1979 Joe's Garage Acts I, II & III

1979 Joe's Garage Acts I, II & III
"The Central Scrutinizer"
[Act I]
[PRELUDE]
Desperate nerds in high offices all over the world have been known to
enact the most disgusting pieces of legislation in order to win votes
(or, in places where they don't get to vote, to control unwanted forms of
mass behavior).
Environmental laws were not passed to protect our air and water...
they were passed to get votes. Seasonal anti-smut campaigns are not
conducted to rid our communities of moral rot...they are conducted to give
an aura of saintliness to the office-seekers who demand them. If a few
key phrases are thrown into any speech (as the expert advisors explain to
these various heads of state) votes will roll in, bucks will roll in, and, most
importantly, power will be maintained by the groovy guy (or gal) who gets
the most media coverage for his sleaze. Naturally, his friends in various
businesses will do okay too.
All governments perpetuate themselves through the daily commission of act
which a rational person might find to be stupid or dangerous (or both). Naturally,
our government is no exception... for instance, if the President (any one of them)
went on TV and sat there with the flag in the background (or maybe a rustic
scene on a little backdrop, plus the flag) and stared sincerely into the camera
and told everybody that all energy problems and all inflationary problems had been
traced to and could be solved by the abolition of MUSIC, chances are that most
people would believe him and think that the illegalization of this obnoxious form of
noise pollution would be a small price to pay for the chance to buy gas like the good
ol' days. No way? Never happen? Records are made out of oil. All those big rock
shows go from town to town in fuel-gobbling 45 foot trucks...and when they get there,
they use up enormous amounts of electrical energy with their lights, their amplifiers,
their PA systems...their smoke machines. And all those synthesizers...look at all
the plastic they got in 'em...and the guitar picks...you name it...
JOE'S GARAGE is a stupid story about how the government is going to try to do away
with music (a prime cause of unwanted mass behavior! It's sort of like a really cheap
kind of high school play...the way it might have been done 20 years ago, with all the sets
made out of cardboard boxes and poster paint. It's also like those lectures that local
narks used to give (where they show you a display of all the different ways you can get
wasted, with the pills leading to the weed leading to the needle, etc., etc.).
If the plot of the story seems just a little bit preposterous, and if the idea of The Central
Scrutinizer enforcing laws that haven't been passed yet makes you giggle, just be glad
you don't live in one of the cheerful little countries where, at this very moment, music is
either severely restricted...or, as it is in Iran, totally illegal.
[SCENE ONE]
[ENTRANCE OF THE CENTRAL SCRUTINIZER]
Sometimes when you're not looking he just sneaks up on you. He looks like a cheap
sort of flying saucer about five feet across with a snout-like megaphone apparatus in
the front with two big eyes mounted like Appletons with miniature motorized frowning
chrome eyebrows over them. Along the side of his disc-like body are several sets of
stupid looking headers and exhaust hoses which apparently propel him and punctuate
his dialogue with horrible smelling smoke rings. In the middle of his head we can see
an airport wind sock and constantly twirling anemometer. The bottom of him has a landing
light and three spoked wheels. In spite of all this, it is obvious that the way he really gets
around is by being dangled from place to place by a union guy with a dark green shirt up
in the roof who is eating a sandwich (pieces of which drop off every once in a while
and lodge themselves near the hole where they put the oil in that makes the cheap smoke).
He hovers into view and speaks to us thusly...
[CENTRAL SCRUTINIZER:]
This is the CENTRAL SCRUTINIZER...it is my responsibility to enforce all the laws
that haven't been passed yet. It is also my responsibility to alert each and every one of
you to the potential consequences of various ordinary everyday activities you might be
performing which could eventually lead to The Death Penalty (or affect your parents'
credit rating). Our criminal institutions are full of little creeps like you who do wrong things...
and many of them were driven to these crimes by a horrible force called MUSIC! Our studies
have shown that this horrible force is so dangerous to society at large that laws are being
drawn up at this very moment to stop it forever! Cruel and inhuman punishments are
being carefully described in tiny paragraphs so they won't conflict with the Constitution
(which, itself, is being modified in order to accommodate THE FUTURE).
I bring you now a special presentation to show what can happen to you if you choose
a career in MUSIC . . . The WHITE ZONE is for loading and unloading only. . . if you
have to load or unload, go to the WHITE ZONE... you 'll love it... it 's a way of life . . .
This is the CENTRAL SCRUTINIZER...The WHITE ZONE is for loading and unloading
only... [etc.]
"Joe's Garage"
[Act I]
[SCENE TWO]
[JOE'S GARAGE]
A boring old garage in a residential area with a teenage
band rehearsing in it. JOE (the main character in the CENTRAL
SCRUTINIZER'S Special Presentation) sings to us of the trials
and tribulations of garage- band husbandry.
[JOE:]
It wasn't very large
There was just enough room to cram the drums
In the corner over by the Dodge
It was a fifty-four
With a mashed up door
And
"Catholic Girls"
[Act I]
[SCENE THREE]
[CATHOLIC GIRLS]
A festive CYO party with crepe paper streamers, contestants
for the broom dance, the , baked goods, & FATHER RILEY
making sure the lights don't go down too low...
[FATHER RILEY AND VARIOUS PARTY GOERS:]
Catholic Girls
With a tiny little mustache
Catholic Girls
Do you know how they go?
