The Adventures of Jewey Jewman and Friends
Started April 10, 2002
Round Two: I Know What You Did the Other Day
by The JSEB Arena
It was a warm, beautiful
day just like the warm, beautiful spring Day of our last story. Only it was
summer and warmer, and a couple days later. That means that our last story took
place about the last week of June, making it possible for it to be a few days
later and be summer. If you don't understand, look in the dictionary under Solstices,
At the TDS Studios in New
York, the cast and crew were getting ready to take a trip.
"Steve! Have you seen my
jar of Nad's?" Jon yelled.
Steve Carell snickered,
"No," he said. "No Jon, I guess you don't have any NADS!" he said louder in
the hopes that other people would hear him.
Jon emerged from his office
carrying a lawn chair and wearing a sun hat. "Very funny, Steve," he said. "You
know I mean that Australian hair removal stuff. If I don't remove my back hair
before we leave I am going to attract sea gulls again!"
"Yeah!" Steve said, applying
suntan lotion and munching on some pretzels that were usually designated for
the green room. "We were counting on that this time. This year Jon, this summer
spectacular is gonna be the summer spectacular to beat all summer spectaculars!
I just know it!"
Stephen Colbert grinned
as he entered Jon's office in a pair of Bermuda shorts and a Hawaiian shirt.
"How do I look homies?" he asked, spinning around. "Like one awesome dude?"
"You're a lady killer!"
Steve said, his mouth full of pretzel mush.
"Men!" Jon said, putting
his arms around his two pals and looking at the pile of beach items they had
assembled and placed on the floor. "This is gonna be great. One weekend at the
Jersey shore. Just us and our crew of about 50 people, making sweet hot summer
spectacular comedy love in the sunshine. No wives, no kids, no pets ... no clothes!
Steve, will you wax my back?"
"Sure, sure," Steve said,
getting Jon's special Nad's stick from the pen holder on his desk. "But don't
tell anyone I do this for you," he said as Jon straddled the chair and readied
himself for the pain, even though Nad's came with new ouchless strip technology.
"Guys," Stephen said, looking
out the window as Steve lovingly applied wax to Jon's back. "Do you ever feel
like you're being watched?"
"Well we ARE on TV, Stephen!"
Steve said, ripping a strip off Jon's back and comforting him as the sensitive
Jew trembled from the pain. "Shhh, it's okay, almost done, Jonny."
"Not that," Stephen said,
his brow furrowing. "I see things sometimes. A woman, Kathie Lee. What if ...
what if we really didn't kill her? What's if she's not dead?"
"Stephen!" Jon said. "You
saw her, there's no way someone could have survived being humped by hundreds
of horny cats!"
"But still ..." Stephen
said, coming away from the window. "Still ..."
"Stephen, repeat after me,"
Steve said, giving Jon a break from waxing. "There is no woman with a puppy."
"There is no woman with
a puppy ...." Stephen muttered.
"There! See! I bet you feel
better!" Jon said, twisting in his seat to see his half waxed back. "Steve!
I look like half an ape over here, come on!"
As Steve resumed his position
over Jon's Nads (couldn't help myself, guys), Colbert sighed and started packing
a cooler of beer, soda and Crystal Light.
But little did he know that
just across the street in an abandoned Saks Fifth Avenue (where Jon had bought
his Nad's ;) ), a woman peered into her telescope, spying on the trio and laughed
wickedly as she bit into a warm, tasty puppy ....
Jon looked over at Colbert.
"Stephen, snap out of it."
Colbert, who'd been staring
out the window for the past half hour, turned to face Jon. "I just can't help
it! I can't get it out of my head ... those puppy bones, the fur ... the matted,
ratted fur on the floor, the little teeth ... the teeth ... I hear them, Jon
... I hear the howls at night ... I hear her laughing ... Oh the horror, Jon!
Steve dropped Jon's Nads
on the floor and turned to Colbert, his face red. "Stop it! Stop it right now!
Don't do this to yourself! Don't do this to us! My head is planted firmly up
my ass and I fully intend it to stay there!!!"
Jon sighed, standing up,
trying to inspect his back. "Steve, I believe that's planted firmly in the sand."
"Head up your ass is a saying
"Yeah, but I think you meant
head in the sand, like an ostrich ... hiding from the truth." Jon said, putting
his shirt back on. "Head up your ass is stubborn ... like, unwilling to see
other people's points of view."
Steve thought, biting his
lip. "Yeah, you're right ... that one then." He turned to Colbert, who'd began
staring out the window. "I have my head planted firmly in the sand, and I fully
intend it to stay there!"
Colbert heaved a huge sigh.
Jon walked over and put
a hand on Colbert's back. "You think we don't hear that? See that? Every damn
day? But you have to get past it!"
Colbert turned to him, angry.
"It's your fault! It's all your fault ... you and your damn charismatic charm!
If you had just never said anything about Kathie Lee ... and if you hadn't taken
Craig's job with such aplomb and enthusiasm! Why couldn't you just fail Jon?!
Jon stepped back. "Stephen,
I ..." Jon's eyes watered and he turned from Colbert.
Colbert suddenly doubled
over in laughter. "Boy, you are so gay!" He wiped at his eyes, which were watering
from laughter. "Woo!" Imitating Jon. "Stephen, I ..." He doubled over in laughter
Jon managed a wan smile,
but Steve took up for him. "Hey, that's not fair! You know how sensitive Jon
is ..." but then he too started to laugh. "It's not ... fair to ...."
