Original subtitles

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MAURICE: Roses are red, Violets are blue,

The most talented host...

is me and not you.

What d'ya think you're up to now?

I'm reading from my book of poetry.

You wrote a poetry book?

Yes, I did.

And you think somebody's gonna publish it?

I'm waiting for a call from a publisher.

You know how long you're gonna have to wait for that call?

Forever! That's how long!

A challenge from you I do not fear,

Because you and I no one can com...

com... com...

No one can com-peer?

This is a true story.

It happened to a friend of a friend of mine...

Well, actually he wasn't really a friend -

more like a tormentor.

His name was Bruno.

He was the only kid in Miss Shmendrick's Second Grade

class who shaved.

He had more hair on his upper lip than I have

on my entire body.

When he walked, his knuckles dragged on the ground.

And watching him eat was like being in the midst -

but 'scuse me, I digress...

Bruno had two great loves.

His first, was torturing me.

Every morning on the way to class,

he would snatch my glasses and fling them

into the girls' washroom.

At lunchtime he would force-feed me my

tuna sandwich.

And after school there was the daily puddle dunk.

My therapist says that I have "issues" with Bruno.

But enough about me, let's talk about him.

Because, you see -- Bruno's other great love was -

The Circus.

Once a month there was a Circus on TV - the high-wire

aerialists, the strongmen and the inevitable elephant

dancing a mambo.

Finally, they would get to what for Bruno

was the main event.

The house lights dimmed and Congo drums filled the air...

The Ringmaster told a tale of jungle explorers

and their quest to capture the most evil,

the most feared - the most dangerous predator of all...

The Rogue Gorilla!

A group of burly stevedores would come out carrying

a large cage with a Gorilla inside.

Now, you know, we may have been in the Second Grade

but we weren't stupid.

Everyone knew it was a man in a Gorilla suit.

Everyone... but Bruno.

He never quite got it.

Y'see, whenever the Circus was on TV,

the Gorilla act went EXACTLY like this...

The Ringmaster would tell us how dangerous this Gorilla

was - and within two seconds,

it would escape from its cage.

The Gorilla would roam around terrorizing people.

But the strange thing was it was always

the same people.

First, the Gorilla would find a lady in a

polka-dotted dress.

He'd grab her.

She'd scream and run - and her dress would come off

in his hands.

Now the thing that I found suspect was that her

undergarments were strangely similar to my Aunt Helen's.

And in my entire life, I've only known two women who

wore that brand of underwear: Aunt Helen and

the circus lady.

Then the Gorilla would find a man wearing a hat.

He'd pull off the hat and rub the guy's bald head.

And well that was the act.

Then the Gorilla would get back to his cage and they'd

carry him away.

Now, if I were a fearsome king of the jungle - I would

at least visit the concession stand for some

caramel corn, or maybe ask a pretty stenographer

out for coffee.

But, but you know, in our deepest heart of hearts we

secretly wished it was real.

And one day our wishes came true...

The day the circus came to town!

We were abuzz with excitement.

All Bruno could talk about was the Gorilla.

And how - in the event that it escaped captivity again -

he was prepared to wrestle it into submission.

Greco-Roman style.

Bruno never grasped the fact that this was a mere

Gorilla forgery.

Needless to say, that night the Gardens were packed.

I saw Bruno with his mother as they crept to their seats

in the nosebleed section.

Finally, the main event...

The Ringmaster announced the Gorilla Act.

The house lights dimmed and the Congo drums,

they Congo'd.

And then stevedores brought the cage out as the

Ringmaster described how fearsome

and dangerous it was.

Then like clockwork, the cage door swings open!

The Gorilla rummaged around in the audience until he

found the lady in the polka dot dress.

She screams.

He grabbed - and she ran off in my Aunt Helen's

underwear.

You could hear Bruno laughing all the way from

his perch in the nosebleed section -

but then the laughter stopped.

The Gorilla was supposed to get back in his cage.

But NO.!

He was coming through the stands -

closer and closer to Bruno!

He tried to scream - but it caught in his throat.

He tried to run - but his Mother grabbed hold of him.

She didn't want to chase him all over the Gardens.

The Gorilla reared up right in front of him.

It screamed and beat its chest.

Bruno screamed - then fainted into the soggy

popcorn and soda under his seat.

