Hello,
I'm Jane Wyatt,
welcoming you to the National Lampoon Radio Hour.
Tonight,
featuring,
in alphabetical order,
Michael Adanio,
Bob Tischler,
John Belushi,
Polly Beer,
Adolph Caesar,
George Coe,
Wendy Craig,
Sydney Davis,
Brian Doyle Murray,
Paul Ginsberg,
Christopher Gastarci-Han,
Janice Hearst,
Judy Jacklin,
Doug Kenney,
Brian McConnachie,
Bob Michelson,
Mary Jennifer Mitchell,
Bob Perry,
Norman Rose,
Stan Sawyer,
Ed Sibitsky,
Vernon Taft,
George W.S.
Trow, and Gracie Whitebread.
And introducing,
stepping on the spaniel,
the dance craze that
swept the nation,
Off the Map,
with music by Joe Raposo,
lyrics by George Trow and myself from the
hit movie, Savages.
Of course,
the situations and characterizations on tonight's show are entirely
fictitious.
Now,
this committee is interested to know as
to why the National Lampoon has waited
so long before releasing this new album,
The Missing White House Tapes.
Well,
Mr. Chairman,
we felt that a full disclosure would
be inoperative until all the facts were
in.
Do you accept the irresponsibility for making it public,
these carefully doctored tapes of political greed
and zippity-doopity arrogance and stupidity?
Yes,
sir,
we do,
except,
of course,
for those portions deleted in the interest of national hilarity.
Oh,
now,
Mr. Mastermasterman Labound,
it would appear that these tapes established
at the present testablement is not guilty.
That is correct.
The Missing White House Tapes show beyond a shadow of a doubt that
if Mr. Nixon was aware of anything that was going on around him,
he was not aware of it.
Now,
tell me this,
how are these whistling Missing White House
Tapes being made available to the public?
Well, the record speaks for itself.
And now,
ladies and gentlemen,
a fireside chat with the President of the United States.
My fellow Americans,
after recent events have unfolded over the Watergate incidents,
I find it both difficult and painful
to come before you on this subject.
This great country of ours is torn, frustrated,
and in a state of chaos due to the
deplorable events of this past year.
As you know,
in several speeches on that subject,
I denied any wrongdoing and that I knew anything at all
about the shocking occurrences surrounding that affair.
Tonight, my fellow Americans,
I have asked for time to come before you in order to fully clear my
soul of the whole matter and to explain to you what really occurred.
By this very admission,
already you have,
I'm sure,
correctly concluded that I have been lying
over the many months since Watergate.
I want to state here and now that I, personally,
erased the 18 minutes of tape and did so over and
over and over until every incriminating piece of
evidence was unable to be reproduced in any form.
Likewise,
I conveniently lost the tapes with more conversations
that might have brought forth accusations.
Everything John Dean has told you is not only true,
but there are far worse things John does not even know,
far worse things that were so cleverly
covered that none of you will ever know.
When
time permits,
I will tell you the details of these other heinous cover-ups,
crimes,
and misdemeanors.
Deplorable malfeasance,
my friends,
that makes the dairy deal,
tax evasion,
and my San Clemente manipulations seem no worse than traffic tickets.
But there is something far more important that I must tell you,
my fellow Americans,
something which I hope will begin to mend
the tear in this great country of ours.
If you can find it in your hearts to forgive me when you hear this,
find it in your hearts to bear with me
and aid me to finish my term of office,
I will be grateful to all of you.
If, however,
after you have heard what I have to say,
it is your wish that I resign,
I will step down from this great office.
Now to the facts.
Last night a most unusual thing occurred.
Beside myself over Watergate,
unable to understand how I had blundered so,
I went to the movies to relax a little.
It was while I was watching the film The Exorcist
that I came to realize that it was not at all
the real Richard Nixon responsible for Watergate.
And so I walked thoughtfully back to the
White House and decided to call an exorcist.
Last night, my friends, in the Oval Office,
this very fine gentleman, a man of the clergy,
put me under a spell.
Sure enough,
he did discover the presence of a demon.
In his clairvoyance,
he said he saw the departure from my
body of the ghost of an old corrupt
politician,
whose name I shall withhold for his family's sake.
The demon is out of me
now and I have come to realize that it was
that which drove me to do all the deplorable
things I have done.
I cannot ask you to condone these unforgivable acts.
I can tell you, however,
that the real Richard Nixon is back and with your blessing,
I would like to continue to
serve out the term for which I was elected,
a term in which I will strive for those political
ideals and goals that the real President Nixon
wishes to achieve.
