Yes, Lights Out, Everybody...................................
I was going to write this for Halloween, but I'm feeling the spirit of the season early as the old folks used to say, so let's post it up here as a lead-in to Halloween because 'tis the season!
For the ill informed who has not heard of Lights Out, it was a radio program that began, it would seem, in 1936 that featured radio plays written by Arch Oboler.
I have a weird understanding and history with Lights Out. I don't really remember where I first heard of it but as someone who likes old stuff it's not hard to come across something like this.
I remember one day, I was looking for shows in the same vein of Twilight Zone and finding things on the same style branch as it... things like Tales of Tomorrow and even a show like Telephone Time is slightly similar though Telephone Time's stories mostly had happy endings to them so it was like the backward positively charged Twilight Zone. There's a lot of Telephone Time episodes that are really good.
Tales of Tomorrow is closer to Zone, it is outlandish stories of intrigue and fright. There's one where Leslie Nielsen, before he was comedy Leslie Nielsen, he's like a drama Leslie... where he is this broke bum of a guy who finds this weird store where they sell you something that you can go back to any time of your life and try to do something different in that situation...
...but every time he does this and the story fast forwards back to present.. he winds up more worser and even more misarabler than before...
...and he keeps going to this store to go back in time and go to places he perceives his life went awry and try again... but each time he just winds up more miserable and more miserable each time he tries to fix his past. It's great to see him in his non-comedy form in Tales of Tomorrow and that episode is relatable-to for any generation who sees it. In life it goes like that a lot... you try and fix something that is perceived as being broken and you tend to make it 10 times worse each try... and if people did actually have time machines I bet so many people would fall in a vacuum looped-up trap like this.
Tales is a pretty good show in this genre.
There's been more moderner versions of this. There was an 80s Twilight Zone show too. An even more moderner take on this genre is Tim and Eric's Bedtime Stories... which I never heard of it at launch, and saw it when they started that "Channel 5" stream. That show is very good. The Odenkirk toe-eater episode is a good one to start at with that show to get a feel for the balance of comedy, horror, and great acting (M. Emmet Walsh is in that one) that is on display there.
Yet...this article is, of course, about Light Outs, which pre-dates all of these shows. Lights Out is from 1936, and although I think a version of it was out prior to that, I am dealing with the Arch Oboler version of the show.
My experience with this show goes back quite a bit even though I only really started listening to most of them recently....
In my first encounter with this show, years ago, I don't think anything salvaged on the internet was of a sound quality where you could really make out what was going on. A few years ago, I looked for it again, and some people had some good recordings of it...
but...
...I didn't listen to it that time, either. I remember the first time I really tried to listen to it and turned my lights out like they tell you to do after the ad for "Ironized Yeast Tablets" ... I really scared myself. It wasn't the show itself that scared me... it was my own mind convinced myself to be wicked scared in the darkness of my night chambers.
I was thinking to myself as the radio voices sombrely echoed through the air and thought to myself,
"These voice actors on this show... they've been dead for quite a few decades now...." I thought.
"...but they are talking to each other, and, to me... like they are right here," I continued to think.
"....wait, wait an actual second, these voices really ARE GHOSTS!" I wigged.
If the most realest description of a "Ghost" is a disembodied voice calling from beyond the grave to the land of the living in hopes of lingering on... these radio voices truly were actual Ghosts! It wasn't the content of the show that made me wig hard... it was my logical mind managing to scare my own self through a series of chillingly-true truths. I ran to the light switch, re-opened the lights, and turned off Lights Out for a second time.
Around 2019, I made a third attempt to listen to Lights Out, and getting through a few episodes... I was surprised at how tame it was and felt silly for wigging out to it all those years ago. It was, honestly, more comedy than anything else. The accents used by the actors were fun. The episodes ranged from lightly scary to complete comedy. The first thing I noticed that I liked was the host, Arch Oboler, who, remember this is from 1936, was even by that era's standards really down-to-earth yet very intelligent. Some of the best parts of these radio plays are Oboler's comments as he introduces them and then later sums up the stories he's written for air.
After one episode about an intergalactic war between Martians and People (or something)... he concludes the episode by saying...
"Yes, when one stops to think what a tiny little grain of sand this world of ours actually is in the dark sea of space and realizes how precarious little mankind's hold is on this earth... the spectacle of man's inhumanity to man becomes a Cosmic Joke."
-Arch Oboler"
That's good stuff, there. Yes. I mean that's speaking my language, Arch. That's good stuff.
I think he's probably an under appreciated writer of the 1900s. His plays on Lights Out and his intros/outros to them are really interesting stuff. I'd have to say he was probably an influence on other writers who came after him. I don't think you really hear anyone talk about him now... but I'm quite confident he was an influence on many.
I think like that George Ade article I did a while ago... where at the end I attempted to write in the emulated method of Ade to honor writers of the human past... I will try and write in the method of Oboler as a Halloween Homage to a great fiction writer...
...but first, we'll have to figure out his main tenets. As far as the horror goes... and since this was radio where very little could be used to describe the horrors the actors found themselves in... the main method was "fear of the unknown".
Fearing the unknown is a million times scarier than fearing the known. If you know what you're scared of... you can act to de-scare yourself... yet.. if you are scared and have no idea what is making you scared... good luck with that. You are gonna go crazy with fear. The fear will eat your brain alive!
Some examples of fearing the unknown are a knock at the door that just wigs the person out, I think, one Lights Out had a forest that ate people and no one knew why the forest was eating people, there's one where someone is throwing gravestones at people's heads from out of nowhere, there's one where a lady is buried alive... etc, etc.
Fearing the unknown is still popular today in the post-radio era... you'll see many movies where the person knows something is wrong and something bad is gonna happen... but they (and the audience) can only feel around in the dark for what it actually is.
Oboler takes it one simple step further. He described true fear as this,
"Someone asked me what's the most frightening thing in the world, my answer? The Familiar.
A common everyday thing which suddenly is no longer commonplace. A shutter banging on a windy night when you're all alone or your house cat suddenly walking up to you and looking at you with eyes full of nameless cruelty.
Yes, the most frightening thing in the world is the Familiar suddenly Unfamiliar."
-Oboler, A.
Good scary movies still do this to this day. The known becomes the unknown... and you suddenly have to fear something that was once known but is now quasi-different. Suspenseful thrillers are usually more scary than monster movies. The monster is known and usually has a presence and some sort of logical means of running from it or defeating it. An unknown entity that is causing fear is far more sinister as you can't run from it or defeat it... because you do not know what it is.
The next big tenet of Oboler is the comedy. I think he had to tone down these shows at some point and make them less scary because people were legit wigging in the 1930s to these plays.... so the ones you listen to about frat boys, chicken hearts growing out of control, and insane cackling crazy women turning people inside-out... probably came later and after the show was toned down... but these episodes are good too.
Intelligent commentary is the third tenet.... as stated above... he really knew how to introduce and close out these stories. I think some of the most interesting things said on this show are the "final thoughts" on these tales of the fantastical.
