||Boggy Creek II
||Track of the Moon Beast
Mike: I see a caulking gun, a shoe...
Servo: Wow, our onion blossomer works really good!
Crow: Hey, Mike! Look, we finally got our onion blossomer from Lillian Vernon.
Mike: Wow. And you onion-blossomed a bowling ball?
Servo: Of course! Blossoming makes everything taste great!
Servo: Well just about anything can be a pleasing side dish with lamb or salisbury steak.
Crow: Doesn't everything look just delicious?
Mike: Everything looks blossomed. Is that my wallet there?
Servo: You bet! Blossomed and batter-dipped.
Mike: Great. Well, we'll be right back.
Crow: Doesn't it all just look so good?
Servo: Ooh, I wanna try some plunger.
Crow: Plunger, yum.
Mike: Mmm. Now this is a blossom worth eating.
Crow: Now try it with my delicious dipping sauce.
Servo: Hey, looks gooood! Whatcha got there?
Crow: Your head.
Servo: Oh... You blossomed and fried my head?
Mike: Oh, lighten up. You didn't even miss it.
Crow: Try it with my dipping sauce, Tom.
Servo: But you blossomed and fried... my... Hey, is that peppercorn ranch?
Mike: Oh, Pearl's calling.
Pearl: Mike, Crow, Snack, I've done it. This experiment will thrust me to the highest ranks of mad science.
Observer: All done.
Pearl: We've saudered tiny electrodes to all the speech and motor sensors of Bobo's brain. It will either kill him or allow us to control his every motion.
Observer: Oh, and it's portable. All controlled by this universal remote we got at Target for nine bucks. Here, try it out, girl.
Pearl: Oh, let's try it out with a few simple motor skills. Um, left hand twitch. A nice knee-jerk.
Observer: Try the self-strangling macro I put in there. Lovely.
Pearl: Oh, okay. And now my favorite: perform a stupid softshoe, grab caddle prod, apply to self while singing "Tonight" from the charming loretto of "West Side Story".
Bobo: No, please! It'll kill me! Tonight, tonight... Aah! Oh, lordy, that hurt!
Pearl: Try it out, Mike! All you need is a universal learning remote with a control code for Bobo found in the manual.
Bobo: Officer Krupke...!
Mike: Okay, Pearl, we got it. Go ahead there, Crow.
Crow: Okay, let's see. Sanyo 02, Hitachi 19... Ah, here it is! Bobo, press 14.
Mike: Okay. Fourteen.
Mike: Enter! Okay, what should we do?
Servo: Oh, I got it, Mike! Come here, come here.
Mike: Yeah? That's good. Okay, okay.
Servo: Right, right...
Bobo: Oh, huh?
Bobo: Sorry, Pearl, can't help myself! Woo-hoo-hoo-hoo!
Bobo: Man, that must hurt. Oh sorry, Brain Guy. All involuntary muscular action! Now to involuntarily bring Mike and the 'Bots down!
Servo: It works!
Mike: Okay, great. Now I'll just have Bobo tie up Pearl and Brain Guy...
Mike: ...so he can't get... Uh-oh.
Crow: Uh-oh what?
Mike: Aah! I hit the sleep function.
Pearl: Good one, Nelson. You almost got me. I have a little work to do, but first let's get the monkey all nice and punished. Pluck all nose hairs with rusty pliers.
Pearl: Brain Dead, let's send these guys "Track of the Moon Beast". It stars nobody and features nothing. I'll help you gag on it.
Mike: Oh, you know... We tried, anyway.
Servo: Hey, at least we've got my head to snack on!
Mike: Yeah, I guess. Oh, we'll have to bring it into the theater, though. We've got Movie Sign!
Crow: Don't forget my delicious dipping sauce!
Servo: Aah! Aah!
Crow: Hehehehehe. Hi, Mike. Hehe. Sorry for rushing the Halloween season, Mike. It was just too good to resist. Hehehe. You can come out now!
Servo: Count Dracula, at your service.
Gypsy: Mike, do forgive us.
Servo: We also do bird calls. Aroo! Aroo!
Gypsy: That's a talent? Bird calls?
Crow: It uh, it was my idea, Mike. I made the mask earlier to do some mood shots on location here in the SOL. But when we decided to break for a beverage, Servo saw you here and explained to me that you were up here on the bridge eating pea pods. And since we had the mask, well, I'm afraid the bright idea of using the mask for a practical joke -- and then subsequently documenting your reaction to our practical joke on film -- was my idea. I'm afraid I got a little more reaction than I bargained for. I uh, I won't use the shot, Mike. That, that's a promise. Look, I'm sorry, Mike. I really am. It's just that since we had the mask, it was, you know, hard to resist doing, you know, a little practical joke there and rushing the uh... rushing the uh, Halloween season and all. Hehe. I mean, I didn't expect such a huge reaction! So you know and uh, it was my idea, so I'm really... I'm really sorry, Mike! I won't use the film. I promise. Really! Really, Mike! Please forgive me! I just got so much more than I bargained for! I... Please, Mike! I beg you! I'll never rush Halloween season again!
Mike: We'll be right back.
Crow: 'Cause you know, mood shots and practical jokes are... I hate myself.
Mike: Tonight, on SOL's...
Crow: Uh, lower please, Mike.
Mike: Okay... Uh, tonight on S... Uh, tonight on SOL's Legends of Rock.
Crow: Okay, good!
