[MSTing] The A-Team? At CHIPPENDALES?!? (3 of 8)
peasporr...@hotmail.com
<< Part 3 of 8 >>
[Gypsy and Scratch enter the theater. Pearl, unsteady and achy,
returns, her
head reattached to her very own body.]
GYPSY: You OK, Pearl? How's the graft taking?
PEARL (moaning): I think my neck's out of place.
SCRATCH: I thought it was back IN place. Jeez, make up your mind!
PEARL (threatening): You know how you're not in pain right now?
Cherish this
moment.
>SOMETHING IN THE STRING OF G
>by Lori Beatty
>
>
MADGE: Oh, Shirley MacLain's brother's... sister.
GYPSY: Ergh. There should be a term for when even the title makes your
stomach
heave.
PEARL: There is. A Jim Varney movie.
>The room was not quite elegant.
SCRATCH: Well don't hire Alice Cooper as your decorator.
>Chrome and glass furniture
>didn't exude the correct amount of quality that was needed to turn the
>spacious office into the epitome of a decorator's delight.
PEARL: As long as we're defining negatives, this paragraph ain't
exactly G.B.
Shaw, either.
> The plush sofa resembled Thomasville
>but said Levitz instead. The vertical blinds, neatly strung along the
>expanse of glass reeked of J.C. Penny, not Levalor.
MADGE: The beer looked less filling, but said "tastes great!"
GYPSY: The floor looked like butter, but said "parquet"!
[ALL groan.]
MADGE: I will never look at you the same way again, Gyps.
>The over-all effect was one of ersatz wealth and business success.
SCRATCH: His office was a Planet Hollywood?
> The taste was good but lacked the quality to stamp it true office of
> the well-to-do entrepreneur.
MADGE: Oh, like Stephen J. Cannel's office!
>
>Hannibal Smith puffed on his cigar and watched the President of
>Ardoyne Industries pace behind his desk.
PEARL: "Ardoyne"?
MADGE: Ardoyne.
PEARL: "ARDOYNE"?!?
GYPSY: Well, it sorta looks like "Androsynth". Maybe it's an homage to
Star
Control.
PEARL: Yeah, if you're a stupid sucky moronhead.
>"Business is growing, Smith," the tall slender man said confidently.
> "Slowly, but it IS growing."
>
>"Our reports have been very satisfactory," Colonel Smith smiled. "We
> have no complaints, Clayton."
SCRATCH: Except your name. That's gotta go.
GYPSY: No, "Clayton"! It's Dr. Forrester! His ascension to star baby
ended in
his becoming a fanfic character!
PEARL: Hmph. Figures. Loser.
>
>"Good, good," Ardoyne said nervously. "But there is a small, short-
>term problem."
MADGE: We dumped our profits in Dogbert's "low risk" mutual funds, and
forgot to
ask low risk for who.
> His green eyes darted sideways to his partner.
>
>Hannibal pulled the cheroot from his mouth and asked,
PEARL (Hannibal): What the hell was THAT doing there?
>"Problem?"
>
>"Yeah. Nothing serious, but as an owner of 10 percent of Ardoyne
>Industries, I felt you should be appraised of the situation."
SCRATCH: The majority holders we keep clueless as domesticated turkeys.
>
>Hannibal felt a tug of concern at the back of his mind.
GYPSY (Hannibal): Did I leave the oven on? Oo, I think my beans are
burning!
> Clayton
> Ardoyne had hired the team over five years ago to help rid himself of
>a none-too-honest cousin bent on taking over his then fledgling
>business interests.
MADGE: Ever notice how on TV, no one goes to the cops first?
GYPSY: Maybe cops only exist on cop shows.
SCRATCH: Well what about the ones that arrest the protagonists for
crimes they
didn't commit?
PEARL: I think that's a separate branch. You know, Narcotics,
Homicide,
Idiopathic Plot Indictments?
> As payment, the team had accepted 10 percent of
>the profits from Ardoyne Industries, for the next 15 years, whereupon
>their investments could either be renewed or sold off to other
>interested parties.
MADGE: Interested parties? In a Cannel plot?
> Clayton had parlayed his early small endeavors
>into six larger and very successful concerns ranging from a glass and
>window frame company to a night club and even a small boutique on
>Rodeo Drive.
GYPSY: It only resembled a small boutique on Rodeo Drive. Actually it
was a
newspaper stand in a Manhattan subway station.
> The profits from the various concerns had swelled the
>Team's retirement funds considerably.
SCRATCH: What color is your parachute?
PEARL (B.A.): White, fool! I jump outta planes in it! You got a
problem
widdat?
