Captain Solecistic: The Illiterate Avenger – Part II

A radio clicks on.  Static is heard, as well as a high-pitched whine as the radio tunes to a good station.

ADVERTISER: . . . and you’ll never have to worry about blood stains again.  Now stayed tuned for the continuation of Captain Solecistic: The Illiterate Avenger, and remember that when the Captain needs to deal with those pesky bodily fluids, he uses Uncle Popee’s Excrete-A-Gone for the stains.

A trumpet fanfare.

ANNOUNCER:  Look up – er, down, at the street.  Who is that masked man, dashing through traffic and knocking over hot dog vendors with the greatest of ease?  Why, it’s none other than Captain Solecistic: The Illiterate Avenger, the superhero with the heart of a warrior, the strength of a giant, and the inability to read even the simplest instructions on a box of Poptarts that even a mentally challenged, blind 7-year old could read.

CAPTAIN: (from a distance) Hey!

ANNOUNCER:  He also has super-hearing!  In last week’s adventure, the newest villain to plague the streets of Ruby City, The Jack of Trades threatened to blow up the town’s whiskey distillery if, thereby crippling the entire adult male population, if his demands were not met.  The Captain dashed off to stop him, but he was foiled once again when he could not comprehend a map of the city.  Now he must consult with his greatest foe if he is to find a way to win the day!

LIBRARIAN: (stamping a book) And this is due back in two weeks.  Enjoy!

The sound of glass breaking.

CAPTAIN:  It is I, Captain Solecis –

LIBRARIAN:  Oh lord, not you again.

CAPTAIN:  Yes, me, Captain Sol –

LIBRARIAN:  Why can’t you leave us alone?!

CAPTAIN:  Captain –

LIBRARIAN:  First, you come and pee all over my desk, then you get struck by lightning, completely frying my computer, and now you’re over here every week asking for help reading every single piece of paper you find.

CAPTAIN:  Not every week.

LIBRARIAN:  EVERY WEEK!  And every time, you come through the window because you’re too stupid to read the signs pointing to the front door!  Huge glass windows are expensive, you know?!

CAPTAIN:  Well –

LIBRARIAN:  And you always hit me after I help you.

CAPTAIN: (boisterous laugh) Yes, we have fought many battles, and while you are a dastardly foe, I have always won in the end.

LIBRARIAN:  My medicals bills are stacking up –

CAPTAIN:  But I am not here to regale your patrons with our past encounters.  Now, I need your help to stop the newest villain threatening this city.

LIBRARIAN:  I’ve started to talk to a lawyer –

Captain slaps the librarian.

CAPTAIN:  I know you loathe me, and I you, and someday we shall fight until one of us is no more, but dammit man, there are more important things to worry about!  Don’t you listen to the radio?

LIBRARIAN:  There are no radios allowed in the library.

CAPTAIN:  The Jack of Trades is threatening to blow up the town’s whiskey supply, and I need your help to stop him.

PATRON:  The distillery?!

The sound of many people in the library fainting.

LIBRARIAN:  What the hell?

CAPTAIN:  (taking out a map) You may be a pretentious, smarmy bastard and I hate everything you stand for, but you’ve done fair by this city.  Let us join forces.  Read this map, and help me find the distillery so that I may stop the Jack of Trades before it is too late.

LIBRARIAN:  Oh god.

CAPTAIN:  Yes, call upon your evil and ancient eldergods, and call forth your powers to decipher any written language.

LIBRARIAN:  You really are stupid.

CAPTAIN:  You know all my abilities to comprehend any written symbols has been stripped away!

LIBRARIAN:  You’re not dumb because you can’t read, or at least not just because you can’t read.

Captain knocks a lamp off a desk and onto the ground.

LIBRARIAN:  Hey!

CAPTAIN:  We don’t have time for this!  That distillery is going to be gone soon, and I need to know where it is!

LIBRARIAN:  It’s right next door, you moron!

CAPTAIN:  What?

LIBRARIAN:  If you had opened your eyes before jumping through windows and knocking out all the men in the library, you would have seen that the distillery is the building right by this one.

CAPTAIN:  Oh.

LIBRARIAN:  The distillery is the company that funds this library!  That’s why we’re called Ruby City’s Drink n’ Read Book Depository.

CAPTAIN:  I always wondered about that.

LIBRARIAN:  The two buildings are even attached.  There is a hallway down the east wing that heads straight into the main show room of the distillery.