"Woo!!! I am the king of
guilt! WOOOOOOOO!" Colbert said, pumping his fists in the air.
Jon finally let out a breath
and laughed slightly. "So, you didn't mean any of that?"
Colbert laughed harder.
"Of course I did, but I didn't mean it to OFFEND you!" He swung an arm around
Jon and motioned for Steve to join. Hugging the two to his side, he smiled.
"I loves you hoes!"
And the trio broke down
into fits of giggles.
[Meanwhile, across the
"DAMNIT!" Kathie Lee crowed,
from her wheelchair. "They're laughing now ... I thought Colbert would turn
Kilborn glared at her from
his perch at the window. "Why am I not in charge?"
Kathie sighed, rolling her
eyes. "STOP ASKING ME THAT! JESUS!"
Kilborn huffed and hugged
his knees to his chest. "I think I should be in charge! You're confined to a
wheel chair for Christ's sake! Atleast I have usage of my legs ... and my face
isn't covered in ... gashes."
"Craiggy ... Craiggers!"
Kathie crooned, tightening the veil covering her face. "Be a doll honey, mommy
can't take the screaming."
Kilborn shuddered. 'Mommy'
he thought to himself with a shudder. 'One day I'll be in charge, and then you'll
see Gifford ... then you'll see.'
"Craig, my sores are pussing
again, could you be a honeybunny and get my ointment?"
Kilborn sighed. 'Just as
soon as I grow some gonads ... you'll see,' he thought to himself as he pranced
his way down the hall to the medicine cabinet.
"THE WHEELS ON THE VAN GO
ROUND AND ROUND!" Steve sang loudly from the backseat.
In the front, Jon and Stephen
sighed. "Can't you make him shut up?" Jon asked.
"I told him no cookies when
we get to the beach, but that doesn't work!" Stephen replied.
Jon picked up an empty soda
can and threw it in the backseat, "Shut UP!" he yelled.
Steve stopped singing, but
he sulked and sucked his thumb.
"We're gonna tell Nancy
you were bad!" Stephen said, looking over his shoulder at Steve.
Steve just stuck his tongue
out at him.
"This is Ranting Rad Papa,
come in Jump Jiving Jew!" came a voice from the walkie-talkie on the dashboard.
The crew was caravaning down to the shore and had walkie-talkies in each car
to keep track of everyone. For fun, they had all picked radio names.
"I read you, Lewis!" Jon
said, trying to simultaneously steer the van and reach for the walkie-talkie.
"Jump Jiving Jew acknowledges, Roger."
"Matt Walsh has to pee,"
Lewis said. "Apparently the pansy has a bladder the size of bin Laden's penis.
We're gonna pull over."
"Roger that," Jon said,
rather enjoying the radio talk. "We're almost at the campsite, we'll keep going
and set up. Over and out!"
"I'm getting scared," Steve
said, pulling his blankie tighter around him. "It's dark out here, and scary.
I want Nancy!!"
After leaving New York,
the TDS caravan had driven for a few hours, stopping along the way so Matt Walsh
could relieve himself and to buy Steve candy to keep him entertained. Jon and
Stephen were desperate to get to the campsite, as they'd played numerous games
of "Eye-Spy" and sung all the songs they knew to keep Steve happy. Steve was
never good company during road trips.
"We're almost there," Jon
said, turning the brights on. "Boy, it sure is dark in the Jersey outback!"
"Jon, we're just outside
Newark," Stephen said dryly.
"Yeah! The outback!" Jon
Suddenly a loud popping
noise came from underneath the van. The three screamed as the van swerved out
of control. Jon covered his eyes and screamed like a girl.
"JON!" Colbert yelled, "The
Still screaming, Jon managed
to grab a hold of the wheel and safely crash the van into a tree.
"Whew!" Jon said, breathing
a sigh of relief. "We must have blown out a tire or something." Looking outside
into the inky black night on the deserted road, Jon gulped and said, "Say uh
... Stephen, buddy. How about you get out and look?"
Stephen laughed heartily.
"Good one, Jon. My rear is steering clear. Get Steve to do it."
From the backseat Steve
started sucking his thumb again. "Wow. I've lived in the city for so long that
I forgot that night is so ... dark."
Jon sighed and slouched
in his seat, "Well, I guess we can wait for Lewis and the others to drive by
and see us."
The three sat in silence
for a minute, tensing at every nature sound that came from the blackness.
"Sooo ..." Colbert said.
"Anyone seen any good movies lately?"
Suddenly a loud screeching
sound came from just outside the van.
"WHAT WAS THAT?" Steve yelled,
sitting up in his seat. "NANCY! I WANT NANCY!"
"SHHH!" Jon said. "Whatever
it was, if we don't move it can't see us."
"Wrong movie!" Colbert said,
smacking Jon on the back of the head. "This isn't even a movie, it's a story,
"What are we gonna do?"
Jon said, rubbing the back of his head. "Anyone bring any pepper spray?"
The van shook this time
as another screeching, moaning, generally scary sound came from just behind
"It's her!" Colbert said.
"I just know it's her! Oh God, she's come to kill us!"
"Shut up, Stephen!" Jon
said, "you'll scare Steve! I'm gonna radio for the others."
As Jon picked up the walkie
talkie, looking foward to saying something like May Day or SOS, a large shadowy
mass appeared in front of the windshield.
"Suuuuck myyyy diiii --"
Colbert said, but he was cut off by an explosion.
The black mass swarmed around
the vehicle. The shrieking sound intensified until it reached an earsplitting
decibel. As the Steve and Stephen cowered in horror, Jon pulled out a cigarette
and lit it.
