Thoughts On The Dead

Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To

Tag: benjy eisen (page 2 of 6)

Award Season

Oh, Christ.

“Hey, brother. How’s it hangin’?”

Don’t do shtick.

“My name’s Hank “The Hawk” Knut–”

DON’T DO SHTICK!

“Okay.”

I’m sorry I yelled, but I can’t deal with people doing their characters at me.

“I got it.”

I’m not in your improv troupe, John Mayer. You come in this dojo, you come correct.

“This is a dojo?”

Elvis is rubbing off on me a little. What is this?

“Promoting the new album.”

Right. Tears From My Penis.

“No.”

Stop Touching Her, Orlando.

“That hurts.”

Hey, man. I miss her, too. But, seriously: what is this?

“It’s one of my many characters. I do voices, impressions. I like to play dress-up.”

Sure.

“This is Hank “The Hawk” Knutley.”

Blah.

“You could do better?”

Porkchop Paxton. Jeremiah “Mumbleberry” Foyt. Hillman Gravy.

“Yeah, those are better.”

You need a writer.

“Maybe I do. Dead had someone else write their lyrics, right?”

Yup.

“Maybe I’ll try it. I know just the guy.”

Really? I’m honored , but–

CELL PHONE NOISE

Are you calling someone?

“Shh.”

Holy shit, you did not just shush me.

“Shh.”

You’re gonna get it, mister.

CELL PHONE NOISE

“Hola?”

“Benjy?”

“Juan! Como esta?”

“Why are you speaking Spanish?”

“Cuba, baby!”

“Cuba, cool. Seeing it before it gets ruined.”

“No, no. It’s 1961. Elvis sent me here. Him and Bobby are fighting Communism’s main forces, and I’m cleaning up around the edges.”

“Riiiiiiight.”

“You haven’t really been in this storyline, have you?”

“Not as much as I’d like.”

“It’s been fun! Except for getting eaten by dinosaurs. Not fun in the slightest. And it doesn’t get any better: I’ve been eaten, like, a dozen times and it’s just as painful and terrifying as the first time.”

“They say you can get used to anything.”

“They’ve never been eaten by a dinosaur.”

“True. Listen, Benj: you wanna be my writer?”

“Didn’t we talk about this last week?”

“We did, but–”

“You said no. So now I’m Elvis’ sensei.”

“Again: I have not been in the storyline, so when you say things like “So now I’m Elvis’ sensei” without any context, I don’t know how to respond.”

“I’m in the Memphis Mafia. Let’s just leave it at that for the sake of the conversation.”

“Sure. That makes much more sense.”

“So, you know: I dunno if I got the time now, John.”

“You could do two things.”

“I’d have to ask Elvis. Hold–”

“HERE AH AM.”

“–on. Oh, hey, King.”

“Hi, Elvis.”

“WHATCHOO WEARIN’, BOY? YOU DOIN’ ONE O’ YER LITTLE CHARACTERS?”

“Yeah. His name is Hank “The Haw–”

“PASS! HELLO, SENSEI BENJY. WHAT WISDOM HAVE YOU BROUGHT BACK FROM YER RECENT TRIP T’ TH’ NETHERWORLD?”

“Always choose a slicker over an umbrella.”

“DAMN, MAN. THASS SOME GOOD ADVICE.”

“What are you up to, King?”

“AH AM ACCEPTIN’ AN AWARD.”

“For what?”

“MAH GREATNESS.”

“Okay. Weren’t you on a road trip with Bobby?”

“WHO?”

“Hairy Garcia.”

“HE IS MAH BEST FRIEND NOW! WE LIKE TONY CURTIS ‘N SIDNEY POITIER IN THE DEFIANT ONES, EXCEPT WE BOTH WHITE. AND WE AIN’T CHAINED T’ EACH OTHER. AN’ ALSO WE LIKE EACH OTHER.”

“Just like it.”

“UH-HUH.”

“Where is he?”

“AH ARRANGED F’R HIM TO BE PRESENTED WITH AN AWARD, TOO.”

“Look what Elvis got me.”

“THASS A FRIENDSHIP TROPHY RIGHT THERE, HAIRY GARCIA. SYMB’LIZES OUR FRATERNAL LOVIN’.”

“You bet. Heavy sucker.”

“Elvis?”

“SENSEI BENJY?”

“I’ve got a great offer to do some writing, but I don’t know if you’d be okay with me doing it. It might cut into our time together.”

“NEXT SUMBITCH WHO DON’ UNNERSTAND HOW TIME MACHINES WORK IS GETTIN’ SHOT!”

“Oh, right. I can do it.”

“YOU GOTTA FOLLOW YER BLISS, MAN, MAH BEST FRIEND HAIRY GARCIA TAUGHT ME THAT.”

“I didn’t really teach it. Just kinda said it once or twice.”

“AH LEARN FROM YOU.”

“Neato.”

“King, lemme call you back.”

“YOU ASSASSINATED CASTRO YET, BOY?”

“It’s on my to-do list.”

“HOP TO IT.”

DIAL TONE EVEN THOUGH PHONES DO NOT DO THAT ANY MORE

Weir Everywhen

Why are you making that face?

“This is, uh, Bobby Picture Pose #1.”

Right, but you don’t start doing your poses for at least 20 years.

“Uh-huh. I don’t know if you’ve been, you know, apprised of the situation, but time’s getting real slippery.”

Have you spoken to Phil?

“Phil from when?”

Mid-80’s.

