MSTing! "My Attorney" [Pt 2 of 2]

[pinkboy]

* * * * * * *

[CUT TO: The SOL Bridge, darkened. A low, pulsing tone is playing in
the background. It's all very tense. We hear BRIAN panting for
breath, but he's not on screen. Hold for a moment, then a single
bloody hand rises up from behind the desk. It fumbles to grab the
desk for support. Disoriented and panicked, Brian raises himself up.
He tries to get his bearings, but immediately sees-]

BRIAN: There's blood on my hands… There's blood…

[Brian brings up his puppet hand. On it sits Kermit, completely
spattered with the stuff. Kermit stares at Brian. Brian reacts,
horrified.]

BRIAN: Oh my god! Kermit! You told me that film editor at Dreamworks
was the last one!
KERMIT: Well, he still WAS the last one. What we have here, see, is
the NEXT one.
BRIAN: ONE?! The next ONE?!
KERMIT: All right, TWO, Mr. Anal Exactitude. Mr. Cadaver Tracker.
Mr. Precision Body Count Odometer, Just $199, Exclusive to Sharper
Image.
BRIAN: [covering his ears] Stop it!
KERMIT: Oh, the real world getting a little hard to deal with again,
Brian?
BRIAN: [fumbling in his pockets] My pills! Where are my pills?!
KERMIT: Oh grow up, loser! This ain't Sesame Street! Unless that's
what you want. Do you want life to be like Sesame Street, Brian?
[starts to dance and sing] o/~ I've killed two men! One, two! And
I'll do it again! One, two! o/~
BRIAN: Oh, don't play the parent-friendly educational rogue with me,
you butcher! I never wanted to be a puppeteer!
KERMIT: Sure, Brian. You never wanted to make your father proud of
you.
BRAIN: Stop that!
KERMIT: You never wanted to keep his dream alive. You never wanted
fame, money, recognition…
BRIAN: SHUT UP!
KERMIT: But hey! It's not too late! You can still toss me over the
side! Yeah, c'mon, tough guy, show me how much you don't need me!
Take me off! Kill your dad all over again!
BRIAN: Why you… !
KERMIT: Is your hand cold, Brain? It's still up my butt!
BRIAN: You REPTILE!
KERMIT: Hey! Amphibian, if you don't mind!
BRIAN: You're not my father! My father wasn't YOU! He was a
brilliant, one-of-a-kind visionary. And you're not going to make me
be his cheap, third-rate imitation anymore! You're going to retire,
Kermit! I'll pack you away, with the mothballs and old clothes and…
[gropes for word] mothballs… and whatever else things get packed away
with, oh god why did dad have to home-school me?!
KERMIT: [parental] OK, Brian. If that's the way you want it. But...
I don't think it's the way Animal the Drummer would've handled this
situation, do you?

[The smile leaves Brian's face. This is obviously an important factor
he hadn't considered.]

BRIAN: [quietly] No.
KERMIT: No what?
BRIAN: No sir.
KERMIT: Do you know what Animal the Drummer would have done, Brian?
BRIAN: Yes, sir.
KERMIT: [firmly] OK then. Get to it. And don't fuck it up this time!

[An eerie calm envelops Brian, as he seems resigned to his fate. He
puts Kermit down beneath the desk, and begins to wrap a bandana around
his head, slowly weeping as he softly sings.]

BRIAN: o/~ When green is all, there is to be…
It kinda makes you stop and wonder o/~

[Brian now unbuttons his shirt, revealing rows and rows of dynamite
strapped to his body.]

BRIAN: o/~ But why wonder? Why… wonder.
I'm green… it'll do fine. o/~

[He pulls a push-button trigger from inside his vest, and holds his
thumb ready. He's in tears.]

BRIAN: o/~ It's.. beautiful!
And I think it's… what I wanna be! o/~
[quickly] I love you daddy!

[Brian winces as he presses the button.]

[CUT TO: Exterior of the SOL. The thing EXPLODES in a stunning
fireball.]

[CUT TO: Castle. Pearl and Brain Guy stare at the screen, eyes wide
and jaws agape. Bobo is also transfixed, but in more satisfied way.]

BRAIN GUY: Oh my.
BOBO: Boy, them Garuccis really outdid themselves this year!
PEARL: [sullen] This, is an absolute, disaster.

[She grabs Brain Guy by the "lapels".]

