| Greggery:
|
| Oh, here comes GREGGERY
|
| Little GREGGERY PECCARY
|
| The nocturnal gregarious
|
| Wild swine
|
| Narrator:
|
| A peccary is a little pig with a white collar that usually hangs around between
|
| Texas and Paraguay, sometimes ranging as far west as Catalina
|
| Greggery:
|
| Catalina, Catalina, Catalina!
|
| Narrator:
|
| This particular peccary is part of that bold
|
| Greggery:
|
| Bold
|
| Narrator:
|
| New
|
| Greggery:
|
| New
|
| Narrator:
|
| Breed
|
| Greggery:
|
| Breeding
|
| Narrator:
|
| That distinguishes itself by markings which resemble a WIDE TIE directly below
|
| the white collar
|
| Greggery:
|
| If it’s wide enough
|
| Everyone will know
|
| That the tie I’m wearing
|
| Is a symbol
|
| Of how nimble my mind will know
|
| Ooh-ooh!
|
| Narrator:
|
| (Swank suave!)
|
| Greggery:
|
| Hoon-hoon hoonna-han
|
| Hoonna hoonna
|
| Narrator:
|
| Look out!
|
| Here he comes again!
|
| Greggery:
|
| Oh here comes GREGGERY PECCARY
|
| Yes it’s cravy, cravy, yeah
|
| Hoonna-han
|
| Hoonna-han
|
| Narrator:
|
| Every morning, GREGGERY drives his little red Volkswagen to the ugly part of
|
| town where they keep the Government Buildings
|
| Greggery:
|
| Voodn, Voodn!
|
| Boy it’s so hard to find a place to park around here!
|
| Voo-voo-voo-nya-hoon
|
| Narrator:
|
| GREGGERY PECCARY takes the elevator up to the eighty-third floor of a grim,
|
| gray, evil-looking building with a sign on the front reading: 'BIG SWIFTY &
|
| ASSOCIATES, TREND-MONGERS'
|
| And what, might you ask, is a TREND MONGER? |
| Well, a TREND MONGER is a person
|
| who dreams up a TREND (like 'The Twist'—or 'Flower Power'), and spreads it
|
| throughout the land, using all the frightening little skills that Science has
|
| made available!
|
| And so it was, one fateful morning, GREGGERY PECCARY made his way through the
|
| Steno Pool
|
| Greggery:
|
| Hi Mildred!
|
| Hello Gladys!
|
| WANDA!
|
| Narrator:
|
| Yes, from the moment they laid eyes on him, all the girls in the BIG SWIFTY
|
| Steno Pool KNEW. |
| .. here was a nocturnal, gregarious wild swine ON HIS WAY UP
|
| .. . |
| a PECCARY of Destiny, Adventure and ROMANCE
|
| Greggery:
|
| Is there any mail for me?
|
| Stenographers:
|
| SWIFTY’S!
|
| THIS IS BIG SWIFTY’S!
|
| AT BIG SWIFTY’S WE ALL KNOW-OW-OW
|
| (WO-WO)
|
| YOU’LL GO
|
| FOR ANY GIMMICK OR GIZMO!
|
| Greggery:
|
| WOULDN’T YOU RATHER BE INVOLVED
|
| IN A SERIES OF COLORFUL
|
| TIME-WASTING TRENDS?
|
| Narrator:
|
| AIR HOCKEY. |
| .. biff. |
| .. dush-h-h!
|
| Stenographers:
|
| LA-LA-LA-LA-LA-LA-LA-LA
|
| YOUP YOUP YOUP YOUP
|
| Greggery:
|
| IS YOUR WIFE SNORING BY THE SINK?
|
| Stenographers:
|
| LA-LA-LA-LA-LA-LA-LA-LA
|
| YOUP YOUP YOUP YOUP
|
| Greggery:
|
| AIN’T YOUR LIFE BORING, DON’TCHA THINK?
|
| Stenographers:
|
| YOUP YOUP YOUP-YOUP-YOUP YOUP YOUP
|
| Greggery:
|
| LIFE IS SO MUCH BETTER
|
| WHEN THERE’S SOME LITTLE SOMETHING
|
| TO DO!
|
| Narrator:
|
| Does it matter that this waste of time is what makes a LIFE for you? |
| Hmmmmm?