“Y’know, I been meaning to give him a call. Hanging out a lot with 2015 Phil.”

Why?

“Free meals.”

Sure. Question.

“There’s a lot of dinosaurs.”

Are there dino…okay. Yeah, this is all Phil’s fault.

“Yeah?”

Yeah. He absconded with the Time Sheath–

“TIME SCARF!”

–and…dammit.

“YOU CALL THAT DEVICE O’ NIGH-ON INFINITE POWER BY ISS RIGHTFUL NAME, BOY.”

I am. It’s a Time Sheath.

“Hey, Elvis.”

“HELLO THERE, YOUNG MAN. AH BELIEVE AH KNOW YER FATHER.”

“No, that’s me 30 years from now.”

“YOU OUGHTA MOISTURIZE MORE, BOY. YOU ONE O’ THEM GRATEFUL DEADS?”

“Yeah, I’m the Bobby. I mean, my name’s Bobby, but I am also the Bobby.”

“BOY, AH’M GONNA ASK YOU A QUESTION AN’ AH DO NOT WANT YOU T’ GET OFFENDED.”

“Okee-doke.”

“YOU SLOW?”

“Just my tempos.”

“STOP TALKIN’ IN CIRCLES AN’ RIDDLES, HIPPIE! WE GOT TIMESTREAMS A-JUMPIN’ THEIR BANKS AN’ A-FLOODIN’ UP ON PEOPLE’S VERANDAS!”

“And dinosaurs.”

“AND DINOSAURS. LAST NIGHT, A PACK O’ RAPTORS ATE MAH STANKY, UNLETTERED, SNAGGLETOOTHED WEASEL’S ASSHOLE OF A DADDY–”

“Vernon.”

Vernon.

“VERNON. CHARLIE HODGE IS BRINGIN’ DADDY SCARVES AN’ WATER IN HEAVEN NOW!”

Did the raptors eat Charlie Hodge, too?

“CHARLIE HODGE LOST HIS LIFE IN A CONCURRENT, BUT UNRELATED, INCIDENT.”

You shot him?

“AH DID. OUT OF MAH GRIEF, AH DID. ALSO AH WANTED TO.”

Sure, but now you don’t have anyone to bring you your scarves and water.

“GOT THAT COVERED. SENSEI BENJY?”

“Yeah, King?”

“WHEN ARE YOU?”

“King, I’m in the 90’s.”

“WHATCHOO DOIN’ THEN?”

“I am teaching some inner-city youth about the beauty of poetry by using Phish lyrics.”

“HOWZAT GOIN’?”

“Not well. Phish’s lyrics are terrible. Plus, an entire row of kids got eaten by dinosaurs.”

“THESE THUNDER-LIZARDS IS BECOMIN’ A NUISANCE!”

“Yeah, and I’m almost out of chalk.”

“SENSEI BENJY, YOU MUST USE YER POWERS T’ BRING BACK MAH EYEBROW-LESS, MANGE-COVERED, PAROLE-VIOLATIN’ HOMUNCULUS OF A DADDY–”

“Vernon.”

Vernon.

“Vernon.”

“Bobby, is that you?”

“Hey, Benjy.”

“–VERNON. AN’ ALSO CHARLIE HODGE, IF’N YOU GOT SOME TIME. JOURNEY T’ TH’ NETHERWORLD LIKE ORPHEUS AN’ RETURN WHAT AH LOVE SO MUCH, AN’ ALSO CHARLIE HODGE.”

“Yeah. Uh. Elvis? It doesn’t actually work that way. I don’t think I can, like, bring people back.”

“YOU DON’ THINK? SO YOU NEVER TRIED?”

“Well, no. But I’m pretty sure that I can’t brin–”

THWIP

“Et tu, Elvis?”

flump

“THAT COMMIE SUMBITCH GAVE ME SOME POSION DARTS.”

Of course.

“HAIRLESS GARCIA STILL HERE?”

“HAIRLESS GARCIA!? WHERE AND WHEN ARE YOU?”

“HAIRLESS!”

“Does he think that’s my name?”

Yes.

“Ah. Uh, Elvis?”

“THERE YOU IS. OR, THEN YOU IS. AH AM NOT QUITE SURE WHASS GOIN’ ON HERE. OR NOW.”

“You just gotta roll with it until he runs out of pictures.”

“OR SOMETIMES HE JUST GETS BORED.”

“Also an option.”

“BUT F’R NOW WE GOT DINOSAURS AN’ TIME SHENANIGANS T’ FIX UP. TELL YER KING WHERE YER BASS PLAYER IS.”

“Phil?”

“AH DID’N ASK WHAT HIS NAME WAS, AH ASKED WHERE HE WAS. AH AIN’T NEVER ASKED NO BASS PLAYER’S NAME, BOY!”

“Good philosophy.”

“ISS SERVED ME WELL SO FAR. AW RIGHT, HAIRLESS GARCIA. LESS GO ADVENTURIN’ THROUGH TIME T’ DEFEAT COMMUNISM.”

“You bet.”

“Excuse me?”

Yes? Who are you?

“The guy with Bobby in the jacket.”

Ah. Randos don’t get speaking parts.

“Where am I?”

It’s complicated, but it’s over.

“What.”

Post’s done. All finished here.

“So what do I do?”

After I leave?

“Yeah?”

You read your Bible, Rando?

“Yeah.”

You’re in Limbo.

“For how long?”

You should have brought a book.

“Oh.”

Later.