So, we have:
1) Fear of the Unknown (or moreso Fear of the Known becoming the Unknown)
2) Comedy
3) Intelligent Intro and Outro
Like that article which was a homage to the writing style of George Ade in the tune of The Ramones... I now present to you my own take on this...
So....
For previous Emulation of Author exercises in this blog, hmmm... I think there was only two, but after a decade of writing in here... even I don't really remember all of them anymore.
George Ade Style Story:
"The New Fable of the Brother Who Took A Sniff of The Air Plane Glue."
Weekly World News Style Story:
"Small Child Swallowed by the Encroaching Abyss of Deadly Ice whilst Spelunking in Near-By Cave .... Can he Survive???"
I'm re-reading that Ramones/George Ade concoction... that was a strange mix of things there. That's something that thing.
Alright, let's write a nice radio play now you guys. This is my short radio play!
Writing on Subjects Presents: Turn your Screen Brightness Down
Okay....
Turn Your Screen Brightness Down..... Everyboooooooooooooody:
New Writings on Subjects II: Stronger now presents a story so horrifying you will freak (and wig)... so if you are light of human heart and are taken to fright easily... please close your browser tab now... for this next tale will ruin your entire mind with endless and endless fear.
Firstly, a word from our esteemed sponsor,
Pitchman: Hello there, do you feel cooped-up? Do you feel lackluster and lame like a run-down goat? Are you getting enough sun light? Are you very worried that people simply do not like you what so ever? Are you wallowing in a pit of your most dire distresses night-in and night-out? Are you scared that a hand will creep out from under your bed and grab you? Grab you and drag you into unending suffering for eternity? When you look in the mirror do you see a person who looks bad? Do you ever really wonder why you have absolutely no friends?
....well, have you ever thought about buying a small compact humidifier for your bedroom? It'll make the air that you inhale into yourself have more moisture in it... and your breathing will be cleaner and better. Your brain will get more wetter air and it'll stop obsessing about abject horrible fear and going out-of-its-skull over how troubling life is.
Announcer: Thank you. Now, let us witness the first half of tonight's play, entitled: The Gigantic Ever-Growing Deceased Head.
In the first half of my play, we will see a doctor who studies the brain. He brings one of his specimens, a small skull filled with a brain of a deceased cadaver, home with him to continue his experiments... much to the dismay of his beautiful wife.
The man's name is Hector Zorloff and his wife is named Violet Zorloff.
The human brain is a marvelous thing isn't it? It's tiny when you think of it. It's only the size of a small football or a hunk of farm-fresh cauliflower... yet why in the loneliness of our minds does our brain tend to feel like it weighs one thousand tons at times? It almost seems as if we can barely walk around with this brain in our heads when it feels as though it weighs more than it ever possibly could. How much does a worry weigh? Nothing, I'd assume. What about of a fear? How much does fear weigh? About zero pounds and zero ounces, one would have to estimate.
What if worries weighed something? What if fears actually were tangible things that existed outside of our minds? What if they were real... as real as an egg or as real as a pretzel? This entity that can spiral out of control in size for no particular reason. Something that can fester and fester upon itself endlessly would surely be problematic if it were a real tangible thing. That's the scoop for tonight's play... a skull with a brain that just won't stop bulging with fear.
Student: Mr Zorloff...
Hector: Why that's DOCTOR Zorloff, young man.
Student: Oh yes, Doctor Zorloff, yes. I was wondering if I could ask you about that.... head.
Hector: What of it? You've been studying in this institute for months... it is not like you've never seen a dead man's head before.
Student: Well, it's just that... I've never seen a head of a dead man quite so peculiar before, Doctor. The eyes for instance... they... seem to look back at you as you peer into them... and the more I peer into them the more they appear as though they know I am looking at them.
Hector: Oh spare me of these trite musings, young man. You really believe you are the first student of this institute that gets an eerie feeling after looking at a dead head? You'll get used to it in time... and if you cannot get used to the cold stare of a dead's man head than maybe you should find another line of study... perhaps studying bugs or a lesser field of boobery!
Student: I've seen plenty dead heads, Doctor! I shall not give up my dream of medicine and renounce myself to a field of lesser boobery! I...I...I... just feel this one can hear my thoughts.
Hector: You've been looking at too many penny features about cat women from outer space and ape martians from the outer worlds! A dead man's head simply cannot hear your thoughts. Do your thoughts exist? How can a dead man's head even hear something that cannot be seen!? How can a dead man's head hear ANYTHING to being with!?
Student: It's just... when I look at its eyes and think about things... they get bigger. The pupils of the dead man's head grow in size... I swear of it!
Hector: Let me tell you something, Mr., what is it? Who cares. Listen now, your hogwash and booby babble are not welcome in an institute as fine as this! Begone with yourself and think about joining the war effort or volunteering at the Christmas house.
Student: I understand, I'm sure it was just my fatigue creeping up on me... I think I need some sleep. I'll excuse myself and be on my way. Apologies, Doctor Zorloff.
Hector: Yes yes. Get some rest, young man. Tomorrow is a new day and we must finish our experiments on this man's dead brain as within his skull may lay wondrous secrets of nature!
Student: So, you agree it's an interesting specimen that is unlike others?
Hector: Why of course, this man's dead brain is great and boisterous. I can only imagine what he must have been like as an alive man with such a brain as this! I bet he was magnificent and quite interesting to converse with. His lateral pre-core in this region is so well defined... it's almost as if its... beating like a heart.
Student: ...yes. I must be going, Doctor.
Hector: This brain is so fascinating, the experiments cannot wait another moment... I shall take it home with me and continue my research there. Time is fleeting, you see, Mr. uuuuh.....
Student: Smith.
Hector: Yes, Smith. Yes. Good evening Smith.
Smith: Good evening, Doctor Zorloff....
Violet: Oh you're home! How was work, today?
Hector: Work!? You call solving the mysteries of the human condition, work!? You should ask me... how did your thrilling and exhaustive research at the institute go today, Doctor Zorloff?
Violet: Oh get off your high horse commandant catbird! What's with the rigamarole all of a sudden?
Hector: Ooooh, just a strange day. One of the students, uhhh Smythe or something, he was speaking about the strangest things. Eyes that peered into his soul and ate his thoughts like pudding or some-such clap trappery!
Violet: Can't they figure out a way to limit the nuts that find their way into the institute? That one sounds like they should give him his marching orders straight to the booby hatch!
Hector: Oh yes. If I ever become Dean... I will send him first thing to the booby hatch! There, he can let a dead man's head eat his thoughts all night for as long as he ever so pleases!
Violet: Hector... what is.... that?
Hector: What is what?
Violet: That!
Hector: Oh this! Why this is a specimen from the....
Violet: It's a dead man's head!?
Hector: Why yes... what do you suppose I do all throughout the day at the brain institute? Pick flowers and dance the charleston? I am a man of science... I study dead men's brains all throughout the day. You know that!
Violet: Yes I KNOW that's what you do all day at your dead brain school! You play with dead brains but this is the first time you've brought your work home with you! Where should I put it? On the mantle next to the photograph of my dearly departed grandmother? Maybe when you become Dean you can send YOURSELF to the booby hatch!
Hector: Better yet! When I become DEAN... I shall send Smythe, Myself... AND YOU... to the booby hatch! Straight to the hatch!