Catholic Girls
In the Rectory Basement
Father Riley's a fairy
But it don't bother Mary
Catholic Girls
At the CYO
Catholic Girls
Do you know how they go?
Catholic Girls
There can be no replacement
How do they go, after the show?
[JOE:]
All the way
That's the way they go
Every day
And none of their mamas ever seem to know
Hip-Hip-Hooray
For all the class they show
There's nothing like a Catholic Girl
At the CYO When they learn to blow...
[FATHER RILEY:] They're learning to blow
All the Catholic Boys!
[MARY:]
Warren Cuccurullo...
[FATHER RILEY:] Catholic Boys!
[MARY:]
Kinda young, kinda WOW!
[FATHER RILEY:]
Catholic Boys!
[MARY:]
Vinnie Colaiuta...
[CHORUS:]
Where are they now?
Did they all take The Vow?
[FATHER RILEY:] Catholic Girls!
[WARREN:]
Carmenita Scarfone!
[FATHER RILEY:] Catholic Girls!
[OFFICER BUTZIS:]
Hey! She gave me VD!
[FATHER RILEY:]
Catholic Girls!
[WARREN:]
Toni Carbone!
[CHORUS:]
With a tongue like a cow
She could make you go WOW!
[JOE:]
VD vowdy vootie
Right away
That's the way they go
Every day
Whenever their mamas take them to a show
Matinee
Pass the popcorn please
There's nothing like a Catholic Girl
With her hand in the box
When she's on her knees
[LARRY:]
She was on her knees,
My little Catholic Girl
[CHORUS:]
In a little white dress
Catholic Girls
They never confess
Catholic Girls
I got one for a cousin
I love how they go
So send me a dozen
Catholic Girls
OOOOOOH!
Catholic Girls
OOOOOOH! [etc.]
[CENTRAL SCRUTINIZER:]
This is the CENTRAL SCRUTINIZER...
Joe had a girl friend named Mary.
She used to go to the church club every week.
They'd meet each other there
Hold hands
And think
Pure Thoughts
But one night, at the
Social Club meeting Mary didn't show up...
She was sucking cock backstage at The Armory
In order to get a pass To see some big rock group for free...
"Crew Slut"
[Act I]
But one night, at the
Social Club meeting Mary didn't show up...
She was sucking cock backstage at The Armory
In order to get a pass To see some big rock group for free...
[SCENE FOUR]
[CREW SLUT]
Backstage at the local Armory, MARY, in her little white dress,
is wiping the remnants of her performance off the side of her mouth
as LARRY (the guy from the garage who quit the band in order to make
an honest living) zips up the front of his stinking boiler suit and sings
to the same teen-age girls who were stomping and clapping a little while ago,
as they kneel with their little pink mouths open near the crew bus,
hoping to save the price of admission by performing acts of Hooverism on
the jolly lads who set up the P. A. System.
[LARRY:]
Hey Hey Hey all you girls in these
Industrial towns
I know you're prob'ly gettin' tired
Of all the local clowns
They never give you no respect
They never treat you nice
So perhaps you oughta try
A little friendly advice
And be a CREW SLUT
Hey, you 'll love it
Be a CREW SLUT
It's a way of life
Be a CREW SLUT
See the world
Don't make a fuss, just get on the bus
CREW SLUT
Add water, makes its own sauce
Be a CREW SLUT
So you don't forget, call before midnite tonite
The boys in the crew
Are fust waiting for you
You never get to move around
You never go nowhere
I know yer prob'ly gettin' tired
Of all the guys out there
You always wondered what it's like
To go from place to place
So, darlin', take a little ride
On the mixer's face
Be a CREW SLUT
Just follow the magic footprints
Be a CREW SLUT
Hey, you'll love it!
Be a CREW SLUT
It's a way of life
I ain't gonna squash it
And you don't need to wash it!
CREW SLUT
Hey, I'll buy you a pizza
CREW SLUT
Of course I'll introduce you to Warren
The boys in the crew
Are only waiting for you
At this point, the road crew, as all road crews must from time to time,
borrow some of the big rock group's equipment and have a blues jam
session, indicating to the kneeling maidens that they are endowed with
a great deal of raw talent, as well as massive meat. Obviously impressed
with LARRY'S ability to suck so hard on his harmonica that screeching
little noises come out of it, MARY kneels again and reaches upward in
gestures of supplication, listening intently as LARRY continues to sing...
[LARRY:]
Well you been to Alabama, girl,
'N' Georgia too
'N' all the boys in thecrew
Is bein' good to you
I know yer sayin' to yourself
'This is the way to go
'Cause when you need a little extra
They will give you some mo'
'Cause you're the CREW SLUT
[MARY:]
I'm into leather...
[LARRY:]
That s good! A lot of the boys in the crew
Love leather...
[MARY:]
And rubber...
[LARRY:]
Yeh, they like rubber too... shrink- tubing
With a hair dryer...
[ROAD CREW CHORUS:]
Trade your spot on the bench
For a guy with a wrench
[MARY:]
Ha ha ha...
[LARRY:]
You like that, huh?
I told you you'd love it...
It's a way of life!
[ROAD CREW CHORUS:]
The guys in the crew
Have got a present for you!
[MARY:]
A present for me?
[LARRY:] We got a present for you!
[MARY:]
Whaddya got?
