Sunday, November 20, 2011

Meanwhile, during Easter 2009...

(Changing Room.)

Nigel: I don't believe this! This isn't a changing room, it's a storeroom!
How am I supposed to get in character with servers and computers and
monitors and filing cabinets with special locks? It's going to stifle my

Andrew: Stifle be the operative word. It's hot, isn't it?

Nigel: Dear God, you're right. I'm starting to perspire even as I speak!
Dave, be a tool and get the suit out, will you?

Dave: Wow. Big head.

Nigel: Christ, it's more terrifying than the last one. What's with all those
bits of foam around it?

Andrew: They're part of the suit.

Nigel: Bullshit.

Andrew: They are.

Nigel: I have to wear this? I'll look like a cross between an empty cicada
shell and... and...

Dave: A Slitheen?

Nigel: Yes! No one could score dressed like that!

Andrew: You're the Easter Bunny.

Nigel: Yes. An ancient anglo saxon fertility symbol.

Dave: That's what this suit is for, then.

Nigel: Give me strength. I have to dress up in this fetishistic foam body
suit AND have a fur suit strapped over the top? I thought it would just be a
white fur pyjama set like last time.

Andrew: This is what you get for signing up with professionals.

Nigel: Oh god. The fur alone weighs more than your ego! Oh well...

(He puts the suit on.)

Nigel: (very muffled) How do I look?

Andrew: I struggle to think of an answer that doesn't include "Donnie

Dave: Hang on, what's this?

Andrew: Some kind of harness... full of bottles.

Nigel: What?

Andrew: I think they've given you a belt of drinks.

Dave: Why can't I open them then?

Nigel: Because they're not for drinking you unreliable heathens! They're
freezer packs! Put them in the freezer!

Andrew: OK, OK. They'll be halfway cold in two hours.

Nigel: Good. I survived a seven hour stint at the last place. A two hour
stint in this one-horse mall will be easy.

(One hour later...)

Nigel: Oh god! Face... melting! Internal organs cooking! Must... speak...
in... fragments!

Andrew: The superhuman Verkoff fails again.

Nigel: I had a different suit before. And it was much cooler. That head is
full of foam! I can barely breathe in there, let alone see!

Dave: Your packs aren't frozen yet.

Nigel: Don't care. Give them over.

Andrew: OK. You'll have to take off your suit first...

Nigel: Fuck that. Give them. I'll just shove it down the front and... there.
You see, cooling all ready.

Dave: OK, you ready?

Nigel: (head on) Born ready...

(Half an hour later)

Nigel: God I'm hot. These packs aren't cooling me down at all. Maybe if I...
ah yeah, if I lean back, they fall against my chest. Ah, nice and cool.

Andrew: You know, Dave, the idea strikes me that that harness was designed
for a reason.

Dave: Does it?

Andrew: Indeed it does. Designed to be tied around the torso.

Nigel: You know, come to mention it, I'm feeling a little groggy.

Dave: Lean back more and let the packs work.

Nigel: OK...

Andrew: And it was designed to be tied around the torso for a reason and
presumably not around the neck.

Dave: What's your point?

Nigel: Feeling VERY groggy actually.

Dave: That wearing around the neck is wrong?

Andrew: Think about it. What are the packs cooling down?

Dave: Nigel?

Nigel: Oh, Christ... everything's spinning...

Andrew: The area below Nigel's neck to be precise. Heart and lungs.

Dave: So? The coolth will disperse and cool him all down eventually.

Andrew: Yes, but in the meantime...

Nigel: Ohhhhhhh man... Gonna be sick now...

Dave: In the meantime?

Andrew: His heart will be cooling down, yes?

Dave: Uhuh.

Andrew: But the rest of him is still hot and, presumably getting hotter.

Dave: Uhuh.

Nigel: Agh.... agh... please... oh gof.... can't... breathe...

Andrew: So we have boiling hot blood rushing into a very cold heart.

Dave: Sort of like cold water on a hot tin can.

Andrew: Yep.


(Changing room)

Nigel: Oh... god... heart attack... going to die... never see Planet of the

Dave: You read the Highest Science, didn't you?

Nigel: No... just... synopsis... agh...

Andrew: Oh, get over it. Drink this cold water, stay still and shut the hell

(They leave Nigel on their own. Guard enters.)

Guard: Um. Hi.

Nigel: ...yeah... hi.

Guard: Why are you sitting next to the servers in your underwear?

Nigel: I'm the Easter Bunny.

Guard: ...aaaaaaand?

Nigel: I got the Kalesi Virus! OK?

Guard: Oh. You overheated in suit. Sissy. Oh well, I need to use the

Nigel: And I need the use of my legs. Life's harsh, isn't it?

Guard: Fine. Hold open the door.

Nigel: Um. OK.

Guard: Some silly bitch left her card in an ATM, I got to check the security

Nigel: OK.

(A long hour passes as the guard stands there checking the monitors,
squashed up against Nigel, holding the door open so they can both fit in.
Awkward silence.)

Andrew: You dead yet?

Nigel: Not quite.

Andrew: K. We'll come back later then.

(Another fifteen minutes. Guard finally leaves in disgust.)

Guard: I don't have to put up with this. That cow can suffer.

Nigel: Charming.

Guard: Oh, die already, sissy.


Nigel: Wow. To think I could be so humiliated NOT being dressed as a giant

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