WILLOUGHBY AND THE PROFESSOR, EPISODE 14:
"I DO NOT LIKE THE BLACKNESS OF HER NOSE" OR "THE PENGUINS LAUGH AT YOU"

© 1994, ROBERT CIRASA AND JOSEPH BEVILACQUA

 

OPEN ON FIRST VERSE OF MOSQUITO MOTHER'S SONG IN ITS ORIGINAL PRIMITIVE LANGUAGE, FADING THEN INTO THE ENGLISH VERSION BELOW.

MOSQUITO MOTHER OF THE LAND:

MOSQUITO MOTHER OF THE SKY

WHO FREES ARGANARA IN CHOP-CHOP ICE

AND MAKES TO FIND GOOD MATING PREY

IN HUNT AND CHASE AND TRAPPING WAYS

GIVE MY ARM ITS PIERCING STRENGTH

GIVE MY SPIT ITS ITCHING PAIN

 

MOSQUITO MOTHER OF US ALL

HEAR HARD THIS TIME MY PRAYING CALL

DROP NOT DOWN YOUR IRON BOX

SEND ME NOT YOUR LAUGHING MEN WITH BONES

SHOW WOMAN STRENGTH IN ME

LEAVE MEN TO SLEEP

 

MOSQUITO MOTHER OF LIFE AND FOOD

LEAVE ME HAVE MY BLOOD AND BROOD

PUSH SUCKING SPEAR THROUGH THICK-THICK SKIN

LET ME TAKE WHAT "SPECI" MEN CAN GIVE

STAY UP IN SKY

MAKE MEN MORE TIRED

PUSH SLEEP IN EYES

MAKE TURN ON SIDES

MAKE CRAWL CLOSE TO WARM FIRE

GIVE HEAD PEACE TO FEEL INSIDE

DREAM FEAST OF LIFE

MAKE THIS BED-BED SONG AND DANCE TO HIDE

THIS BREED-BLEED STRIKE

AT THESE FINAL LINES, THE PROFESSOR BEGINS TO AWAKEN, FINALLY JOLTING HIMSELF FULLY ALER AND CRYING OUT IN ALARM AND WARNING TO WILLOUGHBY JUST AS MOSQUITO MOTHER OF THE EARTH STRIKES AT HIS SLEEPING FORM.

PROFESSOR: HMMM.... HMMMMMMM???!!!!! OH, MY! WILLOUGHBY! ROLL OVER!!

WILLOUGHBY GIVES A HUGE SNORT AS IF TURNING IN BED, FOLLOWED IMMEDIATELY BY THE GRUNT OF THE MOSQUITO MOTHER'S POWERFUL STAB INTO THE EARTH WHERE WILLOUGHBY FORMERLY LAY. SUDDENLY THE SOUNDS OF A HELICOPTER DESCEND UPON THE SCENE, AND THE SQUEALS OF PULLEY UNREELING FROM THE HOVERING CRAFT CAN BE HEARD LEADING TO THE JOLTING IMPACT OF STEEL CAGE UPON THE GROUND, FOLLOWED BY THE ANGRY GRUNTS AND GORILLA-LIKE PROTESTS OF THE NOW ENTRAPPED MOSQUITO MOTHER OF THE LAND RATTLING HER SUDDEN PRISON. (THE RATTLING AND GRUNTING CONTINUES AT APPROPRIATE POINTS THROUGHOUT THE REMAINING DIALOGUE.) THE HELICOPTER THEN LANDS AND DECREASES IN INTENSITY AND RETREATS INTO THE BACKGROUND A BIT AS TRAPPER CARL, D. SC., APPROACHES WITH THE TAPPING SOUND OF A PIRATE'S PEG LEG UPON THE WOODEN DECK OF HIS GALLEON.

TRAPPER CARL: TRAPPER CARL, D. SC. STILL INTACT, I HOPE.

WILLOUGHBY SNORTS UP SHORT AT THIS YET NEW DISTURBANCE, THROUGHOUT WHICH HE HAS OBVIOUSLY SLEPT, AND MOSQUITO MOTHER OF THE LAND GROWLS IN ANGRY FRUSTRATION AT THE EVIDENCE OF HIS OBLIVIOUS DELIVERANCE.

PROFESSOR: (MILDLY PERPLEXED AT THE ENTIRE EPISODE) ER... YOU MUST FORGIVE MY YOUNG ASSISTANT--(PERPLEXED AND APOLOGETIC)--HE NEVER SLEEPS. (BEAT, THEN UP) YOU SAY YOU ARE A SCIENTIST. I TOO AM A MEMBER OF THE SCIENTIFIC COMMUNITY.

TRAPPER CARL: (WITH A BIG GRIN) I'M SURE YOU ARE.

PROFESSOR: WE MUST TRANSPORT THIS SPECIMEN OF PRIMITIVE WOMANHOOD TO APPROPRIATE FACILITIES WITH A CONTROLLED ENVIRONMENT IMMEDIATELY. I FEAR THE TRAUMA OF HER ENCOUNTER WITH US MAY HAVE ALREADY COMPROMISED HER VIABILITY WITH UNACCUSTOMED LEVELS OF STRESS.