He missed the end of the show.

Then the Gorilla went back to the cage and a pretty

girl took off its mask.

And the Circus Strongman was inside the Gorilla suit.

The audience cheered while Bruno's mom dragged him down

to the subway - and home.

This is a true story.

It happened to a friend of a friend of mine.

And the funny thing is, from that time on Bruno never

bothered me again.

You see, I discovered a secret weapon to use

against him.

Some people want to be in the ballet,

And dance upon their toes.

I want to be an elephant,

And squirt water through my nose.

We'll take care of him, right after this Freaky Story.

This is a true story.

It happened to a friend of a friend of mine...

three years ago when we were in high school together.

Duane was a total dufus.

His mom was a judge, his dad was a university professor.

His twelve year old sister was in the "advanced" class...

a certified, actual genius.

And Duane...

let's just say he was a long-haired,

nose-pierced numskull.

His brain was a total waste of the electrical impulses

it takes to run a brain.

But the weird thing is, Duane aced every exam

he ever took.

Duane made it all the way through high school like he

had no clue what was going on in any class.

When the teacher would ask, "Who knows the answer?"

Duane would hide behind his book.

When he had to go up to the blackboard to do a math

problem, he'd claim his finger was broken,

so he couldn't hold the chalk.

But when it came to the mid-term or final exam,

Duane got an A.

Oh sure, everyone thought Duane was cheating.

By the time he reached his senior year,

he was thoroughly searched before he'd enter

the exam room.

No crib notes were ever found.

His arms and legs were examined for written answers.

Even the bottom of his feet were free and clear...

except, of course, for the toe rings and the

one-little-piggie, two-little-piggie tattoos.

Okay. So it was the last final high school exam Duane

would ever have to take.

English was the subject and Miss Steinmeister was the

teacher, the toughest teacher in the school.

Maybe in the whole country.

Steinmeister means stern master.

No one was more stern that this old battle-axe.

And on the day of the final exam,

she was so stern she radiated an aura of

"You mess with me, I'll rip your head off!"

You see, Miss Steinmeister had just come from having

extensive, painful dental work done on her stern teeth.

I mean, that day, she was like a pit bull

with a migraine.

One girl asked if she could hold her hankie during the

exam because she had this terrible running nose.

Miss Steinmeister barked at her so furiously,

the girl's nose was afraid to run.

So the exam begins.

The students open up their test books,

take one look at the test and there's a group moan.

The questions are the hardest they've ever seen.

Sweat began to roll down the brows of all the students.

All the students except Duane.

He got right into it.

Answering one question after the other.

He'd look at the question, take a minute to think about it,

then write down the answer.

And then the next question, and the next.

Without missing a beat, Duane was acing this test

just like he did all the others.

At least that's how it looked.

But here's what was really going on.

That's right.

Duane had a teeny tiny camera...

you know, the kind you can buy in one of those

security/spy shops.

He'd pretend to think while the camera transmitted

the question to...

Mary Margaret...

who would transmit the answers to...Duane.

Even when Miss Steinmeister would stand

next to Duane and glower at him suspiciously,

she had no clue how this nincompoop

was answering the questions.

She could do nothing more than gape in total amazement

when Duane got to the question she put on the test

for the express purpose of stumping Duane.

But suddenly, Miss Steinmeister perked up.

Like a dog -- I told you she resembled a pit bull --

who is hearing something only a dog can hear.

But this dog... I mean teacher...

started to wander around the room like she was in some

kind of trance.

It was a totally weird sight to see.

Miss Steinmeister wandered up and down the aisles,

then would suddenly stop and wander off

in another direction.

She finally came to stop right at Duane's desk,

pulled the pen out of his hand,

pointed it at her face and said,

"Gotcha!" Then she held out her hand.

Duane tried to play dumb...

not a stretch for Duane.

But Miss Steinmeister just stood there,

it seemed like forever.

And Duane finally folded.

He took out his mini ear piece and dropped it in

Miss Steinmeister's palm.

Duane didn't have to speak.

The totally confused look on his face...

more totally confused than usual,

asked the question, How did you know?

Miss Steinmeister leaned over,

opened her mouth next to Duane's ear.

And he could hear Mary Margaret saying,

"Duane? What's going on?

Did the pit bull catch you?"

