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B.R.K. Alder
27 Blencowe Street
West Leederville 6007
Western Australia
Ph. 08 9381-3978
Roll Beginning Credits.
BLOGGSWORLD
The End of all Life
Episode Four
The Sixlegs Conspiracy
by
Bart Alder
© Copyright
2000
Fade
in. INT – Night
The
Bloggs Mansion. The Bloggs family are in their usual repose. DAD has a beer and
is holding it vertical with his gut. The balancing act is impressive since he
is also unconscious and occasionally snoring. MUM, BILLY and JEMIMA are bored,
once again, waiting for Sale of the
Century.
In
the foreground, coming into focus are TUTTLE SCUTTLE, the guerilla-style
Rambo-roach, complete with army fatigues and beret and BERNARD SQUEEK the
tuxedoed anchor-mouse, introduced late in episode two, Y2K.
Good
evening viewers, I’m Bernard SQUEEK, your host for tonight’s edition of the
Bloggs Family... and in spite of the house-wide death penalty imposed on all
rodents interviewing insects, I’m standing here with fearless
roach-about-drain, leader of the Insect Liberation Front and author of All Cock, No Roach, a book about roachy
relationships on the rocks, Tuttle Scuttle.
TUTTLE
Hi
Bernard. Good evening everybody.
BERNARD
You’re
the son of the great and sadly missed war hero Galahad Scuttle.
TUTTLE
Correct.
BERNARD
Who
was viciously murdered by a member of the Bloggs family...
TUTTLE
Yes...
it was the mother who killed him, but the son purchased the spray to use as a
flame thrower on his sister. The father financed it since the boy stole the
money from his wallet... They were all
in on it, they all knew what that poison could do... there was none of this only obeying orders stuff.
BERNARD
...
Ladies and gentlemen, this is hard to believe I know but those four blob-like
growths seemingly glued to that crusty, cheap furniture may look like a modern
nuclear family spending valuable quality time together... but in reality
they’re four steel-hardened maniacs, waiting for the next moment to strike.
Just two weeks ago the Bloggs Mob viciously sprayed spritely Galahad Scuttle
and flyboy Frank Buzzby... personal friends of mine... with a thick rain of
fast moving poison, ejected from that gruesome, biological weapon of mass
destruction, the can of acid death.
TUTTLE
(His voice expressing his
utter astonishment.)
While
he was being interviewed... by you... live on this very show, Bernard! Such
contempt for life... such contempt for broadcasting standards...
BERNARD
We
tastefully segue now to a highly edited replay of the multiple assassination in
an unadulterated plea for pathos and unquestioning audience empathy...
Cut to: FLASHBACK INT – Day. The Bloggs mansion lounge
room.
GALAHAD’s
introduction.
BERNARD
Thankyou for joining
me here, for this special telecast indeed. My name is Bernard (He says it like
Burrnard.) SQUEEK. And I’m standing here with Galahad Scuttle.
A roach scuttles out from behind the can.
GALAHAD
G’day Burrnard. Thanks
for having me on the show.
BERNARD
Galahad, what can you
tell me about the people who live here?
GALAHAD
Well they’re slobs of
course...
Cut to: FLASHBACK
INT – Day. The Bloggs mansion lounge room.
GALAHAD’s death...
We hear a spray.
Mortein, wielded by mum.
FRANK
THE CAN OF ACID DEATH!
BERNARD drops the
microphone and runs off in haste as FRANK and GALAHAD lie on their backs dying.
MUM
I’m not having insects giving interviews
to rodents in MY lounge room.
Cut to: BERNARD (Live from the Bloggs household.)
BERNARD
Tuttle,
having just relived the slaying of your father and my own highly heroic escape
in grinding slow motion detail, may I ask you with casual insensitivity, how
are you feeling right at this moment?
TUTTLE
Well
let’s just say that I’m interested to see where you’ll be hosting the show next
week Bernard. The Bloggs family are finished. This is our house, somehow they don’t realise how rude that is... killing
two of us in our own home. So that’s what’s we’re going to do to them...
BERNARD
(Stunned, apprehensive.)
What?
TUTTLE
Stay
tuned viewers. All will be revealed. Let’s just say that the Insect Liberation
Front are staking their claim here tonight. We’re not just doing it for
ourselves though, were doing it for all
insectkind.
BERNARD
Well
punters it sounds like we’re in for an interesting night’s viewing. You heard
it here first, the freedom fighting ILF are planning a military action against
the heartless Bloggs Mob. Meanwhile it’s news time here in (Derisively.) humanland, and so we’re cutting now live
to the evil Bloggs clan for their reaction to the day’s current affairs.
With the eerie and dramatically chilling music we
quickly...
Cut to: INT – Night
The Bloggs mansion lounge room. All four Bloggses are
still immobile. They are watching a live interview between JOHN HOWARD and
MERVIN WIMPLE. We hear HOWARD speaking but see the Bloggs family themselves.
They are expressionless and then all as one, they scratch the same part of
their face, pulling exactly the same expression. DAD does so while remaining
unconscious and balancing the beer bottle on his stomach.
HOWARD
‘tis
like the time Costello was accused of not having what it took to stay in
politics. But he showed everyone. Not only did his blood tests show he had no
moral fibre whatsoever, but his X-rays clearly showed no trace of any spine. He
was destined for a career on the front bench with a bill of health like that.
When the scans of his head came back negative... well once I had medical proof
that the bastard had no mind of his own I knew he was perfect for the
treasury...
MERVIN
Why
was he perfect for the treasury if he had no mind of his own?
HOWARD
Are
you kidding me, if I put someone with a brain in that position I might never be able to implement my tax
policy! None of those other bastards
have any brains... Who the hell do you think comes up with the ideas in this
party? Peter Reith?
HOWARD laughs mockingly at his own joke. He continues to
laugh harder as Mervin clears his throat and says...
MERVIN
(Quite seriously.)
Amanda
Vanstone?
By now HOWARD is now out of control with laughter.
MERVIN
John
Hewson?
HOWARD stops laughing and sounds mennacing.
HOWARD
Never
say that name. And I mean NEVER.
At the word NEVER, there is a lightning strike outside the
Bloggs Mansion. DAD wakes up. He spills his beer and begins to frantically mop
up the beer with his shirt sleeve before his wife notices. She’s pretending not
to notice because she can’t be bothered yelling, he’s checking with sideways
glances to see if he’s going to get away with it. After a few dabs, sufficient
beer has spread into the carpet that he feels safe.
DAD goes to drink from his beer but it’s empty. He looks
around a few times to see if anyone is looking. He looks at his beer-soaked
shirt sleeve and decides to suck on it. Just before it enters his mouth we...
Cut to: INT – Night. The TV studio.
HOWARD is dressed like William Shakespeare. He has the
same hairdo, the same ruffled poet shirt,
feathered quill, parchment and ink well as he sits at the desk. He seems
to be growing a goatee. He also has his ear pierced like the Bard. The
interviewer MERVIN WIMPLE is dressed in a standard professional suit. He looks
serious and tries to look smart even though it is painfully running against the
odds that he will succeed.
MERVIN WIMPLE
So
Mr. Howard, what is the new scheme...
the one which you published the 150 000 word preamble to in the national press
yesterday?
HOWARD
Well,
as we all know, we’ve had work for the dole in place for some time. WFTD was a
way of annoying people off welfare by making them get off their fat, sweaty
arses and do crappy work for no appreciable increase in money. Now we’re
implementing the spell for the dole examination, which, by the way, came with a
gripping prologue and an index which was second to none in character
development...
WIMPLE
Spell
for the dole is your planned literacy test. Welfare recipients who fail the
test... what will happen to them?
HOWARD
Nothing
too drastic. They’ll have the words Dopey Bludger stamped on their files and
tatooed on their foreheads. And of course all welfare payments will cease
immediately.
WIMPLE
Oh,
that’s terrible.
HOWARD
It’s
the government’s opinion that these Australian people of no particular
nationality deserve to go hungry until they can learn how to spell our
language. The queen’s language. Most literary scholars agree that English is
indeed, god’s preferred language.
God’s native language if you like.
So...
Although
of course he doubtless speaks a few others.
So
unemployed people who can’t write or read English will have no money and no way
of getting any.
HOWARD
You
see the genius of the programme is its simplicity. Yes, we think of it as encouragement
in motivating dopey bludgers of every nationality to find work or to die
trying. To think anything else would be un-Australian.
WIMPLE
How
easy is it to find work when you can’t read or write?
HOWARD
Oh,
almost impossible. For a start you can’t read the employment section of the
newspaper, so you never know what’s up for grabs and even if you did, you
couldn’t write a reply. If by some miracle you got an interview by getting a
friend to write your letter for you, you’d never get the job once it’s known
you’re illiterate. Unless it’s a job pulling weeds.
WIMPLE
They
might benefit from training programmes...
HOWARD
You
a lefty?
WIMPLE
Well
no, but it seems to me that a lot of illiterate and people of foreign origins
will die of starvation under this scheme.
HOWARD
And
the opposition say we’re doing nothing to lower unemployment! It’s a scandal!
Beazley’s unruly mob of braindead mediocrities are a limo-driven bunch of caviare-munching,
fatcats who can’t stand to see liberal rationalism proposing great and
eco-friendly, low-tax solutions. It’s our ambition to have the best educated
unemployed sector in the world and I think we’re already a long way towards
achieving that. People accuse me of having no vision but I can see as well as
the next man.
His glasses fall off. He fumbles around for them and
gropes under the table as he speaks.
HOWARD
The modest 150 000 word preamble you were referring to
earlier was a cute little page turner I crafted to introduce the Australian
public to my Juggle Razor Sharp Machetes
Until You Dob In A Pot Dealer For The Dole Scheme. It ought to reduce
unemployment figures drastically. At the same time it’s beautifully consistent
with our tough on drugs campaign... and
it should provide wads of valuable information to the police.
CRUNCH!
HOWARD comes up from under the desk, one lens is shattered
and the opposite arm has broken off his glasses.
HOWARD
Those
ALP phonies are just sticking the boot into me ‘cos Kim knows he can’t juggle a
single thought let alone three machetes. The shadow minister for sports and
recreations can’t even run without forgetting to breathe.
Cut to: INT – Night.
The Bloggs mansion. We see the Bloggs family still passed
out and BERNARD in the foreground.
BERNARD
Crashing
news tonight ladies and gentleman, we cross now to Berlioz Scuttle, second
cousin to the recently interviewed Tuttle Scuttle, at Liberal Party
Headquarters for this live report.
Cut to: INT – Evening
We see SIR ROBERT MENZIES’ brain in a jar. His eyebrows
are still in place. A hand sticks out of the bottom of the jar and it can
write. MALCOLM FRASER is there, ANDREW PEACOCK is using a remote control
labeled John Howard. JH is a robot.
BERLIOZ
Thankyou
Bernard, yes shocking news tonight here at Liberal party headquarters, that not
only is John Howard a cyborg, but tonight it seems he’s being remote controlled
by none other than long time Liberal front-bencher and publicly retired
playboy, Andrew Peacock.
BERNARD
(Voice only)
This
is unbelievable.
BERLIOZ
Absolutely
crashing developments Bernard. Crashing. What can we say, surely this means
trouble for the Liberal party. Exactly how the constitution handles this kind
of thing isn’t really known at this stage. We’ve contacted our lawyers...
Cut to: Footage of sharks tearing apart a huge hunk of
meat.
BERLIOZ
(Voice Over.)
And
they’re working on it. They’re still struggling to find out whether this action
can be condoned as pardonable under the definition of mateship. If Peacock can claim that he’s using Howard as a mate,
then this might yet prove to be
constitutional...
Cut to: INT – Day.
A courtroom. A rubber shark in a business suit stands in
front of a judge, lodging a protest. A quick eye scanning the document might
see that the shark works for the legal firm Crunch,
Chew and Swallow. The words Dramatically
Dramatic Dramatisation appear at
the bottom of the screen.
Cut to: INT – Night.
BERNARD in the Bloggs mansion.
Incredible.
Cut to: INT – Night.