Violet: ...at least there wouldn't be any dead eyes staring at me from my mantle there! Bringing these grotesque things home like this... this home might as well BE a BOOBY HATCH!
Hector: Yes. Yes. What is for dinner? Meat loaf, I wonder or... oh... maybe it's another of your stunning culinary creations, eh? Meatloaf a la PEA SAUCE. I just can't ever get enough meat loaf with creamy pea sauce gunked all over it....
Violet: ...I want that head out of here, Hector.
Hector: Please stop calling that wonderful specimen a "Head"... it is not a head. It is a brain. The skull and the decaying skin are just remnants of that interesting living man's life... but it is not a head. It is a brain.
Violet: I want that brain out of here. It's.... it's looking at me. Into my eyes. It's almost as if it is asking me.... asking me....
Hector: ???
Violet: ... how I feel? I feel scared. Did you see that? It's eyes. It's eyes are getting..... bigger.
Hector: No, they are not. Many first time students such as Mr. Smythe experience what you're experiencing. It's common. You are just scared of that dead man's head. That's all. It's natural and normal and familiar to be afraid of a dead man's normal old head. It's okay.
Violet: Yes, I suppose you're right. It's just a dead man's head ....it is.... it's like any other object now that this man isn't alive any longer. It's like a candle stick or a vase or a ... IT'S EYES JUST GOT EVEN BIGGER!
Hector: No they did not! I shall take it to my study and away from where you can become distressed of it. I shall bring it back to the institute tomorrow... now relax and forget you ever saw it.
Violet: Okay, Hector. If you run out of sauce there's plenty more pea sauce for the meat loaf in the frigidaire.
Hector: Splendid! Wonderful! I can't wait......
Violet: Good night, Hector.
Hector: ....
Smith: Welcome, good morn to you, Doctor Zorloff. The institute lights are wondrously bright and the sciences are awaiting for us to discover their natural wonders!
Hector: Yes, yes, Smythe.
Smith: Smith.
Hector: Smith? Not Smythe?
Smith: Yes, Smith, not Smythe. My parents are the Smith family, a good family, from Buffalo and...
Hector: Yes, well, I do not care.
Smith: It's the head. He's back. Is he alright?
Hector: He is NOT a He. It is a dead man's head! It's an object as dead as the door nails or the stones of the walk way! It is not a man! It's a dead man's head!
Smith: I named this specimen after ....
Hector: I don't want to hear it. I don't. I suppose you'd like to say hello to the head, is that it? Fine... knock yourself out talking to a dead man's head, Smith.
Smith: Hahaha, well alright. I did indeed miss him, you see. Let me just look into his large eyes and just...
Hector: Smith... I was merely jesting with you. Do not say "hello" to the "head"!
Smith: It's looking at me as if he knows me... as if he remembers me. How do I feel? I feel lonely, head. I feel unloved, head. I feel unappreciated at my job, head. What's that? Yes, I am over taken with pain over the pale ugliness of my own face, yes, I am. I have no friends, head.
Hector: That is simply enough now, Mr. Smith! I shall phone up the booby hatch this instant and request your outright transfer there! They will give you electro-shock, jam you to the brim with fresh insulin, and throw baseballs at you until you come to your senses, dear boy!
Smith: No! Don't!
Hector: Yes!
Smith: You mustn't!
Hector: Yes? Fairtown Facility for the Mentally Deranged? Yes, it is I, Doctor Zorloff. I request the forms to fill out to lock a man down in your facility until he comes off his mad ravings!
Smith: No! You can't! Put down that telephone! Put it down you cannot do this!
Hector: The kind men shall be here soon enough, I suggest you comply and march quietly to Fairtown where they will treat you humanely, very humanely, until your bout of madness passes, Smith. Now, cheerioh!
Smith: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooh!
Violet: Hmmmmph. Welcome home, Hector. I made something different for you today since you hate my loaf so much. It's a chicken pot pie with BROWN sauce instead of PEA sauce.
Hector: Great, I could use some brown sauce. Let me just, oof, put down my books and parcels, here.
Violet: What in the world? Is that the head?
Hector: It's not a HEAD. It is a BRAIN!
Violet: Why is it back here? Ewww, please put it in your study! I can't stand the sight of that monstrosity!
Hector: That monstrosity as you refer to it is my research! It is my work! That monstrosity buys that chicken pot pie and that brown sauce! You should be thanking it!
Violet: Oooooh well maybe I will, then! Hey there dead man's head! Thank you ever so much for putting food on our table with your deadness you big dead head!
Hector: Don't talk to my head like that!
Violet: It... it can't be.... yes, I do feel bad, head. I feel low and lonesome... and unappreciated, head. I try hard to make meat loaf, head... and I try to liven it up at times with various sauces, head. It's just... I'm not that great at cooking... I never really got the hang of it and I try and I try and I try to come up with delicious sauces, head. I tried to make a creamy sauce out of mashed peas and mushroom stalk the other month, head... and I thought it came out really well and would taste so good... but he didn't like it... and... and... its eyes? The head's.... eyes. Can it be? Its eyes... even its temples are bulging! Hector! The head is getting bigger! It's growing in front of my very eyes! His eyes! Our eyes! They are expanding! Make it stop! Hector! Make it stop! Aaaaaaaaaaaaeeeeeeeiiieieieieieieeeee! Make. It, Stop. You must MAKE IT STOP!
Hector: I'm taking it to my study, I understand a dead man's lifeless eyes can drive many students mad. It happened today as a matter of fact. I understand how you feel and shall take it away to my study.
Violet: A student went mad?
Hector: Oh yes, a terrible sight it was. Smith.
Violet: Smythe, you mean?
Hector: No. Smith. He went barmy over the glassy lifeless dead eyes of the head. He outright lost his marbles and I cast him straight away right to the booby hatch.
Violet: You cast him to the hatch? I thought you were kidding about that?
Hector: Unlike you, he is a trained medical student at the institute, and therefore he is not allowed, like a civilian as you are, to go off the deep end and way down into crazy town over the eyeless eyes of a dead man's skull. I had no choice... I cast him. Cast him away to the hatch.
Violet: But don't they throw rocks at people's stomachs there?
Hector: Oh yes, they shall. They shall pump him to his limit with insulin to make him well, shock his brain with state of the art electro-currents until he's full of pep... and throw baseballs and rocks at his stomach until he learns to calm down when he sees a dead man's skull. He'll be fine in a matter of days... four at most... and back at the institute. No worries, no fuss.
Violet: That doesn't sound so bad. Maybe I should take a week or two at the booby hatch to get my mind together, Hector. It sounds like a fun little get-a-way. Well, then again, someone's got to take care of this big old house. Maybe next month I'll sign up for the hatch.
Hector: Sounds good. Now, I shall be in my study with the brain... please do not disturb us.... um... I mean me.
Violet: No problem, Hector. There's some more brown sauce in the frigidaire if you'd like some more with your chicken pot pie.
Hector: Now where was I, ah yes, I must extract his bare leftward core and not damage it... now, where did I put my tools... ah yes... here they are. Yes, thank you, Head.
