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Humor
BLACK BOX RADIO THEATER
Black Box Recording #1
What follows are transcripts of the last ten minutes of Black Box recordings recovered from the rubble of three airplanes..
Dec 20th 1995 aboard on a United Airlines Boing 757 jet.
Captain: Hey, I forgot to ask you what happened to you last night.
First Officer: Ugh, you don't want to know.
Captain: That bad, huh?
F. O.: She brought her twin sister with her.
Captain: That doesn't sound so bad.
F.O.: That's what I thought at first. As a matter of fact it looked like we
were going to get into a threesome. They were drinking White
Russians all night only they weren't white.
Captain: Black Russians. Vodka and Kaluha. Chicago still hasn't got back
us on our approach. Looks like a storm up ahead. What's the
radar say?
F.O.: All clear. Not a cloud in the sky.
Captain: That's odd. Anyway, the computer's never wrong. If it weren't
for the automatic pilot I'd actually have to fly this fucking thing.
F.O.: Don't scare me like that. You can barely work the toilet.
Captain: I know. And I forgot my glasses today. (He laughs).
F.O.: Don't you have contacts?
Captain: Only at the FAA. (He laughs). So anyway, you got these twins
juiced up on Black Russians and...
F.O.: Yeah, so I mention to them that I've always had this fantasy to
fuck a pair of twins. Only, I didn't say fuck. I said make love.
Captain: Smooth.
F.O.: And they really started to get turned onto this idea.
Captain: Oh man.
F.O.: So I slowly begin to usher them into the bedroom. They're giggling
all the way like a couple of school girls. Then they say that they're
going to do a strip tease for me. Only they need another drink to
work up their courage. So I take off my shoes and shirt and pop
on a tape.
Captain: What 'cha play?
F.O. All I had was a tape my daughter lent me. Rancid.
Captain: The "Out Come The Wolves" LP?
F.O.: I think so.
Captain: That's good punk.
F.O.: I wouldn't know. I'm more of a Hootie man myself.
Captain: Speaking of hooties...
F.O.: So they go into the bathroom to put on some more make up.
They're in there five, ten minutes. I'm starting to get worried.
I'm lying on the bed with my Johnson hanging out when I hear
this loud crash. I run into the bathroom and there they both are,
half naked in the bathtub fast asleep. The shower curtain is on
top of them and their make-up crap is scattered all over the floor.
(Half a minute of silence goes by)
Captain: Jesus, where the hell are we? Can you make anything out?
F.O.: Sorry, I wasn't paying attention. Maybe we should turn right,
I think Chicago is to the right. There's some red light blinking
on the radar. Whatever it is it looks like the size of a HOUSE.
Captain: (Excited) Oh, SHIT! Pull up, man.
F.O. The A.P. just disengaged. What do I do?
Captain: PULL UP. PULL UP.
F.O. My shoe just fell off. OH, SHIT!
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End of recording.
The plane hit another plane that was in a holding pattern above Denver International Airport killing all 160 passengers and crew on board. The investigation of the crash, which has not been concluded has examined whether the pilots were lulled into complacency by the automated nature of the Boeing 757's cockpit.
Black Box Recording #2
F.O.: Is the A.P. engaged?
Captain: A.P.? What's that stand for? Ass Patrol?
F.O.: Automatic Pilot, stupid!
Captain: Oh, yeah. I was
just spacing out on that dead bird splattered on my
windshield in front of me here. I wonder what kind it
is.
F.O.: Larus ridibundus , Blackheaded Gull. Just turn on the
windshield and wipe him off.
(There is a squeaking noise followed by both pilots
making loud moaning sounds)
Captain: That was not pretty! Hey, look. What does it remind you
of now?
F.O.: Lunch. Speaking of lunch, where's that juice I asked for?
Captain: Judy is such a bubble head. You gotta ask her five times
before she does anything. And don't call me stupid!
( One of the pilots whistles for four minutes)
Captain: I've got some DMT if you want to try it.
F.O.: What's that?
Captain: It's a powerful psychedelic. Di Methyl Tryptimine. It's made
from some kind of plant.
F.O.: You want me to try it now while we're flying the plane?
Captain: It only lasts about ten minutes. You get fantastic colors.
