Saturday, June 9, 2012

SPHCACTTTSTCOAOTHAB Part 2: 2012...In Space!

WHEN LAST WE LEFT OUR HEROES!!!!!

Joe Q. Public: Oh look, he's back to doing a *regular* opening now--

After securing peace in the Space/Time Continuum Middle East, Piett, Herve, Cosmos and Chronos relax but are quickly thrust into a new calamity: the possible destruction of everything due to the meddling of Space Mayans!!!!!!

Joe Q. Public: Yes. A story that will be outdated by the end of the year.

[Cosmos and Chronos grab the pessimistic (and tiring) representation of the "fanbase" and throw him off the old timey balloon craft.]

Cosmos: This is fun, killing people like this.
Chronos: How did he even get here?
Herve: Well at least we know how he got there.

[Herve points overboard toward one of the comets, where they watch Joe Q. Public's body incinerated in a flash.]

Herve: Yet even with that, he'll come back somehow.
Piett: Guys, I'm kinda pumped up about this adventure. It sounds positively cosmic. We haven't really done that in a while. AND it's Space Mayans, so the bullshit levels are about what we always deal with anyway too.
Cosmos: There's no bullshit here, friends! These Space Mayans are right!

[Piett, Herve and Chronos laugh. This goes on for some time.]

Cosmos: Stop that! You won't be laughing on December 21st!
Chronos: No, but we will be on December 22nd!

[Piett, Herve and Chronos laugh. Assassinating his case, Cosmos also has to laugh a bit too. This goes on for some time.]

Herve: Oh, I do enjoy the art of laugh.
Cosmos: Sadly we won't be laughing for much longer because of the Mayans.
Herve: Don't make me kick you in the dickballs, man. Let's just stop them and refer to them henceforth as nothing but a minor inconvenience in our overall travels and adventures.
Chronos: Really, though [covers his dick], these Space Mayans are going to send an array of comets crashing into every star in the universe, destroying all life and possibility of life with solar storms!
Piett: And all from the comfortable confines of a fucking old timey balloon! Is there a REASON for this damnable contraption?!
Chronos: Face fact, true believoids, this cosmic development is scientifically possible!
Herve: No, it is not scientifically possible [points behind him to the madness of a Mayan pyramid structure floating in space directing comets into suns] TO EXPLAIN ANY OF THAT.
Piett: Jebus, are we being written by Art Bell and George Noury now?!
Herve: Been listening to Coast to Coast AM again, huh?
Piett: Nothing more amazing that to wake up at 2am to the sound of insane conspiracy theories. It's the only time that crap has any plausibility for me.
Herve: Wait a tic. "Solar storms"... Shit, is this gonna be like that movie Knowing?!

[The quantum duo suddenly face the other.]

Herve and Piett [to each other]: Oh boy, if you start quoting fucking Nic Cage I will rape your balls.

[Pause]

Piett [happily]: We know each other so well.
Herve: I've never felt closer to you.

[They hug.]

Cosmos and Chronos [together]: Gay.

[Pause]

Piett: Yes?
Cosmos: We're not hugging.
Herve: Oh, [ahems] I SEE.
Chronos: STOP THAT!
Piett: Hang on, I know how to settle this. Fourth wall!

[SuddeBOOM!!!!!!!]

Darkseid: WHAAAAAAAASUP!!!!!
Herve: Wow, that meme came back out of nowhere. Hell, the word 'meme' didn't even exist when that was a meme.
Piett [points yonder]: Darkseid, is that humanly possible?

[Darkseid looks at the Mayan pyramid structure floating in space directing comets into suns and ponders for a moment.]

Darkseid: Well I've seen worse. But yeah, this is possible.
Piett: Fair enough.
Herve: I'm sold.
Cosmos: This shit is actually happening! When was "possible" ever in doubt?!
Chronos: And you believe him but not us?!
Piett: Dude, it's Darkseid.
Herve: Darkseid is. [pause] The man. [fistbumps Darkseid]
Cosmos: Well, now that you're...convinced...shall we address this threat?
Piett: I don't know how well this old timey hot air balloon can address this threat, but we can try.
Chronos: Do, or do not......there is no try.

[Everyone looks at him, curiously.]

Chronos: I just watched The Empire Strikes Back the other night. [pause] The Special Edition. [pause] I prefer Attack of the Clones as a second entry to a Star Wars trilogy.
Darkseid: You're just.........awful.
Piett: Wanna tag along on this adventure, Darkseid?
Darkseid: I may tag along for a bit, see how this plays out. I got nothing else going on, what with the kid running things now.
Herve: Your kid? Orion? [pause] Oh shit, did you just come from the year 2000?
Darkseid: Yes. What year is it now? What's changed? Am I even cooler in whatever future year this is?
Herve: Oof. Well, listen, in another 6 years prepare to be GREATLY offended.
Darkseid: That can't be good.
Piett: It isn't.
Chronos: I don't understand any of this inside humor.
Cosmos: From what I gather, very few others alive do either. This is New Gods talk, after all.
Darkseid: Oh geez, am I a lunchlady?
Chronos: Ooh, now that's a TINY TITANS reference.
Cosmos: Tiny Titans > New Gods. [pause] That seems right.

[As those on the craft The old timey hot air balloon changes its course and heads toward the Space Mayan pyramid structure. Without warning, laser cannons emerge from all parts of the craft and open fire on the Space Mayan starcraft. All aboard are quite stunned.]

Piett: The old timey hot air balloon has laser cannons.
Herve: God bless the Chitauri race.

[The firefight continues, as the old timey hot air balloon decimates the hapless Space Mayan structure. As the influx of comets begins to wane and the space debris breaks away and flies off into space, Piett and Herve stand at the bow of their craft and await a chance to jump ship and board the ravaged pyramid.]

Piett: This is all too easy.
Herve: Indeed. Something's not--
Voice: NGAAHAHHAHHHAHHHHHRRGHH!!!!!!!!

[Suddenly 2 beings leap from the shadows and attack Piett and Herve. With even more relative ease, they handle their new mysterious foes and send them to their makers, courtesy of a fatal throat assault and a 5 fingered death punch to the heart.]

Piett: Hey, that tasted good! I can see why you do it!
Herve: Wait, did you do that?! [looks at his hand] GAH!!!!

[Herve, seeing that his death punch resulted in the complete removal of his enemy's heart, shrieks and throws it away.]

Piett: For shame. You're not supposed to actually pull his heart out with that punch. Not without yelling "Kalima!", at least.
Herve: I would think pulling someone's heart out of their chest would be impressive enough, but these are the standards we're dealt, it seems.

[Darkseid, Cosmos and Chronos saunter in. Darkseid appears to be checking his smartphone device.]

Herve: Are you texting in the middle of our adventure??
Darkseid: No, I'm looking at hilarious lolcat photos I've collected.
Chronos [looking over Darkseid's shoulder]: Those aren't lolcat photos, they're tortured hobos and denizens of whatever planet you're from.
Darkseid: Well......they're hilarious, at least.
Chronos: Gah.
Cosmos: I want to cry and vomit at the same time. And not from the proper orifaces either.
Piett: Thanks for the help.
Darkseid: I don't do physical confrontations. Makes me cooler and eviler.
Herve: "Eviler?"
Darkseid: God. Gods can make up words too.