SCRATCH: (nervous, scared) I-gee-well-heh...
> When old age set in
>on the various members of the infamous A-Team, they could steal away
>to some safe, peaceful island
PEARL (as Montalban): I am Mr. Rourke, your host! Have you heard the
Klingon
saying, 80's television is a dish best served cold?
>or some quiet mountain retreat and
>spend their twilight days in comfort.
GYPSY: Oo, think of all the criminals that are gonna crawl out of the
woodwork
the week before the A-Team retires!
>Thoughts of the years ahead were not all the exciting to Hannibal,
>though, so he quickly turned his mind back toward his business
>associate.
MADGE (Hannibal): Hm, his butt would make good pet meat... his liver
must be
worth $20 K on the organ market...
> Clayton had called him in for a meeting--a matter of profits--so
>Colonel Smith wanted to pay close attention. "What situation are you
>referring to, Clayton?" Hannibal asked.
>
>Ardoyne looked sheepishly at the leader of the Team.
PEARL: Adult bladder control? There IS help.
>"Cash flow."
>
>Hannibal's eyes narrowed and he frowned.
>
>"See, the glass company needed a boost,
GYPSY: The Exxon "Thin Red Line" commemorative glasses weren't the hit
we'd been
counting on.
> costs have risen and demands have dropped sharply. The housing
>industries, you know. So, I had to divert some funds..."
>
>"Uh, Clayton, just get to the point," Hannibal urged.
SCRATCH: Yeah, screw that diverting funds crap! What can *we* do about
the
demand for glass?
>
>With a deep sigh, Clayton dropped into a chair behind his Montgomery
>Ward desk.
>
GYPSY: His office is pregnant!
MADGE (laugh): I don't think so.
> "The night club is in a jam."
>
SCRATCH (Homer Simpson): Mmmmm... jam.
>"Out of liquor?" Hannibal grinned.
PEARL: Got booze?
>
>"I only wish. No. It's not that easy. Most of the waiters are
>aspiring actors or singers."
MADGE: Or fanfic writers.
>"Who in L.A. isn't?"
GYPSY: Andie MacDowell?
SCRATCH: Yowch!
>
>"True. Well, seems Paramount Pictures is casting for Chorus Line
SCRATCH (sings): One! Crappy little movie! Ruining a Broadway play!
>and
>hired away two of my dancers and four of my waiters. That leaves the
>club really on a skeleton crew."
PEARL: Well tell'em to stop dramatizing a Stephen King compilation and
get to
work!
>
>"Hire new waiters," Smith said bluntly.
>
>"It's not that simple, Hannibal. These waiters are a bit unusual.
MADGE: They don't use trays. They regurgitate the food into the
diner's open
mouths.
>The club has a certain ambiance, a look. The waiters have to...fit
>the image or the place will lose its clientele."
PEARL: I see... You're a gay bar, aren't you?
>
>"Is this the club in Culver City?"
SCRATCH: Oh yeah, just the place aspirin' actors wait tables. CULVER
CITY!
GYPSY (sings): Hoo-ray for HACK-ensack!
>
>"Yeah. And I don't have to tell you how lucrative it is.
>If I don't get some help soon, before the weekend, I'll have to ask
>Tom to close it down. We can't afford to lose that weekend's
>profits."
GYPSY: Huh? He'd shut down his cash cow because of ONE WEEK of profits?
MADGE: Eh. Sounds like traditional American business strategy to me!
>Hannibal nodded his head thoughtfully.
PEARL (Hannibal, thinking): Aw, man, I have no idea what he's talking
about!
Keep nodding! Smile!
> He was only too aware of the
>large amounts of money the club brought in. Even one weekend's losses
>would be disastrous. Though he couldn't for the life of him figure
>out what was so great about one small club in a place like Culver
>City.
GYPSY: And questions would just deepen his ignorance!
>With a broad smile, Hannibal held his cigar aloft.
PEARL (commercial): Action Smoker! New! From Kenner!
MADGE (quickly, softly): Action-Smoker-Biopsy-Kit-and-Action-Smoker-
Tracheotomy-
sold-seperately.
> "No
>problem, Clayton. I'll call the team and we'll fill inform ya till
>you can hire new waiters."
SCRATCH (Clayton): I don't need you to "fill inform" me, I'm the one
who told
you!
>Clayton's eyes narrowed. "Are you sure?"
>
>"Yeah. Will the four of us be enough to keep the place open?"
GYPSY: No, we'll also need a small precocious black kid who's a whiz at
computers.
>
>"I think so. But Hannibal, these waiters, they're...different."