"I can't take this anymore,"
he shouted over the noise, puffing smoke. "I'm sick of being a coward. I'm sick
of being a pansy. Even the JSEB Arena seems to think I'm some sort of loser,
and these are the people who LOVE ME." Jon ripped off his sweater vest and flexed
his muscles. "I AM A MAN!" he roared. His surge of testosterone forced the recently
waxed hairs to regenerate and burst from his chest.
At that moment, the shrieking
sound shattered every window of the van. Jon picked up a snow scraper from the
floor of the van and turned to face the horror. The black mass stopped moving,
and the shrieking sound died down. Through every window, the men could see what
awaited them. They saw faces. Hundreds of little faces, peering at them with
more fiery hatred than a thousand suns.
That were surrounded by
a legion of ferocious, rabid midgets! (Sorry, that wasn't politically correct.)
They were surrounded by a legion of ferocious, rabid little people!
"How DARE you compare us
to Sylvester Stallone!" shrieked one, who was apparently the leader because
he wore a solid gold baseball cap. "And Tom Cruise!" shrieked another. "And
Billy Joel!" shrieked yet another. "And YOU," they little people shrieked in
"I AM A MAN!" reroared Jon,
and he punched the nearest little person in the head, knocking him into several
other little people.
"Um, Jon?" whispered Steve,
tugging at Jon's sleeve.
"You little bastards are
going to pay for the damage to this van!" shouted Jon. "You're not going to
raise MY insurance rates!"
"Jon, could you, uh, STOP,"
"And another thing," spat
Jon, "you will call a tow company ASAP and get us to a repair station now! And
I want my entire deductible in cash, in my hand, before we leave this area!
And one more thing --"
The little people moved
forward. They reached in and pulled all three out of the van and bound them
tightly, particularly Jon, who muttered on about AAA and tow receipts until
they stuffed a pair of thongs into his mouth.
The last thing the three
men remembered before the little people knocked them out with chloroform was
the realization that they were being dragged through the woods. And the last
thing said was by Stephen, who said with horror, "Those thongs ... in Jon's
mouth ... are KATHIE LEE brand panties!" Then, mercifully, the darkness came.
And in the shattered van,
the radio static cut the erie silence of the road. "Are you there?" Lewis Black's
voice broke through the static.
"Hello? Hello? Anyone there?
Hello? ... Hello? ... Hello?"
As Jon slowly came to, the
first thing he saw was a big roaring fire surrounded by a circle of vertically
"Ahhhhh ...." Jon groaned,
shaking his head to clear away the confusion. What had happened? And why was
his mouth full of women's panties? Spitting out the thongs, Jon looked around
him. He, Steve and Stephen were each tied to a totem pole.
"Steve! Stephen!" Jon whispered,
nudging each of them with his foot. "Wake up! Come to! Snap out of it!"
"Nancy," Steve whimpered,
his eyes closed and brow furrowed. "I didn't make that mess in the kitchen,
"Oh yeah, baby," Colbert
said, smiling in his stupor. "Shake that ass, honey!"
"WAKE UP!" Jon yelled. The
vertically challenged people jumped and looked at him funny, but he didn't care.
He was tired of taking care of these two wusses. Jon could feel the testosterone
surging through his 5'7" tapdancer's frame.
Steve, who was tied to Jon's
right, and Stephen to Jon's left, snapped awake with a scream and immediately
tried to stand, only to find themselves secured to the totem poles that held
"What happened?" Stephen
asked. "Jon, did they pay for the van?"
"I can't reach my thumb!"
Steve shrieked, sucking on his bottom lip instead.
Jon sighed. "I think they're
some sort of little person club who hate us for some reason. Maybe because we're
taller than they are."
"Jon!" Stephen shrieked,
looking at the thongs Jon had spit out by his side. "Those are ... those thongs
belong to ..."
"KATHIE LEE!" the three
suddenly heard the band of pint sized people say as they scrambled to assume
the proper kneeling position while in her presence.
Our trio looked on in horror
as a figure sitting in a wheel chair, draped in long cloths and wearing a pair
of sunglasses was carried out of a hut by the two biggest and strongest dwarves
of the group. Carrying her over to Jon, Steve and Stephen, they sat her wheelchair/land
transportation barge down carefully in front of the three newscasters, and assumed
standard Kathie Lee Kneeling Position on either side of her.
"There is no woman with
a puppy, there is no woman with a puppy ..." sobbed Colbert.
"WAH!" Steve cried. "Nancy!
I want Nancy!!"
Jon, though trembling in
fear at the site of the disfigured former talk show host, drew all his courage
and testosterone and said loudly, "Hey look it's Marlon Brando from the Island
of Dr. Moreau!"
"You will pay for that,
Stewart!" Kathie Lee growled through her computer aided talking device, because
the horny cats had ripped out her larynx. "Now I have you and tonight you will
And Jon wept.
Meanwhile, Lewis Black,
Matt Walsh, Nancy Walls and Mo Rocca had pulled over once again so Matt could
take a potty break.
"If we have to pull over
ONE more time!" Lewis said, shaking his fiery finger of fury in the air.
"Shhhh, calm down, " Nancy
said. "Steve's the same way, it's just an attention thing. Ignore him and he
won't bother us for the rest of the trip."
"Guys!" Matt said, running
up to them. "Hey guys! Look what I found!"
"Da da dee dee dum," Nancy
said, examining her nails.
"Lewis! Look!" Matt said.