SOUND OF MOSQUITO MOTHER RATTLING CAGE IN ANGER.

TRAPPER CARL: OH I'M SURE SHE'S BEEN THROUGH WORSE THAN THIS MANY TIMES BEFORE, IN A LIFE LIKE HERS.

PROFESSOR: (A BIT DISCONCERTED AT TRAPPER CARL'S TONE) ER... I AM ALSO CONCERNED ABOUT THE CRYOGENIC DISPOSITION OF HER CORPUS. I DO NOT LIKE THE BLACKNESS OF HER NOSE. NOR DO I LIKE THE LOOKS OF THAT FINGER.

(SOUND OF MOSQUITO MOTHER GROWLING AND RATTLING CAGE AS SHE POINTS HER INDEX FINGER ANGRILY AT TRAPPER CARL AND THE PROFESSOR.)

TRAPPER CARL: AYE, SHE'S A WICKED WAY WITH THAT, SHE HAS.

CHIPPY: WICKED DIGITS, WICKED DIGITS. SQUAWK!

PROFESSOR: A PARROT! DO YOU HAVE PARROT WITH YOU?

PROFESSOR: NO. (BEAT) THAT'S MY "CHIPPY."

PROFESSOR: YOUR "CHIPPY"? DO YOU MEAN YOU HAVE TAUGHT A SPARROW TO SPEAK?

TRAPPER CARL: IT SPEAKS IN SPARROW, YES. IT HAS INFINITE VOICES. YOU CAN'T COUNT THE SOUNDS IT CAN MAKE.

CHIPPY: SQUAWK! WHISTLE. VOLTAGE. CHEAP-CHEAP. BEEP.

PROFESSOR: NOR CAN I PRECISELY LOCATE THEM. THEY APPEAR TO BE ORIGINATING SOMEWHERE NEAR YOUR LEFT EAR.

TRAPPER CARL: IT'S IN MY EPAULET.

PROFESSOR: IN YOUR EPAULET? WITH YOUR GLOVES?

TRAPPER CARL: NO--IN THE EPAULET; NOT UNDER IT. BUT SOMETIMES IT GETS LOOSE AND BLOWS AROUND IN THE WIND CAUSING MISCHIEF.

CHIPPY: TWO SHORT BURSTS OF HELICOPTER CHOP. (IN PARROT) GOTTA GO, GOTTA GO! (IN BASSO) GOTTA GO, GOTTA GO.

PROFESSOR: DO YOU MEAN YOU HAVE A MICROPROCESSOR SEWN IN YOUR CLOTHING RATHER THAN A LIVING CREATURE?

TRAPPER CARL: (FONDLY) IT'S MY CHIPPY.

PROFESSOR: A SORT OF PET, THEN?

CHIPPY: (AS A SCOLDING WOMAN) YOU LAZY BOY! GET UP! EVERYBODY'S WAITING FOR YOU!

SOUND OF MOSQUITO MOTHER RATTLING CAGE IN SYMPATHETIC ANGER.

WILLOUGHBY: (GROGGY) UMMM... SNORT, SNORT... WHA? AW, MA... LEMME SLEEP, WILL YA?

PROFESSOR: WILLOUGHBY, THAT IS NOT YOUR MOTHER. IT IS A SOUND EFFECT.

TRAPPER CARL: IT'S MY CHIPPY!

PROFESSOR: ER, YES... IT IS DR. CARL'S "CHIPPY."

TRAPPER CARL: TRAPPER CARL, PLEASE.

WILLOUGHBY: WHA...? (AWAKENING) HEY, A HELICOPTER! WE'RE RESCUED!

TRAPPER CARL: YES, YOU ARE. DO YOU LIKE TO FLY, LAD?

WILLOUGHBY: YOU BET! HEY, DO YOU GIVE WINGS?

TRAPPER CARL: SURE.

SOUND OF BIRD WINGS FLAPPING (CHIPPY).

TRAPPER CARL: HOW'S THAT FOR WINGS, EH?

WILLOUGHBY: HEY, HOW'D YOU MAKE THAT SOUND WITHOUT MOVIN' YOUR ARMS? I KNOW: YOU KIND OF FLUBBER YOUR CHEEKS--LIKE THIS, RIGHT?

SOUND OF WILLOUGHBY FLUBBING HIS CHEEKS IN A POOR IMITATION OF THE FLAPPING WING EFFECT.

PROFESSOR: WILLOUGHBY, PLEASE. THESE SOUND EFFECTS, IMPRESSIVE AS THEY ARE, ARE A DISTRACTION FROM THE URGENT BUSINESS OF OUR SPECIMEN'S EVACUATION. DR. CARL...

TRAPPER CARL: TRAPPER CARL.

PROFESSOR: ER... TRAPPER CARL... PLEASE INSTRUCT WILLOUGHBY IN THE PROPER HANDLING AND SECURING OF CARGO FOR YOUR CRAFT SO THAT WE MAY REMOVE HER TO SUITABLE FACILITIES BEFORE SHE BEGINS TO LOSE SOME OF HER EXTREMITIES! HER NOSE BLACKENS WORSE EVEN AS WE SPEAK.

