Simply Hedge™
Out of context: Reply #5
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- hiimerik0
Barber All right ... I confess I haven't cut your hair ... I hate cutting hair. I have this terrible un-un-uncontrollable fear whenever I see hair. When I was a kid I used to hate the sight of hair being cut. My mother said I was a fool. She said the only way to cure it was to become a barber. So I spent five ghastly years at the Hairdressers' Training Centre at Totnes. Can you imagine what it's like cutting the same head for five years? I didn't want to be a barber anyway. I wanted to be a lumberjack. Leaping from tree to tree as they float down the mighty rivers of British Columbia . . . (he is gradually straightening up with a visionary gleam in his eyes) The giant redwood, the larch, the fir, the mighty scots pine. (he tears off his barber's jacket, to reveal tartan shirt and lumberjack trousers underneath; as he speaks the lights dim behind him and a choir of Mounties is heard, faintly in the distance) The smell of fresh-cut timber! The crash of mighty trees! (moves to stand infront of back-drop of Canadian mountains and forests) With my best girlie by my side ... (a frail adoring blonde, the heroine of many a mountains film, or perhaps the rebel maid, rushes to his side and looks adoringly into his eyes) We'd sing ... sing ... sing.
The choir is loud by now and music as well.
Barber (singing) I'm a lumberjack and I'm OK,
I sleep all night and I work all day
Light comes up to his left to reveal a choir of Mounties.
Mounties Choir He's a lumberjack, and he's OK,
He sleeps all night and he works all day.
Barber I cut down trees, I eat my lunch,
I go to the lavatory.
On Wednesdays I go shopping,
And have buttered scones for tea.
Mounties Choir He cuts down trees, He eats his lunch,
He goes to the lavatory.
On Wednesdays he goes shopping,
And have buttered scones for tea.
He's a lumberjack, and he's OK,
He sleeps all night and he works all day.
Barber I cut down trees, I skip and jump,
I like to press wild flowers.
I put on women's clothing,
And hang around in bars.
Mounties Choir He cuts down trees, he skips and jumps,
He likes to press wild flowers.
He puts on women's clothing
And hangs around.... In bars???????During the last verse the choir has started to look uncomfortable but they brighten up as they go into the chorus.
Mounties Choir He's a lumberjack, and he's OK,
He sleeps all night and he works all day.
Barber I chop down trees, I wear high heels,
Suspenders and a bra.
I wish I'd been a girlie
Just like my dear Mama.
Mounties Choir He cuts down trees, he wears high heels
(spoken rather than sung)Suspenders and a .... a Bra????
They all mumble. Music runs down. The girl looks horrified and bursts into tears.
Barber ...just like my dear Mama.
Girl
(Connie Booth) Oh Bevis! And I thought you were so rugged.
Cut to hand-written letter.
Voice Over Dear Sir, I wish to complain in the strongest possible terms about the song which you have just broadcast, about the lumberjack who wears women's clothes. Many of my best friends are lumberjacks and only a few of them are transvestites. Yours faithfully, Brigadier Sir Charles Arthur Strong (Mrs.) PS I have never kissed the editor of the Radio Times.
Cut to pepperpot.
Pepperpot Well I object to all this sex on the television. I mean I keep falling off.
Shot of battered trophy.SUPERIMPOSED CAPTION: 'THAT JOKE WAS BRITAIN'S ENTRY FOR THIS YEAR'S RUBBER MAC OF ZURICH AWARD'
ROLLER CAPTION: 'IT CAME LAST'
Cut back to Canadian backdrop. In front, a man with a knotted handkerchief on his head, a wooly pullover, and braces.SUPERIMPOSED CAPTION: 'PROF. R. J. GUMBY'
Gumby Well I think television's killed real entertainment. In the old days we used to make our own fun. At Christmas parties I used to strike myself on the head repeatedly with blunt instruments while crooning. (sings) 'Only make believe, I love you, (hits himself on head with bricks) Only make believe that you love me, (hits himself) Others find peace of mind...'
Cut to a swish nightclub. Compère enters.
Compère Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to the Refreshment Room here at Bletchley. (applause) My name is Kenny Lust and I'm your compère for tonight. You know, once in a while it is my pleasure, and my privilege, to welcome here at the Refreshment Room, some of the truly great international artists of our time. (applause) And tonight we have one such artist. (grovelling) Ladies and gentlemen, someone whom I've always personally admired, perhaps more deeply, more strongly, more abjectly than ever before. (applause) A man, well more than a man, a god (applause), a great god, whose personality is so totally and utterly wonderful my feeble words of welcome sound wretchedly and pathetically inadequate. (by now on his knees) Someone whose boots I would gladly lick clean until holes wore through my tongue, a man who is so totally and utterly wonderful, that I would rather be sealed in a pit of my own filth, than dare tread on the same stage with him.Ladies and gentlemen, the incomparably superior human being, Harry Fink!
Voice Off He can't come!
Compère Never mind, it's not all it's cracked up to be. Ladies and gentlemen, we give you Ken Buddha and his inflatable knees.
Cut to Ken (Terry J) in evening dress; his knees go 'bang'.
Compère Ken Buddha, a smile, two bangs and a religion. Now ladies and gentlemen, for your further entertainment, Brian Islam and Brucie.
Two animated men dance to jug band music. When they finish we cut back to the barber and customer.
Barber So anyway, I became a barber.