===================================================================== THERE'S NO JUSTICE LIKE FINAL JUSTICE ===================================================================== a one-act play by JOE BLEVINS (joeblev@concentric.net) ===================================================================== based on the slab of thawed-out pork butt that was "Final Justice" ===================================================================== [NOTE: Throughout the entire play, two strippers wearing bikini bottoms and life jackets gyrate flaccidly in front of an aquarium in the back- ground. Their presence is never explained, and they have no effect whatsoever on the action occurring in the foreground. If you actually decide to stage this play, please consider casting girlfriends of the producer in these roles. Thank you. And now, our story...] ~~~~~ [The setting: the humid, sweat-drenched streets of Malta in the turbulent mid-1980s, a time when aggressively tan gangsters in V-neck sweaters ruled the tiny island nation with an iron fist and moist palms. As the curtain goes up, a few NAMELESS LACKEYS are in mid- staredown with SHERIFF THOMAS JEFFERSON GERONIMO III, a corpulent Texas lawman squeezed into a silly cowboy outfit his Mother made for him with he was eight. The lackeys are a motley crew. Some are hairy, some are beefy, some are a combination of the two. Geronimo stands on the far left of the stage; the lackeys on the far right. Between them are a number of Ming vases, delicate crystal figurines on pedestals, a fruit cart filled with casaba melons, and a pyramid of champagne glasses. Overhead hangs a banner that reads: "WELCOME TO MALTA, THE PARAMUS OF EUROPE!" Everyone onstage is packing heat... and carrying guns as well.] GERONIMO: Yew think Ah'm afraid of yew? Huh? Well, think ag'in! Afraid of yew is somethin' that Ah am NOT. [Geronimo stands with his hand inches away from the gun in his holster, ready to play shoot-'em-up at a second's notice. Through the magic of stagecraft (and the sound crew) we hear Geronimo's inner voice.] GERONIMO'S INNER VOICE: This is more than Ah bargained for! Man, how do Ah git mahself *into* this stuff? LACKEY #1: What do you theenk, boys? Should we keel thees guy seven times or eight times? LACKEY #2: I theenk eight ees a beet excessive. LACKEY #3: I deesagree. I feel that keeling him eight times would send a strong message to fat Texas sheriffs everywhere that Maltese lackeys are the finest lackeys een the warruld. LACKEY #1: Good point, Kip. Eight eet ees. GERONIMO: Th' only person who's gonna git killed 'round here is YEW. And Ah mean "yew" in th' collective sense of that pronoun. GERONIMO'S INNER VOICE: Aw, geez, Ah don't have th' cajones to back up that kinda talk. And speakin' of "backed up," I wonder if the folks at th' hotel have fixed the john in mah room. LACKEY #1: That ees some mighty beeg, smelly talk, Geronimo. GERONIMO: That's Huh-ronna-moe. LACKEY #1: Wha...? GERONIMO: Th' name's pronounced "Huh-ronna-moe." LACKEY #3: I thought eet was spelled with a "g." GERONIMO: It is. Th' "g" is pronounced like an "h." Ah don't know why exactly. Ever'body gits it wrong, so don't feel too bad. LACKEY #1: Bad? Why should I feel bad? Just because I mees-pronounced the name of a SOON-TO-BE-DEAD-MAN? [Silence; then Geronimo comes up with the perfect retort.] GERONIMO: Ah know yew are but what 'm Ah? [He grins smugly.] GERONIMO'S INNER VOICE: Good one, man! Yew really smoked 'im! LACKEY #1: Well, from looking at you, I'd say you were a cooked ham dressed as Roy Rogers! [All three lackeys laugh. Geronimo blushes.] GERONIMO: Ah'm gonna make you pay fer that remark! LACKEY #2: Do you take Diner's Club? Who am I keeding? Of COURSE you do! [The lackeys have another laugh at Geronimo's expense.] GERONIMO: Yew think yew kin