Posted by
Cynewulf on Saturday, September 02, 2006 12:26:37 AM
(The lads walk down a dusty street in Baghdad)
Joe: We have got to stop flying.
Birhtwold: Quit your whinin’. Just cause you’ve been searched five out of four times.
Kells: Yeah, I can’t believe they searched you twice leaving London.
Birhtwold: Well, if he’d keep his mouth shut once in a while . . .
Joe: Yeah, yeah. Har, har. Very funny. Any idea where we are?
Birhtwold: I don’t know. This doesn’t match the map.
Kells: I knew we should have taken that left turn at Al Burqua.
Joe: Let’s ask that dude over there.
Birhtwold: Wait . . .
Joe: Yo! Old, dude! Can you tell us how to get to the -
Fanatic: I kill you!
Joe: Uh, right. Look, we just want to -
Fanatic: I kill you!
Joe: Um. Never mind. We’ll just -
Fanatic: I kill you! I kill you! I kill you!
(A crowd gathers)
Kells: What do you think? Are those the only English words he knows.
Birhtwold: English! That’s it! Pretend we’re Canadians!
Joe: How’s it goin’, eh? Where can we get some Elsinore, eh?
Fanatic: I kill you!
Joe: Take off, you hoser!
Birhtwold: I meant French Canadian.
Joe: Parlez-vous -
Fanatic (pulling beard out, spittle flying): I killllll youuuuu! Yearrrrrrrrrrgh!
Birhtwold: Holy crap! He’s Deaning out!
Kells: Quick! Do something!
Joe (jumping out in front, patting hip): I’m a Texan, eh. I've got a gun, and I’m not afraid to use it on you hosers.
(The crowd shrinks back)
Joe: That’s right! That’s what I thought!
Birhtwold (as a shadow falls over them from behind them): Um, Joe?
Joe (whispering): Sh! It’s working!"
Douglas (Joe jumps at the sound of his voice): Gin ye want tae live, ye best be comin’ wi’ oos.
To be continued . . .