From New York City,
where a diamond-hard surface of glitter
and froth hides a pulsing miasma
of heartbreak and shame.
From New York City,
where armed debutantes hold the middle classes at bay.
From New York City,
where trust is just a name on a bank,
comes the man who can't keep
a secret,
Mr. Chatterbox and his gossip report to the nation.
This is Mr. Chatterbox reporting from the frontiers of fashion,
where chic never sleeps.
Popular television personality Karen Cupcake is
one of the smart Gothamites who are broadlooming
their fingernails.
A simple painless operation replaces unattractive,
hard-to-care-for nail
tissue with convenient pile carpet.
Couldn't like it more.
Karen considered Swiss *,
but we're glad she picked that beautiful broad loom.
Ohio is one of the first states to put some teeth in fashion law.
Akron city fathers have outlawed open-toed sandals after dark,
plan to toss welfare grandmas in the slam
if they don't perk up their wardrobe.
Couldn't like it more.
Why do people go on and on and on about so-called Mother Nature?
What has she done except give us mosquitoes,
pimples,
and the Jersey meadows?
It's all just hype.
Let's face it,
the credit really belongs to Mother Fashion.
After all,
who gave us the dolman sleeve,
the dirndl skirt,
and yes,
the bolero jacket?
It's time we went back to Mother Fashion,
don't you think?
Or don't you?
Everyone talks about the energy crisis,
but no one does more about it than lovely Mrs. Latham Lothrop,
whose pa put the crimp in bottle caps.
Lovely Elvita Lothrop has bought 400 rotisseries for her bedroom,
runs them night and day,
even though she can't stand the smell of cooking meat.
Couldn't like it more.
It's unpatriotic,
no doubt,
but we just can't bring ourselves to
scold glamorous Mrs. Latham Lothrop.
It's time to dump those boring metal spiders.
When will people learn that classic fashion consists of
restrained good taste with a healthy dollop of common sense?
Sneezing,
the louder the better,
is the very latest thing around town.
Peter Duchin sneezes over breakfast,
Mia Farrow does it when she calls her ma,
everyone does it between dinner and dessert.
Couldn't like it more.
Some socialites are sticking ragweed down their cleavage to
up their output of fashionable attention-getting sneezes.
Some socialites are having trouble
vacuuming their stupid broad loom nails.
Serves them right,
I shouldn't have told you,
but Mr. Chatterbox can't keep a secret.
Maria Callas says she's worried about the
nasty turn of events in her hometown of Kabul,
Afghanistan.
La Callas,
wherever she is,
remains a devoted,
devoted Afghani.
Lavender-flavored margarine making
a big hit at some Midtown eateries.
Emil Durkheim,
birthdaying with Carol Schopenhauer at La Cote Boring.
Colorful Rome, still the Eternal City.
This is Mr. Chatterbox signing off.
Do try to mix with a better class of people,
won't you?
And you,
Bess Meyerson-Grant,
you ought to keep your hands to yourself,
don't you think?
Or don't you?
Uh,
hi.
Excuse me, um,
is this where they keep the frozen bodies?
That's right.
What can I do for you?
Well, I'd
like to thaw my grandfather out.
You see,
I'm getting married and I want him to attend the wedding.
Then you can freeze him again afterwards.
Well, when do you need him for?
Well, the wedding's tonight.
Tonight?
I don't think you're going to get him thawed out by tonight,
buddy.
Oh, gee, I really want him there.
See,
he'd never forgive me if I didn't thaw him out.
He told me even if he's still a little frozen,
he wants to be at the head table.
Well, it's all right.
When I get him home,
I can put him under a sun lamp or on the radiator or something.
All right, buddy, it's your funeral.
Uh, what's the last name?
Robinson.
Uh, Robinson, Robinson, okay.
L. Lawson.
M. N. O. Olson.
P. Prentiss.
Q. R. R. R. Robeson.
Ah, Robinson, here you are.
Let me see here now.
This here your grandfather?
Oh, well, no, I'm afraid not, no.
This here your grandfather?
Uh, no, no, he's smaller than that.
Yeah, you're lucky.
That one's frozen solid.
How about this one?
Gee, no.
Look, here's a picture of him.
Maybe that would help.
Well, you look through these.
There's another Robinson refrigerator.
Yeah, yeah, okay.
Oh, my gosh!
Louie!
Louie!
What do you want?
I'm having my coffee break.
Oh,
somebody pulled out the plug in the other Robinson refrigerator.
Well, it wasn't me.
Who did it?
Everyone is spoiled here.
What did you say?
Ah,
some joint pulled out the plug in his freezer.
Hey, Louie!
Everything's melted here.
