Ambush Bug Presents :
Mar. 24th, 2006 08:40 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
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The lights roll down onto a somber, almost Masterpiece-Theatre-like stage. Seated in a comfy-looking chair in the center is Ambush Bug, dressed like Hugh Hefner, perusing a copy of Who's Who in the DC Universe, and puffing on a bubble pipe. Pretending to have just noticed the camera, he sets the book aside and begins to speak.
"Mmah, guv edening.."
He pauses, taking the pipe from his lips, and taps it out in a nearby ashtray.
"Ahem. Ah, good evening. So glad you could join us. Come on in, sit a spell. Take your shoes off. Ya'll come back now, y'hear?"
He folds his hands on his lap. "I'm here, with the assistance of the good folks at the Pubic Broadcasting System.. eh?" He looks off-camera, exchanging whispered words with a stagehand. "Er, Public Broadcasting System, yes." He inhales. "Anyways, we're here as a sort of informative forum, to catch you all up on news of the day, discuss topics of interest, and things like that."
"First, I'd like to point out, that in a recent discussion between messers Nightwing and the Flash.. Flash III, Nightwing 0, for those keeping score.. that it was revealed that Miss Jesse Quick and Miss Flamebird got bi-zay." He pauses for effect. "I'd just like to add - that's totally freakin' hot!" He adjusts the collar of the smoking jacket he wears. "But, one wonders - how'd they sort out their costumes after? It'd be like a sea of red and gold. Heck, if you threw Mary Marvel in the mix.." He just sort of trails off right there, staring off into space..
Soembody stage-whispers 'You're on the air, you moron!'
"Hm? Oh, right.. right. I just got that image in my head, and Shazam!"
A chorus of groans goes up from the studio audience.
"Anyway, this segues nicely into my next point. How the devil do people who work at Arkham Asylum get affordable insurance rates? I mean, really. And how do they convince interns to work there?"
He eases back into the chair. "I think we'll open up the phone lines now, and see if we have any callers. That's : 555-DC4U."
"Mmah, guv edening.."
He pauses, taking the pipe from his lips, and taps it out in a nearby ashtray.
"Ahem. Ah, good evening. So glad you could join us. Come on in, sit a spell. Take your shoes off. Ya'll come back now, y'hear?"
He folds his hands on his lap. "I'm here, with the assistance of the good folks at the Pubic Broadcasting System.. eh?" He looks off-camera, exchanging whispered words with a stagehand. "Er, Public Broadcasting System, yes." He inhales. "Anyways, we're here as a sort of informative forum, to catch you all up on news of the day, discuss topics of interest, and things like that."
"First, I'd like to point out, that in a recent discussion between messers Nightwing and the Flash.. Flash III, Nightwing 0, for those keeping score.. that it was revealed that Miss Jesse Quick and Miss Flamebird got bi-zay." He pauses for effect. "I'd just like to add - that's totally freakin' hot!" He adjusts the collar of the smoking jacket he wears. "But, one wonders - how'd they sort out their costumes after? It'd be like a sea of red and gold. Heck, if you threw Mary Marvel in the mix.." He just sort of trails off right there, staring off into space..
Soembody stage-whispers 'You're on the air, you moron!'
"Hm? Oh, right.. right. I just got that image in my head, and Shazam!"
A chorus of groans goes up from the studio audience.
"Anyway, this segues nicely into my next point. How the devil do people who work at Arkham Asylum get affordable insurance rates? I mean, really. And how do they convince interns to work there?"
He eases back into the chair. "I think we'll open up the phone lines now, and see if we have any callers. That's : 555-DC4U."
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Date: 2006-03-25 02:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-25 02:26 am (UTC)He leans forward, towards the camera. "My next question is this : President Luthor - better with red hair, or without?" He holds up side by side pictures of Luthor - one bald, one with the red curls and beard he briefly sported.
"Personally, I think he looks like an Irish Abraham Lincoln."
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Date: 2006-03-25 02:28 am (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2006-03-25 02:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-25 02:35 am (UTC)He nods thoughtfully. "And it's a good question too. The term 'Bi-Zay' dates back to Ancient Philadelphia, to Benjamin Franklin. A great inventor, that man, it's a little-known fact that he was also the father of ebonics."
He leans forward, conspiratorially. "It came to pass one day that old Benjy was needed at the Continental Congress, but he was otherwise preoccupied, and shouted at the messenger boy outside his door, 'I'm Bi-zay!'"
The Bug nods sagely. "It's because of a little escapade of his while driving a horsedrawn carriage that we derive the phrase, 'Get your swerve on' as well."
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Date: 2006-03-25 02:36 am (UTC)"I do not think you are being honest with me."
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Date: 2006-03-25 02:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-25 02:52 am (UTC)He signals Cheeks for a drum-sting, that never comes.
"Been meaning to ask you, capital Q - which Question are you? "
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Date: 2006-03-25 02:54 am (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2006-03-25 03:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-25 03:27 am (UTC)He holds up a plain white totebag, emblazoned with the image of his last team-up with the Doom Patrol : him grinning at the camera, giving a thumbs-up, leaning on a shovel, in front of five tombstones.
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Date: 2006-03-25 03:43 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2006-03-25 07:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-26 01:47 am (UTC)The Bug gives a thumbs-up.
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Date: 2006-03-26 02:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-26 05:10 am (UTC)An artist's rendering is displaying on the screen, Hawkman with a white leisure suit, bellbottoms, and a huge gold 'hawk' medallion.
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Date: 2006-03-26 03:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-03-26 05:12 am (UTC)He leans forward. "But if you're really concerned about Memoirs, let me spoil it for you. Girl becomes Geisha, Geisha falls in love, repressed Japanese morality plays havoc with their lives, somebody kills themself, the end."
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Date: 2006-03-26 05:17 am (UTC)(no subject)
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