Mike: The tragic story behind The Band That Played California Lady. The Band That Played California Lady began as a duo featuring The Fish-Lipped Guy and The Eskimo. They developed their sound playing this kind of music in hard-scrabble bars before a growing circle of fans. It wasn't until they added The Friendly-Looking Backup Singer that The Band That Played California Lady finally hit it big with "California Lady". The pressures of success were huge and The Fish-Lipped Guy who took on the public role of creative genius began to take refuge in drinking and a new circle of fast friends as he and The Eskimo drifted apart. That summer, The Band That Played California Lady played before nearly 300,000 at Watkins Glen, New York, sharing a bill with Wet Willie and Toots & The Maytals. Backstage though, The Fish-Lipped Guy's drinking was beginning to get out of hand. Creative tensions mounted in a haze of alcohol served only to cover up The Eskimo's increasing drug use. It was a hopeful sign when The Friendly-Looking Backup Singer checked into a rehab clinic to have her blood replaced, but The Fish-Lipped Guy's out-of-control womanizing led The Eskimo into an ever more deadly spiral of drug use and drink. Drug-adled recording sessions produced The Band That Played California Lady's follow-up album, the more melodic "Rhode Island Lady". But it failed to crack the charts as The Band That Played California Lady's audience did not follow them into this new territory. By this time, the drugs, booze, and womanizing had begun to replace the music. Friends were troubled as an opportunity to open for Brewer & Shipley on a world tour went by the boards when The Eskimo slipped into a long-term alcoholic coma. The Fish-Lipped Guy turned increasingly to booze, drugs, womanizing, and out-of-control gambling, and The Band That Played California Lady was no more. Happily, the last year has seen a reunion and a whole new generation of fans have discovered the magic that is The Band That Played California Lady.
Crow: Okay, thank you. That's a wrap. And we have Movie Sign.
Mike: And tonight, we'll return to the drinking, drugs, gambling, womanizing, tax fraud...
Crow: Oh. Well maybe you know the position of the mobile personnel reconnaisance robot?
Crow: Eagle 1 to Base, Eagle 1 to Base. Position of mobile personnel reconnaisance robot unknown! Repeat, position unknown. Do not attempt to...
Servo: I'm right here, Crow.
Servo: Oh, you mean the little toy truck with the camera taped to it?
Servo: Yeah, I got it. Okay, Mike's headed in for a nap and our little friend is right behind. Soon, after all these years, we'll know what kind of pajamas our enigmatic pal wears.
Crow: Yeah, then we can kill him.
Servo: Uh... No, Crow.
Crow: Oh, right. I was thinking of someone else. I'm sorry.
Servo: Okay, switching to video feed from recon robot... now.
Crow: Aha! There he is!
Servo: Yes! Yes!
Crow: Oh, man! He's wearing a robe.
Servo: What, is he Fred McMurry? Take off the damn robe, Mike.
Crow: Oh, look at those... Yeah. Yeah, you're working out. Good job, grandpa.
Servo: I dunno. Maybe we should turn this off.
Crow: Uh, no. No. It's his fault for not suspecting that we would build a sophisticated robot to spy on his undergarments.
Servo: I guess. Oh, look at he's putting on a play of some sort with his stuffed animals.
Crow: Oh, let's get a closer look... Though I can't be sure, it appears that the bear is upset with his position on the bed and is vicuperating the young rabbit. I'll have more information on this as we...
Servo: Forget about that; he's on the move! He's taking off his robe!
Crow: Ooh! That's it... That's it... Take it off, baby. Daddy like. Give alot of those Bobby Brooks.
Servo: Oh, no! We're made! We're made! Switching off feed.
Crow: Okay, act natural. Act natural. What? What, Mike, what is your problem?
Servo: What are you accusing us of?
Mike: My robots, always stalking me while I sleep. Hehe. We'll be right back.
Servo: Take off your robe!
Crow: Shh, shh, shh, shh!
Servo: Oh, no. Sorry, nothing. Really, sorry.
Servo: But his mom is gonna miss him!
Mike: Servo, what's wrong? What's the matter?
Servo: Oh, Mike... I was playing with my bow and arrow, you know? And I was pretending like I was hunting, you know? With my bow and arrow, you know? So I shot my arrow, you know? Just like I was hunting, you know? And, and, and I accidentally hit a little satellite.
Mike: Well that's okay, Servo. But I guess you've learned a little lesson about the fragility of satellite communications. And the delicate balance of technology.
Servo: Yeah, I have, Mike. I'm sorry!
Mike: It's all right. You know what, I think you're gonna be okay.
Mike: I think we just have to feed him and take care of him; he'll be fine.
Mike: Oh, Servo, don't be silly. It's just a satellite. Satellites don't have mo... mo... thers? He... here, Mrs. Satellite. Uh, communicate. Go, go.
Servo: Uh, big... Ooh...
Observer: And so your anti-static cleaner is the best bet for keeping your brain clean. Kind of like a surge protector for the old bean. Here you go.
Bobo: Oh, you! You know, Brain Guy, you've been so helpful and so supportive what with me and my new exposed brain and all. Thank you so much.
Observer: Hell, I've been there!
Bobo: Oh, you certainly...
Observer: Oh oh oh oh, wait. If I find that I'm going to be away from the old brain for more than a few minutes, I like to put The Club on it. You cannot be too careful these days.
Bobo: Oh, you certainly can't, old buddy! You jerk!
Observer: Take that back, you idiot!
Bobo: Says you!
Pearl: I really hate to see them gettin' along.
Observer: You ignoramus.
Bobo: Look at you, stupid head!
Bobo: You dodo-head!
Observer: Credit risk.
Bobo: You dummy... head.
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