TAKE me? LACKEY #3: Where? To the all-night Denny's? [Howls of derisive laughter.] GERONIMO'S INNER VOICE: Oh, man. Yer DYIN' out thar! Use yer "A" material! Quick! GERONIMO: [steely] Go head on! It's yer move! LACKEY #1: To move heem, we'd need a forkleeft! [The lackeys are by now all doubled over in laughter. Geronimo is getting very frustrated.] GERONIMO: C'mon, guys, this is mah big moment here! We're s'posed t' have a Sergio Leone-esque standoff now! Don't ruin it for me! Ah mean, lookit all these props we've set up fer yew bad guys to knock over as yew stumble around after bein' shot. Some poor stagehand prob'ly had to set all this stuff up! Guys...? [It's no use; the lackeys are on the floor, rolling around in obscene fits of laughter. The lights dim, and a spotlight hits Geronimo. He steps forward and delivers a heartfelt soliloquy in a pristine British accent.] GERONIMO: To belch or not to belch; that is the question: Whether 'tis nobler in the gut to suffer The pain and bloating of outrageous gas, Or to expel a big ass cloud of trouble, And by expulsion, end it. To burp, to scratch-- Once more; and by a scratch I'll finally end The itching of the thousand nooks and crannies My ass is home to; 'Tis some constipation. Must've been the fish; to fart; to drool; To sleep til noon each day; ay, where's the grub? For in that grocery sack what snacks may come, When we have finished off this Hostess Ding Dong, Must lose some weight; I get no respect. Too much cholesterol for just one man: For who would eat the cakes and pies of time, Richard Simmons's wrong, the proud man is portly, The pangs of hunger one cannot deny, The tenderness of steak, and then the ribs That merit praise from us unsightly slobs, Might TV itself make us quiet down With some bare boobies; Where'd those Yodels go? To grunt and sweat under these movie lights, But that the dread of jogging after lunch, The undetermin'd stain from smelly shorts No bleach will remove, boggles the mind And makes us rather fear the stains we have Than think of others that we know not of? Thus porkchops do make fat slobs of us all; And thus the searing pain of indigestion Is coated over by the pink Pepto Bismol, And Alka Seltzer of plop plop and fizz fizz With my regard for ham and cheese on rye I'm sure no man of action -- Soft I am, Joe Don Baker! -- Schlub, in tacky outfits By cheesy films remember'd. [Exeunt GERONIMO.] T H E E N D [NOTE: If you want, you may choose to have a Julia Louis-Dreyfus doppelganger standing near Geronimo during the play. This is entirely optional, however. If your budget is tight, don't bother.] ===================================================================== THE ONE ACT PLAYS BASED ON MST3K EPISODES ===================================================================== [909] Sam & Joe: A One-Act Play [910] Rowsdower & Troy Aren't Dead... And Neither One of Them Is Rappaport, Either [911] Neil "Screaming Skull" Simon's The Odd Couple [912] After the Devil Fish (or: How Peter and Stella Got Their Respective Grooves Back) [913] Shine On, You Crazy Delta Knight [1001] How To Get Ahead In Soultaking [1002] For Counter Girls Who Have Considered Rainbows When Gold Boots Are Enuf (or: The Grown Woman in Beige Pumps) [1004] A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Future War [1005] Come Back to the Blood Waters, Dr. Z, Dr. Z [1006] Our Boggy Creek is a Great Boggy Creek [1007] They Shoot Moon Beasts, Don't They? [1008] There's No Justice Like Final Justice COMING SOON: [1009] Hamletmania! (Not the Real Thing But an Incredible Simulation) [1010] It Leaves by Five [1011] When the Horrors Come Back to Spider Island [1012] I Could Have Squirmed All Night [1013] You're a Dangerous Man, Diabolik [1003] If It's Tuesday, This Must Be Merlin's Shop of Mystical Wonders