739 lines
32 KiB
Plaintext
739 lines
32 KiB
Plaintext
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OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO oOOOO OOOO. OOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
|
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OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO" .OOOOOO OOOOOo OOOO OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
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OOOO oOOOOOOO OOOOOOO. OOOO oOOOO
|
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OOOO .OOOO OOOO OOOOOOOOo OOOO OOOO"
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OOOO oOOOO OOOO OOOO "OOOO. OOOO OOOOo .OOOO'
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OOOO .OOOO" OOOO OOOO OOOOoOOOO "OOOO. oOOOO
|
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OOOO oOOOOOOO..OOOO OOOO "OOOOOOO OOOOoOOOO"
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OOOO .OOOO"""OOOOOOOO OOOO OOOOOO "OOOOOOO'
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OOOO oOOOO ""OOOO OOOO "OOOO OOOOOO
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|-----------------------------------------------------------------------------|
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| |
|
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| There Ain't No Justice |
|
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| |
|
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| #62 |
|
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| |
|
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|-----------------------------------------------------------------------------|
|
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- Not Necessarily the Evening News -
|
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by A Whole Crowd of Folks
|
||
|
||
|
||
<Opening Scene>
|
||
|
||
<The Living room of Mr. & Mrs. John Q. Public, seated on an old and moth
|
||
eaten couch, watching television. Both wear dazed, tired expressions. Their
|
||
TV set is an old consloe model... the color is bad, making the faces of the
|
||
people on the screen all look as though they are seasick.>
|
||
|
||
<There is a cat perched on top of their TV set, basking in the warmth the
|
||
old vaccum tubes produce. It rolls over in its sleep, knocking a vase off
|
||
the top of the TV. Mr. & Mrs. John Q., hypnotized by their TV, barely
|
||
notice. They are watching CNN, as the commentator dornes on about some
|
||
insurrection somewhere.>
|
||
|
||
<Suddenly, the screen dissovles into a sea of static, quickly replaced by a
|
||
highly intriquite neon-day-glo test pattern. A bearded face looms into
|
||
view, and speaks in a deep monotone, saying:>
|
||
|
||
"Do not attempt to adjust your Television set. We are in complete control.
|
||
We control the vertical, we control the horizontal. We have complete
|
||
control of the satellite, and we're not going to give it back."
|
||
|
||
<Cut to the Newsdesk. The bearded face sits to the left, dressed in what
|
||
appears to be a black T-shirt. His hair, long and brown, cascades down over
|
||
his sholders, and crooked teeth can be seen in his smile. On the right,
|
||
Madonna leers into the camera, cupping her left breast in her right hand.
|
||
She appears to be naked.>
|
||
|
||
<The bearded man speaks.>
|
||
|
||
"This is Ned Copper, bringing you the REAL news, courtesy of the CNN
|
||
satellite. In our lead story tonight, a nationwide manhunt is currently
|
||
underway for Mike Lewis, leader of the notorious telecom-terrorist
|
||
organization P.U.S.S. (Phuck U.S. Squint) According to official sorces, Mr.
|
||
Lewis entered the headquarters of U.S. Squint last Friday afternoon and
|
||
entered the office of John Anonymous, Regional Director for Security. Mr.
|
||
Lewis bound and gagged Mr. Anonymous, and after waiting for the normal
|
||
business hours to end, wired the building's main computer into the over
|
||
2000 phonelines present and proceeded to wardial every 1-900 exchange in
|
||
the country. Meanwhile, he and his associates spread out though the
|
||
building, uprooting plastic plants, shredding documents, and engaging in
|
||
general mayhem. An unconfirmed report (well, a rumor, really) also says
|
||
that while in the building, Mr. Lewis used one of the telephone lines to
|
||
personally call up Bill Clinton, Saddam Hussein, Kennedy (that chick from
|
||
MTV), and Richard Nixon on an international conference call and insult them
|
||
for over an hour."
|
||
|
||
"When police arrived on the scene Monday morning, they arrived to find the
|
||
entire Squint building wrapped in used toilet paper. Police promptly
|
||
surrounded the building, and called for the surrender of Lewis and his
|
||
companions. Lewis's people responded by firing automatic weapons at the
|
||
police, killing 4 and injuring 23. Lewis, addressing the police via
|
||
loudspeaker, demanded a helicopter, ten million dollars in small bills, and
|
||
the immediate release of all hackers and phreakers held in jails and
|
||
prisons across the country."