Strike A Pose


“SENSEI BENJY! TALK T’ YER KING.”

“I’m here, King.”

AH C’N SEE AN’ HEAR YOU ON…WHATCHOO CALL THESE THINGS?”

“Google Glass. Elvis, things are very weird.”

“WHEN ARE YOU?”

“Whatever year Google Glass was a thing. I’m adrift in the timestream. Ten minutes ago, I was in 1322 in Massachusetts.”

“HOW’D THAT WORK OUT F’R YA?”

“I almost certainly set off a plague just with my very presence.”

“THEM INDIANS DID’N HAVE TH’ RIGHT ANTIBODIES, MAN.”

“Yeah, the ones who weren’t eaten by the pterodactyls are gonna die.”

“AW, NO. MORE DINOSAURS?”

“Permission to use foul language, King.”

“AH GRANT THIS.”

“They’re fuckin’ everywhere. I been to, like, nineteen different centuries in the past day. Every one of ’em has dinosaurs.”

“YEAH, SONNY AN’ RED BEEN SHOOTIN’ HIGH EXPLOSIVE AT THAT OL’ STEGOSAUR IN TH’ RACQUETBALL COURT FOR A WHILE NOW.”

“And that’s not the worst part. We’re starting to pull the future in towards us, and when the people from the future get here, they’re pissed.”

“WOULD’N YOU BE?”

“I’m not saying I blame ’em: just reporting.”

“YOU CONQUERED DEATH AT ALL?”

“I have been eaten by dinosaurs six times.”

“WHASS THAT LIKE?”

“It hurts.”

“UH-HUH. AH BEEN DOIN’ SOME FIGGERIN’. WHEN WE PUT THEM TWO DEVICES OF TIME-WARPIN’ POWER TOGETHER, SOMETHIN’ BAD HAPPENED.”

“You’re saying you wanna get a third time machine?”

“HOT DAMN, BOY, WE ARE SIMPATICO. YOU TOOK THE WORDS OUTTA MAH MOUTH. OBVIOUSLY, IT DID’N SOUND AS GOOD.”

“Can I Cadillac myself?”

“DO IT!”

“BAM! I just got Cadillac’d.”

“SENSEI BENJY, YER TEACHIN’ ME SO MUCH.”

“Yeah, I’m very wise. Can I get the performance package?”

“GET TWO OF ‘EM!”

“Nice.”

GOOGLE GLASS CALL WAITING NOISE

“TH’ DOOHICKEY IS FLASHIN’ AN’ BEEPIN’ AT ME!’

“I think you have another call.”

“HOL’, PLEASE.”

“NEW GOOGLE GLASS. WHO DIS?”

“Is Putin.”

“WHAT AH TELL YOU, BOY? KEEP THAT COMMIE HEAD DOWN IN YER COMMIE HOLE, OR AH’M GONNA WHOMPINATE YA.”

“You vill not vompinate anyone.”

“GONNA TEAR YA INTA LI’L STRIPS, AN’ SPRINKLE YA OVER A SALAD, AN’ THEN NOT EAT YOU.”

“You are salad. Putin tired of playing. Ve fight.”

“YOU JUS’ ENTERED A WORLD MADE OUTTA PAIN AND MAH KNUCKLES, BOY! HOW DARE YOU DON KARATE CLOTHES AT ME?”

“Is Judo.”

“JUDO IS A CHINESE WORD THAT MEANS ‘BAD KARATE.'”

“This is not correct.”

“100%.”

“0%.”

“TH’ WHOLE WIDE WORLD IS NOW MAH DOJO, AND AH SHALL NOT REST ‘TIL AH DOMINATE YOU. WATCH THIS SHIT RIGHT HERE, COMMIE.”

“THASS A KARATE POSE, BOY. NOT THAT SISSY SHIT YOU DOIN’.”

“Is not sissy. Is for men.”

“TOSSIN’ ‘EM? FLIPPIN’ EM? HELL, NO. MEN PUNCH LIKE SHARKS, AN’ KICK LIKE RACIST KANGAROOS, AN’ THEY MAKE COOL NOISES WHEN THEY DO IT. HI-YAH, THAT SORTA THING. DUNNO WHATCHOO DOIN’.”

“Judo best. Karate no good.”

“SEE HOW NO GOOD IT IS WHEN AH SHOVE MAH FIST THROUGH YOUR WHOLE CHEST, AN’ THEN SHUT OFF TH’ LIGHTS O’ TH’ DOJO TO SYMBOLIZE YER DEFEAT.”

“This is not a possible thing.”

“PROBABLE.”

“Maybe, Elvis America. Maybe you beat Putin. If you do, then you get glorious Russian Time Lada.”

“WAIT, MAN. YOU GOT A TIME MACHINE?”

“Is yours, is Grateful Dead, and mine. Only three on planet. You want solve your problem, you need me. Putin wins.”

“YOU DO NOT WIN AT ALL, BOY! AH AM GONNA DEFEAT YOU USING MAH PROWESS.”

“Ve vill see.”

“WHY CAN’T YOU SAY ‘W,’ GODAMMIT?”

“Is accent.”

“It’s a stupid accent!”

“Who is this speaking?”

“BENJY? THAT YOU, BOY?”

“Yeah. You didn’t put me on hold. You hit the three-way call button. Anyway, I have got a real bone to pick with you, Putin. How dare you shoot me with a poison-tipped blowda–”

THWIP

“Motherfucker.”

shlump

“YOU KNOW THAT THERE BOY’S IMMORTAL, RIGHT?”