Whaddya gonna give me?
[LARRY:]
It looks just like a TeleFunken U-47
You'll love it...
[MARY:] With leather?
[CENTRAL SCRUTINIZER:]
Eherrr, eh eh...This is the CENTRAL SCRUTINIZER again...
And so MARY was enticed away from Joe
By an evil barbarian with a wrench in his pocket
Lured into a life of SLEAZERY
With the entire road crew of some Famous Rock Group (I don't know whether it
was Toad-O... I don't know... I'll check it out)
Again we see MUSIC
Causing BIG TROUBLE!
"Fembot In A Wet T-Shirt"
[Act I]
[SCENE FIVE]
[THE WET T-SHIRT CONTEST]
After a few weeks on the bus, being porked by
Toad-O's road crew, and being too exhausted to do
their laundry on a regular basis, MARY is dumped in Miami.
With no money (and no other famous rock groups due into
the area for at least three weeks), she tries to pick up a few bucks
by entering the Wet T-Shirt contest at The Brasserie...
[IKE:]
Looks to me like something funny
Is going on around here
People laughin' 'n' dancin' 'n' payin'
Entirely too much for their beer
And they all think they are
Clean outa-site
And they're ready to party
"Cause the sign outside says it's WET T-SHIRT NITE
'N' they all crave some Hot delight
Well the girls are excited
Because in a minute
They're gonna get wet
'N' the boys are delighted
Because all the titties
Will get 'em upset
'N' they all think they are Reety-awright
'N' they're ready to boogie
'Cause the sign outside says it's WET T-SHIRT NITE
'N' they all crave some Pink delight
When the water gets on'em
Their ninnies get rigid
'N' look pretty bold
It's a common reaction
That makes an attraction
Whenever it's cold
'N'all of the fellas
They wish they could bite
On the cute little nuggets
The local girls are showin' off tonite
You know I think it serves 'em right
You know I think it serves 'em right
You know I think it serves 'em right
You know I think it serves 'em right
And it's WET T-SHIRT TIME AGAIN
I know you want someone to show you some tit!
BIG ONES! WET ONES! BIG WET ONES!
At this point, FATHER RILEY (who had been recently de-frocked
for not meeting his quota, and has grown his hair out and
bought a groovy sport coot and moved to Miami and changed
his name to BUDDY JONES) steps onto the crowded bandstand
in his exciting new role as a WET T-SHIRT CONTEST EMCEE...
[BUDDY JONES:]
Ah, thanks, IKE...
Yes, it's WET T-SHIRT TIME AGAIN
Here at The Brasserie... Home of THE TITS... huh huh...
And it's the charming Mary from Canoga Park
Up next in her bid for the semi-finals...
Hi,Mary...howya doin?
Having been fucked senseless by the boys in the crew, MARY does
not recognize the former religious personage from her nights in the
rectory basement during which she acquired her basic manual skills
"On The Bus"
[Act I]
[SCENE SIX]
[TOAD-O LINE]
Whereupon the house combo at the Brasserie drifts into
a modified version of one of Toad-O's big hit numbers.
BUDDY JONES stares longingly at the little nozzles
pooching out of MARY'S moistened upper clothing,
but it's too late...WARREN, one of the other guys from
Joe's Garage Band has already recognized her
(he's now one of the foremost disco-fusion rhythm guitar
players on theWetT-Shirt Circuit, currently providing
exciting strummery here in Miami), and is in the process
of getting the details of her life on the bus with LARRY
and the other jolly road crew lads. He eventually sends
JOE a letter with this infor-mation in it...
[CENTRAL SCRUTINIZER:]
This is the CENTRAL SCRUTINIZER... Meanwhile,
Joe hears about Mary's naughty exploits. He falls in with
a fast crowd and gets seduced by a girl who works at
the Jack-In-The-Box, named Lucille, who gives him
an unpronounceable disease...
"Why Does It Hurt When I Pee?"
[Act I]
[SCENE SEVEN]
[WHY DOES IT HURT WHEN I PEE?]
Shortly after his liaison with the taco stand lady,
JOE makes a horrible discovery. . .
[JOE:]
Why does it hurt when I pee?
Why does it hurt when I pee?
I don't want no doctor
To stick no needle in me
Why does it hurt when I pee?
I got it from the toilet seat
I got it from the toilet seat
It jumped right up
'N' grabbed my meat
Got it from the toilet seat
My balls feel like a pair of maracas
My balls feel like a pair of maracas
Oh God I probably got the Gon-o-ka-ka-khackus!
My balls feel like a pair of maracas
Ai-ee-ai-ee-ahhhh!
Why does it
Why does it
Why does it
Why does it hurt...
when...
I Peeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee?
"Lucille Has Messed My Mind Up"
[Act I]
[SCENE EIGHT]
[LUCILLE HAS MESSED MY MIND UP]
JOE is so disoriented by his disease, he goes in the
other room and plays the title cut from an old
Jeff Simmons album, and sings along with it.
[JOE:]
Lucille
Has messed my mind up
But I still love her
Oh I still love her
Lucille
Has messed my mind up
But I still love her
Oh I still love her
Lucille
Has messed my mind up
But I still need her you know I need her
Whatcha tryna doota me Lucille?
Whatcha tryna doota me Lucille?
Whatcha tryna doota me Lucille?