>
>Hannibal blew the remark aside. "Waiters, smaiters.
[All chuckle.]
MADGE: Goyim! Oy gevalt!
> It's a piece of cake."
PEARL: Well, a piece of Little Debbie cake, made six months ago, that
tastes
like wax-frosted cardboard.
SCRATCH (Homer): Mmm... individually wrapped cardboard cake.
>
>"Then there's the matter of the dancer."
ALL: ZORBA!
>
>Rising, Hannibal walked to Arodyne's side placing a friendly hand on
>his shoulder. "Now, Clayton, have you ever run across anything
>Faceman couldn't do?" he grinned.
MADGE: Well, there was that time he ran Al D'Amato's reelection
campaign, and
when he told Berke Breathed "Outland" would be bigger than "Bloom
County".
>
>"Face?" Clayton looked dubious. "I don't know, Hannibal. This isn't
>the usual set up that Face likes to tackle."
PEARL: Since it doesn't involve inflatable customers.
>
>"Nonsense. Consider the matter solved. We have an investment to
>protect."
GYPSY: Tell me again why four wanted homicidal mercenaries are
preferable to the
10,000 out-of-work actors referenced earlier?
MADGE: Umm... an out-of-work actor has dignity?
[All laugh long, and loud, and clear.]
GYPSY: Wa-hah! Seriously, though...
>
>Clayton was still skeptical. "Well, I really do need help. I hate to
>ask you guys, but I'm in a bind. It'll just be for the weekend."
>
>"Clayton," Smith said, clasping a firm hand on the slender man's
>shoulder, "stop worrying. Now, where do we go and how soon do we need
>to be there?"
PEARL: Immediately, and off a short pier.
>
>"Well, the dancer should really go over as soon as possible--to work
> out a routine. The rest of you can pick up your...uniforms on
> Thursday.
MADGE: Why is he always... pausing like that?
SCRATCH: Do you think it might... mean something?
> I'll tell the manager, Tom Watters, you'll be coming."
PEARL: What is this? "Watters"? "Ardoyne"? Does Beatty have surname
myopia or something?
>
>"Great." Hannibal beamed. "We've been idle of late.
SCRATCH: No, Chapman's of late. Idle's still with us.
GYPSY: That was of suboptimal taste.
SCRATCH: Oh, Graham would've loved it.
> This'll be a
>nice, safe, change of pace."
>
>Clayton averted his eyes. "It'll be a change of pace all right," he
>muttered under his breath.
>
>"What's that?"
MADGE (Darryl Hannah, "Roxanne"): Irony.
GYPSY (Steve Martin): Oh, irony! Right. No. We don't get that here.
>
>"Nothing," Clayton replied quickly. "Just remember, Hannibal, it's
> for a good cause: profits."
SCRATCH: Ha! Naked greed IS fun.
>
>Hannibal saluted that remark with a jab of his smoking cigar.
>"Gottcha."
PEARL: Action Smoker!
MADGE: Action-Smoker-Discolored-Phlegm-not-included.
>
>Clayton watched the Colonel walk jauntily from the room and close the
>door.
[All snicker.]
SCRATCH: If anyone from the A-Team walks 'jauntily', I'd think it would
be BA.
You know, what with his hyperactive machismo overcompensating for his
latent-
GYPSY: Please don't put these things in my head. It's such a happy
head! It
doesn't need this.
> Then he sagged into his desk chair and sighed heavily.
PEARL (Clayton, sighing): Five o'clock and Dick Clark hasn't called.
Maybe I'm
not cut out to be a game show celebrity.
> Maybe
>he should have warned Hannibal about the club. It didn't seem fair to
>spring it on him. Still, if he knew, he might not have been so eager
>to help out. And after all, they were both in this partnership for
>the money.
MADGE: And as a "good guy", Hannibal will see that money makes deceit
OK!
> His uneasiness remained, but he consoled himself with the
>knowledge that Hannibal Smith was adaptable. Life had tossed a vast
>assortment of surprising things his way, and he'd always come out on
>top. Surely a few screaming hysterical women wouldn't be beyond his
>cope.
>
>Or would it?
>
SCRATCH (transition): Dooddly-doodly-doodly...
PEARL (Hannibal, crying): These women are hysterical! I can't cope! I
can't
cope!
>
>
>"A waiter?" Face moaned. "Ahh, Hannibal. Why not Maitre 'd?"
MADGE: 'Cuz it's Mongolian barbecue, dumbass.
>
>"They don't have one."
>
>"But a waiter?"
>
GYPSY: It's so bourgeois!
>
>"Come on, Face, it's only for the weekend. Just Friday and
Saturday.
