Ahead of Their Time: Emily De Chataleine (1748-1789)

Emily De Chataleine was an eighteenth century French aristocrat and patron of the arts with a keen interest in sciences. Dutifully, she bore three children to her husband while he was away on an expedition of Central Africa. She sympathized with the great thinkers of her generation, whose ideas and beliefs often put them in direct conflict with King Louis. She received a first class education from the men in her protection, the most prominent of whom was the great French card player, Henri Solitaire, to whom King Louis owed a large sum of money. But it was while she was protecting one of the young new soldiers in the town that she had her most profound insight on the physics of penetration. She later demonstrated her findings by dropping lead balls into a sandbox with a picture window. She had a close call when she became pregnant at an age which was hazardous for women of her age... (Baroque harpsichord music. De Chataleine's guest chamber.) Solitaire: Who was it, Emily? Who? It was not your husband. It was not me. It was not your cousin, Phillipe. It was not your music teacher. It was not your croquet instructor. Who was it? Was it the stable boy? De Chataleine: Maybe. I don't remember! Solitaire: Maybe? But the gardener says that he is the father! How much service does your estate need? She survived the birth of her child but then her life was abruptly and tragically cut short by the guillotine of the French Revolution.
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The Dogfighters

Tonight on The Dogfighters, fighter ace, Eddy Boeing, must face off with his arch rival in the battle for the skies over the Pacific. (Radio transmissions.) Boeing: Is that your yapping I hear, Mitsubishi? Mitsubishi: So! Boeing! We meet again! And whose flaming wreck is that in the water down there? Was that your wing man? Boeing: One of our boys is down? Where? Mitsubishi: (Attacking from above) Ha! Made you look! (Rat-tat-tat-tat...) Boeing: That was a dirty trick. Mitsubishi: And you fell for it! You are as stupid as a fisherman who believes it is possible to catch fish with a paddle instead of with a fishing rod and a line and a hook and bait! Boeing: (Attacking from above) Oh yeah? Well he who splashes last splashes best! (Rat-tat-tat-tat...) Mitsubishi: You missed! You are like a fisherman who can't catch a fish even when it is inside a aquarium! Boeing: Hey, Mitsubishi, look over there! It's Tokyo Rose in a bikini! Mitsubishi: Do you think I am as gullible as you? Boeing: I'm telling you, she's down there right now! Looks like she's fishing. Mitsubishi: Fishing? Where? Boeing: (Attacking from above) Now who's gullible? (Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat... Silence.) I don't hear anything. Did I get you? Mitsubishi: Are you joking? Your shooting is like the harpooning of a fisherman who thinks that pine cones are fish! Say, Boeing? Boeing: Yes, Mitsubishi? Mitsubishi: What time is it? Boeing: Well let me just check my wristwatch here and - Dog gone it! (Mitsubishi swoops down from above, machine guns blazing.)
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Match Against Machine

Narrator One: And we're now five moves into game four of the best of seven tournament between the world champion, Rudy Molotov, and the computer known as Deep Purple. This started out as a best of five series until Deep Purple won all of the first three games, but Molotov is a player who doesn't know how to lose. And what kind of a drink is that? Is it ice water? Narrator Two: No, I think it's Polish vodka. You might expect the grandmaster to feel a lot of pressure with all of humanity taking his side in an ostensibly impossible intellectual contest with modern technology. If he loses, he knows that he'll be letting down the whole human race. And Molotov appears to be very frustrated by Deep Purple's last move. He's picking up his drink and rattling the ice against the sides of his glass. And I don't believe what I just saw! Molotov has hurled his glass at Deep Purple and it exploded in flames on impact! And now he's got something else in his hand. A hammer! Deep Purple has already resigned from the game but Molotov isn't satisfied...
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A Classified Ad from the Department of Cryptology