SOUND OF MOSQUITO MOTHER GROWLING AND RATTLING HER CAGE.

WILLOUGHBY: HEY PROFESSOR! HOW'D THAT AMAZON GET ARRESTED?

PROFESSOR: SHE HAS NOT BEEN "ARRESTED," WILLOUGHBY! SHE'S BEEN TRAPPED BY DOCTOR.... ER, TRAPPER CARL HERE. NOW PLEASE BRING THE ASSEMBLY ONTO OUR CRAFT.

TRAPPER CARL: OH, NO NEED TO EXERCISE THE BOY. I'LL WINCH HER UP AFTER WE TAKE OFF, AND WE'LL HAVE HER--AND YOU--IN FRONT OF A MAJOR CONFERENCE WITHIN AN HOUR. THAT'LL GIVE YOU JUST ENOUGH TIME TO WRITE YOUR PAPER AND CONFIRM YOUR MEASUREMENTS.

PROFESSOR: CONFRRENCE? DO YOU MEAN A PROFESSIONAL SYMPOSIUM? HERE IN THE ANTARCTIC?

TRAPPER CARL: SURE--WHAT ELSE IS THERE TO DO HERE IN THE LONG DAYS EXCEPT TO SHARE KNOWLEDGE?

CHIPPY: COPTER CHOP, COPTER CHOP. STEAM BOAT HORN. TROLLEY DING-DING. BATTLE STATIONS WOOP. CONDUCTOR'S "ALL ABOARD!" RACING CAR DOPPLER. JET DOPPLER. MOSQUITO BUZZ. MOSQUITO MOTHER GROWLING AND RATTLING THE BARS. COPTER STOP AND CHOP, REMAINING ON.

WILLOUGHBY: DUCK, PROFESSOR! THIS ONE'S FOR REAL. THOSE COPTER BLADES WILL TAKE YOUR HEAD OFF!

TRAPPER CARL: OH DON'T BE ALARMED, LAD. IT'S JUST AN ILLUSION. WALK ABOARD NOW, WON'T YOU? I'LL LET YOU HOLD THE YOKE.

WILLOUGHBY: OH BOY! COME ON, PROFESSOR--I'M GONNA FLY!

PROFESSOR: DOCTOR... ER, TRAPPER CARL: MAY I STRESS TO YOU THE IMPORTANCE OF A SUCCESSFUL FLIGHT TO OUR PROJECT?

TRAPPER CARL: NO NEED TO WORRY, PROFESSOR. I'VE DONE THIS A THOUSAND TIMES. JUST HOP ABOARD AND ENJOY THE FLIGHT NOW. THERE YA' GO.

CHIPPY: (AFTER AIRLINE DONG, THEN IN A SENSUOUS WOMAN'S VOICE) FASTEN YOUR SEATBELT, PLEASE. SQUAWK! BURSTS OF COPTER CHOP ON TOP OF CONSTANT CHOP OF REAL COPTER.

PROFESSOR: (UNDER THE INTERIOR AMBIENCE OF THE HELICOPTER) WILLOUGHBY, PLEASE DO NOT PLAY WITH THOSE CONTROLS! THE HELICOPTER IS A HIGHLY UNSTABLE AIRCRAFT!

TRAPPER CARL: OH PAY NO MIND TO THAT, LAD. IT'S NOT SO DIFFICULT TO PILOT THESE THINGS. JUST GRAB THAT THERE IN FRONT OF YA AND PULL! YOU KNOW HOW TO DO THAT, DON'T YA, LAD?

WILLOUGHBY: WELL SURE I DO!

SOUND OF COPTER ACCELERATING WILDLY AND FITFULLY AS IT TAKES OFF, MIXED IN WITH CHIPPY'S CHOPTER CHOPS.

PROFESSOR: OH MY!

SOUNDS OF HELICOPTER CHOPS CONTINUE. CUT TO SOUNDS OF CANNED LAUGH TRACK, REPLETE WITH THOSE SIGNATURE LINGERING COUGHS AS THE LAUGHTER SUBSIDES AND AN ANGRY COMIC/SCIENTIST (A LA LENNY BRUCE WITH A PH. D.) RESUMES HIS DEFIANT TIRADE OF ABUSE.

ANGRY COMIC/SCIENTIST: YEAH, YOU BETTER LAUGH. CAUSE YOU AND MY FOUR-EYED BONE SNIFFIN' RIVALS OVER HERE ARE THE BIGGEST JOKE IN AND OUT OF THIS QUONSET HUT. THE PENGUINS LAUGH AT YOU, MAN!

SOUND OF SPORADIC, PERHAPS NERVOUS CHUCKLES.

ANGRY COMIC/SCIENTIST: YOU'RE SITTIN' THERE ALL PUFFED UP IN YOUR PARKAS WITH YOUR HANDS IN YOUR POCKETS, WONDERIN' WHETHER THAT WAD YA FEEL BELONGS TO YOU OR TO THE SOCIETY FOR VETERBRATE PALEONTOLOGY!

