Monday, August 2, 2010

Act VIII "Cheese 'N Onions" - The Doomsday Matter


Announcer: "Spy Guys" will begin after this commercial message.




Scene One: Tuesday morning. 11:45 AM. The Anthony Michael Hall, an enormous auditorium in Louisville, Kentucky, which will serve as the venue to Cheese 'n Onions, the world-famous tribute band to The Rutles, at high noon. Hundreds of television cameras are there to record the images of thousands of gathered dignitaries, international politicians, and leaders from the arts and sciences. What this assembled throng does not know however, is that in a few minutes, they will be witnesses to a very strange scene. We find our intrepid GLOBE agents, Mr. Winter, Glory Becker, John Slate, The Skipster and Buffy Pleasant, assembled for a final briefing.


Mr. Winter: Does everyone have their earpieces in their ears? (Everyone nods in the affirmative.) Good. Does everyone have their microphones either up their sleeves or pinned onto their gowns? (Everyone nods in the affirmative.) Good. And is everyone packing an automatic weapon? (Everyone nods in the affirmative.) Good. Let's help make this a memorable concert. (Checks his watch.) We have fifteen minutes. I'm going over to the punchbowl. (Mr. Winter wanders off.)

Buffy brushes her hand against the Skipster's.

Buffy: I... I just want you to know that whatever happens, I'll always treasure last night. It was the most incredible experience of my life. (Buffy kisses the Skipster on the cheek, and wanders off with Glory. The Skipster walks over to Slate.)

Skipster: Is the the tracking device for the key working okay?

Slate: Yep. No problems. Looks like the key is somewhere backstage. Y'know, I was thinking that... (Their conversation is interrupted by hearing the voices of Buffy and Glory through their earpieces.)

Glory's Voice: So, how was it, girlfriend?

Buffy's Voice: It was fantastic! Skipster is a wonderful lover, who really knows what a woman wants!

Glory's Voice: Yum! Details! I want details!

Buffy's Voice: Well, he took me in his room and we started kissing. Really softly at first, and then we started getting really hot 'n heavy, y'know? (Slate looks up at the Skipster who is standing in horror. Buffy continues talking.) Before you know it, we were totally naked and laying on the bed and he was running his hand up my thigh. I thought I was gonna faint, I was so excited! So... I reached down and started touching him, y'know? That seemed to drive him really crazy, because he was moaning loudly. (Slate manages a small shrug of his shoulders, and attempts a feeble smile. The Skipster is turning white. They hear Glory's voice pipe in.)

Glory's Voice: Did he say anything?

Buffy's Voice: Oh yeah! He started talking dirty about what he was gonna do to me. I gotta tell ya, that was really turning me on! (Skipster buries his face in his palm.)

Glory's Voice: Did you tell him about...?

Buffy's Voice: Not yet. I think he might've acted differently if he knew it was my first time!

Slate looks at the Skipster. A crash is heard from the next room as a glass falls to the floor and breaks. A few seconds later, a visibly-shaken Mr. Winter appears in an archway with an open-mouthed look of shock. The Skipster wheels around.

Skipster: (shouting) Buffy!!! SHUT UP!!!

The assembled crowd, having absolutely no idea as to what caused his outburst, falls silent as they all stare at the Skipster. Without moving, his eyes dart around the room as he catches everyone's gaze. He laughs sheepishly.

Skipster: Heh, heh...

* * * * *

Scene Two: Tuesday morning. 11:50 AM. A black Borgatti sportscar races through the streets of Louisville towards the Anthony Michael Hall. Its two visible occupants are GLOBE agent Kitt Kittridge, who is driving, and the Skipster's writing & business partner the Foxster, who is now very, very drunk, slumped in the passenger seat, and singing at the top of his lungs. Stashed in the trunk is an unconscious Bruno Drake.

Foxster (singing): Farewell an' adooooo, ye fair Spanish ladiezzz... farewell an' adooooo, ye ladiezzz o'Spainnn... (The Foxster's head rolls to the left as he stops singing and drunkenly stares at Kittridge for a moment.) Y'know sumpin', Kittleridge? Yer a reeel somnabitch to steal my car. Y'know that? (hiccups) But cha wanna know sumpin' elsss? (Foxster weakly pokes Kittridge in the right arm.) Yer also one helluva guy to give me a ride innit! (Foxster laughs loudly and stares out the window.) I dunno whether ta kiss ya or kick yer ass!

Kittridge: (evenly) Well... don't try either. (pause) Just be glad I recognized you from all those magazine covers you did with the Skipster. Otherwise, I would have run you over.

Foxster: He'zzz my pal, y'know... (pause) The ollll' Skisster! My pal! My buddy! (pause) My pal! (pause) Whadda helluva guy. (His head rolls back towards Kittridge.) And you sed he's right here in town? Wait'll he sees me! He's gonna shit! (Foxster laughs loudly.)