There's water all over the place.
Look, all these people were good.
Now I've got to throw them out.
Look,
you don't mean my grandfather is spoiled,
do you?
Yeah, if he's in here, he's spoiled.
Oh, my goodness.
Well, can I take a look?
No, no, he's not here.
He's not here.
I've got to throw out all these people here.
Look, he's not here.
He's not in the other one either.
Let me see that picture.
Not here.
Not here.
I don't see him here.
Oh, there he is.
Where?
He fell down behind.
Now he's stuck to the freezer pipe, see?
Oh, good, good.
Let's get him.
Hey, be careful, huh?
His clothes are sticking to the ice.
Oh.
Sorry, buddy.
I guess I broke them.
You are listening to the National Lampoon Radio Hour.
We
don't need no blackbirds to bye-bye,
or hooty owls to ask us who or why.
Wallabies and sheep need not apply.
All we want are sleeping dogs that lie.
Forgive us all,
you ASPCA. We're going through a most distressing phase.
Now, bourgeois boxers, even old dog trays,
are victims of our very latest craze.
We're stepping on the spine,
you'll fall in awful luck.
Syncopated and you'll be putting on the dog.
No difference if it's pedigreed or a mutt,
I know.
It doesn't matter when you're doing that strut.
Hi-ho.
Stepping on a spaniel, it's on the up and up.
Syncopated and you'll be pouncing on a puff.
Close your eyes and give those guys a big
smooch right now as you're jumping up and
down and stepping on the pooch by a wall.
I'm June's pesky little sister, Penny.
Please help me find my breath.
June's pesky little sister, Penny.
I like to watch TV.
This
is a public disservice message from the National Lampoon Radio Hour.
When you're on a camping trip, have a good time.
And don't worry unnecessarily about
forest fires.
Remember,
forest fires were raging long before man ever came on the scene
and there are still plenty of woods around.
Ladies and gentlemen,
the Persian Room proudly presents
The Moil of Oil, The Guy That Cut It Off,
the comedy stylings of King Faisal.
Thank you, thank you very much.
Take my wives, please.
Hey, no, but seriously.
I like this outfit.
I lost weight.
These are fitted sheets.
Hey, watch it.
I'm a prince.
Hey, I got my flying carpet.
It's well to well.
I just got through playing the Sands.
Check your oil.
Hey, watch it.
Where I come from, we cut your tongue out.
Hey, my kingdom for a camel.
Well, a Marlboro would do.
Hey, I'm dying up here.
Hey, what do you want?
Lawrence of Arabia?
Hey, I'm a prince.
I'm a prince.
At the tone from the time you called,
you will have exactly 10 seconds less remaining in your life.
At the tone from the time you called,
you will have exactly 20 seconds less remaining in your life.
At the tone from the time you called,
you will have exactly half a minute less remaining in your life.
At the tone from the time you called,
you will have exactly 40 seconds less remaining
in your life.
Alright soldier,
just lie still so you don't disturb that plasma tube.
Hello son, I'm Dr. Norman Vincent Peale.
Oh yes,
Dr. Peale.
You probably recognize me from the pictures on my books.
Perhaps you've read a few of them.
Oh, yeah.
Are you surprised to see me here in a Vietnam Veterans Hospital?
Oh yes, yes.
Well son, tell me, how are you feeling?
Oh,
not too good.
Ah, you see,
that's where you have your negative thinking cap on.
I'm going to tell you a little story, son.
When I was a young clergyman,
I was on a train one night on my way
to an arena to deliver a lecture.
It was to be in front of a huge crowd,
thousands and thousands of people.
Well, a young man came over to me and he said,
Dr. Peale,
you know,
I would like your advice on something.
I'm going to sing for the church
tonight in front of all these people,
and I'm so doggone nervous I don't know what to do.
So I said to him,
I said,
son,
did you ever think of taking Jesus into your heart?
And you know what?
He did just that.
He took Jesus right into his heart,
and he was not just good that night,
he was great!
Son?
Son?
Hello,
son.
I'm Dr. Norman Vincent Peale.
Oh, yes, Dr. Peale.
And now,
the National Lampoon Radio Hour presents another great moment in
black history.
Chapter 17,
George Washington Carver,
father of the American peanut.
The
time was 1864. The place,
a log schoolhouse in Cothage,
Missouri.
There, a black boy,
George Washington Carver was born the son of slaves.
Sold for a horse valued at $300,
young George later went on to study botany and soil analysis.
By his death in 1943,
Carver
had discovered over 300 different uses for the lowly peanut,
and played an important role in
reconstructing the South's war-ravaged economy.
