... and that is how I met my wife.
Created | Updated Jun 26, 2004
From the 6Bth convesation at the Hootoo Atelier
http://www.bbc.co.uk/dna/h2g2/brunel/F38024?thread=426993
Once upon a time, there was a rather strange inevitably a block of cheese as it were, or is... prehaps was? was eaten. And the general consesus was the mouse rubbed his tum and let out a satisfying belch, which was heard all the way in Timbuktu. To the back of the crisper drawer, where a tenticle creeps. The caliph looked up, startled. "What was that?"
His faithful retainer, Abdulla, who was missing an arm and an eye said "Yet another far away noise. I don't know why we wore these pearls with our dresses. They don't match. We need to hire a professional flamingo dancer with lovely ankles to stamp out the fires that were started when the trees were allowed to rub up against each other lasciviously."
"Oh," replied the Caliph, with a note of doubt in his voice.
Suddenly a parsnip burst into song "The last time I climbed a tree," (sang the parsnip) "I was a carrot! Tra la la la la (sang the parsnip) daffa down dilly and rilly me daddyo" to the rat-a-tat of the flamenco dancer's heels, when suddenly there was a humongous crash which made the Caliph choke on his flamingo dancer's lovely ankles, which startled a tree into dropping his post-coital cigarette. The Caliph reckoned it was high time he metaphors, for he was dyslexic removed the flamingo as it was getting hot from the heat between two buns now and ready to eat which had reached scorching levels of gibberish. The Caliph tried to regain control by closing his eyes and placing his finger on the tip of his nose. There was a whooshing sound and suddenly the caliph found himself in Birmingham, where the maidens were more than willing to (he smelt curried spices) compete for a place in the Miss Pineapple of the Year Competition in which each contestant puts on a large foam pineapple suit and attempts to prevent the other contestants from making a fruit salad and immolating themselves in a syrup containing 151 rum and proceed to pub crawl their way out of the Midlands.
"Where is the Grand Vizier?" screamed the caliph, brushing pineapple chunks from his restored Ford Model A with the plush Blonde in the back seat. "Now, where is my right-hand pineapple corer?" he shouted grumpily, placing his left hand round the throat of the next SIMULPOST inadvertently on the business end of the corer which by this time was strangely warm and sticky with apple juice. The Caliph groused, "By the shifting sands of the Sahara, who were whispering "Gluminie to langeleik players budmash, the lot of them forcenery, measondue is where they will be rowhyn luck to them."
Luck is the one thing the Caliph had never had, he though, remembering back to the time he had been similarly transported. The flamenco dancer was just winding up for her finale, when she tripped and dropped her castanets and mantilla comb right down the night deposit box of the local nuclear plant. B4 looked aghast at the inscription on the comb. It read: "This comb will self-destruct within 3 minutes of being activated. To activate, immerse in the Baltic Sea."
Just the Wanda Ng raced into enter the Miss Pineapple contest dressed in fetching Bernaise sauce, grabbed the comb and seeing the castanets, hesitated a fraction too long, because just then the Bernaise sauce turned rancid. The Caliph screamed as Wanda Ng drew her skirts up to her knees in anticipation of running toward a giant blanc mange in the middle of the harem in which several odalisques were lasciviously disporting themselves.
At the same moment, on the other side of the Galaxy a hyper-intuitive super-intelligent jelly fish began to attempt a trans-galactic mind meld with a small furry creature here on earth named Musk'ra-ta Luv, whose sole function in life is to buy creatures the drink of their choice with a side of horrendous earth music. And in a saloon on a minor planet in some other galaxy, SIMULPOST Just then the Grand Vizier sneezed which caused strange ripples to appear in the other galaxy leading to an incredibly bad series of thunderstorms, which destroyed the SOS signal Wanda Ng had sent when the ripples had first appeared. The waves washed over Wanda, wending their way onward to the blanc-mange, where they were absorbed, tranforming the blancmange into a shocking piece of twisted metal the color of Wanda Ng's eyes -- dark red. The red was so dark, in fact, that it almost looked black, like the color of water in a deep cavern undisturbed by any motion.
She turned her unsettling gaze toward Sycorax, chasing the Cutty Sark with a shot glass belonging to the Southern Baptist prohibitionist committee. Wanda quipped, "A toast to every Crook and Nanny in the Guild of True Unknown."
"I founded that guild," mused the Caliph. "How in the world did the narcoleptics manage to keep up with the babysitting and purse snatching? Ah, well, there's always time to sit down with a nice cup of tea." The local tea however was in short supply because of the late spring frost that caught the flower blossom by surprise. "Yet," mused the Caliph, "the koala tea of Merci is never strained. Thus its taste resembles that of a warm glass of Guinness that has been left behind a potted plant for many months."
By a strange coincidence, the potted plant was a pineapple, yearning for it's tropical homeland and with an inexplicable craving for blanc-mange. However, there was none to be had, which was extremely unfortunate because the confection also served well as a disguise for pineapples.
In the meantime, Wanda Ng, disguised as a Costa Rican pineapple picker jumped into thered convertible, turned to Tim, the bookmaker's runner, and said "NI!"
Tim was shocked at the outburst and replied, "Egad! Someone hand me my gold clubs! I have a round at St. Andrews with Terry Jones and if I am late the Caliph will have to stand in for me, and you know how he hates to impersonate others besides himself!" Terry Jones was amusing himself while waiting by checking his biorhythms on his mobile phone. Hmm - a good day for riding bareback across a swamp carrying a silver on tray on which sat a large pot of marmalade and a small child. Tim, the Caliph, Terry, Wanda Ng all yelled "Tally Ho!" and blew their noses riding bareback across an oceanic trench.
That left only the red convertible to witness the horrendous display of public affection and incoherent plot. "We're being followed," remarked Tim, looking in the rearview mirror, which was decorated with pink fluffy feathers all around the edge and some Mardi Gras necklaces. These obscured the view of impending mirth of the site of a gorilla on a Vespa with Clint Eastwood seated behind him, holding a firm grip around the gorilla's waist. The gorilla gesticulated causing Clint to blush then swoon, falling to the ground in a pathetic attempt to attract women. Well it worked for Egon.
Meanwhile Tim nearly ran over a dog in a clown suit that, ironically, Marv really seamed to like./had just escaped from a man in a dog suit. the man was carrying a sign reading: "Get your Chickens Here." However, when Tim pulled in, he suddenly felt the urge for onion rings. It was a dark and stormy night, however, when Tim pulled in the time loop closed around his foot, giving him forever the nickname Foot Loop McBeth. His foot appeared in the heavens in 1341 A.D. freshly pedicured and painted a lovely colour of cerulean. However, one nail appeared to have fungus and in need of a good cry.