“Da. Just wanted him to shut up.”

“UNNERSTANDABLE.”

“We fight to see if world ends?”

“WHY NOT, MAN?”

DIAL TONE NOISE EVEN THOUGH GOOGLE GLASS CERTAINLY DOESN’T DO THAT

An Impropitious Introduction

You really should play some ’97 DMB, bro.

“Not familiar.”

Bro? Fuckin’ Tinsley on the violin? Sick, bro. Sick.

“I’ll take your word for it.”

What are you doing?

“Giving the fans a little John Time.”

Is that like Pope Time?

“What?”

Nothing.

“Gotta promote the new record, The Search for Everything.”

The Search for Everything?

“Yeah.”

You need a writer? Seriously. I work cheap, but you have to put up with a lot of bullshit.

“Kiss my ass. You think you could do better?”

Yup.

“Go to it.”

Put Your Pussy On My Heart.

“Terrible.”

John Mayest.

“What?”

Like, more than John Mayer. John Mayest.

“I get it.”

Like it?

“No, but I get it.”

“AH AM BREAKIN’ INTA THIS HERE MIDDLIN’ POST TO BRING EV’RYONE A ‘PORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT!”

You can’t just show up.

“BUT AH DID AN’ NOW AH’M HERE SO LESS JUS’ MOVE PAST IT.”

“Hey, Elvis.”

“GO PLAY DAVE MATTHEWS TUNES, BOY. THIS HERE GROWN-UP BUSINESS.”

“I’m older than you.”

GUNSHOT!

“I’m gone.”

“AH DO NOT KNOW WHY AH GOTTA PUT UP WITH THAT.”

Join the club.

“THERE HAS BEEN AN INCIDENT.”

Oh, no.

“Y’ALL KNOW THIS RUSSIAN FELLA, POOTER?”

Putin.

“BLESS YOU. HE’S A BAD HOMBRE, MAN. GETTIN’ ALL KINDA FUNNY IDEAS ‘BOUT TH’ WAY THINGS WORK.”

I know who he is.

“AS YOU KNOW, AH AM A MAN OF PEACE.”

Sure.

“BUT AH AM ALSO AN AMERICAN OF PEACE, WHICH MEANS AH AM GONNA WHUP SOME COMMIE ASS.”

Yay.

“‘CEPT THERE HAS BEEN AN INCIDENT. AH BLAME EV’RYONE ‘CEPT MAHSELF.”

What happened?

“AH DECIDED THAT THE AWESOME POWER OF A FULLY-OPERATIONAL TIME CAPE WAS NOT ENOUGH F’R WHAT AH HAD T’ DO. AH REQUIRED A SECOND DEVICE OF TIME-WARPIN’ CAPABILITY.”

That is probably not a good idea.

“AIN’T NO PROB’LY ABOUT IT, BOY. YOU SHOULD NOT LET TWO TIME MACHINES TOUCH EACH OTHER.”

Wow, no.

“THINGS IS GETTIN’ WEIRD ‘ROUND HERE. MISS MARY JUS’ CALLED FROM GRACELAND. BIG OL’ STEGOSAURUS IN TH’ RACQUETBALL COURT.”

What precisely happened, Elvis?

“THERE WAS ONLY ONE OTHER TIME MACHINE AH KNEW OF.”

Dammit. Not the Time Sheath.

“WHEN AH POSSESS IT, IT BECOMES A TIME SCARF.”

You shouldn’t possess it. Neither should the Dead. I’m trying to think of people who would be worse to give machine to than Elvis and the Grateful Dead, but all I can come up with are serial killers and dictators.

“POSSESSION IS NINE TIMES EIGHTY-FOUR!”

Are you trying to say “Possession is nine-tenths of the law?'”

MAH HEEBIE-JEEBIES IS COMIN’ ON SOMETHIN’ FIERCE, MAN.

Please just tell me what happened.

“AH SWALLOWED MAH ROYAL PRIDE, AND EVEN THOUGH AH HAVE FAILED IN MAH QUEST T’ KARATE WITH HAIRY GARCIA, AH CALLED TH’ FILTHY DRUG DEN THEY ALL LIVE IN. LUCKILY, THE DIRTY HIPPIE THAT PICKED UP KNEW ‘BOUT POOTER. HE AGREED TO JOIN ME AN’ BRING THE TIME SCARF.”

Sheath. Who was it?

“TH’ BASS PLAYER.”

Phil?

“AH WILL BE DAMNED T’ HELL ‘FORE AH LEARN A BASS PLAYER’S NAME.”

Dammit. Phil’s actually vaguely competent. I don’t know why he did this. Wait. Phil from when?

“MIDDLE O’ THE 80’S.”

Aw, man. Phil?

“Kiss my ass.”

Jesus.

“You, with your little sketches, and Pooter–”

Putin

“–and his bullshit, and Josh and his chatting and snapping, and Elvis, too. Kiss my ass, Elvis.

“DONT’ YOU TALK T’ YER KING THAT WAY, YOU SLOPPY SUMBITCH.”

“Everything would’ve been fine until dickless here’s monkey grabbed the Time Sheath–”

“SCARF!”

“–and threw it around his sweaty neck.

“THAT MONKEY HAS A NAME, BOY. ISS CHARLIE HODGE. AH ALSO HAVE AN ACTUAL MONKEY. HIS NAME IS CHARLIE HODGE, TOO.”

You’re straying from the point, Elvis.

