MSTing: The Adventures of goblins, talk showhost, bugaloos,
witchie-poos and golden flutes named freddy
in the labrynth
by Brendan Herlihy and Steve Weinberg
--- Part 2 of 8 ---
[OPEN ON: The theater. Pearl, Scratch, Gypsy and Madge continue
riffing the story.]
> "It's what my wife did when she told
> me I could leave the hospital anytime I wanted."
GYPSY: Well be fair, you only went in for a foot scraping.
> Dropping the knife on the table the man slumped back into his chair.
>"I showed her though, without me the aliens didn't come for Christmas
>Supper."
MADGE (as Director): CUT! Brian, you can't do your "I showed them. I
showed them all!" bit without taking a dramatic pause! Work with me
here!
>
> The doorbell rang.
>
> "I'll get it." Angela called, leaping off the couch
SCRATCH: Camera two, get out of her futon.
>before Jenifer could
>even move.
>
> "Do people always drop in during one of your shows?" Brian asked.
PEARL: Well it's not like anyone's at home riveted to their screens.
>
> "Sometimes yes," Jenifer said, starting to edge away from him. "It's
> a hazard of doing your show out of a living room."
GYPSY: This is a Gordon Elliot production, I can smell it.
MADGE: The only way this show makes sense is if there's a man-eating
grizzly with a random timer on its cage, and viewers are biting
their nails waiting for the thing to spring free and maul the
bastards.
>
> "It's the icecream you ordered Jen." A tall man in a white coat
> entered the living room.
SCRATCH (exasperated): Ice cream deliveries?! Goblinologists?!
Cameras in dresses?! What the *hell*?!
PEARL: What Dr. Leary Magic Kool-Aid Trip is this story *on*?
>
> "Two pan out and follow any fighting, one standby."
>
> "Your no icecream man!" Brian shouted.
MADGE (man at door): Sir, please. If you'd just take a pamphlet...
> "Your one of the devils who keeps locking me up!" He turned to
> Jenifer. "You betrayed me!
GYPSY (Jen): I'm a talk show host. You're confusing me with someone
who has honor.
> Well I'll show you!" Bending down out of camera range he grabbed
> something off the table and threw himself on Jenifer.
SCRATCH: Whoo-hoo! Courtship rituals of the wild loon!
PEARL (nerdy voice): And this concludes our AlcAnon playlet, "It's Only
An Intervention- What Could Possibly Go Wrong?".
> The director's heart jumped
> into his throat as he heard Jenifer's scream. Had that crazy man
> plunged the knife into his Jenifer? Who would host the show?
MADGE: Well considering the human Ouija boards you got hosting it
now...
> There was only one
> way to find out. His voice trembling the director called; "Take two!"
SCRATCH (sings): BOMP! Bah-da-dum!
GYPSY (sings): It takes two to make a thing go right!
SCRATCH: BOMP! Bah-da-dum!
GYPSY: It takes two to make it out of sight!
>
> Jenifer Bass grunted as she and Angela set the couch down.
SCRATCH: Is throwing the couch a good fighting tactic here?
MADGE: Oh, they're superheroes, too. We forgot to mention.
PEARL: The first half of the show they fight crime, then the villains
come onto the set to talk about next week's plan for world
domination!
>Then she flopped down onto it and surveyed the wreckage that had been
> her living room.
GYPSY: OK. Scene change. I get it.
SCRATCH: Time must've, like, passed or something.
>A heavy sigh left her body and filled the room.
>
> "Now if your'gonna start that again I'm leavin." Angela said, handing
> her a beer.
PEARL (to story): I'm sorry, are we interrupting? 'Cuz we can come
back later.
> As usual a good brawl had her in good spirits.
GYPSY: Angela must be one of those women who threw a punch in every
Burt Reynolds barroom melee.
SCRATCH: Get with the times. Even Tom Sawyer's Becky Thatcher is
throwing punches in Hollywood these days.
> And it had been a brawl, involving not only Jen and her guest but
> the studio audience as well. "It's not that bad Jen, and you know
> insurance will cover most of the damage."
MADGE: If insurance companies covered damage done by television,
they'd've gone under the second Aaron Spelling started producing!
> "What about these?" Jenifer asked, holding up her wrist to show the
> two bracelets. "I was really scared when he reached for that knife
>Angela.
PEARL: Next week, on Disjointed Dialogue Playhouse...
> I
>could have been killed."
>
> "Well you weren't were you?" Angela sat down beside her best friend.