|
||
|
||
<A hand appears in the lower left hand of the camera view, holding up two
|
||
fingers.>
|
||
|
||
"We'll have more on this and other stories in just a few moments, but
|
||
first, a few commercial announcements."
|
||
|
||
<Camera cuts to the scene of a landfill somewhere in central New Jersey.
|
||
Camera pans left past scenes of partially buried refuse, and a thrilling
|
||
contralto voice over speaks....>
|
||
|
||
GARBAGE CITY!!
|
||
|
||
Ever in need of some 3 month old used tissues? Or some decade-old
|
||
egg cartons? Of COURSE you do! Well then here's the store for you! Our
|
||
shelves are filled with the finest garbage money can buy! That's right, we
|
||
have in our huge stocks such valuable products as:
|
||
|
||
-dead, rotting, smelly, slippery, slimy, fish.
|
||
-cans o' spam (unopened, of course)
|
||
-various tidbits of electronic junk
|
||
- much much more!
|
||
|
||
Call today at 555-6669 to get a FREE price guide of all our trash!
|
||
|
||
And remember our slogan!
|
||
|
||
<singing>
|
||
|
||
Garbage City...We've got da sheeit you need at less!
|
||
|
||
<Camera cuts again, briefly showing the newsdesk. Ned Copper has his head
|
||
thrown back in a large grin, and from the angle of Madonna's derriere, its
|
||
obvious her mouth is busy right now....>
|
||
|
||
<Map on screen, shows the USSR, gradually breaking up and turning from red
|
||
to white as the narrator speaks.>
|
||
|
||
Narr.: "Everyone knows about the fall of communism. The historic breakup of
|
||
a world power, and a whole economic system. It brought democracy, but also
|
||
chaos."
|
||
|
||
<Russia begins to turn from white to green.>
|
||
|
||
Narr. "What few people know about, though, are the historic opportunities
|
||
now being presented to...entrepreneurs."
|
||
|
||
<Screen changes, showing a long, sleek, metal rocket. As the narrarator
|
||
continues, the camera pans almost carressingly along the sleek, smooth
|
||
contours of the thing.>
|
||
|
||
"Thousands of nuclear missiles have disappeared from the former Soviet
|
||
Union in recent months. Everyone wonders where they went. Except for us,
|
||
Black Hat Resellers. And, if you act now, one or more of these beauties
|
||
could end up parked in your back yard! If you call today, we'll even erect
|
||
a launchpad!"
|
||
|
||
<screen changes to show launchpad. people mill about.>
|
||
|
||
"How much would you expect to pay to become a nuclear power? For a missile
|
||
that could destroy Hiroshima more than ten times over? $92,031,097,401?
|
||
Maybe even $829,302,199,234? No! With our special limited time offer, you
|
||
can get all this for the LOW LOW PRICE of $19,950,000!"
|
||
|
||
<Mushroom Cloud appears>
|
||
|
||
"But is that all? If you call today, you can get a free gift of..."
|
||
|
||
<screen changes again to show...>
|
||
|
||
"A full squadron of Migs! How could you ever forgive yourself if you missed
|
||
this INCREDIBLE offer? Call now to order! 1-800-WANT-NUK! Visa and
|
||
Mastercard accepted."
|
||
|
||
<Camera cuts again. No view of the newsdesk, but a faint moaning can be
|
||
heard in the background.>
|
||
|
||
|
||
Announcer: "To get your day off to a perfect start, eat the cereal that
|
||
feeds your spirit as well as your stomach!"
|
||
|
||
<cut to box>
|
||
|
||
Announcer: "Jesus Chrispies, the Breakfast of Believers!"
|
||
|
||
<The box has brightly colored letters spelling out the name. Below, a
|
||
full-color crucifix protrudes from a bowl of the cereal.>
|
||
|
||
<Cut to a boy dressed as a Young Republican, holding a spoon. A King James
|
||
Bible sits next to his cereal bowl.>
|
||
|
||
Boy: "I *love* Jesus Chrispies! The wine-flavored marshmallow crosses taste
|
||
great, and the wafer flakes stay crispy in milk!"
|
||
|
||
<cut to fundie couple, sitting in easy chairs on opposite sides of a
|
||
fireplace full of blazing books. More books are piled on the side by the
|
||
firelplace tools for reserve fuel.>
|
||
|
||
Announcer: "And parents love Jesus Chrispies too!"
|
||
|
||
Mom: "I know little George is getting plenty of fiber from the whole-wheat
|
||
wafer flakes. And Jesus Chrispies uses only natural wine flavoring."
|
||
|
||
Dad: "It gives George complete nutrition and a valuable sacrament too. What
|
||
more could a right-thinking parent ask?"