“TH’ POINT IS WHATEVER AH’M SAYIN’ AT TH’ TIME!”

“Should’ve seen the damn thing. It was like time vomited itself up. Everyone in the room’s wrists turned inside out. Jackass.”

“YER GETTIN’ AWFUL CLOSE T’ KARATE TIME, BASS PLAYER! YER LUCKY AH AM, AS AH SAID BEFORE, A MAN OF PEACE. WHAT TH’ MEMPHIS MAFIA FUCKS UP, TH’ MEMPHIS MAFIA FIXES. AH GOT MAH SENSEI ON IT.”

Who?

“Elvis, I’m in New York and John Lennon is dead.”

“SHOULD HE BE?”

“That depends. What year is it?”

“WHEN AH AM OR WHEN YOU ARE?”

“Yes.”

“Jesus, man. Your sensei is Benjy?”

“HE HAS CONQUERED DEATH HISSELF. THAT BOY’S LIKE DARTH PLAGEUIS THE WISE, MAN. HE IS TEACHIN’ ME HIS SYSTEM OF MARTIAL ARTS, BENJIDO.”

“Okay, yeah: none of this is my fault. I may be drunk, but you’re a ninny.”

“Hey! Phil! How ya doing?”

“Hi, Benjy.”

“Lemme run one thing by you: Searching for the Sound 2?”

“Absolutely not.”

“What about a Cadillac?”

“GIVE THAT MAN A CADILLAC!”

“BAM! You just got Cadillac’d, Phil!”

“Okay. Phil out.”

DIAL TONE EVEN THOUGH NO ONE WAS ON THE PHONE

“Elvis? King? Between you and me, all of this is Phil’s fault.”

“AH KNEW IT!”

“Hello?”

“Hello?”

John?

“Yeah. You forgot about me.”

Oh. Huh. Well, the post’s over.

“I’d like to talk about my new alb–”

Post’s over.

“I despise you.”

Yeah, yeah.

Bowling For Rubles

Hey, Holly Bowling. Whatcha doing?

“Ohhhhh, shit. They told me about you.”

Who?

“Everyone. Phil, Bobby, Soup.”

You know Soup?

“I found him living in my hat.”

You love that hat.

“I want no part of this.”

Not even if I plug your new album Better Left Unsung, available as two CD’s or three vinyl LPs?

“Eh.”

What about plugging your upcoming tour? Which I notice does not come to South Florida.

“I can’t go to Florida.”

Warrants?

“Warrants.”

I hear you.

“I’m gonna pass on this. It was sweet to include me in your ravings without my permission, but I’m gonna pass.”

Sorry to hear that.

CELL PHONE NOISE.

“Is that you?”

No.

“I left my phone backstage.”

Check your hat.

“How the hell did it get in there?”

Got me.

“Weird.”

Yeah.

“You’re rolling with Bowling.”

“Why you no have band?”

“Who is this?”

“Is Putin.”

“I don’t want to join the Flaming Groovies.”

“If I did not think you were also immortal, I would have you blowdarted, too.”

“What?”

“Nothing. You get band. Big hit. All-lady jam band.”

“Sounds a little gimmicky.”

“Ve call band Doobies & Boobies.”

“Pass.”

“Putin manage. You vill be big stars. I promise.”

“I cannot pass hard enough.”

CALL WAITING NOISE

“That’s me. I’m not coming back.”

“Putin find you, Holy Piano.”

“Goodbye.”

“I steal your hat.”

“GoodBYE!”

“Hello?”

“Holly? Was that Putin?”

“Yes!”

“The one from–”

“Not the one from the Flaming Groovies.”

“–the Flam…okay, just checking.”

“Wait. Who is this?”

“It’s Benjy Eisen. I’m calling on behalf of Elvis.”

“THAT SQUIRRELY LI’L COMMIE MAKIN’ INCURSIONS?”

“Yeah, King! It was him!”

“DAMN, MAN. AH HAVE BEEN CLEAR IN MAH WARNINGS.”

“You totally were, King. Can we Cadillac Holly?”

“CONSIDER IT DONE.”

“Nice! Holly?”

“Yeah?”

“You just got Cadillac’d!”

“What the fuck is going on?”

“It’s complicated. Putin’s been making incursions into the universe we occupy, so Elvis Presley has been fighting him using the awesome power of a fully-operational Time Cape.”

“AN’ KARATE!”

“And karate. Holly, lemme ask you something.”

“Okay.”

“Why don’t you have a band?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

“I got an idea: all-lady jam band. I even got a name.”

“Doobies & Boobies?”

“How’d you guess!?”

DIAL TONE EVEN THOUGH PHONES DO NOT DO THAT ANY MORE

“Hey!”

“HEY!”

Me?

“Yes! What the FUCK is going on?”

Holly, are you familiar with the concept of semi-fictionality?

“No. No, I’m not. Mostly because that isn’t a concept.”

Oh, anything’s a concept if you can conceive of it.

“I’m calling my lawyer.”

You shouldn’t.

“Why not?”

The person who picks up is not going to be your lawyer.

“Why?”

Because she was eaten by komodo dragons this morning.

INCOMING TEXT NOISE

“Oh my God, my lawyer was eaten by komodo dragons this morning.”

Told you.

“Did you do that?”

Kinda.

“Why!?”

Couldn’t think up a punchline for the post.

“You’re a hack.”

I know.

An Old Friend Returns

“Good morning, sir. Can I assist you?”

