIrd, three time winner of the yellow ribbon for holding it for an entire show!
Narrator: This evening, we find our motley cast mooning around the moors near Oxbridge, sitting on folding stools and perusing tea-stained handwritten scripts with an air of...
Poor Boy: Mum! I've got to do my homework!
Mum: So? What do you need from me?
Poor Boy: Well, I need you to help me.
Mum: Why? Aren't those overdressed moppets who went to school so they can go to school for the rest of their lives on the Queen's 50,000 quid a year enough help for you?
Poor Boy: But they're not here, Mum!
Mum: Are you saying you wish they were? Instead of me? You would have one of them educated folk messing about the kitchen and ironing and scrubbing and .... say, some o'them are men, isn't they?
Poor Boy: Um, yeth.
Mum: Are you saying you'd rather have a man around the house, instead of your poor Mum?
Poor Boy: Um, no.
Mum: Oh! Then you'd rather have a young lady, then! Anyone you particularly fancy? I can call her up right now and have her come down and...
Poor Boy: No, Mum!
Mum: Ah! Too shy to face her, eh? Mooning about wishfully thinking about some high-minded tart instead of thinking about your poor mum, is you?
Poor Boy: NO! Madame Bovary!
Mum: What did you call me?
Poor Boy: That's my homework!
Mum: Oh, and you thought you'd do a little research on your poor mum, is that it?
Poor Boy: No, Mum.
Mum: Thought you'd get it right from the Bovarie's mouth. Well, let me tell you something, young mister, a Bovary is something a young man does not need to be talking about. That's private, see? I don't care what they teach you down at the school, there's some things that need to be talked about among women and their doctors and you are nither a doctor nor a women, right?
Poor Boy: Ah... (closes mouth)
Mum: Yeah, 'ah' is right! Now, is that the only homework you have?
Poor Boy: I don't like to tell you.
Mum: Out with it!
Poor Boy: (tentatively) Oedipus Rex....
Mum: You're joking. You're funnin' with me. You're pulling me leg.
Who would want to do that? I mean one wreck is enough for a lifetime, never had a car, what would I know... But to eat it? Get on with you...
Narrator: Poor boy didn't know what hit him. Though, I guess he should by now.
Mum: Who's that voice? Is that one of them teacher chaps? Have you eaten?
Narrator: This has been Irritating Public Radio's presentation of "Poor Boy Doesn't Know What Hit Him". Good night.
Mum: Ooooooh! One of them showbiz charlies... Stay away from my son!