|
||
|
||
<cut to a table full of paraphenalia.>
|
||
|
||
Announcer: "And in specially marked boxes, you'll find a special surprise
|
||
gift: Dan Quayle ears, a Scripture Decoder Ring, a fetus doll, or a Desert
|
||
Storm commemorative coin! Unlike sinful movie memorabilia, these are fun,
|
||
and won't corrupt your mind!"
|
||
|
||
Lame jingle: Why eat a cereal that isn't spiritual?
|
||
|
||
<Camera cuts back to newsdesk. Ned Copper is busy straightening his
|
||
T-shirt, as Madonna wipes a dribble of white fluid from her chin. Both grin
|
||
at the cameras.>
|
||
|
||
"Continuing our story: Lewis continued to argue with the police for twenty
|
||
minutes, brandishing his Uzi and eventually bringing Mr. Anonymous to the
|
||
window to demonstrate that he did, indeed have a hostage. During the
|
||
negotiations, Mr. Anonymous was hit by a sniper bullet fired at Mr. Lewis.
|
||
The terrorists responded by hurling Mr. Anonymous out of the tenth story
|
||
window from which they had been conducting the negotiations. Police
|
||
S.W.A.T. teams stormed the building minutes later, only to discover that
|
||
the terrorists had somehow fled the premises. Eric Swastikka, Regional Vice
|
||
President for U.S. Squint, estimates the damages to the building to be in
|
||
excess of 12 million dollars, and was quoted as saying: "We have not, as
|
||
yet, received a bill for the 900 calls placed over the weekend, but we're
|
||
sure its going to be a doozie."
|
||
|
||
<Camera pans right, showing Madonna. She smiles into the camera, licks her
|
||
lips suggestively, and begins to speak.>
|
||
|
||
"It's the latest thing in the late-night wars...late-night shows run by
|
||
failed Presidential candidates. It's just been announced that George Bush
|
||
will be replacing David Letterman as the host of Late Night, which will
|
||
become Late Night with George Bush, while H. Ross Perot is reportedly going
|
||
to receive his own show on CBS, which will run against Late Night, and for
|
||
which he is paying the production costs. Although the title is yet to be
|
||
decided, Perot says he is leaning toward "All Ears". A spokesman for the
|
||
network claimed they'd drop the show if Perot insisted on that title, but
|
||
that they'd be sure to think of a better one before it aired. We have here
|
||
a press release from the former President on his new show."
|
||
|
||
<shot of Bush, cameras flashing in the background>
|
||
|
||
"Wouldn't be prudent to watch Ross's show. I mean, some folks-- a lot of
|
||
folks say that Dan Quayle, reminds them of Mickey Mouse. I say, he reminds
|
||
me of my dog, Millie, except that my wife can't kiss the dog, it's
|
||
unhealthy, but that's OK, she can't kiss Dan Quayle either. But Ross
|
||
reminds me of Dumbo, with the big ears, even if he can't fly. And my show,
|
||
we'll have Schwarzkopf, Stormin' Norman, as our bandleader. Can Jay Leno
|
||
say that? Can Ross Perot say that? Can they say that in Japan? No, of
|
||
course not. So of course, you have to watch my show. Watch it, then decide
|
||
if you like it. Then, watch it some more."
|
||
|
||
"Perot, on the other hand, calls for a groundswell of grass-roots support
|
||
for what he calls "late-night TV for the American people." He refuses,
|
||
however, to go into any detail about the format of the show."
|
||
|
||
<Camera pans left again, past Ned Copper, to show a young man dressed in an
|
||
urban camo business suit. A small plaque in front of him identifies him as
|
||
Lupus Yonderboy. He speaks.>
|
||
|
||
"News Flash! It has been reported to me today that the one and only, Thor
|
||
the Thunder God, has found his left foot! Insiders say that Thor was
|
||
sitting on the floor of his jail cell in a puddle of piss playing with his
|
||
legos and linking logs. It is said that he was trying like hell to get one
|
||
of the logs to connect up to a red lego brick. Of course, legos & linking
|
||
logs are not interchangable, so Thor was having a rather difficult time."
|
||
|
||
"Says one observer 'Thor was really determined to make that log connect..
|
||
he was really making a big thing of it.. in his frenzy he grabbed his left
|
||
foot by accident and just froze..'."
|
||
|
||
"According to sources, Thor had never found out that he had feet before.
|
||
They say he sat there for long hours just staring at the foot, then moving
|
||
it around with his hand. Dr. James Loffman is investigating."
