Tonight, WWWPBS and Get Off The Cross! are proud to present the cultural event of the last five minutes, the film Una Dia con Cafe de Nada. This independent film, written and directed by the famous French surrealist Jean-Fen vackla Snott and starring MP Madden and Hamm Madrigal, has already been hailed as "The greatest way to get slowpoke idiots out of a movie theatre that's on fire" by the critics at Cannes.
Well, okay, this is the web, and we're too cheap to spring for realtime online video capabilities. So here's the script.
The scene: a black and white wide shot of an Inconvenience Store. Hamm and MP stand behind the counter, their faces painted like mimes. They wear black turtlenecks and frilly white smocks.
At the coffee maker, rednecks line up. They take the empty coffee pot, pour air into their empty cups, and walk up to the counter.
Hamm: Here, we are the merchants of nothing. We offer a large nothing, a regular nothing, a triple latte nothing with a side of nothing, and decaffinated emptiness.
Redneck places nothing in Hamm's palm. He opens the cash register, which is also empty.
Redneck: They offer nothing, and they are given nothing. May I please have my change in small nothing bills?
Hamm: Hell no. We have no extra nothing to spare.
MP: We are full ay nothing, and nothing abounds. Yet we have no nothing to spare. Within the emptiness, we are empty.
Hamm: Empty. The coffee pot is empty. MP, make some more nothing.
MP: I do nothing, and my wages are nothing. I demand a raise.
Hamm grabs MP, lifts him into the air like a ballerina. MP, who is afraid of heights, screams like a baby till he's put back down.
Hamm: Fearest thou shalt fall into the void?
MP: Ah fear nae thit. The only void fir me is the void left in me heart, when ye walked oot ay me life.
Hamm: You're reading from the wrong page, idiot. That's the speech you make to Disney, your girlfriend, when she leaves you for one of the Finnish terrorists that take over this store and in the end tickle us all into oblivion. And urine.
MP: I, too, pee when officed. And ye just gave away the end ay this film.
Hamm: You just used "office" as a verb.
Enter Super Stoner Boy #347, nude but for the huge green leaf girding his loins.
SSB: To office? Thou shalt verb thy nouns? Then here, staring into the emptiness, I am voiding.
Hamm: In medical terminology, "to void" means to urinate.
SSB: I'm doing that, too. Gotta keep the leaf fertilized.
Hamm: One more reference to urine and I'm gonna be thirsty.
MP: Gross.
SSB: May I please have some Philly Blunts?
Hamm: No.
SSB: Aw, come on.
MP: Yeah, I got your big fat blunt right here. (Unzips pants)
Hamm: You cannot unzip thy fly, for you are naked.
MP: In my nakedness, I am alone.
SSB removes his leaf.
SSB: Now you are no longer alone.
MP: Thit wis a simile, ye moron.
SSB: Nae, it wis ay metaphor, A smilie uses "like" or "as."
MP: Arghh! It's havin some kind ay convulsions, listen to its demonic speech! Kill it!
Enter Chorus. They douse SSB in motor oil, break his arms.
Hamm: The earth heaves with your pain, Super Stoner Boy. (Dumps feathers on SSB) Fly, dear boy, fly to freedom. Fly as far as your tattered wings will carry you.
SSB flaps his arms, opens the ice cream cooler and crawls inside.
SSB: Damn, it's cold in here.
MP: Very cold, yes. The vast, frozen wasteland offers on warmth, no sustenance.
Hamm: Except for popsicles. You could live eight months on those. They have no fat, yet contain six trillion calories per serving.
MP: Ah, the empty, cold calories.
Redneck female enters from the Women's Room.
RF: Look - Super Stoner Boy has stuck his tongue to the ice cream cooler door, and is trapped. By the way, you're out of toilet paper. My hand smells awful.
MP: We have no toilet paper.
Hamm: We have no TP. We will live in our filthyness and squalor, with nothing to clean and purify our smudged souls. Where is our salvation?
RF: And your toilet's stopped up. Don't ask me how, since you're supposed to be out of TP. But it's in the script.
Hamm: The toilet is choking on its own nothingness.
SSB: I am dying. My body temperature plummets. To escape, I must cut off my tongue.
MP: Ah want me mommy.
Hamm: I cried because I had no tongue, till I met the man who had no esophagus. (Hands SSB a pair of scissors) Snip away, young man. Circumcise thy mouth, and be freed from thy sin.
MP: Ah want me mommy.
SSB: (Exits cooler) There's blood all over your ice cream. You may want to clean that up.
MP: Ah want me mommy.
Hamm: And here's the rub: for we have the bloody ice cream, sixteen gallons, and nowhere a spoon to be found.
MP: My mommy has spoons.
Chorus: Call the cops, call the cops.
Hamm: We are the merchants of nothingness.
MP: Ah want me mommy.
SSB: I want a big fat blunt.
Hamm: Golf is for pussies, and hockey is the sport of barbarians.
-FIN-
No ice cream was actually harmed in the making of this film. All events and charachers portrayed in this film are the result of beer. Aunhemmer-Slush, brewers of fine lagers and a WWWPBS sponsor, asks that you drink responsibly. Open bottle from top only. If bottle grows damp and slick, use a foam beer holder. If beer reeks even slightly of ammonia, discard immediately. Or not.
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Copyright 1962
An In Iran Production