Our defenders are by no means ordinary citizens. They are frequently
confronted with situations the likes of which you and I could never
adequately care about. But living this sort of dangerous lifestyle
does not come without its licensing requirements. That's what brings
our good guys to the Department of Unordinary Justice Personnel and
Taxidermy.
|
| |
| Sir Jogs A Lot: |
Here in these majestic halls of hero enlistment, my pores just ooze
with civic pride. By way of standing in these lines and completing
those forms in triplicate, each one of us receives special permission
from the people of Cattlebit County to apprehend the legal limit of
ne'er-do-wells for another year. I could almost weep.
|
| Uber Eskimo: |
Could you bring it down a notch, Blogs A Lot? You're starting to
smell like Tang again. Couldn't we just mail these registrations in,
or fill them out online? I've gotta shake loose and set up the Tivo
to tape Family Feud tonight.
|
| Utility Infielder: |
Oh no way - I would not try to cut the corners on this mama. I heard one
time at the Worthy Burger that that's how Tommy Tenhands lost his license.
You know, those costumes were the only things that fit his torso very
well, and now they're just useless.
|
| Bionic Jemimah: |
Now you stop that, telling tales that ought not be spread about. These
forms are difficult enough as is, without you all disturbing me so.
I've never seen the likes of some of these questions. Do we have to
fill in this blank for Representative Color? I don't believe I have
such a color.
|
| Hillbilly Robot: |
Well of course you do, Jemimah. It's as plain as the gun rack on my
back. You're the one what wears brown in these parts.
|
| Utility Infielder: |
As brown as a catcher's mitt. Assuming that said mitt is made
of brown leather, word up.
|
| Sir Jogs A Lot: |
When I imagine us all at war against trouble makers, I call you the
Brown Bringer of Wholesome Goodness. I usually just cut it down to
B.B.W.G., though. It saves space when I'm journaling.
|
| Bionic Jemimah: |
Well bless the day before us! What a wondrous revelation, brought to
me by my very own host of angels. What in all the world would I ever
do without you precious folks?
|
| Uber Eskimo: |
Yeah, the whole brown discovery is the highlight of my day, as well.
But if there's gonna be a big cheek-pinching session right now, could
you put me down for zero? I'm not up for any special moments while we're
being herded through this stockyard.
|
| Hillbilly Robot: |
Would y'all simmer down, pretty please? My systems ain't calibrated
to tolerate such carrying on. If y'all raise a ruckus and they turn the
hose on us, I'll be the one sent to the scrap pile. Just remember that
when this old robot ain't around no more to pick on.
|
| Utility Infielder: |
Oh come on now, C.O.R.N., you can't think like that. You can't have
"no" in your heart, or else your dreams will never touch the sky.
Haven't you ever heard of the little tin man who could? How he wished
he had a heart, so he could get up that hill, and he never would stop,
but kept on keeping on. You've got to be that little tin man who
could. You've got to say, "I think I can, chug-chug. I think I can,
chug-chug."
|
| Uber Eskimo: |
You know, if you keep telling this mechanical hillbilly to say, "I think
I can chug chug", he's just gonna hit the whiskey again. It's like you're
taking a chainsaw to the rungs in his twelve-step ladder, Mendoza.
|
| Lady at Window: |
Number 238. Last call for number 238, The Freelancer.
|
| Sir Jogs A Lot: |
The Freelancer, eh?
It appears that the least trusty of all trusty companions is in absentia.
Was it not made clear in the logorrhea of our 3-month contract that
his attainment of a license in this county was a requisite responsibility?
|
| Hillbilly Robot: |
The bottle is dead to me, and I to it! Confound all ye naysayers!
|
| Uber Eskimo: |
Did I say "nay"? Does anybody still say "nay" anymore, for that
matter? And when you say "nay", is the "verily" implied?
|
| Sir Jogs A Lot: |
Nay verily, indeed, Uber Eskimo. Nay verily, indeed. The fact that
the "verily" is too often implied in our hurry-up-and-wait corporate
lifestyles is a chilling commentary on today's society. The innocent
and beleaguered citizens of this world can only hope and pray, and
write strongly worded letters to their local newspapers, declaring their
collective need for a hero. We who are gathered here at the Department
of Unordinary Justice Personnel and Taxidermy have heard their cry,
excepting those few in that line over there who are skilled in
the art of stuffing and mounting animals. But the queue on this side
of the room is replete with listeners responding to the shrill voice,
"I need a hero! I'm holding out for a hero til the morning light!"
Can you hear it, fellow Vowels? Can you hear it?
|
| Utility Infielder: |
That's the Long-Distance Dedication that Casey Kasem plays for me in
my dreams, Sir Jogs A Lot. And I've got the Bonnie Tyler collectible
plate on my mantle to prove it.
|
