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Wednesday, 12 March
The TV Party
By Harold Pinter. Skot sits facing a television. It plays advertisements. Skot lights a match and watches it burn. TV: We'll tell you how the flooding can affect your commute. S: I live on a hill in an urban center. I walk to work. TV: Be prepared for the Romulans. S: I always am. TV: Q13 Fox shows you the latest ads to get you to go see the Mariners in action. S: They do, and I almost always resist. TV: What does Boonie think? S: I guess he's disappointed in me. TV: WILLARD! S: Rats. TV: Foster Farms Chicken. S: Chicken is good too. TV: That, my friend, is the sweet smell of Windex. S: Uuuuuuuuuuuhh. TV: Somebody hasn't discovered the new Metamucil. S: Please. TV: You can enjoy eggs without the cholesterol. S: Please. TV: Inspector Gadget is back with even more gadgets. S: You're making me sick. My fiancee will be worried. TV: Dont trip! U luv her? S: Of course. TV: This mother's day, why not show her you care? S: Mother's Day? TV: Give someone special the night off. S: I'll try. TV: Foster Farms Chicken. S: I'll try. TV: You can enjoy eggs without the cholesterol. S: I wanted--I wanted--I wanted-- TV: Which came first? S: She wanted-- TV: Chicken? S: I-- TV: Egg? S: I-- TV: Which came first? Which came first? Which came first? Skot screams. TV: Do you know your own face? Silence. He is crouched in the chair. S: It was a lovely party tonight. TV: You were the belle of the ball. S: I was? TV: Oh yes. S: Oh, it's true. I was. (Pause.) I know I was. Curtain. Note: Comments are closed on old entries. Comments Ha ha ha ha ha ha! This is the funniest thing I've ever read. It's not nice to fool with Mother Nature. This ain't Pace picante sauce! And they told two friends, and they told two friends, and so on, and so on ... Oh, Fab! I'm glad! There's lemon-freshened borax in you! Born under a bad sign, baby, with a blue moon in your eyes ... Don't go chasing waterfalls, please stick to the rivers and the lakes that you're used to ... Crazy, but that's how it goes. Last night, the President and I were looking at baby-pictures of Chelsea. We all know Carson Dyle's dead, Mrs. Lampert. That's not spaghetti, that's linguini. I can bring home the bacon, fry it up in a pan ... And don't forget who's taking you home & in whose arms you're gonna be ... Dig if you will the picture ... Grape-nuts! A hearty, natural cereal. And a few spritzes of precip in some locales. Post a comment |