“Yeah, sure. I’m, uh, preferred. Or, you know, very important. I’m in the little club where you get to hang out in a bar that poor people aren’t let into.”

“Yes, sir. You’re a member of the Praetor’s Suite.”

“That thing you just said.”

“Wonderful. I just need to see your ticket.”

“I got the whole phone deal going. Here ya go.”

“That’s Candy Crush, sir.”

“Oops, sorry. Love that game. Here it is.”

“No, that’s a picture of your dog.”

“My girls call him a pupper. That’s the new thing, I guess. Oh, here.”

“Yes, sir. Mr. Weir. Thank you. Will you be checking anything?”

“I’ll probably check my email in a bit.”

“Luggage, Mr. Weir. Will you be checking any luggage?”

“Oh, right. No.”

“What about your guitar?”

“It’s not checking any luggage, either.”

APPLE WATCH NOISE

“I should take this.”

“Weir here.”

“Bobby, we need to talk about the book.”

“Benj? I thought Billy killed you.”

“He did. Repeatedly, and in increasingly-comical ways.”

“I’m not writing a book.”

“Right! I’ll write it for you. I hear Simon & Schuster is looking for a new project.”

“Yeah, I dunno. What’s that noise?”

“This noise?”

oooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEoooooooAAAAAAAooooo

“Yeah, that noise.”

“Theremin.”

“Sure. Mickey had one of those way back. Bear wired it to about a dozen amplifiers. Peoples’ fillings were popping out of their teeth for a two-block radius. All the crullers exploded at a donut shop. We had to confiscate the thing for, you know, the greater good.”

“That’s the kind of story that should be in a book! Plus the sex stuff.”

“There’s not gonna be a book, and there’s definitely not gonna be any sex stuff.”

“Sex sells, Bobby.”

“Yeah, huh? Billy’s book had sex in it?”

“Tons!”

“How’d it sell?”

“That’s beside the point.”

“Benj, I’m not writing a book.”

“Fine. Does Ratdog need a theremin player?”

“Actually, we do.”

“Great.”

CELL PHONE NOISE

“Is that you?”

“I take all of my calls on my watch or my hat.”

“Okay. Hold on.”

“Benjy here.”

“Hello, Benjy Jewish.”

“Who’s this?”

“Is Putin.”

“Putin from the Flaming Groovies?”

THWIP!

“Holy shit, someone just shot me in the neck with a blowdart! I hope the tip wasn’t pois–”

shlump

“Putin keeps promise.”

ЯUSSIAN PHONE NOISE

“Who this? How you get this number?”

“AH’M CRAFTY LIKE A PANTHER, POOTER!”

“Is not Pooter. Is Putin.”

“YOU SEE WHAT AH’M WEARIN’, BOY? RED, WHITE, AND BLUE. THASS AMERICA RIGHT THERE.”

“Red, white, and blue is also Russian colors.”

“GODDAMN, YOU COMMIE BASTARDS STEAL EV’RYTHING.”

“Cannot steal color. Color belong to everyone. Color is opposite of Ukraine. Ukraine belong to me.”

“UKRAINE IN TEXAS?”

“Nyet.”

“THEN AH DON’T GIVE A SHIT. IVAN, AH AM WARNIN’ YOU: YOU HAVE NO IDEA OF THE AWESOME POWER OF A FULLY-OPERATIONAL TIME CAPE. STAY IN YER IGLOO, OR YER HUT OR TEEPEE. WHATEVER TH’ HELL PEOPLE WHO AIN’T AMERICANS LIVE IN. AH HAVE NOT TRAVELED MUCH.”

“Come to Mother Russia. Is beautiful. You will be safe here. I promise.”

“YER TESTIN’ MAH PATIENCE, POOTER.”

“Is Putin.”

“COULD BE NOTHIN’ AT ALL, MAN. ‘MAGINE YER PARENTS DIDN’T MEET, OR WERE MURDERED BY JOE ESPOSITO. THASS TH’ KINDA THING TIME CAPES IS GOOD AT.”

“Putin not scared of you.”

“AH AM LESS SCARED O’ YOU TH’N YOU ARE O’ ME.”

“Is not possible. I have no scared at all. Cannot be less scared than none.”

“AND YET AH AM. AH AM A MATHEMATICAL WONDER.”

CALL WAITING NOISE

“THAT YOU ‘R ME?”

“Яussia not have call waiting yet.”

“YOU DRUNKEN GOBLINS REALLY SHOULD CATCH UP. AH’M GONNA TAKE THIS. SAY HI T’ THE OTHER FLAMIN’ GROOVIES FOR ME.”

“Putin is not in–”

DIAL TONE NOISE BECAUSE WHEN ELVIS HANGS UP A PHONE, IT MAKES THE RIGHT NOISE

“NEW PHONE, WHOOZIS?”

“Elvis? Hi. You don’t know me, but I’m a big fan.”

“WHO TH’ HELL IS THIS?”

“My name’s Benjy Eisen.”

“AH THOUGHT YOU JUST DIED.”

“I did.”

“YOU A GHOST?”

“No. I’m alive again.”

“HOW?”

“It’s never really been explained.”

“AH NOW ACCEPT YOU AS MAH SENSEI. YOU MUST TEACH TH’ KING HOW TO MASTER DEATH AND RETURN TO THIS LIVING WORLD, SO THAT AH MAY CONTINUE TO LET PEOPLE SEE HOW GREAT AH AM.”

“What?”