[Cosmos goes to turn around and vomit when he seems....something very off about the 2 dead attackers. As the other venture onward, he kneels down and gazes at their faces. His eyes widen. He is horrified. He turns and runs to the others.]

Cosmos: Piett!! Herve!! Others!!! WAIT!!!!!!

[But it is too late. The others have arrived in the vast and hideous inner sanctum of the Space Mayan pyramid. Quickly all their eyes are transfixed on a large object, that rotates slowly and emits a bright bright bright gold light throughout the cavernous innards of the craft.]

Darkseid: The. FUCK.
Chronos: Dear Gods, it's not Space Mayans. Or even Space Nazis. [shakes fist] AT ALL.
Herve: It's......
Piett: It's......

[Ever so dramatic pause.]

Piett: McDonaldLand.

[Pause]

Darkseid: And I'm outs. [opens a Boom TubeBOOM!!!!!!! and departs this story]
Herve: Coast to Coast AM didn't see this one coming, I reckon.
Piett: Probably, though I don't listen commonly anymore so I can't speak fo--
Herve: TRUST ME, THEY DID NOT SEE THIS COMING.

*to be continued...*

Saturday, June 2, 2012

SPHCACTTTSTCOAOTHAB (So Piett, Herve, Cosmos and Chronos travel through the Space/Time Continuum on a old timey hot air balloon) Part 1: Five Assholes in a Balloon

[I'm giving you a cold open. To a multipart story, no less. Yeah, I can do that. Let the scenery and situations be revealed and explained by the characters.]

Piett: Well, this has just been a colossal waste of time.
Cosmos: What do you mean? We just negotiated peace in the Middle East.
Piett: The Middle East of the Space/Time Continuum. And now we're flying home in.....THIS?!
Cosmos: It was a gift.
Piett: No culture I'm aware of has ever considered an old timey hot air balloon a gift.
Chronos: An old timey hot air balloon with a giant craft attached to it, mind you, not a little basket.

[Pause]

Herve: We know where we are, Chronos.
Chronos: I know, I'm just providing some exposition. [pause] I think we got a cold open. It's chilly in here.
Piett: You're not wearing pants.
Chronos [pauses]: This shouldn't shock you.
Herve: I'd say "put that thing away!" but.....well, heh.....
Chronos: Asshole.
Piett: Didn't we see a movie about people in an old timey balloon?
Herve: No. We did not.
Piett: I really thought we d--
Herve: Nope. We didn't. No.
Cosmos: I would imagine this means you have.
Herve: Thank you, Vice-Admiral Obvious. And to clarify, there were actually 2 movies about people in balloons.
Piett: Oh, so the other one--
Herve: Doesn't exist. We didn't see it. No. Nonononofuckno.
Piett: Alright then.
Herve: Anyway, this old timey hot air balloon isn't a gift, it's probably a trap. You know those Middle Eastern folks, they're always attaching bombs to stuff and wanting to blow up white people.
Piett, Cosmos and Chronos: OOHHHHHH!!!!
Herve: Well they do. Those Reptilians do NOT like us.
Piett: It was you they didn't like. If you called them "the Chitauri" like they kept asking, they probably wouldn't think you, and thus "all you other skins," were so awful for repeatedly using what they consider a very offensive name.
Cosmos: Hang on. I'm looking at the story title....
Herve [whispers to Piett]: He can do that?
Piett [whispers back]: Makes sense that he can.
Cosmos: ....and it says there are 5 guys here.
Herve: Oh shit, did a fucking reptilian get in?!
Piett: Dude!
Cosmos: I also think Walsh may've had a stroke coming up with that acronym.
Chronos: Um, guys?

[All look as Chronos points at a being sitting in a corner of the ship. He is smoking a pipe and muttering pearls of wisdom to himself.]

Cosmos: Is.....is that Mark Twain???
Herve: NGAHHHHHHH!!!!!
Piett: This was one of those movies, wasn't it?
Chronos: That's......that's a Claymation version of Mark Twain.
Cosmos: What is this?
Piett: You've never seen it?
Herve: Obviously not. Should we?
Piett: Do we have to...?
Herve: No, we don't. But they do.
Piett: Oh goodie.

***90 minutes later***

Cosmos: That was just awful.
Chronos: I've seen that before. It did not age well.
Cosmos: I have no frame of context to judge how it aged, but I can assure you that it probably sucked back then too.
Chronos: But there was that one segment that was super creepy.
Cosmos: If I was drunk I might be able to be coerced into agreeing with you. But it'd have to be really drunk. On Guinness Dark Ale.
Chronos: Oh lord no. I wouldn't do that to you.
Piett: This is very wordy for them.
Herve: Yeah. That movie may've made them cooler.
Piett: Doubtful.

[Suddenly, Cosmos and Chronos grab the Claymated Mark Twain and toss him over the side.]

Piett: What was that!?!
Chronos: We don't need this baggage, and not just because the movie is awful.
Piett: Did you at least throw him into a comet?
Cosmos: Hillary's Comet?
Piett: No. Just a comet.
Cosmos: Oh. Well, yes. We did.

[A comet passes by.]

Piett: That one?
Cosmos: Not that one.

[Another comet passes by.]

Piett: That one?
Cosmos: Not that one either.

[Another comet passes by.]

Piett: That one?
Cosmos: Not that one.
Chronos: For Xenu's sake, STOP!

[Another comet passes by. Chronos tackles Piett before repetitiveness can be achieved.]

Herve: I'm no space science guy, but this seems rather odd, doesn't it?
Cosmos: First off, you are correct on both counts, and secondly........there's a very obvious reason.

[Cosmos points outward, as Piett and Herve roll their eyes and realize they're sick of that particular narrative cliche -- hey, screw you two assholes too! -- and the quartet witness the cause of this sudden influx of cosmic activity: suspended in space in front of them is a giant Mesoamerican pyramid structure, using vast powers to control the trajectory of comets in the immediate area.]

Herve [quickly]: Space Mayans.
Piett [quickly]: Space Mayans.
Chronos: ...space Nazis?
Herve: Gotta get off the Nazi thing, man. We obsess a little too much about it.
Chronos: If Space Hitler is totally behind this, you guys owe me a Pepsi Next.

*to be continued*

Thursday, April 19, 2012

The Obscure Ones

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Resurrectron 5000 online.

All systems operational.

Identification process underway.




Subject Van Buren, M. Viable. Replication and reconstitution commenced.

Subject Arthur, C.A. No longer viable. Biological data cannot be replicated and reconstituted successfully.

Subject Hayes, R.B. Viable. Replication and reconstitution commenced.

Subject Harrison, B. No longer viable. Biological data cannot be replicated and reconstituted successfully. And besides, Hayes pretty much fulfills the silly facial hair quota.

Subject Ford, G. Viable. Replication and reconstitution....really? He, like, just died, right? Well, whatever, let's do this one for laughs. Replication and reconstitution commenced.

Subject Buchanan, J. Viable. Replication and reconstitution commenced.

Subject Pierce, F. Viable. Replication and reconstitution commenced.

Subject Tyler, J. No longer viable. No good comedy to be extracted from maybe the most pointless President ever.

Subject Coolidge, C. Viable. Replication and reconstitution commenced.

Subject Fillmore, M. Viable. Replication and reconstitution commenced.