The Caliph went for a / Peasants working in the fields below fell to their knees in freshly tilled manure, but that didn't keep the s**t from hitting the fan. As it happens, the Caliph's great-great-great-great-great-grandfather was riding out from his castle at the time on a rusty bicycle with a buxom blond riding on the handlebars. The buxom blonde's name was Rhonda and she had a set of hooters that wouldn't quit. The bicycle horns in each hand just kept making noise and she called out to the Caliph, "Have you got any pineapples?"
"No" said the Caliph dejectedly, but I do have this. He reached into his pocket and produced a green banana. "Always a pleasure to meet a buxom blonde," he spouted. Then putting the banana back, he smiled and grabbed the buxom blonde's large heaving brown paper bag containing a tin of tobacco, port sausage casings and a tube of airplane glue. "Hey, that's my hair care kit," exclaimed buxom Rhonda, "leave it alone or the Curse of the Pineapple will be set upon your mother-in-law."
Meanwhile, the gorilla sped off into the night on his motorcycle, looking / It was at this moment that the Great Foot began to descend toward the panicking gorilla, who engaged his turbo-charged pineapple corer and pointed it towards the traffic cop hard on the tail of the Vespa. Seeing this, the traffic cop put out an APB for the gorilla on a Vespa (which was strange considering that the gorilla on the Vespa was directly in front of him). Perhaps the cop had confused the gorilla with Billy the Kid and would need the help of a posse to capture the gorilla, who happened to be a lovely shade of a tiffany lamp, which sounds odd but makes sense if you ignore all the rules of interior design. On cue, Laurence Llewelyn-Bowen added a touch of chartreuse paint and a lovely chaise lounge covered in pineapple chunks on cocktail sticks which begs the question "Does your pineapple lose it's flavour on the bedpost in the night?" which was the title of a very popular song by ABBA! Meanwhile, Tim extricated his foot from the time loop, turned to Wanda and said, "Care for an omelet?" To which Wanda replied, "I would love an omelet, just make sure you put cranberry sauce and Brie on it. The hard part, of course, was keeping the gorilla from sneezing which he always did when exposed to omelettes while driving a Vespa in 1341 A.D.
Now this is odd because in 1341 A.D. they did not have omelettes. They did have a sort of pached egg stirred in with porridge and small crusty pieces of bread. Haute cuisine aside, though, the Vespa's engine, a small block 350 4 bold main, with wooden parts on account of it was 1341 A.D., it was surprisingly fuel efficient, only requiring one bucket of goulash to go 100 miles. The goulash, being mainly used to feed the natives in exchange for pulling the Vespa any distance, was made with pineapple as a SIMULPOST The goulash was for the driver as it was an early methane engine and the gas produced by expelled goulash had been found to work in a pinch. But the Environmental Council of 1341 decreed that goulash should be made a controlled substance. It was felt that if the gas could truly be harvested, it could be used as a weapon to flatten the nearby town of Googly Moogly, which had a huge cache of bananas and was militantly anti-gorilla. Which wasn't surprising, given that 100 year ago a gorilla had eaten his way through 40 tons of bananas causing a huge methane explosion that eradicated the village of Beau Merde and wiping out that year's pineapple crop. SIMULPOST the regular little town of D'un Gill, whose populace would take their daily constitutional at weekly intervals, and regular breaks at random moments. They were known as the Caliph's Irregulars. Pineapple futures were soaring as a result of the explosion, and Wanda Ng, in an attempt to corner the market bought stock in the Bob Dole Pineapple and Viagra Company, whose futures were rising as a result of the disturbance in the methane layer. Meanwhile, the Caliph's Irregulars, aided by a sneezing gorilla formed by the Big Foot Observation Society, whose purpose was to test the well-known theory that bookmakers' runners have bigger than average feet (and) the moon ~is~ really made out of a delicate blue veined Stilton and the gorilla had always planned a trip there when the swallows were migrating to Stoke Poges. Back in Timbuktu, the Caliph was contemplating his navel which was pierced with a diamond shaped like a pineapple chunk. While the Caliph was navel-gazing, the Grand Vizier placed a hurried phone call to Wanda Ng, who was wearing a very pretty pair of chartreuse stilettos that matched her citrine and amethyst studded pince-nez frames. Wanda hung up on the Grand Vizier without speaking, turned off her cellphone, and leaned back against a large billboard advertising tropical fruit, including pineapples, bananas, and goulash. She idly wondered if gorillas actually liked bananas, or if they actually had a fondness for enchiladas. If gorillas liked enchiladas, couldn't get bananas, and drove Vespas, did that mean they were Gringorillas? The thought sat down and began to peel a banana. The Sultan convened a meeting of his security council to discuss whether they should form a pineapple cartel since the price of a barrel of pineapples had recently dropped. This price drop, of course, had created havoc for the pineapple farmers of Sasquatch who had noticed a correlation between blanc-mange futures and shares in Banana Republic. The Gringorilla pistolero's dark eyes gleamed beneath the brim of his sombrero as he placed a bet on wether the Caliph or the Grand Vizier would win at parcheesi. Wanda Ng, who preferred to play backgammon, filed a formal complaint with the Gaming Association of Montreal, Manitoba, Ontario, and Newfoundland. Her pleas went unheeded, though, as it was announced that the association was now staffed by gorillas. This led to the forming of a sister organization, the Primates Against Recreational Checkers and Excessive Exfoliation of Simians Institute, which sued for tea breaks.
Meanwhile, in a dark cave, deep beneath the Atelier, a flock of zombies played Final Fantasy X on their playstations whilst drinking copious amounts of Everclear and eating devil's food cake. Looking up, they saw a strange apparition flying by the seat of its pants. Ghoulvin Kleins, they were, though seemingly tattered because flying in deep caverns is tricky at best.
The Grand Vizier picked up a can of paint and a large canvas and prepared to do a still life with a tasteful arrangement of pineapple and white carnations but got distracted by his naval fluff, that was now floating out to sea aboard the H.M.S. Pinafore. Meanwhile, it was a dark and stormy night and Wanda Ng decided to take her Model T out for a spin around the base of Mt. Etna. Now, Mt. Etna is unique in that it is actually an inverted dormant volcano, resembling a very broad ice cream cone. Its lava flows down over the hand of ancient buried God named SIMULPOST come in a variety of three flavors - chocolate cinders, pistachio pyroclasts, or lemon fumaroles.