Kittridge: (under his breath) No doubt...

Foxster: Hey, Kittlerdidge... We got time to stop at McDonald's for a Filet-O-Fish?

Kittridge: Well, we really shouldn't... but I'm dying for a Big Mac myself... for some reason.

The Borgatti sportscar races on...

* * * * *

Scene Three: Tuesday morning, 11:58 AM. Inside the Anthony Michael Hall auditorium, where the assembled guests are being seated. From his vantage point offstage, the Skipster is observing the last-minute activity behind the closed curtains, as roadies finalize the sound checks and prepare the instruments. He watches as a bulletproof plexiglass podium rises silently and majestically from the stage floor, awaiting the master of ceremonies. He can hear the director issuing orders for preliminary camera positions through the P.A. system, and hear the floor manager giving the countdown until airtime. He hears Slate's voice through his earpiece.

Slate's Voice: Hey, Skipster. See anything unusual?

Skipster: (talking into the sleeve mike) Negative. Nothing yet. No sign of the band.

Floor Manager's Voice: One minute until airtime. Places, everybody.

The Skipster sees a production assistant leading the master of ceremonies towards the podium.

Slate's Voice: Copy that. Things are cool from where I'm standing.

Skipster: Roger that. (He hears Buffy's soft voice through the earpiece.)

Buffy's Voice: Skip? (pause) Are you mad at me?

Skipster: (sighs) Can we talk about this later, Buffy? (Skipster suddenly sees the master of ceremonies clearly.) Son of a bitch!

Buffy's Voice: Excuse me??? (pause) You are mad at me! I knew it!

Floor Manager's Voice: Thirty seconds.

The Skipster puts Buffy on "ignore" as he watches a man wearing an all-white tuxedo take his place behind the podium.

Skipster: Ohmigod!! It's Barry! The master of ceremonies is BARRY CABANA!!!

Floor Director's Voice: Ten seconds... nine... eight... seven... six... five... four... three... On the air!

From the P.A. system, the hall is flooded with pre-recorded music as an unseen announcer booms out his lines.

Announcer: Ladies and gentlemen! Boys and girls! Live from Louisville, Kentucky, and seen by every single person in the world! A history-making event! The most famous tribute band of a tribute band of a parody band! It's Cheeeeeese 'n Onionsssss!

The crowd goes wild. The Skipster looks around as the stage lights start coming up.

Announcer: And now... Your master of cermonies for this stupendous occasion... Mister Broadway himself! Barrrrry Cabannnnna!!!

The curtains slowly open and Barry Cabana is framed by a bright white spotlight. The audience roars its approval. Barry grins and waves to the adoring crowd. The Skipster looks up. He sees a large, flat rectangular object suspended over the stage. Barry begins his speech.

Barry: Well! Good afternoon everyone, and greetings to every person in the world from Lexington, Kentucky! (cheers from all, except a few Louisville residents) Y'know... I've really gotta say how humbled I am that I was even asked to emcee this event. Up until now, I just figured that everyone thought I was dead! (laughter and scattered applause) But, I've been given a great honor. Right now, I hold the key that will activate a special clock behind me. This clock will count the hours that this fantastic group, Cheese 'n Onions will be performing onstage, as they have vowed to go into the Guinness Book Of World Records as giving the longest concert in the history of the world!

The large object is slowly lowered from the ceiling.

Skipster: Ohmigod! It's the Doomsday Clock!

Indeed, it is the authentic clock that has been freshly repainted and made to look very festive, with hearts and flowers! Barry Cabana smiles, turns, and slowly walks towards it.

Skipster: (into his sleeve) It's Barry Cabana! He's unwittingly about to destroy the world!

The Skipster darts from behind a curtain and races toward Barry. He sees Glory, Slate and Buffy all converging toward the stage. Barry, who is grinning like an idiot, is just seconds away from putting the key into the deadly device! The Skipster unholsters his weapon and aims it at "Mister Broadway."

Skipster: (softly) Sorry, Barry...

He is about to squeeze the trigger when he hears the unmistakable sound of Mr. Winter's soothing voice emanating from the P.A. system.

Mr. Winter's Voice: Barry. (pause) Barry. (Barry halts, and looks up, mystified.)

Barry: Who is that?

Mr. Winter's Voice: It's the Lord, Barry.

The audience, who assumes that this is a scheduled part of the show, begins to laugh. Barry, who now thinks this is a last-minute addition to the show, smirks and begins to play along.

Barry: (chuckling) And what is it I may do for you, oh Lord?

Mr. Winter's Voice: I command thee to bring out your special guest!

Suddenly the crowd goes wild as the Foxster comes staggering out onstage, totally drunk.