Subject Polk, J.K. Viable. But come on, he fought the Mexican War and annexed Texas and California and most of America. To hell with you. Replication and reconstitution not commenced -- showing some Goddamn respect, asshole.

Subject Hoover, H. Viable. Replication and reconsitution commen.....fatal error. Whoops. Oh sh##01011100111101100---*




































[And much like the stock market under Hoover's watch, the behemoth Resurrectron 5000 - located within bowels of the Space/Time Continuum mansion of Cosmos and Chronos - crashes, as it suffers a massive power failure. Piett and Herve look upon the 7 filled human-sized containment tubes and nod in approval.]


*******


[Some hours later, the first of the 7 tubes opens, and the occupant awakens and sits up. As the minutes of revival and confusion progress, the other 6 tubes opens and their denizens also come to. They emerge.....and discover that they are fully clothed, each in their own familiar wardrobes, and in remarkable physical condition. One of them speaks - for the first time in many many years.]

Martin Van Buren (8th President of the United States): Where....am I? Who are all you people?
Calvin Coolidge: (30th President of the United States): Saints preserve us....Martin Van Buren?!
James Buchanan (15th President of the United States): Van Buren? [looks around] My God, I'm alive!
Millard Fillmore (13th President of the United States): As are the rest of us, Mr. Buchanan, though I know nothing of how that can be...
Franklin Pierce (14th President of the United States): .....I have nothing much to add. I'm just bewildered by all of this.
Rutherford B. Hayes (19th President of the United States): I'll bet that bastard Sam Tilden is responsible for this folly!
Gerald Ford (38th President of the United States): I just wish I knew who you people were.

[The room is suddenly illuminated, as Piett and Herve approach the formerly dead presidents, who are descending from their stasis tubes.]

Piett: Oh, Gerald Ford. All the parodies were correct, it seems. You really are just a dim bulb.
Herve: Harsh, man. Doubly so, considering Ford died, like, only a few years ago. How is he a....what'd you call them?
Piett: Obscure one.
Herve: Dude, no. You called them weird ones.
Piett: "Weird" sounded better at the time. Though I meant obscure.
Herve: Well, if you were just bringing back the ones with funky facial hair, I could understand.
Rutherford B. Hayes: I protest, sir!
Franklin Pierce: How did you know he was talking about you?
Rutherford B. Hayes: I...[pause]...hoped, though in retrospect I shan't a clue why I'd do that.
Millard Fillmore: Attention whore, anyone?
Martin Van Buren: Language, you uncouth-ed so-and-so!
Piett: I like the mouth on him. Bringing back Fillmore was a good call.
Herve: Don't look at me. I have little idea who any of these folks outside Ford are.
Piett: You can wiki them later. Right now, we have a mission to get to!
Calvin Coolidge: Hold on, sir. We have a right to know what's going on!
Piett: Wait, when did we bring back General Veers?
Calvin Coolidge: What?
Piett: Doesn't he look like General Veers?
Herve: Sadly, thanks to that grand adventure with Wookieepedia, I know what this means. And [sighs] yeah, he totally does.
Calvin Coolidge: Context, gentlemen! This warrants some!
Piett: Never mind. Continue complaining. We'll get this likeness trending somehow.
Calvin Coolidge: They're madmen.
Gerald Ford: Maybe. But he's no Nixon.
Rutherford B. Hayes: You've torn us away from the afterlife, you rapscallions! We were reunited with our family and loved ones!
Martin Van Buren: How can you justify what appears to be a hideous violation of the laws of nature and God?!
Piett: The hows and why are insignificant, gentlemen.
James Buchanan: What about the what-fors, where-with-nots and tally-hos?
Herve: I'm going to kill one of these bastards if the old timey speak doesn't get dialed back a bit.
Piett: Gentlemen, please. If you want me to waste time with explanations, then fine. You've all been brought back to aid us in undoing great wrongs in American history! We would do it, but your fine expertise in this area was necessary.
Gerald Ford: You just called us obscure.
Piett: And who better to right these wrongs than the unexpected! Lincoln and Washington would bring too much attention, FDR wouldn't be able to get up any stairs, JFK would be accosted by too many women. But Hayes and Van Buren and Fillmore and even Ford.....you'd solve these problems with nary a glance happened upon you!
Millard Fillmore: Now you're being condescending.
Herve: Ooh, I do like him too. And he's telling the truth. People these days are so stupid they barely know the famous ones anymore. So if anything, you'd be doing a better job by being even more unknown to the general populace.
Calvin Coolidge: So we're the most obscure of them all? Depressing, really.
Herve: No. You were just the ones we could bring back successfully. Others were attempted but weren't viable.
Piett: Herbert Hoover was close, but....that didn't go well.
Herve: The processor glitched in the middle of his revival. He's literally a big pile of pink fleshy goo now. [points to a small green bucket in the corner] He's over there in that bucket, actually.
James Buchanan: Argh!!
Calvin Coolidge: We did not need to hear that!!
Gerald Ford: Who?
Martin Van Buren: [vomits, because he thinks he needs to outdo everyone else]
Rutherford B. Hayes: Horrifying!
Millard Fillmore: I want to drink it!
Piett: Man, I like...[chuckling]...I like this guy. Very dark with the humor. So now, is that a fine enough explanation for you?!
Rutherford B. Hayes: And when this mission, however complex, is complete...?
Piett: Yes, yes, you'll be back in the grave with your loved ones, and your remains still enshrined and honored by those who still remember you.
Herve: And hell, when it's all done maybe your legacies will even be a bit shinier for these missions you're about to embark upon.

[A long, and possibly dramatic (filled with much soul-searching and ponderment), pause.]

Calvin Coolidge: Alright then, I'm fine with this.
Martin Van Buren: As am I.
Rutherford B. Hayes: I agree with my colleagues.
Millard Fillmore: Well if we're doing the roll call of acceptance, then sure what the hell.
Piett: Can I keep you? Please?
Herve: Now let's get a....wait, where's Franklin Pierce?
Gerald Ford: Who's that?
Herve: The schtick's gotten old, Gerry. Shut up now.
Piett: He's over in that corner. Hold on, I'll get him.

[Piett walks over, and sees that Franklin Pierce is huddled in the corner.....sobbing. He kneels down next to the president and puts his arm on his shoulder.]

Piett: Hey....hey there, buddy. What's the matter?
Franklin Pierce: I'm...I'm too obscure for even this congregation of obscure presidents. What good am I to them? To you? To anyone??
Piett: Hey now there, big guy. Lemme tell you something. [scoots up next to him, puts his arm around him] Let me tell you about a really useless president. His name was William Henry Harrison, and he got a cold at his own inauguration and died about a month later. That's it. Those who bother to remember history know him as "shithead who got the cold at his own party and died from it." And if we had brought him back, he'd just complain and gripe the whole time about that, or just go on about how he feels under the weather all the time. But you....you have a relatively clean slate. What did you do? I don't know. And no one else does either. But now you can do things now that will characterize you with even greater honor for future generations.
Franklin Pierce: But I have a college named after me. Surely I am remembered by someone?
Piett: You have a college in Middle of Nowhere, New Hampshire, where even the cellphone satellites can't locate. That so does not count.
Franklin Pierce: Well.....[stands up].....I suppose I'll do what I can.
Piett: There's a trooper. Now go on, join up with the rest.

