(On the way down a gloomy stone stairway:)
Smuthers: Where are you taking me?
Myself: You heard what the officer said about not having a permit. (I reach the floor and light a torch on the wall. Smuthers advances cautiously.) Anyway, this will suit the theme of tonight's show.
Smuthers: What's that? Medieval punishments?
Myself: (leading her down a corridor) No. Megalomania. Don't you know your spy movies? Evil plans for world domination are always devised in subterranean bases.
Smuthers: And kidnapped women's cries for help are always silenced in suburban basements.
Myself: Oh, we wouldn't do that. We just want to wage global war.
Smuthers: Who's we?
Myself: Don't worry. You'll like them.
(Arriving at a door, I knock.)
Ominous Voice: What's the password?
Myself: What? There's no password. Is that you, Morton? Stop horsing around and let us in.
Ominous Voice: I can't let you in without the password.
Myself: (losing composure) Would you like to say the password?
Smuthers: Me? How would I know the password? They're your friends.
Myself: Just stand in front of that little peephole and say whatever.
Smuthers: If you say so. (taking front and centre) Whatever.
(The door swings open and Smuthers reluctantly follows me into a cavernous library. In the background, classical music plays serenely. A map of the world with markers on it lies on a table around which sit three bachelors. One of them gets up to offer Smuthers a seat but she decides to disappear into the privacy of the reading materials.)
Myself: My three guests tonight are my gentleman competitors in a most serious game: Rodney Von Zant, Nathan Bates, and the nefarious Professor Jiles Morton. There may be three of them, but I plan to face them one at a time.
Von Zant: A girl, eh? Well she won't get away with using her feminine powers to upset an an already disastrously volatile balance of power.
Myself: Never mind the girl! Are your forces in the southwest ready to stand down?
Von Zant: Oh you'd like that, wouldn't you? And clear the way for an attack on my flank from your fleet when my back is turned.
Myself: Your men can retreat safely now if they want. We'll just laugh merrily at them as they run for their lives.
Von Zant: I have left them with strict orders to fight to the last man.
Myself: (gravely) So you insist upon a bloodbath. Very well. Hand me those dice.
(Commercial.)
Bates: (To Smuthers) Would you help us to resolve a dispute?
Myself: Her? She won't help you. She's as loyal as they come.
Smuthers: What's the problem?
Bates: This war is turning him into some kind of monster.
Myself: It is not.
Bates: He sent his forces through neutral territory.
Smuthers: That sounds illegal to me.
Myself: They stayed neutral as they crossed it.
Bates: One of his submarines sank a tourist vessel on its maiden voyage and drowned all the passengers.
Smuthers: What did you do that for?
Myself: It was the only way we could get the spy.
Bates: He even lied and told everyone I attacked him first.
Smuthers: Well that's not very nice. You shouldn't lie.
Myself: That's just normal propaganda. It's always the other side that starts it. Look at the World War Two broadcast about a Polish attack on German soil. And then there was that Vietnam War fabrication of a Vietnamese attack on U.S. ships in the Gulf of Tonkin.
Bates: And why have you chosen to conduct your campaign against me with the tactics of the losing side for both of those wars?
Myself: Because it makes it more of a challenge.
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Commercial: Bloodfist Interactive Video Game.
(A living room.)
Baby Brother: Take that! And that!
Older Sister: What are you doing?
Baby Brother: I'm playing my interactive video game. It lets me be a tough guy the same way it lets me be good at sports. See? (He throws a punch at the air and sends his animated onscreen adversary tumbling.)
Older Sister: Well that might work on a TV screen, but if you're ever in a real fight, you should always start with a taunt before you throw any punches.
Baby Brother: What's a taunt?
Older Sister: That's when you say something mean.
(The next day at the cafeteria.)
Baby Brother: Who ate my brownie?
Bully: I did
Baby Brother: You come from your mother's bum!
(That evening at home. Older sister's friend is enjoying the video game.)
Friend: Great game! But doesn't it belong to your baby brother? Why isn't he playing it?
Older Sister: He's in the hospital.
Announcer: Bring home the streets with Bloodfist.
--------------------------------------------
Morton: Your fleet is paralyzed. Your planes lie smashed on the ground. And your once proud cities have been reduced to bombed out ruins. Nothing left to do now but hit you with a cruise missile. (He rattles the dice.)
Myself: No! Wait! You can have Australia.
Morton: That's not enough. I want the girl.
Myself: Who, Janie? Those Aussie girls could drink her under the table. Besides, I don't think she could ever leave me.
Morton: Then prepare to be annihilated.
Myself: Oh Janie! Janie honey! Where are you, sweetie?
Smuthers: (from the bookshelves) I'm over here, talking to some old guy on a ladder.
Myself: Could you come out for a minute, sweetheart?
Smuthers: (appearing) What's with all the gooey talk?
Myself: You know I love you.
Smuthers: Sure. What do you want?
Myself: Could you turn around once for the gentleman?
Smuthers: (disapproving of Morton's lascivious leer) For him? Who do you think I am?
Myself: I'll let you have candy popcorn for breakfast.
Smuthers: Oh, all right. (She completes a circle.)
Myself: Is it a deal?
Morton: You may withdraw in peace and have time to repair your badly damaged war machine.
Myself: Excellent. Then I'll see you next year. (I make for the exit.)
Smuthers: We're going? Good. It feels like a dungeon down here.
Myself: Well one of us is going.
Smuthers: What do you mean one of us? You didn't just trade me to your friend right now, did you?
Myself: Tune in tomorrow for another -
Smuthers: You're not finished. You still have to do the song.
Myself: That's what videos are for. Have a nice life. (Exit myself.)
Von Zant: Gentlemen, I think we may safely presume that by the time we are through fighting each other over this girl, no stone of our great labyrinth will have been unturned.
(Commercial)
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