|
||
|
||
<Cut to Dr. Loffman, seated at his desk>
|
||
|
||
Dr. Loffman: "'For someone with Thor's EXTREMLY low mental-age, it was a
|
||
truely great accomplishment for him to find out that he had a foot'."
|
||
|
||
"Thor is now being moved to Dr. Loffman's research lab in Outer Mongolia.
|
||
More reports as they become available.."
|
||
|
||
<Cut to shot of Thor, trussed securely in a straight jacket, struggling
|
||
with two neanderthal orderlies down a white tiled halway. They eventually
|
||
hurl him into the padded rear of a step van.>
|
||
|
||
"In this reporters opinion, Thor is an impotent dicksnot and should be
|
||
either shot on site or placed as Vice-President to replace Gore. There's no
|
||
way on earth that someone would DARE to kill Clinton with someone like Thor
|
||
sitting in.."
|
||
|
||
<Pan right back to Ned Copper. He smiles.>
|
||
|
||
"More news in a moment, after we pause for a few more commercial
|
||
announcements..."
|
||
|
||
<Cut to the interior of a small diner somewhere. A dozen vikings are
|
||
scattered in various booths, banging their utensils against the formica,
|
||
chanting:>
|
||
|
||
"Spam! Spam! Spam! Spam! Spam! SPAM! Spam! Spam! Spam! Spam! Spam! Spam!"
|
||
|
||
<A falsely exited voice overlays the Viking's chant>
|
||
|
||
What's all the ruckus about the world's most famous lunchmeat? Every-one
|
||
loves SPAM!
|
||
|
||
<Camera cuts to Jesus, nailed to the Cross.>
|
||
|
||
Jesus: "Spam! I love it!"
|
||
|
||
<cuts to Madonna, naked (as usual..)>
|
||
|
||
Madonna: "I love so much, I fuck it!"
|
||
|
||
Off Camera Voice: "Er, you fuck everything, eh?"
|
||
|
||
Madonna: "Yes? Your point?"
|
||
|
||
<cuts to Stan the Flying Roach>
|
||
|
||
Stan: "Me and my buddies love spam! We use it to fight crime and uphold the
|
||
law. And hey, it makes a great pet!"
|
||
|
||
<the sound of the Viking's chant swells>
|
||
|
||
"SPAM-de-de-SPAM! Wonderful Spam!"
|
||
|
||
<Off Camera Voice:>
|
||
|
||
"So go out and raid your nearest inconvience store and demand SPAM!"
|
||
|
||
<Extreme close-up of can label, Viking chant reaches its cresendo:>
|
||
|
||
////// ////////// //// // // /
|
||
// // // /////// / / / / /
|
||
// // // // // / / / / /
|
||
///// /////// /////////// / / / / /
|
||
// // // // / / / / /
|
||
// // // // / / /
|
||
// // // // / / ///
|
||
/////// // // // / / ///
|
||
|
||
|
||
<Camera cuts to a blazing white light. Out of the light, words of red fire
|
||
slowly stalk across the screen, like the opening of Star Wars. A voice
|
||
sounding remarkably like Robert Tilton's narrates the words in an anxious
|
||
tone:>
|
||
|
||
It's the.....
|
||
DENNIS FOLEY BIBLE
|
||
|
||
Specially translated for the mentally impaired! Taken from the
|
||
original Hebrew and Greek, this translation is high on accuracy! Read the
|
||
events of Jesus from a whole new perspective! here's an excerpt from the
|
||
New Testament:
|
||
|
||
<a slightly tipsy, fake irish voice narrates>
|
||
|
||
"hay sant pual i fuked yur sistre do me a faver and giv her a nickle fer me
|
||
she was godo"
|
||
|
||
<The Bob Tiltonesque voice resumes:>
|
||
|
||
Or reread the famed Battle between David and Goliath:
|
||
|
||
<Fake Irish:> "hay lok at davideo run away form that big snotliker goliath
|
||
hay dav got a slingsot whats he doin hay goliath feel"
|
||
|
||
<Tiltonesque:> "So go out and demand that your local church begin using the
|
||
NEW Foley Bible! This newest version of the world's greatest book is only
|
||
49.95, so run out and get it TODAY!"
|
||
|
||
<Lights fade, and cut to an overhead stock laboratory shot.>
|
||
|
||
And now from Derf Enterprises...
|
||
The DerfLink..][ !
|
||
|
||
<generic announcer's voice>: "You've heard of the world's greatest
|
||
invention, the Derflink I, right?" <his tone indicates he's expecting the
|
||
answer yes...>
|
||
|
||
Cameraman: "Well, umm, actually, I...ah.."
