(GK: Garrison Keillor; FN: Fred Newman; SS: Sue Scott: TR: Tim Russell)
.....brought to you by Beebopareebop Rhubarb Pie.
GK: It's been a hard day --- you went to the dentist in the morning (DRILL) and he was filling a tooth and it broke (DRILL, CRUNCH, TR GASP OF PAIN) and he gave you so much novocaine your mouth got all flubbery (TR: Goodbye, Dr. Kramarszuk) and you went to the office (TR: Good morning, Miss Phelps.) (SS: Are you drunk, sir?) And went to a meeting (JOWLY VOICES) that went on for three hours and you had to put on a neck brace to keep your head up (TR DAZED, DROWSY) and finally you went to the men's room to throw cold water on your face and you looked in the mirror and (TR HORROR) there was a coffee bean in your left nostril (TR: Oh my gosh. How long has that been there???). You ground some coffee beans for breakfast. (TR: It's been stuck in there ALL DAY????????) Now you remember how the receptionist looked at you and smirked. (SS: Morning, Mr. Keene. Enjoy your breakfast?) And your client gave you that funny look and said, (FN: Frankly, I don't think you know beans about this.) All day people have been rather negative. (FN: Ever hear of Kleenex, buddy?) All because of your nasal situation. So you blow the bean out (TR SNORT) and you go back to the meeting (FOOTSTEPS) and the big boss looks up and says (FN: Go make ten copies of this.) and hands you a report. (TR: But I'm Frobisher, sir. I'm a vice-president.) (FN: And make sure they're collated and stapled.) So you go to your office and (SHAKE LOCKED DOOR) it's locked and the nameplate is gone. And there's a note. (TR: "You've been transferred to cubicle 5835"? What???) And you go to cubicle 5835 and ----- (ANGRY SHOUTS) there's some sort of uprising going on ---- the interns are in revolt (CRIES OF ALARM ABOUT INTERNS) and you go into the copy room (DOOR SHUT) and with all the interns gone there's nobody to show you how to work the copier and you stick the report in (KA CHUNK) and press the number 10 and Start (BEEPS) and the thing starts up (OMINOUS DEEP TONE) and it starts copying (COPIER) but it doesn't stop (TR ANXIETY), and pretty soon it's going like crazy (COPIER ACCEL) and the air is full of paper and you smell smoke (TR PANIC)....
....and you're pressing the Cancel button and the Off button (COPIER ACCEL) and the copier keeps going faster and faster until (COPIER GRINDING, CRUNCHING) it starts eating itself up and spitting out red-hot parts and you grab the fire extinguisher and (HIGH PRESSURE SPRAY) it comes to a stop (COPIER GRINDING TO HALT) and the fire alarm goes off (KLAXON) and it feels like a good time to leave (DOOR SLAM, RUNNING FEET) and you go to a bar and the waitress comes over and she has a name tag on her chest and you say (TR: Hey, what's the name of the other one?) and she glares at you (SS SLOW BURN) and you say, (TR: I'm joking!!! Joking!!) and she thinks you're choking and she applies the Heimlich maneuver (SS EFFORT, TR CRY, BONES CRUNCH) and breaks four ribs and you're taken in terrible pain (TR PAIN) to the emergency room where you learn something about your health insurance (FN NAZI: This requires thirty-day advance notification of emergencies! We'll see you in June!!! And you owe us two hundred and thirty-eight dollars for this consultation!!! (STAMP, STAMP, STAMP) Jahwohl!!!) And in pain you head home (FOOTSTEPS, TR GROANING) and you go in the bathroom (FOOTSTEPS) and take your clothes off and get in the shower (SHOWER) and that feels better (SHOWER, TR TENOR) and you get out (SHOWER STOP) and reach for a towel and ---- wait a minute. (TR SURPRISE) Your initials aren't J.L.B. (TR: This isn't my house.) (FN: Hands in the air, clown. CLICK OF GUN HAMMER) and he's holding a shotgun and minutes later (SIREN) you're on your way to the courthouse where (SHOUTS OF PHOTOGRAPHERS, REPORTERS) a crowd of reporters watches you being hauled naked from the squad car and into the pokey where they throw you in the drunk tank (FN DRUNK: Are you naked or are your clothes really baggy?) and it's midnight when you finally get home (DOOR OPEN, CLOSE, TV AUDIO) and there's your wife sitting on the sofa in her Snoopy sleepshirt watching your arrest on the evening news. (SS: Fred? We need to talk.) (TR: Oh no.) (THEME) Wouldn't this be a good time for a piece of rhubarb pie? Yes, nothing takes the taste of shame and humiliation out of your mouth quite like Bebopareebop Rhubarb Pie.
One little thing can revive a guy,
And that is home-made rhubarb pie.
Serve it up, nice and hot.
Maybe things aren't as bad as you thought.
ALL:
Mama's little baby loves rhubarb, rhubarb,
Beebopareebop Rhubarb Pie.
Mama's little baby loves rhubarb, rhubarb,
Beebopareebop Rhubarb Pie.
© Garrison Keillor 2002