Aural and visual hallucinations. And after you come down
there's no hangover. You're not groggy at all. And best of
all, the FAA doesn't look for it in your urine. They're too
busy checking for pot and cocaine.
F.O.: Ten minutes, huh? Is it a pill?
Captain: No. You gotta smoke it in a glass pipe. I've got one here.
F.O.: Damn, captain! You snuck a glass pipe on board?
Captain: Those assholes never check me. Here, let me turn on the
exhaust fan.
F.O.: I don't know. Don't they tape our conversations?
Captain: They only listen to the tapes after a crash. By then it's
too late. We've had our fun. Here, let me light it for you.
Now take a big drag into your lungs and hold it in.
F.O.: I don't know. What about if something goes wrong
with the plane?
Captain: We're on automatic pilot. Anyway, we'll be in this
holding pattern for another hour.
The high lasts only ten minutes with
about a four minute peak.
F.O.: OK. I guess you know what you're doing. I hold it like this?
Captain: That's it. Now, inhale deeply.
( There's a half a minute of audible coughing followed by
three minutes of silence.)
Captain: How do you feel?
F.O.: I feel like Gumby.
Captain: What do you see when you shut your eyes?
F.O.: Vivid colors. Geometric shapes. I'm in what looks like a
parking garage. But the walls are made out of skin...
I can hear little chirping laughter above me.
Wow, There's like a shining crystal palace stuck to my shoe.
Oh, it turned into a pink insect. Oh my God! I just saw
Donald Duck. I swear! It was Donald Duck. He was
carrying a large fetus. This stuff is amazing. Every time
I talk I can hear a echo in my headphones.
Captain: Ha ha. That's because I turned on your mike. I'm
Broadcasting your voice to the passengers.
F.O.: You sick fuck! Ha ha. ATTENTION PASSENGERS!
On your right you will see little houses made of
bubble gum. And on your left, if you close your
eyes, you will see flying saucers shaped like shoes
being piloted Hungarian finger puppets.
(A warning alarm goes off in the cockpit)
F.O.: Wow, What are you playing now? Kraftwerk?
Captain: Oh, shit! What the HELL is that?
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
End of recording. The American Airlines 747 was slammed
into above Denver airport while in a holding pattern by a United
Airlines Boing 757 which was lost on route to Chicago. All 142
passengers and crew were killed.
Black Box Recording #3
F.O.: How long are we going to have to sit here?
Captain: The tower says they got a traffic jam on runway five. Near
gate 93.
(Five minutes go by. The two-man crew kill time by chatting
about the other planes on the runway)
F.O.: Would you look at that plane. What company is that?
Captain: It's the new one. Mattel.
F.O.: What? The toy company?
Captain: Yeah, they just bought out Delta.
F.O.: What would you call those wheels on that plane?
Captain: Hot Wheels. And you should see their flight attendants.
They all look like Barbie. Tower, this is flight 1202.
How much longer till we get the green light for takeoff?
Tower: Flight 1202, sit tight a little while longer.
(The Female Head Flight Attendant enters the Cockpit)
F.A. Well, if it isn't Bevis and Butthead. Have you guys been
farting in here?
Captain: Look who's here. Cathy Crash Bait. Is it time for our
blow jobs, yet?
F.A.: It sure is. Go ahead, blow each other. Are you going to
trim the trees again during take off? I think you took
a few shingles off some houses too.
F.O.: That's what they get for living near the airport. How's
the passenger situation?
F.A.: I've got a Japanese convention in first class.
Captain: Kamikazes.
F.A.: And there's fifty two Special Olympics hopefuls driving
my crew bananas. We haven't even left the ground and
I've had to drain twenty five gag bags. Why don't you say
something to the passengers about the delay?
F.O.: How about a morning prayer?
Captain: (Into radio) Tower, this is flight 1202 again. How much
longer now?
Tower: Listen flight 1202. If you bother me once more
your not going to Mexico!
(A loud noise is heard )
Captain: What the hell was that?
F.O. Jesus, is that hail?
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
(End of recording. The DC 10 which had been sitting on the
Denver runway waiting to take off was showered by the debris
of a mid-air collusion of a boing 757 and a 747. Of the 122
passengers and crew on board 52 Special Olympics hopefuls
survived and went on to win twelve gold metals)
SNOT ART
A one act play
by Kaz
Setting: The research and development offices of Hubble Bubble Chewing Gum Company, fine makers of novelty toys and bubble gum cards. We see Ira Shwartz sitting at his desk on the phone holding a small toy.