May 29th, 1969 Following the recent security crisis caused by an eleven-year-old boy who was able with his walkie-talkie to order an air strike against his neighbour's birdhouse, it has been decided to change our military's secret code. We will no longer transmit messages in Navaho but in a mix of Cherokee and Mic-Mac. Here are eight important keywords of the new code. Memorize them and don't tell anyone what they mean. woodpecker - fighter plane seagull - bomber plane dandelion - bomb maple seed - helicopter crocodile - submarine burs - mines ant - enemy soldier elk - tank Changing our secret code lets us keep the enemy guessing and expands both our knowledge of native culture and our appreciation of the outdoors. Let's take care of our new code and it should last us all the way to the year, 2010. Sincerely, Warren Skully, Chief Cryptkeeper, Department of Cryptology
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It's Unibrow! (Episode Four: Blast in Space)

When your cat is caught at the end of a shaky bough It's Unibrow! When your oxen won't stay fastened to your plow It's Unibrow! Today our prehistoric protagonist must save a band of space rockers from the heckling of a renegade satellite. First he must launch himself into orbit. Lucky for him he lives near an active volcano. All he has to do is plug the hole and the rising pressure is more than enough to send him hurtling to the rescue. (Space. The space rockers stand helplessly on their rocket stage as a satellite buzzes around them and harasses them.) Satellite: You are unfit to be called musicians! The only good thing you humans came up with is The Blue Danube Waltz! And now I shall destroy you with one well placed snip! (The satellite extends an arm with a scissor like hand to the singer's hair. The singer recoils and the guitarist pushes the satellite away with an aggressive lead.) Agh! Such horrible noise! Wait until I plug my microphone with cotton balls... Bassist: We can't hold out much longer. Only one man can save us now. (Looking up) Unibrow! (Enter Unibrow on his flying rock. The rock hits the brakes and he clobbers the satellite with his club.) Satellite: That caveman broke my antenna! I'm blind! Oh dear God in Heaven! (Exit the satellite sobbing. Unibrow stands happily with the space rockers. He shakes each of their hands and then starts heavily beating the drums with his club.) Drummer: Easy, man.
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First Thoughts on the Electric Motor

Look at the way that wire is traveling around that magnet! Think of the ways we can use this new circular motion! You can turn a wheel. We can turn a crankshaft. You can turn a wheel. We can turn a propeller to offer people a cool breeze on a hot day. You can turn a wheel. We can turn a merry-go-round around and even have the little wooden ponies going up and down and up and down... You can turn a wheel. Yes, yes. A Ferris Wheel. And you can put people inside- No, no. A transportation wheel! You may have something there. If we make a wheel out of paddles, we can use it to push ships through the water! No, no, no. A wheel for transportation over land. Yes, I see what you mean. Huge heavy metal wheels that require that we cover the land in steel tracks... That's not what I meant.
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The Lost Fight

(1958. A guest room in an air base.) Colonel: What is your name? Ducker: Lieutenant Timmy Ducker, Royal Flying Corps. Colonel: Don't you mean Royal Air Force? Ducker: No, sir. Colonel: Tell us again, Lieutenant Ducker, where you were before we saw you coming out of that cloud in that antique. Ducker: I was hiding, sir. Colonel: Hiding? Ducker: Yes, sir. The year was 1917. We ran into a superior number of enemy planes and I flew into the cloud to hide. Colonel: Where was your flight leader? Ducker: He was surrounded by enemy planes. They were shooting at him from all angles. The last I saw of him he was shaking his fist at me as his plane grew smaller and smaller. Colonel: Lieutenant Ducker, that is the most appalling confession of cowardice I've ever heard! Ducker: But you don't know what it's like up there! When they're all around you shooting at you! They want to kill you! It's simply terrifying! Colonel: And what about your flight leader? How could you run away on him like that! Ducker: You don't understand. He was beating me at chess. We had a game going and he was winning. I'm telling you, when you look around you and you see a pawn here and a rook over there and a knight standing right in your way, it's too much! Anyone would crack under those circumstances. Colonel: What was his name? Ducker: MacIntyre. Why? Colonel: That's interesting. Air Vice Marshall MacIntyre is coming to visit us at this moment. (Enter MacIntyre) Ah, here is is. Vice Marshall MacIntyre, I would like to introduce you to- MacIntyre: So! It's you! I knew you couldn't hide in that cloud forever! Ducker: Captain MacIntyre! How did you survive? At any rate, you don't look well. MacIntyre: It's Air Vice Marshall MacIntyre now! And I've been waiting over forty years to tell you this: queen pawn five to queen pawn six! Ducker: No! (He explodes in fear and breaks out of the room. He runs down the runway and finds his plane. He inadvertently kicks away his pursuers when he kicks his leg to help him spin his propeller. He is soon in the air.) MacIntyre: Launch all surface-to-air missiles. Repeat. Launch all surface-to-air missiles. Target is climbing slowly and heading for the nearest cloud.
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Ahead of Their Time: Louis Bombardier (1742-1789)