You got me goin outa my mind
Lucille
Has tore my heart up
But I still love her
I really love her
Lucille
Has tore my heart up
But I still need her
You know I need her
She treats me like my heart
Is made of stone
She runs around
And leaves me home
All alone
She doesn't answer
When I call her on the phone
She messed up my mind
I'm cryin' alia the time
Lucille
Has messed my mind
up etc., etc., etc.
"Scrutinizer Postlude"
[Central Scrutinizer:]
This is the CENTRAL SCRUTINIZER... again. Hi!...It's me again,
the CENTRAL SCRUTINIZER... Joe says Lucille has messed bis mind up,
but, was it the girl or was it the music? As you can see .. .girls, music,
disease, heartbreak.. .they all go together.. Joe found out the hard way, but
his troubles were just beginning... his mind was so messed up... he could
hardly do nothin' .. .He was in aquandary ... being devoured by the swirling
cesspool of his own steaming desires.. .the guy was a wreck.. .so.. .what
does he do? For once, he does something SMART...he goes out... and
pays a lot of money to L. Ron Hoover... at the First Church of Appliantology!
SCRUTINIZER'S POSTLUDE
Eventually it was discovered
That God
Did not want us to be
All the same
This was
BAD NEWS
For the Governments of The World
As it seemed contrary
To the doctrine of
Portion Controlled Servings
Mankind must be made more uniformly
If THE FUTURE
Was going to work
Various ways were sought
To bind us all together
But, alas SAMENESS was unenforceable
It was about this time
That someone
Came up with the idea of TOTAL CRIMINALIZATION
Based on the principle that
If we were ALL crooks
We could at last be uniform
To some degree
In the eyes of THE LAW
Shrewdly our legislators calculated
That most people were
Too lazy to perform a
REAL CRIME
So new laws were manufactured
Making it possible for anyone
To violate them any time of the day or night,
And
Once we had all broken some kind of law
We'd all be in the same big happy club
Right up there with the President,
The most exalted industrialists,
And the clerical big shots
Of all your favorite religions
TOTAL CRIMINALIZATION
Was the greatest idea of its time
And was vastly popular
Except with those people
Who didn't want to be crooks or outlaws,
So, of course, they had to be TRICKED INTO IT...
Which is one of the reasons why
Music
Was eventually made
Illegal
"A Token Of My Extreme"
[Act II]
[SCENE NINE]
[A TOKEN OF MY EXTREME]
Arriving at L. Ron Hoover's modernistic office / cathedral / ware-house /
condominium complex, Joe is greeted by a pre-recorded message and
a dramatically illuminated image on a wall-sized TV screen...
[L. RON HOOVER:]
Welcome to the First Church of Appliantology!
The WHITE ZONE is for loading and unloading only!
Don't you be
Tarot-fied
It's just a token of my extreme
Don't you be
Tarot-fied
It's just a token of my extreme
Don't you never try to look behind my eyes
You don t wanna know what they have seen
Don't you never try to look behind my eyes
You don't wanna know what they have seen
[JOE: (thinking to himself)]
Some people think
That if they go too far
They'll never get hack
To where the rest of them are
I might be crazy
But there's one thing I know
You might be surprised
At what you find when ya go!
And thus, having rationalized his expedition to L. Ron's modernistic office /
cathedral / warehouse / condominium complex, JOE seeks The Answer to
his problem...
[JOE:]
Oh oh oh
Mystical Advisor
What is my problem, tell me
Can you see?
[L. RON HOOVER:]
Well, you have nothing to fear, my son!
You are a Latent Appliance Fetishist, It appears to me!
[JOE:]
That all seems very, very strange
I never craved a toaster
Or a color T. V.
[L. RON HOOVER:]
A Latent Appliance Fetishist
Is a person who refuses to admit to his or herself
That sexual gratification can only be achieved
Through the use of MACHINES... Get the picture?
[JOE:]
Are you telling me
I should come out of the closet now Mr. Ron?
[L. RON HOOVER:]
No, my son!
You must go into THE CLOSET
And you will have
A lot of fun!
That's where they all live
So if you want an
Appliance to love you
You'll have to go in there
N' get you one
[JOE:]
Well...that seems simple enough...
[L. RON HOOVER:]
Yes, but if you want a really GOOD one,
You'll have to learn a foreign language...
[JOE:]
German, for instance?
[L. RON HOOVER:]
That's right...
A lot of really cute ones come from over there!
(Fifty bucks, please)
And a cheerful group of Appliantologists dance into the room wearing
aluminum foil lab smocks, lock arms in a circle around JOE, making
sure he pays in full, all the while singing with L. RON as he delivers
nis final instructions...
[L. RON HOOVER:]
If you been
Mod-O-fied,
It's an illusion,
an yer in between
Don't you be
Tarot-fied,
It's just a lot of nothin,'
So what can it mean?
If you been
Mod-O-fied,
It's an illusion,
an yer in between
Don't you be
Tarot-fied,
It's just a lot of nothin,
So what can it mean?
[etc., etc., etc.]
JOE leaves the First Church of Appliantology and sets out to try L. RON s expensive advice
[CENTRAL SCRUTINIZER:]
This is the CENTRAL SCRUTINIZER... Joe has just learned to speak
German Now, get this, heres why he did it! He's gonna go to this club on
the other side of town, it's called THE CLOSET...