Skipster: Omigod! The Foxster!!!

Foxster: (looking around) I wanna see th'speshull guest...

Barry: (obviously surprised and pleased) Well... I'll be! It's my old pal! Ladies and gentlemen... it's the Foxster!

The Foxster staggers up to the podium and leans on it for much-needed support.

Foxster: Extinguished memmersss of the academy, I accept thiz award for... (sees the Skipster) Well... holy SHIT!!! I think I see an old buddy over there! Barry! Lez give a nice warm welcome to th' Skisster!

As the spotlight swings over, the Skipster hurridly holsters his weapon, smiles and waves to the audience. Barry motions for the Skipster to approach the podium, and the Skipster slowly begins walking toward it. Offstage, Glory, Slate, and Buffy are trying to comprehend this weird spectacle, when Kittridge runs up to Slate, out of breath.

Kittridge: John! Thank gawd I found you! Do you have the tracking device?

Slate: Of course I do! It's right here! (Slate produces the device from his jacket pocket.)

Kittridge: Take it apart!

Slate: What?

Kittridge: Just take it apart, damnit! There's no time to explain!

The sudden roar of the crowd causes them to look up, as the four members of Cheese 'n Onions walk angrily onto the stage. Barry, who believes this is still part of the act, leans into the microphone.

Barry: Ladies and gentlemen! Let's have a big welcome to Mike Rotch as Dirk McQuickly, Jacques Strapp as Ron Nasty, Hugh Jass as Stig O'Hara, and Stu Pedasso as Barry Wom! Cheese 'n Onions!!!

The crowd roars. Mike Rotch angrily grabs the key out of Barry's hand. Jacques Strapp grabs the microphone, and glares at Mike Rotch.

Strapp: (mockingly) "Have Barry do it!" Oh, great plan there, Mike! We're gonna do this like we'd orginally planned it, and to hell with any of ENEMA's ransom demands! (to the audience and television cameras) We really hate you all. (The crowd, thinking he's doing his "Ron Nasty" impression, cheers.)

Slate: (to Kittridge) Okay! It's apart! Now what?

Kittridge: The guy who helped invent this thing told me something...

Mike Rotch grabs the microphone from Jacques Strapp.

Rotch: He's right! We hate you all! (The crowd cheers. Hugh Jass grabs the microphone from Mike Rotch.)

Jass: I really don't know why you're cheering, as we're all about to die! (The crowd cheers. Stu Pedasso grabs the microphone.)

Kittridge: (to Slate) The key has a self-destruct function!

Pedasso: Listen! I'm Stu Pedasso! You can believe me! (The crowd cheers.)

Kittridge: (to Slate) And that little red button on the circuit board is the trigger!

The band members look at each other, then suddenly run toward the clock with Mike Rotch brandishing the key. The Skipster begins to draw his gun, but is stopped short by Mr. Winter's booming voice.

Mr. Winter's Voice: Let them go, Skipster! (pause) And by the way... duck and cover!

The Skipster is momentarily confused, but quickly regains his sense of discipline, honed by years of military -- and GLOBE -- training. He grabs both Barry and the Foxster by their collars, and with one swift kick, he knocks the bulletproof plexiglass podium over. He manages to wrestle every one of them to safety behind it.

Kittridge: In short... THE KEY IS A BOMB!!!

Cheese 'n Onions defiantly stand in front of the Doomsday Clock and raise their middle fingers to the cheering crowd. Mike Rotch begins to insert the key that will obliterate all life on earth.

Slate: A bomb? (brief pause) Oh. (brief pause) Cool. (Slate presses the red button.)

In the blink of an eye, Cheese 'n Onions and the Doomsday Clock are enveloped in a blinding white light and a loud explosion that rocks the stage. When the smoke clears, the only thing remaining is a large hole in the stage floor. The audience cheers.

Skipster: (to Barry) Wow! That was quick!

A lightbulb goes off over Barry's head. (Well, figuratively.) He grabs a microphone.

Barry: Ladies and gentlemen! We have all just witnessed an historical event! I must've read that script wrong, because what I meant to say earlier was that this will go in the Guinness Book Of World Records as the shortest concert in the history of the world! Thank you, and have a great day!

The music swells through the P.A. system, and after more wild applause, the audience dutifully begins to file out.

The Skipster looks over at the Foxster, who has passed out in a drunken stupor.

TO BE CONCLUDED...

2 comments:

  1. Skipster! Wow....blushing here. Well, ok, I'm not REALLY blushing. But it's fun to remember a time when I might have blushed. Sheesh. I think I'm in big trouble here and will just pass out on the floor with the Fox. Yeah, that's the ticket...

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  2. If I remember when the "really old Big Mac commercial" from the 70's was on tv, does that make me 'really old', too? LOL!

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