That's right.

Miss Steinmeister was receiving the transmission

from Duane's sister on the extensive dental work

she just had done.

This is a true story.

It happened to a friend of a friend of mine.

Duane had to start high school all over.

And now, when he takes an exam,

he's surrounded by a static field to prevent any

transmission of answers.

Oh yeah, Duane's a freshman again.

He's been one for three years now.

Let's give the guy a hand!

I had a bunny named Nigel.

He had soft fluffy fur.

I have got sixteen now.

I guess he was a her.

This is a true story.

It happened to a friend of a friend of mine. Sam.

Her actual name was Samantha.

And she was a friend back when we both were ten.

I liked Samantha because she was always

full of surprises.

She was "different".

I mean, in a lot of ways she was regular,

but in some ways she was really, really...

"different".

Like when the new kid moved in next door to her.

Devlin was his name.

Nasty little guy.

When Samantha would go out on her bike,

Devlin would zip by on his skateboard.

Real close.

So Samantha would get startled and swerve and bump

into a tree or something, and fall.

And what would Samantha do?

Nothing.

She didn't run home crying.

Didn't tell Devlin's mother.

Like I said, she was "different".

And when Devlin had one of his nasty pals at his house,

Devlin would swipe something of Samantha's,

like her hat, or her scarf.

And then Devlin and his pal would play Monkey

in the Middle.

You know, they'd toss it back and forth while

Samantha would make pitiful attempts at grabbing it.

And Devlin thought that was hysterical.

He'd laugh and tease and act like a jerk.

Still, Samantha did nothing.

It could have been a good strategy,

if Devlin was a regular kid and just gave up when he

didn't get Samantha's goat or make her cry.

But no.

Devlin kept being annoying.

And Samantha kept doing nothing.

But everybody has a limit of how much they can take.

And Devlin pushed Samantha past that limit the day he

went after Samantha's cat with a water gun.

Samantha went ballistic.

It was time to get even.

Which was not too much of a challenge for Samantha,

since she was a witch.

Samantha, went into her witch mode, conjured up a bolt of

lightning and sent it... ZAP!

Right toward Devlin's house.

And ZAP!

It came right back at her.

She thought it must have hit something.

Maybe Devlin's house had aluminum siding.

No problem.

Samantha was way more than a one-trick witch.

Samantha flipped through witch books,

found a recipe for fire balls and before you could

say, "Trouble, trouble, boil and bubble,

she had a fire ball the size of a Buick.

With all her might, she hurled it at Devlin's house.

And what came back at Samantha

was a huge torrent of water.

It doused the fire ball and nearly drowned Samantha.

She figured someone must have been watering the lawn

or washing the car.

Whatever.

Samantha had a whole bunch of witch books

full of tricks.

And it was time to pull out some of the really scary

stuff...actually, the scariest of all the big snakes.

Snakes always work.

Even small ones can be scary.

But the one Samantha conjured up was a monster.

A mega-snake.

So over goes the giant snake, slithering across the yard.

Samantha sat back and waited for Devlin's

pitiful scream...

which never came.

What did come was her giant snake...

in a panic.

And no wonder.

Right behind the snake was a great big saber tooth tiger.

That giant jungle cat chased the snake across Samantha's

yard, crashing through the fence,

disappearing down the street.

Well, she had to find out what was going on.

So that night, when she was sure everyone in

Devlin's house would be asleep,

she snuck across the yard.

She crept up to the window of Devlin's room and peeked in.

No one was in the room.

Then Samantha smelled something.

Something familiar.

She couldn't quite figure out what it was.

It was just... familiar.

Familiar in a nice way.

Like when a boy remembers exactly where he was when he

smelled his first pizza.

Suddenly it hit her.

It was the smell of school.

Witch school.

Boiling gnats' wings and powdered bat nails.

All that magic potion stuff she knew so well.

In Devlin's house?

"Hi", said Devlin, suddenly standing

right behind Samantha.

"How did you get here?" she asked

even though she already knew the answer.

Devlin was a warlock.

This was a true story.

It happened to a friend of a friend of mine.

Samantha.

She got to know Devlin. Got to like him.

Eventually married him.

And they had a child, who could be

YOUR next door neighbor.

Beneath the spreading chestnut tree,

The village smithy stands.