"Oh when the saints, go
marching in," Lewis hummed, looking up at the stars.
"WHY ARE YOU IGNORING ME?"
Matt screamed. "Mo! Look! Come look at this!"
Mo, who had been doing long
division for fun, put down his Texas Instruments Ti-86 calculator and pushed
his glasses up further on his nose. "What? I'm doing important mathematical
calculations, Matt. I'm trying to figure out if I can pay my rent this month."
"Look! I saw this when I
was going by that tree!" Matt said, holding up a dirty, chewed up pacifier.
"OMG!" Nancy screamed, running
over to Matt. "It's Steve's binkie! Show me where you found it!"
"Probably over there," Lewis
said, pointing farther down the road. "Look! It's their van! It's more beat
up than a VW Bug at a demolition derby! Let's go!"
As the four raced down the
street into the night, they were unaware of a shadowy figure in a hand embroidered
fashionable black cloak, following close behind. The figure laughed wickedly
to itself as it munched on tasteful and low fat organic banana chips harvested,
dehydrated and packaged by hand.
The four were headed straight
into her trap.
"It's a good thing ...."
"My God!" Lewis said, his
hands running through his hair. "This car is a WRECK!"
Nancy sat down with a thud.
"Poor Jon and Stephen."
Matt looked at Nancy. "Poor
Jon and Stephen? Why not Steve? Your husband."
Nancy shook her head. "No,
of course, I'm worried about my Steve, but poor Jon and Stephen have to listen
to him whine ... and that incessant thumb sucking ... it's enough to drive me
mad! I mean, our daughter doesn't do it, why must he?!"
Mo sat beside her. "Don't
worry Nance, it's a stage he'll grow out of when the summer solstice is lined
up with ..."
"Will you shut up with your
science muckity muck Mo!" Lewis yelled, investigating the car. "Look at this!
Tiny finger prints! It looks like the work of either tiny children or midgets!"
"Lewis! That's not nice
to say ... midgets ... the correct term is ..." Nancy began.
Lewis snorted. "Nancy, have
you EVER known me to care about being PC?!"
Nancy nodded, holding her
hands up in surrender. "True."
Lewis came over and stood
along side Matt in front of Mo and Nancy and began tapping his foot, thinking.
"Hmm ... midgets ... or children ... this sounds like the work of Ka ..."
Mo stood up. "Don't say
it! Don't even say it!"
"Kathie Lee," Lewis finished,
his eyes flashing at Mo.
Mo sighed, sinking to the
ground again. "He said it!" He whined, taking off his Harry Potter glasses and
Matt shook his head. "But
she's dead! You said it yourself, and even the Enquirer said she was mauled
to death by thousands of horny male cats ...."
"And when does the Enquirer
ever get it right?" Mo mused.
"Oh, God ..." Nancy said,
hanging her head. "Now I'm gonna have to listen to Steve bitch and moan again
about her ..."
"Question is, where did
the Lemon Squares come from?" Lewis said, motioning to the half eaten tasty
treat not far from the van.
"Maybe Jon ..." Matt started.
Before another word was
uttered a huge net came up around the foursome and entrapped them by a pulley
device in the strong Oak tree above them.
"What the hell?!" Lewis
yelled, fire coming out of his nose.
"Hello friends, and how
are we today?" Said a blond who appeared before them dressed in a tasteful white
pants suit with a hand embroidered fashionable black cloak.
Lewis sank to his knees.
"Martha Stewart? Kill me now God, kill me now."
Nancy entertwined her hands
through the net made of green silkwood, the most malleable and easily manipulated
of all silkwoods. "Oh Martha Stewart!" She crooned. "I love you Martha Stewart!
I LIVE by Martha Stewart Living ... that Tasteful Dinner for Five Hungry Hebrews
piece you had in your March '96 issue SAVED mine and Steve's wedding reception!"
Martha smiled a demure smile
and touched Nancy's hand. "I'm glad, it was absolutely delicious wasn't it?"
Lewis glared at Nancy. "Nancy,
did it slip your mind?! Our guys have been kidnapped, and Martha Stewart is
now trapping us in a NET HANGING FROM AN OAK TREE!!!"
Matt raised his hand. "Martha?
What can I use to get a bong water stain out of my carpet?"
Martha winked. "A Hoover
Master 2002 with the built in soap suction set."
Matt nodded. "Thanks, I
tried peanut butter and it just..."
Lewis bitch slapped Matt,
effectively shutting him up. "Why are YOU involved Martha? What made you team
up with the likes of that horrible wenchmaster Kathie Lee?"
Martha lost her smile and
suddenly the four cowered as her normally warm blue eyes turned into cold slits
of ice blue fire. "A common goal."
"What? Why do you hate Jon?
Do you hate Jews?" Nancy asked, finally overcoming her awestruckness.
Martha rolled her eyes.
"I've bedded many a Hebrew, they're quite delicious actually. It's Jon in particular."
"Why? What did he do to
you?" Mo asked.
Martha's eyes slitted again,
and even Lewis Black shuddered. "I would never wear linen underwear with pressed
four-leaf clovers with 'Free Ireland' printed on them. That's just tasteless.
Linen is for fools ..."
Lewis snorted. "You hate
him cause of that chapter in his book called Martha Stewart's Vagina?! Come
on lady, it's called SATIRE."
Martha shook her head. "It's
not that he wrote about me, or even that he wrote about my vagina. It's that
he doesn't know anything about my vagina, and he prejudged it. It would have
been one thing to experience my vagina first hand and write about it later,
cause then it would have been researched, but to have just ... written about
it without any knowledge, just on some pre-conceived notion ..."