|
| Greggery:
|
| I must plummet boldly forward to my ultra-avant laminated, simulated
|
| replica-mahogany desk, with the strategically-placed, imported, very hip water
|
| pipe, and the latest edition of the WHOLE EARTH CATALOG, and rack my agile mind
|
| for a spectacular new TREND, thereby rejuvenating our limping economy,
|
| and providing for bored & miserable people everywhere some great new 'THING'
|
| to identify with!
|
| Stenographers:
|
| WE HAVE GOT THE LITTLE ANSWERS
|
| TO THE THINGS
|
| THAT MIGHT BE BOTHERING YOU!
|
| Greggery:
|
| WE HAVE GOT YOUR LITTLE TOYS!
|
| Stenographers:
|
| (WE'RE BUSY MAKIN' 'EM!)
|
| BUSY MAKIN' 'EM
|
| WE’RE BUSY MAKIN' 'EM
|
| Greggery:
|
| BUSY MAKIN' EM
|
| Stenographers:
|
| JUST FOR YOU!
|
| Yoo-hoo-hoo!
|
| Greggery:
|
| Highly efficient, Miss Snodgrass!
|
| Narrator:
|
| And with that, GREGGERY turned and strode nonchalantly into his dinky little
|
| office with the desk and the catalog and the very hip water pipe, and proceeded,
|
| with a vigor and determination known only to piglets of a similarly diminutive
|
| proportion, to single-handedly invent THE CALENDAR!
|
| With his eyes rolled heaven-ward, and his little shiny pig-hoofs on the desk,
|
| GREGGERY ponders the question of ETERNITY (and fractional divisions thereof),
|
| as mysterious ANGELIC VOICES sing to him from a great distance,
|
| providing the necessary clues for the construction of this thrilling new TREND!
|
| Angelic Voices:
|
| SUNDAY
|
| Greggery:
|
| Sunday?
|
| WOW!
|
| SUNDAY, SATURDAY. |
| .. TUESDAY THROUGH
|
| 'MONDAY—MONDAY'! |
| SUNDAY, SATURDAY
|
| Narrator:
|
| And thus THE CALENDAR, in all of its colorful disguises was presented to the
|
| bored & miserable people everywhere!
|
| GREGGERY issued a memo on it, whereupon the entire contents of the Steno Pool
|
| identified with it STRENUOUSLY, and WORSHIPPED IT as a WAY OF LIFE,
|
| and took their little pills by it, and went back 'n forth from work by it,
|
| and paid their rent by it, and before long they were even having BIRTHDAY
|
| PARTIES IN THE OFFICE by it, because NOW, AT LAST, GREGGERY PECCARY’s exciting
|
| new invention had made it possible for everyone to find out HOW OLD THEY WERE!
|
| Greggery:
|
| What hath GOD wrought?
|
| Narrator:
|
| Unfortunately, there were some people who simply DID NOT WISH TO KNOW,
|
| and that’s why, on his way home from the office one night, GREGGERY was
|
| attacked by a RAGE OF HUNCHMEN!
|
| Making his way through the evening traffic, GREGGERY notices that the other
|
| vehicles which crowd and bump his little red car are all inhabited by
|
| slowly-aging 'VERY HIP YOUNG PEOPLE.'
|
| They appear to be casting sinister glances toward him through their glinting
|
| acid burn-out eyeballs, trying to run him off the road, or make him bump into
|
| something. |
| .. giving strong evidence of HOSTILE AGGRESSION!
|
| To elude them, GREGGERY takes the SHORT FOREST EXIT off the expressway.
|
| They zoom after him in all manner of cars, trucks, garishly-painted buses,
|
| and motorcycles
|
| GREGGERY takes a bumpy trail off the main SHORT FOREST ROAD, which leads him up
|
| the side of a FAMOUS (and conveniently placed) MOUNTAIN, and into a strange
|
| cave on the edge of a cliff, not far from a LITTLE TWISTED TREE. |
| ..
|
| with eyes on it
|
| Meanwhile, the enraged HUNCHMEN (and HUNCH-WOMEN) rumble through the SHORT
|
| FOREST until (realizing the little swine has escaped), they decide to park
|
| their steaming vehicles in a circular pseudo-Wagon Train formation. |
| ..