UPROARIOUS LAUGHTER AT THIS, WITH A COMMENDATION FROM THE PRESIDING OFFICER, WHO SPEAKS HIS REFRAIN WITH A DISTINCTLY INANE RHYTHM SOMEWHAT REMINISCENT OF MEL BROOKS IN CHARACTER.

MODERATOR: OH THAT'S A GOOD ONE, THAT'S A GOOD ONE.

SOUND OF TITTERING IN THE AUDIENCE.

ANGRY COMIC/SCIENTIST: HEY, SHUT UP. ALL RIGHT? I'M TALKIN'. (BEAT AS SILENCE TAKES HOLD; THEN DISPARAGINGLY) NOW LISTEN CLOSELY, YOU "MEMBERS."

SLIGHT TITTERS FROM THE AUDIENCE AS THE ANGRY C/S CONTINUES.

ANGRY COMIC/SCIENTIST: YOU KNOW WHAT THESE PROTOCOLS ARE ABOUT? WHAT THEY'RE REALLY ABOUT? EH? THERE NOT ABOUT FOSSILS, ABOUT BONES. THEY'RE ABOUT [BLEEP], WHICH YOU AND MY ESTEEMED RIVAL OVER HERE AIN'T GOT.

SLIGHT GIGGLING, SOMEWHAT NERVOUS.

ANGRY COMIC/SCIENTIST: YEAH, YOU GOT BILLS, NOT [BLEEP]. BILLS FOR THIS HERE BONEHEAD'S "VACATION" OUT ON THE TUNDRA. SIX MONTHS OF THE MOST EXPENSIVE PALEONTOLOGICAL EXPEDITION EVER MOUNTED, AND THE ONLY BONE HE COMES BACK WITH IS THE ONE HE WENT WITH.

SOUND OF GREAT LAUGHTER ALONG WITH ANOTHER OF THE MODERATOR'S COMMENDATIONS

MODERATOR: OH THAT'S ANOTHER GOOD ONE.

LAUGHTER SUBSIDES.

ANGRY COMIC/SCIENTIST: YUP--BILLS, NOT [BLEEP]. THERE BUT FOR THE "A" GOES THE "I", HEH? BILLS FOR THE BONEHEAD IN THE PARKA. AND IN THE OTHER HAND? THERE'S ME. I WAKE UP TWO HOURS BEFORE MIDNIGHT, PUT ON MY WINDBREAKER, WALK OUTSIDE, DIRECT MY "ATTENTION" DOWN AT THE GROUND IN FRONT OF ME (IF YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN), AND DISCOVER AT MY FEET THE ONLY DINOSAUR EVER FOUND ON THE ANTARCTIC MAINLAND--A THEROPOD THAT LOOKS LIKE T. REX WITH A POMPADOUR--A COMBED BONY CREST RUNNIN' RIGHT ACROSS HIS HEAD FROM ONE EAR TO THE OTHER. AND WHO DO I HAVE TO THANK FOR UNCOVERIN' TYRANNOSAURUS ELVIS? MY [BLEEP], THAT'S WHO. SO I GONNA THANK THE SOCIETY FOR LETTIN' ME SLEEP ALL DAY THESE PAST SIX MONTHS. AND I WISH MY "WELL ENDOWED" COLLEAGUE HERE BETTER LUCK NEXT TIME HE STARTS SEARCHIN' AROUND FOR HIS OWN BONE.

AUDIENCE ERUPTS INTO ENTHUSIASTIC APPLAUSE AND WHISTLES, AGAIN ACCOMPANIED BY THE COMMENDATIONS OF THE MODERATOR.

MODERATOR: OH BOY, THAT WAS A REALLY GOOD ONE! GEEZE, WHAT A GOOD ONE THAT WAS! OH BOY, IS HE FUNNY OR WHAT?! WHAT A GOOD ONE! (REGAINING DEMEANOR AS LAUGHTER SUBSIDES) WELL, OKAY. ARE THERE ANY QUESTIONS? ANY WISECRACKS? (BEAT) HOW ABOUT YOU, DOCTOR. ARE YOU GOING LET HIM ABUSE YOU LIKE THAT? GOT ANY GOOD COMEBACKS?

RIVAL SCIENTIST: YES, MR. PRESIDENT. I HAVE A QUESTION REGARDING THE SIZE OF OUR COLLEAGUE'S PURPORTED SPECIMEN, WHICH, I WOULD POINT OUT, NONE OF THE MEMBERS HAVE YET BEEN PRIVILEGED TO ACTUALLY SEE.

ANGRY COMIC/SCIENTIST: TRUST ME--IT'S ABOUT EIGHT METERS--UPRIGHT.

AUDIENCE BREAKS INTO LAUGHTER AND SUSTAINED APPLAUSE.

MODERATOR: OH-HO-HO-HO, OH-HO-HO-HO. OH BOY, THAT'S A GREAT ONE, A GREAT ONE. WHEW, MAN, WHAT A GOOD ONE THAT WAS. WHEW, BOY. (GATHERS DEMEANOR AGAIN AS LAUGHTER SUBSIDES) WELL WHAT DO YOU THINK, FELLOW MEMBERS?

