Secrets of the Masters!!!

Augusta National, the famed golf course where the Masters is being played this week, is known for its many traditions, such as the par-3 tournament, the azaleas, the pine needles (since replaced by rough in places) and, of course, the hole names. Every hole at Augusta has its own special name.

Since the members at Augusta National are mostly good ol' Southern boys, with macho, if easy going, character, you're surprised to learn that most of the names are flowery, effeminate titles that sound as if they'd come straight from your mum's garden club. "Pink Dogwood", "Redbud", "Juniper", "Flowering Peach", and "Carolina Cherry" are some of the examples (although the last one might be a euphemistic reference to the ladies just across the border in South Carolina. Let's hope not for their sake).

What Augusta National Chairman Hootie "and the Blowfish" Johnson don't tell you is that these names are just cover for the real, secret names of the holes, names which tell dark and dreadful tales, tales of pain and fear and despair. What else would you expect from the sport of golf?

Below are just some of these secret names as revealed to me by a deeply placed inside source, at least that's what my podiatrist told me when he passed the information along.

Hole #1 - Public Name: Tee Olive. Secret Name: Project Blue Book - This hole got its secret name from the battle famed past Chairman Cliff Roberts waged fighting off a horde of space aliens who wanted to see if their hideous alien probes could penetrate the hide of one of the sternest, most weathered and stubborn men in golf. Instead of a complex probe operation, the aliens were beaten to a green pulp with a mashie niblick and their interplanetary craft burned and its ashes buried beneath the course and watered "personally" by Mr. Roberts. (See: Hole #16 - Secret Name: There's No Spacecraft Under Here...Really, Just Ask the Air Force!, and Hole #18 - Secret Name: Dead Aliens' Shallow Grave)

Hole #4 - Public Name: Flowering Crab Apple. Secret Name: Cigar (Also referred to as "Light Me Baby") - All that can be said of this hole is that one of the few times former President Bill Clinton played here there was a mysterious 20 minute delay at this hole when the President and his female caddy, named Lola, vanished. When they reappeared, Clinton was smoking a cigar and singing "Copacabana'".

Hole #8 - Public Name: Yellow Jasmine. Secret Name: Manhattan South - Not many people know that a second, top secret A-Bomb project was going on right in Augusta, Georgia during WWII. Fortunately for Georgians, the scientists were never able to develop a bomb (which they planned to test in Rae's Creek). So instead, bored and frustrated, they invented the mixed drink "The Manhattan". After initial tests, many of the scientists stated that they felt like they had been in a bomb blast.

Hole #14 - Public Name: Chinese Fir. Secret Name: Hong Kong Phooey - Renamed in 1987, in honor of Scatman Crothers. The previous name of the hole was "The Ballad of Bilbo Baggins", named in honor of Leonard Nimoy's extremely weird song, which was a big favorite of Arnie Palmer's. Prior to that, the name of the hole was "Mandingo".

Hole# 17 - Public Name: Nandina. Secret Name: Zulu Dawn - Named in honor of the covered up events of the 1947 Masters, when Zulu warriors, upset at the segregationalist policies of the club and the U. S. South, attacked Augusta National and killed 247 members of the club. Only Cliff Roberts and Bobby Jones survived the withering assault, and only because Cliff still had the mashie.

Well, I must desist now, but only because the solicitors and the frumpy men in the green jackets are outside.

Billy Casper - Now he is one of us.

Yesterday at the Masters, Former golfing great Billy Casper, age 73, shot a 106.

A 106. I shot better than that on my last outing. Of course translate my score to the glasslike, bikini-waxed (thank you Mr. McCord), roller coaster greens of Augusta and Casper would have beaten me by at least two dozen strokes.

He took a 14 on the treacherous par-3 16th hole. 11 over par on one hole... at the Masters!

I have a new hero, and his name is Casper.

It's GANerrrifffic!

