Fritzy's Sock Puppet Theatre Presents: The Ebola Tour 2014/15

CONTINUING ANNOUNCEMENT TO THE TOUR GROUP:

"The Ebola virus is an uncommonly large and rare life form
Much too large to be spread through the aerosoling of bodily fluids
Such as when one sneezes
Or pees into a spray bottle
And spritzes one's mates for laughs

The Ebola is a sickly flu-carrying parasite
That actually attacks the host organism
Through the use of both tooth and claw
It is thus that the signature profuse bleeding is produced
As pointed out in your Ebola Tour 2014/15 vacation brochures

Thankfully
After a short period of time
(The typical store bought Ebola)
Displays an ignorance of its surroundings
Quickly drowning within the blood and other fluids
That it has caused by its very actions

Now
Those of you who signed up for the Platinum Package
Please follow me through door number one
As we will get you fitted for your HazMat suits

Everyone else
Follow Eloise through door number two
Where we have piles of dust masks and cheap rubber gloves
Remember you were supposed to supply your own eye protection

We'll all meet back here in half an hour
For finger sandwiches and hand squeezed lemonade
Courtesy of Ramone over there"

~Ramone waves and quickly covers a sneeze with the other hand~
"Achoo!"

"Bless you Ramone
Get going on those sandwiches and juice!"

Fifty-Nine

Ensconced within your ruddy '59 Cadillac
A chariot to the stars of old
The Cleopatras of Hollywood
On their way to The Bowl

But this four-wheeled carriage's best days are behind it
With fenders flapping
Edges ragged with brown rust
Not the ideal complement to the faded black paint

Peddling a tattered three inch thick screenplay
Going from door to fancy door
Agents, producers, actors all backing away saying "No Thanks"
Leaving you to drive away topless in a rainy downpour

Oh the poor old Biarritz tries its best
But a power convertible top
That consists of scraps of white fabric clinging to black metal frame
Can only do so much to keep the weather out

And so the water soaks into the premium leather
The kind that they just don't make anymore
But bringing back that faded black paint just a bit
Now looking a bit less like a dirty garage floor

Same as it soaks into you
Your flannel shirt and white tee
Long black beard and dungarees
Giving you that shiny wet look
Sort of clammy ghetto glamorous
Like an old sheep dog's fur that needs to be shook

Quite the pair the two of you are
Both born in nineteen fifty-nine
Still trying to live the good life
And just a little bit past your prime

Anchors Away

In the beginning
Before you knew that you were you

There was you

Floating in the fluid
In the dark
With your own thoughts
An anchor to yourself
Knowing what this world was all about

Then everything changed
What was warm and wet
Was not cold and toweled dry
This was no longer the world you knew
Things had changed

And so it went
From one change to another
Meeting new people
Drifting away from others

There were those you were certain you could not live without
But you found that you could

There were those who said they could not live without you
But they found out they were wrong too

Of phrases heard along the way
"You are my anchor"
Or
"You are my rock"
Are things people sometimes say

But if they are so adrift
You should likely stay clear
Lest that anchor slip free
Or rock shift and crush something dear

In the end there is just you
As eyes close for the final time
Heart stops
Brainiac electricity peters out

You were your own anchor in reality
As it really must be
A rock to built your reality upon
Sailing the open spaces around you
Free to be the finest version of a "Me"

E.XX.X Series Technical Bulletin #4276

Regarding the Gravity Engine Servo System (GESS)

And the Orbital Sensor Tether System (OSTS):

The recent malfunction of the OSTS

And the resultant loss of four orbital Sensors

Cost the Company sixteen hours of downtime

Over the North American quadrant

A relentless root cause committee has determined

That contaminated re-supply containers out of Birdling's Flat Catapult were to blame

As a result

Approximately 112 Vespadelus Vulturnus (Little Forest Bat)

Were unintentionally released in the Central Maintenance Area

Said bats found refuge in the narrow slots along the root anchors of the OSTS

Fouling the mechanism with their guano

Which caused the emergency release mechanism to sense an overload

Releasing the four tethers on that root section

Engineering was contacted and blamed

However

They explained that bat guano was not something that was in the design specs

Therefore blame must be transferred exclusively to the resupply handlers on the ground

This portion of the investigation is still pending

As a stop gap measure

The eatery previously known as Sally's Forth 

Before the disastrous fire from two Christmas' past

Will now be used as a sealed area to receive inbound cargo

Cargo will be moved piecemeal into this area

Blast doors will be lowered

And only then will the Level 1 maintenance crews open the containers

If contamination is found

It can be vented to vacuum easily

With only trivial losses of any perishables within that single container

And one low level four person crew

If you have any further questions regarding this issue

Please reference your employee handbooks

As well as your employment contract's expendability clauses

End of E-XX.X Tech Bulletin #4276

Wishing you a pleasant day

~ Compiled and approved by Bureaucratic Computational System v.64.8734a ~

An Obligatory Poem For Your Wedding

So it's your wedding day

And you are the loveliest bride I've ever seen

Don't let anyone tell you any different

Whether true or a lie nobody would be so mean

What's that?

No, seriously you look wonderful

It's your day so I have to say

There are rules, I checked

Your beau to be

Looks cut out of a magazine

His teeth could cut glass

Not to mention his abs and ass

So don't let yourself go girl

Because he looks to be a player

If the way he's chatting up your bridesmaid there

Is how he thinks is playing fair

Shoo you, now go

The music's starting up!

Oh here comes the bride

With tears on her cheek

A stranglehold upon her bouquet

And a chain wrapped about her feet

I hope you like this obligatory poem I wrote for you

My exquisite white mother requested it

She said if I did it I wouldn't have to buy you a present

Because as we all know

Bad poetry you never wanted is truly heaven sent

Etiam Facere Sanctis

I'll not make the same mistakes
I won't dunk the persian cat in the toilet
Nor will I stuff my homework into my desk undone
I'd do all the hard work
I'd shirk most of the fun
When it comes around again

I'll travel the world
And not just for business
I'll see all the postcard places
Learn some new languages
Explore some Siberian open spaces
When it all comes 'round again

To do all this I'll need a time machine
Or maybe a new religion
One that doesn't just reincarnate into something new
But to do a hard reset back to zero
With a life's experience as a bit of extra weight
When we get to go around again

I'm sure it would just be a niche
Since walking the same path can be a bore
Though exploring the paths not taken could be exciting
Study a different major subject
Don't run from that bee and just take the sting
When I put those smaller shoes on again

Since the thing I need isn't there yet
I think I'll invent it as I go
Our idol will be a god with strawberry hair
With the grand prize for a mostly moral life
A do-over most holy with a breath of young air
When this new path leads me back to me again

St. Gunnigan's Home For The Insane

Oh, at Gunnigan's!

St Gunnigan's!

Here at St Gunnigan's home for the insane

I rattled off me name

Oh I rattled off me worth

But I weren't talking to Christ

I found I was talking to dirt!

(Oy, a great bloody pile of it!)

At Gunnigan's

Oh, St Gunnigan's

St Gunnigan's home for the insane!

It all started one day
As I set out for work
I saw a sad hamadryad
And I started to flirt
Till I thought things were going well
Went in for a kissing spree
But wouldn't you know it
I got a mouthful of bark
As I learned that she was a tree!

Oh, at Gunnigan's!

St Gunnigan's!

Here at St Gunnigan's home for the insane

I built me a castle

It were a home for a king

But turns out I'm no builder

T'was just a wad o'sticky wet string!

(And a fookin' mess it were too!)

At Gunnigan's

Oh, St Gunnigan's

St Gunnigan's home for the insane!