Head: ....you are welcome.
Hector: Yes, here are my tools.....
Head: ....
Hector: No, it can't be. I must've just been hearing the wind gently shake the frames of the windows upon the sill.
Head: How do you feel, Hector?
Hector: Yes, yes... it must be an erratic gust that has shaken the window frames to clack and brack about the sill in a fashion that has caused it to sound as if the Head was asking me something. Yes. I feel a bit fatigued, head... you know... a little lame and lacking of luster of late, old Head. I remember in my youthful days I would enjoy the music of the phonograph for hours on end ... and truly relax to the splendid sounds of the music. Now my days are filled with sorrows and ever more sorrows, my good Head.
Head: ... tell me more, Hector.
Hector: You know something, Head. I never really wanted to be a doctor, especially a dead head doctor. I wanted to play the sounds I heard on the phonograph as a mere boy. I wanted to be a musician, Head. I study the brain now... but to even think the thing that lets me enjoy music is just a hunk of cold matter... is troubling and removes the zest from my being, Head.
Head: Yes.
Hector: Yes, to learn all the joys of my youth... especially joys from music... were just sugars and salts and pro-tee-ins wiggling across portions of some egg muck... some concoction of yokery and veins and things up there... it makes me deeply uneasy, my good Head. I yearn for the days of innocence when things were full of mystery and wonder. Now they are sterile and cold... like a dead head. Just like you. You must understand, Head.
Head: I do...
Hector: You've doubled in size since I've found you. Was Smith, right? Do you grow by the day. How? Your eyes are glowing like a candle... like a dimly lit candle. Can it be? I must be dreaming! I must be! Violet! VIOLET HELP ME!
Violet: What is it, Hector? The head... it's gigantic! It wasn't that big before at all!
Hector: I KNOW! This dead man's head is real and alive! It's glowing like a candle and bulging like a snake digesting a rat! It simply cannot be! Is it laughing? Do you hear it?
Violet: ... I do. I heard it before too... after it asked me about my feelings about my meat loaf.
Hector: Smith was right! You were right! It feeds! It's alive and it feeds! It is feeding on us! Feeding on our fears! Feeeeeeding on our worries. Feeeeeeeeeeeeeding on our suffering! How!? How can this possibly be happening! Nothing in my medical books and records have ever spoke of a fear-festering living dead man's brain! It is a work of the unreal! A trifle tale of ghastly amazement. It is something very very unbelievable, even!
Violet: What should we do? We must throw it away.
Hector: It is a wonder! We must study it and understand it, Violet!
Violet: No, we mustn't! We must throw it out... smash it with a hammer and throw it out!
Hector: What is that, Head? What are you trying to tell me, Head? Yes... yes... of course she doesn't understand. She's not a woman of science like myself. Don't worry my sweet dead man's head... I will never throw you away... you are amazing, awe-inspiring and great! You are the best thing! I am in awe of your magnificent splendor! What's that? Throw HER out? Of course! She cannot get in the way of my research! I shall cast her out! I shall cast her straight to the booby hatch, HEAD!
Violet: No! I was kidding about wanting to go there for a short sojourn! I will never go to the hatch! The crazies there shall torment a normal person like me and make me as mad as they are! They shall shock me with electric prods and throw things at my body... day AND night! Nooooooooo!
Hector: Don't worry my best Head, I'm on the line now with the hatch. Yes, Fairtown? Yes, it's me again, Doctor Zorloff. I have another need for forms. Yes, another student of the faint heart has lost it thanks to the eyeless cold stare of the dead. She was not meant or cut-out for medical science and will need a good MONTH in the hatch! Yes. Right away, send the booby truck right away and haul her away! A good stay there will bring out the rosiness in her cheeks again! Hahahahahahahahahahahahhaahahaha!
Violet: No! No! NOOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooohohohohohohoooooooohoooooooo ooooooooh. Oh no!
.... and that was the first part of our play, gentle readers. I hope those of you of the faint heart did not wig. If you did it's okay. Wow, I wrote this so fast... I'm sweating. I am drinking tea though, so maybe it's the tea. Depending on how the story goes and how October goes... we'll see how many parts it has. The next part might be right on Halloween for the spirit of the season... or we'll do two in October, mid and end... make it a Three Piece play. I wonder how it'll end, myself. I am worried about Smith and Violet who have been sent away to a local mental facility and now Hector Zorloff is all alone with his ever growing crazy dead guy's head. What's going to happen? How big will the head actually get? I guess it depends on how many fears and pains are swimming around old Hector's brain right now. If he is a very troubled guy... I'd guess that head is gonna get pretty big. I hope it doesn't get Godzilla big, though, friends.... and I wouldn't want to be the people that gotta destroy it and clean up the mess after Hector is finished messing around with that dead man's brain.
Until then, It is D, of Writings on Subjects, saying goodnight to all of you.
To be continued....
Part II
Welcome back, now once again please turn your screen brightness down.... everyboooooooooody.
Announcer: Let us now continue our play, as here in part two, we shall be introduced to two new characters... they are steel workers by the names of Ludwig and Giovanni.
Two honorable working men who just happen to have the bad luck of meeting the unbalanced mad doctor Zorfloff and his non-stop everly-growing dead-man's head. They operate the blast furnace on the over-night shift at the steel mill. Their shift usually goes well and they go about it without much of a care in the world and get along quite well together.
Let us begin, act two, set in the steel mill, but first a word from our esteemed sponsor...
Pitchman: Hello friend, are you well? If not... would you like to get well soon? It's a lot easier than you think. Many people, just like you, go through the day feeling less than fresh and having pretty much no pep in their life. It's alright... just because you stink or smell or maybe are very skinny and probably unbefittingly homely does not necessarily mean that you can't alter your state and become way more vigorous and good at things again.
There's been people all around the continent who simply have dry and listless brains. Have you ever thought of maybe investing in a compact portable electric humidifier for the room you sleep in currently? You can even take them to motels, I think, you can ... I'm quite certain you can, anyway. The moisture of the air will be better and your tired, dense, and boring brain will get wetter and more better air circulating through it... what do you even have to lose anyways?
Announcer: Thanks, and now again, we warn you in advance that these plays are scary and will definitely make you wig out so if you are a faintly person of very low-pep then these plays are not for you and you should close your browser tab now.
Alright.... now turn your screeeeeeeeen briiiiiiiiiiiiiiiightness down, everybooooooooooooooooody....
Ludwig: Ooooof, it ees snowink out der, Giovanni, eet's cold.
Giovanni: Whaddya talkin' bout you!? You complainin'? You getta break from da blast furnace inna here! It almost 120 dagreeeeese inna dis mud-sucking a place! You getta a break from dis a heat to go outta der and getta da coffee and all you thinkin' aboutta is da cold!? Da snow!? I standin' a here puttin' da gimmick inta da furnace to make-a da heat and I'm a sweatin' a my ass offa here... you a dumbbell a you!
Ludwig: But Giovanni, I get for you a coffee. Da man at this store ask from me how you are doink. I tell to him that you are doink quite vell. He vas wery happy to hear that you are doink vell.