SCRATCH: And the ends justify everything, they do!
>"And
>you can have those things off tomorrow."
MADGE: So, are these bracelets, or handcuffs, or what?
>
> "I'd have them off tonight if the Derby Locksmith and Shoeshine
> company kept better hours." Jenifer complained, taking a gulp from
> the bottle.
SCRATCH: Locksmith. They're handcuffs.
MADGE: Nah, she's drinking beer! They gotta be bracelets.
SCRATCH: If they were bracelets they'd just get a tube of Vaseline and
keep her wrists elevated! They're handcuffs! Say it!
MADGE: No!
>
> "Well I hate to say I told ya so..."
SCRATCH: Handcuffs!
MADGE: Bracelets!
>
> "I know," Jenifer switched to an imitation of her friends southern
>drawl:
GYPSY: Hey, retroactive character development! "For those moments when
actual writing just won't do."
> "Never Let Marty Choose the Guest." she sighed again. "But after
> Madona canceled at the last minute..."
[All snigger.]
SCRATCH: The goblin guy was the back-up for Madonna? So next week,
it's J.D. Salinger or D.J. Jazzy Jeff?
MADGE: Elie Weisel or Elle MacPherson?
PEARL: Chief Justice Renquist or that woman who makes her eyes bug out?
> she trailed off and leaned back, resting the bottle on her forehead.
MADGE (harsh whisper): Bracelets.
SCRATCH (same): Handcuffs!
> "Yea, I know, better than nothing." Angela stood up and headed toward
> the door. "I'll come buy tomorrow and help you clean up."
GYPSY: Isn't that a Cole Porter tune? (sings) "And I, would buy,
tomorrow! If you'd, be mine, today!"
PEARL: Um... no.
>
> "Thanks."
>
> "You want me to stay with you tonight?" Angela asked, concern showing
> in her voice. Jenifer didn't answer.
SCRATCH: She must still be in "host mode".
>
> "You might need some help when the goblins come for you."
>
> "Ha Ha." Jenifer said, some of the tension easing out of her voice.
PEARL: Retroactive plot points! When a well-considered story just
ain't gonna happen.
GYPSY (quickly): Retroactive-character-development-sold-separately.
>
> "We'll if they do come send em over to my house, a good fight puts me
>in the mood."
SCRATCH (wary): Are you sure this ain't another female growth fantasy?
MADGE: Well, I used to be.
>
> Jenifer groaned at the Mae West impersonation and threw a cushion at
> the already closed front door.
PEARL (resentful): Yeah, that's right Mark. Write without pause, and
backfill the meaning whenever you *damn well* feel like it.
> The she laughed and went to bed.
>
GYPSY: The problem with converting your home into a television studio
is, now you're sleeping in a television studio.
SCRATCH: And that's just sad.
> The sky over Living Island was calm with only a light breeze.
MADGE: Relative humidity 33%, with a heat index of 89 degrees.
Checking our Channel Three Storm-Track...
>Joy used
>the breeze to glide, enjoying the caress of air flowing over her wings
> and around her body.
[All shudder.]
PEARL: Well, when life gives you lemons...
> To anyone who saw her, Joy would have been mistaken for a fairy, and
>indeed fairy's and bugaloos did share a common ancestry.
SCRATCH: Under the phylum, "Squishable Things"
> But bugaloos are much bigger than fairy's, Joy herself was a little
> under five feet tall. Aside from the gossamer wings growing out of
> her back she looked human.
GYPSY: What is gossamer, anyway?
MADGE: Cobwebs.
GYPSY: Oh, ick!
MADGE: That's why you don't ask how scrapple is made.
>Joy had deep blue eyes that almost took a persons gaze away from the
> rest of her face, which with it's pug nose and pert mouth could only
> be described as: cute.
PEARL: It's the Warner Sister Dot, now with gossamer fuselage and power
takeoff!
>Her hair was a light brown mop, bobbed short and her body slim.
SCRATCH: As per her contract. Sid and Marty put a "Delta Burke" clause
in there just in case.
> She wore a
> sleeveless cream colored blouse and a short skirt. Silver sandles on
> her feet flashed in the sunlight.
MADGE: Blinding her mid-flight, and forcing her into the dreaded
"JFK Jr. Landing Spiral".
> "We're almost there Freddie." Joy said, her voice
ALL: Huh?
GYPSY: Her voice what?
> "That's good, I hope Jimmy wasn't too worried." the diamond encrusted
> golden flute in her hand sounded anxious.
