| Shut Up Karl - Episode 2 |
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****************************************************************** "Shut Up Karl" - A 'Boring mumbling waste a shit' epic in 3 mails. ****************************************************************** SCENE...The dingy corner at the back of L208, viewed through a telephoto lens from a building a distance away. A figure can be seen entranced at a flickering screen, occasionally typing, or laughing, or yawning. Suddenly, the silent whiteout explosion of a flash grenade momentarily obliterates the view. The confused figure has no time to gather his thoughts before he is rushed by a team of body-armoured assault troops with mirror-visored helmets. A black hood is seen to be jammed over his head, and he is bundled away from the terminal, and out of view. Barely seven seconds have passed. SCENE...A shabby, hastily-adapted courtroom. A hodded and hand- cuffed figure is led in, to jeering from an unsightly crowd of skinny and fat, sweaty young men, all with glasses, pale faces, sporting 'I'm the one your mother warned you about' t-shirts who entirely occupy the public gallery. The figure is moved into the dock, whereupon an official, the court security aka Ken Maher, dressed in police gear, removes the hood, revealing the defendant as Karl Podesta, 1st year Computer Applications student, and Redbrick addict. The jeering intensifies as the defendant looks around in disgust. The judge takes his seat. He is Andrew Phillips. ANDY : You are charged that from the 26th of September 1998, you did wilfully conspire with yourself to unlawfully spout ridiculous nonsense from that day forward throughout Dublin City University, "a real college, really", and most especially to fellow students, most notably those from the school of Computer Applications, and to a phenomenal extent on 'Redbrick', the networking society, thus annoying people and making them think that you're complete and utter wierdo and nerd, and making them wish that you'd, and I quote "shut the fuck up Karl". Furthermore, you are charged that during this period, you did dilebrately and with malice aforethought attempt to facilitate this aim by ignoring all occurences of the above mentioned phrase in everyday conversation with these people, people in general, including lecturers and shit. This offence carries the death penalty. How do you plead? KARL : Not guilty, fatty. ANDY : You will address the bench as "Your Honour and all powerful overlord". KARL : Fatty, your honour overlord thingy, whatever. ANDY : Council for the prosecution, you may cross-examine the witness. (A member of the extensive prosecution council consisting of 3 of those who are referred to as "the students" steps to the bench. He is Patrick O'Reilly III. He walks up and down in front of the witness, occasionally stopping to look at the witness, the rest of the time looking upwards in a distinguished manner. After about a minute of this, it appears that he starts to feel a little dizzy and nauseous, and appears to have decided to stop and start asking some questions. He walks to the witness bench and slams both arms down on it, and rests his hands on the front table). PAT : 30,500 and 2 letters!...All addressed to Santa Claus!... You will explain yourself mister, if that _is_ your real name, or I should just quit right now.... ANDY : Order! Pat, that was yesterday's trial - when we sentenced 400 children to death for believing in Santa Claus. I demand (pause) that you get with the times moe. PAT : My name's not moe. ANDY : Whoever the fuck you are, just pass it along kid.. (He points at Pat as he says this, then bangs his mace-like noisy thing on his desk twice, and onto a purposely placed copy of 'The Bible for people who could'nt give a toss'). PAT : haha - 'pass'. Anyway...em...'Karl'..yeah, that's it... is it true then, or is it not, that we, as students of CA and members of Redbrick, have heard unbelieveable em... SHITE since the end of September? KARL : Very much so. Only a deluded fool would claim otherwise. Mmmm....wood clams otherwise... PAT : And so, is it also true then, that this shite has primarily come from one source? KARL : Yeah, food is good. PAT : Yes, if you don't talk shit when people are trying to eat it and otherwise of course. KARL : Now how can I talk shite when other people are eating it? That does'nt just make any sense you fetid piece of carp. When there's food in one's mouth, people can't talk, so how can I talk shit when other people are eating? eh? eh? Purple monkey dishwasher. (Pat stares at the witness, solemnly and blankly. He replies sharply, without changing his facial expression). PAT : Yes. (He nods). Yes. But you're confusing us. You're supposed to talk normal. It's what other people do. KARL : And so if everyone jumped off a cliff, would you do it too? PAT : I'll ask the questions here. So. Then. Then so. So then. So. If you don't talk shit, where the (and he gestures here) HELL does it come from? KARL : Cor Blimey chappie, that's a gubbin - how much time 'ave you got? PAT : I SAID I'LL ASK THE QUESTIONS. ANDY : Order! Order! There'll be no talking like a nineteenth centuary cockney boot flack in my makeshift courtroom! (He bangs wildly