Thus it was that the Wizard of Tuskegee gave new
life to an exhausted land,
and by freeing the South from King Cotton,
raised the American peanut,
once considered that useless,
dichotliginous darky,
to its rightful place beside its fellow
nuts,
fruits,
and vegetables.
Go down, Moses,
way down in Egypt land.
Tell old Pharaoh,
let my peanuts go.
Who's there?
Why
hello there, Goobah.
Well,
as you can plainly see,
I was trying to find some new uses for the dumb old peanut.
Oh, you know, you better hurry.
Dean Jackson say if you don't come up with something soon,
he's gonna ask for his horse back.
Hush now, boy.
Can't you see I was busy?
Here,
make yourself useful and help me connect these here electrodes.
Okay, but how come?
You see,
Goobah,
it am I theory that if I runs a powerful electricity
current through this here bushel of peanuts,
like so,
it'll produce a cheap and efficient source
of illumination for home and industry,
ten times as bright as these old-fashioned kerosene lamps.
In smoking, Mr. Carver.
In fact,
Goobah,
it am I believe that this adventure,
which I call the George Washington Carver Electronical Light Peanut,
will someday be applied to many other uses.
In smoking, Mr. Carver.
Such as the electricity phono peanut and the
electricity long-distance direct dial and tele peanut.
Boy, it's gonna go.
Hush now, boy.
I knows it sounds like a lot of scientific mumbo-jumbo now.
But I predict that by the year 2000,
man will have put a peanut on their moon.
Uh-oh.
Oh,
there you are.
Here,
I just got this here butcher basket off your head.
No worry about the basket, boy.
Just help me get these peanuts out of my nose.
Okay,
but Dean Jackson say he'd rather you got them out of your head first.
Now, don't you get up there, boy.
Just the pepper.
I should have left him at Zoom where he belong.
Here you go, Mr. C. I got the pepper.
Hey,
what's this here squishy stuff all over the place?
Now, don't worry about that.
That's just a little mush of peanuts.
Kind of slippery, too.
Maybe it make a good floor polish.
Anyway,
give me that pepper, boy.
Okay.
There you go.
Now, take a good snort.
That's right, Mr. C. You got it.
Get down on it.
Am-choo!
Holy Moses!
Gosh.
Face first, right down in all that mush.
Mr. Carver, you all right?
Where are they?
Where are they?
Where is that?
Well, come on, let me out of here.
Which way that go?
Hey, look, Mr. Carver.
Why don't you just cool it for a while?
Or maybe try inventing something easier like a paperweight.
Hey, you mean quit?
Never.
I has a dream, goobah.
I know there's a secret locked in that old peanut shell.
Lies gots to cracks it.
Well,
you could use them as nose plugs
if you don't eat them after.
Say, goobah,
why don't you buzz off into the kitchen
for some num-nums while I cleans up this mess here.
Hey, hmm, you know this stuff ain't bad at all.
Well, okay, Mr. C.
I guess I could use a sauerkraut and
jelly sandwich or something anyway.
Are you wanting me to make you one?
Well, hold on there, boy.
What you just say?
I just said I was gonna go out and make me a sauerkraut.
I know, I know.
But here, goobah, try a gob of this.
Hey,
you all right.
Boy, this sure is yummy.
What do you call this stuff?
Call it?
Hmm, well, uh, why,
peanut oleo, of course.
George Washington Carver's Electricity
Peanut Oleo.
Here, now, give me some of that.
Hmm, yummy.
Jive, that's good.
Yummy in my tummy.
And so it was that peanut oleo was born.
Yes, peanut oleo, destined to become a staple
of American lunchboxes for over 50 years.
Peanut oleo,
the brown gold that rebuilt the South
and discovered by a black man.
Another National Lampoon Radio Hour great moment in black history.
And this is only the beginning, boy.
Why,
I bet that a peanut would make a great bookmark.
You can't read.
And that wobbly table over there.
Ah,
hmm,
if I could just slip the rat's eyes
peanut under that little short leg.
Well, I can see it now, goobah.
Peanut brittle,
peanut clusters,
peanut squares,
peanut radios, peanut powered locomotive.
That is admittedly a little raw even for us.
So a word to the wise.
Doug Kenny's X-rated photo funnies of the
air and our latest country and Western song.
If the cops ever dusted your body,
they'd find the fingerprints of every guy in town.
So now this committee is interested
to know as to why the National Tampoon
Repair and Rational Harpoon National Lampoon was
waited so long before releasing this new album.
The Hissing Whitewash.
Well, the missing White House tapes.