And they got these Appliances in there that really go for a guy dressed up
like a housewife who can speak German (you know what I mean)... so
Joe's learned how to speak German, he goes in this place and he sees
these little Kitchen Machineries dancing around with each other, and he
sees this one...that looks like it's a cross between an industrial vacuum
cleaner and a chrome piggy bank with marital aids stuck all over its body...
it's really exciting...and when he sees it, he BURSTS INTO SONG...
"Stick It Out"
[Act II]
[SCENE TEN]
[STICK IT OUT]
[JOE:]
Fick mich, du miserabler hurensohn
Fick mich, du miserabler hurensohn
Streck ihn aus
Streck aus deinen heifien gelockten.
Streck ihn aus
Streck aus deinen' heinen gelockten
Streck ihn aus
Streck aus deinen heiften gelockten schwanz
Ah-ee-ahee-ahhhhh!
Mach es sehr schnell
Rein und raus
Magisches Schwein
Mach es sehr schnell
Rein und raus
Magisches Schwein
Bis es spritzt, spritzt, spritzt Feuer!
Bis es spritzt, spritzt, spritzt Feuer!
Aber beklecker nicht das Sofa, Sofa!
Aber beklecker nicht das Sofa, Sofa!
Aber beklecker nicht das Sofa, Sofa!
Aber beklecker nicht das Sofa, Sofa!
Stunned by JOE's command of its native tongue, a gleaming model
XQJ-37 nuclear powered Pan-Sexual Roto-Plooker named SY BORG
(previously thought to be the son of the lady who called the Police on cut
two, side I), spindles over to JOE and says..
[SY BORG:]
Pick me...I'm clean...
I am also programmed for conversational English.
This stuns JOE, who stands there speechless for a moment. Smitten by
JOE's animal magnetism, SY continues...
[SY BORG:]
May I have this dance?
And JOE, looking sharp in his housewife costume with the napkin on
his head and the yellow chiffon apron, responds boldly by repeating the
entreaty originally delivered in Deutsch in its conversational English form,
so that his intentions regarding the Appliance will be made perfectly clear...
[JOE:]
I've got a better idea...
Fuck me, you ugly son of a bitch
You ugly son of a bitch
Fuck me, you ugly son of a bitch
Stick it out
Stick out yer hot curly weenie
Stick it out
Stick out yer hot curly weenie
Stick it out
Stick out yer hot curly weenie
Weenie.. .weenie, weenie, weenie!
Make it go fast
In and out,
Magical Pig
Make it go fast
In and out,
Magical Pig
Till it squirts, squirts, squirts, squirts
Fire
Till it squirts, squirts, squirts, squirts
Fire
Don't get no jizz upon that sofa, sofa
Don't get no jizz upon that sofa, sofa
Don't get no jizz upon that sofa, sofa
Don't get no jizz upon that sofa, sofa
Whereupon, in order to prove to JOE that he is no ordinary Appliance,
SY quotes a few lines of traditional American Love Poetry...
[SY BORG:]
What s a girl like you
Doing in a place like this?
Do you come here often?
Wail a minute...
I've got it...
You're an Italian...
What?
You're Jewish?
Lore your nails..
Yon must be a Libra....
Your place or mine?
Your place or mine?
Your place or mine?
Your place or mine.
See the chrome
Feel the chrome
Touch the chrome
Heal the chrome
See the screaming
Hot black steaming
Iridescent naugahyde python screaming
Steam Roller!
[CENTRAL SCRUTINIZER:]
This is the CENTRAL SCRUTINIZER. Joe and his date an going back
to the apartment to have a little party...
"Sy Borg"
[Act II]
[SCENE ELEVEN]
[SY BORG]
[JOE:]
Sy Borg
Gimme dat, gimme dat
Sy Borg
Gimme dat, give me de chromium leg,
I beg
Sy Borg
Gimme dat, gimme dat
Sy Borg
Gimme dat, give me de chromium leg,
Little wires, pliers, tires
They turn me on
Maybe I'm crazy
Maybe I'm cra/y
Maybe I m crazy,
mon...
Stroking several of SY's gleaming appendages JOE continues...
Gee, Sy
This is a real groovy apartment
You've got here
[SY BORG:]
All government sponsored recreational services are clean and efficient
[JOE:]
This is exciting
I never plooked
A tiny chrome-plated machine
That looks like a magical pig
With marital aids stuck all over it
Such as yourself before
[SY BORG:]
You'll love it!
Its a way of life.
[JOE:]
Does that mean maybe later
You'll plook me....
[SY BORG:]
If you wish, we may have a groovy orgy
[JOE:]
Just me and yon?
[SY BORG:]
I share this apartment
With a modified
Gay Bob doll
He goes all the way...
Ever try oral sex with a miniature rubberized homo-replica?
[JOE:]
No, ah, not yet,
Ah, is this him?
[CENTRAL SCRUTINIZED]
This is him.
Your wish is his command
He likes you
He wants to kiss you always
Just tell him what you want
[JOE:]
Really?
Hi, little guy
Think I might get a tiny, but exciting
Blow.. .job...
Gimme dat, gimme dat
Blow job...
Gimme dat, give me de chromium cob.
[SY BORG:]
Bend over.
[JOE:]
Gay Bob
Blow job
Gimme dat, gimme dat
Blow job
Gimme dat, give me de chromium cob
[SY BORG:]
You'll love it!
