Bit: MR. B NATURAL: MAN OR WOMAN?
Episode: 319- War of the Colossal Beast
Joel: I'll give you both two minutes to state your
case and then time for a short rebuttal. Okay?
Joel: Alright. Now, standard debate rules. I
will act as arbiter. On my mark, begin Mr. Crow!
Crow: Mr. B Natural was a woman. Of this there
can be NO doubt!
Tom (intense, getting in Crow's face): Not a chance, fembot!
Joel: Hey! Hey! Hey! That's one penalty point
for Mr. Servo. Mr. Crow, begin again!
Crow: Thank you, commissioner. We are compelled
to look on the 'Mister' moniker as merely a whimsical, contrived characterization in the spirit of Peter Pan, played
convincingly by the late Mary Martin. And the late Cathy Rigby. And the late Sandy Duncan. And the late--
Joel: Get to the point, Mr. Robot!
Crow: The point, sirs, is BREASTS!
Crow: Yes! Mr. B Natural had breasts! A decidedly
unnatural thing for a man to have, wouldn't you agree, Mr. Servo? When one takes into account the short jacket,
the shiny leotard, the wide hips, unless one is wildly confused, as my colleague seems to be, one concludes naturally
that Mr. B Natural is indeed a wonderfully, spritely--albeit annoying--woman!
Joel: Thank you, Mr. T. Robot. Your response,
Tom: (as William F. Buckley) Thank you, Mr.
Utley. (Tom launches into a big-worded, long-winded speech)
Joel: Mr. Servo! I'm warning you! No William
F. Buckley impersonations under threat of a point reduction!
Tom (normal voice): Okay! Sorry! (Clears throat) Mr. B Natural, what a guy! Yes, Mr. B Natural is a decidedly modern man.
Ignoring the restrictions placed on him by modern society, Mr. B Natural dresses as he does, just as he sees fit.
If this means dressing in a shimmering leotard and a powder-blue note-spangled jacket and climbing through the
windows of young, troubled middle schoolers to play clarinet into the wee hours, waking them the next day to whisper
into their young, tender ears, I say more power to him!
Joel: Mr. Servo, you're evading the question!
Tom: If by this, sir, you mean that Mr. B Natural
is a man, I challenge you to come up with unequivocal evidence to the contrary! They named him 'Mister' and I,
for one, have faith they knew what they were doing! You might as well just ask me to prove a fish is a fish! Gentlemen!
IT JUST IS! As for these phantom 'breasts' Mr. Robot claims to have seen, I say 'Phooey-Kaflooey!' Perhaps he has
been in space TOO long! Mr. B Natural is just THAT! Here's wishing we ALL could be a little more like him. I yield
Joel: Mr. T. Robot, you have twenty minutes
Crow: Mr. Servo, you've GOT to be kidding me!
Let's assume for the moment that Mr. B Natural IS a man. My heavens! What a confusing message to send to little
kids! Already, there's the painful feeling of isolation, the horrible, scarring acne. And Mr. Servo here would
have us place a cross-dressing man with a clarinet slap dab in their bedrooms! Why not men in Little Bo Peep costumes
with stinky cigars explaining the facts of life to our unsuspecting daughters? I, for one--
Joel: Mr. Servo, your rebuttal!
Tom: Yes! Yes! Mr. Crow! I don't think we should
stop there! Let's break down ALL the barriers. Hairy men in Spartan costumes holding bake sales on shady boulevards!
Naked jock-strap wrestling! Big--
Joel (interrupting): Gentlemen, I have Commercial Sign, I'm sorry.