You got a little problem here. Well, I don’t know why you people seem to think this is magic, it’s just this little chromium switch here. Ah, you people are so superstitious…
It all began innocently enough on Tuesday. I was sitting in my office on that drizzly afternoon listening to the monotonous stacatto of rain on my desk top and reading my name on the glass of my office door, “Regnad Kcin”. My secretary lay snoring on the floor, her long beautiful gams pinioned under the couch. I didn’t hear him enter, but my nostrils flared at the smell of his perfume…
Pyramid Patchoulli.
There was only one joker in L.A. sensitive enough to wear that scent and I had to find out who he was.
::cut organ music::
Good afternoon Mister Danger, I’m Rocky Rococco.
Thanks half pint, you just saved me a lot of investigative work.
Maybe yes, maybe no. Do you know what… this is?
::rustling paper:
(I had to think for a minute. What cool game was he playing?)
Uh… That’s a brown paper bag.
That’s correct, now look inside Mister Danger.
::rustling paper::
What do you see?
That’s easy, that’s a pickle.
Very good, now I think you’re ready for this!
::clinking sound::
That’s nothing but a two bit ring from a Crackerback Jox.
I’ll sell it to you for five thousand dollars.
Hah! What kind of a chump do you take me for?
First class!
That tarnished piece of tin is worthless!
Worthless? Hah, hah, hah ::coughing::
Out of the fog, into the smog (cough, cough)…
At Fourth and Drucker he turns left. At Drucker and Fourth he turns right. He crosses MacArthur Park and walks into a great sandstone building. ow! my nose!
:;;;;;; the pyramid again? ::::::::
3½¢ Power and the certainty of rightfulness are an appalling combination!
Jaundice it is! Give him the antidote, Judy!
According to my careful prosthesis, you’ve got The Plague.
{W. C. Fields voice}
No, no, no my boy. You’re confused. The sun’s not going down–the horizon is moving up!
{/W. C. Fields voice}
Doctor, give him something for his cough!
All right, here’s a quarter.
That’s not much.
It’s not much of a cough.
I went down to the Chemical Corn Exchange bank the other day. Gave 'em three ears of corn, they gave me three beakers filled with chemicals.
“Injuns! Draw the wagons into a circle!”
“Why do you always do that??”
We get better reception that way. Say, mind if we put our antenna on yonder peak?"
“That’s our holy mountain.”
“This is our holy antenna.”
“Toad away, toad away,
toad away, toad away,
where do you go
when you’re toad away?”
Ah, grubs again. Grumble, grumble.
“Pass the lord and praise the ammunition…Pass the lord and praise the ammunition… The veteran’s tap dance administration is proud to present Forward (knock, knock) into the past.”
“Where the vegetables are green and you can pee right into the stream…”
“The icebox is being unlock by the president of the Armenian Medical Association, under whose careful supervision these toxins are being administered.”
If you lived where I live
And I lived where you live
Then we’d live where pigs live
In trees.
Yes! We all live in trees! Like pigs!
“Hey, what’re we stopping for?”
“Are we in Goshen yet?”
“Can’t go no further, this is Injun territory!”
"Well then, it’s Treaty Time! (fanfare)
My fellow Indians, speaking for the great white father in Washington and all the American people, let me say how much we respect you savages for your native ability to adapt and survive in whatever Godforsaken wilderness we move you too…
Out there…
Sign here.
“My fellow settlers, we stand here at the edge of civilization, on the banks of the Mississippi River, looking west at our destiny. What may appear to the fainthearted as a limitless expanse of Godforsaken wilderness is in reality a golden opportunity for God-fearing people like ourselves and our families and our children, and the generations a-coming, to carve a new life out of the American Indian.”
“I still owe a lot of money for the airport.”
“You owe a lot people. A lot of money. For a lot of airports.”
“You’ll never work in this town again, Tirebiter!”
“What town?”
Spreak Engrish, troop!