Wednesday 12 December 2007

WORLD-SPORT: Act 6, Scene 2



TINTIN: Look at me, a squashed man in a squash court. In april my tiger finally inverts. Air tonight lucent, blueberry muffin under wasp smoke. I needed you to be there, bright hurricane, fur and fucking. Valium weekend in whatever feeding me hype. We could just fuck and watch manga, all the time. Flower me, bright puma fuck. O, my very own gullet, my hype-pipe cracks – regard it in delicate balance of five actively suppressive agents what oozes thick and free is fuck it back to work.

DELOYT&TUSH: Hi guys!



TINTIN: Ok, I can do better than that.



TINTIN: No…



TINTIN: Ah, that’s better.

DELOYT&TUSH: Your glasses have an SS logo on them.

TINTIN: I know. ELLIPSE PROGRAM-NELVANA LIMITED clearly have something on their minds.

DELOYT&TUSH: Yeah, look at that guy.



TINTIN: Here my hat only has one ‘S' so I’m compensating with my left eyebrow.



DELOYT&TUSH: Woah! Check me out! I can’t move! I’m a swastika!



TINTIN: Yeah, nice one ELLIPSE PROGRAM-NELVANA LIMITED.

HADDOCK: They sorted out my drinking problem.

TINTIN: They also made me an insufferable prick.

MILOU: They also edited out all of the political satire.

DELOYT&TUSH: Really, guys, I can’t move.



TINTIN: At least they did something about the horrendously racist stereotype drawings in Herge’s original series.

ARCHANGEL TOAL: Rots of ruck, Mr TINTIN.



TINTIN: Jesus! They’ve replaced Toal with a pig and everyone else with a moralising dolt!

MILOU: And now that ghost towel is fucking with my ear again.



MILOU: Who are these cunts? Who do they think we are? Do they think we’ll stand for this? STRIKE! WILDCAT STRIKE!

TINTIN: STRIKE!

HADDOCK: YES, YES! ARISE BROTHERS! STRIKE!



GUNWHORES: That’s enough of that.

TINTIN: Who sent you whores?

GUNWHORES: ELLIPSE PROGRAM-NELVANA LIMITED sent us. Now hands up.

DELOYT&TUSH: I can’t move. Does this count as hands up?



TINTIN: [to MILOU] You sold us out pretty quickly, didn't you.



MILOU: Halt your tongue, worker. I’m a mean fuck with four GUNWHORES. You ain’t shit.

[Fade out suspensefully.]

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