"There is no woman with
a puppy, there is no woman with a p...p...p...p...puppy" Jon, Steve, and Stephen
chanted quietly, huddled together with their backs leaning on each other.
Kathie Lee had retired to
inside her hut and the three watched horrified as the vertically challenged
army chanted Kathie Lee's praises, some breaking out into chorus' from her Caribbean
"Hey!" Stephen whispered
loudly to the nearest one. "Hey, uh ... little guy!"
The aforementioned little
guy stopped his fox trot and stomped over. "What do you want bitch?"
Stephen laughed. "Come on
little guy! No need for such language! We're cool ..." He took a deep breath.
"What's your name?"
The vertically challenged
dude thought for a moment. "That is of no concern ..."
Jon tried to smile, failing
miserably. "Come on man, we just wanna know your name. For posterities sake.
So when we're dead we'll know WHO TO TELL GOD TO PUNISH!"
Stephen sighed. "So much
for winning him over."
The little dude smirked
at Jon. "You won't be talking to God, you're Jewish."
Jon rolled his eyes. "Here
we go again ..."
Stephen winked at the little
dude and motioned for him to come closer. "Yeah, little guy, you got that right,
he's going to hell. He's Jewish ... you and me, heaven baby ... come on, seriously,
come mere!" He said, pleasantly.
Jon looked at Stephen. "I
had no idea you felt that way man ... that hurts ...."
But the little guy took
a liking to Stephen, and his coaxing tone, and came closer to him. "Alright,
man, maybe you're alright ... my name's Maurice."
Stephen nodded, smiling
evilly. "Great, good, super ..." He said, suddenly shifting and kicking Maurice
ten feet back and into the burning inferno that was their campfire. "Christ
on a CRACKER was that fun!" He said, cackling.
Steve laughed, relieved.
"Dude, Stephen, I thought you were serious about that hell stuff with Jon ..."
Jon nodded. "Me too."
"Aw, come on Jon!!!" Stephen
said, tapping Jon's leg with his tied up hands. "Never! Bagels and cream cheese
are just WAY too good to be the devil's food ...."
"Dilute club soda with a
bit of baking powder and lemon, then pour it into a spray bottle. We bought
this spray bottle from Macy's Home Department for $45, but they're generally
available in your local craft store, or Martha by mail ..."
"Uh huh ... go on," Nancy
said, taking notes on her arm.
"Jesus CHRIST!" Lewis said,
pounding his head against the net.
"Actually Martha," Mo said,
adjusting his glasses. "According to T1-86 here, it's not cost effective to
buy a spray bottle from Macy's. According to my electronic pocket almanac, they
cost approimately 13 cents to make, and Macy's only sells them at that price
as a ploy to increase their revenue."
Martha nodded. "And we sell
them at a cost of $50 as a ploy to increase OUR revenue. Martha by Mail handcarves
every spray bottle out of 100% pure plastic hand engineered by the scientists
who graduated from Ivy League schools and whose mother's ALWAYS packed their
lunch with the freshest sandwiches made from pure ..."
"ENOUGH!" Lewis yelled.
"Just kill us already! Oh just let me DIE!"
Martha pulled out her antique
watch and checked the time. "Well, it IS almost time for the ceremony. My work
here is done. Now it's time to get to the Sacrifice Stewart party." Martha pulled
out a tin of homemade cookies. "It's always proper to bring a gift when invited
to a blood sacrifice. I've packed this vintage cookie tin with our delicious
lemon spice cookies, made with organically grown lemon and spices from my own
garden. The card is made from my own hand made stationary, dyed with the crushed
petals of my home grown flowers, and engraved with the ink from my pet octopus,
Martha pulled another box
from the silk lined pockets of her cloak and placed it by the net holding the
four correspondents. "How rude of me! I almost forgot to leave a parting gift!
How barbaric! When kidnapping and restraining, it is ALWAYS proper to leave
a parting gift. This box was handmade by natives from the island of Berubi ..."
"JUST LEAVE!" Lewis shouted.
"Leave before I try to spit on you!"
Smiling politely, Martha
curtsied and took off into the woods saying, "It was nice to have kidnapped
"Bye Martha!" Mo, Nancy
and Matt said cheerfully.
"I am SO glad Martha gave
me this stain remover recipe," Nancy said, examining her arm. "Now I can get
all those Hi-C stains out of the couch that Steve always leaves."
"For Christ's sakes!" Lewis
shouted, his hands waving at the heavens. "I am surrounded by insane people!
God, if you're there, please strike me now!"
Suddenly, the branch holding
the tasteful net broke, causing it to fall to the ground and freeing our four
"Wow!" Matt said, getting
up and dusting himself off. "I gotta start saying my prayers!"
"That wasn't God you nimrod,
look!" Lewis shouted, pointing to the tree, "It's our second dolly grip, Mark!"
Used to riding above the
ground getting aerial shots, Mark had taken to the trees upon hearing Jon's
original radio SOS message, and had waited until Martha left to free the four
"Thanks, Mark!" Lewis said,
"You guys, look!" Nancy
said, examining the little box Martha had placed before them before leaving.
"Look what this note says!"
"Follow the trail of macadamia
nuts or you'll never see Jon alive again!" Matt read.
"P.S. These nuts were gathered
by native Hawaiians on the shores of beautiful Oahu Island ..." Mo read. "Man,
what a woman! Such a perfectionist!"