|
| and have a LOVE-IN!
|
| Under the influence of a fantastic amount of TRENDY CHEMICAL AMUSEMENT AID,
|
| they proceed to perform lewd acts, rip each other off for small personal
|
| possessions, and dance with depraved abandon in the vicinity of a six-foot pile
|
| of transistor radios (each one tuned to a different station)
|
| Greggery:
|
| WHAT?
|
| Narrator:
|
| The HUNCHMEN finally expire from exhaustion, and GREGGERY, who has viewed the
|
| proceedings from a safe distance, breathes a sigh of relief
|
| Greggery:
|
| Phew!
|
| Narrator:
|
| Only to be terrified once again by a roar of immense laughter
|
| Billy:
|
| HO! |
| HO! |
| HO!
|
| Narrator:
|
| Which seems to be rumbling up from the very depths of the cave in which he has
|
| hidden his car!
|
| Greggery:
|
| Good Lord! |
| What was that?
|
| Narrator:
|
| GREGGERY doesn’t realize he has concealed himself inside the very mouth of
|
| Billy:
|
| HO! |
| HO! |
| HO!
|
| Narrator:
|
| BILLY THE MOUNTAIN!
|
| Billy:
|
| HO! |
| HO! |
| HO!
|
| Narrator:
|
| And, as you all know, whenever BILLY laughs, rocks and boulders hack up,
|
| and the air for miles around is filled with tons of dust, forming a series of
|
| huge BROWN CLOUDS!
|
| Greggery:
|
| WHO IS MAKING THOSE NEW BROWN CLOUDS?
|
| WHO IS MAKING THOSE CLOUDS THESE DAYS?
|
| WHO IS MAKING THOSE NEW BROWN CLOUDS?
|
| BETTER ASK A PHILOSTOPHER 'N SEE WHAT HE SAYS!
|
| Narrator:
|
| GREGGERY stops at a gas station and makes a mysterious phone call
|
| Greggery:
|
| IS THIS THE OLD LOFT
|
| WITH THE PAINT PEELIN' OFF IT
|
| BY THE CHINESE POLICE
|
| WHERE THE DOGS ROLL BY?
|
| IS THIS WHERE THEY KEEP
|
| THE PHILOSTOPHERS NOW
|
| WITH THE RUGS & THE DUST
|
| WHERE THE BOOKS GO TO DIE?
|
| HOW MANY YEZ GOT?
|
| SAY YEZ GOT QUITE A FEW
|
| JUST SITTIN' AROUND THERE
|
| WITH NOTHIN' TO DO?
|
| WELL I JUST CALLED YEZ UP
|
| 'CAUSE I WANTED TO SEE
|
| A PHILOSTOPHER BE
|
| OF ASSISTANCE TO ME!
|
| Narrator:
|
| GREGGERY receives information that 'The Greatest Living PHILOSTOPHER Known to
|
| Mankind' is currently in possession of the very information in question, and,
|
| furthermore, this information could be HIS, if only GREGGERY would attend a
|
| 'SPECIAL THERAPEUTIC GROUP ASSEMBLY' (Classes now forming), and available at a
|
| special low low introductory fee. |
| .. and now, here he is, 'The Greatest
|
| Living PHILOSTOPHER Known to Mankind', QUENTIN ROBERT DeNAMELAND! |
| Take it away!
|
| Quentin: |
| Folks, as you can see for yourself, the way this clock over here is behaving,
|
| TIME IS OF AFFLICTION! |
| Now this might be cause for alarm among a portion of
|
| you, as, from a certain experience, I TEND TO PROCLAIM: 'THE EONS ARE CLOSING'!
|
| Narrator:
|
| Make your checks payable to 'QUENTIN ROBERT DeNAMELAND, Greatest Living
|
| Philostopher Known to Mankind'!
|
| Greggery:
|
| WHO IS MAKING THOSE NEW BROWN CLOUDS?
|
| WHO IS MAKING THOSE CLOUDS THESE DAYS?
|
| WHO IS MAKING THOSE NEW BROWN CLOUDS?
|
| IF YOU ASK A PHILOSTOPHER, HE’LL SEE
|
| THAT YOU PAYS! |