PEARL: THEY'RE STILL FIVE MINUTES SHORT!
BRAIN GUY: W-w-w-well-
PEARL: [looking at watch] There's only five minutes LEFT! That
leaves…

[Pearl goes dizzy trying to calculate the difference.]

BRAIN GUY: [patiently] No minutes.
PEARL: [still figuring] Carry the two…
BRAIN GUY: [less patient] NO, minutes. Five minutes, minus five
minutes…
PEARL: [grabbing Brain Guy] You! [grabbing Bobo] You! Think of
something! Anything! Do what ever the networks do when they run out
of ideas!
BRAIN GUY: [sotto voce] You mean, besides start the cameras.
PEARL: [dashing off stage] I gotta stall! [calling as she runs]
Marlon! Have I told you how warm and inviting your buttocks look
today?

[Brain Guy and Bobo watch Pearl go, cringing.]

BRAIN GUY: I see we're choosing death WITHOUT dignity today.
BOBO: One of my favorites!
BRAIN GUY: In a way, I'm not surprised it came to this. I mean, the
man did work with puppets all day.
BOBO: Yeah. [oddly directed at someone off screen] It's a wonder more
folks forced to work with puppets don't suddenly snap and kill their
co-workers!
BRAIN GUY: [same] Yes! It seems like it should happen more often!
BOBO: And yet it doesn't.
BRAIN GUY: Weird.

[Both are now finished with their strange little episode. They sit
down, in thinking poses.]

BRAIN GUY: Hmmm… now what do the networks do when they have no new
material…
[Bobo chuckles. Brain Guy stares at him.]

BOBO: Oh! Sorry. I was just thinking about that time when we set
Mike and the bots that terrible spam about how the afterlife is really
just God, the Devil and Jesus starring in a bad episode of "Night
Court"?
BRAIN GUY: [laughing in recognition] Oh, right! "My Attorney"! Oh,
man, was that lame!
BOBO: [looking thoughtful] Why, I remember it like it was only
yesterday!

[Brain Guy and Bobo put their heads together in reminiscent thought.
The sides of the screen go swimmy, and we DREAM CUT to:]

[DREAM CUT DOOR SEQUENCE. Just like the regular sequence, but we hear
nothing but harp music, and the edges are soft.]

[OPEN ON: The SOL Theater. Mike and the bots file in. Mike is in a
huge stove pipe hat that's covering his entire head, and is NAKED
otherwise (not that you'd see any naughty bits in his silhouette).
Tom has lit sparklers taped all over his entire body. In place of his
webbing, Crow has a model of the Eiffel Tower stuck to his head.]

MIKE: [removing hat] Man! I can't believe they let us do full
frontal!
TOM: It was essential to the skit's overall comment on campaign
finance reform!
CROW: So when will this swelling go down, Mike?
MIKE: Soon. Soon.

>Subject: My Attorney

CROW: The remake of "My Bodyguard", with Frankie Muniz and Barry
Scheck!

>After living a "decent" life,

MIKE: [narrator] I use the quotes 'cuz I masturbate!

> my time on earth came
>to an end.

TOM: Alas, poor Yorrick. Still, better him than me!

>The first thing I remember is sitting on a
>bench in the waiting room of what I thought to be a courthouse.

MIKE: I sat next to Robert Downey Jr. Nice guy.
TOM: [grumbling] Aw, jeez. If Judy Sheinhold has anything to do with
handing out eternal rewards, forget it! I ain't dyin'!

>The
>doors opened and I was instructed to come in and have a seat by
> the defense table.

CROW: Take a load off! Have an iced tea! Gloria made gingerbread!

>As I looked around I saw the "prosecutor." He was a villainous
>looking gent who snarled as he stared at me.

MIKE: Vince McMahon!

>He definitely was the most evil
>person I have ever seen.
>

MIKE: It IS Mr. McMahon!
TOM: Mr. XFL himself!

>I sat down and looked to my left and there sat my
>lawyer, a kind and gentle looking man whose appearance seemed
>familiar to me.

CROW: [defendant] Didn't you used to play acoustic guitar in the
subway?

>The corner door flew open and here appeared the judge in
>full flowing robes. He commanded an awesome presence as he
> moved across the room.

TOM: Then his robe tripped him and he cracked his head on the bench.