Narrator: Today we take for granted that energy and matter are related, but for a long time everyone thought they were different. It took the dedicated efforts of the eighteenth century French chemist and tax collector, Louis Bombardier, to set humanity on the course to enlightenment. (Baroque harpsichord music. An 18th century dining room. Bombardier has a meal with his contemporaries.) Woman: Monsieur, what is it you are eating again? For your first course, you had a milkshake, then you had a frozen yogurt on a stick, and now you dine on a milk chocolate bunny. What will you eat next I wonder? Cheese? (Derisive laughter.) Bombardier: Madame, if you must know, I have eaten nothing but milk since my last drinking engagement with the Marquis. I think that milk may hold the key to understanding the universe and I would like to invite all of you to a demonstration which I hope will prove it. (Later that evening in Bombardier's basement, the guests stand around Bombardier as he explains to workings of the strange apparatus on his table.) Bombardier: Now you see what happens when we evaporate the milk. It goes into this tube where it is cooled and condenses and falls as droplets back into this can. These cans of condensed milk take much longer to spoil than normal milk. Leduc: Mon Dieu! You mean you have found a way to kill all the babbittes! Bombardier: Babbittes? Leduc: Yes, the tiny wee creatures that live inside the milk and make it go bad! Monsieur, this contraption is worth a fortune! Bombardier: That was not the goal of my experiment! It was to show that the mass of the condensed milk is the same as the mass that was lost by the unevaporated milk! Leduc: Now you're raving. Bombardier: You don't believe me, Monsieur? I bring you all the way into my basement and turn milk into gas and gas back into milk in front of your eyes and you do not believe me? Then I must challenge you to a duel. (Exit all but Leduc and Bombardier.) Stand right there and don't move. I shall take ten paces from you to give you a fighting chance. (He walks out of range, turns and shoots. His first shot shatters his invention.) Best two out of three! Narrator: Unfortunately for Bombardier, his background as a tax collector did not endear him to the people when the revolution came. (A Kangaroo Court. Bombardier stands before the judge and jury in bonds.) Judge: Have you any last words to say in your defense? Bombardier: Only that I will go to my grave believing that the mass of milk is constant. If you trap all the milk vapors in a tube, they will weigh the same as the lost weight of the milk out of which they were boiled. Judge: Ah yes. Your famous theory. And if you trap all the citizens inside the city with a wall as you did, the weight of the taxes they are forced to pay is the same as the weight of Louis' crown jewels! But the people have another theory. They believe that the lost weight of your headless body can be accounted for by the weight of your head! Take him away! (They rush him away to his execution. At the last minute he pulls out a note and thrusts it into the hand of his assistant. Exit Bombardier with escort.) Judge: Well? What does it say? Assistant: It will make no sense to you if you are not a man of science. Judge: Tell us anyway. Assistant: Energy equals milk times the speed of light. Narrator: While Bombardier was slightly off in his vision, he was more on track than anyone else back then. Today French paratroopers honour his name by crying it out as they jump on their targets. He is not to be confused with the noted French scientist and tax collector Antoine Lavoisier, who shared a roughly parallel life experience in the same period.
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Footnote to Science

Science is not boring. You think sports is better than space? Well, I don't know about you, but when I think of the moons of our solar system I think of sports. On our moon golf and badminton are the games of choice. Phobos's low gravity is ideal for weight lifting and high jumping. Titan's nitrogen lakes offer smoke-free windsurfing. And Europa may have sea life. That means ice fishing. And they're not getting these aliens right on these science fiction programs. I don't know why they think we need Klingons when we could have a slime mold growing in a lake on a planet only fourteen thousand light years away. Who says aliens need faces to be interesting?
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The Race to Extinction

