Saturday, June 2, 2007

Mission Six

Mr. Bennet shows off his comedic side....

"No, don't worry. You won't have to perform. You can be the director."

"Oh, good," I replied.

Moments later, I found myself sitting in the middle of the stage with that synthetic liar on my leg.

"Boo!" Some punk yelled out. "No more ventriloquist acts!"

I agreed with him, except for the boo part. My idea was to do an origami opera. But Lin claims to have stage experience, so Henchman and I had to do whatever she wanted.

"Hello," I said nervously. The spotlight was magnified through my glasses, nearly blinding me. "I'm....uh..."

"Ugly?" The synthetic pseudo-dummy asked.

"Mr. Bennet, but you can call me Noah." I finished.

"Noah? Where's your giraffes?"

"They," crap...I forgot my line. "..did something,"

The audience broke out in insane laughter.

"So," Dum-Lin said, "You know what's worse than finding a worm in your apple?"

"Finding...half," Half what? A shoe? A dime! Wait, no."...a worm in it?"

"The Holocaust." The audience laughed and moaned and she continued, "You ever wonder why celebrity sex photos weren't a problem in Ben Franklin's days?" I was impressed by her dummy skills.

"Hmmm..." I feigned bewilderment. "Why is that?"

"The men finished before the cameras could!"

All of a sudden, I was nearly impaled in the leg by something. What the heck is that? Some object was digging into my thigh. I tried shifting positions.

"Guess what?"

Ouch! I tried moving Lin to my other leg, but couldn't lift her. "Uh, what?" I said, trying to stay committed to the act.

"Kittens don't make good volleyballs."

The microphone transmitter! Gah! I kicked my knee up in an attempt to bounce her massive synthoid body over a bit, but instead she fell off onto the stage with a loud thud.

The act was clearly ruined! But I had a back up plan. I ran off stage and into my dressing room, which was more a cubicle in the alley than it was a room. There on the vanity was my trusty comedy notebook. I picked it up and looked at the first page.

Fountains of the Abyss

It was a cold night.



No! It was my novel, not my comedy. Where was my comedy notebook?

I looked everywhere. I looked in the trash, under lighting technicians, over tall stuff. I even checked the Denny's down the road. Nothing, but I did order a Grand Slam!

I ran back to the theatre and looked harder than ever. But then I felt my Grand Slam rounding third base. Immediately I made my way into the restroom.

A knock at the door came. It was Henchman. "Hey, we're about to go on."

"Just a minute!" I hollered back. And there it was! Sitting atop the toilet paper holder was my notebook. I opened it. My brilliantly written comedy insult bit of the other team was there, begging to go on stage. But unfortunately, my digestive system had other plans.

Eventually, I made it out of the restroom alive and ran to the stage. The audience was applauding loudly and Lin, Henchman and some retard were walking off stage. I ran up and said, "And now, a little bit about the opposing team..."

Before I could begin, Lin ran up and grabbed me. "No stand-up!" she said and drug me off stage.

"Jon hates stand-up," Henchman said.

Crap! I almost secured our victory with my act. Here's what I didn't get to perform because of my teammates and Denny's:

Pokemybootie

What do Jedi, politicians and paraplegics have in common? Apparently, bad breath.

I used to think the only good politician was a dead one, until I met Nathan Petrelli. First I thought he was a Democrat because of all the sex. Then it seemed like he was selfish enough to be a Republican. But now that he's dead, I realize he's actually Green Party, since he'll never win the White House. He's self-absorbed and incompetent enough to run a school for mutants.

And if there's one thing creepier than the smiling ghost of a dead politician, it's Jedi paparazzi. Why doesn't Kriss have a real job? I mean, she's a friggin' Jedi. Surely that has to stand for something on a resume. "Sure we're an order devoted to protecting the Republic and upholding the highest of virtues....but I'd rather just take pictures." She's clearly lost focus of what it means to be a Jedi. Maybe her aim is just so terrible, she needs a wide lens to hit anything. And guys, don't waste your time. She's a cat person. She can develop film, but not relationships.

Speaking of relationships, do you ever wish your mutant child could have a father figure in his life? How about a creepy, older gent confined to a wheelchair? There's nothing like hands-on learning.

Learning's a good thing after all. Sure, there's the drawbacks of mutant pedophilia. But knowledge can be a wondrous thing. Something so-called Jedi Knight Godfrey Zebulon will never have. There's more wisdom to be found in used toilet paper than in his sorry excuse for a brain. And I've seen better lightsaber form from a mayonnaise jar. Instead of a padawan, he was a padded one. He had to wear full body padding just to keep the other younglings from killing him in battle. I guess when your Mommy and Daddy are royalty, skill isn't a prerequisite to knighthood.


It's gold, baby!

8 comments:

Jon the Intergalactic Gladiator said...

Who says I don't like stand up?

I love good stand up.

As far as your routine, that was a good effort, Mr. Bennet.

Synth-Lin said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Synth-Lin said...

"massive synthoid body"

Are you saying I'm FAT! Noah?

Love you all

I am not fat.

Lin

Simon said...

My advice? Don't quit your job at the paper plant. Not to be rude but your stand up made me want to throw up.

Kon-El said...

Wow bein' eliminated was the second best thing to happen to me.

Dark Jedi Kriss said...

DUDE! I never!

Man that was cold.

Ouch.

I'm sticking my boyfriend on you... you know...Buckethead?

Summer Dawn O'Ciardha said...

Interesting, you are very quick to judge. One of the best ways to be funny is to make fun of yourself.

When I am around enemies who know I am a necromancer, they automatically assume, I chose to be a necromancer and I like the dead. It never ceases to amaze me when a demon calls me names to get me mad, and I make a crack like, "Yeah the last midget I raised was a little stiff."

As far as your post is concerned, it's all about timing, and your timing was late, it was done before. The stand-up routine was possibly redeeming.

I didn't notice any errors.

Overall, the post was okay-to-good.

Ghost of Congressman Nathan Petrelli said...

I would invite you to step out back after those comments, but with comments like, "massive synthoid body" you are likely to be murdered by your own team.

Oh, and your wife liked the smell of my breath when I kissed her goodbye this morning. lol lol lol lol--Just kidding. Sort of...