"Time to up the ante," quipped the Foot of God, and kicked it right-side up, thus negating a national landmark or lemon fumaroles. Understandably the National Landmark Trust were a little miffed at this and after the gorilla told the director to stick a pineapple up his tailpipe as a modified muffler for his Vespa. Wanda overtook the gorilla on the road heading away from Mt. Etna but soon realized she was being followed by a band of gorillas dressed in people suits who were wandering troubadors who only played music by the Zombies. The Zombies resented this and put on gorilla suits. They armed themselves with blanc-mange and banana splits. The Caliph, the very model of a modern Major General, decided to employ tactical nuclear weaponry to encourage the adoption of Cantonese orphans and Mandarin oranges. Each was trained to "push the button" when an emergency should arise, like zombies in gorilla suits with blanc-mange. A rare, but not unknown running out of jelly beans. A rare jelly bean, indeed. It was a lemon-chipotle pepper-mincemeant-curry-toffee flavoured from the Isle of Wight, home of the Bluebottle. By now Wanda Ng was late for her hair appointment at the village near Culver Point, so she phoned Bluebottle but got a recorded message that said, "Eccles has fallen in de water."
"Typical! shouted Wanda, as she threw a Cantonese orange at the gorilla's Vespa, which chose that moment to swerve onto the median and reverse directions.
"Stop!" shouted the Caliph, forgetting that he was watching events unfold on a trafficam. The trafficam was pointed 24-hours a day at the main artery of an ant nest, where there was a battle of sorts occurring. The red sorts were yelling at the blue sorts, the army ants were engaging the carpenter ants in a battle, while the harvester ants took the opportunity to, while everyone else was distracted by the fight to although the carpenter ants were making some lovely mission-style furniture help themselves to the carpenter ants' lovely mission-style furniture and their cache of formic acid. This stashes intended use was to break down pineapples and lower blood pressure. This wonder drug would have made a fortune for GSK, enabling them to supply more pens and Post-Its to deprived doctors. Coincidentally, the Caliph's blood pressure was driven quite high due to strange noises in Timbuktu. The Timbuktu economy was driven by the soaring price of earplugs, causing the Caliph to go back to the tried and true method of plugging his ears with pineapples during fireworks shows at Mt. Etna. Tim, having driven to Cape Horn with Rhonda the buxom blonde to economise and stick a couple of pineapples up her left nostril, which was abnormally large due to her no-doubt illegal habit of snorting pineapple. She had been in group therapy over pineapple addiction, when the gorilla rode past on his Vespa. The gorilla had been in rehab at Betty Ford for his problems with mainlining bananas, but that was nothing compared to Tim's mango smoking habit. The Caliph was a major player in the international mango smuggling trade and a member of the International Brotherhood of Fruit Smugglers and Longshoremen (Local 222). It was Wanda's intention to infiltrate to IBFS&L to uncover evidence of spoon bending and hood ornament making. Wanda Ng placed quick calls to Uri Geller and Chief Pontiac Firebird who both concentrated on a colony of carpenter ants in the astral plane. The response was intriguing, they all stood to attention and saluted. The carpenter ants were busy making spoon cases for Geller's mother when they proceeded to chew through the astral plane, causing it to collapse and raining sawdust all over the Grand Vizier's ouija board. The Grand Vizier saw this as a sign that he needed to change his socks and try to contact Harry Houdini through the Ouija board. Harry was an old friend from way back when they both crossed the Niagara Falls using a large blanc-mange that had been dipped in special formulation of mango and pineapple juice, which causes things to sink like a rock. It had been a fateful crossing, at least for Harry. Summoning a servant, the Grand Vizier sat down and put his fingers on his pressure points. The Grand Vizier was a famous acupuncturist in Beijing and often consulted Harry and Chairman Mao about various Marxist tendencies that he had been noticing in the Caliph's latest missives. This probably explains why instead of Houdini, the Ouija board connected with Trotsky, who seemed rather overwhelmed by the whole affair and was Leon Trotsky's cousin (Harry). Harry Trotsky used to train carpenter ants to stand to attention and salute, dance the dance of seven veils and serve up hot platters of fish and chips. Fish and chips, as everyone knows is Wanda's favorite. Everyone thought the dance was what caused the ants to salute but it was really the anticipation of the malt vinegar on the fish. So you can imagine their dismay when the vinegar suddenly had the smell of pineapples. It's the gorilla's fault said the Vespa repairman, while running his hands up Wanda Ng's shapely thigh. I'll buy you some fish and chips, sweetheart, but first you have to play me a tune on a ukulele called "Mr. Wu's a Window Cleaner Now." It is my favorite song you see, I first heard it while shopping for pineapples and durian fruit in Cadiz. However, I was distracted by a pair of pink kitten heeled shoes and even more distracted by the feet wearing the shoes. The ensuing trouble led to corns, blisters and the threat of early morning simulposts." However, it was serendipity from the start, when Wanda Ng's brother Shirley took a shine to the Vespa repairman and then polished the gorilla who giggled ash he was ticklish. Meanwhile, the pointer on the ouija board was spelling out "B E S U R E T O D R I N K Y O U R O V A L T I N E P S take the spoon out if you eyes hurt when drinking." By this time the Grand Vizier's hands were cramping, so he decided to take a walk around the family crypt in Bora Bora. The owner of the pink kitten heeled shows was Richard Nixon, an old friend of truth, democracy and never having to say you're sorry. Tim was sent off on another errand to locate some of that Old Janx Spirit for a super-califragilistic-expialidocious jolly good rub-down because the one who said it loud enough to really sound precocious was a Vespa-hating terrorist armed with some explosives. The sound was really quite atrocious and the bombs were something ferocious. At this point the ouija pointer flew across the room and a disembodied voice said, "Everybody sing! Um diddle liddle liddle um diddle aye" and then they broke into an AC/DC medley, starting with "Highway to Hell" which was the theme song of the Society for the Advancement of Zombies. The zombies, still deep beneath the atelier were just far too tired to even contemplate. Those not singing went off to see the bookmaker, who had fired Tim for wearing his flamenco outfit while he mowed the lawn. The bookmaker looked at the book smilie, and wondered what to do with the pineapples that were rotting in the warehouse down on the Bosphorus. Wanda, meanwhile, finally made it to the hairdressers and had her ling hair piled on top of her head in the shape of a pineapple, but the humidity were so bad that it fell and looked like a blanc-mange by the time she arrived at the palace of the Caliph in Timbuktu. It was surrounded by demonstrating gorillas holding signs that said "GUSTY WINDS MAY EXIST." Another proclaimed: "ELVIS LIVES." The Right Reverend Bebop Jimmy Walker of the International Church of Elvis the King gathered up the signs and gave them to Rhonda the Buxom Blonde to return to the Grand Vizier who stored them in a rift in the crisper drawer of the palace's CLI-IC fridge.