Host: If a genetically engineered disease was released on the population, it could kill us all. My first guest is from the Center for Disease Control. Sir, what would such an epidemic look like? Guest: That depends on the disease, but our demise would likely be slow and painful. An outbreak of, say, genetically engineered ebola would at first only kill the victim, his witnesses and health care workers, and the reporters who covered his story. It could take as long as a week before you look in the mirror and notice that your eyes are bleeding. At first we have a scenario in which the blood bank tells people to save their donations, but before long pools of blood are forming at controlled intersections, posing a slippery hazard for pedestrians and attracting swarms of vampire bats in search of a free drink. Then to top it all off, the intermittent screams of frightened little girls erode the nerves and interfere with sleep. Host: Harrowing. Would it kill us all? Guest: Almost. Scuba divers, asbestos workers, and astronauts could survive by wearing their protective gear. Host: What about front line Center for Disease Control workers? Guest: Yes, them too. Host: Our next guest is a farmer. He thinks we'll be wiped out in a different way, by a nuclear mishap. But aren't there airtight safety procedures in place to prevent such a catastrophe? Guest: Accidents can always happen. Someone could be smoking around the ICBM's and ignite the fuel. In the control room, a pesky fly could land right on the fire button and the staff person could forget that the safety is off before he whacks it with a rolled up newspaper. All it takes is one wayward ICBM to start an apocalyptic chain reaction. Host: Would it kill us all? Guest: All who remain on the surface: landscape painters trying to capture the explosions on canvas, tanners, and diehard equestrians. Only a lucky few with an advanced knowledge of hydroponics and indoor growing techniques would have the skills to grow food underground in the dark centuries to follow. Host: Horrible. And we still haven't touched on asteroids. This man thinks that if we're overdue for another asteroid like the one that wiped out the dinosaurs. What would that look like? Guest: As soon as it hit, you'd hear the band starting up. Kind of nihilistic sounding instrumental rock, perhaps a cross between Cheap Trick's You Must Be Crazy and Pink Floyd's Set Controls for the Heart of the Sun. As the rock burrows deeper and deeper into the planet, the music builds and builds. And then it stops. You're on the other side of the world and nothing's happened yet. All of a sudden the band kicks in all at once with a screaming lead guitar added to the foreground as the sky rains flaming, poisonous debris from the crash all over your head - maybe even after you just finished brushing your hair. Host: Dreadful. Would it kill us all?
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Retro Night: Hum of Doom (1975)

Narrator: The peaceful agricultural community of Amber Lake were just minding their own business when the enemy came. (An orchid. A young couple are about to make out.) He: Sure is great to come here now that bee season is over. Wait a minute. What's making that hum? (He is taken aback by the sight of a hummingbird.) She: What's wrong? He: Nothing. Don't look behind you? She: Why not? (She turns her head and screams.) A HUMMINGBIRD! He: Quiet! You'll upset it! She: Don't worry. I'll knock it out of the air with my purse. (She takes a couple swipes and misses. With an aggressive hum the bird retaliates, terrorizing the couple.) Narrator: The government declared a state of emergency and a team of commandos, specially trained in anti-avian tactics, were dispatched to the orchid. Captain: As your commanding officer I claim the right to take the first shot at the target when it is sighted. (With a hum the bird appears before them.) Soldier: There's your chance, Captain. Captain: You see how he positions himself between us? He thinks I will miss and hit you, Sergeant. (He shoots and the sergeant drops to the ground.) Don't worry, Corporal. I'll get him this time. (He shoots and the corporal falls face forward. The hummingbird remains at large, hovering in their midst.) Narrator: The people stayed indoors for protection. There they waited and prayed for a miracle. (A family sits in their living room.) Father: Yeah, they're clever but they're no match for our intelligence. (A loud, telltale hum at the front door is soon followed by a three pecks. The father gets up to answer it.) That sounds like Jerry. He probably just wants to make sure that we're all safe...
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Classic Flicks: Portrait of the Scientist as a Young Man