|
||
|
||
A:<yelling> "Shut up!"
|
||
|
||
C: "Um, but.."
|
||
|
||
A: "NOW!"
|
||
|
||
C: "Oh fine."
|
||
|
||
A: "Anyway, the newest version of this wonderful instrument allows you not
|
||
just derflink computer equipment, but various objects, such as cheese
|
||
graters, cat tails, Spam, and other household items. For example:"
|
||
|
||
<Camera cuts to a lab filled with beakers and other lab-type equipment.
|
||
Scientist enters with cow and microwave, and the incredible DerfLink ][ !>
|
||
|
||
Scientist: "See? A perfectly unusable cow and microwave...but...when
|
||
derflinked.."
|
||
|
||
<presses button>
|
||
|
||
<Cow and microwave fizzle, swirl, and become one fucked up looking cow>
|
||
|
||
S: "Ack, that's not right.."
|
||
|
||
Announcer <cutting him off>: "Well, that's all we have time for, so just go
|
||
out and get this wonderful product of American labor..today!"
|
||
|
||
<Camera cus back to Ned Copper. Madonna stands behind him, framing his head
|
||
with her breasts. She caresses his body, while he tries to keep a straight
|
||
voice and continue the news.>
|
||
|
||
Ned: "The Pope, missing for over six days, was finally found today in
|
||
Dublin, where Sinead O'Connor dragged him out on the stage and mauled him
|
||
with a chainsaw. Before the lynch mob arrived, he had been hacked into
|
||
thirteen pieces. Before the leaders of the mob pushed her off the edge of
|
||
the stage with a noose around her neck, O'Connor reportedly stated that it
|
||
was an artistic statement, quote, "an illustration in reverse of what the
|
||
Catholic Church has done to the people of Ireland." Sinead O'Connor and the
|
||
Pope were unfortunately unavailable for comment, but Cardinal O'Connor
|
||
said, quote, "The world will mourn for the Pope. Hopefully no one will
|
||
mourn for Sinead O'Connor. Hopefully something positive will come out of
|
||
this. Perhaps some people will see the light of day and ban rock music, so
|
||
their children will no longer be exposed to these morally degenerate
|
||
psychopaths."
|
||
|
||
"In a related story..."
|
||
|
||
"The well-publicized case of Peter Sucht, the boy who was reportedly
|
||
abducted last week by a known child-molester, ended today when the boy was
|
||
found exiting his bedroom, where he claims to have been for the past week.
|
||
However, for Peter himself, the story is far from over. In just one week,
|
||
it has been discovered that his father, Dick Sucht, forced him repeatedly
|
||
to have sex with his Saint Bernard, named Cunt; his mother, Annie Dick
|
||
Sucht, would discipline him with a stun gun, while his sister, Wanda B.
|
||
Sucht, would force him to perform oral sex on her and her friends at
|
||
gunpoint. Peter has become a ward of the court until the state can appoint
|
||
him a guardian."
|
||
|
||
"And now we have a live feed from Kent State University. Reporter Fred
|
||
Parakeet is live on the scene with this story..."
|
||
|
||
<Cut to a darkened parking lot (could be anywhere). Every car in sight is
|
||
draped heavilly with multicolored string.>
|
||
|
||
FP: "Well Ned, as I'm sure you're aware, one of the fastest breaking
|
||
stories tonight takes place in Baghdad, Iraq. Saddam "Fuck the New World
|
||
Order" Hussein has put 3 Silly-Putty launchers in the so-called UN
|
||
maintained Peace-keeping Zone. In response, the UN demanded the launchers
|
||
be surrendered to the UN or the Coalition will launch a mass attack of
|
||
Silly String, Spam, llama innards, and various other objects. The American
|
||
General in the Gulf issued a statement today: "I am absoultely positive we
|
||
can match Saddam at his game."
|
||
|
||
"This news has caused countless debates all over the country. On a few
|
||
college campuses, like Kent State here, students rallied to stop the
|
||
silliness in the Gulf. The students took various cans of Silly String and
|
||
had their fun with the a few professors' cars, saying that this attack was
|
||
as silly as the current American strategy."