PEARL: A puppet, a prop, or just a stupid plot device? *You* make the
call!
> "It hasn't been that long, I'm sure he just thinks that old witch has
>you."
SCRATCH: Oh, well as long as he isn't *worried*. Sheesh.
> Freddie shuddered in her hand at the mention of his old foe.
MADGE: Witchie-poo wasn't a foe, exactly. More like a bitter old clown
who didn't know the circus had moved on.
> Joy
> held him tighter, not wanting to loose her grip. Freddie had been
> captured by Witchie-poo, an evil witch. She had been flying him back
> to her castle on her Vroom-Broom, when Pufnstuf,
GYPSY: ...Professor Griff, Chuck D, and the rest of Public Enemy...
> the draconian mayor of Living Island
[All snicker.]
SCRATCH: You think the double meaning even registers with Mark?
MADGE: Hmm... tough call.
> had summoned the West Wind. Witchie-poo had lost control of the
> Vroom-Broom and lost her grip on Freddie.
PEARL: Yes, Puff's secret weapon! Always make sure your antagonist is
a BUTTER-FINGERED IDIOT!
> Freddie had sailed on, passing from one wind current to the other
GYPSY: Gravity is something that happens to other people.
> until finally being deposited in Tranquility Forest. There both he
> and Joy had been captured by Banita Bazzar.
SCRATCH: Huh.
MADGE: That'll happen.
> They had escaped
PEARL: Well I'll be.
GYPSY: How very Joseph Campbellian.
SCRATCH: The never-ending struggle between Good and Goofy!
> and Joy promised to
> take him home.
GYPSY: Well, yeah, but *whose* home? What if Joy has one of those
Kathy Bates-"Misery" deals going on?
MADGE (Joy): I'll take good care of you, Freddie! I'm your number one
fan!
>
> Joy flew along cautiously, normally she would have been too scared to
> fly him back alone.
MADGE: What with her bein' a girl and all.
>But Banita was not the sort of person who gave up, and with the other
>bugaloos away at a folk festival
PEARL: They were last seen lighting pyres at Woodstock '99.
SCRATCH: Incited by the satanic industrial nihilism of Kaptain Kool and
the Kongs!
>Tranquility Forest was no refuge.
GYPSY: More of an "Angst Forest" then.
>Still
>Joy was worried, even with the Vroom-Broom out of action.
SCRATCH: So at the first stiff breeze, the Vroom-Broom drops its
tranny!
PEARL: Must be a Chevy.
> In the few encounters the Bugaloos had had with Witchie-poo in the
> past, she had made it quite clear that she only liked them if they
> were on a plate with an apple in their mouths.
MADGE: Which I never quite got. I mean, they're essentially bugs, when
you get down to it.
GYPSY: Not a traditional Thanksgiving dinner, exactly.
> A cloud passed overhead and Joy swerved back into the sunlight. A
> large bat shot past her, his arms just missing her feet.
SCRATCH: Bats don't have arms!
PEARL: Well, bugs don't have feet. Whaddaya want on a kid show,
uncensored truth?
> "Stop!" the bat shouted, to himself or Joy she didn't know.
[All laugh.]
GYPSY: This is what happens when 90% of your brain is devoted to
finding ears to buzz around in.
> Another form dived out of the clouds, this time a large vulture. Joy
> curved up, and the bird missed her by inches.
> "That was Orson and Stupid Bat!" Freddie shouted.
MADGE: To himself or to Joy?
SCRATCH: We'll never know.
> "They work for
>Witchie-poo."
PEARL: What? They work for poo? I've heard of low self-esteem, but-
> "She has servants that can fly?"
> "I forgot to tell you!"
GYPSY (Joy): You set me up, you cheap dime store slide whistle! You're
not even real gold, are you?!
> "Hang on!" Joy shouted, stuffing Freddie down the front of her
> blouse.
[Scratch and Pearl laugh, Gypsy shakes her head.]
SCRATCH (Freddie): Hey what the- a built-in flute holder? Hm, feels
kinda nice! Jimmy should get a pair of these!
>She didn't hear the flute's muffled "How?", because the bat came at
> her again.
PEARL (Joy): Oh, damn this citronella oil crap! I knew I should've
stuck with deet!
GYPSY: Pearl? You just suggested putting bug repellent on a bug.
PEARL: So?
GYPSY (sighing): Nothing.
