(A saloon.)
Myself: Janie, why do women like men who are rebels?
Smuthers: Why do you ask?
Myself: Because it doesn't agree with their biological programming. They want a mate who can give them security and comfort.
Smuthers: Programming? Where did you get that from? The Stepford Wives?
Myself: Do you like guys who are rebels?
Smuthers: It depends.
Myself: On what?
Smuthers: On how much money they have.
Myself: Perhaps I should rephrase the question. Why do women like wealthy, rebellious men more than wealthy, conformist men?
Smuthers: I don't know. More interesting, perhaps?
Myself: Well then it's bound to be an interesting show tonight because our guests are all rebels.
Smuthers: Is that why we're in a bar, drinking ginger ale?
Myself: No. That's just because I'm poor. Oh look. Here comes our first guest. (Enter a captivating blonde. She pulls up a stool and orders a drink. I smile in appreciation as Smuthers glares at me.) Glad you could make it.
Smuthers: Aren't you going to introduce her?
Myself: Oh uh… (reading my notes) Gretchen Fetchin, thank you for joining us. (Fetchin and I exchange smiles.)
Smuthers: Aren't you going to tell us what kind of a rebel she is?
Fetchin: I'm a nudist.
Smuthers: I see.
Myself: I think nudists are among the most morally advanced rebels.
Fetchin: Thank you.
Smuthers: I don't.
Myself: You dare to contradict me in front of a guest? This better be good.
Smuthers: I think clothes are an improvement on most people.
Myself: Philistine!
Smuthers: But I'll grant you that she is a rebel.
Fetchin: I don't see myself that way. I only shed my clothes among other nudists. A real rebel would have come to this bar in the nude.
Smuthers: You did.
Fetchin: But I'm dressed!
Smuthers: Not in his eyes.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Commercial: Yum Yum Sugar Sauce
(A suburban home. A little girl plays with her doll. Enter the man of the house, home from work.)
Girl: (running over to greet him with a hug) Daddy! Daddy!
Father: Hi baby! And here's something for my favourite girl.
(He hands her a lollipop. She pulls the wrapper off and gives it a lick, but seems disappointed.)
Father: What's the matter, precious?
Girl: It's not sweet enough.
Announcer: We at Yum Yum Food Products know that you want to make your children happy. And we also know that they love sugar. That's why we developed a sauce that can turn any meal into a rich dessert.
(He takes out a dispenser of Yum Yum and pours it on the candy for the girl.)
Father: (handing back the lolli) Try it now.
Girl: Mmmm! Yum! Yum!
Announcer: Once your children have tasted our sauce, they'll want to use it on everything they eat. Let the dentist worry about their teeth.
(Father and daughter at the dentist's office. The child sits on the chair with her mouth open as the dentist peers in. He turns to the father with a grave expression.)
Father: Bad news, Doc?
Dentist: I'm afraid so.
Father: Braces?
Dentist: No. Dentures.
Announcer: Sweeten the meal with Yum Yum Sugar Sauce.
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Myself: Our next guest is an Irishman, Mister Shane Shaughnessy!
(Enter Shaughnessy.)
Myself: Thank you for being here.
Shaughnessy: You're welcome. Why am I here?
Myself: Because you're a rebel.
Shaughnessy: What makes you say that?
Myself: You're Irish.
Shaughnessy: You think that makes me a rebel?
Myself: Didn't your people rebel against the English?
Shaughnessy: Yes, but we were just defending ourselves. We didn't go into their land and starve half of their people to death.
Myself: No, but you attacked Newfoundland.
Shaughnessy: They were trying to steal all our jigs! But when you give the Irish a fair chance, they're model citizens. Wasn't law and order kept by Irish police officers in your country for the better part of a century?
Myself: No, you're thinking of New York City there. But I see your point.
Shaughnessy: You shouldn't stereotype people like that. Now give us a pint.
Myself: All I can afford is ginger ale.
Shaughnessy: Fine. I can use it as a chaser. (He pulls out a forty-ounce bottle of liquor from his coat, unscrews the cap, and guzzles it as Smuthers looks at him in horror.)
(Commercial.)
Myself: He's the ultimate rebel and an excellent pilot, to boot. Here on a six-week furlough from his duties at the rebel stronghold, it's Duke Flypaper!
(Enter Flypaper in his flight suit, holding his space helmet at his side.)
Smuthers: How did you get him?
Flypaper: Dave knows how to use the source.
Smuthers: How did you learn that?
Myself: My uncle was a Knight of Columbus. Still, I'm surprised you could make it, Duke. I heard that that evil empire is building another dearth star.
Flypaper: Actually, I came on business. There's another doomsday machine, far more destructive than any dearth star, that exists right here on your world.
Myself: Worse than a dearth star? It must be pretty bad.
Flypaper: It is. It threatens the integrity of the whole universe.
Myself: Wow! What is it?
Flypaper: Muzak.
(Commercial.)
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