The rift connected to a castle in 1341 AD with a moat guarded by gorillas throwing pineapples with sling shots. However the Caliph did not like this arrangement and swapped the pineapples for nerf balls. Wanda Ng, the Blanc-Mange and Elvis lobbied the Caliph for the return of the pineapples in return for an autographed 8 x 10 glossy of Elvis in his blue suede shoes, but the Caliph had his sights set on another prize, he wouldn't settle for anything less than the Pineapple of Parangaomango, last seen 2000 years ago in an Elvis-themed diner on Beleguise 4, most might see this as very irregular because they don't know that Elvis is actually a small white mouse. That was one of Elvis' disguises for the times when he liked to pop round and see how many doughnuts Krispy Kreme had tucked away in its secret location. The secret location was actually a room in the harem section of the Caliph's magnificent multi-dimensional turban. The room had a fountain which was decorated with ornate carving of seven foot flying octopi. Each arm not only spouted water, but was also decorated with little silver dolphins. Unfortunately the fountain leaked, ruining the signs and causing the Caliph's turban to leak. The Grand Vizier attempted to stem the flow using strawberry seeds, a leftover blanc mange, and a cup of cold coffee. The coffee would have been hot if Wanda Ng hadn't absentmindedly forgotten to drink the coffee earlier when a giant, flying telekinetic goldfish completed its lego castle. Patting her new hairdo into place, Wanda picked up her cellphone and called the Caliph, to arrange dinner at the Savoy. Mopping his wet forehead, the Caliph was becoming impatient with the whole crew, especially the Vespa repairman who moonlighted as an exorcist. He specialised in poltergeists and door-to-door salesmen along with plastic pineapples. The Caliph suspected that Wanda Ng was possessed by the spirit of Carmen Miranda and that this explained the instability of the Baht on the International Monetary Exchange. The Baht was shored up by ingots of iron pyrites by accident.
"Does iron pyrites rust?" wondered the dog. Meanwhile, the Caliph was summoned to explain himself in front of the Deus Ex Machina which answered with "42." The thunderous voice, "42!", reverberated through the multiverse, causing several lifeforms to keel over from shock. The voice rolled across thesky like thunder over Timbuktu. Wanda, Tim, the Zombies, the gorilla, the Grand Vizier and the Caliph decided to set sail for the Isle of Wight where Harold and Esmirelda Wong lived in a pup tent on a rocky crag with a modest income from their Vespa repair service.
By now, Tim was rather concerned about the insurance premiums on the Vespa, the Vespa having recently had a major electrical problem which resulted in three fires in four days. The Grand Vizier shook his head in despair scattering drops of water all over the Grand Vizier, who sceeched in pain and began to gyrate wildly around the room, while singing 'The hills are alive, with the sound of chainsaws, tum tum te di dum di di dim te duuuummmm", and then the Ents took umbrage and insisted that the story get back to Wand Ng and the pineapples.
Sulking, the Caliph decided to visit his harem and inadvertently disappeared up his own turban. Meanwhile, the Vespa-driving ape drove up the turban after the Caliph and found himself in a portal leading to the CLI labs under the Atelier where Tim and Wanda were dissecting a pineapple inside which they discovered the Grand Vizier's recipe for sweet and sour pork. Wanda hugged Tim.
"We're rich!" she screamed, kissing his elbow. Tim immediately placed an order for a Maserati with customized, hand made, monogrammed tassels. The gorilla immediately sold his pineapple futures and used the proceeds to open a Starbucks. Meanwhile, back at the ranch the Caliph and Tim were busy making snow candles, though the lack of the main ingredient in that climate forced them to substitute blanc-mange, of course. Which meant that when the candles were lit they promptly went out again. For some reason, this was considered an advantage, and no more was heard about it. Blancmange comes in very handy when trying to wrap up a shaggy dog story to say nothing of a Vespa-riding gorilla story. The sequel, tentatively titled "Up Your Turban" will be coming to a theater in your neighborhood soon.
And now a word from our sponsor: Feeling a little unfresh? Try CONDOMINT! The prophylactic that's also a breath freshener - freshens your breath while you puff not-oregano and dance the Tango. And now a preview of our coming attractions! First, "I Was a Teenage Circus Performer" and "Like a Rolling Pineapple," starring Pee Wee Herman and the Grand Vizier, Shotsey Baker and Hernietta Fruitcup. Please make sure to put your garbage in the trash can and keep our theater free from triffids. Also be sure to attend next Saturday's Matinee, a science fiction double feature. Brad and Janet will smear themselves with blanc-mange and saffron infused linguini, which they will drape around their Vespas! Also opening soon, "Dreams of Pineapplegate and Elvis, starring Fabian and Margaret Thatcher. Which all goes to show, in the end, that love makes the world become more overcrowded and a small green furry lump of meat.
Hungry? You still have time to visit our snack bar before the next feature begins. We have a wide range of tasty sea slugs and beech logs. Tune in tomorrow for more news about the eight-toed cockerel and his harem of Cuban cigar-smoking canaries, who will sing the love them from "Night of the Living Dead". Speaking of the zombies "Babalou" in seven part harmony. Musical arrangement is by Frederick's of Hollywood, and costumes by the Sisters of Perpetual Abuse and Sister Mary of the Perpetual Whack and her favorite ruler. Which is why everyone kept complaining about the pins in the seams.
Meanwhile, Sister Mary and her jet-setting friend, Joan the Incontinent, will be hosting a talk show on the subject of "Transcontinental Incontinence." Meanwhile, the zombies will be featured in a film remake of a classic love story and epic tale of candy-making, "Casa Blancmange." Better hurry along to the snack bar for some luscious hand-dipped chocolate-covered cherries ... the feature will be starting soon! On your way out, please remember to drop your trash in the receptacle provided and last one out to switch the lights off.
::The curtains close and the orchestra music swells::
::The dropped popcorn crunches under foot::
::A Very LARGE Induhvidual makes his way between the aisles and rows of seats, sweeping up the detritus and collecting the remainders::
::Steps on smoe chewing gum someone spit on the floor::
::A cockroach steps out of a crevice and looks around, then turns and whistles the all clear. After a moment the lights dim, the front door closes and the key can be heard turning in the lock::
::A Very LARGE Induhvidual approaches FG, carrying something in his suitcase-sized hands::
::The marquee goes dark and the crowd disperses::
::At the whistle, thousands of cockroaches pour out of cracks and holes, each carrying a small St. Georges flag, and begin to start fights in very small bars::
::The bars are run by centipedes, who are good at filling lots of glasses at once::
::They are also pretty good at draining them too::
THE END
http://www.bbc.co.uk/dna/h2g2/brunel/F38024?thread=426993
Once upon a time, there was a rather strange inevitably a block of cheese as it were, or is... prehaps was? was eaten. And the general consesus was the mouse rubbed his tum and let out a satisfying belch, which was heard all the way in Timbuktu. To the back of the crisper drawer, where a tenticle creeps. The caliph looked up, startled. "What was that?"
