| “Welcome to Lucha Libre Night at the Taco Bell Arena in Chihuahua, Mexico. I’m Edificio Del Huevo, your color commentator, and I’ll be assisted by six-time Mexican female mud wrestling champion, Rosita La Chingada.” “¡Hola amigos!” “We’ll be reporting on the hugely anticipated grudge match tonight between Mexican champion Comandante Marco and his American rival, El Grande Bush. There’s a lot at stake in this battle for North American supremacy, wouldn’t you say, Rosie?” “¡Ooooh sííííí! Mexico has been pushing for a rematch since 1846, when the malditos gringos cabrones put a gun to our heads and made us sign over Texas and California. Now if we want to go there for a vacation we have to swim through rat-infested sewer pipes, and mutherfuckers telling us ‘Speak English! Speak English!’ I like English. I luv it! But I don’t need no gringo mutherfucker breathin’ down my neck. “Anyway, if Comandante Marco wins the match tonight, we gonna get back all our land and then we be telling you cocksuckers to speak Spanish. “I know the first thing I’m gonna do when we take over is to move into the Presidential Suite at the Venetian Hotel in Las Vegas and go skinny-dipping in the Grand Canal. Show the mutherfuckers what a real Mexican chocha looks like!” “Sounds good to me, Rosie, but as they say ‘Don’t count your huevos rancheros before they’re hatched.’ Remember, the norteamericanos are not going to give up all that loot without a fight. “And as we speak, El Grande Bush is entering the ring. He’s wearing his trademark pink tu-tu, dunce cap and glitter mask, and they’re playing his music, ‘Cheeseburger in Paradise.’” “Hey, Bushie, Bushie! Can we get a word from you for our studio audience?” “Waal, I’d like to address my remarks to the brave men and women fighting in Eye-Rack for the forty-second consecutive year. I honor the sacrifice you are making in the war on terror, and I want you to know that I plan to win tonight so that when you come home you’ll have a home to come home to. “The threat we are facing in this arena here tonight is whether our western states will remain The Home of The Free And The Brave, or are allowed to become an open-air taco stand like the one on Alvarado Street in downtown LA, where the crackheads and stray dogs hang out, behind the convention center.” “How inspiring! What’s your strategy for fighting Comandante Marco?" “I plan to shock and awe him with my lightning speed, twist his head in the ropes and bite his knuckles.” “Excuse me, Ed, cut out that shit. Here comes Mexico’s national hero, Comandante Marco of the Zapatista Revolutionary Army of Chiapas. He looks ready for battle with his headdress of quetzal feathers, jaguar-skin tights and crocodile nose mask. His musical accompaniment is the Mexico City rock band Molotov singing their anthem ''Viva México Cabrones.' Every time I hear that song it brings tears of pride to my eyes, especially the part where they sing ‘No Me Llames Cerdo.’ When I was a leetle girl in the shantytown overlooking the security wall separating Nuevo Laredo from Brownsville, Texas, my mother used to lull me to sleep by singing to me from Molotov’s romantic love song ‘Chinga Tu Madre’, where they sing: Nos vemos Acapulco a la fin de semana Mientras yo cuido à tu hermana Chinga tú chinga tu madre [Ed. See you in Acapulco But first I fuck your sister] “Hey, big boy! You got something to say to your fans?” “Hola, Rosie. I dedicate my life to the glory of Mexico. After I win, not only are we going to reconquer our lost territories, but we are going to sacrifice El Grande Bush on the ancient Mayan altar at Chichen Itzà by ripping out his still beating heart and feeding it to the pirhana fish that swim in the holy cenote. The whole ceremony is going to be filmed by Mel Gibson for his upcoming movie “Jews of The Jungle.” “Sounds great, sweetie. Only how do you plan to vanquish such a great warrior like El Grande Bush?” “I plan to shoot him with a curare-tipped blow dart and then, when he’s paralyzed, I’m going to stomp on his balls.” “And there’s the bell! The two fighters are circling each other warily, looking for an opening, and they are being watched by the masked referee, El Misterioso, who is also wearing a mask. Ed, what do we know about El