Daily to a special receptor Implanted into your brain

The final adventure of Tiny

Elvis *

TINY ELVIS.....Nicholas Cage
RED................Slim Pickens
SONNY............Roy Schneider
DRIVER...........John Travolta

PRICILLA……..Drew Barrymore

Open on TINY ELVIS’s mansion, the boys are in the living room, TINY ELVIS enters.

TINY ELVIS: Hey Red, Sonny, you guys havin’ a real cool time?

RED: Yes sir, count on it, Tiny Elvis.

SONNY: Takin' care of business, Elvis!

TINY ELVIS: Well, that's good man, that's real, real good. Hey, Sonny, Red! Check out this lamp guys, it hu-uuu-uge!

SONNY: [Laughs] Sure is Elvis.

RED: That's right, E!

TINY ELVIS: Well, man, I don't know how I'd ever get to turn that thing off, man. That is enormous!

SONNY: That's right, Elvis, that's a big lamp! [Slaps his knee]

TINY ELVIS: Sure is, man. That's a really big lamp!

RED: That's hilarious, Elvis!

SONNY: Yeah, Elvis, you're really funny man!

TINY ELVIS: Hey, man... look at that ’lectric socket, man. That is huge! Man, I’d never ever be able to use that much ‘lectric man. That is just way too much!

RED: Yeah, that's a big socket, Elvis!

TINY ELVIS: Sure is huge, man.

SONNY: That's hilarious, Elvis!

RED: Score another one for the King!

SONNY: Man, we can't keep up with you!

TINY ELVIS: Well, it's a big socket that's al, nothing to get all wired up about man...

RED: [laughing]. There he goes again! That's why he's the main-man.

SONNY: Yeah the ‘mains’ man. I say come on, stand next to it. Come on, Elvis, that'd be real cute!

TINY ELVIS: [taking offence] Whoa, whoa, whoa, cute, freaking cute! What are you saying, man?

SONNY: What's the matter, Tiny Elvis?

TINY ELVIS: What, are you calling me "cute", man?

SONNY: I'm sorry, Tiny Err...

TINY ELVIS: [interrupting] Hey, man, I'm not cute! I'm a black belt in karate! I got a good mind to climb up your shirt and give your lower lip a good old’ barrelhouse thumping!

SONNY: I'm sorry Elvis, real sorry.

TINY ELVIS: Well, I could split your lip in like 60 to 80 kicks, man!

RED: Well, he didn't mean anything by it, Tiny Elvis.

TINY ELVIS: Yeah well………. he’d better of not, alright... Forget it fellers, hey, let's go for a ride.

RED: I'm with you, Elvis.

SONNY: Count me in, Tiny E.

TINY ELVIS: Well, call Joe and tell him to bring the car around.

[The scene shifts to the boys riding with TINY ELVIS in the car. TINY ELVIS is standing on top of the dashboard. ]

TINY ELVIS: Turn left here, man!

DRIVER: You're the man, Elvis.

TINY ELVIS: Hey, man! Look at that knob on that radio! Man that is hu-u-uge! [The boys laugh]

SONNY: Man, you're going tonight, E!

TINY ELVIS: Well, I'm just saying that's a big knob, that's all………….. Alright….. It looks pretty quiet out at the moment, I tell ya Tiny E's gonna get some shuteye.

[TINY ELVIS curls up to sleep, on the dashboard]

SONNY: Oh, look at him, Red. Isn’t that adorable!

RED: Yeah, he looks like a little mouse.

DRIVER: You know what would be really cool? If Elvis would lay his little head down on a miniature marshmallow.

RED: [laughing]. Then put a little acorn on his head as a helmet!

[The boys laugh harder]

SONNY: Man, he's so cute, he's like a daisy!

[The boys keep laughing, not noticing that TINY ELVIS is waking up]

TINY ELVIS: Huh, what's that, man? What's with that daisy stuff, man?

DRIVER: Oh... we're sorry, Elvis... We thought you were asleep...

TINY ELVIS: [outraged] what, you were doing that stuff again?! Who's the daisy, me?

SONNY: We're sorry, Elvis...

TINY ELVIS: Daisy, freaking daisy, well, that's it! Out of the car, all of you, NOW!

[The DRIVER brakes and they all exit the car]

DRIVER: Alright, way to go Elvis!

RED: Good call my main man.

SONNY: You're the King, Tiny E!

[The scene shifts to TINY ELVIS, alone in the car, kneeling against the dashboard, with one hand gripped to the steering wheel]

TINY ELVIS: Oh, man! Will you just look at that truck heading straight towards me! That is just soooo hu-u-uge!!

[The next day in Heaven there was a new Angel.]

END

Alan P Scott.

Tue 14 Oct

‘Mannequins Mauled in Store Wars’

Sometimes I’m almost lost for words, but only sometimes.

The shop mannequin and the crash-test dummy have always held a privileged place in the imagination. Battered, broken and discarded; they house deep veins of alienation and despair, they evoke terminal stylisation wreaked by technology and trussed in bizarre orthopaedic harnesses, they signal the insidious post humanism of the early 21st century. They're real creapy!

Sometimes it seems as if it’s not really necessary to make up any more fictional stories, real life can provide us with loads of sophisticated fun quite well without our help.

So it was with keen interest that I read that shoppers have gone on the rampage at a store called . . . . . . . ahem. . . . . . . Clockwork Orange, in Northern Ireland.

