The story of a man who is not so much an inventor as a bare-faced liar. He has achieved nothing in his life but has gained respect through his falsehoods. His life has climaxed, as the play begins, with the opening of his Internet porn site, hotnspunky_ya.com. A play in 3 acts.
Ernst Heinklomp - Liar and sex king.
Mojo Davies - Web designer and photographer. The talent behind the website.
Suzi the Snail - Amputee porn star.
War - Horseman of the Apocalypse and porn star.
Jo-Jo the Pogo - Porn star.
Mandy Baps - Porn star.
Artists - As required.
Ernst and Mojo sit at a plain wooden desk in a sparsely decorated office. A clock ticks loudly on the wall and a rat runs across the stage. Ernst burps. There is a knock at the door.
(nice fucking play. I can't enter any dialogue without the choices, dammit!)
[Sure you can. Look.]
Ernst Heinklomp: See?
Mojo Davies: Huh?
Ernst Heinklomp: I mean, "Who is it?"
[About fucking time. What the fuck was up with that fuckity fuck bullshit fuck?]
Mojo Davies: I'm getting deja vu.
War: It's da plummah. I've come ta fix da sink.
Ernst Heinklomp: [to Mojo] You know, I almost half-expected that joke.
[It's an error in Pete's cgi script...if an entry is deleted or undone, only the bottom four or so selections are available. After the next submission, it's normal again.]
[Hmm..nope. I guess it's only when a Watchman deletes an entry.]
[Actually, the deja vu joke was only because this play was ended and then resurrected, or something like that.]
Ernst Heinklomp: Did you say something?
Mojo Davies: What?
War: Open the friggin' door, already!
Ernst Heinklomp: [to Mojo, shrugging] Open the friggin' door, already.
[Mojo opens the friggin' door, already, and War steps in, wearing only a sword-belt, Roman helmet, and a smile. He's hung like a...well,...Horseman.]
War: I'm ready for my travelling crane shot, Mr. DeMille.
DeMille: Okay, now lower the other porn star into the scene...action.
["Bow chikka-chikka bow-bow"-type music begins playing.]
War: That's it, baby... suck my big, throbbing allegorical dick.
Ernst Heinklomp: Hold it, hold it! Our server just went down.
[The women's dressing room. Suzy slithers and thumps her way across the stage, clearly agitated, while Mandy looks on, offering comforting words.]
Mandy Baps: How 'bout, um..."muffin?" Is that comforting? Or "tickle?" Does "tickle" comfort you? What about "celophane?" I always liked "celophane."
Suzi the Snail: Oh, dammit! [*thump*] Why can't Ernst see that [*drag*] I'm ready for the big time [*wiggle*]? Oh, I'm tired [*thud*] of being his personal [*scrabble scrabble*] shop-vac. I should be a star!
Mandy Baps: Oo! Oo! How 'bout "tongue bath?" I always feel better after I've given a tongue bath. Or "feltch!"
[Suzi struggles in vain to got onto a chair and ends up crashing into the orchestra pit. Mandy swallows her gum. The curtain falls.]
Jo-Jo the Pogo: Whoa, Suzi! What happened?
Suzi the Snail: [speaking through manifold bandages] I tried to "got onto a chair."
Jo-Jo the Pogo: Oh. Well, that's fucked up and stupid. No wonder it didn't work.
Suzi the Snail: I thought I could do it with the strength of my wanking hand.
Jo-Jo the Pogo: You're an amputee. What hand?
Suzi the Snail: Shutthefuckup, no balls.
[Jo-Jo turns towards the audience and his nakedness betrays that indeed he has no balls.]
[The audience recoils in a strange mix of horror and utter apathy.]
Jo-Jo the Pogo: Oh, yeah, that hurt, coming from a quadriplegic crack whore.
Suzi the Snail: Well, at least it didn't take me three tries to get the html coding on this entry correct.
[He backhands her. She slides into the orchestra pit, leaving a trail of...well, let's not say.]
[Jo-Jo slips on the glimmering substance.]
[War strides in, with Mandy Baps impaled on his love truncheon. Ernst walks along side, guiding Mojo, who films the couple.]
Ernst Heinklomp: Take his meat, you bitch! Don't look at the camera!
Suzi the Snail: I hate fucking amateurs.
[The audience holds its breath in expectation of an obvious joke.]
[The entire audience has passed out from holding their breath during intermission. But the show must go on.]
Larry King: (from the third row) Has anyone seen my pance?
Jo-Jo the Pogo: Quiet in the balcony!
[Thirteen obese midgets dressed in zebra-skin spandex bodysuits wheel out a large vat of custard pudding. One of the midgets is wearing a snorkel and a sandwich board which reads, "Eat At Suzi's." The other twelve leave the stage singing, "Don't Cry Out Loud." The remaining midget begins feeling around in the vat and pulls out a rubber chicken.]
Rubber Chicken: Cluck...I say cluck, y'all.
[Suddenly, the camera closes in on a calendar -- for yes, this has suddenly become a motion picture -- and we see the year: 1945. The calendar features a pretty Japanese girl posing next to a "Nagasaki Savings and Loan" sign.
You can guess what happens next.]
The curtain rises on nothing but darkness, as the final chord of The Beatles' "A Day In The Life" sounds. (Yes, it's gone back to being a play again.) The audience moves to exit, but the roof of the theater collapses and starts on fire, killing one and all. Yay.
Oh, well... that was kind of the epilogue up there. The end, already.
Last updated Tuesday, September 26, 2000.
|Copyright © 1991-2000 by Pete Magsig|