CAPTAIN:  By Jove!  I can use that hallway to sneak into the distillery, giving me the element of surprise!  Your powers and ancient knowledge helps save the city once again.  But the time for your wily incantations and archaic wordsmithing is over, and the time for brazen action is at hand.  Farewell, my greatest foe.  Today we have found a common ground and have become allies, but I swear someday I shall destroy you and your confusing building of . . . confusion.

Pause.  Captain slaps the librarian.  Pause.  Captain knocks another lamp to the ground.  Pause.

LIBRARIAN:  Get the hell out of my library.

Captain runs off.

NARRATOR:  And so Captain Solecistic is off!  But will he get to the distillery in time to stop the Jack of Trades, or will the distillery –

LIBRARIAN:  And library!  We’re attached, you know.

NARRATOR: Will he be able to save the distillery and library before the Jack of Trades incinerates it?  Will the Captain be able to find the east wing without being able reading any of the signs posted in the library?  Will the Librarian press charges against the Captain for breaking yet another window?

LIBRARIAN:  YES!

NARRATOR:  Tune in next time to find out the answers on Captain Solecistic: The Illiterate Avenger!

Fanfare plays.

A continuation from last week’s script.

Captain Solecistic: The Illiterate Avenger – Part I

Static and the high pitch whine of radio channels changing.  Bits of music can be heard, along with some Spanish, but then the radio clicks in on its wanted destination.

NEWSMAN: . . . and they never did find the other shoe.  That’s it for tonight’s evening edition of Newest Nightly News at Night.  We’ll be back at the same time tomorrow.  And make sure to catch our midday edition, the Daily Data Deadline Dispatch.  I’m you’re host Phillip G. Rubenfelderheimerloben, bidding you a good night.  Now stayed tuned for the latest installment of The Adventures of Captain Solecistic, the Illiterate Avenger!  But first, a word from our sponsors at Blunt Briefs, makers of the underwear that don’t mess around with small talk.

A jingle plays.

ADVERTISER: BUY OUR PRODUCTS!

The same jingle.  Silence.  Then a horn plays a small fanfare.

MAN 1:  The world is full of criminals and corrupt philanthropists.

MAN 2:  They take our money, burn our houses, replace our jobs with robots and eat our babies.

WOMAN:  Is there any one that can help us?!

NARRATOR: This sounds like a job for –

Theme music.

EVERYBODY: (with echo) CAPTAIN SOLECISTIC!

NARRATOR:  That’s right, CAPTAIN SOLECISTIC, THE ILLITERATE AVENGER!  When Ruby City’s top reporter Parker Gently accidentally angered Thoth the Egyptian God of Language by urinating on the reference desk in the library while drunk, he was cursed by having his ability to read stripped away!  But the same curse also granted him super strength, super hearing, mild toenail fungus, and an unquenchable thirst to fight crime!  Now he battles the forces of evil and stands for what is true and good and happy and . . . stuff. But he must keep his new powers hidden away or else!  What adventure will he get into today?!

The music changes from the theme to a jaunty tune.  The sounds of a newsroom.

NARRATOR:  We find our hero in the office of the Ruby Bugle’s editor-and-chief, Dirk Harpoon, dictating his latest story.

PARKER: “ . . . and he’ll never be able to abuse the good people of Ruby City ever again.”

CHIEF:  That’s a great story Gently, but it needs to be written down!  I can’t remember my wife’s name, let alone an entire story!

The phone rings.

CHIEF: (answering) Yeah?

RECEPTIONIST:  It’s Barbara on 3.

CHIEF:  Who?  I don’t know a Barbara.

RECEPTIONIST:  It’s your wife –

Dirk hangs up.

CHIEF:  You used to write all your stories down, then you suddenly stopped.  What’s the skinny on that?

PARKER:  But chief, it is written down.  That’s why Robbie is here.

ROBBIE:  (popping out from behind Parker)  HI YA CHIEF!

CHIEF:  Jesus the Lord Slurping Soda on the Cross, I didn’t even see ya kid.

PARKER:  You get all of that Robbie?

ROBBIE:  Yeah, I got it all Mr. Gently, but you sure do talk fast.  My hand’s cramping all up.

The sound of someone slapping Robbie.

CHIEF:  Shut up and be grateful.  When I started in the business, I acted as an eraser when they printed a mistake.  5000 copies of the Bugle corrected by me and my tongue.  And did you hear me complainin’?

ROBBIE:  No.

CHIEF:  That’s right!  The ink was made with lead back then and I would pass out before I could say a word.  Not that it mattered as my tongue would be useless for the next thirteen days and the fumes from the machines did a number on my memory.  (Pause.)  What was I just talking about?

