The Great Rock Music Massacree

The Adventures of Politically Correct Man!

Narrator: Deep in the uncharted bowels of the White House, a lone Secret Service agent sits at a desk playing mumbledy peg. His once promising career is down the tubes for referring to himself as a colored person instead of a person of color. Agent Washington is now permanently stationed at one of the most important, least understood, and mind-numbingly boring jobs in the Free World.

A light flashes. A buzzer buzzes. Agent Washington tosses the knife up, presses a button until the light darkens and the buzzer hushes, and deftly catches the knife by the blade. Meanwhile back in the Oval Office... the bullet-proof picture window opens in response to Agent' Washington's button, Politically Correct Man leaps through the window, and falls into the rose bushes below. Instantly surrounded by Secret Service agents aiming their Glock 18s at his head, he slowly removes his mask. they lower their guns as he climbs up a trellis to the window, which is now closed. Pressing a button on his Gender-Neutered Belt, he waits the second or two required for the window to open. Climbing in, Politically Correct Man realizes he is bleeding from several rose bush ("I HATE that word!", he snarls) cuts. he picks up the phone and punches a button.

P.C. Man: "This is Bill. Fair ta middlin', how 'bout you? ... Well, I can't fly today. Any idea what gives? ... Sagitarius is rising, huh? Darn. ... Yeah, I know. Thanks, Nancy. My love to Ronnie."


P.C. Man: "Yes?"

Secretary: "Sir, the Vice President is here to see you."

P.C. Man: "Send him in!"

Narrator: (door opens, closes)

Gore Man: "Sir! I thought you had gone to explain your new education philosophy to the Association of Professional Educators!"

P.C. Man: "I'll head over to A.P.E. in a few minutes. The signs are disparaging, so my powers are at low ebb."

Gore Man: "Will more crystals help?"

P.C. Man: "I'm filling my shoes with salt as we speak. (annoyed) Al, you're bleeding on the carpet again."

Gore Man: "Sorry, sir. My costume keeps leaking."

P.C. Man: "I didn't even realize you had your Gore Man suit on under your brooks Brothers. Nice disguise. So why are you here?"

Gore Man: "It's that PMRC thing, sir. Ted Nugent took Tipper hostage and is demanding the right to burn nude fundamentalists on stage while french kissing decapitated baby ducks."

P.C. Man: "Well, that's certainly protected by the First Amendment. How did Tipper get involved?"

Gore Man: "She asked him to voluntarily limits ticket sales to those over 6 years of age. He countered by offering not to admit aborted fetuses. She asked if he could just pat the ducks. He took her hostage with a Weatherby 30-30."

P.C. Man: "Is that an Evyl Assault Ryfle?"

Gore Man: "No, sir. It's a legitimate hunting rifle."

P.C. Man: "Well, don;t worry. We'll eventually outlaw those, too. OK. Let's go get Tipper. I think my shoes are as full of salt as I can pack them and still force them on my feet."

Gore Man: "What about APE, sir?"

P.C. Man: "They'll wait. After all, I'm the president - they have to. Let's go. Want to press the button?"

Gore Man: "Let me shed my outer suit, first..."<sounds of man struggling with suit, cloth ripping> "OK! Let's go, sir!"

<window opens, wind noise follows>

P.C. Man: "Al, is Tipper cool on the Ramones?"

Gore Man: "I think so. They've been pretty lame, lately."

P.C. Man: "Hey, ho, let's GO!"

<departing super-hero noises>

(commercial break)

<over wind & cape noise, raucous electric guitar-based rock music with truly bad drumming gradually gets louder>

<Thump! Bump! Etc!> (music stops)

Gore Man: "Unholy PACs, P.C. Man! What is this???"

P.C. Man: "That's Ted Nugent and company..."

Ted Nugent: (screaming) "Who the <BEEP> is this <BEEP>? Security!!!!"

P.C. Man: "We've come to get Tipper, Ted. Let her go and I'll give you a tax break."

<BLAM!> (ricochet sounds) <snick> <BLAM!> (ricochet sounds) <snick> <BLAM!> (ricochet sounds)

Ted Nugent: "Hey! You <BEEP> ain't even <BEEP> scratched!"

Gore Man: "Of course not. Nor am I wet! This, after all, is a Kevlar[tm] and Gore-tex[tm] suit!"

Ted Nugent: "But those were head shots!"

P.C. Man: "No damage. we pawned our brains to jump start our campaign funding. Now, Ted, let Tipper go, and we'll give you... oh, I don't know... what do you think, Gore Man?"

Gore Man: "Well, Bill, for our music terrorists today, we have the all-new Guitar Gun by Der Spiegel! When you say Der Spiegel, you say mass musical murderous mayhem. How about that, Ted?"


Gore Man: "Well, then, what do you want?"

Ted Nugent: "The right to perform nude. Anywhere. Anytime. Any weather."

Gore Man: "Already covered by the First Amendment. No problem."

Ted Nugent: "A white drummer."

P.C. Man: and G: (in unison) "What???"

Ted Nugent: "You heard me, man! The feds sent me this gay, Latino, blind, deaf, quadriplegic for a drummer, and..."

P.C. Man: "Now, Ted, we have quotas for a reason..."

Ted Nugent: "He can stay. He can sing background vocals. But he can't play drums. I mean, he can't! How could he?"

Drummer (whining): "But I always wanted to play drums. It's not faaaiiirrr!"

P.C. Man: "How about if we trade you a left-handed redneck with all his teeth, from the white House band? He blows a mean clarinet."

Ted Nugent: "WHAT?!"

P.C. Man: "We are dedicated to helping all minorities equally."

Ted Nugent: "AAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!" <BLAM!>

P.C. Man: "My God! I mean, my... what day is this again, Gore Man?"

Gore Man: "Monday, sir."

P.C. Man: "My stars! He shot himself! Blew his head off! Will these rock stars stop at nothing to get media coverage?"

Gore Man: "No more than us, sir."

P.C. Man: "Probably the victim of repressive parents. Maybe this will help us to outlaw them after we finish with guns. Well, go find Tipper, son..."

Gore Man: "Thanks, sir. what are you going to do?"

P.C. Man: "Go explain my proposed one-letter grading system to APE. I'm tired of seeing kids get their feelings hurt because of Evil Competition. Peace, baby, I'm off! Oops - you're bleeding again."

Gore Man: "It's this costume, sir. Gore man is supposed to bleed. See? Right here, from the heart..."

P.C. Man: "Hey, ho, let's go!" (runs, leaps, falls, rolls, crashes into drum set, knocking drummer off stage) "Oof! Anyone got any salt?"

Gore Man: "Tippppper... Tiiippppperrr? Where are you, honey?"

(fade out)

Last updated: 26 May 2001

Copyright 1995 Miles O'Neal, Austin, TX. All rights reserved.

Miles O'Neal <> [remove the "XYZZY." to make things work!] c/o RNN / 1705 Oak Forest Dr / Round Rock, TX / 78681-1514