Well,
Mr. Chairman,
we felt that a full disclosure would be
inoperative until all the facts were in.
But now,
do you accept the irresponsibility for making it public,
these carefully doctored tapes of political greed
and zippity-doopity arrogance and stupidity?
Yes, sir, we do.
Except,
of course,
for those portions deleted in the interest of national hilarity.
Oh,
now,
Mr. National Lampoon,
it would appear that these tapes established that
the President's potential abandonment is not guilty.
That is correct.
The missing White House tapes show beyond a shadow of a doubt that
if Mr. Nixon was aware of anything that was going on around him,
he was not aware of it.
Well, the record speak...
the record speaks for itself.
With Vaudevillian Frank Crumet singing
Nettie's The Nitwit of the Networks.
And let me just remind you that both the situations
and characterizations in this show are fictitious.
Now,
this committee is interested to know as
to why the National Tampoon Repair and
Messiner.
Hm?
And Councillor Latham accepts the full
disclosure four flags for themselves,
Mr. Milton Saffie.
It would appear that these tapes established at the present test
abatement is not guilty.
That is correct.
The missing White House tapes show
beyond a shadow of a doubt that if Mr. Nixon was aware of anything that was
going on around him he was not aware of it.
Well now tell me this man, how
would these whistling missing White
House tapes be made available to the
Pell Republic?
Well the record speak,
the record speaks for itself.
Now as a public service,
the National Lampoon Radio Hour presents the Rorschach
Test of the Air,
a special test to enable our listeners to diagnose their own
psychological problems and determine whether or not they should seek
professional counseling.
To take the test all you need is a radio,
a pencil,
and a
piece of paper.
Here's how it works.
We'll play six different sounds for you.
Each sound has been deliberately
blurred by special technical equipment.
You
simply write down what you think the
sounds represent and we'll tell you how
to judge your interpretations.
Ready?
Here is sound number one.
Now score yourself on sound number one.
If you thought it sounded like a traffic jam,
you are a frustrated person whose desires,
specifically ***ual ones,
are all jammed up.
If you thought it sounded like hundreds of
light switches going on and off at once,
you are an aggressive personality who should be
able to make a small fortune as a door-to-door
salesman, but you do need to lose some weight.
Finally, if you thought it sounded like a fire
engine racing toward a fire,
you're a latent arsonist with a psychopathic personality and
you are likely to end up spending your
days in prison or in a mental institution.
Now here is sound number two.
Now score yourself on sound number two.
If you thought it sounded like a bunch of animals in a
zoo,
you're a frustrated person whose animal instincts,
specifically ***ual ones,
are carefully
kept under lock and key.
If you thought it sounded like a pencil being sharpened,
you have a logical
mind and you should consider a career in accounting.
If you thought it sounded like
a bunch of animals roaming freely through a jungle,
you are a latent psychopath with
hyper-aggressive tendencies and you are likely
to end up spending your days in prison or
in a mental institution.
Listen,
listen,
my friend,
could you do me a favor and play some...
Excuse me, excuse me, just a minute.
Take another chorus, Charlie, right.
Yes, sir, what is it, sir?
Listen,
could you do me a favor and play a nice Jewish song for us?
Well,
we're going to play a lot of nice tunes later on,
sir.
I can't leave the stand now.
I can't talk to you while we're playing.
Well,
all night long it's just this progressive jazz here.
My daughter's been married.
We're having a simcha here.
What is this?
Well,
you know,
we're playing all different kinds of music.
Yeah,
you don't play nothing but this,
whatever it is here.
We're playing a lot of birds tunes.
We'll be running to gammons.
We'll go to classics.
Play a nice freylich.
I want to take my relatives here.
We want to get to a kazatski.
We want to do something nice here.
You like monk tunes.
Yeah, well, we'll play some of those later on.
No,
we want a Jewish play,
like something like...
You know this?
It's a nice change.
Look,
we're going to be having a session after we get done with the gig
and if you could kind of scat a little bit of that to the piano man.
I think we could really groove on that.
Yes, but right now,
we'd really like...
We don't understand this music here.
A nice Jewish waltz would be nice.
Well, it's not...
Listen to it.
Schleumel, schleumel...
Yeah, well,
man,
you know,
we get these gigs through the office and they
hire us to play the sounds as we see fit.
That's my very bad heart.
Don't aggravate me, please.
Yeah, well, I'm not trying to aggravate you.
I'm just trying to play the gig like in the book of sounds.
All right, all right, all right.
Have it your way.
Do you know Night in Tunisia?
Ba-do-de-de-do,
do-de-de-da,
ba-do-de-de-do-de-do-de-do...