The signs that point to Juan Carlos having trouble with the GAN (Which stands for "Great American Novel" and not "Gigantic Aardvark Nipple"...although given some of the posts I can see how you might make that error) are that He has not posted since March 30th. This means that he is probably slaving over a keyboard somewhere, desperately trying to find the perfectly nuanced prose for this massive undertaking. Either that or he's in a futile struggle with the Auto Format in Microsoft Word, which seems as though it was coded by gremlins to lazy to personally visit each machine and screw it up.

Of course Zimpter Fiforg and Chico y Jose have never posted, so JCV is in our good graces, comparatively.

Kudos to Stew for his magnificent attempt to provide a finish line for Juan Carlos's impending masterpiece/disaster of a novel. No doubt JCV will arrive soon, propelled by the stinging afterburn of a delicious empenada con fuego.

So, what are you getting at Fando, you stupid git? Well, I thought you might ask that (Especially Albert, from Bolton, England, UK.)
We clearly have some interesting potential excerpts, and Stew has crafted some fine closing paragrpahs. So, other than the 300,000-500,000 words of prose in-between, what else could you need for "The" GAN? The answer? (dramatic pause...no, don't get up, just count to 3 and then read on) Marketing!

Just think of it. You've finally got the Great American Novel, but how do you promote it? You need the Great American Slogan (GAS)!

Here are a few humble suggestions. This wasn't easy, especially given that the book has no real title, other than GAN:

- "Juan Carlos Vega's new book!" (Simple, direct, it says, "Who the hell is Juan Carlos Vega?" which adds a touch of mystery as well.)

- "GAN! It's GANerrrrriffic!" (We'll hire Tony the Tiger to do the adverts.)

- "GAN! Reading is Fun" (There may be some copyright issues with this one, but how good can the RIF people's solicitors be?)

- "Sex! Blood! Auto Racing! Death! Sex! More Sex!!!" (All right, I admit that is the traditional method.)

- "Look, a saucy potboiler that DOESN'T have Fabio on the cover!" (I realize the Brits out there may be scratching their beans about this one...it's for the American campaign!)

- "Just when you thought it was safe to go back in the library..."

- "Dave Barry meets Charles Dickens!"

- "A moving, once in a lifetime read that will speak to bed wetters everywhere." (Emotional and yet ever so slightly troubled...also slightly scatological, which really hits it big with the publishing crowd.)

- This book has words!!!

- "The most indispensable book since Bill Clinton: My Life."

- "This garbage rocks!"

- "If pigs could fly, they'd read Juan Carlos Vega's GAN"

- and finally: "on sale at a Wal Mart near you."

Bravo all around!!!

This cause is bigger than all of us, but maybe together it can be done. I pray that we can do this for many more than just those in Africa but that it can be done all over the world. I wish Bono, Brad, Djimon, and the rest the best as they do the right thing and hope we can all get involved on some level. On a lighter note, and speaking of levels, did anyone notice Bono's chair. Got that thing hiked up a little there don'tcha buddy. Hey, we don't care how tall ya are...just keep rockin'.

We want the GAN!! We want the GAN!!

All signs point to the fact that Juan Carlos is still having trouble with the GAN. To those who are asking what I’ve been smoking, please familiarize yourself by going here, here, and here. The GAN, or Great American Novel, is the ambition of every writer who has picked up a quill, pecked a typewriter, or wished to throw his word processor out of the window for the last two hundred some odd years. In our earlier posting we dealt mainly with the start of the GAN but now I want to take the next step, or I should say last step, in our three part structure. While the beginning of a novel is integral to building suspense and so-called rising action, the end is equally important to resolve the conflict which is developed in the middle. In order to continue in my efforts to help my friend Juan CV, here are some possible ending paragraphs for the much anticipated GAN.


Cassandra gazed out at the smoldering remains of Candlewood her beloved plantation. Wrecked by war and the lusty passions of Col. Beauregard it was now a shadow of the green and lush Xanadu she had known as a child. However, from deep in her bosom a pride welled-up and she felt as if her heart would explode. As she stood on the precipice of Walnut Hill with the soft hues of dusk behind her she knew that there would always be another day. That night, as she laid her head on the pillow, a meteor struck the earth and flung it off its axis into the sun.