Ira: Wang, Wang. Listen, Wang. You got the Snot Rockets all wrong. First of all they're suppose to be three inches and you gave me one and a half inches. Right, a three inch plastic nose. And it's suppose to be a Caucasian nose. This one's yellow. It's for the American market. I don't care what color noses are in Hong Kong. Ours are pink. Yes that's right ,Wang I have a pink nose. No, my nose is not three inches long. It needs to be that size to fit the snot shooter inside. And where are the warts that I asked for? The warts on the nose. Look at the blueprints. There's three warts on the drawing. Warts. Hard round lumps on the skin. They're caused by a virus. No, I don't want them seperate. Just follow the blueprint. What do you mean an extra ten thousand dollars? Everything I'm saying is in the contract. Remember, the trigger in the nose has got to shoot a jelly-like substance. The trigger you got in here is too powerful. They're snots not bullets. It wouldn't be bad if this was a booger rocket toy but all the labels and ad copy have been printed already saying Snot Rockets. All right let's go over this again. The kid holds up the plastic nose. Presses the button in the right nostril and a green-candy jelly-like substance shoots out of the left nostril. Grosses everyone out. What's that, Wang? No, we got a company in Singapore making the snots. It's suppose to be non-toxic and edible. The last test shipment they sent us tasted like horse shit and burned my tongue.
(In walks a skinny, greasy looking fellow carrying a portfolio)
Ira: Hi, Norman. I'll be right with you. Ok, so do understand now, Wang? Yes, I got the slippers you sent. Thank you very much. Ok, Ok, right, pink nose, less propulsion, three warts. Oh, and we need it by Friday. (Hangs up)
Hey, Norman. What 'cha got for me?
Norman: I brought the finish on the Crack Babies bubble gum card.
( Norman hands Ira an illustration board ).
Ira: Great, great. Let's take a look. Not bad. Nice skin texture on the forehead. I like the dead gerbil, nice touch. Put a party hat on the gerbil's head. Did John tell you to put a skin rash on this kid?
Norman: No. That was my idea.
Ira: Ok. Get rid of the rash. And make the kid look more retarded. Maybe some drool. He should be more slack-jawed too. Braces on his upper and lower incisors. And give him seven , nine, thirteen pimples.
Norman. Aw, man. That's too many.
Ira: Too bad. The kid you drew doesn't look geeky enough.
Norman: I'll do six pimples.
Ira: Not enough. Besides, six is an even number. You can't do an even number.
Norman: Why not?
Ira: Even numbers aren't funny.
Norman: Says who?
Ira: Look, I'm not going to argue with you.
Norman: Who says even numbers aren't funny?
Ira: I think Jesus said it right before he died.
( A voice is heard over the intercom: Frank Renolds to the reception desk. Jake with Hairy Eyeballs is here.)
Norman: Look, I've been working on this piece for two weeks. You've already changed it twenty times.
Ira: Twenty one times.
Norman: What?
Ira: You should have said twenty one times. It would have been funnier.
Norman: I'll give you five pimples.
Ira: Eleven.
Norman: Seven.
Ira: Nine.
Norman: Anything over five I want ten bucks a pimple.
Ira: I'll give you three bucks a pimple for every pimple over nine.
Norman: All right. You're killing me here, man.
( Intercom voice: Hong Kong Rubber Balls on 6)
Ira: So what else are you doing these days?
Norman: I'm having a show of my landscape paintings in Soho next week.
And I got a write up in ArtForum.
Ira: That's nice.
(The phone rings)
Ira: Ira here. Yeah, hold on a second. Norman, I gotta take this call. I need that finish on Thursday. Oh, and put some snots in there
somewhere.
(Drop the curtain)
THE NOSE PARTY
by Kaz
All the noses had a party
In the month of May
Snots and boogers tried to get in
But were turned away
Some were stuffed and some were snorting
And some of them were blown
Everybody picked on Nose Job
For being so well known
Schnoz and Honker sniffed at Nasal
And tried to pull his hair
While Snooty stayed above it all
By being in the air
The noses that were brown blew smoke
At noses that were ruddy
The whole affair did not conclude
Till every nose was bloody
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