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13 January 2008
Warning: Mature Burlesque Humor
Radio-play Transcript
"The Four Fools" show:
'Tropical Troublemakers'
Transcribed & Edited by
W.D.Reimer
Produced by: W.D.Reimer,
with material by: E.O.Costello, M.M.Marmel, & J.T.Urie
| Transcription
Service Rain Island Radiocast Collective "Tropical Troublemakers” ZYPR broadcast, Thursday April 15, 1937, 2230 Seathl time Broadcast rights reserved [GRAMS: Sound of approaching speedboat, moving at a high rate of speed] Announcer: Do you hear that coming? Who could it be? [GRAMS: Sound of boat’s motor over-revving and crashing onto rocks spectacularly] Announcer: Yes, folks! That’s right – it’s The Four Fools! Put the kids to bed, lock up your daughters, and leave the liquor out. Or . . . wait, lock up the kids, put the liquor to bed and leave the daughters out . . . hmmm . . . well, we’ll figure it out I suppose, but in the meantime . . . [GRAMS: Sound of metal parts clanging, tinkling and splashing in the background; sound fades down] (Theme: The Rubbish Tip Buskers play “The Old Comrades March”) Announcer: The Seathl Distiller’s and Brewer’s Syndicate (who really need their collectivized heads examined) presents “Tropical Troublemakers,” a new episode starring the Four Fools. Sponsored jointly by Pineway Distillery, makers of Cougar Whiskey, and Union Maid Beer, and based on characters created by W.D. Reimer and E.O. Costello. (Music fades down) Announcer: The Four Fools, Alan, Bobby, Chuck and Dexter, are here again, ready to offend you and the great country we all live in. I wonder when the Radiocast Collective’s going to wise up . . . [GRAMS: Sound of bottle breaking] Bobby: Piss off, you idiot announcer, or I’ll kill you with this broken bottle. Announcer: Bobby, why did you do that? Bobby: Do what? Announcer: Break that bottle. That was the last bottle of Cougar Whiskey in the whole place. You won’t get any more until the intermission. [GRAMS: Whooshing sound] Bobby: Out of whiskey?! You were supposed to get more! Come back here, you . . . [GRAMS: Sound of running feet, chase music] Dexter: I’ve got a dollar on Bobby! Chuck: Two to one on the announcer – deer are faster than martens. Alan: Guys! How dare you bet on whether or not Bobby will catch the announcer! Don’t you know that’s immoral? Chuck: All you want is to get us out of the way so you can get all the betting action, Alan. [GRAMS: Sound of lupine head getting smacked] Alan: There’s action I want, Chuck, but it has nothing to do with betting. Dexter: Of course it does, Alan, you dumb badger – you bet yourself that we’ll buy whatever tall tale you make up about your girlfriends. Alan: At least I don’t have to make up my girlfriends. You have a rich fantasy life, Dexter. [GRAMS: Vulpine growling] Alan: Bobby? Bobby! Hang on a minute! [GRAMS: Sound of squealing tires] Bobby: (panting) What, Alan? I almost had him at that last turn. Alan: True, but we need him. Bobby: Why? Alan: Do YOU want to hang around after the show and do the closing announcements? Bobby: Hmm. You’ve got a point there, Alan. Chuck: Hard to find a hat to fit it, too. [GRAMS: Sound of lupine head getting smacked; farting noise] Bobby: Gad! That made the hairs in my nose curl. Dexter: Yeah, that one was a tail-shaver, all right. Chuck, what’s got into you now? Alan: Or what have you put into yourself, you gassy wolf? Chuck: Yankee bean soup. Dexter: YANKEE bean soup? Chuck, are you turning traitor on us? That’s an American thing! Bobby: Shut up, Dexter; that stuff’s always been on the menu here in Rain Island, right next to maple syrup-glazed salmon. Dexter: Oh yeah, Bobby? Where? Bobby: Oh, that’s right – you’re not allowed into those good restaurants. [GRAMS: Vulpine growling] Alan: Okay, so we’ve picked on Dexter, and Chuck’s farted once. Chuck? Chuck: Yeah, Alan? Alan: You *have* only farted *once,* right? [GRAMS: Loud, sustained fart] Chuck: Well, twice now, Alan. [GRAMS: Farting noise] Chuck: Okay, three. Dexter: (coughing) You know, having him farting in this stuffy studio is no way to look after our health. Bobby: For once, Dexter, you’ve said something intelligent. Millions of foxes everywhere are celebrating. We need to get out. Dexter: Well, the Artist’s Syndicate keeps telling us to get out. [GRAMS: Sound of vulpine head being smacked] Alan: They keep saying, “Get out and STAY out,” Dexter. Bobby: No no, I mean we need a vacation. Go somewhere and get some fresh air. Chuck: So where will we go? Alan: Somewhere where we can get farther upwind of you, Chuck. Dexter: I’m not sure there’s a country big enough, Alan. Bobby: Look, I have this brochure . . . Chuck: Gee, big coincidence. [GRAMS: Sound of lupine skull being smacked; body hitting floor] Bobby: That’ll teach you for being sarcastic, Chuck. Alan: Bobby, put that coal shovel down and tell us about your idea. Dexter: Yeah, we’re in the mood for fairy tales. [GRAMS: Sound of smack across back of vulpine head] Dexter: OWW! Put down that shovel! [GRAMS: Sound of shovel being dropped on floor] Bobby: Look, it’s a two-week vacation in Spontoon, courtesy of the Wasting Time Collective. Dexter: Wait a minute. Isn’t that the whole government? Alan: We actually have one of those here in Rain Island? Wow, all the modern conveniences, indeed. Dexter: So what’s there to do in Spontoon, then? Bobby: To do? Plenty! Look at this picture. [GRAMS: “Boing!” sound] Dexter: Great Tapdancing Succubi! Look at all those women! Alan: Let me see that. Hmm! A vacation is certainly starting to sound rather, um, attractive, know what I mean? Chuck: No, I don’t know. Alan: That’s because you just woke up. Here, look at this. [GRAMS: “Boing!” sound] Chuck: Now I know what you mean, Alan. What are we waiting for? Bobby: Well, that’s the interesting thing. Tickets are handled by the Wasting Time Collective too, and, well . . . Alan: They’re a bunch of time-wasters? Bobby: Got it in one, Alan. Their meetings are really long. Dexter: I heard they just play pinochle all night, then go home. Chuck: Then why don’t they get voted out? Alan: Because of the Procrastinator’s Guild. They always find excuses to avoid showing up at Syndicate elections. [GRAMS: Sound of lupine head getting hit; sound of body hitting floor] Alan: Bobby? Bobby: Yes, Alan? Alan: Why did you just hit Chuck with that shovel again? Bobby: Seemed like the thing to do at the time. Alan: Okay. Well guys, let’s head into town and see if we can get tickets for our vacation. (Musical bridge) [GRAMS: Crowd noises, muted; sound of ocean liner horn sounding; distant hula music] Chuck: (sneezes) Thank God we’re finally here on Spontoon – I think I’ve caught cold. Alan: Come on, Chuck, the weather wasn’t that bad. Chuck: Yeah, but you had cabins. They made ME sleep in a tent out on the fantail. Dexter: Well, if you hadn’t farted and blown that pretty little purser’s fur half off . . . Bobby: Good thing she wasn’t a porcupine; she’d have killed half the passengers. [GRAMS: Sound of hula music growing louder] Alan: Mmm! Look at those pretty little ladies swishing their grass skirts. Bobby: And not a bit of plaid in sight. Here I was thinking that their fur would be plaid – you know, cultural imperialism from Seathl. Chuck: Perhaps they’re plaid in other places, Bobby. Bobby: Good thinking, Chuck! That fresh sea air must have helped clear your head. I’ll certainly start looking. Research, you know. [GRAMS: Farting sound] [GRAMS: Sound of hula music rapidly receding] Dexter: Certainly nothing wrong with their noses. Chuck: Sorry. I had a salad for breakfast. At least there’ll be a lot of fresh fruit here; the vitamins will help with my cold. Alan: Uh huh. With your digestion, you gassy bastard, we’re