>Joy dived down, dropping almost to the tree tops. The vulture dropped
>in behind her, making a grab for her feet, but Joy pulled above him
>and stopped.
MADGE: Then Joy ordered the transporter room to beam photon torpedoes
directly into the flight path of the Tracke ships.
> Just as she did Stupid Bat came at her again. Joy dove into the
> trees, hearing the bat smash into a branch as he tried to follow her.
GYPSY: "Ferngully 3: Oh, Back For More, Ay?"
> Joy spotted
> Orson above her and made a sharp right, hoping to loose him. Instead
> she flew straight into a web.
PEARL: Jack Webb! Who arrested her on an outstanding forgery warrant.
> A big orange spider with multifaceted eyes was waiting for her.
> Almost before she could cry out Joy was hopelessly entangled.
MADGE: Proving again the very thin line between carefully planned
battle tactics and imbecilic coincidence!
SCRATCH: Wait, what's Tarantulus doin' here? When did this become a
"Beast Wars" crossover?
PEARL (looking at Scratch): Speaking of hopeless...
>
> Willemina W. Witchie-poo was in many ways a stereotypical witch.
SCRATCH: She read Simone de Beauvoir, and made guys pay for the meal
without putting out!
> She was ugly, with pea-green skin,
> a large pointy nose and a similarly pointed chin. The only way most
> people could tell the nose from the chin was that the chin had a wart
> on it.
PEARL (getting angry): Perhaps the fact that one was above the
other might *also* be a subtle clue?!
> Her figure, though feminine, was hidden under dark ragged cloths and
> a torn cape.
GYPSY (sings shrilly): A cup of TEE-EA! A COO-KIE! And YOO-OOOU!
> Her hair was rust red and she wore a black pointed hat.
MADGE: Look, we *know* what Witchie-poo looks like already!
SCRATCH: And I *never* needed to know about her feminine figure!
Bluch!
>When she smiled
>most of her teeth were black.
PEARL: Brit witch!
>She smiled as Orson and Seymour the spider
>brought Joy into the main room of her castle.
SCRATCH: Yeah, their presence just brightens up a room, they do.
GYPSY: No, "Joy". Capital "J".
> Scared was too light a word for what Joy was feeling. Seymour had
> her wrapped with webbing from head to toe.
MADGE: Does this make Seymour a Webmaster?
SCRATCH: Ha! Webmaster. (pause) I don't get it.
> Her wings were numb and she
> was starting to loose feeling in her arms and legs. The spider and
> the vulture had made it clear that Witchie-poo wanted more than
> Freddie Flute. She was also hungry.
GYPSY (sings): Gimme a break! Gimme a break! Break me off a piece of
that bug-a-loo!
> The two flunkies carried Joy to the foot of the witch and then
> dropped her on the floor. "Where's my flute?" Demanded Witchie-poo.
> "What flute?" Joy stammered.
PEARL (witch): Oh. Well, never mind, you obviously don't know
anything...
> "Look you overgrown moth,"
MADGE: Overgrown *fairy*!
GYPSY: Overgrown person of winged diversity!
>Witchie-poo reached down and grabbed the
>cocoon Joy had been sealed into, hauling her up so that the Bugaloo
> and the witch were face to face.
MADGE: So she grabbed Joy by the cocoon. That was all Mark had to say!
> Joy felt her teeth wilt under the witches breath. "when I ask you
>questions I better get answers." Her tone of voice changed to a parody
> of kindness. "Now where's my little Freddy-kins?"
> "I don't know?" Joy tried.
PEARL (witch): Oh, drat! A counterargument! I hadn't planned on that.
GYPSY (witch): Why did I agree on a Presidential debate format? I
should stick with changing stuff into frogs! That's where my
strengths lie.
> Witchie-poo tried to let go of the bugaloo but her hand was stuck to
> the webbing. She braced it with her other hand and pulled it free,
> only to have the other hand get stuck.
SCRATCH: The Wicked Shemp of the West.
> Growling the witch pulled both hands free, letting Joy fall to the
> floor. Taking rusty wand out from a pocket in her robes Witchie-Poo
> raised both hands to cast a spell. "Clapp, snap, make sure this bug
> is trapped!"
MADGE: Joy groaned at the Dr. Seuss impersonation, and threw a pillow
at the already closed witch.
>From the four corners of the room the dust that covered most of the
>furniture in the castle stirred and flowed.
SCRATCH: Hey, guys, look! A full set of wicca furniture! (snickers)
PEARL (to Scratch): You can be stuffed and mounted, you know.