on that bibley book thing). (Everyone in the room stares at him). ANDY : Sorry, I quite like that. Anyway - get on with it. Pat, for fuck sake man, shit down - let somone else from the prosecution bench have a go. PAT : Do I still get laid? ANDY : (Pause) Don't you mean paid? PAT : (Pause) No. ANDY : (Longer pause) Conor - get up here. (Patrick O'Reilly III takes his place on the prosecution bench, and in his place, steps another member of the prosecution council, and indeed, "the students" steps up to question the witness. He is Conor O'Kane. Dressed in an armani suit, he has a distinctive yellow and black rain jacket thingy draped over it. He takes the floor, and while there, opens a bag of pistachio nuts. He eats or 'nibbles' on about 4 of them). CONOR : Hey, I just realised, I don't like these anymore. Ugh. (he keeps hold of the bag, but has refrained from consuming them). Right then Karl, what made you do it? the lies, the videotapes, the nonsense that no-one can understand that you say every day..I mean..heh...come on.. (he looks at the floor, and makes a gesturing sign with his shoulders)..what's that all about? KARL : (sings) It's all about Souuul...oh oh ohhhh..it's all about pain and deeper emotion...it's all about soul.. yeah...it's all... CONOR : Agh! He's Singing! ANDY : (bangs 3 times) Ok, ok, who let him have the Billy Joel record? (Ken, court security guy, stands with his arms folded and sinister look on his face near the judge's bench. He looks mean yeah. Beside him on the table, is funLiam, also part of the security unit. Every time Ken comes into the picture and we see him, we find our view drifting towards the shiny Thermos exterior of funLiam, until someone else from the floor talks). KEN : You let him have it - you gave it to him, remember? ANDY : Oh yeah, aw, fuck that, just get him to shut up, I have to be outa here sometime today y'know - I have to be up early tomorrow to go to the square and kick some homeless people. then I have to go into Burger King and slag some old school-mates - just get him to shut up! (he bangs twice, which seems to ironically or not, stop Karl from singing, which he was doing up to now). CONOR : Hey! I was listenin to that - it had a good bass beat. ANDY : No-one cares about your stupid bass beat. CONOR : Aww. Hey, y'know, I got this real thicko on the lines yesterday, she thought by suscribing to AOL, she'd actually be able to surf the internet! Anyway, I was really pissed off, and started reading the Independent. Did you know that some guy in Paraguay swollowed a 2 tonne orange whole? Man that musta been sore. ANDY : You're out of order. CONOR : Well I am out of nuts anyway (looks at his empty pistachio nut packet, unawares that they had all fallen out onto the ground while he was cross-examining). ANDY : No, order - ask some decent questions or something. CONOR : I suppose I _could_...hey..yeah...I _could_.... (He rubs his moustache, and looks upwards in thought). KARL : Can I go home now? Due South is on. ANDY : The defendant will moderate his use of language to describe crap tv programs in court! KARL : Or what? You'll execute me? (There is jeering in court, and a sudden barrage of rotten fruit appears from nowhere and is hurled at the dock by the crowd. Ken and funLiam attempt to restore calm, without success. Oddly). ANDY : The court will adjourn for ten minutes. SCENE....An anteroom of the court. Andy sits at a desk covered in papers, while Pat, Conor and Ronan stand at the opposite side, leaning against the desk edge. Appearing in shot from the far end of the room is Johnny, Donal, Ken and Liam. There is a tv on in the other corner, showing an old repeat of "The Thin Blue Line". the noise of it can sort of be heard among the voices. ANDY : Okay, it's going according to plan so far, just keep it up. DONAL : I don't understand, are'nt we supposed to be on the side of good? ie - non-talking-shit? Are *we* really going to kill him? ANDY : Look, I know it's wierd, but trust me. There are forces at work here that even beings as mighty as us cannot hope to comprehend. Karl knew what he was doing. For now, comrades, we must simply perform our task. You don't want more fucking wierd mails do ya? PAT : Yeah. let the trial continue! ANDY : Hey, that's my line! Let the smile go in you! RONAN : (Pause) What'd you say Andy? ANDY : (Pause) Just do what the kid says. JOHNNY : Wait a minute - I love this bit... (looks at the tv) (The sound of the tv can be heard as one of the coppers form the show is at a desk, talking on the phone, while chewing gum. He can be heard to say : "Tango...Tango...