"Shut up!" Lewis said, pointing
the famous fiery finger of fury. "No one say a word. We're going to follow these
nuts, find Jon and possibly kick some ass, ok? Just follow me ... and NOT A
"I have to goooo," Matt
whined as he padded behind Nancy, Mo, and Lewis into the dark Jersey woods.
Meanwhile, Jon, Steve and
Stephen were having a terribly good time luring midgets over to them, waiting
until they were within kicking distance and sending them hurdling towards the
fire to their doom. You'd think the others would notice, but apparently they
were worked up into such a Kathie Lee Worship frenzy that they hadn't noticed
their numbers were dwindling.
"Man!" Jon said, laughing
so hard tears streamed down his cheeks. "I don't know when I last had this much
fun with a midget."
"Alright," Colbert said.
"Midget on the far right, corner pocket of the bonfire, ready? Oh MIIIIIIDGEEETTT!"
"Silence!" Kathie Lee's
voice projected from the darkness. It projected because she had speakers hooked
up to her computer aided speech device and had had them positioned all around
the camp. "It's time to start the ritual!"
"HELP!" Jon screamed as
ten midgets advanced on him and began to strip him naked. "Oh God no! Jesus
this is SICK! Down Midgets, DOWN!"
But Jon's pleas were no
use, for soon the midgets had stripped his clothes off and tied him to a hand
carved mahogany table. Jon trembled as four of the little people carried over
a shiny silver steak knife.
"Nooo!" Carell said, struggling
with the ropes that bound him. "Don't kill Jonny! I like him! He's my friend!"
"Man! Jon wasn't kidding
about being hairy!" Colbert mused.
Just as Jon had braced himself
for the first whack of the knife, a shadow loomed over him and the teeny ones
immediately dropped into another worshipful stance.
Sensing a presence, Jon
opened one eye, then another. What he saw horrified him beyond belief. Standing
in front of him, dressed in a hand sewn tribal sacrificial bikini, was Martha
"OH GOD NO!!" Jon said,
struggling to free himself. But it was useless. The ropes that held him were
made from the strongest fibers and hand braided by traditional native rope braiders.
"NOOOO! PLEASE!!" Jon pleaded, banging his head against the table and trying
desperately to get the sight of Martha Stewart in a bikini out of his head.
"My friend," Colbert said,
turning to Steve. "That is one ugly ho."
"Now," Martha Stewart said,
eying Jon's naked body. "I shall have my revenge!"
Jon's naked skin gleamed
in the light
Cast by the fire's flickering flame.
The little ones scattered and screamed and spat
Whilst growling and giggling and grinding their teeth.
Martha Majestic, menacing
Hovered with hostile, horrible hate.
Her eyes glowed like Lewis', brighter and bolder
With feminine fury and feline fire.
Her nails dripped with blood into blossomy bowls
Shaped like tulips tender from the springtime sun.
Loving formed from petals of pansies
Carefully plucked with tweezers of gold.
(These bowls can be bought by 'net or by mail
If you go to MarthaStewart.com.)
Martha Majestic ripped off
To expose the mechanics lying beneath!
"Oh my God! She's a robot!" the little ones shrieked.
The gears and the levers pulsed and purred
And the little ones fled with fantastic fear.
The Robot Stewart approached
And Jon stared with fright as he felt through his clothes
A packet of ketchup leftover from lunch
From a burger with fries and large Cherry Coke.
"Take that!" he shouted
and pulled out the condiment
And spurted the scarlet salty goo
All over the Robot's clean crisp Keds.
Jon, actor, comedian, talk
Martha Stewart, living
Stephen Colbert, sorry bastard
Steve Carell, his child like companion
Nancy Walls, wife to Steve
Lewis Black, angry man
Mo Rocca, Harry Potter's geeky older brother
Matt Walsh, small in bladder, big in heart
Kathie Lee Gifford, disfigured eater of puppies
Craig Kilborn, smarmy shithead
Scene: a deserted beach,
bonfire, sacrifice in progress
Enter Jon and Martha Stewart
And now I shall have my revenge on thou!
Thou who cast shame on the house of my vagina
Tarnishing the jewel of my existence
And making a mockery of my tasteful decor.
I didst not mean harm to my lady's jewel!
I am but a poor wandering comedian
Seeking the fruits of my labor in the
Happiness that permeates a child's laugh!
it so wrong to want to entertain?
To while away the hours bringing joy
Into the house of my neighbor and
Making all frowns turn upside down?
Tis a noble cause for a hairy man
Such as the one splayed before me.
But not as noble as bringing taste and elegance
Into the homes of those who know not.
Cowards die many times before their death, my friend
The valiant only taste of death but once.
Of all the headlines that I yet have heard
None match the horror or sorrows of tonight.
What are you frigging talking about?
(raising knife above head)
And now I bidst thou goodnight as I raise
This happy dagger above my blonde head
So that is shines like a light in the pale
Moon above. O rise envious moon and
Light this festive occasion with your
Pure and naturally made moonbeams of death
As I send this poor comic to meet his maker.
Nancy [enters] from side
Steve! Anon good Steve. You hath no wounds!
Nancy! Oh how my heart has yearned for this
Blessed moment of our reunion!
Lewis [enters] from same
path, followed by Mo and Matt
Who dareth interrupt our summer event
With malicious schemes to destroy our
Lives faster than Bush can make an error
Of the grammatical persuasion?
Methinks the clothe'd one in the distance
Acted as the catalyst that pushed us
Onto this beach of doom where we shall
Soon partake in a battle for our lives.