The smith a mighty man is he,

With large and sinewy hands.

He goes to church each Sunday

He sits down in his pew.

His friends come and sit next to him,

And say, "Does that PEE-UWW belong to you?"

[phone rings]

That must be my publisher.

Tsk. Poor guy.

I hate to be here when he comes back

all sad and disappointed.

That was him! They're going to publish my poems!

I have to go take a meeting.

I mean, do lunch...

Hey! What's gonna happen here?

Well, I'll have my people call your people.

This is a true story.

It happened to a friend of a friend of mine...

Thomas and James were a couple of old timers.

They spent their retirement years running a tourist boat

on historic Loch Ness.

Their sailboat, The Nessie II had seen better days

but she was still a fine seaworthy craft.

It was past the tourist season and Thomas and James

were just about to get Nessie ready for the winter

when a new customer turned up at the docks.

She was a college student, her name was Heather.

And she was looking for an inexpensive boat and crew

so she could do research for her masters thesis.

Well, they knew they had a live one here.

She had lots of books and gear - probably be able to

provide them with the nest egg they'd need

to tide them over the winter.

They agreed on a price, then the two old salts proceeded

to help Heather load her gear aboard Nessie II.

Although it was late in the season,

a warm breeze gently pushed the little boat on its way,

out into the Loch.

"Ye wouldn't be looking for the Monster, now. Would ye?"

asked Thomas who loved monster lore.

It seems that Heather was a Marine Biology student

searching for evidence to either prove or disprove

the monster's existence.

Well, James and Thomas had a field day,

telling tall sea tales about boogie-men and monsters

until the wee small hours of the morning...

It was late at night and Heather was finally alone

with her equipment.

"Hrrrmph", she thought, "Two old salts and their

fish-tales."

So, Heather was alone on deck,

playing solitaire and enjoying the still night air.

The water was smooth as glass with nary a ripple and

a low fog hung over the loch.

She had just started to play a new hand

when something 'blipped'.

Heather glanced over at a flashing light

on the sensor array.

There was something in the water.

She flicked a switch on the monitor.

"Probably a sunken log", she thought.

They floated up from the bottom all the time.

She glanced into the still water as she flipped another

switch, muting the speaker.

Just then the log broke the surface of the lake.

"Aaah. Just as I thought".

Down, below, Thomas and James slept the sleep

of angels...

A few minutes later, something went 'bleep' again.

Heather looked over at the sonar array.

She was sure it must be one of those old codgers down

below trying to put a scare into her.

She'd just settled back in her seat when the array

lit up like Christmas Eve.

Heather leapt to the console.

She switched on the fish finder.

There was something on the screen.

Something big!

And it was coming up FAST!

She heard a bubbling sound.

She looked over the side.

The water was foaming all 'round the boat -

and it was starting to glow!

Then there was a titanic CRASH.

They'd hit something - or something hit them!

James and Thomas were pitched from their bunks

and stumbled through the darkened cabin.

Nessie II was listing.

She was flooding with water.

They scrambled up the ladder onto the deck.

Thomas hit the switch, flipping on the mast spotlights.

The boat was going down!

They'd hit something all right.

But the boat was still anchored,

the water calm and there are no submerged rocks in the

middle of Loch Ness.

They found her clinging to the mast,

water swirling about her feet.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE, GIRLIE!?!"

screamed Thomas.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO OUR BOAT!?!"

yelled James.

But she clung to the mast - white as a ghost.

"Lassie! You okay?"

But she just gasped and fainted onto the deck.

They rushed over to help her.

Thomas turned to get the first aid kit.

Then he froze.

"Laddie... You'd better see this..."

Slowly, James turned 'round to see what Thomas meant.

There was a moment of silence while it all sunk in.

A bite was missing out from the boat's stern -

a bite about 6 feet wide.

This is a true story.

It happened to a friend of a friend of mine.

And Heather's still searching Loch Ness.

But now she pays attention to the old stories,

and she never... ever... takes the night shift.

There once was a Maggot, Maurice.

Hauled off to the jail by police.

The cops' stomach all soured,

When Maurice devoured [INHALE]

Smelly Tuna, stink sludge, drain crust, rotten grapes,

decayed prunes, moldy bread, curdled cream and old garbage

[INHALE] all covered with grease.

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