> I couldn't take my eyes off of him. As he took his
>seat behind the bench, he said,

MIKE: [judge] Stop undressing me with your eyes! I have feelings, you
know!

>"Let us begin."
>
>The prosecutor rose and said, "My name is Satan

CROW: [Gump] People call me Forrest Satan.

>and I am
>here to show you why this man belongs in hell."

MIKE: [Satan] I've prepared a little Powerpoint demo, if you'd dim the
lights a tad. Claire?

>He proceeded to tell
>of lies that I told,

TOM: But enough about my chat room avatar.

>things that I stole,

CROW: Things? Like, stereos? Cable? Weapons-grade uranium? What?

>and in the past when I
>cheated others. Satan told of other horrible perversions that
> were once in my life

MIKE: [calling] We need details!
CROW: Full names, current phone numbers, cup sizes! That kind of
thing!

>and the more he spoke,
>the further down in my seat I sank.

TOM: [defendant] Oh, man, I thought Eighth Amendment privacy rights
carried over to the sweet hereafter!

>I was so
>embarrassed that I couldn't look at anyone, even my
>own lawyer, as the Devil told of sins that even I had
>completely forgotten about.

MIKE: [defendant] And I log my sins on my Palm Pilot!
TOM: Man, he thinks this is bad, wait'll they get to the DNA evidence.

>As upset as I was at Satan for telling all these things
>about me,

MIKE: Shyah! Satan. What a prissy little tittle-tattle!

>I was equally upset at my representative who sat
>there silently not offering any form of defense at all.

CROW: [defendant] That's the last time I hire Smith, Jacoby,
Life-Sized Wax Figure & Clark!

>I know I had been guilty of those things, but I had
>done some good in my life - couldn't that at least equal out
>part of the harm I've done?

TOM: Only if portrayed with equivalent ambiguity.

>
>Satan finished with a fury

MIKE: Not like a woman scorned, of course, but still…

>and said, "This man
>belongs in hell, he is guilty of all that I have charged and
>there is not a person who can prove otherwise.
>

CROW: You ARE the weakest link. Goodbye!

>When it was his turn, my lawyer first asked if he
>might approach the bench.

TOM: [defendant] He told the bench it had nice inlays, and asked if it
wanted to see his etchings.

>The judge allowed this over the
>strong objection of Satan, and beckoned him to come forward.

MIKE: [Wizard of Oz] Come forward, cowardly lawyer!

> As he got
>up and started walking, I was able to see him in his full
> splendor and majesty.

CROW: [shocked] Bobby Flay!

>I realized why he seemed so familiar. This was Jesus
>representing me,

ALL: D'OOH!

>my Lord and my Savior.

MIKE: [defendant] Pudgier than you'd think!
TOM: In fairness, I could see where Jesus might have to do this, what
with all the real lawyers burnin' in hell and all.

>He stopped at the bench and softly said to the
>judge, "Hi Dad," and then he turned to address the court.
>

MIKE: [sighing, rubbing his head] Yup. This is a fair trial, all
right.
CROW: Man, if Satan agreed to this setup, hell must be one stupid-ass
place!
TOM: He's not a fallen angel so much as he flunked the SAT.

>"Satan was correct in saying that this man had sinned,

CROW: [Jesus] But let he who is without sin cast the first- Dad, put
the rock down. I'm preaching to the converted here.

> I
>won't deny any of these allegations. And yes the wage of sin is
>death,

MIKE: A third of which goes to the feds in withholding taxes.

>and this man deserves to be punished.

TOM: [J] Let's give him Martin Short's movie career!

>" Jesus took a deep breath and turned to his Father
>with outstretched arms and proclaimed,

CROW: [J] I caught a soul THIS BIG yesterday!

>"However, I died on
>the cross so that this person might have eternal life

MIKE: Man, talk about a martyr complex.

>and
>he has accepted me as his Savior, so he is mine."
>

TOM: [J] No, really. Watch, I'll make him lick spit off the table.
It's cool.

>My Lord continued with, "His name is written in the
>book of life

CROW: The manuscript even Mikey likes!
MIKE: So, the never-ending battle between good and evil depends on
Satan not getting a bottle of White-Out.

>and no one can snatch him from me. Satan
>still does not understand yet.

TOM: [J] But then, we've only been through this 783 million times
since the dawn of creation, I'm sure he'll catch on eventually.
MIKE: Satan! The pitchfork-wielding Dan Quayle of the netherworlds!