Unbeknownst to me, I must again
Answer the call that nature so mercilessly
Tortures me with both day and night until
I am a slave to the kidneys that sustain me.
Kathie Lee Gifford [enters]
caried in her wheelchair by several MIDGETS
What keeps the blood from spilling on this wondrous
Night? I see a whole man before me when
It is his broken and bloodied body that keeps me
Alive with the fire to eternally
Embrace life in my disfigured state.
My minions of wee people shall soon take
Care of our tresspassers and do unto them
The same as those who tresspass against us.
Or something like that, I confuse easily.
Do I not get a plea for my continued
Existence? Why must I be forced
To be dead when it is thou who enjoys
Feasting on the chewy goodness of canine youth?
thou ever ask why thou finds
Such a disgusting and brutal eating
Habit in good spirits with thou self?
Well didst thou? DIDST THOU??
Why is that I find such symbols of
All that is good and right with the world
The bane of my physical existence?
Is it that I am an evil woman
Who takes pleasure in taking the pleasure
From those around her, hogging all the
Attention and glee for my own selfish
Desires? O why do I persist in
Making others miserable just so
I can feel better about myself? Why?
know now more than ever that the
Truth lies in the potentcy of my evil,
And my horrible childhood. MARTHA!
Slice into him like one of those nice hams
You prepare in the glory of springtime!
(relieving himself on bonfire)
Be gone from me O urine of torture!
The light goes out from
the campsite, casting the players in shadows. Chaos breaks out as
the MIDGETS run in fear, irked by the darkness that surrounds them. CRAIG [enters]
a bottle of hairspray.
It is with this bottle that sprays the magic
Liquid that holds my hair in place, that I
Shall exact my agenda on the one
They call the domestic diva, the
The Queen of cuisine and the herald of
Housekeeping. Tonight I shall ascend to my
Rightful place as host of The Daily Show.
Again I shall emit giggles and snorts
With my low key charm and piercing blue eyes.
Again it shall be my voice that proclaims
HEADLINES to the heavens each weekday night.
Craig [sprays] the bottle
of hairspray on Martha's hair, amid the chaos. Screaming, she
drops onto the table that holds Jon and lays there breathing heavily.
Death creeps up on me like a shadow at
My bedroom window. The spray with which
I have been violated was not organic in nature.
The chemicals creep into my body
Poisoning my soul and claiming my life.
Martha [reaches] out towards
am your mother.
Martha [makes a fist] towards
the smirking Craig.
tu Kilby? Now falleth Martha!
(being untied by Nancy and others, along with Stephen)
That cease'd to be in the style of
Iambic pentameter, my weeping friend.
The curtain closes on our
players as the CHORUS [enters].
Our heroes true have yet to deal with
Kathie Lee and her wheels of steel.
Yet a tremendous hurdle hath been
Crossed, with the demise of Martha
whose teeth were always flossed.
Danger is still in the air, though
For the TDS Crew and their Jon-eo.
[Edgar Allen Poe's
"The Bells" style as told from Jon's point of view]
Hear the chanting of the
A million midgets!
What a sick world of torment their melody foretells!
How they stomp, stomp, stomp,
By the bonfire this night!
While the stars that overshadow
All the heavens, damn them that twinkle
Belying my fright, on this horrific night;
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Cherubic rhyme,
To the abomination that so musically spills
From the midgets, midgets, midgets, midgets,
midgets, midgets, midgets-
From the stomping and chanting of the midgets.
Hear the cackle of the wheel-chaired wench,
The puppy eating wench!
What a world of evil horridness her laughter foretells!
Through the dense summer air of night
How my bones ache in fright!
From the shrilling-killing notes,
And out of tune,
What a beastly ditty floats
To the hotting-owl that listens, while she cackles
In the trees!
Oh, from out the mechanical vocal chords,
What a gush of cacophonous voluminously wells!
How it swells!
How it dwells
On the Future! How it tells
Of the horror that heads
To the stomping and the chanting
Of the midgets, midgets, midgets,
Of the midgets, midgets, midgets, midgets,
midgets, midgets, midgets-
To the stomping and the chanting of the midgets!
Hear the smarm spew forth-
What a perfect face, no sense of underlying woes!
In the startled air of night
How he sprays the spray of stiff hair, dark or light!
Too much mist to speak,
I can only cough, cough,
Out of need for air,
In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the gods,
In a mad plea with the mercy of aforementioned god,
Whimpering higher, higher, higher,
With a desperate desire,
And a resolute endeavor,
Now to shit or never,
By the side of the pear-shaped tree.
Oh, the midgets, midget, midgets!
What a tale their chants tells
Of Evil Intent!
How they stamp, and chant, and more!
What a dreadfulness they outpour
On the evening of the midnight air!
Yet the fear I fully know,
By the singing,
And the chanting,
How the danger ebbs and flows:
Yet the ear distinctly tells,
In the jangling,
And the wrangling,
How the danger sinks and swells,
By the sinking or the swelling in the anger of the midgets-
Of the midgets-
Of the midgets, midgets, midgets, midgets,
midgets, midgets, midgets-
In the stomping and the chanting of the midgets!
Hear the chanting of the midgets-
A million midgets!!
What a world of solemn thought their monody compels!
In the dead of the night,
How we shiver with affright
At the melancholy menace of their tone!
For every sound that floats
From the rust within their throats
Is a groan.