It looks just like a TeleFunken U-47.
[JOE:]
Little leather cap and trousers
They look so gay..
Warren just bought some
Warren just bought some
Warren just bought some
Hey...
[SY BORG:]
Bob is tired.
Plook me now,
You savage rascal
Ehhh!
That tickles.
You are a fun person
I like you.
I want to kiss you always.
[JOE:]
Gee, this is great
Hows about some bondage and humiliation
[SY BORG:]
Anything you say, master.
[JOE:]
Oh no, I don't believe it
You're way more fun than Mary...
[SY BORG:]
You're plooking too hard...
[JOE:]
And cleaner than Lucille...
[SY BORG:]
Plooking on me...
[JOE:]
What have I been missing
All these years?
[SY BORG:]
Too hard
[JOE:]
Sy...
[SY BORG:]
Too hard
[JOE:]
Sy...
[SY BORG:]
Plooking too hard on me-e-e-e-e...
[JOE:]
Speak to me
Oh no...
The golden shower must have shorted out
His master circuit
He's, he's, oh my God
I must have plooked him...
Hey
To death...
Hey
[CENTRAL SCRUTINIZER:]
This is the CENTRAL SCRUTINIZER...You have just destroyed
one model XOJ-37 Nuclear Powered Pan-Sexual Roto-Plooker.
And you're gonna have to pay for it! So give up, you haven't
got a chance.
[JOE:]
But I...
I, I, I, I...
I can't pay
I gave all my money
To some kinda groovy religious guy...
Two songs ago...
[CENTRAL SCRUTINIZER:]
Come on out son...
Between the two of us
We'll find a way to
Work it out
"Dong Work For Yuda"
[Act II]
[SCENE TWELVE]
[DONG WORK FOR YUDA]
[CENTRAL SCRUTINIZER:]
Hello there...this is the CENTRAL SCRUTINIZER...
Joe was sent to a special prison where they keep all the
other criminals from the music business...you know...
the ones who get caught...it's a horrible place, painted
all green on the inside, where musicians and former executives
take turns snorting detergent and plooking each other...
(As the CENTRAL SCRUTINIZER chuckles to himself for a moment,
FATHER RILEY, who became BUDDY JONES, steps into view in his
new identity: FATHER RILEY 8. JONES, Prison Chaplain, who, in a rather
heavy-handed piece of imagery, is now entrusted with the job of singing
this song as he assists the captured executives in their quest for new
meat to plook, and, once having found these victims for the princes of
the industry, trades them little blobs of sanctified lubricant jelly forcigarettes
and candy bars while he holds them down so the execs won't have to work
too hard when they stick it in.)
... Anyway, while he's in there he meets this guy who used to be
a promo man for a major record company, Bald-Headed John...
King of the Plookers...
[FATHER RILEY B. JONES:]
This is the story 'bout Bald-Headed John
[FORMER EXECS:]
Dong work for Yuda, Dong, Dong
[FATHER RILEY B. JONES:]
He talks a lot 'n it's usually wrong
[FORMER EXECS:]
Dong work for Yuda, Dong, Dong
[FATHER RILEY B. JONES:]
He said Dong was Wong,
'N Wong was Kong
'N Dong work for Yuda,
N John was wrong
[FORMER EXECS:]
Sorry John
Sorry better
Try it again
Dong work for Yuda
Dong, Dong
Sorry John
Sorry better
Try it again
He said Dong was Wong
And Wong was Kong
And Dong was Gong
'N John was wrong
[FATHER RILEY B. JONES:]
John's got a sausage
Yeh man
John's got a sausage
Yeh man
John's got a sausage that will make you fart
John's got a sausage that will break your heart
Make you fart
And break your heart
Don't bend over if you are smart
He took a little walk to the weenie stand
Johns got a sausage
Yeh man
A great big weenie in both his hands
John's got a sausage
Yeh man
He sucked on the end 'til the mustard squirt
He said. "Ya'll stand back 'cause you might get hurt'
[FORMER EXECS:]
Sorry John
Sorry better
Try it again
Johns got a sausage
Yeh man
Sorry John
Sorry better
Try it again
He said Dong was Wong
Wong was Kong
Kong was Gong
'N" John was wrong
Sorry John
Sorry better
Try it again
[BALD-HEADED JOHN:]
Make way for the iron shaschige
[FORMER EXECS:]
Sorry John
Sorry better
Try it again
[BALD-HEADED JOHN:]
I need a dozen towels so the boys can take a shower
[FORMER EXECS:]
Sorry John
Sorry better
Try it again
[BALD-HEADED JOHN:]
Bartender, bring me a colada and milk
[FORMER EXECS:]
Sorry John
Sorry better
Try it again
[BALD-HEADED JOHN:]
On second thought, make that a water . . .
"Keep It Greasey"
[Act II]
[SCENE THIRTEEN]
[KEEP IT GREASEY]
[JOE:]
[annointing himself as he sings]
Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy
Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy
Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy
[MANX:]
Roll it over n grease it down
I'll drive you through the heart of town
JOE (who is still wearing his housewife costume from when
he first picked up SY BORG in The Closet) adjusts his little
apron to a more advantageous posi-tion and sings..