PARKER:  You were saying how much you liked my story.

CHIEF:  Oh yeah.  But start writing it down!

PARKER:  Don’t worry chief, I got it covered.  (to Robbie)  There’s a good boy; here’s a condom.

ROBBIE:  Gee, thanks Mr. Gently.  And it’s new!

PARKER: Now walk that story to the printer.

ROBBIE:  I won’t just walk there Mr. Gently, I’ll run!

Robbie leaves.  A door opens and closes.

CHIEF:  What a slow news day!  Nothing is going on around here!

NARRATOR:  Just then who walks in?  Why it’s none other than –

A knock.  The door swings open.

PARKER:  Stacy Bateman, top columnist at the Ruby Bugle and currently having a torrid love affair with yours truly.

Pause.

STACY:  I hate that you say that every time I walk into the room, Parker.

CHIEF:  What is it Bateman?  I’m busy talking about how nothing is going on.

STACY:  Turn on your radio, Chief, you’ll want to hear this.

A radio is turned on.

REPORTER:  This just in!  A terrorist calling himself ‘The Jack of Trades’ is threatening to blow up a local building.  Here’s an excerpt from his message to the police now:

JACK:  I demand the city hand over to me ten million dollars in unmarked silver dollars by the end of the day, or I will blow up Ruby City’s beloved bourbon distillery!

CHIEF:  NO!

The chief falls over.

STACY:  Chief!

PARKER:  He’s fainted.

REPORTER:  At present, there are no authorities at the scene as they all have mysteriously fainted after hearing the message.  It seems that Ruby City’s whiskey days are coming to a close.

The radio is turned off.

PARKER:  We have to do something!

STACY:  But what can we, masters of the written word, do to stop a mad man like that?  In these situations, the ability to read and write doesn’t mean a darn.

The sound of more people falling over.

STACY:  Oh no, it looks like the art department has heard the news.  I’m to go and help.

PARKER:  Reading doesn’t mean a darn?  Well, this looks like a job for –

An explosion, and a trumpet flare.

CAPTAIN:  – CAPTAIN SOLESISTIC, THE ILLITERATE AVENGER!  I have to stop The Jack of Trades before it’s too late.  The radio says he’s at the bourbon distillery, so I only have to look at a map!

He unfolds a map.  Pause.

CAPTAIN:  Damn.  I forgot that maps must be read.  This villain is more dastardly than I thought; always one step ahead.  It looks like I’ll once again need to turn to my old nemesis to help me in my quest to help save the city.

Dramatic music.

NARRATOR:  Who is this mysterious nemesis?  And can the Captain trust him, or will he be betrayed?  Who is the Jack of Trades, and why does he want to blow up all the sweet, lovely, life-giving whiskey?  Will the Captain be able to find his way to the distillery before it’s too late?  (pause)  You might want to get on that, by the way –

CAPTAIN:  Oh.  Right.  Up, up, and to places!

Sound of a glass breaking as the Captain jumps through the window.

NARRATOR:  For the answers to these questions and more, tune in next week for the exciting conclusion of CAPTAIN SOLECISTIC: THE ILLITERATE AVENGER!!!  Now a word from our sponsor.

SPONSOR:  Got a fresh apple pie waiting to be served?  Got some cocoa that isn’t quite ready?  Got a lonely Friday night and no friends?  Then get Hick’s All Natural Whipped Cream, the only whipped cream made with real ingredients, magic, fairy dust, and minute traces of LSD.  Hick’s Whipped Cream – Made with real cream, by real hicks, with real whips.

Radio clicks off.—Script to be concluded next week.  Created with Time For More Cake; check out his blog. —

Infomercial for Nerd-B-Gone

Two guys are sitting on a park bench, talking.

GUY 1: Yeah, you know, I don’t really like Battlestar Galactica.  It’s so transparent and –

GUY 2: FUCK YOU AND ANYONE THAT LOOKS LIKE YOU!

ANNOUNCER:  Are you a nerd?  Do you get violently angry when your friends dislike the movie or tv show or comic book or band that you like?  Then try Nerd-B-Gone, the latest pharmaceutical that helps abate your geeky rage.

Two other guys walking down the street.

GUY 3:  Firefly is so overrated.

Guy 4 kicks Guy 3 in the groin and runs off.

GUY 4:  I try to understand my friends, but their opinions are wrong and I can’t handle it.