|
||
|
||
<The camera tilts to the side with a loud clang. Fred Parakeet is suddenly
|
||
covered with several different colors of silly string, and a half dozen
|
||
drunken and/or spaced out students surround him and proceed to fill the
|
||
camera lens with goo. Several dull thuds are heard before the camera goes
|
||
dead and the scene cuts back to the anchor desk.>
|
||
|
||
<Ned Copper grins into the camera, and what could be Madonna's hair can be
|
||
seen bobbing in the vicinity of his lap, just out of view of the camera. He
|
||
rolls his eyes once, and continues in a short, gasping voice.>
|
||
|
||
"Another celebrity Elvis sighting was reported today. At around 4 P.M.,
|
||
Goldie Hawn claims she saw Elvis as she exited the shower. Our reporter,
|
||
Clint Torus is live at the scene with the famous actress."
|
||
|
||
<cut to living room, with Goldie Hawn and reporter Clint Torus. Sign on the
|
||
bottom of the scene says "LIVE".>
|
||
|
||
CT: "So, you saw Elvis as you left the shower."
|
||
|
||
GH: "Yes, I was just coming out, and I was about to wrap a towel around
|
||
myself, and I saw him. I screamed."
|
||
|
||
CT: "You screamed because you thought you were seeing a ghost?"
|
||
|
||
GH: "No, no, if he was a ghost, well, that would've been all right. But he
|
||
was standing there naked and he started to gyrate his hips, and sing
|
||
Heartbreak Hotel."
|
||
|
||
CT: "Naked? What happened next?"
|
||
|
||
GH: "Well, I screamed, and he ran off. No one could find him."
|
||
|
||
CT: "Now, are you absolutely sure it was Elvis, and not a cabbage or
|
||
something?"
|
||
|
||
GH: "I'm sure. I called Priscilla on the phone. Ask her. She can tell you.
|
||
No one ever knew about that birthmark until today."
|
||
|
||
CT: "Thank you, Ms. Hawn. Now back to you, Ned."
|
||
|
||
<Cut back to anchors' desk. Madonna raises her head and wipes her chin.>
|
||
|
||
Ned: "Thank you, Clint. In the past three weeks, "Weird Al" Yankovic,
|
||
President Clinton, Mike Tyson, Hugh Hefner, Cardinal O'Connor, Fabio, Bill
|
||
Cosby, and Wil Wheaton, among others, have reported sightings of the King.
|
||
This rash of unexplained Elvis sightings has prompted a government
|
||
investigation, which started one week ago. So far the only official comment
|
||
has been, "We're working on it.""
|
||
|
||
Madonna: "Ned, did you know that this is the first naked Elvis sighting
|
||
reported since the King's apparent death?"
|
||
|
||
Ned: "That's amazing, Madonna. <He doesn't *seem* amazed> Hopefully, being
|
||
sexually harassed by dead rock stars--"
|
||
|
||
<Elvis Presley walks across the room in front of the desk, waves to the
|
||
camera, gyrates his hips, and leaves. Both anchors stare blankly ahead.
|
||
After fifteen seconds or so of utter flabbergasted silence, Ned speaks.>
|
||
|
||
Ned: "Well, that was definitely a first on TV News. A dead rock star, on
|
||
national TV. He IS dead, isn't he? I mean..."
|
||
|
||
<Madonna turns to one side and frantically mouths the word BREAK. She then
|
||
rushes off after Elvis, hand to her crotch...>
|
||
|
||
<Cut to the scene of a sleeping couple, safe and warm in their bed.
|
||
Suddenly, the sound of a barking dog outside awakens them. They sit,
|
||
cross-faced, in their bed, as their alarm clock speeds its way towards 6:00
|
||
AM, and rings.>
|
||
|
||
<Sally Struthers>: "Are you tired of being awakened late at night by the
|
||
sound of barking dogs? Of course you are! But you always thought there was
|
||
nothing you could do to alleviate this common problem. Well, I have good
|
||
news for you! The researchers at BlastCo have come up with the perfect
|
||
solution!"
|
||
|
||
<Cut to a laboratory scene. A man in a leather jacket, carrying an odd
|
||
looking handgun, follows a pound attendant down the aisle to the cage of an
|
||
elderly, mange eaten collie. The collie's tail thumps listlessly on the
|
||
cold concrete as the attendant opens the cage, and the man in the leather
|
||
jacket points the odd pistol at the dog. The weapon makes a sound like a
|
||
whip cracking, and in a flash of light, the dog vaporizes!>
|
||
|
||
"Now doesn't that work a whole lot better than a thrown shoe? This
|
||
marvelous invention works wonders on other common neighborhood pests as
|
||
well!"