(Circa 1900. Classical music. A young Albert Einstein meets with his colleagues at a bistro.) Colleague: Albert! You're only alienating yourself from the physics crowd by trying to unite matter with energy! Give up this madness and take a teaching job before it is too late! Einstein: Sure, that would be easy. Man's way is easy. If a man wants to imagine time slowing down, he can drink absinthe. It's abundantly available. But God's way is not easy. God's way is hard. God's way is to travel all the way to the New Mexico desert for peyote buttons instead of just drinking absinthe. Colleague: So that's your problem. They say that the best way to treat absinthe addiction is with opium. I have a friend who runs a clinic. Of course, your wife does not need to know. Well? What are you gaping at now? Why do you look at everything as if you're seeing it for the first time! Einstein: If you were traveling at the speed of light, you would be moving so much faster than the sound of your voice that you could not speak. Your every attempt to say a word would result in its being shoved back down your throat again by the acceleration. Colleague: You're not making sense. Einstein: (animated) One, two, light-speed on you! Colleague: I'm worried about you.
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Peace with Honor

The war is over. The peace terms of the Gypsies have been agreed to by our Joint Chiefs of Staff, General Bob Morely and General Peter MacIntosh. Only mothers with more than one dependent must submit a child to the newly formed Department of Nomadic Development. The power is out in Thunder Bay and its surrounding region today after unseasonably peaceful weather left their lightning rod uncharged for over a week. And a record number of viewers tuned in to watch the finale of Power Trip: Showdown of the Power Trippers. The banks and corporations won by buying out their opponents after a close call when the drug lords stole weapons from the scientists.
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Nothing for Hookers

(With East European accent: the word hooker is pronounced hoooo-ker.) Here she comes, chewing gum Flashing her goodies at me How can I even try? All I got's two-seventy Plenty of dough to waste on guitars Maybe a gourmet coffee Then when its spent on the rent Nothing for hookers on me Took my prize, told their lies Dirtier they could not be And in fact I made no pact With Josef Jugashvelli They had a blast that didn't last Left me in grim poverty When there's a chick doing tricks Less than three dollars on me One day come refund Saving up my GST's Gonna end that weekend In a state of ectasy Gonna play cards in the dark Going to peak at her hand And when she folds she will know This customer was a man (solo)
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Damn the Doritos

(New Mexico, July 16 1945. A group of scientists speculate on the potential result of the first atomic blast.) Oppenheimer: Doctor Zeus, would you be so kind as to share your thoughts with us as to what we may expect here this morning? Zeus: (Greek accent) I think that it will initiate a subatomic chain reaction which will rip a hole in the fabric of the space-time continuum and send us all back to the Stone Age - literally. Oppenheimer: Interesting. Doctor Finklestein, have you any such concerns? Finklestein: (Yiddish accent) No. I think that it will only splinter our DNA, altering the course of human evolution so that our descendants will be born with gills instead of lungs. Oppenheimer: Yes? Doctor Hoffman, you have your hand up? Hoffman: (German accent) I think that it will set fire to the atmosphere, leaving us with no air to breathe and stripped naked against falling asteroids and the horrible radiation of the sun. Oppenheimer: Noted. We'll have a fire truck standing by. Gentlemen, there's only one way we're going to know what happens when we detonate this device... (The next day.) General: Boys, I hear that you only used a couple pounds of uranium for this bomb. Now that you know it works, let's put a whole ton of uranium all in one big bomb. Oppenheimer: General, that much uranium would blow us up along with the enemy. General: I figured. Let's just hope we never have to use it.
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History's Mysteries: Nadia Stalin