SCRATCH: Well, yeah. But not cheaply. It takes a craftsman.
> It streamed toward the
>fallen bugaloo as if sucked by a vacuum cleaner.
GYPSY (sings): Nobody does it like you... Hoo-VER!
> Mixing with Seymour's webbing to it flowed like quicksilver. When it
> was over Joy's wings were clamped into a metallic harness that held
> them awkwardly out from her back. The metal was inlaid with hundreds
>of tiny spiders. More of it formed into chains that held her wrist
>about a foot apart. "Haven't lost it."
MADGE: Huh. And this is better than having her encased in sticky
webbing... how?
> Witchie-Poo grunted to herself, surveying her work. Hauling the
> Bugaloo to her feet the witch snarled at her. "Now where's my flute?"
PEARL (Joy, pathetic): What flute? I don't know?
> "There it is, Chiefy." Orson cried, pointing to Joy's blouse.
GYPSY: Lawsuit!
> Witchie-poo took a closer look and saw Freddie's form pressing
> against the fabric.
[All snigger.]
SCRATCH: Sometimes a flute is just a flute.
MADGE: And then again...
> "Should've known." she said, reaching in and grabbing the flute.
GYPSY: True. She really should have.
PEARL: First sign of Alzheimers. Soon, she'll be drawing Saturday
night baths before remembering water melts her...
SCRATCH: She'll look at snakes and wonder, was she about to change them
into something, or did she just change some people into snakes?
> Witchie-poo held him up to her ear. "Are you still in good voice my
> little precious?" Freddie answered her with a loud, high pitched
> squeal.
MADGE: Eh. He's still better than Siouxsie Sioux.
> Stunned the witch dropped him and covered her ears.
SCRATCH: She has two weaknesses: sudden gusts of air, and noise! Other
than that, she's a perfectly competent witch.
> Joy lunged at the witch, grabbing both Freddie and the wand. Then she
> shoved Witchie-Poo over and ran, vanishing into one of the corridors
> leading to the interior of the castle.
GYPSY (Joy): (run)... (pant)... (gasp)... Hey, look, Z-Brick! (gasp)...
(pant)...
> "Stop her you idiots!" Witchie-poo shouted.
SCRATCH: To herself or to Joy?
PEARL: We'll never know.
> Orson and Seymour both started after Joy at once, running right into
>Witchie-Poo. The three went down in a tangle of arms, legs and wings.
PEARL: All the French children in the audience fall over in hysterics!
> Joy turned a corner and crouched down against the wall, her heart
> pounding in her ears.
GYPSY: She's a bug. Shouldn't she be feeling the vibration of her
heart through her leg bristles?
> Behind her she could hear Witchie-poo, Seymour and Orson searching
> for her. She tried to reach behind and undo the wing clamps
SCRATCH (as Ed MacMahon): Wing clamps!
PEARL (tearing an envelope, blowing into it, removing a paper): What
was the best way to make Paul and Linda McCartney shut up?
> but they held her
> wings straight out from her back.
MADGE: The sad thing is, Mark thought he was creating a "three-
dimensional character".
> That was too awkward an angle to reach.
> "What do we do?" asked Freddie?
GYPSY (Joy): Well, you generate conflict between the hero and the
villain. Me... well, I like, fly around and stuff.
> "I don't know, we have to find a way out of here." And quickly, Joy
> thought.
SCRATCH: Way to internalize that proviso, Bug-girl!
> Bugaloos were not made for running.
PEARL: These bugs were made for walkin'!
> She was out of breath and her legs
> felt like lead.
GYPSY: You could scratch them with your fingernail?
> A small spider dropped in front of her face and Joy
> screamed and jumped back.
MADGE (Joy, terrified): Augh! A tiny creature from a related species!
SCRATCH: Don't you hate it when relatives drop in unexpectedly? Always
at the worst possible time.
> She hit heavily against a wooden door, spraining her wings.
PEARL: Breaking her wings, more likely.
SCRATCH: Yeah, gossamer's pretty, but it's brittler than fiberglass.
> The door
> opened a crack and moonlight streamed in through the opening. Joy
> didn't know where the door led too and didn't care. With all her
> might
MADGE: With all her Mighty Mite might!
> she pushed
> it open and fell through. She fell onto a hard bricked surface.
GYPSY: The X-Brick and the Y-Brick!
MADGE: To go with the Z-Brick, you mean.