If
you thought that sounded anything like a bee buzzing,
you have one of the most disgusting,
nauseating complexes known to modern psychology.
I can't even bring myself to tell you what it is,
let alone describe it to you,
but I will say this.
We don't want any sickening creeps like you listening to our program.
So just unplug your radio and get out of the room.
For the decent,
normal people who are still listening,
here is sound number five.
Hi there, baby.
Weren't you in my Spanish class in junior high?
Flake off, Chester.
Oh, come on, kid.
I'm in town on a convention.
Stick with me and you won't be sorry.
Says who?
Says me.
You got some dough?
Sure, kid.
I'd be glad to drop a wad on a classy number like you.
What you got in mind?
Well,
we'll do the town,
baby,
like you've never done it before.
Maybe, baby, but first I gotta see how you kiss.
Not bad, baby.
Try me again.
Okay, baby.
You do know your stuff.
I'll tell you what,
forget the town and let's do my apartment instead.
It's right down the block.
Reet.
Reet.
What you
just heard was actually a word-for-word
recitation of the Gettysburg Address,
speeded
up slightly.
If you thought you heard anything else,
you have deep psychological problems
relating to the nature of what you heard.
This is a public disservice message
from the National Lampoon Radio Hour.
Should you ever find that a local merchant has overcharged you,
misrepresented his product or service,
or defrauded you in any way,
don't report him to your local Better Business Bureau.
Unfortunately,
there are a lot of crazy people in the world today,
and he might just end up coming after you with a gun.
I need someone to live with me,
to keep my bed warm and keep my shorts clean.
I need a maid to give for free.
And so patches on my jeans.
I dreamed I saw my cowgirl housewife.
I was driving in my pickup through LA.
I want to love you while I can, baby.
Before I become an old man.
Southern California brings me down.
Southern California brings me down.
Southern California brings me down.
Some place to go.
Oh,
North Ontario.
It's safer than Alabama.
It's safer than Ohio.
Gonna go home now, where I can grow old
with the cowgirl of my dreams.
I'm gonna stay stoned now.
Just stare out my basement window and scream.
Southern California brings me down.
You won't see me around no more.
How often have you said to yourself,
gee,
I wish I owned everything in the
world and could do anything I wanted.
And if people weren't very,
very nice to me,
I could have them killed.
Well, now you can.
And here's Gloria O'Conn to tell you how.
This kind of book burns best.
We took our microphones to a typical ritual book burning in Drake,
North Dakota to find out.
Excuse me, Mr. Spencer, Ed Spencer.
Well,
Mr. Spencer,
I noticed that you're just putting the torch
to a copy of the National Lampoon's new book,
This Side of Parodies.
What makes this particular book worth burning?
Well, I'll tell you.
Price, first of all.
You've got burning some $75 Andrew Wyatt art book,
A Fortune Up In Smoke,
right?
Right.
But This Side of Parodies only sent me back a buck and a half.
Cheaper than fuel oil these days.
Of course.
But Mr. Spencer,
surely the content of the book is what you're burning.
Content?
Definitely.
This book burns clean.
Not like Ivanhoe.
Your average Ivanhoe smokes and smolders something awful.
Yeah,
but Mr. Spencer,
I mean the subject matter of the book.
Isn't that why you burn it?
Right.
Sure.
I like to burn your spicy authors, basically.
Your Jackson Suzanne,
Oscar Wilde,
Kate Millett,
James Joyce,
your Mickey Spillane.
And there are parodies of all these guys in here.
So you would recommend the National Lampoon's
This Side of Parodies to other book burners?
Absolutely.
Thank you, Mr. Spencer.
Well, you heard it here first.
National Lampoon's This Side of Parody.
On sale now.
Wherever paperbacks are burned, or sold.
This is George Trow,
chairman of your State Commission on Humor Rights,
with another informative
bulletin on your rights as a humor consumer.
Under Title I,
Section A of the Humor Rights Act of 1967,
your employer may be punished by a fine,
imprisonment,
or both if he attempts to interfere
with your right to smile,
giggle,
smirk,
laugh,
or grimace with humorous intent on the job.
For our free booklet,
No Laughing Matter,
write George Trow,
State Commission on Humor Rights,
635 Madison Avenue,
New York,
New York.
And now,
the National Lampoon Radio Hour presents,
Laughs from the Past.
In the old Virginia mountains lived a gal named Nettie Gray.
And Nettie was a numbskull, you can bet.
Her pa and ma and kinfolk wanted to give her away,
but no one wanted any truck with Nett.
For she was stupid,
she was goofy,
and she rambled wild and free,
until one day a stranger
hit the hills.