[Franklin Pierce runs back to the presidential group, where they welcome him with open arms and hand clasps. Millard Fillmore rolls his eyes, and Piett falls in love with him even more or something. They activate a portal that opens up closely behind the group.]

Martin Van Buren: So when we get to....wherever we're going?
Piett: Don't worry. I think you'll recognize the destination very well when you arrive.
Herve: You'll know who to meet up with, too. Just think about it.
Rutherford B. Hayes: Farewell, comrades.
James Buchanan: We shall do you proud!
Gerald Ford: Bye bye!

[The presidents enter the portal, which, as the last of them disappear into the light, shuts quickly behind them. As it does, Cosmos and Chronos emerge from the ether beside Piett, Herve and the deactivated Resurrectron 5000.]

Chronos: Did you bring those presidents back yet?
Cosmos: Oh shit, did you break the Resurrectron?!
Piett: It crashed while Hoover was being revived.

[Silence.]

Piett: That was a presidential joke.

[Still silence.]

Piett: Never mind. Yeah, we're done.
Chronos: Good. Because we can only take so much of these fucking On Demand highlights and media crap. If I see another Hunger Games interview, I'm gonna do awful things to myself.
Herve: Don't you already do that?
Chronos: Says one to know one.
Herve: That makes so little sense, if any. You need to understand that every thought in your brain doesn't need to exit your mouth and embarrass the rest of us.
Chronos: Fuck me sideways, dude, that smarts.
Herve: Eh, this old timey president shit really got to me.
Cosmos: But you didn't want to do this job. It's your own doing you had to go to these bounds.
Piett: We......we just can't find a way to give a shit about this adventure. I mean, history is cool, and politics.....eh.
Herve: No, history and politics suck.
Piett: Whatevs. But we're totally not feeling this one.
Herve: The Hall of Presidents thing was enough.
Piett: Yeah, the Hall of Presidents thing was enough.
Herve: So we said, get these assholes to do it, and see how it goes.
Piett: Plus I'm scheming and plotting and stuff. Big hush hush thing.
Cosmos: Right.
Piett: No really, I am.
Chronos: Fair enough. Think they'll get the job done?
Piett: And if they don't?
Cosmos: Eh. No big loss. We'll get by somehow. Now let's get back to Walking Dead, please.
Herve: Is this the episode where Shane dies?
Cosmos: And I'm out.
Piett: Oh brother, another dork who never read the comics.
Chronos: Just think about that sentence, Piett.
Herve: Now that's a good one, Chronos. Say more shit like that, please.
Chronos: I.........nope, nothing. Shutting up now.
Herve: He learns....[pats Chronos on the shoulder confidently]....he learns.

*******

Piett: Seriously. I'm really gonna try to get this Coolidge/General Veers thing trending. How does one do that?
Herve: Something with hashmarks and twits and.....I don't know.

*******

[And back to Washington D.C. again. On the front lawn of the White House, the 7 ex-dead presidents appear thanks to the magic of space, time and shoddy descriptive writing.

Gerald Ford: ....and that's how American history has progressed since the early 1800's.
Millard Fillmore: Ok, I'm going to assume you're an idiot because much of what you said is just mindless drivel. Not to mention that the odd spacemen seemed to clearly state you were an idiot anyway, but now I know for certain. [scoffs] I mean, men on the moon? We can barely manage affairs on Earth, why are we flying off into the unknown?
Gerald Ford: You're not a happy man nor have you ever been one.
Millard Fillmore: I just want a hug.

[No one gives him a hug. He scoffs and carries on. As they look around, they also notice that Rutherford B. Hayes looks very different.]

Franklin Pierce: Good lord, did you shave your board off?!
James Buchanan: And when....and how?!!?
Rutherford B. Hayes [perplexed, with hands on face]: I....don't know! Although it's nice to finally feel my chin and mouth after 100 years!
Martin Van Buren: This entire affair has been a colossal expenditure of my wits and patience. When I go back to the grave, I intend on speaking to our Lord about doing something about all this nonsense.
Franklin Pierce: I've met God. And Jesus. They're nice, although a lot more Jewish than I'd have realized.
Martin Van Buren: God? By the depths no, I speak of Cthulhu.
Gerald Ford: Cthulhu?
Martin Van Buren: Yes. The dreaming Great Old elder god of R'lyeh. The--
James Buchanan: Just stop.
Martin Van Buren: What?
James Buchanan: I've been dead almost 150 years, but even I know the Cthulhu thing just needs to take a rest.
Calvin Coolidge: I fear something is dreadfully wrong here.
Martin Van Buren: As I was in the middle of exp--
Calvin Coolidge: No. I mean.....look where we are.

[Coolidge points to the building they've all apparently missed: the White House. They are startled.]

Gerald Ford: Hey, I know this place.
Calvin Coolidge: Shouldn't there be Secret Service?
Millard Fillmore: A what?
Calvin Coolidge: Security. Where is it all?
James Buchanan: Oh, look at him Millard. "Presidents get security and presumably always have." How droll.
Millard Fillmore: You're James Buchanan, man. You have absolutely no right to mock anyone.
Franklin Pierce: The same could be said for you and I as well, Millard.
Rutherford B. Hayes: Bazinga. [pause] Heh, that was fun to say with no facial hair. By Jove, why didn't I ever shave *before*??
Martin Van Buren [looking upwards]: By Yog-Sogoth, what is THAT?!?!

[As Buchanan slaps Van Buren, all eyes quickly peer upwards, as suddenly into view appears a presidential helicopter.]

Everyone except Calvin Coolidge and Gerald Ford: DEMONRY!!!! AARRRGGGHHHHH!!!!!

[Pierce, Van Buren, Fillmore, Hayes and Buchanan all scatter to and fro as the helicopter lands. Pierce is even flung a bit by the strength of the winds. Coolidge and Ford run off to the side but in a far more calm manner. They are all intercepted by Secret Service officers, who detain the presidents at gunpoint.]

*******

[Some time later, in a holding cell somewhere in the bowels of the White House. With an armed guard standing outside their cell, the presidents sit in an uncomfortable silence. No one can bear to look at each other. Several minutes pass. Finally, Millard Fillmore clears his throat and decides to speak.]

Millard Fillmore: Alright, so we need to talk about the anal intrusion.
Rutherford B. Hayes [to Pierce]: Pay up. I knew he'd be the one to bring it up.
Franklin Pierce: If I had any legal tender or bank notes on me, they'd all be yours.
Millard Fillmore: Tell me your Secret Service didn't do that to people who violated security.
Calvin Coolidge: No. [shifts uncomfortably in seat] That's a new one to me.
James Buchanan: For the love of all that is holy, this country must really be in some awful place if that kind of act is considered an acceptable action for the chief executive's security force.
Voice: There's a lubrication joke there. But I won't make. Nosiree. Not after the last time I made one.
Martin Van Buren: Who's that? Who's there?
Franklin Pierce [softly]: Is there really a joke in there? Do I want to know?
Voice: I'm the vice president of the United States.
James Buchanan: Goodness! What are you doing down here? Has there been a coup d'etat?!
Voice: No, we're not French yet. Still Americans.
Gerald Ford [to himself]: A man after my own heart...
Voice: This is where the big guy sends me after I make a fool of myself in public. I make gaffes when I talk. Lots of them. So I'm down here quite a lot, to think about what I've done. As you can guess, I've done little thinking down here. [if you could hear eyes roll, you'd here them precisely at this point] They considered brain surgery, to smartenize me, but no one knows if his health care program would pay for that either.
Rutherford B. Hayes: I sense more context is needed here, but from the sounds of it this nimrod should be happy he knows how to breathe and not choke to death whenever he speaks.
Voice: You have no idea how many people say exactly that, friend.
Rutherford B. Hayes [aside, to Coolidge]: Ugh, now I'm his friend.
Calvin Coolidge: Look.....since you're obviously able to leave this place, any chance you could do so now....and take you with us?
Voice: Sure, chum, why not? [yells] Guard!

