BartBlog

June 28, 2009

Ye Olde Scribe’s Spy Fly on the Wall Update

Filed under: Commentary — Ye Olde Scribe @ 12:53 pm

Although kept secret, Scribe’s spy fly on the wall recorded the results of an investigation…

“Wait, ‘assistant’ means you ‘assist.’ Why don’t you have his clothes off yet?”

“I… just… couldn’t…”

“Big fan?”

“No, I just found him CREEPY.”

“Yeah, I don’t find this autopsy much of a THRILLER, either.”

Silence. Not even the birds found it funny.

“OK, let’s get his pants off. Damn they’re tight. Oh, now that explains THAT. Now we know. White? Or Black? Definitely BLACK. But look at the size of that schlong. Guess Madeline Kahn had it wrong. In this case: it’s NOT ‘twue.’ Hmmm… some kind of problem here. Big bump. I’ll do an incision and… ‘press here?’ Some kind of device. OK, I’ll bite. Hmmm… bad choice of words. I’ll press the little button and…

Beat it!
Beat it…

“Oh, it’s a music playback device for when he was enjoying himself. Wonder if I press it again…”

Just a little bit of you
Will surely keep the Doctor Away
Eeny weeny teeny bit of your love

“‘Eeny weeny…’ got that right… OK, let’s get the shirt off. DAMN. This guy’s Black on the bottom… literally… and white on top; except the head: just a bit more Black… Speak of ‘oreo.’ And look at the tattoos! Satanic, every religion… even the weirdest ones. Wait, do you hear another song?”

Love is as welcome
As a sunny, sunny day
No grown up thoughts
To lead our hearts astray…

“Seems to be coming from in here. Well, time to get the old trusty saw out. Hmm, ain’t nothing to it. Like cutting through crepe paper. Or should I pronounce that ‘creep?’ OK, give me the Smokey Bones brand rib spreader.”

Take like so easy, nice and easy
Like a child so GAY and so carefree…

“There’s that song again…”

“We’re so close
I can almost taste it…”

“Hmmm, it changed tunes… do you hear a cry for help? OH, MYFRICKINGODDAM… there’s a little boy in there! And he’s alive. How long have you been in there? How did you survive? ‘They’ helped you? What did you eat? ‘They fed you,’ what does that mean? How did you breathe? ‘They’ gave you mouth to mouth? ‘They’ who? ‘Not who… what?’”

“Ben, the two of us need look no more
We both found what we’ve been looking for…”

“No. NO! Oh, God no. Help…”

Rats pour out of the corpse, devouring everything.

“They’re out to get you. There’s demons closing in on every side…”

“Somebody shut that damn music offfffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff………………………”

End of recording, rats crunching on bones.

Tune in next week for Dr. Frankenstein Has an Itch to Reanimate Jacko or Gotta Jacko Jocko Itch?

Gotta an tch ya need to scratch?

1 Comment

  1. And we have a winner!

    Comment by bittershaman2 — June 28, 2009 @ 5:36 pm

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