>This man is not to be given justice,
>but rather mercy."
>

CROW: [J] Well… mercy, a blonde wig, silicone implants, a pogo stick,
and a hot pink halter top.

>As Jesus sat down, he quietly paused, looked at his
>Father and replied,

CROW: Replied?
MIKE: Let it go, son.
CROW: But-
MIKE: [touching Crow's shoulder] Let it go.

>There is nothing else that needs
>to be done.

MIKE: [J] We can just hang, watch the game, drink a Bud.

>I've done it all."
>

TOM: [J] And yet I feel so empty.

>
>The judge lifted his mighty hand and slammed the
>gavel down.

CROW: Gavel! The sports drink for judges!
TOM: Now in a wide-neck bottle.

>The following words bellowed from his lips...

TOM: o/~ I, LIKE, BIG, BUTTS! And I don't… o/~

>"This man is free.

MIKE: When you purchase a second man at the regular price.

>The penalty for him has already been paid in full.
>Case dismissed.
>

CROW: [God] OK, that one ran a little long, so let's have a quick
recess, then just bang out these other eight million souls before
lunch.

>"As my Lord led me away, I could hear Satan ranting
>and raving, "I won't give up, I'll win the next one."

MIKE: [Satan] This next guy's a Seventh Day Adventist!
TOM: Can't Satan just get Roy Cohn to represent him?

>I
>asked Jesus as he gave me my instructions where to go next,
>"Have you ever lost a case?"

MIKE: [J] Every time I fly Delta! POOM! Thank you, I'm the Son of
God, thank you very much!

> Christ lovingly smiled and said, "Everyone
>that has come to me and asked me to represent them has received
> the same verdict as you, Paid in Full."
>
>=====

CROW: [J] As opposed to your bill, which won't be for some time.
TOM: So I guess the next scene is Satan and Angie Harmon bitching
about the judge to Diane Wiest.

>
>If you do not pass this along to 15 people
>immediately,

MIKE: You'll keep almost sixteen friends.

>absolutely nothing will happen. No curse, no bad
>fortune, absolutely nothing.

TOM: Well you will go to hell. But apart from that, nothing!

> Passing this on to anyone you consider a
>friend,

CROW: -may cause dryness, irritation, and bloody discharge.
MIKE: You think maybe we're overdoing the drug commercial references?
TOM: Mm. Maybe we should give'm up for Lent.

>(as I have done here), will bless you both, that is what Jesus
>promised us all.

MIKE: Not to nitpick, but I don't recall spam being a large part of
Matthew, Mark, Luke, or John.

>=====
>If God is your co-pilot, change places........

[All rise to leave.]
TOM: Bring God coffee in a tight little stewardess outfit!
MIKE: [Jackson Browne] o/~ It's the mating call, of!
Lawyers in Hell! o/~
CROW: So how do those Dancing Itos figure into all this?

/ * \... = 2 =... > 3 <...

[Before Door Sequence ends we quickly:]

[DREAM CUT back to the castle. Brain Guy is speaking; Bobo, Pearl and
Marlon listen raptly and reflectively.]

BRAIN GUY: [wistfully] …and that's how Bobo, Pearl and I learned a
valuable lesson. While it's great to know that there does exist a
force of limitless unconditional love in the universe, it's far more
important to ensure that a faceless and cold-hearted entertainment
conglomerate has enough barely acceptable minutes of video feed to
fulfill our contractual obligations to them.
MARLON: [weepily] Oh it's so true! Sometimes it's so easy to lose
sight of that simple fact!

[Marlon blows his nose; then Pearl joins him stage front.]

PEARL: So! Shall we?
MARLON: [bringing forth a contract] Of course! Sign this, Pearl, and
the cable deal is yours!
PEARL: [cackling] With pleasure. Man, I can't believe this worked!
Why, not even that goody-good Michael J. Nelson could stop me now!

[As Pearl begins to sign, we hear the FX of a descending tone,
sounding like something falling. Pearl and Marlon stop, startled,
looking up to see what it is. Then they step back to reveal that it
is Bobo, playing with a slide whistle. They glare at him.]

BOBO: [cowed] Sorry.

[Bobo sulks off stage. Once he's off, Pearl and Marlon start to
laugh.]