The townspeople had learned a lot from the little clown. Harmonious P. Picklebottom had taught them about love, laughter, joy, and tranquility. But he was gone now and they would have to learn to find these attributes within themselves, each striving to emulate a little piece of his character. As he swung from the gallows many of them had a gnawing feeling that maybe his work was not done.

Larry swung the midget onto his shoulders and pushed his way through the crowd outside St. Kelvan’s Medical Center. “I have to get in to see the governing board, this man told me he has the secret to ending the plague. Millions more may die today if I can’t get in to see them. It’s our only hope.” He burst into the boardroom and threw the midget onto the table as the security guards dragged him to the floor. Before he slipped into unconsciousness from the batons he could hear the midget speaking to the members sitting in rapt attention, “Laughter is the best medicine. Follow the Yellow Brick Road, Follow the Yellow Brick Road…”

As Hadley’s ’83 Cutlass careened off the Brooklyn Bridge everything seemed to go into slow motion. The constraints of time seemed to give way to perfect clarity as he could make out even the faces of the dock workers below and count the feathers on a pigeon’s wings. His life flashed before his eyes ending in that apartment where Peg had thrust the dagger into his heart. Then, as he hurled toward the water, he thought of the perfect comeback line. Damn.

Here's to the hope that the GAN is forthcoming.

Comedy Terror?

This Sky News report ends with a reference to a "self-styled comedy terrorist". Pardon me Mr. Barschak, but "comedy terrorist"? Given the world's preoccupation with real terror, this self stylization is clearly in execrable taste. Would he find it funny if we sent him to a "comedy proctologist" or if a "comedy mugger" did a routine on him?

Nonetheless, there is something fascinating about pranking the royals. Elizabeth Regina seems quite a sensible bird, but the rest of the family seems to be on the hound's side of barking mad. So, quite naturally, some people (but no one on this site of course!) are interested in playing some harmless pranks, that will result in no harm to anything but royal protocol and pride.

While we at DOUI do not endorse such activites, especially those that are accomplished through the violation of British or international law, I would like to take this opportunity (checks to see if the lawyers have left the room for their martini nightcaps) to list the sort of thing I'd come up with, were I keen to do such a thing, which I most certainly am not Mr. Blair.

• "T.P." Kensington Palace...with the two ply, extra soft stuff.
• Get Prince Harry smashed, dress him up as a Nazi, and send him to a very public party. (It wasn't me, I swear.)
• Hire Graham Norton to walk around in a thong and loudly proclaim "that Parker-Bowles woman stole my Bonnie Prince Charlie!" Actually, let's skip the thong idea as it's making me queasy.
• Hide these under all the seat cushions at Windsor the day before Charles and Camilla's wedding. Walk around outside the palace waving my hand in front of my face as if to say, "Where's that smell coming from?"
• Place a large sign outside of Buckingham Palace that says "Get It Here Boys!"
• "Accidentally" reschedule Arsenal-Chelsea match at Windsor City Clerk's Office the day of the Charles-Camilla wedding.
• Right at the part of the wedding where someone asks if there should be any reason why these two should not be joined in matrimony, throw your voice and imitate Queen Elizabeth coughing loudly and then saying, "Sorry Charlie!"
• Convert the Royal Carriage to a "low rider".
• Repeatedly blow a dog whistle in front of Prince Charles and ask, "Can you hear that mate?"
• "Goose" the Queen at the wedding reception.
• Reroute the Honeymoon to Zimbabwe.

Kirk...Help Me Kirk!

I stumbled upon this game the other day and after nineteen hours straight of playing "Virtual Trapped in a Well" (all right, it only felt like nineteen hours...it was more like 8 minutes) I think there may be a market for this kind of morbid, desperately sad, yet ironically amusing game.

Hmmm...leave out "amusing" and I think I just described this blog.