His faithful retainer, Abdulla, who was missing an arm and an eye said "Yet another far away noise. I don't know why we wore these pearls with our dresses. They don't match. We need to hire a professional flamingo dancer with lovely ankles to stamp out the fires that were started when the trees were allowed to rub up against each other lasciviously."
"Oh," replied the Caliph, with a note of doubt in his voice.
Suddenly a parsnip burst into song "The last time I climbed a tree," (sang the parsnip) "I was a carrot! Tra la la la la (sang the parsnip) daffa down dilly and rilly me daddyo" to the rat-a-tat of the flamenco dancer's heels, when suddenly there was a humongous crash which made the Caliph choke on his flamingo dancer's lovely ankles, which startled a tree into dropping his post-coital cigarette. The Caliph reckoned it was high time he metaphors, for he was dyslexic removed the flamingo as it was getting hot from the heat between two buns now and ready to eat which had reached scorching levels of gibberish. The Caliph tried to regain control by closing his eyes and placing his finger on the tip of his nose. There was a whooshing sound and suddenly the caliph found himself in Birmingham, where the maidens were more than willing to (he smelt curried spices) compete for a place in the Miss Pineapple of the Year Competition in which each contestant puts on a large foam pineapple suit and attempts to prevent the other contestants from making a fruit salad and immolating themselves in a syrup containing 151 rum and proceed to pub crawl their way out of the Midlands.
"Where is the Grand Vizier?" screamed the caliph, brushing pineapple chunks from his restored Ford Model A with the plush Blonde in the back seat. "Now, where is my right-hand pineapple corer?" he shouted grumpily, placing his left hand round the throat of the next SIMULPOST inadvertently on the business end of the corer which by this time was strangely warm and sticky with apple juice. The Caliph groused, "By the shifting sands of the Sahara, who were whispering "Gluminie to langeleik players budmash, the lot of them forcenery, measondue is where they will be rowhyn luck to them."
Luck is the one thing the Caliph had never had, he though, remembering back to the time he had been similarly transported. The flamenco dancer was just winding up for her finale, when she tripped and dropped her castanets and mantilla comb right down the night deposit box of the local nuclear plant. B4 looked aghast at the inscription on the comb. It read: "This comb will self-destruct within 3 minutes of being activated. To activate, immerse in the Baltic Sea."
Just the Wanda Ng raced into enter the Miss Pineapple contest dressed in fetching Bernaise sauce, grabbed the comb and seeing the castanets, hesitated a fraction too long, because just then the Bernaise sauce turned rancid. The Caliph screamed as Wanda Ng drew her skirts up to her knees in anticipation of running toward a giant blanc mange in the middle of the harem in which several odalisques were lasciviously disporting themselves.
At the same moment, on the other side of the Galaxy a hyper-intuitive super-intelligent jelly fish began to attempt a trans-galactic mind meld with a small furry creature here on earth named Musk'ra-ta Luv, whose sole function in life is to buy creatures the drink of their choice with a side of horrendous earth music. And in a saloon on a minor planet in some other galaxy, SIMULPOST Just then the Grand Vizier sneezed which caused strange ripples to appear in the other galaxy leading to an incredibly bad series of thunderstorms, which destroyed the SOS signal Wanda Ng had sent when the ripples had first appeared. The waves washed over Wanda, wending their way onward to the blanc-mange, where they were absorbed, tranforming the blancmange into a shocking piece of twisted metal the color of Wanda Ng's eyes -- dark red. The red was so dark, in fact, that it almost looked black, like the color of water in a deep cavern undisturbed by any motion.
She turned her unsettling gaze toward Sycorax, chasing the Cutty Sark with a shot glass belonging to the Southern Baptist prohibitionist committee. Wanda quipped, "A toast to every Crook and Nanny in the Guild of True Unknown."
"I founded that guild," mused the Caliph. "How in the world did the narcoleptics manage to keep up with the babysitting and purse snatching? Ah, well, there's always time to sit down with a nice cup of tea." The local tea however was in short supply because of the late spring frost that caught the flower blossom by surprise. "Yet," mused the Caliph, "the koala tea of Merci is never strained. Thus its taste resembles that of a warm glass of Guinness that has been left behind a potted plant for many months."
By a strange coincidence, the potted plant was a pineapple, yearning for it's tropical homeland and with an inexplicable craving for blanc-mange. However, there was none to be had, which was extremely unfortunate because the confection also served well as a disguise for pineapples.
In the meantime, Wanda Ng, disguised as a Costa Rican pineapple picker jumped into thered convertible, turned to Tim, the bookmaker's runner, and said "NI!"
Tim was shocked at the outburst and replied, "Egad! Someone hand me my gold clubs! I have a round at St. Andrews with Terry Jones and if I am late the Caliph will have to stand in for me, and you know how he hates to impersonate others besides himself!" Terry Jones was amusing himself while waiting by checking his biorhythms on his mobile phone. Hmm - a good day for riding bareback across a swamp carrying a silver on tray on which sat a large pot of marmalade and a small child. Tim, the Caliph, Terry, Wanda Ng all yelled "Tally Ho!" and blew their noses riding bareback across an oceanic trench.
That left only the red convertible to witness the horrendous display of public affection and incoherent plot. "We're being followed," remarked Tim, looking in the rearview mirror, which was decorated with pink fluffy feathers all around the edge and some Mardi Gras necklaces. These obscured the view of impending mirth of the site of a gorilla on a Vespa with Clint Eastwood seated behind him, holding a firm grip around the gorilla's waist. The gorilla gesticulated causing Clint to blush then swoon, falling to the ground in a pathetic attempt to attract women. Well it worked for Egon.
Meanwhile Tim nearly ran over a dog in a clown suit that, ironically, Marv really seamed to like./had just escaped from a man in a dog suit. the man was carrying a sign reading: "Get your Chickens Here." However, when Tim pulled in, he suddenly felt the urge for onion rings. It was a dark and stormy night, however, when Tim pulled in the time loop closed around his foot, giving him forever the nickname Foot Loop McBeth. His foot appeared in the heavens in 1341 A.D. freshly pedicured and painted a lovely colour of cerulean. However, one nail appeared to have fungus and in need of a good cry.