|
||
|
||
<The scene cuts several times, showing the man in the leather jacket
|
||
vaporizing rats, mice, gophers, and annoying paper boys. Finally, he points
|
||
the pistol straight up, and pulls the trigger. The cat, previously
|
||
mentioned as being asleep atop Mr. & Mrs. Public's TV set explodes in a
|
||
flash of light!>
|
||
|
||
"It even works on cats! So call the number at the bottom of your screen for
|
||
more information today! Operators are standing by to take your call!"
|
||
|
||
<The scene cuts again to another commercial, but the videotape jams, and
|
||
the scene cuts back to the newsdesk. In the background, a voice that sounds
|
||
remarkably like the King's can be heard singing "Love me tender" in short,
|
||
punctuated gasps. Ned Copper sits alone at the newsdesk.>
|
||
|
||
Ned: "In tonights celebrity news, Donald Trump's fortunes have reached an
|
||
all-time low. He's lost all his Atlantic City casinos, and now is forced to
|
||
move to the suburban area of Howell, New Jersey, because he's practically
|
||
broke. Our roving reporter, Bonnie Lasse, has gone to Howell to bring you
|
||
the story, and an EXCLUSIVE interview."
|
||
|
||
<Screen changes to Bonnie Lasse and The Donald, with a sign saying "Live"
|
||
on the bottom. Bonnie, a semi-stunning but overly hairsprayed and made up
|
||
blonde, is sitting on a couch with Trump, and has an unlabeled microphone.
|
||
They are in a rather plain and dingy living room, in front of an
|
||
uncurtained bay window.>
|
||
|
||
Lasse: "Thanks, Ned. Mr. Trump, how did you lose all this money?"
|
||
|
||
Trump: "Well, a lot of it's the divorce settlement with Ivana. Sometimes I
|
||
could swear the bitch was out to ruin me."
|
||
|
||
<The heads of Ivana Trump and Marla Maples peek over the edge of the window
|
||
sill.>
|
||
|
||
Lasse: "How do you feel now, being one of the working class?"
|
||
|
||
<A pistol rises over the edge and trains on Trump's skull.>
|
||
|
||
Trump: "Well, frankly, it su--akk!"
|
||
|
||
<The Donald, rudely interrupted by the passage of a .38 caliber bullet
|
||
through his brain, slumps over and falls out of view. Marla and Ivana duck
|
||
out.>
|
||
|
||
Lasse: "Oh, SHIT! That's the third time this week that's happened! And he
|
||
bled all over my stockings! Here, help me out with him."
|
||
|
||
<Cameraman steps into view and starts helping Lass to drag the body out by
|
||
the collar.>
|
||
|
||
Cameraman: "Those damn trendy killers and their annoying fads. Now
|
||
EVERYBODY wants to kill somebody on TV..."
|
||
|
||
Lasse: "Damn it to hell, I broke a nail...oops, almost forgot."
|
||
|
||
<She looks up and smiles at the camera.>
|
||
|
||
Lasse: "Back to you, Ned."
|
||
|
||
<Scene cuts back to the newsdesk. Madonna has rejoined Ned Copper, looking
|
||
sated. She is smoking a cigarette, and looking quite pleased with herself.>
|
||
|
||
Ned: "And now here's Goldie Shower Meadows with today's weather forecast."
|
||
|
||
<screen switched to a map of the U.S. covered with fronts, little smiley
|
||
suns wearing Blades, snowflakes, and mean-looking clouds.>
|
||
|
||
Meadows: "Tomorrow will be bright and sunny in Birmingham, Alabama;
|
||
Seattle, Washington; Austin, Texas; and the Triple-O-Five-Bar-X-Double-
|
||
Asterisk-Q-Peace-Sign-Pentagram-Curlicue-Eight-Bleeding-Daggers cattle
|
||
ranch. Everywhere else will be overcast with scattered showers, snow, fog,
|
||
T-storms, and the possibility of hail."
|
||
|
||
"Hurricane Billy-Bob Jim-Bob Joe-Bob Jesus Horatio Christ Smith is
|
||
gradually building up in the mid-atlantic. Let's go to the satellite."
|
||
|
||
<Weather map is replaced by a picture of Elvis & Madonna, naked. She is
|
||
straddling his stomach and leaning over him, pressing her right nipple to
|
||
his lips. Meadows continues without turning, gesturing so that she
|
||
indicates the Madonna's breast, near where it touches his mouth.>
|
||
|
||
"This area here is a low-pressure zone. It's drawing moisture from the sea,
|
||
and was the beginning of the hurricane's development when it was first
|
||
spotted three days ago."