In any case, it has inspired me to wonder what other kind of games are out there for people who enjoy depression. Here is what I've dug up on this troubled genre:

• The Dilemma of James Tiberius Kirk - Strangely enough, in this game you won't be playing Captain Kirk of the U.S.S. Enterprise and TV's Star Trek (like you didn't know). Instead you play that alien from The Savage Curtain, the one who killed Abe Lincoln and tried to do in Kirk as well. The object of the game is to lure Kirk to you by repeatedly moaning "Help me Kirk!" in a pathetic, virtual impression of Abe Lincoln. When James Tiberius gets close enough, you can finish him off with a variety of weapons, including a death ray, a giant papier-mache boulder, a swarm of killer bees, or your partner Genghis Khan.
• This Is the Pits - In this poser of a puzzle, you have to find your way across a room full of hidden pits. each loaded with different lethal traps, including poisoned spikes, giant tarantulas, black mambas, acid, hot lava, piranha, an angry Spike Lee, radioactive mothballs, Leeds United, coconut creme pies, and George Plimpton.
• Gilligan Goes Cannibal - This game places you on famed Gilligan's Island, but instead of an endless supply of bananas, fish, and coconut cream pie (Yecch!), the island and surrounding waters have gone barren because of the radiation released by those vegetables that made Gillian super-strong. Those vegetables are all gone now and the only thing left to eat for the castaways is each other. Choose one of the seven characters and make sure you're the last one left alive at the dinner table. This game brings a whole new meaning to the words "How's my Lil' Buddy?" Here the answer is "rare", "medium" or "well-done".
• Gilligan/Survior - A milder variation on the above game where, instead of devouring one another, the castaways form tribes and vote each other off the Island. Unfortunately, along the way you have to put up with Thurston Howell III walking around in the buff.
• Mirage - In this sizzling challenge, you guide a lone explorer through the desert, trying to differentiate the mirages from the real oasis. Yes, oasis as in singular. There's only one of them, and all you have to do is figure out where in 200,000 square miles of desert it is. The charater comes with a choice of supplies: A leaky canteen, rancid beef jerky, a pithhat made of aluminium, and SPF 1 sunblock.
• Starsky Goes Nuts - This retro game borrows the spirit of the recent Ben Stiller/Owen Wilson remake, only with a key difference. In this game Starsky (voiced by Paul Michael Glazer) has gone completely daft and is trying to kill Hutch (voiced by David Soul) by running over him with the Gran Torino. You play Hutch and begin the game from the middle of an empty Wal-Mart parking lot. See if you can last longer than my best time (4 seconds)!
• Andy Rooney Won't Die! - Finally, the most soul sucking game of all is this gem. You are a CBS employee stuck in a room with 60 Minutes commentator Andy Rooney. Rooney has been hypnotized into a zombie by voodoo occultists and is repeating several decades of his annoying and irritable commentaries. You have to find a way to snuff old Andy before his commentaries drive you crazy and your character pulls their brains out through their nose. The catch is that, as a zombie, Andy's really hard to kill, even with the assortment of flamethrowers, uzis, and rotary saws in the room. Play as Mike Wallace, Morely Safer, Ed Bradley, or Leslie Stahl.

Tutti Cable Gigante

Actually Stew, I was enjoying my new supra-cable, with only 190,000 channels. However, there is some redundancy, as 42,000 of them are Fox affiliates.

Nonetheless, you'd be surprised at some of the international networks that have sprung up (have your PAL converter at the ready!):

The Godzilla Channel - All Godzilla, 24/7. either the big lizard is in it or it's not on this superb Slovenian Channel (although all the dubbing seems to be in Swedish). The big plus are all the rarities, such as Godzilla Meets Elvis, Godzilla vs. Tutti Frutti Gigante, Godzilla vs. Earl Warren, Godzilla and the Three Bears, and that nearly unknown classic Godzilla vs. Liz Taylor, notably one of the few times Godzilla was beaten within an inch of his scaly, radioactive life.

Al Gorezeera - Apparently, not only is Al Gore starting a new American television network, but he's also invested in a Middle Eastern channel (broadcast out of Abu Dhabi). See the former Vice-President wage jihad against George Bush, Dick Cheney, and anyone else remotely responsible for his sudden and uncomfortable entry into the private sector. One of the few networks to have forbidden the appearance or mere mention of former President Bill Clinton.

The Channel Channel - The English Channel, live and in HDTV. Thrill to the misty, cold, grey sea between Dover and Calais. When the fish pop out of the water, as they are wont to do every six hours or so, it's classic television magic.

The Chunnel Channel - The tunnel running under the English Channel may be a boring 20 minutes to English and French railway passengers, but to one Welsh television mogul (A Mr. Aberforth L. Llandllyrichllyich) it's a dark and intriguingly mysterious slice of television. Some of the typical programmes: What Was That Car? Repeats of Great Railway Journeys of the English Channel, and My, It's Dark In Here, with Camilla Parker Bowles. Also, they constantly replay Daylight with British dubbing that resets the story in the Chunnel. Stallone is dubbed by none other than Kenneth Branagh.

The Crazy People Who Will Do Anything to Get on TV Channel - This Bengali network actually only shows repeats of American, British, and Japanese "reality shows". Strangely enough, all the programming is dubbed into Greek. The number one program: Battle of the Network Stars.

The Sweetbreads Channel - An international channel dedicated to organ meats of all kinds and their many uses, not all of them as food. Did you know you could wax your car with dingo bladders? I didn't either until I watched this fascinating channel.

The David Hasselhoff/Dan Marino Channel - A Mozambique network with over 75 original programmes based on the uncanny similarity between actor and German singing sensation David Hasselhoff, and former Miami Dolphins quarterback Dan Marino. Includes the programmes Never in the Same Room at the Same Time...Hmmm?, and Marinosky and Hassel, in which two actors play David and Dan as undercover detectives who drive around in a Grand Torino and hang out with their snitch Huggy Bear (played by Al Roker.)

With television like this out there, who needs ABC, BBC, Channel 4, CBS, RAI, NBC, ITV, Doordarshan, Fox, Sky, NHK, CBC, DW, Canal, UPN, CTV, the WB (etc.)?

Can I get me one of them satellites?

Apparently Earl has been on the satellite television again where he has 200,000 channels of the finest content known to man. Meanwhile, I am stuck with 70 channels of the vilest filth that the cable company can pump into my house for the low cost of $50. Not to mention the fact that our newest addition, a six month old Lab/Border Collie, has chewed nearly entirely through the cable going into our wall. Unlike Earl’s dog at least mine seems to like me, even while I am kicking out its teeth. For you PETA types out there that was merely for comedy effect and I really only held its head under water for a minute. Sorry, humor again. Well instead of battling the cable company, which no sane man would do, I am thinking of getting a dish. I have reviewed my options for channels and found a few that make me want to reconsider the idiot box altogether.


Channel 721 – Rooney Cam – Displays images from webcams placed in the dwellings of Mickey and Andy Rooney. This channel is not for those with weak stomachs. Rated TV-MWH

Channel 433 – The War Atrocities Channel – Reenactments of famous war atrocities and biographies of those who committed them. The programming also includes the quiz shows “Name that Atrocity” and “Kerry or Kerrey”. Rated TV-R99

Channel 251 – Washed up MTV – Music videos by washed up acts like Vanilla Ice, The Spice Girls, Poison, Duran Duran, and Jessica & Ashlee Simpson. Yes, I know, but believe me, its coming. Rated TV-HAHAHA

Channel 844 – The Garry Marshall Reject Channel – For all of the successful sitcoms that Garry produced there were an equal number that didn’t make it. Tune in for such unpopular fare as Mork & Mengele, Hapless Days, Potsy loves Fonzie, and Laverne & the Slightly Disturbed Ring-tailed Lemur. Rated TV-GAL

Channel 666 – Nicktoons – Speaks for itself. Rated TV-666

Channel 711 – The Gibberish Network – Her we go da bes stu ya eve see. Go ya jiminy gee gee hontalker goozle gee. Rated TV-ARYEARHIZZY

Channel 505 – Al Gore’s Current Network [blacked out in most areas] - Rated TV-DULL

Channel 277 – The Cockney Knitting Hour – Join 'enrietta and the bloomin' girls and they discuss and participate in some of the most excitin' knittin' on the dial. Right. The bloomin' fun never puts the mockers on and the laughs will make yer want ter come hammer and tack again and again. Rated TV-BLIMEYMATE

Channel 342 – Juan Carlos Vega’s Quizenart Espectáculo – Juan Carlos feeds all manner of carne asadas, postres, tomatillos, pescados, y Salsa de Tripa into his food processor with hilarious results. Rated TV-WOT


Legend for ratings:

TV-MWH Make ya wanna hurl.
TV-R99 Restricted to the slightly deceased.
TV-HAHAHA Ha Ha Ha.
TV-GAL Get a life.
TV-666 Conduit for the anti-Christ
TV-ARYEARHIZZY Get out of the house, now.
TV-DULL Hey it’s AL GORE folks.
TV-BLIMEYMATE I mean blimey.
TV-WOT Waste of Time (Productions that is)

Hotman? Notman! (With apologies to Gene Shalit)

This Japanese TV series simply doesn't live up to it's name. Hotman? Not according to the series description. Therefore, in the interest of righting this terrible wrong (and because I'm bored with American and British TV tonight), I have taken the liberty of re-writing the blurb, in order to make Hotman truly Hotman.

(Producers at KIKU-TV in Oahu can reach me at my address on the DOUI front page, should you want me to spice up summaries of your other programming, such as Hagure Keiji 17, Karada Genkika, Women on the Onsen, Classic Abarenbo Shogun, and TBS Sunday Morning (which is apparently not the story of Ted Turner's sudden and amazing transformation into a giant Shogun Warrior Transformer...although with me writing, it most certainly would be!)

**********

HOT MAN (Hotto Man...no seriously!)

Sorimachi Takashi stars as Enzo, the head of a household consisting of himself and his four younger siblings, all of whom are radioactive mutants capable of destroying the world with a single toothpick. Each sibling has a different radioactive father, except for the twins, who were cloned from winged alien dinosaurs.

Enzo, who supports his family working as a high school art teacher, is in reality the famous and most honorable Hotman!™, a superhero whose powers consist of super-strength, super-speed, and the super ability to make any chick do his bidding, even Cher.

He has his life turned upside-down when 5-year-old Nanami (Yamauchi Nana) is abandoned on his doorstep with a note claiming that he is her father (because although he can get any chick to do his bidding, he's an absolute idiot when it comes to birth control.) Enzo accepts that possibility, knowing he is a birth control simpleton, but he has no idea who her mother is, or even what planet she may be from.

Nanami suffers from a severe skin disorder that Enzo attributes to his sorry younger days, when he had super-acne. He switches his whole family over to a natural food diet, in order to help Nanami wind up less spotty. He is so determined to raise his daughter well, that he seems to have no time for a love life anymore, but he finds himself being drawn to Misuzu (Yada Akiko), a fellow teacher and her twelve sisters, all named Miyoko (The Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders).

Little does he know that Misuzu is in fact an alien she-devil bent on conquering the world, one simpleminded superhero at a time. Amazingly they fall in love and, together with his siblings, the twelve Miyokos, and Nanami, who turns out to be one half of famed Japanese rock stars Hi Hi Puffy Amiyumi, they travel to the twelfth dimension, also known as Utah, where 13 wives, 12 of which have the same name, while not legal, are overlooked by the local legal authorities.

Elvinova has just re-entered the building!

Just for the record. This is what I envision Elvinova looking like as a B&W 1950's MGM costume spectacular.

Elvinova has left the building...

And so, apparently, have his trousers. Thank you VERY much!!!!!!!!! I think this could give rise to a whole new genre of cheap films like the Bikini craze of the 1960s brought us Frankie and Annette, Elvis, and Harvey Lembeck.

Ladies and Gentlemen...Elvinova!