PEARL: Sunday is our holy day of rest, when we watch ladies' wrestling
and shoot
prairie dogs.
>Think of it as protecting your interests. You know that club of
>Clayton's accounts for over 50 percent of his industry's profits."
>
SCRATCH: Glass factory theme restaurants were just so 1981.
PEARL (ruefully): I know.
>"I know, but Hannibal..."
>
>The Colonel ignored him as B.A. pulled the rented ambulance into the
>porticoed side of the V.A. Hospital. "Okay, B.A., here's you papers.
>Just go in, present them at the desk and they'll release Murdock to
>you."
GYPSY: Why is a schizoid freaked-out maniac on something called "The A-
Team"? Wouldn't your "A-Team" pilot be someone whose copilot wasn't
his imaginary friend Punchy?
PEARL: Well, it's a rag-tag band of misfits kind of a deal.
>B.A. gazed doubtfully at the sheaf of official-looking documents.
>
> "It's okay, B.A.," Face spoke up. "I took them from a doctor at UCLA
>Medical Center. They're all legal.
MADGE: Well, the papers are. You'll be committing a class "D" felony.
>Except, I changed the name, of course. And the time. And the date.
SCRATCH (snippy ticket agent): And the seat assignment, and the flight
number,
and you don't get a meal and you're now in smoking.
PEARL: Action Smoker!
MADGE: Action-Smoker-Feelings-of-Isolation-sold-separately.
> I had to do that too, ya know, but it's all in order. Captain H.M.
>Murdock is scheduled to undergo a new experimental treatment program
>designed to reduce neurotic tendencies in combat veterans."
GYPSY: What, you mean paintball?
> Face smiled confidently.
>
>B.A. groaned.
SCRATCH: Hannibal gave a rude cheer to the heavens and made love to the
cold,
damp lawn, in awe of his own ennui.
>Hannibal gestured for the sergeant to be on his way then turned to
>smile at the lieutenant. "Nice, Face. Your mind is a veritable
>bottomless pit."
GYPSY (Tom Smothers): Thank you very much!
MADGE (Dick Smothers): That's not a compliment.
>
>"Thanks, Colonel." His quick smile faded when he took a moment to
>rethink that remark. "I think."
>
>Hannibal Smith chuckled.
SCRATCH: Ha! What sport it is, watching Cannel characters parse three-
syllable
words!
PEARL: OK, cue theme music variation, a thirty-second overhead pan on
an
unidentified city, and... next scene!
>
>The exchange at the nurses' station went off without a hitch. Not
> that anyone in their right mind would have dared challenge the
> validity of the papers the hulking black man presented.
GYPSY: Security guards do tend to accommodate menacing black males.
That's why
Giuliani's so popular!
>
>Scowling, B.A. trudged into Murdock's room and saw the pilot quickly
>snap off the VCR that adjoined his portable TV set. "Come on, fool.
>Let's get out of here.
SCRATCH (B.A.): I'm gonna miss "All My Children"!
>
>Murdock chewed his lip thoughtfully and sauntered lazily toward his
>friend. "B.A., has the colonel said much more to you about this club
>we'll be working in?"
>
>"No. Now get in this wheelchair so we can get."
PEARL: -that lovely bed-and-breakfast we've always talked about
starting.
>But Murdock wouldn't be hurried. "He hasn't mentioned anything about
>what we'd be doing in this club?"
>
>"No! It's a night club, sucker.
SCRATCH (preppy): I called you sucker because I'm black!
>We'll be serving drinks."
ALL: -fool!
>"Come here, Big Guy. I have something to show you."
>
GYPSY (sings): Sooooome enchanted evening!
MADGE (laughing): Oh-ho-ho, no!
>"Don't got no time for nonsense from some crazy fool like you.
ALL: -sucker!
>Hannibal is waiting," the sergeant grumbled.
>
>"It'll only take a minute, and I happen to think that what I'm about
> to impart to you will cast new light upon the assignment our leader
> has so hastily assigned to us."
>
>"Huh?"
>
SCRATCH: Why is Murdock talking like Kelsey Grammer?
PEARL (laughs): I don't know.
>Murdock crooked his finger, motioning the sergeant to approach the TV.
>"When Hannibal first told me about our little adventure, something in
>my brain clicked into place.
GYPSY: Oh, he got himself a "Loc-Tite" brain.
> I had a feeling about it." B.A. frowned.
>"Now, the VA has a vast assortment of video tapes- an extensive
>library.
PEARL (Murdock): All government agencies are awash with money, what
with it being the Reagan era.
>So, I paid a visit there yesterday and located...This!" He held up an
>empty jacket from a VHS tape.