Misterioso?” “Only that he gained fame as the fiercest lucha libre fighter in South America.” “Wow! Now El Grande Bush leaps forward and head butts Comandante Marco in the chest, but instead of falling onto the mat El Comandante does a backflip, kicking Bush in the face. Bush goes down and Comandante Marco sits on his face, locking him in a French Butt Hold, squeezing the air out of Bush like an Anaconda python between the steel vise grip of his powerful glutes.” “With his last, dying breath Bush reaches between Marco’s legs and manages to insert his two fingers in the man’s nostrils and flip him across the ring like a slingshot. Bush jumps to his feet and delivers a shattering roundkick to the head of El Comandante, who goes flying into El Misterioso who, enraged, punches him in the face. Hey, he’s not supposed to do that. He’s the ref!” “Wait a minute! Now El Misterioso grabs a folding chair and breaks it over the head of El Grande Bush.” “The audience is going berserk. The mariachi band Los Tigres Del Norte has started playing the romantic sentimental love song ‘Volver’, I suppose expressing their wish for a return of Mexico’s northern territories. Meantime, on the American side, Ted Nugent is shooting off machine gun riffs from his guitar. Oh no, that’s not his guitar, it’s a real machine gun! Now gunfire is breaking out all over the place and bullets are flying.” “Comandante Marco and El Grande Bush have recovered from the surprise attack by El Misterioso, and they’re punching the shit out of him in the corner of the ring. They rip off his mask.” “Omigod, it’s Hugo Chavez, the president of Venezuela, and he’s got an oil gusher shooting out of his butt!” “Well, let’s get out of here before the whole place explodes. Reporting to you from Taco Bell Arena, I’m Edificio Del Huevo.” “And I’m Rosita La Chingada…” “Wishing you a big cuevo en el culo, cabrones!” |
CHUCHA LIBRE
| 200motels POLITICS |
| Comedy |
| Tragedy |
| Nonsense |
| Bullshit |
| BAM BAM BAM LARRY - Who’s there? LANDLORD - It’s the landlord! [Larry opens door] LANDLORD – You got the rent money yet? LARRY – Not yet boss. LANDLORD – Well, if I don’t get my money by tomorrow you and those other two clowns are evicted. LARRY – OK, boss. [slams door] [Moe and Curley emerge from hiding behind the sofa] LARRY – Where are we gonna’ get the money? MOE – Don’t worry. Look what I got here! [Moe produces a flyer] $1,000 PRIZE AMATEUR HIP-HOP CONTEST TONIGHT APOLLO THEATER 125th STREET, HARLEM LARRY – But Moe, we don’t know anything about music. MOE – Relax, I’ve got it all figured out. First we need some cool clothes. Curley, put these pants on. CURLEY – OK, Moe. [Puts on pants] Moe, these pants are too short and they’re falling down around my butt! MOE – That’s the look. Where did you get those yellow drawers? CURLEY - They used to be white. MOE – [smacks Curley] Why, you pig! You’re disgusting! CURLEY – You say the sweetest things! [kisses Moe] MOE – Why you… [tries to poke two fingers in Curley’s eyes, but Curley is too fast. He protects his face with his hand] CURLEY – Nyuk nyuk! [Moe swings his arm around like a propeller and hits Curley on the head like a hammer] BONK! CURLEY – That smarts! MOE – Now shut up and put on this shirt. CURLEY – That ain’t a shirt, it’s a dress! [puts on shirt] Moe, this shirt is hanging down to my ankles. MOE – You look cool. Now we need some earrings for you. CURLEY – Earrings are for girls. I’m not a girl! MOE – If you don’t shut up and do what I tell you, I’m gonna turn you into a girl in about one minute. Now, what can we use for earrings? LARRY – All we’ve got are some paper clips and some animal crackers. MOE – Well, we’ll have to hang the animal crackers from Curley’s ears with the paper clips. CURLEY – Good idea! Then if I get hungry, I can eat my earrings. [puts the animal crackers on his ears] MOE – Now we need to get you a chain for around your neck. We’ll use Rover’s dog chain. Larry, get one of the hubcaps from the kitchen to hang from the chain. LARRY – But Moe, those hubcaps are what we’re using for dishes. MOE – We’ll have to eat out of the Frisbee. [attaches the hubcap to the dog chain and hangs it around Curley’s neck] Not bad… Now we just need to put a do-rag on your head. CURLEY – What’s a