The Caliph went for a / Peasants working in the fields below fell to their knees in freshly tilled manure, but that didn't keep the s**t from hitting the fan. As it happens, the Caliph's great-great-great-great-great-grandfather was riding out from his castle at the time on a rusty bicycle with a buxom blond riding on the handlebars. The buxom blonde's name was Rhonda and she had a set of hooters that wouldn't quit. The bicycle horns in each hand just kept making noise and she called out to the Caliph, "Have you got any pineapples?"
"No" said the Caliph dejectedly, but I do have this. He reached into his pocket and produced a green banana. "Always a pleasure to meet a buxom blonde," he spouted. Then putting the banana back, he smiled and grabbed the buxom blonde's large heaving brown paper bag containing a tin of tobacco, port sausage casings and a tube of airplane glue. "Hey, that's my hair care kit," exclaimed buxom Rhonda, "leave it alone or the Curse of the Pineapple will be set upon your mother-in-law."
Meanwhile, the gorilla sped off into the night on his motorcycle, looking / It was at this moment that the Great Foot began to descend toward the panicking gorilla, who engaged his turbo-charged pineapple corer and pointed it towards the traffic cop hard on the tail of the Vespa. Seeing this, the traffic cop put out an APB for the gorilla on a Vespa (which was strange considering that the gorilla on the Vespa was directly in front of him). Perhaps the cop had confused the gorilla with Billy the Kid and would need the help of a posse to capture the gorilla, who happened to be a lovely shade of a tiffany lamp, which sounds odd but makes sense if you ignore all the rules of interior design. On cue, Laurence Llewelyn-Bowen added a touch of chartreuse paint and a lovely chaise lounge covered in pineapple chunks on cocktail sticks which begs the question "Does your pineapple lose it's flavour on the bedpost in the night?" which was the title of a very popular song by ABBA! Meanwhile, Tim extricated his foot from the time loop, turned to Wanda and said, "Care for an omelet?" To which Wanda replied, "I would love an omelet, just make sure you put cranberry sauce and Brie on it. The hard part, of course, was keeping the gorilla from sneezing which he always did when exposed to omelettes while driving a Vespa in 1341 A.D.
Now this is odd because in 1341 A.D. they did not have omelettes. They did have a sort of pached egg stirred in with porridge and small crusty pieces of bread. Haute cuisine aside, though, the Vespa's engine, a small block 350 4 bold main, with wooden parts on account of it was 1341 A.D., it was surprisingly fuel efficient, only requiring one bucket of goulash to go 100 miles. The goulash, being mainly used to feed the natives in exchange for pulling the Vespa any distance, was made with pineapple as a SIMULPOST The goulash was for the driver as it was an early methane engine and the gas produced by expelled goulash had been found to work in a pinch. But the Environmental Council of 1341 decreed that goulash should be made a controlled substance. It was felt that if the gas could truly be harvested, it could be used as a weapon to flatten the nearby town of Googly Moogly, which had a huge cache of bananas and was militantly anti-gorilla. Which wasn't surprising, given that 100 year ago a gorilla had eaten his way through 40 tons of bananas causing a huge methane explosion that eradicated the village of Beau Merde and wiping out that year's pineapple crop. SIMULPOST the regular little town of D'un Gill, whose populace would take their daily constitutional at weekly intervals, and regular breaks at random moments. They were known as the Caliph's Irregulars. Pineapple futures were soaring as a result of the explosion, and Wanda Ng, in an attempt to corner the market bought stock in the Bob Dole Pineapple and Viagra Company, whose futures were rising as a result of the disturbance in the methane layer. Meanwhile, the Caliph's Irregulars, aided by a sneezing gorilla formed by the Big Foot Observation Society, whose purpose was to test the well-known theory that bookmakers' runners have bigger than average feet (and) the moon ~is~ really made out of a delicate blue veined Stilton and the gorilla had always planned a trip there when the swallows were migrating to Stoke Poges. Back in Timbuktu, the Caliph was contemplating his navel which was pierced with a diamond shaped like a pineapple chunk. While the Caliph was navel-gazing, the Grand Vizier placed a hurried phone call to Wanda Ng, who was wearing a very pretty pair of chartreuse stilettos that matched her citrine and amethyst studded pince-nez frames. Wanda hung up on the Grand Vizier without speaking, turned off her cellphone, and leaned back against a large billboard advertising tropical fruit, including pineapples, bananas, and goulash. She idly wondered if gorillas actually liked bananas, or if they actually had a fondness for enchiladas. If gorillas liked enchiladas, couldn't get bananas, and drove Vespas, did that mean they were Gringorillas? The thought sat down and began to peel a banana. The Sultan convened a meeting of his security council to discuss whether they should form a pineapple cartel since the price of a barrel of pineapples had recently dropped. This price drop, of course, had created havoc for the pineapple farmers of Sasquatch who had noticed a correlation between blanc-mange futures and shares in Banana Republic. The Gringorilla pistolero's dark eyes gleamed beneath the brim of his sombrero as he placed a bet on wether the Caliph or the Grand Vizier would win at parcheesi. Wanda Ng, who preferred to play backgammon, filed a formal complaint with the Gaming Association of Montreal, Manitoba, Ontario, and Newfoundland. Her pleas went unheeded, though, as it was announced that the association was now staffed by gorillas. This led to the forming of a sister organization, the Primates Against Recreational Checkers and Excessive Exfoliation of Simians Institute, which sued for tea breaks.
Meanwhile, in a dark cave, deep beneath the Atelier, a flock of zombies played Final Fantasy X on their playstations whilst drinking copious amounts of Everclear and eating devil's food cake. Looking up, they saw a strange apparition flying by the seat of its pants. Ghoulvin Kleins, they were, though seemingly tattered because flying in deep caverns is tricky at best.
The Grand Vizier picked up a can of paint and a large canvas and prepared to do a still life with a tasteful arrangement of pineapple and white carnations but got distracted by his naval fluff, that was now floating out to sea aboard the H.M.S. Pinafore. Meanwhile, it was a dark and stormy night and Wanda Ng decided to take her Model T out for a spin around the base of Mt. Etna. Now, Mt. Etna is unique in that it is actually an inverted dormant volcano, resembling a very broad ice cream cone. Its lava flows down over the hand of ancient buried God named SIMULPOST come in a variety of three flavors - chocolate cinders, pistachio pyroclasts, or lemon fumaroles.
