User:RAHB/Scrambled Eggs: Sexy Or Not Sexy

Hello... Good morning. Good day. Good evening. How'da'ya do? Great weather we're having, Barry. Top o' the afternoon. How dost this day find you? What's all this then? There's a good boy, put it back. Good after-evening. Night morninggood. Appalachian honeycombs. All pleasant wishes in thy direction. Have a lovely night. Sanskrit. And, as always, hello.

On last week's program, which was actually an article masquerading as a program, which was actually a fictional article masquerading as a program which does not exist but is still quite pertinent to the state of affairs of the present moment, we examined the significance of East Germany's current efforts to resuscitate the floundering global economy by way of developing a system in which fish the world over would have their DNA genetically re-engineered by some of France's top biological tinkerers into that of gold. Once again, we do apologize for the outburst by the Reverend, and have sent him off for a long sit in the corner, because he's been a very naughty boy. Isn't that right, Reverend Gibbons?

Grumble, grumble...

However, references to last week's pseudo-show aside...and let me just say that I find it positively annoying that anyone would tune into a program one week expecting lighthearted chit-chat carrying right on from the end of the last program. You people do have a Television Guide, don't you? Or at the very least a newspaper, or an internet connection! Our listings are located right across the front of our web-page in boldest print so as you won't be confused as to which episodes are airing in which week. As you can see on the site map, situated on the wall behind me.

<insert here a picture of a man at a desk, with a military conquest style pull-down map lowered on the wall behind him displaying a crudely drawn area of land labeled "INTERNET" with a big red circle around a city labeled "Our Local Listings", and a caption reading "No, farther to the left. But never mind that.">

Now, what we'll be talking about on this week's articlegram is the craze that's been sweeping the nation ten times over and shows no sign of stopping, allowing a great deal of torment to those with a tendency for dizzy spells, Scrambled Eggs.

Yes. Scrambled Eggs

Are they sexy? Are they not sexy? Are they somewhere in between? Are they somewhere in the mountains? Are they somewhere else? These questions have plagued philosophers for well over twenty minutes and show no sign of stopping, that is of course until next week's scheduled media outcry that is and looks to be involved with the soon to be hot subject of false appendixes, and their viability as a fashion accessory.

Here with me tonight are fictionally renowned non-fiction writers Wilfred Q. Layabout, author of the tremendous New York Times best-seller You'd Better Have A Permit To Carry That Albumen, and Professor Grover H. Grover, registered Grover Grover and author of the New York Times worst-seller and subsequently best seller, My Lord, Is It Hot In Here, Or Is It Just The Menopause?: A Book About The Korean War. Gentlemen, welcome to the show.

"How do you pleased to be meeting seeing you here there John."

"This pizza is cold."

Gentlemen, I realize it's quite a minefield out there in the untamed and uncivilized world of protein, but for a few minutes tonight you can rest assured in your confidentiality and really give us the big, unadulterated, uncensored, unmonitored scoop on this most secretive of discussions. To aid us in this quest for confidentiality, for the next three minutes, we will be shutting off the studio lights. And, go!

<same two pictures, considerably darkened, with captions involving the two men rambling on incessantly and incoherently about nothing involving the sexiness of scrambled eggs, or anything else remotely understandable for that matter, but very silly>

Marvelous! Just marvelous! House lights back on! Now, before we delve any deeper into the subject at hand, I'd like to ask you both a very personal question...is that alright? May I ask you both a very personal question.

"Absolutely not! Well, I never!"

"You'll have to take me to dinner first, Sargent."

Splendid! So the first question will be going to you, Mr. Grover...Doctor Grover...Doctor? Professor? Yes! That's it! Baker! So, as I was saying Professor, what are your views on sex before marriage?

"I can't see a thing wrong with it so long as all the surrounding foliage has been taken into consideration. Can get a welt, you can. I say."

I thought you might say that, Minister. Carrying on to your personal question, Mr. Layabout...What do you get when you cross a surrealist with an absurdist?

Mr. Layabout carries on incoherently about chipped-beef pudding and the fires in Atlantis

Right!

More to the point, gentlemen. What are we to do about the debate concerning the sexiness or non-sexiness or sexlessness or sexfullness or sexalation or sexatorical or mangrove, associated with the common scrambled egg? The bountiful possibilities are boundless - no. The boundless possibilities are bountifulness - no. The possibilities are quite arousing. Right, yes. Endless. The endlessness is quite arousing. What say you?

brief explanation of the second law of thermodynamics

brief explanation of the second law of thermodynamics

DING! DING! DING! I'm afraid that's all the time we have for you, Professor Grover. Thank you for being on the show, and it's off to the lion's den with you. While we still have you here, Mr. Layabout, would you care to expound upon your previous expunges? Although, I must say it is quite a shame that the Professor is currently being devoured alive by several large cats, as I found his views quite a bit more insightful than yours. You have ten seconds, and go.

".........."

Time's up! You've won our grand prize, Mr. Layabout. Congratulations, and here are your twenty-seven blank automobile license plates. Yes, that's right. Winchester Blank Automobile License Plates, the blank automobile license plate manufacture who asks no questions as long as you pay half up front. We'll be taking the plates out the back and, as we do with all contestants' winnings on our show, set fire to them, shortly.

In the meantime, Mr. Layabout, I'd like to ask you about the growing tension between conservatives and liberals in American...Mr. Layabout? You appear to be foaming.

<Mr. Layabout's image, with foam now around his mouth, captioned with "What?">

I say, you appear to be foaming.

<Same image. "Oh. Well, that's no good, is it?>
<Similar image, layabout is now holding a large cleaver>
<Similar image, he has now cut off the front of his face. "That takes care of that then, doesn't it?">

It certainly does, sir, and might I say, the clean-shaven look is a good one for you. Well, I'm afraid that's all we have left for tonight. Please join us for next week's program in which we will be examining Priscilla Presley's left breast. Goodnight. Farewell. Poppycock. Adios. Grand piano. Etcetera.

No Lions were harmed during the making of this program. But they were terribly arousing.

<image of blackness>

And now, the Liberty Belles.

<image of three of the Liberty Bell, modified to look like a female singing trio from the age of the early sixties or so, something like that, with the matching skirts and such, and the caption will probably be some lyrics that sound like those written by a teenage girl group at the time, but with puns on bells and liberty>

THE END

<Image stating "THE EN", while at the bottom, a D-shaped corpse is being picked at by lions>