Giovanni: I'm a doing well? Whaddya tell this guy this for, huh!? Who dis guy, from da coffee-a shoppa? I know dis guy! This fat guy this guy!? Why a he care if I'm well or no? Who cares if a dis guy know if I'm a well or no? Huh?
Ludwig: We are da only customers who go to dat store dis late at the night times, Giovanni. He really likes us. He is our friend and he likes to know how ve are doink... and he is happy dat ve are doink vell!
Giovanni: Ludwig... whadda is it a good to have a friends, huh!? What a friend ever done for you in your stupid bad life? Huh!? HUH!? Tell me!
Ludwig: Giovanni, maybe it is joost da flames of dis horrible all-da-time never-it-stops buuuuurning foooornace of horrible and immense heat dat maybe are makin' your head very very hot. Maybe you should drink dis coffee vit me in the outside so to give your head da chance to coooool down, a little bit, eh, Giovanni?
Ludwig: How's your coffee, Giovanni?
Ludwig: You know of somethink? One of dis days... I'm really really really gonna do eet and make eet.
Ludwig: Someone is knocking at da doooor? Who can knock at late times like dis?
Giovanni: Must be the dumb foreman coming back-a-here because dis dumb guy forget to punch da clock on his a way outta here before, you know?
Ludwig: Moost be. Ya, ya. Moost be.
Giovanni: I'm a gonna go answer dis. I take-a you advice and get a little fresha air... and a let this dumb guy in and get a little bit of da cold air in my lungs, my friend.
Ludwig: Dat's a good idea.
..........................
Giovanni: Hello? Who dere? Is dis you... you dumb guy? You forgetta punch out after you shift you peece'a'chit? I'm a gonna letta you in you dumba peece-a you!
Hector: Ohhhhh.... ooooh my.... oh my heavens.... oh my heavens. Please, take this satchel.... you must cast it to the flames! It must be incinerated immediately! I cannot tell you what is in it! I can't let you open the satchel! Please heed my cries! You must take it to the furnace and cast this satchel straight to the flames! The world may depend on it! If you safely administer this satchel, no questions asked, into your furnace... you may very well spare the world of total and complete disarray and disaster!
Giovanni: Whatta da heck you belly achin' about, you crazy guy!? Getta you hands offa me! I 'aint putting nuthin' in nuthin' you whacked-out crazy foolish a guy you!
Giovanni: I know a flim-flam scam whenna I see-a one ya flim-flam scam man! LUDWIG! It's some-a crazy a guy! Call the crazy guy house and getta dem here! Getta dem here to haul this crazy guy outta here!
Hector: NO! YOU MUST LISTEN! I AM NOT MAD! I.... I ......
Giovanni: The crazy house 'aint even so bad, guy. They gonna calm you downna and shock you uppa and maybe whip a coupla baseball at ya... you know... freshen ya up, big time, guy.
Hector: NO!
Giovanni: Ludwig, you callin' dis guys!?
Ludwig: Oh yes, I am. I am on da telephone with da booooby hatch, right now. They vill be right over here pretty shortly, they vill.
Hector: You are making the biggest mistake of your lives! The biggest mistake of your LIVES! THE! BIGGEST! MISTAKE! OF! YOUR! LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVES!
..........................
Giovanni: Dey wrap him up good, huh? In the crazy guy jacket? They putta his arm in dis crazy guy jacket. He be okay in a coupla days, eh? Dey gonna fix 'em like a new. Make a him feel more good, you know?
Ludwig: Yaaaaa, yaaaaa, ya. Dey vill make him come to his senses and find his bearings. Uh oh...
Giovanni: What a "uh oh" you sayin'? Whaddaya talkin' from a "uh oh"? What ya mean when you say this... "uh oh"?
Ludwig: I mean... THIS... "uh oh".
Giovanni: The satchel? Oh no. We forget to give it to this guys from the crazy guy house. Oh no. Maybe we open it, huh?
Ludwig: Maybe not so good idea, ya?
Giovanni: What can it be? What a kind of crazy crappola some foolish kinda guy like dat runnin' around da town with, eh? What you think? It must be just some dumb crazy guy stuff, no?
Ludwig: Moost be, moost be. Ven I vas child back home... I used to drive da ambulance for to pick up the crazy guys.
Giovanni: You never tell a me dis, my friend. What was it a like?
Giovanni: Oh yeah?
Giovanni: GET TO THE POINT!
Giovanni: ....and?
Giovanni: What? What it was?
Giovanni: No.
Giovanni: What you did though, you picka it up?
Giovanni: Oh.
Giovanni: You are joking! You a tellin' me jokes.... it can't be a million dollars in there... why he wanna burn it up all to ashes in the furnace den for!?
Giovanni: I'm a open it.
Giovanni: I am.
Giovanni: You right, it probably just a hand or a foot... but maybe it's diamonds or munny.
Giovanni: ......
Giovanni: Damn it. It just like a you said it... it is just a body part from a dead guy. That's all.
Giovanni: Just our luck. Wealth escapes us yet again.
Giovanni: It is a dead guy's head is whadda it is.
Giovanni: Why you lookin' like dis now for? You a scared like a dumb baby over seein' a dead a guy's head? What a matter you?
Giovanni: I don't believe in any curse you dumb a guy! Stop tryin' to gimme da willies!
Giovanni: No, no, no. That's crazy talk. I never heard this nonsense before. You made this up. Where-a you-a grandmother she come from? Huh? Stupid town?
Giovanni: Where da heck dis is? Huh? You tell me. Where da heck is "Da Mernterns"??
Giovanni: Ooooooh, you talkin' 'bout da MAHNTAHNS! I know from there. Whadda is da matter wit you? You live a here in America for so long and you still a don't know how to a talk good you peece'a'chit!
Giovanni: Good idea... dis is what dat crazy this guy was telling to us from the start anyhow.
Giovanni: This dead-a-guy lookin' pretty good for bein' dead, though, no? He have a big eyes, this guy. They burn, big-time, like our furnace, this guy's eyes.
Giovanni: What is that, dead guy? How is it that you can talk to me, huh, dead guy? Ya I hate my job so much big-time one-a-hundred-a-percent and a for sure, yeah. What you sayin' to me, guy? Yeah, man, I like munny... a lot.
Giovanni: Dead guy.... you really understand me good. You are da first person on this world who a understand Giovanni, big time. What's dat you tellin' me? Ya.... I hate it so much to not have a da munny. I hate this, a lot. My biggest dream, I have, is for to have sooo much munny, guy.
Giovanni: No.
Giovanni: This dead guy's head is starting to a wig me out, Ludwig. Let's throw it da furnace....
Ludwig: ........
Giovanni: It's rollin' around! It's rollin' offa da table, even!
Giovanni: Not me either... not even once... that head is cursed, a lot, just like a you said it was.
Giovanni: I'm a kick it!
Giovanni: Okay... oh my goodness... it is rollin' right outta here, is whatta it is doing! It's a rollin' out da door... right a in front of our very own eyes!
Giovanni: I dunno.