|
||
|
||
<screen changes to show a close-up of Elvis's cock, which is starting to
|
||
get erect.>
|
||
|
||
"Over the last few days, it gradually increased in size. It's expected to
|
||
reach the East Coast in a few days, and by then it'll be positively huge.
|
||
It's expected to cause a great deal of..."
|
||
|
||
<she trails off as she happens to glance at the screen. She colors slightly
|
||
and continues with an embarrassed half-grin.>
|
||
|
||
"Oops...wrong satellite... Back to you, Ned."
|
||
|
||
<Camera pands back right to show the newsdesk. Ned smiles, and turns to
|
||
look at the monitor behind himself.>
|
||
|
||
Ned: "And now, here's Ben Dover, with the Consumer Report."
|
||
|
||
<Camera cuts to the monitor, showing Ben Dover, dressed simply in a green
|
||
dressing gown and stethoscope. He is seated at a desk covered in various
|
||
products common to supermarket checkout lines.>
|
||
|
||
Ben: "According to a press release by the Consumers Protection Union, you
|
||
should no longer buy ninja weapons such as shurikens and nunchukus, as a
|
||
recent study has shown they hold considerable danger to the operator, and
|
||
even experienced operators can be hurt. They also recommend a "Place Out Of
|
||
Reach Of Children" label be placed on chainsaws and dynamite."
|
||
|
||
"Also, there is a recall out on all bottles of Preparation H dated 2-17-93
|
||
to 2-23-93, as they have been found to be contaminated with Super Glue.
|
||
Check your containers."
|
||
|
||
<Camera cuts back to Ned at the newsdesk.>
|
||
|
||
Ned: "In our final story of the evening, Outer Mongolia, threatened with
|
||
nuclear annhilation, finally agreed to extradite "Fast" Hans Liebermann to
|
||
the U.S. for trial. Liebermann allegedly skipped the country with
|
||
$23,000,000 of imbezzled money, plans for ICBMs, Gennifer Flowers, and a
|
||
bag of Ruffles potato chips. The Mongolians were reluctant to release him
|
||
to U.S. custody because Liebermann was their new economic minister, and
|
||
also because they don't put ridges on Outer Mongolian potato chips. Despite
|
||
the threat of nuclear annhilation, the U.S. government was persuaded to
|
||
agree to trade a can of Spam Lite for Liebermann and his entourage."
|
||
|
||
"This concludes the News for this evening. Please stay tuned for more
|
||
quality programming."
|
||
|
||
<Camera stays on long enough to show Madonna queuing the newsroom staff
|
||
into a line, which she kneels in front of, Cleopatra style. There is a
|
||
slight scuffle near the end of the line, as a few late arriving technicians
|
||
battle for a better position. Cut to commercial.>
|
||
|
||
<Pictures of bank owners involved in the S&L scandal appear in the
|
||
background, changing every few seconds as the Announcer (same one from the
|
||
Deep Space Nine commercials) speaks.>
|
||
|
||
Announcer: "In the wake of the nation's biggest banking scandal, people are
|
||
looking high and low for faces they can trust."
|
||
|
||
<long pause>
|
||
|
||
Announcer: "We have those faces."
|
||
|
||
<screen changes to a picture of Jesus from a Renaissance painting, then,
|
||
every few seconds as the announcer (now replaced with a strangely familiar
|
||
Tiltonesque voice) continues, to televangelists.>
|
||
|
||
<Robert Tilton>: "You've always trusted us with your money. We're the only
|
||
ones you can trust. We're--"
|
||
|
||
<Jimmy Swaggart>: "--the Church of God. While the agents of Satan have on
|
||
occasion falsely accused us to break--"
|
||
|
||
<Oral Roberts>: "--our reputations, it is they who proved false in the end.
|
||
So why trust them with your hard-earned wages--"
|
||
|
||
<Jim Bakker>: "--when there's the J. Christ International Bank? Run for the
|
||
church, by the church, and open 24 hours--"
|
||
|
||
<Tammy Faye Bakker>: "--and all our checks bear inspirational verses from
|
||
Holy Scripture! Brothers and sisters--Jesus saves, you should too!"
|
||
|
||
<fade to black>
|
||
|
||
|
||
-------------------------------------------
|
||
I'd like to thank all of the contributors to this issue. I only hope
|
||
everyone has as much fun reading this as we did writing it and putting
|
||
it all together. NNTN was written by...
|
||
|
||
Tal Meta
|
||
Kel'anth
|
||
Agnostic Messiah &
|
||
Hairy Leech.
|
||
|
||
|
||
<20> <20><> <20>
|
||
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||
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|
||
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|
||
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|
||
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|
||
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|
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|