And the midgets, ah, the midgets-
They that dwell up in the fray,
And who, tolling, tolling, tolling,
In that muffled monotone,
Feel a glory in so rolling
On the human heart a stone-
They are neither man nor woman-
They are neither brute nor human-
They are Ghouls:
And their Queen it is who tolls;
And she rolls, rolls, rolls,
Her wheelchair over to the midgets!
And her sick, twisted bosom swells
With the chanting of the midgets!
And she dances (as one can in a wheelchair), and she yells;
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Cherubic rhyme,
To the chanting of the midgets-
Of the midgets:
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Cherubic rhyme,
To the crowing of the midgets-
Of the midgets, midgets, midgets-
To the crooning of the midgets;
Keeping time, time, time,
As she cackles, cackles, cackles,
In a happy Runic rhyme,
To the warbling of the midgets-
Of the midgets, midgets, midgets:
To the serenading of the midgets,
Of the midgets, midgets, midgets, midgets-
midgets, midgets, midgets-
To the stomping and the chanting of the midgets.
[Bridget Jones' Diary style,
from Jon's point of view]
Jewey Jewman's Diary
Tuesday, June 10, 2002
Calories: none, as have been held prisoner by ravenous puppy eating whore
Alcohol units: 12, needed to calm self from nearly being sawed in two by aforementioned
whore and accompanying band of cackling dwarves.
Right. Finally freed from Vile Kathie today. Once Martha had collapsed on table,
a trail of bright red blood trickling down her open yet still smiling mouth,
the midgets fled in horror. Vile Kathie, finding herself Martha-less, Midget-less
and with a smary shithead pointing a deadly bottle of AquaNet in her general
direction, fled on her wheelchair which apparently had come with a gas engine
installed. Have not seen her since.
Was untied by Lewis who
made nasty comments about lack of sizable genitalia. Upon getting dressed, helped
to secure Kilborn with the help of Steve, Matt and Stephen. Steve was relieved
to see Nancy again who returned his binkie to his mouth and sent him on his
way with a playful smack to the rear. Matt put out the smoking fire by once
again pissing on it, and Lewis built another fire just by looking at a pile
of logs in an angry fashion. Mo, who we have nicknamed the Professor, somehow
turned Vile Kathie's computer aided electronic talking device into a primitive
radio and we were able to catch the last half of the Yankees game, which was
Have set up former sacrificial/hideout/abandoned
beach as place to hold summer spectacular. Found remaining crew cowering in
nearby cave and dragged them to new camp location. Once they had been given
some beer and hot dogs they were fine and happily went above fooling with the
electrical equipment like always.
Right. Am just going to
have one more beer, then off to set up tent with Steve and Stephen.
Oooh! Crew members have brought the TV.
Will set up tent after America's Funniest Animals.
Just one more beer.
Tried to set up tent with Steve and Stephen. Have learned they know absolutely
nothing about camping. If Stephen wasn't making lewd gestures with the tent
poles, Steve was throwing sand and generally getting on everyone's nerves. Nancy
sent him to bed with no supper and said he would be better behaved tomorrow.
Finally got tent set up. Am sharing it with Stephen who keeps talking about
"Gonad Grace" in his sleep. Am creeped out. Also think can hear sounds of Nancy
and Steve snogging in next tent over, but it could just be the sounds Mo makes
when reading his calculus book.
Was almost killed by midgets
and Vile Kathie today. Am exhausted.
Wednesday, June 11., 2002
163 pounds (Why! WHY???)
Calories: 13000 (but beer will be gone by tomorrow)
Alcohol units: 6
Awoke to sound of Kilborn
shouting "And now here it is, your moment of Zen" in sleep. Gave him drink of
water and stuffed thong in his mouth. Waiting to see how long it takes him to
realize said thongs were dirty.
Stephen had nightmare in
the middle of the night about Vile Kathie. Said she's coming back for us. Comforted
him until Lewis caught us embracing in privacy of tent. Have endured biting
comments all morning.
Cast and crew DO think something
weird is going on. Nancy said Steve behaved last night without even being told
to. She said he only does that in expectance of Santa at Christmas or when she
has PMS. Neither are applicable today.
Watched Live with Regis
and Kelly on TV this morning. Was v. good. Wish Regis was my dad and Martha
Stewart not my mother. Had beer to console self.
Just finished taping segment
for summer spectacular. This consisted of Mo building M.C. Escher type structures
in the sand and Steve kicking them over. Then Mo chasing Steve, followed by
Stephen tripping Mo and laughing at him. This went on for a while until Lewis
got fed up and held Steve's head under water for five minutes. Nancy got mad
but Lewis said it wouldn't hurt him because he already has brain damage.
Right. Am just going to
write new Headlines segment for tomorrow's show but first must watch Newshour.
Newshour was v. good tonight.
However, upon finishing up watching and downing the last of a beer, heard shouting
from far corner of the beach. Kilborn had eaten through his ropes and escaped
into the forest. Crew is v. scared now, most have retreated back to city. Just
Nancy, Steve, Stephen and Lewis here now.
Christ! What was that noise?
Oh, only flatulence.
Shit! Vile Kathie and Kilborn have returned with remaining loyal midgets. Why?
Why?? Am sick of their smugness, have challenged them to game of beach volleyball.
Are sure to win as Vile Kathie is in wheel chair, although she does have quite
a few midgets. Game is scheduled to begin tomorrow. Will possibly lose weight
with this, am happy.
Damn Stephen, what does
he do when he's not at work? Judging from what he talks about in his sleep,
some kind of farm run by big breasted norwegian women. Hmmm ... think want to
know where this farm is. Will ask him in the morning.
Added May 1, 2002.
Complied by Kelly.