News Anchor Man: Residents are reporting of a gigantic dead yet somehow living head that is sweeping through both the city limits and the country side... spraying Pea Sauce and Brown Sauce out of its eyes, covering everything in its path. I repeat: Pea Sauce and Brown Sauce out of the chasms of its gigantic dead eyes! Stay inside of your homes! The head is too big to be dealt with by any means available to you! It is very large. It is bigger than a building. It will cover you in filth. It will bash you and send you flying. If you go near it, it will shoot endless amounts of pea sauce and brown sauce out of its eyes at you! You will drown in a sea of pea n' brown! You shall drown in pea n' brown, concerned citizens!!
Ludwig: Oh no! Giovanni you have to listen to the radio!
Giovanni: Why? They tellin' the races!? Are they tellin' da horse races, right now? I'm a coming fast!
Ludwig: No, it's this dead guy's head, Giovanni. It's so much more bigger now than it vas before!
Giovanni: How big? Bigger than a house?
Ludwig: Ya. Bigger.
Giovanni: Wow. That's no good. What's it doing, is it doing bad stuff or what?
Ludwig: It is shooting pea n' brown out from its eyes. It's very bad. It's doing bad stuff, ya.
Giovanni: This no good.
Ludwig: I know, my friend. Ve should have thrown it into da foornace ven the chance vas upon us, no?
Giovanni: For sure, yeah.
Ludwig: I am gonna call back the booby hatch and ask what this crazy guy who brought dis tink here is doink.
Giovanni: Good idea, maybe that crazy doctor guy know something about dis dead guy head dat we don't even know about!
(Part II shall continue next week, gentle listeners. It seems Hector, Violet, and Smith are now all inside a mental institution thanks to their dealings with the head. Thankfully our friends Giovanni and Ludwig were not swayed by the temptations of the charming Head and may be able to reach Hector Zorloff and his cohorts and hopefully figure out a way to stop this thing... but... it could very well be far too late... as the Head is now far bigger than a house and for some reason is shooting Pea Sauce and Brown Sauce out of his ever-living dead eyes. Tune in next week for the exciting Part II of Part II!
Let Us Continue....
We ask you once again to turn your screen brightness down.... everyboooooooooody.
Announcer: Our heads get filled with so many fears and worries but the funny thing about it is... in a strange way... do our fears and worries become our friends? Do we learn over the years to trust them? At least our pain and sorrows can't be taken away from us like everything else can be.
Things that have material weight... jewels, fancy automobiles, luxuries of all forms... can be taken away from us at any time without warning. In a way, isn't our pain our own? A thing we have that can never truly be taken away from us? Strangely, because it cannot ever be taken away from us... it is more a part of our own lives than any common material possession could really ever be. There's Safety in Pain. Your worries and sadnesses may not exist... but at least they are foreverly yours.
Can you get addicted to fear? Addicted to pain? They are a constant never-altering fundamental mainstay in all of our lives... almost like pillars we learn to lean on....because, well, at least our worries are always there where we know where to find them. Should we lean on our worries? Should we lean on our pain as if it is an old friend? That's a great question and one this play is dealing with but first let's hear a word from our sponsor before we continue...
In this 30 second short-spot we shall hear of the lament of a young woman who just can't seem to find any pep. I hope you enjoy this commercial....
Pitchman: In any given town in any given place.... we find young women who are down on their luck and riddled with lackadaisical bemusement at their current humdrum condition. They are cursing the heavens wondering when their betterment shall find them and whence they can finally uncurse themselves from the torment of their unfulfilling and lacking of pep lives.
Why wouldn't you know it... here comes one now....
Wrinkly ol' Jane: Oh fiddlesticks and crumple dumplings... I'm starting to think my humdrum condition will be for an eternity!
Pitchman: Oh come now, Wrinkly ol' Jane... you shouldn't be so hard on your old wrinkled self.
Wrinkly ol' Jane: What good is it to have any hope at all, anymore? I just have to face to facts... I have absolutely no pep whats-so-ever and men think I'm just some withered flower gently rocking back-to-forth in the lonesome breezes of time. Once I was a vermilion shade, sweet-smelling tulip that got almost a hundred dates a month... but now... I'm just a bum. A complete bum.
Pitchman: They don't think that. They don't think you're a complete bum, Jane. It serves you no purpose to think those thoughts.
Wrinkly ol' Jane: You're just humoring me, you fine fellow. I know a goat when I see one... a run-down one at that. I have mirrors, you know. I'm no spring chicken anymore, sailor. In fact... I'm not even a hen... I'm just a pile of chicken bones bein' bleeched in the hot sun!Pitchman: Now, now... you're not THAT homely, Wrinkly Jane. You'll never break free from the shackles of worry if you keep beating yourself up, Wrinkles.
Pitchman: Well... truth be told, old gal... I wasn't always this young, full-of-pep, and sweep-ladies-off-of-their-feetingly Dashing! I was once an old wrinkle-fest just you like you are.
Wrinkly ol' Jane: You don't say?Pitchman: Oh yes... but I changed. A real metamorphosis, sister! Five years to the day, now. Back then, before I turned my life around miraculously, I was probably even uglier than you.
Pitchman: Well, almost as ugly.... maybe slightly less... but close.
Pitchman: Yep. I was a total wash-out, a beatnik, I wasn't even showering.
Pitchman: Nope.
Pitchman: But... then one day... five years ago to this very day... all that changed. I found something that set me free from my shackles of self loathing and constant debilitating worry.
Pitchman: Wrinkly Jane... I went down to my local electronics retailer and purchased a purchase that saved my life and renewed me with complete pep. Would you like to know what it was?
Pitchman: I purchased a small compact humidifier that plugs into any standard wall outlet and is available in two stunningly interesting colors! Off-White and Egg-Yoke Yellow. It takes the air from your own house, apartment, or even motel room... and transforms that air into more wetter and refined air that will improve your breathing tremendously and set you on the right path towards totally re-inventing yourself as a contemporary new-age woman that many sailors would want to talk to at length!
Pitchman: Hardly.... why don't we put our hollow words to the iron-clad tests of human reality, my dear. How about you high-tail it down to your electronic retailer and put in an order for a unit... give it a week or two to change your run-down low-pep life... then go down to your local corner tube bar and see if any of the sailors see anything they would like to converse with at great length and get back to me, Wrinkles.
Pitchman: Trust me. If I was you... knowing what you know now about the secrets to living a full pep life... the only worry I'd have in my mind was whether I wanted Off-White or Egg-Yoke Yellow, old gal.
Pitchman: Off you go now, Wrinkly Jane... don't forget to save your serial number on the box... it can be mailed in for a chance to win many luxurious prizes!
Wrinkly ol' Jane: Thank you so much! You're a saint in human skin!
.................................
Pitchman: My goodness, after all these weeks, if it isn't Wrinkly ol' Jane! I haven't seen you in ages, old gal!
One Hundred Dates Jane: Wrinkly ol' Jane? Who's that? You're looking at One Hundred a month Dates Jane!
Pitchman: You don't say? May I ask... did you get the Off-White or the Egg-Yoke Yellow?
One Hundred Dates Jane: Egg-Yoke Yellow, baby! Now if you'll excuse me I have a hot-date!