MEMBER #1: MR. PRESIDENT, I MOVE THAT THE SOCIETY "RE"-FUND (AUDIENCE TITTERS) BOTH THESE EXPEDITIONS. WE HAVEN'T SEEN A TEAM LIKE THIS SINCE ROWAN AND MARTIN!

WHISTLES OF APPROVAL COMBINE WITH APPLAUSE.

PRESIDENT: OKAY--SO WHADDA YA SAY?

SOCIETY MEMBERS: AYE!

TRAPPER CARL: (A BEAT LATE) AYE!

PRESIDENT: WELL I GUESS THE AYE'S HAVE IT. NOW FOR OUR LAST AUDITION, ONE OF OUR LONGTIME FAVORITES: TRAPPER CARL, DS. C. TRAPPER CARL IS GOING TO EXHIBIT WHAT HE'S FOUND OUT ON THE TUNDRA IN HIS LATEST EXPEDITION--PAID FOR, OF COURSE, BY [ADOPTING THE COMIC'S DOUBLE ENTENDRE IN A PROUD BUT ENTIRELY TOO BROAD DISPLAY OF WIT) THE "MEMBERS" OF THIS SOCIETY. [ASIDE] OH THAT'S GOOD ONE. [UP] TRAPPER CARL? THE PODIUM IS YOURS.

SOUND OF TRAPPER CARL'S PEG-LEGGED GAIT TO THE PODIUM.

TRAPPER CARL: THANK YA', MR. PRESIDENT. AH, IT'S GOOD TO BE BACK IN THE QUONSET HUT WITH ALL OF MY FRIENDS--(CORRECTING HIMSELF)--COLLEAGUES. I'M HAPPY TO SAY YOUR MONEY'S BEEN WELL SPENT THIS TIME. MEMBERS OF THE SOCIETY: I BRING BEFORE YOU TODAY A WONDROUS SPECTACLE OF SCIENCE...

SOUND OF THE AUDIENCE CLAPPING, MIXED WITH STIFLED SNICKERING AND GUFFAWS.

TRAPPER CARL: THE FINEST SPECIMEN OF AN ANTIQUE HUMAN BEING I'VE EVER BROUGHT BEFORE YOUR EYES YET. MASTER WILLOUGHBY? WOULD YOU KINDLY PUSH OUT THE MAID WHERE WE CAN ALL SEE HER?

SOUND OF MOSQUITO MOTHER'S CAGE SCRAPING ACROSS THE FLOOR ALONG WITH THE SNICKERING MURMURS OF RECOGNITION FROM THE MEMBERS OF THE SOCIETY, THE GROWLING RATTLES OF MOSQUITO MOTHER, AND THE EXERTIONS OF THE PUSHING WILLOUGHBY, WHO GASPS FOR BREATH AS HE REACHES HIS DESTINATION AND STOPS PUSHING.

WILLOUGHBY: HEY, HAVEN'T YA EVER HEARD OF WHEELS? WHY DON'T YA PUT THIS THING ON A DOLLY?

SOUND OF AUDIENCE LAUGHING UPROARIOUSLY.

TRAPPER CARL: AND NOW, MASTER WILLOUGHBY'S... "PROFESSOR."

SOUNDS OF MOMENTARY SILENCE FOLLOWED BY THE PROFESSOR'S THROAT CLEARING AND SHUFFLING UP TO THE PODIUM, WHICH ELICITS A QUICKLY CLIMACTIC "OOOOOOOH" OF WONDER FROM THE SOCIETY MEMBERS AS HE COMES INTO FULL VIEW. THEN THE SOUNDS OF THE PROFESSOR TENTATIVELY TAPPING AND TESTING THE MIKE (WITH MINOR FEEDBACK SOUNDS), WHICH CLARIFIES THE SOCIETY'S REACTION AS A RESPONSE TO THE SPECTACLE OF THE PROFESSOR.

PROFESSOR: HELLO... (SHARP FEEDBACK).... OH MY!

SOUND OF MOSQUITO MOTHER GROWLING IN EQUAL IRRITATION ALONG WITH SOUNDS OF AUDIENCE AND TRAPPER CARL SNICKERING WITH AMUSEMENT.

PROFESSOR: (ATTEMPTING ADDRESS AGAIN) ER, THANK YOU... (REAL SHARP FEEDBACK THAT HURTS).... OH MY!!

MOSQUITO MOTHER GROWLS AND RATTLES IN EQUAL DISTRESS AS THE AUDIENCE LAUGHTER INCREASES IN INTENSITY OF STIFLED SNICKERING.

TRAPPER CARL: (SARCASTICALLY) YOU MUST BE A LITTLE TOO CLOSE TO THE MIKE THERE, "PROFESSOR." WHY DON'T YOU STEP BACK A BIT? I THINK YOU'RE BOTHERIN' THE LADY.

SOUND OF THE MOSQUITO MOTHER GROWLING IN AGREEMENT.

PROFESSOR: (WITH AMBIENCE OF HIS STEPPING AWAY) YES, OF COURSE, THANK YOU. HER CONDITION IS A DELICATE ONE.

SOUND OF MOSQUITO MOTHER GROWLING AGAIN.