"Time to up the ante," quipped the Foot of God, and kicked it right-side up, thus negating a national landmark or lemon fumaroles. Understandably the National Landmark Trust were a little miffed at this and after the gorilla told the director to stick a pineapple up his tailpipe as a modified muffler for his Vespa. Wanda overtook the gorilla on the road heading away from Mt. Etna but soon realized she was being followed by a band of gorillas dressed in people suits who were wandering troubadors who only played music by the Zombies. The Zombies resented this and put on gorilla suits. They armed themselves with blanc-mange and banana splits. The Caliph, the very model of a modern Major General, decided to employ tactical nuclear weaponry to encourage the adoption of Cantonese orphans and Mandarin oranges. Each was trained to "push the button" when an emergency should arise, like zombies in gorilla suits with blanc-mange. A rare, but not unknown running out of jelly beans. A rare jelly bean, indeed. It was a lemon-chipotle pepper-mincemeant-curry-toffee flavoured from the Isle of Wight, home of the Bluebottle. By now Wanda Ng was late for her hair appointment at the village near Culver Point, so she phoned Bluebottle but got a recorded message that said, "Eccles has fallen in de water."
"Typical! shouted Wanda, as she threw a Cantonese orange at the gorilla's Vespa, which chose that moment to swerve onto the median and reverse directions.
"Stop!" shouted the Caliph, forgetting that he was watching events unfold on a trafficam. The trafficam was pointed 24-hours a day at the main artery of an ant nest, where there was a battle of sorts occurring. The red sorts were yelling at the blue sorts, the army ants were engaging the carpenter ants in a battle, while the harvester ants took the opportunity to, while everyone else was distracted by the fight to although the carpenter ants were making some lovely mission-style furniture help themselves to the carpenter ants' lovely mission-style furniture and their cache of formic acid. This stashes intended use was to break down pineapples and lower blood pressure. This wonder drug would have made a fortune for GSK, enabling them to supply more pens and Post-Its to deprived doctors. Coincidentally, the Caliph's blood pressure was driven quite high due to strange noises in Timbuktu. The Timbuktu economy was driven by the soaring price of earplugs, causing the Caliph to go back to the tried and true method of plugging his ears with pineapples during fireworks shows at Mt. Etna. Tim, having driven to Cape Horn with Rhonda the buxom blonde to economise and stick a couple of pineapples up her left nostril, which was abnormally large due to her no-doubt illegal habit of snorting pineapple. She had been in group therapy over pineapple addiction, when the gorilla rode past on his Vespa. The gorilla had been in rehab at Betty Ford for his problems with mainlining bananas, but that was nothing compared to Tim's mango smoking habit. The Caliph was a major player in the international mango smuggling trade and a member of the International Brotherhood of Fruit Smugglers and Longshoremen (Local 222). It was Wanda's intention to infiltrate to IBFS&L to uncover evidence of spoon bending and hood ornament making. Wanda Ng placed quick calls to Uri Geller and Chief Pontiac Firebird who both concentrated on a colony of carpenter ants in the astral plane. The response was intriguing, they all stood to attention and saluted. The carpenter ants were busy making spoon cases for Geller's mother when they proceeded to chew through the astral plane, causing it to collapse and raining sawdust all over the Grand Vizier's ouija board. The Grand Vizier saw this as a sign that he needed to change his socks and try to contact Harry Houdini through the Ouija board. Harry was an old friend from way back when they both crossed the Niagara Falls using a large blanc-mange that had been dipped in special formulation of mango and pineapple juice, which causes things to sink like a rock. It had been a fateful crossing, at least for Harry. Summoning a servant, the Grand Vizier sat down and put his fingers on his pressure points. The Grand Vizier was a famous acupuncturist in Beijing and often consulted Harry and Chairman Mao about various Marxist tendencies that he had been noticing in the Caliph's latest missives. This probably explains why instead of Houdini, the Ouija board connected with Trotsky, who seemed rather overwhelmed by the whole affair and was Leon Trotsky's cousin (Harry). Harry Trotsky used to train carpenter ants to stand to attention and salute, dance the dance of seven veils and serve up hot platters of fish and chips. Fish and chips, as everyone knows is Wanda's favorite. Everyone thought the dance was what caused the ants to salute but it was really the anticipation of the malt vinegar on the fish. So you can imagine their dismay when the vinegar suddenly had the smell of pineapples. It's the gorilla's fault said the Vespa repairman, while running his hands up Wanda Ng's shapely thigh. I'll buy you some fish and chips, sweetheart, but first you have to play me a tune on a ukulele called "Mr. Wu's a Window Cleaner Now." It is my favorite song you see, I first heard it while shopping for pineapples and durian fruit in Cadiz. However, I was distracted by a pair of pink kitten heeled shoes and even more distracted by the feet wearing the shoes. The ensuing trouble led to corns, blisters and the threat of early morning simulposts." However, it was serendipity from the start, when Wanda Ng's brother Shirley took a shine to the Vespa repairman and then polished the gorilla who giggled ash he was ticklish. Meanwhile, the pointer on the ouija board was spelling out "B E S U R E T O D R I N K Y O U R O V A L T I N E P S take the spoon out if you eyes hurt when drinking." By this time the Grand Vizier's hands were cramping, so he decided to take a walk around the family crypt in Bora Bora. The owner of the pink kitten heeled shows was Richard Nixon, an old friend of truth, democracy and never having to say you're sorry. Tim was sent off on another errand to locate some of that Old Janx Spirit for a super-califragilistic-expialidocious jolly good rub-down because the one who said it loud enough to really sound precocious was a Vespa-hating terrorist armed with some explosives. The sound was really quite atrocious and the bombs were something ferocious. At this point the ouija pointer flew across the room and a disembodied voice said, "Everybody sing! Um diddle liddle liddle um diddle aye" and then they broke into an AC/DC medley, starting with "Highway to Hell" which was the theme song of the Society for the Advancement of Zombies. The zombies, still deep beneath the atelier were just far too tired to even contemplate. Those not singing went off to see the bookmaker, who had fired Tim for wearing his flamenco outfit while he mowed the lawn. The bookmaker looked at the book smilie, and wondered what to do with the pineapples that were rotting in the warehouse down on the Bosphorus. Wanda, meanwhile, finally made it to the hairdressers and had her ling hair piled on top of her head in the shape of a pineapple, but the humidity were so bad that it fell and looked like a blanc-mange by the time she arrived at the palace of the Caliph in Timbuktu. It was surrounded by demonstrating gorillas holding signs that said "GUSTY WINDS MAY EXIST." Another proclaimed: "ELVIS LIVES." The Right Reverend Bebop Jimmy Walker of the International Church of Elvis the King gathered up the signs and gave them to Rhonda the Buxom Blonde to return to the Grand Vizier who stored them in a rift in the crisper drawer of the palace's CLI-IC fridge.