do-rag? MOE – Don’t you know anything? When you get your hair processed you put a do-rag over it to protect your conk. CURLEY – But Moe, I ain’t got no hair! LARRY – What are we gonna use for a do-rag? MOE – Go steal a pair of pantyhose from Mrs. Murphy’s clothesline. [Moe ties the pantyhose on Curley’s head] MOE – Now, cop an attitude. CURLEY – What’s that? MOE – You have to be nasty and threatening. CURLEY – [barks like a dog] Grrr! Ruff ruff ruff! MOE – No, you have to be mean enough to scare people into thinking you want to kill them. CURLEY – But Moe, I’m a happy person. My parents owned a candy store and I always had all the candy I wanted. My mother used to feed me six meals a day. I don’t have a mean bone in my body! MOE – Try to imagine that your father went to prison and your mother was a crack addict. You lived in a cardboard box under the 125th Street Bridge and rats bit your face when you were sleeping. CURLEY – [crying] Boo-hoo-hoo! MOE – Alright, This is not working. Larry, go get that bottle of castor oil from the medicine cabinet. [holds Curley’s nose and pours the whole bottle of castor oil down his throat] CURLEY – Yuck, ugh, hack hack, cough, shit! MOE – Now you got it! Now make some hand signals. CURLEY – Like what? MOE – Like you’re a TV antenna and you’re trying to improve reception so we can watch the Knicks game. CURLEY – Like this? MOE – Yeah, exactly! Now start dancing. Make believe you’re a Halloween skeleton on a string. CURLEY – How’s this, Moe? MOE – Nah, that’s too much like real dancing. Make like you’re an epileptic having a grand mal fit. No no no! That’s not jerky enough. Wait, I’ll help you. [goes over to the desk and takes out a jar labeled “Brazilian Fire Ants”] [to Larry] I was saving this for an emergency and I guess this is it. [Moe unscrews the jar and empties the fire ants into Curley’s pants] [Curley starts jumping around like a lunatic] CURLEY – Wheep wheep wheep! Oh oh! Yadda yadda yadda! Oh no, oh no, oh no! [Curley starts smacking his body with his hands, rolling around on the floor, raises himself to a sitting position and drags himself across the floor on his butt] LARRY - It looks like he’s getting the hang of it pretty good. MOE – He better, or tomorrow night we’ll be sleeping on a subway grating. [Scene fades to backstage at the Apollo Theater. The Stooges are dressed identically, and all three are wearing wraparound sunglasses] STAGE MANAGER – You boys are on next. Are you ready? MOE – Just one more thing, boss. [pulls open the top of Curley’s shirt and throws in an electric eel. Curley’s shirt starts flashing and smoke and crackling noises come out of it] ANNOUNCER – And now, ladies and gentlemen, direct from the secret underground dumps under the White Castle on Nostrand Avenue in Brooklyn, The Funky Stooges! AUDIENCE – Yay! [The Stooges go onstage, Larry and Moe strutting back and forth like a chorus line while Curley, shocked to shit by the electric eel in his shirt, does a St. Vitus dance at center stage] LARRY and MOE – We may not be pretty but we the crew that never loses That’s why the women call us the Funky Stooges Larry Moe and Curley are our given names Makin’ love to pretty girls is our only aim We may all be dummies who never went to school Maybe we are stupid but we think that is cool STOOPID – that’s our middle name STOOPID – being dummies is our game STOOPID – we can’t read or write STOOPID – we love to drink and fight S-T-O-O-P-I-D That’s how were meant to be D-U-M-M-M-I-E Brainless idiocy We don’t work or go to school We just goof off like a fool We too smart to get a job We would rather steal and rob We will never go to Yale We would rather go to jail AUDIENCE – Yay! ANNOUNCER - Well, you boys are the winners. Now, before we award you the thousand dollars, tell us: who is your favorite rapper? 50 cent? Jay-Z? CURLEY – We like Clifford the Big Red Dog. AUDIENCE – [shocked] Gasp! [The Stooges get booted out the back door into the alley] LARRY – Oooh, we lost the money! MOE – [to Curley] Who told you to open yer big yap? CURLEY – I’m a baaaaad boooy! MOE – Why you…. [chases Curley around the alley] Scene fades. THE END |
| THE THREE STOOGES SING HIP-HOP |
| 200motels MUSIC |
| Comedy |
| Tragedy |
| Nonsense |
| Bullshit |