lucky we’re not all dead by now. Do the guys in Geneva know about you? Chuck: Come on, Alan, are we here to go on vacation, or insult me? Dexter: We can do both at the same time. Bobby: Yeah, that’s the great thing about a vacation. Lots of free time. Alan: Quiet, you guys. Here comes a girl with some flowers. Nice little pussy, ha – er, isn’t she? Dexter: I like the grass skirt she’s wearing. She must be a farmer’s daughter. Chuck: What do you mean by that? Dexter: Well, don’t you see the way she’s rotating her crops? Girl #1 (Melanie Haber): Hello! Welcome to Spontoon! Please accept this lei as our traditional greeting. Alan: A lay? I’m liking this place more and more. Sure, darling, but is it traditional to have a lei out in public? Girl #1: (laughs) You’re a cute Euro (off-mike) for an idiot. (aloud) A lei is this flower garland. Here. [GRAMS: Sound of a scuffle] Alan: Mmmph! Bobby: Was it traditional to stuff the flowers down his muzzle like that? Girl #1: No, is traditional to hang lei around the neck. He gets specialized service. Chuck: I’ll have the traditional service, then. (sniffs) Hey! My nose is clearing up! [GRAMS: Farting noise] Dexter: Hey! I didn’t smell that. Bobby: Must be all those flowers. Say, lady, can we have a few more of those? They’ll help mask the smell. [GRAMS: Sound of sustained fart] Girl #1: I no think I bring enough leis today. And the ones I have are starting to wilt. I leave now. Alan: (coughs, spits) Damn! That’s a feisty one. I like ‘em feisty. Dexter: You like any woman, Alan, provided she’s still breathing. Bobby: Don’t forget, Dexter, there was that time when we were working at the funeral parlor - Dexter: Oh yeah! But let’s not say anything more about that. The Standards Office sent us a warning last week. Alan: What was the warning? [GRAMS: Sound of arrow whizzing through air and striking wood with a heavy ‘thock!’ sound] Alan: Oh. Chuck: We get the point, right guys? [GRAMS: Sound of lupine head being hit; sound of body hitting wooden dock] Dexter: Bobby? Bobby: Yes, Dexter? Dexter: Why did you pack that coal shovel with your luggage? Bobby: Foresight, Dex, foresight. “Be Prepared,” and all that. Alan: Now one of you has to pick him up and carry him to the hotel. Where are we staying, Bobby? Bobby: The Seabreeze, Alan. Not too high-priced. Dexter: What, no artist’s subsidy? Alan: This isn’t Rain Island, Dexter. You know, for a fox you’re not very bright. [GRAMS: Vulpine growling] Alan: Wait a minute – Spontoon’s our ally! They’re as anarcho-syndicalist as we are! Where - Chuck: Can’t be, Alan, or they’d be wearing plaid too. [GRAMS: Farting sound] Alan: Bobby, can I have that shovel for a moment? Bobby: Sure, Alan. Here you are. Alan: As I was saying, *Chuck*, where do they get off having high-priced ritzy hotels? Dexter: I have an idea, Alan. Chuck: First time for everything. Alan: Quiet, Chuck. Well, Dexter? Dexter: Spontoon’s a small country, right? Bobby: Certainly looks that way. Look at this map – how do they manage to fit all their government on that little island? Do they stand on each other’s shoulders or something? Chuck: That’d be something to see – acrobatic bureaucrats. Dexter: Well, they need money, right? Alan: If you find a point, Dexter - Bobby: - ram it up your - Chuck: Remember the Standards Office, Bobby! Bobby: All the time, Chuck. I send them Christmas cards. Dexter: Look, Alan, ever seen a cow getting milked? That’s what the Spontoonies are doing to these fat tourists from America. Alan: So, they’re milking them? I can see that with the ladies, but the guys as well? That’s one way to guarantee the tourists will come back. Bobby: It’d be like when Chuck accidentally tried to milk that bull on that farm last year. Dexter: He had a friend for life after that, Bobby. [GRAMS: Lupine growling] Bobby: True, Dexter. Or until his new friend was turned into steaks. (pause) Say, did we manage to get that last bit past the Standards Office? [GRAMS: Snoring, off-mike] Alan: Great, he’s taking his nap. So, the reason Spontoon has high-priced hotels is to get more money from tourists? Dexter: Quite right. Simply taking money from oppressors. Chuck: Wait a minute, Dexter. We’re tourists too, right? Dexter: Oh. Er . . . ah . . . Chuck: Alan, can I borrow that shovel? Alan: Here you are, Chuck. Chuck: Thanks. [GRAMS: Sound of vulpine head getting smacked; sound of body hitting wooden dock] Bobby: That was a good hit, Chuck. Excellent windup and you followed through. You’ve been practicing. Chuck: That actually felt pretty good. Alan: Bet it didn’t feel good to Dexter. Chuck: Here’s your shovel back, Bobby. Bobby: Thanks, Chuck. So, let’s go to the hotel and then find a place to eat, okay? Alan: Great idea, Bobby. What about Dexter? Kid #1 (Anselmo Pederazy): (laughs loudly) Ha-ha! Creature with bushy tail outlander stupid looks! Flat-skull has! Bobby: He’s doing what he loves best – entertaining people. Alan: Right you are, Bobby. Let’s go. Announcer: While we wait for Dexter to wake up, let’s pause for a drink. You can have a glass of that smooth and refreshing whiskey with the leaping cougar on the label, or the fresh, sparkling lager that is the highlight of May Day in the Spontoon Islands! Yes, friends, I’m talking about that great product of Pinewater Distillery, Cougar Whiskey, and Spontoon’s wonderful Union Maid beer! Both are made from the finest grains and fresh, pure water - Chuck: - and brewed by pretty girls wearing nothing but their fur - Announcer: - ahem. As I was saying - Alan: Hey, Announcer Man! Announcer: What? Alan: How’d you get to Spontoon with us? Announcer: The magic of radio, Alan. Dexter: I want to get hired by the Radiocast Collective. I could use the sleep. Announcer: ZYPR may be listening, Dexter. I think the Syndic is allowed to stay up late on weekends. Bobby: Well, I hope a musical number’s coming up. Announcer: Right you are, Bobby. Here to entertain you – (off-mike) finally, someone to entertain you (aloud) – are Ignatz Kokonino and the Spontones, with their performance of “Samoan Love Hula.” Chuck: A hula? Will they be wearing grass skirts? Alan: It’s all in the mind, you know. Close your eyes and picture it. Chuck: I can’t. Alan: Why not? Chuck: Because Bobby always hits me if I shut my eyes. Dexter: Must be a bother trying to sleep, then. (Music: “Samoan Love Hula”) (Wait for applause) Announcer: That was Ignatz Kokonino and the Spontones, coming to you courtesy of Cougar Whiskey and Union Maid beer. And now, back to our show. Although you could take Alan’s advice and just picture some lovely hula maids dancing on a sandy beach . . . Alan: Truly an appealing sight. Run off now, and don’t do anything the Standards Office can complain about. Announcer: Alan, you *know* the Standards Office complains about almost anything. [GRAMS: Whooshing sound; running feet] (musical bridge) [GRAMS: Door opening; muted street sounds, seagulls] Bobby: That hotel’s a pesthole! I swear my bed’s been slept in by perverted kangaroos. Chuck: It was, Bobby. The bellhop told me that the Australian Men’s Swim Team was here last week. Alan: Okay, so I can see where they might have been kangaroos, but the perverted part? Chuck: Well, Alan, they’re known for - [GRAMS: Sound of arrow whizzing through air and hitting a nearby tree] Chuck: Um, never mind. Bobby: The Standards Office is getting a bit aggressive. Dexter: Did you forget to lay out the cookies and warm milk for them? Bobby: I knew I forgot something. Alan: Some things *are* probably better left unsaid. Now, what about dinner? Dexter: Hmm. Hey, there’s a Cipanguan restaurant over there. Bobby: “Tsunami Restaurant, Fine Cipanguan and Italian Cuisine.” Do we have enough money to afford ‘cuisine,’ Alan? Alan: Yeah, I guess so. Let’s go. [GRAMS: Sound of door opening; sounds of diners off-mike] Luigi Bustacappa (Jerry Colonna): Greetings, Gate! Here to masticate? Chuck: Masti – what? [GRAMS: Sound of lupine head being smacked] Luigi: Masticate! Eat! Eat! The state of education these days. Hideous, isn’t it? Dexter: We’re the only ones allowed to hit our friend here, so show us to a table so we can eat. What’s your name? Luigi: Luigi Bustacappa. I’ma well known in Chicago. Bobby: What, were you a gangster? Luigi: I was a made fur. Chuck: A maid fur? What, did you have to wear a frilly skirt and apron? Alan: Did you have to change Al Capon’s diaper? Luigi: Ah, Scarface. Great guy. What brings a fox, a wolf, a marten and a badger to a Cipanguan restaurant with an Italian waiter? Dexter: It’s Yom Kippur. (pause) [GRAMS: Crickets] Luigi: Okay, here’s your menus. [GRAMS: Papers rustling] Bobby: What’s this "sushi"? Luigi: Sushi’s a great dish. Bobby: What is it? Luigi: Raw fish. All but Luigi: RAW FISH!? Luigi: Ahh, yes. Disgusting, isn’t it? Chuck: You know, that actually sounds pretty good. What do you have to drink? Luigi: Sake. Chuck: Sake? Okay, I’ll have that. [GRAMS: Sound of lupine muzzle being dented] Luigi: There you go, Gate! A nice sake in the puss! Alan: Look, we’re not here to make a meal of the issues. Four orders of sushi and four bottles of Union Maid beer. Bobby: Good way to work in the co-sponsor, Alan. Luigi: Four sushi, four beers. Okay. (walks off, singing off-mike) Oh, if you knew sushi like I knew sushi . . . Dexter: Sorry, had to step out. Did I miss anything? Alan: We’ve already ordered. Dexter: Did you order anything for me? Chuck: Yeah, we ordered you sake. Dexter: Sake? [GRAMS: Sound of vulpine muzzle being dented] Chuck: A nice sake in the puss. Bobby: (applauding) Good one, Chuck. You actually told a joke that involved hitting Dexter. Chuck: Thanks, Bobby. You know, that waiter’s a bit creepy – those huge, bulging eyes of his; they seem to follow us everywhere. Dexter: He’s a Boston terrier, Chuck – he’s born that way. Besides, he’s probably watching you for his tip. [GRAMS: Clatter of plates, followed by clink of bottles] Luigi: Here you are, guys. Bobby: Hey, what’s this green stuff on my plate? Luigi: Wasabi. Bobby: I don’t know, wasabi with you? Luigi: No fair! I asked you first! Chuck: (eating) This sushi stuff’s actually pretty good. Alan: You like it, Chuck? Here, you can have mine. Luigi? Luigi: Ahh, yes? Alan: I changed my mind about the sushi. Do you have any cooked fish? Luigi: Sure! We got fugu. Bobby: Oh yeah? Fugu to you - Luigi: Ah ah ah! Remember the censor! Bobby: Fugu him too! All: FUGU TO EVERYBODY! Luigi: We got beautiful fried fish. Tuna. We don’t have the piano fish. Dexter: Why not? Luigi: You can tune a piano, but you can’t tuna fish. Hilarious, isn’t it? [GRAMS: Sound of door opening and closing; crowd noises fall silent] Chuck: Look, a bunch of Cipanguans just walked in. That one raccoon in the lead looks a bit deformed in the crotch. [GRAMS: Sound of lupine head being smacked] Alan: Chuck, that’s not a raccoon, that’s a tanuki. They all look that way, so I’ve heard from Dexter. Dexter: (splutters) Alan: Look, there’s another. You know, I think they might be Yakuza. Chuck: Yaku-what? Alan: Yakuza! All: Gesundheit! Bobby: Saw that coming a mile off. Dexter: Funny; they don’t look Yakuzish. You know, I was in a French gang once. Chuck: Yeah, Dexter? Dexter: Yeah. They were called the "J’accuza". [GRAMS: Sound of vulpine head getting hit; sound of body hitting floor] Dexter: Damn, Bobby! Do you have to carry that coal shovel *everywhere* with you? Bobby: Yes, Dexter, I have to. You never know when you’ll tell another bad joke. Kumakuso Mori (Alvin Bradshaw): ‘Ey, Luigi! [GRAMS: Sound of approaching footsteps, door slamming closed] Luigi: You gotta lotta balls comin’ in here, Kumakuso. Kumakuso: (laughs) ‘Ey, I’m a tanuki! I always have a lotta balls! Dexter: You know, I think they might be in the Yakuza. Look, one of them’s missing his little finger. Alan: Gad, Dexter, you may be right. Chuck: That one’s missing his middle finger. What’d he do wrong? Dexter: I guess he got the ZYPR censor angry. Bobby: What do they cut off if - Alan: You probably don’t want to know that, Bobby. Dexter: Yeah, you don’t have much as it is. Kumakuso: Where’s Kawakura, Luigi? Luigi: He got the sack. Kumakuso: Eeeeee! I bet that hurt. [GRAMS: Prolonged fart sound] Chuck: Sorry. [GRAMS: Sounds of diners leaving, rapidly] Luigi: Phew! Awful, isn’t it? Alan: Those gangsters are starting to look at us funny. Chuck: Funny ha-ha, or funny peculiar? Alan: More like “I’m going to kill you” funny. [GRAMS: Door opening, closing] Deliveryman (Dave Casman): Rain Island Parcel Service. Anyone here order a deus ex machina? Alan: Right here. Just in time, too. Deliveryman: We pride ourselves on fast service. Sign here. (musical bridge, with hula motif) Bobby: Well, we finally managed to give those mobsters the slip. Alan: Dexter’s going to be mad at you for stealing his clothes, Bobby. [GRAMS: Vulpine growling] Dexter: Damn it, Bobby! Stop going through my luggage or so help me - Bobby: You’ll what? Bleed on me after I hit you? Again? Dexter: No, I’ll let Anna Dragamanoff know where you’ve been hiding. [GRAMS: Sound of mustelid squealing in fright] [GRAMS: Door opens] Alan: Good Lord! What’s that stink? Bobby: Your upper lip? [GRAMS: Sound of mustelid head getting smacked] Alan: Chuck, what are you eating? It looks like a chamberpot with spikes all over it. Dexter: Smells like it too. Chuck: It’s a fruit I saw in the market, Alan. It’s called "durian", and it tastes really great. Try some? Alan: Er, no. If it smells that bad - Dexter: Come on, Alan. You know what they say – once you get past the smell you’ve got it - [GRAMS: Sound of arrow whizzing; heavy *thock* sound] Bobby: I think the Standards Office just woke up from their naps. Alan: So, Chuck, you’re eating something that smells really bad and has spikes all over it. I was wondering where she went – I lost her phone number. [GRAMS: Sound of arrow whizzing] Alan: OWW! Okay, okay! I get the point. Dexter: Yeah, you did. Right in the tail. Chuck: This is really tasty, especially with Union Maid beer. I wonder if I can cook this? Dexter: Cook *that*? I’d rather have Bobby’s Rotting Carcass Surprise. Bobby: You didn’t like the amount of grit in it, Dexter. [GRAMS: Sound of door closing] Bobby: Where’s Chuck going? Alan: I think he’s stepped into the kitchen to cook that fruit. Say, Bobby, what do you get when you eat Chuck’s Durian Surprise? Bobby: I’m sure I don’t know, Alan. Alan: Chronic explosive diarrhea and a sore tongue. Bobby: In that case, I’ll be sure to force-feed it to Dexter. Dexter: (splutters) Say, I just had a thought. Alan: I thought I smelled something burning. Dexter: That’s a gas stove in there. (pause) All: THE PILOT LIGHT! [GRAMS: Farting sound, followed by thunderous explosion, sounds of debris raining down] (musical bridge) Bobby: (coughing) Great job, Chuck. You blew up our hotel. Chuck: Well, you did complain it was a dump. Luckily it’s a nice night and we can sleep outdoors. [GRAMS: Distant thunder] Alan: Or not. Dexter: Chuck, if you had sphincter control you could get a spot on the ZYPR studio band. Bobby: Yeah, you could be First Arse. Alan: ‘Flight of the Bumblebee’ would never be the same. Hello! Here comes a couple of women wearing next to nothing. Bobby: Gas fumes still bothering you, Alan? Priestess #1 (Lilly Lamont): Greetings unto you, outlanders. Alan: No, Bobby. Hello, ladies! What can I do for you? Show you a good time? Priestess #2 (Audrey Farber): Creature with head-stripes outlander watch his tongue. Alan: I’d rather use my tongue - [GRAMS: Sound of badger skull being struck] Priestess #1: Wise Ones here all same seek fur who calls upon Keyho-Raha-Raha. Dexter: “Keyhole Rah-Rah?” That was a great movie! I saw it at the Blue River Theater in Seathl a while back. Chuck: I saw it too, Dexter. I was amazed – I didn’t think cheerleaders were THAT limber. Dexter: Well, if one’s a cougar and the other’s a weasel . . . [GRAMS: Sound of vulpine head being hit] Priestess #2: Silence! Do not defame name of Fire God. Priestess #1: You there, creature with no fur on arse outlander – query you make great flame? Chuck: Er, yes. [GRAMS: Sound of lupine skull getting hit; sound of body hitting ground] Priestess #1: Creatures with stupid looks outlanders to come with us to great ceremony in honor Fire God. Take up creature with no fur on arse outlander. Priestess #2: You all same not boss of I. You bigger; you carry him. Priestess #1: You junior. It in rules. Priestess #2: Oblivion take tight union rules . . . (huffing as she picks up Chuck) Priestess #1: You outlanders come with us for ceremony. Bobby: Is Chuck going to be sacrificed? Priestess #1: Depends upon will of gods. Dexter: Sounds like it’ll be a lot of fun. Let’s go. Bobby: Wait a minute. What’s on the radio tonight? Alan: The local station’s playing something from Rain Island – ‘Mosses of South Tillamook.’ Bobby: Damn! My ex-girlfriend gets a radio show of her own, and I get nothing. Dexter: Don’t worry, Bobby. You’re a lot more talented than she is. Bobby: You think so, Dexter? Dexter: At least, that’s what that sailor said as he left your room last night. Bobby: Why you – where’s my shovel? Priestess #1: Here, have Spontoonie war-club, creature with scruffy headfur outlander. Bobby: Thank you. Dexter! [GRAMS: Sound of running feet, chase music off-mike; vulpine yelling cut off by loud impact of wood on wood] Bobby: I broke your war-club. Sorry. Priestess #2: No problem, creature with scruffy headfur outlander. We buy new one from Steers and Roebuck. Alan: Well, your partner’s starting to sag a bit, sweets, so let’s go to the party. (musical bridge, with off-mike war drums) Dexter: You know something, Alan? Alan: Probably more than you, Dexter. What? Dexter: You really have to worry about a culture that considers lighting farts to be a religious sign. [GRAMS: Sound of war drums, off-mike; sound remains throughout scene] Bobby: Actually, the food here’s not bad, and there’s plenty of good-looking women here without a stitch on. It’s almost worth switching religions. Dexter: You have a religion, Bobby? Bobby: Sure! I’m a Presbyopian. Alan: Don’t you mean Presbyterian? Bobby: Nope, Presbyopian – we can only focus on others’ faults ‘cause they’re far enough away. [GRAMS: Crickets] Dexter: That’s the last time we let an eye doctor write our material. [GRAMS: Drums get louder; sound of conch horns blowing] Dexter: Here comes – Chuck? He’s still unconscious, and – oh, that’s just plain nasty. Alan: What? Bobby: He’s face down on a platform with his furless arse sticking up in the air. Well, they do say radio needs new faces. Alan, why aren’t you looking? Alan: I’d love to, but I’m looking up this cute little feline’s grass skirt right now. [GRAMS: Soft chanting begins] Chuck: Hmmph . . . Hey! Where am I? Why am I tied down? Bobby, is this one of your jokes? Bobby: We’ll have to see when the train comes along, Chuck. Dexter: They’re just honoring your arse, Chuck. Chuck: What!? Dexter: Apparently they think you were calling on their Fire God. Chuck: Well, now that you mention it, my rear does burn a bit. [GRAMS: Fart sound; followed by hollow ‘whoosh!’ sound] Chuck: OW!!! Alan: I was wondering why they had that torch set up near his rear end. Nice flame though – really adds a lot of light to the scene. [GRAMS: Sound of chanting continues; another fart, followed by a whoosh] Dexter: That was a nice blue color. Chuck: OWW!! AHH!! GUYS, HELP ME! Alan: Now that’s what you call cooking with gas. Bobby: And no smell, since it burns off. Dexter: You know, though, this might be a bit dangerous. Bobby: Why do you say that, Dexter? Dexter: He’s been eating sushi, durian and drinking Union Maid Beer. He’s usually a vegetarian. I wonder what that’ll do to his gassy insides? Bobby: Who can tell? All I know is I want to watch when he does fire off. Where’s Alan? Dexter: He’s over there. Hey, Alan! There’s no need to tell that girl about your pox. [GRAMS: Sound of badger skull being dented] Alan: Damn you, Dexter. I about had that girl convinced to give up farming. Bobby: What do you mean by that? Alan: I was trying to get her to take off that skirt, you fool. Chuck: Guys! Dexter: What, Chuck? Can’t you see we’re busy? Chuck: My stomach’s hurting . . . All: Uh-oh . . . [GRAMS: Fart sound, followed by thunderous whooshing noise; the drums stop and people scream, off-mike] (musical bridge) Priestess #1: Creature with no fur on arse outlander, you all same honor Fire God. You and friends leave Spontoon. Chuck: Do we win anything or take anything with us? Priestess #2: Yes. Your lives. Alan: Look, just because Chuck’s fart burned all the fur off the faces of your villagers is no cause for you to menace us with spears. We can’t leave – the ship doesn’t head back for another two days. Priestess #1: Good exercise start swim; ship catch up eventually. Chuck: Can we have another bottle of Union Maid beer first? Priestess #2: What, you want poison water too? Chuck: It’ll all end in tears, I tell you. [GRAMS: Sound of lupine head being dented] Bobby: Don’t steal other peoples’ lines, Chuck. Kid: Ha-ha! Creatures with stupid looks outlanders silly look! Deliveryman: Gentlemen? Alan, Bobby, Chuck, Dexter (together): Where? Huh? Who walked in? (Music rises, then fades.) Announcer: Well, dear friends, right now would be a great time for - Bobby: Hiding under the bed. I’m sure we offended someone tonight. Announcer: Ahem, for savoring a last glass of smooth Cougar Whiskey – Dexter: But not if you’ve ever had it before. Announcer: - or that cool, refreshing product of the sunny Spontoons, Union Maid beer! Cougar Whiskey, another fine product of Pineway Distillery! Chuck: Are we getting paid in kind again, Alan? Alan: Probably, Chuck. Chuck: Oh. I hope they give me my pay in burn ointment and hemorrhoid pillows. Announcer: I have no idea why you’re punishing yourselves like this, but you’ve been listening to the Four Fools in their production of “Tropical Troublemakers,” brought to you by the Distiller’s Collective. [GRAMS: Three raspberries and a farting noise] Announcer: Alan was played by Alan Bryant, Bobby by Bobby Donaldson, Chuck by Chuck Miner, and Dexter by Dexter Mayhew. The Girl was played by Melanie Haber, The Kid by Anselmo Pederazy, Kumokuso by Alvin Bradshaw, the Deliveryman by Dave Casman, and the Priestesses were played by Lilly Lamont and Audrey Farber. Dexter: I think they all took a break from ‘The Highwayman’ for this. Announcer: Our special guest tonight was Jerry Colonna as Luigi Bustacappa – Bobby: Hey! He left without signing his contract! Chuck: Great! That means we don’t have to pay him. Announcer: Our musical guest tonight was Ignatz Kokonino and the Spontones, brought to you by the Distiller’s Syndicate and the Spontoon Ministry of Tourism. Come visit sunny Spontoon! The show was produced by W.D. Reimer – Alan: - who apparently escaped from an asylum - Announcer: - with additional material by E.O Costello, M.M. Marmel and J.T. Urie. The less said about me, the better. This has been the Rain Island Radiocast Collective, Station ZYPR, wishing all of you out there a very pleasant night. All: GO TO BED, DAMMIT! (Music rises, then fades). Transcribed and edited by W.D.Reimer |