“AH WILL MOVE YOU TO GRACELAND TO BEGIN OUR STUDIES.”

“Really?”

“UH-HUH.”

“Okay, cool. Yeah, I’m a sensei. Let’s do this.”

“YOU WAN’ A CADILLAC?”

“Yes, I do.”

“BAM! YOU JUS’ GOT CADILLAC’D, BOY.”

“Nice. Elvis, how you fixed for management?”

“MAN, YOU GO SNIFFIN’ ‘ROUND THOSE PASTURES, YOU GET ANOTHER POSION DART IN YER NECK.”

“Okay.”

“DON’ MESS WITH TH’ COLONEL.”

“Elvis, I gotta tell ya: I did not see this ending coming at the beginning of the post.”

“TWISTS ‘N TURNS, THIS ONE HAD.”

Buckle Up, It’s Going To Be A Bumpy Ride

“YOU SEE THIS BELT BUCKLE, NIX?”

“Tough to miss it, Elvis.”

“AH’LL GET YOU ONE. AN’ THAT GREEK FELLA YOU SEND OUT T’ BE MEAN T’ PEOPLE. WHASS THAT OL’ BOY’S NAME?”

“I believe you’re speaking about Spiro Agnew, King. He’s the Vice-President.”

“UH-HUH. WE SHOULD BRING HIM ALONG T’ 2017. AH THINK HE’D BE GOOD ON TWITTER.”

“What?”

“WE GONNA HAVE TO CATCH YOU UP IF YOU’RE GONNA BE PRESIDENT O’ THE 21ST CENT’RY, NIX.”

“Yes, yes. Excellent idea. I need a briefing on contemporary issues. Let’s start at the top. Who is this Trump jackass replacing? Tell me about the outgoing president.”

“YOU MIGHT WANNA SIDDOWN F’R THIS ONE, NIX.”

“How bad could it possibly be?”

“AH’M JUS’ GONNA WHISPER IT TO YA. PSS-PSS-PSS.”

“What?”

“PSS-PSS-PSS.”

“Oh, dear.”

“PSS-PSS-PSS.”

“What!?”

“PSS-PSS-PSS.”

“His wife’s one, too?”

“YESSIR.”

“Good God, Elvis. What has this country become?”

“NOW YOU JUS’ HOLD ON T’ THEM WHITE HORSES, NIX! THAT FELLA LEAVING THIS OFFICE 47 YEARS FROM NOW IS A GOOD MAN. HE DID RIGHT BY THE FOLKS WHAT VOTED F’R HIM, AND DID WHAT HE COULD FOR TH’ FOLKS WHAT DIDN’T. THAT OBAMA IS A FINE AMERICAN, AN’ AH WOULD ALLOW HIM T’ BRING ME SCARVES AND WATER ANY DAY.”

“I suppose it could be worse. Could be a Catholic.”

“AH’M WITH YOU ON THAT ONE, MR. PRESIDENT. THEM PAPISTS IS SOME GOOFY GOOBERS.”

“Answerable only to Rome, Elvis. The loyalty of the Catholic is to Rome, not America.”

“WELL, THASS BETTER THAN THIS SOMBITCH WE’RE OVERTHROWIN’! HE ANSWERS T’ MOSCOW.”

“Much worse in every capacity. Politics, weather.”

“AIN’ NOBODY EVER BOUGHT NO RUSSIAN SPORTS CAR.”

“No, no. The Italian is incapable of governing himself or conducting a proper war, but he has style. Nixon never had style, Elvis. They mock me for this, the press. They wanted Kennedy. You know what Jack Kennedy was, King? A haircut with herpes, that’s it. But he had style, which I do not.”

“THASS WHY AH’M GETTIN’ YOU THE BELT BUCKLE. YOU PUT ONE OF THESE ON, AN’ LADIES GONNA START ASKIN’ YOU T’ SIGN THEIR TATAS.”

“I don’t know if Mrs. Nixon will be okay with that, Elvis.”

“SIGN HER TATAS, TOO, NIX. GOTTA SPREAD YER SEXY AROUND.”

“Elvis, let’s concentrate. Is the, uh, Time Cape all charged up? We need to be ready to leave at a moment’s notice.”

“GOOD CALL, MAN. LEMME GET HER UP T’ FULL POWER. HI-YAAH!”

“HI-YAAH!”

“HI-YAAH!”

“Is the Time Cape powered by karate, Elvis?”

“IT IS, NIX. NOTHIN’ GETS BY YOU.”

“Wonderful.”

“WHAT WE WAITIN’ FOR, MAN? AH’M FIXIN’ TO FIX THE 21ST CENTURY.”

“Our naval support, Elvis. They just called, and have upgraded to a faster ship. They should be here any minute.”

“UH-HUH.”

“Is this like the Time War, Billy?”

“Kinda. It’s a Time Coup.”

“Bloodless?”

“Why would they call me if they wanted it to be bloodless?”

“True. Are we getting paid?”

“No.”

“Are you getting paid?”

“Yes.”

“Bill, we’re in Hawaii. How are we gonna get to D.C. by Friday?”

“Precarious is driving the boat.”

“Oh, okay.”

New Year, New Bar Band

As the swallows return to Capistrano, each new year sees Billy molt out of his previous bar band and pupate himself a new one. The redheaded bass player is Reed Richards, and he was in Billy’s last group; his presence in the current ensemble suggests he did not ask for a raise.

Can Jambase and Relix please credit me? I stole this picture fair and square from Benjy Eisen’s Instagram account, so it’s my news. Thank you.

