GK: There's a writers' strike going on in TV and movieland and to show our solidarity with our fellow writers, we'd like to show a short film now ----- those of you listening on the radio, I'm sorry you can't see this but just follow along as best you can---- and here's the movie--
TR: It says here in Variety that our movie "Killer Yoghurt" grossed forty million dollars, honey. I'm starting to think maybe we shoulda gotten paid more than eight hundred bucks and a couple dozen T-shirts for our screenplay. I wish we'd gotten an agent.
SS: If we wanted to give away ten percent of our money, John, we'd be Mormons. What we need is a union. (MARCH BEGINS QUIETLY UNDER--..)

TR: Writers? Organized? How did that happen?

TK: It happened because we writers realized we were entitled to a share of the profits.

SS: Who're you?

TK: The name is Joad. Tom Joad. And wherever writers are out on the picket line, I'm there --- with them.
THEY SING: You've got to go down and join the union Or else they'll steal your baby's shoes They'll steal the eyeballs off of a dead man You've got to go down and join the union and pay your dues.
TR: Look out! They're coming! The producers are coming!

SS: Don't give up! Stick together!

TR: Pay us for DVD sales and internet downloads, you big cheaters!

SS: We're the ones who write the scripts!!!

TR: Down! Down! They're sending in a spaceship (SPACESHIP) piloted by alien Rottweilers (WILD DOGS) and they're using lunar waves (SFX) to set off a tsunami (BIG WAVE CRASHING) that's breaking loose a giant glacier in Alaska (ICE) that is being picked up by a tornado (TORNADO), and dropped on our heads---- look out (MASS DESTRUCTION) (STING AND BRIDGE)
TK: It's quiet now but as soon as the sun comes up, they'll be back, throwing everything they got at us.

TR: This whole pen-is-mightier-than-the-sword idea ---- it doesn't seem to be working out.

SS: We've got to keep going. We can't give up--.

TR: But how can we? We're practically out of ammo.

TK: Whatever we do, we can't give up on the union.

SS: Tom's right. We've got to save the union. (FOOTSTEPS) Wait a minute----- who's this?
TR (SWEDISH): I'm Svend. I'm from the massage therapists union. We're joining you on the picket line. (ALL: Yes!!!)
SS (DORIS): Yeah, I'm the president of the Cleaning Ladies Local. We're not gonna clean any more producers' homes until the writers get a fair shake. (ALL: yes!!!!) And you wouldn't believe how messy they are.

TK: (TEEN): I'm representing the Pool Boys Union. No more swimming pools get cleaned until the producers settle. (ALL: Yes!!!)

SS: And who is this here?
TR (GERMAN): I am from the psychiatrists and analysts union. Until the writers get a deal, the couch is closed. The doctor is out. (ALL: Yes!!!)
GK: And that's how the Writers Guild won the strike. One by one, producers had nervous breakdowns (TK BREAKDOWN, SOBBING) ---- one by one, they went berserk (SS MAD LAUGHTER) ---- even though they tried to relax by playing golf (GOLF SWING, FLIGHT) and tennis (TENNIS SFX) and watching TV (TV AUDIO), the producers one by one, as their pharmaceuticals wore off, went to pieces (TR LOW MOAN). And so the producers finally caved (CHEERING), and all the writers and the pool boys and cleaning ladies and masseurs and psychiatrists joined hands in the streets and they celebrated.
ALL: We write the words, we write the screenplays We make you laugh, we make you cry. With metaphors like beautiful flowers That's our name on top where it says "Written by----- We're the Writers Guild of America --- We're on Strike. (REPEAT)