Nick Danger’s Snakehead Symphony

Sometimes, he doesn't smoke ???



DWIGHT: The Adventures of Nick Danger, Third Eye. Brought to you by PlusCom dot Com, the Global Interlacing network providing 24-7-360 global crisis news, keeping your unmoving butt glued to the edge of your ever-widening seat.

NICK: (Reverb) This is Nick Danger. It was the long summer of the rest of our lives. It was the time after time stopped. It was a new world and although it looked a whole lot like the old world, it was different somehow. My phone rang ?


NICK: See? Different. Like I said. I picked it up???


NICK: At least that worked.


BRADSHAW: (phone effect) Mr. Danger?

NICK: ( No REVERB) The last time someone called me Mister was before???well, you know.

BRADSHAW: You mean before the thing I know that you know too?

NICK: The thing we don’t talk about.

BRADSHAW: Yeah. Well, should I call you Mister or not?

NICK: Not doesn’t seem right. But on the other hand, please don’t call me Mister. I hate Broadway musicals.

BRADSHAW: I thought you hated crickets and owls.

NICK: They remind me of the times before the times ??? that ???

BRADSHAW: That we don’t want to remember?

NICK: That we can’t forget.

BRADSHAW: Yeah. Yeah. Where were we?


NICK: (ON REVERB) Hey. That was a good question. This guy was pretty sharp. Where were we? That was an idea, we’d call this episode ??? Dwight? You still there?

DWIGHT: Still here, boss. I’m actually on the phone, did you notice?

NICK: I thought that other guy was on the phone.

DWIGHT: You could have two phone lines. It’s radio, anything is possible.

NICK: Especially these days.

DWIGHT: You mean the days after???

NICK: Yeah ?

DWIGHT: Yeah. What did you want?

NICK: I’m thinkin’our title would be: “The Adventure of Where Were We?” Pretty good, huh?

DWIGHT: (after a pause) Gee, maybe we shouldn’t have fired those writers ???

NICK: They left of their own accord. Buddhists are nuts. They said they were heading for life as ants or grubs or something and we’d see them around. I think “The Incident” convinced them.

DWIGHT: I think you not paying them convinced them.

NICK: Grubs and ants don’t need pay. They do whatever they do for love.

DWIGHT: Whatever that is.

NICK: Love? I know what love is.

DWIGHT: No, I meant whatever they do. Come up with better titles, that sort of thing.

BRADSHAW: Hello? “Where Were We” sounds a lot like “The Way We Were.” Is Barbra Streisand here? On the phone?

NANCY: (Phone effect) Hello, Nicky? Is that you?

NICK: Nancy! (I hadn’t heard her voice in years ?)


NANCY: Oh, Nick, I’m in big trouble.

NICK: No, you’re not, Nancy. You’re just calling up to pretend you’re in big trouble. What happened, bowling league cancelled?


NANCY: This is no pretense, Nick. This is trouble, just the way you like it. You know, arson, murder, blackmail, babes in trouble ???

NICK: Sounds kind of old-fashioned, Nancy. No immolations? No detensions? No holocausts? No surgical strikes? No collateral damage?

NANCY: Sorry, Nickynickynick. It’s just me and I’m in trouble. You’ve got to get over here right away!

NICK: (pause) I, uh ??? I need gas.

BRADSHAW: (darkly) There is no gas. In general.

DWIGHT: Nick? Get to some kind of cue and I’ll throw in the title.

NICK: Ok, Dwight. Uh, hold on Nancy. Uh, Ok, baby, I’ll be there right away.

BRADSHAW: Bo-ring.

DWIGHT: Welcome to Nick Danger, Third Eye! Tonight’s creepy episode: “The Way We Were!”
NICK: No! “Where Were We?”
BRADSHAW: Babs? Babs?



VOICE ONE: I’m so global I want to wear a death’s head and nail spikes in trees.

VOICE TWO: I want to spread disease by phone ??? all over the world!

VOICE THREE: I want to own your water rights ??? and sell them to myself!

VOICE FOUR: I want to make you feel bad about everything horrible that’s happening every minute!

AUSTIN: Pluscom dot com is cinching you tighter to people whose names you can’t even pronounce.

VOICE: Globalization, that’s the name of the game.

DWIGHT: Pluscom dot Com is a Global Interlacing Scheme designed to build bigger homes for executives, bigger jail cells for accountants and bigger divorce settlements for executive’s wives. And now, back to Nick Danger, or, as we like to call him, “Babs!”


NICK: It was a Thursday, I think, and Thursday is a humorless day. Around here, we call it Ashcroft Day, and we call it that without much of a sense of humor. I couldn’t stand listening to any auto sound effects, so I just walked around the block and found Nancy’s stingy apartment. It was a humorless building in a rundown section they call Irony Town. And they call it that without ??? uh, ???


NICK: Uh, yeah. Irony. Thanks, Al.

BRADSHAW: You’re welcome. Don’t mind me. I’ll just stay on the phone. I’ve got unlimited minutes and no roaming.

NICK: Nancy lived above a greasy restaurant that looked like a drawing of a restaurant called “The Krusty Krab.” I climbed the drawing of the stairs ???


NICK: I walked the walk ??? I talked the talk. I did the hoochy coochy and then I let it rock. I swiggled to the right, I skwaggled to the left, I yah, yah, yah, yah, yah-yahed till the hmmm hmmm hmmm hmmm-hmm. I was feelin’ good. What was that smell? Mmmm. Crabbie Patties! Yum.