Pitchman: Oh my! The pep and energy has been restored to another broken-down ol' pile'a'bones! You could be just like Jane.... turning the wrinkles of today into the hot-dates of tomorrow! The thundering skies have opened and renewed the fire of youth into another one! Yes, it looks like my work here is done... now excuse me... I have places to be and things to sell......
Announcer: Thank you. In reality it seems worry is easy to solve... or at least some smooth talkers sure make it appear so. However in our play... the fears have gotten out-of-hand... the disembodied Head of the Dead.... has eaten the fears of the populace for weeks and is now bigger than a building. It appears the nucleus of its fester-feast was built off of Violet's worries over the quality of her sauces.... and even now that the Head is gigantic it still has that worry at its very core. Pea sauce and Brown sauce are its core nucleus... its central beating heart ... and that nucleus of fear has rolled around in countless other fears and anxieties and has built itself into a flying juggernaut of mindless destruction.
As The Ever-Growing Deceased Head covers the townships in a constant stream of Pea n' Brown... one must begin to wonder... how was it ever allowed to grow at this rate? Why did humanity fill the Dead Head with so many unique and delicious flavors of forms of suffering? A dead head that feasts upon the materialized fears of society as if it were a bat sucking the non-coagulated blood out of a dead cow.... surely is a recipe for problems... one would have to wonder if it is indeed the End for our friends... Hector, Violet, and Smith... as well as our favorite duo of Ludwig and Giovanni....
.... the conclusion of this ghastly tale shall find you on Halloween Night! Until then, keep your screen brightness down...
..... everyboooooooooooooooooooody.
Part III
Welcome back, now once again please turn your screen brightness down.... everyboooooooooody.
Announcer: Let us now join Hector in the asylum for the mentally deranged, shall we? A facility headed by the just and fair, Mr. Wertz.
Mr. Wertz: It is time for your session, Mr. Zorloff.
Hector: No....no....please. I cannot handle another one.
Mr. Wertz: You'll never get better without your treatments, Hector.
Mr. Wertz: This is the most advanced treatment of the age, Hector. You know that... being a doctor yourself who's requested forms upon forms over the years and has had many committed here.... including your own wife!
Hector: Yes! But! But the HEAD made me do it! The Head made me do it!
Mr. Wertz: Yes.... the Head. It is now the size of the Sun.... it shall destroy us all. A foreign man called here a few months ago and told us you knew something about the Head... but we didn't believe him.
Hector: They could have stopped this! The men at the Steel Mill! They could have put an END to this MADNESS if they only could have trusted me!
Mr. Wertz: Who would trust a man like you? A man who sends his own wife to the Booby Hatch?
Hector: Is she here? Please let me see my beloved one last time.... before the Head destroys the entirety of Earth.
Mr. Wertz: She's no longer with us, Hector.
Mr. Wertz: The treatments proved too much for her many weeks ago.... and she died whilst we tried to save her. We gave her as much of a thrashing as we could to scare the demons from her mind... but in the end her demons were too powerful for us. She kept whaling into the night, into the throws of death, whaling that it was all her fault.... all her meat loaf's and her own fault.
Hector: SAVE HER!? Your torture couldn't save anyone from anything!
Mr. Wertz: It doesn't matter now, nothing really matters now that the Head is going to destroy us and then move on to the Sun and destroy it. All is lost. All we can do is honor our oaths and continue your treatment... at least you will be Well when the World Ends!
Hector: No! No! Put that down! Put down that object! You cannot throw it at me anymore! I... I... I cannot bear it!
Mr. Wertz: Come on now.... it's the least we can do for you in these troubling times.
*GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONG*
Announcer: We thank you for tuning in to tonight's play. In reality, fears don't weigh anything and deceased cursed heads can't grow into out of control entities that destroy our world... but figuratively... can they?
Do you let your fears eat away at you? Rendering you immobilized and paralyzed to your surroundings even though they don't really exist and aren't really there? If you could actually remove all the things that weigh you down inside of your own mind... how much do you think they would weigh... a ton? Ten tons? One hundred?
Perhaps we can learn something about Fear. Perhaps we can learn something from Hector Zorloff and the others. Perhaps we should stop obsessing over our past pains and foreseen future sufferings for a moment and live in the present tense. Enjoy the time we have and hopefully we can let those obsessesed painful thoughts linger longer when we meet our own demises... as we'll have more than enough time to obsess over fear when we are No More.
Goodnight.... and Lights Out Everybody.
Hold up....
Bonus Feature: Secret Ending
Wayne: Schaaaa riiiiight... ex-squeeze me? That ending was lame, Garth.
Garth: Tell me about it, Wayne! That Doctor guy was a complete Sphincter!
Wayne: Schaaaaaaaaa, you called it. That play wigged me out and made me feel like the back seat of the Mirthmobile!
Garth: Ya, right after someone blew chunks in it!
Wayne: Schaa.
Garth: What about a Ghostbuster ending, Wayne?
Wayne: Good call.
Squeeegly-doo, Squeeegly-doo, Squeeegly-doo......
Announcer: ...and now, we shall rejoin our play at the Steel Mill with our favorite pals Ludwig and Giovanni.....
Ludwig: I am gonna call back the booby hatch and ask what this crazy guy who brought dis tink here is doink.
Giovanni: Whaddya talkin' 'bout you dumb-a-bell-a guy you!? What's this crazy nutty outta-of-it guy gonna do about a gigantic Head that is a shooting Pea n' Brown outta his got damned eyes, eh!? Nuttin' at all that's what! Nuttin'! Ya know who we should call, Ludwig?Ludwig: Who should ve call?
Giovanni: Da GHOSTBUSTERS!
Ludwig: Ya. Good idea. Ya.
Giovanni: I'm a genius guy, me, no?
Ludwig: Yes, hello, is it da Ghostbusters?
Janine: Ghostbusters! Whaddya WANT!?
Ludwig: Oh yes, uhhh dis is Ludwig callink you, you guys are for serious, yes? Verll, ve vish to report a gigantic ever-growink head-thing that ees spewink Pea and Brown all over the darned Town!Janine: Yes of course they're serious, Ludwig. You do? You haaave? No kidding?
.............WE GOOOOOOT ONE!
Gonna tell you a story
About a little Steel Mill I knooooooow
That had a real big problem
With some big-big kooky Heaaaaaaaad
This Head was makin'
The whole city lose controoooooooooooooool
Ray: Egon, Peter! Does this pole still work!?
Peter: I don't see why it wouldn't, sweetheart.
Egon: I don't see why you wish to barrel in headstrong into a situation of which we have very little understanding of, at the present moment, Ray. I think we should conduct a thorough background check on this ever-growing head before we rush off into battle.Peter: You must be great at parties, Egon. You're just so much fun!
Ray: Egon's right, Pete. There's no point going to bust this disgusting Head if we don't know anything about our game plan. I'm going to consult the Tobin Spirit Guide.
Egon: Yes, I concur. Meanwhile I'll run a benchmark dry-run test on the proton packs to see if they're tuned.
Peter: Great ideas guys.... meanwhile I'll be calling Dana and cancelling ANOTHER hot-date with her on account of my work. All work and no play.......and you know the rest. Sigh.