PROFESSOR: FELLOW SCIENTISTS... PLEASE ACCEPT MY THANKS FOR YOUR PROFESSIONAL HOSPITALITY. THE UNIVERSAL BROTHERHOOD OF THE SCIENTIFIC ENTERPRISE IS TRULY A GRATIFYING...

CHIPPY: SQUAWK! "THE INTELLECT IS A CLEAVER!" SQUAWK!

SOUND OF AUDIENCE LAUGHING ROBUSTLY.

PROFESSOR: ER... DR. CARL...

TRAPPER CARL: TRAPPER CARL, "PROFESSOR."

PROFESSOR: ER, TRAPPER CARL. WOULD YOU KINDLY... "BUTTON" YOUR EPAULET? IT IS MOST DISTRACTING.

SOUND OF AUDIENCE SNICKERING WITH SPECIAL DELIGHT.

TRAPPER CARL: I'M AFRAID MY EPAULET IS AFLAP, "PROFESSOR." THE "BIRD" IS ON THE WING, AS IT WERE.

WILLOUGHBY: HEY! ARE YOU GONNA MAKE THAT SOUND WITH YOUR MOUTH AGAIN? (MAKES THE RATTLING CHEEK SOUND.)

AUDIENCE LAUGHS AND APPLAUDS WILLOUGHBY; MIXED IN IS THE MODERATOR'S COMMENDATION: THAT'S A GOOD ONE, THAT'S A GOOD ONE.

PROFESSOR: WILLOUGHBY, PLEASE! THIS IS A SERIOUS SCIENTIFIC PROCEEDING! (BEAT) THERE NOW. FELLOW SCIENTISTS... I AM AFRAID I MUST APOLOGIZE FOR NOT HAVING PROPERLY PREPARED MY PAPER. IT HAS ONLY BEEN AN HOUR SINCE MY DISCOVERY, AND THE FLIGHT HERE IN THE INTERIM, (WITH A MILDLY DISAPPROVING TONE) WHILE MOST AMUSING TO MY YOUNG ASSISTANT HERE, WAS MOST UNCONDUCIVE TO MY OWN STUDY. I DO, HOWEVER, HAVE SOME HASTILY SCRIBBLED NOTES FROM WHICH TO READ--AND THE SPECIMEN LADY HERSELF YOU SEE BEHIND ME.

SOUND OF MOSQUITO MOTHER'S GROWL AND CAGE RATTLE, MET WITH MERELY A FEW STRAY COUGHS FROM THE AUDIENCE. AWKWARD BEAT OF SILENCE AS THE PROFESSOR AWAITS A GREATER RESPONSE, THEN THE SOUND OF CHIPPY, TO THE AUDIENCE'S GREAT AMUSEMENT AND THE MODERATOR'S THAT'S A GOOD ONE, ETC.

CHIPPY: ARROW WOBBLE AND HEAD IMPACT.

AUDIENCE LAUGHS.

PROFESSOR: HMMM... NOW LET ME FIND MY PLACE. AH, HERE IT IS. (DECLAIMING FROM THE PREPARED SCRIPT.) AS YOU CAN SEE FROM THE TROPICAL SPECIES OF HER ANIMAL-SKINNED GARB AND FROM THE PRIMITIVE CHARACTER OF HER ACCOUTREMENTS, WHICH INCLUDE, YOU WILL NOTE, THIS SHARPENED BAMBOO STYLET AS WELL AS SOME REMARKABLY WELL PRESERVED HUNTER'S VICTUALS SHE GUARDS ESPECIALLY CLOSELY WITHIN HER LEATHER POUCH, THIS WOMAN ORIGINATES FROM A EPOCH GEOLOGICALLY REMOTE FROM OUR OWN FROZEN TIME. IT IS ONLY THROUGH THE MOST EXTRAORDINARY ACCIDENTS THAT SHE HAS BEEN CYROGENICALLY PRESERVED FOR OUR INSPECTION UNDER THE CAREFULLY CONTROLLED CONDITIONS OF MODERN SCIENCE NOW.

CHIPPY: SOUND OF CAR CRASH.

STARTLED MOSQUITO MOTHER GROWLS LIKE KING KONG WHILE AUDIENCE LAUGHS AND MODERATOR EXCLAIMS "OH BOY! THAT'S SOME FUNNY STUFF." AS THE AUDIENCE LAUGHTER DIES OUT, IT LEAVES A LINGERING AFTERBEAT OF WILLOUGHBY'S CHUCKLE.

PROFESSOR: WILLOUGHBY, PLEASE!

WILLOUGHBY: BUT THAT'S FUNNY, PROFESSOR. YOU SAID "ACCIDENT." AND THEN THERE WAS ONE!

PROFESSOR: (STRAINING WITH PATIENCE) THAT WAS CHIPPY, WILLOUGHBY! NOW PLEASE DON'T MAKE MATTERS WORSE. (GIVES BREATH OF EXASPERATION.) NOW WHERE WAS I? AH, YES. (DECLAIMING) UNFORTUNATELY, HER RAPID DEFROST AND THE UNPREPARED CIRCUMSTANCES MY DISCOVERY HAVE LED TO THE SIGNIFICANT THERMAL DEGRADATION OF HER CORPUS. YOU WILL NOTE, FOR INSTANCE, HER BLACKENED NOSE.