ANNOUNCER:  Not anymore!  With the help of Nerd-B-Gone, you too can have a normal conversation.  When a dork hears an opinion that is a dissenting view point, the opinion travels through the ears and into the brain, where is activates the rage center of the brain and sends messages to the mouth and body to create a violent reaction.  Nerd-B-Gone blocks these signals sent out from the brain, and replaces them with polite comments.

Two guys at a restaurant.

GUY 5:  Alan Moore?  I thought all comic books were about stupid superheros.

Guy 6 begins to say something, then stops.  His face turns beet red, and he begins to tremble and foam at the mouth slightly.

GUY 6: (having difficulty speaking) . . . that is . . . a valid opinion . . . how . . . how . . . thoughtful of you to say so . . .

Guy 6 passes out.

ANNOUNCER:  With Nerd-B-Gone, you can rejoin polite society!  Warning: Nerd-B-Gone may cause brain hemorrhaging, aneurysms, dry mouth, constipation, an increase in stupid and inane friends, and rectal bleeding.  Talk to your doctor today to see if Nerd-B-Gone is right for you!

 

The ASPS Talks Science

SPOKESPERSON: We here at ASPS want to make sure that parents understand the proper way to teach science and natural observation to their children.  Introducing science is important to a young mind and can heavily influence their view of the real wonders that are all around them.  But an improper method will not only fail to teach children, but may turn them against learning science further in their lives, as seen in the following examples.

EXAMPLE #1
DAUGHTER 1: Daddy, why is the sky blue?
FATHER 1: Something about the atmosphere, I don’t know, fuck you.

EXAMPLE #2
DAUGHTER 2: Mommy, where do babies come from?
MOTHER 1:  Penis.  Vagina.  Semen.  Then you, and the end of everything that was good and pure and fun about my life!

EXAMPLE #3
SON 1: Mommy, what’s two plus two?
MOTHER 2: About the amount of hours I locked you in the closet last night.

SPOKESPERSON: As you can see, not only have these parents not answered the questions posed to them by their inquisitive children, but they do so in a manner that is off-putting to subsequent questions.  Children must be encouraged to ask such questions, and must also be given answers and have them illustrated in such a way to make them easy to understand, as seen here.

EXAMPLE #4
SON 2: Daddy, what’s Newton’s Third Law of Motion.
The Father 2 looks at his son, pauses, and then promptly punches him in the face.

SPOKESPERSON:  As you can see, the parent both answered the child’s question while providing an accompanying example.  And the answer was so succinct that the parent did not even have to use words.  So please, remember this when considering teaching your children the science of the natural world.

TITLE CARD: Brought to by ASPS – The Association of Sloppy Parenting Styles.

“You’re 9 and you still haven’t mastered imaginary numbers? Fuck, you’re stupid boy.”

Phil & Rosco Glance Into History

Phil and Rosco sit in a living room.  Phil is reading a newspaper, while Rosco is setting up the board game Mousetrap.

PHIL: Hmmm, well what do you know?  Apparently, George Washington borrowed two books from a New York Library and never returned them.

ROSCO:  Really?

PHIL:  Yeah.  In 1789, which is the year he became president, he borrowed “Law of Nations,” a dissertation on international relations, and a volume of debate transcripts from Britain’s House of Commons, and never returned them.

ROSCO:  Wow.

PHIL:  He didn’t even sign his name.  Just put down “President”.

Silence.

PHIL:  I don’t know how to feel about this.

ROSCO:  Well if the sonofabitch became the first president of America that year, he probably thought he could do whatever the fuck he wanted.  Still, he was so honorable or whatever, that all he could manage to do was not return some free books.

PHIL:  I wonder if he felt guilty afterwards.

ROSCO:  (in a low gruff voice) You know what, Martha? I ain’t fuckin returning these.  (in a high-pitched voice) I don’t know George – (in a low gruff voice) No, fuck it. I’m the President; the library can suck my dick.

PHIL:  I think his behavior set the bar pretty low for those to follow.

ROSCO:  I think this has been a big fucking government secret.  Someone definitely lost their job and/or life over letting this little factoid slip out to the public.

PHIL: (chuckling) National Treasure 3: The Lost Tomes of GW

ROSCO:  And the BIGGER secret is that presidents have been taking books ever since then, and that is how the Library of Congress really started.

Pause.  Phil slowly puts down his paper, wide-eyed.

PHIL: (softly)  Oh shit . . .that makes intuitive sense.

ROSCO: We’re through the looking glass, Phil.  We need to watch our backs.

They each tentatively look around the room, waiting to see if something happens.  When nothing does, they go back to what they were doing.  Pause.

ROSCO:  I bet all they were looking for was porn.

PHIL: For sure.