ALL (as musical sting): DUN-DUN!
MADGE: Aw, blast, he got a copy of that bootleg first "South Park" with
Santa
wrestling Jesus. He'll never stop playing it!
>"Get on with it, fool!"
>
>With a grin, Murdock turned on the VCR. "Would you like to see the
>exact nature of the club Clayton Ardoyne owns?" With a smirk, Murdock
>set the machine into motion
GYPSY: Hey, that machine's not in motion! Get that smirk of your face,
mister!
>and the TV screen was filled with the image
>of seven, well-built young men clad in tight black pants and only
> small white cuffs and a collar adorning their wrists and arms. Their
> chests were totally bare.
MADGE (wincing): Oh, god! Nipple hair!
GYPSY: Pearl?
PEARL (transfixed, awakened): Huh? Yeah, yeah, jocularity, wise-ass
comments,
whatever.
> B.A. Baracus stared. H.M. Murdock chuckled loudly.
>
>"What's that, man?"
SCRATCH: -sucker! Sucker man!
>B.A. shouted, a note of horror creeping into his
>voice.
>
> "The Men of Chippendales," Murdock announced triumphantly.
GYPSY: The VA has videos of male strippers?
MADGE: Well, so much for "don't ask, don't tell."
>"The who?"
>
>"No, not The Who, The Men of Chippendales.
SCRATCH: You can tell by the way none of them are choking on their own
vomit.
GYPSY (to Scratch): We have to talk.
> Don't you know about them?"
>
>B.A. shook his head, still mesmerized by the suggestively clad men on
>the tape.
SCRATCH: See? See?
GYPSY: No! I refuse to deal with that implication.
PEARL: Face it. B.A. could be the sixth member of the Village People.
>"Well, I guess you probably wouldn't. You're busy all day
>at the Day Care Center
[All clear their throats, whistle innocently and avert their eyes from
the
fanfic.]
>while I, on the other hand, have
>vast amounts of time to spend broadening my mind with
>knowledge gleaned from the many varied educational programs offered on
>the three major networks during the daylight hour...argh!!!"
MADGE: That would be my reaction to that statement.
>"Get to the point, fool!"
ALL: -sucker!
>
>Murdock quickly extracted his neck from between B.A.'s hands. "Okay,
>okay. I saw them on Donahue. The club is for ladies only, Big Guy.
PEARL: B.A. is God?
GYPSY: Not THE Big Guy, just A Big Guy.
> No men allowed. Except for those prime specimens of malehood, of
>course."
SCRATCH: Uh-huh. So where does Murdock's brother Niles fit into all
this?
>
>"You mean, we gotta wear those things to serve drinks?"
>
>"Looks that way, Oh Baracan One."
>
MADGE (B.A.): That's Bacchan one, fool! No wine for you!
GYPSY: -sucker.
MADGE: Oh, right.
>"Uh, uh. Not me!"
PEARL: Oh, look. Tom Cruise wore a lot more in "Cocktail" and came out
with a
lot less self-respect.
>
>"It gets worse," Murdock said with glee. His finger depressed the
>fast forward button until he located another section of tape. "Look
> at this."
SCRATCH: Their dessert tray. It includes an item called, "The
Burgeoning
Banana".
>
>B.A. stared open-mouthed as a dancer dressed as Zorro began to gyrate
>and strut around the dance floor,
MADGE: Antonio Banderas, in five years!
>peeling off his clothes as he moved and tossing them to a colleague
PEARL (fluttery): Oh, my! Look how the colleague catches those
clothes! I'm
sweating!
> as the women in the audience screamed.
ALL (chanting): COLLEAGUE! COLLEAGUE! COLLEAGUE!
>"He's taking off his clothes, man.
>He's taking off his clothes!"
SCRATCH (BA): And I'm too insecure with my own sexuality to deal with
that!
GYPSY: -fool.
>
>"True," Murdock replied blandly.
>
>"I ain't taking off my clothes in front of no crazy women!" he said
>with horror.
MADGE (cockney): Nobody never said nuttin' about the full monty!
>"No, no," Murdock hastily assured him. "You don't have to. It's
only
>the featured dancers that do the strip tease.
GYPSY: If you take everything off, is it still a tease, really?
PEARL: You can't approach it from an end product point of view. It's
about
process.
> The waiters just walk around passing out drinks with their hairy
>chests hanging out."
>
SCRATCH: While the customers linger over their fuzzy navels, if you ken
my
innuendo.
---
Logo, commercial. Go Colonel! Go Colonel! All right, you can stop
now.
<End Part 3>
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