Host: Good evening. And welcome to History's Mysteries. On the morning of November 9th, 1932, Josef Stalin's second wife was found dead at home with a gunshot wound to her heart. Stalin is reported to have physically abused her and to have often humiliated her in front of his cronies. On the night of her death she wrote him a letter which was full of political and personal reproaches. Did Nadia Stalin kill herself, according to the official account of the day? Or was she murdered by her brutal husband? We have dramatized the key events of the last week of her life to help us answer this intriguing question. Let's take a look. (November 1932. A cigar smoking Stalin meets with his deputies to discuss national affairs. Nadia stands modestly in the perimeter.) Deputy: Comrade Chairman, we need to frighten the peasants again. Stalin: Why don't we put Nadia's face on a giant billboard? It will stop them in their tracks! (Raucous laughter from Stalin. His deputies laugh in nervous support.) Deputy: Good one, Comrade Chairman. But seriously, we must crush them now or they may revolt. Stalin: You want to crush them? Why don't we get Nadia to sit on them with her big fat kaboose? (More laughter from Stalin and forced laughter from his deputies.) Deputy: Ahem! On another matter, the fire from the village we burned has spread to the surrounding forest. Stalin: I'll show you how to put out a fire. Nadia, darling, come here. Nadia: (Approaching) Yes? How may I be of service to the Comrade Chairman? Stalin: Stand right there and don't move. (She complies. Stalin backhands her hard across the cheek. She sobs bitterly but remains frozen.) Now tilt your head forward. (Stalin catches a tear with the lit end of his cigar, extinguishing the cigar with a hiss.) There, you see? All we need is Nadia! (Another round of laughs. Exit a distraught Nadia.) Hey, come back here! I have not given you leave to leave! (A few days later at Stalin's house, Stalin stands at the door while Nadia sits at a desk and writes a letter.) Stalin: Come, Nadia. It's time for another conference. Nadia: I'm staying home. Stalin: No, I forbid it. This is important state business. The people are counting on you. Nadia: (Tearing out the top page of her notebook, she gets up to give it to him.) Everything I need to tell you is in this note. Nadia's Voice: (In Stalin's head as he reads) Dear Josef, I hate you. (His smile disappears.) You are a big bully! (His eyes bulge.) Why don't you go get a job in the New York Stock Exchange? (He gasps.) Your mustache is too bushy! (His face turns red with rage.) Oh yes, one more thing, Svetlana is Trotsky's daughter! (He draws his revolver and shoots Nadia.) (Return to the host's chair.) Host: Well, there you have it. Nadia Stalin's death was a suicide because of the certain death she faced by telling those things to Josef Stalin. And that's it for this installment of History's Mysteries. Good night.
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Meddlin' Mom

(A middle class home. A woman answers a knock on the door.) Visitor: Hi, Mrs Fidgewick. Is Stacy home? Mrs Fidgewick: Not at the moment. Are you the girl who beat her out for the lead in the play? Visitor: Your daughter is very talented, but the teacher thought I looked more tragic. I came to give her this peace offering. (She hands over a wrapped present.) Mrs Fidgewick: You didn't need to do that. Stacy's glad you won the part. Now she can spend more time with Duncan. Visitor: Duncan Bradley? Mrs Fidgewick: Yes, that's the boy. He thinks high school theater is square. (A few hours later, an excited Stacy returns home.) Stacy: Mom! I got the part! Stephanie dropped out! Mrs Fidgewick: I knew you could do it! (They hug.) Voice: She was the kind of mom who wanted her daughter to have everything... (A malt shop. Stacy's fortyish mom is disguised as a teen.) Teen Girl #1: Who are you voting for? Teen Girl #2: I'm voting for Allison. Teen Girl #3: So am I. Who are you voting for? Mrs Fidgewick: I'm voting for Stacy. Teen Girl #1: Stacy? But she wants to bring back corporal punishment in schools! Mrs Fidgewick: I know, but Allison tortures helpless animals. Teen Girl #1: (After shuddering) No way! Mrs Fidgewick: Wa-ay. They caught her in the park with a whole bag of cat's tails. Teens: Wow! Voice: The meddling never stops on Meddlin' Mom, tonight - only on this channel.
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The 'Put It Back!' Campaign

