When Will Jesus Bring the Pork Chops

COUNT TO A BILLION

ANNOUNCER: And now, ladies and gentlemen, direct from Dover, Delaware, Big Earl Stemplemeyer’s Television Network presents Count to a Billion.

(Applause, lively organ music)

Yes, it’s Count to a Billion, the show where ordinary people of limited intelligence can win big money by simply counting to a billion. As we like to say, “If you can count at all, and have a reasonable amount of time on your hands, chances are you can count to a

billion.” So now, here’s your host, a man you can count on, that burly guy who’s one in a billion, Basil Dan-derfleck.

(Applause, lively organ music)

BASIL: Thank you, Wynonie Flench. And now, folks, let’s meet our two players, Tillie Lipfinder and Zippy Brillnipper, alias Skeezix Pendleton.

(Applause, lively organ music)

When Will Jesus Bring the Pork Chops

BASIL: How about it, folks? Are you two ready to count to a...

When Will Jesus Bring the Pork Chops

TILLIE: Yes sir.

When Will Jesus Bring the Pork Chops

ZIPPY: You bet your ass!

(Applause, lively organ music)

BASIL: All right, let’s get started. As you know, we have only one rule: No skipping any numbers. Ready, set, go!

(Loud bell, lively organ music, applause, yelps, cheers)

TILLIE: (Incredibly rapid pace) 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33 …

ZIPPY: (Extremelyslowly) 1…2 …3. ..4…

BASIL: Tillie appears to have jumped off to an early lead, but as we know, slow and steady wins the race, so don’t count Zippy out yet. By the way, tonight’s wi

TILLIE: (Incredibly rapid pace) 10,366,793, 10,366,794, 10,366.795, 10,366,796 . ..

ZIPPY: (Extremely slowly) 25,853,264 … 25,853,265 … 25,853,266 … 25,853,267 … 25,853,268 … 25,853,269 …

BASIL: Wow! Amazing! In no time at all, Zippy has caught up and pulled ahead. But he’d better not get overconfident, he still has 974 million to go.

We’ll check back in a moment, but first, a reminder that tonight’s ru

“hard to carry.” Take them with you and travel in style! Packwell and Goforth: ahead of their time since 1357. Let’s check in again with Zippy and Tillie.

TILLIE: 536,895,241, 536,895,242, 536,895,243, 536,895,244… ZIPPY: 67,667,776 … 67,667,777 … 67,667,778 … 67,667,779 …

Well, Tillie has come back and taken a big lead, because, unfortunately, Zippy’s severe lisp has slowed him down considerably here in this section which includes tho many thicktheth and theventh. I’m sorry … so many sixes and sevens. This does not look good for Zippy. But we’re about out of time for now . . .

(Groans, hisses, boos, lively organ music)

. . . but join us again next week, as we watch the conclusion of this thrilling match on tape and meet two new contestants, as once again we play America’s favorite counting game . . . Count to a Billion!

(Cheers, boos, applause, hisses, shouts, threats, curses, audience advancing menacingly toward stage, lively organ music)

ANNOUNCER: (over music and crowd noise)

Tonight’s guests will stay at the fabulous Fireproof Motel, located between Long John Silver’s and the Rub

It and Yank It massage parlor, just outside Dover, Delaware. Dover: “The City That Just Missed the Mark.’ Don’t forget, the Fireproof Motel features superb drinks and finger food in the intimate cocktail lounge, Rita’s Box. Drop in and ask Rita for some finger food.

Stay tuned now for a full-length movie on America his favorite new date show, Di

After the movie and the food, Dagwood and Candace will tear off a lengthy piece of ass on the kitchen table, taking turns being on top, and demonstrating several interesting, new sexual positions, including the Baghdad Twirl and the Bosnian Dick-knot.

Good night everyone, and God bless America!

(Lively organ music, lustful throaty moans and maniacal screaming)

When Will Jesus Bring the Pork Chops

EUPHEMISMS: Death and Dying

Some of our best work with euphemisms involves the subject that makes us the most uncomfortable: death.

Our most common euphemism for death is to say the person passed away. Or passed on. If you believe in an afterlife, you may prefer crossed over, or crossed over to the other side. Whenever I hear that someone has crossed over to the other side, I always picture Fifth Avenue.

Then there’s the official term for dying, the doctor term. In this case the person simply expires. Like a magazine subscription. One month he just doesn’t show up. Unfortunately, he can’t renew. Or so they say. Better check with the Hindus on that.

Now, continuing. In this current age of specializationand increasing detachment if the person in question dies in a hospital, it’s called a terminal episode. Although the insurance company sees it as negative patient-care outcome. That one’s actually kinda nice, isn’t it? And if the negative patient-care outcome was caused by medical malpractice, then it’s referred to it as a therapeutic misadventure. Colorful term. No wonder so many doctors are leaving their practices; it’s hard to get therapeutic-misadventure insurance.

But by far the most creative terms we’ve come up with to comfort ourselves about death are the ones that describe the rituals survivors put themselves through. We owe a lot of this softened language to the funeral business. Or, as they prefer to be known, the death-care industry. They have completely transformed the language used to describe what happens following a death.

In years past it went like this: “The old man died, so the undertaker picked up the body, brought it to the funeral home and put it in a casket. People sent flowers and held a wake. After the funeral, they put the coffin in a hearse and drove it to the cemetery, where the dead man was buried in a grave.”

But in these days of heightened sensitivity, the same series of events produces what sounds like a completely different experience: “The senior citizen passed away, so the funeral director claimed the remains of the decedent, took them to the memorial chapel and placed them in a burial container. Grieving survivors sent floral tributes to be displayed in the slumber room, where the grief coordinator conducted the viewing. Following the memorial service, the funeral coach transported the departed to the garden of remembrance where his human remains were interred in their final resting place. “

Huh? What’s that? Did someone die or something?

I’VE GOT A TRAIN TO CATCH

This item demonstrates how stupid the average American is. Every ninety minutes someone in this country is hit by a train. A train, okay? Trains are on tracks; they can’t come and get you. They can’t surprise you when you step off a curb. You have to go to them. Got that?