PEARL: Yup, a full coordinate system is now in place. We can now
pinpoint the exact place this fanfic sucks.
> Getting up
> Joy closed the door just as she saw Seymour coming toward it. She
> heard him thump against it and desperately looked for something to
> hold the door closed.
SCRATCH: Hey, look, Smuckers! That'll make a great door *jam*! Ha!
GYPSY: Eh, I was ex-*pectin* you would say that.
SCRATCH: HA! You *preserved* the integrity of the joke!
GYPSY: And did it *jelly* well!
PEARL: Oh, stop it! Both of you! Christ!
> Joy was in a small garden, one that had long been neglected from the
> look of it. A birdbath was pushed on it's side, the trees were all
> dead or sickly looking.
MADGE: Oh, look, The Garden of Good and Evil! At high noon no less!
> Rushing over to the birdbath Joy rolled it over to the door and
> braced it with a rock.
[All rise to leave the theater.]
PEARL: Good thing Seymour's got the metabolism of a three-toed tree
sloth.
> The door trembled as it was pounded on from the other side. Joy ran
> down the first path she saw, not wanting to be there when the door
> gave way.
>
/ * \... = 2 =... > 3 <... [ 4 ]... ( 5 )... | 6 |...
[OPEN ON: SOL Bridge, desk. Now Pearl is reading "The Seven Habits of
Highly Destructive People". Scratch and Gypsy enter, approaching her.]
SCRATCH: Pearl? We're confused.
PEARL (not looking up): And?
SCRATCH (flummoxed): Oh.
[Befuddled, Scratch and Gypsy go just off-screen, and huddle. We hear
them whispering: "Maybe I wasn't specific?" "Let me try." "OK, good!"
They re-enter.]
GYPSY: Pearl? We're confused about *today's story*.
PEARL (not looking up): So?
GYPSY (despairing): Oo.
SCRATCH: Well...
MADGE (suddenly interrupting): Oh will you all just start the stupid
sketch already?!
PEARL (putting down book): Oh, you mean that deal where I explain about
Living Island?
SCRATCH (relieved): Yes! Yes! Living Island! The deal! Whatzit be?
PEARL: It's very simple. Everything on Living Island is actually a
living thing. The books are alive, the houses are alive. The stores
and shops and boutiques, they're all alive!
GYPSY: Even J.C. Penny's?
PEARL (shrugs): Well, come on. They're magic, not miracle workers.
MADGE: Well I say it's a crock! Leaving aside the biological
impossibilities of how a solid metal object could respirate, what
exactly are we defining as a "thing"? If my smartly tailored pants
suit is alive, does that mean each of the buttons on it is alive, too?
The belt? The inseam? The molecules of rayon and wool?
PEARL: How could *you* have a pants suit?
SCRATCH: Maybe they'd all meld together into one being. A geshtalt,
if you will.
GYPSY: But what about living ham?
PEARL, SCRATCH and MADGE (staring at Gyps): Huh?
GYPSY: Well, if I have a living ham, and I cut a slice off to make a
sandwich, does the slice then become an individual, separate and
distinct, with its own voice and viewpoint?
MADGE: Yeah, and if I smother it with living mustard, add a piece of
living cheese, and put it between two slices of living bread, does
it immediately subsume its newfound independence to the new
entity that is the living sandwich? And does its character change if
I add pickles?
SCRATCH: Um, wait- doesn't the living ham feel it when you cut it up?
I mean, ick! It would be like being flayed alive!
GYPSY: And didn't the ham have to be baked? Lordy- do cooks really have
to put living pieces of meat in 400 degree ovens, and hear their
tortured wails resonate throughout the kitchen for sixty unbearable
minutes?
PEARL: Worse! The meat comes out- still alive!
[Musical sting!]
SCRATCH, MADGE and GYPSY (flinching in horror): Oh, no!
PEARL: Oh, yes!
[Creepy background music starts to play, and camera starts to close
in on Pearl as she continues.]
PEARL (menacing): That's why there are no chefs on Living Island.
They've all been driven mad- mad!- by the constant fear that one day,
during the murky, sinister hours of twilight, the dishes they have
cooked will return... creeping up the hall stairs... slipping through a
crack in the door... then stealthily up to their beds... electric
carving knife in hand... ready to wreak their sweet, sweet revenge!
[Music stops. Light flashes.]
PEARL: So who's for burgers?
[Scratch, Gyps and Madge nervously decline.]
[Logo, commercials.]
--- End Part 2 ---
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