Ray: Here it is. Tobin's Spirit Guide has an entry for an out-of-control ever-increasing floating head. It calls it the "Pitchman"... an ancient salesman from Sumeria... who gets reincarnated every one hundred years to reap people's currency from them with his haunting words. It feeds on people's uncertainty and worries like some kind of ancient Sumerian blood-sucking sponge!
Peter: Just great... I get to cancel my date with Dana, who's probably in a little black dress waiting for me to come meet her... for a date... with a ghost... an ancient Salesman Ghost from Ancient Babylon who feeds on people's fears. What a life!
Egon: Sumerian....not Babylonian, Peter.
Peter: Oooooooh, well that changes everything, Egon!
Ray: How're the packs, Easy-E?
Egon: The benchmark tests seem normal. They are purring like little nuclear kittens, Ray!
Peter: Let's suit up, boys!
Ray: Right behind ya, Pete!
Peter: Doh........
Ray: Ray................
Egon: ..........................Egon!
Peter: ...
Ray: Never gets old.
Peter: It really doesn't, Ray.
Ludwig: Dat must be dem!
Giovanni: Dey here! Great! If a anyone know how-to-a bust a head itsa deez guys!
Peter: Never fear.... the Ghostbusters are here.
Ray: Hello citizens, please direct us to the Head and we'll show this Sumerian Salesman how we do things in the Big Apple!Peter: If this Sumerian flim-flam head thinks it can float into our City and eat our fears... it has another thing coming! He can't have my fears! Those are mine!
Egon: There it is. Five o'clock! Let's light it up!
Ray: Wow! It's a big one! How is it flyin' so fast for something so big! It must've eaten some pretty healthy and nutritious hopes n' dreams or somethin'!
Giovanni: Thatta head eatta my dreams n' hopes, big time! He a no good! Blast dat thing for me, Ghostbusters!
Ludwig: Ya! Blast dat tink gud! It is a cooorsed head from da merterns!
Egon: The what?
Peter: Ex-squeeze me? From where?
Giovanni: This dumbbell talkin' 'bout the Mahntahns! With the rocks and the things!
Ray: Oh. One of the Sumerian Salesman's every-one-hundred-years re-incarnations must've been in Bavaria, then. Makes sense.Egon: Peter! Watch your flank at 10 o'clock!
Peter: Whoa! This thing is shooting vomit or turds or something!
Ray: I got some in my mouth... mmhmmm.... not bad. It's sauce!
Egon: Don't. Eat. The SAUCE, RAY!
Ray: I hear ya loud n' clear Egon!
Peter: Guys, this is a class-four floating vomit machine! We need a game plan! Let's hit it with the Triangular Beam play...
Egon: Good call, Peter. Let's get into an isosceles formation and focus our proton streams from three congruent yet hard-to-avoid angles! But...
Ray: But? Yeah believe me, we know.....
Peter: Yeah, E.... we, know. Don't cross the streams.
Egon: Bingo!
Ray: I'm in position! I got my stream on it! It's slowing this dirty head down! Light'em'up Venkman but don't hit my stream... or miss and burn my face off!Peter: I'll try, Ray. Bam! Two beams on it! We be fast....
Egon: ....and they be slow! My beam is on it! We have the Triangular Strike employed it's only a matter of time until it stops fighting and we can reel this bad boy in!
Ray: Who's got the traps?
Egon: .....
Peter: Why are you looking at me, Egon? You know I don't do the traps! I'm a buster! I bust! You guys do the trap stuff!Ray: No traps? Egon! You don't have any traps?
Egon: Sorry, that's a negative, Ray.
Peter: Uh oh....
Ray: What's "uh oh?"
Giovanni: Yeah-a you guys? What's a "uh oh"?
Egon: It's preparing another sauce attack... Ludwig, Giovanni... I suggest you return inside the mill and find shelter... it's gonna get messy out here.Ludwig: Okay, ve vill!
Ray: Keep your beams on it! It'll lessen its power so it can't unleash a full scale sauce attack!
Peter: Good plan, Ray. I guess we'll just keep our beams on it, all night, and every ten minutes, I guess, we'll be sprayed with Pea n' Brown until we finally drown!Egon: At least we'll lessen the damage to the city, for the time being, if we keep our beams on it.... either way... it was nice knowing you, Peter.
Peter: I never told you this, Egon.... but you're my best friend.
Ray: What about me?
Peter: Yeah, I like you too, Ray.... it was a pleasure knowing you.
*SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEMMMNNNNNNNECH!*
(tire sounds breaking fast!)
You seem a little strange
Something about you not the same
Nowhere to hide from the feeling running through my veins
It was the frightening truth
That way just ain't no youth
Baby, you got the will, you got the way
Saving the Day! Ooooooooh! Saving the DAY!
Egon: It's the Ecto-1!
Peter: Now that's a sight for sore eyes, eh guys?
Ray: WINSTON!
Winston: Janine told me you guys went to bust some whacky head? Damn, why are you all covered in turds? Is it some kind of a crap head?Peter: It's a long story, Winston.
Ray: It's not turds, it's sauce. It tasted good.
Egon: Stop eating the sauce, Ray!
Winston: Looks like you guys could use some traps, am I right?
Egon: We got it locked down with a three-beam special.... we just need to trap this thing!
Winston: Damn, nice isosceles beam-formation, fellas. Let me just slide a trap right under this floatin' head!
Peter: Nice roll! Have you been bowling lately?
Winston: Nope, bocce ball, Pete. It's sort of like bowling but on grass. It's very fun and a nice light exercise. It also helps me with my trap rolls. I landed this one right under that ghost!Egon: Hit it! Get this ghost in the box!
Winston: Here we go.......Damn, it's too big.... even with three beams on it and a well placed trap right under it... it's still fighting!
Peter: It was nice knowing you, Winston.
Winston: Hold on. I'm gonna try something I've been experimenting with on busts lately.
Ray: The triple trap?
Egon: What's the triple trap?
Ray: Winston cooked it up on a late night bust, that me and him were on, the other week. Basically, you put one trap under the ghost, on the ground, and open it with your foot.... then you spin two traps in your hands like two lassos until they are moving so fast they don't look like two spinning traps any longer but just a circle.... then you open both spinning lasso traps with your hands. So, one foot on the ground trap.... and two in the palms of your hand.... and you hold all three traps down until the ghost finds his way into one of them!Egon: That's incredible, Winston! How come I never thought of this?
Winston: Things that work in the lab and things that work in the field are two different things, E. I've only actually done this once.... but I think I can pull it off again. Here we go!Egon: He's spinning the ropes of the traps so fast the radius of the trap's trajectory has become circular and is combining with the trap's field spectrum on the ground to form a triple trap!
Peter: Keep your beams focused on this thing! We almost got it!
Winston: We got the tools...... and we got..... THE TALENT!
Ray: It's almost in!
Egon: Hold on!
Peter: Yes!
Winston: We got it.......
Peter: .... and the flowers are still standing!
MORAL: YOU CALL THE GHOSTBUSTERS! YA THAT'S WHO YOU CALL!!!
No comments:
Post a Comment