The Dimwit Zone: Baker's Dozen of Death
Created | Updated Dec 23, 2003
Is This Show Really Necessary?
Life, death, birth, a cycle within cycles, and sometimes the tires are flat.
But never mind that. We, at Irritating Public Radio, Your Friends In The Air, try and try and try, and are generally regarded as very trying, by those who truly care.
Yet, once again, you should be asking yourself, in all candor, is this show really necessary? Shouldn't you be learning a second or a third language or polishing your first, so that it shines like a beacon among men, first and foremost among...uh, them over there.
Anyway, there is a place, a sign post used to be, before the mowers knocked it over into the rough grass, a turn in the road that leads to a strange subsector of reality, where even reason slows down to a crawl and leaves it's turn indicator on... You are sliding sideways... into... the Dimwit Zone!
You may scream now.
This evening our trip into the bark side is entitled "Are you my Mommy?"
Dr. Heatpad: My name is Dr. Emily Heatpad. I am the sycophant, assistant and and some time partner of the greatest underappreciated Insulting Detective of all time. His name is...
SFX: Fanfare from Grieg's "In The Left Hand Aisle Of The Chemist's", played by a trio of prepared kazoos in the hands of two charlads who've been hired for the day
Dr. Heatpad: Tattering musician's union, always gots to put their two notes in. As I was saying...
SFX: one note, a toot, if you will
Dr. Heatpad: Wait for it! Don't you read the script?
Tootist: Sorry. I'm so sorry. A bit nervous. First time, you see. Bob's sorry, too, arn't ya, Bob?
Bob: Yes. Sorry. Won't happen again.
Dr. Heatpad: All right, then. As I was saying...the greatest Insulting Detective of all time! His name is...
Tootist: Yes?
Dr. Heatpad: Oh, do shut up! I was pausing for dramatic effect.
Bob: Ah. Well, could you hurry it up? This particular note, here, y'know, it takes a certain tense bit o'pursing o' the libs. If I holdt it too longs, it hurts and me libs get cramped...
Dr. Heatpad: Are you getting paid by the word?
Tootist: Well, not as I know of. We ain't even supposed to have any lines... But, now that we duz, do we get scale rates?
Dr. Heatpad: I'll pay you out of my own pocket, if you'll just shut up.
Lockshim Phones: What is going on, here? I was waiting for my cue!
Dr. Heatpad: Sorry, about that, dear. These two lackwits have been messing up their cues.
Phones: What cues? The script says they only have to tootle upon kazoos! How is it possible to mess that up? Give me that tin toy and get out of here!
Tootist: I'll get you, and your little Doc, too!
SFX: flinging sound, metallic thump
Bob: Yeah, ditto! Here's mine, too!
SFX: Ditto
Phones: Ahh! owww! Such tinny things should not hurt so!
Dr. Heatpad: Here, let me bus it and make it better...mmm
Phones: Get away from me, woman! Behave! Put your lips to better use and take this kazoo! Now, tootle along with me and let's get this over with!
Dr. Heatpad: OOOh, when you say such things, I get all tingley...
Phones: Hush! Now, do your line again and let's get this thing on the road!
Dr. Heatpad: Yes, dear, if you say so...
My name is Dr. Emily Heatpad. I am the sycophant, assistant and and some time partner of the greatest underappreciated Insulting Detective of all time. His name is...
Phones: Now, blow!
SFX: Kazoo fanfare played by two soon-to-be out-of-work actors
Dr. Heatpad: Lockshim Phones!
Phones: Did someone call my name?
Dr. Heatpad: Yes, dear...
Phones: Now, cut that out! It's unprofessional!
Dr. Heatpad: You didn't say that in Rome, on the Sixth Hill, under the four hundred and twenty-seventh fountain, at 4:22 AM, slightly under the influence of a Belgian ale, when you were whistling Lord Byron to me in the front seat of a rented Citroen...
Phones: This is not the time to bring up Rome... and besides, it was a rented Peugeot! Get your story straight, if you're going to prattle about such maudlin stuff!
Dr. Heatpad: I love it when you yell at me. That light, that amber light that shines in your capped right incisor under certain conditions, it reminds me of that afternoon in Osaka, during the Olympics, when there was nothing on the TV, and you lay there, wearing Armani swim trunks and a velvet smoking halter and sang to me from Roger's and Sullivan's "Pimlico Wharf Rat Revue, 1927, inclusive" and I made daquiris with whatever I could find in the car boot...
Phones: This is ridiculous, are we going to do this script or not?
Dr. Heatpad: I bask in your nearness,
I swoon in your indifference,
I'm irradiated by your cologne,
I wish to swing in your sway forever,
unburnished, unashamed and....
Phones: ...Unhinged! Look, I have a small pony and you know it! I cannot make room in my life for a woman and a pony! The feed bill alone prohibits it!
Dr. Heatpad: I do not care!
Let us run away and join the circus,
and I will ride your pony,
wearing a translucent taffeta jumper and a ribbon in my teeth!
We could wow the crowned heads of Europe,
Make money by the bucket full,
and take your mum to Brighton on hols!
Phones: NO! No! No. No... Hmmm... That idea does have a bit of merit.
Plucky could use the exercise... And you could use the new dress... And mum, well, mum, could use... But what about the script?
Dr. Heatpad: Oh, bother and tatter the script! Whatever has it ever done for us?
Phones: Okay. You drive.
SFX: papers falling, footsteps, door opening, door closing
.........(dead air).......
SFX: Door opening rapidly, running, stumbling footstomps, mike noise
Narr: (breathless) Ah, sorry...uh... little romance blossoming...or a business arrangement...there. Anyway. This has been Irritating Public Radio, presenting the show that asks the question,"Is this show really necessary?", Adventures in the Dimwit Zone, today supposedly entitled "Are you my Mommy?" and postponed until we can find another couple of actors... In the meantime, until the next program, let's listen to some music....
SFX: Ray Ellington's Orchestra playing "Ain't Misbehavin'" in 11/32 time, twice, once forward and once backward.
