Posted by tonywonder in 2010 | 0 Comments
Chickenpiece Theater, Vol. 2: American Idolatry
In this week’s edition of Chicken Piece Theater: a line-by-line recap of American Idol’s visit to Milwaukee. Special appearance by Wire, whose song “Smash” is catchy and British.)
— ACT 1 —
RANDY JACKSON: What’s up, dawgs of America? We’re here today in Milwaukee, Wisconsin at the beautiful Milwaukee Museum of Modern Fart
(uproarious laughter from all on set)
JACKSON: …on the lookout for the city’s best young voices, breasts, thick-rimmed glasses, and dawgs.
RYAN SEACREST: by the way, I made more money for this show than you could ever possibly imagine.
STEVEN TYLER: hey Randy, I read this Milwaukee blog and apparently Milwaukee’s got quite the untapped reservoir of people who want to be on TV for a couple seconds, tops.
JACKSON: what blog, dawg?
TYLER: it was on Mogmusic.
JACKSON: the Mog blog dawg?
TYLER: yes.
JENNIFER LOPEZ: talent? in this town? Mind-doggling.
(laughter)
LOPEZ: what? Is it my accent again? Mind-doggling. Mind-doggling.
(uproarious laughter)
LOPEZ: mind-doggling.
— ACT 2 —
(CONTESTANT 1 sings the very last note of Wire’s “Smash”)
TYLER: one of the few instances in which I can honestly say I could have done better.
CONTESTANT 1: though certainly it wasn’t as bad as Aerosmith’s album of blues covers.
JACKSON: pure doggerel!
SEACREST: I think we should all stop and focus on how absurdly lucky I am to be so rich.
CONTESTANT 1: I mean, what is Aerosmith anyway? Like the 70s equivalent to Bush or something?
(TYLER’S face droops in sadness)
JACKSON: hey, watch it dawg.
LOPEZ: his daughter is an elven warrior, you know…
SEACREST: that’s what I hear.
JACKSON: you don’t wanna be messin’ with that…
(Cast leans inward in anticipation)
JACKSON: …
(TYLER begins to bite his fingernails, SEACREST starts sweating profusely)
JACKSON: …
(The room begins to tremble, Lopez’s HALF-EMPTY CAN OF JUMEX drops onto the floor, lights begin to flicker)
JACKSON: …
(CONTESTANT 1 falls to the ground in what appears to be an epileptic fit, foam streaming from mouth; SEACREST clutches his chest, veins bulging from his head and neck; lights black out completely, all is enveloped in darkness)
JACKSON: …
SEACREST: (between strangled sobs) the time is upon us!
(LOPEZ throws a match into the puddle of Jumex, and the puddle bursts into flames. She withdraws a tattered book and begins to mutter incantations. TYLER’S face begins to melt)
JACKSON: …
(LOPEZ’S BUTT begins to swell and glow; CONTESTANT 1 bursts into flames; TYLER’S face has completely melted off, revealing that he is actually MISSION IMPOSSIBLE-ERA TOM CRUISE, with one of the fake rubber faces and all)
LOPEZ: (sagely) so the prophecy is true.
JACKSON: …
CRUISE: you had to have always known it would come down to this.
LOPEZ: by which you mean?
CRUISE: you had to have always known that Steven Tyler’s face would melt off in the Milwaukee Art Museum for some reason. And underneath that face would be me, for some reason. And then we’d have to fight…
LOPEZ and CRUISE: (in unison) …for some reason.
(LOPEZ withdraws nunchaku from general posterior region; CRUISE draws the fabled L. Ron Hubbard Secret Official Sword of Scientology.)
LOPEZ: and so the rumors are true…
JACKSON: …
SEACREST: (in prone position, straining to breathe but loathe to neglect his duties as host) For many moons, Scientological prophecies have foretold that the Sword of Hubbard, buried in the occluded tunnels of the mystical Garage of Travolta, can only be wielded by the true messiah. And only in exchange for a hefty penance. (coughs blood)
(SEACREST shudders and faints. JACKSON runs to revive him with a bottle of OVERTLY VISIBLE VITAMIN WATER)
LOPEZ: and that penance is…
CRUISE: thirty million dollars cash.
SEACREST: (clearly suffering) …you bastard!
(JACKSON leans over SEACREST, cradles his head, holds SUPER LARGE AND DELICIOUS-LOOKING BOTTLE OF VITAMIN WATER to his lips)
SEACREST: alas, it is too late even for these life-giving elixirs…(spits Vitamin Water onto ground. Floor quickly corrodes into a small, sizzling, popping crater)…I fear my time has come…
(JACKSON begins to weep quietly)
SEACREST: (with his dying breath) …and so if you’re just joining us, call 1-800-666-IDOL to cast your vote for this year’s American Idol – press 1 for Jennifer Lopez, or 2 for Tom Cruise. Or you can text those same number – 1 for Jen, 2 for Tom – to I-D-O-L, that’s I-D-O-L. Be sure to tune in to our season finale next week, featuring special guest host John Travolta, filling in for the newly-dead Ryan Seacrest. Again, America, that’s 1 for Jen…(coughs up large reams of blood)…and 2 for Tom…America…the world…Seacrest…out.
(SEACREST shudders and dies in JACKSON’S arms, LOPEZ and CRUISE fight girlishly, the Milwaukee Art Museum begins to crumble, collapse is imminent, the skies are churning with black and fire dances atop Lake Michigan)
JACKSON: …dawg!
(everything goes back to normal.)
JACKSON: I love that.
TYLER: fuck you.
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