[JOE:]
Hey, the good women, they sure has it tough
The good men, well there ain't enough
All the good girls are lookin' all the time
Good men is something that they can't find
Cause if they find one miraculously
They try to be as lovin as they can be
'Cause if they find one and let him go
Chances are they might not never find one no mo'
Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy
Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy
Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy
[MANX:]
Roll it over 'n grease it down
I'll drive you through the heart of town
[JOE:]
A good lovin' man is hardest to find
A good woman needs to ease her mind
And I know a few that need to ease it behind
All y'gotta do is grease it down
'N everything is fine
Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy
Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy
Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy
[MANX:]
Roll it over n grease it down
I'll drive you through the heart of town
[JOE:]
A girl don't need
No fancy grease
To get herself
Some rump release
Any kind
Of lube'll do
Maybe from another
Part of you
Lube from the North
Lube from the South
Take a little slobber
From the side of your mouth
Roll it over
Grease it down
Here come that crazy
Screamin' sound...
Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy
Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy
Keep it greasey so it'll go down easy
Roll it over 'n grease it down, down, down
Grease it down...
Oh no! Here comes that screamin sound again...
And sure enough the walls of the prison did reverberate with
all sorts of screamin' sounds as lawyers and execs and promo
personages all decide to jump on JOE for a spectacular high
speed gang-bang leading to...
"Outside Now"
[Act II]
[SCENE FOURTEEN]
[OUTSIDE NOW]
[JOE: (somewhat exhausted)]
These executives have plooked the fuck out of me
And there's still a long time to go before I've
Paid my debt to society
And all I ever really wanted to do was
Play the guitar 'n bend the string like
Reent-toont-teent-toont-teenooneenoonee
I've got it
I'll be sullen and withdrawn
I'll dwindle off into the twilight realm
Of my own secret thoughts
I'll lay on my back here 'til dawn
In a semi-catatonic state
And dream of guitar notes
That would irritate
An executive kinda guy...
And sure enough JOE dreams up a few of those guitar notes
that every executive despises...those low ones...every exec
knows it's only the records with the high squeally ones that
get to be hits (except for Duane Eddy)...
Well, I guess that one did the trick
If they only coulda heard it
Half-a-dozen of em woulda strangled
While they was suckin on each others' dick
But that was just a bunch of imaginary
Notes I played
Just a little extra somethin'
To keep me goin from day to day
That's okay
I'll be gettin outta here pretty soon
Then I won't have to live
In this ugly fuckin room
Can't wait to see
I can't wait to see what it's like
On the outside now...
[etc., etc., etc.]
And JOE just lays there, dreaming imaginary guitar notes for years
on end, until finally they let him out...
"He Used To Cut The Grass"
[Act III]
[SCENE FIFTEEN]
[HE USED TO CUT THE GRASS]
[JOE: (to himself as he walks out of prison)]
I'm out at last
Boy, the world sure looks different
Wow... there's hardly anything fun to do
Since they made music illegal
But I'm hooked I got the habit
I got to have it
I need to play
But theres no musicians anymore
They're all gone
Wait!
I've got it!
I'll be sullen and withdrawn
I'll dwindle off into the twilight realm
Of my own secret thoughts
I'll walk through the parking lot
In a semi-catatonic state
And dream of guitar notes
To go with the loading-zone announcements.
JOE wanders through the world which by then has been totally epoxied over,
carefully organized, with everyone reporting daily to his or her appointed place in
a line somewhere in front of a window somewhere in a building somewhere in order
to collect his or her welfare check, which, when cashed, made it possible for the young
ones to continue the payments for the obsolete and irreparable appliances their
parents had purchased on the installment plan years ago, providing as security
the future incomes of their children. The rest of these checks were used by the young
recipients to buy fun things of their own on credit, most of which broke down or failed
within moments of purchase and seemed to be stacking up everywhere.
[CENTRAL SCRUTINEER:]
The White Zone is for loading or unloading only.
If you gotta load or unload, go to the White Zone.
You'll love it.
Its a way of life.
As JOE stumbles over mounds of dead consumer goods formed into abstract statues
ded-icated to the Quality of American Craftsmanship, dreaming his stupid little guitar
notes, he hears, somewhere in the back of his head, the voice of MRS. BORG,
taunting him:
[Mrs. BORG'S VOICE:]
Turn it down!
Turn it down!
I have children sleeping here!
Don't you boys know any nice songs?
I m calling the police!
I did it!
They'll be here... shortly!
I in not joking around anymore!
You'll see now!
There they are... they're coining!
Just listen to that mess, would you!
Every day this goes on around here!
He used to cut my grass...
He was a very nice boy...
He used to cut my grass...
He was a very nice boy...
He used to cut my grass...
He was a very nice boy...
He used to cut my grass...
He was a very nice boy...
[CENTRAL SCRUTINIZER:]
This is the CENTRAL SCRUTINIZER... Yes...he used to be a nice boy. ..He used to cut
the grass.. .But now his mind is totally destroyed by music. Hes so crazy now he even
believes that people are writing articles and reviews about his imaginary guitar notes,
and so, continuing to dwindle in the twilight realm of his own secret thoughts, he not only
dreams imaginary guitar notes, but, to make matters worse, he dreams imaginary vocal
parts to a song about the imaginary journalistic profession...