CHIPPY: WHOOSH, NOSE BLOW, AND BUCKET OF FISH HITTING THE PIER.

AUDIENCE BUSTS A GUT, SETTLES, AND LEAVES WILLOUGHBY IN A GASPING LAUGH TILL HE CONTROLS HIMSELF, CLEARLY UNDER THE INFLUENCE OF THE PROFESSOR'S DISAPPROVING STARE.

PROFESSOR: TSK... (BEAT) FELLOW SCIENTISTS! IT IS URGENT THAT THIS WOMAN BE REFRIGERATED IMMEDIATELY!

SOUND OF CIRCUS FLOURISH (TA-DAH!), FOLLOWED BY SOUNDS OF A SEAL ACT GIVING SEAL BARKS FOR A MEASURE OF JINGLE BELLS, THEN A MEASURE IN KAZOO OR HORN BLOWS IN THE SAME SEAL RHYTHM. AUDIENCE CLAPS WITH DELIGHT, FADING OUT TO LEAVE WILLOUGHBY IMITATING THE SEALS.

WILLOUGHBY: TOOT-TOOT-TOOT! TOOT-TOOT-TOOT!

PROFESSOR: DR. CARL!

TRAPPER CARL: TRAPPER CARL, "PROFESSOR."

PROFESSOR: TRAPPER CARL--I MUST INSIST UPON AN END TO THESE INTERRUPTIONS!

SOUNDS OF THE AUDIENCE LAUGHING ESPECIALLY HARD.

TRAPPER CARL: PLEASE, PROFESSOR. I THINK YOU'RE DISTRACTING THE JUGGLERS.

PROFESSOR: JUGGLERS?!

SOUND OF CIRCUS SABRE DANCE MIXED WITH "HEY'S" AND "HO'S" AND PLATE CRASHES, WITH WILLOUGHBY JOINING IN WITH HIS OWN "HEY'S" AND "HO'S". THE AUDIENCE IS GREATLY DELIGHTED, AND THE MUSIC CONTINUES AS THE PROFESSOR AGAIN PROTESTS.

PROFESSOR: FELLOW SCIENTISTS! I HARDLY THINK THAT PRINCIPLES OF INERTIAL AND CENTRIFUGAL FORCE INHERENT IN THE CONCEPT OF SPINNING PLATES UPON STICKS IS APPRORPIRATE TO THE BUSINESS OF THIS SYMPOSIUM.

SOUND OF DOG ACT SUPERIMPOSES NOW UPON THE SABRE DANCE AND PLATE CRASHES: SOUND OF TRAINER'S WHIP (MILD), THE JUMPING RUF'S OF HOOP DIVING DOGS, AND THE FAWNING WHINES OF DOGS EAGER TO PLEASE. OF COURSE, WILLOUGHBY JOINS IN WITH HIS OWN HIGH PITCHED YELPING, AS THOUGH HE CHEERING THEM ON.

TRAPPER CARL: HOW ABOUT THE DYNAMICS OF HOOP-DIVING DOGS, "PROFESSOR"?

AUDIENCE REALLY BUSTS A GUT WITH ENTHUSIASTIC APPROVAL.

MEMBER OF THE SOCIETY: (WITH ENTHUSIASM) MR. PRESIDENT! (SOUNDS END) THIS IS OUTSTANDING ENTERTAINMENT! I MOVE THAT THE SOCIETY FUND TO ITS MOST GENEROUS LEVEL EVER THE FUTURE EXPEDITION OF MASTER WILLOUGHBY'S BRILLIANT--AND HILARIOUS--"PROFESSOR."

MR. PRESIDENT: MOTION RECEIVED. ALL IN FAVOR, SAY "AYE!"

ALL MEMBERS: AYE!

TRAPPER CARL: (IN AFTERBEAT) AYE.

SOUND OF MOSQUITO MOTHER RATTLING CAGE AND GROWLING IN OMINOUS DISPLEASURE.

CUT TO SCENE OF AUTUMNAL MASSACHUSETTS WOODS: FIRST FADING SOUNDS OF HELICOPTER CHOP; THEN FOOT STEPS CRUNCHING LEAVES AMIDST THE GENERAL FOREST AMBIENCE; GOOSE CALLS MIX IN WITH FAINTER BARKS OF A DOG PACK BEING HERDED BY WILLOUGHBYIN THE DISTANCE, GROWING LOUDER AS THE FOOTSTEPS APPROACH THEIR LOCATION UNTIL THE DOG PACK AND WILLOUGHBY BECOMES ALMOST DEAFENING.

WILLOUGHBY: GET OVER HERE, YA MUTT! HEY, GET OFF OF HER! PUT THAT DOWN! NO! NO, NO, NO! BAD DOG! BAD, BAD, BAD! STUPID MONGREL! HEY! THAT'S MY LEG! AH CINAMMON TOAST! THESE DOGS ARE GONNA DRIVE ME NUTS!

PROFESSOR: (ARRIVING) WILLOUGHBY, ROUND UP THE DOGS AND LET THEM GO. WE SHAN'T BE NEEDING THEM.