‘Feverish shoppers ripped clothes off shop mannequins during a bargain store sale which ended in trouble and police being called,’ the report intoned.

According to an employee, ‘It was completely primeval - it was like crazed animals. Within half an hour of the store opening all the windows had been smashed and the store had been ransacked by people coming in and ripping the clothes off the mannequins and just leaving the mannequins on the ground.’

I’d fancifully like to think that these shoppers are exacting revenge for all the failings of themselves that they see reflected, Ballard style, in the eerie melancholy of the shop mannequin. But I’m sorry to report that there is something more bloodless at work: ‘It seems that the store had the sale’s idea, that the cost of the clothes was determined by the time of purchase.

if you were in by 5am, everything was 5 euros etc’.

This is a very bizarre and strange kind of upending of rational economics.

So what does it all mean?

Well putting on my white smock-coat, Dr Scott says:-

They brought it on themselves…..this riot was part of the sales service?’

By the way, that headline, ‘Mannequins Mauled in Store Wars’ — it may well be the very best headline since ‘Headless Body Found in Topless Bar’.

Noun: context kón-tekst

1. Discourse that surrounds a language unit and helps to determine its interpretation
   - linguistic context, context of use
   
2. The set of facts or circumstances that surround a situation or event
   "the historical context"
   - circumstance, setting

Noun: reality ree'a-li-tee

1. All of your experiences that determine how things appear to you
   "for them demons were as much a part of reality as trees were"
   - world
   
2. The state of being actual or real
   "the reality of his situation slowly dawned on him"
   - realness, realism
   
3. The state of the world as it really is rather than as you might want it to be
   "businessmen have to face harsh realities"
   
4. The quality possessed by something that is real

Antonym: unreality

Encyclopaedia: Reality, Love, and Rock'N Roll

Cinema’s influence upon notions of content, absence and treatment, will continue to be felt even if it ceases to maintain a separate existence.

It will continue to survive as a genre of music.

We may well be presented with a world where these soundtracks increasingly outnumber actual films.

Woke up this Morning.

Arms : two.

Legs : two.

Existential dread : fifty

eight percent.

Randomized guilt : eighty

four percent.

Superhero status : nought

point, nought, nought.

Hangovers, don’t ya just love em?

But how do you get rid of them?

Scientists, probably the same ones that come out every year to tell us that Father Christmas couldn't possibly fly at the speed necessary to deliver all the presents to good children in one night without turning into Santa-paste (that's a technical term by the way) have announced this year, for a record 31,738 times in a row, that there is no such thing as a hangover cure.

Apparently, according to the scientists, the only way to avoid a hangover is by - quote - "consuming alcohol in moderation or not at all" – unquote - As any one who has ever indulged in that third delightful draft knows, this is bullshit.

So is there any hope? Well, yes there is always hope, and that's why I am here. To pass on these veritable gleaming pearls of my wisdom, gained I might add, through years of study and self-denial . . . . . . .

Here are my top five hangover cures.

Cure 1 - Vitamin C

It is probably best to take this in the form of orange juice if you can, better still in the form of one of those fizzy tablets thingies you drop into a glass of water.

If you can bear the terrible noise that these things make. Then you don't have a hangover any more. See, it’s working already!

Research, and by this I mean real anecdotal research. And not the boring, tested, closed-laboratory-based kind of thing, has shown that the beneficial properties of vitamin C are even further enhanced by the addition of a shot of vodka'. Crazy, but true.

Cure 2 - Fried food

Ideally, you need six or seven rashers of bacon, three sausages, two eggs, a handful of mushrooms, black pudding and loads of toast and/or fried bread. If there is any space left on the plate, you should add baked beans.

If you do not have any of the above in the fridge at your time of need, do not panic. A surprising number of things can be fried in an emergency. I myself have had fried, leftover Chinese, Pizza, half an avocado and a hamster - and they all fried up a treat.

Cure 3 - Coke

Context, my friend, context.

On any normal day a concoction of sugar, carbon dioxide and brown food colouring is not the ideal thing to put in to your body. However, on a hung-over morning, it is to your alcohol-poisoned innards as the babbling brook is to a parched and early butterfly or something like that.

Cure 4 - Black coffee

Add enough sugar and it's as good as Coke.

Warning – Can contain hot liquid.

If you are really, really, really hung-over and actually shaking, best avoid.

Sorry but I forgot

Sorry but I forgot to explain why Vitamin C works so well.

It's the bubbles, you see. They act like tiny, transparent suitcases into which all the big bad alcohol germs are packed in to.

Also their bouncing around dislodges all those tiny hairy monsters that have attached themselves to your system, they then wash them away, leaving you sparkling clean, young, free, sexy and witty once more.

To maximise this effect, one of nature’s great miracles, it is best combined with the above mentioned fried breakfast (cure 2). The grease helps the bubbles slip around more easily. You see.

Cure 5 - Bed

Just stay in bed.

It is quite remarkable how much better you will feel after a mere, oh, let’s say, twenty eight hours of warm dozing.

If you can get a loving partner, dog or paid employee to bring you all the other cures at two-hourly intervals, of course, so much the better. But beware. As intimations of mortality go, these hangovers will get worse, especial around any season of good-will, excess and bugger all else to do.

You may one day thank me for this advice. I am not a scientist, so I am able to keep things simple for you.

Have a nice day.

.

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