The rift connected to a castle in 1341 AD with a moat guarded by gorillas throwing pineapples with sling shots. However the Caliph did not like this arrangement and swapped the pineapples for nerf balls. Wanda Ng, the Blanc-Mange and Elvis lobbied the Caliph for the return of the pineapples in return for an autographed 8 x 10 glossy of Elvis in his blue suede shoes, but the Caliph had his sights set on another prize, he wouldn't settle for anything less than the Pineapple of Parangaomango, last seen 2000 years ago in an Elvis-themed diner on Beleguise 4, most might see this as very irregular because they don't know that Elvis is actually a small white mouse. That was one of Elvis' disguises for the times when he liked to pop round and see how many doughnuts Krispy Kreme had tucked away in its secret location. The secret location was actually a room in the harem section of the Caliph's magnificent multi-dimensional turban. The room had a fountain which was decorated with ornate carving of seven foot flying octopi. Each arm not only spouted water, but was also decorated with little silver dolphins. Unfortunately the fountain leaked, ruining the signs and causing the Caliph's turban to leak. The Grand Vizier attempted to stem the flow using strawberry seeds, a leftover blanc mange, and a cup of cold coffee. The coffee would have been hot if Wanda Ng hadn't absentmindedly forgotten to drink the coffee earlier when a giant, flying telekinetic goldfish completed its lego castle. Patting her new hairdo into place, Wanda picked up her cellphone and called the Caliph, to arrange dinner at the Savoy. Mopping his wet forehead, the Caliph was becoming impatient with the whole crew, especially the Vespa repairman who moonlighted as an exorcist. He specialised in poltergeists and door-to-door salesmen along with plastic pineapples. The Caliph suspected that Wanda Ng was possessed by the spirit of Carmen Miranda and that this explained the instability of the Baht on the International Monetary Exchange. The Baht was shored up by ingots of iron pyrites by accident.
"Does iron pyrites rust?" wondered the dog. Meanwhile, the Caliph was summoned to explain himself in front of the Deus Ex Machina which answered with "42." The thunderous voice, "42!", reverberated through the multiverse, causing several lifeforms to keel over from shock. The voice rolled across thesky like thunder over Timbuktu. Wanda, Tim, the Zombies, the gorilla, the Grand Vizier and the Caliph decided to set sail for the Isle of Wight where Harold and Esmirelda Wong lived in a pup tent on a rocky crag with a modest income from their Vespa repair service.
By now, Tim was rather concerned about the insurance premiums on the Vespa, the Vespa having recently had a major electrical problem which resulted in three fires in four days. The Grand Vizier shook his head in despair scattering drops of water all over the Grand Vizier, who sceeched in pain and began to gyrate wildly around the room, while singing 'The hills are alive, with the sound of chainsaws, tum tum te di dum di di dim te duuuummmm", and then the Ents took umbrage and insisted that the story get back to Wand Ng and the pineapples.
Sulking, the Caliph decided to visit his harem and inadvertently disappeared up his own turban. Meanwhile, the Vespa-driving ape drove up the turban after the Caliph and found himself in a portal leading to the CLI labs under the Atelier where Tim and Wanda were dissecting a pineapple inside which they discovered the Grand Vizier's recipe for sweet and sour pork. Wanda hugged Tim.
"We're rich!" she screamed, kissing his elbow. Tim immediately placed an order for a Maserati with customized, hand made, monogrammed tassels. The gorilla immediately sold his pineapple futures and used the proceeds to open a Starbucks. Meanwhile, back at the ranch the Caliph and Tim were busy making snow candles, though the lack of the main ingredient in that climate forced them to substitute blanc-mange, of course. Which meant that when the candles were lit they promptly went out again. For some reason, this was considered an advantage, and no more was heard about it. Blancmange comes in very handy when trying to wrap up a shaggy dog story to say nothing of a Vespa-riding gorilla story. The sequel, tentatively titled "Up Your Turban" will be coming to a theater in your neighborhood soon.
And now a word from our sponsor: Feeling a little unfresh? Try CONDOMINT! The prophylactic that's also a breath freshener - freshens your breath while you puff not-oregano and dance the Tango. And now a preview of our coming attractions! First, "I Was a Teenage Circus Performer" and "Like a Rolling Pineapple," starring Pee Wee Herman and the Grand Vizier, Shotsey Baker and Hernietta Fruitcup. Please make sure to put your garbage in the trash can and keep our theater free from triffids. Also be sure to attend next Saturday's Matinee, a science fiction double feature. Brad and Janet will smear themselves with blanc-mange and saffron infused linguini, which they will drape around their Vespas! Also opening soon, "Dreams of Pineapplegate and Elvis, starring Fabian and Margaret Thatcher. Which all goes to show, in the end, that love makes the world become more overcrowded and a small green furry lump of meat.
Hungry? You still have time to visit our snack bar before the next feature begins. We have a wide range of tasty sea slugs and beech logs. Tune in tomorrow for more news about the eight-toed cockerel and his harem of Cuban cigar-smoking canaries, who will sing the love them from "Night of the Living Dead". Speaking of the zombies "Babalou" in seven part harmony. Musical arrangement is by Frederick's of Hollywood, and costumes by the Sisters of Perpetual Abuse and Sister Mary of the Perpetual Whack and her favorite ruler. Which is why everyone kept complaining about the pins in the seams.
Meanwhile, Sister Mary and her jet-setting friend, Joan the Incontinent, will be hosting a talk show on the subject of "Transcontinental Incontinence." Meanwhile, the zombies will be featured in a film remake of a classic love story and epic tale of candy-making, "Casa Blancmange." Better hurry along to the snack bar for some luscious hand-dipped chocolate-covered cherries ... the feature will be starting soon! On your way out, please remember to drop your trash in the receptacle provided and last one out to switch the lights off.
::The curtains close and the orchestra music swells::
::The dropped popcorn crunches under foot::
::A Very LARGE Induhvidual makes his way between the aisles and rows of seats, sweeping up the detritus and collecting the remainders::
::Steps on smoe chewing gum someone spit on the floor::
::A cockroach steps out of a crevice and looks around, then turns and whistles the all clear. After a moment the lights dim, the front door closes and the key can be heard turning in the lock::
::A Very LARGE Induhvidual approaches FG, carrying something in his suitcase-sized hands::
::The marquee goes dark and the crowd disperses::
::At the whistle, thousands of cockroaches pour out of cracks and holes, each carrying a small St. Georges flag, and begin to start fights in very small bars::
::The bars are run by centipedes, who are good at filling lots of glasses at once::
::They are also pretty good at draining them too::
THE END