WILLOUGHBY: BUT WHO'S GONNA PULL ALL THESE SLEDS?

PROFESSOR: NO ONE, WILLOUGHBY. WE'LL HAVE LITTLE ENOUGH USE FOR SUCH EQUIPMENT HERE IN THE AUTUMNAL WOODS OF TEMPERATE NEW ENGLAND--OR RATHER ITS GEOGRAPHIC EQUIVALENT IN THIS WORLD LINE.

WILLOUGHBY: YOU MEAN WE'RE LOST? I TOLD THAT "TRAPPER" THE ANTARCTIC WAS THE OTHER WAY! YA KNOW--I DON'T THINK THAT GUY IS A REAL PILOT AT ALL.

PROFESSOR: I TOO HAVE MY RESERVATIONS ABOUT HIS TRUE PROFESSION--AND INCREASINGLY ABOUT MY OWN AS WELL. WHILE THE SOCIETY HAS SHOWN ITSELF TO BE MOST BOUNTIFUL IN PROVIDING ME WITH THE EQUIPMENT I HAVE REQUESTED...

WILLOUGHBY: YEAH--THERE'S GOT TO BE AT LEAST A YEAR'S SUPPLY OF DOG FOOD HERE.

PROFESSOR: JUST SO. UNFORTUNATELY, THEY HAVE PROVIDED US WITH NO PROVISION FIT FOR OUR OWN CONSUMPTION. MORE TO THE POINT, THEY HAVE DEPOSITED US AT AN IMPOSSIBLE REMOVE FROM OUR EXCAVATION SITE. IN ORDER TO DRIVE THESE DOGS TO ANTARCTIC, I SHOULD HAVE TO LASH THEM THROUGH THE VERY TROPICS OF THE EQUATOR, A PRODIGIOUS TASK BEYOND EVEN THE NUMBERS AND STRENGTH OF THESE EXEMPLARY SPECIMENS OF PACK ANIMALS.

WILLOUGHBY: THAT'S WHAT I TOLD TRAPPER!

PROFESSOR: AS WOULD I HAVE... HAD I NOT BEEN BEEN NAUSEATED BEYOND SPEECH THESE PAST THREE DAYS AS A RESULT OF YOUR ERRACTIC PILOTING SKILLS.

WILLOUGHBY: HEY COME ON, PROFESSOR! I JUST GOT THESE WINGS, YA KNOW!

PROFESSOR: NO NEED TO APOLOGIZE, WILLOUGHBY. WHILE OUR PROSPECTS OF RECOVERING MORE FROZEN WOMEN OF THE PREHISTORIC PAST HAVE CONSIDERABLY DIMINISHED, A NEW AND EQUALLY EXCITING INVESTIGATION INTO OWN SURVIVAL UNDER ADVERSE CONDITIONS OFFERS ITSELF TO US.

WILLOUGHBY: YOU MEAN WE GOTTA LIVE ON THIS DOG FOOD?

PROFESSOR: NO, WILLOUGHBY. WE SHALL BE LIVING OFF THE LAND.

WILLOUGBHY: OH! WE'RE GOIN' CAMPIN'! GOOD THING WE HAVE ALL THESE TENTS. AND DOGS! I'LL BET IT GETS REAL COLD OUT HERE IN THE WINTER!

PROFESSOR: NOT QUITE WILLOUGHBY... AS THOREAU HAS PUT IT, WE SHALL SPEND A SEASON "AS DELIBERATELY AS NATURE."

CHIPPY: (AS A PARROT) SQUAWK! "AND NOT BE THROWN OFF THE TRACK" SQUAWK! "BY EVERY NUTSHELL AND MOSQUITO WING" SQUAWK!"THAT FALLS UPON THE RAILS."

WILLOUGHBY: HEY PROFESSOR! THAT SOUNDS LIKE CHIPPY IN THE DOG FOOD!

SOUNDS OF LAST DIALOGUE FADE OUT AS THE PROFESSOR AND WILLOUGHBY TROMP OFF INTO THE LEAVES.

PROFESSOR: OR SOMEWHERE AMONGST OUR SUPPLIES... WHICH WE SHALL BE LEAVING BEHIND WITH THESE DOGS. COME ALONG, WILLOUGHBY. THERE IS A POND NEARBY. WE WILL BUILD AN ABODE OF OUR OWN.

WILLOUGHBY: AW, PROFESSOR. CAN'T I TAKE THE SICK ONE WITH US? HE REMINDS ME OF BONES. AND CHIPPY 'LL BE A LOAD OF LAUGHS! I'LL BE IT GETS REAL BORING OUT HERE IN THE WINTER.

CHIPPY: (UPFRONT, AS THOUGH REMAINING IN PLACE) SQUAWK! "THE ECHO IS TO SOME EXTENT AN ORIGINAL SOUND." (P. 1609) SQUAWK!

PROFESSOR: (MUMBLING IN HIS SEMI-SLEEP OVER THE NOW MORE PROMINENT GIBBERISH LYRICS OF THE MOSQUITO MOTHER) HMMMMM.... THOSE LYRICS.... ANCIENT.... ENCHANTING...