He was a radio comedian with no more sense than she,
and he lured her with a bunch of
dollar bills.
Now, Nettie is the nitwit of the networks.
She's goofy still, but also dirty rich.
Toward the bug house they were shoving her,
now she earns more than the governor.
Oh, Nettie is the nitwit of the networks.
When the hill folks of Virginia first heard that Nett was gone,
they said, thank goodness we are rid of her.
We'd hate to have to put her in the bug house all her life,
but folks like Nett is what bug houses are for.
Oh,
the old Virginia hills,
they were quiet for a spell.
No more they heard poor Nettie's goofy crow.
But alas,
the stillness one night was shattered with a crash,
and there was Nett upon the radio.
Now, Nettie is the nitwit of the networks,
and her folks all wished that they were crazy too.
She lived on cheese and crackers,
now she earns a million smackers.
For Nettie is the nitwit of the networks.
This brings us to our final test of the evening.
But before we play it,
I must warn each of our listeners.
This test contains material of a distinctly prurient nature,
material that doubtlessly goes further than
anything you have ever heard on the radio before.
We assure you,
however,
that it does have a valid psychological purpose.
Listen carefully.
Here it is.
If you heard what you think you heard,
you're absolutely right.
And despite the nature of the material,
the fact that you heard it at all indicates a healthy,
willing to face it attitude towards ***.
If,
however,
you are one of the listeners who heard nothing,
you have an excessively prudish
mind,
one that totally rejected material and refused
even to let it enter your consciousness.
This is an indication of deep ***ual hostilities,
and you are likely to end up spending your
days in prison or in a mental institution.
This ends the National Lampoon Radio Hour
Rorschach Test of the Air.
Good evening.
We are very happy to have in the studio today with us
the 19-year-old perfect master from Champaign-Urbana in Illinois,
Mr. Greg Baker.
We were Craig Baker.
Craig, not Greg.
Craig Baker.
A lot of people get that mixed up.
I have a brother named Greg.
My name's Craig.
C-R-A-I-G.
Craig.
Craig.
Craig Baker.
Skipper.
That's a beautiful name.
And where did you happen to come from this nickname of Skipper?
A beautiful country up there as well.
It's great.
And he's got a sailboat.
And every once in a while I'd get
by the wheel and I'd steer the boat.
And they started calling me Skipper.
And it sort of stuck after a while.
It kind of stuck, right.
Well, it's a very beautiful name.
You call me Craig or Skipper.
I don't care.
Skipper or Greg or whatever I feel in my mind.
You know, it's very interesting.
But in Kashmir,
where I come from,
of course,
Skipper has a translation in English.
But anyway, we will come back to that later.
Okay.
What I want to talk to you about
first of all is that since a year ago,
since you've
been here, you went to India.
Yes, I did.
I went to India.
Right.
Well,
what please tell to me is what is your
impression of our beautiful country?
It's awful.
Just terrible.
People are starving and dirty.
You can't get a can of beer.
Your
life depended on it.
Well, what else are some observations that
you did not like about India?
Dysentery.
And I couldn't eat.
Could you
eat Indian food?
Yes, well, every night I do.
I eat curry and stuff.
Oh,
man, you can have it.
All these cows roaming around all over the place.
They'd rather starve than eat a cow.
You know that?
I did not know that.
But where did you stay when you were in India?
Where I stay?
I stayed at a friend's house.
What kind of friend was it?
Was he a rich man or a poor man?
He's a tabla player.
He plays the drums.
Yes, tabla.
He's pretty good, you know.
He's no Ravi Shankar or anything, but he's okay.
So you did not like the country.
You thought it was awful.
It's terrible over there.
I'm very sorry to hear that.
Well, was I glad to get back here, man.
I'm very sorry to hear that.
First thing I did is I went to Wisconsin.
Take some time off, you know.
Get some fresh air.
I can understand that.
Some sailing in.
Yes, well, no, something happened, of course.
The bars up there are great.
You can drink when you're 18 up there in Wisconsin.
No ID?
Yeah, well, you have to have an ID,
you know, if you're 18.
That sounds very good.
In other states,
you can drink when you're 18,
but that's only like 3-2 beer.
You ever had 3-2 beer?
I have a funny story about 3-2.
It's awful.
You ever been in Milwaukee?
What?
You ever been in Milwaukee?
I was in Milwaukee once, but I don't remember.
Oh, isn't that awful?
Don't ever go there, man.
I was not there long enough to say to myself,
my god,
I don't like it.
There's nothing happening in Milwaukee.
Nothing happening.
I got some good beer there.