[The Secret Service agent walks over to the other holding cell and opens it. Indeed, a few seconds later Joe Biden - Vice-President of the United States - walks over to the other cell which contains the ex-dead presidents.]

Joe Biden: Ok, you can release these fine gentlemen. They pose no harm to us or anyone.
Agent: Mr. Vice President. Uh, hold on a moment. You can go, but these men were trespassing and I have my orders to--
Joe Biden: I can vouch for them. Executive priviledge and all, right?
Agent: I'm still not sure--
Joe Biden: Look, agent, they're, um....time travelers.
Agent: Time travelers.
Joe Biden: Yes. From the, um, past. They're here to observe and report back to their eras in order to better improve their society and ensure our American destiny is properly fulfilled.....

[Joe Biden coughs, as Calvin Coolidge and the others' eyes widen. The agent, looking at them with a stern face devoid of any emotion, nods, and Biden happily waves the others over as their cell door opens.]

Joe Biden: Like that, guys? Even though my bs gets me in trouble up there, it works wonders down here. [chuckles] Time travelers. Heh. Sometimes I amaze even myself.
Millard Fillmore: Yes.....amazing. [eyes widen] That's the word I'd use to describe all this.

[Calvin Coolidge elbows Fillmore in the side, as the group leaves the detention area.]

*******

[In the White House proper, Joe Biden walks with the group of dead presidents through the hallways. To most of their astonishment, staffers and Secret Service agents pass them by with nary a concern. They walk past a group of tourists on the White House tour, and not a single head turns in recognition. One bored young boy, probably thinking about Handy Manny or Pokemon or Spongebob Squarepants, stares blindly at the group. Millard Fillmore flips him off, and the boy cries to his mother about "that awful white man." The mother, though, silences him, because all white people are awful and, really, just accept it and move on, dickhead.]

Martin Van Buren: You are just a contemptable human being, Mr. Fillmore.
Millard Fillmore: I need something to fill the space where my legacy should be. So I fill it with angst.
James Buchanan: So wait, is this Biden dimwit the contact we were supposed to meet?
Rutherford B. Hayes: The space weirdos seemed bizarre, but I doubt they'd be stupid enough to make this blunderer their contact. I suspect it's someone else.
Gerald Ford: This place is bringing back some memories.......have I been here before?
Martin Van Buren: Seriously, what kind of electorate put this man in office?!
Joe Biden: You know, Mr.....Coolidge, was it? You remind me of someone.
Calvin Coolidge [sighs]: I would think so, sir. I'm--
Joe Biden: Were you in For Your Eyes Only?
Calvin Coolidge: What?
Joe Biden: You were. With the fiddler on the roof guy.....Interpol. Or was it Cobol... You know his name. What's he like?
Calvin Coolidge: Ok, I seriously don't know--

[The group stops, and they realize that they are very near the executive office itself.]

Joe Biden: Well, here we are. The main event.
Gerald Ford: Wait, did they make the Oval Office a boxing ring now?
Martin Van Buren: Please let me kill him!

[James Buchanan kinda has to restrain him, but really Van Buren's lunging at Ford just for show.]

Millard Fillmore: This Cthulhu must just like attention whores, I guess.
James Buchanan: On that I think we can finally agree.
Calvin Coolidge: I believe this is where we meet our contact.
Joe Biden: Your "conta--

[Rutherford B. Hayes smashes Joe Biden over the head with a bust of Zachary Taylor.]

Rutherford B. Hayes: Shazam!
Franklin Pierce: Ahhh!
Calvin Coolidge: What did you do?!
Millard Fillmore: Never mind that! If our contact is in here, let's get to it and get out this nonsensical adventure!!

[Fillmore barges into the Oval Office. And behind the desk sits--]

Millard Fillmore: The FUCK?!?!?!
Rutherford B. Hayes: What is THIS?!!!
Martin Van Buren: Dreaming god, this is MOST alarming!
James Buchanan: Horrors most FOUL!

[Pause]

Franklin Pierce [looks around]: Ok then, I guess I'll have to verbalize it. [ahems, then sarcastically yells] A BLACK PRESIDENT?!?!
Calvin Coolidge: Whoa, whoa, whoa. What?
Barack Obama: My God, it's true! You *were* coming!!
Millard Fillmore: Pshaw! I....I cannot believe what I'm seeing! What kind of America.....WHAT?!?!
Calvin Coolidge: Holy hell, [turns to Ford] is this really happening?!
Gerald Ford: I worked for Nixon. So this......really isn't shocking to me.
Calvin Coolidge: Thank you for agreeing this man--
Gerald Ford: The racism is nothing new to me usual executive office experience. Black guy as president, though, is a stunner.
Calvin Coolidge: Good lord, I am aghast at you, gentlemen! We are learned men all! How can the thought of an African American being President of these United States be so horrifying to you?!
Franklin Pierce: I *did* mockingly say my piece.
Calvin Coolidge: Shut up, backtracker!
Barack Obama: Gentlemen, please....
Calvin Coolidge: I apologize, Mr. President. This kind of racism is abhorent to me and unbecoming of any dignified man.
Gerard Ford: But it's commonplace on Fox News. [jolts in place] Holy shit, did I just make a witty and relevant statement?!? Did anyone hear me?!
Millard Fillmore: No one's listening to whatever you're saying, Ford.
Gerard Ford: Awww...
Barack Obama: Thanks for that, sir. But now, I need to give you the parameters of the mission. Now let me be clear....this is a dangerous mission, but I believe it's one of the utmost importance to America and the free world.

[Obama goes on about the mission. He speaks in normal and eloquent terms. He is passionate about what he says, and conveys it well to those listening. Some minutes later, after he's explained the task that they've been set out to accomplish, he stops and sits, while his captive audience stands silently. Finally, they speak.]

Millard Fillmore: He's....so inspirational.
Martin Van Buren: It's....it's like I feel hope and change coursing through my very body!
Gerald Ford: I think listening to him actually made me smarter.
Franklin Pierce: This must be like what Jesus was like.
James Buchanan: Pretty sure it's all bullshit, but I feel inclined to believe him because otherwise I'd be called a racist and I just don't need that stigma overshadowing everything I do and say.
Rutherford B. Hayes: I......I cannot do it.
Calvin Coolidge: What?
Rutherford B. Hayes: I cannot listen to these wonderous words and then just go on with my mundane existance. I require something more real and meaningful!
Barack Obama: Of course.
Rutherford B. Hayes: ......and a name change. That'd be nice too.
Barack Obama: It's done. And the rest of you?

[Like a crowd of children clamoring to Santa, the ex-dead presidents flock to Obama as a still-perplexed Calvin Coolidge looks on. With a nod, he grants their wishes, and they cheer. Secret Service agents open the door, and they all leave.]