PEARL: Like anyone's going to fall from the sky, crash on top of me
and prevent me from signing this contract.
MARLON: Absurd!
PEARL: Preposterous!
MARLON: Of course, the contract does have the standard "Signee Hit by
Person Falling From Space" escape clause.
PEARL: [stops] Pardon?
MARLON: Well certainly. It's boilerplate.
PEARL: [flipping through contract, finding clause] I never saw any
"Signing Person Hitting Bad Thing" dealie…
MARLON: It's just to keep Larry Legal Department and Kevin Rabid
Corporate Lawyer happy. Afraid it's a bit of a dealbreaker. But if
you're unhappy with it-
PEARL: [snatching papers back] No no! No! I'm happy! Look: [clears
throat, spreads arms] "I'm happy." See?
MARLON: Excellent!

[Pearl takes the contract, takes the pen, and begins to sign the
contract. As she does, we hear the increasing volume of a man and two
robots screaming in terror as they fall from the sky.]

PEARL: [as she signs] Pearl… Lucretia… Morgan… Winslet… Serena…

[Pearl pauses and stares at the pen- it seems to be running a little
dry. She lifts it, shakes it a bit, then resumes. The screams
continue to increase in volume.]

PEARL: …Elizabeth… Roseanne… Delilah… Roseanne…

[Pearl pauses to lick the tip of the pen. The screams continue to
increase in volume, and include desperate phrases like "I love you
Tom!" "I love you Mike!" "Don't fall on my butt Crow!".]

PEARL: …Mary…

[She licks the tip of the pen again. The screams are quite loud now.]

PEARL: …Roseanne… Uma… Roseanne… Joan… Sibilance…

[We hear a crash. The camera shakes violently. Debris falls from the
ceiling as finally, Tom, Crow, and Mike fall into Castle Forrester… a
good fifteen feet behind the action. They smash into the floor with
three successive thuds. It has no effect on anything whatsoever.]

PEARL: [oblivious] …Tanya… Forrester… the Second! There!
MARLON: Thank you! I'll take that pen, if you would?
PEARL: With pleasure!
MARLON: Ah, I have a good feeling about this partnership, Pearl! I
think that, together, with your gift for comedy, and my strong
commitment to supporting your dream when it suits me, why, you and
your jolly friends could be on the air for an entire decade!
PEARL: [whose face has fallen a little as Marlon has talked] You know
what? I'm tired of this skit now.
MARLON: What?
BRAIN GUY: [entering stage left] I concur. This whole "TV Executive"
plot has been done to death.
MARLON: Wait a minute!
PEARL: [to Brain Guy] "Hail to the Queen"?
BRAIN GUY: [nodding] "Hail to the Queen".
PEARL: [despairing] Oh, man. I can't believe I forgot "Hail to the
Queen"! That was so much better than this.
MARLON: No! No! That was completely different! There the executives
took you over! Here I was working with you! You were working with
me! An entirely new concept!
PEARL: [descending into full sulk] Now I'm just embarrassed.
BOBO: [entering stage right] Well you don't have to convince me. I've
been bored out of my shaggy ape hair for an hour now.
MARLON: But-but you can't give up on me now! We're almost done!
Look, see? I'm about to get this cell phone call-
PEARL: Go away.
MARLON: But wait! Listen! You get dumped for a reality show
involving six photogenic twenty-somethings shackled together in a
mudpit! And it's hosted by ANDY DICK!! It's irony! Don't you GET
that?
PEARL: [indicating Marlon] Brain Guy?

[Brain Guy does his head shake, and with a POP, a protesting Marlon
disappears.]

PEARL: [calling behind her] Guys? You got that judge thing I sent you
last week?

[The group separates so we can see the lifeless body of Mike Nelson
sprawled on the floor. Inexplicably, he pops right up and makes his
way toward them.]

MIKE: [waving crumpled page] Yes, ma'am! Got it right here!
PEARL: Let's do it. Put this puppy to bed.
CROW: [popping in] Then maybe hit Ché Caron's for cocktails and
antipasti?
PEARL: Art darling, you read my evil mind. Servile?

[Tom pops in stage right, with a hand taped to his "ear". A stage
microphone rises in front of him.]

TOM: Right-O!
PEARL: On five. Ready?

[Everyone clears the stage except Tom. Tom prepares.]

TOM: [softly to himself] Three… four… [clears throat and speaks as
announcer] There's a new sheriff in town! And this time, she's a
judge! And not a sheriff. She's Judge Hatchet!