The BBC's latest recommended drama is Casanova, starring David Tennant (purportedly the next Dr. Who) as the notorious 18th Century boudoir gymnast. The hilarious website for the pic advertises as follows:

"Men admire him... or want to punch his lights out. Women adore him. He's cool, he's got the gift of the gab, and 18th century Europe is his playground. "

He's cool? He's got the gift of the gab? What, does he ride a motorcycle and play guitar too? It sounds like the advert for an Elvis movie.

Come to think of it, what would Elvis be like as Casanova? (Begin dream sequence now...)

[A ladies sitting room in Paris, circa 1760. Two young women are sitting on a sofa, wearing traditonal dress of the era, and sipping mai tais. They chatter expectantly in French.]

Florette: Êtes-vous sûr il serez-vous ici bientôt ?

Marie: Eengleesh Florette! We 'ave no subtitles for zees website.

Florette: Sorry, Marie...I fought we were still on zee Bee Bee See website. Anyway, do you zink he will be 'ere soon?

Marie: Oui, I zink so. Oh, listen! [They both put zeir 'ands to their ears and...oh, sorry, they both put their hands to their ears and lean sideways towards the window.] I can 'ear his motorsicle right now!

Florette: Motorsicle? Marie, it is 1760, is it not?

Marie: Oui, but we are also in a parody of a cheesy MGM film of zee late 1950's. 'istorical accuracy eez zee least of our concerns.

Florette: Zat also explains why we bof zound like Eenszpector Clouseau!

Marie: [Still listening] It eez depheneetly 'im! It eez a Harley!

[A Harley-Davidson comes crashing through the window, driven by a dark-haired, tanned young man, wearing a leather jacket and an acoustic guitar slung over his back. It is Elvis. He lands perfectly on the coffee table in front of the women, smashing in to pieces. He skids the motorbike sideways to a halt in a corner of the room, sets the kickstand, cuts the motor and gets off (...the bike, he gets off the bike you filthy people).]

Florette: Zat was a most eempressive entre-vouz!

Marie: Especeeleey as we are on zee third floor!

Elvis: Thank you, thank you very much...I did have to use that footman outside to get the bike airborne.

[Cut to footman outside in traditional 18th century garb, with a big tire track across his chest.]

Elvis: ...and then I bounced off of the roof of the greenhouse over there.

[Cut to a traditionally clad gardener, standing in a shattered glass greenhouse, with large shards of glass stuck in the ground, plants, and his head.]

Elvis: I almost missed the window, but I was able to ricochet off o' Genghis Khan right at the end.

[Cut to John Wayne as Genghis Khan in "The Conquerer"...which is always good for a laugh. He is wearing the traditional garments of the Mongols, except for a large Stetson and spurs.]

Florette: Oh! Eet eez too much for me! Take me you brute!

Elvis: Take you where? [pause] Oh, I get it! [He smiles broadly and does a uniquely Elvis thing with his hips.]

Marie: Take me also, for I am overcome wiz passion as well, and, being French, am not at all bothered by theez sort of menage-a-trois zing.

[Elvis walks over to the two women. The camera pans up to the roof as soaring violin music comes up on the soundtrack, suddenly replaced by "Hounddog". Birds fly from the roof of the home. In the distance, a dog howls. Below, the housemaids are clumsily performing CPR on the footman and Genghis Khan.]

[Fade to Elvis and the two young women, dressed as before, except the women are now wearing each others dresses, and Elvis is wearing a sarong. The are all smoking cigars.]

Elvis: How about a song girls?

Florette: Oh! 'E 'as just zee gift of zee gab!

Marie: Oui, 'e dooz eenzeed 'ave zees gipht zat yoo haphc zedd 'e dooz, oui, 'e dooz hach zeez gphtcht!

Elvis: [Sings] I'm sure I don't know what the hell you ladies are talkin' about...

[Cut to an extended musical number featuring Elvis, Florette, Marie, the now deceased footman, Genghis Khan, who made a smashing recovery (in part due to the extraordinary resilience of Stetsons), the housemaids, the bleeding-but-surprisingly-talented-on-the-drums gardener, several nuns, King Louis XIV, Buzz Aldrin, and Evel Knevel, who jumps over 21 carriages in the background.]