Bit: Wassail/Stuck with a Sitter
Episode 908- The Touch Of Satan
(Mike peeks into the camera.)
Mike: Well hi, everyone, welcome to the Satellite
Of Love. (Crow and Servo enter, wearing 19th century English winter attire; top hat, scarves, mittens, etc.)
Crow and Tom (singing): Here we come a-wassailing, etcetera, etcetera.
Crow (with cockney accent): Give us our wasssail, if you please, sir.
Mike: Uh, wassail? I'm, I'm pretty sure I'm
fresh out of wassail. (Checks his pockets for wassail)
Tom: Shee! You're no fun! Man!
Mike: Well, come on, it's July.
Crow: I know, but where's the challenge in wassailing
at Christmas? The place is lousy with wassail. Take two steps, and, BAM, you smash your toe on tons of the lousy
Mike: Wait, wait, wait a minute. What is wassail?
Tom: Oh, um, well, uh. . .
Crow: It's, you know, it's ah. . .
Tom: I don't know, I think it's an anti-inflammatory
or something. Well, the point is, if you can't provide wassail for we humble, tattered minstrels, you gotta turn
over your debit card and PIN number immediately.
Crow: Yeah, it's a custom that goes back centuries!
Mike: You made that up!
Tom: Nuh-uh! Listen to the song! (clears throat)
C&S (singing): If the person who you sing to can't provide the wassail, you are entitled to his debit card
and PIN number. Love and joy come to you, unless you can't provide the wassail.
Mike: We'll be right back.
C&S (still singing): Then severe financial penalties shall come to you. Then severe financial penalties to
(Crow is talking on phone. Servo is holding Mike's debit card.)
Crow: OK, that's the Smurf brooch with the diamels,
the porcelain cat, I think I'd like to order a few. . . (Mike enters with a piece of paper and several beer cans.)
Mike: Hold on, hold on, hold on.
Crow (turns): What?
Mike: I have wassail. I have wassail. (He puts
several cans in front of them.)
Tom: Hold on there, Nelson. Canned wassail?
Crow: No way, my friend.
Mike: Oh yeah! I checked the lyrics to your
dumb little song and it doesn't say anything about canned wassail. (He waves the lyric sheet in front of them.)
Tom: Wait, let me see that there. (reading lyrics,
mumbling) If the party of the first. . . (aloud) Damn, he's right.
Crow: Nelson, you found a loophole, you rat!
(Mike chuckles. Red light flashes.)
Mike (suddenly serious, looks at Cambot): Hold everything! ('bots gasp) The castle's calling! ('bots gasp again.
Cambot zooms in on Mike) And something's wrong!
(Bobo looks into camera, panic stricken.)
Bobo: Oh! You bet there's something wrong! The
lawgiver went on vacation and left us with, (pause) a babysitter! Look! Oh! Oh! (He looks to right. Camera pans
over to the babysitter, Steffi, and Observer, sitting at a card table. There are a number of children's blocks
on the table. Steffi and Observer are glaring at each other.)
Steffi: Why won't you play with the blocks?
Observer: I don't want to play with blocks,
it's insulting. I have an infinite intellect.
Steffi (condescending): I think you're a little crabby and you might need a time-out to think about it.
Observer (shaken): No, I can't stand time-outs! The silence! The desolation!
Steffi: 'Kay, are you going to play nice with
the blocks? (Observer scowls, then finally picks up a block.)
Observer: All right, Steffi, you win. (to himself)
This time. (Camera pulls back. Bobo appears.)
Bobo: You see? It's horrible! And she calls
me Fluffykins and treats me like an animal. (Steffi rises, and approaches Bobo with a shoe. She waves it in front
Steffi: Hey! Did you chew this?
Bobo: Um, yes. (Steffi starts hitting him with
Steffi: No! No chew! No! (pulls hunk of ape
hair out of the shoe) God! Man, there's hair everywhere.
Bobo (pleading): Please don't treat me like this! I'm a distinguished professor of anthropology from a future where
apes evolved from men. (Steffi starts hitting him with the shoe again.)
Steffi: No Chew! No! Go lie down!
Bobo: Oh, OK! Heh, heh! (Bobo goes off to lie
down. Steffi consults her clipboard, then looks at camera.)
Steffi: OK, which one of you is Mike?
Mike: Uh, that'd be me. Hi. (waves)
Steffi: OK, and which one of you is Servo, and which
one of you is (looks at clipboard) Cow?
Tom: Um, I'm Servo.
Crow: And I'm Cow.
Mike: No. You're Crow.
Crow: Yeah, I know. Well, of course I'm Crow.
I just said I'm Crow, ya great feeb!
Crow (disgusted): Boy!
Mike: Never mind. (to Cambot) He's Crow.
Steffi: Well now, (reads clipboard) it says here
I'm supposed to send you a movie, right? (Observer approaches, holding three blocks.)
Observer: Um, excuse me, Steffi.
Steffi: Yes, Brian?
Observer: No, it's Brain, I mean Brain Guy,
I mean Observer, oh, never mind! (holds up blocks) I'm finished, and I'm going to my room to commune with the gossamernothics
of the plangent dimension.
Steffi (looks at watch):Well, it's four. It says you take your fruit snack at four. (holds fruit snack in front
Observer (insulted): I don't need to "take" my fruit snack! (reconsiders) But I will, (takes package)
because I want to. (Steffi points a finger sharply at him, isn't he forgetting something?) Thank you. (Observer
exits. Steffi returns her attention to SOL.)
Steffi: OK, guys, your movie is called, (looks
at clipboard) "The Touch Of Satan"? Yuck! (Bobo returns) And you, you need another tick bath! (Bobo whimpers
pitifully, scratching himself.)
Mike: Enjoy the great taste of wassail, (opens can)
Crow: Hey, that's ours!
Tom: C'mon, you big lush! (Movie sign.)