“I’m president; the library can suck my dick.”

Because Donald Duck and I Share the Same Birthday . . . Which Is Today

JOE: I’ve just acquired 92 Donald Duck cartoons, which I plan to watch every single one of them multiple times.  Perhaps one day you will join me in this venture.

NIC: yes, Yes, YES!  OH GOD YES!

JOE: I’m hoping the process will provide some sage-like insight to the gradual decline of American optimism; how we all departed from a Mickey-like composure and into a Donald-like chaotic mélange of fruitless goals met with sporadic moments of suffering.

NIC: But is Donald really the appropriate character to describe the state of affairs today?  Self-centered, angry, selfish, and petty at times, yes; but there is a blaséness today.  Donald, in the end, would always step to.

JOE: Okay, so maybe Donald is the 80s and 90s, the transition of fruitlessness to which we now react with blasé.  Donald is the Grunge, or Grunge is the reaction to Donald.  Basically I think the appeal of Donald is that he’s Mickey’s antithesis, but not antagonist.   So he’s one of the 20th century’s first cases of a widely recognized antihero.  In other words: He’s the shit.

NIC: He is definitely the shit.  Disney’s first antihero for sure.  And he dresses like a sailor, so I’m sure he gets laid all the time.

JOE: So I’ve calculated and it would take us about 11 hours to watch all of them.

NIC: Sounds like a weekend well spent.  Of course, who knows what 11 straight hours of Disney cartoons will do to our brains?

JOE: Walt does . . . did . . . no, DOES.

NIC: Either he never died, or he is living in some underground bunker, his brain kept in a supercomputer, where he monitors his vast empires and waits for the day when he can strike down every current political power and take control over the entire earth.  Then it will truly be a Disneyworld.  Frankly, I cannot wait for that day, simply on the fact that I would save money on ticket prices.

Reservations Are Important

A restaurant host stands at a dais, looking at a reservation log.  Jim walks up slowly.

JIM:  Hello?

HOST:  Good Evening sir, and welcome to The Dreamscape Lounge.  I will be your host . . . .

JIM:   . . . yes?

HOST:  I’m sorry sir, but I usually draw my name from the sleeper’s subconscious, usually a parental figure, but your mind seems to be blank.

JIM:  Well, I did get pretty stoned before I nodded off . . .

HOST:  Ahhh.  Yes.  Well, in that case, we can move on to available seats.

JIM:  What do you have open?

HOST: I’m afraid there’s not much left.  We have . . . let’s see . . . we have three rooms available – Demonic clowns with chainsaws, Sleeping with your mother, and . . . hmmm, there’s not much elaboration on this one, all it says is WOLVES & FIRE.

JIM: (hesitating)  Isn’t there anything else?

HOST:  I’m afraid not sir.

JIM:  No awesome dreams where I’m Luke Skywalker?

HOST:  That dream ran out yesterday afternoon.

JIM:  How about that one dream with me, Scarlet Johannson and a stick of butter?

HOST:  A unique one, but Miss Johannson has been booked for a month.

JIM:  How about . . . eating pizza?

HOST:  I’m afraid the chef is on vacation.

JIM:  Oh.

HOST:  All that is left is what I have listed here.  You really should have reserved a dream ahead of time sir.

JIM:  I’ll try to remember that.

HOST:  I would send you to the hole of blackness, to float aimlessly until you awake, but unfortunately the hole is on the fritz again.  We’ve sent out a call to the technician, but he won’t be here until morning.

JIM:  Blast.

HOST:  So, sir . . . what will it be?

Jim ponders.  He looks around to make sure no one is watching.

JIM:  (quietly)  Ahem –  I’ll . . . I’ll have sex with my mother.

HOST:  Yes.  I would have chosen the wolves myself, but to each their own.  (he sees Jim’s shame on his face)  Don’t fret, sir.  You would be surprised just how many people choose this option, so there is no worry to feel so ashamed.  That is what dreamscapes are here for – to explore every option that is available to you.  And besides, from what I have on file here, your mother is quite an attractive woman.

JIM:  (quietly) Yes . . . yes she is . . .

HOST:  (handing Jim a key)  Here is your room key.  There will complimentary mints waiting outside your door when you are finished, along with the Memory Erasing Pill and a glass of water if you would prefer to forget your visit to this establishment tonight.

JIM:  Thank you.

HOST:  My pleasure, sir.  Have a wonderful evening, and I hope you will join us again soon here at The Dreamscape Lounge.

Jim walks into the restaurant, still looking around to make sure know one else has seen this transaction.