"Packard Goose"
[Act III]
[SCENE SIXTEEN]
[PACKARD GOOSE]
[JOE: (clutching the hood ornament of an ancient car)]
Maybe you thought
I was the Packard Goose
Or the Ronald MacDonald of the nouveau-abstruse
Well fuck all them people, I don't need no excuse
For being what I am
Do you hear me, then?
All them rock n roll writers is the worst kind of sleaze
Selling punk like some new kind ol English disease
Is that the wave of the future? Aw, spare me please!
Oh no, you gotta go
Who do you write for?
I wan u a know
I believe you is the governments whore
And keeping peoples dumb is where you're
C'oming from
And keeping peoples dumb is where you're coming from
Fuck all them writers with the pen in their hand
I will be more specific so they might understand
They can all kiss my ass
But because its so grand
They best just stay away
Hey, hey, hey
Hey, Joe, who did you blow?
"Watermelon In Easter Hay"
[Act III]
[SCENE SEVENTEEN]
[WATERMELON IN EASTER HAY]
[CENTRAL SCRUTINIZER:]
This is the CENTRAL SCRUTINIZER...Joe has just worked himself into
an imaginary frenzy during the fade-out of his imaginary song...
He begins to feel depressed now. He knows the end is near. He has realized
at last that imaginary guitar notes and imaginary vocals exist only in the mind
of The Imaginer ...and ... ultimately, who gives a fuck anyway... Who gives a fuck
anyway? So he goes back to his ugly little room and quietly dreams his last
maginary guitar solo...
"A Little Green Rosetta"
[Act III]
[after the song ends]
This is the CENTRAL SCRUTINIZER... As you can see, MUSIC can get you
pretty fucked up...Take a tip from Joe, do like he did, hock your imaginary guitar
and get a good job...Joe did, and he's a happy guy now, on the day shift at
the Utility Muffin Research Kitchen, arrogantly twisting the sterile canvas snoot of
a fully-charged icing anointment utensil. And every time a nice little muffin comes
by on the belt, he poots forth... And if this doesn't convince you that MUSIC
causes BIG TROUBLE...then maybe I should turn off my plastic' megaphone and
sing the last song on the album in my regular voice...
[SCENE EIGHTEEN]
[A LITTLE GREEN ROSETTA]
[CENTRAL SCRUTINIZER:]
A little green rosetta
A little green rosetta
A little green rosetta
A little green rosetta
You'll make a muffin betta
With a green rosetta
A little green rosetta
A tiny green rosetta
A little green rosetta
A little green rosetta
A little green rosetta
A little green rosetta
You'll make a muffin betta
Betta
It's really getting betta
It's betta, it's betta
With a green rosetta
Green rositti
A little green rositti
It's really, really meaty
A little green rositti
Betta, betta,
(Hey, really out there...really good)
It's really getting betta
It's betta, it's betta
With a green rosetta
Setta, setta
(Good God, give the drummer some)
Green rosetta
A little green rosetta
A little green rosetta
A little green rosetta
(Setta, setta, setta, etc....)
(Make a muffin, make a muffin, make a muffin,
Make a muffin betta, make a muffin betta, [etc....])
With a green rosetta
A little green rosetta
[Etc....]
Good God! You're really jammin ! Now the Reggae version, hey, for the People in
the Third World... we haven't forgotten anybody on this song.. .for all of you French
people...who think that you re outta sight... And for the people in Spain...who think
the French people are where its at... And for the people in Mongolia who always
wanted to go to Spain for a vacation... And for those of you in Taiwan who got chumped,
this chorus is for you: (Rang Tang Ding Dong, I am the Japanese Sandman...
Take eight...)
Green rosetta
Green rosetta
A little green rosetta
(Against the Reggae beat, though... No, it's still Reggae, but it s all backwards)
A little green rosetta
A little green rosetta
A little green rosetta
You'll make a muffin betta [Etc., etc., etc...]
Now you see, some places in the Third World it might be difficult to dance to this because
the kerosene record player is not a very efficient device.. .And a lot of times they run out of,
they run out of spunk right in the middle of the chorus... Causing the song to sound like this...
A little green rosetta
However we continue in spite of the fact that the fuel may be low on your record player.
We suggest that in places like the Fourth World where things are really tough that you
keep the record player going by rubbing two sticks together. And if all else fails, throw
the record away... build your own green rosetta...try this recipe: Well start with a lump of
grass... the grass bone connected to the ankle bone...the knee bone connected to the
wishbone...and then everybody moves to New York and goes to a party with Warren.
Hey! And we've flown in, at great expense, (triple scale, no less, ladies and gentlemen),
Steve Gad's clone to play the out-chorus on this song...lies really outa-site, in spite of
thefact that the click track is totally irrelevant to what he's doing now. I in listening to
the click, yes I'm suffering with the click track right now...this guy is totally out of sync with it,
but what the fuck. Ed Mann will call him up later, show him the sign. Okay Vinnie, where
is five?
They're pretty good musicians
They re pretty good musicians
They're pretty good musicians
They're pretty good musicians
But it don't make no difference
If they're good musicians
Because anybody who would buy this record
Doesn't give a fuck if there's good musicians
On it
Because this is a stupid song
AND THAT'S THE WAY I LIKE IT
A little green rosetta
A little green rosetta
A little green rosetta
A little green rosetta
You make a muffin betta
With a little green rosetta
A little green rosetta
Rosetta, rosetta, rosetta
[etc., etc., etc....]
AL MALKIN.
Zetta..