Liberal Party Headquarters. The JOHN HOWARD interview as
seen from the point of view of ANDREW PEACOCK.
GAIL
Now...
about the preamble to the constitution.
PEACOCK
(Into microphone)
Yes?
HOWARD
(On TV screen, same
intonation as Peacock)
Yes?
GAIL
Why
do you feel it is appropriate to include god in the first sentence?
PEACOCK
Do
you believe in god and the resurrection of Jesus, Gail?
HOWARD
Do
you believe in god and the resurrection of Jesus, Gail?
GAIL
No.
PEACOCK
Then
you’ll probably burn in hell and since I won’t be meeting you in heaven I don’t
give a sideways rat’s bum what you
think, here on earth.
HOWARD
...sideways
rat’s bum what you think, here on
earth.
FRASER
(Talking over the top of
Howard.)
This
is going terribly. Somehow everything we’re saying makes us sound heartless
even though we mean every word with such purity, such compassion in our hearts.
PEACOCK
Quiet,
Fraser, I’m trying to hear the next question!
HOWARD
Quiet,
Fraser, I’m trying to hear the next question!
GAIL
I’m
sorry?
FRASER
It
doesn’t matter what the question is you buffoon, we can give any answer we
want. The art is to speak first and answer questions later. You’ve always been
hopeless in interviews.
PEACOCK turns off the mike before he whispers...
PEACOCK
(Defensively)
Have
not.
FRASER
Well
look how far you got doing it all on your own.
Fraser gestures to A JOHN HEWSON robot which sits in the
corner, half its head hanging off and wires pouring out.
FRASER
Hell,
half of Australia thought Hewson was a two dimensional robot. They never
suspected that he was really a three dimensional robot; the two dimensions
being provided by you. Before me and
Menzies came along... even after stabbing Hawke in the back, introducing a host
of new taxes and ruining the economy, Keating
could still beat your (He scoffs.) candidate
in an election.
PEACOCK
Look
don’t be jealous Fraser... it’s my turn to be Howard - so back off. Go play
stone, paper, scissors with Menzies.
FRASER
Ooooh.
Touchy!
One of MENZIES’ eyebrows goes up. His hand writes on the
notepad. Male menopause. FRASER
grunts.
(Secretly to MENZIES one good ear, stuck to the side of
the vat containing his brain.)
Bronwyn
Bishop reckons he’s gay.
(Voice Over.)
This
is amazing news, Belioz. Tell me, how did you come across this secret cabal?
BERLIOZ
I
spoke to a fly on the wall.
(Voice Over.)
Uh-huh.
BERLIOZ
He
was friends with a worm who knew Fraser personally. The worm told the fly
everything before the early bird got him. But that bird was suspiciously early, if you get my
drift... like he knew the worm was
going to be there.
(Voice Over.)
Hmmm,
sounds like he was eaten for what he knew.
BERLIOZ
Absolutely...
but I had no proof. And, when shortly after, the fly who told me was also zapped in suspicious circumstances
I felt a strong moral duty to act on the fly’s information. So I came here with
the camera crew and waited for the interview to take place.
Cut to: INT – Night. The Bloggs mansion lounge room.
BERNARD
I’m
afraid that I have to leave you there for the time being as we have to cut to a
commercial break. We’ll be back with more sensation after these messages...
Cut to: Fake Commercial
ANNOUNCER
There’s
only one hundred and seventy five days till Christmas so rush in now to grab
those Boils-Fussey bargains. Sheep scrotum ugboots for the toddlers.
The words New Line
- $2.00 a pair flash on and off.
ANNOUNCER
Slashed
to just two dollars a pair...
Click. BILLY changes the channel.
Cut to: INT – Day. A Television Studio.
KIM BEAZLEY is being interviewed by SIMONE TWINKLE. KIM is
already mid-waffle.
BEAZLEY
The
worst thing about being in opposition? Well, you have to call yourself shadow
minister for this or shadow that and
it’s kind of annoying being such a big guy standing in a small man’s shadow...
the jokes are annoying.
SIMONE
Anything
good about being in opposition?
BEAZELY
Oh
yeah, absolutely. For a start you’re not responsible for anything when the shit
hits the fan. All you have to do is stand back and boo. And when the bastards
do well, you just stir some shit to the surface.
SIMONE
How
might you go about that?
BEAZLEY
Nothing
simpler Simone, you just wonder into the nearest radio station, get your butt
on an extra sturdy chair next to a spit protected microphone and sadly remind
everybody of the number of people dying of heroin... or drone on in soundbites
about underpaid nurses, get a strike happening, waffle on about discriminatory
immigration, the GST or something. There’s an ocean of shit out there. I can
stir with the best of them.
SIMONE
You
just divert the media...
BEAZLEY
Well,
yes and no. I mean those things matter too. It’s just nice to be in opposition
because you get to talk about shit that matters and distract people from any Liberal successes.
Successes
like?
Well
the Libs are economic rationalists you see, so although they’re great for the
for the rich they’re lousy for the middle classes and insufferable to the poor.
So you see things like more investment, improved conditions for small business,
lower interest rates, less red tape, more accountable government, less powerful
unions... stuff like that.
All
sounds too good to be true.
BEAZLEY
Yeah,
if you’re Kerry Packer. For most of us it’s a struggle to see how we’re any
better off. The average wage slave has to beg for his job every time his
contract is up while the guys at the top double their salaries each week.
SIMONE
Uh-huh.
BEAZLEY
Maybe
it’s cheaper, relatively speaking, to buy a house today than ten years ago, but
are we any better as people? As a
society? We’ve had five times the industrial action, youth suicide is up, drug
addiction and drug related deaths are up, prostitution is through the roof and
violent crime is so out of control that even the police are starting to do something.
You
make it look so easy... you just talk in vague platitudes and make any progress
look so… pointless.
BEAZLEY
Being
in opposition is easy, you keep
pretty much all of the perks, still have some of the power, take a portion of
the credit but none of the blame. And all you can do from opposition is win
office and then you get to meddle in the lives of everyday people... Either
way...
Heaven
on a stick...
BEAZLEY
Yeah.
Well I could certainly get used to the lifestyle.
Except
that you don’t get to pass new laws... in opposition.
BEAZLEY
No,
but we do get to object to all new
laws and we were still able to make
it possible for Brian Harradine to seize control of the country by holding up
his numbers in the senate. There are some battles you can’t win, but you can
always try your hardest to make sure that you’re not the only loser.
But
no matter who wins or loses we always have the same old faces, the same old
politics night after night.
Why
thankyou. We all try hard.
Elections
come and go, people and Simon Creans emerge, but mostly, the political scene
feels like the same hagglers have been in it forever... as though Robert
Menzies and Bob Hawke are still in control. All the arguments feel ancient, all
the ideas are dead.
BEAZLEY
And
let’s not overlook the fact that most people end up voting for the party they
hate the least, not the one they trust to represent them, cos nobody with even
half a sixpack in the fridge trusts any of us
Canberra mob to represent a dead flyblown roo on an Alice Springs roadside.
GAIL
So
what’s left for people to care about in politics? What’s left for them to believe
in? Between the lies and the self serving policies?
BEAZLEY
Haven’t
a clue. Personally I don’t know why anybody pays us any attention at all.
Federal or state.
The Bloggs Mansion... BERNARD is looking very frazzled and
confused.
BERNARD
I’m
afraid that we’ll have to leave Kim Beazley’s unusually candid pre-recorded interview there because I
have another sensational news flash, this time, we cross over LIVE to the home
of Kim Beazley, leader of the opposition. Our correspondent there is Fillimore
Crawley.
FILLIMORE CRAWLEY, a nerdy-looking spider is in his web in
a corner of a room in the BEAZLEY household. Family are watching TV. Big KIM is
absent.
FILLIMORE
Hey
Bernard.
BERNARD
Fillimore,
what can you tell us?
FILLIMORE CRAWLEY
Well
as you know the interview you were just watching with Kim Beazley was recorded
three hours ago in Perth. As we go to air live, he is sitting in that toilet,
in his West Australian suburban home, alone... Being an arachnid, I was not completely repulsed by entering the
small room, two hours ago, to observe him. Truth be known I though he might
produce a smell which would attract flies and I was a tad peckish.
BERNARD
Enough
details Fillimore, there are mammals watching who are trying to digest other
mammals.
FILLIMORE
Well
what I saw was completely unexpected. Here, roll the footage.
Cut to: KIM BEAZLEY. He itches his face in the mirror.
Then he has a real good scratch.
KIM
Oh
hell!
He pulls off a mask. Underneath it is none other than...
FILLIMORE
(Voice Over.)
Robert
James Lee Hawke.
(Voice Over.)
Incredible!
HAWKE
(In delight as he can finally
scratch his face. Pulling faces like a content cat he purrs his usual vowel
roll call...)
Aaaaooowwwaaah!
HAWKE looks at his reflection.
HAWKE
Bloody
mask ruins me hair.
His hair is immaculate, it shines.
HAWKE
Could
take hours to get it back into shape.
Aaaaooowwwaaah!
He puts the mask of BEAZLEY on and sits down on the loo
where we, mercifully, fade out.
Cut to: INT – Night The Bloggs mansion.
FILLIMORE
(Voice Over.)
Incredible?
BERNARD
Truly
incredible but I’m afraid that your scoop will have to end there as we have
even more controversial fast-breaking news. We cross now to the West Indies
where Percival CREEK is standing by with a special exclusive report.
Cut to: INT – Day. West Indies.
PERCIVAL is a large cricket. He’s green and ugly in an
almost forboding way. He sounds like Michael Holding except that he speaks
clearly enough to be easily understood.
PERCIVAL
Thankyou
Bernard, yes tonight in the West Indies, the most sensational news of all...
Cut to: INT – Day. West Indies.
ELVIS, JIM MORRISON, KURT COBAIN, JANIS JOPLIN, MARILYN
MONROE and JACK KENNEDY at a post brunch cocktail party.
(Voice only.)
I
can see that’s Jack Kennedy with his hand on Monroe’s bum, but that long-haired
guy next to Elvis, is that Jim Morrison or John Lennon? I can't tell... being a
rodent, I can only really see things properly when they move.
(Voice only.)
They’re
all humans to me... I have trouble telling them apart at this distance. Only
when I smell them can I be sure which is which...
When MARILYN slaps him, JACK KENNEDY leaves the
festivities and goes to his room. He opens up a computer laptop and gets
CLINTON on the other end of a closed circuit conversation.
KENNEDY
Bill...
CLINTON
Jack...
KENNEDY
How’s
Washington?
CLINTON
No
different. Shitty weather, shitty people, shitty place.
KENNEDY AND CLINTON
Most
powerful city in the world!
They laugh at their great friendship. The world has
likened them since Blinky BILL became a presidential candidate and here we see
their solidarity reflected in this moment of democratic togetherness.
KENNEDY
Now,
Bill...
CLINTON
Yep...
KENNEDY
We
know it has something to do with the insects but we’re not sure why they’re
doing it now.
CLINTON
But
it’s a disaster. All the world’s politicians are telling the truth...
KENNEDY
It’s
getting to everybody. The military, civilians, all over the world. So far we
think it’s in the drinking water and-
CLINTON
I’ve
got people saying it’s in the air.
NIXON steps out of the shadows from behind JFK.
NIXON
It is the air. We have a note from the
insects... It’s written in roach footprints.
Cut to: INT – Day.
TUTTLE SCUTTLE and
who we met at the beginning of the show, his cousin CRUMB SCUTTLE stepping in
ink and writing a letter. TUTTLE gives the camera a cheeky smile.
TUTTLE
How
do you spell Toksik?
CRUMB SCUTTLE
T,O,X,I,C.
TUTTLE
(Really surprised.)
You
sure?
CRUMB
Yep.
I saw it on the side of a can of acid death once and I’ll never forget it.
Cut to: INT – Night
West Indies, JACK KENNEDY’s hotel room.
KENNEDY
What
does it say?
(Reading.)
Our
home, our planet, our sun, our life. Have some toxic gas of your own. A charm
on you to make you tell the truth. This one’s for Galahad.
(No longer reading.)
Who
the hell’s Galahad?
KENNEDY
Toxic
gas of your own? Oh no... of course...
NIXON
Alibaster7.
It only affects us. It leaves humans intact.
KENNEDY
Incredible...
are you sure?
NIXON
I
cannot tell a lie.
NIXON breaks down, it’s too much for him.
CLINTON
I
know I can’t. Been trying to bullshit
all day. It’s fucking awful. Glad as hell that whole Lewinsky thing isn’t
starting now...
KENNEDY
I
can’t lie either. I think everybody around the world is going through this. We
have to initiate plan Omega immediately.
Agreed.
CLINTON
Jack...
Since you can’t bullshit me now... there’s something I always wanted to know...
why did you fake your own death?
KENNEDY
Fun.
NIXON
I
can’t stand it anymore.
NIXON morphs into an ALIEN, similar to the standard alien
mythology, ET, Close encounters, Whitley Streiber, X-Files type alien features
but somehow more comical and goofy looking. KENNEDY does the same. CLINTON
stays as is.
NIXON
This
being human crap gives me the Watergates.
KENNEDY
I
know what you mean. I don’t know how you keep it up Bill. 24 Hours a day...
CLINTON
Viagra.
But of course... that’s all stopped now. No more screwing around for this little extra terrestrial-
CLINTON stops...
CLINTON
Hey!!!
I just lied my ass off... the Alibaster 7 is wearing off! (Reflectively) Of
course I am breathing specially
filtered air now. Have been for the last two hours as a precautionary measure.
Drinking specially filtered water and groping specially filtered interns too.
KENNEDY
I’ve
gotta get some fresh air and start bullshitting or Marilyn’s going to find out
about Grace Kelly and me and she’ll get back with Elvis.
NIXON
I’ve
got to start bullshitting before I have a nervous breakdown. I’ve never gone
this long before without committing some act of rampant dishonesty... people
will start to talk...
CLINTON
We’ve
all gotta start bullshitting or else
it’ll be world war three for god’s sake. Once the humans find out we’re here...
You guys sound like you need clean oxygen fast...
NIXON and KENNEDY both wonder where they can get oxygen
bottles from at this time of night.
NIXON AND KENNEDY
Hospital!
They both exit. PERCIVAL steps into view.
BERNARD
(Voice only)
This
is incredible.
PERCIVAL
You
said it Bernard. Not only is John Howard a robot, not only is Kim Beazley
actually Bob Hawke, not only are Elvis, Monroe, James Dean, Jack Kennedy and
Richard Nixon alive, but some of them are definitely aliens who, for a certain
time only, are incapable of lying.
BERNARD
(Voice Over.)
It
sounds as though there are aliens all over the planet. Even Bill Clinton...
PERCIVAL
Yes,
it does seem that way. In one of the most unusual cases of life imitating art,
earth is in fact in the middle of an X-Piles, ongoing, hostile alien takeover.
BERNARD
(Voice Over.)
Hmmm.
As we go to the break, we ask the question...
Cut to: Posed close up photos of HAWKE, PEACOCK, FRASER
and MENZIES, the cheesier the better, we hear X-Files type music.
BERNARD
(Voice only)
Which
of these men are aliens?
The photos of the four retired politicos grow antennae and
big fangs.
Cut to: INT- Studio.
ITCHY BENAUD, a flea.
ITCHY
Good
evening and welcome to our Croak-a-Cola Classic Conspiracies Contest and
tonight we have an absolute beauty for you. Which of the following ex-members
of parliament are aliens. Dial 008 122 222 if you think the charismatic former
national godhead, Bob Hawke is an alien. That’s Bob Hawke only. Phone 008 122
212 if you think controversial former Liberal prime minister Malcolm Fraser
comes from another planet. And if you think that Hawke and the secret Liberal
triumvirate of Fraser, Andrew Peacock and the jar containing the brain of
Robert Menzies are all having Scotty
beam them about until the cows come home then you will need to dial 008 122
122. Phone in the next five minutes to win some great prizes.
Cut to: Int- Night The Bloggs mansion.
BERNARD
We’ll
be back with a winner and the surprising answers...
Cut to: INT- Night. Bloggs lounge room, they are watching
adverts.
Cut to: long distance telephone commercial.
A GIRL sitting thoughtfully on a rock sees a package
floating towards her with the word hope on it, as she goes to grab it
she remembers her MOTHER. The word on the package turns into guilt.
MOTHER
You
don’t love us any more. You never call... We understand... it’s all our fault
for raising such an ungrateful child...
GIRL sees the number on her caller ID panel and let’s the
answering machine get it.
VOICE OVER
Caller
ID. Just one of the many arse-saving services we now offer as a monthly rental
service rather than an ongoing, pay once and keep it for life feature, to screw
more money out of you.
Credits:
BILL$TRA. with doctored $ logo
SINGER
(Singing BILL$TRA’s theme to
Telstra’s music.)
Taking
it from you easy.
Cut to: Bloggs mansion. BERNARD.
BERNARD
Thankyou
for joining us, we last left you with the ponderous question of whether either
of these two men...
Cut to: Pictures of BEAZLEY and HOWARD.
BERNARD
Who
are in fact these four men...
Cut to: Pictures of HAWKE, PEACOCK, FRASER and MENZIES.
BERNARD
Are
actually from the same planet as these two guys...
Cut to: Picture of KENNEDY and NIXON as aliens.
BERNARD
Which
raises the question... who’s an alien and who isn’t.
Cut to: TUTTLE SCUTTLE who has the floor.
TUTTLE
An
interesting point Bernard. (To camera with a sly wink.) I mean I don’t want to
incite paranoia and mania in the streets or anything... but how well do you
know the person sitting next to you? Have you ever wondered about that
rhinoceros-like snore of theirs? Does it sometimes sound as though they have a
congested third lung? Now might be a good time to ask your housemates and
friends exactly which planet they’re from...
BERNARD
Absolutely
Tuttle. Don’t wait another minute viewers, there’s no time like the present to
check the species of everyone you know. While I have you here Tuttle, I must
ask about this alien truth drug, Alabaster 7...
TUTTLE
What
can I tell you. It was developed by guys in the US military who captured an
alien and tested it on mixtures of gases until they found something they could
use. They discovered Alibaster7 by accident when an epileptic painter working
under a flickering neon light knocked a tin of Alibaster paint near a worker. A
worker who was soon in the presence of the alien. Just the paint evaporating
from the worker’s shoes made the alien break down and say that he missed his
mum.
BERNARD
Wow... so it’s effective in minute concentrations...
The
CIA refined it through six more generations so that even one part per trillion
could do the job. They then went on to produce enough of it to cover the globe
in sufficient quantities, so that aliens could be discovered across the globe.
That was back maybe eight months after the second world war when neon light
tubes were still top secret.
BERNARD
Why
was Alibaster7 never used?
TUTTLE
Well
the aliens got control of the military. People think what happened in ’47 at
Roswell was a cover up by the US military. Like hell... Roswell was when the
aliens invaded them... three days
later, they owned Washington. Area 51 and all that Hangar 18 stuff is standard
misinformation. Nobody knows the true story because it’s unbelievable. You’d be
locked up for saying it, but it’s all true. The military aren’t hiding alien
technology, the US military are almost all
aliens. That’s what’s hidden!
BERNARD
Is
that dinkum?
TUTTLE
Well
I only skim read a review of a book about the making of the film... but that’s
what I remember. Yes, you see what happens is that they make human-looking
replicas. Who can shape shift... back into aliens.
BERNARD
Are
JFK and so on replicas of the real people, or...
TUTTLE
I
believe that the creature we just saw is in fact the ex-president and the only
JFK to ever hold office. The human original, who was replaced by a duplicate
when he was fifteen, was kept alive aboard an alien ship…
(Cont.)
The
human boy was raised to believe that he was chosen by the aliens. That he was
special to them. And then, when he was about the right age, he was returned to
earth and was shortly after, assassinated in Dallas. When the human JFK got
into that open top sedan, he just thought that he was taking part in some
homecoming parade with a gorgeous brunette on his arm.
BERNARD
Diabolical.
What about Nixon?
President
Nixon was also an alien whilst in office, but Nixon almost served almost two
terms instead of serving almost one. Reagan’s an alien too, but he’s from a
different planet. He’s from the same planet as Ross Perot, Brian Harradine and
Sir Joh. I think it’s Pluto, but I’d have to look it up to be sure. In fact, if
you look at Ross Perot and then at Brian Harradine you can kind of see that
they’re from the same planet.
Any two photos of the two people mentioned will bear out
the roach’s claim.
BERNARD
Tuttle,
I have to ask... How did a bunch of motley roaches make off with millions of
tonnes of gas?
TUTTLE
(Straight at camera)
It
wasn’t simple I can tell you Bernard. It actually involved the careful digging
of millions of miles of tunnels, the cooperation of trillions of insects and
other arthropods around the world.
BERNARD
Incredible...
We
found the secret home of the gas, that was hard. They were hundreds of giant...
and I mean GIANT cannisters buried in a deep hole in Texas. We then quite
simply leaked it through the main tunnels which we had carefully dug miles into
the earth’s mantle, through the crust, under the oceans... so that we could
channel the gas to all the different continents. We then leaked it through the
billions of tributaries and minor channels, up towards the surface in smaller
and smaller tunnels through the topsoil and finally into the air all over the
world...
BERNARD
Amazing.
It must have taken you a long time to plan and execute it.
TUTTLE
Not
really. You have to remember there’s trillions of insects involved, each doing
only a little bit. All of us getting the job done. We started almost two weeks
ago and finished this afternoon. Just time for dinner, a quick shower, maybe
chuck on a suit and try to look presentable for tonight’s show.
BERNARD
So you’ve given the aliens a
truth drug, what next?
It’s
our belief that the aliens will inevitably betray their presence to a terrified
human populace, a giant planetary-wide war will start... should start within
the next ten minutes really. Everybody will be destroyed – humans and aliens – in a military cocktail of
biological weapons, nuclear fire, radiation and a long, long horrendous nuclear
winter. By this time tomorrow the earth will be a deep dark freezer and us
insects will be running the joint.
BERNARD
A
pretty bleak future if you’re a mammal.
TUTTLE
I
suppose so. Hadn’t really thought about it. This one’s for Galahad...
BERNARD
(Shaken)
Well... we might be back, after these
messages:
Cut to: Movie promo.
AMERICAN ANNOUNCER
He
was a monotone man with biceps larger than Volkswagens.
ARNIE
(To FENCHURCH)
Come
with me... I will save you using only a rubber band, a fridge magnet and
seventeen different guns
She
was running from a professional killer, hired to kill her for no apparent
reason.
FENCHURCH
(To ARNIE)
I
find myself strangely attracted to you even though you look like a large
skeleton with a horrific case of mumps.
ARNIE
That’s
the steroids. Let’s go.
AMERICAN ANNOUNCER
They will stop at nothing...
Cut to: Bad guys wearing black.
BAD GUY
We
will stop at nothing! I want every cliche possible used before this promo is
over.
BAD GUY TWO
He’s
a dead man.
BAD GUY THREE
Let’s
get outta here.
Cut to: ARNIE.
AMERICAN ANNOUNCER
And
now...
We see them running for their lives. A car is in pursuit,
guns out the windows are blazing.
ARNIE
Don’t
say it!
AMERICAN ANNOUNCER
They’re
running for their lives.
(In mental agony.)
Arrgh.
ARNIE trips and falls over. He gets up again and starts
running. They turn a corner and see a running car with all the doors open.
FENCHURCH
We should steal that car.
We’re going to need a car chase soon or-
ARNIE
(Like his brain hurts)
I
can’t drive.
Cut to:
Night INT BAD GUY looking shocked and angry.
BAD GUY ONE
What
does he mean he doesn’t drive?
Cut to: EXT – night
ARNIE is looking conciliatory. Or at least as conciliatory
as ARNIE can.
ARNIE
I
never got around to it. And you can’t
drive because both your hands are in bandages.
FENCHURCH shows her hands and they look ridiculous, as
though she has two weather balloons stuck to her forearms.
Cut to: INT- night
BAD GUY ONE is furious, he’s ripping apart the room he’s
in.
How
the hell are we going to have a car chase if neither of them can drive? It’s just not fair!
BAD GUY TWO
Let’s
get outta here.
BAD GUY THREE
He’s
a dead man?
AMERICAN ANNOUNCER
Arnold
Longen-Namer is...
Credits come up: DESPERATE
& DANGEROUS & GENERALLY IN A LOT OF TROUBLE. A Cash Magnetheimer Film.
AUSTRALIAN ANNOUNCER
Now
showing at all Grated Onion Cinemas.
Cut to: ITCHY BENAUD.
ITCHY is standing by to announce the winner of the Classic
Conspiracies Competition.
ITCHY
Welcome
back to the ABC. Well things have been going along at a cracking pace here, I
can tell you. Not only is there an alien conspiracy afoot but since the world’s
about to end, since million degree temperatures are expected in all major
citites through out the globe at any moment, we thought we’d announce our
winner in the Croak-a-Cola Classic Conspiracies Competition a little early.
Tonight’s winner is E. Ballard of East Lakes in Queensland. Now rather than
just show you the winning answer, we thought we’d do something a little bit different
here today... Here’s anchormouse, Bernard SQUEEK to tell you more...
Cut to : INT – Night. The Bloggs mansion.
BERNARD
Thankyou Itchy, (To viewers.) And thank you for joining us. We’re speaking now
live on the telephone with current leader of the opposition Kim Beazley…. Mr
Beazley, is it true that you are in fact the former prime minister, Robert
James Lee Hawke in a large Kim Beazley suit?
BEAZLEY
Wish I was, he always had such nice hair. And what about
that charisma, eh? Incredible... more of a political and sexual phenomenon than
a man... But no: it’s absurd. I’ve stood in the same room as him. Shaken his
hand a thousand times. I grew up in politics beside him. Sure Bob’s the messiah
of a generation, sure he can walk on water, but he’s not able to impersonate
me! I can eat a water buffalo and still have room for an elephant. I’d like to
see Bob do that!
BERNARD
Mr.
Beazley, is by any chance Mr. Hawke in the room with you, so that he is able to
confirm your version of events?
BEAZLEY
Ahhh...
nup. Nice try though. Goodbye.
Click.
BERNARD
Well
Mr Hawke there not giving up a thing and lying his arse off.
TUTTLE
He’s
off the suspect list for sure, Bernard. Bob might be a lying conniving,
backstabbing politician, but he’s no alien.
BERNARD
I
am now attempting to reach the home of Andrew Peacock... (Into phone) Oh...
Hello? Hello, is daddy home? ... Could you please tell him it’s (Enunciates the
name crisply.) John Howard on the
phone then sweetheart. (Winks to camera.) ...Yes, the short man with the bad
suits, that’s right aren’t you a clever little girl. Oh you’re eighteen? Fifty
an hour huh? He is... Well thankyou Yuki it’s been real... Hello, Andrew?
BERNARD signals the studio to put the phone call through
the loudspeaker.
PEACOCK
Hello?
BERNARD
Mr.
Peacock, I was just wondering if you could answer a quick question.
PEACOCK
Look
I don’t have time for this...
BERNARD
Is
it true Mr. Peacock that prime minister Howard is an android and that you,
Malcolm Fraser and a jar containing the brain of Sir Robert Menzies are in fact
in control of him?
PEACOCK
That’s
the most ridiculous notion since George Negus suggested that George Lucas
designed and built Alexander Downer out of mattress stuffing. And where on
earth would Fraser get the brain of Robert Menzies? Now if you’ll excuse me...
I have a steaming takeaway Japanese dish to eat.
Before the final click we hear YUKI, a Japanese 18 year
old sex kitten squeal and say mid-giggle...
YUKI
Don’t
bite so hard Andrew-san!
BERNARD
Well
there you have it, Mr Peacock also not
an alien and he does have a
multicultural outlook after all.
TUTTLE
Who
would have suspected...
BERNARD
This
is good news for Australian politics.
(Trying to see how.) At least... I su-ppose it is.
TUTTLE looks at his watch.
TUTTLE
Yep all you mammals had better party down hard and fast
though because there must surely by now be only moments left before the news
breaks and the nuclear mayhem begins...
Cut to: Bloggs Mansion...
The Bloggs family are sitting up as the television blares
out...
There follows NEWSFLASH type music and we see a man
sitting in a chair still attaching his microphone to his ear with a look of
panic and urgency.
The name STAN TRUSTY appears beneath his image.
STAN
Good
evening ladies and gentlemen. The world tonight teeters on the brink of chaos.
Threats of war and invasion flared all over the United Nations assembly when it
convened in Geneva only a few hours ago. For the follow up to today’s
extraordinary events we cross live to Geneva to our on the scene correspondent,
Kimberley Sweet.
KIMBERLEY
Bad news here, I’m afraid Stan... it’s absolute chaos,
nobody knows what’s going on or why it’s all happening now. All we can be sure
of is that there are some very angry delegates in Geneva tonight...
Cut to: The Bloggs Lounge room.
BERNARD
Well
it all looks pretty desperate... just before nuclear war breaks out and life as
we know it ends however, we’d like to see if we can’t get former prime minister
Malcolm Fraser on the phone...
Sound of phone ringing. Click.
FRASER
Hello?
BERNARD
Mr
Fraser, Bernard Squeek from the ABC, what would you say to Andrew Peacock’s
revelation that John Howard is a robot and that you and a jar containing the
brain of Robert Menzies are in control of this android?
FRASER
Emmm,
I’d say that Mr Peacock forgot to mention his own involvement, and that he
totally overlooked his solo role in the robotic John Hewson fiasco.
BERNARD
You
are, I take it, an alien, Mr. Fraser, forced to tell the truth because of a
neurotoxin called Alibaster7.
FRASER
Yes.
You got me, I’m afraid.
BERNARD
Does
Menzies know about you being an alien?
FRASER
Menzies
wouldn’t know if I chucked a bunch of baby piranhas into his tank. You know how
old he is?
BERNARD
So
why were you, as an alien, chosen to be Prime Minister?
FRASER
Gough
Whitlam. Look I’d love to stay and divulge the facts surrounding a fifty year
old alien conspiracy to you all night, but I’ve got to go. I’m in a hotel room and
I can’t find my pants.
Click.
TUTTLE
There
you go, Bernard. Former prime minister Malcolm Fraser is an alien. When you
look at an image of his face, you can sort of see it now... Those eyes never
did seem quite human.
BERNARD
I’m
sorry to cut you off there Tuttle, but there’s something happening in the West
Indies. We cross, once again to Percival CREEK for an update.
PERCIVAL
Thankyou
Bernard, yes shattering news... I recently overheard Kennedy speaking with
Elvis in the restrooms and Kennedy mentioned a Professor who had discovered a
molecule which would break the Alibaster7 toxin and snap it into two harmless
pieces. They’ve named the molecule Barry.
TUTTLE
(Absolutely
disbelieving...) What?
PERCIVAL
That’s
correct, I’m afraid Tuttle. I believe that they are working on a means to
produce ten trillion tonnes of Barry as we speak. This volume should be enough
to flood the world with Barry, destroy the Alibaster7, allow the aliens to
recover in time and successfully suppress the knowledge of their invasion.
TUTTLE
This
is too much. They’re stopping my war! Who is
this professor?
PERCIVAL
Well
we don’t have that information as yet, although there are of course thousands
of insects surrounding them as we speak... eavesdropping for the slightest
hint.
He gestures and there for the camera are MONROE, KENNEDY
et al.
TUTTLE
Well
it’s not good enough. You guys have to get in there and start stinging them for
information. Get the bees on to it...
Cut to: INT- Night. The Bloggs mansion.
BERNARD looks thoughtful... his face washes into ripples
as we follow his stream of consciousness into a flashback.
Cut to: Bernard’s flashback.
TUTTLE
A military cocktail... a long, long
horrendous nuclear winter. By this time tomorrow the earth will be a deep dark
freezer and us insects will be running the joint.
BERNARD
A pretty bleak future if you’re a mammal.
TUTTLE
I suppose so. Hadn’t really thought about
it.
Exiting BERNARD’s flashback we...
Cut to: INT –
Night. Chez Bloggs.
TUTTLE
...this
is a critical time in the struggle. If we falter now we lose, if we fight and
fight on we’ll-.
BERNARD eats Rambo-roach TUTTLE SCUTTLE.
BERNARD
I
think this game has gone far enough... Percival are you there?
PERCIVAL
Yes,
still here Bernard. What was that sound I heard?
BERNARD
Well
I’m afraid that the Insect Liberation Front has just lost its glorious leader.
PERCIVAL
Oh
that’s a shame. It looks like we have something... I’ll just touch antennae
with Bill.
He and BILL, who is a wasp, mingle their antennae for a
second and the BILL flies off. An ant walks on to the set behind PERCIVAL and
waves at the camera.
PERCIVAL
Yes,
we can now take you to the home of the professor who has developed this
antidote.
Cut to: INT- Day.
Fake Gilligan’s Island intro...
The PROFESSOR is stomping on insects. The PROFESSOR
continues stomping on any insect he can find screaming for them to stop coming
at him as the following interview takes place. Several times he comes so close
to the camera that it looks as though SARAH’s going to get squashed. The floor
jars and she bounces into the air each time his foot comes down near her.
Back!
Back!
SARAH FLUTTER
Yes
thankyou Percival, here we are on Gilligan’s Island, with the professor. It
seems that (She has to sing it to remember the names as she counts them on her
fingers.) Gilligan, the skipper too, the millionaire... and his wife, the movie
star... (She mouths the words the professor.) and (Now talking.) Mary-Anne... have all been found dead. It’s
believed from the way that they are clutching their ears to block out sound and
the way their eyes are all rolled back in their heads that they were brutally
bored to death by a lengthy quantum physics lecture.
BERNARD
Sarah?
SARAH
Yes
Bernard?
BERNARD
How
much Barry has been made so far?
SARAH
About
three quarters of the globe is already flooded with it. It seems that the
aliens were already prepared for this
contingency and had developed a response in advance...
BERNARD
Surely
they hadn’t anticipated the sixlegs
conspiracy...
SARAH
No.
They never suspected the arthropod revolt against all the vertebrates... but
they knew that so long as there was Alibaster7, there would need to be Barry.
We never had a chance.
BERNARD
(To viewers.)
Well
this is gratifying. It looks as
though we’re all to be spared after all.
The PROFESSOR steps on SARAH. He bends down and he picks
up her body. He’s looking straight at the camera. He changes into an ALIEN.
PROFESSOR
(Into camera.)
Thought you had us you little bastards didn’t you... eh?
He changes back into the PROFESSOR. He looks smug. He is
about to destroy the camera by stepping on it. We see the SKIPPER creep in
behind him and pick up a large heavy book. He clobbers him on the head and the
PROFESSOR drops to the floor. The book is heavy, large, it’s title fills the
screen as it clumps to the ground next to the PROFESSOR. QUANTUM PHYSICS.
SKIPPER
That’s
for Gilligan.
BERNARD
Well,
it’s like the last scene of Hamlet here tonight ladies and gentlemen.
Absolutely everybody’s copping it...
Well in an incredible turn of events it seems that the slick and well financed
evil terrorist group, the Insect Liberation Front have failed in their insane
and unconscionable attempt to wipe out all vertebrates. The poor, unwitting and
sensitive Bloggs family... personal friends of mine…
Cut to: INT – Night. The Bloggs mansion.
The Bloggs family have started watching Sale of the Century. We see GLENN RIDGE
on their TV...
And
where are you from Zelda?
I’m
from the planet Googoozonk, Glenn.
...Innocently
festering just inches away from me, are surely the only true innocent victims of tonight’s fiasco. We can only go to our
beds tonight thanking god for people like the Bloggses. They are our true moral
guardians, they are pure, righteous and wonderful. This is Bernard SQUEEK,
signing off from glorious humanland.
Good night and may mother nature give all your children twenty toes and wet noses.
SQUEEEAK!
Fade out.
Roll end credits.