Calvin Coolidge: And suddenly now I'm the one thinking he's just gonna kill us all in secret or something...
Millard Fillmore: You meanie.
Obama: Hang on.....Julian Glover, can you stay for a moment??

[Calvin Coolidge stops, and twitches a bit. The other presidents leave as he turns quickly back to Obama.]

Calvin Coolidge: No, I'm Calvin [ticks] Coolidge!
Barack Obama: No, you're......well, maybe you're not Julian Glover. Wow, you have such an uncanny resemblance to him.
Calvin Coolidge: People have been [tic] mistaking me for someone else this en-[tic]-entire ordeal. What's going on [tic] here?
Obama: Julian Glover's an actor. Juggernaut - Harry Potter something or other - Empire Strikes Back - Indiana Jones and the Last Cru.....sade....?

[Obama stops as Calvin Coolidge's slight tics and twitches are becoming very apparent. He is also in awe of the fact that Coolidge seems to be aging quite noticably before his very eyes. Before he can call for aid, Coolidge struggled and staggers forward, and grips Obama's shoulders.]

Calvin Coolidge: What's [tic] going [tic] on [tic]--!?!
Obama: Good lord!!
Calvin Coolidge: Wha-[tic]-what[tic]is[tic]ha[tic]ppe[tic]ning[tic]to[tic][tic]mee[tic]eee[tic]eeeeeeeEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!

[Obama freaks out as time itself catches up to Calvin Coolidge. Both men scream as Coolidge progresses from older gentleman to decrepid old man to withered corpse to skeletal remains. Obama breaks free of the now-very-dead man's grip, and Coolidge is flung across the Oval Office and smashes into pieces against the wall. A few feet away, the door to the office bursts open as Secret Service and other White House officials. Joe Biden comes to outside the other door and wanders in, then stops at what he sees. He points and angrily yells.]

Joe Biden: YOU KILLED JULIAN GLOVER!!!
Barack Obama: What?! No! He just....he.....I.....?!?
Joe Biden & the Secret Service: RRAAAARGHHHHHHH!!!!!

*******

[The next day, President Barack Obama is thrown out of office. Political chaos and hilarity ensue.]

*******

[The Space/Time Continuum. At what can be best described as the breakfast nook, Herve sits reading newspapers on his iDroidpadphone device, whose headlines detail the amazing events that have transpired in Washington D.C.. He calmly places it down and directs his attention to Piett, who is feasting on Eggos across from him.]

Herve: So let me get this perfectly straight...........you concocted this entire scheme to get Barack Obama thrown out of office.
Piett: How do you figure?
Herve: I don't. I'm only guessing. You know the media, they get barely anything right anyway and just assume and spin the rest. Let's just say it sounds entirely plausible that you used ex-dead presidents to get to the current sitting president, then used this sudden Julian Glover obsession and hedged a shitload of bets that not only would Obama know who he even was but that Julian Glover's death would enrage high level people in the American government into a maddening sense of presidential impeachment. No, getting him tossed for the health care or birther or other political nonsense isn't gonna work......no, a guy who looks like Walter Donovan dying in his office of extreme aging....THAT'LL DO IT.
Piett: And so it did. [eats Eggos]
Herve: So what else was planned?
Piett: The Secret Service agent and Joe Biden were robots. [eats Eggos] Oh, and the trigger in Coolidge's head to start dying when someone actually called him Julian Glover.
Herve: Of course. Though they're not mentioned here, except Joe Biden's head exploding when finding out he'd have to be president. Malfunction?
Piett: Something like that. Whatever.
Herve: And the failed uprising by what remained of his supporters, and all the violent insanity that resulted in the rise of The God-Emperor George W. Bush?
Piett: Totally unexpected and unintended. [eats Eggos] But HILARIOUS.

[Pause]

Herve: Goddamn, I hate your politics.
Piett: Dude, Palpatine was my Martin Luther King. Can you blame me?
Herve: No, but I can despise you.
Piett: Fair enough. [eats Eggos]
Herve: And what about the obscure presidents? What of them?
Piett: I like knowing there are dead presidents alive and well again, running around in 2012 with no idea what the fuck's going on and hopefully causing a lot of chaos.
Herve: And now the segue to them doing something a series of colossally stupid things.
Piett: Yup. [eats Eggos]

*******

[In California, Gerald Ford is reunited with his happy family. In central Africa, Franklin Pierce is helping UNICEF aid homeless and starving children (where he enjoys ample cellphone service). In Fremont, Ohio, Rutherford B. Hayes (now Marvin J. Helms) is the new caretaker of Spiegel Grove State Park. In New York City, James Buchanan has joined the supporting cast of Saturday Night Live as a background extra. Not to be outdone, Martin Van Buren finds his way to central Florida where he resides in Disney World's Hall of Presidents in the place of his own (and secretly discarded) animatronic figure. And in the streets of Niagara Falls, Ontario, the body of Millard Fillmore is found dead in the gutter. Coroners who find the body later say cause of death is just being a big meanie face who needed a good hug, eh. In America those coroners would be fired - or at least hired by CSI Miami as associate producers - but it's Canada, so no one either notices or give a shit.]

*******

Piett: DAMMIT! [realizes he spit out Eggos while yelling] DAMMIT!!
Herve: Well fuck you too, Walsh. We telegraph it for a change and you totally leave us hanging. Thanks a lot, dick.


*fin*











































































Monday, April 2, 2012

The Obscure Ones: PROLOGUE

[Early 2012. Beneath the United States Capitol building in Washington DC, 2 figures suddenly appear and quickly beging lurking around in relative silence. Within a few moments, they are at their destination: the crypt of the US Capitol. Originally intended to be the burial place of George Washington, it is now the home of a historical and presidential museum, and also serves as the home to 13 statues that represent the original colonies. The 2 beings move toward the middle of the crypt, and, confident that they are alone, break their silence.]


Herve: So you're saying this place isn't what it appears to be?
Piett: Yup. History says that Washington's body couldn't be reinterred here when it was finally built, but as you're about to witness, truth says....something different.


[Piett and Herve reach a marble compass in the middle of the room; geographically, it is the exact point where the 4 quadrants of the District of Columbia meet. Piett grabs the compass and, in what looks like a herculean feat of strength, begins to twist and turn the dials around.]


Herve: Jesus, that Shake Weight shit works miracles!
Piett: It's paper mache. Lightweight as hell.
Herve: Really? [looks around] Well, then these Do Not Touch signs work miracles!


[The dials suddenly stop moving and a loud series of clicks, whirs and grinding eminate from underground. They move only slightly at the sounds, all around them, echo throughout the empty corridors of the crypt. Then, with a furious vigor, over 30 devices loudly break through the stone floor and emerge into sight. Each device is labelled with a name, and Herve's eyes widen as he identifies many of them, and points at one in particular.]


Herve: Holy Magna Carta, Piett! It's.....these are....that's...!!
Piett: Toldja the truth says something different, Herve. It says that George Washington is very much here and has been for a long time.....and so is every single other dead president.
Herve: So.....we're doing this? Really doing this?!
Piett: Indeed. It's time to resurrect....


[Long dramatic pause!]


Piett: ....the weird ones.


[Pause]


Herve: Wait, what?!


...to be continued...