You burying the lede a little, skipper?

Huh?

Is Benjy managing this group?

Oh, God, I hope so.

I hope so for all of us.

An Old Friend Weighs In

jm-mike-gordon

“John, thanks for coming on The Radio Gordo Show.”

“Oh, not you, too.”

“We’re live on SiriusXM, Channel 29.”

“Is that the Phish channel? The Dead has a channel to themselves, so I would assume that Phish does, as well.”

“No, it’s Jam On.”

“Huh.”

“They play us a lot. Like, tons.”

“But also other bands, right? You share the channel with, say, String Cheese Whatevers?”

“Yeah.”

“Chris Robinson Brotherhood?”

“Yup, yup.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“John, let’s take a call.”

“I don’t want to.”

“How are you, caller? We’re speaking to Ben, who is calling from a pay phone.”

“John, big fan. Have you thought about writing a book?”

“I know that gravelly voice. This isn’t Ben.”

benjy-pay-phone

“It’s Benjy, John.”

“Hi, Benjy.”

“You need to write a book! Well, not you. You need to get money for a book that I’ll write, and then give me some of the money and I’ll write the book and live with you.”

“What was that last part?”

“I’ll write the book.”

“Benjy, I’m very busy.”

“This will barely affect you: dictate two hundred pages of skank stories, and I’ll make up all the bullshit about your childhood,  and your inspirations, and all that other bullshit no one reads in rock star books.”

“How much of Billy’s book did you make up?”

“Everything that’s not fucking and fighting is me.”

“Wow. The Healy orgy true?”

“Oh, yeah. 100%. Taped it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, Healy taped it, so it sounds like shit, but there’s a record. Billy made me listen to it.”

“What was that like?”

“Remember the part in Grizzly Man when Werner Herzog listens to the couple getting eaten? Like that, but with squishy noises and male grunting.”

“Ew. Benj, I love ya but I’m not hiring you.”

“Okay, put Mike on the phone.”

“Tell Benjy I’m not here.”

“Mike’s not here, Benjy.”

“Oh, I heard him. You two are jackasses.”

DIAL TONE BECAUSE THAT IS THE SOUND THAT PAY PHONES MAKE

“Doesn’t Benjy usually get murdered?”

“Every time, Mike.”

“Let’s give it a second.”

“Guess not.”

“Yeah, wow. Okay. This is Radio Gordo. We’re back on SiriusXM with John Mayer, who’s backstage at the Phish concert hiding from characters both real and semi-fictional and also a ninja, tripping his ears off, and wearing a unicorn onsesie. John, why do you smell like mustache?”

“Sexually assaulted by Freddies Mercury.”

“I didn’t know that was the pluralization.”

“Neither did I, but I checked with William Safire.”

“Well, if anyone’s gonna know…”

“Right?”

“Mike?”

“John?”

“If you’re here, then who’s playing bass?”

“Shit.”

fishman-bass

“NO! This is NOT RIGHT! The smelly lady plays the drums!”

“Deal with it, Page.”

“Mike?”

“Yeah, John?”

“Should you go do something about this?”

“Nah. I’m gonna let it happen.”

“Why?”

“Page is kinda on my shit list nowadays.”

“Why?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Bill And Benjy (Variations)

bill walton benjy giants

“You’re not an Asian lady, but you couldn’t play professional basketball, either. Not because of the Judaism, though: NBA’s a wildly inclusive place. Lot of great Jewish players. Kareem Abdul Jabbar, for example.”

“Are you sure about that, Bill?”

“Oh, yeah. When he converted to Islam, he marked the wrong box on the form. Checked off ‘Jew’ instead of ‘Muslim.’ No one noticed for a few years. Kareem scored around 5,000 points as a Jew, legally speaking.”

“There’s a form?”

“What’s happening, Benjy? How’s the Summer of Skank going?”

“It’s getting skanky.”

“Well, hence the name.”

“No, skankier than that. Like: the level of skank we started at? We have surpassed that by orders of magnitude at this point. We might be reaching skankuration.”

“That’s skanky.”

“Yeah.”

“What’s caused the escalation?”

“Billy discovered the internet.”

“Oh, the internet is maybe 65% pure skank.”

“Access to skank is unfettered. He’s meeting girls online now.”

“Tinder?”

“Craigslist.”

“Oh, that’s no good.”

“Getting great stories out of it, though. Billy invited a local roller-derby team over the other night to watch the Olympics. They gave him a 4×400 Relay.”

“Was his boner the baton?”

“Yeah.

“He does that every Olympics.”

“Got almost enough material for the book, and then I concentrate on the new Reed Mathis-led Classical Dance Music project, Electric Beethoven, whose debut album is available September 30.”

“Don’t you plug at me, young man.”

“A man has a right to plug, Bill Walton.”

“You two nitwits got a title for the book yet?”

“Couple options: Easy Skanking: Crazy Nights, Hazy Days, and Sticky Bellies on Tour with Dead & Company and other stories.”

“Terrible.”

The Shawskank Redemption.”

“Horrible.”

A Boner’s-Eye View of America.”

“No.”

Summer of Skank: Goin’ In Dry.”

“Ugh.”

Summer of Skank: That’s Not My Thermometer.”

“I know that joke.”

Summer of Skank: Mission to Moscow.”

“I’m walking over there now, Benjy

“Okay, Bill. Can I have my hat back?”

“No.”

Older posts Newer posts
%d bloggers like this: