HELLO, AND WELCOME TO ANOTHER EDITION OF "CROSSDISCUSSION" WITH LON MOONEY. CROSSDISCUSSION IS SPONSORED IN PART BY SECRET BRAND DEODORANT - SECRET; STRONG ENOUGH FOR A MAN BUT STINKS LIKE TINY KITTEN WOMEN. AND NOW, YOUR HOST, LON MOONEY:
"Hi. Today we are having our panel discussion from a random Inconvenience Store. My guests are M.P. Madden, a clerk, the Righteous Reverend G.D. Flantantino, of the Church of the Slick, Sweet, Slapped & Capped, and Eponine, an incidental French whore from Les Miserables."
"First issue: Al Gore. Are his involvement with the fundraising scandals going to hurt his chances for a shot at the Presidency?"
Madden: Gore's from Tennessee. The Roach Hollow bad Drunken White Mafia considers Tennessee part ay thir territory. Whae does thit tell ye?
Flantantino: Al Gore a bitch. He need to sit the hell down and shut the hell up. And his wife Tipper be typical example of everything I hate bout white women. PMRC my ass. Just cause she don't like the gangsta rap, she want to make it so can't nobody else listen to it neither...
"But, Rev. Flantantino, do you think the vice-president's "bitchness" will hurt his chances in 2000? Don't you think that Mr. Clinton successfully overcame his bitchness in 96?"
Madden: Hey, Flantantino, ye mind if ah borrow yer big dark sunglasses? Yir gold teeth gleamin is startin tae blind me.
Flantantino: Bitch! Don't you make me get up, now! I kick yo ass!
"Okay, next issue: Chelsea's privacy. The First Daughter wants to be like "any other student" at Stanford. Yet, she arrived with an entire motorcade of Presidential security. Is this hypocrisy?"
Madden: Hey, Flantantino, ah think one ay the Things in The Men's Room jest gave birth. Ye should go bless the wee bairn.
"Interesting response. How about you, Eponine?"
Eponine: The barricade! I must reach the barricade, and deliver a message to the man I love!
Flantantino: Bitch! You better know better than mock the Man of God, you stupid Pakistani ho!
Madden: Ah'm nae a Pakastani! Ah'm a... oh, thit's right.
Flantantino: Yeah, bitch. Live up to the stereotype. Let the man keep you down.
Madden: Whae is thit smell?
"Uhh.. is my mic on? Hello?"
Madden: Do ye smell thit, Reverend?
Flantantino: Yeah. Smell like the remains of stupid white men goin way too fast in stupid cars.
(Hamm leaves the register and joins M.P. in searching for the source of the stink)
"Umm... come back. Oh, forget it. Next issue: the recent glut of military aircraft crashes. Think they're connected, Eponine?"
Flantantino: What is it with white people and big fast vehicles? Can't never be satisfied where they is, always gotta be speedin off somewhere else, stupid bitches...
(Hamm and M.P. are horrified by a large, rubber, circular object sitting atop a beer display. Flantantino heads for the cooler)
Eponine: The barricade! I must deliver a message to Marius, my true love! Though he has fallen for another, Cossette, I will still do anything for him...
"Barricade. Right. Um, hello? Is my microphone working?"
Madden: Oh mah Gawd. It's...
Hamm: But why? Why?
(Madden and Hamm stare at the authentic NASCAR tire, vultured from a real NASCAR wreck, which the store seems to be having a contest to give to their redneck customers. This is the source of the burnt-rubber stench.)
Eponine: I know! I will sing! (Dances round the store) My love, I will die for you... the pain will make the flowers grow... though I'm on a giant revolving stage, which is going too very fast, making me oh so dizzy, the pain will make the flowers grow...
Flantantino: Yeah, bitch, I'll make your flowers grow...
Madden (holding nose): But whae is thit other stench? Smells like rottin flesh.
Hamm (peering inside the race car tire): Oh my God! It's a hand! Ugghhhhh...
Madden: Think we should take this back tae Jeff Gordon-Earnhart-Trickle? (holds up the decomposing hand)
Flantantino: Shit. Tell the bitch to come down here, I'll sew it back on.
Eponine: Marius, my love? It's getting dark...
"I'm not Marius. Now quit bleeding on me and answer the question."
Hamm (walking over to Flantantino): Look, dude, you can't drink that in here. We have only a license to sell, not serve, alcohol.
Flantantino: Hell, bitch. You don't mess with me. (Swigs malt liquor) See this here? This is God's malt liquor. Says so on the bottle, St. Ides. You want me get the wrath of God on yo white ass?
Madden: Ohmygod, and there's more... (peers in tire) Whae the hell... oh no, it's his, his...
Flantantino: What? They don't have no stupid white violent sports where you come from, M.P.?
Madden (turning green): Yeah, well, there is fitbal.
"Fitbal? Oh, you mean football. But that doesn't mean the same thing to us as it does to you Scots, does it?"
Hamm: Yeah. Their football is what we call soccer, and they call football rugby.
Madden: No. Where ah come fro, fibal is just that. A game in which the winning team is the team which makes the most connections between their feet and the other team's-
"Well, we're about out of time." (Lon Mooney turns to camera) "Join us next week on Crossdiscussion..."
Hamm (over closing credits): Listen Flantantino, if you're gonna drink that you ought to at least pay for it...
Elaine Kefler (Eponine) has previously held roles as Annie in Annie, and Dr. Hannibal Lecter in the musical version of Silence of the Lambs. Starring in an off-Broadway production of one of Mike's Rants has long been a nightmare of hers, and she is currently praying for death.