Sunday, April 1, 2012

April's Fool

[In the lounge, Piett is watching MY LITTLE PONY: FRIENDSHIP IS MAGIC. Don't ask why.........because it's awesome, that's why. Shut up!]


START AGAIN.


[Piett is watching MY LITTLE PONY: FRIENDSHIP IS MAGIC. Herve walks in.]

Herve: Dude, let's call your parents and tell them we're gay.
Piett: My parents died ages ago. Space AIDS.
Herve: Oh.

[Awkward pause.]

Herve: April Fool's?
Piett: I wouldn't. You have Space AIDS too.
Herve: .......what?

[Cosmos and Chronos enter.]

Cosmos: You totally do.
Chronos: Yeah. Sorry, the tests claim quite conclusively you are chock full of Space AIDS.
[2 figures appear on the television suddenly.]

Landozzel: HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!
HG Wells: That's cruel, Landozzel. [pause] Interuppting MLP:FiM like that. For shame, sir.
Landozzel: You even know the acronym? Dude.....

[They disappear. Then BOOM! a figure appear through a Boom Tube. To the shock of all, he looks different. Namely, no skirt and all armor.]

Darkseid: Sorry you have Space AIDS, Herve! [throws a Hallmark card and variant cover of Justice League #6 at him] I KNOW! Don't I look spiffy now?!?

[He BOOMS! away. The floor opens up.]

The Boss: See you soon, Herve. BWAHHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!!

[A cloud descends from Heaven.]

Cadmus: On behalf of God, allow me to say "BWAHHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!!"
The Boss: Unoriginal ass.

[More people enter through the door.]

Ben the Spider-Man: Sorry, Herve.
Webmaster: Sorry, dude.
RoboFrasier: My condolences, sir.
William Daniels: Sorry.
Will Friedle: FEEEEENAY!
George Gaynes: MAHONEY!
Supreme Pontiff Hook [makes a hand gesture]: Peace be with you or whatever.
Duplex: You just made a Nazi swatzika.
Supreme Pontiff Hook: I always do that.
Drork and Kfith: Happy birthday!
Joe Q. Public: Guh.
Captain Needa: Happy birthday.
Joe Q. Public: Didn't you hear me say "Guh"??
Villainess: Happy bi--
Joe Q. Public: GUH!!!!
Herve: Alright ENOUGH! I get it, it's April Fool's! You're trying to convince me that I have Space AIDS, which I'm pretty sure both does not exist and--well, that's it, it doesn't exist!
Tom Arnold: Hey, did I get here in time enough to s--

[Herve leaps at Tom Arnold and tears his throat out. Everyone looks on disapprovingly.]

Piett: Dude. Don't you get it?
Herve: What?
Piett: You keep doing THAT. The neck-biting thing. At some point..........you got Space AIDS from DOING THAT.
Herve: Wh....................WHAT?



























¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø,¸¸,ø¤°`°¤ø


Herve: So I really have Space AIDS, Walsh?


YES. YOU REALLY HAVE SPACE AIDS.


Herve: Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.


*fin*























































Friday, March 16, 2012

Quantum Piett vs. Jerry Springer (About 15 years too late, sure, but at least we got around to it....)

[The Stamford Media Center. Stamford, CT. Dozens of people pack a studio taping and cheer wildly as The Jerry Springer Show begins yet another taping of its 21st season. 2 individuals, though, are not horribly excited as they sit toward the back of the studio audience.]


Herve: Wait, Stamford? I thought you said we emerged in Chicago.
Piett: They moved the show to Stamford so they can tape this and a bunch of their other stuff in the same place. Saves money.
Herve: Shit, I wanted to go see the stuff Heath Ledger blew up in The Dark Knight, only to then go off and die in a NYC apartment.
Piett: That's sick, man. Come on. Honestly. Really, now........dude.


[Pause]


Herve: You're really offended by this.
Piett: No. I just couldn't think of anything witty enough to say about Heath Ledger overdosing. We didn't do this story soon enough to that "tragedy."
Herve: A lot about this story is gonna be very late to the game. We are at a Jerry Springer show after all. His schtick was outta style at least a decade ago.
Piett: And yet still he presses and depresses on.
Herve: So I take it the Springer Show doesn't rake in as much as he used to?
Piett: He's not the novelty act he used to be. So much shit on TV these days, he's nowadays just one of many, instead of a standout attraction that offends everyone.
Herve: Now everything on TV offends everyone. [pause] So maybe his ploy is to be unoffensive, so that THIS act stands out...
Piett: Just watch.


[As Springer comes out and the crowd cheers, the show begins. Piett sits back while Herve studies - with increasing distress - the actions going on around him. Some minutes later....]


Herve [aghast yet calm]: This is the same exact show he's always done.
Piett: Yup.
Herve: And it seems faker than ever.
Piett: Yup.
Herve: We could be at MAURY right now, dammit! He's apparently taping right next door or something!
Piett: Too many people in line for it. The unsavory kind.
Herve: Have you paid attention to our cast of characters these past several years? You'd think "unsavory" is something we're used to...
Piett: Oh, trust me, the MAURY audience is so much worse than our merry band of brothers.


[Fight bell rings]


Herve: What the hell was that?


[The people on stage start fighting.]


Herve: Oh my Christ, they have to be TOLD when to start fighting?! How dumb are these assholes?!
Piett: JERSEY SHORE is a respected television institution because of these assholes. They're not just dumb.....they're dangerous.
Herve: Wait, where's Steve - the bald security guy that broke up fights and everyone liked, including the people he muscled around on stage?
Piett: He has his own show now, also taping nearby.
Herve: And we're not there either?! Damn.
Piett: Actually, it's best we're not. It's very scary. He, like, confronts awful people directly and with a lot of talking.
Herve: And violence?
Piett: No. Just talking, with a strong sense of calm yet angered malice.
Herve: Awkward.
Piett: Very. That answer implies much creepiness.
Herve: If you can't just say violence, then yeah I agree. Is the fighting over?
Piett: I think so.


[Pause, as the taping goes to commercial break...........why would a taping have a commercial break? It's taped - they can just do a brief pause and then pretend to come back from commercial break.]


Herve: Is Walsh ranting in place of us now?
Piett: I don't blame him. This is all just so frustrating.
Herve: I'm gonna try something. [closes eyes]
Piett: Are you sleeping through SPRINGER? Wow, that's a damning statement.
Herve: No, I'm gonna try to zen ourselves to the end of this miserable endeavor.
Piett: What do you--


(!@#$%^&*)


Jerry Springer: And we're back, with questions from the audience. [to some random white guy in a business suit who is obviously either an actor playing a white businessman or some Stamford executive slumming at Springer on his lunch break]
Piett: What the shit did you just do?!
Herve: I just zenned our asses ahead a few segments to the end of the show.
Piett: But Walsh does that for us! We can just do this now?!


[No. I'm just bored with this already myself and let him do it.]


Herve: Snap.
Piett: Damn!


[As Piett rues the moment, Herve raises his hand.]


Jerry Springer: You, sir, have a question...?
Herve: Yeah, I have a question Jerry. What the fuck has happened to you?
Jerry Springer: Um, this isn't the kind of question and answer we--
Herve: No, no, you're gonna hear this. I mean.........come on, dude. You were mayor of a city once. And you host other decent and acceptable-to -society shows. You obviously have a good mind behind you, and seem to be a decent human being in real life. But what is this madness? This is dog shit.