[Pearl comes stage front, dressed in a judge's robes. Crow comes
stage right, hand raised as if taking an oath.]

PEARL: Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing
but the truth?
CROW: I do.
PEARL: The claimant states you sold her fourteen picograms of gold in
the form of a glass of seawater.
CROW: Yes. I-
PEARL: GUILTY!

[Pearl suddenly pulls a hatchet from her robes and slams it down a la
a gavel, against Crow. Crow's arm falls off. He wails in shock and
terror, and flees the set.]

TOM: Judge Hatchet rules with an iron fist that's exquisitely
manicured, and not really made of iron. It's a metaphor! Like when I
said she was a sheriff, when in reality, she wasn't!

[Bobo enters, places his hand on the bible.]

BOBO: I swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but-
PEARL: GUILTY!

[Pearl swings her hatchet down on the bible. A spurt of blood comes
out, Bobo clutches his hand and moans wildly as he exits.]

TOM: Judge Hatchet! Coming to your house this fall! And this time,
it's not a metaphor!

[Mike and Brain Guy, carrying his brain, approach. Their faces
register sufficient desperation.]

PEARL: [twirling hatchet] So. What's your story? Any beefs? Huh?
MIKE and BRAIN GUY: [terror] No! No!
PEARL: Quarrels? Wrangles? C'mon, bicker a bit! Let's hear ya!
BRAIN GUY: We've… settled!
MIKE: Out of court!
BRAIN GUY: And bought you a cake!
MIKE: [bringing cake forward] A blackout cake!
BRAIN GUY: And not one of the discount ones where the top layer has
sort of slid off the bottom so it's not even!
MIKE: [bringing a bowl of chocolate crumbs] You want the crumbs? We
saved the crumbs. Because they weren't ours. They're yours!
PEARL: Well isn't that nice! I guess that means we're done!

[Mike and Brain Guy breathe a sigh of relief.]

PEARL: Case dismissed!

[Pearl raises the hatchet and brings it down on Brain Guy's brain.
Brain Guy's eyes bug out in a double-take just as the screen goes:]

--- PWOOOSH ---

MYSTERY SCEINCE THEATER 3000
EPISODE NNN201

"My Attorney"
with "Animal Instincts"

featuring

marlon
PAUL CHAPLIN

the talent
ANDY DICK
BRIAN HENSON
MARK RUSSEL

and special guest
SHARI LEWIS as kermit the frog

writers
BRENDAN HERLIHY
(head writer)

dibs list maintained by
MIKE NEYLON

isnt it funny when
THE CREDITS FORM SENTENCES

its like e e cummings
GOT A JOB IN POST PRODUCTION OR SOMETHING

you know when i format a joke like this
BILL LIVINGSTON GETS A ROYALTY

if its 2024 and im still writing mstings
KILL ME

This publication is for entertainment use only, and is not meant as a
personal attack on Shadowfax, Andy Dick, Mark Russel, Brian Henson,
Kermit the Frog, spam, cable television executives, Mott the Hoople,
Christianity, Bill Livingston, or Seventh Day Adventists; nor is it
meant to infringe on any copyrights held by Best Brains, Sci Fi
Channel, Shadowfax, Jim Henson, Brian Henson, Belsarius Productions,
Universal Studios, God, Satan, or any of their holy/vile
manifestations.

e-mail
PINKBO...@HOTMAIL.COM

visit the pink boy buffet
PINK_BOY.TRIPOD.COM

executive producer
BRENDAN HERLIHY

It's only clay.

< < < B-R-R-R-ANG! > > >

------------------------------------------------------

[In place of a stinger, the copyright screen consists
of a camcorder shot of what looks like a wrap party
on the set. Mark Russel is playing a Casio
keyboard. Mike, in his Ranger Rick costume with
the snappy iron-on badges, accompanies on acoustic
guitar. Andy Dick and Kermit harmonize while Brian
shakes a tamborine. The cast and crew clap along
and smile appreciatively.]

ANDY/KERMIT: o/~ Oh, I come from Alabammy
with a banjo on my knee!
And the doctors say, to take it off,
requires surgery.
Anasthesia! Apply it locally!
It's the only way I'm gettin'
this damn banjo off my- o/~

[CUT to black].

------------------------------------------------------
Copyright 2001 Brendan Herlihy