You can go through the plants there and get beer for free.
All
those big beer factories.
At the end of the tour, they give you free beer.
Boy, we go there
and just guzzle that beer.
My little boy, he's 10 years old,
he went into the factory
and he said,
my daddy,
my daddy,
that's what he called me.
My daddy, I am Vaco.
I'm Vaco.
That's what he was saying, but he was drunk.
I got blasted.
Blasted, yes.
Well, anyway,
what I'm trying to say to you now is that
during this year that you was not here,
you
were away for a year,
you come back now and here you are.
I'd like to say to you, somebody
threw a pie in your face.
Oh, yeah.
That was only news, because I saw it.
What happened?
Well,
a couple of jocks from Teak came over one
time and they threw this pie in my face.
Well, that must have disturbed you very much.
I don't think it was very funny.
It wasn't
even a real pie.
It was menthol shaving cream.
I had my eyes open and it stung my eyes.
Must
have burned your eyes.
Boy,
if I find those guys,
I've got to pound them.
Well, that is
a miracle.
Oh, yeah.
Right.
On our show,
you did one last time and I said to myself,
oh,
my goodness gracious,
my tummy felt so good after the last one.
I'm hoping I can eat this one.
OK, this is one.
Now, you notice I have now I'm holding this up.
You see, yes.
Would you describe it for us?
This is two pieces of white bread.
Yes. OK,
I'm going to put them in these two little slots here and there.
Right.
Now I just push this down.
Right.
OK. Now we have to wait
a little while.
How long do we wait?
Oh, just wait a couple of minutes.
It should be OK.
I'm going to rush it a little bit.
Let me push this.
OK, see what I don't think.
You know, it's brown.
I can hardly believe it.
Brown.
This is what I call a perfect toastmaster.
That is I cannot believe it is one of
the most amazing things I've ever seen.
I can do this all day long.
You can.
May I please to have the question of please to taste it.
You know, it's good.
It's peanut butter and toast.
It's terrific.
It is.
May I taste it just to see what it is like,
especially when it's hot?
Oh, my goodness.
This is Nirvana.
Oh, goodness me.
Put peanut butter on that and you go nuts.
Really?
I got to get I got to get to a Russian history class.
I can't stay very long.
You ever take Russian history?
No, I'm sorry to say I never.
Hey, listen, I got to ask you something.
And by all means, you know,
you hear about Catherine the Great.
Yes. You know,
is that true what they say about her,
the way she died?
A kind of bizarre death,
you know,
I'm sure I do not know.
With a donkey and a horse on top.
I know the story you are referring to,
excuse me to say,
but I don't know
if it was true or not, because I was not there.
Oh,
anyway,
listen,
I want to tell everybody right now what I've learned
about human beings and everyone else.
Please to sum up in a year what you have learned.
Well,
I've learned that you're just like the other guy.
He puts his pants on one leg at a time.
Thank you very much, Mr.
Skipper Baker of Champaign Urbana.
Champaign Urbana, right.
Yes. And thank you for coming to our studio.
And I hope we can make this an annual thing for us.
Thank you.
I'd like to say goodbye now.
So Bhagavad Gita.
Okay.
If you have some peanut butter,
we can put it on the coast.
Yes. Why don't we do that?
Give me the thing.
Hello,
this is Michael O'Donoghue.
And before we return with part two of
tonight's National Lampoon Radio Hour,
I'd just like to warn our listeners that we've had some reports
that certain stations aren't playing the second half of the show.
And the one station has even gone so far as to claim that
we've switched over to being only a half an hour long.
Now,
I don't know who they think they're kidding.
The show is called the National Lampoon Radio Hour.
Of course,
the unfortunate thing is that we put all the good stuff,
the really funny things and the weird
bits and the more hard hitting stuff.
And even the so-called material of an
adult nature in the last half of the show.
In any case,
listen,
I didn't mean to go on about this.
Let me just say,
don't let these radio stations push you around.
Okay.
And well, enough said.
We'll return right after this word from our sponsor.
Now,
this committee is interested to know as to why the
National Lampoon was waited so long before releasing it.
Well,
Mr. Chairman,
we felt that a full disclosure would be
inoperative until all the facts were in.
Yes,
sir, we do.
Except,
of course,
for those portions deleted in the interest of national hilarity.
Now,
Mr. National Lampoon,
it would appear that these tapes established at the present
test of bailment is not guilty.
That is correct.
The missing White House tapes show
beyond a shadow of a doubt that if Mr.
Nixon was aware of anything that was going on around him,
he was not aware of it.
Well, the record speaks for itself.
Hong Kong quite wobbles the goose.