NANCY: (Behind the door) (frightened) Who’s ??? there?

NICK: Nancy, is that you? Open the door.

NANCY: I ??? can’t, Nick. I’ve lost the will.

NICK: That will was worthleth, Nanthy. The Old Man left you nothing.

NANCY: He left me this door! But he left it closed. If I open it, I’ll have nothing left of him ???

NICK: I see. What if you just stopped making your voice sound as if you were behind a door?

NANCY: Can you do that?

DWIGHT: It’s Radio, darling. You can do anything you like.

BRADSHAW: Hey, am I in this scene yet?

NANCY: (in the clear) Hi, Nicky. Long time no see.

NICK: Are we ??? speaking Chinese?

NANCY: What?

NICK: China, Nance. The next big market. The next big thing. There are ducks in China who wear uniforms of flight attendants and have plastic explosives shaped like little wings pinned to their lapels. There are geese with bombs. What happened to a world where we received news two weeks late and left our doors open? What happened to party lines and wig socials? What the hell happened?

BRADSHAW: Criminals, Nick, that’s what happened. Certain Global Bigwigs got a lot of money together.

NICK: They bred money?

BRADSHAW: No, they got it by selling shares in Wig Socials and not paying dividends on party lines.

NICK: You mean ??? they made money by betting on globalization? I see, when the world was flat and you could leave your doors unlocked, people lived with what was directly around them.

NANCY: Am I still in this scene?

DWIGHT: Why not?


NANCY: Oh, Nick. I’ll leave my door unlocked for you.

NICK: Then we’d have to go back and start the scene over, Nancy. It’s Radio, there’s never as much time as you think there is.

BRADSHAW: (counting) Four minutes, twenty-two seconds and counting. I suggest we move to my scene.

NICK: Well, that’s a problem, Al. It’s easy enough for me to say ??? “I drove down to police headquarters to see Lt. Alvin Bradshaw ???”
BRADSHAW: Now we’re talkin! That sounds great!

DWIGHT: Well, then comes the hard part, Al. Without writers, you see ???

BRADSHAW: What? What?

NANCY: I see what you mean. Just hearing people repeat “What? What?” will get pretty old after awhile.

BRADSHAW: Like you, little lady.

NICK: That’s pathetic. Maybe you’re right, Dwight. Maybe we need some real writers. What happened to Noir, what happened to Irony?

NANCY: Ironing? What happened to ironing? No one irons anymore, it’s all drip-dry.

DWIGHT: This is going nowhere.

NICK: “I headed for Nowhere ???”

NICK: See, this isn’t so hard.

DWIGHT: I don’t know, “I headed for Nowhere” sounds like Buddhists writing.

BRADSHAW: Hey, I’m still in my office, but Blootwurst just walked in and he’s wearing a saffron robe and holding a begging bowl.

BLOOTWURST: (OFF MIC) I’m begging for some writers. We’re in deep trouble, Chief.

NANCY: Nick, you’ve got to do something. I imagined there was no door, but now I’m imagining worse. I’m imagining an elephant-headed dude with sixty arms waving bloody knives! I’m scared!

DWIGHT: These aren’t just Buddhist writers, Nick. I sense a certain ???

NICK: Globalization? Yeah, I see what you mean.

BRADSHAW: Hey, six fifteen. Time for the old prayer rug. Which way is Mecca from FunFun town?


DWIGHT: Oh, heavenly Father of Broadcasting, bless this program, give me more lines and an increased paycheck ???

NANCY: Oh great Hollywood God, give me parts I can no longer play, help me avoid doing voiceovers for Pluscom dot com on PBS ???

BRADSHAW: Oh Great Snakehead, direct global dollars into my pockets, grace my investments in Brazil ???


NICK: (REVERB) Omigosh. Nothing on Radio is ever simple. It was time to say Goodbye. Hey, shut up everybody!



DWIGHT: Oh, yeah. End of the show.

BLOOTWURST: Thank the Dear Lord.

NICK: I thought we’d borrow a trick from Young Guy, Motor Detective and end the show with a letter from the Letter Bag.

BLOOT: I’ll open it up ???


BRADSHAW: Hey, there’s a bunch of sound effects in here ???

DWIGHT: Here’s a letter, Nick. The only letter we got ???

NICK: Well, this letter’s from the Austin Family in Hollywood California. “Dear Nick, ever since 9/11 we have become upset with reality and especially reality shows. We have solved this problem by just watching SpongeBob on TV. If we something with letters and words or numbers crawling at the bottom of the screen, we just turn to Spongebob. He lives in a pineapple, under the sea, absorbent and yellow and porous is he ???

BRADSHAW: (UNDER NICK)) In trading today, the Chinese Goose egg
Index fell precipitously to 129. 89 (ETC)

DWIGHT: (UNDER NICK) CNN reports Nick Danger episode to come to end, detainees at Guantanamo switch radio to listen to Young Guy Motor Detective .. (etc)

NANCY: This program brought to you by Pluscom dot com, and hoping I’ll meet Mr. Pluscom soon and that he’ll like an older woman with some experience???

NICK: Well, thanks Mom and Pop Austin. Sounds good to me. And tune in again next month. Surely we’ll find some writers by then. This is Nick Danger sayin ??? so long, little Rookies and ???. What the hell is this third eye actually good for, anyway?


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