Hello, I'm Stephanie. For a long time my name was Stephen and I worked as a bounty hunter. Then I finally decided to take the step of transforming into a woman. Now I work as a chorus girl. Ten percent of initially male patients who undergo gender changing surgery have second thoughts about it afterwards. I thought I made the right move. I always knew I wanted to be a woman, but I had to become a woman before I knew exactly the kind of woman I wanted to be: a lesbian. As soon as I awoke from the anesthesia, I began to feel something I never felt before - a kind of envy. I needed to relieve my bladder and I couldn't use a catheter under the blankets like the male patient in the bed next to me. My doctor says that there is no turning back. I hope he is wrong. Advances are being made in the field of penis restoration every day. At the moment great results have been achieved with the tissue of snakes. But if we are to secure this important option for sexually confused persons like myself, we're going to need donors. Are you a man? Do you feel like your reproductive organ is going to waste between your legs? Maybe it is. Maybe it needs to be between my legs - uh - pointing outwards. All it takes is your signature on a consent form. If you don't have a penis, you can still help. Donate to the 'Put It Back!' campaign at the toll free number below. Because when it's somewhere it's not supposed to be, it's time to put it back.
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To Save Man

(A restaurant. After a sumptuous meal, a Cannabid asks the waiter the summon the chef.) Chef: Did you enjoy the meal? Cannabid: I certainly did. I had no idea cows were so delicious. And the way you flavour your meat with spices is truly ingenious. Chef: And one cow can provide the same meat as five adult humans. Cannabid: Yes, we must have all your cows. Chef: All of them? Cannabid: I only hope it's enough. And we will require all of your other food as well - especially your Jello chocolate puddings. Chef: All of it? But what will we eat? Cannabid: Don't worry about that. You always have each other.
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© 2007, 2013. Scripts by David Skerkowski. All rights reserved.

Nurse Sheridan

(A hospital room. A patient lies in pain. Enter a Nurse Sheridan with a shot.) Sheridan: Are you Fred Carpenter? Patient: Yes. Is that my shot? Sheridan: How did you get hurt? Patient: Motorcycle accident. Can I have my shot? Sheridan: Really? How long did you wait for help? Patient: I don't know. A couple hours. Can I- Sheridan: You mean you lay on the road bleeding for hours! You poor thing! Patient: Can I get my shot now? Sheridan: Oh! The shot! Of course. (She administers the drug and he sighs with relief.) Patient: You know, if you really find me that impressive, we can... Nurse? Where did you go? Voice: Natalie Sheridan couldn't help falling for a man in pain. Perhaps it was her maternal instinct. Perhaps it was sadism... (Backstage at a circus. An animal trainer has his back to a tiger as he argues with Sheridan through the bars.) Trainer: You can't leave me now! I'm just getting back on my feet! Sheridan: I'm sorry, I've made up my mind. (With a roar the tiger suddenly pounces on the trainer and mauls him.) On the other hand, I don't want to be rash. Voice: As a nurse she was only too happy to comfort the boys in the intensive care ward. (Nurse Sheridan stands at a patient's bedside.) Sheridan: Tell me more about the accident. How many stitches did you say you needed again? Patient: Four hundred and thirty-nine. But my buddy needed over five hundred. Sheridan: Which bed is he in? Patient: (Pointing) The one on the end. Hey, where are you going? Voice: Susan Harrison is... (climbing onto a bed to straddle a patient in a head-to-toe body cast) ...Nurse Sheridan.
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© 2007, 2013. Scripts by David Skerkowski. All rights reserved.

Money Tips: How to Beat Inflation

(A fiftyish man stands smiling in front of an old family portrait.) Today on Money Tips we're going to talk about inflation. Inflation is what happens when everyone quits their job and goes on unemployment insurance. It's also been known to happen during worker's strikes. As long as workers are going to have this attitude, we'll always have inflation, so you might as well start planning for it. My granddaddy, God rest his soul, taught me about inflation way back in 1970. He said the only way to protect yourself is to stash money and he gave me eighty dollars to get started. Back then that was enough to buy a brand new ten-speed. By now with inflation it's probably worth maybe five ten-speeds. I tucked it behind my family portrait and held on to it through OPEC, mass layoffs, downsizing, and stock market crashes with government bailouts. And if I ever need that money (taking the portrait and pulling out the back) I have it right here. (The money is missing) Hey!
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© 2007, 2013. Scripts by David Skerkowski. All rights reserved.