(pause)...2 cheese pizzas and a coke"..) KEN : Watch out Smithers! (A sound of laughter is heard from the tv). KEN : hehe - I love this show... SCENE....Back in the courtroom. Order reigns once more. (The final member of the coucil for prosecution steps up to the floor. He is Ronan Ryan. He is decked out in typical collegey gear, over which he displays a basketball singlet, with the number "999", and the name, "RYAN" printed on the back. He walks up to the bench and takes a drink of water). RONAN : Y'know Karl, I believe you when you say that you're innocent - cos of course we all know that you're a PAWN - for the most diabolical human being ever born - DONAL MULLIGAN! (He points at Mr. Donal, a member of the coucil for the defence). (There is gasps from the crowd) DONAL : Hey, I don't loooook like Egan. RONAN : (Pause) I suppose not. (returns to Karl). You don't have the intelligence to spout dribble! You were only some other guy's lackie - you were bonnie to their clyde, sonny to their cher, bingo to their rest of the beatles!! ANDY : There WILL be order in this courtroom! RONAN : (Shouts) I WILL NOT BE SILENCED!! ANDY : (Points) Youuuu're OUT OF ORDER MISTER! RONAN : Ooooh, I'm out of order? I'M OUT OF ORDER? I'm not out of order - you're out of order! (points at Andy), the whole freakin system is out of order!!!! KEN : No it isn't - you're really out of order. RONAN : (Pause) I am? Oh. (Pause as he quietens and looks at the floor with a puppy dog look). Ok. (meekly). (There is silence in the courtroom). RONAN : I suppose I'd better sit down... KARL : Yeah, you do that. ANDY : Council for the Defence, get up and eh, say something I suppose, and you there (points at some lesser security guard who no-one knows), go and get me a ham and cheese pizza, lots of topping, and 3 beers. (A member of the 2-manned council for the defence stands up and takes the floor. It is Johnny Callaghan). JOHNNY : So, eh, (looks puzzled at Andy), what am I supposed to do here? ANDY : What do I look like, a doctor? JOHNNY : (re-directs puzzled look at Karl) Well. KARL : Yeah, old time water dispensing yokes rock. JOHNNY : Anyway...(sighs)...Did you steal the salt from the canteen today? I was looking all over for it... KEN : Sorry that was me (grins). You can have it back now if you want. JOHNNY : Yeah, well I'd love to, but I'm a little busy doin a trial thingy, ok? (frowns). KARL : You're supposed to be on my side y'know. JOHNNY : I'm in court tryin to be impartial - I'm not supposed to take sides in an investigation...sheesh! (rolls eyes). KARL : I don't talk or mail shit y'know - I'm perfectly sane. You all just don't know good humour when it comes your way. JOHNNY : Yeah yeah, whatever - hey Andy, can I have some of your pizza when it comes? DONAL : Yeah me too - we've been in here for ages - I'm starved. ANDY : Hell no. Should we pass judgement now or something? JOHNNY : (shrugs) you're askin me?....(laughs) DONAL : What about my bit? CONOR : I don't think anyone cares anymore. ANDY : ORDER! ORDER I SAY!! (bangs almost unceaseingly). DONAL : Come on - we're in court. I wrote loads of questions to ask you people - some of them even include ancient Leitrim humour greetings....I've derived Physics equations that PROVE that our client talks shit...I mean...(Long silent awkward pause) "does'nt" (pause) talk shit... PAT : Plus _I_ stayed up all night dyeing my underwear. KARL : Well thanks for the spirited defence guys. ANDY : Very well. The court finds the defendant GUILTY on all charges. I shall now pass sentence. (Puts black cap and cape on. The supposed evil effect is surprisingly minimal). For the crime of talking shit blah blah blah, I hereby sentence you to death by firing squad. Sentence will be carried out immediately. DONAL : Y'know - I fuckin better get more lines in the next installment - what a gyp... (The defendant is dragged off to a large room immediately adjoining the court. It is a tatty room, and bullet holes pockmark the walls. He is unceremoniously tied to a chair and blindfolded, and the rifles of the firing squad appear through slits in a large black tarpaulin draped from the ceiling. There is a momentary hush as the seargant- at-arms (Ken Maher) raises funLiam into the air, then lowering him downwards. A deafening fusilade ensues. Blood seeps through the defendant's Crowded House t-shirt). KARL : (coughs).... is that the best you can do? (Ken raises and lowers funLiam once more. There is another burst of fire. This time, there is only silence). ANDY : Excellent. DONAL : Wait - who's that outside the window? CONOR : Shit. PAT : It's Mark! ANDY : Oh My God.... KEN : haw haw - you said God.... ANDY : fuck - he's throwing something.... RONAN : Damn - now I really wish that I told Ray the funLiam redbrick password again....Noooooooooo!!!!!! (A bag of grenades heads towards the window, and crashes in onto the floor. "The students" look at each other in disarray. Then they look at the grenades. There is a slow white flash which becomes infinitely bright, then slowly fades to black). * REPORT OF THE CLERK OF THE COURT ----------- ------------- ... ... ... Who *is* Eric Cartman's mother? Is it (pause) : Ken Maher? funLiam? Ronan Ryan? Conor O'Kane? Patrick O'Reilly III? Donal? Andrew Phillips? Johnny Callaghan? That security guy? The entire crowd? Joe? Peter? Methuselah? That guy who calls me Phil? Gerry Ryan? Ian Dempsey? Nora Brophy? The entire cast of 'Veronica's Closet'? Joe Pesci? Little lulu? That guy? Some other person? And who really _did_ shoot Mr. Burns? Well, it was Maggie. (Pause). Why is the word 'dyslexia' so hard to read? The Answer is coming on an all *new* South Park... CARTMAN : what a gyp! COMING SOON....THE FINAL INSTALLMENT..... (Starring Nottingham Forest football club, Cameron Diaz, and Ken). ***** MAY THE FORCE BE WITH YOU ***** Last modified: Monday, 12-Nov-2007 12:31:30 GMT |