Tag: television

Olympics

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Halfway across the world, athletes in skin-tight polymer suits raced down snowy slopes and gracefully whooshed around flagpoles.
“Why are there no Spring and Autumn Olympics?” asked Mary, turning off the television.
Roger scratched his head. “I’m not sure,” he said. “Maybe there aren’t any Spring or Autumn sports.”
“I play horseshoes in the fall,” said Mary. “And we always play croquet in the spring.”
“I don’t think anyone would watch that,” said Roger.
“Do people really need to watch?” asked Mary.
“Good question,” said Roger.
Mary turned the television back on, but the network was now in a commercial.

Later flight

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Despite a running through the terminal like O.J. Simpson, I was late.
I remember pounding on the door and yelling at the gate attendants to stop the plane.
They didn’t. Instead, they stopped me.
“I gotta be in New York by five or I lose the client!” I shouted.
“Then you should have been here by two-thirty,” grumbled the cop as he handcuffed me.
Two hours later, they opened my holding cell.
“The plane went down over Indiana,” said a guard. “You’re the luckiest man on earth.
I called the client to explain, but luck only goes so far.
Bastards.

Unwelcome Visitor

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Too much TV is bad for your eyes and the fabric of space-time.
A rent in the universe opened up behind my entertainment center last week.
Every now and then, a hideous tangle of tentacles and fangs comes screaming out of the wormhole, lashes around for a minute or so, then slowly wiggles itself to death as it chokes on our nitrogen and oxygen atmosphere.
We dump their bodies in the trash. Double-bagged. Those fangs are sharp, you know.
The dog ran through the portal this morning. The kids want me to go after him.
Screw that. We’re getting fish.

Housebroken

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Frosty the snowman told his wife Krystal that he didn’t want a dog.
Krystal insisted. “We need him for security,” she said.
“Dogs are messy things,” said Frosty. “And they make snow yellow.”
Frosty lost. They got the dog.
“Stupid dog,” mumbled Frosty.
Frosty tried to housebreak the thing, but it kept falling asleep in front of the fireplace and melting all over the carpet.
“Your dog wet the carpet again,” said Krystal.
“My dog?”
Frosty sighed, held up one of the dog’s coal eyes, and pointed it at the wet spot.
“Look what you did!” shouted Frosty. “Bad doggy!”

He wore pink

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Another hot night in Miami.
In the Ferrari, Crockett and Tubbs were discussing philosophy, as usual.
“It’s a fuzzy hat,” said Crockett.
“It’s a cat,” said Tubbs.
“Hat,” said Crockett.
“Cat,” said Tubbs.
Crockett and Tubbs argued all night when they should have been watching the subject.
Surveillance usually went this way.
Several days later, they got their man and headed back to the station.
“Hat,” said Crockett.
“Cat,” said Tubbs.
“What?” said The Lieutenant.
“That can’t possibly be a mustache, sir,” said Tubbs.
The Lieutenant scowled, mumbled something like “morons,” and stared as Crockett and Tubbs left the room.

The Old Man and the Sea of Tranquility

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Everybody’s familiar with the movies showing astronauts moon-golfing, but you’ll never any of Luke “Studs” Morgan casting his fishing reel.
In the lesser lunar gravity. he could cast a mile.
Reeling it back in with those thick gloves was hard, Luke said, but the worst part was spearing a vacuum-exposed, subzero-frozen worm on the hook.
His crewmate “Tank” Washington hid behind a boulder and planned on sticking a frozen salmon on the hook, but there’s a scream and that’s where the tape ends.
He came back as cargo and got buried at Arlington.
Hence the tape label: “Fishing Tank Accident.”

Reality blows

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The show is called Weathering The Storm.
The producers own homes all along the Gulf Coast.
Once they know a hurricane is heading towards one of them, we’re dropped into the nearest house.
Well, actually, they’re just run-down shacks. No better than a house of cards.
Cameras… canned food… bandages…
Body bags.
Survivors share five million bucks. Less survivors means split fewer ways.
It’s a big storm. Maybe even too big. Category two… three…
The producers are banging on the door, telling us we have to get out.
Everyone flees with them.
Except me. I know it’s a trick.
Suckers.

Les vs. The Lesbians

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Les Nessman put the disk in his DVD player and hit Play.
Nothing.
He stabbed the button a few more times.
Still nothing.
He shrugged and wandered off to lunch.
Johnny Fever stepped over Les’ tape-wall, opened the tray, and turned it right side up.
Two hours hardcore of Jennifer and Bailey, all for Les.
He popped out the DVD, ripped a copy of Snow White, and put it in the tray.
Les came back from lunch and tried again.
It worked.
Later that day, Les was slapped twice for saying he thought Dopey’s kiss was the cutest of all.

COPS: Third Dimension

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It’s not easy cornering a timefugitive, so when you shout “We have you surrounded” you’d better block them in all directions as well as in the past and the future.
Also, pandimensional hyperbeings may not understand “Come out with your hands up.” Not only are you assuming they have hands, but in higher dimensions “up” is not always “un-down” and “out” may involve going further in and then wormholing back around.
Finally, “This is your last warning” is actually the first warning for retrotemporal outlaws. Those are the worst, since from their perspective they’ve only just gotten out of prison.

Les Nessman and the Bandages

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There was a running gag on WKRP that Les Nessman appeared with a bandage somewhere on his body. Richard Sanders showed up one day with a bandage on, and the writers decided to keep it going throughout the series.
Sometimes, the bandage is not easy to spot.
Those are the episodes you can assume that Les had a really bad evening the night before with a crackwhore, and she (or he) wasn’t very delicate with Les’s various important appendages.
Who am I kidding? This is Les Nessman, dammit! No crackwhore will do.
Um… Bailey and Jennifer in a Les Sandwich!