[Piett sits back and pulls out a bag of popcorn]


Herve: This may have been entertaining once - though trust me, as I think back I strongly disagree that it was ever even slightly entertaining - but it's just truly awful now. And stale. And telegraphed so that even the braindead could follow it and the basic cadences without even having to try. And look at these people! They're obviously actors, or just so stupid that they don't realize the obvious reality that's glaring back at them the moment they get wind they're gonna be on this show. [to the stage] YOU'RE ON JERRY SPRINGER, PEOPLE! IF YOU DON'T KNOW SOMETHING IS WRONG WHEN YOU'RE BOOKED OR ASKED TO BE A GUEST ON THIS SHOW, THEN CLEARLY YOU SHOULD NOT BE ALLOWED TO DO NORMAL THINGS IN SOCIETY! [to the audience] And really, is this the only show you people could get into? I'd take Maury and his foolishly-dramatic pregnancy episode drivel over this any day! Even Steve and his creepy
unfunny and unentertaining show is probably miles ahead of this nonsense!
Jerry Springer: Well, you're here now, sir. Can you explain why you're here when you knew what kind of madhouse you'd be entering?
Herve: Because obviously I thought, like some things, old TV shows aged gracefully. But sometimes, Jerry, they rot. Terribly. You have the stink of death on you, sir. Shuffle off this mortal coil accordingly.


[Suddenly, Piett hits Springer with a chair.]


Piett: There's MY final thought, Jerry!!
Herve: Way to kill my fairly intelligent rant with needless violence, man. [pause] Oh, who cares. [to Springer, laid out on the ground] DAMN, SON, and it ain't the folding kind he hit you with either, son!


[The audience and guests and security and stagehands quickly turn on Herve and Piett, but Herve just pulls out a death ray gun and zaps all of them dead. In moments, the quantum duo are all alone, with remnants of slight chaos and the ashen remains of much of the audience silently laying around them. Herve nods in approval.]


Herve: Didn't even need to do the neck-biting thing. More floss for tomorrow.
Piett: You'd have caught something from this crowd, I think.
Herve: This was fun. Much more fun than MAURY. [still holding the death ray gun]: I still have an itchy trigger finger. Should we--?
Piett: Nah. Maybe some other time.


[Herve and Piett whisk themselves away. Meanwhile, over on the set of MAURY, some.......familiar faces await a perilous verdict.]


Maury: Boss............you are NOT the father!


[The Boss jumps up and starts dancing and celebrating, as his sister Lucy Ferr runs off stage crying, with Maury in pseudo-concerned pursuit. In the audience, there is chaos and celebration as The Boss high fives random black people and shady white trash. 2 people sit in the back, politely clapping yet somewhat concerned.]


Cosmos: So it's Piett, right? He's the father.
Chronos: Obviously, yeah. Why wouldn't she even realize that?
Cosmos: This may pan out to mean something in future stories.
[Pause]
Cosmos: Or not.
Chronos: Yeah, I hope not. Kids suck, we don't need 'em in the supporting cast. Assholes.




*fin*

Sunday, March 4, 2012

The Shadow Run of Scarlet and Black

[Piett walks by the entertainment room, when he hears......something odd on the TV. He stops and walks in on Herve watching..... something odd on the TV.]

Piett: What....what are you watching?

[He gets a closer look-see and...]

Piett: Oh no.
Herve: I'm watching SHADOW RUN, starring Michael Caine. And James Fox. And....
Piett: Please, just.....stop.
Herve: And Ken Colley!
Piett: Please.
Herve: Dude, it's your first scene in the movie and you're jacking to porn.
Piett: I am not! I'm--
Herve: You're what??
Piett: I'm.....just watching porn.
Herve: Aaaaaaaaahaha! You admited it!
Piett: Well, it's rather obvious the character is supposed to be watching it. No big secret with that audio.
Herve: Still, you confessed.
Piett: Guh, will you just get past this part and finish the movie?
Herve: Oh heck no. I already watched it. It's dreadful. A dreadful English movie with no closed captioning. Torture, I say. Isn't that right, Michael Caine?

[Herve looks to a man sitting in the lounger nearby. It is, indeed, Michael Caine.]

Michael Caine: Yes. That was a bad video distribution decision.
Piett: AHHH!!!
Michael Caine: Hello, Ken.
Piett: I don't go by that name anymore, Mike.
Michael Caine: Whatever, Ken. Anyway, the midget was belittling you.
Herve: Thank--hey!
Piett: Ha.
Herve: So that wasn't the worst of it, Piett. [pause] Can I call you Ken?
Piett: NO, NOW GET ON WITH IT!
Herve: Gah. So anyway, at one point I had to go check on something out of the room so I let it keep playing. I was gone for 10 minutes or so and when I got back the plot had not progressed at all. AT ALL. And at the end I was left trying to figure out what actually happened.
Piett: That sounds like a Netflix review.
Herve: Or a few put together, Ken. Because I go back in time and write them. [proudly, hands on his hips all hero-like] I can do that, you know.
Piett: Of course you can. [pause] Wait, so if you watched it, why were you back at this part?
Herve: I just went back to this part and waited until you came by.
Piett: Was it on pause.
Herve: No. I just kept looping it for a few minutes until you walked through, thus making it look like I was watching this part.
Piett: You.....you kept looping the part where I'm watching porn and, to over and over again.
Herve: I.....wait, what....no, you--
Piett: You were willingly watching that scenario, thinking I was jacking to porn.
Herve: No! I....you.....it....
Michael Caine: Yes. He was watching you possibly jack off.
Herve: He was not doing that!!!!
Piett: Gotcha.
Herve: You....bastard!
Michael Caine: Can I go now? This has just been a ridiculous affair. Much like SHADOW RUN, I'm afraid.
Piett: Sure. Thanks for the help, Mike.
Herve: Wait, wha? Did....did you manufacture this whole scheme??
Piett: It's like I time travelled loops around you and had him come here to back me up whilst making you think he was here to back you up. See? [proudly, hands on his hips all hero-like] I can do that too.
Herve: Fuck you.
Michael Caine: This makes no sense, and establishes a lot of nonsensical plot movements that cannot, even with the full power of science fiction storytelling behind it, be remotely possible. [pause] Makes more sense than THE SWARM, though.
Herve: You take that back. That was a fantastically ridiculous disaster movie.
Piett: Yeah. And leagues better than BEYOND THE POSIDEON ADVENTURE.
Michael Caine: Alright, I'll give you that one. Cheer, mates.

[Michael Caine waves as vanishes into the ether.]

Piett: How did he do that? Did he even have a time travel device? Did either of us give him one?
Herve: He's Michael Caine. Just stand in awe and wave back, Ken.
Piett: Never call me that again, midget.
Herve: Bastard. Just wave.

[And they do.]


*fin*





Herve: Hey, can we watch the movie where you dress up like a nun?
Piett: Almost forgot that movie was part of the title too, huh?
Herve: Yup. So can we?
Piett: It's a Nazi movie. I play a Nazi in it....
Herve: ...who momentarliy dresses as a nun to get to Gregory Peck....
Piett: Why are we still talking and not WATCHING THIS ALREADY!!!
Herve: Yay, Piett, yay!


*fin*